The transition from the surreal palm tree-lined yellow sidewalk into what appeared to be a decades-old small town was so abrupt, Andie's head swam with vertigo. She swayed and gripped Oliver's arm to keep from falling.

Oliver gathered her into an embrace. "Are you all right?"

"Mmmmm," she said, pressing her face into his cinnamon chest, trying to match her breaths to the slow, even pace of his alien heart. "Just need a second."

He stroked her hair and pressed his lips on the top of her head. "Not that I am all that concerned," he said, and she could feel the corners of his mouth turn upward, "but are you going to throw up on me again?"

Holding Oliver's hands for balance, Andie took a step back and managed a faint smile. "How terribly ungallant of you to ask, but I suppose it is not a completely unreasonable question. If I had anything in my stomach, I might. I don't know what's gotten into me." She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "We should probably keep moving if we're going to avoid being seen."

"There are cameras everywhere. Even the trees talk. We could take the back alleys where there are no cameras, but it will take much longer." Andie's legs felt boneless and wobbly, but she managed to stay vertical. "Maybe I should carry you. Andie? Andie? Are you in there? Why do you keep disappearing into your own thoughts?"

She ignored him, because god he was sexy when he got all Edward Cullen overprotective. Although truthfully, he was always sexy, not just when he was overly concerned about her well-being. He was also sexy when he was annoying, masterfully flying a spaceship, jealous of Chris Pine, sleeping, breathing, and wreaking havoc on the English language.

The heady, fragrant smell of jasmine filled the air, sending Andie's senses into overdrive. Maybe even warp drive. Her stomach calmed, and a euphoria settled over her like an invisible cloak, rippling down from her head, over her shoulders, all the way to her feet.

She had to kiss him.

Immediately.

"Carrying me isn't exactly what I want at the moment." She pulled him into the shade of an elm tree—well, it looked like an elm, except for the bright purple leaves and bubbles in place of flowers. These weird purple bubble elms lined the street like soldiers, evenly spaced and erect, all the way down the road.

"What are you doing?" Oliver said, as she pushed him against the tree trunk and pressed the length of her body against his, savoring each point of contact.

"I would think it's obvious," Andie said. Standing on tiptoes, she kissed him soundly. At first, he pulled away, lifted his head, and scanned the sky. He must have been worried about those stupid jellyfish drones again. "The drones are gone," she reminded him, wrapping her hands around the back of his head and nuzzling his ear. "Kiss me, or I might die."

"When you put it like that ..." He bent down and kissed her, raking his fingers through her hair. They settled into the rhythm of tongues and lips and blue sparky energy. When his "love beam" grew to a state that was hard to ignore, pressing as it was into her nether-regions, he emitted a low growl. Andie decided to take him right there.

A sharp zap of blue energy flashed between their mouths. "Ouch!" Andie leapt back, hand flying to her stinging lip. "Why did you do that?" Andie said, now quite sober.

Oliver rubbed his mouth. "I would never disrupt a kiss of that magnitude in such an ungentlemanly fashion."

"It was me," Bad Andie said. "And if you ever want to have hot alien sex again, I suggest you two get moving. I beg you to stay on task and complete the mission so I can get back to being the immature one. I'm finding responsibility to be a real bummer."

"You can control the Neuronic energy?"

"Sure. Easy peasy. Now stop this insanity and get going."

"Thanks," Andie said, meaning it. "That was close."

"Don't mention it," Bad Andie said magnanimously. "By the way, love beam?"

Andie ran her finger across Oliver's lips. "Sorry about kissing you," she said. "I am trying not to succumb to the moon's influence, but it's damned hard with you standing so close to me ... so ... so ... hard!"

"I will keep my distance then."

"Don't you dare, Oliver Lieder. But honestly, you're supposed to be immune. Only one of us gets to act like a lovesick teenager, and that job is filled."

He held her chin and scrutinized her face, his eyes sparking blue. "Perhaps I find your presence equally intoxicating."

"And that makes me very happy. But also nervous. Because right now, we have to rescue Sterling before I decide never to leave this place. This means we better take the fastest route to the disguises."

"Are you sure that is the best decision, Andromeda?"

"There are no drones in sight. We've disabled the security system, at least temporarily. And I am about three minutes from turning into a permanent performer in an intergalactic reality TV show. So, yes. I'm sure." Andie said in her most authoritative, logical, "I am an accountant" tone of superiority.

"This way," Oliver said, taking her hand and leading her further down a street with box-shaped stucco buildings. It looked like an old Hollywood neighborhood, but cleaner and with bizarre foliage. They stuck close to the shadows, which were voluminous because there were two suns at work—the thinking being that they wouldn't show up as clearly in a video image. They passed a car wash with a neon elephant sign blinking over the structure and stepped over the foamy soap bleeding on to the sidewalk.

A magnificent collie stood guard in front of an ice cream shop. "What a cute puppy," Andie said, kneeling to scratch behind its soft ears.

"Lassie," Oliver said.

"Like the real Lassie?"

"Of course. No imitations here."

"Yeah, all the imposters are on earth. I won't even ask how you got a dog to sign a contract agreeing to come here."

"Good," Oliver said.

Despite the questionable abduction of a dog, so far the fifties neighborhood of The Colony seemed pretty idyllic.

A pastel-pink convertible, with finned taillights and dice hanging from the rear-view mirror, rumbled past Elvis's Jailhouse Rock blasting from the radio. Two gorgeous women, sitting on the package tray in the back, wore pastel sweater-sets, poodle skirts and cats-eye sunglasses, ponytails flapping behind them. The men in the front, also exceedingly attractive, sported letterman's sweaters over white t-shirts. Cigarettes tipped out of mouths. Well, since everyone here lived forever, might as well bring on the vices.

One girl turned to get a better look at the space-suited strangers. She poked the shoulder of the girl next to her and pointed, just as the car disappeared down a side street. Andie held her breath as Oliver led her deeper into the shadow of the entry of an art déco movie palace. "Do you think they'll report us?"

"Doubtful. They're just curious about us. There are no barriers between the decades, so people are used to seeing different clothing, but the spacesuits make us rather conspicuous. But just in case, we best get a move on. Perhaps we should try a busier street. Get lost in the crowd."

They turned onto a four-lane road, where the stores were slightly larger and more people roamed the sidewalk. They passed a hobby shop with train kits in the windows and a costume shop with mannequins in sexy nurse costumes, beckoning passers by in their forever-frozen poses.

An auburn-haired beauty in a polka-dotted pin-up girl dress strutted out of a soda shop, raised a perfectly arched dark eyebrow, and winked at Oliver. When he smiled and waved back, Andie nudged him with her shoulder and cleared her throat. "Way to be discreet."

"If I had ignored her, it would have been more conspicuous."

There was some logic to that, though Andie didn't want to admit it. "Why is everyone so good-looking?" she said, trying to keep the jealousy out of her tone.

"Many of the background characters here are played by soap opera stars. It is easy attracting them to the Colony, as working on earth's soap operas is hard work for little reward. We are close."

The air smelled delicious—like French fries and greasy burgers. Andie's stomach rumbled.

"It's right there," Oliver said, pointing across the street to a diner with a gargantuan diamond-shaped sign on the roof that read "Norma's."

"Diners sell disguises?"

"This one does."

"But we just passed a costume shop."

"Trust me. This is the right place. Plus, the owner owes me some favors." A blush crept up his neck to his face.

"Who is he?"

"Who?"

"The owner."

"Well, she is ... not sure how to explain. Please try to remain calm."

"Why do I not like the sound of this?" Eyes still on Oliver, Andie stepped into the road.

Oliver yanked her back just as a yellow Hummer blew past.

Andie's heart slammed inside her chest. "What the hell was that?"

Oliver frowned. "I do not know. But it cannot be a mere coincidence. We shall have to be doubly on our guard. But aside from this new mystery, do you have a death wish, woman?"

"No."

"Then please watch where you are going. Remember what I said about the buried tropes? And you must look both ways before crossing the street. I thought this was something earth's children are taught in the garden."

"Kindergarten?"

"Exactly."

"In my defense, young children are not distracted by sexy aliens. As I see it, both times it has been your fault." Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, looked both ways, and crossed the road without incident.

Oliver pushed open the door to the jingling of bells and a rush of cold air, redolent with grease, cigarette smoke, and cooked meat. Conversations were animated as people vied to be heard over Johnny Be Good blasting on the jukebox. Turquoise Naugahyde booths lined the right-hand wall. There were neat rows of Formica-topped tables on the black and white checkerboard linoleum floor.

A half-dozen bobby-socked, pony-tailed, sweater-set wearing, giggling girls sat at the counter, near a display of cream pies rotating in a glass case. They sipped milkshakes and watched As the Earth Turns on a black and white tube television mounted on the wall. Andie assumed the show to be As the Earth Turns, given the scene depicted Elizabeth Taylor and J.Lo fighting over an egg-sized diamond pendant in a jewelry store. Behind the counter, a man in a white chef's outfit set a basket of raw potato wedges into the fryer.

In the corner booth, a group of what looked like fifties teen idols ogled the females at the counter. Wow, was that Buddy Holly? And the Big Bopper? Bopper bit off a hunk of hamburger, dripping ketchup on to his white t-shirt. He blotted the spot with a magic Amu hankie, and it disappeared.

One of the giggly teenage girls spun on her stool and almost fell off when she noticed Oliver in his skin-tight spacesuit. Her eyes grew wide, and she licked her lips. "Hey handsome, sit next to me." She pushed the red-headed girl next to her off of her stool.

"Hey!" The redhead pushed back.

"No me," said a third.

"I saw him first."

"Leave him alone. All of you!" Andie snarled. "He's mine, and I'm armed, hungry, and on my last nerve."

"Oliver!" A gorgeous red-lipped, bottled-blonde emerged from a door on the far left side of the diner. She wore a delicate skin-tight, nude, thigh-high slitted gown.

She prowled toward Oliver, trailed by a veil-like cloud of hairspray, and kissed him full on the lips. Andie growled. "Oliver, darling!" she said in a breathy voice. "I am delighted you've returned at last. I've been waiting for so long." The woman actually pouted.

"Marilyn. So good to see you as well," Oliver said, grinning like a fool.

Marilyn. Marilyn, who? Could this be ... Andie's blood pressure skyrocketed. She cleared her throat, glaring at Oliver, reviewing her limited kickboxing knowledge and, for the millionth time, wishing she'd continued her education. She did not know who she wanted to practice on more at the moment—Oliver or Marilyn. Perhaps both.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Marilyn, this is Andie. My girlfriend. Andie, this is Marilyn Monroe."

"Charmed."

Andie scowled.

"I see she is falling under the moon's spell," Marilyn said. "Pity."

"She's fine."

Andie wrapped one arm possessively around her exasperating alien's waist. "Oliver, can we just get the disguises and see if she knows where Sterling is?"

Despite the din, several people looked up from their meals to watch the scene unfold.

"Keep your voice down," Oliver whispered in her ear. "We are trying to be under cover. Marilyn, is there somewhere we can talk? Privately."

"Of course, darling. My office. But I can see your ... human ... is hungry. Or rather, I can hear her stomach rumbling like a rocket."

What nerve! As if Marilyn isn't also a human. And comparing Andie's adorable stomach gurgles to a rocket is plain rude.

"Graham," Marilyn said. "The handsome man flipping burgers turned to face them."

"Yeah, boss?" he said in a cultured British accent.

"Please get Miss ..."

"Bank," Oliver provided.

"Bank. How lovely," she said, as if Bank were some kind of curse. "Please get her a burger and fries. Mr. Lieder and I shall be in my office. Oh, and perhaps she'll require a surprise for dessert."

A beeper went off and Graham lifted a basket of fries from the oil and shook it. "Sure thing," he said, nodding his head.

"I don't like it, Oliver. We should stick together."

"She is the only one I can trust on this moon."

"Right. Because she owes you."

"Yes."

Andie narrowed her eyes. "What exactly does she owe you for?" Andie said, trying, and failing, to keep her voice even.

He kissed her forehead. Like she was a child. She wanted to scream. As a reminder, she kissed him so thoroughly; she left them both breathless. "Well, I don't trust her," Andie whispered in his ear.

"She is my operative here on The Colony. You have nothing to fear. I am madly in love with you. Your feelings of jealousy are only the moon's influence. I promise I shall return in a few moments. Please stay here, Andromeda. Do not argue with anyone, go outside, or attempt any heroics."

"You're not the boss of me," Andie said.

"Please?" Oliver said, his gorgeous face full of concern.

Andie exhaled. "Of course. Why would I do any of those things with the prospect of burgers and fries in my future?" Andie said.

"Just promise me, my love."

"I promise," Andie said. Whether she meant it, she wasn't all that sure.

The time passed with the alacrity of a slow-motion car chase. A deliveryman came through a back door in the kitchen, dropping off a case of ketchup. The Big Bopper and Buddy Holly, having made no headway with the girls at the counter, finished their burgers and departed, mumbling something about fifties girls being like a bunch of nuns.

Partially to control her blood pressure, and partially to get a rise out of her alter ego, Andie counted the revolutions of the pie display. "Two-hundred forty-six. Two-hundred forty-seven."

"Very mature," Bad Andie griped.

"Passes the time."

"Instead of passing time, don't you think you should see what that hussy is doing with our boyfriend?"

"MY boyfriend."

"Whatever. I have a new obsession, anyway."

"Don't tell me."

"Vampire romance."

"Aren't vampires a little 'last decade?'"

"Vampires never die. And they are so sexy. I mean the non-sparkly ones. Right now I'm reading 'The Vampire Always Rises.' Looking forward to 'Slam, Bam, Fang You Ma'am' next."

"That is the dumbest title I've ever heard."

"You are such a cretin."

"I will point out you don't even have blood. And you're not borrowing mine."

"You seem to be missing the fictional aspect of daydreams. Maybe a little less counting and a little more creativity."

"Two-hundred forty-eight ..."

Bad Andie disappeared into wherever it is she went when she wasn't annoying Andie. The burger and fries Graham had given her were gone, but her temper was not. Oliver and Marilyn were taking way too long, making her worry the blonde bombshell was up to no good. Or maybe she was helping Oliver change into something "more comfortable." Andie had to know what was going on in that office. Wait! Cameras. Perhaps there were cameras in the office.

"Hey, Graham?"

"Yes, Miss Bank?"

"Could we change the channel on the TV? I'd like to see the fifties."

"Sure thing." He reached up and turned the knob. An establishing shot of the diner came into view. Then Andie's face filled the screen. This was not good. This was the opposite of low profile. Her face heated. Calm down, she told herself. Because the cameras would search for the most conflict. If she was boring enough, the camera might shift to something more entertaining.

She held her face expressionless, and the camera switched to a shot outside of the diner where, over the trees and the elephant carwash sign, an army of drones headed their way. "Oh, my god!" Andie said, leaping from her chair.

Graham laughed.

"What is so funny?"

"Just you. How easy it was to delay you until the drones could get here."

"You reported us?" Andie said, sparks coming out of her eyes. She knew this because once again her face appeared on the TV screen. She clenched her fists.

"I did. Marilyn asked me to."

"Just like Lando Calrissian in The Empire Strikes Back. I thought Marilyn was Oliver's friend. I suppose this is the surprise for dessert?"

"Yes. Code for 'tell the authorities.'"

He took a pie out of the case, walked over to Andie's table, and set an entire banana cream pie in front of Andie with a clean fork. He glanced at the TV, which was now showing the drones again. "This should keep you busy until they arrive." What an arrogant ass. He thought she was going to sit there and quietly eat pie, waiting to be captured.

"Oliver!" Andie screamed. "We have to get out of here. Now!"

"Andie, where are you?" It was Sterling! On the TV. Her best friend appeared as a sepia-toned image inside a crystal ball. And just like Auntie Em in the Wizard of Oz, Sterling had the most worried expression on her face. But the good news was that she knew Andie was here to rescue her! Not only that, if Sterling was worried about her, it meant the moon hadn't wholly taken her yet. Andie's heart soared.

"Sterling. I'm coming!" Andie said. "Oliver," Andie called again.

Oliver burst through the door, still in his spacesuit. Thank goodness. "What is happening?"

"Nothing," Marilyn said, trying to grab Oliver's arm. "Come back. We're not done."

"Oh, I say we are done," Andie said, picking up the pie.

"You wouldn't dare," Marilyn said.