4

You tried to sweet talk 'em
They didn't fall for it
But I did
You were on the left
I was on the right

The two officers got into the car, Deputy Sheriff Anderson sitting in the front passenger's seat with the door open wide.

Liz leaned forward in her seat…well, as best as she could with her wrists cuffed behind her back, and Michael watched in shock as she said, "Maybe you don't have to take us in…maybe…we could make an arrangement…"

From the suggestion in her tone, Michael and the cops knew immediately what she was insinuating, and he felt a part of himself take interest at her offer, even though it hadn't been directed towards him, at the same time wanting to laugh out loud at the fact that Liz Parker was trying to sweet talk the Deputy Sheriff himself!

The Deputy turned his head, saw her look, and rolled his eyes.

"Not gonna work, sweetheart."

In a huff, she threw herself back against the seat, wincing slightly when the cuffs dug into her wrists at the impact.

I knew you didn't smoke
When you asked him for a light
And I laughed
He got mad and slammed the door

Michael wondered why they hadn't left yet, and then saw the Deputy lighting up a cigarette and realized that that was the reason why. Smoking wasn't allowed at the precinct; he had been there often enough times that he had the list of rules that hung on the far wall memorized.

Liz suddenly shocked him again as she said, "Hey, Deputy Anderson…can I have a smoke?"

He glared back at her, and barked out, "Landon! Get your ass over here! You're taking them in. I'll ride with Cooper!" and then got out of the car and slammed the door behind him hard enough to make the car shake slightly on its base.

Unable to hold it in any longer, Michael laughed and Liz shot him a grin as he did.

"You're crazy, Parker, you know that?"

She nodded.

"Yes, I am dimly aware of that fact. I'm pretty sure that I get it from my dad's side of the family," she said as the car started. "We've got this whole line of intellectuals who all have expunged criminal records."

He looked at her, certain that she was joking, but then saw the serious look on her face and said, "You're not kidding, are you?"

She shook her head.

"Nope. Not one bit. My dad was arrested three different times in high school for breaking into the university library in the middle of the night on holiday weekends to read books from the Rare Collections section," she said, giving him a wide grin and he shook his head in response.

Figures. A family full of egg heads would have arrest records for something like that.

All too soon, they were at the precinct, and Officer Landon escorted them over to a pair of chairs on the wall and sat both of them down, undoing one cuff so he could attach it to the arm of the chair.

Side by side
And locked in tight
They were taking their time
But we didn't mind

He then said, "I'll be right back," and disappeared around the corner to file their arresting reports.

As soon the officer was gone, Michael turned to Liz and said, "Yeah, right. Last time I was here, it took them four hours to get all of the paperwork in order. Now that you're here, it'll probably take them twice as long."

She just let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair, lifting her free left hand and putting it over his cuffed right hand.

"So…we're stuck here, then?" He nodded. "Great," she huffed out, blowing a strand of hair from her face in the process. "I wonder how long it's gonna be before my dad finds out that his 'good little girl' is stuck in the slammer."

Michael snorted and rolled his eyes.

"In the slammer? Really, Parker, you're just handcuffed to a chair. That's not exactly the same as prison."

She rolled her eyes, but gave him an affectionate look as she said, "Well, for you maybe, but for me it's more than I ever expected to happen. Just…let me be a little dramatic, alright? For you this might be just another weekend night, but for me this is a whole new world."

He smiled.

"Fair enough, Parker. Fair enough."

They were silent for a few minutes, neither of them doing anything, saying anything, or even looking at each other, but then Liz moved her left hand back to her own chair, away from where it had been comfortably resting on his wrist, and said, "Let's thumb wrestle."

He raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and repeated, "Let's thumb wrestle! We're gonna be a while, so we might as well do something to fill the time," she added, her left hand poised on her armrest, fist clenched, thumb all ready to go.

He simply nodded.

"Fine. Thumb wrestling, it is."

Ten rounds later, she emerged the victor, winning six out of the ten rounds, and he moved his hand with his now slightly aching thumb back over to his side.

We talked
And we laughed
We sat real close

"Okay, it's my turn for a game," Michael said, seeing that glint in her eye that was telling him that she was about to ask him to do it a second time. She rolled her eyes and then nodded, smiling to let him know that it was okay with her.

He thought for a minute…and then smiled.

"Twenty questions."

She frowned.

"Really?"

Quickly, he explained to her how his game was different from the original.

"Look, it's not just a regular twenty questions. In the way that we're going to play it, whenever you ask a question, both of you have to answer it, that way you can't use the same question later on as a cheat when you're running out of ideas for questions…deal?"

Liz nodded.

"Deal. So, who starts?"

Michael grinned.

"I do, of course, since I'm the one who came up with the idea." She groaned, but relented and gave him a nod, indicating that he should start. "Okay," he said, thinking of an easy first question. "I've got it…favorite color. What is it and why?"

At that, for no apparent reason, she blushed.

She stumbled for a moment and then said, "Gold. And not just any gold, but burnished gold. Like…like whiskey."

Liz stopped, and he pushed her, saying, "And why…?"

She started to say something, but then changed her mind and instead said, "Uh, no real reason, I guess." A pause. "What's yours?"

He didn't even have to think as he said, "Green."

She gave him a look, an eyebrow raised in skepticism at his all-too quick answer. "I'm guessing it's not grass green because of the fact that we have no real grass in Roswell," she said with a wry smile and he returned her look and said, "No, not grass green. More like a sage green. And the reason why…honestly, I don't know. It just is."

She gave him a look, raising an eyebrow yet again, but he brushed it off, so she said, "Okay, my turn for a question?" He nodded. She deliberated for a moment, and then asked, "Who's your favorite band?"

He hesitated, and then said, "Pearl Jam."

Liz suddenly smiled.

"Well, there goes my answer," she said, a wry smile appearing on her lips and he shook his head and said, "Nice try, Parker. C'mon. Who's your real favorite group?"

She shrugged, and then finally said, "Velvet Chain."

He looked at her surprise, not quite believing what she had just said, but when he saw the serious look in her eye, he knew that she was being serious and he smiled and shook his head, instinctively reaching up with his right hand to run his fingers through his hair, but then he winced when the metal cuff dug into his wrist, reminding him why he was sitting there in the first place.

"Velvet Chain? Really?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. They have this song called Strong that I really like. It's, uh, got this really cool sound to it. I can play it for you some time, if you want," she added, dropping her eyes from his, not really sure how he would take her invitation.

Michael nodded and said, "Yeah, sure. Fine with me."

Surprised that he'd said yes so easily, Liz brought her eyes back up to his and flashed him a wide a smile, pleased that he was willing to spend more time with her outside of hanging out with everyone else, completely unaware of the effect that her smile had on him.

And then he added, "Only if you're willing to listen to some Pearl Jam."

She let out a fake groan and said, in a voice that told him that she was messing with him, "If I have to, Guerin."

He smiled at that, and they continued their game. They both became so engrossed in asking each other questions, that they were soon beyond the twenty question limit, and they were unaware of the fact that several of the cops in the station were now smiling at them, all of them seeing something that they'd never seen before.

Two teenagers who claimed to be just friends, inadvertently flirting with each other while handcuffed to chairs in a police station. The Deputy Sheriff watched them with a wry grin on his face, trying not to laugh out loud as Guerin asked the girl what her favorite restaurant in Roswell was, as he could see straight through the kid's casual question and could see the boy silently calculating in his head how much it would cost to take the Parker girl there.

Teenagers. Boy was he glad that he wasn't one anymore.

Sheriff Valenti walked out into the bullpen from his office and sidled up next to him and said, "Okay, Anderson, who did you get tonight?"

"Two teenagers trespassing on government property, down at the Roswell Airport," Deputy Anderson said. "Second offense for Guerin being at the airport, but it's a first-ever offense for his unwitting female partner in crime, who also has the charge of resisting arrest, as well."

He smiled when he saw Valenti look over at the two chairs, his eyes going wide when he saw who was sitting next to Michael Guerin, handcuffed to a chair just like he was, and he said, "Liz Parker? What is she doing out with Michael Guerin on a Friday night?"

Anderson shrugged.

"Beats me. Why don't you go ask her?"

Valenti gave him a nod.

"Yeah, I think I will," he said, and then walked over to the two delinquents, taking off his hat and gripping it tightly in his right hand.

Anderson chuckled under his breath.

Part 4/?