CHAPTER 60
Special Agent Joel Martin
Four weeks later

It had been their only sign of aliens since 1947.

And now they were gone.

If they had only picked up those bloody aliens at the motel when they abducted Elizabeth Parker - as he had suggested - everything would be right as rain right about now.

Instead, they were in a crisis meeting, assistant directors shouting at each other, frightened secretaries trying to calm everyone down by offering coffee and baked goods. Fists were being slammed into the table surface, chairs were scraped backwards as yet another person yelled out a frustrated protest and papers swirled occasionally through the air. One could presume one was watching a rerun episode of 'The Office' rather than the real life meeting of dignitary agents.

It had been five weeks since he'd had Elizabeth Parker restrained in a metal chair and squeezed information out of her. Only a couple of hours after Elizabeth Parker had been returned to her 'friends', the FBI had hunted the aliens at West Edmonton Mall - where the aliens had vanished without a trace.

They had been sure that the aliens would try to leave North America and that they would need to get to an airport to do so. But all the airports had been watched, since even before the questioning of Elizabeth Parker, and they hadn't turned anything up.

The aliens were gone.

Probably still hiding in North America. Because there was no way that they had managed to board a flight with the number of agents watching the international airports or their photos coming up as red flags at passport checks.

They had to still be in North America.

Alex
2 months past the aliens' departure from North America

Alex took the letter out of his mailbox and immediately recognized the handwriting. Putting the letter between his lips, he pushed the mailbox closed, locked it and unlocked the door to his apartment. He quickly locked the door behind him and put his finger inside the corner of the envelope, ripping it open.

Dearest friend,

I hope this letter finds you okay and that you got back to Boston alright. By now, you've had plenty of time to think about everything that happened and I hope that it hasn't made you regret your decision to let me go. I can tell you now, that it was the right choice.

I'm great. I'm happy. I feel safe and have stopped looking over my shoulder. X and I got an apartment, just two blocks down from M&M's place. They're gonna have a baby soon. I don't think I told you when we met last (everything was so crazy then). We're all really looking forward to this child. I guess we're all sort of hoping that it will bring us a fresh start, bring normalcy and happiness into our lives.

She misses you (I think you know who I mean). It took her a week or two before she realized that she really liked you, that she had basically fallen for you the second she saw you. So… if you're feeling lonely, there's a woman here that wouldn't mind easing that loneliness.

It's still too dangerous for me to write of our location. I will figure out a way to get it to you. Would you please tell my dad that I'm okay, that I'll contact him as soon as I can? I think they are keeping a close eye on his correspondence still, so I can't risk it right now.

I miss you. So much.

Love,

L

Liz
6 months past the aliens' departure from North America

Liz sat up straight in bed, the covers bundling up around her waist, her naked chest moving briskly up and down as she struggled for a normal breathing rhythm.

"Liz?"

His hand fumbled for the switch to the bedside lamp in the darkness of the night.

"I'm okay," she whispered, breathless, and threaded shaking hands through her hair, feeling the cold sweat on her forehead.

The light flicked on and his arms were around her waist, pulling her against his bare warm chest, his lips against her forehead as his hand came up to settle in her hair, encouraging her head against the comfort of his chest.

"You're not," he refuted quietly, concern rippling through their connection.

She knew that she couldn't hide it from him, that even without their connection he would know that something was amiss.

But habits were hard to break. It was so much easier to just stick to 'I'm fine'. She didn't like to worry him.

"It was just a nightmare," she whispered, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and trying to dispel the images of the white room, of the restraints, of the syringes and needles.

"About Aislin?" Max breathed into her hair.

"About the white room," Liz answered.

Max stilled beside her and she automatically held her breath, awaiting his reaction.

"That's new," he whispered, and there was a hint of fear that he was trying to keep out of his voice.

His hand brushed down her bare back, tracing the curve of her spine - leaving goosebumps of pleasure in its wake. She pressed against him harder, seeking warmth and security.

"I think my memory is coming back," she said.

He sighed and kissed her temple. She could feel the self-blame reverberate through their connection. He was beating himself up, still seeing it as his fault that she had been taken.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"You were not the one restraining me to a metal chair and drugging me," Liz objected, feeling her body tightening with anger. Not at him, but for the unfairness of their past, for not being able to completely escape what those monsters had done to them.

"He thinks he's from another planet, but he doesn't know for sure. He doesn't know anything about his past. He woke up in a cave, as a four-year-old, together with his sister."

"Isabel Evans?"

"Yes. She has abilities too."

"She's alien?"

"She believes so."

"What can she do? What are her abilities?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

"Are there any more like Max and Isabel?"

"Michael. Their friend: Michael. And Tess. Can't remember her last name."

"Michael Guerin and Theresa Harding?"

"Yes."

"What are their abilities?"

"I don't know what Michael can do. But Tess… She can make you see things that aren't real."

"What does that mean?"

"She invades your mind and projects images in your head. If she wants you to think that you're in a jungle, you will."

"Ms. Parker. What is their agenda? What do they want from us?"

"Nothing. Nothing."

"Liz?" Max's voice brought her back from her dream, from the memory.

"I told him everything," she whispered and her voice broke. Her nails dug into the skin of his chest as she repeated, "Everything."

"Baby, we already suspected as much," Max whispered and captured her hands with his, pulling them away from his chest and bringing them up to his lips, kissing the center of her knuckles on both hands. "You were given a truth serum. You had no choice in the matter."

"I could've fought harder," Liz said regretfully.

"They didn't catch us," Max emphasized. "They didn't win. It doesn't matter what they know; they lost."

"They're still out there," Liz whispered.

"They always will be," Max answered and Liz was once again reminded of how Max had lived his whole life like this. Expecting to be picked up any day because he encountered the wrong person, was seen in the wrong setting.

She looked up at him in the yellow smooth light of the bedroom lamp and cradled his cheek in her hand. Her thumb brushed gentle over his mouth and her eyes followed the movement longingly before looking up into his brown eyes. The irises were peppered with gold in the dim light and she smiled at him.

"What?" he asked, returning her smile.

"I love you," she said gently, tasting each word. She loved telling him that, ever since she had worked up the nerve to say it to him that first time - 43 days ago.

His eyes darkened, the golden flecks shrinking as his pupils dilated with love and passion. "I love you too."

"I will always love you," Liz whispered as desire curled through their connection and she crawled onto his lap, straddling his waist. She felt his response below her naked body as well as through the bond in her mind.

He leaned in and touched his lips to hers as he brought their, still interlaced, hands to her waist against her back, making her breast arch against him. He moaned against her mouth as he kissed the junction between her upper and bottom lip before trailing heated kisses down her jaw, down her throat.

She brought their connected hands to her front and placed his hands over her breasts, her nipples aching for his touch. As she released his hands at their intended destination, her own hands were free to bury themselves in his hair, tugging on it to bring his wandering mouth back to hers. Her lower body rocked against his as she captured his lips, tasted his tongue and let her hands flutter across the features of his face. Sometimes she had troubles containing what she felt for him; it felt like the love was going to rip her apart at the seams.

But what a beautiful way to go, she thought and smiled under the assault of his mouth.

He kissed her smile and slowly lowered them down, her on her back, him adoring her front. He settled between her legs, the friction between their bodies delicious as he moved slightly up her length to place a kiss on her forehead.

He pulled back, his weight resting slightly off her body on his elbows, and locked his eyes with hers. She was trembling all over with restrained want, a familiar ache throbbing at the center of her being and small sweat droplets were already spreading across her skin in anticipation of what was bound to happen next.

"I'm so grateful," he whispered, a tear glistening in the corner of his eye.

"Grateful?" she asked, breathless with need. She didn't want him to stop, didn't want him to waste time on talking.

She was about to open her mouth to say just that when he smiled and elaborated; "I'm so grateful that you were the one to deflower me."

She giggled and lifted herself up on her elbows so that she could press her mouth against his.

So was she. So was she.

Michael Guerin called just five minutes later, according to his impeccable bad timing, and announced that Maria was having contractions and that Max better get his ass over to their apartment right now.