PART 4

*****

"When one canoe disappears, another one takes it's place"

- Maori saying -

*****

Max barely had time to react before he was in the car with Liz. Maybe fifteen seconds had passed since she'd run up to him outside of the school, declared that she had to speak to him and dragged him over to the car. Max had obliged and stepped into the car, not asking any silly questions (although he had a bunch in store) seeing as Liz seemed so wound up.

They drove in silence for about ten minutes. But when they passed the "Thank you for visiting Roswell" sign, Max felt he had to find out what was going on. He glanced at Liz whose eyes were glued to the road.

"So, Liz..." he began. She didn't react so he went on speaking. "I'm sort of going to miss history, so I'm thinking that maybe you owe me an explanation? To this sudden... travel-wish of yours."

Liz didn't for a second take her eyes off of the road. "Listen, Max, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to be quiet during the ride. I'm not really an excellent driver, and if I get distracted there's the chance I might... you know, crash."

"Oh." Max felt it was best to stay silent, it would be rather unfortunate to get into some stupid accident now. He turned his attention to the landscape rushing by outside. And he kept his eyes on it and saw the scenery become more barren, but also more beautiful and magical, and as they continued their drive Max slowly came to the realization that they were going some place he'd never been before.

He glanced at Liz. Her mouth was a firm line and her eyes were squinting at the early afternoon sun. Careful not to block her view even the slightest, he slowly reached up and folded down the shade. Her eyes were hid from the sun and she smiled.

"Thanks," she said, and let her shoulders drop a little. Max smiled to himself, aware of the fact that he was in a car with the prettiest and most special girl he'd ever known, rushing towards an unknown, secret place. Not exactly his idea of a bad day.

*****

Isabel frowned as she stared down the road. Her irritation was growing every second and she checked her watch for the tenth time. Great. She was going to be late and it was all her stupid brother's fault. Of course he had to forget. Of course he had to turn senile on this very day and forget to pick her up. Oh, never mind that today was one of the most important days of her life, what with it being the first day that she was an official participant in one of the girls' dinner meetings. She checked her watch once more. Now it was forty-five minutes 'til she was supposed to be there. Forty-five minutes! That was usually the time it took for her to do her hair.

She sighed heavily and made a decision. She was going to accept that her brother wasn't coming to pick her up and she was going to walk home, call Darla and tell her she was going to be late. Then she would track Max down and kill him slowly and painfully with a Swiss Army knife.

As she started walking her gaze drifted across the parking lot and she stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted the Jeep. It was standing there in the same spot they had parked it in earlier the same day. Isabel frowned. That didn't make any sense. If Max didn't have the Jeep, then how had he gotten home?

"Hey, sweetheart, looking for a ride?"

Isabel turned her head at the age-old pickup line and found herself resting her eyes on the coolest car she had ever seen. Incidentally the guy behind the wheel was the hottest guy she'd ever seen. Isabel smiled. Now, this was more like it. She slowly and somewhat seductively sauntered over to the car. She tilted her head and brought one end of her sunglasses to her lips.

"Maybe."

The guy flashed a sixty-thousand dollar smile at her and her heart started beating faster.

"Is that an actual maybe or is it a subtle wish to join me in the car?"
One of her mother's guidelines that Isabel actually followed was "never get in a car with a stranger". But this was no ordinary stranger and Isabel found herself opening the door and placing herself in the passenger's seat. The guy slowly pulled out in the street. Isabel observed his well-built biceps bulging out from under the sleeves of his tight t-shirt and almost giggled at the scene's resemblance to some trashy Harlequin novel.

"I'm Isabel," she said, never letting go of her trademark sexy smile.

"Kyle," the guy said simply. "Kyle Valenti."

Isabel raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "You wouldn't happen to have a relative who's in law enforcement?"

"Sure do. My dad's the sheriff in this town."

"Oh really?" Isabel was surprised. "I've never seen you around."

Kyle shrugged. "Well, I only arrived here last week. I've been living in California with my aunt for quite a while."

Isabel was truly impressed. "California, wow! Oh, you can't be happy about trading that for this dump."

"Well, I must admit I was rather pissed when I first heard about it, but I don't know..." He eyed her with a crooked smile. "Seems things are starting to go my way."

Isabel smiled back, pleased. It seemed things were starting to go her way too.

*****

Maria thought she was going to be sick. She tried to avoid looking straight at the man, but was forced to when he started waving his chubby fingers in front of her face.

"Hello?" he said. "Earth to alien girl."

She would've laughed at the irony in his comment if it weren't for the fact that she was frantically trying to be a good waitress at the same time as she was busy keeping her stomach in order.

"Oh, yeah, sorry... What were you having?"

She looked at him, although reluctantly, and saw his face. And oh yes, there it was. The very large clut of melted cheese hanging on for dear life to his lower lip, only sliding a bit back and forth against his chin as he spoke.

"As I said earlier, when you weren't listening, I'm having another one of them burgers with the wacky name, and fries and a shake."

She scribbled frantically on her pad, glad to get her eyes away from his face. She nodded as she wrote the last word. "Got it," she mumbled.

But of course he couldn't let her get away that easily. "Are you sure you got it?" he drawled in his broad, southern accent.

"Yes, I'm sure I got it!" She spat out the words through gritted teeth. Then she grabbed the empty plate from in front of him and retreated to the kitchen. She sent the plate off across the counter towards the sink, but missed it and there was a loud crash as the plate instead fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces.

"Hey! That'll be drawn from your paycheck!" The cook stuck his red face around the corner, glaring at her.

"Whatever," Maria yelled. "It's not my fault that no one's doing the dishes around here."

She was about to lose her temper. This day just wasn't kind to her. Not many days lately had been kind to her, as a matter of fact. Ever since the Big Revealing, where Max found out about them, her nerves had been under constant strain and it had been pointed out to her by Liz and Alex more than once that she wasn't much fun being around.

She stomped over to the cleaning closet and fished up a keychain from her pocket. The first key she tried didn't fit and it was the final one she tested that slid into the lock. She twisted it fiercely to the right. Nothing happened. She tried again, but the door wasn't unlocking. Once again she cursed the fact that she didn't have as much control over her powers as Liz and Alex, or else she would've fixed the door open bye working some alien mojo.

She gave a little yell, and in a fit of desperation she started kicking at the door at the same time as she shook the key back and forth in the lock. She was getting angrier by the second and frustrated as hell. Everything was against her. Not even the damn key to the cleaning closet was cooperating.

Then she felt a pair of strong arms encircle her and two big, warm hands closed over her shaking ones, one on the key and one on the handle. She felt the warmth of a body behind her and a low voice spoke in her ear.

"Here, let me help you with that."

The hands slowly and firmly pulled up the handle of the door before twisting the key. She heard the lock click and then the door glided open as the handle was pushed down. She noticed her erratic breathing and she inhaled deeply and held her breath to stop her lungs from wheezing the way they liked to when she got worked up.

The hands let go of her trembling fingers and found their way up to her shoulders. Resting there, they firmly pushed her inside the closet. After letting go of her, the person stepped in beside her and observed the mess.

"How ironic. You people need a cleaner for your cleaning closet."

Maria didn't even have enough strength to fire the usual sarcastic remark at him. Instead she just stood there, regaining her composure. They were silent for a while before she spoke.

"Thanks," she said. "For the, uh... assistance."

He shrugged. "No problem. I saw you getting a little crazy and I was like, "Everybody asks me how she's doing, has she really lost her mind?", so..."

She smiled, but didn't look at him. "We're standing her in a cleaning closet and you're quoting Dave Matthews band to me. You're so... odd."

"Yep." He grinned, clearly impressed that she'd recognized the song. "I'm your help, I'm your dream, I'm nothing in between, I know you wouldn't want it any other way..."

"Meredith Brooks. It's getting easier. I think you're losing your touch."

"Nah, I'll never lose my touch."

She couldn't help but look up at him then and when she saw his sly grin, she blushed and quickly turned her head away. She started rummaging around, looking for a broom.

"I really didn't think you'd know that one," he said. "I mean, the quote."

"I thought you'd understood by now. There's not a song quote on this planet that I don't know of."

"So I'll have to get intergalactic will I? Any good rock groups on your home planet?"

"Why are you here, really?" Maria said with a sigh. "I mean, apart from saving me and helping me conquer the portal to the cleaning closet."

"I just came in to see how you were doing. You know, maybe talk a little."

Maria grunted as she heaved out a bucket blocking the broom. "That is so lame."

"What do you mean lame?"

"What you're saying. "I just wanted to talk a little"." She gave a small laugh. "I mean, that's more transparent than a..." She searched her mind for a suiting metaphor, but finding none, she shrugged. "I don't know. Something really transparent."

"What, it's so strange that someone might want to talk to you? Geez, you don't have very high thoughts of yourself."

"I didn't mean it like that," she said. "I meant, you know, about the bet. It strikes me as somewhat strange that you suddenly want to talk to me, now that there's 20 bucks involved. Your attempts, to win the bet, they're rather lame."

Now that she had retrieved the broom from its hidingplace, she looked him straight in the eye, and was surprised by his expression.

"The bet?" His face was one big question mark. Then realization dawned on him. "Oh, right, the bet. Yeah... I understand your comment now."

She could do nothing but stare at him, puzzled. Could this be true? Could it be that he had actually forgotten about the bet and only came in here to see her? No, that was stupid. She shook the thoughts away a second after they entered her mind. Of course he hadn't forgotten. He was just trying to make her believe he had wanted to see her. It was all part of the game.

An angry yell from the cook reminded her of the fact that there was broken china to be sweeped up and angry customers to be served. She hurried out of the cleaning closet without responding to Michael's words.

*****

"Close your eyes."

Max obeyed, although he desperately wanted to ask why he had to have his eyes closed. He stood there for a while, listening to Liz locking the car and retrieving something from its trunk, before he felt her small hand grab his arm by the elbow and drag him off. The speed was a bit on the high side for a blindfold walk but he kept his eyes shut and instead took ridiculously careful steps. He smiled to himself, knowing that he must look like John Cleese doing his "funny walk".

They kept on walking in silence. Every now and then Liz slowed down and helped him over tree trunks and rocks, but soon after she picked up the speed again and went on. Max felt himself grow strangely calm. Technically his body should be tense and anticipating a sudden drop or obstacle, but he found he was completely relaxed. He trusted Liz, with his life even. 'Well, it's only fair, seeing as she saved it,' he thought to himself.

He let his head drop back and he took a deep breath of the hot but clear desert air. The chirping of birds was all around him and a light, warm breeze ruffled his hair. It was so peaceful, so tranquilizing that for a moment he forgot where he was. The reminder came rather abruptly, as he bumped into Liz who had stopped walking.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he said, trying to regain his balance, but with the blindfold he lost all sense of orientation and found himself falling, flat on his back.

"Max!" Liz was beside him in an instant, freeing him from the blindfold. When it came off, he squinted, adjusting his eyes to the light. He leaned on his elbows and shook the sand and grass out of his hair. Then he felt Liz's hands on both sides of his face.

"God, are you okay?" Concern was all over her pretty features. He found himself thinking that her worry for him was quite becoming.

"Well, I can't speak for God, but I myself am okay."

She smiled at him and his stomach went flip-flop.

"So, that was interesting," he said as he slowly, and with her assistance, got to his feet. "I've never been on a blindfold walk through the desert before. But I guess there's a..."

His words caught in his throat along with his breath as he looked up, and his heart dropped right down into his stomach.

There was incomprehensible space before him. The ledge they apparently were on ended just a few feet ahead, then dropped down into nothing, leaving a gap of maybe five hundred feet before the rocks continued on the other side. Far, far away, mountains stretched along the horizon, and leading up to them were fields of red, sharpedged rocks. But the canyon down below him rebelled with its soft greens and yellows and blues, shutting out the dry desert and creating a world of its own, completely out of place in the harsh vastness of the desert. It was so unbelievably beautiful.

Max's mouth formed words that never reached further than his throat and his eyes suddenly grew misty. He blinked frantically, wanting more of this astounding sight, and was shocked when he felt tears spill over and burn his cheeks. He tried to stop them, this was stupid, what was he doing? Why was this happening? Why was he crying? He felt Liz take his hand and squeeze it, and then suddenly his mind was spinning wildly. He tried to grasp a thought in the mess, but all he got was single words, shooting out at him and screaming like sirens.

Alone. The tears kept on flowing and Liz gripped his hand even harder. A tingle started at his fingers and worked its way up his arm. Alone. It's crazy. Where? Somewhere. Alone. Somewhere.

Images filled his head. They were of Liz, all of them. With Maria. With Alex. With her parents. Alone.

The words screamed louder, they all wanted his attention and he tried, he really tried to listen, but they were getting louder by the second, all of them at once.

Come in. Here somewhere. Crazy? Come in, alone. Crazy. Crazy. So small. It's huge. It's perfect. Where? It's perfect. Somewhere. Alone. Mindboggling. Come with me. Come on in. My mind. Somewhere. It's time. That's crazy. Alone. My mind, mindboggling. That's crazy. It's so big. It's perfect. Alone. I'm so alone.

Max barely heard himself scream before everything went black.

*****

"Okay, so how 'bout this one?"

Michael finished his piece of art before showing it to Maria. She looked at the plate, turned it around, squinted and then shook her head.

"I don't have the faintest idea," she said. "But if I'd have to guess, I'd say... the Eiffel tower."

Michael gave an exasparated sigh. "No, no, no. It's a giraffe!"

Maria raised her eyebrows. "If that's a giraffe, then I'm Queen Elizabeth."

"Well I guess you just can't appreciate fine art, Your Majesty. 'Cause that's a giraffe. It's as clear as anything."

"It is not. It doesn't even look like an animal, let alone a giraffe," Maria said. "I thought you were supposed to be good at drawing. Aren't you, like, the only person ever to get an A in miss Malone's class?"

"Sure am," he answered, not hiding his pride. "Which only proves that you're the one who doesn't have an artistic eye. This is a giraffe. Deal with it."

"Whatever," Maria said. They were still in the Crashdown, but it was almost closing time and there were hardly any customers to tend to. Michael had come up with the brilliant idea that they should play Ketchup Pictionary about half an hour earlier, and they'd had a lot of laughs trying to guess what the other had drawn with tomato sauce on the plate.

Michael looked at his watch and got to his feet. "I hate to leave on the verge of another fascinating argument, but I have a great big social studies test on Monday, and right now I'm not even sure which party our current president represents."

"Figures," Maria said with a smirk, as Michael put his jacket on.

"I won't be offended by that," Michael said. "The fact of the matter is that I just think everything about politics is so bloody boring, and not worth knowing."

"There's nothing wrong with that, I mean, a little anarchy's always refreshing, but there's a big difference between rejecting politics because you're against the system, and just not be bothered learning anything about it because you're too lazy."

"Catchy. You should start a political party of your own, you know."

"Well, I might just do that!"

Michael shook his head. "I don't have time for this. As much as I hate politics, it'll be straight to the horrors of summer school if I flunk social studies."

"Yeah, go on, do as you always do, run off the minute you realize your wrong."

Michael gave a crooked smile. "Oh, I'm not wrong. I just don't have time to sit around and chat. We can finish this discussion tomorrow evening. You can keep on biting my head off at Senor Chow's, if that suits you."

Maria couldn't believe her ears. "Excuse me?" she spat out. "Tomorrow evening? Senor Chow's?!"

"If you're not busy. But I'm guessing you won't be, seeing as your social life's pretty much non-existent."

"You have some nerve..." Maria searched her mind for insults, but she was too worked up to come up with anything good.

"Oh, give it up and say yes already. I have to start now if I'm gonna have a chance to win the bet."

Maria shook her head in disbelief. "I don't believe you!! You are so... so..." She gestured wildly with her hands to try and illustrate what she meant. Michael followed her moves.

"Sexy? Exciting? Magically attractive?"

"Shameless." Maria said and stopped her waving.

"That's what you like about me, right?" Michael said with a grin.

Maria rolled her eyes. "I give up. You're hopeless."

"You give up? So you're saying yes to the date?"

Maria sighed. "Just as long as you're paying."

Michael grinned, and for a while Maria thought he seemed truly pleased that she wanted to go out with him, but then she reminded herself 'It's just about the bet. Nothing else. Stay focused.'

"Saturday it is, then," he said, and picked up his bag. And then he did something that caught Maria completely off guard – he leaned over the counter and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. With a swift wave, he then exited the Crashdown, leaving Maria completely dumbfounded, the imprint of Michael's lips still burning on her cheek.

-------------------------------------

A/N: Well. This is all there is so far. I don't know, maybe I'll continue this story some time in the future, if I go on a great big creative whim or something, because I remember that I really enjoyed writing it, but I wouldn't count on an update in the near future. Anyway, for those of you who've made it this far, thanks a bunch for taking your time to read this story, and please leave a quick review to let me know what you thought of it.