Roswell Fanatics

Thank you all for your congratulations. Again, you've got me turning all sorts of shades of red. I really appreciate it.

I've had a few requests for where to read the Homes series. All of my completed fics are located here.

And now, without further ado, the next part. Two posts due to length. Enjoy!


Em

******

Part 30

******

“Order up,” Michael barked, bringing his hand slamming down over the bell that rested on the counter.

Across the café, Liz smiled as she finished taking a couple’s order. “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she told them. Turning on her heel, she hurried toward the rear of the crowded restaurant where three Will Smiths and a Captain Kirk special awaited her attention.

“God, it’s a zoo today,” Maria muttered in passing.

Liz nodded, already balancing platters along the length of her arm. A zoo was an understatement. It seemed like every tourist from Santa Fe to the Texas border had descended on the Crashdown for lunch that afternoon. Even the outdoor tables were filled, though the sudden heat wave had sent the temperature skyrocketing to nearly a hundred degrees. Inside, the air conditioning did little to combat the change in the weather. Perspiration dripped down her back, making her uniform cling uncomfortably as she sailed back onto the floor with her order.

“Excuse me, Miss. I’m out of ketchup,” someone called.

“Just a minute,” she replied automatically. She swiftly set down the plates she was carrying, smiling at the family of four that filled the back booth. “You folks need anything else right now?” she asked sweetly.

“We’re good,” the mother informed her.

Barely breaking her stride, Liz delivered a fresh bottle of ketchup to the man who had requested one, then headed behind the counter to fill her last drink order. Her antennae bobbed in perfect rhythm to the pace she was keeping; fast, without a moment to stop and think. She wasn’t about to complain, however. This was exactly why she had pressed her father to put her back on the work schedule as of the end of June. The week leading up to the Fourth of July was always one of their busiest times. Between the holiday and the anniversary of the crash, tourists came to Roswell in droves, and she had not been willing to forfeit the corresponding increase in tips. As soon as Mrs. Evans had volunteered to start watching Zander a few days a week, Liz had jumped at the opportunity to return to work.

Maria slid behind the counter and grabbed a couple of coffee cups. “Max called in a lunch order,” she informed Liz. “Needs it delivered.”

Liz groaned. When Brody learned Max was searching for a second job, he had promptly given him a raise and increased his hours. As a result, Max rarely could escape the UFO Center for his breaks these days, often working straight through until closing. When she wasn’t working, she would take the baby and walk across the street to make sure Max was actually eating, but days she waitressed were another story.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. How the hell am I supposed to get away?”

“Just go,” Maria said. “You’re due for a break anyway. Michael, where are my Sigourney Weavers?”

“I only have two hands,” he shot back. “Liz, I’ve got Max’s order ready. Better get a move on.”

“Okay, okay,” she replied. “Just let me get these drinks to table five.”

After getting waylaid twice – once for additional napkins, and once because a small girl desperately needed another cherry for her soda – Liz finally managed to get back to the kitchen. She grabbed Max’s take-out order, tossed her antennae headband into her locker, and rushed out the back door.

A wall of heat assaulted her the moment she got outside. The pavement shimmered as she made her way down the alley and out onto the main street. It was difficult to breathe, the air hot and thick, molding to her skin in oppressive waves. By contrast, the UFO Center was pleasantly cool and dark, and she sighed as the doors swung closed behind her, blinking to adjust to the dim lighting.

Max emerged from the information booth as she headed down the stairs. He wove around a tour group that was starting out with one of the new summer employees and joined her as she reached the bottom step.

“Here,” she said, holding out his order. “I’ve got to get right back. The café is mobbed today.”

“Actually, you don’t,” he corrected. Taking the bag, he caught her by the wrist and gave her a quick tug. “You’re on your lunch break.”

“Max, I can’t just leave them shorthanded,” she insisted.

He shook his head and began leading her toward the store room. “Maria told me they can handle things. We have twenty minutes.”

“Fine,” she sighed, following him into the small room and waiting as he shut the door behind them.

“Here,” he said, clearing off a chair and dragging it up to the work table. Then he began unpacking his order. “You want turkey, ham, or half and half?”

Liz frowned as she dropped down in the empty seat. “Isn’t one of those for Brody?”

“Nope. All ours. Brody gave up including his order with mine when he realized it meant that you’d deliver it instead of Maria.”

“He isn’t still pining over her, is he?” She reached out and started helping him to divide up the sandwiches.

“He knows it won’t go anywhere, but he still likes it when she comes over,” he said with a shrug. “No Tabasco?” he asked, peering into the empty bag.

“Oh, here.” She fished into her apron and pulled out a small bottle. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” she teased.

Max smiled and took a seat across from her. He opened his sandwich and swiftly doused the filling with hot sauce, then passed the bottle back to Liz. She used considerably less, but his smile still broadened in amusement. Conversation ceased for a few moments as they ate.

“So, is there a reason you wanted to have lunch with me?” she asked eventually. He had been watching her thoughtfully, as if he was waiting for the right time to bring something up.

The truth was, it had been a while since they’d had any serious conversations. After they had decided against starting college early, they had pretty much back-burnered all talk regarding the future. Each day ran into the next, with them taking care of Zander, working on their relationships with their parents, and maintaining their own easy truce.

“You working on the Fourth?”

“Nope. No one to watch Zander,” she said. “Unless you want to, that is. My parents could probably use me.”

Max shook his head. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come to my dad’s office barbecue. He does it every year and he and mom are always trying to get Iz and me to go. I figured, given how much they’ve turned around the last few weeks, I should probably put in an appearance.”

“Who’s going to be there?” She hated how hesitant she sounded, but it couldn’t be helped. Although she saw Max’s mother almost every day, there had been no family gatherings since Isabel’s graduation. Liz knew that all four parents were trying to give them some space and let them run their own lives, but she was still suspicious of any event that brought them all into close contact. It was difficult to forget the last ambush, though it had been more than a month.

“My parents, the lawyers and their families,” he said. “Isabel will go if I do, and Michael generally shows for the free steak,” he said with a chuckle. “I figured if you were game, I’d just invite the whole gang.”

“Your dad won’t mind?”

“Are you kidding? He’ll love it. It’s nothing fancy, Liz. Dad does this every year. He cooks and everyone plays Frisbee or touch football until it’s time for the fireworks. If you think those’ll be too loud for Zander, we can leave before then.”

“Okay,” she agreed, relieved by the thought of everyone else being there. “It sounds like fun.”

“Good.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“Was that it? Not that this isn’t nice. You just seem a little… preoccupied.”

He shook his head as he finished chewing. “That was pretty much it.”

Liz frowned. “Except for?” she prompted.

“Brody’s been acting funny the last day or two. I think Larek’s getting ready to pay another visit.”

“Oh.” She felt her lunch start to reform in her stomach. “What do you think he’ll tell you?”

Max sighed. “I don’t know. If it were bad news, I doubt he’d wait to contact me, so it’s probably just an update on Nicholas’s whereabouts.”

“Poor Brody. I wish there was some other way for Larek to talk to you,” Liz said. She hated knowing what Max’s boss went through every time Larek used him as a host. He tended to come into the Crashdown immediately following his “abductions,” looking frazzled and unhappy.

“I know, but there’s not.”

“And nothing else is bothering you?” Liz pressed. He seemed suddenly distracted, and she almost regretted having broached the subject. But skirting the topic wasn’t getting them anywhere, either. It wasn’t that Max was denying his fears. His continued nightmares regarding Nicholas were hardly a secret. Twice in the past month, she’d woken to find Max slipping into her room in the dead of night to see for himself that she and Zander were safe. Both times he had been completely shaken – just as he had been that first night – and had ended up staying until morning. They simply didn’t discuss the situation, because there was nothing new to say.

“It’s probably nothing. I just—with the crash anniversary coming up, I want to make sure you and Zander aren’t left alone this week,” he admitted. “It’s not that I expect something to happen, exactly, but—”

“That’s usually when something does,” she finished softly.

“Yeah. I just wouldn’t put it past Nicholas to pick now to try something. He strikes me as the type to have a sick sense of humor.”

Liz shuddered, remembering the day all of the humans had vanished from town. Sick sense of humor was putting it mildly.

“Hey, don’t look like that,” Max said gently. “It’s going to be fine. I’m probably just worrying for nothing, but better that than being unprepared.”

“I know. He’s just so creepy. Nicholas. There’s something about all of that evil housed in a child’s body. It’s just wrong, Max. I’d say Kivar is the one with the sick sense of humor.”

“I won’t argue with you on that one.” He glanced at his watch. “Eat up, or Maria’s going to let me have it.”

Checking his wrist, Liz shook her head and began packing up the rest of her lunch. “I’ll finish eating when the crowd thins out. I really have to get back, Max.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you later?”

“I should be home from getting Zander by the time you get off work,” she agreed. Shoving her leftovers into the bag, she headed for the door.

***

“What’s the point of Max dragging you into that damn store room, if he’s not even going to kiss you?” Maria fumed. She leaned against the doorway, making no move to change out of her uniform though their shift was over.

“Maria!” Liz shoved her apron and antenna into her locker and fished out her keys. “What the hell is your problem?”

“I know, I know. It’s none of my business, you don’t want to push him, yada, yada, yada,” Maria recited. “But for crying out loud, Liz. It’s been months and he hasn’t laid a finger on you. Doesn’t he know a girl has needs?”

“Last time I checked, you have a boyfriend. Worry about his needs.”

“Amen,” Michael called out from the kitchen.

“No comments from the peanut gallery,” Maria shouted back.

The door swung open and Michael appeared. “Then don’t talk so loud,” he replied. “And leave Liz alone, while you’re at it.”

“What do you know? If you’d talk to Max, like I asked you to—”

“It’s none of my business,” Michael bit out. “Anymore than it’s yours.”

Maria simply turned her back to him. “Lizzie, I’m just saying, if I go so far as to cover your tables at Max’s request, the least I can expect from the boy is a little progress.”

Liz rolled her eyes and slammed her locker shut. “I am not listening to this again. I have to pick up Zander.”

“God, you’re like some old married couple,” Maria continued. “Working around the clock, taking care of your child, no time for nookie,” she clucked.

“Maria!”

“What? I’m not saying he should have had at you on the floor of the store room, but a little cuddling would not be out of line. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Liz said. “I’m out of here. Good night.”

***

Later that evening, Liz sat rocking Zander to sleep, Maria’s words playing out in her mind. As if by unspoken agreement, neither Liz nor Max had told anyone about their brief discussion of marriage. It would have set up too many expectations, with everyone watching them to see when they would finally give in and tie the knot. Assuming, of course, they weren’t already waiting for just that. The idea made her uncomfortable, thinking they were fodder for their friends’ gossip. She wasn’t sure how this was different from their previous speculations about her pregnancy, but it was.

The sad thing was that, in some ways, Maria was right. It did feel as if she and Max had skipped over the entire romance of dating and marriage and gone straight to the hardships. For all intents and purposes, they were like a married couple that had separated; they saw each other frequently and made decisions together about Zander, but there was very little in their relationship that had to do with just the two of them. None of their interactions were at all personal, unless you counted Max worrying about their safety or her concern for his perpetual lack of sleep.

When Max arrived, Liz didn’t mention Maria’s theory or her own subsequent musings. Instead they sat and discussed Zander, going over the progress chart Liz had sketched out from one of her baby books. They were keeping a strict eye on his development, concerned that he might suddenly excel in a way that would reveal him as different.

“So far he seems to be on track,” Max said.

“Barely,” Liz replied. “He’s acquiring skills just late enough not to draw attention, but technically he’s at the start of the curve for everything he’s learned. Pretty soon it’s going to be obvious that he’s developing remarkably fast. Most babies do one or two things early, but not all of them.”

“It’s not like we can slow his progress, Liz.”

She groaned and flopped back on the bed, turning to stare at her son. He was sleeping soundly in the basket her mother had made up for him. Already he could roll over with startling speed, so she no longer let him sleep on the bed unless she was lying there with him. “He’s started holding his head up by himself,” she said. “Next he’ll be sitting up.”

Max ran his finger over the chart. “Yeah, well. He’ll do what he does.”

“Every time I pick him up from your house, I expect your mother to inform me he’s a genius.”

“You realize she’ll tell you that anyway,” he teased, lying back beside her. “She’s been saying that about me and Isabel since they adopted us. Relax. It’ll be fine.”

Rolling over to look at him, Liz smiled slightly. “And I should stop looking for things to worry about. Is that it?”

He shrugged. “Not like we don’t have a long enough list.”

“You’re right. I’m not searching out trouble, I swear. I just don’t want to be taken off guard.”

“Eventually, we will be,” Max said, gazing up at the ceiling. “Better by my mother than by Nicholas.”

***

Continued in next post

Continued from previous post

*****

The Fourth of July dawned sunny and clear, the extreme heat of the previous week having finally dissipated. Liz dressed Zander in one of the collection of red-white-and-blue rompers that he had received as gifts over the past few days, glad for once that she needed to change him so often; he was guaranteed to wear all of his new outfits as the day progressed and avoid insulting either grandmother, Isabel, or Maria. For herself, she chose denim shorts and a red tank, then pulled her hair into a ponytail and shoved her feet into a pair of white sneakers. The past few months had taught her nothing if not to keep life simple.

By the time Max came by to pick them up, Liz had Zander’s baby bag packed and ready.

“Don’t you look patriotic,” Max observed, swinging Zander into his arms. “You, too,” he added, smiling at Liz.

“Shouldn’t you have a red belt or something?” she commented, taking note of his jeans and white shirt.

“Let you in on a little secret,” he whispered. “I’m not actually a United States citizen. More of an illegal alien.”

Liz burst out laughing. “All the more reason to dress like the natives.”

“I don’t do red,” he said, hoisting Zander’s bag over one shoulder. “You’ll have to be enough for both of us. Shall we?”

“You’re in a good mood,” she observed as they drove over to the park.

“Larek showed up last night just after closing. Looks like things are still status quo.”

“Nicholas is in New York?” she asked hopefully.

“According to Larek’s source, he’s lying low for now. I guess an attack this week would have been too obvious for Kivar.”

“But still nothing about his reaction to Tess’s disappearance.”

“We don’t know how often she was checking in with him. Maybe she only had to report if something new was going on.”

“Maybe,” Liz agreed, though she could tell Max was doubtful. “More likely that Nicholas wasn’t reporting back to Kivar about his deal with Tess.”

“Yeah. Much more likely. But right now, all I care about is Nicholas’s location. The farther away he is, the better.”

They left the car at the far end of the park, then hiked over to the picnic area where Max’s parents were setting up the barbecue. The picnic tables sported cheerful red cloths, and one was already laden with covered dishes. Mr. Evans had donned his chef’s hat and was busy trying to light the charcoal. Max shook his head as they approached.

“He can never get the grill going,” he whispered to Liz. “Most years, Iz or I have to give it a jump start.”

“What about the times you didn’t come?”

“It’s a miracle no one got food poisoning.”

“Max!”

“I’m kidding. But they did eat pretty late.”

“Oh good, you’re here,” Mrs. Evans said. “Liz dear, you look so cute in that get up. God, I can’t believe you had a baby two months ago. Your waist is positively tiny.”

Liz forced a smile and shifted Zander off her shoulder. She knew Max’s mother didn’t mean anything by her comment, but she still hated any reminder of how far from normal her pregnancy really was. “Thanks, Mrs. Evans,” she said.

“Max, honey, why don’t you set up your things under that tree so you can put Zander out of the sun,” his mother continued. “Oh, there’s my grandson. How’s my sweetie today?” she cooed, holding out her arms.

“He’s good,” Liz said, passing her the baby.

“Aaah,” Zander pronounced, waving one hand in the air.

“You don’t say?” Mrs. Evans said, grinning down at him.

“You realize you’ll never get him back, now,” Max murmured to Liz as they spread a blanket on a grassy spot in the shade. “As soon as Isabel and Maria get here, they’re going to be passing him around for the rest of the afternoon.”

“I have no problem with that as long as he’s happy,” she sighed, dropping down onto the spread. “Just don’t let Michael or Kyle use him for the football, and everything will be fine.”

“Michael knows better. Can’t speak for Valenti, though,” Max said. He started to sit beside her, but was halted by a hand on his shoulder.

“Son, this grill is giving me all sorts of trouble,” his father said. “Hi, Liz.”

“Hi, Mr. Evans.”

“Max, you mind giving it a look?”

Shooting Liz a smile, Max shook his head. “No problem, Dad.”

A few minutes later there were small flames dancing over the charcoal. Isabel, Michael, and Maria arrived, followed by Kyle. The other members of Mr. Evans’s firm also came, and introductions were made all around.

“Max, it’s going to be a while before this fire is hot enough to cook, if you boys want to play a quick game.”

“Boys?” Isabel demanded. “Dad, how sexist can you be?”

“Now he’s done it,” Michael muttered.

“Relax, Iz,” Max said. “You know he’s just trying to get you riled up.”

“Mission accomplished,” Maria said with a laugh.

“Okay, so who’s playing then?” Kyle asked, already scoping out the group.

Liz chuckled. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”

“Me too,” Maria agreed, cuddling Zander on her lap. She had claimed him from Max’s mother immediately upon arriving.

“I’m in,” volunteered Jesse Ramirez, the newest attorney in the group.

“Dad?” Max asked.

“I’ve got to watch the grill.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Evans said. “You go on, Philip. I’ll watch the charcoal and call you when it’s time to cook.”

“Well, then,” he said with a grin, taking off his hat and apron.

Liz and Maria settled back with the baby and watched, amused, as they divided up into teams. In the end, Max, Isabel, and their father were against Kyle, Jesse, and Michael, with everyone else looking on.

“This should be good,” Maria said.

“It’s just touch football,” Liz said. “How much damage can they do?”

“Ha. You’ve clearly never watched Max and Michael play basketball.”

The game turned rough almost immediately, taking Jesse by surprise. He managed to hold his own against the Evans family, however. Michael and Kyle were apparently expecting the down-and-dirty approach, and played accordingly. By the time Max’s mother called for her husband to take over his culinary duties, all the players were hot and sweaty.

“Someone has to come in for Dad,” Isabel called. “Liz, come play.”

“I don’t think so,” she replied, shaking her head.

“Aw, come on,” Kyle coaxed. “We’re not ready to stop and you know DeLuca there won’t risk breaking a nail.”

“Hey, I resent that,” Maria sputtered. “I happen to be in the middle of something much more important. I’m serving as a pillow,” she said, indicating the now-sleeping baby in her arms.

“All right, I’ll play,” Liz agreed, climbing reluctantly to her feet. “But we have to redo the teams. I’m all for girl power, but it’s not equal to have two of us on one side and none on the other.”

“That’s fair,” Isabel said. “Jesse, you play with us and Liz can sub in for you.”

Kyle and Michael pulled Liz into a huddle. “Okay,” Kyle said. “Liz, you break wide to the left. I’ll hand off to Michael and then he’ll throw the ball to you.”

“Wait, why me?” she hissed.

“You’re small and fast. You’ll get past them, no problem,” Kyle said.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Plus Isabel won’t expect us to actually let you play,” he added.

“See, sometimes it pays to have a rep as a male chauvinist,” Kyle agreed.

Liz groaned. “Fine. But if I get trampled you’ll be sorry.”

They took their positions and Kyle counted down. Liz soon discovered that, as luck would have it, breaking to the left sent her running straight toward Max. He looked vaguely surprised when she went zipping past him, so much so that he failed to react when the ball sailed over his head and straight to Liz. She caught it neatly and headed for their end zone. Kyle and Michael screamed at her to run, while Isabel yelled at Max to move. Footsteps pounded behind her, the packed earth vibrated beneath her, but she kept her eye on the trees marking the goal line. She was nearly there when a strong arm wrapped around her waist and she went tumbling to the ground.

Panting, she lay there with the ball hugged to her chest, half on top of Max. He had rolled to keep her from coming down too hard, cushioning her fall and ending up trapped beneath her.

“You okay?” he asked.

Liz shook her head in disbelief. “Whatever happened to touch football?” she demanded.

Max let head fall back and started to laugh. “I’m touching you, aren’t I?” he managed to get out, his chest rumbling with amusement.

It was such a happy, heart-felt sound, that every bit of Liz’s annoyance faded. “Yeah,” she agreed, adding her laughter to his.

A shadow fell over them. “Unhand our teammate, Evans,” Kyle said.

“Or at least let us have the ball,” Michael amended.

Liz handed Michael the football, then began to ease herself off of Max. His hands wrapped around her hips and he lifted her up before rolling easily to his feet. “You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked again, reaching out to pick some grass out of her hair.

“Fine,” she assured him, her lips still twitching. “Um, you’ve got some serious stains on the back of your shirt,” she said, trying to brush him off.

He shrugged. “Nothing that won’t come out,” he said.

“I think maybe we should call it even and cut our losses,” Isabel declared with a smirk. Turning, she walked off their playing field. “Hey, Maria, hand over my nephew,” she demanded.

Max’s mother handed out packaged hand cloths and everyone cleaned up. Liz helped uncover the platters of potato salad, ambrosia, cold string beans, and tomatoes, while Maria stacked plastic plates and utensils at one end of the table.

“Who wants their steak medium rare?” called out Mr. Evans.

Dinner was a casual affair. Liz, Max, and Isabel sat and ate with Zander asleep at their feet. Michael and Maria wandered off together, while Kyle and Jesse bonded over old sports injuries. The Evanses mingled with their guests, checking on people’s drinks and urging them to take seconds, but even they spent most of the meal sitting at a picnic table with Mr. Evans’s partner and his wife.

As it grew dark, citronella torches and candles started to come to life all over the park, keeping both the bugs and the night at bay. Zander woke and Liz gave him a bottle. From a distance, the town’s marching band could be heard, approaching the park where they would give a short concert in the bandstand prior to the fireworks. People who had remained home for dinner started filling the bleachers on one end of the park or setting up blankets wherever there was room.

“We should probably get going,” Max said softly. “You still want to watch the fireworks from your balcony?”

“Yeah,” Liz said. “It’s going to be much too noisy here for Zander, between the band and the explosions from the fireworks.” Already he was jumping at the small pops from firecrackers being set off around the park.

Max packed up their things, and they said their goodbyes. They reached the car as the band rounded the corner to the park, playing a lively march. Zander burrowed into Liz’s shoulder, clearly distressed by the volume of the music.

“Okay, little one,” she murmured, strapping him into his car seat. “We’re almost out of here.”

It only took a few minutes for them to get back to the Crashdown. Liz went in through the café to tell her parents she was home, while Max took the baby up the back way. By the time she reached her room, he had Zander changed into clean blue pajamas and was sitting on the edge of the bed, rocking him.

“He’s going to be asleep in about two minutes,” Max pronounced softly.

“It’s all that fresh air and excitement. Lots of people. He’s not used to it.”

“He was good, though. I thought maybe he’d cry, but no.”

“That’s my social butterfly,” she cooed, leaning down to press a kiss to his soft, sweet-smelling forehead. She glanced up at Max. “Want me to take him?”

“Nah. No reason to disturb him,” Max replied, staring down into the baby’s drooping eyes. A moment later they drifted shut entirely. “See?” he whispered. “Out cold.” He carried him gingerly over to his cradle and set him down.

Liz grabbed the baby monitor and an extra blanket, and the two of them climbed out onto the balcony, shutting the window behind them.

“The floor’s not exactly comfortable,” Max assessed. “You want to take the recliner?” he asked, indicating her old lawn chair.

Liz glanced at him shyly, then shrugged. “There’s room for both of us,” she said. “If you want.”

Max looked at the chair, then at her, his dark eyes unreadable. “All right,” he agreed.

Liz stared at him for a second, not really believing her ears. “Really?”

Instead of answering her, he sat down on one side of the chair, leaving space for her next to him. “Come on,” he said. “The fireworks are going to start any minute.”

Nodding dumbly, Liz lowered herself onto the chair. Max hesitated for a second, then slipped his arm around her shoulders and cradled her against his side. It was no different than the way they slept together on the nights he appeared in her window, shaking from his dreams, except that it was. This time, Max wasn’t running from nightmares or looking for comfort. Every movement was deliberate, a stretching of the boundaries they had set in their relationship.

“Relax,” he whispered, and Liz suddenly realized just how tense she was. Every inch of her body was rock-hard, poised for flight. A small explosion like a shot ringing out had her nearly jumping out of her skin. Only Max’s arm kept her from falling off the chair.

“They’re starting,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Just watch.” With his free hand he pointed upward, and Liz knew the noise must have been them launching the first of the fireworks over on the town green.

The sound repeated, and this time it was followed by a burst of glorious color filling the sky. Red and white sparklers fanned out in a spiral and Liz let out a little sigh of pleasure. “I love fireworks,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” Max agreed quietly. “Me, too.”

*****

TBC

Thanks again for all the congratulations. You guys are the best.

Here's the new part, in two posts due to length. It looks like it's going to stradle two pages on the board, so make sure you read both halves.


Em

***

Part 31

***

“What happened to you? You smell like a sewer,” Liz said, wrinkling her nose as Kyle slipped onto a stool at the counter. His mechanic’s jumpsuit was stained with oil and soot seemed to cling to his hair.

“Don’t ask,” he muttered. “Let’s just say I got into a disagreement with Mrs. Ellis’s precious Cadillac.”

“Yeah, well, I’d say the Caddy won.” She dropped a menu down in front of him. “Normally I’d steer you to the greasy section, but you look like you’ve had your fair share. Can I recommend a salad?”

“Hardy har har,” he grouched. “You’re a regular comedian, Parker. Don’t quit your day job.”

Liz sighed. “Not much chance of that.”

“I’ll take a Galaxy Dog, hold the Rocket chili. To go, please. There’s a transmission problem with my name on it back at the garage.”

“Sure,” she said, scribbling down his order. “Drink?”

He shrugged. “Coke.”

Liz nodded. “Just be a sec.”

The bells over the door rang out as she took her ticket back to the kitchen. When she returned, she was surprised to find Max on a stool next to Kyle.

“Hey,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Max pouted, feigning a hurt look. “What? A guy can’t drop by for an Alien Blast on a hot afternoon?”

Liz felt the color rise to her cheeks as Kyle let out a snort. “Um, of course. I just meant that Brody’s had you chained up all summer. When was the last time you left the building for your break?”

“True,” he agreed. “And actually, I can’t really stay long now. I just ran over for a few minutes.”

“So you need that to go?” she smirked, pulling her order pad from her apron.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile sheepish.

“You know, Evans, there’s this thing called a phone,” Kyle said. “Great invention. Let’s you call in your orders.”

“Really, Kyle?” Liz asked. “And didn’t you just come in and order take out?”

“Last time I noticed, you guys didn’t deliver anywhere past this block,” he replied, eyebrows arched. “Actually, the UFO Center seems to be the only stop on your route.”

“Well, I didn’t just want the milk shake,” Max said. “Liz, can we talk a second?”

“Oh. Er, sure,” she replied, glancing around to check the coverage on the floor. “In the back all right?”

Max nodded.

“Go ahead,” Kyle said. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just wait here for Guerin to burn my hotdog. Nothing to worry about.”

Liz rolled her eyes and led the way into the break room, Max on her heels. “What’s up?” she asked.

“What are you doing on Saturday?”

“Saturday?” She shrugged. “Same things I do everyday, Max. Take care of Zander, run the laundry, catch a nap if I’m really lucky.” She raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Why?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to do something,” he said casually, leaning against the bank of lockers. His gaze shifted nervously.

“Do something?” she echoed. “Like what? Take Zander to the park? It’s been so hot, Max—”

“No,” he interrupted. “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of dinner,” he said. “Isabel told me she’d baby-sit for us.”

“Dinner. You mean like a date?” she asked quietly.

Max’s eyes darted up to meet hers. “Yeah. Exactly like a date. What do you think?” His voice was so soft, like a gentle whisper drifting through the air.

“I think that would be nice,” she told him, feeling unaccountably shy.

“Okay then,” he said, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “Um, seven okay?”

Liz nodded. “Fine.”

“I’d better get back to work,” he said.

“Me, too,” she agreed. “Let me just make your shake.”

Max shook his head. “That’s okay.” His smile broadened, and the sudden twinkle in his eye made him look boyish. “I didn’t really want one. Talk to you later.”

Before Liz could react, he was gone, leaving the door swinging behind him. Her heart swelled and, when she went back out into the café, she knew she was grinning.

“What’s with you?” Kyle asked, eyeing her suspiciously. “Liz?”

“Nothing,” she replied, managing to take it down a notch but incapable of wiping the smile from her face completely. “Your hotdog should be about done. Let me get your Coke.”

Kyle just shook his head.

***

“Aaah. Ah, ah, ah.” Each of Zander’s small exclamations was punctuated by the rhythmic shake of his rattle.

Liz smiled over at the bed where her son sat propped up in a sea of pillows. “Was that a vote for the red?” she asked. Turning back to the mirror, she held the dress in question up in front of her and examined her reflection, then switched to the dress in her other hand. “You don’t think the sunflower print is more cheerful?”

“Aaah,” came the gurgled reply.

Liz laughed. “Red it is.” She returned the rejected dress to the closet, then took the other one into the bathroom. Within seconds she had pulled it over her head and was tugging the full skirt into place. The dress had capped sleeves and a fitted bodice, with tiny white buttons running all the way down the front. She hesitated a second, then undid the top two buttons, revealing a bit of cleavage – one of the more positive side effects of breastfeeding. Tilting her head, she studied the effect and gave a little shrug. Couldn’t hurt.

“Hello?” Isabel called from the hallway. “Babysitter, reporting for duty.”

Liz stuck her head back into the room. “Come on in!”

The door cracked open and Isabel appeared. Her eyes widened as Liz emerged from the bathroom.

“What?” Liz asked worriedly. “You think it’s too much?”

Isabel smiled and shook her head. “I’d say it’s just about right.” Turning to the bed, she reached out and hefted Zander into her arms. “Right, Mister? Isn’t Mommy a knockout?”

“Aaahh,” the baby sang out happily, shaking his rattle.

Liz laughed. “He’s biased.”

“No doubt,” Isabel agreed, “but then so is Max. He said to tell you he’ll head over as soon as I get home with Zander. Is that enough time?”

“Fine. I’m basically ready, anyway.” Liz turned and checked herself in the mirror again. “Maybe I should put my hair up,” she mused aloud. “It’s so hot out.”

“Leave it down,” Isabel told her.

Liz caught the mischievous look on the other girl’s face and smirked in acknowledgement. Max’s hair fetish was hardly a secret. “You’re right. I just wish it wasn’t like ninety degrees out,” she sighed.

“That’s what air conditioning is for.” Isabel glanced around the room. “What else do I need?”

“Just the diaper bag,” she said, passing it to her. “I think you’ve got at least one of everything over there anyway, since your mom’s been watching him.”

“All right then,” Isabel said, slipping the strap over her shoulder. “I guess we’ll get going. Have a good time, Liz.”

“Thanks, Isabel.” She reached out and gave Zander’s hand a little squeeze. “You be a good boy, okay? No giving Aunt Isabel a hard time,” she said. Leaning in, she kissed his cheek.

“We’ll be fine, won’t we?” Isabel said, nuzzling his other cheek with her nose. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Liz said, giving a little wave. Zander responded be shaking his rattle again, making her laugh.

Once they were gone, she stood in front of the mirror and ran her brush through her hair. She had been telling the truth when she told Isabel she was basically ready. It was too hot for much makeup, so all she wore was a little mascara and some lip gloss. She debated whether to put on a necklace, but the idea of something lying on her skin was somehow suffocating given the heat. Max would just have to settle for simplicity.

The knock at her bedroom door made her tense. Isabel had only been gone a few minutes, so there was no way it could be Max. Which left two very obvious choices, and Liz wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with either of them. Sighing, she called out for whomever it was to come in.

“Hi, honey. How’s it coming?” her mother asked, poking her head into the room. “Need any help?”

“I’m fine, Mom, thanks.” She ran the brush once more through her hair, then set in on the dresser. “See? All ready.”

“You look beautiful, Liz.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, knowing it had nothing to do with the weather. “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered. “Not too bad, all things considered, huh?”

Her mother shook her head. “I’d say you look considerably better than ‘not bad,’” she assessed. “So, where is Max taking you?”

Liz shrugged and busied herself checking the contents of her purse. “He didn’t say. Dinner somewhere.” Keys, emergency cash, cell phone. She tucked her lip gloss into the bag, plus a small tin of mints. Was she forgetting anything?

“Honey, I know your dad and I have given you a hard time about Max—”

“Mom, please don’t start,” she sighed, looking up. “It’s just a date, okay?”

“I know. What I was going to say is, you’ve both shown a lot of restraint the past few months, even though I suspect it was difficult for you. And that we appreciate that you’ve been taking things slow. I’m not sure how much of that was in response to our suggestions earlier in the summer.” She smiled ruefully. “I suspect it was more despite them, actually. But you’ve both been very responsible and thoughtful of everyone’s feelings, and I just want to say that we’re proud of you.”

Liz felt tears creep into her eyes and blinked to keep them back. Thank God for waterproof mascara, she thought.

“Have a nice time tonight, honey. You’ve more than earned it.” Her mother gave her a quick little hug. “I’ll send Max up as soon as he gets here, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. And Mom? Thanks. For everything.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

***

“So, where are we going?” Liz asked. She was seated next to Max in the Jeep, but he had yet to pull out of his parking space in front of the café.

“Well, that’s partly up to you,” he said.

“How?”

“I thought I’d give you a choice. We could grab a quick bite at the Pizza Pan and catch the next showing of The Mummy Returns. Or, if you’d rather, we could have a leisurely dinner over at Senor Chow’s. Maybe shoot a little pool.” Hands on the wheel, he slanted her a look. “What do you think?”

Liz reflected for a moment on the options he had given her. One allowed them to spend a few quiet hours together without the pressure of having to keep up the conversation if they’d rather not talk. The other was a recreation of their first official date. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was some deeper question lurking behind the choices, but it didn’t matter. For her, the answer was clear.

“I could definitely go for some Chinese,” she replied.

“Senor Chow’s it is, then,” he pronounced, throwing the Jeep into gear.

The restaurant was crowded, but they were seated immediately, suggesting to Liz that, regardless of how Max suspected she would choose, he had planned ahead with reservations. Their table was in a quiet corner, not so isolated that the wait staff would ignore them, but far enough from the other diners that their conversation would remain private. They spent a few minutes discussing the menu and placing their orders, but once the waitress brought a pot of tea and glasses of ice water, they were left alone.

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Liz murmured, looking around.

“Not since we doubled with Michael and Maria,” Max agreed.

Liz laughed quietly, then stopped. “Well, actually…”

“What?”

“There was that night Topolsky met me here,” she said in a hushed voice.

“That doesn’t count.”

“No, you’re right. It doesn’t.” She wished she hadn’t remembered it, though.

“So, your mother was inexplicably nice when I came to get you,” Max said. “What’s up with that?”

“Beats me. She came in while I was getting ready and said how she proud she and Dad are of us. You know, for taking things slow.” She fiddled absently with her chopsticks, not quite prepared to look him in the eye. “I think she was half expecting us to elope at some point.”

Max shrugged. “It’s not like we never discussed it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure that was quite the same as what they were imagining,” Liz pointed out.

“Hmm. I guess not.” He let out a soft sigh, then reached across the table to still her restless fingers. “Liz, are you okay with this?”

She glanced up, startled. “With what?”

“Our doing this,” he said. “I…We never really talked about it. I just kind of assumed you’d be willing to start over when I was ready. You agreed to give me time to come to terms with everything, but what about what you need? You never said and I should have asked.”

“You asked me out, Max. I could have said no.”

“I guess you could have,” he agreed. “I just… We have to be honest with each other. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that. Not just when it’s convenient or when it won’t hurt the other person, but with everything. I don’t want to take things for granted.”

Liz focused on his hand where it rested over hers. “I’m here because I want to be,” she said softly. She could feel him relax, just through that single point of contact. “And because I feel the need to whip your ass at pool again,” she added, glancing up with a smile.

“Oh, you think so, do you? Maybe I’ve been practicing?” he teased.

“Yeah, right,” she half-snorted, giggling at her own reaction.

“You’re just a bit too self-confident,” he decided. “I’m definitely going to have to take you down.”

“Ha. No cheating, Max Evans,” she declared, leaning in so she wouldn’t be overheard. “If I see one glowing pool ball you’ll be sorry.”

“Really?” he asked, looking interested. “How sorry?”

“Very,” she replied.

“I sense a bet coming on.”

“Maybe,” she replied. “But first I need food.” Their waitress was approaching with a large tray and Liz felt her stomach rumble in anticipation. Suddenly, she was starving.

They ate their way through plates of fried rice, dumplings, spicy pork, and sautéed chicken with mixed vegetables. Everything got washed down with great quantities of tea until Liz joked they would slosh all the way home. When the platters were picked clean, their waitress returned with orange slices and fortune cookies, and suddenly their moods seemed to grow more somber.

“No reason to worry about these,” Max decided, handing her the small plate and waiting for her to choose a cookie. “As I recall, we have a tendency to rewrite our fortunes anyway.”

Something about the look in his eyes made Liz tremble. Forcing a smile, she plucked a cookie from the plate and began tearing off the wrapper. Max took the remaining cookie and did the same.

“Well?” he asked after a moment.

“Nothing profound,” she said. “Apparently there’s a voyage in my future. You?”

He shrugged and tossed the slip of paper onto the table. “I don’t suppose I could use the dancing one again?”

Liz smiled. “How about that game of pool?”

“Okay. We still betting?”

She shrugged. “Why don’t we make it interesting and leave the terms open? Winner picks their spoils.”

Max’s eyes narrowed. “That could get dangerous.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared. Didn’t you say something about taking me down?” she asked archly.

“I did, didn’t I?” he sighed. “All right. If I’m a gentleman and let you break, is there any chance I’ll get a turn?”

“Sure,” she said, picking her cue. “A slim one, but definitely a chance.”

Max groaned and began to set up the balls. “You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“You’ll survive.” Leaning over the table, she took careful aim and sent the balls flying. “I’m stripes,” she declared, then moved on to set up her next shot.

She sank the first two balls easily enough, but after that things got a little tricky. Not only were there no clear shots, but she could feel Max’s eyes on her as she played. He kept standing opposite her, perfectly still, doing nothing outwardly to distract her, but his gaze was a tangible thing as she leaned over the table in search of the best angle. He seemed completely unconcerned with the game itself, his focus entirely on her. It wasn’t until she missed her next shot and stood up abruptly that she realized where his eyes were actually resting. A third button on her dress had worked its way open, causing her breasts to tip forward heavily each time she leaned down, and giving Max a tantalizing view. Jerking her gaze to meet his, she found his eyes dark with a mix of desire and amusement. A wave of heat rushed over her face and she wondered if her cheeks now matched her dress.

“My turn,” he said, tearing his gaze from hers. He bent over the table, assessing the various possibilities and mumbling to himself. Liz watched the muscles in his arms flex as he raised his cue and took aim. It was a moment before she realized he had actually sunk the ball.

“You have been practicing,” she declared, startled.

“I’ve taken Physics since we played last,” he corrected. “It has to come in handy for something, doesn’t it?” Leaning over, he lined up his next shot. This one, however, he missed. “Damn.”

Liz laughed. “Okay, show off. Move over.”

“Who’s the show off?” he asked.

Shaking her head, Liz walked around the table, examining the set up from all angles. She was so lost in concentration that she was surprised when Max loomed up in front of her, her purse in his hand.

“Your phone,” he told, a muffled ring backing up his statement.

Liz frowned and took her bag, pulling the phone out. “It’s my mother,” she said, glancing at the caller I.D. “Mom? Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine, honey,” her mother replied. “I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but Mr. Davis was just in the café. Max’s boss?”

“Brody?” she asked, glancing up and meeting Max’s questioning gaze. “What did he want?”

“Well, he wanted Max, actually. I told him you two were out to dinner somewhere, but he was adamant that I try to get a hold of you. He was acting quite odd.”

“Did he say why he needed Max?”

“No. That was the strangest part. Wouldn’t tell me anything, other than it was important he find Max tonight.”

“Where is he?” Max mouthed.

“Mom, is he still there?” Liz asked.

“No. I told him I’d call you, but he said he was going to try to find you himself,” she said, sounding distinctly annoyed. “Liz, is Max all right working for that man? He doesn’t strike me as particularly stable.”

“I know he’s a little odd, Mom, but he’s perfectly fine.”

“Larek?” Max whispered.

Liz nodded. “I think so,” she mouthed back. She watched as Max fished his wallet out of his pocket and headed back to their table to pay. “Mom, if Brody comes back, have him call my cell, okay? Meanwhile we’ll try to track him down. I’m sure he just misplaced his keys or something.”

“All right, honey. I’m sorry you have to deal with this tonight. You’d think the man could wait until morning.”

“Mom, it’s fine,” Liz said. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay. Try to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Thanks. Bye, Mom.” She snapped her phone shut and shoved it back into her bag. She hurried to meet Max, who was already waiting by the door. “What do you think this means?” she asked, as he took her elbow and steered her toward the Jeep.

“I don’t know,” he said, sounding grim. “I don’t like it, though. There hasn’t been any sign of Larek prepping Brody for a visit.”

“You think something’s happened,” she stated, her heart starting to flutter. “Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated. He helped her into the Jeep, then went around and climbed in next to her. He pulled his phone from the glove box and flipped it open. “No messages,” he said as he hit speed dial.

“Who are you calling?”

“Isabel.” He waited a moment, then Liz saw the look of relief pass over his features a split second before he began to speak. “Iz. Everything okay there?” He paused, listening. “Okay, good. No, listen, Brody’s out looking for me. Sounds like Larek is here,” he said with a sigh. “Just sit tight. If he shows up there, give me a call, okay?” He smiled reassuringly at Liz. “Call Michael and fill him in, too, will you? Yeah, we’ll let you know. Thanks.”

“Zander’s okay?” Liz asked as Max hung up.

“Fine. No sign of anything strange, but she’s going to keep an eye out.”

“You told her to call Michael, though. Why?”

Max glanced at her as he started the Jeep. “I could have just called him myself and asked him to go over to the house, but this way it’ll be his idea. You know he’ll head over as soon as he knows what’s happening. So, I’m not handing out orders and Isabel doesn’t think I don’t trust her, but she still has some back-up.”

“Very diplomatic,” Liz said. However, the knot of panic forming in her stomach pulled that much tighter at the idea that Max wanted Michael guarding Isabel and Zander.

“I’m learning,” he muttered. Reaching over, he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “This may be nothing. I just don’t want to take any chances. Okay?”

She squeezed back. “Okay.”

***

Continued in next post

Continued from previous post

*****

They found the UFO Center ablaze in lights, despite the fact that Max had closed up earlier that evening. He used his key to let them in the front door, then threw the latch behind them.

“It looks like he’s here,” he said quietly. “Come on.” He took Liz by the hand and led her down the stairs.

Sensing movement from above, Liz glanced toward the office. “There,” she said. “I think I saw something.”

“Brody?” Max called out. “That you?”

The thin, pale form of Max’s boss emerged from the shadows on the landing. “Max Evans?”

“Yeah, it’s Max,” he replied, moving into the center of the room so Brody could see him. “Liz’s mom said you were looking for me.”

Brody seemed to relax. “It’s Larek, actually, as I assume you suspected.”

“Well, yes, but I wanted to make sure,” Max said. “What’s going on? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you any time soon.”

Larek frowned. “I have some rather disturbing information for you,” he said. He came down the steps at a brisk pace.

“Is it Nicholas? Has he left New York?” Liz asked anxiously.

“No, not that we’re aware of.”

“Then what?” Max pressed.

“Word has reached Kivar’s court of Ava’s death.”

Max exhaled sharply and his fingers tightened reflexively around Liz’s hand. “You’re sure?”

“Positive. Everyone is speaking of it.”

“Do they know that I killed her?” Max asked hesitantly.

Larek’s frown deepened briefly before smoothing out completely. “No, you misunderstand me, Max. I’m not speaking of the one you called Tess. This was the Ava from the second foursome. I believe part of that set attended the summit with you?”

Liz felt her heart clutch. “You mean Ava from New York? That Ava is dead? What happened to her?”

Larek’s brow furrowed. “She was killed. Report of her death came from someplace called Pennsylvania.”

“So she wasn’t in New York at the time? And Nicholas never left the city?” Max asked.

“Just because Nicholas remained in New York, does not mean he wasn’t behind Ava’s death. Word is that it was an alien kill,” Larek said.

“Oh God,” Liz murmured. “She helped me. She was here for a week, sleeping downstairs on the couch. When she left… God, I never even asked her where she was going. No way would she have gone back to Rath and Lonnie. How could I have just let her—”

“Liz, stop. This isn’t anyone’s fault, okay?” Max said. He took her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “Come on. Hang in there.”

She nodded. “I know. I’m okay. I just—if it hadn’t been for her, Max, I never would have known I could contact you in New York. You would have been dead.”

His mouth tightened and he gave a brief nod. “I know. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He turned back to Larek. “Do we have any idea who did it?”

“Rath and Vilandra are the logical choices,” Larek said, “though I have no confirmation on that. And there is also the question of purpose. Why take out Ava at this point in time?”

“Do they know that Tess is dead, too?” Max asked.

“Not on Antar. I would have heard. If Nicholas is abreast of the situation, he has not passed on the information.”

“So we have two questions, really,” Max said with a weary sigh. “Why kill Ava now? And what is their next move?”

“I’ll try to learn more, but my resources are limited. If the situation is playing out here on Earth without Kivar’s knowledge, my hands are tied.”

“I realize that,” Max said. “We appreciate everything you can find out.”

“I need to go. This body was not fully prepared for me and I am draining its strength.” Larek nodded at them. “If I learn more, expect to hear from me in the next day or so.”

“All right,” Max agreed. “Thank you.” He glanced at Liz. “We better get going. I don’t want to be around when Brody comes to.”

“Will he be all right when he wakes up?” Liz asked.

“He will suffer the usual disorientation, but he should not experience any physical effects,” Larek assured her.

“Come on,” Max said, tugging at her hand. “Let’s go fill in the others.”

***

“Did Larek say how Ava was killed?” Isabel asked.

They were sitting in Max’s room – Max, Liz, Isabel, and Michael – quietly discussing the newest turn of events. Liz had Zander cradled against her chest and was rocking him back and forth, though the soothing motion was more for her own comfort than his.

Max shook his head. “Just that an alien did it. I suppose that narrows things down a little,” he said grimly.

“How can we all come from the same DNA?” Michael muttered. “They kill Zan, now Ava. I can’t believe those two freaks are technically just another version of us.”

“They’re nothing like us,” Isabel declared. “We would never—”

“Never?” Max broke in. “Let’s not forget what happened to Tess.”

“Max, that was completely different,” Liz said.

He shrugged. “Maybe so, but it doesn’t change the facts. I killed her and Michael was there to back me up. Let’s just remember that before we get all self-righteous.”

“You can’t compare what happened with Tess to what they did to Zan,” Isabel said. “Max, they basically pushed him under a truck because he didn’t want to go to the summit.”

“Look, can we get back to the point here?” Michael demanded. “Ava’s dead, probably thanks to Rath and Lonnie. What does it have to do with us?”

“Larek said Ava was killed in Pennsylvania. Why was she there?” Liz asked. “Had she relocated? Or was she on her way someplace?”

“Back to New York, maybe,” Isabel suggest.

”Or away from it,” Max said. “She helped Liz once before. Could she have been on her way here to warn us about something?”

“That’s stretching things, don’t you think?” Michael asked.

Max shrugged. “Not necessarily, given the circumstances. If she was hanging around New York and got wind of something Nicholas was plotting, she might have decided to give us a heads up.”

“What if it’s as simple as Rath and Lonnie finding out that Ava helped us save you?” Isabel suggested. “They could have killed her for screwing up their plans.”

“She’s right,” Liz said. “It’s possible it took them this long to track her down, especially if she was on the move.”

Max sighed. “We have no way of knowing what their motivations were, or even that they were the ones who killed Ava. Not for sure.”

“So what? We just sit here until Larek gets more information?” Michael asked.

“Do you have a better idea?” Max asked.

Looking annoyed, Michael just shook his head.

“You know, if Rath and Lonnie did go after Ava for helping us, then they probably know that Liz is developing powers,” Isabel said quietly.

The knot that had been forming in Liz’s stomach since her mother called tightened a bit more. She closed her eyes and nuzzled Zander’s cheek, inhaling the sweet baby scent. She couldn’t believe how quickly the night had turned around. Just as she felt herself starting to panic, strong fingers settled over the nape of her neck, massaging gently. Warmth chased the shiver that ran down her spine and she felt Max pull her, baby and all, to rest against his chest.

“It’s late,” Max said. “We can talk more tomorrow. I want to fill the others in, too.”

“All right,” Michael said. “You okay getting them home?” he asked.

“Fine. I’ll see you later.” He shifted Liz so he could stand, the reached for Zander. “I’ve got him,” he told her, his arms slipping between her own and the baby. “Come on.”

Liz went about gathering Zander’s things, some of which were in Isabel’s room. Returning with his packed diaper bag, she caught a whisper of conversation between Max and Michael as she stood in the hallway outside Max’s door.

“Michael, I said tomorrow.”

“Fine, but this is important,” Michael pressed.

“What?” was Max’s weary reply.

“You’re assuming Nicholas doesn’t know about Tess, yet, but what if he does? It would give him a damn good reason for killing Ava.”

“I’m tired, Michael. Spell it out.”

“Damn it, Maxwell, stop being so dense,” he hissed. “With both Tess and Ava out of the picture, we no longer have a Four Square. Get it?”

Out in the hallway, Liz leaned against the wall and let out a slow breath. Her heart was suddenly racing, sending ice cold blood pumping through her veins, numbing her to the tips of her toes.

“…Tess was critical to our survival. The four of us together – Michael, Isabel, Tess and I – we made a complete unit. We all have different gifts. With one of us missing we weren’t as strong. Everything fell apart…”

The words echoed through her memory and she shuddered. Goosebumps rose all along her bare arms, despite the heat of the night.

Max emerged from his room a moment later, face pale, Zander held close against his shoulder. Liz straightened up and met his shadowed gaze. He forced a smile, shifting to let Michael pass, acting as if everything was under control . But she knew he understood that she had overheard.

“All set?” he asked.

Liz nodded. “Let’s go.”

***

Back home, Liz went through the motions of thanking her mother for calling earlier. With a little prompting, she then filled her in on her date. She smiled as she described their dinner and the pool match. She laughed off Brody’s forgetfulness regarding some paperwork Max had done and how simple it had been to straighten everything out. Finally, she said good-night to both of her parents, kissing them each on the cheek, then disappeared with Zander to the safety of her room, and shut the door firmly behind her.

She wasn’t at all surprised to find Max waiting on the balcony. “Hey,” she said, sliding open the window.

Max climbed into the room. “You okay?” he asked gently.

Liz forced another smile. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be? All in a day’s work, right?”

“Liz, don’t.”

She shook her head and set about getting Zander ready for bed. She was conscious of Max watching her as she changed the baby’s diaper and put him in clean pajamas, but he remained silent, clearly waiting for her to finish. When she had Zander settled in his cradle, she turned and saw the expression in Max’s eyes. Pained, best described it.

“This isn’t your fault,” she told him.

“It’s not yours, either,” he replied. “Liz, I know you’re scared, but it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

She let out a soft sigh. “I want to believe that,” she whispered. “But you can’t be sure. None of us can. And I can’t help but see these… signs in everything. What Michael said tonight, about the Four Square—”

“Liz, that doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does,” she said. “It all matters. You were sent here together for a reason, Max. And all I keep hearing ringing in my head is how Tess was important. Ava was important. You needed those powers to complete your unit and now…” She trailed off, eyes filling with tears. “How can I not be scared? Tell me.”

Max sighed. He took two steps and pulled her into the circle of his arms, rubbing her back soothingly. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “You’re right. I can ask you to trust me, but it’s not that simple, is it?”

Looking up into his eyes, Liz felt a jolt. “Max, this has nothing to do with trust. I trust you with my life. With Zander’s life. But not everything is under your control.”

“I hate that my life puts you in danger. That I’ve trapped you in this situation.”

“You didn’t trap me,” she said, resting her cheek against his chest. He raised one hand to brush the hair from her face, his fingers tangling in the silky strands. “This is my life, too, Max. I chose it.”

“You didn’t choose it,” he said. “You got dragged in and made the best of it.”

“No,” she corrected. “I did choose it. And even when I got scared, when I backed away, when I tried to run – I always came back. Always, Max,” she whispered.

They stood there for several long minutes, just holding each other. Finally Max pulled away and looked down on her with a wry smile. “Sorry our date got interrupted. We don’t have the greatest track record, do we?”

Liz shrugged. “Michael coated with cobwebs, Topolsky jumping from the bushes, aliens looking to give us bad news.” She tilted her head. “Yeah, maybe not,” she agreed. “But then maybe that’s what we get for trying to do anything normal.”

He brushed a finger over her cheek bone, then down to the corner of her mouth before pulling away. She smiled reflexively. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?” he asked.

“Not in so many words,” she said, dropping her gaze.

“Well, you do.”

“Thank you.”

She glanced back up at him, staring into his eyes. She had a dozen things she wanted to say – to ask. Questions she didn’t have time for earlier in the evening. Why had he finally asked her out? What had prompted him to take this next step? She wanted to know how much progress they were making, and if he thought they were moving by inches or by yards. But the faint glimmer of concern in the depths of his gaze kept her silent. Maybe they were better off not labeling things for now.

“What is it?” he asked.

Liz shook her head. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“It’s not important.”

“Why do I find that doubtful?” he asked, one side of his mouth quirking up in amusement.

“Max, could I…” She bit her lip.

“Go on.”

She looked down. “Would you stay here tonight?” she asked softly. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. They had slept together several nights when bad dreams sent him racing across town to check on her. Only, this was the first time she had ever asked for herself.

“Of course,” he said.

“Thanks.”

They took turns using the bathroom to get ready for bed. Liz changed into a knee-length nightshirt and quickly washed up. When Max emerged from the bathroom, his hair was damp around the edges and he was wearing just his jeans.

“Are you okay like that?” she asked, frowning. “I mean, it’s really hot, even with the air conditioning.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her.

Liz turned out the light and they each lay down on their side of the bed. As always, there was a long, awkward moment when they avoided bumping each other. With Zander in his cradle, they had more room and it was actually possible to keep from touching.

Finally, Max let out a quiet sigh. “Liz?” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

She rolled slowly to her side, so they were face to face. He propped himself up on his elbow and, with his free hand, gently traced the line of her face in the dark. One finger trailed over her lips. She kept expecting him to lean down and kiss her – could feel him wanting to – but something was holding him back.

“What?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”

He dropped his hand to her shoulder, ran his palm down her arm. “Nothing,” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine.” With that, he pulled her against his chest, shifting so she was cradled against him. “Go to sleep.”

Resting her cheek against the warmth of his skin, Liz closed her eyes. His arms tightened around her and she felt a brush of lips against her hair. She was enveloped by his warmth, his familiar scent, by the sensation of safety she always experienced when he held her. Whatever else was going on, for now this was enough to keep her grounded.

She pressed a small kiss to the spot beneath her cheek, where his heart beat strong and steady. “Good-night, Max,” she murmured.

“Good-night, Liz.”

***

TBC

******

Part 32

******

“Shh, it’s okay. Up you go.”

Max’s hushed voice drew Liz from the depths of sleep. It only took her a moment to realize the sound was coming from the side of the room where Zander was tucked into his cradle. She opened her eyes and let them adjust to the scant light. It was just bright enough for her to make out the silhouette of Max’s back as he leaned over and scooped the baby into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” Max cooed quietly.

Liz couldn’t help but smile. Max had grown adept at handling Zander over the past few months, yet the sight of them together never failed to make her heart swell with warmth and love.

A low rumble of laughter reached her ears. “Sorry, pal. Daddies don’t work that way,” Max said with a chuckle.

Straining to see, Liz realized Zander was nuzzling Max’s bare chest, no doubt in search of a late night snack. It was all she could do to smother her own laughter as Max turned toward the bed. She quickly shut her eyes and struggled to keep her breathing even, not wanting to give herself away.

Max sighed quietly. “You’re going to make me wake her up, aren’t you?” he murmured. Zander began fussing audibly, his small cries just a notch below tearful protest. “Okay, okay,” Max soothed.

The bed dipped beside her and Liz rolled deliberately toward Max and the baby, curling comfortably into her pillow. A gentle hand brushed the hair off her face.

“Liz?”

“Hmmm,” she replied.

“Liz, it’s Zander. He needs to be fed.” The hand stroked over her shoulder and rubbed her upper arm. “You want me to see if there’s a bottle in the fridge?”

That got her attention. Opening her eyes, she stared up at Max. “What?” she managed.

Max smiled. “Sorry. He’s hungry,” he said by way of explanation, gently laying Zander between them. “Are there any bottles in the kitchen? I can feed him if you want to sleep.”

Liz shook her head and shifted to a sitting position. “Thanks for the offer, but you are not wandering through the apartment at two am with my parents home.”

He shrugged as she lifted Zander into her arms. “I’d have been quiet.”

“My father’s just stopped eyeing you like you’re an axe murderer,” she pointed out. “It would be nice to keep it that way.”

“Aaahhh,” Zander declared, his small mouth wide.

“Okay, sweetie,” Liz said, bouncing him with one arm while she undid the front of her nightshirt. “Mommy’s here. There you go,” she said as he began to nurse. She stroked his smooth cheek, traced the swirl of his tiny ear, smiling as he settled down, his expression one of utter contentment.

“Amazing,” Max murmured.

“What?” she asked, looking up.

“Just, you know,” he said, nodding at the baby. “To have such simple needs.” He reached out and cupped the top of Zander’s head, smoothing back his fine hair. “To be able to just lie back and trust that your parents are going to take care of everything.”

Liz watched Max silently for a few minutes. “You’ve never felt that, have you?” she asked finally. He glanced up, startled. “Not even when your parents first adopted you,” she added.

“I—I guess not,” he agreed. “There was always this nagging sensation that we were different. Even before I understood how. And that we had to be careful.”

“Did you ever feel safe?”

“Safe?” he echoed. “I don’t think it was that I didn’t feel safe. At least not at the beginning.” He frowned. “It was more a sense that I didn’t belong. I wanted to go home, or thought I did, even though I couldn’t remember where home was. Isabel was all about fitting in, right from the start. I suppose I never believed that I could.”

“Do you now?” she questioned quietly.

“Feel safe?” he shot back, eyebrows rising.

“No, do you feel like you belong?” Liz looked up at him and waited.

Max returned her gaze, his eyes thoughtful. “I haven’t thought about it recently,” he admitted. “Not in the way you’re thinking. I suppose that means I do.”

Liz nodded and turned her attention back to Zander, but she kept playing Max’s statement over in her mind. It told her a great deal about his need for structure and control – much more than any past life role as a leader. The sad truth was that Max had never had anyone to take care of him – not completely – and that wasn’t something they could go back and change. His urgent sense of responsibility came from years of conditioning, not just in one life but in two.

Once Zander had fallen back asleep, Max returned him to his cradle and slipped back into bed with Liz. This time, there was no hesitant pause. Instead he gathered her in his arms and pulled her against his chest. Lying with her cheek pressed against his smooth skin, Liz let herself relax into his embrace. Every curve and line of her body seemed to settle against his, and the thought came unbidden that, here, at least, Max fit perfectly.

Emboldened by his warm, affectionate behavior toward her, Liz came to a decision. “Max?” she whispered.

“Hmm?” he asked, his tone more thoughtful than sleepy.

“Why tonight? Our date, I mean. What made you ask me out now?” She braced herself for his withdrawal, or at the very least for a refusal to discuss it. However, he merely shifted, threading his fingers through her hair and stroking the nape of her neck with his finger tips.

“Actually, it was Isabel.”

That was the last response Liz expected. She lifted her head and stared at him. “Isabel told you we should go on a date?”

Max smirked. “No,” he assured her. He applied gentle pressure to the back of her head, urging her to relax against him. “It was a conversation we had. About Alex.”

Even without looking, Liz knew Max was no longer smiling. “What about him?”

“I went out to the cemetery the other day. I hadn’t been since the funeral, not since before we knew the truth about what happened. I guess I just wanted to… explain. To apologize for not seeing through Tess’s lies.” He let out a quiet sigh. “Iz showed up while I was in the middle of spilling my guts. I didn’t realize she goes out a couple of times a week, brings fresh flowers, that sort of thing.”

“I didn’t know that either,” Liz said.

“I asked her how she does it. How she gets through each day, knowing we’re responsible for Alex’s death.”

Liz jerked her head up again. “Max, you’re not!”

“Shh,” he soothed her. “Let me finish, all right?”

She lay down again, but she tightened her arms around him. In turn, Max smoothed her hair over her back, then wrapped the ends around his hand, his thumb stroking her spine.

“Isabel told me that for a long time she couldn’t get past what Tess did to Alex. That she kept going over the last two years in her head, looking for clues that this was where we would end up, but that she couldn’t find any. And she said that she had to forgive herself for not seeing anything. Every morning she gets up and reminds herself that you don’t blame us for what happened. That Maria and Kyle and Valenti don’t blame us. And that if you can exonerate us so completely, there’s no reason for us to think any other way.”

“She’s right, Max.”

“I know,” he agreed.

“Why every day?”

“That’s the part that really sunk in for me,” he explained. “Isabel said forgiveness isn’t like a switch you flip. Bam, one day you decide to forgive someone. It’s a constant process. Each time a situation presents itself where your instinct tells you to lash out, instead you make the choice to let it go. You forgive each day until whatever prompts that anger or fear or hurt simply ceases to come up. Like conditioning. She’s conditioning herself to go on with her life, because that’s what Alex would have wanted her to do.”

“Just how does that relate to our going to dinner?”

“I guess trust is a lot like forgiveness,” Max murmured. “I can’t just wait for it to grow back, like a bad haircut. There’s no way of measuring something like that. Trust doesn’t come in degrees. The only way to know for sure that I’m ready to move forward, is to move forward.”

“I’m glad.”

“Even though our night ended with the usual alien chaos?”

Liz snuggled closer against him. “It’s never been about what we do together, Max.”

“I guess that’s a good thing,” he said, sounding vaguely amused.

The lightness of his tone made her smile. “Go to sleep,” she whispered. “Busy day tomorrow.”

Max sighed. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“Hmm,” Liz replied, already halfway asleep.

***

Max went into the UFO Center the next day under the guise of needing to finish up some work in the storage room. In reality, he had been intent on sticking close to Brody in the event that Larek made another appearance. Liz spent the morning filling Kyle and his father in on the latest news, then took Zander down to the café where both Michael and Maria were on duty. Isabel showed up shortly after lunch, and the two of them commandeered the back booth.

“How’s it going?” Isabel asked worriedly. “Max didn’t get home until six this morning, then he was out the door so fast, I didn’t get a chance to ask him any questions. Did something else happen last night?”

Liz shook her head. “I just, you know. Felt safer with him here.”

Isabel exhaled sharply. “I’ll bet.” She glanced at Zander, who was sitting propped up in his carrier. Her expression softened as he smiled broadly and waved one fist in the air. “Mom asked me if I thought you’d want her to watch him today. I said no. I hope you don’t mind?”

“No, you’re right. I don’t feel like letting him out of my sight right now,” she admitted, holding out a finger for Zander to grab. He wrapped his own tiny fingers around hers and giggled. “Right, little guy? You’re hanging out with all the grown ups today.”

“Might as well get used to group meetings young,” Isabel muttered.

Liz watched as Maria swept by with a tray of orders. She looked tired and tense.

“I take it Michael filled her in?”

“Yeah,” Liz said. “He ended up heading over to her house once we’d all left. She’s not taking it too well.”

“And the rest of us are?”

“You know Michael. He just dropped it on her like a bomb and then got frustrated when she freaked.”

“Doesn’t he ever learn?” Isabel groaned.

“He was thinking in terms of me and Max and the baby,” Liz said.

“While Maria’s thoughts went right to Michael’s safety.”

“Not just his. She’s scared for all of us, but it’s a good bet she’s thinking more about Michael than Michael is.”

“It’s not like we know anything for sure.”

“We know Ava’s dead,” Liz said softly. “Isn’t that enough?”

Isabel frowned. “I can’t believe that’s all we have to go on.”

Maria came over, order pad in hand. “You guys want anything?”

“Just fries and a coke,” Isabel said.

“Vanilla shake for me,” Liz replied. “When’s your break?”

Maria sighed and shot a glance at the clock. “Half hour, if this day would stop crawling.”

“Maria!” Michael bellowed from the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back.”

“He’s in a mood,” Isabel noted. “Is Max that on edge?”

“No. Actually, he was pretty calm last night,” Liz said, frowning at the thought.

“Good. Someone needs to be.”

“Yeah, well. It’s kind of out of character though. I think I’d feel better if he were panicking a little.”

“Maybe he’s just waiting until he knows for sure what he should be panicking about?” Isabel suggested.

Liz’s eyes had followed Maria’s progress over to the pass through. Despite his loud summons, Michael’s expression was gentle as he spoke quietly with Maria. Liz watched as the line of her friend’s back softened, as her head tipped forward. Michael cupped her cheek briefly and murmured something that made Maria’s cheeks grow pink. Something about the scene reminded her of the feeling of Max holding her in his arms the night before, keeping her safe.

“Maybe,” she whispered.

***

“What the hell is he doing over there?” Michael grumbled. He and Maria had just finished their shift, yet Max still not come over from the UFO Center.

“We’re supposed to be meeting at your apartment, anyway,” Isabel reminded him. “You and Maria go, Michael. Someone needs to be there to let Kyle and his dad in. I’ll stay here.”

Liz looked up from changing Zander. “Wait a minute, is this about guard duty? Did Max make you guys promise to keep an eye on me?” she demanded.

“Um, not exactly,” Isabel said. “We just figured it was a good idea.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “Isabel can stay. We’ll see you guys in a little while.”

“That’s it?” Michael asked. “No yelling or throwing things?”

Liz gave him a dirty look, then turned to Maria. “Get him out of here, please.”

“Come on, Spaceboy. Before you dig yourself a bigger hole.”

“What did I say?” he groused. “Can’t even ask a simple question.” His litany of complaints could be heard until Maria had dragged him outside and the back door shut behind them.

“You need anything else for Zander?” Isabel asked Liz. “Diapers, change of clothes?”

“We’re fine, thanks,” she said, snapping the bottom of his short romper.

“You’re angry.”

“No, I’m not,” Liz replied honestly. “Just… annoyed. Not at you, but at the circumstances.”

“I can understand that.”

“And I can understand your concern. But I also doubt much will happen to either me or Zander sitting in the middle of a busy restaurant.”

“Really,” Isabel said quietly. “So I suppose if Lonnie walked in here looking like me you could tell the difference?”

“I—” Liz pulled up short, realizing what she was getting at. “I suppose not,” she agreed reluctantly.

“Max had an entire conversation with Lonnie and Rath and never knew they weren’t me and Michael. We just… we’re being careful. That’s all.”

Liz sat on the couch and drew the baby onto her lap. She stared up at Isabel for a long moment, thinking how far their relationship had come in the past few months. A year ago they were barely friends, on speaking terms merely because of the secrets that joined them. Now they were practically sisters.

“I’m sorry I was a little short tempered,” she sighed. “It’s just that I hate being this… burden.”

Isabel dropped down beside her. “Liz, you’re not. This isn’t about you needing someone to take care of you. We care about you. And you’d never have been in danger if you didn’t know us, so it all evens out, okay?”

Liz let out a little laugh. “That’s faulty logic, but I won’t fight you on it.”

The back door of the café flew open, startling both girls and making Zander tremble. Max appeared, his face completely expressionless.

“Max, what is it?” Liz asked, pulling Zander closer to calm him.

Max’s eyes settled on them and something akin to relief flittered through his dark gaze. “Good, you’re still here.” He glanced around. “Michael and Maria gone?”

“They went ahead to Michael’s,” Isabel replied. “Max, what’s going on?”

He advanced into the small room and dropped on his knees in front of Liz. “Hey, guy,” he cooed, taking Zander from her arms and cradling him against his shoulder. He bounced him gently for a moment, brushing a kiss over his cheek. The baby nuzzled into him, rubbing his face against Max’s shirt, then yawned, his eyes drifting shut.

Liz watched Max’s absorption in Zander, her heart already racing. Something was wrong. “Max, you’re scaring me,” she said.

Max met her gaze, his dark eyes unreadable. But he reached out and cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her cheekbone. The gesture, coupled with the way he was looking at her, felt so intimate that Liz knew the warmth in her cheeks had nothing to do with the temperature.

“Max, you are seriously freaking me out here,” came Isabel’s admonishment. “What the hell happened?”

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, still staring at Liz.

A pit seemed to open at the bottom of Liz’s stomach. Whatever was going on, Max was on the verge of breaking. “Max…” she whispered.

As if released from a spell, he suddenly became all business. “Iz, could you take Zander over to Michael’s for us?” he asked, rising to his feet.

“Not until you tell me what has you acting so crazy,” she replied, but she held out her arms for him to pass her the baby.

“Max, did Larek come again?” Liz guessed.

He held up his hands, one to each of them. “Isabel, Liz and I need to talk right now,” he said. “I’ll go over everything at the meeting, I promise. Yes, Liz, Larek put in another appearance. He had more information, and none of it good,” he added grimly. “Look,” he said, appealing to his sister again. “We’ll be an hour, maybe a little more. That’s it. Just take Zander straight to Michael’s okay? And don’t answer the door to anyone other than the Valentis until we get there.”

“Are you saying that someone other than them might come knocking?” Isabel pressed.

“No,” he said hesitantly. “Not tonight.”

Isabel’s eyes grew wider and she simply nodded. “I’ll be careful,” she promised, seeming to sense that was what Max needed her to say.

Max relaxed visibly at her words. “Thanks, Iz.” He stroked Zander’s head once more, then grabbed his diaper bag off the floor and passed it to his sister.

Liz stepped forward and pressed a kiss to her son’s cheek. Her eyes met with Isabel’s and held briefly, each wordlessly promising to take care of their charges. “Drive carefully,” she murmured.

Isabel nodded. “See you in a little bit.” She hoisted the strap of Zander’s bag over her shoulder, took her own bag and left.

Turning to Max, Liz realized his self control was already starting to crumble. It dawned on her that he had been struggling to remain calm for the baby’s sake. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Max, what did Larek tell you?”

He shook his head, clearly trying to pull himself back together, but his eyes were haunted. “Not here,” was all he would say. He took her hand and led her out to the Jeep. His distraction was obvious from the haphazard way he had parked, so close to the building that Liz was forced to climb in on the driver’s side and scoot across. She’d barely buckled in before the vehicle roared to life and he was swinging away from the brick face of the Crashdown and zooming down the alley.

“Max, slow down,” she pleaded, half afraid as he downshifted abruptly and idled at the turn off to the main street.

“Sorry,” he said, exhaling slowly. His eyes flicked from left to right, then back, as if he wasn’t sure which way to go. When he finally eased out onto the street, he headed out of town.

They drove in silence for several minutes, Liz’s apprehension growing exponentially as the miles ticked off. It was early evening and the sun was low in the sky, but Max seemed not to notice, barely squinting as they drove steadily west. Not until they were well out of town did he pull off the highway, taking them about a half mile straight into the desert before finally cutting the engine. Then he got out and just started walking. It was the middle of no where, no houses or businesses in sight, and far from any of their normal getaway spots. Despite the heat, Liz felt a shiver run down her spine as she slipped from the Jeep and followed Max.

He stopped about thirty yards along, simply standing there until Liz caught up with him. Then he tugged her gently into his arms and held her, resting his head on top of hers.

Liz wrapped her arms around Max’s waist and took a deep breath. “What did Larek say?” she asked, her voice sounding oddly small and flat, swallowed by the landscape.

“They’re coming,” he whispered. “Rath and Lonnie. On Nicholas’s orders. For you.” His arms tightened perceptibly with his last words.

Suddenly Liz felt like she couldn’t breathe at all. While the news wasn’t entirely unexpected, it appeared she wasn’t the least bit prepared to hear it.

Max’s grip loosened and he drew her down to the ground, dropping where they stood and pulling her to sit sprawled over his lap. He rocked her gently as he continued to speak. “Nicholas had them go after Ava once he learned she had stayed behind with you in Roswell, last fall during the summit. He wanted to know what she’d learned about you. I’m not sure where they tracked her down, but they took her back to New York and Nicholas… he mind raped her.”

Liz shuddered at the thought of what Ava must have endured, simply because they had spent a few days confiding in each other. “How did she end up in Pennsylvania?”

“She escaped somehow. Nicholas sent Rath and Lonnie after her so she wouldn’t be able to warn us.”

“So she was coming here?”

“There’s no way to know for sure, but it was Nicholas’s assumption.”

“And they know… what? That I’m developing powers?” she asked cautiously.

“They know anything and everything that Ava did.” He pulled back and looked her in the eyes, his expression grave. “Liz, did she know you were pregnant?”

Liz blinked. “Um… no. I.. I didn’t even know yet.” She shook her head. “There’s no way that Ava could have.”

“You never connected with her or anything like that, did you?”

“No. I mean, she told me I could contact you in New York, but it was Isabel I connected with. And even she didn’t know about the baby.” She shook her head again, feeling a small measure of relief. “Max, Ava didn’t know,” she repeated firmly.

“Okay,” he whispered, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. “That’s one thing. But they still know about your powers, Liz.”

“But they’re hardly anything. I’ve gotten a few flashes, I helped Isabel reach you… it’s not like I’m running around blowing things up,” she pointed out.

“They don’t know that. Even we don’t really know the extent of your abilities. Have you tried to do anything else?”

“Well, no,” she admitted softly, somehow thrown by the idea. It had never occurred to her she might have more abilities that hadn’t manifested.

Max stroked her back soothingly. “I’m not saying you can, just that we can’t rule anything out. And either way, they know you’re important to me, Liz,” he murmured. “Even without powers. We may have lost the four square, but we still have the Granolith. And Nicholas wants it.”

Suddenly Liz understood. They weren’t out here for Max to break the news to her; they were out here because he had a plan, and he knew she wasn’t going to like it. Somehow, he was going to try to protect her – her and Zander both.

“Just tell me,” she said.

Max sighed. “I want you to take Zander and go to Florida,” he told her. “Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” she gasped.

“Rath and Lonnie were just crossing into Oklahoma this afternoon. Assuming they stop for the night, they’ll still be in Roswell by late tomorrow. Liz, you can’t be here.”

“But tomorrow? We’re not supposed to go for another three weeks. How do I explain this to my parents?”

“We’ll think of something. Tell them you’re tired, that Rachel’s had a change in her schedule, I don’t care. It doesn’t make any difference, Liz, as long as the two of you are gone.”

“The two…” His words began to sink in. “You’re not coming with us?”

“Liz, you know I can’t. I have to be here with Isabel and Michael when they get here. We have to handle this now, or else they’ll just keep coming after us.”

“So I’m just supposed to go run and hide while you go to war? Is that it?” she snapped.

“No,” he said, his tone fierce. He pulled her around so they were kneeling face to face, his hand firm on her shoulders. “You’re supposed to take our son and protect him. Liz, they don’t know about Zander, but they will if you’re here when they arrive. All it takes is one glimpse. And God forbid they should get their hands on you…” He took a shuddering breath. “Even if we somehow kept Zander out of sight, it wouldn’t take much for them to determine you gave birth. The things they could do to you, Liz…” He shook his head. “You have to take Zander and leave.”

Tears were streaming down her face. “What if something happens to you?” she whispered. “Max, please.”

“I’ll be careful,” he said. “I swear. But if something does… go wrong, I need to know you and Zander are safe. That you’ll take him and run if need be. Promise me, Liz.”

“But Max—”

“Do you trust me?” His gaze was pinned on hers, desperate and demanding.

The words rang in her ears, and her heart. All of a sudden, they were talking about so much more than running for their lives. This was about them – their relationship – and how they related to one another. Max had told her that he didn’t trust her not to break his heart again, that learning to trust again was a daily process, but that was only part of the battle. Max did not trust himself. Whatever self confidence he had was shattered when he thought he’d been wrong to trust Liz, and that effect had only been compounded by Tess’s betrayal. Max had trusted Tess, Liz had not, and Liz had been correct in her assessment, leaving Max doubting his own.

So this was the question – the ultimate test. Not did Max trust Liz, but could Liz trust Max? He needed her to believe in him – not some future version with years more experience, but him, Max Evans, the man standing right in front of her. The man for whom she had lied, jumped off bridges, risked her life, and broken her heart. Max.

He was waiting for her answer, his eyes haunted by a shade of apprehension. It shook Liz to the core. He honestly didn’t know how she would answer.

“Of course I do,” she whispered, throwing her arms around his neck. She clung to him as he held her, their breathing in complete sync, his heart beating strongly against hers.

“You’ll go, then?” he asked quietly, his voice muffled by her hair.

She let out a shuddering sigh. “I’ll go,” she promised.

*****

TBC

******

Part 33

******

“Do you have everything?”

“I think so.” Liz patted the pocket that held her plane ticket. “Yes.”

Max set her carry-on bag at her feet. He had walked her through airport check-in, helping with the numerous things she needed for Zander, but now they had reached the security gate and only passengers were allowed to continue.

“Call me as soon as you land,” he told her. “I’m going to mute the ringer on my cell, so just leave a voice mail and I’ll call you right back. I want you to keep your phone on and charged, twenty-four/seven.”

“I will.” She shifted the baby in his carrier, positioning him more comfortably against her chest. He blinked sleepily and rubbed his face against her.

“I wish you didn’t have to fly by yourself,” Max sighed. “You’re sure your aunt is meeting you?”

“Yes, she’s coming. We’ll be fine.” A muffled voice echoed over the loudspeaker, announcing her flight was ready to board. “That’s us,” she murmured.

“Right.” His gaze dropped to Zander. “Okay, little guy. Don’t give Mommy any trouble,” he said. Leaning in, he kissed the baby’s downy head. Then he pulled back and cupped his small cheek, angling his face so he could look in his eyes. Liz watched as they stared at each other for a long moment, amazed at how effortless the connection was. Finally Max stepped slightly closer and passed his palm over Zander’s brow. A spray of tiny white lights, almost like stars, appeared over the baby’s skin, then vanished as if they had never been.

“What was that?” Liz breathed.

Max shook his head briefly, then met her questioning gaze. “Nothing. Just… a memory.”

Liz felt her heart seize. All the way to the airport, Max had been the picture of confidence, so relaxed and in control that she had almost begun to believe that everything would be all right. Now, faced with saying good-bye, he was acting as if he might never see them again.

“Oh God, what are we doing? Max, just come with us,” she begged. “We won’t go to Florida. We’ll run. It doesn’t matter where.”

“They’d find us. This is our best chance,” he whispered, closing the remaining space so that Zander was all that separated them. “We need to face them here, on our own terms.”

“I don’t want to leave you.” Tears filled her eyes and she blinked so she could see him.

“This is temporary. I promise.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers, lifting one hand to cup her damp cheek. The other arm slipped around her waist, his palm resting at the small of her back. “Shh,” he soothed. “It’s going to be fine. I have Michael and Isabel. Everyone knows what to do.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.” He pulled back a few scant inches and smiled tenderly. “Try not to worry too much.”

“You are kidding, right?” she muttered.

“Actually, yeah,” he admitted. He wrapped his arms back around both her and Zander and let his head rest on top of hers. They stood that way until another announcement over the address system prompted him to release her with a sigh. “Have a safe flight.”

Liz nodded. “You…” She trailed off with a little shrug. Further words of caution were pointless. “I love you, Max.”

“I love you, too,” he replied. “Both of you.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and drew her close, brushing his mouth over hers in the softest of kisses. Then he kissed her forehead, his lips lingering briefly before he stepped back. Without another word, he picked up her bag and dropped it on the conveyor belt to be X-rayed.

“I guess I’d better go,” she said softly. “Talk to you tonight.”

“Remember what I told you. Don’t get upset if I don’t answer my phone.”

“I won’t,” she said. She pulled her ticket out of her pocket, but her feet refused to move. She stood there, staring at Max, unable to walk away.

“Don’t do this. Liz, you have to get on that plane.” Beneath his quiet tone was a note of urgency. A third call sounded for her flight, adding further weight to his statement.

“I know,” she whispered. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to turn and take two steps before she spun back toward Max. Grabbing the front of his shirt with one hand, she rose on her toes and wrapped her free arm around the back of his neck, nearly dropping her plane ticket in the process. She kissed him hard, pouring every ounce of love she felt into the embrace. When their lips parted, he was holding her just as tightly as she was him.

“You told me once you were coming for me,” she murmured breathlessly, looking into his eyes. “I’m holding you to that.”

“I’ll be there,” he said. “Assuming you are,” he added with a wry smile. “Get on the damn plane, Liz.”

“I’m going.” She quickly smoothed her palm over the front of his rumpled t-shirt where she had grabbed him, then turned and headed for the gate.

***

Despite her exhaustion, Liz found herself unable to sleep on the plane. She tried glancing through the magazine the flight attendant brought her, but it was too difficult with Zander cradled on her lap. In the end she simply stared out the window at the clouds and allowed her jumbled thoughts free reign, playing back everything the had happened over the previous twenty-four hours.

Once she had agreed to go to Florida, Max went into high gear. They had driven straight to Michael’s apartment for the meeting, where the actual discussion was brief. Only in the midst of listening to them map out the plan had it dawned on Liz that Max and Michael had prepared thoroughly for this eventuality. Virtually everything had been considered and organized, and all that remained was to fill in the others and get feedback. The biggest obstacle they were facing was their parents, and how to explain Liz’s sudden need to leave town yet again.

“What if Brody couldn’t let you have the end of August off?” Isabel finally suggested to Max. “School starts right after that, so you couldn’t delay the trip. You’d have to go earlier.”

“But tomorrow?” he replied. “That’s awfully short notice, Iz. Plus, I’m not actually leaving.”

Isabel shrugged. “No one has to know that. You’re going to need to skip out of work anyway, Max. If you stay at Michael’s, no one would have to know you’re still in town. And Brody’s a little off. Mom and Dad won’t think twice about him flaking on you.”

“She has a point,” Maria agreed. “Will Brody go for it, though?”

Max nodded. “He won’t care. As long as I’m back before the Crashfest in September, I could go to the moon and back and he’d be fine with it.”

That decided, all that remained was to settle things with the adults. Liz had called Florida to clear the change with Rachel, while Max went in search of Brody. Having received approval from both sides, they headed home to tackle their parents. Liz’s father had been grumpy at the idea of reworking the Crashdown schedule, but other than that, things had gone surprisingly well. Her mother had even smiled and offered to help her with any last minute laundry she needed to do.

Even so, Liz was up half the night getting everything packed and ready. Max came over after her parents were asleep, and they had diligently hidden away every possible sign of Zander’s existence. By the time they finally crawled into bed, her closet was stuffed to overflowing, but the room itself looked completely normal. Anyone snooping around would have to actually climb through the window and toss the place to discover that Liz was a mother.

“What about my parents?” Liz had asked Max that morning. “If Lonnie or Rath comes poking around, all it’ll take is one slip for them to find out about Zander – or even that we’re in Florida.”

“Michael and Isabel are going to be here during the day,” he had assured her. “Rath and Lonnie won’t risk showing their faces in the café while they’re in plain sight.”

“And at night?”

“Then I’ll be here,” Max assured her. “After the café’s locked, I’ll be able to see anyone trying to access the apartment entrance from your balcony. They won’t get to your parents, Liz, I promise.”

“Aaahh,” Zander cooed, drawing Liz’s attention back to the present. She bounced him gently, noting as she did that the plane had started to circle lower for landing.

“Seat belt fastened?” the flight attendant asked, leaning in from the aisle. “You all right?”

“Yes, thanks,” Liz replied.

The woman smiled warmly. “One of our representatives will meet you at the gate to help you to your connecting flight.”

Liz nodded, knowing Max had arranged for the special treatment along with everything else. She’d been almost afraid to ask how much the bumped up plane tickets cost until Michael muttered something about the hand being quicker than the eye. When she had asked what he meant, he had explained that Max used her existing ticket and simply changed the flight information with his powers. Glancing at the return date, she had been disconcerted to find the ticket was now open ended.

***

Zander slept through the final leg of the trip, waking only as they touched down on the runway in Florida. Liz strapped him back into the baby carrier, shouldered her bag, and made the slow trip up the aisle to the exit. She felt as if her head were on crooked, fatigue dragging at her limbs and throwing every inch of her off balance. It was an immense relief to finally reach the baggage claim area and spot her aunt waiting.

Rachel looked cool and crisp in a loose-fitting white tank top and khaki shorts, her hair twisted up on top of her head. She waved the moment she saw Liz and headed over, dragging an airport luggage cart behind her.

“I can’t believe I’m a great aunt,” she declared, wrapping her arms around both Liz and Zander for a quick hug. Pulling back, she gazed down at the baby. “He’s absolutely adorable,” she said, brushing a finger over one plump baby cheek, smiling when he blinked at her sleepily. “God, look at those eyes. He’s gonna be a heartbreaker.”

“No doubt about it,” Liz agreed.

Rachel glanced up, looking past her with a frown. “Where’s Max?” She shifted her gaze to Liz. “After all this, you know I’m dying to meet him.”

“Um, yeah. Max isn’t here. Not yet,” she added quickly, as her aunt’s frown deepened.

“He didn’t come? Why not? I thought the whole point of your coming this week was that it was the only time he could get off from work.”

Liz sighed. This was the one eventuality for which she was ill-prepared. She had asked Max that morning as they drove to the airport, what should she tell her aunt to account for his absence? His reply had been startlingly vague. Instead of providing her with some carefully thought out excuse, he simply said he trusted her. That she knew Rachel, while he did not, and so she should say as little or as much as she felt was necessary given the circumstances. The fact that he had left the situation so entirely in her hands made her nervous.

“He’ll be here,” she replied. “He just had to take care of a few things before he could leave and he didn’t see any reason for me to sit around waiting for him.” She watched her aunt’s expression, hoping she would accept the overly simple explanation.

Rachel’s frown lessened slightly. “But everything’s all right with the two of you?” she probed. “I got the idea you were working things out. I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

“No, you weren’t wrong. We didn’t have a fight or anything,” Liz assured her with a smile. “In fact, I need to call and let him know we arrived.” She struggled to fish her cell phone out of her bag.

“Here, let me,” Rachel said. She slipped the carry-on from Liz’s shoulder and set it on the front of the luggage cart.

“Thanks,” Liz told her.

Behind them, the luggage carousel ground to life, causing Zander to start and press against Liz. People began inching closer to the conveyor belt to claim their bags as they came tumbling out of the shoot in a haphazard fashion. Frowning at the noise, Liz left her phone where it was.

“Maybe you should wait until we have your things,” Rachel suggested, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the din.

“My thoughts exactly,” Liz agreed.

Bags collected, they made their way across the hot parking lot to the car. Liz had only packed one suitcase for the two of them, thankful that Zander’s clothes were so small they took up very little space, but between that, her carry-on tote, and the portable crib, she managed to nearly fill her aunt’s trunk. By the time she finished strapping Zander into his car seat, her blouse clung to her sweaty frame. She had forgotten how much humidity accompanied the Florida heat.

As soon as they were underway, the air conditioner blowing full blast, Liz fired up her cell phone. Per Max’s request, she left a voice mail telling him they had arrived safely, then went on to call her parents. She had barely hung up when the phone rang in her hand, startling her so that she dropped it in her lap. The caller I.D. informed her that it was Max.

She answered instantly. “Hey,” she said, relieved to be hearing from him so quickly.

“Hi,” he replied, sounding no less glad to be speaking with her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. We’re on the way to my aunt’s now.”

“And the flights were all right? Zander didn’t give you any problems?”

“Don’t you know he was born to fly?” she teased gently. “He was an angel. How about you? Am I missing anything good?”

He snorted softly. “No sign of them yet. I’m just heading over to the Crashdown. So, was your aunt okay with my not coming?”

“Sort of. I told her you’d be here as soon as you took care of things. She’s looking forward to meeting you.”

“I take it you weren’t specific regarding the nature of those things. Thank you,” he murmured. “I’m sorry you have to do this.”

“I know. Just keep me up to date, all right?”

“I will. I better go. The last thing I need is for one of your parents to hear me slipping up to your balcony. Take it easy and I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay.” She turned toward the window, away from her aunt, the phone pressed tightly to her ear. “Max?”

“I know,” he said. “I’ll be careful. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

Everything was very quiet after she hung up, the soft whirl of the air conditioner and the car engine the only noises to mar the silence. Finally, Liz felt her aunt brush a gentle hand over her shoulder.

“You miss him already,” Rachel observed.

“Yeah,” Liz agreed.

“Then I hope he gets here soon.”

Liz let out a barely audible sigh. “Me too.”

***

Rachel helped Liz take everything to her room, then left her to settle Zander and get cleaned up for dinner. The bedroom was much as she had left it when she rushed home for Alex’s funeral, but the furniture had been shifted around to allow space to set up the crib. Liz took a few minutes to unpack Zander’s blanket and his favorite rattle so the surroundings would seem more familiar. He watched her move about from his position on the bed, his dark eyes serious.

“Aahh,” he announced, waving his small hands in the air. “Ah ah.”

“You want this?” she asked, holding out the plastic toy. It was in the shape of a spaceship – a gift from Michael that had sent Max into a fit of laughter.

Zander curled his fingers around the handle and gave the rattle a good shake. “Ah ah ah,” he declared. “Da.” He waved the toy again, in the direction of his crib.

“What did you say?” Liz sank down on the bed beside him. “Daddy? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Aahh.”

She closed her eyes and gave a little sigh. Clearly her fatigue was getting to her because, at just over three months old, Zander was still far too young to start speaking. “Okay little guy,” she murmured, gazing down on her son. “How about we feed you and get you into your jammies, huh?”

Zander drifted off soon after he was finished eating. Liz set up the baby monitor, then took a quick shower before joining her aunt in the kitchen for dinner. She felt somewhat revived, but a heavy wave of lethargy hovered just out of reach, ready to swamp her at any moment. Even with her internal clock set to Roswell time, she knew she would be ready for bed early.

“So, how are you enjoying motherhood?” Rachel asked. “And I’m expecting the unexpurgated version, please. Your parents are nowhere within earshot.”

Liz smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t trade Zander for anything,” she admitted quietly. “He’s my life. Every morning, I look at that little round face smiling up at me, and I can barely remember a time when he wasn’t here.”

“That quick, huh?”

“Yeah,” she replied a bit wistfully.

“Well, clearly he’s a charmer. Though I imagine he’s considerably less charming at two in the morning.”

“He’s not much of a crier, actually. I won’t say I’m not seriously sleep deprived,” she said with a wry smile. “But it’s worth it.”

“How are Jeff and Nancy dealing now that all of this is a reality?” Rachel shook her head. “I just cannot picture my sister as a grandmother.”

“She’s less than thrilled with the label, believe me,” Liz agreed. “But they love Zander, so it’s okay. They’ve been a little… high handed at times. I can’t say it’s been easy. I guess it’s probably the hardest thing, having a child and feeling responsible for him and needing to remind my parents that these are my decisions now.”

“You knew it would be difficult for them to let go.”

“Yes, but knowing and dealing with it every day are two different things. Most of the time I’m so tired I don’t know which way up is. The last thing I need is to argue with them.” She exhaled sharply. “They’re getting better. We’re… trying to communicate more.”

“And Max?”

“We’re communicating more, too.” Liz frowned, wondering just what he was doing at that moment. She hated the idea of him spending the night cooped up on her balcony, skulking in the shadows.

“What?” Rachel asked.

Liz made an effort to smooth her expression. “Nothing. Just… wishing he were here.”

“I take it Zander looks like Max, since he doesn’t much resemble your baby pictures.”

“His eyes are definitely Max’s,” Liz agreed. “As for the rest, well, you know Max and his sister were adopted, so there aren’t any baby pictures of him around.”

“I’d forgotten that.” Rachel’s eyes narrowed as Liz yawned. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you turn in?”

Liz smiled sleepily and nodded. “Thanks,” she said.

“You’re welcome, honey. I’ll see you in the morning.”

***

Liz fell asleep almost immediately, thanks to her levels of fatigue. However, she spent a restless night, haunted by dreams that were a combination of visions of the future and twisted conjurings from her own imagination. When she woke early the next morning, she felt groggy and unrested.

Hoping to clear her head, she slathered Zander with sunscreen and headed down to the beach soon after breakfast. The extreme heat of the day had yet to build, so it was fairly comfortable walking along the stretch of sand, the waves lapping at her bare feet. Content in his carrier, Zander lay his head against her chest and took in the scenery as they passed, his dark eyes watchful. Liz smiled when a gentle breeze ruffled his hair, making him scrunch up his small face.

“Does that tickle?” she asked, teasing his cheek with the tip of her finger.

Watching Zander’s reactions to the world proved a good distraction, but not quite enough to make her forget the silent cell phone in her shorts pocket. She knew it was still early in Roswell, and that Max wouldn’t call unless he had news, but neither fact made waiting any easier. This was the part she hated – the feeling of helpless that came from being two thousand miles away and utterly isolated from what was going on back home. It had been bad enough during the few months that winter, when she had been ignorant of the alien crises in Roswell until after the fact. But now, knowing exactly what Max and the others were up against, yet unable to be there and support them… she felt lost. Leaving Max behind in January had hurt, but at least they had been at odds. This time they were allies, and walking away had been nearly unbearable. Her fear for him and the others – her need to hold him and convince herself of his safety – tugged at her heart and made it difficult to breathe.

Walking slowly back toward her aunt’s house, Liz wrapped her arms around Zander and nuzzled the top of this head. Only his warm body pressed against her – this tiny, precious person that relied on her for everything – reminded her that what she was doing in Florida was just as vital and important as what Max was doing back in Roswell. Each of them had their duty, and as hard as it had been to let Max go just when they were finding each other again, this was her responsibility. To keep their son safe, no matter what happened.

By the time Liz returned to the house, Zander was sleeping heavily against her chest. She took him back to the room and laid him in the crib, checking to make sure the air conditioner was not too drafty. Satisfied, she grabbed the baby monitor and headed into the living room.

With Rachel in her office, Liz had the rest of the house to herself, and it suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea what to do. At home when she had a few spare minutes there was a list of things she needed to accomplish, but here she was free as a bird; no picking up shifts at the Crashdown, no rushing to buy diapers, no overflowing mountain of laundry to catch up on. Granted, that was the idea of taking a vacation, even with an infant, but when she had originally conceived of this trip the point had been to go with Max.

She wandered aimlessly from room to room, eyeing her aunt’s overstuffed bookshelves and the neat stack of magazines on the coffee table. That morning’s Miami Herald still lay untouched in the entry, along with the previous day’s mail and the spare house keys. Nothing appealed to her. It seemed pointless to try to curl up with a novel or to turn on some mindless daytime television program when she knew she would never be able to concentrate. Her body may have flown to Florida, she thought with a sigh, but clearly she had left the rest of her home in Roswell.

***

The day dragged. Fortunately, Zander’s nap proved to be short and Liz was able to spend some more time with him, but once he fell asleep again, the afternoon went into slow motion. She curled up on the couch and stared out at the beach, watching the surf rise and the waves crash onto the sand. The sun slipped behind the clouds and the sky grew dark until a crash of thunder heralded the arrival of a summer storm. The rain came hard and fast, then tapered off just as quickly, leaving a pale rainbow in its wake. Liz knew it would be even hotter and more humid outside now, and was glad she had taken Zander out early.

When her cell phone finally rang, Liz nearly fell off the couch in her haste to answer. However, even as she fumbled to flip the phone open, she could see that the caller was not Max, but his mother.

“Mrs. Evans?” she asked.

“Liz, hi. How are you, dear?”

“Um, fine,” Liz replied slowly. “Is something wrong?”

“I hope not,” came the worried reply. “It seems I forgot to pack up Zander’s black bear when Max took him home the other day. I’ve got it here now. Is he okay without it? I know he’s been sleeping with it lately.”

Liz let out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. “Yeah, you know, he hasn’t even missed it. Don’t worry.”

“You’re sure? Because I can just overnight it to you if there’s a problem.”

Liz smiled at the woman’s thoughtfulness. “I’m positive. Really, he’s fine. But thank you for offering.”

“Well, that’s good. I wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise, you know. I just hated to think of the poor thing crying his eyes out,” she sighed. “Is Max there?”

Liz started. “Max?”

“Yes. I originally tried calling him, but he seems to have his cell phone off,” she said, sounding vaguely annoyed. “I left two messages but he never called back.”

“Oh, well, Max took Zander down to the beach,” Liz said quickly, thankful that the weather had cleared and there was so rumble of thunder to prove her a liar. “He probably left his phone on his dresser,” she added. “I can have him call you when he gets in.”

“No hurry,” Mrs. Evans said. “But I would like to talk to him at some point. Thanks, dear. You enjoy your vacation, all right? You certainly deserve it.”

“Thank you,” Liz replied. “And thanks again for calling.”

“My pleasure. After all, what’s a grandma for?”

As soon as she hung up, Liz swiftly keyed in the speed dial for Max’s phone, even though she knew he would not answer. When the automated cue came, she left a brief message urging him to call home and letting him know what she had told his mother. Then, fingers trembling, she called Maria. Liz was less than comfortable with the fact that Max had failed to return his mother’s calls. It was possible he was simply in the middle of something and it had been inconvenient to check his voice mail, but there were other possibilities that made her mouth dry and her heart rate speed up, and she had no way of knowing what was true.

Maria picked up after the fourth ring, and it was only then that Liz remembered she had been scheduled to work.

“Liz, babe, bad time,” Maria hissed. “The restaurant’s mobbed and Agnes called in sick. I really can’t talk.”

“Okay, okay,” Liz said. “Just, do you know what’s up with Max? His mother’s been leaving him messages and he hasn’t called her.”

“I’m sorry, Lizzie, but I haven’t seen him today,” Maria replied, her tone regretful. “I think he’s on stakeout duty with Kyle. You want me to check with Spaceboy? He and Isabel have been planted in the front booth since we opened.”

“Um, just tell them what’s up, all right?” Liz replied, chewing on her bottom lip.

“I’m sure Max is just doing the whole radio silence bit.” In the background, Liz heard someone yelling for Maria. “Shit, that’s my order. I’ve gotta go, Liz. I’ll pass on the message. And don’t worry, I’m sure everything’s fine. It’s been pretty quiet so far.”

“Okay, thanks,” she breathed. “Bye.”

“Bye. Try to have some fun,” Maria advised.

Liz hung up and tossed the phone onto the coffee table with a frustrated sigh. “Right. Fun,” she muttered. Leaning back on the couch, she let her head rest on a fluffy cushion and closed her eyes.

“Something you feel like sharing?”

Her eyes snapped back open and she swiveled to find her aunt standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised.

“What do you mean?” Liz asked.

Rachel shrugged as she walked into the room and took a seat next to Liz. “How about we start with why Max’s mother is calling here looking for him? And why you’re worried enough about his not returning calls to be trying to track him down.” She pinned her with a pointed stare. “You’ve been acting out of character for an entire year, and everything seems to come back to Max Evans. What on earth is going on, Liz?”

*****

TBC

Disclaimer: This part contains a selection of quotes from various episodes of Roswell. I trust you will recognize them and realize I take no credit for those portions of the dialogue.

Em


******

Part 34

******

Liz turned away from Rachel and stared out the sliding glass door. Drops of rain water dripped rhythmically from the awning, puddling on the flagstones beyond. The beach was deserted except for a few seagulls hopping along the wet sand.

“Honey, whatever it is, you can tell me,” her aunt prompted gently.

“No, I can’t,” Liz sighed.

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Either. Both,” she said, shaking her head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I don’t want to lie to you. Just… don’t push me on this, please.”

“Now you’re scaring me. What the hell is Max mixed up in, Liz?”

Rising from the couch, Liz began to pace. “Don’t do that,” she said. “Don’t… put this all on him. It’s not his fault.” She stopped short at the door, pressing her palms to the glass.

“What’s not his fault?” Rachel had followed and was standing just behind her. “Liz, I love you and I want to respect your privacy, but I can’t just stand here and do nothing if you’re in some sort of trouble. Tell me what’s going on.” She placed a hand on her shoulder and Liz flinched. “Liz. Honey, why did Max stay in Roswell? What’s happening that he didn’t want his parents to know about?”

She exhaled slowly, racking her brain for something that would make sense. “Remember how I told you Max was adopted?” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“He and Isabel were six when they were found wandering out in the desert,” she continued. “Abandoned by the side of the road, with no memory of who they were or where they came from, or even of how to speak.”

“Oh my God,” Rachel said. “I had no idea. Who does that to a child?”

Liz caught her bottom lip between her teeth, the image of those lost children fresh in her memory. “What Max is taking care of – it has to do with who he was before the Evanses adopted him.”

“You mean something to do with his birth parents? Surely he’s not looking for them, after they left him that way. Did they suddenly show up?”

“Not exactly,” Liz hedged. “Look, I can’t say anymore. It’s not my secret to tell. Please let it go.”

“I suppose that explains his reluctance to inform his parents, but it still doesn’t tell me why you’re so edgy. Do you think he’s in some sort of physical danger? Or are you just concerned for him emotionally?”

“Rachel, enough,” Liz snapped. “I’ve told you all I can. It was more than I should have. Stop it.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. “Fine,” her aunt agreed finally, her tone cool. “But when Max arrives, I’m going to expect some more answers. I love having you and Zander here, Liz, but I won’t be used simply as a place to hide whenever you feel the need to run away.”

Feeling a pang of remorse, Liz spun on her heel, but her aunt was already walking away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to herself. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the glass, feeling its smooth surface beneath her fingertips, wishing she were home.

***

Liz’s nerves were frayed to the limit before the phone finally rang an hour later, and then it was Isabel’s name flashing at her from the caller I.D. She snapped open the phone even as she slipped out the side door to ensure some privacy.

“Isabel? What’s going on?”

“It’s Michael,” came the low reply. “I’m using Iz’s phone. Everything’s fine so far,” he added hastily.

Liz frowned. “Michael? I can barely hear you. Where are you?”

“I’m in the café and your dad keeps hovering,” he muttered. “I think he’s starting to wonder why Isabel and I have set down roots in this damn booth. Any more coffee and I’m going to turn into Juan Valdez.”

“Where’s Max? Has he called his mother?”

“He and Kyle are following Rath and Lonnie. Kyle spotted them out at the Lift-off gas station a couple of hours ago and they’ve been trailing them ever since.”

Liz’s stomach did a slow roll. She knew this was the ultimate purpose of the entire exercise, but she couldn’t help but be scared. “What about Max’s mother?”

“He can’t make any calls yet,” Michael replied. “They’re staying pretty close and he can’t risk being overheard. Maria’s shift ends in a couple of hours and then she and Valenti are going to swap out with Max and Kyle. He’ll call back then, okay?”

“Wait, Maria is going to follow Rath and Lonnie?” Liz sputtered.

“Yes,” came the terse reply.

“And you’re okay with that?” Liz pressed carefully.

“Not really, but since when did that matter?” he mumbled. “Look, Valenti’s gonna be with her, and it’s strictly surveillance. If the gruesome twosome makes a move, they’ll call for backup. It’ll be fine. No worse than when we were trailing those Feds last year.” There was some fumbling sounds, then Michael was back, slightly louder. “Look, I better go. We need this line open. Max’ll call you later.”

“Okay. Thanks, Michael.”

“Right. Take it easy. Say hi to the shrimp for me.” And then he was gone.

Liz flipped her phone closed and slipped back into the house. She had forgotten to take the baby monitor with her, and now she could hear small fussing sounds coming from the speaker. Still musing over what Michael had told her, she headed to her room where she found Zander lying on his back in the crib, reaching for her.

“Did you hear me coming, munchkin?” she murmured, scooping him up. “How’s my little guy, huh?” She bounced him gently as he snuggled against her shoulder. “Uncle Michael said hi,” she whispered, kissing his smooth cheek. “Never thought he’d turn into such a big softie over you. Don’t tell him I told you that, though. He’d just deny it and get grumpy.”

Once Zander was fed and changed, Liz carried him out into the living room. Rachel had reappeared and was seated on the couch, flipping though the latest issue of Psychology Today. She glanced up, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. “Nothing but trashy articles this month,” she declared.

Liz sat down with the baby on her lap, angling him toward her aunt. “You gonna say hi?” she prompted Zander. “Give Aunt Rachel a wave,” she said, nudging his arm.

“Aaah,” Zander said, pumping both hands up and down. “Ah. Ahh ahh.”

Rachel’s lips curved into a smile. “God, he’s just the cutest thing. You wanna come sit on my lap, little guy?” She reached out and Zander leaned forward with a grin. “Boy, you are one major flirt, aren’t you?” she pronounced as she lifted him into her arms. “Hey there.”

“Aaahh,” Zander replied seriously, curling his fingers around the collar of her shirt.

“You don’t say?” Rachel grinned at him, then brushed a kiss over his forehead.

“Aaah.” One small hand tangled in Rachel’s hair, and when she pulled back she found she was stuck.

“Okay, let go Zander,” Liz said, reaching out and gently tugging the long auburn strands free of his chubby fingers. “No pulling out Aunt Rachel’s hair.”

“I take it he likes to do that,” Rachel chuckled.

“Yeah,” Liz sighed. “It’s a wonder I’m not bald. I swear, Max has to give him lessons in moderating his obsessions.” When Rachel slanted her a questioning look, she felt herself blush. “Um… Zander’s fascination with my hair is an inherited trait. Only, Max leaves it attached to my head.”

Rachel smiled. “So, I’m guessing by your tone that you got some reassuring news?”

Not wanting to get into it again, Liz merely nodded. “What are we doing for dinner tonight? Can I help?”

Rachel’s eyebrows arched at her obvious change of subject. “I was just going to throw together a salad to go with the leftover chicken. That okay?”

“Sure,” Liz agreed. “I’ll go make it if you don’t mind watching Zander.”

“Of course. It’ll give us some bonding time. Right, shorty?” Lifting the baby so he was poised on her knee, she bent down and blew a raspberry against his pajama-clad stomach. Zander giggled in response, his dark eyes bright.

***

Dinner was quiet, interrupted only by a brief call from Max. Once again, Liz slipped outside to avoid being overheard. She needn’t have worried. Unlike his mother, Max was well aware of her inability to speak freely. Unfortunately, that made for a less than satisfactory discussion. As grateful as Liz was to hear from him, the brevity of the conversation and the knowledge of what Max was doing left her nerves on edge.

“You okay?” he asked in a gentle, low tone. He had just finished telling her about following Rath and Lonnie over the course of the morning. Maria and Valenti had relieved him only a few minutes earlier, maintaining the watch in the parking lot of the Tumbleweed Motel so Max and Kyle could take a break.

“Yeah, I’m… fine.” She winced at the slight tremor in her voice. Part of her wanted to tell him everything – how her aunt was asking questions, that she was almost too frightened to breathe – but there was no point in giving him more things to worry over.

“Liz?”

“Really. I am,” she whispered. “Just take care of yourself.”

“I probably won’t get a chance to call you again before tomorrow evening.”

“Are you getting any sleep at all?” she asked, knowing he planned to spend another night on her balcony.

“Michael took over for part of last night so I could catch a few hours. I’m okay. With any luck this won’t last much longer. They spent most of today scoping out the town. I’m hoping they make a move soon.”

“Be careful.”

“I will. Kiss Zander for me,” he murmured. “See you soon.”

“Okay. Bye.”

When she returned to the table, Liz found her appetite had vanished, all hunger replaced by an ever-tightening knot in her stomach. She picked listlessly at her food, managing a few bites to stave off any questions from her aunt. Still, she was aware of Rachel watching her, a slight frown furrowing her brow.

Finally, Rachel set down her fork and took a sip of her wine. “I’m not going to ask,” she said, staring at the golden liquid in her glass as she swirled it around. “You’ve made it clear you aren’t prepared to hand out explanations, though it’s equally obvious that whatever is going on has you worried out of your mind,” she sighed. “Just promise you’ll come to me if there’s any way I can help, Liz. Will you do that much?”

She nodded briefly, a lump in her throat. “Thanks,” she managed to whisper.

Rachel shook her head. “Please don’t make me regret this.”

“I’ll try.”

***

“…do you mind missing the movie?” she whispered in a breathless attempt to hold onto her sanity. His mouth covered hers the moment the words were out, another drugging kiss that made thought nearly impossible.

“I heard it got bad reviews,” he murmured back, lips trailing across her cheek, up behind her ear.

Firm hands on her back pulled her closer, and she wrapped her arms around his neck in encouragement. Darkness enveloped them, the Jeep and Buckley Point beyond fading into the background as they pressed their bodies together. Liz closed her eyes and lost herself in their kisses – that searing point of contact where their tongues twined and their lips teased over and over again.

When the flashes began, she froze at the barren, gray wasteland flooding her thoughts. Pain. Despair. Hatred. She pulled back, eyes wide, only to find herself straddling Max’s lap in the front seat of a convertible, parked by the side of the highway in broad daylight. Gone were the cozy, dark confines of the Jeep, the familiar warmth in Max’s eyes. The creature staring up at her might have worn Max Evans’s features, but his heart was as cold and inhuman as any she had ever known.

“What is it?” he asked.

She shook her head and slid back into her seat. “Nothing,” she breathed.

The scene shifted and she found herself standing in the hall at school, hard lips pressed against her own, strange fingers threaded through her hair, the taste of metal flooding her mouth. She pushed against the chest in front of her, wrenching her mouth away from Michael’s. But not Michael’s, she reminded herself, even as she squealed and shivered. Rath. This was Rath. And in her head she heard Michael’s voice ringing. “…you better get better window locks…”

She turned and ran, fled down the empty hallway that seemed to lengthen and narrow, closing in on her as she pumped her legs as fast as she could. The light dimmed and suddenly she was clutching Max’s hand, dragging him through the darkness in search of someplace to hide. Behind her he stumbled, falling to his knees, and she turned back to help him up, knowing his time spent at Pierce’s hands had left him weakened – broken – though he would never admit it.

But instead of a boy of seventeen, it was a man she helped to rise. Clad in leather, his hair reaching nearly to his shoulders, his face lined with fatigue, he tightened his grip on her fingers and fought his way to his feet. “Keep going,” he barked. “We have to get inside before they catch up.”

Facing forward, she continued to run toward the entrance to the pod chamber, every breath she drew torture to her straining lungs. Behind her, Max’s heavy steps kept time with her own until they reached the sheer rock face, behind which lay the Granilith, and their salvation. With a wave of his hand, Max triggered the door, and they half-fell into the darkened cavern.

Liz went first, crawling through the empty pod that led to the hidden second chamber. Once she was clear, she staggered to her feet, only to find herself in her bedroom, with Max climbing through the window behind her. She whirled to face him, her long hair fanning out over her shoulders.

“Just give me one good reason, Liz,” he demanded, his youthful features set with determination. “Why can’t you go to the concert with me?”

“Because we’re not together, Max,” she said. “We’re not a couple. How many times—”

“But that’s not a reason,” he pressed. “Not a real one.” He threw the tickets he had been holding down on her desk, the act one of misery and frustration. “Why do you keep pushing me away? I know you don’t want to.”

Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head slowly. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” she whispered. “You have a duty, Max. A destiny—”

“Fuck destiny!” he snarled. “When are you going to understand that I don’t care about any of that?”

“You have to care,” she said, turning so she wouldn’t have to see the pain in his eyes. “Your people are depending on you. And Tess.”

“Tess,” he muttered. “You walking away from me is never going to make me want to be with her, Liz. I’d sooner go steady with Kyle Valenti.”

His statement startled her so much that the laugh escaped before she knew what had happened. Then his hands were on her shoulders, so loving and gentle, turning her and forcing her to meet his gaze. The frustration and longing were still there, but another emotion had pushed its way to the foreground. Whatever he was about to tell her, Max was deadly serious.

“Remember that night in the van?” he whispered. “You told me you wished we could go back—so you could stop me from saving your life.”

Breath held, Liz nodded wordlessly.

“I could never regret that day, Liz. You’re my everything,” he murmured. “Without you, I have no life. You might as well have left me to Pierce.”

“Max, no—”

“Shhh,” he continued, pressing a finger to her lips. “Please stop running, Liz. I need you.”

She shuddered, unable to deny him any longer. Unable to deny herself. Rising on her toes, she pressed her lips to his, and the world caught fire…

…the flames leapt higher, engulfing the Crashdown. Liz trembled despite the heat of the blaze, despite the warmth of Max’s arms holding her tightly. The cold seemed to seep from the ground, penetrating her thin jeans where she knelt on the pavement, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she was sitting on hot coals; the true cold came from within, from the desperation that was clutching at her heart, flowing through her veins, even as the tears streamed down her face.

Voices echoed in her mind, one after another, making her head ache.

“…sometimes it’s harder to make a person see what’s right in front of her…”

“…I know my brother, and I know that if there’s one voice that he will hear no matter where he is, no matter what he’s doing, it’s yours…”

“…whether I die tomorrow or fifty years from now, my destiny is the same…”

“…If Max brought you back, you’re different now…”

“…everything I’ve known in my heart for the last year was a lie…”

“…seeing you at seventeen again is making it all come flooding back to me. How my stomach used to rumble every time I saw you…”

“…you had sex with someone. Unless you’re trying to convince me this is some sort of alien version of the immaculate conception…”

“…You have to do this, Liz. You have to find a way. All our lives depend on it…”

“…It all comes down to you and me. It always does. Every choice, every bend in the road, they all lead me back to you…”

“…if something does… go wrong, I need to know you and Zander are safe. That you’ll take him and run…”

She woke with a gasp, her lungs fighting for air as she jerked upright in bed. Momentarily disoriented, she sucked in a deep breath and allowed her surroundings to register: her room at her aunt’s house, moonlight seeping through the half-shut curtains; glowing red numerals on her bedside clock, 3:48 am; Zander in his crib, his nearly hysterical cries barely penetrating her cloudy mind.

“I’m coming,” she rasped, her mouth bone dry. Only as she slipped from the bed did she realize she was drenched with sweat, the sheets a tangled, wet mess as if she had been doused with a bucket of water. Her nightshirt clung to her, sticky and uncomfortable, as she hurried to pick up the baby.

“Shh,” she soothed, scooping him into her arms. “It’s okay. Mommy’s here.”

Zander’s sobs lessened slightly as he clung to her, small fingers snagging in her long, disheveled hair. He trembled in her arms and she tightened her hold, trying to reassure him with her presence. She bounced him gently as she crossed the room and sat down in the overstuffed chair in the corner, rubbing his back and nuzzling against him. His familiar weight was comforting and she cuddled him close, pressing small kisses against his flushed cheeks and temples.

“There’s my little guy,” she whispered. “It’s all right. Everything’s fine. Mommy just had some bad dreams,” she cooed, trying to keep her voice even and calming. “You’re okay now.”

His cries gradually eased into soft whimpers and he rubbed his face against her shoulder, a sure sign that he was tired. Liz continued rocking him and murmuring softly, waiting for him to go limp in her arms. It took a long time for him to finally relax into sleep, and even once he had, she remained curled on the chair with him clutched to her chest, staring into the darkness as she listened to him breathe in and out.

***

The phone woke her just past six. She scrambled to answer, her groggy brain already calculating the time difference between Florida and New Mexico. Panic bloomed as she realized it was only four am back home.

“Hello?”

“Liz? It’s Isabel. Everything’s all right,” she said in a rush.

“You wouldn’t be calling this early if it there wasn’t something wrong,” Liz bit out. “What happened?” she demanded.

“We’ve got Rath and Lonnie.”

“What do you mean, you’ve got them? And where’s Max? Why isn’t he calling?”

She could hear Isabel taking a deep breath. “Rath is dead and Lonnie’s unconscious. We’re still trying to figure out what to do with her.” There was a long pause.

Liz felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Isabel? What is it? Is Max okay?” Her voice sounded high and strained, as if it belonged to someone else.

“He’s fine. At least he was,” she replied awkwardly.

“Was? Isabel?”

Liz heard muttering through the phone, then Michael, sounding agitated. “Give me that. Liz?”

“Michael? What’s going on?”

“Nothing happened to Max. Look, it’s a long story, but basically Lonnie got into your room somehow. We found a bunch of photos on your bed, and she broke the lock on your desk. Isabel figures she tried to dream walk you to get your location.”

“Oh God,” Liz breathed. “Can she do that from so far away?”

“I didn’t think so, but Iz reminded me those freaks use their powers a lot more than we do. She could be strong enough. No way of knowing until she wakes up,” he said grimly. “What was in your desk?”

“Um…” Liz wracked her brain, forcing herself to think past the fear that had her trembling. “I don’t know. Some letters, I guess. More pictures. Notes from Max. I can’t remember.”

“Your journal?”

“No,” she said quickly. “No, I hid that. She wouldn’t have found it.”

“Was your aunt’s address in there anywhere, Liz?”

“I—yes, I think so. But so were a lot of other addresses,” she rushed on. “It wouldn’t mean anything to her, right?”

“It might. Liz, do you remember any of your dreams from tonight?” he asked, his tone urgent.

“I—I don’t know,” she replied. She sank down on the edge of the bed, her knees suddenly weak. “I was—nightmares,” she murmured. “I was having nightmares. Not just one, but—oh God, Michael.”

“Liz, listen to me,” he demanded. “You have to hold it together. What was in the nightmares? Was this future stuff?”

“Some of it.” She swallowed hard. “They were all over the place. I just thought it was the stress, but what if it was Lonnie? What if she got in and somehow directed my dreams?”

“Think carefully. Did any of them involve your aunt or going to Florida?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “The other night when Max was asking me to leave, after he’d heard from Larek. I dreamt about that.”

Michael exhaled sharply, and on the other end she heard Isabel’s quiet, “Shit.”

“Michael? Michael, where’s Max?” Liz whispered. Fear choked her, preventing her from raising her voice though deep inside she ached to scream. Zander shifted in his crib and she held her breath, trying to calm her racing heart. “Michael? I want to talk to Max.”

“Yeah, so do I,” he sighed.

“What?”

“He’s the one who chased down Lonnie,” he said. “Isabel and I went after Rath. When we headed back to check on Max, we found Lonnie knocked out in the alley, but Max had already taken off.”

“What do you mean?” Liz demanded. There was a ringing in her head, and she pressed one hand against her temple in an attempt to ease the throbbing. “Where did he go?”

“We don’t know,” he admitted.

“You don’t know?” she echoed. “Michael, he didn’t just vanish. He has to be somewhere!”

“Liz, we looked,” he bit out. “We’ve done nothing but look for almost two hours. I’m telling you, Max is gone.”

“Gone?” she questioned softly. “Or gone to New York?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. “As soon as Lonnie comes to, we’ll try to find out what Max learned, but in the meantime, if he calls you…”

“I’ll let you know,” she said. “And Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“Wake Lonnie up. Now.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, followed by a soft grunt. “I’ll see what I can do.”

*****

TBC

******

Part 35

******

By the time the next call came twenty minutes later – this time from Maria – Liz was barely maintaining her control. With each passing moment she expected to hear from Max, and each moment she didn’t made her that much more anxious. Zander woke up briefly, and she busied herself with changing his wet diaper and settling him down again. Then the cell phone rang, startling them both, and she tripped over her own feet in her haste to answer.

“Maria? Where are you? What’s happening?”

“I’m outside Michael’s apartment,” Maria replied. Her voice was low, clearly in deference to the neighbors. “He and Isabel managed to rouse Lonnie, but she’s not talking yet.”

“And still no word from Max?”

“No, but Valenti discovered a couple of smashed up cell phones in the alley where we found Lonnie. Isabel’s pretty sure one was Max’s, which would explain why he hasn’t called.”

“But that’s all you know?” Liz lifted Zander, who was starting to fuss again, and sat him on her hip. “I suppose the other phone was Lonnie’s. How badly was it damaged?”

“Total loss,” Maria said. “Valenti thought he might be able to get the last number she called, but it’s fried.”

Liz bounced Zander, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. “Well, we know she wasn’t calling Kivar, so that leaves Nicholas,” she murmured.

“We don’t know that, Lizzie.”

“What does Michael think?”

There was a long pause. “He thinks she was calling Nicholas,” she admitted finally. “But there’s no way of knowing how much she told him, or even if she got through. We don’t even know what she knows.”

“So what do I do?”

“Michael said to sit tight and he’ll call you in about an hour. He wants more time to work at Lonnie.”

“What if he doesn’t get her to tell him anything?”

“Then you take Zander and get the hell out of there.”

Liz exhaled sharply. “And go where? And what about Rachel?”

“What about her? Take her, too. If Nicholas knows where you are, it’s not safe.”

“Don’t you think I know that? God, where the hell is Max?” she murmured. She pressed her cheek against the top of Zander’s head, inhaling his familiar baby scent as he whimpered softly. She bounced him gently, trying to soothe him but knowing it was a losing proposition. “Maria, I have to go. Zander’s getting ready to start crying and—”

“Okay, okay. Look, just hang in. One of us will call you back in a little while. Love you.”

“I love you, too. Be careful.”

She hung up, setting the phone on the dresser, then took a deep breath. “Okay, little guy,” she whispered. “Mommy really needs you to go back to sleep for a little while. Come on,” she soothed, rubbing his back and brushing a kiss over his forehead. She kept her tone even and low, humming as she shifted him more securely in her arms. “Shhh,” she said when he let out a shaky sigh. “Everything’s going to be fine. Mommy will figure something out.”

Knowing he had a better chance of dropping off without her there to distract and worry him, Liz lowered Zander into the crib. She wound the key on his stuffed lamb, setting the music box playing a soft lullaby. Zander scrunched up his small face as if to cry, but all that came out was a wide yawn.

“That’s it,” she cooed, leaning over and rubbing his stomach. “That’s my little guy. Close your eyes.” His eyelashes drooped and he stared up at her sleepily, the music clearly lulling him. Liz ran a finger over one round cheek, then moved away from the crib.

She dressed quickly, pulling on shorts and a tank top, not bothering with shoes. Soft noises were coming from the kitchen, indicating that Rachel was up. Liz shoved her cell phone into her pocket, grabbed the baby monitor, and went out to meet her aunt.

Rachel was standing at the counter, her back to the kitchen door. “Morning,” she murmured sleepily. “I’m just making coffee. Want me to put on the water for that herbal tea you like?”

“Not right now, thanks,” Liz replied. “Would you mind keeping an ear out for Zander? I really need to get some air.”

Rachel turned, her eyes raking swiftly over Liz. “Did he keep you up last night? You don’t look like you slept much.”

“I guess he was a little restless.”

“Go take your walk,” Rachel agreed. “I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” Liz said sincerely. She dropped the baby monitor on the kitchen table and headed out the door.

The beach was all but deserted, the early morning joggers having already come and gone in order to get ready for the work day. A lone figure walked along on the horizon, a dog chasing back and forth across its path, but it was too far away for Liz to make out anything more. She set off along the sand, automatically tracing the route she had taken so many times before, her feet sinking rhythmically as she pushed herself forward. Always in the past she had found this soothing, the grains of sand scattering beneath her, shifting and reforming to support her arches, then filling the indentations behind her as she moved on. But today her heart seemed to race ahead, her thoughts jumbling without logical direction. Anxiety unsettled her stomach, and she felt strangely feverish, her blood seeming on the verge of boiling in her veins.

Taking a deep breath, Liz tried to make sense of the little she knew. Max had come upon Lonnie and somehow knocked her unconscious, destroying both of their cell phones in the process. That appeared a reasonable conclusion, based on the evidence at hand. Likewise, it was probably safe to assume that Lonnie was using her phone at the time of the incident, most likely to report what she had learned in Liz’s room. Nothing else would have made Max run off the way he had, without so much as a word to anyone. Perhaps he hadn’t realized that he had lost his phone, in which case he had assumed he could fill in everyone from the road.

The road to where? Liz sighed, stopping to stare out over the water. In her heart, she knew Max had headed for the airport. The only question was, where would he go from there? New York or Florida? She supposed it all depended on Lonnie – how much she had learned, and then how much of it she passed along. Liz shuddered at the thought of just what Lonnie could know. Her nightmares had been so disjointed, assuming that was all they were. It didn’t really matter. The images had run a full gamut, from her relationship with Max, to Zander’s existence, to the location of the Granolith.

“Oh God,” she whimpered, falling to her knees in the sand. She felt as if the sky was crashing down on her. All those lies, every attempt to safe-guard the future, and it had all been jeopardized in a single night.

“No, two nights,” she corrected herself bitterly. “One night to get pregnant, one night to get dream walked.”

How could she have been so foolish? What made her think she could bring a child – an alien child – into this chaos and not pay the ultimate price? Wasn’t it bad enough in that other timeline, knowing what happened to her family and friends? She had to add her son into the mix, her sweet, innocent baby, who never asked to be exposed to this insanity. And now he was destined to be a pawn, much as Max had been since he learned about his destiny, all because she had been too weak to walk away. She had rolled the dice, risked everything, and now it appeared she had lost. She had no doubt that nothing would please Kivar more than killing Max’s child. And if Nicholas got to the Granolith, they were all doomed. Instead of saving the world, she had signed its death warrant, more than a decade ahead of schedule.

Hot tears slid down her cheeks as she sat and watched the water lap at the shore. Her stomach churned, making her grateful that she had not paused for breakfast before leaving the house. A tiny voice in the corner of her brain reminded her that she could not fall apart, that she did not have the luxury of time to wallow in her misery, but it was easier to let the waves of panic swamp her, drowning the voice and all of its logic. She was exhausted and alone, with no idea what to do next. Even if she were to take Zander and run, she had no idea where to go. There is no safe. The thought came unbidden and she bent over, dry heaving, her cheeks aflame.

She barely heard her phone ring. As it was, her hands were shaking so badly that she fumbled pulling it out of her pocket, nearly dropping it in the sand. Any hope she felt died when she spotted the unfamiliar number on the caller I.D.

“Hello?”

“Liz?” Max’s concerned voice echoed through the connection.

“Max? Oh my God! Where are you? Are you all right?”

“Shhh,” he soothed. “I’m fine. I’m…port in Albuquerque…phone…flight’s in twenty…”

“What? Max, I’m losing you. I can’t hear you.” Liz’s voice inched higher.

“…to get out. Liz, do…stand? Don’t know how soon…las is…risk it. Liz?”

“Max? Max!”

Static was the only reply, followed by silence. Utterly hysterical, Liz pulled the phone from her ear and stared at the screen. Where the message should have been flashing to indicate they had been cut off – or at least the duration of the call – it was blank. A small curl of smoke escaped from the phone. When she went to flip it closed, she discovered it had melted, the tiny hinges now part of a solid mass of plastic.

Liz let the phone fall to the sand, forgotten, and stared at her palms. Fine green lines, like electrical currents, flashed over her skin, dancing from wrist to fingertip. With a low whimper, she shoved both hands down into the loose sand to hide them, then glanced quickly from right to left, eyes wide, trying to determine if anyone had seen.

Once she had assured herself that the beach remained deserted, Liz let her gaze fall to the place where her hands disappeared into the sand. The barest crackling of green was still visible, inching up over her lower arms before vanishing once more. Ever so slowly, she sat back on her heels, drawing her hands into the open. The current continued its assault, darting over her skin without obvious design. A deep shudder ran through her, shaking her very bones. The incredible heat she had felt a moment earlier had been replaced by glacial cold.

Trembling all over, Liz gingerly picked up the ruined cell phone. She stared at it for a long moment, then rose and hurled it into the water. It fell with a decided plop, sinking out of sight beneath the surface. Then she dropped to her knees once more, and began to sob.

***

Like a summer storm, the tears came and went, leaving Liz feeling rung out and limp, but somehow more calm. She took a moment to pull herself together as best she could before she rose and headed back toward the house, trying to instill her footsteps with a determination she did not feel. Falling apart was simply not an option. Fortunately, her hands appeared normal again, the skin smooth and unmarked by green static, but she couldn’t help but twine them behind her as she slipped through the door to the kitchen.

Rachel sat at the small wooden table, feeding Zander a bottle. She glanced up briefly when Liz entered, the majority of her attention focused on the baby in her arms. Zander opened his eyes sleepily, but he merely glanced at Liz before settling once more, his long lashes resting against his cheeks.

“He was hungry,” Rachel said, by way of explanation. “I hope you don’t mind.” She smiled down at the baby, stroking his plump hand.

“Of course not. I’m sorry I was gone so long.”

“You weren’t. He just didn’t feel like waiting, I guess. Did you?” she cooed at Zander. “Would you like him?” she asked, moving to rise.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Liz assured her. “I’ll just go clean up.” Her eyes flickered to the kitchen phone and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, recalling her own destroyed cell phone. Then she spotted an oven mitt lying on the counter. Checking to make sure Rachel was still occupied with Zander, she grabbed the mitt and held it in front of her body until she was safely out of view. Then, donning the mitt, Liz used her protected hand to grab the portable phone from the hallway. She headed back to her room and closed the door behind her.

“Okay,” she muttered. “This had better work.” Taking a pencil from her desk, Liz used the eraser end to dial. When the phone began to ring, she let out a brief sigh of relief.

“What?” Michael barked after only two rings.

“Michael? Did—”

“Liz? What the hell? Max called here out of his mind, sure something had happened to you. Why aren’t you answering your phone?” he demanded.

“It’s not working,” she mumbled. “Never mind that. What did Max say? I couldn’t hear a thing when he called me.”

“Yeah, well, that much I figured. Look, Max is on his way there, but you have to get out. Nicholas knows where you are and it’s a shorter trip from New York. Max hasn’t a prayer of beating him.”

Liz forced herself to take a deep breath. “What’s Max planning?”

Michael snorted. “I’m not sure he’s gotten that far, but he’s got two flights worth of time to come up with something. Just don’t be there to watch the show, all right? Take the shrimp and leave, Liz. Now. There’s no way to know how fast Nicholas took off to find you.”

Already doing the calculations in her head, Liz merely grunted in agreement. Even if Nicholas had taken the first flight of the day, she doubted he would land much before nine-thirty. Adding in time for him to get to her aunt’s house, she had at least a couple of hours.

“Liz? Liz!”

His sharp tone made her jump. “What is it, Michael?”

“Are you listening to me? Pack it up. Now.”

“I’m listening,” she said. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to Zander,” she swore.

“It’s not just Zander that Max is thinking about,” Michael responded. “You get that, right?”

“I know,” she whispered. “It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t sound too sure.

Liz recognized helplessness when she heard it. “You did everything you could, Michael,” she assured him. “The rest is up to us.”

“I should be the one—”

“There’s no point in your coming, too. You’d be that much further behind Max and I think we both know that this isn’t going to last that long,” she told him. “Michael, we need you there with the others.”

He sighed, as close to agreement as she would get. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Tell everyone—”

“Tell them yourself,” he interrupted gruffly. “Tomorrow.”

“Right. I will.” She exhaled slowly. “Good-bye, Michael.”

“Bye.” He hung up before she could say anything more.

Liz dropped the phone and the oven mitt onto the bed. She stood there for a moment, trembling all over, knowing her choices were narrowing rapidly. Raising her hands, she stared at her palms, at the fine tracing of veins just below the surface of her skin. Turning them over, she studied the tan she had developed over the summer, not nearly as dark as usual due to hours spent indoors with Zander. The mysterious electric currents seemed to have vanished, but for how long? She was not so naïve as to believe they were a one-time occurrence. Sooner or later, they would manifest again, and at what cost? She had melted her cell phone without any idea she was doing it. Next time things could be ten times worse. What if she were holding Zander? Or driving a car? She could kill someone. She could kill her son.

Fear sent her heart racing again and she sat abruptly on the edge of the bed. She could not risk Zander being hurt – not by Nicholas, and not by her. He was an innocent baby, and the light of her life. His safety came before anything.

Steeling herself, she stood up, knowing what she had to do. With a glance around the bright, cheerful room, she went to the closet and pulled out her tote bag. Then she began to pack.

***

Her aunt was humming softly when Liz returned to the kitchen a few minutes later. Zander lay half asleep, his cheek on Rachel’s shoulder, one small fist pressed to his chin. His eyes flickered open as Liz approached, but this time they remained that way, his intent gaze growing more alert.

“Hey,” Rachel murmured softly. “I think he’s almost out.”

“We need to talk,” Liz said, without preamble. “I need your help.”

Rachel straightened at Liz’s tone. “What happened?”

“Nothing, yet. But it’s going to, and soon. I need to ask you for a favor.”

Glancing at the baby in her arms, then back at Liz, Rachel frowned. “I think maybe I should put him down first.”

Liz nodded impatiently, then waited as her aunt carried Zander out of the room. He whimpered in protest, but she blocked the sound from her mind, knowing she could ill afford to be open to his need for comfort. Too much hung in the balance.

When Rachel returned, her expression was unreadable, but Liz knew she must have seen the packed tote bag on the bed.

“So, what’s this favor?” Rachel asked, her tone brusque.

“I want you to take Zander and leave.”

Rachel had been about to sit down, but at Liz’s words she paused, one hand clutching the back of her chair. “You what?”

“I need you to take Zander and get out of here. I’ve packed his things. There’s some formula, diapers, clothes. All we need to do is fold down his crib and throw some of your things in a bag and you can go.”

“Go where? And why? Liz, what the hell is going on?” she demanded.

Liz knew it was time to give her aunt more information, but time was precious and she feared saying too much, knowing it would lead to even longer, more complex explanations. Still, she owed Rachel the truth, especially now that she was asking her to put herself in danger. She had no intention of asking her aunt to do this unaware.

“You’d better sit,” Liz said, taking a seat herself. She waited for Rachel to comply, then let out a long breath. “This is really complicated, and it’s going to sound crazy, but I need you to believe me,” she said, working to maintain a calm façade.

“Just tell me.”

“Okay.” Twisting her hands together in her lap in an effort to keep from fidgeting, Liz tried to determine where to begin. “Two years ago, I was working in the Crashdown and there was a shooting.”

“I remember. Your mother called, hysterical over how close you were to getting hurt.”

“I did get hurt,” Liz said. “I was shot in the stomach, two inches below my ribs.”

Rachel frowned. “What? But—”

“Please, just let me get through this. If you ask questions at every turn, we’ll never finish, and I’m a little short on time here.”

Rachel looked as if she wanted to press the issue, but simply nodded.

“Thank you. Okay. Um, I was shot – dying, actually – and lying on the floor of the café, and Max Evans came up beside me. He kneeled down and pressed his hands to the wound and… healed me.” Liz noted the expression of disbelief and annoyance creep over her aunt’s face, but she pressed on. “He took a bottle of ketchup and broke it over the front of my dress, and he begged me not to say anything. So I pretended I was fine, that I had just slipped and spilled the ketchup, and that nothing more had happened. I lied for Max, because he asked me to, and because I didn’t really know what he had done.”

Taking another deep breath, Liz continued. “I’ve been lying, in one way or another, for the last two years. To protect Max. Because he’s not from around here, Rachel, he’s from another planet.”

Rachel burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Liz, what is this? Some sort of joke?”

Liz simply shook her head and waited for her aunt to calm down.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Rachel asked finally, her frown returning.

“Perfectly serious. Now, please let me finish, because I can only spare a few more minutes.” As swiftly as she could, Liz ran through the events of the past two years, touching briefly on the Special Unit and the message from the orbs before moving on to tell her about the summit and Nicholas. Finally, she explained what had really happened to Alex, knowing it was important to convince her aunt of the seriousness of the situation. This was life or death, and Rachel needed to understand that.

“Now that Nicholas knows about Zander, and where to find us, he’ll be hell bent on coming after us. He will kill my son without a second’s hesitation,” Liz said, unable to keep her voice from breaking. “That’s why I need you to take Zander and leave. It’s not safe for him to stay here.”

Rachel took a deep breath. She looked shaken, and Liz could only hope it was because of the gravity of what she had just heard, and not because she was convinced her niece had lost her mind.

“Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that I believe you,” she said. “Why send the baby off with me? You said Michael told you to take Zander and leave, but you’re talking as if you plan to stay.”

“Someone has to be here. If you’re the one to stay, Nicholas will torture you for information and then simply kill you,” Liz said baldly.

“And he won’t torture and kill you?” her aunt shot back. “Why does anyone have to stay?”

“Nicholas won’t kill me,” Liz replied firmly. “He needs me. With Zander gone, he’ll hold onto me for leverage and wait for Max. That’ll give you plenty of time to get far away. If Nicholas arrives and finds the house empty, he’ll try to come after us, and failing that, disappear until the next time. We can’t afford a next time, Rachel. I won’t live my life waiting for the other shoe to drop. Someone has to keep Nicholas here until Max arrives. It’s the only way.”

“Liz, you’re talking about being tortured like it’s nothing!”

A faint shudder ran down her spine and she forced herself to sit straighter, despite the rapid fluttering of her heart and the beads of perspiration dotting her forehead. “I’m not stupid, but there’s no other option. There’s nothing left for me to tell him, anyway. He’ll figure it out soon enough. And then Max will be here.”

“You said that Nicholas will use you as leverage against Max, and you’re basically handing yourself to him. How can you imagine this will work?”

“I don’t know, but it will. I have faith in Max. And whatever else happens, I won’t be ‘handing myself’ to Nicholas,” she added, setting her jaw.

Rachel’s brows rose skeptically. “If he’s a tenth as strong as you’ve indicated, I can’t see you having any other choice. Wouldn’t it be better to just leave with me and the baby? I understand your wanting to end things, but this seems reckless. Someone is going to get hurt.”

“Someone always gets hurt,” she murmured. “As long as that someone isn’t Zander, nothing else matters.”

“What would Max tell you to do?”

“Leave,” Liz replied. “He’s already said as much. But he doesn’t have all the facts.”

“What facts? This Nicholas is coming to kill you and your child. That seems pretty clear cut to me,” Rachel snapped.

“Not quite,” Liz whispered. She raised her hands above the table, revealing the green current that once again danced over her skin.

Rachel gasped and jerked back from the table, knocking her chair to the floor. There was no longer any question of her believing her niece’s story. “Oh my God, Liz. What on earth—”

“Not earth,” Liz corrected. “There’s nothing earthly about any of this. When Max healed me, he changed me, Rachel. I don’t know how, but I’m—different. I have no control over it,” she said, flipping her hands back and forth. “This morning I melted my cell phone into a useless hunk of plastic. Right now, I’m dangerous – just as dangerous as Nicholas – because I have no idea what I might do. Take my baby and leave, Rachel. I’m begging you. Get out of here. Before it’s too late.”

Rachel tore her gaze from Liz’s hands with obvious effort, and looked her in the eyes. “I’ll go,” she whispered. “I’ll take him to—”

“No!” Liz shouted. “Don’t tell me where you’re going,” she continued, her voice dropping to a low murmur. “I—just don’t tell me. Get in the car and drive, at least a half day’s distance. Take your cell phone. I’ll call when it’s safe to come back.”

Rachel nodded slowly. “Liz, I—”

“We’re out of time.”

“Okay. I’ll go pack.” With a last look, her aunt left the room.

Liz exhaled slowly and dropped her hands to her lap. The green static seemed to abate, making her wonder if it was tuned to the level of her anxiety. She took another deep, cleansing breath and made an effort to relax, watching her palms. The current eased slightly more.

When her hands seemed nearly normal, Liz grabbed a pen and pad from the table and scribbled Michael’s and Isabel’s phone numbers, with just their initials next to them. She started to tear the sheet off, then thought better of it. Instead, she took the entire pad and headed for her room.

Zander was lying awake in his crib, his cheeks flushed from crying. She tucked the pad of paper into the bag with his things, then leaned over and carefully picked him up, keeping a close watch on her hands.

“I’m sorry, little one,” she whispered as he burrowed his face into the crook of her neck, his fingers twining in her hair. “Mommy’s sorry for everything.” Tears pricked at her eyes as she held him, rocking him in her arms.

Rachel emerged from her room a few minutes later with a carry-on and her purse. “I’m all set.”

“Do you have cash?” Liz asked. “Enough for a hotel room?”

“I think so, why?”

“Just try not to use a credit card today if you can help it.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “You really think that’s necessary?”

Liz shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.” She cuddled the baby closer. “If you don’t hear from me in three days, I want you to call one of the two numbers in Zander’s bag. Isabel or Michael.”

“I—okay,” she agreed hoarsely. “But why not Max?”

“They’ll know if Max is all right,” Liz replied. “And if you can’t get a hold of either one of them…”

Rachel tilted her head. “What? If I can’t, then what?”

Liz avoided her gaze. “Then don’t call anyone else in Roswell. It won’t be safe. I hate to ask this Rachel, but if it comes to it, would you keep Zander?” She swallowed hard and forced herself to look at her aunt.

Rachel’s eyes were filled with tears. “Yeah,” she whispered.

Liz nodded. “Thanks.” She didn’t realize she was tightening her hold until Zander started to squirm. “You’d better get going.” Shouldering the baby’s tote, she headed out to the car.

***

Rachel barely cleared the end of the drive before Liz ran back inside and began to prepare. Her personal experience with Nicholas had been minimal, but she knew enough from what Max and the others had recounted to understand that much depended on her making a show of power. Nicholas clearly had little patience with cowardice or stupidity. She might not be able to defeat him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t vie for his respect. If he considered her a somewhat worthy opponent, it might buy her a little time. And time was all she could really hope for, given the situation.

She went through the rooms systematically, locking every door and window, putting away anything fragile or of value, and opening the curtains wide. Sunlight streamed over the floors and brightened the house. She stored the kitchen knives in the cupboard, with the exception of a large carving knife that she tucked between the mattress and box spring of her bed. Next she tied her hair back and shoved her feet into a pair of sturdy sneakers. She removed her earrings, the chain around her neck, and even her watch, not wanting to risk them catching on anything and slowing her down if she suddenly needed to run.

With nothing left to do, Liz circled through the house one last time, ending up in the living room. One corner at the end of the couch remained hidden from both the windows and the doorway, and that was where she chose to sit. She sank down onto the hardwood floor, tucking her feet up beneath her as comfortably as she could. Leaning against the arm of the couch, she settled down to wait for Nicholas.

The shadows in the room lengthened slowly as the sun shifted across the floor. Liz tried to keep her thoughts from roaming, not wanting to be caught off guard. Still, she was not always successful, her anxiety for Zander and her aunt weighing heavily on her mind, as well as her fear for Max. And for herself. Despite her earlier bravado, she was terrified by the idea of facing off with Nicholas, and only the thought of him hurting Max or Zander frightened her more. Realistically, she understood that Nicholas was going to mind rape her, and her scant comfort was the knowledge that there was nothing left for him to learn beyond what Lonnie had taken from her nightmares. She even took a certain amount of pleasure in that fact, though she had no doubt she would suffer for it.

Since the living room clock had a beautiful glass dome, Liz had stored it in the closet for safe keeping. Therefore she had no idea what time it was when she heard the soft click of the side door. The sunlight streaming into the house had flickered briefly a few minutes before – she supposed thanks to Nicholas circling the property to assess the situation. With the opening of the door, however, there was no longer any doubt. Someone had come into the house without benefit of a key, and it was far too early for it to be Max.

Straining her ears, Liz thought she could hear the quiet footfall of a light individual moving slowly across the kitchen floor. Or was it merely her imagination? The sound was too slight for her to be certain. For all she knew, Nicholas was walking silently in the opposite direction. It was tempting to close her eyes to focus on the noise, but she couldn’t risk it. Instead she sat stock still and struggled to breathe without so much as ruffling the air.

Suddenly she heard something rattle on the other side of the house, near her room. She leaned forward a few inches and peered around the corner of the couch. The sound ended abruptly, but she could see nothing. She eased up onto her knees and crawled toward the coffee table, staying low so she was hidden behind the couch cushions. A crash sounded, again on the far end of the house, but this time slightly closer. Liz flattened herself on the floor, pressing her palms against the smooth wood in an attempt to detect any vibrations.

She never heard him. All she felt was an abrupt weight against the center of her back and a pinch at the nape of her neck. And then everything went black.

*****

TBC

Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season! Sorry for the delay with this, but I was home visiting my parents, and there's really no getting stuff done when I'm there. Anyway, here's the update. Happy New Year!


Em

***

Part 36

***

“Wakey, wakey.”

Something tugged sharply at Liz’s hair, forcing her swimming back to consciousness. Slowly she became aware of a steady pounding in her temples and a faint sense of nausea. Her neck and shoulders were stiff, her arms twisted painfully behind her, and when she tried to move she realized that her wrists were tightly bound. She opened her eyes to find the world spinning. Her stomach lurched.

Eventually the room righted itself, and Liz discovered she was lying on her side on the living room floor, her ankles tied to one leg of the couch. Faint light streamed through the sliding glass door and the sun approached the horizon, indicating that it was nearly dusk.

“It’s about time. I didn’t hit you that hard, you know.” Two sneakered feet lowered to the floor a few inches away from her nose and someone rose from the couch behind her. Liz didn’t need to look to know it was Nicholas.

“Up you go,” he continued. Bending over, he grabbed hold of the rope that tied her wrists and used it to haul her into a sitting position. Liz groaned as her arms wrenched in their sockets. Her hair fell loosely over her face, making her wonder where her hair tie had disappeared to, and then rough fingers were pushing it back out of the way.

Nicholas loomed above her, his deceptively youthful face a study in concentration. He frowned as he sat back on his heels. “I have to admit, I’m not sure what to make of you. Never would have figured Max for the two-timing type,” he mused.

Liz glared up at him, refusing to be baited. The last thing she wanted was to engage in banter with this pint-sized psychopath.

“Oh, I get it. Tess was the spit fire and you’re the little mouse,” he smirked. “Did you do whatever Maxy boy wanted? Bend to his every whim?” he continued, his eyes narrowing. Reaching out, he traced a finger along Liz’s jaw line, and she jerked away.

Nicholas laughed. “Maybe not so meek and mild after all, huh?” He leaned in, his breath hot on her face. One hand speared into the hair at the nape of her neck, pinning her in place, while the other cupped her breast roughly. “Are you a hell cat beneath that good-girl demeanor? Is that what Max demanded? What got him off?”

Liz pressed back into the couch and closed her eyes, fear causing her heart to pound so loudly she was certain Nicholas could hear it. Revulsion swept through her, making her stomach churn. What would he do, she wondered, if she threw up on him? Then his hands were gone and she felt a rustle in the air as he shifted away. Opening her eyes, she found him sitting back again, regarding her with a curious expression on his face.

“I can’t say I’m surprised that Tess kept this to herself. It must have galled her, knowing Max wanted you.” One eyebrow crept upward. “Bet she went orbital when you got pregnant. Max’s heir, borne by his human whore,” he sneered. “Stupid bitch. Bred to be his queen, and she couldn’t even keep him in her bed.”

It was on the tip of Liz’s tongue to tell him Max had never been in Tess’s bed, but she swallowed the words down. He must have noticed, however, because the smirk returned.

“Go ahead,” he told her. “Let it out. Speak your mind. I’ll have all your secrets soon enough,” he added suggestively. This time when he reached for her, he cupped her face between his palms. The gesture was so reminiscent of the way Max would hold her before kissing her that Liz shuddered.

“I don’t have anything to say,” she bit out defiantly, lifting her head against the press of his hands, the move more a distraction for herself than a show of bravado.

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” he whispered, leaning in and staring into her eyes. Shifting his hands, he threaded his fingers through her hair and pressed the heels of his palms against her temples. “For instance, where is this brat of yours? Hmm?” His grip tightened. “I’m going to find him sooner or later, so you might as well make it easy on yourself.”

Liz remained stubbornly silent, though she knew it would only prolong the inevitable. Her one consolation was that she had no idea where Zander was; Rachel could have gone anywhere.

Nicholas tilted his head to one side and studied her for a moment. “Interesting,” he said. “Well, have it your way. Let me know when you’ve reconsidered,” he added with a sly smile.

The pressure was faint to start, a cold, insidious touch at the corners of her mind. Liz shut her eyes and tried to let her thoughts go blank, but that only made Nicholas laugh and redouble his efforts. His fingers bore into her skull, almost as if he had breached her outer defenses and slipped his hands inside of her. Liz half expected to feel her brains leaking out onto the floor, so intense was the pain. Jaw clenched, teeth grinding together, she fought against the urge to scream as Nicholas rifled through her memories like so much debris. A small cry slipped from her unbidden and Nicholas instantly released her.

Liz slumped forward, unable to hold her head upright. She gasped for air, the throbbing in her skull making her woozy. The thin polished floor boards danced before her eyes as tears dripped down her cheeks. She had no way of knowing what Nicholas had seen – how much he knew – but the fact that he had stopped the mind rape was small comfort.

“You’re strong for a human, even one with latent abilities,” Nicholas said grudgingly. “And rather surprisingly loyal. No wonder Max chose you over Tess,” he added with a snort. “But don’t think you’ve saved your son simply by shipping him off.” With a palm to her forehead, he pushed her head back so she was looking at him. When their eyes met, his expression was merciless. “I will find him. Just as I found you.” His gaze flickered toward the glass door and beyond it to the beach. “And there’s nothing Max Evans can do to stop me.”

Liz felt her heart stutter. It was late enough that Max had probably reached Florida. Was he there even now, skulking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to make his move? Had Nicholas somehow spotted him? Liz watched him rise and pace to the window then back across the floor. For all of his self-confidence, he seemed restless. Nervous, even. There had to be some way she could use that to her advantage.

Her head still pounding, Liz took slow, deep breaths, trying to clear her muddled brain. She knew she had to focus, but her thoughts kept wandering. What was Max doing? Did Nicholas have a plan? How far had her aunt gone? What would her parents do if she never came home? Would Zander remember her if she were gone? Fears flooded her mind, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. Part of her understood she had to try to get loose, that she was no good to Max or anyone else if she remained tied there on the floor. But the ropes were tight and she couldn’t think of any way to get free. The knife she had hidden was all the way in her room, assuming Nicholas hadn’t already located it.

Nicholas’s voice broke through her jumbled thoughts. “You up to another round?” he asked smugly, crouching in front of her again. He reached forward, and Liz pulled back instinctively, moaning in protest. She could not evade him, however, and once more his small, strong hands were pressed against the sides of her head. Resigned to the pain, Liz let her eyes flutter closed.

“Now, now,” Nicholas whispered, a mere breath from her face. “I won’t do any permanent damage. At least not yet. Wouldn’t do to have you a babbling idiot when Max arrives. He might not be as cooperative. Besides,” he continued, leaning in even closer so the words echoed in Liz’s ears, “I’ve always found a spunky woman rather appealing.”

Anger, hot and heavy, flickered to life deep in Liz’s stomach and burned through her veins. She would not sit passively and wait for Nicholas to use her against Max, nor would she allow him to steal her thoughts again without a fight. That had never been her intention. Snapping her eyes open, she watched, removed from herself, as he nuzzled against the side of her neck, one hand straying from her temple down over her collar bone to the full curve of her breast. She said nothing when he plucked at the faint rise of her nipple, nor when he pinched the peak between thumb and forefinger with sadistic glee. Milk leaked from the tip, dampening her shirt. Nicholas chuckled.

“How would Max react, I wonder?” he murmured. “If he came in and found you with me between your legs? Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time he caught you with another man, would it?” he questioned slyly. “But then this would be different. Real.” His hand continued down toward her thigh, his fingers brushing over the crotch of her shorts.

Liz shuddered, swallowing hard. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she bit out before she thought twice. “Nothing you do here could ever be real.”

Nicholas pulled back, his eyes sparking. “Is that what you think?” he snarled. “And here I was beginning to think you might have a brain. You’ll do whatever I ask, and it’ll be real enough.” Grabbing her chin, he forced her to face her. “You’d jump off a cliff to save your precious Max, wouldn’t you?” he spat out, his tone almost envious. He released her abruptly and rose to his feet. “I’m going to make sure the house is still secure, but I can hear you in here, so don’t get any bright ideas. You wouldn’t want to make me angry, after all,” he added with a grin.

She stared at him, taking in the arrogant stance, the cruel gleam in his eyes, all so incongruous given his child-like shell. “Does it really make a difference?” she asked evenly. “You’re going to kill me either way.”

The slap came so quickly that her head snapped to the side before she registered his hand connecting with her face. Then red hot fire bloomed within her cheek and she closed her eyes against the burst of pain.

“All a matter of degrees,” Nicholas said. “Remember that.”

Liz remained perfectly still, her uninjured cheek pressed against the front of the couch, and listened as Nicholas thumped out of the room. She was getting to him, if only slightly. Of course, whether she survived the taunting was another matter. Taking a deep breath, she let it out bit by shaky bit. Her face burned where he struck her, but it was nothing compared to the fiery fury racing through her veins. It was time to act.

She remembered how Nicholas had fooled her earlier with his ability to move silently through the house, but he no longer seemed interested in stealth. Liz could hear him muttering to himself as he checked each room, banging doors and rattling locks. Using her shoulder for leverage, she pushed away from the couch, wincing as the movement jarred her face. She wiggled over the smooth floor until her bound ankles stopped her progress, then held her wrists away from her back as far as she could. She began to concentrate, focusing on the anger that churned in the pit of her stomach, recalling Nicholas’s every threat and disparaging remark. She coaxed her ire, letting it swell and take control, feeling her temperature rise in direct proportion to her temper.

Her fingers began to tingle. Liz directed all of her mental energy toward her hands, at the same time trying to wrench her wrists apart. She pulled at the ropes that bound her, imagining them fraying until they snapped. Heart pounding, sweat coating her forehead, she struggled to free herself, all the time replaying Nicholas’s taunts in her mind. She imagined what he had planned for her, for Max, for Zander once he found him, and her anguish ratcheted up another notch.

The small spark came so suddenly that she nearly cried out. A hint of flame licked at her wrists and she gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain as she pulled quickly at the smoking ropes. The instant she was free, she grabbed for the throw on the back of the couch and used it to smother the nascent fire before it had a chance to spread. There was no time to register the damage to her wrists. Sight blurred with unshed tears, she struggled to undo the ropes around her ankles. Her hands were clumsy and stiff, the skin on her lower arms painfully singed, but she managed to free herself nonetheless.

Liz paused for a precious couple of seconds, her ears tuned to Nicholas’s mumbling on the far side of the house. She slipped off her sneakers and scrambled to her feet, moving as quietly as she could. Her best chance was to get out, onto the now-darkened beach. She unlocked the glass door and eased it open, every sound seeming to echo through the silent room. The air outside was oppressive, humid and heavy, clinging to her skin and filling her lungs with murky soup. It seemed to settle over her as she snuck around the side of the house and headed onto the wide expanse of sand.

The moment she was clear, she took off at a run. Behind her she became aware of a shuffling sound, followed by Nicholas swearing loudly. Something crashed – a deck chair toppling over? – and then a soft grunt floated to her. But she kept going, eyes forward, not willing to risk turning to see if she was being pursued. She would know soon enough.

The sand shifted beneath her feet as she pounded down the beach. The ground felt unsteady but she forced herself to keep going. Her wrists burned as if still aflame, the salty night air an added irritation. Suddenly something hit her in the shoulder and she went down, falling hard to her knees, the sand like gravel beneath her. She struggled to her feet, slipping dizzily before she was able to steady herself and push on. Pounding filled her ears. Her shoulder ached now, as well as her wrists, and her knees felt scraped and tender, but fear kept her moving. The beach widened in front of her, the houses that dotted the shoreline now farther from the water and from each other. Sand stretched endlessly into the darkness. She ran, not caring what lay ahead, intent only on escape.

Another grunt came from behind her, louder and filled with pain. A whizzing sound met her ears and she braced herself, but instead of the impact of another blast, she felt nothing. Then a familiar voice muttered a blistering oath and Liz’s knees gave out with relief. She sank onto the sand, wincing as her bruised skin protested. Shifting to a sitting position, she finally risked a glance back the way she had come.

Max and Nicholas rolled over the ground, hands locked, expressions fierce. Power sparked between them, green static shimmering over their bodies and providing a scant amount of light. Beyond them, smoke rose from a deep indentation in the sand.

“Liz. Get. Back,” Max ground out.

She obeyed automatically, using her heels to scoot herself a few feet farther away, but then strength gave way to pain and she collapsed on her side, utterly exhausted.

“There’s no place for her to run,” Nicholas sneered, pressing Max back into the sand. “No place far enough.”

Max shifted his weight abruptly, sending Nicholas sprawling. He managed one quick blast, which Nicholas blocked, before they were once more locked hand to hand. “You won’t ever touch her,” Max snarled. “Never again.” A pulse of power emphasized his words, making the air around them glow and Nicholas grunt.

Liz lay panting, trying to catch her breath. Sand clung to her wounds, making them burn, and her heart felt ready to explode. Each time she inhaled, something pulled painfully in her chest. She tried to focus on Max and Nicholas – to see what was happening – but it was too dark. Words floated to her in angry, disjointed bursts, and she realized she was close to losing consciousness.

“…think I would let you get away with this? We’re talking about my family… couldn’t just leave me alone?”

“Kivar doesn’t give a damn about your pathetic life,” Nicholas said. “You’re a threat, no matter how uninterested you claim to be… double for your bastard… point in being merciful? …nothing to gain.”

Their voices grew softer, more distant. In a panic, Liz summoned all her strength and, using her elbow, levered herself up. She blinked, concentrating on the spot where Max and Nicholas had just been, but they were gone. A quiet moan on her left drew her gaze and she strained to make out two figures at the water’s edge.

They were standing now, still locked in combat. As Liz watched, Max pressed Nicholas back several steps, only to have the shorter alien drive him back in the opposite direction. The threads of green emanating from their hands told her they were using their powers, and it was obvious that Nicholas’s strength was overriding any advantage Max’s greater stature afforded him. She could almost feel the energy building, like static in the air. Nicholas advanced on Max again, a dozen steps this time, and Max stumbled under the onslaught, falling to his knees.

“NO!” Liz screamed, as Nicholas’s hands slipped from Max’s grip and he pulled back one glowing fist. The word barely escaped her lips before she was overcome by a violent coughing fit, doubling over as her lungs heaved. When she raised her head a moment later, Max lay half on his back, his shield the only thing protecting him from Nicholas’s blasts.

“Max,” she whispered, too short of breath to say anything more. Her hands clenched against the sand and she struggled to push herself to her feet, only to collapse to her knees.

“I’d stay there if I were you,” Nicholas shouted, his free hand reaching in her direction even as he kept his eyes and his aim on Max. The blast of energy flew at her before she could move, hitting her squarely in the chest and knocking her flat.

“Stop!” she heard Max scream, but she could not see his reaction. Her eyes slid shut, blocking the few stars that had winked into view above her. Pain radiated through her torso, while her limbs went numb. She gasped for air, the rasping in her chest the only sound filling her ears. Light exploded behind her eyelids, like fireworks or dynamite going off, each burst bright and jarring, making the ground rock beneath her.

Liz had no sense of time. She continued to breathe, in and out, each lungful of air a small victory. Gradually, the explosions of light slowed, then ceased. The beach stilled. She began to grow cold, fine tremors running over her body. Feeling returned slowly to her fingers, the sand rough against her skin. The searing pain in her chest eased slightly. Then suddenly water splashed over her, like an unexpected shower, raining down before stopping just as abruptly. Her wounds stung where they had been doused, and the icy shock of it made her shudder and open her eyes.

It was still dark, the inky black sky marked only by a few constellations and the blinking red light of a passing jet, high above. Silence greeted her on every side, and fear blossomed anew. Where were Max and Nicholas? Surely if they were still fighting she should be able to hear them. And if they weren’t—she would not think what that might mean.

The harsh pressure in her chest doubled the moment she stirred. Ignoring it as best she could, Liz pushed herself up inch by inch until she sat awkwardly, supported by both hands. Her eyes focused slowly, then widened when she realized there was no one else around. The beach appeared deserted, neither Max nor Nicholas visible. Her heart stuttered at the thought that Max might be lying somewhere, unconscious or worse, masked by the darkness. But then where had Nicholas gone? She knew better than to think he would simply leave her there for dead. Not with Zander still unaccounted for and Kivar’s orders in effect.

Groaning with the effort, Liz attempted to rise, but she was just too weak. Her feet slipped out from under her and she landed hard on her rear, the jolt sending bolts of pain through her body. Tears leaked from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She had never felt so alone, even when she was lying to Max. What was she going to do?

She turned stared at the water, frowning as she registered the distance. The nearest waves lapped several yards from her feet, too far away for her to have gotten splashed. Gingerly, she ran a finger over her forearm where she had gotten wet a few moments earlier, then licked her fingertip. Salty. Not the salt of perspiration, but sea salt. The water that roused her had come from the ocean.

A horrifying thought struck her. Max and Nicholas had vanished. What if they had…? “Max!” she screamed, suddenly combing the water’s surface for any sign of life. “Max! Where are you?”

Adrenaline surged through her body and Liz managed to struggle to her feet. Staggering like a drunk after a weekend bender, she stumbled toward the water, calling Max’s name. She wove dangerously, nearly falling several times, sheer stubbornness keeping her upright. Once she reached the wet sand, it was easier to maintain her balance. She stopped, foam beneath her toes, and stared dumbly at the vast expanse of water before her. Endless to the right and left, and on toward the horizon. She scanned back and forth, her eyes burning with the strain, her muscles aching with the effort of standing.

And then she saw it. A slight ripple in the water back toward her aunt’s house. Was something floating there? She took a shaky step. Then another one. All the while watching the surface of the water, praying it wasn’t her imagination. Praying it wasn’t Nicholas. Knowing if it was, she wouldn’t survive it.

The ripple became a head, bobbing in and out of the water, rising and falling with slow, measured strokes. An arm separated itself from the black depths, pulling with the tide. Liz continued her progress along the shore, each step requiring thought and effort, as the figure in the water moved steadily closer to the beach. Then the head rose from the waves, and Max was staggering out of the water and toward Liz. Without the buoyant ocean to support him, he stumbled to his knees, continuing forward on all fours, dragging himself over the sand.

“Max!” She half fell the last few feet, landing hard against him so they tumbled into a heap.

“Liz,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a rasp. He rolled to his side, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of panic and relief as he wove one warm, wet hand into her hair. “Are you all right? How badly did he hurt you?” The questions were whispered, his exhaustion overtaking him.

“I’m okay,” she said, her own voice just as weak. She raised a trembling hand to his face. A gash marred his forehead and blood mixed with salt water, dripping over his temple. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you kill Nicholas?”

“I don’t know.”

A sliver of fear chased down her spine. “Where is he?”

Max dropped onto his back, his hand falling away. A second later, the other hand groped for her, his fingers threading with her own. “I don’t know,” he said wearily. “We were in the water, fighting. Everything was churning around us. Then I lost him somewhere in the dark. Did you see him come out of the water?”

“No. Just you.”

He turned his head toward her. “Liz, where’s Zander?”

“With Rachel. I... I made her run.”

“Thank God,” he murmured. He tipped his face so their foreheads were pressed together. For a moment they simply lay there, taking comfort in each other’s touch. Finally he shifted, looking her in the eyes. “Tell me the truth. How badly hurt are you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered tiredly, letting her eyes slip shut. His fingers squeezed hers, and she returned the pressure. When he squeezed again, she opened her eyes and met his worried gaze. Even in the scant light, his concern shone brightly. “Later,” she sighed. “You’re hurt, too.”

“Let me ease you,” he said gently. “I don’t have the energy to heal you completely, but I can at least start. Your breathing sounds off.”

“My lungs hurt,” she admitted.

He rolled stiffly onto his side once more, his eyes boring into hers. “Try to relax.”

The connection was instant, Max’s warmth swamping her and making her feel secure. His love washed over her and Liz felt the burning in her chest lessen. Her injured shoulder tingled, then stopped throbbing, and the pain in her wrists became less severe.

“Better?” he asked, letting his head fall back.

“Yeah,” she said, taking a deep breath. It was such a relief to get enough air. “Much.”

“Good,” Max murmured weakly, eyes drifting shut.

“Max? Max, are you okay?”

“I’ll survive. But you may need to help me get up,” he added with a wry smile.

“I knew you were in no shape to heal me,” she scolded, fear taking hold of her again. “What can I do? What hurts?”

“Everything,” he mumbled. “Are you feeling strong enough to get me out of here? I’d really rather not stick around,” he added, opening his eyes again. “We put on quite a light show earlier. No telling who saw.”

Liz caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded. That part of the beach was fairly deserted, with only a few houses high up above the water’s edge, but that didn’t mean no one had been watching. Two men with sparking green hands would have been something of a spectacle.

“Let’s go,” she agreed. Sitting up carefully, she slipped an arm around Max’s back and helped lever him to his feet. He winced and leaned on her heavily, but other than that he made no protest. They limped slowly down the beach, back toward the house.

“Do you know where your aunt took Zander?” he asked as they walked.

“No. I—thought it better. But she has her cell phone. We can call her and tell her everything’s okay.”

Max stiffened. “Maybe we should wait.”

“But I thought—”

“We don’t really know what happened,” he pointed out gently.

Liz was about to protest, then realized he was right.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I want him back, too.”

“I know. How long?”

“Let’s see how things look in the morning.”

***

The sliding glass door to the living room stood wide open, Nicholas clearly not having bothered to close it behind him. Liz maneuvered Max inside and started toward the couch.

“Not here,” he said.

“Where?”

“I’d just as soon not have to get up again once I’m down,” he explained, sounding sheepish. “Is there a bed I can use? I just need to sleep for a few hours, to heal.”

Liz shifted toward the hall and helped him to her bedroom. The covers were in a heap on the floor – no doubt the result of Nicholas’s search while she’d been unconscious, earlier – but Max didn’t seem to notice. He sank down on the edge of the mattress, oblivious to his wet, sandy clothes. His head lolled and Liz suddenly realized just how exhausted he was.

“I’ll be right back,” she told him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, eyes already closed.

She hurried back to the living room and shut and locked the door. Then she went about closing all the curtains and checking the deadbolts. Satisfied they were as safe as was possible, she grabbed a bowl from the kitchen, then stopped in the bathroom to fill it with warm, soapy water, and to get clean towels and the first aid kit.

When she returned, Max was exactly where she had left him. She set everything on the nightstand, and moved to look at Max’s injuries. In the light of her room, she could see the cut on his head was still bleeding, and that both of his arms were marred with light burns.

“Max?”

His eyes flickered open. “Hey. Everything okay?”

She nodded, somehow reassured to know that he was coherent enough to understand what she had been doing. “I brought some water to clean you up.”

Her words seemed to jar him and he looked down at his filthy attire. “Oh, sorry,” he said, struggling to rise. “I must have trekked sand all over.”

“Sit down,” she told him, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “I’m worried about you, not the sand.”

His lips curved slightly. “Oh. Right. Sorry. I’m a little out of it.”

“Let’s get this shirt off,” she said, reaching for the hem. “Can you lift your arms?”

Instead of answering, he obediently raised his arms over his head, flinching slightly. Liz frowned and lifted the soft cloth, careful not to brush against the tender places she had noted earlier. She gasped as Max’s chest came into view. It was purple and green, bruises blooming in dark relief against his normally tan skin.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes.

“It’s not that bad,” he told her. “A couple of blasts. One in the back, I think.” He pulled the shirt from her unresisting fingers and tugged it over his head.

Liz slid past him to examine his back, shuddering at the damage Nicholas had wrought. Max’s skin was nearly black from his right shoulder down past his shoulder blade, all the way to his waistband, bits of cotton from his shirt clinging to the worst spots. More than half of his back was bruised and burnt.

“How is it you’re even conscious?” she whispered, fumbling for the first aid kit.

Max grabbed her wrist. “Stop. It’ll be fine in a few hours. I just need to rest, get my strength back.”

“At least let me put some burn cream on it.”

He smiled faintly. “Okay.”

She avoided his eyes as she worked. It was the only way to keep from crying. She put antiseptic on his cut, cream on the burns. When she was done, he took the first aid kit from her and reached for her shirt.

“I’m fine,” she protested. “You healed me, remember?”

“Just the worst of the internal damage,” he said, his mouth tight. “Liz, let me.”

She could hardly deny him. She nodded.

Max slipped her tank top up and off. She watched his reactions, the frown that deepened the lines on his forehead, the slight twitch of his mouth. Glancing down, she saw bruises on her chest and shoulder, very similar to the ones he bore. In addition, finger-shaped marks dotted the breast that Nicholas had fondled so roughly. Her eyes darted back to Max’s face, but he seemed back in control.

His hands were gentle as he rubbed cream into her stiff shoulder and the places where her ankles had been bound. He pressed kisses to her wrists where he had already healed the burns. All the while, his eyelids grew heavier, until finally Liz caught his hands to still them.

“You’re ready to drop,” she said.

“I am,” he admitted.

She reached down and pulled off his sandy sneakers, then helped him stand to remove his pants. When he was down to his boxers, she pressed him back onto the bed and urged him to stretch out. He groaned as his body relaxed into the soft mattress. But, tired and hurt as he was, his eyes remained open and fixed on her.

“What?” she asked, blushing, suddenly aware of her partial nudity.

“This is your room, isn’t it?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

“Come to bed, Liz,” he whispered. “I need to feel you next to me.”

She needed the same thing, but she was scared. “Max, I—”

“Shh,” he soothed. “Just lie in my arms. Please. I—I’ve never been as frightened as I was today. Not in my entire life.” He held out his hand.

“Okay.” She slipped off her shorts, then turned off the light and padded wordlessly around to the other side of the bed. It would have been simple to pick up her nightshirt from where it lay on the floor, but she did not. There was no need. Tonight was about solace, and how near they had come to losing each other. It was still too close for them to talk about, short of Max’s brief plea, but they both understood the narrowness of their escape.

The bed dipped lightly as she climbed in next to Max and tugged the sheet over them. He had turned to face her, and now he pulled her to his chest, cradling her in the warmth of his embrace. Their skin seemed to meld together and Liz sighed at the pleasure of Max’s touch. She knew him, recognized him, every cell in her body responding to his. This was home, this was safety. It was where she was meant to be.

“I love you,” she murmured sleepily, muscles languid and relaxed, her cheek nuzzled against him.

“I love you, too.” Warm, firm lips brushed over her temple. “Sleep.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she slept.

***

TBC

In two parts, due to length. Also, a quick word regarding rating. This goes heavily in "R" territory, so please read accordingly.


Em

***

Part 37

***

Liz awoke to a room bathed in pale gray light. As she lay curled on her side, face half buried in her pillow, the previous day's events flooded her mind, and she felt a brief stab of panic at being alone in bed before she realized that she could sense Max's presence quite near. She rolled over and found him standing by the window, staring out at the beach. Now-clean jeans hung loosely on his hips, and his bare back, though still bruised, had been healed of the more serious burns. Glancing at the clock, she discovered it was barely five a.m.

"Have you been up long?" she murmured.

Max shook his head slowly before turning and approaching the bed. "About an hour. I called Michael. Let him know we were okay for now."

Liz closed her eyes briefly as a wave of guilt rushed over her. "I can't believe we didn't think to call them earlier." She pushed herself up so she was sitting cross-legged, the sheet clutched to her breasts.

"Neither of us were exactly clear headed last night," Max replied with a wry smile. He sat down next to her, reaching out to brush her hair back off one bare shoulder. His hand was warm against her skin, yet the gentle caress sent a shiver down her spine. Max frowned. "Cold?"

She shook her head, but he still reached down and scooped up her nightshirt from the floor. With a few efficient moves, he had pulled it over her head and down to her hips. Liz found her eyes glued to his torso as the muscles stretched and tightened beneath his smooth skin, finally reaching out to run her fingers lightly over his chest. Max captured her hand in his and held it against his heart. Her gaze fluttered up to meet his.

"You're healed."

Max nodded.

"Are you all right?"

"Still a little drained," he admitted. "But not too bad, considering." His free hand settled on her shoulder - the one Nicholas had blasted the night before - and gave it a gentle squeeze. "How about you? Any pain?"

Liz took a swift mental inventory of her injuries. "I don't think so," she replied. "Some stiffness, but that'll pass."

Max's hand stroked up her neck until he was cupping her cheek, his thumb probing gently at her cheekbone. "No tenderness? What about your lungs? Take a deep breath."

She offered him an indulgent smile as she inhaled, then exhaled. "I'm fine, Max."

"But you very nearly weren't."

Her smile faded at the seriousness of his expression. "I know."

"We need to talk, Liz. I want to know everything that happened before I got here. But first, I have to go check the beach for signs of Nicholas."

"I'll come with you."

His brows drew together. "Are you sure you feel up to it?"

"No, but I'm not staying here by myself, either."

"Fair enough," he agreed. "Get some clothes on, okay?" He rose from the bed and stooped to pick up his own shirt where she had tossed it to the floor the previous night. With a wave of his hand, the wrinkles fell out of the soft fabric.

"Why couldn't that be one of my new powers?" Liz grumbled as she shoved aside the sheet and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Maybe it is," Max offered. "We don't really know what-Liz!" He grabbed for her as her knees buckled, catching her before she could fall. "Liz? What's wrong?"

"I'm all right," she assured him, clutching at his bare arms. "I just felt a little dizzy for a minute." She frowned. "I think I might be hungry."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"I-I don't really remember."

Max helped her sit back on the bed. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

She heard him banging around in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboard doors, muttering to himself. It made her smile. He returned with a tray laden with food: cereal, fruit, toast, juice, and a bottle of Gatorade.

"You're probably dehydrated, more than anything," he explained.

"There's enough here for an army," she admonished. "I hope you're planning on having some."

"Yeah, actually. Funny how I didn't have much of an appetite yesterday."

They ate in companionable silence, and Liz found herself feeling considerably less lightheaded. Once they were done, Max insisted on helping her dress. She refused help using the bathroom, however, informing him that she was not an invalid.

It was brighter by the time they set out along the sand, rosy fingers stretching along the horizon, making the water glow.

"Just stay close to me," Max murmured, as he scanned the beach for signs of life. The early hour meant that no one was about, making any sudden movements that much easier to spot.

Liz resisted the urge to take Max's hand, knowing he might need it if Nicholas made an appearance. Instead she matched her stride to his cautious one, keeping up easily as they approached the water's edge and then veered north. They walked slowly, each of them taking in the landscape, eyes peeled for anything suspicious.

The lack of wind the previous night meant the sand had shifted very little. It was easy enough to find the spot where Liz had fallen, marked by dried blood, and the burned out dip where Max had blocked Nicholas's blast, singeing the sand. Max now leaned over and erased all signs of the battle, returning the beach to its pristine condition.

"This has to be where you went into the water," Liz observed, staring at the gently lapping waves.

"Where did I come back out?"

"Toward the house. You must have drifted."

Max shook his head. "We weren't far enough out for there to be an undertow."

"Then what?" she asked, looking at him expectantly.

"We'll get into it later," he told her, his eyes still roaming the beach. He resumed his careful perusal of the shoreline, squatting occasionally to check something that caught his eye. Liz continued to follow him, unsure what she was looking for, hoping she would recognize it when she saw it.

"Max." They had finally reached the northern most part of the beach, beyond which there was no access to the public due to a new housing development in progress. "He couldn't possibly have made it this far."

Max stood scowling at the barbed wire fencing that prevented him from pursuing his search. "I wish I could be certain."

"Come on," Liz said, touching him on the arm. "Let's head back. We'll keep looking on the way."

He took her hand this time, slipping his fingers between hers, and they set out toward the house. The sun had crested the horizon and the water glowed warmly as they walked along the edge, yet Liz suspected it would be a long time before she dipped her toes in the ocean again. For all its beauty, that particular body of water had nearly swallowed Max into its depths the night before, and in all likelihood now served as Nicholas's grave. No. She could easily go the rest of her life and not miss swimming.

Max insisted on giving the house a quick check before they went inside. Even after Liz had unlocked the door, he lingered on the front step, his eyes scanning the area before he followed her into the narrow hallway.

"Isn't it possible that he's dead?" she asked finally. "We didn't see him come out of the water, and there's no sign of him emerging after we left."

Sighing, Max sank down on the couch. "I don't know, Liz. I saw him die before, remember? That didn't keep him from popping up again in New York."

"You saw Tess kill him," she reminded him. "They were working together, Max. It must have been a mind warp."

"I know, but-"

"If he was injured, he could have drowned easily enough," Liz rushed on, pacing in front of him. "Or maybe you somehow hit that place on his back and he disintegrated. That would explain why there's no sign of him."

"I'm not sure it's that easy."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I doubt Nicholas was just another Skin," he muttered wearily, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees. "Think about it, Liz. Okay, the firestorm at the school was some sort of mind warp. What about the harvest in Copper Summit? Courtney destroyed those new skins nearly a year ago, and Michael assured me Nicholas's was in that room when it blew. So why is he still walking around? Did he look any worse for wear to you?"

Liz shook her head. She dropped onto the cushion next to him and made a defeated sound. "So you think he's alive."

"I'm saying I don't know," he replied gently. "I just don't want to jump to conclusions without more proof. If he did drown, his body should wash up at some point, right?"

"Right." But she felt less secure than she had an hour earlier.

"Liz, it'll be all right." Max slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her so she was resting against him. "Talk to me. What happened yesterday? Michael said you promised to take Zander and leave, so why did you send him off with Rachel and stay here to face Nicholas?"

Tipping her head so her cheek nestled against his arm, Liz took a deep breath. "I melted my cell phone. When we were talking yesterday."

"You what?"

"I melted it. That's why we got cut off. It wasn't the reception, it was me."

She could practically hear Max frowning. "I think maybe you should start at the beginning," he suggested, his arm tightening slightly around her.

So she did. She relayed her entire day, from the sleepless night before to her panic at Max's unexplained disappearance from Roswell through the manifestation of her powers and her decision to send Rachel away with the baby while she remained behind. The hardest part was confessing that she had told Rachel about his alien origins, but Max took it surprisingly well.

"I know you would never have told her lightly," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I trust you, Liz. You know that. And you were right that she needed to know, given the circumstances. I just wish I knew how we're going to thank her for all her help. Does she have any idea how much she's risked for us?"

"Probably not. She thinks she does, but it's hard to really understand unless you've lived it."

Max pulled back and looked into her eyes. "You were really scared that you might hurt Zander?"

"I-I couldn't take the chance," she whispered. Her gaze dropped to the floor, where the throw from the couch still lay in a rumpled heap. Leaning over, she tugged it out of the way, revealing the frayed, burnt ropes that Nicholas had used to bind her wrists. She picked them up and dropped them on Max's lap. "That's what I did to get loose. It took all of my concentration just to burn through those, and I burned me in the process. How could I risk Zander that way?"

"Liz, you said yourself that it was a struggle just to burn the ropes."

"But it wasn't a struggle to melt my cell phone," she replied. "You didn't see it, Max. It was just this useless lump in my hand-" Her voice broke and she went gratefully into his waiting arms.

"Shhh," he soothed. "You were upset and frightened. Heightened emotions always affect our powers. Look at Michael," he added, sounding vaguely amused. "You just need to learn how to control it, and knowing you, it won't take very long. Okay?"

"Okay," she sniffed. "But in the meantime-"

"In the meantime I need to keep you safe so you won't have any reason to feel panicked. And maybe buy some stock in a cell phone company," he joked.

Liz couldn't help but smile. "All right," she agreed. "Now, I've shown you mine, how about you show me yours?"

"Excuse me?" he stuttered, pulling away abruptly.

Liz's smile widened to a grin at his flustered expression. "Your day, Max. Tell me what happened yesterday before you got here."

"Oh. Um, right," he said, looking chagrinned. Settling her back in his arms, he cleared his throat and began. "It started with spotting Lonnie coming down your fire escape," he told her, sounding a bit guilty. "They pulled some sort of bait and switch on us. I had spotted Rath cutting through the alley behind the Crashdown and took off after him. That must have been when Lonnie got into your room. I'm not sure how Michael and Isabel lost her, but they took over with Rath for me and I went after Lonnie instead. Clearly she was in your room long enough to do some damage, because I caught her calling Nicholas. She had already told him where you were and about Zander when I knocked the phone out of her hand."

"Max, does she know about the Granolith?"

He looked grim. "I didn't wait around to find out. I knocked her out with my powers and ran for the airport. It was only once I was on the road that I realized I'd lost my phone somewhere, and by then I didn't want to take the time to stop. I figured it would have to be enough to call both you and Michael from the airport."

He took a deep breath. "I think I set all sorts of speed records to Albuquerque," he said. "And the entire way here, I kept wishing there was a direct flight. I kept thinking how much faster Nicholas would be able to get to you from New York, and praying that there was no way for him to track you wherever you decided to go." He shuddered. "Imagine how I felt when I arrived and saw you trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey on the living room floor."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It was the only thing I could think of."

"I know," he said, holding her a little closer. "I knew something was up the minute I got here. I'd had the taxi let me off a block back, just in case Nicholas was lurking, and so I crept in from the neighbor's yard. Someone should tell him that Lab is useless as a guard dog, by the way."

"Thank goodness for you."

"Yeah. Anyway, I started off by spying over the fence and saw you had all the curtains open. I couldn't imagine you leaving the house exposed that way and just going off, and I doubted Nicholas would have done it, so I was extra careful. When I saw you there with Nicholas just lolling on the couch, keeping watch, it was all I could do to keep myself from charging through the glass door and breaking his scrawny neck, but I knew that wouldn't do any good. I started checking the perimeter of the house, hoping I could find a way to sneak inside quietly. Next thing I know, there's this clattering sound on the patio around back. I got there in time to see Nicholas tearing down the beach after you."

"What happened in the water?"

Max let out a wry laugh. "It's hard to blast someone under water. Kind of loses its punch. But that didn't keep us from trying. I swear, the ocean was glowing green around us. I can only imagine what the neighbors thought."

"Hopefully no one was watching."

"In retrospect, I realize we were fairly quiet, so unless someone happened to glance out the window, there's a good chance we're in the clear that way. Still, it was…"

"What?"

He turned to look at her. "Frightening. All that water around us, knowing that in all likelihood only one of us would walk out of it. You up on the beach, needing me."

Liz snuggled into him and squeezed his hand. "We're okay."

"I know. But it was touch and go for a while there. Then we both fired at once and the blasts somehow counteracted each other. It must be what it's like for a surfer to get caught in a huge wave. There was water flying everywhere, dragging me down and back. I actually connected with the sand under the water, and at that point we were in over our heads. I didn't see what happened to Nicholas, but I can only assume he was thrown in the opposite direction. It was all I could do to swim back to the surface and somehow get back to shore."

"Oh, Max."

"I couldn't believe it when I saw you standing there, waiting for me," he murmured hoarsely. "I wasn't even sure you were alive after that last blast."

"I wasn't too sure, either," she admitted.

"If I had waited much longer to heal you-Liz, you had a collapsed lung, a fractured collar bone, second degree burns on your shoulder…"

"Shhh," she whispered. "I don't anymore. We're both going to be fine."

Max's hand stroked up and down the length of her spine, warm and comforting. "Do you think it's too early to give Rachel a call?"

Liz sat up and stared at him, unwilling to let herself get too excited. "Just to check in? Or to tell them her to bring Zander back?"

Max's lips twitched merrily. "Does one of those calls require we wait longer?"

"Max!" she admonished, slapping at his shoulder.

"It's only fair to let your aunt know we're still in one piece," he said, catching her hand. "As for coming back, I still wish we had a better fix on whether it's safe, but I think it should be all right. Even if Nicholas is alive, he can't have escaped unscathed, and he has to heal the old fashioned way. I doubt he would try anything with all of us here."

"So I can tell her to come home?"

"Yeah, tell her."

Liz threw her arms around Max's neck and hugged him. He simply laughed and wrapped his arms around her in return. "Go ahead," he murmured, brushing a kiss against her temple.

"You want to get on the extension?"

"No, that's all right. I'll meet her soon enough."

***

Continued in next post