Roswell Fanatics

Winner Round 13





Title: Ten Years Later and Still I Haven’t a Clue
Author: Karen
Rating: Mature
Pairing: CC, eventually
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and a bunch of networks. No infringement intended.
Summary: Picks up 10 years after Departure, with a slight twist. The aliens really did leave earth...or did they?
Author's Notes: This fic is for Nibbles2, who won my services in the author auction to Support Stacie, and who is generously allowing me to post this fic for public consumption. It may look angsty, but trust me it won't stay that way! The title is from a lyric in "10 Yrs Later" by Collective Soul. I may go over my 5000 word promise

Prologue

Mrs. Jesse Ramirez.

It did have a certain ring, and the jewel on her finger definitely had some wonderful, eye-catching sparkle. Tossing a lock of long blonde hair over her shoulder, she thought about her fiancé, the hot shot young attorney on his way to the top with a bullet. He had a perfect body, a wonderful smile, charm that would win over the toughest of adversaries. As a mate, he was kind and considerate and extremely generous – her enormous engagement ring was testimony to that. Any woman would be happy with him.

Then why did the ring on her finger feel as heavy as an anchor?

Sighing deeply, she lifted her eyes to their sliding patio doors, which were wider than the entire house she’d grown up in. Beyond the glass lay a pool, meticulously cleaned each day by a pool boy named Juan, and around the pool was a garden she was certain was larger than the whole block she’d grown up on. At the moment, Juan and the gardener – Juan Sr. – were debating where to plant the latest desert blooms Jesse had ordered for his wife. These ones were potted cacti of some kind, brilliant blooms on their spiny heads. Pretty, but untouchable. It made her sad.

Was that the problem? Was Jesse attractive but not embraceable? Her mind drifted back to the previous night, when he’d lovingly tucked her against his side as they’d lain in bed, then opened a book they’d been reading together. Well, he read and she listened. On nights when they didn’t make love, they’d read a chapter together, then fall asleep in each others’ arms. She remembered how it felt, to be held against his strong body. No, he wasn’t untouchable.

Then what was the problem?

“Maria?” Jesse called cheerfully as he entered the kitchen, knotting his tie. As usual, he was smiling widely. As he bent to kiss her, she caught a whiff of his aftershave – a thousand dollars an ounce, and worth every penny. “I’ll be home late,” he said.

What else was new? She managed to smile and not frown like she wanted to.

“What will you do today?” he asked as he picked up the travel cup full of coffee that she’d prepared for him.

Nothing, she thought. Just like yesterday. “I was thinking about doing some shopping,” she said vaguely.

“Oh, okay,” he said, immediately putting down the cup and pulling out his wallet. A platinum card appeared like magic, dropped into her hand. It felt cold and lifeless. “Get whatever you want. Why don’t you take your mom out to dinner, too, since I’m going to be late?”

Maria nodded numbly. Yeah, a day with Amy sounded like loads of fun.

“Gotta run,” Jesse said, grabbing his cup and giving her a kiss on the top of the head before disappearing down the hallway.

She rolled the card over in her fingers, returned her gaze outside, where Juan and Son had finally placed the first cactus. It was perfect, of course. And then it dawned on her what was wrong with her fiancé.

Why was he perfect? Why did he have perfect teeth and unblemished skin and impeccable taste in clothing? Why did he simply laugh affectionately when she messed up, let her spend as much money as she wanted, hold her tenderly when she was having an overly-emotional day? Why did he adore her mother so, love Liz like a sister, weep for Alex with her on the days when she was feeling blue when he’d never met him? Why did it seem there was no end to his patience? It wasn’t normal, it wasn’t natural. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was an alien.

Then with a pang Maria reminded herself that there weren’t aliens in Roswell. Not anymore.

tbc

Thanks for reading everyone!

I mean no disrespect to the people of Erie in this next part. I needed a place for Isabel to feel trapped and I was in Erie yesterday, so it got used. The comment about flannel came from my brother

Part One

Mrs. Michael Guerin.

Isabel blew out a disgusted breath and tossed her wedding ring across her vanity; it skidded to a halt against a framed picture of her and her beloved, on their less than memorable wedding day. She was sick of this, sick of the whole situation. Friggin’ joke, that’s what this was.

But as she looked at the picture, she felt some of the discord in her heart dissolve, however. Michael was a good man, even when he tried not to be. And he hadn’t asked for this any more than she had. She sighed lightly and ran her hand through her hair, which was now auburn and cropped to her shoulders. Her unhappiness wasn’t Michael’s fault. It was just the ugly situation they’d found themselves in.

Pushing herself from the stool before the mirror, she padded out to the living room of their small apartment. Michael was slouched on the couch, the remote gripped in one hand. He’d lost weight in the last couple of years, which only pronounced his already-beautiful cheekbones all the more. Gone were the experimental hairdos of old – his hair had been cropped close to his head for the last five years.

“What are you watching?” she asked softly, trying to reach out to him in some way.

“Hockey,” he replied, monotone.

Isabel’s dark eyes shifted to the television. She guessed that was one good thing about moving north – Michael could find hockey just about any night he wanted to watch a game. It was the one happiness he’d seemed to find here.

When she didn’t say anything further, he swiveled his head around so he could look at her. “Did you want to cop a squat?” he asked, gesturing toward the TV with the remote.

She forced a small smile and shook her head. “No, thanks.”

He turned around again and resumed watching the game. Isabel frowned, then decided to sit anyway. She took the chair adjacent to the couch, Michael’s eyes following her; a frown pursed his lips.

“Michael,” she began tentatively. “I want to go home.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “We’ve been through this.”

“Not for a while,” she said quickly. “We haven’t discussed it in a couple of years. I miss Mom and Dad. I miss our friends.”

“We don’t have any friends,” he reminded her. “To the world, we blasted off ten years ago.”

“Exactly – ten years ago! Who could possibly be looking for us now? Michael, I can’t be stuck in Erie PA for the rest of my life. I can’t live somewhere where rush hour is full of flannel!”

One corner of Michael’s lip lifted in a smirk. “Flannel?”

“You know what I mean,” she said in exasperation. “I don’t like it here. I want to go home.”

Michael’s smirk faded as he gave an apologetic shrug. “You know this isn’t a question for me. We decide everything as a group, remember? Even if I said yes, Max could still veto it.”

Isabel deflated, sinking into the chair until she seemed to disappear. They didn’t have a bad life here, but they didn’t have a good one either. They had jobs that got them by, but nothing they could ever make a career from. In truth, they had jobs that kept them anonymous. At one point, she’d had a job working for Presque Isle Scenic Boat Tours – she’d loved that job, loved all of the interesting people she got to interact with. And those people were the problem. There was no telling who might get on the boat and recognize her. So, much to her dismay, she’d ended up issuing boat and car titles for the title bureau.

The long and short of it was that there was nothing in Pennsylvania that would ever inspire or excite her. She wanted out of here, even if it was to go back to the blistering heat of the New Mexico desert. But Michael was right, they needed Max’s consent.

Brow furrowing, she glanced over her shoulder and down the hallway, where Max’s bedroom appeared to be dark.

“Where is Max?” she asked.

Michael shrugged. “Who knows?”

Isabel’s frown deepened. It seemed that over the years, Max would inexplicably disappear for a day or two, with no explanation ever given. She’d always attributed it to him just needing his space. But lately, she wasn’t so sure.

*~*~*~*~*

Maria paused a moment before pushing open the door to her mother’s store. She hadn’t planned on really asking her if she wanted to go to dinner, but Maria had oddly found herself without anything else to do, and she couldn’t take another night at home waiting for Jesse to get back from the office. Yes, Amy was annoying, but at least she was company.

The door needed a little extra shove since time and abuse had bent its frame; it squealed unhappily as Maria entered the store. Immediately, the smell of plastic and incense filled her nose. Not a pleasant combination. The plastic was a result of all of the alien-themed items her mother sold; the incense was from the small corner of aroma therapies that Maria had convinced her to start carrying.

“Mom?” Maria called when she realized the store was empty. She removed her Ray-Bans and glanced around the small space. “Hello? Mom?”

“Oh, Jim, you naughty boy!” came a giggle from the back room.

Maria’s lip lifted in disgust. Her mother was in the storeroom playing hanky panky with the ex-sheriff!

“Ugh!” Maria snorted, then marched back toward the door, her Jimmy Choos sounding angry against the worn tile. She jerked the door open, fanned it violently a couple of times to make the bell ring, then let it slam. “MOM!”

There was a small rush of murmured voices, then Amy and the sheriff emerged from the store room. Amy was carrying a pasted-on smile and the sheriff was looking sheepish. Maria glanced at each of them in disbelief.

“The door was wide open!” she screeched. “Anyone could have come in and robbed the place!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Amy said, waving a hand. “Jim still carries a gun, don’t you, sweetie?”

Jim flushed and nodded like a giddy school boy and Maria had the sense that “gun” was a metaphor for something else. She shuddered visibly.

“If you’re done with me, Mrs. Deluca, I’ll be heading out,” he said.

“Oh, I’m not done with you by any means,” she retorted, giving him the once-over. “But I don’t need you for anything else here at the store, if that’s what you meant.”

Jim laughed, then made a hasty exit. Maria watched him go, her mouth hanging open, then turned on her mother.

“I don’t need to know that these things go on,” she complained.

“What?” Amy asked as she picked up a bouquet of alien-green carnations and started arranging them in a vase. “I’m human, too, Maria. And it’s not like I’m ninety years old and over the hill or anything.”

“Yeah, but come on, Mom, can’t you leave it for home?”

She shrugged. “This is my store, if I want to entertain my friend I will.” She paused, then her eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

“I came to see you,” Maria said, thrown a bit by suddenly being put onto the defensive.

“Uh huh, sure. Let me guess – Jesse’s working late again and Liz is on another expedition?”

Maria couldn’t stop the guilt from showing on her face.

“Ah, it’s okay, sweetie. I was young and in love once, too.” When Maria didn’t respond, she lifted an eyebrow. “You are in love, aren’t you?”

Maria’s eyes fell to her engagement ring. “I don’t know, Mom.”

Amy quickly rounded the counter and took her by the arms. “What is there not to know? He’s a handsome, successful man. And he picked you!”

“Yeah, but why did he pick me?”

“Why? Because you’re smart and beautiful.”

“Yeah.”

“What? You don’t believe that?”

Maria sighed, then leaned against the counter. “I think sometimes he picked me because I’m not competition.”

Amy cocked her head to the side. “Go on.”

“I mean, I was a waitress when he met me, Mom. I haven’t done much since then. He went to Cornell and Harvard. He’s way more successful than I’ll ever be. How could I ever compete with him?”

“Who said you have to compete with him? I think he loves you for who you are, regardless where he met you. And besides, one day you will be as successful as he is.”

Maria looked at her warily. “Yeah, when would that be?”

Amy made a sweeping motion around the store. “When you inherit all of this!”

“Okay, I think I’m going to be sick.”

*~*~*~*~*

Seventeen hundred miles away from Roswell, and one hundred miles from Erie, Max Evans sat alone in a motel room. He couldn’t stop the nervous energy that was coursing through his body, making every one of his sense stand at attention. It wouldn’t be long now.

She was near.

tbc

Part Two

“So, what’s her name?”

Maria’s smile was amused as she watched Kyle slide into the booth across form her. He looked a little sheepish, then wiped his lips as if ridding himself of evidence.

“Who said there was anyone?” he asked, though he was grinning. He ran his hand over his mouth again.

Laughing, Maria reached across the table and pulled his arm away from his face. “There’s no lipstick, Kyle. I was only teasing you for being late. It’s just that you look happy.”

He gave a shrug and picked up a menu, though by now he knew the Crashdown offerings by heart. “There’s no one actually. I was just playing along.”

As he checked out the dessert menu, Maria withdrew her hand and felt a little bit of herself deflate. While she had found suit to move on, and even Liz had entertained a few dates, Kyle had remained solitary since the aliens had blasted off ten years prior. It hurt to see him isolate himself the way he had, and Maria suspected that Tess’s deceit had harmed him deeper than anyone had surmised.

“Lemon pie sounds good,” he said, tapping the menu with his finger. “Always liked the lemon pie.”

Maria smiled at him when he looked up, and nodded her head. “Sounds good to me, too.”

Kyle signaled the waitress, flirted with her harmlessly while he placed their order, then turned his attention to doctoring his cup of coffee. “So,” he began. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”

“I had dinner with Amy.”

“Ah, in need of some venting time, are we?” He winked at her.

“Kyle, I caught her and your father…you know.”

Kyle stopped with his coffee cup halfway to his lips, his expression that of a deer in the headlights. “Oh, God. You didn’t actually see, did you?’

“Oh, thank God no. But I heard and that’s enough.” She let out a disgusted snort. “They behave like two sixteen year olds. It’s embarrassing.”

“Well, just be happy you didn’t witness it. I think I would have to gouge out my eyes.”

Reaching into his pocket, Kyle pulled out a pill bottle and dropped two tablets into his palm. As he washed them down, Maria felt a tug of sympathy. Since Alex’s death, Kyle had been plagued by migraines and no one could really explain why.

“You feeling okay?” she asked.

Kyle flashed her a grin. “Terrific. So, no Jesse again tonight?”

Maria shook her head.

“Bummer.” Then Kyle caught her expression. “What is it?”

She sat back in the booth and folded her arms around her waist. “I don’t know, Kyle. It’s just that lately I’ve been wondering what I’m doing.”

“What do you mean? You don’t mean by marrying Jesse, do you?”

Maria shrugged.

Kyle also sat back in the booth. “Oh, man. Where did that come from? Jesse’s a great guy. He’s got money, he’s successful, he’s got a great house and he loves you to death. Plus, I’ll bet he's hung like a stallion, isn’t he?”

Maria gasped. “Kyle!”

He laughed, then touched one of his temples as if the act made his head throb. “Seriously, what’s the problem?”

She looked across the restaurant, at a red-haired waitress who was struggling a large serving tray. Maria knew from the tilt and experience that all of the plates would end up on the floor, which in very short order they did. Kyle raised an eyebrow and stirred more creamer into his coffee.

“How I miss this job,” Maria snorted as a bunch of jocks started laughing at the unfortunate waitress. She watched the girl corral the mess for a few minutes, then looked back to her friend. “Do you ever think about them?”


Kyle’s eyes hooded over and he shook his head. “I try not to.”

Maria’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Really.” He blew out a sigh and leaned forward. “Is this about Michael Guerin?”

Maria’s eyes snapped to his. “Um, well, I hadn’t really…”

“Because if it is, you need to give up on that, Maria. They’re gone. They’ve been gone for ten years. And while they were here, they mucked up everything. I’m telling you, life is better without them. Jesse Ramirez is a good man, with emphasis on man. Be happy you have him.”

Later that night, Maria returned home, changed into a T-shirt, jeans and the black leather jacket Jesse had bought for her on her last birthday. Then she waited for him in their garage, by his one reckless indulgence – a fully loaded Harley Davidson. When the garage door opened, he burst into a wide grin from behind the wheel of his BMW.

As they cruised the streets of Roswell and the hills that lay beyond, Maria wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. He was here, he was real and he loved her. Why did she think she needed anything more than that?

*~*~*~*~*

“Do you know what I like best about Niagara Falls?” her voice was soft in the darkness of the motel room.

Max turned his head toward her, caught a glimpse of her fair skin in the sliver of light that intruded through the gap in the drapes. “No, what?”

“Every day, someone comes here on their honeymoon.”

He smiled at her, touched her soft cheek.

“That’s what I think every time I’m on my way here. I’m a bride, and this is my honeymoon. Only I get to keep doing it over and over.”

Max rolled onto his side so that he could face her. Outside, a light rain had started to fall, the drops pelting the window lightly. “Here, you are my wife. Outside of here, I carry you with me as though you were my wife.”

Liz’s smile fell and his immediately followed.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I just wish you could come home with me. That we could be this way every night, not just every now and then.”

Max sighed softly and rolled onto his back, his gaze fixed on the dark ceiling.

Liz inched closer to him, put her hand on his bare chest. “Don’t be angry with me,” she said softly.

“I’m not angry. It’s just…” He paused as though remembering something he didn’t really care to. “There are things I can’t undo. Things that will never change about that place.”

“It’s been a long time, Max.”

He rolled his head to the side so that he could look at her when he spoke. “The statute of limitations doesn’t run out on some things.”

She frowned in empathy, then laid her head against his chest. She knew he was right, but having the truth spoken aloud made it seem all that much more unconquerable.

Max tightened his grip around her shoulders. “What we have here, it’s ours. No one can take it away from us.”

They lay in silence for a long while, until Liz spoke. “How are the others? Michael and Isabel?”

“Okay,” Max answered almost routinely.

Liz lifted her head. “Are they happy here?”

“I think so.” He wanted to leave it at that, but her dark eyes implored him to say more. “Michael has a good job and Isabel has made some friends. The winters get cold, but it’s not so bad.”

“Do they ever talk about coming home?”

Max shrugged lightly. “Not to me.”

“Never?”

“We talked about it a few years ago and decided it was best to stay where we are. Everyone thinks we’re gone. Mom and Dad know the truth about where we came from. Things are better left alone.”

“Do you believe that?”

He nodded, afraid his voice would betray him.

Liz laid her head back down, then whispered so softly he barely heard her. “I feel like we’re stealing time, like what we’re doing is only going to hurt us in the end.”

*~*~*~*~*

In an inexpensive apartment near the shores of Lake Erie, Isabel griped to herself as she picked up a pair of her brother’s jeans from the bathroom floor. Why was it that he couldn’t pick up after himself? Why did he feel the need to shed his clothes and leave them for others to trip over?

So busy was she complaining that she nearly missed the slip of paper that fell from Max’s pocket. Curious, she retrieved the note from the floor and opened it up. What she read inside first shocked her, then filled her with rage.

tbc

Part Three

“My God, Max, what have you done?”

Michael jerked awake, the remote control tumbling to the floor. The words had been so clear, as if someone had spoken them right next to his ear. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his brain, realized that he was on the couch in their apartment in Pennsylvania and it was now daylight. On shaky legs, he pushed himself upright, then staggered toward the bathroom.

On the way, he peeked into Isabel’s room. Empty. As was Max’s. An eerie silence had settled over the apartment, only enhancing the chill he felt in his bones.

It had been ten years. When would the memories stop haunting him?

*~*~*~*~*

“Do you think I need a coat?”

Max looked up from tying his shoes, saw Liz peeking out of the motel room curtains.

“It looks like it might rain,” she frowned.

He pushed himself to his feet and stood just behind her, his eyes drifting to the gray sky. “Well, we could just stay here and, well, you know.”

Liz giggled and leaned back into his chest, prompting him to wrap his arms around her slender body. “We have to go out and eat sometime,” she said. “And before you even suggest it – I’m sick of Dominoes and Chinese delivery.”

“Oh, okay,” he relented, releasing her. She spun around to face him, crossed her wrists behind his neck. “I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“Hmm, pancakes,” she replied with a grin. “And sausage. And maybe some hash browns.”

Max’s eyebrows lifted sharply.

“What? You make me hungry.”

He chuckled and gave her a quick kiss, then retrieved her coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. As they left the room, he took her hand in his, kissed the back of it, then started to lead her to his car. Halfway across the parking lot, however, he halted abruptly, so abruptly that she ran right into him.

“Max, what are you…” Her confused voice trailed off as she followed his line of sight.

Sitting on the trunk of his car, looking for all the world like lightening bolts would come out of her ears instead of the sky, was Isabel. Liz’s mouth fell open and she looked quickly up at Max, who had gone rigid.

Heaving a snort, Isabel dropped from the back of the car and flung a piece of paper at her brother. “You, little brother,” she began, her voice as hard as nails, “have become sloppy in covering your tracks!”

The volume of her voice increased at the end of her sentence to the point that Max looked around to see if she’d drawn any unwanted attention.

“Isabel, not here,” he warned, raising his free hand in what he thought was a calming gesture.

“Not here?” she repeated, closing in on him until they were nearly chest to chest. “Where is here, Max? And what are you doing here?” Her dark eyes slid to Liz and the smaller woman nearly shrank behind Max. “And more importantly, what is she doing here!”

Max released Liz’s hand and took his sister by the arms. She quickly wrenched away.

“Don’t touch me!” she spat. “How dare you! How fucking dare you!”

Max looked around the lot again. He mused that to the casual on-looker, he and Liz must look like someone who’d been busted by his wife while on a tryst.

“Let’s go into the room,” he suggested, trying to keep his voice low and calm. “Where we can talk.”

“Oh, we’re not going to talk, Max,” Isabel laughed humorously. “You’re going to talk.”

*~*~*~*~*

Maria’s day dream was interrupted by an all-too-familiar squeal out of her mother.

“Oh! Does this mean you’re over your cold feet about marry Jesse?” Amy spouted as she took in the many catalogues and magazines spread out on the kitchen table.

Maria looked toward the sliding glass doors, reminded herself to lock them next time. “Good morning,” she said flatly. “Would you like to come in?”

Amy put a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “Oh, don’t be that way.”

“And haven’t you ever heard of ringing the doorbell? At the front door? What if my fiancé and I were having kitchen counter sex and you just came peeping in the doors like that?”

Amy swiveled to look at the hard granite countertops. “Really? Isn’t that hard on your bum?”

Maria sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Sometimes there was no point. Her mother would be a home invader now and forever. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, I’d love some!” Amy exclaimed, obviously still giddy from the sight of the wedding materials. As Maria moved less than enthusiastically for the coffee pot, Amy grabbed one of the dress catalogues. “My God, that dress is hideous,” she said, touching her chest as though the garment had personally offended her.

“That’s the one I ordered,” Maria said drolly as she retrieved a mug from the cupboard.

Amy spun around so quickly two magazines hit the floor. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Her daughter waited a beat, then gave her a sarcastic smile.

“For the love of God, Maria,” Amy said as she picked the magazines up from the floor. “Don’t joke like that. The thought of you walking down the aisle in that. Ugh!”

Maria poured the coffee, dropped in a single sugar cube, then placed it before her mother. “About walking down the aisle, I was thinking about asking Mr. Parker. What do you think?”

Amy seemed to search for words, then settled on, “If that’s what you want.”

She went back to leafing through the dress catalogue while Maria watched her quizzically. Finally, she said, “Okay, spill.”

“What?” Amy asked innocently. “I’m sure Jeff would be honored.”

“But…?”

“I’m sure Jim would be honored, too.”

One corner of Maria’s lip shot up involuntarily before she could cover her reaction. Was everything always about Jim? It wasn’t so long ago that Jim was the enemy, that just being in his presence made her stammer and stutter and sweat. She’d known Mr. Parker since kindergarten and he’d been as close to a father figure as she had ever had. He’d even taken her with him and Liz on that God-awful father-child camping trip; at that time, she’d been avoiding Jim like the plague.

“Honestly, Maria, I hardly think it’s that terrible of an idea,” Amy finally sighed.

“Huh? Oh.” Maria forced her lip back into place. “I’ve known Mr. Parker longer. I think he’s the better choice.” There – that was inoffensive, wasn’t it?

But she could tell by the look on her mother’s face that she was offended. Of course the decision was ultimately hers, but she had a feeling this wasn’t the first thing they’d disagree on in the course of preparing for the wedding.

“Where’s the honeymoon?” Amy asked, almost as though she didn’t want to talk about giving away the bride anymore.

“Jesse’s planning that.” Again Maria’s lip curled. “I hope it’s not to some stupid golf course. The man is obsessed.”

Amy laughed lightly and reached over to pick up a series of samples from the stationary company. “Did you pick your invitations yet?”

Maria sighed. “No. There’s too many. Too many colors, too many fonts, too many paper choices. Why are there so many choices? Can’t there just be a standard invitation? Better yet – can’t I just email everyone?”

At that, Amy looked positively horrified and Maria couldn’t keep up the charade as she burst out laughing.

“Only kidding!”

They spent an hour looking through the books, with Amy offering advice that Maria hadn’t asked for and didn’t really want. But, it was a mother’s job to be annoying at times like these. Maria picked up one of the dress books and turned to a slim, sleek, very elegant dress. It was definitely designed for a thin person, and it would look absolutely stunning on her.

In a memory flash, she caught a glimpse of the “Mother Nature” dress she’d worn to prom her junior year. It had been all flowing and free and she’d had that wonderful wreath of daisies in her hair.

Glancing up, she caught her reflection in the sliding glass doors. Gone were the long loose curls, replaced with perfectly smooth, perfectly healthy locks. But it wasn’t just the hair that had changed. This was a woman who found the pencil-thin, chic dress in the catalogue gorgeous, not a person you’d find dressed like a hippy. Inside she felt a pang of something akin to grief.

Where had that girl gone?

*~*~*~*~*

“You’re lucky I don’t fucking blast you right through the wall,” Isabel spat at her brother, her teeth and fists clenched.

“Isabel,” Liz started quietly, “Max can explain.”

“Stay out of this. In fact, why don’t you go somewhere else? I don’t want you here.”

Max set his jaw and took a step between his sister and Liz. “She stays here. I want her here.”

“Because it’s always about what you want, isn’t it?”

He waited a beat, then sat down slowly on the end of the unmade bed.

Isabel waited, her chest heaving with fury. The longer he didn’t answer her, the angrier she got.

“I think,” he began slowly, “that you need to go back to the apartment.”

“I’m not going anywhere!”

“I can’t talk to you this way, Isabel. It doesn’t matter what I say, you’re not going to hear me.”

They locked eyes for a long moment, then she blew out a breath and sank to the chair, her gaze fixed on the floor.

“Just tell me how long,” she said without looking up, her voice softer.

Max exchanged a glance with Liz, who was still standing by the door.

“Has this been going on since we left Roswell?” Isabel asked, her eyes both pleading and accusing.

Max shook his head. “No, Isabel. Only a little while.”

“How long?”

He swallowed. “Sixteen months.”

She froze for a moment, then shook her head and looked into the distance. “You’ve been lying for sixteen months.”

“Not lying,” he denied.

“Omitting the truth, it’s the same thing. Just tell me this – how long did it take before you started contacting her? Immediately? Have you been communicating with home all of this time while Michael and I have been stranded here in this nightmare of a city?”

Max shook his head. “I didn’t contact her.”

“Then how did she get here, Max!” The calmness was gone again, replaced with disbelief and anger.

“I found him,” Liz said quietly.

Isabel’s head whipped in her direction. “What?”

“I always knew he was still here,” Liz replied. “I could feel him, inside. I just didn’t know where he was. Then one day, I…”

Isabel’s eyes narrowed. “You what? Tell me how you found us when no one else – including the FBI – has.”

“I dreamwalked him.”

Stunned silence settled over the room. Isabel simply stared at her and Liz wasn’t sure if she was surprised that she’d developed powers, or if she was offended that she’d developed one of Isabel’s powers.

“I changed,” Liz said after a few minutes. “I’m different now. I dreamwalked him.”

Isabel shifted her attention to Max. “And you told her where we were?”

Max worked his mouth, but didn’t confirm or deny her accusation.

Finally, Isabel let out a little cry and held her head in her hands. “My God, you’re selfish, Max. It’s one thing that she found you, it’s another that you brought her to you, while Michael and I have been isolated.”

“You’ve never been isolated,” Max replied evenly.

Isabel dropped her hands. “No? You’ve got the one thing you ever wanted out of life, what do Michael and I have? Each other? What a friggin’ joke!” As if having made a decision, she jumped to her feet. “I’m catching the first flight back to New Mexico.”

Max rose quickly, panic replacing his calm demeanor. “Isabel, we can’t do that.”

She stopped with her hand on the door knob. “No, Max, you can’t do that. We’re only in this mess because of you. But you obviously didn’t follow any of the rules we laid down as a group, so from here out, there is no group consensus. No more votes, no more vetoes. I’m going home, with or without you.”

tbc

Thanks to everyone for their fb and patience!

Part Four

Max looked like he was going to be sick as he paced the short width of the motel room. His eyes darted unseeing, and when his hand went to his mouth, Liz could see his fingers trembling. She sat impotently at the end of the bed, her own stomach in knots, her entire being on edge.

“There’s nothing I can do,” Max mumbled to himself. “I can’t stop her.”

Liz bit the corner of her mouth, wished there was something she could say or do.

“She’s going to do it, I can tell. She’s going home.” He stopped his pacing as if coming to a sudden acceptance, dropped his hand and turned to face Liz. “She’s going home,” he repeated in finality.

Liz held out her hand to him, beckoning him to sit beside her. He hesitated a moment, then dropped to the bed, his head immediately falling into his hand.

“Oh God,” he sighed in defeat.

Liz wrapped her arm around his shoulders and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s just calm down, okay?” she said soothingly. “Take a couple of deep breaths.”

“I can’t calm down,” Max said, dropping his hand and tilting his head to look at her. “She’s going to jeopardize everything.”

Liz gave a little shrug. “What? What is she going to jeopardize?”

Max started to say something, but stopped, his mouth half open as though he couldn’t find the words he needed.

“She’s going home, Max, not you.”

He blinked a couple of times, then Liz saw a devastated sadness settle into his eyes. It was the resignation of a man who knew he was powerless to stop something precious from being taken from him.

“Let her go,” Liz said softly, kissing the side of his head. “Just let her go.”

*~*~*~*~*

Driving a hundred miles had not tempered Isabel’s anger. Much like her brother, she was also pacing a path, only she was doing so in the living room of the apartment they rented in Erie.

“Arrogant asshole!” she spat.

On the couch, Michael cringed, knowing all too well the power of the Ice Princess’s wrath.

“How dare he!” she snapped. “All of this time, Michael! Running around with friggin’ Liz Parker, all sexed up and happy while you and I are stuck in this, in this – THING!”

It may have been the fact the sometimes Michael felt the uncontrollable need to laugh at inappropriate times, it may have been his own mechanism for releasing the tension from finding out that Max had been lying for the last year and a half – but for some reason hearing the words “sexed up and happy” come out of Isabel’s mouth nearly made him belly laugh. Thank God her anger had paced her in the opposite direction when the smile flitted across his lips. That smile vanished like an apparition when she stopped her mad trek and spun to face him.

“You should have seen them, Michael. Giggling, holding hands like any other stupid newly-wed couple in Niagara Falls. Just Guy and Girl America, starting their new life together. While you and I sit here in BFE Pennsylvania getting old.”

“BFE?” Michael ventured.

She pinned him with a glare, knowing full well he knew what that stood for, knowing full well that he was making fun of her. “Doesn’t it make you angry?”

His eyes drifted away, to the silent TV on the other side of the room. Was he angry? Jealous? Happy for Max? He couldn’t really tell. He felt sort of numb inside. After all, ties with Roswell had been cut so long ago that he hadn’t even considered contact a possibility. Speaking of which – how had that happened?

“When did he contact her?” Michael asked, trying to remain the level-headed one for once.

Isabel blew out a snort and threw a hand in the air. He noticed that she was flushed and that her hair was a little disheveled – it had been a long time since he’d seen her this upset. “You’re gonna love this one! He didn’t find her – she dreamwalked him.”

“Wha-?” Michael’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah – great, huh? Little miss brainiac, always the over-achiever. I didn’t stick around to get the details, but apparently she’s been developing powers over the last ten years.”

“How?” He didn’t like how his voice went up in pitch, how he almost sounded panicked.

Isabel shrugged, some of the fight leaving her. “Who knows? Maybe a result of Max healing her. Dumb ass.” Her conviction was entirely gone now, the last words said without much malice.

“Wow.” Michael’s eyes drifted back to the TV and he irrationally wondered who the Penguins were playing tonight. He was still trying to unmuddle his thoughts when he felt weight beside him on the couch. He turned to face Isabel. “What are you going to do?”

She was silent for a moment, then turned sincere eyes in his direction. “I want to go home.”

Michael remained expressionless. “Is that safe?”

“Why not?” she replied, a tinge of defensiveness in her tone. “I haven’t done anything wrong. And neither have you. Don’t you want to go home?”

For some reason, he felt a twinge in his belly, a sudden longing. His mind flashed back to a night so many years ago, Scooby Doo plates and spaghetti. A song about a black bird. And he closed his eyes in agony.

“I mean, I want to see Mom and Dad,” Isabel continued, obviously having looked away and not noticing his anguish. “Roswell is my home, Michael.”

“It’s not mine,” he said quietly. “I have no home.”

With a tug of empathy, she picked up his hand in hers. “Your home will always be with me.”

“And what about Max?”

Isabel’s jaw tightened. “What about him?”

“Isn’t he part of our home, too?”

She sighed tiredly. “I can’t forever be tethered to Max, Michael. He’s got his own cross to bear and apparently she’s chosen to bear it with Liz Parker – no pun intended.”

“You know he can’t come back to Roswell.”

“Then he’ll have to stay here. And maybe someday when I’m not monumentally pissed at him I’ll come back here to visit him.”

Michael withdrew slightly, surprised. The Evans children had always been inseparable and he wondered if this was only Isabel’s anger speaking.

“I want to go home,” she repeated, meeting his dark eyes with her own. Then her bottom lip quivered and tears flooded from those eyes. “I want to go home,” she cried.

Being a dutiful friend, Michael put his arms around her and held her to him. He didn’t hold her as a lover would, however, didn’t bury his face in her pretty auburn locks, didn’t try to absorb her pain as his own. He held her like a friend, like a brother, like a warm shoulder to cry on.

Because in reality, that’s all he was. His heart had never belonged to his wife. It had always belonged to someone a thousand miles and a lifetime away, someone he never thought he’d have the chance to see again.

Until now.

*~*~*~*~*

“So, that’s it then?” Max’s voice seemed small in the chilly afternoon air.

Standing beside him, bundled up in a sweater and jacket, Liz nodded.

“They’ll leave,” he said.

“You don’t know that Michael will go.”

He smiled knowingly at her. Max knew that Michael had never forgotten Maria, had never really been able to let her go. And he knew that if the tables were turned and it was Max who had the chance to see Liz again, he would go, knowing that Michael would understand.

“He’ll go,” Max said. “They’ll both go back to Roswell.” He looked up at the gray sky, at the light mist that had started to fall, remembered that the skies in New Mexico never looked like the ones in New York and Canada. “And you’ll go home too.”

Liz reached out and took his hand. “Only because I have to,” she said softly. “But I will return as often as I can.”

He dropped his gaze to hers and shook his head. “It will be too risky now. Once Michael and Isabel go home, people will ask questions about where I am. I can’t ask them to lie and say I’m dead or something.”

“Max, they won’t give up your location,” she half-laughed in disbelief, not wanting to think that Max would think them traitors.

“I know. But they will be watched and so will you. I don’t think you’ll get away with the expedition excuse anymore.”

Liz paled, knowing it was true. “What if you came home with me?”

He raised a quick eyebrow and shook his head. “You know I can’t, Liz.”

“But what if the sheriff could help?”

“And what if he can’t?”

Her eyes desperately searched his and then fell to the damp sidewalk. He reached over and lifted her chin, gave her a soft kiss.

“This isn’t goodbye,” she denied, trying to force the lump out of her throat.

Max only tilted his head and gave her a small smile.

“I won’t let it be goodbye,” she said defiantly. “We’ll find some other way.”

He nodded but she felt as though he was patronizing her.

Unable to stop them, silent tears seeped from her eyes. She wiped them away with the cuff of her jacket sleeve, looked away while she fought the rest of the deluge away. Across the street, a young couple dashed around a mud puddle, laughing as they held hands and ran for cover. Lovers, newly weds. People who would be infinitely happier than she would be.

“We have one more night,” Liz said, turning her attention back to Max, who’d been watching her silently. “I don’t want to talk about being apart, I just want to spent our time with each other.”

He gave her a nod.

“But I need to make that call first,” she said, snapping out of her funk and rummaging in her purse for her cell phone. “It’s not fair to have her blind-sided.”

She paused before hitting the speed dial code, gave Max one last look, searching for approval. He nodded again, rubbed her arm in reassurance. Liz hit the button, put the phone to her ear and waited until it was picked up on the other end.

“Maria, it’s Liz. No, I’m fine, nothing’s wrong. It’s just that I have something to tell you. Please don’t be mad.”

tbc

Part Five

One hour earlier.

“Mmm, something smells good,” Jesse said as he wrapped his arms around Maria from behind.

“It’s the apple pie,” she explained, gesturing toward the pastry cooling on the counter.

“Oh! My favorite!” And just like that he abandoned her to lean over the pie and breathe in deeply.

Maria smiled at him, finished rinsing the pot she’d been washing and wiped her hands on a dish towel.

“Where did you learn to bake?” Jesse asked.

“My mom,” Maria sighed, remembering all too well her mother and the sheriff flirting over pies, using way more innuendo than she cared to dwell on.

Jesse straightened. “Really? I’ve never seen your mother bake anything.”

Maria grimaced slightly. “That’s because she saves all of her ‘pie’ for Jim.” She shuddered, then moved for the cupboard, pulled out three plates.

“Oh, I forgot – Eric won’t be joining us,” Jesse announced as he moved to get silverware from the drawer.

Inside, Maria leapt for joy. She didn’t mind most of Jesse’s friends, even the frat boys who dropped in every now and then from Cornell and Harvard. She didn’t, however, care at all for Eric Hughes. Maybe it was because the reporter always seemed to be snooping, like everyone was holding out on him, harboring the next big scoop. She didn’t even like having her mail lying around when he came to visit. Of course, the fact that she held one of the answers to one of the biggest secrets in Roswell history probably helped fuel her paranoia.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she said as she put one of the plates back into the cupboard. “Out chasing aliens again?”

Jesse laughed at the joke. “Probably. Actually I didn’t ask him where he was going. Maybe he’s finally got a girlfriend or something.”

“Who would have him?” Maria muttered, then felt a surge of guilt. Jesse hadn’t heard her, apparently, as he didn’t react in any way.

They set the table, a rehearsed dance of those who have lived together for a long time. Once the place settings were laid, Jesse retrieved a bottle of wine from the cellar and popped the cork.

“I saw Phillip Evans today,” he said as he poured them each a glass.

Maria stiffened, hoped she’d covered her reaction. “Really? How’s he doing?”

“He made me that offer again.”

She stopped and turned to him, leaned against the counter, hated the excitement she saw on his handsome face. “Jesse, I don’t know why you even listen to him. It would be a step down for you.”

“Maybe, but only temporarily. I like what he’s doing over there, Maria. I like his drive. I’ve never seen a man of his age so motivated.”

She turned away before he could see her face. Phillip Evans was driven because he had nothing else left in his life. In one night, ten years ago, all he believed to be true came crashing to the ground. His children were a fraud. His life was a fraud. He’d been duped to the nth degree. Anyone who’d endured that would bury himself in his work.

Maria felt warm, strong arms on her shoulders.

“Hey,” Jesse’s voice, soft and close to her ear. “Talk to me.”

She turned around, pinned between his body and the counter. His dark eyes were searching, looking for her pain. It was always this way – he’d look and she would never give in. He must have been so confused.

“Why do you want to work for Mr. Evans?” she asked levelly.

“I’d like to live a little, Maria.”

She glanced around their palatial home, at their fine things. “This isn’t living?”

“This is just stuff. I’d like to roam a little, before I’m old and gray or we have kids. Don’t you want to know what it’s like to live somewhere else? Phil has contacts in Boston. Wouldn’t it be cool to live there?”

Maria knew she paled. It was bad enough that she was going to change her name – Jesse preferred that she didn’t hyphenate – but now he wanted to relocate thousands of miles away as well. There’s no way Michael would ever find her when he came back.

Immediately she felt sick, sick that she’d even had that thought. Michael was not coming back. Not in this lifetime. He was gone, probably dead. And she had no right to even think about him while she stood in Jesse’s arms, while she slept in his bed and lived in his home and claimed to love him.

“Hey, you okay?” Jesse asked.

One hand went slowly to her mouth and she nodded unconvincingly.

“Here, sit,” he said, pulling out a chair for her at the table. “Do you need some water?”

“No, Jesse, I’m fine. It’s just…too much right now.”

He studied her for a moment, then broke into an understanding smile. “Of course, we have the wedding to think about. That’s a lot of stress. What am I thinking?” He kissed the top of her head and caressed her cheek. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t considerate of me.”

Maria breathed a small laugh and touched his hand. He was a kind man. And he was here, on this world. What more could she want?

“Let’s get dinner on the table,” she said, pushing herself up and going to the stove. As she pulled the roast from the oven, she tried to push thoughts of alien-hunting reporters and weddings and jobs in Boston from her head.

They talked amicably while they ate, and when they were done, Jesse pulled a brochure from his jacket pocket. Maria eyed it with interest.

“I’ve been thinking about our honeymoon,” he teased.

“Oh – the good part,” she said, leaning forward to try to sneak a peak at the pamphlet.

Jesse turned his shoulder so that she couldn’t see what was in his hand. “I thought of someplace warm.”

“Like New Mexico isn’t?”

“Not that warm. And with water. Lots of water. And palm trees.”

“I’m hooked already.”

Grinning widely, he held up the brochure. La Jolla. The first thing Maria’s eyes lit on was the image of a golfer happily stepping into a golf cart. Her expression froze, then she lifted her eyes to her fiancé’s.

“Golfing?” she finally said.

“There are other things to do,” he half-sputtered, as though he hadn’t been expecting an objection to golfing.

“Like?”

“Snorkeling.”

“I can’t swim.”

“Hiking!”

“I hate the woods.”

“Shopping?”

“Okay, you’ve got me there.”

He beamed and slid the leaflet toward her. “I’ll leave this with you. Check it out, tell me what you think. Go on the web, see what else is near. I think it would be fun.”

She managed a smile and took the advertisement. The least she could do was look it over.

But it would have to wait until later. Now it was time for dessert. She placed the pie on the table, then got some Reddi-Whip from the refrigerator. As she was getting plates, she noticed Jesse shaking the can of whipped topping slowly, his mind elsewhere. When she returned to the table, he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

Slowly, sensually, he ran his tanned fingers across her fair skin, toward her shoulder. “Do you remember?” he asked, his voice low. “Do you remember that time in the kitchen where you used to work?”

Maria smiled, excitement suddenly racing through her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do.” With his free hand, he gave the can a couple of slow shakes. “You were in the back, cleaning up all by yourself. I stopped in, just to say hi.” His eyes shifted to the red and white can. “And there on the counter…”

Maria swallowed hard, bits and pieces of a memory flashing through her head. A darkened kitchen, a glowing exit sign, the heat of his skin, the chill of the can…

“I see you do remember,” Jesse murmured.

Turning her hand over, he sprayed a small stream of cream onto her palm, then licked it off with the lightest of touches. She shuddered, in a good way.

“Dessert can wait,” he said, jumping to his feet and crushing her against him.

Just as the first bits of clothing were being shed, Maria’s cell phone rang, and she recognized the ring tone as the one she’d assigned to Liz.

“I have to get that,” she said between kisses.

“It can wait.”

“I promised I’d pick up if she called.”

“She can leave a message.”

But Maria pulled away anyway, to rummage in her purse for the phone. Jesse followed her, placing small kissed against her neck.

“Hello?”

“Maria, it’s Liz.” She sounded flustered and Maria’s brow immediately furrowed.

“Is something wrong? You sound upset or something.”

“No, I’m fine, nothing’s wrong. It’s just that I have something to tell you.”

Uneasiness settled into Maria’s body, enough so that Jesse pulled away and looked at her with concern. “What is it?”

On the other end, there was a sigh of desperation. “Please don’t be mad.”

tbc

Part Six

The apartment was dark and silent by the time Max returned home from Niagara Falls. He quietly pushed the door closed behind him, carefully laid his keys on the kitchen counter and shed his coat. Michael wasn’t camped on the couch like he normally was and Max frowned. Either Michael was in his own bed, or he was in Isabel’s, comforting her. Max hated the thought – not because he begrudged Isabel the sympathy, but simply because there was a need for it.

Stepping cautiously, he walked down the hall, heard a distinct snore emitting from Michael’s room. One side of Max’s lip quirked into an amused smile – not even a revelation like Liz Parker knowing where they were could rob Michael of slumber. A couple of more steps and he was at Isabel’s door. Before he could even debate if he should wake her or not, she rolled toward him; it was too dark to see her face, but Max knew she was looking at him.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

There was a pause, a sigh, then a rustling of bed linens as her lamp jumped to life and illuminated the room in a soft glow. She sat up, against the headboard, and looked at him with what he could only describe as no expression.

Swallowing back his discomfort, Max stepped into the room and gently tugged the door closed behind him; no sense in waking Michael. He spared Isabel the indignity of asking her why she was still awake.

“Where’s Liz?” she asked, no malice in her tone, but something shined briefly in her eyes.

“She’s on her way back to Roswell. She was going anyway.”

They simply looked at each other for a moment, then Isabel motioned to the end of the bed. “Sit down,” she said. “You’re hovering.”

He sat obediently, his gaze falling to her Liz Claiborne comforter. It was grayish blue and had leaves all over it. He remembered when she bought it, that day they’d shopped for their own Christmas presents, making jokes about how this was how gift-giving should be done. He thought that maybe Christmases now on would be much different.

“I’m sorry, Isabel,” he finally said, lifting his eyes to hers.

She worked her mouth, but didn’t reply.

“I was wrong. I should have let you and Michael know about Liz. But there’s something you haven’t considered.”

She looked at him with curiosity.

“You accused me of having everything I ever wanted. And it’s true that I have a very large part of what I’ve always wanted, but…” He looked around the room, up at the ceiling, then back to his sister. “Do you really think this is all I ever wanted for myself? Do you think I wanted to be living in this dead city, working in a dead-end job, using aliases everywhere I go? Do you think maybe I wanted something more for myself, and for Liz?”

Max fell silent, his questions rhetorical, then drew in a deep breath. “I know that I can’t go back there, that Liz will have to continue to lie because of me and what I’ve done. I knew that I had the chance to at least have her with me, sometimes. Maybe I was a little tunnel-visioned because of that. If I could go back sixteen months, I’d do it over again. But I can’t. All I can do is fix the future. I can’t go back, Isabel, but I want you to.”

Isabel’s dark eyebrows rose sharply and Max held up a hand to stop any protests on her part.

“I’m not giving you permission,” he clarified. “It’s not my place. I just want you to know that I’ll understand if you want to go.” One corner of his lip lifted in a sad smile. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but I’ll understand.”

There was a long pause, then Isabel reached out and pulled her to him in a tight embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered against his ear.

*~*~*~*~*

Not dead.

Alive.

Not gone.

Here.

Maria listened to the rain as it pattered against the windows of her bedroom. On the bed, Jesse slept facing away from her, unaware that it was three in the morning and she was still awake, still replaying Liz’s phone call in her mind.

“I’m not on expedition, Maria. I’ve actually never been on an expedition.”

At first, Liz’s words had frightened her. What had she gotten herself into? Was it something with the FBI? Was she working undercover for them or something?

Then the next sentence had shocked Maria to the core.

“I’m with Max.”

Maria closed her eyes, still able to hear her friend’s voice in her ear.

“Please don’t be mad.”

Mad? She didn’t think she had the capacity to be mad, not when every emotion inside of her collided and ground her world to a halt. She’d momentarily forgotten that Jesse was there, then she’d excused herself to take the call in private.

“What are you telling me, Liz? That they’re alive? That they’ve come back to earth?”

“No, Maria. They’re alive, but they never left.”

“They never left? Where have they been for ten years?” Anger had definitely flared there, when she thought about the hours and days and months and years of grief that she’d endured. “Is Michael with them?”

A pause. “Yes.”

Maria’s eyes shifted to Jesse. She’d lied to him this night, told him that Liz’s aunt in Florida had passed away, that’s why Liz was upset and Maria was a little shaky. He’d never met nor heard of this aunt from Florida, so he’d had no way of knowing that she’d died seven years ago, victim of a boat crash off the Keys. He’d been compassionate, held her for a while, ceased his romantic onslaught.

Maria’s eyes narrowed as she remembered a conversation before dinner. He’d wanted to see the world, move to Boston. Looking back on it, she had to wonder if he’d been testing her. He’d already lived in the Boston area, when he’d gone to Harvard – why would he act so excited about it now?

Just to see if she’d be excited too? Just to find out why she had no desire to leave New Mexico and its hot, dusty climate? It was possible. Maybe he hadn’t been able to figure that out about her, why someone who liked designer-label fashion and followed the music industry like a fanatic would choose to stay here.

And she knew there was only one reason she languished here, in a tourist-trap of a small town. So that one day if Michael Guerin happened to float back to earth, he’d know where to start looking for her. Well, it appeared that the joke was on her, since Michael hadn’t floated anywhere and hadn’t cared at all to look for her. It hurt more than she could have imagined.

What about Tess? Was she still with them? Was she the reason Michael hadn’t bothered to contact Maria? Was he protecting her? It was possible that the others had figured out that she killed Alex, just as Liz had figured it out. Maybe running was their only option. But to think he’d throw away all he’d worked for to protect that tramp angered Maria more than Liz’s deceptions ever could.

There hadn’t been time to have all of her questions answered. It still wasn’t safe to discuss some things over the phone. Maria would have to wait until Liz returned that morning to get the answers she wanted. She hoped she had the stomach to hear it all.

*~*~*~*~*

The bell attached to the door of Amy’s shop chimed happily as Maria pushed through it, a cardboard tray filled with coffee cups in her hand.

“Well, lookey here,” Jim said in greeting, playing the gentleman and taking the tray from her. “Aren’t you a pleasant sight this morning?”

Of course, the sight of her was more pleasant than it could have been, considering her Ray Bans were covering the dark circles under her eyes. “Is my mom here?” she asked.

Jim’s smile faded a bit, having sensed that something wasn’t quite right. “She’s in the back, I can get her if –”

“No, that’s okay. Just leave her coffee and come with me.”

The ex-sheriff’s brow furrowed, but he conceded anyway. He called into the back room that he was stepping out for a moment, then followed Maria outside. It was early in the day, but the sun was already baking down on them.

“Is everything okay?” he asked as he pulled the door closed behind him to preserve the air conditioning.

Maria motioned up the street. “Let’s walk a bit – I don’t want Mom to see us and ask questions.”

Jim watched her curiously as they moved down the block to where Maria’s car was parked out of view of the store. “Okay, I think we’re far enough away. What’s going on?”

“Liz called me last night.” She crossed her arms over her midsection in an act of vulnerability that she immediately hated. “From Niagara Falls.”

Jim’s scowl deepened. “I thought she was in one of the Dakotas, digging up fossils.”

“Oh, she’s dug up more than that. She was with Max.”

Jim stopped, his mouth opened slightly, but he recovered quickly. “That right?”

Maria nodded. “I guess this has been going on for awhile now. Isabel busted them because Max got careless with some hotel information. Liz wanted me to find out before someone might pop up that shouldn’t.”

“Wow.” Jim put his hands on his hips and looked at the sidewalk, then back to Maria. “So they’re coming back here?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know much at all. But I do know that if they just reappear unannounced, it’s going to throw Kyle for a loop.”

Jim ran a hand through his graying hair, his expression one of worry and resignation. They both knew that Kyle hadn’t dealt well with the happenings ten years prior. There was no predicting how he’d react to the hybrids’ return.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll see if I can talk to him.”

“There’s something else,” Maria said, her voice a little more tense. “I didn’t have time to get all of the details from Liz, but I think Tess might be with them. I want you to promise she’ll pay for killing Alex.”

tbc

Eh, a little later than I'd intended

Part Seven

Liz’s eyes burned and no amount of digging them with the heels of her hands seemed to be helping. In the last year, she’d discovered that flying across the country was never easy, especially when the Midwest was involved – thunderstorms and snowstorms seemed to pop up without much warning, delaying and sometimes canceling flights.

Which is exactly what had happened to her the night before. She’d said goodbye to Max, then had packed up the car and headed for the airport in Buffalo. As soon as she’d gotten there, she’d watched the monitors display delays one by one, until her flight was ultimately cancelled. She’d refused the airline’s offer of a room for the night, for fear that she’d oversleep and miss her opportunity to book the first flight in the morning, and had instead camped on a series of chairs that had been contoured for peoples’ butts rather than their backs.

All of her toiletries were packed in her bag and had already gone through security, but she’d been lucky enough to purchase a toothbrush and toothpaste at the gift shop – at a premium, of course.

Liz dropped her hands from her red eyes and sat back in her seat. She supposed she could have called Max and they could have spent one more night together, but she’d already said her goodbyes and didn’t want to have to go through that again. Every time they parted, it was like a little piece of her heart died. And this time was different – with their cover about to be blown, Max would be on the run again and she really didn’t know when she’d see him again.

Momentary anxiety flared beneath her breastbone at the thought. She remembered all too well what it was like all of those years, wondering where he was, if he’d survived the trip to Antar. It had been agonizing, but now she realized that she could find him again through the use of her powers.

It was a hollow comfort. Because all of this time, Maria had probably been feeling the same loss and uncertainty that Liz had felt. And Liz had withheld information from her, had kept it her big secret, had been selfish enough to think that Maria had moved on.

But she had moved on, hadn’t she? After all, she was picking out Vera Wang wedding gowns and ordering caviar and champagne for her wedding – a nuptials that did not include Michael Guerin. What good could come of knowing that he was still alive and on earth? Maria was better off with Jesse.

Liz frowned. When had it become her right to make that decision for her best friend? It wasn’t her right and it was an insult to think that Maria couldn’t make that decision for herself. Groaning, Liz rubbed her forehead – she’d made a horrible mistake, had an awful mess to come home to. Maria may never speak to her again.

And it wasn’t only Maria who was angry. Liz couldn’t get the look on Isabel’s face out of her mind. The Ice Princess had practically frozen her to the floor of that tacky motel room. When they’d first encountered her in the parking lot, Liz hadn’t recognized her – Isabel’s hair color was different, but it wasn’t just that. The years had had a hardening effect on her – she seemed harsh around the edges. Liz wondered if Michael had endured the same.

Almost as though her mind had suggested it, Liz’s eyes fell on a man standing at the check-in counter. Absurdly, she thought that he looked like Michael Guerin, but this person was thinner, his hair cropped close to his head. Couldn’t be him – it was her mind conjuring him up since she’d just been thinking of him.

Then he turned around and Liz’s eyes popped open wide. It was Michael, only a slightly modified, matured version of him. She knew it for sure when her eyes shifted to his left and found Isabel stuffing her ID back into her wallet. Liz’s heart jumped – they were on the same flight.

*~*~*~*~*

Jim paused outside of the garage, his eyes drifting upward to the sign above the bay doors – Kyle’s Custom Cars. Inside, he felt a tug of pride. It hadn’t been an easy go for his son, not given his less-than-stellar academic record compounded by some pretty traumatic extra-terrestrial activity. But somehow the boy – no, Jim corrected himself, the man – had managed to put together a successful business that had nothing to do with alien tourism in a town that was all about alien tourism.

Several years after graduation, Kyle had found an abandoned garage on the outskirts of town, then had busted his ass with every job he could find – sometimes three at a time – to get enough money to buy it. While he was saving, he’d studied every car manual available, had gone to junkyards to strip cars then dissect their parts, to determine how they worked. Within two years, he opened his own car shop and within a few months of that had his first customer.

And he’d never looked back. It was all about supping up the new cars and refurbishing the old ones. He really had a knack for it, for understanding what his customer wanted and the best way to deliver. He’d even worked to the point of being able to hire a helper, a young kid still in high school who was one of the most naturally-born grease monkeys Jim had ever met.

Today’s car was a ’69 Firebird convertible, still covered in primer and missing its wheels and ragtop. When Jim pushed through the door of the shop, he found Kyle on the phone, negotiating for a carburetor.

“Come on, Lance – I know you want that T-bird clutch I’ve got,” Kyle said into the receiver, giving his father a nod when he spotted him. “Oh, bullshit!” he laughed. “You know I’ve got the only one left in the southwest. So why don’t you swap me the clutch for the carburetor straight up? No? Alright then, there’s someone in Clovis who’s been dying to get their hands on it. What? Sure I’ll give you time to think about it. How does an hour sound?”

Obviously having been hung up on, Kyle laughed and replaced the receiver. Jim chuckled at the sight of the phone – it was still an ancient desktop-type, the kind that if it were a few years older would still have a rotary dial. Kyle had found it within the junk abandoned in the garage and had kept it when he discovered it still worked.

“Hey, pop,” Kyle said, leaning forward on the counter. “She’s a beauty, huh?”

Jim eyed the Firebird skeptically, but knew in his heart that in a few months she would definitely be a beauty and would haul in a nice penny. “She sure will be.”

“I’m going to paint her red. She just screams to be red.”

Jim nodded in agreement.

“So, what brings you by?” Kyle asked, tossing the phone book onto a shelf with a stack of papers. For the neat work area he ran in the shop, he desperately needed someone to organize his office.

Jim shifted his weight and stuck his hands into his pockets, tried to act casual. “Saw Maria Deluca this morning.”

Kyle grinned. “Yeah? How’s she doing?”

“Um, she has some news, Kyle.”

Kyle’s smile faded. “What? Is someone sick?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Whew. Thank God.”

“She talked with Liz last night. Kyle, she’s been seeing Max Evans.”

All of the color drained from Kyle’s face as he froze and for one long moment Jim thought he was going to faint.

“You okay, son?”

“Why?” Kyle managed. “I mean, how?”

“They’ve been living in Pennsylvania.”

Kyle swallowed. “Since when?”

“Not sure exactly. They probably moved around a bit at first, but I get the feeling they’ve been in PA for a while now.”

“At first?” Some of the color was returning to Kyle’s face, and it was decidedly red. “What do you mean at first?”

“They never left. They’ve been here the whole time.”

“Son of a bitch,” he breathed, braced his palms against the countertop.

“Maria wanted me to break the news to you,” Jim said calmly.

Kyle shot him a look. “Why? It’s not like I’m heading to Pennsylvania for a happy reunion.” He must have read his father’s expression, because he straightened, disbelief in his eyes. “Or are you telling me they’re coming here?”

Jim gave a little shrug. “I don’t know anything for sure. But now that their cover’s been blown, I wouldn’t be surprised to see them back here sometime down the road.”

Kyle’s jaw set so hard Jim thought he might break his teeth. “Well,” he finally said. “I suggest you keep them away from me. Because I can’t promise I won’t kill at least one of them.”

*~*~*~*~*

Liz tried to act like she was engrossed in her book, but there was no ignoring the shadow that fell over her. Slowly she lifted her eyes, up toward the ceiling where they encountered the stoic face of Michael Guerin. Behind him, Isabel was a little less expressionless, her head and hip cocked in annoyance.

“Good book?” Michael asked.

Liz felt a stab from the past, since it had been so long since she’d heard Michael’s voice. It was the same voice, coming from this different person. She didn’t bother to answer the book question.

“Going home already?” she asked, her eyes flitting to Isabel. “That didn’t take much time.”

“I’ve been wanting to go home for the better part of ten years,” Isabel snapped. “Why should I wait?”

Michael glanced over his shoulder, then Isabel huffed and walked away rather quickly. He watched her go, then turned back to Liz.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “She’s just upset and needs to take it out on someone. Max isn’t here, so you’re the lucky one. Good book?”

Liz looked down at the novel. “Not really,” she said quietly.

Michael paused a moment, then sat down beside her, his long legs stretched out casually before him. “What seat are you in?”

She looked at him curiously and when he lifted his eyebrows in question, she dug the boarding pass out of the book and glanced at it. “32A.”

“Good. We’re in row 15 – I won’t have to play referee all of the way to New Mexico.”

Liz sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t mean to sound like such a bitch. I just didn’t expect you guys to come home so quickly. I don’t think other people are expecting that either.” She gave him a pointed look, hoping he got the message.

Which apparently he did as he pursed his lips and gave a nod. His eyes settled on Isabel, who was getting coffee at a kiosk a ways down the midway.

“She knows,” he said rather than asked, speaking of Maria rather than Isabel.

“Yeah,” Liz said slowly. “I couldn’t let her be blindsided.”

“Still a good friend.” He looked away for a moment, then asked, “Does she have kids?”

Liz shook her head.

“Is she married?”

Involuntarily, she looked down at the ring on Michael’s finger. “No.”

There was a hint of hope in his eyes that hit Liz right in the heart. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t let him be taken off guard any more than she could let that happen to Maria. Heaving a sigh, she rubbed her forehead.

“She’s engaged.”

Michael’s head snapped in her direction.

“He’s a lawyer. They’re getting married in six months.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Is she happy?”

Liz wanted to lie and say yes, just to send Michael in the opposite direction, but she couldn’t lie about anything anymore. “I don’t know.”

tbc

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!


Part Eight

Michael shifted his weight in the cramped airplane seat, shoved one of his feet into the aisle only to move it five seconds later when the flight attendant needed to pass with her drink cart. In truth, he hated flying, hated it with a passion. Not because he was afraid of crashing or anything like that, but because he disliked everything about it – being confined for hours on end, being confined with two hundred strangers, being confined in a seat that was built for a ten-year-old’s ass and not a grown man’s. He found the whole experience confining and frustrating.

Beside him, Isabel had her face turned to the window, but he could tell she was smiling – grinning from ear to ear, actually. While it did his heart good to see her truly happy for the first time in years, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t somewhat leery about going home. What were they going to say to her parents? Was the truth of what really happened any worse than the truth Max and Isabel had recorded on the family video camera that fateful night? And how did they know that the Evanses hadn’t been spearheading an anti-alien campaign since they’d received confirmation that their children were definitely “different”?

Because Liz wouldn’t set them up that way. He tried to let that be a reassurance, but he had never truly trusted Liz and now he felt like they were talking one giant leap of faith.

“Drink?” the flight attendant asked, startling him out of his musing.

“Nothing for me,” he said, trying to smile and knowing his in no way matched hers on the perkiness scale.

“Could I have soda with a splash of cranberry juice?” Isabel piped in.

The attendant went about making the drink while Michael waited patiently. Once Isabel had her soda and the woman had moved on, he cleared his throat and jerked his thumb toward the back of the plane.

“Nature’s calling,” he said to his travel mate, then hastily made his retreat.

It felt good to stand, which was a good thing since there was a line for the lavatory – another thing he hated about air travel. While he waited, though, he spotted Liz in one of the last rows, her gaze fixed out the window. To him, she looked small and sad and not at all like she was trying to avoid him like she had back at the airport. He felt a tug of sympathy for her – while he and Isabel were returning home in excitement, Liz had said goodbye to everything she loved.

And now maybe he’d have to say goodbye to everything he loved as well. He may have had Isabel’s ring on his finger, but there was only one girl he’d ever really loved. And from what Liz had said, she was about to marry someone else. While he wanted to be selfish and fight to have her back, he knew he’d given up that right ten years prior.

*~*~*~*~*

“What do you want me to do? Do you want me to call 911?”

Maria was surprised that her voice was as calm as it was, considering that Kyle was doubled up on the bed in his apartment behind the garage, his hands tightly clasping his head.

“No,” he said, his voice strained.

In her pocket, her cell phone started chiming out a Latino dance tune.

“God, shut that fucking thing off!”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled apologetically, reaching into her pocket and silencing the device. “Kyle, it’s never been this bad – tell me what I need to do.”

“Just go away.”

“I can’t and I won’t.” She glanced at her watch. In an hour she’d have to leave to get Liz at the airport, but Kyle didn’t need to know that. Besides, perhaps paying a cab to bring her home would be a good penance for Ms. Parker. “Let me help you.”

Kyle uncoiled enough to look at her through the slits of his eyes, his breath a shallow pant. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Wanna bet?” She gave him a little smile and reached for his head.

“Don’t touch me!” he cried in panic.

“It’s okay,” she said soothingly, gently pushing his hands out of the way. “Everything is okay.”

Slowly, she started massaging his temples in small circles. At first he flinched and tried to push her away, but she was persistent, rubbing all of the important pressure points.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad, Kyle,” she whispered. “It doesn’t really hurt at all.”

His body started to relax and he started to breathe more evenly.

“If you go to sleep, the pain will be all gone when you awake.” Or at least she hoped.

“I can’t believe they’re coming back,” he hiccupped and Maria realized there were wet tracks on his cheeks.

“They are,” she agreed, wiping away his tears with her thumbs. “But we can take them. You and me.” She gave a little laugh, hoped he bought it, then her fake joviality diminished. “I won’t let them hurt us again.”

Shifting her weight, she slid onto the bed with him and gently laid his head on her shoulder.

“Try to sleep,” she said. “I’ll stay here with you. Then later I’m going to bring you some of that soup that you like from the Crashdown, okay? Just sleep, Kyle.”

As she lay there staring at the ceiling and listening to his ragged breathing, worry crowded her mind. The headaches were getting worse and she wondered at what point they would begin to harm him or threaten his life.

*~*~*~*~*

As Michael exited the airplane bathroom and edged past the next person in line, he saw Liz drop her cell phone to her lap in frustration. Without invitation, he slid into the empty seat beside her.

“No reception?”

She jerked his way, then blew out a tired sigh. “No, that’s not it. I’ve been trying to call Maria for the last hour and her cell phone is going straight to voicemail.”

Michael shrugged. “No problem. Iz and I are renting a car, so we can give you a ride…” His voice trailed off as Liz pursed her lips.

“Maria is my ride, Michael. I called her in Buffalo, before I knew we were on the same flight.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want her to be blind-sided.”

“Of course not.”

Liz sighed again. “Look, can you just try to avoid her? You guys will probably exit the plane before me since I’m sitting so far back. I don’t think she’s expecting you to be back in Roswell so soon and…” She stopped, glanced around. “I haven’t told her everything, Michael. Some things still can’t be said over the phone.”

“Understood. I’ll warn Isabel.”

“Thanks.”

Michael hesitated a moment. “Is there something else?”

“Something else?”

“You seem upset.”

“Why would I be upset? I’ve been lying to my best friend for the last year and a half, she’s about to be taken off guard by her old boyfriend and I had to leave Max behind. Again.” Her voice lost its vehemence once she got to Max’s name.

Michael nodded in understanding as she talked, then waited a few moments for her to compose herself. “I know you know why Max couldn’t come back with us,” he began. “And if it weren’t for what he did, we wouldn’t be around to come back at all. You get that, right?”

Liz nodded slowly, though Michael could tell she didn’t buy it one hundred percent. His eyebrows furrowed slightly and he suddenly wondered if maybe Max hadn’t spilled all of the gruesome details to her.

“Sir,” the attendant said from the aisle. “I need you to go back to your seat. We’re about to start our descent.”

“Of course,” he said, pushing himself up and walking in confusion back to his seat.

Isabel’s eyebrows lifted when she saw him. “You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said hurriedly. “I want to go to Mom and Dad’s as soon as we get the car, okay?”

“Sure,” he agreed, because he didn’t really care and there wasn’t anyone in Roswell he needed to visit anyway. “Oh, by the way, Maria is picking up Liz at the airport.”

Isabel’s expression went neutral as she was trying to find meaning in that statement.

Michael filled in the blank for her. “So try not to be a bitch, okay?”

*~*~*~*~*

Maria hustled through the airport, the piece of paper with Liz’s flight information scratched on it clutched firmly in one hand. It had taken Kyle a long time to fall asleep and now she was running late.

“Gate B,” she said to herself, cursing for having worn the Jimmy Choo’s today – definitely poor for running.

She located the gate, breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the plane had just taxied to the gate. Not that having to wait a bit would have done Liz any harm, Maria thought with a snort. Funny how she kept trying so hard to fulfill her commitments to her friend and then would think of a punishment for her in the next breath. Something told her the bitterness was going to last a long time.

But at least they would have some time to sort things out before the alien invasion happened again. This time they would have a game plan, figure out what to do about the alien abyss, help each other from being sucked in – even though Maria suspected Liz had never really extracted herself from it.

Things would be different this time. They wouldn’t allow them to get under their skins, to put out their ET vibes. She was ten years older now, she knew what she was doing.

But when her eyes landed on a tall man coming down the jet way, she realized it was ten years later and she still didn’t have a clue. Her heart seemed to stop in her chest, then pound so hard it took her breath away. At first she hadn’t recognized them, due in part to the fact that Isabel’s hair was way different and Michael’s was mostly missing. But there was no denying that gate, that attitude, that vibe.

Then he was standing before her, looking somewhat guilty and horribly handsome. She was at a loss and supposed her mouth was agape. Then reality came back to her and she realized that once again he’d thrown her off guard, had appeared way before he was supposed to, giving her and Liz no time at all to ward off the attack.

And she said the only thing that she could think of.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

tbc

Lots of yelling in this part

Part Nine

I can't go. Ever since we came out of the pods, I've been on some quest to figure out where I belong. I finally found home. The weird thing is, it's here, it's on earth.

He would have stayed for her, no matter that the end result was not what they’d all anticipated. He’d been ready to walk away from those he’d called his family his entire life, knowing he might very well never see either of them again. He was prepared to give away his only chance to see his home world, to get answers he’d craved to the questions he’d had since he could form logical thought. And it would have been worth it, just to wake up to her pretty face every day…

But now that face was glaring at him with something that looked a lot like hatred. Her eyes practically blazed in her skull and if not for the fact that Michael was stunned that she had grown even more beautiful, he might have feared for his life.

Beside him, Isabel snorted. “And you were afraid I was going to be a bitch.”

Maria’s eyes flicked at her once, then back to Michael. “Speaking of bitches, where is she?” She tried to look around him, but he only stood rigidly, his brow furrowed.

“Maria, this isn’t Liz’s fault,” he began.

Maria pointed an exquisitely manicured finger at him. “Some of this is Liz’s fault, but she’s not the bitch I’m talking about.”

The crease in Michael’s brow deepened. “I don’t understand.”

Maria leaned out again, her eyes skimming over the arriving passengers. “Tess, Michael. Where is the little whore? I’m going to kick her stupid blonde ass.”

Michael’s gaze jerked to Isabel, whose eyebrows had shot up in surprise.

Maria straightened. “So, where is she?”

Isabel cleared her throat. “She’s…um, she’s not with us.”

“She didn’t come with you?” Maria threw her hands up in the air. “Well, hallelujah, there is a god!”

With that she pushed past her old acquaintances and approached Liz, who had just exited the jetway. Liz looked appropriately guilty and apologetic all at the same time. Her eyes shifted to Michael and Isabel, then back to Maria.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I tried to call but your cell must be off.”

“I turned it off because I was with Kyle,” Maria said tersely. “He’s…” Her voice trailed off and she stole a sideways glance at the new arrivals. “He’s sick again.”

At that, Isabel dropped all pretense of being made of ice. “Kyle’s sick? When? How? Is it serious?”

Maria’s eyes narrowed as she placed a hand on her hip. “You would know if you’d bothered to pick up a phone in the last ten years!”

Several people turned to look at her and Liz quickly grabbed her by the arm.

“Not here,” she whispered. “I know you’re upset, but not here, Maria.”

Something in Liz’s tone must have hit home, as some of Maria’s attitude dissipated. She pinned Michael with a gaze, then tossed her head toward baggage claim.

“Let’s get your stuff and get out of here,” she said.

She didn’t give Michael or Isabel another look at they passed. Liz, however, looked over her shoulder and gave them a look of empathy. They didn’t get far when Maria pivoted on one heel, returned to stand before Michael and jabbed a finger in his direction again.

“And you!” she spat. “I haven’t been able to watch one episode of Scooby Doo since you did what you did! You’ve even ruined that for me!”

Michael looked like he wanted to smirk, but that went away when he looked down at her hand. “Nice ring.”

She seemed momentarily thrown, then all of the attitude came back. “Don’t think I didn’t notice yours as well.” Her eyes moved to Isabel. “Congratulations. He’s quite a prize.”

Isabel only looked away, her eyes downcast.

“Maria,” Liz pleaded. “Let’s just go.”

Her friend finally relented, though Liz could feel the anger coming off her in waves.

As they walked away, Isabel turned to Michael. “I’m worried about Kyle. Has Max said anything about him?”

Michael pursed his lips. “When would he have said something? I only found out yesterday he was even talking to anyone here. Then you had to hurry up and come home and all I got to say to Max was ‘See you later.’”

The edge to his tone was not lost on her; her eyes narrowed immediately. “Don’t start this shit, Michael. You didn’t have to come.”

Involuntarily, his eyes moved to Liz and Maria – specifically Maria – who were quickly disappearing from sight.

Isabel snorted. “Oh, please. Did you really think she waited for you? Is that why you wanted to come here? It’s been ten years!”

“But I waited for her,” he said quietly.

Isabel’s brow furrowed. “I don’t want to talk about this. I want to get our bags, get a car and go see Mom and Dad. This is supposed to be a happy time, Michael.”

Maria was finally gone from sight, so Michael turned his attention to Isabel. “I am happy. Can’t you tell? Happy, happy.”

*~*~*~*~*

“I can’t believe they’re here,” Maria griped, tossing Liz’s bag roughly into the back of her Volvo. She hadn’t stopped complaining since they’d left the aliens at the arrival gate.

“It’s not my fault,” Liz said for the tenth time.

Maria angrily jerked open the driver’s side door. “Of course it’s your fault. Why did you let them come?”

Liz blinked twice, then got into the car and had to concentrate to not slam her door. Maria slid behind the wheel and jabbed the keys into the ignition.

“I didn’t let them come,” Liz defended. “They adults, they can go wherever they want.”

“Really? Since when? I thought they’d been shackled to a wall in Pennsylvania, the way you talked yesterday. And if they could go wherever they wanted, why haven’t they been home in ten years?”

Liz looked like she wanted to say something, then fell back in her seat, her gaze fixed out of the windshield.

“Well?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Oh, for the love of God!” Maria spat, throwing her hands into the air. “I haven’t heard that excuse out of you in a decade! Max Evans comes back into your life and all of a sudden it’s complicated?!”

Liz ran a hand through her hair but didn’t respond.

“I’m not stupid, Liz! I can understand complicated situations! So why don’t you do me a favor and give me the whole complicated story?”

“Maria, I can’t talk to you like this,” Liz said. “And I think you’re too agitated for driving.”

Maria looked around them – they were still sitting in the parking lot. “I’m not driving. In fact, I’m not going to drive at all until I get some answers from you.”

Liz looked at her, round-eyed.

“Did you know Michael and Isabel were married?”

“Yes,” Liz answered quietly.

“How long?”

Liz’s brow furrowed. “Since I reconnected with Max –”

“No, how long have they been married?”

“I don’t know. Why does it matter? You’re engaged to Jesse.”

Maria paused for a moment as if thrown, then continued the inquisition. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d found them?”

“It wasn’t just you. I didn’t tell anyone, Maria.”

“Why not?”

“Max didn’t want anyone to know where he was.”

“You didn’t have to tell me where he was – he could have just told me you’d found him.”

Liz lifted an eyebrow. “Like that would have stopped you from asking? From demanding? Look at you right now – you can’t stop yourself.”

“I have a right to know, Liz! Michael was the love of my life and I thought he was dead! Do you think I might have wanted to know he was okay, at least?”

Liz looked into her lap, played with her thumbs. “I guess.”

“This has never been just about you and Max, even though you might think so.”

Liz’s head snapped up. “Oh, Maria, I never felt that way.”

Maria tossed a hand in the air. “Whatever. Tell me why Tess didn’t come back with them.”

“She can’t.”

“Why didn’t Max come back with them?”

“He can’t.”

“Are they married?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem? How come if he’s the love of your life, he didn’t hop on a plane as soon as he knew no one here was looking for him? There’s no FBI, no alien hunters – everyone has forgotten about them by now. So why didn’t he – and the little whore – come back here?”

Liz rubbed her face tiredly.

“You know I want to kill that bitch for what she did to Alex.”

“And that would make her want to get on a plane and come here, huh?”

“Are you sympathizing with her?” Maria accused.

“No. I just wish you’d listen to yourself.”

“I want answers, Liz. I want to know when Tess is coming here so I’m ready, so that I’m not blind-sided like I just was.”

“I already apologized for that.”

“Whatever. When is she coming here?”

“She’s not.”

“How do you know?”

Liz looked out the window in defeat, then turned a steady gaze to her friend. “I know for a fact she will never come back to Roswell. It’s impossible.”

For the first time since they’d gotten into the car, Maria hesitated in confusion. “Why?”

“She won’t be coming here because Max killed her.”

tbc

**Used some dialogue from "Departure"