Second Chances (UC, Z/L, Adult) (Complete)

[femmenerd]

Winner - Round 8




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Title: “Second Chances”
Author: femmenerd
Pairing: Liz/Zan, also features Isabel and Serena, Michael and Maria, and Ava
Rating: Teen to Adult
Disclaimer: I do not own Roswell. Not making any dollars off this.
Summary: This story follows canon up to but not including “Chant down Babylon.” Basically…Max dies in the fire and this story is set about five years later in New York City. Liz was pregnant by Max when he died and had a son who is now four years old. She lives with Isabel in NYC and is finishing her degree at Columbia and raising her son.
Warning: Isabel’s a lovely lesbian in this fic so if you can’t deal with that, then don’t read it.
Author's note: I recently discovered that there is another story with the same title as this one by Tesseract. I apologize for any confusion this may have caused - I was unaware of its existence at the time that I titled this story and I didn't mean to step on any toes. In case that is the story that you were looking for, it can be found in the dead and buried forum here.


Thank you so much to everyone who nominated this story!

Best Supporting Portrayal of Isabel Evans

Best Portrayal of a Dupe

Favourite Newcomer

Best Unconventional Couple Fanfic

Best Dupe Fic


Best Supporting Portrayal of Isabel Evans

Part 1

Central Park

“Max, honey, don’t run too far off. Stay where Mommy and Auntie Iz can see you. OK baby?”

Liz sighed and rolled her eyes, smiling as she sat back down on the park bench. Absentmindedly she rooted around in her purse before pulling out the notebook containing her notes from yesterday’s micro-bio class. She grabbed a stray hair elastic to pull back the wisps of brown hair that framed her face so she could read.

Liz’s hair was still shiny as a Breck girl’s just like it was when she was a teenager. The new layered cut that Isabel had forced on her revised her look a little but there was no helping the fact that she was still a tad on the conventional side as far as that stuff goes, Liz thought to herself. We can’t all be as fashionable as you Iz, she always retorted to her roommate and closest friend in New York. Isabel’s new salon “Trix” had become very successful and despite all the trend-obsessed clients drooling to have their hair done by the Isabel, Liz (and her hair) was still a pet project of hers. Isabel had really found her passion doing hair and she was good at it too (and she didn’t even use her powers…..much). It was all about reading people and figuring out how to make them look their best. It was performing a public service really if you thought about it - helping people feel good about themselves. Currently Isabel’s own hair was a smattering of multiple reds, oranges and blondes: a perfectly orchestrated chaos of curls and tendrils framing her face in two inch long pieces. It definitely paired well with her new red leather pants and black off-the-shoulder top.

Although not as showy as her compatriot and despite her own self-depreciating tone, no one would look at Liz Parker and think, “what a boring-looking woman.” She had a kind of non-assuming beauty, all the more pronounced because of the natural, unselfconscious way that she wore it. Even in jeans and a white T-shirt (like she was wearing today) she seemed to glow from within. In the years since her son was born, Liz’s ever youthful features had acquired a new maturity, while still retaining the same luminous quality. An inner strength tempered her, one that was always accompanied by the subdued sadness hiding in the wells of her chocolate brown eyes.

Looking across the bench at her friend, Isabel could see why her brother had loved Liz so much. She wished that she could have been more understanding about that when he was alive. It was only after his tragic death that she and Liz became close. They had both been so devastated and needed to get out of Roswell, away from the painful reminders. Not that little Max wasn’t a constant reminder to them both of his father. He was their pride and joy. All they had left of Max after the fire.

“Do you still have a lot of studying to do? If you want, Sarah and I can watch him so you can get some work done. I know this test is really important and everything.” Isabel’s question stirred Liz out of her studying frenzy.

“Oh Iz, isn’t it date night for you guys? I couldn’t do that! Haven’t you got something hot and heavy planned,” Liz grinned as she watched Isabel blush just the tiniest bit. If they didn’t know each other so well, she wouldn’t have even noticed it.

“It’s OK, it’s not like we’re still in the complete honeymoon phase or anything. We can help you out Liz.”

“I know. I know. It’s just that you help me so much with him. Just ‘cause I’m doomed to be celibate, doesn’t mean that you guys can’t enjoy yourselves….”

Isabel gave Liz a pointed look. “Liz. Do you really want to open that can of worms right now? You already know what my thoughts are. He was my brother, for heaven’s sake, and even I don’t think that you need to completely forsake the possibility of falling in love again or shit, even dating a bit, in order to honor his memory.”

Liz sighed and looked over at her four year old son busily playing next to a nearby tree. It was fall and the leaves had started to change, falling and scattering in the grass. It seemed so amazing to Liz sometimes how this oasis could exist in the middle of the crazy, hectic city. His dark hair was curling up at the ends into those little cowlicks she loved so much. It hadn’t been easy – going to college full-time, raising a kid….but she wouldn’t trade him for anything. And with Isabel and Sarah around now, she felt so much less alone.

Looking up at Isabel with a silly grin that said “let’s change the subject,” she poked her friend in the ribs and said, “So what you’re saying is that you’ll do it, huh. I get to have an exciting night of uninterrupted science nerd time.”

“Yeah, babe. That’s what I’m saying,” Isabel smiled back, flashing her perfect smile and fluttering her eyelashes teasingly…apologetically. Liz’s apparent refusal to get out in the world was a bit of a sore subject and she didn’t feel like arguing on such a glorious fall day as this.

Although she still hadn’t lost her toughness, Isabel had softened somewhat since she met Sarah two years ago. Her divorce from Jesse had come soon after Max’s death and both had hit Isabel pretty hard. She had just felt like a failure, as a wife, a sister… But after moving to New York to join Liz and baby Max Isabel had found herself free to explore things about herself that she never would have been able to back in New Mexico. It was a new start. Deep inside she had always known that she was attracted to women but her life in Roswell hadn’t been exactly conducive to that. Not only was Roswell a REALLY small town but she wasn’t exactly in a position to be “different” or call attention to herself on the level that coming out in high school would have entailed. Plus, the only girls she ever had any real, honest contact with were dating her brother and her almost brother for Pete’s sake.

Sarah. Now Sarah was the best thing that had ever happened to Isabel. She was smart and talented (a chef at a four star restaurant!) and beautiful. God, was she beautiful, with her crazy-green eyes and black, black hair (which she wouldn’t let Isabel color but that was OK). She was lean and lanky while Isabel was curvaceous but they fit together so well…

Suddenly something shocked Isabel out of her reverie. “Maxie, what are you doing over there?” Both women immediately leapt to their feet and ran over to the vicinity of the trees when they heard the little boy’s cry. By the time that they reached him he was wiping the tears from his pink little cheeks. He grabbed Liz’s arm and looked up at her with wonderment in his gold-flecked brown eyes, residual tears still collected in his long girlish lashes.

“I fixed him Mommy. I fixed the squirrel. He was broken and it was so sad but I fixed him.”

An electric bolt of astonishment hit both Liz and Isabel simultaneously as they looked at one another knowingly. So he did have his father’s powers. They had almost given up on that possibility. From the day he was born it had been expected (at least by those in the know about his alien heritage) that he would inherit Max’s powers. After all, it was his presence in Liz’s womb that had caused her strange outbreak of hybrid powers during the winter of 2002. And people complained about morning sickness, she had remarked when she finally figured out what was happening. Figured it out too late, she thought bitterly. If only she had known she was *just* pregnant when she left Roswell for Vermont, she would have stayed instead. Maybe she would have been there with him, could have stopped it somehow…. But this was pointless speculation now. Liz shook her head and searched for the right words to say to her little boy. How could she let him know that he was special while also keeping him from endangering himself (and his beloved auntie and Uncle Michael) by saying too much to the wrong person? God, she wished Max were here now. He, at least, had had experience having that kind of power over life and death. But Max was gone……

[femmenerd]

Part 2

He could see how worried she was; it was written all over her face. But there wasn’t shit he could do about it right now. There definitely wasn’t anything he could do to help her with her bio test – that she could handle on her brilliant fuckin’ own…..but that wasn’t the real issue anyhow.

Standing in the deepening shadows outside the library window he watched as she pored through the books surrounding her, practically engulfing her spot at the old, wooden table. Periodically she would raise her hands to her temples and rub furiously, shaking her head with nervous energy, getting up every once in awhile to pace a bit through the stacks before plopping herself back down in her chair.

It wasn’t just the test that was getting her. That was for sure.

Zan rifled through the pockets of his faded black Carhart work pants, uncovering several empty packets of matches enscripted with names like “Samantha” and “Desiree” as well as some clumps of lint before he got to his tobacco pouch. He had to take his eyes off her in order to pull out a rolling paper and some shag but he soon latched his gold-flecked eyes back on her petite frame as he deftly rolled the cigarette between his thumb and fingers. His hands were large and rough, still stained with grease from when he was workin’ on his bike that afternoon. He licked his lips before trailing his tongue along the edge of the cig to seal it. When he struck the match the quick flash of light brought his handsome features into sharp relief before his face was again subsumed into the comforting darkness of the autumn night. Zan squinted as he took the first drag, inhaling deeply.

She didn’t really need his help that much anyway, he thought to himself. Especially if she would just use all that power seething within her. Zan was persistently confused by the way that Liz denied her own abilities, kept them buried deep inside. He wasn’t even sure if she knew what was there.

But a promise was a promise and a dude’s only as good as his word or mind connect or whatever. Zan never did lay eyes on his dupe but the day Max died had rocked his whole friggin’ world forever.

He’d been nursing the emotional wounds of Lonnie and Rath’s betrayal in the only way he knew how – closing off and kicking ass - walking the streets alone at night, keeping to the shadows, looking for an excuse for a good fight. It wasn’t too hard to find somebody doing someone else wrong and then he could justify his need to squeeze his anger out somehow. No matter what – he wouldn’t let himself stoop to the level of his betrayers. He needed it raw but at least he could find a way to help somebody out every once in awhile as well. But he always left before anyone knew what had happened. With his daily uniform of all black and his alien powers combined, it was easy to dissolve into the night.

He’d been searching for a purpose and Max’s “final transmission” had given him one whether he was prepared for it or not. As long as he could remember, snippets of Max’s dreams had filtered into his mind while he slept. They were just whispers really, tastes of another man’s life. But the moment that Max died, Zan’s brain had been flooded – and now it was as is if he was wearing the imprint of someone else’s life. They weren’t the same – he could feel that – but the connection was strong. Now he carried all of Max’s memories within him and more…..

Somehow when Max died, his soul or whatever had let out a cosmic scream – not for his own death but for those that he was leaving behind, for Liz and the child that would never know his father. It was a call that only Zan heard – wordless but with great meaning. All he knew was that from that moment on he had felt the drive, the compulsion to watch over Liz and little Max. He’d fought it at first – who the hell were they to him anyways?

But he couldn’t stop. And eventually what had begun as a labor of honor to a brother (?) he’d never met had turned into…something else.

But he never let Liz know that he was watching. Never let her see him. He wasn’t totally sure why. Rationally, he said that that it was because it would have hurt and confused the fuck out of her but there was more to it than that and deep inside he knew that that was true.

“Women like that don’t get down with dudes like me.”

She wasn’t like the other women that he knew but then he was sure that she wasn’t like any other woman in the world.

The way that her whole face lit up when she smiled made him crazy. Made him feel electrified and out of control. Which was just not a fucking option. Being in control of his world, his destiny was his fuckin’ bread and butter. He had vowed to himself never again to let anything get him to loosen his grip on himself – not myths or pipe dreams about alien friggin’ royalty, not assholes like Rath and Lonnie, and certainly not this walking daydream of a brunette beauty across the glass from him inside the library.

But he watched over her all the same……..

For awhile he hadn’t talked to anyone, just kept completely to himself except when he was prowling the streets vigilante-style or bumping up against random girlies at night.

But then Ava had found him again and so shit was somewhat different now. They lived together in an old converted warehouse. It was kinda run down and bizarre but the rent was cheap and they always managed to come up with the cash between Zan’s part-time work fixin’ bikes and cars at the garage down the street and Ava’s more lucrative work at a local strip joint.

Stripping gave Ava a way to make maximum cash in relatively short hours so she had lots of time to play with her various boy toys and make weird art at all hours of the night. Sometimes she would cruise with Zan and fight the good fight (girl was little but tough) but he still went out by himself the majority of the time.

So now he wasn’t completely alone and in spite of himself, he knew it was probably better that way. According to Ava, no matter how fuckin’ tough you are you still gotta at least share some air with other peeps once in awhile.

And she understood and didn’t try and make him talk too much, which was good. He could trust her and things were so much better now that they didn’t even pretend to be lovers anymore. Back when they used to fuck and there was this whole previous life alien king and queen mumbo jumbo in the air, everything was a whole lot weirder. He wasn’t sorry or anything. They’d had some times and they both had learned a lot about how to maneuver another person’s body to make it feel alright… but it just didn’t make sense to pretend that it was ever gonna be something that it wasn’t.

“Fuck destiny!” Zan thought to himself as he stubbed out his smoke with the heel of his worn steel-toed boot, grabbed his helmet and got ready to take off. He gave one long last lingering look at Liz. “See ya later Princess,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled the shiny, black motorcycle helmet over his dark, spiky hair, pulling the strap underneath his goatee.

Zan knew that the boy’s powers had begun to awaken – he could feel it somehow. But there was nothing he could do about this one without revealing himself. He needed more time to case the situation. Shit, what would happen if she knew?

*****************************

Liz yawned and stretched her arms over her head. How many hours had she been in this place anyway? Her eyelids were getting heavy in spite of her best intentions and she was beginning to think that it was time to go home. She was pretty sure that she had crammed as much into her brain as was going to fit at this juncture. Plus she needed to get home to take little Max off of Isabel’s hands.

Thank god for Izzie. I never would have been able to make it through without her, Liz thought. She really was blessed with some awesome friends. Maria and Michael, even though they had stayed in Roswell, came to visit pretty often and were constantly writing and calling – or Maria was anyway, but Michael always scribbled a note at the end or waited patiently for Maria stop yammering before he got on the line to say hello. They were really busy running the bar/music lounge they’d opened up together, not to mention the amount of energy it must take out of them to love each other so hard while also bickering all the time, Liz mused wryly. But they made time. And Kyle was just a couple hours away in Boston. I’m gonna call ‘Ria tomorrow, Liz thought. She’s my oldest friend and she loves nothing better than to give advice. Maybe she can help me figure out what to do about Maxie.

Liz was drawn out of her thoughts by the feeling of prickles going up the nape of her neck. This happened from time to time and she couldn’t explain it but she could swear that someone was watching her. God, I’m getting paranoid, she thought to herself. Too many years being all mixed up with aliens.

******************************

Zan zipped up his beaten up leather over his black hooded sweatshirt and took off running. His movements were swift and agile, like a panther. Blending in was his specialty. In no time, he got to his bike and hopped on. She was a beautiful machine and the only material object that he really gave a shit about. Black to match, 2003 Suzuki Bandit – kind of a crotch rocket but a dude’s gotta get places fast, ya know? He revved up the engine and they were off, tearing through the deserted New York streets, making distance between him and the woman he couldn’t help fantasizing about……no matter how hard he tried to stop.

[femmenerd]

Part 3

Someone else was watching Liz as she trudged to the bus stop laden down with her tattered green backpack practically bursting at the seams with books. Someone with far less honorable intentions.

This mission was going to be even more difficult than he had anticipated. Not only did he have to deal with the kid’s mother and her roommate the hairdressing Antarian princess but now the dead King’s dupe was a part of the equation as well. It had always been clear that this was going to be a delicate operation but now the time table was going to have to be sped up a bit – couldn’t risk the possibility that the gutter King would finally step up to the plate and join up with the Roswell woman and the Heir. Now that was a combination that could really throw a wrench in the plan.

Liz rounded the corner and went out of sight, loping tiredly into the distance as Nicholas stepped out from behind the large white van parked across the street from the library. The hard glint in his eyes and the nasty sneer that spread across his face as he watched Liz saunter away seemed incongruous and out of place on his youthful countenance. Although the fact that he remained forever trapped in the body of an adolescent had worked quite efficiently as a smokescreen for the 50-odd years he’d spend on earth, it was a state of being that definitely had its drawbacks as well. With the ladies, for instance……

It might be a difficult mission but there was no way that Nicholas was going to give anyone an excuse to call him a failure ever again. That little blonde bitch Tess wasn’t going to laugh at him again. He still couldn’t believe that he’d allowed the watered down version of the former King’s prissy wife take him down before. But that was then and this was now. He gritted his teeth and flexed his jaw. There was work to be done.

*****************************
“The little prince is sleeping now so I have you all to myself.”

Isabel grinned lasciviously at Sarah with her smile big and perfect like a dentist’s dream (or nightmare as the case may be). She wiggled her eyebrows in an exaggerated gesture and tossed her flame-colored locks, causing Sarah to erupt into laughter.

Isabel sauntered seductively towards the couch where Sarah was splayed out surrounded by scraps of paper and cookbooks, her long black hair held up in a loose bun with a pencil. As Isabel approached, Sarah looked up at her through brilliant green eyes and instinctively caught her breath.

Sarah still couldn’t entirely believe her luck. When she had first gone to Isabel’s salon on a friend’s suggestion she had already heard tell of the goddess in the body of a stylist but nothing could have prepared her for the effect that Isabel had on her. Sarah had been around the block a few times with men but it had never really worked for her, ya know? She was relatively quiet and unassuming, not so much shy as introspective. She’d never really been able to open up to the men she’d been with and she had always figured out that that was the reason that she hadn’t been able to really, um, experience her sexuality to the fullest, so the speak. She had heard her friends talking about climaxing and whatnot but until she met Isabel, she hadn’t really known what she was missing! Was it really like this for other women? Just thinking about it made her eyes glaze over a tiny bit and she wet her lips in anticipation.

Reaching the couch, Isabel leant over to meet Sarah’s waiting lips and as she did the tops of her full breasts (nearly overflowing from her snug scoop-necked top) became positioned directly in Sarah’s line of view. Sarah felt a wave of heat rush straight through her from her toes to her face; she could feel her cheeks burning as she lowered her eyelids in pleasure.

Sarah’s mouth tasted sweet and hot. Isabel found herself landing unceremoniously on the couch as she and Sarah became entangled in a quickly intensifying embrace. She felt the blood coursing furiously through her veins, a pulse, a rhythm throbbing in her nipples, her core.

This was the woman for her. The one who could make her delirious with desire at one moment and blow her mind the next with that quiet grace and soulful intelligence. When she was with Sarah, Isabel didn’t feel different or wrong; she just felt cherished. Would it still be that way if she knew the truth?

Isabel pushed the question away as she dissolved into Sarah’s fervent kisses. Menu planning completely forsaken, the pair were soon horizontal against the couch cushions, legs entwined, hair (both black and red) like a tornado, hands seeking soft and supple destinations……

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.”

Liz blushed and averted her eyes as she threw her keys down on the table and closed the door to the apartment behind her.

Isabel and Sarah both sat up quickly and tried to straighten up. Isabel laughed a little, self-consciously.

“Oops, sorry Liz. Got carried away fast.” Sarah was silent, feeling mildly mortified as Isabel bantered with her friend.

“Don’t worry about it ladies. I’m just happy that you’re happy. How was my little man this evening? Did he cause any trouble?”

“As usual, our sweet prince was an excellent host. Showed Sarah a real good time drawing pictures together. He’s passed out now though.”

Isabel grinned and affectionately tucked a stray lock of hair behind Sarah’s ear.

“Oy, that’s where I need to be pronto if I’m gonna be in any shape to do well on my test tomorrow. I’m just gonna peek in on my boy and then hit the hay. Goodnight pretty ladies.” Liz sighed with exhaustion as she walked down the hall to the little room adjoining her own.

Careful not to wake her son, Liz tiptoed into the room toward the twin bed by the window. The little boy was sleeping soundly, his breath heavy and regular. He was lying on his side clutching his pillow, arms and legs tangled up in the bedcovers. As Liz looked down on him her heart flooded with pure love. As she gently stroked his soft little cheek she marveled to herself that something so amazing could have come out of her small, ordinary, Liz Parker-shaped body. He was the reason that she kept her chin up every day, no matter how hard it got. After Max had been taken from her, initially she had collapsed in on herself, in so much grief that she could hardly think. But something had clicked when she found out that she was pregnant. He gave her a purpose bigger than herself, and she had known then as she knew now that falling apart was a luxury you could no longer afford when you were someone’s mother.

Especially if you were the mother of boy who unwittingly was the heir to the throne on a planet he’d never even heard of. A sense of trepidation fell heavily on Liz as she gazed at her son’s face, so like his father’s with his deep brown eyes (closed now) and slightly outturned ears.

She pulled the blankets back to cover him and after giving him a kiss on the cheek she got up as quietly as she could and walked back to the doorway. Leaving the door open a crack, she paused for a moment, pondering the unknown dangers lurking outside the cocoon of her and Isabel’s little nest. All she knew was that she would do anything in her power to keep her little boy safe.

[femmenerd]

Part 4

Isabel’s eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep. A slow smile crept across her features as memory fragments of last night’s sexual escapades flooded her mind, still drowsy and warm with love. She closed her eyes again and burrowed under the comforter so she could savor her remembrances while still in that magical half dream/half awake state where anything was possible and day-to-day responsibilities didn’t exist.

It’s not just the doing, it’s also the daydreaming and the reliving that make the first stages of love so all encompassing, she had mused at another, more coherent, moment.

Right now, all that she could think about was the way she felt when she was with Sarah. The way her body responded, flooding with heat at the slightest touch. How she felt out of breath sometimes just looking into Sarah’s gorgeous green eyes. The way their limbs fell together into a tangle of girl parts, moving with such urgency, hands groping desperately, lips and tongues discovering hidden treasures. God, nothing had ever felt so right as it did to give pleasure to this golden creature lying across the bed. There really was no better sight than watching Sarah come, her soft sighs and moans like music to Isabel’s ears. And there was no better knowledge than the fact that it was her, Isabel, who could make Sarah feel that way, or that she was the one that got to see Sarah arch her slender back and toss her raven black hair with such abandon. And then there were the things Sarah could do to her…

Sarah shifted on the other side of the bed and the sound of the rustling bedding knocked Isabel out of her reverie. Her cheeks slightly pink, still feeling flushed from her daydreams, Isabel rolled over in order to spoon Sarah. As she placed her hand across Sarah’s smooth belly, Isabel felt the familiar electric shock that was soon followed by the invasion of a quick succession of images: Sarah as a little girl learning how to bake cookies with her grandmother, as a teenager going skinny dipping at night with a group of friends, then….someone menacing – male – somewhere out of sight, gruffly calling Sarah by an unfamiliar name, “Serena.”

Isabel sat up, feeling disturbed and confused. She knew because of the connection that the shadowy figure in the flash had been referring to Sarah and she could feel Sarah’s fear and anger in that moment. Her immediate reaction was concern for Sarah’s safety, which was quickly followed by a deep sense of hurt that Sarah was keeping something from her.

God, I’m such a hypocrite, Isabel thought to herself. She doesn’t even know she’s bedding down with an alien.

The flashes themselves were always a reminder of the guilt that she felt for keeping her “true identity” a secret from Sarah. She knew that Sarah wasn’t getting flashes from her or at least Sarah (or was it Serena?) had never said anything about it so Isabel thought it was safe. It made her ache inside to hold back from Sarah, to keep herself in check so that the flashes would only go one way.

Her friends all seemed to think she should fess up to Sarah. Isabel was especially amazed that even Michael, who’d always been so suspicious of outsiders, didn’t seem to mind the risk. But coming clean hadn’t worked out so well the last time. Jesse had never really been able to accept who she was. He tried, but at heart he was too much of a sweet, regular guy to deal with all the chaos and danger that being married to an alien can produce. But all of that had really dropped off in the last few years and they were all enjoying lives relatively free of “alien drama.”

Suddenly the alarm clock went off, loud and insistent, causing Sarah to jolt awake.
She rubbed her eyes and rolled over to meet Isabel face to face.

“Hey lover, nice to see ya.”

Isabel forced herself to rein in the hurt that she was feeling. She didn’t want to do or say anything she’d regret until she’d had a chance to process this new information. She gave Sarah a quick morning kiss before she got up and pulled on a sweater and jeans over her “pajamas” – a white cotton tank top and black panties.

“Hey, where are you going?” Sarah mewled plaintively.

“Gotta go wake up the kid. We’re supposed to drop him off at preschool, remember? Liz left early to get in a little studying before her test.”

“OK, I’ll be up in a sec,” Sarah watched thoughtfully as Isabel walked to the door. She could feel a slight chill coming from her lover and she hoped that nothing was wrong.

******************************

A slow rivulet of sweat caressed Zan’s skin, running down the contoured lines of his lean, muscled chest, barely missing the ring in his right nipple, gliding across the various tattoos on his sculpted abdomen. His breath was ragged and forced as he let out a labored grunt and a gasp.

He could feel the heat coursing through his veins. He relished moments like this when he was able to surrender his thoughts and revel in the pure physicality of living inside his body, moments when he just felt alive in the purest sense.

Panting, Zan put down the barbell and began to stretch out his arms, feeling the slight burn in the sinews of his muscular biceps and forearms. He winced a little bit from the bruise on his side – a little keepsake from last night’s little run in outside the club.

Zan often opted not to use his healing powers on the various scrapes and bruises he picked up along the way, choosing instead to feel the pain. There was just something about it that felt real, ya know? It made him feel human, or something. But he still healed faster than the people around him. It wasn’t that he was trying to punish himself or anything, he just wanted sometimes to feel what everyone else felt. If anything serious happened, of course he’d fix it.

It was the same thing with his tattoos. Obviously he could have just used his powers and altered the appearance of his skin with a simple wave of a hand. But instead he chose “the old fashioned way” ‘cause he wanted to experience the whole process. It was a ritual, a way that he could mark his own body to commemorate the passing of events, to remember.

This bruise wasn’t too bad though. Those bastards had been weak and cowardly. No wonder they were ganging up on a defenseless kid whose only mistake was being in the wrong alley at the wrong time. When he had come home that night, Ava had rolled her eyes at him.

“Went out looking for a bad time again, I see,” she had said with a smirk.

Actually he hadn’t been looking; he just stumbled upon those assholes when he left the club to take a piss ‘cause the John inside was busted. All he’d wanted was to go and lose himself in the mixture of noise, youthful abandon and adrenaline that can always be found at out of the way punk shows.

He looked up at the clock on the wall, almost 9 AM. Pretty soon he’d have to open the garage and start working. George, the mechanic he worked for was already in the other room, tinkering with something. George let Zan keep his weights in the back. That way, if things were slow he could always go do a few sets just to keep the blood pumping.

A few minutes left still though. Zan laid back on the bench and settled into his thoughts, which inevitably drifted towards her. Liz had seemed so worried last night he couldn’t get her off his mind. Not that he usually could anyway. In fact, he’d had a particularly vivid dream last night starring one Ms. Elizabeth Parker and some kind of fruit. He could feel a stirring in his groin at the very thought of it.

“Hey Zanny boy, get ya ass in here and help me out,” George’s deep baritone rumbled through the garage.

“What’s the matter old man? There something ya can’t handle?”

“Nah, I’m just friggin’ busy right now so hop to.”

“Hold yer horses, Pops. Ah be out in a sec.” Zan sighed and wiped his hands off on his work pants.

“Hey boy, not in a sec, I mean pronto.”

“Aiight. I’m there.”

Zan picked himself up off the bench and reached for the dark work shirt with his name emblazoned on an off-white patch, slipping his arms in. He was just about to button the first button when he opened the door that led to the main area of the garage.

But his hands dropped heavily to his sides at the sight that greeted him in the next room. There not ten feet away from him, looking slightly frazzled yet completely and utterly gorgeous, was Liz Parker. The blood rushed to his brain, pounding against his skull. They locked eyes and he couldn’t breathe. He’d never been this close to her before and it was making every hair on his body prick up.

Liz, who’d been saying something or other to George before she looked up at Zan, immediately felt her jaw drop. Her face turned pale and she stopped mid-sentence and stared.

“Whatsa matter girl?” George asked after about a few million pounding heartbeats went by, “yous look like ya saw a ghost.”

[femmenerd]

Part 5

Zan.

That’s what the name tag said, in clear black lettering. That’s what the grumpy mechanic had called this apparition with the familiar face. Familiar yet at the same time so unlike the boy-lover who had been taken from her all those years ago when she was barely more than a child herself.

Liz couldn’t believe her eyes. Her heart was pounding so loudly that it seemed impossible that the two men couldn’t hear it echoing through the stuffy air of the garage. She felt as though time had stopped.

He was a perfect replica of Max – the same soulful brown eyes, the ears protruding at a rakish angle (but not enough to mar the beautiful symmetry of his proud head), the sculpted features and muscular physique. But this was not a boy standing before her in a partial state of undress; he was every inch a man.

There was a harder edge to him, and it was clear that it didn’t come exclusively from the bad boy window dressing – the piercings in his eyebrow and his nipple, the tattoos adorning his glistening frame. No, this was a man who had been weathered by hard times, by pain and struggle. In the wells of his beautiful eyes she could see a chasm of pent up emotion. Hard, yes, but not unkind. There was compassion in there as well.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only seconds, Liz cleared her throat and tried to speak. But nothing came out.

Luckily she was saved by the ever effusive George.

“Lady’s got a dead battery, boy. Why don’t ya earn ya keep and haul out da tow truck and give ‘er a jump.”

George shook his head inwardly. He was used to Zan having this kind of effect on the females but this was quite something. The girl looked like she’d been struck dumb which was especially notable considering that she’d been freakin’ out before - quite vocally, in fact.

“Yer da boss,” Zan mumbled tersely, averting his eyes from Liz. He half expected her to run for the hills. In all the time that he’d been, well, not meeting her, this was never how he’d imagined they would meet. It was too fucking ordinary, unplanned and, shit, he wasn’t even really dressed.

He quickly buttoned up his shirt and made his way towards the exit…and towards Liz, trying to ignore the way that his entire body was pulsing, humming with the knowledge of her close proximity.

As he approached where she was standing in shocked immobility, they once again locked eyes, hers confused and dazed, his issuing a silent plea with her not to freak out in front of his boss.

“Let’s go then.” Although his tone was subdued she felt his voice reverberating through her every pore.

“Oh-Okay.” Getting the single word out seemed like an incredible feat to her but in spite of her current inability to speak, years of dealing with alien intrigue had conditioned her to save the mental breakdowns for when one was not in the presence of unsuspecting humans.

Zan led the way out of the garage into the street where the tow truck was parked conveniently on the curb. Following behind him, Liz found herself transfixed by his surefooted gait.

Finally as they got close to the truck, she found her voice again and a flood of questions began to erupt.

“What…how…who?”

Zan swung around suddenly and looked her square in the eye.

“Look, you know who I am. Now just get in the truck, aiight.”

At that, he opened the heavy door and pointed for her to climb in, rushing to the driver’s side himself.

As soon as he was seated, he proceeded to push his forehead into the steering wheel.
“Fuck…I can’t believe this. OK, I’m sorry I just got all aggro and shit on ya but I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“Oh and I was.” Liz felt her temper flare up just a bit. “So you’re Max’s dupe, right? But how can that be true? I thought your sister and Rath killed you…”

“Well they fuckin’ tried aiight. But I guess I’m like a cockroach that way – I’m hard ta kill.”

Zan raised his head up slowly, testing the waters with a kind of slow half-smirk.

“That truck woulda killed me if it had hit me straight on but I was lucky, when I tripped and fell I landed in between the line ah the wheels. Somehow I was able ta grab on underneath. That was one wild fuckin’ ride. I was messed up for weeks. But whatever, I’m in one piece now.”

She can see that underneath his bravado, he still wears scars…wounds much worse than any his body could possibly endure.

“But now at least I know those traitors for what they really are…and I’ve still got Aves.”

“Ava…she’s here, in New York?”

“Um, ya. She came back ta town about a year ago. We found each other by chance at a show…”

Suddenly a flood of recognition washed over Liz. She couldn’t believe it had taken her so long to think of it, but she was finding it incredibly hard to form coherent thoughts, what with the bizarreness of the entire situation, that and the unnamable reaction that she was having to his presence. There was something about him that was making her feel so…so electrified. It’s because he looks like Max, she said to herself, almost convincingly. That’s it.

Liz shook her head, trying to loosen the grip that these feelings seemed to have on her rational sense. She swung her head around to face him, hair wild and eyes flaming.

“Wait a minute buster. You said that I knew who you are. That means that clearly you know that I know how to know who you are, you know?”

He sighed and rubbed his temples. As he raised his hand to his face, Liz couldn’t help but observe the muscle definition in his tanned forearms, how sturdy and strong his wrists looked. Shit, what’s wrong with me, she wondered to herself.

“OK, ya. I knew you was my dupe’s woman. What of it?” He said defensively, swallowing hard; he was overcompensating ‘cause he didn’t want her to see how he was twisted up in knots inside.

“Look, it’s an alien thing I guess. When your precious Maxie-boy died, something happened and I just knew, aiight.”

There was a pause between them, the silence thick and muggy inside the truck.

“Look, I didn’t know the guy but I’m…I’m sorry princess, seriously.”

Well, I didn’t know him while he was alive, but who’s splitting hairs, Zan thought to himself. He didn’t want to freak her out with too much information at once. The softer statement flowed out of his mouth seemingly without his volition. His tone had changed from the harsh tenor of the previous moment.

Zan felt like there was a knockdown drag-out brawl going on inside of him. Contrary to anything he had ever done before, every fiber of his being told him to grab onto her and never let go. Yeah, that’d go over well, he smirked to himself wryly.

“Um thanks?” Liz didn’t quite know how to react. After a beat, she added, “So, now that absolutely nothing makes any sense, what should we do now?”

“Go fix yer car, I guess.”

******************************

Slowly, Serena got to her feet, yawning and stretching her arms as she arose. It had been a rough night – the nightmares were back and they were getting worse. She had no idea what that meant and it completely freaked her out.

It freaked her out even more than what Isabel would do if she found out who “Sarah” really was. She had never meant to get this close, never meant to get so involved with the rightful King’s sister. But she just couldn’t help it. It had been such a lonely life for her growing up in the palace, feeling isolated from everyone. Never before had she connected with someone the way that she had with Isabel.

Even if they were both holding back. Serena couldn’t blame Isabel for not telling her about her alien status. She could definitely identify with just wanting to get away from it all, to subsume oneself in the simple, uncomplicated joys of being “human.” And Serena knew that Isabel wanted to tell her. She could feel it in the flashes. But she knew that Isabel wasn’t ready and so she played dumb, pretended that what was happening to them both wasn’t really there.

It was a dangerous game she was playing, opening herself up at all. As a trained telepath, Serena was able to have a great amount of control over her mind but this thing with Isabel was testing her barriers more than ever before.

Suddenly Isabel rushed into the room, a look of sheer panic etched onto her lovely face. She was shaking uncontrollably as she collapsed onto the bed beside Serena.

“Oh my god. Oh my God. This is not happening.”

Serena was thoroughly alarmed. Catching Isabel in a tight embrace, she exclaimed worriedly, “What’s not happening? What’s going on, love?”

Isabel twisted her body to look up into Serena’s face, her tear-streaked eyes frantic.

“He’s gone, Sarah. Max is gone. Why would he have run off? No, he would never do that. Oh my god, was he abducted? Liz is going to kill me. Holy shit, why would someone take a little boy from his home in the middle of the night?”

Isabel’s words crashed out of her mouth at a rapid rate, so much so that she was practically out of breath.

Serena’s face clouded over. She clenched her delicate jaw, looking grim.

Her voice was steady but soft, “I think I might know why.”

[femmenerd]

Thanks so much Lovinguerin2much! BTW, I do write a lot, it's just mostly academic stuff. This is my first attempt at any kind of fiction since elementary school, so it's a totally new experience for me. Kinda flyin' by the seat of my pants. lol

And thank you to everyone else who has been leaving feedback. It's very much appreciated.

I had meant to include such an author's note when I posted the last part but I have a bit of a flu and it slipped my mind.

I've been trying to post new parts on Wednesdays and Saturdays. It's not written in stone but those are good days to look.

Thanks again,

Lucia aka "Femmenerd"

[femmenerd]

Thanks Abby for lighting a fire under my buns. lol

Once again, thanks for all the feedback everyone!

And now on with the show...

Part 6

Liz felt like a bit of voyeur as she watched Zan lift the hood of the little red Honda that she shared with Isabel. His movements were languid and so sensual that she felt embarrassed just standing there. Even with his work shirt fully buttoned, she could see the play of his muscles as he moved easily from the tow truck to her car, gathering supplies. He was so intent on the task at hand that it hardly seemed as if he noticed her at all and she felt awkward, as if she were a teenage girl gawking at a varsity sport event. It had been a long time since she had really looked at a man. About as long as it had been since she had gone to one of West Roswell High’s football games, she thought somewhat bleakly.

It wasn’t as if she’d consciously felt deprived – there was just so much else going on in her life: taking care of her son, going to school…. And the sensations she was feeling as she watched Zan work were similar but also different to those she had experienced as a girl, when she and Max had tumbled into a whirlwind driven by hormones and youthful dreams.

In spite of all the trials and heartaches and misunderstandings in the past, Liz treasured her memories of her and Max’s love, too brief as it was. It had been all consuming and beautiful and she had thrown herself into it in the way that we only do when we’re sixteen and nothing else matters. She would always be able to keep the knowledge that he had loved her completely; in times of darkness she could hold it in her mind’s eye like a precious jewel. But there was a part of her, buried deep in the recesses of her subconscious, that wondered what it was like to love and feel desire as an adult, to go to the places that she and Max had never had the chance to go…

The sun had come out and was beating down on them in a way uncharacteristic for October. In her tight black sweater and tailored pinstripe pants, Liz suddenly felt overdressed, in a variety of ways.

Zan slowly wiped the sweat from his brow. He could feel her eyes on him as he replaced her old, corroded battery with the new one he had taken from the cab of the tow truck. He was thankful for the task because it gave him something to do, something to keep him from just staring at her like a goon. What did she see when she looked at him? What did she feel?

******************************

A look of utter confusion clouded over Isabel’s face as she backed away from her lover.

“Wha…what are you talking about? What do you know? I don’t understand.” Her eyes moved frantically beneath her lashes, searching for an answer, a solution to this catastrophe.

Serena sighed heavily, her voice filled with trepidation as she prepared to speak. There was no way out now – she had to tell Isabel her secrets, for the sake of the little boy that they all loved and for the sake of so many others on the world she had tried to leave behind. But she was frightened of the anger and rejection that was to be expected. She should have known that this fantasy she was living in with Isabel was just a fragile oasis in the lonely desert that had been her life up until now.

“I had feared that something like this might happen. For someone so young he has a lot of enemies he knows nothing about. But then, he is the true heir to the throne of Antar and he bears the seal….”

Isabel looked as though she had been struck by lightning and reacted in turn as she shot up to her feet, towering over the smaller woman on the bed.

Voicing shaking but insistent, she stared down and asked, “Who the hell are you?”

Serena drew in her breath quickly, preparing for the worst, knowing that there was no turning back now. “My name is Serena and Khivar is my older brother…”

Isabel began pacing the room as she exploded, her arms flying wildly in the air as she gesticulated. “You’re a goddamned alien! Oh my god, you must think I’m so stupid. What the hell are you doing here? Did that bastard send you here to use me to…”

“NO!”

Isabel was momentarily stopped in her tracks by the intensity of Serena’s voice. It seemed impossible that a sound that big could come out of such a small and usually demure woman.

“Isabel, I would never do that to you. And I could never think that you were stupid. My brother…Khivar…he banished me. Said he couldn’t have a traitor in his midst. I had to leave.”

Serena was standing now too, her brilliant green eyes pleading with Isabel to look her way, to hear her, to believe her…

“We were orphaned when I was young and so he raised me. He was all I had and for the longest time I refused to believe that he really did the terrible things that I heard whispered about. But as I grew older, the truth became impossible to ignore. He is a cruel leader, a tyrant and the people live in fear. I was sheltered when I was young, never really leaving the palace, coddled and protected from the suffering outside the gates. God, I was so lonely Iz, but Khivar was obsessed with ‘keeping me safe’ or so he said. But I was curious and began to sneak out, made friends with some of the young people that worked in the palace. And so I began to see…”

Isabel had stopped moving and was simply staring at Serena as she unloaded her life story in rapid tones.

“And the more I saw, the more I became disillusioned with the man who raised me, sickened by him and it became harder and harder to pretend. I began working as a spy with the rebel movement, those who wish to topple Khivar and return to the old way of life, before forced labor and punitive taxes, before martial law…”

Serena’s words were beginning to sink in to Isabel. It was so much to take in all at once but despite how overwhelmed her brain was at the moment, she could tell that Sarah – no, Serena - was telling the truth. There was no mistaking the way that her fear and despair resounded in her soft voice.

Isabel grasped Serena’s wrist and forced her to look her in the eyes. “Who did this? Where have they taken him?”

“I don’t know precisely. Khivar has many people working for him and I’ve had no direct contact with anyone from home since I fled here 3 years ago. When I was found out, Khivar told me to leave immediately, that he would give me my life because I was his sister but that if I was ever seen again, he would have to kill me. The only other concession he gave me was the one-way capsule transport that got me here.”

“But why now? How long have they known about my nephew? And what threat is a little boy to grown men, or aliens I guess, on a planet a million miles away?”

“I don’t know how long they’ve known about Max but for at least three years. I was just beginning to find out about all of this when I was discovered and sentenced. There’s something about him that has Khivar terrified. I don’t think it’s an issue of what threat he is now; it’s more an issue of what he will become.”

Isabel’s mind was racing. It had been so long since she had tried to think about any of this alien stuff and now she felt flooded with all of the questions and uncertainty that she had repressed all these years.

“Then why didn’t Khivar try and take my brother when we were young?”

“There’s something about little Max that has Khivar more freaked out than he ever was by Max or Zan. I’m not sure what exactly, but from the snippets I was able to gather, I think it has something to do with Liz too.”

“Liz, Oh my god. How are we going to tell her? What are we going to tell her?” Isabel was suddenly knocked back into the urgency of the moment. She began to move towards the door…

“Isabel, wait, I know you must hate me but…”

Isabel turned back and looked at Serena, the full range of her emotions playing across her face. “I don’t hate you….Serena.” God, it was weird to call her that. Isabel felt as if she were talking to a stranger almost. “I’m confused and I’m scared and I don’t know what to think about so many things but I know one thing. Little Max is the priority right now. Him and Liz. And I’m going to need all the help I can get. I’m going to call Maria and Michael right now. We’re all going to need your help to find our boy and bring him back safe.”

[femmenerd]

OK here it is. Sorry that I was only able to squeeze out one chapter this week. Life, my boyfriend and my smutty side project fic got in the way….in that order.
Here we go……


Part 7

She could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on her as she moved, eyes entranced by her every gyration, yet they couldn’t really see her at all – they saw what she wanted them to see.

Ava smiled to herself inwardly as she grabbed the pole skillfully with her left hand, using the long, lean muscles in her legs to hold herself in place in the air, swinging around gracefully. She made it look so easy! That’s what the other girls always said, with more than a slight tone of envy in their voices.

She was wearing a black wig tonight, cut in a classic bob. Paired with some cat’s eye glasses, Mary Janes and a short plaid skirt, the wig helped Ava transform herself into every dorky guy’s secret librarian fantasy. The costume was clearly a hit with the crowd, if this evening’s tips were any indication. A fat wad of bills bulged inside her red satin garter, crinkling against the skin of her inner thigh which glowed white and luminescent under the flashing lights.

Men could be so easy, she thought to herself. So easily befuddled and conquered by the sight of a woman’s naked flesh. Hell, she made a living off of it, and a good one at that. Two nights a week at the club and she was able to pay her half of the rent and was then free to spend the rest of her time doing her own thing.

Five years ago she never would have had the balls to do anything like this. But things are different now, she congratulated herself. I’m not under anyone’s thumb now, Ava thought contentedly. Fuck Lonnie and her bullshit, always bossing me around.

Zan had been the only thing that had kept her soul alive back then but what it turned out she had really needed was a sharp kick in the ass and some time on her own to figure out her own worth. Ava marveled at what a sad, lonely kid she’d been back then. She was never gonna be the most outgoing girl in her regular life – she let out her inner diva on stage mostly – but no way would she ever let anyone walk on her again either.

It was that Liz girl back in New Mexico that started it all. She helped me when noone else would…even though I have the same face as her worst enemy. She restored my faith in humanity after those bastards tried to kill Zan.

Ava tossed the wig seductively as she leaned in towards a drooling customer, trying to shake the loathsome memory away with the movement of her head.

Ava had always wondered what happened to Liz anyway. After she had left Roswell, Ava had spent years traveling around, checking out this crazy world that they had crashed down on, before finally coming back to New York last year. Finding Zan here and alive had been a miracle and she was so glad to have him back – ‘cause he was her family, ya know? Thank god she’d been able to shake that freaky destiny thing off. It’s not good feeling like yer not what someone wants when you’ve grown up believing that was the way it was supposed to be. During her traveling years it had all started to make more sense. Some people are supposed to be together and some just aren’t and that’s OK. Her and Zan just weren’t – no reason for her to feel bad about it or nuthin’. That’s just how it was.

Plus, she was having such a good time with her various boy toys. Ava grinned at the thought. Zan teased her mercilessly about her harem, as he called it. But she just didn’t feel like the settling down type, or at least not yet, she thought. Zan on the other hand…

Despite his tough exterior, he was a one woman alien, she could tell. Shit, she knew him real good…‘cause he was her boy from waaaay back when, ya know?

Bet he woulda liked that Liz girl. Ava had stopped by Roswell awhile back, just to check in and see if Liz was still there but she had clearly split. Ava didn’t stick around to ask about her ‘cause she didn’t want to freak anyone out – her looking so much like Tess and all.

Hmmmm. And Zan’s dupe Max was gone now too. Dead. Ava only knew this ‘cause Zan had had a freaky nightmare a coupla weeks ago – yelling bloody murder in his sleep. When Ava had come into his room and woke his ass up, he had admitted to her that since his dupe died he had some kind of connection to him after the fact and so sometimes he would have dreams about Max’s life. Guess some fucked up things had happened to ol’ Maxie boy. Too bad, he’d seemed like an alright sort of guy. Kinda broody though. Just like our Zan, she thought, amused.

Zan had been acting kinda weird lately – preoccupied or something. Just yesterday they’d been at the kitchen table drinking coffee and Ava had mused aloud about how she wondered where Liz had ended up and Zan had been actin’ all twitchy-like. Then he changed the subject to something random that made no sense. Huh, wonder what his problem is. I swear, Ava thought, and people think that chicks are moody…

Her eyes cruised around through the smoky air of the club. Now, who looks like they want to stuff a load of twenties into this here garter?

One pair of eyes in particular rattled her; they were so intense. And, shit, he was just a kid. How the hell did he get past big Al at the door?

******************************

Nicholas smiled wickedly as her eyes drifted in his direction. So this was the former queen of Antar? Well, she certainly had her, ahem, charms.

His eyes appraised her with a calculating glint. This one could make a fine toy, he thought. That fool Zan wouldn’t even know what to do with a woman like that. Nicholas groaned; being trapped in this pubescent shell while still having the needs of a man was no picnic. So he, poor, long suffering Nicholas, deserved some kind of treat, considering all the crap he put up with for Khivar. Well, he better appreciate it this time…

And nothing would go wrong this time; he was utterly determined. The heir would be safely hidden until the time came. It had been a tricky proposition, stealing the boy so far ahead of schedule, but the signs had been clear – the child’s powers were quickly developing; there was no time to waste.

Nicholas licked his lips as he watched Ava’s hips move in rhythmic circles on the stage above him. He couldn’t risk trying anything with her yet…couldn’t do anything that might endanger the mission. But even if he couldn’t touch, he could still look.

******************************
“Oh my god, Michael. We’ve got to go. Like, right now.”

Maria’s hands were shaking as she put the phone down on its cradle.

“OK, babe. I’ve just gotta finish this one battle. Then we can talk. ‘Kay?”

“Michael, this is serious.”

Michael stared intently at the digitally animated warriors on the TV screen, his large hands moving quickly and precisely on the controller.

Maria got to her feet and moved swiftly across the living room to the couch where Michael was entrenched, still wearing his pajama bottoms, his light brown hair sprouting out of his head in soft peaks. Hands on her hips, she placed herself between her husband and the television set.

“Earth to Michael.”

“Dude, what’re you thinking, woman. The future of the planet is at stake here.”

“It’s Max. Liz’s son is missing. Isabel just called and she was totally freaking out. Said something about Khivar and a sister and….look, all I know is that we’ve got to get ourselves to New York. Pronto. It’s an alien thing so they need you. And it’s a Liz thing so they need me.”

“OK.” Michael’s voice was immediately serious.

Without another word, Michael rose to his feet and walked into the next room.

“What are you doing? We have to go. Holy Shit. Michael…”

Maria was wringing her hands as she spoke, getting more agitated every second.

Michael emerged from the bedroom a minute later wearing jeans, a black T-shirt and a pair of black Converse high tops. Even now she was still surprised sometimes by how quickly he did things like get dressed. Damn alien powers.

Michael walked straight towards where Maria was standing. As soon as he was in front of her, he raised his hand to her chin and lifted her face up, bringing a finger to her beestung lips before he kissed her abruptly, which apparently quieted her nerves - as evidenced by the look on her face when he pulled away.

“You crazy girl. Even heroes need to wear shoes. Get a move on.”

******************************

Regretfully, Zan started packing up his tools and putting them back in the tow truck. His task was over and now she would be leaving. It was all kind of awkward too. Would they see each other again? What should he say exactly? “Well, now that I’ve totally disturbed your life by showing up looking like a punker version of your dead boyfriend, wanna hang out some time?” Um, not so much.

He glanced over at her slender figure surreptitiously. She smiled at him tentatively, pushing her hair back behind her ear. His heart skipped a beat. Jesus man, get it together – you’ve seen beautiful women before. Quite a few of them in fact…

Their little exchange was rudely interrupted by the insistent ringing of Liz’s cell phone. Looking apologetic, she fumbled through her purse, finally finding it on the fourth ring.

“Umm, hello?”

Zan wiped the engine grease from his hands off on his pants. Man, he felt like a dirtball next to this goddess. Ava always said that he really had no idea how incredibly attractive he was. He knew that women liked him, always had, but being around Liz was a totally new experience. She wasn’t like other women. Obviously she had been into his dupe, but does lightning really strike in the same place twice?

“Iz…slow down. What are you saying to me?”

Zan’s ears pricked up. She sounded confused and upset. What was going on?

“I’ll…..I’ll be right home.”

Liz dropped the phone and it clattered onto the dirty sidewalk. Her face was stricken. She looked up at him with wild eyes.

“My son…my baby. He’s gone.”

She looked shaky, like she might fall down. Zan moved quickly towards her, holding her shoulders to steady her. At the touch of his strong hands, she looked up.

“I’m...I’m OK. Just...”

“I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

[femmenerd]

First of all, I want to give a shout out to everyone who has been posting feedback on this story: purpleant, magikhands, Liz86000, Emz80m, Smac, janesdilemna, desertskies, asabetha, LovinGuerin2much, mpls muse, Yonkersme, abbs007, Darknhauntinglove, cowlady and Alma, this means you!
You all have no idea how incredibly helpful and encouraging your words are to me.

OK so since I've been working on my new Dreamer Smut series Smoldering, I'll probably be updating this fic more like once a week instead of twice. However, I've been having a lot of new ideas for this story so you never know. My sweetheart is also working on a banner for this story so look for that in the near future.

Um, the cliffhangers. They just seem to keep happening. This fic has a mind of its own. Besides I need to keep y'all coming back for more. lol

Anyway, here we go...

Part 8

Zan rolled fitfully on the couch. He couldn’t sleep. It seemed impossible after all the unexpected events of the day. A jumble of thoughts sifted through his mind as he sat up on the plush red sofa that served as the focal point in Liz and Isabel’s living room.

It seemed so surreal to be here in her home, Liz’s home which was so different from any that he had ever known. It wasn’t that it was so fancy really, but more that it was creatively and lovingly decorated, so warm…so womanly. Full of color, with art posters in frames side by side with Liz’s son’s crayon masterpieces, various garage sale treasures scattered about in perfect harmony with the patterned throw rugs. Having grown up in the dank New York sewers, this homey little apartment seemed to exude a special kind of warmth to Zan. His own room was spare, utilitarian, containing just a mattress on the floor, a lamp and a small bookshelf. And the rest of the place was full of Ava’s sprawl, her art projects and her various items of clothing spread out all over the place.

Ava would probably be getting off of her shift sometime soon. He should probably call her and tell her where he was. Zan didn’t particularly relish the task, knowing that Ava would probably be pissed at him for not having told her that Liz was here in the city. But they could probably use her help; maybe Ava could pick something up with her crazy mind powers.

They had spent the day pretty much exhausting all of the usual human avenues one would use to find a lost child: going to the police, canvassing the neighborhood, putting up homemade flyers for blocks and blocks. After her initial shock upon hearing the news, Liz had turned into a whirlwind of determination. In spite of this Serena woman’s theory that the kid had been taken because of some political intrigue on the home planet, Liz had insisted that they investigate all the other possibilities first. Rather than cry or break down, she had gritted her teeth and set about planning the operation like a little general. But he could see that by the end of the day her defenses were down again as every attempt they had made was fruitless as of yet. No one had seen little Max. It was as if he had simply disappeared. According to the police, all they could do was wait.

Somehow Zan had found himself part of “they.” Without any real discussion he had become part of the search party but he guessed that they could use all the help they could get. In all the commotion, his presence seemed to be quietly accepted, at least by Liz anyway. Lonnie’s dupe was a little harder to read but she was apparently all caught up in the double whammy surprise of finding out that her girlfriend was an alien (and the sister of their long lost enemy no less) on the same day that her nephew went missing. A couple of times he had caught her looking at him out of the corner of her eye with a slightly bewildered, but not completely unkind, expression.

It had to be weird for her, he guessed, to suddenly be face to face with a strange man wearing her brother’s face. But not any fucking weirder than it was for him. Shit, at least her brother hadn’t betrayed her and left her to die in the gutter.

At the thought of Lonnie and her deception, Zan’s handsome features turned dark, an angry crinkle developing between his amber eyes. He pushed the feelings aside and stood up to stretch his legs.

He paced around a bit before finally walking over to the mantle where the girls had various photographs perched in a variety of mix-matched frames, more garage sale plunders no doubt. He caught his breath as he looked into the face of a dark haired boy with his arms wrapped around a laughing, teenaged Liz. Had he ever been that happy, that innocent, Zan wondered to himself. He picked up the frame to get a closer look, mesmerized yet at the same time made uncomfortable by the image. This was the boy in his visions, his doppelganger who had cried out to him from the grave, begging him to protect his love and his son. Well, you did a great fuckin’ job of that, Zan thought to himself accusingly.

He spun around when he felt her eyes searing him through the darkness, the picture frame falling to the floor as he caught sight of her standing across the room, wearing a knee length black T-shirt for a nightgown and an unreadable expression on her face. She took his breath away.

For a moment they stood silently staring at each other; then he caught his breath and muttered, “Shit, I’m sorry. If it’s broke I’ll get ya a new one.”

Zan reached down to recover the picture frame and saw how the glass had shattered across the teenaged lovers’ embrace.

“Don’t worry about it. It cost 25 cents.”

She was standing close to him and he inhaled her scent, feeling guilty about the way it made him feel.

Liz sighed and took the frame out of his hands, looking down at its contents with sad eyes.

“He never met his son.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Zan already knew that but he only nodded silently, looking regretfully at the raw pain in her beautiful brown eyes.

“Well, sons I guess. He never met either of his sons,” she continued, a sharper tone entering her voice.

Zan saw a flash of something like anger contort her lovely face. Sorting through the inherited memories, Zan came upon the fact that Max had fathered a child with Ava’s dupe. He felt invaded by a wave of what must be Max’s feelings of regret and confusion regarding that ill begotten child.

Liz bit her lip as she looked up to speak. “I…I just don’t understand. If Tess was his queen back on Antar, then what do they want with my baby?”

It was the first time that day that she had given credence to the theory that little Max’s disappearance might really be alien related. And it shook Zan to the marrow of his bones to hear the fear and longing trembling in her voice.

He cleared his throat and met her gaze. “I wish I knew what to tell ya. I really do.” He felt pissed off beyond belief that he couldn’t supply her with the information that she so desperately needed.

She sighed and fingered the broken picture frame.

Somehow, he could feel her residual hurt and discomfort at the thought of Tess’ son like it was vibrating through the air between them.

He couldn’t bear to see her hurting and before he knew what he was saying the words came tumbling out of his mouth in low, hushed tones. “He may not have been perfect, but he loved you.” Zan gulped. “He loved you with everything he had.” How could he not?

Tears welled up in Liz’s eyes, tears that had been gestating throughout this one terrible day fusing with the tears that had been pushed down into the recesses of her soul for years.

She reached out to him and the next thing he knew he was holding her tight, her arms clasped over his shoulders and her face spilling hot tears into the white cotton of his undershirt, soaking through and bathing his chest. He brought his hand to her hair and cradled the back of her head, trying to absorb her gentle sobs into his body, to bring her relief.

He was surprised at his own capacity for tenderness. This was not the way that he was used to interacting with women...with anyone really. Shit, he knew how to make women feel good, how to make them purr and beg for more. But this was something new, this desire he had to soothe her, to ease her pain. And it seemed to be working…

Liz felt the tension in her body easing as she buried her face in his chest, feeling his strong arms envelop her in a heady cloud of boy scent and compassion. A tiny voice inside her mind wagged its finger at her, saying, “Liz Parker, what are you doing snuggling with a strange man you met just this morning?” But for the first time since her world had been shaken by the news of her son’s disappearance Liz felt some slight semblance of calm. Somehow she knew that she could trust him and for once she was able to switch her brain off and simply be – here in this moment, in the arms of this beautiful man.

They stood that way for a few minutes or hours, who could really tell? Finally, gently, Zan pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes. He could feel a crackling in the air as she slowly slipped out of their embrace, still maintaining eye contact as she did.

“We’re going to find him Liz. We’ll all help you. I’ll help you…if you still want it.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “You’ve been amazing today…really. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I mean, in some bizarre way, it’s almost like he’s my nephew right? And Liz, I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird and I don’t even get it myself...but I know he’s alive. I can feel it.”

Liz didn’t even blink at his words. Considering everything else she’d learned today, it would be hard to shock her.

“I know – I can feel it too. That’s the only reason that I haven’t completely lost my mind today.”

In the back of her mind, Liz marveled at the connection that Zan apparently had with her son. It sorta made sense, if he had Max’s memories…but it was a bit of a revelation all the same. She shook her head slightly, hoping that whatever it was maybe they could use it to find her baby.

“Um, Liz I was thinkin’. Ava, well, you know how her gift is with mind stuff, right? Well, she’s only been getting’ better at all that mojo in the last while and well, I figured I could get her to help us out.”

Liz nodded. “That would be good. It seems like we really need to start exploring all our options, ‘cause it sure doesn’t seem like we can count on the good ol’ NYPD. I guess we should all sit down tomorrow. Michael and Maria will be here then too.”

Zan gazed down at her tenderly, the gentle look in his eyes softening the angular lines of his jaw, tempering the weathered appearance of his stubble. “You should get some sleep,” he said huskily. “We’re all gonna need our rest. It seems like there’s gonna be some crazy times ahead of us.”

“You’re right. I’m totally beat. I was just wandering around before ‘cause I was so wound up…but I feel better…now.”

Liz’s bare feet padded away towards her bedroom and Zan was left there standing by the mantle, watching her small form disappear into the darkness of the hallway.

He settled back on the couch and closed his eyes once again. This time sleep came easily…and with it dreams, new ones this time that puzzled him as much as they excited him…

[femmenerd]

Hello everyone. I'm back with a new update. I see we have a new reader. Welcome KnightOwl!

janesdilemma, you asked

So these dreams, is it max reaching him from across the grave?

It's not exactly that Max is reaching him from the grave in that Max and Zan are not going to have conversations or anything. But when Max died he formed a connection with Zan and so Zan has inherited Max's memories, but all jumbled up. Hopefully that will seem more clear at the end of this update.

Without further ado...

Part 9

Desire.

It comes in so many incarnations, so many permutations of need and want – some pure, others poisoned by anger, hatred or selfishness.

Sex, love, power, attention, domination – you can tell a lot about someone by what they desire most.

And Ava can always sense it, see it radiating off of people. Sometimes it’s a gift, other times it’s a curse but this ability that she has to pick up on the desires of others sure helps in her line of work. The other girls always marvel at the way Ava can wrangle the biggest tips out of customers.

But it’s easy for her. Once she knows what they want, she can step inside that role. Play innocent, play demure, play the whore or the angel, shake this or shake that. People can be slaves to their desires and Ava has learned how to profit off of it.

For her own sanity, she has learned to block the incoming onslaught in her regular life. It can get exhausting to be barraged with the unrequited longings of the checkout girl at the grocery store or the revengeful impulses of the bank teller.

As she danced, she could still feel the eyes of the sullen teenager across the bar watching her every movement. She almost lost her footing in her stilettos as the violent waves of his dark desires washed over her. Never before had she encountered anything like this, so full of malice and bitterness. And that’s saying a lot.

Layered beneath his physical desire for her body was a tangle of ugly emotions. He wanted to own her, use her like a trophy, and this went far deeper than the usual kinky yet harmless desires of the average customer. With a flood of recognition she realized that he knew what she was, who she was, or rather who she had been on that distant planet.

Ava gritted her teeth as she continued to dance, laboring internally to keep her cool. She knew instinctively that this was the type of asshole who wouldn’t see her as a threat if she played her cards right. He’d be so blinded by his own contempt for women; he wouldn’t even see her coming.

This was no ordinary teenage boy. The depth of his fury was that of a man, someone who had lived through much and been defeated often. He clearly had an overpowering need to prove himself against all odds. She strained her mind to go further into the vortex of twisted cravings residing in his head. It was painful but she pushed on, knowing somehow that there was danger here and that she needed to know as much as possible. For one thing, he knew she was an alien……

Images and feelings like storm clouds flooded her mind as she pushed herself to read him. A young boy that looked eerily like Zan, a familiar woman’s face, dark brown doe-like eyes….Liz. Frustration, anger. Lonnie and Rath’s sneering faces swirled through the haze. Ava’s eyes snapped open and a jolt of understanding shocked her system. This little bastard was the skin that her former friends/enemies had conspired with. This little shit was Khivar’s minion and he clearly was still up to no good. Somehow his fucked up plans had something to do with Liz, the first human who was ever good to Ava. Liz and…her son?

Ava’s eyes hardened imperceptively even as she smiled seductively in the little bastard’s general direction. Whatever his plans were, you could be damn sure that she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. And he certainly wouldn’t be the first male to be undone by a woman’s charms - that much she knew for sure. Funny how the ones who mixed their desire with hatred never seemed to know what a danger it was to underestimate a woman. A fatal flaw. But first she would have to find out more and soon. She had to talk to Zan. Something told her that he was already embroiled in this drama even if she didn’t know how just yet.

******************************

Serena watched silently as Isabel went through her nighttime rituals, as if by rote applying her various creams and lotions, flossing, etc. To an outside observer it might seem like this were any other night but Serena knew better. She could feel the fear and confusion brewing inside of Isabel and it pained her to the extreme to see her lover this way.

They had hardly spoken since Serena had revealed her identity. The day had gone by in a whirlwind of activity and they had yet to be alone…until now.

“Isabel?” Serena said tentatively from her sitting position on the bed.

At the sound, Isabel turned her attention away from the vanity and its various beauty supplies. But she didn’t say anything yet. She just looked into Serena’s beautiful green eyes, her mouth twitching slightly as if she might cry.

“Will you talk to me?” Serena asked plaintively. “I…I know that so much is going on right now. It must be so hard for you. I…I just hope you’ll let me support you, help you. But I understand if you don’t….”

Without a word Isabel rushed across the room into Serena’s arms, burying her face into Serena’s bosom as the first sob came out. She had been so tough all day that Serena was almost taken aback by this display of raw emotion. Tenderly Serena began to stroke Isabel’s hair, grateful that Isabel was able to turn to her, despite the fact that she had kept so many secrets.

Isabel’s body shook with each escalating sob. Serena held her tighter with each breath, mentally willing her love to infuse Isabel’s torn spirit. She had never seen Isabel cry before, in all their time together not once. She got the feeling that it wasn’t a common occurrence, or at least it hadn’t been for awhile.

Finally, Isabel’s sobs subsided somewhat and she lifted her tear-streaked face up to meet Serena’s gaze. Her eyes were puffy and her ordinarily creamy complexion was somewhat pink, but in Serena’s eyes Isabel had never looked more beautiful.

“I love you so much. I just want to be here for you,” Serena said softly, staring into Isabel’s watery eyes. At the sound of Serena’s loving words Isabel’s eyes once again filled with tears but a hint of a smile crossed her face as well.

“I’m so scared. For Max, for Liz. Liz told me tonight that she knows that her son is still alive and that helps but I’m still totally freaked out. All day I hoped that this was all a misunderstanding and that the police would call us up saying he got lost on his way to the park or something. I didn’t want to believe you that this was alien related. God, I had thought all that crap was behind us, that we were going to finally be able to have a normal life.” Isabel sighed, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

“We’re going to find him Iz.” Serena cupped Isabel’s face between her hands, drawing her in closer. “If Liz says he’s alive then he is. There’s always a bond between mother and child and I think that in their case it may be especially strong. Liz is special, you know.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me Liz is an alien too,” Isabel sounded tired and slightly exasperated.

“No, Liz is 100 percent human,” Serena was forced to smile a bit despite the gravity of the situation. “Your hybrid powers are actually human powers you know. You were designed to be able to access all those parts of the brain that most humans aren’t even aware that they have.”

Isabel interrupted suddenly, “Wait, Nasedo - he was one of the protectors sent with us - that’s what he told Michael when he was trying to teach him about our powers. I guess I haven’t given it a lot of thought since then.”

“Yes, well, some humans are more in touch with their latent abilities. Some are further evolved than others. Just think about all of the ‘miracles’ you hear about all the time but most people just disregard. ‘Cause it’s also a matter of belief. Most humans don’t believe that these things are possible so it just never happens for them. I just assumed that Liz was aware of her gifts. I mean, she was able to bear Max’s child which is a clear sign that she is not just like any other woman.”

“I guess that makes sense. But what are her gifts exactly?”

“Well, I think that she is strongly intuitive. Haven’t you ever noticed how she always seems to be able predict things. Like how last week, we used up all the butter making cookies and somehow she just knew to pick up some more on her way home.”

“That’s true. She’s always doing stuff like that,” Isabel said excitedly.

“It probably helps a lot with her scientific work also. I can’t believe that neither of you knew about this. I had just assumed that you did but weren’t sharing with me because you thought I was a regular old human.”

Isabel bit her lip. She almost felt like apologizing for keeping so much from Serena until she remembered that Serena had been doing the exact same thing.

“Um. So I guess we’re even about the whole secrets thing, huh?” Isabel changed the subject. “I feel weird about it all honestly; it’s all so much to take in right now. But I truly feel relieved that everything’s out in the open now. I wish that it could have happened another way but…”

Serena caught her serious gaze and they locked eyes once again. “I just want you to know that even though I didn’t tell you everything about who I was, it’s because I was scared, and everything, I mean everything else was real. I may not be named Sarah or from this planet but I’m the same person who fell in love with you.”

Isabel exhaled audibly. “I love you too. I….I was scared too. But this is going to take some getting used to.”

They sat in silence, hands clasped, trying to absorb the enormity of the moment.

Finally, Isabel broke the silence with a question that had been bothering her. “If Liz is intuitive then how come she didn’t see this whole abduction thing coming?”

“Well, we must be up against someone with considerable psychic powers who could have blocked her natural abilities. If she had learned to control her power it would be a different story but as she is untrained…”

“But she seems so sure now that Max is OK, for now at least. Her voice was so firm before.”

“Well, that’s probably because of their connection. I’m hoping that we will be able foster and bolster that connection in order to find Max and bring him home.”

“God I hope so. He’s all we have left of my brother…” Isabel’s voice trailed off sadly.

“Shhhh sweetheart. We’ll find him. Let’s go to sleep now. You look like you need the rest.”

Serena pulled back the covers and guided Isabel into bed. Nestled in Serena’s arms, Isabel closed her weary eyes and fell into a deep sleep, lulled by the sound of her lover’s heartbeat.

******************************

Zan’s mind was flooded with dream fragments swirling around, a jumble of images and sounds.

As usual, he found himself awash in Max’s memories. He stood looking on, a third party observer as someone else’s love affair flashed before his eyes, disjointed memory traces crashing together.

Max’s hands covered in Liz’s blood as he called to her to look into his eyes so he could heal her…

ME + LP glowing red on the brick wall...

Heated kisses on the balcony…

Tearful confessions in an old abandoned bus…

How they trembled together the first time they made love, unsure and inexperienced, limbs twining together…the moment their child was conceived…the child who would never meet his father…

Suddenly the swirl of images collapsed in on itself as a small voice became clear in Zan’s mind.

“Go to her. My mommy needs you. I need you. Find me….bring me home.”

The scene abruptly changed and Zan was no longer the outsider looking in. He felt a rush of sensation as the dreamscape shifted and he found himself walking through a field of green grass approaching Liz, her beautiful face coming into sharp relief. He caught his breath as she came closer, swathed in white. He was running to her, feeling the ground move quickly beneath his feet as he followed an internal call. His heart raced, pounding in his chest as the space between them decreased.

The next thing he knew they were face to face and he grabbed her waist, tilted her head back and kissed her hard. In this liminal space there were no barriers between them, nothing holding them back and her mouth answered his with equal passion.

Unlike the vicarious dreams that had haunted him all these years, this was a hyperreal space of heightened color and sensation. He was here now, not just watching but doing. Zan, not Max. The mists had parted and he could not hold back all the desire he had kept in check for so long.

Ravenously he attacked her lips with a burning need stronger than any he had ever experienced before. He ran his fingers through her hair as he felt her deepen the kiss, teasing his tongue with her own. He felt drunk on her scent, the feeling of her soft skin against his rough hands.

Time stopped. Her body called to him. Suddenly he heard her voice inside his mind, sensually massaging him within his soul.

“Zan.”

They broke apart and regarded one another breathlessly from an arm’s length.

He could feel a new energy coursing through his entire being. They were no longer physically connected but he could feel her inside of him and he was inside of her. Slowly, instinctively they brought their hands together, holding them up in the space between their pulsing bodies. Zan could feel the energy flowing between them, knitting together and increasing in intensity.

He sat up from the couch abruptly, his eyes adjusting to the early morning light. His heart was thumping in his chest so hard he felt that he might burst from the excitement. Trying to catch his breath he fumbled through the pockets of his pants in search of his tobacco pouch. He needed to go on a walk to clear his head and try to decipher the meaning of this.

Just a few yards away in the next room, Liz woke up with a start and sat up in bed, feeling flushed from head to toe.