Max's spade tipped tail twitched nervously as he glanced at the clock again. The gargoyle night class had started five minutes ago and Liz wasn't there yet. She was never late for class. Had he done something wrong last night? Did he heal her only superficially? He was sure he had healed the wound completely, but he left in such a hurry that anything could have gone amiss. He sighed as the pale-skinned gargoyle teacher entered the class. Well, now it was even too late to sneak out and see if Liz was ok. He glanced around and saw Maria and the red-haired human, Alex, seated in the back row. This wasn't good. Shifting his weight again, Max tried to listen to the teacher.
"Now, today we are beginning our section on Shakespeare. To start out, we're going to begin reading Romeo and Juliet today in class." Her statement was met by many male groans, especially an incredibly loud ugh from Michael.
"Is there something wrong with that play, Michael?"
"It's a crummy romantic pile of mush. Can't we read something a little more exciting to start with?"
"I'm sorry that you don't agree with my choice of literature, but considering how little you are in this class, I don't think you have much say in the matter. And don't worry, I'll make sure to hook you up with a nice girl when you play Romeo."
Michael blanched to a pretty shade of pink and had a look of pure horror on his face as the other gargoyles snickered at the teacher getting the best of him. Once he got over his initial shock, he just glowered at the teacher as she ran her talons through her dark red hair.
"Don't fret, Michael. I wouldn't want to give you a legitimate reason to skip my class. I'll be taking volunteers for the parts. Now everyone come up and get your books."
As Max walked back to his seat after attaining his play, he noticed a familiar amber figure sneak through the door.
"Well, hello Liz. It's nice that you could make it to class. Are you feeling ok tonight?" the teacher asked softly.
"Yes, elder," Liz squeaked.
"That's good. And please, call me Angel. That whole elder thing makes me feel old. Please, grab a book and take a seat next to Max. We're just starting to read Romeo and Juliet. Now, do I have any willing victims to read in the first act?"
Max watched Liz's skin fade to a creamy color when she learned where she must sit. As she sat down beside him, he shifted uncomfortably in his chair again. After his interview, he had rehearsed what he was going to tell her, but that didn't make this any easier. The glares that Michael sent to him across the room and Isabel's cold shoulder treatment weren't helping either. Sighing, he opened his book to the first act. He felt a tap on his arm and turned to see Liz slide a note across the table. The words "I need to talk to you" stared up at him. Quickly glancing at Angel, he jotted, "After class." He pushed the note back to her, only to have it thrust back at him a few seconds later with "NOW" scribbled on the bottom. Suddenly, Liz grasped her stomach and moaned a bit.
"Liz, are you ok?" Angel questioned worriedly.
"I don't feel so good. I think I need to go to the nurse's office."
"Max, would you please take Liz to the infirmary? I don't think you need a pass, just go, now."
Max nodded and helped Liz out of her seat and out the door. As soon as they entered the hallway, Liz led him straight to the janitor's closet. When she pushed him inside and closed the door, Max was utterly confused.
"Liz, why are we in here? Are you ok? We should really go to the nurse's…"
He broke off as Liz started to lift her shirt up. Ok, so he had fantasized about this, but now wasn't the time. He sighed with relief when she just pulled her shirt up enough to expose her stomach and a slightly faded silver handprint.
"How did you do this?"
"Spray paint?"
Liz glared at him.
"You're not going to believe that, huh?"
Silence.
"Well, it's really hard to explain."
"Try me."
"I'm not originally from Roswell. I came here about fifty years ago."
"Wait, how old are you?"
"Thirty-six."
"Hold on that doesn't make any sense. How could you have come here fifty years ago and only be thirty-six."
"Well, I woke up twenty-four years ago."
"Woke up?"
"We were under some kind of sleeping charm or something like that."
"What do you mean? And who's we?"
Michael was going to kill him.
"Michael and I. And we think we arrived here during the Roswell crash."
Slack-jawed, Liz just stared at him for a moment.
"What? You mean to tell me that you're… That you're from… that's impossible! You can't be an alien."
"Well, at least you're right on that. I'm not an alien. Although that would be a whole lot easier. People actually believe in them. They even have TV shows. All we get are stories written by dead playwrights and lunatics."
"What are you talking about, Max?"
"Well, here goes nothing. I'm a gargoyle-fae half-breed."
"A what?"
Max blinked and took his turn to stare at her. He never thought that she wouldn't even know what he was talking about.
"The fae. You know. Titania? Oberon? A Midsummer's Night Dream? Fairies?"
"You have got to be kidding me. You expect me to believe this bullshit! I thought you trusted me Max."
Liz turned and stormed to the door. Oh god, she didn't believe him. He had to do something.
"Liz! Wait!"
"What? Are you going to tell me the truth now?"
"It is the truth."
He pushed up her shirt and laid his taloned hand against her stomach. He closed his eyes and, starting with his hand, willed his body to take human form. He felt his pinky talon split to create five fingers, his brow ridges, wings, and tail melting away, his feet reforming. Opening his eyes, he realized he was now eye level with Liz. She glanced down at her stomach and saw his hand perfectly covering the silver mark. Liz started to back away, but he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.
"I would never lie to you Liz. I would never do anything to hurt you."
Max slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the bullet that he had kept from last night. He opened her palm to place the bullet in it, but she jerked away. Fear shown in her onyx eyes as she slowly backed away from him. He had to do something or he was going to lose her again. Glancing at the bullet in his hand, he closed his eyes and envisioned it transforming, bending, lengthening, and twisting into itself. When he opened his eyes, a braided silver bracelet laid curled in the palm of his hand.
"Liz, here. Please, take it."
He could hear the desperation in his own voice, but the fear still swam in her eyes. She shook her head and, then, bolted out the door and down the hallway. Max quickly morphed back into his gargoyle form and ran out after her.
"Liz, wait!"
Sighing, he stopped when she ran through the school's double doors. That didn't go well at all.
"Max? Are you ok?"
Max sighed again and turned towards his teacher.
"Super."
"Doesn't sound like it? Do you want to talk about it after class?"
"No."
"Is Liz ok?"
Max glanced down at the bracelet in his hands.
"She's fine."
"Well, I'm sure she'll come around. Some events just need awhile to sink in."
Max stared at the elder gargoyle. Had she heard the conversation?
"Now, we better get back to class before Michael decides to re-enact the sword fight in Hamlet's finale. I wouldn't have dreamt of leaving him alone, but you two were taking an awfully long time and after the shock Liz went through last night, I was worried."
Max nodded and followed Angel back to the classroom.
"So, Max. You up for playing Romeo?"