Roswell Fanatics

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.


STILL YOURS - Part 9c
(Of Cabbages and Kings)

THE DREAM STATE......................


When Isabel emerged in Alex's dream this time, she felt like she was on familiar territory. It was night time, and she was alone in shadowy forest. But the terrain and the trees all screamed 'home' to her. It was Frasier Woods. More that that, it was a part of the woods that she was familiar with. Her heart began to accelerate as she picked up her pace down a faint trail that she could pick out in the moonlight. As she rounded a bend in the trail she could see the faint glow of firelight ahead in a glade. Emerging into the clearing she saw Alex reclining against a backpack. He had a blanket spread, and there was a campfire of fragrant pine burning in front of it. He was staring morosely into the fire, poking it with a stick. As he picked up the sound of her approach he stood looking at her apprehensively.

Alex had good reason to be apprehensive. If Isabel wasn't seriously pissed off about what had happened last night, he'd be very much surprised. Which is why he had deliberately tried to direct his dreaming towards a place that held happy memories for both of them.

As Isabel approached him her emotions began to oscillate wildly. But one feeling emerged as dominant. One that went back to that terror filled time the night before when he had hung up on her. When she was within an arms length, she moved. He never saw it coming. One minute she was an arms reach away, the next his cheek hurt like hell and he was seeing stars. He'd hoped to do a little star gazing with her, but this wasn't what he'd had in mind! Jeeez! It was like being kicked by a mule! Rubbing his cheek gingerly he thought, "I think she actually took skin off!" As his vision cleared he saw the love of his life standing there looking at him with her hands on her hips, and damn did she look pissed!

"Alexander Charles Whitman!" she shouted. "You'd better have a damned good explanation for what happened last night or Maria isn't going to get her chance at you, because there won't be enough left of you to matter!"

Alex shook his head to clear the bells ringing in it. God Almighty, she looked so beautiful. Every inch the princess she was supposed to be! When the ringing had subsided sufficiently he said hoarsely, "I'm sorry Izzy. I really am, I had to do what I did because explaining why I was doing it would have taken too long. I was in some serious trouble right then."

Isabel's glare grew deeper. "Do you think that I don't KNOW that? I told you that you and I are bound. Like Liz and Max. And it's getting stronger all the time. I can *feel* you, even when I'm *not* dream walking you! I felt your terror! I felt like I was dying inside. Your fear, my own fear for you. They fed each other until I thought I was going to go out of my mind! I flipped out. I think that I scared poor Max out of ten years of his life!" She was past anger now. Her tears began to flow.

Alex winced and reached out to grip her shoulders, pulling her close. She resisted, pounding her fists weakly and impotently against his chest.

"Do you want to know what was the worst?" she choked out between sobs. "The worst was NOT KNOWING! Not knowing what was happening to you! Don't you EVER do that to me AGAIN!"

Alex made crooning noises as he rubbed her back, running his hands up and down her spine. By increments her tension and tears lessened until her arms slid up around his neck, pulling him closer as her body softened against his and she began to rub her head in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. Then something she had said came back to him.

"Er..Isabel? What did you mean when you said that Maria wouldn't get a chance at me?" he asked. "A chance for what?"

Isabel gave him a squeeze and pulled back a little without letting go. She looked him in the eye and gave him a watery smile. "Why to kick your sorry butt of course. When I told Liz and Maria about you tonight, Maria said that any reaming that *I gave you couldn't *possibly* measure up to what *she* would do to you when she got her hands on you again."

Alex gulped. "You told them? They believed you? Isabel, I'm not sure that was a good thing to do. I took an incredible amount of flak from my friends here for my little excursion last night to call you. I'd hate to think of their reaction to still more people knowing."

Isabel released her hold on him and stepped back. She wasn't angry. And she wasn't crying anymore. But she had her hands on her hips again and was regarding him sternly. "What excursion? And why the flak? Was that what scared you so badly? That they busted you? If they scare you THAT badly over something like *that* then they can't be very good friends!"

Alex looked embarrassed. "Er...no," he said.

Isabel gestured impatiently. "No what? Stop bobbing and weaving with the truth Alex! I can read you like a book. Now what the hell happened! Not just last night! I mean ALL of it!"

Alex sighed, looking reluctant. Isabel relented a bit and stepped forward a bit to link her arm through his so she could pull him towards the blanket. Arriving there she pulled him into a hug and kissed him on both cheeks.

"The hug and kisses are from Liz and Maria," she said.

Alex winced again. "You really told them?"

Laying on the guilt with a trowel she smiled sweetly and said, "Yes I did, and they either believed me, or they make a habit of bursting into wracking sobs at the drop of a hat. They said to tell you that they've missed you."

Alex sat down on the blanket with a thump. His knees were raised, his arms were crossed atop them, and he leaned his head forward against his forearms. He was silent.

Isabel sank down beside him and laid her hand on his arm. "Alex? What is it? What's wrong?" She was beginning to worry that she may have pushed him too hard.

In a soft low voice Alex spoke. "It's a game."

Isabel frowned. "What? What's a game?" Then she tried to move her hand up to his hair, but she pulled back as he flinched.

Alex dragged himself to his feet and began to pace. After several minutes of to and fro he paused and looked at her with folded arms. "Iz, I can give you the spiel that I was given. Do you want it?"

Isabel swallowed and nodded. Maybe this would be it. "Go ahead," she said. "Please?"

Alex tossed some more wood on the fire, then knelt beside Isabel on the blanket and pulled her into a kneeling position like his. "Okay, you've got it. First though, give me a kiss?"

Isabel frowned. "Why?"

Alex sighed. "Because I need one?"

Isabel smiled softly and murmuring the words, "That's reason enough for me," she leaned into him as she placed her arms around his neck. Where the kiss on the hill above the cemetery had been rough, urgent, and demanding, neither of them were in any particular hurry tonight. Isabel gave him an series of gentle teasing kisses before his impatient mouth trapped hers. But she beat him to the punch by opening her mouth first. After that everything became a lazy, warm, sensual exploration of the sort that neither of them had had in six months. They were two people in love, with a desire to taste each other, and unhurried time in which to do it. Isabel felt herself heating up as Alex's hands strayed into new and previously forbidden territory. He cupped her bottom and pulled her hips flush with his. Isabel stiffened for a moment then sighed into his mouth and let him work his will upon her senses.....


*FLASH*

Alex was standing at a pay phone. He slammed the phone down and spun to face the room he was standing in. Fear was written into his posture. After a moment he walked through a door and out into rain do stand near a pillar.

*FLASH*

A man making a clumsy jump from a building and landing to face Alex who drew a sword from beneath the coat he was wearing.

*FLASH*

Duncan running through the rain to join Alex in facing the unknown man...



Alex felt Isabel stiffen slightly and slowly broke the kiss and pulled back slightly so that he could see her face. "Isabel?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

Isabel pulled him close again burrowing her head into the hollow between his shoulder and his neck, clinging tightly. Then she brought her head up to gently stroke the side of his face with hers. Not looking at him she spoke in a low voice. "You were at a pay phone last night, weren't you?"

Alex froze for a moment then pulled back so he could see her face. He brought his hand up to her cheek an stroked gently before using it to force her to look at him. Then he said, "You had a flash, didn't you? What did you see?"

Isabel gave him a gentle shove so that he reclined on the blanket, and then she followed him down. They were laying on their sides, facing each other, only a hand span apart. "I saw you slam down the phone. You hesitated, then you went outside into the rain. There was a man. He jumped off the top of the building." Isabel paused studying his face. She was afraid that her own had her fear for him written all over it. "You were afraid. I could see it. But you drew a sword to fight. Then Duncan ran up. That's where it ended. Alex what's this about? Please tell me?"

Alex reached out and ran his fingers through her hair. Then he leaned forward to give her a quick kiss, before rolling onto his back and bringing one arm up behind his head to support it. Then he heaved an enormous sigh. "I always thought that getting to know you would be a mind bending experience. And that was *before* I knew about your bi-species bi-planetary status." He glanced at Isabel as she gave a snort of laughter, then nodded for him to go on while she reached out to rub his chest. "Anyway, all that didn't hold a candle to how I felt once I discovered that, in my own way, I was no more human than you are." Alex captured her hand and brought it to his lips. "Except in the ways that really count that is." Releasing her hand he closed his eyes and began...

"It begins before recorded history. People like me have always been around. We come into the world as infants, from who knows where, we grow up, we die...but we fail to stay dead. Instead we emerge changed. We're able to sense others like us. That's why I hung up on you last night. I knew that another like me was around, and the odds were good that he wasn't my friend."

Isabel looked puzzled. "You sensed him? How?"

Alex shrugged. "How does a rabbit know when a hawk or coyote is around? We call it 'the buzz'. It's like that 'someone is walking over your grave' shiver, multiplied a thousand times, and with an electric tingle thrown in for good measure. When we feel it we know that another of our kind is nearby."

Isabel nodded. Now she was getting somewhere. "Are there many like you?"

Alex looked thoughtful. "Define 'many'. According to Joe Dawson's Watchers there are never more than five or six thousand of us around at any given time, tops. And our population seems to vary in direct proportion to the overall human population."

"Watchers?" Isabel prodded.

"Normal humans who've made it their business to keep an eye on my kind since forever," he responded. "Their archives go back thousands of years. Where ever one of us goes, there are always one or more Watchers dogging us, recording our lives. Joe runs the North American branch of The Watchers." Alex chuckled. "In addition he's Duncan's friend, which I'm given to understand is something of a no no for Watchers. They're supposed to watch us, not fraternize. Given that both he and Duncan are rebels at heart, you can see where that wouldn't matter a damn to either of them. Anyway, that's how I come to know as much as I do."

Isabel listened with rapt attention. "So what does this have to do with the idiot on top of that building? And why the combat training?"

Alex sighed and looked at Isabel. "Iz, this is the tough part. And I need you to be calm. Okay?"

Isabel continued to rub his chest, simply to maintain contact and keep him at ease. She just *knew* that she wasn't going to like this, but she nodded her acceptance anyway.

Alex lapsed back and close his eyes again. "No one knows where it began, or how. The Watcher archives aren't clear on it. But the..um...people like me play a game. You might say that we're born to play it. In fact they refer to it as The Game. Special emphasis, big 'T' big 'G'."

Isabel stopped rubbing and sat up. "Okay", she thought, "now I'm REALLY not liking this!" She took his hand and kissed it, then spoke aloud. "And this game involves swords and combat?"

Alex nodded. "Ever seen Gladiator?"

A single tear traced a path down Isabel's cheek. She smiled as Alex silently reached up to wipe it away. "Why?", she asked. "Why do they do this?"

Alex shrugged. "Like I said, no one knows. And opting out isn't a possibility. The others can sense you. And while the occasional one may agree with you, the next one probably won't. So you live your life on guard constantly. Both the hunter and the hunted. The fighting is to the death. But it has more in common with the stereotype of the gunfighters of the Old West. Even if you avoid confrontation and try to lead a normal life, there's always going to be some asshole who wants to make a reputation coming to town to try his or her luck."

Isabel's eyes snapped to his. "Her?" she thought. Then she went on aloud. "So that makes you what, Billy the Kid?"

"No, it just makes me a guy trying to survive in something that I didn't volunteer for," he said.

Isabel was getting angry now at the unfairness of it all. That a gentle spirit like Alex should be thrust into this was beyond injustice. It was cosmically cruel. "So, is there an object to all this murder and mayhem, or is it just a big free for all?"

Alex sensed her emotional bent, even if he wasn't sure whether her anger was for him...or *at* him. "There *are* rules. And like all rules there are some people who don't follow them. But most do. Single combat only. Holy ground is your only refuge. It doesn't matter what religion. No fighting or killing may be done on consecrated soil. Older players take newbies under their wing to show them the ropes. Newbies...which would be me by the way....are off limits for combat. Challenge a newbie and you have to get through his teacher first."

Isabel regarded Alex steadily. She forced her anger down. This was NO time to lose it. "And your teacher would be...?" she asked. She knew the answer, and it must have shown.

Alex grinned. "You got it in one. Duncan. Though Amanda and Richie also have a piece of it too. They're both like me. Richie was Duncan's student before me. And Amanda has been tight with Duncan forever. I had the dumb luck to fall under the tutelage of a man who's so good at the game that he *can* opt out and be left mostly alone. He still gets the occasional idiot who won't listen to reason, but he hasn't lost yet. Amanda and Richie, and quite a few of his other friends run the same way."

Isabel stretched out next to him and laid her head on his chest. "Will I ever hear this heart beat for real again?" she wondered silently. She sighed and spoke. "None of which tells me why? Why is the game played?"

Alex cleared his throat. "Like I said, it's vague. There's this nebulous legend that, one day, the last player standing will gain a great prize. But there's no description of it. This isn't The Publisher's Clearinghouse. Anyway, the legend is enough to keep the fighting going. The legend and tradition. And even if I don't like it...even if *you* don't like it...I'm stuck with it."

Isabel was silent for a while, then sat up looking puzzled. "Alex, how did you get out of...er..um..."

"My grave?" he finished for her. When she nodded he pulled her back down to his chest. "It was dumb luck, or maybe the grace of God. If people like me last long enough, the older ones develop the ability to sense those who are like them but who..um..haven't made the change yet. Two of Duncan's friends, Cassandra and Methos, were on a road trip through our area six months ago and they stopped in Roswell. They're both..um..old, as people like me go. They spotted me right off the bat. So they got curious and stuck around. People like me they keep tabs on. As luck would have it that was only a day before I died, and as a result they were still in town for my funeral. So the night after the funeral, they waited until they were certain they wouldn't be seen, then they appropriated the back hoe from the cemetery garage and dug me out. If they hadn't I'd have been stuck. Buried alive."

Isabel shuddered at the fate that Alex had escaped. "Well, it's good to know that you don't have super powers. *That* would have worried me. Remind me to thank them if I ever get to meet them," she said.

Alex sighed, he wanted to tell her, but not until they were face to face. She rated *that* much at least. "So, now you know. What do you think?"

Isabel frowned. "What do you think that I think? It sucks. It blows. And I won't stand for it!"

Alex sat up, thus forcing Isabel to sit up as well. "Iz, you guys were in enough trouble the last year or so without bringing ME into the mix. I see that I forgot to mention 'The Quickening'.

Isabel's emotional barometer began to nudge into the red zone. "The what?" she asked caustically.

"When one of us dies, I mean *really* dies, there's a substantial release of energy. I've never seen it, but I'm told that it's really hard on the surrounding real estate. The only thing that can stand up to it is someone like me. Lighting bolts, fire, explosions, the works. Imagine something like that in a little burg like Roswell. And there will be if I live there. I won't be able to avoid it. People would talk. It would attract attention. And that's something that you don't need."

Isabel frowned. Something wasn't adding up. How could anyone stand up to such power *unless* they were more than human?

Before she could ask the question that Alex saw written on her face, he took evasive measures. "I'll prove that I'm dangerous to you, without even being there. Remember the bozo that jumped off the top of the bus station?"

"That was a bus station?" she thought. "Thank you Alex!" She nodded yes.

Alex went on. "I went there to call you so that the long distance wouldn't show up on Duncan's phone bill. Duncan followed me, and so did that guy. His name is Rafe Conterras. He specializes in breaking the rules. In killing newbies like me. Before we can learn to fight back."

Isabel's stomach turned over. "And you want to stay and let this bastard try to kill you? Oh yeah! That's logic!"

Alex stood and pulled Isabel up with him. He reached out to stroke her her hair gently. She was upset, but the contact still soothed her. Alex pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "If it means a shot at keeping him away from Roswell, then yes..I will."

Isabel stiffened. "What are you talking about?"

"Alex sighed deeply. "Apparently the son of a bitch was something of a psychopath before he...um..crossed over. He still is. A stalker type. He followed Duncan, Richie, and I to New Mexico when we were there for the funeral. Somehow he was eavesdropping. Anyway, he knows your name and that you mean something to me. When we had our little confrontation at the bus station, the arrival of a bus stopped things before they could get rolling. We don't fight in public. But we had words. And he made it clear that once he kills me, he intends to come for you. Just to torment me."

Thunder clouds gathered on Isabel's brow. "I remember his face Alex. A pretty one with an ugly scar. If he comes near me, he's a grease stain. No problem. If he kills *you*, or even bruises you seriously, I'll track him to the ends of the Earth, and he'll *still* be a grease stain. Again, no problem."

Alex nodded. "That isn't the problem." Then he pulled her close. "I have absolute confidence in your ability to deal with the likes of him. But you shouldn't have to. What if he sees what you can do and gets away alive? Or he has company with him, and *they* see what you can do and get away alive? The risk is just too damned high! If it were just you and me, I'd have a problem with it. Throw Max, Michael, Liz, Maria...and yes Jim and Kyle Valenti too...into the pot and the stakes are just too high. I fold. I can't bet their lives on our happiness! And stop and consider that it goes both ways. The government would probably be just as happy to vivisect Duncan or Amanda as they would you or Max." Alex sighed. "Do we have the right to risk all those people? Do I?"

Isabel shoved herself from Alex's arms and walked away, perhaps five paces. She stood with her back to him, her arms folded, her head down. Alex watched her with a growing sense of unease. She didn't seem angry, but with Isabel you couldn't be certain. She was thinking. There was that feeling again that things weren't adding up. Alex was holding something back. That crack about the Feds wanting to get their hands on Duncan and Amanda as much she and Max. No matter. She shook it off. "I'll deal with it later," she thought. "Right now I have the information I need." Abruptly she turn turned back towards him. The look on her face was the last thing he expected. She was smiling, but behind the smile there was the hardened steel of determination.

"Do you love me Alex?" she asked.

"What?" he responded.

Isabel sighed. "It's a simple question Alexander Whitman. Do - you - love - me?"

"With everything that I am, and with every breath that I take," he said solemnly.

She came to him and took his hands. "Then go with me on this. Okay, I'll admit that you, and by extension we, don't have the right to put everyone at risk without their knowledge. So lets ask them."

"What!?" Alex exploded.

"You heard me," Isabel said. "You tell your friends about us. *All* about us. I'll do the same with our people in Roswell. Then we find away to make it work."

"Max and Michael would never go for it," Alex protested weakly.

Isabel smirked. "Oh, I think that they would once Liz and Maria get through with them. And Max might anyway without any convincing. After all..he saved Liz without consulting anyone didn't he?"

"But my friends in Seattle.....," he started.

"Are bound to be cautious," she finished. "So, as a gesture of good will, tell them about us first."

Alex was wavering. Isabel stepped in close. "Damnit Alex, I can't manage to live on this world or any other without you. I'm not even sure I want to try." She drew closer, placing her arms around his neck. "When we were first together I knew that I loved you, right from the beginning. And it scared the hell out of me! So I broke up with you. I dated around. I deliberately went out of my way to try and make you stop caring." She looked ashamed now. "I did such awful things to try and make you stop loving me. And when you came back from that ersatz trip to Sweden, I thought that I'd finally succeeded. And my triumph tasted like ashes. Because, in driving you away, I'd destroyed what made me human. Your love. And I was getting to *like* being human! I can't go back to the way things were before you knew me! All of me! I don't want to, and I *won't*"! Give me this chance! Give *us* this chance! Please?"

Alex sighed. He considered. He made his choice. "Okay Iz! I....."

A husky contralto voice spoke with authority. ""STILL!""

MacLeod's Dojo......11:30 PM

As the dream catcher continued it's resonant hum, both Duncan and Amanda were looking at Cassandra expectantly. Cassandra walked over to Alex's bed. Being a king size it had more than enough room for two people, so she carefully crawled in and stretched out next to Alex.

Amanda knew what was going to happen, and felt antsy about her role as spectator. She approached the bed as well. "Are you sure that there's nothing that we can do?"

Cassandra broke off the meditation mantra that she had barely begun to relax herself into trance state. "Nothing at all, buuut....." She trailed off.

Amanda frowned. "What?"

Cassandra sighed. "Do you recall that I said that, as a natural, the girl can come and go at will, without injury? And that I was probably the sole surviving practitioner among those who were trained to it, rather than born to it like she is?"

Amanda nodded yes.

Cassandra said, "There's a reason for that. This sort of thing is risky for the one doing it. Draining. Drain the body's strength enough and it dies. The mortals who did this, all of them, sooner or later overstepped those safety margins, and paid with their lives. I should know. I've died several times while doing this , but being an Immortal I could survive where they could not. I may die doing it this time as well, if I have to push it. If I do I want you to keep 'the boy scout' calm about it." Cassandra glanced at Duncan meaningfully. "I've done it before."

Amanda smiled at her. "I'll sit on him, never fear. Just one thing. How come we smell apple blossoms?"

Cassandra shrugged. "Perhaps someone will explain it someday. The same phenomenon occurs with me, or any of the mortals who used to do it. If there's a strong odor in your ambient environment you take it with you when you go. That's why there used to be a ritual of cleanliness that accompanied the doing of this. Some regarded it as a purity thing. It was nothing of the sort. It was to eradicate body odor so you wouldn't give yourself away when you were snooping. The apple blossoms are simply her perfume."

Amanda laughed softly. "Thanks. And to think I was ready to kick that living hell out of Duncan because I thought a strange woman had been around. It turns out that one was. And a very strange one at that."

Cassandra smiled back at her and said, "I'd better go look after our surrogate son before he gets himself in further trouble. I have to hurry. Time behaves strangely in the dream plane. It's already been nearly five minutes since she arrived. But in the dream plane, days may have passed. Or only minutes. Either way the longer I delay, the harder my job will be. She has the advantage of being able to stay there indefinitely if she wishes. My time there is finite. Whatever I do must be done quickly and decisively."

Amanda gave her hand a squeeze. "Sorry I was a bitch earlier. I love him too. Good luck, Cass. Take care of him."

Cassandra nodded and closed her eyes and began to drone the mantra that would help her enter trance and permit entry into the undermind. She felt the familiar leaden sensation in her limbs. She'd always disliked this part. Which is why it had been nearly five hundred years since she'd last used this particular skill. She felt herself slipping free of consciousness and physical bonds. She was drifting in a featureless void. "Alex?" she whispered. "Where are you?" Using the 'fisherman' analogy that had served her well centuries ago she cast the net of her consciousness into the void. At first she thought that she had failed. Then she felt a slight 'tug'. It felt familiar. Following it she found herself approaching light. She was drifting through a moonlit landscape of open forest. If this was something that Alex had conjured, then she had to give him credit. It showed clarity of thought, and a good eye for detail.

It took her only moments to reach the glade with the campfire. There they were! She could already feel her strength ebbing, but she took a moment anyway to get a good look at the subject of her foray into Alex's dreams. "Dear God!" she thought. "What a lovely young woman! Sulieman the Great never had a wife half as lovely, and he'd had thousands of them!" Cassandra paused. Why had she chosen the word 'wife'? Never one to doubt her intuition she concentrated on shifting her perceptions to allow her to detect the energies that surrounded all human beings. It was easier to do here than in the physical world.

The dream world took on a shadowy half life as the world of the aether took form. The place of spiritual energy. The realm of souls. What she saw there left her speechless. Normally humans have a definite glow of a particular color surrounding them. What people have, for thousands of years and in one language or another, labeled 'the aura'. Reading the color and vitality of it can give you insights into the character of the person you're interested in. But these two children were something else entirely! The aura was there all right. For both of them. But in both it surpassed, in richness and density, anything that she had seen in all her millennia. And where an ordinary human aura is usually simply a diffuse cloud, both Alex's and the girl's had structure. They both showed a central core of energy so intense that it was blinding. As she watched, strange arcane energies played back and forth between them. Crackling with mystic vitality. They were obviously in love, but there was more to it than that. They were something she'd rarely seen. They were soul mates. The thin silvery appearing thread that normally binds two hearts in love together was, in this case, replaced by a mighty cable of polychromatic light connecting their very souls. It was so beautiful to look at that it was almost painful...and at the same time mesmerizing.

Forcing herself away she shifted her focus fully back into the dream plane. She was starting to lose her ability to operate smoothly. It had been to hard changing focus. It was time to end this. She was here to stall things. To buy time. And that is what she would do. Drawing her remaining strength together she forced her way fully into Alex's dream. As soon as she had substance she shouted in Voice.

""STILL!""

Both Alex and Isabel stood frozen by the command. Cassandra strode forward and studied the girl that apparently had Alex's heart in her hand. She had been right. She truly was lovely, in an almost unearthly sort of way. As if one of the Faerie had taken mortal form. Shaking herself from her thoughts she gently reached out and stroked the girl's cheek. ""Tell me child, is your name Isabel?"" When Isabel nodded woodenly Cassandra sighed. She hated to do this, but it was only temporary. ""Hear me Isabel. You will go home tonight, returning to the confines of your body and your bed, and you won't remember me, or anything that has transpired here. You never found Alex. He remains dead. He loves you still, but he's with the Angels now. Do you hear me? Do you understand?""

Isabel spoke as if in a daze. "I understand."

Cassandra was startled by the single tear that traced a path down Isabel's cheek. It tore at her. Dear God, did their love have such power, even in trance? Wiping the tear away she placed a kiss of benediction on the girl's cheek. ""Go then daughter. And be happy, for Alex is safe with the Angels. And he loves you still. Sleep deeply and without dreams. Arise refreshed. Go now, with love.""

Isabel vanished.

Looking at Alex she sighed sadly. ""RELEASE!""

Alex snapped out of his daze. One minute Isabel had been standing with her arms around his neck, the next she was gone. Had someone awakened her? He cast about frantically, but the confusion only lasted a second. He had company. The nature of his company explained a lot.

"Hello Cassandra," he said. "So I guess that we're busted? Where's Isabel?"

Cassandra smiled tiredly. She couldn't stay much longer. "I sent her home with orders to forget that she found you."

Alex was aghast. "You can't do that! Conterras has threatened to kill her! Or worse! I told her to watch for him! By ordering her to forget you're leaving her defenseless! If he kills me, he'll go for her next!"

Cassandra felt sorrow for his fear, however temporary, and sought to calm him. "Alex, I promise you, if worst comes to worst, Methos and I will see to her safety. Personally. But we won't let it come to that, I promise. Conterras will never leave this city alive."

Alex gave a melancholy sigh. "Why? Why was this necessary?"

Cassandra reached out and pulled him into a hug. He stood stiffly in her arms. She understood Amanda's emotions better than Amanda herself. The frustrated mother in her wept at what she had had to do. She had hurt her little boy. "Caution in all things Alex. You don't live past your first thousand years without caution. There's trouble coming that you know nothing about. Trouble that she can have no part of. One of the major reasons that we indoctrinated you to avoid your loved ones from your previous life was not to protect *you*, but rather to allow you to protect *them*. You know that. And we needed time to deal with what's coming, and time to think. Or rather Duncan needed time to think. I know he can be stiff at times, but eventually the maverick romantic in him will succumb to the charm of the love you two share. And it *is* love. Any blind man could see that." She chuckled. "And I am not blind...on any of several planes."

Alex looked up hopefully. "You saw something?"

Cassandra laughed. "Enough to know that the love between you two is unique."

Alex thought of Max and Liz, as well Michael and Maria, and he muttered, "Unique? Don't count on it."

Cassandra continued. "Her binding with you is so strong that the memory suppression I performed here tonight will not last long. But it will hold long enough for us to divine a way to come to terms with your mind walking soul mate." Cassandra chuckled. "Though Amanda might never do so." She laughed aloud as Alex winced. "*And* it will hold long enough for us to deal with Britanicus without your Beloved's interference."

Alex snorted. "On the Amanda issue...wanna bet? Izzy will charm her socks off. And who's this Britanicus?" Then he paused and regarded Cassandra quizzically. "By the way, I forgot to ask, what *are* you doing here?? How did you get here?"

Cassandra laughed. "You will find out about Britanicus in the morning, when you awake. And as for how I got here....what your beloved does naturally, I took decades of training and discipline to accomplish. And where she does it without strain or effort, every moment that I'm here costs me. An ordinary mortal with my skill would have left before now. As an Immortal I can afford to take risks that they cannot. However, my time still grows short. And I still have one more task to complete."

Alex was looking concerned. "What's that?"

Cassandra regarded him solemnly and said....

""Forget.""


End of Part 9

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.


STILL YOURS - Part 10a
(Awakenings)

MacLeod's Dojo........... Tuesday 1:00 AM

Cassandra was curled up on the couch in the main room of Duncan's loft warming her hands around a cup of green tea that Amanda had brewed. She hadn't died coming back from the under mind, but it had been a close run thing. And, while an Immortal doesn't stay dead, the actual process of dying albeit temporarily is *not* something that they look forward to with any great enthusiasm. Amanda was sitting across from her while Duncan was on the phone in the kitchen speaking to Joe Dawson. And, judging by what Amanda could hear of the conversation from Duncan's end, a very irate Joe Dawson. At the moment he was trying to get a word in edgewise.

"Yes....... I'm sorr...... Of course I know what ti...... .Joe, I nee...... No I won't make a habi...." Finally Duncan gave up. Rolling his eyes at the ladies he settled back and let Joe go on popping and fizzing. Judging by the cup of tea that Duncan poured himself, he planned to be there a while.

Amanda and Cassandra looked away only to find themselves staring at each other. The silence stretched for a few moments, then Amanda spoke. "What was she like?" she asked.

Cassandra didn't need a translator to know who the 'she' was that Amanda was referring to.

Cassandra stared off into space. "You have to understand, I didn't talk to her. I simply slammed the door on her and got her out of there. Since she's a natural, she's stronger than I am, and who knows what other abilities she might harbor. What I did, I could get away with only once. There won't be a twice. Once she remembers, she'll be seriously angry, and very much on guard. I won't be able to do *that* to her again." Pausing for a moment she considered. "And when it comes to it, Alex isn't going to be happy either. Not with us, or with me."

Amanda frowned. "No, he won't. But you won't take the heat for it alone. Duncan and I were there, and we knew what the score was." She paused. "So, if you can't give me an idea of her character, then give me your impression of her at least."

Cassandra laughed to herself. Amanda had the mommy thing even worse than she herself did. It made Cassandra wonder if Amanda would ever be able to cut those apron strings when the time came. Cassandra covered her amusement and looked thoughtful, then she broke into a half smile. "Would you believe a cross between a super model and a valkyrie?"

Amanda blinked. "What exactly does *that* mean?"

Cassandra chuckled. "She's not exactly the physical type that you would imagine seeing Alex with." Her expression turned pensive. "Tall, statuesque, blond, unnaturally beautiful, and..for want of a better word...regal."

Amanda looked a little incredulous. "Regal?"

Cassandra shrugged. "She had an air about her. Like she was 'born to the purple', in a way the ancient Roman Patricians could only dream of." Cassandra's face became distant again, remembering. "I can tell you this, I think that she's good, and good for him."

Amanda gave a cynical snort that got Cassandra's immediate attention. "Look Amanda, I know that you don't buy into the things I that I can do, but they *do* work. If they didn't, then Alex and his lady love would be waking up tomorrow morning with their memories intact. I can tell you without question that I've never seen energies like those that surround those two. And I've never seen one aura interact with another the way theirs do. Taking all that into account, I'd say that they're something that I see only rarely. They're soul mates. But of a unique sort. Instead of being two souls tied to each other, they're more two halves of a single creature seeking union...or perhaps RE-union. The bond between them is so powerful that it's almost tangible. I wish that you could have seen it. It was so beautiful that it was blinding." Cassandra paused for breath. "In any event, all I did was put a temporary damper on things. It won't last. It can't possibly. Sooner or later she'll remember, and then she *will* come for him. And she'll have fire in her eyes when she comes."

Amanda gave Cassandra a skeptical look and then settled back scowling. "There's no way to sever the connection then?"

Cassandra graced Amanda with a matching scowl. This doting mother thing was getting out of hand! "I'm not sure that I'd want to if I could! And I don't think that I could! I don't think that *anyone* could! You didn't see it. Even with the best effort that I could muster, it would be like trying to saw through a steel I-beam with dental floss! Just so much wasted effort! And even if I *could*, the parting might well kill them both! Even if it didn't, it would leave them both empty shells of what they were. No. The only ones who could effect that sort of separation are the two involved. They would have to do it themselves. And frankly I can't imagine the sort of power and emotion it would take to accomplish it. I don't think that I'd care to, because it would be tragic on an epic scale. To do so would require an act of raw courage of their part. Or on *someone's* part. And it would probably end up killing them both an inch at a time anyway. If anything this increases my admiration for Alex enormously."

Amanda's skepticism was fading somewhat, and was now being overridden by her curiosity. "Why?" she asked.

Cassandra smiled beatifically. "Because he resisted the call of his heart and soul all these months. Something powerful resides in that boy. Something that drove him to resist the inevitable for half a year. Knowing what I know now, I can say that it wasn't our rules that kept him away from her. It was *his* honor and courage. He's what Lancelot *should* have been."

Amanda laughed aloud. "Honestly Cass! I thought that we all out grew the starry eyed romantic stage before our first centennial! " She sighed deeply. "Let's hope that he doesn't end up the same way that Lancelot did in the stories."

Cassandra smiled confidently. "He won't. He's different in one critical way from the example I chose. Love was Lancelot's weakness. His Achilles Heel. But with Alex, love is his strength. I don't know what the future holds for him. But as long as he has love, he won't falter or fail."

Truer words were never spoken.

The conversation tapered off leaving both women alone with their thoughts. Amanda's were centered on this unknown girl, and on whether or not she was worth as much as Cass claimed that she was. Cassandra on the other hand was much further afield, dwelling on her memories of the first time she had laid eyes on the subject of her discussion with Amanda.......

On 285 South Approaching The Roswell City Limits......Mid Saturday Morning Six Months Previously.

The vintage '57 Caddy Convertible was purring like a kitten, which was more than could be said for it's occupants. Silence had reigned in the car since they had departed Santa Fe after breakfast. Both people in the car were quite old and very stubborn. In other words, neither one was going to speak first unless they absolutely had to.

"Damn Amanda anyway," thought Methos, " for foisting this road trip off on us." Glancing over at the auburn haired brick wall in the passenger's seat he still marveled at the fact that, after nearly thirty seven hundred years, she could still stir his blood like no other woman could. They say first impressions are lasting ones. And the impression that he had made when he, as a part of the Four Horsemen, had laid her village waste and taken her as a slave *still* hadn't worn off. Thinking about it he winced. Back in those days he would have given Ted Bundy a run for his money. But he'd out grown it. Which is one reason that he didn't subscribe to the portrayal of criminals as victims. Even a total psychopath is free to choose between good and evil. And he had chosen good... eventually. He just wished that he'd chosen it *before* he'd met his fellow traveler all those centuries ago. As it was he'd spent the rest of his very long life trying to expiate the sins of those centuries as a brigand, and he still had a long way to go. Turning his eyes back to the road he sighed. The only conversation so far today had been her complaint over breakfast at his proposed stopover in Roswell. Of course had he decided to stop in any other town the complaint would have had different grounds, but the same reason...he was within one hundred yards of her.

He still hadn't a clue of what had driven Amanda to bully him into this. Ostensibly her reasoning was that they were both friends of Duncan's. Having friends who were mortal enemies made Duncan uncomfortable. And what made Duncan uncomfortable made Amanda uncomfortable. One thing was certain, she had badly wanted them out of her hair for a while. He had no idea what had happened to put Cassandra in this car with him, but the hints that he'd picked up suggested some sort of lost bet. Hiding his smile he laughed inwardly. "At thirty seven hundred years old, I would have imagined that Cass had more sense than to gamble with Amanda about *anything*," he thought, "from a turn of a card to what time of day it was. Amanda never loses."

Glancing again towards his passenger his good humor faded. She hated his guts. He sighed. She hated his guts with good reason. Only the fact that Duncan had sworn by his reformed character kept her from trying to take his head. And even so, he'd still slept with one eye open the entire trip. He sighed deeply and tried to ignore the fire in his belly. You'd think that after over three and a half millennia.....

For her part his passenger was having a hard time of her own. The memories of long ago were still bitter. But when confronted by his earnest good behavior she couldn't find anything that she could use to justify herself to Duncan, should she take his head. She was the very definition of mixed emotions. Part of her wanted to kill him. Part of her wanted to forgive him. And part of her, a very small part she told herself, just plain wanted him. Which revolted her....didn't it? By any civilized measure, what he, Kronos, Silas, and Caspian had done to her people had been barbaric. But, by late Bronze Age standards, it had been business as usual. Could she truly blame the man next to her for what he had done so long ago? "Yes!" Cassandra thought, "I can, and *then* some! You don't forget that sort of treatment! Damn Amanda anyway!" The bet had been a simple one. Amanda had bet her that she couldn't get Methos to agree to go on a vacation with Cassandra. The stakes were equally simple. If Amanda secured his agreement, Cass had to go...and the mode of travel would be selected by Amanda. "Selected for the intimacy of it no doubt!" she snarled inwardly.

She stretched to cover a lingering glance at the man driving the car. His spare features were an impassive mask, revealing nothing of his thoughts. Had she been meeting him for the first time, she would have considered him quite handsome. And he was articulate and charming as well. None of which did anything to improve her temper. She returned her glare to the road and silently berated herself for the way her thoughts had been running. "Someday," she thought. "Someday he'll screw up and reveal his true colors. Then I'll be glad that I kept my distance, because I'll finally be able to shorten him with a clear conscience."

They were coming into Roswell. The sudden transition from desert scrub to civilization was jarring to say the least. Everywhere that they looked the 'aliens have landed' theme was evident. It was a weekend, and even though the schools were in session for the year, the streets were heavy with tourists and their kids. Methos pulled to a stop in front of a kitschy little restaurant with a flying saucer logo. The sign read "Crashdown Cafe". As they both got out of the car (still without a word between them) and stretched their legs, Cassandra took in the tourist traps up and down the street. Including the 'UFO Center' across the street. She groaned deeply and turned to Methos. "Just what is the big attraction here? I mean, I'm on this trip under protest anyway. Is there really any reason that I should have to suffer through this?" She waved at the street.

Methos shrugged. "It's just a little trip down amnesia lane. I was stationed here once upon a time. I wanted to see how the old place had changed."

Cassandra frowned. "Stationed? As in, the military? When were *you* in the American military?"

Methos chuckled. "No I wasn't in the *American* military. But, back in 1939, I found myself in possession of a British citizenship *and* a valid pilot's license for multi-engine aircraft. The perfect prescription for *conscription* into the RAF. I loved flying, but flying a Lancaster bomber through German flak on a moonless night wasn't my idea of a good time!"

Cassandra's eyes narrowed. "None of which tells me how you ended up *here*.

Methos shrugged. "War is never a good time for our kind. Too much chance of being seen to live through something that we couldn't possibly have survived. I didn't figure that walking out of a flaming plane wreck would be good for my anonymity. So I calculated the odds and saw the best way to stay in the military and still be a noncombatant. Be a hero."

Cassandra gave a snort of disbelief. "What?"

Methos smirked. "I became the best and most highly decorated night bomber pilot in RAF history." Methos bowed. "William Trent KCVO and holder of a Victoria Cross at your service." He looked up with his eyes twinkling slightly. "So when the Yanks started shopping the British for some men to train *their* pilots in night bombing......"

"You got yourself assigned to the job?" Cassandra finished.

Methos nodded. "Exactly right. Of course that was in '41 and, at the time, things were still pretty iffy for Merry Olde England...so they were loath to let an experienced man get away like that. So I had to resort to slipping a case of twenty year old black market Scotch to Art "Bomber" Harris' adjutant to get the assignment." Methos chuckled. "Best money I ever spent!"

Cassandra looked like she'd bitten into a raw lemon. "I might have figured that you, of all people, would take the coward's way out. A pity, unloading tons of bombs on to innocent civilians would have been right up your alley."

With a pained look, Methos sighed. "The "Methos is the Scum of the Earth" riff was old when Rome was new," he thought. "But I can't complain. Because I *was* the scum of the earth...as she knows only too well." He went on aloud. "Mass murder and wholesale destruction lose their entertainment value rapidly. It's easier to destroy than to build. And any Immortal that takes the easy path all the time will die of boredom long before someone takes their head. And even if they live on..they're dead inside."

Cassandra looked unconvinced, which hardly surprised Methos, but seemed willing to drop it....until the next time. Looking around again she frowned. "So, were you around when the place made a name for itself?"

Methos smiled with relief. "No. I was pulled out as soon as the war was over, back in '46. But I knew some of the people involved. Jesse Marcel and a few others. I even did some hunting near where the whatever it was is alleged to have crashed." He shrugged.

Cassandra glanced around and muttered under her breath. Methos cleared his throat in a questioning noise and Cassandra sighed and spoke aloud. "I said, so much built on so little." Methos still looked puzzled so she continued. "One hoax, and it alters a town's fate in history forever. Most towns have required a lot more catastrophe, and a lot more human suffering, to get their names into the history books." She waved her hand at the street. "Part of me finds a certain charm to it. But the larger part is contemptuous. It feels like this town cheated somehow." Cassandra noticed that Methos got a far away look in his eyes and, her curiosity was piqued. "What is it?" she asked.

Methos cleared his throat. "I don't know. It may have been a hoax. In fact there almost certainly *was* a hoax. But it was a hoax that covered something else. Something bigger and a *lot* more serious happened here back in July of '47. I knew a lot of locals, and I knew Jesse Marcel personally. And I tried to stay in touch for a while after I was recycled back to England. Marcel and I used to play cards together at the O-Club. The man didn't have a dishonest bone in his body. If he had told me that he'd found a crashed flying saucer, then I'd have been inclined to believe him."

Cassandra shrugged. "So, he made a mistake."

Methos shook his head. "He wasn't sort to do something that stupid. But it isn't my assessment of the man that tells me that there was something queer going on. It was what happened later. Men that I'd been stationed with here stopped answering letters. There was one captain, a hell of a guy named Hal Carver, a real load of trouble he was, that simply dropped off the face of the Earth. A pity. He was always good company." Methos sighed and looked a little pensive before continuing. "Even the few locals that I knew well enough, to exchange occasional cards and letters with, just clammed up. The final confirmation came when, in October of '47, I wrote a short letter to Marcel. I was teasing him about the whole thing. I heard back about it, but not from him. One morning in late December I was hauled out of bed at the BOQ and found myself standing at attention in front of the battered desk in a dingy anonymous office. Behind that desk was Air Marshal "Bomber" Harris himself."

Methos paused for breath, then went on. "It's worth noting that he shouldn't have been there at all. The official word was that he'd left the air service and England over a year before. The fact that American General Curtis LeMay was with him didn't help either. They had my letter to Marcel in front of them, and they proceeded to take turns interrogating me about it. It went on for hours. After they had satisfied themselves that I was just an idiot having a little fun with a friend they proceeded to inform me that I was playing games with classified material. And should I ever do it again, I'd find myself stationed in the Falkland Islands until I was "old and gray", where I'd spend the rest of my days chasing sheep off the runways. Now," he paused, "does *that* sound like a flap worthy of a 'weather balloon' to you?"

Cassandra studied him for a moment, then she smirked. "So you believe in little green men do you? At your age? It has to be a sign of senility setting in."

Methos gave a snort. "I never said that I believe in little green men, martians, UFO's, or anything else. I simply know that whatever happened here, over half a century ago, it was no wandering weather balloon that came down out there. Experimental aircraft or flying saucer, it was big enough and hot enough for the US government to clamp a light proof, leak proof lid on it....and big enough to cause them to get His Majesty's government to lean on *me*."

Cassandra looked skeptical, but shrugged as if to say that it didn't matter. "So what did you do?" she asked.

Methos sighed. "What *could* I do? I'd attracted the wrong kind of attention. Wrong by a long stretch. So I played the cowed subordinate to the hilt. And shortly after that William Trent was "killed" in a crash while on a routine training flight. No body was ever found. And I spent the next fifteen years captaining a tramp steamer up and down the China coast."

Cassandra nodded grudgingly. That's what she would have done as well. One thing that immortality did for you is that eventually it did confer wisdom of a sort. In other words, an Immortal learned a sense of proportion and perspective. Hence, any of them who lived long enough would know when to cut their losses and run, and were always prepared for that eventuality. She glanced up and down the street again, then spoke. "So what's your intention here? A walking tour of old haunts? Must we see every former bar and brothel in Roswell?"

Methos chuckled. "If you insist. However, we're standing in front of my favorite old hangout at the moment." Waving a hand at the cafe they'd stopped in front of. "This used to be the 'Longhorn Bar and Grill'." Turning he indicated the UFO Center across the street. "And *that* used to be the 'Majestic Hotel'. Between these two places and the local movie theater there wasn't much else to do here. Sure, we'll walk around a bit. But it won't take long. We'll come back to catch lunch here, then be on our way."

The two of them set off at a leisurely pace following the trail of Methos' memories of the Roswell that was. Now and again he would stop, pointing out a missing house or building, or one that had changed. Or, very rarely, one that was still the same as it had been over fifty years ago. Cassandra, for her part, maintained a sullen silence punctuated by an occasional caustic remark. Methos took her temper in stride, while wondering yet again just what the hell had possessed Amanda to saddle him with this. After a few hours Methos had visited all the places that he'd wanted to, with only one incident involving a late middle aged woman who thought that he looked familiar. With good reason. She was the daughter of one of the local people that he'd been friends with. That last time that he'd seen her she had only been 7 years old. Of course, neither he nor Cassandra brought that minor fact up. They simply chatted pleasantly with the woman for a few minutes, then they beat a hasty retreat.

It was lunch time when they approached the Crashdown Cafe where they'd left their car. The Cafe was moderately busy when they arrived, but there were still a few tables open. A perky blonde waitress who gave her name as Maria seated them in a booth quickly and they were perusing their menus when they both felt a rare, but disquieting sensation that Methos had long since come to think of as "the baby buzz". His senses were telling him that there was a pre-Immortal nearby. Catching Cassandra's eye he saw that she'd picked up on it too. She was still pretending to study her menu while actively scanning her surroundings. Finally her gaze settled on a spot just over his left shoulder.

"Behind you I think," she murmured quietly. "Just coming through the front door."

Methos maintained an expression of studied indifference as someone walked past him to take a seat at the counter. He did a double take then looked back at Cassandra. "The skinny stripling?" he asked.

"That would be the one," she murmured.

He turned his eyes towards the future Immortal and studied him appraisingly. After a few minutes he turned his eyes back towards Cassandra who was watching him closely. Once his attention was on her she raised one eyebrow in a motion that said, 'Well?". He shook his head and said quietly, "You first."

Cassandra sighed. "He's very young, but the potential is there. He looks unatheletic at best, but that can be corrected. He has the height and the reach to be a good swordsman. And from the way he carries himself I'd say that his flexibility is way above average."

Methos chuckled, but nodded. Watching the young man at the counter he could see all that and one thing more. His body language was...odd. He had no idea of what secrets the boy's past might hold, but he carried himself like someone who had been "to the wars". His posture betrayed a self-contained watchfulness that was unmistakable to eyes with as much experience as those that watched him now. In Methos' experience, that kind of alertness didn't develop for no reason. And school yard antics, even in today's schools, wouldn't be enough to account for it. This boy had 'seen the elephant' at some time in his obviously short life and lived to tell of it. "Well lad," he thought. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you haven't seen anything...yet."

He was broken out his study of the nascent Immortal when one of Cassandra's feet reached out and nudged his sharply. Looking into her face he saw her eyes furtively move to his left. Returning to his perusal of the menu he made his choice, closed the menu and waited for the waitress to notice. Making a production of turning in his seat slightly he stretched his legs out in an indolent and relaxed manner. Looking at Cassandra he muttered conversationally, "Who was it?"

Cassandra smiled vacuously and answered in the same tone, "The boy in the letter jacket sitting with his back to the far wall."

Methos behaved as if she had said something funny and turned away chuckling. As he did so he ran his eyes over the opposite side of the restaurant. Bingo! Even if Cass hadn't fixed his position, Methos would have known. Even though there were *three* boys in letter jackets other there. He was the only one of the three that had that same 'I've been to the wars' body language as the boy at the counter! Curiouser and curiouser. This was just way too much coincidence. "Just what the hell happened in this little town to produce two kids like these?" he thought. "In an inner city school perhaps, but Roswell?" That they were connected was obvious. Why else would this kid be taking an interest in a total stranger based on that stranger's interest in the *first* boy?

The young man wasn't looking at him *now*, but he was tense. And, as Methos mimed a yawn, he caught the boy throwing a furtive glance in his direction. "Oh yes," he thought. "We've definitely attracted attention."

"Excuse me sir?" a soft husky voice said, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you ready to order."

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.


STILL YOURS - Part 10b
(Awakenings)

Looking upwards he found himself face to face with a lovely brunette whose looks bordered on the angelic. His first impression was shocked recognition. This made three kids with that same posture and set to their shoulders. If anything the girl's was even *more* pronounced! She was walking with her weight well forward as if her 'fight or flight' reflex was on what looked like a permanent yellow alert! On a hunch he glanced at the blonde that had seated them and felt his stomach twist. That made four. She was so pixie cute that he'd missed it at first glance. Just what the *hell* was going on in this town!?

"Sir?" that dulcet voice said again.

Looking up at her he saw concern in her face at his hesitation. But behind it was something else. A hint of soul killing sadness. Forcing himself into the moment he spoke, "I'm fine Miss, just reconsidering my selection." Turning towards Cassandra he said, "Ladies first m'dear."

Cassandra was torn between admiration and outrage. Admiration at his dissembling and outrage at the way in which he chose to do it. She was well aware that something was off in this little cafe, and she was looking forward to comparing notes with Methos. "I'll have a Will Smith with fries and a glass of iced tea. And I'd like that burger rare if you don't mind."

The girl looked back at Methos who smiled winningly. "Far be it for me to argue with my lady's choice." He held his face straight as Cassandra kicked him sharply under the table. "I'll have the same if you please?"

Their waitress finished jotting down their order and smiled...a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'll have the cook get this started, then I'll be back with your tea." With that she made a quick check of a few nearby tables before heading for the order window.

Once she was out of earshot Cassandra leaned forward and spoke casually. "Do you think that you could have chosen a different cover, other than letting people think that I'm your 'lady'?"

Methos shrugged. "It was the quickest cleanest way I could think of to make us look like the harmless tourists that we are, relatively speaking."

Cassandra gave a snort and looked like she was about to argue, but the waitress chose that moment to return with their drinks.

"Here you are" she said. "Two iced teas. Freshly brewed no less."

She was getting ready to leave when Methos spoke. "Excuse me Miss, what is you name, please?"

The girl looked uncertain. "My name is Liz," she said.

Methos smiled and said, "Hello Liz, my name is William Trent and this is my friend Sarah. Tell me Liz, do you see that boy at the counter? The tall slender lad with the short hair? Do you know him?"

Liz looked behind her, realized who Methos was talking about, and stiffened slightly.

"I was right!" he thought. "They know each other, which means that whatever it is that has them running scared is something that they have in common!"

"Y-yes," she answered. "I know him."

"Would his last name by any chance be Davis?" Methos asked. "My cousin George's boy Tommy attends ULV, and I would swear that's him! I was simply wondering what he was doing so far from school."

Cassandra chimed in. "Now now dear, what an awful thing to say! You know that George takes after *you*, and that young man, to his great good fortune, most certainly does *not*."

Liz spun, her fears forgotten, and stared at Cass uncertain that she had heard what she thought she had. Cassandra simply stared back, but her eyes were dancing.

Methos groaned. "Please dear, not in front of strangers?"

The waitress giggled, and for the first time her eyes showed a bit of life. "No sir. His name is Alex. Alex Whitman, and he's been my best friend for most of my life."

Methos chuckled. "Please call me William, Liz. Or Bill if you must, but not 'sir'. Calling *me* sir is like putting tennis shoes on a horse. They don't fit and they look ridiculous."

Liz laughed out loud at that drawing the attention of her blonde co-worker, Maria. Swinging by the table she bumped Liz's hip. "If you're through flirting the customers Chica, I just seated someone at table two."

Liz looked startled then bumped her back and made her apologies to 'William' and 'Sarah' before fleeing to care for her other customers.

And so it went for the rest of the meal. As it happened Liz was busy and it was Maria who brought them their food. What followed was a repeat of what had taken place with Liz. Methos working his charm and Cassandra playing the good natured slightly vacant girl friend. Cassandra was entranced as she watched him work his magic with the girls, using equal parts of kindness, humor, and sensitivity. It almost made her forget that some millennia back he would have likely raped them both by now, after killing everyone in the restaurant. Almost. The dichotomy between what he was now, and what he had been was never clearer to her than it was in that instant. And she began to think that, just possibly, he truly had changed. "But that doesn't change what he did to *me*," she thought. "Nothing will *ever* change that!"

When the meal was done, and they were outside in the car Methos didn't start the engine immediately. Instead he sat with his hands on the wheel, staring into the distance.

Cassandra sat watching him. Finally her impatience got the better of her and she said, "A denarius for your thoughts?"

Methos sighed. "Cass I realize that you hate me. And therefore, you're likely to argue with my every suggestion, and I can't fault you for it. I wish...." He stopped himself and sat silent for a moment, then he went on. "Do you think that you could put that aside long enough to do a little business here?"

Cassandra was flabbergasted. This was more honesty than she'd ever seen from the man. Completely disarmed she said, "What sort of business?"

Methos started the engine and backed out. Putting the car in gear he took them out of town at a leisurely speed. "I'd like to find a motel and set up camp for a few days. There's something odd going on here. Did you see how those kids were acting? The way they carried themselves? Like soldiers waiting for the inevitable shock of battle."

Cassandra nodded. "Or like a slave cringing before he even sees the whip. He knows that it's coming."

Methos winced at the comparison, but nodded just the same. "I'd like to stick around, in part to see if I can remedy whatever it is, and in part to keep an eye on young Mr. Whitman. Once we get a room I'm going to call Joe and talk to him. He and I were talking just last month about what we'd do if we ever lucked into a pre-Immortal before the change."

Cassandra had frowned. "What would that be?"

Methos looked at her and gave her a quirky half smile. "Why put a Watcher on him of course! No one has ever documented an Immortal's life before the change. It could be instructive, especially in one this young! In fact I may dust off old skills and do a little surveillance of my own until he can get someone here."

Cassandra, against her will and inclination, found herself smiling back. "The idea has a certain appeal." She paused. "Sure, why not? As you say, it could be interesting!"

Once they found a newer motel and had booked their rooms, Cassandra joined him in his room while Methos was placing his call on his cell phone. After a short conversation, Dawson had agreed with Methos assessment and promised that he could have someone in place by the day after tomorrow. After terminating the call Methos dug out his lap top, jacked into the motel's web connection, and began to do research.

"Well, well," he said. "Our not yet newbie has quite a cyber presence. Not just one web site, but several interlocking sites. Hmmm, science fiction, fantasy, music, free ware, shareware, games...all created by him." Methos clicked on an icon. "Oh my! Look at this!"

Cassandra wandered over to investigate and found herself looking at a page entitled, 'The Top Ten Grossest Food Items Of All Time'. A further menu at the bottom of the page revealed an extensive archive of past lists covering everything from cars to pets and from clothing to bad habits. She chuckled to herself. "If nothing else young Alex's sense of humor would appeal to Richie Ryan," she thought as she began to read. "Hmm," she muttered. "Raw liver, eyeballs (pick your species), fried brains, chocolate covered insects of any sort...." When she finished she nudged Methos. "Are you thinking the same thing that I am?"

Methos nodded. "I suspect so....if you're thinking that our young friend hasn't lived long enough or traveled far enough to have seen some of the things that people can and *do* eat on a regular basis, or what they're willing to eat when they have to."

Cassandra laughed softly. "If only you knew the things that *I* ate in the desert in the beginning," she thought, "back when I first escaped you and the Horsemen."

Cassandra hadn't been idle. While Methos had been perusing cyber space, she'd gone the old fashioned route and let her fingers do the walking. She had the Whitman's phone number and address from the phone book, which she passed to Methos before going back to the bed to consult one of the the small town maps they'd picked up in the motel office.

Methos copied a few files and shut down his laptop, the stood and stretched. "Believe it or not, the boy has some interesting ideas there. I copied some of his free ware over to play with later." He paused. "Do you think that you could drive me to a car rental agency and drop me off? We're going to be here at least twenty four hours or more. And, much as I love it, that Caddy tends to stand out too much."

Cass smirked. "Thinking of a nice nondescript mud colored sedan, are you?" Then she nodded and held out her hand. "I agree. The keys if you please? I'll get my purse out of my room and be with you in a moment."

The motel office directed them to a small rental agency at the county air field. The selection was thin, but since their requirements would be met by any unprepossessing piece of junk that would run and keep the rain out, Methos had their car and was back at the motel in an hour. Cassandra regarded the beat up Ford Tempo with some disgust. "When I said 'mud colored' I was only kidding!"

Methos chuckled. "Now now, it *isn't* mud colored. Closer to the color of a nice dark Dijon mustard I'd say."

Cassandra curled her lip. "Whatever the color is, it's repulsive. I'm not going to be seen in that in daylight!"

Methos was gathering up things in his room. His sword and duster, as well as a few odds and ends. "I wouldn't ask you to Cass. It may escape your notice, but on a surveillance the rule is to be inconspicuous. With your hair and looks, the only way that anyone could ignore you is if they were dead. You'd stand out as much as the Caddy would. And in the yech-mobile I'll be driving you'd look as out of place as a cow on roller-skates.....but much prettier." He paused to dip into a bag of new purchases he'd made on the way back to the motel. A stop at a local electronics store had yielded a pair of mid-range two way radios. He opened the packages, inserted the batteries and tested the units. These came with an ear piece and vibrated when they received a signal. Tossing one to Cassandra he said, "Emergency communications. You can reach me by cell, but if we both have to go out it might be helpful to be able to talk without using something that's quite so noisy."

Cassandra frowned. "So I just wait around here while you go out and play Watcher?" The idea had little appeal.

Methos shook his head. "You have the Caddy and the other map. Go exploring. Do some shopping. Be seen doing the tourist thing in *that* car. I won't be out all day. A few hours at most. This isn't a full out Watcher gig. I just want to familiarize myself with the neighborhood around the boy's home, and with the town at large. I could leave it for the regular Watcher to do, but a little leg work gives me an interest in things." Methos winked and headed for the door.

Cassandra had been swept along by his enthusiasm to this point, but decided she needed a parting shot to remind him of how things stood. "Well I'm not spending my *own* money to maintain *your* cover."

Methos froze, then turned with a Cheshire Cat grin. "My money belt is on the bed. It has copious amounts of cash, Travelers Checks, and my credit cards. I assume that you *can* forge my signature? Help yourself Cass. You've earned it simply by being patient this far. Spend yourself into a stupor." With that he was gone.

Cassandra stood there doing a slow burn. "That man is infuriating!" she thought. "I should have summoned my courage and cut his throat while he slept *before* I escaped his tent three and a half millennia ago!" Going to the bed she removed a substantial amount of cash and all the credit cards. If she had to play the spendthrift girl friend, there was no point in going halfway. Stuffing her plunder into her purse she smiled a feral smile and scooped up the Caddy's keys as she headed out the door. Oh yes....there was no point in going 'halfway' at all.

Roswell The Next Morning.....Six Months Previous....Plus One Day

Methos and Cassandra were taking the Caddy into Roswell to try the Crashdown's breakfast menu. The previous evening they'd spent killing time in their separate rooms. Methos had only done a quick once over on the haunts of Alex Whitman. The boy had arrived home before lunch and stayed home all day, being visited once by their two charming waitresses, and once by a takeout delivery boy. His parents were no where to be seen. It wasn't much information, but it was enough to lay the required ground work for the incoming Watcher. For her part Cassandra had taken Methos at his word, forging Adam Pierson's signature on charge card slips all over Roswell and it's immediate environs. For her, the crowning glory had been the bed. What appeared to be a lovely hand carved French Provincial that anyone, with seven thousand dollars to waste, would be proud to own. That is, until you looked closely at the carving and realized that you were seeing a UFO and bug-eyed alien motif. The boutique had promised to ship for a merely outrageous surcharge, and Cass had paid without a quiver. She was wishing that she could be there to see it delivered.

Pulling up at the Crashdown they went inside in relatively good spirits (albeit for vastly differing reasons), but stopped immediately inside the door. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. You don't get to be millennia old without having metaphorical nerve endings connected to your surroundings. And what they were both getting was a somber mood. Like there was a dirge playing that no one could hear. The place was empty and there were no waitresses in evidence, so they seated themselves and waited. After a few minutes they heard crying and the slamming of a door back in the kitchen area.

Their dark haired waitress from yesterday emerged from the back and looked around the cafe as if temporarily lost. When her gaze fell on them and she walked over to the serving window to address someone in the kitchen. Then she walked towards them. Cassandra studied her face. Yesterday there had been deep sorrow there, but old sorrow that had retreated to a dull ache. Today her face was impassive as a stone mask, but she had a new layer of pain over the old. Fresh. Raw. Like a still bleeding wound.

Liz's expression was glacial when she reached there table. "Can I help you?" she said mechanically and with no hint of recognition.

Methos opened his mouth to speak, but for once he was at a loss. Looking at Cassandra for help he watched as she reached out and took Liz's hand. "Child," she said, "what's the matter? What happened here?"

Liz focused on Cassandra's face and tried to speak, but her face crumpled and she broke for the back of the restaurant. Methos started to get up but Cassandra waved him down and followed Liz. Entering the kitchen she heard the sound of sobs from the break room. A throat cleared to her left, turning she saw a middle aged man wearing an apron.

"Can I help you?" he said.

Cassandra glanced in the direction of the break room and looked back at her questioner. "I was about to ask that question myself. I hate to butt in to something that may be none of my business, but my friend and I were in here yesterday. Something seems to have changed since then. Something worthy of tears. Something that causes a pretty young girl to flee rather than talk. Can we help?"

The man sighed, and seemed to age before her eyes. It was the age old burden of a parent's love. "I'm Jeff Parker, the owner. That would be my daughter Lizzie that just ran through here." Jeff sighed again. "There's really nothing you can do that I or my wife haven't done already. She and Maria have what they need right now, and that's each other. The two of them and Alex have been tight friends since grade school."

Cassandra paused. "I beg your pardon? Did you say Alex?"

Jeff nodded sadly. "Yes, that would be Alex Whitman. He was driving his parents' mini van last night when he was in a head on collision with a tractor trailer rig out on Route 70. He was killed instantly the sheriff said." Jeff paused and looked around at the kitchen as if noticing it for the first time. "I probably shouldn't have opened the place up today. My wife and I always thought of Alex as one of our own, and most of my staff are teenagers that knew Alex and cared about him to varying degrees. So I'll be shorthanded all day. But I can take your order now if you want. It's just that the service may be a little spotty."

Cassandra raised her hands in negation. "No no, we don't want to be a bother." Then seeing the pained look on Jeff Parker's face she relented. "Let me get my friend and we'll move up to the counter so that we're closer to the kitchen. You cook, I'll serve. Will that do?"

Jeff smiled. "Do a good job and I might just hire you for the day."

Cassandra gave a half-hearted grin. "I'll be right back." Then she walked back out front and rapidly to the table. She leaned over Methos and whispered. "You can call Joe and cancel that Watcher. Alex Whitman was killed in a car wreck last night. The whole place is in mourning. The owner is Liz's father and he insists on feeding us, so let's make it look good. Come with me." Cassandra pulled an unresisting Methos to his feet and led him up to the counter near the kitchen. Making a quick check of the menus they settled on a simple meal of alien themed omelets and toast with juice and coffee. Jeff Parker took their order through the window and began cooking. No one had started the coffee maker so Cassandra undertook to get it going after pouring their juice.

The coffee was just beginning to brew when they heard the kitchen door. Liz and Maria emerged from the back looking much the worse for wear. Liz gave Cass a half hearted smile and gently shooed her to the other side of the counter. When their breakfast was ready Liz served them and then went out to the tables to help Maria make sure that everything was set up for the day.

Both Methos and Cassandra kept stealing glances at the girls. They were moving slowly, as if in a daze, operating on auto-pilot. Methos had seen this so many times that he couldn't begin to count them. The first stages of grief. He wished that he could comfort them. Tell them that it would be okay, that their friend wasn't dead. He sighed deeply. It was not to be. It couldn't be. It wouldn't be safe for them, nor would it be safe for Alex Whitman the new born Immortal.

Methos and Cassandra finished their breakfast quickly and beat a hasty retreat, but not before Methos dropped a one hundred dollar bill on the counter. As they walked out the girls were still working. Cassandra motioned Methos ahead. He went on out to the car as Cass walked over to where the girls were going through the motions of working. Setting an resetting the place settings, checking and rechecking the condiment containers.

Taking each of them by the hand she spoke to Liz. "Your father told us."

Liz nodded jerkily swallowing, and Maria looked to be ready to bolt at any second.

Cassandra sighed and spoke again. ""Still.""

Both girls froze.

Cassandra reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Liz's face then used her thumb to remove a tear from Maria's cheek. "Grief should not be allowed to mar such youth and beauty," she thought. Then she continued aloud. ""Hear my voice children. You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than this. Be of good heart, for your friend may be gone from you, but he is safe. I will see to it, I promise you. Remember me not, only remember that Alex is safe. And that as long as you hold him in your hearts, he cannot die. Let your grief go, for your pain does not serve his love for you well. Remember him with love."" Cass gave them both a kiss on the cheek and turned towards the door. Just before she exited she turned and spoke.

""Release.""

Both girls stumbled briefly and looked at each other. What had just happened?

"Liz, are you okay?" Maria asked.

Liz nodded as she looked out the window and saw their customers getting into their car. Customers? She remembered the man vaguely, but not the woman. Blinking she shook her head to clear it. Then she remembered. Alex was dead. She waited for the pain to strike, but was surprised that it struck so lightly. Somehow she knew that Alex was okay. That he would be okay. Looking at Maria he saw her undergoing a similar shift in emotions. Liz recalled being devastated last night and this morning. But now it was like she'd gotten her second wind. Enough to begin thinking beyond the fact that Alex was dead....and start thinking about *how* he had died. Her eyes narrowed as she began to speculate. She didn't like where her thoughts were taking her. And neither would Max.

Hearing a gasp from Maria she turned to where Maria stood at the counter. She had gone there to start clearing the debris from someone's meal. Now she was standing absolutely frozen looking at something in her hand. "Maria?" Liz inquired. "What is it?" Wordlessly Maria raised what she was holding to where Liz could see it. A one hundred dollar bill. For breakfast? Liz turned to dash outside and stop their departing customers, but it was too late. They were gone.

"What do we do?" Maria asked.

Liz smiled. "We give it to my dad and, if they don't come back claiming that it was an error, we split it."

Maria smiled faintly. "It works for me." She walked over and handed the bill to Liz. "Speaking of work Chica, we'd better get to it. The churches will be letting out soon, and the rush will come with it."

Liz gave her a hug. "Ever the practical girl. Start setting up the fountain and I'll go see dad about this," she waved the cash, "then I'll be out to help you." Pausing she hugged Maria again. "It's going to be okay. I don't know how I know, but it's going to be okay."

Maria nodded. "I know Chica. We'll get through this."

Both girls went on about the morning's business, unaware that they'd been face to face with two living relics of history....and just incidentally a big piece of Alex's destiny. As well as their own future.

Roswell 1:00 AM Wednesday Morning.......Six Months Previous...Plus Three Days....

Cassandra was jumpy. She was sitting in their rental car, parked on a disused side road near Roswell Municipal Cemetery. Methos had left her there three hours ago to reconnoiter the cemetery. The funeral had been in the late afternoon to allow Alex's school mates to attend. It seemed that one of them was having a tough time letting go. Because Methos had reported through their two way radios that there was still someone at the grave site. Cassandra was on the verge of storming into the cemetery and laying a good dose of Voice on whoever it was.

They'd waited patiently for this. Watching the obituaries and counting the days. Alex's reported injuries had been extreme, which meant that their real extent was probably much more severe. Combined with the damage that the post-mortem had probably done and the effects of modern embalming, it would take him a while to regenerate and recover. It should be tonight at the earliest. If they didn't get him tonight that would mean leaving him trapped alive in a coffin underground until tomorrow night. Having been in that position herself, it's nothing that should wish on her worst enemy. Not even on....Methos.

Cassandra sighed at the ambivalence of her feelings for the man. The man who'd taken her into bondage in the late Bronze Age was inarguably a sadistic monster of the first order. But from all appearances he no longer existed in the here and now. The question that plagued her was, did he sleep within the gentle civilized man she'd spent the last two weeks with? Or was this individual the awakened man that had been at the core of the monster? Did the monster only sleep? Or was he dead? Slain by the gentle soul that appeared to take his place and wear his face? She shook herself sharply as the ear piece from the radio hissed in her ear.

"You awake Cass?" came the question.

"I'm as awake as I was the LAST time you asked that question!" she snapped back. "Still no action?"

"That's what I was calling to tell you, she's leaving," came the reply.

Cassandra frowned. "She? Was it Liz or Maria?"

"No," the radio whispered. "She's too tall, and too...well there'd be no mistaking her for anything but a girl. Not even in *dim* light. She just got into a jeep that was parked near a clump of trees and drove right past where I was hiding near the main gate. You're between her and the town. Assuming she's a townie, you should be seeing the glare of her lights any minute."

Sure enough there was a brief flare of light out towards the main road, indicating that a car had passed. The first one since Methos had left her parked there. "Okay, I saw her. She just passed me headed towards Roswell."

Methos responded. "Come on then. I'm going to the cemetery garage to hot wire the back hoe. We've got to work quickly. There's a storm coming in. Come through the main gates and use the key I had made to lock them behind you. Hopefully that will keep anyone who's nosy out long enough for us to get the job done."

Now that they were in the clear Cass wasted no time. Tramping on the accelerator she caused a small rooster tail of dust and gravel to spray from under the car. Reaching the main road she made the turn and negotiated the two hundred feet to the cemetery entrance in only seconds. Turning into the entrance she jumped out and closed the seldom locked gates. Reaching through the bars she used the heavy key to lock the gates. The caretaker would never know the favor that Methos had done him. When they had first conceived this plan, the ever meticulous Methos had gone out that night and checked the cemetery. Realizing that locking the gate was a must he'd secured a key from the caretaker's shack and had a copy made. At the same time he'd oiled the long unused locks on the gates to insure that they were in working order. Nothing had been left to chance.

As the lightening of an approaching thunderstorm began to strobe, she jumped back into their rental and raced for the burial site. Though she'd never been there, Methos had. It was a small cemetery, and she had explicit directions. By the time she stopped on the service road near the grave, Methos was already driving the back hoe towards the graveside. Cass got out of the car and opened the trunk, retrieving two shovels, a powerful portable light, and a length of heavy chain. All the tools were courtesy of a fast drive that Methos had made back to Santa Fe. The same trip had yielded the heavy boots, coveralls, and work gloves that they were both wearing.

By the time Cassandra had finished the walk to the grave Methos already had the back hoe in position, lowered it's stabilizers, and begun to dig. She leaned on Alex's headstone as she watched him dig with deliberate haste. The soft recently disturbed earth was easy to move. So it was only ten minutes before the bucket scraped across the top of the concrete vault encasing the casket. Cassandra jumped down into the grave and tested the situation with a shovel. There were only a few inches of soil left over the vault cap. She looked up at Methos and nodded. Seeing her nod Methos swung the bucket over the grave and put the 'hoe in idle.

Cassandra was already digging when Methos joined her, shovel in hand. Together they dug frantically working against time. Not only to get the job done before someone happened upon them, but to beat the approaching storm, whose lightening was increasing. Cassandra cleared her end of the vault and paused to look up at the Western sky as branching fingers of lightening danced across it, bringing a grumble of thunder. She chuckled aloud.

Methos was still digging but managed to grunt out, "What's so funny?"

Cassandra laughed louder. "The setting. The weather. The mission. All combining to give me the sudden urge to call you 'Igor'."

Methos gave a snort. "Wouldn't 'Renfield' be more appropriate?"

Methos dragged the heavy chain into the hole with them and looped it over the bucket of the back hoe. Using the hook on the end of the chain he completed the loop. Then he repeated the process with the recessed handle on the vault top. That job done he gave Cass a boost out of the grave before climbing out himself. A glance at his watch showed twenty minutes elapsed. Not too bad. Calling a break, he and Cass shared a flask of water from the small back pack he'd been carrying.

Cassandra paused taking a deep breath. Surveying their handiwork she wiped her damp brow with her sleeve, leaving a smudge of dirt. "Tell me again why we couldn't just snatch him from the coroner?" she said.

Methos chuckled. "Because vanished bodies are mysteries. Which lead to open case files. Which might lead to nosy fools trying to solve them. Trust me, it's better for the boy this way. Even if it does mean that we risk a bit more and sweat a bit more." Handing Cass the water bottle he climbed back into the operator's saddle on the 'hoe. Starting the engine he gently nursed the control lever, lifting the bucket and pulling the lid free of the concrete vault. Then, after idling the engine down he joined Cass in climbing down into the hole.

Standing on opposite sides they clearly see the lid of the coffin illuminated by the beam of Cassandra's lantern. They couldn't hear clearly over the noise of the idling engine. But there was nothing wrong with their eyes. The lid was rattling slightly.

Methos sighed. They'd called it close enough. Alex was awake. And, no doubt, scared to death. Not exactly what he wanted to deal with right then. Reaching down he released the latch on the coffin lid and it flew open to reveal one very frightened young man.

Alex Whitman pulled himself out of his coffin with desperate haste, as if escaping the clutches of hell itself. In his confusion he began to try and scramble out of the hole, completely ignoring Methos and Cassandra.

Methos took hold of his shoulder and tried to speak to him. "Alex, just hang on a minute, I'll help you...." He was cut off as the terrified boy swung at him. All at once Methos had a wildcat on his hands. And with the uneven footing they both promptly slipped and fell. Landing in the bottom of the hole Alex wailed and continued to struggle.

Cassandra sighed, and hefting one of the shovels, brought it down on Alex's head with a metallic "BONK!" Alex promptly collapsed.

Methos extricated himself from beneath the unconscious boy and sighed. "Not the worst reaction I've ever seen, but definitely in the top ten." He winced and muttered as he rubbed a sore spot on the side of his head wear he'd cracked his skull against a rock projecting from the side of the hole during his struggle with Alex.

The oncoming storm was beginning to make itself felt as the flash effect of the lightening increased moment by moment, illuminating the landscape in an eerie fashion. As the wind picked up and drops of rain began to fall here and there, Methos boosted Cassandra out of the hole. He then lifted an unconscious Alex high enough that she could slide her hands under his armpits, and between the two of them they heaved the unconscious boy out of the hole. Methos then kicked the coffin lid closed and tossed their tools out of the hole.

Climbing aboard the back hoe he slowly lowered the vault lid back into place, carefully jiggling it until it settled with a dull 'clunk'. With that done he climbed down once more and disconnected the chain before beginning to hurriedly back fill the now empty grave. With that completed he drove the 'hoe back to it's parking spot in the garage and locked it up. With any luck at all the oncoming downpour would be heavy enough to erase any traces of their late night activities.

Cassandra had gotten Alex into a shoulder carry and gotten him back to the car. Once there she dipped into her 'travel kit' of herbal compounds and administered a soporific that would keep the slender boy out for some hours. Hopefully by then they would be far away. Then she carefully and clinically stripped him of his burial clothes and managed to dress him in some all purpose sweats that they'd brought along, before depositing him in the back seat. Leaving Alex asleep in the car she had retrieved their gear and stowed it in the trunk. By the time Methos got back she had the motor running. It amused her to no end that he had to cover the last hundred feet at a dead run as the clouds of the long threatened storm opened and unleashed a downpour of biblical proportions. Once he was in the car she drove through the rain and mist to the cemetery gate. Turning to Methos she simply handed him the key to the gate lock. When he sat there looking from her, to the key, and back again she shrugged and said, "There's no point in *both* of us looking like drowned rats tonight."

Methos grumbled but got out of the car and stoically marched up to the gate and unlocked it, being careful to leave it standing open exactly as they'd found it. By the time he got back in the car he did indeed resemble the aforementioned drowned rat, but Cass diplomatically ignored it.

Once they reached the motel they took advantage of the darkness and rain to move Alex and their gear over to the Cadillac. They had already packed most of their belongings before setting out on their rescue mission earlier that night, leaving only the bare essentials to shower and clean up before leaving. Once they were ready the rain was still heavy, but it had slacked off enough that they could leave without getting drenched. Driving the Caddy Cassandra followed Methos to the rental agency where he left the rental's keys along with a hefty tip in the night drop box. By 3:00 AM they were on the road drinking strong coffee with double cream and sugar from a thermos that Cass had purchased on her 'shopping trip', and had filled at the coffee shop next to the motel. By the time the sun rose they'd left New Mexico far behind.

Both Methos and Cassandra realized that they were taking Alex into the unknown. But they had no clue that, before a year had passed, he would return the favor. With interest compounded.

End of Part 10

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.


STILL YOURS - Part 11a
(Divergence)

On I-25 North In Colorado.....Six Months Ago Plus Three Days...Sunrise

Even though they were well into Southern Colorado, they had no intention of stopping that day, short of Wyoming. Thus they still had at least two days of driving ahead. And a newbie to educate. Methos dozed in the passenger's seat while Cassandra drove. Even with her sun glasses, she was intensely glad that they were moving NorthWest, away from the glare of the rising sun. Casting a glance in his direction she was once again bothered the fact that it was getting harder to summon the clear burning hatred that she'd nurtured for him for so long. "If familiarity breeds contempt, can it also breed forgiveness I wonder?" she thought.

Idly craning her neck to glance over the back seat she saw their new charge sleeping peacefully. Turning aback around she paused frowning. His position has shifted since the last time she'd looked! She began looking for a place to pull off. "Alex?" she said softly. "I know you're awake. And probably scared to death, aren't you?"

There was silence from the back seat for a moment then a voice hissed, "Understatement of the year lady! Just who are you working for?"

"Why would he think that we were working for anyone?" she wondered silently. "If we're working *for* someone, that someone would be you," she said aloud. Spotting an abandoned gas station surrounded by a few trees she pulled off and drove over the fallen barriers blocking the parking lot entrances.

The changes in acceleration and the uneven bumps in the decaying macadam of the parking lot woke Methos. "What's happening? Why are we pulling off?

Pulling to a stop among the trees behind the vandalized station she nodded towards the back. "Alex is awake, and I imagine he'd like some answers, posthaste. Don't you?"

As soon as the car stopped rolling the back door flew open and Alex jumped out. He started to run, but Methos was ready for it and tackled him before he'd made it ten yards. Alex began to fight back, savagely. But Methos eventually gained the upper hand and got an arm lock on him. He lay there panting as Alex continued to struggle uselessly. As he went on fighting in vain, Methos finally lost patience and shouted, "Knock it off Alex! All you're doing is hurting yourself!" Finally Alex's will seemed to collapse and he lay there limply. "Now," Methos said in a reasonable tone, "can we talk without you bolting like a frightened rabbit?" He felt the boy stiffen again. Good! By impugning Alex's courage, perhaps he'd made an impression. Slowly and carefully he released his hold and sat up.

Alex took advantage his freedom to roll away out of reach before sitting up. But, to his credit, he didn't run. Glaring at his 'captors' he snarled, "Just what the hell is going on? Where am I? What do you want with me? Where's that bitch Tess? And just who the HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE!?"

"My, but that's a lot of questions," a feminine voice said.

Turning towards the car Alex saw the woman who had been driving, and who had spoken to him first. This was his first sight of her face. His forebrain seized up instantly. The over all impression was one of exotic good looks complimented by a self-confidence that bordered on the sublime. Coupled with the high cheek bones, almond hazel/green eyes, strong chin, and red hair the impression delivered was one of strength. Too much strength to be called pretty. No, this woman leapt straight past pretty and into drop dead beautiful. Alex was tongue tied.

Sensing the source of his temporary silence, and being flattered by it she glanced at Methos, who shrugged Gallic style.

Alex realized that his staring and silence were telegraphing his thoughts and emotions, and he began to blush. The woman laughed merrily, and the man who'd tackled him spoke in a comforting tone. "Don't let it get to you son. She has that effect on most men. I should know." This drew a strange glance from his female companion, something between fear and wonder it looked like.

Alex sighed as he began to get himself under control. He had other worries at the moment without dealing with whatever emotional subtext his captors had going. Looking the woman straight in the eye he spoke. "Yes, those were a lot of questions. And unless you want to have to run me down every time you turn your back, you'll answer them. But, for now, let's start with something simple. What are your names?"

The woman smiled and nodded. "My name is Cassandra." She waved a hand in the direction of the man. "His name would be Methos. As for the rest of your questions, what do you remember?"

Cassandra watched Alex's eyes as they narrowed in thought. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind. It appeared that he was trying to decide what and how much to tell them. "Oh my, not even eighteen years old yet, and you already have a past?" she thought. His face cleared. He had apparently made his choice.

Alex grimaced. "I remember being at a girl's house." he paused then continued, stumbling a bit over his next few words. "I'd..caught her....doing something...wrong...to me. Then I remember coming too in a dark confined space. I was there for what felt like forever. I yelled. I pleaded. I screamed myself hoarse. No one heard me. I think that I lost it there for a while. When I heard noises outside, I was certain that it was my imagination. Then I heard louder noises. Scraping sounds. By then I was too scared to even make a sound, for fear that it wasn't real. It was stifling where I was. I started struggling to get out again. Then the cover was lifted away and...." He frowned. "YOU two were *there*!" He pointed at Methos. "I fought with you! And...and...," he glared at Cassandra, "YOU *hit* me! Didn't you?!"

Cassandra grinned and nodded. "With a shovel. I apologize, but you were out of control. And we were in a hurry. We had to get you out of there, fill in your grave, and get out of town without getting caught."

Alex looked at her blankly. "My....grave?"

Methos nodded. "Yes...as in cemetery and dead. A grave."

Alex looked skeptical. "Someone buried me alive?" Inside he was thinking furiously. "Kheerist! I knew that Tess was a bitch, but that seems to be a little over the top. Even for her! And anyway...why not just kill me and be done with it?" he thought.

Methos sighed. "Er, not quite," he said. Looking at Cassandra he said,"It's demo time I think."

Cassandra nodded. "The buzz first I think. He's not even a day old so his range can't be more than fifty feet." Reaching into the car and grabbing their two way radios she checked their frequencies, then tossed one to Methos. "I'll be right back." Cassandra walked away around the corner of the station and out of sight.

Alex glanced at Methos, nonplused. "What are you two talking about? Where's she going? And what's 'the buzz'?"

Methos smiled. "Be patient, you'll see. She'll be back in just a minute."

After a few minutes the radio began to vibrate in his hand. Twisting the volume to maximum he unplugged the earpiece and spoke into the radio. "Yeah Cass?"

Her voice came out loudly enough for Alex to here it. "I walked all the way out to the highway, just to be certain I was out of range. I'm starting back now." She paused. "Just for the sake of interest, I'll come back slowly. Give me a call when it hits."

Alex frowned and thought, "What the hell are they talking abou....." Just then the creepiest feeling of his life hit him. He sat up alertly and looked around. It was like the chills and an mild electric shock at the same time.

Methos had been watching him closely and keyed the radio.

Cassandra answered immediately. "Yes?

Methos chuckled. "Houston, we have liftoff. What was the range?"

Cassandra was silent a moment, no doubt estimating the distance. "Maybe one hundred and twenty feet. Most impressive for a newbie."

Methos gave a low whistle in agreement and looked at Alex appraisingly. That was VERY impressive indeed! He'd known newbies that had almost no sense of other Immortals at all for the first year of their new existence. They generally didn't last too long. But this kid had better than twice the norm! *Very* impressive!

Cassandra came back around the corner and tossed her radio back in the car. Methos tossed his to her and it followed hers onto the driver's seat.

Alex was sitting up alertly, looking back and forth between the two of them. "What the hell just happened? What was that?! What did you two *do* to me?

Methos scrubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. He stood and walked over to an old tree stump and settled on it. He regarded Alex for a long moment then he spoke. "Alex, we did some research on you. Am I right in assuming that you're a math, high tech, and science sort of man?"

Alex looked suspicious, but nodded.

Methos smiled faintly. "Okay then I'm going to lay out the situation for you. You see if you can guess your position in it. Ready for a trip into the Twilight Zone?"

Alex snorted. "Been there, done that," he thought sardonically. But he gestured for Methos to continue anyway.

Methos took a deep breath and began. "Let's imagine a hypothetical group of people. They live within the larger population of humanity, blending in, unseen. They've been there for a very long time. But they aren't, strictly speaking, human. They look like it, they act like it, they feel like it....but they aren't." He paused, looking at Alex, and was unprepared for the barely suppressed laughter that showed on the boy's face. Puzzled, he asked, "What?"

Alex, still shaking with silent laughter, just shook his head. "Sorry," he said contritely, "it's just an inside joke among friends...that's all." Then he gestured. "Go ahead."

Methos sighed. This kid had more facets to him than than a marquis cut diamond. "Okay, here's the bottom line. These people come into the world from, we know not where. No trace of biological parents of any sort can be found. They grow up and appear normal, until they die. It's amazing how many of them die violently." Methos paused, glancing at Alex to see how he was taking it. All he saw was polite interest, so he hurried on. "In any event, they don't stay dead. They come back. And ever afterwards they don't age. They're effectively immortal. They can sense one another through what they call 'the buzz'." Methos smiled sympathetically at Alex and said, "That's a pretty creepy feeling that I don't think I need to describe to you....now do I?"

Alex was silent. Alex sat without saying a word for so long that Methos and Cassandra began to get concerned. Methos reached out and nudged the boy gently. "Alex? Say something,"

Alex came back to himself and glared. "Prove it," he said.

Methos couldn't resist playing a bit. "Prove what?" he asked in mock innocence.

Alex's glare intensified. "Methos, I'm not stupid. I trust my senses and I can add two and two. I can see where I 'fit in'. Or rather, where you think that I do. So, prove to me that you are what you say you are. That I am what you say I am!"

Cassandra frowned. "You're being awfully blasé' about this, Alex. Is here any particular reason for that?"

Alex shrugged. "Let's just say that this isn't the first time that life has thrown me a curve of the 'Twilight Zone' variety, and let it go at that."

Methos looked curious. "And you wouldn't care to explain what you mean by that?"

Alex grinned with a touch of malice. "No. Now, I believe we were discussing proof?"

Methos sighed heavily and stood up. Striding over to the Caddy he open the trunk and reached up towards the back seat. He came up with his sword in its scabbard. Taking the weapon he walked over to Cassandra and offered her the hilt. Cass blinked and hesitated, then she grasped the hilt and freed the sword from it's scabbard with a practiced yank. Methos stepped back and waved Alex forward. "Please examine it," he invited. "Satisfy yourself that it's the real thing."

Alex walked gingerly over to the still open trunk. Scanning it he spotted a bundle of rags in the right wheel well that a suspicious resemblance to his good suit. Whatever it was, it was all cut up now. Grabbing a piece of shirt he walked back over to Cassandra and dragged the fabric along the edge of the sword blade. It parted cleanly. That was a real blade all right!

Alex spoke. "Okay, I'm happy, it's real. Now what?"

In answer, Methos reached out and slid the palm of his right hand along the blade, slicing his hand cleanly. Blood trickled down the blade from his hand. Then he held his hand up so that Alex could see it clearly. As Alex watched a faint blue energy flickered along the edges of the wound and it closed up. Methos took the remains of the shirt from Alex and used it to wipe the residual blood away. There was no wound. No scar. No trace of a cut at all. Alex looked bemused.

Methos smiled. "Now for the second part of the act. He removed his shirt and stepped out into the open, gesturing Cassandra towards him. Then he stood relaxed and passive, with his hands at his sides, and waited. Cass was shivering inside. She'd seen this coming, but now that it was here..she didn't know what to do with it. This had been her fantasy for thousands of years. A defenseless Methos, and she with a sword in her hand. She controlled her shivering and stepped forward. She studied Methos' face, but it betrayed nothing. She stepped closer and spoke softly. "You old fool, do you realize the risk you're taking with me? I could take your Quickening now, and be done with it!"

Methos smiled and nodded. "Not that much risk, you're basically a good and decent person Cass. And besides, either way, our new protégé gets his proof."

Cassandra's eyes narrowed. This was.....it was almost like he had a death wish. Immortals as old as the both of them are generally immune to such stupidity and fatalism. "What are you up to old man? It's not like you to take chances like this."

Methos closed his eyes and his face seemed to age before her eyes. When his eyes re-opened she could see written in them....pain, sorrow, and weariness. "Cass, I love you," he said in a frank admission. "I always have. Even thirty seven hundred years ago when I was a weakling, a coward, and a sadistic bully. I lacked the strength to be the man I should have been. The ennui of our long lives had me firmly in it grasp. And I hated you for showing me that side of myself. You did it. You did it by simply existing. And so I set out to hurt you. Thoroughly, methodically ,and with consummate care. But in the end, you won. You planted the seeds of my rebirth when I found that I could not bear to surrender you to Kronos like....like some *play thing*, but I was too weak to fight for you and too cowardly too flee with you. So I 'encouraged' you to escape."

Cassandra was shaking in earnest now. This was more naked honesty than she'd ever expected from him, or from any man. And it was scaring her to death. "That's all well and good," she hissed, "but it changes *nothing*. I was your slave. Your play thing. I lost track of how many times you killed me in an effort to terrorize me!"

Methos nodded. "Yes, I did all that, and more. And I'm sorry. Sorry beyond all measure. More and more lately I've found myself wishing that you had killed me before you escaped my tent that night. You need what modern society calls closure. We both need it. I would prefer that we both be alive to enjoy it. But either way, *you* must have it. This has crippled you for over three and a half millennia. I think that's long enough. I meant it when I said that I love you. And, in the end, I can live without you loving me back. I can even live with your hatred if need be. But what I *cannot* live with anymore is watching you drag the burden of *my* sins around with you, like you were the ghost of Jacob Marley with his chains. So I kill two birds with one stone. I give us the closure we need, and our young man gets the proof that he needs. One way or the other. As the condemned, I do however, have a last request."

Cassandra's ears were buzzing, and from far away she heard herself ask, "What is it?"

Cass was holding the sword one handed. Methos reached out and took her free hand. Then, bringing it up to join the other hand gripping the sword hilt, he firmly clasped both hands in his. It was a benediction, as if he was affirming her right to do what she needed to do. "That, no matter what you do, no matter what happens, someday you'll find in in your heart to forgive me." He sighed and stepped back. "I prepared for this before we left Seattle. I left a letter with my lawyer to be delivered to Duncan in the event of my death, stating that I would be looking for an opportunity to....finish things between us. It absolves you entirely."

She studied his face for a long time. So long that he stirred uncomfortably and said..."Our young friend is waiting Cass."

Cassandra winced in pain. It wasn't his words that did it. It was the shattering of old chains on her soul. She'd been so accustomed to their weight and presence that their departure was almost agonizing. She was unable to say anything so she simply nodded and stepped back, brought the sword up, and wasting no time she gave a hoarse cry and lunged. Methos gasped as the sword entered his chest cleanly. His eyes rolled up as his knees began to buckle. With a cry she jerked the sword free and caught him before he could collapse, easing his weight to the ground.

Alex had been watching all this time with some confusion. His erstwhile captors had been talking quietly, but with considerable intensity for several minutes. He had no idea what was at issue between the two of them, but love was obviously involved. In a way their behavior reminded him of Max and Liz. The two of them with serious issues to resolve, but both were unable to bring themselves to take the first step. "If that's the case here," he thought, "then I think that I've just seen the first step." Thus he was shocked when Cassandra had stepped back and run Methos through the chest with the sword she was holding.

Alex leapt to his feet with a shouted, "HEY!" He sprinted over to where Cassandra was now sitting on the ground beside Methos' body. "Lady, are you out of your mind?!" he panted out.

Dry eyed Cassandra looked in his direction, finally focusing on him. She shrugged. "You said that you understood what he was saying, and that you needed proof. We just gave it to you. 'Death' is, generally speaking, a relative thing for us. We don't seek it, or enjoy it, but in the end we can shrug it off. There is only one way for us to die forever, and that involves losing your head. Literally. As it is, he'll be on his feet in a few minutes."

Alex's eyes narrowed and he nodded at Methos. "Let's be clear about this. What you're telling me is that I was dead, and now I'm not. I'm one of you? And that like him, or you, I can shrug off death? Short of, if I understand you, decapitation?"

Cassandra nodded. "Yes. And don't leave out eternal youth."

Alex looked quizzical. "Just how eternal would that be?"

Cassandra laughed. "Just how eternal you need it to be? At three thousand seven hundred years, I was already old when Imperial Rome was a collection of huts at a bend in the Tiber." Cassandra smiled down at Methos and brushed a lock of hair back from his waxy still face. "And Methos is older than I, the eldest of us. Over five thousand years. Do either of us look elderly to you?"

Alex sighed. "Okay, I can deal. But, and forgive me if I'm being nosy, what is with this weird subtext that you two have going?"

Cassandra looked pained, but shrugged. "Let's just say it's an old grudge that I had against him. One that goes back thousands of years." She nodded at Methos. " If you want to know more, ask *him*. For me the matter is over, and I want to forget it!"

At that moment, with a deep gasp, Methos sat up and looked around. His first words were, "Well I'll be damned."

Cassandra knew exactly what he meant. He hadn't expected to wake up at all.

Alex was startled and fell back on his rump. Pulling himself up into a squat he watched as Cassandra took the rag from Methos and used it to wipe away the blood on his chest. Again, there was no mark. No visible scar of any sort. Alex stood and walked a short distance away. Then he turned and spoke. "Okay, you exist. You're for real. It therefore follows that everything that you said is true." He paused. "Now, tell me why I'm here."

Methos chuckled. "In the ordinary sense? Or the metaphysical sense?"

Cassandra moved sharply, planting an elbow in his ribs. "Don't be a wise arse. He deserves answers!" She looked at Alex. "Believe it or not, this is random chance. If you live long enough as an Immortal you can sense those that are going to become Immortals, but who haven't made the leap through death yet. We happened to be in Roswell on a road trip when we spotted you. We were going to hang around for a few days to keep an eye on you until someone else showed up to take the job full time. Then you died. And we couldn't just abandon you. So we waited until the funeral was past...and then we dug you out."

Alex sat back and stared off into space. "So I was really dead? How long?"

"Three days going on four," Methos answered.

Alex shook his head. "I don't buy it. You were out for only a few minutes."

Methos shrugged. "I was simply run through with a sword. *You* on the other hand were in a car wreck...head on with a semi no less, worked over in an autopsy, and subjected to modern embalming techniques. It takes a while to come back from all that. Even for one of *us*. As it was, we cut it too close. You were already awake in your coffin. God only knows how long *that* was."

Alex sat there staring at the two of them. They could see the thoughts flickering behind his eyes. They saw what they were looking for. Realization. Naked horror. And belief. He believed them because, at that moment, the events of the last few days caught up with Alex he was instantly and violently ill. He crawled away and gave up the sparse contents of his stomach to the underbrush. Cassandra crawled over to him and supported him, trying to soothe him a bit. Once his spasms eased he was weak, but he was strong enough to accept a drink of water from the bottle that Methos retrieved from the Caddy.

"I can't remember everything," he said hoarsely, "but I know this...I was murdered. I had to have been. The last thing I remember...." His voice trailed off. "I have to go back! You have to take me back! The...girl. This girl must have been the one behind my death. She had to be! I can't leave her there with my friends!"

Both Methos and Cassandra shook their heads. "The best thing that you can do now is stay dead," Methos said. "If someone really did murder you, then it's the best thing for you to let them think that they succeeded. It's best for our safety as well. You showing up alive could attract unwanted official attention on our existence. This is generally considered by the larger community of Immortals as a bad thing."

Alex froze. It cut both ways, though Cass and Methos couldn't know that. Official attention. Those were the last words in the world that he wanted to see applied to Roswell. To hell with the Immortals. Literally the last thing on Earth that Max, Michael, and Isabel needed is one of *their* friends returning from the dead. Even if it wasn't their doing. It would make the flap over Liz's healing look penny ante by comparison. They were right. He had to stay away.

Cassandra picked it up. "We're taking you to Seattle. We and a few others like us live there. There's a friend of ours living there that excels at teaching new Immortals like you the ropes. A four hundred plus year old Scotsman name of Duncan. You can't show your face around Roswell, ever again. And, while we aren't under *immediate* scrutiny, neither can we. But if you make your pitch to Duncan, he'll look into it once the furor surrounding your death dies down a bit. She paused for breath. "You know, the first time we laid eyes on you was on Saturday, and the morning after your 'accident' we were in that little cafe where we first saw you."

Alex spoke in a monotone. "The Crashdown?"

Cassandra nodded. "The whole place was in mourning. You were dead. You are dead. People have seen you dead. You can't go back." Seeing Alex's face beginning to harden she changed her tack. "Look at it this way. We're old enough to have a lot of experience with murderers, and unless this girl is the serial killer type, she's laying low hoping her crime goes undiscovered. Hurting one of your friends could definitely blow her cover. She won't be doing anything for a while. So there's no rushing urgency to get on her trail."

Of course Cassandra was thinking in terms of murder and mayhem. But there are other ways in which to do harm, that don't involve the shedding of blood.

Alex developed a stubborn look. "I could run," he said defiantly. "At least *try* to warn them!"

Methos smiled as he shrugged back into his shirt and tucked it in. "Yes, you could. Then we'd catch you and you'd make the trip to Seattle locked in the trunk. Wouldn't you rather enjoy the ride and pelt us with questions? For a guy like you, having two living history books at your disposal should be irresistible. And besides, as Cass said, if this girl murdered you, she's going to be exceedingly careful not to kill anyone else for a while."

Alex growled. "All right," he said with ill grace. "I don't have to like it, and I don't. But I'll go with you. Just bear this in mind. If one of my friends dies because I wasn't there, or because you wouldn't let me warn them, I'm holding both of you responsible!" With that he stormed back to the car and got in the back seat. Both Methos and Cassandra stared at him with some amusement. He leaned forward and bellowed out the window..."Let's move it! The quicker we get to where you want to go, the quicker I can get someone back to Roswell."

Methos looked at Cassandra. "Okay, as an orientation lecture for a newbie goes, that was one for the books. Both the easiest and the hardest one I've ever done."

Cassandra grinned. "He demanded proof. Just like they usually do."

Methos frowned. "That isn't what I meant. You know what I'm talking about. There's more to him and his friends than meets the eye. He changed his world view to encompass our existence, and his role as one of us, way too easily. Unless I miss my guess, he has experience with having his world view turned upside down. Between that and his 'I'm just a soldier between wars' body language, I'd say that Alex is odds on in the top five as most interesting newbies of my long and sinful life." He sighed deeply. "And that includes Elvis."

Cassandra chuckled. "You won't catch me arguing *that*, but we can deal with it in Seattle. As Alex said, time is wasting." They started towards the car, with Methos scooping up his abandoned sword as they went. As they neared the car Cassandra laid a hand on his arm. "There is one thing that we need to address though, Adam."

Methos paused, startled at her touch and her use of his alter-ego's name. He looked at her and waited.

Cassandra shrugged. "I don't know how I feel about all this yet. What happened between us back in the bad old days has been so much a part of my life for so long that...well....letting go of it is going to be a process. Not an event. I don't know what you and I will be when it's all said and done. Friends..or....something else. But I just wanted you to understand that your head is safe around me...from now on. Whatever we are or will be, it won't be enemies. As for the rest," she regarded him cautiously, "it will take time."

Methos nodded and opened the driver's side door for her. As she got into the car he said, "Time I've got. Another three thousand seven hundred years worth if need be." Closing the door he walked around the back of the Caddy, sheathing his sword and dropping it in the trunk. As he got in the car, Cassandra stuck the key in the ignition and a loud rumbling sound filled the car. They looked at each other, startled.

Methos said, "Either my engine needs a tune-up or..." They both turned to look in the back seat at an angry and embarrassed Alex Whitman.

"Hey! What did you expect?" he grumbled. "It's been three days since I've eaten *anything*!"

Cass burst out laughing and started the engine. "We can fix that easily enough!" she said as she pulled out onto the interstate. "Does breakfast at the first good place we see suit you?"

There was a louder rumbling from the back seat, that overrode the noise of the engine.

Cass laughed. "I'll take that as a yes. Just hang on a little longer Alex. "

"Anything with a breakfast buffet will do," Alex groaned. Now that his initial adrenaline high was winding down, his body's demands were really kicking into high gear. "Good God! I didn't think that it was possible to be this hungry! At this point I think that I'd eat anything that didn't eat *me* first!"

Methos chuckled. "You heard the man. Woman! Get thee too a Denny's!"

Cassandra laughed. "After my "shopping spree" in Roswell I don't know if you'll have enough money left to...."

"CASSANDRA!"

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.


STILL YOURS - Part 11b
(Divergence)

MacLeod's Dojo............Tuesday 1:30 AM

"CASSANDRA!"

Cassandra was startled out of her reverie by someone shouting her name. Looking up she saw Duncan standing in front of her, holding out the phone. In response to her questioning look he said, "Methos." Taking the phone from him she brought it to her ear and spoke. "Adam?" In her mind she thought of him by his modern cover name or Adam Pierson more and more often as a means of distancing herself from her former
relationship with him.

"Cass?" he queried in a concerned voice. "Did everything go okay? Do you need a ride back to your place?"

Cassandra sighed. Now that she was 'accepting' him, his concern for her well being was getting...well, someone else might call it stifling, but she thought it touching in the sense that he was so eager to right past wrongs. "No, I'm fine. It was a rough ride, but it's done...for now. Did you have any luck?"

True to his word Methos had been out hunting tonight. "You mean that pig Conterras? Nada. I thought I felt him once. In fact I probably did, but the slippery son of a bitch got away." He paused. "Are you sure that you don't need a ride?"

Cass sighed once more. "No, I going to sleep here tonight in case I have to deal with anything unexpected with regard to Alex 's memories tomorrow morning." Methos was silent. He'd had words with both Duncan and Amanda over the ethical considerations of having Cass tamper as she had. But in the end he had acquiesced to the majority opinion. She went on, "I know your opinion on this Adam. We've been over it. What's done is done. Now I have a tiger by the tail which will, sooner or later, about face and bite me. I can handle it. And it won't last that long anyway. Do you recall that last person to leave the night that we rescued Alex? The girl that wouldn't give up?"

Methos chuckled. "With the silhouette she had, she'd be hard to forget."

Cassandra made an impatient noise. Men! "Well, from your description, she was Alex's nocturnal visitor. And if you'd seen what I saw, you'd know that those two together are something very different from the norm. It's no wonder she was able to reach out across half a continent to touch him."

Methos snorted. "Then I look forward to meeting her. She sounds... formidable." He paused for breath. "Well if you're staying in, I'm going to make one more sweep of the immediate area around MacLeod's building, then head home. Sleep tight Cass, and tell that daft Scotsman that if he talks you into anymore stunts like this we're going to have *more* than just words."

Cassandra chuckled. "I'm sure he'll take it under advisement. You be careful out there old man, don't lose your head over anything. I still hold the mortgage on it, remember that!"

Methos snorted. "Not to worry, I'm well aware of that Cass. Sleep well!"

"I will," she said. "Goodnight!" She broke the connection and handed the phone back to Duncan who was grinning smugly.

"I'll take what under advisement?" he asked.

Cass flushed faintly...because she knew damned good and well that Duncan was looking for an excuse to tease. Then her flush faded somewhat and she grinned with evil intent. "Oh, I believe that had to do with his recommendation that Amanda and I should make you sleep in the middle tonight!"

Amanda stared in amazement. Generally speaking Cassandra came across as so well educated and straight that you forgot the she could have a truly wicked and earthy sense of humor when she bothered to reach for it. Amanda snorted and choked, then broke into raucous laughter. She was joined a moment later by Cassandra as Duncan flushed a deep red.

Duncan knew that he'd been bested. Gathering the shreds of his dignity he grinned and said, "Touché Cass. However, if you and Amanda are having a pajama party, I think that I'll settle for the couch. With the only guest room occupied by Alex, that's all that's available." Duncan raised an eyebrow and delivered a parting shot. "Otherwise *your* only choice would be to go cuddle with Alex or Richie. And while Richie might not mind that, Alex would. And his young lady Isabel certainly *would* mind it. I listened to you with half an ear while Joe was reaming me. She certainly sounds like one of a kind."

Cassandra studied Duncan solemnly. "Duncan, you have no idea how literally true that is. Like Amanda, you didn't see her. So let me be blunt. When this is over, perhaps even *before* this is over, she's going to remember everything. And I mean everything. When that happens she'll come for him, and she won't be in a reasonable mood. If I read her correctly, even under the *best* of circumstances, she has a temper. Under *these* circumstances, if you get between her and what she wants, you'll have an Isabel shaped hole right through you." She smiled grimly. "We may have solved a short term problem while creating an even *bigger* long term problem."

Duncan stared at her for a long moment and then shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now I'll be happy if we all have our heads come this time next week." He yawned mightily. "I wheedled Joe into having the Canadian Watcher section report any movement by Britannicus and his merry men....and in wasn't easy to do. Not least because I woke him up to ask the favor."

Amanda was yawning now too. "Why didn't you wait until the morning?"

Duncan walked over to a closet and pulled out a spare pillow and a blanket while he explained. "Musa has ten Immortals gathered on his estate. All relatively young, and all of them are pretty much the scum of the earth. Men like that don't get along well in close quarters, not for long anyway. He wouldn't have ingathered them unless he were planning to move soon. The fact that he has Conterras *here* says that he's interested in something in this city. And the only 'something' that he's ever shown himself to be *that* interested in has been collecting heads the easy way. So I'd be willing to bet that he'll move soon, within the next ten days at the latest." Duncan paused as he began making up a bed on the couch. "Then again he could already be moving. And once he starts we'll have only hours at most to prepare. Therefore I want us to have all the warning that we can get, starting now."

Cassandra sighed. "The Watchers aren't going to be happy about this Duncan. Joe is using up his capital with them at a ferocious rate. You can't keep using him as your own personal intelligence arm. And it must irritate him no end, if his behavior on the phone was any indication. You're not being fair."

Duncan smiled as he put the finishing touches on the makeshift bed. "Curiously enough that isn't going to be an issue this time out. By using the tactics he uses, Britannicus is placing himself beyond the pale as far as the Watchers are concerned. He's violating the single combat rule yet again, and on such a scale as to defy reason." Duncan glanced at Cassandra. "No, the Watchers definitely want his lifeline trimmed off. And that goes double for Joe. His only beef with me lay in the fact that he'd old, tired, and he'd already been asleep for an hour." Duncan flushed faintly. "And the fact he'd already thought of it when we talked earlier, and already taken the appropriate action, didn't help."

Amanda chuckled. "Okaaay, you woke the man to ask a favor that he'd already granted without your asking for it." She shook her head. "You're going to have to do some serious fence mending junior."

Duncan yawned. "Thanks a lot grandma. As if I didn't know that? It's just one more in a long list of things I owe Joe for." Duncan pealed off his shirt and stretched out on the couch. "Right now though it's late, I'm tired, and we should all grab some sleep. The next couple of days could get a little hectic. You ladies have first crack at the bathroom. Just let me know when you're done."

Twenty minutes later Cass and Amanda came back to find Duncan already fast asleep. Amanda shook her head. "Typical," she said with some disgust. Duncan already had his boots off, so it was simply a matter of pulling the blanket over him and turning in themselves.

Before Amanda shut off the lights Cassandra touched her arm. "Do you and Duncan have a set time when you get up?"

Amanda sighed. "You've just hit the one major drawback of living with someone in a loft....you get up when your roomie does. Whether you like it or not.. He's usually up early. Crack of dawn type early. First cockcrow early. Once he starts stirring, forget about sleeping." She sighed eloquently. "I miss sleeping in."

Cassandra chuckled and yawned. "That's about what I expected. And actually it suits my purpose. I want to be there every step of the way when Alex starts his day, just in case I have to fine tune things a bit." She paused a moment then smiled has she flopped back on her pillow and settled in to sleep. "When this is over, if we're both still standing, plan on spending a weekend at my place. We can swap stories about Duncan, sleep in all weekend, and hit a few clubs to kiss the boys and make them cry. Besides, it'll do him good to do without you for a few days. It'll shake his complacency."

Amanda gave a snort and mumbled sleepily, "Sister, you have a deal. It anyone needs to be taken down a notch, it's Duncan. And besides, I could use the extra sleep." She gave a jaw creaking yawn. "You think that we did the wrong thing...don't you? Meddling with Alex and his girl?"

Cassandra shrugged. "Right or wrong, it's done now. We'll have fallout to deal with later, but that's later. The next week or so is going to require every scrap of attention that we can summon to deal with that fool Musa and his savages. Alex is going to be angry, very angry indeed, but he'll get past it. And at least the odds are better that he'll be alive *to* get past it. His lady love is another matter." She smiled teasingly. "Off hand I'd say that her temper is right in line with yours. How would *you* react in her place?"

Amanda winced. "I'd skin the whole lot of us alive." She paused. "*Then* I'd get nasty." She looked pensive for a moment then grinned. "Perhaps she's a good match for him after all."

She was cut off from further speculation by a groan from the direction of the couch, followed by Duncan's voice thick with fatigue. "I *was* sound asleep there for a while. I'm not anymore. Now....will you two shut up and go to sleep so I can get back to it? We have a long day tomorrow."

Cassandra and Amanda both chuckled. "Good night junior!" Amanda called out. Both women settled down and fell into slumber as the sound of renewed snores drifted up from the vicinity of the couch.

Outside in a rainy night Methos was headed home, having failed to trap the cunning observer who settled in to wait again for a while hoping that his prey would emerge again to wander the night. Taking a pull on his hip flask Rafe Conterras relaxed and watched the silent dojo with the patience of a viper. "Soon boy. Soon," he thought. "Then I can pay that delicious lady of yours a visit and *extend* my condolences...."

You know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men. As the rain continued to fall, Conterras was unaware that before the week was out he was only one of a number of people whose plans would go awry monumentally, and in ways that they'd never imagined...

The Crashdown....Tuesday 6:00 AM

The gentle chiming of Liz's alarm dragged Max Evans out of slumber. He'd groaned as he came awake and then cursed. He'd been in the middle of an extremely detailed and intensely satisfying dream about Liz. With special emphasis on 'intensely' and 'satisfying'. He seemed to be having a lot of those the last couple days. He chuckled to himself and thought, "Like every time you close your eyes." Getting back together with Liz seemed to have unlocked the flood gates of his libido. And like any teenage boy he had a *lot* of back pressure. All the alien factor/telepathic link did was multiply it and make it harder to hide. "No pun intended," he thought wryly as he levered himself awkwardly out of bed. "Of course, months of separation and anxiety followed by sleeping in her bed surrounded by her presence and scent probably doesn't help either."

Heading for the bathroom he decided that his shower this morning should be on the cold side of chilly if he were going to hide his...er, affliction... from Jeff and Nancy. He knew that Liz was aware of the source of his situation. Their bouts of fusion made it impossible to hide anything from each other...including the fact that *her* dreams lately had been every bit as detailed and 'intense'. Yes indeed, Liz knew. But having her parents find out that little aspect of their renewed love was not something that he cared to contemplate. Other than as a potential horror movie plot. Something entitled "I Know Who You Did This Summer", with Jeff Parker in a featured role chasing him around the Crashdown with something sharp and lethal. Max shuddered at the image, shook himself, and started the shower. Warm first, cold later. Laying out his tooth brush and shaving gear he grabbed the guest wash cloth that Liz had left out for him and stepped into the shower.

Twenty minutes later a wide awake and thoroughly chilled Max Evans was standing at Liz's vanity shaving. He paused and stared around the bathroom smiling softly. The sense of unreality kept getting him. Everything about that bathroom seemed to scream "Liz". He'd been in here before...but this time felt like he was marking territory or something. "Watch it Evans," he thought. "The next thing you know you'll be out baying at the moon." He resumed shaving, but at that moment a wave of anxiety and distress came rolling up his link with Liz and smacked him squarely in the psyche. He cursed as the roiling wave of emotion swept into his mind, causing his hand to jerk sharply, resulting in a deep cut on his jaw line. Hissing under his breath he slapped a hand to the cut and healed it immediately. He probed briefly at Liz, but found that she was keeping him out for the moment. If the last twenty four hours had taught them anything, it was that handling their link required trust. He had to trust Liz to contact him when she could. So he settled for an 'I'm here when you want to talk' nudge and finished shaving.

He was getting dressed when he felt Liz's presence nudge at his, initiating contact. Max sat down on her bed, half dressed, and let the link open fully. The emotional flux from his beloved now had a new factor. Anger. Before Max could even speak, Liz plunged ahead.

There was a note in her mindvoice that bordered on grim as she said, ~"Max, we have a problem."~

The Evans Household.........One Hour and Twenty Minutes Earlier

Liz Parker stumbled into the bathroom dragging her overnight bag and reached into the shower to start the hot water. Late hours the night before had left her feeling like the living dead, and the fusion that she had pushed Max into hadn't helped at all. God only knew how she'd managed to come awake without an alarm, but once she *was* awake the only thing that would prevent her from over sleeping was simply to get up and get moving. Turning to inspect herself in the mirror she grimaced in distaste. "Yuck!" she thought, "I look like road kill!. I hope Max can live with waking up to *this* every morning for the rest of his life." Then she smiled wistfully. "Not that he gets a choice in the matter...now." Glancing at her reflection one more time she turned to the linen closet and dug out a towel and washcloth before stripping off her baby tee and sweat pants to get in the shower. Forty minutes later, fully dressed and feeling more alive than she had earlier, she walked into Max's bedroom and prodded Maria awake.

"Come on DeLuca, rise and shine! Time to face a new day!"

Maria groaned and opened a bleary eye. "How *dare* you sound so cheerful in the morning?! Morning people should be shot on sight!" she growled. "Only the fact that I love you like the sister I never had stops me from strangling you this instant!" Sitting up she stretched. "What time is it?"

Liz chuckled. "It's ten minutes of six." And deciding to tease a bit more she added brightly, "Come on Maria! The early bird gets the worm!!"

Maria gave a squeal and pitched a pillow at Liz, which she dodged easily. "I - don't - do - early!" She made as if to roll over and go back to sleep.

Liz sat down next to her and spoke soothingly. "C'mon Maria, I've had my shower and cleaned up for school. You should get up and get in there before Isabel does."

Maria groaned and then rolled over to look at Liz. "Girl friend is still in bed?"

Liz nodded. "If using her powers in dream walk is anything like what Max and I feel after fusion, then she may have exhausted herself. I thought that, if she doesn't get up on her own, we'd just get ourselves together, grab some cereal and get to school. After the last couple of days she could probably use some 'sleep in' time." Liz paused. "I'll check on her before we leave, if she isn't up by then."

Maria sighed and swung her feet out of bed as she sat up. "Okay, go grab yourself something to eat Chica. I don't think that I could face cereal this morning. See if they have some whole wheat bread. Toast and coffee are about all I can handle this morning."

Maria stumbled to her feet, grabbed her bag, then shambled out into the hall and into the bathroom. Liz followed and was rewarded almost instantly by the sound of the shower. If Maria's past performance were anything to go by, it would be almost seven o'clock before she showed up in the kitchen. Smiling to herself Liz headed down the hall to the kitchen in search of breakfast.

Half an hour later, after lingering over a bowl of cheerios and strawberries while she read ahead into the next chapter of her American History textbook, Liz had rinsed her bowl and cup and was placing them in the dishwasher when she heard a familiar voice speak her name. "Liz?" She turned to find Isabel standing in the kitchen doorway blinking sleep from her eyes.

However, before she could answer, Isabel spoke again. "What are you doing here? Where's Max?"

Liz felt something cold and heavy turn over in her stomach. "What do you mean? What do you remember?"

Isabel looked puzzled. "Remember? About what?"

Liz felt the icy hand of panic closing her throat in it's grip. Swallowing convulsively she fought to get herself under control. At that moment she felt Max nudging her mind with inquiry. "Not NOW!" she thought as she shoved his bid for contact away firmly. Liz shook herself and forced her fear into the back of her mind., and regarded Isabel cautiously. "About anything. The last few days for example?"

Isabel frowned. "As questions go, this is one for the books," she thought. But she complied anyway. With a smile she said, "I remember ambushing you and my pigheaded brother... and.... and..." Her frown returned, deeper than before, as she sought to remember. Something wasn't right. She reached for the memory , but it danced away like an elusive ghost. Then a gentle voice that only she could hear reminded her. "Alex is safe." Her face cleared. "Just the usual, lay around the house and work stuff. Why?" She walked further into the kitchen, retrieved a can of coffee from the cupboard, along with a filter, and began nonchalantly to scoop coffee in the grounds basket of the coffee maker. While she did so she glanced occasionally at Liz and arched an eyebrow. "And you still haven't answered my question. What are you doing here and where's Max?"

Liz was thunderstruck. Isabel had no memory of what had happened at all. Liz's mind began to race at light speed, but there was only one conclusion that she could draw. Mind warp. Isabel had gone in last night and gotten caught by...by what? Another dream walker who could mind warp? One thing was clear. There was no longer any question. Aliens had Alex. Whether they had him under warp too, or had lied to him so smoothly that they'd convinced him of their story she didn't know. Liz's fear surged forward again, only to be beaten down by something even more powerful. Rage. Sheer unadulterated fury at the creatures who could play such games with her friends. "Damnit!" she thought, "we've all suffered enough from their stupid GAMES! I'm going to get to the bottom of this and get Alex back...even if I have to drag K'var off of Max's throne personally and beat the bastard to death MYSELF!"

Liz's continued silence puzzled Isabel, which lead her to make a natural mistake. She thought that Liz's lack of speech was inspired by embarrassment. She studied her friend closely and decided that there could be only one reason for her presence and ongoing silence. She walked over and hugged a very surprised Liz Parker warmly. "Congratulations Liz! I'm happy for you! I knew that it was only a matter of time for you two, once you got back together!" She felt Liz quiver slightly and took it as a sign that she was right. Pulling away she smiled. "Is Max around here somewhere so I can hug him too...and maybe needle him a little?"

Liz snapped out of her turmoil at Isabel's final words, and thought, "If she thinks that Max and I are lovers now, then I might as well go with it for now...at least until we can all compare notes and come up with some idea of how to deal with this, out of Isabel's sight and hearing." Then she continued aloud, "No, he had to leave early to deal with something that Brody wanted help with down at the Center. I'll see him at school and tell him that you know." She hugged Isabel fiercely, though for entirely different reasons than Isabel imagined.

Liz let go of Isabel and began easing towards the kitchen door. But Isabel wasn't having any. "Hold on a second. You can't leave me hanging. How did it happen? Did you plan it?"

Liz winced mentally. Her conscience ripped at her like a band saw, but she saw no help for having to lie to Isabel. "No, it...just...happened. We came over last night after you went to bed."

Isabel interrupted her. "We?"

Liz nodded. "Maria and I. We came over to try to get ahead on next semester's work with Max. I was supposed to be staying with Maria for the night, and Amy had another date with Jim Valenti. So it was so late when we finished that we figured we were covered and just crashed here for the night. Maria slept on the couch and I...um..shared Max's bed. One thing led to another....and..."

Isabel leaned forward. "And.....?"

Liz swallowed. "And we did it."

Isabel looked skeptical. "*That* is the skimpiest description of a defining moment in a woman's life that I've ever heard."

Liz hung her head. What Isabel interpreted as embarrassment was actually guilt. "I'm sorry Iz, it's just...new...and...personal."

Isabel smiled. "It's okay Liz. I can wait, but I want *details* later." She looked wistful and sad. "Actually, I'm envious. There was a time when I'd hoped for the same for myself by now, but then Alex......"

Liz cut her off sharply. Swallowing against the lump in her throat she said, "Isabel, I have to go check on Maria, or she's going to make us late for school." Then she resumed backing towards the kitchen door.

Isabel blinked in surprise at her abruptness, then smiled in understanding. This was a bit of the old Liz. Miss prim and proper. Too shy to discuss such things until she got used to them. So Isabel let her off the hook. "Go ahead, we can catch up tonight or tomorrow. Or next week if you can't talk about it." Isabel waved her hands. "Go round up Maria so she can eat something before you leave."

With that Liz turned abruptly and fled down the hall. Reaching Max's bedroom she entered and set on the bed. She drew her knees up and tried to think, but her emotions kept betraying her efforts. She sat there a few moments, then stood and walked out into the hall and down to the bathroom. She knocked for a second, then walked in. Maria turned away from the mirror in the middle of doing her makeup. Ordinarily the sight of Maria with only half a make up job would have been amusing. Not today however. And Maria was less than happy at the interruption.

Maria sighed in irritation. "Lizzie you know that this goes faster without you bugging me to hurry up, so why don't you just wait out...."

Liz cut her off. "Maria, we don't have time for this. We have bigger issues than foundation and eyeliner. Something's wrong with Isabel".

Maria stopped in mid complaint. "Define 'something'."

Liz began to pace in the narrow confines of the bathroom. "She doesn't remember anything that happened last night, or anything that led up to it. I talked to her in the kitchen just a few moments ago, and either she was doing a hell of a job at conning me, or her memory of the dream walks, of learning Alex is alive, of what he told her, of what *she* told *us*, is gone. Completely and totally gone."

Maria sat down on the toilet, her makeup forgotten. "Okay, that's 'something'. But what?"

Liz shrugged. "The only thing that I can think of is that she went in like she planned and ended up going head to head with another dream walker. One that can mind warp, like Tess did."

Maria frowned. "So someone put a whammy on her? But...that would mean that those people that Alex is with are...."

"Aliens," Liz finished for her. "Or close enough as makes no difference."

Maria stood up and resumed trying to do her makeup, but it was harder now. Her hands were shaking.

Liz noticed and tried to comfort her. "It'll be okay Maria, we'll figure something out. I know it looks scary, but we've been through worse."

Maria stopped doing her eyes and gave Liz a disgusted look. "I'm not scared Chica, I'm *pissed off*! Girl friend has been through enough! And we've been through *more* than enough! Things went whacko right back when the whole Tess and Destiny thing intruded. And it's been like surfing a tidal wave ever since! Max had it right back when we got him out of the white room. It's time to take back control of our lives! That includes Alex! I intend to settle down with Michael and have a family one day! And I don't care how many little green men we have to dust to get there!"

Liz grinned. "Then we see eye to eye. We find out what's happening, and then we do something about it...instead of passively hiding from it and thanking our lucky stars that it isn't worse!"

Maria nodded and returned to her make up, her hands now rock steady. It took her only a moment to finish. Then she started gathering her things as she spoke again to Liz. "So, now what? Do we try to enlighten our absent minded sister of things?"

Liz shook her head. "No, not until we have a group meeting, minus Isabel, to discuss things. We may be a family of sorts, but you and I are the in-laws Sweetie. Max and Michael are her blood. They should have input on this before we start to meddle."

Maria's eyes narrowed in thought. "So we do what? Lie to her by omission?

Liz nodded reluctantly. "That's the only option that I think we have. I already told her that Max left early to help Brody out with something at the center before school."

Maria nodded in agreement. "And you and I are here why?"

"We were getting a jump on our post-exam school work," Liz said. Then she blushed. "Oh, and one more thing. This morning I hesitated too long when Isabel asked me about Max's whereabouts, and she sort of leaped to a conclusion.." Liz's blush deepened. "...about Max and I."

Maria noted her friend's discomfiture, reached the proper conclusion in a flash, and clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. "She thinks that you're a 'fallen woman' eh?" she gasped between waves of giggles. "Oh my, if it weren't for the situation, I could have some *fun* with this!"

Liz growled. "It isn't that *funny* Maria! If I'm going to have people believing that I'm a woman now, I'd at least like to enjoy *getting* there, and the benefits that go along *with it*!" Liz was glaring now as an angry tear traced it's way down one cheek.

Maria reached out and pulled Liz into a hug. "It's okay Chica. I know it bugs you, but be patient. You and Max have only repaired things a few days ago. And it isn't exactly as if you've had a lot of opportunities to...um...consumate things since then." Maria sighed. "One thing though Chica. Max may be Mister Romance, but when push come to shove you may have to be the one to push. I did with Michael. He set up the ambiance, but I had to take it from there." Maria pulled away and held her at arm's length. "So be ready for that 'target of opportunity' when it comes."

Liz sighed and nodded jerkily. "I'm sorry I snapped. This whole morning has my emotions in a mess. And to top it off I'm still *pissed*! I just took some out on you." She sighed again. "Poor Max. If he's getting all of this over the link then he must be thinking that he's in love with Sibyl by now."

Maria chuckled softly. "Then go and talk to him Chica. I'm done here, so I'll go grab some breakfast and see just how bad girl friend's memory loss is." She shook her head sadly. "I'll update you on any lies I have to tell her on the drive to school." Maria opened the bathroom door and propelled Liz ahead of her into the hall and down to Max's bedroom. "Go talk to him Lizzie, I'll see you in a few."

Liz walked into the bedroom. Her emotions were still a mess with fear and anger battling for ascendancy, but she was in control. She sat down and reached out towards Max, prodding him gently to open up. As soon as the link was fully open Liz wasted no time getting to the point.

"~Max, we have a problem.~"

The old saying goes, 'Don't get mad, get even'. The thing that they never tell you is that sometimes you have to *get* mad *to* get even.

End of Part 11

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.

Special Dedication: To my friend Michelle, whose voice in my mind has chided me all these months, keeping my Muse alive.


STILL YOURS - Part 12a
(Cement Mixing For Dummies)

West Roswell Highschool......8:15 AM Tuesday Morning

Max was waiting at Liz's locker when she and Maria came down the hall. He'd felt her coming before she had even entered the school. Without pausing she walked straight into his arms and let him pull her close. Their early morning telepathic conversation had left them both feeling frustrated and in dire need of physical contact. Liz's parents had been noticeably curious at how quickly Max had vanished that morning. He hadn't even taken Nancy's offer of what Diane had told her was one of Max's breakfast favorites. Blueberry waffles.

This morning Max found himself to be feeling as needy as Liz was. Their connection was wide open, just short of fusion.

Max burrowed his nose into Liz's neck and inhaled deeply. "How is it that the same girl scent that drove me nuts last night can calm me down so completely this morning?" he wondered. Then he felt Liz's arms shift their grip on him and tighten. As he matched her movements he chuckled silently, grateful for the reminder. "Oh, *that's* why." Just then, thoughts that were not his own insinuated themselves into his mind.

"~Penny for yours thoughts, Love?~" Liz queried.

Max's first response was to tighten his grip further. "~I was just thinking about how you calm me down. How I draw strength from you.~"

Liz gently rubbed the side of her head against his cheek. "~The feeling is mutual. Shared troubles are only half as bad. And shared joy is twice as good.~"

Max planted a soft kiss on the skin behind Liz's ear. "~That sounds like a quote.~"

Liz chuckled softly. "~Yup, from the famous sayings and anecdotes of Claudia Parker. Wanna hear another one?~"

Max stilled and settled back against lockers with Liz leaning against his chest. "~If you want to tell me, I'm here to listen.~"

Liz pulled back slightly so that she could see his face and smiled. "~This one is about you.~"

Max blinked. "~Say what?~"

Liz pulled back so that she could see his face and her smile broadened into an all out grin, then her face turned somber. "~Back just before my Grandma died we were doing a girl talk session, dishing about boys, I kinda let slip that...um...there was someone else that I was interested in...um...other than Kyle. We'd been talking about soul mates, and more or less come to the conclusion that Kyle wasn't mine. Back then I was uncertain about just exactly what was happening between the two of us, and *you* were playing hard to get! So I tried to blow it off by telling her that it was incredibly complicated and could never be.~"

Max smiled back gently. "~And?~"

Liz broke eye contact and leaned forward again into the comfort of his chest. "~She said that if it *wasn't* complicated then you probably *weren't* my soul mate.~"

Max sighed and rubbed her back. "~We know the answer to *that* now, don't we?~" he sent to her, augmented with an emotional backwash of contentment and possessiveness.

Liz sighed happily and seemed ready to settle in for the duration within the comforting circle of his arms.

"Excuse me children, but this really isn't the time or the place," said an impatient Maria. "The straights will start wondering about you two and these long silences. And besides, we have that little problem of Isabel's to deal with?"

For a moment Liz glared reproachfully at Maria, then she sighed and nodded. "Sorry, I was just...um..taking a time out from the tidal wave."

Maria smiled, and the whispered urgently. "I know Chica, I know. And if anyone deserves a time out, it's you. But you two need to knock off the lingering looks and long silences in public. And besides that...", she glanced at Max, "..we have other issues to deal with."

Max looked around at the crowded hall and sighed. "This is too hot to handle in school," he said quietly. "Besides that, now that we have 'adult' backing I'm in favor of taking some advantage of it. I'd say that our best plan is to meet at the UFO Center after school, around 7:00. I'm certain that Brody would be willing to let us use the back conference room, and we could invite in the ...umm...more mature members of the 'club' without arousing suspicion."

Maria nodded. "I'll let Michael know." Then she held up her cell phone. "And I'll call my mother during lunch."

Liz nodded. "Thanks. I'll tell Kyle at study hall, and have him invite his dad."

Max smiled as he watched the girls work out the logistics of tonight's meeting. "That reminds me", he thought and then continued aloud, "Maria could a I borrow your phone? There are a couple of calls I want to make."

Maria was about to hand over her phone when Liz waved her off and handed him hers instead. "Here, just give it back to me at lunch."

Max smiled and kissed her...a bit more warmly than the "law" allowed in a school hallway, but Liz gave as good as she got, which made the risk of official disapproval worthwhile. It certainly didn't escape the notice of passing classmates. Least of all several girls who had been trying to take advantage of the much advertised split between the school's most recognizable couple to sink their fangs into Max. With no success.

Terry Kealer nudged Pam Troy, and nodded at the couple. "There goes the ball game," she said.

Pam frowned. "It isn't over yet," she said in a huffy tone. "I so did *not* spend an hour last night picking this outfit, with Max Evans in mind, only to take a pass. Even if he is back with that flat chested doe eyed little mouse, I'll bet you that I can change his mind!"

Terry sighed. Pam's over confidence would be her downfall. Not that it wouldn't be entertaining to see her try...and fail. "I'll take that bet. If you lose, the next time my parents try to saddle me with baby-sitting my snotty little brother, he's *your* problem...and I get to go out. All you have to do is score with Max Evans by the end of the day. Deal?"

Pam studied Terry for a moment then nodded. "Deal!" Then she stalked away towards her first class.

Terry glanced backwards at Max Evans and Liz Parker one more time. They were still playing statues. Totally lost in each other. Pam didn't have a prayer in hell. Terry grinned and turned away. "Well, to bad for Pam," she thought. "And anyway, she and I may be a part of the same clique, but it's not like we're friends...."

Back down the hall Max released Liz reluctantly and waved as Maria dragged her friend off towards their homeroom. Their connection was still wide open, and neither one seemed to be in any hurry to damp it down. So he clearly felt a wave of love and good humor from her as her words came drifting back down the hall and into his mind. "~Thanks for leaving the connection open, Love. Otherwise I don't think that I could survive until lunch time.~"

Max wore an enigmatic smile as he walked into his own homeroom and nodded to his teacher. "~You're welcome Sweetheart. And the feeling is very very mutual!~" Whereupon he backed his words up by broadcasting his feelings to her.

Down the hall and around the corner sitting in her homeroom Liz flushed slightly as the warm mix of love, lust, and amusement swept into her mind. It left her so distracted that Mr. Rollins had to call her name twice when taking attendance.

As the the bell rang to signal the beginning of first period Liz jumped as a hand reached hurriedly over her shoulder to drop a note. Aside from Maria or Alex, no one had passed her a note in years. And the events of the last few years made note passing seem...incongruous. Childish. She looked across the aisle at Maria who regarded her quizzically. The same question was written on *her* face as well. They both knew who sat behind Liz. What the hell was a member of the popular clique doing passing a note to a non-member? Maria gave a curious half smile and indicated the note with her eyes. Her meaning was obvious. "Open it."

Liz opened the note and scanned it's few lines. She blinked......then she read it again.

"Liz,

Congrats on getting him back. But you might want to know that Pam T. is going to make a serious last ditch run at him sometime today. Cleavage and all.

T.K."

Mr. Rollins was slow to get the class started, so Liz took advantage of the interlude to turn in her seat and study the note passer. Terry Kealer simply smiled and shrugged. Liz turned back around and stared straight ahead for a moment. She was torn between outrage and outrageous laughter, and she was totally bemused. She debated what to do then realized that Max was getting her emotional state over the connection, so she damped it down a bit. Then an evil thought stirred in her mind, brought into being by Max's curiosity coming in over the connection. "This is too good to pass up," she thought. Then she went into telepathic mode and cooed sweetly, "~Oh Maaaaaax......."~.

Maria was watching curiously, burning to know what was in that note that "Kiss the Boys" Kealer had passed to Liz. She'd watched her friend's face go from angry, to amused, to mischievous in the space of moments. Now she had that vacant look, which they'd all recently gotten used to, that indicated that she was either sending or receiving a Max-o-gram. When Liz's eyes cleared she was wearing a grin that could only be called evil. "Damn," Maria thought, "this ought to be good!" She settled back to wait impatiently for the end of class, where upon she promised herself to drag Liz off to the nearest rest room and squeeze the story out of her by whatever means necessary!

Down the hall Max Evans had just had his curiosity, regarding Liz's emotional roller coaster, very thoroughly satisfied. To the casual observer he appeared to lose his normal healthy tan in favor of an unhealthy pallor. The sort you get when confronted with the imminent arrival of...oh say, a man eating tiger. Or in this case, tigress. He sighed and settled in his seat, slouching so as to appear invisible. For he was now all to painfully aware that Pam Troy was seated three rows back on his left. This was going to be a excruciatingly long day.

MacLeod's Dojo.......8:30 AM Tuesday Morning

Morning coffee, so strong as to make a double expresso look like kool-aid, was slowly restoring the three Immortals around the table to life. Even so, Duncan, Cassandra, and Amanda all looked like a poor job of embalming. By contrast, Richie Ryan looked energetic enough, whistling as he banged around the kitchen assembling his breakfast.

Duncan growled. "Richie, keep the racket down. Since when does making cold cereal require you to make noises like you're riveting a boiler?"

Richie walked out of the kitchen whistling and flopped down in a chair on the unoccupied side of the table placing his bowl of cereal in front of him on the table. "Cranky this morning...aren't we?"

Amanda muttered an obscenity. "Richie, if you whistle just one more time, I swear I'll shorten you myself!"

Richie blinked. "Now I know that you guys didn't go out and party last night. So a hangover is out. What's up?"

Cassandra sighed. "Just not enough sleep. Three hours. At the most four."

Richie looked from one zombie to the next. The only thing that he could think of right off hand that could have kept the three of them awake was Conterras. "Okay, I'm hip. But why? Did you get a line on Rat Boy last night and forget to wake me up for the fun?"

The three glanced at each other surreptitiously and, Richie thought, a little guiltily. Cassandra stared hard at Duncan, who shrugged and nodded in Richie's direction. His message was clear. It was her decision.

Cassandra sighed. "Er...no. We had something else going last night."

Richie waited silently. "This ought to be good," he thought.

Cass cleared her throat uneasily. "I, um....well I had to use my abilities to get into Alex's dreams."

Richie did a double take. "Beg pardon?"

Amanda, ever the practical one, cut to the chase. "Duncan had a theory on Alex's behavior, the lack of sleep, the late night excursion and phone call. So he bounced it off of Cass, and it made sense enough for us to explore it."

Richie's patience was starting to fray. "And?!"

Duncan made a disgusted noise. "It was his girl friend. Ex-girl friend. Whatever you want to call her. Name of Isabel?"

Richie nodded hesitantly. "I know the name, but I'm still not seeing a connection."

Cass shook her head. "Apparently there was more going on there than we knew. She was invading his dreams. Accidentally at first I would guess. How could she have known he was alive? Anyway after the first time, a few days back, she's been visiting him every night. I'd guess that the phone call was a follow up to one of her visitations."

Richie looked flabbergasted. "*You* went into his dreams? You caught her at it?"

Cassandra nodded. "I used voice on both of them. In a little while Alex should be waking up. His Isabel is probably already awake. And neither will remember what happened, or that she found him."

Richie looked down at his forgotten and now thoroughly soggy bowl of cereal. His face twisted in distaste and he shoved it aside. "I'm still looking for a reason for the 'beat to quarters, man the guns' approach. I mean, yeah, this could be awkward. But putting a whammy on them is a little extreme, don'tcha think?"

Duncan sighed. "Richie, we found out some stuff late last night. We have a ton of trouble coming, and Conterras is just the tip of the iceberg. The last thing we need right now is Alex's significant other meddling. She may come to town looking for him. And that may just get her killed. Or Alex. Or one of us. This just seemed to be the safest short term solution."

Cass nodded, backing Duncan up. "Richie, I got a reading on those two that you wouldn't believe. They're special. If we'd left things to develop as they have been, she would have been here in a matter of days. She wouldn't have been able to help herself. As it is my 'whammy' won't hold long. I'm hoping that it will last long enough for us to get the upcoming problem dealt with, but I can't say that it will with any certainty."

Richie sighed. "Okay, so what's the disaster looming on the horizon?"

Duncan shook his head. "We'll have to tell Alex anyway, since he's stuck in this too. So lets just wait until he gets up and we see how he's doing. Then we'll tell you when we tell Alex."

A familiar voice interrupted. "Tell me what?"

All four looked up to see a yawning Alex blinking at them owlishly at them from the doorway leading to the guest bedrooms.

Cass smiled uncertainly. How much had he heard? "You look well rested. Sleep well?"

Alex nodded as he headed for the kitchen and the coffee. "Heya Cass, what are you doing here this morning? Yes, I slept wonderfully well." He paused as he poured coffee, took a long sip, and shuddered. "Ah! Like blood to a vampire!" he said. Then he looked at his four friends. "Now.....tell me what?"

Duncan sighed with relief. "Ah, the impatience of youth! It'll keep until you get on the right side of breakfast." He paused. "So you slept okay? No dreams...or anything?"

Amanda kicked him under the table and mouthed, "Real subtle Junior!"

Alex regarded him strangely. Something was going on. "Yes, contrary to what is apparently a popular rumor this morning I slept like a log last night. No dreams or nightmares, or anything of the sort. Now, will you *please* tell me what the hell is happening that I don't know about? Didn't we get past this whole secrecy thing when you guys withheld your knowledge about Conterras for fear of upsetting the newbie? What is it that I don't know *this* time, that can get me killed!?"

Duncan grimaced and waved for Alex to take a seat. Amanda stood up and went to throw together some kind of breakfast for him. Alex took a seat next to Richie, pulled one leg up into a casual position, and waited.

Duncan stared at him for a long moment, unsure of where to begin. "Er...I got curious about Conterras' presence. His MO is more that of a follower, not a leader, or even a loner. So I wondered who he might be following...here. I had Joe do some checking on where he'd been seen in the last few years. The trail lead to Canada, and to a bad ass load of trouble named Roland Kingsgate aka Britanicus."

Alex frowned. That name seemed familiar to him.

Cassandra held her breath. A memory suppression was always most vulnerable early on. In closing off his knowledge of Isabel's visits she had also suppressed anything associated with it. Including the reason for his run in with Conterras at the bus station...AND her mention of Britanicus name in Alex's dreams. The memory was there, but it wasn't consciously accessible to him right now. But his subconscious *could* access it, and it could recognize that name. The question was, would that recognition be enough to break the suppression before layers of additional memory could overlay it?"

Alex was silent for a long moment, then he shook his head as if to clear it, simply dismissing the event as deja vu. "So, I take it that this Britanicus is now our problem?"

Cassandra heaved a quiet sigh of relief.

Duncan nodded. "Yup. He and Conterras are birds of a feather when it comes to breaking the rules of single combat. Though as birds go, Conterras is a very small vulture to Britanicus' very big eagle."

Cassandra snorted. "That would be a Roman eagle."

Alex still wasn't one hundred percent yet, so the best he could muster was, "Huh?"

Cass grinned. "I met him once a long time ago. Britanicus dates back to the Roman Empire and Caesar's Legions. So, as Immortals go, he's an old one."

Alex nodded. "So, what's his game?"

"Taking heads the easy way," Amanda called out from the kitchen.

Richie had been largely silent through all this. He was still processing what had been done to Alex. So he was only giving the latest information half of his attention. He'd been watching Alex for any overt signs of what had been done to him. He couldn't see anything obvious, which for some reason pumped up his irritation into outright anger, but what was done was done, so he tried to shove his concerns aside for the moment to focus on the current problem. With only marginal success, as he demonstrated immediately by snapping out, "Which tells us nothing. What is it that he's coming at us with?"

Everyone at the table turned to stare at Richie, though only Alex could truly have been called surprised by his display of temper. Duncan eyed Richie for a moment in a 'can we deal with this later' sort of way, then he shrugged. "At least ten or more Immortals, all relatively young, and all lowlife types. Gullible and stupid enough to go along with his plans, and vicious enough to carry them out."

Richie was still doing a slow burn, and he held Duncan's eyes in a way that said so. "And his plans are?"

Duncan sighed, this wasn't starting out to be his best day. "Like Amanda said, taking heads the easy way. He misses the 'good old days', he likes conquest. So, once a century or so he collects a bunch like his current one and goes on the rampage, hunting other Immortals. Ganging up on them for an easy kill. Eventually someone will organize a counter strike, but since Britanicus is never out front with his people, he never gets caught in it. Depending on the results when his cut throats finally run into that inevitable brick wall, he may just fade into the background and disappear. Or , if the carnage is thorough enough, he'll simply stroll in and lop the heads off of any survivors, both from his own people and the opposition, THEN he'll fade into the background and disappear."

Richie looked less than pleased. "So we're next on the 'conquest' menu I take it?"

Duncan nodded. "So it would seem. Conterras looks to be the point man for the operation. There's no telling how long he's been observing us. The only reason that we know about him at all, we owe to Alex."

Alex blinked. "Huh?"

Amanda came back to the table with some scrambled eggs and sausage and planted the plate in front of Alex. "Yes, you Alex. The problem Britanicus has with using scum bags like Conterras as his 'step 'n fetch it' boys is that they can't stay focused on the job at hand. Old habits reassert themselves....like Conterras habit of hunting newbies. If Conterras has told his boss about what he's been up to, which I doubt, I promise you that his life isn't worth a Confederate dollar right now. The last thing that Britanicus would want is to attract attention or have us on high alert right now."

Richie was still ticked off, but he smiled in spite of himself. "So rat boy gave the show away? Too bad we can't direct dial his boss and tattle on him. It might even have him look elsewhere for 'sheep' to slaughter."

Duncan shook his head. "No, even if we could, I wouldn't. Forewarned is forearmed. And I WANT Britanicus. I want him to come to us. His rampage in the 1832 killed some friends of mine. And I want to put paid to the bastard once and for all."

Alex was munching his way through his breakfast, but he paused and spoke. "So we're the bait *and* the trap, all rolled into one?" He paused then sighed loudly. "I never thought I'd see the day when having a *lone*
deranged psychopathic killer hunting me would look *good* to me." He glanced around the table. "So, is it always like this with you guys? Or did you lay on something special to break in the newbie?"

This time Richie couldn't help it. He laughed outright. Nudging Alex he said, "I know exactly how you feel bro'. I felt the same way when I was new and weird life threatening things started happening routinely. Good thing we're immortal and damned near indestructible, otherwise the stress woulda killed me in the first six months!"

Cassandra, being aware of Richie's mood and the reason for it, had been quiet the last few minutes. Now she spoke up. "We need to be elsewhere when Britanicus arrives. He'll have planned this thoroughly, and that
includes knowing this building inside and out...as well as our personal dwellings."

Richie scowled faintly, his ill humor resurfacing. "I don't like it! I don't like being off of our home territory. Isn't the object to get him to come to us? To fight on *our* terms?"

To everyone's surprise it was Alex that jumped in. "But Richie, if he's reconned this place down to the the last scratch in the plaster, then our home court advantage is gone. He'll know where we're weak and where we're strong. I agree with Cass, we need to move this elsewhere."

Duncan nodded. "Somewhere isolated, away from non-combatant eyes. The fact that we're on territory he hasn't covered yet will make him cautious, but the temptation presented by catching us in an isolated area will be too much to resist, I hope." He paused. "Ideas anyone?"

Cass looked thoughtful. "Adam may know of a place. I'll call him later and ask."

Duncan was about to speak when Richie cut him off. "Sounds good to me, now, if there's no other new business, I'd like to talk to Duncan, Cass, and Amanda." He looked pointedly at Alex and added...."Alone."

Alex looked startled, then looked down at the remains of his breakfast. "But I'm not done yet!"

Richie sighed. "Take it with you then. Go down stairs, finish it, and start warming up. I'll be down in a while. Please Alex? This is personal." The implied half truth bothered Richie somewhat, but only somewhat. He was
still too ticked off to moralize.

Alex sighed in resignation, and with a nod he grabbed his coffee and his plate, and headed for the elevator. They waited until they heard to elevator stop, then Richie turned on the older Immortals. "Okay, I'm going to set aside for a moment, the totally whacky idea that Alex's significant other is some sort psychic. I've seen things a million times weirder since I got yanked into this life." He waved his hand at those sitting at the table, including Amanda who had just returned with a pot of coffee and taken a seat. "Hell, we're the very definition of weird. So let's leave that alone. What I want to know is, WHAT THE HELL GIVES YOU THE RIGHT......!?"

Duncan cut him off by holding up his hand. "I know, I know. We meddled. We're aware of that. And it will probably come back to bite us in the ass, we're aware of *that* too. But we couldn't risk Alex being distracted right now. The chances are better than even that we'll all be fighting for our lives sometime this week. That includes Alex. I want him to focus on getting through this in one piece. THEN he...and we...can worry about his love life. And regardless of her more than unusual abilities, his lady isn't likely to be terribly understanding about what his life entails right now. She's likely to pressure him to try and come home, as impossible as that is. Or worse, she'll discover where he is, if he hasn't told her already, and come here. Do you want her trying to see him when Britanicus' band of merry men launch their attack? She could be killed, or taken hostage. Do you think that Alex would want that?"

Richie closed his mouth with a snap, and sat back. He glowered for a moment, then spoke. "All right, your reasoning makes some sense, I'll grant you. But the ends don't justify the means. After all your talk, and yes I admit it mine too, about staying away from our former lives, this is still going to look very high handed and 'father knows best'. You'll be lucky if Alex has anything to do with us if he finds out what's been done to him! And I assume that you DO intend to reverse this when the 'war' is over?"

Cassandra cleared her throat to get his attention. She got it all right. As the instrument of what had been done she was the recipient of a ten megawatt glare. She winced, but spoke anyway. "Richie," she said gently, "of course I would reverse it, if I needed to. But I won't need to. You weren't there, you didn't see what I saw."

Amanda pursed her lips and gave a loud and obviously skeptical snort.

Cass regarded her with irritation. "We've been over this Amanda, and I frankly don't care whether you believe me or not. So drop it!"

Amanda, still in mama bear mode, sighed and subsided. Unwilling to pursue the matter. They had bigger issues to deal with at the moment anyway.

Richie looked back and forth between them. "Okay Cass, I'll bite. What am I missing here? And what did you see?"

Cassandra's face took on a distant smile. "Those two are special Richie. What they have is special. I used aura sight on them, to determine the nature of their relationship before I acted. It's love...and more. I've been doing this for millennia, and I've seen special lovers before. People destined by fate to be together, but I never seen anything like these two. They're strongly connected to each other, and on multiple levels. Heart, mind, and soul. It makes me respect Alex a great deal. Being away from her all this time must have been the purest form of agony this side of hellfire."

Richie looked puzzled. "If that's so, then why did he stay here? Why didn't he run?"

Cassandra shrugged. "Form your own theory. Amanda has. I prefer mine. Alex knows enough now to know now dangerous his life will be. What I saw tells me that he's willing to die for her. After that, dying an inch at a time without her would be a trivial thing...if that's what it took to keep her safe. So take our usual caution of involving mortals in our lives and raise it to the Nth degree, and you have your reason. I think that it would have killed him eventually, and most probably her as well. But he would have held out. He's a stubborn one, like Duncan."

Duncan gave an aggrieved snort.

Cassandra chuckled. "All I can add is, thank God that *she* found *him* first!"

Richie was silent as he absorbed what Cass had said. He wasn't sure that he believed in this 'deathless love' stuff, but it explained an awful lot. Then he brought himself up short and looked at Cass again. "I have a feeling that this is connected to why you won't have to reverse your whammy. Am I right?"

Cassandra nodded. "This isn't hard science. I have to go on intuition. But my intuition tells me that this will last only days. I didn't erase their memories. Even *I* can't do that. All I can do is cloud them. Suppress them. Sooner or later the blockage will crumble. Some cue will trigger a blocked memory and the rest will cascade behind it. Or the barrier will simply collapse on it's own if it goes on long enough."

Richie, still looking none too happy, nodded in understanding. "How long?"

Cassandra winced. "Days only. A week if we're lucky. Long enough to settle with Britanicus...we hope."

Richie sighed heavily and nodded again. He picked up his forgotten breakfast and empty coffee cup, and carried them over to the sink where he turned to study the silent three at the table. "Okay, I'll keep my mouth shut...for now. But when he finds out, don't look to me for sympathy or support. Your intentions were good, but your methods suck. And besides that," his eyes narrowed, "if what you said is right, I suspect that this Isabel will see it as her right to share Alex's danger..regardless. A right that you've denied her...and Alex." Richie shook his head ruefully. "I know the kid pretty well too, and I wouldn't want to be in your shoes for all tacos in Tiajuana." With that he turned and headed for the elevator to join Alex downstairs. Leaving the three at the table to their own ruminations, and regrets.

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.


STILL YOURS - Part 12b
(Cement Mixing For Dummies)

The Kingsgate Estate....10:30 AM Tuesday

Britanicus swayed as the crackling energy of The Quickening danced around him. The pain was exquisite, then as quickly as it came it was gone. There was silence. Looking around him he surveyed the destruction in the central court behind the manor house and blearily thought, "Now I'll have to get landscapers out here to deal with this mess." Looking on the ground within the still smoldering ring of once manicured garden he saw the reason for the destruction. The headless corpse of Radu T'chernic. Uttering a curse he strode over and delivered it a vicious kick to the ribs. "The problem with using scum to do your dirty work," he thought, "is that they revert to type with little or no notice!" Looking up he saw the spectators standing discreetly outside the area affected by The Quickening. His chauffeur was off today, the domestics were only part timers, and the cook was doing the marketing, so the only audience that he had were those that understood the significance of what had happened here. Looking at them with contempt he spun on his heel and marched back into the house and into the ground floor room that Radu had occupied. The place was a pig sty and it stank. "I'll have to have the place fumigated," he thought as his lip curled in disgust. Then he looked at the bed...and the reason for his handling of Radu.

Walking over to the bed and it's tangled and bloody linens he stood looking down at the body. Reaching out he brushed a lock of auburn hair from her face to find sightless green eyes staring back at him. "Gods," he thought, "she's barely old enough to be called a woman." He'd been walking by when he'd heard a feminine whimper coming from a room where none should be, and without pausing he'd kicked the door in and found Radu rising from finishing with his entertainment. What Britanicus had heard was the girl's death rattle. Britanicus had snapped. In the moments that followed he'd beaten Radu within an inch of his life, then he had dragged him out into the courtyard, drawn his sword, and taken Radu that last inch to Hades. Britanicus saw himself as a soldier of 'The Legions'. To him a soldier may legitimately conquer and kill the enemy. But that was all. There were certain lines which he would not cross. It had always been that way. Long ago the soldiers of his cohort under Caesar had thought him niggardly because he refused to permit any under his command to indulge themselves in post battle rapine and slaughter of non-combatants. He still wouldn't. Hearing a noise behind him he spun, his face a mask of fury. It was Joachim.

Joachim paused just inside the door. With his employer in this state he was very likely taking his life into his hands simply by walking in here, if for no other reason that that it had been his job to prevent things like this from occurring. So he stood stiffly and impassively, and waited.

"What is it Joachim?" Britanicus growled.

Joachim's eyes lost their thousand yard stare and focused on Britanicus. "I simply came to see if you wanted me to begin cleaning this up." He waved his hand at the room.

Britanicus paused then said, "In a moment, but first...bring them in here. All of them!"

Joachim knew who 'them' meant, and he beat a hasty retreat to round 'them' up.

Britanicus turned back to the bed and fought his anger down. After a short interval he heard the sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway. He waited until he judged that they were all here, then he turned. Looking at a thoroughly cowed pack of subordinates he spoke. "When you all joined me, did I, or did I not, explain the rules of your employ? And the punishments for violating those rules?" A chorus of muttered incoherent replies fanned his anger back to life. "I SAID, DID I, OR DID I NOT, EXPLAIN THE RULES? ANSWER ME DAMN YOU!"

This time it was loud and clear. "Yes Sire!"

Britanicus pointed at the bed with his sword without turning away from them. "That utter pig Radu broke those rules, and paid with his life! There will be no more such infractions, am I clear? I can't control what you do when you aren't working for me, but when you are I expect you to obey! Or by Mithra and Mars I'll kill the lot of you and start over! AM I CLEAR!?"

There was some shuffling of feet, but again it was loud and clear. "Yes Sire!"

Britanicus nodded jerkily. "The next time something like this happens I WILL kill the lot of you, and crucify the perpetrator...literally! So from here on, you are all responsible for and to each other! If one of you screws up, breaks curfew, or even farts in the dining room, you'll be hustling off to hell to join Radu in warming his toes by the fire!" He paused for breath. "Now GET OUT! ALL OF YOU!"

As they shuffled towards the door Britanicus spoke again. "All but you Joachim."

Britanicus turned away and stared at the pitiful sight on the bed. Once the rest were gone, Joachim closed the door and turned to his employer. "Your orders Sire?"

Britanicus was silent for a long while, then without turning he began to speak. "Joachim, we've been together a long time, and you've served me well. So it pains me to say this, but if this should happen again, ever again, you and the offender will share adjoining crosses. Am I clear?"

Joachim swallowed. "Yes Sire!"

Britanicus sighed. "Joachim, I may be a brigand and a killer, but I have certain ethical lines A commander is responsible for the actions of those under him. To kill an enemy in battle is acceptable. Even killing hostages is a legitimate tool of war. But to kill simply for the sake of...appetite...is unacceptable. For me or any under my command. Do you understand?"

Joachim had recovered his aplomb. "Yes Sire."

Britanicus nodded and turned to regard his subordinate. "And as my centurion, you are not immune from those rules."

Joachim looked impassive. "Yes Sire."

Britanicus sighed. "Now, clean up this mess, and get those swine out there to help you. Take charge of this girl's body yourself. She is to be cleaned up as well as may be, and wrapped in clean linen. Be sure that the linen carries no laundry marks, or indeed distinguishing marks of any sort. You will then take her to an out of the way spot far from here where she will not be found immediately and deposit her there. Dump Radu's head and body a respectful distance away. And take a rifle with you. You will then stand guard at a discreet distance to keep the scavengers from bothering her. Radu I don't care about, let the carrion eaters make a banquet of him. You will then summon the police with an anonymous phone call so that she may be returned to her family. Be sure to tell them that her killer has been accounted for...and where they can find what's left of him."

Joachim nodded. "Yes Sire!"

Britanicus made as if to leave, then paused. "And Joachim?"

Joachim turned towards him. "Yes Sire?"

"Be sure to watch the obituaries," Britanicus said. "I want her name. I owe her family wergild for this." Then he turned away.

Joachim stopped him before he reached the door. "Sire?"

Britanicus stopped, but did not look back or speak.

Joachim hesitated. "What of the contents of the room, Sire?"

Britanicus shuddered. "Burn it. Burn it all." Then he was gone.


West Roswell High.....Lunch time

Kyle and Michael were already at the ET table when Maria arrived..... snickering quietly to herself and grinning. She dropped her book bag and pulled out her lunch, sitting down opposite the boys, and carelessly dumping the contents of her lunch on the table. She was still laughing, lost in a private joke, when she picked up an orange and began to peel it. Then she noticed that both of her table mates were staring at her. "What?" she asked.

Michael glanced at Kyle then back at Maria. "Care to share the joke Pixie?"

Maria made a show of thinking it over, then shook her head, and went on peeling the orange.

Kyle was feeling a little lost so he tried to make conversation. "Where are Max and Liz?"

Maria stopped peeling the orange and carefully set it down before looking up an Kyle. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She simply started to tilt sideways on the bench falling out of sight. Strange squeaking noises arose from her side of the table. A now thoroughly worried Michael jumped to his feet and leaned over the table to check on Maria.

Kyle watched as he stood there for a while then slowly sat back down. "Well?" he asked . "What's wrong with her?"

Michael gave Kyle a bemused look. "She's laughing. In fact she's laughing so hard that she can barely make a sound."

A delicate hand reached up and grasped the table surface, and a moment later a still laughing Maria hauled herself into sight and promptly crossed her arms on the table, pillowing her head on them. Her shoulders were
still heaving with laughter.

It was infectious. Kyle and Michael began to smile, even though they had no idea what the joke was. After some minutes Maria had subsided enough to wipe the laugh tears away. She pulled out her compact and checked her makeup for damage. A few quick wipes with a tissue satisfied her and she snapped it closed. Her eyes were still sparkling with laughter when she looked the boys in the eye and said, "Mr. Evans and Miss Parker will *not* be joining us for lunch." Then she picked up her abandoned orange and resumed peeling it.

Outside the Evans Residence....At approximately the same time...

Max's car whipped up into the Evans' driveway and screeched to a halt. He was out of the car in seconds and ran for the front door. Isabel was in the kitchen, having come home from the Evans' law office for lunch, when she heard what passed for a stampede of elephants heading for her brother's room.

"Max?!" she called out. "Is that you?"

A distant shout from the direction of her brother's room satisfied her that it was indeed Max. But what the hell was he doing home in the middle of a school day? Isabel abandoned the remains of her lunch, picked up the cup of tea she'd been drinking, and walked down the hall. Entering Max's room she found a harried and strangely attired Max throwing clothes on the bed. Jeans, t-shirt, boxers, socks. A complete outfit.

"Max, what the hell are you doing home in the middle of the day? And why the hell are you wearing your PE clothes?" Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "And how did you get red paint in your hair and smeared on
your face?"

Max opened his mouth to speak, but winced as someone else cut in...silently.

"~Maxwell Evans! What's taking so long? You're not the only one going commando here!~" came Liz's impatient mind voice.

"~Patience Sweetheart, Izzy's home. I'll just be a second~" he responded.

Isabel had seen the look on his face that said he was having a conversation with someone other than her. So when she was his focus come back to her she said, "You were talking to Liz. Is she with you?"

Max sighed. "It'd take too long to explain Iz. She's outside in the car, waiting. As for why I'm home... that's what'd take to long to explain. Trust me."

Isabel's curiosity was now in overdrive. Following Max as he left the room and dashed back the way he had come, she arrived at the front door in time to see him getting into his battered Chevelle ragtop. The top was down so she had a good view of the other occupant. Max started the engine, slammed the car into gear and backed out of the driveway. Isabel raised her arm to wave and froze as she had a momentary view of Liz Parker's hair and face. Max tooted his horn and peeled out in a very un-Maxlike fashion. He was obviously in a hurry to be somewhere else. Isabel lowered her arm, went back into the house, and closed the door. Then she noticed the cooling cup of tea in her hand, and drained it. Leaning against the front door she frowned. "That was definitely red paint in Liz's hair and on her skin. And more of it than Max had on his," she thought. Isabel sighed. She and Max were going to have a long talk tonight. Not least about the little fact that she'd discovered this morning after Liz and Maria had left. That her bookmark file on her Dad's computer was suddenly full of martial arts sites. Shaking her head she rinsed her lunch dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

For a moment she paused. Martial arts? That triggered something, a vague feeling of something important, like a memory of a memory. It danced tantilizingly...just out of her reach. Then it was gone. She sighed deeply and shrugged, then she grabbed her purse and headed back to work.

West Roswell High....Same time

Michael frowned. "What do you mean they won't be joining us? They ditched school?" he asked in evident disbelief.

Maria was chewing a segment of orange. She choked, clapped her over her mouth, and swallowed mightily. Grabbing her coke she took a sip and coughed experimentally. All clear. Then she glared at Michael. "Don't ask questions like that when I'm eating, Spaceboy!"

Michael was getting impatient. "Well Pixie, if you could spare us time between giggling and feeding your face to explain things, we wouldn't need to ask questions."

Thunderclouds began to gather over Maria. And, not wanting to get hit by a stray bolt of lightening, Kyle intervened. "C'mon Maria. Stoneface here may not be very diplomatic, but we're dyin' over here. Where are Romeo and Juliet? And what happened?"

Maria seemed to consider things. Then, true to her mercurial nature, her mood flipped, she grinned and shrugged. "Okay boys, I'll give. It'll be all over school by the end of lunch anyway. It's too juicy to keep quiet."

Michael and Kyle leaned forward.

"So talk," said Michael.

Maria chuckled. "It all started this morning when Terry Kealer passed Liz a note in home room."

"What'd Keelhauler want?" Michael asked. He was puzzled. Terry Kealer was an "insider". Someone of that clique passing a note to one of their group was a violation of the laws of nature.

Maria sighed. "Patience Spaceboy. All will be revealed." Maria paused dramatically then went on. "Now, where was I? Oh! The Note. Anyway, I dragged Liz into the girls bathroom right after first period class and squeezed the contents of the note out of her.......

***Flashback***

"She said WHAT?!" Maria shrieked.

Liz made calming noises. "Shhhhhh! Maria! Public bathroom?!" Liz glanced around at the handful of other girls in the room.

Maria made an irritated noise and dragged Liz out the door. Looking around she spotted the janitor's closet and hauled Liz over. Testing the door she found it locked. She banged on the door and shouted. "Out you horn dogs. Priority user here!"

There were brief scuffling noises from within, then the door was snatched open to reveal two rumpled classmates, one of each gender, who beat a hasty exit. Maria dragged Liz inside and locked the door.

"Okay, we're short on time so lets make it quick," Maria said. "What did the note say?"

Liz shrugged. "Just that Pam Troy was going to do her best to nail Max before the day was out."

Maria was fuming. This had to be a set up. Kealer was no friend of theirs, anymore than Pam was. "And you believe this?"

Liz grinned. "Enough to tell Max. He took it badly." Her eyes were twinkling. "He bolted out of homeroom with Pam in hot pursuit when the bell rang. And she *is* chasing him. There's no mistaking it."

Maria adopted a poker face. "And what do you propose to do about it? You can't have that top heavy cow pawing Max in front of the student body. Others might get the idea that you can't defend your territory."

Liz shrugged. "I'll deal with it when it comes to that. I'm not going to stress over it. I have no worries about the 'Dairy Queen' getting her hooks into Max, so why not enjoy the game a bit." She grinned. "Max is so cute when he's panicked."

Liz cocked her head and got that vacant look. When her eyes cleared Maria was looking at her curiously. Liz shrugged. "Max says that I'm getting entirely too much enjoyment out of this, and that he'll get even with me if it's the last thing that he does."

Maria giggled. "Okay Chica, if that's the way you want it. The bell is about to ring and, unless my memory fails me, you and I have a class coming up with both Max *and* Pam Troy in it." Maria opened the door and hooked her arm through Liz's. "Let's go see today's episode of 'The Fugitive'."

Both girls exited laughing and made their way to class.

***End Flashback***

Kyle laughed out loud. "You girls spent the morning watching Evans play fox to Pam Troy's hound...and you didn't see fit to share it with me? What kind of friends are you?"

Even Michael was chuckling. Maria looked at him. "Was it worth the wait Spaceboy?"

Michael nodded. "Yes Pixie, worth it and then some. I am *so* not worthy! But why do I have the idea that there's more to the story?"

Maria's eyes twinkled. "Cuz there is. It just keeps getting better....."

***Flashback***

All morning long the girls had been treated to a display of Max Evans fleeing Pam Troy to preserve his virtue. The only time Pam had left him alone was the brief moment between second and third period that he'd managed to grab a few moments with Liz. Then Pam had backed off rather than cause a scene by making her play. Other than those few minutes she'd been on his trail all morning. Even when he was out of their sight Liz still gave Maria the telepathic play-by-play.

Now Liz and Maria were in study hall. Maria had been struggling with geometry, with Liz's help, and the study hall teacher's approval, when Liz zoned out. When she came back she was muttering under her breath.

Maria pretended to keep working but whispered, "Liz, what's the matter?"

Liz copied Maria's play acting, and whispered back, "This just stopped being entertaining. That slut took a seat behind him in English. She's touching him! And Max, true to his 'I can't attract attention' nature is enduring it rather than complain!"

When the bell rang for lunch the girls were ready, and made a dash for the door. By pre-arrangement they would meet Max in the art department classroom and escort him to a Troy-free lunch. They were halfway there when Liz froze in the hallway.

Maria grabbed her friend's arm with concern. "Liz, what's the matter?"

Liz unfroze and began to speed walk down the hall, as Maria struggled to match her pace she said, "She's tracked him down. She's in there with him." Suddenly Liz uttered a word that even Maria had never heard from her before and broke into a run.

Maria was right beside her, and managed to gasp out, "Liz?"

Liz was in better shape and said clearly, "She's taking off her BLOUSE!"

***End Flashback***

Kyle stared at Maria with tears running down his face. "You're kidding, right? Pam 'The Student Body' Troy was trying to get naked with Max Evans?"

Michael was trying to keep a lid on his amusement, but he could feel gales of laughter struggling to escape. And as much as he'd fancied himself the rebel over the years, he was really quite shy and uptight about public displays of any sort. Maria was slowly curing him of that, but right now his reputation as "Stoneface" Guerin was in danger of biting the dust for good.

Maria stared at her more than boyfriend and lover, and prepared to deliver the killing blow to his self-styled cool.

"Wait for it boys," she said. "Here comes the punch line...."

***Flashback***

Liz and Maria dashed around the corner, entered the hall that held the art room, and accelerated flat out.

Pat Vazinni the art teacher had stopped on his way to lunch to chat with a colleague. Both teachers stopped the conversation as the girls thundered past. Pat was about to stop them and chew them out when they stopped themselves... outside of his classroom! Liz Parker began to tug on the door wildly. "I didn't lock that door," he thought. Suddenly Liz's efforts were successful and the door flew open with a bang. The girls charged into the room. Pat had nodded a good-bye to his fellow teacher and begun walking back towards his class room with the intention of investigating their behavior when a bellow of feminine rage emerged from the door of his classroom to echo in the hall. He broke into a run.

Liz and Maria had charged into the room to find a stuttering red faced Max backed up against an art supply cabinet. Pam had her blouse off, and her skirt was partially unzipped and ready to come off next, she was relying on her ample curves to break down his resistance. After all, wasn't Max in the position that every other boy in school would kill to be in?

Max had known he was in deep trouble the instant she'd reached for the first button. Now she had him backed up against the cabinet while she whispered promises to show him things that his mousy little girl friend had never even dreamed of. He was getting desperate. He didn't have enough hands. He couldn't stymie her efforts to land a kiss *and* keep her hands off of him at the same time. There was also the issue of skin. Every time he tried to fend her off his hands made contact with disquieting amounts of skin, which only caused her to redouble her efforts in anticipation of success.

Pam, for her part, was over the top. She'd been chasing The Max-imum Evans all morning without success. She was tired of this game. She finally had him alone without the little troll of a girl friend, with whom he was now joined at the hip, to interfere. And she was going to have him no matter what it took! If for no other reason that that she was *not* going to baby-sit that drooling slack jawed refugee from the shallow end of the gene pool, Daniel Kealer!

Liz and Maria chose that moment to arrive. The bang of the door flying open startled Pam and caused her to look over her shoulder, without letting up on her efforts to grope Max. "Well well, the mouse girl and her groupie cometh! Now I *know* I locked that door! It doesn't matter, I can work with an audience as well as not. Watch and learn little girl." Then she studiously ignored them.

Liz shook her head. This was nuts. Pam was nuts. Who did she think she was? Darth Vader in drag? Six months ago Liz would have hesitated. A year ago she'd never have dared. She hadn't been the 'in your face' confrontational type. Now though, after everything that they'd been through together, a tramp like Pam was just another annoying cockroach. Her anger from this morning returned with potent force. The time for clever repartee was past, this called for a little massive retaliation. In that instant her eyes fell on the very thing. A quart can of abandoned water color paint. "~Max, close your eyes.~" Taking two steps forward she grasped the can. "Pam...tsk tsk...blue lingerie? Red is really more your color." And with an easy underhand flip she launched the contents of the can at the girl.

Pam sprang away from Max with a shriek. She was splattered, head to toe, in red paint. "You little bitch!" she screamed. She launched herself at Liz. Max made ready to intervene. Pam had height, reach, and weight on Liz. The cat fight in the making didn't get off the ground however. Liz and Pam grappled for only a moment before a male voice bellowed, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Everyone froze and looked at the Mr. Vazinni standing in the doorway wearing a stern look.

Regardless of his words, Pat Vazinni knew exactly what was going on. He and a few other teachers were just young enough to be regarded as 'cool' by their charges. Hence he was wired into the school grapevine. He and a few others had followed the course of the Evans/Parker phenomenon (as they referred to it privately). They'd seen the ups and the downs, and they had in fact had a pool on just when the inevitable reconciliation would take place. A pool which he had won on Monday. And he'd heard from his students all morning about the pursuit of Max Evans. So he wasn't quite in the dark. However, as the authority figure, he was required to come on like the Wrath of God. Still, the hundred and fifty dollars he'd collected also left him feeling charitable.

In a calmer tone of voice he continued, "Miss Parker? Would you care to explain?"

Pam tried to cut in and give her side first, but Vazinni over rode her and gestured for Liz to answer. Liz, carefully editing any references to telepathy, told of Pam's pursuit of her boyfriend, their arrangements for she and Maria to meet him here and escort him to lunch, and of finding Pam throwing herself on him when they arrived.

Pat saw a few holes in the story, relating to their panicked arrival, but he let them go.

Pam Troy however was not so easily beaten down. "After all," she thought, "I *own* this school!" So she spoke up immediately after Liz finished. "She's *lying* Mr. Vazinni! Max and I were fooling around, and she can't take the truth, or handle the competition."

Even without Max's reddened face and frantic shaking of his head, Pat wouldn't have bought it. He knew Max and Liz too well.

So he said nothing. He simply gave Pam that 'I'm not buying it' stare that all good teachers master in their first months on the job. After a moment, he spoke evenly. "Miss Troy, don't bullshit a bullshitter."

Pam blinked and got a sinking feeling.

"I saw everything from the hallway. And if it were anyone else's classroom other than mine, I'd have given Liz time to thrash you before I intervened."

Pam tried a halfhearted protest, but Vazinni cut her off. "Might I point out that *you're* the one that's half naked?" Pam subsided. "Get your clothes on and go home to clean up. Principal Siebring will be contacting
your parents sometime today."

Everyone was silent as Pam got her blouse on and stalked out of the room. After she was gone Pat regarded Max and Liz ruefully. Max hadn't gotten the worst of it in Liz's initial paint salvo, but he was still a mess. And Liz's momentary wrestling match with a paint covered Pam hadn't done *her* clothes, face, or hair much good either. Pat Vazinni sighed. Now that Pam was gone his deeply buried amusement was beginning to surface. He had to get them out of here before he started braying like a jackass.

"Miss DeLuca, you head on for lunch," he said.

Maria hesitated.

"Oh relax! They aren't in any trouble. Not with you and I to back them up! Go on, this story will be all over before the school day is done. So if you want to get any mileage out of it, I suggest that you get out there and get to gossiping!" He jerked his head at the door and winked.

Maria grinned and turned to Liz. "Chica, I'd give you a hug, but then I'd have to go home too. Call me, eh?"

Liz nodded. "You bet. Now go and eat. Michael and Kyle will be waiting."

Maria giggled, blew her a kiss, and scooted out the door.

***End Flashback***

Maria, Kyle and Michael were all rolling with laughter. Michael's usual public stoicism was toast. Ordinarily this might have attracted attention, but similar scenes were playing out elsewhere on the quad. The word was spreading. They had barely recovered their self-control when Terry Kealer walked by and silently gave them a big thumbs up. Which set them off again.

Michael recovered first. "Honest to God, I'd have paid money for a front row seat! Pam's days as the Bitch Queen of West Roswell are over. Every time she tries to do the snob thing, someone will comment on how good she looks in red!"

Maria was next. "It might even force her to burn all of her clothes that even faintly red!"

Kyle shook his head and wiped his eyes then looked at Michael. "Honest to God Bro', however much I may whine about how my life has changed since I got sucked into all this, I can say one thing in all honesty. Knowing you guys is more laughs than I've ever had in my life!"

Michael grinned. "I'll remind you of that Valenti, the next time you bitch about being a member of the club!"

Kyle snorted. "You *do* that!"

Maria cleared her throat. "Guys? Not to blow the mood or anything, but Liz was supposed to tell you something when she saw you today, Kyle. Now I have to. Max is calling a meeting at the UFO Center after school."

Kyle frowned. "Trouble?"

Maria rolled her eyes. "You could say that. I was supposed to tell Michael about it. Liz was supposed to tell you, and ask you to tell your Dad. It's set for around 7:00." Maria hesitated. "And if you see Isabel, do *not*
mention it to her. It's kind of about her too."

Michael frowned. He hated mysteries. Especially threatening mysteries. But this wasn't the place to get into a discussion. It was a measure of how much he had matured when he simply nodded. "I'll be there, Pixie." Then he noticed that time was slipping away and began to inhale his meager lunch with desperate haste. Kyle copied his speed, and barely finished before the bell summoned them all back to class.

The Art Room....Just after Maria's departure...

Vazinni looked at the two remaining participants in the recent altercation and planted his hands on his hips. He shook his head. "You guys have a ride home?"

Max nodded.

Vazinni's eyes narrowed in thought. He walked to his desk and scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Max. "This is a pass for the both of you. Take it and get to the gym. Change into your PE clothes, you don't want to get paint on your upholstery. Then take those clothes that you're wearing and roll them up to keep the paint from drying. Then go home and clean up. And be sure that you get those clothes you have on in the washer immediately, while the paint is still wet. I can't promise that they won't stain, but they'll probably stain less than they would if that paint dries."

Liz swallowed. "Can we help you clean this mess up?" She waved at the paint splatters. They were surprisingly few. Liz's aim had been good.

Pat shook his head. "There's not that much to clean up. And by the time you finished that paint you're both wearing would be bone dry. Besides, seeing you clip Miss Troy's wings was worth the price of admission. That arrogant conceited little fool has been a blight on this school for three years. It was time that she was taken down a peg or two." Then he grinned teasingly. "Besides, students aren't the only ones in this school that gossip. This story will make me very popular in the teachers' lounge for a day or two." The objects of his humor both blushed. "Relax kids. The people who count around here will see you as heroes. Now scoot!"

Max tried to stammer out his thanks. But Pat waved him off. "All part of being a good pedagogue. Now scram! Both of you!"

Max grabbed Liz's hand, then they both grabbed their book bags and fled. Before they'd made it to the end of the hall they heard hoarse laughter echoing after them. Max stopped Liz and grinned. He leaned in to give her a kiss, and let his thoughts and feelings roll out to her. "~My hero!~"

Liz giggled. "~Shucks, t'weren't nothin'.~" Then she tugged his hand and hurried him on, taking advantage of the empty halls to reach the PE locker rooms unseen.

They separated to reach their lockers. Liz was doing a hurried job of changing when Max spoke to her. "~Liz? 'll drop you off first, then head home.~"

Liz paused studying her lingerie. The paint had soaked through. Sighing she rolled them up inside of her jeans and top. "~Look Max, your parents place is between here and the Crashdown. You swing by and pick up some clothes. We can wash everything together at my house, and you can use the 'rents shower to clean up.~"

Liz felt wave of worry from Max. "~Liz, I'm not sure that bringing you home covered in paint will do anything to plead my case in your parents eyes.~"

Liz sent him a wave of warmth and amusement. "~Relax handsome spaceman. I checked my voice mail before third period, and Mom left me a message. There's a restaurant equipment vendor's show in Albuquerque today. My dad can get a discount if he orders that new dishwasher at the show. He'd never pass up a deal like that. He and Mom left not long after you did this morning. They're staying there until late afternoon. I don't expect them back before 6:00 PM at the earliest.~"

Max froze. He was going to be alone with Liz? At her place?

Over in the girl's locker room Liz felt Max's excitement slam into her mind. On her face, a slow grin started and spread. Even without telepathy she could have read him like a book. "~Let's move it Max. I don't want to be in here when lunch ends!~"

By mutual agreement they met at Max's car. The few students who had seen them had pointed and whispered. It was starting already.

The Crashdown Cafe....a short time later...

Max parked down the alley from the Crashdown and they climbed the ladder to Liz's balcony. Liz went first and Max, who was following behind, didn't even pretend to *not* enjoy the view. Her window was locked, but it opened to a wave of Max's hand. Once they were inside Liz turned to him.

"Give me your clothes and I'll get the washer started. It draws it's water off of the restaurant system, so we should have plenty of hot water for the showers."

She took his bundle and led him down the hall to her parents room, with a stop in her bathroom to retrieve the towel and wash cloth that he'd used only hours ago. They were still damp, but he solved that with another wave of his hand. He gave her a lingering kiss and a smile, then he vanished into her parents' bathroom, closing the door. Since they had left school, and by mutual agreement they'd kept their connection damped down, but enough was leaking through to let her know that the news of her parents' absence had brought Max's hormones to red alert. The fact that her own..er...juices....were also at a rolling boil wasn't helping. The sexual tension was so thick that you could have spread it on bread. She rushed to the utility room and got the laundry started, in an effort to give her mind something else to focus on...other than the naked love of her life in her parent's bathroom. She clucked despairingly over Max's jeans and shirt. She'd been more thorough than she'd realized. She set the washer for a long pre-soak and hoped for the best. The underwear was another matter. Max's boxers were patterned and dark, but her lighter lingerie was probably hopeless. With her luck they'd come out tinted pink. Then she realized that these *were* Max's boxers. That he'd been wearing them only a short time ago. And she thought about the fact that he had put them on in *her* bedroom this only a few hours ago! Big mistake.

"Oh my God!" she thought. "He slept in *my* bed last night! Again!" She dashed down the hall into her room and looked at her bed, carefully made up by Max this morning. She flipped back the spread and picked up a pillow, pressed it to her face, and inhaled deeply. It was him. His scent was all around her. It was a heady masculine scent that made her blood race. "It's a damned good thing that we were too tired the other night for our needs to have much say about it," she thought, "otherwise Mom and Dad would have gotten a rude wakeup call!" She dropped the pillow as if stung and spun around heading for the bathroom. It was time for a shower, on the cold side!

Just down the hall Max stood under the shower head, letting icy water cascade over him. He tried to tell himself that he was only trying to save hot water for Liz, but it was a bald lie. Only a few days ago he had despaired of ever again even touching her hand with the ease they had known in the past. Now though, in the space of only 48 hours, all that had changed beyond recognition. She had welcomed him back into her heart and soul without hesitation or reservation. Silently he cursed his older alter ego again. All that pain, for nothing. Max sighed and leaned his forehead against the cold tile. They were past that now. Past it and moving forward. It was the 'forward' part that had him chasing his own tail. They had been stymied in pursuing their own destiny for too long. A destiny that surely would have made them lovers before now. If what his future self had said were true, they were already a year and more late. Before their reconciliation it had been an unrelieved ache in his belly. Now though, with the knowledge of what had happened...what *should* have happened, the ache had become a raging inferno that burned twenty four hours a day. And the back pressure was driving him out of his mind. And, more to the point, Liz knew it was doing so.

Max saw no point in staying in the shower until he became a prune, so he shut off the water and stepped out. He dried off and pulled on his boxers and a pair of pants. Then he gathered his remaining clothes as well as his towel and wash cloth and padded down the hall to Liz's room, barefoot. Arriving he could hear the shower running. He stepped up to the bathroom door and was overwhelmed by a riot of fantasy about what was happening on the other side of it. He placed his hand on the door knob and contemplated going in there. What would she do? Chase him out? Or ask him to wash her back? Or would she just invite him into the shower with her? He shuddered and contemplated gathering his courage and going for it..or fleeing like a frightened rabbit, then dismissed both ideas just as quickly as they'd come. This was Liz, his other half. That she loved him he had no doubt. That she lusted after him he also had no doubt. But he didn't think that she was ready for that next critical step yet. Even now the stench of Tess was still strong.

In typical Max-like fashion he was ignoring the feelings that were even now seeping into his soul through their connection. Trying to dismiss them as his own wishful thinking. He was completely unaware that Liz had finished washing up long ago and was herself standing under an icy stream of water, trying to quell the longing in her heart, and that she had a fire in her belly to match or even surpass his own. One that burned only for him.

The water stopped and Max sprang away from the door, releasing the knob as if it burned. He stood there for a moment and listened. He could hear her humming softly to herself as she moved around in the bathroom.

"This is getting me no where," he thought. "I'm getting myself worked for nothing. Because that's what's going to happen today. Nothing!" He sighed and dropped his stuff on a chair and looked around the room. The only comfortable place looked to be Liz's bed. Max walked over and lay down, first on his back. Unable to get comfortable he rolled over on his stomach and brought his arms up under one of her pillows, pulling it to him and inhaling. Her scent again, mingled with his own. Mingled. He shuddered. "Why does every other word I use seems to have sexual connotations?" he berated himself. He took a deep breath and willed himself muscle by muscle to relax and wait for Liz to finish in the bathroom. Max eventually began to relax and doze a bit.

That's where Liz found him fifteen minutes later. Thus lighting a very short fuse on a very big bomb. Metaphorically and hormonally speaking.....

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

Author's Note: I had thought of ending an already overlong Part 12 right here. However, I've reconsidered. Due to the fact that I do not want to have to change my name and move to Argentina, here's the rest of the story. Run and get your munchies or drinks, and smoke 'em if you got 'em. Cuz' there's gratuitous Dreamer nookie ahead.

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

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.


STILL YOURS - Part 12c
(Cement Mixing For Dummies)

Liz emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel. She unwrapped her towel and studied herself critically in the wardrobe mirror on her closet door. She'd always thought herself to be spare and boyish, so she tried to see herself through Max's eyes. The long straight silky hair, the warm chocolate colored eyes, the high cheek bones. An average mouth, a delicate chin. Her eyes traveled downward past the square shoulders and delicate collar bones, to the small well formed breasts that rode high on her chest. She inhaled and tried to thrust her chest out to increase their apparent size, then broke down into giggles. She ran a hand down her side to one flaring hip then across her flat belly, creeping downward towards the dark triangle below her tummy.

There was a noise behind her. She looked in the mirror, over her shoulder and realized that she wasn't alone. She gasped and lunged for her towel. Clutching it to cover herself she turned and advanced on the bed. Max lay there, his head turned away, apparently oblivious. Testing his awareness through their connection she found him to be drowsy, and only half awake. He was clad only in pants. As she watched he stirred slightly, smooth muscles bunching and relaxing beneath the sun browned satin of his skin. She was suddenly aware of an need to touch that skin, to caress and knead those muscles. To test their texture with her hands. It suddenly occurred to her that the last of the happy times she'd been alone with Max when he was dressed (or undressed) like this was the night before they'd found the orb. So long ago. "To long," said a little voice in the back of her mind. And ultimately, the last time she'd seen his beauty like this was when future Max had sent her to destroy his younger self. Her mouth trembled. Not a good day in her life.

Just then her mental prodding stirred him and he awoke. "Liz?" He started the raise up and turn his head.

"Don't move Max!" she said quickly. "I'm right behind you, and I haven't gotten dressed yet!"

Max froze. His heart started hammering. It sounded like she was only feet from him. Possibly only inches. Right next to the bed? And naked? "Okay, I'm not looking."

Liz moved over to her clothes, though moving *away* from that very male body on her bed was the *last* thing she wanted to do. She had started pawing through them looking for her panties while keeping herself wrapped in the towel when she thought she heard Max groan.

"Max?" Are you all right?"

Max let out what sounded like a sigh. "I'm fine, just a bit tense. It never seems to end. I feel like we're trapped in an episode of The Twilight Zone. The thing is, this is my life. It shouldn't have be *your* life."

Liz had just found her panties and slipped them on when he had spoken. She paused and reached out along the connection between them and touched his mind, intending to console him. What she found shouldn't have surprised her. He was dissembling. Using his usual self-flagellation to hide an embarrassing truth. He wanted her. Right here. Right now. With no fooling around. His lust, his need for her was a palpable thing. Akin to that of a starving man confronted by a feast, knowing that he *must not* take a bite. That he has done nothing to merit such generosity and plenty. Liz stared at the man/boy laying on her bed for a frozen moment, then reached a decision. Modesty and decorum be damned. Maria had been right. *This* was *her* target of opportunity. If they were ever going to take the next step it would be up to her to make the first move. She quietly backed her mind away from his, unnoticed by him as he continued to fight his internal war. She didn't want him to have any idea of what was coming until she was damned good and ready. She walked over and studied the broad sweep of his back like a gourmet reading the menu. The fire in her belly was reaching outward and upward now. Into her chest and along her limbs. She almost giggled as the odd 'butterflies in your tummy' feeling came. What sort of butterflies could survive in a blast furnace? "Is it always like this?" she wondered. "Knowing what you intend to do, yet having no idea what you're doing?" She squared her shoulders. "Enough introspection. Time to put up or shut up. Or is that 'put out'?" This time she *did* giggle.

"Liz?" Max queried.

"It's nothing Max. Just a stray thought. Let me see what I can do about that tension ." She climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. She leaned forward and began to massage his shoulders in long smooth strokes. Slowly kneading those tense muscles trying to soothe away the tension. If she was any judge, she was failing monumentally. Max's breathing was beginning to labor and he moaned softly. "Yup," she thought. "Right on target.

Max was going out of his mind. He could feel the soft skin of her thighs against his sides and back. "L-L-Liz, what are you wearing?"

Liz giggled to herself. "Panties and a T-shirt." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she felt Max stir under her, as if he were uncomfortable.

Indeed he was. He'd had half an erection ever since they'd arrived, and the cold shower hadn't done a thing to relieve it. Now though, the news that his angel...his half naked angel... was straddling his back boosted him to full agonized arousal. He was so hard, that he hurt.

Liz knew that she was having the desired effect, but pretended to be oblivious as she continued to massage his back and shoulders His skin was warm, and every bit as smooth as she had remembered. She slowed her motions further, leaning forward until only inches separated her tummy from the skin of his back. She didn't know whether it was her imagination, or his alien metabolism, but she could feel heat rising off of him. Warming her own skin like a lover's touch. Her loins felt weak and strong at the same time as she resisted the impulse to grind against him. "Not yet quite yet," she thought. Her own breathing was becoming short and shallow, and herbreasts had tightened to the point where they ached. "It's almost time for phase three," she thought languidly.

For his part Max was about to have a stroke. He was certain that Liz had no clue of what she was doing to him. He bit his lip to stifle a groan. He was afraid that if he made any sound she would stop. And equally afraid that if he didn't do something soon, she'd never stop. His body felt so hot that he thought that he was going to burst into flames any second. His groin was throbbing angrily. If she stopped now, he'd have to get off of this bed. And he wasn't sure that he could even manage to sit up, let alone walk. His emotions were so wired that his ability to keep his end of the connection under control was shot to pieces. Thank God that Liz was in control at her end. Otherwise he'd have some serious explaining to do!

Liz hovered above him. "Time for phase three," she thought. So thinking, she acted.

Max was to the point where he couldn't stand it anymore. He was opening his mouth to say so when Liz's hands abandoned his back to slide across his shoulders and down his arms, where they were curled under her pillow. As she did so she whispered, "Max? You know that t-shirt I'm wearing? I lied." With that a great deal of warm..no *hot*....silky smooth skin to come into contact with his, as she slid her body up his back. He could feel her breasts against his back, rubbing every so slightly. Her belly was against his lower back and her breath was warm on his neck.

Liz sighed with pleasure as the contact she had denied herself, skin to skin, was made. She laid her cheek on one powerful shoulder.. She felt him jump, then go rigidly still. "God, this is heaven all by itself," she thought. "If actual lovemaking is *better* than this, I may not survive it!" She stroked one shoulder blade with her cheek and inhaled blissfully. His scent was different now. More erotic. More...everything. Whether it was a change in him, or simply his normal scent filtering through her lust saturated synapses she didn't know. But the effect was immediate. The fire in her belly exploded, sending internal shock waves racing through her body. She wanted to eat him alive! Suiting deeds to needs she began using sharp teeth to nip delicately at the smooth skin of his shoulders. Alternating teeth with tender kisses and laving an inch at a time with her tongue she was slowly and deliberately going to drive him out of his mind. "Oh my! He tastes as good as he smells!" she thought. She felt him begin to tremble under her, and she crooned softly as she continued her ministrations to his back and shoulders.

When Max felt her sharp little teeth on his back, followed by tiny gentle kisses, and warm wet tongue, his muscles began having small uncontrollable tremors. Struggling internally he managed to find his voice, only to discover that his speech center was apparently spastic, because he was stuttering.

"L-L-Liz?"

"Hmmmm?" she responded.

"W-w-what a-are you doing?"

Liz chuckled slightly. "You, of all people, should know. But if you need proof....." She threw the connection wide open and let herself flow into and through him, like warm honey.

Max was stunned as warmth poured through the connection and into his soul. Lust, love, and a crystal clear intention that honored him, even as it humbled him. And there was amusement too.

Liz was sliding down his back now, still nipping and planting tiny kisses as her hands continued to wander over him. He groaned aloud as her breasts traced trails of fire on either side of his spine. Then he heard her mind voice.

"~Mmmmm! God do you taste good! Y'know, this is one use for telepathy that I'd never imagined.... I can still talk to you while my mouth is busy. In fact, my mind boggles at the possibilities.~"

Liz proceeded to send him a very clear picture of one of those possibilities that almost made him lose it on the spot.

"~Max? I'm going to lift myself up. Turn over Sweetheart. Please?~"

Max rolled over and saw her above him, regarding him with heavy lidded smoky eyes. Up until this moment he'd been half certain that he was dreaming. He studied her as she hovered over him. Surely God Almighty in his infinite wisdom had never created a more beautiful girl than then one above him now. God, she was perfection itself! "~Liz? Are you sure that you know what you're doing?~"

She leaned over him, letting her hair fall forward to brush his chest. "~I think I do,~" she spoke playfully. "~But if you want me to stop...just say so.~"

Max groaned. When you're in hog heaven, you do NOT make waves in the mud. Their connection was wide open, so he knew beyond doubt that she wasn't in the mood to stop, though he'd have to slow her down...or this would be over before it really got started. "~Good God, no Liz! I just want to be sure that *you're* sure!~"

She gave him a curious half smile then she leaned forward to claim his mouth with hers. "~I've never been more sure of anything in my life!~"

That was all the encouragement that Max needed. His arms went around her, his hands sliding slowly down her back. They paused at her panties for only a moment before dipping under the waist band to cup her bottom firmly. Then Liz squealed in sudden surprise as Max flipped her on to her back, reversing their position. She was hyper-aware of his weight pressing down between her thighs.

Max spoke aloud as he gently but firmly closed down there connection. "No more mind talk. I'm afraid that if things go the way that I think they will, we'll merge...and, I don't want that. I want to stay Max Evans, making love to Liz Parker, every step of the way."

Liz reached up to stroke his cheek. "And I want to be Liz Parker, being made love to by Max Evans." she said softly.

Max leaned over and kissed her softly, lingering for a moment before trailing tiny kisses along her jaw, moving towards her throat. "Good, then we agree."

He paused to suck gently on a pulse point.

Liz whimpered softly. It was getting hard to breathe...and she didn't care.

With that Max completely assumed the initiative, and began a slow and careful exploration of her body, returning the attention she had paid his, with compound interest. There wasn't a square inch of skin that escaped his loving mouth and hands. When he reached her right breast, he stopped, hovering for a moment, letting his warm breath caress her skin. Then, in a playful move he pursed his lips and blew gently. The cool air caused her aureole to crinkle and tighten. While he was teasing her breast, one of his hands slid into her panties to gently caress the curls there.

Liz gave a soft moan. Her nerve endings were doing a ecstatic dance. He was taking this slowly, so slowly that he was going to kill her before it was over!

"Max?" she said softly.

"Hmmmm?" he answered.

"Hasn't it struck you yet that we're both still overdressed?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Well, I hadn't really run out of skin to explore yet, but if you're getting impatient...."

She made a frustrated sound. "You know, you can still be a *jerk* sometimes Max Evans!"

He raised himself up and slid higher so that he could see her face. Without pausing he seized her mouth with his own, plunging his tongue in aggressively, as his hand cupped the breast he'd just abandoned. His mouth was working magic with hers while his thumb gently worked circles around her nipple.

Liz was sinking into a sea of sensations that she'd only imagined before when she felt his leg insinuate itself between hers. A heartbeat later she felt warm pressure against her sex as his leg began to move. Her hips bucked as she surrendered to the need to move against him. Just as her hold on sanity was starting to evaporate, he stopped and pulled back.

"You first," he said.

Liz was panting now, and her lust addled brain couldn't make sense of what he'd said. "Me first what?"

Max smirked and pointed. "My jeans? Your panties? Remember? You first." It was a damned good thing that the connection was closed. He was as close to the edge as she was...so stopping had been a heroic effort, but worth it for the look on her face.

She growled and slapped at him playfully. "Like I said...jerk!" Then her face changed, adopting a crafty look. "You do it."

Max suddenly looked solemn. He gulped. "Er....what?"

Liz grinned. "*You* take them off of me."

Max licked his lips. THIS was a boyhood fantasy come true! Elizabeth Parker was asking him to undress her! Well...*finish* undressing her anyway! Max took a deep breath, spared a moment to give her a soft kiss, then slid downward rising to his knees. He fumbled a moment then hooked his fingers around the elastic. Liz raised her hips to help him as he slid the panties off of her. There was a heavy scent in the air, redolent of Liz... and something else. Whatever it was it seeped into his blood, and stole his reason. Max began to slide upward, kissing his way up her tummy, but Liz's firm hand on his shoulder halted his Northward progress.

"Not so fast Buster! I showed you mine, now you show me yours!"

Max chuckled as he straight-armed himself clear of her body and arched his back downward. "What goes around comes around," he intoned.

Liz understood his meaning, but wrinkled her nose. "Was that a pun? Never mind! I don't want to know!" With shaky hands she reached down between their bodies and unbuttoned his jeans, then began tugging at them awkwardly. Their relative positions afforded her no leverage.

Just as she was about to growl with frustration he relented and carefully rolled sideways, swinging his feet to the floor. As he stood up he let his jeans and boxers slide off in a single motion, then he paused...suddenly shy, before turning to let Liz see him completely for the first time.

At first she didn't look, choosing instead to hold his eyes with hers. She noticed the way his eyes traveled over her body. Pausing here, pausing there. "Like a man at a buffet, trying to decide what to go for first," she thought with a suppressed smile. Then she was struck by the incongruous way her thoughts were running. "Damn! We both missed lunch! That's where all these damned food metaphors are coming from!" As if on cue, her stomach growled menacingly. She groaned in embarrassment and flopped backwards, covering her eyes with her hand.

Max heard Liz's belly rumble and looked up, giving her a half smile. "You're hungry? Isn't that only supposed to happen *afterwards? Wanna call a break and get some lunch?" At this point, he really didn't think that he could do that without screaming in frustration, but for her he'd manage somehow.

Liz jerked her hand away from her eyes, propped herself back up, and growled in a way that made Max shiver.

"Look buster...there's only ONE thing that I'm hungry for right now, and lunch isn't it! And if I don't get it soon, I'll pin just you down, and *take* it! Now quit stalling!

Max saw an almost feral gleam in his lover's eyes, and held his hands up in a mock defensive gesture. "Your wish is my command." "And as it happens," he added silently, "*my* wish too!"

As her lover lowered himself to join her Liz finally allowed herself the luxury of a lingering perusal of his body. Very lingering. After a moment of virginal "that's never gonna fit" fright she sighed. The Greek Gods themselves had never owned a body half so good. And as good as it looked, it felt even better when he cautiously stretched out beside her, leaning into her side. She felt his hardness against the outside of her thigh and wondered if all... er... such... things... were... as.... um... HOT! "Bite your lip Liz!" was all that she had time to think, then she had other things to think about and her mouth had other things to do as Max leaned in for a kiss, and his hands began to gently roam her body again.

Max was in heaven and hell at the same time. He was in bed with Liz, and there was nothing separating them any longer. Not even clothing. Her skin was so smooth under his hands and her smell so intoxicating that he was fighting a moment to moment battle to hold back long enough to let them enjoy the preliminaries of their love play. After thoroughly tasting her mouth again he moved back to her breast that he'd abandoned what seemed like a century ago.

Liz burning now. Whatever was to happen wouldn't be long in coming. She felt Max's warm breath on her right breast has his hand moved studied gentleness over her tummy, sliding lower. He was teasing her skin gently with lips, teeth, and tongue, as she had with him. Moving in small circles, but always avoiding her nipple. And it was driving her out of her mind. She was about to say so when he abandoned pretense. His mouth descended hungrily on her breast. To Liz it felt like someone was feeding high voltage into her body. Her already high state of arousal wound itself higher, reaching an impossible level. She was dancing on the edge of a precipice. Her moans keeping pace with what he was doing to her. As his tongue began slow circuits around her nipple his hand reached home, to her center. His index finger probed gently, testing her reaction. When he found the spot she bucked uncontrollably. He wasn't being subtle anymore. It took only a few quick yet gentle strokes and she was gone. Her body spasmed, her thighs clamping down on his hand, muscle tremors started in her belly and swept outward in waves along her body. She had never in her life felt anything like it before. It was pleasure, it was bliss, it was fulfillment. And most of all, it was Max. "M-A-A-X!" burst from her lips in a lingering primal wail.

Max was so intent on pleasing Liz that when she came so quickly and violently it took him by surprise. All he could do is hold on for the ride, happy that he could do this for her. And shocked that, when his name burst out of her lips, his own lust seemed to flare higher. They hadn't taken the final step yet, but as of this moment they were lovers. Even if they went no further, his soul would be content...even if his body was still filled with a fierce aching need.

He continued stroking her ever so gently as the her climax subsided, leaving small intermittent muscle spasms rippling in it's wake. Eventually he felt her move, and felt her hand in his hair. He lifted his mouth away from her breast and met her eyes. Tears shimmered there. She blinked them away and spoke in a husky voice. "Max, that was most wonderful, most intense, most....everything that I've ever known. All the times I've played this out in my imagination...in my dreams...and the fantasy paled next to the reality. She tugged at him gently, and he moved upwards to meet her in a tender kiss that quickly deepened with promise. Pulling back she lay back on the pillow. Reaching with her hand up to his face she stroked gently, and brushed an errant lock of hair back. "Thank you Sweetheart, thank you," she said softly.

Max smiled as his hand traced lazily around her breasts. "The pleasure was all mine." She pinched him and he jumped. "Well, all ours anyway. Are you okay? Still hungry?"

Liz grinned. Inside she was shuddering again, on a build up to detonation, but the input that was stoking her furnace was coming from additional sources now. The love and lust were still there, but now the uncertainty was gone. Max was totally at ease with touching her. As his hand casually stroked her body, his eyes never left hers. "Max,don't even *think* about food yet! I'm still hungry all right, but only in the carnal sense." She could feel his hardness against her hip, and she shifted deliberately to emphasize her next point. "We have unfinished business!"

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.


STILL YOURS - Part 12d
(Cement Mixing For Dummies)

Max shifted uncomfortably as he felt Liz move against him. There was no doubt that it was deliberate. "Liz, are you sure? I mean, I can wai....." He never finished because she pushed herself up, cupped the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss, and effectively silencing him. The kiss lasted a long time.

Liz was exasperated. What did he think that she was? A tease? She was afraid that if she spoke she'd kill the mood by being sharp with him, so she took the direct route, taking his mouth with hers, and thrusting her tongue in demandingly in the first instant. *That* shut him up! When she broke the kiss she backed away and tugged at him, pulling him on top of her, and spreading her thighs to accommodate him. As his hardness pressed against her softness she felt her breath catch as her heart began to accelerate again. She brought her arms up around his neck as Max looked at her trustingly. "Max, when I started this I was sure. I'm still sure. I had no doubt in my mind that when I got in this bed, I would be giving you my virginity, here and now. And we're not leaving this bed until it's yours." She began to work herself against him, and felt his answering movement. Then she pulled him down into another kiss and, as their tongues dueled, she felt him begin to assume the initiative again. She broke the kiss as the tempo of her movements increased, and gasped out..."Max, make love to me! *Now*!"

On a day whose coming that he had once scarcely allowed himself to imagine, Max was certain that it couldn't get any better than it already was....until he heard her gasping plea. He raised himself up and looked at her. There was no more time for talk. Liz stilled her urgency and met his eyes. Her own face was flushed, her eyes were so wild that he was certain he saw her need in them. She simply spread her legs further and lifted her knees. This was the moment of truth. Max still had one or two functioning brain cells left so he managed to gasp..."Protection?"

Liz understood and shook her head. "No need. My GYN put me on the pill when I was sixteen. We're safe." She kissed him and moved again, gently. "Max? Please?"

Max gave in to their mutual need. He lifted himself further and, using one hand to guide himself he sought, and found what he was looking for. He thrust forward gently and heard her gasp as he entered. He looked up, concerned, but Liz shook her head. "Please Max, go ahead," she whispered.

When Max felt himself enter her, the feeling was utterly indescribable. Like entering a silken vice. In all his imaginings of this moment, he'd never even come close to the reality. And those imaginings had never incorporated the comforting beckoning heat that welcomed him into her body The muscles in his thighs and stomach were trembling, not with strain, but with the frustrated need to take over and sheath himself completely in that heat. It took every scrap of his vaunted ingrained self-control to hold back and let his Beloved adjust to his intrusion. After a moment he eased forward further, backed off, then forward again, going deeper. The agony of need versus restraint, overlayed with unearthly pleasure, was delicious, and this was only the beginning.

Liz was holding her breath as Max stretched her to unaccustomed proportions. She almost whimpered, but bit her lip. She knew that if Max thought he was hurting her, he'd drop the whole thing....even at this point. And that was *NOT* going to happen! Her breath came in short gasps as Max moved in further, coming finally to her maidenhead. He looked up at her, for permission. Liz nodded and reached up to pull him close. Partly because she wanted him close at this moment. And partly because, if the pain was severe, she didn't want him to see it on her face. "Now Max," she said in a sweet husky voice.

Max summoned his courage and thrust forward firmly. There was a moment of resistance, and then he was inside her, completely surrounded by the woman he'd loved for so long. It was fulfillment, full, round, and complete. Every time she shifted, even slightly, her internal grip on him changed. He could feel her heart beating from the *inside*. Every pulse was transmitted through his hardness, and into his body. That, together with the wet heat inside, was nearly enough to set him off in that instant. Then, the glory of the moment dimmed as he heard her pained whimper. "Liz? Liz?! Are you okay?" He tried to raise himself off of her so he could see her face, but her arms refused to release him.

Liz was still holding her breath, but the discomfort was easing. The pain was passing. When Max tried to pull back she refused to relinquish her hold on him. When he asked if she was okay, she simply pulled him closer and stroked her jaw against his neck. There were tears in her eyes, but she wasn't sure if they were from the pain, or the happiness. "I'm okay Love, just hold still and give me a minute. This isn't an everyday thing. Just let me...", she moved her hips experimentally, "....drive for a minute or two. I'll be fine. *We'll* be fine!" She stroked his back gently as she continued to test their new intimacy. "I love you, Max."

Max was caught again between heaven and hell. He trembled as he held back the urge to thrust, to completely claim her as his. But at the same time the feeling of being fully inside her was beyond description, beyond any fantasy his hormone driven imagination could have created. As Liz moved her hips gently, testing their union and her tolerance for his invasion, he groaned softly. God how he loved her! He put his need firmly aside and let her have control while simply enjoying the moment, savoring every nuance. "I love you too, Liz."

After a few minutes, Liz felt comfortable. More than comfortable. Now every movement she made was fraught with pleasure. She released her grip on Max and let him raise himself up high enough to see her face. She was smiling now. A pouty sensuous smile. She pulled him back down into a loving and deep kiss, which he pursued wholeheartedly. Her hips began to move in a demanding motion. She released his mouth and whispered, "Okay Your Majesty, your turn to drive."

Max gave a stifled groan as he moved experimentally. "No MiLady Liz, we'll *both* drive!"

Liz had had enough words and tested for any remaining discomfort by bucking against him....hard. There wasn't any, or so little that it didn't matter. She sighed and relaxed, but not for long. As Max began to move, cautiously at first, she let him find his pace then strove to match him. The pace he set was slow. Torturous. Lingering. Liz drew her knees higher, lifting her feet, and crossing them over her Lover. Together they found that silken rhythm that exists for all pure lovers, that harmony that exists somewhere between perfection and eternity. They'd both waited a long time for this, and it had been worth it. Max was moving faster now, and Liz matched him. As the energy between them began to build, and inspite of their resolve to avoid fusion, the flashes came. In a rapid flickering slide show, Liz saw scenes of Max's life, their time together both the good and the bad, and one scene that she had expected....even if she would have preferred to do without it. The observatory. There was something disturbing about the image...over and above the obvious, but rather than let the past derail her, she thrust it aside and let the moment carry her along towards the end that wouldn't be long in coming. All that mattered now was the moment, the man in her arms and her body, their pleasure, and their love. Their pace was faster now. She could feel her climax building, and she made no effort to hold back. With her rapidly approaching completion she heard a wordless wail, beginning softly, but building in volume, and she vaguely recognized the voice as her own. And she didn't give a damn. There would be no more holding back, ever again. They were lovers now, they were one, and with that thought she abandoned herself to the great wave of soundless thunder that rose up out of her body to claim her conscious mind as completely as her Max had claimed her heart, her body.....and her soul.

Max had been struggling to hold himself in check from the instant he'd entered her body. After so many years of denial, the magic and wonder of this moment had placed him on the ragged edge. This was the ultimate achievement of all his hopes, his dreams, and his fantasies. More than that, it surpassed all of them. The torture of withholding his own completion was more than compensated for by the surpassing love he felt as they moved together. She was perfect, she was beautiful, and she was his. After that, the silken sensations that continued to assault his self-control were the icing on the cake, but it was *some* icing. Even as he tried to withhold his release, some barely rational part of his mind knew that he couldn't stave off the inevitable forever. So when Liz began to keen, and he felt her body begin to spasm, the sense of relief was nearly as powerful as the release itself. As she clenched him inside her body he gave in completely to his need, he simply abandoned himself to the raw exquisite ecstasy that hurled him over the precipice after her. It was more than just a climax. The French call it 'the little death'. There was nothing 'little' about this. As he felt the deep shuddering contractions of his body surrendering his essence to hers, there was only one thing his overtaxed mind could do. It blacked out.

Liz lay motionless, still wrapped tightly around her lover, unwilling to let go. She was feeling lazy and content. As she waited for her breathing and heartbeat to slow she stroked his hair and stared at the ceiling of her room. She'd looked at it a thousand times, lying in this bed. "Why does it look different now?" she wondered. Then she giggled quietly. "Oh yeah! This is the first time I'm seeing it...post-virginity!" Max had been still since, well, since they'd both come, but she wasn't worried yet. She liked the position she was in too much to worry. She felt too good to worry. Besides, their connection was intact, and if anything it was stronger, more controllable. She knew that he was out like the proverbial light, but that he was okay. It was like she could actually *read* his life signs. She smiled. "Hello," she said softly. "Meet Liz Parker, the living EEG/EKG machine." She continued to stroke Max's hair as she held him close and gently rubbed the side of her head against his. At that moment Max groaned.

Max came back to awareness in a very good place. Post-lovemaking, still inside the love of his life, wrapped in her arms and legs, and too happy for words. He could feel her hands stroking his hair, and moving over his back. And the gentle rubbing of her cheek against his. He stirred briefly and made as if to lift himself off of her, but her hold tightened, trapping him thoroughly. Liz relented enough to let him raise his head. So he could see her face. And vice versa.

Max regarded Liz silently for a moment, then spoke. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Liz smiled at him. "I'm better than okay. I imagine I'll be a little sore later, at least that's what I was...er..told to expect. It comes with the territory."

Max frowned. "The territory?"

Liz's smile morphed into a wicked grin. "Why being a newly fallen woman of course. You *do* remember what just happened here?" Her grin faded as she studied Max's face.

Max's face looked solemn now. "Until my dying day...I'm not likely to forget." He kissed her and rested his forehead against hers. "Y'know, I didn't think that it was possible to love you more than I did already. I was wrong." He paused significantly. "Liz Parker, I love you more than my own life. Thank you for loving me back."

Liz opened her mouth to answer, but her stomach beat her to the punch. It growled. Loudly. She groaned and turned pink with embarrassment at her body's betrayal. "I'm sorry!" she managed to sputter.

Max simply eyed her with amusement tinged with renewed desire. "Much as I'd love to stay here like this all day, we'd better get you some food. I want to keep your energy up....for later."

Liz's blush deepened, and she shivered at the sexy tone in his voice. There would be a later for them. If not today, then tomorrow, or the day after. But there *would be* a later. Something that she'd given up on until Isabel had intervened. Thoughts of Isabel brought reality crashing into their little bubble of paradise. Liz sighed and slowly slackened her grip on Max. He kissed her and began to move off of her. She felt a little tug at her heart as their union came apart. But now they could renew it anytime that they wished. They were lovers! Liz shifted and tried to sit up. She winced at the sudden pain.

Max saw the brief flicker of pain. "I knew it! You're hurt!"

Liz shook her head. "Max, like I said, it's normal. And nothing that I can't handle."

Max shook his head. "Call me macho and pushy, but you aren't going to 'handle' it if *I* can handle it *for* you."

So saying he gently, but firmly, slid a hand between her thighs. As the hand began to glow softly Liz sighed and closed her eyes. The warmth of the healing energy penetrated and soothed her abused tissues, relieving her pain. The healing done, he left his hand there a little longer than necessary, then began to withdraw.

Before Max could finish pulling his hand back, Liz seized it and brought to her lips. "I love you Max, and thank you." She paused, and grinned. "But if I develop a silver handprint down there, your life will not be worth living!"

Max grinned back. "Does it matter? Is anyone *else* likely to see it if it does?"

Liz blushed. "No one that *counts*...but hello! PhysEd? Locker room? Showers?"

Max laughed. "Relax Love, I used the low power setting this time! No handprint. I promise!"

Liz sighed with mock relief. "Good! I'd hate to have to field questions about the...er...unique tattoo." She stood up. "We need to shower...again. You go back and use my parents shower again, while I make a quick check on the laundry." She threw on a wrap and was about to leave when Max grabbed her.

"Ah ah little girl! Pay toll first!"

A lingering kiss settled that.

A few minutes later she'd transferred the darks to the dryer and started the cycle. After she started the underwear cycling she headed back to her own bathroom to clean up. She still thought that her bra and panties were hopeless, but it was worth a try.

Their clean up went more quickly this time. For one thing, there was less to clean up. For another, they couldn't stand being out of each other's sight for that long. Fifteen minutes later they were plundering the Parker kitchen. After a scratch lunch of sandwiches and potato salad they were at loose ends, so they went into the living room and stretched out on the couch. Both were too content, too sated, to bother with anything more than a few gentle kisses accompanied by frequent tender touching. Liz settled back against Max and let his arms enfold her. For the first time in an eternity she was one hundred percent, no doubt about it, happy....with the prospect that the aforementioned condition would go on into the future indefinitely. It was a nice place to be.

Liz sighed happily and snuggled closer as she replayed the last few hours in her mind. "Note to self," she thought. "Remember to thank Pam Troy tomorrow for the best day of my life!" Liz was feeling smug in a "cat that ate the canary" sort of way when her erotic replay brought her up against the one dark spot in her inventory. The flash. The observatory.

Prior to her complete union with Max, that flash would have blown her ego completely out of the water. Now though, secure in herself and in Max's love for her, she could regard it in a detached, almost clinical fashion. And what she saw was troubling. She thought about the implications for a moment, then she nudged their connection.

Max's arms tightened slightly around her. "~Yes Sweetheart?~"

Liz hesitated, then plunged ahead. "~Max? When we were..umm..~"

"~...making love?~" he finished for her, sounding every bit as smug as she had been a moment before.

Max gave a slight 'Oof!' as her elbow jabbed him lightly. "~Yes, that would be it. When we were making love, did you see flashes?~"

Max chuckled and gave her a gentle squeeze. "~As a matter of fact, I did. I saw you. I saw us. I saw good times and bad.~" He paused. "~I take it from your question that you saw things too?~"

Liz hesitated again, looking for the words. "~Yes, I did. And they were pretty much what you saw, with one exception. Please Love, I want you to understand that this doesn't upset me, and I don't want to upset *you*, but I saw the Observatory. You and Tess. And there was something very wrong with it!~" She felt Max stiffen behind her, and she could feel it through the connection as his buoyant mood began to sink.

"~Liz, I'm sorry. I know that it was wro...~" he began, only to have her cut him off by sitting up and turning towards him. When he saw her face he was expecting hurt, what he saw was worry.

"Max stop it!" she said aloud. "Reach out to me through our connection. Feel me. I'm not angry or hurt. I'm worried. This wasn't wrong as in, you were wrong. It was wrong in the sense of something didn't look right or feel right! Something was off, screwed up!"

Max sighed. "Show me."

She sent him the memory.

Max winced then looked guilty. "That's what I remember Liz. I'm sorry Love. I wish that I didn't!"

Liz sat there stewing. He'd just verified it as something from him. From *his* memories. But it *felt* weird. Like she'd been seeing a double negative. A picture over a picture. Blurry. Not at all like the flashes she'd gotten from his life before. She reached a decision.

Max watched Liz with some trepidation, he could sense her thinking furiously. It caused a 'roar' of white noise in their connection. Abruptly it ceased. He waited nervously.

Liz leaned over and kissed him, while snuggling closer through their connection, to calm his obvious fear. "Max, something isn't right. I think that 'memory' is a warp. At least a partial one. And I think that you can't see it because you're conditioned *not* to. It's like you can't see the forest for the trees. *But* I *can* see it, and there's an odd blurring in it that *isn't* in any of the other flashes I've gotten from you." Max opened his mouth to speak, but she hurried onwards. "I want to try something. I want to try the fusion again. But this time instead of rubbing the lamp and having the genie pop out, I want to have the 'genie' check the lamp over, and give it a housecleaning, if that's possible."

Max looked stunned. "I'd never thought of..." He paused. "It might not be safe. And besides, that blurring might just be me trying to hide the truth from myself."

Liz nodded. "You're right, it might not be safe, but the only way to find out is to try it." She scooted towards him and pulled him close, laying her head on his chest. "This is the great unknown Love. We can't afford to be timid anymore. I know you now, completely. Your mind, your heart and your body." She grinned wickedly at that last. "I know that something isn't right!"

Max chuckled. "You're inspiring, you know that? You should do infomercials on courage!"

Liz looked up. "I'll take that as a yes. When?"

Max studied her eyes and tested her intention through their connection, seeking doubt. He found none. He sighed. "Now?"

Liz nodded, "~Now!~, as she thrust her consciousness down the connection towards Max. He met her halfway.

**FUSION**

IT was awake again, and with an interesting mission. Mental hygiene. Interesting. Acting on the wishes of it's constituents it began a search, running through meme file after meme file. Comparing, contrasting, testing, and the picture that emerged would have made it curse, had it been capable of such. What a mess! The max component had damage all over his cortex and cerebrum, like heavy boot prints in soft sand. And the liz wasn't exactly pristine either! It rolled up it's metaphorical sleeves and cautiously approached the major damage in question. To It's 'sight' the mind warp appeared to be a tangled knot of foreign memes, totally obscuring the original meme pattern. Reaching out it tugged at a loose end and with a metaphorical *ping* the knot dissolved like spun sugar, leaving the original meme intact and clear of obstruction. Satisfied it began a sweep, touching a knot here, a knot there, dissolving blockages, making repairs. Had it possessed feet it would have been tapping them while whistling a jaunty tune. In moments it was done except for one troubling spot in the liz's memory. It looked like a warp, it behaved like a warp, but it had a totally different signature. Once again moving with caution it tugged at the blockage. It was stubborn. The damage was trivial and It considered leaving it, but a directive was a directive. It bore down, and the blockage shattered. There was no damage. The meme was clear. It's job was done. This time Coming had been easier, and the Going would be easier still, for the Union was finally complete. Time to sleep again.

**FISSION**

Max and Liz returned to awareness staring into each other's eyes. They both waited for the crushing exhaustion that they had known in previous fusions. It didn't come. They were tired, but no more so than normal. Why this was so was a puzzle that they could solve later. For now their connection was active, but they weren't sharing...yet. They were both too busy processing their common trove of information, both the new, and the old as seen in the light of the newly revealed. One thing was clear. They would have a LOT to share at tonight's 'family' meeting.

However it all paled against one issue that brought tears welling out of Liz's eyes as Max stared at her with tender reverence. He knew the source of those tears, for it was swelling a lump in his own throat as well. What brute fate had stolen from them their love, as well as Liz's intelligence and courage, had just restored. Liz lunged at him, kissing him desperately, her tongue imploring immediate entrance into his mouth. When the they finally separated, Liz lay her head on his chest, overwhelmed yet completely content. And through the connection Max heard these words. Her mind voice whispered them to him like a prayer of thanksgiving, drenched in happy tears.

"~*I* was *your* first too!~"

End of Part 12

Title: Still Yours
Author: KK
Disclaimer: The characters that count in this do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I simply borrowed them from someone else's toy box.
Category: Crossover Roswell/Highlander A/I +CC
Rating: MATURE shifting to ADULT later on.

STILL YOURS - Part 13a
(Thanks For The Memories)

16 Miles East of Seattle On I-90....4:00 PM

For this trip Methos had left the Caddy in the garage and instead chosen the nondescript battered Ford Bronco that he used when he wanted to be inconspicuous. The only way that SUV would have attracted attention is if someone had popped the hood. It's power plant was something more than what factory specs called for. You never knew when you might need those extra horses. The Boy Scouts live by the creed, 'always be prepared'. Methos hadn't lived five thousand years by being imprudent. His own creed was, always prepared for *everything*!

"Where exactly is this place?" asked Richie from his position riding 'shotgun'.

Methos checked his watch. They only had a few hours to reconnoiter, then they had to be back for the nightly Conterras hunt. A glance in the rearview mirror told him that their tail was still there. He was good, but not invisible. "It's a couple of miles past Preston, up against Tiger Mountain State Forest. The only reason that I know about it is that I have my country place about four miles North of here off of 202. And I like to know the territory around *anywhere* that I live. Old habit."

Richie grunted and settled back trying to relax as they passed through the small town of Preston, Washington. He was understandably jumpy. Methos had spotted their tail before they'd even made it out of the city. They'd pulled over at a truck stop in Bellevue, ostensibly to let Methos relieve himself. Their tail had stopped with them. While Richie had hung around the Bronco, Methos had found some cover and used a compact, yet powerful, monocular to get the car's license number. After that, a quick call by cell phone to Joe Dawson, who had used a reliable..spell that w-e-l-l p-a-i-d...informant at the DMV to get the owner's background, turned up the fact that the car was attached to a licensed if somewhat shady private detective agency.

Richie sighed. So their enemy had local talent on the job, as well as a personal flunky. He saw Methos glance in the mirror again and felt the Bronco slow slightly. Irritated, he spoke up. "I still don't see why we aren't trying to ditch this guy, instead of making things easier for him."

Methos chuckled. "Patience young Jedi!" Then he went on in a more serious tone. "We want him to know about this place. When Musa hits town, we want him to be able to find us. I've talked this over with Duncan, and we're pretty sure that Britanicus' time table is set. That pack of jackals on his estate can't be kept on the leash for very long. So he has to follow his schedule, whether we cooperate or not. And time is probably so short now that this gumshoe of his probably won't be able to get a complete recon job done before Musa *has* to move."

Richie shrugged. "Okay, you two are the old hands at this. I just work here." He paused a moment. "They told me about what they did to Alex and his girl last night."

Methos was about to answer when he stiffened and leaned forward. "Here we are!" He slowed and cut the wheel, turning into a weed grown track that might once have been a private driveway."

They drove about three hundred yards before arriving at a rambling two story brick and masonry building. It had the look of long abandonment. The windows were shuttered and boarded up. Rank brush grew up against it. They got out of the Bronco and approached the front door. Methos removed a key from his pocket and stuck it in the heavy front door. The lock operated smoothly. "Preparation young Jedi. Preparation. On the off hand that I might one day need an emergency bolt hole I checked on this place. It's completely abandoned. The land was attached to the Tiger Mountain Reserve by eminent domain nearly fifty years ago. The roof is slate, so it's still pretty sound. A weekend of work let me swap out the door locks...for which I now possess the only keys." They entered what looked like a lobby reception area. "It's over built too. Like a fortress. The ground floor windows are high off the ground."

Richie glanced around. There was a thick coat of dust everywhere. This place was old. "What is this place?"

Methos chuckled. "It dates back to the late frontier days. It's an insane asylum. One from back in the bad old days when they didn't even try to cure them. They just warehoused them until they either died of old age, or they got better on their own. Usually the former."

Richie chuckled wryly. "A nut house? Perfect. How appropriate."

Methos grinned. "It is *that*." He gestured. "The ground floor is offices and a high security wing. The upper floor was for the less violent patients. I think that any building built to keep dangerous people *in* will also serve to keep dangerous people *out*."

Richie nodded. "And the construction doesn't hurt. It isn't fire *proof*, but it'll still be hard to burn it down on top of us."

Methos nodded. "I thought that we could set up camp here in the lobby and fall back into the high security area when the time comes. It's the most fortified part of the building. Bars on the windows, metal doors, almost like a prison."

Richie was lost in thought for a moment. Then he turned to Methos. "You didn't comment on what I said when we pulled in here."

Methos sighed. "What do you want me to say? I disagreed with it. I made my feelings known. What else can I do? They're adults, and it's not like I have *that* much influence with Cass. We aren't a couple." "Yet," he added silently.

Richie shrugged. "It's nice to know that I'm not alone."

Methos shook his head. "They were right about one thing though. We need to keep Alex's lady away for a while. Her timing in finding him was... inconvenient to say the least. If they had simply settled for giving her a temporary dose of forgetfulness, I might have acquiesced. But they were afraid that Alex would take exception to their treatment of her, so they made it a clean sweep." He sighed explosively. "All of which makes taking down Conterras imperative. If something happens to Alex, he may follow up on his threat against the girl. I don't know if Alex told her about that, but either way you play it she's a sitting duck. If Alex buys it in this mess, I'll owe it to him to kill Conterras."

Richie nodded. "If I live out the week, I'll second you." They shook on it. "Now, lets look this place over."

Methos grinned. "There's a pump for well water out back. It was rusted tight, but I took care of that. And there's a guard shack and walk on the roof, accessible only from *inside* the building..."

Together they surveyed what was to become their group's redoubt. Planning for contingencies, listing supplies needed, and laying out a plan of defense. It would serve them well. And it would be the scene of the most ferocious defense since the Alamo. It also would not see sunrise the following Monday in one piece.....


Roswell, New Mexico, The UFO Museum....6:45 PM

Max Evans pulled into the small employee's parking area behind the UFO museum to find the Sheriff's SUV, Kyle's Mustang, and Maria's Jetta already there. He got out of the car and walked around the front of the Chevelle to open Liz's door and help her from the car. Liz and he had been spared any awkward explanations about... things.... when her mother called around 5:30 PM to say that they'd met some old friends at the vendor's show, and that she and Mr. Parker would be staying in Albuquerque over night to catch up on things. This seemed like both a blessing and a curse. For one thing it meant that Jeff and Nancy trusted them together, probably due in no small part to their willingness to bow to the parental demands the night before. The downside to that was that they had both heinously violated that trust this afternoon. "Still," he thought , as he opened the door and took Liz's hand, "I wouldn't change it if I could." He looked at her entrancing smile and the world went into slow motion again. She was glowing. For that matter, so was he. He was morally certain that anyone and everyone would be able to read what had happened between them earlier that afternoon. They were *so* in trouble if they couldn't get it under control before the Parker's laid eyes on them again. He sighed and smiled back at his lover and saw his thoughts echoed in her eyes. "~It feels like we're carrying a sign that that says 'Hello, we traded virginity's this afternoon', doesn't it?~"

Liz giggled, then her face turned solemn. "~I'm just glad that we're able to say that and mean it.~" Max opened his mouth to say something , but she forestalled him. "~Max, what we did today was special. It would have been special, even under the circumstances we believed to be true when we did it. But Sweetheart, I won't lie to you. I *always* wanted to be your first, as I wanted you to be mine. And the idea that Tess took that from me, from *us*, rankled. It hurt. But I was prepared to accept it because I love you more than anything, and because I blamed myself for some part of why it happened. Now I don't have to. And neither do you!~" She stepped into his arms and hugged him tight, savoring closeness, reveling in simple body contact. "~I think that what hurt me most, before we reconciled and moved past it, was that the evidence... even your memories.... told me something that I knew in my heart couldn't be true. Because of that I think I started to question my faith. In myself. In us. In love. Even in God. The paradox of what *was*, but couldn't be, was breaking my heart.~"

Max couldn't think of anything to say beyond making comforting noises, and sending her waves of love and reassurance through their connection. He was cuddling her when she surprised him by laughing. He held her out at arm's length, and the question must surely have shown on his face. For she answered it aloud without further prompting.

"Logic 101. When faced with a logical paradox, look for the false assumption. Find it and the paradox goes poof. I was so wrapped up in agonizing over the paradox itself that I forgot to check the assumptions it was based on. Now we know that the chief assumption was false. POOF! No more paradox."

Max grinned. "Ever the science girl!" He pulled her close for a warm lingering kiss. After they separated he chuckled. "I feel like a man with a secret."

Liz had been taking advantage of their close proximity get in a few caresses. Her hands her on his butt, so she pinched him. "You *are* a man with a secret!"

Max beamed at her fondly. "Yes, but I'm thinking of a different secret."

Liz looked perplexed. "Which secret would that be?"

Max smirked. "That science chicks are sexy, of course."

Liz blushed and punched him in the ribs... but not too hard. "I'll let that go if you promise to spend the night with me."

Max sighed. "I hadn't planned tonight any other way. Opportunities like this one will be far and few between, and to have it come on the very day that we first....er..."

"...made love," Liz finished for him, in a parody of what he had said to her earlier that day.

Max sighed. "Yes. Made love...for the first time. Anyway, the only sentiment I can think of that covers it is carpe diem."

Liz smiled and gave him another kiss. "I agree, though I think that carpe noctem might be closer to the mark. But before we get there, we have to get through this meeting, and the others are waiting."

Max, thus reminded, glanced at his watch. "We have a few minutes to spare yet, but if you insist...lets go."

They entered the museum through the back. They were on the stairs headed down to the office level when a burst of static came from the sound system, followed by...'Blue Suede Shoes'.

Max halted and sighed. He looked around, spotted the surveillance camera, and stuck his tongue out at it...which brought a faint echo of laughter from downstairs. "See what I put up with every day?"

Liz giggled. "Elvis has entered the building?"

Max grinned wickedly. "You'll pay for that later!" Just as he said it the music stopped, only to resume a few moments later..with a different tune. Liz's face flushed as Max began to laugh. It was 'The Lady in Red'. *Now* do you see what I put up with every day?? Looks like our friends have been chatting up the old folks!"

Liz glared at the camera. "The lady in red was Pam, not me!"

Max laughed harder. "When we get near a mirror, take a look. Your face is the right color."

Liz switched her glare to Max. "Laugh it up Elvis. Keep going and you'll sleep in your *own* bed tonight!" Then she spun and began stomping off down the stairs, apparently intent on doing serious bodily harm to a few friends.

Max followed at a sedate pace. Just before he arrived in the museum office the music ended abruptly, only to be reprised by gales of laughter. He entered the office to find a furious Liz standing, ramrod straight, her arms folded, staring down their still laughing friends. Her back was to him, so he simply walked up behind her, slid his arms around her, and gently nudged their connection open. He could feel it. She wasn't really angry, just embarrassed. She tried to resist his prodding, to maintain her pretense of anger. But his good humor, coupled with a few seriously indecent images of the two of them together, cracked her resolve. She softened and smiled, melting back against him like a cat leaning into a caress. He nuzzled her neck in a brief surge of lust, then realized something. Or rather the same realization swept through both of them at the same time. The laughter had stopped. Completely. They stepped out of their private world to find their friends studying them with knowing
eyes...and in the case of the adults...worried eyes.

"Oooops!" they both thought.

Max grimaced internally. "Er...hi?"

Maria studied her two friends, then her eyes locked with Liz's. "Is there something that you'd like to share with the rest of the family, Chica?"

There was no way out of this one. Liz flushed. "Quite a lot actually," she said. Then she turned and to the adults in the group. "But first we need to bring Amy, Jim, and Brody up to speed." She nodded to the senior members of the "I Know An Alien Club" apologetically and addressed them directly. "There's been a *lot* happening in the last couple of days that we haven't told you guys, simply because 'it' kept on happening. "It" is *still* happening, but that's no excuse to keep you in the dark anymore."

Michael gave a snort and muttered something. He noticed people looking at him, paused, then shrugged indifferently. "I said, that's an understatement!"

Jim laughed. "I have more experience with this secret than the newbies do." He regarded Brody and Amy with an amused eye. "And I can categorically state that, in this little family, that's usually the truth." He looked back at Liz and Max, and nodded. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

Liz knew that they weren't off the hook by any means. The look in Amy's and Jim's eyes told them that they wouldn't get out of here tonight without some version of "The Talk", either separately, or together. Or perhaps both. Liz winced internally, but took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "It all started last year when I got home from a trip to Madame Vivian's with Maria and Alex." Liz saw Amy's and Jim's eyebrows rise, even as Brody looked lost. For his benefit Liz explained. "She's a fortune teller. A tarot reader."

Brody looked intrigued. "What were you there for? What did she have to say to you?"

Liz flushed a delicate pink as Maria laughed. Amy joined her daughter in laughter and laid a hand on Brody's shoulder. "Oh Brody! Think like one of us...meaning girls...for a minute. What *would* we be asking a fortune teller about!? " She shot a heated look in Jim's direction, which he fielded with aplomb. "I know what I've asked her about!"

Brody flushed. "I get the message! Loud and clear! So, what did this tea leaf reader have to say about your love life?" He shot a glance at Max. "As if I didn't know?"

Liz's color deepened, but she couldn't back out. Max's arms were still around her, and they tightened in a reassuring way, encouraging her to go on. "She described my situation exactly. She said that Max was different, important...a leader. Then I told her that she was right...but that he had this whole other destiny that I couldn't be a part of."

Brody smiled. "I'm sensing a 'bigger but' in there."

Liz sobered. "Yes, you are. She said that he would choose love over destiny. That he would choose *me*!" Liz took a tremulous breath. "I can't describe how that made me feel. I didn't *want* to believe it. But I had too! I loved and wanted Max, more than anything in this world, or any other! But I'd kept him at arms length since we'd discovered his destiny. And it was killing me! I wanted a reason to give in to him. To be with him again!" She took a deep breath and sighed. "When I got home I was like a little girl playing dress up. I took a lace shawl and...and...I paraded around in front of my mirror, playing the bride!" She started to sniffle a bit. She looked up and saw that Amy understood the way her daughter always had. Some things transcend generations. She took a deep breath and went on. "That's what I was doing when everything started to go to hell....you see, that's when a visitor arrived."

Jim studied her cautiously. Whatever this was about, it was obviously highly traumatic. "Who was it?" he asked.

Liz gently rubbed the side of her head against Max's cheek as she leaned into him harder for comfort. "It was Max."


The Kingsgate Estate....7:45 PM

Britanicus had been in a foul mood since that morning. As a result everyone, even Joachim, had stayed out of his way. However, Musa's majordomo now had no choice other than to disturb his master. He paused outside Britanicus' office door, then took a deep breath and knocked on the door of his master's sanctum sanctorum. There was a long pause, then Britanicus spoke.

"Enter!"

To Joachim's experienced ear he sounded less angry than tired. He swung the door open and stepped through into the room, and assumed a rigid posture at a respectful distance from Musa's desk. Britanicus must have still been irritated, for he kept Joachim standing there for some minutes, until the frustrated majordomo cleared his throat.

Britanicus looked up sharply. He did not tolerate interruptions. "What is it?"

Joachim grimace. "I apologize Sire, but there's a call on the house line for you. A Mr. Malorte?" To Joachim's surprise Britanicus actually broke into a smile.

"Andres is on the phone?" He waved for Joachim to get out of the room and picked up the phone, punching the house line. "Hello? Andres?"

A voice with a thick Quebecois accent answered back. "Sire! Or should I call you Roland?"

Britanicus laughed aloud for the first time all day as he felt tension retreat. "Call me anything that you like old bear! How in Hades are you?"

Malorte chuckled back. "Passable, passable. But somewhat bored. Am I too late join the Cohort?"

Britanicus frowned. Andres had been his Second before Joachim. Long before. He'd found Andres as street urchin dodging Catholic orphanages in Montreal, back in 1702. Andres had grown up under Britanicus stern tutelage, and at the age of nineteen he'd died in a bar brawl, a full two years before Britanicus had planned on 'bringing him across' himself. He'd left Britanicus service nearly fifty years prior to Joachim's arrival. Britanicus wasn't sure how he could make this work. It wouldn't sit well with Joachim. And when Andres had departed his service he'd made it clear that he was tired of standing in Musa's shadow.

"What did you imagine yourself doing?" he asked.

Malorte spoke cautiously. "Well, I know that you have a capable second in the Boche Boy you picked up after the war. How about Third? Or possibly you could leave junior home and take *me* into the field as your Second? I have no ambitions towards anything permanent, I simply have a yen for the good old days. One operation and I'm gone."

Britanicus had paused to consider when Malorte added. "I come bearing gifts."

Musa cleared his throat. "Such as?"

"A couple of Quickenings ago, the no neck puke that I killed was cocky. So I took my time with him. I made him suffer before he died. In an effort to buy his life he offered me information, hell I even think he made things up in order to have something to tell me. But one thing that he told me rang true. It was a tale about an old Immortal that had tried to recruit him to join a fighting unit. His description fit you to a tee. And I just knew that you were getting ready to go campaigning again, and I got nostalgic. So I rounded up a few sheep on my own."

Britanicus developed a predatory smile. "How...thoughtful! How many swords do you offer?"

Malorte chuckled. "Including my own? Four. The usual scum of the Earth."

Britanicus nodded to himself. Four swords was a gift not to be spurned. "Come home then Andie. But do it quickly. We move out on Friday. I'll have Joachim arrange quarters for you.

Malorte was silent for a moment, then spoke. "Ave Sire. It's good to be in your service again, if only for a little while. We'll be there tomorrow morning!"

Britanicus smiled to himself. With four extra swords he could afford to make a two pronged assault. "Good-bye Andie, until tomorrow."

"Good-bye Sire," he responded, and hung up.

Britanicus slowly hung up the phone as his fertile imagination began to play with ways to modify already laid plans for attacking the various sites that he had information on, down in Washington. Had he delayed a moment longer he might have heard a muted click as another phone left the line.

Sitting alone in his small office in another part of the house, Joachim stared at the phone he'd just hung up, his recruiting poster face a mask of jealous fury. "This is *my* position, no one else's!" he thought. "What else do I know how to do anyway?" He turned away from the phone, swiveling his chair so he could stare out the window at the back garden. Normally a lovely scene, but now marred by the blackened area that marked Radu's demise. He sat gazing blankly at the view, thinking.

He was still there when darkness finally fell.