Las Vegas, Saturday night

"Dammit Peter!" Isabel griped as once again she was bounced out of Peter's head only a second after finding him while dreamwalking. When this was all over, she was going to deck him. Or hug him till he couldn't breath, Isabel hadn't decided just yet. In the weeks he'd been missing Isabel had settled into a routine of worrying and attempting to check in on his dreams at random times. It was frustrating, but at least she knew he was still alive. Isabel didn't want to think about calling Sam if she couldn't find Peter for more then a day or two.

Daily check over, Isabel decided to take advantage of a rare Saturday night off by settling in for an evening of short track, bobsledding and whatever else NBC decided to feature for the evening.

[Open for phone calls or surprise visits.]