Okay, I'm back and wow! I'm glad you guys seem to like this! It's really different from anything I've tried before, so I hope you all won't be disappointed.
Some quick feedback to your feedback, and then we'll get into the new part.
A Rose Is True Blue wrote:1) Where is Maria? And my little stud Alex?
2) I'm assuming that Max, Michael and Isabel just moved to Roswell. Am I right?
3) Okay - why the heck did Liz just up and leave? I'm going to guess that it's because she found out that Tess, Max, Isabel and Michael are all aliens (those are the aliens right)?
4) When you said different couples what did you mean? *gasp* No Alex/Isabel?!? Huh??! I think I might faint.
5) Is Pamela Troy about to be hit by a shopping cart anytime soon?
Erin! You crack me up with your shopping cart revenge methods. We need to have a little talk, hunnie.
As for Alex and Maria, the gang is all here, I promise. The couples will be the same way they were in the show, with the exception of the Max/Tess disaster. I can swear to you all, there will be NO Rebelness in this fic. EVER. End of story. Rest easy. LOL.sare wrote:Is Tess good in this one? Don't get me wrong, I hate Tess, but I get tired of her always being the bad guy.
Tess is a good little girl in this one, folks.
I've recently come to the realization that it is more satisfying for me to write Tess's character in a non-horrifying manner. Helps keep the whole disaster that was season 2 and 3 far from my mind.frenchkiss70 wrote:Lindsay are you really writing another fic?

*hides* I know!! God help me, it was just something that popped in my head and refused to leave. Don't hate me! LOL!
I am a dreamer wrote:if the aliens are aliens, then tess is an alien, then how did she turn up as lizs step sister?? why would liz run off and leave roswell??
All your questions and more will be answered very shortly.
Evans3 wrote:Do Liz's parents owns the Crashdown or not? Just wondering.
No, Liz and Tess just work there. You'll find out more about Liz's parents in this chapter.RebeccaBehr wrote:why does Liz have such a reputation in town? ... that's something that really intrigues me... was she like used to going out with a lot of guys and all, and that's why people assumed she was some kind of 'slut' ... or was she really the 'easy type' and her 'slutty' reputation is indeed true

... somehow I've some difficulties picturing Liz being that way... or at least, continuing with that attitude once she met Max

Okay, I have to warn you all... Liz in this story will be slightly different from on the show. Yes, she has a reputation, and it isn't all substantiated.
But I promise you all that there is a reason she acts the way she does, and Max will definately have an impact on her life. Have faith, and I believe you will all be satisfied with the way she finds herself. That, after all, is what this story is truly about.Beautifully Raediant wrote:He has an accent? That little country boy accent that Rae just stumbles over herself everytime she hears it (any accent, really)? *dreamy sigh*
LOL, yes, Max has a bit of an accent in this one. Which is weird, because he's actually from California... hmm... artistic license?
I dunno, I just work here. We'll just pretend he adapts well to the surroundings.
“Right, well, I’ll just have an Alien Blast,” he spoke and the words wrapped around her like silk.
Rae shivered.
Beautifully Raediant wrote:Wait,
what? How'd
that get in there?

/:-D
LOL, Rae! You kill me. Really. That's a good thing, considering how sick I feel today. So, thank you dahling!
Okay, on we go....
<center>
Part 2</center>
“God, this town reeks.”
Max Evans ignored his sister’s cynical moan as they drove along the dusty desert roads. His hair ruffled in the breeze, and Dave Matthews’ mellow voice soothed his frazzled nerves.
His mind was still in the small diner, focused on the petite brunette with the sad eyes who had served them lunch.
When he had walked inside the café, he’d felt the energy somehow…
shift.
Although he’d been momentarily distracted by something Michael had mumbled about the restaurant’s alien-decor, the hair on the back of his neck had prickled, his eyes had unconsciously sought out the source of his attention.
When the girl had walked by in the drab aqua uniform and antennae, something in him had seemed to sigh. Then he’d felt as though he’d suffered a blow to the gut.
He’d listened to her conversation with the snarky blonde, and experienced a mixture of outrage and pity when he’d glimpsed the walls she’d raised to protect herself.
He’d had the most absurd inclination to save her.
Then she’d looked at him, and he’d realized this was a girl who needed no saving.
Or at least, that’s what she believed. Her dark eyes flashed and her shoulders were set with determined pride as she’d made her way to his booth.
She’d taken his breath away.
“Maxwell, are you listening to me?”
Max glanced over at his sister and forced his lips to quirk in a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Isabel. I guess I’m just… thinking.”
Her eyes changed from irritated to understanding. “I know things are strange right now with the move and all, Max. But… we’ll survive. Maybe we’ll finally find some answers. This seems to be the town for it.”
Max nodded, and felt guilty from hiding his true thoughts from Isabel. He knew she didn’t really believe what she was saying, more she wanted to comfort him. She believed he was still brooding over their parents sudden decision to move their law practice from California to New Mexico.
He
was wary of the change. They’d managed to live a seemingly standard life in Los Angeles, and Max had finally reconciled himself to the fact that they’d never really learn where they’d come from.
Isabel had thrown herself into being normal, and had taken it the hardest when they’d been torn from their comfortable lives.
For her, Max wanted to be strong.
But it wasn’t easy, for as much as Isabel wanted to be normal, their adopted brother Michael went out of his way to be an outsider.
Max glanced at the rearview mirror and sure enough, Michael’s trademark scowl was on his lips as he leaned against the door, his slate-gray eyes narrowed and intense.
Michael had wanted the move to Roswell.
He’d never really accepted that they had been left on this earth with virtually no knowledge of how or why they’d come to be there.
He spent his days, not attempting to fit in as Isabel had, or even with the sense of resigned complacency that had filled Max. Instead, Michael used his time desperately searching for clues to their past.
In the end, Max became the peacemaker between his siblings, and although he hid it well, it took a lot out of him when Isabel and Michael would argue over things that couldn’t be changed.
But that wasn’t what had him brooding now.
No, his current thoughts had nothing to do with his alien side. Or maybe they did.
He recalled the strange primal sense that had risen in him when he’d stared into her…
Liz’s… eyes. Perhaps he really should be worrying about his apparent connection with a small-town waitress.
He pulled into the long driveway of their home. Michael was already out of the Jeep, shoulders stooped as he trudged towards the ambling ranch house.
Max knew his brother would hole himself in his room for the remainder of the night, ignoring anyone and everyone who attempted to talk to him. It was just Michael’s way.
Max and Isabel had always known they were related, they both recalled that night ten years ago, when the Evans’ had found them walking naked on a dark highway.
Why they would have wanted to take in such scraggly children, children who hadn’t known how to speak or communicate in any way, and raise them as their own, Max would never know. And he knew he could never fully repay the debt he felt towards Phillip and Diane Evans.
But Michael had been a different story.
He’d been a problem child from New York, tossed in the foster care program at the age of twelve, when a group of beat cops discovered him living behind a dumpster in a dank alley.
He’d gone from home to home, never acclimating to any family in particular. He caused trouble, talked back, and basically became a juvenile deliquent.
When his then-foster father had accused him of stealing, he’d been sent to juvenile custody where he’d met Phillip Evans, a young public defender who had taken one look at the troubled adolescent and had brought him home.
Max almost smiled as he recalled the first time he and Isabel had set eyes on Michael Guerin.
Isabel had been ecstatic that their father had brought her a new friend to play with, whereas Max had been markedly wary over bringing another person into their lives.
But the second Michael had walked in, all stiff-necked and challenging eyes with a personality as prickly as his hair, something had clicked.
Without speaking, he’d known Michael was one of them. And from the look of astonishment on the other boy’s face, Michael had felt the same bone-deep recognition.
From then on, they were three against the world.
The loved each other, depended on each other, even if they didn’t always agree.
Case in point, the present move to Roswell. At least Isabel had quit threatening to fry Michael with her powers.
“Are you coming?” Isabel tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she regarded her brother. “Max, are you sure you’re okay? You were acting strange at the café earlier. Is there something you need to talk about?”
Max thought about the reaction he’d receive if he admitted to Isabel that he’d been so distracted because he’d felt an unexplainable attraction… to a
human.
Isabel may be understanding about a lot of things and even push Max to live more, but when it came to developing personal relationships, she was even more disapproving and close-minded than Michael.
Even anticipating their reactions, he couldn’t bring himself to forget the brunette.
“You know, I think I might just take a quick drive by myself,” he murmured, squinting as he stared into the distance.
The sun was beginning to set, splashing the sky with vivid pinks and oranges.
Isabel raised a brow. “Where do you plan to go in
this town?” she wrinkled her nose. “It’s not exactly like LA… everything probably closes around six.”
“Maybe I’ll just go out in the desert,” he responded, already imagining himself laying on the hood of the Jeep, staring up at the stars in the summer night sky.
Wondering if one of them had been his home.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Isabel’s eyes narrowed, then rolled. “Whatever. Have fun.”
“Don’t let him mope around too much,” Max said, and caught Isabel’s gaze. “I know he was disappointed that last night’s search didn’t show up with anything.”
“He’s just setting himself up
for disappointment,” Isabel retorted, but her tone was worried instead of sarcastic. “I just wish he wouldn’t get his hopes up.”
“I know. Everything will be okay, like you said. Even if we never find out the truth, we have each other. That’s all that really matters.”
Isabel’s lips quirked. “Always the optimist.”
Max returned her half smile, then started the Jeep and backed back down the driveway.
On impulse, he headed back into town.
<center>********************************</center>
Liz stepped out of her white sneakers as she entered the small, cluttered living room. She felt dead on her feet, yet at the same time full of restless energy.
She headed down the hall towards the room she shared with her sister, passing the bedroom where her father snored drunkenly on the dingy bed, one foot hanging limply off the side.
She shut her eyes against the pain that came from seeing how much worse he’d become since her mother’s death. Every day seemed to be filled with more alcohol, more women.
The scent of cinnamon permeated the stale smoke that wafted from her father’s room, and she stepped inside her own room to find Tess typing away on the second-hand word processor Liz had found at a flea market two years ago.
Tess’s curly blonde hair was pulled into a haphazard knot on her head, wild ringlets escaping along her forehead. A pair of wire-framed glasses perched delicately on her nose as she squinted at the screen. Her fingers clacked quickly as she typed, murmuring to herself.
She wore a light pink shirt that reached mid-thigh and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers that had been a birthday gift from their father during one of his more lucid intervals.
All in all, she was the perfect picture of innocence. It made Liz smile.
She threw her purse on the dresser and started pulling off the awful turquoise uniform.
Only then did Tess seem to realize her presence. She slowed her typing, then looked over her shoulder and smiled. Removing the glasses from her nose, she blinked and regarded Liz. “Hi.”
Liz bent over to stretch, clad only in a pair of skimpy black briefs and a matching bra. She touched her toes and then reached for the sky, moaning as her muscles began to loosen. “Homework? In the middle of summer break?”
Tess nibbled her lips and yawned. “Summer reading. For AP English.”
Liz paused and gave her an incredulous look. “
Summer reading? Tess, you have got to be kidding me.
You are a nerd, sister dear.”
Tess didn’t take offense, simply smiled. “Long night? You have that look you had during the Orthodontist Convention last year.”
Liz groaned and flopped down on the bed dramatically. “Must you remind me? I had nightmares of the dentist for months. But no, I spent the afternoon catering to Pamela Troy and her nasty little groupies.”
Tess’s expression immediately melted into concern. “Did she say something to you?”
Liz shrugged, hiding her embarrassment and bruised feelings. Tess would only get upset and worry if she thought Liz had been hurt by anything the girls had said. And Liz would rather cut her own eyes out then upset Tess.
Her sister was naïve and Liz wanted her to stay that way. She loved Tess the way a fierce mother bear protects her cubs. She’d never let anything happen to her step-sister.
“It was just the usual, vapid insults and sneering grins,” Liz said in a casual voice. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Are you sure?” Tess asked worriedly. “I just don’t like the way she treats you. It’s so unfair. You’ve never done a
thing to Pamela Troy.”
Liz grinned at the outrage in her sister’s voice. “That’s the breaks, kid. Life is never fair, especially for a Parker or a Harding. Kyle asked about you again.”
Tess’s mouth fell open at the sudden change in subject. Her pretty face reddened and she looked down at her fingers. “What does he want?”
“He wanted me to tell you hi, he’ll see you the next time you come in, that he loves you and wants to give you your first born child…”
“
What?” Tess cried, clasping her hand to her chest. “He did not.”
Liz burst out laughing at the expression on Tess’s face. “Don’t act so shocked, Tess. Kyle Valenti’s a major hunk-of-burning-love, and he happens to be on fire for
you.”
“Me and the entire cheerleading
and dance teams,” Tess mumbled in response. “I don’t take him seriously.”
Liz thought back to the naked longing on Kyle’s face when he’d spoken of her sister, and cocked her head. “Maybe you should.”
Without giving Tess opportunity to disagree, she turned and sniffed the flickering candles sitting on the window ledge. “Mmm… apples and cinnamon?”
“Maria made it,” Tess replied, turning back to the computer. “She brought over a whole cache of incense earlier. I told her we weren’t planning on having a séance anytime soon, but she wouldn’t leave without it. So, apple cinnamon candles it is.”
Liz snickered. “Amy must have decided to have another yard sale.”
Maria DeLuca’s mother owned an aromatherapy store, and mother and daughter were both avid promoters of the healing powers of essential oils and burning incense.
“Sean also called and said he’d be by to pick you up around eight,” Tess shot Liz another look over her shoulder. “I told him you’d call to confirm.”
Liz slapped a hand against her forehead. “Shit! I
completely forgot about our date.”
Tess didn’t reply, but Liz felt her sister’s censure from across the room.
She knew Tess didn’t agree with the way she dated so many different young men.
It made her feel small to know her sister disapproved of her personal behavior, but at the same time she couldn’t make herself adhere to the rules Tess lived her life by.
Liz had spent her entire
life living for other people – first her mother, who had been diagnosed with cervical cancer at the young age of thirty, and then her father. When Jeff Parker had married the young and busty Michelle Harding a year after her mother’s death, Liz had immediately taken the woman’s quiet daughter under her wing.
Michelle may not have stuck around, but her daughter had been left behind.
She walked over and picked up the phone. After calling Sean, she pulled on a pair of tight cut-offs and a tank top, slipped on a pair of flip-flops and kissed her sister on the cheek before walking outside to wait for her latest boyfriend to arrive.
She’d never allowed Sean or any of the other boys she hung around with to set foot in her house. She didn’t want to expose them to Tess, or just how bad her life really was.
The house was in shambles, even with her and Tess working steady jobs to support themselves.
She leaned against the front gate, arms hanging over the fence as she slipped a cigarette out of a brand new pack and lit it.
She inhaled the nicotine with a grateful sigh, and immediately felt the drug’s calming effect soothing her system. Another drag, and she threw the cigarette on the ground and stomped it with her foot.
A breath mint later, she heard a horn honk as a car came flying down the street. She recognized Sean’s souped up Camero and headed out to the street to hop in as he pulled to the side of the curb.
He flashed her a sexy grin and cocked a brow as she slid in, then immediately pulled her across the gear shift for a hot kiss.
Liz allowed herself to melt into his skilled caresses, even as she held a part of herself aloof from him. She nibbled his lower lip.
Sean groaned. “Damn girl, you’re so hot for me. You wanna go back to my place? Parent’s are outta town.”
Liz hesitated, feeling a little sick at the idea of meaningless sex with Sean. Then again, it wasn’t something that she hadn’t done before. But it always left her feeling… used.
And worthless.
Even as she succombed hoping she’d find an ounce of happiness in another’s arms, she was always left feeling disappointed.
But as he ran a hand along her bare thigh, Liz forced herself to smile and nod. “Yeah. Sure.”
His face lit up and he quickly started the car.
<center>***********************************</center>
Max drove aimlessly along the darkened streets of Roswell, inwardly chuckling as he noticed that Isabel had been correct in her assumptions.
All the storefronts were dark; the signs in the windows proclaiming them
Closed.
As he passed the CrashDown café, he again thought of the lovely waitress. He slowed, taking in the large spaceship that served as a blinking sign for the restaurant.
Then he saw the figure walking down the road, arms hugged around a petite body.
He felt that same connection, and his heart rate increased as he pulled alongside her.
When his headlights bathed her in light, she turned and held a hand to her face, squinting at him. The movement caused her skimpy top to ride up, affording him with a view of smooth, taut belly. Coupled with the length of leg presented in the sinfully-short shorts, Max had to swallow against the heat that rose inside him.
Her eyes widened as she realized who he was.
When he stopped next to her, he leaned out to address her. “Taking a midnight stroll? Isn’t it kind of late to be out walking around?”
Her lips tightened and her eyes flared. “Should I ask
you the same?” she retorted nastily, and Max bit back a smile at her quick temper.
“True,” he conceded, then with a charming grin added, “but I’m driving.”
Her eyes narrowed and her mouth flattened impossibly more. “Fuck off, buddy.”
With those succinct words, she turned and continued walking down the dark road.
Max sat in surprised silence for all of ten seconds before he caught up with her, keeping the Jeep at a slow and steady cruise as she pretended to ignore him.
“Need a lift?” he offered, desperate to see her face again, as it was hidden by the long, thick curtain of her hair.
She snorted and kept on walking.
“Where do you live?” he tried again.
This time she turned to him with an incredulous expression. “You have
got to be kidding me. Do I have
stupid bimbo tattooed on my forehead? Listen, I’m not interested. Whatever you’ve heard about me, tonight it isn’t going to do you any good. So beat it.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “Should I have heard something?”
Liz glared at him. “I’m not going to sleep with you. So take your knight-in-shining-Jeep-Cherokee routine and find another damsel in distress, okay?”
She stared at him, as if she expected a resonse. But Max still felt as if he’d been clubbed over the head with her statement that she wouldn’t sleep with him.
When she rolled her eyes and started walking again, he quickly pulled himself together.
“All I want is to make sure you get home safe,” he answered honestly. “You can either ride with me, or I can follow you back.”
She faltered, then simply threw her hands up and stalked over to the car, making sure to slam the door as she got in. “Fine, you asked for it. Take me to Roadkill Avenue.”
Max grimaced. “Are all the streets around here so… colorful?”
Liz laughed at his expression. “Honey, you’re in
Roswell. Most of the places are named for something to do with aliens. My street just happens to have a high animal death-toll, otherwise I’d probably live on Vulcan Circle or Darth Vader Drive like all the other people in this crazy town.”
Max laughed. “They do seem slightly alien-obsessed around here.”
Liz smiled back, and suddenly they found themselves staring at each other.
They both flushed and looked away, Max gazing at the road ahead as she fiddled with a silver bracelet on her slim wrist.
“I’m Max Evans,” he said shyly, determined to break the awkward tension. “In case you wondered what to call your shining knight.”
That gained another short laugh from her. “Yeah. Right.” But she smiled. “I’m Liz Parker.”
“Well, Liz, why are you really out wandering the streets by yourself?” he asked in a light tone, following her directions to turn onto a bumpy road that appeared to lead to a section of town that could only be described as shabby at best.
Roadkill Avenue, indeed.
“I got dropped off by my… by a friend,” she corrected, frowning slightly.
That’s all she said.
Max wanted to press her for more, if simply to hear her breathy voice slide around him. But something in her expression warned him against pushing for the time being.
He pulled up in front of a small, dilapidated one-story brick home. The shutters hung from one of the windows and the front yard was badly overgrown with weeds. A pair of rusted trash cans lay against the side of the house.
Max swallowed hard. He was so used to the privilege that came with being Phillip Evans’ son, that he often forgot about what it was like to have nothing. He suddenly thought of Michael.
His brother would have called a place like this home, not even six years ago.
Her turned to Liz, unsure of what to say, and saw her staring at him with blatant challenge.
Her eyes dared him to pity her, so Max forced down the sadness and smiled brightly. "Well, here we are. I don’t suppose you’d let me walk you to the door?”
Her face registered shock, he assumed because he hadn’t made a comment about her home. Then she sighed in frustration.
“No, I can walk myself to the damn door. God, what century were
you born in?”
Max knew her snippish words were meant to hide her embarrassment, and he simply smiled. “My mother taught me to treat women with respect. Good night, Liz. I hope we see each other again soon.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks for the lift. You don’t have to wait around, I’ll be fine walking twenty feet.”
Despite her sarcasm, he waited until she was safely inside the door before he started the Jeep again and headed towards his own home across town, a smile on his face.
<center>
TBC.............</center>