Roswell, late Friday afteroon

It would figure that demons would pick the night they were due home to Roswell for an early Thanksgiving dinner to start causing havoc in San Francisco. Isabel had offered to go help out but Wyatt had promised that he and Chris had things well in hand and that he would definitely turn up in time for pie.

So despite all of Portalocity’s recent issues, Isabel had booked a portal from Vegas to Roswell. It was supposed to be a simple trip, one she'd done before with no trouble. How badly could they screw it up?

Two hours and one layover in some weird pink universe later, the portal finally dropped her off. Except instead of landing in the secluded grove in the park just a block from her parents' house Isabel wound up in an alley on the other side of town. When no one answered her calls for a ride, she'd finally tracked down a taxi and made her way home, only to arrive at a dark and empty house.

Concerned, Isabel let herself in and started to look around.

( There’s no place like home. Unless it's not your home )

( Two hours later Max and Michael had a slight case of information overload )

[NFB, NFI, Pre-played with blessed_twice and with the wonderful mparkerceo stepping in to channel the alien boys. Let the BDE angst begin!]

Las Vegas, Friday Night

As soon as Wyatt orbed them back from Roswell, Isabel tossed her bag on the couch, pulled out her phone and tried to call her mother to apologize for missing dinner.

Except no one answered the phone.

Which was...odd.

"I guess you want to know what was going on," she said to Wyatt.

[Mostly for one, but calls are welcome.]