[The road is hypnotic, even when it turns into something freshly paved for the first time in history, or something strange he can't quite understand, a slick glassy surface that hums with electricity. New Mexico is strange - the shifts have been quick but brief at times, like too many times are warring all to be in one place. There's always been a sort of mystery to the state in urban legends, and maybe there's reason for that.

But when she wakes up and starts singing, they're in some time that's relatively normal - with his definition of "normal" now stretching half a century after all they've seen - and he leans back against her a little and smiles at the feel of her lips on his neck.]

You zoned out on me for a few hours, I think. We just passed Deming. Guess we're about halfway through our stretch of New Mexico, now. No aliens out this way.

[He grins at that dumb joke. What is it, Roswell, where those are supposed to be? Sure, part of him is awfully curious too after all he's seen, but if ultimately if there are creatures from the depths of space here in New Mexico they'd better leave them and the bike the hell alone. Virginia was bad enough.]