Author's Note:

I have been working on this story (or sections of it) for months now... It absolutely refused to come together from start to finish (the way I normally write). Instead, the "plot bunnies" as my sister calls them, have insisted on the creation of little sections that belong in the middle. Sigh.

Life has grown busier of late, and time seems to go by faster each day. I have finally decided that instead of waiting for the story to be completely finished, I should just post the chapters as they develop. I give the reader fair warning: there may be long waits between updates.

I'd like to say a special thank you to and Shirley Jean - my good friends who keep me encouraged, proof my chapters, and motivate me to continue writing. :)

One more thing:

"The story you are about to read is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent."

I know, I know... that would normally appear at the end of the episode. As a way of introduction, I thought the reader might like to know that the incidents described below are based on actual events. :)

Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

The dawn of early morning came shining through the window; a gentle reminder to Jean Reed that it was time to get out of bed. Though his alarm had not gone off yet, she knew Jim was already up by the sound of water running in the shower.

After a few moments, she hopped out of bed, put on her robe and went to check on Jimmy. He had been running a temperature for the past couple of days for no apparent reason.

"Mommy?" cried a plaintive little voice as she entered the room.

"Yes Jimmy?"

"Mommy? I don't feel good! I'm itchy! All over!"

Jean's heart sank when she saw that the four year old was covered in small red bumps. She brushed his dark brown hair out of his face, and felt his forehead, all the while examining his skin.

"Oh Jimmy! I'm afraid you have the chicken pox."

"We don't have any chickens." Jimmy stated in a matter-of-fact way.

"I know honey, that's just what people call it." She frowned thoughtfully. "I'll have to get some Calamine lotion... that will make you feel better. You stay in bed, Jimmy. I'll be right back."

Jean hurried back up the hall and into the bedroom. "Jim?"

"Good morning!" Jim greeted her cheerfully. He looked up from tying his shoes, then took her hand and pulled her into his lap. "What did I ever do to deserve such a beautiful wife?"

"Jim, listen..."

"I am. You know, Pete just doesn't know what he's missing by staying a bachelor..."

"Jim..."

If there was one thing Jim wasn't doing, it was listening. He kissed her cheek and said playfully, "There should be a law against any girl looking this pretty first thing in the morning..."

"Jim!"

"Yes dear?"

"Our son has chicken pox."

"What? That's terrible! What do we do? Does he need to go to the doctor?"

"I don't think so... I'll just keep an eye on him, we will need to get some Calamine lotion. Hopefully it will clear up by next week." Jean put her arm around Jim's shoulders. "Marge can come over and sit with him while I run to the store. You go on in to work. Pete should be here any minute..."

At that moment, a horn sounded outside.

"See? He's here already. Now you hurry up. I'll take care of Jimmy."

"But Jean..."

"Pete's waiting. You have to go."

Together they walked towards the front door and Jean gave him a kiss. "Have a good day dear."

She closed the door behind him and was turning to walk away when Jim came back inside. "Are you sure you don't need me?"

"Yes!" Jean laughed and teasingly pushed him outside. "Will you please go?"

Pete had watched this interaction with amused interest. When his partner made it to the car, he asked, "What was that all about?"

"Jimmy has the chicken pox."

After this statement, it had practically taken an act of Congress to get Pete Malloy (very concerned godfather) out of the driveway. As for Jim, his thoughts remained centered on his son, resulting in a very quiet trip to the station.

As Malloy set the emergency brake, he noticed an unfamiliar blue convertible near the back door. A man about 25 years old was leaning against the car, apparently waiting on something. "Hey Jim?"

"Hmm?" was the disinterested reply.

"Do you recognize that car?"

Jim emerged from his reverie and studied the vehicle. "No..."

"Let's check it out, okay?"

"Right behind ya'."

As they approached the car together, the man looked up in surprise and smiled. "Hi fellas'."

"Hello. I'm Officer Malloy and this is my partner Officer Reed." Pete brought out his identification card, since he and Jim were still in their civilian clothes.

"George Jamison," was the answer. He was dressed in blue jeans and a light windbreaker.

"Are you having car trouble Mr. Jamison?"

"Uh, well, kind of. See... we're out of gas... almost. And, well, we aren't from around here, so we came to the police station."

"Wouldn't it have been better to go to a gas station?" Jim asked in amusement.

"Um, sure, if you can pay for gas... which we can't. See, we don't have any money either."

Before Pete or Jim could say anything else another man walked up.

"The guy inside said we should have gone to the gas station," announced the newcomer with a frown. He was about the same age as his friend, dressed in similar clothes, with long blonde hair.

"We would be happy to direct you to the closest station," Pete offered, looking from one to the other.

"Well, see, the problem is..." This statement from Mr. Jamison was cut off by the entrance of Wells.

"Here you go... I hope this helps." Ed slipped what appeared to be cash into the blonde's hand, with a sheepish look at Malloy and Reed.

"Thanks Officer! Sorry guys, we've got to run." The blonde motioned to his friend in an insistent tone. "If we don't get back on the road, the mother ship will never find us."

"The what?" Jim exclaimed.

"Thanks again!" Mr. Jamison called as he and his friend hopped back into the convertible.

"Wait a minute!" Pete called out. He had a few questions he wanted to ask.

"Gotta make time..." was the last thing they heard. As the car disappeared from view, Pete and Jim turned to Wells.

"Ed?"

"Yeah?" Ed put on a completely innocent air.

"Just exactly what was all that about?"

"All what?"

"C'mon Ed, you know 'what'." Jim waved a hand in exasperation. "Did he just say 'mother ship'? As in aliens? Outer space?"

"Well, yeah..."

"You've got to be kidding Ed!" Pete stared at his fellow officer in amazement. "Did you at least run them?"

"There wasn't time." Ed shrugged his shoulders. "They couldn't be late for their appointment."

"That is the most ridiculous story I have ever heard." Jim and Pete had both started laughing by this point, and Ed was doing his best to look serious.

"We'd better get inside, or we're going to be late." Pete managed to say as he tried to compose himself.

"After you, Ed. Take us to your leader," Reed motioned from Ed to the door with mock sincerity. This remark was met with a glare, and Jim promptly burst into another fit of laughter.

Sergeant MacDonald had already begun his morning briefing when Wells, Malloy, and Reed walked in. He looked up from his papers and was surprised to see two of his more punctual officers arriving five minutes late.

"Good of you to join us." He announced with a raised eyebrow. "I expect Wells to be late... but you guys?"

"Me?" Ed started to protest. "I'm never..."

"We all know that you hold the record!" Jerry Woods chimed in, as muffled laughter from the other officers filled the room.

The Sergeant held his hand up in a request for silence. "I don't suppose any of you would care to explain?"

"Sorry Mac..." Ed shot a look at his friends that begged them to be silent. He had no intention of explaining the very unusual encounter in front of the whole watch.

Both Pete and Jim heeded the wordless request. As they sat down, Mac cleared his throat and began his briefing for the second time. Jim wondered to himself if there was a form covering alien encounters somewhere in the Sergeant's files.