Banner by the wonderfully talented Bordersinsanity
Title: The Twelve Days of Christmas: A Dreamer Story
Author: SansuCry
Email: sansucry@earthlink.net
Rating: YTEEN
Category: AU, M/L.
Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with Roswell or any one associated with it.
Summary: My own little Roswell world. Tess doesn’t exist because my mommy taught me that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. The shooting never happened. It’s Christmas time, and Liz Parker has a Secret Santa. Will it turn out to be the man of her dreams?
Dedicated to Ian, because seven years later I still think of you and wonder why.
This is Part 13 of the story, so go here to read the first twelve or so:
Twelve Days of Christmas Archive
A/N: I was hoping to post the rest of this story tonight, but my muse is messing with the last few paragraphs. Besides, it was approaching twenty-five pages, so I decided to break this down into two parts. If I'm lucky, I'll get Part 14 up tomorrow night...
Let me know what you think.
Part 13
Saturday
December 23, 2000
She hadn’t thought she would ever stop crying.
When the first clouded rays of sunlight had crossed the bed to invade her restless sleep she had hoped that last night had been nothing more than a bad dream, but the stiff puffy feeling of her tear-swollen eyes was an immediate reminder that her worst nightmare was completely real.
After spending hours analyzing the events of the previous two weeks she was still stunned that finding out Max was her Secret Santa had turned out to be so heartbreaking. She had thought that discovering he was the author of the computer-generated notes would be the most perfect thing she could ever imagine, but his steadfast refusal to tell her the truth regarding the expensive gifts that accompanied those notes had overshadowed any joy she had received from the revelation that the beautifully romantic words truly were his.
When she had walked over to the UFO Center to meet Max for his break her mind had been reeling with the ramifications of Isabelle’s disclosure in the Crashdown. She knew that the whole Secret Santa program revolved around the gift giver remaining anonymous for as long as possible, so the fact that he had kept his identity hidden wasn’t what had upset her. It was all about the gifts. It was one thing to receive a cache of presents that fell within the allotted five dollar per day range. If that were the case she would have understood the need for a few little white lies from him. As far as she had been able to determine, though, there was over three thousand dollars worth of merchandise sitting here in her bedroom, making Max’s fib about not spending any money on her escalate into an enormous lie as rapidly as the price tags on those gifts had grown.
His continued denial that he had spent any money for the presents had automatically made her seek out another explanation for the luxurious items, desperately searching for some way to be able to accept what he was saying. Her previous idea regarding how Michael would have obtained such elaborate things had briefly flashed thorough her mind before being discarded, the vision of Max going to the mall and shoplifting too absurd to consider. However, as her mind shifted to review her discussion with the one person who probably knew him best, the thought of Max being a thief had come back to life with a vengeance. She was certain that Isabelle’s little question and answer session in Psychology class had been his sister’s way of warning her that her gifts had indeed been stolen.
She had hoped that by voicing her suspicion aloud Max would find the courage to admit the truth, so of course she was disappointed when he denied this possibility as quickly as he had refuted spending money on the presents. He had asked to go somewhere more private to explain, but a sudden nervousness hit her as she realized that she didn’t really know Max Evans as well as she wanted to believe she did. After all, they had only begun speaking more than a few words to each other a mere eleven days earlier.
Once he conceded to continuing the discussion in their present location she wasn’t surprised when he suggested that she sit down for the revelation that was to come. She chose to stand nevertheless, and the minute he began talking about creating the gifts she knew he had no intention of being truly honest with her. She played along anyway, trying to see how far he was willing to take this charade, but the minute he included the infamous quote from ‘Starman’ she nearly broke out in tears. How could he so callously use what she had come to consider ‘their movie’ to explain away his criminal behavior?
Hoping that there was still a chance to rescue their burgeoning relationship she had begged him to tell her the truth then, but her profession of love and reassurance that he didn’t have to lie to impress her still had not been enough for him to come clean. If only he had trusted her enough to be honest she would have stood by him and helped him return the presents before he got himself into serious trouble. However, no matter how much she wanted that it had been obvious that it just was not going to happen.
By this time she had had her fill of the heartache and discomfort that had arisen from him being her Secret Santa. He knew she had embarrassed herself in front of Kyle, had laughed when she suspected his best friend Michael, and more than likely had figured out that she would consider Isabelle, since the girl had drawn her name, but for him to think that she would actually be gullible enough to believe his ‘I’m an alien’ act had been the final humiliation.
His mention of Maria had made her snap, instinct taking over at the reminder that not only had he lied to her, but her best friend had as well. All her frustration and anguish had come out as her mind raced with the knowledge that Max and Maria obviously knew each other much better than either of them had let on, the worst case scenario as to why that might be true instantly escaping past her lips without a second’s hesitation. She didn’t think she could stand any more betrayal by the people she had trusted so thoroughly, so when Max had pleaded for one more chance because he loved her, all she manage to was to ask how she could be sure it wasn’t just another lie.
Looking back, she wondered whether there was something she could have done to handle the situation better. She had given Max several chances to explain, yet he had steadfastly refused to be straight with her. What could he possibly be hiding that would make him resort to telling her the ridiculous lie that he was an alien? The most logical conclusion was that he had in fact stolen the gifts. Isabelle had told her that he hated going to the mall so the whole shoplifting thing was still out, but recalling the web page up on his computer had given her an idea as to the type of thievery he could have committed and how his sister would have knowledge of it. She would bet he had managed to get those presents shipped to him straight from the Internet by using a fraudulent credit card or hacking into the order systems of the companies he had obtained gifts from. In either case it was only a matter of time before he got caught, so she decided that proper thing for her to do was give the gifts back to him and insist he return them.
“What in the hell did you do to Max?” an infuriated voice sliced through her ponderings.
“I thought I told my mom that I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone,” she said as she glared at Maria.
“Well, I’m not just anyone. I’m your best friend,” the dark blonde retorted, “unless you’ve forgotten that.”
“If anyone’s forgotten, it’s you. You’re the one who’s been lying to me, you and your friend Max,” she said with no lack of bitterness.
The other girl’s voice softened. “Max would never lie to you, Liz. He loves you. You are his whole world, and if you have any doubts about that all you have to do is take one look at him today to know it’s true.”
Liz was still upset enough with Maria that she considered telling her to leave, but curiosity over what her friend might know about Max’s real secret got the best of her. “No, Max wouldn’t lie to me,” she said sarcastically. “He just expects me to believe he’s an alien.”
“Aren’t you the one who used to say the universe was just too big for there not to be other intelligent life out there somewhere?” Maria pointed out as she firmly shut and locked the bedroom door. “What makes you so sure that Max wasn’t telling you the truth?”
“Oh, give me a break,” she said disgustedly. “Not you, too. Get real. Aliens are going to travel thousands of light years to Earth just so they can pretend to be teenagers in the middle of the desert and use their powers of molecular manipulation to create Llado angels and Cherished Teddies calendars. I can see it now. ‘Alert the military. Call in the FBI. We have a rogue alien in Sector 7 whipping up copies of the Mona Lisa and selling them on eBay’.”
Maria gave her a reprimanding look. “Granted, Roswell is probably the last place on Earth aliens would want to land, but what about the ship that crashed in 1947? It’s not like they really had any other choice but to land here.”
“Soooo,” she dragged out as she did the math, “you’re saying that Max was in the 1947 crash? That would make him a minimum of fifty-three years old. I’d say he looks pretty good for his age, not to mention the fact that most people claim the aliens from the crash were three feet tall and green.”
“That’s because those aliens weren’t hybrids,” Maria calmly explained. “They were completely Antarian, and they knew they were going to die anyway. They brought the pods to Earth and were to keep them safe in orbit until they could find a suitable place to incubate. Then the ship crashed, and a cave out by Pohlman Ranch became the incubation chamber by default. Forty-two years later the pods hatched, and hours after that two aliens who looked like normal six-year-olds, a girl and a boy, were found wandering in the middle of the desert. A second boy was discovered three days after that.”
“So now not only is Max an alien, but there are two others as well?” she asked incredulously. “Oh, I get it. Michael and Isabelle are….what did you call them…hybrids, too?”
“Yeah,” Maria nodded. “Basically their alien DNA was mixed with human DNA so they could live here on Earth. It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’d have to ask Max for the details.”
As she sat there listening to Maria rationally discuss alien hybrids like they were an everyday occurrence a sudden appalling thought crossed her mind. Her friend actually believed what she was saying. Maria thought Michael, Max and Isabelle were aliens. A dreadful notion came to her then, one that would explain the source of the expensive gifts, Max’s lying, Maria’s lying, and her bizarre comments.
She walked over to her friend and rested her hand on the blonde’s arm. “Maria, I don’t want you to get upset with me, but I have to ask you something,” she began. “I’m worried about you. I know that we haven’t spent as much time together this year as we have in the past, and I’m afraid that we’re drifting apart. The fact that you didn’t tell me about Michael Guerin is proof of that. But I think there is more going on with you, something that involves both Michael and Max.”
“Of course there is,” Maria responded. “I just told you…”
“I know,” she interrupted, “…that you think they are aliens.” Her tone turning serious she hesitantly asked, “Maria, what have you been taking?”
“Taking?” Maria asked, confused by her inquiry. “What do you mean ‘taking’?”
“Which drug are you taking, Maria? It’s one of those you make yourself, isn’t it?” she swiftly questioned before stating her case. “I don’t know why I didn’t catch on sooner. You hiding stuff from me, Max lying about the gifts, this conspired b.s. story about aliens. Did Max sell the stuff or just trade it for my presents? I’m sure there are enough desperate kids out there who would swipe just about anything to get their next fix.”
“Drugs?” Maria laughed. “Wow, Max was right. You won’t even consider the possibility that he’s an alien.”
“Would you listen to yourself?” she demanded, growing tired of Maria’s games. “This is ridiculous. Why would you ever believe such garbage?”
“You’re the one being ridiculous, Liz. Max is a liar. Max is a thief. Max is a drug dealer. You would rather believe these horrible things about him than acknowledge that he is what he says he is. You want to know why I believe him? Because he’s telling the truth,” Maria said matter-of-factly. “Michael proved it to me, and if you had given Max half a chance last night he would have done the same for you.”
“So I could be humiliated one more time? No thank you. Not to change the subject, but since you’re the one who brought it up, what about you and Michael?” she questioned. “Max has obviously known about your relationship longer than I have, so naturally I wonder just how long you two have been together and why you didn’t bother telling me.”
“The first week of school I had to do an oral history report on Michael for Mr. Sommer’s class. You know, one of those ‘get to know your fellow classmates’ things,” Maria wistfully recalled. “Once I tracked him down and got him to talk we found out we had a lot in common, especially about abandonment issues and the fantasies we’d created about his real parents and my dad coming back for us. At one point I actually got him laugh. Can you believe that? Michael ‘Stonewall’ Guerin, laughing? It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. After that we started hanging around together, and eventually I found out he wasn’t completely human. ”
“So one day he just up and said, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m an alien’?” she asked with quiet skepticism.
“No, it wasn’t quite that easy,” her friend said with a reminiscing shake of her head. “Things ran hot and cold between us for weeks. He would always ask me to keep our time together a secret, so I thought he was ashamed to be seen with me. Then he’d do something really sweet and I’d be so happy that all I cared about was being with him, secret or no. Just when I thought we were getting close, he would take a step back. Finally one night I told him that I’d had enough. I wasn’t a yo-yo. He stormed out of my house, and Lucky ran out behind him. Before I knew it my dog was laying in the middle of the street, bleeding to death. A car had hit him, and the driver hadn’t even bothered to stop.”
“Oh, Maria,” she said as she saw the anguished look on her friend’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have…” she trailed off. With a frown she asked, “When did this happen?”
“September 17th,” Maria said pointedly.
She tensed for a moment at the reminder of the date before observing, “But Lucky’s still alive.”
“Yeah, I know,” Maria pensively smiled. “I ran out into the street to be with him while he died, but Michael beat me there. He picked Lucky up and brought him into the house, saying that it was all his fault and telling me how sorry he was. Before I even had a chance to let him know I didn’t blame him his hands were on Lucky’s wound, and they were…glowing.”
“Glowing?” she questioned, positive she hadn’t heard Maria correctly.
“He healed my dog, brought him back from the brink of death and made him perfect again, with just his bare hands. I didn’t know whether to be shocked or afraid, but then Michael took one look at me and my heart broke. He was scared of me, so much so that I could actually feel his fear coming off of him in waves. He was terrified I’d freak out and run away, but how could I? He had just performed a miracle in front of my very own eyes. It was a huge gamble for him to take, risking his own life just to save my Lucky, especially since he had no idea how I would react.”
“So that’s why you didn’t tell me about your relationship? Because Michael’s an alien?” she surmised, not completely believing her friend but at least willing to hear her out.
“Michael, Max and Isabelle had a pact that they tell no one the truth about their origins, which also implied that they wouldn’t get too…involved with other people. Michael broke both of those rules because of me. He had asked me to hide our relationship because he was afraid Max and Isabelle wouldn’t understand, especially since I now knew the truth. He was aware that you and Max were lab partners, so he was afraid if I told you about us that it might get back to Max.”
“Then how did Max go from not getting involved with other people to becoming my Secret Santa?”
“About a week after Michael healed Lucky Max walked in on us at Michael’s apartment. He was beyond furious when he found out I knew everything. For a month and a half he refused to speak to Michael until the stress finally got to be too much and Michael broke up with me. Michael said that he would always love me but couldn’t afford to lose Max’s friendship.”
“Wait,” she interjected, needing some clarification. “How can you and Max be friends if he tried to break you and Michael up?”
“Because I knew the one secret about him that no one else, not even Michael and Isabelle, knew.”
“So you blackmailed Max into forgiving Michael?”
“More like I gave him a cold hard dose of reality,” she smirked. “After Michael broke up with me I went over to Max’s house to congratulate him on winning his imaginary battle. I told him that the only reason he was doing this was because he was jealous.”
“Jealous because Michael was now spending all his time with you?”
“No,” Maria clarified. “Jealous because Michael and I had everything Max wanted to have with you.”
Her stomach tightened into a knot as she expectantly asked, “Everything like what?”
“Like telling you, the girl he loves more than anything else in this world or any other, the truth about himself and having you not freak out or run away. Having you accept him even though he is different. Having you say that you love him and would never turn away from him. In short, everything you didn’t do last night.”
She lowered her eyes in shame. She knew she had hurt Max last night, the stress of the whole Secret Santa disaster and the pain of his perceived betrayal the only excuses she could give for her thoughtless parting shot. What if Maria really was telling her the truth? How could she ever make it up to him?
“Do you have any idea what it took for him to open up to you?” Maria asked as if she had been reading her thoughts. “When the Secret Santa thing came up, I told him that this was his one opportunity to start living his life instead of just…existing. At first he didn’t even plan to tell you he was your Secret Santa. He was going to give you the things he wanted you to have and then erase Isabelle’s name from the program book so that you could never link him to the gifts. I finally got him to consider changing his mind by telling him that he could trust you, that I was your best friend and I knew that you liked him nearly as much as he liked you. When you two had your little stargazing date he realized I was right and eventually decided he would go ahead with letting you know the truth.”
A horrible sinking feeling came over her as the gravity of Maria’s words hit her full force. All the time she had been obsessing over the identity of her Secret Santa and her ambivalent feelings toward the expensive gifts she had been receiving Max had been debating whether to put his life on the line simply to tell her that he loved her. “How he must hate me,” she mumbled despondently.
“Max could never hate you, Liz,” Maria consoled. “He’s just very hurt, and he’s convinced that you’ll never want to have anything to do with him ever again.”
“So everything he told me, everything you told me, is real?” she asked one final time.
“As real as the ‘Best Friend’ necklace or charm or bracelet that you planned to give me tonight is.”
Her eyes snapped up at Maria’s analogy. “How long have you known?” she asked resignedly.
“C’’mon, chica. Orange nail polish? There’s only one person I’ve ever known who wore orange nail polish, and her name is Amy DeLuca,” Maria teased. Holding up her own hands to show off her manicure she added, “Now there’s two. Did you really think I could forget that whole mess we made?”
“I guess not,” she said with a small smile, grateful for her friend’s attempt to lighten the mood.
“Even being Miss Scientist, Liz, I know how hard this probably is for you to accept,” Maria soothed. “If I hadn’t seen Michael’s handiwork with my own eyes, I’m sure I would have reacted the same way. Who am I kidding? I would have gone bezerk and run away while screaming my head off like a loon.” With a thoughtful sigh her serious tone returned. “Lizzie, I’ll be the first to admit that maybe Max could have handled this whole Secret Santa thing a lot better, but now that you know why he did things the way he did I hope you can cut him some slack. You should keep in mind is that no matter what Max is…still Max. He’s the same guy who’s been your lab partner for the past three years, the same guy who comes into the Crashdown every chance he gets just to stare at you, the same one who trusted you enough to want you to know the truth. If you interest in him all these years has been genuine, if you really love him as much as I think you do, none of this should change those feelings.”
“None of it does,” she adamantly confirmed. “I do love him, and that’s the reason I got so upset last night. I was devastated that he was lying to me, or at least I believed he was. That is understandable, isn’t it?”
Maria indicated her agreement with a nod and a sympathetic smile.
“I’m still not sure I can believe all of this alien stuff, but if there is even the slightest chance it is true then the least I owe him after last night is the opportunity to prove it to me. That is, if he even wants to prove it to me now.”
“Of course he does,” Maria cheered. “But I think it might be better for all concerned if I give you the proof you need before you see him again, and I can do that without even having to leave this room.”
“What do you mean?” she queried.
“Where’s the angora sweater Max gave you?”
“It’s in that box over there. I packed up all his gifts and was going to return them the next time I saw him,” she said as she pointed to her desk chair, her voice saddened by the thought of giving up the beautiful items. “Out of all the presents it was my favorite. His, too.”
“I’m not surprised,” Maria knowingly quipped as she walked across the room and rummaged through the cardboard container. Retrieving the sweater she returned to her original location and held it out, silently demanding she take it. “He put a lot of effort into it. He wanted it to fit you perfectly, but Isabelle and I told him there was no way to do that without taking your measurements.” With a sly grin she continued, “You should have seen how red his face got when he admitted that he knew your body well enough to do the alterations from memory.”
She couldn’t stop the blush that colored her own cheeks at Maria’s comment before curiously asking, “Max said he created my gifts from other things, but he didn’t say what kinds of things. What could he possibly alter to make an angora sweater?”
“I could just tell you,” Maria toyed, “but look at some of the conclusions you’ve been jumping to lately. My Spaceboy writing love notes? Max a drug dealer?” Unsuccessfully stifling her laughter she added, “Isabelle a lesbian? Sorry, chica, but I think you need some practice with your deductive reasoning skills.”
“You have some stranger give you a bunch of outrageously expensive gifts and see how well your brain works,” she countered.
“Liz, if I had known sooner they were making you that uncomfortable, I would have insisted that Max tone them down,” Maria offered apologetically. “I tried to warn him that he might be going overboard, but he can be pretty stubborn when it comes to you.”
She gave her friend an appreciative look as she explained, “I was just worried that someone was draining his or her bank account to try to impress me. I felt bad because I knew that whoever it was didn’t stand a chance against Max. Of course since it turns out that it was Max and you both say he didn’t spend any money on my gifts I obviously don’t feel so bad now.” Eager to have the proof she needed to begin accepting Max’s alien story she continued, “Speaking of, are you going to force me to make a million guesses about the origins of this sweater or do I get some kind of hint?”
“I guess I’ll give you a hint. After all, every good scientist needs a starting point,” Maria conceded with feigned exasperation, “although I believe they call them facts. I promise I won’t make this too hard for you. I think you’ve suffered enough already. Anyway, fact number one: after Max gave you the sweater he realized that there was one very important thing he forgot to change.”
She glanced down at the sweater before bringing her gaze back to Maria, uncertain as to what she should do.
“Go on,” Maria urged, “check it over. See whether you can figure out what he missed.”
She hesitantly held the sweater out in front of her and looked it over, examining every last inch of the front before turning it over to peruse the back. Nothing appeared unusual or out of place. She gave Maria a puzzled frown and remarked, “I don’t know. It looks like a regular black angora sweater to me.”
“Look carefully, Lizzie.”
“Is it the buttons?” she asked. Her eyes widening she whispered, “They aren’t real pearls, are they?”
“No, the buttons aren’t real pearls,” Maria refuted. “This hint has something to do with properly caring for the sweater.”
“Caring for it? You mean like washing it? I assume it would have to be dry cleaned.”
“Are you sure?” Maria egged her on. “I’m pretty sure you hand wash angora. You better check the label.”
Noticing that there was no tag at the neckline she draped the sweater over her arm and undid the buttons to expose the inside seams. There toward the bottom of the left side seam was the familiar white rectangle that would give her the correct washing instructions. Her brows wrinkled in confusion as she read the information listed there. “Machine wash cold with like colors. Tumble dry on medium heat. One hundred percent acrylic. So it isn’t really angora?” she questioned.
“It is now,” Maria corrected. “It didn’t used to be.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” she commented as her mystification continued. “Your proof that Max is an alien is that he supposedly changed an acrylic sweater into an angora one?”
“While you still have that tag in your hand why don’t you turn it over and read the other side,” Maria suggested.
“Sears Men’s Store?”
I thought it was time for me to make a change.
“Size Large?”
I’ve already given it away.
“No, it can’t be,” she weakly protested. “When you said alterations I thought you meant a few stitches here and there. I…is this really…”
“Come on, chica. You can say it,” Maria encouraged. “Show me that those deductive reasoning skills are still intact and make me proud.”
The excitement in Max’s eyes as she had thrilled over the sweater in the middle of the school hallway made such perfect sense now. At that time he must have not yet decided that he would reveal himself at the end of the Secret Santa program, so in his mind giving her this present had been the closest he would ever come to making her his girl. No wonder he loved seeing her wear it.
As inconceivable as the whole thought of real aliens living in Roswell as teenagers was, she suddenly had no doubt that it was the truth. The proof, along with Max’s heart, was resting in the palm of her hands. “This is Max’s Monday sweater,” she quietly venerated, the awe in her voice barely scraping the surface of the emotions that statement generated.
“Good job, Lizzie. I knew you could do it,” Maria cheered. “I guess the next question is: what are you going to do now that you know Max was being honest.”
A devious smile graced her lips as she enlightened her best friend. “I think it’s time for me to play not-so-secret Secret Santa.”
thank you for continuing to inspire me to write. As long as there is a Roswell fanfic board for me to post on I will do my best to keep the Dream of Season 1 Max and Liz alive. It may take me years to write a story, but I promise to always finish it. 
