Now before you read this, I should probably warn you that some of you might not be completely happy with this chapter, content-wise. While I'm not going to guarantee a happy ending (actually, I'm not a big fan of those endings where everything is suddenly perfect and the couple rides off into the sunset together), I do promise you that this story won't end on a completely heartwrenching note. There will be at least a silver lining, maybe more. I haven't quite made up my mind. But I will say that I normally like positive endings.
And now on to more important thing. I have a message for all those other evil x-tremer writers out there that haven't updated their stories in months, if not years. Yes, you. You people know exactly who you are. You might think that this part is a gift, something you can enjoy without having to give anything back. Well, it isn't. After all, they don't call me evil bitch for nothing.
Here's the deal: you read this, you'd better start working on the next part of your own story. If you don't, the consequences will be horrifying! Terrible things will happen in this fic if you don't update! Liz will leave Seattle forever! She'll fall back in love with Max and become his doormatt and they'll have lots of big-eared babies! Alec will realize he's gay and will start living out Normal's gladiator fantasies! Joshua will die from an overdosis of toxic-paint-sniffing! White will win! The skins will take over the planet! Everyone will die!
So, jeez people, update! I did it. If I managed, it can't be that hard.
Oh, and in case you don't remember what happened in the last part (not that it's been a long time since I posted it or anything), Michael showed up at Joshua's, filled Liz in on what happened since he left and basically asked her to come home. This part pretty much picks up where the last one left off. Also, I edited the part where Liz and Alec talk about his cooking ages ago, just not at this site. What I changed there is mentioned here, so you might want to reread that scene, it's in part 30.
Part 41
I don’t know how long Alec’s been standing there in the doorway, watching me. His expression is grave, his eyes showing a hint of emotions I can’t quite put my finger on.
“So you’re leaving?” His voice is rough and I have to swallow. The words hang there between us for what seems an eternity.
I nod, look away. My voice doesn’t seem to function when I’m looking at him. “I have to. I never planned to stay here. Just until I found Ava, until I managed to get my powers under control.” I wait a beat. “I can’t stay.”
Who am I trying to convince again?
Now I do look at him, and his eyes are burning with emotion. “My family is in Roswell,” I go on. “My friends. I..I really miss them. My parents are going crazy worrying about me. My…my whole life is there.”
“And Max.” It sounds almost more like a question than a statement.
I actually laugh. “Max? No. Not Max. He’s not…he’s nothing to me. He’s not you.”
Alec’s voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “You have friends here too, Liz. People who need you. People who’ll miss you.”
He doesn’t say it. Doesn’t say that he needs me, that he’s the one who will miss me.
But then, he doesn’t have to. I can see it in his eyes. They’re suddenly overflowing with emotions, with love and sadness and so much more.
I have to swallow past the lump in my throat, fight back the tears. “I know,” I whisper. And I do. How could I not when he’s so obviously baring his soul to me? When everything he feels for me is showing so blatantly in his eyes, his face, his voice?
He loves me. And I…I love him. I do. But I can’t stay. I just can’t. I can’t do that to my parents. My friends. Then there’s school. My dreams. My future. All that is in Roswell. Right?
I swallow, again. My mind knows that all that is true, but my heart is telling me something different all the same. Too bad I stopped listening to it when Max broke it.
-------
Farewells suck.
If I hadn’t snuck off into the night when I left Roswell, thus avoiding the whole saying-goodbye-ceremony, I probably would have never left. Not if it meant going through all this.
The last two days have been hell. I’ve been preparing everything for my return to Roswell. Packing, saying goodbye, finishing up a million other little things.
Considering the short period of time I was only here and how careful I was to avoid getting attached to anything or anyone, there sure is a lot to do. So many people to say goodbye to…Logan, Calvin, Annie, Biggs, just to name a few. Joshua leaves the room howling every time I see him. I’m hating every second of this.
And through all this, Alec is stoic. He doesn’t ask me to stay again. He doesn’t try to keep me from leaving. To be honest, I really have no idea at all what he’s thinking anymore. He seems to have a tight grip on his emotions, his thoughts, his actions. Everything. He’s not avoiding me, but he’s not really there either. He’s turned into a non-presence in my life, if that makes any sense.
Not that I blame him. I don’t know how I’d act if our roles were reversed. I just know that I’d have a lot less self-control.
My last day in Seattle is quickly approaching, and I’m dreading it more with every passing second. Michael leaves before me, taking most of my things with him since he came by car, having borrowed the DeLuca Jetta. A safe choice since even in this dump of a city, no-one has any interest in stealing that car.
I’ll follow a few days later on my bike. At first I wanted to leave it here. I assumed that Alec would want it back. Boy, was I wrong.
When I mentioned it, he looked like he wanted to strangle me. For the first time ever since I told him that I was leaving, I saw real emotions in his eyes. Granted, anger isn’t exactly my favorite emotion, but at that point, I was almost glad to see it. Any emotion is better than the block of ice he’d turned into.
To put it in a nutshell, he definitely doesn’t want the bike back.
Ever.
He wants me to keep it. So I will. To be honest, giving it back is the last thing I want to do anyway. It’s the only present I ever got from Alec. It’s precious. It’s mine.
-------
My last night in Seattle arrives much too quickly. Alec invited me over to his apartment. The way things have been lately, I’m really not sure what to expect. Anticipation and trepidation are fighting for dominance over my mind. My heart is beating like crazy when I stand in front of his apartment door. I’m taking deep breaths, trying to calm down my racing heart, trying to build up the courage to knock, when Alec opens the door.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You know, I can hear you breathing through the door. Not to mention that I heard you arrive.”
Great. Now I look like a complete idiot standing here for an eternity instead of just knocking. Damn those superior transgenic senses of his.
But then something strange happens, and I forget all about feeling like the world’s biggest dork. Alec smiles at me.
Sort of.
It’s more a barely-even-there half-smile, but it’s a smile, even if there’s a hint of a smirk mixed in there somewhere. “You’re cute,” he tells me. His eyes are laughing at me, but suddenly I don’t mind anymore.
Then he kisses my forehead, and suddenly the world rights itself, at least for this one short moment. We just stand there in the doorway, wrapped around each other. I don’t want to move, like, ever.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers into my ear, almost startling me. “I was behaving like an idiot. Roswell is home. I get that. I get that you have to go back. I don’t like it, but I get it.”
I just wrap my arms tighter around him, pulling him closer, trying to suppress the tears fighting to break free. I don’t know how he can understand it when I don’t even understand it myself.
After a few minutes he pulls away a bit, looking down at me. The smile is gone, and I see my sadness reflected in his eyes. Then he looks away, takes a step back. “Come on in.”
He closes the door behind me and I have a second to take in his apartment. There’s music playing. And it’s dark, no lights, only a few candles scattered around the room.
“Brown out?” I ask.
He looks at me. “No,” he says slowly.
And I’m speechless. Alec does not do romantic. He doesn’t. Trust me. I know. Actually, that’s one of the things I always liked about him. It’s the exact opposite of Max. But this…
Suddenly my heart aches. How can he possibly know what I need, what I want, before I even know it myself? This is perfect. This is exactly what I need right now. This is exactly the way I want our last night together to be like.
But the surprises don’t stop there. He’s set the table. There’s a pot on the stove. And a frying pan. And there’s a pile of meat lying on the counter beside it.
“Are you cooking?” I ask, and my voice has the queerest catch in it.
He shrugs. “Thought you might be hungry.”
A half-smile finds its way to my lips. “I could eat something.”
He smiles back at me. “I even have a side dish for you.”
-------
We’re sitting across from each other at the table eating, and seriously, it’s delicious. Okay, so I took over cooking my potato, because Alec didn’t have a clue what he was doing.
He passed on the side dish, in case you’re wondering. Still sticking to his “who needs a side dish when you have meat” theory.
But the steaks are all his doing and they’re perfect. Not too raw, not too well done, and wonderfully juicy and tender.
“God, this is good,” I mutter. I’m just starting on steak number two, my potato only have eaten. I’m beginning to see where Alec is coming from. “Why’d you never cook for me before?” I ask almost accusingly.
Alec shrugs, taking a sip of wine. I passed. Kinda want to remember this night.
“Steaks are hard to get by,” he tells me.
“So where’d you get these?”
“Stole them from our congressman. He’s hosting some fancy party tonight. Guess some of his guests will have to make due without a steak.” He’s smirking, of course. Why doesn’t it surprise me that he’s actually proud of his criminal activities?
I shake my head at him. “You’re hopeless.”
He smirks again. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He would.
-------
Once we’re done eating he pulls me to my feet. An old Chris Isaac song is playing. Something slow and sensual with a touch of bittersweet longing. And then I’m in his arms and we’re moving to the music. It’s hardly even dancing. But I don’t really care, I just want him close to me, want to feel the heat radiating off his skin, want to feel his body pressed against mine.
I push away the sadness, the longing that’s already building up despite me still being in Seattle, still in Alec’s arms, push away the question of how I’ll ever survive without him. Instead I let myself sink into the moment, into the here and now. That’s what matters after all. It’s all that matters right now.
We keep on dancing, arms wrapped tightly around each other. My face is buried in the crook of his neck while his cheek is resting on the top of my head. He smells like soap and Alec and something that I can only describe as pure maleness. It’s intoxicating, and soon just dancing isn’t enough anymore.
My lips brush over that one spot on his neck that always drives him crazy, before I replace them with my teeth. I shiver when I feel his pulse quickening under my ministrations. His hands begin to roam over my back, leaving behind a tail of goose bumps.
I really need to feel his lips on mine and so I kiss my way upwards, over his throat, his jaw. Finally our lips meet and passion sparks between us. The kisses become more urgent quickly, hands ripping at suddenly unwelcome pieces of clothing separating us. When we’re both panting and half naked, Alec simply plucks me up and carries me into the bedroom.
His bare chest is pressed against my skin and I can feel his arousal through his jeans. And suddenly the need to take him and posses him and feel him deep inside me consumes my mind, my body, my soul. A cloud of lust and passion and carnal desire settles over my brain, taking over me. We topple onto his bed, and I start clawing at his jeans. I want him. Now.
I’m aching for him, and finally the clothes are gone and he’s inside me. And it’s the most perfect feeling I could ever imagine. It’s not just lust, not just passion. It’s love. We’ve become one, and not just physically. I feel like his soul just slid into mine.
A tear slips down my face. How will I ever be able to live without him? Without this? I don’t know.
The passion intensifies, and soon I’m carried off to a place where thinking isn’t possible anymore, just feeling and wanting and needing.
Right now, I couldn’t ask for more.
tbc
