Andie's fingertips unleashed a torrent of Emperor Palpatine-style blue lightning, which sizzled along the iridescent skin of the security bubble. The Neuronic light spread fast as a rumor, electric fingers branching outward. Her nostrils prickled from the sharp, pungent zing of ozone. Fortunately, the scream of the alarm grew fainter as the claws of light covered more and more of the dome.

Wrenching her hand back, she stared at it blankly. What had she been thinking, touching that thing just because it was pretty? What was she? Four?

"You are not thinking," Bad Andie said. "My turn."

"But ..."

Andie felt a pressure on her brain. Something pushing her down into a dark, cozy, womblike existence. She surrendered because she didn't have the energy to do anything else.

"Finally! I'm in charge," Bad Andie said unnecessarily, as her regular mental sparring partner was inert at the moment—occupying the space deep in their subconscious where Bad Andie normally hung out fantasizing about hot sticky sex with a variety of supernatural beings. As much as she'd rather head back to her regular locale, she was the only one of the two of them not affected by the moon's pull. Basically, it was up to her to get them out of this alive so she could return to her fantasy world.

Now then. What would Boring Andie do? Aside from something inane, like calculating the inverse fractal coefficient of sand.

Boring Andie would analyze the current situation, examine their assets and liabilities, and make an informed decision. Bad Andie girded her figurative loins and made a list.

1. Hot alien with lots of well-placed muscles and excellent kissing skills

2. Magical spacesuits which grant extra strength/libido

3. Neuronic energy, which can be lethal, especially to security systems

4. High level of motivation to kick ass because of abduction of best friend

1. Stinging jellyfish drones

2. No element of surprise because of stupid move by Boring Andie. Now everyone on the moon is aware of their presence.

3. Hot alien with well-placed muscles and excellent kissing skills currently looking horrified and exasperated and keeps waving his hand in her face. Super annoying.

4. Desperate need for sustenance.

5. The moon's power to turn Boring Andie into a mental vegetable.

6. Spaceship currently at the bottom of ocean.

7. Alien hunk now shaking her shoulders and lobbing utterances at her; however, she cannot understand what he is saying due to total absorption in watching the way his luscious, delicious, kissable lips form words.

Holy god! Other than the kissable lips, being in charge sucked. Bad Andie did not know what to do next. Being a backseat driver was way more fun. She nudged Boring Andie. "Hey, girl. Why don't you come on back?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I like it here. It's quiet. And peaceful."

So stubborn! "Please?"

"No."

"Look, I promise to stop criticizing you, even though you deserve it, and will do everything in my power to keep you from succumbing to the moon's influence. We can be a team."

"Wow. That is just about the most cogent thing you've ever said."

"What can I say? After twenty-six years, some of you has rubbed off on me."

"Good to hear. But I keep turning into a hormonal idiot."

"True, but I have a plan."

"Which is?"

"Every time you act crazy, I will metaphorically rap your knuckles with a ruler."

"Like a schoolmarm?"

"I prefer dominatrix. But yes. A little jolt. Like this." She supplied an image of an unbalanced balance sheet to Boring Andie.

"That's just cruel."

"We have to go with what works. Now let's go rescue our Sterling and then get Oliver to rub off on us. Deal?"

"Okay."

"By the way, I put together a list of assets and liabilities."

"I know. I was listening to every thought you had. What can I say? Once a control freak, always a control freak. I have one question, though."

"Yeah?"

"Inverse fractal coefficient of sand. Really?"

Andie looked up and gulped. A line of jellyfish drones rose over the horizon, and hung there, suspended in the sky with the promise of doom. Like Blackhawk helicopters, except without the deafening thwacking sound of blades slicing through the air.

"I love Blackhawk helicopters," Bad Andie said. "Well, not the helicopters per se, but the pilots in their tight uniforms. Yum. I had a Blackhawk pilot romance novel phase a while back. 'Blackhawk Goes Down.' 'Deep Throttle.' 'Blades of Steel.' Good times."

"Is this your idea of helping?"

"Sorry."

Oliver waved his hands in her eye-line. "Andie? Andromeda? OSHA. IRS."

Andie slowly blinked.

Snippets of language registered in her consciousness. Something about the IRS.

God, he was hot.

"Balance Sheets."

Every line of sinew and muscle rippled beneath his thin suit. Andie dropped her gaze, and her breath hitched.

"Income Statement."

He was trying to speak accountant. That was so sexy.

"Not sexy. At all," Bad Andie said, splashing an image of negative numbers, all in bright red, into Andie's mind.

"Okay. I'm fine. Thanks."

Oliver let out a huge breath. "You are back, thank goodness. Please do not go away again. We must find shelter before those drones arrive. It would be ideal if we could get past the security bubble. But wow. Look at it now."

Pulsing, crackling blue lightning engulfed the entire dome. If only they could short it out. But how? The drones continued to rise soundlessly in the sky before repositioning themselves, coalescing into something like letters.

"Hold up, Oliver," Andie said. "Look. They're making words." The drones danced around one another, then darted into place. "SURRENDER ANDIE," she read. "Like in the Wizard of Oz."

Andie didn't quite know how to take this. She ought to tremble in her moon boots because whoever had programmed the drones not only knew there were intruders on the moon, they also knew her name. But it made Andie a little sad because she, Rachel, Sterling, and Pilot used to watch the movie every Christmas dressed up like the characters—Andie as the brainy Scarecrow, Rachel as Glinda the Good Witch, Sterling as the Tin Man because she felt he was the most sympathetic character and Pilot as Dorothy. Pilot refused to be Toto or even the Cowardly Lion, though Andie thought either would have been a better fit. She had to admit he looked rather handsome in gingham.

No one ever wanted to play the Wicked Witch of the West, because of the green skin paint that was nearly impossible to wash off and the obligatory dousing with a bucket of water during the climax. Holy Toledo! A bucket of water. That was the answer! The brook!

"Oliver, we need a bucket."

Oliver held out his empty hands. "I seem to have forgotten to pack one."

Think. Think. Think. What else was at hand that could hold water? Maybe ... "Do you have a Gripple?"

"Of course. No self-respecting Amu leaves the house without a Gripple."

Andie grinned. "Does it hold water?"

"Certainly." He pulled a Gripple from the collar of his spacesuit and handed it to her.

"Be right back," she said. Andie raced through the stand of palm trees toward the sound of the brook. It looked rather like the stream in Oliver's house with the miniature hammerheads. She tied the ends of the Gripple together, forming a sort of upside-down parachute, and scooped water into it.

"Here goes nothing," Andie said, tossing the water at the bubble. The blue electricity fizzled, and the bubble sputtered out of existence.

"You ..." Oliver shook his head. "You took out the most advanced security system in the galaxy. With water."

Andie's chest swelled. "I guess I did."

Oliver kissed her soundly, and her body melted into his. She breathed in his cinnamon scent. Boy, she could use a cinnamon roll right now.

"Humans are the best," he said.

"Aliens aren't so bad either. Especially one in particular."

"Glad to hear you say that. But enough of the dill pickle dallying."

"Dilly dallying," Andie said. "But you know what? Keep up the malapropisms. They are actually adorable."

He saluted her. "Anything to please you." His eyes sparkled with promise. "Wait. Look, the drones are retreating."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Most likely you've befuddled the computer's central processor at headquarters by shorting the security system. But it's only a matter of time before it regroups. We need disguises if we are to proceed. And I know just where to get them." He gave her a nervous sideways glance that made her stomach twist. There was something about their destination that worried him. But before she could pump him for information, he clasped her hand in his and they ran across the scorched earth where the bubble used to be and into a completely new world.