Author: Katydidit aka PolarEmeralds aka Kat
Email: NobodysFool2507yahoo.com
Rating: PG, for a bit of language and implied violence.
Genre:Drama/Angst
Category: AU. Pre-shooting. Just a tad Polar, but absolutely nothing that would cause an uprising of Dreamer/Candy Fans. ('Cept...getting Polarer by the minute, lmao)
Disclaimer: They're mine! All mine! demented laughter Ooor not. They're Jason Katims and Co.'s. Evil demons. They should be vanquished. blissful grin Ahhh, if only.... cough Move along, folks. No evil plotting to see here. g
Summary: A not-so-short AU fic. Thirteen-year-old Michael is out one night, trying to escape Hank's fury for a while, when he stumbles across someone he hadn't expected to see and realizes that things aren't always what they seem.
Spoilers: Guys, the show's over. If you haven't seen an ep, you're not gonna. Lol. I don't think there's any, though.
A/N: ...I'm out of witty things to say right now... Have fun.
Things Aren't Always What They Seem
Chapter 7 (?)
When he woke up later that day, Michael was first aware that the sun was halfway down the sky, and then that he was holding something. It could have been his pillow, except his pillow didn't smell like...rain. He opened his eyes.
Liz was laying there, her body curled to match his. Something ran down his spine, and he shivered a little. But...what was it about seeing her like that that just looked...right? Stop it, Michael. First off, you're thirteen years old. Second, she's going to end up with Max. He didn't know how he knew this-he just did. It was like a weight in his stomach. Sheesh. What was this all about? He should get up-make sure Hank was either passed out or not home. So why wasn't he moving? He moved his arm from around her middle to pull a strand of her hair behind her ear, telling himself that he didn't mean to trail his finger along her milky skin. Yeah...that was it. It was an accident. Liz stretched, arching her back against him and sighed.
"Good morning?" he asked quietly, seeing if she was awake. Liz turned onto her other side, so she was facing him.
"Try good afternoon," she replied softly, her voice sweetly raspy with sleep.
"Whichever." He grinned. She rolled her eyes, and he sat up, suddenly glaringly aware of the fact that he had a girl in his bed. She followed suit, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them, regarding him sleepily. "Sorry my bed isn't real comfortable...might as well sleep on the ground."
"I was perfectly fine," Liz said. What was that light behind her smile?
"Well, fine."
"Fine." She was quiet, and then laughed.
"What?
"I'm just thinking about how wigged Alex is going to be. I didn't call him last night...I wasn't in school today. His hair's probably turning white."
Michael laughed. "He just wants to keep you around a few more years."
"I think he just wants me around now so he has an excuse to be around Isabel."
"Then I wasn't the only one who saw that."
"Saw...what?"
"That he likes her." Liz stared at him in disbelief, until he got self- conscious. "What?"
"You're a guy."
"Am I?" He made a face.
"You are. You're not supposed to notice things like that. You're supposed to be clueless."
"Oh. My bad. Would you rather I was a drooling idiot?" Liz laughed. "Seriously, though, Alex loves you." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh, come on. Not that way. Sheesh."
She grinned "I know. I was kidding."
"You didn't say a word. How could you have been doing anything?"
"I got you all defensive, didn't I?"
"I do not get defensive."
"Whatever." Liz looked over at his alarm clock. "I should go home."
"Why?"
"To go to work. To get something to eat. I'm starving."
"We have beer in the fridge."
"I cannot believe you just offered alcohol to a minor."
"I'm a minor, too."
"You don't drink it, do you?"
"What-beer?"
She nodded, eyes dark as she looked at him.
"No. It's nasty. Anyway, I've seen what it does to Hank-I'd rather not act like that, thanks."
"Good."
"Why-did you think I drank it?"
"It's in there...you never know."
Michael rolled his eyes. There was a familiar banging sound, and Michael leapt off his bed.
"What's that?" Liz hissed.
"That's Hank. Get in the closet."
"Why?"
"Just do it!" He pushed her towards the tiny closet, just as Hank slammed the bedroom door open.
"Why weren't you in school today, you worthless little punk? The school called me today-woke me up. Where the hell were you?"
"I was in school."
"Don't you fucking lie to me! You skip school, they take you away."
Michael wanted to calmly point out that Hank didn't give a hairy rodent's butt about him-it was the check-but he chose not to.
"I was in school, Hank. It must have been a problem with the computer."
"You'd better have been," Hank muttered. "Who the hell were you talking to?"
"No one."
"I heard you talking."
"I wasn't."
"You useless snotrag-I heard you."
"I was talking to myself."
"The hell were you doing that for? What the hell could you have to say that could possibly be that interesting?"
Michael was silent. Wrong answer. A beefy hand shot out, knocking Michael against the bed.
"You fucking answer me when I ask you a question."
"Nothing."
"'S what I thought. I'm gonna take a nap. Don't wake me up. And stop talking to yourself, dumbass."
He stomped out, slamming the door shut and dropping onto the couch-Michael heard the couch protest loudly. He waited until he heard Hank's snores before he opened the closet. Liz was cowering in the back corner.
"Does he always talk to you like that?" she whispered, horrified. Michael shifted. She wasn't supposed to look at him like that.
"He's usually too boozed up to talk. Anyway, you can't say anything. Look at your dad."
"He doesn't talk to me like that..."
"Forget it. Come on, let's get out of here, in case he wakes up."
She nodded, and they crept past him, heading to the Crashdown.
"Liz! You're okay!" Max flung himself at Liz, squeezing tightly. She winced, and he pulled away immediately, embarrassed. "Sorry."
"It's okay."
"Why didn't you call me last night?" demanded Alex, pulling her to him for a gentle hug.
"I forgot."
"Dumb girl," he teased softly, then kissed her cheek. "You're okay? He didn't-break anything?"
"You tell me." Liz guided his hand under her shirt, to her ribcage. Why was Michael jealous that Alex could touch her there and not hurt her? Alex sighed in relief.
"I don't think so. It's one of the worse, though."
So she'd lied to him last night, when she'd said it was no worse than usual. She looked over at him and shrugged.
"Where else did he get you?"
"He kind of...pushed me, and I hit my head on a table."
"You could have a concussion-you didn't go to sleep last night, did you?" Alex looked frantic. Liz laughed.
"No. Michael kept me awake."
Alex glanced over at him-maybe in gratitude, maybe in confusion. Michael shrugged, and his and Liz's stomachs rumbled quietly. They all laughed.
"If you'll excuse us, we haven't eaten all day," Liz said to Alex and Max, then grabbed Michael's wrist and led him to the counter. "Jose, can we have two burgers, please? And two Cherry Cokes?" She looked over at Michael. "And a bottle of Tabasco sauce?"
"Do you see me wearing one of those skirts?" Jose grumped good-naturedly.
"No, thank god."
"I'll make the burgers, but you get the rest, Missy."
Liz sighed and slid off the stool, grabbing two clean glasses. "Is Cherry Coke okay, or do you want something else?"
"Yeah-no. That's fine."
She grinned and set the glasses down, reaching under the counter for a bottle of Tabasco sauce. He grabbed it and poured a generous amount into his glass. Liz watched, eyes wide and nose wrinkled.
"I told you I liked it," Michael said after taking a swig. Liz said nothing- just shuddered. Michael got an evil idea. "Here. Try it." He held the glass out to her, eyes challenging. Her eyes met his, and they flashed. She raised her eyebrows and took the glass, drinking a bit out of it. She handed it to him.
"There. Now I can say that that is rancid."
"To each his own," Michael shrugged.
"Order up!" Jose said, plopping two plates in the window. "Hurry it up, Missy-you can take over for Goldilocks, who's gone AWOL."
"I'm not supposed to be working today," Liz pretended to whine.
"Yes you are, Miss Slacker," Jose whined right back. Liz giggled and handed Michael his plate.
"Okay, we need to work something out," Michael said quietly, after a while.
"Work what out?"
"Some sort of rules."
"For...?"
"Whatever this is. Our friendship, if that's what you want to call it..."
"Oh." Liz picked at her burger.
"First, no pity, on either side. It doesn't do anyone any good, and it's annoying."
Liz nodded.
"Second, no lying."
"What are you talking about?"
"You lied to me last night. If you lie, I can't help you. What if you hadn't passed out when you did, and went home, where you did pass out. You wouldn't have known what was going on, and you'd have gone to bed. Then where would you be?"
Liz sighed. "Fine."
"Fine." He made a face at her and finished his-technically, breakfast.
That night, Michael found himself tossing and turning in his bed. It must have been partly that he'd been asleep all day, but it seemed like his arms wanted something to wrap around. He sighed in disgust with himself and pushed his covers aside, getting out of bed. It didn't matter when he went to bed, anyway-it was Friday-tomorrow was Saturday; no school.
He quietly snuck out of the trailer and headed for the park. He paused at the gate-someone was swinging on the swingset. Watching her hair flash under the streetlight, watching her strong legs propel her up into the night sky, he knew who it was. Michael quietly headed in, and by the time Liz looked up, he was practically standing next to the swing. He saw her jump, and she dragged her feet in the dirt to slow down.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Couldn't sleep."
"It has nothing to do with the fact that we've been asleep all day, of course."
"Of course. Is your dad back yet?"
"Yeah. He got home a few hours ago."
"Where was he?"
"I don't know," she said, unconvincingly. He narrowed her eyes, and, perhaps remembering their agreement, she sighed.
"He was at the bar."
"Huh. That's interesting."
"That's one word for it."
He scoffed and stood behind her, pushing her higher in the swing. After a while, the sky went from black to dark gray, and Liz looked up, dragging her feet in the dirt.
"Oh, great!" she whispered excitedly.
"What?"
"Sunrise. I've always wanted to see one from stars to sunlight."
"Any reason?" He asked, sitting in a swing. She gave him a withering look.
"Just to have seen one. Are you telling me that you've never done anything just to have done it?"
"I kissed you, didn't I?" Why'd he say it? Why'd he say it? Why'd he say it? He mentally smacked his forehead and looked over at her. She was smiling and looking at her feet-and was that a hint of a blush tinting her cheeks?
"Didn't you do that to gross Maria out?"
Oh. Hm. "Partly." There was an awkward silence, which, for the first time in his life, Michael felt the need to break. "So," he laughed. "How was it?"
Liz laughed. "I don't have anything to compare it to."
"So I gave you your first kiss. Sweet," Michael gloated. She scooped up a handful of dirt and tossed it at him-but carefully aimed low to avoid getting it in his eyes, Michael noted.
"It doesn't count if you don't have forewarning," Liz said after a minute.
"You just made that up."
"Did not. It's in the rulebook."
"And where is this rulebook?"
"I can't tell you."
"Because it doesn't exist."
"No. Because if I tell you, they'll kick me out of the club."
"What club?"
"The girl's club, duh." She looked at him like he was an idiot, and he smirked.
"It doesn't exist."
She said nothing. What would she do if he kissed her again? Only one way to find out. He slid his swing over, fighting the chains so he was next to her. She looked up.
"Forewarning?" he said quietly, before putting his lips to her. He felt her mouth move in a reply for a second, then she smiled. He took his feet off the ground and, without anchors, the swing's chains flung him back to where it was supposed to go.
"I gave you your first kiss," he said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, biting her lip. "So how was it this time?"
"Marginally better. No audience." She was quickly turning red, so he just laughed and let it go. "We really have to stop doing this."
"Kissing?" he smirked at her again, and she turned a new shade of red.
"Staying up all night," she said levelly, even though her ears were beginning to look like Maxwell's could.
"Oh. So you don't want to stop kissing then?"
She sighed uncomfortably and looked away, rolling her eyes. "You're such a guy."
"Like you have anyone normal to compare me to."
"You're not normal, buster."
"True."
She laughed and slid off of the swing, laying carefully in the grass with her hand on her side. Michael looked at her for a few minutes, then turned his gaze to the sky, and they were quiet.
"That was interesting," Michael said about half an hour later, when all the colors had disappeared and the sun was in the sky.
"You ruined it," Liz accused.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be." She sat up, pretending to glare at him. He crossed his eyes at her, which wiped the scowl off her face, replacing it with giggles.
"I should go home," Liz said after a while, plucking a few leaves of grass but not standing up. Michael sat up.
"So go."
Liz sighed and stood. "See you later."
He watched her go, then stood and left as well.
Later that day, Michael dragged himself out of bed and over to the Evanses' house. Max answered the door in his soccer uniform.
"Michael! Thought you were dead. Come on in." He stepped back, and Michael entered.
"How was the game?"
Max looked confused, and then nodded. "We totally lost, man."
"You guys suck."
"Tell me about it. We should be called the Hoovers, not the Shooters."
"The...Hoovers."
"You know. The vacuum cleaner. Because we suck...? Dude."
Michael just looked at him. Max shook his head and headed into the kitchen. "Mom, Michael's going to be staying for lunch, okay?"
"Michael! I thought I heard you. Come here and tell me if this tastes funny." Mrs. Evans called.
"Um...Mine may not be the best palate to test food with, Mrs. Evans. I mean, considering..."
"Oh, hush. Just try it." She spooned some sort of stew into his mouth, and he started choking. She looked worried.
"How is it?"
"It's fine. Just...hot."
She nodded and turned back to the stove. "Hey, Max...Liz wasn't over the other night, was she?"
Max froze and shared a look with Michael. "...No. Why?"
"Just...thought I heard her voice the other night. And There was a long dark strand of hair on the couch today."
"...She did sleep there for almost a week, Mom," Max said uneasily.
"Yeah, on your pillow, honey. Not on the pillow we have out there." Max looked at Michael again, and this time Diane caught them. "Max."
"What, Mom?"
She sighed. "Nothing. Forget it." She was quiet for a minute. "Max."
"What?"
"If you knew Isabel was in trouble, would you do something about it?"
"Of course."
"Even if she told you not to?"
Silence filled the kitchen, and Max shifted uncomfortably. Finally Michael pushed Max away.
"Go change, man. You stink."
"I love you too, Michael," Max cracked, and left. Diane turned around, took a look at Michael, and then sighed and turned back around. Michael stood there, feeling weird, until Max returned.
"You know, Max, we're going out to the movies tonight-you're invited too, Michael-do you want to ask Liz if she wants to come?"
"Um-yeah. I'll ask her today."
"Good." Diane scooped some stew into some bowls.
"This is great, Mom," Max said, grabbing a bowl.
"Don't forget to ask Liz, Max," Diane said, sliding her purse over her shoulder. "I've gotta go shopping. We're out of milk."
"Gotta have the milk," Max said, raising his spoon in goodbye. She rolled her eyes and left.
"Do you think she knows?" Max asked, sitting at the table. Michael grabbed a bowl and joined him.
"Yeah. So does your dad."
"How do you know?"
"I've heard them talking about her."
"You've been spying on my parents?"
"No spying. Overhearing."
Max rolled his eyes, and they ate in silence. When they were finished, Max rinsed out their dishes and placed them in the sink. "Let's go ask her now," he said.
"Ask who what?"
"Ask Liz if she can come tonight."
"Oh. Probably should, huh?"
Max nodded and they went over to the Crashdown, where the last of the lunch crowd was filling a few seats. Liz was flipping through her order pad, apparently looking for something. Michael leaned over the counter.
"Boo!" He said quietly. Liz jumped and looked up.
"Hi. Hi, Max."
"Whatcha looking for?" Max asked, indicating the pad. Liz smiled sheepishly.
"My dad gave me a phone number earlier, and I stuck it in here, but I can't find it."
"Good one. Speaking of which. My mom and dad and Isabel and Michael and me are going to the movies tonight, and my mom told me to invite you. Do you think your dad would let you come?"
Liz thought. "Today's...Saturday? Um...probably. I'll go ask. Don't break into the cash register," she ordered with a mock-scowl, and then headed into the back room. After what seemed like a long time, Liz returned, making a frustrated face.
"What? He didn't say no?" Max asked worriedly. Liz rolled her eyes.
"He doesn't believe me. He wants me to get your phone number so he can call your parents and make sure its okay." She held out her pen, and Max took it, scrawling his phone number onto a napkin.
"Yeah, because you're such a liar, Liz," Michael said. She shrugged and disappeared again, returning a minute later.
"My mom found one of your hairs on the couch this morning," Max said. Liz looked confused.
"From...the night before last."
"Do you guys have a weird cleaning schedule, or...what?"
Max laughed. "I don't know. But she was asking me about it today."
Liz's eyes flashed. "What'd you tell her?"
"I told her I didn't know anything about it." Max shrugged. Liz dropped her gaze, looking regretful. "What's wrong?"
"I didn't mean to make you lie to your parents..." she said. Max took her hand-a surprising show of balls on his part. Liz looked up.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
Mr. Parker came to the doorway, and Michael felt a surge of power. He forced himself to calm down-it wasn't easy-and looked up.
"Elizabeth, tell your friends that they need to go home. We still have customers."
Liz nodded stiffly and made a face at them. "I guess I'll see you later," she said. They nodded and left.
Later that day, just as Michael was whipping Max's tail at video games, the telephone rang. Mrs. Evans answered it, and, from what Michael could hear, the person on the other end of the line was Liz's dad. He and Max shared a Look, and Diane came into the room.
"You guys, we're leaving in about half an hour, if you need to get ready or anything."
Michael made a big show of sniffing his armpits. "Nope. I'm good."
Max's mom rolled her eyes, and Max leapt up. "I'm not, though." He left, and Michael shook his head, switching the game over to one-player.
Finally everyone was ready, and they left to pick up Liz. She came out of the restaurant, followed by her father, who stood there with his hands on her shoulders.
"Thanks a lot, Phillip," he said, beaming. "For everything. I've got to run out to White Rock tonight, and I didn't want to leave her home alone all night."
"It's no problem," Phillip said, the words obviously forced.
"Right," Diane cut in, rubbing her husband's hands, which were clenched around the steering wheel. "We love having her."
"'Bye, Elizabeth," Mr. Parker said, and Liz got into the car, squeezing in between Max and Michael. They pulled away.
After the movie, all six of them went out for dinner, and then returned to the Evanses'.
"Ugh," Liz said, smelling her shirt. "I smell like cigarette smoke."
"Yeah...that restaurant might as well not have a non-smoking section," Diane said, kicking off her shoes. "You can get a shower, if you want. Isabel, show her how to work it."
"Okay. Come on, Liz," Isabel said, leading her towards the bathroom.
"So, Liz is staying here again?" Max asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Yeah. You heard-her dad's going up to White Rock."
"Cool... Come on, Michael. I demand a rematch at this." Max dug out the video game and the two of them plopped down on the couch, where Michael proceeded to beat the holy crap out of Max four times in a row. Just as Max's luck seemed to be turning, Liz entered the room, looking pale.
"Hey, Liz. Watch me beat him," Max said, not looking up. Michael paused the game.
"What's wrong?" he asked Liz.
"Max, where's your mom?" She asked quietly.
"She's in the kitchen, helping Is with her homework. Are you okay?"
"Yeah..." She headed into the kitchen. After a minute, the two of them came back through the room and disappeared. Isabel wandered into the living room, flouncing into a chair.
"Where'd Mom go?" Max asked, still beating Michael.
"In there, with Liz..." she said. "She said she'd be back in a little bit. Who's winning?"
"I am!" Max said triumphantly.
"For the first time today, you loser," Michael groused. Isabel laughed and watched them for a while. Mrs. Evans and Liz re-emerged, and Mrs. Evans gave Liz a hug.
"What happened?" Isabel asked, just a tiny twinge of jealously entering her voice.
"Just a little girl...thing," her mother answered with a wink. Liz turned red.
"That's so cool! I haven't started mine yet."
"Soon, honey," Mrs. Evans said. "Let's get back to your homework."
"Yay, Liz!" Isabel said, giving her a hug and returning to the kitchen. Liz sat in the chair Isabel had vacated, pulling her knees up to her chest and watching.
"Who's winning?" she asked. Max beat Michael with a flourish of his hand and tossed the controller onto the couch.
"I did. I beat him!" he sang, doing his own version of Isabel's victory dance. "Everyone must now bow down to the amazing greatness of the all- powerful Max Evans." He bowed deeply, and Michael chucked a pillow at him.
"The first time today," he repeated. "So what was that about, Liz?"
"What was what about?" she asked, turning pink.
"That whole thing. What happened?"
"Nothing you'd want to hear about." She grinned.
"Are you okay?" Max asked.
"I'm fine."
"Good."
She laughed and watched Michael beat Max. After a while, Max's parents came into the room.
"Michael, are you staying here tonight or...what?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed, leaping up off the couch as he reclaimed his title as Grand Master Video King. "Oh. Um...yeah?"
"Okay. Just making sure."
"Okay, Mom," Max said. "Michael, let Liz play."
"Yes, sir." He handed Liz the controller, showing her which buttons did what, and watched her proceed to beat the pants off of Max. He sunk into the couch with a harrumph, while Michael laughed his head off.
"Max, Liz Parker just beat you!"
"Shut up Michael," Max said, looking away. Liz grinned and squeezed his knee.
"It's okay, Max. It's not like I beat you six times."
He made a face at her and she giggled.
"Here, Max, give me a controller. I wanna see if I can beat her," Michael said, flouncing onto the couch next to Liz. Max relinquished his controller and wandered into his room, probably to get ready for bed. Michael and Liz began playing, Michael taking an early lead. About halfway through, a loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by a loud, long string of swear words from a very angry Phillip. Michael felt Liz tense on the couch next to him, and paused the game, heading into the kitchen. Mrs. Evans was there, dabbing at her husband's shirt.
"Calm down, Phillip," she placated. He grabbed the dishcloth from her and began rubbing at the stain on his shirt.
"Sorry. It was...just really hot."
"Phillip, it's hot cocoa. It's supposed to be hot, honey."
He made a face at her, and they noticed Michael.
"Michael, could you go get Max and Isabel, please? Tell them to go into the living room."
"Why?"
"Just do it, little boy," she teased, picking up a tray of mugs. He rolled his eyes and retrieved his almost-siblings, and the three of them went into the living room. Mrs. Evans handed them each a mug, and Michael sat next to Liz, who was seemingly making herself very small.
"What is this?" Liz asked him quietly.
"Evans family time."
"Pardon?"
"Every Saturday night, the Evanses get together and drink hot cocoa and...talk."
"Why?"
He shrugged.
"You questioning our traditions, Parker?" Isabel scowled, looking into her mug.
"No. Just...asking." She forced a smile.
"Good." Philllip leaned back into his chair, smiling kindly at Liz. She kind of half-smiled at him and shrunk away a fraction of an inch. Michael saw the Look that Phillip and Diane shared, and he and Liz shared a Look of their own.
"So, Michael and Liz, I heard you guys had a science test-I had to sign Max's and Isabel's-how'd you two do?"
Liz visibly flinched.
"Shall I take that to mean not so well?" Diane smiled. Liz looked up, setting her mug on the coffee table.
"Yeah. Not so well."
"Come on, Liz. What'd you get?" Isabel asked.
Liz traced an abstract design on her leg. "Um... A ...D."
"That's rough," Diane said, looking surprised. Liz nodded.
"It sucks."
"What'd you get, Michael?" Phillip asked.
"A C," he said quietly. Liz rolled her eyes.
"Michael Guerin did better that I did." She shook her head in disbelief, and Michael swiped at her, making sure to miss. Liz smiled innocently at him, and the conversation continued until Diane looked at the clock.
"Sheesh. Okay guys, it's time for bed."
"Moooom, it's Saturday," Isabel whined, but Diane didn't waver.
"And you're growing girls and boys. You need sleep."
"That's why you drag us to church at dawn?"
"Hush. Max, do you want to get Liz some blankets?"
"If you insist," Max said, getting up and heading to the closet once more. He returned, dropping the stack onto Liz's lap. "Hey, Mom, can me and Michael sleep in here tonight? Isabel too, if she wants?"
Diane studied them, then sighed. "Fine. You don't let them keep you awake all night, Liz. Because they will talk all night."
"I won't notice. In about five minutes I'll drop off like a rock."
"You're lucky," Phillip said.
"Just because you're a light sleeper doesn't mean anything," Diane said. "You guys go get ready for bed, and bring your sleeping bags in here, I guess."
They did as they were told, and when Michael returned to the room, Liz was sitting amongst the blankets on the couch, looking rather like the queen of the living room. He dragged his bag next to the couch and flopped onto it.
"You're not tired, are you?" He asked her. She opened her eyes.
"No. Not at all."
"Thought so." Max came in and laid his sleeping bag next to Michael's.
"So what's with the slumber party, Evans?" Liz asked, pulling a blanket around her shoulders.
"Just figured it'd be more fun than just sharing a room with Michael. He snores, you know."
"Watch it, Maxwell," Michael replied, wiggling down into his bag. "With all I know about you, I could have you blushing for a month."
Max didn't answer, and Liz laughed, laying down.
"You're going to sleep already?" Max asked, disappointment tinting his voice.
"I'm tired," she smiled.
"Fine." He reached up and flipped off the light, and they went to sleep.
The next day, they were awakened by Phillip turning on the television. Michael sat up, rubbing at his eyes blearily, as did Max.
"Good. You're up. Max, go get ready for church," he said, taking a drink of coffee. Max groaned and obeyed, dragging his bag out of the room. Michael heard movement on the couch behind him, and turned to see Liz sitting up, yawning. She smiled.
"Good morning," she said to the two of them, as Isabel came into the room.
"Why didn't you sleep in here, Blondie?" Michael asked her.
"Come on. Like I don't get enough of my brother during the day." She made a face, and wandered back towards her room after giving her father a kiss on the cheek.
"You two have plans today?" Phillip asked, answered only by shrugs.
"Don't all talk at once," he said, heading into the kitchen.
After they had breakfast and the Evanses had left, Michael and Liz found themselves in the park. For some reason, Liz tapped him on the arm.
"What?"
"You're it," she said, and darted away. He rolled his eyes but gave chase, easily catching her. This went on for a while, until they noticed a strange man standing outside of the fence, watching them. When he saw them looking at him, he headed inside, walking up to Liz.
"Are you Liz Parker?" he asked.
"Who wants to know?" she demanded, taking a step away from him.
"Rob, you found her?" they heard a voice call, and Nancy appeared. This set Liz off guard, and the man scooped her up, holding her around the middle. She immediately began struggling.
"Let me go!"
Nancy looked at her. "Hi, Lizzie."
The man tightened his grasp around her ribcage, and Liz yelped in pain. He slapped his hand over her mouth, but after a second, dropped her, swearing.
"She bit me!" he exclaimed, glaring at Nancy. Liz had scrambled up from the ground and ran towards Michael, who stood in front of her protectively. Nancy looked hurt.
"I don't want to hurt you, Lizzie. This is Mommy."
Liz was silent, glaring at her mother.
"Don't you want to come with me? To get away from your father? If you come with us, he won't be able to hurt you again." Tears filled her eyes. "Just come get in the car, baby. We'll drive away and never come back."
Michael looked at Liz, who was looking at him cynically. She looked up at her mother and took a step backwards. Michael followed, keeping her close. Nancy nodded, wiping at her eyes.
"I'm sorry, baby," she said, turning to leave. Rob glared at them and followed, and they got into the car.
Michael and Liz watched the car drive away, glinting in the sunlight.
Email: NobodysFool2507yahoo.com
Rating: PG, for a bit of language and implied violence.
Genre:Drama/Angst
Category: AU. Pre-shooting. Just a tad Polar, but absolutely nothing that would cause an uprising of Dreamer/Candy Fans. ('Cept...getting Polarer by the minute, lmao)
Disclaimer: They're mine! All mine! demented laughter Ooor not. They're Jason Katims and Co.'s. Evil demons. They should be vanquished. blissful grin Ahhh, if only.... cough Move along, folks. No evil plotting to see here. g
Summary: A not-so-short AU fic. Thirteen-year-old Michael is out one night, trying to escape Hank's fury for a while, when he stumbles across someone he hadn't expected to see and realizes that things aren't always what they seem.
Spoilers: Guys, the show's over. If you haven't seen an ep, you're not gonna. Lol. I don't think there's any, though.
A/N: ...I'm out of witty things to say right now... Have fun.
Things Aren't Always What They Seem
Chapter 7 (?)
When he woke up later that day, Michael was first aware that the sun was halfway down the sky, and then that he was holding something. It could have been his pillow, except his pillow didn't smell like...rain. He opened his eyes.
Liz was laying there, her body curled to match his. Something ran down his spine, and he shivered a little. But...what was it about seeing her like that that just looked...right? Stop it, Michael. First off, you're thirteen years old. Second, she's going to end up with Max. He didn't know how he knew this-he just did. It was like a weight in his stomach. Sheesh. What was this all about? He should get up-make sure Hank was either passed out or not home. So why wasn't he moving? He moved his arm from around her middle to pull a strand of her hair behind her ear, telling himself that he didn't mean to trail his finger along her milky skin. Yeah...that was it. It was an accident. Liz stretched, arching her back against him and sighed.
"Good morning?" he asked quietly, seeing if she was awake. Liz turned onto her other side, so she was facing him.
"Try good afternoon," she replied softly, her voice sweetly raspy with sleep.
"Whichever." He grinned. She rolled her eyes, and he sat up, suddenly glaringly aware of the fact that he had a girl in his bed. She followed suit, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them, regarding him sleepily. "Sorry my bed isn't real comfortable...might as well sleep on the ground."
"I was perfectly fine," Liz said. What was that light behind her smile?
"Well, fine."
"Fine." She was quiet, and then laughed.
"What?
"I'm just thinking about how wigged Alex is going to be. I didn't call him last night...I wasn't in school today. His hair's probably turning white."
Michael laughed. "He just wants to keep you around a few more years."
"I think he just wants me around now so he has an excuse to be around Isabel."
"Then I wasn't the only one who saw that."
"Saw...what?"
"That he likes her." Liz stared at him in disbelief, until he got self- conscious. "What?"
"You're a guy."
"Am I?" He made a face.
"You are. You're not supposed to notice things like that. You're supposed to be clueless."
"Oh. My bad. Would you rather I was a drooling idiot?" Liz laughed. "Seriously, though, Alex loves you." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh, come on. Not that way. Sheesh."
She grinned "I know. I was kidding."
"You didn't say a word. How could you have been doing anything?"
"I got you all defensive, didn't I?"
"I do not get defensive."
"Whatever." Liz looked over at his alarm clock. "I should go home."
"Why?"
"To go to work. To get something to eat. I'm starving."
"We have beer in the fridge."
"I cannot believe you just offered alcohol to a minor."
"I'm a minor, too."
"You don't drink it, do you?"
"What-beer?"
She nodded, eyes dark as she looked at him.
"No. It's nasty. Anyway, I've seen what it does to Hank-I'd rather not act like that, thanks."
"Good."
"Why-did you think I drank it?"
"It's in there...you never know."
Michael rolled his eyes. There was a familiar banging sound, and Michael leapt off his bed.
"What's that?" Liz hissed.
"That's Hank. Get in the closet."
"Why?"
"Just do it!" He pushed her towards the tiny closet, just as Hank slammed the bedroom door open.
"Why weren't you in school today, you worthless little punk? The school called me today-woke me up. Where the hell were you?"
"I was in school."
"Don't you fucking lie to me! You skip school, they take you away."
Michael wanted to calmly point out that Hank didn't give a hairy rodent's butt about him-it was the check-but he chose not to.
"I was in school, Hank. It must have been a problem with the computer."
"You'd better have been," Hank muttered. "Who the hell were you talking to?"
"No one."
"I heard you talking."
"I wasn't."
"You useless snotrag-I heard you."
"I was talking to myself."
"The hell were you doing that for? What the hell could you have to say that could possibly be that interesting?"
Michael was silent. Wrong answer. A beefy hand shot out, knocking Michael against the bed.
"You fucking answer me when I ask you a question."
"Nothing."
"'S what I thought. I'm gonna take a nap. Don't wake me up. And stop talking to yourself, dumbass."
He stomped out, slamming the door shut and dropping onto the couch-Michael heard the couch protest loudly. He waited until he heard Hank's snores before he opened the closet. Liz was cowering in the back corner.
"Does he always talk to you like that?" she whispered, horrified. Michael shifted. She wasn't supposed to look at him like that.
"He's usually too boozed up to talk. Anyway, you can't say anything. Look at your dad."
"He doesn't talk to me like that..."
"Forget it. Come on, let's get out of here, in case he wakes up."
She nodded, and they crept past him, heading to the Crashdown.
"Liz! You're okay!" Max flung himself at Liz, squeezing tightly. She winced, and he pulled away immediately, embarrassed. "Sorry."
"It's okay."
"Why didn't you call me last night?" demanded Alex, pulling her to him for a gentle hug.
"I forgot."
"Dumb girl," he teased softly, then kissed her cheek. "You're okay? He didn't-break anything?"
"You tell me." Liz guided his hand under her shirt, to her ribcage. Why was Michael jealous that Alex could touch her there and not hurt her? Alex sighed in relief.
"I don't think so. It's one of the worse, though."
So she'd lied to him last night, when she'd said it was no worse than usual. She looked over at him and shrugged.
"Where else did he get you?"
"He kind of...pushed me, and I hit my head on a table."
"You could have a concussion-you didn't go to sleep last night, did you?" Alex looked frantic. Liz laughed.
"No. Michael kept me awake."
Alex glanced over at him-maybe in gratitude, maybe in confusion. Michael shrugged, and his and Liz's stomachs rumbled quietly. They all laughed.
"If you'll excuse us, we haven't eaten all day," Liz said to Alex and Max, then grabbed Michael's wrist and led him to the counter. "Jose, can we have two burgers, please? And two Cherry Cokes?" She looked over at Michael. "And a bottle of Tabasco sauce?"
"Do you see me wearing one of those skirts?" Jose grumped good-naturedly.
"No, thank god."
"I'll make the burgers, but you get the rest, Missy."
Liz sighed and slid off the stool, grabbing two clean glasses. "Is Cherry Coke okay, or do you want something else?"
"Yeah-no. That's fine."
She grinned and set the glasses down, reaching under the counter for a bottle of Tabasco sauce. He grabbed it and poured a generous amount into his glass. Liz watched, eyes wide and nose wrinkled.
"I told you I liked it," Michael said after taking a swig. Liz said nothing- just shuddered. Michael got an evil idea. "Here. Try it." He held the glass out to her, eyes challenging. Her eyes met his, and they flashed. She raised her eyebrows and took the glass, drinking a bit out of it. She handed it to him.
"There. Now I can say that that is rancid."
"To each his own," Michael shrugged.
"Order up!" Jose said, plopping two plates in the window. "Hurry it up, Missy-you can take over for Goldilocks, who's gone AWOL."
"I'm not supposed to be working today," Liz pretended to whine.
"Yes you are, Miss Slacker," Jose whined right back. Liz giggled and handed Michael his plate.
"Okay, we need to work something out," Michael said quietly, after a while.
"Work what out?"
"Some sort of rules."
"For...?"
"Whatever this is. Our friendship, if that's what you want to call it..."
"Oh." Liz picked at her burger.
"First, no pity, on either side. It doesn't do anyone any good, and it's annoying."
Liz nodded.
"Second, no lying."
"What are you talking about?"
"You lied to me last night. If you lie, I can't help you. What if you hadn't passed out when you did, and went home, where you did pass out. You wouldn't have known what was going on, and you'd have gone to bed. Then where would you be?"
Liz sighed. "Fine."
"Fine." He made a face at her and finished his-technically, breakfast.
That night, Michael found himself tossing and turning in his bed. It must have been partly that he'd been asleep all day, but it seemed like his arms wanted something to wrap around. He sighed in disgust with himself and pushed his covers aside, getting out of bed. It didn't matter when he went to bed, anyway-it was Friday-tomorrow was Saturday; no school.
He quietly snuck out of the trailer and headed for the park. He paused at the gate-someone was swinging on the swingset. Watching her hair flash under the streetlight, watching her strong legs propel her up into the night sky, he knew who it was. Michael quietly headed in, and by the time Liz looked up, he was practically standing next to the swing. He saw her jump, and she dragged her feet in the dirt to slow down.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Couldn't sleep."
"It has nothing to do with the fact that we've been asleep all day, of course."
"Of course. Is your dad back yet?"
"Yeah. He got home a few hours ago."
"Where was he?"
"I don't know," she said, unconvincingly. He narrowed her eyes, and, perhaps remembering their agreement, she sighed.
"He was at the bar."
"Huh. That's interesting."
"That's one word for it."
He scoffed and stood behind her, pushing her higher in the swing. After a while, the sky went from black to dark gray, and Liz looked up, dragging her feet in the dirt.
"Oh, great!" she whispered excitedly.
"What?"
"Sunrise. I've always wanted to see one from stars to sunlight."
"Any reason?" He asked, sitting in a swing. She gave him a withering look.
"Just to have seen one. Are you telling me that you've never done anything just to have done it?"
"I kissed you, didn't I?" Why'd he say it? Why'd he say it? Why'd he say it? He mentally smacked his forehead and looked over at her. She was smiling and looking at her feet-and was that a hint of a blush tinting her cheeks?
"Didn't you do that to gross Maria out?"
Oh. Hm. "Partly." There was an awkward silence, which, for the first time in his life, Michael felt the need to break. "So," he laughed. "How was it?"
Liz laughed. "I don't have anything to compare it to."
"So I gave you your first kiss. Sweet," Michael gloated. She scooped up a handful of dirt and tossed it at him-but carefully aimed low to avoid getting it in his eyes, Michael noted.
"It doesn't count if you don't have forewarning," Liz said after a minute.
"You just made that up."
"Did not. It's in the rulebook."
"And where is this rulebook?"
"I can't tell you."
"Because it doesn't exist."
"No. Because if I tell you, they'll kick me out of the club."
"What club?"
"The girl's club, duh." She looked at him like he was an idiot, and he smirked.
"It doesn't exist."
She said nothing. What would she do if he kissed her again? Only one way to find out. He slid his swing over, fighting the chains so he was next to her. She looked up.
"Forewarning?" he said quietly, before putting his lips to her. He felt her mouth move in a reply for a second, then she smiled. He took his feet off the ground and, without anchors, the swing's chains flung him back to where it was supposed to go.
"I gave you your first kiss," he said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, biting her lip. "So how was it this time?"
"Marginally better. No audience." She was quickly turning red, so he just laughed and let it go. "We really have to stop doing this."
"Kissing?" he smirked at her again, and she turned a new shade of red.
"Staying up all night," she said levelly, even though her ears were beginning to look like Maxwell's could.
"Oh. So you don't want to stop kissing then?"
She sighed uncomfortably and looked away, rolling her eyes. "You're such a guy."
"Like you have anyone normal to compare me to."
"You're not normal, buster."
"True."
She laughed and slid off of the swing, laying carefully in the grass with her hand on her side. Michael looked at her for a few minutes, then turned his gaze to the sky, and they were quiet.
"That was interesting," Michael said about half an hour later, when all the colors had disappeared and the sun was in the sky.
"You ruined it," Liz accused.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be." She sat up, pretending to glare at him. He crossed his eyes at her, which wiped the scowl off her face, replacing it with giggles.
"I should go home," Liz said after a while, plucking a few leaves of grass but not standing up. Michael sat up.
"So go."
Liz sighed and stood. "See you later."
He watched her go, then stood and left as well.
Later that day, Michael dragged himself out of bed and over to the Evanses' house. Max answered the door in his soccer uniform.
"Michael! Thought you were dead. Come on in." He stepped back, and Michael entered.
"How was the game?"
Max looked confused, and then nodded. "We totally lost, man."
"You guys suck."
"Tell me about it. We should be called the Hoovers, not the Shooters."
"The...Hoovers."
"You know. The vacuum cleaner. Because we suck...? Dude."
Michael just looked at him. Max shook his head and headed into the kitchen. "Mom, Michael's going to be staying for lunch, okay?"
"Michael! I thought I heard you. Come here and tell me if this tastes funny." Mrs. Evans called.
"Um...Mine may not be the best palate to test food with, Mrs. Evans. I mean, considering..."
"Oh, hush. Just try it." She spooned some sort of stew into his mouth, and he started choking. She looked worried.
"How is it?"
"It's fine. Just...hot."
She nodded and turned back to the stove. "Hey, Max...Liz wasn't over the other night, was she?"
Max froze and shared a look with Michael. "...No. Why?"
"Just...thought I heard her voice the other night. And There was a long dark strand of hair on the couch today."
"...She did sleep there for almost a week, Mom," Max said uneasily.
"Yeah, on your pillow, honey. Not on the pillow we have out there." Max looked at Michael again, and this time Diane caught them. "Max."
"What, Mom?"
She sighed. "Nothing. Forget it." She was quiet for a minute. "Max."
"What?"
"If you knew Isabel was in trouble, would you do something about it?"
"Of course."
"Even if she told you not to?"
Silence filled the kitchen, and Max shifted uncomfortably. Finally Michael pushed Max away.
"Go change, man. You stink."
"I love you too, Michael," Max cracked, and left. Diane turned around, took a look at Michael, and then sighed and turned back around. Michael stood there, feeling weird, until Max returned.
"You know, Max, we're going out to the movies tonight-you're invited too, Michael-do you want to ask Liz if she wants to come?"
"Um-yeah. I'll ask her today."
"Good." Diane scooped some stew into some bowls.
"This is great, Mom," Max said, grabbing a bowl.
"Don't forget to ask Liz, Max," Diane said, sliding her purse over her shoulder. "I've gotta go shopping. We're out of milk."
"Gotta have the milk," Max said, raising his spoon in goodbye. She rolled her eyes and left.
"Do you think she knows?" Max asked, sitting at the table. Michael grabbed a bowl and joined him.
"Yeah. So does your dad."
"How do you know?"
"I've heard them talking about her."
"You've been spying on my parents?"
"No spying. Overhearing."
Max rolled his eyes, and they ate in silence. When they were finished, Max rinsed out their dishes and placed them in the sink. "Let's go ask her now," he said.
"Ask who what?"
"Ask Liz if she can come tonight."
"Oh. Probably should, huh?"
Max nodded and they went over to the Crashdown, where the last of the lunch crowd was filling a few seats. Liz was flipping through her order pad, apparently looking for something. Michael leaned over the counter.
"Boo!" He said quietly. Liz jumped and looked up.
"Hi. Hi, Max."
"Whatcha looking for?" Max asked, indicating the pad. Liz smiled sheepishly.
"My dad gave me a phone number earlier, and I stuck it in here, but I can't find it."
"Good one. Speaking of which. My mom and dad and Isabel and Michael and me are going to the movies tonight, and my mom told me to invite you. Do you think your dad would let you come?"
Liz thought. "Today's...Saturday? Um...probably. I'll go ask. Don't break into the cash register," she ordered with a mock-scowl, and then headed into the back room. After what seemed like a long time, Liz returned, making a frustrated face.
"What? He didn't say no?" Max asked worriedly. Liz rolled her eyes.
"He doesn't believe me. He wants me to get your phone number so he can call your parents and make sure its okay." She held out her pen, and Max took it, scrawling his phone number onto a napkin.
"Yeah, because you're such a liar, Liz," Michael said. She shrugged and disappeared again, returning a minute later.
"My mom found one of your hairs on the couch this morning," Max said. Liz looked confused.
"From...the night before last."
"Do you guys have a weird cleaning schedule, or...what?"
Max laughed. "I don't know. But she was asking me about it today."
Liz's eyes flashed. "What'd you tell her?"
"I told her I didn't know anything about it." Max shrugged. Liz dropped her gaze, looking regretful. "What's wrong?"
"I didn't mean to make you lie to your parents..." she said. Max took her hand-a surprising show of balls on his part. Liz looked up.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
Mr. Parker came to the doorway, and Michael felt a surge of power. He forced himself to calm down-it wasn't easy-and looked up.
"Elizabeth, tell your friends that they need to go home. We still have customers."
Liz nodded stiffly and made a face at them. "I guess I'll see you later," she said. They nodded and left.
Later that day, just as Michael was whipping Max's tail at video games, the telephone rang. Mrs. Evans answered it, and, from what Michael could hear, the person on the other end of the line was Liz's dad. He and Max shared a Look, and Diane came into the room.
"You guys, we're leaving in about half an hour, if you need to get ready or anything."
Michael made a big show of sniffing his armpits. "Nope. I'm good."
Max's mom rolled her eyes, and Max leapt up. "I'm not, though." He left, and Michael shook his head, switching the game over to one-player.
Finally everyone was ready, and they left to pick up Liz. She came out of the restaurant, followed by her father, who stood there with his hands on her shoulders.
"Thanks a lot, Phillip," he said, beaming. "For everything. I've got to run out to White Rock tonight, and I didn't want to leave her home alone all night."
"It's no problem," Phillip said, the words obviously forced.
"Right," Diane cut in, rubbing her husband's hands, which were clenched around the steering wheel. "We love having her."
"'Bye, Elizabeth," Mr. Parker said, and Liz got into the car, squeezing in between Max and Michael. They pulled away.
After the movie, all six of them went out for dinner, and then returned to the Evanses'.
"Ugh," Liz said, smelling her shirt. "I smell like cigarette smoke."
"Yeah...that restaurant might as well not have a non-smoking section," Diane said, kicking off her shoes. "You can get a shower, if you want. Isabel, show her how to work it."
"Okay. Come on, Liz," Isabel said, leading her towards the bathroom.
"So, Liz is staying here again?" Max asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Yeah. You heard-her dad's going up to White Rock."
"Cool... Come on, Michael. I demand a rematch at this." Max dug out the video game and the two of them plopped down on the couch, where Michael proceeded to beat the holy crap out of Max four times in a row. Just as Max's luck seemed to be turning, Liz entered the room, looking pale.
"Hey, Liz. Watch me beat him," Max said, not looking up. Michael paused the game.
"What's wrong?" he asked Liz.
"Max, where's your mom?" She asked quietly.
"She's in the kitchen, helping Is with her homework. Are you okay?"
"Yeah..." She headed into the kitchen. After a minute, the two of them came back through the room and disappeared. Isabel wandered into the living room, flouncing into a chair.
"Where'd Mom go?" Max asked, still beating Michael.
"In there, with Liz..." she said. "She said she'd be back in a little bit. Who's winning?"
"I am!" Max said triumphantly.
"For the first time today, you loser," Michael groused. Isabel laughed and watched them for a while. Mrs. Evans and Liz re-emerged, and Mrs. Evans gave Liz a hug.
"What happened?" Isabel asked, just a tiny twinge of jealously entering her voice.
"Just a little girl...thing," her mother answered with a wink. Liz turned red.
"That's so cool! I haven't started mine yet."
"Soon, honey," Mrs. Evans said. "Let's get back to your homework."
"Yay, Liz!" Isabel said, giving her a hug and returning to the kitchen. Liz sat in the chair Isabel had vacated, pulling her knees up to her chest and watching.
"Who's winning?" she asked. Max beat Michael with a flourish of his hand and tossed the controller onto the couch.
"I did. I beat him!" he sang, doing his own version of Isabel's victory dance. "Everyone must now bow down to the amazing greatness of the all- powerful Max Evans." He bowed deeply, and Michael chucked a pillow at him.
"The first time today," he repeated. "So what was that about, Liz?"
"What was what about?" she asked, turning pink.
"That whole thing. What happened?"
"Nothing you'd want to hear about." She grinned.
"Are you okay?" Max asked.
"I'm fine."
"Good."
She laughed and watched Michael beat Max. After a while, Max's parents came into the room.
"Michael, are you staying here tonight or...what?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed, leaping up off the couch as he reclaimed his title as Grand Master Video King. "Oh. Um...yeah?"
"Okay. Just making sure."
"Okay, Mom," Max said. "Michael, let Liz play."
"Yes, sir." He handed Liz the controller, showing her which buttons did what, and watched her proceed to beat the pants off of Max. He sunk into the couch with a harrumph, while Michael laughed his head off.
"Max, Liz Parker just beat you!"
"Shut up Michael," Max said, looking away. Liz grinned and squeezed his knee.
"It's okay, Max. It's not like I beat you six times."
He made a face at her and she giggled.
"Here, Max, give me a controller. I wanna see if I can beat her," Michael said, flouncing onto the couch next to Liz. Max relinquished his controller and wandered into his room, probably to get ready for bed. Michael and Liz began playing, Michael taking an early lead. About halfway through, a loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by a loud, long string of swear words from a very angry Phillip. Michael felt Liz tense on the couch next to him, and paused the game, heading into the kitchen. Mrs. Evans was there, dabbing at her husband's shirt.
"Calm down, Phillip," she placated. He grabbed the dishcloth from her and began rubbing at the stain on his shirt.
"Sorry. It was...just really hot."
"Phillip, it's hot cocoa. It's supposed to be hot, honey."
He made a face at her, and they noticed Michael.
"Michael, could you go get Max and Isabel, please? Tell them to go into the living room."
"Why?"
"Just do it, little boy," she teased, picking up a tray of mugs. He rolled his eyes and retrieved his almost-siblings, and the three of them went into the living room. Mrs. Evans handed them each a mug, and Michael sat next to Liz, who was seemingly making herself very small.
"What is this?" Liz asked him quietly.
"Evans family time."
"Pardon?"
"Every Saturday night, the Evanses get together and drink hot cocoa and...talk."
"Why?"
He shrugged.
"You questioning our traditions, Parker?" Isabel scowled, looking into her mug.
"No. Just...asking." She forced a smile.
"Good." Philllip leaned back into his chair, smiling kindly at Liz. She kind of half-smiled at him and shrunk away a fraction of an inch. Michael saw the Look that Phillip and Diane shared, and he and Liz shared a Look of their own.
"So, Michael and Liz, I heard you guys had a science test-I had to sign Max's and Isabel's-how'd you two do?"
Liz visibly flinched.
"Shall I take that to mean not so well?" Diane smiled. Liz looked up, setting her mug on the coffee table.
"Yeah. Not so well."
"Come on, Liz. What'd you get?" Isabel asked.
Liz traced an abstract design on her leg. "Um... A ...D."
"That's rough," Diane said, looking surprised. Liz nodded.
"It sucks."
"What'd you get, Michael?" Phillip asked.
"A C," he said quietly. Liz rolled her eyes.
"Michael Guerin did better that I did." She shook her head in disbelief, and Michael swiped at her, making sure to miss. Liz smiled innocently at him, and the conversation continued until Diane looked at the clock.
"Sheesh. Okay guys, it's time for bed."
"Moooom, it's Saturday," Isabel whined, but Diane didn't waver.
"And you're growing girls and boys. You need sleep."
"That's why you drag us to church at dawn?"
"Hush. Max, do you want to get Liz some blankets?"
"If you insist," Max said, getting up and heading to the closet once more. He returned, dropping the stack onto Liz's lap. "Hey, Mom, can me and Michael sleep in here tonight? Isabel too, if she wants?"
Diane studied them, then sighed. "Fine. You don't let them keep you awake all night, Liz. Because they will talk all night."
"I won't notice. In about five minutes I'll drop off like a rock."
"You're lucky," Phillip said.
"Just because you're a light sleeper doesn't mean anything," Diane said. "You guys go get ready for bed, and bring your sleeping bags in here, I guess."
They did as they were told, and when Michael returned to the room, Liz was sitting amongst the blankets on the couch, looking rather like the queen of the living room. He dragged his bag next to the couch and flopped onto it.
"You're not tired, are you?" He asked her. She opened her eyes.
"No. Not at all."
"Thought so." Max came in and laid his sleeping bag next to Michael's.
"So what's with the slumber party, Evans?" Liz asked, pulling a blanket around her shoulders.
"Just figured it'd be more fun than just sharing a room with Michael. He snores, you know."
"Watch it, Maxwell," Michael replied, wiggling down into his bag. "With all I know about you, I could have you blushing for a month."
Max didn't answer, and Liz laughed, laying down.
"You're going to sleep already?" Max asked, disappointment tinting his voice.
"I'm tired," she smiled.
"Fine." He reached up and flipped off the light, and they went to sleep.
The next day, they were awakened by Phillip turning on the television. Michael sat up, rubbing at his eyes blearily, as did Max.
"Good. You're up. Max, go get ready for church," he said, taking a drink of coffee. Max groaned and obeyed, dragging his bag out of the room. Michael heard movement on the couch behind him, and turned to see Liz sitting up, yawning. She smiled.
"Good morning," she said to the two of them, as Isabel came into the room.
"Why didn't you sleep in here, Blondie?" Michael asked her.
"Come on. Like I don't get enough of my brother during the day." She made a face, and wandered back towards her room after giving her father a kiss on the cheek.
"You two have plans today?" Phillip asked, answered only by shrugs.
"Don't all talk at once," he said, heading into the kitchen.
After they had breakfast and the Evanses had left, Michael and Liz found themselves in the park. For some reason, Liz tapped him on the arm.
"What?"
"You're it," she said, and darted away. He rolled his eyes but gave chase, easily catching her. This went on for a while, until they noticed a strange man standing outside of the fence, watching them. When he saw them looking at him, he headed inside, walking up to Liz.
"Are you Liz Parker?" he asked.
"Who wants to know?" she demanded, taking a step away from him.
"Rob, you found her?" they heard a voice call, and Nancy appeared. This set Liz off guard, and the man scooped her up, holding her around the middle. She immediately began struggling.
"Let me go!"
Nancy looked at her. "Hi, Lizzie."
The man tightened his grasp around her ribcage, and Liz yelped in pain. He slapped his hand over her mouth, but after a second, dropped her, swearing.
"She bit me!" he exclaimed, glaring at Nancy. Liz had scrambled up from the ground and ran towards Michael, who stood in front of her protectively. Nancy looked hurt.
"I don't want to hurt you, Lizzie. This is Mommy."
Liz was silent, glaring at her mother.
"Don't you want to come with me? To get away from your father? If you come with us, he won't be able to hurt you again." Tears filled her eyes. "Just come get in the car, baby. We'll drive away and never come back."
Michael looked at Liz, who was looking at him cynically. She looked up at her mother and took a step backwards. Michael followed, keeping her close. Nancy nodded, wiping at her eyes.
"I'm sorry, baby," she said, turning to leave. Rob glared at them and followed, and they got into the car.
Michael and Liz watched the car drive away, glinting in the sunlight.