A/N: okay, so that wasn't a drabble. It had been, then kinda took off from there. i'd always wanted to do a dark angel crossover with polar leanings, and since no one had written a full on polar dark angel crossover, I decided to write one. I hope you all liked it.
A/N 2: I originally posted this in the drabble thread in Polar Stories but I feel it deserves it's own little space, hehe. I hope you enjoy.
Part 1 of the I, Soldier series! I might come up with a better title later, lol.
Title: Hesitate
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Disclaimer: Roswell belongs to Katims and Metz: Dark Angel belongs to Cameron and Eglee.
Genre: Prompt
Category: Drabble and Crossover with Dark Angel
Rating: MATURE to be safe
Prompt#22 - Hesitate -
"Parker, hurry up! I want to go home and catch the game! Let's go!"
There was no answer, not surprising, and Michael growled in frustration. If it wasn't Max, it was Maria, or anything else in his screwed up existence. He did not want to have to deal with brainy perfect Lizzie Parker not doing her fair share.
Michael was just about ready to bellow for Parker to hurry up when a tremendous crash from the diner proper had him rushing through the double doors. His eyes quickly flickered over the scene, and he felt his blood run cold. The busboy full of dirty dishes was sprawled across the floor, shattered dishes littering the area around it. And there, in the center of it all, was Liz Parker, spasming like crazy.
"Liz! Liz," Michael reached over and froze as she literally hissed at him.
"M-Mi-Michael....g-go away," she ground out, already struggling to get up and move away from him and the mess her spasms had made.
"Liz," Michael ground out helplessly, watching as another tremor hit and Liz crashed back to the linoleum.
"That's it, c'mere," Michael reached over and hauled Liz off the ground, shifting his body to accomodate her undulating body. Carefully, he carried her to the break room, setting her on the couch and pulling away. Just in time, Liz's eyes rolled to show the whites and she screamed as her back arched off the cushions, her body rigid with pain.
"I'm calling Max," Michael was already reaching for the extension on the wall when Liz's frantic "NO!" halted him.
"Liz," he began.
"Fuck it, Michael, listen to me! Do NOT call Max, understand?"
Michael's eyes widened, he didn't know which shocked him more: Liz's use of 'adult' language or the firm, commanding, and surprisingly strong tone in which she'd addressed him.
"Well damnit Parker, what can I do?"
"Pills."
"What?"
"My m-medicine," Liz grit her teeth against the pain and the betrayl of her body, her will the only thing keeping her from curling into a ball and crying the agony away.
"Medicine! Great, where?"
In a voice that trembled with each word, Liz told him where her emergency stash was located, and fortunately it was nearby. Michael watched with unfamiliar anxiousness as Liz downed what seemed to him to be an enormous of amount of the innocous looking pills, they looked like some of those herbs that Maria was always trying to get him and everyone else to take.
He cussed softly but vehemently under his breath as he waited impatiently for the pills to take affect, growling as each minute passed by that Liz still shook and whimpered. Sweat had drenched her hair into twisted strands on her forehead, and her breathing labored as she literally fought for each breath, trying not to swallow her tongue as she shook, rattled, and writhed on the couch.
"Michael, just....go clean up the front, it'll take a bit for the pills to kick in. Go."
It gave him something to do, and Michael found he couldn't take seeing Liz so weak. Liz was never weak. Liz was strong, she didn't take shit from anybody...except maybe Max. A wave of his hand and the dishes were resurrected in a way to make the King's men and horses jealous, and it wasn't long before he was back with his trembling friend.
Finally - finally!- her shaking form wasn't so jerky and it seemed as if they were passing. Occassionally there was a brief flare up of tremors, but for the most part, Michael could tell that whatever the hell this was, it was passing and almost through.
Liz groaned, holding her head, and with a muttered but heartfelt thank you to Michael, she made her way slowly up the stairs to her apartment, pill bottle firmly in hand.
Michael paused, staring up at her slow moving form, wrestling about with what he should do and what he could do, and then came to a decision. Parker was not going to get away with this stunt that easily. Telling himself he was just making sure she was okay so he wouldn't hear about it from Max and Maria, he followed her up the stairs and into her room.
It felt weird being in Parker's room period, even more so that the elder Parkers were absent on one of their usual convention run.
Liz was so tired, exhausted mentally and physically, she didn't even bother taking shoes or garments off, she just collapsed into bed. Michael hesitated only the briefest of moments before coming over and taking off her shoes, slipping her legs under the covers and pulling the blanket up over her lightly trembling body, taking care of her skin, realizing it was overly sensitised after hearing her soft hiss of pain at his light touch.
Her breathing was just easing out, too tired to deal with Michael and his unnervingly intense, probing stare, when she felt the bed dip under his weight. A heavy silence ensued, and Liz closed her eyes, not just from the pain. She was waiting, and Michael didn't disappoint.
"So what was that all about, Parker? Something not right in that brain of yours," he tried to joke.
"As a matter of fact, that's exactly what's wrong. My body doesn't produce enough of a chemical called serotonin and it causes the seizures...I haven't had them since the day that Max....that Max healed me, when I was shot," she admitted, painfully aware of a time in her life she hated.
A time when she was weak.
Prey.
And Liz Parker was never anyone's prey, ever.
"Oh. But that's not all, is it Parker?"
"Damn you for being so fucking observant, Guerin," Liz moaned, inwardly smacking her head against a wall.
"And that's another thing. Since when are you a graduate of Guerin Speak 101?" he prompted, lightly teasing to get rid of the tension in the room his not-so-innocent question had produced.
"Who says that you influenced me? I could have just been hiding it under illusion," she quipped.
"So tell me oh great magician, what's your secret? You know mine."
Liz hesitated, debating the question of whether or not to tell Michael, something she'd been wrestling with ever since she'd learned the alien's secret. But Michael wasn't everybody, or even just anybody, and out of them all she felt he might even be the only one who could truly understand her position and what she was going through.
Grunting with slight pain, Liz turned over to lay on her back and turn her head to look at the scuffy man-child sitting on the edge of her bed.
"Fine...but come over here, I'm too tired to speak up."
Liz shifted only slightly as Michael crept over to lean up against the headboard, helping to prop her up.
"Okay...first off, my name hasn't always been Liz Parker, not before Jeff and Nancy adopted me."
"Whoa, wait! You were adopted?"
"Kinda," Liz smirked. "Now shut the hell up and let me get on. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," a cocked eyebrow and curved lips greeted her, and she rolled her eyes.
"Good. My name was Jondy, and I grew up in a little place called Manticore...."
~~~
TBC....?
I,Soldier (UC, MATURE, DA xover) Ch5 5/18 [WIP]
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I,Soldier (UC, MATURE, DA xover) Ch5 5/18 [WIP]
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Re: I,Soldier (UC, MATURE, DA xover)
Title: Destroy, Prompt #23
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Disclaimer: Roswell is not mine, it belongs to Metz originally before Katims created the show....Dark Angel belongs to Cameron and Eglee, Fox, SciFi, and a whole slew of others I don't know.
Category: Prompt, Crossover Dark Angel
Rating: MATURE
Synopsis: Sequel to Hesitate
Prompt #23 ~ DESTROY ~
CRACK!
An innocent cacti exploded into thousands of melting pieces, fueled by the rage of the man-child shadowed under the moon and starlight. Waving a hand almost casually, a reddish-orange shield flicked briefly to life, long enough to repel any debris flying his way.
It was not enough. Not nearly enough.
Golden eyes narrowed and with a grimace that settled into a firm, clenched line, that rage, the helplessness, the utter horror of what he'd heard was focused on releasing the pent up emotion and energy. Channeling all the emotion in one big ball deep in his gut, Michael flung his hand out and heard a satisfied BOOM as one after the other the line of semi-distant boulders exploded into fine gravel and dust in the wake of feeling.
Exhausted, the night's events and revelations had him collapsing to the desert floor, the sand, clay, and dirt mix a familiar friend and turning to mud as tears he was unaware of tracked down his face in time to the sobs heaving out of his lungs.
My name was Jondy, and I grew up in a little place called Manticore...
Those words and what Liz -Jondy- no, Liz, had told him afterword still rolled around in his brain even hours afterward. He couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it, at first.
Genetically engineered childern by way of recombient animal and human DNA spliced together to create the ultimate in biological technological supersoldier technology was simply put unbelievable...and he was the re-incarnated hybrid of an alien warlord of a world in a galaxy billions of light-years from Earth.
He had to admit, it was a little farfetched.
C'mon....Little Lizzie Parker a killing machine? A trained soldier since conception, who had enhanced strength, speed, stamina, and smarts? Well, the smarts he could conceede, but the rest of it? No way....not even Maria could come up with shit like this.
And he didn't believe, until she showed him. Vulnerable and more than a little frustrated with his lack of belief in her tale and the seizure episode, she'd challenged him to let his guard down enough to see. She offered him a chance to know the truth, dared him, and damn bitch knew how to push his buttons, knew how he'd react to the gauntlett she'd thrown down.
Closing his eyes, Michael's mind replayed everything that had happened in excrutiating detail...
~*~*~*~
"C'mon, Michael, it's not like you've never kissed anyone before," Liz rolled her eyes in mock disgust, the hint of a pout twitching about her lips.
"Anyone was not you," he'd snapped, still trying to find a way to get out of the situation, and cursing himself for that small part that didn't want to get out of this. The stupid part that wanted to know it all, to see if it might be true.
"Fine," Liz huffed, crossing her arms and fairly sagging against the headboard, scowling at him in a move that he recognized as one of his own arsenal.
"Fine," he snarled back.
She looked adorable pouting and where the hell did that thought come from? Debating for a moment, staring at Liz's profile, he was startled to find himself drawn to the fire blazing in those topaz depths.
"Chickenshit."
"What?!" Michael's eyebrows nearly flew into his hairline as he'd gaped at the tiny woman-child curled on her bed. Not even an hour and half ago he'd held her spasming body close to his, carrying her to the relative safety of the breakroom couch, and relieving her pain by fetching her medicine.
"You heard me. Chickenshit. Michael Guerin is chickenshit scared of not being the only freak in town."
Yet here she was, hair askew and her body partly swathed in the covers from her bed, he was startled to find this wasn't the mousy, meek Lizzie Parker he'd taken for granted. Her head was held high, her chin raised defiantly, and her back was straight even against the headboard. There was confidence and an unyielding strength and resolve in her posture, no hint of the weakness, meekness, or nervousness he'd come to associate with her.
The change was amazing and Michael began to believe, just for a moment, that maybe, maybe this cockamamie story of hers might be true and not a delusion of her seizures.
"I'm no chickenshit coward," he gritted out, angry. Angry at the implication, angry that he'd let her rile him without her even raising her voice, and angry that he wanted to prove to her he wasn't chicken.
"Never said you were a coward. Just chickenshit," she'd sneered, goaded him. If he was thinking straighter, he'd recognize another one of his tactics, but at the moment he wasn't appreciative of it at all.
"I'm not that either," he ground out coldly, stonewall falling into place.
"Prove it," she'd clipped back, face completely blanking out in a mask void of emotion, veiling her eyes of any and every emotion, and Michael hissed -not gasped, he'd never do something so girly.
Liz Parker was known through her eyes. Anything and everything you wanted to know was in her eyes. These eyes were blank, cold....almost dead. That wasn't Liz.
That's Jondy...no, X5-210, the chill ran up his spine.
"I will."
Taking the few steps separating them, he slid back onto the bed to where she waited, one of her brows arched in challenge and Michael swore he saw the vaguest glimmer of amusement in those dark depths, before her tongue flicked out to wet her lips in preparation.
"Max is going to kill me," he muttered, closing his eyes. "Then Maria will voodoo me alive and kill me again, slowly, painfully."
"No shit," Liz snorted in agreement.
"Okay...just a kiss. A small, innocuous..."
"Interrogative," Liz smirked.
"Kiss."
Liz nodded again.
Michael closed his eyes again, gathering himself. He never even let Maria see anything, and flashes went both ways. He wasn't sure he wanted to leave himself so open...because if anyone could find a way past his defenses, he was sure Liz Parker or whatever the hell she called herself would be sure to find it.
"You don't have to, you know. If you don't believe me than...well, then you're that's your problem and a fucking hypocrite, but..."
Whatever else she would have said was cut off as Michael brought his mouth against hers, teeth clacking togehter at the abruptness of the move. He pulled back slightly and the kiss became softer, not quite gentle, he was too aggressive for that. But what surprised - and pleased - him was that Liz responded with just as much fervor.
A growl raised in her throat as he pushed his tongue uninvited into her mouth to duel with her own. It was at that moment, as her body curved to mold into his own, as he pressed her against the wall, her hands gripping his shoulder and tangled in his hair for support that they came.
The flashes that was.
Cold. Fear. Pain. MANTICORE.
Naked skin exposed to chilly night air...ALONE. Pain. Why was there no one there?
Children standing at attention in line. Children sparring. Weapons firing, pain, blood, scared, hate. ESCAPE!
By the time Michael pulled back, gasping for air, he knew that the flashes were complete. He was shocked, awed, and more than a little scared out of his green celled blood that Liz had completely opened herself to him, no holds barred.
He knew what she felt, how she had struggled with the decision on whether or not to let the aliens in on her secret...how scared she felt and surprisingly, how jealous she was of the aliens. Not of their powers - hello, genetically empowered supersoldier - but of their connection, their togetherness. He now understood why she would get so frustrated and fed up with the group for they were a group, they had each other to fall back on and to be themselves with no fear of reprisal.
She was alone.
A cat without her pard, a wolf without her pack, a raptor without her clan, a soldier without her unit....she'd grown up with brothers and sisters, the only ones who had loved her unconditionally, and she was separated. Only memories of being together, and some of seeing and hearing some of those same brothers and sisters die, not knowing if there were any others like her....was she the only one of her unit, her pack left?
Liz the only child, Jondy the joker, X5-210 the soldier....jealous of the hybrids and the family unit they had. He knew her, everything about her, more than anything he'd read in that damn journal, more than Max knew for she had kept this part of herself away from him, scared.
It was too much. Especially since he knew that the connection had went both ways.
Liz's eyes slowly fluttered open and the two locked eyes, staring, and sharing a moment of perfect clarity and understanding. She knew. He knew.
Without another word, he eased up off the bed, never breaking eye contact until he gently shut her door, and made his way in a daze, absently locking the door behind him as he left.
~*~*~*~
And that's how he came to be here, in his refuge of the great desert expanse, his one peace in the world, blowing things up.
He was scared. He was furious. He was so damn vulnerable, and most of all, what he hated, was he was hopeful.
Hopeful that finally there was someone who could and would and did understand him, and what he went through, experienced, is going through now. And she was his best friend's love interest, and his sometime girlfriend's best friend.
The cactus and the boulders weren't the only thing that were destroyed today. Lines had been crossed, erased and blown up in the course of a few hours and it would never be the same.
Not when he had the image of a shorn haired, doe eyed child in fatigues and face paint, staring in awe at a red balloon, having never seen one before. Not when he still felt her horror and grief and despair and cold will to go on, to survive, as brothers and sisters fell to training or those who were supposed to take care of them.
Especially not when he had the taste of her in his mouth, the feel of her lips soft and compliant, yielding and taking at the same time, the image of her eyes closed in the pure enjoyment of the moment and sensation.
Good deity in the universe.
He was so destroyed.
~~~
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Disclaimer: Roswell is not mine, it belongs to Metz originally before Katims created the show....Dark Angel belongs to Cameron and Eglee, Fox, SciFi, and a whole slew of others I don't know.
Category: Prompt, Crossover Dark Angel
Rating: MATURE
Synopsis: Sequel to Hesitate
Prompt #23 ~ DESTROY ~
CRACK!
An innocent cacti exploded into thousands of melting pieces, fueled by the rage of the man-child shadowed under the moon and starlight. Waving a hand almost casually, a reddish-orange shield flicked briefly to life, long enough to repel any debris flying his way.
It was not enough. Not nearly enough.
Golden eyes narrowed and with a grimace that settled into a firm, clenched line, that rage, the helplessness, the utter horror of what he'd heard was focused on releasing the pent up emotion and energy. Channeling all the emotion in one big ball deep in his gut, Michael flung his hand out and heard a satisfied BOOM as one after the other the line of semi-distant boulders exploded into fine gravel and dust in the wake of feeling.
Exhausted, the night's events and revelations had him collapsing to the desert floor, the sand, clay, and dirt mix a familiar friend and turning to mud as tears he was unaware of tracked down his face in time to the sobs heaving out of his lungs.
My name was Jondy, and I grew up in a little place called Manticore...
Those words and what Liz -Jondy- no, Liz, had told him afterword still rolled around in his brain even hours afterward. He couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it, at first.
Genetically engineered childern by way of recombient animal and human DNA spliced together to create the ultimate in biological technological supersoldier technology was simply put unbelievable...and he was the re-incarnated hybrid of an alien warlord of a world in a galaxy billions of light-years from Earth.
He had to admit, it was a little farfetched.
C'mon....Little Lizzie Parker a killing machine? A trained soldier since conception, who had enhanced strength, speed, stamina, and smarts? Well, the smarts he could conceede, but the rest of it? No way....not even Maria could come up with shit like this.
And he didn't believe, until she showed him. Vulnerable and more than a little frustrated with his lack of belief in her tale and the seizure episode, she'd challenged him to let his guard down enough to see. She offered him a chance to know the truth, dared him, and damn bitch knew how to push his buttons, knew how he'd react to the gauntlett she'd thrown down.
Closing his eyes, Michael's mind replayed everything that had happened in excrutiating detail...
~*~*~*~
"C'mon, Michael, it's not like you've never kissed anyone before," Liz rolled her eyes in mock disgust, the hint of a pout twitching about her lips.
"Anyone was not you," he'd snapped, still trying to find a way to get out of the situation, and cursing himself for that small part that didn't want to get out of this. The stupid part that wanted to know it all, to see if it might be true.
"Fine," Liz huffed, crossing her arms and fairly sagging against the headboard, scowling at him in a move that he recognized as one of his own arsenal.
"Fine," he snarled back.
She looked adorable pouting and where the hell did that thought come from? Debating for a moment, staring at Liz's profile, he was startled to find himself drawn to the fire blazing in those topaz depths.
"Chickenshit."
"What?!" Michael's eyebrows nearly flew into his hairline as he'd gaped at the tiny woman-child curled on her bed. Not even an hour and half ago he'd held her spasming body close to his, carrying her to the relative safety of the breakroom couch, and relieving her pain by fetching her medicine.
"You heard me. Chickenshit. Michael Guerin is chickenshit scared of not being the only freak in town."
Yet here she was, hair askew and her body partly swathed in the covers from her bed, he was startled to find this wasn't the mousy, meek Lizzie Parker he'd taken for granted. Her head was held high, her chin raised defiantly, and her back was straight even against the headboard. There was confidence and an unyielding strength and resolve in her posture, no hint of the weakness, meekness, or nervousness he'd come to associate with her.
The change was amazing and Michael began to believe, just for a moment, that maybe, maybe this cockamamie story of hers might be true and not a delusion of her seizures.
"I'm no chickenshit coward," he gritted out, angry. Angry at the implication, angry that he'd let her rile him without her even raising her voice, and angry that he wanted to prove to her he wasn't chicken.
"Never said you were a coward. Just chickenshit," she'd sneered, goaded him. If he was thinking straighter, he'd recognize another one of his tactics, but at the moment he wasn't appreciative of it at all.
"I'm not that either," he ground out coldly, stonewall falling into place.
"Prove it," she'd clipped back, face completely blanking out in a mask void of emotion, veiling her eyes of any and every emotion, and Michael hissed -not gasped, he'd never do something so girly.
Liz Parker was known through her eyes. Anything and everything you wanted to know was in her eyes. These eyes were blank, cold....almost dead. That wasn't Liz.
That's Jondy...no, X5-210, the chill ran up his spine.
"I will."
Taking the few steps separating them, he slid back onto the bed to where she waited, one of her brows arched in challenge and Michael swore he saw the vaguest glimmer of amusement in those dark depths, before her tongue flicked out to wet her lips in preparation.
"Max is going to kill me," he muttered, closing his eyes. "Then Maria will voodoo me alive and kill me again, slowly, painfully."
"No shit," Liz snorted in agreement.
"Okay...just a kiss. A small, innocuous..."
"Interrogative," Liz smirked.
"Kiss."
Liz nodded again.
Michael closed his eyes again, gathering himself. He never even let Maria see anything, and flashes went both ways. He wasn't sure he wanted to leave himself so open...because if anyone could find a way past his defenses, he was sure Liz Parker or whatever the hell she called herself would be sure to find it.
"You don't have to, you know. If you don't believe me than...well, then you're that's your problem and a fucking hypocrite, but..."
Whatever else she would have said was cut off as Michael brought his mouth against hers, teeth clacking togehter at the abruptness of the move. He pulled back slightly and the kiss became softer, not quite gentle, he was too aggressive for that. But what surprised - and pleased - him was that Liz responded with just as much fervor.
A growl raised in her throat as he pushed his tongue uninvited into her mouth to duel with her own. It was at that moment, as her body curved to mold into his own, as he pressed her against the wall, her hands gripping his shoulder and tangled in his hair for support that they came.
The flashes that was.
Cold. Fear. Pain. MANTICORE.
Naked skin exposed to chilly night air...ALONE. Pain. Why was there no one there?
Children standing at attention in line. Children sparring. Weapons firing, pain, blood, scared, hate. ESCAPE!
By the time Michael pulled back, gasping for air, he knew that the flashes were complete. He was shocked, awed, and more than a little scared out of his green celled blood that Liz had completely opened herself to him, no holds barred.
He knew what she felt, how she had struggled with the decision on whether or not to let the aliens in on her secret...how scared she felt and surprisingly, how jealous she was of the aliens. Not of their powers - hello, genetically empowered supersoldier - but of their connection, their togetherness. He now understood why she would get so frustrated and fed up with the group for they were a group, they had each other to fall back on and to be themselves with no fear of reprisal.
She was alone.
A cat without her pard, a wolf without her pack, a raptor without her clan, a soldier without her unit....she'd grown up with brothers and sisters, the only ones who had loved her unconditionally, and she was separated. Only memories of being together, and some of seeing and hearing some of those same brothers and sisters die, not knowing if there were any others like her....was she the only one of her unit, her pack left?
Liz the only child, Jondy the joker, X5-210 the soldier....jealous of the hybrids and the family unit they had. He knew her, everything about her, more than anything he'd read in that damn journal, more than Max knew for she had kept this part of herself away from him, scared.
It was too much. Especially since he knew that the connection had went both ways.
Liz's eyes slowly fluttered open and the two locked eyes, staring, and sharing a moment of perfect clarity and understanding. She knew. He knew.
Without another word, he eased up off the bed, never breaking eye contact until he gently shut her door, and made his way in a daze, absently locking the door behind him as he left.
~*~*~*~
And that's how he came to be here, in his refuge of the great desert expanse, his one peace in the world, blowing things up.
He was scared. He was furious. He was so damn vulnerable, and most of all, what he hated, was he was hopeful.
Hopeful that finally there was someone who could and would and did understand him, and what he went through, experienced, is going through now. And she was his best friend's love interest, and his sometime girlfriend's best friend.
The cactus and the boulders weren't the only thing that were destroyed today. Lines had been crossed, erased and blown up in the course of a few hours and it would never be the same.
Not when he had the image of a shorn haired, doe eyed child in fatigues and face paint, staring in awe at a red balloon, having never seen one before. Not when he still felt her horror and grief and despair and cold will to go on, to survive, as brothers and sisters fell to training or those who were supposed to take care of them.
Especially not when he had the taste of her in his mouth, the feel of her lips soft and compliant, yielding and taking at the same time, the image of her eyes closed in the pure enjoyment of the moment and sensation.
Good deity in the universe.
He was so destroyed.
~~~
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Re: I,Soldier (UC, MATURE, DA xover)
Title: Follow
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Disclaimer: Roswell belongs to Metz and Katims, Dark Angel belongs to Cameron and Eglee.
Category: Prompt #24- New Drabble thread, Crossover
Synopsis: Follow the leader.
Rating: MATURE
~~~
Prompt #24 - FOLLOW -
~~~
"Stalking's illegal y'know, even post-Pulse," the dry voice was faintly amused. Very faintly amused.
"So is planning arson," he smirked, and it grew into a small smile at the inelegant snort that was his statement's only reply.
"And you would know what I'm planning because?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I'd do the same."
"And you were stalking me because?"
"Max isn't here to do it," he grinned.
He should have known she'd known he was tailing her. Since coming clean to him on that fateful night, she was unafraid to show her true capabilities when they were by themselves.
With a frustrated sigh ending in a faint growl, the small figure stepped out of the shadows and joined Michael in the poor light of the filling station. Such a stop was intentional, he realized, as he remembered that with the shark in her DNA she could go days without sleep, although even a transgenic would have to take a break from riding on a motorcycle for hours on end.
"Michael."
"Liz. Or are you going by Jondy now?"
"You going by Rath?" she asked pointedly, irritably, and Michael nodded, conceeding her point.
"What are you doing here?"
"Could say the same for you, sweetheart," the endearment slipped off his tongue before he could catch it, and Liz's brows raised in question.
There was a charged silence for a moment, as Liz held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity, before the tough bitch eased off her face and softened into the Liz he knew best.
"Zack needs me," was all she said and that was enough.
He understood.
The call of duty, the binding of 'family' that was family only in shared history and creation, the desire to find something, any purpose to make her existence seem worthwhile.
He understood it all.
"Max would say that too," he threw out casually, inwardly thrilled at seeing that dangerous flash of her eyes, that darkening that foretold the storm and temper.
"Max could kiss my ass and fly off to the mothership in his big ears for all I give a damn about that," she hissed, the pain of Max's 'destiny' and the little blond gerbil who'd forced herself into what had been Liz's rightful place still fresh.
Lizzie Parker might have taken that meekly but since he'd awakened the inner kitty, Jondy wasn't putting up with it.
Michael chuckled, and Liz scowled at him briefly, before giving a grudging hmph and shoving past him to her waiting baby while Michael followed at a more leisurely pace, admiring leather encased curves and the metal adornments.
Liz sure knew how to pick a good motorcylce, he grinned to himself. He watched as she cooed to her rebuilt Harley with enough jury-rigging to make a state trooper pee on himself in ecstasy. Similar to his own but much smaller and more suitable to her much more tinier frame, she proved she knew how to handle all that horsepower under her legs.
"Don't you want to know why I'm here?" he goaded, unable to help himself as he mounted his own hog, fairly purring in delight as his baby roared to life in challenge to her own.
"Do I really want to know?" she quirked her lips and Michael laughed out loud.
"Probably not."
"Don't matter to me. It's a free country, do what you want, no one can tell you what to do, not even Max or Tess."
Even though she was pissed at him, Liz couldn't help but feel a kinship to the scruffy alien and they shared a grin of complete accord.
"So....you mind if I tag along?"
"Michael..."
"Liz, I'm not going to let you face this alone. I've seen what it does to you and I want to make sure you come back in one piece."
"I won't be alone, my brother and sister will be there with me," she snarled back, frustrated again. "Shouldn't you be taking care of your own?"
Blue Lady, why was he being so difficult? Why was he pursuing this so hard?
Michael felt the sting of her words but when had he ever let that stop him?
"They'll be fine with Valenti, and Isabel won't let Max do anything stupid while I'm gone, you can bet on that. But whether or not you like it Parker, I'm coming along for the ride." Besides,you need me, he finished silently.
"Fine! Don't cry to me if you can't keep up."
With that parting shot, Liz took off, and as he found himself doing more and more lately, Michael followed.
~~~
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Disclaimer: Roswell belongs to Metz and Katims, Dark Angel belongs to Cameron and Eglee.
Category: Prompt #24- New Drabble thread, Crossover
Synopsis: Follow the leader.
Rating: MATURE
~~~
Prompt #24 - FOLLOW -
~~~
"Stalking's illegal y'know, even post-Pulse," the dry voice was faintly amused. Very faintly amused.
"So is planning arson," he smirked, and it grew into a small smile at the inelegant snort that was his statement's only reply.
"And you would know what I'm planning because?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I'd do the same."
"And you were stalking me because?"
"Max isn't here to do it," he grinned.
He should have known she'd known he was tailing her. Since coming clean to him on that fateful night, she was unafraid to show her true capabilities when they were by themselves.
With a frustrated sigh ending in a faint growl, the small figure stepped out of the shadows and joined Michael in the poor light of the filling station. Such a stop was intentional, he realized, as he remembered that with the shark in her DNA she could go days without sleep, although even a transgenic would have to take a break from riding on a motorcycle for hours on end.
"Michael."
"Liz. Or are you going by Jondy now?"
"You going by Rath?" she asked pointedly, irritably, and Michael nodded, conceeding her point.
"What are you doing here?"
"Could say the same for you, sweetheart," the endearment slipped off his tongue before he could catch it, and Liz's brows raised in question.
There was a charged silence for a moment, as Liz held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity, before the tough bitch eased off her face and softened into the Liz he knew best.
"Zack needs me," was all she said and that was enough.
He understood.
The call of duty, the binding of 'family' that was family only in shared history and creation, the desire to find something, any purpose to make her existence seem worthwhile.
He understood it all.
"Max would say that too," he threw out casually, inwardly thrilled at seeing that dangerous flash of her eyes, that darkening that foretold the storm and temper.
"Max could kiss my ass and fly off to the mothership in his big ears for all I give a damn about that," she hissed, the pain of Max's 'destiny' and the little blond gerbil who'd forced herself into what had been Liz's rightful place still fresh.
Lizzie Parker might have taken that meekly but since he'd awakened the inner kitty, Jondy wasn't putting up with it.
Michael chuckled, and Liz scowled at him briefly, before giving a grudging hmph and shoving past him to her waiting baby while Michael followed at a more leisurely pace, admiring leather encased curves and the metal adornments.
Liz sure knew how to pick a good motorcylce, he grinned to himself. He watched as she cooed to her rebuilt Harley with enough jury-rigging to make a state trooper pee on himself in ecstasy. Similar to his own but much smaller and more suitable to her much more tinier frame, she proved she knew how to handle all that horsepower under her legs.
"Don't you want to know why I'm here?" he goaded, unable to help himself as he mounted his own hog, fairly purring in delight as his baby roared to life in challenge to her own.
"Do I really want to know?" she quirked her lips and Michael laughed out loud.
"Probably not."
"Don't matter to me. It's a free country, do what you want, no one can tell you what to do, not even Max or Tess."
Even though she was pissed at him, Liz couldn't help but feel a kinship to the scruffy alien and they shared a grin of complete accord.
"So....you mind if I tag along?"
"Michael..."
"Liz, I'm not going to let you face this alone. I've seen what it does to you and I want to make sure you come back in one piece."
"I won't be alone, my brother and sister will be there with me," she snarled back, frustrated again. "Shouldn't you be taking care of your own?"
Blue Lady, why was he being so difficult? Why was he pursuing this so hard?
Michael felt the sting of her words but when had he ever let that stop him?
"They'll be fine with Valenti, and Isabel won't let Max do anything stupid while I'm gone, you can bet on that. But whether or not you like it Parker, I'm coming along for the ride." Besides,you need me, he finished silently.
"Fine! Don't cry to me if you can't keep up."
With that parting shot, Liz took off, and as he found himself doing more and more lately, Michael followed.
~~~
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KiaraAlexisKlay
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Re: I,Soldier (UC, MATURE, DA xover) 04-15-08
A/N: I'm so glad that everyone is enjoying this....better yet, I'm glad that you're enjoying the pairing (Polar). There's not a lot of these out there, so I'm proud of doing something so rare. 
And yes, this one is shorter than the others, but I think it's brilliant just the way it is. There will be more I promise you!
Title: Vacation, Shelter
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Genre: Crossover, Prompt #27, #28
Disclaimer: Roswell and Dark Angel do not belong to me but their respective creators (Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, Cameron, Eglee, Fox, WB, etc)
Summary: The journey begins. Next in I,Soldier series.
Rating: MATURE
~~~
Vacation, Shelter
~~~
Amber colored liquid sloshed in rhythm as the dark colored glass twirled between nimble fingers, and then the glass was airborne, twisting and cart-wheeling like an Olympic gymnast to mount gracefully –safely- into steady hands. A flick of the wrist and a slight pressure at the nozzle and the same amber liquid found itself molding to the contours of its new glassy domains, clear thick cut crystal shot glasses that added a glimmer of sparkle not entirely due to the harsh liquor.
“Order up!” was bellowed in a gruff voice to match the smoky décor of the bar atmosphere.
“Show off!” an amused voice purred in a teasing tone.
“Learned from the best,” a smirk passed between the two, a waitress in tight pleather pants and a loose red and white handkerchief halter top that completely covered her neck and the barkeep a shaggy haired six foot tower of lean muscle in a tight black tee, washed out jeans, and a hawk’s nose.
“Long as ya knows ya betters,” the girl bobbed her head in agreement of her own words, a smirk just as arrogant as her male counterparts freely upon her lips.
“Like you’d let me forget,” the man snorted, hands already moving in an unconscious dance for the next mix of drinks.
“Don’t ya forget!” the girl sassed, tossing a wink, and leaving with the shot glasses precariously balanced on the round serving tray, weaving expertly through the crowded bar with almost feline grace.
More than just the barkeep’s eyes followed that pleather clad derriere on her rounds, and the barkeep grunted again.
The night was looking up.
~~~
Much later that night, or early in the morning, if you wanted to get technical, that same guy and that same girl were relaxing against the railings of the fire escape that made up a ‘balcony’ in the dingy little motel they shared a room at.
Neither seemed to mind that there was barely enough room for them both, nor did they seem to mind that occasionally an arm or a leg would touch, though they made sure nothing showed on their faces. Not even when those soft brushes brought something almost electrical, primal pulling in their guts and lower. Yet in spite of this, they sat in comfortable silence, allowing the worries and events of the day and work night meander around in their thoughts, absorbing it all.
The air seemed charged as only it did before it rained, and the soft rumblings and wind that increased with each new passing only heralded the coming storm.
“What do you call working all night in a dirty, crowded, noisy, smelly bar serving drinks and little baskets of peanuts compared to your former job of working all night in a crowded, noisy, sometimes smelly diner serving overfried, overgreased, overpriced tourist trap food?” the guy suddenly asked, turning around to stare at his companion.
“A vacation,” was the immediate response, and she slid her gaze sideways to catch his amused look.
“Really?” an eyebrow quirked up even as a forefinger reached upward to claw at it in an unconscious gesture which fast was becoming dear.
“Well, compared to where I come from perfecting death it is.”
“Only you,” he shook his head, but the now ever present smile kept tugging at his lips despite the grim subject matter.
“Yeah, only me,” she giggled, snuggling up under one muscular arm to cuddle against his warmth, enjoying the contrast of the mini inferno she was sheltered against to the brisk, damp chill of the San Francisco morning.
Both were enjoying this quiet before the storm that they knew was almost upon them.
And yes, this one is shorter than the others, but I think it's brilliant just the way it is. There will be more I promise you!Title: Vacation, Shelter
Author: Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Genre: Crossover, Prompt #27, #28
Disclaimer: Roswell and Dark Angel do not belong to me but their respective creators (Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, Cameron, Eglee, Fox, WB, etc)
Summary: The journey begins. Next in I,Soldier series.
Rating: MATURE
~~~
Vacation, Shelter
~~~
Amber colored liquid sloshed in rhythm as the dark colored glass twirled between nimble fingers, and then the glass was airborne, twisting and cart-wheeling like an Olympic gymnast to mount gracefully –safely- into steady hands. A flick of the wrist and a slight pressure at the nozzle and the same amber liquid found itself molding to the contours of its new glassy domains, clear thick cut crystal shot glasses that added a glimmer of sparkle not entirely due to the harsh liquor.
“Order up!” was bellowed in a gruff voice to match the smoky décor of the bar atmosphere.
“Show off!” an amused voice purred in a teasing tone.
“Learned from the best,” a smirk passed between the two, a waitress in tight pleather pants and a loose red and white handkerchief halter top that completely covered her neck and the barkeep a shaggy haired six foot tower of lean muscle in a tight black tee, washed out jeans, and a hawk’s nose.
“Long as ya knows ya betters,” the girl bobbed her head in agreement of her own words, a smirk just as arrogant as her male counterparts freely upon her lips.
“Like you’d let me forget,” the man snorted, hands already moving in an unconscious dance for the next mix of drinks.
“Don’t ya forget!” the girl sassed, tossing a wink, and leaving with the shot glasses precariously balanced on the round serving tray, weaving expertly through the crowded bar with almost feline grace.
More than just the barkeep’s eyes followed that pleather clad derriere on her rounds, and the barkeep grunted again.
The night was looking up.
~~~
Much later that night, or early in the morning, if you wanted to get technical, that same guy and that same girl were relaxing against the railings of the fire escape that made up a ‘balcony’ in the dingy little motel they shared a room at.
Neither seemed to mind that there was barely enough room for them both, nor did they seem to mind that occasionally an arm or a leg would touch, though they made sure nothing showed on their faces. Not even when those soft brushes brought something almost electrical, primal pulling in their guts and lower. Yet in spite of this, they sat in comfortable silence, allowing the worries and events of the day and work night meander around in their thoughts, absorbing it all.
The air seemed charged as only it did before it rained, and the soft rumblings and wind that increased with each new passing only heralded the coming storm.
“What do you call working all night in a dirty, crowded, noisy, smelly bar serving drinks and little baskets of peanuts compared to your former job of working all night in a crowded, noisy, sometimes smelly diner serving overfried, overgreased, overpriced tourist trap food?” the guy suddenly asked, turning around to stare at his companion.
“A vacation,” was the immediate response, and she slid her gaze sideways to catch his amused look.
“Really?” an eyebrow quirked up even as a forefinger reached upward to claw at it in an unconscious gesture which fast was becoming dear.
“Well, compared to where I come from perfecting death it is.”
“Only you,” he shook his head, but the now ever present smile kept tugging at his lips despite the grim subject matter.
“Yeah, only me,” she giggled, snuggling up under one muscular arm to cuddle against his warmth, enjoying the contrast of the mini inferno she was sheltered against to the brisk, damp chill of the San Francisco morning.
Both were enjoying this quiet before the storm that they knew was almost upon them.
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KiaraAlexisKlay
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- Posts: 216
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Re: I,Soldier (UC, MATURE, DA xover) Ch4 5/2
To Forgive is Divine; To Forget is Out of the Question
By Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Genre: Crossover; Prompt 29,30
Disclaimer: Not Mine, not Roswell who belongs to Metz and Katims, not Dark Angel whom Cameron and Eglee hold hostage at Fox. And not even the stupid prompts are mine, they are part of the Polar Attraction Polar Drabble thread.
Summary: Those who ask forgiveness never met my big brother, Zack.
Rating: MATURE for definite language.
Pairing: Polar
A/N: the main POV is Michael in this ficlet. Wait, I think he’s the only POV in this chapter. Huh…
~~~
To Forgive Is Divine; To Forget is Out of The Question
~~~
It’s a good thing I’m so stubborn and my pride wouldn’t let me back down from anything; it has a tendency to piss people off and keep them away from me, which was the desired effect. However, that stubbornness and pride wouldn’t let me turn tail and beat a tactical retreat when I met Big Brother for the first time. That’s right, Big Brother, first letters capped. Big Brother, the Protector, Leader, Commanding Officer. The Big Kahuna, The Big Cheese, Senior Presidente, The Man…all the above, all capitalized, all important.
Liz just calls him Zack.
The many years spent dealing with Hank, Max, and Isabel and being Maria DeLuca’s most consistent verbal and physical punching bag had inured him to such intimidation tactics. Mostly. At least, that’s what I thought, until I met Zack, X5-599, Commanding Officer and Surrogate Big Brother to one Jondy, X5-210. Jondy will always be Little Liz Parker, though by no means do I think her mousy or weak, oh no. I still can’t believe it sometimes, that the smallest of small town girls who has always been my surrogate brother’s love-lust obsession since conscious thinking, turned out to be not so smallest of small town girls.
None of them, not Hank’s drunken cruelty, not Isabel’s coldness, Maria’s incessant bulldog whininess, Tess’s superior attitude, or Max’s so called authority and anal need to control as our so called king and leader had anything on the six plus mass of blond muscled transgenic currently making me feel like a specimen in a cage to be destroyed.
“You were supposed to come alone, Jondy,” her growled –yes growled!- still holding my gaze. “And you are late.”
Cold, husky eyes stared at me beneath a neutral stonewall mask of barely veiled disdain, taking my measure as I was taking his. Somehow I felt lacking, not meeting up with the Brother’s standards, and it served to erase all uneasiness and leave one emotion.
I was pissed.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been made to feel like shit and not worthy of someone, I’ve felt that nearly every damn day of my existence that I could remember, and it won’t likely be the last time. He pissed me off, and even further, when the Brother completely dismissed me and turned those eyes to his sister standing by my side like I didn’t rate.
That rankled…a lot.
The angry words bubbled in my mouth, and before I could launch the sarcastic attack the words were frozen in my throat as I observed something I’d only seen Max’s eyes do: they softened ever so, for a moment, as they rested upon his sister, Liz.
In that second before the mask was raised once more, I saw the affection, devotion, loyalty, and even a bit of love aimed toward Liz, who seemed to lap it up like a starving woman. It was a look of tenderness toward all of his unit, his pack, his family. And in that moment, I saw myself, protective over Max and Isabel and Tess, my own kind, from all threats that came from those not one of us.
It was humbling, it was humiliating. It was damn annoying. I wanted to be pissed, damnit, I wasn’t supposed to emphasize!
And damned if I didn’t feel for a second what the humans must have felt when we closed ranks, shutting them out, and leaving them to face the repercussions of our very existence without our support. I was going to owe the three an apology of sorts.
Damn.
But Liz, or Jondy as her family insist on calling her, was more in tune with me than I’d thought. Or perhaps even after all these years she still knew her big brother and commanding officer better than I’d expect. As if she could sense what I or Zack was feeling, thinking, she narrowed her eyes at Big Brother in a way I’d seen her look at Max and I knew meant she was pissed and she wouldn’t budge. Nothing, not even one of Max’s ‘soulful’ pleadings would move her when Liz Parker got that look
Oh, joy, entertainment!
“Don’t give Michael that look Zack,” she warned in a deceptively calm voice. Before I’d gotten to know her, I thought that tone meant she was trying to keep herself together from falling apart, and in a way it was. It was the calm before the storm unleashed her fury, giving those gathered time to hide.
Cute that she was mad on my account, unnecessary, but a little appreciated…not that I’d admit to it.
Liz continued taking a step forward and unconsciously shifting as if to protect me, placing me under her circle of protected, of those she watched over.
“And I’m not late, you know damned well that the time you gave me was earlier than what was necessary, so I took that time to make an extra stop to come prepared.”
Liz was now close enough that she could have invaded Zack’s personal space, but she held herself just that far enough away that she wasn’t too aggressively in his face, she was smarter than that. He could flatten her like a pizza with one swipe of his hands.
It wasn’t until Liz was close enough to him that I realized suddenly the difference in their height and I had to hold back both a laugh and a groan. Zack was taller than me by a good inch or two given a flat hair day on my part, and much bulkier, sturdier built like a tank. I, who tower over Liz, saw that it was like throwing Frisky the Cuddly Kitten against Sher Khan the Tiger.
And Frisky was winning.
“This is unacceptable,” Zack gritted out, arms crossing over his chest, suddenly seeming to just loom over Liz.
“I wasn’t asking for forgiveness, Zack. Blue Lady knows I don’t think God does Divine intervention for the freak show experiments.”
Zack’s jaw clenched in time with his fists, and I stepped forward to flank Liz, her being caught between us like a mini book between two oversized book ends, but I wasn’t going to let Liz take the heat for something I did.
“That’s enough, Catwalk Fever, I followed Lizit’s not her fault.”
Chillingly furious husky eyes met pissed off whiskey colored eyes in challenge and Liz grumbled in her throat at the alpha male posturing, forgotten in the heat of the moment.
“Jondy is one of the best we have at Escape and Evade; you couldn’t have followed her unless she decided to let you,” Zack pointed out what Michael had known and suspected.
“This is ridiculous, Zack. Michael’s here for me, not the mission, so can the attitude. And you,” Liz turned to me, giving me a mix of a glare and pleading glance, “Try and avoid getting in a pissing contest with my brother okay? We need him to keep this circus act together. Ai’ight? Now, where are the rest of my sibkyn?”
How could I resist it when she looked at me like that?
“Over here Baby Girl,” a young man with Liz’s skin tone and a narrow oval face with a thatch of dark brown hair in fatigue trousers and a black tee called out, an elfin blond with straight hair down to mid back in an oversize army surplus jacket and khaki cargos keeping pace beside him.
“Krit! Syl!” Liz’s face just seemed to light up, and I realized then that the Liz we’d known really was a façade, for never have I seen such open, genuine emotion light her up like that. It made what she showed for Max a pale, cheap imitation.
“Who are you calling ‘baby girl?’ We’re the same age!” she laughed, catching one of her long lost siblings in a fierce embrace. Krit, her brother, lifted her up almost three feet in the air, hugging her like there was no tomorrow. And with this bunch, there really might be no tomorrow I realized with a sinking heart.
“Yeah, but I’m older.”
“By forty-five seconds!”
“Forty-five seconds longer than you been in the world, Jondy,” he smirked.
“Let me hug her, too, Fool,” the little blonde at his side rolled her eyes, punching Krit’s shoulder.
“No, she’s mine,” and Krit twisted his body away, taking a laughing Liz with him, who waved at her sister over her brother’s shoulder where her arms were about his neck.
Syl reached a hand out, and the sisters held each other’s hands over Krit's shoulder, sharing one of those female looks that said anything and everything and guys were just clueless. Girls could have an entire conversation with one look.
Krit finally put his sister down, Liz giggling all the while, one hand stroking his cheek while the other was still holding on to Syl, who used it tug her sister into a warm hug. I noticed that Liz and Syl was it? they were about the same height, though since Liz wore her biker boots and Syl looked to have on some Docs it was hard to judge accurately.
“Are all your sisters as short as you, Parker?” I quirked an eyebrow, resisting the urge to claw at it, and smirked at the indignant yet playful pout she tossed my way.
“Hey now, watch it Guerin,” she huffed back, mocha eyes flashing in warning.
“No, you should see Tinga, though Brin was only slightly taller than Jondy and Syl. And if Max takes after me, than she’ll be pretty tall too, about 5’9’’ or so,” Krit volunteered despite Big Brother’s warning glare.
I liked Krit. Reminds me of well…me. Made me feel better about him, despite the fact that his arms were now draped across both ‘sister’s shoulders in a casual claim of familiarity.
I noticed that they touched a lot, little caresses or touches to what skin was showing, a rub across the upper arm or bumping thighs against one another…a pack becoming reacquainted through tactile contact. They were gaining comfort and strength from those little bonds.
Then my brain caught up with me and spilled through my mouth.
“You have a sister named Max?”
~~~
By Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Genre: Crossover; Prompt 29,30
Disclaimer: Not Mine, not Roswell who belongs to Metz and Katims, not Dark Angel whom Cameron and Eglee hold hostage at Fox. And not even the stupid prompts are mine, they are part of the Polar Attraction Polar Drabble thread.
Summary: Those who ask forgiveness never met my big brother, Zack.
Rating: MATURE for definite language.
Pairing: Polar
A/N: the main POV is Michael in this ficlet. Wait, I think he’s the only POV in this chapter. Huh…
~~~
To Forgive Is Divine; To Forget is Out of The Question
~~~
It’s a good thing I’m so stubborn and my pride wouldn’t let me back down from anything; it has a tendency to piss people off and keep them away from me, which was the desired effect. However, that stubbornness and pride wouldn’t let me turn tail and beat a tactical retreat when I met Big Brother for the first time. That’s right, Big Brother, first letters capped. Big Brother, the Protector, Leader, Commanding Officer. The Big Kahuna, The Big Cheese, Senior Presidente, The Man…all the above, all capitalized, all important.
Liz just calls him Zack.
The many years spent dealing with Hank, Max, and Isabel and being Maria DeLuca’s most consistent verbal and physical punching bag had inured him to such intimidation tactics. Mostly. At least, that’s what I thought, until I met Zack, X5-599, Commanding Officer and Surrogate Big Brother to one Jondy, X5-210. Jondy will always be Little Liz Parker, though by no means do I think her mousy or weak, oh no. I still can’t believe it sometimes, that the smallest of small town girls who has always been my surrogate brother’s love-lust obsession since conscious thinking, turned out to be not so smallest of small town girls.
None of them, not Hank’s drunken cruelty, not Isabel’s coldness, Maria’s incessant bulldog whininess, Tess’s superior attitude, or Max’s so called authority and anal need to control as our so called king and leader had anything on the six plus mass of blond muscled transgenic currently making me feel like a specimen in a cage to be destroyed.
“You were supposed to come alone, Jondy,” her growled –yes growled!- still holding my gaze. “And you are late.”
Cold, husky eyes stared at me beneath a neutral stonewall mask of barely veiled disdain, taking my measure as I was taking his. Somehow I felt lacking, not meeting up with the Brother’s standards, and it served to erase all uneasiness and leave one emotion.
I was pissed.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been made to feel like shit and not worthy of someone, I’ve felt that nearly every damn day of my existence that I could remember, and it won’t likely be the last time. He pissed me off, and even further, when the Brother completely dismissed me and turned those eyes to his sister standing by my side like I didn’t rate.
That rankled…a lot.
The angry words bubbled in my mouth, and before I could launch the sarcastic attack the words were frozen in my throat as I observed something I’d only seen Max’s eyes do: they softened ever so, for a moment, as they rested upon his sister, Liz.
In that second before the mask was raised once more, I saw the affection, devotion, loyalty, and even a bit of love aimed toward Liz, who seemed to lap it up like a starving woman. It was a look of tenderness toward all of his unit, his pack, his family. And in that moment, I saw myself, protective over Max and Isabel and Tess, my own kind, from all threats that came from those not one of us.
It was humbling, it was humiliating. It was damn annoying. I wanted to be pissed, damnit, I wasn’t supposed to emphasize!
And damned if I didn’t feel for a second what the humans must have felt when we closed ranks, shutting them out, and leaving them to face the repercussions of our very existence without our support. I was going to owe the three an apology of sorts.
Damn.
But Liz, or Jondy as her family insist on calling her, was more in tune with me than I’d thought. Or perhaps even after all these years she still knew her big brother and commanding officer better than I’d expect. As if she could sense what I or Zack was feeling, thinking, she narrowed her eyes at Big Brother in a way I’d seen her look at Max and I knew meant she was pissed and she wouldn’t budge. Nothing, not even one of Max’s ‘soulful’ pleadings would move her when Liz Parker got that look
Oh, joy, entertainment!
“Don’t give Michael that look Zack,” she warned in a deceptively calm voice. Before I’d gotten to know her, I thought that tone meant she was trying to keep herself together from falling apart, and in a way it was. It was the calm before the storm unleashed her fury, giving those gathered time to hide.
Cute that she was mad on my account, unnecessary, but a little appreciated…not that I’d admit to it.
Liz continued taking a step forward and unconsciously shifting as if to protect me, placing me under her circle of protected, of those she watched over.
“And I’m not late, you know damned well that the time you gave me was earlier than what was necessary, so I took that time to make an extra stop to come prepared.”
Liz was now close enough that she could have invaded Zack’s personal space, but she held herself just that far enough away that she wasn’t too aggressively in his face, she was smarter than that. He could flatten her like a pizza with one swipe of his hands.
It wasn’t until Liz was close enough to him that I realized suddenly the difference in their height and I had to hold back both a laugh and a groan. Zack was taller than me by a good inch or two given a flat hair day on my part, and much bulkier, sturdier built like a tank. I, who tower over Liz, saw that it was like throwing Frisky the Cuddly Kitten against Sher Khan the Tiger.
And Frisky was winning.
“This is unacceptable,” Zack gritted out, arms crossing over his chest, suddenly seeming to just loom over Liz.
“I wasn’t asking for forgiveness, Zack. Blue Lady knows I don’t think God does Divine intervention for the freak show experiments.”
Zack’s jaw clenched in time with his fists, and I stepped forward to flank Liz, her being caught between us like a mini book between two oversized book ends, but I wasn’t going to let Liz take the heat for something I did.
“That’s enough, Catwalk Fever, I followed Lizit’s not her fault.”
Chillingly furious husky eyes met pissed off whiskey colored eyes in challenge and Liz grumbled in her throat at the alpha male posturing, forgotten in the heat of the moment.
“Jondy is one of the best we have at Escape and Evade; you couldn’t have followed her unless she decided to let you,” Zack pointed out what Michael had known and suspected.
“This is ridiculous, Zack. Michael’s here for me, not the mission, so can the attitude. And you,” Liz turned to me, giving me a mix of a glare and pleading glance, “Try and avoid getting in a pissing contest with my brother okay? We need him to keep this circus act together. Ai’ight? Now, where are the rest of my sibkyn?”
How could I resist it when she looked at me like that?
“Over here Baby Girl,” a young man with Liz’s skin tone and a narrow oval face with a thatch of dark brown hair in fatigue trousers and a black tee called out, an elfin blond with straight hair down to mid back in an oversize army surplus jacket and khaki cargos keeping pace beside him.
“Krit! Syl!” Liz’s face just seemed to light up, and I realized then that the Liz we’d known really was a façade, for never have I seen such open, genuine emotion light her up like that. It made what she showed for Max a pale, cheap imitation.
“Who are you calling ‘baby girl?’ We’re the same age!” she laughed, catching one of her long lost siblings in a fierce embrace. Krit, her brother, lifted her up almost three feet in the air, hugging her like there was no tomorrow. And with this bunch, there really might be no tomorrow I realized with a sinking heart.
“Yeah, but I’m older.”
“By forty-five seconds!”
“Forty-five seconds longer than you been in the world, Jondy,” he smirked.
“Let me hug her, too, Fool,” the little blonde at his side rolled her eyes, punching Krit’s shoulder.
“No, she’s mine,” and Krit twisted his body away, taking a laughing Liz with him, who waved at her sister over her brother’s shoulder where her arms were about his neck.
Syl reached a hand out, and the sisters held each other’s hands over Krit's shoulder, sharing one of those female looks that said anything and everything and guys were just clueless. Girls could have an entire conversation with one look.
Krit finally put his sister down, Liz giggling all the while, one hand stroking his cheek while the other was still holding on to Syl, who used it tug her sister into a warm hug. I noticed that Liz and Syl was it? they were about the same height, though since Liz wore her biker boots and Syl looked to have on some Docs it was hard to judge accurately.
“Are all your sisters as short as you, Parker?” I quirked an eyebrow, resisting the urge to claw at it, and smirked at the indignant yet playful pout she tossed my way.
“Hey now, watch it Guerin,” she huffed back, mocha eyes flashing in warning.
“No, you should see Tinga, though Brin was only slightly taller than Jondy and Syl. And if Max takes after me, than she’ll be pretty tall too, about 5’9’’ or so,” Krit volunteered despite Big Brother’s warning glare.
I liked Krit. Reminds me of well…me. Made me feel better about him, despite the fact that his arms were now draped across both ‘sister’s shoulders in a casual claim of familiarity.
I noticed that they touched a lot, little caresses or touches to what skin was showing, a rub across the upper arm or bumping thighs against one another…a pack becoming reacquainted through tactile contact. They were gaining comfort and strength from those little bonds.
Then my brain caught up with me and spilled through my mouth.
“You have a sister named Max?”
~~~
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