FanFic - Alex/Isabel
"The Date"
Part 1
by Emily
Disclaimer: Yeah, right, I do NOT own any of the characters--just the ideas--in this story.
Summary: My vision of what Alex and Isabel's first date should have been like.
Category: Alex/Isabel
Rating: PG
Authors Note: Feedback is always appreciated, as long as you don't completely trash my story. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!
Alex wanted us to go on an actual date. Liz and Max do it all the time, so I figured it would be okay. When I said yes, his face just lit up, and I smiled, because I knew I had made him happy. We agreed to meet at Chez Pierre that night, so I went home to finish my homework and get ready.

“Big date tonight, Iz?” Max asked, peering into my room.

“Mmm,” I replied absently.

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Alex—he wants us to actually go out.”

“Ooh, sounds serious,” Max teased.

“Why are you so happy?” I demanded. My brother was virtually always serious and moody.

He grinned lopsidedly. “Oh, just Liz. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

I shook my head. “You’re giddy, Max.”

“I know. Isn’t it great? I’ve never felt like this before.”

“What are you doing hanging around me then? Did you come in here just to rub in how happy you are?”

Max’s grin disappeared. “You mean you’re not happy, Iz? What about Alex?”

“Oh, I like Alex—he does make my happy. But I’m still scared.”

“Scared of what?” he asked.

I sighed. “I don’t know—the FBI, being exposed…”

Max nodded grimly. “I know; I am too. But we’ll get through it; we have help now, if we ever need it. And I’ve actually got a girlfriend, and you’ve actually got a boyfriend… We should be happy.”

I smiled. “You—happy? Oh, that’s not possible.”

My brother shoved me playfully. “Funny.”

“I know.” I gave him a fake smile; then I got serious again. “Thanks, Max.”

He grinned that stupid lopsided grin again. “You’re welcome. Have fun on your date tonight, Isabel.”

“Yeah, I will,” I said, mostly to myself, as Max left my room.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

When I got to Chez Pierre, Alex was sitting at a table, tapping his fingers anxiously, waiting for me. “Hello, Alex,” I said, and he looked up.

“Hi,” he said happily.

“Thank you for inviting me,” I said, sitting down. He gaped. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing, just—déjà vu. I could have sworn I’ve heard you say that before.”

“You have.”

“I have?” he gulped.

“Alex, I think there’s something I should tell you.”


“You remember when I asked you to go to that party at the old soap factory?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, before I did that, I did something else. See… I… Well…” There was no easy way to say this. “I went into your dreams,” I stated flatly.

Alex swallowed. “You… what?”

“See; I have this pow—”

“Can I start you off with something to drink?” our waiter asked, and I shut up.

We ordered drinks, and then there was a minute of uncomfortable silence. “So, uh, you were saying?” Alex asked, clearing his throat.

“Right. Well, okay. I have this power where I can visit people in their dreams. I don’t become a part of their dream or anything—I just watch.”

“Okay,” Alex said slowly. “And you did this to me?”

The waiter brought our drinks, and I fixated on stirring my cherry Coke with my straw before explaining any more to Alex. “Isabel,” he prompted. “Why would you do something like that?”

“I just wanted to see what you were dreaming about.”

“What was I dreaming about?” he asked quietly, though I knew he knew the answer.

“Me,” I whispered, staring at my hands.

“So that’s…” Alex was turning red. “That’s why… you’re just playing me, because you know I’m in love with you? Is this all just a ploy to get me to keep my mouth shut? God, I thought you trusted me.”

“I do! Alex, I’m sorry. That was before I knew you. You were gonna tell Valenti everything, and I had to stop it, but I didn’t know how. To figure out how, I had to see what you were thinking. But that’s all over. I do trust you—we all do. I’m here tonight, because I like you.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes! Alex, you should know I don’t play around with this relationship stuff. There’s no reason for me to be here tonight with you except that I want to.”

“Okay, I believe you. Isabel, just do one thing for me.”

“Sure,” I agreed, nodding.

“Promise me you won’t ever do that to me again. It’s just—well, it’s kinda embarrassing, and what I dream about is usually really, really private.”

“Of course. I could never do that to you now that I really know you—and really like you. I promise.”

Alex smiled. “So now we can enjoy dinner?”

“Now we can enjoy dinner.”


Again, there were a few minutes of awkward silence. “So, Alex, I gotta ask you: why Chez Pierre?”

“Well, I… I guess I just wanted to take you somewhere nice,” he said. “Cuz… you’re special.”

I blushed. “But this just doesn’t seem like your kind of place.”

“It’s not so bad… Actually, Isabel, this place is making me really uncomfortable. I don’t know how to act here.”

I smiled. “The food isn’t really anything special, either. Come on; let’s just go to the Crashdown and get a burger.”

Alex grinned and put some money on the table for the sodas we’d already ordered. “Shall we?” he said, getting up and offering me his arm.

I hooked my arm through his. “Let’s get outta here.”

We walked down the block to the Parkers’ restaurant and sat at the booth in the corner, trying not to look out of place, as we were a little over-dressed for the café. “Hey, guys,” Liz said, coming over. “What’re you doin’ all dressed up?”

“Well, we were gonna eat at Chez Pierre, but we decided that this place was much better,” Alex said, and Liz smiled.

“Well, thank you for choosing the Crashdown. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Two cherry Cokes,” Alex said.

“Sure thing.” Liz headed over to the counter to get the sodas.

“Better?” Alex asked me.

“Much,” I replied, smiling.

“Afterwards, if you’re up to it, I was thinking maybe we could go stargazing. I hear the Big Dipper’s especially bright this time of year,” Alex said, offering me a crooked smile.

I laughed. “Sure. I’d love to.”

Liz brought our sodas, and we ordered burgers and French fries—teenager food. “Another thing about Chez Pierre—no Tobasco sauce, huh?” Alex commented, as I practically dumped half the bottle into my soda.

“Yeah, I guess it’s not French enough,” I joked, feeling completely comfortable for the first time that night.


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