AUTHOR'S NOTE – This story, though written well back on the old PA board, has been revised. I'm usually not good on updating, which is why I was so determined to finish the full bulk of this story before posting any of it to make sure it got completed. I changed mistakes I'd made before, and also added quite a few scenes. I've changed plots in the story, twitched them a bit, and added more to scenes I'd already created.

If you remember the basis of the story, it's exactly the same. I've made it more in tune with Liz and Michael though, so this story better suits their characters. I've currently got up to 15 chapters, and I hope to wrap up the story just around 20. I'll add a chapter every week, and hopefully I'll have the story completed before I even finish posting the parts I've already written.

I hope all old and new that read this story enjoy it, because it certainly was one of the better of my stories. And now, Remember to Breathe...

Remember to Breathe

Author – Rae (iknowthewabbit@yahoo.com) Disclaimer - As per usual I must state I own nothing of the plots of Roswell; I am merely revising them to something better. Shucks! Rating – PG-13. Oops. Summary – An unlikely force turns two people to each other.

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Prologue

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Sometimes I have to remember to breathe.

It's a very stupefying process. First you take that deep breath, letting the oxygen filter into your body to rise and course through your lungs. You open your mouth and let out that settling breath.

Never have I had such trouble remembering to breathe. It's as if all of my senses and thoughts are thrown out the window indefinitely, right along with that one thing that keeps me breathing—sanity. I lost all traces of my sanity when I fell in love, which coincidentally is when I stopped remembering how to breathe.

Breathing is like first nature; something you never forget how to perform. It's common sense to breathe, but all semblances of those both have left my mind like a memory I can't recall. A dream lost once woken. A necessity forgotten when you've become insane.

I've always been cautious, and thought things out. I've been responsible, hardworking, and trying my best to appear strong. Yet it seems that all I have to do is see a glimpse of his face, or his rumpled dark blonde hair, or that twinkle in his eye that seems to spark upon my gaze—all this intensity leaves me weak. Weak, because his amber eyes burn something in me and I feel lost in every sense that has become 'him.' He has become my first nature, and my breath will finally give in and falter.

It tapers off slowly, like a ghost in mourning, until eventually I no longer let out any resemblance of a breath—yet my mind is racing with an unknown urgency to do something that I've suddenly forgotten as necessary. His lips mingling with mine; that is necessary. His strong arms, around me, that's necessary. His eyes, looking at me with a fierceness I've never felt before; that's necessary.

But that one seemingly meaningless moment, as if prolonged with no reference of time, is brought back full force in a matter of seconds—his eyes leaving the afterlife of mine. Somehow, dazed, I'll have to remember to take that deep breath, letting it course through my body, and then let it leave my mouth with a passion never tapped.

I'm Liz Parker, and sometimes I have to remember to breathe. Is this scientifically relevant? I have to wonder if the chemicals residing in my body—somehow changed from a day one year ago—is fighting the attraction to an unlikely person—it's denial so fierce my brain forgets to push me to breathe.

I've always figured out the answer to a problem. State the problem. Gather information. Hypothesize. Experiment, until you've found a supposed solution. Record and analyze your data. Form the conclusion.

The scientific method, one I use often. Everyday decisions, important labs, jumbled thoughts...the only solution I can find is to keep away from those eyes, because if one day they happen to fall on me and stay all sanity I call home will forget to remind me of the one thing I've begun to lose functioning of.

Breathing.