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 Thirteen – Distortion

Nicholas leaned against the wall, behind the dumpster, winded from his exertions. This was not something he had counted on. He knew he needed to keep that imbecile Zan away from that slut, but he hadn't counted on Rath forming any attachments on this god-forsaken planet.

"Rath, of all people," he said between breaths. "He couldn't bond with a goldfish back on Antar, and he falls in love here? I wasn't counting on that."

His breathing had slowed enough to allow him to push himself off the wall, and start walking down the street.

"How am I going to do this?" he asked himself. "Do I need to keep all of them apart, or are just Zan and Liz the key?"

"Did you just see that?" Michael asked Maria.

"See what?" asked Maria, still dazed by Michael's kiss.

"There was somebody in here just now," Michael responded, still looking around. He shook his head slightly

"Hey Michael, how's that burger, oh, sorry," said Liz, poking her head through the pick up window. "I, uh, didn't mean to disturb you."

"Liz, no wait," Maria called. "This isn't what it looks like. Will you let go of me," she hissed under her breath at Michael who still had his hand on her shoulder.

"Uh, yeah, right," said Liz. "No problem. I was just checking on my burger.

"Did you feel that earthquake?" Maria asked, smoothing down her hair, and trying to catch her breath. She'd been kissed before, but never with such intensity. She didn't think Michael Guerin was capable of showing any type of emotion, least of all, passion.

"What earthquake?" asked Liz, picking up the plate Michael passed through the window. "There wasn't any earthquake."

"You cannot tell me you didn't just feel that?" Maria asked. She glared at Michael one last time and exited the kitchen to go stand beside Liz. "It felt like the entire building was shaking."

"Maybe it was just Michael making the Earth move for you," joked Liz.

"Do not even go there, Liz," Maria said, darkly. "That was an aberration, that's all.

"I don't think so," said Liz, looking towards the kitchen.

Maria turned and followed Liz's glance and saw Michael standing there watching her intently, only instead of the usual hate she saw in his face, this time, she saw confusion and passion.

"No, no, no," said Maria, shaking her head vehemently. "I so do not think so. Mr. Stone Face over there does not have the hots for me. Is that clear?"

Maria stalked away to seat some new customers, while Liz filled a drink order and laughed silently to herself. The concept of Maria together with Michael was not as weird as she would have thought; in fact she found the idea to be oddly reassuring.

Liz hefted the tray of drinks and crossed the floor to deliver them to the waiting customers. As she walked, she got an eerie feeling that someone was watching her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she slowly turned around, trying to locate the cause of her unease. Unable to do so, she quickly dispensed the beverages and returned to the kitchen. For some reason, the urge to confide her suspicions to Michael was very strong.

"What?" Michael asked, staring at her.

"I, uh, I, oh never mind," Liz said. She started to turn away, but Michael reached out a restraining hand and stopped her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing, really," Liz said. "I just feel like someone's watching me. It's weird, I know but I just can't shake it. Never mind," she said abruptly. "Forget I said anything. I don't know what I'm talking about."

She jerked away from Michael and went back out to the café. She worked steadily for the next several hours, forcing down her feelings of unease all the while. When the dinner rush ended, she grabbed a soda and retreated to the employee lounge to try and make some sense of the insanity that had become her world.

Things seem to be spiraling out of control. She wrote in her journal. I don't know what's real anymore. Max Evans fills both my waking thoughts and my dreams, but I don't know why. And then there is continual feeling of unease. I'm starting to wonder if I'm suffering from some type of paranoid delusion. Nobody is watching me. Why would they? I'm Liz Parker; plain ordinary Liz Parker. And yet, there is something. I'm not sure what. Some fleeting, tantalizing memory, dancing on the fringes of my mind, I can almost reach out and grab it, but when I try, and dances out of reach yet again, taunting me. It's driving me crazy.

I am not a paranoid person. I don't feel like the world is out to get me, or everyone is against me, but I can't shake the feeling that someone IS watching me. I can't talk to Maria about it, she has her own issues to cope with. Michael Guerin is working at the café now, and she is less than pleased about it.

Maybe the best thing I can do is put the whole thing out of my mind and just stay away from Max Evans. I can't help but feel that all of this comes back to him somehow. I don't know how, but I'm almost certain of it.

Liz looked at the clock, sighed and slipped her pen into her journal. She stuffed the journal back into her backpack and slid it into her locker. She walked out into the kitchen and grabbed a rack of clean glasses from the dishwasher as her mind continued to race. Usually when she wrote in her journal, she felt freed from the problems that plagued her, but not today. Confused thoughts still whirled around in her mind like some out of control carnival ride.

The rack in her hands began to rattle dangerously as images from a carnival filled her mind. She could hear the sound of calliope music floating on the air, mingling with the cheerful screams of children on the various rides.

"Hey, Liz, are you all right?" a voice behind her said.

Liz turned and looked at the speaker and the rack of glasses fell from her hands. The glasses shattered, sprinkling shards of broken glass all around her.

"Alex," she whispered, bringing her hand to her mouth. "You're dead."