Irony

Irony

Chapter 10

Author: Margarita

Email: margarita782@hotmail.com

Category: Liz angst, slight M/L romance.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Roswell and all of the characters from the show do not belong to me. "In the End" is by Linkin Park, and all lyrics belong to them.

Author's Note: The first part of this is taken directly from the episode "Harvest." All lyrics are in italics. Parts of this piece take place in the future; note the dates at the beginning of the chapters.

Spoilers: "The End of the World," "Harvest," "Max in the City."

Summary: Liz deals with the aftershocks of her promise to future Max.

Warning: Character death.

*Things aren't the way they were before.
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore.
Not that you knew me back then,
But it all comes back to me (in the end)…*

June 2006, 3 days before the anniversary of Max's death

The first thing that I noticed when I woke up this morning was that I was very warm. I stretched contentedly, bathed in the sunlight shining through my window. And then I noticed something else, which was that someone was in bed with me. This someone was curled up with their chest to my back, an arm draped protectively across my stomach. This someone had also obviously not been here when I had gone to bed. I shifted slightly, trying to see whom the mystery person was, but he only tightened his grip around my waist, pulling my back tightly to his chest. I felt something hard against the back of my thigh and began to panic when I realized that the person was decidedly male.

I tried to pull myself out of his grip, but he was fast asleep, so I resorted to beating on his arm and kicking him in the hopes that he would wake up and let me go. When that did not work, I began screaming.

"Let me go! Wake up!"

"Wha--?" I heard someone ask. I kicked him hard on the ankle. "Ow! What the hell are you doing?"

"Who are you" I shrieked, "and what are you doing in my bed? Let me go, you pervert!" I continued beating on his arm and then reached over my head and blindly grabbed a handful of hair. I pulled hard.

"What the fuck? Let go!" I felt someone grab my arm, detach it from his head, and shove me off the bed. When I untangled myself from the blankets, I looked up to see a very tired Michael. His hair was disheveled, and he was still half-asleep. "Bitch," he muttered. He grabbed a blanket from beside me on the floor, pulled it over his body, and went back to sleep.

"Nice to see you, too," I muttered. I decided to let him sleep while I took my shower and got dressed. When he woke up, I would find out exactly what he was doing in Roswell.

***

By the time Michael got up, I had already showered, dressed, and eaten breakfast. I was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper when he stumbled in wearing sweatpants, hair just as disheveled as before. He immediately walked to the refrigerator, took out the carton of orange juice, and began drinking from the container.

"Ugh! Michael, I have cups, you know."

"I'm proud of you, Parker," he said dryly. He walked over to the table with the carton of juice and turned a chair around so that he could straddle it. "Paper?" he asked. I gestured to the table and he picked up a section and began reading.

We sat in silence for a few moments. I propped my legs up on another chair and pulled his newspaper down so that I could see his eyes. "Michael," I began. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the area," he said, pulling the paper back up.

"So you just thought you'd drop in and sleep with me?" I asked. He dropped the paper and rolled his eyes.

"Liz, calm down. It's not like we had sex or anything."

"Thank God," I muttered. "You still scared me to death this morning."

"At least you weren't woken up by someone kicking you," he said pointedly.

"How was I supposed to know who you were?" I asked. "How did you get into my house, anyway? And why aren't you with Maria or Isabel or someone? I'm not exactly your favorite person, if I recall correctly."

He paused in thought for a moment. "My powers," he said finally. He looked around and then leaned across the table. "I come from up there," he whispered, pointing to the sky.

"Ha, ha, very funny." I rolled my eyes, and he smirked at me.

"Anyway, I went to Isabel's apartment first, but Alex was there, and, well…" He coughed.

I shuddered. "Ok, more than I ever wanted to know."

"Yep." He laughed. "They were going at it like rabbits."

"Michael! Shut up!"

He smiled and then continued. "So, anyway, I couldn't stay there. Tess and the Jock weren't home. And as for Maria, I decided that I wanted to live through the night and since she's going to kill me as soon as she sees me, you were the only option."

"I see. Well, you're more than welcome to stay here, as long as you don't scare me like that again." I paused. "Why are you in Roswell?"

"Isabel and Alex's wedding."

"That's not for three weeks though."

He shook his head at me. "They moved it up. Something about Isabel not wanting to plan a big wedding. It's Saturday."

I gasped. "That's in three days! Wait, how come they didn't tell me?"

"They decided it last night. Isabel told me right before she kicked me out of her apartment. Alex said to mention it to you when I got here."

"Oh." We sat in silence for a little while, and then Michael got up and put the orange juice back into the refrigerator.

"Mind if I take a shower?"

"What? Oh, no," I said absently.

"Ok." He turned to leave.

"Michael?" I asked.

He paused and looked at me. "What?"

"Do you blame me? You know, for what happened?"

He thought for a moment, and then slowly said, "No. At least, not anymore." He smiled a half-smile at me, and then walked out of the kitchen.