Part 2

He could see how worried she was; it was written all over her face. But there wasn't shit he could do about it right now. There definitely wasn't anything he could do to help her with her bio test – that she could handle on her brilliant fuckin' own…..but that wasn't the real issue anyhow.

Standing in the deepening shadows outside the library window he watched as she pored through the books surrounding her, practically engulfing her spot at the old, wooden table. Periodically she would raise her hands to her temples and rub furiously, shaking her head with nervous energy, getting up every once in awhile to pace a bit through the stacks before plopping herself back down in her chair.

It wasn't just the test that was getting her. That was for sure.

Zan rifled through the pockets of his faded black Carhart work pants, uncovering several empty packets of matches enscripted with names like "Samantha" and "Desiree" as well as some clumps of lint before he got to his tobacco pouch. He had to take his eyes off her in order to pull out a rolling paper and some shag but he soon latched his gold-flecked eyes back on her petite frame as he deftly rolled the cigarette between his thumb and fingers. His hands were large and rough, still stained with grease from when he was workin' on his bike that afternoon. He licked his lips before trailing his tongue along the edge of the cig to seal it. When he struck the match the quick flash of light brought his handsome features into sharp relief before his face was again subsumed into the comforting darkness of the autumn night. Zan squinted as he took the first drag, inhaling deeply.

She didn't really need his help that much anyway, he thought to himself. Especially if she would just use all that power seething within her. Zan was persistently confused by the way that Liz denied her own abilities, kept them buried deep inside. He wasn't even sure if she knew what was there.

But a promise was a promise and a dude's only as good as his word or mind connect or whatever. Zan never did lay eyes on his dupe but the day Max died had rocked his whole friggin' world forever.

He'd been nursing the emotional wounds of Lonnie and Rath's betrayal in the only way he knew how – closing off and kicking ass - walking the streets alone at night, keeping to the shadows, looking for an excuse for a good fight. It wasn't too hard to find somebody doing someone else wrong and then he could justify his need to squeeze his anger out somehow. No matter what – he wouldn't let himself stoop to the level of his betrayers. He needed it raw but at least he could find a way to help somebody out every once in awhile as well. But he always left before anyone knew what had happened. With his daily uniform of all black and his alien powers combined, it was easy to dissolve into the night.

He'd been searching for a purpose and Max's "final transmission" had given him one whether he was prepared for it or not. As long as he could remember, snippets of Max's dreams had filtered into his mind while he slept. They were just whispers really, tastes of another man's life. But the moment that Max died, Zan's brain had been flooded – and now it was as is if he was wearing the imprint of someone else's life. They weren't the same – he could feel that – but the connection was strong. Now he carried all of Max's memories within him and more…..

Somehow when Max died, his soul or whatever had let out a cosmic scream – not for his own death but for those that he was leaving behind, for Liz and the child that would never know his father. It was a call that only Zan heard – wordless but with great meaning. All he knew was that from that moment on he had felt the drive, the compulsion to watch over Liz and little Max. He'd fought it at first – who the hell were they to him anyways?

But he couldn't stop. And eventually what had begun as a labor of honor to a brother (?) he'd never met had turned into…something else.

But he never let Liz know that he was watching. Never let her see him. He wasn't totally sure why. Rationally, he said that that it was because it would have hurt and confused the fuck out of her but there was more to it than that and deep inside he knew that that was true.

"Women like that don't get down with dudes like me."

She wasn't like the other women that he knew but then he was sure that she wasn't like any other woman in the world.

The way that her whole face lit up when she smiled made him crazy. Made him feel electrified and out of control. Which was just not a fucking option. Being in control of his world, his destiny was his fuckin' bread and butter. He had vowed to himself never again to let anything get him to loosen his grip on himself – not myths or pipe dreams about alien friggin' royalty, not assholes like Rath and Lonnie, and certainly not this walking daydream of a brunette beauty across the glass from him inside the library.

But he watched over her all the same……..

For awhile he hadn't talked to anyone, just kept completely to himself except when he was prowling the streets vigilante-style or bumping up against random girlies at night.

But then Ava had found him again and so shit was somewhat different now. They lived together in an old converted warehouse. It was kinda run down and bizarre but the rent was cheap and they always managed to come up with the cash between Zan's part-time work fixin' bikes and cars at the garage down the street and Ava's more lucrative work at a local strip joint.

Stripping gave Ava a way to make maximum cash in relatively short hours so she had lots of time to play with her various boy toys and make weird art at all hours of the night. Sometimes she would cruise with Zan and fight the good fight (girl was little but tough) but he still went out by himself the majority of the time.

So now he wasn't completely alone and in spite of himself, he knew it was probably better that way. According to Ava, no matter how fuckin' tough you are you still gotta at least share some air with other peeps once in awhile.

And she understood and didn't try and make him talk too much, which was good. He could trust her and things were so much better now that they didn't even pretend to be lovers anymore. Back when they used to fuck and there was this whole previous life alien king and queen mumbo jumbo in the air, everything was a whole lot weirder. He wasn't sorry or anything. They'd had some times and they both had learned a lot about how to maneuver another person's body to make it feel alright… but it just didn't make sense to pretend that it was ever gonna be something that it wasn't.

"Fuck destiny!" Zan thought to himself as he stubbed out his smoke with the heel of his worn steel-toed boot, grabbed his helmet and got ready to take off. He gave one long last lingering look at Liz. "See ya later Princess," he mumbled to himself as he pulled the shiny, black motorcycle helmet over his dark, spiky hair, pulling the strap underneath his goatee.

Zan knew that the boy's powers had begun to awaken – he could feel it somehow. But there was nothing he could do about this one without revealing himself. He needed more time to case the situation. Shit, what would happen if she knew?

Liz yawned and stretched her arms over her head. How many hours had she been in this place anyway? Her eyelids were getting heavy in spite of her best intentions and she was beginning to think that it was time to go home. She was pretty sure that she had crammed as much into her brain as was going to fit at this juncture. Plus she needed to get home to take little Max off of Isabel's hands.

Thank god for Izzie. I never would have been able to make it through without her, Liz thought. She really was blessed with some awesome friends. Maria and Michael, even though they had stayed in Roswell, came to visit pretty often and were constantly writing and calling – or Maria was anyway, but Michael always scribbled a note at the end or waited patiently for Maria stop yammering before he got on the line to say hello. They were really busy running the bar/music lounge they'd opened up together, not to mention the amount of energy it must take out of them to love each other so hard while also bickering all the time, Liz mused wryly. But they made time. And Kyle was just a couple hours away in Boston. I'm gonna call 'Ria tomorrow, Liz thought. She's my oldest friend and she loves nothing better than to give advice. Maybe she can help me figure out what to do about Maxie.

Liz was drawn out of her thoughts by the feeling of prickles going up the nape of her neck. This happened from time to time and she couldn't explain it but she could swear that someone was watching her. God, I'm getting paranoid, she thought to herself. Too many years being all mixed up with aliens.

Zan zipped up his beaten up leather over his black hooded sweatshirt and took off running. His movements were swift and agile, like a panther. Blending in was his specialty. In no time, he got to his bike and hopped on. She was a beautiful machine and the only material object that he really gave a shit about. Black to match, 2003 Suzuki Bandit – kind of a crotch rocket but a dude's gotta get places fast, ya know? He revved up the engine and they were off, tearing through the deserted New York streets, making distance between him and the woman he couldn't help fantasizing about……no matter how hard he tried to stop.