Roswell Fanatics

Title: Time After Time: Endless Summer Fades (1570-1600)

Author: Selena

Rating: TEEN

Disclaimer: Roswell is the sole property of its owners. Romeo and Juliet is the sole creative property of William Shakespeare, etc. All quotes used will be specified and claimed as not my own.

Summary: It's 1595, and Maxwell Henslowe is a worker at the famous The Rose Theatre in Southwark, England. He keeps himself unnoticed, invisible. But one person notices him, and his innocent obsession with a certain daughter of a powerful Baron and Baroness. What happens when a man tries to help along a love that should not have been? He ends up inspired to write one of the most famous tragedies of all time.

Time After Time is a series of loosely linked stories throughout history. Each story will feature Max and Liz in a CC relationship. Most of the other pairings will be CC, but it is not required (meaning that mild UC is a possibility, but will be identified). Nor is pairing the other characters with anyone necessarily going to happen. The stories in this series can all be read independently, but will be connected by Max and Liz's relationship, and by one other trend. See if you can pick it out! The stories may end happily, or not. This is at the discretion of the author. The backstory in each fic might be different. These stories are not necessarily canon based. The events of the TV show Roswell are just another link in the time after time chain.

A/N: Thank you to Jo, max and liz believer, for the beautiful banner. Thank you to Fred for the ingenius idea for the challenge, I hope that you enjoy this and find it worth your time!!! *smooches* And an endless thank you to Kath7, who has gone through all the trouble to make us all a thread, to organize us, and to inspire us with her wonderful fic, Destiny's Circle, another part of the Time after Time circle. Lissa, my little beta, I miss you terribly, and I can't wait until you get back. Hopefully you'll enjoy this just as much.

Ok, here goes nothing... ::sighs::



Time after Time: Endless Summer Fades

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.” - Sonnet XVIII, William Shakespeare

ACT I. SCENE I:

Invisible.

It was a word that best described Maxwell Henslowe’s existence. Despite being the son of a businessman and one that owned a particularly well known Theatre in Southwark, Maxwell himself had never gotten involved in many of the great business ventures his father took on. He simply watched from the side, examining others as life went by, day in and day out.

It never bothered him so much, he generally kept busy at The Rose, building the sets to whatever new show would be playing, or tearing them down after they were over. He also managed to keep the place when his father was away, making sure there were no foul accidents and that it all remained intact.

But many usually wondered about him, asking his father why he had such a “strange boy”. His separation from the world was one reason why he appreciated his invisibility. Everyone knew he was the son of Philip Henslowe, but no one knew who he was. No one truly knew Maxwell Henslowe at all. And that was just fine by him.

In fact, being invisible had served as a protection. Maxwell very well knew that he had a secret that no one else could know about. That even if they knew, they very well could not believe. And blending into the background had allowed the privacy he needed to explore his secret and to try to figure out his place in life.

He smiled to himself as he hammered another nail to the wooden plank. It was ironic really, after finding out the true meaning of his existence, he had been compelled to laugh. The people who sent him had been smart. They had sent him and hid him in plain sight, among the generally common people of Southwark, England. Granted, his father was a reputable businessman, but the Theatre business was temporary at best, as new places opened up every few years, forcing others to shut down.

Now here he was, from what he understood in the writings, ancient royalty and yet he was standing in the sun, hammering together a replacement plank for one of the stage walls, as the world continued to pass him by. It was pure luck on his part, that Khivar had not come and annihilated him. Then again, he probably had no idea where he was hidden. Maxwell had always been so thankful for his invisibility. Until now….

His eyes drifted up as he placed the last part of the wall frame atop the stage floor. Thankfully, he would have it fixed in no time, and then he would get the supplies together to paint it. It was a warm day, warmer than he liked, but none of it seemed to bother him as he watched her.

She sat on the balcony, beneath the ceiling covers, hiding in the shadows. Her bright, green gown seemed to shine like a gem among the dusty theatre. Everything was brown or white or just seemed to look so plain. Even the bold colors of the stage walls seemed no match for the light that radiated off of her. And it wasn’t just her dress that seemed to light up the room, it seemed her whole being radiated a soft and pleasant glow, an aura that captivated him as he watched her.

She wrote calmly in a small leather bound book, tipping the pen into the ink pot. He didn’t know what possessed her to bring her writing out into the dusty confines of the theatre, but he was grateful for her muse, because everyday, past noon, he waited expectantly to see her again. It was like the sun didn’t even rise until past noon, until she sat herself up in the balcony, and started writing the mysterious words in her book.

It was days like that, days when he watched her from his spot on the stage, that he wished he wasn’t quite as invisible. When he wished she’d look down at him from her spot in the balcony above and smile, that beautiful smile that lit up the dim room and the dark places in his heart which seemed to have gotten lost on his journey to Earth. And then he’d remember that he wasn’t even from Earth, and his heart would sink and his eyes would drop back down to the stage. It simply could never be, a voice in his mind challenged. But his entire being seemed to think differently and it continued to look up, taking in the temptation hungrily.

“Good day, young Henslowe.” Maxwell looked up, startled out of his reverie. He smiled as he came face to face with the man who had been his father’s best investment yet.

“Good day.” He said politely, as the man looked up to follow his gaze toward the balcony.

“She truly is a sight, isn’t she?” Maxwell looked over and felt his ears heat up. Had he seen him staring? Did that mean that she knew he was staring as well?

“Who?” He asked, hoping to steer the conversation.

“Lady Bethany. You cannot tell me that you have not noticed her gracing the theatre seats. She is after all, the most pleasant thing to feast your eyes upon.”

Maxwell could not help but smile. At least he was not the only one enthralled by her beauty.

“Master Shakespeare, have you begun work on your new production?”

He watched amused as the man before him sighed. He had such an easy going way about him, and yet he was so truly passionate. Maxwell could not help but wonder if he even realized how complex a character he himself was, much like the people who graced the pages of his scripts.

“Unfortunately, the muses seem to have escaped me. Your father is demanding a new show in a few weeks time, and I cannot even get a basic premise done. I honestly am completely baffled by my creative darkness.”

“I’m sure it will come. Perhaps all you need is the right inspiration.” Maxwell smiled, and looked up toward the balcony one last time. She was packing up her supplies, right on time, ready to leave and live the luxurious life he was sure she was a part of.

“Why don’t you go and bid her a good day?”

“I could not, I have much work to do.” Maxwell shook his head vehemently denying that it was even a possibility.

“It would only take a moment. I’m sure she would appreciate the courtesy.” Maxwell looked up at her longingly, then his eyes drifted to the writer before him.

“I cannot Master Shakespeare, she seems to be rushed. But perhaps another day….”

“Carpe diem, young Henslowe. Today is the day.” With a little push, Maxwell found himself beneath the balcony stairs, as he heard the repeated thud against the wood and froze at seeing her appear directly before him.

“Good day, Lady Bethany.”

“Good day, Master Henslowe. Lovely job on the stage.” She said with a smile, as she looked at him innocently. Maxwell felt his stomach fall. This woman was bewitching. Her eyes were the richest brown he’d ever seen and it took all of his will not to let himself get lost in them.

“Do you need any assistance?”

“No, thank you. I will be heading home now. I cannot wait until the next production. Sir Shakespeare truly is a genius with his words. I expect great things from him.”

“Yes, since ‘Titus Andronicus’ we have been asked what his next project will be. I hope there will be something to report soon.”

“Well, good luck to you all. And good day.” Maxwell nodded as she walked out of the theatre and into the carriage awaiting outside the doors. He quickly exhaled the breath he was unaware of holding.

“See? Not so bad after all.”

Maxwell smiled at William, standing behind him with a grin. He turned around to face him and nodded.

“I suppose you’re right. Now I must get back to work. Feel free to sit and make yourself comfortable Master Shakespeare. As always, it is a pleasure speaking with you again.” Maxwell excused himself and headed toward the back room to get the paints for the wall. His head was stirring, much faster than he could care to stop it. He had spoken to her and she had known his name. Not only that, she had been kind and interested in the job he’d done on the stage. She must have seen him staring at her. He sighed in contentment. Carpe diem, he thought to himself. Shakespeare had been right, today was the day. And whether he knew it or not, he had made it one of the best days Maxwell had ever experienced.

<center>***</center>

William smiled as he watched Maxwell walk toward the back of the stage. He was obviously smitten. And William could not contain the excitement that was building within his stomach. There was something incredibly powerful about seeing the lustful dance of love in action, something that was always moving on a very internal level.

Maxwell was completely lost in her eyes, and Bethany De Parquee could not even see it. Partially, because she was enchanted, completely taken by the mysterious man that stood before her. Not that he could blame her, Maxwell Henslowe was one of England’s greatest mysteries. He was smart and kind, hard working and obviously incredibly shy. But his eyes always seemed to hold a secret, and he was the type of person most people could easily forget after one meeting.

Thankfully, William knew he was not most people. Maxwell had created a very deep impression on him, one that he found hard to wipe away. Maxwell had such a dignified air about him, like that of maturity and stature that were both way beyond his years. Strangely enough, he always envisioned him as a prince of sorts, an heir to wealthy family. A man of power and loyalty and full of passion. But what he didn’t understand was why Maxwell felt compelled to hide within himself at all other times.

It seemed to him the only time he ever saw the true man behind the mask was when he caught the secret glances toward Bethany, glances that spoke of deep feelings and battling emotions.

William smiled as an idea began to form in his mind. Perhaps he found the inspiration he needed after all.

A/N: Sorry for the wait! I just want to let you all know that I will be trying to post once a week, most likely Mondays. But there is a lot going on, on this end... RL trying to take over. Either way, I'll keep you all informed. Thanks again for reading.

ACT I. SCENE II:

The feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach had yet to subside. Bethany did not know why, but just being in the same room as the dark and mysterious Maxwell Henslowe sent her body into overdrive. She had been sitting in the theatre, writing again, when she’d felt the heat of his stare. She was thankful for the shadows that the balcony provided, because they helped hide the intense blush of her cheeks.

She knew he admired her, it was part of what brought her back every day. But she wondered if he could feel her watching him watching her. She smiled, their little game had a dizzying effect, but it put her on such a high that she nearly felt like she was flying.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the cushioned seat, as the deep, velvety sound of his voice replayed in her head. What had been so different about today that he’d felt compelled to approach her? She was not sure, but whatever the reason, she now had the imprint of his voice stamped into her brain.

He truly had looked gorgeous, working away; his skin glistened with sweat as his muscles tensed with each blow of the hammer. He was incredible to look at, with his rich, dark raven hair and eyes that spoke promises she didn’t dare acknowledge. But it was the way he had looked into her eyes, as if he were reading her inmost parts, revealing all the secrets she held close to her heart.

She sighed. She really had to stop her lustful trips to the theatre. She would soon run out of excuses to feed her parents. The carriage finally stopped and she stepped out, ready to go back to her life.

“Good day, Lady Bethany.”

“Good day.” She stated quietly, as she walked up the stairs and into the manor.

“Bethany, you’re home.” Her mother smiled at her arrival and she bowed her head slightly in recognition.

“Mother.”

“There is much to talk about! Come, sit my dear.” Bethany made her way into the reading room and sat on one of the couches. Her mother walked the room excitedly, unable to keep herself still for very long. Bethany watched her carefully, not taking her brown eyes away from her moving figure.

“Is everything all right?” She felt compelled to ask, when her mother did not fill the silence.

“Darling, you are at a prime age for marriage. Your father and I have been discussing the best arrangement for you.”

Or for you, Bethany thought darkly. She hated to be so negative; after all, she knew it was the way things had to be. But perhaps her mind had been filled with far too much of the romance she read in the novellas and saw on the theatre stages. Her being was aching for love, the love that she had seen materialize in the magical works, and that she heartily believed existed. The idea of joining with a man for sheer convenience made her feel… like property.

“A young gentleman has shown incredible interest, and has sent these in his behalf.” Bethany looked up as her mother handed her a bouquet of roses. They were lush and beautiful and pure white. How had he known they would be her favorite? She felt a sudden warmth flood her system. Perhaps the man would prove to be worth her time after all. “Lord Valentyne of London is greatly looking forward to meeting you and hopes that you will allow him the opportunity to woo you.”

“If you feel it proper that I allow his interests to advance, then I shall give the young gentleman a chance.” Bethany smiled as he mother kissed her forehead in an obvious sign of approval.

“Wonderful. We will arrange a proper day and time. Take heed my young Bethany, your life is just about to take flight.”

Bethany watched her mother leave with great interest. Her mind was working quickly. Perhaps she was right. This could very well be the exciting beginning of her life. She smiled as she looked into the mirror decorating the wall. Her hair was up in its usual fashion, pinned in several circles, keeping it looking proper and dignified. She reached up and pulled out the pins keeping it confined and watched with interest as her hair fell like cascading waterfalls. She liked the freedom of having it down against her neck and for a moment found herself fantasizing about a certain man’s hands traveling through its lengths. She shook her head quickly, trying to get rid of the image.

“Oh my, I really have to stop letting my mind wander.” She thought back to the flowers now lying on the table. A part of her wanted desperately to see if the man would prove to be as breathtaking as he seemed. But something in her heart argued. It seemed it had set its sights elsewhere.

She placed a few strands of hair behind her ears as she headed toward her bed chamber, to ready herself for supper. Before she could make it all the way up the stairs, she heard her name called, and ran down to meet the man at the door.

“Master Shakespeare, what an honor.” She said softly, as she smiled, inviting him in.

“I cannot stay long, Lady Bethany, but I have come to extend a warm invitation.”

“An invitation? Where to?”

“A dance that I will be holding in honor of my new production.”

“Then you have started it?”

“Yes, thankfully my muse offered me some very stunning inspiration.” He said with a smile that seemed to hold a secret meaning. She smiled in return, confused but excited by all of his news.

“I would love to come.”

“It is an invitation to your entire family; it will be held tomorrow a fore-night. I hope to see you there.”

“Absolutely.” She smiled as she closed the door behind him and ran toward her chambers. William Shakespeare was throwing a gala, and she was invited! She wondered if it was wrong that her first interest was to ask what the new production entailed, to ask to see a sampling of his magical words… she laughed at herself. She truly needed to find better things to do with her time.

“Marye!” She yelled as she opened the door.

“Bethany, why must you yell? I am here and I can hear your every word. Now quiet your voice and speak to me as a normal human does.” She smiled as she watched Marye place the final sheets upon her bed.

“William Shakespeare, the writer of ‘Titus Andronicus’ has invited my family to a dance! He has begun work on his new production for The Rose and I think he may want to present part of it at the gala!”

“That sounds like a true celebration, however, when is this all to take place?”

“Tomorrow, a fore-night.”

“I overheard your parents talking today, I believe Sir Kylenus Valentyne of London will be arriving this evening, in hopes to spend several days with you.”

“This evening?! Mother did not mention an arrival so soon.”

“Who knows why certain people do not do certain things, it is all a great mystery. It is what I heard, it is all I know.”

“But the dance…” Bethany lay on her bed, feeling defeated. She had been so excited by the promises that sort of magical evening held.

“Perhaps Lord Valentyne could accompany you to the dance.” Marye said, without looking up at Bethany as she gathered a dinner dress and new shoes. “After all, what better way to see what a man is made of than to see him interact with others?”

Bethany smiled. She absolutely loved Marye, not just because she took such good care of her, but because she always proved to be someone she could trust.

“How is Alexander?” Bethany inquired, as Marye finished the clothing selection.

“He is well. He will be traveling back from Spain soon. Then, from what I understood, he will try and audition a part in the new production.”

“Truly?” Bethany laughed at the idea of Alexander, one of their dearest friends, acting upon the stage.

“He seems to be convinced that he will play a debonair hero. I continue to remind him that the women roles are all still open for grab.”

They both laughed as Marye motioned for her to get up and stand beside the bed. It was strange, Marye was only 5 years older than Bethany herself, but she had been brought to serve as a hand maiden, and had become one of Bethany’s closest confidantes. She was wise beyond her years, and had proved to be like the siblings Bethany never had.

She removed the green dress, which Bethany had not noticed was full of dirt from her excursions, and placed the fresh, clean dinner gown on her body. She tightened the corset behind her and closed the infinite number of buttons on the back of the crimson gown.

“Playing with your hair again, I see. You have to let it sit; I refuse to continue to put it up, if you continue to insist on letting it down.” Bethany blushed, forgetting the hard work Marye did for her daily. She hated having her hair up against her head.

“Forgive me, I will not take your hard work for granted.” Bethany tried to fight back the smile as she said the words, knowing that in a few days time, she would again forget.

“Right, of course, and I am Queen Elizabeth. Now go, wash your face and be ready for supper.”

Bethany nodded dutifully and headed toward the wash room. She would ask Lord Valentyne to accompany her that evening, and he would say yes, she was sure, in order to please her. And perhaps they’d find a spark between them out in the open air while dancing to the music of the playing mandolins. Perhaps she’d fall in love.

Hey guys! I'm back! Sorry I don't have a regular schedule for this, but writing is sort of come and go, because I'm involved with a lot of other things. But fear not! I am getting them to you as fast as I can!

You all seem eager to see what will happen when Bethany and Maxwell meet at the dance... well, that's not til the next chapter! Ha, ha. Evil, I know. Thank you all so much for stopping by to read! I think this chapter will give you all a little insight as to what's going on. ENJOY!

ACT I. SCENE III:

William found himself up writing until the late hours of the morning. The word had quickly spread throughout the town when Lord Valentyne arrived at the De Parquee residence. He was there for what could only be one purpose. Business. And everyone in town was awaiting the announcement of the official engagement.

He wondered curiously what Maxwell was thinking, feeling, since he must have already heard the news. William thought of the information he’d gathered about the young Henslowe boy. He had only been seriously involved with one other woman, a certain Teresa Hardeville, whom everyone affectionately called Tess. It seemed, that at some point in their relationship though, he separated himself from her, emotionally and physically, causing her to run into the arms of a rich merchant in Venice. William couldn’t help but wonder if those were some of the secrets Maxwell harbored in his dark gaze, the fear that he held in his admiring glances of Bethany.

Either way, Kylenus Valentyne had come into the town making no qualms about his importance. He had wealth and power, even more so than the Earl and Countess De Parquee. He was sure that was part of the reason they liked the young man so much. Sure he seemed kind enough and had a good reputation among those in London. But William couldn’t help but wonder what Bethany thought of him and of his sudden arrival. He continued to pen the words that were flowing so easily to his fingertips.

He couldn’t help but look forward to the dance he had planned. Would the sparks fly? He thought back to earlier that day, at the longing looks directed toward the balcony, as if Maxwell’s very life had depended on Bethany’s existence. He penned the words and imagined them as if they were being said by Maxwell himself.

But soft! What light through yonder window breaks....?

He smiled, pleased with the images the words created in his mind. He wrote, nervously wondering what the next evening would bring.

<center>***</center>

Maxwell waited at the cave opening, looking around carefully to make sure there were no passing ships. It was dangerously close to the docks, and the water below was a common place for smugglers and lovers to hide within the shadows, beneath the caves. This particular cave was not visible to those on the outside, but he knew it was there, he’d been there before. He rubbed his fingers across the cover of the foreign book in his hands, thinking of everything it said.

He didn’t know how, but after enough attempts at trying to read it, one late night brought a sort of inspiration and answers he had been looking for. Little by little he began to recognize certain letters, certain words. Then the names accompanied by the people flashed in his mind. It was all beginning to make sense. He was Zan, leader of Antar and he was being sent to Earth as a protection from Khivar and his rebellious group trying to take over the Antarian government. But his mission was to return to Antar, according to the book, in something called a Granolith, which would provide just one trip. Maxwell only had two problems with that. One, he had yet to find the Granolith, and two, he was unsure how he would manage to leave Earth in a flying craft without being noticed by the millions of people who didn’t even know that kind of technology existed.

He sighed loudly when he heard the crumbling of rocks in the distance. He looked up quickly, squinting in the darkness to try and make out the figure of the shadow. He smiled as he finally recognized the person, and reached out as she put her hand in his and he pulled her the final way up to the cave.

“Isabelle.”

“Maxwell.” They hugged briefly and he placed his hand over the cave wall as a silver handprint appeared and it opened suddenly. They stepped inside quickly as the cave shut behind them.

“It’s been far too long.” He smiled, as he hugged her again.

“I’ve missed you too, Maxwell. Here, I cannot stay long. I found Tess in Venice and she gave me the pendant she found. Her husband is a dealer, a trader of exotic goods. He traded it with some sailors, but she did not know where it was originally from.” He examined the pendant carefully, looking down at the whirlwind symbol shining against the black background. “How are Mother and Father?” She asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

“They are well. Father talks only wonderful things about his beautiful and wealthy daughter.”

“I am not wealthy, I am simply married to a wealthy man.”

“And how is Lord Ramesey? Treating you well, I presume?”

“A perfect gentleman, I am truly happy.” She said with a smile.

“When will you be coming back to visit?” He asked, not afraid to admit how much he truly missed her because hiding such a large secret on his own proved to be exhausting.

“During your next production, I will be watching from one of your best seats.” He smiled and nodded in response. “I really must go, James will be back from Italy tonight and I have to be home before he is. What have you found about the Granolith?”

“Absolutely nothing. I am truly beginning to think they did not send it with us after all. Or worse, that someone has gotten to it before we have.”

“You think that is truly possible?”

“If Khivar has followed us to Earth, it is very possible that he found it first.”

“How would he get here without word getting to us about a craft being sighted?”

“Well, that brings me to my next point. I am beginning to think that we were not sent by means of a spaceship at all.”

“Really?” She asked full of genuine curiosity.

“Now, I have to try and find out how we got here. After that, I can keep trying to figure out what to do.” He kissed his sister’s cheek softly. “Get home safe.”

She nodded and they both headed out of the cave. Maxwell looked back one last time, as the rock closed behind them. He would figure it out in time. As for now, he had other things to think about. Like the dance he would be attending.

Part of him jumped with excitement when William had asked him to join his gala. After all, he didn’t know why, but he always felt incredibly comfortable around him, as if he truly understood him on a very primal level. Obviously he would never know the truth about who Maxwell was, but it seemed that out of everyone he’d ever met, William understood him the best.

Then, he’d mentioned that the Earl and Countess De Parquee would be there with their daughter. Maxwell was not certain, but he thought he saw a smirk on William’s face after he’d said those words. And now, despite every bit of his head telling him it was a bad idea, he had already resolved in his heart to be there, if only to see her face again.

He finally reached Southwark as he walked the dark, cobblestone roads toward his home. He passed the De Parquee manor and stopped, looking toward the windows lit by candles. She was in there, just a few feet away. He sighed loudly.

What good could possibly come of indulging in his feelings for her? Even if she were to return them, it could never be. For many reasons, other than the most obvious, he was of a completely different species. Then of course, there was the social difference. Bethany was the daughter of a wealthy Earl, people of high political positions and of old family wealth. He was the son of a struggling businessman. It not only could not happen, it would be greatly frowned upon if it did.

He shook his head, as he saw a shadow walk past a window.

“Why have I been sent here?” He whispered softly, as he watched her, with strands of hair falling loosely on her back. He knew he should not be so attached. That it would only make returning home harder. But ever since he’d laid eyes on Bethany De Parquee Maxwell had found himself at a loss. He found himself wondering what it would be like to be fully human, to be one of the knights or lords to hold her attention. More than anything else, he found himself despising who he was and wishing desperately he could change it. He sighed again, as the candle was blown out in the window, leaving only darkness.

“Goodnight.” He whispered into the night air as he headed home.

Ask and ye shall receive! Actually, you have all been wondering what happens when Bethany and Maxwell actually meet up at the dance... well, here it is.

ACT I. SCENE IV:

Bethany could not help the excitement running through her.

“Are you sure this dress is suitable?” she asked desperately, as she looked into the mirror again, while Marye finished the buttoning of the back.

“You look absolutely stunning.”

“Really?” Bethany turned quickly, as she noticed Marye’s exasperated expression.

“You honestly could not look any more radiant without seeming completely otherworldly.”

She smiled. Marye always had that effect on her.

“Very well, I will tell you all about it when I return.” She hugged her friend tightly and headed toward the door with one last look at the mirror. “By the way, my hair looks wonderful tonight.” She winked and left the room as she headed toward the main hall.

Lord Valentyne stood turned away from her, a long cape covering his back. He turned around slowly at hearing her enter, and she smiled, admiring his beauty. His dark hair was slicked back and his bright blue eyes were shining through, despite the shadowed room.

“You look stunning.”

She laughed at the irony. She looked like the good to his evil. He was dressed all in black, she had on a white gown with silver trimmings. Her hair was up in curls, with the white roses decorating the dark strands, and a hair clip in the shape of a butterfly.

“As do you,” she whispered, bowing her head to avoid showing how truly blushed her cheeks were.

“Shall we go?” he asked and she looked around, searching for her parents. As if on cue, they walked into the room, dressed in their best.

“Let’s.”

They headed out into the cool night and stepped into the carriage. Her stomach was turning with excitement. She looked out and noticed the bright full moon shining above. It was a particularly clear night, perfect for dancing and romance.

After a short ride, she could see the bright lights decorating the patio. It was a fairly good sized space, and it was closed off by beautiful pillars, covered in greenery and decorated with statues. The torches were set around the area, lighting it along with the moonlight. It truly looked like a place from the imagination. But what truly captivated her was the music that filled the air and traveled to her very carriage. She closed her eyes, letting it embrace her with the cool breeze, enjoying the soothing sounds of the guitars and mandolins.

They stopped and Kylenus exited, holding his hand to help her out of the carriage. He really was quite the gentleman, she noted, but her mind and heart had already left him. She was busy examining the scenery before her. She breathed in deeply, hoping to calm her nerves. She didn’t know why, but something within her was buzzing with excitement. Something big was going to happen; she could feel it in her bones.

They walked in and were greeted by a hostess, who offered them a variety of fruits and cheeses on a table to the side and then pointed toward another table full of goblets.

“There is also wine and brew,” she stated simply, as they continued into the space, taking in all that was happening.

Bethany walked slowly, separating herself gradually from her family. She eyed the colorful gowns, the beautiful people, and the smiling faces. It was obvious everyone was enjoying themselves.

Then, her eyes fell upon a pair she had not even noticed had been watching her. She was immediately lost in the depths of hot amber, that were flickering in the torch lights. He looked nothing like he had the morning before, sweaty and unkempt, with his shaggy hair wild and tousled. Now, he stood in his best clothes in hues of black and crimson, his hair combed still, a day of stubble covering his beautiful face.

She gasped, startled by his beauty.

“How about a dance?” She heard suddenly behind her, and she jumped, turning quickly to face Kylenus.

“That would be lovely.”

She smiled and placed her hand in his as he turned her into the floor for their dance. She followed his moves slowly; turning, spinning, stepping closer, and stepping apart. But she couldn’t resist letting her eyes linger toward the man in the shadows. She could still feel him staring, and she wanted desperately to be able to see what he held in those dark eyes.

“You seem distracted.” She looked up suddenly, startled by Kylenus’ voice. She had nearly forgotten he was there.

“Forgive me, the music seems to take me away,” she whispered and looked down, hoping to avert the lie in her eyes.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he questioned curiously, and she nodded. He really was trying. How could she explain that her heart had been lost to him before he even started?

“I know at times I may not be the most… eloquent. But I do want you to know that I truly admire you. For your intelligence, your beauty, and your spirit. I hope that I will get the chance to show you how much… Bethany.”

She cringed inwardly at the use of her name. It seemed so incredibly private coming off of his lips.

She nodded politely, unsure of what to say. How was she supposed to react to such earnest efforts? He was sweet, not completely in touch with his romantic side, but knowing very well that the efforts were both necessary and appreciated. She sighed. Could she learn to love this man?

The music slowed and Kylenus excused himself with a soft kiss to her hand, and then headed toward the wine table and began to chatter with the group of men gathered there. She smiled and headed toward one of the pillars, leaning her body against it and closing her eyes to take in the sounds of the night.

The sudden feel of hot flesh against her hand shocked her, and she looked down to see fingers intertwined with hers. The electricity flowing between them was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Strangely enough, before she turned to face him, she knew who it was. If she listened carefully, she could hear his nervous breathing to the left of her, as she imagined he was leaning up against the other side of the pillar, holding her hand closely.

“I have heard stories of dark angels that only appear at night and grant wishes to those they watch over.”

She shook her head softly. What kind of conversation was she building?

“If I am a dark angel, then you are truly the goddess of light, and I fall to my knees before you.”

Her heart skipped, and she tightened her eyes, trying to control her body’s desperate reaction.

“A goddess I could never be, because I am far too in love with the darkness of night.”

“Then the goddess of the moon you must be, because you shine upon the darkness and lord over it with your light.”

She breathed in deeply and opened her eyes, wanting nothing more than to turn and face his golden depths.

“We cannot.” He said suddenly, a hushed whisper, as if cursing himself for his actions. “You cannot turn and face me. I am invisible Lady Bethany, and it is how I must remain.”

“You are not invisible,” she whispered as she leaned her head toward him. “I see you.”

“Do you? I do not think anyone can truly see me. I am a dark angel… but I do not grant wishes. I simply hide in the darkness.”

She felt a piece of her heart break. The sadness in his words tore at her insides. Without thinking she turned suddenly, coming face to face with his beautiful eyes. His glare proved to be much more than she could handle. Every part of her was on fire, calling to this man to burn out her flames.

“Then come and I will shine my light upon your darkness,” she whispered the words, as his hands traveled up to her face slowly. Her heart was racing. Every inch of her skin was alive. The minute both hands reached her cheeks, she felt a sudden pull. Nothing of a physical nature, but it was as if her brain were opening up, and images were flooding in.

They came in flashes of light and were brief, but she could see herself, and she could feel the intensity of the emotion building within her. Somehow, she knew that this man thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And something within her came roaring to life.

Even after his hands left her face she stared into his eyes. She could not believe the stirring of emotions going on inside of her. What was she feeling?

“Bethany.” The voice seemed to come from so far away. Her eyes were still glued to the man who held so many deep secrets, so much hidden pain, and so much passionate love.

“Your husband calls.” His deep voice stated in a hushed whisper. It was resigned… defeated. She snapped out of her trance as she realized how suddenly chilly it felt against her cheeks, without his warm hands upon them.

“My what?”

“Bethany?” She turned around and spotted Kylenus searching for her through the crowd. Before she could respond, she turned again to face Maxwell, and realized that he was gone. Her face wrinkled in distress. “Where were you?”

“Here… I was here.”

“Another dance, perhaps?”

She sighed; she had already done a dance, a frustrating emotional dance and her partner had suddenly disappeared.

“Of course.”

She reached her hand in his and sighed in relief at hearing the tune. It was a traditional dance, where they placed their hands together, palm to palm and spun and bowed. It was repetitive enough so that she wouldn’t really have to think about it much.

She went over the steps in her head, as she started following them to the music. The guitars strummed freely through the night and she looked around, suddenly wondering why she hadn’t seen Master Shakespeare. Before she could process the thought, she was on to another hand, and she looked up and greeted the stranger with a smile. They danced, they bowed, they danced and twirled and off she was to yet another hand. This continued on quite pleasantly as she looked for him, and finally found him coming from within the dimly lit home, a stack of papers in his hands. She looked up and noticed the candle burning in one of the windows. Had he been watching? Had he seen her?

She spun again and when she felt the current in her hand, her head shot toward the direction of the man beside her. He was looking away and down, with one arm held against his back. He bowed, they spun, she bowed, they spun. Then, they switched hands. The feel of his palm against hers was still unbelievably numbing.

“Ladies and gentleman, thank you so much for coming this evening.” Everyone stopped as the music slowed and then silence filled the air. William Shakespeare stood in the entry path of the patio and smiled at his guests. “This here is a celebration of life, music, and love. I have started work on my next production.”

The sound of the crowd’s whispers seemed to sweep through like a wave of the ocean. Bethany smiled. This was the moment she had been waiting for. She was startled to feel a body beside her, and when she looked back, she saw the bright blue eyes looking down at her playfully.

“You’re quite the dancer,” he whispered. She shook her head and smiled. Kylenus truly was pleasant to be around.

“It is about two young lovers, from feuding households, whose love seems destined to fail. I cannot say much more, for it would ruin the remainder of the story, but I was hoping, perhaps to have someone do a sampling of it, this evening.”

She felt her energy swirl within her. She was going to see magic come to life. For the second time that evening.

“Maxwell Henslowe, would you be so kind as to read off some lines?” Everyone turned to face him, including his father.

“Me, Master Shakespeare? I am not an actor.”

“But it is you I trust with these lines, only you can deliver them the way they should be said. Just this once,” William promised quickly, obviously recognizing how uncomfortable he was. Maxwell opened the pages and looked down at the passage William was pointing at excitedly.

Bethany watched him carefully, as his ears turned a deep red. She felt his anxiety and wished she could place her hand on his shoulder to soothe him.

“O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!,” he started, slowly and carefully looking over each word.

“It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night, like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!” She noticed when something registered on his face, and the words suddenly went from being written on the page to being his own.

“So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, and, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.” She could nearly close her eyes and be lulled to paradise by the sound of his rich voice. The words seem to flow off of his lips like pure, intoxicating honey. She watched as he raised his head, his eyes meeting hers with no walls. He was handing his heart to her with his words.

“Did my heart love till now?” he whispered softly, as she felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.”

Time stopped. Bethany could not breathe. She reached her hand up to her mouth to stop the tears that threatened to make a mess of her. He had looked directly at her when he’d said those words, directly into her eyes. And the memory of the feelings aroused from his touch returned. She didn’t understand what happened, but she knew one thing. They were now inexplicably connected.

A/N: Aww, you guys, thank you sooo much! All of your words are soo incredibly sweet! I'm so glad that you're enjoying this!!!

nickimlow, it was totally like phantom of the opera. lol I love that play!

BelevnDreamsToo, if I were Bethany, i'd be a puddle of goo on the ground. How she's still standing if beyond me.

ISLANDGIRL5, so glad that you've joined us! Can't wait to read what you've got going on your TAT fic!

There is more, of course! What happens after the magical dance?

ACT I. SCENE V:

Maxwell came out of the house and back onto the patio as the torches dimmed, burning out slowly into the night. He watched as the kitchen staff continued to clean and wipe down the tables. His eyes drifted through the empty area, resting on one of the pillars. If he closed his eyes he could see her there, still feel the small bundle of heat in his hands.

“What a night.” He turned at the sound of the voice, to see William standing beside him.

“Those words, you had me read them; can you really see all that when I look at her?” William continued to look ahead, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“I can, because I watch, I pay close attention. Not everyone can see the way cupid flies around the both of you, forming an endless dance. But when you look into each other’s eyes, it’s as if the entire world drifts away.”

William now turned to look at Maxwell, whose eyes had become focused on an object ahead. His profile was lit by the torches, shadows from the flames bouncing across his face. William wondered if he even knew that he stood like royalty, his hands behind his back, his head up in deep thought. Where could he have come from?

“It can never be,” he finally whispered, and lowered his head to look down at his feet.

“And why on Earth would you say that?” William asked curiously, his brows furrowing in confusion. Bethany was taken with him, wrong or not. He had seen it in her eyes tonight and knew that she would be willing to explore whatever Maxwell had to offer, even with Lord Valentyne so dangerously close at hand. So what stood in his way?

“My fate is written in the stars, the evil stars that have damned me to this life. Like it or not, there is nothing I can do. She and I can never be.”

“I never took you to be one who was ruled by kismet.”

“It is far more complicated than I could even explain….” Maxwell trailed off quietly and William couldn’t help but sigh in return.

“Your destiny is what you make of it Maxwell, do not let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“But she’s….”

“She is a woman, a woman who feels flattered by your admiration and who is fascinated by the enigma that is Maxwell Henslowe. Would you deny her the chance to explore that?”

Maxwell felt his entire body go warm. If Bethany felt compelled to explore it… to explore him… well, he would be unable to deny her and himself the pleasure.

“Listen to me Maxwell, so, your stars do not cross paths. But there are shooting stars, and no one ever knows quite where they fall. Put yourself in her path… we only live once, you may forever regret it if you do not explore where this could lead.”

Maxwell raised a brow at his comment. He couldn’t help but smirk, after all, what did William know about aliens? If he’d only known, Maxwell had not only lived before, but was pretty certain he had lived countless times. He shook the thought from his head and sighed. The man did have a point, despite it all. What if he never met a woman who stirred him like Bethany? Would he regret it for the rest of his life?

“I must go, it really is getting late,” Maxwell stated as he turned to look at William. He nodded in response and placed his hand on Maxwell’s shoulder.

“I’d really like it if you considered playing Romeo in my production.”

Maxwell felt his stomach stir.

“I really do not think I could….”

“Think about it, please.”

Maxwell nodded, and turned away, leaving William behind in the lit patio. He walked the dark streets, deep in thought.

He had generally wondered why he was sent here, out of all places on Earth. England was a largely populated area, but so were so many other places. And out of all England, why would he be there, at arms length to a woman who had captured his attention since childhood?

Part of him had always wanted to believe it was in some way part of a bigger plan. But he knew better. He knew that it was merely chance that had brought him this close to Bethany, and chance that also kept them apart. William’s words rung in his head.

Put yourself in her path… we only live once, you may forever regret it if you do not explore where this could lead.

Maxwell stopped before the De Parquee manor, frozen in place, watching the windows quietly. He strolled toward the side, the scent of blossoms attacking his nostrils. He had never seen the lively garden that adorned the side and back of the manor, with flowers of every color and ivy covering the sides of the walls. He passed under an old tree and stopped, unable to move at seeing her, standing on her balcony, still in her white gown and glowing white against the dark night.

She looked like a magical fairy, with the flowers in her hair blending into the flowers all around. She looked down, a loud sigh escaping her lips. He closed his eyes as he leaned up against the trunk. He was so close, did he dare?

“What am I going to do? What am I even feeling?” He heard, as his eyes drifted up to meet her beautiful face. She was distressed. She looked up toward the moon, as if confiding in it wholly. “Why is the only thing on my mind the feeling of his hand burning up against mine? The way he looked into my eyes and whispered softly into my hair? Is it wrong that there was such a large measure of guilt running through my system when he said ‘your husband calls’? Because in all honesty, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him in that instance…”

“If I had allowed myself the pleasure of kissing your sweet lips, I may never have recovered from that one moment.”

He watched as her startled expression turned down, and he stepped out of the shadows.

“What… what are you doing here?” she asked, looking back toward her room and then back down to face him. Her eyes betrayed her emotions, a mixture of nervous excitement and worry.

“My mind was directing me home, but my heart led me here… it seems my feet just followed.”

He smiled slightly, taking another step closer to the balcony. She leaned over, a smile now changing her expression. He sighed inwardly, amazed at how her smile lit up her entire being. She truly sparkled, an angelic figure in the dark night.

“You know we cannot… do this,” she stated, a soft whisper, never once taking her eyes off of his.

“I do,” he whispered in return, unable to separate himself from her burning gaze. He took another step until he was at the very bottom of the balcony, one hand on the stones and fencing, ready to climb up.

“If they find you… oh, I fear what they would do if they found you.”

“I understand.”

“We should not do this…”

“But….” He stated for her, as his body seemed to fly up, and she kneeled down, her face finally level to his.

“But I cannot stop the images that are playing in my mind. The feelings that are suffocating in my system, feelings I know well are not mine, and yet, now I wonder if they could be….”

“Bethany,” he nearly whispered, his face now inches from her own. He watched her expression, how it went from pleased to burning in an instant. She held desire in her eyes.

“Who are you Maxwell?” The question caught him off guard. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, perhaps a different question, and some declaration of love or hatred, even a kiss. Instead, he was quickly reminded of who he was not. Of what he was not.

“I am but your humble servant,” he stated, lowering his eyes from her questioning gaze. He was stunned when he felt her fingers on his face, one hand on his cheek, the other pulling up his chin, making his eyes level with hers once again.

“No, in my eyes you are the closest thing to perfection. A demi-god who is somehow still allowed to walk the Earth. You look down to no one.”

“Bethany…”

“You hold something… magical in your soul. I do not know who you are or where you come from Maxwell, but I know that it is not something to be ashamed of. You’re beautiful.”

Maxwell could have laughed at the irony. Wasn’t it really his job to say those words? How had she suddenly read through him so clearly?

“You saw them too, that’s what you speak of,” he said, suddenly understanding.

“The visions? Yes, I did.”

“I am truly sorry, I never meant….”

“Is that how you truly see me?” she asked suddenly, as his eyes flew up to meet hers. He smiled softly, realizing what she must have seen, felt.

“You are the very thing that has been haunting me. The reason I am beginning to worry I will not complete my mission.”

“Mission? I do not understand,” she stated, as he finally jumped over the balcony and stood beside her. They stood in that position, in silence, for a moment. He struggled with the internal demons, as they seemed to have a tight grasp on his neck. He could not speak, he could barely breathe. Was he ready to share such a massive secret?

“I am different,” he started slowly, choosing his words carefully, in order to retract them if it were necessary.

“I know. I think I’ve known that since the very first time I laid eyes on you Maxwell Henslowe.”

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, his will beginning to break.

“No, I don’t pretend to understand. This thing that sits between us, this secret, it is part of our connection.”

He smiled sadly; she truly had a keen mind.

“Yes.”

“Show me,” she stated simply, as she stepped closer to him, her body pressed against his. He swallowed hard, unable to think. This would change everything, but the pleading in her eyes left him no choice.

You may forever regret it if you do not explore where this could lead.

He took a deep breath and nodded. He had wanted nothing more than to touch her; he had fantasized about it countless times. Now, he stood before her, and he did not know what to say or do.

“I must touch you,” he whispered softly as she nodded and he reached his hands up to her face, letting his fingers run through her hair. He watched, amazed as a few petals fell down his hands and onto the floor beside them. He looked down into her eyes, the eyes that were looking up so trustingly into his own. Before he could think, the connection was roaring to life, as he found himself tangled in a mass of memories and emotions, all of the beautiful woman before him. Sadness, happiness, frustration all mingled with a deep sense of loneliness filled him. Had she truly felt so alone?

He felt a sudden attack on his stomach as he realized the butterflies were her own. He watched as she looked into his eyes at the dance, and they both found themselves completely lost in each other. He shuddered. Something about this woman was opening up parts of him he never knew existed. He felt himself coming to life, as feelings and emotions surfaced that he’d never allowed himself to feel before.

When their connection finally broke, she simply stared at him in awed wonder.

“I should go.”

“Why?” she whispered, not breaking their contact.

“Because if I do not, things will change,” he whispered, his breath mingling with hers.

“Change?” she nearly laughed. “My entire world has been turned upside down. Everything has changed.”

Then he did what he had been fighting with himself not to do. He leaned in and placed his lips on hers. The initial contact was like the sparking of a new flame, and then it deepened, like warm fire in his blood. He pulled away, trying to think, trying to catch his breath. Everything seemed so muffled, so completely unreal.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life and finally, I found the piece I was so desperately searching for,” she whispered into his mouth and kissed him again, leaving him breathless. He pulled away quickly, as sounds began stirring within the manor.

“I must go.”

“I know,” she stated desperately, as she watched him climb off of her balcony. He leaned up and placed a final kiss on her lips.

“Good night,” he said softly, as he continued down.

“Wait!” she said, louder than she’d intended. She bent down, calling out to him. “When will I see you again?”

He thought for a moment, his mind a dazzle of emotions. He climbed back up and removed an item from his neck. He looked at it carefully, and reached up, placing it over her head.

“Tomorrow, past noon, at the theatre,” he smiled, as she looked down at the pendant.

“Goodnight,” she said; a playful smile and low laughter traveling to his ears. He ran toward the tree and then turned back, one last time.

“Bethany!”

She looked back toward her chambers and then back down at his face.

“Thank you.”

He watched as she expressed the confusion at his words.

“For what?” she asked playfully.

“For really seeing me.”

Her smile widened until it looked like a replica of the shining moon. He turned and ran, knowing full well that despite his best efforts, he would be unable to sleep that night.

Thoughts were fleeting as he sighed loudly, unable to contain the madness he was feeling. Every part of him was buzzing, alive and alert, like it had never been. He looked down, startled to see a blue light shining softly from his hands. His eyes widened. Was it possible that she awoke in him a primal alien instinct? He stopped suddenly, eyeing them carefully. They slowly faded as he gathered his breath.

He tried to think over the events of the night. But there was only one true explanation. His connection with Bethany somehow opened up a whole new strength in him. His powers were strong, stronger than they’d ever been. Which meant now, he had to work harder to keep them hidden. He walked until he reached his home, sighing to himself as he closed the door behind him.

What would Isabelle say? Or Michael? He shook his head, startled at his rashness. He had not once stopped to think. He had simply been too overwhelmed in everything that was Bethany De Parquee. And now, even with reality settling in, he smiled.

He was in love. He would deal with the consequences in the morning.

A/N: THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR KIND WORDS! You have all truly said some beautiful things to me! Thank you, thank you!!! *HUGS*

Now, on to Act 2.

“Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines;
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed.” - Sonnet XVIII, William Shakespeare.

ACT II. SCENE I:

Bethany could barely open her eyes, afraid that it would all have been a dream. Was it possible that she had fallen so deeply in love in just a matter of hours? It had been so sudden, so strong, and there was a fabulous sense of magic that accompanied it.

Who was Maxwell Henslowe? A witch? No, there was far too much darkness associated with that word. An angel? Yes, she could very well believe he was. An angel that fell from the skies and into her life.

She smiled as she rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Life suddenly seemed incredibly exciting, and the prospect of this new day was beyond what Bethany could bear.

“Awaken, darling Bethany! The sun is up!” The curtains suddenly flew open as sunlight poured into the dim room, causing it to come to life. Bethany sat up and closed her eyes, welcoming the sun’s warmth.

“Good morning, Marye!”

Marye looked behind her, as she stopped gathering the clothing for that morning. There was something about her expression that made Bethany laugh.

“Have I never before said good morning?” she asked.

“It is strange, your disposition, it is as if something within you has changed.” Marye stepped forward, studying her carefully.

“Oh, but is has! Something incredible happened last night,” she smiled, unable to stop the feeling of euphoria that was still traveling the entire length of her body.

“He has wooed you,” Marye stated, clearly frozen in place. Bethany’s smile shifted to a smirk, as she pressed her eyebrows together in mock confusion.

“Who do you speak of?” she asked playfully.

“Play not with my emotions, child! What did he say?” Marye sat quickly upon the bed, and looked up at Bethany expectantly. But she could only fall back upon her bed, closing her eyes, to allow herself another preview of his face.

“It was what he did not say that took my breath away.”

“You are speaking in riddles,” Marye said frustrated, as she raised a questioning eyebrow.

“It is because I cannot think, he has enraptured me and I am completely lost.”

“Well, it is wonderful to see you responding so positively to Lord Valentyne, I was afraid for a moment….”

“Lord Valentyne?” Bethany asked, as her eyes opened, and she sat up abruptly. It was as if she had forgotten he existed all together. How was she supposed to avoid him and his attempts at wooing her? A sudden frown covered her face, as she bit her lower lip in thought. She had been so lost in her feelings; she had failed to think of the current problem.

“Bethany, who else could you possibly be speaking of?” Marye asked carefully, and suddenly her friendly eyes felt like burning daggers, questioning, exploring every inch of Bethany’s worried face.

“No one… I was speaking of no one.” She stood up quickly, hoping to escape the enclosing walls. But Marye was behind her quickly, her hands gripping her arms and turning her to face the green depths of her eyes.

“What have you done?” Marye asked accusingly, and Bethany looked up suddenly, indignation clouding her thoughts.

“I have done nothing wrong! I have fallen in love! It is no crime!” Bethany cried, realizing it was more for herself than for Marye.

“Oh, dear God,” Marye whispered, as she slowly led Bethany back toward the bed. “Who is he?”

“It does not matter now….”

“Bethany,” Marye stated firmly and Bethany felt she had no choice.

“Maxwell Henslowe,” she nearly whispered as her eyes dropped to the floor.

“Philip Henslowe’s son? From the theatre?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Bethany, you know very well that this could never be….”

“And why not?!” Bethany felt a rush of tears clouding her eyes. Why was she trying so desperately to ruin the glorious mood she’d risen with?

“Lord Valentyne is here for your hand in marriage, Bethany; you must know that this cannot continue….”

“But I love him!” She looked up into her dear friend’s eyes, pleading. “Have you ever been in love, Marye?”

“I am afraid not.”

“I cannot breathe if I am not near him. Maxwell Henslowe has put a force on me. It is like my entire life has changed in an instant.”

Marye’s hand reached up to touch her arm consolingly.

“Love has nothing to do with this union, Bethany.”

“It should!” she stated quickly, breaking the tender moment. “My feelings should matter.”

“I am sorry.” And she could tell from the deep sadness in her eyes that Marye was being completely honest. Somehow, that hurt deeper. Bethany knew she was right, and still, she could not resign herself to accept it. Fate could not be so cruel as to allow her to find the man she loved and then keep them apart.

Bethany sighed loudly. She wanted the light headedness that came with being near him. And then she remembered, she had to see him at noon!

“I must be ready, I have to go.” She stood up quickly, gathering the clothes that Marye had set out for her.

“Where to?”

“The theatre.”

Bethany started to remove her nightgown, as she simultaneously tried getting into the other dress. Marye hesitated a moment, and then walked over, helping her into the garment.

“Bethany, you cannot go. Lord Valentyne is awaiting your presence for breakfast.”

She felt her hopes begin to shatter.

“And after?”

“A promenade in the garden.”

“Can you tell them I am ill?” Bethany turned around, desperately hoping for some answer to her troubles. Marye’s green eyes were troubled, and she looked at her worriedly. She hadn’t met Maxwell yet, hadn’t been captivated by his silent beauty and powerful gaze. Perhaps after they met, she would understand.

“They will ask to see you.”

“Then, I am not fit to see visitors,” she replied quickly.

“I will not help you lie.”

“Then go in my place.” She was startled by the words even as she said them.

“And what could that accomplish?”

“Please,” she begged earnestly. “Marye, I need you to tell him I have been detained. I do not think I can live with myself if he thought I did not want to see him again.”

“Bethany, I am afraid for you.” Marye’s eyes looked worriedly into her own, and she managed a smile.

“What is there to be afraid of? I am in love Marye!” There was a loud sigh and finally, Marye looked up, with a final decision in her eyes.

“What shall I tell him?” she conceded, as she went about wrapping Bethany’s hair and pinning it up.

“Tell him that I have been detained, and if there is any other time or place we could meet.”

“Very well, just know that I strongly disapprove.”

“Once you meet him, I am quite certain you’ll change your mind.” Bethany smiled and hugged Marye, and then headed down toward the dining room.

Her stomach was in knots. The truth was, she was already completely lost in Maxwell, and having to face Lord Valentyne was unnerving. Would he be able to read her treacherous heart?

She stopped in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. She imagined what Maxwell saw when he looked at her, and a flutter of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She smiled, loving how it made her feel like a goddess. Poor Lord Valentyne had no chance.

“Good morning.”

The deep voice startled her, and she turned, to see the bright blue eyes looking at her curiously.

“I thought I heard you. Join me for breakfast?”

“Of course,” she said with a smile, as she followed him into the dining hall. He pulled out her chair, and she sat down, waiting as he made his way to his seat. The room smelled of fresh flowers, which had been cut and placed in a vase on the table near the entrance.

“Did you enjoy yourself at the dance?” He looked up at her, and the bright hope that was shining in his blue eyes made Bethany’s stomach sink.

“Yes, I had a lovely time.”

“I suppose this is as good a time as any to tell you, I will be staying until the end of the week, and I hope when I leave, to have your confirmation of marriage.”

“Marriage?” she asked with wide eyes, as she felt her throat get thick. He stood up, and walked toward her, kneeling before her, as her eyes came down onto his face.

“The truth is that we are good for each other, Bethany, we are the same. Tell me, do you think you could love me?”

She felt the intense blush rise from her chest straight up through her neck and onto her cheeks.

“It is all so sudden,” she said, realizing the irony in her words.

“That is true. We will take our time. I am willing to wait.” He kissed her hand softly and she sighed loudly.

A part of her knew what this meant. And it was already mourning her loss. She would have to say goodbye to Maxwell, and follow the duty that her parents set out for her. She nodded softly, feeling her eyes well up with tears. She would tell him that night.

Hello Everyone! Back with the new chapter! I was smiling reading your feedback. It definitely stinks to be snatched out of such a good mood... doesnt it? Poor Bethany... lol Anyway, what happens when we add a sour faced Guerin to the mix?

Oh, and thank you to those who have nominated this fic for the awards! I can't express the joy that you have all enjoyed this fic so much.

Now, onto the show.


ACT II. SCENE II:

“Let me try and understand this.” Michael Guerin paced back and forth on the dusty ground of The Rose theatre. “You saw things?”

“Yes,” Maxwell whispered as he tightened the knot on the rope. He was putting up a new set. The first few pieces of what would be Master Shakespeare’s new production.

“Like what, exactly?”

“Images, memories of her life. I could feel what she felt when she lived them….” Maxwell softened his words to a nearly inaudible tone as he finished his sentence, remembering what it felt like to have those feelings within him. He sighed loudly. It was magical.

“How?”

“I honestly do not know. It all was just so sudden.”

“All right, so you connected with her. Did she see things?”

Maxwell walked past Michael, making his way to the stack of boards. He grabbed the hammer and nails and went back toward the stage, climbing up to put up the next wall. Michael leaned against the frame of the stage, his hands crossed over his chest in deep thought.

“Maxwell?” He looked back when the silence continued. Maxwell was avoiding his eyes.

“You told her?!” he whispered forcefully. Maxwell climbed down quickly, hoping to calm his best friend, before he made a scene.

“Well, she was obviously going to think something was strange….”

“And that somehow gave you the right to tell her OUR secret?”

“I didn’t really tell her… I just implied that we were different.”

“NO! That is not the plan. We are NORMAL, remember? THAT is the plan.”

The two men now stood face to face, and Maxwell sighed loudly. He knew this was the reaction he’d get when they found out. Still, it didn’t prepare him for Michael’s anger.

“She knows nothing, there is no need to panic.”

“You broke a sacred pact, Maxwell. I would say now is as a good a time as any to panic.”

“We can trust her.”

“Why? Because you say so?”

“Because I know her… and I know she would never betray us.”

Michael shook his head in disapproval.

“I can only hope that you are right.” A long silence stood between them. “Why did you have to go and fall in love? Don’t you know the weakness that it forms within us? Lust, Maxwell is perfectly acceptable, perfectly human. But love? You are asking to be completely destroyed.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes as he snickered and made his way back onto the stage, hammering up the planks to form the even length of the side walls. He would get to work on the balcony later that afternoon.

“You cannot let yourself be led around by your… emotions. You have to form a barrier, a stone wall. Women can be enjoyed, but we cannot afford to connect with anyone in this life.”

Michael came up onto the stage, carrying a few extra planks, as Maxwell grabbed another, and continued to hammer away.

“What about Isabelle? And Tess?”

“They married because that is what is expected of them.”

“But they connected.”

“Perhaps, but they would leave, if the time came. Could you?” Maxwell stood, pensive for a moment. “My point exactly.”

He looked over at his friend who was now looking off into the distance. Maxwell followed his gaze, as they watched a woman walk in, her eyes desperately searching the grounds. Her long blonde hair was loose, with pieces tied back on top.

“Women are all looking for marriage, Maxwell. You have to make it clear that you are interested in them temporarily. Watch and learn.”

Michael jumped off the stage and headed toward the woman as Maxwell shrugged. Michael simply didn’t understand the sort of bond he’d formed with Bethany. It was much more than a physical thing. They had seen into each other’s souls.

He turned to continue working on the walls, hammering away, barely able to hear, but still listening carefully for Michael’s supposed words of wisdom.

Michael walked up to the small woman, her green eyes suddenly landing on him with such force that it nearly took him off guard.

“Good day, maiden. Is there any way I could help you?”

“I must speak to Master Henslowe with urgency.”

“Master Henslowe is away on business. Only Maxwell remains behind, to watch the theatre.”

“It is he that I must speak with.”

He narrowed his eyes, watching her carefully. What business did she have with Maxwell?

“What is this regarding?”

“It is a private matter, one that I would prefer to discuss with him alone.”

“He is currently unavailable, but perhaps I could leave him a message.”

“Is that not him, upon the stage?” she asked, beginning to make her way over. Before she could get too far, he grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward him.

“Did you not hear me? He is occupied and unavailable for your mindless banter.”

“I beg your pardon?” her eyes were now clouded over with rage, as they glowed a bright green in the sunlight. Something within him jumped. This one was a little spit fire. “I will have you know, that a real gentleman does not speak with such disrespect. And despite not expecting more from you, I will not have you speak to me that way.”

She walked away, storming over to the stage. Michael watched her, intrigue ruling over any sort of common sense.

“Well then, my lady, I pray that you tell me just how you would prefer that I speak to you,” he called after her, and she stopped suddenly, turning slowly to face him.

“Do you mock me?” she asked, disbelief in her voice.

“I simply ask that you tell me what gives you the right to such indignation.”

“You are so rude,” she barely laughed, her eyebrows going up in shock.

“I am a close friend of Maxwell Henslowe and what you are about to tell him will likely greatly affect me…”

“Well then, forgive the disappointment, but unlike the rest of the world, this bit of information actually does not involve you,” she smirked and turned again.

“Now who is being rude?” he asked with a smirk of his own.

“You are insufferable!” she yelled, and Maxwell turned to face her. She stood a few feet from Michael, her hands in tight fists on her side. Michael was wearing a smile that quickly informed him of ill intentions. It was the same smile he wore when he purposely said things to Isabelle that made her furious. A sport that Michael seemed to greatly enjoy.

He jumped off the stage quickly, hoping to run some sort of interference.

“My lady, forgive my friend. At times he cannot quite control his tongue,” Maxwell smiled apologetically, and threw a glance over at Michael, who was now huffing and pouting as he turned to gather more wooden planks.

“Are you Maxwell Henslowe?” she asked quickly, obviously stirred.

“I am.”

“Is that man a friend of yours?” there was disgust in her voice as she looked back over at Michael and huffed in frustration.

“More like family, madam.”

“How the both of you could possible come from the same family is beyond me! Has he never spoken to a lady before?” Her eyes were wide with anger and Maxwell could only smile. Michael had sure chosen the wrong person to test his theories of women on.

“Not a lady such as yourself, no,” Maxwell said honestly, with a smile on his face. “Now, tell me, please, what business have you with me?”

“I come bearing a message, from my lady, Bethany.”

Maxwell’s heart suddenly jumped in his chest, and he pulled her aside, away from Michael and his prying eyes and ears.

“Where is my lady? Is all well?”

“She has been detained, but she would like to see you this evening. There are urgent matters she would like to speak of.”

“Please relay that I will wait for her by the dock, after sundown.”

“She is a good girl… I only want what is best for her,” she looked at him, her bright green eyes examining him carefully.

“Be assured that I love her with every fiber of my being and I would not lead her astray,” he pleaded with his eyes, and after a moment, she nodded, as if making some sort of judgment.

“Very well, I will let her know. With Lord Valentyne still near, you must be warned that this is a very dangerous feat.”

“I am aware.”

“And you are willing to risk your life this way?”

“My life meant nothing until I met her, I have no choice now. She completes me.”

He watched as her eyes watered and she placed her hand softly on his. She nodded softly in understanding and stood up, ready to make her way out.

“My lady, your name, please?”

“Marye of De Lucia.”

“Thank you,” he stated with a small smile, as she nodded and turned to walk out of the theatre.

Michael stormed toward him quickly.

“What did she want?”

“Nothing,” he lied, as he grabbed the brush and climbed back onto the stage, to paint the new wall.

“I know she was here about Bethany, Maxwell, I am not an idiot.”

“That can be argued, seeing as how you nearly drove that nice woman to strike you in a public theatre.”

“Her sanity and sense is not in question, despite the fact that we both know that she does not have all her wits about her.” Michael scratched his eyebrow and Maxwell laughed.

“It is of no concern, my friend.”

“This can only lead to disaster,” Michael grabbed his wrist, stopping the repetitive strokes of the brush against the wall. “You must know that.”

“I will continue to search for the Granolith, if that is your fear. I will not allow our mission to be forgotten. But I will not allow myself to live as if nothing else existed. I will forever regret it if I do not see where this will lead.”

Michael released his grip, shaking his head in disapproval.

“Isabelle will not like this.”

“She will not know,” Maxwell stated, as he handed Michael a brush.

“You will not tell her?”

“And get her worked up over nothing? There really is no need.”

“Whatever you say, your highness.” Michael whispered sarcastically, as he dipped his brush into the paint and started the other half of the wall.

A/N: Hello everyone! And welcome to all of our new readers! I am so glad you have found your way into this little world. Hopefully you are enjoying it.

ACT II. SCENE III:

Bethany sighed in relief as she closed the door behind her. Finally, a moment to breathe. She had spent the entire day with Lord Valentyne and she was more than grateful to find comfort in her empty room. She couldn’t help the guilt that invaded her stomach, when her thoughts immediately turned to Maxwell. Marye would be arriving at any moment, and she had been waiting, rather impatiently, all day for any news.

She sat on the edge of her bed, letting her mind wander to the eyes that sparkled with a golden glow reminiscent to sunlight. There was something so magical about Maxwell’s eyes, which seemed to offer the secrets of the very universe. She never quite saw that in Lord Valentyne’s eyes. His were bright and playful, full of hope and promise. Still, they didn’t stir her soul quite the same way. She thought back to the long walk in the garden. He had been a real gentleman, but her mind had been elsewhere the entire time.

Not that she didn’t enjoy herself; after all, Lord Valentyne was a fabulous conversationalist and had a great sense of humor. He made her very comfortable, as they talked and laughed and walked the garden. If there was anything she’d come to appreciate, it was how steady and loyal he truly was. He had pleasantly surprised her, and she found herself wishing they could have met under different circumstances. But, what was done was done.

Her heart was lost to her, as she had handed it to Maxwell the night before, amongst the pillars and torchlight of the patio, with the music serving as their backdrop. She smiled, still feeling dizzy at his words. They had affected her so deeply! How did he manage to do that?

It didn’t matter. Even if he hadn’t uttered a word, she knew that the allure of those deep eyes would have been enough.

She was startled out of her thoughts when she heard the loud thumping of feet rushing toward her room. The door swung open and she stood quickly, to see a very angry Marye storming through.

“You’re back!” she said excitedly as Marye dropped an armful of gowns onto her bed. Bethany ran and closed the door behind her, as a rush of nervous energy tackled her system.

“I do not for my life understand the enigma that surrounds all men.”

Bethany raised a curious brow and looked around, deciding that the words were directed to her.

“Are they really that separated from our sex that they would think that being rude is some sort of trophy that they carry? That it somehow makes us more interested in their insignificant thoughts?”

“Did you see your mother today?” Bethany asked carefully, fully recognizing the tone in Marye’s voice. She was this way nearly every time she returned from seeing her mother, who was far too wild and free spirited for their conservative lifestyle. Marye always returned with some rant about men, especially if they had spoken of her father.

Marye understood her situation. She never pretended to be above it. Her mother had become pregnant after a steaming affair with an already married man, and so, Marye was base-born, and shared only a monetary relationship with her father. If he had ever done anything right in his life, it was getting Marye to work for the De Parquee family at such a young age, providing her with the material support she needed. They had become like the family she didn’t have.

“No. Bethany, there are four new gowns that your mother had tailored for you. We must try them on.”

Marye moved quickly, making her way to the bed, and carefully opening the buttons on the back. Bethany simply stood, quietly staring at her friend in confusion. Well? Didn’t she know that she had been waiting for her ALL day?

“Marye, did you get to the theatre this afternoon?”

“Did I ever! And do you know I came across a pompous and ever so arrogant man? If you could only have seen him! He was smirking as if he thought what he was saying was amusing!”

Bethany lifted her arms as Marye pulled her dress up and over her head. She wasn’t quite sure what Marye was talking about, but she was most certainly very bothered by whatever it was.

“Yes, but….”

“And do you know the worst of it? Had he not opened his incredibly large mouth, I may have thought him attractive! My mother is right! I am absolutely incapable of detecting men who would be worth my time! Will I be an old spinster?”

Bethany laughed, turning around to face the panicked eyes behind her. She reached up, placing her hands on her face, squeezing lightly.

“Will you calm down? You will NOT be an old spinster, you are far too beautiful for that.”

“Beautiful? I am so plain,” Marye said as she looked down toward the floor.

“With those bright green eyes? I think not,” Bethany smiled as she brought her chin up to face her. “Now focus. What did my lord say?”

The smile that had started to curl on Marye’s lips quickly faded and she turned, snatching up a dress and turning Bethany around sharply.

“I come, bearing one of my largest fears and your only concern is what he said?” She placed the golden gown over her head and brought it down, as Bethany kept her arms up, until prompted to place them within the long sleeves.

“I have been waiting the entire day! I have never before so desperately longed for the call of darkness until now! I must know!!”

“Well, to think, all of that trouble and I get absolutely no appreciation…..” Marye pulled tightly on the strings that closed the back panel of the layered gown.

“No appreciation? How could you honestly say that to me? I appreciate everything you do!” Bethany soothed, turning around, wishing she could read Marye’s mind.

“Turn!” Marye pushed her shoulders back softly and finished the buttons of the outer panel.

“Marye…” Bethany turned quickly, her eyes pleading desperately. Marye sighed, as their eyes danced with questions. “What did my lord say?”

“He will be waiting for you at the docks after sunset.”

“The sky is darkening!”

“So then, you must hurry and prepare!” Marye said with a smile, as she reached up and pulled a few pins out of Bethany’s hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure that he sees you for who you are.”

Bethany smiled as she breathed in nervously.

“I know what I should do, but my heart seems to be forgetting. He is all I think about.”

“I suppose that is what love is about.”

They smiled, and Bethany reached over to hug her friend tightly.

“What of my parents?”

“I will try to distract them. You will get very little time Bethany, use it wisely. Be sure that you decide what will make you happy and that you do it. But know that there will be consequences to any decision.”

Bethany nodded, and with a final hug, made her way out of the manor and onto one of the spare horses. She rode fast, hoping to avoid any curious eyes. She had to be swift, if she had any hope of returning without word to her parents.

She stopped near the docks, and headed up toward the cliffs where the caves resided. She worked quickly, tying Phoebus, her horse down onto one of the bushes. Her eyes searched the area. She knew was not allowed up there, that the people in town were always warning of strange occurrences that happened upon the caves. It was dangerous, but it was the only place she felt was safe enough to conceal her until she found Maxwell.

She walked over to the large rock, leaning over the side to watch the boats coming in, as she kept her eyes focused, looking for any sign of him near.

It was so peaceful there, with the waves of the ocean crashing beneath and the cool breeze flowing through her loose hair. She closed her eyes and smiled, enjoying the setting sun that filled the sky with countless colors.

She heard rustling and turned, only to see Phoebus stirring in place. She shrugged, but didn’t see the rock beside her as she stumbled toward the large rock, her palms falling flat and hard, breaking her fall.

She was startled when she felt a strange tingling in her right hand, and she looked up, as she stood, gathering herself together. Her eyes opened wide in disbelief. A silver handprint lingered on the stone before her.

She reached out, her hand drawn to the palm that stood there, and she leaned hers against it. They were a perfect match.

The earth rumbled beneath her feet as the rock opened, revealing a hidden cave. She looked around, and without another thought, entered.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, a dim green glow lighting the space. She watched wide-eyed, unable to believe the sight before her. It was like nothing she had ever seen. Four circular objects were propped up, stacked in two’s, and they seemed to have exploded. Chunks of them hung loose, like seaweed.

She squinted, noticing a strange symbol between the four. She walked slowly, examining the two swirls with the circle between them. She reached out, as her fingers ran across the cool metal. The touch seemed to make the room come alive and she stepped back quickly, looking around in a panic. Had she done something wrong?

The symbol began to glow as the pods separated, and opened like gates, revealing a large metal door of some sort. It all seemed so incredible. Her eyes just took it all in, even though her mind still did not believe it all. The door slid open quickly, and she stood in awe at the room before her. The cool, shiny walls went in a perfect circle around the room, as the main attraction stood in the center. It stood tall, perfectly cylindrical and pointed at the bottom.

“Bethany?” the voice registered in surprise behind her. She looked back as her eyes met Maxwell’s. There was an abundance of confusion and fear in his eyes. “How did you…?”

“What is this Maxwell?” she asked, as she watched him examine it in reverence. He walked up slowly, placing his palm against what looked like blue glass. He turned back to face her, as his eyes examined her in wonder.

“The Granolith.”

HEY! *waves* Posting a day early. I'm home with the sniffles and a bad allergy headache, so I figured, eh, might as well. Now the main question seems to be, IS Liz an alien????? Let's see just what's going on.

ACT II. SCENE IV:

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

He knew something was strange when he’d walked up to the pod chamber and noticed a horse, tied down. Then, the silver handprint still lingering on the stone outside the cave; his heart had nearly fallen out of his chest. He had prepared himself for defense, because he was absolutely sure that Kivar had finally found him. But he had not prepared himself to see Bethany, standing in awe, staring up at the very thing he’d been searching for.

How had she even gotten into the cave? How did she know where to find the Granolith, which he had been searching for all this time and had been right under his nose?

“Granolith? What is a Granolith?”

There were a thousand different things running through his mind. What was happening?

“How did you find this place?”

“It just opened…..”

He stared down at her rich brown eyes, lost in them. Something was happening to them, between them, and he couldn’t explain it. But the sudden energy he felt flowing from her was far too much for his system to handle.

Without a thought, he reached for her face and kissed her hard, without restraint. He knew it was wrong, that it was far too hungry, but he couldn’t help the sudden recognition his soul had in response to hers. She returned the kiss with the same passion, as if she had been waiting the entire day for this moment. He reached into her hair, which he suddenly realized was loose, and he ran his fingers through its silky lengths, reveling in how soft it was. Just as soft as he had imagined it.

She turned, and he leaned against her, as her body weighed against the massive cone behind her. It suddenly came roaring to life, as the room lit up, bright blues and purples filling the space.

Memories swirled through his mind of moments from the past. So many… kisses, hugs, stares. The distinct memory of her hand brushing against his burned in his soul. He had been with her this way so many times before. Sudden realization dawned on him. His question came back through his mind.

Why had he been sent here?

Because Bethany De Parquee was here, and now he clearly understood she was essential to his survival. She had been there, in all those other lives, all those other desperate attempts to save his planet. And they were forever reprogrammed to do this dance, this endless dance, until it was perfected.

Bethany had found his way home. And somehow, her touch brought it to life.

His ancestors had handed him the very key to the Granolith, all of those times before, and he had never understood it. But now, with her standing before him, her eyes wide with questions, and her lips swollen from his kiss, he knew undoubtedly why he had loved her from the first moment he saw her.

He reached his hand out and concentrated, calming the large machine, as its energy came down from a roar to a low hum.

“I do not understand any of this.”

“Bethany, I love you,” he whispered suddenly, as he reached up, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear softly. Her eyes looked at him in surprise and then they softened as she reached her hand up to his face.

“And I love you.”

He watched as she paled, and winced from his touch. She pulled her hand away quickly, looking down and away from his eyes.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We cannot do this….” She walked away from him quickly and he grabbed her arm, turning her and forcing her to face his eyes.

“I cannot bear it if you walk out on me.”

“I am engaged!”

“You do not love him!”

“NO! I do not! But I fear that our being together will have disastrous consequences….”

He watched as tears began to slide slowly down her face and he pulled her close to him, letting his fingers run through her hair and down her back in comfort.

“What did you see?” he whispered, as he let her cry into his shoulder.

“It was awful. It was as if I could see you, lifeless… It frightens me.”

“It isn’t real,” he said with as much conviction as he could muster, pulling her away to look her in the eyes. “I need you Bethany, without you, I can never go home again.”

“And what of us? I stay behind? With my heart broken and my dignity shattered?”

“No,” he said quickly, pulling her back into his arms. “No, never. We’ll be together, Bethany, I will find a way.”

“And if we cannot?”

“Bethany, I did not feel alive until I touched your hand. Please, do not deny me the soft touch of your lips as well.”

“What will we do?” she asked sadly, as his forehead fell upon hers and he closed his eyes in peaceful contentment at feeling her warm breath on his face.

“Whatever we must.”

He pressed his lips against hers, drinking in her scent, enjoying his final moments, before he had to bid her farewell once again.

<center>***</center>

“It is absolutely incredible.”

The four bodies walked slowly, admiring the large glass cone.

“How did you find it?”

Maxwell looked up, his eyes falling on Isabelle’s for a brief moment, before he looked back toward the object before him.

“Actually, I did not find it. Bethany De Parquee stumbled upon it.”

“Bethany De Parquee? What was she doing up on the cliffs?” Tess looked over confused, her bright blue eyes shining in the darkness.

Maxwell let the silence linger, considering just how he was going to share the news. He wasn’t sure just how they would react to all he had to say.

“We were meeting there.”

Immediately, he felt Isabel’s eyes burning upon his skin.

“What for?”

“I suppose there is no other way to say this, but I am in love with her.”

He shrugged uncomfortably, thankful for the darkness in the cave. He knew his cheeks were blushing red, and he didn’t want them to see his uneasiness. He would not let them sway his decision.

“In love with her?! Maxwell, you two have never uttered more than two words to each other!”

“She feels the same, Isabelle,” his voice was a soft whisper as the room fell silent once again.

“I was under the impression that we made a pact, not to get involved in this world. That our focus would be on returning home, and leave our experiences here behind.”

Tess stood uncomfortably, her arms crossed over her chest, her voice betraying the hurt she was feeling. Maxwell sighed to himself, readying himself for the battle ahead.

“You are both married….” Maxwell started.

“Yes, but that is expected of us! Imagine how we would stand out if we were unmarried at our age!” Isabelle whispered angrily, as her louder words echoed in the intense silence of the room.

“You are saying that you do not love him?” Michael asked suddenly, his first words since they’d arrived.

“Of course not…”

“Then, what makes what Maxwell is doing so different?”

“He is the King, Michael, his focus must be on our assignment,” Tess bit matter-of-factly.

“I do not care what you all think, what is done is done. I love her and my feelings will not change. It is however, pertinent that you treat her well, despite how you may feel about humans in this world. She is more important to us all than you could possibly imagine.”

“Why? Because you love her?” Tess asked, not masking her jealousy.

“No, because she is the key to the Granolith. Without her, we cannot go home.”

A/N: You all make a fine point. What will happen?! lol

Disclaimer: The magical words uttered during rehearsal are none other than those of Mr. William Shakespeare.

ACT II. SCENE V:

Bethany awoke to a bright bouquet of roses on her bedside. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the sunlight. It wasn’t a vision. There were really beautiful white roses sitting in a vase beside her bed.

She couldn’t help that smile that curled on her lips. She sat up slowly, noticing a letter lying beneath them. She pulled it out, looking at the cursive words written in dark ink.

I had urgent matters to attend to in London. I do hope that you enjoyed yourself these few days; I know that I will remember them fondly. Please seriously consider my marriage proposal; I do believe that we are quite right for each other. I will return in six nights.
Until then, Kylenus.

Bethany sighed loudly, putting the letter down on the table. Well, at least he was away for now. She would get some time to put things in order.

She would need it, after everything that was happening. She knew it all seemed impossible, and yet, she knew what she’d felt, what she’d seen had been true. Maxwell Henslowe was not of this earth, and somehow, he was here, and she was madly in love with him.

Now it was a matter of figuring out what it all meant. Somehow, she had empowered what he called the Granolith, and he was determined to believe that she was essential to his mission. The one that would take him away from her and off to a distant place in the sky. It was difficult to imagine, and still, a part of her ached, as if she were already missing him.

She stood up, startled by the sound of chatter in the hall. What was all the noise? She opened the door slightly and smiled when she saw the two figures bickering at the bottom of the stairs.

“You will not come and watch?”

“Do you think I have nothing better to do, Alexander? I mean, honestly! I have chores and I have to go to the market, and I have to attend to Bethany!”

“It is only for a few hours! And Bethany would love to come!”

“She cannot…” Marye said quickly, and Bethany suddenly realized what they spoke of. The theatre. Alexander must have gotten a role!

She ran down the stairs, without a second thought.

“Alexander!”

“Bethany!” He said with a smile, hugging her quickly. Marye looked at her wide eyed and pushed her back up the stairs.

“You aren’t dressed!” she yelled and Bethany could hear Alexander laughing at the bottom of the stairs. Once inside the room, Marye removed her nightgown and replaced it with a fresh, clean gown. Bethany smiled, enjoying the feeling of the cool fabrics against her, before Marye pulled hard on the strings, nearly sending her flying backwards.

“Ouch!” She looked back, as Marye avoided her gaze. “Will we be going to see Alexander at the theatre today?”

“Did you receive the flowers?”

“Yes,” Bethany said with a sigh as she looked ahead.

“Bethany, he is well suited for you….”

“But I do not LOVE him!”

“Listen to me,” Marye turned her around, grabbing her face in her hands. “Love has no place in this society. Your parents find Lord Valentyne suitable, and he is. You may learn to love him….”

“When Maxwell touches my skin it is as if I am burning. As if I could fly if I closed my eyes and imagined it. Lord Valentyne does not stir me that way. He never will, Marye.” The two stood still, staring into each other’s eyes, trying to reach an understanding. There was a slight knock on the door, and Alexander peeked his head in, looking at the two women, standing off.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Marye said quickly. “What time is rehearsal?”

“Now.”

Marye nodded and brushed through Bethany’s hair, braiding it neatly behind her. She looked her over, admiring the wine colored gown, and nodding in approval.

“Let us make haste, for there is much I must do.”

Bethany smiled and looked over at Alexander, who held a similar smile on his own lips. They went out into the cloudy day, and Bethany couldn’t help but sigh in anxious anticipation. In moments, she would be before Maxwell again, close enough to touch him, to look into his eyes that were like liquid gold. She lived for those moments.

They rode in the carriage, and Bethany was lost in her thoughts, staring out toward the horizon. The ride seemed longer than usual, probably because she couldn’t wait to arrive. When they finally came to a stop, she noticed the large groups of people going in and out of the theatre, carrying supplies. They must have completed the sets!

She tried to avoid running in, she had to remain dignified after all. But she couldn’t help how her heart had suddenly doubled in its beats, and she placed her hand softly on her chest, hoping to ease the throbbing that she was sure people could see.

Once inside, she looked around, at how it had transformed in merely days. A beautiful set was upon the stage, with pillars and fencing and a balcony with a window upon the right hand side. They were painted with white and gold and covered in vines. Actors crossed the stage, busy and lost in their thoughts. Whispers and mumbles of lines were floating in the air, in no particular order.

She closed her eyes against them, letting them all seep into her system. There was something so magical about the theatre. It always made her feel so complete. Lost within worlds that didn’t exist and yet somehow they did, in her own mind, where her heart would be lost in emotion.

Marye led her up toward the balcony, and as they sat, they watched Alexander head toward the stage, grabbing the papers he was handed and looking through for his own part.

Bethany looked around expectantly, but saw no sign of Maxwell. She wondered where he could be. Then suddenly, the booming voice of William Shakespeare filled the theatre. He stood atop the stage and all the actors gathered together, awaiting instruction.

“We will be working on Act 3, scene 3. Romeo is hiding at Friar Lawrence’s cell, after having killed Tybalt. Alexander, have you looked over the lines?”

“I have, Master Shakespeare.”

“Very well. And where is Maxwell?”

She knew the moment he entered, as her eyes fell upon his sun-kissed skin, his dark hair wild from the breeze outside. Beside him was Michael Guerin, a man she had seen working with him many times before. At his entrance, Marye tensed beside her. She looked over, startled by her reaction, but Marye’s eyes were fixated to the man on the ground, who suddenly looked up, catching her gaze. There seemed to be some silent recognition in his eyes, and a smirk crossed his lips for a brief moment, before turning away.

Bethany looked back over at Marye, who could do nothing but huff in response, and lean back against the wall of the theatre. What was that all about?

“I am here, Master Shakespeare. Shall we begin?”

Her eyes drifted back down at the sound of his voice. It was amazing how it caused a long, slow heat to build within her, right beneath her skin. She smiled, enjoying the sight of him. She wondered if he could sense her as strongly as she sensed him.

When he took the script into his hands and looked up, she knew he could. His eyes met hers instantly and he did not mask his pleasure at seeing her there. She smiled and waved and he nodded slightly, acknowledging her greeting.

This would prove to be a wonderful afternoon.

She watched as the stage cleared, leaving only Alexander and Maxwell. She laughed, imagining Alexander playing the older Friar. That would be interesting, for sure.

“Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man:
Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.”

She listened carefully, enjoying how the words sounded like poetry.

“Father, what news? what is the prince's doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?”

Maxwell’s voice was like silk, caressing her skin. It seemed to fly off his lips and embrace her with its richness. She watched, enraptured. Poor Romeo would be banished from Verona, and separated from the Juliet that he so loved.

She empathized, understanding his defeat. After all, could she help the pain that traveled through her system at the thought of Maxwell leaving her? He would also be forced to leave this place, forced to live a life not of his own choosing, and she would be forced to live without him. She tried not to think of those awful truths, tried to keep focused on how he loved her, and how he held her as if his very life were dependent on hers.

“O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
And turn'd that black word death to banishment:
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.”

She was startled to notice, that suddenly, Alexander was truly the Friar, desperate and frustrated with Romeo, for not accepting the very gift of life. She watched in awe, as Maxwell walked away, sadness evident in every muscle of his shoulders and back, his eyes looking up toward her. The sudden contact startled her, but she held his gaze, thankful to have his attention.

“'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her;
But Romeo may not: more validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
Who even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
But Romeo may not; he is banished:”

She understood the frustration in his voice. How his eyes explained everything his own lips could not. Maxwell felt unworthy of her love, unworthy of the attention she sprung on him, and even so, he accepted it with open arms. And now, now that he had finally received what he had longed for, it would be taken away, as every lowly creature enjoyed it.

She sighed loudly, wishing she could kiss him at that moment. Take away the fears that plagued him. He was so burdened with talk of missions and kingships, planets that were so far removed from their own; they could not even remember them. Why could he not just be there? Just be human?

“Flies may do this, but I from this must fly:
They are free men, but I am banished.
And say'st thou yet that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'?
O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word 'banished'?”

Maxwell had turned away from her, and back toward Alexander. His words were deep and passionate. She couldn’t help the shivers that exploded on her skin. Master Shakespeare had once again created magic. Absolute magic through mere words. It was incredible what the man could do with language.

They stopped then, as the scene was adjusted, and Alexander nodded at his given direction. She looked down, her eyes fixated upon the man who had stolen away her heart. He shifted under the heat of her glare, and he looked up, smiling with his eyes. For a moment, they simply stood that way, looking and lost within each others’ souls. Then, his eyes drifted toward the side of the stage, as he looked up suggestively.

She looked over, at the empty doorway that led to the pits of the theatre, the backstage area where many of the props and costumes were held. She looked back, confusion plaguing her features. His expression became incredibly serious as his eyes drifted toward the door again and then back up to her eyes. Then, a sudden flash of a heated kiss passed over her eyes and she froze, a blush creeping up her breasts and neck and onto her cheeks.

She would have to find a way to keep Marye distracted. She needed to see him, to touch him once again.

<center>***</center>

William looked over his shoulder, when he realized the complete silence that came from Maxwell at his stage direction. He was not startled in the least when he saw that he was lost within Bethany’s eyes, sharing a secret conversation. He also did not miss the fiery blush which covered Bethany’s fair cheeks. Something must have happened between them, something to cause such intimacy.

William smiled. Lord Valentyne had left the city early that morning. Was it possible that Bethany and Maxwell decided to act on their feelings? To give in to their secret passion?

No, he suddenly realized, as he watched Maxwell turn and face them in silence. Whatever was happening between them was still very much a secret. He wondered what destinies kept the two apart.

But it would only be a matter of time. Fire could not be kept tame when there were so many logs being tossed into the flames.

He nodded, as he gathered the actors together to redo the scene. He sighed within himself. He only hoped Maxwell and Bethany fared better than his Romeo and Juliet.