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Vegas, Blondes, and Amber-Eyed Aliens
by Chione
Category: M/L M/M I/A AU with aliens
Rating: Mature, possible Adult
Disclaimer: I don’t own Roswell.

Summary: Response to tequathisy’s challenge 1. Max takes a chance on the eve of his return to Roswell, telling Liz Parker he’s been in love with her for years. Problem is, she’s getting married the next day.
Note: I started this because the challenge sparked my interest, and because everything else I’m writing at the moment is heavy and tense and angsty. This is going to be light, fluffy, and hopefully humorous later on. This won’t interfere with my updating my other stories.

Enjoy! Tell me what you think!
Chapter One
Max Evans glared at the short sleeved t-shirts on every other person he passed, even as he pulled his own thick coat closer. After seven years in the city, he still wasn’t used to the weather, much less the concept that temperatures in the forties and fifties constituted as spring. He was a desert boy, and he couldn’t wait to get back to his home town, Roswell, New Mexico. Home of aliens, heat waves, and his family.
One day and he’d be home. Most of his stuff had already been packed and shipped down, so all he had to drag with him was a bag of essentials. But just because he was anxious to be home, didn’t mean he was ready to leave. He enjoyed the city, being one of millions, where he could hide in plain sight. Roswell was a small town, and everyone knew one another, or knew of one another. In Boston, he didn’t have to worry if he made acquaintances, that they’d find out about his past, who he really was. There were simply so many people it didn’t matter.
And then, there was Liz. He wouldn’t even know her name, really, if he hadn’t embarrassed the hell out of himself by asking around. His study group had never let him live down his obsession with the girl.
They didn’t know the half of it. He shuddered to think of their teasing if they knew the humiliation of his first meeting with her. It was bad enough some people actually knew him as the Guy Who Liked Liz Parker.
He had been a mere freshman at Boston University, bumbling across campus with a map clutched in his hands and the knowledge that he’d be late to his first English class was eating at the back of his mind. And then he’d seen her, just across the road, seated under a large, sweeping oak in the park. Her long, sleek, brown hair hung around her face as she leaned over her lap, reading some thick book and looking totally absorbed by it. Or at least, she had been until he, idiotically, stepped toward her, not realizing there was a busy street between them. He hadn’t been hit, but there was a great ruckus of swerving cars and honking. When he’d finally made it to the other side, blushing and ears burning, he looked up to meet her warm, brown eyes, widened in concern. Suddenly, she had smiled, lighting his whole world and snatching the beating heart from his chest, taking it with her as she returned to her book and her life.
He’d been in love with her ever since. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do without her in his life. Not that she was actually in his life; he’d never said a word to her. Or even in her general direction. She had no idea he existed, though he’d spent the last seven years rounding every corner with the prayer that she’d be there. Only now, he’d be living in a world where no matter how many corners he turned, she’d never be there.
She was the reason he chose Harvard for law school, despite his family’s pleas to move closer to home. He and his sister had never been separated before, and his plan had always been to return to Roswell once he finished college. Meeting Liz had pushed his plans to go back until after law school. But now he’d finally be leaving, taking a job at his father’s law firm. And he’d be in Roswell for the rest of his life.
Restless thoughts and a raging hope of seeing Liz again had pulled him from his empty apartment and on to the campus, where he wandered, jacket pulled tight against the wind. So he crossed to the quad, and then the park where he’d first met her, wondering what she planned for the future, where she was going. They had both graduated from Harvard grad school only a few days before. The open world lay in front of them, and he wanted nothing more than to be in hers. But he would never tell her.
Why? Why couldn’t he put aside his pride and his fear to go over and say ‘hi’? He had nothing to lose! If she rejected him, he still wouldn’t have her in his life, but at least he’d have tried, and he wouldn’t waste his life on ‘what ifs’. He’d know, one way or the other.
But could he stand that? To know he could never be with her?
If he never acted, if he left for Roswell without a word to Liz, he’d still have his hopes, his dreams that she loved him back. But if she did, by some miracle, he would likely never know. The longer he waited, the slimmer his chances got. Wasn’t she worth the risk?
A better question was, would she still want to be with him if she knew the truth? Or, could he risk letting her know the truth? He had no right to bring her into his unpredictable, chaotic life. Even if she did love him, they wouldn’t work out. They were different. Her life would never be safe with him.
He’d almost convinced himself that he could leave Boston, leave Liz without putting his heart on the line, when he saw her. He knew it was wrong, was selfish to approach, because he was a freak, and she was Liz. Perfect, and beautiful, and kind. She deserved better than what he had to offer.
But Max couldn’t do it. He couldn’t never see her again, and always wonder what could’ve happened. So at the sight of her seated on the bench, eyes fixed on the sky and arms wrapped around her middle, he turned his feet in her direction.
I can do this, he told himself, just sit down and introduce yourself.
He’d spent enough time observing her to know she was even more kind than she was beautiful. And he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Even if she turned him down, she’d do it nicely, politely, and without unnecessary cruelty.
He gathered his courage, and stepped up beside her.
He cleared his throat, so his first real words to her wouldn’t be croaked. “Hi." Gesturing to the bench. "Can I sit here?”
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Liz was having a bad day.
She should’ve been giddy, glowing and excited, but she wasn’t. She should’ve been looking forward to tomorrow, her wedding day, and the rest of her life. But she wasn’t. Why, she couldn’t figure out though she insisted it was only cold feet to her friends. Serena didn’t need another reason to dislike Kyle. Kyle, being her fiancé, and Serena, her roommate for the past seven years. Needless to say, the two didn’t get along.
But Serena was Liz’s best friend, and her Maid of Honor,, so they’d been forced to deal in the past several weeks.
Liz was the one who wasn’t dealing. At twenty-four, she was marrying the guy she’d dated for two years. Perfectly normal, perfectly acceptable. And Kyle was a great guy, he was loyal, and sweet, and he treated her well. She loved him, obviously, or she wouldn’t have said yes. Still, nothing in the past few weeks--since his proposal--had felt right. She wasn’t the type to make decisions, to live her life, according to her instincts. She was a science major, after all. Well, science graduate now, she supposed. Facts were what she like, clear cut things she could pick apart and explain. Not abstract notions like “It just doesn’t feel right.”
But she hadn’t been raised by her Grandma Claudia for nothing. There were some things she accepted couldn’t always be explained by science. After years of ignoring her bad feelings only for it to bit her in the butt later, she knew better. Still, she wasn’t sure what the feeling was from. The last few weeks had been stressful beyond belief, and she knew she’d lost weight as well as sleep.
So on the way back to her apartment, she’d taken a break to sit on her usual bench in the park, clearing her head.
Tomorrow she was getting married.
Married.
Permanent.
She hoped the rock in her stomach was normal.
A shadow fell across her, blocking the warmth of the sun from her lap. She glanced up in protest, stopping mid-breath when her eyes met the most beautiful amber. They were eyes. A man’s eyes, and he was staring at her.
She found herself wishing Kyle had eyes like that.
“Hi.” he smiled shyly, waving a hand at the bench beside her. “Can I sit here?”
And with five simple words, he evoked more feeling from her than she’d ever felt for a man. She wanted the world to halt, so tomorrow would never come and she would spend the rest of her life with this man, his captivating gaze, his deep, smooth voice, his broad shoulders, and his slightly shaggy, brown hair. She resisted the urge to run her fingers through it, to see if it was as thick, as soft as it appeared. She was engaged for God’s sake.
She smiled back, nodding. “Sure. My name’s Liz.”
“I know,” slipped out before he could stop it. He rushed on, hoping she hadn’t heard. “I’m Max.”
She heard. She just couldn’t decide between fear and embarrassment. Did he mean he knew because he’d heard her mentioned around campus, or did he know because he’d secretly been stalking her for years and wanted in her pants? Because she was more than willing--
Stop, Parker, she told herself. She was engaged. And Max was a perfect stranger.
He licked his lips, and she followed the movement of with her eyes. “Um,” he started, not sure how to start other than to just start. “I, uh, god, I’ve never done this before. I know you must think I’m crazy, or a freak or something, but I just, I wanted to tell you.” He paused, one eyes squinting in the sun. Rubbing the back of his ear, he chuckled lightly. “Can I start again?”
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. The way he blushed was adorable, and his quirky grin was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Could he really be saying what she thought he was saying? To her, Liz Parker, science geek and plain Jane extraordinaire?
“I, um, I really like you, Liz. I know you don’t have any clue who I am, and you probably think I’m some creepy stalker or something, but I’m really not. I just, I just thought I’d tell you.”
The weight of her ring brought her back to the ground after his admission. She wished it would go away, or that she could throw it away and take Max’s offer. But she’d made a promise, and she loved Kyle, had known him for more than two years. Max was still only a stranger, no matter how gorgeous, or how sweet. She couldn’t throw away a perfectly good marriage for a possible fling. She didn’t even know the guy.
But she didn’t want to hurt him either. He was just what she’d needed today, in his presence, her building headache had eased. He’d known just what to say to make her feel beautiful, and special. One of a kind. How do you thank someone for that? For what he’d said? It was the sweetest thing she’d ever been told. So sincere, so shy.
Smiling sadly, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh. Wow, I--thank you. That means a lot to me, I’m sorry, I--I don’t really know you. You seem like a wonderful guy.” She took a deep breath. “But I’m engaged. I’m getting married. Tomorrow.”
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Note: For those of you following my story, That Which Hath Made Me, I'll be posting part 8 tomorrow.
