Disclaimer: Roswell, and its characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. If I was lucky enough to own them, you just know the show would still be on the air, and you be watching that instead of reading this.

Rating: PG-13 to R for inappropriate language and some violence.

Winds of Change

Chapter Four – Logic vs. Intuition

Liz Parker sat in biology nervously drumming her pencil on the table while the teacher droned on about genetics and species. Usually, she was utterly focused during biology, but the past few days had been anything but typical.

The dream from the night before stayed with Liz like no other dream had before. She kept touching her stomach, expecting to find something, anything there, but there never was. She listened with half an ear while the teacher explained the instructions for the experiment. She doodled in her notebook while her mind went over the dream again, detail by detail.

it has to be a dream, she thought. So many things had a dreamlike quality. Liz flipped to a clean page in her notebook and began to list the items that made her positive that her dream was just a dream.

1. Voices sounding far away.
2. Time speeding up and slowing down.
3. Plates of food getting heavy.

When her list was completed, she methodically began to work on a list of things that made her question the dream.

1. Feeling the bullet slam into her.
2. The connection she felt when Max healed her.
3. The feeling that it was so real.

The bell rang, shaking Liz from her musings. She looked around with chagrin, realizing that she hadn't accomplished a single step in the experiment during the entire class.

"Problems today, Miss Parker?" the teacher asked, standing beside her table.

Liz hastily tore the piece of paper out of her notebook and stuffed it into her book.

"Just tired, I guess," said Liz. "I didn't sleep well last night."

"Nightmares about what happened in the CrashDown?" the teacher asked, her voice sympathetic.

"Yeah, kind of," said Liz. "I'm sorry, I didn't really get anything done today."

"That's okay," said the teacher, "You can make it up this afternoon, I have a couple of other students coming to do some make up work."

"Thanks," Liz said, ruefully. She'd never had to stay after school for anything.

She grabbed her books and exited the classroom, joining the students that streamed through the halls of West Roswell High. She made her way to her locker and stowed her biology book in side and grabbed her math books. She slammed the locker door shut and started down the hall. She paused by a trashcan and reached into her pocket and pulled out the list she had been working on. She gave it one last look and crumpled it up in a ball and tossed it toward the opening of the receptacle, not knowing or caring if it went in or not. She continued on her way to class, unaware of the person who scooped up the crumpled piece of paper from the floor.

Liz sat at her regular seat in the biology classroom and laid out all the necessary components for the experiment she had failed to complete earlier. Behind her the teacher reviewed the concepts of genus and phylum to a group of students. There was a break in the conversation behind her, and Liz turned to see Max Evans standing in the doorway.

"Hello, Mr. Evans, nice of you to join us," said the teacher. "Why don't you take a seat next to Miss Parker, and the two of you can get to work."

Liz tried to control the emotions that welled up inside of her at the sight of Max Evans, but it was impossible. She found herself staring at him, drowning in his soulful brown eyes. Every nuance of her dream rushed through her mind, and again she could feel Max's hand on her abdomen. She felt the energy course through her body healing her wound. She stared into his eyes and felt the connection strengthen between them.

"Liz, are you okay?" Max asked, putting his books on the table beside her. He stuck his pencil in his mouth and began to flip through his notebook to find a blank sheet.

Wha- oh, I'm fine," she said, startled out of her reverie. She looked down at her notebook, trying to still the rush of color that flooded her cheeks.

"Should we get to work, then?" Max asked, placing the pencil on the table in front of him.

"Okay," said Liz, pleased to have something other than Max's eyes to focus on. She passed a swab and a toothpick to Max. "I need a sample of cells from the inside of your cheek so we can compare them to the vegetable cells Ms. Hardy gave us."

Max's face paled, and he cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Ms. Hardy," he called, raising his hand. "I'm not feeling very well," he said. "Would you mind if I made this lab up tomorrow?"

"You are high maintenance today, Mr. Evans, aren't you?" said the teacher with a sigh. "Very well, you're excused. Liz, just continue on by your self, please."

Liz nodded, blinking back the tears that rushed to her eyes. Obviously, this, more than anything else proved that her dream was just that, a dream. Max Evans didn't share a connection with her. He could barely stand to be in the same room as her. With a sigh, she picked up the toothpick and scraped some cells off of the inside of her cheek. She placed them on the slide in front of her and prepared to slip the slide under the microscope. She spied Max's pencil on the table and an idea began to form in her mind.

Liz reached for the pencil, and used the cotton swab to obtain a sample of Max's saliva. She was about to slip it under the microscope when she felt something collide with her arm.

"Sorry 'bout that," a voice said.

Liz looked up to see Max's friend, Michael Guerin staring down at her.

"Yes Mr. Guerin, can I help you with something?" said Ms. Hardy. "Are you interested in actually participating for a change?"

"No, not really, I just needed to talk to Liz for a second," said Michael, dismissing the teacher with a wave of his hand. "So, I was wondering, do you want to go to a movie or something?"