Rising from the couch a good while later, Michael stood and stretched. He glanced down at Liz, who had followed his movements from beneath her lashes, and answered the question he saw in her eyes as he moved towards the door. "I'm going to head out to the yard and grab my bag, maybe see if I can stick my bike in that woodshed around the side of the cabin."
Liz looked up at him, his serious expression framed in the soft evening light streaming through the doorway. "Good idea. Seeing as Dade Falls is a hotbed of crime and all…" Liz cracked, smiling. Mimicking his movements and turning towards the bedroom, she missed the jolt in his stride.
Michael hurried outside and grabbed his bag off his bike anxiously. Liz didn't know it, but her innocuous comment had sent fear to his heart and sparked a debate in his head. 'To tell Liz, or not to tell Liz, that is the question. What has happened to you, man? You're quoting Shakespeare! Normally you only quote dead humans when something really big is going on.' His thoughts drew him back to an evening in late 1999.
IHe was lounging on the couch arrogantly, attempting to annoy the snip of a human girl who had latched herself onto him that afternoon as he was attempting to find a ride to Marathon. Liz Parker's overanxious best friend, she hadn't sold them out, but was still too shaky a character to be trusting. Way too excitable, if you asked him, which no one had bothered to do since Max had ruined everything a few weeks before. Pushing down the resentment that rose like bile, Michael shifted his attention onto the girl, noting with surprise that her green gaze had been focused solely on him the entire time he let his mind wander.
She glanced down at the sheet she held like a shield in front of her chest and then returned her gaze to his face. Michael followed her gaze, not above noticing the rapid rise and fall of her breasts that she tried to shield. She broke the uncomfortable silence with a question," So, do you get hungry just like the rest of us?"
Restraining a snort and a roll of the eyes, he decided to humor her, admiring her guts for speaking to someone she that so obviously terrified her," Yeah. Of course I get hungry." He broke his stare and looked around the room, anywhere but at the girl, who, like her friend was for Max, seemed to be a lodestone for his more human attentions.
Emboldened, she asked curiously," What, uh...what other human urges do you feel?"
Standing, he took two steps towards her, bringing her body within a hairsbreadth of his own. Then, as coldly as he could," Not if you're the last woman on Earth."
Her eyes fell from his, and she responded off the bat," Ditto. And so you'll know, I am not gonna be getting an "F" on this assignment, so...you better start answering some questions. Right now, pal-ly, and I mean for real. So, favorite ice cream flavor?"
Michael grimaced at the obvious pain in her voice, and decided that for once, he wouldn't make it hard on someone. "Pistachio."
She bit her lip as she scribbled down his answer," Pistachio...favorite TV show?"
"Win Ben Stein's Money."
"Ok, favorite book?"
"James Joyce…Ulysses." He answered honestly.
She glared up at him and he almost smiled. She really was cute all riled up like this. "You have not read Ulysses."
This time, he did roll his eyes at her righteousness. Who was she to question him? The likely hood of her having read anything other than last month's issue of Seventeen or Paranoia Weekly was doubtful." "What incensed him the most was the blatant jokes of the ones who pass it all off as a jest, pretending to understand everything and in reality not knowing their own minds."" His eyes bore into hers; only to be disappointed by the blank expression of bewilderment, and he turned away, frustrated at her failure to be other than what he thought." Page 655...told you you wouldn't understand. Next question."/I
Michael pushed himself up off his bike as he broke the thought and remembered what had happened next. Max and Liz had grown closer, even as he and Maria had backed off. Then Tess and Nasedo had arrived, followed by Topolsky's second appearance, Pierce and the Skins. The Gandarium had been hot on the heels of the Skins, and the entire year had come to a close with Alex's death and Tess's betrayal.
He winced as he remembered Liz's reaction to Alex's death, everyone's reactions. Anger swept through him as he thought about the way he had given in to Max at the end of sophomore year, the way he had let him tell them that Tess was one of them, and the way he had accepted her. It was lies, all that she had told them. And look where it had gotten them. With an innocent man dead. Alex dead.
As he rolled his bike towards the empty woodshed, Michael came to a decision. He would tell Liz why he was here. He would tell her about the pulse and about Max's order. He would start with the truth. No lies. And maybe she'd be able to see around his reason for coming and its ties to the past she wanted to forget long enough to let him stay.
~*~
As she stood in front of the small closet attached to the bathroom, Liz laughed softly to herself. Michael thought his bike was going to get stolen here? In Dade Falls? Doesn't Michael know when he's safe anymore? Or has he been running for so long that he doesn't know what it would feel like to just stop?'
As she reached up to grab a blanket or two, and extra towels for the bathroom, she realized that she could show him. She could show him that there was a possibility for a life without danger, without the need to be constantly checking over his shoulder. Maybe for a few days, she could help him be happy.
Then the thought struck her, maybe he already knew that he would be happy here. A slightly giddy smile swept across her face and she moved to the bathroom, before doubt settled in. Why had he come? Why Dade Falls? And why her? Yes, Maria had left Roswell, but what brought Michael here? Why come to her? The only real connection we have is through her, he can't help but be reminded of her when he's with her.
Liz felt a stab of hurt in her stomach at the thought, but pushed on, turning her thoughts away from her emotions and turning towards the practical,' How did he find me? I'd only given him the number for an emergency, and despite the sharp pains the thought gave us both, Maria's departure wasn't an emergency. Certainly not one large enough for him to talk Valenti into turning the phone number into an address. Nor enough of one for him to leave Roswell without a call. Yes, Michael wasn't the most considerate of guys, but even he rarely burst in on one of us expecting an invitation to stay since he had gotten his own apartment. It really wasn't like him…'
Her questions drifted off as her mind once again settled on the fact that Michael had come to her and a warm glow spread through her body. She allowed herself to enjoy the feeling for a moment or two before her conscience kicked in. 'Dammit, Elizabeth. You've been single, really and truly uninvolved, for the first time in almost two years for two days, and you're already thinking about another guy. Forget whatever warm fuzzies the other night sparked in your stomach, you don't need it. And especially not with Michael.' Hearing the door close, she quickly put the towels on the bathroom rack and returned to the living room, resolved to keep things simple.
Entering the living room, she was struck by the chill in the air. Shivering, she rubbed her hands together, fighting the nip in the air. She felt her nipples tighten, and blushing, she stuck her hands in the sleeves of her sweater, and crossed her arms over her chest. Her gaze settled on Michael, standing by the fireplace, hand extended towards it.
He turned his head and saw her, "Liz, I need to tell you something…"
"No Michael," she cut him off and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. " We need to get a few things straight. I came here to get away from that." casting a glance at his outstretched hand, she continued, "This is my retreat, and I will not have another place I cherish touched with memories of healings and blue jello force fields. My home, my rules, and the first is: nothing otherworldly. No CDs playing on their own, no magically reheated food, and especially no mention of aliens—good aliens, bad aliens, alien hunters, alien dietary quirks, my teacher is an alien." At his confused look, a quick grin painted her face," It's a book. For kids. Bruce Coville? Never mind."
Michael looked at her steadily, taking her measure. Arms crossed and feet planted, she looked like a general, albeit a tiny one. He watched a grin sneak across her face as she realized that he was actually contemplating listening to her. Biting a lip, he decided that he wouldn't tell her about the pulse. Yet. If she looked to be in real danger, he'd break this rule of hers. For now, she seemed so happy and proud that he couldn't find the heart to ruin the peace she'd found here on account of a random email. Besides, there hadn't been any sign of danger yet, it could very well be a mistake." Fine." Liz positively beamed and he couldn't help but smirk back. "But, since you've so evilly robbed me of my powers, could you find it in that stone heart of yours to make me something to eat?"
She gaped at him," You've got to be kidding me, Guerin. Just cause you aren't allowed to use your powers doesn't mean you can't get up off your bed and walk to the kitchen to fix yourself a sandwich. Which is exactly what you'll have to do, as we're all out of caviar, and most other things, at the moment."
"My bed? You mean we're not sharing?" he teased, smirking at the look she sent his way.
"Yes, your bed. Where did you think you were sleeping? This isn't a hotel. You're not a paying customer. It's the couch for you, buddy. Don't worry, it folds out."
At the word 'paying' a slightly embarrassed expression crossed his face. "Eh, Parker? About money…"
Understanding dawned, and Liz was quick to recover. "No worries, the cabin and the bills are all paid for. Grandma Claudia took care of all of that before I even inherited this place. And I have plastic to pay for groceries and gas and all…"
He interrupted her, a hard expression having taken the place of his earlier bashful one. " I won't take charity."
"Who says it will be, Guerin? You'll work for it." With that, she threw him the blankets she had put at her feet earlier, and headed into the kitchen.
Hot on her heels, he followed her still blustering," My turn, Parker. All 'girly' products out of my sight. That means everything."
She laughed merrily at the expression on his face and the slight shudder that shook his broad shoulders," Works for me. All products will remain out of sight." Sending a glance up and down the length of his body, she sidled up to him and poked him in the chest playfully," Toilet seat down."
"Fine. Enough with the rules, I'm dirty and I'm exhausted, you mind if I take a shower?"
"Go ahead. Your one free sandwich will be waiting when you get out."
At her agreement, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Liz to rummage through the empty cabinets.
~*~
Liz sang along softly with the radio as she pulled nearly empty jars of peanut butter and jelly out of the cabinet and placed them next to the breadbox. As she came off her toes, she heard the distant rumble of thunder, and she remembered her laundry. Quickly putting together a sandwich, she dashed outside and gathered the laundry off the line, running inside as a second clap of thunder rolled.
Tossing the laundry on the couch, she pulled one of Claudia's ottomans over and sat. Letting her mind wander into dangerous territory as she listened to the water pounding in the bathroom, she went about the chore of folding her laundry. Liz tried in vain to concentrate on straight creases and matching seams, but her imagination was getting the better of her. She exhaled heavily, laundry always relaxed her. It wasn't working today though. Today, the feel of her clothes in her hands sent her overactive imagination straight to thoughts of Michael's black tee shirts, and they way they'd feel in her hands. She imagined they'd be soft and thin, stretched over muscles that, at this moment, probably weren't wearing anything but water. She heard a splash in the bathroom, and thought of Michael shaking his head, water splashing against the wall as his hair flew.
Once again trying to pry her attention from her thoughts and feelings they were stirring up, she reached her hand out for more clothes and grasped at empty air. Surprised, Liz looked around at the neat piles of clothes and mentally ran through what she had washed. There was her favorite pair of jeans, the ones with the fraying belt loops, and her new khakis. A concert tee shirt and an old jersey tee from when she played in the Roswell youth league as a kid, a couple pairs of socks, and a single pair of cotton underwear with daisies. Liz racked her brain for the other items she had washed, and then it hit her. Her good underwear. It was in the bathroom. On the towel racks. Oh Lord, her underwear was in the bathroom with Michael.
Just as quickly as she had jumped to the conclusion, she heard the water shut off. Tearing her mind from the thoughts of Michael stepping out of the shower, she gathered all of her neatly folded clothes into a pile and hurried to the bedroom. She yanked the drawers open and dumped her clothes in all at once, not noticing the wrinkles that formed almost immediately. Liz slammed the drawer shut and stood for a moment inside the door, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Once composed, she pushed the door open and turned the corner.
And ran right into Michael's bare chest. Liz's newfound composure fled as she felt his hands, still damp, run up her arms and grasp her shoulders firmly. Tearing her eyes away from the planes of muscle, she looked up at him, and gasped as a flash of awareness ran through her. She shivered as the heat from his hands seeped into her body, sending a curl of heat down her front. Seeing a similar flame of awareness in his eyes, Liz broke away, taking a step backwards. She immediately felt the loss of his warmth as the cool air reached the damp spots on her shoulders where his hands had been.
Her gaze fell to the floor, consciously skipping over the edges of the towel where damp curls of hair were beginning to dry and focused on his feet where a small puddle of water was beginning to form.
His eyes followed hers, and with a smirk on his lips, he caught her eyes. " No worries Parker, I'll clean it up. Or maybe you should. After all, you did break the rules." Her eyes widened as he reached through the bathroom door and pulled out her navy lace bra. "Bras are most definitely in the category of 'girly' things."
Blushing furiously, Liz reached out and snatched it from him, hiding her arm behind her back. She cleared her throat, and then muttered as she walked past him into the bathroom," You're still dripping, Guerin." Grabbing her other undergarments, she brushed past him as he laughed softly. Her embarrassment turning to irritation, she fired at him," Oh, get over it. It's not like you've never hung your underwear up to dry," and strode towards the bedroom door.
Pushing it open, she was just able to hear him say," I'd have to wear it first," and laugh as he saw her step falter. With that statement burning in her mind, Liz threw the underwear into a drawer and collapsed on the bed. Breathing heavily, she tried to get control of her thoughts, which kept darting back towards the shocking image of Michael that his words had drawn in her mind and why Maria had never mentioned this very salient point. She heard something crackling in the next room and got off the bed to investigate. She found Michael in the next room in a pair of sweats in front of the fire. "I said no powers."
Seeing the suspicious glance she was sending at the fire, Liz heard Michael sigh. "No Parker, it's real. I'm not the one that's breaking the rules on the very first day." Smirking, he watched her lips tighten," I used wood, old newspaper, and a match. I'm assuming that's not too advanced for you? A whole lot of unnecessary work if you ask me."
"I didn't," she snapped.
Grinning, he straightened and crossed to the couch, sitting back and getting comfortable. He watched her curiously, wondering if she was already regretting her decision from that afternoon. Deciding he might as well push his luck, he grunted," I'm hungry Parker. Didn't you promise me a meal?"
Liz pursed her lips and contemplated him for a moment," It's a pity we don't have TV, Guerin. You look just like your average middle-aged American male ready to watch Monday Night Football." She turned as she heard the snort he couldn't prevent from escaping before she headed towards the kitchen.
"Well if I'm the average American male, that would make you the little woman, Parker. So honey, tell me, what's for dinner?"
Her voice dripping with sarcasm, she replied," Peanut Butter and Jelly. It's all we've got." She paused," Honey."
He winced, and she almost giggled," And let me guess, no pizza delivery?" At her quick head shake he hung his head in disgust," You sure now how to pick a place Parker."
She laughed, and went into the kitchen, returning with just a glass of water. "So where is it Parker?"
"Nice try. I'm not a waitress here, no couchside service. You'll have to get it yourself." Liz said with a serene smile. She giggled as he sent her a dirty look and pushed himself up off the couch grudgingly. Hearing her giggle he turned and let one last comment fly," Never figured you for the lace and satin type, Parker."
She stood and headed to the bedroom muttering," Forget it, I'm going to bed." Then she paused and added cryptically, " There's a lot about me underneath that you don't know."
~*~
Liz collapsed on the bed and listened to the sounds of Michael getting ready for bed from the next room. She giggled as she heard him bump into the ottoman she had left by the couch. He must not have found the knob on the lamp in the growing dark, and the fire probably didn't provide that much light. She called out," What ever happened to your alien-intensified senses?"
He growled at her, frustrated," You said no powers, Parker."
Smiling, she rolled over and groped for the handle to the bed stand drawer. Finding it, she smiled satisfied and pulled out her journal.
August 10, 2001
Today was supposed to be my third day of peace and relaxation, but instead, it's been full of turmoil. Wasn't my plan to leave that in Roswell? I guess what they say about the best-laid plans of mice and men is true after all. Back to the turmoil. You'll never believe who showed up on my doorstep this afternoon. No, not Max, and that's the first conclusion I would have jumped to also. But no, it wasn't Max Evans who came to me, it was Michael. He and Maria broke up, I guess that's what he must have been so upset about the other night, and she left for LA. She didn't even tell me about it and that hurts like crazy. At least it did when Michael first mentioned it. Now it's kinda just joined in with all the other blows that I've been dealt recently so it's just an ache.
I barely even noticed it today though. Since he got here, he's been turning my little retreat upside down. He managed to taunt me, embarrass me, make me mad, and make me pity him, all in the space of one afternoon. I doubt the last one was a result he wanted, but I didn't let him know, so that should be okay. He flusters me. Turns my head upside down and scrambles it. Not just my head either, but my insides. And that's not even intentional, I don't think. I don't know how Michael could have *planned* to be standing dripping and shirtless, dressed in only a towel when I came out of my room, but he was. And I have to say that Maria is was a very lucky girl. Who knew Michael was hiding that underneath his funny shirts? Very different from Max, who flashed his arms, and his pecs at every possible point. It was kind of daunting dating a guy with bigger breasts than me. This is a very bad sign. No good can come of comparing my ex-boyfriend and his best friend, who happens to be my best friend's ex-boyfriend. No good at all.
It all comes down to this: Seeing Michael here in Colorado was crazy, it was the last thing I expected, but I think it may have been the first thing I needed.
Liz
~*~