Author: Katydidit aka PolarEmeralds aka Kat

Email:

Rating: PG, for a bit of language and implied violence.

Genre: Drama/Angst

Category: AU. Pre-shooting. Now becoming full-blown Polar.

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: 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.

Credits: The song Happy Birthday is not mine, but I know that it is copyrighted or whatever, so I want to make sure that it is widely known that I make no money from this story. nods

Things Aren't Always What They Seem

Chapter 13

"What are you doing?" Michael asked, as Isabel dragged him up their front steps. He didn't want to go in there—he'd remember all the time Liz had spent there. Isabel dropped his arm and turned to look at him.

"I don't know. Mom just told me to bring you home today." She looked over his shoulder at Max, and something glinted in her eyes. "Come on. She's expecting you."

She pushed the door open, and Michael stepped inside.

"Hey, Michael," said Phillip, who was sitting in a chair, reading the newspaper. What was he doing home so early? Phillip looked up, the same glint in his eyes as Isabel just had.

"Hi, Mr. Evans."

"Come on!" Isabel exclaimed, pulling him into the kitchen. Mrs. Evans was standing over the stove, stirring a pot. The air smelled...hot and sweet, as though she'd been baking something, and Michael narrowed his eyes in suspicion. She turned around.

"Hi Michael!" she said, smiling kindly. "Long time, no see."

"I've been busy," he mumbled, looking at the floor.

"Of course you have. Max, why don't you take him up to your room? I'll call you guys when it's ready."

"Right. Come on, Michael," Max said, pulling him up the stairs. Halfway up, Michael yanked his arm away.

"Maxwell, I know where your room is—I don't think I'll get lost on the way," he said, a little irritated that these guys thought that they had to pull him everywhere.

"Sorry." He opened his bedroom door and ushered Michael inside. "So. What do you want to do?"

"What do I want to do, Maxwell? You're the one who dragged me here."

"Right. Hey. Did I tell you?" Max looked half-afraid, half-proud.

"Tell me what?"

"Maria and I...are going out." Max dropped his eyes.

"You're kidding. You and Maria DeLuca?"

Max looked up at him, defensive. "What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's just...she's not the type of girl I saw you with." Which was true. And when had Max given up his crush on Liz?

"Michael, I realized a while after she left... I did like her, but... not the way that y—other people do." Max looked at him, his eyes serious. "And Maria...I love her. She's...she's so funny. And sweet."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Okay, fine. I don't see it, but if you say you love her..."

"I do. Gods, do I love her." Max sighed happily.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks." There was silence for a while. "Uhm...could I see what's in your sketchbook?"

Michael looked down at the large pad and held it closer to him. "They're just drawings. Pictures I couldn't get out of my head."

"So? Let me see. Please?"

"You have to promise not to laugh or say that I'm weird or have sort of medical condition that's only treatable by medication, okay?"

"I promise."

"I'm only showing this to you because we're like brothers, okay? No one else has ever seen these."

"I'm honored."

Michael reluctantly handed the sketchbook to his almost-brother, who flipped through the pages.

"Michael, these are all—"

"I know."

"And...they're great. Beautiful." He gently traced one of the pictures, careful not to smudge it.

"So was she." He stared down at Liz's face. This picture was of Liz, leaning over a book on the Crashdown counter. Her chin was resting in her hand, and her hair fell almost in front of her face, casting a shadow onto her features. He lifted his eyes from the page, and saw Max staring at him with a secret smile on his face. "What?" He demanded.

"Nothing." Max tried to look innocent. Michael half-sighed, half-growled, and snatched his book back. Max wouldn't hand it over, so Michael had to start wrestling him for it. When he'd finally gotten it back, he looked up at the doorway, where Isabel was standing and watching them in amused interest. Michael leapt to his feet.

"He started it," he said defensively. Isabel just nodded.

"We're ready," she said, and disappeared back downstairs. Michael turned to glare at Max, who looked excited.

"Ready for what?" he demanded. Max went to grab his arm, but then remembered what Michael had said and wisely stopped.

"Just come downstairs. It's time for dinner." He nearly skipped out of the room and down the stairs. Michael rolled his eyes and followed in a more dignified manner, taking a seat at the dinner table. He looked around at everyone else, who were staring very intently at their dinner plates and not even attempting conversation. This was...weird. Sure, he hadn't eaten with the Evanses in years, but it was very doubtful that they would have changed so much. Finally, though, their plates had been cleaned, and Isabel and Max leapt up, clearing the table. Diane brought in a stack of dessert plates and set them down, smiling widely.

"So...what are these for?" Michael asked. She sat down, after turning off the lights.

"You'll see," she said mysteriously.

"Okay. But why are we in the dark?" Michael demanded. This was quickly turning into a situation that he was not happy in. The door from the family room slowly swung open, and Michael leapt up, arm outstretched-ready to blast whoever it was-but Max grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down.

"Happy birthday to you..." sang an almost-familiar voice. The rest of them joined in, and Michael tried to make out who it was, but the flickering candlelight prevented him from seeing her clearly. It was a her...that was for sure. It was a female voice, and the dim light from the family room silhouetting the mystery person revealed some very feminine curves. She set the cake down on the table as they finished the song, and he rolled his eyes and blew out the candles, plunging them into darkness smelling of sulfur. He heard Diane slowly get up to turn the lights back on, and focused on the cake instead of the girl in front of him. It wasn't... It couldn't be... He looked up...

...And into a pair of very nervous, very familiar brown eyes.

He leapt up and grabbed her by the shoulders, as though she were going to slip away. He just held her still for a second, while he stared at her, trying to reassure himself that this wasn't a dream. There was no way. She couldn't—but here she was. Speechless, he wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her tightly to his body. She was hugging him equally tightly, and neither of them let go for a long time.

"Come on, Birthday Boy," Liz murmured into his ear. "They're anxiously waiting for you to cut the cake so they can eat it already. And you'd better hurry, because from the looks of things, Max is about ready to dive headfirst into the damn thing."

Michael had to laugh, then released her almost completely, interlacing her fingers with his while he hastily slashed at the cake. Finally, a disgusted Isabel took the knife from him.

"Honestly, Michael..." She said, taking over. She made pieces more equal in size, and then handed them to everyone sitting at the table. Max moved over to a chair that Phillip had brought in, so Liz could have his seat next to Michael. He could hardly concentrate on eating the cake in front of him, but he knew that Diane must have spent a long time on it, so he nearly forced himself. Once he'd finished, Diane laughed and took his plate.

"Go," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Go catch up with her. We've had her all to ourselves for a day and a half."

"We're actually getting quite sick of her," Isabel said with a grin. Michael rolled his eyes and stood, leading Liz outside.

They were just sitting there, on the lawn. Liz was looking up at the stars, but Michael was distracted by a...more earthly view. It was almost unreal—her head was tilted back delicately as she scanned the skies, and the moonlight was practically caressing her hair, her face, her neck... She looked like some sort of moon goddess. Or an angel. Michael tore his eyes away from her.

"If I...went inside to get something, do you promise you'll still be here when I get back?" He asked softly, not wanting to spoil the moment. She smiled, but didn't look away from the sky.

"I promise," she whispered. Michael jumped up and ran back to Max's room, retrieving his sketchbook before darting back outside. She was still there. Was this not a dream? God, please don't let it be a dream. Michael settled back onto the grass and flipped through his book. There wasn't much light, but he needed to get this down onto paper. Liz looked over at him inquisitively, and he shrugged.

"I draw," he said simply. "I'm going to draw you. Do what you were doing. It won't take long. I just...need to get the sketch down first."

She smiled softly and nodded, leaning back, onto her elbows. Michael took a deep breath and began outlining her face. By the time he had finished, his throat felt funny and he had to try to clear it a few times. Liz looked over at him, smiling.

"So," she began. "How have you been?"

He shrugged.

"Max told me that this was probably the first time you two had spoken in...years. Why?" She tilted her head to the side, regarding him gently. He shrugged again. "It...wasn't me, was it?"

"I don't know. I...just didn't feel like talking to any of them anymore. So I didn't."

"You shouldn't have done that, Michael," Liz admonished quietly.

"Why not?"

This time she shrugged. "They're your friends."

"So were you."

She smiled her shy Liz smile and looked away. For some reason, Michael wanted her eyes on him—wanted to be able to look into her eyes. He tried to convince himself that it was because he wanted to make sure that Liz was actually there, but Alex's laughing words from the day after Liz had left kept nudging at him. "So. Your fosterfamily. What are they like?"

She looked back at him, probably reading his mind the way only she could, and grinned. "They were...perfect. I mean, you know. Nothing's perfect, but they're..." She sighed happily. "They had five other kids already—four boys older than I am, and a daughter a few years younger."

"Sounds...nice." God dammit! Was that jealousy in his voice? He kicked himself. Couldn't he be happy for her? Liz studied him serenely.

"It was...most of the time. But...it was just too many kids. It was always really loud, and none of us ever really got the attention we wanted. It was kind of a joke in the neighborhood that, if one of us disappeared, they wouldn't notice for at least a couple of days." She grinned. "And in school, I...was just one of the Mitchell kids, regardless of the fact that my last name wasn't Mitchell." She bit her lip. "I mean, school was okay, but...I didn't really have any good friends there." She covered her face with her hands, laughing. "And now I've just rambled on and on."

Michael pulled her hands away from her face. "No you didn't. And even if you did, I wouldn't care. Because that'd mean that you were actually here."

"Do you need me to pinch you? Would that convince you that I'm really here? I mean...you seem to be having such a hard time." She beamed at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"How long have you been back?"

"A day and a half, like Max said."

"You've been here that long and you didn't come say hi, or...something?" Michael pretended to be hurt, and stood up. Liz reached up and grabbed his pant leg.

"Get back down here," she ordered, tugging on his jeans. He obeyed. "The Evanses figured that it would make a good birthday present to you, or something. I mean, you only turn eighteen once, right?"

"Yeah. How'd you get here?"

She sort of smiled. "I took extra classes after school, so I could get more credits and finish early. I am now done with school." She grinned. "Go me."

"Are you going to college, or... what?"

She shook her head. "There's no money for me to go. I'll have to get a job and save up if I want to go next year."

"Aren't there scholarships out the butt for people like you?"

She laughed. "I looked. Everything's full this year."

"That sucks. So...where are you going to be working?"

Liz looked around. "I was hoping...here. I mean, I know that there aren't really that many high-paying jobs in Roswell, but...I did some math, and even if I were just waitressing—getting paid the normal wage, of course, and assuming my tips were about the same as they were when I was younger... I might be able to swing a few classes at the community college."

"Liz Parker shouldn't have to go to community college," Michael said. "You should be, like, studying abroad...at an archaeology dig in Egypt or something."

Liz stood. "Would you rather I went to Africa? Because...I could. In fact, I think I will. See you in a couple of years, Michael, unless I contract some fatal disease and die." She went to walk off, but this time he grabbed her jeans.

"Get back here, Parker," he ordered. She laughed and obeyed, sitting back down in the grass. They were silent for a while, just drinking in the sight of each other. Finally, Liz dropped her eyes.

"I really missed you, Michael," she said softly. Why did those words from her lips send a shiver up his spine?

"I missed you, too." At his words, Liz smiled and looked up at him, once more locking eyes.

"You know..." She began hesitantly, as though she were afraid that he'd laugh at what she was about to say. "I was afraid I'd never see you again. When I drove off, I had...this really scary feeling... I knew that I wouldn't be back."

That'd been exactly what he felt. How could she always do that, even after five years apart? He reached out and touched her face. "But you're here, so looks like, for the first time in your life, you were wrong."

Liz threw her head back and laughed,