Roswell Fanatics

Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN/MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.

Author’s Note: There was supposed to be an episode in Season Three that involved some sort of time distortion with everybody going back to the day Liz got shot. This is that story. Some of the dialogue is paraphrased from The Pilot, written by Jason Katims. No infringement is intended at all. He was the genius behind the Pilot.

Winds of Change

Chapter One – A Stranger is Watching

He peered into the CrashDown through the large plate glass window. Max Evans sat in a booth, pretending to study, but in actuality, he was studying Liz Parker. Liz, on the other hand was working hard on ignoring Max completely while she delivered plates of food to the many customers in her parent’s café. But instead, her glance kept meeting his, and each time it did, a stain of color appeared on her cheeks.


Things were not going well at all, he thought. Nothing could seem to drive these two apart. Together they were the key to Antar’s salvation. If they were kept apart, Antar would remain enslaved by Kivar. He would do everything in his power to make sure that the couple did not remain together. He knew what he had to do. The attempt could very well kill him, but it would be worth it. He knew he wasn’t ever going to leave this planet. The only way off was with the aid of the Granolith. He was here alone; he’d been alone ever since that genocidal bitch had wiped out the others. Death would be welcomed friend. He’d greet her with opened arms as soon as he set his plan in motion. Giving them one final glance in the window, the man walked away, unconsciously peeling a dry strip of skin from his face.


* * * * *

The alarm clock rang, it’s piercing shriek pulling Liz Parker from the arms of a phantom lover. She groaned and reluctantly rolled over and brought her hand crashing down on the offending appliance, sending it crashing to the floor of her bedroom.

“I’m up, I’m up,” she muttered to the empty room. “I just don’t want to be.”

Liz sat up and pushed the bed sheet off of her already warm body. It was going to be another hot day in Roswell, and a busy one at that. The UFO convention was slated to begin today, and while she enjoyed all the money she’d make, she hated the thousands of UFO-maniacs that flooded the town.

Sighing, she climbed out of the bed and stumbled across the room to her bathroom. She turned the shower on full blast, and climbed in and let the streaming water pour down around her, pounding remorselessly on her body.

Liz turned the water off and wrapped a large towel around her body to absorb the moisture that clung to her in large droplets. She wiped the steam away from the mirror and stared at her reflection. Would she ever find someone to love her the way the phantom in her dreams did? Sure there was Kyle, and he was nice, but he wasn’t the dream lover who crept into her dreams every night.

Liz shook her head, trying to clear away the foolishness that filled her mind. She didn’t have time for this. Her parents needed all the help they could get in the café today. She quickly dried her hair and pinned it up before she slipped into her uniform. She tied on her apron and grimaced when she anchored the alien deelie boppers her father insisted she wear on her head.

* * * * *

“Max Evans is looking at you again,” Maria said.

“No way,” said Liz, turning away from the register to look over to the booth where Max Evans was sitting with his taciturn friend Michael Guerin.

“He is,” Maria insisted. “He is so hot for you.”

“Maria, you’re terrible,” said Liz. “Besides, I’m with Kyle, remember?”

“Oh please, as if Kyle Valenti were even in the same class as Max Evans. It’s like comparing prime rib to hamburger, and Chica, Max is so not the hamburger.”

The two girls laughed for a minute before they resumed their duties in the busy café. Liz delivered two platters to a couple of alien hunters, pausing when she heard shouting behind her. She turned just as the one of the men stood up, sending the dishes on the table crashing to the floor.

A shocked silence filled the café until one of the men pulled out a gun.

“Liz!” Maria yelled as the patrons of the CrashDown scrambled out of their seats and onto the floor. A sharp crack filled the air, and Liz felt something collide with her body, propelling her to the floor.

Liz sat up and looked around. “Maria?” she called. “Oh my God, Maria!” She crawled across the floor to where Maria’s body rested on the floor. A small pool of blood was forming on her abdomen.

“Call and ambulance,” Max Evans said, kneeling down beside her.

“What?” Liz asked, still frozen by the events that had just occurred.

“Liz, do you hear me?” Max asked, staring deeply into her eyes. “I said go call an ambulance.

Liz shook herself from her reverie and jumped and collided with Max’s friend Michael. Michael glared at her, but gave her a gentle shove in the direction of the phone.

“Maxwell, keys!” Michael yelled.

Max reached into his pocket and pulled his keys out and tossed them to Michael who caught them and ran from the restaurant. Max ripped open the front of Maria’s uniform and stared at the pool of blood that was spreading across her abdomen.

“Maria, you have to look at me,” he said. “Open your eyes and look at me. He pressed his hand to her abdomen, and images of Maria as a child filled is mind. He saw her skipping through the playground at school with a small dark haired waif wearing a dress with cupcakes on it. He pulled his hand away, and the wound was healed.

Max grabbed a bottle of ketchup, smashed it on the counter and poured the contents on Maria’s uniform.

“You broke the bottle when you fell and spilled ketchup on yourself. Please don’t say anything.”

“I,” Maria began, but Max had already run from the café.

Thanks so much for all the great feedback everyone. Have faith, and remember, this is posted in the cc forum for a reason
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Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.


Winds of Change

Chapter Two – Connections

“Lizzie! Oh my God, Lizzie, are you okay?” a concerned Jeff Parker yelled, running into the restaurant. “Is that blood?”

“Relax, dad, I’m fine,” said a shaky Liz. “It’s just ketchup from a bottle that broke when Maria fell.”

“Maria? Maria, are you okay?” Jeff asked. “Oh, God, look at you, Maria, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Mr. Parker,” Maria said, her voice wobbling a bit. “Like Liz said. I splashed ketchup on myself when I fell.”

“As long as you to girls are okay,” said Jeff. “That’s the most important thing.” He hugged first Maria, then Liz tightly. Liz could feel his fear like it was a palpable thing. He was so afraid, but it was his fear that made Liz realize that she had to keep what just happened a secret.

“Liz,” Maria whispered. “What the hell just happened?”

“I don’t know,” Liz said. “But I’m going to find out. Just don’t say anything, okay?”

“Say anything to who?” asked Maria. “Who’d believe me?”


* * * * * * * * *

“Liz, he saved me,” Maria said. She rearranged herself so that she sat more comfortably on Liz’s bed. “I was dying, and he saved me. He – he touched my soul. It was almost like he could see into it, and I could see into his.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” said Liz, remembering how she felt when she looked into Max Evans eyes for that fleeting second. She felt as if she were falling, and the only safe haven she would find would be in Max’s eyes. She perched on the windowsill, enjoying the feeling of the curtains blowing around her as she and Maria talked.

“So what happened, anyhow?” asked Maria. “The whole thing is kind of a blur.”

“What do you remember?” asked Liz, cautiously.

“Those two guys were arguing,” said Maria. “The next thing I knew, there was a gun. I remember screaming at you, and then I felt as if someone shoved me, and I went flying into you. After I hit you, I felt this thud, almost like I got hit with during a dodge ball game or something. That’s the last thing I remember.”

“I remember you screaming, and pushing into me, but that’s about it,” Liz admitted. “You saved my life, Maria. If you hadn’t shoved me, that bullet would of hit me, I’m positive.”

“Chica, I love you, you know that, but I have to be honest. I didn’t set out to save you,” said Maria. “I felt like I was rooted to the ground. I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. I’m telling you, someone shoved me into you.”

“It doesn’t matter how you did it,” said Liz. “All that matters is that you did do it. Thank you, Maria.”

*** *** ***

“Damn it,” Nicholas swore softly. He crouched under Liz’s bedroom window, eavesdropping on the conversation between her and Maria. He plan was perfect, and it would have worked if that foolish blond waitress hadn’t gotten in his way. He waited until the exact right second, when the human had pulled out his gun. Nicholas rushed across the café, intent on killing Liz just as the bullet struck her when that ditzy blond shifted slightly, causing him to collide with her. The momentum of his body striking hers drove her forward into Liz Parker, knocking her to the ground.

“Look, Chica, I’ve got to go,” he heard the blond say. “I’ll keep quiet, for now, but if we don’t get some answers soon, I’m going to Sheriff Valenti.”

Nicholas peered in the window and watched the two friends hug each other. This was perfect, he thought to himself. Once the blond left, he’d finish Liz off, and no one would be the wiser. He ducked down and scrambled away from the window as Liz crossed her small room.

Liz climbed out onto the rooftop patio off of her room and walked to the edge to call out a goodbye to her friend. She leaned on the low wall that stood between her and the edge of the roof and looked up into the sky. Millions of stars seemed to twinkle down upon her looking like diamonds spread upon a black velvet cloth.

Abruptly, Liz spun around and walked over to the fire escape. She flung one leg over the side to climb down. A noise across the patio drew her attention and she paused, trying to locate its origin. She waited, but the sound didn’t reoccur. She shrugged her shoulders and continued her descent to street level.

Once on the ground, Liz stopped, unsure of what she wanted to do. Finally, she decided to just start walking. She turned a corner and collided with what felt like a rock wall.

“Umph,” she said, falling to the ground. “Oh, hey, I’m really sorry. I guess I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Watch it,” said a familiar male voice.

“Oh, Michael, hi, how are you doing?”

“Go away, Liz,” Michael said, his voice taciturn. “And stay away, and tell you’re dippy friend to do the same.”

“What?” said Liz, shocked at Michael’s abruptness.

“Stay away from us,” Michael repeated. “And the same goes for Maria.” He turned away and walked down the street, fading into the darkness.

“Michael, wait!” Liz called to the empty street.

*** *** ***

Liz sat quietly in the study carrel in the library, focusing not on the schoolwork in front of her but in the whispered conversation that was being carried on across from her.

“It’s weird,” the voice said. “I felt this connection with her. I could see into her soul, and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“What you did was stupid,” said another voice. “And it put us all in jeopardy. Why did you do it, anyhow?”

“You know why,” said the first voice. “I had to.”

“No you didn’t have to, and now you’ve brought all this attention down on us. We’re in danger. I say we leave now, before it’s too late.”

“We’re not going to leave,” the second voice said calmly, an oasis of calm in the stormy sea that surrounded him. “We’re just going to go on, living our lives the exact same way. Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed!”

“Guess who?” said a voice from behind her. A pair of hand covered her eyes, and Liz screamed softly.

“Kyle,” she cried. “Stop it.”

“I was worried about you, Liz,” Kyle said, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside her. “Dad told me what happened yesterday at the café.”

“Everything’s fine, Kyle. But I’m really trying to study,” she said over the scrambling sounds that came from the study carrel across from her.

She looked up to see Michael Guerin staring down at her, his eyes as hard as granite. Next to him stood Max Evans, his golden brown eyes watching her intently. She swallowed deeply, trying to tamp down the sudden feelings of fear and excitement that rose up inside of her. Liz broke the connection first, looking down at the papers on the table in front of her for a second. When she looked up again, Michael and Max were gone.

Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.


Winds of Change

Chapter Three – Remembering

The sounds of cutlery scraping against china rang in Liz Parker’s ears. She shook her head, trying to focus, when her best friend Maria stopped her.

“Max Evans is looking at you again,” Maria said.

“No way,” said Liz, turning away from the register to look over to the booth where Max Evans was sitting with his taciturn friend Michael Guerin.

“He is,” Maria insisted. “He is so hot for you.”

“Maria, you’re terrible,” said Liz. “Besides, I’m with Kyle, remember?”

“You don’t belong with him, Liz. You belong with Max,” Maria said, her voice sounding slow and distorted, like it was coming from far away.

“I’m with Kyle,” Liz insisted.

“Max, it’s Max,” said Maria.

Liz turned away, trying to ignore Maria and focus on the rush of customers that filled the CrashDown café. She made countless trips to the window, carrying plates of food back to the tables. With each trip, the plates grew heavier and heavier until she could hardly stand their weight on her arms.

Suddenly, time sped up, and Liz found herself standing in the middle of the CrashDown while people raced around her and talked so quickly she couldn’t comprehend the words. She felt a sharp jerk, and time resumed its normal pace. Befuddled by what was happening, Liz shook her head and continued across the café to the counter. A loud crash drew her attention, and she spun towards the noise. A cacophony of screams filled the air, followed by a sharp crack.

Liz felt something push against her midsection, and she fell backwards. It seemed an eternity before she struck the floor of the CrashDown. She laughed to herself, knowing that according to the laws of physics, the fall should have taken a matter of seconds.

“Liz!” she heard Maria scream. She sounded so far away. Liz struggled to sit up, but she couldn’t move. It was getting cold, so very cold. She’d have to remember to tell her father that the air conditioner was too high.

“Call an ambulance,” she heard a voice say from far away. She felt someone kneel down next to her, and rip her uniform opened. She tried to get them to stop. So cold, she was so cold.

“It’s going to be all right,” the voice said.

Liz smiled inside. The voice made her feel safe and warm, like nothing bad was ever going to happen to her.

“Liz. Liz! You have to look at me!” the voice called. “You have to look at me!”

Liz struggled to open her eyes, and found herself getting lost in the amber depths of Max Evans eyes. She felt Max put his hand on her stomach. A burst of heat filled her abdomen, warming her to the very depths of her soul. She stared into Max’s eyes, seeing images of him as a child. She felt what he felt; the feelings of fear and loss that followed him. She saw him staring, always staring at her and felt the attraction he felt for her, just as he felt the attraction she felt for him.

With a jerk, the connection was severed.

“You’re going to be okay,” Max said. He reached above her and grabbed something and smashed it on the edge of the counter, and she feels the cool heaviness of ketchup spill over her body, and uniform, mingling with the blood that already stained it.

“You broke the bottle when you fell, spilled ketchup on yourself. Don’t say anything, please?” Max whispered.

Before she could say anything, he was gone.

“Max! Max!” Liz yelled. “Max!”

Liz sat up with a jerk, her sheets tangles up around her body. Her breath came in gasps, and her face was covered in a film of sweat.

“Oh God,” she whispered to the dark bedroom. “What was that?”

“Liz, honey, are you all right?” her mother called softly through the bedroom door.

“Yeah, um, I’m fine, Mom, Liz said. “I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” her mother asked.

“No, I’m okay. I’m just going to go to back to sleep,” Liz said. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams, sweetie,” her mother said.

Liz waited until she heard her parent’s bedroom door close before she jumped out of bed. She ran across the room to the mirror, and pulled up her shirt and looked at the reflection of her abdomen.

“There should be something here,” she said to the empty room. “He healed me, there should be something here.”

Confused, she reached for her journal and climbed back into her bed to record her thoughts.

It’s September 24, and I just had the strangest dream.

It was me that Max Evans healed in the CrashDown, and it felt so real, so right, but I know that it isn’t true. I was there. I saw him save Maria. It was Maria, not me, and yet, when I woke up, I was so sure it was real. I was searching my body for something. What? An entry wound? I don’t have any answers. I don’t know how Max healed Maria. What he did was unnatural, but he saved my friend from dying. Maybe we should just accept it as a gift. But my dream, it was real, so very real. I felt the bullet hit me. I could feel the life draining away from me. I need to talk to Max about this. I know I should stay away, but I can’t. It’s Max.

Liz slipped the pen into the journal and closed it and placed it on her nightstand. She reached over and turned off the small lamp beside her bed. She rearranged her pillows and slid down under her covers.

“Max,” she whispered as sleep overtook her.

Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.


Winds of Change

Chapter Four – Logic vs. Intuition

Liz Parker sat in biology nervously drumming her pencil on the table while the teacher droned on about genetics and species. Usually, she was utterly focused during biology, but the past few days had been anything but typical.

The dream from the night before stayed with Liz like no other dream had before. She kept touching her stomach, expecting to find something, anything there, but there never was. She listened with half an ear while the teacher explained the instructions for the experiment. She doodled in her notebook while her mind went over the dream again, detail by detail.

it has to be a dream, she thought. So many things had a dreamlike quality. Liz flipped to a clean page in her notebook and began to list the items that made her positive that her dream was just a dream.

1. Voices sounding far away.
2. Time speeding up and slowing down.
3. Plates of food getting heavy.

When her list was completed, she methodically began to work on a list of things that made her question the dream.

1. Feeling the bullet slam into her.
2. The connection she felt when Max healed her.
3. The feeling that it was so real.

The bell rang, shaking Liz from her musings. She looked around with chagrin, realizing that she hadn’t accomplished a single step in the experiment during the entire class.

“Problems today, Miss Parker?” the teacher asked, standing beside her table.

Liz hastily tore the piece of paper out of her notebook and stuffed it into her book.

“Just tired, I guess,” said Liz. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Nightmares about what happened in the CrashDown?” the teacher asked, her voice sympathetic.

“Yeah, kind of,” said Liz. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really get anything done today.”

“That’s okay,” said the teacher, “You can make it up this afternoon, I have a couple of other students coming to do some make up work.”

“Thanks,” Liz said, ruefully. She’d never had to stay after school for anything.

She grabbed her books and exited the classroom, joining the students that streamed through the halls of West Roswell High. She made her way to her locker and stowed her biology book in side and grabbed her math books. She slammed the locker door shut and started down the hall. She paused by a trashcan and reached into her pocket and pulled out the list she had been working on. She gave it one last look and crumpled it up in a ball and tossed it toward the opening of the receptacle, not knowing or caring if it went in or not. She continued on her way to class, unaware of the person who scooped up the crumpled piece of paper from the floor.

** * ** * ** * ** *

Liz sat at her regular seat in the biology classroom and laid out all the necessary components for the experiment she had failed to complete earlier. Behind her the teacher reviewed the concepts of genus and phylum to a group of students. There was a break in the conversation behind her, and Liz turned to see Max Evans standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Mr. Evans, nice of you to join us,” said the teacher. “Why don’t you take a seat next to Miss Parker, and the two of you can get to work.”

Liz tried to control the emotions that welled up inside of her at the sight of Max Evans, but it was impossible. She found herself staring at him, drowning in his soulful brown eyes. Every nuance of her dream rushed through her mind, and again she could feel Max’s hand on her abdomen. She felt the energy course through her body healing her wound. She stared into his eyes and felt the connection strengthen between them.

“Liz, are you okay?” Max asked, putting his books on the table beside her. He stuck his pencil in his mouth and began to flip through his notebook to find a blank sheet.

Wha- oh, I’m fine,” she said, startled out of her reverie. She looked down at her notebook, trying to still the rush of color that flooded her cheeks.

“Should we get to work, then?” Max asked, placing the pencil on the table in front of him.

“Okay,” said Liz, pleased to have something other than Max’s eyes to focus on. She passed a swab and a toothpick to Max. “I need a sample of cells from the inside of your cheek so we can compare them to the vegetable cells Ms. Hardy gave us.”

Max’s face paled, and he cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Ms. Hardy,” he called, raising his hand. “I’m not feeling very well,” he said. “Would you mind if I made this lab up tomorrow?”

“You are high maintenance today, Mr. Evans, aren’t you?” said the teacher with a sigh. “Very well, you’re excused. Liz, just continue on by your self, please.”

Liz nodded, blinking back the tears that rushed to her eyes. Obviously, this, more than anything else proved that her dream was just that, a dream. Max Evans didn’t share a connection with her. He could barely stand to be in the same room as her. With a sigh, she picked up the toothpick and scraped some cells off of the inside of her cheek. She placed them on the slide in front of her and prepared to slip the slide under the microscope. She spied Max’s pencil on the table and an idea began to form in her mind.

Liz reached for the pencil, and used the cotton swab to obtain a sample of Max’s saliva. She was about to slip it under the microscope when she felt something collide with her arm.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” a voice said.

Liz looked up to see Max’s friend, Michael Guerin staring down at her.

“Yes Mr. Guerin, can I help you with something?” said Ms. Hardy. “Are you interested in actually participating for a change?”

“No, not really, I just needed to talk to Liz for a second,” said Michael, dismissing the teacher with a wave of his hand. “So, I was wondering, do you want to go to a movie or something?”

Maybe this will help clear things up a bit

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Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.


Winds of Change

Chapter Five – Discoveries

“You want to go to a movie with me?” Liz asked, incredulously. “Why?”

“Uh, cause I think you’re hot?” Michael said, his voice uncertain.

Liz looked at Michael and burst out laughing. “Could you at least try and sound like you mean it,” she said between chuckles. “Look, you don’t think I’m hot, in fact, you don’t even like me, so why don’t you just tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” said Michael. “Stay away from Max Evans. Got it?”

The mention of Max sent shivers running up and down Liz’s spine.

“I’m not near Max Evans,” said Liz. “In case you haven’t noticed Michael, he can’t even stand to be in the same classroom with me. I don’t think there’s much chance of us running away to get married.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said resting both hands on the table beside her. “Look, just stay away from him. Don’t talk to him, don’t look at him, and stop writing about him. The same goes for that crazy friend of yours too. What’s her name, Maria? Tell her to stay the hell away from him, and me too.”

Michael left the classroom as abruptly as he had entered, and Liz sat alone at the table fuming over his words. Where did he get off telling her what to do? Who did he think he was, Max’s protector or something? Liz thought to herself.

The word protector sent a shock wave reverberating through Liz. She didn’t know why, but there was something about Michael and that word that affected her. She turned to a fresh sheet of paper in her notebook and quickly jotted down a few observations about her conversation with Michael. She underlined his name several times and linked it with the word protector.

Liz sighed and turned the notebook back to her lab notes. She picked up the swab that had Max’s saliva sample on it and made a new slide. She slid it under the microscope and peered through the viewfinder. She looked, then looked again, but there wasn’t anything there. It was as if someone had wiped the slide clean.

She sighed and examined the slide she made with the sample from her own cheek. Liz meticulously noted down every detail of her sample versus the vegetable sample in the lab packet the teacher had provided. When she was done, she cleaned up her station and passed in her work.

Liz quickly exited the classroom and traversed the now empty halls of West Roswell High. She peered into the empty classrooms as she passed, looking for any sign of Max Evans. She finally conceded defeat and made her way to the student lounge to get a soda from the machine. She sat at an empty table while she drank it, ostensibly to study her science notes. She flipped open her notebook, thumbing through the pages to find her notes. Instead she found the notes she had scribbled after her confrontation with Michael Guerin.

“Hey Chica, where’ve you been?” Maria asked, plopping down on a chair next to her.

“I had to make up a lab,” said Liz, covering the notebook with her biology book.

“You had to make up a lab? A science lab?” asked Maria. “Has the world stopped spinning? Is the end near?”

“Shut up,” said Liz, laughing at her friend’s dramatics. “I just kind of zoned out during class today, so the teacher gave me a chance to make it up.”

“You’re worrying me here, girlfriend. Zoning through classes falls under my job description, not yours. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired,” said Liz. “I had a nightmare last night about what happened in the CrashDown.”

“You had a nightmare?” said Maria. “How do you think I feel. There’s Max Evans, telling me to look at him. I open my eyes and what do I see, that spiky haired, freaky friend of his, Michael Guerin. Now that’s a nightmare.”

“Oh my God, you’ll never believed who asked me out,” said Liz, turning to Maria. “None other than the spiky haired freak himself.”

“No way,” said Maria. “For real?”

“Yeah way, but not for real,” said Liz. “He was warning me away from Max Evans.”

“Why? Max is so hot for you. He used to be in the CrashDown all the time, staring at you. The thing I never got is why you don’t find him equally hot.”

“I keep telling you, I’m with Kyle,” said Liz, but her voice lacked conviction.

“Please, Chica, you belong with Kyle about as much as I belong with Max’s freakazoid friend,” Maria said. “What did he say, anyhow?”

“Nothing much, just told me to not talk to him, don’t think about him and don’t,” she paused for a moment, remembering Michael’s final admonition to not write about Max.

“Not to what, Liz?” asked Maria.

“Huh, oh, um, nothing, just more along that vein,” said Liz. “Oh, and he wants you to stay away from Max and him, too.”

“He what?” Maria roared, her voice echoing slightly in the deserted student lounge. “Where the heck does that bozo get off trying to dictate to me? After all, Max saved my,”

“Maria!” Liz shouted, her voice covering Maria’s, but barely. “We’re supposed to keep that quiet, remember?”

“I’m going to give that pin headed, Metallica freak a piece of my mind,” said Liz.

“Metallica?” said Liz. “Does Michael like Metallica?”

“Loves them,” said Maria, reaching into her pocket for the vial of cypress oil she kept in there to sooth her nerves.

“How’d you know that?” asked Liz.

“Know what?” asked Maria, breathing deeply, her eyes shut.

“I don’t know. He just looks like the kind of person who likes Metallica, that’s all.”

The two girls gathered up their belongings, and walked to the parking lot where Maria had left her mother’s red Volkswagen Jetta. While Maria drove, Liz closed her eyes and leaned back against the faded upholstery and allowed her mind to wander over the events of the day.



** * ** * **


“It was you,” Max said to Liz in the sunlit filled band room. “It was you.”

Liz started to say something but found that she was no longer in the band room, and instead was in the science lab, staring into a microscope. The sample under the viewer was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She looked up from the microscope and found she was in the band room again, only this time, Max was dressed like one of the guys from the Men in Black movies, and he was pointing up to the sky. Liz took a step closer to him and found herself in the CrashDown. There was a sharp crack, and she felt something collide with her body, and she went falling to the ground.

“Look at me. You have to look at me,” a voice called.

Liz’s eyes flew open to the passing scenery as Maria drove them to the CrashDown.

Interesting question as always, people are inited to my board to check out the fan fic spoiler and speculation thread to see if anybody else (or even myself)can shed some light on your questions and theories

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Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.


Winds of Change

Chapter Six – Connect the Dots

Liz went through the motions of serving the customers, and cleaning up after them, but her mind was everywhere but on her work. During the lull, she polished same spot on the counter over and over again as her mind worked feverishly trying to solve the riddles that filled her mind.

The tinkling of the bell over the door shook her out of her reverie, and she looked up to see Max Evans and Michael Guerin walk into the café. Michael glared at her, the antagonism, mixed with another emotion she couldn’t identify, visible in his eyes.

She schooled her features into an indifferent expression and approached their booth.

“Hi, can I take your order?” she asked.

“Hi Liz,” said Max. “I, uh, I wanted to apologize for bolting out of the lab this afternoon. I wasn’t feeling very well.”

“No problem,” said Liz, the hurt she felt reflected in her eyes. “I just did it myself. Now what can I get you?”

“We’ll have an order of Saturn Rings,” said Michael.

Liz made a quick notation on her pad and walked away before Max could say anything.


“I wanted a cherry coke,” Max complained to Michael.

“Yeah, whatever. Why are we here, Max? This is the last place we should be.”

“I thought we’d agreed that the best thing we could do was act like nothing had happened,” said Max.

“Wrong!” Michael hissed. “That’s what you agreed. I never agreed to anything.”

Liz placed their order and waited until it was filled watching them out of the corner of her eye as she filled sugar containers.

As soon as the rings were ready, Liz placed them on a tray to which she added two cherry cokes and a bottle of Tabasco sauce. Liz picked up the tray and carried over to the table and placed the rings and drinks in front of the boys, along with the unasked for bottle of Tabasco, and left without a word.

“Maybe she overheard me,” Max said, looking at the drink he had wanted but not asked for.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Michael said, doubtfully. “But how do you explain this?” He held up the bottle of Tabasco sauce like it was something disgusting he had found on the side of the road.

“Michael, we eat here all the time. Maybe she remembered that we always use it,” said Max, trying to sound reassuring.

“Sure,” said Michael, dumping Tabasco into his soda. “Whatever. Okay, look, you apologized, so can we leave now?”

“Fine, Michael, we’ll leave,” said Max. He slid out of the booth and slipped his arms into his jacket. “Oh, hey wait a second, Maria just came in. I should go see how she’s doing.”

“You should be leaving, Maxwell,” said Michael, propelling his friend towards the door. “I agreed to the hiding in plain sight thing, but there is no way in hell you need to start hanging around with those two.”

Max gave one last long, lingering look at the two girls behind the counter before he allowed Michael to push him out the door into the warm New Mexico evening. Max climbed behind the wheel of the battered Jeep he drove and started the engine.

“You coming?” he asked Michael.

“Uh, actually, I have a couple of things I have to pick up for Hank,” Michael said, referring to his foster father.

“Well, I’ll wait and drive you home,” Max offered. He knew Michael’s foster father liked to give Michael a hard time, and he worried about his friend.

“No, it’s good,” said Michael, looking at the ground. “It’d probably be better if you didn’t come around.” Hank had been gone for the past couple of days, but Michael wasn’t above using him, and his rotten home life as an excuse to get rid of Max for a while. “I’ll see you later.”

Max nodded and let out the emergency brake. Michael banged on the hood of the Jeep as Max pulled away from the curb. He waited until Max was out of site before he started walking down the side street that would take him to the back of the CrashDown Café.

** * ** * ** * **

Nicholas smiled an evil smile as he watched Max leave the seedy little burger joint owned by Liz’s parents. He knew that if he could just keep Max and Liz apart, then this time frame would remain a reality. All he had to do was eliminate Liz Parker, and then all his problems would be solved. Or rather, Kivar’s problems would be solved. The only way his problems would be solved would be to get him off this God forsaken planet and back to Antar.

Nicholas looked around before he slipped around to the back of the restaurant. He secluded himself in the doorway of an adjacent building and settled back to wait for Liz Parker.

** * ** * ** *

Liz sighed as she carried the last bag of trash out to the dumpster behind the café. She usually hated closing the CrashDown by herself, but tonight she relished the opportunity to go over the events of the past few days in her mind.

She hefted the heavy bag into the dumpster and turned to walk back into the restaurant when she got the eerie feeling that somebody was watching her.

“W-ho’s there?” she called softly. “Kyle, is that you?” Liz foolishly stepped away from the safety of he doorway into the middle of the alley. “Hello?” She spun around slowly, but was unable to see anybody in he dark shadows of the night.

The sound of pounding footsteps captured her attention, and she turned in their direction only to be knocked to the ground.

“Liz, get down!” she heard a voice call out to her, followed by an incredibly loud crash and a flash of green light.

“Damn, he got away,” the voice said. “Are you okay?”

Liz groaned and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and turned her head to see who was speaking to her.

“Michael?”

“Yeah,” Michael Guerin said brusquely, holding a hand down towards Liz to help her up.

“You shoved me on the ground,” said Liz. “Why?” She sounded so confused when she asked why, that Michael was afraid she had a concussion or something. He looked closer at her in the dim light and realized that her confusion was actually fear.

“I was walking down the street, and I saw some guy duck down here,” Michael improvised. He looked suspicious, so I followed him.”

“You followed him,” Liz repeated, dully.

“Look, maybe we should get you inside,” Michael said, nudging her towards the still opened door of the café.

They walked through the deserted kitchen and out to the main eating area of the restaurant. Liz sat at the counter and Michael sat in one of the booths and looked at Liz for several minutes. He could see her relaxing bit by bit in the familiar surroundings.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Michael asked, finally. “I’m sorry if I scared you, I never meant for things to get out of control.”

“What did you say?” Liz asked. She heard a roaring in her ears and the room seemed to shift a little bit.

“I said I’m sorry that I scared you,” Michael repeated. “Look, are you okay? Should I call somebody or something?”

“No, I just got this déjà vu feeling for a second, that’s all. It was kind of weird.”

“There’s a lot of weird things going on here,” said Michael, eyeing her speculatively.

“Yeah, there have, starting with Max’s miraculous healing of Maria the other day,” Liz said, aggressively. “But you know what, I could almost accept that, but there are just too many other weird things happening.”

“Like you’re knowing Max wanted a cherry coke tonight, you mean?” Michael countered.

“Do you like Metallica?” Liz asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“Yeah, I love them,” said Michael, confused by the sudden change in subject.

“Maria was right,” Liz said, softly. “Something weird is going on here, and I’m going to figure it out!”

Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.

Author’s Note: This chapter title gets its name from the wonderful fic by Mt. Gazer.

Winds of Change

Chapter Seven – Shifting Realities

A soft tapping at her window woke Liz from her restless sleep. She looked around the room, but her sleep-fogged brain was unable to locate the source of the noise. She climbed out of her bed and tugged the faded tank that she slept in down to the top of her bikini panties. Yawning, she crossed the room and looked out the window. The cool night air seemed to beckon her, like the siren’s song beckoned sailors so long ago.

She raised the window and flung her leg out over the sill and climbed out onto her patio. Goose bumps dotted her flesh from the cool breeze that blew, and she shivered just a bit as she absentmindedly hugged herself. She drifted, without conscious thought over to the telescope that demanded so much of her attention of late. She’d always been interested in the stars, but lately, it seemed she’d had this burning desire to study the night skies, almost as if she were looking for something in particular.

Liz looked through the eyepiece of the telescope, unable to erase the feeling that she somehow knew what she was looking for. Abandoning the telescope after several futile minutes of scanning the night sky, she leaned over the edge of the building, her attention drawn by a scraping sound in the alley.

“Liz!” a voice called softly from the alley.

Liz leaned out over the shallow brick wall and looked down into the alley.

“Who’s there?” she whispered.

“It’s me, Max. Can I come up?”

Liz looked around, afraid that her parents would appear out of nowhere.

“Sure, come on up,” she said, trembling again, only this time it was from excitement, and not from the coolness of the air. She waited for several seconds and heard the scraping sounds of Max ascending the fire escape. His dark head appeared of the edge of the wall, smiling self-consciously.

“Hi,” he said, sheepishly.

“Hi, Max,” Liz replied. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know,” Max admitted. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go for a walk, and I just ended up here.”

“Here, at the CrashDown?” Liz asked, doubtfully.

“No, here, in this alley, staring up at your window. It’s weird, but it feels like I’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around,” Liz said, softly, shivering slightly.

You’re cold,” said Max, unnecessarily. He slipped out of the denim work shirt he was wearing and draped it carefully over Liz’s shoulders. His hands lingered on the lapels of the shirt, and he leaned in closer to Liz, preparing to kiss her.

“Liz, sweetie, are you all right?” a voice called from inside the apartment.

Max jerked his head back and looked regretfully at Liz before he climbed back down the fire escape.

“I’m fine, Mom,” she called, softly. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came outside to look at the stars.”

“It’s late, sweetie, come on inside now,” Nancy Parker said, leaning out of the window.

Liz gave one last look down at the now empty alley before she turned to face her mother.

“I’m coming, Mom,” she said, slipping her arms into the sleeves of the shirt. She could feel the warmth of Max Evans’ body caught within the material of the shirt. She paused to chat briefly with her mother before climbing into bed. She slid out of the shirt, and gathered the fabric in her hands. She brought it up to her face and rubbed it against her cheek. She breathed deeply, inhaling the musky sent of Max that clung to the shirt. She laid down, her head pillowed on Max’s shirt, and drifted off to sleep.

** * ** * ** *

Nicholas growled angrily as he watched Max Evans run down the alley. He had planned to use his powers to break away at the ledge the Liz had leaned against, but Max’s arrival had put an end to that plan. It had to look like an accident, but every time he tried, something happened to foul it up. She had to die; there was no way around it. In order to make this reality permanent, he had to get rid of Liz Parker, and it had to be soon. He could feel his grip on the time distortion slipping. He wasn’t sure if he had enough power maintain this reality much longer.

** * ** * ** *

Michael Guerin rummaged through one of the many junk drawers in his foster father’s trailer, until he found a pencil. He pushed the screen door open and climbed down the rickety stairs and went to go sit at the decrepit picnic table where he took most of his meals. He flipped open his unused Spanish notebook and stared at the blank page, struggling to see in the dim light from a street lamp.

He could, he knew, go back inside, Hank wouldn’t be back from his drinking binge for hours, but he preferred being anywhere to being in the musty trailer he called home.

Almost without conscious thought, he put his pencil to the paper and began to sketch as his mind raced over the events at the CrashDown earlier. He knew there was no way Liz had overheard Max’s desire for a cherry cola, and yet she brought it. She also brought the bottle of Tabasco sauce that neither of them had asked for. They had taken to carrying their own bottles of the condiment, rather than drawing attention to themselves by always asking for it.

What happened later troubled him even more. He had been feeling like a stalker, waiting in the deserted alley to talk to Liz. He had waited for what seemed like hours and was preparing to leave when Liz finally appeared, lugging a bag of garbage behind her.

Michael prepared to move toward the door, to confront Liz and find out what she knew when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He saw a boy step out of the shadows and raise his hand and point it at Liz. He’d never seen the boy before yet he knew with every fiber of being that he was a danger. He reacted without thinking and lunged at Liz, knocking her to the ground, shielding her with his body as a bolt of energy passed harmlessly over their heads.

He made a lame excuse to Liz and prepared to leave when she asked him if he liked Metallica. The strange comment gave him pause, and he answered her. While he was still trying to puzzle out what Metallica had to do with anything, she stunned him further by telling him that Maria was right.

Maria DeLuca, Liz’s friend was a train wreck looking for a place to happen in Michael Guerin’s opinion. A completely and totally hot train wreck, but a train wreck nevertheless. A word from her could land them all in some lab acting like trained rats, or worse, starring in the next alien autopsy movie. This was all Max’s fault. If he hadn’t felt the need to act like such a damn boy scout, their secret would still be safe. But no, Max had to play the hero and put them all in danger.

“Hey, Mickey, what the hell you doin out there?” Hank Whitmore yelled, as he staggered out of his decrepit station wagon.

“Nothing,” Michael replied, his voice taking on the sullen tone it always did when he was forced to converse with his foster father.

“Yeah, well, get your ass inside and get me a beer,” slurred Hank.

“Get it yourself, I’m busy,” said Michael.

“You worthless whelp!” shouted Hank, lunging towards Michael. He swung a fist in Michael’s direction, but missed in his inebriated state.

Michael jumped up from the picnic table, clutching the notebook in his hand.

“I said, get your ass inside and get me a beer!” shouted Hank.

“Shut up out there,” came a shout from another trailer.

Hank turned, momentarily distracted by the shout, and Michael took the opportunity to dodge the older man and take off running down the road. He slowed to a jog when he was certain that Hank wasn’t following him. He stopped and considered the options available to him for the night. He weighed the possibilities of returning home or sleeping on Max’s bedroom floor again. He quickly disregarded the first possibility and made his way to the Evans household.

Michael rapped softly on Max’s window and waited while Max undid the latch and opened the window to admit him. True he could have opened the window on his own, but he liked to think he did have some manners and common sense. He passed the notebook to Max and climbed in.

Max tossed the notebook onto his bed and began to unroll the sleeping bag that Michael used whenever he spent the night. Michael reached into the closet and grabbed the extra pillow Max kept there and turned around to find Max sitting on the bed, leafing casually through his notebook.

Wordlessly, Max held up the notebook and showed Michael the picture he had been looking at. A picture Michael didn’t remember drawing. The sketch showed Max, kneeling down on the floor, in a pool of blood, with his hand pressing down on a woman’s abdomen. Michael stared in both horror and fascination when he realized that the picture did not depict Max healing Maria, instead, he was healing Liz Parker.

Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.


Winds of Change

Chapter Eight – Dreams and Visions

“Did you draw this, Michael?” Max asked.

“I think that answer’s pretty obvious, don’t you, since it was in the notebook I was carrying when I got here,” said Michael.

“Maybe the question should be why did you draw this?” Max asked, holding up the notebook.

“Give me that,” said Michael, pulling the notebook out of Max’s hand and closing it. “It’s not important.”

“I think it is,” said Max, grabbing the notebook back. He flipped through the pages trying to locate the sketch when he found something else that caught his attention.

“Michael, what’s this?” he asked, passing the book back to Michael.

Michael took the notebook and examined the drawing. It showed the back of a man, standing in the rain looking at a house. From the house, a woman peered out at the man from behind a window. The woman was Maria DeLuca.

Michael stared, entranced by the poignancy in the woman’s face. He reached out with one finger and touched the face of the woman gently, his expression betraying a fierce longing.

“Michael?”

“It-it’s nothing,” said Michael.

“No, it’s something,” said Max. “Did this happen? It must have for you to be able to put so much emotion into it.”

“Of course it didn’t. I keep telling you, that DeLuca chic is a train wreck looking for a place to happen,” Michael insisted, only this time, his voice lacked conviction.

“I saw Liz Parker tonight,” Max told Michael.

“What? I thought you were going to stay away from her!” Michael yelled.

“I can’t,” admitted Max. “I’m, well, I feel like I’m drawn to her,” said Max. “I just can’t seem to keep away.”

“This is not good, Maxwell, not good at all,” said Michael. “And I don’t mean that in a we need to keep to ourselves way. Something is totally whacked.”

“What do you mean?” asked Max.

Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and handed it to Max.

“Do I want to read your love notes,” joked Max.

“Read it, will ya,” said Michael.

Max skimmed the piece of paper that had to headings with lists underneath them.

Reasons it was just a dream:

1. Voices sounding far away.
2. Time speeding up and slowing down.
3. Plates of food getting heavy.

Reasons it really happened.

1. Feeling the bullet slam into her.
2. The connection I felt when Max healed me.
3. The feeling that it was so real.

“Did Maria write this?” asked Max, his voice laced with concern. Something about the handwriting was bothering him. He knew he’d seen it before.

“No, it wasn’t Maria, it was Liz,” said Michael.

“Liz?” said Max, trying to catch his breath. He felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. “It was you,” he added almost to himself.

“What? Max, what did you say?” asked Michael.

“It was you,” said Max, to himself. “It was you.”

** * ** * **

Nicholas roamed the deserted streets of Roswell, struggling to maintain his hold on this reality. He could feel his power slipping away, and his grasp on the time shift was tenuous. He needed to kill Liz; that would seal their fate, and lock this timeline into place. A low rumble filled the air. Nicholas looked up into the night sky to see that a low bank of clouds had obliterated the stars, and lightning flashed from the sky.

“I hate this stupid little town,” he growled in his man-boy voice. He broke into a jog as the rain started to fall from the sky, seeking shelter from the storm.

** * ** * ** *

Maria DeLuca tossed and turned fitfully in her bed. The rumblings of thunder punctured her dreams, causing her to moan slightly. A loud bang shook the house, and she sat up in her bed.

“What was that?” she asked the empty room. Another rumble of thunder filled the room, answering her question for her. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake the dreams of a stranger that plagued her sleep.

She slid her legs over the side of the bed and walked softly to the window. Feeling foolish, she pushed the curtains aside, fully expecting to see someone standing on the sidewalk, but there was nobody there. She stared out into the darkness for several long minutes waiting, but the phantom figure in her dreams never materialized.

Maria sighed, and turned away from the window and climbed back into her bed, but she didn’t sleep, not for a long time.

** * ** * ** *

The sun rose on a new morning, scrubbed crisp and clean from the rainfall of the night before. Liz smiled to herself as she walked down the empty sidewalks of Roswell. She was determined to put the foolish dreams of the past few nights behind her. Today was a new day. She wasn’t going to let her imagination distract her any longer, and keep her from her dream of becoming a molecular biologist.

Liz paused at the corner as she waited for the light to change, signaling her opportunity to cross. When the light was green, she stepped out into the crosswalk and began to cross the street. The sound of squealing tires caught her attention, and she stopped, foolishly trying to locate the sound.

“Liz, look out!” Maria screamed from the other side of the street. Liz looked up to see a black pick up truck bearing down on her. She remained rooted in place, frozen by fear. In that split second, she stared into the windshield of the truck, looking at the driver. She knew him. She’d seen him before, she was certain.

A jolt brought her back to the present, and Liz found herself rolling on the ground, her face scraping against the pavement. She lifted her head in time to see the truck turn the corner and speed off out of sight.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, thanks to,” she stopped when she turned to look into the amber eyes of her rescuer. “Max,” she said softly.

“You’re hurt,” Max said, his voice filled with concern.

He put his hand on her stinging cheek, and Liz felt a warm glow on her face. When he removed his hand, the pain was gone.

“Here comes Maria,” he said, softly. “You’ll be okay, now.”

Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.

Chapter Nine – Confrontations

Author's Note Thanks to Con Angel for the Alex suggestion


“Hey, hey you, Max Evans!” Maria shouted over the voices in the hallway of West Roswell High. “Wait up. I want to talk to you.”

Max looked over his shoulder, a feeling of dread welling up inside of him. This was one confrontation he didn’t want to have and had gone out of his way to avoid. He stopped, knowing he had no other alternative, and waited for Maria to catch up to him.

“Hi, Maria, what’s up?” Max said, trying to force himself to act casual.

“Don’t you give me that what’s up crap,” said Maria. She reached out and grabbed Max’s arm and dragged him into an empty classroom. “We’re going to talk, and we’re going to do it now.”

“Okay,” said Max, trying to humor the petite blond spitfire. “Talk. I’m listening.”

“Nice try, girlfriend,” said Maria, poking him in the chest. “But you’re the one doing the talking, I’m the one listening.”

“What did you just call me?” asked Max.

“Don’t you dare try and change the subject, Max. You have some serious explaining to do,” ranted Maria.

“Look, can you just sniff some cedar oil or something and calm down,” suggested Max.”

“In the first place, lavender is for relaxing, and in the second place, how do you even know I’m into aromatherapy?” asked Maria. “I suppose that freak friend of yours told you or something.”

“I don’t know how I knew,” admitted Max. “Why did you call me girlfriend? Last time I checked, the anatomy wasn’t quite right for that particular job description.”

“I-I don’t know,” said Maria. “It just seemed right,” she looked at Max, her confusion evident in her eyes.

“This isn’t just some ploy to distract me, is it?” she asked.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” said Max, grabbing her arm.

“Watch it!” snapped Maria. “I’m delicate, I bruise easily.”

“Right,” laughed Max. “Not to be insulting, Maria, but you’re about as delicate as a pit bull. Now come on.” He tugged gently on her arm and pulled her out into the hallway.

“Hey Maria, what’s up?” a voice called from the hallway.

“Alex,” Maria. “Uh, hi, how’s it going?”

“I think the question is, where are you going?” asked Alex.

“We have an errand to run,” said Max, brusquely.

“Max, wait,” Maria said. She jerked her arm free of Max’s grip and rushed back to Alex and hugged him tightly. “I love you,” she said.

“Thanks,” said a clearly puzzled Alex. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” said Max. “She’ll see you later.” He propelled Maria ahead of him and out the school doors into the warm New Mexico sunlight.

“Where are we going?” Maria demanded as Max led her to his jeep.

“Some place where we can talk without being overheard,” said Max. “Get in the car please, Maria.”

“You know, there are some who would say that what your doing is kidnapping, no abducting me, but that seems more like your spiky haired friend’s style.”

“I’m not abducting you, Maria, relax,” said Max. “It’s just that there are some really weird things going on, and we need to talk about them. I guess I was kind of acting like Michael, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, please, curb your inner cave man tendencies when you’re with me,” said Maria. “You’re the romantic one, remember? Why did I just say that?”

“I don’t know, why did you just say that?” asked Max, his had paused over the ignition. “Do I strike you as the romantic type?”

“Well, let’s just put it this way,” said Maria. “Wait, never mind. Why am I having this conversation with you? I’m getting out of here.”

She turned to open the car door to find Michael Guerin standing on the other side of it.

“Great, my day is now complete,” said Maria with a moan. She turned to Max. “Why is the poster child for emotional constipation standing outside the door?” She looked to one side of Michael and saw Liz standing next to Michael. “With my best friend?” she added.

Max swiveled in his seat and peered past Maria to look out the canvas and plastic door of the Jeep. He opened the door and climbed out and stared at Michael over the top of the jeep.

“What are you doing here, Michael?” he asked.

“Following you, what does it look like, Maxwell?” Michael responded.

“Max,” Liz said in her soft voice. “Alex told me he saw you and Maria leave school. I got worried, so I came after her, Michael came with me.”

“You were with Liz?” Max asked, his voice tinged with jealousy.

“Jesus, chill, will you, Max,” said Maria, who had, by now, climbed out of the jeep. “If Liz wants to talk to your stone faced friend, though I for the life of me couldn’t see why, what’s the big deal?”

“You’re right,” said Max, giving himself a mental shake. “Look, we all obviously need to talk, let’s get out of here.”

“Wait, my car,” Maria said. “I can’t leave it here.”

“You have a car?” asked Michael in disbelief. “What is it, Mommy’s Ford Escort?”

“It’s a Jetta, actually,” said Maria, trying to sound dignified. She pushed the door open, hitting Michael with a bit more force than necessary, enjoying the feeling of the door coming in contact with his shin.

“Get out of my way, stone face,” she said.

“What is your problem?” Michael shouted. “Where do you get off telling me what to do?”

“Well, obviously, someone needs to, but cause you can’t even dress yourself. Look at that shirt. I wouldn’t wax my car with that shirt,” Maria shot back.

“If that red piece of garbage over there is you’re car, then I’d say you’re right,” said Michael. “If you tried waxing it, the pressure of the rubbing would probably make it fall into a million pieces.”

“You know, that’s just like you,” said Maria walking off towards her Jetta. “You just have to belittle everything.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Michael, following her through the parking lot.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Michael Guerin,” said Maria, her voice growing softer as she moved across the parking lot.

Max turned to Liz, his expression hopeful, but guarded.

“So, you want to ride with me?” he asked.

“Um,” said Liz, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “Sure, I guess. Where are we going, anyhow?”

“I thought we should go someplace private,” said Max.

Images began to fill Liz’s head as Max spoke. She saw herself in the eraser room with Max, sitting in Max’s jeep in a run down trailer park, her and Max jumping of a bridge in the dark of night into a swirling river.

“Liz, Liz, are you all right?” Max shouted.

“What?” asked Liz, dazed by the images that filled her mind.

“I was talking and talking, but it’s like you weren’t even here,” said Max.

“I don’t think I was,” said Liz.

Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: TEEN to MATURE for inappropriate language and some violence.

Chapter 10 – Summit Meeting

“Where are we, anyhow?” Liz asked, after Max parked the jeep.

“An old abandon quarry,” said Max. “Haven’t you ever come out here swimming?” He climbed out of the jeep and came around to the passenger side and opened the canvas door for Liz.

As the walked over to where Michael and Maria waited, Liz laughed, and the delicate sound tickled something in Max’s mind. The fragments of a memory teased at the edges of his mind. He struggled to grasp it, but it flitted out of reach.

“Max, swimming here is against the law. I couldn’t do that. My parents would kill me if I ever found out.”

“That’s right, we couldn’t have little Miss Perfect doing anything illegal,” said Michael joining the conversation.

His words triggered a reaction in Liz, and she saw herself standing with Max beside a car, holding a gun. The images in her mind shifted, and she saw herself in a store, pointing the gun at a cashier.

“Liz. Liz! Are you okay?” Maria yelled. She reached out and grabbed Liz by the shoulder and shook her hard. “What did you do to her?” she demanded, staring at Michael.

“I didn’t do anything,” said Michael. “I didn’t touch her. Hey, come on, snap out of it,” he said to Liz.

“I’m- I’m okay,” Liz said, shaking her head a little to clear the images from her mind. “Maria, I’m okay,” she said again, this time looking at Maria’s hand, still on her arm.

“What happened to you?” demanded Maria, fumbling for a vial of lavender oil to sooth her nerves.

“Never mind, let’s just forget it,” said Liz.

“We can’t just forget it, Liz. It could be something important,” said Max. “Please tell us what happened.

“It was something Michael said,” began Liz.

“See, I told you it was you’re fault,” said Maria, striking Michael gently in the midsection.

“Me, I didn’t do anything,” he said, vehemently.

“He didn’t do anything, Maria,” Liz said. “It was something he said. I had this incredible feeling of well, not déjà vu, but something similar to it.”

“Well that really cleared it up,” Michael said in his typical snarl. “Come on Maxwell, let’s get this summit on the road. I’ve got things to do tonight.”

“What did you just say?” asked Max, his face as white as Liz’s had been a few minutes earlier.

“I said let’s get this summit on the road,” said Michael.

“I’ve been to a summit,” said Max, quietly. “In New York.”

“Max, what are you talking about?” demanded Michael. “You’ve never been to New York in your life.”

“I know,” said Max. “But I was there. I was. And so was Brody.”

“Who the hell is Brody?” Michael shouted.

“I don’t know,” Max admitted.

“You’ve never been to New York, but you’ve been there, and you’ve been there with Brody, but you don’t know who he is. Maxwell, something is whacked here, and I’m beginning to think it’s you,” said Michael.

“No, the same thing happened to me the other night,” said Maria. “It was raining out, and I went to my window, and looked out. I was certain somebody would be outside.”

“Outside, in the rain,” said Michael, trying to sound gruff, but failing.

“Yeah, it was like I was expecting someone to be standing on the street, looking at my window. Not in a stalker sort of way,” she was quick to add. “But like he needed my help or something, but was afraid to ask.”

“Michael, you have to show her,” said Max.

“Bullshit,” said Michael. “I don’t have to show her anything, and I’m not.”

“Yeah you do,” said Max. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“Wait, you know something,” said Liz. “I have some questions I want answered before you show us anything.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper, opened it and glanced down at it. “How were you able to do what you did to Maria?” she asked.

Max and Michael looked at each other, but didn’t respond.

“Max, look, that bullet hit Maria. I did some research, and Max, I’m sorry, it had to do some serious damage to her.”

“Liz, I,” Max began.

“I want some answers Max, and if I don’t get them, I’m going to go to Sheriff Valenti and tell him everything.”

“Tell him what?” asked Michael. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know Maria got shot, and by all intents and purposes, she should have died. Are you trying to tell me you just miraculously healed her?”

“Would you accept that as an answer?” Max asked, his voice hopeful.

“Not even close,” said Maria.

“You have to promise me you won’t ever tell anybody,” said Max.

“Maxwell, don’t!” said Michael, his voice angry. “We don’t tell anyone. Ever!”

“They have a right to know,” said Max. “They’re a part of this now. Look,” he said, turning to the two girls who waited expectantly. “Michael, Isabel and me, we’re not from around here.”

“Right, so you’re from out of town, so what?” asked Maria. “Not everybody who lives here is born here. So where are you from?”

Max didn’t answer, he only raised one hand and pointed a finger upward.

“North, you’re from up north,” said Liz.

Again, Max said nothing, he simply raised his hand higher.

“You’re not like an alien, are you?” Liz asked, her voice rising a bit in disbelief.

“Well, I prefer the term not of this Earth,” said Max with a sheepish smile.

“Max, you idiot!” said Michael. “You’ve ruined everything.”

“What, like you’re going to perform alien experiments on us now?” asked Maria. “I’m so afraid. Wait, what am I saying, I am afraid. Liz, these guys are freaks. I’m getting out of here, now.”

“You don’t even have one freaking clue in that tiny little brain of yours, do you?” asked Michael. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two pieces of paper. He unfolded them and handed one to Maria, and one to Liz.”

“Nice,” said Maria, barely giving the picture a glance. “I’m glad to see you stayed in the lines. Maybe next week you can move up to finger paints.”

“Maria, I think you’d better look at these,” said Liz, shoving the picture Michael had given her into Maria’s hands.

“Oh my God,” she said slowly, pausing between each word. “That’s it, that’s my dream, well, not a dream,” she amended. “But it’s what I thought I should see the other night. How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Michael admitted with atypical candor. “I just drew it, the same with that one.”

Maria looked down at the other picture, the one that depicted Max, saving Liz, and not her, and alarm bells began to ring in her head.

“What the hell is going on here?” she said.