Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17 L/S/V
Author note: As Zan becomes a larger presence in this story, I can’t stress enough here that he is not the spiky haired, face pierced, street punk you saw in MTD. This Zan is older, meaner, and looks a hell of a lot more like Future Max. No piercings on this Zan.
Zan lovers should proceed with caution.
This part is short, but that's just the way the chapter flowed.
Aftermath
Part 30
Zan prowled the dingy apartment in the dead hours of the morning while the others slept. His boots barely made a sound on the worn carpet, an instinct born of necessity over the years of stalking his victims. No one ever saw him coming, not until it was too late.
He couldn’t sleep tonight, which wasn’t anything new for him. He rarely slept more than three or four hours a night. His restlessness was rooted in his need to get on the road again, to feel the wind in his hair, the sun on his face, the power of the Harley between his legs.
But most of all, he was anxious to stalk his next victim. To feel the adrenaline surge through his veins during the hunt. To smell the target’s fear. To feel the life drain out of him . . . or her.
He dropped down onto a threadbare chair by the window, with a shaft of moonlight illuminating his chiseled chest. A tattoo covered his left pectoral muscle, a swirling symbol of a world he’d never seen, and never would. He didn’t care about that world though. He didn’t care about anything, except the next mission. It was the only reason he existed.
He lifted his foot to the table in front of him and nudged the silver orb with the tip of his boot. He’d been surprised by the target this time. He was accustomed to tracking scientists and military types, not a wet behind the ear teenager, but a target was a target. He’d been hoping for a challenge this time, someone worthy of the hunt, but instead it was just a girl. How dangerous could she be?
But then again, there was something there, something in those dark eyes of hers, something that made him –
“Fuck it,” he rose to his feet, restlessly moving around the room. He absently stroked his hand along the front of his jeans, feeling the fullness there, the ache that needed to be relieved. He thought about waking Ava, but instinctively knew that wouldn’t satisfy him this time. He needed something more.
Someone more . . .
* * * * *
Liz turned over in her sleep, smiling, in the midst of a pleasant dream . . .
“Can I tempt you with anything else?” she smiled, with her pencil hovering over the order pad. “Martian Mudd pie? Stargate cheesecake? Moonbeam ice cream?”
“Are you on the menu?” Max ran his hand up the back of her leg, inching above the lower hem of her uniform, then pulled her down onto his lap, smiling at the surprised look on her face. “Let’s go somewhere,” he nuzzled her ear. “Somewhere private . . .”
“Upstairs?” she bit her lower lip, holding back a sigh. “My parents are gone –”
Max rose to his feet in a snap, pulling her up with him. She’d never seen him move so fast. She linked her hand into his, dragging him into the back room.
She pushed through the swinging door and felt his hand tighten around hers, turning rougher, stronger, dominating. He swung her around and pressed her against the wall.
“Here’s good enough,” his lips swept down to kiss hers.
He stole her breath with the intensity of it, making her knees weak, but there was something else there as well. Something dark. Something dangerous. Something frightening. The kiss turned harsh.
Liz tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her. His tongue demanded entrance into her mouth, his arm tightened painfully around her hips, his body pressed her hard against the wall. A flash filled her mind, full of blackness and discordant sounds, sending fear slashing down her spine.
She pushed him away, struggling to breathe, staring at his black eyes.
“You’re not Max . . .”
Liz bolted out of the dream with a gasp. She struggled to breathe, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. The dream – the nightmare – hadn’t been so bad, not like the nightmares Max lived with, but the memories it brought back were. For a moment, she was back in that car with the shapeshifter pretending to be Max, seeing the alien hiding inside when she kissed him. It’d been horrifying then, and the memory of it hadn’t changed.
A chilling thought hit her and she reached for the phone, dialing the number without thinking about what time it was. When it was answered on the other end, she was relieved to hear his familiar voice.
“Liz?”
“How’d you know it was me?”
“Caller ID,” Kyle snarked before turning serious. “Why are you calling so late? Is something else wrong?”
Liz clutched the phone tightly. “Is Tess asleep?”
“What?” he held out the phone and stared at it before putting it back to his ear.
“Is T –”
“I heard you,” Kyle cut her off. “No,” he looked at Tess sitting across the table from him, with a cup of coffee between her hands. “We’re awake. Who can sleep after the night we’ve had? Buddha’s teachings don’t quite prepare you for dealing with an alien disintegrating in your bedroom.”
“Kyle,” Liz sighed. She felt bad that all this was happening to him, and responsible for pulling him into it. At the same time, she was relieved to know that Tess wasn’t trying to dreamwalk her. The nightmare hadn’t come from her. She felt a brief pang of guilt for feeling so suspicious, but she doubted she could ever really trust Tess.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. No, nothing. I just . . . no. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“It’s okay,” Kyle shrugged. He hung up the phone when Liz said goodbye and sat back down at the table.
“Liz?” Tess asked, and Kyle nodded. Her hands clutched the coffee cup tighter. “Something wrong?”
“When isn’t something wrong when you guys are involved?”
The look on her face made Kyle instantly regret his snappish remark. He was tired, and scared of all this alien shit, but that was no excuse for acting like a jerk.
“Maybe . . . maybe it would be better if I left –”
“No,” Kyle reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way.”
She bit at her lip and her chin started to quiver. Her protector was dead. She’d killed him. She hated him, hated what he was, hated what he made her do, but still, she’d spent her whole life with him.
Kyle saw her shoulders start to shake. “No. Don’t do that.” He hated it when girls cried. She sniffled. Oh, God. Now she was sniffling.
“I’m sorry . . .” her voice wavered. A tear spilled onto her cheek, then another.
“No. Really,” Kyle shook his head. “You don’t want to do that.” Aliens weren’t supposed to cry, were they? Wasn’t that a rule or something? Where were the other girls when he needed them?
Tess let out a sob and her hands rose to cover her face.
“Aw, shit,” Kyle looked around the room, ready to run. He wasn’t any good at this. He got up and circled around the table, kneeling beside her. He hesitantly patted her on the back. “Don’t cry.”
Tess leaned her head against his shoulder and sobbed, a flood of tears soaking into his shirt, the first real release of honest human emotions she’d ever really had.
“It’s okay,” Kyle tried to soothe her. He stroked his hand down the back of her head, trying to make her feel better. “It’ll be okay.”
This long night was getting longer by the minute, but Tess needed a friend right now, and Kyle was going to be there for her, even if he sucked at it.
* * * * *
Liz stared at the clock on her nightstand wondering if she’d ever get back to sleep tonight. The dream had left her feeling uneasy, but she didn’t know why. After all, it’d been about Max, and her dreams about Max had always been pleasant ones . . . at least until now.
She turned over on her back, and then her side, tucking her legs up close to her chest. She supposed she’d have to tell Max about it in the morning, but she wasn’t going to wake him tonight, especially after she’d finally convinced him to go home and spend the night in his own bed. It’d been a rough few weeks for all of them, especially Max, and they all needed rest.
She thought about Tess, hating her for the things she’d done to Max, manipulating his dreams, and changing his memories, but one good thing had come out of it. Max had learned how to feel her mindwarping him, and learned how to turn it back on her. It wasn’t a power she thought he’d ever abuse, Max just wasn’t the type to use that against people, but he could protect himself now, and that was good.
It didn’t make Liz worry any less, though. Tess had a long way to go, and a lot of things to make up for, before she’d ever trust her.
After what felt like an eternity, Liz’s eyelids began to grow heavy, and sleep soon followed. But it wasn’t restful sleep, and her dreams weren’t sweet. On the contrary . . .
Liz wandered around the mirror maze desperately trying to find the way out. She could sense Max somewhere near, but each turn was empty, with a blank mirror staring back at her. In frustration, she pounded her fist on another dead end.
“Max! Where are you, Max?”
“Liz?” his voice echoed all around her, but she couldn’t see him.
“Here!” she shouted, but his voice only grew more distant.
“Liz?”
She could barely hear him at all now. She moved faster, trying to follow the sound. “Max? Max! This way. Over here!”
The sound of a motorcycle engine drifted in from outside, followed by another, and then another, until the sound filled the mirror maze, drowning out almost everything else. She couldn’t hear Max at all anymore.
“Max!” Liz cried in desperation.
“I’m here,” his voice came from behind her, but when she turned, he wasn’t there.
“Here!” his voice came from her right, and then from her left. A hand touched her on the back and she spun around in fright, expecting to see some alien monster, but it was Max, smiling at her in that special way of his.
“Thank God,” Liz threw her arms around his neck, but she hit the mirror instead. It shattered, but he wasn’t on the other side.
“This way,” Liz felt his familiar hand grab hers and he pulled her through the maze.
They burst through into the crisp night air, with Max dragging her forward, urgently trying to escape. They ran into an old bus, but when she turned around, it wasn’t Max she saw at all. It was a nightmare from a carnival, a clown in grease paint, a thing hiding behind a mask.
It kissed her, its painted lips familiar, but not. She reeled back, but the clown was gone, replaced by another Max, a different Max, even more menacing than before. His long hair hung around his weathered face, aged well beyond his 17 years. His lips took hers in a forceful kiss, swallowing her into a black hole of nothingness, before letting go.
His mouth curved up in a sneer as he proclaimed, “I’m coming for you, Liz. I’m coming for you. I’m coming for you, Liz. I’m coming for you. I’m coming for you, Liz. I’m coming for you –”
Liz bolted awake, even more frightened than from the last dream. Her heart raced in her chest, constricting her lungs until she thought she couldn’t breathe. She’d lived through this before, even though there were subtle differences. It wasn’t exactly a dream, but it wasn’t a memory, either. She didn’t know how to describe it.
She pulled back her covers knowing only one thing was important. She had to get to Max. She’d be safe with him. She didn’t even bother changing from her pajamas as she scrambled over to the window and eased it open. She climbed out on to her balcony, with thoughts of Max leading her way.
* * * * *
Smoke drifted up from the cigarette between his fingers, the orange tip the only color in the dark room. It glowed brightly as he took a long drag, filling his lungs with the satisfying smoke, and then slowly letting it out. The nicotine flowed through his system, though it did nothing to calm him.
He lived on the edge, on the periphery of society, a born predator with only one reason for being. He’d come into this world as a man, alone, with no ties to anyone except the three people sleeping in the next room, and he could kill them at a moment’s notice, if that’s what his orders said. His Unit was undermanned; the other half lost in planetfall, but what his team lacked in numbers was made up for by the force of his will and the viciousness of his nature. He was in charge, and no one ever crossed him.
He was a killing machine, without remorse, without compunction, a soldier without a soul. It was a job he was born and bred for, and he did it well.
Zan rose from the chair with that sense of restlessness growing stronger. He paused by the window, looking toward the west, with the first streaks of dawn coloring the sky behind him. It would be daylight soon, and his journey would begin.
His hand pressed against the dingy windowpane, but it wasn’t the morning sky that filled his vision. The image in his mind was sharp and crystal clear, burned into his brain the moment it was released from the orb. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as his heart.
“I’m coming for you Liz Parker. I’m coming for you . . .”
TBC . . .
Aftermath (ML / Adult) (Complete)
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Breathless
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Aftermath Part 30
Last edited by Breathless on Sun Aug 31, 2003 10:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Breathless
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 254
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: Somewhere in ficland
Aftermath Part 31
Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17 S
Author note: A lot of stuff has been happening to my Max and Liz over the last few parts, so I wanted to give them a break this week. A sweet interlude. I thought they deserved a little enjoyable alone time. I didn't intend to have a nookie part in both Aftermath and A Walk in the Park within the same week, but that's just how the stories flowed.
Thanks for all the fabulous feedback!
Aftermath
Part 31
Max lay on his bed with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. So many things had happened in the past month, his mind couldn’t shut down. Getting captured by the FBI, the torture in the White Room, escaping, spending the night in the old van and making love to Liz, the incident at the lake where he’d almost killed her, his panicked decision to run and then that incredible afternoon right here in his room when they made love again, and the secrets of his very existence became clear. It’d been the worst month, and the best month of his life, all in one.
He felt her presence before he heard the tap on his window. He was out of bed in a flash, drawing the curtain aside and peering out into the night. She stood just beyond the glass with her arms crossed over her chest like she was cold.
“Liz?” Max opened the window, letting in the warm night air. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His gaze swept over the landscape beyond her, but the night was quiet. Not even a breeze stirred the trees.
“Can I come in?” she looked up at him pleadingly.
Max noticed the way she shivered, which made no sense on a warm summer night like this. He reached out his hand to help her through the window, pulling her into his arms once she was safely inside.
“Tell me what happened,” he demanded, feeling her trembling.
“I had a bad dream,” Liz dropped her head, feeling foolish now. She’d run all the way over here in the dark, in her pajamas, just because of a silly nightmare.
“What kind of dream?” Max lifted her chin. She shouldn’t be out at night. It wasn’t safe.
Liz looked up at him, not wanting to talk about it, but isn’t that what she always urged him to do? Talk about it, instead of keeping it all inside? After all, it was only a nightmare. A memory of the past.
“I was in the mirror maze, trying to find you. I could hear your voice, but I couldn’t see you. When I did, we ran outside into the bus, but it wasn’t really you. It was . . .”
“It was Ed Harding pretending to be me, wasn’t it?” Max said gently. She nodded and lowered her head.
“He said he was coming for me,” Liz shivered, remembering the cold tone of his voice.
“He’s gone,” Max ran his hands lightly up and down her arms trying to warm her. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” It wasn’t surprising that she’d have bad dreams about the shapeshifter tonight, and the things Harding had done to her. He’d lost track of how many nightmares he’d had of that night, getting captured in the mirror maze, and everything that happened after.
“Will you just hold me?” Liz turned her dark eyes up to him.
Max pulled her into his bare chest. He looked around his room and then nodded toward his bed. “You wanna lie down?”
Liz nodded and Max led her to his bed, letting her slide in between the sheets first, then following after. They settled under the covers, Max on his back with Liz tucked into his side, her head resting on the right side of his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Liz traced a finger along the center of his chest. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Liz,” Max cupped her face with his hand. “Don’t be sorry. I wasn’t asleep. Besides, this is where you belong. Someday, I hope it will always be this way. You and me,” his fingers stroked through her hair. “Like this.”
“Really?” Liz lifted her head from his chest, looking deeply into his reassuring eyes.
“Really,” he smiled at her, relieved to see that her trembling was subsiding.
“Me, too,” she sighed. The warmth of his bed relaxed her and eased her troubled mind. She fought back a yawn, but it was a losing battle.
“Go to sleep,” Max tucked her head back against his chest. “I’ll keep you safe.”
She was always keeping him safe. This time he would do that for her. Their hands twined together, both taking and seeking comfort in the other. He silently wondered how bad her dream could have been, to force her out of her home in the dead of night, but he had plenty of personal experience on that front. He hoped her nightmares were nothing like his.
* * * * *
Max lay on his right side with his elbow bent and his head propped up on his hand, watching Liz as she slept. She looked peaceful now, warm and comfortable in his bed. It’d been a fantasy of his for years, to have her here like this.
His fingers lightly touched her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin felt. How silky smooth. He ran his fingertips across her lips, wanting to kiss her but not wanting to wake her. She stirred slightly, sighing softly.
Max removed his fingers from her face, but only to move them down to her throat, resting them lightly on the vein that pulsed with her life’s blood. The beat was slow and steady, relaxed in sleep, just what she needed. His hand moved along her shoulder, needing to touch her, feeling his desire growing.
The strap of her tank top had fallen from her shoulder as she slept and Max hooked his finger around it with the intension of lifting it back into place. Instead, acting with a mind of its own, his hand gently inched it lower, exposing the upper mound of her breast. He tugged a little harder, causing his respirations to rise as the rosy shade of her nipple came into view. He swallowed hard knowing he shouldn’t be doing this, not while she slept, but helpless to stop it. She was too beautiful to keep covered.
The length of his index finger slid along the underside of her right breast, caressing her skin intimately. He watched in fascination as her nipple hardened before his very eyes, puckering, rising to a sharp peak. He was still new at this, learning the reactions of her body to his touch, marveling at the wonder of it, but his own answering hardness was commonplace. The ache in his loins he’d been feeling for years, every time he thought of her while lying on this bed. On any other night he would have relieved that ache with his hand, but tonight the ache intensified, unsatisfied.
He touched the tip of her nipple with his fingertip, biting back the urge to taste her with his tongue. Would she be upset with him if he did? Would she think him a pervert for violating her in her sleep? Would she think he was just like all the other guys, only interested in sex? He loved her mind as much as her body, and oh god, what a body it was. His fantasies had never been this good.
He shifted uncomfortably, but that ache wasn’t going away. On the contrary, it was growing stronger, just like that part of his body was growing. Lengthening. Thickening. Throbbing.
A groan unintentionally escaped his lips and he looked up to make sure he hadn’t disturbed her, only to be shocked at the sight of her dark eyes open and staring back at him. His cheeks flushed with color while his hand tried to lift her tank top back into place.
“Liz, I . . .” he stuttered. “I didn’t mean . . .”
“Don’t be afraid to touch me,” her hand covered his and held him against her breast.
Her words were familiar, an echo of what he had once told her, and he relaxed at once, sensing how welcome his touch was, just as hers had been that morning in the van.
“Can I . . .” he swallowed hard, shifting his eyes from her face to her breast. She had come to his bed tonight seeking comfort and safety. He didn’t want to ask her for something more if she didn’t want it.
She answered with a smile, relaxing back against the sheets, all thoughts of nightmares and recent events pushed to the far reaches of her mind. Now was what was important. This moment. Being here with Max.
The look on her face, the position of her body with one breast still exposed, silently gave him all the permission he needed. He leaned over her, pausing to kiss her lips first before moving lower. Liz sighed as his lips touched the swell of her breast, small kisses that moved slowly toward the destination they both wanted him to go. When his mouth touched her nipple she arched up into him, moaning audibly as his tongue circled around her and then again when his lips covered her and sucked her in. Her fingers threaded into his hair, holding him in place to prevent him from stopping.
Max wasn’t sure if he was doing everything right, but the noises she was making were encouraging. Each time he tugged on her nipple she moaned a little louder, pulled his hair a little harder, breathed a little faster. He knew enough to know that those were all really good signs. He’d never had the chance to slowly love her, to savor every moment with her, until now. They’d only been together twice, and each time had been fraught with emotion. There was no desperation here now, not like their first time together that night in the van. There was no alien directive at work either, driving him to mate with her and unlock the mysteries in his mind. This was just a young man and a young woman, wanting each other.
“Max . . .” Liz arched into him again, feeling the sweetest ache growing inside her. Was that something else she was feeling too? Pressing against her thigh? That ache grew even stronger, knowing how he was reacting.
“Take this off,” Max lifted his mouth from her breast, tugging at the hem of her top, pulling it higher. Liz lifted her arms to help him, feeling liberated by the loss of her clothing. Max tossed her top aside and went immediately for her left breast, tasting that one too.
Liz covered her mouth with her hand to hold in the sound. They weren’t alone in the house, and she shouldn’t be here. If they were caught there’d be hell to pay.
“You taste so good,” Max mumbled against her skin. His hand grazed down her bare stomach, down her hip, down her thigh and up again. He breathed hard against her breast, wanting to touch more of her.
“Yes,” Liz sighed. His desires were broadcasting loud and clear.
Max moved his lips, kissing the skin over her heart first before moving downward. He kissed each rib with patient deliberation, savoring the taste of her, swelling with pride over how she was reacting to his efforts. He could feel her desires spilling into him, inflaming his own.
His lips moved to her stomach, to the invisible handprint that had started it all, making Liz moan again. Her body still carried his mark even though it wasn’t visible to the naked eye. Her flesh knew his flesh, and welcomed him.
“Do you feel it?” Max whispered, looking up at her face.
Liz nodded, unable to find her voice. Max had changed her the day he healed her. The handprint might have only lasted a few hours, but the bond that it formed would last a lifetime.
Max kissed her stomach again sensing a power simmering inside her, a power that he’d unintentionally unleashed on that fateful day in the Crashdown. She might be ‘only human’, but her potential was far greater than anything they could imagine. They just didn’t know it yet.
Liz closed her eyes, feeling Max kiss a trail down her stomach, pausing at her navel while his fingers hooked around the elastic band of her pajama shorts. He tugged the material downward, breathing deeply as the scent of her aroused sex drifted up to him. He stripped the shorts from her body, tossing them aside without a thought, only wanting to taste what smelled so sweet.
His face pressed into her stomach relishing the moment he’d dreamt about for so long. He’d had many a wet dream over what she would taste like. He shifted his body to slide between her legs, settling into a comfortable position, or as comfortable as he could get at the moment. The ache between his legs was spreading throughout his body and only one thing would make it go away, but he had other things to finish first.
“Max . . .” Liz felt him urge her legs apart. She’d been waiting for this much longer than she’d be willing to admit. His hands spread apart her thighs and he took his first good look at her. The sight of her feminine lips, so vibrant with color, made him grind his cock into the bed. That ache was driving him insane, but he had things he wanted to do before he could give in to it. His hands rested on her inner thighs and his thumbs parted her lips, exposing the beauty of her femininity. His tongue snaked out, finally taking his first taste.
“Max,” Liz groaned in pleasure.
His tongue licked up and down the folds of her sex tasting the sweet essence that spilled from her. He was a quick learner, using his alien senses to gauge what she liked and what sent her to the brink. He teased her with it, taking her right to the edge and then backing off, building her excitement, sensing what was enough and what wasn’t, driving her to grab his head by the hair, forcing his mouth against her.
“Max,” she begged. “I need . . . I want . . .”
Max went back for more, boldly taking what he wanted. She might have needs, but so did he, and one of those needs was to see Liz Parker come apart because of what he was doing to her. His tongue dove deep, taking her in the most exquisite of ways.
“Max!” Liz bucked up against his face. His tongue drove her wild, moving back and forth between her hot spots. It wasn’t long before she turned her face into the pillow to smother a scream. Her thighs quivered with the pleasure of it, while her hands nearly tore out his hair. He’d never felt such beautiful pain before.
“Did you like that?” Max asked when she calmed down. He knew the answer but he still wanted to hear her say it.
“Yes,” Liz sighed. She opened her eyes, smiling at him contentedly.
Max moved up her body, kissing her stomach, then her breasts, before moving up to claim her lips again. His erection poked against her center, separated only by the fabric of his shorts, making her ache with need for him. When his lips parted from hers she chased after him.
“Max!” she tried to capture his lips again.
“Patience,” Max soothed, thrilled inside to make her feel this way. His mouth found hers again while his body began a slow sensual assault of hers, his hands touching her, stimulating her, loving her. The driving need to be inside her was replaced by an even stronger desire to please her, to take her to joyous heights, to make her sing with pleasure.
He gently turned her over until she was facing the sheets. He wanted to kiss her – everywhere. He started at her shoulder, then kissed down her spine, over her shoulder blade, along her side, down to the small of her back, lower still to the curve of her butt. He kissed one cheek and then the other before parting her legs, moving her left leg out away from her right. Liz let him guide their lovemaking, letting him follow his desires. He hadn’t left her wanting yet.
He slipped his shorts off and kicked them aside, joining her in nudity, their skin hot and aroused everywhere they touched. He spooned against her, his chest pressing against her back while his mouth nibbled at her throat. His left hand moved around her side, up and over her ribs to cup her breast, thrilled when she moaned again, her nipple hard and aroused against his palm. His erection poked at her backside before slipping between her legs, seeking her sweet center. She buried her face in the pillow to hold back the scream of pleasure when he finally slipped inside her.
“Liz,” Max hissed against her shoulder. He pushed deeper, sinking into her body while his hands held her to him. His right arm lay under her body, his hand splayed across her stomach, pressing her back into him while the fingers of his left hand moved down from her breast to probe between her lower lips. He found the little mound he was looking for and stimulated her, while his cock sank deeper into her body, one inch at a time.
“More,” Liz moaned into the pillow, unable to remain quiet with the beautiful things he was doing to her. She was at his sweet mercy in this position, feeling his cock fill her while his fingers brought her to the brink once again.
His butt muscles clenched with each thrust of his hips, driving him deeper inside her. He took his time, savoring their every moment together, slowly building their passion to the edge. He was in no hurry, and they had the whole night to love each other. His strokes were measured and paced, punctuated by blissful sighs and musical moans, their bodies moving in harmonious alignment.
He buried his face against her throat as his thrusts intensified and his glowing fingers did their magic. A burst of energy shot from his fingertips without him even realizing it, sending Liz into heaven. He felt each and every second of it, from the first burst of fire in her clit, then spreading out, reaching all the way to her fingers and her toes.
“Max!” Liz cried into the pillow. No woman had ever been loved the way Max Evans could love her.
She arched back into him like a cat in heat, feeling his cock slide into her deeply, each thrust hitting its target and adding to her sensual high. When she floated back to earth he paused deep inside her, feeling her inner walls quivering around him.
“Wait . . .” he breathed heavily into her ear, amazed by what he’d just done to her. He’d had so many fantasies of hearing her cry out his name like that. Now, it wasn’t just a fantasy anymore. He was so close to his own completion, but he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. When he felt some semblance of control return he pulled out of her and turned her over, wanting to be face to face with her when he came. The sight of her sated and satisfied expression was nearly his undoing, though, knowing he had put that look there. He almost climaxed on the spot.
“Liz,” he groaned before sinking into her welcoming depths again. Her inner walls wrapped around him like a glove, her orgasm making her swollen and slick for him. He hovered just above her, watching the passion on her face as he filled every part of her. His balls tightened, only moments away from sweet release.
The creaking of the bed intensified as his movements quickened. Sweat tricked down his chest and mingled with hers everywhere they touched, her soft breasts bouncing against his hard chest, his tight abdominal muscles rocking against her flat stomach, their hips moving in unison toward the same goal. Her hands flattened against his butt urging him even deeper, inflaming their race to fruition. He hovered on the very edge, desperately ready to let go but forcing himself to wait, using every ounce of his control to wait for her to come one more time. She was close, so close he could feel it.
She slammed up against him, biting at her lower lip to hold in her cry as she climaxed again. Her walls clamped down on him sending him into ecstasy with her, his seed filling her in wave after wave of blinding pleasure. The fire spread though him, a living thing building in intensity, coursing through both his body and hers, shared experiences that cemented them together. Her fingers dug into his butt so he couldn’t get away, but there was no threat of that. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was right where he belonged.
The uncontrolled jerking of his hips continued with each burst she milked from him. His arms grew weak and he fell against her, humping against her in the final throes of orgasmic pleasure. It was minutes later before he could move, and even longer before he could speak.
It didn’t matter though. They were so connected they didn’t need to talk.
* * * * *
“I should go,” Liz sighed against the onslaught of his kisses.
“I know,” Max mumbled against her skin.
“It’s getting late.”
“Late,” his tongue touched her nipple.
She arched her back when his mouth closed around her, sucking on her hardened peak. “Max . . .”
“I’m here,” he flicked his tongue at her.
“I really should go . . .”
“You sure?” He wanted more. He couldn’t get enough.
“No,” she moaned and Max smiled. She couldn’t get enough either.
“Come here,” he growled and rolled over onto his back, taking her with him. They hadn’t gotten much sleep tonight, but that was okay. He was an alien who didn’t need much sleep. Apparently she didn’t either.
Liz sat on his stomach, feeling his erection poking her in the butt. His heated gaze swept over her, lingering on her breasts before dropping lower. Her legs were spread, straddling him, giving him an enticing view. His hands gripped her hips, just about to pick her up to impale her, when the sound of running water reached his ears.
“Shit!” Max hissed and sat up with Liz still straddling his lap. He clutched her protectively against his chest while checking the clock on his bedside table. “That’s my dad. Taking a shower.”
Liz reached for a blanket, or a sheet, anything to cover her nudity, but their energetic activity during the night had pushed everything off the bed. He was just about to tell her that his dad took really quick showers, when the sound of running water stopped. Their eyes grew wide and they both scrambled off the bed, looking around the floor for the clothes they’d tossed aside during the night.
“Here,” Max found her pajama shorts under a blanket and tossed them in her direction.
She caught the shorts and retrieved her tank top from the floor, clutching them to her naked body. “How am I supposed to get home wearing these?” It was daylight now. Morning. Where had the night gone?
“I’ll drive you,” Max tore his eyes away from her and searched for his own shorts.
“You can’t,” she pulled her clothes on. “They’ll hear you leave, or see your jeep gone.”
“You’re right,” he stood up straight, naked as the day he was born, or hatched, or whatever. Liz couldn’t help the thrill that passed through her, seeing him this way. His body looked gorgeous, human in every detail.
“Here,” he crossed over to her with his muscles rippling every step of the way. He touched his hand to her shorts, turning them into a pair of track pants. The sleeping bear on the front of her tank top turned into a streaking comet, with the words ‘Property of West Roswell Athletic Dept’ surrounding it.
“Now you look like you’re out for a morning jog.”
“Except . . .” Liz looked down at her bare feet.
Max smirked at her wiggling toes. He went to his closet and rooted around inside until he found an old pair of sneakers. He came back and sat her down on the end of his bed, slipping the shoes onto her feet, then shrinking them down to size.
“I should have you dress me more often,” Liz giggled. “I like having a naked slave.”
“Funny,” Max rose up and pushed her back against his bed. He hovered over her, just about to kiss her senseless, when the sound of a door closing somewhere in the house broke the moment.
“You better go,” Max whispered sharply. Liz scrambled off the bed and hurried to the window. He opened it but held her back before she could climb through. “I’ll meet you later, after the Crashdown opens.”
“Okay. See you then.” Their parting kiss lingered, neither one wanting to let go, until the sound of footsteps forced them apart.
* * * * *
Max finished tugging his shirt into place and opened his bedroom door. His step was jaunty, carefree, the step of a teenage boy without a worry in the world, and that’s how he felt this morning. He’d just spent the most amazing night of his life, in the arms of the girl that he loved, fulfilling more fantasies than he’d dreamed possible.
He stepped into the kitchen, singing on the inside, and smiling on the out.
“Morning Max,” Philip looked up from his newspaper as his son walked into the kitchen.
“Morning Dad.”
Max poured himself a cup of coffee and joined his father at the table. He stirred in a couple of teaspoons of sugar from the sugar bowl, and then added a few drops of Tabasco sauce.
“Did you sleep well?” Philip asked from behind the paper.
“Fine,” Max stirred his coffee and sipped it with a contented smile on his lips.
“Liz get home okay?”
“Yeah –”
WHAT? WHAT? Max choked and nearly dropped his coffee cup. The color drained out of his face, and then came roaring back in a bright shade of red.
“You know, son,” Philip lowered the paper again. “We don’t mind it when Michael sleeps over, but Liz is another matter.”
Max’s mouth moved but no sound came out.
“Are you being careful, son?”
What? Yes. No. SHIT!
“You kids are so young; you don’t want to ruin your college plans with an unplanned pregnancy.”
Max held the coffee cup so tightly it started to crack. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.
“Then there’s disease to worry about. AIDS, and other venereal diseases. Proper use of a condom –”
Sweet god almighty! Max stared at his father in utter shock. He was the leader of a group of alien hybrids, sent here to prevent the invasion of Earth, and his father was giving him THE TALK!
Come back next week when something wicked this way comes . . .
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17 S
Author note: A lot of stuff has been happening to my Max and Liz over the last few parts, so I wanted to give them a break this week. A sweet interlude. I thought they deserved a little enjoyable alone time. I didn't intend to have a nookie part in both Aftermath and A Walk in the Park within the same week, but that's just how the stories flowed.
Thanks for all the fabulous feedback!
Aftermath
Part 31
Max lay on his bed with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. So many things had happened in the past month, his mind couldn’t shut down. Getting captured by the FBI, the torture in the White Room, escaping, spending the night in the old van and making love to Liz, the incident at the lake where he’d almost killed her, his panicked decision to run and then that incredible afternoon right here in his room when they made love again, and the secrets of his very existence became clear. It’d been the worst month, and the best month of his life, all in one.
He felt her presence before he heard the tap on his window. He was out of bed in a flash, drawing the curtain aside and peering out into the night. She stood just beyond the glass with her arms crossed over her chest like she was cold.
“Liz?” Max opened the window, letting in the warm night air. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His gaze swept over the landscape beyond her, but the night was quiet. Not even a breeze stirred the trees.
“Can I come in?” she looked up at him pleadingly.
Max noticed the way she shivered, which made no sense on a warm summer night like this. He reached out his hand to help her through the window, pulling her into his arms once she was safely inside.
“Tell me what happened,” he demanded, feeling her trembling.
“I had a bad dream,” Liz dropped her head, feeling foolish now. She’d run all the way over here in the dark, in her pajamas, just because of a silly nightmare.
“What kind of dream?” Max lifted her chin. She shouldn’t be out at night. It wasn’t safe.
Liz looked up at him, not wanting to talk about it, but isn’t that what she always urged him to do? Talk about it, instead of keeping it all inside? After all, it was only a nightmare. A memory of the past.
“I was in the mirror maze, trying to find you. I could hear your voice, but I couldn’t see you. When I did, we ran outside into the bus, but it wasn’t really you. It was . . .”
“It was Ed Harding pretending to be me, wasn’t it?” Max said gently. She nodded and lowered her head.
“He said he was coming for me,” Liz shivered, remembering the cold tone of his voice.
“He’s gone,” Max ran his hands lightly up and down her arms trying to warm her. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” It wasn’t surprising that she’d have bad dreams about the shapeshifter tonight, and the things Harding had done to her. He’d lost track of how many nightmares he’d had of that night, getting captured in the mirror maze, and everything that happened after.
“Will you just hold me?” Liz turned her dark eyes up to him.
Max pulled her into his bare chest. He looked around his room and then nodded toward his bed. “You wanna lie down?”
Liz nodded and Max led her to his bed, letting her slide in between the sheets first, then following after. They settled under the covers, Max on his back with Liz tucked into his side, her head resting on the right side of his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Liz traced a finger along the center of his chest. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Liz,” Max cupped her face with his hand. “Don’t be sorry. I wasn’t asleep. Besides, this is where you belong. Someday, I hope it will always be this way. You and me,” his fingers stroked through her hair. “Like this.”
“Really?” Liz lifted her head from his chest, looking deeply into his reassuring eyes.
“Really,” he smiled at her, relieved to see that her trembling was subsiding.
“Me, too,” she sighed. The warmth of his bed relaxed her and eased her troubled mind. She fought back a yawn, but it was a losing battle.
“Go to sleep,” Max tucked her head back against his chest. “I’ll keep you safe.”
She was always keeping him safe. This time he would do that for her. Their hands twined together, both taking and seeking comfort in the other. He silently wondered how bad her dream could have been, to force her out of her home in the dead of night, but he had plenty of personal experience on that front. He hoped her nightmares were nothing like his.
* * * * *
Max lay on his right side with his elbow bent and his head propped up on his hand, watching Liz as she slept. She looked peaceful now, warm and comfortable in his bed. It’d been a fantasy of his for years, to have her here like this.
His fingers lightly touched her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin felt. How silky smooth. He ran his fingertips across her lips, wanting to kiss her but not wanting to wake her. She stirred slightly, sighing softly.
Max removed his fingers from her face, but only to move them down to her throat, resting them lightly on the vein that pulsed with her life’s blood. The beat was slow and steady, relaxed in sleep, just what she needed. His hand moved along her shoulder, needing to touch her, feeling his desire growing.
The strap of her tank top had fallen from her shoulder as she slept and Max hooked his finger around it with the intension of lifting it back into place. Instead, acting with a mind of its own, his hand gently inched it lower, exposing the upper mound of her breast. He tugged a little harder, causing his respirations to rise as the rosy shade of her nipple came into view. He swallowed hard knowing he shouldn’t be doing this, not while she slept, but helpless to stop it. She was too beautiful to keep covered.
The length of his index finger slid along the underside of her right breast, caressing her skin intimately. He watched in fascination as her nipple hardened before his very eyes, puckering, rising to a sharp peak. He was still new at this, learning the reactions of her body to his touch, marveling at the wonder of it, but his own answering hardness was commonplace. The ache in his loins he’d been feeling for years, every time he thought of her while lying on this bed. On any other night he would have relieved that ache with his hand, but tonight the ache intensified, unsatisfied.
He touched the tip of her nipple with his fingertip, biting back the urge to taste her with his tongue. Would she be upset with him if he did? Would she think him a pervert for violating her in her sleep? Would she think he was just like all the other guys, only interested in sex? He loved her mind as much as her body, and oh god, what a body it was. His fantasies had never been this good.
He shifted uncomfortably, but that ache wasn’t going away. On the contrary, it was growing stronger, just like that part of his body was growing. Lengthening. Thickening. Throbbing.
A groan unintentionally escaped his lips and he looked up to make sure he hadn’t disturbed her, only to be shocked at the sight of her dark eyes open and staring back at him. His cheeks flushed with color while his hand tried to lift her tank top back into place.
“Liz, I . . .” he stuttered. “I didn’t mean . . .”
“Don’t be afraid to touch me,” her hand covered his and held him against her breast.
Her words were familiar, an echo of what he had once told her, and he relaxed at once, sensing how welcome his touch was, just as hers had been that morning in the van.
“Can I . . .” he swallowed hard, shifting his eyes from her face to her breast. She had come to his bed tonight seeking comfort and safety. He didn’t want to ask her for something more if she didn’t want it.
She answered with a smile, relaxing back against the sheets, all thoughts of nightmares and recent events pushed to the far reaches of her mind. Now was what was important. This moment. Being here with Max.
The look on her face, the position of her body with one breast still exposed, silently gave him all the permission he needed. He leaned over her, pausing to kiss her lips first before moving lower. Liz sighed as his lips touched the swell of her breast, small kisses that moved slowly toward the destination they both wanted him to go. When his mouth touched her nipple she arched up into him, moaning audibly as his tongue circled around her and then again when his lips covered her and sucked her in. Her fingers threaded into his hair, holding him in place to prevent him from stopping.
Max wasn’t sure if he was doing everything right, but the noises she was making were encouraging. Each time he tugged on her nipple she moaned a little louder, pulled his hair a little harder, breathed a little faster. He knew enough to know that those were all really good signs. He’d never had the chance to slowly love her, to savor every moment with her, until now. They’d only been together twice, and each time had been fraught with emotion. There was no desperation here now, not like their first time together that night in the van. There was no alien directive at work either, driving him to mate with her and unlock the mysteries in his mind. This was just a young man and a young woman, wanting each other.
“Max . . .” Liz arched into him again, feeling the sweetest ache growing inside her. Was that something else she was feeling too? Pressing against her thigh? That ache grew even stronger, knowing how he was reacting.
“Take this off,” Max lifted his mouth from her breast, tugging at the hem of her top, pulling it higher. Liz lifted her arms to help him, feeling liberated by the loss of her clothing. Max tossed her top aside and went immediately for her left breast, tasting that one too.
Liz covered her mouth with her hand to hold in the sound. They weren’t alone in the house, and she shouldn’t be here. If they were caught there’d be hell to pay.
“You taste so good,” Max mumbled against her skin. His hand grazed down her bare stomach, down her hip, down her thigh and up again. He breathed hard against her breast, wanting to touch more of her.
“Yes,” Liz sighed. His desires were broadcasting loud and clear.
Max moved his lips, kissing the skin over her heart first before moving downward. He kissed each rib with patient deliberation, savoring the taste of her, swelling with pride over how she was reacting to his efforts. He could feel her desires spilling into him, inflaming his own.
His lips moved to her stomach, to the invisible handprint that had started it all, making Liz moan again. Her body still carried his mark even though it wasn’t visible to the naked eye. Her flesh knew his flesh, and welcomed him.
“Do you feel it?” Max whispered, looking up at her face.
Liz nodded, unable to find her voice. Max had changed her the day he healed her. The handprint might have only lasted a few hours, but the bond that it formed would last a lifetime.
Max kissed her stomach again sensing a power simmering inside her, a power that he’d unintentionally unleashed on that fateful day in the Crashdown. She might be ‘only human’, but her potential was far greater than anything they could imagine. They just didn’t know it yet.
Liz closed her eyes, feeling Max kiss a trail down her stomach, pausing at her navel while his fingers hooked around the elastic band of her pajama shorts. He tugged the material downward, breathing deeply as the scent of her aroused sex drifted up to him. He stripped the shorts from her body, tossing them aside without a thought, only wanting to taste what smelled so sweet.
His face pressed into her stomach relishing the moment he’d dreamt about for so long. He’d had many a wet dream over what she would taste like. He shifted his body to slide between her legs, settling into a comfortable position, or as comfortable as he could get at the moment. The ache between his legs was spreading throughout his body and only one thing would make it go away, but he had other things to finish first.
“Max . . .” Liz felt him urge her legs apart. She’d been waiting for this much longer than she’d be willing to admit. His hands spread apart her thighs and he took his first good look at her. The sight of her feminine lips, so vibrant with color, made him grind his cock into the bed. That ache was driving him insane, but he had things he wanted to do before he could give in to it. His hands rested on her inner thighs and his thumbs parted her lips, exposing the beauty of her femininity. His tongue snaked out, finally taking his first taste.
“Max,” Liz groaned in pleasure.
His tongue licked up and down the folds of her sex tasting the sweet essence that spilled from her. He was a quick learner, using his alien senses to gauge what she liked and what sent her to the brink. He teased her with it, taking her right to the edge and then backing off, building her excitement, sensing what was enough and what wasn’t, driving her to grab his head by the hair, forcing his mouth against her.
“Max,” she begged. “I need . . . I want . . .”
Max went back for more, boldly taking what he wanted. She might have needs, but so did he, and one of those needs was to see Liz Parker come apart because of what he was doing to her. His tongue dove deep, taking her in the most exquisite of ways.
“Max!” Liz bucked up against his face. His tongue drove her wild, moving back and forth between her hot spots. It wasn’t long before she turned her face into the pillow to smother a scream. Her thighs quivered with the pleasure of it, while her hands nearly tore out his hair. He’d never felt such beautiful pain before.
“Did you like that?” Max asked when she calmed down. He knew the answer but he still wanted to hear her say it.
“Yes,” Liz sighed. She opened her eyes, smiling at him contentedly.
Max moved up her body, kissing her stomach, then her breasts, before moving up to claim her lips again. His erection poked against her center, separated only by the fabric of his shorts, making her ache with need for him. When his lips parted from hers she chased after him.
“Max!” she tried to capture his lips again.
“Patience,” Max soothed, thrilled inside to make her feel this way. His mouth found hers again while his body began a slow sensual assault of hers, his hands touching her, stimulating her, loving her. The driving need to be inside her was replaced by an even stronger desire to please her, to take her to joyous heights, to make her sing with pleasure.
He gently turned her over until she was facing the sheets. He wanted to kiss her – everywhere. He started at her shoulder, then kissed down her spine, over her shoulder blade, along her side, down to the small of her back, lower still to the curve of her butt. He kissed one cheek and then the other before parting her legs, moving her left leg out away from her right. Liz let him guide their lovemaking, letting him follow his desires. He hadn’t left her wanting yet.
He slipped his shorts off and kicked them aside, joining her in nudity, their skin hot and aroused everywhere they touched. He spooned against her, his chest pressing against her back while his mouth nibbled at her throat. His left hand moved around her side, up and over her ribs to cup her breast, thrilled when she moaned again, her nipple hard and aroused against his palm. His erection poked at her backside before slipping between her legs, seeking her sweet center. She buried her face in the pillow to hold back the scream of pleasure when he finally slipped inside her.
“Liz,” Max hissed against her shoulder. He pushed deeper, sinking into her body while his hands held her to him. His right arm lay under her body, his hand splayed across her stomach, pressing her back into him while the fingers of his left hand moved down from her breast to probe between her lower lips. He found the little mound he was looking for and stimulated her, while his cock sank deeper into her body, one inch at a time.
“More,” Liz moaned into the pillow, unable to remain quiet with the beautiful things he was doing to her. She was at his sweet mercy in this position, feeling his cock fill her while his fingers brought her to the brink once again.
His butt muscles clenched with each thrust of his hips, driving him deeper inside her. He took his time, savoring their every moment together, slowly building their passion to the edge. He was in no hurry, and they had the whole night to love each other. His strokes were measured and paced, punctuated by blissful sighs and musical moans, their bodies moving in harmonious alignment.
He buried his face against her throat as his thrusts intensified and his glowing fingers did their magic. A burst of energy shot from his fingertips without him even realizing it, sending Liz into heaven. He felt each and every second of it, from the first burst of fire in her clit, then spreading out, reaching all the way to her fingers and her toes.
“Max!” Liz cried into the pillow. No woman had ever been loved the way Max Evans could love her.
She arched back into him like a cat in heat, feeling his cock slide into her deeply, each thrust hitting its target and adding to her sensual high. When she floated back to earth he paused deep inside her, feeling her inner walls quivering around him.
“Wait . . .” he breathed heavily into her ear, amazed by what he’d just done to her. He’d had so many fantasies of hearing her cry out his name like that. Now, it wasn’t just a fantasy anymore. He was so close to his own completion, but he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. When he felt some semblance of control return he pulled out of her and turned her over, wanting to be face to face with her when he came. The sight of her sated and satisfied expression was nearly his undoing, though, knowing he had put that look there. He almost climaxed on the spot.
“Liz,” he groaned before sinking into her welcoming depths again. Her inner walls wrapped around him like a glove, her orgasm making her swollen and slick for him. He hovered just above her, watching the passion on her face as he filled every part of her. His balls tightened, only moments away from sweet release.
The creaking of the bed intensified as his movements quickened. Sweat tricked down his chest and mingled with hers everywhere they touched, her soft breasts bouncing against his hard chest, his tight abdominal muscles rocking against her flat stomach, their hips moving in unison toward the same goal. Her hands flattened against his butt urging him even deeper, inflaming their race to fruition. He hovered on the very edge, desperately ready to let go but forcing himself to wait, using every ounce of his control to wait for her to come one more time. She was close, so close he could feel it.
She slammed up against him, biting at her lower lip to hold in her cry as she climaxed again. Her walls clamped down on him sending him into ecstasy with her, his seed filling her in wave after wave of blinding pleasure. The fire spread though him, a living thing building in intensity, coursing through both his body and hers, shared experiences that cemented them together. Her fingers dug into his butt so he couldn’t get away, but there was no threat of that. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was right where he belonged.
The uncontrolled jerking of his hips continued with each burst she milked from him. His arms grew weak and he fell against her, humping against her in the final throes of orgasmic pleasure. It was minutes later before he could move, and even longer before he could speak.
It didn’t matter though. They were so connected they didn’t need to talk.
* * * * *
“I should go,” Liz sighed against the onslaught of his kisses.
“I know,” Max mumbled against her skin.
“It’s getting late.”
“Late,” his tongue touched her nipple.
She arched her back when his mouth closed around her, sucking on her hardened peak. “Max . . .”
“I’m here,” he flicked his tongue at her.
“I really should go . . .”
“You sure?” He wanted more. He couldn’t get enough.
“No,” she moaned and Max smiled. She couldn’t get enough either.
“Come here,” he growled and rolled over onto his back, taking her with him. They hadn’t gotten much sleep tonight, but that was okay. He was an alien who didn’t need much sleep. Apparently she didn’t either.
Liz sat on his stomach, feeling his erection poking her in the butt. His heated gaze swept over her, lingering on her breasts before dropping lower. Her legs were spread, straddling him, giving him an enticing view. His hands gripped her hips, just about to pick her up to impale her, when the sound of running water reached his ears.
“Shit!” Max hissed and sat up with Liz still straddling his lap. He clutched her protectively against his chest while checking the clock on his bedside table. “That’s my dad. Taking a shower.”
Liz reached for a blanket, or a sheet, anything to cover her nudity, but their energetic activity during the night had pushed everything off the bed. He was just about to tell her that his dad took really quick showers, when the sound of running water stopped. Their eyes grew wide and they both scrambled off the bed, looking around the floor for the clothes they’d tossed aside during the night.
“Here,” Max found her pajama shorts under a blanket and tossed them in her direction.
She caught the shorts and retrieved her tank top from the floor, clutching them to her naked body. “How am I supposed to get home wearing these?” It was daylight now. Morning. Where had the night gone?
“I’ll drive you,” Max tore his eyes away from her and searched for his own shorts.
“You can’t,” she pulled her clothes on. “They’ll hear you leave, or see your jeep gone.”
“You’re right,” he stood up straight, naked as the day he was born, or hatched, or whatever. Liz couldn’t help the thrill that passed through her, seeing him this way. His body looked gorgeous, human in every detail.
“Here,” he crossed over to her with his muscles rippling every step of the way. He touched his hand to her shorts, turning them into a pair of track pants. The sleeping bear on the front of her tank top turned into a streaking comet, with the words ‘Property of West Roswell Athletic Dept’ surrounding it.
“Now you look like you’re out for a morning jog.”
“Except . . .” Liz looked down at her bare feet.
Max smirked at her wiggling toes. He went to his closet and rooted around inside until he found an old pair of sneakers. He came back and sat her down on the end of his bed, slipping the shoes onto her feet, then shrinking them down to size.
“I should have you dress me more often,” Liz giggled. “I like having a naked slave.”
“Funny,” Max rose up and pushed her back against his bed. He hovered over her, just about to kiss her senseless, when the sound of a door closing somewhere in the house broke the moment.
“You better go,” Max whispered sharply. Liz scrambled off the bed and hurried to the window. He opened it but held her back before she could climb through. “I’ll meet you later, after the Crashdown opens.”
“Okay. See you then.” Their parting kiss lingered, neither one wanting to let go, until the sound of footsteps forced them apart.
* * * * *
Max finished tugging his shirt into place and opened his bedroom door. His step was jaunty, carefree, the step of a teenage boy without a worry in the world, and that’s how he felt this morning. He’d just spent the most amazing night of his life, in the arms of the girl that he loved, fulfilling more fantasies than he’d dreamed possible.
He stepped into the kitchen, singing on the inside, and smiling on the out.
“Morning Max,” Philip looked up from his newspaper as his son walked into the kitchen.
“Morning Dad.”
Max poured himself a cup of coffee and joined his father at the table. He stirred in a couple of teaspoons of sugar from the sugar bowl, and then added a few drops of Tabasco sauce.
“Did you sleep well?” Philip asked from behind the paper.
“Fine,” Max stirred his coffee and sipped it with a contented smile on his lips.
“Liz get home okay?”
“Yeah –”
WHAT? WHAT? Max choked and nearly dropped his coffee cup. The color drained out of his face, and then came roaring back in a bright shade of red.
“You know, son,” Philip lowered the paper again. “We don’t mind it when Michael sleeps over, but Liz is another matter.”
Max’s mouth moved but no sound came out.
“Are you being careful, son?”
What? Yes. No. SHIT!
“You kids are so young; you don’t want to ruin your college plans with an unplanned pregnancy.”
Max held the coffee cup so tightly it started to crack. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.
“Then there’s disease to worry about. AIDS, and other venereal diseases. Proper use of a condom –”
Sweet god almighty! Max stared at his father in utter shock. He was the leader of a group of alien hybrids, sent here to prevent the invasion of Earth, and his father was giving him THE TALK!
Come back next week when something wicked this way comes . . .
-
Breathless
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 254
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: Somewhere in ficland
Aftermath Part 32
Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Author note: It seems everyone was happy to get a little respite last week from all the angsty stuff. I'm glad you liked it. Now on with the story . . .
Aftermath
Part 32
Lonnie shuffled into the kitchen wearing a tight t-shirt and skimpy pair of panties, her usual morning attire. She pushed her hair back but it didn’t make it look any different than it normally did, just a mess of brown curls around her face. Zan scrutinized her with a critical eye from across the room.
“You’re gettin’ fat sittin’ around doin’ nothin’ between hits,” he pushed away from the window and prowled in her direction.
“Fuck you –”
Zan grabbed her arm and yanked her to him. His fingers dug into her flesh, exerting his will over her, hissing into her face, “Fat means slow, and we can’t afford slow. You do as I say.”
“Alright, alright,” Lonnie lost the attitude and backed down. She held her arms up in surrender, not wanting to be on his bad side. He didn’t have just a stick up his butt this morning, he had a whole fuckin’ forest. “I’ll get in shape.”
“Damn straight,” he shoved her away. He was The Man, and he didn’t let any of them forget it.
Ava came into the room and silently made her way to the coffee pot. Lonnie moved away from Zan and joined her there. “You better take care of Cujo over there, before he gets any meaner.”
Ava stole a fearful look in Zan’s direction, but his attention was focused on the weapons he was loading into his backpack. They never used their powers for the actual hit. They had to make it look human, using human weapons, which worked out fine for Zan. He liked his toys, the deadlier the better.
Lonnie watched him too, and when his cold gaze settled on her again she whispered, “Oh shit.” No one liked to be the focus of Zan’s attention.
“Did you recon last night?” His tone demanded a quick answer.
“Yeah, o’ course.” No one ever disobeyed his direct orders.
“What’d ya see?”
“I don’t know, it was all fucked up,” Lonnie shrugged. “She was dreaming ‘bout workin’ in a restaurant on Halloween or somethin’. Wearing this weird costume. But the weirdest thing is – you was there.”
His head shot up, narrowing his eyes at her and she hastily added, “Not you, but like a younger GQ version of you. You clean up real nice,” she smirked, but Zan wasn’t amused.
“She was dreamin’ of me?” Zan felt the hackles rise on his neck.
“Yeah. No. It was fucked up,” Lonnie whined. “I probably got my wires crossed. I’ll be able to dream ‘er better when we get closer to Roswell. You know it don’t work good long distance.”
“Yeah,” Zan said gruffly and shoved a box of ammo in the backpack. That unsettled air about him thickened and Ava tried to disappear. She walked toward the living room hoping he wouldn’t notice her.
“C’mere,” his hand shot out and grabbed her arm as she tried to skirt around him, making her spill her coffee on the rug. She bit back a whimper, keeping her head down and trying to hold in the sound as he dragged her across the apartment and into the bedroom. She had a job to do before they hit the road.
“Wass up?” Rath sauntered into the room, scratching his hand through his latest punked out hairdo.
“Same ol, same ol,” Lonnie stared at the closed bedroom door. She thanked her lucky stars everyday that Rath was her pod-mate. He might be dumber than shit, but at least he wasn’t a rabid animal like Zan.
* * * * *
Max pushed through the doors into the back room of the Crashdown, with a smile creeping over his face at the sight of the object of his desire, the most beautiful waitress in the world. She was tying her apron in place, and she hadn’t noticed him yet. He walked up behind her and slid his hands around her waist.
“You want some help?” his lips hovered close to her ear, using that sexy tone reserved solely for her.
“Hi,” Liz smiled at him over her shoulder and turned around to face him. His lips covered hers in a good morning kiss, hot enough to be less than chaste, but innocent enough not to warrant being chased out of the restaurant by her dad if he should happen to walk in.
“I missed you,” Max leaned his forehead into hers.
“It’s only been an hour,” Liz toyed with the edges of his UFO Center vest. Her skin still hummed from all the places he’d touched her during the night.
“Yeah, about that,” Max cleared his throat and straightened to his full height.
“What?” the smile left Liz’s face, sensing something was wrong.
“Well,” his cheeks took on a pink hue. “My, um,” he fumbled with how to tell her. “My dad kind of, well, kind of . . . knows where you slept last night, or didn’t sleep, as the case may be.”
“WHAT?” Liz nearly shouted. She covered her mouth with her hand to hold it in while Max nodded in embarrassment.
“He confronted me at breakfast –”
“You mean, he – us – we? Your Mom? Does she know too?”
“No, no,” Max tried to reassure her. “It was just my dad and me. I guess maybe he . . . heard us, or something . . .”
“Oh my God!” Liz felt her face explode with heat. Her cheeks had never been so red before. “He heard us?”
“Yeah,” he cringed, “I think so.” With a glint in his eye, he added, “He asked how it went, and I told him you were really good –”
“MAX!” Liz hit him hard on the chest and he burst out laughing.
“Kidding!” he pulled her into his arms. “He gave me ‘The Talk’. I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.”
“Oh, god, Max,” Liz covered her face with her hands. How could she ever look at his father again?
“Sorry,” his smile turned into an embarrassed grin. He bit at his lower lip and said, “We just have to be more careful next time.” In more ways than one.
“No!” Liz threw up her hands and headed toward the door into the restaurant. “No more next time! That is like so not gonna happen. Never, never, ever again!”
WHAT? No more? Never again? She didn’t really mean that, did she?
“Liz?” the smile fled his face and he chased her into the café. “LIZ?” When he reached her he grabbed her arm and desperately turned her around. “You don’t mean that, do you?”
“No,” she relented, unable to resist his poor little boy look. She smiled at him and he sagged in relief and smiled back. They leaned into each other, their foreheads touching, oblivious to the world around them.
“Good,” Max held her tight, happier than he thought he had any right to be. They might be on the verge of facing a battle to save the planet, but as long as he had Liz, he could face anything.
* * * * *
Zan roared down the highway feeling the high powered vibrations of the Harley between his legs. Black leather pants molded to his muscular thighs, while the wind rippled his leather vest and his long hair streamed behind him. Mirrored sunglasses cloaked his eyes.
The morning sun chased him, warming as the day progressed, soaking into his bulging biceps and muscular forearms, tanning his weathered skin. His rough hands gripped the handlebars, barely aware of Ava on the seat behind him, he’d become so accustomed to her presence there. Her arms circled around his waist and she tried not to move a muscle during the endless hours of driving.
The desert landscape flashed by but Zan barely noticed it. His thoughts were a hundred miles away – one hundred and thirty to be precise, according to the road sign they’d just passed.
Roswell was just up ahead, less than two hours away now, and counting . . .
* * * * *
Liz carried an armload of plates to a table in the center of the restaurant and efficiently began to pass them out.
“One Blue Moon Plate, with extra Lunar sauce,” Liz put the hamburger in front of a small boy sitting next to a harried looking woman. “And one Worf salad with Nebula dressing –”
“I didn’t order that,” the woman pointed at the hamburger.
“The Blue Moon Plate,” Liz looked at it. “Hamburger with cheese.”
“He can’t eat all that!” the woman snapped. She slapped at the boy’s hand as he tried to grab a french fry off the plate in front of him. His eyes had grown as big as saucers when Liz put it there. “He’s three! What happened to his Meteor Meal?”
“His . . .?” Liz looked baffled.
“Miss?” a man in the neighboring booth raised his hand to get her attention. “I think the Blue Moon Plate is mine.”
* * * * *
The desert sun beat down on the road creating distant pools of shimmering mirages. The flat terrain stretched from horizon to horizon, but Zan was oblivious to it. His face was impassive behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, but his mind was active, alert, gripped by anticipation. He would see her soon. The target. The girl.
Images of her flashed through his mind, pictures from the orb, her dark hair, her innocent smile, the mesmerizing dark eyes that dominated her face.
Would her voice sound lyrical, like music? Or sultry to suit her sensuality? He could almost hear it now, drifting on the wind to him, calling him, calling his name. She was so close he could feel her, underneath his skin.
Was she the one? The one he’d been dreaming about for months now? The one with the shadowed face? Was it just a coincidence that Lonnie said she was dreaming of him, too?
Soon. He would meet her soon . . .
* * * * *
“Table 5!” Michael slammed his hand against the bell, smirking at the frazzled look on Liz’s face. Tourist season must be starting early. The restaurant had never been busier.
Liz pushed loose strands of hair back from her face as she hurried to the pass-through. She grabbed a steaming plate from the shelf and turned quickly, too quickly. The plate toppled out of her hand and crashed to the floor, breaking into pieces and echoing around the restaurant like a gun shot. Space fries flew everywhere.
“Damn!” she felt like stomping her foot. She’d had a bad morning and it looked like the afternoon wasn’t getting any better.
“You’re off your game,” Maria skirted around the mess on the floor, loaded down with plates of her own.
Liz sighed in exasperation and dropped to her knees to clean up the mess. Maria joined her a moment later with a plastic tub used to bus the tables.
“Are you all right?” she helped pick up the broken shards of the plate and deposited them in the tub. “It’s not like you to get orders wrong and break plates. That’s Michael’s specialty.”
“I’m just a little tired,” Liz blew her hair out of her face.
“Max keep you up all night?” Maria teased and then her mouth fell open when Liz turned beet red. “He DID, didn’t he! You so have to tell me everything!”
“Maria,” Liz sighed. She knew Maria wouldn’t let it go until she got all the details.
“You, me, later, ice cream!” Maria enthused.
Liz smiled, she couldn’t help herself. Who could keep a secret around Maria and a bowl of ice cream? Liz was reaching for the last piece of broken plate when her world suddenly shifted. The room around her tilted and faded out, replaced by the roar of an engine filling her ears and sunlight glinting off something dark, something curved, mirrors to hide behind.
“Liz?” Maria stared at Liz’s slack expression. “Liz?”
“Something’s coming . . .”
Maria felt a chill go up her spine. Liz’s eyes looked unfocused and the tone of her voice was giving her the creeps.
“Something’s coming . . .”
“Liz!” Maria grabbed her friend’s upper arms, shaking Liz out of her trance, or stupor, or whatever the hell had just happened to her. “Liz! What’s wrong?”
“What?” Liz swam back into focus. Something weird had just happened, but she wasn’t sure what. The vision of mirrors faded, but not the sound.
“What just happened?” Maria demanded.
The two girls rose to their feet with Liz shaking her head in denial. “Nothing. It was . . . nothing.”
The sound grew louder, turning into the deep roar of engines, drawing Liz’s gaze toward the front windows. Her heart rate doubled in anticipation, waiting, for what she didn’t know. A motorcycle appeared on the street in front of the restaurant, moving from left to right across the window. It was followed by another, and another, 5, 10, 15 or more, filling the streets of Roswell with the sound. The late afternoon sunlight glinted off the darkly curved surface of the riders’ helmets.
Liz stood silently and watched them pass by, in singles and in pairs, feeling a chill deep in the center of her being, like a fist closing around her heart.
* * * * *
On the street, Rath gaped at the cornball town they’d just crossed half the country to reach. Could anything be cheesier that this? UFO museums and alien themed stores, and even a fucking restaurant with a spaceship above the front door. The people here must be whacked outta their minds. What a dump.
Zan swept his eyes over the buildings along Main Street as he drove down the center of the road. He’d never seen anything like it before. Even the street lamps had black almond shaped alien eyes painted on the glass. The group of riders in front of him slowed, jockeying for position in front of a bar, but Zan kept going. He’d joined the group 20 miles out of town, thinking it gave his arrival good cover to scope out the place. There were so many of them, his Unit just blended in, but now they were parting ways. He wasn’t the drinking type, and a night in the Shipwreck Saloon wasn’t in his plans.
The flashing lights on a fake spaceship above a restaurant drew his attention and he drove past it slowly. He could feel the pull to stop, to go inside, to meet what was waiting for him beyond those double doors. He’d never felt anything quite like it before, and he fought it now. He was the one in control, and nothing, and no one, could challenge that. He continued past the restaurant and down the street.
Zan steered his Harley into the parking lot of the Tumbleweed Motel, shaking his head at the absurdity of the place. The windows of the office were adorned with painted little green aliens sitting in little silver flying saucers, and waving their little green hands. He was tempted to blast out the window with his powers, but he didn’t want to call attention to himself. Not yet. There was time to do that later, after his business here was done.
Zan brought his bike to a stop and waited for Ava to climb off before he lowered the kickstand and slid off in one fluid motion. His body moved with grace, even though he’d been driving for hours. His eyes, hidden behind his mirrored shades, turned to look at Rath.
“Shit,” Rath cursed. “Look at this place! It’s a fuckin’ joke.”
Lonnie climbed off the back of Rath’s bike trying to stretch her aching muscles, and bitchin’ up a storm. “Are we stuck in the fuckin’ Twilight Zone or somethin’? Did you see that spaceship back there, the one above the restaurant? Are these people fuckin’ nuts?”
Zan took a few steps away from the others and slowly lowered his shades. The flashing lights down the street were calling him, the façade of the café somehow familiar looking. He’d seen those lights before, in a dream. She’d been standing under them with her face in shadows. Her cheeks had been stained with tears, though the rest of her remained hidden from him. In the dream, he’d held her in his arms while she cried against his shoulder.
“Where we gonna eat?” Rath rubbed his hand over his growling stomach. “This place ain’t got no Mickey D’s.”
“Stay here,” Zan slipped his shades back on and headed toward the street.
“Hey! Where the fuck ya goin’? I’m hungry here,” Rath whined, watching Zan’s retreating back.
Zan silently turned around and stared at him through the dark lenses, without saying a word. Rath wilted under that mirrored stare and looked away, keeping his mouth shut. It always got him in trouble. He knew how far he could push Zan, and he’d just come dangerously close to crossing the line.
“Get a room,” Zan ordered, “and stay there ‘til I get back.”
“One night or two?” Lonnie asked. Their missions never took long. Slide in under the cop’s radar, and slide out before anyone noticed. They’d been doing it for over ten years, ever since the pods spit them out.
“Rent it for the month. Get the biggest room they got, with a kitchen.” Zan finished his instructions and resumed his course toward the flashing neon lights down the street.
“A month?” Ava was so startled she actually said the words aloud. Lonnie just stood there with her mouth hanging open. When had Zan ever wanted to spend a month anywhere? He’d always been restless, like he was searching for something, and constantly moving trying to find it.
“Fuck!” Rath kicked his bike, pissed at the prospect of spending anything more than a day in this one horse town. The bike started to topple over, which made him swear again. He grabbed the handlebars and glared at Zan’s back, grumbling aloud, “Has he lost his fuckin’ mind?”
* * * * *
Zan opened the front door and was greeted by the dull roar of a crowded restaurant in the middle of a dinner rush. He stepped inside, scoping out the middle-aged geezer at the register and the waitresses running around in silly ass uniforms.
“Fuck me,” Zan grumbled under his breath, sweeping his gaze over the tacky alien décor that filled the place. Based on the size of the crowd, he decided the food must be damn good, because the atmosphere sure sucked. He was about to remove his shades, when the door at the back of the restaurant opened and his hand froze in place.
A blonde walked through the door, followed by a short brunette. The blonde he didn’t know or care about, but the dark haired girl he’d seen before. She was the one. The girl from the orb. His latest target. He slipped into the empty booth by the front window, watching her as she moved gracefully around the café. The girls were deep in conversation, and Zan listened carefully, intent on their every word.
“Your dad’s gonna go ballistic if you break anything else. He said he was going to start docking our pay for everything we break.”
“He did not!” Liz defended her father.
“Oh! That’s right. That was you, during your reign as Assistant Manager from Hell!”
“I wasn’t that bad!” Liz shot back.
“Liz,” Maria rolled her eyes. “You color coded the schedule!” Liz sighed and Maria turned to her, cupping her cheeks between her hands. “Max must be wearing you out, chica,” she rubbed her thumbs over the dark circles under Liz’s eyes. “That’s what happens when you do all nighters!”
“Maria!” Liz scolded and darted a look toward her father. It was bad enough that Max’s dad knew. She could only imagine what her father would say. She doubted it would be anything as simple as ‘Be careful. Use a condom.’
“Your dad can’t hear us,” Maria smirked. Looking over toward Max’s customary booth, she asked, “Where is lover boy anyway?”
“Working. Which is what you should be doing,” Liz pointed vaguely toward the front of the restaurant, changing the subject. “You have a customer,”
Maria sauntered off with a smile on her face. Liz was so easy to ruffle. She took her order pad out of her pocket as she neared the front booth, still laughing on the inside.
“Can I take your or – der . . .?”
The words stuck in her throat and she couldn’t help staring at the guy. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his wild hair and stubbled chin and his leather clad bod screamed sex appeal. He was one hot tamale. He pulled a pack of smokes out of the inside pocket of his leather vest, exposing a few inches of his gorgeous chest. He shook out a cigarette and wedged it between his lips.
“Ah . . .” Maria tried to pull her tongue back in her mouth. “No smoking,” she pointed at the sign posted on the wall next to the register.
“Is that fuckin’ right?” Zan flicked his lighter and brought the flame to the tip of his cigarette.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Maria grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth and snapped it in two. “And if you haven’t noticed,” she bitched him out. “This is a family restaurant, so watch your language.”
Zan’s eyes flared behind his shades. No one ever talked to him like that, at least not and lived to tell about it.
“So, welcome to the Crashdown,” Maria forced herself to be polite. The guy might be gorgeous in a bad boy kind of way, but he was a jerk. “Can I take your order?”
“Four burgers. To go.”
“Would that be the Mercury Bacon Burger, or the Will Smith, or the –”
“Surprise me,” Zan cut her off.
“Bite me,” Maria mumbled to herself and then plastered on one of her patented smiles reserved for ‘Customers from Hell’. “I’ll be right back with your order!”
She turned on her heel and headed toward the pass-through to the kitchen. Surprise him! She’d surprise him, with a lougie right in the middle of his burger. Asshole. But he was a cute asshole. He looked a little familiar, or maybe it was his voice, but she couldn’t place him. She didn’t know any bikers, except her Uncle Eddie on her father’s side, and she hadn’t seen him in years.
“I’ll be so glad when this day is over,” Liz came up beside Maria.
“You and me, both,” Maria agreed. She pointed over her shoulder to the front of the restaurant. “You stuck me with one of Hell’s Angels up there.”
Liz shot a look toward the front of the restaurant, seeing the leather-clad biker in the first booth. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, with long hair and tattoos covering his muscular arms. His eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, which for some reason gave her the creeps. Her dream, or vision, or whatever the hell happened to her a little while ago flashed over her again, sending a shiver down her spine.
Zan sat in the booth with his eyes fixed on the brunette. Liz Parker. Target confirmed. His hand idly toyed with the two halves of the cigarette the blonde waitress had taken from his mouth and dropped on the table in front of him. A moment later he returned the now whole cigarette to the pack and returned it to his pocket. Maybe he’d let Rath have a go at the blonde, even though she wasn’t on the list. He’d enjoy watching Rath make her scream.
The brunette, on the other hand, was going to be all his. Liz. Liz Parker. He could taste her already.
Stop by next Sunday to see what happens next
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Author note: It seems everyone was happy to get a little respite last week from all the angsty stuff. I'm glad you liked it. Now on with the story . . .
Aftermath
Part 32
Lonnie shuffled into the kitchen wearing a tight t-shirt and skimpy pair of panties, her usual morning attire. She pushed her hair back but it didn’t make it look any different than it normally did, just a mess of brown curls around her face. Zan scrutinized her with a critical eye from across the room.
“You’re gettin’ fat sittin’ around doin’ nothin’ between hits,” he pushed away from the window and prowled in her direction.
“Fuck you –”
Zan grabbed her arm and yanked her to him. His fingers dug into her flesh, exerting his will over her, hissing into her face, “Fat means slow, and we can’t afford slow. You do as I say.”
“Alright, alright,” Lonnie lost the attitude and backed down. She held her arms up in surrender, not wanting to be on his bad side. He didn’t have just a stick up his butt this morning, he had a whole fuckin’ forest. “I’ll get in shape.”
“Damn straight,” he shoved her away. He was The Man, and he didn’t let any of them forget it.
Ava came into the room and silently made her way to the coffee pot. Lonnie moved away from Zan and joined her there. “You better take care of Cujo over there, before he gets any meaner.”
Ava stole a fearful look in Zan’s direction, but his attention was focused on the weapons he was loading into his backpack. They never used their powers for the actual hit. They had to make it look human, using human weapons, which worked out fine for Zan. He liked his toys, the deadlier the better.
Lonnie watched him too, and when his cold gaze settled on her again she whispered, “Oh shit.” No one liked to be the focus of Zan’s attention.
“Did you recon last night?” His tone demanded a quick answer.
“Yeah, o’ course.” No one ever disobeyed his direct orders.
“What’d ya see?”
“I don’t know, it was all fucked up,” Lonnie shrugged. “She was dreaming ‘bout workin’ in a restaurant on Halloween or somethin’. Wearing this weird costume. But the weirdest thing is – you was there.”
His head shot up, narrowing his eyes at her and she hastily added, “Not you, but like a younger GQ version of you. You clean up real nice,” she smirked, but Zan wasn’t amused.
“She was dreamin’ of me?” Zan felt the hackles rise on his neck.
“Yeah. No. It was fucked up,” Lonnie whined. “I probably got my wires crossed. I’ll be able to dream ‘er better when we get closer to Roswell. You know it don’t work good long distance.”
“Yeah,” Zan said gruffly and shoved a box of ammo in the backpack. That unsettled air about him thickened and Ava tried to disappear. She walked toward the living room hoping he wouldn’t notice her.
“C’mere,” his hand shot out and grabbed her arm as she tried to skirt around him, making her spill her coffee on the rug. She bit back a whimper, keeping her head down and trying to hold in the sound as he dragged her across the apartment and into the bedroom. She had a job to do before they hit the road.
“Wass up?” Rath sauntered into the room, scratching his hand through his latest punked out hairdo.
“Same ol, same ol,” Lonnie stared at the closed bedroom door. She thanked her lucky stars everyday that Rath was her pod-mate. He might be dumber than shit, but at least he wasn’t a rabid animal like Zan.
* * * * *
Max pushed through the doors into the back room of the Crashdown, with a smile creeping over his face at the sight of the object of his desire, the most beautiful waitress in the world. She was tying her apron in place, and she hadn’t noticed him yet. He walked up behind her and slid his hands around her waist.
“You want some help?” his lips hovered close to her ear, using that sexy tone reserved solely for her.
“Hi,” Liz smiled at him over her shoulder and turned around to face him. His lips covered hers in a good morning kiss, hot enough to be less than chaste, but innocent enough not to warrant being chased out of the restaurant by her dad if he should happen to walk in.
“I missed you,” Max leaned his forehead into hers.
“It’s only been an hour,” Liz toyed with the edges of his UFO Center vest. Her skin still hummed from all the places he’d touched her during the night.
“Yeah, about that,” Max cleared his throat and straightened to his full height.
“What?” the smile left Liz’s face, sensing something was wrong.
“Well,” his cheeks took on a pink hue. “My, um,” he fumbled with how to tell her. “My dad kind of, well, kind of . . . knows where you slept last night, or didn’t sleep, as the case may be.”
“WHAT?” Liz nearly shouted. She covered her mouth with her hand to hold it in while Max nodded in embarrassment.
“He confronted me at breakfast –”
“You mean, he – us – we? Your Mom? Does she know too?”
“No, no,” Max tried to reassure her. “It was just my dad and me. I guess maybe he . . . heard us, or something . . .”
“Oh my God!” Liz felt her face explode with heat. Her cheeks had never been so red before. “He heard us?”
“Yeah,” he cringed, “I think so.” With a glint in his eye, he added, “He asked how it went, and I told him you were really good –”
“MAX!” Liz hit him hard on the chest and he burst out laughing.
“Kidding!” he pulled her into his arms. “He gave me ‘The Talk’. I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.”
“Oh, god, Max,” Liz covered her face with her hands. How could she ever look at his father again?
“Sorry,” his smile turned into an embarrassed grin. He bit at his lower lip and said, “We just have to be more careful next time.” In more ways than one.
“No!” Liz threw up her hands and headed toward the door into the restaurant. “No more next time! That is like so not gonna happen. Never, never, ever again!”
WHAT? No more? Never again? She didn’t really mean that, did she?
“Liz?” the smile fled his face and he chased her into the café. “LIZ?” When he reached her he grabbed her arm and desperately turned her around. “You don’t mean that, do you?”
“No,” she relented, unable to resist his poor little boy look. She smiled at him and he sagged in relief and smiled back. They leaned into each other, their foreheads touching, oblivious to the world around them.
“Good,” Max held her tight, happier than he thought he had any right to be. They might be on the verge of facing a battle to save the planet, but as long as he had Liz, he could face anything.
* * * * *
Zan roared down the highway feeling the high powered vibrations of the Harley between his legs. Black leather pants molded to his muscular thighs, while the wind rippled his leather vest and his long hair streamed behind him. Mirrored sunglasses cloaked his eyes.
The morning sun chased him, warming as the day progressed, soaking into his bulging biceps and muscular forearms, tanning his weathered skin. His rough hands gripped the handlebars, barely aware of Ava on the seat behind him, he’d become so accustomed to her presence there. Her arms circled around his waist and she tried not to move a muscle during the endless hours of driving.
The desert landscape flashed by but Zan barely noticed it. His thoughts were a hundred miles away – one hundred and thirty to be precise, according to the road sign they’d just passed.
Roswell was just up ahead, less than two hours away now, and counting . . .
* * * * *
Liz carried an armload of plates to a table in the center of the restaurant and efficiently began to pass them out.
“One Blue Moon Plate, with extra Lunar sauce,” Liz put the hamburger in front of a small boy sitting next to a harried looking woman. “And one Worf salad with Nebula dressing –”
“I didn’t order that,” the woman pointed at the hamburger.
“The Blue Moon Plate,” Liz looked at it. “Hamburger with cheese.”
“He can’t eat all that!” the woman snapped. She slapped at the boy’s hand as he tried to grab a french fry off the plate in front of him. His eyes had grown as big as saucers when Liz put it there. “He’s three! What happened to his Meteor Meal?”
“His . . .?” Liz looked baffled.
“Miss?” a man in the neighboring booth raised his hand to get her attention. “I think the Blue Moon Plate is mine.”
* * * * *
The desert sun beat down on the road creating distant pools of shimmering mirages. The flat terrain stretched from horizon to horizon, but Zan was oblivious to it. His face was impassive behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, but his mind was active, alert, gripped by anticipation. He would see her soon. The target. The girl.
Images of her flashed through his mind, pictures from the orb, her dark hair, her innocent smile, the mesmerizing dark eyes that dominated her face.
Would her voice sound lyrical, like music? Or sultry to suit her sensuality? He could almost hear it now, drifting on the wind to him, calling him, calling his name. She was so close he could feel her, underneath his skin.
Was she the one? The one he’d been dreaming about for months now? The one with the shadowed face? Was it just a coincidence that Lonnie said she was dreaming of him, too?
Soon. He would meet her soon . . .
* * * * *
“Table 5!” Michael slammed his hand against the bell, smirking at the frazzled look on Liz’s face. Tourist season must be starting early. The restaurant had never been busier.
Liz pushed loose strands of hair back from her face as she hurried to the pass-through. She grabbed a steaming plate from the shelf and turned quickly, too quickly. The plate toppled out of her hand and crashed to the floor, breaking into pieces and echoing around the restaurant like a gun shot. Space fries flew everywhere.
“Damn!” she felt like stomping her foot. She’d had a bad morning and it looked like the afternoon wasn’t getting any better.
“You’re off your game,” Maria skirted around the mess on the floor, loaded down with plates of her own.
Liz sighed in exasperation and dropped to her knees to clean up the mess. Maria joined her a moment later with a plastic tub used to bus the tables.
“Are you all right?” she helped pick up the broken shards of the plate and deposited them in the tub. “It’s not like you to get orders wrong and break plates. That’s Michael’s specialty.”
“I’m just a little tired,” Liz blew her hair out of her face.
“Max keep you up all night?” Maria teased and then her mouth fell open when Liz turned beet red. “He DID, didn’t he! You so have to tell me everything!”
“Maria,” Liz sighed. She knew Maria wouldn’t let it go until she got all the details.
“You, me, later, ice cream!” Maria enthused.
Liz smiled, she couldn’t help herself. Who could keep a secret around Maria and a bowl of ice cream? Liz was reaching for the last piece of broken plate when her world suddenly shifted. The room around her tilted and faded out, replaced by the roar of an engine filling her ears and sunlight glinting off something dark, something curved, mirrors to hide behind.
“Liz?” Maria stared at Liz’s slack expression. “Liz?”
“Something’s coming . . .”
Maria felt a chill go up her spine. Liz’s eyes looked unfocused and the tone of her voice was giving her the creeps.
“Something’s coming . . .”
“Liz!” Maria grabbed her friend’s upper arms, shaking Liz out of her trance, or stupor, or whatever the hell had just happened to her. “Liz! What’s wrong?”
“What?” Liz swam back into focus. Something weird had just happened, but she wasn’t sure what. The vision of mirrors faded, but not the sound.
“What just happened?” Maria demanded.
The two girls rose to their feet with Liz shaking her head in denial. “Nothing. It was . . . nothing.”
The sound grew louder, turning into the deep roar of engines, drawing Liz’s gaze toward the front windows. Her heart rate doubled in anticipation, waiting, for what she didn’t know. A motorcycle appeared on the street in front of the restaurant, moving from left to right across the window. It was followed by another, and another, 5, 10, 15 or more, filling the streets of Roswell with the sound. The late afternoon sunlight glinted off the darkly curved surface of the riders’ helmets.
Liz stood silently and watched them pass by, in singles and in pairs, feeling a chill deep in the center of her being, like a fist closing around her heart.
* * * * *
On the street, Rath gaped at the cornball town they’d just crossed half the country to reach. Could anything be cheesier that this? UFO museums and alien themed stores, and even a fucking restaurant with a spaceship above the front door. The people here must be whacked outta their minds. What a dump.
Zan swept his eyes over the buildings along Main Street as he drove down the center of the road. He’d never seen anything like it before. Even the street lamps had black almond shaped alien eyes painted on the glass. The group of riders in front of him slowed, jockeying for position in front of a bar, but Zan kept going. He’d joined the group 20 miles out of town, thinking it gave his arrival good cover to scope out the place. There were so many of them, his Unit just blended in, but now they were parting ways. He wasn’t the drinking type, and a night in the Shipwreck Saloon wasn’t in his plans.
The flashing lights on a fake spaceship above a restaurant drew his attention and he drove past it slowly. He could feel the pull to stop, to go inside, to meet what was waiting for him beyond those double doors. He’d never felt anything quite like it before, and he fought it now. He was the one in control, and nothing, and no one, could challenge that. He continued past the restaurant and down the street.
Zan steered his Harley into the parking lot of the Tumbleweed Motel, shaking his head at the absurdity of the place. The windows of the office were adorned with painted little green aliens sitting in little silver flying saucers, and waving their little green hands. He was tempted to blast out the window with his powers, but he didn’t want to call attention to himself. Not yet. There was time to do that later, after his business here was done.
Zan brought his bike to a stop and waited for Ava to climb off before he lowered the kickstand and slid off in one fluid motion. His body moved with grace, even though he’d been driving for hours. His eyes, hidden behind his mirrored shades, turned to look at Rath.
“Shit,” Rath cursed. “Look at this place! It’s a fuckin’ joke.”
Lonnie climbed off the back of Rath’s bike trying to stretch her aching muscles, and bitchin’ up a storm. “Are we stuck in the fuckin’ Twilight Zone or somethin’? Did you see that spaceship back there, the one above the restaurant? Are these people fuckin’ nuts?”
Zan took a few steps away from the others and slowly lowered his shades. The flashing lights down the street were calling him, the façade of the café somehow familiar looking. He’d seen those lights before, in a dream. She’d been standing under them with her face in shadows. Her cheeks had been stained with tears, though the rest of her remained hidden from him. In the dream, he’d held her in his arms while she cried against his shoulder.
“Where we gonna eat?” Rath rubbed his hand over his growling stomach. “This place ain’t got no Mickey D’s.”
“Stay here,” Zan slipped his shades back on and headed toward the street.
“Hey! Where the fuck ya goin’? I’m hungry here,” Rath whined, watching Zan’s retreating back.
Zan silently turned around and stared at him through the dark lenses, without saying a word. Rath wilted under that mirrored stare and looked away, keeping his mouth shut. It always got him in trouble. He knew how far he could push Zan, and he’d just come dangerously close to crossing the line.
“Get a room,” Zan ordered, “and stay there ‘til I get back.”
“One night or two?” Lonnie asked. Their missions never took long. Slide in under the cop’s radar, and slide out before anyone noticed. They’d been doing it for over ten years, ever since the pods spit them out.
“Rent it for the month. Get the biggest room they got, with a kitchen.” Zan finished his instructions and resumed his course toward the flashing neon lights down the street.
“A month?” Ava was so startled she actually said the words aloud. Lonnie just stood there with her mouth hanging open. When had Zan ever wanted to spend a month anywhere? He’d always been restless, like he was searching for something, and constantly moving trying to find it.
“Fuck!” Rath kicked his bike, pissed at the prospect of spending anything more than a day in this one horse town. The bike started to topple over, which made him swear again. He grabbed the handlebars and glared at Zan’s back, grumbling aloud, “Has he lost his fuckin’ mind?”
* * * * *
Zan opened the front door and was greeted by the dull roar of a crowded restaurant in the middle of a dinner rush. He stepped inside, scoping out the middle-aged geezer at the register and the waitresses running around in silly ass uniforms.
“Fuck me,” Zan grumbled under his breath, sweeping his gaze over the tacky alien décor that filled the place. Based on the size of the crowd, he decided the food must be damn good, because the atmosphere sure sucked. He was about to remove his shades, when the door at the back of the restaurant opened and his hand froze in place.
A blonde walked through the door, followed by a short brunette. The blonde he didn’t know or care about, but the dark haired girl he’d seen before. She was the one. The girl from the orb. His latest target. He slipped into the empty booth by the front window, watching her as she moved gracefully around the café. The girls were deep in conversation, and Zan listened carefully, intent on their every word.
“Your dad’s gonna go ballistic if you break anything else. He said he was going to start docking our pay for everything we break.”
“He did not!” Liz defended her father.
“Oh! That’s right. That was you, during your reign as Assistant Manager from Hell!”
“I wasn’t that bad!” Liz shot back.
“Liz,” Maria rolled her eyes. “You color coded the schedule!” Liz sighed and Maria turned to her, cupping her cheeks between her hands. “Max must be wearing you out, chica,” she rubbed her thumbs over the dark circles under Liz’s eyes. “That’s what happens when you do all nighters!”
“Maria!” Liz scolded and darted a look toward her father. It was bad enough that Max’s dad knew. She could only imagine what her father would say. She doubted it would be anything as simple as ‘Be careful. Use a condom.’
“Your dad can’t hear us,” Maria smirked. Looking over toward Max’s customary booth, she asked, “Where is lover boy anyway?”
“Working. Which is what you should be doing,” Liz pointed vaguely toward the front of the restaurant, changing the subject. “You have a customer,”
Maria sauntered off with a smile on her face. Liz was so easy to ruffle. She took her order pad out of her pocket as she neared the front booth, still laughing on the inside.
“Can I take your or – der . . .?”
The words stuck in her throat and she couldn’t help staring at the guy. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his wild hair and stubbled chin and his leather clad bod screamed sex appeal. He was one hot tamale. He pulled a pack of smokes out of the inside pocket of his leather vest, exposing a few inches of his gorgeous chest. He shook out a cigarette and wedged it between his lips.
“Ah . . .” Maria tried to pull her tongue back in her mouth. “No smoking,” she pointed at the sign posted on the wall next to the register.
“Is that fuckin’ right?” Zan flicked his lighter and brought the flame to the tip of his cigarette.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Maria grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth and snapped it in two. “And if you haven’t noticed,” she bitched him out. “This is a family restaurant, so watch your language.”
Zan’s eyes flared behind his shades. No one ever talked to him like that, at least not and lived to tell about it.
“So, welcome to the Crashdown,” Maria forced herself to be polite. The guy might be gorgeous in a bad boy kind of way, but he was a jerk. “Can I take your order?”
“Four burgers. To go.”
“Would that be the Mercury Bacon Burger, or the Will Smith, or the –”
“Surprise me,” Zan cut her off.
“Bite me,” Maria mumbled to herself and then plastered on one of her patented smiles reserved for ‘Customers from Hell’. “I’ll be right back with your order!”
She turned on her heel and headed toward the pass-through to the kitchen. Surprise him! She’d surprise him, with a lougie right in the middle of his burger. Asshole. But he was a cute asshole. He looked a little familiar, or maybe it was his voice, but she couldn’t place him. She didn’t know any bikers, except her Uncle Eddie on her father’s side, and she hadn’t seen him in years.
“I’ll be so glad when this day is over,” Liz came up beside Maria.
“You and me, both,” Maria agreed. She pointed over her shoulder to the front of the restaurant. “You stuck me with one of Hell’s Angels up there.”
Liz shot a look toward the front of the restaurant, seeing the leather-clad biker in the first booth. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, with long hair and tattoos covering his muscular arms. His eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, which for some reason gave her the creeps. Her dream, or vision, or whatever the hell happened to her a little while ago flashed over her again, sending a shiver down her spine.
Zan sat in the booth with his eyes fixed on the brunette. Liz Parker. Target confirmed. His hand idly toyed with the two halves of the cigarette the blonde waitress had taken from his mouth and dropped on the table in front of him. A moment later he returned the now whole cigarette to the pack and returned it to his pocket. Maybe he’d let Rath have a go at the blonde, even though she wasn’t on the list. He’d enjoy watching Rath make her scream.
The brunette, on the other hand, was going to be all his. Liz. Liz Parker. He could taste her already.
Stop by next Sunday to see what happens next
-
Breathless
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 254
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: Somewhere in ficland
Aftermath Part 33
Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Aftermath
Part 33
Zan leaned back in the Crashdown booth with one arm draped over the backrest. The café was typical of a thousand other restaurants he’d eaten in over the years, except for the alien theme that permeated the place. He was half tempted to take the owner out in the back alley and beat him senseless just for thinking up a stupid restaurant like this, but then decided the old geezer probably was already too brain dead to know what the beating was for. He’d bet his left nut the guy had been a stoner back in the day.
“Lizzie,” Jeff called out from the register. “Can you run to the back and get me a roll of quarters?”
“Sure,” Liz finished topping off a cup of coffee at the counter before setting the carafe on the warmer. She glanced at her dad, seeing him handing out a fistful of nickels as change. A smile spread across her face watching him charm the little old lady into taking them. Her smile faded when her gaze wandered over to the unsettling customer in the first booth. Maria had delivered his food to him 20 minutes ago, but he hadn’t moved since. He was still sitting there nursing a cup of coffee, and watching everyone from behind his mirrored shades. He made her feel on edge, but she wasn’t sure why.
Maybe because every time she turned her back she could feel his eyes on her. She darted looks at him every few minutes, but she couldn’t catch him at it. It was impossible to tell what he was looking at from behind those sunglasses.
Liz hurried into the back and headed for her father’s office where they kept the safe. She retrieved the quarters and then grabbed a roll of nickels, too. She left the office and moved back to the door into the café, pausing there to look through the diamond shaped window. A sense of relief swept through her when she saw the first booth was now empty. The biker must have finally left. Feeling her tension ease, she pushed through the door into the restaurant headed straight for her dad.
Zan stepped out of the restroom and fell into step behind the dark haired girl. By design, his boots made no sound on the floor. Stealth was important in his line of work. He followed her to the front of the café, watching the way she moved, inhaling the way she smelled. Her sex was ripe, in bloom, waiting to be plucked. His nostrils flared with the scent of her.
“Here you go,” Liz handed the quarters to her dad.
Jeff looked at her apologetically and asked, ‘Can you get me some nick –”
Liz grinned and held up the roll of nickels. He laughed when she dropped it in his hand, amazed at how on top of things she always was. He didn’t know how he’d ever sired a child as smart as her.
Liz’s eyes flashed with humor as she turned around, only to run smack into a wall of unbending flesh, muscle and bone. She bounced off the incredibly hard chest, momentarily stunned by the impact. A pair of strong hands grabbed her shoulders to steady her. She looked up to see her own image reflected back at her by the mirrored lenses that covered his eyes.
“I – I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “I didn’t see you. Sorry.”
“S’okay,” Zan’s voice came out gruffly. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and she sidestepped around him. He proceeded to the register to pay for his meal, outwardly acting as if their brief contact hadn’t affected him, while inside he reeled from it. The moment he touched her he’d gotten a flash, of two bodies locked together intimately, warm skin to warm skin, lips kissing, fingers touching, hands caressing. It was all he could do to keep from dragging her out of the restaurant and back to his motel room.
Liz backed away feeling even more unsettled than before. There was something about him, something she couldn’t put her finger on. He seemed so familiar, but she couldn’t see his eyes and it kept throwing her off. For a second there, she thought he smelled like Max, but that was before she’d looked up to see him. He was rough, and scruffy, about as different from Max as night and day. She walked away, sensing him behind her, watching her again.
Zan finished paying for his meal and walked back to the booth to retrieve the bag of food. It didn’t matter that it was cold, it would only take a moment to warm it up again. The bell above the front door chimed and Zan glanced over, totally unprepared for what he saw. He let out a startled, “Fuck!”
Zan watched a younger GQ version of himself walk into the restaurant headed straight for Liz. The hackles rose on the back of his neck and he turned, ready to spring into action. No fucking way was he letting a replacement take out his mark. Who sent in backup, and why? Zan lifted his hand preparing to blast GQ across the room, but what happened next stunned him into immobility.
Max crossed the floor of the Crashdown and made a beeline straight for Liz. He wrapped his arms around her waist and said huskily into her ear, “Hey, beautiful. How’s my girl?”
“Max!” Liz laughed and turned around to face him. He leaned down to kiss her, but she noticed her father watching disapprovingly and pushed Max back. “Not here,” she warned.
Max saw her looking behind his shoulder and he turned to see Jeff Parker glaring in their direction. His hands flew off Liz. He’d been so intent on her when he came in; he hadn’t even noticed her dad. The chimes rang out when the front door opened to let a leather-clad customer out, but Max didn’t notice him either. He was too busy feeling embarrassed over being busted again.
Liz took his hand and led Max to his favorite booth. They stood beside it, face to face, lost in each other’s eyes, not even aware of the restaurant around them anymore.
“Did you think about me today?” Liz asked, running her fingers lightly over his UFO Center vest.
“Just once,” Max said matter-of-factly. His finger stroked over her cheek, just wanting to touch her.
“Only once?” Liz looked up at him, unable to hide the disappointment. She’d thought about him a hundred times throughout the day, and he’d only thought about her once?
“Yeah,” Max nodded, and then a smile spread over his face. “From the moment I woke up this morning until I walked in that door a minute ago, you’ve been the only thing on my mind.”
“Really?” Liz melted into him.
“Really,” he kissed her lips, not caring if anyone saw.
When they parted, Max noticed how she focused on his lips, and then her brows knitted together in a pensive frown. Feeling unsettled, he asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” Liz tore her eyes away from the tiny birthmark above his upper lip. An image flashed before her eyes of a man with long dark hair and mirrored sunglasses – with a mole above his upper lip almost obscured by the scruffy hairs of a days old beard. She looked toward the front of the Café, but the guy in the booth by the window was gone.
“You okay?” Max looked at her with concern. A lot of shit had gone down lately, and he wanted to make sure she was coping with it.
“Fine,” Liz pushed her rambling thoughts aside and smiled reassuringly at him. So what if that biker guy had a birthmark in the same place as Max. Lots of people had moles on their upper lips . . . right? She looked over his shoulder again, staring out the front window of the Crashdown, but the street looked empty. She couldn’t see the figure across the street hiding in the shadows.
* * * * *
Zan stood cloaked in the growing darkness, blending into his surroundings, with only the tip of his glowing cigarette exposing his location. He was good at this, watching, waiting, biding his time. His eyes saw everything, the cars passing by on the street, the old couple walking out of the camera shop on the corner, the young mother pushing a stroller down the sidewalk. He blocked all those things out, focusing instead on the dark haired waitress across the street, wondering why her status had been elevated to high priority.
What was so special about her? And why was he so drawn to her? That had never happened to him before. Even when the Awakening seized him and he mated with Ava, there hadn’t been this need, this desire, inside him. His mating with Ava had been physical, a part of the process needed to attain unification. In all the years since, it had never been anything more than that, just a physical need that had to be satisfied, until last fall, when things started changing. When the dreams began.
The first one had been nothing but fragmented pictures, a rush of images so fast he couldn’t decipher them. The only thing familiar about it had been the sound of his own voice echoing inside his head.
The desert at night.
“I’ve never tried this before . . .”
Headlights cutting through the darkness.
“Maybe I can make the connection go the other way . . .”
A school playground. A big yellow bus.
“I have to touch you . . .”
His hands, on her face, with a tenderness he’d never known.
“Just take deep breaths, and try to let your mind blank out . . .”
And then there was only her eyes, big dark eyes, staring back into his, and the sound of his voice asking the inexplicable.
“Did it work?”
The sound of Lonnie’s voice pulled Zan out of his thoughts. Anger boiled inside him that she’d violated a direct order not to leave the motel, until he focused on what she was saying. She walked into view and he took a startled step back, deeper into the shadows.
“Fuck,” Zan whispered at the sight of Lonnie, with long blonde hair, walking down the sidewalk with Ava by her side. As he listened, it became obvious by their conversation that they weren’t his Lonnie and Ava.
“We have to go to support Alex and his band,” Isabel insisted with a flip of her hair. “Besides, it’ll be fun to do something normal for a change.”
“I’ve never been to a dance,” Tess said with a wistful note in her voice.
“You’ll have a blast, and you can dance with Kyle all night.”
Tess stopped in mid step, with her face turning hot. “Why would I want to do that!”
Isabel rolled her eyes and stepped off the curb, headed across the street to the Crashdown.
“No, wait!” Tess chased after her. “Why did you say that? Did Kyle say something? Do you think he – Isabel! Did he say something about me?”
Their chatter cut off when they stepped into the Crashdown and Zan moved out of the shadows. This was getting crazier by the minute. ‘Isabel’ was almost the spitting image of Lonnie, except younger and blonde. The little blonde was a replica of Ava, right down to the curly hair. The girls moved across the restaurant and joined the booth his own double was sitting in. A minute later a door opened at the back of the cafe and a Rath look alike stepped through, removing a bandana from around his head.
Zan’s hand tightened around the paper bag he was holding, crushing the food inside. This was his assignment, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here.
His harsh voice uttered into the growing shadows, “What the fuck is going on?”
* * * * *
“So it’s settled, then,” Isabel leaned back into the booth. “We’ll meet here at 7:00 tomorrow night and drive over to Hondo. The dance starts at 9:00.”
“I don’t know,” Michael hedged. “ESPN’s giving a run down on the hockey draft –”
“Hello!” Maria slapped him across the top of the head. “I’m singing! Do ya think you could muster a little enthusiasm?”
“I’ve heard you sing before!” Michael complained and rubbed his head.
“You’re coming with us,” Isabel glared at him.
“Shit,” Michael grumbled. He hit Max on the shoulder and barked, “Scoot over.”
Max climbed out of the booth instead, leaving Michael to crash and burn on his own. He made his way across the Crashdown, waiting patiently until Liz was finished ringing up a customer.
“Hey you,” she smiled at Max when the customer left.
Max brushed her hair back from her face, tucking the loose strands behind her ear. He thought she looked a little frazzled, and more than a little tired, and a pang of guilt shot through him. If he hadn’t kept her up last night –
“Stop it,” Liz pinned him with a look.
“Stop what?” Max feigned innocence.
“Don’t give me that look,” Liz poked him in the chest.
“What look?”
“That look you get when you’re feeling guilty. I can always tell, you know. You can’t hide anything from me.” She brushed past him, and he tailed along behind her.
“You think you know me so well,” Max challenged. “So what am I thinking right now?”
Liz turned around and looked him up and down. “Let’s see . . . .”
She tapped her fingers against her cheek in mock contemplation, and then said, “You feel guilty because you think I look tired, and you’re blaming yourself for keeping me up all night. You feel guilty because I missed that math final when we went out to the lake, and the B I got in Calculus blew my 4.0 grade point average. You’re worried that I won’t make it into Harvard, even though I still have 2 years of high school to get through. You’re worried about going to the dance tomorrow night because it’s in Hondo, and you don’t know the people in Hondo. You’re worried that someone might be out to get me, and you won’t see it coming until it’s too late. You’re –”
“Okay,” Max broke in, giving her a guilty smile. “You know me that well.”
“Max,” Liz smoothed her hand over his chest. “Everything that happens to me isn’t your fault. Good things and bad things are going to happen. You’re one of the good things.”
“I just want you to be safe, Liz,” Max cupped her face. She was the most important thing in the world to him. He couldn’t live with himself if anything ever happened to her because of him.
“I am safe,” she covered his hand with hers. “As long as I’m with you.”
* * * * *
Zan neared the Tumbleweed Motel, deep in thought about what he’d seen at the Crashdown, until he saw Rath and Lonnie on the back of one of the bikes, getting ready to ride. He shot his hand out and used his power to kill the engine. They weren’t going anywhere without his permission.
Rath whipped his head around, then sagged, knowing what was coming. Ava stood a few feet away, timidly watching. She’d tried to warn Rath not to go, but of course he wouldn’t listen.
“What the fuck you doin’?” Zan got in Rath’s face, his voice as cold as ice. “I told you not to leave the room.”
“We was hungry,” Lonnie got off the bike and stepped back. She didn’t think he’d hurt her out here in the parking lot, but she couldn’t be sure. “You said you was gettin’ some food, but you didn’t come back . . .”
“Here,” Zan shoved the bag against her chest, crushing the contents. He grabbed her chin and squeezed it, bringing her face up to his. “Next time I say stay in the room, you stay in the fuckin’ room.”
“Zan –” Rath started but instantly regretted it.
“And you,” Zan whirled on him. “You don’t get any ‘next times’.”
Rath fell to his knees, clutching his head between his hands. Zan knew how to do things the rest of them didn’t. Like healing . . . and hurting. Rath doubled over, feeling like his head was ready to explode.
“Zan!” Ava ran forward and grabbed his arm. “Not here! People can see!”
Zan broke out of his rage and focused on the blonde in front of him. He grabbed her around the upper arm and growled, “Where’s the room?”
Ava led Zan to their motel room, while Lonnie went to Rath and helped him stagger to his feet. He glared at Zan’s back with hatred blazing in his eyes.
“One of these days I’m gonna kill him,” Rath growled.
“No you’re not,” Lonnie shook her head. Zan was their leader, and he kept all the secrets locked inside his head. Without him, they’d be marooned on this God forsaken planet, without any way of contacting their homeworld. They were at his mercy, whether they liked it or not.
TBC . . .
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Aftermath
Part 33
Zan leaned back in the Crashdown booth with one arm draped over the backrest. The café was typical of a thousand other restaurants he’d eaten in over the years, except for the alien theme that permeated the place. He was half tempted to take the owner out in the back alley and beat him senseless just for thinking up a stupid restaurant like this, but then decided the old geezer probably was already too brain dead to know what the beating was for. He’d bet his left nut the guy had been a stoner back in the day.
“Lizzie,” Jeff called out from the register. “Can you run to the back and get me a roll of quarters?”
“Sure,” Liz finished topping off a cup of coffee at the counter before setting the carafe on the warmer. She glanced at her dad, seeing him handing out a fistful of nickels as change. A smile spread across her face watching him charm the little old lady into taking them. Her smile faded when her gaze wandered over to the unsettling customer in the first booth. Maria had delivered his food to him 20 minutes ago, but he hadn’t moved since. He was still sitting there nursing a cup of coffee, and watching everyone from behind his mirrored shades. He made her feel on edge, but she wasn’t sure why.
Maybe because every time she turned her back she could feel his eyes on her. She darted looks at him every few minutes, but she couldn’t catch him at it. It was impossible to tell what he was looking at from behind those sunglasses.
Liz hurried into the back and headed for her father’s office where they kept the safe. She retrieved the quarters and then grabbed a roll of nickels, too. She left the office and moved back to the door into the café, pausing there to look through the diamond shaped window. A sense of relief swept through her when she saw the first booth was now empty. The biker must have finally left. Feeling her tension ease, she pushed through the door into the restaurant headed straight for her dad.
Zan stepped out of the restroom and fell into step behind the dark haired girl. By design, his boots made no sound on the floor. Stealth was important in his line of work. He followed her to the front of the café, watching the way she moved, inhaling the way she smelled. Her sex was ripe, in bloom, waiting to be plucked. His nostrils flared with the scent of her.
“Here you go,” Liz handed the quarters to her dad.
Jeff looked at her apologetically and asked, ‘Can you get me some nick –”
Liz grinned and held up the roll of nickels. He laughed when she dropped it in his hand, amazed at how on top of things she always was. He didn’t know how he’d ever sired a child as smart as her.
Liz’s eyes flashed with humor as she turned around, only to run smack into a wall of unbending flesh, muscle and bone. She bounced off the incredibly hard chest, momentarily stunned by the impact. A pair of strong hands grabbed her shoulders to steady her. She looked up to see her own image reflected back at her by the mirrored lenses that covered his eyes.
“I – I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “I didn’t see you. Sorry.”
“S’okay,” Zan’s voice came out gruffly. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and she sidestepped around him. He proceeded to the register to pay for his meal, outwardly acting as if their brief contact hadn’t affected him, while inside he reeled from it. The moment he touched her he’d gotten a flash, of two bodies locked together intimately, warm skin to warm skin, lips kissing, fingers touching, hands caressing. It was all he could do to keep from dragging her out of the restaurant and back to his motel room.
Liz backed away feeling even more unsettled than before. There was something about him, something she couldn’t put her finger on. He seemed so familiar, but she couldn’t see his eyes and it kept throwing her off. For a second there, she thought he smelled like Max, but that was before she’d looked up to see him. He was rough, and scruffy, about as different from Max as night and day. She walked away, sensing him behind her, watching her again.
Zan finished paying for his meal and walked back to the booth to retrieve the bag of food. It didn’t matter that it was cold, it would only take a moment to warm it up again. The bell above the front door chimed and Zan glanced over, totally unprepared for what he saw. He let out a startled, “Fuck!”
Zan watched a younger GQ version of himself walk into the restaurant headed straight for Liz. The hackles rose on the back of his neck and he turned, ready to spring into action. No fucking way was he letting a replacement take out his mark. Who sent in backup, and why? Zan lifted his hand preparing to blast GQ across the room, but what happened next stunned him into immobility.
Max crossed the floor of the Crashdown and made a beeline straight for Liz. He wrapped his arms around her waist and said huskily into her ear, “Hey, beautiful. How’s my girl?”
“Max!” Liz laughed and turned around to face him. He leaned down to kiss her, but she noticed her father watching disapprovingly and pushed Max back. “Not here,” she warned.
Max saw her looking behind his shoulder and he turned to see Jeff Parker glaring in their direction. His hands flew off Liz. He’d been so intent on her when he came in; he hadn’t even noticed her dad. The chimes rang out when the front door opened to let a leather-clad customer out, but Max didn’t notice him either. He was too busy feeling embarrassed over being busted again.
Liz took his hand and led Max to his favorite booth. They stood beside it, face to face, lost in each other’s eyes, not even aware of the restaurant around them anymore.
“Did you think about me today?” Liz asked, running her fingers lightly over his UFO Center vest.
“Just once,” Max said matter-of-factly. His finger stroked over her cheek, just wanting to touch her.
“Only once?” Liz looked up at him, unable to hide the disappointment. She’d thought about him a hundred times throughout the day, and he’d only thought about her once?
“Yeah,” Max nodded, and then a smile spread over his face. “From the moment I woke up this morning until I walked in that door a minute ago, you’ve been the only thing on my mind.”
“Really?” Liz melted into him.
“Really,” he kissed her lips, not caring if anyone saw.
When they parted, Max noticed how she focused on his lips, and then her brows knitted together in a pensive frown. Feeling unsettled, he asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” Liz tore her eyes away from the tiny birthmark above his upper lip. An image flashed before her eyes of a man with long dark hair and mirrored sunglasses – with a mole above his upper lip almost obscured by the scruffy hairs of a days old beard. She looked toward the front of the Café, but the guy in the booth by the window was gone.
“You okay?” Max looked at her with concern. A lot of shit had gone down lately, and he wanted to make sure she was coping with it.
“Fine,” Liz pushed her rambling thoughts aside and smiled reassuringly at him. So what if that biker guy had a birthmark in the same place as Max. Lots of people had moles on their upper lips . . . right? She looked over his shoulder again, staring out the front window of the Crashdown, but the street looked empty. She couldn’t see the figure across the street hiding in the shadows.
* * * * *
Zan stood cloaked in the growing darkness, blending into his surroundings, with only the tip of his glowing cigarette exposing his location. He was good at this, watching, waiting, biding his time. His eyes saw everything, the cars passing by on the street, the old couple walking out of the camera shop on the corner, the young mother pushing a stroller down the sidewalk. He blocked all those things out, focusing instead on the dark haired waitress across the street, wondering why her status had been elevated to high priority.
What was so special about her? And why was he so drawn to her? That had never happened to him before. Even when the Awakening seized him and he mated with Ava, there hadn’t been this need, this desire, inside him. His mating with Ava had been physical, a part of the process needed to attain unification. In all the years since, it had never been anything more than that, just a physical need that had to be satisfied, until last fall, when things started changing. When the dreams began.
The first one had been nothing but fragmented pictures, a rush of images so fast he couldn’t decipher them. The only thing familiar about it had been the sound of his own voice echoing inside his head.
The desert at night.
“I’ve never tried this before . . .”
Headlights cutting through the darkness.
“Maybe I can make the connection go the other way . . .”
A school playground. A big yellow bus.
“I have to touch you . . .”
His hands, on her face, with a tenderness he’d never known.
“Just take deep breaths, and try to let your mind blank out . . .”
And then there was only her eyes, big dark eyes, staring back into his, and the sound of his voice asking the inexplicable.
“Did it work?”
The sound of Lonnie’s voice pulled Zan out of his thoughts. Anger boiled inside him that she’d violated a direct order not to leave the motel, until he focused on what she was saying. She walked into view and he took a startled step back, deeper into the shadows.
“Fuck,” Zan whispered at the sight of Lonnie, with long blonde hair, walking down the sidewalk with Ava by her side. As he listened, it became obvious by their conversation that they weren’t his Lonnie and Ava.
“We have to go to support Alex and his band,” Isabel insisted with a flip of her hair. “Besides, it’ll be fun to do something normal for a change.”
“I’ve never been to a dance,” Tess said with a wistful note in her voice.
“You’ll have a blast, and you can dance with Kyle all night.”
Tess stopped in mid step, with her face turning hot. “Why would I want to do that!”
Isabel rolled her eyes and stepped off the curb, headed across the street to the Crashdown.
“No, wait!” Tess chased after her. “Why did you say that? Did Kyle say something? Do you think he – Isabel! Did he say something about me?”
Their chatter cut off when they stepped into the Crashdown and Zan moved out of the shadows. This was getting crazier by the minute. ‘Isabel’ was almost the spitting image of Lonnie, except younger and blonde. The little blonde was a replica of Ava, right down to the curly hair. The girls moved across the restaurant and joined the booth his own double was sitting in. A minute later a door opened at the back of the cafe and a Rath look alike stepped through, removing a bandana from around his head.
Zan’s hand tightened around the paper bag he was holding, crushing the food inside. This was his assignment, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here.
His harsh voice uttered into the growing shadows, “What the fuck is going on?”
* * * * *
“So it’s settled, then,” Isabel leaned back into the booth. “We’ll meet here at 7:00 tomorrow night and drive over to Hondo. The dance starts at 9:00.”
“I don’t know,” Michael hedged. “ESPN’s giving a run down on the hockey draft –”
“Hello!” Maria slapped him across the top of the head. “I’m singing! Do ya think you could muster a little enthusiasm?”
“I’ve heard you sing before!” Michael complained and rubbed his head.
“You’re coming with us,” Isabel glared at him.
“Shit,” Michael grumbled. He hit Max on the shoulder and barked, “Scoot over.”
Max climbed out of the booth instead, leaving Michael to crash and burn on his own. He made his way across the Crashdown, waiting patiently until Liz was finished ringing up a customer.
“Hey you,” she smiled at Max when the customer left.
Max brushed her hair back from her face, tucking the loose strands behind her ear. He thought she looked a little frazzled, and more than a little tired, and a pang of guilt shot through him. If he hadn’t kept her up last night –
“Stop it,” Liz pinned him with a look.
“Stop what?” Max feigned innocence.
“Don’t give me that look,” Liz poked him in the chest.
“What look?”
“That look you get when you’re feeling guilty. I can always tell, you know. You can’t hide anything from me.” She brushed past him, and he tailed along behind her.
“You think you know me so well,” Max challenged. “So what am I thinking right now?”
Liz turned around and looked him up and down. “Let’s see . . . .”
She tapped her fingers against her cheek in mock contemplation, and then said, “You feel guilty because you think I look tired, and you’re blaming yourself for keeping me up all night. You feel guilty because I missed that math final when we went out to the lake, and the B I got in Calculus blew my 4.0 grade point average. You’re worried that I won’t make it into Harvard, even though I still have 2 years of high school to get through. You’re worried about going to the dance tomorrow night because it’s in Hondo, and you don’t know the people in Hondo. You’re worried that someone might be out to get me, and you won’t see it coming until it’s too late. You’re –”
“Okay,” Max broke in, giving her a guilty smile. “You know me that well.”
“Max,” Liz smoothed her hand over his chest. “Everything that happens to me isn’t your fault. Good things and bad things are going to happen. You’re one of the good things.”
“I just want you to be safe, Liz,” Max cupped her face. She was the most important thing in the world to him. He couldn’t live with himself if anything ever happened to her because of him.
“I am safe,” she covered his hand with hers. “As long as I’m with you.”
* * * * *
Zan neared the Tumbleweed Motel, deep in thought about what he’d seen at the Crashdown, until he saw Rath and Lonnie on the back of one of the bikes, getting ready to ride. He shot his hand out and used his power to kill the engine. They weren’t going anywhere without his permission.
Rath whipped his head around, then sagged, knowing what was coming. Ava stood a few feet away, timidly watching. She’d tried to warn Rath not to go, but of course he wouldn’t listen.
“What the fuck you doin’?” Zan got in Rath’s face, his voice as cold as ice. “I told you not to leave the room.”
“We was hungry,” Lonnie got off the bike and stepped back. She didn’t think he’d hurt her out here in the parking lot, but she couldn’t be sure. “You said you was gettin’ some food, but you didn’t come back . . .”
“Here,” Zan shoved the bag against her chest, crushing the contents. He grabbed her chin and squeezed it, bringing her face up to his. “Next time I say stay in the room, you stay in the fuckin’ room.”
“Zan –” Rath started but instantly regretted it.
“And you,” Zan whirled on him. “You don’t get any ‘next times’.”
Rath fell to his knees, clutching his head between his hands. Zan knew how to do things the rest of them didn’t. Like healing . . . and hurting. Rath doubled over, feeling like his head was ready to explode.
“Zan!” Ava ran forward and grabbed his arm. “Not here! People can see!”
Zan broke out of his rage and focused on the blonde in front of him. He grabbed her around the upper arm and growled, “Where’s the room?”
Ava led Zan to their motel room, while Lonnie went to Rath and helped him stagger to his feet. He glared at Zan’s back with hatred blazing in his eyes.
“One of these days I’m gonna kill him,” Rath growled.
“No you’re not,” Lonnie shook her head. Zan was their leader, and he kept all the secrets locked inside his head. Without him, they’d be marooned on this God forsaken planet, without any way of contacting their homeworld. They were at his mercy, whether they liked it or not.
TBC . . .
Last edited by Breathless on Wed Sep 24, 2003 1:16 am, edited 1 time in total.
-
Breathless
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 254
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: Somewhere in ficland
Aftermath Part 34
Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17 S/L/V
NC 17 WARNING: This part may contain disturbing and/or objectionable material. Reader discretion is advised.
Aftermath
Part 34
Max sat alone in his favorite booth making a nice dent in the Saturn Rings on the plate in front of him. He picked up a bottle of Tabasco sauce next to the salt and pepper shakers and sprinkled another generous helping over his food. He didn’t know why he liked things spicy, but without the kick of the Tabasco sauce, things just tasted bland. He idly wondered if his powers had developed at the sacrifice of his sense of taste, a cosmic trade off if you will.
Heat spread through his body at the sudden thought of the things he’d tasted last night. Maybe food didn’t register strongly on his taste buds, but Liz certainly did. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling a growing ache to taste her all over again –
“Hey, Max,” Jeff Parker suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Max’s head whipped up to look at him, certain that Liz’s father knew exactly what he’d just been thinking, and was about to disintegrate him into a thousand little pieces. Fathers could do that.
“Hu – hey, Mr. Parker,” Max tried not to choke on the Saturn Ring that was currently stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard.
“Do you mind –?” Jeff pointed at the other side of the booth.
“No. Sit. Please, go right ahead,” the words rushed out. Jeff dropped into the seat across from him and Max prepared to die. What did Mr. Parker want to talk to him about? Had his father called and talked to Liz’s father? Did he know Liz spent last night in his bed, and it hadn’t been sleeping?
“Max,” Jeff started, picking at a chip on the edge of the formica tabletop. “I know we really haven’t talked much, but . . .”
Max felt his stomach twist, wondering what Mr. Parker was getting at. Was he going to kick him out of the restaurant for kissing Liz when she was supposed to be working? Was he dead meat for stealing his daughter’s virtue? Was he gonna haul out his shotgun and shoot his ass –
“I like you Max,” Jeff prefaced his words.
“I like you, too,” Max said inanely, and then silently kicked himself for sounding like such an idiot. His brain cells were refusing to work. This was too much pressure.
“Okay,” Jeff stared at him. “Well, here’s the deal. Mrs. Parker and I are going out of town for a few days. Second honeymoon you know. 20 years,” Jeff swallowed. Holy shit! Had it been 20 years already? Where had the time gone?
“Wow,” Max nodded. “20 years. Wow, that’s, um . . . Congratulations!”
“Yeah, well, thanks,” Jeff brushed that aside and got to the point. “We have a flight out in the morning.”
“Oh!” Max said a little too eagerly, and instantly regretted it when Mr. Parker narrowed his eyes. He tried to cover it by asking, “Where are you going?”
“Hawaii,” Jeff answered. Was that a gleam in the boy’s eye he saw? He cleared his throat and continued. “The thing is, that’s going to leave Liz on her own here for a few days –”
“Liz is very responsible,” Max blurted out.
“Well, yes, I know that,” Jeff nodded gravely. “The problem is, I’m not real happy about this dance Liz wants to go to in Hondo tomorrow night, but it’s a big night for Alex, and Liz and Alex have been friends for years. I don’t want to forbid her to go, but I’ve never seen this club Alex is playing at, and I don’t know if it’s a respectable place. I’ll feel better about it if I have your assurance that she’ll get there – and get home – safely.”
“Oh, absolutely!” Max nodded enthusiastically.
“I don’t want her hanging out with the wrong crowd.”
“You can count on me to watch out for her.”
“I’ve heard about these parties getting out of hand.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take good care of her.”
“I want her home early.”
“Just give me a time, I’ll have her home by then.”
“I don’t want –”
“Dad?” Liz stood at the end of the booth, staring back and forth between her father and Max. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” Jeff sat up straighter. “I was just – just –”
Max nudged his half empty drink in Jeff’s direction.
“Just getting Max a fresh drink!” Jeff grabbed the glass and bolted from the booth.
Liz stood there with her hands on her hips, watching her father scurry across the restaurant. “Was he grilling you about tomorrow night?”
“Saturn ring?” Max offered, pushing his plate toward Liz with a smile on his face. He knew her father was only concerned with her safety, which was something he had no problem relating to. He and Jeff exchanged a look across the Crashdown, with a new understanding forming between them.
Sometimes guys just had to stick together. A woman on the warpath could be a very scary thing.
* * * * *
“Whadda ya mean, you saw a set o’ duplicates?” Lonnie demanded. She sat next to Rath on a threadbare couch in the dilapidated motel room, still pissed at Zan for fucking with Rath’s head. The guy couldn’t afford to have any more brain cells killed.
“I don’t know what it means,” Zan paced the room. He didn’t like it when things weren’t in his control, and a set of four unidentified duplicates running around Roswell most definitely wasn’t under his control. “I found the mark, but she’s . . . she’s . . . friends or somethin’ with ‘em. I don’t get it. They’re young. Teenagers. And they act . . . act . . . fuckin’ normal. Like they’re human or somethin’, but they can’t be.”
“You think . . .” Lonnie ventured, “could they be . . .?”
“Our backups died in the crash,” Zan angrily flicked the ash of his cigarette on the floor. Or at least that’s what he’d been told. Now he was left wondering what the truth was. Whatever happened, he’d get to the fucking bottom of it.
“Did – did they see you?” Ava hesitantly ventured a question. It was unnerving to see Zan rattled.
“No,” he scowled, and then scratched his head in agitation. “Well, yeah, the mark saw me. And the other waitress. The blonde bitch.”
“You let the mark see you?” Lonnie was shocked. Zan never conducted surveillance in the open where he could be seen.
“Shut up and let me think!” Zan growled.
Ava and Lonnie exchange a look, both of them wondering what was going on with him. They’d never seen him like this before.
The scowl on Zan’s face disappeared as he came to a decision. He ground his cigarette out in an ashtray and turned to the female members of his unit, pointing at Lonnie first. “You, take care of him,” he indicated Rath. “Make sure he’s fit by morning.” Zan turned his gaze on Ava next and clamped his hand around her upper arm. “Come with me. Time to put your talents to use.”
* * * * *
Liz turned the lock in the restaurant door and dragged her feet over to the booth Max was sitting in. She dropped down on the seat across from him, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face.
“Long day?” Max smiled at her and reached for her hand.
“That’s an understatement.”
“Maybe I should go, and let you get some rest.”
“We could both use a good night’s sleep,” Liz smiled sheepishly. Max felt the heat rise in his own face, remembering why they’d had so little sleep the night before.
“Girlfriend,” Maria dropped onto the seat next to Max and put her arm around his shoulders. She gave him her best pleading look. “Can you give me a ride home?”
“Sure,” Max nodded.
“Great. Let’s go. I’m beat.”
Maria slid out of the booth and waited, semi-patiently, for Max and Liz to say their goodnights. They followed her out of the booth and stood beside it, indulging in a parting kiss. Their lovesick expressions were enough to give her a sugar overload, but she couldn’t hold it against them. They were perfect for each other.
“C’mon, Romeo,” Maria reached her limit. “I desperately need my beauty sleep.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Max tore his lips away from Liz. They stood face to face for another minute without either of them moving, until Max dropped his head to claim her lips again. He couldn’t get enough.
“Time out!” Maria stepped between them. “You,” she said to Liz, “upstairs.” She turned to face Max next, saying, “You’re coming with me.”
Max reluctantly gave in to the unstoppable force that was Hurricane DeLuca. How did Michael ever resist her? Max let her pull him out of the café, but as soon as they stepped outside, her demeanor changed. Her light banter disappeared, replaced by a worried look that set Max on edge. Something was wrong.
“What?” he demanded. “What is it?”
Maria led him to the jeep, refusing to talk until they’d climbed inside.
“Something happened today,” Maria faced Max, the two of them sitting next to each other on the front seats.
“What kind of ‘something’?” Max demanded to know.
“Liz had a spell or something this afternoon in the Crashdown. I don’t know what happened, or what it meant. One minute she was fine, the next she dropped everything she was holding and said some shit about ‘Something is coming’. It freaked me out.”
“Why didn’t she tell me!” Max reached for the door handle to go back inside.
“Don’t,” Maria stopped him. “Don’t confront her now. She’ll know I told you.”
“I can’t just ignore this.”
“It’s probably just stress,” Maria tried to explain it away, “but I thought you should know about it.”
“She’s having dreams, too,” the worry in his voice intensified. “Bad dreams. What do you think I should do?”
“Talk to her about it tomorrow,” Maria suggested, and then added with a smirk. “After you’ve both gotten a good night’s sleep.”
* * * * *
Zan stood in the shadows of the UFO Center and pointed across the street. “That’s him.”
He needn’t have said anything though. Ava spotted him immediately. The boy with Zan’s face. He looked younger, softer, and Ava tried to remember if Zan had ever looked that way. Once, maybe. When they first came out of the pods. Before his programming took over and turned him hard.
She wasn’t sure why it had never happened to her. She’d watched each of them, Zan, Rath, and Lonnie, one after the other, turn dark, and dangerous, and frightening, leaving her alone in a world of aliens and humans, not fitting in with either species.
She watched the boy across the street, seeing him kiss the doomed girl, knowing that soon his smile would be gone, extinguished along with the life of the girl. It always happened, the trail of destruction they left in their wake. Death and misery.
The boy climbed into an old jeep with the blonde waitress and Ava looked at Zan in surprise. “Aren’t we gonna follow him?”
“Tomorrow,” Zan’s eyes remained locked on the dark haired girl. “He’s not goin’ anywhere.”
The lights in the Crashdown dimmed, the flashing neon lights of the spaceship above the door blinked out, and the girl disappeared into the back of the restaurant. They stood in silence while Zan debated what to do next. Should he go through the front door? The back? No lock ever made was strong enough to keep him out.
A minute later a light blinked on in a second floor window, leading him to cross Main Street to the alley that ran along the side of the restaurant. He saw the ladder first, then the balcony railing above. His hand closed around the first rung and he climbed, sensing her up there, beyond the brick and stone.
Ava reluctantly followed.
* * * * *
Liz walked into her bedroom glad that this day was over. She untied her apron and dropped it on the floor, too tired to care about the mess she made. She’d clean it up in the morning. She pulled apart the snaps of her uniform, letting it slide from her body, adding to the trail of clothes on the floor behind her. She grabbed a clip for her hair as she walked by her dresser, and headed toward the bathroom for a much needed shower.
She paused in front of her window, looking up at the stars that filled the night sky. She looked at those stars differently now, had ever since the day last fall when Max saved her life. One of those points of light had brought him to her. She thanked them every night.
Ava concentrated hard to keep the girl from seeing them. This was her job, to cloak Zan and the others, to hide them in plain sight, while they plotted out the deaths of their next victims. She’d never lifted a hand in violence, but the blood of their victims covered her just the same. She’d never once tried to prevent the slaughter.
She couldn’t look at the girl, knowing that soon the vibrant life that emanated from her would be snuffed out. How many hours did Liz Parker have left, before Zan completed another mission, and they moved on, to the next town, the next target? How long ‘til it was over, and this miserable existence could end?
Zan stepped forward, closer to the window, watching Liz move across her room. His breathing deepened, turning more labored as he watched her unclasp the hook at the back of her bra. It slid from her body, giving him only a tantalizing glimpse of the side of her breast, the skin so milky smooth, so soft, so pale looking. His pulse raced, knowing a look wasn’t nearly enough.
He’d never taken a human before. He’d never felt the need. Ava was there to submit to his lust, to cater to his cravings. But lately, ever since he started getting the dreams, that hadn’t been enough. He stepped closer to the window, driven by the need to take what he wanted.
“Zan!” Ava whispered urgently and grabbed his upper arm. “Someone’s coming.”
Zan heard it then, too. Footsteps on the ladder, rising up to the balcony. He tore his eyes away from Liz and slunk into the shadows.
A dark head rose above the brick wall, then the rest of him followed. His gaze appeared intense, his attention focused on only one thing as he climbed onto the balcony. He silently crossed over to the window and crouched down to peer inside. A smile broke over his face and he tapped on the glass, getting the attention of the girl inside. She appeared at the window, with a towel wrapped around her body and wisps of dark hair framing her delicate face.
Liz lifted the window and smiled up at Max. “You came back.”
“It looks like just in time,” Max grinned, letting his eyes sweep over her bare shoulders.
Liz stepped back, and Max climbed inside, closing the window behind him. He stalked her toward the bathroom, where the sound of running water filled the air.
“And what did you have in mind?” Liz teasingly opened the towel and gave him just a peek. Max answered with a growl and chased her into the bathroom.
“C’mere, you,” he grabbed her and pulled her to his chest. He held out his hand and the door slammed closed behind him.
On the balcony, Ava felt Zan tensing, like an animal in heat, preparing to do battle.
“Did you see that?” Zan growled.
“Zan, please . . .”
“He’s got power,” Zan stepped closer to the window.
In the bathroom, Max couldn’t stop touching Liz. Her towel lay on the floor at her feet, right next to his discarded shirt. His hands glided over her bare skin, touching her breasts, her ribs, her waist, her hips. His fingers dug into her thighs and lifted her up, spreading her legs to slide his hips between them, swallowing hard at the feel of her wet center against the taut skin of his stomach. His mouth covered hers, ravenously kissing her breathless, while his hand tore at his fly, frantically trying to remove the barriers between them.
“My parents . . .” Liz sighed against his lips.
“I’ll be quiet,” he promised and kissed her hard again. He wanted her so badly, like a primal urge.
“Max,” Liz tore her lips away from his. “Aren’t you expected home tonight?”
“Michael will cover for me,” he sucked at her throat, leaving his mark low near her collarbone. He pressed her hard against the door while he worked his pants free, releasing his rigid cock. Her hand closed around him, stroking her thumb over the beads of fluid that were already weeping from his head.
“Liz,” he groaned lustfully and humped against her hand, feeling the driving need to be inside her, to claim her as his again. He’d come back just to talk to her, to ask her about the things Maria had said, but those questions were now far from his mind. He felt her guide him to her heat, felt her sex begin to engulf him, and forced himself to pull back.
“Wait.” He fumbled at the back pocket of his sagging jeans.
“What are you doing?” Liz gasped out. His cock rubbed up against her sex, making her pulse pound with growing sexual excitement.
“This,” Max finally pulled the condom free. His father’s little talk had sunk in, reminding him not to act stupid. “Better safe than sorry,” his chest heaved in quick breaths.
“Hurry,” Liz panted.
* * * * *
Zan stood outside the window, warring with himself, wanting to go in there and tear his double apart, then take the girl as his own. The rational part of his brain knew it was too soon to make his move, but he was an alpha male, feeling the primal challenge.
He leaned closer to the window, his breaths growing heavier, his body tensing for a fight. Even through the glass the scent of her sex hung in the air around him. The sounds of her moans burned in his ears. A growl rumbled deep in his throat.
“Zan, let’s go,” Ava quietly urged, trying to head off his bloodlust before it seized him completely. Zan turned on her, making Ava cringe back from the fire in his eyes. She’d never seen him look this way before. She sucked up her courage and said, “Not here. Not now. It’s not time yet.”
Zan fought back the primal lust coursing through his blood. Ava was right. There were too many mysteries here, too many secrets he needed to find out before he could make his move. He turned back to the window, flaring his nostrils, drawing in the scent of the girl’s sex one more time before he let Ava pull him away.
* * * * *
Max breathed in the humid air of the steam filled bathroom, and the even steamier scent of Liz’s aroused sex. He clutched her butt cheeks in his hands, lifting her so he could slide into her depths. His mouth covered hers to contain their moans, while the running shower masked the wet sound of their sexes coming together.
Max gave into his driving desires, feeling her tight walls surrounding him as he inched deeper into her body, and into her mind. He gasped as their connection roared to life with a sudden rush of new sensations, feeling things that he knew weren’t coming just from him.
“Liz,” he moaned against her throat. His frantic movements ceased as soon as they were joined, his primal lust replaced by pure and simple passion.
“Shhh,” she urged him to be quiet. His next thrust went deep causing Liz to disobey her own warning.
Max smiled against her lips, whispering, “I can’t . . . not . . . moan when I’m inside you.”
“Me either,” Liz whispered back before sealing her lips to his.
*****
Zan pushed Ava down on the bed in their motel room and tore at her pants. His desperation was growing by the minute, an ache that had to be relieved. Ava bit back the questions that flooded her brain, like what was he doing, and why? He never wanted sex this way. Not since the Awakening. He never wanted the intimacy of lying face to face, of sharing his body with hers. He was a taker, taking everything he wanted, and giving nothing in return.
Zan ripped her pants from her and tore at his own clothes, removing them quickly. He knelt on the bed with his cock hard and rigid, holding the throbbing length in his hand. Ava lay naked on the bed, staring up at him, not saying a word.
* * * * *
Their coupling was fast and furious, both of them swept away by their passion. Their lips fused together, trying to hold in the sounds that couldn’t be contained. His deep thrusts quickened, grinding against her with sharper jabs, sensing through their connection that she was almost there. He held her body tightly to his, their skin slick with sweat, and steam, and the nectar that was Liz.
“Max!” she tore her lips away from his, biting at her lip to keep from screaming.
Her inner walls constricted around him, driving him to the edge. His balls tightened, just on the verge, so close, feeling that delicious moment of sweet anticipation, and then the stars exploded for him, too.
“Liz. Liz!” he groaned, pinning her body to the bathroom door. “Liz . . .”
* * * * *
In the Tumbleweed Motel Zan fucked Ava hard, rough, drilling his rigid length into her body, punishing her with it, frustration mounting as his body craved to come, but he couldn’t. Sweat trickled down his forehead, dripping from his chin, running in rivulets down his ribs. His arms quivered from the strain of holding his body above hers.
“Look at me,” Zan demanded in a gruff gasp.
Ava opened her eyes, staring up into his straining face. Her body bounced under the impact of each harsh thrust.
“Change your hair dark,” Zan panted.
She did as he insisted; turning her blonde curls dark brown.
“Make it straight,” he ordered, thrusting into her harder, but it still wasn’t enough. He slammed his length into her body, but the release he so desperately sought wouldn’t come.
Understanding dawned on Ava, and she did what she was bred to do. She concentrated her powers, making Zan see exactly what he wanted to. Her blue eyes turned dark brown, the lines of her face changed, until it wasn’t Ava beneath him anymore, but the girl that he really wanted.
Zan looked down into the face of Liz Parker and came hard. The most intense orgasm of his life tore through him, from deep inside, spreading throughout his body.
“Fuck!” he cried out, slamming his pulsing cock into her hard. “Fuck . . . fuck . . . oh fuck . . .”
He collapsed onto the body of Liz Parker, surrounding her with his arms, clutching her tightly to him as the last spurts of his semen shot from his body. He quivered from head to toe with the intensity of it, seconds turning into minutes while his body hummed with the energy. When his trembling subsided, he pulled his limp cock from her body and rolled to the side.
The shock of their encounter deepened even more for Ava when his arms remained wrapped around her, instead of shoving her aside like he usually did when he was done with her. His hand stroked through her hair with a touch bordering on gentleness, something she’d never felt from him before.
“Zan?” Ava ventured.
“Go to sleep,” he said softly. He didn’t want the sound of her voice to spoil the moment. Her hair began to curl around his fingers and he said, “Don’t. Leave it straight.”
Zan lay on his back staring up at the stained ceiling of his motel room. In the morning everything would be back to normal. Ava would look like Ava again. The target would be just another target, not the first, nor the last, in a long list of assignments he unfailingly completed.
But for tonight, in the darkness that surrounded him, with the illusion of Liz Parker curled up against his side, Zan held on to the fragments of a dream, feeling emotions that were never meant for him, for a life he was never meant to live.
TBC . . .
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17 S/L/V
NC 17 WARNING: This part may contain disturbing and/or objectionable material. Reader discretion is advised.
Aftermath
Part 34
Max sat alone in his favorite booth making a nice dent in the Saturn Rings on the plate in front of him. He picked up a bottle of Tabasco sauce next to the salt and pepper shakers and sprinkled another generous helping over his food. He didn’t know why he liked things spicy, but without the kick of the Tabasco sauce, things just tasted bland. He idly wondered if his powers had developed at the sacrifice of his sense of taste, a cosmic trade off if you will.
Heat spread through his body at the sudden thought of the things he’d tasted last night. Maybe food didn’t register strongly on his taste buds, but Liz certainly did. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling a growing ache to taste her all over again –
“Hey, Max,” Jeff Parker suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Max’s head whipped up to look at him, certain that Liz’s father knew exactly what he’d just been thinking, and was about to disintegrate him into a thousand little pieces. Fathers could do that.
“Hu – hey, Mr. Parker,” Max tried not to choke on the Saturn Ring that was currently stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard.
“Do you mind –?” Jeff pointed at the other side of the booth.
“No. Sit. Please, go right ahead,” the words rushed out. Jeff dropped into the seat across from him and Max prepared to die. What did Mr. Parker want to talk to him about? Had his father called and talked to Liz’s father? Did he know Liz spent last night in his bed, and it hadn’t been sleeping?
“Max,” Jeff started, picking at a chip on the edge of the formica tabletop. “I know we really haven’t talked much, but . . .”
Max felt his stomach twist, wondering what Mr. Parker was getting at. Was he going to kick him out of the restaurant for kissing Liz when she was supposed to be working? Was he dead meat for stealing his daughter’s virtue? Was he gonna haul out his shotgun and shoot his ass –
“I like you Max,” Jeff prefaced his words.
“I like you, too,” Max said inanely, and then silently kicked himself for sounding like such an idiot. His brain cells were refusing to work. This was too much pressure.
“Okay,” Jeff stared at him. “Well, here’s the deal. Mrs. Parker and I are going out of town for a few days. Second honeymoon you know. 20 years,” Jeff swallowed. Holy shit! Had it been 20 years already? Where had the time gone?
“Wow,” Max nodded. “20 years. Wow, that’s, um . . . Congratulations!”
“Yeah, well, thanks,” Jeff brushed that aside and got to the point. “We have a flight out in the morning.”
“Oh!” Max said a little too eagerly, and instantly regretted it when Mr. Parker narrowed his eyes. He tried to cover it by asking, “Where are you going?”
“Hawaii,” Jeff answered. Was that a gleam in the boy’s eye he saw? He cleared his throat and continued. “The thing is, that’s going to leave Liz on her own here for a few days –”
“Liz is very responsible,” Max blurted out.
“Well, yes, I know that,” Jeff nodded gravely. “The problem is, I’m not real happy about this dance Liz wants to go to in Hondo tomorrow night, but it’s a big night for Alex, and Liz and Alex have been friends for years. I don’t want to forbid her to go, but I’ve never seen this club Alex is playing at, and I don’t know if it’s a respectable place. I’ll feel better about it if I have your assurance that she’ll get there – and get home – safely.”
“Oh, absolutely!” Max nodded enthusiastically.
“I don’t want her hanging out with the wrong crowd.”
“You can count on me to watch out for her.”
“I’ve heard about these parties getting out of hand.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take good care of her.”
“I want her home early.”
“Just give me a time, I’ll have her home by then.”
“I don’t want –”
“Dad?” Liz stood at the end of the booth, staring back and forth between her father and Max. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” Jeff sat up straighter. “I was just – just –”
Max nudged his half empty drink in Jeff’s direction.
“Just getting Max a fresh drink!” Jeff grabbed the glass and bolted from the booth.
Liz stood there with her hands on her hips, watching her father scurry across the restaurant. “Was he grilling you about tomorrow night?”
“Saturn ring?” Max offered, pushing his plate toward Liz with a smile on his face. He knew her father was only concerned with her safety, which was something he had no problem relating to. He and Jeff exchanged a look across the Crashdown, with a new understanding forming between them.
Sometimes guys just had to stick together. A woman on the warpath could be a very scary thing.
* * * * *
“Whadda ya mean, you saw a set o’ duplicates?” Lonnie demanded. She sat next to Rath on a threadbare couch in the dilapidated motel room, still pissed at Zan for fucking with Rath’s head. The guy couldn’t afford to have any more brain cells killed.
“I don’t know what it means,” Zan paced the room. He didn’t like it when things weren’t in his control, and a set of four unidentified duplicates running around Roswell most definitely wasn’t under his control. “I found the mark, but she’s . . . she’s . . . friends or somethin’ with ‘em. I don’t get it. They’re young. Teenagers. And they act . . . act . . . fuckin’ normal. Like they’re human or somethin’, but they can’t be.”
“You think . . .” Lonnie ventured, “could they be . . .?”
“Our backups died in the crash,” Zan angrily flicked the ash of his cigarette on the floor. Or at least that’s what he’d been told. Now he was left wondering what the truth was. Whatever happened, he’d get to the fucking bottom of it.
“Did – did they see you?” Ava hesitantly ventured a question. It was unnerving to see Zan rattled.
“No,” he scowled, and then scratched his head in agitation. “Well, yeah, the mark saw me. And the other waitress. The blonde bitch.”
“You let the mark see you?” Lonnie was shocked. Zan never conducted surveillance in the open where he could be seen.
“Shut up and let me think!” Zan growled.
Ava and Lonnie exchange a look, both of them wondering what was going on with him. They’d never seen him like this before.
The scowl on Zan’s face disappeared as he came to a decision. He ground his cigarette out in an ashtray and turned to the female members of his unit, pointing at Lonnie first. “You, take care of him,” he indicated Rath. “Make sure he’s fit by morning.” Zan turned his gaze on Ava next and clamped his hand around her upper arm. “Come with me. Time to put your talents to use.”
* * * * *
Liz turned the lock in the restaurant door and dragged her feet over to the booth Max was sitting in. She dropped down on the seat across from him, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face.
“Long day?” Max smiled at her and reached for her hand.
“That’s an understatement.”
“Maybe I should go, and let you get some rest.”
“We could both use a good night’s sleep,” Liz smiled sheepishly. Max felt the heat rise in his own face, remembering why they’d had so little sleep the night before.
“Girlfriend,” Maria dropped onto the seat next to Max and put her arm around his shoulders. She gave him her best pleading look. “Can you give me a ride home?”
“Sure,” Max nodded.
“Great. Let’s go. I’m beat.”
Maria slid out of the booth and waited, semi-patiently, for Max and Liz to say their goodnights. They followed her out of the booth and stood beside it, indulging in a parting kiss. Their lovesick expressions were enough to give her a sugar overload, but she couldn’t hold it against them. They were perfect for each other.
“C’mon, Romeo,” Maria reached her limit. “I desperately need my beauty sleep.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Max tore his lips away from Liz. They stood face to face for another minute without either of them moving, until Max dropped his head to claim her lips again. He couldn’t get enough.
“Time out!” Maria stepped between them. “You,” she said to Liz, “upstairs.” She turned to face Max next, saying, “You’re coming with me.”
Max reluctantly gave in to the unstoppable force that was Hurricane DeLuca. How did Michael ever resist her? Max let her pull him out of the café, but as soon as they stepped outside, her demeanor changed. Her light banter disappeared, replaced by a worried look that set Max on edge. Something was wrong.
“What?” he demanded. “What is it?”
Maria led him to the jeep, refusing to talk until they’d climbed inside.
“Something happened today,” Maria faced Max, the two of them sitting next to each other on the front seats.
“What kind of ‘something’?” Max demanded to know.
“Liz had a spell or something this afternoon in the Crashdown. I don’t know what happened, or what it meant. One minute she was fine, the next she dropped everything she was holding and said some shit about ‘Something is coming’. It freaked me out.”
“Why didn’t she tell me!” Max reached for the door handle to go back inside.
“Don’t,” Maria stopped him. “Don’t confront her now. She’ll know I told you.”
“I can’t just ignore this.”
“It’s probably just stress,” Maria tried to explain it away, “but I thought you should know about it.”
“She’s having dreams, too,” the worry in his voice intensified. “Bad dreams. What do you think I should do?”
“Talk to her about it tomorrow,” Maria suggested, and then added with a smirk. “After you’ve both gotten a good night’s sleep.”
* * * * *
Zan stood in the shadows of the UFO Center and pointed across the street. “That’s him.”
He needn’t have said anything though. Ava spotted him immediately. The boy with Zan’s face. He looked younger, softer, and Ava tried to remember if Zan had ever looked that way. Once, maybe. When they first came out of the pods. Before his programming took over and turned him hard.
She wasn’t sure why it had never happened to her. She’d watched each of them, Zan, Rath, and Lonnie, one after the other, turn dark, and dangerous, and frightening, leaving her alone in a world of aliens and humans, not fitting in with either species.
She watched the boy across the street, seeing him kiss the doomed girl, knowing that soon his smile would be gone, extinguished along with the life of the girl. It always happened, the trail of destruction they left in their wake. Death and misery.
The boy climbed into an old jeep with the blonde waitress and Ava looked at Zan in surprise. “Aren’t we gonna follow him?”
“Tomorrow,” Zan’s eyes remained locked on the dark haired girl. “He’s not goin’ anywhere.”
The lights in the Crashdown dimmed, the flashing neon lights of the spaceship above the door blinked out, and the girl disappeared into the back of the restaurant. They stood in silence while Zan debated what to do next. Should he go through the front door? The back? No lock ever made was strong enough to keep him out.
A minute later a light blinked on in a second floor window, leading him to cross Main Street to the alley that ran along the side of the restaurant. He saw the ladder first, then the balcony railing above. His hand closed around the first rung and he climbed, sensing her up there, beyond the brick and stone.
Ava reluctantly followed.
* * * * *
Liz walked into her bedroom glad that this day was over. She untied her apron and dropped it on the floor, too tired to care about the mess she made. She’d clean it up in the morning. She pulled apart the snaps of her uniform, letting it slide from her body, adding to the trail of clothes on the floor behind her. She grabbed a clip for her hair as she walked by her dresser, and headed toward the bathroom for a much needed shower.
She paused in front of her window, looking up at the stars that filled the night sky. She looked at those stars differently now, had ever since the day last fall when Max saved her life. One of those points of light had brought him to her. She thanked them every night.
Ava concentrated hard to keep the girl from seeing them. This was her job, to cloak Zan and the others, to hide them in plain sight, while they plotted out the deaths of their next victims. She’d never lifted a hand in violence, but the blood of their victims covered her just the same. She’d never once tried to prevent the slaughter.
She couldn’t look at the girl, knowing that soon the vibrant life that emanated from her would be snuffed out. How many hours did Liz Parker have left, before Zan completed another mission, and they moved on, to the next town, the next target? How long ‘til it was over, and this miserable existence could end?
Zan stepped forward, closer to the window, watching Liz move across her room. His breathing deepened, turning more labored as he watched her unclasp the hook at the back of her bra. It slid from her body, giving him only a tantalizing glimpse of the side of her breast, the skin so milky smooth, so soft, so pale looking. His pulse raced, knowing a look wasn’t nearly enough.
He’d never taken a human before. He’d never felt the need. Ava was there to submit to his lust, to cater to his cravings. But lately, ever since he started getting the dreams, that hadn’t been enough. He stepped closer to the window, driven by the need to take what he wanted.
“Zan!” Ava whispered urgently and grabbed his upper arm. “Someone’s coming.”
Zan heard it then, too. Footsteps on the ladder, rising up to the balcony. He tore his eyes away from Liz and slunk into the shadows.
A dark head rose above the brick wall, then the rest of him followed. His gaze appeared intense, his attention focused on only one thing as he climbed onto the balcony. He silently crossed over to the window and crouched down to peer inside. A smile broke over his face and he tapped on the glass, getting the attention of the girl inside. She appeared at the window, with a towel wrapped around her body and wisps of dark hair framing her delicate face.
Liz lifted the window and smiled up at Max. “You came back.”
“It looks like just in time,” Max grinned, letting his eyes sweep over her bare shoulders.
Liz stepped back, and Max climbed inside, closing the window behind him. He stalked her toward the bathroom, where the sound of running water filled the air.
“And what did you have in mind?” Liz teasingly opened the towel and gave him just a peek. Max answered with a growl and chased her into the bathroom.
“C’mere, you,” he grabbed her and pulled her to his chest. He held out his hand and the door slammed closed behind him.
On the balcony, Ava felt Zan tensing, like an animal in heat, preparing to do battle.
“Did you see that?” Zan growled.
“Zan, please . . .”
“He’s got power,” Zan stepped closer to the window.
In the bathroom, Max couldn’t stop touching Liz. Her towel lay on the floor at her feet, right next to his discarded shirt. His hands glided over her bare skin, touching her breasts, her ribs, her waist, her hips. His fingers dug into her thighs and lifted her up, spreading her legs to slide his hips between them, swallowing hard at the feel of her wet center against the taut skin of his stomach. His mouth covered hers, ravenously kissing her breathless, while his hand tore at his fly, frantically trying to remove the barriers between them.
“My parents . . .” Liz sighed against his lips.
“I’ll be quiet,” he promised and kissed her hard again. He wanted her so badly, like a primal urge.
“Max,” Liz tore her lips away from his. “Aren’t you expected home tonight?”
“Michael will cover for me,” he sucked at her throat, leaving his mark low near her collarbone. He pressed her hard against the door while he worked his pants free, releasing his rigid cock. Her hand closed around him, stroking her thumb over the beads of fluid that were already weeping from his head.
“Liz,” he groaned lustfully and humped against her hand, feeling the driving need to be inside her, to claim her as his again. He’d come back just to talk to her, to ask her about the things Maria had said, but those questions were now far from his mind. He felt her guide him to her heat, felt her sex begin to engulf him, and forced himself to pull back.
“Wait.” He fumbled at the back pocket of his sagging jeans.
“What are you doing?” Liz gasped out. His cock rubbed up against her sex, making her pulse pound with growing sexual excitement.
“This,” Max finally pulled the condom free. His father’s little talk had sunk in, reminding him not to act stupid. “Better safe than sorry,” his chest heaved in quick breaths.
“Hurry,” Liz panted.
* * * * *
Zan stood outside the window, warring with himself, wanting to go in there and tear his double apart, then take the girl as his own. The rational part of his brain knew it was too soon to make his move, but he was an alpha male, feeling the primal challenge.
He leaned closer to the window, his breaths growing heavier, his body tensing for a fight. Even through the glass the scent of her sex hung in the air around him. The sounds of her moans burned in his ears. A growl rumbled deep in his throat.
“Zan, let’s go,” Ava quietly urged, trying to head off his bloodlust before it seized him completely. Zan turned on her, making Ava cringe back from the fire in his eyes. She’d never seen him look this way before. She sucked up her courage and said, “Not here. Not now. It’s not time yet.”
Zan fought back the primal lust coursing through his blood. Ava was right. There were too many mysteries here, too many secrets he needed to find out before he could make his move. He turned back to the window, flaring his nostrils, drawing in the scent of the girl’s sex one more time before he let Ava pull him away.
* * * * *
Max breathed in the humid air of the steam filled bathroom, and the even steamier scent of Liz’s aroused sex. He clutched her butt cheeks in his hands, lifting her so he could slide into her depths. His mouth covered hers to contain their moans, while the running shower masked the wet sound of their sexes coming together.
Max gave into his driving desires, feeling her tight walls surrounding him as he inched deeper into her body, and into her mind. He gasped as their connection roared to life with a sudden rush of new sensations, feeling things that he knew weren’t coming just from him.
“Liz,” he moaned against her throat. His frantic movements ceased as soon as they were joined, his primal lust replaced by pure and simple passion.
“Shhh,” she urged him to be quiet. His next thrust went deep causing Liz to disobey her own warning.
Max smiled against her lips, whispering, “I can’t . . . not . . . moan when I’m inside you.”
“Me either,” Liz whispered back before sealing her lips to his.
*****
Zan pushed Ava down on the bed in their motel room and tore at her pants. His desperation was growing by the minute, an ache that had to be relieved. Ava bit back the questions that flooded her brain, like what was he doing, and why? He never wanted sex this way. Not since the Awakening. He never wanted the intimacy of lying face to face, of sharing his body with hers. He was a taker, taking everything he wanted, and giving nothing in return.
Zan ripped her pants from her and tore at his own clothes, removing them quickly. He knelt on the bed with his cock hard and rigid, holding the throbbing length in his hand. Ava lay naked on the bed, staring up at him, not saying a word.
* * * * *
Their coupling was fast and furious, both of them swept away by their passion. Their lips fused together, trying to hold in the sounds that couldn’t be contained. His deep thrusts quickened, grinding against her with sharper jabs, sensing through their connection that she was almost there. He held her body tightly to his, their skin slick with sweat, and steam, and the nectar that was Liz.
“Max!” she tore her lips away from his, biting at her lip to keep from screaming.
Her inner walls constricted around him, driving him to the edge. His balls tightened, just on the verge, so close, feeling that delicious moment of sweet anticipation, and then the stars exploded for him, too.
“Liz. Liz!” he groaned, pinning her body to the bathroom door. “Liz . . .”
* * * * *
In the Tumbleweed Motel Zan fucked Ava hard, rough, drilling his rigid length into her body, punishing her with it, frustration mounting as his body craved to come, but he couldn’t. Sweat trickled down his forehead, dripping from his chin, running in rivulets down his ribs. His arms quivered from the strain of holding his body above hers.
“Look at me,” Zan demanded in a gruff gasp.
Ava opened her eyes, staring up into his straining face. Her body bounced under the impact of each harsh thrust.
“Change your hair dark,” Zan panted.
She did as he insisted; turning her blonde curls dark brown.
“Make it straight,” he ordered, thrusting into her harder, but it still wasn’t enough. He slammed his length into her body, but the release he so desperately sought wouldn’t come.
Understanding dawned on Ava, and she did what she was bred to do. She concentrated her powers, making Zan see exactly what he wanted to. Her blue eyes turned dark brown, the lines of her face changed, until it wasn’t Ava beneath him anymore, but the girl that he really wanted.
Zan looked down into the face of Liz Parker and came hard. The most intense orgasm of his life tore through him, from deep inside, spreading throughout his body.
“Fuck!” he cried out, slamming his pulsing cock into her hard. “Fuck . . . fuck . . . oh fuck . . .”
He collapsed onto the body of Liz Parker, surrounding her with his arms, clutching her tightly to him as the last spurts of his semen shot from his body. He quivered from head to toe with the intensity of it, seconds turning into minutes while his body hummed with the energy. When his trembling subsided, he pulled his limp cock from her body and rolled to the side.
The shock of their encounter deepened even more for Ava when his arms remained wrapped around her, instead of shoving her aside like he usually did when he was done with her. His hand stroked through her hair with a touch bordering on gentleness, something she’d never felt from him before.
“Zan?” Ava ventured.
“Go to sleep,” he said softly. He didn’t want the sound of her voice to spoil the moment. Her hair began to curl around his fingers and he said, “Don’t. Leave it straight.”
Zan lay on his back staring up at the stained ceiling of his motel room. In the morning everything would be back to normal. Ava would look like Ava again. The target would be just another target, not the first, nor the last, in a long list of assignments he unfailingly completed.
But for tonight, in the darkness that surrounded him, with the illusion of Liz Parker curled up against his side, Zan held on to the fragments of a dream, feeling emotions that were never meant for him, for a life he was never meant to live.
TBC . . .
-
Breathless
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 254
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: Somewhere in ficland
Aftermath Part 35
Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17 S/L/V
Author Note: I think it’s time to remind everyone that the mythology of this story is different than the show. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
Now, let’s get on to the story . . .
Aftermath
Part 35
A ray of moonlight fell across the bed, lancing across the bare muscle and skin of Zan’s smooth chest. His hand rested low on his belly, just above the edge of the sheet that covered his lower body. He shifted in his sleep, with his eyes darting back and forth under his lids, deep in another dream . . .
“Can you take your shirt off?”
“Can I . . .” He sucked in a breath at what she was asking him, the unspoken implication. Her eyes, so deep, so dark, so innocent, dominated her face. He swallowed hard, feeling his heart rate soar. “Yeah.”
Her fingers worked at the small buttons of his shirt and when the last one came free he pulled it off quickly, exposing the smooth skin of his chest. Her hand touched him, gliding over his muscles, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
“I can’t do it to you . . .”
He heard the disappointment in her tone, causing a small smile to curve his lips. “I’m glowing everywhere. My toes, my heart. You can’t see it. It’s on the inside.”
The need to kiss her was too strong. Her hands on his skin too tempting. His body’s reaction impossible to hide. Their breaths mingled, their lips so close.
“Could I get sick?”
“I don’t know anything,” his lips brushed over hers. He couldn’t think anymore. He didn’t know what was right, or what was wrong. He’d wanted this for so long. Wanted her. “I don’t even know who I am . . .”
Zan awoke with a restless need coursing through his body. The dream lingered, fragments, images, but one thing was clear this time. Her face hadn’t been hidden in shadows, or turned to the side, preventing him from seeing her. This time, the dream had shown him every curve, every line of her exquisite face, leaving no room for doubt. Liz Parker was the girl from his dreams.
Ava shifted next to him, turning over in her sleep. Her hair was back to blonde now, and curly again. He lifted the sheet to cover her nudity, knowing that she couldn’t help the ache that burned inside him. He could still feel the other’s hand on his chest, the dream girl, trying to make his skin glow.
He pulled the sheet away from his naked body and rose to his feet, leaving the bedroom and pacing across the thin carpet to the window by the door. The motel room was quiet in the dead of night, with the only audible sound a slight hum coming from the sign outside the window. Zan drew the curtain aside, letting in the neon lights to paint a rainbow of colors across his naked flesh.
Outside the streets of Roswell were dark. Quiet. Sleeping. As unsuspecting and unprepared as the world around them. He had no idea how soon the end would come for them, nor did he care. The fate of this world meant nothing to him. All he cared about was the girl. He could feel her down the road, just beyond the range of his vision, blissfully unaware of the fate that awaited her.
The dream lingered in his mind, of the girl who looked at him, and touched him like no other. And the boy that held her in his arms, feeling emotions Zan had no name for. Was it just a dream, or was it something more? Was it him, Zan, taking the girl down to the couch, or the other, his double – Max – feeling her pliant body beneath him? Were the dreams just a product of his own active imagination, or an alien connection to something else? Someone else?
The final words from his dream echoed in his brain, uttered in his own familiar voice.
“I don’t even know who I am . . .”
* * * * *
“Are you asleep?” he asked softly with his lips against the top of Liz’s head. His body spooned against hers, their naked flesh intimately aligned beneath the sheet that covered them.
“Ummm,” she lazily answered, feeling the comforting warmth of his hand resting flat against her stomach. “What time is it?”
“Early.”
Her head lifted to look at the clock on her nightstand. Starlight still colored the heavens, but it wouldn’t be long before the blush of the morning sun chased the stars away.
“Do you have to go?” Liz turned to face him. Meager light spilled in through the window, just enough for her to see the exposed skin of his torso, the ridges of his stomach, and the muscular curve of his chest. Her hand moved in slow motion over his familiar skin, up his ribs, past the dark circle of his nipple, to the swirling symbol tattooed on his chest. Her eyes snapped to his face, darkly framed by his shoulder length hair. The days old stubble that blanketed his cheeks couldn’t hide the small birthmark on his upper lip –
Liz awoke with a start, gasping for breath.
“Are you all right?” Max shifted position behind her, sitting up on his elbow to look over her shoulder.
Liz jerked around at the sound of his voice, tensely expecting to see the image from her dream. She visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief when his familiar features swam into focus. Short hair. Clean face. Max.
“Liz? What’s wrong?” he sat up fully.
“Nothing,” Liz willed her heart rate to slow. She dropped her head back onto the pillow and took a deep breath. “Nothing . . .”
“Did you have another bad dream?” He might not know Liz’s sleeping patterns, but he’d bolted out of enough of his own nightmares to recognize the signs.
“No . . . it . . . no. Just a dream.”
“You wanna tell me about it?” Max stroked his thumb over her cheek. She leaned into his touch and he lay back down beside her, pulling her into his chest.
“It’s already fading away,” Liz traced her fingers along his muscles, over his unblemished his skin. Only fragments of the dream remained, nothing for him to worry about. He had enough stress to deal with without inventing more.
“Liz . . .” he tightened his arm around her shoulders. “Maria said something happened in the Crashdown yesterday . . .”
“She what?” she lifted her head from his chest and turned to look at him.
“Liz . . .”
She could hear the scolding tone in his voice, and also the worry. She set aside her irritation toward Maria and let out a resigned sigh. “It wasn’t anything,” she shook her head. “Not really. I heard a sound. I saw . . . something. I don’t know what it was. Mirrors reflecting the sun. I said ‘Something’s coming’. I don’t know why. Then it was over.”
“What was it?” Max tensed. What she just described wasn’t . . . normal.
“I was just tired,” Liz tried to explain it away. “That’s all.”
“You should have told me. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Max, not everything in my life is alien related.”
“Liz,” Max cupped her face gently with his hand. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”
Liz covered his hand with hers. “It’s not your fault. Besides, I’m right where I want to be.”
The tension in Max eased, he couldn’t help it. Her eyes held no blame, her touch no hesitation. Her acceptance of him, and all the baggage that came with him, was total.
Her hand brushed over his chest, touching his pristine flesh with her fingertips. She looked into his eyes and asked, “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”
“A what?” Max snorted a small laugh. Why was she asking him something like that?
Liz turned over, lying on her stomach beside him, propped up on her elbows so she could see his face. Their bare legs touched under the sheet from their hips all the way to the tips of her toes. Her finger traced a swirling pattern across his unmarked chest.
“A tattoo. If you got one, what would it be?”
“Well, I’ve never really thought about it,” Max closed his hand around hers. He frowned deep in thought, and then a smile broke over his face. He waved his hand over his chest and a small heart appeared, with the name Liz in the middle of it. He grinned at her, saying, “That’s what I’d get.”
“Oh, you are so gonna get kissed,” Liz leaned across him to do just that, both of them smiling as their lips came together.
Max shifted her body on top of his, feeling her hips line up with his, her stomach flat against his, the tips of her breasts poking his chest. He looked up into her dark eyes and asked, “What about you?”
“I think I’d get . . . a rose,” Liz pushed off from his chest and sat on his stomach. Her eyes twinkled at him as she added, “With Max written across it.”
Max felt a surge of possessiveness flash over him. He liked the idea of her carrying his name. His eyes swept over her body, asking, “Where would you put it?” His fingers touched the upper curve of her breast and asked, “Here?”
Liz shook her head. “My parents might see it. They wouldn’t approve.”
Max trailed his hand slowly down her bare back until he reached the curve of her butt. “What about here?”
“Then I couldn’t see it.”
His gaze swept over her naked flesh, stopping low on her abdomen. His fingers touched a spot inside her right hip bone, low enough that even the lowest riding panties would hide it. “Here?”
“I think that’s a perfect spot,” Liz smiled with a wanton sparkle in her eyes. His hand waved over her skin causing a brief tingling sensation. She looked down to see a rose appear, in full bloom, with the name Max written in script across one of the petals.
“Is it permanent?” Liz asked with a touch of wonder in her eyes.
“As long as you want it to be,” Max answered.
He turned her over onto her back and kissed his way down her chest, past her stomach, down to the new rose branding her skin. She was marked now, a symbol that she was his. He kissed the rose, then moved lower.
“Oh!” Liz let out a gasp when he reached his new destination.
“Shhh,” Max warned softly, but the vibrations it caused made her gasp again.
“Max,” she grabbed his hair. “You need to learn how to make a sound barrier.”
“I’ll work on it. Later . . .”
Liz pulled a pillow over her face to hold in the sounds as he rocked her world again.
* * * * *
Zan closed the motel room door behind him and shrugged into the sleeves of his denim jacket. It was old and worn and comfortable, just like his jeans. He didn’t really need the jacket; he was neither too warm nor too cold, but he liked the feel of it, and if anyone were to see him he would look out of place without it. It might be summer, but the nights were cold in the desert.
He walked the streets of Roswell, looking in the windows of the shops he passed by. The alien theme ran rampant throughout the town, from the lamp posts to the store fronts to the UFO Center in the middle of Main Street. The town was alien crazy, but the funny thing was, most of them probably didn’t even believe in aliens. Weren’t they gonna be surprised.
He reached inside the pocket of his jacket and removed a pack of Camels. He shook one out and tamped it on the back of his hand before wedging it between his lips. His lighter flared, bathing his sensual good looks in the orange glow as he lit the tip and drew the nicotine laced smoke into his lungs. He flicked the lighter closed and slid it into the front pocket of his jeans, the loss of the light once more cloaking him in a shroud of darkness.
His mind wandered as he walked, back to the day more than ten years ago when his pod spit him out onto the floor of their sanctuary. Rath had come out next, then Lonnie. The two paired up immediately, both recognizing their pre-selected podmate, while he had been forced to wait. Ava’s pod had been damaged in planetfall and when she finally emerged she was smaller than the rest of them, less developed, and woefully lacking. Their bonding never took.
At first he thought she just needed more time to perc, to catch up to the rest of them, but she never did fit in. She was always more human than the rest of them, more emotional, even though she tried to hide it. He kept her around because of the unique skills she possessed. He needed her mindwarping capabilities, because that was one power even he didn’t have.
Being with her had never really felt right, though. That is until tonight. But then, it hadn’t really been Ava he was with earlier, at least not in his mind. For a few minutes, he’d been with someone else.
The night breeze blew strands of his long hair across his face but he didn’t bother to push it aside. His eyes were drawn to the now familiar façade of the Crashdown restaurant across the street, picturing in his mind the girl who slept inside those walls. What was it about her that beckoned him so? Why did she talk to him in his dreams? Why did she make him feel things he couldn’t understand?
Why did he want her so?
His hand lifted to his mouth to pull another drag off his cigarette, while he watched, and waited.
* * * * *
“I’ll be back as soon as the Crashdown opens,” Max stood at the window with his arms around Liz.
“Okay,” she stretched up to kiss his lips. “Don’t get caught sneaking back in.”
“I’ll just shower and change over at Michael’s. That’s where my parents think I am anyway, and that way I won’t be completely lying about being there.”
“You’re gonna shower in Michael’s bathroom?” Liz shuddered. “That’s brave of you.”
“Don’t I know it,” Max chuckled.
He kissed her one last time and then climbed out the window. Liz moved to follow him, but he made her stay inside.
“Go back to sleep,” he brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Get some rest and I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Bye,” Liz stepped back, watching Max close the window. He used his powers to lock it from the outside, then moved across her balcony to the ladder. Liz sighed in contentment as she watched him go.
* * * * *
Zan’s stance stiffened when he saw movement at the top of the balcony. He melted back into the shadows of the UFO Center. Moments later a dark figure descended, his double sneaking down the ladder, trying to make his getaway before the girl’s parents caught him in her room. Watching him, Zan couldn’t help thinking it was such a human thing to do, something he couldn’t relate to. He’d never had parents to hide from, or rules to break. He set his own rules, and always had, from the moment he emerged from the pod.
He watched the boy climb down the ladder and disappear into the darkness down the alley. Moments later the sound of an engine drifted to him on the breeze, growing fainter as it drove away. He knew he should probably follow the boy, find out where he lived, find out what his story was, find out why he was told their backups were dead when obviously they weren’t, but the call of the girl was too strong.
Zan dropped the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under the heel of his boot. He pushed out of the shadows without taking his eyes off the balcony across the street, a figure striding with purpose, with only one destination in mind.
TBC . . .
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17 S/L/V
Author Note: I think it’s time to remind everyone that the mythology of this story is different than the show. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
Now, let’s get on to the story . . .
Aftermath
Part 35
A ray of moonlight fell across the bed, lancing across the bare muscle and skin of Zan’s smooth chest. His hand rested low on his belly, just above the edge of the sheet that covered his lower body. He shifted in his sleep, with his eyes darting back and forth under his lids, deep in another dream . . .
“Can you take your shirt off?”
“Can I . . .” He sucked in a breath at what she was asking him, the unspoken implication. Her eyes, so deep, so dark, so innocent, dominated her face. He swallowed hard, feeling his heart rate soar. “Yeah.”
Her fingers worked at the small buttons of his shirt and when the last one came free he pulled it off quickly, exposing the smooth skin of his chest. Her hand touched him, gliding over his muscles, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
“I can’t do it to you . . .”
He heard the disappointment in her tone, causing a small smile to curve his lips. “I’m glowing everywhere. My toes, my heart. You can’t see it. It’s on the inside.”
The need to kiss her was too strong. Her hands on his skin too tempting. His body’s reaction impossible to hide. Their breaths mingled, their lips so close.
“Could I get sick?”
“I don’t know anything,” his lips brushed over hers. He couldn’t think anymore. He didn’t know what was right, or what was wrong. He’d wanted this for so long. Wanted her. “I don’t even know who I am . . .”
Zan awoke with a restless need coursing through his body. The dream lingered, fragments, images, but one thing was clear this time. Her face hadn’t been hidden in shadows, or turned to the side, preventing him from seeing her. This time, the dream had shown him every curve, every line of her exquisite face, leaving no room for doubt. Liz Parker was the girl from his dreams.
Ava shifted next to him, turning over in her sleep. Her hair was back to blonde now, and curly again. He lifted the sheet to cover her nudity, knowing that she couldn’t help the ache that burned inside him. He could still feel the other’s hand on his chest, the dream girl, trying to make his skin glow.
He pulled the sheet away from his naked body and rose to his feet, leaving the bedroom and pacing across the thin carpet to the window by the door. The motel room was quiet in the dead of night, with the only audible sound a slight hum coming from the sign outside the window. Zan drew the curtain aside, letting in the neon lights to paint a rainbow of colors across his naked flesh.
Outside the streets of Roswell were dark. Quiet. Sleeping. As unsuspecting and unprepared as the world around them. He had no idea how soon the end would come for them, nor did he care. The fate of this world meant nothing to him. All he cared about was the girl. He could feel her down the road, just beyond the range of his vision, blissfully unaware of the fate that awaited her.
The dream lingered in his mind, of the girl who looked at him, and touched him like no other. And the boy that held her in his arms, feeling emotions Zan had no name for. Was it just a dream, or was it something more? Was it him, Zan, taking the girl down to the couch, or the other, his double – Max – feeling her pliant body beneath him? Were the dreams just a product of his own active imagination, or an alien connection to something else? Someone else?
The final words from his dream echoed in his brain, uttered in his own familiar voice.
“I don’t even know who I am . . .”
* * * * *
“Are you asleep?” he asked softly with his lips against the top of Liz’s head. His body spooned against hers, their naked flesh intimately aligned beneath the sheet that covered them.
“Ummm,” she lazily answered, feeling the comforting warmth of his hand resting flat against her stomach. “What time is it?”
“Early.”
Her head lifted to look at the clock on her nightstand. Starlight still colored the heavens, but it wouldn’t be long before the blush of the morning sun chased the stars away.
“Do you have to go?” Liz turned to face him. Meager light spilled in through the window, just enough for her to see the exposed skin of his torso, the ridges of his stomach, and the muscular curve of his chest. Her hand moved in slow motion over his familiar skin, up his ribs, past the dark circle of his nipple, to the swirling symbol tattooed on his chest. Her eyes snapped to his face, darkly framed by his shoulder length hair. The days old stubble that blanketed his cheeks couldn’t hide the small birthmark on his upper lip –
Liz awoke with a start, gasping for breath.
“Are you all right?” Max shifted position behind her, sitting up on his elbow to look over her shoulder.
Liz jerked around at the sound of his voice, tensely expecting to see the image from her dream. She visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief when his familiar features swam into focus. Short hair. Clean face. Max.
“Liz? What’s wrong?” he sat up fully.
“Nothing,” Liz willed her heart rate to slow. She dropped her head back onto the pillow and took a deep breath. “Nothing . . .”
“Did you have another bad dream?” He might not know Liz’s sleeping patterns, but he’d bolted out of enough of his own nightmares to recognize the signs.
“No . . . it . . . no. Just a dream.”
“You wanna tell me about it?” Max stroked his thumb over her cheek. She leaned into his touch and he lay back down beside her, pulling her into his chest.
“It’s already fading away,” Liz traced her fingers along his muscles, over his unblemished his skin. Only fragments of the dream remained, nothing for him to worry about. He had enough stress to deal with without inventing more.
“Liz . . .” he tightened his arm around her shoulders. “Maria said something happened in the Crashdown yesterday . . .”
“She what?” she lifted her head from his chest and turned to look at him.
“Liz . . .”
She could hear the scolding tone in his voice, and also the worry. She set aside her irritation toward Maria and let out a resigned sigh. “It wasn’t anything,” she shook her head. “Not really. I heard a sound. I saw . . . something. I don’t know what it was. Mirrors reflecting the sun. I said ‘Something’s coming’. I don’t know why. Then it was over.”
“What was it?” Max tensed. What she just described wasn’t . . . normal.
“I was just tired,” Liz tried to explain it away. “That’s all.”
“You should have told me. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Max, not everything in my life is alien related.”
“Liz,” Max cupped her face gently with his hand. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”
Liz covered his hand with hers. “It’s not your fault. Besides, I’m right where I want to be.”
The tension in Max eased, he couldn’t help it. Her eyes held no blame, her touch no hesitation. Her acceptance of him, and all the baggage that came with him, was total.
Her hand brushed over his chest, touching his pristine flesh with her fingertips. She looked into his eyes and asked, “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”
“A what?” Max snorted a small laugh. Why was she asking him something like that?
Liz turned over, lying on her stomach beside him, propped up on her elbows so she could see his face. Their bare legs touched under the sheet from their hips all the way to the tips of her toes. Her finger traced a swirling pattern across his unmarked chest.
“A tattoo. If you got one, what would it be?”
“Well, I’ve never really thought about it,” Max closed his hand around hers. He frowned deep in thought, and then a smile broke over his face. He waved his hand over his chest and a small heart appeared, with the name Liz in the middle of it. He grinned at her, saying, “That’s what I’d get.”
“Oh, you are so gonna get kissed,” Liz leaned across him to do just that, both of them smiling as their lips came together.
Max shifted her body on top of his, feeling her hips line up with his, her stomach flat against his, the tips of her breasts poking his chest. He looked up into her dark eyes and asked, “What about you?”
“I think I’d get . . . a rose,” Liz pushed off from his chest and sat on his stomach. Her eyes twinkled at him as she added, “With Max written across it.”
Max felt a surge of possessiveness flash over him. He liked the idea of her carrying his name. His eyes swept over her body, asking, “Where would you put it?” His fingers touched the upper curve of her breast and asked, “Here?”
Liz shook her head. “My parents might see it. They wouldn’t approve.”
Max trailed his hand slowly down her bare back until he reached the curve of her butt. “What about here?”
“Then I couldn’t see it.”
His gaze swept over her naked flesh, stopping low on her abdomen. His fingers touched a spot inside her right hip bone, low enough that even the lowest riding panties would hide it. “Here?”
“I think that’s a perfect spot,” Liz smiled with a wanton sparkle in her eyes. His hand waved over her skin causing a brief tingling sensation. She looked down to see a rose appear, in full bloom, with the name Max written in script across one of the petals.
“Is it permanent?” Liz asked with a touch of wonder in her eyes.
“As long as you want it to be,” Max answered.
He turned her over onto her back and kissed his way down her chest, past her stomach, down to the new rose branding her skin. She was marked now, a symbol that she was his. He kissed the rose, then moved lower.
“Oh!” Liz let out a gasp when he reached his new destination.
“Shhh,” Max warned softly, but the vibrations it caused made her gasp again.
“Max,” she grabbed his hair. “You need to learn how to make a sound barrier.”
“I’ll work on it. Later . . .”
Liz pulled a pillow over her face to hold in the sounds as he rocked her world again.
* * * * *
Zan closed the motel room door behind him and shrugged into the sleeves of his denim jacket. It was old and worn and comfortable, just like his jeans. He didn’t really need the jacket; he was neither too warm nor too cold, but he liked the feel of it, and if anyone were to see him he would look out of place without it. It might be summer, but the nights were cold in the desert.
He walked the streets of Roswell, looking in the windows of the shops he passed by. The alien theme ran rampant throughout the town, from the lamp posts to the store fronts to the UFO Center in the middle of Main Street. The town was alien crazy, but the funny thing was, most of them probably didn’t even believe in aliens. Weren’t they gonna be surprised.
He reached inside the pocket of his jacket and removed a pack of Camels. He shook one out and tamped it on the back of his hand before wedging it between his lips. His lighter flared, bathing his sensual good looks in the orange glow as he lit the tip and drew the nicotine laced smoke into his lungs. He flicked the lighter closed and slid it into the front pocket of his jeans, the loss of the light once more cloaking him in a shroud of darkness.
His mind wandered as he walked, back to the day more than ten years ago when his pod spit him out onto the floor of their sanctuary. Rath had come out next, then Lonnie. The two paired up immediately, both recognizing their pre-selected podmate, while he had been forced to wait. Ava’s pod had been damaged in planetfall and when she finally emerged she was smaller than the rest of them, less developed, and woefully lacking. Their bonding never took.
At first he thought she just needed more time to perc, to catch up to the rest of them, but she never did fit in. She was always more human than the rest of them, more emotional, even though she tried to hide it. He kept her around because of the unique skills she possessed. He needed her mindwarping capabilities, because that was one power even he didn’t have.
Being with her had never really felt right, though. That is until tonight. But then, it hadn’t really been Ava he was with earlier, at least not in his mind. For a few minutes, he’d been with someone else.
The night breeze blew strands of his long hair across his face but he didn’t bother to push it aside. His eyes were drawn to the now familiar façade of the Crashdown restaurant across the street, picturing in his mind the girl who slept inside those walls. What was it about her that beckoned him so? Why did she talk to him in his dreams? Why did she make him feel things he couldn’t understand?
Why did he want her so?
His hand lifted to his mouth to pull another drag off his cigarette, while he watched, and waited.
* * * * *
“I’ll be back as soon as the Crashdown opens,” Max stood at the window with his arms around Liz.
“Okay,” she stretched up to kiss his lips. “Don’t get caught sneaking back in.”
“I’ll just shower and change over at Michael’s. That’s where my parents think I am anyway, and that way I won’t be completely lying about being there.”
“You’re gonna shower in Michael’s bathroom?” Liz shuddered. “That’s brave of you.”
“Don’t I know it,” Max chuckled.
He kissed her one last time and then climbed out the window. Liz moved to follow him, but he made her stay inside.
“Go back to sleep,” he brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Get some rest and I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Bye,” Liz stepped back, watching Max close the window. He used his powers to lock it from the outside, then moved across her balcony to the ladder. Liz sighed in contentment as she watched him go.
* * * * *
Zan’s stance stiffened when he saw movement at the top of the balcony. He melted back into the shadows of the UFO Center. Moments later a dark figure descended, his double sneaking down the ladder, trying to make his getaway before the girl’s parents caught him in her room. Watching him, Zan couldn’t help thinking it was such a human thing to do, something he couldn’t relate to. He’d never had parents to hide from, or rules to break. He set his own rules, and always had, from the moment he emerged from the pod.
He watched the boy climb down the ladder and disappear into the darkness down the alley. Moments later the sound of an engine drifted to him on the breeze, growing fainter as it drove away. He knew he should probably follow the boy, find out where he lived, find out what his story was, find out why he was told their backups were dead when obviously they weren’t, but the call of the girl was too strong.
Zan dropped the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under the heel of his boot. He pushed out of the shadows without taking his eyes off the balcony across the street, a figure striding with purpose, with only one destination in mind.
TBC . . .
-
Breathless
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Aftermath Part 36
Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Author Note: Since the mythology of this story is different than the show, I should probably keep this posted at the beginning of each chapter. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
From Sexual Healing:
Aftermath
Part 36
Liz raced around her room, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top and searching for her shoes. Early morning flights were a pain in the –
“Let’s get this show on the road!” Jeff Parker shouted from the hallway. “I’ll be waiting downstairs!”
“I’ll be right there!” Liz hollered back. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail wondering why she volunteered to drive her parents to the airport. She must have momentarily lost her mind.
Liz rushed by the window and spied her sandals lying underneath one of the patio chairs on her balcony. She opened the window and climbed out to retrieve them. She sat down quickly and slipped on one, and then the other, and was just about to bounce to her feet when something caught her eye on the ground a few feet away.
She crouched beside it, wondering how in the world a cigarette butt ended up on her balcony. None of her friends smoked, though Maria had tried it once, back in seventh grade. She’d stolen it from her cousin Sean, a juvenile delinquent who smoked and drank and got busted last year for possession.
Liz pinched the filter between her index finger and her thumb, intending to toss it over the balcony, until she was hit with the flash. Images raced at her, sharp, fast, fractured and disturbing.
Darkness.
Smoke.
Sunlight reflecting on mirrors.
Swirling symbols. On skin. Muscle. Bone.
A motorcycle engine roaring to life. A headlight blinding. A boot against pavement rising to a muscular thigh trapped in leather, sitting on black steel and chrome.
A man in silhouette. Light shining behind him. Long hair streaming in the wind. Eyes somewhere between hazel and honey, looking into her soul.
A cigarette butt arcing through the darkness, spinning end for end through the night air.
Spinning . . . spinning . . . spinning . . .
Dizziness swept over Liz making her lose her balance. She fell back against the ground feeling a chill sweep through her body. The cigarette butt slipped from her fingers and rolled away. She shuddered at the vision, or flash, or hallucination, not knowing what to call it.
“What the hell?” she tried to catch her breath.
“Liz!” Nancy Parker called out to her daughter. “Time to go!”
“Coming . . .” Liz rose to her feet, trying to shake off a sudden sense of foreboding.
* * * * *
Jeff Parker looked at his watch for the tenth time in the last two minutes. If they didn’t get out of there soon, they were going to miss their flight.
“Nancy!” Jeff bellowed up the stairs. “Come on! We’re gonna be late!”
“Do you need any help?”
The soft spoken voice came from behind him and Jeff turned to see Max Evans standing just inside the swinging door to the café. The boy had a smile on his face, staring at all the luggage Jeff was buried under. He smiled back at him.
“I think Nancy packed the kitchen sink in that one,” Jeff pointed at a massive suitcase.
“My parents went to Hawaii last year,” Max walked over and pulled up the handle on a wheeled suitcase. “The luggage almost broke my dad’s back.”
“It’s hard to believe shorts and tropical shirts can take up so much room,” Jeff commiserated. Voices sounded on the stairs above them moments before Nancy and Liz’s feet came into view.
“Tickets? Travelers checks? Film? Toothbrush? Suntan lotion?”
“Suntan lotion!” Nancy cried out and her feet turned to run back up the stairs.
“We can buy it there!” Jeff shouted at his wife’s disappearing feet. “It’s Hawaii, not the moon! They have stores there, you know!” He turned to Max and mumbled under his breath, “Women!”
Max smiled and threw a tote bag over his shoulder. Jeff Parker wasn’t so scary, once you got to know him.
* * * * *
Zan entered the Crashdown accompanied by the sound of a bell announcing his arrival, but no one seemed to notice. The restaurant was crowded, as busy for breakfast as it had been for dinner the night before. Liz Parker was nowhere to be seen, but the other girls were here. Lonnie’s and Ava’s doubles, and even the blonde haired waitress who’d pissed him off the night before.
He moved to the front booth, the same one he’d sat in last night, and stared down at the couple occupying it. His voice was as threatening as his stance when he growled, “I was sitting here.”
“No you weren’t,” the man challenged back. His wife sat across from him looking scared by the young man’s appearance.
“You can sit over there,” Zan pointed at a table in the middle that was just being cleared.
“We’ve already ordered.” The man wasn’t backing down.
“John,” his wife sounded timid. This guy looked mean. “Maybe we should –”
“This is our table, Marilyn,” John fumed. No street thug was going to make him –
“John!” Marilyn’s hand flew to her mouth.
John felt it then, the gush of liquid coming from his nose. He rubbed his index finger across his nostrils and noticed how it came away red. Blood. His nose was bleeding. What the hell?
Marilyn pushed a napkin at him, but one wasn’t enough. Neither was two, or three. A handful of napkins were soon drenched, and still the blood was flowing.
“Jesus,” John exclaimed, looking at the red drops pooling on the table.
“You better get that checked,” Zan relaxed his stance. A human was no match for him. It was so easy to pop a blood vessel in the nose, or the eye, or the brain.
“Come on, John,” Marilyn helped her husband from the booth and out of the restaurant.
Zan took their spot at the table, cleaning the mess with a simple wave of his hand before anyone noticed. A surly waitress dropped two breakfast plates in front of him a few moments later. Zan pulled one close and dug into it with relish. As he ate he listened to the girls’ conversation two booths over.
“Where’d Max go?” Isabel grumbled over her Spanish omelet.
“He went with Liz,” Maria set a plate of pancakes in front of Tess. “They left a few minutes ago to take her parents to the airport.”
“God, it’s like those two are joined at the hip,” Isabel stabbed at a bite of omelet and brought it to her mouth.
“I don’t think it’s the hip they’re joined at,” Maria observed, and then laughed when Isabel threw her fork down in disgust. It was funny to see Isabel get so ruffled by talk of her brother’s sex life.
“When do you get off work?” Isabel changed the subject.
“Noon.”
“Good. Don’t make any plans. We’re all going to the mall this afternoon.”
“We are?” Maria and Tess said together.
“Of course,” Isabel looked at them like they were both dense. “We have a dance to go to tonight. We have to buy new outfits.”
“We do?” Tess looked at her in surprise.
“It’s the human way,” Maria nodded. She thought about it for a minute and then smiled evilly. “I’m in.” She was so going to make Michael squirm tonight.
Zan sat in the front booth listening closely to their conversation. Did the whole town know they had aliens in their midst, or just this small group of teenagers? He needed to know, and for Zan there was one sure way to find out. He closed his eyes and concentrated.
His mind probed the blonde waitress but pulled out moments later to save his sanity. Her thoughts were a whirl of disjointed images, too jumbled to make sense of. He tried Lonnie’s double next, finding her thoughts calmer, more controlled, but fruitless. He would have to probe her mind in more detail later, when her thoughts weren’t so consumed by the latest fashion trends. Zan tried the third girl next, the Ava look alike.
Tess paused in mid swallow. She looked to the right, and then behind her, but nothing seemed out of place. So why had the hairs just risen on the back of her neck? And why did it feel like someone was staring at her?
Zan pulled out of Tess Harding’s mind with a start. He pushed the empty breakfast plate away and left the restaurant in a rush.
* * * * *
“What are we doing here?” Tess stood outside Shimmers, staring at the mannequins in the display window dressed in black leather and lace.
“I second that question,” Liz agreed. Leather bustiers weren’t her thing.
Tess looked at Liz sharply, wondering if she was making fun of her, but the human girl was staring at the mannequin with the same uncomprehending expression she’d had a moment before.
“It’s every boy’s wet dream,” Maria said what they were all thinking. Then she added, “Let’s go in there!”
“Does anyone really wear leather bustiers?” Liz asked, and then regretted it when Isabel glared at her.
“What’s wrong with leather bustiers?” Isabel grumbled as they walked into the store.
Twenty minutes later Liz found the perfect outfit for the party. She grabbed the black lace bustier off the rack and held it up to her chest.
“What do you think?” Liz modeled it for the others, only half serious. It was too risqué. Too sexually charged. Too suggestive.
“IT’S PERFECT!” Maria cried out, making Liz blush.
“Really?” she scrunched her nose.
“Do you know what that’s going to do to my brother?” Isabel cocked an eyebrow.
Tess watched the easy camaraderie between the girls, wishing she was a part of it. She knew she’d only been invited along because they felt a sense of obligation, not because they really wanted her here. She knew she shouldn’t blame them for that, her entrance into their lives hadn’t been exactly welcome. Still, it hurt to always feel on the outside.
“This one screams Tess!” Isabel held up a silver lame backless top.
“You think so?” Tess asked uncertainly. It had a high neckline, with the hem ending right above the navel, and criss-cross straps across the back.
“No,” Liz said bluntly, disagreeing with Isabel.
Tess immediately put the top back on the rack.
Liz pawed through the rack and pulled another top out, similar to the silver one, except this one was made of buttery soft black leather.
“Silver’s not your color,” Liz handed the top to Tess. “But guys go crazy over blondes in black leather.”
“You think so?” Tess looked her straight in the eye, trying to judge if Liz was being sincere, or just making fun of her.
“I know so,” Liz gave her a conspiratorial smile. “Have you seen the biker babes in the magazines Kyle looks at?”
Tess held the top up to her chest picturing Kyle’s reaction, with a slow smile spreading across her face.
Maria drew Liz aside a few minutes later and asked, “Why are you being so nice to her?”
“To who?” Liz arched an eyebrow.
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
Liz turned to look at Tess browsing through a rack of leather pants. “Everybody deserves a second chance, Maria.”
* * * * *
Max sat beside Kyle at the counter in the Crashdown, waiting for the girls to come down. Isabel had gone on ahead with Michael and Maria to help Alex with the set up, leaving just the four of them behind.
Kyle tapped a rhythm on the countertop with his thumbs, bored with the waiting. He stared at the door into the backroom of the diner and asked, “What the hell takes them so long? They’ve been up there for an hour.”
“I can tell you’ve never had a sister,” Max sipped at his soda. He knew how to be patient.
* * * * *
Liz sat on her bed applying the final coat of polish to her nails. She glanced toward the bathroom and raised her voice, “Are you almost ready?”
“Almost,” Tess stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She was almost ready to chicken out and not go at all. She didn’t know how to fit in with the rest of them. She didn’t know how to be human.
“Damnit,” Liz’s voice drifted to her through the door.
Tess poked her head into the bedroom and asked, “Something wrong?”
“I smudged,” Liz held up her hand showing her painted fingernails.
Tess walked across the room and took a look. Sure enough, the red polish on her right hand was smeared.
“There’s no time to fix it,” Liz grumbled after looking at the clock.
“I can fix it,” Tess offered.
Liz met Tess’s hesitant gaze with a wary look of her own. Neither one of them spoke of it, or even acknowledged it, but the air between them was just as tense as always. Tess felt overwhelmed with conflicting emotions about her place in the group. Liz couldn’t let go of the horrible things Tess had done to Max. Peace reigned for the sake of the group, but it was an uneasy alliance.
Liz fought back her animosity and raised her hand to Tess. “Okay.”
Tess held her hand over Liz’s and both girls watched as the polish smoothed out. All trace of the smudge was gone in seconds.
Liz flexed her fingers when Tess was done and said, “Thanks.” The genuine smile on her face said that she meant it.
“You’re welcome,” Tess shrugged, like it was no big deal. She turned toward the door but Liz stopped her.
“Wait.” Liz walked up behind Tess and tugged at the waistband of her leather pants. Tess looked around startled, trying to see what she was doing. With a final tug, Liz said, “Your tag was showing. You wouldn’t want to ruin your look with a ‘Dry Clean Only’ label hanging out for the whole world to see.”
“Thanks,” Tess smiled with a look somewhere between embarrassment and gratitude.
“No problem,” Liz shrugged. A smile spread over her face and she said, “Let’s go knock their socks off.”
The amicable look that passed between the two girls was far from true friendship, but at least it was a start.
* * * * *
“So I’m getting ready to throw a long bomb to Long John when –”
“Long John?” Max interrupted.
“Paul Harris,” Kyle cocked his head, as if it was obvious.
“Oh. OH!” understanding dawned and Max nodded. “Paul. Right.” He’d seen Paul in the showers.
“So anyway,” Kyle continued. “I threw the ball just as Cindy Stillman did the splits on the sidelines.”
“Cindy Stillman?”
“Head cheerleader,” Kyle gawked at him. How could Max not know Cindy Stillman?
“Sorry,” Max shrugged.
“Man,” Kyle shook his head. “You gotta get out more often.”
Max chuckled at Kyle’s good natured jab. He liked Kyle, even if he was a wisecracking pain in the ass.
“So Paul gets hit right in the – oh Christ –” Kyle’s voice died in his throat. Max followed his line of sight and he saw them too. His pulse quickened.
Liz stood in the doorway wearing black lace and an innocent smile. Tess stood beside her looking tempting in black leather.
“Sweet and spicy,” Kyle swallowed hard.
“I like it sweet,” Max couldn’t take his eyes off Liz.
“I like it spicy,” Kyle’s eyes were glued to Tess.
“Why are they staring like that?” Tess whispered to Liz.
“I think they’re hungry,” Liz whispered back.
“Should we eat before we go?” Tess asked.
“It’s not that kind of hungry,” Liz answered.
TBC . . .
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Author Note: Since the mythology of this story is different than the show, I should probably keep this posted at the beginning of each chapter. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
From Sexual Healing:
“What are you doing here, Max?”
“Well, I have orders from my planet. To take over the Earth.”
Aftermath
Part 36
Liz raced around her room, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top and searching for her shoes. Early morning flights were a pain in the –
“Let’s get this show on the road!” Jeff Parker shouted from the hallway. “I’ll be waiting downstairs!”
“I’ll be right there!” Liz hollered back. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail wondering why she volunteered to drive her parents to the airport. She must have momentarily lost her mind.
Liz rushed by the window and spied her sandals lying underneath one of the patio chairs on her balcony. She opened the window and climbed out to retrieve them. She sat down quickly and slipped on one, and then the other, and was just about to bounce to her feet when something caught her eye on the ground a few feet away.
She crouched beside it, wondering how in the world a cigarette butt ended up on her balcony. None of her friends smoked, though Maria had tried it once, back in seventh grade. She’d stolen it from her cousin Sean, a juvenile delinquent who smoked and drank and got busted last year for possession.
Liz pinched the filter between her index finger and her thumb, intending to toss it over the balcony, until she was hit with the flash. Images raced at her, sharp, fast, fractured and disturbing.
Darkness.
Smoke.
Sunlight reflecting on mirrors.
Swirling symbols. On skin. Muscle. Bone.
A motorcycle engine roaring to life. A headlight blinding. A boot against pavement rising to a muscular thigh trapped in leather, sitting on black steel and chrome.
A man in silhouette. Light shining behind him. Long hair streaming in the wind. Eyes somewhere between hazel and honey, looking into her soul.
A cigarette butt arcing through the darkness, spinning end for end through the night air.
Spinning . . . spinning . . . spinning . . .
Dizziness swept over Liz making her lose her balance. She fell back against the ground feeling a chill sweep through her body. The cigarette butt slipped from her fingers and rolled away. She shuddered at the vision, or flash, or hallucination, not knowing what to call it.
“What the hell?” she tried to catch her breath.
“Liz!” Nancy Parker called out to her daughter. “Time to go!”
“Coming . . .” Liz rose to her feet, trying to shake off a sudden sense of foreboding.
* * * * *
Jeff Parker looked at his watch for the tenth time in the last two minutes. If they didn’t get out of there soon, they were going to miss their flight.
“Nancy!” Jeff bellowed up the stairs. “Come on! We’re gonna be late!”
“Do you need any help?”
The soft spoken voice came from behind him and Jeff turned to see Max Evans standing just inside the swinging door to the café. The boy had a smile on his face, staring at all the luggage Jeff was buried under. He smiled back at him.
“I think Nancy packed the kitchen sink in that one,” Jeff pointed at a massive suitcase.
“My parents went to Hawaii last year,” Max walked over and pulled up the handle on a wheeled suitcase. “The luggage almost broke my dad’s back.”
“It’s hard to believe shorts and tropical shirts can take up so much room,” Jeff commiserated. Voices sounded on the stairs above them moments before Nancy and Liz’s feet came into view.
“Tickets? Travelers checks? Film? Toothbrush? Suntan lotion?”
“Suntan lotion!” Nancy cried out and her feet turned to run back up the stairs.
“We can buy it there!” Jeff shouted at his wife’s disappearing feet. “It’s Hawaii, not the moon! They have stores there, you know!” He turned to Max and mumbled under his breath, “Women!”
Max smiled and threw a tote bag over his shoulder. Jeff Parker wasn’t so scary, once you got to know him.
* * * * *
Zan entered the Crashdown accompanied by the sound of a bell announcing his arrival, but no one seemed to notice. The restaurant was crowded, as busy for breakfast as it had been for dinner the night before. Liz Parker was nowhere to be seen, but the other girls were here. Lonnie’s and Ava’s doubles, and even the blonde haired waitress who’d pissed him off the night before.
He moved to the front booth, the same one he’d sat in last night, and stared down at the couple occupying it. His voice was as threatening as his stance when he growled, “I was sitting here.”
“No you weren’t,” the man challenged back. His wife sat across from him looking scared by the young man’s appearance.
“You can sit over there,” Zan pointed at a table in the middle that was just being cleared.
“We’ve already ordered.” The man wasn’t backing down.
“John,” his wife sounded timid. This guy looked mean. “Maybe we should –”
“This is our table, Marilyn,” John fumed. No street thug was going to make him –
“John!” Marilyn’s hand flew to her mouth.
John felt it then, the gush of liquid coming from his nose. He rubbed his index finger across his nostrils and noticed how it came away red. Blood. His nose was bleeding. What the hell?
Marilyn pushed a napkin at him, but one wasn’t enough. Neither was two, or three. A handful of napkins were soon drenched, and still the blood was flowing.
“Jesus,” John exclaimed, looking at the red drops pooling on the table.
“You better get that checked,” Zan relaxed his stance. A human was no match for him. It was so easy to pop a blood vessel in the nose, or the eye, or the brain.
“Come on, John,” Marilyn helped her husband from the booth and out of the restaurant.
Zan took their spot at the table, cleaning the mess with a simple wave of his hand before anyone noticed. A surly waitress dropped two breakfast plates in front of him a few moments later. Zan pulled one close and dug into it with relish. As he ate he listened to the girls’ conversation two booths over.
“Where’d Max go?” Isabel grumbled over her Spanish omelet.
“He went with Liz,” Maria set a plate of pancakes in front of Tess. “They left a few minutes ago to take her parents to the airport.”
“God, it’s like those two are joined at the hip,” Isabel stabbed at a bite of omelet and brought it to her mouth.
“I don’t think it’s the hip they’re joined at,” Maria observed, and then laughed when Isabel threw her fork down in disgust. It was funny to see Isabel get so ruffled by talk of her brother’s sex life.
“When do you get off work?” Isabel changed the subject.
“Noon.”
“Good. Don’t make any plans. We’re all going to the mall this afternoon.”
“We are?” Maria and Tess said together.
“Of course,” Isabel looked at them like they were both dense. “We have a dance to go to tonight. We have to buy new outfits.”
“We do?” Tess looked at her in surprise.
“It’s the human way,” Maria nodded. She thought about it for a minute and then smiled evilly. “I’m in.” She was so going to make Michael squirm tonight.
Zan sat in the front booth listening closely to their conversation. Did the whole town know they had aliens in their midst, or just this small group of teenagers? He needed to know, and for Zan there was one sure way to find out. He closed his eyes and concentrated.
His mind probed the blonde waitress but pulled out moments later to save his sanity. Her thoughts were a whirl of disjointed images, too jumbled to make sense of. He tried Lonnie’s double next, finding her thoughts calmer, more controlled, but fruitless. He would have to probe her mind in more detail later, when her thoughts weren’t so consumed by the latest fashion trends. Zan tried the third girl next, the Ava look alike.
Tess paused in mid swallow. She looked to the right, and then behind her, but nothing seemed out of place. So why had the hairs just risen on the back of her neck? And why did it feel like someone was staring at her?
Zan pulled out of Tess Harding’s mind with a start. He pushed the empty breakfast plate away and left the restaurant in a rush.
* * * * *
“What are we doing here?” Tess stood outside Shimmers, staring at the mannequins in the display window dressed in black leather and lace.
“I second that question,” Liz agreed. Leather bustiers weren’t her thing.
Tess looked at Liz sharply, wondering if she was making fun of her, but the human girl was staring at the mannequin with the same uncomprehending expression she’d had a moment before.
“It’s every boy’s wet dream,” Maria said what they were all thinking. Then she added, “Let’s go in there!”
“Does anyone really wear leather bustiers?” Liz asked, and then regretted it when Isabel glared at her.
“What’s wrong with leather bustiers?” Isabel grumbled as they walked into the store.
Twenty minutes later Liz found the perfect outfit for the party. She grabbed the black lace bustier off the rack and held it up to her chest.
“What do you think?” Liz modeled it for the others, only half serious. It was too risqué. Too sexually charged. Too suggestive.
“IT’S PERFECT!” Maria cried out, making Liz blush.
“Really?” she scrunched her nose.
“Do you know what that’s going to do to my brother?” Isabel cocked an eyebrow.
Tess watched the easy camaraderie between the girls, wishing she was a part of it. She knew she’d only been invited along because they felt a sense of obligation, not because they really wanted her here. She knew she shouldn’t blame them for that, her entrance into their lives hadn’t been exactly welcome. Still, it hurt to always feel on the outside.
“This one screams Tess!” Isabel held up a silver lame backless top.
“You think so?” Tess asked uncertainly. It had a high neckline, with the hem ending right above the navel, and criss-cross straps across the back.
“No,” Liz said bluntly, disagreeing with Isabel.
Tess immediately put the top back on the rack.
Liz pawed through the rack and pulled another top out, similar to the silver one, except this one was made of buttery soft black leather.
“Silver’s not your color,” Liz handed the top to Tess. “But guys go crazy over blondes in black leather.”
“You think so?” Tess looked her straight in the eye, trying to judge if Liz was being sincere, or just making fun of her.
“I know so,” Liz gave her a conspiratorial smile. “Have you seen the biker babes in the magazines Kyle looks at?”
Tess held the top up to her chest picturing Kyle’s reaction, with a slow smile spreading across her face.
Maria drew Liz aside a few minutes later and asked, “Why are you being so nice to her?”
“To who?” Liz arched an eyebrow.
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
Liz turned to look at Tess browsing through a rack of leather pants. “Everybody deserves a second chance, Maria.”
* * * * *
Max sat beside Kyle at the counter in the Crashdown, waiting for the girls to come down. Isabel had gone on ahead with Michael and Maria to help Alex with the set up, leaving just the four of them behind.
Kyle tapped a rhythm on the countertop with his thumbs, bored with the waiting. He stared at the door into the backroom of the diner and asked, “What the hell takes them so long? They’ve been up there for an hour.”
“I can tell you’ve never had a sister,” Max sipped at his soda. He knew how to be patient.
* * * * *
Liz sat on her bed applying the final coat of polish to her nails. She glanced toward the bathroom and raised her voice, “Are you almost ready?”
“Almost,” Tess stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She was almost ready to chicken out and not go at all. She didn’t know how to fit in with the rest of them. She didn’t know how to be human.
“Damnit,” Liz’s voice drifted to her through the door.
Tess poked her head into the bedroom and asked, “Something wrong?”
“I smudged,” Liz held up her hand showing her painted fingernails.
Tess walked across the room and took a look. Sure enough, the red polish on her right hand was smeared.
“There’s no time to fix it,” Liz grumbled after looking at the clock.
“I can fix it,” Tess offered.
Liz met Tess’s hesitant gaze with a wary look of her own. Neither one of them spoke of it, or even acknowledged it, but the air between them was just as tense as always. Tess felt overwhelmed with conflicting emotions about her place in the group. Liz couldn’t let go of the horrible things Tess had done to Max. Peace reigned for the sake of the group, but it was an uneasy alliance.
Liz fought back her animosity and raised her hand to Tess. “Okay.”
Tess held her hand over Liz’s and both girls watched as the polish smoothed out. All trace of the smudge was gone in seconds.
Liz flexed her fingers when Tess was done and said, “Thanks.” The genuine smile on her face said that she meant it.
“You’re welcome,” Tess shrugged, like it was no big deal. She turned toward the door but Liz stopped her.
“Wait.” Liz walked up behind Tess and tugged at the waistband of her leather pants. Tess looked around startled, trying to see what she was doing. With a final tug, Liz said, “Your tag was showing. You wouldn’t want to ruin your look with a ‘Dry Clean Only’ label hanging out for the whole world to see.”
“Thanks,” Tess smiled with a look somewhere between embarrassment and gratitude.
“No problem,” Liz shrugged. A smile spread over her face and she said, “Let’s go knock their socks off.”
The amicable look that passed between the two girls was far from true friendship, but at least it was a start.
* * * * *
“So I’m getting ready to throw a long bomb to Long John when –”
“Long John?” Max interrupted.
“Paul Harris,” Kyle cocked his head, as if it was obvious.
“Oh. OH!” understanding dawned and Max nodded. “Paul. Right.” He’d seen Paul in the showers.
“So anyway,” Kyle continued. “I threw the ball just as Cindy Stillman did the splits on the sidelines.”
“Cindy Stillman?”
“Head cheerleader,” Kyle gawked at him. How could Max not know Cindy Stillman?
“Sorry,” Max shrugged.
“Man,” Kyle shook his head. “You gotta get out more often.”
Max chuckled at Kyle’s good natured jab. He liked Kyle, even if he was a wisecracking pain in the ass.
“So Paul gets hit right in the – oh Christ –” Kyle’s voice died in his throat. Max followed his line of sight and he saw them too. His pulse quickened.
Liz stood in the doorway wearing black lace and an innocent smile. Tess stood beside her looking tempting in black leather.
“Sweet and spicy,” Kyle swallowed hard.
“I like it sweet,” Max couldn’t take his eyes off Liz.
“I like it spicy,” Kyle’s eyes were glued to Tess.
“Why are they staring like that?” Tess whispered to Liz.
“I think they’re hungry,” Liz whispered back.
“Should we eat before we go?” Tess asked.
“It’s not that kind of hungry,” Liz answered.
TBC . . .
-
Breathless
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 254
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- Location: Somewhere in ficland
Aftermath Part 37
Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Author Note: Sine the mythology of this story is different than the show, I should probably keep this posted at the beginning of each chapter. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
From Sexual Healing:
“What are you doing here, Max?”
“Well, I have orders from my planet. To take over the Earth.”
Aftermath
Part 37
Zan heard the primal sound of the music as soon as he cut the engine of the stolen Camero he’d jacked back in Roswell. The ride wasn’t as exciting as the feel of the Harley between his legs, but he wanted to blend in tonight, not attract attention, and the Harley was far from quiet. Ava climbed out of the car and stood silently beside it, waiting to follow Zan’s lead. Lonnie and Rath climbed out of the back.
“What da ya want us ta do?” Rath rubbed his hand along his chin. There was a shitload of girls here. He could have himself some fun.
“I told you to take care of your hair,” Zan glared at Rath’s Mohawk. “This is New Mexico, not New York. I wanna blend in here, not stand out like a sore thumb.”
“I like this hair,” Rath grumbled and then regretted it when Zan’s glare turned deadly. “Okay. Okay.” He reluctantly threaded his hands through his hair, changing the strands into a shorter, spiky do. Just like his double.
Zan acknowledged the change with a grunt. Satisfied, he gave them their instructions. “Watch your doubles. Learn how they talk. How they walk. Their mannerisms. Their body language. But stay in the shadows. Don’t let ‘em see you.”
“What about me?” Ava asked in a small voice. She was the only one dressed to match her double. She could only imagine what that meant.
Zan swept his eyes over her petite body. “I’ve got plans for you.”
* * * * *
The dark interior of the club vibrated with activity, music blaring from speakers on the stage, colored lights strobing over the mass of moving bodies on the dance floor.
Michael stood by the bar with one hand in his pocket, the other holding a plastic cup full of Coke. Crowds made him nervous, especially now. His gaze swept over the room, constantly monitoring the others. Max and Liz on the dance floor. Isabel in front of the stage. Maria and Alex on it. Kyle and Tess sitting together at a table. Good. Everyone was accounted for.
Maria stood center stage with her rich vocals flowing from the speakers. Alex confidently played bass guitar beside her, watching a fantasy play out in real time. He’d had a dream once, of Isabel standing in front of the stage, watching him play, urging him on. She wasn’t twirling her bra around her head like she had in the dream, but she was swaying to the music and smiling up at him, and that was close enough. He couldn’t stop grinning.
Kyle fidgeted at the table beside Tess. How did you make small talk with an alien? He flashed her a nervous smile and said, “So . . .”
Tess squirmed beside him, trying to think of something to say. “Nice party.”
“Yeah,” Kyle agreed, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with anything better to say. “Hey,” he scooted back his chair and pointed toward the bar. “Do you want anything?”
Tess thought over her options for a moment before deciding. She’d learned her lesson the hard way about saying ‘Whatever you’re having’.
“Do you think they have lemonade?”
“I’ll go see,” Kyle rose to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”
On the dance floor Max leaned close to Liz’s ear so she could hear him over the music. “Is this ‘Love Hurts’?”
“Love Kills,” Liz corrected him.
Colored lights flashed over their skin, highlighting their faces in shades of blue and red and green. Bodies bumped into them as dancers undulated around them. A hand brushed against the small of her back, almost a caress, sending a shiver down her spine, but when she looked behind her there was nothing there. Just dancers moving to the music.
“Liz?”
“What?” she whipped her head back toward Max.
He leaned closer, feeling the bass guitar rumbling through his chest. “I said, how can you tell the difference?”
“Between the songs? Years of listening to Alex play,” Liz laughed and snuggled closer. He smelled so good. His hand slid up and down her back, making her shiver again, this time a good kind of shiver.
Zan moved through the dancers like a shadow, returning to a dim corner of the room where he could watch her. He shouldn’t have touched her, not with his duplicate so close, but he couldn’t help the rising need. The primal pull was too strong.
The memory of this morning still burned sharply in his mind. Watching her through the window. Her face peaceful in sleep. Her voice sighing from sweet dreams. Sighing a name. Sighing his name. Max. He could have completed his mission right then and there; the window was no barrier to him. It couldn’t keep him out.
He should have followed his directive . . . but . . . her skin felt so soft. Hair like silk. Skin like satin. Her peaceful face . . .
He watched her as she slept, moonlight caressing her skin, the desert breeze lifting strands of her dark hair and blowing it across her face. His fingers brushed it away. He settled in beside her, draping his arm around her. The orb lay on a corner of the blanket just a few feet away –
Zan shook off the memory of the dream, fighting against the emotion it engendered. He let his primal urges take over, the familiar thrumming inside that called to him. He would have to take her soon. Not to kill her. Not yet. There was too much he still wanted to learn about her. He had to be patient, and wait. And he had to deal with the other one first.
“I wonder how the music sounds from outside?” Max nuzzled against Liz’s ear.
“When did you turn into such a horn dog?” Liz giggled. His breath tickled.
“I’ve always been this way,” he chuckled. “I just kept it hidden. C’mon. Let’s go.” He tried to pull her from the dance floor, but she stopped him.
“Wait,” Liz pulled on his hand. “They’re playing Addicted to Love next.”
No sooner had Love Kills ended, than Addicted to Love began. Max looked from the band back to Liz and cocked his head.
“How’d you know they were gonna play that next?”
“I know their playlist?” Liz suggested. The truth was, she didn’t know how she knew it. A sense of uneasiness stabbed through her, but then Max folded his arms around her and they let the music sweep them away again.
Kyle made his way to the refreshment bar lamenting the fact he forgot his flask at home. A little rum would have gone nicely with his Coke right about now. But then again, maybe it was good that he didn’t bring it. Just a sip had knocked him on his ass last time, and he wasn’t anxious to have that happen again.
Zan watched the human approach the bar with a keen eye. It was almost time to put the first phase of his plan into action. “Get ready . . .”
Ava tensed beside him.
“Fuck,” Zan hissed when the human stopped to talk to Rath’s duplicate.
“Hey, man,” Kyle walked up beside Michael.
“How’s it going?” Michael replied.
Kyle shrugged and looked toward the stage. “Maria’s sounding pretty good. Looking good, too.”
“Yeah,” Michael nodded, enjoying the view. “Tess ain’t looking bad herself.”
Kyle glanced behind him, looking at her small figure at the table. “She’s hot. Maybe . . .”
“Maybe what?” Michael asked when Kyle didn’t finish.
“Maybe I better get my ass back there,” Kyle headed for the bar to get their drinks. Michael smirked, wondering if Kyle’s sudden attention had anything to do with the fact that Paul Harris was currently asking Tess to dance.
At the table Tess was growing more uncomfortable by the second with Paul’s attentions. He wasn’t interested in her. He just wanted to jump her bones, just like all the other boys.
“C’mon, honey,” Paul used his best come on voice. “The music’s just waitin’ for us.”
“No thanks,” Tess told him again.
In the shadows Zan watched it all. Ava stood beside him waiting for his instructions.
“Get ready . . .”
Ava concentrated on the boy at the bar. Kyle. It was easy to get into his mind. His thoughts were uncomplicated. He was attracted to her double. To Tess. That was about to change.
Michael took a sip of his Coke while Kyle paid for his drinks.
“Max and Alex are going to Las Cruces tomorrow.”
“For that book thing?” Kyle asked and took a bottled lemonade from the bartender.
“Yeah. Alex has some nerd cousin going to school there. Won’t have any problem getting them access to the super computer.”
“Nerds run in the family, huh?” Kyle laughed. “Must be tough.”
“Yeah?” Michael pointed toward the stage. “Well look which chick the nerd’s got.”
“You’ve got a point,” Kyle smirked at the way Isabel was bopping around in front of the stage like a groupie.
Michael shifted his gaze to Maria, just as a male jock, in similar groupie mode positioned himself directly in front of her. His ire rose when he saw her give the guy a flirty wink.
“Later,” Michael grumbled. Kyle’s smile deepened, watching him make a beeline for the stage. Michael’s stone wall was crumbling.
Tess rose from the table to escape Paul Harris’s advances. She headed straight for Kyle just as Todd Warrick joined him at the bar.
“Now,” Zan instructed. It was all playing out just the way he wanted it to.
Ava closed her eyes.
“Hey, Kyle,” Todd nodded a greeting.
“Hey Todd,” Kyle grinned.
“Did I see you sitting over there with Tess Harding?”
“Yeah,” Kyle’s grin widened.
“So how is she?” Todd leered the way only teenage boys could. “Hot stuff?”
“How would I know?” Kyle frowned at his insinuation.
“Aren’t ya nailing her?” Todd elbowed him.
“Why would I want Tess Harding?” Kyle’s voice rose loud enough to hear in a twenty foot radius. “I don’t want Max Evans’s rejects.”
Tess froze in place just a few feet behind Kyle, with his words cutting through her to the bone. Is that all she was? Max’s reject? Is that what they all thought of her? Her eyes filled with sudden tears, but she wasn’t going to let them see her cry. She turned swiftly and pushed her way through the crowd to the exit doors.
Zan smiled a cold and heartless smile. “Finish it,” he ordered and stepped out of the shadows, following Tess outside.
“What the fuck?” Kyle looked at his hands, his drink, the guy beside him. Max’s reject? Where the fuck had that thought come from? Had he actually said it out loud?
In the shadows, Ava concentrated harder.
“What’d you say?” Todd asked.
“When?” Kyle scratched his head. Where did Michael go?
“What were we talking about?” Todd looked as confused as Kyle.
“You got any rum?”
* * * * *
Tess pushed through the doors to the outside with her hands fisted at her sides. Her blue eyes swam with unshed tears. Her chin trembled as she blindly stumbled along the side of the building. Kyle’s words still rang in her ears.
“Why would I want Tess Harding? I don’t want Max Evans’s rejects.”
Is that all she was? A reject? Max didn’t want her. Kyle didn’t either. Isabel barely tolerated her, and Michael probably would have killed her already if they didn’t think they needed her.
“The hell with them!” Tess wiped her hand across her wet cheek. “The hell with all of them!”
Ed Harding had been right. Human emotions were bad. They only made you hurt, and left you crying like a pathetic weakling. She was stronger without them.
A dark figure loomed in the doorway of one of the emergency exits, hidden by the shadows. The orange ember of a cigarette glowed brightly for a moment, then lowered to waist level. Tess stepped away from the building, intending to skirt around the menacing figure, but stopped dead in her tracks when he spoke.
“Leaving early?”
Tess squinted into the shadows. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew his voice.
“Max? Is that you?”
Since when did Max smoke?
“The party’s just getting started.” His voice came out rough. A little scratchy. But there was no doubt who it was.
“Max?” Tess took a step closer. “What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for you.”
Tess stopped in her tracks again. Why was Max talking like that? And standing in the shadows like that? His voice sounded gruff, commanding, with a menacing tone she’d never heard in it before.
“Waiting for me?” Tess said hesitantly. Why would Max be out here waiting for her? And where was his precious little Liz Parker?
“Who else would I be waiting for?” He flicked his cigarette onto the dirt and ground it out with his boot.
Boot? But . . . Max wasn’t wearing boots tonight . . .
Tess held her breath as he moved in her direction, the pebbles on the ground crunching beneath his boots. The air was pregnant with anticipation waiting for his face to emerge out of the shadows. He walked like Max, and moved like Max, but with a confidence she’d never seen in Max. The air around him shimmered with barely contained energy.
His heavy boots came into view first when he stepped out of the shadows, then his leather clad legs. His hands hung loosely at his sides, his arms bare and bulging with masculine strength. The leather vest he wore covered his well defined chest, showing Tess just enough of his bronze skin to make her breath catch. She’d never seen Max dressed this way before.
He came to a stop with his face still hidden in the shadows.
“Who are you?” Tess whispered. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him.
“I’m who you’ve been waiting for,” Zan stepped into the light.
His long hair hung loosely around his rugged, yet virile face. His eyes burned into hers, at once familiar, yet strangely alien at the same time. He came to a stop directly in front of her, staring down into her crystal blue eyes.
Tess stood mesmerized, unable to move, spellbound by his presence. She felt his hand graze up her arm, then along her shoulder, stopping only when he reached the back of her head. His hand curled into a fist, clutching the strands of her hair and pulling her head roughly backwards, while jerking her body tightly against his.
“You’re mine,” Zan growled with his lips almost brushing hers. “You were made to be with me.”
“No,” Tess whispered, frozen in place.
“Yes,” Zan pulled her hair harder, exerting his will. He kissed her hard, biting her lower lip in a show of dominance. She struggled to escape, but he wouldn’t let go. He was stronger, mentally and physically. It wasn’t long before she surrendered to his control. His eyes burned into hers when he released her mouth.
“We’re the same, you and me,” he breathed into her face. He could feel it in her, the familiar call that marked her as a member of his Unit. The connection had always been missing with Ava, but he could feel it strong in this one.
A footstep on the gravel behind him made Zan pause. His arm kept Tess pinned to him while his head turned slightly to acknowledge the new presence.
“What?” his voice growled.
Tess looked over his shoulder, startled at the sight before her. A mirror image of herself stood just a few feet away, looking hesitant and unsure.
“The human. Kyle. He’s looking for her,” Ava reported. “What do you want me to do?”
“Stay with them,” Zan ordered.
“You want . . .?” Ava stared at her duplicate.
“You know what to do,” Zan turned to face her. “Find out everything you can. Report back tomorrow.”
Ava watched in silence as Zan curled his hand around the other girl’s arm and led her across the parking lot to his stolen car. She felt a pang of sympathy for the girl, knowing what was in store for her, but her overwhelming sense of relief quickly pushed that feeling aside. Tonight, for the first night in years, she was on her own, out from under Zan’s thumb. She would savor every second of her freedom while it lasted.
* * * * *
“We should probably go back inside,” Liz suggested, a little breathless from his kisses. “Michael freaks out when he can’t keep us all in sight.”
“Right now he can’t keep his eyes off Maria,” Max nuzzled behind her ear making her shiver. His arm around her waist kept their bodies pressed together. The wall he leaned Liz against couldn’t hold back the sound of the music, but it was thick enough to dull the noise. Not that Max needed to hear anything. He had no intention of talking.
“Do you think he’s caving?” Liz smiled at the thought of Maria breaking through Michael’s tough exterior.
“Hmmm.” Max wasn’t really interested in Michael’s love life. He was too focused on his own.
“Tess?”
“Tess?” Max lifted his head from Liz’s throat. That name put a damper on things.
“Is that Tess over there?” Liz focused on something beyond Max’s shoulder. He turned around to look and saw her too, over by the parking lot. Liz took his hand and pulled him in that direction.
Ava stared out over the cars. It would be so easy to pick one, to use her powers to open the lock, to start the engine and go in any direction she wanted. She’d thought about it a thousand times, of just driving into the sunset and never looking back. But Zan never would have let her go, and there would have been hell to pay when he found her and brought her back. And Ava had no doubt that he would have found her.
Except now, maybe things were different. He had the other. Tess. He didn’t need her anymore. Maybe when this mission was over, she could just disappear. Maybe Zan wouldn’t even notice she was gone.
Maybe she should just leave now, while Zan was occupied.
* * * * *
Zan’s hand glowed against the doorknob, sealing them inside the motel room. No one would be entering or leaving this room without his permission.
He walked around the girl, looking her up and down, smelling her hair, comparing her scent to Ava’s. The dominant scent she was sending out was fear, nearly identical to her counterpart, but there was something else there as well. Something underneath the surface that called to him. If she hadn’t been corrupted, she might have been his equal. Perhaps he could remove the taint of humans from her.
“Who are you?” Tess tried to keep the tremble out of her voice.
Zan raked his eyes slowly up her body, each curve and swell familiar, yet different too. Her face was nearly identical to Ava’s, only softer, younger, not as mature. Her pale blue eyes widened in shock at his next words.
“I’m your Destiny.”
* * * * *
“Tess?”
When the blonde didn’t react to the sound of her name, Liz looked at Max with concern briefly clouding her face. He shrugged and they quickened their pace, coming up behind the unmoving girl.
“Tess?” Liz said her name again. “What are you doing out here?”
Ava startled, drawing in a gasp at their sudden appearance. Or maybe it wasn’t so sudden, she’d been so lost in her thoughts she just hadn’t heard them. Now that she was face to face with them, she didn’t know what to say, or do.
She stared at the boy named Max. His eyes were exactly like Zan’s, in color and shape and size, except . . . Max’s eyes were warm. His face looked smoother, too. Softer and unspoiled. The life Max lived hadn’t destroyed him yet, the way it had ruined Zan.
Ava looked at the girl next, and what she saw left her nearly speechless. The look on Liz Parker’s face was so . . . welcoming. So open and friendly. And when the human girl touched her arm, the sensation that flashed through her was like nothing Ava had ever felt before, a sense of belonging that she couldn’t even recognize.
“Tess?” Liz spoke her name softly. “Are you okay?”
Ava cleared her throat and said, “I just . . . wanted some fresh air.”
“Us too,” Liz smiled up at Max and they exchanged an intimate look. Ava watched it, mesmerized by it, certain that she’d never seen anything like it before. She had no name for it, no point of reference. She’d never seen anyone look that way before.
“We should go back inside,” Max threaded his fingers between Liz’s, lacing their hands together. He looked into Tess’s face, and for the first time he didn’t feel the strain her presence usually caused. Something felt different about her now, like she was finally one of them. Almost like family.
Liz held her free hand out to Ava, offering something the alien girl had never had before. She hesitated before returning the gesture, half expecting the contact to be painful, what physical contact usually caused her, but when their hands touched her senses were flooded with something else.
Kindness. Companionship. Camaraderie.
Security. Safety. Salvation.
Ava felt the hand tighten around hers, warm and comforting. The three turned back toward the lights of the Saturn Club, hands clasped together, with Liz at the center, their circle now complete.
* * * * *
“Let go of me!”
Tess tried to pull her arm away from Zan but his grip held her tightly. Painfully. She was actively trying to defy him, and that wasn’t allowed. She might as well learn that now.
Zan jerked Tess forward, speaking into her ear in a voice both threatening and alluring. “I’m what you’ve always wanted.”
“No,” she whimpered.
“Yes,” Zan overrode her. “You’ve waited your whole life to find me, and now you have. How does it feel?”
“It wasn’t you. It was Max –”
“It was never Max.”
“I don’t want this,” Tess tried to hide the quiver in her voice. “I don’t want you!” She’d never been more frightened in her life.
“Max didn’t want you either,” Zan moved in close, obscenely licking her ear. “But that didn’t stop you, now did it?” his breath burned her cheek. “You still wanted him. You still forced yourself on him.”
No. This couldn’t be happening. She closed her eyes trying to shut everything out. His hand slammed into her chest, grabbing her by the shirt, lifting her off her feet. He threw her on the bed like a rag doll and came after her.
“Time to meet your Destiny.”
* * * * *
“Well if you told me you were drowning
I would not lend a hand.”
Michael stood near the stage, listening to the haunting sound of Maria’s voice drifting out over the crowd.
“I’ve seen your face before my friend
But I don’t know if you know who I am.”
The lights were low and the dance floor full as the final song played for the night.
Max and Liz moved slowly to the familiar melody, wrapped in each others arms. They both remembered another night when Maria sang this song, a night that didn’t have a happy ending. For them, this night was going to be better.
“Well, I was there and I saw what you did
I saw it with my own two eyes.”
Ava stood stiffly on the dance floor with Kyle’s arm around her. She didn’t know how to dance, she’d never done it before, it wasn’t something Zan would ever do. Kyle seemed a little awkward too, but the smile he gave her looked genuine. She smiled back, playing her part, what Zan had ordered her to do.
“So you can wipe off that grin
I know where you’ve been
It’s all been a pack of lies.”
For four humans and their alien friends, the night was coming to an enjoyable end.
“I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord
I’ve been waiting for this moment for all my life, Oh Lord.”
In a motel room in Roswell, New Mexico, Tess Harding was getting exactly what she’d been wanting, and waiting her whole life for. Only the wanting was proving sweeter than the having.
When Destiny came calling, there was no one near to hear her scream.
TBC . . .
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Author Note: Sine the mythology of this story is different than the show, I should probably keep this posted at the beginning of each chapter. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
From Sexual Healing:
“What are you doing here, Max?”
“Well, I have orders from my planet. To take over the Earth.”
Aftermath
Part 37
Zan heard the primal sound of the music as soon as he cut the engine of the stolen Camero he’d jacked back in Roswell. The ride wasn’t as exciting as the feel of the Harley between his legs, but he wanted to blend in tonight, not attract attention, and the Harley was far from quiet. Ava climbed out of the car and stood silently beside it, waiting to follow Zan’s lead. Lonnie and Rath climbed out of the back.
“What da ya want us ta do?” Rath rubbed his hand along his chin. There was a shitload of girls here. He could have himself some fun.
“I told you to take care of your hair,” Zan glared at Rath’s Mohawk. “This is New Mexico, not New York. I wanna blend in here, not stand out like a sore thumb.”
“I like this hair,” Rath grumbled and then regretted it when Zan’s glare turned deadly. “Okay. Okay.” He reluctantly threaded his hands through his hair, changing the strands into a shorter, spiky do. Just like his double.
Zan acknowledged the change with a grunt. Satisfied, he gave them their instructions. “Watch your doubles. Learn how they talk. How they walk. Their mannerisms. Their body language. But stay in the shadows. Don’t let ‘em see you.”
“What about me?” Ava asked in a small voice. She was the only one dressed to match her double. She could only imagine what that meant.
Zan swept his eyes over her petite body. “I’ve got plans for you.”
* * * * *
The dark interior of the club vibrated with activity, music blaring from speakers on the stage, colored lights strobing over the mass of moving bodies on the dance floor.
Michael stood by the bar with one hand in his pocket, the other holding a plastic cup full of Coke. Crowds made him nervous, especially now. His gaze swept over the room, constantly monitoring the others. Max and Liz on the dance floor. Isabel in front of the stage. Maria and Alex on it. Kyle and Tess sitting together at a table. Good. Everyone was accounted for.
Maria stood center stage with her rich vocals flowing from the speakers. Alex confidently played bass guitar beside her, watching a fantasy play out in real time. He’d had a dream once, of Isabel standing in front of the stage, watching him play, urging him on. She wasn’t twirling her bra around her head like she had in the dream, but she was swaying to the music and smiling up at him, and that was close enough. He couldn’t stop grinning.
Kyle fidgeted at the table beside Tess. How did you make small talk with an alien? He flashed her a nervous smile and said, “So . . .”
Tess squirmed beside him, trying to think of something to say. “Nice party.”
“Yeah,” Kyle agreed, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with anything better to say. “Hey,” he scooted back his chair and pointed toward the bar. “Do you want anything?”
Tess thought over her options for a moment before deciding. She’d learned her lesson the hard way about saying ‘Whatever you’re having’.
“Do you think they have lemonade?”
“I’ll go see,” Kyle rose to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”
On the dance floor Max leaned close to Liz’s ear so she could hear him over the music. “Is this ‘Love Hurts’?”
“Love Kills,” Liz corrected him.
Colored lights flashed over their skin, highlighting their faces in shades of blue and red and green. Bodies bumped into them as dancers undulated around them. A hand brushed against the small of her back, almost a caress, sending a shiver down her spine, but when she looked behind her there was nothing there. Just dancers moving to the music.
“Liz?”
“What?” she whipped her head back toward Max.
He leaned closer, feeling the bass guitar rumbling through his chest. “I said, how can you tell the difference?”
“Between the songs? Years of listening to Alex play,” Liz laughed and snuggled closer. He smelled so good. His hand slid up and down her back, making her shiver again, this time a good kind of shiver.
Zan moved through the dancers like a shadow, returning to a dim corner of the room where he could watch her. He shouldn’t have touched her, not with his duplicate so close, but he couldn’t help the rising need. The primal pull was too strong.
The memory of this morning still burned sharply in his mind. Watching her through the window. Her face peaceful in sleep. Her voice sighing from sweet dreams. Sighing a name. Sighing his name. Max. He could have completed his mission right then and there; the window was no barrier to him. It couldn’t keep him out.
He should have followed his directive . . . but . . . her skin felt so soft. Hair like silk. Skin like satin. Her peaceful face . . .
He watched her as she slept, moonlight caressing her skin, the desert breeze lifting strands of her dark hair and blowing it across her face. His fingers brushed it away. He settled in beside her, draping his arm around her. The orb lay on a corner of the blanket just a few feet away –
Zan shook off the memory of the dream, fighting against the emotion it engendered. He let his primal urges take over, the familiar thrumming inside that called to him. He would have to take her soon. Not to kill her. Not yet. There was too much he still wanted to learn about her. He had to be patient, and wait. And he had to deal with the other one first.
“I wonder how the music sounds from outside?” Max nuzzled against Liz’s ear.
“When did you turn into such a horn dog?” Liz giggled. His breath tickled.
“I’ve always been this way,” he chuckled. “I just kept it hidden. C’mon. Let’s go.” He tried to pull her from the dance floor, but she stopped him.
“Wait,” Liz pulled on his hand. “They’re playing Addicted to Love next.”
No sooner had Love Kills ended, than Addicted to Love began. Max looked from the band back to Liz and cocked his head.
“How’d you know they were gonna play that next?”
“I know their playlist?” Liz suggested. The truth was, she didn’t know how she knew it. A sense of uneasiness stabbed through her, but then Max folded his arms around her and they let the music sweep them away again.
Kyle made his way to the refreshment bar lamenting the fact he forgot his flask at home. A little rum would have gone nicely with his Coke right about now. But then again, maybe it was good that he didn’t bring it. Just a sip had knocked him on his ass last time, and he wasn’t anxious to have that happen again.
Zan watched the human approach the bar with a keen eye. It was almost time to put the first phase of his plan into action. “Get ready . . .”
Ava tensed beside him.
“Fuck,” Zan hissed when the human stopped to talk to Rath’s duplicate.
“Hey, man,” Kyle walked up beside Michael.
“How’s it going?” Michael replied.
Kyle shrugged and looked toward the stage. “Maria’s sounding pretty good. Looking good, too.”
“Yeah,” Michael nodded, enjoying the view. “Tess ain’t looking bad herself.”
Kyle glanced behind him, looking at her small figure at the table. “She’s hot. Maybe . . .”
“Maybe what?” Michael asked when Kyle didn’t finish.
“Maybe I better get my ass back there,” Kyle headed for the bar to get their drinks. Michael smirked, wondering if Kyle’s sudden attention had anything to do with the fact that Paul Harris was currently asking Tess to dance.
At the table Tess was growing more uncomfortable by the second with Paul’s attentions. He wasn’t interested in her. He just wanted to jump her bones, just like all the other boys.
“C’mon, honey,” Paul used his best come on voice. “The music’s just waitin’ for us.”
“No thanks,” Tess told him again.
In the shadows Zan watched it all. Ava stood beside him waiting for his instructions.
“Get ready . . .”
Ava concentrated on the boy at the bar. Kyle. It was easy to get into his mind. His thoughts were uncomplicated. He was attracted to her double. To Tess. That was about to change.
Michael took a sip of his Coke while Kyle paid for his drinks.
“Max and Alex are going to Las Cruces tomorrow.”
“For that book thing?” Kyle asked and took a bottled lemonade from the bartender.
“Yeah. Alex has some nerd cousin going to school there. Won’t have any problem getting them access to the super computer.”
“Nerds run in the family, huh?” Kyle laughed. “Must be tough.”
“Yeah?” Michael pointed toward the stage. “Well look which chick the nerd’s got.”
“You’ve got a point,” Kyle smirked at the way Isabel was bopping around in front of the stage like a groupie.
Michael shifted his gaze to Maria, just as a male jock, in similar groupie mode positioned himself directly in front of her. His ire rose when he saw her give the guy a flirty wink.
“Later,” Michael grumbled. Kyle’s smile deepened, watching him make a beeline for the stage. Michael’s stone wall was crumbling.
Tess rose from the table to escape Paul Harris’s advances. She headed straight for Kyle just as Todd Warrick joined him at the bar.
“Now,” Zan instructed. It was all playing out just the way he wanted it to.
Ava closed her eyes.
“Hey, Kyle,” Todd nodded a greeting.
“Hey Todd,” Kyle grinned.
“Did I see you sitting over there with Tess Harding?”
“Yeah,” Kyle’s grin widened.
“So how is she?” Todd leered the way only teenage boys could. “Hot stuff?”
“How would I know?” Kyle frowned at his insinuation.
“Aren’t ya nailing her?” Todd elbowed him.
“Why would I want Tess Harding?” Kyle’s voice rose loud enough to hear in a twenty foot radius. “I don’t want Max Evans’s rejects.”
Tess froze in place just a few feet behind Kyle, with his words cutting through her to the bone. Is that all she was? Max’s reject? Is that what they all thought of her? Her eyes filled with sudden tears, but she wasn’t going to let them see her cry. She turned swiftly and pushed her way through the crowd to the exit doors.
Zan smiled a cold and heartless smile. “Finish it,” he ordered and stepped out of the shadows, following Tess outside.
“What the fuck?” Kyle looked at his hands, his drink, the guy beside him. Max’s reject? Where the fuck had that thought come from? Had he actually said it out loud?
In the shadows, Ava concentrated harder.
“What’d you say?” Todd asked.
“When?” Kyle scratched his head. Where did Michael go?
“What were we talking about?” Todd looked as confused as Kyle.
“You got any rum?”
* * * * *
Tess pushed through the doors to the outside with her hands fisted at her sides. Her blue eyes swam with unshed tears. Her chin trembled as she blindly stumbled along the side of the building. Kyle’s words still rang in her ears.
“Why would I want Tess Harding? I don’t want Max Evans’s rejects.”
Is that all she was? A reject? Max didn’t want her. Kyle didn’t either. Isabel barely tolerated her, and Michael probably would have killed her already if they didn’t think they needed her.
“The hell with them!” Tess wiped her hand across her wet cheek. “The hell with all of them!”
Ed Harding had been right. Human emotions were bad. They only made you hurt, and left you crying like a pathetic weakling. She was stronger without them.
A dark figure loomed in the doorway of one of the emergency exits, hidden by the shadows. The orange ember of a cigarette glowed brightly for a moment, then lowered to waist level. Tess stepped away from the building, intending to skirt around the menacing figure, but stopped dead in her tracks when he spoke.
“Leaving early?”
Tess squinted into the shadows. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew his voice.
“Max? Is that you?”
Since when did Max smoke?
“The party’s just getting started.” His voice came out rough. A little scratchy. But there was no doubt who it was.
“Max?” Tess took a step closer. “What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for you.”
Tess stopped in her tracks again. Why was Max talking like that? And standing in the shadows like that? His voice sounded gruff, commanding, with a menacing tone she’d never heard in it before.
“Waiting for me?” Tess said hesitantly. Why would Max be out here waiting for her? And where was his precious little Liz Parker?
“Who else would I be waiting for?” He flicked his cigarette onto the dirt and ground it out with his boot.
Boot? But . . . Max wasn’t wearing boots tonight . . .
Tess held her breath as he moved in her direction, the pebbles on the ground crunching beneath his boots. The air was pregnant with anticipation waiting for his face to emerge out of the shadows. He walked like Max, and moved like Max, but with a confidence she’d never seen in Max. The air around him shimmered with barely contained energy.
His heavy boots came into view first when he stepped out of the shadows, then his leather clad legs. His hands hung loosely at his sides, his arms bare and bulging with masculine strength. The leather vest he wore covered his well defined chest, showing Tess just enough of his bronze skin to make her breath catch. She’d never seen Max dressed this way before.
He came to a stop with his face still hidden in the shadows.
“Who are you?” Tess whispered. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him.
“I’m who you’ve been waiting for,” Zan stepped into the light.
His long hair hung loosely around his rugged, yet virile face. His eyes burned into hers, at once familiar, yet strangely alien at the same time. He came to a stop directly in front of her, staring down into her crystal blue eyes.
Tess stood mesmerized, unable to move, spellbound by his presence. She felt his hand graze up her arm, then along her shoulder, stopping only when he reached the back of her head. His hand curled into a fist, clutching the strands of her hair and pulling her head roughly backwards, while jerking her body tightly against his.
“You’re mine,” Zan growled with his lips almost brushing hers. “You were made to be with me.”
“No,” Tess whispered, frozen in place.
“Yes,” Zan pulled her hair harder, exerting his will. He kissed her hard, biting her lower lip in a show of dominance. She struggled to escape, but he wouldn’t let go. He was stronger, mentally and physically. It wasn’t long before she surrendered to his control. His eyes burned into hers when he released her mouth.
“We’re the same, you and me,” he breathed into her face. He could feel it in her, the familiar call that marked her as a member of his Unit. The connection had always been missing with Ava, but he could feel it strong in this one.
A footstep on the gravel behind him made Zan pause. His arm kept Tess pinned to him while his head turned slightly to acknowledge the new presence.
“What?” his voice growled.
Tess looked over his shoulder, startled at the sight before her. A mirror image of herself stood just a few feet away, looking hesitant and unsure.
“The human. Kyle. He’s looking for her,” Ava reported. “What do you want me to do?”
“Stay with them,” Zan ordered.
“You want . . .?” Ava stared at her duplicate.
“You know what to do,” Zan turned to face her. “Find out everything you can. Report back tomorrow.”
Ava watched in silence as Zan curled his hand around the other girl’s arm and led her across the parking lot to his stolen car. She felt a pang of sympathy for the girl, knowing what was in store for her, but her overwhelming sense of relief quickly pushed that feeling aside. Tonight, for the first night in years, she was on her own, out from under Zan’s thumb. She would savor every second of her freedom while it lasted.
* * * * *
“We should probably go back inside,” Liz suggested, a little breathless from his kisses. “Michael freaks out when he can’t keep us all in sight.”
“Right now he can’t keep his eyes off Maria,” Max nuzzled behind her ear making her shiver. His arm around her waist kept their bodies pressed together. The wall he leaned Liz against couldn’t hold back the sound of the music, but it was thick enough to dull the noise. Not that Max needed to hear anything. He had no intention of talking.
“Do you think he’s caving?” Liz smiled at the thought of Maria breaking through Michael’s tough exterior.
“Hmmm.” Max wasn’t really interested in Michael’s love life. He was too focused on his own.
“Tess?”
“Tess?” Max lifted his head from Liz’s throat. That name put a damper on things.
“Is that Tess over there?” Liz focused on something beyond Max’s shoulder. He turned around to look and saw her too, over by the parking lot. Liz took his hand and pulled him in that direction.
Ava stared out over the cars. It would be so easy to pick one, to use her powers to open the lock, to start the engine and go in any direction she wanted. She’d thought about it a thousand times, of just driving into the sunset and never looking back. But Zan never would have let her go, and there would have been hell to pay when he found her and brought her back. And Ava had no doubt that he would have found her.
Except now, maybe things were different. He had the other. Tess. He didn’t need her anymore. Maybe when this mission was over, she could just disappear. Maybe Zan wouldn’t even notice she was gone.
Maybe she should just leave now, while Zan was occupied.
* * * * *
Zan’s hand glowed against the doorknob, sealing them inside the motel room. No one would be entering or leaving this room without his permission.
He walked around the girl, looking her up and down, smelling her hair, comparing her scent to Ava’s. The dominant scent she was sending out was fear, nearly identical to her counterpart, but there was something else there as well. Something underneath the surface that called to him. If she hadn’t been corrupted, she might have been his equal. Perhaps he could remove the taint of humans from her.
“Who are you?” Tess tried to keep the tremble out of her voice.
Zan raked his eyes slowly up her body, each curve and swell familiar, yet different too. Her face was nearly identical to Ava’s, only softer, younger, not as mature. Her pale blue eyes widened in shock at his next words.
“I’m your Destiny.”
* * * * *
“Tess?”
When the blonde didn’t react to the sound of her name, Liz looked at Max with concern briefly clouding her face. He shrugged and they quickened their pace, coming up behind the unmoving girl.
“Tess?” Liz said her name again. “What are you doing out here?”
Ava startled, drawing in a gasp at their sudden appearance. Or maybe it wasn’t so sudden, she’d been so lost in her thoughts she just hadn’t heard them. Now that she was face to face with them, she didn’t know what to say, or do.
She stared at the boy named Max. His eyes were exactly like Zan’s, in color and shape and size, except . . . Max’s eyes were warm. His face looked smoother, too. Softer and unspoiled. The life Max lived hadn’t destroyed him yet, the way it had ruined Zan.
Ava looked at the girl next, and what she saw left her nearly speechless. The look on Liz Parker’s face was so . . . welcoming. So open and friendly. And when the human girl touched her arm, the sensation that flashed through her was like nothing Ava had ever felt before, a sense of belonging that she couldn’t even recognize.
“Tess?” Liz spoke her name softly. “Are you okay?”
Ava cleared her throat and said, “I just . . . wanted some fresh air.”
“Us too,” Liz smiled up at Max and they exchanged an intimate look. Ava watched it, mesmerized by it, certain that she’d never seen anything like it before. She had no name for it, no point of reference. She’d never seen anyone look that way before.
“We should go back inside,” Max threaded his fingers between Liz’s, lacing their hands together. He looked into Tess’s face, and for the first time he didn’t feel the strain her presence usually caused. Something felt different about her now, like she was finally one of them. Almost like family.
Liz held her free hand out to Ava, offering something the alien girl had never had before. She hesitated before returning the gesture, half expecting the contact to be painful, what physical contact usually caused her, but when their hands touched her senses were flooded with something else.
Kindness. Companionship. Camaraderie.
Security. Safety. Salvation.
Ava felt the hand tighten around hers, warm and comforting. The three turned back toward the lights of the Saturn Club, hands clasped together, with Liz at the center, their circle now complete.
* * * * *
“Let go of me!”
Tess tried to pull her arm away from Zan but his grip held her tightly. Painfully. She was actively trying to defy him, and that wasn’t allowed. She might as well learn that now.
Zan jerked Tess forward, speaking into her ear in a voice both threatening and alluring. “I’m what you’ve always wanted.”
“No,” she whimpered.
“Yes,” Zan overrode her. “You’ve waited your whole life to find me, and now you have. How does it feel?”
“It wasn’t you. It was Max –”
“It was never Max.”
“I don’t want this,” Tess tried to hide the quiver in her voice. “I don’t want you!” She’d never been more frightened in her life.
“Max didn’t want you either,” Zan moved in close, obscenely licking her ear. “But that didn’t stop you, now did it?” his breath burned her cheek. “You still wanted him. You still forced yourself on him.”
No. This couldn’t be happening. She closed her eyes trying to shut everything out. His hand slammed into her chest, grabbing her by the shirt, lifting her off her feet. He threw her on the bed like a rag doll and came after her.
“Time to meet your Destiny.”
* * * * *
“Well if you told me you were drowning
I would not lend a hand.”
Michael stood near the stage, listening to the haunting sound of Maria’s voice drifting out over the crowd.
“I’ve seen your face before my friend
But I don’t know if you know who I am.”
The lights were low and the dance floor full as the final song played for the night.
Max and Liz moved slowly to the familiar melody, wrapped in each others arms. They both remembered another night when Maria sang this song, a night that didn’t have a happy ending. For them, this night was going to be better.
“Well, I was there and I saw what you did
I saw it with my own two eyes.”
Ava stood stiffly on the dance floor with Kyle’s arm around her. She didn’t know how to dance, she’d never done it before, it wasn’t something Zan would ever do. Kyle seemed a little awkward too, but the smile he gave her looked genuine. She smiled back, playing her part, what Zan had ordered her to do.
“So you can wipe off that grin
I know where you’ve been
It’s all been a pack of lies.”
For four humans and their alien friends, the night was coming to an enjoyable end.
“I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord
I’ve been waiting for this moment for all my life, Oh Lord.”
In a motel room in Roswell, New Mexico, Tess Harding was getting exactly what she’d been wanting, and waiting her whole life for. Only the wanting was proving sweeter than the having.
When Destiny came calling, there was no one near to hear her scream.
TBC . . .
-
Breathless
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 254
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- Location: Somewhere in ficland
Aftermath Part 38
Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Author Note: Since the mythology of this story is different than the show, I should probably keep this posted at the beginning of each chapter. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
From Sexual Healing:
“What are you doing here, Max?”
“Well, I have orders from my planet. To take over the Earth.”
Aftermath
Part 38
Sunday dawned in the city of Roswell, New Mexico, just like the Sunday before it, and the Sunday before that. No one inside the city limits knew of the cosmic battle that was about to take place, the predestined struggle between good and evil the Granilith had foretold. The citizens of Earth went about their daily business blissfully unaware.
“Hold still!”
“Just stick it in there!”
“Do you want us to hold her down for you?”
“Oh stop!” Liz snorted a laugh and batted Maria’s hands away. She picked up the alien headband again and combed it into the blonde curls. She looked at it closely, checking the placement, and then smiled at ‘Tess’ in the bedroom mirror. “Perfect!”
Ava looked at her reflection, feeling both embarrassed and pleased. The other girls were smiling at her, Liz and Maria and Isabel, and for the first time in her life Ava didn’t feel alone. It might all be based on a lie, and it was bound to all come crashing down around her, but for the first time in her life Ava thought she was actually . . . happy.
“Stand up,” Liz tugged on the blonde’s hand. “Let’s see what you look like.”
Ava rose to her feet and stepped away from the chair. Three sets of eyes scrutinized her, making her blush.
“You’re a natural,” Liz complimented her, feeling a kinship for the girl that had never existed before. For the first time since Tess came to town, Liz didn’t feel threatened or on edge around her. She looked the blonde up and down and said, “You fill out that uniform much better than I do!”
“I’ve never heard Max complain about the way you fill out anything,” Maria teased Liz.
“Please!” Isabel shuddered. “No sex talk about my brother!”
Ava listened to the girls break out in a chorus of laughter. It warmed her inside, listening to their easy rapport, something she couldn’t ever remember feeling before. The world they lived in was nothing like what she had with Zan. These girls actually woke up every morning looking forward to the day.
Maria took an order pad out of her uniform pocket and gave it to ‘Tess’. She fished for a pencil and gave her that too.
“Now you’re all set!” Maria declared. “Let’s go feed the hungry masses!”
Isabel left the bedroom first, more than ready for someone to feed her breakfast. Ava followed her out of the bedroom, lifting her hand to feel the funny antennas bouncing on top of her head.
Maria moved to follow the two girls but Liz stopped her with a hand to her arm.
“Talk about a turnaround. Why are you being so nice to her?” Liz asked.
“To who?” Maria feigned ignorance. Liz cocked her head, making Maria fess up. “Okay, I was a little harsh before –”
“A little?” Liz arched an eyebrow.
“We all were,” Maria reminded her. “But . . . I don’t know . . . she just seems different now.” She linked her arm with Liz’s and they headed out of the bedroom. “Why did you hire her?”
“I don’t know,’ Liz shrugged. “We need a waitress, and Tess needs a job. And . . . it feels . . . right,” Liz finished with a smile.
* * * * *
Ava stuck close to Liz, watching the human as she took orders and served the customers their morning meals. She was catching on quickly, and Liz’s easy smile was making her relax.
Ava went about filling coffee cups and water glasses, remembering back to the night before, a night unlike any she’d ever experienced. She’d been on edge the whole drive back from Hondo, wondering and worrying if she might do or say anything that might give her away as an impostor, but the others had been relaxed, laughing and joking. Enjoying life.
On the way home the eight of them stopped at Haley’s Comet, piling out of two cars, filling up the ice cream parlor. She’d watched them closely, Max doting on Liz, Liz doting right back. Isabel sat near the tall boy, Alex, both of them watching each other, but too shy to do more than look. Michael watched over them all, with a special eye on Maria, indulging the performance high she’d been riding. That girl could talk a mile a minute, something Zan would never tolerate, but Max took it in stride, even appearing to enjoy it by the smile on his face. In comparison, when had Lonnie ever been shy? When had Zan ever doted on anyone? When had Rath ever been protective?
Why were they so different? Why were they so . . . human? Zan would want to know. Zan expected her to find the answers to these puzzling questions. How long was Zan going to let her stay, before he pulled her back into his nightmare world?
The chimes rang above the door and Ava looked up to see Max returning to the restaurant wearing a fresh change of clothes. Just the sight of him caused a reaction in her, but it was much different than the reaction his mirror image caused. Zan made her feel frightened, and scared, and alone, but the feelings that tugged at her when she was around Max and Liz and the others were entirely different. Like . . . finding home. Brothers. Sisters. Family.
Ava watched Max take a seat in his usual booth. Liz joined him there moments later to take his order.
Michael looked out the pass-through window into the crowded restaurant. His gaze swept the room, not even consciously aware he was counting. “Four . . . five . . . six . . .”
Only six. Where were the other two? The front doors chimed announcing the arrival of Kyle and Alex, and Michael let out a grunt of satisfaction. He turned around and went back to making breakfast for the hungry masses.
* * * * *
Zan strolled into the small kitchen area of the motel room with his jeans half way zipped, his short sleeve shirt loose and unbuttoned, yawning and rubbing his hand up and down the flat expanse of his taut stomach. He made his way directly toward the coffee pot and poured himself a cup.
“Morning,” Lonnie smirked, watching him stretch like a lion. It was a good thing Zan didn’t need much sleep. Judging from the earlier sounds coming from the bedroom, he’d been awake most of the night.
“Get dressed,” Zan ordered, eyeing Lonnie up and down. “You’re comin’ with me.”
Lonnie rose from the foldout couch and sauntered across the room. Rath licked his lips as she walked by, wiggling her ass in her hip hugger panties. When she opened the door to the bedroom, the muffled sounds of weeping filled the air.
“Whacha gonna do with her?” Rath gave a little jerk of his chin toward the bedroom.
Zan shrugged. “Fuck her.”
Rath snorted. “Besides that.”
Zan slipped his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Gotta break her in. It’ll take a little time. She’s tainted.”
“Like Ava?”
“Nah,” Zan sneered. “Tess is one of us. She’s just gone a little soft. Gotta harden her up.”
“Harden her up?” Rath grabbed his crotch and rubbed obscenely.
“Yeah,” Zan laughed. He finished zipping up and buttoned his shirt, ready to get the day started.
Lonnie came out of the bedroom wearing olive green low slung pants, combat boots, and a formfitting black sleeveless top, showing plenty of cleavage. Rath eyed her up and down with his hand still on his crotch.
“Watch her,” Zan hitched his thumb toward the bedroom as he and Lonnie cut across the motel room to the door.
“She a fighter?” Rath asked.
“Not anymore,” Zan laughed and slipped on his shades. He let Lonnie go out first, then closed the motel room door behind him.
* * * * *
“So that’s one Ryker Special,” Liz slid the breakfast plate in front of Max.
“Thank you,” he grinned up at her, catching her hand with his. Their eyes locked, and lingered. And lingered. And lingered.
“Um, hello?” Kyle waved his hand to get Liz’s attention. “Liz? Oh, Liiizzzz. Hungry humans here.” He exchanged an impish look with Alex who was sitting on his left, and then kicked Max under the table.
Max jumped, breaking them out of their love trance.
“Sorry,” Liz blushed and set Kyle’s plate in front of him.
Kyle picked up his fork grumbling, “No tip for you.”
Liz reached across the table to hand Alex his plate.
“Thank you,” he grinned widely, looking at the mouth watering omelet. He grabbed the plate from Liz, touching her hand in the process.
Liz’s vision suddenly darkened like day turning into night. The sights and sounds of the restaurant faded away, replaced by a nightmarish vision.
Darkness.
Mist in the night.
A long stretch of pavement.
Glass glittering in the moonlight.
The scream of metal rending.
Shadows in a mirror.
Blood, slowly dripping.
A tire . . . spinning . . . spinning . . . spinning . . .
“Liz!”
Liz came out of the vision feeling dizzy and disoriented. She sagged against Max who jumped from the booth and wrapped her in his arms to keep her from falling. She leaned into his chest, looking up into his panicked face.
“What happened?”
“You fainted,” Max eased her into the booth. He knelt next to her, brushing her hair back from her face, feeling the scrutiny of the other diners. They were the center of attention.
“What’s wrong?” Maria hovered at the end of the booth looking scared.
“Take her in the back,” Isabel stood behind Max, nervously twisting her necklace. Everyone was watching.
Michael burst though the backroom door, snatching the bandanna off his head.
Max helped Liz to her feet and walked, almost carried, her to the back, with Isabel and Maria right on his heels. Ava stood alone by the counter holding a coffee pot in one hand, covering her mouth with the other.
Kyle turned to look at Alex. “What was that all about?”
Alex absently rubbed at a tingling spot on his hand and shook his head. “I have no idea.”
In the backroom Max helped Liz to the couch and knelt down in front of her. His hands touched her face, her throat, checking the vibrations in her body, only partially relieved that everything felt normal.
“What happened out there?” Michael demanded.
Liz looked at all the worried faces crowding around her, Max crouching right in front of her, Michael, Isabel, and Maria standing behind him. Kyle and Alex joined the group, while Ava stayed back by the door, watching from a distance.
Liz’s gaze lingered on Alex before moving back to Max. “I got . . . dizzy.”
“Dizzy, huh? Gotta little hatchling in the oven?” Kyle inquired. Four sets of eyes focused on him making him throw up his hands for protection. “Hey, don’t look at me!”
Max dropped his gaze to Liz’s stomach, with the color draining out of his face. He lifted his hand and flexed his fingers nervously, then hesitantly reached out to touch her. Their eyes met, with Liz minutely shaking her head. She couldn’t be pregnant, could she?
Max closed his eyes and touched her stomach, then sagged in relief. The group let out a collective sigh. No hatchling in the oven.
“It happened again, didn’t it?” Maria raked a hand through her hair.
Max snapped his head around to look at Maria, then just as fast he turned back to Liz. “Is this what happened before? Did you . . . see something?”
“I don’t know what it was,” Liz answered in a small voice. “Everything turned dark. Like it was night. Outside. Glass and metal. Mirrors. I keep seeing mirrors.”
“This is the second time,” Maria shivered. She wrapped her arms around her chest but it didn’t help.
Liz bit at her lower lip and said, “Third. It’s happened three times.”
“Liz,” Max said her name harshly, anger and worry all rolling together.
“I’m sorry,” she cupped his face with her hand. “I should have told you.”
Max covered her hand with his. “Tell me now.”
He slid onto the seat next to Liz and circled her shoulders with his arm. Whatever was happening, they would face it together.
“Yesterday, when I was getting ready in the morning, I got a . . . I don’t know what to call it. A vision? I saw these bright flashes, like when the sun hits a mirror. Leather. I remember seeing leather. And an engine. I heard an engine. I was on my balcony putting on my shoes, and I thought maybe it was because I stood up too fast and it made me dizzy.”
“So it just hit you? Like out of the blue?” Max fretted. Was she sick? Was something happening to her? Could he stop it before it harmed her?
Liz thought for a second. “It happened after . . . after I picked up a cigarette butt.”
“A what? On your balcony?” Max blurted out.
“Okay, who’s been smoking?” Maria asked accusingly.
Ava gasped and accidentally knocked over a long handled broom. Her face blanched when everyone turned to look at her.
“I . . .” she pointed with her thumb toward the café. “No . . . no one’s out there. I think I’ll just . . . I’ll go . . . out there.” She pushed on the door to return to the restaurant.
“Shit!” Michael hurried to the kitchen. Smoke was billowing from the door. Breakfast was burning.
“You found a cigarette butt on your balcony?” Max asked.
“I’ve had some weird things land there before,” Liz brushed it off as nothing. “Birds like to nest up in the eaves of the roof. They drop things sometimes.”
“But that’s what you got the flash from?” Alex asked. “A cigarette butt?”
Liz nodded, with her gaze lingering on her friend. Something gnawed at her gut, but she didn’t know what. A whisper ill defined, without substance, impossible to analyze.
“And this time?” Max asked. “What triggered it this time?”
Liz shrugged almost apologetically. “Nothing. You were there. You saw everything. I was just serving you breakfast.”
Max processed what she told him and then stood up, slipping easily into leadership mode.
“Maria,” his hand settled on her shoulder. “Cover for Liz. You too, Isabel. Help out in the restaurant. I’ll take Liz upstairs so she can rest. Alex, I’m gonna have to bail on the Las Cruces trip. I don’t want to leave Liz. Do you wanna wait, or go ahead without me?”
“I’ll go,” Alex answered without hesitating. “Brian’s expecting me.”
“Good,” Max nodded. “Okay. That’s settled then.”
Maria and Isabel moved off to return to the restaurant. Max turned to help Liz to her feet.
Kyle looked at Max and asked, “What about me?”
“Go. . .” Max looked down at the shorter boy and struggled for a moment, then came to a decision. “Go finish your breakfast.”
“Breakfast,” Kyle drawled. “Riiight.” He swiveled on his heels and followed the girls.
Max led Liz toward the stairs but she stopped before she reached the first step. She turned to look at Alex who was holding open the door for the others. He grinned at Maria and Isabel as they passed by him, then teasingly punched Kyle on the arm for something he said.
Liz left Max standing by the stairs and walked across the floor to Alex. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his chest.
Alex arched his eyebrows in surprise and held his arms out awkwardly from his body. He glanced over at Max and said, “Ah, Liz? Your boyfriend’s watching.”
A sense of almost overwhelming sadness engulfed her. Her arms tightened around him as she spoke into his chest.
“Be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me. Good old careful Alex Whitman, here,” Alex folded his arms around her and walked her back to Max. He kissed her on the top of her head, like he’d done a hundred times before. “Get some rest, Liz. You look tired.”
He gave her a little fake jab to the chin and then turned to follow the others into the restaurant. Liz watched him go, feeling a cold chill stabbing right through her.
“Come on, Liz,” Max took her by the arm and gently coaxed her up the stairs.
Liz watched the door swing closed, then let Max lead the way.
* * * * *
The two figures lounged in the front seat of the stolen Camero watching the front of the restaurant. Zan sat in the passenger seat blowing a smoke ring out the window. Lonnie sat behind the wheel beside him.
“Which one?” Lonnie tapped a blood red fingernail against the steering wheel.
“The geek,” Zan sucked a satisfying drag off his cigarette.
“Which one?” Lonnie arched an eyebrow, and they both snorted a derisive laugh.
“The tall lanky one,” Zan told her. “Alex.”
“Oh,” Lonnie nodded. “Geek central.”
“Yeah,” Zan smirked and then his attention refocused. He sat up and tossed his cigarette butt out the window.
Lonnie saw him too then, coming out of the restaurant door. Alex stood on the sidewalk making small talk with her counterpart, the girl they called Isabel. When the blonde turned and walked away, the boy turned in the opposite direction and rolled his eyes in obvious self-mockery.
“How cute,” Lonnie jeered, watching him climb into a nondescript sedan. “But no style points. Could that car be any more boring?”
“Follow him,” Zan ordered and reached for the door handle. He climbed from the car and slammed the door closed. He leaned down and looked in the open window, saying, “Find out what he’s doin’ with the book. Don’t make a move on him. Just watch him, and report his location.”
“Can’t I play with him a little?”
“You do and I’ll break your fuckin’ neck.”
“Fine!” Lonnie huffed. She started the car and Zan stepped back.
He watched the two cars drive down the road, the hunter and the hunted, smiling his inhuman smile. When they were out of sight he slipped his shades back on and crossed the street to the Crashdown.
* * * * *
Ava muscled the garbage bag out into the alley and over to the dumpster. She paused for a moment to wipe her brow and then lifted the metal lid, hefting it up and back.
“Need a little help, sweetcakes?” Zan came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and dragging her back against him.
“Zan,” she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She knew he wouldn’t leave her alone for long. His fullness pressed against her back, his hot breath on her throat made her shiver.
“Tell me what I wanna know.”
“Ain’t nothin’ ta tell yet.”
“What’s this?” he turned her around and plucked at the collar of her uniform.
Ava kept her face down. “I’m jus’ playin’ the part, like you wanted me to.”
“The boy. Alex. He’s got the book. Where’s he goin’?”
He knew about that? How’d he know about that? She shuddered, realizing who must have told him, and how he must have enjoyed getting the information out of her. “There ain’t been enough time for me ta find out anythin’ yet.”
“Is that right?” he pinched her chin and jerked her face upwards.
“I’m tryin’ ta feel everythin’ out,” she fought to keep her voice steady. She placed her hand on his crotch to refocus his attention.
“Feel everythin’ out, huh?” his lips curved in a sensual smile. His hand covered hers, crushing her hard against him before jerking her hand away. “Where is she?”
“Where’s who?”
“You know who. She’s not in the restaurant.” The harsh tone of his voice demanded an answer.
“She’s upstairs. In her room,” Ava told him what he wanted to know. It wouldn’t do any good to try to keep it from him.
Zan moved toward the ladder with long purposeful strides. Ava had to run to catch him. She grabbed him by the arm as he reached for the first rung.
“You can’t go up there! She ain’t alone.”
Zan’s eyes narrowed and he sniffed at the air. He could smell her up there, but Ava was right. He couldn’t have her if she wasn’t alone. Not the way he wanted her. He dropped his hand from the ladder and stepped away. He had other things he could do for now.
“I’ll be at the motel if ya find out anything,” he said, leaving Ava standing in the alley, watching him go.
TBC . . .
Author note: I’m going out of town for a week and doubt I’ll get any writing done. Consequently, the next update will probably be in 2 weeks. See ya then!
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
Author Note: Since the mythology of this story is different than the show, I should probably keep this posted at the beginning of each chapter. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
From Sexual Healing:
“What are you doing here, Max?”
“Well, I have orders from my planet. To take over the Earth.”
Aftermath
Part 38
Sunday dawned in the city of Roswell, New Mexico, just like the Sunday before it, and the Sunday before that. No one inside the city limits knew of the cosmic battle that was about to take place, the predestined struggle between good and evil the Granilith had foretold. The citizens of Earth went about their daily business blissfully unaware.
“Hold still!”
“Just stick it in there!”
“Do you want us to hold her down for you?”
“Oh stop!” Liz snorted a laugh and batted Maria’s hands away. She picked up the alien headband again and combed it into the blonde curls. She looked at it closely, checking the placement, and then smiled at ‘Tess’ in the bedroom mirror. “Perfect!”
Ava looked at her reflection, feeling both embarrassed and pleased. The other girls were smiling at her, Liz and Maria and Isabel, and for the first time in her life Ava didn’t feel alone. It might all be based on a lie, and it was bound to all come crashing down around her, but for the first time in her life Ava thought she was actually . . . happy.
“Stand up,” Liz tugged on the blonde’s hand. “Let’s see what you look like.”
Ava rose to her feet and stepped away from the chair. Three sets of eyes scrutinized her, making her blush.
“You’re a natural,” Liz complimented her, feeling a kinship for the girl that had never existed before. For the first time since Tess came to town, Liz didn’t feel threatened or on edge around her. She looked the blonde up and down and said, “You fill out that uniform much better than I do!”
“I’ve never heard Max complain about the way you fill out anything,” Maria teased Liz.
“Please!” Isabel shuddered. “No sex talk about my brother!”
Ava listened to the girls break out in a chorus of laughter. It warmed her inside, listening to their easy rapport, something she couldn’t ever remember feeling before. The world they lived in was nothing like what she had with Zan. These girls actually woke up every morning looking forward to the day.
Maria took an order pad out of her uniform pocket and gave it to ‘Tess’. She fished for a pencil and gave her that too.
“Now you’re all set!” Maria declared. “Let’s go feed the hungry masses!”
Isabel left the bedroom first, more than ready for someone to feed her breakfast. Ava followed her out of the bedroom, lifting her hand to feel the funny antennas bouncing on top of her head.
Maria moved to follow the two girls but Liz stopped her with a hand to her arm.
“Talk about a turnaround. Why are you being so nice to her?” Liz asked.
“To who?” Maria feigned ignorance. Liz cocked her head, making Maria fess up. “Okay, I was a little harsh before –”
“A little?” Liz arched an eyebrow.
“We all were,” Maria reminded her. “But . . . I don’t know . . . she just seems different now.” She linked her arm with Liz’s and they headed out of the bedroom. “Why did you hire her?”
“I don’t know,’ Liz shrugged. “We need a waitress, and Tess needs a job. And . . . it feels . . . right,” Liz finished with a smile.
* * * * *
Ava stuck close to Liz, watching the human as she took orders and served the customers their morning meals. She was catching on quickly, and Liz’s easy smile was making her relax.
Ava went about filling coffee cups and water glasses, remembering back to the night before, a night unlike any she’d ever experienced. She’d been on edge the whole drive back from Hondo, wondering and worrying if she might do or say anything that might give her away as an impostor, but the others had been relaxed, laughing and joking. Enjoying life.
On the way home the eight of them stopped at Haley’s Comet, piling out of two cars, filling up the ice cream parlor. She’d watched them closely, Max doting on Liz, Liz doting right back. Isabel sat near the tall boy, Alex, both of them watching each other, but too shy to do more than look. Michael watched over them all, with a special eye on Maria, indulging the performance high she’d been riding. That girl could talk a mile a minute, something Zan would never tolerate, but Max took it in stride, even appearing to enjoy it by the smile on his face. In comparison, when had Lonnie ever been shy? When had Zan ever doted on anyone? When had Rath ever been protective?
Why were they so different? Why were they so . . . human? Zan would want to know. Zan expected her to find the answers to these puzzling questions. How long was Zan going to let her stay, before he pulled her back into his nightmare world?
The chimes rang above the door and Ava looked up to see Max returning to the restaurant wearing a fresh change of clothes. Just the sight of him caused a reaction in her, but it was much different than the reaction his mirror image caused. Zan made her feel frightened, and scared, and alone, but the feelings that tugged at her when she was around Max and Liz and the others were entirely different. Like . . . finding home. Brothers. Sisters. Family.
Ava watched Max take a seat in his usual booth. Liz joined him there moments later to take his order.
Michael looked out the pass-through window into the crowded restaurant. His gaze swept the room, not even consciously aware he was counting. “Four . . . five . . . six . . .”
Only six. Where were the other two? The front doors chimed announcing the arrival of Kyle and Alex, and Michael let out a grunt of satisfaction. He turned around and went back to making breakfast for the hungry masses.
* * * * *
Zan strolled into the small kitchen area of the motel room with his jeans half way zipped, his short sleeve shirt loose and unbuttoned, yawning and rubbing his hand up and down the flat expanse of his taut stomach. He made his way directly toward the coffee pot and poured himself a cup.
“Morning,” Lonnie smirked, watching him stretch like a lion. It was a good thing Zan didn’t need much sleep. Judging from the earlier sounds coming from the bedroom, he’d been awake most of the night.
“Get dressed,” Zan ordered, eyeing Lonnie up and down. “You’re comin’ with me.”
Lonnie rose from the foldout couch and sauntered across the room. Rath licked his lips as she walked by, wiggling her ass in her hip hugger panties. When she opened the door to the bedroom, the muffled sounds of weeping filled the air.
“Whacha gonna do with her?” Rath gave a little jerk of his chin toward the bedroom.
Zan shrugged. “Fuck her.”
Rath snorted. “Besides that.”
Zan slipped his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Gotta break her in. It’ll take a little time. She’s tainted.”
“Like Ava?”
“Nah,” Zan sneered. “Tess is one of us. She’s just gone a little soft. Gotta harden her up.”
“Harden her up?” Rath grabbed his crotch and rubbed obscenely.
“Yeah,” Zan laughed. He finished zipping up and buttoned his shirt, ready to get the day started.
Lonnie came out of the bedroom wearing olive green low slung pants, combat boots, and a formfitting black sleeveless top, showing plenty of cleavage. Rath eyed her up and down with his hand still on his crotch.
“Watch her,” Zan hitched his thumb toward the bedroom as he and Lonnie cut across the motel room to the door.
“She a fighter?” Rath asked.
“Not anymore,” Zan laughed and slipped on his shades. He let Lonnie go out first, then closed the motel room door behind him.
* * * * *
“So that’s one Ryker Special,” Liz slid the breakfast plate in front of Max.
“Thank you,” he grinned up at her, catching her hand with his. Their eyes locked, and lingered. And lingered. And lingered.
“Um, hello?” Kyle waved his hand to get Liz’s attention. “Liz? Oh, Liiizzzz. Hungry humans here.” He exchanged an impish look with Alex who was sitting on his left, and then kicked Max under the table.
Max jumped, breaking them out of their love trance.
“Sorry,” Liz blushed and set Kyle’s plate in front of him.
Kyle picked up his fork grumbling, “No tip for you.”
Liz reached across the table to hand Alex his plate.
“Thank you,” he grinned widely, looking at the mouth watering omelet. He grabbed the plate from Liz, touching her hand in the process.
Liz’s vision suddenly darkened like day turning into night. The sights and sounds of the restaurant faded away, replaced by a nightmarish vision.
Darkness.
Mist in the night.
A long stretch of pavement.
Glass glittering in the moonlight.
The scream of metal rending.
Shadows in a mirror.
Blood, slowly dripping.
A tire . . . spinning . . . spinning . . . spinning . . .
“Liz!”
Liz came out of the vision feeling dizzy and disoriented. She sagged against Max who jumped from the booth and wrapped her in his arms to keep her from falling. She leaned into his chest, looking up into his panicked face.
“What happened?”
“You fainted,” Max eased her into the booth. He knelt next to her, brushing her hair back from her face, feeling the scrutiny of the other diners. They were the center of attention.
“What’s wrong?” Maria hovered at the end of the booth looking scared.
“Take her in the back,” Isabel stood behind Max, nervously twisting her necklace. Everyone was watching.
Michael burst though the backroom door, snatching the bandanna off his head.
Max helped Liz to her feet and walked, almost carried, her to the back, with Isabel and Maria right on his heels. Ava stood alone by the counter holding a coffee pot in one hand, covering her mouth with the other.
Kyle turned to look at Alex. “What was that all about?”
Alex absently rubbed at a tingling spot on his hand and shook his head. “I have no idea.”
In the backroom Max helped Liz to the couch and knelt down in front of her. His hands touched her face, her throat, checking the vibrations in her body, only partially relieved that everything felt normal.
“What happened out there?” Michael demanded.
Liz looked at all the worried faces crowding around her, Max crouching right in front of her, Michael, Isabel, and Maria standing behind him. Kyle and Alex joined the group, while Ava stayed back by the door, watching from a distance.
Liz’s gaze lingered on Alex before moving back to Max. “I got . . . dizzy.”
“Dizzy, huh? Gotta little hatchling in the oven?” Kyle inquired. Four sets of eyes focused on him making him throw up his hands for protection. “Hey, don’t look at me!”
Max dropped his gaze to Liz’s stomach, with the color draining out of his face. He lifted his hand and flexed his fingers nervously, then hesitantly reached out to touch her. Their eyes met, with Liz minutely shaking her head. She couldn’t be pregnant, could she?
Max closed his eyes and touched her stomach, then sagged in relief. The group let out a collective sigh. No hatchling in the oven.
“It happened again, didn’t it?” Maria raked a hand through her hair.
Max snapped his head around to look at Maria, then just as fast he turned back to Liz. “Is this what happened before? Did you . . . see something?”
“I don’t know what it was,” Liz answered in a small voice. “Everything turned dark. Like it was night. Outside. Glass and metal. Mirrors. I keep seeing mirrors.”
“This is the second time,” Maria shivered. She wrapped her arms around her chest but it didn’t help.
Liz bit at her lower lip and said, “Third. It’s happened three times.”
“Liz,” Max said her name harshly, anger and worry all rolling together.
“I’m sorry,” she cupped his face with her hand. “I should have told you.”
Max covered her hand with his. “Tell me now.”
He slid onto the seat next to Liz and circled her shoulders with his arm. Whatever was happening, they would face it together.
“Yesterday, when I was getting ready in the morning, I got a . . . I don’t know what to call it. A vision? I saw these bright flashes, like when the sun hits a mirror. Leather. I remember seeing leather. And an engine. I heard an engine. I was on my balcony putting on my shoes, and I thought maybe it was because I stood up too fast and it made me dizzy.”
“So it just hit you? Like out of the blue?” Max fretted. Was she sick? Was something happening to her? Could he stop it before it harmed her?
Liz thought for a second. “It happened after . . . after I picked up a cigarette butt.”
“A what? On your balcony?” Max blurted out.
“Okay, who’s been smoking?” Maria asked accusingly.
Ava gasped and accidentally knocked over a long handled broom. Her face blanched when everyone turned to look at her.
“I . . .” she pointed with her thumb toward the café. “No . . . no one’s out there. I think I’ll just . . . I’ll go . . . out there.” She pushed on the door to return to the restaurant.
“Shit!” Michael hurried to the kitchen. Smoke was billowing from the door. Breakfast was burning.
“You found a cigarette butt on your balcony?” Max asked.
“I’ve had some weird things land there before,” Liz brushed it off as nothing. “Birds like to nest up in the eaves of the roof. They drop things sometimes.”
“But that’s what you got the flash from?” Alex asked. “A cigarette butt?”
Liz nodded, with her gaze lingering on her friend. Something gnawed at her gut, but she didn’t know what. A whisper ill defined, without substance, impossible to analyze.
“And this time?” Max asked. “What triggered it this time?”
Liz shrugged almost apologetically. “Nothing. You were there. You saw everything. I was just serving you breakfast.”
Max processed what she told him and then stood up, slipping easily into leadership mode.
“Maria,” his hand settled on her shoulder. “Cover for Liz. You too, Isabel. Help out in the restaurant. I’ll take Liz upstairs so she can rest. Alex, I’m gonna have to bail on the Las Cruces trip. I don’t want to leave Liz. Do you wanna wait, or go ahead without me?”
“I’ll go,” Alex answered without hesitating. “Brian’s expecting me.”
“Good,” Max nodded. “Okay. That’s settled then.”
Maria and Isabel moved off to return to the restaurant. Max turned to help Liz to her feet.
Kyle looked at Max and asked, “What about me?”
“Go. . .” Max looked down at the shorter boy and struggled for a moment, then came to a decision. “Go finish your breakfast.”
“Breakfast,” Kyle drawled. “Riiight.” He swiveled on his heels and followed the girls.
Max led Liz toward the stairs but she stopped before she reached the first step. She turned to look at Alex who was holding open the door for the others. He grinned at Maria and Isabel as they passed by him, then teasingly punched Kyle on the arm for something he said.
Liz left Max standing by the stairs and walked across the floor to Alex. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his chest.
Alex arched his eyebrows in surprise and held his arms out awkwardly from his body. He glanced over at Max and said, “Ah, Liz? Your boyfriend’s watching.”
A sense of almost overwhelming sadness engulfed her. Her arms tightened around him as she spoke into his chest.
“Be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me. Good old careful Alex Whitman, here,” Alex folded his arms around her and walked her back to Max. He kissed her on the top of her head, like he’d done a hundred times before. “Get some rest, Liz. You look tired.”
He gave her a little fake jab to the chin and then turned to follow the others into the restaurant. Liz watched him go, feeling a cold chill stabbing right through her.
“Come on, Liz,” Max took her by the arm and gently coaxed her up the stairs.
Liz watched the door swing closed, then let Max lead the way.
* * * * *
The two figures lounged in the front seat of the stolen Camero watching the front of the restaurant. Zan sat in the passenger seat blowing a smoke ring out the window. Lonnie sat behind the wheel beside him.
“Which one?” Lonnie tapped a blood red fingernail against the steering wheel.
“The geek,” Zan sucked a satisfying drag off his cigarette.
“Which one?” Lonnie arched an eyebrow, and they both snorted a derisive laugh.
“The tall lanky one,” Zan told her. “Alex.”
“Oh,” Lonnie nodded. “Geek central.”
“Yeah,” Zan smirked and then his attention refocused. He sat up and tossed his cigarette butt out the window.
Lonnie saw him too then, coming out of the restaurant door. Alex stood on the sidewalk making small talk with her counterpart, the girl they called Isabel. When the blonde turned and walked away, the boy turned in the opposite direction and rolled his eyes in obvious self-mockery.
“How cute,” Lonnie jeered, watching him climb into a nondescript sedan. “But no style points. Could that car be any more boring?”
“Follow him,” Zan ordered and reached for the door handle. He climbed from the car and slammed the door closed. He leaned down and looked in the open window, saying, “Find out what he’s doin’ with the book. Don’t make a move on him. Just watch him, and report his location.”
“Can’t I play with him a little?”
“You do and I’ll break your fuckin’ neck.”
“Fine!” Lonnie huffed. She started the car and Zan stepped back.
He watched the two cars drive down the road, the hunter and the hunted, smiling his inhuman smile. When they were out of sight he slipped his shades back on and crossed the street to the Crashdown.
* * * * *
Ava muscled the garbage bag out into the alley and over to the dumpster. She paused for a moment to wipe her brow and then lifted the metal lid, hefting it up and back.
“Need a little help, sweetcakes?” Zan came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and dragging her back against him.
“Zan,” she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She knew he wouldn’t leave her alone for long. His fullness pressed against her back, his hot breath on her throat made her shiver.
“Tell me what I wanna know.”
“Ain’t nothin’ ta tell yet.”
“What’s this?” he turned her around and plucked at the collar of her uniform.
Ava kept her face down. “I’m jus’ playin’ the part, like you wanted me to.”
“The boy. Alex. He’s got the book. Where’s he goin’?”
He knew about that? How’d he know about that? She shuddered, realizing who must have told him, and how he must have enjoyed getting the information out of her. “There ain’t been enough time for me ta find out anythin’ yet.”
“Is that right?” he pinched her chin and jerked her face upwards.
“I’m tryin’ ta feel everythin’ out,” she fought to keep her voice steady. She placed her hand on his crotch to refocus his attention.
“Feel everythin’ out, huh?” his lips curved in a sensual smile. His hand covered hers, crushing her hard against him before jerking her hand away. “Where is she?”
“Where’s who?”
“You know who. She’s not in the restaurant.” The harsh tone of his voice demanded an answer.
“She’s upstairs. In her room,” Ava told him what he wanted to know. It wouldn’t do any good to try to keep it from him.
Zan moved toward the ladder with long purposeful strides. Ava had to run to catch him. She grabbed him by the arm as he reached for the first rung.
“You can’t go up there! She ain’t alone.”
Zan’s eyes narrowed and he sniffed at the air. He could smell her up there, but Ava was right. He couldn’t have her if she wasn’t alone. Not the way he wanted her. He dropped his hand from the ladder and stepped away. He had other things he could do for now.
“I’ll be at the motel if ya find out anything,” he said, leaving Ava standing in the alley, watching him go.
TBC . . .
Author note: I’m going out of town for a week and doubt I’ll get any writing done. Consequently, the next update will probably be in 2 weeks. See ya then!
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Breathless
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 254
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Aftermath Part 39
Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
The mythology of this story is different than the show. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
From Sexual Healing:
“What are you doing here, Max?”
“Well, I have orders from my planet. To take over the Earth.”
Aftermath
Part 39
Alex sat in the computer lab, watching in fascination as the symbols from the Destiny Book flashed across the computer screen. Sundays were a quiet day on campus and he had the lab all to himself, exactly what he’d hoped for when he set out on this journey. He knew the decryption could take days or even weeks. Hell, it could even take years; it was an alien language, after all. Normal rules didn’t apply.
“Hey Cuz,” Brian poked his head in the door, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “How ya doing in here?”
“Fine,” Alex leaned forward to minimize the program. “Good. It’s going good.”
“You want to catch some dinner or something? You’ve been holed up in here for hours.”
“No, I’m good,” Alex checked his watch. Another hour or so and he should head back. Las Cruces to Roswell was a long and lonely drive. “Hey Brian. Is there a way to keep this program running in the background, but limiting it so that only I can access it?”
“Sure,” Brian stepped into the room, dressed in geek chic, right down to the pocket protector. “You’re being awfully secretive.”
“This game program is gonna make me a millionaire,” Alex easily fell into his cover story. “I can’t let anybody steal it from me!”
“I hear ya,” Brian let his fingers fly over the keyboard. A password box popped up on the screen and he pointed at it. “Just put your password in there, and then no one can access it but you. You should be able to remote access it from your home computer. Just enter in this and this . . .”
Brian showed Alex what he needed to know and then a hungry stomach sent him on his way. Alex watched him go, and when he was once more certain of solitude, he removed the Destiny Book from his backpack. He leaned back in his chair and looked through the pages, acknowledging to himself that he was fascinated, almost obsessed, with finding the meaning of the symbols. If he came home with some definitive answers, maybe Isabel would look at him as something more than just a computer nerd.
He turned from one page to the next, idly speculating over what kind of secrets the book held, until he shifted position and the loose page at the back dislodged. He caught it before it fell to the floor, and just as he was about to slip it into the back of the book he took a good look at the image.
He’d seen it before, the page with Liz’s picture, the ‘Wanted Poster’ as Kyle liked to call it. Liz’s image hadn’t changed since the first time he’d seen the page, but that’s not to say the page hadn’t changed.
He’d suspected it before, wondered if the symbols had changed, and if so what it might mean. He hadn’t said anything yet, afraid that it might be just his imagination, but there was no way this could be mistaken!
“Shit!” Alex cursed and bolted upright, with the front legs of the chair coming down hard on the floor. “What the hell is he doing there?”
The loose page of the Destiny Book no longer showed just the image of Liz Parker. Now, through some amazing alien technology he couldn’t remotely fathom, the image had changed. Even as he watched it, the page changed again, right before his eyes. The symbols below the picture moved, morphing as he watched, perhaps adding a name to the legend, or altering the reward.
Whatever it was, there was no doubt of what he was looking at. He held a page from an alien book in his hand, and across that page was the image of a target the alien invaders wanted eliminated. Since its discovery, they all thought that meant only Liz. Now he knew someone else had been added to the mix.
Alex gathered his things together and quickly left the room.
* * * * *
Max paced back and forth across the Parker living room, raking a hand through his already disheveled hair. He stopped in the middle of the room and turned to Michael, admitting his deepest fear.
“Michael, I’m really worried. What if it’s something I did to her? What if, you know, her and I being – together – did something to her? What if it gets worse? What if it gets a lot worse?”
“She’s had a couple of nightmares,” Michael sat on the arm of the couch, trying to be the voice of reason.
“What about the visions?”
“And a few visions,” Michael conceded. “But she’s had flashes before.”
“Only when we touched,” Max’s worry increased. “She’s never had flashes on her own before. She’s not sleeping well, and now she’s seeing things during the day. It’s not . . . normal.”
“Calm down, Max –”
“I think we should do something,” Max spoke right over Michael.
“Like what?”
Max hesitated only briefly and then came to a decision. He stood up straight, declaring, “I think we should go get the healing stones.”
“She’s not alien, Max. You don’t know if the stones will work on her.”
“I think we should try.”
“Max!” Maria suddenly appeared at the head of the hallway. “She’s getting worse!”
Max and Michael raced Maria back to the bedroom. They burst inside to see Isabel sitting on the bed almost sick with worry, and Liz pacing back and forth in front of her window with her arms crossed over her chest and her hands tucked up under her armpits.
“Liz,” Max rushed over to her. His hands on her shoulders stopped her restless pacing.
“Something’s wrong, Max,” she said, with anxiety ringing in her voice.
“I know . . .”
His guilt came through loud and clear. Something was wrong with her and he had to find a way to fix it.
“No. Not with me.” She turned toward the window and looked out at the darkening sky. “Something . . . something’s going to happen . . .”
“Liz, what is it?” Max turned her around to face him. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“Where’s Alex? Shouldn’t he be back by now? Shouldn’t he have called?”
Maria stood just inside the bedroom door with a cell phone pressed against her ear. When they all turned to look at her she pulled it away and shook her head. “He’s still not answering.”
“Damn it,” Michael snarled under his breath. He shouldn’t have let Alex go alone.
Liz turned back toward the window, raking a trembling hand through her hair. A collective gasp filled the room and the tension skyrocketed.
“Liz?” Max cautiously turned Liz around again, his face now full of shock and fear. Everyone was staring at the same thing he was. “Liz, your hands . . .”
Ribbons of green energy sparkled and swirled around her hands. Her eyes met his, looking both confused and frightened.
“What’s happening to me . . .?”
* * * * *
“Five miles?”
Tess stood in the dirt along the shoulder of the road watching Zan pace down the blacktop with a cell phone to his ear and a long neck beer bottle in his hand. Her face was puffy and her eyes were swollen and somewhere during the last twenty-four hours she realized she would have been better off dying in the crash of ‘47.
“Good. Stay back until it’s done. Then pick us up.”
Zan closed the phone and slipped it into his front pocket. He finished pacing off the distance and then turned around, looking closely at his surroundings. His movements were controlled and precise, and when he turned his head to look at her, Tess thought it was like looking into the face of death. She couldn’t stop shivering.
“Would you like to make a toast?” Zan held up the bottle and smirked at her. “A send off maybe?”
Tess stayed silent. She’d learned quickly not to make him angry.
“No?” he arched an eyebrow.
“I . . .” she felt compelled to say something. Her throat burned when she tried to speak, so she swallowed hard and tried again. “I . . . thought we couldn’t . . . drink.”
“This?” Zan cocked the bottle, spilling some of its amber contents onto the black pavement. Tess nodded and Zan smirked again. “This ain’t for drinkin’.”
He released the bottle and it fell straight down, smashing onto the surface of the road. Beer splattered everywhere. Glass shards, wicked and sharp, sparkled in the moonlight. He stepped over the glass and walked in her direction, making her knees begin to tremble. Those eyes. Those cold, cold eyes. When he reached her side he stared at her with those cold inhuman eyes.
“He’s coming,” Zan’s hot breath blew across her face. His arm tightened around her shoulders, and if anyone had been nearby, his touch would never be mistaken for a lover’s caress. But no one was here to see them, or to stop what was about to happen.
“Get ready,” Zan turned his face toward the long stretch of pavement.
“He’s almost here . . .”
* * * * *
Liz rocked back and forth on her bed waiting for Max to return from the pod chamber with the healing stones, but she didn’t think they were going to help. Despite her glowing hands, she didn’t think the problem was physical. Her mind was trying to tell her something she couldn’t understand, something important she hadn’t pieced together yet, and the energy sparkling in her hands was just a physical manifestation of the strain she was feeling.
“Here,” Maria came into the room offering a drink.
Liz reached for the bottled soda, but when her glowing hand touched the cold surface, the glass exploded spraying shards and raining fluid down onto the floor. It triggered a replay of her vision from earlier, her mind trying to tell her a story with haunting flashes and terrifying images.
Darkness. A long stretch of pavement. Glass glittering in the moonlight. The scream of metal rending. Shadows in a mirror.
Blood . . . slowly dripping.
A tire . . . spinning . . . spinning . . . spinning . . .
“Liz!” Maria cried out, dropping down in front of her friend and grabbing her by the shoulders.
Liz’s eyes swam back into focus and locked onto Maria’s. Her voice came out in a whisper, horrified by what she knew was going to happen.
“He’s gonna die . . .”
* * * * *
Alex drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm to the music blaring from the radio. It wouldn’t be long until he reached Roswell now. He glanced over at the passenger seat and picked up his cell phone again, checking to see if it was working yet. The battery was fully charged, but the display still indicated no service. He tossed it back onto the seat.
It clinked against the Destiny Book, metal against metal, reminding Alex of the news he had to share with the other members of the ‘I Know an Alien Club’. He slipped out the loose page and glanced at the two images again. He couldn’t wait to show the others.
Just a few more miles.
* * * * *
Zan’s arm tightened painfully around Tess’s shoulders when the car lights came into view. The beams swept through the trees that lined this section of the highway, arcing with the curve of the road.
Zan’s mouth hovered next to her ear and she closed her eyes, praying for a miracle, knowing it wouldn’t be answered. His fingers bit into her arm, demanding, controlling, a force she couldn’t fight. He was too strong. She felt his chilling presence in her mind.
“Get ready . . .”
Tess held her breath, silently begging for forgiveness as the headlights swept around the final curve.
“Now.”
She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, not wanting to see what was happening along this deserted stretch of highway.
Alex rounded the corner, suddenly blinded by a pair of headlights barreling right at him, headlights that weren’t really there. He cried out in surprise and alarm and fought with the steering wheel that suddenly seemed to have a mind of its own. The sound of air brakes and blaring horns blasted the night as the phantom semi sped right at him.
“SHIT!” the word flew out of Alex’s mouth as the semi streaked by with only inches to spare, but the trouble wasn’t over yet. His right front tire ran over razor sharp shards of broken glass that littered the highway, shredding the tire and snapping the brake line. Alex slammed on the brake pedal but his foot went straight to the floor.
He frantically pumped the brake as the car careened off the road, but nothing was going to stop the impending doom. A tree loomed large in front of him.
The sound of the impact made Tess’s stomach lurch and roll. Rending metal and breaking glass screamed through the night. A tear spilled from her closed eyelid and rolled down her cheek to her quivering chin. Zan smiled beside her.
“You did good,” he squeezed her shoulder affectionately, then his voice turned harsh again. “Now go get the book.”
She didn’t move, she couldn’t, but then the pain started again. Zan didn’t like to be defied. With the pain in her head becoming unbearable, self-preservation forced her to move.
The car hissed and creaked as she neared, steam rising from the crushed radiator, the engine ticking in its death throes. Another sound reached her, this one of fluid . . . dripping . . . inside the car. A cry welled up in her throat when she saw where it was coming from.
“Alex,” she choked and covered her eyes. Oh God. Alex. The image would haunt her forever.
The pain in her head increased again, forcing her to complete her assigned task. She skirted around the car to the passenger side and slowly reached inside the broken window. The Destiny Book lay on the floorboards where it had landed during the wreck. She used her powers to remove Alex’s blood from the cover before she picked it up.
“That’s my girl,” Zan said from right behind her, making Tess nearly jump out of her skin. He grabbed the book out of her hand and pushed her toward the newly arrived Lonnie and the waiting Camero.
“Playtime’s over for today.”
* * * * *
Max sat in the front passenger seat of the jeep, feeling too jittery to drive. He left that in Michael’s capable hands. Their visit to the pod chamber had been short, just long enough to retrieve the healing stones from their hiding place, and now they were headed back to town. He held one of the stones in his hand, feeling the strange hum of power that emanated from inside it.
“She’ll be fine,” Michael tried to ease his friend’s worries.
“Yeah,” Max nodded, not sounding convinced. He set the healing stone down and looked out the window as the night landscape darted by.
They drove in silence for awhile, until Michael broke it once again. “Maybe you guys should, you know, do it again. Get that connection thing going and figure this out.”
“Do it again?” Max shot him an incredulous look.
“You know what I mean!” Michael shot back. “That whole look into my eyes thing.”
“Now you sound like Maria,” Max scoffed before turning pensive again. “Besides, I don’t think that’s gonna . . .”
His voice trailed off as they rounded a corner and the headlights of the jeep highlighted the mangled wreckage off the right side of the road. Steam still rose from the crushed engine, indicating that the accident was recent.
Michael slowed and then pulled off the road, bumping over the rough terrain to get closer.
“Oh Jesus!” Max blurted out, reaching for the door handle before they even stopped. “Do you know whose car that is?!”
Max was out the door and sprinting for the driver’s side of the wrecked vehicle before Michael’s brain could absorb what he was reading. He sat rooted in the jeep, staring at the bumper sticker with the familiar name.
The Whits.
Max reached the driver’s door and then staggered back, averting his face from what he saw inside the wreckage. He swallowed back the bile that was rising in his throat and forced himself to go back to the car. As long as there was even a slim chance that Alex wasn’t dead, he had to try. He yanked on the car door, pulling on the twisted metal to get to the body inside.
“Outta the way,” Michael suddenly appeared at Max’s side. He tried not to notice the carnage inside the car as he pulled on the door. It finally came free amid the loud protest of grinding metal and Max leapt inside. Within seconds his hands were covered with Alex’s blood.
“C’mon, Alex,” Max touched him, not knowing where to start. Blood covered Alex’s face, his shirt, the seat, the steering wheel. It even dripped from the rear view mirror. But his body was still warm, which meant there was still a chance. Max reached for his wrist hoping to find a pulse.
“Help me,” Max said to Michael and the two boys worked together to extricate Alex from the twisted wreckage. They laid him on the ground and Max went to work. His hand covered the gaping wound on Alex’s throat and he closed his eyes, concentrating hard, feeling for the damage.
A spark of life still lingered inside the body, just a flicker, but enough for Max to feel, to reach, to touch. His energy flowed through the open wound, surrounding the spark, feeding it energy, breathing new life into it, fanning the spark into a flame. He coaxed it back from the brink of darkness, giving everything he had inside himself to save his dying friend.
Michael crouched on the ground beside Alex, helplessly watching Max try to heal him. His own healing powers were almost non-existent, and he didn’t want to disrupt the connection Max was trying to forge. The light emanating from Max’s hand grew brighter and brighter, while his breathing grew more labored, the strain of the healing rapidly sapping Max’s strength. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his body visibly trembled.
“Come on, Alex,” Michael pleaded. “Open your eyes . . .”
A sudden realization dawned on Michael that at some point over the last few days or weeks or months, Alex had stopped being just a guy he was bound to by circumstance. He wasn’t just an inconvenient human forced upon him by events Michael wasn’t able to control. At some point, without him even consciously knowing it, Alex had turned from ‘just a human’ into a friend. His chest constricted at the thought of losing him.
“Come on,” Michael pleaded again. He slipped his hand inside Alex’s, feeling Max’s healing vibrations flowing under the skin.
Max pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion and then beyond, sacrificing his own health, refusing to give up. He wouldn’t let Alex die. He couldn’t. Images began to flash across his minds eye, brief moments from Alex’s life.
Eating a sandwich at an oversized table, licking peanut butter and jam off his face.
Skateboarding down the sidewalk, jumping the curb, and falling on his butt.
Awkwardly dancing a slow dance with Liz at the sixth grade Sadie Hawkins Dance, while Maria waited her turn.
Sitting in a hospital chair squeezing his eyes closed while Isabel filled a test tube with his blood.
Hiding in an old abandoned mine shaft after risking life and limb, a full blown member of the I Know an Alien Club, one of the few members that actually joined of his own free will.
Alex gasped, drawing a breath into his lungs. His eyes popped open just as Max fell away in exhaustion, crumpling onto the ground. Michael checked Alex first, then ran around to Max to see if he was alright. He’d never seen Max expend so much energy before.
“Is he . . .?” Max asked, too weak to lift his head.
“What’s going on?” Alex sat up on his elbows. “How’d I get here? Where’d you guys come from? Why are we on the ground? Is that my car over there? What the hell happened to my car?”
“Yeah,” Michael smiled at Max. “Alex is fine.”
Minutes later, Michael helped an exhausted Max to the jeep. Alex sat on the ground and leaned back against a tire, cradling his broken arm against his chest. Max had healed all his major wounds, but he hadn’t had the strength left to heal everything, which was probably just as well. A wreck that bad would look suspicious if Alex walked away without a scratch.
“You gonna be okay?” Michael asked, giving Max a hand into the passenger seat of the jeep. In the distance a siren wailed.
Max nodded. Speaking took too much effort. He looked toward the mangled wreckage and managed to say, “Too much blood.”
Michael got his meaning immediately. He jogged over to the car and winced at the grisly interior. Blood was splattered everywhere. Michael waved his hand over the seat, the steering wheel, and the rear view mirror, removing the evidence.
At the jeep, Alex looked up at Max and said, “Thanks, you know, for saving my life and all.”
“You’re welcome,” Max smiled weakly. “Do you know what happened? How you ended up over . . . there?” he pointed at the wreckage. The front right tire was off the ground, slowly spinning in the air.
“I don’t remember anything,” Alex shrugged and then winced. His arm hurt like hell.
Flashing lights came into view and moments later the Sheriff’s vehicle slid to a stop in the gravel near the jeep. Jim Valenti climbed out and hurried over.
“What happened here?” Jim’s tone was thick with worry. He assessed Alex’s condition, then noted the shape Max was in, and quickly put two and two together. “You two okay?”
“Broken arm. Wrecked car. My dad’s gonna kill me. Max just delayed the inevitable,” Alex quipped.
“We’re okay,” Max smiled at Jim.
Michael came up behind them and joined the group. He wasn’t smiling.
“Did you get the book?” Alex asked.
“No. But I found this in the car,” Michael held out a familiar metal alien artifact. “Can anyone explain what this means?”
“What the hell is this?” Jim took it from his hand. He stared at the two images on the metal page trying to make sense of it. “I thought you said this only showed Liz’s picture.”
“It did,” Alex answered. “Until about four hours ago. Then it changed.”
Max took the metal page from Jim and stared at the familiar faces. His fingers touched Liz, and then the image of the boy standing behind her. He looked up and asked, “Where’s the Destiny Book?”
Michael shook his head and frowned. “It’s gone.”
TBC
Category: Max and Liz, CC/UC
Rating: PG 13 to NC 17
The mythology of this story is different than the show. Max and company (Zan and his cohorts too) did NOT live previous lives. Max was never a KING. Tess was never his WIFE. Isabel wasn’t a PRINCESS.
From Sexual Healing:
“What are you doing here, Max?”
“Well, I have orders from my planet. To take over the Earth.”
Aftermath
Part 39
Alex sat in the computer lab, watching in fascination as the symbols from the Destiny Book flashed across the computer screen. Sundays were a quiet day on campus and he had the lab all to himself, exactly what he’d hoped for when he set out on this journey. He knew the decryption could take days or even weeks. Hell, it could even take years; it was an alien language, after all. Normal rules didn’t apply.
“Hey Cuz,” Brian poked his head in the door, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “How ya doing in here?”
“Fine,” Alex leaned forward to minimize the program. “Good. It’s going good.”
“You want to catch some dinner or something? You’ve been holed up in here for hours.”
“No, I’m good,” Alex checked his watch. Another hour or so and he should head back. Las Cruces to Roswell was a long and lonely drive. “Hey Brian. Is there a way to keep this program running in the background, but limiting it so that only I can access it?”
“Sure,” Brian stepped into the room, dressed in geek chic, right down to the pocket protector. “You’re being awfully secretive.”
“This game program is gonna make me a millionaire,” Alex easily fell into his cover story. “I can’t let anybody steal it from me!”
“I hear ya,” Brian let his fingers fly over the keyboard. A password box popped up on the screen and he pointed at it. “Just put your password in there, and then no one can access it but you. You should be able to remote access it from your home computer. Just enter in this and this . . .”
Brian showed Alex what he needed to know and then a hungry stomach sent him on his way. Alex watched him go, and when he was once more certain of solitude, he removed the Destiny Book from his backpack. He leaned back in his chair and looked through the pages, acknowledging to himself that he was fascinated, almost obsessed, with finding the meaning of the symbols. If he came home with some definitive answers, maybe Isabel would look at him as something more than just a computer nerd.
He turned from one page to the next, idly speculating over what kind of secrets the book held, until he shifted position and the loose page at the back dislodged. He caught it before it fell to the floor, and just as he was about to slip it into the back of the book he took a good look at the image.
He’d seen it before, the page with Liz’s picture, the ‘Wanted Poster’ as Kyle liked to call it. Liz’s image hadn’t changed since the first time he’d seen the page, but that’s not to say the page hadn’t changed.
He’d suspected it before, wondered if the symbols had changed, and if so what it might mean. He hadn’t said anything yet, afraid that it might be just his imagination, but there was no way this could be mistaken!
“Shit!” Alex cursed and bolted upright, with the front legs of the chair coming down hard on the floor. “What the hell is he doing there?”
The loose page of the Destiny Book no longer showed just the image of Liz Parker. Now, through some amazing alien technology he couldn’t remotely fathom, the image had changed. Even as he watched it, the page changed again, right before his eyes. The symbols below the picture moved, morphing as he watched, perhaps adding a name to the legend, or altering the reward.
Whatever it was, there was no doubt of what he was looking at. He held a page from an alien book in his hand, and across that page was the image of a target the alien invaders wanted eliminated. Since its discovery, they all thought that meant only Liz. Now he knew someone else had been added to the mix.
Alex gathered his things together and quickly left the room.
* * * * *
Max paced back and forth across the Parker living room, raking a hand through his already disheveled hair. He stopped in the middle of the room and turned to Michael, admitting his deepest fear.
“Michael, I’m really worried. What if it’s something I did to her? What if, you know, her and I being – together – did something to her? What if it gets worse? What if it gets a lot worse?”
“She’s had a couple of nightmares,” Michael sat on the arm of the couch, trying to be the voice of reason.
“What about the visions?”
“And a few visions,” Michael conceded. “But she’s had flashes before.”
“Only when we touched,” Max’s worry increased. “She’s never had flashes on her own before. She’s not sleeping well, and now she’s seeing things during the day. It’s not . . . normal.”
“Calm down, Max –”
“I think we should do something,” Max spoke right over Michael.
“Like what?”
Max hesitated only briefly and then came to a decision. He stood up straight, declaring, “I think we should go get the healing stones.”
“She’s not alien, Max. You don’t know if the stones will work on her.”
“I think we should try.”
“Max!” Maria suddenly appeared at the head of the hallway. “She’s getting worse!”
Max and Michael raced Maria back to the bedroom. They burst inside to see Isabel sitting on the bed almost sick with worry, and Liz pacing back and forth in front of her window with her arms crossed over her chest and her hands tucked up under her armpits.
“Liz,” Max rushed over to her. His hands on her shoulders stopped her restless pacing.
“Something’s wrong, Max,” she said, with anxiety ringing in her voice.
“I know . . .”
His guilt came through loud and clear. Something was wrong with her and he had to find a way to fix it.
“No. Not with me.” She turned toward the window and looked out at the darkening sky. “Something . . . something’s going to happen . . .”
“Liz, what is it?” Max turned her around to face him. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“Where’s Alex? Shouldn’t he be back by now? Shouldn’t he have called?”
Maria stood just inside the bedroom door with a cell phone pressed against her ear. When they all turned to look at her she pulled it away and shook her head. “He’s still not answering.”
“Damn it,” Michael snarled under his breath. He shouldn’t have let Alex go alone.
Liz turned back toward the window, raking a trembling hand through her hair. A collective gasp filled the room and the tension skyrocketed.
“Liz?” Max cautiously turned Liz around again, his face now full of shock and fear. Everyone was staring at the same thing he was. “Liz, your hands . . .”
Ribbons of green energy sparkled and swirled around her hands. Her eyes met his, looking both confused and frightened.
“What’s happening to me . . .?”
* * * * *
“Five miles?”
Tess stood in the dirt along the shoulder of the road watching Zan pace down the blacktop with a cell phone to his ear and a long neck beer bottle in his hand. Her face was puffy and her eyes were swollen and somewhere during the last twenty-four hours she realized she would have been better off dying in the crash of ‘47.
“Good. Stay back until it’s done. Then pick us up.”
Zan closed the phone and slipped it into his front pocket. He finished pacing off the distance and then turned around, looking closely at his surroundings. His movements were controlled and precise, and when he turned his head to look at her, Tess thought it was like looking into the face of death. She couldn’t stop shivering.
“Would you like to make a toast?” Zan held up the bottle and smirked at her. “A send off maybe?”
Tess stayed silent. She’d learned quickly not to make him angry.
“No?” he arched an eyebrow.
“I . . .” she felt compelled to say something. Her throat burned when she tried to speak, so she swallowed hard and tried again. “I . . . thought we couldn’t . . . drink.”
“This?” Zan cocked the bottle, spilling some of its amber contents onto the black pavement. Tess nodded and Zan smirked again. “This ain’t for drinkin’.”
He released the bottle and it fell straight down, smashing onto the surface of the road. Beer splattered everywhere. Glass shards, wicked and sharp, sparkled in the moonlight. He stepped over the glass and walked in her direction, making her knees begin to tremble. Those eyes. Those cold, cold eyes. When he reached her side he stared at her with those cold inhuman eyes.
“He’s coming,” Zan’s hot breath blew across her face. His arm tightened around her shoulders, and if anyone had been nearby, his touch would never be mistaken for a lover’s caress. But no one was here to see them, or to stop what was about to happen.
“Get ready,” Zan turned his face toward the long stretch of pavement.
“He’s almost here . . .”
* * * * *
Liz rocked back and forth on her bed waiting for Max to return from the pod chamber with the healing stones, but she didn’t think they were going to help. Despite her glowing hands, she didn’t think the problem was physical. Her mind was trying to tell her something she couldn’t understand, something important she hadn’t pieced together yet, and the energy sparkling in her hands was just a physical manifestation of the strain she was feeling.
“Here,” Maria came into the room offering a drink.
Liz reached for the bottled soda, but when her glowing hand touched the cold surface, the glass exploded spraying shards and raining fluid down onto the floor. It triggered a replay of her vision from earlier, her mind trying to tell her a story with haunting flashes and terrifying images.
Darkness. A long stretch of pavement. Glass glittering in the moonlight. The scream of metal rending. Shadows in a mirror.
Blood . . . slowly dripping.
A tire . . . spinning . . . spinning . . . spinning . . .
“Liz!” Maria cried out, dropping down in front of her friend and grabbing her by the shoulders.
Liz’s eyes swam back into focus and locked onto Maria’s. Her voice came out in a whisper, horrified by what she knew was going to happen.
“He’s gonna die . . .”
* * * * *
Alex drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm to the music blaring from the radio. It wouldn’t be long until he reached Roswell now. He glanced over at the passenger seat and picked up his cell phone again, checking to see if it was working yet. The battery was fully charged, but the display still indicated no service. He tossed it back onto the seat.
It clinked against the Destiny Book, metal against metal, reminding Alex of the news he had to share with the other members of the ‘I Know an Alien Club’. He slipped out the loose page and glanced at the two images again. He couldn’t wait to show the others.
Just a few more miles.
* * * * *
Zan’s arm tightened painfully around Tess’s shoulders when the car lights came into view. The beams swept through the trees that lined this section of the highway, arcing with the curve of the road.
Zan’s mouth hovered next to her ear and she closed her eyes, praying for a miracle, knowing it wouldn’t be answered. His fingers bit into her arm, demanding, controlling, a force she couldn’t fight. He was too strong. She felt his chilling presence in her mind.
“Get ready . . .”
Tess held her breath, silently begging for forgiveness as the headlights swept around the final curve.
“Now.”
She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, not wanting to see what was happening along this deserted stretch of highway.
Alex rounded the corner, suddenly blinded by a pair of headlights barreling right at him, headlights that weren’t really there. He cried out in surprise and alarm and fought with the steering wheel that suddenly seemed to have a mind of its own. The sound of air brakes and blaring horns blasted the night as the phantom semi sped right at him.
“SHIT!” the word flew out of Alex’s mouth as the semi streaked by with only inches to spare, but the trouble wasn’t over yet. His right front tire ran over razor sharp shards of broken glass that littered the highway, shredding the tire and snapping the brake line. Alex slammed on the brake pedal but his foot went straight to the floor.
He frantically pumped the brake as the car careened off the road, but nothing was going to stop the impending doom. A tree loomed large in front of him.
The sound of the impact made Tess’s stomach lurch and roll. Rending metal and breaking glass screamed through the night. A tear spilled from her closed eyelid and rolled down her cheek to her quivering chin. Zan smiled beside her.
“You did good,” he squeezed her shoulder affectionately, then his voice turned harsh again. “Now go get the book.”
She didn’t move, she couldn’t, but then the pain started again. Zan didn’t like to be defied. With the pain in her head becoming unbearable, self-preservation forced her to move.
The car hissed and creaked as she neared, steam rising from the crushed radiator, the engine ticking in its death throes. Another sound reached her, this one of fluid . . . dripping . . . inside the car. A cry welled up in her throat when she saw where it was coming from.
“Alex,” she choked and covered her eyes. Oh God. Alex. The image would haunt her forever.
The pain in her head increased again, forcing her to complete her assigned task. She skirted around the car to the passenger side and slowly reached inside the broken window. The Destiny Book lay on the floorboards where it had landed during the wreck. She used her powers to remove Alex’s blood from the cover before she picked it up.
“That’s my girl,” Zan said from right behind her, making Tess nearly jump out of her skin. He grabbed the book out of her hand and pushed her toward the newly arrived Lonnie and the waiting Camero.
“Playtime’s over for today.”
* * * * *
Max sat in the front passenger seat of the jeep, feeling too jittery to drive. He left that in Michael’s capable hands. Their visit to the pod chamber had been short, just long enough to retrieve the healing stones from their hiding place, and now they were headed back to town. He held one of the stones in his hand, feeling the strange hum of power that emanated from inside it.
“She’ll be fine,” Michael tried to ease his friend’s worries.
“Yeah,” Max nodded, not sounding convinced. He set the healing stone down and looked out the window as the night landscape darted by.
They drove in silence for awhile, until Michael broke it once again. “Maybe you guys should, you know, do it again. Get that connection thing going and figure this out.”
“Do it again?” Max shot him an incredulous look.
“You know what I mean!” Michael shot back. “That whole look into my eyes thing.”
“Now you sound like Maria,” Max scoffed before turning pensive again. “Besides, I don’t think that’s gonna . . .”
His voice trailed off as they rounded a corner and the headlights of the jeep highlighted the mangled wreckage off the right side of the road. Steam still rose from the crushed engine, indicating that the accident was recent.
Michael slowed and then pulled off the road, bumping over the rough terrain to get closer.
“Oh Jesus!” Max blurted out, reaching for the door handle before they even stopped. “Do you know whose car that is?!”
Max was out the door and sprinting for the driver’s side of the wrecked vehicle before Michael’s brain could absorb what he was reading. He sat rooted in the jeep, staring at the bumper sticker with the familiar name.
The Whits.
Max reached the driver’s door and then staggered back, averting his face from what he saw inside the wreckage. He swallowed back the bile that was rising in his throat and forced himself to go back to the car. As long as there was even a slim chance that Alex wasn’t dead, he had to try. He yanked on the car door, pulling on the twisted metal to get to the body inside.
“Outta the way,” Michael suddenly appeared at Max’s side. He tried not to notice the carnage inside the car as he pulled on the door. It finally came free amid the loud protest of grinding metal and Max leapt inside. Within seconds his hands were covered with Alex’s blood.
“C’mon, Alex,” Max touched him, not knowing where to start. Blood covered Alex’s face, his shirt, the seat, the steering wheel. It even dripped from the rear view mirror. But his body was still warm, which meant there was still a chance. Max reached for his wrist hoping to find a pulse.
“Help me,” Max said to Michael and the two boys worked together to extricate Alex from the twisted wreckage. They laid him on the ground and Max went to work. His hand covered the gaping wound on Alex’s throat and he closed his eyes, concentrating hard, feeling for the damage.
A spark of life still lingered inside the body, just a flicker, but enough for Max to feel, to reach, to touch. His energy flowed through the open wound, surrounding the spark, feeding it energy, breathing new life into it, fanning the spark into a flame. He coaxed it back from the brink of darkness, giving everything he had inside himself to save his dying friend.
Michael crouched on the ground beside Alex, helplessly watching Max try to heal him. His own healing powers were almost non-existent, and he didn’t want to disrupt the connection Max was trying to forge. The light emanating from Max’s hand grew brighter and brighter, while his breathing grew more labored, the strain of the healing rapidly sapping Max’s strength. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his body visibly trembled.
“Come on, Alex,” Michael pleaded. “Open your eyes . . .”
A sudden realization dawned on Michael that at some point over the last few days or weeks or months, Alex had stopped being just a guy he was bound to by circumstance. He wasn’t just an inconvenient human forced upon him by events Michael wasn’t able to control. At some point, without him even consciously knowing it, Alex had turned from ‘just a human’ into a friend. His chest constricted at the thought of losing him.
“Come on,” Michael pleaded again. He slipped his hand inside Alex’s, feeling Max’s healing vibrations flowing under the skin.
Max pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion and then beyond, sacrificing his own health, refusing to give up. He wouldn’t let Alex die. He couldn’t. Images began to flash across his minds eye, brief moments from Alex’s life.
Eating a sandwich at an oversized table, licking peanut butter and jam off his face.
Skateboarding down the sidewalk, jumping the curb, and falling on his butt.
Awkwardly dancing a slow dance with Liz at the sixth grade Sadie Hawkins Dance, while Maria waited her turn.
Sitting in a hospital chair squeezing his eyes closed while Isabel filled a test tube with his blood.
Hiding in an old abandoned mine shaft after risking life and limb, a full blown member of the I Know an Alien Club, one of the few members that actually joined of his own free will.
Alex gasped, drawing a breath into his lungs. His eyes popped open just as Max fell away in exhaustion, crumpling onto the ground. Michael checked Alex first, then ran around to Max to see if he was alright. He’d never seen Max expend so much energy before.
“Is he . . .?” Max asked, too weak to lift his head.
“What’s going on?” Alex sat up on his elbows. “How’d I get here? Where’d you guys come from? Why are we on the ground? Is that my car over there? What the hell happened to my car?”
“Yeah,” Michael smiled at Max. “Alex is fine.”
Minutes later, Michael helped an exhausted Max to the jeep. Alex sat on the ground and leaned back against a tire, cradling his broken arm against his chest. Max had healed all his major wounds, but he hadn’t had the strength left to heal everything, which was probably just as well. A wreck that bad would look suspicious if Alex walked away without a scratch.
“You gonna be okay?” Michael asked, giving Max a hand into the passenger seat of the jeep. In the distance a siren wailed.
Max nodded. Speaking took too much effort. He looked toward the mangled wreckage and managed to say, “Too much blood.”
Michael got his meaning immediately. He jogged over to the car and winced at the grisly interior. Blood was splattered everywhere. Michael waved his hand over the seat, the steering wheel, and the rear view mirror, removing the evidence.
At the jeep, Alex looked up at Max and said, “Thanks, you know, for saving my life and all.”
“You’re welcome,” Max smiled weakly. “Do you know what happened? How you ended up over . . . there?” he pointed at the wreckage. The front right tire was off the ground, slowly spinning in the air.
“I don’t remember anything,” Alex shrugged and then winced. His arm hurt like hell.
Flashing lights came into view and moments later the Sheriff’s vehicle slid to a stop in the gravel near the jeep. Jim Valenti climbed out and hurried over.
“What happened here?” Jim’s tone was thick with worry. He assessed Alex’s condition, then noted the shape Max was in, and quickly put two and two together. “You two okay?”
“Broken arm. Wrecked car. My dad’s gonna kill me. Max just delayed the inevitable,” Alex quipped.
“We’re okay,” Max smiled at Jim.
Michael came up behind them and joined the group. He wasn’t smiling.
“Did you get the book?” Alex asked.
“No. But I found this in the car,” Michael held out a familiar metal alien artifact. “Can anyone explain what this means?”
“What the hell is this?” Jim took it from his hand. He stared at the two images on the metal page trying to make sense of it. “I thought you said this only showed Liz’s picture.”
“It did,” Alex answered. “Until about four hours ago. Then it changed.”
Max took the metal page from Jim and stared at the familiar faces. His fingers touched Liz, and then the image of the boy standing behind her. He looked up and asked, “Where’s the Destiny Book?”
Michael shook his head and frowned. “It’s gone.”
TBC
Last edited by Breathless on Sun Nov 16, 2003 3:39 am, edited 1 time in total.