Title: Whom among us Part four

Author: Chris Kenworthy

Email: Chris_Kenworthy@yahoo.com

Rating: PG-13 for now

Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the Roswell characters. I don't plan to steal them and lock them up in white rooms either. ;-) I just let them out to play from time to time and see what happens.

Distribution: Distribute anywhere you like, now based at http://www.fanfiction.net/~chriskenworthy

Author's notes: Future fic. Assumes that Liz has a lot more luck cutting Max out of her life after 'End of the world.' There's been a lot of furor over whether this qualifies as a dreamer fic, so watch out if you have no tolerance for rebel-ness.

Spoilers: End of the world. Scattered concepts after that.

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Michael blinked once and then began speaking smoothly to the security officers: "Well, we- we were just running a bit of a bit of an errand for Professor..." He stalled out.

"Patternuss," Liz supplied quickly. "He wanted us to drop these prints and these files off in his office so he could start working on them as soon as he arrived."

"Department leaders, huh?" Michael whispered conspiratorially to one of the guards. "Too important to climb a few flights of stairs to get to the observatory - in the daytime, at least."

"You were just up in the observatory?" the lead guard asked. Liz and Michael exchanged a nervous look. "Sorry, I'm afraid we're going to have to hold the three of you until we can get ahold of Doctor..."

At this point a drunk male student burst into the stairwell, muttering obscenities in a low voice, weaving unsteadily, and seeming about to vomit on the guards.

Liz breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption, but Michael was not so pleased. "Damnit," he whispered. Liz could tell what he was saying not so much by sound as by the way his lips moved. "Iz, Tess, not *that* kind of diversion now!" He waited a second, then whirled around, his gaze centering on Liz. "Damnit, Iz," he muttered aloud, shaking Liz's shoulder. "Listen to *me*."

Suddenly a faint presence in the back of Liz's mind that she hadn't really been aware of went away. Obviously Isabel had been monitoring her thoughts, and Michael realized that the best way to grab Iz's attention was to speak to her through Liz herself.

The drunk disappeared, but both security officers were looking were he had been and affected no shock and surprise, so Liz assumed that she was now simply being left out of the illusion. Meanwhile, Michael was rushing forward, obviously interacting with the unreal man.

"Careful, buddy, you don't want to hurt yourself," Liz heard him muttering. She also noticed that Kenner was now carrying the prints. Liz took a few steps away and some deep breaths, trying to get herself back under control and not panicked. It would still take a lot of effort to get out of this without the security officers reporting them.

"No, no, no," Michael was saying to the school-a-cops. "You've got to make sure that he's not lying on his back, or he could choke on his own chunks and die! You wouldn't want the school or yourselves to be liable for that, would you? Sheesh, didn't they teach you the Bacchus maneuver in security training."

At that point, two new figures came on the scene. Real figures, although Liz wasn't sure everyone was seeing them as they were. One was Max, in an official-looking uniform. (Where had he managed to get it on such short notice? Oh, he could probably have rearranged the molecules of his own clothes.) One of his 'others' was beside him, the one who had told Liz off for being early. Of the third member of Max's team there was no sign.

The reaction of the guards was unusual, though. "Doctor Patternuss!" the lead guard said, recognizing (!) Max's friend. "A moment of your time, please. These people were..."

"Yes, yes, it's perfectly all right," 'Patternuss' said. "They were just fetching some things for me from the observatory. I know I forgot to..."

"Green flag computer access at this time of the morning," the guard supplied helpfully. "Or let us know that someone would be coming..."

"Well, I think it should be obvious that this whole situation is a non-event," Max decided, speaking now for the first time. "Don't file a report on any of this," e instructed the guards. "I don't think anybody needs to hear about it, that would just embarrass the good Doctor. Clear?" They nodded. "Well, I think I saw some students loitering suspiciously in front of the science library. Go check it out. I'll take care of our friend over there." After a surreptitious nod from Michael, Max waved in the direction of the imaginary drunk. The two guards left.

Liz kept her sigh of relief buried until they all got back to Isabel's suite.

* * * * *

"I'm sorry I panicked back there," Liz apologized. "I nearly got you all into even more trouble."

"No, I'm the one who should have known better than to act before I had thought it all through," Tess said ruefully. "A drunk. What did I expect that to accomplish? At least you have a good excuse, Liz. You haven't done this kind of thing in years."

"At least Michael saw how to turn it into part of a workable plan," Isabel said admiringly, grabbing his hand in hers.

"Well," Michael said, turning to Liz. "We've got what you came for, so now you can... leave."

Liz snorted. "You may have the data, but I'll fall over dead if you have any clue how to use it. Huh?" Silence greeted Liz's prediction. "So I guess I'll have to stick around a little longer." That said, she thought for a second, and headed for the door.

"Wait, Liz!" Max called out. "Where are you going??"

"To pick up some resources we'll need," she told him.

* * * * *

Once again, Liz knocked nervously on a door.

A sleepy groan emerged from inside, followed by a more coherent "Huh?" and finally words. "Who is it and why are you bothering me so early?"

Liz couldn't help but laugh. "It's Liz Parker and I'm sorry, but I need a favor."

A long moment of silence, then creaky residence-bed sounds, footsteps, and the door opened, revealing Pete Wilson in a navy bathrobe and anime pajamas. "How early is it, Liz Parker??"

"It's eight thirty," Liz admitted. "I'm really sorry, but..."

"Whatcha need?" Pete interrupted with a sigh.

Liz blushed. "The laptop."

"For how long?"

Liz hesitated. "Oh, the weekend should cover it."

Pete pondered a second, and Liz worried that he was figuring out how to refuse her. "Oh, fine. I'm gonna be going home for the weekend anyways." He backed away from the door, letting Liz come into his room and approach the computer sitting at his desk. "Whatcha need it for, anyway"

Liz froze for a second. Helping a bunch of extraterrestrials I know get a message from their home planet. "Extra credit assignment." You get extra credit for helping to save a civilization, right?

Not if you're just doing it to try to impress an ex-boyfriend, who happens to be as good as married now.

"Can you... tell me any less?" Pete joked as he started unplugging connections from the hardware.

"Probably not," Liz laughed. "But no more either. Sorry, it's kind of secret."

"Oh, that's okay," Pete assured her. "Let's see. Will you be needing the Jaz drive?"

"Definitely," Liz said, thinking of the disk she had used to get information from the observatory computer.

"Scanner?"

"Probably." To analyze those prints in more detail.

"Printer?"

"Oh, yes."

"Help carrying all of this junk?" Pete cracked a smile as he said that, and Liz laughed out loud.

"That would be above and beyond the call of friendship, but definitely appreciated," she admitted. "Oh, and did you get that planetary simulations program yet?"

"Haven't scraped up the cash," Pete admitted ruefully.

"That's okay," Liz assured him. "I'll borrow Caryn's copy."

"Okay. If you can take the Jaz and the scanner," Pete placed the small disk reader easily on top of the long flatbed, "I'll figure out some way to manage the computer and the printer."

After a few seconds of thought, Pete pulled out a small carrying case and loaded the folder-up laptop unit into it, along with plenty of stray cables. Holding the bag in one hand, he then proceeded to pick up the small bubble jet printer with both hands. "A question I should probably have asked earlier. Where are we taking all this stuff? Your room??"

"No, over to the Congreve tower," Liz said, taking Pete's keys and leading the way out of the room, carrying her share of the hardware. "I've got some friends there who can take it the rest of the way; I just didn't stop to count all the peripherals I'd be needing."

"The Congreve tower," Pete repeated. "That's one of the grad apartment buildings halfway across campus, isn't it?" Liz nodded apologetically. "Okay, come on, let's go," Pete groaned.

They carried their loads in silence for a while. "Say, Liz," Pete puffed as they turned onto the south path. "D'you remember that project I was telling you about? The atmospheric modeling one?"

"Oh, yeah," Liz replied after a pause for thought. "It sounded fascinating."

"Well, it looks like we're going to be finished next week easily, and I was wondering if maybe Saturday night next weekend I take you out to celebrate? Dinner at Lindsey's, maybe, then we could go down to the Blue note, have a few drinks, listen to good music."

"But why me?" Liz asked. "I'm not a part of your proj..." Then it hit her. "Dinner at my favorite restaurant, drinks at a dance club... Pete, would this be a date?" She looked over at Pete with a cautious smile that hopefully hid the confused feelings inside of her.

"A what??" Pete dead-panned. "Okay, here goes. Yes, Liz, I'm asking you out on a date." Pete paused, waiting for Liz to say something, but she couldn't, so he started speaking again, nervously. "We've known each other for two and a half years, Liz, ever since you scratched that pool ball into my beer the last day of Frosh week. We've dated other people, sure, but have you never thought of the two of us, together, that way?"

Liz gulped. "Well... yeah, occasionally, I have." In point of fact, Liz had had a huge crush on Pete half of freshman year, but never made a move on him, partly because it was too hard to keep track of when he was available and when he wasn't. (Plus, at that point he seemed to go for girls who were flashy and frankly not all that bright. Liz hadn't thought she could compete on that basis.)

Last October, feeling depressed on the anniversary of her first date with Randy Davis, Liz had decided that she was finally going to ask Pete out, only to find out that he had started dating her lab partner, Renee Williams, a relationship that lasted four months, during which time Liz had succeeded in putting her feelings for Pete out of her head. Now he was asking her on a date and...

"I... you're a great guy, Pete, and I really like you and I *don't* want to reject the idea of 'you and me' out of hand," she began.

"But?" Pete prompted. He had put down his computer things while they settled this, Liz noted, and she followed suit.

A mental picture of Max seemed right there with her. "But now isn't really a good time for me to decide something like this, okay? Maybe... maybe in a few days."

"Sure," Pete said, although his disappointment was obvious. "I'll come by when I get back to campus on Monday, okay?" He picked up the bag and the printer again.

Liz reached down for the scanner. "Oh, one other thing. I might not be around next week." Where had *that* come from? Well yeah, considering what Max had dragged her into, she might be chasing down a UFO sometime in the next little while. "So, if you can't find me, it's not because you scared me off; it's just this stuff I have to do, okay?"

"Got it," Pete muttered. They were approaching the Congreve tower, and Pete put his burden down outside the doors. "Is it alright if I go back to my room now and try to get back to sleep?"

Liz couldn't help but laugh at the way he put things, even now. "Sure Pete. Thanks for the loan, and for your help carrying." As an afterthought, she tossed Pete's key ring back to him.

Without saying a word Pete threaded a spare room key off the ring and tossed it back to her. "So you can put all my stuff back where you found it before you skip town, Parker."

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later, Liz opened the door to her own residence room. She didn't expect to spend a lot of time here over the next few days, what with the apartment Isabel got for the aliens becoming project lightning bolt central, and so there were a few things she wanted to pick up. First on the list were her textbooks and notes for planetary orbit dynamics, we she knew she'd be needing soon.

She had already visited Caryn Teslik and borrowed 'Pathways of the planets' for Windows ninety-five plus, which she'd need to plot courses on the computer, and she put the small software box down on her dresser while she took stock of her room.

Some clothes and hygiene necessities seemed to be called for. Liz emptied her knapsack, her mind still compiling a list of things she wanted to pack. She almost didn't notice the small folded-up piece of paper that was the last thing to be taken out of her bag, and curiously opened it up to see what it was. She recognized words out of order. 'Hold you in my arms.' 'Beloved,' 'Bride.' 'I love you.' What on earth? Oh, it was the message from Max's mother. She had totally forgotten to give it to him yesterday, or today for that matter.

She folded the paper away again and put it in her pocket. "Remember to give this to Max as *soon* as you get back to the apartment," she muttered. Then ready, get set, pack. Three sets of spare underwear, (just because you never could tell.) Pajamas, a few outfits that weren't too bulky and thus could serve as a change of clothes without taking up much room in the bag. All the books and notes she'd need, leave room for the program, yeah, it could go right there.

What else would she need? Suddenly Liz's melancholy feelings about Max, and Tess, and Pete, became unstoppable. She grabbed a bunch of CD's that she knew had sad songs on them, a bag of chocolate covered cream balls, and the bottle that she'd been keeping in the lockbox in her closet.

When Liz got back to Isabel's apartment, she could hardly have imagined a less likely scene to meet her eyes. Some sort of modern pop/rock was playing on the stereo, sung by a rich-throated alto and a sensual baritone. Michael and Isabel were... well, dancing suggestively in each other's arms, out on the living room floor.

Two of the others were dancing too, including the one woman among the 'others,' but in a very different fashion, adapting a modified ballroom style to the music. Max and Tess were sitting nestled together on the couch, each with an arm around the other's shoulders, their other hands clasped together, and playing a little footsie. (Liz fought down a sudden urge to throw up.)

And the last two aliens in the apartment had started up Pete's laptop, (apparently without connecting the power cord, so it would be draining the battery,) and were playing one of Pete's video games.

Michael swung himself and Iz around, and noticed Liz, standing slack-jawed in the doorway, the heavy knapsack now hanging from one of her arms. "Hey, cool," he exulted, letting go of Isabel. "Liz! Whatcha bring this time, Liz? Did you get food?" He hurried over to grab at Liz's bag.

Liz tried to keep the knapsack from him, wary of Michael's suddenly-too-friendly behaviour, but he already had ahold of it and Liz knew that he was stronger than she was. "No," she announced loudly. "I didn't get food. If you're hungry, there's a student grocery next to the union building, or about a dozen different take-out places on campus. Go for yourself."

"Oh, I don't wanna have to go myself," Michael complained. He set Liz's bag down on a chair and opened it up. "Hey! Booze!! Whooda figured you for a drinker, Liz? I always wanted to try this stuff. Hmm..." He peered at the label. "'White rum.'"

"Oh, no you don't," Liz shot back. "I've seen what even a little alcohol does to alien metabolism."

"Why are you so sure, Liz?" Isabel broke in, stepping up to her. "Well, you always act so sure of yourself, unless you're being poor pathetic pitiful Liz who can't even decide what she wants for breakfast. But think about it. Yes, Max drank a sip of Kyle Valenti's bourbon on Valentine's day and acted tipsy all night until you kissed him. Does that really sound physhio... metabolic to you? Sometimes aliens have very suggestible psychologies."

"Well, I'm still not going to give it a cance to happen again," Liz asserted. "For on thing, just the thought of putting you all back to rights..."

"And what made you think you'd be called on to do that, Liz?" Tess called from the couch. "I mean, I don't begrudge you and my husband you Valentine's day... neither of you even knew about me yet then. But if you think I'm about to let you do *this* to Max again..." and Tess brought her lips to Max's in a passionate kiss that made it impossible to complete her sentence - not that Liz really needed any further elaboration.

"Whoo, jackpot!" Michael exclaimed. He had been digging in Liz's knapsack again and brought out one of her bras. "Think she was hoping to model this little number for Max, Iz??" He held the undergarment up, stretching it between his fingers. Isabel broke out laughing.

"That is *ENOUGH*!" Liz screamed, snapping. In two paces she stepped over to Michael, wrestled the bra away from him and stashed both it and the rum back into her bag, now guarding it carefully. Suddenly everything that had been bothering her about the aliens fell into place. "You don't need rum - you're all drunk already!!"

"Am not," Michael argued back. "It's just ihibitions, babe. You've got to let go of your inhibitions sometime, Liz honey. Or they'll build up inside you and you'll burst."

"I don't think so," Liz said stiffly.

"Whatever." Michael shrugged. "It's your funeral. Now hand over that bottle like a good girl."

"Not a chance," Liz repeated. Michael stared to get very angry.

"You *cannot* deny me this," he said ominously, his eyes staring coldly back at her.

"The hell I can't!" Inside, Liz was shaking, remembering Michael's power, remembering how he had killed Agent Pierce. But something in her just wouldn't let her give in to this kind of bullying. Well, at least not until Michael's threats started getting a lot more specific.

"A clarification," Max said aloud from the couch. Liz realized absently that it was the first time he had spoken since she had come back to the apartment, and also that obviously his french kiss with Tess was over, for now at least. "There is a tradition among our people of wild celebrations following a victory. Nothing can be denied during such a period, as long as the household is safe, and short of violence to one's fellows. We have embraced this custom, and it's served us well through the hardships we've been through."

Max turned to stare at Michael. "But Liz is not one of us, and holding her to our ways is quite simply unfair. She can refuse any of our requests, without giving offense." He stopped with a small nod, and Liz couldn't escape the feeling of just having witnessed a Royal Decree.

No-one was saying anything now, all of the other aliens looking back and forth between herself and Max, and Liz guessed that it was her turn to say something. "Well, I don't want to disrupt you celebrations," she muttered, and forced herself to speak more clearly. "But I came here to work. If I can have the computer, some slightly less pounding music and a peaceful environment, I'll get to work simulating the Lightning bolt and Earth in their respective orbits. Otherwise, I'll just go, catch up on the sleep I missed last night, and come back later."

As she finished talking, Liz wondered if she was being as much of a royal stick-in-the-mud as she sounded. She could do with a party and letting off some steam as much as anybody. But if gettin' down with the aliens meant having to watch while Max and Tess got all coupley...

The guy whose turn it was at the computer game clicked the quit button, and shot Michael a meaningful glance, angling his head at the stereo. Michael nodded a reluctant agreement. "Sure," the guy said out loud, getting up from his seat, leaving his chair out in an invitation for Liz, and went over to the stereo to turn the CD off and find a radio station playing soft, peaceful music. His partner also got up from in front of the computer and started hooking up the peripherals.

"Come on, gorgeous," Michael said in a soft but audible voice to Isabel. "Let's take this party further inside." Iz nodded, and soon they disappeared to one of the bedrooms.

Well, it looked like that was that. Liz took her backpack over to the computer and fumbled out the CD for Caryn's program to install it.

* * * * *

"Attention ladies and gentlemen , we are now pulling in for our scheduled stopover in Palm Springs, Califonia. As we will not be taking a layover at this destination, please prepare to disembark now for Palm Springs."

The voice of the Greyhound driver shook Alex out of warm and comfortable dreams. He had had to rush feverishly to get out of a few sticky commitments, pack, and get down to Sunnyvale in time to catch this bus. No, not actually this bus, but the one that had taken him down from the greater San Fransisco area to Los Angeles, where he had transferred to this bus.

He was tempted to get off here at Palm Springs. The party capital of California, they called it, and that was saying a mouthful. He could lie in the warm desert sun nex to a pool somewhere and dream about Isabel Evans, instead of horribly complicating his life by actually going to Arizona to see her again.

By the time Alex had worked this all out, the bus was stopping. Moment of decision. Either get up and make enough noise about getting your stuff and getting off that the bus driver will wait for you, or he'll make your decision for you, Whitman.

The bus driver made Alex's decision for him.

"In fifteen minutes we will be taking a short layover in Indio, followed by a longer break in Blythe and stopovers in Quartzsite, Arizona and Tolleson. Then we will be pulling into Phoenix at twenty minutes to five this afternoon, and departing the Phoenix bus station at five thirty, bound for the Phoenix airport and Tempe, the home of the Arizona State Sun devils."

Maybe he'd get off in Phoenix. None of the other stops seemed at all interesting to Alex.

* * * * *

Liz considered a moment, then selected the Simulation: Anmate menu choice. The computer's screen cleared, and one by one various astronomical elements were added to its display: the earth, the sun, the moon, mars, venus, jupiter, the asteroid belt, (a few of the largest asteroids were simulated individually, but othewise the belt was just marked as a wide grey zone of space.)

Finally, the last element of her preliminary simulation appeared: a small, white planetoid out beyond the belt. Out of all the objects available within the program, Liz had decided that this was the least inappropriate to use for the lightning bolt. (There simply weren't any planet-size nebula available, which Liz could understand, but it was frustrating.)

By now, all of Liz's planets and other objects were flying slowly through space, and she could move the point of view around to see an optical illusion of a three-dimensional perspective from any point she chose. Satisfied, she escaped the simulation, made sure that all of her environment was saved on the disk, and quit.

"Finally decided you need a break?" The voice was familiar, and looking around her, Liz found the source. Max was leaning back in an armchair half behind where she had been sitting and working at the computer, calmly watching her.

"Is the celebration all done?" she asked him evenly.

"For me?" Max clarified. "Pretty much. It's up to the individual how long they want to take it. Michael and Isabel are still in the 'private celebrations' phase."

Okay. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Hmmm... about fifteen minutes, to hazard a guess. Long enough to make that thing do some very interesting things that I don't understand."

"Oh, it's really nothing so far," Liz disclaimed. "The program came with instructions and incredibly detailed data for simulatng the well-known bodies of our solar system; pretty much all I had to do was pick and choose. Small objects like Mercury and the moons of Mars and Jupiter won't affect what we're trying to do and eat up run time, so I left them out."

"Okay..." Max said somewhat uncertainly.

"Then I went through the observed co-ordinates of the Lightning bolt and added a corresponding object into the environment. There's not much more I can do here without help from you out-of-towners. Oh, by the way, the most exciting thing isn't on the computer at all."

Max's face quirked with intrigue. "Where is it, then?"

"Here." Liz brought out one of the magnified prints Michael had taken out of the observatory. Against the brightly shining fuzziness of the Oddity, a dark splotch could be seen.

"I imagine the spot is why Michael picked this print," Liz said, "and if so his instincts are right on the money. As far as I can tell, this object, whatever it is, came right out of the middle of the Bolt when it was at its largest."

"The capsule," Max breathed.

"Probably," Liz agreed. "Which means we have the time of its emergence if we take the moment this picture was taken and subtract the lightspeed differential to these co-ordinates." Liz sighed. "The problem is, we only have this one picture, so we have no idea what the object's course or speed was. To find it, I'm going to need to know an awful lot more about the kind of space travel your people do."

Max was shaking his head and smiling. "You're really in your element here, aren't you?" he observed. "Well, I know next to nothing about space travel, but Bentor should be able to help you out." He stood up. "Do you want me to see if he's awake?"

"Huh?" Liz thought about that for a second. "No, I really could do with a break, come to think of it. Go out for some lunch..." Liz looked at her wrist, but her watch wasn't there, so she picked it up from where she had put it down next to the computer and looked at it. "Or brunch, or whatever." Ask to come with me, ask to come with me, ask to come with me, she thought silently, (and guiltily,) at Max.

"Sounds great," Max observed casually. "Mind if I tag along?"

"It'll be a burden, but I'll survive," Liz assured him with a straight face.

As they headed through the apartment, Liz became uncomfortably aware of groaning coming from the room that Isabel and Michael had disappeared into. She remembered what Max had said about them having a 'private party.' Suddenly Isabel's voice could be heard: "Give it to me harder, you horny alien bastard!"

Max and Liz shuddered in unison, and a burst of laughter escaped Liz.

Max opened the apartment door to make their escape, but it was not to be. "Sir? 'Max'??" It was one of the 'others,' the woman. "Could I speak with you - privately, sir?"

"I'm sorry," Max told Liz. "This shouldn't take any more than..." He trailed off, realizing that she hadn't really given him enough information to guess how long it would take. "Ardra?"

"Five minutes?" she hazarded. "Ten??"

"Go on," Liz told Max, feeling very uneasy. Who could tell whether, after Ardra was finished speaking with Max, Tess would be around and demanding his attention again?

You don't have any right to bitch about that, Liz told herself fiercely. She's his wife, and he's accepted that because of what *you* did five years ago. For the good of the world.

She has a right to his attention. If she takes it, just go off to brunch alone. But Liz couldn't bring herself to do that just yet, so she settled back down to the computer, pulled up and tried her hardest to ignore the sounds of the Michael and Isabel show.

She did pretty well with that, except for a series of climactic cries that at least hinted the whole thing might be over. Liz wasn't sure how long after that it was that Michael came into the living room, wearing only a towel, and called her name.

"Uh, yeah?" She tried to avoid letting her gaze slip below the neck.

"There's a liquor store on campus, right?"

Liz got up from the computer again, shaking her head. "Nope. The bars won't let one in because it brings their business down. You have to go down to Laurel Street." She walked over to her knapsack, pulled out the rum, and held it out to him. "Try some out, or don't, I don't really care. But don't mess up Pete's computer, and don't even *touch* any of the rest of my stuff. Clear!?"

Michael swallowed slightly and nodded. "Clear." He took the bottle and left, leavig Liz with a clear view of Max smiling at her.

"What?"

"Just glad you stood up to him. Let's go."

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To be continued...