Finding Ulysses - UC Mi/L ADULT - [COMPLETE]

[Guest]

Chapter 11

The end of September rolled around the James household, which meant only one thing, Isabel’s birthday. It was the one special occasion that Kyle forbade Isabel from planning, organizing and generally stamping her Nazi act upon it. While Isabel was far from pleased that her husband had forbid her from doing anything, she had to admit a sense of excitement at what he would plan for her each year. Sometimes surprises really were fun.

When Liz was still with them, in Colorado, Kyle would enlist her help, making sure she could take care of any girlie stuff Isabel might enjoy. They were grateful for Lexi’s presence once she was born, for she aided them in keeping Isabel’s ever present nose out of the planning. An unwitting accomplice of only at few weeks of age initially. This year even though only two and half, she could take a much more active role in keeping her mommy away from the party plans, having inherited her father’s sense of sneakiness and being able to keep a secret once she was told of one.

With Liz having filed the divorce papers in early August, Kyle could hardly depend on Max to help with the party that year. Max had been in a state of shock, followed by outright frustration upon receiving those papers. He realized that his marriage indeed was one step closer to ending, when in his mind, Liz hadn’t given it a fair shot. Jesse had been very little help, not telling him Liz’s location and that all communication would go through him. How was Max supposed to plead his case to his wife if he had no idea where she was?

Jesse was able to tell him that when he had spoken to Liz, that she was happy, settled, and that Max could give her no greater gift than her freedom. That if he truly loved her, he would have recognized how unhappy she’d become and that letting her go was the only true act of love Max could show her now.

Jesse’s words hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. Max, was by no means stupid. He knew things between he and Liz had been bad for a while before he left. He’d seen how unhappy she was, and he thought he knew exactly what could bring them together. What would make their life complete, a child of their own. Only that seemed to be the one thing that had driven her away. It had been a mistake to think that child would fix things between them, but he really thought Liz wanted the same things he did. He thought their dreams were in tandem, but apparently they weren’t.

Max just wanted his wife back. She’d been gone for over a year and his heart still ached like it did the day he’d come home from work and found her gone. No note. No explanations. Just gone. Not unlike Michael had in the years prior. He hadn’t given up on finding his brother either. Until Liz left Max still hunted for clues as to Michael’s whereabouts, hoping to bring the family back together, but he realized Maria’s leaving left Michael alone. Max only hoped that Michael had managed to find Maria and they had mended their fences.

Max just wanted another chance to get things right with Liz. For better or worse? Wasn’t that what the minister had said? So, he’d mistakenly thought Liz wanted children. He told himself he could handle not expanding their family, if it meant Liz would return to him. He had a son out there, with another family, but he could survive knowing he had a legacy, even if Zan didn’t carry his name. And maybe in time, once they worked things out, Liz’s refusal to bear children would soften. Maybe more time spent with Lexi, would help her see the joy a child could bring. Maybe.

So with Max preoccupied and seemingly more driven to find Liz than ever, Kyle had to once again, though it was risky, enlist the help of he co-party planner, Liz. As he sat back surveying the party that had come together, a small affair, a Mardi Gras theme, with some of Isabel’s co-workers and his employees, Max and Lexi, Kyle chuckled at the memory of calling Liz one morning, only to have the phone answered by a winded Michael.

~*~Three Weeks Earlier~*~

The phone at the Joyce-Jeffries household was on it’s fourth ring and Kyle was preparing to hang up when strained and seemingly exhausted male voice picked up.

“This better be the literal end of the world, James!” Michael panted.

“How did you...?” Kyle asked a bit surprised by the fact that Michael seemed to know who was calling before he picked up the phone, and the way his friend sounded.

“Caller ID, genius... What do you want?” Michael nearly groaned.

Kyle furrowed his brow, “You okay there, Yogi? I get the grump factor, that’s a perpetual state of being with you, but you seem out of breath...and I know you don’t jog...”

Kyle cut his own words off as his eyes widened with realization at what other extra-curricular activity might leave his friend so winded....and with whom. “Oh shit!’ he exclaimed, “Oh man...I am so sorry.... I can call back later....you finish...yeah um...”

“Ahhh...” Michael groaned, “Don’t worry about it Kyle.... Liz....Dammit, it’s Kyle.... ah...stop...Liz....What do you need, Mini Me?”

Kyle stifled his building laughter at the idea of Michael fighting off little Liz’s advances, “Um.... actually I need to talk to Liz.... So...uh... if you could get her to remove whatever part of her body is currently attached to yours...um I’ll make it quick... not that you would...I uh...”

“Ha. Ha.” Michael said dryly, his breath slowing down, Kyle assuming he’d gotten Liz to stop, albeit reluctantly, whatever it was she’d been doing to him. “Here she is. I’m gonna run while I still can, though why I’m running I blame on you.”

Kyle heard the phone shuffled between hands, and even though Liz had her hand over the phone he could here her words to what had to have been a retreating Michael, “Sure run...wussy! Just remember I know where you live!”

Kyle was wiping away tears of laughter when Liz finally greeted him with an annoyed, “Hey Kyle.”

“Of the ways I imagined you two telling us you’d finally got together, that was not even remotely close...” Kyle said falling into another fit of laughter.

Liz growled comically, “Well, we were going to call you today...After... but your timing always sucked, Kyle.”

“I won’t go with the obvious joke there Ms. Jeffries, given what you were probably doing to General Destruction...”

“Kyle...” Liz warned.

“I know. I know. I’ll stop. But you can hardly blame me. I have this pent up sarcasm to aim at my oversized alien friend. A man can only be so strong.” Kyle explained.

“Believe it or not he misses it.” Liz said honestly.

“Yeah, well, I sorta... miss the ...asshole too.” Kyle said uncomfortable with expressing his emotions for Michael, though it was the truth.

“So, what was so important that you had to ruin my...” Liz was about to say “fun” but Kyle interrupted her.

“...Breakfast?” he teased, bracing himself.

“Kyle Valenti!” Liz nearly screamed into the phone.

Kyle heard Michael chuckling in the background at what he could only imagine was Liz’s red face and wide eyes of indignation.

“Dude, she used your real name.” Michael cackled, “You are so dead!”

“I don’t know who’s worse, you or Michael.” Liz growled, though trying hard to suppress her own laughter.

Kyle quirked an eyebrow, “So, tell me I’m wrong and I’ll apologize to you. If not, its Michael I owe the apology to.” Through the pause on the other end of the line Kyle could hear Michael snickering at what had too be a seething and red-faced Liz, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You are definitely worse than Michael.” Liz grumbled.

“Guess I’m gonna have to try harder.” Kyle heard Michael say and then heard the rustling of sheets. An uncharacteristic whiny groan come from his burly friend, “Aw.... Liz... Come on! I was just kidding! You didn’t have to cover up. Babe...” he called out to Kyle, “ Hey Moron! Quit getting me in trouble.”

Kyle rolled his eyes at the couple on the other end of the line, though he was glad to hear the playfulness instead of the tension that had existed in the weeks prior.

“As much as I’d love to listen to you two play grab ass...” Kyle said dryly, getting Liz’s attention, “I was calling for a reason.”

“You sure?” Liz challenged, “Its cheaper than those 1-900 numbers you used to call that first year on the run.” she blew out an puff of air, “ Entertainment expenses my ass.”

Kyle’s eyes widened immediately, “How did you...? Guerin!”

Liz’s laughter rang out and she looked over at Michael perched in the armchair, “Ooooo he used you’re real name. You are soooo dead!”

“Got to see you naked, Liz. I can go in peace.” Michael mused, earning a tossed pillow to the head.

Kyle cleared his throat and Liz returned her attention to him, “I’m sorry Kyle. What did you need?”

Kyle bit his lip against yet another biting remark, knowing they’d never accomplish anything with the friendly ribbing that was being done, “Isabel’s birthday party...Help.”

“Oh....” Liz said in a sing song voice, ‘You know just for future reference, when you wanna sweet talk a girl into helping you.... its best not to mock her sexual appetites.”

“You have, appetites?” Kyle couldn’t resist.

“You know you can plan this party by yourself, Cowboy.” Liz grumbled, feigning indignance.

“No!” Kyle said desperately, “It’s the one special occasion all year where Isabel doesn’t go all Nazi on me. Please.... it has to be amazing. You know that, Liz! I’m sorry. Kyle was a very bad boy.”

Liz laughed, “I’m not a dominatrix, Kyle.”

“Not this week.” He and Michael both said.

Liz growled loudly in surrender...

~*~

Kyle sat back watching Isabel laughing with some co-workers, enjoying a party that never would have been successful if Liz had decided to hang up on his childish ass that morning.

After the party Isabel, Kyle, Lexi and Max went back to the James household for coffee and family presents. Isabel had gone straight from work to the party that afternoon, so she was more than a little surprised to see two large, flat rectangular packages sitting in her entryway.

“What are these?” She asked, unsure who else she could have received a gift from.

Her parents had sent her a palm pilot so she could organize everything electronically. She’d hoped to get at least a card from Michael and Liz, but understood with Max being ever present that, that was a risky proposition. Still judging by the size and odd shape... they could have been...

“Um...” Kyle scratched his head, unsure of what to say with Max standing right next to them, “They came this morning. Thought you might want to open them, last. He emphasized the, hoping Isabel would get the hint that maybe Max shouldn’t be around when she did unveil the mystery gifts.

Lexi shook her head at her daddy, “ They’re from Auntie Liz.” she said excitedly.

Isabel had a half a second to exchange an apologetic glance with her husband for not catching on sooner, before Max spoke up. Of course they were from Liz...and Michael. Oh this was not the way for him to find about everything. Not today. Not on her birthday.

“From Liz? Really?” Max asked almost out of breath as he ran a hand over the brown paper encasing the presents. His eyes searched wildly around the packages, “Was there a return address?”

“No.” Kyle said quickly, wiggling his fingers at his wife, letting her know he’d gotten rid of the gallery’s name from the packaging. Max’s face sunk, having grasped at hope for a moment that he might discover his wife’s whereabouts.


“Max?” Isabel put on a cheery voice, “Why don’t you help Kyle move these into the living room so I can open them properly.”

Max snapped out of his momentary depression and nodded picking up the larger of the two packages and took it into the living room with an overexcited hopping around him. Isabel hung back with her husband for a moment.

“What about Lexi? All she has to do is mention Michael’s name and Max will know...”

Kyle planted a soft kiss on his wife’s lips, “Don’t worry. I told her it was okay to say it was from Auntie Liz, but that Uncle Grumpy wanted it to be a secret. Told her he was shy. She’ll do okay. She hasn’t spilled the beans yet.”

“But what if he figures it out, Kyle? I can’t keep lying to him. He’s my brother.” Isabel said through teary eyes.

“And so is Michael, Is. And Liz... she’s like your sister... hell she brought our daughter into the world.” Kyle reasoned, “You and I made a promise between us, to let Michael and Liz have some time together before...”

“I know. I know.” Isabel sighed, “They didn’t ask us to hide them anymore, but they need some time before Max finds out. He’ll find out when he’s supposed to.”

Kyle hugged his wife and smiled, “If its any consolation, I don’t think it’ll be that much longer.”

Isabel gave her husband a weak smile, “Yeah, I should be reveling in this time before the shit hits the fan.”

Kyle chuckled, “It ain’t gonna be pretty when it does.” he tugged on her hand as he picked up the other package, “Come on birthday girl.”

Kyle set down Liz, (and Michael’s) gift next to the one Max had brought in and chuckled at his hyper daughter jumping up and down begging her mommy to let her open Auntie Liz’s presents. Isabel shook her head and let her daughter do just that, eliciting an ear piercing squeal from the tot.

Lexi tore into the first package revealing a painting, no doubt by Michael’s hand, and the room was silent for a moment as tears pricked Isabel’s eyes.

“Where is it, Mommy?” Lexi asked.

“New Orleans, honey.” Kyle whispered. Lexi looked up at her father, who gave her a quick wink and she smiled brightly.

Indeed it was one of Michael’s New Orleans paintings, except this one was much more personal. He’d managed to capture one of New Orleans newer children, Ulysses standing proud on Bourbon Street. He was giving Isabel her first glimpse at his home and the life he’d made for himself.

Isabel took in every detail, knowing it was her brother who’d picked out every color, and delivered every brush stroke on the canvas, capturing his new life in all its glory, including, though somewhat hidden, the various players.

There was an older black man standing outside the bar smoking a pipe and chatting with a late forties redhead, whom Isabel guessed to be Sweet and Miriam. The newest members of the Alien club and, as Liz had explained it, Michael’s surrogate parents.

Just inside, hidden by shadows, Isabel could see the back of Liz, dark hair flowing around her as she wiped down tables. And just behind the mirrored bar, watching Liz, was Michael. To the untrained eye not easily recognizable, but to his sister he stood out like a neon sign.

“Its amazing.” she whispered, grasping at Kyle’s hand to stave off tears she didn’t want to shed in front of Max.

“Does this mean Liz is in New Orleans?” Max asked, almost excitedly, interrupting Isabel’s tears.

“I...Uh... don’t think so. She probably just picked it up on her way through there.” Kyle covered.

“Yeah.” Isabel agreed, finding it easier to lie to Max about Liz when she saw the happiness in Michael’s painting, “We always talked about going there someday and she probably saw this and thought if I couldn’t go to New Orleans a piece of it could come to me.”

Max nodded, “That sounds like Liz.” he said wistfully.

“Open other one? Pleeeeeaaaasssse!” Lexi begged.

“Go on munchkin.” Kyle told his daughter.

Lexi tore the next painting open and stood back, with laughter, “It me Mommy!”

Isabel gasped, unable to hide her tears this time. Michael had painted a portrait of her daughter, with all the love and care a photo never did enough justice for. She’d been pleading with Kyle to have something like that done and here her brother had done it for her.

“Beautiful.” She whispered, letting a tear fall on her cheek, burying her face in Kyle’s shoulder.

Max studied each painting a few questions coming to mind. He saw the initials at the bottom of each piece and realized it was the same artist. Not to mention the fact that the portrait was a recent likeness to his niece. Something was going on and some things were coming together.

“It’s the same artist.” he said, through his teeth.

“What?” Isabel asked, wiping her eyes.

“These paintings,” Max said pointing to them “They were done by the same artist....and this one of Lexi...that was recent... How... you’ve been sending Liz photos! You know where she is!”

“Lower your voice.” Isabel hissed, casting a glance down to her Lexi who’d grabbed onto her daddy’s leg when Max raised his voice.

Kyle knelt down to his daughter’s level and asked her to go play in her room. Not needing to be told twice, Lexi shuffled out of the room, leaving the grown-ups to talk.

“Yes, we keep in contact with Liz, Max.” Kyle explained, “She’s Lexi’s aunt...”

“And she’s my damn wife!” Max bellowed.

“Seems to me she doesn’t want to be! Big clue? The divorce papers you’ve yet to sign, Genius” Kyle returned.

“Both of you stop!” Isabel yelled, placing a hand on her husband’s chest, willing him to calm down and turned to Max.

“Liz has asked us not to tell you where she is and we respect that Max.” she explained.

“But....” Max tried to interject but was met with Isabel’s icy stare.

“No buts. You are my brother and I love you, but I’m not going to forsake Liz just for that reason. She moves from place to place and calls us from time to time so we can send her photos of Lexi.” She told him honestly, “She delivered her for God’ sake and she’s still my fried. That’s supposed to mean something.”

“And being your brother doesn’t?” Max balked.

“Don’t play that card, Max. It won’t work. Liz left because she had to, whether you want to believe it or not. Kyle and I have respected her wishes, I think its time you did too.” Isabel softened.

“Is she in New Orleans?” Max asked through his teeth.

Isabel looked back at Kyle and he nodded his head, realizing it was his turn to take over the conversation. It was time to lie and he didn’t want Isabel to have to be the one to do it, “She was. She saw that painting in a gallery and knew it was for Isabel. And since she liked the artist so much she commissioned them to do a portrait of Lexi. I think once that was done she moved on.”

Max shook his head, upset that his sister and brother-in-law would keep the information from him, but satisfied with their answer, “What kind of life is she making for herself running away from me?”

“A life on her own, Max.” Isabel said placing a hand on his shoulder, “But she’ll stop running if you just let her go.”

Max looked up at his sister with tear filled eyes, “I-I can’t, Is. Not when there’s still hope.”

“Is there? Really?” Kyle asked him, knowing full well Max had no chance of ever winning Liz’s love again, not with Michael literally in the picture.

~*~

Halloween Night, New Orleans


Michael walked into the studio, a rare grin etched on his face at the days events. His eyes fell immediately to Liz, standing on the balcony, seemingly the reason for his recent bout with happy expressions. His grin widened to a full fledged smile as he made his way across the room to his dark -haired beauty wondering, with his artist’s eyes, if the moonlight bent, just to touch her.

The sounds of the party goblins, squeezing the last bit of fun out of the nefarious holiday, filled the night air. Various inappropriate proposals were flung at the burgundy evening dress clad young woman on the balcony and she waved them off with a pitying laugh. She returned her eyes to the night sky when she felt a pair of large, but familiar arms wrap around her body and she turned to face her admirer.

“Get any good offers yet?” Michael teased her having heard the cat calls on his way to her.

Liz shook her head and smirked, “Nope. But then again, I haven’t heard yours yet.”

Michael narrowed his eyes and slid his hands, from their place at her bared back, down to the swell of her bottom pressing her closer to him roughly. Liz gasped excitedly and her hands instinctively grasped at his tuxedo shirt collar.

“Gotta warn ya....” Michael said low and dangerous, his lips teasing hers with their closeness, “...I can be just as filthy as they were.”

Liz smiled, pulling away just as Michael attempted to lock his mouth with hers, “Yeah,” she teased curling a lock of his hair around her finger, “Well, I don’t love them.”

“Advantage me.” he grinned, finally capturing her lips, with one more rough tug of her body to his.

They were broken from their passionate exchange by the drunken calls of a group of dragged out frat boys. Liz buried her head in Michael’s chest and he shrugged his shoulders at the group.

“Sorry guys, she can’t perform in front of a crowd!” he called out, “Stage fright!”

Liz smacked his chest indignantly, but Michael held her close anyway, until her laughter mixed with his own. When the laughter died into the night air, Liz let out a contented sigh across Michael’s collar bone.

“It really was a beautiful wedding tonight.” she said wistfully.

Michael nodded against her hair, “Yeah, definitely better than the last one you were in.” He chuckled as Liz growled low in her throat, “Never thought I’d have a wedding in the bar, let alone on Halloween.

Liz pulled her face out of Michael’s chest to look up at him, A lot of traditions were forsaken tonight, Dear. The bar. The night. The music. The lack of a white dress... on anyone. But it was perfect. Unconventional, but perfect.

“Well I don’t exactly think the bride or groom in this case have ever been really stuck on conventions.” Michael added.

Liz nodded, “Well put.” And then scrunched up her face, “But Halloween?”

Michael tipped his head back in laughter, “That is one tradition Sweet would never forsake. All of his marriages took place on a holiday of some sort. Why should his wedding to Miriam have been any different?”

Liz raised an eyebrow at her beau, “Well, given Sweet’s track record with wives.... You’d think he woulda mixed it up a little bit. But I guess that’s your old man, huh?” When Michael nodded, Liz giggled, “Halloween? Was Thanksgiving taken?”

“Yep. Wife Number Four, Roxy.” Michael answered, “Three, Amanda, was on New Years Eve. Two, Linsey was on Valentines Day. And Number One, Doris, was on Christmas. Now there’s Number Five, Miriam, on Halloween.

Liz shook her head, “Well, I hope Miriam is the last Mrs. Johnston. Sweet’s gonna run out of holidays if she isn’t.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Michael disagreed, “He still has Easter, St. Patrick’s Day, and Fourth of July.” he snapped his fingers, “Oh and we can’t forget Flag Day. Not an often remembered holi...”

“Michael...” Liz warned, tickling his stomach with her fingers.

“Kidding.” Michael said, jumping away from Liz’s light assault on his sensitive stomach.

“They have to make it.” Liz said with a grin, “If they split up, who’d get custody of you? I mean would it be every other weekend at Sweet’s with a month in the summer and alternating holidays, assuming Sweet isn’t marrying wife Number Six at that time...”

Michael placed his index finger over Liz’s lips, “As hilarious as you are, Liz... I really think Mir, is it for Sweet.” His face sobered, “I asked him the same thing tonight. I mean as much as I love the old guy, I’d have to maul him a bit if he hurt Miriam.”

“And here I thought you were a Daddy’s boy.” Liz teased.

Michael shook his head, “Its all about the ladies with me.” he said arrogantly.

“Ugh!” Liz groaned, “If I didn’t know you were the reincarnated clone of a long dead general from another galaxy...I’d swear you were Sweet’s biological child.”

“Little too pale for that don’t you think?” Michael joked, “But he did call me his ‘soul child’.”

Liz smiled, “Born of different means, but always meant to be his?”

“Something like that.” Michael blushed, at so much parental love being aimed at him after so many years without it, “I really do think that this is Sweet’s last marriage. Something he told me tonight after the ceremony. He told me that when he thought he was dying, he thought about the heartache he’d been through and caused with all his marriages. He loved too much and spread it too thin, He said with Mir, he’s gonna be selfish and keep all his love with her.”

Liz’s eyes teared up at Michael’s relaying of Sweet’s words about his new wife, “That man just earns his nickname on a daily basis, doesn’t he?”

Michael wiped away a stray tear that had fallen on Liz’s cheek and furrowed his brow at a question that had been running through his own mind since he and Liz has finally admitted their feelings for each other. With her own marriage failing and the heartache it had caused bother her and Max, would Liz be jaded towards the idea of marrying again. Marrying him.

“H-How do you feel about it?” he finally asked, summing up the courage.

“About marriage? Or getting married again?” she sniffed, somehow knowing this conversation was coming and yet not knowing until Michael asked, what her answer might be.


“I guess... both.” Michael answered.

Liz stood back for him for a moment, still holding his hand, and studying his face. He was nervous and avoided her eyes, looking anywhere but at her. He as afraid at what her answer might be.

“Are you proposing, Michael?” she asked bringing her hand up to grip his chin, force him to answer her with his eyes locked on her own.

Was he? The words, “Will you marry me?”, hadn’t exactly escaped his lips but was the implication there? Why else would such a thought be running so rampant through his mind and heart in the past months?

Sure he’d entertained the idea of marriage with Maria years ago, but something inside both of them knew it would never come to fruition. Almost a premonition, that while they loved each other, their time wasn’t forever. But with Liz, nothing felt more tangible and real to him. Forever, lay comfortably in her eyes without question. Hell yes. He’d marry her tomorrow if Max would only sign those damn divorce papers.

Michael scratched his eyebrow, barely able to hold Liz’s intense gaze, sure in his heart what he felt, but so scared of what verbalizing it could bring.

“No...” he said knowing it was a lie, “I mean... uh...I don’t know....” Pony up big man, take the risk, “Maybe....” He met her eyes and found his confidence. He tugged her into his arms, matching the intensity she’d just displayed in her eyes, “Would it be so terrible? Marrying me?”

Liz’s eyes widened. He was serious and she was frightened, “Its only been a couple months, Mich...”

“Its been a lifetime, Liz.” Michael countered, reminding her of the very words she’d spoken to him about their time apart when she’d first arrived at Ulysses. She couldn’t use time as an excuse.

“Michael... I can’t.” Liz said weakly, immediately feeling Michael’s disappointment in the loosening hold he had around her and the utter rejection that overtook his face. Oh, she’d handled this all wrong.

“I-I... see...” Michael whispered, dropping his arms from her body but his legs unable to walk away from her, trying to run away from rejection, like he had so many times before. All he could do was turn away, not wanting Liz to see how much he’d wanted her to say, “Yes”.

“Hey...” Liz said insistently, grabbing Michael’s arm, “You don’t ‘see’ anything. Look at me, Michael.”

He sighed heavily and reluctantly turned back around to face her, ashamed of the tears that wet his cheeks.

“Just because I can’t marry you, doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Michael.” Liz explained, feeling a bit indignant at Michael not knowing that fact alone. “You know that’s true. Or have we been wasting our time these past two months?”

“Of course not!” Michael growled, angry that Liz would even imply what had been the happiest time in his life was a waste.

“Then please...” Liz softened, “... hear me out.”

With Michael’s nod, Liz began pacing, taxing her mind for words to feelings she wasn’t sure she knew how to properly express. How could she help Michael understand that she knew what his proposal meant, the courage it had taken him to admit he felt that much for her and that her refusal to accept, wasn’t a rejection of him, but the institution.

“I can’t deny that my failure with Max has a lot to do with it, but I also know you aren’t Max...” She watched Michael roll his eyes, and knew she wasn’t getting through, “For the longest time I’ve been going along with what people told me was right, because I was too scared to question if it was right for me. That this secure little bubble that had been created for me, that I helped grow, would protect me forever.

“Even when that bubble burst, the day Max healed me, a new one was created. So much was unknown and scary to me, so I fell back on what I knew, which more often than not was do what I was told was right. I believed that so much I let myself believe that what people were telling me was what my heart really desired. I did it with everyone... my parents, my teachers, Max, Maria.... even you Michael.”

“What?” Michael asked stunned that he’d been included in that list.

“Please. Just let me finish.” Liz pleaded, “I accepted a lot of what I was told was right, even though my heart tended to argue. The only time I think I truly made a free choice, where my heart and mind agreed without question... was loving you, Michael. You taught me how to live caring about people, but not letting what they think rule my world.

“So, yeah if Max signs those papers I could marry you. But I happen to think we’re beyond needing labels if we know what’s true in our hearts.”

“And that’s, what, to you, Liz?” Michael asked needing to hear the words to fully understand what she was trying to say, although his sense of rejection was already fading fast.

Liz closed the distance between them, taking Michael’s hands in her own, grateful he hadn’t flinched away. “What’s true, to me, is that I don’t need a minister, priest, rabbi, judge... whatever, to bless us. To tell us we love each other or for that to even be recognized by anyone other than us. And I damn sure don’t need a piece of paper to tell me that you are my family, Michael.”

Michael let Liz’s words sink in and found their pure truth in them. She was right, he hated labels and he didn’t like having people tell him what to do or how to feel. He’d taken enough orders in two lifetimes. What was it about this woman that made him temporarily forget that fact?

“You know,” he said with a smile, brining his arms around her once again, “it really annoying when you remind me that while I have philosophy in my life, I don’t always live by it... But thanks.”

“Anytime.” Liz grinned leaning up on her toes to peck Michael’s lips.

“So Little Liz Parker is up for living in sin with me... I think I can handle that.” Michael mused.

“Sin keeps things more interesting anyway. Don’t you think? And I told you, it’s Jeffries.”

Michael nodded, “Definitely more interesting. And I told you, you’ll always be Parker to me.”

Before Liz could protest Michael kissed her hard and insistently, knowing full well the drugging effect his kisses had on her. When he was met with her dopey gaze after parting he knew he’d accomplished his goal.

“I hate that you know how good you are at that.” Liz laughed.

“Its best to know what skills you have in your arsenal and use them for all their worth. Something I learned in my days on the Antarian battlefields.” Michael said with pomposity.

“But I’m guessing the ability to bullshit endlessly was skill that came naturally.” Liz countered.

“Of course.” he answered to which Liz rolled her eyes at his feigned arrogance.

Michael hadn’t forgotten his original plan for seduction when he’d come out onto the balcony and eyed Liz with a newfound hunger, “Since you turned down my first proposal, maybe you’ll feel inclined accept my second one.”

“Perhaps.” Liz played along, “Depends on how indecent it is.”

Michael smirked and whispered his highly potent suggestion in her ear, causing Liz to blush furiously in girlish embarrassment and womanly intrigue.

“Is that even legal?’ she asked, near breathless by his suggestion.

Michael shook his head, “I’m sure its not, but you love to live dangerously. And if we’re going to keep up this living in sin thing, I want it to be heavy on the sin.”

“Amen.” Liz breath before Michael claimed her mouth again.

~*~

TBC...

[Guest]

Late November: New Orleans

Michael and Sweet had been on the road for hours. Making their way from Memphis back home to the haven their Lady provided and the precious hearts she kept watch over in their absence. They had just spent the better part of five days helping a friend and former patron open a bar of his own, one similar to Ulysses, leaving their respective mates to mind each other and the bar.

Now Michael sped down the highway at NASCAR speeds, despite his fatigue. Sweet sat next to him gripping the door handle beside him.

“Son, being a newlywed, I understand you haven’t seen your lady in five days, but I’d like to see my bride in one piece. And seeing as I’ve filled my near death experience quota for the year, could ya slow down a bit?”

Michael looked down at the speedometer , a little surprised himself at the speeds at which he’d been traveling and eased his foot off the gas as Sweet had requested.

“Sorry Pop... just uh... anxious is all.” Michael said sheepishly. Sweet chuckled at the boy’s choice of words and patted his shoulder.

Michael had been reluctant to go on the trip at all, not because he didn’t want to help Mr. Traynor, but because he’d be leaving Liz to fend for herself at the bar, while she was taking her classes at the university. Once classes had started in early September, Liz had taken to finishing up her studies when she returned home from the university, with the bar just opening and headed upstairs an hour before it closed to finish up any last minute studying. Even though she knew the material backwards and forwards, Michael would shoo her up the stairs, her education taking much higher priority than balancing the bars books, a task he could easily do on his own.

But even with the Thanksgiving holiday approaching, finals were just around the corner and Michael wanted to make sure she had every available minute to study. Leaving her to run Ulysses for five days was hardly conducive to good study habits.

Liz had convinced him to go help Mr. Traynor, a man who’d been one of his first and more loyal customers in the early days of Ulysses, when she promised she’d close the bar early every night, so she could study, even though they’d lose some prime time business. But Michael had underestimated the team that Sweet and Miriam had become, and that Sweet had been privy to a majority of Michael’s arguments with Liz about his leaving.

Not wanting her son to lose any important holiday business, and knowing he was much too prideful to ask for help, Miriam confronted Michael one morning over coffee and rolls waiting for Liz to get out of class.

“Sug, you know I can help Liz with the bar for a few days. How do you think I earned the money to buy my gallery? Pumping beers, pouring shots and kickin’ out the rowdies. All ya have to do is ask.”

Michael shook his head, “I would, Mir, but I don’t want to take you away from the gallery. Christmas is coming up and...”

“And my gallery doesn’t keep bar hours, young man. I close up shop at eight, sometimes earlier. I can close up the bar and do the books.” she argued, quirking an eyebrow at the reluctant young man, “Besides, you aren’t foolin’ anyone with your macho act. You just don’t want to be away from Liz.”

Michael opened his mouth to protest but Mir gave him a warning glance not to interrupt her, “Now I know you two were apart for a long spell and ya’ll are in the honeymoon phase... I know a thing or two about that, if you recall it’ll be my husband joining you on this little trip. But trust me, the way you two go at it...” she rolled her eyes comically, “Liz might just need the break. Don’t get me wrong I’ll be mighty anxious myself with Sweet bein’ away...”

“Miriam!” Michael whined, “If I ask you to do this, will you stop talking about my sex life and yours? There’s a major ick factor in play.” he mock shuddered.

Miriam chuckled, “You know, Baby, old people do it too.”

Michael groaned, his face red, “Yeah but I have an active imagination and that’s one place it doesn’t need to go.”

Michael should have known the Fates had it in for him, when a few days before his trip Liz, “went in for repairs”, as Michael affectionately liked to call her period. Michael cursed her monthly cycle for being so damn punctual.

“Sorry Michael, but it’s not like my body takes requests to stop work when you’re in the mood.” Liz teased.

“Yeah” Michael grumbled, “Well, when you become a big fancy molecular biologist, that’s the first project I want you to work on.”

“I knew there was a reason you were so gung ho about my education.” she giggled.

“What can I say?” Michael sighed in mock arrogance, “I am a selfish bastard.”

The Fates still seemed to be holding a grudge against Michael, when after the long road trip to Memphis, he and Sweet arrived at their hotel to find that their reservations had been lost and they wound up having to share a room, thankfully, with two beds, but any kind of long distance phone seduction he had planned with Liz was then null and void with his father in the room.

Now Sweet and Michael had always been frank with each other, sharing many a conversation that would have made Hugh Hefner blush. But somehow Michael felt it a little too weird asking his dad to leave the room for an hour so he could have phone sex with Liz. Sin, had just found its limit.

Michael’s involuntary brush with celibacy, had one positive effect that showed in his work ethic. Michael had by no means been a slacker when it came to business, but he seemed more focused and driven to help Mr. Traynor, taking on tasks usually left to the laborers, but found the physical work more satisfying and kept his mind off of Liz stretched out on the living room couch in her hockey jersey, pen dangling from her mouth deeply involved in yet another article on gene splicing. Sexy came in so may forms with her.

To say Michael felt edgy by the time he and Sweet left Memphis, would have been an understatement. He’d never worked so hard in his life as he had in the past days and every muscle in his body ached with the punishment such rigorous efforts afforded. But he couldn’t bring himself to care as every mile brought him closer to home.

Sweet chuckled as they parked they car behind Ulysses and Michael, though thoroughly weary, shot out of the car retrieving their bags before Sweet had even managed to step one foot out of the vehicle. It was late, and the bar had closed just twenty minutes before they’d arrived, so Michael, feeling more comfortable about using his otherworldly gifts in front of Sweet, unlocked the front door with his powers.

Miriam looked up from her place behind the bar, tallying up the nights receipts, exchanging an amused chuckle with her husband at Michael obviously fatigued, but in a wild-eyed state of anticipation of seeing his girlfriend.

“Glad you made it back in one piece.” she mused coming from behind the bar to greet her two favorite men.

“Just barely.” Sweet shook his head, winking at Michael.

Michael’s eyes kept darting to the door and the apartment stairs, but he knew he should stay and finish the books, letting Miriam and Sweet get home. With one unconsciously heavy sigh and longing glance upstairs Michael set his and Sweet’s bags down, and made his way behind the bar to take over the books.

Miriam exchanged a look with Sweet, and the old man shrugged his shoulders casting a sympathetic glance towards his son. Miriam shook her head and held her hand up to Michael pushing him from out behind the bar.

“I don’t think so, Sug.” she told him sternly. At Michael confused face she snickered, “Good Lord boy, I believe if you don’t get upstairs and see Liz in another minute, you’ll positively burst all over the bar. And quite frankly, the only turkey I want to be cleaning up tomorrow, is the one going in my oven. Now scoot.”

Michael didn’t need to be told twice and with a great smile grabbed Miriam’s face, giving her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, making his way with lightening speed toward the apartment stairs.

“Don’t forget you’re coming to our house early to help with Thanksgiving dinner!” Sweet called out to the blurring figure of his son.

“We’ll be late!” Michael threw back, entirely serious.

“You always are, Sug!” Miriam returned, laughing her way into Sweet’s embrace.

Michael took the apartment stairs three at a time, peeking in the window before entering. He saw Liz’s dark hair peeking out from the end of the couch and the tips of her knees hanging over the edge of the cushion. She was asleep.

Michael had only recently noticed that while when she slept beside him, Liz would stretch her whole body out against his, molding herself to his every curve. But when he happened to get out of bed before her to make the morning coffee, he’d always come back to the bedroom and find her curled up in a ball with the sheet wrapped tightly around her body, a pale substitute for his body heat.

Foregoing a dramatic entrance, Michael simply crept inside the apartment, mindful not to make any noise. Her kicked off his shoes, wincing at the thud they made against the hardwood floor, and with as much stealth as he could muster made his way into the living room.

Indeed Liz was fast asleep on the couch, her little body balled up, wearing not her hockey jersey, but one of his black Motorhead t-shirts, and her textbook lay open on the floor. Michael shook his head at the simple beauty before him and knew this scene would definitely end up in his next show.

A surge of lust began curling through his stomach at the sight, sexier than anything he’d conjured up in his mind those lonely nights in his hotel room. As serene a picture as Liz made, and as nice as it would have been for Michael to simply pick her up and take her to bed, saving the ravaging until morning, he reminded himself that he was, on occasion, a very selfish bastard. He had a rep to uphold.

Tossing aside his own t-shirt Michael knelt next to his sleeping temptress, grimacing at the strain he was already feeling of his arousal, confined in once baggy jeans. Starting at Liz’s ankle, he began dropping light kisses up her leg, stopping at her knee when she shifted slightly to stretch out, his name escaping her lips in a sleepy mumble.

Michael grinned wickedly and ran his hands up her thighs pushing the shirt up her body. He was met with slight disappointment when he saw a pair of black panties covering her.

“Sure, you pick now to wear underwear.” he grumbled.

Liz shifted again moaning slightly and Michael bit his lip, willing himself to keep his inner monologue, inner. He was about to attempt to remove the offending garment without waking her when one of her hands moved up to her shirt, caressing her own breast through the material, freezing Michael’s movements, his attention raptly focused on her.

He felt his mouth grow dry with his increasingly labored breathing as he watched, Liz, seemingly still deep in slumber, pinch at her own nipple, making it strain against the fabric of the cotton encasing her body. The mere action seemed to have the same effect on it’s twin. Michael licked his lips deciding to help her along, eventually she’d wake up and either way, he was sure she’d have a smile on her face. He drew his hand up her thigh delicately stroking his fingers over her clothed heat, feeling the rush of moisture his touch brought her.

The breathy moan that escaped her lips caused Michael to shut his eyes as it hardened him impossibly more. Taking his hand away from Liz for a moment, and seeking to relieve the unbearable strain against his jeans, he unfastened them, releasing his erection. Now the only pain came from wanting to be inside her, but with the show she was putting on, it was a pain he could definitely endure for a little while longer.

With highly restrained ease Michael shed his jeans and climbed onto the couch delicately lifting Liz’s now splayed legs to rest in his lap, careful that she not come in contact with his erection. She was still massaging her breasts and her hip and begun to rotate, seemingly waiting for his fingers to return to her lower region, quelling the ache he’d stirred inside her. Obligingly Michael traced his finger back up the inside of her thigh and stroked her lightly over her panties.

Liz arched off the couch a bit when he touched her again and let a soft whimper escape her lips, Michael watching with utter fascination. Deciding the effort to actually remove the panties, might wake her, he moved them aside to touch unencumbered skin. He was more than a little taken aback when Liz’s other hand moved down to join his, batting it away as her brow furrowed.

“What the hell?” Michael muttered, but quickly became enlightened when Liz’s hand inched beneath her own panties. Michael’s eyes widened. She wasn’t really going to...? They weren’t strangers to sexual adventure, but... And it was one thing to imagine her on the phone...

“Mmmm...” Liz whispered, as her finger brushed over her clit and down to her moist folds. Michael couldn’t help but groan, wishing he could tear away that damn black cloth.

Liz arched her hips as she dipped a finger into her wetness, once again, merely brushing her clit with her thumb and letting out a shaky gasp. Her smooth leg accidently brushed Michael’s erection, causing him to moan again tipping his head back against the wall, his hair touching the edge of the Dangerous painting. God, she was asleep and she was killing him. The talents of Liz were growing daily.

Michael might have been content to mimic Liz’s actions on himself but the motion of her leg against his arousal was providing enough friction to keep him on the edge. He gripped her leg gently to encourage her motions while his eyes remained on her, unable to tear himself away from Liz pleasuring herself in front of him.

As her pace began to increase, both their breathing picked up, Liz’s pants and moans occasionally taking on words resembling English, calling out God’s name, eyes still tightly shut. They were so very close when...

“Oh David....!” Liz rasped, “David... we can’t...Michael will be home soon...”

Michael’s jaw dropped and any pleasure he’d been receiving prior to her utterances were quickly forgotten.

“David?” He said with still labored gasps, his brow beyond furrowed in would be anger, “Who the fuck is David?!”

Liz opened her eyes and a wicked grin crept over her face. She removed her hand from herself and brought her leg up to Michael’s face tipping it towards her, “Hey, you kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?”

Michael was too frustrated, and approaching anger, to really notice the devilish glint in Liz’s eyes. He pushed her leg away and scowled at her, crossing his arms over his chest, “I sure as hell don’t when she’s calling out another man’s name in her sleep.”

Instead of the protestations Michael was expecting from her, Liz fell into a fit of giggles at the state he had brought himself too. Michael eyed her suspiciously tipping his head back against the wall in embarrassment. It had been too good to be true.

“So at what point did you wake up?” he asked, trying not to laugh at his own arrogance.

Liz let out another giggle, wiping her eyes, “I’d say about the second set of stairs your feet hit on the way up. I know you love Doc Martens, Michael, but they are not exactly quiet shoes.”

Michael shook his head, doing his best to keep his scowl in full effect, “So here I was thinking I was getting the show of a lifetime and your were just toying with me?”

Liz taxed her brain for a moment and nodded, “Yup.”

“I am such a chump.” Michael grumbled.

Liz sat up kneeling next to him, “Ego a little bruised, Babe?” she asked, with feigned pity.

Michael wouldn’t look her in the eye, doing his best to try and maintain some of his pride, “I think it was the ‘David’ thing that put it over the top, Dear.” He finally turned his head, staring at her, “You never answered my question. Who the fuck is David?”

Liz rolled her eyes, “David Duchovny. There was an X-Files marathon on F/X this afternoon....and you do kinda look like him...” she tried to be serious, but the constant giggles were causing her to fail miserably.

“I do not.” Michael growled in protest.

“Sure you do.” Liz teased, “You have the same...regal... nose.”


Michael glared over at her, “Great. While I’m gone, my girlfriend fantasizes about a guy who played an FBI alien hunter...You have a very sick sense of irony Liz.”

Michael may have been trying to play the wounded soldier, but Liz knew better if only by his still hard erection, giving him away. She crawled over his body, straddling him. Making sure her heat brushed against his, hearing his breath catch in his throat.

“Aw. You aren’t really angry are you Michael? I mean... you were prepared to let me go all the way in my sleep...”

“I...I was not.” Michael argued as she attached her mouth to his neck nibbling harshly at the flesh. He clenched his fists in an effort not to touch her, still mildly annoyed, not that she’d managed to get the better of him, but that he’d been so consumed by his desire for her, he’d let her. “I would’ve woken you up...but..th-then you had to go and say t-that h-hack’s name.”

Liz pulled back still grinning wickedly at him and pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her only in the skimpy pair of underwear that had taunted Michael earlier. She watched with amusement as Michael turned his head away from the temptation of her chest in an effort to punish her for her earlier joke.

“You’re telling me you’re really going to deny yourself another day of this...” Liz asked him caressing her breast with one hand and his erection with the other, “...because you got played by your girlfriend?”

Michael took a shaky breath at the feel of her hand on his sensitive skin, but held his ground, “Gotta hold a principle sometime.” he said weakly.

Liz abruptly took her hand away from him and shrugged her shoulders removing herself from his lap. She hooked her fingers on the sides of her panties and drug them down her legs, kicking them aside.

“I guess I’ll just have to go finish this myself in the bedroom.” she sighed and turned away from him, “Enjoy your principle, Michael.”

Liz didn’t get more than two steps before she felt Michael’s hand reach out and grip her wrist tugging her swiftly back onto the couch, shrieking slightly. She often took for granted how quickly Michael could move and found herself pinned beneath his body, staring up to blazing amber, his muscles hardened under his restraint.

“I hate that you know how good you are at that?” he told her in a low voice, dropping a kiss on her neck then letting his mouth hover above his pulse point.

“Good at what?” Liz whispered, genuinely curious and utterly weakened by his dangerous tone.

“Reading me.” Michael answered, taking the fingers Liz had been using on herself in his mouth and moaning at the taste he’d been craving for days..

Liz smiled weakly up at him, “Its best to know what skills one has in their arsenal.” she said threading her fingers through his long hair, “Learned that from sleeping with a former Antarian general.”

Michael couldn’t help but grin down at her, “But the ability to bullshit just came naturally, huh?”

“Why, I have no idea what you mean.” Liz feigned innocence.

“I mean...” Michael elaborated, shifting his hips to brush his hard length up against her wetness in a slow teasing rhythm, “You have gone without just as long as I have.” He dipped his head down to her breast teasing a nipple with his tongue in slow circles, “You had no intention of doing this by yourself, Liz. How far would you have really gotten to the bedroom?”

“A-About a h-half step.” she answered him honestly, her breathing coming in ragged breaths, his simple movements and dangerous voice already bringing her to the edge, “I missed you.”

“Next time you’re coming with me.” Michael chuckled, brushing his lips against hers, darting his tongue out to play with hers. “I missed you too.”

Without preamble or another word between them, Michael stopped teasing Liz and slid into her body, letting out a strangle puff of air at the feeling of her surrounding him. He watched her eyes widen and then hood as he filled her body and groaned as she arched her hips sending him deeper still.

Michael didn’t pause, pulling back immediately to thrust into her body once more, the feeling to great to ignore. Liz raised her head to meet his lips, trapping her gasps and his moans in their mouths. They’d done their playful teasing, prolonging this moment and now they couldn’t remember why.

Keep it simple. Isn’t that what he’d told her the night they’d admitted their feelings? Simple was there in that moment, their bodies joined in tandem with their pounding hearts. Games were fun, even amusing, but only as long as it doesn’t keep them from moments like these. When they realized they had taken the mere presence of the other person for granted, until they were taken away temporarily.

“All I could... think ... about.... was getting back to.... you.” Michael breathed against Liz’s neck, his thrusts increasing with every word.

Sure he’d told her he’d missed her but that didn’t seem like enough. He knew how glib he could be and he wanted her to be sure that he truly had missed her. Not just her body or the things she did to him, but her. The way just being around her made him stronger and made him see the world in a different light. Hers.

Words caught in Liz’s throat at Michael’s declaration. She knew he loved her and missed her while he’d been away, but to know she was the reason for his happiness made her heart soar and sent her spiraling into pleasure. All she could do was let out strangled cries, her tears too consumptive to allow her anything other utterances.

She wanted to tell him that despite the heat New Orleans gave off, she’d been so cold without him in their bed. A chill wind seemed to sweep through the city at the knowledge that two of her children were apart. Liz never needed Michael, but she’d never felt a want so great as when he’d left her to go to Memphis. It was only a few days, but they’d felt like those five years apart.

Michael watched all of Liz’s feelings play out on her face and the tears steak down her cheek. The tears sent him into his own release, knowing they weren’t caused by any pain he might be causing her with his ardent thrusts. No, she was so happy, she couldn’t hold them in and he was the one who brought her that happiness.

His release had been explosive and almost overwhelming, all he could manage through his own raspy cries was Liz’s name, something that had come to mean so many things to him. He sagged his weight on top of her knowing she could take it, and they way she clung to him, wanted it. She’d missed the power she felt beneath his muscles, the tremors his body always took on with his release and the complete vulnerability he exhibited in not holding back in those moments. No one, but Liz, ever got this Michael and no one ever would.

“I don’t want to move.” Michael breathed anchoring his weight on his elbows, dropping light caressing kisses on Liz’s wet cheeks, he still feel her pulsing around him and he felt he might fall apart in her arms if her removed himself.

Liz smiled up at him and with what strength remained in her leg squeezed his hips, keeping him inside her, “Like I’d let you go.” When Michael chuckled, she brushed an errant curl off his face, “You told Sweet we’d be late tomorrow, right?”

“We’re always late.” Michael smirked down at her.

~*~

Thanksgiving, Colorado.

Lexi sat in her booster chair, making mountains with her mashed potatoes and getting an elbow from her dad, “Lexi you’re supposed to eat the potatoes, not play god.”

Lexi rolled her eyes at her father, “They lumpy, Daddy. Make good mountains.”

Kyle stifled his snicker at his daughter’s observation. Motherhood had changed Isabel quite a bit, however her ability to cook had not been affected and her larger meals were usually followed with a large bottle of antacid.

Kyle had managed to convince Isabel that he should cook the turkey, claiming it a male duty to char the meat without literally putting a “char” on the meat. In reality he reasoned that if a bird gave up its life to sit on his table, it should at least be cooked properly. The veggies and other side dishes would be sacrificed in Isabel’s hands.

“You okay?” Isabel asked Max, forcing down another bite of her own green bean surprise. He’d been pushing around his food since they’d sat down and seemed preoccupied.

The truth was his preoccupation had begun long before that Thanksgiving. It had begun on Isabel’s birthday and those paintings Liz had sent. That little hint of a clue as too her whereabouts had sent Max back into his fury to find her. He’d spent the last weeks searching the internet and calling around various places in New Orleans trying to catch, at the very least, Liz’s scent, if she’d moved on, but had been coming up, mostly, with dead ends.

He’d been noticeably distant from the James clan, once he’d found out that they’d been in contact with Liz since she left and had refused to tell him where she was. He begged Isabel to just let him talk to her next time she called or at least give the number she was at, but Isabel held fast in her promise to Liz, frustrating Max all the more. He knew he was close he could feel it by the way Kyle and Isabel would tense up and exchange glances at the mention of Liz.

He tried various aliases he thought Liz might use, but no one had heard of an Elizabeth Alexander, Gomez, or Atherton and she certainly wasn’t using her married name. So he started looking for the artist who’d painted the pictures. Whomever they were had at least spent a little time with his wife while the portrait of Alexis was being worked on. Maybe they could tell him the name she was using or just how she was. He was living on crumbs of information, and even smaller pieces of hope.

He’d done an internet search of the various galleries in New Orleans and none of them with the letters “MJ”. He knew it’d be too easy to simply hope that the mysterious artist would actually own their own gallery and when he pressed Isabel or Kyle for the artists identity or even their gender they clammed up.

Thanksgiving morning he’d been running a random search of galleries again when her came across one called Reflections. It had only recently put up a website, so Max had missed it on his initial sweep. The painting it used as a background looked familiar, much like the piece Liz had sent. His eyes scanned down to the owner’s name and the black and white photo of the mid to late forties woman. Miriam Johnston. MJ.

Max wasn’t sure if he should breathe a sigh of relief that MJ was a middle-aged woman and not some young handsome man, or cheer that he’d actually, possibly found someone who might be able to help him find his wife. He quickly wrote down the galleries number and grabbed the phone dialing the numbers as quickly as possible.

“Hello. You’ve reached Reflections, we’re all enjoying Thanksgiving with our families but we’ll be in bright and early tomorrow morning to open your eyes and take your money. Have a wonderful day.”

Max slammed the phone down. He’d forgotten it was a holiday. He clenched his fists in frustration and ran a hand through his messy hair. Taking a deep breath he willed himself to remain calm. It was only one day. He could call this, Miriam Johnston, the next day. See what, if any information she could give him about Liz. How long she’d been in New Orleans, if she was alone, when she’d left, or if she’d said where she was headed next. Tomorrow. It was too long.

“Max!” Isabel nearly yelled, startling her brother from his self induced trance. “Where are you?” she asked him with concern.

Max looked over at his sister and then to Kyle. Lexi, who was fully aware of the tension in the room, but too young to understand it, used the adults distraction to pile more lumpy potatoes onto her plate, deciding her mountain was lonely and thus needed a range.

Max sighed heavily letting his fork drop on the plate, “I’m sure as hell not doing any good here.” he muttered and pushed away from the table, standing.

Isabel, looked to Kyle not needing to ask him to stay and keep and eye on their daughter while she tried to figure out what was wrong with Max. Rising from the table she followed him into the entryway and found him putting on his parka.

“Where are you going? Mom and Dad haven’t called yet and they’ll want to talk to you.” Isabel nearly scolded.

“I can’t stay here, Isabel.” Max said coldly. “I’ve been sitting on my ass this whole time, looking for Liz, when I should be out there searching. I got a lead this morning. The artist. I’m going to New Orleans.”

Isabel put a hand to her mouth, “You found Mi...”

“Miriam Johnston?” Max interrupted and edge in his voice, “Yeah. I found her. She owns a gallery in New Orleans. I know its her because the painting she uses on her website looks like the one you got from Liz. Maybe I can find Liz’s trail through her...”

“Look Max, I know it’s the holidays and the divorce is really hard on you, but right now you need to be with your family. Me, Kyle, Lexi...”

“Liz is my family too Isabel.” Max argued, “And as far as I can tell no one in my family wants to help me get her back. So you’ll excuse me if I’m not feeling in the holiday spirit!”

Isabel jumped at his sharp tone and Max softened a bit at the hurt in his sisters eyes, “Isabel, if you haven’t noticed, our family has dwindled over the past few years. First it was Jesse, then Maria... I know losing Michael killed you most of all...and now Liz... I’m just trying to salvage what’s left.”

“So you’re leaving? Then it’ll just be the three of us. Lexi is already out one uncle and her aunt. Please Max, just stay here. Who’s gonna play Santa this year, you Kyle’s too short for the costume...”

Max smiled at his sister, “If all goes well I’ll be back here by Christmas, Is. And I’ll have Mrs. Claus with me.”

Max kissed his sister on the cheek and headed for the door. Isabel reached out grabbing her brother’s arm, “Max even if you do find Liz, and you come barging in on any kind of life she’s made, you’ll only make things worse. Think about it. You do this and all you’ll come home with, is a broken heart.”

“Already got that, Isabel. It can’t get more broken than it is now.” Max shrugged and felt Isabel release his arm.

“Yes it can, little brother.” she whispered as she watched him disappear into his car.

Isabel watched his tail lights disappear from view and felt Kyle’s arms wrap around her from behind, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder, “I take it we need to call Michael and Liz.”

Isabel nodded, “If Max, finds them... I at least want someone to have a warning.”

~*~

One Week Later

Max drove down the interstate feeling all the miles he’d already driven. He’d only been on the road for two days, but when you’re alone with your thoughts for long periods of time it tends to where on you. Max was no exception. He’d need the extra time to take a leave from his job and make that phone call to Miriam Johnston, who’d proven to be of no help at all. She’d said that she’d wished she could help him, but she hadn’t done a portrait in years and that she hadn’t met anyone named Elizabeth, that she could remember.


Max had been undeterred. He was going to there anyways. He figured he could show Miriam Liz pictures maybe jog her memory. Maybe Liz had merely contacted the artist through Miriam’s gallery and the woman had forgotten. He heard recognition in the woman’s voice. Or at least that’s what he’d told himself.

When Max had first taken off on his quest to find Liz, first stop New Orleans, he was excited at the possibilities that awaited him. Just getting out of Denver was exciting in itself. He put Isabel’s final words to him in the back of his mind, but they kept creeping forward and the more the miles stretched the louder her voice got. The radio couldn’t drown it out and the silence made it deafening. It was the sound of reason and he didn’t like that it made sense.

He told himself he wouldn’t let anything stop him from finding Liz. If Isabel wasn’t willing to help than she’d just have to live with his actions. But now her words were haunting him.

Max even if you do find Liz, and you come barging in on any kind of life she’s made, you’ll only make things worse. Think about it....”

“Any kind of life, she’s made?” he wondered aloud, “What could that mean?”

Max’s eyes widened at a possibility he’d never thought of. Liz moving on. Was that why Isabel had been so reluctant to tell him anything about Liz. Had Liz found someone else?

“No.” he argued, “There hasn’t been enough time.” he reasoned.

But hadn’t there been? Liz had been gone for a year and half. He’d fallen for her in one glance back in the third grade. That took what, maybe half a second? Isabel had said that Liz was moving from place to place. She wouldn’t have had any time to form any real bonds, or ties to anyone, let alone romantic ones with another man. Could she?

“You do this and all you’ll come home with, is a broken heart.”

Who was he kidding? This was Liz he was talking about. Everyone who’d ever met her, touched her, couldn’t help but fall in love with her. How could they not? He smile, her laugh, her compassion. Was Isabel really trying to tell him that Liz was with someone else? Maybe the artist?

Max found himself breathing hard, his heart threatening to burst at the very possibility. He pulled over and tried to regain his composure.

“The divorce.” he breathed, “Why else would she wait a whole year to ask for a divorce.”

He hadn’t heard word one from her until those papers had arrived. Initially Max had figured that Liz was taking her time, trying to decide if she wanted a life without him in it. He never stopped to ponder that she’d found someone to build a new life with. That she wanted to cut him out because he stood in the way of whatever and whomever she wanted to be with.


...you’ll only make things worse...

God, if he did find Liz and she had moved on, she’d hate him for disrupting her new life. She wouldn’t even give him a chance to try and work things out. Maybe Isabel was right. His heart was already breaking even more at the theory that Liz could be in the arms of another man. If he saw it with his own eyes... he was sure it would kill him.

Max knew he needed to see Liz. Had to, if there was any hope of mending their broken relationship, but now he knew he needed to be prepared for what could be waiting for him when he saw her. And since Isabel and Kyle were guarding Liz’s new life, he had to go to someone who would be honest with him. Who loved Liz as much as he did, but wouldn’t hold back, no matter what the price to his heart.

Gaining his breath back Max started up the car and turned in th opposite direction he’d been heading. Trading the bayou, for a place much more familiar.

~*~

Early December: Roswell New Mexico

Max shifted his feet nervously at the front door of the Parkers apartment. He’d timed his arrival for Sunday night, knowing they always closed early that day. Even six and a half years away couldn’t change that routine.

Summing up what courage remained inside him, Max knocked on the door, bracing himself for whatever Jeff and Nancy had to say to him. He knew that he was not on their list of favorite people. He’d taken their only child away for a life on the run and even though he’d saved her life all those years ago, its difficult for a parent to lose their child and still know she’s alive out there and you can’t see her. But they would be honest with him, and Max was counting on that honesty to lead him to Liz and whatever new life she’d built for herself.

Max was a bit relieved when he saw Nancy’s kind face opening the door, watching her eyes widen in shock at the sight of her son-in-law on her front door. Her hand flew to her mouth, her breath taken away and Max smiled weakly.

“Hi...Nancy...um..” Max started, but was so busy trying to find the right words he missed Nancy’s hand flying from her mouth to slap him harshly across the cheek.

Max’s eyes widened in shock and he brought his hand up to his reddening cheek, trying to rub out the sting.

“Nanc...who as the doo... Oh.” Jeff said as he came into view. He’d heard his wife gasp and some muttered words. When he saw who was behind the door, the reason for his normally pacifist wife’s sudden bout with violence. “What the hell do you want Max?” he growled.

“Answers.” Max said, quietly, but firmly holding his ground.

“Now why in the hell would we go and do a thing like that Max?” Jeff asked harshly, “You took our daughter away to live a life in danger. You dragged her all over the country and didn’t let us see her once. You didn’t keep your promise of letting her live her dreams...”

“I didn’t force Liz to do anything, Jeff.” Max argued. “I didn’t force her to come with me. I didn’t force her to marry me...”

“And you didn’t force her to leave you either.” Nancy finally said, recovering from her initial shock.

Max nodded reluctantly, “Isabel and Kyle won’t tell me where she is or how she’s doing. I want to fix things between us...” Max looked around the street, “Please, can I at least come in. I don’t want a lot if people knowing I’m in town. I’m taking a huge risk coming back here. I didn’t know where else to go. Please.”

Jeff and Nancy shared a glance and nodded, stepping aside for Max to come inside. If voices were to be raised, there was no reason for all of Roswell to hear it. Max was at least right about that.

“Like I said,” Max continued once inside, “I just want to fix things with Liz. I know I haven’t kept a lot of my promises to her and I want to rectify that, but I can’t if she won’t give me a chance.”

“She gave you plenty of chances Max.” Nancy argued, “You ignored her every time.”

“I know. I do realize that now, but I want to try again... get it right.” Max reasoned.

“By doing what? Having a baby?” Jeff asked incredulously, “Liz’s dreams are larger than just that, Max. If you truly knew her like you say you do, you’d know that much.”

Max nodded, “I was wrong to think that a baby would make things right between us, and I’m prepared to do whatever it take to make her happy. I just need to know where she is so I can tell her. At least try...”

“Max,” Nancy said in a more soothing voice, hearing his desperation, “There is nothing left to save, please trust us on this.”

Max’s shoulders sunk and he moved from the entryway into the living room. Nancy looked nervously to her husband, knowing what Max was about to stumble on. Jeff grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

Max’s frustration was visible, in his stance and the tiredness in his eyes. It was one thing to hear, albeit cryptically, from your sister that you should give up on the love of your life, but it was another to hear it from her parents. He ran a hand over his face, taxing his mind for anything that might get the Parkers to tell him where Liz was, if she was happy, or at the very least prepare him for what he might be waiting when he did find her. And then he did.

Max took his hands away from his face, opening his eyes, and was met with Liz’s. Or at least a reasonable facsimile. Hanging above the Parker’s mantle was a painting of Liz. She was standing in front of what appeared to be a college board dressed in denim shorts and a tank top, but her reflection had her in hospital scrubs. She was still so beautiful and the painting looked as though it were alive.

Jeff and Nancy stood back letting Max take in the painting watching him slowly walk toward it, as though the Liz on the canvas might step out to embrace him. Max’s eyes settled on the corner where the artists signature was held in small red letters. M.J.

Whomever painted this had spent a fair amount of time with Liz. Enough so that they knew what dreams she still held. It was possible that this, Miriam Johnston, could have had a kind ear to listen to Liz’s troubles as she painted her, but Max suspected not. No, whomever painted this knew Liz intimately. Enough to catch the longing in her eyes and the slight smile that came from even just dreaming about the things she could accomplish. This person knew her heart, almost better than he did.

Max’s gaze fell to the small gold plaque embedded in the wood frame housing the painting, Little Miss Scientist by Michael Joyce.

“Michael Joyce?” Max whispered in confusion.

He’d been certain that M.J. had been Miriam Johnston not this Michael Joyce. And why did everything about this feel so familiar? Even the title of the painting had struck a familiar chord. But why?

Max turned around and looked back at Jeff and Nancy, scratching his head, a nervous smile came over his face, “I...uh... don’t know who this artist is... but I remember where she got that nickname...After I healed Liz that day...she wouldn’t stop investigating for us and God, she annoyed the hell out of Isabel and Michael...” Max’s eyes widened in realization... “Michael... Uh... used ...to call her... Little Miss...Oh God...”

“Max...” Nancy said softly, seeing that he was putting the pieces together. Jeff whispered something to her and she ran into the kitchen picking up the phone, dialing hastily.

Max swiftly turned back to the painting his mind running wild. Michael Joyce. M.J. An artist... in New Orleans...Little Miss Scientist... the portrait of Lexi...Isabel’s emotions over the paintings she’d received on her birthday...yet another reason Isabel would keep Liz’s location from him. She wasn’t just hiding Liz , but Michael as well.

Max’s eye caught something else on the mantle that had escaped his notice upon his initial draw to the painting of his wife. In a small silver frame was a black and white photo of Liz standing next to Michael, in front of the bar from Isabel’s New Orleans painting, both of them smiling... at each other.

“Liz found Michael.” was all he could whisper.

But why hadn’t Michael called him to let him know where Liz was. He knew how much she meant to him. Michael hadn’t given his reason for leaving, never called nor wrote, but Max always believed he’d have his back when the chips were down. Now it appeared he didn’t, because there was Liz, in the painting, done by Michael’s hand, and in the photo, smiling at her.

Max couldn’t, wouldn’t let the next notion of anything other than a friendship enter his mind. He felt his knees would buckle if it held any sort of truth. Michael and Liz didn’t make any sense together. They were complete opposites. They hated each other. But how could ignore the intimacy of the painting or the genuine smile on Michael’s face on the photo.

“She’s in New Orleans with Michael...” Max breathed.

“Has been since the end of July.” Jeff provided placing a firm hand on Max’s shoulder, seeing the young man’s unsteady stance.

“But why Michael? I mean....” Max faltered.

“She wasn’t looking for him, Max.” Jeff explained, “ She just stumbled on him... He’s good for her...to her... He’s helping her realize the dreams you forgot she had.”

“I don’t understand...” Max rasped, his tears welling up in his eyes.

“The money he’s making from his paintings... He’s helping me put her through college.” Jeff told him.

Max’s anger began to surface, “Since when did Michael Guerin ever give a damn about Liz? Or even bother to care about what her dreams were? Michael only ever cared about himself... its why he left. Maria was gone so he...”

Nancy came in the living room sensing Max’s burgeoning rage and handed him the phone. Max gave her a bewildered look and accepted it bringing it to his ear, “Who is this?”

“Isabel.” His sister answered, “Jesus Max, why would you go to Roswell?”

“Fuck you, Isabel. You know why I came here! You knew where and who Liz has been with the last few months and never told me!” he bellowed, causing Nancy and Jeff to stand back nervously.

“Yeah I did and I wouldn’t take it back. Michael didn’t want to see you either Max. I respected that! You aren’t my only brother!” Isabel countered.

“Yeah well I’m about to pay a visit to our brother and there’s nothing you can say to stop me!” Max yelled.

“Don’t you think I wanted to tell you that Liz had found Michael. I was so damn happy when he called after she got there... And I wanted to tell you... but they needed time...Please don’t do this! What I told you at Thanksgiving is still true. You go barging in on Liz’s life now and she’ll only hate you for it and so will Michael! Then you’ll lose them both!”

Max growled in frustration, “Look I get it! Michael was trying to be a good friend to Liz, but letting her just keep running away isn’t going to solve anything. He should know that better than anyone!” He paced the floor, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Isabel... How could you not tell me Liz was with Michael?”

There was a pause on the other end and all he could hear was Isabel’s temper labored breathing. “You really don’t get it do you Max? I love you little brother, but there’s a fucking neon sign flashing in front of your eyes and you refuse to see it!”

“Then enlighten me, Isabel!” Max countered, “For once since Liz has left... Enlighten me!”

Isabel sighed heavily, “Max all the pieces are before you. Put them together. The paintings? The secrecy? The divorce papers? You really think Michael is just hiding her because they’re friends?”

“Why else would Liz be with him?” Max asked, a sinking feeling centering in his stomach.

“That’s it Max. Liz isn’t just with Michael. She’s with him.”

Max felt his heart drop to the floor and his knees buckled as he slumped onto the Parkers couch. He looked up at the painting, the photo, the worried looks on the Parker’s faces and the words Jeff had said about Michael. How he was “helping Liz realize her dreams”.

“No...” Max shook his head, “You’re wrong Isabel. Michael wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Michael isn’t the same man he was five years ago Max. None of us are. Didn’t you notice how close he and Liz were before he left? And even after... since when did Liz listen to Metallica? Or watch hockey? Or even attempt yo read anything by James Joyce?”

“You’re saying they were...all that time...?”

“No.” Isabel said quickly, “Nothing happened then, but now... they found each other, Max. Michael isn’t doing anything to you. He loves Liz, really loves her. And she...”

“Don’t say it.” Max gritted his teeth, “Don’t you dare say it, Isabel.”

“You can’t bury what you don’t want to hear, Max.” Isabel insisted. He needed to hear it, “Liz loves Michael, Max. They are happy. And I’m sorry it hurts you so much, but she’s happy without you.”

There was another long pause on the phone and Isabel knew Max’s mind was trying to catch up, digest what she’d told him. Michael and Liz in love. Not five words he would have ever strung together in his life. It was too odd. Too irrational. To painful.

It was one thing if Liz had fallen for a complete stranger. A human. Someone normal. But Michael? His own brother? What if it was another lie?

“I need to see it for myself. Now.” he finally told Isabel, “You can warn them if you want, but I’m going.”

“Max...” Isabel pleaded, “Please, not like this. I mean it. You will lose both of them forever if you try to bully your way in.”

Max laughed nervously, so many emotions running through him, he wasn’t sure which one to nail down, “And what do you suggest I do, Isabel? Since all of a sudden you are an expert on Michael and Liz.”

“If you can’t let Liz go, now. Then wait to see her...them. Kyle, Lexi and I are going to New Orleans for Christmas to see them. Come with us. Not that I think it’ll do any good, but at least then you three can talk about this. Calmly. Once you’ve had time to let it soak in.”

Max hated to admit it, but once again Isabel was right. They were all adults. And while his heart and mind were reeling with the new information and every instinct in his body told him to run to New Orleans and not care about the consequences, if there was even the remotest hope of winning Liz back, he’d have to show her that he’d changed as well.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.” he sighed, “I don’t know what good it will do. I mean... Michael?

Isabel let out a deep breath, “I’m not saying you have to understand why Max, just that he makes her happy. And that its time for you to let go.”

“Hell hasn’t frozen over yet, Is.”Max replied dryly.

~*~

Later That Night...New Orleans

Michael came upstairs after closing the bar with Sweet and Miriam, hoping to find Liz either asleep, she’d been studying so hard with her finals only a week away. But instead found her sitting in the dining room, with her head in her hands and the phone resting on the table.

He could see her whole body was tense and felt it when he placed his hands on her shoulders. He bent down placing a kiss on the back of her neck, “What’s wrong?”

Liz looked up at Michael with worry in her eyes, and a pale to her normally tan skin “We’re going to have to set one more plate for Christmas dinner.”

Michael own shoulders sunk, but it had hardly been unexpected, “Max.” he said, seeing Liz nod.

Ever since Isabel had called them the day after Thanksgiving, warning them about Max possibly showing up in their neck of the woods, they’d been bracing themselves for his arrival. Even more so when Miriam got Max’s phone call a few days later looking for a woman named, “Elizabeth”.

Neither Michael or Liz had asked Miriam to lie, and technically she didn’t. She didn’t know a woman that went by any of the names Max had spouted off. Nor had she been the one to paint that portrait of Lexi. If Max had asked her about the artists she showcased, he might have found out about Michael, but then again, Max really wasn’t looking for Michael.

But now, it seemed, seeing Max again was inevitable. Michael and Liz had enjoyed their time without having to worry about him, but they knew well enough that it was a bubble that would burst soon. The honeymoon was over.

“Are we ready for this?” Liz asked Michael as he knelt beside her.

“We kinda have to be, don’t we?” Michael replied, “We knew we’d have to face him sooner or later. It’ll be tense, but I’m not worried. You can do that enough for the both of us.”

“I know, but Isabel said...”

“That Max is angry? Pissed off? Hurt? In denial? Wants to see it with his own eyes?” Michael provided.

“All of the above. Michael, he went to Roswell. To see my parents.” Liz said a hint of anger in her voice.

“Can’t imagine your dad was too happy to see him.” Michael mused, trying to get Liz to smile, but it wasn’t working. “Look I’m not half as grouchy as I used to be. Sex on a regular basis tends to tame the wild beast.”

“Hardly.” Liz joked rolling her eyes, but a meaningful glare from Michael, kept her from teasing any further and she waved her hand for him to continue.

“All I’m saying is I’m not going to get into a pissing match with Max, over you. You love me, right?”

Liz’s eye widened, “You know I do.”

Michael shrugged his shoulders, “Then I’m not worried us. Nothing Max says or does is going to change that. It’d be nice if he’d sign those divorce papers, but like you said, we don’t need a piece of paper to tell us who are family is.” Michael accepted a kiss on the forehead from Liz before continuing. “Truth is I’m more worried about what coming here is going to do to him. I mean you’ve moved on. You’re happy. And at the very least sexually satisfied.”

“Michael...” Liz warned, but couldn’t hide her smile.

“This is gonna break him Liz, and we have to be able to live with that. Can you?” He asked her seriously.

“I don’t want to break him, Michael, but I spent too much time being broken myself, to ever go back.” Liz said with sorrow in her voice. She really didn’t want to hurt Max. He was her first love. Her husband, the man she’d given up so many things for to be with.

“Sometimes you have to hit bottom before you can climb back up, Liz. Max has to find that out for himself.” Michael explained.

Liz nodded, “I know but do we have to be his tour guides.”

Michael chuckled, “Who better? We both know a little bit about hitting bottom.”

“Yeah, but we had each other. I’m the reason he’s going to fall, Michael.”Liz said softly.

“No you aren’t Liz.” Michael argued, “We all are our own worst enemy. I think I’ve proven that a few thousand times. Max not letting you go is what’s sending him down. And until he does that he’ll never start moving on. You have to stop letting yourself be the center of Max’s world, or he’ll never stop seeing you as just that.”

Liz brushed her lips over Michael in a kiss of gratitude and smiled, “You’re right.”

“About what? I was kinda in a Kyle-like Zen mode. Kinda creepy really.” Michael joked.

“About regular sex making you less grouchy.” Liz laughed. “There was a time when the prospect of Max coming around made you quite a bear.”

“Still does.” Michael told her honestly and stood up, pulling her out of the chair, and pulling her towards their bedroom with a smirk, “But then again, the beast hasn’t been tamed since this morning, so...”

Liz batted her eyes, “And me without my whip, what will we do?”

“Improvise.” Michael said waggling his eyebrows.

~*~

TBC...

[Guest]

December 23, New Orleans

Michael watched Liz from his place behind the bar as he fill little cups full of fruit punch and cider. It was Christmastime at Ulysses which meant Sweet dressing up as the jolly old fat man and the kids from various shelters around town were treated to juice cookies and a toy generously donated by the bar’s owner. The mothers of the children were treated to an hour’s peace, some cider and the knowledge that someone cared that they had a merry Christmas. Hopefully the start of new better life for them and their children.

So while Sweet listened to the various wishes of each little child that sat on his lap, Liz played Santa’s helper, complete with a little red dress, trimmed with white faux fur on the hem, collar and sleeves and of course the requisite little red hat.

Miriam nudged Michael as he overfilled another cup, making a mess, his attention firmly focused on the little elf placing a screaming toddler on Sweet’s lap, helping him to calm her down. Michael grunted grabbing a towel and cleaning up the mess.

“I know what’s gotten into you, Sug.” Miriam teased him, “Bet you’d like to spend some time with Santa’s helper up there on your lap.” Michael smirked, but didn’t deny her assessment, “But what I can’t figure out is, what’s with Liz?”

Michael took another look at his girlfriend. Yes, there as a genuine smile on her face for each child who tugged on her skirt in anticipation, but she was worrying her bottom lip an awful lot and her brow furrowed from time to time. It was no mystery to Michael. She’d been buzzing around the apartment for the past week cleaning and re-cleaning, fluffing pillows, stocking the fridge, organizing their cd collection... and then re-doing it all the next day.

“She nervous about everyone coming for Christmas. She wants it to be as perfect as possible.” He told Miriam, “I think all that time spent with my sister during the holidays might have made her a member of Isabel’s Christmas Reich.”

Mir nodded, “But for who’s benefit? Max’s?”

Michael shook his head, “No. Actually its more for Lexi. She knows things are going to be tense with Max tagging along. So she’s trying to make sure that Lexi doesn’t pick up on that and has a good Christmas, despite the tension us adults will be under.”

“She does know that kids pick up on everything right?” Miriam chuckled, “I mean you ask any one of these little sprites runnin’ around the bar.... well... they just know.”

Michael nodded, “Liz knows that, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. Its in her nature to make sure everyone is happy. But she tends to forget about herself.”

“What time do they get here?” Mir asked, detecting the sadness in Michael voice at Liz’s perpetual personality flaw. Something that had hurt her so much over time, sacrificing too much of herself.


Michael looked up at the clock, “Bout a half hour, maybe less, depends on traffic. They’re taking a cab in. I offered to pick them up but when Liz told Is about this little party we have every year... Well after Liz got my sister to stop crying, she insisted that they not interrupt it and now they’re taking a cab.”

“You nervous?” Mir asked.

“Let see. Meeting my niece for the first time and seeing my sister and best friend, not to mention my brother, who, by the way, is still married to my girlfriend... after five years....” he held up a slightly shaking hand and gave Miriam a crooked smile, “I’m a rock.”

Miriam patted her son’s shoulder and they watched Liz come down from her post as one of the waitresses took over. She wrung her hands and bit her lip as she approached the bar. “Did you call the airport?” she asked Michael anxiously.

He nodded, “Yeah. They landed about twenty minutes ago. It’ll take some time to get their luggage and then get the cab, with the holiday rush.”

“Oh.” Liz said unsure of whether to feel more excited or nervous. She smiled graciously when Michael handed her a bottle of water, “I think I need something stronger.”

Michael arched an eyebrow at her, “You don’t drink, Liz.”

“Can’t think of a better time to start?” she joked, with a weary sigh. She did a quick scan of the bar and saw everything was in order, nothing to distract her. “I um... I think I’m gonna go up to the apartment and make sure there are enough towels in the bathroom... People always run out of towels... and...”

Michael exchanged a look with Miriam and she nodded her head with a chuckle. Michael tossed her the bar towel and hopped over the bar.

“...And soap...Oh... I hope we have enough soap...Its usually just the two of us... but with Kyle, Isabel and...” Liz rambled, and then abruptly stopped when Michael took her hand dragging her over to the supply closet. They stood in the doorway underneath the mistletoe and Michael leaned down, fusing his mouth over hers.

Liz didn’t protest, wrapping her arms around Michael’s neck to return the kiss. Only when they heard the giggling of a couple small children did they break apart. Michael growled comically at the kids and gave them a wink as they scampered off.

“That, was to calm you down.” he told Liz, seeing the natural effect his kisses had on his girlfriend, her eyes hooded slightly accompanied by the dizziness.

Liz smirked up at him, “Thanks, but I hope you don’t use that tactic on every hysterical woman you encounter.”

Michael shook his head, “Nope. Only seems to work on human chicks from Roswell.”

“Who said it worked?” Liz challenged him her eyes darting suggestively to the convenience the supply closet provided.

“You have always been exhausting.” Michael returned, shifting them inside the closet and shutting the door behind him so as not to give any of their guests a lesson in alien mating rituals.

Michael had barely gotten the door shut when her felt Liz spin him around swiftly and her lips were upon his. Wasting no time he lifted Liz off the ground pressing her against the door.

“Looks like I got the naughty elf.” Michael mused between hungry kisses, “Dragging the boss man in to the supply closet for a quickie.”

Liz giggled, her nerves of minutes earlier quickly fading with Michael’s attentions, “I always knew you had a thing for us elves. First it was Snowflake...”

“Correction, Cinnamon,” Michael interrupted, recalling the elven name she’d taken on in the year she’d been referring to her, “Santa had a thing for Snowflake. I, however, have a major jones for hyper brunettes in short skirts.”

Michael leaned in teasing the corners of Liz’s mouth with his tongue while his hand snuck its way underneath the skirt of her dress. He growled in frustration and pulled away from her mouth.

“You know, this whole underwear thing is really getting annoying.” he teased.

Liz grinned, “Well I know what I’m not getting for Christmas.”

“Nope.” Michael breathed wetting her lips with his tongue, “That would be encouraging you to wear them.”

“I figured... “Liz returned, panting as he continued his task, touching her over the bothersome silk, “With the young impressionables out there... “

“Damn kids. Always ruining my fun.” Michael grumbled comically, hissing as Liz reached between them to stroke him through his jeans, “Ah, I take it you’re calmer now?”

Liz nodded with a wicked grin, “Yeah, but its been replaced by...” she was interrupted by a gentle knocking on the closet door.

“Michael? Liz? Hon, you two decent?” they heard Miriam ask from the other side, her voice tingled with withheld snickering.

“Wasn’t planning on it, Mir.” Michael replied sardonically, as Liz dropped her forehead to his neck and her shoulders shook with her own laughter.

“Well, I hate to do this to ya, but your guests have arrived.” she said seriously.

Liz’s head shot off Michael’s neck and she looked into his eyes with a mild panic. Michael let out a nervous laugh, tipping his head back to look up at the ceiling before returning back to Miriam on the other side of the door.

“So what you’re telling me Mir, is that there is no way Liz and I can come out of this closet and not look completely guilty?”

They both heard the older woman chuckle, “That’s about the size of it, Sug.”

Michael tipped his head downward resting his forehead against Liz’s chest, “Thanks Mir.” He called out, “Just give us a sec.”

“Sure thing, Baby.” Mir replied and they heard her footsteps walk away.

“Take them a while, huh?” Liz teased, bringing Michael’s head up to meet hers.

“I’m sorry.” he chuckled setting down so they could repair any damage that they’d done in the heat of the moment.

Liz shook her head as she smoothed her dress and hair, “Don’t worry about it, Michael. You got me to calm down and I’m not ashamed of being with you.” she turned around for him, “Now, how do I look?”

Michael smiled. She could have been covered from head to toe in swamp sludge and she would have been beautiful to him with her easy declaration. But he gave her the obligatory once over, finding her even more lovely than when she’d drug them into the closet, her lips slightly swollen with his kisses and her cheeks taking on that distinctive flush that only came from being intimate with him.

“Beautiful.” he finally told her, then looked at down at himself, “Passable?”

Liz looked him over then giggled furiously as her eyes reached his slightly tented jeans, “Um, might want to tame the wild man there before hugging Isabel.”

Michael growled at her, “For the record this is the only time I’m cursing my makers for blessing me.” he stared down at his inconvenient arousal, “Down boy.”

When it became apparent the stubborn was a full body emotion for Michael, Liz shook her head, “Maybe I should just stay in front of you when we come out.”

Michael nodded, “Good idea...Just don’t bend over.” he teased.

They exchanged one last, attempted chaste kiss, and Liz turned around opening the door, making sure Michael, or least his lower region was shielded by her body. She unconsciously reached back for his hand, some of her nerves returning as she saw her family again for the first time in over a year.

Michael took one last look at the back of Liz’s head as they walked out of the closet, decidedly impish grins on both their faces, and looked upon faces he hadn’t seen in five years and an entirely new on only ever seen in photos. A silence hung in the air for a moment, as though no one knew what to do or say in the moment. They all briefly registered the background notice of the children laughing , Sweet “Ho-ho-ho-ing” and the New Orleans jazz take on O Holy Night serenading them on the jukebox.

Michael looked up at Kyle and Isabel who held giant smiles on their faces, Isabel’s more innocent than that of her husband’s, but Michael had learned a long time ago that Kyle couldn’t physically not smirk, his brain was stuck in perpetual pervert. One of the many reason they got along.

His eyes briefly passed over Max, not surprised to see red in his brother’s cheeks, he knew from barely restrained rage at seeing his own brother coming out of a closet with his wife. But the fidgeting little sprite clasping Kyle’s hand was what held his attention. There she was in the flesh. His niece. The newest and, decidedly most adorable, member of the family, Lexi, not understanding why no one was moving, or hugging, or even speaking.

Michael watched her survey each adults face and shrug her shoulders, her excitement over seeing her auntie and meeting her uncle too strong to be contained and she released herself from Kyle’s grip, running full speed at Liz.

Liz quickly forgot her promise to not bend over in front of Michael as she knelt down and scooped her niece up into her arms. The tears that had well in her eyes spilling down her cheeks as the little girl clung to her neck.

Kyle nudged his wife, who’d seemed immobilized for a moment and Isabel snapped out of her trance. There was Michael, after five years. He looked the same as he did...no, he looked happier than he did five years ago. And Liz... gone were the dark circles, hollow cheeks and nearly dead eyes. She was full of life and God, she was smiling and damn near glowing.

Isabel followed her daughter’s lead dropping her purse to the floor and walked swiftly into Michael’s arms, her tears soaking the fabric of his white shirt. “I missed you, Jerk.” she said with a weepy laugh.

Michael couldn’t speak he just nodded his head squeezing Isabel against him feeling his sister’s love radiate off her in waves. His eyes fell to Kyle who’d dropped the luggage and was embracing Liz, Lexi still wrapped tightly in her arms.

Isabel pulled back following Michael’s gaze to Liz and remembered where they’d just seen them emerge from, a giggle escaping her lips. She smacked his chest to get his attention, “I can’t leave you alone with any of Santa’s’s elves can I?”

Michael laughed, “Nope. I think it’s the tights.”

Isabel looked back at Liz again, furrowing her brow, “Liz isn’t wearing any tights.”

“Yeah. Not now.” Michael joked waggling his eyebrows.

Isabel rolled her eyes, “You are still a pig. You and Kyle won’t skip a beat.”

“Not Kyle I’m worried about.” Michael added, his eyes passing over to Max, who’d been content to stay back, unsure of his feelings or how to greet his wife and brother.

Isabel nodded kissing Michael’s cheek before turning to Liz and enveloping the tiny woman in a huge hug, nearly crushing poor Lexi in between them. Kyle backed away quickly and turned his attention to long lost alien friend, first shaking his hand before drawing Michael into a hug.

Kyle jumped back instantly, shaking his head at Michael and chuckling, “Gee Goliath, I mean I know I’m ten kinds of pretty, but...dude, I’m married.”

Michael rolled his eyes at Kyle, knowing the joke about his still dwindling arousal from he and Liz’s near closet copulation, would be coming and while throughly embarrassed, he reveled in Kyle’s ribbing having gone so many years without it.

“So is Liz.” Michael and Kyle heard Max mumble, after having made his way towards the reunion.

Michael bit back any comment he might have in return when his eyes fell to the smiling angel in Liz’s arms. For her sake, and for his own, he had to be the grown up about this. Be the bigger man and while not excusing Max’s behavior, he found himself understanding it. How hurt would he be if Liz walked away from him for Max?

From the moment they’d stepped into the bar, Max had been eagerly searching for Liz, disappointed when she was nowhere to be found. An older redhead approached them and he remembered her from the photo on the website. Miriam Johnston.

She greeted Kyle, Isabel and Lexi with hugs, all having heard so much about the other and brought together by Michael and Liz. She’d shaken Max’s hand, giving him a gracious smile, which he returned, but immediately began searching for his wife again. He looked up at what normally was the stage, finding a mini North Pole, complete with a laughing Santa, a nervous tyke on his knee. Max had to admit, Michael always made a pretty decent Santa.

“Michael and Liz are a bit...um...indisposed at the moment.” Miriam said, a blush appearing on her pale cheeks, “I’ll just, uh..let them know you’re here.”

Indisposed? Max had wondered. He looked back over at the Santa in the overstuffed armchair and upon closer inspection realized that this Santa was far darker than his brother. It then became all too clear when he watched Miriam walk quickly over to what had to be a closet of some kind and knock on the door gently. He couldn’t hear the voices, but it was clear that she was talking to someone in that closet an impish smile consuming her face. Indisposed. Just fucking great.

About a minute later the door opened and Max felt his breath catch, gazing upon his wife after a year and half apart. Jesus she was beautiful, and that smile... His heart sank as Michael followed closely behind her, their hands laced together in unity. The smile had been for Michael.

A rush of red flew to Max’s own cheeks when his saw the distinct blush on Liz’s, that came only when she’d been...aroused. It had been a long time since he’d seen it, but he never forgot what it looked like and it tore him apart that he couldn’t deny Michael had been the one to put that particular rouge there. There was very little doubt as to what his and the James arrival had interrupted.

Max was grateful for the break in pain when he saw Lexi rush towards Liz. God, she looked so right holding a child in her arms and he knew that it had to have been difficult for Liz to have been away from Lexi all that time...

“Maxwell....” he heard, Michael say a little loudly, suggesting it hadn’t been the first time he’d called his name. He looked to Michael, really seeing his brother for the first time, and saw his large hand extended in invitation for a handshake.

Max narrowed his eyes at Michael, part of him wanting to embrace his brother after so many years apart and the other part wanting to lay him out where he stood for taking away what Michael must have known meant so much to his brother. Liz. He was caught in indecision and anger and he remained frozen, staring at Michael.

Michael’s shoulders sagged a bit, knowing this moment would be awkward and seeing the pure venom Max was aiming in his direction. He knew Max would heap the blame on him for the loss of Liz and his subsequent relationship with her. It was a burden he found easy to bare, if not a little painful one. He took a small step forward keeping his hand out for Max to take and muttered low so only he and his brother could hear.

“Shake now. Deal with the rest later.” his eyes flicking over to Liz and Lexi.

Max flinched at Michael’s words, finding them holding a little too much truth, but his gaze had followed Michael’s to Liz nervously chewing her lip in worry looking over at them and Lexi, who studied the men with a smile absently twirling a lock of her aunt’s dark hair around her finger. He brought his hand out of his pocket and gripped Michael’s firmly, watching Liz let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

Kyle patted Max’s back, “No royal tantrums Maxieboy. ‘Tis the season for forgiveness.”

Max looked back at Kyle with a glare and Michael narrowed his eyes at his wisecracking friend, “I’m not asking for that either.”

Kyle’s eyes widened at the tension he’d unwittingly added too and his eyes fell to the doorway Michael and Liz had exited from, “It’s..uh...also the season for ...Mistletoe! Yeah mistletoe..Isabel my dear sweet wife...I see mistletoe...”

Before Isabel could object her husband grabbed her hand and dragged her under the mistletoe, worried that leaving Lexi with Liz, Max and Michael was tant amount to dropping her toddler in a minefield. But Liz gave her a weak smile and her resistence faded as Kyle kissed her fiercely.

Lexi rolled her eyes, “Dey always do dat.” she scrunched up her nose, “Gross.”

Max turned toward Liz and began lifting his arms to embrace her. Lexi, felt Liz grip her tighter, watching her aunt’s eyes look nervously over at her Uncle Grumpy’s. Lexi felt uneasiness coming off her aunt in waves at the prospect of Uncle Max hugging her. She vaguely remembered feeling that from Liz before she’d left. Thinking quickly she hugged Liz possessively with her little body.

“No Unca Max. Dis my Auntie. Mine. Mine. Mine.” she chanted smiling sweetly at her uncle.

Max was more than disappointed, not only at Lexi’s sudden possessiveness over her long lost aunt, but at the tentativeness he saw in Liz’s stance and eyes. Had things gone so wrong that she couldn’t even stand a hug from her husband? Or at the very least, her friend?

“Can we talk later?” Max asked Liz quietly, a pleading in his eyes, “Alone?”

Liz nodded without hesitation. She wasn’t scared of Max, only scared of giving him any kind of hope. Michael was right, she could see from the hope that danced in Max’s eyes, this, she and Michael, was going to break the man she used to believe so much in.

“Yeah...Later Max. Maybe in our apartment.” Liz answered her eyes dancing over to Michael’s.

Lexi watched her Uncle Max’s shoulders sag in defeat and tears well up in his eyes he blinked away hoping no one could see. This wasn’t the reaction Uncle Max had been hoping for with Auntie Liz. The obvious distance she was trying to put between them. The way she would look at Uncle Grumpy.

Lexi felt her aunt relax even more when Uncle Grumpy placed a hand on the small of her back. Lexi had only been a short time on this Earth, but she was already gaining a strange sense of people’s emotions, seeing the lights that surrounded them when they were happy, sad or angry.

Even with her young age, or perhaps because of it, things seemed very simple, very clear to her. She loved her Uncle Max, but something about him made Auntie Liz sad. Uncle Grumpy made her happy. Simple. So why was everyone still so tense? And why did they think they could hide it from her? Silly grown-ups.

Liz sensed a need to break the tension and she glanced up at Michael who’d been studying Lexi for a while and it occurred to her, “Hey...” she said shifting Lexi up a bit in her arms, “You and Uncle Grumpy here have never been properly introduced.”

Lexi giggled, “Yeah. And we never met before.”

Liz smiled and cleared her throat, “Alexis Michaela James, meet Uncle Michael...Uncle Grumpy.”

Lexi sat back in her aunt’s arms. She’d been dying for this moment since her mommy had told her they were going to New Orleans for Christmas. She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow at the large man, imitating her favorite photo of him, the one she kept on the cork board in her room. It was of Michael sitting on a couch arms folded and brow furrowed, but a slight smirk teased the corner of his mouth.

Michael was a little bewildered with his niece’s actions, but decided to play along, imitating her stance and doing his best not to laugh at her little face trying to hold a scowl. She turned to Liz and whispered in her ear, and she set her down a moment later. Lexi walked up to her uncle arms still folded and craned her neck up to see him, not at all intimidated by his towering form.

“You a giant, Grumpy.” she finally said.

Michael knelt down to Lexi’s level unfolding his arms, but keeping his scowl on for effect, “Better?” he asked.

Lexi nodded, unfolding her arms, reaching out to smooth out her uncle’s furrowed brow with her tiny hands and pushed up one corner of his mouth into a crooked smile, “Better.” she said standing back with satisfaction.

She stepped forward wrapping her arms around his neck, her little hands getting tangled in his long hair and the smooth baby skin of her cheek pressed against his freshly shaven one, “My Unca. Mine. Mine. Mine.” she whispered, softly, staking her claim.

If Lexi hadn’t completely owned his heart before, Michael was sure she’d stolen it in that moment. And were he not already on his knees he might have fallen to them at her unwavering trust and love for a man she only knew through photos and brief phone conversations. He brought his own arms around the little girl lifting her off of the ground so he could hold onto her. Initially he was afraid that, because she was so tiny, he might squeeze her too hard, but with the tight hold she had around his neck, he was more in danger of suffocating than she ever was.

Michael had held children before, he was no stranger to their near weightlessness in his strong arms, but for some reason holding this child, someone who shared a part of who he was, shook him. She smelled so clean and pure, like he was holding the personification of innocence in his arms. The way Lexi clung to him, was if she knew this was a feeling her uncle never got to experience.

Michael had never known this age or what it felt like as a child, to be safe. He didn’t have the baby shampoo and soft touches. He’d burst into the world as a six-year-old, naked and scared. And then he was shoved into a world of alcohol, smoke, and endless pain, both emotional and physical. It was as if Lexi knew her uncle needed her love, her innocence, just a little more than anyone else.

Tears touched Liz’s and Isabel’s eyes, who’d managed to get Kyle away from the dangerous mistletoe to watch the meeting of Lexi and her other uncle take place, and the seemingly instantaneous bond that formed between them. Isabel was already dreading the end of the trip when she’d have to tear Michael and Lexi apart.

Lexi pulled back from her uncle to look at his face and quickly wiped a tear from his cheek she sensed he wouldn’t want anyone to see. Her eyes fell to the stage and the mini wonderland that had been created there.

“How you get Santa to come here, Grumpy?” she asked him.

Michael smiled and turned them around to get a better look at Sweet posing for a picture with one of the children, “Well your dad told me how piss...” he heard both Isabel and Liz clear their throats, “Uh... peeved... you were when you found out we don’t get snow here so I called in a few favors and got the fat man to come here. You wanna go over there?”

Lexi nodded emphatically but then looked back at Isabel and Kyle for approval, “Yeah go on, munchkin.” Kyle waved at her.

Lexi smiled wide at Michael and patted his shoulder, “Come on, Grumpy. I got long list.”

~*~

Two hours later the kids and their mothers from the shelter left, and with the extra help clean-up was minimal. So, Michael and Liz took their guests up to their apartment along with Sweet and Miriam. Isabel marveled at the spacious living are, absolutely in love with the old world charm Michael had managed to keep in it. It was a decorators dream come true.

She was a little disappointed at what she was as wasted space in the master bedroom that was serving as Michael’s studio. She took Liz aside for a little shop talk.

“You know he’d turn this into a bedroom if you asked him too Liz. I mean it could be romantic, and sexy...”

Liz shook her head, “I appreciate the thought Isabel, but I like it the way it is. I get to write in my journal while Michael’s painting. And besides, the lighting just wouldn’t be right in any other room.”

“But you could still write in your journal out there and he could paint in the other room, it wouldn’t be so different.” Isabel argued half-heartedly.

“I love knowing he’s there Isabel.” Liz countered. “I love the paint splotches on the floor and the smell of oils mixed with turpentine. I love hearing paint tubes drop on that table and his bare feet shuffle on the wood when he moves around each piece. I can’t imagine not hearing that. It wouldn’t be us.”

Isabel sighed heavily, the picture she’d created in her mind of a bedroom right out of Gone With the Wind fading with every word Liz spoke about the charm and infinite romance the room held for she and Michael. They didn’t need silk drapes and overstuffed chais lounges, matching pillows or four poster beds. She was beginning to agree that indeed her vision would not have held true to who Michael and Liz were. Bare, stripped, with nothing to hide. Simple.

Michael, with Lexi firmly glued into his arms, she already beyond smitten with her shaggy haired uncle, took Kyle and Max around the apartment telling them about the floor he’d sanded and refinished with his own labor and sweat and the cabinets in the kitchen that he and Liz had stripped and refinished together. It was evident that even before Liz had arrived in New Orleans that a lot of Michael soul had gone into his home. Now their home.

They dropped Isabel, Kyle and Lexi’s bags in Michael’s old room where’d they’d be staying and he took them into the room that he and Liz shared. Max could hear the steady rhythm of Michael’s voice telling Kyle how he did have to use a little alien magic to extend and deepen their closet when he moved into the room, but Max’s attention focused on the bed.

It took up a great deal of the room, it being California king. Michael was far too tall for the regular beds and told Max when they were teenagers one of the first things he’d buy, when he got any kind of money, was a nice big bed that wouldn’t give him muscles cramps from trying to fit on it.

The bed was neatly made, simple, not a dust ruffle in sight, a deal breaker when Michael agreed to move into the room with Liz. He was not a believer in anything frilly and he knew Liz didn’t need that. Max lost himself in the stitching of the old quilt, one of Grandma Claudia’s that Liz had inherited after her death, at the foot of the bed. That very quilt used to reside at the end of the bed he used to share with Liz. He’d never told Isabel, that the missing quilt was his final clue that Liz had left him and hadn’t been taken. And now there it was, lying comfortably on the bed that Liz, his wife, shared with Michael, his brother. It was too much.

Max let out a slight cough to cover the sob that escaped his throat and excused himself to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Kyle, Sweet and Michael all exchanged a knowing glance. This was going to be harder for Max than either Kyle or Michael had bargained for. Sweet followed Max out of the room to check on the disheartened man, finding him standing in the living room staring at Michael’s Dangerous painting.

“Little overwhelmin’?” Sweet asked him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Max nodded. He’d initially been wary of both Sweet and Miriam, uncomfortable with the fact that more people had been pulled into their alien web and moreover they were people he didn’t know. But even as bitter as he was with Michael, the fact that his brother had let these people not only into his life , but his heart and trusted them with both, gave Max a strong sense of comfort. That and in the short span of time he’d spent around him, Sweet had managed to work his considerable charm on the distraught young man.

“Don’t imagine this is easy for you. Seein’ your wife in love with another man.” Sweet said, still staring ahead at the painting with Max.

“Kinda hard to miss that Michael is in love with her. It’s everywhere.” Max gestured at the painting. “It’s suffocating.”

Sweet’s heart pinched a bit. Max still hadn’t acknowledged seeing the love that Liz held for Michael. He’d heard this boy was stubborn and single minded when it came to his wife, but Sweet was sure Max had to see what was so clear to everyone else. Even the little girl, Lexi, had sensed it. But there Max stood, trying to keep his toehold in Liz’s life.

“Why don’t you get your bag, Max.” Sweet said deciding that the place and moment were wrong for any words of wisdom he might have to provide the shattering young man.

Max took his eyes away from the painting, finally looking over at Sweet, “I don’t understand... I thought...”

“You really want to stay in the same apartment where your wife is in bed with your brother, while you’re sleeping on the couch underneath that painting?” Sweet asked him matter-of-factly, “You said it yourself... its suffocatin’ and from they way I see it you’re barely hangin’ on by a thread here.”

“You don’t know a thi...” Max began to protest, “Did Michael ask you to put me up?”

Sweet shook his head, “No. Liz did. And even if she hadn’t I would have volunteered. There’s way too much tension for you to be in stayin’ in their home and with your niece around...”

“But I need a chance to talk to Liz...” Max argued trying to disguise his desperation.

“And you’ll get it, Boy. She’s not avoidin’ you...”

“She’s doing a fair impression of it.” Max interrupted.

Sweet shook his head, “And I thought there wasn’t anyone alive more stubborn than Michael.” He held Max’s hard eyes with his gentle ones, “You keep pushin’ like you are Max, and this is only gonna end badly.”

“I don’t want it to end at all.” Max fired back in a forced whisper, “No one seems to get that!”

Sweet saw the pain that resided in Max’s heart bared in his eyes. This boy stood in the way of his son’s happiness and yet he found himself wanting to hug the stuffing out this poor man, who loved so deeply if not misguidedly. It was clear to anyone that saw Max that he was still in love with Liz, no one would deny him that.

But it was also clear he was clinging to whatever love Liz had left for him and in doing so, was letting himself waste away in agony at every rejection or new facet of her life that didn’t include him. He’d been so singularly focused that he was neglecting himself physically and emotionally, pinning his entire world’s happiness on retrieving Liz’s love, only to watch it crumble around him. Max had to let go, but he just wasn’t ready.

“Look,” Sweet offered, his voice sympathetic, “Just give it another day. Y’all are her til after New Years. Let them enjoy the reunion... even if you can’t.”

Max gritted his teeth, “If Michael and Liz hadn’t left in the fir...” he trailed off, but the kind wisdom of this old man soothed him, “Yeah...a day... Waited this long haven’t I?”

“That’s the spirit.” Sweet chuckled, patting the young man’s shoulder.

~*~

While there was still an uneasy tension in the air with the triangle of Liz, Michael and Max, things had managed to calm down as the day turned into evening. The time had been spent catching up on the years missed and the present. Lexi alternated between Liz and Michael’s laps reveling in the closeness and love she’d missed out on from either of them in their absence.

Liz and Michael had made a conscious effort, on Max’s behalf, to not be too overt with their affection for one another, but they weren’t inclined to hide it either. He needed to see that their relationship was real, alive, not some fleeting fling that would run its course. They’d been careful not to discuss the ins and outs of their new relationship knowing the heartache and tension it would cause him. They stuck to Michael’s art, the bar and Liz’s classes.

Max had been content to sit back and watch the revelry, elated, on some level to see his family back together and coming to really love the new editions that were Sweet and Miriam. Sweet had regaled them with stories about Michael, how they’d met the times before Liz came into the picture and even some things Liz hadn’t heard about yet.

Max watched the interaction between Michael and Sweet, seeing the paternal nature to their relationship. The awe and sense of respect Michael had for the man, not something Michael doled out to anyone, let alone an older man. Michael had always respected Jim Valenti, but Max swore he never saw the easy adoration Michael seemed to hold for Sweet. The love. It made Max miss his own father all the more, though he was genuinely happy that Michael had finally filled that piece of his heart that had always been missing.

When the day’s excitements finally caught up with her, Lexi fell asleep, her head resting comfortably in Liz’s lap and her legs draped over Michael’s. She’d threaded her little finger through Michael’s while Liz absently stoked her hair, and the volume of their conversation lowered, as if on instinct.

About forty minutes later the reunited friends decided to turn in. Miriam and Sweet had offered to show Isabel and Kyle their city the next morning, and Michael and Liz offered to babysit Lexi.

While Liz was escorting Sweet, Miriam and Max out, he stopped her briefly, “Liz...can we talk tomorrow? I know you guys will have Lexi, but....”

Liz nodded, “Tomorrow.” a small smile touched her lips, “She’ll probably monopolize all of Michael’s time anyway.”

Max smiled looking back at the tyke curled up on Michael’s lap fast asleep. Kyle tried to pick his daughter up to take her to bed and she clutched Michael’s shirt tightly furrowing her brow, “No Daddy. I sleep with, Grumpy.”

Isabel opened her mouth to tell Lexi no, but Michael waved his hand at his sister, “She can sleep with us tonight, Is. Its okay.”

Kyle arched an eyebrow over at Liz, “You sure...I mean how grouchy is Shaggy here if he doesn’t get his nightly...” But he was stopped with a hard nudge from his wife, when a pained expression consumed Max’s face.

Liz chuckled lightly at Kyle, “Its not him you have to worry about.”

She looked back at Max and saw the same expression Isabel had. She hated that she’d put it there, but she wasn’t going to hide the fact that she shared a bed with Michael. It would easy to avoid touchy subjects for sake of Max’s fragile ego, but the sooner he accepted that this was way things were, the sooner he could move on with his own life.

Michael rose off the couch with Lexi in his arms and Isabel came out of their room with a set of pyjamas to put her in. He looked over at Liz nodding his head towards the bedroom, and she nodded back, letting him know she’d be right behind him.

“I’ll see you in the morning then?” Max asked, doing his best to mask his discomfort. When Liz nodded, he acted boldly placing his hand over hers resting on the door handle and caressed the back of it with his thumb, “You really do look great Liz. I mean... beautiful.”

Liz didn’t jerk her hand away, but rather pulled it away gently and met the man’s eyes who once seemed to hold her soul, with her own, “Thanks Max... and I wish I could say the same for you. I mean you look so... lost.”

“You have that effect on me.” Max told her bluntly. “I miss you... so much.”

“Max... Please... don’t...” Liz protested down casting her eyes. The hope she still saw floating in his was too much for her heart. He never could make things easy.

“I know...tomorrow... sorry... I just...” Max stammered as he shuffled out the door.

“Goodnight Max” Liz said shutting the door quietly.

Max descended the stair of the apartment and down to Miriam and Sweet’s car where the couple gave him concerned looks. Max shook his head in answer letting them know he wasn’t comfortable talking about the myriad of emotions coursing through his heart at the moment.

“I think its time for Linsey.” Sweet whispered to his wife. Miriam’s eyes watered and she kissed her husband’s cheek with a nod.

~*~

When Max had settled into his room at Johnston home, he slipped into the kitchen for a glass of orange juice, and found Sweet seated on a stool with a hot mug of tea. He wordlessly retrieved a glass for Max. Once he had his juice Max took a seat next to the old man.

“Miriam in bed?” he asked starting out the conversation he felt coming from the moment they’d stepped into the house.

“Yeah. She’s an early riser.” Sweet chuckled, “And me bein’ an ol’ night owl... Not sure what the Lord was thinkin’ puttin’ us together. But I sure am glad he did.”

Max smiled, finding Sweet’s grin contagious, “Thanks again for letting me stay here...I coulda just got myself a hotel room...”

“Nonsense.” Sweet admonished him, “You’re Michael and Liz’s family. Means your family to me.”

“You really love Michael don’t you?” Max asked him, upon Sweet’s nod he continued, “Well, I’m glad he found you. He...uh...didn’t have many good father figures growing up.”

“Yeah I know.” Sweet said, “Kinda hard to get that paternal feelin’ for a boy that’s your age.”

Max’s eyes widened. “I didn’t...”

“Sure ya did, Max. And no one is blaming you. It just wasn’t your role to fill.” Sweet said matter-of-factly.

“I’m beginning to wonder if I have a role to play at all anymore.” Max confessed, “Even Liz told me tonight that I look...lost. And I am. I mean how do you go on with half your heart gone?”

“Ya let go.” Sweet answered simply.

Max stared down at his juice watching the frothy bubbles pop one by one, “I’m not ready to do that.”

“You need to be. Holdin’ on is only draggin’ yourself down, boy, and from where I’m sittin’ you ain’t got much further to go before you hit bottom.”

Max sighed heavily, “I’ve loved Liz since I can remember, Sweet. And when she accepted my life, who I was...became my wife... God, I was never happier...and knowing she was there..it made the tough times that much easier... I can’t stop loving her... and I refuse to believe she’s stopped loving me. You don’t share what we had and... It just doesn’t stop.”

“First of all Max... No one has asked you to stop lovin’ Liz. That’d be like askin’ the moon to stop rising or the Earth to stop turnin’. And second, Liz hasn’t stopped lovin’ you...”

“I knew it!” Max said excitedly, but Sweet put up a hand.

“Listen up. I said she hasn’t stopped, but she has changed that love for you. Just like she did for Michael. We all do that.”

Max’s brow furrowed, “Says the man who’s been married...what..five times?”

“You know, just because I’ve been married a few times, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to love deeply young man.” Sweet said a little agitated, “And the truth is I would have stopped at two... ah never mind...”

He moved to get up when Max rested his hand on the old man’s arm, “No...Look Sweet I’m sorry... I just assumed...Please...sit...Two huh? She was The One?”

Sweet nodded, “Thought so. I mean... now that I have Miriam... I think she’s my second chance, but with Linsey... She was so beautiful...and funny... Wasn’t a room she walked into that didn’t just light up for her.” He chuckled a bit, “Liz looks a lot like her. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, slender, a smile that grabbed you right at your heart and didn’t let go...but Linsey, she was tall...nearly an Amazon...least compared to me....Lord, I thought I had it right with her. Shoulda known angels don’t get to stay on Earth for long.”

Max heard the sorrow in Sweet’s voice, “I’m uh...sorry... how did she um...die?”

“Childbirth.” Sweet answered, taking a sip from his tea.

Max was confused, “Childbirth? I’m sorry, but didn’t Michael tell Isabel that you couldn’t have children.”

“Couldn’t and still can’t. Sterile.” Sweet answered, “Wasn’t my baby.”

“Oh...” Max said a little dumbfounded, “That must’ve been hard to take.”

“Not really.” Sweet shrugged his shoulders, sitting back in the chair a bit to get comfortable, “See, Linsey was dating my best friend at the time. Charlie. Good enough guy, but a wild one. Never could be tied down by trivial things like a girlfriend with a baby. So, when Linsey told him she was expectin’, well the son of a bitch took off. Signed up with the merchant marines and set sail two days later. Coulda killed him myself if he hadn’t left...”

“So, how did you end up marrying her?” Max asked, genuinely curious.

“At the time? I just felt it was the right thing to do. Back in those days it was much worse to pregnant and unmarried, than it is nowadays...and with a mixed baby to boot. Linsey and I were friends and after what Charlie did to her, she wasn’t interested in marryin’ for love. So she accepted my proposal and all the prejudice that came with being a white girl married to a black man in the sixties...in the south.”

“So you weren’t even in love when you got married?” Max asked, a bit stunned.

“Oh I was smitten, but no... the love came later.” Sweet said his voice catching a bit at the memories his story was evoking. “Something about watching a life growing inside someone... in her... Didn’t matter that the baby wasn’t mine, became mine every second her belly grew. We talked about names, got through the morning sickness and the cravings. The first kick...” Sweet chuckled, “That was the first time she kissed me too. Really kissed me. I’d just come home from work and I would always put my hand on her belly greeting her and the child and boom...just kicked. Linsey was so excited she kissed me. It started out as kiss of celebration, but when she pulled back, we just knew... magic.”

Max grinned, “Yeah... felt the same way with Liz... we just had this magic...”

“Had, bein’ the key word there son... do ya still feel it, from her?” Sweet asked taking a momentary detour from his story.

Max downcast his eyes once again and cleared his throat, “So...um....after that kiss things were good with you and Linsey huh?”

Sweet nodded, moving on. He knew he’d hit a sore spot with Max. “Yeah. Fell in love with my best friend, go figure. Wasn’t always easy though. I mean Linsey was a pistol...and those hormones, Lord, there were days I was lucky to come out alive.” He laughed heartily, “Like the time I hid her favorite pair of platform sandals. She was about five months along by that point and it wasn’t a good thing for her to be on heels, but she argued with me about it. She didn’t see why she had to sacrifice fashion for practicality. So I hid them. Then had to hide myself.

“I tried to tell that even if not for her own safety, those shoes made us stick out even more than we did. She was a tall girl as I said, but with those shoes...made me look like a damn dwarf. A mixed race couple expectin’ a baby walking down Bourbon St. was enough of an attention getter, believe me.”

“She was character, huh?” Max asked sharing in Sweet’s laughter.

“The best of ‘em.” Sweet answered, “Now back in those days they still had separate hospitals for whites and blacks. We knew when the time came for the baby to be born, I wouldn’t be able to go into the hospital with her and while the black hospital would take her it was about a hundred miles away. Not exactly convenient. So we contacted a midwife...weren’t too many of those around either, so we couldn’t really afford to be choosey. We’d have the baby at home.”

“But something went wrong didn’t it?” Max asked tentatively, sensing the pain of what happened to Linsey was something that never waned for Sweet.

“Horribly.” Sweet answered with a shaky breath, “Baby was breech... and Linsey, well she was bleeder, add to that high blood pressure with the stress she was under when things got scary.... And that midwife... she had no idea how to handle the problems she was faced with. Found out later she’d never actually delivered a baby before. We were her first...and last She kept telling us she could handle it... all we had to do was relax... But God there was so much blood...and Linsey, she was strong... but she was in so much pain... I knew I had to get her to a hospital.”

“Did you?” Max asked enthralled.

“Yeah.” Sweet said, the tears in his eyes already beginning to spill onto his cheeks, “Took her to the white hospital five miles away. Of course they wouldn’t let me come in...be with her... but a nurse there...she was mighty kind...told me to wait outside, she’d let me know... but I knew it was bad. Linsey was unconscious when I brought her in.”

Sweet wiped his eyes and took a sip of tea, in an attempt to collect himself, “I paced out there for what must have been hours. Frantic out of my mind. Finally I just got down on my knees and prayed. That’s when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was that kind nurse... I knew when I looked up at her, she was cryin’... Linsey had bled out...she was gone. Didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Max swallowed the lump in his throat at the old man’s pain, “What about the baby? Couldn’t they save it?”

“No.” Sweet answered, his sorrow so raw, “Oxygen starved. Never had a chance.”


“I’m sorry.” Max said wiping away a tear, finally for someone’s pain other than his own and knowing something about losing a child, even though his own son was alive and well...hopefully happy.

Sweet nodded, “I was pretty much a useless soul at that point. I’d just lost my reason’s for bein’. The love of my wife and child. And I walked around for a year after that...dead...Cursin’ out God, askin’ him why he didn’t just take me along with him for all the good I was doin’. Didn’t see why there was any good in me stickin’ round and I asked him to take me, but he wouldn’t.”

“So what happened? I mean you seem okay today?” Max asked. “And no offense, but what does your wife’s death have to do with my...”

“I let go.” Sweet interrupted. “I took a look at myself and figured that for whatever reason the Lord saw fit to keep me around and I had to stop followin, Linsey and our child into the grave. I loved Linsey, but I had to let her go if I was ever gonna be useful to anyone ever again. And I did. I let go and moved on. If I hadn’t I wouldn’t be sitting with you here now.

“Sure I made mistakes. Who doesn’t? But all of that led me to here. To Miriam. To Michael. To Liz. All of that... happiness, because I let go. And you have to do the same. Liz may not be dead, but your marriage is and accordin’ to her it has been for a long time. You said it yourself, you’re lost. Best thing you can do, for her, and mostly for yourself Max, is...Just. Let. Go.”

Max clenched his jaw, as though feeling his grip on the life he wanted back, slipping through his teeth. “I’ve don’t know any other way. Liz is my happiness, Sweet. I’m too scared to just let that go.”

Sweet sighed heavily and got up off the stool placing his empty cup in the sink, “Then I don’t know what else to tell you Max. Liz has moved on with her life and you’re just standin’ still while the whole world goes on around you. You may have been a king, Boy, but even there the world didn’t stop for you and this one won’t either.”

Sweet made his way out of the kitchen content to let Max ruminate about his life and the story he’d relayed, hoping in some way it had made its way past the denial, pain, and anger and struck a chord of truth.

“Wait...” Max called out softly, and Sweet turned around, “Um... do you...uh, know what it was. The baby. Was it a boy or a girl?”

“A boy. A son.” Sweet answered, his voice cracking.

“A son... “ Max said wistfully, remembering the brief time he’d had with his own. “You said, you and Linsey talked about names... What...”

“Michael.” Sweet said with a smile, “His name was Michael.”

~*~
TBC...

[Guest]

Chapter 14

Liz was the first to wake the next morning, feeling a slight chill around her legs. She reached for the quilt that Michael and Lexi had kicked off in the wee hours of the morning, both unaccustomed to their current sleeping arrangements. Lexi, because of the warmer winters of the bayou, and Michael unused to wearing to pyjamas to bed.

Liz reveled in her early awakening, surveying the inseparable duo next to her. Both Lexi and Michael lay on their sides facing one another, Lexi curled up in little ball practically burying her face into her uncle’s neck. Their hair fell in soft, if not messy, light brown waves around them and Michael draped his arm, protectively over her little body, while she rested one of her palms over his heart in a silent, innocent gesture of possession.

The night before, after Liz had escorted Max out of the apartment and he’d made his uncomfortable declaration, Liz entered the room she shared with Michael, worrying her bottom lip. She looked up to their bed and found Lexi fast asleep in the middle still wearing her street clothes and Michael sitting at the edge of the bed, staring in blatant bewilderment at the tiny nightgown Isabel had given him to put on Lexi.

“Uh...Liz?” he whispered scratching his eyebrow, “How do we...uh... put this on her without waking her up?”

Liz immediately forgot her anxiety of a few minutes earlier and giggled at Michael’s predicament as she approached him, taking the tiny red nightgown out of his large hands, “One thing you need to know about Lexi is that she can sleep through just about anything, especially after having such an exciting day.”

“You sure?” Michael asked skeptically, having only rarely experienced such a deep sleep in either of his lifetimes.

Liz kissed his cheek before crawling over the bed to her niece sitting the girl up gently and delicately removing her shirt. Michael sucked in a slight breath when Lexi mumbled sleepily as Liz pulled the pyjamas over the little girl’s messy curls. Liz smiled at him watching him relax when Lexi didn’t open her eyes and fell back against her pillow laying limply on top of the blankets as her aunt pulled off her jeans and handed them to Michael to neatly fold and place on the armchair.

Liz pulled the quilt over Lexi’s legs and got up to retrieve one of Michael’s old T-shirts out of his drawer for herself to wear. Michael caught on, but his brow once again furrowed.

“Do I even own pyjamas, Liz?” He asked his girlfriend as she shed her clothes.

Liz smiled, shaking her head handing him his sweats, “Just wear these for tonight.”

Michel nodded retreating into the bathroom to change on the off chance Lexi would wake up. When he returned a few minutes later Liz was already in bed nestled next to Lexi under the quilt, running her fingers through the tot’s hair and tear slipping down her cheek.

Michael climbed onto his side of bed, leaning over Lexi to give Liz a delicate kiss, “Did Max say something to upse...” he asked when he pulled away.

Liz shook her head, “I can handle, Max. I just didn’t realize how much I’d missed Lexi until now.”

“Regrets?” Michael asked, slight worry and guilt tinging his voice.

“Only that I had to miss out on so much with her, but I wouldn’t change where it brought me.” She answered him.

Michael nodded sharing the same feeling with Liz. He sighed as they lay against the pillow, their hands laced together over Lexi’s tummy, “Tomorrow is gonna be rough...with Max isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Liz breathed, “But I’ll make it. I just don’t know how many ways I can tell him our marriage is over, before he really believes it.”

“You believe it don’t you?” Michael asked, already knowing the answer before she nodded, “Then the rest is up to him, Liz.” He added, “You can’t control his heart.”

Liz rolled her eyes and gave Michael a crooked smile, “And they call Max the control freak...”

Michael was about to comment when Lexi shifted beneath her their hands scooting herself into Michael’s body. His eyes widened a bit over at Liz, unfamiliar with having something so tiny sleep so close to him.

“I’m gonna crush her.” He whispered to Liz in a mild panic.

Liz shook her head, “No you won’t. You’re the protector, remember?” she teased.

Michael looked at her skeptically, but relaxed when Lexi, still in her slumber brought her hand up to curl a lock of his hair in her fingers, mumbling, “My Unca.”.

Not another word had been exchanged between Michael and Liz as moments later they both fell into a slumber, unusually at ease having a new body in their bed with them.

Now, as the morning light crept across the hardwood floors, Liz saw Lexi turn in her uncle’s arms and flutter her eyes open to stare up at her aunt. She sat up and away from Michael staring down at him then back up at Liz, “He still sleepy?” She asked with a yawn.

Liz nodded, “Wanna let him sleep some more?”

Lexi shook her head, “Nope. Play time.”She whispered with an impish giggle.

“Okay.” Liz told Lexi, her tone a bit warning, “But remember his name. He’s Grumpy for a reason.”

Lexi shrugged her shoulder at her aunt, “He love me.”

Liz clamped a hand over her mouth stifling loud laughter at Lexi’s confidence, well placed for Michael did love this little girl with a gentleness he rarely displayed.

“He tickle?” Lexi asked Liz in a loud whisper.

Liz chuckled seeing the corners of Michael’s mouth fight to not turn into a smile. He’d been awake since the moment Lexi had moved in his arms, but was content to let the little girl have her fun. Liz nodded, raising an eyebrow at her, “Very ticklish.”

Lexi giggled impishly and surveyed her uncle trying to guess his most ticklish spot. So much to choose from and he was a giant, so she had a lot of area to cover and didn’t know where to begin. She looked back at Liz, hoping her aunt could give her the inside track.

Now Liz could hardly give away Michael’s most ticklish spot, that area was reserved for only aunt’s and uncle’s without niece’s in the room, and usually led to things that would put them at the top of Santa’s naughty list, but she could go for spot number two and three. “I ususal get a pretty good reaction from his tummy and his ribs.” She told her niece.

Lexi nearly squealed at the information, but tamped it down not wanting to wake her slumbering uncle before she had any fun. Armed with her aunt’s traitorous information she crept her way closer and reached out her tiny fingers, wiggling them lightly over Michael’s belly button. She nearly jumped out of her skin and back into Liz as he immediately brought his hand up to brush away the tickling presence, grumbling softly before settling back into feigned sleep.

Liz nearly fell over with laughter at the devilish glint in her niece’s eyes, reminiscent of Kyle when he was playing practical jokes on his best friend. Lexi scooted forward again, this time tickling Michael’s ribs. Liz watched Michael, unable to contain the smile on his face, and then grumbled more loudly sending Lexi scrambling back into her aunt’s lap.

When Lexi was certain Michael had fallen back asleep she looked back up at her aunt and Liz made a gesture to his armpits. Lexi scrunched up her nose, trying to push down the giggles that were tickling her throat. She foolishly took her eyes away from Michael’s arms to watch his face as she wiggled her fingers toward him.

Just as her fingertips reached his skin Michael’s eyes flew open and he gathered the surprised toddler in her arms growling comically and tickling her tummy with one of his large hands. Lexi squealed, laughed and, writhed in her punishment. Tears of laughter streamed down Liz’s face at Lexi’s hearty laugh, wondering how such a small thing could hold that much joy inside her.

“You no sleep, Unca!” Lexi giggled when Michael stopped, folding his arms over his chest in an effort to look grumpy, when he could barely contain his own laughter, Lexi’s far too contagious.


“Hard to sleep when I’ve got a little bug crawling all over me.” He grumbled.

Lexi held her sides, “Auntie helped!”

Liz’s eyes widened as Michael shifted his gaze up to her and raised an amused eyebrow, “Lexi James! You sold me out!” she said, in mock shock.

Michael leaned down, whispering loudly to the now seated child, “You know...Auntie is ticklish...And she’s gotta pay the piper too.”

Lexi mimicked her uncle folding her arms across her chest, “Dat’s right. Pay da piper, Auntie.” She said with confidence, although having no idea what her uncle meant.

Liz backed off the bed slowly as Michael wiggled his fingers at Lexi, letting her know exactly wheat he intended to do her auntie, “Now... Michael...You can’t blame me... I was sucked in by Lexi’s cuteness... Can you really say no to her?”

Michael was unfazed as he rose from the bed helping Lexi down as well. Liz nearly doubled over at the hunter-like expression on both of their faces, looking much like a lion teaching a cub how to stalk her prey. Liz backed away reaching for the doorknob as Michael and Lexi made their way around the bed, the same devilish glint in their eyes.

“Lexi..” Liz reasoned, “Remember, your mommy and daddy are sleeping....”

“Dey need wake up.” The little imp argued.

Liz’s shoulder’s sagged turning the doorknob behind her and her eyes fell to Michael, “And if you want me to make breakfast...”

“I’m a better cook.” Michael interrupted he and Lexi seemingly inching toward her in a tandem.

Liz narrowed her eyes at him, momentarily forgetting her advancing tickle attackers, “You should really be nicer to me..” She tired to argue, “I still have both of your Christmas presents!”

Liz swung the door open quickly as they all broke into a run heading for the kitchen. Liz screamed and laughed as they cornered her against the cabinets and Lexi could barely tickle her aunt for her own laughter. Michael was able to hold his focus concentrating on Liz’s ribs as she squirmed against him.

“Michael!” Liz giggled, “Lexi will never get her birthday presents if you keep...ahhh!...tickling me.”

Lexi’s eyes widened and she stopped laughing, “Christmas...and birfday presents?”

Liz tried to nod, but Michael’s relentless tickling barely afforded her a coherent movement. Lexi furrowed her brow in thought and then a moment later started pulling on Michael’s arm. “Stop Unca! Stop! Auntie had nuff!”

Michael stopped, glaring down at Liz, “Bribery? That’s low, Elizabeth.”

Liz leaned up on her tiptoes dropping a kiss on Michael’s lips, “But effective.” She downcast her eyes at Lexi, who was tugging at her uncle’s sweats, a pleading look plastered on her face.

Michael relented, releasing Liz from his grasp and went down to the hall closet to retrieve one of Lexi’s birthday presents. Liz started the coffee and set about fixing breakfast, despite Michael’s earlier comment about being the better cook. Lexi and Michael sat at the dining room table and she tore into the box. It was a child’s board game, Memory.

“Oh we have dis at day care!” she squealed at Michael, “I very good!”

“Prove it.” Michael told her in challenge, beyond amused by the child’s raised eyebrow, reminiscent of both her parents.

Liz started the coffee and padded around the kitchen fixing scrambled eggs, toast and sausage every once in while tossing her gaze over to the dining room table to watch Michael and Lexi. She shook her head as they started a new game spreading the pieces out on the table and Lexi climbed into Michael’s lap, her elbows propping her head up on the table, ultimate concentration painted on their faces.

Liz nearly threw an egg at Michael when she saw him raise a hand slightly, so Lexi wouldn’t see, point a finger at a particular piece on the board and it began to shake slightly. He didn’t want Lexi to be disappointed if she didn’t get it right, so he figured he’d help her along. Lexi saw the small piece of cardboard flutter against the table and she whipped her head around pointing a finger at Michael.

“Unca, I no learn if you cheat.” she scolded.

Michael held up his hands in denial when he felt someone slap the back of his head lightly, “You tell him girlie.” Kyle chuckled. “You teaching my daughter bad habits there, Grumpy?”

“Oh shut up.” Isabel rolled her eyes as she followed behind her husband, “If I had a nickel for every time I’ve caught you helping Lexi with your powers I’d...”

“Have nuff to send me to Hav...Harvad.” Lexi said finishing her mother’s sentence with droll far too old for her young age, and then shrugged her shoulders looking back at Michael, “What Harvad?”

“Harvard.” Michael chuckled, “Is a school for really, really smart people Lexi. Like your Aunt Liz.”

Liz looked up at him from her cooking and gave a wistful smile and what might have been, but was entirely happy with where he life’s path had led her.

Lexi giggled, “Den I go to Harvad. I smart.” She scrunched up her nose in thought. “Do dey have nap time dere?”

After everyone got through laughing Liz passed out large mugs of coffee for everyone. Lexi stared at the a steaming mugs in the adults hands and pouted, “I want coffee too.”

Liz shook her head at the little girl handing her a glass of orange juice, with a crazy straw to appease the girl, “Sorry munchkin, but I’ll share some juice with ya and you won’t feel so left out.”

“Dat’s fair.” Lexi said matter-of-factly taking a sip of her juice when Liz did.

Michael laughed, “Besides Lexi, coffee stunts your growth. Just look at your dad.”

“Ha.Ha. Splice Boy.” Kyle said dryly then surveyed the table, “You letting Lexi open her presents early...cause if that’s the case...Gimmee.” he held out his hand.

Michael shook his head rising off the chair and placing Lexi back in it, “Is that how he looks when he’s asking for se...” but Isabel widened her eyes at her brother... “Uh... marital relations?”

Isabel was laughing too hard to get mad and nodded, “Except usually he’s on his knees with his pants around his ankles.”

“Now that’s appetizing.” Liz commented holding a hand over her mouth in feigned nausea.

Kyle glared between his wife and Michael, “And to think I actually admitted missing you.” he told Michael.

“You just missed catching glimpes of me in the shower, Midget. I mean, I can hardly blame you.” Michael batted his eyelashes as he plated the finished sausage and wrapped his arms around Liz as she sipped her juice.

“Ah.” Kyle sighed, “Guess it wouldn’t be a proper visit without an indecent proposal from Grumpy here. I know I’m the real reason you left. I mean how many times can you hear “No” from your hearts desire and not be utterly shattered.”

As if on some sort of unearthly cue the door to Michael and Liz’s apartment swung open ushering in Sweet, Miriam and Max, his eyes immediately searching out Liz, immediately stiffening when he saw her residing in Michael’s embrace smiling as he pulled aside her long dark hair to drop a gentle kiss on her neck.

Michael quirked an eyebrow over at Kyle, as he joined them by the stove, “Dude, you are good.”

“It’s cosmic.” Kyle mused.

Michael felt Max’s eyes on he and Liz in their gentle embrace, almost willing them to separate, but both he and Liz refused to comply. It was an unspoken pact between the two of them, they loved Max in their own ways, but it was time to stop sparing his feelings when it came to their relationship. Releasing their hold on each other, specifically to make things less uncomfortable for Max, would suggest that they felt their relationship was wrong. Not a notion either of them held.

Max’s stomach clenched as he saw that Michael neither released his hold on Liz, nor did he tighten it either. They simply remained locked together in ease, despite the fact that he was sitting in front of them. How was he to seem unaffected by the gentle touches and gestures Liz gave Michael, that had only years before been delivered upon his own skin? She was letting Michael touch her like a lover. A husband. And yet Max remembered how she recoiled from his touch the night before, and he was her husband.

As much as Sweet’s story of loss had touched Max, he felt there were a few major differences. Sweet had to let go, Linsey was dead. Liz was standing only a few feet away vibrant, alive...happy. It wasn’t as if he was holding onto the spirit of someone who’d died, was he?

Max felt a delicate hand pat his clenched fist and he tore his eyes away from Michael and Liz, meeting Lexi’s smiling, but concerned face, and relaxed immediately at her innocence and charm.

“You play wit me, Unca.” she said softly, feeling his hand loosen from its balled up state. She loved her Uncle Max with all her heart, but she didn’t understand why he was so tense. Mommy had once told her that when you love someone, you want them to be happy. Auntie was happy, and Uncle Max loved her, so why was he so sad, so angry?

Max nodded, taking one last glance at Michael and Liz, unwilling to acknowledge the further sinking feeling he got. That would mean he was losing. Losing her. And with his happiness still tied to the dark-haired woman in his brother’s arms...losing was not yet an option.

~*~

After breakfast Kyle, Isabel, Liz and Lexi dressed for the day. Michael remained in his sweats, planning on doing some painting with Lexi, while Liz and Max had their talk.

Isabel was passing out last minute instruction to Michael regarding the care of her daughter. Lexi rolled her eyes up at her mother. She was with Grumpy, the protector. She’d never felt safer in her life. Michael glanced down at the toddler and saw her annoyance with her mother, winking at her.

When Isabel leaned down to give her daughter a kiss Michael disappeared into the hall closet again retrieving yet another one of Lexi’s birthday presents. The child immediately squealed with excitement when she saw a child-sized wooden easel with a pink ribbon on top of it in Michael’s hand and a package of bright finger-paints in the other

“I paint! I paint!” she chanted, stripping off her t-shirt mimicking her uncle’s state of dress when he painted.

Isabel looked at Michael and sighed, “Its not even Christmas, Michael you’re going to spoil her.”

Michael shrugged his shoulder’s trying not to double over in laughter at the topless tot, “Isn’t that my job as uncle?” he asked his sister, receiving an unamused glare, “Look, I have at least two birthdays to make up for. Indulge me?”

Isabel, having rarely seen the boyish side to Michael as they grew up, immediately caved when she saw the pleading look on his face and the genuine tone behind his words. He’d regretted missing out so much on Lexi’s, and her life. He knew gifts wouldn’t make up for it, but his gifts gave him a chance to interact with his niece, expose her to his loves and talents. Letting her know, on her level, who her Uncle Michael really was.

“Just make sure you clean her up by the time we get home.” Isabel mildly ordered, Michael chuckled and nodded.

“Fun, Mommy.” Lexi said pushing her parents out the door with Sweet and Miriam, “Go have it!”

“I swear.” Isabel said in mock exhaustion, “I don’t know where you get your bossy streak from.”

Kyle snorted, “It’s a mystery mien wife.”

Max, Michael and Liz caught the deathly glare Isabel shot back at Kyle and grinned as they exited the house. Lexi shook her head, “Daddy got big mouth.”

“No argument here sprite.” Michael told her, “But this is a pretty romantic town. I think Daddy will get off light this time.”

“‘Mantic?” Lexi asked scrunching up he nose at the word, “Dat mean more kissin?”

Michael nodded, “Yup. Fraid so.”

“Blech.” she said in disgust.

Liz chuckled, “You won’t say that when you’re older Little Miss.”

“She better.” Max and Michael said in unison, not even wanting to ponder the possibility of their niece kissing boys that weren’t them, in ways that weren’t familial.

Liz rolled her eyes, “Great. Uncles with powers. Lexi you’ll wind up a nun.”

“Nun, mean no cooties?” Lexi asked earnestly.

“Definitely.” Michael answered, “We want you cootie free for as long as possible. No boys.”

“Michael...” Liz warned half-heartedly.

“What?” Michael asked innocently, “Us boys are nuthin’ but trouble.”

“He’s got point.” Max agreed, sensing a need to lighten the mood before the heavy discussion he was destined to have with his wife in the next few minutes.

Lexi laughed, “You not boy, Grumpy. You Unca.”

“Great. I’ve been deemed asexual by my niece.” Michael mused.

“Its just one opinion, Michael.” Liz said with a wink, a low tone in her voice that let Michael know in her eyes, he was anything but asexual.

Lexi grew bored with the grown-ups conversation and took the finger-paints from Michael’s hands, “Come on Grumpy. I paint. I paint!”

“Okay. Okay Mini Monet.” Michael relented, and then approached Liz, looking at Max just behind her, “I don’t have to remind you to be civil do I?” He asked in a low tone so Lexi couldn’t hear.

“Of course not.” Max glared.

Liz put a gentle hand on Michael’s bared stomach, bringing his gaze down to her, “I’ll be fine. Go entertain your niece.”

Michael nodded kissing her forehead and muttering, “Asexual and a child’s plaything. She owns me, doesn’t she?”

“You love it.” Liz smiled glancing down at the impatient, fidgeting child.

“Yeah. I kinda do.” he admitted, dropping a small kiss on Liz’s lips before Lexi tugged on his arm.

“Ugh! You too Unca? Too much kissin’!” she griped as they disappeared into the studio.

“Can’t argue with her there.” Max muttered. Liz ignored the comment and moved to sit on the couch.

Max was about to join her when his eyes caught the Dangerous painting, “Uh... Liz? Do you think we can talk in the dining room... I just...”

Liz followed his gaze and nodded. Yes, Max needed to realize that she and Michael were indeed together, but their was no need to assault him with it. She rose off the couch and Max followed her into the dining seating them selves next to one another.

Silence hung in the air as neither Max nor Liz knew how to begin the conversation. It was clear that Max had a plethora of things to say or ask, but seemed to crowd his mind and he didn’t know what to ask first. Uncomfortable with the silence Max stood up pacing slightly.

“I’ve thought about all the things I’ve wanted to say to you since you left... or what you might say to me... and I can’t...”

“So keep it simple, Max.” Liz provided, Michael’s philosophy on life seeping into her own.

Max stopped pacing seating himself again next to her and stared at his hands. Another minute passed before he looked up at her, “Come. Home.” he said plainly. “Please...” he added in afterthought.

Liz tightened her lips against teeth, “I. Am. Home.”

“How can you be married to me, and call living here...” he gestured at the apartment she shared with Michael, “‘home?’”

“I’m not married to you, Max...” Liz protested, but was quickly cut off.

“Really. Because I got a minister and a piece of paper that says you are. Hell, Michael was my best man. Even he’ll admit you’re...”

“And you wonder why I won’t come back with you?” Liz raised her voice, trying desperately to be heard. “I can’t get a word in edgewise and you make everything so God damn literal Max!”

Max watched the frustration play out of Liz’s face. This was starting all wrong. She was already on the defensive and pulling away from any sort of openness they might share. If he had any hope of understanding her he needed to be prepared to hear some harsh things and swallow them no matter how much it hurt to do so. He nodded at her to continue, watching her take a breath to maintain her composure.

“Yes, I’m married to you, but in name only. I thought I could get through the bad times as long as I loved you, but Max that wasn’t enough. I always believed love would be enough and its just not.” she said with conviction, knowing the words might tear apart the man before her.

“You still love me?” Max asked, unable to hide the love in his voice.

Liz nodded, but put her hand up before Max could spew out his plans for their future, “But not like you want me to. What we had, its gone. It died with the old me.”

“Don’t say that, Liz. You aren’t dead. You’re right here with me.” Max argued, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek, “I look in your eyes and I still see you.” Liz turned her face away and stood up away from Max’s touch. Tears pricked his eyes, “Can you really not stand to be touched by me?”

Liz sighed, “You don’t get to touch me like that anymore, Max.”

Max clenched his jaw, “Like what? Like a husband?” Upon Liz’s nod, Max looked away from her, “ And Michael does?”

“Yes, Max, he does.” she answered plainly, “I love him. Don’t tell me you don’t see it.”

“See what?” Max asked, standing up quickly, causing Liz to jump slightly. Max winced, it was almost as she was afraid of him, “I see... infatuation. I saw it when he left five years ago. No one thinks I paid attention when you started listening to Metallica, watching hockey, or even wearing that damn coat he left behind. I figured it was your way of coping with the loss of yet another friend. Alex was dead. Maria left. Michael filled the hole in your heart until he left. I never mistook it for anything more than it was. A desperate need to cling to the life you left behind. Michael’s was a part of that.

“And when you found him... you acted on that infatuation. It hurts, but its not unforgivable. You want to hurt me for Tess. I mean, I thought you were over that, but coming here, I see that you aren’t.”

“Infatuation?” Liz balked, “You realize you’re making my case for me? Heaven forbid I should have an original thought or feeling that didn’t have your kingly stamp of approval! You really feel me incapable of loving anyone more than I loved you?” she growled, incensed that Max was whittling down her feelings, her love for Michael to something as immature and small as infatuation.

“And as for Tess, I put that behind me before I married you. Whatever feelings of deceit I felt over you sleeping with her, creating a life with her... they died right along with her. They had to or I never would have married you in the first place. So, you don’t get to place the blame on Tess. A dead woman controls nothing I feel, and she can’t be a scapegoat for our problems. “Infatuation.” she nearly laughed.

Max had all the evidence in the world around him of Michael’s love for Liz. Tangible and alive in his paintings. And Liz’s love for Michael, in the touches and she gave him. How was it Max had made through his life this far with blinders on? “It hasn’t once cross your mind since you came here, that I might really love Michael? Or that he might love me?” she asked.


“Michael is incapable of that kind of love, Liz!” Max bellowed, more angry that she was right.

Liz’s eyes widened in shock and she brought her hand up smacking him squarely across the cheek, the sting immediate and jarring. All of her anger, rage was concentrated in that act of violence and while she felt guilty for lashing out, Max’s insistence that Michael’s heart was something small was a cold slap to her own face.

“Michael has always been capable of that kind of love, Max.” Liz seethed, though her voice barely remained above a whisper, “Why is it that you are the only one allowed to love deeply? Just because he didn’t do everything the way you did, with midnight mariachis, white roses, and drunken graffiti, doesn’t mean he wasn’t capable. It just isn’t his style. It never has been.”

Max rubbed his cheek the sting of her cold glare, far more painful than the red mark on his face, “You don’t mean Maria...They didn’t work out.”

“That doesn’t mean they didn’t love each other, Max. They were each other’s first loves, not the final, but the first. They took separate paths, but don’t for a minute think that their love was any less special than what you and I once had.” Liz said willing herself to calm down, for her own sake. “She was the first person he ever really let see him, Max. That’s got to count for something in your eyes.”

“Michael doesn’t let people in, Liz. Not completely. He never has and he never will. Its what drove Maria away.” Max argued.

“Have you gone completely deaf, dumb, and blind all these years Max?” Liz asked genuinely, “You’ve just been standing still all these years, even before we left Roswell, while the rest of us have grown and let go of old hurts. You still see Michael as that damaged teenage boy who trusted no one, when he stopped being that boy a long time ago. Maria’s love showed him that he could get hurt and still survive. That there were people out there worth trusting, worth letting in. I don’t fear Michael’s loving Maria, I embrace it. She opened his heart and helped me get inside.”

Liz approached Max, trying to find the perfect tone or words to get him to understand or hear her words, “Lexi. Yes, she’s a darling little angel, but if Michael was still that mistrusting soul he used to be, even she would have had a hard time breaking through his walls. And my God, look at how Michael is with Sweet. When have you ever known Michael to trust older men after what Hank did to him? Yet he loves that sweet old man like...”

A father.” Max conceded, “ I know. But that’s different, Liz. That’s family.”

“I’m his family too.” Liz countered confidently.

Max nodded, “Of course you are. We became a family unit after graduation...After you and I got married. We had to with all that time spent in such close quarters.” He was willing to agree that they rag tag little group had become something of a family in those strange days, but he was far from willing to admit that the dynamics of that family had changed so drastically.

“And yet that family has fallen apart, Max. One by one, they’ve all left you.” Liz pointed out. “First Maria. Then Michael. Me...”

“I still have Isabel...and Lexi.” Max said almost desperately.

“And Kyle just sorta has to stay because of Lexi and Isabel.” Liz said with biting sarcasm, but quickly returned to calm, knowing petty off hand remarks wouldn’t get them anywhere, “We didn’t fit the mold of what you wanted and you drove us away.”

Max shook his head emphatically, “No you don’t Liz! You don’t get to heap all the responsibility of our marriage falling apart on me! It takes two to succeed... or fail!”

“So you admit our marriage was less than ideal!” Liz caught him, “And I know I failed Max. I own that. The difference is I knew when to let go of something that died!”

“I never said our marriage was perfect!” Max bellowed, “I knew we had our problems, but we used to talk about things, Liz! You used to come to me if something was bothering you. Instead you went to Michael!”

Liz’s eyes widened. He knew about her’s and Michael’s rooftop chats after Maria had left? Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty about those innocent nights spent talking to Michael about everything and nothing. They were the nuggets of happiness she’d managed to find few of after Michael left. It had been the seeds of what would later become love between them, though neither of them knew it at the time.

“Michael listened to me, Max. He heard me when you stopped.” Liz told him refusing to let him make more out of those chats than what they were. “He was being my friend. Nothing more. Don’t cheapen it. Please.”

“You’re not making any sense, Liz.” Max grasped, “I was...am, your husband. You’re supposed to come to me with the troubles weighing on your heart...”

“You were the trouble on my heart, Max.” Liz said raising her voice, “You promised me that even though we were on the run, you were going to make my dreams come true. And yet you have no idea what those dreams were...are. You stopped asking me what they were. I didn’t stop talking... I just stopped telling you what you wanted to hear.”

“What I wanted to hear?” Max asked bewildered.

Liz sighed heavily, “You wanted me to tell you I was happy moving from town to town, working in seedy bars to make ends meet. You wanted me to be delirious despite the fact that I didn’t count the time in months, but the semesters I was missing. You wanted me to be happy with every new promotion you got, when I could barely find stimulation in any of the work I did, because it wasn’t what I knew I could be doing. You wanted me to tell you that your dreams for us was enough, when they weren’t and it killed me, Max.

“Didn’t you see how dead I was before I left. I told you that night after Lexi’s party and yet your answer to all our problems was a baby. A baby?”

“I said marriage counseling... then a baby.” Max corrected, “But you didn’t even try Liz. You just left. You gave up.”

“Yeah Max, I did give up. But by the time you even suggested marriage counseling... we were long over. If I really thought it would have done any good Max I would have gone, but by the time I left I was in danger of losing you as my friend... of hating you for something I gave up to be with you and I couldn’t do that. I can’t hate you, Max.”

“But you are. Being with Michael... It’s the most hateful thing you can do to me. Don’t you see that? You left me to find him, knowing that being with him would cut me so deep... How is that not hateful?” Max begged her to see his pain, and what her relationship with Michael was doing to him.

Liz shook her head, “I’m not in love with Michael to spite you.” Liz insisted, “And I didn’t go looking for Michael, though you’ll never believe that. I left you to find me. To see who I wanted to be without you or your dreams for us. I really didn’t know if my path would lead back to you or further away, but I had to find out.” She glanced toward the studio door, smiling as she hear Lexi’s high pitched giggle mixed with Michael’s low chuckle, “I was on the road for a year before stumbled onto Michael. I wasn’t planning it, but thank God I did. Seems he was part of the journey to me.”

“Why?’ Max scoffed, unable to hide the excruciating pain in his heart at Liz effectively pushing him out and replacing him with Michael. He knew his next words would be bitter, and he wasn’t inclined to disguise it, “Because he’s got the money to pay for your dreams?”

Liz clenched her fist in an effort not to strike Max again, making her relationship with Michael seem to be nothing more than a monetary arrangement. A means to an end. “Because he knows what my dreams are and loves me enough to let me pursue them.” she answered through her teeth. “I’m not his whore, Max. And even if that is what you believe the extent of my relationship is with Michael, why the hell would you want me back?”

Max flinched at her word choice. Is that what he’d really called her with his acidic accusation, “I didn’t mean that, Liz. I would never... I just miss you. I don’t want to give up what we had, could still have. You used to be a fighter. Why can’t you fight for us?”

“I still am a fighter, Max. I just can’t fight for something that isn’t there, at least for me, anymore. And I can’t pretend to fight and give you false hope. Its not fair to you or me.” Liz answered gently.

“Not to mention the fact that you’ve already moved on. Its easy for you to cut ties and walk away, isn’t it?” Max spat.

Liz sat in silence for a moment, mourning the man before her. So broken and shattered by the very act she’d considered her freedom and what he considered as her abandonment of him. They were one in the same, she couldn’t have had one without the other.

Liz let a tear slip down her cheek, “I’ve done a lot of difficult things in my lifetime, Max. But there are two that top my list. Leaving you... and letting Michael into my heart. And I couldn’t have let the second one happen if I didn’t do the first.” She wiped away the tear only to have it replaced by another, “I wanted to be so many things for you, but I lost myself trying to be those things. I’ve given up so many things in my life to be with you and I was in danger of resenting you for that. I couldn’t let that happen. You may not be my husband anymore, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be a part of my life.”

Max caught the sob the threatened to tumble over his lips, “I don’t know how to be anything else to you, Liz.” he placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling her stiffen, but not pull away, “I’ll do whatever takes to be that to you. I see what you want now and I can try harder to give that to you, if you’d just give me a chance.”

Liz brought her hands up to remove Max’s from her shoulders and bit her lip, “You aren’t what I want, Max.” she said watching the pain consume his face, “Not that way. Not anymore.”

“Don’t tell me its too late, Liz. Please. I’ll do anything.” he ran a hand through his hair mussing it, “I shouldn’t have pressured you into having kids. You don’t want them... I see that now. And if it means you come home, I’ll give up that dream. As long as we have each other...”

“Max... I never said I didn’t want...” Liz said growing exasperated. It was just as she’d feared. He was so set in his belief of what had gone wrong and that their marriage could be fixed, that he refused to see the ashes of it at his feet.. “I am begging you, Max... please hear me. I am home. My home is with Michael now. I love him. I love our life, but I need you to let me go.”

“You’re asking too much from me, Liz...” Max said weakly. “Everything I am is devoted to you. If I give you up...I already gave up my son... please... I’ll have nothing left.”

“Then there’s nothing left to talk about.” Liz said mournfully. She’d tried, but Max still refused to see the truth, or at the very least refused to acknowledge it for the pain it must bring him, “You aren’t going to sign those papers are you?”

Max shook his head numbly, “I can’t. I’m sorry. I know there’s something in you that still loves me...”

Liz felt the suffocation in the room that had made her leave him over a year earlier. She was struggling to breath inside and with nothing left to say to him, needed air, feeling the need to retreat. She turned to the kitchen’s bar and grabbed her purse off the counter heading for the door. Maybe she could catch up with Isabel, Kyle, Sweet and Miriam. Michael and Lexi would be okay without her for a few hours. Michael would understand and she took so much comfort in that faith.

“Walking away again?” Max asked.

“I don’t know what else to do when it comes to you, Max.” she answered him placing her hand on the door. She turned back to him, her lips drawn in a tight line across her teeth, “I don’t need your permission to be with Michael. You don’t have to like it, but its what’s happened. I don’t need you to sign those divorce papers to be with him. I need you to sign them to give yourself some closure. The world goes on whether you want it to or not..”

She opened the door taking one step outside, before stepping back in for a moment, her dark brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears, “I have to stop being your world, Max.”

Max opened his mouth to respond finding no words to counter Liz’s and watched her disappear out the door, once again stepping out of his life with what he saw as gentle ease.

Few minutes later, having heard the front door close, Michael emerged from the studio with a technicolor Lexi in tow. He saw Max leaning over the dining room table his head hung in agony. The smile on Lexi’s face disappeared as she felt her Uncle Max’s choking sadness and she reached out gripping Michael’s leg for comfort. She’d seen her Uncle Max sad before, but never so much so that it made her want to cry.

Michael ran an absent hand through Lexi’s hair in an unconscious effort to soothe the child. He cleared his throat getting Max’s attention without startling the shattered man.

“Where’s Auntie?” Lexi asked softly, watching Max wipe the tears off his face roughly.

“Um... out... I uh...we...” Max stammered.

“She probably just wanted to catch up with your mom and dad.” Michael covered. “Sweet’s tours are legendary.” Michael knew Liz was upset, a conversation with Max of this magnitude was bound to be emotionally draining and that she needed to get away. Take the stifling tension out of the house. They’s talk later, like they always did. His heart broke a bit for his brother with the knowledge that he, Michael, could let Liz go and know she’d come back home to him whereas Max no longer had that luxury.

“Okay.” Lexi nodded, believing wholly in Grumpy’s explanation.

Michael watched Max, shuffle from foot to foot, seemingly restless and confined. His head snapped away quickly from the Dangerous painting a new dam of tears building in his eyes.
Max was going to snap if he didn’t get out of what had become something of a shrine of the love that Michael and Liz had built. The bottom was approaching hard and fast for Max. Sometimes Michael hated to be right.

“Hey Lex.” Michael said kneeling down to chat with his niece, “How would you like to go to the park with me and your Uncle Max? Jungle gym, monkey bars, swings... all in December.”

Lexi smiled brightly, nodding almost violently, but then looked down at her painted skin and stained jeans, “But Mommy have fit if I go like dis.”

Michael smiled, “Well Auntie would kill me if I went out looking like this. So, we’ll get cleaned up and go, okay?”

Michael looked over at Max, who almost seemed to breath a sigh of relief and watched him nod along with his idea. Michael was unsure if or what there was left to say to one another, but whatever it was had to be now and they needed to distract Lexi in the process.

~*~

Forty-five minutes later Michael and Max were seated on the park bench at the edge of the play ground, watching Lexi climb through tunnels and whisk herself down slides, squealing with glee at the rush. The walk to the park had been silent, with Lexi latching herself onto both men’s hands, howling excitedly when they’d swing her in the air.

“I’m not going to apologize for being with Liz.” Michael finally said, staring straight ahead at Lexi, waving to her and smiling as she ran across the miniature wooden bridge.

“I don’t expect you to.” Max conceded, a bit to Michael’s surprise, and then let out a small chuckle, “Truth is I’m not even mad at you. I mean, at first I was, but now... I can’t blame you for loving her. Now you see why I did.”

Michael sighed, “No. I don’t, Max. You loved a different Liz. I love this one. They are different people. The Liz who married you... we never would have worked. I never gave her a second thought.”

“But you did.” Max argued lightly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be with her now.”

Michael ran a hand through his hair, trying to find words. It was so much easier when he could paint how he felt. Michael was far more intelligent than most people gave him credit, but even he admitted words tended to abandon him.

“The woman who walked into my... our bar in July... That wasn’t the girl I left behind. I admit, that part of me felt something for her all those years ago. I think it was part of the reason I left. I couldn’t watch someone with her potential for... I couldn’t watch her waste away trying to please you because of the vows you took, when it was clear she’d already begun to lose faith in them.”

“And who was it that walked into your bar in July?” Max asked genuinely curious, “She seems like the same woman to me.”

“To be fair Max, you haven’t really been around Liz that much since you got here.” Michael pointed out.

Max shook his head, “She won’t let me get near her. How can I if she won’t let me be...”

“That’s because you want to be close to her like you were, Max. Like her husband. And if that’s the case, she’s not the only one with a problem with it.” Michael answered plainly, his voice even, but full of warning.

“Playing the jealous boyfriend now?” Max quipped.

“Protective.” Michael corrected curtly, “Jealousy might suggest I’m worried that you might actually get her back.”

“Why aren’t you?” Max asked, a bit taken aback by Michael’s unwavering confidence in his relationship with Liz.

“Because of the woman found Ulysses.” Michael stated simply. Seeing the confusion etched on Max’s face he sat forward on his elbows to explain, “You want to know why Liz is so different from when she left you? Here? Now? She’s happy. I left five years ago, Max and even then she was unhappy, but when she walked into the bar...Damn...she smiled. When is the last time you saw her do that with you before she left?”

Max looked away, unable to answer Michael, because he couldn’t remember himself. All he knew was that the first time he saw Liz smile in their time apart, that smile was aimed at Michael. “At least that much about her hasn’t changed.”

“Finally something I can agree with you on.” Michael nodded with smirk and then watched Lexi help dust off another toddler who’d fallen in the gravel. “She gave up a lot to be with you, Man... and to be honest I just don’t think you made it worth it. Maybe she expected too much from you too... I don’t really know.

“I just know that in once she got shot, her life was not her own anymore. She started living for everyone else. Making sure we all stayed safe and happy. But once things settled down...after we ran. I think reality hit Liz and she regretted some of the sacrifices she made for you. Whatever she did in that year between leaving you and stumbling across me, she found herself. She lives for herself.”

“And you.” Max added.

“No she doesn’t Max.” Michael countered quickly, “ I’m a part of her life. A big part. But I’m not her world. I don’t need to be. That’s the difference between you and I, Maxwell, and ultimately its one of the reasons, she’ll stay with me.”

“Enlighten me.” Max waved him on.

“You need her too much. I just want her.”Michael stated, “It’d kill me if Liz left me. Believe me I understand what you must be feeling, but the difference between you and I is that I know I would go on living when the sun came up the next day. And while I’d miss the hell out of her, I’d continue to live. I want Liz in my life, but I can’t and won’t demand that she be. That’s too much dependance on one soul, Max. Even on one as strong as Liz’s. Simply put. I love her enough to give Liz her space, let go if I had to. Can you say that?”

Max clenched his jaw, Michael’s words seemingly echoing Liz’s only a few hours earlier. It seemed Michael truly did know this woman’s heart, for she was now a mystery to Max. An enigma, one he wasn’t sure he should be searching for anymore. One he was not meant to know on an intimate level, for she was Michael’s.

“She really wants me to sign those papers.” Max stated, beginning something of a fishing expedition.

“Yeah she does.” Michael answered. Even after five years he could still read his brother like a book. He knew what Max was getting at. “But whether you do or not it won’t affect my relationship with her.”

“You mean you don’t want to marry her?” Max asked, confused.

Michael smiled, chuckling softly, “I’d marry Liz tomorrow if that’s what she wanted. She knows that, but we’re happy with the way things are right now. We don’t need a piece of paper to tell us how we feel or what we mean to each other. She’s my family.”

“Seems that family has grown a lot since you left.” Max said, biting back his tears. Holding onto that marriage license was nearly his last physical vestige of his love with Liz and to she and Michael, it wasn’t obstacle enough to part. “Sweet. Miriam...”

“Yeah, now Liz.” Michael pointed out, realizing how right it all sounded. He had a family. Small, but full of love.

They both sat in companionable silence, having said what needed to be. Michael felt for the first time in a long time, Max was really listening to him or he was at the very least doing a fair impression of it. The two men sat on the bench and watched their niece charm every child on the playground gathering them all together for game, even the bigger kids seemed enamored by the tiny girl.

Both Max and Michael felt a hand clamp down on their shoulders and they both stood bolt upright to face the person, Michael cursing himself slightly for letting anyone sneak up on him. They were meant with a panting Kyle, losing more breath from the laughter consuming his lungs.

“Dammit Kyle!” Max growled, “D-don’t sneak up on us like that.”

“You know just because you are the actual size of mouse doesn’t mean you actually have to creep around like one.” Michael added, trying to seem serious, but like Lexi, Kyle’s laughter was contagious. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on tour with Pop, Mir and oh yeah... you’re wife?”

“Would be.” Kyle answered catching his breath, “Should be. But said wife ordered me to find you three when Liz caught up to us at the bakery. Now, while I have complete faith in your ability to care for my daughter and hammer out the mountain of issues that you have, both being in love with Liz and all. But your sister doesn’t quite hold the same belief.”

Michael and Max shared a look between each other, rolling their eyes at Isabel’s paranoia, “So,” Kyle continued, “... under threat of cut off carnal activity, I raced my fine ass back to the bar, saw your note and came here. And now that I see that you are not only bruise, but blood free... and my child is up to her Playground Nazi antics... I’m going to sit down before I pass out.”

As Kyle slumped down on the bench Michael started laughing, “You know, a simple, ‘I’m my wife’s whipping boy.’ would have sufficed, Frodo.”

Kyle glared up at his burly friend, “You know if you weren’t dead right, I’d kick your ass, Bigfoot.”

Lexi, having spotted her father when he slumped onto the bench quickly forgot her playground companions and made a mad dash for her favorite man, hopping up on his lap, “What doing, Daddy? Where Mommy?”

“Mommy is with Auntie, Sweet and Miriam. I am here to make sure you’re uncles take care of you.” Kyle explained to his little angel.

“We good.” Lexi said smiling up at her uncles, “Cept...”

“Except what Lexi?” Kyle asked, watching her brow furrow in thought.

“Cept dey whisper lot. Are dey fightin’?” she asked her dad.

Michael shook his head at her and smiled, “We aren’t fighting Lex. We just have grown-up stuff to talk about. That’s all. And contrary to your belief, you do not need to know everything.”

“Den why Unca Max so sad?” Lexi asked looking up at her dark haired uncle.

Kyle knew his daughter needed a simple answer and while Michael’s earlier words were true, they would only add to Lexi’s burgeoning curiosity. He tipped his daughter’s face towards him holding her innocent eyes with his warm ones.

“See, Little Miss, Uncle Max and Uncle Grumpy are sorta in a contest.” he put it in the simplest of terms.

Lexi nodded her understanding, “See who Auntie Liz wuv best.”

Kyle looked between the two alien men in front of him and then back at his daughter, “Um, yeah kiddo, that’s pretty much it.”

Lexi paused in thought, mulling over the information her father had bestowed upon her, “Well dat’s easy, Daddy. Auntie loves Grumpy best.”

Kyle chuckled, but saw Max hang his head at the notion that even a small child could see the love Liz had for Michael, “You sound pretty sure about that, Sprite.”

“Uh huh.” Lexi stated a big grin coming over her face as she looked up at Michael, “Auntie’s baby loves Grumpy best too.”

~*~

TBC...

[Guest]

Chapter 15

Michael, Max and Kyle all wore a look of stunned shock. Surely Lexi was mistaken... Or they’d all misheard her?

“A-Auntie’s... b-baby?” Max stammered, repeating Lexi’s words as if to receive verbal confirmation from Michael and Kyle that they had also heard the little girl utter those words.

Lexi nodded, her grin slowly fading as she looked between her father and two uncles. They didn’t look happy. Babies were happy things. They looked surprised, like Mommy had at her birthday party. Her gaze shifted to her Uncle Grumpy, who seemed completely stunned; she could almost hear the pounding of his heart. He didn’t know? But he was the baby’s daddy, she’d felt it.

Kyle’s nervous laughter broke the silence, “Uh, sweetie... is this a pretend baby... and imaginary one. I mean, you’ve been bugging your Mommy and I to bring you home a baby brother or sister...and I know you’d love a cousin...” His eyes widened, maybe it wasn’t Liz’s baby she’d felt. Maybe Isabel was... “Lexi? Are you sure its Auntie’s baby... I mean could Mommy be...?”

Lexi shook her head, rolling her eyes at her father, “Real baby, Daddy. I no ‘magine. It Auntie’s, I feel it.”

Michael felt his hands trembling slightly as he knelt down to Lexi’s level, resting on his haunches. All the color had drained from his face and his mouth suddenly felt as dry as the New Mexico desert he’d hatched in. He tried to push his thundering heart from his ears, wanting to hear every word or crumb of information his niece might have. Surely she was mistaken, he and Liz had been so careful...

“Lexi?” His voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper, “Did you dream about the baby? I know that dreams can seem real sometimes, but...”

Lexi smiled at her pale uncle, “No Unca. It not dream baby. Baby in Auntie’s tummy.” she scrunched up her face, squinting her eyes as she brought her hands together with in an inch of touching. “Bery small. But it start in her heart. Yours too Grumpy.”

“What?” Michael asked confused by Lexi’s words. He looked to Kyle for help and saw recognition pass over his friend’s face.

“Uh...” Kyle scratched his head, smiling softly as he leaned down slightly to place a gentle kiss on his daughter’s temple, “When Lexi asked Is and I where babies come from, we uh... told her that when two people love each other, sometimes there’s so much love that a new life is born in their hearts and grows in a mommy’s tummy.”

Lexi nodded emphatically at her daddy’s explanation, “Auntie love Grumpy and Grumpy love Auntie. So...” she provided dryly, barely able to believe she was having to spell things out for three grown men.

“So... there is so much love that ...” Michael trailed off breathlessly. He lost his already precarious balance falling backwards with a soft thud onto the grass, his eyes wide with discovery, “Holy. Shit. I’m going to be a...dad.”

Lexi’s brow furrowed at her uncle, “Grumpy! You no cuss.” she scolded, “Dat’s potty talk.”

Kyle let out another chuckle, rubbing his daughters back, “Grumpy gets a free pass on this one, Lexi girl. I said the same thing when I found out I was going to be your daddy.”

Lexi wasn’t convinced. She couldn’t believe her mommy would let her daddy get away with cussing, but seeing the bewildered expression on Michael’s face she relented. She hopped off her dad’s lap and stood before Michael with her hands on her hips, staring down at him.

“Okay. Free pass, Grumpy. But you be careful. Baby can hear you.”

Michael nodded numbly at the little girl, letting her wrap her little arms around his neck in congratulations. A thousand different emotions assaulted Michael’s heart and he couldn’t pin one down if he tried. He was going to be a father. A father! They’d never actually discussed having kids together and Michael had been resolved, happy with the family he had. But adding a whole new life? Something half his and half hers? As scared as he was at how Liz might feel about this, Michael couldn’t help the feeling of rightness that settled in his heart.

Max remained standing, trying to process the information Lexi had just bestowed on them, barely able to believe what he’d heard and somehow knew to be true. Liz was pregnant. The same woman who’d told him a year prior that she’d never be ready to have children was, at that moment, carrying Michael’s child within her.

Why hadn’t she said anything during their conversation that morning, or even when they’d all arrived? During every word she’d uttered to him about the dissolving of their marriage, a child, that was not his, was taking shape inside her. She had to know that this information, the baby, could be enough to get him to back away, and yet she didn’t use it? Why?

As Max looked down at Michael, it was clear that he had no clue about Liz’s pregnancy. That he along with Max and Kyle were just made aware of it. Was it possible that Liz wasn’t yet aware of the baby, being human, changed, but possible not as in tune with... But she was changed... and the baby was at least half alien...

“Lex?” Max asked kneeling down to the ground next to his niece and Michael. She lifted her head from Michael’s neck to face her other uncle, “Does Auntie know about the baby in her tummy?”

“Uh huh.” Lexi replied, her nod brushing her cheek against Michael’s. And therein Max had his answer. Liz wanted Michael to know first. Of course she wouldn’t want her ex-husband to know about her pregnancy before the baby’s father did. That wasn’t the type of person Liz was.

Lexi turned back to look in Michael’s eyes, searching and coming up confused, “Grumpy? You daddy... You not feel da baby?”

Michael shook his head, “N-No... How did you...I mean...when...?”

“Wast night. I sit on Auntie’s wap. Felt baby den.” she answered, still seeing confusion in her uncle’s eyes. She couldn’t believe he didn’t know about the baby.

“I thought she’d be too young.” Max said looking from Lexi to Kyle, “But if she felt the baby...”

“Then Isabel sure as hell did too.” Kyle finished, wondering why his wife hadn’t shared this information with him last night.

“Isabel?” Michael asked furrowing his brow, “Isabel knows too?” He looked between Max and Kyle, “Does someone want to tell me how my sister and my niece knew about ...m-my child, before I did?”

“It’s a chick thing.” Kyle said plainly, “Apparently the women of your... species... are more in tune with their bodies and that of other women, like them. Liz being changed, Isabel must have sensed the baby the second we walked in the door yesterday.” Kyle sighed, “It stands to reason anyway. Liz knew Isabel was pregnant with Lexi before Max or I did.”

“We thought that Lexi might be too young,” Max added, “Or that her senses might be muted being only half alien, but...”

“Apparently not.” Michael finished giving his niece a gentle squeeze, “But I’m the father... How is it I didn’t know?”

“Well from my experience,” Kyle explained, “The most in tune we men get with our bodies, is getting the perfect pitch on a fart.” Lexi giggled hysterically at her father, but he kept going, “So being in tune with our respective mate’s body is even less likely. If Lexi’s right, and the baby is small, you’d have to actively look for it, at least this early on. Later, as the baby grows, you’ll be able to feel the same thing Lexi and Isabel do. You’ll be able to connect with him or her, like Liz, at around four months.”

Michael absorbed the information, but it only created more questions, “I still don’t understand how Isabel and Lexi can connect with the baby...”

“They can’t connect with it.” Max corrected, momentarily pushing aside his shattered heart to inform his brother about what was going on between the three women, “Only Liz can do that. What Isabel and Lexi feel, at least at this point, is it’s essence...” Max taxed his brain for a better explanation, “Kinda like feeling another presence in the room, but not being able to see it.”

Michael nodded his understanding, then looked at Lexi, “But how do you know the baby loves me?”

“Baby hear you voice, Grumpy.” Lexi provided, “Know you wuv Auntie and dat you voice is daddy voice. Dat’s why you no cuss.”

Michael let out a shaky breath and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, that he’d been keeping at bay. He wasn’t sure he should be happy, not entirely sure how Liz felt about their new development, but he could help the elation that filled his heart. Since Liz had walked back into his life, Michael, a man with seemingly very few labels, artist, business owner, alien, loner, had suddenly possessed so many more. Friend, lover, boyfriend... She’d helped him realize he was indeed a son complete with two doting parents and now she was giving him the title of father... creator of life. Jesus, that was humbling. The benefits of loving Liz and having her love in return was staggering.

“Well, I guess we know what Grumpy’s getting for Christmas.” Kyle mused, realizing Liz must have been waiting to give Michael the ultimate gift, a new life.

Michael might have been inclined to agree, but he needed to be sure Liz was okay with their new development. She had plans and dreams still yet to achieve. As thrilled as he was at the prospect of becoming a parent, a feeling he didn’t realize he possessed, a baby would throw a major bump into those plans. She’d have to miss out on school, something she’d just gotten back into. She’d once again have to put off her dreams to care for their child. Would she resent him, if things would be irrevocably changed? How could they not be?

He was torn away from his thoughts when Lexi let go of his neck and stepped back sniffling. She buried her face in her hands and her little shoulders shook. She was crying. Kyle saw it too and slid down from the bench to his daughter’s side.

“Alexis?” Kyle asked gently, “What’s wrong?”

Lexi brought her hands down from her face, her tears streaming down her cheeks and her face contorted in near agony. She opened her eyes to gaze upon Michael’s worried face and a sob escaped her lips, followed by another until it was uncontrollable. She turned around, launching herself into Kyle’s arms and weeping convulsively.

Kyle rubbed her back trying to soothe the mysterious pain that weighed on his tiny daughter’s heart, “Shhhh... Lexi...honey what’s wrong...tell us...”

Lexi took her face away from her father’s shoulder and turned so she stood sideways between Michael and Kyle, he breath uneven and coming out in sobs, “I-I..n-not know b-baby w-was... secret, Daddy. N-Nobody t-told m-me.” she looked over at Michael, new tears following the track of the old ones, “I r-ruin y-you p-present from Auntie. I n-not know.”

Michael smiled at Lexi, wiping away her tears, immediately forgetting any of his own worries about what the baby meant for he and Liz, focusing on consoling the tearful toddler. He wrapped his arms around her, willing her little body to stop trembling with her tears.

“Hey,” He whispered into her hair, “Its okay Lexi. You didn’t ruin anything. You didn’t know it was a surprise.” He pulled her off his neck and held her shoulders, “I bet Auntie didn’t even know you could feel the baby.”

Lexi sniffled loudly, her breathing slowing down, with Michael’s words of comfort, “But I spoil it, Grumpy. Auntie be sooo mad...”

“Auntie could never be mad at you, Lexi. She loves you so much, I don’t think she knows how to be mad at you.” Max reassured her, earning a grateful glance from both Michael and Kyle. They knew Liz’s pregnancy would be the final devastating blow to Max’s ego and for the moment he’d put it aside for the sake of his niece.

Michael pushed himself off the ground taking a moment to get his bearings. Kyle dare not ask Michael about the myriad of emotions that danced on his friend’s face. Asking him to pick one would be too much. Kyle picked his daughter up off the ground and watch Michael run a large hand over his face and through his hair.

“I gotta find Liz.” Michael finally said. He wasn’t going to get any answers standing in the park and the nagging questions had only one source of enlightenment, Liz.

He began to stride off, unsure of his direction, but focused on his goal, when he felt an arm reach out stopping him. He turned and saw Max, pain in his eyes, but not anger. Why was he stopping him?

“Max...I know this hurts, but I need to find her...” Michael sighed.

“I’m not stopping you, Michael.” Max looked at his hand gripping Michael’s forearm, “Well, okay I am, but not for the reason you think.” When Michael nodded, asking him to continue, Max released his brother’s arm and sighed, “You don’t know where Liz is right now...”

“Max, I know this town like I know every curve on Liz’s... like the back of my hand. I can find her.” Michael interrupted.

“I know that, Michael, but its clear to me you need to gather your thoughts. And you can’t just bum rush Liz with all your questions. Believe me I know.” Max explained, “Let’s just go back to Ulysses and wait for them to come back. Calm down a bit.”

Kyle’s jaw nearly hit the ground, “I know a baby changes your life, Max, but it’s usually the parents of the child that experience the change.”

“Yeah, well this child is bit different isn’t it?” Max pointed out. Kyle couldn’t help but agree with Max and for the first time since they’d arrived in New Orleans, actually held out hope for his brother-in -law, that he’d make it out of town with his broken soul still, somewhat, intact.


Michael took in Max’s words and found the logic in them. If he found Liz now, he would be in danger of causing a scene, stumbling over questions and wrestling with the emotions that he could feel coursing through his body. He was certain Liz hadn’t wanted the knowledge of her...their, pregnancy come out this way. He felt himself nodding his head at Max then looked over at Kyle, the two men sharing a smirk.

“What?” Max asked as the foursome made their way back to the bar.

Michael waved his hand at Kyle, deferring to his friend on this particular point. Kyle slapped Max on the back, “You do realize the irony of you doling out good advice on giving Liz space don’t you?”

Max stopped in his tracks staring blankly ahead at the trio. Kyle’s words striking a nerve he hadn’t counted on. How many times had Kyle, Isabel or Michael, hell even Liz used the word “suffocating” to describe his love for her? Max didn’t ask for an epiphany for Christmas, but it seems they were coming at him in spades.

~*~

Miriam, Sweet, Liz and Isabel stopped in at Sweet’s favorite café for lunch. Sweet and Miriam stole away for a moment to chat with the owner, giving Liz and Isabel their first real moment alone since Mrs. James arrival into New Orleans.

Isabel didn’t press Liz when she joined them earlier, knowing from the tear tracks on her face that her talk with Max had been far from successful. And while Isabel was curious as to what was said, or done, she had something far more pressing to discuss with Liz.

Isabel looked over at Liz, her lips hovering over her glass of lemonade, “So, I’m guessing there’s a reason you haven’t told Michael about the baby yet.” she said casually before taking a sip from her glass.

Liz’s eyes widened slightly, and then her shoulders slumped, “I shoulda known you had that sixth sense too.” she sighed.

“Haley Joel Osmet can see dead people. We, of the female alien persuasion, see babies. Personally I’m grateful.” Isabel chuckled and then placed a hand over Liz’s, “Seriously. Why haven’t you told Michael?”

Liz quirked an eyebrow at her sister-in-in law, “You’re so sure he doesn’t know?”

Isabel rolled her eyes, “Please. I know my brother, even five years separated. If he knew about the baby he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. Glee is not an emotion I’ve even seen that boy show...ever, and he would...will, when he finds out. At the moment, he’s clueless. Its endearing, but doesn’t suit him for long. Now tell me why, pronto.”

Liz chuckled at Isbael, “And you wonder where Lexi gets her bossy streak?”

Isabel narrowed her eyes at Liz, “Don’t change the subject.” her face softened a bit, “Do you want the baby?”

Liz brought her hand to her heart and tears filled her eyes instantly, “Of course I do, Isabel. I mean...Michael and I weren’t exactly planning on it, but...” she couldn’t contain her smile, “... I just wanted to wait for Christmas is all. I want Michael to know I’m happy about it. That it’s a gift, because I know how worried he’ll be.”

Isabel rolled her eyes, “Worried, is an understatement dear sister” she let out a small laugh, “And here we all thought you just never wanted kids.”

Liz’s smile dropped, “Is that what everyone thinks?” she asked insistently, “Max said the same thing to me today when we... talked.”

Isabel put her drink down, “Well, Liz, you said it yourself, you didn’t plan this and you made it pretty clear you didn’t want to have kids...”

“With him, Isabel.” Liz clarified, “I didn’t want to have kids with Max. At least not amongst the rubble that was our marriage. Or to replace the son he’d given up. I never said I didn’t want kids.”

“Oh,” Isabel bit at her bottom lips, “Does Michael know this?”

“I assumed...” Liz stammered, “But then again, we never really discussed it. I knew that Michael would love to have kids, but he’s never put any pressure on me to give him a timeline. He...”

“He’s too busy making sure you live your dreams.” Isabel finished with a nod, “I take it back, worried is a woefully inadequate word. Frantic might better describe his reaction.”

Liz put her head in her hands, “You know, I wasn’t worried about his reaction until just now. Maybe I should just tell him tonight when we’re alone, instead of tomorrow morning.”

“I’m sorry, Liz.” Isabel said rubbing the worried girl’s back, “But yeah maybe you should. I’m sure once you explain that you’re happy about the baby, Michael will relax... then completely explode with excitement. You are happy about this right?”

Liz took her face out of her hands, a large smile and tears of joy shimmering in her eyes, “How did you feel when you found out you were pregnant with Lexi?”

“Scared...” Isabel said wistfully, “But so happy.”

Liz nodded, “Me too. I mean I admit to initially feeling that fear, but I just...don’t know how to put it in words...”

Isabel leaned over and hugged her sister, “I know exactly what you mean.” Her own tears spilled onto Liz’s shoulder. When she pulled back she wiped her eyes, “Michael is going to be a father.... its utterly God damn perfect.”

“I know.” Liz said, unable to contain her pride.

“Assuming my other brother removes his head from his ass long enough to sign those divorce papers, is Michael going to make an honest woman out of you?” Isabel asked, in an almost parental tone.

“Oh, I just know that’s what my dad is gonna sound like when I tell him” Liz sighed nervously, “But I don’t think so, Is. I mean I don’t need Michael to marry me to live honestly. Do you understand?”

“Marriage to Max really jaded you that much?” Isabel asked directly.

Liz stiffened a bit at Isabel’s suggestion, “I won’t lie, that it has something to do with it. That’s my baggage. Michael’s all for getting married and he doesn’t even know about the baby, I just feel like I don’t know... we’re beyond that. That doesn’t mean I think less of anyone who is married...”

“Kyle and I appreciate it.” Isabel winked at her, “But I understand. Free thinkers. Bit of the bohemian. Goes with the artist lifestyle.”

“Is...” Liz whined.

Isabel smirked, patted Liz’s hand. She knew exactly what Liz was saying, but couldn’t help, but tease her friend, just a little.“Now, how have you managed to hide it from him?” She asked changing the subject. “I mean, Michael doesn’t notice every little thing, but...”

“Well,” Liz straightened up, “Thankfully the morning sickness hasn’t started yet...Don’t think I could just pass that off as the flu.”

Isabel’s face sunk, “Give it another month.”

“I remember.” Liz said mournfully, remembering the days when she would take care of Isabel while Kyle was at work. The third month of the alien woman’s pregnancy had consisted of endless trips to the bathroom, but after the month had ended, Isabel had been fine. They figured it was a phase of her half alien pregnancy that her human body needed to experience in order to adjust to the new onslaught of hormones Lexi had provided her with.

“As for the other stuff, “ Liz continued, “Unless he was actively looking for the baby, Michael can’t feel it yet. I’ve been drinking my orange juice and taking my vitamins, but that’s not unusual, Michael sees me doing that all the time. Even got him to start taking them.”

“Now that’s a miracle. He never saw the point in them if we never got sick.” Isabel said, remembering all the times she’d leave him a bottle of vitamins at his apartment or in his room, only to find them in his wastebasket the next day.

Liz let out a chuckle, “Well, contrary to your superhuman status, age will catch up with you three just like the rest of us and Michael was finding that out the hard way, so I slipped him a multivitamin one morning and he had never had a more productive day.”

“But of course he never admitted that to you.” Isabel chuckled.

Liz shook her head, “Of course not. Michael has evolved over the past years, Is, but he’s still Michael. Admitting he was wrong, never comes easy. Instead he just silently takes what I leave out for him in the morning and glares at me.”

“And there are many facets to the Guerin glare.” Isabel laughed.

“Don’t I know it.” Liz feigned exhaustion, “Oh and just a warning, ginseng... like alien Viagra.”

Isabel’s eyes widened, “Warning? Dammit Liz you’ve been holding out on me.” she snickered, “Find that out the hard way did you?”

“Ugh! Isabel!” Liz rolled her eyes, “You are starting to adopt your husband’s sense of humor. Its all downhill from here.”

“I’ve accepted it and am adapting.”Isabel said in mock haughtiness, and then furrowed her brow, “What about coffee? I mean if I remember anything from when you and Michael were still living with us, it was that you two would have had the coffee intravenously if you could...”

“Ahhh...” Liz raised an eyebrow and sat up studiously, “That has been a particularly fun experiment.”

“Ever the scientist.” Isabel shook her head.

“I switched us to decaf when I found out I was pregnant. Michael hasn’t noticed at all.” she said proudly, “Thus proving that he doesn’t need coffee to wake up in the morning. Is all in his head, a crutch.”

“Might want to keep that information to yourself, Liz. Michael finds out you’ve been messing with his coffee and there will be hell to pay.”

Liz laughed, “I said it was a crutch, Isabel. Mine. I’m not stupid.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t see how perfect you were for him sooner.” Isabel observed with amusement.

Liz’s face fell a bit, “ But I wasn’t perfect for Michael, Is. At least not back then. But now...”

“Now is all that matters.” Isabel supplied with a genuine smile, biting her lip, “I didn’t ask you about Max earlier... but... I mean, did you tell him about the baby?”

Liz shook her head, clenching her fist a bit at the memory of Max’s insistence that they could rebuild their marriage. It had been so very tempting to scream it from the rooftops that she could never go back with him because she was carrying his brother’s child. It had been part of the reason she left the apartment. It would have been information given in spite. And she was not about to use her baby that way.

“Why?” Isabel asked a little shocked, “If anything was going to get Max to finally let go, it would be knowing that you were having a baby with Michael.”

Liz sighed heavily, “Because Michael needs to know first. Imagine how hurt he’d be if Max knew before he did. He’s the other half of this child, the father. He deserves to know before Max does.” She saw understanding pass over Isabel’s face, but a bit of reluctance, “Think about it this way Is: How would Kyle have reacted if when you found out about Lexi, you called up Jesse before telling him?”

Isabel grimaced, “Point taken. But I still think, at least after you talk to Michael tonight, that you should tell Max.”

“I will.” Liz agreed, “I just didn’t want this baby to be the reason he finally lets go, Is. Max needs to come to that on his own. I told him that I have to stop being his world, he stopped being mine a long time ago. Now I’m afraid he’ll just blame Michael... and this baby.”

Isabel squeezed Liz’s hand, “That’s Max’s cross to bear Liz. Your job now is to take it easy. That baby is feeling everything you are, remember?”

Liz gave a small smile, “I know, Is. From now on I’ll just concentrate on how I’m going to con Michael into changing at least half of the diapers.”

Isabel laughed and then saw Sweet and Miriam making their way back to the table, “Liz if you accomplish that...I’m nominating you for God. ‘Bout time we had a woman in that office don’t ya think?”

~*~

The hours ticked by in the bar and the silence was deafening. When they all returned from the park Kyle put Lexi down for a much needed nap up in the apartment, while Michael and Max remained downstairs in the bar, separately ruminating on the new life altering course their lives had taken.

Max sat on the stage his head hung low, deep in concentration. The emotional turmoil he’d been through in the past two days were catching up to him, and this latest development blew things wide open. Every sage bit of advice or harsh reality was now set before his eyes and the blinders were being ripped off. Every hold he thought he had on Liz had slipped through his fingers.

Max had initially let himself believe that despite meeting on Michael’s turf, New Orleans, and that Liz shared ,at the very least a sexual, relationship with Michael, that his marriage to her, their vows would be his trump card so to speak. He’d hoped that any time spent with his wife would remind that they’d promised for better or worse, that at one time they’d made a promise to love each other no matter what, with their “family” as witnesses. That Michael couldn’t deny that tie between he and Liz, and would back away out of respect.

But all of that came crashing down with little Lexi’s information. What is they say?From the mouths of babes... Comes what? Devastation? Wisdom? Honesty? Or all of those things? Max’s heart had spiraled into a new pain that he didn’t know was possible. Liz was having a baby, with Michael. They created a life together. A little being that was half of her and half of Michael. Someone who would carry Michael’s name, not his. He could never hope to compete with that.

Max began to wonder if Liz felt half the pain he did now, when he’d told her about Tess. About their son. That he had gone to another woman, her rival and engaged in a sexual dalliance that led to the conception of his son. As much as Max regretted that it was Tess he’d had his child with, he’d never regret Zan. And he found that as much as he hated Tess for things she’d done to conceive Zan, he was irrevocably bonded to her, through their mutual parentage.

Liz had said she’d gotten over Tess a long time ago, but Max never truly had. Maybe he’d overcompensated in trying to make amends with Liz. Tried to make things perfect, despite their lives on the run. But it was his idea of perfect and somehow it had led him to here, New Orleans, his wife in love with another man, his brother and now, irrevocably bonded to Michael with the conception of their child.

Max shook his head. Liz was right. He didn’t listen. A lot. And it cost him everything. Liz never said she didn’t want children. She just didn’t want them with him.

Epiphanies. Max always thought they came with some sort of grand sense of enlightenment. That once he had one or even a few, that he would feel better, more whole. These series of home truths offered him no such comfort nor did they give him a soft landing as he realized the bottom had been struck and even the shell of who he thought he was had been shattered on impact.

Where was he to go from here? How does one simply let go of the love of his life? His anchor? His world, and learn how to breathe, feel, trust again? He didn’t have answers to any of those questions and he felt more lost than when he’d arrived. Liz had been his compass and now he felt stranded. Letting go of Liz was supposed to provide clarity wasn’t it?

Max still had a lot of soul searching to do and with half of his soul gone he knew that would not be an easy task. There would be no easy answers and he, for the time being, had to alone. It seemed that the various members of his “family” had taken journeys to self discovery and come out better for it. Maybe it was time for him to take a similar journey.

Michael sat quietly, in apparent introspection, at one of the tables staring down at the black lacquered surface and drawing invisible sketches with his fingers. The stillness in his figure, belying the near deafening noise in his head.

Why hadn’t Liz told him? Could it be like Kyle said? She was waiting for Christmas? It couldn’t be that simple could it. Granted, simplicity was an ongoing theme in his relationship with Liz, but a baby...well that could complicate things. Wonderfully complicated.

Was she worried about his reaction, or was she still trying to come to terms with it herself? Did carrying this baby change how she felt about having children or was she angry with him and herself for being careless enough to let this happen?

And when the hell did it happen? The were always careful, kept protection everywhere. Hell, he had to locate all the stray condoms before their guests came, because he did not want not Lexi to find Unca’s water balloon stashes. He’d always been so stringent when it came to birth control, not wanting anything to impede on Liz’s dreams. And now one forgotten moment of passion threatened those dreams. Was he any better than Max, tying her down with a child? Would she see a difference?

Liz’s dreams. School. How would the baby effect her schedule? Would she have to drop out? If she missed out, would she want to continue? How far back would it set her? If he offered to take full charge of the baby would that ease her at all?

Take full charge? What the fuck did he know about babies? They were so... tiny. He’d fucking hatched and that qualified him for what? Toddler. He'd been a toddler, not helpless...Not as helpless. A baby. A baby couldn't run from fists or a belt. He'd run, he'd hidden, wasn't enough, and now? Now he was going to be a father? An alien father, a freak.

He'd been a paycheck, a punching bag, bus boy. Nothing that qualified him. Jesus, with Hank as a role model, no wonder Liz hadn't told him. Liz. Was she afraid? Afraid of him, what he'd be like? That he wouldn't be able to handle it? No, he had Sweet. Sweet had taught him what a father could be like...but Sweet hadn't raised him. Hank had. He didn't want to be Hank. He never wanted to be Hank.

"Grumpy okay?" Lexi asked in a soft whisper, her thumb rubbing the rough denim on his knee.

He felt his shoulders sag a bit. His niece trusted him. He could see the love in her eyes, wide and clear. Had felt it last night. Her little body snuggled against him, her fingers wrapped in a lock of his hair. She hadn't let go, didn't want to let go. God, but she was so tiny. How could she love him, trust him? He was big, clumsy, a product of Hank.

"No worry. You be good daddy." she whispered.

His throat closed tight, as she frowned up at him, “Shouldn’t you be asleep, Lex?”

Lexi shook her head, “Can’t sleep if you scared, Grumpy.”

He consciously unclenched his jaw to smile down at Lexi. She was the perfect blend: Isabel's elegance and Kyle's humor. But beautifully innocent...carefree. What would his child look like? Molasses hair? Amber eyes? Darker? Lighter? What if she was petite like her mother, curiosity and intelligence bubbling out? What was he gong to do when she started dating!? It could be a boy. A boy with his height, his eyes, but without the pain. No child of his would ever have the pain.

Guaranteed, boy or girl, that kid would be stubborn. Really stubborn. Genetically predispositioned, Liz would say. If the baby was a girl, he'd be strong, wouldn't give in, hold tough against pleading eyes. He had months to build up a wall...why didn't seem long enough? Maybe because he hadn't resisted Lexi and Liz yet. It could be a boy though. If the baby was a boy that stubbornness could lead to vio...He clenched his jaw again. Not violence, never violence. His son would not turn out like Hank. He hadn't turned out like Hank. .

Michael focused again on Lexi. He took a deep breath in. What if the baby had powers? Air caught in his lungs, choking. Lexi had powers, what if the baby got his. Would a tantrum blow up lights, melt toasters? Would they follow the course of his: erratic, unstable? His chest tightened, bore down on the oxygen within. Would it be a freak like him? An oddity, a screw-up, a danger? God, what if he hurt his own child?

He was a fuck-up, a freak. Hadn't Hank told him so? Hadn't Max? What if this pregnancy hurt Liz? What if he killed the very woman who'd made him whole? She was so petite, small. Isabel had been fine, but Liz...Liz was a human carrying an alien child, a possible death sentence. All because he'd screwed-up again. Literally. He couldn't lose her. Not like this. Why had he been so careless?

His lungs burned, heavy pulse pounding in his ears. He could barely feel the little hand anxiously patting his knee, trying to soothe away the fear, the worry. Liz could be in danger, the baby could be in danger. He focused his strained eyes over Lexi's shoulder towards the door. He couldn't look at her. A living example of a child he might never see, all because he was fucked up Michael Guerin. Freak. Possible Father. Total failure. No wonder Liz hadn't told him. How could she even bear to look at him? To be with hi-

"Hi, we're back." Her voice slid through the room, wrapped around his mind. Soothing, peaceful. Liz. His throat chose that moment to unclog, and he exhaled. One long breath, gone.

~*~

A moment before she’d step back into the bar with Isabel, Miriam and Sweet in tow, Liz had been laughing along with the group as Sweet recounted his first meeting with Michael to Isabel. She remembered the first time she’d heard the story and the omnipresent smirk on Michael’s face. Glares and smirks, both had many meanings in Michael’s world.

Isabel shook her head, “A Scotch Bonnet...child’s play...” She laughed.

“Yeah, to those of not a little green around the gills, darlin.” Miriam chuckled.

Liz pushed open the bars doors wiping her eyes with laughter, “Hi. We’re back.” she called out.

She scanned the room quickly, immediately seeking out Michael and found him seated at one of the tables, Lexi patting him on the leg gently. His head had shot up and for a moment he looked panicked, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Then with one great breath, he stilled. His breathing slowed and his body relaxed, his eyes locked with her own. She nearly shivered, not from what was in his eyes, but for what wasn’t. She couldn’t read him.

Sensing something was wrong by the quiet that had she had come upon in the bar, Liz approached Michael, seeing that he seemed to be the source of whatever tension had filled that room. It hadn’t been Kyle standing at the bar, or Max sitting up on the stage, or even Lexi seemingly perched by her Uncle Grumpy in watch.

“You guys didn’t have a wild time without us did you?” she asked with a nervous laugh, hoping to belie the fear she felt in not being able to read Michael’s countenance.

His normally expressive pools of amber were wide, not meeting her own, but focused on something...on her, as she continued her slow journey towards her seated beau. He seemed frozen in place his eyes locked on... what was he looking at?

Liz looked down at herself, looking for any sort of glaring stain she’d managed to miss from lunch and found nothing. She then caught the slight swell of her own breasts and shook her head. He goes one night without and his thoughts immediately go...

Liz’s breath caught when she realized the closer she got the more focused Michael’s eyes became, fixed on their position. He wasn’t staring at her breasts, but her... She brought up an unconscious hand to her abdomen and watched Michael finally blink. He couldn’t know could he?

She stopped a mere inches from his seated frame, his eyes had never left her stomach. She brought the hand that had been resting there up to Michael’s shoulder and slid it into his hair, silently asking him to look up at her, but was met with resistence.

“Michael?” she whispered softly, “What’s wr...”

Liz didn’t get to finish her thought as one of Michael’s hand came up from its place in his lap and lifted her shirt slightly, away from her tummy and he lay his palm on the still flat expanse. Oh God. He did know. But how?

She felt a slight warmth on her belly and she watched as the father of her child try to connect with their baby. It was still too small to hold anything with it’s daddy, but Liz saw a slight smile tug at the corners of Michael’s mouth as he continued to keep his gaze on her tummy.. Had he felt something? Perhaps the baby’s love for him? The trust it already had? Or had Michael simply felt her own feelings projected?

“Michael...” Liz said softly, gaining his attention.

Michael’s smile disappeared and he shifted his gaze lower, to her feet. It was as if he was afraid to look at her. Afraid to show her how he felt. Or maybe he was, as Isabel had theorized, frantic, but unwilling to show her how much.

Liz felt his fingers rubbing small circles on her stomach and she wondered whom Michael was trying to soothe, himself or their baby. She tipped his head up to meet hers and found his eyes shut tightly.

“Michael... please...” she pleaded.

Michael, keeping his hand firmly in place on Liz’s belly, rose from his seat, finally opening his eyes when he’d reached his full height and stared down at her. Liz almost let out a breath of relief at the first emotion she saw passing through his eyes. Wonder. Awe. Humility.

“Are you...?” he finally managed to speak, his voice graveled with emotion.

“Yes.” Liz nodded, “But how did you...?”

“Lexi knew.” Michael answered.

Liz glanced down at her niece, who like Michael only moments earlier stared down at her feet, almost as if in shame. “Lexi? But...”

“Early power development.” Michael supplied.

Liz’s eyes widened, “How is that we didn’t know she...”

“Off the subject, Liz.” Michael interrupted, his voice softened causing her to return to his intense gaze, “So you’re really...”

“Again.” Liz answered with a slight smile, as she placed her hand over Michael’s on her stomach, “Yes I am.”

“But when?” he scratched an eyebrow with his fee hand, “We’re always so caref...”

“Memphis.” Liz provided, raising an amused eyebrow at him.

She watched his brow furrow in confusion and it was almost as if she could read his very thoughts with every twitched muscle in his face and the scratching of his eyebrow as though he were trying to work out the ultimate mystery.. Memphis? But he was in Memphis...His eyes grew wide. But when he got back... that night on the couch...

Liz fought back her laughter as Michael’s face transformed. His finger stopped scratching, his brow relaxed and his lips, once drawn tight against his teeth, formed an “Oh” with realization. An impish smirk crept over his face at the memory that night brought back. Guess that answered that question, but she knew there were many more to come as she watched his smirk fall and was replaced once again with worry.

“School?” he asked urgently.

“Can wait.”

“But its your dream...” he argued.

“Still is.”

“But...”

“It can wait, Michael.” she insisted, willing him to see that she far from regretted or resented this new development. “I won’t give that up. Promise.”

“When is it due? How far along...”

“August. I’m five weeks.”

“Are you okay? I mean we don’t know...”

“”I’m fine, Michael.” she answered, feeling the panic for her health and safety, as well as the baby’s, coming off of him in waves.

“Yeah now, but we don’t know what carrying this baby to full...”

Liz took his face in her hands, “I’m...We... are going to be fine.”

“How can you be su...”

“I just am. Please believe me.”

Michael nodded reluctantly, and she saw tears well in his eyes. He took his gaze away from her for a moment, to blink them away, only then realizing that throughout their entire exchange they’d had the captivated audience of their family around them. He looked back down at his hand, it large expanse covering her tiny tummy and brought his eyes back up to hers.

“Me?”

Liz let out a shaky breath. Michael’s final fear. He wanted to hear from her why she wanted to have a baby with him. Seems Max wasn’t the only one who still saw Michael as the damaged child. Michael had grown up so much over the years, but his forced instinct from being raised in an abusive home, still lingered. His eyes begged the question, “Why with a freak like me?”

“Daddy.” Liz said simply and sweetly.

She knew with that simple word she managed to convey to him her confidence in his ability to be a good father. That she didn’t see him as damaged goods, incapable of caring for their child. She didn’t have a doubt in her mind that the man standing before he was going to love this child more than anything in the world, because he already did. She didn’t resent or even regret the baby. She embraced it with wide open arms, as well as him.

“You’re sure about this?” Michael asked, giving her one last chance to yell, scream, blame him for ruining her plans and dreams, but saw none of that in her eyes. Pride. She was fucking proud of him.

“Absolutely sure.” Liz answered insistently.

Not needing to be told a third time Michael scooped her up in his arms, squeezing her gentle, mindful of her delicate condition. He buried his face in her hair, shaken with relief, but unwilling to show it so openly in that so public a moment.

Isabel, who held no such notion, let her tears of happiness flow freely. She watched Kyle make his way from behind the bar and pick their daughter up and away from the new parents.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises.” she said cupping Lexi’s face in her hands. Lexi nodded with a slight smile, once she was sure she wasn’t in trouble with her mommy for giving away the secret she didn’t know she should have kept..

Isabel felt a hand grip her shoulder gently and she turned to face Sweet, Miriam clutched to his side, evident tears shining in their eyes.

“I’m goin’ be a grandpa?” Sweet asked the tall blonde, his eyes focused on Michael and Liz, still locked in their embrace.

Isabel nodded at the old man, saw Miriam bury her face in her husband’s neck, stifling the sob that escaped her lips. Sweet patted his wife’s back.

“Shhh. Mir, why are you crying, Love?” He chuckled, “You think you’re too young to be a granny?”

Miriam smacked her Sweet’s chest lightly as she looked at him wiping her eyes, “No, you old fool. Because Michael’s the only one who could make me look forward to bein’ one.”

~*~

With Christmas coming in the morning, Miriam and Sweet decided to head home early, with promise to return the next day, intent on seeing what Santa had brought Lexi, certain the jolly old elf would have so much stuff to bring her, he might just have to leave some of it at their house. A notion Lexi found very appealing.

Max had been quiet throughout the evening, sticking to the corners and shadows of the room, unsure of his place in the family anymore. His heart breaking for a himself and soaring for his brother, with every touch that Michael made to Liz’s stomach and their child. He was grateful for the early departure and looked forward to getting back to his room at Miriam and Sweet’s for some solitary reflection on his conflicting emotions.

Michael and Liz made their way to their bedroom when Liz felt a tug on her shirt. She looked down finding Lexi staring up at her with guilty eyes, biting her lower lip. Liz waved Michael into the bedroom and knelt down to her niece’s level.

“I’m sorry angel girl, but Grumpy and I have a lot of things to talk about and we can’t have you sleeping with us tonight. But I promise you can get us up early so we can check out your Santa stash.”

Lexi shook her head, with a slight smile at the mention of Santa, “I know, Auntie. Dat not what I want.” She cast her eyes down to the floor and spoke very softly, “You mad at me?”

Liz’s eyes widened, wondering how she could have ever given Lexi the impression she was angry with her, “No Alexis. Why would I be mad at you?” She tipped the little girl’s face up to her and found tears tracking down Lexi’s cheeks.

“I... I ruin Grumpy’s present.” she sniffled.

Liz let out a breath and a small giggle wrapping her arms around the little girl and held her out wiping away her tears. “You didn’t ruin anything, Sweetheart. I’m actually kinda glad he found out from you.”

“Weally?” Lexi asked, highly skeptical.

“Really.” Liz nodded and then laughed, “I bet his eyes were as big as saucers when you told him.”

Lexi wiped her nose with the back of her hand and laughed along with her aunt, “Big as plates too, Auntie.”

“Tell you what,” Liz said leaning in to whisper conspiratorially with Lexi, “I’ve got another Christmas surprise for Grumpy that you can help me with tomorrow. That okay?”

Lexi clapped her hands together, unable to contain her excitement. “I Santa helper?” she nearly squealed.

Liz nodded and kissed her niece’s forehead, patting her little behind back to Kyle and Isabel’s room. Liz looked up to she Kyle ushering his hyper daughter into their bedroom.

“Like it wasn’t gonna take us forever to get her to sleep on Christmas Eve as it was?” he said dryly, hearing his daughter chanting her new title of Santa’s Helper to the tune of “Jingle Bells”. “You are soooo lucky you are with child, Liz or I’d...” he tried to finished with a mock threat.

“You’d what, Kyle?” Liz challenged, “Make me read Buddha for Beginners... again? Actually do you have a spare copy? I might need help getting to sleep tonight?”

Kyle growled and made a move to advance on her but she disappeared into her room and the protection of a long-haired alien papa, “Wussy!” he called out before joining Isabel in trying to tame their excited two-year-old.

“You know, the more you tease him about Buddha , the more he spouts out the fat man’s wisdom.” Michael warned Liz from his place on the bed, as she began to get undressed for bed, still giggling at Kyle’s face. “And according to Lexi, ‘Baby hear everything’. Our kid’s gonna think their name is Buddha and their first words will be ‘enlightenment’ or ‘shakra’.

“You make an excellent point.” she agreed crawling into bed next to him, leaning over him on her elbow, as he stared up at the ceiling. She dropped a kiss on his lips, laughing as he brushed her long dark hair from his face. “Either that or they’ll think their name is Brian Urlacher and their fist word will be, ‘interception’ or ‘touchdown’.”

Michael laughed heartily recalling the numerous football games he used to watch with his Buddhist buddy, “Better yet, ‘Buddha says that the path to enlightenment will come if you just get this first down!’”

Liz laughed, laying back against her pillows, taking Michael with her. Her laughter subsided and she watched him with warmth in her heart as his hand caressed the area of her tummy, just below her belly button, where the baby resided safely. He placed a gentle kiss on the area before resting his head on it, letting Liz run her hands through his hair.

She let out a deep breath, watching the back of Michael’s head rise and fall with the movement. “About school.” she finally broke the silence, “I’m really not worried. I can finish out this year. The baby won’t be born until August, so I can take the fall semester off. If I can tear myself away from the baby, I’ll go back after that.”

When she was met with silence, and stillness she shrugged her shoulders, “I’m not sure how it’ll work with you running the bar, but maybe Miriam or Sweet could watch the baby until I get home from classes or Sweet could open the bar. What do you think?”

Liz was once again met with silence, but this time she felt a warm wetness dropping onto her tummy, where Michael’s head rested. His shoulders began to tremor ever so slightly and she realized he was crying. He was letting out the tears of relief and joy he wouldn’t show in front of everyone else, only feeling safe enough to let himself go with Liz, his cheek pressed her belly, his child nestled warmly inside her.

Liz didn’t dare stop him or bring attention to it. She knew Michael held some deep seeded fears, some implanted, by his alienness, some by Hank, and some she was sure he’d thought up on his own. Those fears would never completely disappear, but for the moment she knew the tears that soaked into her skin were happy ones. Humble ones. Fatherly.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.” she whispered, holding Michael close as his tears turned into sobs.

~*~
TBC...

[Guest]

Chapter 16


Max lay in his bed, staring up, wide-eyed, at the Johnston’s textured ceiling. His eyes were dry and painful, having drained himself of any remaining tears upon reaching the solace Sweet and Miriam’s guestroom offered. It was over. His marriage to Liz was really over. How the hell does the pain of that stop? Wasn’t realization and acceptance supposed to bring comfort? Max felt none of it.

When they’d stepped inside the Johnston home, Max headed straight for his room, stopping momentarily when he felt a gentle, familiar hand on his shoulder. He sighed looking back at Sweet with tears welling in his eyes, pleading with the old sage for some kind of balm to place over his heart. Some words of reassurance that would help him through this wretched night.

“No anesthetic for this, Max.” Sweet told him reading Max’s silent pleas, “I said you had to let go, never said it wouldn’t hurt like hell. No comfort in defeat. But tomorrow will be better than today. And so on...”

“Yeah.” Max smiled through his tears, having it fall just as quickly, “Tell that to my shattered heart, old man.”

“Get some rest, Boy.” Sweet said patting his arm, “Tomorrow’s Christmas. All sorts of healin’ happens on that day.”

Max nodded, despite his disagreement with Sweet. His wound was still fresh, still being inflicted. The chasm that was his heart growing deeper and deeper with every moment with every thought about his wife...ex-wife... making a life that didn’t include him, creating a child that wasn’t his. He pushed his door open shutting it softly before falling to the bed and burying his head in a pillow to muffle the screaming sobs that tore through his throat.

Now, hours later, he lay, so very tired, his body exhausted with grief, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to sleep. He was restless and his foot tapped in a steady rhythm against the bedpost as if the motion were the only thing keeping his heart from stopping completely. He turned his head glancing at the clock. Two a.m. Welcome the tortured soul hour.

Max returned his gaze to the ceiling, hoping that the blank white expanse would clear his mind of the thoughts, images and words that screamed through his head, but instead in merely provided a convenient screen for such self-inflicted tortures.

Michael was so happy. Max had never seen him smile as much in the whole time he’d known him, both lifetimes, as he did here in New Orleans. That damaged teenage boy Max had always seen, was still there in some way, always would be, but the man he saw over the past few days was in a state of peace. The life he should have had, without violence and conditional love, was unfolding for him and he was so damn happy. Sweet and Miriam did that. Liz did that. Their baby did that. Max had never seen his brother so centered, despite the internal battle that laid tremendous siege to Michael’s heart in the form of self doubt.

Earlier Max had been content to believe that Liz was being Liz, trying to heal Michael with her gentle soul. Max knew Liz’s love could move mountains, so a stone wall like Michael’s, while incredibly fortified, was not impossible. Liz always loved a challenge, but he’d been so arrogant to believe that something as special as what he’d had with her, couldn’t be born in Michael’s heart. It had and it flourished, not only in him, but her. Max saw that the healing love had gone both ways, as he sat on that stage watching the two of them quietly discuss their child’s existence. Michael was not only capable of tremendous love, but his did what Max’s couldn’t. Heal Liz’s heart. When she looked up at Michael there was never one ounce of regret. He made all the sacrifices she’d made up then, worth it. Max found himself thrown again, realizing he was no longer Liz’s world. Michael was right. He hadn’t made her sacrifices worth the price and now he was alone.

In those initial moments at the bar that afternoon she had never even once looked at him, acknowledged his presence or the pain her pregnancy with Michael might cause him. She simply caressed the hand that Michael held on her tummy, over their baby, and gazed up at him with a love so powerful Max thought Michael’s heart might explode. With a few simple words and touches Liz was able to dampen the fears Max knew Michael had been torturing himself. His heart was open. He trusted Liz implicitly. What shook Max even further, was the unnerving rightness that only Liz would have been able to bring that out of Michael. Only those eyes, that smile and her love.

Michael and the baby, that was Liz’s world now. Max knew she’d deny that her world consisted of only that, but he knew at the core, nothing else mattered. In turn, no matter how adamant Michael had been that he merely wanted Liz, Max saw the need, and it wasn’t possessive and consuming as he admitted his own need was. Michael’s need for Liz came from the healing she provided. She along with their child gave Michael a reason to be a better man. Be the lover to Liz, he could never have been to Maria and the father to his child, that Hank had never been to him. Max couldn’t deny Michael that any longer.

Sweet had been right after all. His story of love and loss, of wandering Earth chasing the dead spirits of a wife and child long gone, wasn’t so far from Max’s own. The Liz he’d loved, married, shared his bed with, she was truly...dead. The child residing within her should have been his, but it wasn’t. It was Michael’s. And she was Michael’s Liz. He was chasing a dream that had died along with the spirit of his wife. It was time to...

“Just. Let. Go.” Max whispered into the night, fresh tears filling his eyes as a great heaving breath of air escaped his lungs with the vocalization of what he’d known to be true the moment Liz had left him, “Jesus...”

Max sat up, the tears that had pooled in his eyes spilling onto his cheeks, falling further down, dampening his faded jeans. He knew there was much more to letting go than just saying it, but it was start. If he was really going to let go, he couldn’t stay. He had a lot of healing and discovering to do... on his own. It was time for his journey. Time for him to grow up. And while he’d just found Liz again, he knew the only way he could truly move on, have her stop being his world, he had to put some distance between them.

Max knew if he stayed in New Orleans trying to find his place in the new dynamics of the family, no growth would ever take place for him. He would only watch from a distance as Michael and Liz’s family grew, the binding of their hearts together tightening with every kick of their baby, its birth, its first breath. Max knew the bitterness and resentment would grow in his own heart and he couldn’t let that happen. Like Liz said, better to leave and not hate someone, or in this case, two people, who still meant so much to him.

Quietly Max stood taking his suitcase from out of the closet and began packing. Once finished, he used the phone on the bedside table to call himself a cab unsure of his destination, but finding the uncertainty exciting. Freeing.

Max stared down at the divorce papers also residing on the beside table. The last thread that tied him to Liz, at least legally. He knew he’d lost her long ago, and then completely the moment she’d let Michael into heart. With a remarkably steady hand Max picked up a pen and signed his name in the designated places, once again letting out a sobbing breath at the finality of his action.

Max placed the papers in a box, scribbling out a brief, but heartfelt note to his ex-wife, only love, smiling through the tears. He placed the note in an envelope and wrapped the papers up in a box placing the not atop it. After jotting down another brief note to his hosts, Sweet and Miriam, thanking them for their hospitality and wisdom, and instructions to make sure Liz got his gift, Max exited his room, placing Liz’s, and his own, freedom on the kitchen counter where Sweet would find it.

The cab arrived minutes later and with one last look Max climbed in, “Where to?” the cabbie asked.

“Home.” Max said wistfully, “Wherever that is.”

The cabbie furrowed his brow at his fare, “Goin’ need ya ta be more specific, friend.”

Max snapped to attention, with a slight smile, “Sorry. Um, the airport.”

“You got it.” the cabbie replied taking his foot off the brake, unwittingly becoming the chariot in which a wandering boy king began a new search for life as a common man.

~*~

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Merry Christmas, Grumpy.”

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Grumpy....” Tap. Tap. Tap. “Grumpy! You wake up! Christmas!”

Michael groaned as his eyes slid open slightly. He’d been experiencing some of the deepest sleep he’d ever allowed himself, and now it was being interrupting by a gentle, but insistent tapping of tiny fingers on his cheek.

The emotional drain of the previous day’s events having rendered his soul ragged, Michael had fallen asleep on Liz’s stomach after finally letting go of the tremendous fears he held in his heart about being a father. Liz had started talking about school, when it occurred to him that Liz had actually spent time thinking about how to make things work with this new baby. She’d never entertained the idea of Michael not being anything less than a good daddy.

Michael could hear it in her voice. There were no fears about what Hank’s influence did to him, or his sometimes uncontrollable powers. If anything it was as she knew this child was Michael’s chance to experience innocence. That this baby would find a part of him he’d believed he’d never possessed. What that was he could only guess, but he found himself excited by how this little life could change him. Just knowing it existed had done that. Happier tears had never left Michael’s eyes.

But currently, he was being tapped on the cheek by something...or someone. He vaguely recognized his niece’s annoyed voice and he grinned grumbling something about going back to sleep, knowing full well this would only fuel Lexi’s indignance.

Michael was rewarded by the loud stomping of tiny foot on his hardwood floor, his name growled, and the gentle chuckle of Liz beside him. Finally he sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes and holding his hands up in surrender.

“I’m up, Elf. I’m up.” he grumbled, and then glared down at his niece, “You know Santa still checks if you’ve been good after he delivers presents. There’s no window for bad behavior.”

Lexi furrowed her already crinkled brow, “Santa come fru chimney, Grumpy. Not window.” she said haughtily before exiting the room to fetch her still groggy parents.

“That one went right over her head didn’t it?” Michael asked a giggling Liz.

He glanced over at her, watching her nod and clutch the sheet to her chest to protect her modesty despite Lexi having already left the room. Michael felt a surge of lust rush through him as the reality of their new development settled once again into his sleep fogged brain, reminding him that because of his bout with tears they’d yet to celebrate properly and preferably with a repeat performance of how the little blessing occurred. He smirked dangerously at Liz, tugging insistently at the sheet covering her, needing to bare his new favorite part of her body, her stomach.

Liz’s eyes widened, seeing his intent, and quickly escaped out of bed before Michael could further his own foray into bad behavior, distracting his carnal thoughts with a gentle slam to his warrior ego “Oh the boys back on Antar would be having a fit. Their great general, completely ruled by a little girl.”

“Yeah and Lexi too.” Michael chuckled as Liz glared at him, throwing on her jersey and a pair of cotton shorts.

He swung his legs over the bed when Liz approached him, his sweats and t-shirt in hand. He took them setting them aside, before grabbing her gently by the waist and smirked at her belly, “You better be a boy. We need to balance out the testosterone in this family.”

“What?” Liz crossed her arms in mild indignance, forcing Michael to look up at her, “Scared of girls?”

Michael arched an eyebrow at her as he pulled on his sweats and t-shirt, “Now if I were afraid of girls, would you be knocked up right now?”

“Knocked up? Oh, I love it when you get all sappy.” she teased, kissing his forehead, then patted her belly singing to their baby as the left the room, “Daddy’s afraid of girls.”

“I am not, Liz” he called out behind her, and stepped into the living room where Lexi, Isabel and now Liz were taking down the toddler’s stocking for inspection, “I just have enough girls that own me as it is.”

“Amen, brother.” Kyle answered with a yawn from his place on the couch.

Michael poured coffee for all the adults and made a special peppermint cocoa for Lexi, extra marshmallows. He’d discovered, after giving Lexi Tabasco enhanced apple juice, that the aliens penchant for things sweet and spicy, was strictly a hybrid trait. The sputtering child making it quite clear that it was not passed onto the next generation.

Lexi eyed the cocoa suspiciously and Michael grinned, “Don’t worry Lex, it’s only temperature hot.” When she still seemed tentative, he imitated her pout, “I promise, no fire juice.” He watched her take a cautious sip and then smile brightly up in thanks at him.

Isabel and Liz exchanged a worried glance when Michael handed Liz a steaming mug of coffee and Isabel decided to further Liz’s coffee ruse.

“Uh, Michael, Liz shouldn’t have that. Caffeine isn’t good for the baby.” she said sweetly, Liz nodding along with her.

Michael arched an amused eyebrow at the two women, “Good thing Liz switched us to decaf.”

Liz’s jaw dropped, “You knew?”

Michael laughed shaking his head at her, “Liz, honey, you can’t replace a man’s coffee and not expect him to notice.” he shrugged his shoulders, “I figured it was like the vitamin thing. Besides you seemed to be enjoying the illusion that you’d pulled one over on me. Who am I to take away your little victories?”

Liz narrowed her eyes at Michael and growled, as Kyle fell over on the couch in laughter, “Oh my friend, you are lucky you got her pregnant, because I think you just kissed your sex...” he stopped abruptly when Isabel smacked his shoulder, nodding her head towards their listening toddler, “That is uh...say bye-bye to the old slap and tickle.”

“Swap and tickle?” Lexi scrunched up her face at Michael, “You pway weird games, Grumpy.”

“Not anymore.” Liz teased, watching Michael’s eyes turn from mischievous to puppy dog upon revocation of his carnal rights with her.

“Babe,” he whined, “Its Christmas.”

Liz sighed dramatically, “Fine. Who am I to deny you you’re little victories?”

Michael rolled his eyes, muttering, “Little... didn’t get you in the family way, dear. And I do recall warning you about our potency.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” Liz asked in defense.

“Wait til the morning sickness Liz.” Isabel giggled, “Then you’ll be complaining.”

Liz shook her head, “I can handle the nausea...”

“That’s because you went years eating Isabel’s cooking.” Michael teased, earning a candy cane to the noggin from his less than amused sister.

“Mommy!” Lexi scolded, taking a moment away from her stocking to defend her uncle, “You no frow candy. Dat wasteful.”

“Well Is’s cooking helped, that’s true.” Liz laughed, holding her hands up to avoid Michael’s similar fate, “No. It’s the actual labor that has me worried, Is. You were screaming like a banshee.”

Michael stopped laughing immediately, “You mean...its painful?”

“Most births are dumbass.” Kyle chimed in.

“Daddy...” Lexi growled at hear father’s cussing. Kyle threw a hand over his mouth dramatically and let his daughter swat his hand in lightly in punishment.

Isabel let out an amused chuckle at Michael’s sunken expression, upon the revelation that Liz would be in any kind of pain because of him, “Painful doesn’t begin to describe it, Michael. Excruciating. Agonizing. Harrowing...”

“You mean there aren’t any alien perks to uh...take..away...?” Michael trailed off, seeing the shaking heads of Kyle, Isabel and Liz. “Damn.”

“What are worried about? You aren’t the one who has to push out something the size of watermelon out of a hole the size of lemon.” Isabel said in mock haughtiness, trying to ease the worry with humor, for she knew Michael was about to put himself through about Liz and her safety.

Michael let out a laugh, but stopped looking over at Liz, making sure she was laughing as well. When he saw the bright smile on her face he pulled her to him seating her in his arms on the floor against the couch.

“She’s kidding...Right?” he whispered still chuckling.

“Nope.” Liz shook her head, and felt Michael’s arms tighten around her protectively.

She leaned back kissing his clenched jaw, “I’ll be fine. Might break a few of your fingers, but...”

“I suggest you wear a titanium cup come the blessed day.” Kyle warned his friend, “I don’t think her powers can get through that.”

Michael laughed nervously, and saw Kyle’s face hadn’t changed, “Dude...”

“What do you think Santa put in your stocking this morning, Little Boy.” Kyle answered slapping his friend on the back with a wink.

Michael growled, “Again with the ‘little’...?”

~*~

A half hour later there was a knock at the Jeffries-Joyce’s door that sent Lexi scrambling to answer it. Sweet and Miriam stood on the other side of the door loaded down with presents.

“Bout time.” the little girl tapped her foot as the entered, “Mommy said I had to wait to open pwesents til you get here.”

“I see lack of patience is an alien thing.” Sweet chuckled, earning a half-hearted glare from Isabel and Michael and a hearty laugh from Kyle and Liz.

Lexi held the door open and peeked her head outside, furrowing her brow, “Where Unca Max?”

Sweet and Miriam’s smiles disappeared as Lexi’s question became everyone’s. Max’s absence was conspicuous at best and by the shared look between The Johnston’s, it didn’t look to get much better.

“Um...” Miriam stammered, “Max won’t be comin’. It seems, he uh... left sometime late last night... or this morning...We aren’t sure.”

“What?!” Isabel nearly screamed. Kyle rubbed her back trying to get her to calm down.

“He left us a note saying he appreciated out hospitality and to give this, “Sweet continued, handing a neatly wrapped rectangular box to Liz, “ to you, Darlin’.”

Liz accepted the gift, staring down at it for a moment. Had she heard Sweet and Mir right? Max left? She shook the box slightly and heard papers tapping the cardboard with her movement. Her eyes widened. She didn’t need to open the gift to know what was inside.

The room had fallen silent, even Lexi, sensing something important was happening. If Max left that must have meant he...

“This was on top of the box.” Miriam said quietly handing Liz the envelope with her name on it in Max’s handwriting.

Isabel watched Liz staring down at the box and the letter in her hands, seemingly caught in a moment of indecision and knew no matter how curious she was as to what her brother had left behind for Liz, it wasn’t hers or anyone else’s time to know yet. If it was what they all suspected, this was a moment Liz needed alone.

“Um, Sweet? Mir? Have you had coffee yet? How about croissant? Kyle, Lexi, lets be good hosts and help our guests.” Isabel nodded towards the kitchen.

“We’d love some coffee.” Sweet said removing his hat and winking at Isabel’s quick thinking. Kyle nodded, nudging his daughter towards the kitchen, while Michael remained still, unsure if Liz needed him to stay.

“It take all us to do dat, Mommy?” Lexi asked, having not grasped her mother’s ruse to empty the room for Liz. “And I tot we guests too. Dat what you say, Mommy. Why we have to be good...”

“No Lexi.” Liz finally spoke with a slight smile, “It doesn’t take all of you to get coffee. If you all can just give me a minute, I’ll go in the kitchen.”

“Of course Sug.” Miriam said softly, handing Sweet her coat.

“Thanks.” Liz nearly whispered and she moved towards the kitchen, Michael broke his stance slowly making his way behind Liz to follow her. Liz turned around when she felt his presence and placed a hand on his chest.

“I need to do this alone. If its what I think it is...” she tried to explain.

“But what if its not, Liz?” Michael asked her, his voice filled with the same hope and sorrow over Max’s departure, that had touched her own voice.

Liz rubbed her hand gently over Michael’s heart, “Does it matter?”

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed if...” Michael rationalized, unconsciously placing his hand on Liz’s belly, alerting her that it was not only her he was worried about. The baby felt everything she did and if she got upset...

Liz placed a gentle hand over Michael’s on her belly, “I just need to do this alone, Michael. I need to see it through...finish it.”

Michael’s resolve crumbled at the sincerity in her eyes. He knew what was in the box too, or at the very least he’d hoped... But it was the note that worried him. Had Max signed the papers in anger or was he truly growing up, moving on and letting go? Most everything Michael had seen from Max to that point told him to be skeptical, protect Liz. But if Max’s motives behind signing the papers had been good, then Liz was right, she needed to do this by herself. She’d share it with him later when they were alone.

He nodded slowly and reluctantly, letting out a deep sigh and dropping a light kiss on Liz’s lips, “If you need me...”

“I’ll breathe funny and a you’ll come running.” Liz teased her protector/lover.

“Liz...” Michael grumbled, through a crooked smile knowing she was all too right in her characterization of him.

“Let’s give Max the benefit of the doubt.” she said straightening her face, “It is Christmas.”

Michael agreed and the two parted, he, heading back into the living room to help Sweet and Mir with the presents they’d brought, and Liz into the kitchen to receive her last gift from Max.

Liz set the gift down on the counter, tearing away the paper carefully and quietly. She already knew what the contents were, she just needed visual confirmation. She could also hear her mother in the back of her mind scolding her for opening a present before the card, but she told herself, the note held far more meaning than the contents of the box.

She lifted the familiar papers out of the box, flipping through them to see that indeed Max had signed in all the designated areas. It was over. She was divorced. At twenty-four. So young, too young to fail, but there it was in black white and red ink. Proof that fairy tales are only the stuff of myth and that happily ever after is truly in the eye of the beholder.

Liz thought she’d be more relieved, having already made her peace with marriage’s demise, but a tear splashed onto the top page at the finality of it. The man who’s name she thought she was going to share and love forever, was next to her own in the dissolution of a dream.

Wiping her eyes, Liz placed the papers back on the box and picked up the envelope, her hands shaking slightly. Hadn’t she been confident only moments earlier when she’d convinced Michael she needed to be alone? But staring down at the unopened note, she knew the words on the paper inside would hold the measure of exactly how broken Max’s act of letting go had left him. Would he blame her? Lash out with angry words? Lay one last guilt trip on her for not trying harder?

A small warmth began in her tummy and her fears were distracted by the little life inside her, feeling their mommy’s anxiety, reminding Liz hat she was worrying for two now. She placed a hand on her belly rubbing in soft circles soothing her baby with the gentle movement and relaxing herself in the process.

With a deep breath she opened the envelope pulling out the letter and unfolding it. She was more than little surprised by what she saw. Max, a man known for long speeches, and equally long love letters, had merely jotted down a few words, but they held so much meaning in their brevity:

Liz,

I know you must be surprised that I would just leave like this, but it seemed like the thing to do. I need to find a new world and the best way to do that is... let go. It hurts and I still love you, but I have to let you go if I’m ever going to find out who I am without you.

Both you and Michael made your journey’s in the dead of night, so I figured if it worked for you two... Although I realize I’m breaking tradition leaving behind a note, but I think we both know if I didn’t Isabel would be freaking out right now.

Take care of yourself, and the baby. I know you’ll be safe with Michael. He really loves you two.

Merry Christmas, Liz. My gift to you is a new start. Yours and mine. A new start at an old game should you choose that path with Michael. I hope you’ll be happy letting him be your golden ring. I don’t think I have to tell you that you’re his.

Love... Max


Liz let out the same sobbing breath she didn’t know Max had, with the final nail being pounded into the coffin of their life together. It was a breath of relief, loss and even hope. She truly hoped that wherever Max’s journey took them, he’d come back to his family. Find his place among them and be happy, but she suspected Max’s journey might take longer than any of them, since he had the furthest to go to find happiness.

She once again wiped her eyes, smiling as she felt a familiar presence, behind her, “Did I breath funny” she asked folding up the note.

“Uh... yeah...” Michael said sheepishly, knowing he’d been caught.

After he’d helped Sweet and Miriam with the gifts, Michael staked out a place just outside the kitchen, on the weak premise of getting Sweet and Miriam some coffee, listening for any sign of distress from Liz. He’d heard her let out a strangled sob and gave away his position by making his presence known. Now he approached her unsure of her mood, not knowing if Max had been a small man, leaving her with words of bile and venom or the bigger man and left her with words of kindness and forgiveness.

He scratched his eyebrow as he stood behind her turning her around in his arms so he could read her eyes, finding them glistening with tears, “So...”

Liz smiled. For as much of wall that Michael liked to put up, sometimes he could be positively transparent with his fears and curiosities, “So...” she repeated, bringing a hand up to trace his clenched jaw, “He let go.”

Michael let out his own held breath, but quickly took one back in, not having all his fears laid to rest, “And the note...you’re crying...”

“Happy tears, Michael.” Liz explained, still smiling, “Max finally got it. He’s moving on.”

Michael caught the sad lilt in her voice in the last sentence. He knew she didn’t regret where she was, who she was with, but... “That’s a good thing right?”

Liz nodded, “Of course, but you can’t share what Max and I had and not be a little sad to see it fade away. You know that.”

Michael nodded, knowing all to well the feeling of finality that had come when he had watched Maria leave. Happy sad, and hopeful that the person you shared so much of your life and heart with, would find solace for their restless souls. As he gazed down at Liz, he realized he was staring at his solace.

“So...” he said again, this time more playfully, his hands resting on her hips, “This means you’re single again?”

Liz smirked hearing the teasing tone in his voice, “Yep. I’m a free woman.”

Michael sighed, in mock disappointment, “Geez, your divorce sorta sucks out an element of sin doesn’t it. I mean it was kinda exciting bedding a married woman nightly.”

Liz rolled her eyes, “Bedding? Oh you are just full of charm this morning.” She let out a chuckle, “But if its not exciting anymore, I’m sure I could find someone willing to commit various acts of sin with me. New Orleans is a big town.”

Michael pulled Liz against his body possessively, “You didn’t let me finish, Liz. I find it even more exciting ‘committing various acts of sin’ with a pregnant chicks....Not many guys can promise you that.”

“Lets see, you have a thing for elves, married women and pregnant chicks? You are a truly twisted individual.” Liz laughed.

“I’m a freak.” Michael said, feeling Liz stiffen in his arms at the characterization of himself. He smiled, “But I’ve made my peace with it.”

Liz smiled, “Well, then I’m not taking you into any baby stores. You might just run off with some other round little woman.”

“Unless she’s short, with dark hair and carrying a half alien child... highly doubtful.” he countered.

“And here I thought you weren’t picky.” Liz teased.

“Selective.” Michael corrected, brushing his lips over hers, “Very selective.”

They deepened the kiss, basking in its true freedom, Liz no longer legally tied to Max. They momentarily forgot their company in the other room, until a highly annoyed little voice interrupted their reverie.

“Dat not how you get coffee, Grumpy.” Lexi grumbled.

Michael glanced back at the irritated toddler raising an eyebrow and then turned back to Liz peppering her with exaggerated kisses, making loud smacking sounds with his lips. Lexi growled again and stomped over to Michael slapping his thigh getting him to stop.

“You so gross, Grumpy.” she rolled her eyes.

Liz scrunched up her nose at Lexi. “He is, isn’t he? Totally disgusting.”

“Hey...” Michael warned Liz, but was soothed by her impish grin and the way she played with the hair that hung on the back of his neck.

“But I already have his cooties, so I don’t mind so much.” Liz shrugged her shoulders at Lexi.

Lexi giggled despite her annoyance at her present opening time being delayed, “Too late be a nun Auntie?”

Michael let out a loud laugh, “Way too late for that, sprite. Auntie is infested with cooties.” He punctuated his point with more exaggerated kisses, sending Lexi and Liz into peals of laughter.

“Geez Sir Gropes-A-Lot, you’ve already got Liz bearing your spawn.” Kyle said dryly entering the kitchen to retrieve his own, “No need to drive the point home.”

“But I like driving.” Michael returned without skipping a beat.

“You two are such children.” Isabel said, in mild disgust and her brother and husband’s banter.

Sweet and Miriam followed, once they were sure that it was safe to enter, all relieved to see that while had tear tracks on her cheeks, she was smiling brightly. Liz wiggled out of Michael’s embrace and set about pouring coffee for their new guests, Lexi and Isabel helping by taking the cream out of the refrigerator.

Kyle stood next to Michael watching their respective mates and muttered low, “Just wait until the fourth month, after the morning sickness goes away, you’ll be driving non-stop.”

Michael looked down at his friend with wild, excited eyes and Kyle chuckled, “Serious hormone overdrive.”

Michael settled his eyes on his love, “Liz?” his voice cracking as he called out to her, “Are you absolutely sure about how far along you are?”

~*~

Forty minutes later the group sat around the living room amidst piles of wrapping paper. Liz padded around the room with a trash bag cleaning up.

“Is this nesting?” Michael asked Kyle from his armchair, as they watched Liz tidying the room.

Kyle shook his head, “That comes later. Closer to when the kid is actually born. This, “ he gestured at the frenetic brunette before them, “is because I think we lost Lexi somewhere in the piles of paper.”

Michael laughed as Liz picked up a rather large amount of paper revealing Lexi curled up on the floor with one of her new coloring books.

Isabel groaned from her place on the couch next to Kyle, as she surveyed the mountain of presents Lexi had received from Michael, Liz Sweet and Miriam, “How we’re going to get this back to Colorado is beyond me. Even with our handy dandy powers.”

Kyle exchanged a cryptic glance with Liz and Michael, nodding, “Uh...You might not have to, Is.”

Isabel studied Kyle’s face in confusion, “What are you talking about, Kyle? There’s no way Lexi’s going to leave any of her presents behind.”

Kyle didn’t answer merely pushing himself up off the couch to retrieve a thick envelope from atop the mantle bearing his wife’s name. He sat back down handing her the envelope, chuckling at her confusion, “All I’m saying is she might be able to leave them behind if she knows she coming back.”

“What? Kyle you’re not making any sen...” Isabel countered.

“Just open the envelope, Wife.” Kyle interrupted, feigned annoyance in his voice.

Isabel did as she was told, getting more excited as the possibility that Kyle had bought them a series of round trip tickets from Boulder to New Orleans, popped into her head. She furrowed her brow when she took out the neatly folded papers, not finding a single plane ticket among them.

She unfolded the papers and surveyed their contents, her eyes widening slightly, but still vastly confused as too the meaning behind them, “Kyle this is bill of sale for ownership of the auto shop...I don’t understand...What did you do?”

“I sold the shop to Derek.” Kyle told her plainly.

“Why would you? I thought owning your own business was what you wanted?” She stammered.

“It was. I did own a shop of my own. Now its time for something different. Something for you.” He answered.

“For me?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, “ And you call me dense?” He took the papers out of her hands and set them on the side table, turning back to face his baffled wife, “I want to you to take the money from the sale and open up a design shop of your own, Is.”

Isabel’s jaw dropped as it finally hit her, “But Kyle...”

“Don’t argue. You’re really good at it, Is. Better than just doing it part time. You need to be in charge, not have someone telling you what to do and you know it.” He told her soberly, gripping her hands in his own.

Isabel smiled, realizing she’d done a shoddy job of hiding her aspirations from her husband but far from disappointed that he’d seen through her. Her brow furrowed once again as some confusion still lingered, “I still don’t understand how Lexi can leave stuff here. I mean if I set up shop back home we won’t have any time to come here...”

“Why not we move here. Mommy?” Lexi provided simply.

Isabel’s face was struck dumb once again with realization and she turned to Kyle, then Michael and then Liz who were all sharing the same conspiratorial grins.

“You’re serious?” Isabel asked Kyle, unsure if it was some sort of elaborate joke.

Kyle nodded, “Look Is, with Max gone we don’t have anything else holding us to Boulder. Here we have family.” He glanced over at Liz who’d taken to sitting on Michael’s lap, “And a growing one at that. Obviously I did this before I knew about Michael and Liz’s baby, but now more than ever I know you want to be closer to them. I knew when we came here it was going to be difficult to tear you and Lexi away from these two. I figured why should you have to be?

So, you’re going to set up shop here while I get the house in Boulder sold. And you know there’s no way Lexi is gonna want to leave so...”

“Dats right Daddy.” Lexi agreed, crawling into her mother’s lap, “I no leave Da Lady.”

Sweet chuckled from his place on the other end of the couch at Lexi calling New Orleans “The Lady.” Little imp picked up on everything.

Tears ran down Isabel’s cheeks at Kyle’s generous gift and she hugged him fiercely. Seems he’s been inspired by Michael’s gift to Liz of her education. He was handing her a dream.

“But what about you?” she asked her husband, wiping away her tears, “I can’t see you manning the front desk at a ‘girly’ shop.”

“He can come work for me.” Michael snickered, patting Liz’s knee “After all, I’ll be losing a waitress here pretty soon.”

Kyle groaned as he nodded, “The ultimate sacrifice: Working for Senor Shaggy.”

“Aw.” Liz teased Kyle, “Don’t worry. Working for Michael has definite perks.”

Kyle glared at Liz comically, watching Michael drop a light kiss on her neck and rubbing his hand absently over her still flat tummy, “Gee Liz, somehow getting knocked up by an large alien, doesn’t hold as much appeal for me. You might enjoy a good probing, but...”

“At least you finally admitted I’m large.” Michael smirked at his friend.

“All the same, Fee Fi Fo Fum, there will be no closet time spent with this employee or you’ll be in for a huge sexual harassment lawsuit, pal.” Kyle returned waving his hand at Michael.

“Fine,” Michael said in over-dramatic disappointment, “But you’ll have to wear Liz’s sign around your neck, No Probing During Business Hours. I need constant reminders.”

Isabel and Liz both groaned at their mates banter, “Are you sure you want us to move here, Liz?” Isabel asked woefully, “Michael and Kyle in the same space... we’re in for an endless supply of inappropriate jokes and noise not found in nature. You remember what that first year on the run was like?”

Liz sighed remembering all to well the infamous antics and comedy stylings of the team of Guerin and Valenti. “I know. New Orleans will never be the same again.”

“Hey,” Kyle said feigning hurt, “We can be civilized.” He glanced over at Michael, “Okay I can be. I can’t help it if Mowgli over here was raised by wolves.”

“That’s it.” Michael growled, “You’re wearing the uniform, Lollipop Guild.”

Sweet wiped his eyes from the tears of laughter, “Wait a minute now Bossman, I don’t recall us ever havin’ uniforms and if they’re anything like the one’s Liz was talkin’ bout when she came here... well I just as soon not see Kyle here in that particular get up. Might give me ‘nother heart attack and I won’t let ya bring me back that time.” He turned to Kyle, “No offense.”

Kyle held his hands up, “And here I thought I had a fine as...” his eyes fell on his snickering daughter, “Posterior.”

Isabel patted her husband’s shoulder, “You do, Dear. I just happen to be a minority in that opinion.”

“Oh I don’t know Is, I did have first touch on that ‘fine posterior’.” Liz teased, watching Michael’s brow furrow immediately.

“In high school. Through jeans. Not sure if that counts, Liz.” Kyle mused, but quickly shrugged his shoulders, “Oh who am I kidding? I had Liz Parker’s hands on my a...backside. The hormones were a ragin’.”

“Could we change the subject please?” Michael groaned, knowing he had no reason to be jealous, and looking over at Isabel who was beside herself in laughter.

“Michael,” Isabel laughed, “You can hardly blame her. Kyle wore those tight Wranglers back then...and the letterman’s jacket...” she fanned herself dramatically.

“Its true, Michael.” Liz continued teasing, “You always...still do actually wear baggy jeans. Not exactly conducive to the checking out of a guy’s package.”

“We are not having this conversation.” Michael shook his head in disgust and then smirked up at his girlfriend, “Besides, Wranglers never could accommodate me. I think you know that. Meant for less ‘gifted’ boys.”

“Ha. Ha. Stumpy.” Kyle said dryly, “Still doesn’t take away the fact that your girlfriend still likes my butt. How’s that for a little victory?”

Michael narrowed his eyes at Kyle, frustrated by the inability to come back with anything. Isabel rescued her flustered brother with a much needed subject change letting out a small laugh. “Well... since we’re moving here and I’m becoming something of a budding entrepreneur, I insist on you two being my first clients.”

Liz smiled brightly back at her friend, “Of course, Is!”

Now thoroughly distracted, Michael looked between his girlfriend and his sister, “Uh...I kinda like the place the away it is. No offense, Is.”

Isabel rolled her eyes, “Hello Moron! You have a baby on the way.”

Michael returned his sister’s gesture, “The fact has not escaped my notice, Pissy.”

Isabel grumbled, much to the amusement of Kyle and Liz at the sibling banter, “Well, unless you plan on putting him or her in dresser drawer of your room...You’re in desperate need of a nursery.”

Michael smirked, enjoying the riling of his sister, “So...the drawer isn’t the best place to put a newborn?”

“Michael!” Isabel growled, “I realize that we were hatched, but even you have to know that a baby needs a crib, changing table, rocking chair, mobile’s...a theme!”

Michael held his hands up in surrender, “Fine Nursery Nazi. You win. Just don’t go too crazy okay?”

Kyle laughed heartily, “Oh my naive extra-terrestrial, you do realize what my wife decorating your child’s room means don’t you?”

Michael’s chuckled died into a whimper, “Yeah. I’m gonna have to sell a lot more paintings.”

When it looked as though Michael mouth was about to render him dead with Isabel’s heated glare, Liz graciously interrupted, “Well..... with Kyle’s sale of the shop and my divorce papers...Jesse sure has been busy over the holidays.”

Michael took the hint and squeezed Liz, “Very busy.”

Met with more bewildered glances, Michael looked over at Sweet, studying his father for a moment. He glanced up at Liz and she smiled nodding. She hopped off Michael’s lap so he could retrieve Sweet’s gift, sitting in a branch in the Christmas tree.

“I told you to stop calling me Bossman, Sweet.” Michael said handing the old man the green envelope. “Now you have to stop.”

Sweet quirked a grey eyebrow up at his son and Michael waved at him to open the gift. His weathered hands tore open the envelope and pulled out the papers. Miriam peered over her husband’s shoulders barely able to contain the grin on her face, knowing in advance what Michael’s gift to his father would be.

Sweet read over the paperwork, barely able to believe what he was reading, “Michael...Son... this is too much.” he rasped. “Half ownership of Ulysses?”

Michael shook his head, “Not to me. Its not nearly enough. When I bought my bar, you told me that you could call me three things. Michael, because that’s the name God gave me. Son, because your older. Although technically given the time I crashed its only by a couple years...”

Sweet chuckled, Michael was right. Sweet only been about five or six when the ship carrying Michael and the other’s had crashed. But Sweet also knew that “Son” had come to mean so much more between he and Michael than simple age difference.

“And the third name was Bossman,” Michael continued, kneeling in front of the old man to meet his eyes, “ Because that’s what I was. Your boss. You said unless something changed, that’s what you were gonna keep calling me. Well, something changed, Partner.”

Sweet was beside himself with emotion at Michael’s gift. He did feel it too generous, but he knew Michael was giving it to him with all his heart. He pulled Michael into a hug, gripping him fiercely, “Thank you, Son.”

“No problem, Pop.” Michael said trying to push back his own tears as he stared back into the watery depths of his father’s. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and waved his hands at the paper, “Had to do something to quit calling me that ridiculous name.”

“Never let it be said that you aren’t extreme.” Miriam teased her son.

Michael rose from his knees and resumed his place in the armchair bringing Liz back into his lap, gripping her tightly to keep his overwhelmed emotions from spilling over, at Sweet’s reaction to his gift. Liz kissed his temple, and rubbed the hand he’d placed over her belly.

“I won’t have to call you Bossman. Right?” Kyle asked, chuckling.

Michael smirked, “No. You can call me Master. And I will call you My Bitch.”

“Grumpy!” “Michael!” Isabel and Lexi yelled at the same time.

Michael held his hands up, “Hey, give me time. I’m not used to having to watch my language.”

“Baby hear, Grumpy. You be better.” Lexi scolded folding her arms, having no idea what Michael’s new pet name for her daddy meant, only that it was on Mommy’s No-list.

“Okay Lex.” Michael surrendered, “I’ll be more careful. But if the little guy...girl.. whatever swears, I want it to at least be in context.”

“Don’t you worry, Baby girl,” Miriam patted Lexi’s leg, seeing the tot’s confusion over Michael’s last statement, “I’ll put soap in his mouth every time I hear him cuss. I’ll break him.” She looked up at Michael, “Do you prefer bar or liquid soap, Sug.”

Michael didn’t skip a beat, his smirk growing dangerous, “Liquid. Vanilla. Tastes like Li...”

Liz’s cheeks grew bright red and she clamped her hand over Michael’s mouth before he could finish his sentence, everyone in the room already beside themselves with laughter except for Lexi, mercifully.

“Lexi!” Liz said quickly, “Why don’t you go get Grumpy’s last present from under the tree.”

Michael watched as Lexi jumped up excitedly and ran to the tree disappearing into the back of it where the final present of the day was hidden. He looked up at Liz, who was grinning from ear to ear.

“I thought we were done with presents, Liz. I mean...” he ran his thumb over her tummy to accentuate his point. The baby had been more than enough for him.

“I know.” Liz smoothed out his furrowed brow, “Its small. Don’t worry.”

Michael nodded and accepted the gift from Lexi, setting the small box on Liz’s lap. Lexi scrambled back between her parents, and the room grew quiet with anticipation. The gift had been a surprise to everyone.

Michael tore away the delicate wrapping and took the lid away from the brown box, dipping his hand into the tissue paper to retrieve the item. He pulled the gift out by a strings holding it in front of his face to inspect.

Tiny, black, leather, rubber soles, oddly familiar. He turned the small shoes over and read the sole chuckling as he looked up at Liz still a bit bewildered, “Doc Martens?”

Liz shook her head, “Correction. Baby Docs.” still seeing confusion etched on Michael’s face, “It was how I originally planned on telling you about the baby, but Lexi beat me to it.”

Lexi blushed and hid her face in her dad’s chest. Michael stared at the tiny shoes, “I get it, but I already know about the baby, so why still give these to me? Its not exactly a surprise.”

Liz smirked, “Isn’t it?”

“Chicks are so cryptic.” Michael muttered turning back to the miniature clones of his preferred brand of shoe, “I already know about the baby, Liz. And unless this is your way of telling me what we’re...”

He paused, his eyes widening a bit. He watched Liz raise and eyebrow as her smirk turned into full fledged smile. Michael licked his suddenly dry lips, trying to find his voice, “You can tell? Already?”

Liz nodded. Lexi, far from understanding what was going on between her aunt and uncle, spoke up, “Tell what?” she asked, demanding answers.

Michael kept his eyes on Liz as he answered his nieces query, “We’re having a boy...” his voice caught with emotion, “A s-son.”

Miriam couldn’t contain her emotions and burst into tears of happiness. Sweet wrapped his arms around her, shedding his own tears at watching his son, find out about his own child. His own son.

“Sure Michael,” Kyle quipped, swallowing the lump in his throat to cover his own pride in his friend, “You get a boy on the first shot.”

He felt a slap on his knee and looked down to the cross face of Lexi, “You stop Daddy. I adoable.”

Kyle gathered his daughter in his arms and kissed her forehead, “That you are. Good thing too. I mean its not like I could throw you back or anything...”

“Daddy...” Lexi growled, but she could feel the tightening of her father’s arms around her that belied his teasing. She knew he was happy with her, felt blessed. And Isabel had told her a million times about how he’d wept joyfully when she’d told him they were expecting a daughter.

Too entranced in each other to notice the celebration going on around them, Michael held Liz close in his lap, his head buried in her neck so his face could be shielded from view by her hair. His eyes closed tightly against the tears he knew would spill if he opened them. Liz heard him whispering, “A son...A son...A son...” over and over again against her ear.

Liz gently brought Michael’s face away from her neck and he finally opened his eyes, letting the tears dammed behind them slip down his cheeks. “Guess you get that balance after all.”she whispered to him.

Michael smiled, “I didn’t care what we had, Liz...really...”

“I know.” Liz grinned, “But you have to admit a little victory at me having to deal with not one, but two, Joyce men.”

Michael nodded, wiping away his tears, “I’ll admit victory, but I refuse to dance.”

Liz chuckled, “Lets hope our son doesn’t inherit your two left feet.”

Michael’s smile softened, hearing Liz say those words, “Yeah... our son...”

Tears welled again in his eyes and he wrapped a hand around the back of Liz’s neck pulling her down for a kiss before the salty evidence of his vulnerability could spill out again.

Kyle glanced over at Isabel who’d been unable to fight back her own tears. It was beyond fitting that Michael have a son. A chance to get right what Hank had done wrong so many years earlier. Kyle felt his own tears welling in his eyes and cleared his throat looking over at Michael and Liz, still fervently locked in their celebratory kiss.

He grinned nudging a bright faced Lexi, “Hey. Aren’t you gonna break that up?” he gestured to Michael and Liz, knowing the high “gross” factor for Lexi when any kind of adult affection was displayed.

Lexi shook her head, smiling up at her father before returning her fascinated gaze to her aunt and uncle, her voice soft and sweet, wise beyond her two years, “Free pass, Daddy. Free pass.”


The End

~*~

Don’t worry...there is an Epilogue in the works.

[Guest]

Epilogue


Pain scored Michael’s upper thighs, nails digging in with the force of another...Jesus, when would they stop...contraction.

“I’m going to castrate you when this is over, Michael!” Liz grunted.

Castration...he would welcome castration...he was never touching Liz again. He brushed away piece of hair sticking to her face...well never touching her sexually again.

“Michael..Son.. Breathe...” Sweet’s voice reached into his head.

Michael let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and gazed up at his father, “Shouldn’t you be telling her that?” he nodded down at a grimacing Liz.

"You're starting to worry Liz, and she needs to pay attention right now" Sweet instructed.

“Trust me. This kid has my full attention...Jesus....!” Liz ground out as another contraction came on top of the other.

Christ. The kid. He was really coming. He was really having the baby...or Liz was. And he was just sitting there like a dumbass. Didn’t the books say “be supportive”. Fuck. Why didn’t he listen to Kyle about when Isabel went through this? The midget finally had some knowledge he could actually use and Michael had ignored it like so much quoted Buddha.

Michael felt Miriam, pry one of Liz’s hands off of Michael’s leg, letting the petite little mother transfer the death grip to her, “Might help if Michael were in a little less pain.”

“Michael in pain?!” Liz growled, “I’m the one being ripped apart here!”

Isabel mopped Liz’s brow with a wet towel, “You know what wussies men are, Liz. Just focus.”

Michael might have been tempted to defend his sex against Isabel’s barb, but she nailed it. Liz was in an agony undescribable and he wasn’t doing a thing to help. And the sharp nails digging into his flesh weren’t helping things.

Isabel knew what was going on, she knew how to help. He was just a fucking armchair next to the pro...armchair, pro...why the hell was he even in the room? Isabel was coaching. Birthing Nazi to the extreme. Miriam, Miriam was calming...not that it was working...he was just making it worse, God he always made it worse...how could he do this to Liz? Sweet was saying something about breathing...

Breathe. How could he breathe, he was useless, a distraction. Hell, even Sweet had a purpose, bringing the baby into the world, the life Michael had help make. His son. Oh God, he was having a son, a little boy coming into the world . A Doc Marten wearing, thumbing his nose at authority, Metallica metalhead son. What had he done to deserve such happiness?

“Michael!!!!!!!!” Liz screamed, her nails once again digging into his leg with another fierce contraction, Sweet gently encouraging her to push.

And he had the gall to wonder why Liz was in so much pain? Michael had been a pain in the ass since the day he hatched. Why should his son be any different? Why couldn’t he be different for her? Didn’t he know how tiny his mother was? That maybe she wasn’t meant to take on pain like this?

“Okay, I’ve got a head here...Michael...” Sweet said softly, tempering the chaos of the room with his gentle presence, “ Michael...”

“Huh?” Michael asked, his breathing nearly as heavy as Liz’s, “What...Head?”

“Your son is crowning, Michael.” Sweet explained, his voice firm, “I need you to help Liz bear down.”

Eureka! That was his job. Help Liz bear down. How the hell does one “bear down”? He’d always heard it as a reference...or was that buckle down? He could never remember. And help? There was something he could actually help with? Maybe he wasn't totally useless in this, if Liz needed his strength he could give her his strength, if she needed his love...well she already had that but...

"Michael, I meant you need to help her now." Sweet insisted.

Now? As in right this second? Can’t you give a guy more of a warning than that? Shit, maybe he wasn’t ready for this. Twenty years. Yeah that’d be enough, twenty years would be plenty for a warning. Not now.

“Fuck this hurts!” Liz yelled through her teeth.

Michael looked down and indeed saw a head. Christ that was messy. Hadn’t Kyle warned him never to look? Said he’d never look at Liz the same way again. Jesus, would she ever shrink back to normal down th...

Michael felt Liz’s nails and crushing grip leave his thigh and reach back, gripping his hair to gain more leverage. He bit back his own expletive in small prayer that she might not yank his hair out completely. She was pissed enough as it was without having him add to it.

“We are never having sex again!” she screamed. “Isabel, get Lexi in here! Let her see why boys are bad! Very! Bad!”

“Kinda difficult if I’m castrated.” he mumbled, earning a firm twist of Liz’s hand in his hair.

Michael thought it was his ill timed comment that had earned him the pain, but as she yanked her once again looked down, seeing his son’s head was now completely out. She slumped against his chest for a moment when Sweet told her to take a second to relax.

Holy shit. That was his son’s head. Liz was so tired and Michael knew, or at least basic anatomy told him that the shoulders were next. Head bone’s connected to the neck bone.... the neck bone’s connected to the...He glanced down at his own shoulders as Liz, mercifully, dropped her hand from his hair. Shoulders were wider than heads, and in his case... this was far from over.

“Liz...Honey...” Sweet told her softly, so far having the grace not to incur her sizable wrath, “ I know you’re tired, but if you can give me one more good push I think we can get our little prince out here. What do you say?”

“I love you, Sweet... But kindly fuck off....” Liz trailed off falling back onto Michael’s shoulder in utter exhaustion.

“Sorry.” Michael told his father, “Guess I’m rubbing off on her.”

“Oh no Michael.” Liz shook her head, “You will do no more rubbing on me. Ever.”

“Liz... “ Isabel patted her spent friend’s brow with a damp cloth, “Just a little more and its all over.”

Liz shook her head again, “No. You all go home. Come back tomorrow. We’ll pick up where we left off.”

“Come on Sugar.” Miriam encouraged, “Just one more and we’ll stop buggin’ ya.”

“No.” Liz stated firmly, and then a small whimper escaped her lips as a tear rolled down her cheek., “Too tired... I-I can’t...”

Michael looked down at Sweet, and for the first time saw worry on his father’s face. Time was not something they had a lot of and Liz couldn’t just stop this ride half way through. He had to do something. Motivate her as only he could.

“Scared Parker?” he asked in a challenging tone. How’s that for some fucking motivation?

He felt his once limp girlfriend, stiffen in his arms. His challenge tant amount to waving a red flag in front of an angry bull. He knew he might pay later, but right now it was up to her to get their son out and if it took attacking her ego, well so be it.

“Fine!” Liz growled rising back up and gripping onto the hand he’d held out for her pushing with ever last ounce of strength she had left, “How many God damn times do I have to tell you my name isn’t ...Parker?!”

She let out a great scream as a tiny shoulder made its way out and Sweet pulled the baby the rest of the way out. With sparkling eyes and a great smile, the old man held the squirming and angry child up briefly to show his stunned parents.

Holy. Fuck. There he was. Their son. A bit on the slimy side, but there. Once a part of Liz, now separated. Independent. Breathing?

Michael watched Isabel take the baby from Sweet wrapping him in a towel and suctioning out the baby’s mouth. Liz panted heavily, exhausted from her efforts but seemed as wide eyed as Michael waiting, every second more unbearable than the last, to see their son take his first breath or ...

“Waaaaaahhhhhh!” Let out his first cry his little mouth wide open and his lips trembling with his efforts.

Liz let out a great sob of relief and Michael closed his eyes as their son filled the room with his cries. Jesus this kid had a set of lungs. Definitely metalhead material, possibly lead singer. They got all the chicks right? No. Cant think that far ahead when right now, only a few seconds old, all of New Orleans could hear their newest member announcing his presence. “Here I am. Deal with me.”

“He’s okay?” Michael rasped, unable to find his own voice.

Isabel looked back at her brother and Liz, tears shining in her eyes and a brilliant smile on her face, “He’s perfect, Michael”

Perfect. His son was perfect. Was that possible? From Liz sure, but from him? Michael kissed Liz’s temple before leaning his forehead against her shoulder in emotional exhaustion.

“Perfect.” Michael repeated in a whisper.

He felt Liz bring a hand up into his hair again and he lifted his face to meet hers, “You okay?” he asked.

Liz nodded wearily, “Good save back there.” she smiled.

Michael finally allowed himself a smirk, “Well, when in doubt, piss you off. Not safe, but effective.”

“Ah and you are very good at that.” Liz mused.

Sweet cleared his throat interrupting the new parents. He waved a pair of scissors in front of Michael, “Wanna cut the cord, Dad?”

“Huh?” Michael asked still in a slight daze. Dad? Right that was him now. Dad. “Oh yeah right...they come with cords...”

Was Sweet serious? He wanted him to cut his son’s last tie to the safety of his mother? Would it hurt? Hadn’t there been enough pain that day?

“I...Uh... I don’t trust myself...” Michael stammered.

“Use your powers.” Isabel encouraged him, his son still wrapped in a towel in her arms, waiting to be cleaned.

“My powers?” Michael gaped, “Like those are reliable at the moment.”

Liz shook her head, “No, Michael. Isabel is right. It’s more sanitary. Please...”

Michael looked up at Isabel with worried eyes, “Can’t you..?”

“I could, but its traditional that the father do it.” she answered, quirking an eyebrow at her brother, “Kyle did it for Lexi.”

Michael scowled up at his sister lifting up his hand to the spot Sweet had designated, focusing his energy, and making the clean cut. “That was cheap, Is,” he mumbled.

“But effective.” She teased and then looked down at her nephew, cooing, “Now lets see if we can’t make you a little more presentable, huh? Knowing your daddy, he’ll want every hair in place.”

“He has hair?” Michael asked, wondering why he hadn’t noticed before.

Isabel rolled her eyes, taking the towel briefly away from her nephew’s head to show Michael and Liz the mass of brown hair currently matted to their son’s head. Michael smiled and nodded, letting Isabel take him away to hurry up and clean him.

Sweet went about getting Liz cleaned up, delivering the afterbirth, while Miriam buzzed around the room aiding in whatever way she could. Michael kept Liz busy with conversation, though he was feeling far from chatty after such an enormous event and both of their attention would wane over to their son, with every new noise he made.

“Well... “ Michael sighed against her neck, “That was... different.”

Liz chuckled, “Of all the words in your vernacular, you chose different, to describe childbirth?”

Michael shrugged his shoulders, “Sorry. I’ve never been good with words.”

Miriam placed a clean cool cloth in Michael’s hand and he thanked her wiping off his sweaty brow. Miriam let out a small giggle, “Uh Sug... Baby, that’s for Liz.”

“Oh... yeah...” Michael said nearly blushing, placing the cloth on Liz’s brow, “Shit... I’m no good at this...”

“You did fine.” Liz reassured him, patting his leg.

“Nice of you to say, Liz, but all I did was sit here.” he argued, moving the cloth down onto Liz’s neck.

“You were here when it counted, Michael.” Liz told him evenly. “It not like they hand out book on how to get through an alien child birth.”

“Wouldn’t have done any good.” Michael reasoned, “I froze. The great general, warrior... rendered useless by seeing his girlfriend in pain.”

“Stop it.” Liz nearly growled, “He’s here now. I didn’t do this alone.”

Michael nodded reluctantly accepting a light kiss from Liz as Sweet pulled the a clean sheet over her legs. Liz grimaced a bit as she shifted a bit to the side in Michael’s arms, the after effects of her labor briefly interrupting her euphoria.

“I’ll heal you in a couple days.” Michael promised.

Sweet chuckled, shaking his head as he sat beside the young couple, “Better have Isabel do it, Son. After today, you aren’t gonna have the energy to get dressed in the morning let alone heal your lady here. Babies have their own schedules.”

“Its okay Pop.” Michael laughed, “According to Liz, nudity will be futile in this house.”

Liz slapped Michael’s chest lightly, “Heat of battle, dork. You can’t take anything a woman says in the throes of labor seriously.”

“Good.” Michael teased, “Because personally, I like the boys where they are... attached to my body.”

Liz smirked up at him, “Oh no... I was completely serious about that part.”

Michael’s face fell and Sweet wiped away tears of laughter, patting Liz’s hand “Liz, you are cruel, girl.”

Michael’s eyes darted between Liz, Sweet and across the room to his squirming son. They were both safe and healthy. All the fears he’d had about Liz’s body handling the birth, about his son making it through the stressful process... they were washed away and all because of his father.

Months earlier no one was surprised when Sweet had volunteered his services as midwife and they were readily accepted with unwavering trust by Michael and Liz. What Max had never heard from Sweet about Linsey was that after she and the baby’s death, when Sweet managed to pull himself together, he went about training to be a midwife. He vowed that no woman, child or husband would ever have to go through what they had. It was their legacy, Sweet’s homage to their brief lives. Many of The Lady’s new children had been greeted, safely and warmly, with the kind face of one of her favorite souls.

Michael reached a hand out placing over Sweet’s and Liz’s holding his father’s eyes, “Thanks Pop.” he said simply, the dam of tears behind his eyes threatening to spill over with his gratitude.

“You’re welcome, Michael.” Sweet smiled, “Like I told you before...If I can’t make ‘em, I’m more than happy to bring ‘em into the world.” He chuckled lightly bringing a weathered hand up to Liz’s face, “Though I think I’ll admit to holding a little favoritism on this one.”

Liz smiled, “Not everyday you get to deliver your grandson.”

“Hopefully not the last time either.” Miriam added with a wink at her husband, watching both Michael and Liz’s eyes widen.

“I just gave birth to this one, Mir.” Liz nearly whined, “Could ya give me a year or two to block out the pain of it?”

“Yes. Please.” Michael agreed heavily, unsure his tired soul could handle another pregnancy or birth with all the worry he’d been through in the last nine months and the chaos he’s experienced in the last few hours of this day. “We are not a grandchild factory.”

“Not yet.” Miriam sang, as she turned her attention to aiding Isabel with the baby.

Michael and Liz groaned mutually and Sweet chuckled, “Don’t you worry. I’ll keep her distracted... how is my own business.”

“Thank God.” Michael rolled his eyes, not eager to hear his father talk about sex.

Sweet laughed, “Besides it’ll take me that long to wipe my mind of our sweet Elizabeth here telling me to ‘fuck off.’ ”

Liz’s eyes widened and her face grew sheepish, “I said ‘kindly’. And in my defense, did you see the size of my son’s head?”

Sweet chuckled again, leaning forward to place a kiss on Liz’s forehead. There was a gentle knock on the bedroom door and Miriam left Isabel and the baby to open it. Kyle, with Lexi up in his arms stood behind the door eager to meet their newest family member.

“We hear baby cry. He here?” Lexi asked Miriam.

“Sure is, Hon.” Miriam said happy tears welling in her eyes again she opened the door wider allowing Lexi and Kyle to come in. They walked over by Isabel who was finishing her clean up on her nephew. Lexi peered down at the little boy and scrunched up her face.

“He all wrinkly... and wittle.” she commented.

“Go easy on him Kiddo,” Kyle told his daughter, “He’s had a rough day. You looked pretty wrinkly too when you were born.”

Lexi cocked her head to the side and inspected her cousin once more, “I adoable, so he be too... someday.”

“Alexis Michaela James.” Isabel admonished her daughter, “He is perfectly adorable now. You’re just jealous because you’re not the smallest anymore.”

Lexi crossed her arms over her chest in defiance, but knew her mother was completely right. She looked over at a worn out Liz and Grumpy, “I go see Auntie.”

Kyle nodded setting her down so he could get a closer look at his nephew. Lexi approached the bed tentatively remembering the screams and moans she’d heard coming out of the bedroom all afternoon. The man she now called Papa Sweet picked the now three year old girl and settled her in her lap.

“You okay, Auntie. You yell a lot.” she said biting her lip.

Liz smiled, “Yeah I’m okay. Tired. And I yelled because it hurt.”

“Must hurt lot, cuz you made Daddy bwush you cuss so bad.” Lexi said earning a hearty laugh from everyone in the room.

“Its true Liz.” Kyle told her, “Never knew you had it in you.”

“I didn’t either,” Liz mused, “but you try passing the spawn of Michael through your body and see how delicate you can be.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Kyle winked at her.

Lexi watched her parents cooing over the newborn and her shoulders sunk a bit. Michael tipped her little face up to his, not letting her hide, “I still prettiest? She asked him.

Michael grinned, “Of course. Besides, anyone who goes around calling my son pretty... is gonna get their ass zapped.”

Lexi swatted Michael’s hand and he shook it away in mock pain. “You not get free pass dis time, Grumpy. Auntie have baby, not you.”

“You tell him Sprite.” Liz tickled her niece’s tummy.

Michael waved off the mini feminist and called out to Kyle, “Gimmee a count, Man.”

Kyle nodded looking down at Michael’s son and doing a quick count of appendages, “Five. Five. Five. Five. And... One. All present and accounted for my friend. Certified boy. The balance has been restored.”

Isabel looked back at Liz and they rolled their eyes as Michael and Kyle pumped their fists in the air in victory. Michael and Kyle never turned it off. Ever since the James had moved to New Orleans, The Brotherhood of the Obscene Body Functions was restored and life was never the same.

Once Isabel had set up shop, Astral Design, Kyle took the money from the sale of their house and bought into Ulysses, no longer being able to be called Servant Boy or Wench by his shaggy haired boss. The two of them counted the days until the baby was born, the balance having been tipped in the women’s favor upon Max’s departure.

Max’s journey seemed to take him everywhere and while Isabel worried constantly, her fretting would ease upon the arrival of a new postcard from some exotic location. Most recently they’d received a letter from him traveling the countryside in Scotland. He left a number to call, wanting to know that Liz and the baby were okay when the time came. He’d even sent the little guy a baby kilt in homage to Michael’s Braveheart obsession. He was a long ways from returning home whole, but it was evident that he was on his way.

Michael’s attention returned to his son being wrapped up in a blanket by Isabel, “You know I’d like to meet my son before he goes to college, Is.”

“Oh shut up, Michael. You’ve waited nine months you can wait another few seconds.” Isabel said lifting the baby off the table and carrying him over to his anxious parents.

Liz reached her arms out immediately and took her son from Isabel’s arms. Is saw Michael pouting a bit and tousled his hair, “Hey, she did all the work, she gets first touch, pal.”

Michael nodded peering over Liz’s shoulder to inspect his son. He watched Liz run a finger over the baby’s smooth cheek and his once closed eyes slid open to gaze up at his mother.

“Ow.” Liz told her son with a smile, earning laughter from everyone in the room.

Isabel sat beside them and let out an annoyed sigh as she smoothed down the boy’s light brown hair, only to have it stick straight up in defiance, “Definitely has Michael’s hair.”

“Someone had to bring the spikes back.” Michael joked. A moment later he groaned, “Damn. He got my nose. Poor kid, dwarfs his face.”

“What are you complaining about? Worked for you.” Liz defended her son.

“Huh?” Michael scrunched up his face in confusion.

“Big nose...Big hands...Big feet...Big...” Liz provided.

“Oh yeah.” Michael said puffing his chest with pride. “They are gifts to be passed down...”

“I don’t think so Bozo.” Kyle interjected, “I just saw your son’s package and if I were him I’d demand a refund.”

“Its scale you idiot.” Michael returned.

“Isn’t it, Gonzo?” Kyle returned.

Michael raised an eyebrow, “Jealous Thumbelina?”

“Ugh!” Isabel moaned, “Leave it to the Grab Ass Twins to ruin a perfectly special moment.”

“Little man has to get used to it sometime, Isabel” Sweet pointed out.

“True.” Isabel sighed, “There’s no such thing as virgin ears around Michael and Kyle.”

Michael looked down at Liz in apology only to find her laughing at the two men. He turned his attention back to his son, taking in every feature. He had Liz’s olive skin and while his eyes were dark grey at the moment, he was willing to bet they’d be a dark chocolate brown like his mother’s.

“He has your hands.” Liz whispered.

Michael brought his own hand to the baby’s and sucked in a breath when he wrapped long, tiny fingers around his father’s index finger. He knew, physically, it was only an instinctive reaction on the baby’s part. Reflexive, to grip at something placed in his hand, but he felt the trust. The instant knowledge pass through his son’s mind that this was Daddy’s hand. Their first contact outside Liz’s womb.

Michael spread the baby’s finger out so he could inspect the hands, Liz called “His.” Long slender fingers, unusual for a baby. Not like Michael had any experience around babies, but all the one’s he’d seen had stubby fat fingers. Not this boy. His son.

The skin on the baby’s hand was wrinkled, but smooth to the touch. No real lines. No imprint of a life before. A clean slate. But they were tiny duplicates of his own. Little hands that would never do violence. The cycle stopped with him. He was no longer a general. Or an abused kid. He was a father. And a happy one at that.

“What his name?” Lexi asked, and a collective groan seemed to escape the lips of everyone in the room.

Since knowledge of the little man’s existence as a boy was revealed, various names had been tossed around by all parties. No one, especially Michael and Liz, could agree on the right name for tiny lad.

“I’ve had some perfectly good suggestions, “Michael told his niece, “but your aunt here shot them down.”

Liz took her eyes away from her son momentarily to roll them at Michael, “Look I’m all about the Metallica and metal love, Michael, but I draw the line at giving our son their names. James, Lars, Jason, Cliff and Kirk are off the table.”

Michael growled, “But what ab...”

Liz shook her head, “Nope. Not Lemmy, Sid, Johnny, Axel or Slash either. Now mine were perfectly acceptable.”

Michael let out an indignant puff of air, “If I don’t get to name him after a musician Liz, you sure as hell don’t get to name him after scientists I’ve barely heard of. Jonas. Louis. Albert. Nuh uh. No way.”

Kyle snapped his fingers, “I got it. How about Ghandi? Or maybe Martin.” He shrugged his shoulders at the dirty look everyone in the room shot him, “Great spiritual leaders? Oh you people are mean. Fine then.” he crossed his arms, “How about Troy? Joe? Payton? Dan?”

“Aikman, Nameth, Manning and Marino.” Michael listed off the last names of the quarterbacks Kyle had listed off, “Kinda think they’ve put their stamp on their names don’t you? Besides, I’m a hockey man. And no way am I having a little Wayne, Jamr or Mario. In fact everyone who's ever had to have at least one bridge replacement is immediately off the list”

“Well I think it should be regal.” Isabel interjected, “Sophisticated. After all he is something of a prince. How about William? Harry? Phillip? George?”

“Yeah and watch him get his ass kicked everyday in school.” Kyle said dryly, “Nice honey.”

“Well, seeing how Michael’s an artist, and our little mister here will more than likely be his new muse...” Miriam interrupted before Kyle got himself into anymore trouble with his wife, “Why not Vincent? Jackson? Or maybe Carrington?”

“A guy who cut off his ear. A drunk. And a chick?” Kyle chuckled.

“And definitely not David.” Michael chimed in earning an impish giggle from Liz and a confused pause from the rest of the room.


“Oh I don’t know, Michael” she mused, “After all David did have something to do with our son’s conception.”

Kyle raised both eyebrows at the couple and opened his mouth to speak, but Michael held his and up, still staring down at his son, “I beg you as your best friend, not to go there.”

“Too late.” Kyle snickered, “But I won’t verbalize it.”

“Wise.” Sweet chuckled.

“Well this boy needs a name and so far we’re comin’ up with nuthin’.” Miriam said mournfully, her heart pinching at the sight of her son cradling his son in his strong arm. “What about Michael Jr.?”

Michael looked up at his mother with a slight smile and shook his head, “I don’t want him growing up feeling like he’s gotta fill my shoes, Mir. Or that he has some legacy to carry on. I had to do that. Wouldn’t wish that on him.”

During the whole argument, the baby slept peacefully in his mother’s arm’s, his father gazing down on him, disagreeing with every name that came out. None of them seemed to fit. Liz turned her head slightly to see Michael staring down at his son and smiled shifting the child in her arms.

“Take him.” she whispered over the melee that was ensuing over their child’s name.

Michael’s eyes widened a bit and he swallowed audibly. He’d been waiting for this moment since finding out about his son’s existence and now he was frozen. What did he know about holding a baby, especially one so small? He thought he was a giant compared to Lexi... but this little guy... Michael was sure he could fit him in his hand.

“Go on.” Liz insisted placing the tiny bundle in Michael free arm. She pulled a pillow from one side of the bed so he could rest comfortably and still hold her with his other arm. “I’ve had him for nine months. Your turn.”

Michael smiled, slightly surprised at how natural it felt to have this little boy, who looked so much like him, resting in his arms. He panicked a bit when the baby squirmed and grunted, but quickly relaxed when the baby did. He kept his eyes locked on his child, hoping to find inspiration, something that told him who this little guy was meant to be.

“What about Scottie? Checkov? Jean Luc? Archer? Spock?”

“Kyle...”

"Or maybe Anikan, Luke, Han? Mace? Ben? Jar Jar? What was the name of the guy Liam Neeson played" he continued.

Michael snorted softly at Liz's charge that the names were just a tad too obvious, but kept his attention focused on his son."Who are you, little man?" he whispered. "Give you're old man some help."

His little boy didn't answer, just stretched his tiny mouth into a yawn, eyes opening in heavy sweeps before falling back into slumber. He'd seen that look before...

The Crashdown was quiet, the doors shutting for the last time at nine. Her antennae tilted drunkenly forward, and each blink was getting longer and longer. "Hey Parker, you goin' to clean or sleep?"

“Can’t I do both?” she groaned, yawning unapologetically, “You know us humans need our rest.”

“Well maybe you should think about that before you go off robbing convenience stores with your alien boyfriend, and wind up picking up double shifts as punishment.”

Liz rolled her eyes picking up the broom, “Where were you with that bit of advice a few days ago?”

“Hey I’m full of wisdom, Parker. No one ever asks.”

“Oh is that what you’re full of...”


"You know, I've always been partial to Eric, Cartman, Kenny, Stan ... or my personal favorite...Kyle."

"Kyle, as your wife, I'm officially banning you from cable."

“How ‘bout Scooby, Shaggy or Fred?”

“And no more Cartoon Network for you, Lexi.” Liz stifled her laughter.

“Besides, He’s little. Looks more like a Scrappy to me.” Kyle finished for his daughter.

“No.” Isabel growled, “I will not let my nephew be named after anyone who ever occupied the Mystery Machine.”

Liz sat atop a worn out picnic bench in rest stop somewhere in Montana. The rusty old VW van that was their traveling home, calling out to her in the chill of the night, but her anger kept her more than warm enough.

“He didn’t mean it, Parker.” he said seating himself quietly next to her.

“Yes he did, Michael.” she answered through clenched teeth.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Okay yeah he did, but what’s making us wait here in the middle of nowhere gonna accomplish?”

“Why aren’t you angry? The things he said about Maria leaving...” a tear slipped down her cheek.

“..Are the things he needs to believe. Max needs his reasons or everything falls apart. You gotta pick your battles with him, Parker. You and I both know why she left. That’s enough.”

Liz wiped her eyes and grinned, “Guess you do have a lot of wisdom, huh?”

“Nice for someone to start asking for it.” he smirked.

She rose off the table and hopped down with him in tow, “And Michael...its Phillips now.” a sad tone came into her voice. “I left Parker behind, remember?”

“Um... yeah. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to that...


“Well, if you can’t stomach something royal at least pick something with class.” Isabel huffed, “Like Tristan, or Blaine, or Asleigh... or...”

“...Justin, J.C., Joey, Lance, Or Chris...” Kyle added, earning a death glare from his wife, “Okay, you’re more a Backstreet Boys kinda gal...so there’s Nick, Brian, Howie...”

“Okay the fact that you know their names, “ Liz snickered, “scares me on a whole new level.”

“If you really want a musician, I’ve always been partial to Miles, Duke, or John Lee.” Sweet chuckled, “Just don’t be thinkin’ about namin’ him after me. I’m still mad at my momma for blessin’ me with Melvin. I say the good Lord was asleep that day.”

“At this point we might as well name him after the bar, Ulysses.” Isabel groaned, “Or maybe after one of the ones you two used to work at.”

“Hmm... Cheeky, Slim or Last Ditch don’t really do it for me Is.” Liz rolled her eyes.

“Ow!” he grimaced as Liz held a washcloth to the cut above his eyebrow. They had holed up in the seedy bar’s back room after Michael had once again defended her honor and body, from handsy patrons.

“Sorry.” Liz winced, not realizing she’d put too much pressure on the wound, “You’d think that as many times as I’ve done this for you, I’d get it right sometime.”

“Yeah, well things would be a lot easier if you’d quit having assholes hit on you in these places.” he grumbled. He smirked playfully at her, hoping she saw that he didn’t blame her for his current state of disrepair.

A smile touched the corner of her mouth, “Its not me. It’s the uniform. Makes objects appear sexier than they are.”

“Sure. The uniform, Parker” he mumbled, hoping she hadn’t heard him , “Do I have to keep this one?” he gestured at the cut she was currently bandaging.

“Afraid so.” Liz sighed, “A few too many people saw you get it.”

“Guy got a lucky shot.” Michael mused, doing his best to ignore the softness of her fingertips brushing his hair away from his face. He watched her bite her lip staring down at him. He’d come to learn her tell, she had something on her mind, “What?”

Liz’s eyes widened, realizing she’d been caught, “Nothing... I mean.. Um. Why do you do it, Michael?”

“Do what?” he asked as she wiped away the drying blood from his lip.

“Work with me in these bars.” She answered, furrowing her brow, “Protect me. Did Max ask you to keep an eye on me?”

Michael cast his eyes down to the floor, “No. He didn’t. But I figured he should have so...”

Liz’s face fell and then she smiled down at him, tipping his face up to meet hers, “Thanks. Nice to have a friend around.”

Michael blushed uncharacteristically, “Uh.. No problem.” he cleared his throat and rose off the chair, “We ...uh... better finish our shift.”

“Right.” Liz nodded making her way out of the back room to return to the bar. She stopped in the doorway and looked back at him, “I’ll fix the scrapes on your knuckles when we get home. Meet me in the usual spot?”

Michael smirked and nodded, “Rooftop.”

Liz smiled making to leave but turning back abruptly, “When are you gonna stop calling me ‘Parker’?”

Michael’s eyes widened, realizing she’d heard his earlier opinion on what made her uniform sexy, but he wasn’t about to apologize for it, “When it feels right to call you something else, I guess.”

“But I’m married to Max... Shouldn’t it feel right to call me...”

“Yeah, you’d think so.” he waved her away, before she could question him further, “Get back to work, Parker.”

“How about, Huck or Tom?” Kyle quipped, “Or maybe Harry? Ron? Hell, I’d settle for Draco at this point.”

“And for those who read beyond the sixth grade level...” Isabel rolled her eyes, “Robert, Will, Edgar, Byron...”

“There’s a reason I married you right?” Kyle grumbled.

Miriam chuckled softly, “Well given Michael’s obsession with Braveheart we could always call him Wallace.”

“Well if we go with movie characters, then we should include, Neo or Morpheus.” Liz laughed, and saw Sweet raise a confused eyebrow at her, “Matrix.”

“What about Charles?” Isabel threw out desperately, determined to give her nephew some sort of name, as it was looking more and more like the little boy would go through his life without a suitable moniker.

Liz smiled, “Actually,” she looked back at Michael, whom was still staring down at their son in search for inspiration, “We’re using Charles as his middle name. That much we know.”

“Why?” Isabel asked, bewildered by the new information.

Liz sighed, “Believe it or not, Charles seems to be a running theme in our lives. My grandfather’s name was Charles. Michael’s human donor, Charles Dupree. And Alex...” she watched Isabel’s eyes widen with realization.

“... Alex’s middle name was Charles.” Isabel finished, tears filling her eyes as she settled her gaze between the new baby and her daughter, “Yeah, that seems right. He can have part of someone special. Just like Lexi.”

“Yeah, but we are still no closer to giving the kid a first name.” Kyle pointed out. “Now hear me out Clint, Arnold, Sly....Or Bruce! Willis or Lee, its up to you. Now those are tough guy names. Not a wussy in the bunch.”

“Ugh!” Isabel threw her hands in the air, “Its got to be significant Kyle. It has to mean something important to both Michael and Liz, not just some random testosterone infused moniker...”


The two of them sitting on the balcony of the apartment, catching up on life and what brought Liz to New Orleans...

“I missed you too, Parker.”

“Jeffries. Mr. Joyce.” Liz corrected with a smile, “Jeffries.”

“You’ll always be Parker to me, Liz.” ........

“Well part of finding the new me, has to be rooted in who I was.” She said seriously, “If I can’t keep Parker, I might as well take some part of my parents.”....


“Parker.”

“Michael,” Liz groaned, “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me...”

“I was talking to our son, Liz.” he stated evenly, seriously.

Liz looked down at the baby and back up at Michael, “Parker?”

“Someone has to carry on the name if you won’t” Michael smirked, “And I figure it’ll appease your dad, given that I haven’t made an honest woman out of you... yet.”

Liz smiled at him in understanding and then glanced back down at her son, “Yeah. Parker. It’s a good name.”

The whole room had grown quiet. Not an objection in the bunch, something of sign in itself given the bedlam that had occurred over this child’s name.

Sweet reached out a weathered hand and the baby wrapped his tiny hand around his grandfather’s finger, “Welcome to the family Parker Charles Jeffries-Joyce.”

“Johnston.” Michael corrected, watching Sweet’s eyes shoot up from his new grandson to his son’s.

“I don’t...” he started to say.

“It’s a little late in my life to have you adopt me,” Michael explained to Sweet, feeling Liz grip his hand, having talked about this decision weeks earlier, “but I figured you wouldn’t object to me changing my name to Johnston. Feels right. But its up to you...” Michael trailed off as he saw tears slip down Sweet and Miriam’s cheeks, “I didn’t mean to make you cry...”

“You just gave me a grandson, and told me you’re takin’ my name...Son, tears are warranted.” Sweet smiled.

“So...its okay?” Michael fished needing to hear the confirmation.

Sweet shook his head chuckling, “Boy, sometimes I think you are just thick in the head. Of course its okay.”

Michael let out a breath and smiled at his father. Finally he was going to have a name that meant something. Guerin had been forced upon him. Hetfield and Joyce had been youthful idols, but Johnston was his father’s name. It was fitting given that Michael himself had just become one.

Michael looked down at his son, who was staring up at his daddy with crossed newborn eyes, “So it’s Parker Charles Jeffries-Johnston.”

“P.J. Squared.” Kyle snickered.

“Daddy...” Lexi warned.

“Sorry.” Kyle shrugged his shoulders, “It’s a good name you two.”

“It’ll just be one J.” Liz said cryptically.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked, a sudden fear gripping his heart , “Liz, I want him to have my last name...”

Liz leaned back cutting off Michael’s worries with a kiss, “I do too. I’m dropping Jeffries and taking Johnston. Now that our son has a part of my family, I want to share his last name. No hyphen.”

Michael stared back at Liz, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. She wanted his name.

“Does that mean you two are finally gonna get married?” Isabel asked excitedly, wedding cakes practically dancing in her eyes.

“Baby steps, Is.” Michael laughed, reading the uncertain expression on Liz’s face. She still wasn’t ready for marriage and he was too happy to care.

“Lets see, she’s taken your name and had just your child...” Kyle observed, “My friend you might want to get Liz to define ‘baby steps’.”

“We defy definition.” Liz said smugly, dramatically scratching her eyebrow to mimic Michael.

Michael raised an eyebrow at her, “And you say I’m not rubbing off on you?”

“Ahh correction Daddy Dearest,” Liz said with an air of arrogance, “I said you ‘will do no more rubbing on me.’ Subtle difference I realize.”


“I’d hardly call that subtle, Liz.” Isabel snickered watching Michael’s smirk fall into disappointment.

“And from the sound of it, Michael won’t be getting har...” Kyle began, but Isabel covered his mouth with her hand.

“Why don’t we just leave the little family alone for a few minutes.” she said quickly.

“Or we could just look for a way to shut your husband up.” Sweet winked at Isabel.

Everyone made their way out of the room to give the new Johnston trio some privacy, Isabel promising to call Liz’s parents to let them know about their grandson’s arrival.

Lexi was the last to leave peering down at her new cousin and shaking his tiny hand, before running out of the room to join her parents, “We cause lots of trouble, Pawker.”

As soon as the door shut Michael and Liz let out sigh and Michael shifted Parker back into his mother’s arms, “Who knew picking a name would take so much effort.” Michael whined.

“Oh yeah.” Liz rolled her eyes, “Labor was nuthin’ compared to that.”

Michael laughed and watched Parker try to stretch in the confines of his blanket. Liz whispered her son’s name contentedly and turned back to Michael, “What really made you settle on, Parker?”

Michael scratched his eyebrow in thought for a moment. Throughout their existence names had played such an important part of their lives. The ones from previous lives, current ones, false ones...all containing the measure of who they were. And the one thing that had always bothered Michael about Liz, the reason he always called her Parker, was because that’s when he remembered her being the happiest, being Liz Parker. When she married Max, went on the run, she had to leave that behind, gave up her identity, along with her dreams and it never seemed right to him. Parker had meant safety, stability, belonging, unconditional love. To Liz it meant home.

“You always smiled when I called you Parker.” he told her simply, eliciting the reaction the using name always got from her.

“Thank God you have a penchant for misunderstood Irish authors, Michael.” she whispered, leaning back into him, her fingers playing with her new son’s soft spiky hair.

"Hey, he's only misunderstood because the reading public is not intelligent enough..." Michael began only to be caught off by her laugh.

“It's okay Michael. I've grown pretty fond of Ulysses myself, no one can ever tell me it's not a rewarding experience."

Michael smirked at his apparent victory, "So you admit that Joyce is a better author than Faulkner?"

“I admit that the search definitely made it worth while." she offered.

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

“Best you’re gonna get from me.”

"Dammit, Liz," he murmured, his voice lacking any real heat.

He had years to get her to change her mind. He glanced down at Parker and made a mental note to add Joyce to his baby's must reads. You could never have enough back up. Hopefully his son’s journey to Ulysses would be much smoother, but filled with no less love.


THE END

And yes there will be a sequel.