Roswell Fanatics

that was an awesome part

Yay, I'm so glad my words could make your day . I'll have you know that I got sidetracked from this fic and got lost in reading Lethal Whispers AND rereading Snapshot in the past week...that was fun, hehe. But I was glad to come back here and have some nice meaty parts to catch up on! I'll be sad once the nearly daily updates stop!

Please please please please please please please please come back with more really really really really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Max and Liz. Hoping Max and Liz will stay free and have a very loving, peaceful, married life together with kids.


From:
L-J-L 76

Hi everyone!

I just wanted to point out that some people's feedback made me suspect some of you might have missed the latest chapter (77) and instead read only chapter 76. This is understandable because of my frequent updates and because there's usually more than one chapter on each page. So, just make sure that you didn't miss a chapter (since it might confuse you in the future).

Also, sorry for not updating according to schedule. It's been busy.

Thanks!

- Jo


Carolyn (keepsmiling7)

Does Liz realize how lucky she is to have Max protecting her and keeping her safe from the outside world??

There's so many things going on so she might not have had the chance to fully reflect upon this. But she loves him and she knows that he loves her. And she knows that he's taking really good care of her. She might not have survived otherwise.

Thank you for the feedback!


Eve (begonia9508) - Menstrual cramps are no fun, and most girls suffer from this in one way or another. So yes, wouldn't it be wonderful to have someone like Max around. A soothing living painkiller

Thank you for the feedback!


Helen (Roswelllostcause) - Max is great, isn't he?

Damn Command got away! Oh well let the hunt go on!

Darn. He is a sneaky one

Thank you for the feedback!


L-J-L 76 - Thank you so much for the feedback and thank you for the bump!!


Natalie36 - Thank you


fadedblue

I'll have you know that I got sidetracked from this fic and got lost in reading Lethal Whispers AND rereading Snapshot in the past week...that was fun, hehe. But I was glad to come back here and have some nice meaty parts to catch up on!

You've returned! Yay Comment above made me laugh and made me all warm inside. Thank you

Thank you so much for the feeback!


From SEVENTY-SEVEN:

He gently caught my chin between his thumb and index finger, asking, "Are you okay? With everything? With the whole-"

"Sex thing?" I filled in with a shy smile.

His mouth twitched in a smile. "Yeah."

His hand slid away from my chin, spreading goosebumps as it slid down my throat, as I leaned in to kiss him. My lips were still attached to his as I answered, "I'm more than okay."

"Good," he replied. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh?" I smiled, pulling back slightly to be able to look into his eyes. "You're not 'done' with me?"

He laughed softly. "You didn't really think that I would leave you alone after what you just experienced, after what we just experienced?"

The blush heated my cheeks and I slowly shook my head in negative. "I guess not."

He searched my eyes, his face turning introspective and filled with veiled expressions at his hushed confession. "I can't get enough of you. I fear I'm addicted to you, Ms. Parker."

I crawled up on his lap, feeling the effects of what the proximity of that new position did to his body as I replied slowly, "I'm all yours, Evans. All night long." I slowly licked my lips, guiding his gaze towards my mouth. "And every night there after. Forever."

He didn't reply in words. His emotional reply was enough.

SEVENTY-EIGHT

It was still early morning (and it couldn't have been very long after we had fallen asleep) as my full bladder forced me to disentangle myself from Max's warmth and quietly search out some clothes in the darkness.

I pulled a T-shirt over my head and soft sweatpants up my naked lower body before leaning over his sleeping face, pausing to watch the flickering movements of his eyes under his eyelids and take in the softness of his mouth as his lips were slightly parted in sleep. The way his cheek was pressed into the mattress and how his arm was hanging over the edge of the bed.

I jumped as he opened his mouth and whispered, "Where are you going?"

My breath caught, my heart hammering in my chest, and I said softly, "Go back to sleep."

With a tired groan, he opened one eye and looked at me. The warmth of his presence - of his alerted consciousness - was flowing around me. His tone was raspy with sleep as he repeated drowsily, "Where are you going, Parker?"

I brought my startled heart back under control, a smile whispering across my lips, and leaned down to gentle kiss him.

'Gentle' had honestly been my intention, until Max buried his hand into my hair and pulled my mouth closer, deepening the kiss. My stomach tightened as blazing desire shot straight through me and he swallowed my moan as he softened the kiss before pulling back.

"Don't go," he mumbled, looking up at me with dark eyes through a veil of eyelashes.

Lust was trembling through me, making my thighs clench in response to the memory of how his mouth could make me feel. In response to the memories of where his mouth had been just hours ago.

He reached out, his intense look locked on my face, and wrapped his long fingers around my hip, pulling me closer.

"Stay," he whispered, his voice warm enough to melt me into a puddle on the floor.

I swallowed, knowing that he probably already knew this through the connection, but croaked helplessly, "I need to pee."

His hand crept up the inside of the T-shirt, dancing lightly north along my skin. His thumb skimmed the underside of my breast, making me freeze in anticipation, before he slid his hand around the sensitive skin of the side of my ribs, to my shoulder blade, and pressed me forward.

He was pressing the side of his body up through his elbow to reach me; to get closer, and I felt myself gravitating towards him.

"Oh," he mumbled, in response to my clarification. "Then you have to go."

My eyes closed as his hand continued down my back, moving inside the sweatpants. I wasn't wearing any panties under those pants, and the knowledge made my breathing pick up as his touch cradled my hip before moving to my butt cheek, pressing his fingers into its pliable softness and tugging me forward rather suddenly.

A gasped laugh of surprise breezed out of me as I stumbled against him. "Max..."

There was amusement in my voice, reflecting the bewildered self-consciousness I was feeling at his actions in the middle of the night. How he always managed to surprise me, even when I was inside his mind.

He (easily) shifted me sideways, bringing my hips straight in front of him, before he rearranged his position in bed, coming to lie on his stomach facing me, and unceremoniously pulled my pants down.

The sound that came out of me was a mixture of a gasp and a surprised moan, as the long T-shirt (its size made it clear that I was wearing Max's discarded T-shirt instead of my own) lightly stroked against my now naked thighs.

My words had left me. My reasoning had taken a hike with my voice. My legs were trembling, making me place my hands on the top of his head, grabbing onto his hair for support.

Because he was stroking his warm hands up the outside of my thighs, catching the hem of the T-shirt on the back of his hands, bundling the material up on his wrists as his strong fingers traced the outline of my well-demarcated hip bones before pressing heatedly into the natural the dip of my waist.

I was holding my breath, my body moving in small restless movements. Because I knew that he was looking at me. I knew what he was seeing. Even if I hadn't been able to read his mind.

I still wasn't used to him looking at me like that. With untamed hunger. With exposed yearning. With consuming love.

I don't know if I would ever get used to the shame and the humiliation I felt being this exposed to someone. Standing naked in front of someone, while his feelings were almost sending me over the edge. The conflict in my head was extremely heart-wrenching. How my critical opinion of myself bounced against his adoration for that same body.

His grip on my waist was turning harder, his fingers digging into my waist, and the feelings that ran through me at the possessiveness of his touch would have sent me to the floor had that same grip not been holding me up.

With a simple flexing of his arms, my stomach was pulled up to his mouth, and he slowly pressed a kiss just above my pubic bone. My fingers dug into his scalp. His breaths were warm and present as he breathed against my skin, letting the sensations and feelings of our proximity, of our desire and love, pulsate through us.

I opened my mouth with the intention of reminding him that I needed to go to the toilet, when his mouth started moving horizontally along the invisible line where the top edge of my panties would usually sit. I could feel the occasional touch of his tongue in the center of his open-mouthed kisses, interspersed with sweeps of only his lips.

My whole being was so focused on the feel of his touch that I trembled every time he moved half an inch, which seemed to be the distance he had 'decided' to allocate between his kisses.

His thumbs were sinking into my hips, the tips of the other eight fingers digging into the top of my butt cheeks while his palms were fused so intimately to the sides of my pelvis that the affected area felt as if it was on fire.

He slowly kissed down the gentle ditch of my left groin and my hold on his hair, on his head, tightened in a desperate attempt to remain standing.

"I love you," he whispered, his words as tight with emotions as the connection vibrating intensely and brightly between us.

My eyes, which had been squeezed tightly shut, slowly opened and I looked down at the crown of his head, and signaled my wish for him to not support my weight anymore, to let me slide to my knees.

He looked up at me as my knees touched the cold floor, and my chest ached with my love for him as I slid my palms down his temples, down his cheeks, the millimeters of stubble on the lower part of his face tickling my hands sensually. His eyes closed as I leaned forward and pressed gentle kisses on his eyelids, and he pressed his lips to the pads of my thumbs which I had paused against the center of his mouth.

"I love you," I said with quiet emphasis.

I felt his lips move into a smile beneath my thumbs and even the small movements his mouth made as he replied was enough to send me shivers of pleasure. "But you need to pee."

I giggled breathlessly and angled my face down to kiss his lips. Something I didn't think I would ever get tired of doing. My whispered reply was returning my shivers of pleasure to him as I confirmed, "Desperately."

"Then go," he commanded softly and reached around me to pinch my butt.

"Ow," I laughed and pulled back from him, catching his playful eyes as he struggled to restrain his grin.

His voice was oddly collected in contrast to him cracking up in his mind as he said, "But put some pants on first."

I had pants on, I fired at him grumpily and stepped back from him to retrieve my pants. A traitorous shudder of yearning rocked me as his hands fluttered along my hips as I withdrew.

As I stepped into the pants and started to pull them up my legs, Max reached out and grabbed a hold of the bottom hem of the T-shirt.

Looking down at him, his face was serious, his eyes searing straight through me. "Don't be gone too long."

I wanted to smile at him, but the intended casualness of the request was completely drowning in the gravity of his fear over losing me again.

We were taking the concept of separation anxiety ridiculously out of proportion.

I leaned down and kissed him slowly, pouring my heart into the kiss, and tenderly removed the rather tight grip he had on the T-shirt.

"I won't," I promised and left the room with his eyes following my exit with unblinking intensity.
My legs felt doughy, my heart filled with light, as I sank down on the toilet and finally got to do what I had been needing to do for awhile.

After, I stood in front of the sink. I had avoided looking up in the mirror since that first day, when the sight of myself had shocked me into an apathetic darkness of self-loathing I'd rather not revisit.

But this time I couldn't stop myself. I needed to see if the last couple of days had made any visible changes to my outside appearance that would confirm the changes I felt on the inside.

My hands gripped the edge of the cold white porcelain sink and slowly, I looked up. And started crying.

Because I could finally recognize myself again. At least parts of me. My cheeks had gained some color, my eyes had attained some light, my face had filled out and the bruises under my eyes had faded. I was still not back to my regular weight, but at least I didn't look like a walking skeleton anymore.

You're glowing, Max whispered through my head, making me aware of the fact that he had been listening in.

In response to his comment, I slowly brought my hand to my cheek and brushed it over my cheekbones. Tears were wetting my eyes, but they didn't roll down my face. They collected like a fine wet sheen of relief and hope, making my dark brown eyes glisten with life.

I brushed my hands through my hair, pulling it back from my face, before letting it cascade down my shoulders. There was life back in my hair. There was intelligence and wakefulness in the eyes of the reflection that was following my movements to the slightest detail.

You're making me glow, I thought and it might have been cheesy if it weren't for the tentative and almost surprised acknowledgement of that statement. It had just hit home for me how important Max had become to me. I hadn't known him for many weeks (only as a suspicious distant observer of his presence before that), but he was already such a big part of my life.

Come back to bed. His request was laced with his need for me, to have me close and to feel my body melt against his.

On my way, I replied, washed my hands and sneaked a final astonished glance at myself in the mirror before I walked towards the door.

Pulling the door open and stepping out into the darkness, I walked straight into a warm, living obstacle. Something that almost made me fall over. Something that I couldn't identify in the darkness and which made my heart freeze and energy immediately tingle in my fingertips.

The faint scent of sweat, and something I couldn't pinpoint, traveled up my nostrils and my heart almost stopped as I recognized the unidentifiable presence in front of me to be a living and breathing person.

Someone that was grabbing my arms to stop my fall. Someone who immediately thereafter released me; the act telling me that the person was an alien who had felt the energy sparkling down my arms. The person took a quick step back, and as my eyes slowly adjusted from the bright white light of the bathroom to the dim darkness of the hallway, I noticed how the air seemed to ripple in the space between me and the dark stranger.

My breathing was loud in my ears, my body momentarily frozen in paused panic.

Liz?

At Max's frightened voice, my body was propelled into action and I stumbled backwards, intending to pull myself backwards into the safety of the bathroom behind me.

But the stranger's voice stopped me, "Hey, hey. Calm down, alright? It's me. Michael."

My body was still tight in preparation and I briefly wondered if I would be able to hurt the person if I needed to. If I could still call on the connection. If I felt threatened enough to get it to react.

"Fuck," Michael said in a loud hiss that did nothing to calm my feelings, "What the hell are you doing? Is that energy? Down your arms?"

I felt Max's presence in the hallway the fraction of a second before he opened his mouth, "It's him, Liz. It's Michael."

Outside of all Max's capabilities, did he have bat eyes too? There was no way Max could see who was standing in front of me in this dark corridor. My breathing was fast, agitated, and my heart was thumping out of my chest. How do you know?

"I recognize his aura, okay?"

"Could you please tell your girlfriend to stand down?" Michael snapped, annoyance and hostility making the rippling in the air in front of him nauseatingly active.

Max stepped up next to me, taking a gentle hold of my elbow and pulling my into his side by wrapping his arm around my shaking body. My eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness and they were confirming Max's words.

In front of me, behind vibrating air, was the annoyed version of Michael Guerin. His hair was a bit too long, standing out on all ends. As if he had just woken up. There was dark fire in his eyes and his lips were pressed into a tight thin line of anger. He was dressed all in black, making him blend in with his surroundings, and I noticed black straps crossing symmetrically over his shoulders, hanging down his sides. I've seen that accessory before. It was some kind of weapon string used by police and military. Squinting my eyes, I tried to see if he was wearing any weapons, but if he was, they were melting into the dark setting of the corridor.

Max startled me out of my cautious scan of Michael by trailing his hand down the arm being hugged under his and I looked away from Michael to see the sparkles flicker over my skin.

Calm down, he told me gently and I could feel him pulling the energy out of me. Not draining me, but retrieving and absorbing the excess. Since I obviously didn't know what to do with it (except releasing it).

"Remove your shield, Michael," Max instructed while lacing his fingers with the ones of my hands pressed to the front of his abdomen.

"I see what the big fuss is about now," Michael huffed and the ripples disappeared.

Had it been some kind of force field?

Yes, Max replied silently. A protective field.

"What are you doing here, Michael? At this hour?"

"Like it or not, Maxwell, I'm still your protector," Michael replied and I reacted to how unpleasant his voice was. How defensive and rough.

It was the combination of the texture of his voice with the manner in which he was addressing Max that instantly morphed my fear into anger.

"Really?" I spat, feeling Max's confusion at my anger through the bond. "And where were you when Max was being held captive, huh?" I pulled away from Max, and he let me go without question. I could feel his amusement, in reference to Michael's surprised reaction, when Michael took a step back and the air around him started to ripple again.

He had brought the protective field up again. Was he afraid of me? Or was he just doubting that I could control the energy and 'accidentally' hurt him?

"Fuck, Max. Tighten the leash on your woman."

"What?" Max scoffed, acting nonchalant but I could feel the anger of how much his comment had affected him. "You're not afraid, are you? She's just an insignificant human, after all."

I could only assume that Max was referring to something that had been discussed between him and Michael at some earlier point, but I didn't waste any time on pondering or reflecting over any possible details.

Instead I took a step towards Michael, his eyes narrowing and turning the darkest shade of black in the dimness of the hallway as he watched me point at him accusingly. "And why didn't you attend the meeting? As Max's protector, you should have been there!"

Michael sighed and rolled his eyes before completely ignoring me in favor of looking at Max. "Are you really going to make me explain the basics to this one?"

Apparently, those words combined with his obvious dismissal of me, snapped Max's control.

Before Michael could react, Max had pointed our still interlaced hands towards Michael and his protective force field. I had time to register the energy quickly gathering and feeling it being directed out through our hands. My adrenaline spiked in those few seconds when I was unaware of what Max had ordered our energy to do, until I saw Michael fall backwards and slide across the floor, down the hall, on his ass.

"He'll live," Max grumbled under his breath at me, when my fear of what Max had just made us do weakened my knees.

Instead, his attack on Michael - our attack - was equivalent of him shoving Michael, but he had needed our combined energy to get through Michael's protective field.

In a way I wanted to do more, to make Michael understand that he should not have abandoned Max like that when he had needed Michael the most. But using alien abilities still frightened me. I would have settled for punching him the human way.

"What the fu-" Michael started, gingerly getting to his feet. I couldn't see his face in the darkness - not with him so far away - but I was pretty sure he wasn't very impressed with our display of power. Especially how we had been able to get through his protective field.

"I'm just gonna say this once, Michael," Max said, using our intertwined hands to pull me back against him. More for his benefit than for mine. "Don't you ever talk down to her again. She's included in the protection of me now-"

Michael snorted, brushing imaginary dirt off his pants, "Says who? You're in no position to change my directives."

I felt strong; my back straightening, my lungs filling with air and my chin raising. I noticed Max mimicking my change in posture. It was impossible to discern which one of us had influenced the other.

But it was Max's clear voice that boomed across the hall at his protector. As if he was the one calling the shots. "In order to keep me safe, you have to keep Liz safe. We're linked."

Michael stared at us, remaining in a position several feet away from us. His voice was arrogant as he remarked, "Linked? As in both of you will die in case of the other's death?"

"No," Max said and I could hear the eye-roll in his voice. "But if Liz were to die, you might as well consider me dead."

I swallowed, my mouth turning dry, as I looked up at his hard-set profile.

Ditto, I whispered to his mind and his hand tightened around mine without letting go of Michael with his eyes.

Michael sighed loudly and mumbled under his breath, "Romantic BS," before clearing his throat and saying, "If you're done being drama queens, I would like to get back to doing my job."

"Oh?" I feigned surprise. "Starting now, are you? Because you've been doing a shitty job at it up until now."

"Liz..." Max murmured quietly, but my eyes were fixed on Michael's face wanting him to give me an explanation as to why Max had been abused over and over again - even before we were captured.

He was not allowed to protect me against our own, Max told me. Just like Isabel or Alex haven't been able to intervene. It would be like going up against the police-

"I don't care," I said out loud, meeting Max's concerned eyes. Without looking at Michael, I used my free hand to point at him sharply. "Someone that is suppose to protect you would do so even outside of some 'rules'. How can you trust someone with your life that wouldn't risk his life for you? Isn't 'taking a bullet for your client' a prerequisite for becoming a bodyguard?"

Max was trying to figure out a way to explain, but I didn't care about his explanations. He didn't need to explain. I knew the reasoning behind it - I wasn't stupid - but, "Alex helped me break into your house because I knew that something was happening to you. He did it, even though he knew that you were probably serving a punishment and he wasn't allowed to interfere with that. Isabel found a way around the rules and had me give you warmth when she couldn't."

I narrowed my eyes at Michael and added acidly, "There are always ways around. If you're willing." I shifted my upset gaze back to Max and added heatedly, "He might be fighting on our side, but I don't trust him."

"Liz..." Max said quietly and almost sadly. Mostly because he wanted me to feel that I was protected by Michael, but also because my words had resonated with something that had bothered Max for as long as he could remember. For as long as Michael had been his protector.

The reason as to why Max had never let Michael in. Why they never had become true friends.

Because Michael followed the law precisely and accurately. Even if he was right now supporting a new authority to take the place of the old one, he would continue to follow whatever rules that new authority were to give him. As long as the rules were made by men of power.

This took precedent over his role as a protector.

From my outside perspective, Michael was not loyal to Max. He was loyal to his superiors. As our horrible past has just proven, your superiors could suddenly turn against you and order for your torture or death. Which meant that Max was never safe in Michael's 'care' as long as Michael's primary loyalty was with the superiors. Since Max was - hierarchically speaking - below Michael, he got the short end of the stick.

"Are you gonna let her talk to me like-" Michael started, but Max's loud and abrupt "Shh," must have stunned Michael into a general loss of words because he didn't continue what he had been about to say.

"I'm going back to our room," I told Max. "He can stay and protect us-" my sarcastic bite had Michael's face turn into stone, "-if he wants to, but I think I'll do just fine without his protection."

Untangling my hand from Max's, I moved to the tips of my bare cold toes (the floor was freezing) and placed a soft kiss to his cheek, before turning my back on the aliens, walking into our bedroom and closing the door behind me.


TBC...

I just loved how Liz talked to and about Michael!

She said some truths witch were important for her to say and I guess Michael's ego is going to be bruised for a few months... at least!

Especially since Max didn't contradict her at all...

I couldn't quite believe that Liz turned into such a person who tells people what she thinks of them without taking gloves... But after Max and her went through, it is not a surprise and Michael just, got what he merited; Who was he, when they were tortured? looking through the fenster?


Anyway, enjoying this story and waiting impatiently for more!!! EVE

Great Chapter!!!! Please please please please please please please please please please come back and post more really really really really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Max and Liz. Loved the way Max and Liz are with each other. Michael should learn never to piss Liz and Max off. I guess Michael will learn the hard way.


From:
L-J-L 76

Love this Liz......no holes barred.
Poor girl, thought her bladder would burst with Max's attention.
And out of nowhere the protector appears........
Great part,
Carolyn

Michael better not mess with Liz! She is no longer scared of him. She now has her claws out and ready to rip him apart!


Helen

Sorry! So sorry! I didn't mean to stay away this long. So I'm giving you three chapters today Thank you so much for reading and for leaving feedback

xx
Jo


Eve (begonia9508)

She said some truths witch were important for her to say and I guess Michael's ego is going to be bruised for a few months... at least!

Poor Michael He's probably not very used to humans talking back to him...

I couldn't quite believe that Liz turned into such a person who tells people what she thinks of them without taking gloves...

Actually, she's always been that person. Looking back, before everything started happening with Max, she actually was the person that followed her own path and didn't care much what anyone else might tell her to do. And even though she's stayed true to this during the course of the story, it was a bit subdued and repressed for awhile, when she was dealing with the death of her mother, the alien world and then being held captive.

Thank you for the feedback!


L-J-L 76

Michael should learn never to piss Liz and Max off. I guess Michael will learn the hard way.

*laughs* Exactly

Thank you for the feedback!


Carolyn (keepsmiling7)

Poor girl, thought her bladder would burst with Max's attention.

*laughs* Yep

Thank you for the feedback!


Helen (roswelllostcause) - Yeah, don't mess with Liz. Especially not now After what she (and Max) has been through. Thank you for the feedback!


From SEVENTY-EIGHT:

The reason as to why Max had never let Michael in. Why they never had become true friends.

Because Michael followed the law precisely and accurately. Even if he was right now supporting a new authority to take the place of the old one, he would continue to follow whatever rules that new authority were to give him. As long as the rules were made by men of power.

This took precedent over his role as a protector.

From my outside perspective, Michael was not loyal to Max. He was loyal to his superiors. As our horrible past has just proven, your superiors could suddenly turn against you and order for your torture or death. Which meant that Max was never safe in Michael's 'care' as long as Michael's primary loyalty was with the superiors. Since Max was - hierarchically speaking - below Michael, he got the short end of the stick.

"Are you gonna let her talk to me like-" Michael started, but Max's loud and abrupt "Shh," must have stunned Michael into a general loss of words because he didn't continue what he had been about to say.

"I'm going back to our room," I told Max. "He can stay and protect us-" my sarcastic bite had Michael's face turn into stone, "-if he wants to, but I think I'll do just fine without his protection."

Untangling my hand from Max's, I moved to the tips of my bare cold toes (the floor was freezing) and placed a soft kiss to his cheek, before turning my back on the aliens, walking into our bedroom and closing the door behind me.
SEVENTY-NINE

I was too angry to listen in on what Max might be experiencing emotionally in his discussion with Michael. I was puffing up the pillows on our bed (a nicer way of describing my evident abuse of the cushions), as I was trying to get my feelings under control.

I didn't like how Michael treated Max. I didn't like how Michael (obviously) viewed himself as superior to Max and that Max's health and life was directly dependent upon Michael following orders. That Max's life came second, even when Michael was his primary protection.

I didn't know Michael well enough to have acquired a full understanding of his views on human beings, but I had a very distinct feeling they weren't very good. I quite clearly remembered how he had always treated me in school. His insinuations, his assumptions, that he was allowed to talk to me or treat me in a certain way.

I was pulling the duvet back when Max walked through the door to our bedroom. His feelings were cautious, as if he was trying to get a feel of the situation and figure out what to say. I wasn't hiding anything from him; my anger was simmering hotly through the bond making him very aware of my state of mind.

"Liz..."

"I would rather have Alex outside. Or Isabel." Even if they aren't as trained in combat as Michael is, I added silently.

I didn't look at him to evaluate how my annoyed tone of voice had been received. Instead I stepped out of the sweatpants and pulled the T-shirt over my head. Leaving me completely naked.

My back was to his as I got into bed and pulled the duvet up to my chin.

I had felt the effect the sight of my naked body had had on him. Especially with our very recent lovemaking at the front of his mind. Especially considering that I had never before undressed like that in front of him. Like I wasn't the least self-conscious about him seeing me. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to be in front of him, in the exposing light from the floor lamp, without any clothing to shield myself behind.

I was too angry to care. I wanted to get back to where we left off before Michael had disrupted the order I had recently been fighting so hard to regain in the midst of the chaos that was my life. I wanted to get back to Max and I, in bed, hiding in our bubble of privacy and love.

I squeezed my eyes tightly closed as his feelings washed over me and I tried not to let them affect me. They were slowly eating away at my anger, making the overwhelming emotion weak and non-important. The strength of what he was feeling for me - physically and emotionally - was making my body tremble. I curled further in on myself, pressing my knees together.

I was telling myself that I wanted to go back to sleep. That I wanted to forget about this whole Michael thing. The only way to do so was to literally close my eyes against it and wish it would disappear. Just like when you were a child and you hoped the monsters would disappear if you shut your eyes at them.

But at the same time, I wanted to lose myself in Max. I wanted him to help me get rid of the anger that didn't belong in me.

I felt the bed dip, heard the breeze of his breath close to my head, and I asked, "Is he outside?"

He neither gave a reply in words nor thoughts, instead pulling the duvet away from my body.

My eyes snapped open against the cold air, but before I had a chance to ask him what he was doing, his hand brushed against my neck causing me to freeze as my heart started a (by now) familiar excited rhythm. My skin was instantly on high alert, the sensation of my hair being moved over my shoulder, tickling my skin and exposing my throat, made me bite down on my tongue to silence a building moan.

He had muted his thoughts, letting me only dimly sense his emotions. Something that seemed to make his touches even more intimate, more sensual, more sexual. Because I had no idea where he was planning to touch me next.

Just like a regular relationship, I thought and he gently bit my shoulder, making me slide my arm out in front of me, feeling the coolness of the sheet against the soft skin of my underarm, only to desperately fist the sheet in my hand.

The warmth from his mouth against my skin shot straight towards my center and I tightened in arousal as he slowly marked my shoulder with his teeth. His lips and tongue gently soothed the nip from his teeth, before he deliberately trailed the curve of my left shoulder blade with his mouth, bathing my skin in his heated breath. Goosebumps exploded across my skin as he lightly fluttered his hand down the side of my chest, into the curve of my waist, up over the gentle hill of my hip, while his mouth continued down the length of my spine.

A whimper betrayed my feelings (as if he couldn't already read them), and while clenching the sheet in my hand, I rolled onto my stomach to attempt to alleviate the ache he was building in me.

His hand caressed over my butt at the movement, before running back up along the side of my body.

He wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing when his thigh brushed over the back of my thighs and he came to straddle me, keeping the majority of the weight of his lower body off mine while I felt his skin against my back. With the regular movement of his breathing against my upper body, I concluded that his chest was hovering above my upper body, confirmed by his lips pressing to the center of my back before he shifted (I felt every single millimeter of that shift), put the sides of his knees against my waist and leaned back into a seated position on the small of my back.

My insides tightened and I bit the pillow tucked under my head to restrain myself while he leaned forward and brushed my hair completely off my shoulders with his large hand. I was acutely aware of his other hand supporting his weight, since it was pressed into the mattress so closely to my body that I could feel his thumb against the side of my breast.

I felt a lot more exposed like this. A lot more fragile and vulnerable. When my body was locked beneath his, not being able to read him or even see him. When my senses were responding to every small tremble of his body, repeatedly bringing me very close to the edge.

He started kneading the muscles of my back. Even though my eyes were closed to the sight of it, I could feel the added pleasure of the glow as he massaged the tension out of my shoulders. Either it was the glow, or he was using his healing ability, but whenever he would encounter a sore spot, a collection of pain, it would heat up until a point where I was about to scream, just before it magically disappeared. Like it had never been there to start with.

I wasn't even surprised that he knew how to massage. There were just too many factors making it possible for him to become an expert that I didn't even question it.

He languidly moved down my back, taking his time to disintegrate sore spots, heating up muscles, softening tightness. But he never once let me relax into the feeling. He kept me teetering on the brink of climaxing by brushing his fingers down the sensitive skin of my armpits to lightly cup the outsides of my breasts, before fluttering back up to my back, rubbing the muscles attached to my spine, before leaning over and kissing, nipping, and sucking on different spots on my skin.

My cheeks turned heated red with embarrassment as he continued down the softness of my bottom. My mortification grew as my body responded in the most disloyal manner, pushing my behind up against his pressing hands, the desire in me threatening to drown me.

He was moving his own body down the back of my legs, making my breath hitch, and his hands never left my body as they slid down the sides of my hips and the outsides of my thighs while his mouth kissed my recently adored butt cheeks.

The light slow touch of his hand between my legs was as innocent as it was non-lingering, making my body shudder and my lower body chase upwards after his touch.

But he continued down the back of my legs, pulling breathless giggles out of me as he kissed the ticklish areas at the back of my knees, before massaging down my shins.

Until he touched me, I had no idea that even the muscles of my shins were aching. That even my legs needed healing.

His caress back up my legs was a lot more firm, calling for my attention, before he put firm fingers on my shoulders and flipped me onto my back.

My hair brushed against the front of my shoulders, billowing down the tops of my breasts, some strands getting stuck to my moist lips, some twitching in the air from my shallow breathing, as my eyes collided with his.

His eyes drank me up. Shadows fell deliciously across his strong features as backlight lit the contours of his face. The shading to his features turned his eyes almost black. Or maybe it was the dilation of the pupils, eating up his irises, that flooded his eyes with intense desire.

He hadn't uttered a single word since he had entered the room and I could still only hear whispers of his consciousness in my mind. His eyes were slowly roaming my face, my soul paused in anticipation of what he would do next.

The sides of his wrists were pressing into the sides of my breasts, a point of connection I was as much aware of as his hips once again straddling my waist, even in my flipped position.

I wanted him inside of me. Now.

I encircled his wrists with my fingers and slowly stroke my palms up the length of his underarms - shivering with pleasure at the feel of the dark short hairs covering his arms - before circling around his elbows and grabbing the backs of his upper arms. A shudder went through him, his eyes drifting closed and my eyes were teased to his lips as he slowly licked them.

I slowly arched my back and the second the action had the lower part of my stomach come in contact with his privates, he flushed his upper body against mine, attacking my exposed neck with his lips.

"Max," I sighed as he kissed, nipped, and licked down the column of my throat.

I pushed my hands through his hair, my legs fidgeting against the white sheets. The length of his shins against the outside of my thighs made it difficult for me to move and I groaned in frustration, moving my hands from his hair to brush down his neck, down his shoulders and down the front of his chest.

He whispered my name against my collarbone, making my skin vibrate with the low tone of his voice.

I raked my nails up his chest and he crashed our lips together. His lips were hot against mine, enticing and passionate. He was tugging on my bottom lip, sensually touching my tongue with his, while he rearranged his position, lifting off me to slide his body in between my legs.

He drank my gasp of pleasure as his change in position brought him in intimate contact with my lower body. He deliberately rubbed against me, his hands moving teasingly over my breasts, down my ribs and up again.

I grabbed a hold of his ears, pressing the heels of my palms into his jaw, and got out breathlessly between the continuous assaults of his mouth on mine, "I need you."

He dove in and captured my lips again. Through my haze of desire, I could feel the distraction in the movement of his body against mine as he reached out to grab a condom from the drawer in the nightstand.

His lips slid down the edge of my jaw, giving me an opportunity to try and get oxygen into my starved lungs.

Then his hand was between us, rubbing against the enticed bundle of nerves at the apex of my legs, and my response was immediate.

"Ma-" He covered his mouth with mine, silencing the orgasmic scream of his name.

I was floating; my body completely relaxed in the aftermath of the perfectly executed massaging of my muscles, of his loving adoration of my skin, of the heat from the alien glow.

I was vaguely aware of him continuing to touch my skin - fluttering caresses over every inch of my skin - and while my breathing was slowing down and I was gradually landing in the solidity of my body, he pulled back to put the condom on.

My body tensed; it was prepared for another immediate climax before my mind had a chance to catch up, as he moved his palms up the sides of my upper body, before positioning himself at my entrance.

At that point, he removed the damper he had placed on his feelings and thoughts through the connection.

His desire, his need, his want, flooded my system along with his fantasies, the feel of my skin against his, the almost painful strain of his obvious arousal and the intense love he had for me.

It brought me straight over the edge again and - to avoid broadcasting to the rest of the building what we were up to - he repeated the act of muffling my gasped scream with his mouth while he pushed inside of me.

I never had a chance to come down from the high or let the orgasm ebb out before his slow thrusts, his hands moving slowly up my underarms to lace our fingers above my head, and his hungry kissing, brought me into the next one.

Power was building up around us, making the small hairs on my arms stand up. I distractedly noted a blinking light behind my closed eyelids as our fronts slid heatedly against the other with every thrust of his hips.

I was somewhere else. Drifting above my body. Drifting on the sensations as my ridiculously sensitized body fell into one orgasm after the other. My knees had fallen out to the sides; I was boneless.

Max shared in the phenomenon our bodies was experiencing. I could feel me spasming repeatedly around him with my multiple climaxes, could hear the wonderment in his mind at the fluid motion in loving my body. As if his body was following a choreographed dance, floating against mine. The only thing that kept him from drifting off along with me was his control. He was still holding himself back. Delaying his own release (which might have made him tumble into one peak after the other - right along with me) to prolong my pleasure.

But also restraining himself because he was afraid of what would happen if he would completely give in. Not only because of practical reasons (would our human protection be enough to prevent pregnancy in the case of multiple orgasms?), but also because he was afraid to let go with me. Afraid of what the connection might tap into. If he would somehow hurt me.

I pushed my chest up against his, curving my upper spine and straightening my neck as his grip was still holding my hands pressed into the mattress above my head, and pulled him into a deep kiss. His loving of my body slowed, his grip on my hands loosening, as he melted into my kiss.

I felt his heart beat hard against my breast. I felt the moisture from his sweat on his cheeks as I pulled my hands from his relaxed grip and cradled his face in my hands.

My mind was at peace. Bathing in tranquility and serenity. Through the calmness of my mind I whispered for him to, Let go.

His hand came to cup my breast between our bodies, his thumb rolling over my erect nipple, and I gasped into his mouth. His body was doing all the right things, feeling everything perfectly. But his mind was in conflict.

You won't hurt me, I assured him.

His eyes opened to look into mine and he slowly separated our lips. I felt the pounding consequences of our fierce kissing blush my sore lips as I waited for him to give in.

The connection won't let you, I added. I won't let you.

It was not like he hadn't let go with me before. It was not like he hadn't fallen apart inside of me in our past or as if he never had experienced an orgasm with me. But I had slowly come to realize that he had never fully let go. He had kept his control over his mind even as his body had made its release.

The control over his mind was what kept his abilities in check. It's what, in his opinion, made him safe when in contact with humans.

It was the last barrier standing in between us. I desperately wanted him to lose himself. I desperately wanted him to get lost in the sensations. Just like he had me do. Over and over again.

He was a silent observer of my mind, of my thoughts, as I looked down the depths of emotion in his eyes. Maybe it was my reflections and silent monologue that made up his mind. Maybe it was a strengthening of the trust in the connection and that it would protect me. That it would protect me even against him. Or maybe it was a longing to fully experience us. Without any boundaries.

Something flickered in his eyes, something snapped in his mind, and he brought his arms around my back and arranged us into a seated position. The jostling of our physically connected bodies was bordering on painful and I momentarily bit my lip causing an apology to tumble quietly over his lips before he pressed the top of his thighs against my back, my legs draping down the outsides of his hips, his manhood deep inside of me.

The position put my head slightly above his and I stilled, my arms over the top of his shoulders, feeling a drop of sweat slowly slide down between my breasts, while I looked down into his open and honest face.

He was all around me. As deep inside of me as was possible.

With my nipples brushing against his smooth chest with our every breath, his hands moved sensually up my back, over my shoulder blades, shoulders and down my arms. The stillness of his lower body informed me that he was handing control over to me. The slow warm smile on his lips confirmed my realization as he said with that dark timber of his voice that made my whole body shudder with passion, "Take me away, Ms. Parker."

I felt the smile radiate off my lips and I silently nodded as I curled my hands around his strong shoulders for leverage and slowly lifted myself off him ever so slightly, before sinking back down on him again.

His soft groan and the closing of his eyelids encouraged my movements and I started a slow intimate move against him. At first, his hands held onto my waist tightly, his eyes closed, as he let me direct our lovemaking. But as the fire built within us, as my pace gradually increased, he couldn't resist to help me out by gently lifting his hips off the mattress to meet my movements.

The friction of our chests moving together, our shared sensations over the connection, the way he was filling me in the most complete way, the way I was wrapped around him - body, limbs, and heart, was making it hard for me to breathe. Was making me grip hard onto his hair and dig my toes in the mattress behind him, my heels occasionally brushing against his lower back.

I could feel him easing off. I could feel how he purposely concentrated on letting all of his walls down, on allowing himself to get caught in the wave and let it carry him away.

When it happened, when his mind let go along with his body, his release spread like a fire into my body causing my body to disintegrate with pleasure, his cry of my name muffled against my skin as he pressed his face against the top of my breast. My vision went black for a second, heat flowed up my entire body, starting at the point where we were joined and ending in my chest. My breath got lost in the bright light I could see in his mind. My body was floating on the intense pure feelings of his being.

I no longer had a body. I was pure energy. Blending and mixing with Max's essence.

I don't know how long it lasted for. I don't know how we came to lie down on the bed or how our bodies moved into the position I found myself in when I came back to the solidity of my body.

I was almost expecting his first question to be 'Are you okay?', but to my surprise there was no worry in his mind. Not a single trace of concern or doubt. I had never experienced his mind so clear, so pure, so rid of self-criticism and guilt.

Turning to face him as we laid next to each other, my eyes connected with the bright golden hue of his irises and I startled at the sight, at the instant pure joy that flooded me.

He was gorgeous.

I gulped, bringing a trembling hand up to brush reverently down his cheek, his cheek moving into a soft smile beneath my touch.

No, he wasn't gorgeous. He was ethereal.

His smile broadened and he laughed, his laugher filling my chest with simple unquestionable joy.

Raising one of his eyebrows, he asked teasingly, "Ethereal?"

"You're..." I started, but had to lick my lips against the weakness of my voice.

There was a faint white line around the outsides of his face, tracing the contours of his whole body.

"You're..." I said again, frowning as I was trying to put into words what I was feeling, what I was receiving from him, what I was seeing.

"I've made you speechless," he mused, wrapping his fingers around my exploring hand which was tracing the relaxed features of his face, and bringing my palm to his mouth to adore it with a simple kiss.

"Yes," I gasped, my gaze flickering across his face in wonderment.

"I'm surprised we didn't shut the whole place down," Max said, amusement in his twinkling bright eyes as they roamed my face.

I focused on the blush of life on his cheeks and frowned. "What?"

He hitched his head towards the single light source in the room, the floor lamp. "We have a tendency to mess with the electricity..."

I remembered that we had. I remembered how that same lamp had flickered against my closed eyelids earlier. He was right. It was a wonder the place hadn't exploded along with us.

He was reading my face with a curious expression, slowly sliding the pad of his thumb up and down the side of my hand that he had gathered in his.

"Thank you," he mused softly.

My body was content in a way that shouldn't be humanly possible. I felt energized and revitalized. Reborn. Fueled with the purest and most primal of energies.

The smile on my lips came easy as I scooted closer to him, pushing myself up against him. "I was right, wasn't I?"

He smiled lovingly at my tease, letting go of my hand in favor of wrapping his palm around the back of my neck, bringing me closer and placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"You're always right," he mumbled, sending delightful shivers through me. It was amazing how he was already getting me worked up again, even after what our bodies had just gone through.

"Mm," I agreed with a contented sigh, stealing another kiss from him.

We laid there for awhile, slowly fluttering our hands over our relaxed bodies, reveling in each other's presence, telling stories and laughing. There was no darkness in our minds. Not at that time. Only happiness and the simple stories of love.

But after an hour or so, Max told me that we should get some sleep. Still looking out for my well-being, he wanted me to get some rest even when our bodies felt like super-charged batteries.

He started rustling beside me, mumbling, "I'm just gonna turn off the light," as he moved to get off the bed.

I glanced at the floor lamp over by the door and commanded it to go Dark and the lamp flickered out.

Max froze next to me and two long seconds passed before he whispered, perplexed, "Or you can do that."


TBC...

EIGHTY

His excitement was poorly contained as his whole body, frozen in this 'about to get out of bed'-stance, was tight with anticipation.

Smiling at the thoughts rushing through his mind, I asked, "Do you want me to turn the light back on?"

He slowly looked away from the switched off lamp, the twinkle of restrained expectancy in his eyes sending a delightful shiver down my spine. His exhaled, "Yes," was so transparent in its hopeful relief that he laughed guilty at himself. "Can you?"

Closing my eyes, I visualized the lamp in my head and thought Light.

But there was no flood of light against my closed eyelids.

Peeking one eye open, I groaned in disappointment at the darkness, "I was never really good at turning stuff on," referring to my ability to proficiently turn alien bonds off without the competence to switch them back on.

Max wrapped his arm around my naked waist, pulling me into his equally naked side, placed a kiss over the jugular vein throbbing fervently under my skin on the side of my neck while brushing his hand teasingly but meaningfully over my naked breast. "I wouldn't say that."

I rolled my eyes in the darkness at his very sexual thoughts and had a reply ready on my tongue, when he laughed quietly at me, pecked my shoulder and got off the bed.

I felt the absence of his body like a cold suction in my chest. He had felt it too. Leaning over me, he gently grabbed my chin and brushed his lips over mine, meeting my questioning eyes. "I'm just gonna get some water."

I frowned. Okay?

He grabbed his boxers off the floor, shimming them up his hips, throwing me a knowing grin as I followed his movements without blinking. He was still glowing. I could see the thin ring of light around him. My heart swelled painfully with the feelings I had for this man.

Be right back, he smiled, his teasing thought interrupting my own.

My answering smile was quick and distracted, and had him walk up to me, mold warm long fingers to my chin and place another soft kiss on my lips, before throwing me a departing wink. I watched him hurry out of the room. Excitement rolling off him like a child on Christmas morning.

As soon as his presence left the room, the energy in the room wilted. It felt dead and cold.

I laid down on my back, pulling the duvet close around my suddenly shivering body and looked up at the ceiling, my lips pursing in thought, as I absently searched through his mind. I was so deep in thought - in his thoughts - that his mental admonishment startled me.

Liz, stop eavesdropping.

I bit my lip to restrain my smile at being caught. I hadn't been conscious of monitoring his mind. It all came so naturally nowadays; my thoughts fluttered around in his head as easily as my own did in mine. Although, I still hadn't learnt all that hiding and filtering that he did. Which, to be honest, was a bit unfair.

If I hadn't felt his presence approaching, Max would have surprised - and probably scared - me. He always moved so quietly.

Brushing the door he had left ajar open, he switched on the lamp he just passed with his hand (the one I had just turned off with my mind) and put a glass of water on the nightstand. After lifting and moving the nightstand more to face the middle of the side of the bed - balancing the glass perfectly on top while doing so - he got back into bed and pulled me up into a seated position next to him.

The touch of his hands was delicious as he moved them around my hips, around my waist, across my shoulders, as he positioned me in front of the nightstand and the glass.

I looked at his excited face incredulously. "I probably could have sat myself here on my own, you know."

He winked at me, his mouth in a half-grin. "I know."

I slowly shook my head, but couldn't help but smile. It was amazing how much we needed to touch each other. Every chance we got.

With Max, I wasn't even bothered by the fact that I was completely naked while seated in front of that glass of water. I wasn't self-conscious in front of him any longer. He pulled on the comforter and wrapped it around my shoulders though, to fight off the chill of the night.

I stared at the water. "Aaand..? You want me to drink it, or what?"

His excitement was filling his mind to such a degree that I couldn't decipher his thoughts. I couldn't make out what his intentions were.

Max met my eyes, his face suddenly serious, as he said, "Make it boil."

I moved my tongue over my teeth in contemplation, before mumbling naturally, "Of course," and looked back at the water as if I had never seen a glass of water before.

"Whatever you just did to turn that light off, do it to the water. Make it move like you made the switch move."

I wasn't really sure exactly how I had made the light turn off. But I realized that Max was alluding to some kind of telekinesis. Moving things with your mind.

I couldn't see it like that though. That I was making things move without me touching them. Instead I visualized boiling water. My mental image of small bubbles repeatedly rupturing the water surface replaced the real image of the still cold water.

And within seconds, my visualization had become reality.

I stared at the glass as it boiled over, sizzling as the water hit the wooden surface of the night-stand.

Max cleared his throat, his voice barely a whisper, delivered with naked astonishment, "Okay." Then he waved a hand over the glass, making it immediately stop spurting heat, while he simultaneously moved off the bed, grabbed the nightstand and moved it back in position at the head of the bed.

Stopping in front of my stunned face, he coaxed me to look up at him, and said, "I want to do something else. But I don't want it to scare you."

I hesitated, his assumption about me becoming scared already making my heart flutter in anticipated fear and I breathed, "What?"

He searched my eyes, following every minuscule movement on my face, as he answered, "Heal me."

I paled, the comforter falling off my shoulders as I slowly rose to my knees, in attempt to line my face up with his. But as usual, he was too tall. "Are you hurt?"

My heart was pounding in my chest as I looked through both his mind and his body.

He gave me a gentle smile and shook his head. "Not yet."

I froze, my eyes widening in terror at what he was suggesting. "No..."

"Just a small one," Max said calmly. "Just a nick."

"No," I repeated, my mind seeing blood.

Max saw it too. He stepped close to me, flushing our upper bodies together and put his palm against my cheek as he tenderly looked down at me. I automatically leaned into it, my body trembling.

"You can do it," he whispered.

I couldn't. I'd always hated blood. Even before it had become a part of my everyday life. Even before I had watched it pour out between my fingers as I had pressed my hand against Max's stabbed chest.

He put his arms around me and pulled me into his warmth, pressing soothing lips to my forehead. I closed my eyes and tried to get my heart back under control.

"Is it important?" I whispered.

"If you can heal," Max said, "it means that we're sharing special abilities. And that would be..." he placed another kiss to my forehead, "...unheard of."

I shut my eyes tightly against it. On one hand I really wanted to be able to do it. It would mean that I had the power to actually help. That I could protect Max.

But on the other hand, it meant going through everything that Max was going through when he healed someone. Their pain, their distress. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that. If I was strong enough to shoulder that.

"I'm not signing you up for the medical team," Max whispered against my hair when my thoughts were jumping to enormous expectations. "Rome wasn't built in a day."

My fingers were digging into his back as I hugged him tighter. The solidity and size of his muscles had started to reform over the last couple of days. We were both eating better, getting back to our normal physiques and strength. I loved the solidity of his body, how the feel of him anchored me.

"Just a superficial healing. Bringing skin cells back together."

I took a deep breath. You really think I can do it?

I think you can rule the world if you set your mind to it.

"Hm," I huffed, but couldn't help to smile at his suggested thought. Pushing the memory of the metallic smell of blood to the back of my head, I nodded. "Okay."

He pulled back and looked me intently in the eyes. "I can heal it with a wave of my hand if it becomes too much, okay?"

"Don't brag," I breathed and he rolled his eyes at me, bent to give me a brief kiss and stepped away from me.

Out of the drawer in the nightstand, he produced a knife. I stilled at the sight of it.

He had a knife in our room?

"For protection," he answered, grim darkness to his voice. "So that you would be able to protect yourself. And in case my powers were immobilized."

Right, I thought. Still the sight of it unnerved me. I glanced around the room. What other weapons had he hid away?

He laughed quietly and shook his head at my musings.

"What?" I asked. "It's a legitimate question."

He didn't reply, instead grabbing my thick hoodie from the foot of the bed and handing it to me, "Put it on," because he had felt that I was cold even before I had.

I pulled the shirt over my head, pushed back my hair and pulled the comforter up over my legs while I silently watched Max put on a T-shirt and take a seat on the bed, opposite my cross-legged frame.

He held my eyes for a second, before diverting his attention to the knife in his hand. I kept my eyes on his face as he tightened his hand around the blade of the knife and slowly pulled. I swallowed at the wince crossing his features, feeling an odd heat in the middle of my own palm.

Max glanced at me, before placing the knife on the nightstand. Hiding the wound in his fist, he looked at me and asked, "You ready?"

I slowly shook my head, but answered, "I don't like you in pain, so..."

He smiled warmly at my concern. "This doesn't hurt, babe."

"You keep telling yourself that," I retorted, feeling the fresh burn (although small) of his wound through the connection.

The blood was already a bit smeared in the center of his palm, from him clenching his hand, and the sight of it made my breath hitch.

His eyes were on me the whole time, his unwounded hand on my knee underneath the duvet. "You're doing fine."

I inhaled deeply. "So how do I do this?"

"Well," Max exhaled slowly. "I do it by sending energy into the cells, motivating them to regenerate, to knit together. But you might be doing it differently. Considering how you seem to 'move things', you might just move the cells back together; close the gap."

So we do it differently?

"There's no right or wrong here, Lizzie," Max said. "Your mind works differently than mine. You have your own methods to solving problems."

I took a deep breath. "Okay."

Considering what Max had just told me, how he suspected my 'powers' (I snorted at the concept, ignoring Max's grin in response to that) worked, I figured that I didn't need to actually physically touch someone to be able to heal.

Still, I cupped my hands under his bleeding hand, cradling his large hand in my two smaller ones, and closed my eyes. I thought of the blood tainting his skin and visualized past it, seeing the small incision in his skin. Next I pictured the unnatural parting to his skin being pulling back together, much like one would pull on a zipper, the edges of the wound lining up, back to their original position.

I peeked one eye opened, almost as if I would destroy something if I looked too quickly.

Max was not looking at his hand, he was still looking at me, as he stated, "The pain is gone."

I frowned, looked closer at his hand, still smeared with blood, and distractedly mumbled, "I thought you weren't feeling any pain."

He ignored my comment. "Is it there?"

"You're still bloody," I whispered.

"But not bleeding?"

"I don't think so."

"Wait, let me see," he said and I leaned back to give him room.

He moved his healthy hand over his palm and the blood vanished, like magic. Next we both leaned forward, our foreheads brushing while looking closely at his hand.

In the center of his palm was a faint red line. But no open wound. The skin was completely closed.

I think I never had experienced Max's mind being so blank. Obviously, I had stumbled upon another, more literal, definition to being 'thoughtless'.

Still, I asked, "What are you thinking?"

"I..." he started, but his mind was still paused. Together we watched as he experimentally flexed and stretched out his palm, his fingers.

"I'm thinking..." he looked up and met my eyes with a smile, as fresh thoughts started to bloom out in his mind. "We should do some more experimenting."

I stared at him, not knowing if I should cry or laugh. But before I had a chance to choose either, Max had jumped off the bed and searched out pants for both of us.

"Get dressed, Parker."
I took me awhile to figure out why he was so elated. Why he was more excited than I had ever seen him.

Sure, it was pretty cool to watch billiard balls move by their (seemingly) own volition and make toast explode. But that couldn't be what excited Max. He was an alien, surrounded by other aliens with incredible abilities. There should be almost nothing he hadn't seen. Nothing that could surprise him.

He was so caught up in testing this and that, that I don't think he was aware of me quietly watching him. Being intrigued by his happiness and confounded by his exhilaration.

He had scoffed at his own healing ability when I had told him that it was an amazing gift. He had hated himself for erasing my mind, even if it had only been once. Max had an ingrained disgust for everything alien, including himself.

Yet, he was over the moon when I switched off a light with my mind.

But after awhile, it started to make perfect sense. It had nothing to do with me as a simple human being demonstrating alien traits. It all came back to his need to protect me. To keeping me safe. His need to build me up and make me believe in myself. The main reason for him being happy about this development, was that I could protect myself. That it was a testament towards me growing stronger.

No one would be able to push me around.

But also (as I later picked out from his thoughts), it gave him a sense of belonging, similar to what our bond signified for him. He didn't feel so odd, so weird. Not when I could do stuff that were considered 'odd' as well.

He was excited that we could be two oddballs together.

Our nightly antics had soon attracted every single tired (and slightly annoyed) inhabitant of the former hostel. Our experiments were not particularly quiet.

Each and every one of them had walked into the common room in a similar fashion; dragging their feet tiredly, yawning, and opening their mouths with the intention of audibly letting us know just how much they didn't appreciate our loud nightly activities.

But not a single one of them ever got a word out. They were either interrupted by exploding bread, by Max demonstrating energy blasts, by Max and I attempting to play pool with powers (him directing the balls with energy, me with my mind) or by Max loudly high-fiving me.

They all gravitated silently towards the couch, clad in different types of sleeping attires, and watched the show. We were not paying them much attention, to be honest; too caught up in our own world.

So caught up that none of us really noticed how much energy all of this was taking from me. How I was faltering.

Until Max suggested that I should mentally move a chair and I collapsed on the floor.


TBC...