What Liz Was Really Thinking (UC, Mi/L, Mature) 2/19 [WIP]

[Ashita]

Title: What Liz Was Really Thinking
Disclaimer: The characters and concepts of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, and 20th Century Fox.
Authors: Ashita and Whimsicality
Pairings: Liz-centric with Polar undertones
Category: Comedy
Rating: Mature
Summary: A series of spoofs on various Roswell scenes. Be forewarned that while they may contain some dialogue from the scenes, they won't follow the actual scenes themselves, but mock them. What can I say, some of the stuff they came up with was seriously ridiculous.

Warnings: If you are an avid Max fan and think the sun rises and sets in him, you are in the wrong story. I mock him pretty heartily in this series of drabbles.
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Banner by Whimsicality

AN: A spoof of the infamous Max tells Liz he's an alien scene that Whims and I conjured up while we were talking in chat, so credit goes to her as much as to me. Particularly the line about freaks living in the attic. That was all her. The first three paragraphs contain lines from the Pilot to set the scene up.

What are you?

“Okay, um,” Liz murmured, slightly uncomfortable as Max crowded her slightly and shifted on her feet, biting her lower lip, her brow pinched in deep concentration. Looking at him through her lashes warily, she squirmed under his intense scrutiny and wondered what had possessed him to track her down and subject her to this conversation. “So help me out here Max. I mean, what are you?”

“Well,” he began, quirking his lips in a half-smile, his golden eyes glimmering with slight amusement despite the sobriety of the situation. Walking away from her, he touched the drum before turning back to her with a slight shrug of his shoulders, a soft light that perplexed her touching his eyes. “I'm not from around here.

“Where you from?” she asked cautiously, biting back an exasperated sigh at the pointless dramatics and beating around the bush. Could he not just answer a simple damn question and spare her the silly ‘I am mysterious’ act, ‘cause it so wasn’t working for him. Fixing him with an appropriately serious expression, her brow crinkled with confusion when he looked away for a moment.

Looking back at her, Max simply lift a hand, his index finger pointing to the roof as if it made all the sense in the world and stared at her with his glassy ‘look into my eyes’ dead fish gaze he seemed to think made him look all intent and sexy but really made her want to giggle. Just barely quelling the urge to roll her eyes, she instead pretended to follow the movement of his hand.

"You came… from…upstairs?" she guessed, cocking a brow and shaking her head as she stared at him blankly, not quite understanding the point of his little gesture. What, had they started a game of charades when she wasn’t paying attention? Did that mean one word, one syllable? One point? Actually, she wished he’d just get to the damn point so she could get back to what she’d been doing before he’d rudely interrupted.

Max sighed, looking down briefly, his tongue flitting out to wet parched lips as he fidgeted before lifting his hand to dramatically point towards the ceiling once more, putting a little more emphasis behind the gesture and reaching higher into the air.

“The roof?” she queried, looking away to hide the smirk hovering at her lips when his brow pinched with annoyance and he watched her strangely, shaking his head as he ran his hands through his hair with agitation. Spinning on his heel, he walked a few paces away before turning back to study her thoughtfully. Turning back to him, she schooled her face into an appropriately confused, innocent mask. “I mean seriously Max...you're confusing me.”

“No” he growled, walking back towards her as he looked around surreptitiously, he closed in on her, invading her space once more. This guy really needed to learn the concept of personal space. Hadn’t he seen Dirty Dancing? Obviously not. Sighing, she met his eyes as he once again pointed emphatically, raising his arm the full length. Ok, point. Pointed? Well, she could name something that was pointed and it wasn’t his finger.

“What, you mean there really are freaks living in the school attic? I thought that was just one of those stupid rumors...” she trailed off thoughtfully, moving to put some distance between them since he obviously hadn’t a clue of proper social etiquette and hoped he’d get the hint that she just didn’t give a damn about his theatrics. Maria on the other hand…now they’d be a match made in heaven. “Wait…is this like the whole People Under the Stairs bit, because that was a really creepy movie and I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Max’s mouth gaped at her words, stunned by her babbling commentary and dropped his hand, holding them out in front of him in speechless appeal, trying to figure out if she were being serious or mocking him. Which if he had a lick of sense he’d realize it was the latter. But then again, you couldn’t very well expect much from a man that thought that simply pointing to the ceiling adequately explained his origins.

“But you don’t have the whole weird-tinged skin thing going on, so you can’t be. You don’t, right?” she mocked lightly, peering at him closely as if searching for some kind of skin color variation that might prove otherwise. Pulling back, she cocked her head, tapping her lips with her finger as she nodded her head gravely. “That doesn’t look like make-up, but then again, with some of the professional stuff you just can’t tell the difference.”

Still flabbergasted, Max stared at her for a moment longer before shaking his head and threw up his hands in exasperation, his forehead furrowing as he brushed past her muttering under his breath. Storming towards the classroom door, she barely heard his parting shot as the door slammed behind him, making her jolt slightly. “Never mind.”

Staring at the door, she shrugged her shoulders before snickering under her breath and shaking her head at the whole scene. Turning towards the band equipment, she smirked as she made the faint outline of her companion’s shape and couldn’t believe Max had almost spilled his beans before even checking the vicinity.

“You can come out now,” she quipped dryly, watching as a familiar head of spiky, dark-blond hair popped up from his hiding place, his brow pursed in annoyance as he stared at the door, shaking his head at his pseudo brother’s idiocy. He would have nearly given them up without a thought if Liz hadn’t handled the conversation the way she did. And what the hell had been with that pointing thing. Yeah, that said a whole lot, genius.

Moving toward the petite brunette, he smirked right back at her; damn glad she was on their side and not the FBI’s or other potential enemies. Smiling appreciatively, he crowded her back against the music cabinet, watching her intently as he lifted his hand and cupped the nape of her neck, rubbing his thumb over her thrumming pulse.

“So you're aliens, huh?” she asked breathlessly, her heart speeding up as his head dipped towards hers, her eyes sliding half-mast as she stared at the full, pink lips hovering over hers. Licking her lips nervously, she met fiery bourbon eyes, her breath hitching at the heat radiating off his body and grinned wickedly, unable to resist one last crack. “Any truth to the whole probing myth?”

“Parker, shut up,” he commanded against her lips, rolling his eyes as his hands cupped her jaw, framing the delicate lines of her face and intent on getting back to their previous activity before Max's untimely arrival, crushed their mouths together, lips melting into a searing kiss.

[Ashita]

Whims - Thanks, but you know it was our banter that fueled that little piece. Plus that little comment about people in the attic fueled the whole people under the stairs tangent. Glad you liked it and I'm posting this now so you can get yours up next. Because that one is hilarious.

Kris - Glad that you're liking our little spoof series. We've had fun plotting and bouncing different scenes off each other and well, just making ourselves laugh. Whims and I really need to collaborate more.

Barbara - I know what you mean. I haven't watched the series in a long time because I just find fanfic more interesting, well thought out and planned better. Not to mention, I can't see my favorite pairing on screen. I'm such a diehard polarist these days, I have trouble with CC. lol! Thanks!

AN: So I don't know if I made this clear, but this series is created by Whims and myself. Some of the drabbles will be written by myself, while others will be written by her, just so you know. This one was written by me, with a paragraph submitted by Whims. Credit goes to her for the paragraph that starts with "For me and you to what, Max? Breathe the same air? ..." This particular drabble spoofs the end of the Pilot where Max tells Liz they can't "be". We hope you enjoy!

This drabble contains lines from the Pilot to set the scene.
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Different

“Hey,” Max greeted, shuffling his feet nervously as he approached her, his shoulders scrunched up into his neck as he watched her in defeat, although, she didn’t quite understand the dark cloud that surrounded him. But then again, she figured the whole angst and wallowing bit appealed to his need to appear as the perfect Byronic hero.

“Hey,” Liz greeted cautiously, barely suppressing the urge to search for something sharp to stab herself, or better yet, him with repeatedly. Not that it’d do any good, he’d just end up trying to ‘save’ her again and this time, he was sure to get caught with the Sheriff lurking nearby, just looking for a reason to turn him into a pin cushion. Sighing, she was resigning herself to yet another pointless conversation with Captain Clueless when he invaded her space and reached towards her face, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. What the hell? “Oh.”

“You had a, uh....” Max whispered; smiling at her gently and fumbling around as if he were searching for the appropriate word and it kept eluding him. Not that it was all that surprising since he couldn’t even explain his origins with anything better than pointing and reciting mysteriously that he wasn’t ‘from around here.’ Insightful really. Not. Liz watched him quietly, raising her eyebrows and waited patiently for him to continue and nearly rolled her eyes when he shrugged sheepishly.

Hair Max. It's called hair. It’s a fiber made of keratinized proteins, generated when the hair bulb takes nutrients from the derma papilla…never mind, that’s far too complex a concept for someone who can’t even distinguish his right from his left. By the way the whole disappearing act in bio was genius. Perfect way to say, ‘hey, I’m hiding something.’

“Hair thing, right,” she replied, barely holding back the urge to sigh once more and squirmed uncomfortably as he crowded her. What is it with this guy? Seriously this whole getting up in her face thing was beyond creepy. The next thing you know he’d be climbing up to her balcony and stalking…oh wait, been there done that when he “saw” her. He’s lucky she liked Michael too much turn his stalker ass in. “Thanks.”

“Sure…Liz, it's not safe,” Max replied, shifting in front of her as he ducked his face, trying to look shame-faced and shy. Oh yeah, now you try to play the gentleman and look innocent. Convenient. What happened to that when you invaded my sanctuary and proceeded to spy on me? Yeah, sure, I believe you Max. And maybe next you can sell me a bridge. I’m sure the Golden Gate would look awesome in my backyard, if I had one. “I mean, for you and, and me to...it's not safe.”

For me and you to what, Max? Breathe the same air? Cause given the way Michael's staring at you right now you're probably right; not to mention my brand new violent urges inspired by your insipid attempts at romance, or whatever the hell it is you call a ten-year stalking campaign...

“You and me?” She queried, pulling back sharply, her eyes widening with surprise and staring at him as if he’d grown another head. Of course, the oblivious little psycho would assume that she, a poor, helpless, little human girl, would trip all over herself to garner the attentions of the misunderstood, mysterious alien simply because he tried to put a force on her. Yeah, didn’t think I caught that did you, you psycho?

Although, she could name one, sandy-haired, bad-boy alien she didn’t mind putting a force on her. He could be as forceful as he chose, any day or night. Mmmm, now there was a yummy thought. In fact, she was ready to blow this joint and take intergalactic relations to the next level if she could ever shake the leech…

“Yeah,” Max said softly, shaking her out of her lustful but far more interesting thoughts and he looked away bashfully before turning back to her with what she assumed was his attempt to look soulful, but really reminded her of a deer trapped in the headlights.

“I don't care,” she replied, sighing when his face lit up and held up a hand to cut off the rush of simpering, sugary babble she sensed was just dying to erupt from his lips. “No, I really don’t care. First of all, there's a you and me? Mighty presumptuous for someone who's never even tried to kiss me yet. I'd wonder if aliens even kissed in your culture, but trust me...they do and oh do they. Well at least one does.”

“Huh?” he asked, his brow finally pinching slightly in confusion before he brushed her words aside, obviously set on his path and no one was going to deter him, even that tricky, unwelcome thing called reality. It was like he was reading from a script and nothing was going to stop him from saying his required lines. Who wrote this stuff?

“I really, really wish that this could be something, you know, more, but it can't,” he sighed mournfully, obviously trying for the brooding, romantic hero that sacrificed himself for the good of his chosen damsel, but failing to realize that said damsel had bigger fish to fry. Did he not hear a damn thing she said? “We're just...”

“Different?” she supplied skeptically, shaking her head as she stared Michael with barely disguised disbelief, pleading with him to end her misery before she ended up taking off her boot and clubbing Max over the head. Grumbling under her breath when he smirked and remained in the background, she vowed she’d make the teasing bastard pay.

“Yeah,” Max agreed, relief lacing his tone that she seemed to understand and quirked his lips in a half-smile, making those violent urges resurge and snapping any patience she had left with the idiot alien. Controlling prick. Shouldn’t you have thought of that before you insinuated yourself into my life? Just couldn’t let things slip out of your grasp could you, goes with the whole stalker mentality.

“Really? We're different? Who would have thought…” she drawled, cocking her head to the side mockingly and staring at him with feigned wonder and smirked when he frowned. “Glad you informed me otherwise I’d wonder if this whole alien thing was some bizarre pick-up line. Although, that thing Michael does with his tongue...yeah, no way that's human.”

“What?” Max sputtered; his face and ears flushing an inhuman shade of red, making the abnormally large appendages stand out even more than usual. Actually, the ears should have been a dead give away to his alien status now that she thought about it – there was no way anything human created that. Well, at least that little tidbit managed to break through his fog of denial for a moment, although she doubted it’d last. “Liz, you and Michael can’t…”

“Too late for that, Maxwell,” Michael quipped from behind her, startling her out of her reverie and she tipped her face to his, glaring as he snickered. Oh, so now you decide to come to my rescue you perverse bastard. Lets see how hard you’re laughing later.

“Been there, done that...many times over actually. Ready to bounce, babe?” he continued mischievously, sliding his laughing eyes to her. Jolting when a steel hand clamped possessively on her ass, she nearly snickered when Max choked and twitched as if he were having a seizure as they walked away. Did aliens have seizures? Whatever. She had more important things to do, like teaching a certain alien a lesson. “By the way, the alien perks, man...you wouldn't believe them.”

[Whimsicality]

Ashita: Just as hilarious as the first one! I am so glad you came up with this series because both reading and writing these drabbles is ridiculously fun....I've said it before, but I'll say it again, You Rock!



A/N: So my first addition to this delightfully mocking series is set during The Morning After and contains a few lines of dialogue from said episode, which, of course, I do not own.

Paranoia

Liz bit her lip, turning the encounter over in her mind, and then sighed, realizing what she needed to do. Gritting her teeth and reminding herself that this was all for Michael’s sake, not to mention her own since she was sure being healed by an alien meant you fell into the dissectible category, she walked up to Max and smiled inanely, cheeks already aching with forced cheer. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He replied with a suddenly glowing smile, completely oblivious to how much talking to him willingly pained her. “How’s it going?”

How do you think it’s going Mr. Clueless? I have a stalker Sheriff, a stalker ex boyfriend, not to mention you, all thanks to, oh, you again. But saying that out loud would probably blow his poor little brain, or at the very least make him unleash his ungodly imitation of puppy dog eyes, so instead she took her smile up another notch. “Good.” He beamed, clearly assuming that she meant because of him, and she barely repressed an eye roll before getting to the point of this already grating conversation. “Um, was that weird?”

“What?” He asked, confusion wrinkles marring his forehead as she fought an exasperated sighed.

Honestly, how oblivious was he? Their new ‘teacher’ was A. either lying or just ridiculously incompetent, even by their oh-so-stringent public education standards, and B. far too interested in a ditching teenager, which, hello, was a given in any classroom in the United States. But clearly he needed it spelled out for him so she batted her eyelashes and continued innocently, “That substitute just asked all of those questions about Michael. What was that about?

“I’m sure she was just taking attendance.” He said in what he must have thought was a reassuring, rather than depressingly ignorant, tone of voice.

“Right.” She replied dryly, not hiding her disbelief very well in the face of his aggravating lack of paranoia, except for whenever he felt like playing the alien in distress card apparently, like when he wanted to feel self-righteous and end their imaginary relationship before it began, ignoring the fact that she’d rather date either of her other stalkers over him. Including the one old enough to be her father.

Despite being a generally oblivious dunderhead, he apparently noticed his failure to soothe her and made another doomed attempt at placating her. “Liz, don’t worry about it. No one’s suspicious of Michael. It’s me.”

Liz noticed his stress on the word me and balled her hands into fists to keep herself from spewing a tirade against his unearned egocentricity. Did he really think it would be that hard for anyone with a brain to make the jump from one kid found wandering in the desert being an alien, to the two other kids also found wandering in the desert to be aliens to? And unlike he and his sister, Michael was a relatively easy target, with no parents or friends other than this sucking black hole of self-centeredness, to question if he suddenly disappeared.

Well, clearly she was the stupid one here for actually thinking he might notice or care about anything outside of his carefully constructed bubble world. Her bad. “Okay.” She finally said with a smile that implied she actually bought into his crap, incredibly tempted to smack his answering smile right off his insipid face. It was definitely time to go find the alien who actually chose to use his enhanced brain, and see what they could come up with, after a nice heated makeout session to clear her head of this unpleasant little episode.

[Ashita]

Kris - I agree, she just needs to take her boot and club him over the head with it ....repeatedly. lol! I'm glad you're enjoying Michael and Liz in this as Whims and I are having a blast with this little series. They are so mischievous and snarky.

Kiara - So glad to see you. I'm sorry life has been so rough for you lately. My thoughts are with you. Yeah, little about the pointing thing made sense, which is why I was making fun of it in chat with whims and then it just snowballed into this drabble. And the next thing we knew...we had several others plotted out. *grins* This is what happens when we egg each other on. I have to agree with all of your comments about Michael and Liz being a better match and the disappoint they never pursued that on the show. I think it would have been a far more interesting pairing than Max and Liz. Not to worry with us wussing on that... And yes...that whole ignoring the threat to Michael pissed me off too...as you can tell in this next drabble.

AN: So this particular drabble follows the infamous 360 degree goof by Topolsky in geometry. Some lines were taken from the Morning After to set the scene. Sadly, Whims is pretty busy with personal stuff at this time, so she won't be posting for a few days, but I do have another that follows this in the eraser room that I'll post as soon as I finish it. Enjoy!
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Distraction

“But she pulled other students’ records,” Max replied as they walked down the hall, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he chewed on a pencil, a particularly nasty habit of his. Didn’t he know that most human mouths are dirtier than a toilet? But of course the alien Con-Juan probably thought he was exempt from that little tidbit.

What had he been saying again? Oh right, well of course she pulled other student records you nitwit, she unlike some people who shall remain nameless, actually understands the concept of stealth and not giving yourself up. Ring any bells Maxwell? You know like you fleeing the Crashdown after your little hand trick and most recently, you bailing from bio when they didn’t even want your cheek cells. Yeah…like that didn’t scream guilty.

“Well, yeah, but the point is that she pulled Michael’s,” Liz explained again patiently, looking up at him seriously and hoping he’d get his head out of his ass long enough to focus on something other than her breasts. Sorry Max, they’re not going to talk back to you no matter how long you stare at them. Although, it’d be funny to see his reaction if she were to suddenly lift one and have ‘speak’ to him.

Actually, can that thought. It’d probably just encourage his interest and she had a hard enough time shaking him off, having the annoying habit of clinging to her like gum to shoes. With the way her luck was holding lately, his warped pea brain would likely see it as an invitation or a come on and then she’d never get rid of the little creep. It was bad enough that she had him following her around like a kicked puppy, even with Michael acting as guard dog.

“Yeah, but Liz, there were lot of files there, it could have been legitimate,” Max protested, taking the pencil out of his mouth and shoving it behind one of his gargantuan ears and she barely quelled the urge to shudder with disgust. That was just…so disgusting. Thankfully she never had to get up close and personal with him, well except when he tried to insinuate himself in her personal space. Like now.

“Legitimate? Please tell me you’re joking Max. Did you not hear her in the classroom?” she asked incredulously, spinning around to pin him with a disbelieving look, losing all pretense of her sweet, patient good-girl persona in the face of his utter stupidity and complacency. Damn, Michael has been a real bad influence on her…in more ways than one. “She didn’t even know that a triangle has 180 degrees…”

Of all the idiot, ignorant excuses she had heard blurt out of his mouth over the past few days, this had to top them. Well, of course the egotistical prick would see it this way. As long as it didn’t burst that pathetic little delusional bubble or rock his ‘love’ boat, he was happy to sweep those concerns under the rug. Damn the fact his self-proclaimed pseudo brother potentially had an alien hunter on his ass, as long he got to play human, he didn’t care. Self-centered, selfish asshat.

She was tempted take that pencil he had behind his ear and shove it places best left unmentioned if she wasn’t concerned of what he might do if she got that close after his little ‘I have to touch you so I can control your mind’ bit. Sniveling little runt.

“Liz, you can’t just show up at Michael’s and get him riled up like that,” he placated, realizing he had managed to raise her ire somehow and fixed her with his torturous version of puppy eyes that really looked like a fish out of water. “You don’t know him. He’s not big into ‘let’s go over our options.’ He acts on things.”

You mean instead of standing around like a passive idiot just waiting to be slaughtered? What a great idea, Max. Why didn’t we think of that? Oh, I know, because we actually use our brains. And riled up? Maxie boy, you have no idea just how riled up he got after our little chat and I do not mean in the flying off half-cocked and…well actually come to think of it, he was cocked and ready, but for a different reason entirely.

And you’d be surprised just how well I know your fellow alien, like that little spot on his thigh that just sends him over the moon, yeah, very well acquainted with that. I have to wonder how well you know the man because let me tell you, he is very open to discussing the options in certain arenas and does he ever act on them, dirty little alien that he is. Wait, why was she talking to him instead of exploring her options with Michael? Obviously she had to get her head examined.

“Liz…Liz?” Max called, his voice grating through her lascivious thoughts and she turned to him with exasperation. Right, she had been talking to the idiot hadn’t she? If you could call beating ones head against a brick wall a discussion. She should have just tracked down Michael and spared herself the pain of going up against the King of Wishful Thinking. In fact, maybe she’d track his sexiness down right now.

“Huh?” She murmured, shaking her thoughts away for the second time. Damn, that man was becoming a distraction. Sighing, she focused on Max, her brow pinching when she saw his fond, indulgent smile and realized she had been unintentionally staring at him. Shit, this was bad. “Look Max, I just was worried and thought Michael should know. I have to get to class.”

Walking away quickly, she shuddered as she felt his hot, unwanted gaze sliding over her body and searched the halls for Michael, needing to erase that look from her mind. Maybe in the shower, that might make her feel clean again, and replace that dratted locker room fantasy Max had foisted off on her with something much, much better.

[Ashita]

AN: Thanks for your comments Barbara! Some lines for this drabble were taken from Episode #102 the Morning After. I do not in any way claim them for my own because, well I hated this entire scene and its complete and utter disregard to logic. Thus, I had to rewrite it. Enjoy!

Eraser Room

“So, um, this is the Eraser Room,” Liz murmured absently, slightly uncomfortable that she was in such tight confining spaces with the Delusional Boy Wonder and wondering what on Earth was simmering in his insipid pea brain to ask her to meet him here of all places. God this was all she needed today. Stuck with his idiocy while she was still feeling slightly violent after their last conversation.

When she had gotten the note, she had all but ran to the infamous room hoping it was sent by a certain spiky, dark-blond with irresistible lips wanting to ‘confer and strategize’ their next movements regarding their not-so-bright and all-too-nosy teacher. Followed by a hot stolen kiss or two or ten. Maybe a little nibbling, some groping and definitely a little dose of naked skin were in order. God, she did love the taste of his skin.

“I’ve never been here before,” she drawled under her breath, shaking her head at the thought that when she finally met someone here, it was at the behest of her friendly neighborhood stalker. Shuddering at the thought, she watched him warily, his cloyingly sweet smile grating her nerves and setting her teeth on edge. God, she hoped this didn’t get all over the school. The last thing she needed was for people to actually think she’d kiss him, not to mention his safety was in question if this got back to Michael.

“I just thought we should be somewhere private,” he explained hastily, shoving his hands in his pockets as he pretended he wasn’t staring at her ass. Scuffing his toe on the ground, he sent her what he must have hoped was an engaging, ‘look at me I’m innocent’ smile that really was just a grotesque leer and nodded his head self-importantly.

Right Max, because it totally makes sense for us to discuss your alien lineage in a place where anyone can walk in at any given time. It’s not like they don’t carry keys on the possibility the door might be locked. And it wouldn’t look at all suspicious if the door remained jammed for no apparent reason and surprise, you, a suspected alien pop out when they walk away. I’m sure they’ll accept it as pure coincidence

Or worse, they’ll actually get the door open, see us hovering in the shadows of the most notorious make out area in the school and assume that I actually want to be trapped in here with you. Wow that was a vile thought. She really did need that shower now. Michael, save me before I kill your oblivious brethren.

“Right,” she said, raising her brows skeptically and fought the urge to cringe as she locked the door, knowing that if someone was determined to get it in, the flimsy lock wouldn’t do a damn thing. But hopefully it’d give her the few precious seconds necessary to stop him from spilling more deep, lifelong secrets he shouldn’t be sharing with people he’s never even talked to before.

“You were right about Topolsky,” he sighed, nodding his head gravely as if he were delivering an earth-shattering revelation that needed to be shared with the rest of the clueless world. Cocking her brow, she bit back a smirk and just waited for it. Come on Max, bubble-bursting time. “She isn’t who she appears to be.”

No, really? You mean you finally realized that there is something seriously wrong with a math teacher not knowing a simple mathematical concept like how many degrees are in triangle? Well thank you Captain Obvious for confirming what I figured out yesterday, you know, before you stuffed your head even further up your ass and brushed aside my concerns for Michael’s safety.

“Oh,” she replied, pasting a fake smile on her face, fighting the urge to throttle the boy in front of her for being blind to the reality of their situation. ‘Isn’t who she appears to be?’ That was like saying Mount Everest is kinda tall. Shaking her head, she hoped that he’d get to the point so she could get out of there before she had a body to hide. Be nice Liz, remember, he is Michael’s friend, whether he deserved the other alien’s friendship or not. “Okay, so was there anything else? I kinda want to get back to class.”

And as far away from you as possible.

“She’s been using this office,” he pointed to a vent in the wall, which conveniently looked down into their topic of interest’s office and shrugged, smiling enigmatically as if that was a sufficient explanation. Pursing her brow, she pinned him with a confused smile and looked into the office momentarily before turning back to him as she tried to fathom the latest tangled workings of his brain, barely choking back a snort when he continued. “I thought we should find out why she’s here.”

Liz watched him incredulously, her mouth gaping and eyes bugging, utterly fascinated by his completely illogical thought process. Yeah, great idea Max, because I’m sure that she’s going to conveniently let something slip in a public school office, genius. Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to tell him exactly how stupid she thought that idea was, when the door flew open, revealing a highly agitated Michael.

Throwing her a questioning look, his brow puckered as he noticed her dumbfounded expression and turned towards his flushing brother, wondering what the hell had happened before he arrived. Flicking a contemplative glance over Liz, he noted that she didn’t look disheveled thankfully, his gut clenching at the idea that Max might have tried kissing his girl. He’d gladly hurt him for that one.

“Hey Max, thanks for getting her out of class for me bro,” Michael smiled tightly, wrapping his arm around the still sputtering girl, his face darkening when he saw Max try to argue with him. Cutting him off, he tightened his hold on the petite brunette, pulling her protectively into his side while pinning his pseudo brother with a blatant ‘mine’ look. “But you might want to head off before they notice you’re gone. We don’t need any more unwanted scrutiny.”

“But I…” Max stuttered, his heart sinking further as he noticed Liz clinging to the other boy and realized that he wasn’t going to get her to listen anything more today. He’d hoped by sharing his memories with her that she’d be more open to the idea of them as…well that had been pointless. Turning to the door, he muttered. “Fine.”

Michael watched him stoically as the door closed with a quiet snick and pulled away from Liz, walking over to lock and seal the door to prevent any interruptions. Turning back to the pretty brunette, he cocked a brow, careful to keep his face unreadable, slightly confused over the nagging touch of possessive jealousy that flared when he saw her and Max together. Invading her space, he towered over her, irritation coursing through him as he asked. “What was that about? And why were you in here with him?”

“Hey, I didn’t want to be here,” she flared, glaring at his contentious tone as she crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to feel bad for something she hadn’t instigated. Resting a hand on her hip, she jabbed him in the chest. “I thought I was meeting you. Although, I should have realized something was up when I actually got a note instead of being carted off without a word. How did you find out so fast?”

“I overheard Maria say you were meeting someone in the eraser room and since I knew it wasn’t me, I thought I’d…yeah,” he muttered, scratching his brow, flushing slightly as he recalled how fast he jetted out of class intent on finding out who dared infringe on his territory. Looking away uncomfortably, he cleared his throat and tried again, smirking when she cocked a brow at him. “So what did he want?”

“He wanted to inform me that Topolsky wasn't,” she snickered, biting back a smirk at his uncharacteristic outburst and wisely ignored it, knowing it would make him uncomfortable if she delved too deeply into his actions. Rolling her eyes, she continued with a mocking smile and raised her fingers to make air quotes. “Who she appeared to be.”

“Well no shit,” he snorted, a derisive chuckle bubbling over his lips as he shook his head at his fearless leader’s latest bumbling attempt to insinuate himself into Liz’s life. Watching the girl out of the corner of his eye, he was thankful that she seemed to take the Topolsky threat a lot more seriously than Max did, although he wished she’d come to him right away. It would have saved them both a headache. “That’s what we’ve been saying all along.”

“Oh, and he wanted to spy on her, to ‘find out why she’s here,” she added, smacking her palm to her brow and rolling her eyes mockingly as if shocked she could forget such an important revelation, eliciting an appreciative, rumbling laugh from her companion. Shaking her head in disgust, she chewed on her bottom lip and wondered for the dozenth time how the other alien had managed to survive as long as he had without detection.

“Yeah, because a highly trained government agent is going to be stupid enough to let her cover slip in a public school office where anyone could walk in at any time,” Michael muttered, scratching his brow thoughtfully as he tried to figure out how to keep this situation from blowing up in their faces. Looks like he was going to be a model student for a while so that the woman wouldn’t have a viable reason to look into him.

“Hey you and I know that,” Liz smirked, cocking her head derisively, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she turned back to the alien in front of her, her breath hitching as caramel eyes flicked up, traveling over her intently. Licking her lips, her stomach jumped as they heated and he walked over to her slowly. “But apparently it made sense to the pinhead.”

“I’ve been a bad influence on that mouth of yours, Parker,” he snickered softly and came to a standstill in front of her, invading her space once more as he lofted teasingly. “Better watch it or people might see through that perfect façade of yours.”

“Maybe it’s time,” she murmured, her skin flushing a delicate pink as their bodies brushed together slightly, a slow, hot burn rolling over her body as he placed a possessive hand on her hip. “I mean after all, Maria knows I cut class to see you in the Eraser Room. It’s bound to be all over the school now.”

“Please tell me she doesn’t know our secret,” he replied, a trickle of alarm dancing over his spine at the thought. He had a bad feeling that she if she were dragged into the conspiracy it would end up being a huge headache for them all. “She can’t stop talking to save her life.”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” she quipped dryly, her lips quirking slightly at the relieved sigh the passed his lips as he pressed his head to the top of hers and her heart sped up as he pulled her against his chest. “I’m not the one we have to worry about. I’ve been keeping your secret since the eighth grade.”

“Yeah, but you have to admit it was a funny prank on Tommy,” he snickered as he lifted his head, his eyes flashing with amusement as he walked her back against the wall, pinning her between it and his body, sinking his hips against hers, rocking softly as his hands kneading her waist gently.

“Yeah, he never lived that down,” she whispered breathlessly, swallowing thickly as his head bent and he pressed lips to her lobe, brushing the skin lightly, his warm, damp breath feathering over it as he whispered seductively.

“You know, speaking of the Eraser Room,” he murmured, tracing his finger over the sliver of skin peeking through her v-neck shirt and jeans, lightly dragging it back and forth over the silken skin and smiled wolfishly as her breath stuttered. Splaying his hands around her waist, he pulled her deeper into him, nudging his nose against hers, tilting her mouth up. “We’ve never christened this area of the school.”

“That’s because you prefer to drag me behind the bleachers,” she replied softly, her eyes latching onto the soft, full, pink lips hovering over hers and slid her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the short, fine hairs kissing the back of his neck. Flicking her gaze back to his, she inhaled sharply at the smoldering intensity shining in dark whiskey irises.

“We should rectify that now,” he lofted, brushing his lips over hers gently, smiling when her mouth followed his as he pulled back to taunt her, sliding one hand up to tangle in molasses locks as the other snaked her waist, cinching her tightly to his body. “Whadda ya say, Parker? You going to let me pop your Eraser Room cherry?’

“Well, when you put it that way…” she smirked and moaned quietly when his lips brushed over hers once more. Drawing a shuddering breath, she buried her fingers into his silky spikes, dragging his head down, murmuring against his lips as their mouths crashed together. “How can I refuse?”


AN2: You're up Whims!

[Whimsicality]

A/N Thanks for the feedback everyone! And thank you as always to Ashita for inspiring this brilliant little series. And just to comment again, that this series, as K, and our original author's note stated, is for fun, to spoof and mock, and is not for anyone who's easily offended. This isn't a serious fic, and plenty of both I and Ashita's fics have Max as a good guy, but this particular one is for rampant bashing and if that's not your cup of tea, then there's no need to read it!

This little drabble is set at the end of the same episode during a scene that should become immediately apparent

Miscommunication

Liz slumped against her seat, surreptitiously rubbing her fingers against her temple so Max didn’t notice what she was doing and offer to heal her, all the while wondering what the hell she’d been thinking to agree to this little spying venture. Yes, Topolsky was clearly up to something, and yes, she wanted to protect Michael, but trapped in a jeep with Max for a stakeout, that had all the qualities of one of the recurring nightmares she’d been having ever since he revealed the true depths of his obsession.

Suddenly Max’s hand wrapped around her twist and tugged her closer until she was practically leaning across his lap as he hissed, “There, she just pulled up.”

“I’m not blind, Max.” She hissed back, yanking her wrist away and then groaning when her ring fell to the floor of the jeep. Great, that was just great, now she had to go digging around his feet, which was bound to give all sorts of ideas. What a wonderful idea this trip had been.

Shooting him a suspicious glance, she bent down, feeling gingerly around with her hand and wincing every time she brushed against his leg and heard his breath hitch. Just as her fingers actually closed on her ring, she heard a decidedly unexpected, and very panicky voice. “Liz!”

Sitting back up with a sigh of relief, she cocked a quizzical eyebrow at her just turned ex-boyfriend, ignoring Max’s irritated huff. “Kyle, what are you doing here?”

“I...I thought…what are you doing here?” He exclaimed, stuttering over his words.

She stared at him, suddenly realizing what he must have thought, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Oh that was just gross. How could he think she would do that with Max if she wouldn’t with him? That was at least ten steps down on the ladder of attractiveness Maria was always babbling about. She wouldn’t be caught doing anything sexual in a car with Max. Ever. And it pissed her off just a little that Kyle thought she actually would.

“Seriously Kyle, we’re just waiting for Michael and I dropped my ring. So don’t get your panties in a twist, there is nothing going on between Max and me.” She said firmly, laughing a little inside at the pout Max got over her stress on the word nothing, and at how much of an affect Michael was having on her word choices. Not that she would tell him that, cocky little bastard would gloat all evening and she’d just gotten him back for not rescuing her earlier at the Crash festival.

Kyle’s lips twitched into a faint smile; clearly he too had noticed Max’s little self-pity party. “Fine Parker, I’ll talk to you later about where you’re picking up that kind of language, since my attempts at ruining your image never worked.”

Liz giggled softly as Max turned a glare on Kyle, apparently tired of being ignored. “You should go now.”

Kyle looked decidedly unimpressed by Max’s ‘threatening’ tone, but after glancing at Liz and taking in her small nod, he rolled his eyes and left, Liz noticing that Topolsky was pulling away too, rendering this entire expedition pointless, while Max turned to look at her with large, pleading eyes.

“Did I do something? To make you mad?” He asked, voice trembling with sincerity as she bit back a raucous laugh. Make her mad? He’d healed her and not even bothered to erase the bloodstains, leaving her with a mess to clean up and a suspicious Sheriff following her every move. He’d then proceeded to do his best to seduce her, all the while claiming that they couldn’t be together because it wasn’t safe. Though apparently it was safe to be where she was, to follow her, and to drag her into alien business when he felt like it, though not when she did of course.

Not to mention slipping into her head and taking a peek around, then returning the favor by shoving a bunch of unwanted memories on her, memories which served to creep her the fuck out by just how long he’d been watching her, waiting for the opportune moment to pounce and reveal his secret. Make her mad? Try making her resist the urge to flee screaming every time he entered the room, or to knee him in the nuts and tell him to stay the hell away from her before she turned him into the Sheriff, not for being an alien, but for harassment.

Before she could verbalize all of that, Michael appeared at the passenger side door, leaning into the jeep and smirking at both of them. “Well isn’t this nice Max, I always wanted a delivery service for my girlfriend.”

Max gaped but Liz just raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I be consulted before I’m given a title? Here I just thought we were friends with benefits?”

“Sorry babe.” Michael said with mock contriteness, running a seductive hand down her thigh as Max continued to sputter. “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Liz smirked, shooting Max a brief, wicked glance, before turning back to her new boyfriend. “Well, someone told me that alien and human relations weren’t safe, but I’m willing to risk it.”

“Great, let’s celebrate.” Michael replied with a leer, opening her door and helping her out, taking the opportunity to pinch her ass.

She laughed, leaning into him and planting a thorough kiss on his ridiculously kissable lips. Those aliens sure knew how to make them pretty. “Bye Max!” She called over her shoulder as Michael led her towards the desert, snickering at the way his skin had turned all blotchy with red and white patches. Maybe being stuck with him in his jeep hadn’t been so bad; all in all, she thought the evening had turned out pretty well.

[Whimsicality]

A/N: Thanks for all the feedback guys! Sorry it's been so long, we've both been busy with other fics, but we should have some more soon. We appreciate you all enjoying this in the spirit it is meant, fun mocking with not one drop of seriousness


A/N2: This scene is taken and altered from Toy House, and I would like to point out that 90% of the spoken dialogue is taken straight from the episode so yes, in fact season one Liz did have a backbone.

Excuses

Liz heard a faint tapping noise on the glass at the front of the restaurant and groaned softly to herself, knowing that if it was Michael he would have let himself in by now, which left her ever loving stalker, Max. Raising her head from where she was wiping down the last of her tables she barely repressed her instinctive glare, instead managing a faint smile as she walked over to let him in. “What’s up?

He shifted his feet, standing far too close for her comfort, and spoke to something in the general direction of her kneecaps. “Nothing. How’s it going?”

Well, at least he wasn’t staring at her chest, but if he was going to force his presence on her he could at least do her the courtesy of looking her in the face. Oh, and getting to the freaking point because he wouldn’t be here if nothing was going on. God how she hated that reply. Realizing that she would need to speak if she wanted to get this over with, she sighed softly and replied. “Fine. Are you all right?” Not that she cared, but, whatever, if it got him out of here she could play the clueless nice girl card.

“Yeah. Yeah.” He stated, tucking his hands in his pockets before finally lifting his face to meet hers, practically radiating pathetic misery. “I just…I want you to know that it’s okay. I mean…you don’t have to feel uncomfortable if you and Kyle got back together.”

What the hell? Where was that steaming pile of crap coming from? Raising her eyebrows and allowing some of her genuine irritation to slip into her tone, she kept her reply to that shocking statement to a one word minimum, not trusting herself with anything more. “What?”

“I saw you two together at the Crashdown yesterday.”

Right, because two people, who have known each other since they were three, talking in a public place where one of them worked and the other one ate on a regular basis, clearly meant they had the hots for each other. Of course, this was coming from the guy who ‘fell in love’ with someone he saw when he was eight, and who thought stalking was romantic, so for him that was almost logical.

Time to punch some reality through his thick skull. “Okay, um…Max, first of all, that couldn’t be further from what’s happening, and secondly…if it was happening, I wouldn’t need your permission, Max.” Cause really, who did he think he was? Even if they really did have some unspoken attraction, which, no, and not only no but hell no, unless he actually made a move, and she said yes, he had no say whatsoever over her love life.

Apparently she’d hurt his feelings because he took a step back, a sullen expression seeping over his features and upping his already insanely high annoyance factor. “I’m getting out of here. Now you sound like Isabel.”

Well look who won the random subject change award. What the hell did Isabel have to do with this? Was he stalking her too? Because that was a really disturbing image. “Why do I sound like Isabel, Max?”

He pouted. Actually pouted. “She’s got this thing all of a sudden that I’m controlling.”

Well, clearly Isabel was unforeseenly awesome and she needed to strike up a friendship with the blond, stat. Rolling her eyes at the still pouting little boy in front of her, she drawled sarcastically. “Oh, so it’s her thing.”

“What?” Max asked in clear astonishment, making her snort softly.

Oh he made it too easy, she’d have to share this with Michael later, an actual good use of their ability to receive flashes, instead of you know, forcing images of your stalking onto your stalking victim. “Max, just take a psych class, because you are controlling.”

He recoiled, gaping slightly, before making an attempt at a glare that came off more like a five year old whose hand got smacked for sneaking into the cookie jar. “Hey, I am who I am. I’ve got a lot going on, and I’m trying to make things work.”

A lot going on? Please, unless you counted stalking, apparently trying to control the lives of everyone around you, and living in an ignorant bubble world where nothing happened that he didn’t want to believe in, Max had nothing going on. “Max, you know what your problem is?” Well actually, that was a long list, so she should pare it down a bit. “You never actually open your eyes and see anything you don’t want to, so why don’t you grow up a bit, and start paying attention to the people you supposedly care about.”

Shaking her head in disgust as he stared blankly at her, bottom lip quivering, she turned and stalked away. She’d have to share this with Kyle too, he was good at creative payback when his friends weren’t being brutes. Of course Isabel had those mad dream invading skills, and clearly the girl had no problem messing with her brother, so maybe she’d give that a shot instead.

Of course that would be after using this whole incident as an excuse to kiss Michael, because he would definitely appreciate seeing the look on Max’s face when she didn’t bow down and accept his benevolence like a good little woman. Not that she needed an excuse to kiss him, but she would certainly take advantage of every opportunity for her favorite activity that Max felt like providing.

[Ashita]

AN: So, my brother was rewatching the series (ha...got my siblings hooked on it as well) and this scene just made me shake my head and rebirthed the snark muse. All spoken quotes are taken from Episode #102, The Morning After. I do not in any way claim these quotes as my own work; I was only using them to set up the resulting drabble.

Thanks to Yas for the beta job!
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Czechoslovakians?

“I mean, what do we even know about these people?” Maria squeaked, her voice pitching into a sound almost indiscernible to the human ear, and making Liz wince internally in sympathy for dogs everywhere if this was anything like the sound they were subjected to when their owners used dog whistles. Really, she was quite amazed that the human voice could pitch that note naturally. Sighing she walked away without answering, as she knew that her hysterical friend would never be happy with any answer she could give her, and fervently wished that Maria would finally take a hint and shut up.

“Nothing. How do we know that they’re not three-feet tall, green, and slimy?”

Or not.

Honestly, Maria had been babbling to herself for the past hour straight about Max, Isabel and Michael’s otherworldly attributes and not one intelligent observation or conclusion had bubbled out of her mouth yet. She understood that it was a difficult situation to wrap your head around, as well as Maria’s fear to a degree, having just found out, but that didn't necessitate the need to ramble on carelessly - and ceaselessly - it was almost as if she was just speaking to hear herself speak at this point and Liz wasn’t really necessary for an audience. Yet, at the same time, she didn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts, so she instead yapped Liz’s ear off in some misguided attempt to make sense of an event that couldn’t make sense in the known natural world.

Hence the term alien.

Rolling her eyes she walked around the backroom prepping for her tables, and wishing that her father would allow her to wear earplugs in order to block out the inane chattering spewing endlessly from her best friend; or better yet, would allow her to gag said best friend so she wouldn’t have to listen to this endless diatribe. Although, it was Maria’s own fault that she was freaking out. She had warned the other girl that she didn’t want to know this information and the blonde kept badgering Liz until she finally cracked and spilled everything in a desperate hope that she would just shut the hell up.

No dice.

And three-feet tall, green and slimy? Someone has been watching the science-fiction channel just a wee bit much these days. Trust me, Maria dear, there is nothing green or slimy about Michael. I know that one all too well.

“I guess we don’t,” Liz replied wearily, having said the same four words about a hundred times in the past hour. She didn’t think Maria was even hearing them anymore as the words had taken on the same placating tone of the ‘yes, dear,’ she often heard her father spout in an effort to quell her mother’s rising temper. In fact, they really did have the same resigned ring of someone trying to soothe the crazy beast that just happened to be raging fire over something she couldn’t do a damned thing about.

“And you know what else doesn’t, like, particularly please me?”

No Maria, please do tell me what has you in a twist, as if I couldn’t have already figured it out from the hour-long whine fest you have subjected me to; I really do have nothing better to do with my time than to listen to you. Although, that root canal I have been putting off? Yeah, even that is looking much more appealing right about now. It can’t possibly be more painful than this conversation. It really was difficult to sympathize when you couldn’t even get a word in edge wise, not to mention that an open café was hardly the forum to be addressing this subject.

“These powers,” she griped, tailing Liz like a heat-seeking missile, making the brunette surreptitiously rub her temples as she detected yet another string of nonsense just getting ready to erupt from Mount St. Maria; although, there was nothing saintly about onslaught of words that were about to so viciously rain down over her head like so much ash, smoke and rock reminiscent of the great volcanic eruptions of old. “How do we know they can’t just like wiggle their noses and poof us into oblivion?”

Ohhhhh, if only that were possible. I could call up Michael and…no, good thoughts, Liz, good thoughts. One must not kill nor sic alien boyfriends on one’s best friend, no matter how much they currently deserve it.

“I guess we don’t,” she shrugged once again, feeling a bit like a broken record. She wondered if she taped herself say those same four words over and over, then just played them back, rewound, and repeated ad nauseum…would Maria even notice that she, herself, had stopped responding? Or better yet, left the room entirely? That was certainly an idea. Tape herself saying something similar at different intervals and just hit play; and then she could focus on something much more interesting but it would seem as if she were truly listening. She might just have to experiment.

“Okay, you’re being like so casual about this, I want to choke you!” Maria yelled, apparently tired of being placated. Ah, well, it was fun while it lasted. She supposed she’d have to become a more active participant in the conversation. “Liz, we’re dealing with alie…”

Okay, enough was enough. Clapping a hand over Maria’s mouth, she smiled weakly as another co-worker walked in, staring at Maria as if she had grown another head. Although why they were surprised at Maria’s verbal diarrhea was beyond her; it wasn’t like it was an unnatural sight. Maria was usually running off at the mouth about something or another. Of course this time, she chose to babble about, of all things, a secret she vowed to keep; right there in an open room, where people were constantly walking in and out And that didn’t even begin to cover the fact that her voice carried once she started rambling.

Quiet she is not.

“Can you please not say that word in public?” Liz asked, sighing when Maria’s eyes widened and she looked around nervously, as if she were expecting an alien to jump out and attack her.

Or how about you just say nothing at all? That would be just fine with me because then I might actually be able to get something done; you know, like my actual job serving customers that are probably getting impatient because you’ve been too busy monopolizing my time with a conversation we shouldn’t even be having right now?

Just a thought.

Dropping her hand from Maria’s mouth, she pushed out the door impatiently and walked over to service station, hoping she had finally gotten through to her chatty friend.

“The point is that we don’t know anything about these Czechoslovakians.”

Or not. Honestly, what would it take to get through this girl’s head?

And Czechoslovakians? Really? I ask you not to say the word aliens because it would be a tad conspicuous in this town and you come back with Czechoslovakians? A group of people from a country that hasn’t even existed for the last ten years? No that wouldn’t stand out at all. I mean, I use the word Czechoslovakian all the time in my everyday life. Why, it’s just like saying apples or oranges. Not. No wonder you were stuck in remedial science.

Could you not have chosen a word that wouldn’t make people raise their eyebrows in question – like the cool crowd? Tourists? Foreigners? Visitors? Wayfarers? Voyagers? Travelers? Sightseers? Hell, even conventioneers would have been a better choice. They may hate you for being lumped into the same category as those brainless, obsessive conspiracy theorists, but at least people wouldn’t be currently looking at you like you sprouted a horn from your head because you’re using a term that isn’t even in use today.

“Are they good Czechoslovakians? Bad Czechoslovakians? We don’t know. Are they just random Czechoslovakians? For all we know, they don’t have their passports.”

“Who’s Czechoslovakian?” Alex piped up from behind them both, startling Liz out of her inner diatribe, only to prove her point spectacularly with his question. Somebody just shoot her now and put her out of her misery.

Oh, wait, that already happened and we all saw how that panned out.

[Ashita]

AN: All of the actual spoken quotes were taken directly from episode #102, The Morning After.

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Has anyone seen Michael Guerin?

"Guerin," The sub called out, looking around the room when silence filled it. Liz fought back a yawn and glanced around the room herself, noting Michael's empty seat. Well, that was no surprise there. She'd be more surprised if he actually showed up on time, or showed up at all for that matter given his 'dedication' to school. Turning back to the front of the room, she watched the sub – Topolsky wasn't it – look down at her roll sheet and ask again. "Michael Guerin? Is he here today?"

Uh, no. You see, when a student doesn't answer and everyone else is staring at you blankly, it likely means he isn't here. Not to mention that there is a fairly obvious empty desk that people looked at when you said his name; it really doesn't take a rocket science degree to put two and two together and figure out the obvious, now does it?

Unless you're a new teacher.

Liz studied the teacher in front of her critically, noting that she was definitely younger than her usual instructors and that the teacher seemed to have an almost nervous air about her, despite her trying to act as if she knew what she was doing, so yes…she had to be freshly out of school. Great; just what they needed – some fresh, bushy-eyed newbie trying out all the cool little tricks she learned in school to grab the students attentions (like – god forbid – acting as if she knew exactly what they were going through as she had been there herself) and routinely failing because it's math for crying out loud. Who honestly goes to school thinking, 'I can't wait to be a math teacher!' ?

She hated to admit it, but she couldn't wait for Mr. Singer to return. At least with him there was a chance she might actually learn something rather than watch the painful stumbling of a first time instructor.

"Does anyone know where Michael is?"

Wait, what?

She's still harping about Michael? Most teachers would have moved on after asking after a student two times; her questioning it three times had been a stretch, but Liz had been willing to cut her some slack since she was so obviously out of her depth. But four times? That certainly stood out as 'out of the ordinary' and given everything she had learned recently, she couldn't help but stare at their so-called sub suspiciously.

It was awfully convenient that Mr. Singer suddenly disappeared right after the shooting and the FBI started crawling all over town. They certainly hadn't made themselves at all conspicuous by running around in matching dark suits that just screamed 'federal officer.' I mean really, where did they get their ideas? Men in Black? Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith you are not.

Seriously people, if you're trying to get information from the locals, it's called blending in; you should at least attempt it. It's still unlikely to work because small town that we are, it is a myth that we are all backwater yokels without a clue as to how the real world works, give us a little credit; nor are we all obsessed with aliens – well until recently. I mean honestly, who would have believed they were actually among us. Well, unless you were talking about the people from the crash festival whose cerebral functions never operated beyond an autonomic level.

While she happily admitted that the chance of other intelligent life potentially within their galaxy, not to mention the greater probability in the other thousands upon thousands of galaxies in the universe, (after all, to think that 'humans' were the only advanced species in a system of billions upon billions of stars squared to the nth degree, would just be downright arrogant) she really hadn't believed that they had contacted Earth.

I mean, why?

Looking at her schoolmates, Liz shuddered at the thought of what might befall their planet if one of them were the aliens' first contact. They might as well just euthanize themselves right now.

Sighing, she watched as, in unison, the class turned to Max, and repressed a groan of defeat. If he acted anything like he did in biology, where he so brilliantly ran off instead of applying a little logic (and potentially playing the situation up by 'misunderstanding' the instructions and asking Liz to use her cheek cells in place of his), they were doomed. After all, 'student on the left' is a subjective term based upon where you are positioned in the lab room. The teacher didn't specify if she meant her left or the student's left. It could have been easily explained away.

Of course, she would have been suspicious, but , hey, you healed a gunshot wound in my stomach with your bare hand, brainiac; I was already suspicious.

"Evans, right? Max Evans?" Topolsky asked, looking at Max pointedly.

"Yeah?" Max replied, glancing up, with what she thought was a look of innocent, polite interest, but didn't quite pan out in that vein, and couldn't help but cringe internally. Really, why not just jump up and down and scream 'I'm different!' and then hand the pretty, little alien hunter a nice, long, sharp knife so she can dissect you into little, teeny-tiny pieces and put us all out of our misery.

The world would indeed be a safer place because you would cease to exist and we wouldn't be subjected to your unique brand of idiocy.

"Do you know where Michael Guerin is?"

"Uh, Michael's not really into Geometry."

That was…surprisingly coherent. Nice play of humor in order to deflect the blatant interest she had in Michael. Now if she continues to pursue this line of questioning, it would become immediately clear that Topolsky had more than roll call on her mind and Liz didn't think the supposed substitute was quite ready to out herself fully. Smirking silently as the rest of the class laughed at Max's joke, she slyly watched a brief flicker of annoyance flash through the blonde's eyes before she pasted a genial smile on her face.

Yeah, take that Miss Nosy.

Looking over at Max, she couldn't help the reluctant wave of admiration that passed through her at his response. Maybe he was starting to take this a little seriously? After all, he had to see just how odd the sub was acting and at such transparent timing. Looking into the flat, confounded look in his eyes, she doubted it.

"He's not into it," Topolsky repeated flatly.

That's what the man said, lady. Really do get over it.

"I guess I can understand that," the blonde continued with a tight smile, seemingly disappointed with the response. Really, what did she expect? That they were just going to pop out and say, 'yes, we're aliens; take me to your leader, as I'm sure you'll treat us kindly and with great respect.' Not. Well, actually, given Max's little flight in biology…maybe there was something to that. "Pretty uninspiring stuff. Let's open our books to page 228.

Liz flipped open her book, casting a long look at Max to see him busily opening his own, and mentally grimaced when he flashed a quick smile her way. She couldn't wait to get out of class so she could ask him what that had been all about and what his thoughts were on Topolsky.

[Ashita]

AN: So, I debated for a while on whether to post this one. It had been over a year since Whimsy and I had worked on this drabble-verse, and for some reason, I didn't have the drabble she wrote on this scene in my files, so I ended up writing a drabble based on it, thinking that we had discussed it, but never got around to it. When I sent it to her for approval, she reminded me that she'd already written one. Anyway, I decided to post it to show just how closely we think alike and really, this scene deserves to be doubly mocked.

All of the actual spoken quotes were taken directly from episode #102, The Morning After.

Finally, there is a quote from Shakespeare’s Hamlet used within the text. I’m sure it’s fairly obvious which one as it is still in use today. Again, I do not claim this as my own.

Thanks to Yas for beta'ing this piece!
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It’s Me

As they poured out of a routinely rousing period of geometry…okay, she couldn’t even keep a straight face herself at that thought. After all, scientist that she was, even she couldn’t find anything exciting about the class. While her analytical mind liked the absolute, concrete answers in her quickly destabilizing world, math was just math after all and there was no way to jazz it up no matter how the teachers tried year after year.

Sighing, she looked up, and seeing Max just ahead of her, quickly made her way to his side so she could ask him just what was up with that sub. She couldn’t have been more blatantly obvious in her interest in Michael and it hadn’t really seemed much to do with the absence itself. After all, she’s a sub. She’s only going to be here for a couple of days, so why should she care about the attendance of one student?

‘Something is rotten in the state of Denmark’ indeed.

Huffing a sigh of exasperation as they walked along silently, with Max just looking at her blankly, she decided to get this ball rolling in the hopes that she might be able to express her growing unease over Topolsky within the next millennium and greeted the Silent Wonder. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied shyly, and she immediately wanted impale herself on something sharp. In 0.3 seconds at that; a new record! Obviously, he was going to go the I’m-oblivious-to-everything-but-me route. Again. So…his normal state of being rather than the wiser, hypersensitive, what-on-Earth-does-that-sub-want-with-Michael? state of being that any rational person….oh right. She forgot rational and reality were dirty words in Maxland.

“How’s it going?

“Good, um, you know, things are just things are just normal, you know?” she replied, stumbling on her words in utter disbelief.

How do you think it’s going you unremitting moron? I was shot just days ago, healed by alien powers and now I have the sheriff hounding me, my friends are all nuts because they either know your secret or desperately want to know it, although they really aren’t even sure what the secret is, just that there is one and…oh, and now we have a nosy sub who has been asking leading questions in regards to Michael whereabouts. You remember him, right? Your brethren? Best friend? Fellow not-of-this-Earth being, as you so quaintly call yourself? And to top of it all off, you have managed to stick your head even further up your ass; if that’s at all possible. So everything is…actually…

“Completely normal.”

“Good,” Max breathed blithely with that cloyingly amicable smile pasted on his insipid mouth and continuing down the corridor as if there wasn’t a thing wrong in his world.

Which, considering the big, fat, happy bubble of denial he lived in, there probably wasn’t. Really she’d like to visit it someday; it must be a spectacular place in comparison to reality. Ugh, on second thought, watching the way he was looking at her out of the corner of his eye, slash that thought; she really didn’t want to know what occupied the vacuous, waste of space he termed a brain.

Right. Back to business.

“Um, was that weird?” she asked hesitantly, afraid of what might come spewing from his mouth this time. He had seemed to play it off well in the classroom, but she really didn’t hold onto the hope for a repeat of such shrewdness. It went against everything she had essentially gleaned of his character the past couple of weeks. He was more the stick-your-head-in-the-sand-and-pretend-it-didn’t-exist sort than the let’s-form-a-viable-plan-so-that-we-are-a-few-steps-ahead-of-the-game breed.

Like Michael, who she knew was stalking the sheriff’s department for additional information on their illustrious visitors. But something like that actually had a degree of logical deduction attached to it and well….

“What?” he asked dumbly, his expression blank as he turned to her, interrupting her inner tirade.

What do you mean what? Oh, of all the…

“That substitute just asked all of those questions about Michael,” she prompted, only to have it fall on deaf ears, again, as he continued to stare at her completely bewildered as to where she was attempting to lead him. She knew that she had put too much faith in him when he had made that joke in class. This was more like it.

“What was that about?” she tried again, hoping against hope it might spur some form of discerning cognitive ability in that elephantine head. Weren’t aliens supposed to be of a higher intellect than her species considering the fact that they had mastered the ability to travel intergalactically…wait, was that a even word? Whatever. But, obviously he fell short of the mark or was in a different line when they were handing out cerebral abilities.

Although which one, she couldn’t be sure from looking at him. Likely ego.

“I’m sure she was just taking attendance,” Max shrugged indolently, sending her a placating grin as they continued their trek down the hall.

“Right.”

Right. Because substitutes usually spend several moments trying to track down the movements of an errant student they don’t know, and frankly, shouldn’t even care to know since their job is only to fill in for the regular instructor for a few days. In the normal sense, a substitute wouldn’t be here long enough to form attachments or develop relationships with the students because they are, as the word implies, temporary. I dare you to name one other sub that we’ve had in all our years of schooling that have shown such dogged interest in a student. Bet you can’t.

Forget it. It wasn’t worth the migraine that would likely ensue if she tried explaining even this simple concept to a half-wit.

“Liz, don’t worry about it,” he sighed mournfully. Again with the romantic hero gig; this was seriously getting clichéd. “No one's suspicious of Michael. It’s me.”

Liz looked at him for a long moment, barely quelling the urge to gape at him open-mouthed and was completely stupefied and incensed by his utter arrogance and lack of concern towards the implications of a substitute’s aggressive interest in Michael; this in spite the fact that there seemed to be no scholastic reason behind it. Right, it was all about Max. Because, obviously, no one would remember the two additional six-year-old children found near the abandoned crash site at the same time as he; nor would they, oh, piece certain known facts together in a logical and linear fashion to realize that if something was off about Max, it might apply Isabel and Michael as well.

Not at all. After all, it’s common place to find three naked children running around in the desert without a soul to watch them.

Not to mention that those same overly inquisitive people wouldn’t reason out the tempting probability, that while Max and Isabel were relatively safe due to their private adoption and hidden behind closed doors by fiercely protective parents, Michael was a sitting duck as a ward of the state with a foster father who had more interest in his booze than the welfare of a child. A man that wouldn’t hesitate to ‘sell’ Michael out for a quick buck if it meant that he could still have his booze and get rid of his unwanted charge at the same time; with only a nominal investigation by the state.

After all, if the feds could cover up an entire spaceship crashing right out in the open with only whispered supposition plaguing them, then how difficult would it be to make one troubled teen disappear without a trace?

Why wouldn’t they be interested in Michael?

Oh, right, because it wasn’t Max and Max is apparently the center of the entire known universe and the only not-of-this-Earth person of interest. Whatever. It wasn’t really worth pursuing at the moment; better to smile, nod and agree with Max now and take matters into her own hands later.

“Okay,” she smiled weakly, quickly walking away before she could bludgeon the self-centered creep with her books, or actually, maybe Maria’s books, (she at least got use out of her own books on a regular basis; well other than to use them as door stops), all the while her mind was frantically coming up with a contingency plan. God knows, if left to Max, they’d all be dead within the week.