Roswell Fanatics

**posted in two parts due to length**



****************Part 67**********************


Max looked down at his son when Xan tugged excitedly on his hand.

“We’re goin’ in dewr, wight?” Xan asked, pointing across the street at the restaurant where Liz worked. His brows drew together in concentration and then he looked up at Max, an uncertain smile lighting his face. “Cuz she’s in dewr, wight?”

Max nodded, keeping Xan’s hand firmly within his own as they crossed the street. “That’s right, pal,” he said, grinning down at his son who was marching in happy lock-step next to him. “I told you you’d like where we were headed for lunch.” Holding the door to the restaurant open, Max ushered Xan in before him, and then took up a position before the hostess station. He could feel the echo of his little boy’s excitement and breathed a small sigh of relief as he silently congratulated himself and his wife on their strategy.

Looking up as the hostess came towards them, Max dropped a gentle hand on Xan’s head when he stepped closer, hiding his face shyly against his leg. Xan had surprised both he and Liz when he’d become even more clingy after he’d gone back to work. They’d always known that Xan wouldn’t last a normal eight hour shift, but as the week wore on, they’d begun to wonder if he’d even last the occasional four hours of her part-time schedule. Max had been half-tempted to call off the whole thing, figuring his return to work was enough for their first week back in reality. And whatever else she said, he knew Liz had been fighting the same impulse.

Luckily it appeared that they’d been worried for nothing. Xan seemed to have enjoyed his morning, only becoming restless enough to reach for Liz within the last half hour or so. Nodding a little, Max decided that the decision to meet Liz for lunch after her shift had been a stroke of genius.

“Hi. How many in your party this afternoon?” Josie asked politely, quickly pulling two menus from the bin before looking up at the man in front of her. It didn’t look like there was anyone else in his party, but the wedding band glinting brightly on his finger made her wonder. She smiled at his little boy. “Is your mom joining you for lunch today?” she inquired sweetly.

Max stiffened, his mind going blank as he decided that meeting Liz for lunch was clearly a mistake. And then he realized he was the only one who’d been upset by the question.

Xan shrugged, considering the question before dropping Max’s hand to point across the restaurant. “My Liz is wight ovewr dewre.” He announced with a smile.

Josie glanced over her shoulder quickly and then looked back at the man still waiting to be seated. This was Liz’s husband? The other girls hadn’t been kidding, she acknowledged silently. “You must be Max.”

Max blinked, returning his attention to the hostess as he relaxed and felt his heart start beating again. “Um, yeah. Guilty,” he said with a brief smile. He could feel Xan tugging insistently on Liz’s consciousness, his excitement turning to a mild frustration when she didn’t turn around immediately. “Xan, she’s gotta finish helping those people, then she’s all yours ok?” Max soothed quietly. He smoothed his son’s hair in silent comfort while he waited for Liz to finish taking her order. He smiled as Xan’s easy patience returned after she sent them a brief wave on her way towards the kitchen to put in the order. “Can you seat us in Liz’s section?” he asked the hostess.

“Sure.” Josie agreed. “She’s off in a few minutes, right?”

Max nodded. “Yeah, she’s gonna join us for lunch when she’s done.”

“Table for three then?”

“Seven, actually. Our friends will be joining us as well.”

“Table for seven it is. The back booth ok?” Josie asked, already heading for the large half circle booth in the back corner.

Max shrugged easily. “Works for me. Come on Xan,” he said, reaching for his son’s hand.

Xan hesitated, watching the swinging door Liz had just disappeared behind. “Bu’ what ‘bout, Liz?” he asked.

Josie smiled. “Don’t worry kiddo, I think ‘your Liz’ will be able to find you.”

Xan nodded sagely, as if she’d just reminded him of something he already knew. “Yowr wight.” He agreed. “My Liz’ll a’ways’s find me.”

Max slid Xan into the booth first and then sat down next to him, moving the glass of ice water out of the four year olds reach and harm’s way.

“Should I get a booster seat for him?” Josie asked, setting down the menu’s and watching Xan’s chin come to rest on the table.

Max glanced at his son. “Yeah, I think…”

“Nuh-uh.” Xan answered, sitting on his knees and leaning his elbows against the table. “I’m big, see?” he said to Max.

Max laughed. “Not right now, maybe later.”

Xan shrugged. “I won’ need it,” he said stubbornly.

Max turned to his son as the hostess walked away. “You’re very decisive today. And possessive,” he added. “Your Liz?”

Xan nodded unrepentantly. “Uh-huh.”

“Sorry, pal. I’m gonna have to insist you share.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh.” Max countered with a grin. “Or I’ll have to tickle you until you agree.”

Xan’s eyes widened and he started to giggle before Max could even touch him. “You will not!” he announced breathlessly, scooting over in the booth.

“Uh-huh.” Max attacked quickly, pulling Xan onto his lap where he couldn’t avoid the tickle torture. Xan’s hearty laughter was contagious and Max found himself grinning like an idiot, feeling the most ridiculous sense of accomplishment over being able to make his son happy. He was, Max knew, and he could feel his own contentment growing with that understanding.

“Awight, awight! Stop!” Xan demanded, still giggling as he pushed Max’s fingers away from his side.

“You give?”

“Give what?”

“Agree to share.” Max clarified, wiggling his finger threateningly in his son’s face.

“Ok, ok.” Xan gave in, settling back against Max. This was more comfortable than sitting on his knees. “I’ll shawre a little bit,” he agreed, grabbing a menu and opening it on the table. “What awre we gonna get?”

Max smothered another smile and reached around his son to turn the menu right side up. “What about a hamburger with ketchup and…”

“An’ tamasco!” Xan interrupted, nodding happily. “Dat sounds good.”

“Well, that was easy.” Liz said, sliding a tray full of drinks to the middle of the table before sitting down next to Max and writing out their order on her pad. “I told the kitchen I’d put this in as soon as everyone else gets here. Hi sweetheart,” she said, leaning forward to give Xan a quick kiss when he reached for her. “How was your morning?” she asked, leaving him settled on Max’s lap.

“Was good.” Xan said enthusiastically. “We watched cawrtoons, an’ played cawrs, an…” Xan glanced around the restaurant and then lowered his voice. “An we played wit da planes,” he whispered conspiratorially. “Max is gettin’ pwetty good.”

Liz nodded. “He is, huh? Good for him.” She glanced up at her husband. “And how was your morning?” she asked with a smile, leaning in for a kiss. She pulled away, shaking her head when Xan gagged theatrically and squirmed on Max’s lap.

Max calmed Xan’s squirming and grinned at his wife. “Was good,” he mimicked with a smile. Liz knew exactly how his morning had gone because she’d been casually checking in the entire time, gentling reassuring him and Xan, not to mention herself, that all was well. “We watched cartoons, played cars – you need to hear his NASCAR crash, by the way – and…”

“I get the idea.” Liz said wryly. “Where’s everyone else? I thought we were all meeting here at 1, after my shift.”

“We are,” Max agreed, ignoring the vague trepidation he was feeling. He’d met with Michael a day before the official end of their two-week hiatus in order to suppress what he was sure would have been a mad rush on his apartment once his ‘vacation’ was up. Michael had looked about as tired as he’d ever seen him. ‘Be careful what you wish for’ wasn’t that how the saying went?

But even as Max allowed himself a moment to enjoy Michael’s thoroughly trapped expression, he’d been less than thrilled by the update. Sighing, he tried to convince himself that everything was going to be ok even though it had been a full 3 weeks since everyone had been in the same room together, much less at the same table. Considering some of the current in-fighting, this lunch may not have been the best way to go.

Shaking his head, Max reminded himself that Xan had met everyone one on one, and on their best behavior, over the course of the last week, so maybe he was worrying for nothing. Or maybe…

“Max, stop,” Liz interjected softly. “This is gonna be fine. Now where is everyone?” she asked, glancing around the interior of the restaurant.

“I don’t know where they are. I just gave them the time and the rules.” The rule, really. No overwhelming his son. Taking a deep breath, Max forcibly reined in his anxiety. He didn’t want Xan picking up on his concern either.

“MAX!”

Max’s head shot up as his sister forgot herself enough to cause what could only be called a scene, shouting his name and then waving off the hostess as she rushed toward the table. She slid into the booth next to him and engulfed both he and Xan in a hug.

“It’s so good to see you guys again!” Isabel gushed, relief sounding through her voice. She leaned past her brother and nephew, ignoring the way they both rushed to get out of her way, and caught her sister in law in a hug then she sat up and grinned at them. “How’ve you guys been? You look good! My God Xan have you gotten bigger already?”

Xan glanced down at himself, surprised by the question. “I don’ tink…”

“Well, you look bigger. And so handsome. God, I could just eat you up!” Maria interrupted, startling Liz when she slid into the booth next to her.

Xan’s mouth fell open at that comment and he burrowed further back against Max.

Liz smothered a smile at Xan’s apprehensive expression. “That’s just a figure of speech, sweetOOMPH. Hi Maria,” she finished weakly, hugging her best friend back. Jesus, it was only two weeks. It’s not like they’d left the planet!

Max glanced down at his son and wondered if he looked as shell shocked as Xan did. Probably, he thought. He looked up at Michael when the other man made it to the table. “I’m putting you in charge more often,” he half joked.

“No, Maxwell. No you’re not,” Michael said darkly, looking uneasily from Maria to Isabel as if uncertain where he should sit. He grabbed Kyle when the other man walked up behind him and then shoved him in next to Isabel, settling happily on the edge of the booth. “How you doin’ rugrat?” he asked nodding at Xan.

Kyle sat down next to Isabel, careful to make sure that, even within the confines of the booth, they weren’t touching. He was grateful when, after one long look, she returned her attention to Xan. Sorry, kid, he thought wryly, time to take one for the team.

Xan shrugged uneasily. “I don’ know,” he ventured, glancing back at Max and then looking over at Liz. He relaxed when she reached over and brushed his hair from his eyes, cupping his face lightly and holding him gently within their connection.

“This is just like we talked about Xan,” she reminded the little boy softly. “Everyone here is a friend.”

“That’s right pal. There’s nothing to worry about. No one’s going to start screaming and shouting like before,” Max added, his pointed gaze reminding everyone else at the table of that very same thing.

Kyle nodded. “Don’t worry kiddo. We’re crazy, but it’s a good crazy.”

Xan’s brows furrowed and he looked back at Max. “Good cwazy?”

Michael grabbed one of the wrapped straws from Liz’s tray and ripped the paper, then blew it at Xan. “Yeah, rugrat, good crazy,” he said, grinning when Xan wrinkled his nose and batted at the wrapper.

“I’m not a wugwat.” Xan asserted, smiling shyly at Michael. “An’ how’d you do dat?” he asked grabbing a straw and blowing ineffectually around the paper.

“I don’t know if I can tell you. You gonna join the good crazy club?” Michael asked mock-suspiciously.

Xan glanced at Liz. “Awre you an’ Max pawrt of da good cwazy club?” he asked.

Maria snorted. “Kiddo, Max and Liz started the good crazy club,” she said dryly.

Xan giggled, hiding his face shyly against Liz’s shoulder and holding on to Max’s arm where it held tightly to his waist. It felt good to laugh with everybody and he figured that Liz and Max were right, they seemed pretty ok.

Max grinned at his wife, adding his own good natured denial to hers. But he didn’t care what anyone called it. His family was safe and happy and, at least for the moment, everyone was smiling. Things were as they should be.

*******Part 67 continued********


one month later . . .


“So, did you talk to Troy?” Michael asked, taking a swig of water as he walked back to Max’s apartment after a pick-up basketball game.

“Yeah.” Max looked uneasily at Michael and then glanced away, admitting, “He thinks the best way to bring Jesse in is during a move.”

Michael nodded, already expecting that. “And?”

“And I don’t want to move Xan yet. Not until we have to.” Max shook his head, already defending his decision. “I don’t care if it’s selfish Michael, he’s four. He’s finally starting to relax and feel like he’s home, I’m not going to just uproot him because…”

“Whoa, whoa! Maxwell, you’re talking to the wrong guy. I’m not in any hurry to meet back up with Mr. Ramirez, but Isabel…”

“Is not happy. I know.”

“Long as you know and you keep me the hell out of it,” Michael muttered.

Max raised his brows in surprise when Michael failed to tack on the ‘fearless leader’ that would normally have gone at the end of that sentence. It had been a month since his best friend was left in charge and he was still waiting for the return to the ‘real’ Michael. He didn’t care what Liz said, this new Zen attitude was bound to disintegrate sooner or later.

Michael’s brows furrowed over Max’s look. “What?” He sighed, deciding to let it go as he changed the subject. “Did he say anything about that plan he’s working on?”

Max shrugged. “He said he was still working out the details and didn’t want to get our hopes up.”

“And you accepted that?” Michael asked incredulously.

“I didn’t want to burst his bubble,” Max admitted, hiding his frustration behind a wry look. Troy may have been older, but he was decades behind the rest of them in understanding the way this worked. And while his attention to detail was probably a good thing, it was doing nothing for Max’s growing impatience.

“You don’t think he found a way?”

Max shook his head uncomfortably. “I don’t know.” His mouth twisted in an expression of disgust. “He makes it sound so easy, like we’ve all been missing something this whole time, but… I just don’t know. We’ll decide when we hear it. Until then.” Max sighed heavily. “Until then we keep on like this.”

Michael nodded, noting and ignoring Max’s surprised expression when he didn’t immediately argue the point. “Speaking of keeping on, how’re things at Casa Ev…O’Connor?”

Max grinned, unsurprised that Michael remained incapable of just remembering their aliases even as the beginnings of his dark mood evaporated with the thought of his family. “Good,” he answered. “They’re really good.”

“But…” Michael prodded, sure after the way his friend fell silent that there was a ‘but’.

“But nothing. Except… nothing.”

“What?”

Max shrugged uncomfortably. “Did you ever feel like, I don’t know, a footnote? I mean…you know what? It’s nothing.”

“Max, what the hell are you talking about?” Michael asked impatiently, already regretting asking how everything was going.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like Xan’s barely aware that I’m there. I mean…like today. I said I was going out and he just gave me a hug and said ok. Then he went right back to what he and Liz were doing in the kitchen." Max explained.

Michael looked at Max like he was crazy. "So, you don’t want them to be close?"

Max shook his head emphatically "No! No, I love that they’re close. It’s the most amazing thing in the world to see her just reach down and give him a hug or kiss the top of his head when he’s sleeping in her arms." Max missed Michael rolling his eyes over the expression of awed happiness that came onto his face when he spoke of his wife and son. "And you should see the way his little face just lights up when she comes home from a shift or the way he cuddles closer to her whenever he can." Max’s expression closed a little. "I just wish he was so excited to see me when I walk in the door. It’s like he’s not sure… I don’t know what he’s not sure of but…he’s my son, Michael."

"You need serious help, man."

Max rolled his eyes. "I know," he muttered. "Plus you factor in that Liz and I have no time together…" He trailed off as he saw Michael’s brows draw together in confusion.

"I thought you got the whole shift thing cleared up." Michael knew for a fact Liz was back to some weekday shifts since he had worked a few of them with her.

"We did. I’m lucky Joe has a soft spot for a hard luck story." Max had to admit that his boss had actually been like a godsend. Once he’d gotten wind of the new situation he’d offered to let him split his time between actual construction and the company’s accounting, which could be done largely from the apartment. "I don’t have to be on-site daily so she doesn’t have to cram all her shifts into nights and weekends anymore."

"So how can you not have time with your wife?"

"We’ve been reduced to quickies in our own bathroom," Max said, frustration clear in his voice as he dribbled the ball a little harder against the pavement as they walked.

"Oh. Why don’t you just close the bedroom door? I know you two know how to keep your voices down," Michael said dryly, shuddering a little over the odd memory of being on another couple’s honeymoon.

Max sighed. "He’s still sleeping with us."

"Ouch. That’ll cut into your average." Michael almost ducked at the look Max threw him.

"Yeah. He sleeps in his bed for naps but the minute it’s bedtime he walks into our room," Max said plaintively. "At this rate he’ll be sixteen before he sleeps in his own bed."

"Just put him in his own bed," Michael stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Max glared. "I do," he ground out. "Then he cries and looks up at me with those eyes. And then Liz looks at me with those eyes… I’m toast. One of ‘em I could take, but both of ’em…" Who was he kidding? He didn’t think he could take one of them.

"You’re screwed."

"I wish," Max muttered. "Xan’s got a better radar than Maria."

Michael couldn’t stop his sudden laughter. "You should lecture at the high schools, man. ‘Practice safe sex boys and girls or you’ll never have sex again.’ I can see it on posters."

Max rolled his eyes, seeing the strange humor of the situation almost against his will. "And you should see the look he gives me after he’s back in our bed wrapped up in her arms. I can just see him mentally sticking his tongue out at me." Shaking his head, he bounced the ball off the side of a building, blinking a little when Michael caught it and glared at him. "If I couldn’t feel how frustrated Liz was I’d think I was coming between the two of them!"

Michael stopped. "So lemme see if I got this right – You’re jealous of your wife because your son is spending too much time with her. And you’re jealous of your son because your wife is spending too much time with him?"

Max ducked his head sheepishly "When you put it like that I feel like a jerk," he muttered.

Michael nodded as they started walking again. "Lemme know when you want me to knock some sense into you." He looked at Max and a grin settled on his lips. "You know, statistics say a married couple’s sex life decreases by more than 70% after the first baby… I wonder what the statistic is for the first 4-year-old,” he felt safe enough to wonder aloud.

"Michael, first of all, I am not giving up making love to my wife, and second of all, stop watching Dr. Phil." Max stopped, turning to look at Michael appraisingly. "You gotta help me."

Michael’s eyes narrowed. "Maxwell, we’re close but…"

"Babysit for me, please? I’ll do anything. Take him to a movie and dinner, my treat." Max nodded. This could work. This would work. This had to work.

"You want me to babysit the kid or date him?"

"You’ll need to keep his attention focused," Max said seriously, staring at Michael as if he were about to ask the one thing in the world the people at Mission Impossible would say no to. “Do you think you could keep him overnight?" Before Michael could reply, he bribed, "I promise you your own batch of cookies. You won’t even have to beg."



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



"Giwls can’t play cawrs, Mawia!" Xan exclaimed as if she ought to know that.

"Why not?" Maria asked. The poor kid had been looking at the door for the last half hour waiting for Max to come back. When Liz told her it was because he was waiting to play cars, Maria had offered herself as a substitute, only to be turned down flat.

"Max said dewre’s not a giwl in the wowrld who can cwash wight," Xan explained seriously. Apparently Max was also right about the fact that no girl in the world understood that.

"Crash right?" Maria watched, stunned as Xan took two cars and rammed them into each other for a head on matchbox collision. She had to admit that, even at four, the accompanying crash sound Xan made was a pretty good sound effect. "Ok you little chauvinist, let me try." Xan shrugged skeptically and watched as Maria picked up two cars and crashed them "bbbbwwaaafffftt!"

Xan shook his head sadly "Don’ wowwy, Mawia. Not even Liz can do it."

Maria turned around as Liz came out into the living room with a sandwich and a glass of milk for Xan. "Sweetie come eat your lunch and then you can play cars," Liz said, setting the food down on the coffee table and heading immediately back into the kitchen.

"What about da cookies?" Xan asked frowning at the sandwich.

"You can have cookies after your sandwich," Liz said not bothering to look back at his disgruntled expression. She wasn’t going to burn those cookies. They were too much a pain in the ass to make. Maria followed her to the kitchen, pointing back at Xan.

"Did you hear the little male chauvinist you’re raising?" Maria asked.

"Yeah. And then I heard you betray all of womankind with that sad excuse for a crash." Liz looked at Maria over her shoulder. "Don’t worry, mine’s worse." She admitted.

Maria shook her head and watched Liz reach into the oven and pull out a baking sheet containing the infamous M&M Tabasco swirl cookies. "What is the big deal about these things anyway?" She’d tried making them once and ended up burning the entire batch, not to mention several fingers.

Liz sighed. "I don’t know. And I don’t know why none of the resident czechs can get the recipe right. Michael’s a cook for god’s sake. I mean, I make them by taste. You’d think they’d enjoy that!"

Maria laughed. She had watched the face Liz made when the batter finally tasted right. It looked like she’d tasted the most god-awful concoction ever created. She shrugged, shaking her head a little over Liz’s disgruntled expression. Her best friend had discovered early on that the Tabasco cooked more quickly than the rest of the cookie, and while Michael was a cook, he most certainly didn’t have the patience to flip the cookies every few minutes so they wouldn’t burn. "Sorry you ever let Max taste ’em, huh?"

Liz smiled. "Actually…no. He’s come up with some pretty amazing bribes."

Maria let out a long-suffering sigh. “I always knew once you two started, you’d be going like the energizer bunny for the rest of your freakin’ lives.”

Liz grimaced. “Not anymore. Xan’s got a better radar than you do,” she muttered looking at Maria pathetically.

"Liz. You didn’t think you could add a four-year-old to the mix and keep everything the same did you?"

"No, of course not. It’s just frustrating." Liz lowered her voice. "Last night we had a quickie in the bathroom!" Maria lips twitched. "And the other night we ended up in Xan’s room. We had to sneak – Maria we snuck out of our own room and into his. Poor Max almost killed himself tripping over a plane. It’s crazy!" she finished, one brow raised as she watched Maria work herself into a full-fledged giggle fit. "It’s not funny." Liz whined, her own lips twitching slightly. She sighed, sobering a little, as she looked out into the living room at Xan.

Maria tried to smother her grin. "I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you."

Liz waved that off. "It’s not that. I don’t know Maria. Lately I just… I feel like a referee. I mean, Xan adores Max." She smiled softly as she remembered the pajama top incident. "The other night he refused to put on a pajama top because ‘guys don’ weawr ’jama tops.’" Maria smiled at the imitation of Xan’s lisp. "See, Max only wears boxers to bed, which at this point is cruel and unusual punishment but anyway – Xan just wanted to be like him, you know? You should have seen the grin on Max’s face. And then Xan followed him around until bedtime just, I don’t know, watching him and imitating the way he stood and stuff."

"Aww. Sounds like a Kodak moment. So what’s the problem?"

Liz blushed a little, confirming for Maria that she’d gotten a picture. "Ok so I’m taking out stock in disposable cameras. That’s not the problem. Xan still clings to me, you know. He’ll be playing and suddenly he’ll just stop and come see what I’m doing or where I am. He thinks I’m his. I mean, he’s four, it’s understandable. But sometimes Max goes all caveman and it’s like he has to prove that I belonged to him first. And I can even understand that. I know he feels a little left out sometimes, but then I get to the point where I’m ready to knock their identically thick skulls together!" Liz finished, half wondering where all that had come from. Frustration, she decided flatly. And not just the kind that came from being pulled in two directions.

Maria glanced at Xan in the living room to make sure he was occupied and then looked at her best friend. "Can I make a suggestion?" At Liz’s nod she said. "Tell him about Max – let me finish – I know you don’t want to confuse him but don’t you think he’s already confused? Let him know that he’s really home, that there’s a concrete reason for him to be here."

"I don’t disagree, really just…Max and I need to talk about it." Liz said softly, her eyes narrowing on Maria.

Maria stared back at Liz, fighting the urge to run. "What?"

"Babysit for me? Don’t say no. Please, Maria. Please?" Liz thought frantically for a bribe. "Oooh. Do this for me and Michael gets a whole batch of cookies all to himself. Only I’ll give them to you. Think Maria. Think of how in your debt he’ll be when he gets them and he didn’t have to beg me or share with Max." Liz nodded watching as Maria’s eyes lit up.
Maria nodded. "This has possibilities. And I’m liking the idea of Michael on his knees. Begging."

"Maria!" Liz blushed.



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



Max stepped through the door to his apartment feeling lighter somehow, now that he had a plan. His mouth fell open in surprise when Xan peeked around the divide from the kitchen and rushed to greet him.

"Max! Yowr back! I was waitin’ to play cawrs only you took too long an’ so Mawia twied to play but you wewre wight. She can’t cwash eider. Liz said you needed guy time. Cuz maybe I could come nex time, cuz I’m a guy. But know what we did? We made cookies an’ Liz said I’d like ’em cuz you do an’ she was wight." The oven dinged and Xan turned around and headed for the kitchen without missing a beat. "Liz dewre gonna burn we gotta get dem now."

Max blinked. He’s spending too much time with Maria, he thought to himself, jumping a little when Michael slapped him on the back.

"Yeah. He wasn’t at all excited to see you.” Michael suddenly froze, sniffing the air experimentally. "She made the good cookies," he said in awe, moving to grab a chair at the kitchen table where Xan was already happily inhaling cookies. "Save some for me, rugrat."

Xan giggled and shook his head. "Liz said tell you is evewry man fowr hi’self."

Max walked over to stand next to Liz who was putting the last of the cookies out to cool. "Hi. I’m Max, I like to worry," he said, repeating what his wife had been telling him for the last few weeks. He kept his voice low so their conversation didn’t carry and felt all of his tension drain away when Liz moved closer, sliding an arm around his waist.

Liz smirked. "Yeah, but you’re cute so I’ll keep you," she whispered back.

Max smiled down at his wife, letting her love and her certainty soothe him. "I’m sorry Liz. I don’t know why I’m so…insecure. I love that you love him, you know that right?"

Liz nodded, and dropped a gentle kiss on Max’s lips. "I do know that. I’m sorry you feel left out sometimes and it’s understandable Max. I totally get where you’re coming from, but he does love you." She paused, letting him know that she did understand and also that she was glad he was beginning to see that Xan looked for him too. "This was a huge change I think we just need to…"

"… find a new balance," Max finished. He couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss her again. Their whispered conversation, the fact that they were standing so close. The fact that he could feel what that did to her...he moaned a little in the back of his throat and deepened the kiss, loving the feel of her response as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Dey always do dat," Xan announced, smacking his open palm against his forehead in dramatic exasperation as he announced that fact to Michael.

Max pulled away, resting his fore head against Liz’s for a second. "And on that note… remind me to tell you later, I’ve got good news." Letting Liz finish up with the cookies, he headed for the kitchen table, grabbing a seat and one of the few remaining cookies. "Someday, pal, you’re gonna meet a girl and you’ll fall in love, and then you’ll want to do that all the time too."

Xan glanced at Liz, feeling slightly ill at ease at the thought.

Liz smiled, pausing to kiss the top of Xan’s head on the way back to the bedroom to change for work. "Not for years and years sweetie.”

Michael waited until Liz had entered the bedroom before saying. "At this rate you’ll be getting some before Max. Ow!" he hissed, reaching down to rub his shin, suddenly reminded where Xan had inherited his kicking prowess.

Xan looked from Max to Michael. "Some what?" he asked curiously, turning quickly back to Max. "Liz says do ‘so big’ when yowr coughin’," he said raising his arms over his head to illustrate his point and shaking his head when Max just kept coughing.

*********Part 68************

Just…find something a little boy would like. You were a little boy once, how hard can that be?

How hard can that be? Michael mouthed in silent irritation, ignoring the grandmother who was slowly sidling down the aisle away from him. Pretty damn hard, he decided with a sigh, looking from the cassette cover in his left hand to the one in his right. Returning the cassettes to the shelf he consulted his list. Again. And then forced himself to continue down the aisle after one last mournful glance at The Lion King. How could a cartoon about a lion cub be traumatic, he wondered a little desperately. It was made for kids for god’s sake! But there it was on Liz’s list, number one under ‘Unacceptable.’

Pulling out his cell phone, Michael glared at the time display, mentally counting the number of minutes he had until Maria called to find out where the hell he was. Considering that he should have been home ten minutes ago, he gave himself at least another five…if he was lucky. She was gonna flip if he made them late to pick up Xan. Of course, she’d flip if he walked back into their apartment without one of the mind numbing cartoons listed under ‘Acceptable’. He glared at the Disney section, still hearing Maria pointing out that it wouldn’t kill him to sit through one, Liz-sanctioned cartoon. Glancing uneasily at the Winnie the Pooh Collection, which, Michael was unsurprised to note was Liz-sanctioned, he decided that wasn’t necessarily a sure thing.

Casting a longing glance in the direction of the ‘real’ movies, Michael silently debated the wisdom of diverging from the list. And then ignored his common sense and headed for the action/adventure section of Blockbuster. Xan was a cool kid, he’d appreciate something besides Winnie the Pooh and Peter Pan.

Find something a little boy would like…

Just doing what I was told, Michael rationalized with a nod, quickly picking up three movies. What little boy wouldn’t like these? And technically, they weren’t even listed under ‘Unacceptable’. Of course, technically they weren’t actually on the list which…had to be an oversight, Michael decided happily. Liz had been a little stressed lately. Grinning, he picked up the three movies and headed for checkout. This babysitting thing wasn’t nearly as hard as everyone was making it out to be.

***********

Did you get the…”

“Yes, Maria, I did, so we’re set, right? We can relax for a few minutes before we have to go pick up the rugrat,” Michael said, already sitting down on the couch and reaching for the remote control.

“No. We cannot. Here,” Maria said, flipping a box of outlet covers at her boyfriend.

Michael stared at them. “Maria, he’s four, I think he knows…”

“Liz is trusting me with that little boy, Michael. I am not about to do anything to make her think I can’t handle this,” Maria announced, her voice rising in irritation.

“Or Isabel either,” Michael murmured knowingly. He was well aware that Isabel wasn’t happy about the fact that her brother was letting her nephew stay overnight with someone other than…herself.

“Like she babysat any more than I did in high school,” Maria muttered, glancing uneasily around the apartment. “Michael, do you think we should…”

“Maria, relax,” Michael interrupted before she could decide that the place would be safer with padded walls. Appropriate though that may be, he reflected wryly. “Everything’s gonna be fine, it’s not like you’re gonna be here all by yourself tonight. I’ll be here and…”

“And you better be good,” Maria said, turning around to glare at him.

“You act like you’re babysitting me,” Michael griped.

“I’m always babysitting you,” Maria muttered, ignoring Michael’s disgruntled look as she mentally ticked off her list; Stool in the bathroom, so Xan didn’t fall and break his head, adjustable sides on the spare bed Michael had picked up so Xan didn’t fall and break his head…her eyes narrowed as they lit on the coffetable…something Xan could fall against and break his head. “Move your feet. We need to do something about this.”

“Maria, what…”

“Just…do your alien thing and make it disappear.”

Sighing heavily, Michael got up and hefted the coffeetable awkwardly into his arms so he could move it into their bedroom. “I’m not David Copperfield,” he muttered.

“Don’t start,” Maria replied absently, once more studying the apartment for deathtraps. “You ordered the pizza, right?”

“Yes, Maria, I ordered the pizza. The man swore up and down that it’d get here a few minutes after we get back with Xan. And before you ask me, yet again – yes, I got movies to watch with the rugrat, and no, they weren’t from the ‘Unacceptable’ side of the list.

Nodding, Maria took a deep breath and then swiped the movies from on top of the VCR, sliding them from the plastic Blockbuster bag. No use tempting fate by leaving plastic bags around for Xan to suffocate in, she thought, glancing curiously at the tape spines. Her eyes widened when she read the movie titles. “Michael!”

“What?” Michael asked, pretending nonchalance as he placed the coffeetable between him and his girlfriend. “I can explain.”

“Explain? What were you thinking?!” Maria glared, pointing the tapes at him in accusation. “I swear to God…you were the reason I sniffed so much Cedar Oil in high school!”

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

Xan sat on the bed watching Max get dressed, and winding a necktie around his fingers and up his arm. “Why you gotta weawr dis?” he asked, handing the tie to Max.

“Because the restaurant we’re going to says I have to,” Max replied with a sigh, flipping the collar of his shirt up so that he could knot the tie properly around his neck.

Xan watched, eyes wide as Max eased the knot up to his throat. “Hey, how’d you do dat?” he asked, standing up on the bed and walking to the end to get a closer look.

Stepping towards the bed in an effort to make sure Xan didn’t slip off by mistake, Max looked down at the tie and shrugged. “Well, you just have to kinda…here, watch me again.” Untying the knot, Max retied the slip of fabric around his neck, going more slowly so that Xan could see what he was doing.

Xan nodded. “I wan’ one.”

“They’re not really all that much fun, pal,” Max warned.

“Please?” Xan wheedled.

Max sighed silently. And there was that look again, he thought. Toast. “Ok, here,” Swiping a glowing hand over his discarded t-shirt, Max quickly fashioned a smaller tie for Xan and then draped it over the four year olds shoulders. After a brief moment of trying to tie the thing backwards, he turned his son around and pulled him back against his chest, reaching around him so that he could knot it from the front. Or try to, he thought with a small smile, tiliting his head to the side so he could see past Xan’s bent head. “Ok, take both ends in your hands, make sure ones a little longer…not that much longer…here let me help. Ok, now place that end over here…and around…”

“Like dat?” Xan asked, his features scrunched in concentration as he let Max guide his hands and the fabric.

“Exactly like that. Now, wrap that around there, and this goes around here…” Standing there, his hands slowly guiding his son’s through the intricacies of tying a Square Knot, Max couldn’t help but remember his own fathers patient instructions on how to ‘hang a noose around your own neck’. Which had occurred 15 minutes before Aunt Jessica’s wedding. At seven years old, his fingers had gotten in the way more than once, but not even his mother standing in the bedroom doorway pointedly checking her watch had interrupted the lesson. It was a bit strange, remembering his father like that. And nice. Clearing his throat a little, Max stepped back and turned Xan around. “And there you go. You’re stylin’, pal.”

Xan nodded, holding the tie out with a proud, lopsided grin. “Stylin’,” he repeated. "So we’wre gonna have guy time now?"

"You and Michael are gonna have guy time." Max corrected gently. All week, Xan had seemed genuinely excited over the prospect of spending the night with Michael and Maria, but now that the time was at hand, Max could sense his son’s trepidation. He sighed, wondering if he should have borrowed the Buddha statue when Kyle offered. "Liz and I are gonna have married people time."

Xan wrinkled his nose. "Mawwied people time?"

"That’s right. I’m taking Liz to a nice restaurant for dinner…and whatever else she wants,” Max explained hopefully.

"Yowr goin’ wit’out me?" Xan asked suspiciously. "Cuz maybe I want mawwied people time too," he said plaintively, his lower lip beginning to tremble.

"Put away the pout, pal," Max warned, picking up his jacket and his son and heading for the living room. A glance at the still closed bathroom door told him that Liz wasn’t ready yet, and he felt the heady edge of anticipation he’d been fighting all day, double. "You’re having guy time without me," he pointed out, nodding hello to Michael and Maria.

Smiling at the two of them, Maria reached to take Xan into her arms but the little boy shrank away from her, tightening his hold on Max’s neck.. She glanced back at Michael and then rolled her eyes, clearing reading a ‘what the hell do you want me to do about it’ in his shrug.

“Give us a second here, guys,” Max said, rubbing slow circles against Xan’s back. "Why the death grip, Xan?" he asked, keeping his voice low and soothing.

"Cuz maybe I’ll miss you?" Xan whispered.

Max kissed his son’s forehead. "I’m gonna miss you to but you are going to have lots of fun with Michael and Maria, then you can come home and tell me all about it. I’ll probably be jealous," he confided in a stage whisper.

Xan bit his lip, considering.

"Hey guys."

Max exhaled a relieved sigh and turned to look at his wife, then promptly lost the ability to speak. He knew he should say something but the only words his mind could form were ‘wow’ and ‘mine’. As he tried to come up with something more appropriate he allowed himself the silent pleasure of just drinking Liz in. Her dark, luxurious hair was piled high atop her head, held in place with crystal pins that winked in and out of her locks, daring him to pull them out and let her hair rain down her back. The burgundy dress she wore hugged every curve of her body, making his fingers itch to run along the smooth material…and the soft, silky skin underneath said material. She stepped towards him, the heels she wore adding a seductive sway to her hips and a tantalizing glimpse of bare leg from the slit that ran up one side of the dress. He swallowed hard, and she stopped a step away from touching him.

"You look like a pwincess," Xan said, his little voice hushed. "But pwettiewr den a cawtoon."

Liz smiled softly at Xan. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said, reveling in the heat of Max’s silent, hungry expression. She could feel his desire unfurling across their connection, running headlong into hers and striking sparks.

Max pulled himself back to the room at large and smiled down at his son. "You’re making me look bad, pal," he whispered.

"Sowwy," Xan whispered back.

"S’ok." Max turned to Liz, keeping his voice low. "Since I can’t do better than Xan with the compliments I guess I’m going to be spending the rest of tonight showing you exactly what I’m feeling." He ached for her. Ached for her in a way he hadn’t since high school.

Liz’s breath hitched a little in her throat. Max’s voice seemed to ripple through the air and touch her in places that were indecent with other people in the room. Her mouth went dry when she finally captured his gaze. She could guess from his familiar expression that they wouldn’t be making it to dinner anytime soon. Her eyes lit dangerously at the thought. "Have I ever told you that you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen and that I would follow you anywhere as long as you promised to look at me like that for the rest of our life?" She asked rhetorically, leaning up to brush her lips against his.

The mood was broken by the disgruntled four year old Max held in his arms. "What ‘bout me Liz? Awren’t I han’some and…"

Liz cleared her throat and focused on the little boy, reaching up to tickle the perturbed expression from his face. "Sweetheart, you are so handsome and so wonderful I can’t believe you’re real," she said, laughing as Xan tried to squirm up and over Max’s shoulder to get away from her. “What’s this about?” She asked, tugging on Xan’s tie.

“We’wre stylin’.” Xan announced.

Liz glanced at her husband, her smile widening at the heavy thread of contentedness weaving through their connection. “Yes you are,” she agreed softly.

"Ok, ok, break it up. I’m gonna gag if this goes on much longer," Michael broke in, getting hit in the arm for his trouble. He rose from the couch and reached for Xan "C’mon rugrat, ‘guy time’ is here."

Xan allowed himself to be transferred to Michael’s arms but he bit his lip and stared at Max and Liz, a vaguely worried expression on his face.

Michael looked at Maria. "You’ve got the…"

"Yes, Michael I have the cookies. You’ve got the kid, I’ve got the overnight bag…" she looked at Max and Liz and smiled "And we will now be leaving you two alone," she said pushing Michael in front of her to the door.

"But…wait!” Xan shouted, suddenly panicking. He looked back at Liz. "I wanna stay wit you." And then he turned to Max. "We’ll shawre da cookies," he tried to bribe.

Max could feel Liz’s resolve wavering, which did nothing for his own. Before he could change his mind he rushed out "Do you remember what we said? Married people time is over at 10:00. You have your watch and remember we set it?" Breathing a little easier, Max felt his son begin to relax when he looked down at the watch on his wrist. "When that alarm goes off, if you want to come home you just tell Michael or Maria and they’ll take you home. But do you know what you get to do in the meantime?" Xan shook his head slowly and looked at Liz.

Max almost held his breath but Liz didn’t cave. "You must be the luckiest little boy in the world,” she said. “Because you get to go with Maria and Michael to watch movies and have some of those cookies that you like so much," she said.

"We’ve even got ice cream Xan. And we’re getting pizza,” Maria piped up, pulling Michael’s arm and inching him towards the door. “Michael and I are really looking forward to this. We’ve been talking about it all day."

"Yeah?" Xan asked softly.

Michael sidestepped Maria’s kick as she tried to prompt him into taking his cue. "Wanna hear the best part, rugrat?"

"What?"

"I got ‘Top Gun’.."

"Wha’s dat?"

"That my little friend is a movie all about planes," Michael said triumphantly.

Xan’s eyes widened at the prospect "Yeah?"

"Yep."

Maria looked at Liz. "We’ll fast forward through the other parts," She promised, catching the uncertain look on Liz’s face. She could hardly blame her, but once Michael had explained himself, Maria had to agree it was a pretty good plan. She grinned, nodding at her boyfriend. "You could just kiss him right now, couldn’t you?" she gushed, starting to giggle when Max raised an eyebrow at Liz’s nod.

"On the cheek." Liz amended, patting Max’s arm and watching Michael walk Xan out the door.

"An’ you got pizza," Xan clarified. Michael nodded. "Wit’ pepwoni and tomasco?"

"Of course," Michael said, sounding offended and pretending to almost drop Xan as they headed into the hallway.

Xan giggled and clutched Michael’s shirt. "An’ we got da cookies?"

"Sure do." Maria said as she showed Xan one of the containers and closed the door behind them.

"Den what awre Max and Liz gonna do?"




********continued on next page*********

************69a*************

Liz arched a brow and turned to look at her husband as Xan’s voice filtered through the door. "What are Max and Liz gonna do?" she asked lightly, stepping closer to Max. She tapped the knot of his tie. “Your tie’s wrinkled. Do you need help getting dressed now?”

Max shook his head silently, letting his hands drift to Liz’s hips so he could pull her closer. “Undressed,” he corrected close to her ear, but just as he began to tighten his arms around her, she stepped back. “Liz?”

“Do you know what I’ve wanted to do ever since I saw the tie?”

“What?”

Liz smiled slowly, her eyes a knowing reflection of the sizzling intensity of their desire. Tracing one finger from the knot in his tie to the very bottom, she began to roll the end, pulling Max closer as she shortened its length. "”That’s what,” she breathed, capturing his lips.

Max dragged her closer, molding the soft contours of her body to his, as he fell into the sultry heat of their connection. Moaning a little in the back of his throat, he licked lightly at her bottom lip, letting out a contented sigh when her whimper allowed him entrance. He kissed her deeply, enjoying the simple pleasure of building their arousal, his tongue sliding with tantalizing slowness against hers until she forced the rhythm faster, pressing closer to his body.

“Max…” Liz breathed, pulling away for a quick breath, her head falling back to give Max better access to her throat when he didn’t feel the same need for oxygen, choosing instead to tease the pulse fluttering under her skin.


“Want to know what I’m thinking?”

Swallowing, Liz nodded silently, her hooded gaze focused on his lips as he spoke.

Max cleared his throat. "There’s no way Xan’s going to make it the whole night so if we go out and do the whole romantic dinner thing – which we can still do, if you want, but if we do - we cut our married people time in half. At least." He paused to study his wife.

Liz shivered. “And?” she prompted in a hoarse whisper.

"And ever since I saw you wearing that dress I’ve had plans for every minute of our married people time." Max said, his voice rough velvet to match the sultry look in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss her, brushing her lips teasingly with his own, his fingers tracing the line of her spine down the expanse of bare back revealed by the dress. "Good plans," he tempted, sliding one of the slim straps out of his way to drop a smooth kiss on her shoulder.

Liz nodded, one arm wrapping around Max’s neck as she tilted her head in invitation. She closed her eyes, shuddering lightly when he brought a hand up to cup her breast, gently brushing his thumb over the nipple until it stood out through the fabric of her dress. "It would probably be best to stay in…you know…budget wise. There’s food here…for later. It’s the…the responsible thing…to do."

Max nodded against her throat. "Mmm-hmm, and we are responsible adults so…" He stepped away abruptly and lifted Liz into his arms, sighing happily when she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to nibble at his ear lobe. "We’re reclaiming our bedroom, Liz," he announced carrying her down the hall to their room.

Liz exhaled slowly, her blood fired by the electric feel of sliding down Max’s body as he set her slowly on her own feet. She swallowed hard, capturing her husbands gaze, grateful for the immediate spark of their connection as it drew them inexorably closer, sending a trembling ache through Liz’s entire being. She took advantage of the height gained from her heels and leaned in to trail kisses along Max’s jaw, moving to his neck at his first sharp intake of breath. She licked and nibbled her way down his throat as his arms held her loosely, his fingers caressing the small of her back. Looking up at him she breathed in the scent of cologne and the intoxicating male scent that belonged only to him. They were too far apart.

Max blinked, suddenly aware that he was no longer in control. If he ever had been, he thought idly, his eyes closing as Liz tugged the knot from his tie and pulled it from his neck, letting the fabric whoosh against his shirt under the collar.

Liz felt Max gasp a little as the skin of his throat, so recently sensitized from her lips felt a delicious friction from the tie. "I love that I can do that to you," she whispered, dropping the length of material to the floor. Alone with him there were no secrets, she could say things she’d never imagined herself saying and would never repeat to anyone else. "I love how hard you feel against me." She swiveled her hips a little against his erection, feeling his arms tighten around her almost convulsively. "I love that you’re so strong but I can make you tremble." She pulled his shirt from his pants, causing him to groan as she slid her hands up his chest to start working the buttons from the top. He reached to help her, but she pushed his hands down. "Let me do this, please?"

Max nodded helplessly. As if he had a choice. He’d let her do anything she wanted to him as long as he could always feel how much she wanted him, lived for him, in him…loved him. Just as he loved her, just as he lived for her. He was desperate to show her suddenly, needed her to know…but she did. "I’ll just put myself in your hands then," Max whispered thickly, relinquishing control for the moment.

"My hands, my mouth," Liz teased, licking her lips as she parted his shirt before reaching to caress the broad expanse of chest underneath.

Max groaned when Liz pulled the shirt from his shoulders and tossed it on the floor, his breathing coming in harsh pants when she began to kiss a path down his chest, her excitement mounting, racing his own as she moved farther down his body. And then she was on her knees, confronting the clasp of his pants, undoing it but making no move pull his erection free. Max could feel the puffs of air she exhaled moving through the material and scalding him. "Please, Liz, don’t tease me, " he pleaded, attempting to thread his fingers through her hair only to be met with her up-do. His hand clenched back to his side, not wanting to yank the pins out so unceremoniously. He felt the brief bubbling of her amusement but forgot to ask what it was about when she reached into his pocket for a condom, stroking his cock through the material of his pants. "Liz!" he growled impatiently.

"We’ve got all night," Liz soothed, caressing his butt lightly as she finally gave in and pulled his black slacks down. His shoes and socks followed and then she reached up to slide his boxers off, her eyes darkening as his cock sprang free, begging for attention. She ran her finger lightly up the back of his leg, watching in fascination as his manhood twitched in response. He was so hard. She glanced up at his face, his features soft and yearning in the dim light. So beautiful.

Max shook his head, humbled by the depth of emotion. He held his wife’s gaze. "Touch me. Please."

Liz caught her breath at the husky plea. Max’s voice seemed to shiver along her spine. Taking a deep breath she slid her hands to the front of his thighs, moving in the direction she knew he wanted her to go.

Max bit his lip but couldn’t keep his hips from thrusting forward a little, needing to relieve the ache she’d created. And God! She hadn’t even really touched him yet. “Liz…” Her name was a demand, a plea, a need. Her response was to lean in and slide him slowly into her mouth, eliciting a long, low moan as Max let his eyes close briefly against the pleasure.

Liz stroked him in and out of her mouth, reaching between his legs to cup his sacs, loving the feel of them in her hands and the jolt of pure, aching pleasure that shot through him and into her across their connection. She could feel him losing control, could feel the pleasure coursing through his body and her own body responded. Her nipples ached against the confines of her dress and she could feel how wet she was getting. Her hips moved restlessly as she whimpered against the flesh in her mouth, feeling his impending release and the promise of her own in its wake. But she was shocked into stillness when she felt his control snap firmly back into place and he reached down to cup her face, holding her away from him as he slid his manhood slowly from her mouth.

"Liz, stop. Stop." Max was breathing harshly, his chest heaving as he fought to gain control of himself.

"What? Why?" Liz asked, confusion evident as she sat back on her heels and looked up at him. She knew he’d been enjoying it. A lot. So why…she gasped as Max pulled her up his body for an open mouthed, tongue dueling kiss. She was breathless when he allowed it to break

"Not like this. I want…I want to be so deep inside you that you won’t know where I end and you begin.” Max leaned in for another kiss, moaning against Liz’s lips as she rocked her hips against his arousal, her body aching for release. “And you’re gonna be screaming my name," he promised harshly,

Liz could swear she felt her womb contract at his words. The throbbing at her core increased tenfold. "Really?" she tried to challenge, but her voice was more of a croak and the knowing smile on his lips almost stopped her heartbeat.

"Really," Max said, nodding as he backed her up towards the bed. He cupped her face, glancing at her hair in brief annoyance. "It looks great Liz, but the pins have got to go." Gently pushing his fingers into her hair, Max let loose a small surge of power, loving the way her hair fell around her shoulders, silhouetting her face and covering his hands as the pins dropped harmlessly to the floor. And again, she was amused. "What?"

Liz leaned in to kiss her husband, loving the way his fingers tightened in her hair as he pulled her closer. "I only put it up so you could take it down," she admitted.

Max blinked and then smiled wolfishly. "Glad I could be of service," he whispered, kissing each shoulder before sliding the straps of the dress down over her arms, his eyes following it’s progress to the floor. "You’re not wearing any underwear," he said, shocked in spite of himself. And incredibly turned on.

Liz tried to smile but the pure desire shining from Max’s eyes made her breath hitch and she licked her lips unconsciously. "I had plans for our married people time, too."

"Care to let me in on them?" Max asked, laying her down on the bed.

"You’re doing great." Liz whispered as Max slid her legs apart and settled between them. He rolled slightly to the side, supporting himself on his left elbow, kneading her breast gently before lowering his mouth to her nipple, his tongue teasing the hard bud and then pulling it between his lips. Liz tangled a hand in the hair at Max’s nape, exhaling his name on a sigh as she gave herself over to the pleasure. And then his right hand trailed down to the source of her arousal and began teasing her folds. Her hips bucked in electric pleasure. "Max!"

"I love the way you say my name," Max said softly. “Did you know that? Know what else I love?” He smiled at her frustrated impatience with his questions.

“Max! Just…” Liz reached down, ready to force the steady rhythm faster, but Max brushed her hand away, ignoring the insistent bucking of her hips as he settled his weight fully between her legs, the head of his cock, teasing her entrance but never sliding into her passage. “Max…”

“Your turn to put yourself in my hands,” Max reminded her, gently sliding his hand between their bodies to finger her clit, rolling lazy circles around the nerve endings and driving her crazy. He watched as Liz’s eyes closed on a moan, her head falling back against the pillow in eager surrender. Taking the cue he slid two fingers into her slick passage, loving the delighted gasp she let out at the intrusion. When her hips began to thrust harder against his hand he removed his fingers, prolonging the delicious agony as he traced a path back to tease her clit.

"Please!" Liz groaned in frustration.

"You’ll get there." Max promised

"When?" Liz arched her back frantically and moved against his hand, her breath coming in sharp panting gasps, mingling with his own shortened inhalations. The pressure increased but it still wasn’t enough. She slid her hands down his back to his butt, her knees falling back against the bed as she arched against him, forcing the rhythm of his fingers a little faster. And then she exploded. Only she wasn’t done. She inhaled sharply as Max drove into her while her orgasm was still rippling through her body. "Oh God!"

Max exhaled sharply, his hips already rocking against Liz in the rhythm she’d been demanding for the last few minutes but, God! Any thought of prolonging their pleasure was lost in the silken feel of her walls closing around him, their connection wrapping around them, fanning the flames. He closed his eyes, needing to be closer, deeper, feeling Liz press herself more fully against him, needing, wanting, having. He was barely able to pull out before he was thrusting more deeply into her tight passage, loving the feel of her cumming around his hard, heated flesh even as he felt her build towards another climax. Her body was trembling uncontrollably and his own trembled in response. He pressed into her deeper, thrusting harder as she wrapped her legs around him. He moaned as he felt her hard nipples graze his chest, his hips beginning to move frantically when he felt her come apart in his arms. She screamed his name on a sob and her walls clamped down on his cock, milking his response from his body and tearing her name from his lips. He came, pumping helplessly into her body and then falling against her, breathing heavily and feeling like he could take on the world. Tomorrow. When he could move again.

Looking down at Liz’s sated, content features, Max felt a swell of masculine pride. "Told you you’d be screaming my name." Her lazy smile and unfocused gaze were worth the swat in the arm.

Another fly-by post people, but I wanted to make sure I got chp 70 up before Christmas.

Just wanted to say thanks for the FB, it's truly appreciated. rar1942 had to laugh - you reminded me of Bill Engval talking about the differences he'd noticed in his marriage after 20 years - "When you're first married you have a fight just so you can have make up sex. After 20 years you have a fight just so she'll sleep on the couch." Anyhoo - the nookie muse ran amuck so here's the rest of 69...hope ya'll enjoy. We'll be getting back to um, other plot lines after the holidays.

But for now I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday, whatever you celebrate and a fabulous New Year!

I'll be back with part 70 in a sec. Here's hoping 'The Conversation' is worth all the build up.

Pathos

PS NorafanofMaxandLiz - I'm excited to hear about your story and I'm hoping to find a few extra minutes to go check it out after the holidays.



******69b******************


“You din’t make dis wight,” Xan announced, pushing his chocolate milk across the table.

Maria caught the glass before it could topple over and smiled apologetically at the harried looking waitress. “It’ll be fi…”

“Nuh-uh,” Xan contradicted mulishly, glaring at the waitress who’d been ignoring them forever. “Is not wight.”

“I’ll make it right in a second, rugrat,” Michael said, leaning down to whisper in Xan’s ear. He wasn’t about to start adding Tabasco to a four year olds drink with the waitress still watching. Of course, Xan just seemed to be getting more frustrated and the waitress didn’t seem to be leaving. He sighed, forcibly suppressing the paranoid urge to tell the middle aged woman that they hadn’t just lifted Xan from a shopping mall, so she could quit staring at them like she’d be calling the authorities on her next break. Shooting a baleful look at his girlfriend, Michael silently shook his head. Brilliant idea, keeping Xan’s mind off Max and Liz by eating at the restaurant, he thought at her sarcastically.

“But I don’ want it wight,” Xan said impatiently, no longer willing to wait for the ‘fun’ Maria kept promising. “I wanna go ho…”

“Let’s forget the chocolate milk,” Maria suggested brightly, handing the glass back to the waitress and kicking herself for the ‘let’s eat at the restaurant’ idea. Taking a quick peek at Michael’s expression she figured he was about ready to kick her himself. She shrugged helplessly. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. “Why don’t you try something different, something…something Michael told me he thinks you’d like.”

Xan shook his head, his spine straightening stubbornly. “ I want…”

Something Michael thinks you’d like?! Michael wiped the shock from his expression and gave in to Maria’s clear desperation. “How about I show you how to make a Martian Sunset?”

Xan paused. “Wha’s dat?” he asked suspiciously.

“It’s really good,” Michael tempted, relaxing when Xan settled back down in his seat. He looked up at the waitress. “Can I get a glass of orange cola?”

“You want that on the rocks?” The waitress asked automatically.

Maria swallowed, forcing a smile and ignoring the ache that came with the memory of Alex draped over the counter at the Crashdown, drowning his sorrows in orange cola. It had been forever since she’d seen him, but his memory still had the habit of appearing out of nowhere and reminding her of…things.

Xan wrinkled his nose. “I don’ want wocks

Taking a deep breath, Maria studied Max’s little boy. He was almost a carbon copy of his father, aside from the pertness of his nose, maybe the roundness of his face, and the way his hair curled ever so slightly at the nape of his neck. Maria took a deep breath, her gaze drawn back to Xan’s innocent, questioning eyes when he reached out and tugged at her hand. “It just means she’s gonna put ice in the glass,” she explained absently.

“So how come she din’t say dat?” Xan asked, tilting his head to the side and watching Maria curiously

Maria smiled slowly. In a strange way, that particular gesture reminded her of Liz. “I…”

“Because waitresses like to complicate things,” Michael said, ignoring what was sure to become a pointed glare from his girlfriend.

Xan nodded. “Wha’s comp’icate?”

“It means they make things harder than they have to be,” Michael clarified dryly

“Oh.”

Maria glared playfully at her boyfriend. Later, she’d set him straight about his opinion of waitresses, but for now she was too busy being impressed by how well he was handling Xan. Same maturity level, she decided, hiding her smirk behind a sip of her tea.

“And that’s a Martian sunset,” Michael said, pouring Tabasco into Xan’s drink and only stirring it once so that the red and the orange didn’t completely blend. He started to hand the glass to Xan, but pulled it back quickly to take a large gulp himself. He’d seen Max do that on several occasions, and he was in no mood to be cleaning up spilled soda. He looked over at Maria, his eyes narrowing on her bemused expression. He’d ask about it later, he decided, turning his attention back to Xan. “Ok, here,” he muttered, giving in to the insistent tugging on his wrist.

Xan sat up on his knees and took the glass from Michael, smiling a little at the way the Tabasco floated through the soda. He took a hesitant sip, and then grinned around a longer swallow.

“What do you say?” Maria prompted, relieved to see Xan’s good humor restored.

Xan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and grinned. “Tanks. I needed dat.”

Michael grinned, settling happily into his seat when the waitress finally returned with their pizza. The rest of this night was gonna be a breeze.


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


Maria ran a quick hand through her disheveled hair before grabbing a big plastic bowl and the bag of Microwave popcorn. She glanced at the clock. It was 9:30…wasn’t Xan supposed to be asleep by now? Probably had too much sugar and caffeine she thought, cursing Michael and his cookies and his damn Martian sunsets. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. One night. One night wasn’t going to kill her, she told herself, turning back toward the living room.

But it might be her boyfriend’s last night on the planet, Maria decided, her mouth falling open when she saw the accident waiting to happen. “Michael!”

“What? We’re playing airplane,” Michael explained, still holding Xan high above his head, using his powers to steady the little boy.

“You almost gave him a concussion with that last turn! Put him down before he gets hurt,” Maria ordered. “Otherwise I’ll have to hurt you.”

“You’re no fun,” Michael muttered, retreating a step in the face of Maria’s glare and setting Xan firmly on the floor. “Max does that all the time.”

“Yeah,” Xan seconded. “Max does it all da time.” He looked up at Michael. “But he got da shield. Is easier to wide,” he hinted.

“Sorry rugrat, I didn’t get a shield.”

Xan nodded. “That sucks.”

“Tell me about…”

Maria stared. “Michael! I know he didn’t get that from Max or Liz.”

“Uh-oh,” Michael said under his breath.

“I can’t believe this. We’ve had him a grand total of four hours and you’ve already got him talking like a truck driver!”

“Maria, truck drivers say stuff a lot worse than ‘that sucks’.”

“Like what?” Xan asked curiously.

“Never mind!” Maria burst out sharply.

Xan glanced from Maria to Michael. “Is she mad?” he asked worriedly.

“Not at you, Xan,” Maria soothed, nodding pointedly at Michael. “At the idiot who’s teaching you bad things to say.”

“Oh.” Xan nodded sagely at Michael. “Sucks ta be da idiot, huh?”

Maria glared harder and Michael closed his eyes in defeat.


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


Max sighed contentedly as he cuddled Liz closer against his side, absently stroking her upper arm in a light, up and down caress. They’d been dozing lightly for the last hour happily tangled in the sheets and each other. "God, I’ve missed you."

Liz nodded, tightening the arm slung across his chest. "Missed you, too."

"You were – WOW."

"You too," Liz purred.

"I am going out tomorrow and buying my son the biggest brightest night light I can find and from now on he sleeps in his own bed. We’re gonna be firm. We are not gonna cave," Max added with a pointed look at Liz. "What?" he asked, feeling her emotions shift from vaguely amused to suddenly serious. “What?” he repeated, his own emotions dipping when she rolled away to rest on her elbow, her dark eyes solemn as she regarded him silently.

Resting her head in her hand Liz traced an absent path across Max’s chest, smiling a little in apology when he caught her hand and then rolled to mirror her position. "Yeah, about ‘your son’… Maria thinks we should tell him and I…I think she’s right," she blurted.

Max nodded, kissing Liz’s fingers lightly as he prodded "And?" He thought it was past time to tell Xan that he was his father, but he’d sensed an almost panicky hesitation on Liz’s part whenever they’d spoken of it so he’d held off.

Liz rolled her eyes, knowing that Max could sense her embarrassment was only making it worse. "It’s stupid," she mumbled.

Max brushed a lock of hair out of her face, rolling the end of it around his finger and tugging lightly "Tell me anyway," He suggested.

"It’s just…once you tell him, you’ll be Dad. And I’ll still be Liz." She caught the surprised look on her husband’s face and rushed to add "I told you it was stupid. It’s kind of like you feeling left out, I guess. It’ll be fine. Really."

"So…wait. You don’t want to be his mother?" Max asked, almost holding his breath as he waited for her response. “Liz?” He shook his head, a blurred feeling of disbelief invading his senses as he wondered bow the hell he could have missed this…whatever this was she was feeling. “Liz, talk to me,” he pressed.

"I’m not his mother, Max." Liz felt tears gathering in her eyes and felt ridiculous. Her heart ached, just as it ached every other time she’d thought of Max’s impending revelation over the last couple weeks. She looked away to take a deep breath, trying to steady herself and hide the lingering jealousy. It made her even more uncomfortable than it was making Max, and she didn’t know how to explain it. How did she tell him that this new pain had little to do with him and everything to do with his son. She hadn’t given birth to Xan, but she loved him as if she had. More than anything, she wanted to be his mother, but the fact remained she wasn’t.

Max winced at the heat of her roiling emotions, his own soul unsettled by the sudden import of this conversation. And then he stilled, focusing on the unshifting purity of emotion that echoed even through Liz’s turmoil. She loved Xan, loved him as if he were her own. Max supposed he’d known that for weeks now, but to be this connected to her after so long, to really know, to really feel how much she loved Xan…Max smiled, suddenly confident that everything was going to be fine. "So my mother isn’t really my mother?" he asked softly.

Liz blinked up at Max as he used a thumb to brush away the tear that had fallen. Confusion lit her features as she wondered where the hell that question had come from. And why the hell he was smiling. His elation seemed inappropriate, particularly in the face of her own misery, but she couldn’t help reaching for the odd reassurance it offered. "What are you talking about?"

"Liz, who does he run to when he falls down and wants someone to kiss him better? Who does he want to hold him while I check the closet for monsters? Who does he cuddle next to whenever he can? Who does he call for when he’s scared or when he wants to show off?"

"He calls for you to," Liz pointed out gently.

Max kissed her nose. "We’re worrying about you tonight, we’ll worry about me tomorrow. My point here is that he calls for you. He loves you. To him, saying ‘Liz’…that’s like saying ‘Mom’." He cupped her face lightly with one hand. "I already know how much you love him, I can feel it."

"I do, Max, as if he were my own but…" Liz fell silent, feeling the hot sting of tears behind her eyes as she struggled against Max’s uncharacteristic optimism. How could she explain that…

"Just tell me,” Max insisted. “We’ll figure it out together."

"One day he’s going to start asking questions,” Liz blurted out, rolling her eyes at Max’s confused shrug. “About…about Tess. We can’t lie to him, Max." She waited for her husband’s nod of agreement and then took a deep breath. "What’s he going to think of me when…what if I don’t measure up to her in his eyes?

Max stared at his wife. Did she really believe that Xan would find her lacking? “Liz, there’s no way…”

“No, I mean it, Max, listen." Liz didn’t even feel herself reaching for his hand or wringing his fingers as she imagined Xan’s reaction when he found out…everything. "What if he’s angry? I drove her to her death, Max! The rest of us might not have a problem with that, but don’t you think he will?" she questioned hoarsely, forcing the words past the clog in her throat.

Max sat up and pulled Liz into his arms, his heart breaking at the fear he heard in her voice and sensed across their connection. "Ok. It’s your turn to listen. Please, Liz just listen. When I think of my mother, it’s not the picture from the orb or even the idea of some woman on another planet that comes to mind. It’s my mother. Diane Evans. She’s Mom to me. It took me 12 years to realize how completely she loved and accepted me. She doesn’t care that I’m an alien, I’m her son. I don’t question that now." He tipped Liz’s chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. He needed her to see the truth, to feel it as he spoke. "Xan will never have to question it. He knows you love him. He’ll grow up knowing that his parents love and accept him and everything he can do. He won’t ever have the doubts that I did, not ever again."

"But what about…"

"Questions? We’ll answer them the best we can. If he asks about Tess we’ll answer him the…kindest way possible. Without lying.” Max agreed, placing a gentle finger against Liz’s lips when she started to interrupt. "I can’t tell you how he’ll react, but I can tell you that knowing about Tess won’t make him call out for her when he’s scared. He’ll still call for you. No matter what happens he’ll always know who his parents are. You and me, Liz. And he’ll always be able to fall back on the fact that we love him. We can work everything else out from there."

Liz blinked back her tears, feeling the pressure around her heart begin to ease as she let Max’s unmitigated certainty soothe her distress. "Parents, huh?"

“Please?” Max requested softly. “You told me, God it seems like years ago…you told me you thought that if I had the chance I’d give my son my heart." He paused to look deeply into his wife’s eyes, seeing the future he’d always wished for lurking in their depths. "A much greater gift would be if I could give him yours," he finished thickly.

Liz smiled around the tears she couldn’t help but shed. "It’s his,” she whispered. “He stole it as easily and completely as his father did."

Max stared down at his wife. Not for the first time he was completely in awe of her. The beauty of her heart and the kindness of her soul brought tears to his eyes, and for the first time in his life he was willing to believe that maybe there was a God. He’d sent up countless, thoughtless entreaties to the cosmos ever since he’d found out he was going to be a father, begging God or Fate or whatever dark magic that happened by to correct the mistake he’d so clumsily made.

Those prayers had finally been answered. Liz was going to be Xan’s mother in every way that counted. He swallowed hard, his arms tightening convulsively around his wife. "I love you,” Max whispered. “I don’t care whether I deserve you or not, I’m never letting you go."

"You’ll never get the chance Max. We belong together, remember?" Liz eased back enough so that she could look into his eyes. “I love you, too,” she whispered, letting herself fall into their connection as she kissed him. She sighed happily, her lips parting under his when he tugged at her lower lip. His awe and love wrapped tightly around her soul, making her feel safe and warm as he continued to plunder her mouth.

Liz sighed, her head falling back with the delicious slide of his fingers into her hair as she gave herself over to the moment. She knew suddenly that Madame Vivan had been right, she was not left wanting. Not her body, not her heart and not her soul. It was true that she’d never planned for Max to give her a child this way, but somehow she couldn’t seem to imagine their son, couldn’t imagine Xan any differently. He was theirs in every way that mattered. Liz could feel the contentment Max had searched so hungrily for begin to take root deep inside him and knew it flowered within herself. She could feel his soul reaching for her, gently calling her own, and she responded without even thinking.

Max shivered, his entire being warmed with the electric feel of his wife’s soul slowly joining his, sliding against it in gentle titillation. He moaned against her lips, his hushed desire a departure from the frantic need of earlier, though their communion was no less demanding for its sanctity.

Liz sucked in a breath when he rolled her over onto her back, the gentle passion of his assault coercing a long, keening whimper of need from her throat as he settled back between her legs. Her hips moved restlessly beneath his, the slide of his soul as arousing as the hard heat of his body. It was like she couldn’t be close enough to him as the physical need was tempered and strengthened by their soul’s desire. Her spirit reached more insistently for his, whispering through it, the two of them blending seamlessly, engulfed in the heady warmth of their love.

Max moaned low in his throat, his mind taken beyond the need for words when Liz threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him down for a slow, sweet kiss. His body moved languidly against hers, their arousal almost secondary as they focused completely on each other. He could feel her, the weight of her heart, the breadth of her love as it lodged deep inside him, her whole being reaffirming their commitment even as his did the same. He wanted to stay like this forever, stay whole and safe with his wife wrapped around him in every conceivable way. His breathing quickened in time with her heartbeat, his body tightening at the silken demand of her sheath.

Liz gasped out Max’s name, clinging to his broad shoulders and burying her face against his neck as he gathered her closer, holding her within the safety of his embrace even as he pushed her closer to the brink. It was strangely shattering, the tenderness of the moment, the complete communion after so many days of hurried kisses and rushed embraces. Tears fell from her eyes as her breath caught in silent release

Max closed his eyes, his head falling to rest heavily against Liz’s shoulder when his own release raced through him, leaving him trembling, his soul clinging to the security of hers, clinging to the security of them. Together. They would always be together. He could feel her soul accepting the vow then returning it in kind.

They would always be together.


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


“What?” Max asked softly, kissing the top of Liz’s head. He was already half asleep, would have been out if his whole body wasn’t still humming with the strong echo of their connection. He sighed happily, knowing they were both clinging to the immediacy they’d just experienced.

Liz smiled, her heart glowing with renewed vigor at the sight of Max’s sated features. She suspected she’d probably look as goofily content as he did if she weren’t suddenly worried. Her smile faded and she glanced at the clock again. "Married people time ended a half hour ago,” she told her husband softly. “I didn’t think he’d last that long.”

Max opened his eyes, glancing at the clock and then at Liz. "Me either, but they would have called if something happened, right?"

"Yeah. Of course. Yeah." Liz stared at the clock and then looked to the cell phone charging on the dresser. She could feel that nothing was wrong but… "Do you think it’s too late to just…check?"

Max shook his head. "It’s not that late, I’m sure Maria’s still up.” He sat up quickly, forced into coherence when his wife pulled herself from his arms. He watched her head to their closet, and then blinked at his sweatpants in confusion, wondering why in the heck she’d thrown them at him. “Liz?”

"We’re not talking to Maria naked." Liz said, pulling on her robe and gesturing impatiently for her husband to get dressed.


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


“That was Liz,” Maria called from the bedroom. She covered her mouth with one hand when she walked back into the living room and found Xan asleep on the couch.

Michael glared. “You wake him up, he’s yours to deal with,” he warned. Xan’s head was resting heavily against his thigh, leaving his left leg numb from the knee down, but he’d take it as long as the kid remained asleep. “What’d Liz want, to make sure we didn’t break the rugrat?” he asked, keeping his voice low and relaxing when Xan didn’t even more.

Maria smiled as her eyes lit on the hand Michael was resting protectively against Xan’s shoulder. He really had been wonderful tonight…when he wasn’t trying to run Xan into a wall. Or filling the kid with enough raw sugar to power the Concord. “Yeah, she was just doing the ‘Worried Mom’ thing,” she replied.

Michael nodded. “I’m not surprised.” He paused for a moment. “Actually, I’m surprised Max wasn’t doing the ‘Worried Mom’ thing,” he murmured.

Maria shook her head.

Michael sighed, suddenly on guard against Maria’s preoccupied expression. No way around it, he supposed. Not like he could make a break for it with one leg asleep. “What?”

“Do you believe in guardian angels?” Maria asked softly.

Michael stared at her, and then shook his head. And then he nodded. And then he shrugged. “What do you want me to say, Maria?” he asked, too tired to try to figure it out on his own, and way too tired to fight about it if she was so inclined.

“I don’t know. I mean, don’t you think that there’s someone up there watching out for us?”

“Watching us?” Michael asked, glancing uneasily at the ceiling.

Maria rolled her eyes. “I mean watching out for us, helping us, taking care of us…”

“O-K…”

“I think Alex is watching out for Xan,” Maria rushed out before she lost her nerve. She’d been thinking about it all night, and while a part of her thought she was nuts, the rest of her wanted Michael to tell her she wasn’t. She settled on the floor in front of the couch so that she was eye level with her boyfriend and waited expectantly for his response.

Michael blinked. “You do?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah. Listen, I’ve thought about this a lot, Michael and…it’s so like him, you know? He’d want to protect the one innocent victim in this whole mess the way…the way no one could protect him,” Maria finished softly.

Michael shook his head and reached out to gently cup her cheek. If the naked vulnerability in her eyes was any indication, that admission had cost her dearly. And while he may not completely understand what she was saying, what he did understand was the depth of her heart. And the fact that she needed him to just work with her on this. “I love you,” he whispered, his tone as soft as hers had been.

Maria swallowed, smiling around the tears in her eyes when he simply held her gaze, letting her know with characteristic bluntness that he’d go with her on this. But she also knew that he didn’t really believe her, and somehow she needed him to. “I love you, too. But…just think about it Michael, that vision Liz got about the Base…she never got a vision just from a picture before, maybe…maybe it’s Alex’s way of making sure that he didn’t …that he’s not gone for nothing,” Maria pressed.

“Maybe,” Michael agreed slowly. She still hadn’t let go, he realized. Not that he was really surprised. That was Maria, she held on to what she cared about with the tenacity of a bear. And really, he was pretty damn lucky that she did. “You know some tribes of Indians believe that a person’s spirit lives on as long as someone remembers them.”

Maria blinked. “Where’d you get that?”

“I have hidden depths,” Michael boasted with a teasing grin. “Plus is was on an old rerun of Highlander.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “You and people in kilts,” she muttered, before sobering. “I hope it’s true because I remember him all the time.”

“I know,” Michael told her softly, trying to shift away from the end of the couch without upsetting Xan. “Sit with us,” he invited.

“Why? You’ve already watched the movies and eaten all those horrible cookies, what’re we gonna do?” Maria joked.

“Now that the rugrat’s asleep, we can watch Braveheart,” Michael said, nodding at the tape that had a permanent place of honor on whatever VCR they owned.

Maria rolled her eyes. Why would I ever expect him to say cuddle, she asked herself, shoving the tape in the VCR and moving back towards the couch. Xan shifted restlessly and she froze, her panicked gaze meeting Michael’s as they both held their breath. A moment later the little boy settled back down to sleep and Maria exhaled slowly, already moving to the chair angled next to the couch. “I’ll just sit…here,” she said, nodding at Michael.

Michael nodded back. “Yeah. There’s good.”


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


Max finished off his grilled cheese, setting the plate and the Tabasco sauce on the bedside table before reaching for Liz’s plate. "So everything was ok?" he asked relaxing back into the pillows and pulling Liz down with him. Dinner had been an inspired idea, and now he planned to enjoy holding her all night without a little body pressed between them as they slept.

Liz smiled. "Yeah. He’s passed out on the couch with Michael. Evidently they finished the pizza, went through a batch of Michael’s cookies and then watched Top Gun, and Iron Eagle I and II, fastforwarding through all objectionable parts, of course."

"Of course," Max agreed, sighing happily when Liz relaxed against him. Then he felt her amusement bubble to the surface. "What?"

Liz looked up at him, laughing. "Maria says he’s too adorable for words but chasing, after Xan and Michael tonight was the best birth control she’s ever seen."

Max grinned back. "Michael thinks I should lecture at the high schools, says that teen pregnancy would go way down if they realized that you can’t have sex and children."

"Well, Mr. Evans I don’t believe we have any children here now." Liz pointed out archly, sliding her hand under the covers and into his sweatpants to lazily grasp his semi erect manhood. Max may have been exhausted, but she was suddenly wide awake. Her eyes darkened when Max swallowed hard and shifted restlessly beneath her ministrations. "Do you hear that?" she asked, leaning up to whisper in his ear as she continued to stroke his cock.

"What?" Max moaned.

"That, my friend, is the sound of you getting lucky."

"You’re trying to kill me," Max ground out, almost choking on the breath he’d inhaled when her thumb raked lightly over the tip of his erection.

"Want me to stop?" Liz asked innocently.

"Hell no!" Max thrust against her hand, exhaling sharply when she obligingly continued her slow rhythm. He stilled her hand long enough to rip off his sweatpants then drew her mouth to his for a kiss and slowly stripped his t-shirt from her body. She moaned as his hands stroked down her body, and across their connection he felt the spark of languid desire.

Max rolled over onto his back, taking his wife with him, his breath catching in his throat at her seductive smile. She was trying to kill him, he decided when she rose to straddle his hips. But he’d die a happy man. He closed his eyes briefly when she bucked gently against his erection as her weight brought it against his belly, but she didn’t take him inside her.

Liz licked her lips, her passion firing even more deeply when Max unconsciously mimicked the movement. She could feel his sudden need, but she ignored it. Feeling him hard and ready, resting impatiently at the juncture between her legs made her feel oddly powerful. She teased him with the slide of her body and the promise of more to come. But he didn’t want to wait.

Almost growling with his sudden frustration, Max pulled her down to him and kissed her hard, enjoying the haze of passion that swept her soul. "You may be on top, Liz but that doesn’t mean you’re in charge," He said, stilling the teasing motion of her hips. With her draped fully across his body it was easy to position himself at her opening. He moaned as she rubbed her nipples against his chest, his nerves fired by her body’s delighted shiver. He kissed her again, quieting any comment she thought to make about caveman tactics then gently guided her back into a sitting position, watching through hooded eyes as her head fell back once he was fully embedded inside her passage.

"God Max, you’re so deep," Liz breathed out as she began to move, the time to tease long past, especially when he reached to cup her breasts, teasing each nipple as he molded the flesh in his hands. Her inner walls fluttered in reaction and she heard Max groan as he tried to thrust up harder into her body. She rested one hand against his chest, trying to keep a steady rhythm as she moved slowly up and down his shaft but her hips jerked convulsively when he lowered a hand to attend to her clit.

Max shifted helplessly under Liz as she rode him slowly, drawing out the pleasure and causing him to begin to lose control. "Liz, please," He pleaded on a groan. "Faster…I know you want to…"

"I thought I wasn’t in charge?" Liz would have been prouder of the taunt if he hadn’t chosen that moment to bend his legs, giving himself more leverage to push deeper than she expected. "Oh God. Yes!" She reached behind her to grip his thighs, using them for better balance as she gave him what they both wanted.

"Liz…that’s it…please…more, " Max groaned, closing his eyes briefly and then forcing them open so he could watch the scene before him. Liz’s head was thrown back and her hair cascaded around her shoulders and over his thighs in a satin wave, her thighs straining taught around his hips as she lifted and lowered her body onto his, her eyes closed in pleasure as she whimpered his name, grinding against him in an ever increasing rhythm. The sight of them joined so intimately together sent the blood pounding even harder through his veins. "God, Liz…that’s it. Liz!"

She was so close. Max could feel it and he wanted to wait but the silken sensation of her inner walls fluttering desperately around him was too much. He thrust deeply into her one more time, spilling his warmth into her body as he let out a shout of release. Feeling her still trembling on the brink he reached forward to circle her clit.

"Max!" Liz came hard, riding out the wave of her orgasm and collapsing against his chest. She felt him lower his legs and bring his arms up to hold her body to him. She sighed, delighting in the small trembling shockwaves that followed her orgasm and kept him intimately joined to her.

Max used the last of his energy to reach down and pull the sheet over them. He allowed her to roll to his side, but kept her locked against his body, their legs tangled as they drifted towards slumber.

Just as sleep claimed her Liz heard him vow. "I swear to God, I’m getting our bed back."


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


Max sighed heavily, wiping a tired hand down his face as he finished remaking the bed. At least he could finally take a deep breath, he told himself, still recovering from the all-too-familiar feeling of his son reaching out for help when he was too far away to do anything but panic. It had been years since he’d felt Xan’s fear like that and he was still recovering from his own adrenaline infused response to it.

Michael cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other as he hovered in the doorway. “Xan’s looking for you, Maxwell,” he said quietly, half expecting Max to shove him out of the apartment. Through the wall. But Max only nodded, which made him feel worse. "Max, really I…I thought he was asleep and…" and even I’ve noticed Catherine McCormack’s resemblance to Liz, Michael thought. Great going Guerin, letting Xan see someone who looked remarkably like Liz getting her throat slit. Maybe next time you can find a tape of Max’s visit in the white room, he finished in self-disgust. He snorted internally. Like there was gonna be a next time.

Taking a deep breath, Max turned to his best friend. “Braveheart?” he asked quietly, once he’d gotten control of his temper.

“I thought he was asleep,” Michael repeated lamely. “I’m really sorry, man.”

Max nodded, taking another deep breath and finding it much easier to be forgiving now that Xan was more than a panicked terror echoing through Liz to him. Xan was home, Max reminded himself. Home and safe. “I know that, Michael.” Max could feel Liz calling to him and he could feel Xan becoming restless again. “We better get out there,” he said.

Michael scratched his eyebrow uncomfortably. “You think she’s ever gonna talk to me again?” he asked. Not that she’d needed to say anything. The look she’d given him when she opened that door…

Max shrugged, feeling somewhat better as he remembered the way Michael had backed away from Liz’s potent glare when she’d opened the door ten minutes earlier. He had the feeling that Michael’d been steeling himself for his anger, not Liz’s. He smiled a little. He hadn’t been surprised at all by the fact that his wife’s reaction had been every bit as strong as his own. “Eventually,” he told his friend. “But if you thought that movie list was extensive this time…” Max shook his head.

Michael snorted. “I deserved that,” he muttered.

“Yeah, you did. But…” Max looked at Michael as they headed for the living room. “She wasn’t much happier with me when I came home with The Lion King so…”

Michael nodded. “What’s wrong with that movie, anyway? It’s a cartoon.”

Max shrugged tiredly. “No clue. She melted it before I could even show it to Xan. Ooomph,” He reached out, catching his balance against the wall as his son skidded around the corner and then reached up to be held.

“Whewre wewre you?” Xan demanded burying his head against Max’s throat. “You gotta lock da doowr.” he whispered. He relaxed a little, feeling better now that Max’s arms were around him. He could still feel Liz inside his heart and he always felt safer with the both of them. His dream didn’t seem nearly so scary now.

“Ok, pal, we’ll lock the door right now, ok?” Max soothed, hugging Xan close


“Well, that’s our cue,” Maria said, heading out the door with Michael. “Liz…”

“It’s ok, guys, really,” Liz said, nodding at Michael. Now that she’d calmed Xan’s tears she was feeling much more in control of herself. She must look it too, she figured wryly. Michael didn’t look worried about losing his head anymore. “Thanks for watching him tonight,” she told Maria politely before turning to Michael. “I’ll be confiscating Braveheart later,” she told him sweetly.

“It’s yours,” Michael said fervently. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to watch it again without hearing Xan’s terrified screams. “We’ll see you guys later.”

Liz closed the door behind their friends and stepped back to let Max lock the door to Xan’s satisfaction. She guided them back to the couch and sank down next to Max, gently rubbing Xan’s back. “You want to tell me about your dream?” she asked softly.

Xan lifted his head from Max’s shoulder, biting his lip a little and shrugging uneasily at Liz. “Michael said isn’t weal, but it felt weally, weally weal,” he said.

“What happened, pal? What were you dreaming about?”

“I…Liz got huwrt, an den…an’ you got mad an,” Xan shook his head, the muddled images beginning to frighten him all over again. Max killing people cuz they hurt Liz. Only it wasn’t Max and it wasn’t Liz…and Dr. Dave was pulling him back into that room because Liz couldn’t help him anymore because she was…and Max was crying, but Liz was there and…he didn’t know how to make the images make sense. He just knew that they frightened him. “I don’ know,” he said miserably. He didn’t want to think about it anymore, he just wanted to feel safe.

Liz bit her lip and sent a questioning look in Max’s direction, wondering if they should press him further.

Max hesitated and then shook his head. “It’s been a long night, pal, we can talk about it later if you want.”

Xan nodded. “Kay,” he agreed quickly.

“Ok,” Liz said, feeling the last of her anxiety fade as Xan relaxed, shifting so that he was draped across both she and Max. “Tired, sweetie?” she asked when he offered them a wide, toothy yawn.

“Uh-huh.”

Ok, let’s head to bed then,” Max said, pulling his son back into his arms and rising from the couch.

“Wit you,” Xan demanded softly.

Max sighed. “Of course with us.”

Liz shot her husband an amused look, well aware that he wasn’t willing to let Xan out his sight any more than she was. “He can sleep in his own bed tomorrow,” she said dryly, following him into their bedroom.

Max nodded, already tucking Xan into their bed next to Liz. He kissed his son’s forehead, unable to help his small smile when he saw how quickly Xan was drifting back to sleep now that he was home and safe. “I promise, pal,” he whispered. “We’re never going to let anyone hurt you again.”

Michelle in Yonkers Tanks fowr bein' the best beta-slave out there. This one's for you...here's hoping you like the final edits...



***********Part 70*********************


Max sighed heavily, studying his son, his wide awake son, from the doorway. Xan had to be tired; in fact, Max knew he was tired. And truthfully, Max even knew why he refused to go to sleep. “Ok, pal. Here’s your water,” he said, handing Xan the glass then waiting by the side of the plane bed to watch his son make a production out of drinking the water as slowly as possible. Thank God he’d only filled the glass a quarter of the way. Taking the empty glass from Xan, he pinned the little boy with a pointed look. “What do you say?” he reminded him, already beginning to count, a habit he’d quickly adopted. One, two, three… Max mentally made it up to ten while Xan pretended to think about the appropriate response. “Xa…”

“Tank you,” Xan offered with a bright smile, which only widened when Max’s frustrated features relaxed into a soft grin.

“You’re welcome,” Max replied gruffly. “Now good night,” he said firmly, turning and making a break for the door. They’d already read the Sleep Book, and added the Runaway Bunny to the itinerary for good measure. He was fairly sure that Xan was just playing with him now, but maybe, Max thought, if he had enough stamina he could wait him out and get him to settle down.

“Max…”

One two, three… “Yeah, Xan?”

“You din’t check the closet.”

Max closed his eyes and set the glass on Xan’s dresser. So close, he thought, with a longing glance out Xan’s bedroom door. “Sorry about that, pal,” he said, making a U-turn to confront the closet door.

“Max!”

“What?!” Max asked, suddenly more awake as Xan’s alarmed voice echoed through the room.

“You fowrgot.” Xan reminded furtively, holding up his hand in imitation of the way Max spread all five of his fingers when using his shield. “You gotta be cawreful ’cuz dewre could be monstewrs in dewre,” he stage whispered.

Max took a deep breath and raised his hand. “Right, ok let’s…”

“You can’t do it like dat!” Xan burst out, aghast. “You gotta close da cuwrtins fiwrst.”

One, two, three… “Xan, there’s no window in your room,” Max reminded him calmly.

“But what ‘bout da one in yowr woom. Can’t dey see thwew dewre?”

“They’d need a really big lens, Xan.”

“But what if dey got a weally big lens. A weally, weally big lens.” Xan wondered aloud, biting his lip.

“They don’t,” Max said shortly.

“Bu’ how da you know?” Xan asked curiously

“I just know.” Max replied, running a frustrated hand through his hair. And then he forced himself to count to ten once again, anticipating another question when Xan opened his mouth. Jesus, he’d been in AP Trig, why did he get the feeling he’d never count past ten again? “Xan,” Max said firmly. “You are going to go to sleep tonight. In fact,” he continued, leaning over the bed and dropping a quick kiss on Xan’s forehead, “it’s time for bed now.”

Xan thrust his lower lip out in a patented pout. “But wha’ bout Liz? She din’t kiss me goo’night.” he pointed out.

“Liz is working tonight, you know that. She’ll give you a kiss when she gets home. And, no you’re not waiting up for her. And yes, I promise I’ll bring her in right when she gets home,” Max added, fairly certain of his son’s next two requests.

Xan scowled, sinking deeper into his bed as Max turned around and walked to the door. And then he sat up as something else occurred to him. “Ma-ax,” he sing-songed.

Max paused in the doorway. “What, Xan?”

“I gotta go to da bat’woom.”

Max let his head dip heavily in defeat. There was only one certainty in the universe in that moment: Xan was never going to sleep.

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

An hour later Max tiptoed from Xan’s room, careful not to jinx himself by gloating over this small parental victory. He did allow himself a satisfied smile however when his son’s soft snoring drifted down the hall after him. Ah, peace! Sighing heavily, Max made it to the living room and collapsed onto the couch. Liz wasn’t due for another few hours so he grabbed the remote and thought briefly about turning on the TV. Xan’s snoring hitched slightly and Max froze, carefully lowering the remote and nixing the idea of watching TV. There was no reason to wake Xan up before the nightmare did, he decided grimly, stretching out on the couch and beginning to feel guilty about getting Xan to sleep in the first place.

Ever since that first nightmare at Michael’s, Xan hadn’t gone one single night without a bad dream. Max could hardly blame him for not wanting to sleep in his own bed, not when all he ever seemed to do was wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Which, Max figured, was probably one of the reason’s he was so damn tired at 8:30 at night. Neither he nor Liz had been getting much sleep lately. They were too busy watching over Xan as he slept, holding their breath and waiting for the nightmare to hit. Max yawned loudly, as tired as his son, and not nearly as determined to stay awake. He’d just close his eyes for a second, he figured, and rest here while he waited for Liz to come home.

Xan whimpered softly in his sleep, his brows furrowing in distress as he fought to wake up. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t get away. They’d never let him get away.

“Alexander!”

“Stay ‘way fwom me!” Xan cried, kicking at Dr. Dave and then bolting from his room, only barely making it out before the heavy door crushed him. But Dr. Dave had made it out too, and Xan started running as fast as he could. He knew Liz was right down the hall, he knew it, he just had to get there. He just had to get to Liz and then he’d be safe.

“Fe, fi , fo, fum… So, Liz finally let the little shit come out and play…”

Xan screamed, skidding to a halt as that boy jumped out into the corridor ahead of him. He was laughing just like he’d been laughing that last night on the Base and his hand was glowing, pointing at him, and cutting off his way out. Xan whimpered, fully aware that he’d have to get past that boy to get to Liz. Or she’d have to come for him.

“LIZ!”

“I told you I was in charge, Alexander, Liz can’t help you now.”

“LIZ!” Xan screamed again, he could feel his heart pounding painfully in his chest. It hurt to breathe, and there was nowhere left for him to run. He backed against the wall, sinking to the floor under the weight of the knowledge that Dr. Dave was right. Liz was reaching for him, trying to tell him it was ok…but she was too far away. “Is not ok, is not ok!” he cried, whimpering as Dr. Dave stepped closer to him and the other boy slinked along the wall toward where he sat crumpled on the floor. He closed his eyes, trembling even harder when he felt Dr. Dave crouch down in front of him. “Liz…” Xan cried softly, his heart begging for her though he knew there was no way for her to help him now. She was still so far away. And Dr. Dave was right here and there was no one else. He gasped as Dr. Dave grabbed him, his hands hard and unyielding, so different from the warm, reassuring touches Xan had grown used to. He pushed angrily at Dr. Dave’s chest, sobs wracking his body as he saw that he was being carried back to that room. “I don’ wanna go dewre! I wanna go home! I WANNA GO HOME!” he shouted between sobs.

“We’re never going to let anyone hurt you again.”

Xan hesitated, his sobs catching in his chest, clogging his throat and making it difficult to cry much less scream. The warmth of that voice seemed to echo through his heart, turning his attention. He could feel something suddenly, something so real and so much a part of himself that he’d never even questioned it and really, barely noticed it. It was that connection, the one he’d always felt and never been able to reach for. Xan closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching for it now and feeling it swell and grow inside him. He stilled, strangely unafraid even as Dr. Dave continued towards his room because if he focused real hard, he could maybe feel the guy from the stars. He could feel him…and he was close. Xan knew now that he was waiting for him, waiting and reaching just like Liz was. Safe…his entire presence whispered of the safety Xan had been promised his whole life.

The heavy door slammed shut and Xan’s eyes flew open when he realized that he was back in his room, sitting on his bed with Dr. Dave standing over him.

“You’ve been very uncooperative Alexander. And now you must be punished.”

Xan shook his head, his lower lip trembling as tears streaked down his face. “No,” he whispered hoarsely. “No, please, I’ll be good. I’ll be good, I’ll…” and then the lights were shut off. He could almost feel his scream being swallowed by the inky blackness of his room. He begged Dr. Dave to turn the lights back on, but Xan knew he wouldn’t. “Is dawrk in hewre. IS TOO DAWRK IN HEWRE!” he shouted. “I WANNA GO HOME!” Please, please, please, Xan begged silently, reaching desperately. I jus’ wanna go home.

“We’re never going to let anyone hurt you again.”

MAX!

Max jerked awake, his heart pounding painfully in his chest as adrenaline rushed in a heated frenzy through his body. He stared at the shield shimmering around him, instinctively raised in protection against some unseen enemy. The apartment was silent, and for a foggy instant Max wondered what the hell had yanked him so unceremoniously from his nap. But then he knew.

“Xan!” Max shouted, throwing himself off the couch and rushing to his son’s room, fully prepared to send whatever was threatening Xan straight into oblivion. Only there was nothing there. Which only made his pounding heart ache even more. He headed quickly for the bed, reaching for his son and feeling Xan clinging even more desperately to him, the terror he was feeling echoing through their connection as he begged silently for help. “Xan, c’mon, pal, it’s time to wake up,” Max murmured, gently untangling the sheet from Xan’s legs. “Xan, you’re ok, I’m right…”

“MAX!”

Max closed his eyes against the sting of tears and swallowed hard as his son finally awoke from the nightmare and threw himself into his arms. “I’m right here, pal. You’re ok, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not ever,” Max whispered, rubbing Xan’s back as his son buried his head against his shoulder and sobbed. “Xan, listen to me, you’re ok now. Everything’s ok,” he soothed.

“I know.” Xan sobbed, clinging to Max’s neck. And he did. He knew he was ok, knew he was safe and that Max would never let anything happen to him. But the dream was so real, and he was still so scared… “I’m sowwy. I din’t mean it. I din’t mean it,” he whispered.

Max’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Mean what, Xan?” he asked gently, easing Xan away from his shoulder so that he could wipe the tears from his son’s eyes.

“I din’t mean to be bad.”

Max froze. “Xan, you were never bad,” he assured the little boy softly.

Xan swallowed hard, breathing more easily now that he wasn’t stuck in the middle of the nightmare. “But I musta did…sumptin. ’Cuz dey put me…dey took me an’…dey put me in dat woom.”

Forcing himself to remain calm, when his suddenly raging fury was anything but, Max caught and held his son’s gaze, gently wiping the moisture from his lashes. “I want you to listen to me, Xan. You didn’t do anything wrong. Those people did.”

“Cuz I’m special,” Xan muttered glumly.

“You are special, Xan. I think you’re the most special little boy in the whole world, but what that means to me is that I have to take extra special good care of you. Those people that took you, they were wrong. That’s why Liz went to bring you home,” Max finished softly, feeling the seriousness of Xan’s consideration as his son digested his words. But the tenacious grip Xan had on their connection never loosened, and he knew they weren’t really helping. Even though Max could feel Xan calming down, he knew that he wasn’t letting go of his fear, he was simply burying it. “Is that what you were dreaming about? Those people?” Max asked quietly.

Xan nodded slowly, feeling vaguely ashamed of himself as he scrubbed at his eyes. He was afraid again, as if talking about the dream would bring it back. Maybe it was already coming for him, maybe he only had another second in Max’s arms before he was running from Dr. Dave again.

Max nodded. “I have dreams like that too, sometimes, “ he admitted softly.

Xan blinked. “You do? Do they feel…”

“Really, really real?” Max finished gently. “Yeah, pal, they do. Sometimes it takes a second after you wake up to know you’re not really there.”

Xan nodded emphatically. “Is vewy scawry,” he whispered.

“Very,” Max agreed, shifting to lay back against the headboard. “You want to know what helps me?”

“What?” Xan asked curiously, mimicking Max’s position and stretching out at his side, careful to make sure that he stayed wrapped in Max’s strong arms.

“Talking about it. Sometimes, when you hear something out loud it doesn’t seem so scary anymore.” Max nodded to let Xan know he was serious. It was advice he’d never taken himself, but he knew his son couldn’t go on fighting these nightmares night after night.

Xan considered Max’s point for a second and then shook his head. “Dis is weally scawry, Max,” he hedged.

“I bet it is, pal.” Max struggled against his conscience, wondering if he was pushing too hard. Hell, he couldn't help wondering if he was right to make Xan talk about it at all. And then he shook his head. It was right, he could feel it. Now all he had to do was help Xan feel safe enough to talk to him. He looked down into his son’s open, curious expression and forced himself to continue. “Can I tell you about mine?” he asked softly.

“Suwre.”

Max nodded, feeling his own stomach dip and tighten with a terror that remained familiar no matter how many years passed. He took a calming breath and tried to smile reassuringly at Xan. “Ok, um, sometimes I dream that I’m in this room…that they’ve taken me back there and no matter what I try, I don’t think I can get out.”

“An’ does Doctewr Dave come an’ yell at you?” Xan interrupted. “He…he yells at me,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he continued. “He won’ let me go home.”

Max swallowed hard, watching his son’s lower lip trembling with the effort of holding back his tears. “That sounds very scary, Xan,” he whispered, wrapping their connection protectively around his little boy even as he pulled Xan closer, holding him against his heart. He could feel his son weeping silently, clinging to his shirt and their connection as the memory of the nightmare came back to him. He rocked Xan gently, letting him know it was ok. “That’s it, pal, just let everything out. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of anymore, everything’s alright now. You’re safe,” he soothed, rubbing Xan’s back as the rest of his exhausted tears fell away.

Safe. Xan felt the word echoing through his whole heart, making him feel warm inside. He bit his lip sheepishly, letting Max wipe the last of his tears from his face as he settled comfortably against his chest. “Did you cwy too?” he asked.

Max hesitated, his throat working silently as he considered his response. “Sometimes, pal,” he replied softly, acknowledging something he’d never admitted aloud to anyone else.

Xan nodded, snuggling closer as he let himself be soothed by the warm circles Max was rubbing against his back. “Who wubbed yowr back? Liz?”

Max smiled distantly. “She would have if she could have.” He looked down at Xan’s worried expression. “We weren’t married yet,” he said by way of explanation. “But I felt her when I needed to, right where it was most important,” he finished, laying a hand over his heart.

Xan nodded. He supposed Max was too big to have someone rub his back, anyway. And it was more important that he could feel her in his heart. “I feel hewr dewre too.” Xan whispered, placing his hand over Max’s before dropping it over his own heart. He blinked a little, suddenly aware of something else, someone else entirely. He drew back, so he could look up into Max’s eyes. “Hey! I can feel you in dewre, too,” he whispered, awed.

Max’s eyes widened in sudden realization. This whole time, the force of the connection… God, it was the most natural thing in the world. He hadn’t even noticed it until now. He smiled at Xan letting his little boy feel all the happiness and love he had in his soul, and wrapping him even more tightly in the safety of their connection. Their connection, his soul sang happily. “Guess what, pal? I can feel you in my heart, too,” he whispered thickly.

Xan stared, his head tilted a little as he concentrated on the feeling, happily dwelling in the warmth of the emotion Max was sending him. It was everything he’d always thought it would be, everything he’d always wished for. And suddenly he knew. “Hey! Youwr not dewre anymowre,” Xan burst out, struggling to sit up and stay wrapped in Max’s arms all at the same time.

Max shook his head in confusion. He could still feel their connection, and he knew Xan could, too. “Where, pal? I’m not where?”

Xan rolled his eyes impatiently, one forefinger extended to point past the boundary of the ceiling. “Dewre, Max! Youwr not in da stawrs no mowre,” he said excitedly.

Liz bit her lip, pressing herself back against the wall outside Xan’s room and blinking back tears, as she listened to her two guys whisper softly to each other of monsters and things even more profound.

Max opened his mouth and then closed it again, his breath catching somewhere in his throat as his eyes followed the line of Xan’s finger. He wondered briefly if he looked as shocked as Liz had the day he’d done that exact same thing to her. He swallowed hard, knowing that the conversation he’d been agonizing over was coming on faster than he’d ever imagined possible. He cleared his throat. “No, Xan, I’m not there anymore,” he admitted quietly.

“How come?” Xan blurted, studying Max curiously.

Max took a deep breath, a million answers racing through his brain, none of them acceptable. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if any of them made sense. And then he paused, focusing on his connection to Xan. He smiled at his son and opted for the simplicity of the truth. “Because you and Liz are right here, Xan,” Max said solemnly. “So this is where I belong.”

Xan nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he agreed, settling back against Max’s chest. “Dis is whewre we belong.”

Liz caught her breath, cherishing the strength of their connection as it echoed through to her, as right and as natural as her connection to both of them. She closed her eyes in relief, letting the heady warmth of their emotion soothe the fear that had sent her running from the restaurant before her shift was over. Everything was ok. Everything was more than ok. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, or the happy tears that were already flowing down her cheeks.

“Max?”

“Yeah, Xan?”

“You always been in dewre,” Xan whispered uncertainly, his hand still over his heart.

Max stilled, careful not to let his own apprehension overwhelm his son. He could feel Xan focusing intently on their connection, studying it with single minded interest as he tried to work out everything he wanted to say. Like father, like son, he supposed. “And?” Max prodded lightly.

“Cuz why?”

Xan, I’m your father. Max took a deep breath, the four words somehow getting lodged deep in his throat. Too Star Wars, he decided, and not nearly as simple as they sounded. He looked down into his son’s eyes, the solemn expression on his face tugging at his heart. Max could feel him fiddling absently with their newfound connection, testing its strength as he waited for his answer. He held Xan closer, soothing the nervousness from their connection as he dropped a gentle kiss on his son’s forehead. And suddenly he knew.

The full strength of the connection to Xan granted Max a clarity he’d longed for from the beginning. The echo he’d been feeling this whole time was nothing compared to the living, breathing presence of his son clinging to him, needing to hear out loud what he’d already begun to understand instinctively. Max could feel his entire being hush with the intensity of the moment, and knew Xan’s spirit was following his example. “Can I show you something, pal?” he asked quietly.

Xan nodded easily. “Uh-huh,” he replied, reaching to be held when Max stood up.

Pulling Xan once more into his arms, Max headed for his room, surprised for the first time in years by Liz’s presence.

Smiling a little at Max’s chagrined expression, Liz wiped inconspicuously at her eyes. She could feel how completely both he and Xan had been focusing on each other and guessed that the Special Unit could have waltzed into the apartment and it would have taken them a second to catch on. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” she said quietly.

“You’re not interrupting,” Max replied.

“Nuh-uh,” Xan seconded. “An’ know what? Max is gonna show me sumptin. An’ know what else…” He paused dramatically and then leaned toward Liz, holding onto Max’s shoulder to steady himself. “He’s da guy fwom da stawrs, Liz!” he whispered excitedly.

Liz smiled gently. “I know, sweetheart,” she whispered, cupping his chin gently and reveling in the contentment she saw in his eyes.

Xan blinked. “You do?”

“Yeah, pal, we’re going to explain everything so… let me just show you this, ok?” Max requested softly, heading across the hall into his bedroom.

Xan allowed himself to be deposited on the bed and then settled next to Liz as they both watched Max rifle through the drawer in the bedside table. “Wha’s he lookin’ fowr?” he asked Liz.

Liz shook her head. “We’re just going to have to wait and see, sweetie,” she told Xan, giving her husband an encouraging smile when he turned around and looked at the two of them. He was nervous, she could feel that. And so elated. Her smile widened as Xan craned his neck, trying to see what Max held in his hand. She wasn’t sure which of them was more excited, and her own heart swelled with emotion. They’d both been waiting, Liz realized. They’d both been waiting so long for this.

“No happy tears just yet,” Max warned gently, leaning in to drop a quick kiss on his wife’s lips and taking as much strength and comfort as he offered. Then he sat down on the bed next to his son and showed him what was in his hand.

Xan reached out and touched the picture, pointing at the baby Max was holding so securely in his arms. His face twisted into a brief scowl before he allowed himself to be soothed by the way Max was wrapped around him. The reminder of their connection smothered the brief spurt of jealousy, but only barely. “Who’s dat?” Xan asked cautiously. “Is he da baby dat went ’way?” How come that other baby got to be in Max’s arms? And there was something else, something familiar… Max was crying, and Liz was holding him…

Max’s stared down into his son’s strangely knowing yet innocent eyes, his mind spinning with the myriad emotions he could feel. “Xan, how do you know about…the baby going away?” he asked, stunned by Xan’s knowledge. Had he heard something and just not said anything until now? Max looked over at Liz but she looked just as confused as he was.

Xan shrugged uncomfortably. “I saw it,” he whispered, glancing uncertainly at Liz, feeling everything working itself out in his head as he spoke.

“When did you see it, Xan?” Liz asked, reaching for the little boy and letting him know that everything was ok. She knew Max was doing the same thing, adding his own deep reassurance and warmth to the fullness of their familial connection. She smiled softly at Xan, feeling him juggling his confusion along with the connections he was clinging to, unwilling to let go of either her or Max.

“When I kissed yowr boo-boo,” Xan explained softly. “I saw lotsa stuff.” He hadn’t realized that’s who Max was saying goodbye to before, but he knew now that it was true. He could feel it. “You cwied,” he said softly, looking up at Max, unable to hide the return of his jealousy. “You cwied like a baby.”

Max took a deep breath, reaching out for his son and soothing the frustrated emotion gently from their connection. “I did cry,” he admitted. “But Xan… I was sad because I had to let you go. You’re the baby in these picture,” Max explained gently, showing Xan the pictures he still held in his hand. It had been something of a miracle that they were even in the Chevelle the night they’d had to leave, but he’d been grateful for even those small reminders ever since.

Xan blinked, pulling a picture from Max’s fingers and studying it before looking back up at Max and Liz in surprise. “I am? But… you held me when I was a baby?” he asked, still confused by what Max was trying to tell him.

“Yeah, Xan I held you when you were a baby. I held you was much as I could,” Max said, his voice gravel rough. He cleared his throat impatiently. “See, pal…”

“Did Liz?” Xan demanded, frustrated by the strange apprehension stealing through his connection to them.

Max nodded. “She did.”

“Of course I did,” Liz replied quickly, wondering at Xan’s sudden mood change and hoping to ease a little of his anger.

“Do you got a pictuwre?”

“Um, well…” Liz looked over at Max, beginning to wonder if they should just drop this for the moment and let him calm down, but Max was already shifting so that he could reach the wallet in his back pocket.

“Of course there’s a picture.” Max soothed, pulling one from his wallet.

Liz breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Having an alien husband really did come in handy, Max would just wave his…hand the picture to Xan without changing one damn thing on it. She looked over Xan’s shoulder at the photo he was cradling in his hand along with the larger picture of him and Max. She was holding him. “Where did you…I never saw that,” Liz murmured, glancing at her husband. But suddenly she remembered it being taken. She remembered laughing with Mrs. Evans over the amount of spit up one 10 month old baby could produce and she remembered being utterly shocked when Max simply glowered at the two of them and then handed the baby to her so that he could go get cleaned up. And she remembered staring down into Xan’s eyes and recognizing the gentle echo of his father for the first time.

Liz reached for Xan now, letting him feel all the warmth and love she had for him as she leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head.

Max reached behind Xan and squeezed Liz’s fingers gently, feeling the ebb and flow of her emotions. “It’s always been in my wallet, I…it’s behind the one of Xan,” he explained softly, grateful to feel Xan relaxing against them again as he studied the pictures in his hands, gently tracing first Liz’s face and then his before looking up at him.

“Did I live wit you when I was a baby?” Xan asked, needing them to make everything he was feeling make sense.

Max nooded. “You did for a little while, pal.” He took a deep breath and stared down into his son’s confused eyes. “You lived with me because you’re my son, Xan.”

Xan stared. “I’m yowr son?” he whispered, his heart was pounding along with Max’s and everything suddenly felt heavy. “But… no one tol’ me.”

“I know, pal. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time now, but…”

“Den why din’t you?” Xan demanded, feeling tears sting the back of his eyes. He wasn’t even sure why, it just hurt.

“I… that’s a little complicated,” Max said quietly, wishing he could leave it at that, but the expression on Xan’s face told him otherwise. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to continue.

Xan shook his head. He could feel Liz and Max both reaching for him but that did nothing to ease his suddenly overwhelming confusion. “But… if I lived wit you…” he shook his head again, seeing some of the pictures he’d always had in the back of his mind, focusing on them as he tried to understand what was happening. “If you had me, why’d you let me go?”

Max felt his heart aching painfully with his son’s confusion. “Xan, listen to me, I…”

Xan’s eyes widened as a horrible thought occurred to him. “You din’t want me?” he whispered, the conclusion seemingly borne out with the strange echo of a voice he couldn’t remember. Your father doesn’t want you, baby. So stop reaching, I’m all you’ve got. “Why din’t you want me?”

Voice strangled, Max fought to convince Xan he was wrong. “Xan, listen to me, I have always wanted you, always. I have always loved you and I always will.” Max could feel the depth of Xan’s sudden pain and he could feel his son retreating from the new cohesion of their connection. He thanked God that he could also feel how much Xan didn’t want to. Even as the little boy pulled back, Max could feel him reaching, almost desperately for him and Liz. Needing them to show him he was wrong.

Max reached for his son, feeling Liz following his lead as they both gently encouraged Xan to stay connected, neither of them allowing the link to close down, and neither pushing forward until they felt he was ready. Breathing more easily as Xan reached hesitantly for their connection, Max pulled his son into his arms, cradling him against his chest as he poured all of the love he had through their bond, desperate to ease the pain in both their hearts. “I have always loved you Xan. And I have always wanted you,” he whispered.

Xan nodded, clinging to his Max’s neck as he cuddled closer to the warmth and security he’d always craved. It didn’t hurt so much to breathe anymore. He knew that whoever had said that was wrong, and he could feel his worry falling completely away as Liz scooted closer to them so she could rub gentle circles against his back. Xan felt safe again, cocooned in something warm and permanent he didn’t yet have the words to describe.

“We both love you so much, Xan,” Liz whispered. “We’re never going to let you go again.”

Xan nodded. “But…”

But why did you? Max could hear the question whispering through Xan’s soul, though he said nothing. Gently raising his son’s head from his shoulder, Max captured Xan’s gaze, recognizing his vulnerability. “I want you to trust me for one more second, ok, pal?” He smiled at Xan’s easy nod. “Thank you. Now just look at me, and breathe like this, in and out…”

Xan looked up into Max’s eyes, feeling oddly…open as he mimicked his deep breaths. He bit his lip, but almost immediately his worry fell away as silly. Because he suddenly realized that it was the easiest thing in the world, falling into his father’s heart. And there was even more love there than he imagined.

Wrapped in their connection, Xan watched the story of his life from his father’s eyes. He could feel his dad’s desperation when he thought he was lost and he knew then that he had always wanted him. On the heels of Xan’s relief was an odd pride. Xan sat up straighter, surprised and amazed that he could make his father so incredibly happy, but he had. He could still feel the echo of the joy his dad had felt the first time he’d held him in his arms. And then he knew the incredible, wrenching pain when someone took him from his dad’s arms and drove away with him. Even then his father had wanted him, so much that the only thing that had kept him standing was Liz.

Xan saw her now, saw images of her wedding, strangely inside out from the ones he’d seen inside her. And he felt how much she loved him, he knew what he meant to her. He’d never felt so safe, so secure and he was ready to stop now, but there was more that his father wanted to show him. Xan could see that his dad had been happy, but now he understood that a piece of his heart had always cried for him. Xan reached out, feeling bad that his dad had hurt like that. He didn’t want either of his parents to hurt. But it was already ok.

Xan smiled, his whole spirit lightened with the giddiness of his dad’s overwhelming excitement. He’d been so excited as he waited for them to come home. He couldn’t wait. And Xan knew that his father loved him, loved him as much as his mom did. It was just like he’d always suspected. It was… right. He wouldn’t have to find Never Never Land because he belonged right here and he knew that his mom and dad would never let anyone take him away again. Sighing happily, Xan reached for both of them, cuddling deeper amidst the connections that made up his family. He was home and he was loved.

Max gently broke the contact with his son, easing them back into their normal connection once he felt Xan relax entirely into what he was trying to tell him. “I love you, Xan. Do you see now?” he asked gently.

Xan nodded, smiling shyly at his dad before wrapping his arms once again around his neck and hugging him tight. “I love you, too,” he whispered back, a quiet understanding echoing through their connection. “Yowr my dad. Fowrevewr.”

Max closed his eyes, enfolding his son in a desperate hug as he forced back the tears. “That’s right pal, I’m your dad forever,” he vowed thickly, giving up on trying to speak around the emotion clogging his voice.

Liz smiled at her husband, running her hand up and down his arm to help balance his emotions. She wasn’t sure how helpful the gesture was, considering the tears that were streaming from her eyes.

“An’ Liz is my mom.”

Max stared at his wife. He could feel her internal debate and knew it mirrored his own. He didn’t want to tell Xan about Tess. He didn’t even want to think about Tess, but Liz was right. They couldn’t lie to him. He took another deep breath. “Xan look at me, there’s something else we have to talk about.”

Xan’s eyes narrowed at his father’s tone. “What?” he asked suspiciously, sitting back in his dad’s arms and looking from him to his mom.

“Sweetheart…” Liz began, and then fell silent, uncertain how to soften this for any of them.

Max sighed. “See, pal, Liz isn’t exactly your mother.”

Xan scowled at his father. He was wrong. It was that simple. Couldn’t he feel that he was wrong? “She’s yowr wife,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but…”

“Den if yowr my dad, she’s my mom,” Xan concluded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Sweetheart, I wasn’t his wife when you were born,” Liz inserted gently. “There was another woman and she gave birth to you but she… died and…”

His scowl deepening, Xan turned back to his father. “Was she yowr wife?” he demanded impatiently, wondering why nobody else saw or felt what was so clear to him.

“Er, no, Xan, Tess and I weren’t married but…”

Xan’s brows furrowed. Tess. The name was familiar… pulsing light, pain… he could hear a baby crying and someone shouting that name. No help… He shook his head, breathing heavily as the faint memory slipped away, leaving him with the only truth he understood. Liz was his mom. “Liz is yowr wife now,” he tried again.

“Yes, but…”

“Den why can’t she be my mom?” Xan demanded, feeling exhausted tears stinging his eyes. What was wrong with his parents, anyway? Why couldn’t they admit he was right? He knew that he was. It made everything else make sense. Xan reached up and placed a hand over his father’s mouth when it looked like he was going to say something. “She loves me,” he pleaded.

Liz took a deep breath, good intentions aside, she suddenly saw that pushing this wasn’t going to help anyone. “I do love you sweetheart, I love you very much and I’m not going anywhere,” she began.

Xan nodded. “I know. Cuz yowr my mom,” he whispered.

Liz smiled softly and then reached out, gently brushing the hair from Xan’s eyes before cradling his cheek against her palm. “I would very much love to be your mom,” she whispered to him.

“You awre my mom,” Xan countered.

“Liz is your mom in every way that’s important,” Max said firmly, hoping to soothe Xan’s distress as well as balance the well of emotion that threatened to send more happy tears down his wife’s cheeks.

“I know dat,” Xan said, smacking his head in dramatic frustration.

Liz couldn’t help her small smile, and she knew Max was fighting his own relieved amusement over Xan’s impatience. “Sweetheart, we just wanted to be honest with you. We don’t ever want to lie to you about anything, that’s why we told you about Tess, so if you have any questions you know you can always ask your dad or me,” she explained.

Xan nodded, grateful to feel that they were finally ready to stop arguing with him. Fighting a yawn, he relaxed against his father, letting his head fall heavily against his shoulder. After everything he was suddenly very very tired. “’Kay,” he muttered, closing his eyes. “Mom? Dad?”

Liz swallowed convulsively. He’d just called her mom without any hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She could feel Max reeling through the same shocked awe that wanted to render her speechless. “Yeah, sweetie?” she asked, forcing her voice out past the clog in her throat.

“What, pal?” Max echoed thickly, his voice barely audible. His son…his son just called him dad. It had to be one of the most profound moments of his life.

“Can I sleep in hewre tonight?”

Hey all -

I'm back. Sorry this next part took so long, RL has just been insane lately. I can't even tell you how moved I was by all your kind FB regarding 'The Conversation'. It made all the wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth totally worth it. Seriously, I can't tell ya'll how much your investment in this story means to me, just know it's totally appreciated.

Oh, and it sounds like everyone's a bit concerned about what comes next...can't imagine why...this is me.

If it makes you feel better, RL has calmed down a bit - plus I got my beta-slave back. Yay! Thwee Cheewrs ta Michelle in Yonkers! so I should be back on my twice monthly posting schedule...maybe more. (Yeah - keep in mind I've had a lot of caffeine today. )

And on that note - time to start moving back into the other part of the story...the part with the Air Force and Nicholas. Since I know it's been a while, I'll be posting some reminders as necessary, just so we're all on the same page.

See ya'll soon
Pathos

Annnnnd, without further ado....





Previously on To Have & To Hold……

“It’ll be ok, Liz. I’d die before I let anything happen to either of you.” Max whispered vehemently, hoping to allay the stark panic he could feel washing over her in waves. It had come out of nowhere with a forcefulness that surprised him and left him somewhat off balance. He reached for her more forcefully, wrapping around her soul even as he held her close against his heart.

Swallowing hard, Liz forced herself back to the present, to the moment she was living held securely in her husband’s arms and cradled within his soul. It almost wasn’t enough to still her trembling and she clung to him desperately, grateful for the connection winding through them, binding them together and holding the fuller vision at bay. “Max, please just…stop it.” she ordered.

“I can’t just…stop it.” Max replied, vaguely amused. “You know how much you mean to me. If anything ever happened to you, or to Xan I…”

“What, and I could live with myself if something happened to you?” Liz asked incredulously, pulling away to glare up into Max’s startled gaze. She stood up and paced restlessly in front of the couch. “Don’t you get it? This whole…thing – the running, the hiding – all of it…the only thing that makes it ok is that we’re together!” she said, pausing long enough to continue glaring at Max.

“Liz, I agree with you, I…” Max said helplessly, standing up to face his wife.

“Then why do you say things like that?” Liz whispered hoarsely. She knew she was overreacting but the strange, almost premonition-like foreboding had set her more on edge than normal. She just couldn’t seem to shake the remembrance of waking up to the knowledge that he was dead, and then stumbling under the sheer weight of his absence when she understood that she was completely alone. “I need you, don’t you get that?” she said brokenly, wondering at her own tears. “You can’t just say stuff like that and expect me to be ok with it. This family means everything to me too, and you’re part of that. Remember?”

Max nodded, Liz’s tears raising his protective hackles even more. “I know.” He said gently, pulling her back into his arms. He took a deep breath when she finally relaxed against him, though he could still feel the shadow of her fear and the strange nagging prickling of an omen. “I need you too. Like we said, we’re stuck with each other.”

“Damn straight.” Liz muttered. “Promise me you won’t die.” She demanded suddenly, surprising even herself.

Max blinked. “Liz, I…”

“Promise me, Max. Promise me that we’re going to grow old together.”

“We sure will, if I’m never going to die.” Max tried to tease, wanting to lighten the dark weight pressing in on her soul.

Liz rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. And I’m serious.”

“I know.” Max acknowledged. He stared down into his wife’s tear brightened eyes and nodded. “ I promise. You and me, for the rest of our life. And every one after that if I have anything to say about it.” he vowed solemnly.




*********Part 71*************

Steadying the camcorder in his hand, Max smiled at the people on the viewscreen, utterly fascinated by the scene of domestic tranquility playing out in front of him. Ten minutes ago Xan had been bitterly protesting the indignity of sitting in the baby swing, but now he was clinging to the bar across his lap urging Liz to push him higher. Shaking his head, Max checked the blinking red light yet again to ensure that he was still recording.

“Highewr, Mom, I wanna go highewr!”

Mom. Max looked up, blinking against the late afternoon sun at a gilded vision of perfection. He could feel the joy behind Liz’s laughter even as it trilled through the air, blending seamlessly with Xan’s breathless screams of mirth. Their carefree delight brought a smile to his own face, and he found himself laughing along with them. His wife and his son…their son. Only it wasn’t a fairytale, or even some desperate fantasy he’d never allowed himself to acknowledge. It was real.

“Mo-om…”

“You’re going plenty high enough,” Liz replied, hiding her smile when Xan sent a practiced pout over his shoulder. “Forget it,” she told the little boy. “I don’t want you going over the top.”

“You can go ovewr da top?” Xan called back, considering the sturdy metal rod at the top of the swing-set.

Max gave a soft snort of laughter and refocused the camera. Xan was in no danger of flipping the top, but if the look on his intrepid son’s face was any indication he was going to give it his best try.

“No, you can’t go over the top,” Liz told him with a grin.

“Pleeease?” Xan begged.

Liz ignored the request, giving Xan another push before she looked over to share a bemused glance with Max, or rather, the camcorder. She rolled her eyes at her husband. “Are you planning to record every minute of every day for the rest of our life?” she questioned.

Max grinned, zooming in on the soft contours of Liz’s face. “Not every minute,” he teased. “There’re a few I think we can probably keep to ourselves.”

“Max!” Liz hissed, nodding pointedly at Xan.

“Liz!” Max mimicked, heading for the swing-set, and smiling over the delightful color staining his wife’s cheeks.

“Dad, I wanna go highewr,” Xan announced, casting a pleading glance in his father’s direction.

Max grinned, unable to hide the simple pleasure he always felt when Xan called him “Dad.” He knew he’d never tire of hearing it, or feeling it in the way Xan reached just for him.

Xan grinned back at his father, pretty sure he was about to gain an ally. “Let Mom take da pictuwres, an’ den you can push,” he suggested.

“You’ve got it all figured out, huh, pal?” Max asked, mirroring Xan’s serious nod. “Sorry, but if I push you over the top of this thing your mother will blast me into tomorrow.” Your mother. It was amazing how easily two words he’d never even wanted to think about suddenly tripped so easily off his tongue, amazing how much they now meant to him.

“I tought we couldn’ do dat ou’side,” Xan countered.

Max nodded. It still felt vaguely surreal, the easy routine they’d fallen into over the last couple of weeks, and so much like a dream he was half afraid of waking up. Except, the constant, gentle thrum of his connection to his son kept reminding him he was already awake.

“Dad?”

Max cleared his throat, grateful that the few parents and children lingering into the dusk didn’t appear to be taking any notice of their conversation. “That’s right, we don’t do that outside. I just meant that I’d be in the doghouse,” he clarified.

“But we don’ got a doghouse,” Xan said, his brow drawing together. “Owr even a dog.”

“It’s a figure of speech, sweetie,” Liz supplied, shaking her head. “He just means I’d be mad.”

“He coulda said dat,” Xan grumbled. How come adults were always using figures of speech? It’d be much easier if they just said what they meant.

Max bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep a straight face as he focused the camera on Xan’s disgruntled expression. “Sorry pal,” he said, glancing up at his son and trying to hold the camera steady at the same time. “Do you want me to push you some more?”

Xan shrugged, easily accepting his father’s peace offering. “Nuh-uh. I’m done swingin’, I wanna twy da mewwy-go-wound now. Please?” he added in response to his parents’ joint look.

Liz cast a teasing glance over her shoulder, already relaxing back into the warmth of Max’s body. “Were you this difficult when you were…”

“Four?” Max interrupted with a laugh. He shook his head, wrapping his free arm around Liz’s waist while Xan twisted in his seat so that he could see them both. “I was never four,” he reminded her, finally lowering the camcorder so he could lean in close to her ear.

Xan gagged dramatically as his parents drifted closer together. “Yowr not gonna kiss ’gain awre you?” he asked in disgust.

Max closed his eyes as Liz muffled her giggle against his throat. They were more than grateful that Xan was learning to sleep in his own bed, but that, they’d soon realized, was only half the battle. Knocking, he decided wryly, was going to be even more difficult to teach Xan. Not that he could really complain. Xan’s newfound security had given all of them a much-needed moment to breathe, and he was thrilled that his son felt comfortable enough to sleep in his own bed and then come find them if he had a bad dream. Still…knocking had become almost as important, if only for his peace of mind.

Liz shrugged at her son and leaned into Max’s embrace. “We’re thinking about it,” she told Xan, laughing at his disgruntled expression.

Xan sighed, swinging his legs impatiently. “Wha’ ‘bout da mewwy-go-wound?” he reminded them impatiently.

Max dropped a quick kiss on his wife’s lips and then handed her the camera. “Can’t forget the merry-go-round,” he murmured with a grin. He caught Xan, lifting him from the swing before he could topple out of it and then set him on the ground, unsurprised when his son took off for the new ride. He shook his head, aside from the occasional glance back to make sure he and Liz were still behind him, Xan moved with complete confidence. Even the gentle hum of their connection bespoke an easy contentment, a child’s certainty that he was home and safe with his parents. Max sighed. Home and safe.

Liz bit her lip, hiding her smile as she turned the tables on Max and raised the camera to record his surprisingly awed expression. “What are you thinking, Max Evans?” she asked lightly “Inquiring minds want to know.”

Max blinked and turned to Liz, grimacing at the camera as he shrugged. “I’m thinking that I must be insane,” he told his wife wryly.

Liz giggled. “Insane? Why insane?”

Max shrugged helplessly. “Because the US government is still hunting us down like we’re America’s Most Wanted, because we can’t even live out in the open under our real names…”

“Max…” Liz breathed out, uncertain where he was headed with this. Lowering the camera, she reached for his hand, squeezing his strong fingers gently. The deep thread of contented joy that was currently coloring their connection seemed strangely out of place, considering what he was saying.

“Because I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow,” Max continued softly, clinging to Liz’s hand. “I have no idea how I’m going to keep Xan and you safe and because even with all that… Liz, I’ve never been happier in my life,” he admitted solemnly. “I never even imagined… I never even thought this could be possible and now…” Max took a deep breath and wrapped an arm around Liz’s shoulders, pulling her close. “Now I don’t think I could ever live without it,” he finished softly.

“Max, you won’t have to,” Liz averred softly. “This is real. Xan and I aren’t going anywhere.”

“Damn right you’re not,” Max muttered gruffly. “It’s just…as perfect as this is, I know I have to do better.”

Liz shook her head, the small sliver of dread chilling the last of the sunlight still spilling around them. “Max, you promised…”

“I know, and I’m not breaking that promise,” Max soothed quickly. “I just want you to know that we won’t always have to live like this.” He shrugged wryly. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do it, but one day we won’t have to look over our shoulders. We’ll have a house and a yard and…”

“A normal life?” Liz asked softly. She swallowed hard, feeling the almost desperate sincerity behind his promise. “Max, I want that with you, you know I do. I want Xan to grow up safe and I want to be able to go to sleep at night without worrying that someone is going to take you away from me, but…” She took a deep breath, willing her sincerity across their connection, willing the coldness from her soul. “If this is how we have to live, this is how we have to live. We’re together. We’re a family. That’s what Xan and I need. Please believe that. Please.”

Max held Liz’s shining gaze. “I do,” he whispered reverently, almost surprised to realize that he did.

“We deserve this, Max,” Liz whispered fervently. “We deserve to be happy.” When was he going to realize that, she wondered?

Max nodded, letting himself get lost in the eyes that had always echoed his soul and found he couldn’t argue with her.
They’d paid for this happiness, paid dearly. And he’d be damned if he let it slip away.

“Dad, Dad, c’mewre…” Xan shouted, climbing onto the merry-go-round and catching one of the metal struts for balance.

Max smiled wryly. “Duty calls,” he said with one last kiss.

Liz smiled, relaxing into Max’s good mood. “You love it and you know it,” she retorted.

“Yeah, I do.”

Xan waited impatiently until his father was standing in front of him and then reached up to be held. He leaned forward, bracing himself against his father’s strong shoulders. “I wanna go weally, weally fast, like last time. Maybe jus’ a little bit a powewr,” he hinted in a soft whisper, nose to nose with his dad.

“Last time?” Liz asked as she caught up with Max and Xan.

“It wasn’t really that fast,” Max replied dismissively. He could tell by the skeptical look on Liz’s face that she was less than inclined to believe him.

Xan looked at his father askance. “Uh-huh,” he contradicted, not wanting his dad to feel like he hadn’t done a good job. “Was weally, weally fast, Mom. But don’ wowwy,” he added holding up a hand to halt his mother’s concern. “Dad did it all witout glowin’.”

Max covered Xan’s mouth quickly before his son could help anymore. “It was completely safe, Liz.”

Liz nodded with sham solemnity. “As long as there was no glowing.” She could hardly keep a straight face at the identically relieved nods both her guys gave her. “Let’s try out this merry-go-round.”

Moments later Liz was making a mental note to tell Max that, glowing or no, this was way too fast for a four-year-old. And more fun than she remembered. She held Xan tighter against her and clung to the railing. The little boy’s laughter was infectious and she found herself giggling along with him, enjoying the sheer freedom of the wind. This was way more fun than she remembered.

Max stepped back, letting the merry-go-round continue to spin. Unable to stop the impulse, he grabbed the camera from the ground and focused on his family, needing to capture the moment before him. Liz and Xan were laughing hysterically, Xan clinging to her neck as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back into the wind. And Liz was radiant in the sunlight, laughing and happy as if her world couldn’t come crashing down at any moment. As if she trusted him to keep her, to keep them safe. He lowered the camera. She did, she trusted him completely, just as Xan did.

“Dad!” Xan called, reaching out his free hand and grabbing for his father as they flew past. “Come on, is fun!”

“Yeah, Max, is fun,” Liz teased, holding out her hand.

Max laughed. Real, he reminded himself. His family was real, and they were waiting for him. He turned the camcorder off, certain he’d remember every detail of this day for the rest of his life. And a million other details, because there’d be a million other moments like this, he vowed silently. He put the camera down and jumped onto the merry go round, wrapping himself around his wife and son.

“See?” Xan asked, taking advantage of his father’s grip to stand up between the metal struts.

“I see, pal. This is lots of fun,” Max admitted with a grin.

Liz smiled, reading Xan’s expression before he even opened his mouth. “I think we need a little more…” Liz trailed off, waving her fingers in front of Max’s face.

Prodding his father’s shoulder, Xan hinted. “We’wre stawrtin’ ta slow down…is mowre fun if is fast.”

Max laughed. “Ok, I can take a hint.” Palm flat against metal floor, he spun them faster, laughing for the first time in his life simply because he felt like it.



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



Toweling her wet hair, Liz shuffled into the living room and looked from the stack of clean dishes in the drainer to her husband who was laid out on the couch. “I thought you were gonna put those away while I was in the shower.”

Max groaned. “I was gonna, but then I had to put Xan back to bed.”

“And after that?”

“The couch was calling me.”

“Calling you,” Liz echoed skeptically

“Yeah.” Max nodded his sincerity, eyes firmly closed. “It’s an alien thing, I doubt you’d be able to hear it.”

Liz let out a snort of laughter. “Uh-huh. It’s still you’re turn.”

“Slavedriver,” Max said with a smile.

Standing over her husband, Liz tried a different tack. “Poor baby. I didn’t realize you were so out of shape. I guess I’m going to have to explain to Xan that his father can’t go out and play very often because his father is old and tired and…” Success. She raised her brows in challenge when Max opened his eyes to glower at her.

“I resent that,” Max muttered, swinging his feet over the edge of the couch.

“Need some help, old man?” Liz asked innocently, holding a teasing hand out to her husband.

Her fingers brushed briefly against Max’s before losing their grip, before he slipped away, before she felt the crushing weight of terror. Grief.

“No! Max, you promised, please…”

“Xan’s waiting.”

“Liz, come on, Xan needs his mother.”

“Max…”

She was clinging to Xan, weeping silently, her tears falling into his soft hair as he slept against her chest, his hand clutching her t-shirt as they raced through the night. Running, always running. Leaving Max behind.

The voices were familiar, as was the feeling that surrounded her. She’d never forget what it felt like to lose him, never forget…

Liz sucked in a frantic breath, clinging to her husband’s presence across their connection and struggling against her unreasonable panic.

“What’s the matter?” Max demanded, pulling Liz into his arms.

“I…I don’t know,” Liz whispered helplessly, pressing against his strong frame.

“Was it a premonition?” Max asked, gently stroking his wife’s hair, drying it as he went. He kissed the top of her head softly, soothing her. “Liz?”

He’s fine, Liz told herself. Everything was ok. Max was fine, she could feel it across their connection and she could feel it in the strength of the heartbeat pounding against her cheek. She raised her troubled eyes to his. “I don’t know,” she repeated.

“Mom?” Xan queried, padding from his room into the living room. He studied his parents through half closed lids, wondering why they were hugging his heart so hard. “Dad?”

“It’s ok, pal.” Max guided Liz to the couch, cupping her cheek gently for a brief moment and then reached for Xan, pulling him into his arms just as a knock sounded at the front door. Already on edge, he felt the protective rush of power and adrenaline as he confronted the closed door. He settled Xan in Liz’s waiting arms, wondering who the hell would be knocking at this hour.

Liz nodded at Max, dropping a soothing kiss on the top of Xan’s head as she stood up, gathering her power just in case. Her brows drew together when Max looked through the peephole and shook his head, his features relaxing, his soul still tense. “Who is it?”

Max took a deep breath and then met his wife’s stark gaze. “Langley.”

Ok, so when I said a couple days ya'll knew I meant um, like...today, right?

Well, I'm back! And (now don't anybody faint or anything) I even brought a new part.

Sorry this took so long to get out there guys, and thanks for all the encouragement and bumps that let me know ya'll were still looking for this one even after...yeah. Let's not go there.

Will get back to fb next time but - luvya - welcome! I'm always surprised to see a new face on this one because it's so long.

Anyhoo - this is finally to a place where I'm ok with it, hopefully it was worth the wait.

See ya'll soon. Really. I've got some of the next part written already...

Pathos

PS - added a little reminder from part 12. The New Part 72 is below it.


**************From Part 12***************

“Project: Missing Link was designed to map the evolution of the human brain. The missing link they’re actually looking for is the gene, or the hormone, or whatever it is that triggers the so called sixth sense in some human beings. The project studies people who are psychic in some way.”

“Why?” Liz interrupted.

Langley shook his head. “Use your imagination. Think about what the military could do if they could trigger say…Michael’s power. Imagine a unit that could blow things up without weapons.” He saw Liz nod thoughtfully and continued. “Xan is the youngest telekinetic that they’ve found. They came all over themselves when they realized that they’d have almost a full human life span to study the kid, to watch his ability grow. See how his brain develops.”

“Yeah, thanks for that image but they have to have realized by now that Xan isn’t human. Studying him won’t give them any answers.” Liz reasoned.

Langley looked from the road to stare quizzically at Liz. The gaps in their knowledge always amazed him. “Who said Xan wasn’t human?”

“No one.” Liz answered in surprise. “In fact Tess claimed that he was completely human. She said that’s why Khivar rejected him.” Her mind raced as it tried work out the seeming conundrum.

Langley snorted. “Khivar didn’t want him up there because a legitimate heir to the throne was as much a threat to his position as Max is.”

“That makes no sense. Why make the stupid deal with Nasedo to begin with if an heir would be a threat?” Liz asked in sudden frustration. The stress of what she was about to do coupled with the stress Max was feeling because of what she was about to do, was making her incredibly irritable.

Langley shook his head. “You people really suck at this, don’t you? Always give yourself a man, or in this case a woman, on the inside.” He advised sarcastically. “If Tess had succeeded in getting everyone back on Antar, Khivar would have held them all for public execution, Xan and Tess included. That’s rule number one of being a tyrant – never be afraid to betray an ally.”

“Ok, so how did she escape if Khivar was planning to execute her?” Liz challenged. Langley was never this open with information, she was determined to get what she could. Of course, this could all be the script for his next movie…though it did lack his usual sense of drama.

Langley glanced sideways at Liz, wanting to enjoy her reaction to his next statement. “Tess could play the game. Out of all of you, she was the smartest. She contacted the Royalists before Khivar knew she was coming in for a landing. As a compromise they demanded Xan be recognized as Khivar’s successor. After 60 some odd years of fighting Khivar didn’t have the resources to face the battle that would have ensued if he said no. He had nothing to lose by keeping the kid under his thumb. Plus it shut the Royalists up.” He was disappointed. His Queen simply raised a brow and stared at him coldly.

“Tess wasn’t that smart. She ended up back here. And dead.” Liz pointed out as she felt her blood boil. Why Langley went out of his way to bait both her and Max she didn’t know. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was just waiting for some hidden technicality that would allow him to ignore his genetic programming and betray Max.

Langley acknowledged the point scored with a sarcastic nod of his head. “Yeah well, Khivar couldn’t just execute them and wait for another uprising. He just made certain she and that baby were in the way for every ‘accident’ that happened in the palace. He would have gotten them eventually.”

“Why wouldn’t she just go to the Royalists?”

“Because Khivar has been playing this game since long before her cute little ass was hatched. He made sure that word of her betrayal of the King reached the right ears. Xan, as the heir would have been spared, but treason is still punishable by death. And the Royalists would have seen that punishment carried out.” Langley smiled slyly, enjoying the frustrated confusion that was stamped on Liz’s face. So important, their little lives and they didn’t know one damn thing! He was suddenly angry.

“But she was the Queen…”

“No.” Langley continued in a tone of voice that implied Liz was a small child unable to grasp a fairly basic concept. “She was his bride. Her position would only be acknowledged and accepted as long as she were married to the King. That didn’t happen. And even if it did, trying to kill him would have negated the marriage contract and all her rights to the throne. Xan had the blood. She had nothing.”


%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Why haven’t you ever told us any of this? And how do you even know what happened on Antar? Why are you telling me this now?” Liz demanded in quiet anger. For some reason she wanted to discount this whole conversation.

“I’ve been in contact with Antar from the beginning, my captivity notwithstanding. And it wasn’t my job to tell anyone. If Max wanted to know he should have asked. It’s not my fault that the teachers were killed in the crash. My job is to protect you, that’s it! That’s all you get, Majesty.” Langley said harshly, his anger over that fact clear in his voice and his borrowed face. “And as for ‘why now’? You asked.”


***************Part 72*****************

Langley stared silently at the paint peeling away from the Evans front door and took a deep breath, unsettled by the nervous anticipation currently eating a hole through his stomach lining. Butterflies, he’d always heard. Wasn’t that what humans got fluttering through their stomachs when they were nervous? Butterflies, my ass, Langley huffed silently. 747’s more like it. He shook his head, forcibly stilling his anxious shifting. For Christ’s sake, he was a grown man, the King’s own Protector, not some baby fine P’aeteria who’d never defended a charge before. He could do this.

He had to do this.

Reaching out to run a finger along the warped wood frame, he paused to give Max credit for the skill that had reinforced the structure without making it look out of place. He’d learned, Langley acknowledged gruffly, learned to protect himself and his family even without his help. They all had.

But what was coming was so far beyond this small attempt to hide in plain sight, so far beyond the Special Unit, so much more…

Langley took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders defiantly. There was no preparation, wasn’t that what Zan had always said? Turns out he was right. Langley sighed. It wasn’t something he had the luxury of worrying about right this moment, there’d be time enough for that later, if all went well.. Right this moment he had to convince them to go along with this plan.

Right, said the whispering voice in his head. The plan that will get you court-martialed and exiled. If you’re lucky. It paused in brief consideration. Probably executed, it decided, considering Antarian custom and law. Not to mention common sense.

Langley’s shoulder’s sagged. Jesus, why couldn’t they just open the fucking door so he could get this the hell over with?

Perhaps you should rethink…

And why couldn’t he seem to control the damn voice that kept echoing through his head? It was his fucking head, after all. It ought to know that there was no time rethink. And there was no choice, not anymore.

And who’s fault is that, the voice snarked.

Who’s side are you on, anyway, he wondered caustically. The silence only reinforced what he already knew. It was his own damn fault. Exhaling a rough sigh, Langley found that not even his considerable bitterness could overwhelm the sudden guilt. If only he’d done his job from the beginning. If only he’d protected The King with the loyalty owed to his position

If only, if only, if only…

The words echoed softly through his conscience, hammering home his own culpability. If only he could get that goddamned voice to shut up. If only he could scrape together the balls to turn around and leave them to their destiny. If only he could ignore the tightening hold of The Imperative, the grasp that was already simmering under his skin, bucking angrily against a plan yet to be put into motion.

If only…if only he could think of another way to do this.

It is your duty. There is no other way.

By the Fates! Make up your mind, Langley growled, glaring a hole through Max’s reinforced door. He’d spent years losing his conscience only to have his meddling, Pollyanna Queen go and find it again. And now, in the best tradition of dead weight, it refused to be jettisoned. When this was all over, he promised himself weakly. When this was all over that overrated sense of self was the first thing to go.

His conscience snorted in his face.

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

“Are you going to open the door?”

Max took a deep breath. He supposed ‘no’ was the wrong answer. The cowardly answer, anyway. The one he knew he didn’t have the luxury of making. “Yeah, I just…” don’t want this to end. Liz smiled softly and he saw the reflection of his own longing in her heart, just as he heard her reply as clearly as if she’d spoken it.

We cherish the moments we’ve had and look forward to the one’s we will have.

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the door knob as their wedding vows echoed through his mind. They’d used the traditional pledge except for that one addition, the promise to never take each other for granted, to always live the moment they were in, love within that moment.

He saw it now for the lamentable concession to their circumstances that it was. And maybe that’s why it wasn’t enough anymore.

“Max…”

Right. Max pulled the door open and ushered Langley quickly inside, taking a moment to assure himself that no one was waiting in the shadows of the hall to attack. “What happened?” he asked quietly, a glance at Xan’s worried features reminding him that he needed to stay calm so that Xan didn’t panic. He forced a reassuring smile and reached out for his son, telling him silently that everything was going to be ok.

“What took you so long?” Langley replied testily, quickly pacing the perimeter of the apartment before shouldering Liz away from the open window. Satisfied, the Imperative retreated to its dormant buzz and he snorted out a disgusted breath. That was the second thing he was getting rid of. Somehow.

Max shook his head, his narrowed eyes finally pinning Langley in one place as he felt Liz’s anxiety spike in response to the shapeshifter’s proactive, and uncharacteristic, show of protection. He moved to her side and took her hand, taking his own comfort from the fact that there was nothing of the chaotic rush that normally accompanied their flight from the Special Unit. But if nothing was wrong…why was he here? “Langley,” he warned darkly. “Cut the drama and tell me what happened.”

Langley blinked, startled by the edge of authority in Max’s voice. His orders always came with the slightest hint of apology, a greater insult than the command, really. But not this time. He studied Max more closely, arrested by the sudden thought that he’d missed something. Big. “Nothing,” Langley replied, spurred to speech by the King’s clear impatience.

“Nothing?” Max echoed impatiently. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I’m your protector. It’s my job, remember?” Langley muttered snidely, chafing under Max’s strange new authority. An old bitterness warned against trusting it, but the beginning of a new respect was already molding along the Imperative, hinting at the desire to bow before it. He gritted his teeth. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

Max nodded, crossing his arms against his chest as he stepped in front of Liz, his concern only growing the longer Langley stalled. He needed to keep his family safe and he wasn’t in the mood to play their usual game. “Why don’t you start with why you’re here,” he suggested smoothly.

Almost against his will, Langley felt his body drawn to attention before his King. He shook his head, long dead instincts flaring back to life as he watched Max split his attention between the door, himself, and the occasional glance out the window. It was more than the fact that he seemed to be expecting an attack. He seemed almost…ready for it. “I…there’s something we need to discuss,” Langley hedged, turning away from Max’s glare only to find himself confronting Liz’s angry features. “It’s nothing bad,” he lied baldly.

“Momma?” Xan whispered, his voice small and worried. He could feel his parents trying to soothe him, gently telling him that everything was ok, but…he glanced at his father again and then buried his face against his mother’s neck. Everything didn’t seem ok. “Who dat?”

A friend? An enemy? Our early warning system? Liz met her husband’s eyes for a brief moment and then looked down at Xan. “Um, company, sweetie. Mr. Langley is…company.”

“We’ll discuss your ‘something’ in a minute,” Max told Langley, holding his gaze a moment longer to make sure the order was clear even through his polite phrasing. He took a deliberate breath and swallowed his temper before he looked at his son. “You are up way past your bedtime, pal,” he began with forced cheerfulness.

Xan lifted his head to eye his father crossly. He didn’t want to go back to sleep, but at least this was a familiar argument. “I was ‘sleep,” he pointed out. “You guys woke me up.”

“We’re sorry about that, sweetie,” Liz replied quietly, reaching out to help Max soothe Xan, each of them gently trying to lull him back to sleep, reminding him he was safe. She swallowed hard, her fingers reaching up to brush the hair back from Xan’s eyes as she lightly guided his head back to her shoulder.

“Me too, pal,” Max added, watching Xan absently twist one long lock of Liz’s hair around and around his fingers, his eyelids drifting to half-mast as he stifled a yawn.

Xan shrugged. “S’ok. I’m not…not…tiwred,” he asserted around his yawn.

Max nodded seriously. “I know. But it’s time for all good boys to go back to bed now, anyway.”

Oh. Xan blinked heavily. Sometimes it was no fun being good. Letting out a put upon sigh he regarded his father. “Kay, but good boys get one mowre stowry, wight?”

Liz couldn’t help her small smile. “Of course,” she whispered, following Max towards Xan’s bedroom. She was grateful that Langley remained in the living room. Both she and Max had known their little respite would end, but somehow, this sudden return to reality had shaken both of them. “Ok, sweetie, get under the covers,” she said, standing Xan on the plane bed.

Xan lay down and pulled the sheet up. “Wit me,” he ordered his parents, sensing the thick emotion that was drawing them all closer together. He smiled, happily snuggling down into bed when they sat down on either side of him. “What you guys wanna wead?” he asked magnanimously.

Liz smiled, her soul heavy in spite of Xan’s sleepy grin. This was so…normal, so right. It wasn’t too much to ask, was it, to be able to live with her family in peace? To be able to raise their son without having to worry about… She took a deep breath. Please, she prayed fiercely, please don’t take this away.

Max swallowed hard and glanced down at The Sleep Book, resting closed in his lap. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t just pretend that everything was still ok. He didn’t know how they’d moved so quickly beyond the simple act of reading Xan a bed time story, but he supposed it didn’t matter. They had. His son deserved so much more than this uncertain life. He slowly put the book aside. But at the very least he deserved the truth. “What do you think about going on a little trip?” he asked Xan.

“Twip?” Xan asked, slowly worrying the cotton sheet between his fingers. “Whewre?”

Liz opened her mouth and then closed it again. The last shadow of normalcy fell away and she nodded her agreement with Max. They’d promised never to lie to Xan and they couldn’t simply ignore their normal, she acknowledged sorrowfully. She sifted her fingers gently through Xan’s hair, forcing a smile when he turned his wide, innocent eyes to her. He’d been through so much already and now…

“Well, sweetie, we haven’t decided yet,” Liz told him softly.

Xan stilled, sleep falling away as he fought to understand his parent’s sudden seriousness. This was different from before. They were still holding tightly to his heart but now there was something else within their connection, something he didn’t quite understand. “But…we’re goin’?” He waited for his father’s nod and then continued, his nose wrinkling in confusion. “Like on a ‘cation?”

Max took a deep breath, hating the anxiety he could feel overtaking his son. “No, pal, not like a vacation. To live.” He met his wife’s eyes. Xan wasn’t the only one who deserved more than this. Liz deserved so much more. God, after all this, didn’t they all? He shook his head, forcing his bitterness to the back of his mind as Xan’s uncertainty grew. He refused to taint their connection and worry his son more than he already had.

Xan shook his head. “But…I don’ wanna go nowhewre else!” he burst out, unable to explain his sudden panic even though he could feel that his parents didn’t really understand. “I don’ wanna go ‘way,” he whispered desperately, clinging tightly to their connection.

Max nodded miserably. He couldn’t blame Xan for not wanting to leave, he’d only just settled in. But what else could they do? “I know you don’t want to go, pal, but…”

It’s time to go, baby. The voice echoed coldly through Xan’s fear, bringing with it strange, blurred memories of bright lights and dark shadows. Pain. Things he couldn’t seem to shake. Or understand. “No!” Xan shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m not gonna go,” he told his parents mutinously but his bravado faded quickly. “Please? I’ll be good,” he pleaded.

Max’s brows furrowed in surprise at Xan’s fervent promise. “We know you’re good,” he assured his son, even more confused when that did nothing to ease Xan’s rising dread.

Liz felt her breath catch painfully in her throat, Xan’s rolling panic making sudden, heartbreaking sense. Oh, God, he really thought... “Sweetheart, no. We’re not sending you away,” she explained quickly, cuddling him closer to her side. “We didn’t mean that you were going away by yourself. Sweetie, you’re coming with us.”

Xan nodded silently, breathing more easily as his parents rushed to assure him that he’d never be sent away.

Idiot! Max shook his head, silently berating himself for scaring Xan to death as he gently wiped the moisture from his son’s cheeks. “We’d never send you away, Xan. Never.”

Biting his lip, Xan looked from his father’s open, honest gaze to his mother’s soft eyes. “I know,” he said uncertainly. He knew they were telling him the truth, he could feel it warm against his heart and he exhaled a relieved breath while he let them soothe his worry. But he was still confused. “So yowr comin’ wit, wight?” he clarified sheepishly.

“Of course we are, sweetheart,” Liz whispered thickly. “Daddy’s right, we’d never leave you behind.”

Xan nodded, relaxing enough to bask in the love that was easily pushing the frightening shadows to the back of his mind.

“Xan, we’re a family. We always stick together. I promise, ok?” Max waited for his son’s nod, cupping his face gently as he held the boy’s gaze. “I missed you so much when you were gone, pal. I could never let you go again,” he told him solemnly

“Not evewr, wight?” Xan already knew the answer, he could feel it in the easy certainty drifting across the connection from both his parents. He’d been silly to be worried in the first place, he realized, letting them know he understood.

Liz relaxed along with her son. “Of course not ever,” she said lightly. “Family never goes away.”

“I know.” Xan smiled happily and, reassured of his own importance, moved on to his next concern. “But wha’ ‘bout my plane…can we bwing dat?”

Liz blinked, amazed and relieved by Xan’s dizzying shift in focus.

“An’ my books,” he added quickly.

His books and his plane… Max shook his head, allowing himself a deep breath as Xan’s security and good humor were restored. He let out a dramatically put-upon sigh. “Do you really think we’d forget your plane or your books?” he asked, needing to hear Xan’s laughter to make up for causing his tears. “What kind of parents would we be if we forgot those?”

“Bad,” Xan answered promptly, hiding a grin at his father’s mock-outraged expression.

“Oh really?” Max asked, brows raised in exaggerated offense as he considered his son. “For that I think I’m going to tickle you to sleep.”

“Nuh-uh.” Xan shook his head, already twisting closer to his mother to get away from the tickling. “MOM!”

Max shook his head. “You just called your mom a bad parent,” he pointed out dryly. “I think she’s on my side.”

“I was teasin’,” Xan replied between giggles. “You know dat.”

Max stopped his tickling, pulling Xan against his heart and hugging him tightly. “I know, pal,” he whispered, his chest tightening with a fierce rush of emotion.

Liz bit her lip, feeling Max’s emotions shift from a relieved amusement to a sober desperation. She was as comforted as he was by Xan’s easy laughter. And as worried about their always precarious future. Maybe more so. Sighing, she looked up, surprised to find Langley’s hooded gaze studying them from the doorway. Recognizing that Max needed some more time, she gently kissed the top of Xan’s head and then moved towards the shapeshifter, intent on getting what answers she could.

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

“Well?” Langley asked, coming to a halt in the middle of the living room and turning to confront his Queen. He’d recognized Liz’s determined expression immediately and if he didn’t get control of this conversation he knew he was screwed. “I called the others,” he mentioned, hoping to sway her attention. But she only offered a noncommittal nod in reply.

His Queen doesn’t trust him, which doesn’t surprise him. The distressing remorse he feels over that fact…does.

“Why are you here?”

How could he be unprepared for that question when he’d flown all the way from LA to answer it? “I wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly,” Langley improvised quickly. At Liz’s incredulous look he shrugged, attempting innocence. “It’s my job to care,” he reminded her, watching her eyes narrow in growing suspicion. Not that he could blame her. He wasn’t buying it either.

“It’s good, the way the bond has progressed,” Langley blurted when the silence became too heavy, beginning to babble when she didn’t immediately reply. “I mean, the kid deserves a real mother not some wanna-be whose only use for him was as a shield.

Liz sighed, her brows drawing together over the abrupt non-sequitor. She was well aware of the fact that Langley was trying to turn her attention. And all too aware that he’d chosen the one topic that was sure to do it. “Now what are you talking about?” she asked, giving in ungraciously.

“The Eashance,” he replied, shaking his head at her blank stare. “You have completed the Eashance…haven’t you?” Langley asked, a vague uncertainty growing as he wondered if he’d completely misread their closeness.

“Eashance?”

“The Acceptance…” Langley let out an exasperated sigh over Liz’s continued incomprehension. Fabulous. He felt the rough edge of guilt and heard a disgusted voice, which sounded remarkably like his conscience, telling him he should have overseen the adoption. But for Christ’s sake, they were halfway there on the base. And he wasn’t Dr. Spock!

“The Acceptance?” Liz repeated in quiet exasperation.

“Er, it’s just a…fancy title for the adoption of an orphan.”

“Adoption? Orphan?” Liz knew her voice was rising in pitch, reminding her uncomfortably of her sister in law. But more than that she wondered why she couldn’t seem to stop repeating what he said. Forcing in a deep breath she tried to pull her muddled thoughts together. An exercise in futility, her suspicious common sense reminded her. No matter what she did, she’d never get anywhere with Langley.

“Xan’s not an orphan,” Liz finally pointed out, unable to remain silent.

“Well, no. Not exactly.”

Liz’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘not exactly’?”

Langley paused, wishing fervently that he’d never started down this road in the first place. He would have been better off just announcing his plan. Frustrated, by his inability to focus, he found himself explaining. “Orphans are defined a bit differently on Antar. The biological connection between a parent and a child can never be taken for granted, it must be maintained,” he shrugged eloquently. “That’s not normally a problem, but in rare cases…when it’s not maintained…”

“Maintained? Langley, Jesus Christ just tell me what you’re talking about,” Liz ordered in frustration. “What do you mean Xan was adopted? What is this…Ech…”

“Eashance.”

“Yes,” Liz nodded quickly. “Eashance.” The word felt clumsy in her mouth. “What is that?”

“On Antar, when a parent is considered unfit and the biological bond has been eroded it can be replaced. The parent is replaced and the bonding process…that is Eashance. Acceptance.”

“Xan’s not an orphan. Stop saying that he is,” Liz bit out tightly, a strange fear beginning to steal through her soul. “Are you saying someone could just replace…” me. Her heart skipped a painful beat at the thought.

Clearing his throat against the unfamiliar tightness cramping his stomach, Langley rushed to remove the vulnerability from Liz’s expression. He was more comfortable with her damn high-handed attitude, he told himself. “No. No one can replace you. It’s only possible to replace a bond that has been broken,” he told her softly.

Liz swallowed hard against a rush of guilt. “Like the way it broke when…when Tess died.”

Langley snorted. “That bond was broken before Xan even left Antar,” he muttered in disgust.

“I don’t understand.” Liz shook her head. “How could it have broken before…”

“The bond with Tess eroded quickly and Max was too far away to help when she…” Langley looked away uncomfortably, seeking the right words. “Xan couldn’t trust her. When he reached for her, when he needed her to save him from…”He fell silent, Liz’s devastated expression told him there was no right way to tell a mother her child had been tortured. He shook his head quickly. “It’s in the past. The Eashance, the acceptance into your heart has been complete so it doesn’t matter.

But it did. “What did she…” Liz broke off, swallowing her tears as she remembered those few times she’d seen Max completely consumed by Xan’s fear. She hadn’t understood then, but now she found herself overwhelmed by the thought of her baby alone on some strange planet with…someone he couldn’t trust. “What did she do to him?” She demanded, forcing the words past the clog in her throat. “He was just a baby. She was supposed to be his mother!”

Langley nodded. “Like all children, he was born trusting that she would protect him.” He looked away, reproach eating through the rationalization that had kept him moored to the planet while Xan’s existence was exploited. “In her own way, maybe she did. She kept him alive.” He shook his head, refusing to buy his own attempt at comfort, and completely unable to lie to his Queen. Not when she turned eyes so trusting on him. It was the first time she’d ever trusted him to tell the truth.

“That baby was her shield. Xan’s the Royal Heir, the only thing she had to use as a bargaining chip and her existence depended on what she could do for Khivar…what she could get Xan to do for Khivar,” Langley finished bitterly. By the Fates what had Zan’s house fallen to? All that had been entrusted to him…the Royal Family lived, but still he’d failed.

“I don’t…”

“Understand. Of course you don’t,” Langley muttered. “The Granolith’s power is accessed through the Royal Seal. Max’s, Xan’s…yours.” He shook his head, ignoring Liz’s widened eyes. They knew nothing. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would mean their downfall. Worry about it later, he told himself. “Tess let Khivar use Xan’s Seal to try to harness the Granolith’s power, but he was too young, too small. It was too much. Honestly, I’m amazed he survived their first attempt. Much less the other two.”

“How could she let them do that?” Liz whispered, hating Tess even more. And she hadn’t thought that was possible.

Langley shrugged, disgusted by the fact that he could understand Tess’s actions all too easily. “She was cornered and he was her way out. She…”

“She didn’t deserve him,” Liz interrupted fiercely. “I would never let anyone hurt him, no matter how cornered I was.”

Langley looked away. “I know,” he assured her quietly. “I knew that on the base.” He turned back to Liz, needing to gentle the picture he’d just painted. He could kick himself for the urge, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he needed to ease her mind. “It doesn’t matter. Even if Tess was alive, Xan wouldn’t recognize her as his mother. Just as you don’t. I told you, I knew the Eashance would progress without incident.”

“You smug son of a bitch.”

Langley whirled around, clearly startled by the venom reverberating through Max’s low voice.

“You knew what was happening,” Max hissed in angry disbelief.

Eyes narrowed, Langley watched his King’s slow advance, a small sliver of warning reminding him that he needed to tread lightly. But his damn misplaced pride chafed under the clear rebuke. “I would have thought you’d want your wife bonded to your son.”

“Not…Eashance,” Max dismissed, the word feeling far too familiar on his tongue. He glared at Langley, refusing to allow the purposeful misunderstanding. “You know I don’t mean that. I mean when Xan was on Antar, when I was searching for him and you knew what was happening. You knew and you never said one damn thing.”

“You never asked.” It was an old taunt, comfortable. And suddenly as tired as he was. The Imperative, fully awakened after so many years slumber, would never allow a defense against his King. But frankly, Langley didn’t even feel like fighting the shove that left him up against the wall.

“I shouldn’t have to! He was a baby and you…you should have done your goddamned job!”

Liz gasped, taking a quick step forward before stopping directly behind her husband, wondering if Langley had finally pushed him too far.

“What was I going to do?” Langley burst out, ignoring both Liz’s uncertain presence and the light knocking on the door. “I had no way off the planet, no way to help him.” He struggled away from the wall, shrugging out of Max’s loosening grip. “The people I was in contact with were doing the best they could and I did my job the only way I could.” The words hung hollow in the air between them.

“It wasn’t enough.” Max looked away, suddenly too exhausted to continue the old arguments. “You should have found me.” Langley’s stiff nod surprised him. The unusual desperation he read in the shapeshifter’s eyes, that worried him. He felt Liz steal to his side and exhaled roughly, stepping back as he let her touch sooth his jangled nerves.

“Max…” Liz lay her hand gently on his shoulder, easing him away from Langley as she nodded at the door. “Everybody’s here. We need to…”

“Of course we do.” Max sighed, holding his wife’s gaze as he waved a tired hand at the front door so everyone could file in, just as they had dozens of times before.

Langley quickly straightened his clothes. Saved by the bell. Maybe his luck was finally turning around.

“Are we running or fighting?” Kyle asked bluntly, looking from Langley to Max and back again.

Langley let out a disgruntled sigh. Or not.


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

Michael shook his head. Against his side Maria was still and tense, her entire being on edge as she tried to wrap her mind around what Langley was suggesting. Glancing around the silent room, he guessed they were all trying to do that. He drew her closer to his side, dropping a light kiss against her temple before he tried glaring the shapeshifter into speaking plainly. “Are you insane?” he asked when that didn’t work.

Gritting his teeth, Langley studied the group assembled before him wondering when the hell he’d lost control of this meeting.

When did you have control of it, the smart-ass ever-present voice in his head inquired politely.

Langley was too tired to do more than acknowledge that it was a good point. He’d wanted to spin this right, wanted to bring them slowly to the point of acceptance, if not outright agreement. He shook his head, noting the six identically mutinous expressions on the faces of his captive audience. He should have known better. “No,” he snapped at Michael. “I am not insane.”

“You are if you think I’m risking anyone so you can…”

“You don’t have to risk anyone,” Langley told Max quickly. “In fact, I want to start the exodus within the next week or so.”

“I can’t believe we’re even discussing this,” Isabel murmured. She could feel her world spinning out of control with dizzying speed and she had no idea how to stop it. “How are we supposed to discredit Corwin?” she asked, her fear bleeding into the high pitch of her voice.

“And didn’t you say he was already discredited?” Kyle asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously on Langley.

“He was. And now he’s not.” Langley shook his head impatiently, the Imperative burning under his skin making him clumsy and irritated. Damn it! Didn’t he have enough problems dealing with these people without his own biology rebel against him? “Look, I don’t know how he got a second chance, and we don’t have time to figure it out. He got it, not to mention the interim use of half his unit. Get over it! This is an opportunity people, we need to take advantage of it.”

“And do what?” Maria burst out. “What do you think we can do now that we couldn’t do four years ago.”

Nothing, his conscience reminded him silkily. They could have done this four years ago, but you were in mid-production and…

Ruthlessly silencing the voice Langley took a deep breath. Now or never. “We need to prove that you’re not aliens,” he blurted.

Kyle snorted. “Well, that’ll work for some of us, but that might be a problem for the actual, you know, aliens.”

Liz froze, warning bells ringing through her soul. This was it. This was the moment Langley had been looking for, the moment where he betrayed Max and got rid of all of them. “Do you think we’re that stupid?” she bit out. “It’s impossible!”

Michael nodded, as concerned by Max’s silence as he was by Langley’s half-baked plan. “We’ll never convince him there’s no such thing as aliens. Liz is right, it’s not possible.”

“It is,” Langley insisted. “And Troy agrees.” He took advantage of their stunned expressions to continue. “In fact, it was his idea.” Sort of. Langley sighed, watching them mull over this new information. “Look, I know we’ll never convince him that there’s no such thing as aliens, all we need to do is convince him that you’re not one,” he said, ignoring the rest of the group to focus on his King, who had absolutely no reason in the world to trust him. But might, if the pay off was right. “We can discredit Corwin and buy everybody’s freedom at the same time.”

Maria shook her head. “And how do we do that? He is an alien,” she pointed out. She glanced at Liz and squared her shoulders, rallying quickly when she saw her friend’s desperation. “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it. We need to move, let’s just move.”

Isabel nodded her agreement. “Right. Let’s get out of here and once we’re settled and have more time we can…”

“Damn it, this opportunity isn’t going to happen again!” Langley snapped. “I can’t believe you ungrate…” he took a deep breath, reigning in his temper and the Imperative, which was beginning to throw him completely off balance. If his exasperation didn’t kill him he was pretty sure that goddamned biological slave driver, would.

“Listen to me. This is what’s going to happen; Corwin’s got another hearing coming up and he’ll have to prove that he hasn’t been wasting resources chasing an X-File. I’m going to prove he has. I’m putting the Missing Link project into evidence and I’m going to throw every human case study of telepathy and molecular manipulation that we have in his face.” He paused, the Imperative burning through him from the inside out. Everything hinged on this. And no self respecting Protector would ever suggest it. Or even allow it.

Since when are you self respecting?

Another good point. Langley met his King’s eyes. “And then I’m going to discredit the only real evidence they’ve got to link any of you to alien heritage.”

“Wait,” Michael ordered, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What evidence are you talking about?”

“My blood.” Max ignored the startled looks everyone threw in his direction when he finally broke his silence. He wasn’t entirely certain where Langley was going with this. But he could guess.

Langley exhaled slowly. Finally! At least someone was keeping up. “Yes. There are two blood samples on file,” he began. “And I…” The Imperative strangled the words in his throat.

“You want to break the tie,” Max murmured, understanding dawning sharply, like a cold day.

Kyle shook his head in confusion. “How?”

“Smoke and mirrors,” Langley murmured, his eyes on Max’s drawn features. “It’s what I do. After everyone is gone, Max will…” he still couldn’t say it.

“Donate?” Max supplied dully, reaching for Liz’s hand as he felt her heart fall.

Michael stared at Max suspiciously. “Donate? What the hell are you two thinking?

And why is Max staying behind?” Isabel added. “What do you need him for.”

Max let out a mirthless bark of laughter. “Bait.”