Roswell Fanatics

Continued from previous post

***

After she hung up, Liz sat on the edge of her bed and stared out the window. The sky was a hazy blue, with low, heavy clouds that hinted at the chance of a shower later in the day. Any other time she might have resented the weather for marring her vacation time with Max, but today it didn't matter. There could be a gale force wind outside the door, and, as long as she was safely inside and her loved ones were warm and dry, it wouldn't bother her in the least.

"Liz?" Max's soft call came from the hallway. "Everything all right?"

She turned toward him as he came into the room and immediately he rushed toward her. "What happened?" he demanded. "Why are you crying?"

Frowning, she lifted her hand to her cheek, finding it wet. "I-I don't know," she murmured. "Nothing's wrong," she assured him.

"Zander and Rachel were okay?"

She smiled and nodded. "Fine. I promise. Rachel said Zander was very brave and didn't cry, even though she got the feeling he wanted to." Her smile lessened. "She said it was as if he sensed what was going on," she finished in a whisper.

Max's panicked expression eased into one of understanding. "He's fine, Liz. That's all that's important. We'll have him back again soon."

"I know."

"How long until they get here?"

"Not until this afternoon, probably."

Max brushed a strand of hair off her face. "What do you say to a nap? We didn't get much sleep last night."

"Mmm. Sounds good."

Reaching past her, Max tugged the sheets into some semblance of order, then waved his hand over them to evaporate the sand dragged in the night before. "There. All clean," he told her. "Lie back."

Liz curled into the spring-fresh bed, shifting to make room for Max. "Come on," she said, patting the space beside her.

"You go on. I'll be just in the other room."

Liz frowned and shoved herself up with one arm. "You're not going to nap with me?"

He shook his head. "Not right now."

"Why not? You got even less rest than I did, plus you healed my injuries. You have to be exhausted."

"Actually, I'm not. I feel fine," he told her, almost wryly.

"Okay, I don't understand." She sat up more fully and stared him in the eye. "What's wrong? Why won't you lie down with me? You gave the all clear to have Zander come back, so I know you're not worried about Nicholas."

"No, not Nicholas," he sighed.

"Then what?"

"Liz, I-I do feel fine. Perfect, in fact. That's the problem."

"You're not making any sense."

"Last night, holding you while we slept-it was safe," he murmured gently. "We were both hurt and worn to the bone. But now in the light of day, without injuries to hold me back-Liz, I came so close to losing you last night. To losing any chance we might have to be together. If I lie down with you now, that's all I'm going to be able to think about. I can't guarantee that I'll stay in control."

"Oh," she whispered, feeling a warm flush rise from her neck over her face. "I see."

"Go on and take your nap," he said. "I'll-"

"Max, come lie down with me."

He froze a foot from the bed and stared at her. "Didn't you hear what I just told you?"

"Yes. But it doesn't change anything." She lay back on the pillow, hair fanned around her, and reached out a hand. "I almost lost you, too."

Slipping his hand into hers, Max sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. He stroked his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand, as if it were a good luck charm and he was praying for luck. She couldn't help but smile at his nervous expression.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Not wrong, just-are you sure? I mean, I know technically it's not your first time, but-"

"Max," she cut him off, sitting up and pressing a hand to his lips. "It is. It's our first time making love," she whispered. "That night with Future Max, it was more about loss than life. I was saying good-bye to something I thought I could never have. I was saying good-bye to you. It was an ending. This - what we have right now - is a beginning."

The fine lines of worry that had formed around his eyes eased slightly. "And you're sure this is all right? The guest room at your aunt's house? No candles or flowers or… I don't know. Violins playing?" he teased, the corners of his mouth turning up.

"I already had my mariachi band," she reminded him. "This is perfect. We're all alone, our friends and family miles away." Her smile slipped. "Unless you don't want to yet. Because if you're not ready, Max, I-"

He stopped her mouth with a kiss, his tongue demanding entrance to tangle with hers. His lips, warm and firm, coaxed her response before she could stop to think.

When the need for air forced them to part, Max smiled and nuzzled against her cheek. "I love you more than anything in the world, Liz Parker. I love your strength and sweetness, your wondrous brain and welcoming heart. You are my sun and moon and everything in between, and I would love nothing more than to make love with you today," he whispered.

She shivered as he kissed the place just behind her ear, her hands rising to hold his head in place. Arching her neck, she sighed when his lips continued to wander along her throat, nipping gently, his tongue blazing a hot trail to her collar bone. "I love you, too," she murmured. "So much, Max. I never stopped."

"I know," came the quiet reply. His head lifted and dark eyes met her own, forcing her to focus past the fire already rising in her blood. "I think I always knew, somehow, in the deepest reaches of my heart." He ruffled her hair back, catching her face in his palms. "It just took a little while for my head to catch up. I'm sorry."

"No," she whispered. "I'm the one who's sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

"It's in the past. Right now I'm only interested in the here and the now." Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers once more.

They took their time, lying in each others' arms and kissing until the need to go farther became overwhelming. Then clothes shifted a few inches at a time, with kisses and caresses marking each newly revealed bit of skin. Max touched her reverently, palming each breast in turn, supporting their rounded weight. When he leaned to take one in his mouth, however, Liz froze, gently pushing him away.

"What?" he asked, lifting his head in surprise. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I'm sorry," she blushed. "I just-I realized that I'm still-"

"Breast feeding?" he finished quietly. He cupped her breast again, running his thumb over the nipple. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"I-no, not really. I just thought you might be."

He shook his head slowly. "I love you. All of you. Just relax and let me make you feel good," he whispered.

Captivated by the heated look in his eyes, she nodded wordlessly and lay back. When he kissed her breast, his touch was feather light. His tongue snaked out and danced over her skin, leaving her trembling in its wake. By the time his mouth clamped down on her nipple, she was moaning softly in response.

After that, things began to speed up. Max helped Liz remove her remaining clothes, and then she did the same for him. Completely naked, their bodies tangled together, bumping and rubbing as their desire began to spiral out of control. Liz let her legs fall open and Max rolled between them, his arousal pressing against her soft center.

"God, please tell me you have protection," she gasped.

Max stilled above her, then pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "I have protection," he murmured breathlessly. Then he shifted off of her and reached for his jeans.

Once he was ready, he held himself poised above her and stared into her eyes. Liz felt as if she was falling into an endless well of amber, wrapped in warmth and love. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too." And then he sank into her with a quiet moan, pressing his forehead against hers.

They moved together in a steady rhythm, building with each stroke. Liz wrapped her arms and legs around Max and arched against him, only half aware of the breathy sounds that escaped from her lips each time he slid home. She was too entranced with his soft grunts and the way he murmured her name.

"Yes, more," she moaned, rocking her hips against Max's. He sped up in response, one hand slipping between them and down to where their bodies were joined. It was all Liz needed to go flying over the edge.

"Maaaaxxxx!"

"God, Liz!" He pressed into her once more, then braced himself, and she felt him shaking in her arms before he collapsed.

It was several minutes before Max moved, shifting slightly to one side to take the worst of his weight off of her. Liz tightened her arms around his neck, preventing him from going any farther.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, his voice gentle.

"Wonderful," she said softly. "Times about a million." In fact, she felt sated and sleepy, every muscle humming with happiness. Curling against him, she pressed a kiss to his bare chest. "How about you?"

"I'm not sure I have the words," he replied hoarsely. He cradled her close, then leaned over and kissed her.

After a few minutes, Max reached down and pulled the sheet over them. He smoothed Liz's hair off her face and she smiled up at him, trying to keep her eyes open. After all, he was so beautiful, and he was lying in her arms. What better way to spend her time than by staring at him adoringly?

"Maybe you should take that nap now?" he suggested with a chuckle.

Liz felt her eyelids droop and shook her head. "Not sleepy," she insisted, then yawned broadly. "Okay, maybe I am," she admitted with a laugh. "You're going to sleep with me, though, right?" One eye opened and she glared at him pointedly.

"You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

Darkness overtook her, and Liz snuggled into Max's warm embrace. "I have no intention of trying. So don't bother to ask."

***

They slept for several hours. Once they woke, they made love again, and then a third time in the shower. Finally Max suggested some food might be in order and Liz reluctantly agreed. They dressed and fixed some sandwiches, which they ate while watching the rain fall outside.

Following lunch, Liz set about putting the house back in order. With Max's help, it took less than half an hour to restore her aunt's breakables to their rightful locations. By the time they were finished, Liz found herself glancing at the clock, wondering how much longer it would take for Rachel and Zander to get back.

"Waiting won't make the time go faster," Max told her. "How about we cuddle on the couch and talk?"

"Just cuddle?" she asked archly.

Max's ears turned a rosy color, but he nodded. "I wouldn't want your aunt to walk in and find us in a compromising position."

"You're right. Just cuddling sounds nice."

The couch was just the right size for Max to stretch out and let Liz curl up against his chest. "I've missed this," he whispered in her ear. "Just the two of us, together."

"It's been a long time," she agreed quietly.

They talked for a while, mostly about Zander and the future. Liz broached the subject of telling the Evanses the truth about Max's origins, but dropped the idea just as quickly when it became clear Max was not quite ready to consider it.

"I'm not saying never," he told her. "I just can't think about it right now. Too much has happened in a short time."

"I understand." The sound of a car door slamming made her sit up. She glanced at Max.

"Do you think that's them?"

An instant later she heard a key in the lock. She was up off the couch and across the floor before Max could utter another word. Wrenching open the door, Liz threw herself at Rachel, who had Zander cradled against her shoulder.

"Oh God, I've missed you," she breathed, pulling her son to her and covering his cheeks with kisses. Then strong arms wrapped around them both and Liz felt once more wrapped in Max's warmth.

"Hey, little guy," he said softly, his voice deep with emotion. He kissed the top of his head, then pressed a kiss to Liz's cheek as well.

"Ahh," Zander said, nuzzling into Liz's neck, one small hand grasping Max's sleeve. "Da."

Liz pulled back and stared at Max, then looked down at the baby. "What did you say?"

Zander lifted his head, his dark brown eyes bright. "Da," he repeated clearly, before resting his cheek back on Liz's shoulder.

"Oh my God," she murmured. "Did you hear that?"

Max's eyes were glittering with tears. He simply nodded.

They stood there for a long moment, gazing at each other, until someone cleared their throat.

"I hate to break up the family reunion, but could I possibly come inside my house now?"

"Rachel! We're so sorry!" Liz took Max's hand and dragged him out of the doorway, letting Rachel pass. She gave her aunt a sheepish smile. "I, uh, guess we got a little carried away."

Rachel's expression softened to one of amusement. "Not surprising." She turned to Max and smiled. "So, you must be Max Evans." She held out her hand, her eyes sparkling with merriment. "It's very nice to finally meet you. Liz has told me so much about you."

Max laughed and shook Rachel's hand. "Yes, I'm sure she has."

Liz looked from her aunt, to Max, and back again. She felt something deep inside of her relax. Whatever else they had to face, this, at least, was going to be all right. "Why don't we all go sit down?" she suggested. "And talk."

"Sounds like a good idea," Max agreed. He lifted Zander easily from her, then slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Shall we?" he asked Rachel.

Rachel's assessing gaze took in Max's possessive stance, and her smile broadened. "Let's."

***

TBC

In two parts due to length.


Em

******

Part 38

******

Liz let the last customers out of the Crashdown and locked the door behind them before turning the sign in the window to read “Closed.” Stifling a yawn, she grabbed the rag she had left at the register and went to wipe down the tables.

“All set, chica?” Maria called, as she came through the swinging door from the back. She carried a bucket of soapy water and a mop.

“Yeah. God, I thought they’d never leave,” she mumbled. “Please tell me it isn’t only Monday.”

“’fraid so,” her friend replied with a sympathetic smile. “Not to mention our first full week back at school. I don’t think it’s fair how they start us out Labor Day week, with just four days. It sets up false expectations for the rest of the year.”

“You’re not helping,” Liz told her. She moved to clean the counter, slipping between two stools and rising on her toes as she applied extra pressure to a particularly stubborn stain. “I can’t believe I still have homework to do tonight,” she sighed.

“I thought your teachers were giving you some extra time with all of your assignments because of Zander?” Maria asked. She set down her load and started turning the chairs up onto the tables.

“They are, but I don’t want to take advantage of them. It’s too early in the year to start getting behind, anyway. It’s not much. Some reading. I got most of it done during my break.”

The back door swung open again and Michael emerged, looking hot and sweaty. “Grill’s scraped down,” he announced. He glanced at Liz. “When’s Max bringing the squirt home?”

“He should be here any minute,” Liz replied, her eyes darting to the clock. “I told him closing time.”

“You gonna tell him about your run in with Pam?” he asked.

“Wait, what? Pam Troy?” Maria piped in. “How did I miss this?”

“It was when you ran Brody’s dinner over,” Michael replied, his attention still focused on Liz.

She sighed. “It’s not a big deal, Maria. Pam just made some snide remarks. Nothing I’m not used to. You heard all talk at school when I showed up the first day.”

Maria frowned. “It’s not like they didn’t know you were back. I mean, half those kids were in and out of the café all summer. So, what did Miss Trash Mouth have to say this time?”

Ignoring Michael’s keen gaze, Liz folded her rag neatly and tossed it in the bin behind the counter. “I don’t even remember. Like it even matters what she thinks.”

“She referred to Zander as a little bastard,” Michael reported dully.

“What! That bitch!” Maria cried.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “If the café hadn’t been so crowded, I think I might have blasted her ass.”

“I nearly did,” Liz finally admitted quietly. “It’s a good thing Max has been working with me on controlling my powers, otherwise I might have melted something.”

“What did you say to her?” Maria asked.

Liz shrugged. “Something about how her parents were married when they had her, and that hasn’t kept her from turning into a cheap tramp.”

“Good for you,” Maria declared. “Pam Troy has no idea who she’s dealing with,” she continued, plopping another chair onto a table top for emphasis. “After all, you and Max went up against Nicholas.”

“Yeah, we did,” Liz said, her voice quiet. She caught Michael staring at her again, a slight frown furrowing his brow. When he realized she had noticed, he turned to help Maria with the chairs.

The truth was they had no idea what had happened to Nicholas. Max and Liz had remained in Florida for nearly a week, checking the news reports and the papers for any indication that a body had washed ashore in the area, but there was nothing. It had added a layer of tension to what might otherwise have been a wonderfully relaxed vacation. Max and Rachel had become fast friends, and the three of them had enjoyed taking long walks with Zander in the evenings, trolling the beach for shells and bits of sea glass. Rachel had a thousand questions for Max – about his origins, his powers, his concerns for the future – but they were clearly born of curiosity and respect and her love for Liz, and he answered them willingly, often as they strolled down the long stretch of sand. Only the knowledge that, even in the midst of these conversations, Max kept his eyes open for anything suspicious, put a damper on Liz’s pleasure in the outings.

By the time they returned to Roswell, there was a mere week left before the start of school. There had been a mad couple of days, during which Max spent a great deal of time in conference with Michael, and sometimes the rest of them, as well. An unspoken agreement seemed to exist between the two men, however. When Max asked about Lonnie, Michael merely nodded, as if to indicate some prior plan had been carried out. Liz questioned Max about it later, and he simply kissed her on the forehead and told her Lonnie would never again have the chance to betray them. A shudder ran through at his response – not due to its substance, but because she felt a wall go up within him. It was a type of barrier or protection, a toughness that she recognized from her brief encounter with that future version of Max. The wall was not meant to shield Liz, but to cut Max himself off from his own softer feelings and enable him to do what must be done. It was a hardening of him that she sensed – the start of a gradual metamorphosis into the man he would become. Both warrior and king. And it frightened her.

“So what are we doing for your birthday?” Maria asked, pulling Liz from her thoughts.

“Um… I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it,” she admitted.

“Come on, Lizzie. You’re going to be eighteen on Friday. We can’t not celebrate,” Maria admonished.

Liz shook her head. “I really don’t know yet, Maria. Max and I are both working most of the week, and there’s school and Zander and—”

“Your dad gave us all that night off, you know,” Michael interrupted. “Sounds suspiciously like party time to me.”

Liz smiled. “I don’t want it to be a big deal. Just all of us, Zander, my folks. You know. The gang.” Spotting Max approaching the front door, her smile broadened and she went to let him in. He had the baby cradled on one shoulder, fast asleep, and a tote bag hanging from the other.

“’bout time he got here,” Michael grumbled.

Liz opened the door so Max could slip inside, then shut it behind him, throwing the lock. “Hey,” she whispered, standing on tip-toe to give him a quick kiss.

“Hey yourself,” he murmured. His lips were warm as they brushed against her own.

“Has he been asleep long?”

“No. Conked out on the way over,” Max replied, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “He was yakking up a storm all evening.”

“You mean he’s learned more words?” Maria asked, a confused expression on her face.

Max let out a quiet chuckle as he moved farther into the room and set down Zander’s bag. “No,” he assured her. “It was all baby babbling, but don’t tell him that. I think he’s sure he’s speaking the same language as the rest of us.”

“Okay, Maxwell, so what’s the story with Liz’s birthday?” Michael asked. “You make plans or what?”

Max looked startled, then glanced at Liz who shrugged. She had already had the conversation, now she was interested in his take. It wouldn’t surprise her to learn he had the entire day planned out for them. In fact, she would have placed bets that he did.

“Um, well, actually, I meant to talk to Liz about it tonight,” Max admitted sheepishly.

Liz smiled, feeling a wave of love coming from him. “Really? What did you have in mind?” she asked coyly.

“I thought we could go have a nice dinner some place, just the two of us,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Your mom said she’d watch Zander.”

“And what about the rest of us?” Maria asked, tapping her foot.

Max jerked his gaze from Liz’s. “We’d come back afterwards for cake and stuff with everyone else. Is that okay?” He looked back toward Liz, brows lifting. “It’s entirely up to you. It’s your birthday, after all.”

“That sounds nice,” she told him, feeling unaccountably shy. Something was heating up in the depths of his gaze, making her warm inside. “It’ll be good to have some private time,” she added softly.

“Okay, stop right there,” Maria announced. “Other people in the room. See? Me and Michael. And believe me, we have no desire to hear about your sex life, so—”

“Maria!” Liz exclaimed, feeling her face flush. “No one said anything about sex. Get your mind out of the gutter. I just meant we haven’t had any time alone since we got back from Florida.” The fact that they hadn’t been able to make love again, either, was beside the point.

Maria arched one brow and gave her a pointed look. “I know exactly what you meant, chica.” Her gaze shifted to take in Max. “Why don’t you two take sleeping shorty upstairs. Spaceboy and I can finish up here.”

“You’re sure?” Liz asked, glancing toward Michael.

“Yeah, go,” he assured her. “He’s gonna wake up if you don’t.”

“Thanks, guys,” she told them. “Good-night.”

Max led the way, carrying Zander smoothly into the back room and up the stairs, while Liz followed with his bag. The apartment was nearly dark, with one small light burning in the hallway and a tell-tale bit of brightness creeping out from under the Parkers’ bedroom door. Liz closed her own door as Max shifted the baby in his arms and laid him in the crib. Zander stirred and let out a tiny sigh before settling peacefully.

Standing behind Max, Liz slid her arms around his waist and tucked her head into the crook of his elbow. He moved his arm to make room for her, tugging her around so he could see her, his hand slipping over her back and pulling her close.

“How was work?”

“Long,” she murmured, resting her cheek against his chest.

“And?” he prompted. “I can feel how tense you are, Liz,” he added when she peered up at him.

“Fine. Pam Troy was here shooting her mouth off,” she sighed. “I handled it.”

Max’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” she replied, poking him in the side.

“Okay, okay,” he said with a quiet laugh. “I’m sorry. I know you can take care of yourself.” His arms tightened around her, though, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. “Can I stay tonight?”

“Of course,” she agreed, burrowing into his warmth. “Just so long as you’re up before my dad.” Liz’s mother had been very supportive when they returned from Florida so obviously a couple again, but her father had been a harder sell. It would take a great deal for him to truly accept Max as a permanent part of Liz’s life, and she had no intention of making things more difficult.

“I promise,” he soothed, both hands massaging her shoulders now.

“I still have reading for tomorrow, though.”

“Me, too. We can read together in bed,” he murmured against her hair.

Liz let out a low chuckle. “Sounds cozy.”

“Doesn’t it?”

***

Liz woke when the bed shifted and Max’s warmth ceased to envelope her. “Too early,” she mumbled, snuggling under the sheet and trying to recapture the remnants of a dream that was already starting to fade.

“Shh,” Max whispered. “I’ve got him. Go ahead and sleep.”

But she couldn’t. She listened as Max tugged on his jeans and shirt, then picked up Zander, murmuring softly to him. She heard the door ease open and Max’s feather-light tread down the hall as he headed for the kitchen. All the while, she felt more and more awake, until she simply accepted that it was time to start the day.

It was just past six-thirty when Liz sat up with a yawn and got out of bed. She hopped in the shower and, taking advantage of Max’s presence, enjoyed the luxury of shampooing twice. Even so, she was already out of the tub and dried off, her hair wrapped in a towel, when she heard Max shout urgently from the other room. Her heart in her throat, she pulled on her bathrobe and ran out to see what had happened.

“What?” she called, fear making her mouth dry.

“Just come here.”

Liz found him standing in the living room, Zander in his arms, wide eyes fastened on the television. She turned to see what had him so spooked, just in time to see an airplane fly into the World Trade Center.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. She stared at the screen, unable to make sense of what she was playing out before her eyes. “How could it just—”

“That was the second one,” he said faintly. “The second plane. The first one hit a few minutes ago.”

“I don’t understand. Those buildings are huge. How could they not see—”

“It was deliberate, Liz. It’s a terrorist attack.”

She turned to look at Max. His expression was grim, his eyes dark with grief. Glancing back at the television, she watched as smoke continued to pour from the gaping holes in each of the two skyscrapers. A sudden thought struck her and her eyes darted to the clock. After seven o’clock meant past nine in New York.

“Max, it’s already the work day there,” she whispered. “Those buildings have to be full of people.”

“I know.” His hand came to rest on the small of her back. “Liz, why don’t you sit down and take Zander, okay? I’m going to run downstairs and tell your parents what’s happening. I doubt they even have the radio on yet.”

“Yeah, all right,” she agreed. She sank down on the couch and took the baby. His dark, expressive eyes stared up at her as she settled him on her lap, adjusting his bottle. One tiny hand clutched at hers and she hugged him closer.

“Liz, are you okay?”

“Fine. Just go. We’ll be right here.”

He leaned in and kissed her hard, then disappeared down the stairs, feet pounding in his haste. Liz found her gaze drawn back to the television. She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume, wincing as the broken voice of the commentator flooded the room. It made her feel only slightly better that the professionals were as shocked as they were.

A moment later her parents came into the room. Max and her mother flanked her on the couch, while her father crouched down closer to the TV, clearly unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Don’t we have some sort of advance warning system?” Liz’s mother asked. “How could no one see this coming?”

“That’s for missiles, Nancy, not commercial jets,” her husband replied. “Someone got to the pilots.”

“Or replaced them somehow,” Max suggested.

They sat in silence, listening to the various reporters, reading the scroll of information as it fed across the bottom of the screen. The phones began ringing – the apartment line, Max’s cell, then Liz’s. Maria calling to find out if they were watching the news; Isabel in tears; Jim Valenti from the Sheriff’s station, where Hanson was bringing in volunteers, suggesting businesses close for the day if it was at all possible.

Liz’s father went downstairs to hang a sign in the window and notify the morning shift that they didn’t need to come in. “We should call the school, too,” he added before he vanished into the stairwell.

“I’ll do it,” Max offered, once he’d hung up with Isabel. He tried several times, each time getting a busy signal.

“Classes are probably cancelled,” Liz’s mother said, when he threw his phone down in frustration. “There must be concerns about other targets.”

“They’ve grounded all the planes,” Liz pointed out. “And Roswell should be fine. I mean, what terrorist is going to worry about a tourist trap in the middle of nowhere?”

“A terrorist interested in taking out the air force bases,” Max said frankly. “A direct hit on Rogers might affect us.”

Liz swallowed hard. She hadn’t thought of that. “I’m going to go change Zander,” she said, suddenly anxious to get away from the television. She rose and headed for her bedroom.

Max followed, closing the door gently behind her. “Liz, it’s going to be okay,” he whispered, taking the baby from her unresisting arms. He set the bottle down and lay Zander in his crib, before pulling Liz to him. “God, you’re shaking. Shhh,” he soothed, rubbing her back.

“I can’t help it. All those people, Max. Those buildings are huge! How will they ever evacuate? And the Pentagon, too.” She pressed her cheek against him. “All this time I’ve been worried about aliens attacking us,” she whimpered. “I never thought we might end up in a war. Not like this. On our own soil. We haven’t fought on U.S. soil since the Civil War.”

“You’re forgetting Pearl Harbor,” he whispered. “Look, you’re getting all worked up for nothing. We don’t know where this is going to lead. It might be some extremist group that’s gone off the deep end.”

“Do you really believe that? Come on, Max. All those planes veering off at the exact same time? Think what kind of planning that would take. The money.”

“Some of those radicals have a lot of cash at their disposal. And even if it comes to war, it won’t be here. We’ll send troops to them, whoever they are.”

“I know, but—” She trailed off with a sniff. “Okay, you’re right. It’s too early to panic. I just… after everything we’ve been dealing with the last few weeks—it just makes this seem that much more real. Close to home, you know?”

“It’s our country. Those buildings are major sources of national pride,” he said. “Whoever did this wanted to send a message. They knew what they were doing,” he signed.

Zander started fussing in his crib. Max kissed Liz gently, then turned to take care of him. Liz sat on the edge of the bed and let him change the baby’s diaper and put him into a clean romper, trying not to remember the sight of the airliner crashing into the tower.

“Oh my God!”

Liz jumped to her feet. “Mom? What is it?” She started back into the living room, Max on her heels.

“It’s falling. The building is falling,” Liz’s mother murmured helplessly.

The three of them stood and watched as the once-majestic structure collapsed in a pile of smoke and deadly debris.

*****

Continued in next post

Continued from previous post

***

The rest of the week passed in a fog. They spent the first two days in front of the television, watching as the remaining tower toppled, followed by several of the surrounding buildings. Endless images filled their heads, of people running to escape the rush of shattered concrete, crowds leaving the city on foot, fire fighters and police men working tirelessly into the night. Reports came of bomb threats in many of the major cities, along with countless rumors and false leads regarding who was responsible for the utter devastation to the country. Everywhere, it seemed, people were mourning, whether they knew someone who had worked in the World Trade Center or not. People cried for the tragedy – and for sense of safety that had been obliterated in a matter of minutes.

School resumed, and they all went back to classes feeling subdued and unable to concentrate. Businesses reopened, but things were quieter everywhere. Families stayed home, clinging to each other, suddenly that much more aware of the importance of it all.

Liz read her text books, did her homework, waited tables in the café. The rest of the time she spent with Zander, and often Max, who found his shifts at the UFO Center cut considerably. “Brody said he’ll pay me anyway,” he told Liz, the first night he showed up at the Crashdown a full hour early. “The place is a tomb.”

“I guess it makes sense,” she said. “No one feels much like reading about alien cover-ups right now.” Traffic was down at the café, as well, but not as much. People still needed to eat, and the Crashdown had a comforting, familiar feel to many of its regular patrons.

When Liz’s birthday dawned on Friday, she was in anything but a celebratory mood. Yet the soft knock on her window shortly after she woke still put a smile on her face. Max let himself into the room, a bouquet of white roses in one hand, and a white bakery bag in the other.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He leaned over and kissed her, infusing the gentle caress of his lips with all the love in his heart. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Thank you.” She took the roses and inhaled deeply. “Mmmm. They smell wonderful.” Her nose wrinkled. “Though I don’t think that’s all rose.”

Max chuckled and held up the bag. “Croissants. I don’t know how authentic they are, but they sure smelled good.”

Liz sat up. “I’ll go get us some plates.”

“These are all for you,” he assured her, dropping the bag on the bed. “I’m afraid I can’t stay.”

“What?” Liz’s mouth curved into a pout. “But it’s my birthday. You have to stay.”

“Sorry. Too much to do. I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up for school,” he promised, planting another quick kiss on her mouth. “Mom said she’ll come get Zander before then.”

Liz grabbed him by the shirt as he tried to ease out of reach. “Not so fast, buddy. What exactly do you have to do at six-thirty in the morning?”

Max’s eyes twinkled. “It’s a surprise.” He kissed her once more, then pulled away. On his way to the window, he paused at the crib to lean over and kiss Zander as well. “See you in an hour,” he called back, and then he was gone.

The day dragged, despite a barrage of well-wishes from her friends and teachers, or maybe because of them. Liz found herself watching the clock, not so much because she was anxious for her surprise – though Max’s cat-that-ate-the-canary grin did have her curious – but because she could not wait to escape the stifling confines of the school. She felt restless and trapped, and anxious to be alone with Max, and classes just stood in her way.

“It figures that now I would turn into a horny teenager,” she muttered, as she sat in her last class of the day, staring at the clock.

“What’s that?” Max asked, leaning over from his seat across the aisle. The mischievous spark in his eye told her he knew just what she was thinking.

“Just hoping we won’t get much homework this weekend,” she replied, smiling sweetly. She could tell Max was struggling not to laugh.

When the bell finally rang, she practically leapt to her feet.

“In a hurry?” Max teased.

“Fridays are always long,” she countered.

They headed out to the Jeep together, where Max tossed both of their book bags into the back before helping Liz climb into the passenger seat.

“I miss this,” she mused, settling into her familiar spot. Most days Max had been driving his mother’s car, which had the baby seat in it.

“Really? I was thinking of trading it in,” he said. He fired up the engine and backed up smoothly.

“What? Why? I thought you loved it?”

He shrugged. “It’s gotten to be kind of inconvenient, plus I hardly drive it anymore. And it’s definitely Mom’s favorite thing to drive.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she sighed. “Still, I’ll miss it if you get something else. There’s nothing quite like an open top.” Tilting her head back, she stared up at the fluffy clouds dotting the sky.

“I could get another convertible. Just something with real seats.” He glanced over at her. “Wanna go shopping with me this weekend?”

Liz stared at him as he shifted his eyes back to the road. “You’re serious.”

“Sure.”

“Um, okay. If it’s really what you want.”

He smiled. “We’ll find something fun, but safe.”

Something about his expression warmed her heart. “Sounds like a plan.”

He dropped her at home, promising to pick her up at six.

“Wait, Max,” she called, when he was about to drive off. “What should I wear?”

“Whatever you want. Just make sure your shoes are comfortable.” With a flash of a grin, he had gone.

Mrs. Evans brought Zander over a little after four, along with a small wrapped box for Liz.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Liz told her, surprised at the gesture.

“Oh honey, we wanted to. It’s from Philip and me both. Just a little something.”

“Should I open it now?” Liz asked, glancing from Max’s mother to her own, who had settled on the couch with Zander.

“Of course! It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

Liz smiled as she carefully untied the lavender bow, then slipped the box out of its silver wrapping. She lifted the lid and felt tears prick her eyes. Settled on a nest of cotton was a small sterling locket – an oval with a rose etched on the surface.

“It’s beautiful,” Liz whispered. She lifted the delicate pendant and traced the design with the tip of her finger. “Thank you so much.”

“Open it,” her mother prodded.

Liz set down the box, then clicked open the small clasp holding the locket closed. Inside were two photos, one her own school picture from the third grade, and the other Max’s. Tears slid down Liz’s cheeks and she went to hug Mrs. Evans.

“It’s perfect.”

“Your mother gave me the photo of you,” Max’s mother said, returning her warm embrace. “I would have done baby photos, but of course we don’t have anything of Max’s that goes back that far, so I thought this would work.”

“I love it,” Liz sniffed. Over Mrs. Evans’s shoulder, she smiled tearily at her own mother. Then, pulling back, she slipped the chain over her head so the locket fell neatly between her breasts.

“It’s a little long, but we thought it best until Zander outgrows the grabbing stage,” Mrs. Evans told her. “This way you can tuck it safely into your shirt when you’re holding him.”

“Good idea,” Liz agreed, doing just that. Zander had recently developed an interest in shiny objects, and she had all but stopped wearing jewelry other than her watch.

“Okay, I really must dash,” Max’s mother said. “Liz, have a wonderful birthday evening. If I know my son, he’s planned something special.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Liz asked, surprised.

“No. No one does. Isabel’s about ready to strangle him, he’s been so secretive,” she said with a laugh. “Nancy, good to see you as always, especially this week. Everything has been so…” She sighed and shook her head.

“I know,” Liz’s mother agreed. “You and Philip should come by for breakfast over the weekend. Or maybe Sunday brunch?”

“We’d love to.”

After she had gone, Liz sat next to her mother, reaching automatically for Zander. He was nearly ready for his afternoon nap, his eyelids drooping despite all his efforts.

“Someone’s sleepy,” Liz murmured, settling him against her shoulder and rubbing his back.

“Ahh,” he declared half-heartedly, nuzzling into her neck.

“So much for missing Mommy, huh?”

Liz’s mother smiled. “It’s the sign of a contented baby that he can curl up so trustingly and just nod off. He knows he’s safe. Just wait until he’s older and the separation anxiety sets in. He’ll be calling for you soon enough.”

“Did I go through that?”

Her mother sighed. “Not so much, actually. But then I was home with you, or you were in the café with me, pretty much until you started nursery school.”

“I wish we didn’t have to shuttle him around so much. Sometimes I feel like he doesn’t know the difference. That anyone who sings and feeds him a bottle will do.”

“You know that’s not true. He knows both you and Max.” Her mother added her hand to Liz’s on Zander’s back, smiling when his eyes drifted open. “You two are doing a good job with him.”

“You really think so?” Liz asked. It was so rare that her mother offered praise out of the blue.

“I do. I know it’s been hard, especially given the ups and downs of your romantic relationship. I’m proud of how you’ve worked through it all, while still putting Zander’s needs first.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome.” She leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Happy birthday, honey.” She kissed Zander’s downy head as well, then stood up. “Let me know when you want me to come take him so you can get ready.”

***

“Wow.”

Liz couldn’t help but smile at Max’s expression when she entered the living room. He had been standing in front of the couch, arms extended above his head so that Zander was suspended in mid-air. At the soft clearing of her throat, both father and son had turned toward her, goofy faces and gurgling sounds coming to an end as Max’s eyes widened and Zander simply grinned.

“Ahh,” he declared, reaching one moist hand toward her.

“Oh no,” Max said, lowering the baby to a normal altitude. “I don’t think so, buddy. Mommy looks way too pretty for you to get your grubby fingers on her.”

“Max, stop,” she said. Taking Zander into her arms, she pressed a kiss against his chubby cheek. “You be a good boy for Grandma, okay? And maybe later I’ll let you taste some cake,” she added in a whisper.

“I heard that,” Liz’s mother said. “For goodness sake, he doesn’t even have any teeth yet, Liz!”

“I know, but a little frosting won’t kill him,” she replied, handing him over.

“All set, birthday girl?” Max asked.

“I think so.” She glanced down at the black skirt she had chosen to top with her red cardigan sweater. “Is this all right?”

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes shining. Taking her hand, he tugged her toward the door. “See you in a few hours, Mrs. Parker.”

“Have fun,” Liz’s mother replied. “Wave bye-bye,” she coaxed Zander, holding up his hand to help him.

Once in the Jeep, Max drove them straight out of town and into the desert. Liz glanced at him once or twice, but decided not to ask where they were headed. Instead she enjoyed the feel of the gentle breeze in her hair and the glorious blue sky that stretched out to the horizon. Soon enough she began to recognize the route they were taking, and her heart tightened at Max’s romantic gesture.

“You know where we are?” he asked finally, as he pulled off the highway and started over rougher terrain.

“Near the old radio tower,” she murmured. “Where we found the orb.”

“Yeah. It was also the first place we ever spent the night together,” he added shyly.

When they reached the place where they had slept out under the stars, Liz was surprised to see a number of supplies already in place. “Is this where you came this morning?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, stopping the Jeep and coming around to help her out. “I didn’t want to lug everything out here with us tonight. It’s fairly deserted, so I knew no one would disturb anything.”

Liz frowned. “What about that old Indian who warned us off that morning?”

Max’s smile wavered. “Um, that was Nasedo.”

Her feet faltered. “What?”

“I—I meant to tell you, but I by the time I found out last fall you were barely speaking to me. One thing led to another and it slipped my mind.”

“He was following us?”

Max shrugged, his gaze dropping to his feet. “I never got all the details from him.”

Liz saw the fleeting look of regret before Max looked away and felt a stab of remorse. “It isn’t important,” she assured him, stepping forward and bending her knees a little so she could look him in the eyes. “Max, this is beautiful. Really.”

He lifted his head slowly, as if unsure of her sincerity. “I should have told you.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek. “Show me what you did.”

His smile reappeared. “It’s a picnic,” he told her. “I—I thought it would be nice, out her as the sun sets.”

He had brought more than a picnic. There was a small folding table and chairs, a white cloth, and candles. From the back of the Jeep he pulled a hamper of food, which he unloaded onto the table himself, insisting that she was to do nothing. Liz grinned at his enthusiasm.

They started with fresh melon, followed by an assortment of cold meats and cheeses, spinach salad, and crusty bread. Max had brought sparkling grape juice, which they drank from plastic champagne glasses, and Liz found the bubbles tickled her nose, making her laugh.

“That’s a good sound,” Max told her, his smile one of simple contentment.

“Thank you, Max,” she whispered. “This is a wonderful birthday.”

“We’re not quite done,” he said.

“What else?”

He held up a finger. “First things first.” He stowed the leftovers in the hamper and the dirty dishes in a plastic container, tucking everything into the back of the Jeep. Then he took Liz’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come with me.”

The sun was just setting and the sky was a riot of pinks and dusky purples. Liz followed Max, her hand tucked securely in hers, to the top of a small rise in the landscape. Once there, he tugged her into his arms, her back cushioned against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Look,” he said, pointing at the glowing horizon.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” she sighed, and it was. Nature’s very own curtain call, the sun sat low in the sky, performing one final dance before darkness fell.

“Not as gorgeous as you are,” he murmured.

“Max, you can hardly compare me to a miracle like that,” she sighed.

He swiveled her so she was staring up into his eyes. “I certainly can, because you’re my miracle,” he said. Then his mouth came down over hers, lips coaxing, tongue teasing. Liz made a small sound as he swept her into the kiss, and let her eyes drift shut.

“I’m sorry this week has been so hard,” he told her, when they finally came up for air.

Liz frowned. “What are you talking about? It’s been hard for everyone, Max. Terrible things are happening. How could they not affect us?”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just that, on top of everything that’s been going on all summer, it’s just one more worry. One more reminder of how dangerous life can be. For us, more than most.” He traced a finger over her full lips, teasing the bottom one, but his tone was serious. “Here we are, fighting for our lives, trying desperately to get back to some semblance of normal, and then the entire world up ends itself.”

“That’s not your fault. And we’re hardly the only ones dealing with it,” she reminded him gently.

“Let’s go back to the Jeep,” he said suddenly. “It’s going to be dark soon, and I don’t want to end up stumbling around.”

“Okay,” she agreed, somewhat confused by his abrupt change of subject.

He took her hand again and led her to where they had parked, only instead of helping her into the passenger seat, he climbed in himself and pulled her onto his lap. Liz giggled as he arranged her comfortably, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

“Cozy?”

“Very,” she replied, snuggling against him. “But won’t everyone be wondering where we are?”

“It’s not like they can start without you,” he teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I just need a few minutes more.”

“Fine with me.” She felt so warm and safe, curled up in his arms.

“Liz, I know this past year had been impossibly difficult, but I truly believe we’ve come out this side of things stronger for it.”

“I agree,” she whispered.

“You do?” He sounded surprised.

“Of course. If we could find our way back to each other, even after everything with Tess and Alex and my getting pregnant…” She let out a deep breath. “It just means we’re meant to be together. I don’t care what you or anyone else tells me to the contrary.”

“I wasn’t going to argue the point,” he said wryly.

“Not now, maybe,” she murmured. “Just remember that.”

“Liz. Liz, look at me.”

She sat up, doing as he’d asked.

“No more changing the future,” he said solemnly. “We play the hand we’re dealt, from now on. I told you once before that I’m not God.”

“You also said you didn’t believe in Him,” she pointed out. “It’s easy to don a role if it’s all make believe.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Not this one. No matter what.”

She nodded. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she said, settling back against his chest.

He exhaled sharply. “Look, Liz, life is short. It’s a cliché, but that doesn’t make it any less true. I love you. I have… always loved you,” he whispered into her hair, one hand coming up to stroke it. “I love you, and Zander, and the family we’re making together. And I don’t ever want anything to come between us again.”

“It won’t,” she vowed.

“So, I’m asking you, Liz Parker, love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Liz felt her breath stop in her throat. She sat up slowly and stared down at Max. “Are you serious?”

“You know I am,” he said gently. “This isn’t like when I brought it up before, with charts and graphs and talk of being roommates. No wonder you said no, then,” he added, his mouth twisting briefly. “Liz, I love you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I know the rational thing is to wait, at least until after graduation, but I don’t want to put things off anymore. If this week has shown us anything, it’s that life is fragile, and there are threats out there we haven’t begun to consider. I don’t want to wait until all I have is a list of regrets,” he murmured. “We don’t have to do it now. Whenever you want. I don’t care. But say you will, please. Tell me you’ll marry me.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, yes, yes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

They sat there, entwined, for several long minutes, before Max gently pushed her away. “What?” she asked, smiling down at his disheveled hair and wet, red mouth.

Max shifted her on his lap, one hand burrowing in his pocket. “Just this,” he said, handing her a small, velvet box.

“Oh,” she whispered. “Now I am going to cry.”

“Maybe you should open it first,” he suggested. “I’m afraid it’s not very big.”

Liz snapped open the lid, revealing a glowing, marquis diamond that took her breath away. “It’s absolutely beautiful,” she murmured, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“May I?” He took the box from her trembling hand and slipped the circle of platinum onto her ring finger. “Does it fit all right?”

Liz nodded, no longer able to speak. She turned her hand, letting the diamond catch the light.

Max watched her, frowning. “You’re sure you like it? I can exchange—”

“Don’t you dare,” she told him, snatching her hand away. “I love it. You can’t have it back. You’re stuck with me, Max Evans,” she added, grinning down at him.

His arms circled her waist, pulling her close again. “I’m counting on it.”

*****

TBC

******

Epilogue

******

She was having the best dream. A deep voice murmured near her ear. “I love you. More each day, if that’s possible.” A soft breath of air drifted over her neck, followed by warm lips trailing feather-light kisses along the line of her jaw.

Liz Evans smiled and snuggled into her husband’s embrace, relishing the feel of his bare chest beneath her cheek. “We’ll be late if you keep that up,” she warned half-heartedly, already arching into the palm that smoothed down her back.

“Late for what?” he whispered. With his free hand he angled her face up, his tongue snaking out to taste her bottom lip. Then his mouth took hers in a deep, soul-searing kiss that made her toes curl beneath the sheets.

Liz shifted over Max so she could return his kiss properly. For one seemingly endless moment her mind went blank, pure sensation overriding her more conscious faculties. When she pulled back, she was caught by the heated look in his eyes and felt herself falling once more into their hypnotic depths. But something tugged at her thoughts, and she frowned.

Max matched her expression. “What?”

“Zander.”

Max’s brows arched. “We’re not picking him up from my folks until nine.” He snaked a hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, applying the gentlest pressure. “One morning we have to ourselves,” he murmured seductively. “One morning without our son hurling himself into our bed at dawn. One blessed morning without work or class or carpools. Shouldn’t we make the most of it?”

Liz let out a small sign of pleasure as his clever fingers began to massage the place where her neck met her shoulders. She crumpled over him so her hair spilled across them both in a silken wave. “That feels wonderful,” she moaned.

He worked at her tense muscles for a few minutes before his fingers began traveling south, tracing her spine and her ribs, smoothing along her sides. Liz lifted her head again so she could see him. Propping herself on an elbow, she used her free hand to brush his bangs off his face, thinking as she did that his hair was getting a bit long, yet another side effect of their busy lives. The truth was she rather liked him on the shaggy side, but he was always so meticulous about getting it cut that she never said anything for fear that he might think she was comparing him to that phantom, future version of himself.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, tracing her lips with his thumb.

She smiled faintly. “How handsome you are.”

He blinked, then chuckled. “With bed head and stubble?”

She bent down and kissed his prickly cheek. “Always.”

The mood had changed, softened. When she lay back down over him, his arms banded around her and he resumed rubbing her back in long, gentle strokes.

“Did Zander tell you what he wants for his birthday?” he asked.

“No, why? Did he say something to you?”

“Oh yes. He was very clear on the subject. He wants a house.”

Liz pushed up again and stared down at Max. “A house? You mean a play house?”

“No,” Max replied, his mouth twitching with obvious amusement. “A real house. For us to live in.”

“What gave him that idea?”

Max began to laugh. “I’m afraid it’s more of a who than a what. Apparently, his first choice was a puppy, but my dear sister explained to him that puppies tend to make puddles and so they need yards to play in. I guess he figured he’d better start out asking for the house and work his way up to the puppy part.”

Liz added her laughter to Max’s. “Oh God. The poor thing. Did he actually tell you all that?”

“No, Iz helped me figure it out. She didn’t know how to tell him that pets aren’t allowed in our apartment building.”

Flopping onto her side, Liz shook her head. “So instead she gets him going on a house. For crying out loud, we’re still in college. It’ll be years before we can afford something. Even she and Jesse are renting, and God knows he makes more than the two of us put together.”

“I know,” Max soothed. “I told Zander that maybe we should start out small and work up to a puppy.”

“Max. What did you promise him?” she sighed.

His expression smoothed out, becoming very serious. “How do you feel about turtles?” he deadpanned.

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “You’re too much.”

“Well, he’s going to be four. I thought a turtle sounded about right.”

“I suppose it’s safer than some of the other options,” she admitted. “But you need to talk to him before we get one. No practicing powers on the pets, Max. I’m not explaining to any of his playmates why my son’s turtle changes colors.”

He rocked onto his back, taking her with him. “I promise,” he said, giving her a quick kiss. “Now, Mrs. Evans. It seems we have a whole two hours before we need to get out of bed. What shall we do with the time?” With a quick flip, he had her laid out beneath him.

“Ohhh,” Liz whimpered, as he fastened his mouth to her neck. “Remind me to thank your mother for babysitting,” she breathed.

The ringing of the phone sliced through her delirium an instant later. Max groaned and rolled off of her. “I’ll get it.”

“If it’s Maria, I’m killing her. Tell her that.”

Max chuckled as he reached for the phone. “Hello?” There was a short pause before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. “No, it’s fine. What is it?”

Liz felt a fission of panic shoot down her spine. She sat up slowly, her eyes on Max. He had his back to her, and she could see the tension in his frame.

“Right. No, I’ll do it. We’ll be right there.”

“Max? What’s happened?” she demanded.

He had hung up the phone and was already reaching for his jeans. Then suddenly he sat down hard on the end of the bed.

“Max, you’re scaring me.” She crawled over the covers to his side. “Max?”

“Get dressed,” he told her, his voice barely a whisper.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” she said, grabbing him by the shoulder. He shifted toward her, unresisting, his eyes dark with agony. “Max? God, is it Zander?” she half-whispered, her heart racing.

He shook his head, his gaze darting away from hers. “There was an explosion at the Crashdown,” he replied hoarsely. “It’s on fire.”

***

Max burned rubber as he jerked the Chevelle to the side of the road, half a block from the café. The car had barely ceased to move before Liz threw open her door and took off at a run. Smoke, thick and acrid, filled the air, choking her lungs, but she ignored it. Bright orange police barriers cut the street in half, detouring traffic onto Citrus, and she slowed just enough to slip between them as she careened around the corner. Behind her, Max was less agile, and she heard a soft grunt accompanied by a crash as he sent one of the barriers toppling.

Two fire engines were parked in front of the Crashdown, but they did little to mask Liz’s view of the restaurant. She staggered to a stop in the middle of the street, stinging eyes turned upward as she stared at the devastation. The supporting walls to the right and rear of the building were the only things still standing; everything else had been gutted by the explosion and ensuing fire. Bricks and plaster had been thrown as far as the hardware store down the block. All along the street, windows were broken, cars smashed by debris. Even now, flames licked at the store adjoining the café, the fire fighters still struggling to control the blaze. Somewhere amid the destruction, a beam shifted and crashed noisily to the ground, prompting a loud cry from the onlookers. It looked like a war zone.

Liz began to tremble. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. Her knees buckled and she went sliding toward the ground.

Strong hands caught her by the elbows, catching her before she hit the pavement. “Liz. Liz, look at me.” Max’s determined voice cut through the buzzing in her head. “Liz!” He lifted and turned her, his hands moving to her shoulders and giving her a little shake.

“Max,” she whimpered, ready to collapse against his chest. She could not believe it was happening again – that her worst nightmares had blazed to life.

“Liz,” Max repeated. “It’s all right. Liz, look.” He shook her again before cupping her chin and forcibly turning her head.

Past the fire trucks and the rescue workers, the hoses and the debris, was an ambulance. Her parents sat side by side on a stretcher, her father holding an oxygen mask to his face while a paramedic shone a light in her mother’s eyes. A few feet away, wrapped in a blanket and covered in soot, doing his best to disengage from a second paramedic, stood Michael.

A wave of relief made Liz light headed, and Max’s firm grip was the only thing that kept her on her feet. “Thank God,” she murmured. “Oh, thank God.”

Max wrapped an arm around her shoulders, continuing to support her with his other hand. “It’s okay,” he whispered against her hair, hugging her close. “Come on.”

He helped her walk over to the ambulance where she immediately launched herself into her father’s arms.

“I was so scared,” she said, reaching out to pull her mother into a shared embrace.

“We’re fine, honey,” her father assured her. “No one got hurt, thanks to Michael.”

Max glanced at his friend, who had finally scowled sufficiently to convince the paramedic that his condition was not life threatening. “What happened?” he asked in a low voice.

Michael’s expression did not change. “Maria and I had a fight, so I got to work early, just as the place went up.” He nodded toward the Parkers. “Got them out through Liz’s old bedroom before the fire spread too badly.”

“He’s being modest,” Liz’s mother said quietly. “We never would have made it if he hadn’t managed to eliminate some of the flames.”

Michael shrugged. “We were coming down the fire escape when the second explosion took out the side wall. The blast threw us clear, but we were all knocked out for a while. One of the firefighters dug us out of the back alley about five minutes ago.”

“Thank you, Michael,” Liz said, her voice choked with emotion.

“Michael! Oh my God, Michael!” The scream reverberated through the street as Maria came pushing through the crowd.

Michael dropped the blanket he’d been clutching and turned just in time to catch his girlfriend as she came barreling into his chest. “I’m okay,” he soothed, wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, tears running down her face. She kissed his cheeks, his lips, his nose, her hands traveling over him to make sure he was in one piece.

Max pulled his cell phone from his pocket and stepped away from the chaos. When he moved, Liz spotted Sheriff Valenti approaching through the crowd. His face bore the same serious yet unreadable expression she remembered from her youth – the one he wore when he was getting down to business.

“How you folks holding up?” he asked, nodding toward the Parkers.

“Fine, Jim,” Liz’s father told him. “Grateful to be alive.”

The Sheriff nodded again, his eyes darting to where Michael and Maria stood twined together. “I’d say that’s the proper word, all right,” he agreed.

Max finished his phone call and returned to the group. “Sheriff,” he said. “Thanks for calling so quickly.”

“No problem, Max. Doing my job. Just glad things turned out as well as they did.” He glanced toward the firefighters, who were still working to contain the flames. “We won’t know until the arson team’s been through the scene, but think it’s safe to say that I don’t like the look of this.”

Max met Liz’s gaze. “Me neither,” he said quietly. “But this isn’t the time or place to discuss it. Can you come by our apartment later, once you’re done here?”

Valenti’s brows rose, disappearing beneath the brim of his Stetson. “Is this the sort of meeting I imagine?”

Max nodded, his expression grim. “Exactly.”

***

Their tiny living room was bursting at the seams. Liz’s parents had taken the love seat, while Max’s had the couch along with Isabel, who – at six months pregnant – was in no shape to sit anywhere less comfortable. The Sheriff had pulled up dining room chairs for himself and Mrs. DeLuca, Jesse sat at his wife’s feet, and Michael leaned against the wall with Maria cuddled on his lap.

Liz, however, could not bring herself to join them. As soon as the last of their guests had arrived, she had retreated to Zander’s bedroom. Curled up against his headboard, she watched as he sat as his play table and colored. Max stood in the doorway just a few feet away, but it might as well have been light years for all she felt connected to him at that moment. His eyes were dark with concern, but no other emotions reached her through their bond and it frightened her.

“Are you going to come out?” he asked quietly.

She shrugged.

“Liz, everyone’s waiting.”

“Hail, hail, the gang’s all here,” she replied bitterly. “Well, except Kyle. You sure you don’t want to hold off until he can fly in from Texas? I’m sure he’ll come if you tell him it’s urgent.”

Max sighed and came into the room, sitting down beside her on the bed. His arm settled around her shoulders and, though she was tempted to resist, she found herself melting against him nevertheless.

“Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“You shouldn’t have to ask.”

“I see.” Suddenly the barrier between them evaporated and Liz felt the full weight of Max’s fears come crushing down on her, making her gasp. “Is that what you want?” he asked wryly.

Zander turned toward them, his small face scrunched up in a frown. “Daddy, stop. You’re being noisy in my head.”

Instantly, Max pulled back on the emotional deluge. “I’m sorry, buddy.”

“’s okay,” Zander replied, turning his attention back to his drawing.

Liz stifled a sob against Max’s shoulder, relaxing as his other arm came around her and he held her tightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… it’s like I’m swimming in guilt, and I don’t know how to get free.”

“I know,” he soothed. “I feel the same way, but this doesn’t change anything, Liz. We always said, no matter what happened, this is our life.”

She lifted her head and stared at him. “And if this life starts going seriously south?”

“What do other people do when that happens?” he asked, brows raised. “One day at a time, Liz. That’s all we can do.”

“Where is it?” she whispered. When Max frowned, she shook her head. “Don’t play dumb, you know what I mean. Where’s the crystal? I know you took it from Tess.”

His mouth pursed slightly. “Does it matter? I promised you that I would never use it, Liz. Do you think I won’t keep my word?”

She tilted her head. “Did you keep the crystal?”

He let out a quiet sigh, closing his eyes. “In the bank box, with the orbs and everything else.”

“Right,” she whispered. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, she gave a little nod. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You’re sure?”

“I said I’ll be there.”

She waited for him to leave before she rose and went to stand behind her son. “What are you coloring?” she asked, brushing his hair back off his face. He looked so much like Max it made her heart hurt.

Golden-brown eyes peered up at her. “’s the Crashdown, Mommy,” he told her, his tone indicating she should have realized as much. Glancing down at his paper, she could see he was right. The picture was a very credible representation of the café.

“That’s very good,” she told him. “Especially the spaceship.”

He went back to coloring his work of art, nodding emphatically. “This way they ‘member what it looked like when they fix it.”

“When who fixes it?” Liz asked.

“The ‘struction workers. Grampa Jeff said they’re gonna put it back just the way it was. With hammers and ‘dozers. No powers,” he assured her.

Tears pricked Liz’s eyes. “Well, then, I’m sure they’ll be glad to have your picture to help them.”

Zander looked up at her again. “Are you sad cuz of the Martian Melts? Grampa said he can make them for us anyway. He don’t need the big grill. He can use a pan.”

Liz let out a watery laugh. “I know, baby.” She leaned over a pressed a kiss to his head. “Mommy’s going to go talk with all the grown ups now, okay? You finish your picture.”

“Okay.”

***

Max was waiting for her in the hallway.

“I thought you were anxious to get back to everyone,” she said, pushing past him and starting for the living room. “My parents must realize by now that this is about more than a faulty boiler.” They had filled all the parents in on the basics of the alien conspiracy shortly after the kids finished high school, and had thereafter included them in any pertinent discussions. The older generation had learned to identify all the telltale signs of an emergency meeting.

“In a minute,” he said, catching her by the wrist. “We need to talk first.”

“We just did,” she protested, even as he tugged her into their bedroom and shut the door.

“No. That was you assuming you understood my motives and getting pissy over it,” he said pointedly.

Liz frowned, then let out a quick sigh. “Fine. If I’ve got it so wrong, why don’t you enlighten me.”

Instead, he got angry. “What the hell is going on? I know you had a scare this morning – we both did – but that’s no excuse to lose it on me. How did we suddenly get to be on opposite sides of the fence on this?”

“If we’re on opposite sides of the fence, it’s because you put us there.”

“I did not! You asked where the crystal was and I told you. I also told you I would never use it to try to change the future.”

“Then why is it locked away in the bank?” she demanded.

“Because we need it to activate the Granilith. Liz, you told me yourself that we modified the Granilith for time travel. That’s not its only purpose; certainly not the main one. What would you have me do? Destroy the crystal and with it any bargaining power we might have with Kivar?”

She felt all of her anger drain in a rush. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing her hand to her mouth. “I didn’t—I just got so mad that you still had it, I didn’t think.”

His expression softened and he held out his arms to her. She went into them automatically, relieved when he pulled her securely against his chest.

“Liz Evans, you are my entire life,” he murmured. “Do you really think any power in the universe would make me turn my back on you? That I’d be willing to erase our marriage or our son?” he asked brokenly.

“I—I don’t know,” she whispered honestly. “I want to say no, that I know we can make it through anything, but how can I when I have all these memories locked away that prove otherwise? We were both willing to give everything up once, Max. How do we know it won’t come to that point again?”

“I can tell you a million times that we aren’t those people, but you’ll never really believe me, will you?” His voice was sad.

“I want to. I want to so badly.” She tightened her arms around him, afraid to let go.

“Liz, look at me.” His fingers slipped beneath her chin, coaxing her to meet his gaze. “Things are already different. We aren’t reliving that timeline. Yes, we’ve suffered losses. Alex. Ava. But we learned early that Tess was a traitor, and she’ll never work against us. You’ve developed powers that, for whatever reason, you never had in that other life. We have a son with gifts that he’s only just learning to use, and who knows what abilities Isabel’s child will have. Yes, we lost the Four Square, but what we have is so much stronger.”

“Do you really believe that we can win this? That if Kivar comes, we’ll stand against him and come through the other side?”

“I believe that if he comes, we’ll stand,” Max said firmly. “No matter what the outcome. No running, no backing down. There’s no place we’d be able to go, anyway, if the planet falls. All I ask is that you stand beside me. If the world ends, we’ll see it out together, Liz, because I am never letting go of you again. Do you understand?”

“How did you get to be so strong?” she asked, reaching up and brushing back his bangs.

“I’m not strong alone,” he whispered. “Only when I hold your hand.”

“Then I better not let go.”

“No, you’d better not,” he agreed.

Liz rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his. “I love you, Max Evans,” she murmured. “Till the end of the world.”

“That’s good enough for me.” He kissed her again, then pulled her up into his arms so her feet no longer touched the ground. The hug was brief, but held all the emotion surging through them both.

“Okay,” he said, finally releasing her. “Let’s go talk to our families.”

“Any idea what we’re going to tell them?” she asked, slipping her hand into his.

“We could explain the existence of time travel?” he suggested.

“Oh goodie,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s been a while since we dropped a bomb. Should be fun.”

Max tugged her to his side and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Leaning over, he brushed a kiss against her temple. “I love you, Liz. We’re going to be okay.”

“As long as you love me, we already are.”

*****

END