Fics by Carol000

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Fics by Carol000

Post by Carol000 » Wed Feb 04, 2004 10:18 pm

Kath 7 is a saint. It's true. Besides being an awesome writer and a patient and kind board mod, she is a closet saint. In Carol's world, that means she is posting links to my fics so that I don't have to cut and paste a thousand page of Dreaming. BLESS HER!! :D

Best Author of a CC fanfic Runner-up

So, here are links to my fics:

Circles in a Pond

Summary: This story involves all characters, but centers around Max and Liz. This takes place right after Destiny. Kyle must learn to cope with his new knowledge, and an emergency causes drastic measures to be taken that lead to stunning revelations about the Pod Squad.

Category: Max/Liz

Rating: PG-13 ... arol.shtml

Acting Alien

Summary: A teen sci-fi show's director is unhappy with the chemistry (or lack thereof) and believability of his characters. He gets permission to take them to Roswell for a bit of atmosphere and a reality check. (You may notice some similarities between these characters' names and those of our beloved cast and creative team.)

Category: Max/Liz

Rating: PG-13 ... arol.shtml

Epiphanies 1 - The Ties That Bind

Summary: This story involves all characters, but centers around Max and Liz. This takes place a couple of months after Destiny. The Pod Squad meets someone with some answers, Liz is in danger, Mrs. Evans has a shock.

Category: Max/Liz

Rating: PG-13 ... arol.shtml

Epiphanies 2 - The Anasazi Road

Summary: This is the sequel to EPIPHANIES 1: The Ties That Bind. It picks up the evening of the Evans barbeque that ended the first story. Here, Max and Liz must come to terms with a shocking revelation about Liz and her Grandma Claudia. They search the past among Native American ruins and history to find the truth and each other.

Category: Max/Liz

Rating: PG ... arol.shtml

Epiphanies 3 - Soul Survivor

Summary: Third in the Epiphanies trilogy. Picks up three weeks after the end of The Anasazi Road. ... 18942.html



Round 3 Winner



Round 4 Winner


Storyline You Wish the Show Had Followed

Summary: What happened back in Roswell after six local teens disappeared amidst a confusing military operation at West Roswell High’s graduation. How did the parents cope? Where did the gang go with no money, no possessions, and a whole lot of unsettled business between them? Who, in fact, was the enemy? Good questions. Here are some answers.

Dreamer Holiday Series:

Round 1 Winner


Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas ... 95424.html

Valentine's Day

Summary: Liz was never shot, so in their junior year, Max is still hiding his feelings for Liz, until she decides to force the issue. ... 61580.html

Fourth of July

Summary: Max and Liz are in college and have no history together--except in their dreams. ... 81392.html

Labor Day ... 34890.html

Round 3 Winner


Spring Break

Max was dreading a week in Ft. Lauderdale with Michael--partying just wasn't his style, especially given his secret. But one night, walking along the beach, the tears of a beautiful girl watered seeds of love and a new life.

Posted in 4 posts below.

New Year's

Round 4 Winner


Thanks for reading!
Last edited by Carol000 on Mon Feb 23, 2004 11:12 pm, edited 4 times in total.

Max and Liz: The love that is Roswell--"You have gone through me like thread through a needle. Now everything I do is stitched with your color."

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Post by Carol000 » Thu Feb 05, 2004 8:46 pm

Title: DREAMER HOLIDAYS: Spring Break

Author: Carol000/spacemom

PG through NC-17

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or this premise. However, I do like to think I treat both with more love and care than their more public guardians ever did.

Setting: Max and Liz, college seniors and total strangers—on this plane, at least—are both having a less than perfect spring break in Ft. Lauderdale. But a week can make a world of difference.

Spring Break

Damn Michael.

For the third straight night, Max sat in the corner of the bar, nursing a warm Cherry Coke and cursing his best friend. Only Michael’s campaign of whining and guilt-inducing pleading had persuaded him to accompany his friend to Ft. Lauderdale for one last blowout before college graduation. One last blowout. First and last was more like it. Blowouts weren’t Max’s thing, and watching masses of teens and twenty-somethings flirt, drink, grind, and pair up wasn’t his thing, either. Probably because he knew he could never truly be one of them.

Not that it wasn’t beautiful--palm trees, beaches, oceanfront view, and a glittering nightlife. Live bands in every bar and the jubilant shouts of youthful indulgence punctuated the rhythmic hum of teeming life. It was a mecca for sun worshippers of all ages where retired professionals mingled easily with enthusiastic college kids eager to test their freedom. One thing brought them together—a week without responsibility in paradise.

Max watched as one young woman, a low-slung skirt accentuating a tanned and toned midriff, sidled up to his table. Her long blond lashes lowered in practiced assessment, and she lingered, waiting for the inevitable invitation. He smiled, hoping his rehearsed lie didn’t betray the exasperation he felt.

“Sorry, I’m saving this seat for my girlfriend.”

She frowned briefly, surprised at this rare and unexpected rejection, and moved to the bar. Her top--several lengths of string holding a lacy piece of cloth over generous breasts--immediately attracted the attention of the dozen or so males within a 6-foot radius. There were several offers to pay for her drink, and soon she had assumed her proper place as the eye of a testosterone storm.

Max had no trouble understanding the appeal. She was pretty, sexy, and looking to party. Any one of those would have attracted a crowd, but all three together was a home run. If he were honest, he would have to admit that he wasn’t impervious. Out on the beach, he’d had dozens of implied invitations, in spite of his tendency to settle on a quieter stretch of sand and read or lose himself in the expanse of lulling ocean. And although his body would always react, his heart and his mind never could. But he wasn’t dead and he wasn’t gay. What he was was alien, and that changed all the rules.

Of course, Michael had found a way to enjoy himself. He was a changed man since high school back in Roswell, when his surly disposition and disinterest in making a life on Earth had easily discouraged potential friends and romances. But since then, they had accepted that this would be their home. No one had come for them; no clues had been uncovered. Their past was a mystery, but their future was still to be determined. The impact of this acceptance was nothing short of miraculous. Michael had stopped hiding his intelligence with a dazzling show of grades that got him into college at the eleventh hour, and he had come to enjoy the benefits of friends and fun with unparalleled enthusiasm. And now, in the thick of spring break, he’d jumped in with both feet. Unlike Max, he could play the game and walk away. Unlike Max, he didn’t feel like a part of himself was still missing.

Suddenly the room was stifling, and with a glance toward Michael, who was giving a pair of shapely twins intense personal instruction in the art of foosball, he pushed his way out to the busy marketplace and down the steps toward the street. Heavy traffic inched its way down the popular strip, and he easily dodged the slowly cruising cars to the beach side, stepped over the low wall, and kicked off his sandals, breathing the fresh breeze deeply into his lungs.

For all the music and shops and flirting on one side of the street, the beach was all but deserted on the other. The moon’s reflection shimmered and rolled atop the undulating water, bursting in a show of frothy light as the breakers hit the beach. It was calming and intimidating all at once. Such peace. Such power. It put a person in his place, no matter what his planet of origin.

Walking down to the water’s edge, he watched the liquid tentacles reach for him, growing closer with each gentle thrust. A sea monster from an old movie flashed across his mind, and he pushed the image away with disgust; he’d never lost the somewhat ridiculous worry that maybe he had another form hidden inside that would one day emerge, terrifying the world and even himself. Michael had snorted derisively the one time Max had admitted to this, so he’d never mentioned it again, but still, what if?

Pulling back from this line of thought, both physically and mentally, he stepped back several paces and sat, enjoying the feel of the cool sand against his still sun-warmed skin. He gazed at the sky, letting his mind wander aimlessly. At first, the small sobs seemed to belong to the ebb and flow of the water only feet away. But their rhythm was stilted and irregular, nothing of nature in their sorrow.

He looked around, peering intently into the shadows of palm trees and forgotten umbrellas. At first, he saw nothing, but a harsh intake of breath followed by another round of poorly suppressed cries narrowed his search. There was, in fact, a small out-of-place ball of shadow huddled into itself only a few feet away, further obscured by the trunk of the palm against which it leaned. Held in place by indecision, he watched, frowning. Then he saw the small bundle shudder, and his decision was made.

Rising soundlessly, Max pushed through the twenty or so feet of sand that separated them. As he drew near, he could make out the muted silhouette of a petite girl, her head resting on arms that were propped up by knees pulled tightly against her. A curtain of dark hair shielded her face but it shone intermittently, reflecting the breakers’ small bursts of light. Not wanting to scare or embarrass her, Max sat quietly, waiting for an acceptable calm in the storm to ask if she was all right.

He waited quite a while, actually, as the girl’s shoulders continued to shake, broken only by small gasps of air that allowed her to begin again. At long last, she calmed, and her head lifted slowly, eyes closed.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?” His voice was soft and gentle, but she jumped, predictably startled by his presence.

“I’ll be fine,” she snapped hoarsely, and began to stand up.

“I’m sorry. You stay. I’ll leave. I was just on the beach and heard how upset you were. I couldn’t very well leave without making sure you were okay.”

Eyes finally adjusted, she peered at him warily. He knew she could see his face because she was studying him with an expression of surprise that reverted back to wariness.

“I’ve seen you,” she said with an edge of contempt. “You were at Lulu’s last night, surrounded by gorgeous girls, as I recall. What happened, did they all desert you?”

“Yes, I was there, but not for long. The party scene isn’t really me. Besides, if you saw me, then you were there, too.”

He couldn’t help but smile as she registered his point with a frown. “True.” She looked up at him again, mildly curious, he thought. “Well, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

Even in this light, he could see her puffy eyes and tear-streaked face. His heart went out to her and he pushed himself up quickly.

“Please, don’t go. You could probably use some more time before braving party central over there,” he nodded toward the lights of the strip. “I’ll go, as long as you’re sure you’re okay.”

She was studying him, and he shifted self-consciously as her eyes took in his muscular build and toned muscles. He was sure she saw his body as a billboard for self-absorbed men who want to attract the worshipful attention of eager females. He knew that’s how it came across. She couldn’t know that he usually worked out in the middle of the night when anxious thoughts of his origins and unanswerable questions about his future made sleep impossible. She couldn’t see how the longing to fill the anonymous void inside him could be quieted only by the physical exhaustion that the exercises induced.

In the course of this awkward conversation, they had turned, and Max finally saw her face clearly. She was beautiful, even with tear-swollen eyes. The long dark hair framed her face, and something about the large, intelligent, brown eyes and the way she carried herself told him that crying was an unusual event. Her nose was small and dainty, like her body, and the mouth was soft and full, hiding even white teeth that made an unexpected appearance as he surveyed her.

“Do I pass inspection?”

He hoped his blush was undetectable. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t see you before, and I was just . . .”

There was absolutely no safe way to finish that sentence, so he stopped, hoping she would fill in the blank with whatever suited her.

“Just deciding if I was worth the trouble?”

“No!” He was torn between irritation and attraction, but figured the odds were against him. A part of him wanted to run from her, leaving her to her beach and her tears, but another part of him just wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her. Her brave words did little to allay the feeling that this girl needed a friend. And for the first time in a very long while, he found himself wanting to spend time with a woman.

“Worth what trouble?” he asked more gently. “I just thought maybe you could use a friend.”

Her indecision encouraged him. “You know, sometimes, it helps to talk things out. And what better way than with a complete stranger who you’ll never have to see again?” As he spoke the words, he felt a surprising twinge of disappointment. It evaporated seconds later when her words sent his mood in the opposite direction.

“I see what you mean. No embarrassment, no repercussions. Just . . . anonymous. Like a priest,” she added with a smile, obviously seeing little resemblance between Max and your average priest.

“I don’t know about that,” he smiled, happy to see a shift in her mood. “But people tell me I’m a good listener.”

She was thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, padre,” she teased. “Let me know if I start to bore you to death.”

“Not much chance of that . . . What’s your name, by the way?”

“Oh, no you don’t.” She shook her head reprovingly. “Anonymous, remember?”

“Fair enough. So what’s the problem?”

She sighed and looked down the beach. “How about we walk while we talk?”

“Perfect,” he smiled.

She swooped up her sandals and headed for the shoreline. Max followed eagerly; he hadn’t felt this good in a very long time.

“When Kyle and I started dating back in high school, it was just normal teen dating—movies, dances, videos, a little making out—but I never expected it to last. You know, I figured we’d date, go to prom, then off to college and new people. Only it didn’t turn out like that. Kyle wound up accepting the same school I did, and ever since, he—and everyone else—has just assumed that we’d wind up together. I feel like I’ve been carried along on this current, and now my life is planned without any input from me!”

Her voice had risen in pitch as she talked; there was no mistaking the tension she felt as she finished.

“So you think you want to take control back?” Max prayed his voice didn’t sound as hopeful as he felt. For some inexplicable reason, he felt more for this slip of a girl than he’d felt for any other, and even though he couldn’t explain it, it felt good. Really good.

“I think I just did,” she answered dryly.


“Kyle just asked me to marry him.”

Max stopped dead in his tracks, somewhat sucker-punched by her abrupt statement. Shiny tendrils of water surrounded his feet, and he felt himself sink into the sand as they retreated. It added to the sense that he was already being pulled away from her.

“And . . .?”

She turned when she realized he had stopped walking, and the moon reflected off the still-damp trails on her cheeks and the new tears in her eyes.

“I said no.”

Max swallowed hard. “And now you’re sorry?”

She looked like an angel standing there with the breeze rippling her thick hair, her skin almost translucent, giving her the appearance of glowing from within. She bit her lip and looked up at the stars, as if she could divine the answer there.

“Not sorry, no, but guilty and . . . scared.”

Max took a full breath again, and pulled his feet from beneath the heavy resistance of waterlogged sand.

They resumed their walk. “Okay, one at a time. Why guilty?”

She was quiet for a few moments, and then asked suddenly, “Do you love your parents?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Have you ever done anything that made you feel like you had . . . you know . . . let them down? Like somehow you’d betrayed their trust in you?”

“Sure, I guess. I remember one time I took off for a couple of nights without telling them where I was. They freaked, of course, and I felt awful about what I’d put them through.”

“Exactly. Well, that’s the thing. I should have done this a long time ago, I guess. My parents and Kyle’s dad have been acting like in-laws for the last two or three years. And Kyle . . .” She shook her head and Max watched distractedly as streaks of light caught her hair. “. . . he could’ve been out there looking for someone to love him the way he deserves to be loved. But I just let it go. I kept thinking I would come around, and finally feel the way everyone wanted me to feel, the way they thought I did feel. But I . . .”

It was her turn to stop, looking up at him with a quiet plea in her eyes, hoping perhaps he could finish her sentence for her. With no conscious thought, he suddenly imagined himself reaching for her and kissing her, and, in this happy fantasy, she kissed him back—thoroughly. Then the vision evaporated and he was looking straight into her eyes, so familiar, as if he’d always known their untold depths. He had to shake himself to return to her reality.

“So why don’t you? I mean, what’s holding you back?” He was no longer the impersonal sounding board. Suddenly, he realized he had a stake in the answer.

Her eyes broke away, and he felt shut out again. “Well, we’ve moved on to the scared part. I . . . I don’t think I can explain that, exactly.”

He touched her hand in spite of himself. “Try,” he urged.

He felt her small fingers curl around his own, and a small jolt made his body tingle. “You’ll think I’m crazy.” Her half-smile gave away her intention to do as he’d asked, though, and he pulled her gently down to sit beside him in the sand.

“Anonymous stranger, right? No embarrassment.”

She sighed heavily. “Okay, but I warned you.” She pulled her hand away and began to drag lazy circles in the sand. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

I do now, he thought nervously. “I don’t know. Do you?”

“Ever since I was a kid, I’ve talked to someone—someone who wasn’t really there. He doesn’t even have a name or a face; he’s just a presence in my life.”


She laughed, a husky, spine-tingling sound that went through him like the reverberation of bells tolling across the quad. He could tell she was blushing, not so much from her skin color, which the moon had washed to a pale gold, but by her body language—head bent and tilted slightly away from him.

“Yeah, it’s a he. But it gets worse, because I don’t just talk to him. It’s like I’m waiting for him, like there’s a big empty space inside me that no one can fill but him.” She let out a self-derisive snort. “And for this, I turned down a marriage proposal from a really good guy who loves me. Now he’s hurt and confused, our parents won’t understand, and me . . . well, I’m scared to death.”

Max sat silently next to her. This was the listening part. There was nothing he could say to her now to help work through this. She just needed an ear. Besides, if he spoke, he was afraid he might sound glad about her decision to turn this Kyle guy down, and that wasn’t going to help either.

“So now my life has totally changed and I have no idea what’s next. I don’t know who I’m going to marry or where I’m going to live or even whether I’m completely crazy. Will I spend my life alone because I’m waiting for someone who doesn’t exist? Am I throwing away a terrific life for a dream? Now that I’ve done it, I’m totally panicked. And I guess that’s why I was crying. I just feel lost.”

These last words were barely more than a whisper, a difficult admission, but her part of the bargain had been fulfilled. She’d gotten it off her chest, unburdening to a complete stranger. Max wondered again why he didn’t feel like a stranger.

They sat in silence for several minutes, watching as the tiny waves inched closer to their feet. So much of what this girl was saying applied to his own life—wasn’t he just as unsure of his place in the world? His future? Hadn’t he just been riding the waves, letting things happen to him instead of making things happen? He’d been hiding behind a lie, too, afraid to go out and find where he really belonged. And with whom.

“Maybe not knowing is really what life’s all about,” Max ventured. “We’re not meant to know what’s coming. We’re meant to struggle and make decisions and fail and try again. And if we find someone who is willing to take that ride with us, so much the better, but taking it with the wrong person is never the right decision, no matter how right it looks on paper.”

He had her attention now, and realized that he was voicing confident advice that he hadn’t even been willing to take for himself—until now.

“Parents can only give us the foundation. At a certain point, it’s up to us to make it happen. We can’t do it to please them or even friends or lovers; we have to do it for us. Making a hard decision doesn’t make you crazy. It makes you courageous.”

She turned to face him, but said nothing. She only studied him. There was a question in her eyes, looking so deeply into him that he felt she was effortlessly piercing the shell he’d built around his vulnerability. He fought the urge to break that shell wide open. He’d never felt this way before, but for her—this nameless stranger whose heart spoke to his like no other—he was almost willing to take the risk.

She stood suddenly, startling him. He wondered how long they had been sitting there staring at each other. Long enough, apparently, because she was saying goodbye.

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss his cheek. He watched helplessly as she scampered across the sand to the sidewalk and disappeared into the crowd.
Last edited by Carol000 on Thu Feb 05, 2004 9:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Max and Liz: The love that is Roswell--"You have gone through me like thread through a needle. Now everything I do is stitched with your color."

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Post by Carol000 » Thu Feb 05, 2004 8:48 pm

Max barely slept that night. His mind was so filled with her, and yet he’d let her get away without a name, an address; he didn’t even know which school she attended. How had he let her walk away? And yet he knew—he had promised. An anonymous stranger. No embarrassment. No repercussions.

He had to stop making promises he couldn’t keep.

It was 11 a.m. the next morning before Michael awoke. He was barely conscious before Max rousted him, peppering him with questions, harassing him for clues.

“Short and dark-haired. Yeah, Maxwell, that narrows it right down. There are about 6,000 kids in a 5-block area here and you want me to identify one nondescript girl. Get off me, man. I haven’t even brushed my teeth.” He pushed out of bed and went into the bathroom, caught between astonishment and outrage when Max just followed him in.

“She not nondescript!” he fumed. “She’s beautiful, with huge, intelligent brown eyes and long, luxurious hair and perfect skin . . .”

“What the hell happened last night?” Michael was peering at his friend as if he didn’t recognize him. Max looked near frantic with his questions about this girl. Michael had never seen him like this. In fact, he had counted on his disinterest in girls for years. The two of them would enter a bar, the babes would gravitate to Max like flies to honey, and then Max would disappear into his corner while Michael scooped up the bounty. But this . . . what the hell was this?

“Nothing. Nothing happened. I just . . . we just talked, but she was special, Michael, and I want to find her. You have to help me.”

Michael dutifully listened to Max wax poetic about the virtues of this very average-sounding girl and agreed to ask around. Personally, he didn’t expect much in the way of results, but this was the most animated he’d ever seen Max, and that had to be worth something.

Meanwhile, Max strolled the beaches, never once stopping to watch the waves or bask in the sun. His eyes scanned in broad sweeps, pausing every time he spotted a petite dark-haired girl. Michael may have had a point about that, at least. That description was way too generic to do him any good. He could feel his skin begin to burn beneath the blazing sun, but he kept fighting through the sand, pushing against it as it gave way with each step. Nothing.

Hours later, he stood in the shower, letting the spray cool his hot skin, but his mind was still burning with images. With all his special powers, none were of any help in finding this girl. The frustration was building, and he felt that he would explode any minute. Stepping from the shower, he strolled into the bedroom, carelessly dropping his towel in the floor as he searched for something clean to wear. Michael poked his head in.



“Does Dreamgirl wear glasses?”

“Uh, no.”

Michael surveyed his naked friend with amusement. “I’m beginning to understand the urgency,” he snickered, and headed out the door. Max looked down in confusion, surprised to see the object of Michael’s smirk—he was hard as a rock, and hadn’t even realized it. No doubt about it—he was losing it.

Night fell and Max simmered with restlessness. Lacking any real plan, he headed back to the beach and began to pace along the same stretch they had shared the night before. The heavens were in their glory. The moon was huge and gold on the horizon, and the stars shone abundantly, in spite of the city lights. He stopped to admire it, always awed by the majesty and beauty so far above them. It seemed oddly familiar territory, and he asked these ancient friends the question of his heart.

“Where are you?” he shouted into the bejeweled darkness.

“Who are you talking to?” she asked. He whirled around, wondering if she, too, had special powers that allowed her to appear and disappear at will.

“You’re here! Where in the world did you come from?”

“Just sitting over there. I saw you walk by.”

Now that she was standing there, Max had no clue what to say to her. He’d spent all day looking for her, and now he couldn’t come up with one coherent sentence. She forced the issue with an innocent question.

“Who are you looking for?”

Several pathetic lies presented themselves and were rejected out of hand. Finally, he took the easy way out.


She seemed pleased, if not surprised by this simple answer. “Want to take a walk?”

By silent agreement, they turned in the same direction they had walked last night. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he reached for her hand, and she slipped it into his, curling her tiny fingers around his large palm. They’d walked some distance when Max tentatively broke the silence.

“So are you going to tell me your name tonight?”

She smiled. “What happened to anonymous?”

“I have to call you something, don’t I?”

She pondered this. “How about you give me a name. What do I look like to you?”

Max stopped and gazed down on the face that was slowly becoming the center of his universe. He gently touched her cheek, tracing a line from her cute nose to her amazing eyes. “Hope,” he said shyly. “You make me feel hope.”

Again, he watched as she searched his face for . . . what? He would gladly give whatever she was looking for, if only he knew what it was. Then, just as fast, the look was gone, and she turned to resume walking.

“Do you think we’re alone in the universe?” she asked.

Max fought to keep his face neutral. If she could see him half as well as he could see her in the brilliant moonlight, he would at least need to control his face, if not his racing heart.

“All I know is, it sure as hell feels that way.”

She turned to look at him. Perhaps that had been a little too heart-felt after all.

“All we did last night was talk about me, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor. Tell me something about you.”

“Like what?”

“Well, like why you feel so alone, for starters. I’ve seen the girls flock around you a time or two. If you’re alone, it’s by choice. Why is that?”

All the answers he longed to share with her raced across his mind, but he kept his guard up. For all her unprecedented effect on him, she was still a stranger.

“I guess I’m just a loner,” he shrugged.

Her mouth twitched with amusement. “Now who’s keeping secrets? Someone who is a loner by nature isn’t conscious of feeling alone; that’s how they want it. So I’m guessing something is keeping you alone, something you wish you could change.”

Max gaped down at her. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Read people like that. You don’t know anything about me.”

She smiled up at him, a sad smile full of melancholy. “Apparently I’m better at reading others than I am at reading myself. So spill. What’s your story?”

They walked again, and Max gave the public version of his life—adopted by wonderful people when he was abandoned in the desert at the age of six, unremarkable childhood, good grades, now finishing a degree in pre-med, on break with best friend Michael.

“Dull enough for you?” he finished.

“Sounds nice,” she said. “But you left out the important part, didn’t you?”

He pulled her around to face him. “What do you mean ‘the important part’?”

“Your secret. You left out your secret.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded. For the first time in his life, he felt someone was truly seeing him, seeing someone others never did. The painful loneliness dissipated for a fleeting moment, and he was overcome with a sense of joy he’d never experienced before. Then, without warning, he took her in his arms and kissed her. He hadn’t expected to do that, and he certainly hadn’t expected to feel this barely controlled passion well up in him, threatening to burst open any walls that stood between them.

She came to him easily, willingly, and he could feel himself merging into her, as if the physical confines of their bodies had fallen away and their souls crashed together in an urgent dance. When they parted, naked emotion charged the air between them.

“Is it you?” she breathed, seemingly unaware that she’d spoken.

“Who?” he gasped. His head was spinning with their closeness, but with his one-word answer, her eyes filled with anguish, and she ran. This time he chased after her, but she slipped through a break in the traffic where he could not, and he watched as she disappeared into the lobby of the hotel. By the time he reached the door, she had taken refuge in the elevator, and without a clue where to start looking, he was helpless to follow.

He stumbled desperately toward the street, looking up at the cavernous high rise. The Doubletree. At least twenty floors, thousands of rooms. And she was in one of them. Come hell or high water, he would find out which one.

He’d walked all night. Not alone, as he might have liked, because the revelry of spring break in Ft. Lauderdale didn’t dim until at least 4 a.m. But he didn’t see the faces or hear the music; he only saw her face, tear-stained, anguished, lost. His resolve only deepened as he watched the miles of pavement disappear behind him. She had to come out sometime.

He returned to his room, showering, shaving, dressing in the nicest clothes he’d brought, which wasn’t saying much for someone who planned to sit on a beach all week. The last thing he needed was to be bodily removed from her hotel because he looked like a homeless person. He was glad his parents’ timeshare, given to him for the week as an early graduation present, provided separate bedrooms and bathrooms for the two roommates. He didn’t want to answer any of Michael’s questions just now.

By 7 a.m., he was reading a newspaper in the lobby of her hotel, eyes trained on the elevator doors. By lunch, a tactful security guard had asked to see his room key. A quick pass of his hand over his own key from the Marriott had assured the guard that he was a Doubletree guest, and they left him to his reading. By 5 p.m., he was beside himself. She hadn’t appeared all day, he still didn’t know her name, and he was getting shaky from lack of sleep and food. A few girls who had met him briefly in the bars earlier in the week stopped to say hello, hopeful smiles on their faces, but soon they were on their way to the beach or shopping, speculating on the hot guy who was either gay or too dull for words.

Anxious glances in his direction from the staff were becoming more obvious, so Max moved to the outdoor café next to the hotel, ordering a sandwich and a drink from a table with a full view of the hotel doors. By 7:30, the irritated waiter was asking him what else he would like at intervals of five minutes or less, so Max reluctantly paid his bill and went back to his room to check his messages, knowing full well she had no more to go on than he did when it came to finding each other.

Had she checked out? Was she ill? Was she hiding from him? What had he done? He’d felt her returning his kiss. He knew in his heart that she had wanted that kiss as much as he had. And yet, one word from him had sent her fleeing from him. “Is it you?” she had asked him. What did she mean by that? Who was it she thought he was?

Then the truth slammed him in the chest. Is it you? What was the matter with him? Sunstroke? Or just good old-fashioned stupidity? No, more like his head was spinning from a single taste of her. She had been asking him if he were the man whose presence she had always felt, the man who would complete her, fill her, the man she had waited for. And he knew that he was, as surely as he knew that she was the one he needed in his life, his heart.

Filled with a new determination, Max returned to the beach where they’d met for two nights. A sense of calm had settled over him. This was right. It was fated. Yes, he most definitely did believe in soulmates.

His short-lived sense of calm began to crumble as the hours wore on. It was late at night now, and there was no sign of her. Couples walked by, hand in hand, stopping to kiss and murmur words of love. And each time, he became more painfully aware of her absence. His body ached to feel her in his arms, to kiss her, to make her his in every way. Now that he felt this certainty, it was killing him not to be able to talk to her, to tell her everything, and to ask her to be a part of his life forever.

The sounds of two lovers coming together startled him from his pain momentarily. His head swung of its own accord toward the sounds, and he realized they must be in the deep shadow of the lifeguard’s hut, shielded from the moon’s reach. As the passion-filled moans and the sounds of bodies slapping together in a quest for physical release assaulted his ears, his body stiffened with a violent urge, and he bit his lip against the heart-wrenching realization that she was gone. It was over before it had even begun.

He started to run, grateful for the effort it took to triumph over the stubborn resistance of the sand, channeling his anger and frustration into the muscles that drove him soundlessly away from the pain, from her. He had barely realized what she was to him before one careless word had shut the door on his future. How could he have not known immediately what she was asking? His senses had been on overload, the effect of her kiss firing through him in a searing rush. His brain had given itself over to sensation, abandoning thought or reason. Still, he should have known.

Max slowed, then stopped, his lungs bursting. He was in good shape, but he’d been running full out for several minutes, and his body’s protests couldn’t be ignored any longer. As his ragged gulps of air steadied to soft even gasps, the sound of tense voices floated across the water. He fought to keep his heavy breathing from intruding on a private conversation.

“I just don’t get it, Liz! Is there someone else? Did I do something? You owe me an explanation, dammit!”

“I’ve told you, no! It’s not you. It’s me. I haven’t been honest about my feelings with anyone, least of all myself, and I realize that committing to someone who isn’t the one—no matter how great a guy he is—isn’t fair to either person. You deserve better, Kyle.”

Max froze. Her voice was unmistakable. Her name was Liz. Okay, that was a place to begin. And Kyle. That was her boyfriend’s name. Exboyfriend, that is. Now his heart was skipping erratically for a different reason. He strained to hear as Kyle spoke again, lower this time.

“How many years have we been together, Liz? I’ve never cheated on you. I’ve always treated you well. I’ve loved you, for God’s sake. I even promised to put sex off until we were married. Not many guys would have done that, you know. And now you say you don’t love me?”

Max couldn’t help but react to Kyle’s comment. In spite of the circumstances, he smiled into the darkness. She’d never slept with him. That shouldn’t have made a difference. After all, he’d just assumed they’d been intimate for years, and he hadn’t cared. At least he thought he hadn’t. But now, knowing that they hadn’t crossed that line made his heart soar, and he was carried away in his relief until she spoke again, and his attention focused on hearing her words once more.

“I know this seems like it’s coming out of nowhere, Kyle. And that’s my deepest regret, because I do love you. Very much. But I’ve confused one kind of love with another, and now I’m hurting you, which is the last thing I want to do. You have to believe that.”

A disbelieving snort was her answer. “So now what? What about all the things we talked about? The house near our families, the two kids, the bed and breakfast when we retire? Was that all just talk?”

“No, Kyle. It was what I wanted. At least what I thought I wanted. But don’t you see? Somehow, we planned our whole lives, every stage carefully scoped out. It was all about what our lives should look like, but it was never about us—what we would mean to each other as we reached those milestones. Dreams are one thing, but it’s what you have with the person you’re building them with that counts.”

Max could hear her struggle against the tears, her constricted throat driving her pitch higher. “A friend reminded me that we’re not meant to know what’s coming. We’re meant to struggle and make decisions and fail and try again. And if we find someone who is willing to take that ride with us, so much the better, but taking it with the wrong person is never the right decision, no matter how right it looks on paper.”

His words from their first conversation rolled across the sand and settled at his feet. She had repeated what he’d said almost word for word. He remembered how she’d looked at him when he’d said them, as if he’d spoken to something deep inside her. Had that been the first connection? Was that the moment the two had begun to recognize each other? Why had she been able to recognize it so much sooner than he had?

“And who, may I ask, is this friend? It seems there’s someone you’ve been able to talk to about this, after all. Just not me.”

The bitterness was ill-disguised, and Max inched closer. He didn’t know Kyle, and although he was inclined to trust Liz’s judgment, he wasn’t going to take any chances on this guy hurting her.

She didn’t answer right away, but when she did, her soft-spoken words stabbed at his heart.

“Nobody, Kyle. Just somebody I met who I’ll never see again. You know how it is—confiding in a stranger feels so safe.”

Her voice caught, and it took all of Max’s control to keep from racing toward her and blurting out what a fool he was. He realized he’d inched his way behind a palm tree like the shameful eavesdropper he was, but he couldn’t leave.

To his relief, Kyle only sighed. “A stranger, huh? Well, I guess I would qualify then, too, wouldn’t I? Because I don’t know you at all, Liz. I only thought I did.”

There was movement from beneath the shadow of the small shelter that covered the underground passageway beneath the street. A well-built man, on the short side but exuding a graceful power, moved toward the steps, then turned, bathing his face in the streetlight. It was sad and hurting—anyone could see it. But it wasn’t dangerous or angry.

“Do me one favor, Liz?”

“Of course, Kyle.”

“Don’t tell everyone I proposed and you shot me down?” Kyle’s eyebrows shot up in a weak attempt at humor, and Max felt, rather than saw, how she relaxed at this. Maybe he really was a terrific guy. He just couldn’t be her guy. Thank heaven.

“Of course not, Kyle,” she assured him, stepping into the same small circle of light.

“And if it’s all the same to you, don’t come to my wrestling matches anymore, either. I think it’ll be easier if I don’t see you all that much.”

“I understand.” Liz stepped forward and kissed his cheek. Max winced as Kyle’s eyes closed against the wave of pain that washed over him at her touch. He could only imagine how it would feel to lose her. In fact, he didn’t have to imagine. It’s how he’d been feeling since last night, and he’d only known her two days. Kyle had invested years. Max could almost feel sorry for him.

With one final look of unutterable sadness, Kyle straightened his shoulders and began the lonely walk toward a very different life.

Now this was awkward. He couldn’t very well step out from behind the tree and announce himself. But he couldn’t let her disappear on him again either. So he stood watching her hug herself, face turned to the sky. He was beginning to recognize that as a personal habit of hers when she was trying to think things through. Eventually, she walked slowly down to the beach, wading into the water until it met her knees, and for a fleeting moment, Max was struck with the fear that she meant to keep walking.

But she didn’t. Instead, she just stood unmoving, except when a strong breaker buffeted her and she sidestepped to regain her balance. Max walked hesitantly toward her, wondering how to explain his presence, but as he watched her—a luminescent image drawing him ever closer—he knew he never wanted anything but truth between them again.


She turned abruptly, her eyes and mouth open wide in surprise. At first, there was welcome in her eyes; then he saw the warmth of greeting go cold.

“How do you know my name?”

Max braced himself, and took the first uncomfortable step toward total honesty. “I’ll tell you, but you have to hear the whole story or I’ll come out looking very sleazy.”

Her curiosity piqued, she arched an eyebrow and waited.

“I saw you go into the Doubletree last night, but you disappeared into the elevator before I could reach you. I would have followed you, but I had no idea where to start looking.”

“You couldn’t have come up anyway,” she said, an aloof quality to her voice. “You need a key after 7 p.m.”

Max smiled. “Well, that wasn’t really the problem, but I’ll explain that part later. Anyway, I spent the whole day in your lobby waiting for you to come down. I hung around so long that I thought they were going to call the cops, so I finally had to leave. Then I watched the main entrance to the hotel from the café next door. Finally, I came down to the beach to find you. But you weren’t there either. I’ve never felt so frustrated.”

She was listening. He thought he maybe even saw a softening in her attitude, but still, she waited.

“I felt like I was about to explode, so I just started running. Exercise is the only thing that calms me when I get really upset.” He took a few steps closer to her; she stood her ground.

“Anyway, I ran quite a way, I think.” He looked back over his shoulder to see the crowds of tourists in the distance, and realized he’d come even further than he thought. I stopped to catch my breath when I heard voices. At first, I was just trying not to intrude, but then I realized who was talking, and I . . . I listened.”

He couldn’t read her face, but he was sure he saw a flash of anger darken her features. “You were eavesdropping?” Her voice was low, controlled.

Max took another few steps, bringing him within a few feet of her. “Yes. Yes, I was. But before you condemn me for it, let me say one more thing. Last night, when we kissed, I . . . I can hardly describe what I was feeling. I don’t know if you can ever understand how alone I’ve felt—all my life, really. You were right when you said it was a secret that kept me alone, and I want to tell you what it is, but for now, just know that that kiss was the single most amazing moment of my life. For the first time, Liz, I didn’t feel alone. I felt like I’d finally found everything that was missing before, like the final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place.”

All of her reserve had fallen away now. She was watching him with shining eyes, hope poised on her expectant features even as her clenched hands braced for another disappointment.

“You asked me a question last night. You asked, ‘Is it you?’ And you thought because I was confused, the answer must be no. But Liz . . .” He closed the short distance between them and smoothed her fists until her hands were flat between his own. They were trembling and cold. “It was only because the answer was yes that I couldn’t answer. My mind, my body, my heart were in an uproar. Everything was on overload; I’ve never felt so full of anyone before. I couldn’t have told you my own name at that exact moment.”

One tear had escaped the fragile confines of her lashes and drifted slowly down her cheek. He reached to wipe it away, cupping her face and drawing a thumb tenderly across it.

“And what is your name?” she asked with a nervous laugh.

He smiled, feeling some of her tension ease away. “Max.”

“So, Max, tell me the answer now.”

Max gazed down into her moon-pale face and fell into the welcome depths of her eyes. “It’s yes, Liz. I am the one. I’m the one you’ve waited for, the one who will love you and fill your life with meaning. And I know that because that’s who you are to me.”

He saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes. “But you’ve never been aware of me. Before, I mean, like I have you . . . or whoever it is.”

“It’s me, Liz. I know it. I think we’ve just described the feelings differently. You’ve always felt me as a presence, you said, as someone you were waiting for. Really, it’s been no different for me. But I’ve been more aware of the void, I guess. I’ve always known something . . . someone . . . was missing from my life, and that I couldn’t be fully in this world without it. Perhaps, though, it’s because I’m not as open as you are. I’ve always had reasons to keep myself carefully hidden away, not letting others in.” He pulled her against him now, and she didn’t resist.

“I didn’t have the courage to feel you, I don’t think. I only felt what was missing, not what was waiting. But Liz, I’ve found you now. We’ve found each other, and I want nothing more than to let you in.”

She turned her face up to him, so open and hopeful now. He took her mouth, soft and warm as the ocean breeze, and she opened to him with a full heart. He could feel it so plainly now. How could he have been so shut down as to have missed this joyous presence? How could he wait a moment longer to share all of himself with her?

As if on cue, the flashes started—disjointed images of very different childhoods, schooling, relationships. They came in a dizzying rush, and she pulled back, wary again.


Uh-oh. He hadn’t known that was going to happen. He looked down at her, afraid of what he might see there. She didn’t look horrified so much as curious, her keen mind already formulating hypotheses.

“Maybe it’s time for us to talk about that secret,” she suggested, her eyes half-squinted with questions.

“What’s your major?” he asked unexpectedly.

She blinked. “Molecular biology. Why?”

He laughed out loud, a rich and rare sound. “I thought I detected a scientist at work.”

With one arm around her, he turned them back down the beach toward the noise and crowds and lights of spring break. “I will tell you everything, but let’s start with the easy stuff, okay? We’ll work our way up from there.”

She laughed, too, as anxious as he to lighten things up for a bit. Their brief time together had been nothing but melodrama, but when it came right down to it, all they knew about each other was first names.

“Favorite color,” she prompted.

“On me? Black. You?”

“Mmmm, burgundy, I think.”

“Oh yeah, I can definitely see that.”

“Ice cream flavor.”

“Cookie dough with Tabasco Sauce.”


Max squeezed her. “All will become clear, my Liz. Patience. You?”


“You’re kidding.”

And so it went for a mile of beach, a stop for ice cream, and an open-air concert. Oblivious to the curious and occasionally miffed glances that followed him, Max strolled easily in and among the throngs of spring breakers, enjoying all of the life and energy that had merely passed by him in the preceding days, never once losing contact with the beautiful, dark-haired reason for his newfound peace. It was hours later when, laughing for the hundredth time that night, Max realized that he was somewhere he’d never been before—at home in his own mind.

Max and Liz: The love that is Roswell--"You have gone through me like thread through a needle. Now everything I do is stitched with your color."

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Post by Carol000 » Thu Feb 05, 2004 8:50 pm

Their kisses had become heated, a passion flaring to life between them that burned their senses with its intensity. Liz groaned in protest when Max extracted himself and sat up. Back on the beach, this time armed with a large blanket, he had halted their banter with a kiss, and somewhere along the line, they forgot to stop.

“Max,” she breathed, and he felt himself pulled again into her sweet mouth.

“Wait,” he mumbled against her mouth. “Liz, . . .”

A shockwave spiraled through him as her hips lifted against him, and he tore his mouth away.


He remembered her conversation with Kyle. In all likelihood, she was a virgin, as was he. And even if that weren’t true, he couldn’t take this any further without telling her the most important difference about himself. That, and he had no protection with him . . . but that wasn’t the main thing, he reminded himself. They had to talk—some more.

Liz sat up next to him, breathing in short, shallow bursts, a question in her eyes. He gathered her to him.

“Oh, Liz, there’s still so much to tell.”

She nodded reluctantly. “I know.”

“I haven’t told you the secret.”

“You mean that thing about liking Tabasco on your ice cream wasn’t it? There’s more?”

He turned to her in alarm, but the laughter in her eyes made him laugh, too, and he gave her a squeeze and kissed her head.

“As bad as that is, there’s one more detail that might be relevant.”

“Okay.” She was serious now.

Max heaved a big sigh and gathered his courage.

“You asked me if I thought we were alone in the universe.”


“You’re not.”

A beat. “We’re not?”

“No, you aren’t. There are at least a few others, probably a lot more.”

“Okay. How do you know? Have you had a close encounter?” She straightened suddenly. “Are you an abductee? I’ve read about that! I’ve never known whether to believe it or not. Has that really happened to you?”

Max grimaced. “Not exactly. I guess I would have been doing the abducting, which I haven’t, of course.”

God, he was making a mess of this.

“Max, what are you talking about?”

He turned to her, his amber eyes pleading with her to listen, to understand. She stilled, sensing how important this was to him.

“Liz, I told you already that I had been abandoned in the desert at 6 years old and adopted, remember?”

She nodded.

“There’s a little more to it than that. I may or may not have been abandoned; it’s hard to say. But . . .”

He faltered, and she lifted up to give him a quick kiss. “It’s okay, Max. What is it?”

For some reason, an image of an angry Michael coming after him like a cannonball crossed his mind, and he flinched. Liz mistook his reaction as nervousness—which applied in any case—and tried to reassure him.

“Max, whatever it is, I’ll understand. I haven’t waited a lifetime to find you only to abandon you because of one story about your childhood.”

A corner of his mouth rose, a cross between humor and pain. “Don’t speak too soon. Okay. Liz? I am one of four aliens that emerged from pods left in the desert in 1947.”

It would be hard to imagine a face more blank than the one that stared at him now. It was so blank, in fact, Max wondered vaguely if it were possible to faint with your eyes open.

“That’s not funny,” she finally frowned.

“No, it’s not,” Max agreed. “But it’s true. The plain fact of the matter is, we don’t know where we’re from, and we don’t know why we’re here. No one knows about us, not even my parents. We’re afraid if anyone else finds out, the government or someone will want to study us like lab rats. But as far as we can tell, we’re also part human. Either that, or our own species is incredibly like humans.”

She was trying to digest this, still glancing at him for signs that this was all a joke. Deciding that he was dead serious, she started asking her questions.

“Then why tell me?”

How to answer her? “For the exact reason you already knew in your heart from the beginning. It was you.”

Her troubled features eased briefly, and her eyes softened. Then the serious expression fell into place again.

“How do you know you’re different? Do you have another . . . form?” She swallowed. Clearly, that possibility held some concern.

“Well, for one thing, my blood is different. The first time my mom took me to the doctor, they freaked about my blood. I already knew I was different, so I figured my blood must be different, too. They re-did the tests, but I was able to change the molecular structure of the sample before the technician sent it off, and they finally concluded something had contaminated the original sample.”

“You changed the molecular structure?”

The questions went on into the night. She asked, he answered. He demonstrated, she gaped. No holds barred. He put things into words he’d never even tried to before, and gradually relaxed along the way. She wasn’t going to bolt; she just wanted to know—everything. And even though he didn’t know everything, it felt good sharing like this, being able to talk freely without having his guard up, without fearing that one wrong word would bring his world to an end. As the sky lightened in preparation for a new day, the metaphor was not lost on her.

“The sun will be up soon,” she yawned, eyeing the bare definition of the horizon in the east. “I feel like it really is a new day, like the world I knew yesterday doesn’t even exist anymore.”

“So . . . are you okay with all this? I mean, you’re still here, but . . .”

“This? Is this all you’ve got? Some secret, Max. Personally, I think the thing about the Tabasco on the ice cream was worse.”

He squinted at her, bewildered, until she burst out laughing. Then she propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him, serious now. “I’m sorry I kept you talking all night,” she apologized. “You look so tired, but I just . . .”

He reached up quickly and pulled her into a kiss, gentle and open. “Don’t apologize. This night has been without a doubt the best of my life. You don’t know what it is to hide a secret like that from the world. It weighs on you constantly. It makes every move, every word a life-and-death decision. But now, you know, too. That’s a blessing for me, but I worry that it will be a burden for you. Now you have a secret. And Liz . . . it must stay a secret.”

“I know,” she smiled. “I’ve seen Starman.”

He laughed, but he could tell she had taken him seriously. He could read her so easily now, and it felt as if his soul was breathing and stretching for the first time.

“Will I get to meet the others, do you think?”

“Of course you will.” He stroked her hair, tucking it behind her ear just so he could enjoy the feel of it. “We’re all from Roswell. I’ve already told you all about Michael’s bumpy life, but we’ve been roommates at Northwestern all four years. I’ll introduce you tomorrow. Uh . . . make that later today.”

“Mm hmmm. Okay.” Liz nuzzled his neck, leaving little feathery kisses that made his skin tingle. His eyes rolled back in their sockets and he blinked rapidly, trying to finish his thought.

“Isabel and Tess were raised as sisters by this well-meaning but odd couple who own the UFO Center,” he breathed, reacting quickly and strongly to her touch. “Talk about irony. It’s a hoot, actually. Milton and Sarah are true believers in aliens, but I think they’d die on the spot if they knew they’d raised two of them—oh my god, Liz!”

Her small cool hands were running circles across his chest, and his body was coming to life in embarrassing ways. Ways that had become apparent to her already.

“Max.” It was a whispered puff of air close by his ear scattering chills wildly through his system. Her hand grazed his length, and he felt it as sharply as if there weren’t two layers of fabric between them. He flipped her roughly and shoved her tank top up over her breast where he descended to tease it with his lips and tongue. Mumbling incoherently, he lost himself in her, encouraged by her writhing and the small helpless sounds that spilled from her lips with each breath.

Then another sound touched the fringes of his consciousness, and he covered her with a single tug on her top. The early morning joggers were already making an appearance, grunting monosyllabic greetings as they passed each other. This was no longer a place for lovers. Besides, they still had a few things to work out. Like the part where she wouldn’t make love to Kyle until they were married.

“Liz, we can’t do this. Not here. Not now.”

She sighed reluctantly, giving his ear one last nip for good measure. The roar of sand-sweepers was rumbling down the beach. She sighed, squinting against the first rays of sunlight.

“I know. But promise me, we’ll pick up where we left off later.”

Nothing could have kept the smile from his face at her words. This was absolutely the best day of his life. “I promise. How about we catch a few hours of sleep first, and I’ll meet you for lunch at Sloppy Joe’s?”

Her husky voice sent his heart racing. “I have a better idea.”


There are defining moments in life when one decision starts you down a path toward the unknown. Max Evans had made one of those decisions hours ago when he divulged his darkest secret to a woman he had only known for 36 hours. Yet something inside him had opened in those hours—something brave and sure and life-affirming. Now, looking down into eyes that held his future, he saw himself in a whole new light—not something hideous, unlovable. No, what he saw reflected in a mirror of warm brown was special, unique, loved. It was a feeling beyond expression, a revelation beyond imagination.

“This is happening so fast. Aren’t you scared?”

Her eyes crinkled in response, turning up at the corners to match her confident smile. They were laying on his bed where they had collapsed in loving exhaustion just as dawn turned to day. Unwilling to part, even for a few hours of sleep, she had pulled him from the scene of their all-night heart-to-heart and told him she couldn’t sleep unless he was with her. It had been music to his ears. He was trying so hard not to rush her, scare her. But she was laying all his fears to rest, and now, after the most peaceful sleep in years, they had awakened to new lives in each other’s arms.

“I’ve known you my whole life, Max. It was only a matter of recognizing which body you were living in,” she told him with an honesty that humbled him. Then her fingers dragged lightly across his chest and her tone changed. “I must say, it’s a very nice one.”

The certainty in her voice gave him new confidence. For now. He found that his confidence ebbed and flowed like the ocean—one minute he was feeling euphoric and full of hope, the next he could imagine her coming to her senses and running from him in fear or disgust. Yet her tenderness and faith didn’t falter, and he was slowly letting himself believe.

His train of thought was shattered when her hands continued their exploration, setting his nerves on alert, sensitive to the slightest touch. He felt himself harden almost instantaneously, and his sudden blush slowed her hands.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Max?”

“Yes,” he answered her, leaning in to nuzzle her cheek. “Very. But in a good way.”

She smiled against his hair. “So much the better,” she murmured.

Smiles evaporated as the heat between them built quickly. Remembering clearly where he was when the dawn interrupted his fevered discovery of her body, he pushed the tank top up under her arms and gloried in the smooth mounds with their rose tips, hardening under his intense gaze. Driven by a fever of her own, Liz arched toward him, inviting, begging him to take them. And take them he did; with a tortured moan he slid a hand up to cup her right breast, and descended hungrily on her left, teasing the already stiff nipple into a rigid peak.

She fumbled with his t-shirt, pushing it aside carelessly until her hands found the warm promise of his skin and the powerful definition of his muscular chest and abdomen. The second her hand touched his waistband, though, he froze as words from last night echoed in his mind, and he took her wrist and gently lifted it away.

“What’s wrong, Max?” She looked hurt, nervous, and he swooped down to kiss her uncertainty away.

“Nothing’s wrong, my love. But I think we’d better talk about one more thing before this goes any further.”


Last night, when I heard your conversation with Kyle . . .”

“Oh yes. I forgot about that. My very own stalker,” she scolded with affection.

“Liz, he said something that . . . well, it surprised me a little. And I can’t, in all good conscience, let this go on until I understand your feelings.”

“What, Max?”

“He said he’d promised to put sex off until you were married. And he was right about very few guys making a promise like that. Are you . . . I mean, have you . . .?

“I’m a virgin, Max.”

A virgin. She’d never slept with anyone else. She had saved herself for someone she wasn’t even sure existed. For him. Tears stung his eyes, and her face blurred to a soft glow.

“Thank God.” The words rushed from him without thought, surprising him as much as they did her.

“Would it have made a difference if I weren’t?” she asked, studying him.

With a shake of his head, a tear found its freedom and landed on her shoulder. “No. I mean, it wouldn’t have changed how I love you. But this . . . this is something I didn’t dare hope for. I . . . I feel like you’ve given me an incredible gift.”

Their eyes met, full of meaning and intent. Then he tore his away, stumbling over his next words. “I mean, I’m not saying that I expect you to make love to me right away. I just think we should . . . you know . . . talk about our expectations. I don’t want to hurt you or rush you. I’ll wait, Liz. As long as you want. But if that’s how you want it, we have to be careful. You do crazy things to me. My body responds to you so fast, so . . . urgently. I’m not sure I could stop after a certain point.”

He realized he was talking to the bedspread and she had said nothing. He lifted his eyes, searching her face for some kind of reaction. She was biting her lip, and he couldn’t tell if that was a sign of irritation, sadness, or worry.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said unexpectedly.


At this, she laughed softly. “Now that you mention it, that should have been a pretty big clue, don’t you think? All those years with Kyle, and I never felt ready to give myself to him. Two days with you and I’m in your bed doing my level best to seduce you. If that’s not some kind of message, I don’t know what is.”

“Are you saying . . .?”

At this, Liz pushed him back down on the bed and rose up to straddle him, pulling the tank top over her head and stretching with slow, languid grace, boldly offering herself to him. Then she lowered herself against his chest and her tongue tickled his ear. Her words, whispered so softly, found their way through the roar in his head.

“Make love to me, Max.”

His arms flew around her, crushing her to him, and he took her mouth with the wanton desire built over years of loneliness and pain. She poured herself into him, filling the empty spaces of his heart even as she took from him the healing of her own soul. In this moment, what was between them was not physical; it was a spiritual exchange, a mutual give and take that would leave them both whole for the first time in their lives.

Overwhelmed, Liz pulled back and looked down at Max adoringly. “I can’t believe I’ve found you,” she sobbed, and fell against him, letting the emotion flow freely. She seemed so fragile now. From self-assured woman to vulnerable child, she had just given him another gift—her trust.

And with that gift, Max felt ready to tackle the last of his concerns. He stiffened in spite of himself, and she rose up again to look at his face, smiling with embarrassment.

“Sorry. I seem to cry a lot around you.”

Max shook his head and wiped away the last of the tears. “Don’t ever hide what you’re feeling from me, Liz. I’ve waited too long to just be myself with someone. I want you to share, too. Completely.”

She nodded, still self-conscious. “So what else is on your mind, Max?”

He grinned. “Damn, that’s just spooky.”

She grinned back. “Out with it.”

Of their own accord, his hands began to cup her breasts, enjoying the supple weight of them, and he felt her shudder with pleasure. With an iron will, he dropped his hands, and she opened her eyes in surprise.

“Out with it fast!” she ordered.

Blowing out a long, steadying breath, he delved into his last worry. And it was a biggie.

“Liz, I’m an alien.”

“Yeah, we covered that.” She began to move her hips in small circles across his erection, and he could feel her moisture penetrating his shorts in a hot, erotic massage.

“Liz! You have to listen! I don’t know what might happen when I . . . if we . . .”

He pressed his head furiously into the pillow and gritted his teeth. She had stopped her motion, seeing his distress. Determined, he spit it out in a rush. “Liz, I’m a virgin, too. I don’t know if this will be entirely normal or not. I’ve never done it before. And besides, I have no protection. As much as I love you, this is hardly a reasonable point in our lives for a pregnancy. This was just the last thing I was expecting. I haven’t even got anything in the room!”

A slow smile spread across her face, and he lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s funny?”

“Max, you’re 22 and on spring break in Ft. Lauderdale, and it never once occurred to you to buy condoms?”

He looked away, embarrassed. “No, it didn’t. I’m not here for quick thrills.”

“I love you.”

His eyes jerked back to hers, and he realized how his confession had pleased her. Then she surprised him again.

“And your roommate. Is he here for quick thrills?”

Max’s eyes flew wide. “Yes!” He pushed her rather unceremoniously to the bed and ran from his side of the suite, through the living room, and into Michael’s room, where the disheveled mound of covers shifted in protest. Ignoring the subtle objection, Max pulled open the nightstand drawer. Empty. Flying into the bathroom, he went through more drawers. There were tubes and bottles he didn’t even recognize, but no condoms. Back in Michael’s room, he lunged for the dresser. Bingo.

“What the hell . . .?”

Two thin slits peered from under a blanket. “Get out,” they growled. Then one eye popped open; the other followed suit, and a snort of laughter rumbled from under the covers.

“Looks like it’s too late for those, man.”

Max looked down, blushing to his roots when he saw the wet stain on the front of his shorts. Then the eyes in the bed noticed how the stain was tented, and realization dawned.

“Oh, I see. Have fun, my friend.”

Then, as Max headed for the door, box in hand, another whispered voice—of the female persuasion—stopped him cold. “Tell him to leave one behind,” it said.

“Oh, good call. Max! Leave one of those over here, will ya?”

Max hesitantly returned to the bedside and set down two foil packages.

“Thanks,” said a cute but mussed little blond, emerging to pluck one from its perch. Then she was gone, burrowing back under the covers with a giggle.

Max stumbled, eager but confused, back to his room. Michael never let girls stay over. That was his rule. In and out, but no one stayed all night. He would have to hear that explanation later. Much later.

Max and Liz: The love that is Roswell--"You have gone through me like thread through a needle. Now everything I do is stitched with your color."

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Post by Carol000 » Thu Feb 05, 2004 8:51 pm

All thoughts flew from his mind when he entered his bedroom. Liz was lying naked—completely, gloriously naked—on his bed, her cheeks flushed, that luxuriant hair spread out on his pillow, her hands resting lightly on her breasts. He felt the strain against his shorts and felt the first drops of pre-cum ooze from him. There was a very strong possibility that this was going to be over before it began.

He moved slowly toward her, mesmerized by the way her molten eyes watched his every move. They slid down his body, resting on the blatant evidence of his passion. A reflexive twitch against the intolerable fabric sent him into motion. He reached to shed what was left of his clothes, fumbling with the button and zipper, unwilling to break their gaze to look down at what he was doing.

She moistened her lips and let her legs fall open ever so slightly. Finally free of his clothes, he began to climb onto the bed when her small voice stopped him.

“Wait,” she whispered hoarsely, raking her eyes over him. Something flashed in her eyes just before they darkened, and Max realized he wasn’t breathing. She rose slowly, crawling across the bed toward him, taking in every detail of his body, and he thought for a brief moment that he might pass out.

She was a vision, a goddess, all the more tantalizing because she truly didn’t know what she was doing to him. She was curiosity and fire, an innocent and a seductress, and he didn’t think it was possible to feel more alive, more in love than he did at this moment.

Her hand reached for him, tentatively exploring the new textures of a new world. His cock leapt, stung by the electricity of her touch, and he reacted by pulling her up to face him and plunging into her mouth, a small, temporary relief against the urging of his body.
She whimpered, tiny sounds of surrender that drove him crazy. He lowered them to the bed, and pulled back to look at her, already mussed and swollen with his kisses. How could this be happening?

“I love you, Liz. I know this whole thing seems crazy, so sudden, but now that I’ve found you, it feels so right. So . . .”

She pulled him down to her and wriggled against him, working toward a joining that neither had shared before—ancient and instinctive, and yet somehow only for them.

He slid to one side, gradually recalling all the things he had ever read or seen to coach him through an event he hadn’t been sure he would ever experience. But this was a first—for both of them—and he had no doubts his climax would be powerful and quick. Hell, he was almost there now. But she was a different story. She needed more time, more attention. He wanted to give her the same pleasure, to make her feel even some of what he was feeling. The thought calmed him enough to concentrate on his new focus.

Slipping naturally into his role, he bent to suckle on one rock hard nipple as his hand slid easily into the moist folds between her legs. She parted them, welcoming and eager, and he heard her moan become a gasp when his slick fingers skimmed over the firm bundle of nerves he was looking for. He’d been a little afraid he wouldn’t find it, actually, but it had found him, almost reaching for his touch, and his blood raced a little faster at the thought.

So intent on pleasuring her, Max started violently when he felt her small hand encircle his erection, testing its length and firmness with tender strokes and squeezes.

“God, Liz! I’ll cum in seconds if you keep doing that,” he panted. “You’re killing me. I want you so much . . .” The rest of his thought melted into a low keening sound when her fingers circled his velvet tip, spreading the thick drops that were seeping freely now.

“Can I taste it?” she asked hesitantly. “I’ve heard girls say it’s salty, and men like it when . . .”

He growled as he stopped her hand’s erotic motion. “Next time,” was all he got out before he coaxed her back against the pillows.

“It has to be now, Liz, or I’ll lose it, I swear. I just can’t hold out.”

She reached for the foil packet, and he shook with the effort of holding still as she sheathed him. Peeking down through barely open eyes, even he was amazed at the size of his cock. His fantasies had been vivid on occasion, but never had he grown like this. Watching her, he swore under his breath, and vowed again to slow down. She needed more time.

She leaned back again and began to pull him down toward her, watching wide-eyed when he slipped down the bed and settled between her legs.

“Max?” It was a question and a plea. He answered her, his mouth borrowing gently into the wet secrets of her center, thrilling to her surprised gasp of pleasure when his tongue ran lazily up and down, circling her sensitive nub one moment, penetrating her the next. She began to writhe and moan with abandon, a litany of incoherent pleasure punctuated only by one repeated prayer. “Max, oh Max, oh Max!”

Max felt her release pulse hard against his mouth, and he sucked her harder, bringing her to the brink of a scream before she fell limp against him. Opening his eyes, he drew in a quick breath. Never had he seen anything so beautiful. She was flushed and liquid, eyes closed as the tremors continued to race through her body. Sated. Satisfied. Still.

Sleeping? Oh no, please God, no.

The eyes fluttered open, and the love that shone from them pulled at his heart. This was most certainly heaven, because nothing . . . absolutely nothing could top this.

“Love me, Max.”

Okay, he was wrong. Her words sent his heart soaring to new heights, and he knew his moment had come. He stretched out over her and felt her folds close around him, leading him home. At her entrance, he hesitated, stopping to kiss her gently and thoroughly, enjoying how their tongues stirred the tastes of her together into one perfect nectar.

“This might hurt, Liz, but I can stop that from happening. I can take the pain away.”

She took a deep breath. “No, Max. This is our first time. Let’s make it a proper first time.”

“Are you sure?”

She answered with a thrust of her hips, and he slid into her. He closed his eyes, trying to regain his equilibrium as the heightened sensations of being encased in her overwhelmed his ability to process them. Clawing his way from the fog, he opened his eyes to see if she was feeling it, too. She was, her expression awed at the intimate sharing. But still, he could see the vaguest hint of trepidation hiding there, too.

Eyes locked, he eased his way home, hesitating when he reached the final barrier. They didn’t speak, his question and her answer exchanged in wordless communion. Bending to capture her soft cry with his kiss, he penetrated her.

They gasped together, unsure what was happening. Something had opened between them, like a door, locked and neglected for too long, suddenly flung wide in a flood of light. It was blinding and warm, an Eden of sensation and intimate knowledge—not just sexual, but deep, thorough knowledge. A knowledge of the soul. Doubts and insecurities wilted under its intensity, and a bond was forged, connecting them as surely as the strongest steel chain.

Max was overwhelmed, euphoric. He couldn’t find his voice amidst the ragged breathing—his, hers, theirs. Then finally, “Liz! Are you okay? Did you feel that?”

She nodded, tears falling back into her hair, darkening the pillowcase. She clung to him then, and they held each other, shaking with unprecedented joy. As the moments ticked by, though, the needs of their bodies called to them again, and the soft rhythm of their lovemaking escalated into a desperate and urgent cadence. They came together again and again, reaching for this first resolution of their mutual need.

A long, low moan was his first clue that she was on the brink; then her pulsating walls were squeezing him, massaging him, pulling from him the final element of their ultimate bonding. He burst inside her, and the very last bits of his carefully built walls shattered. It was done. He was hers. She was his. They would forever belong only to each other.

They didn’t know how long they lay there, trembling together, holding on until the world stopped spinning. Finally, Max separated himself from her, keenly aware that the old emptiness didn’t return, even now that their physical bond was broken. She was a part of him now, permanently imprinted on his heart, his soul.

“Do you think that was normal, or not?” she asked shakily.

A grin broke out on Max’s face, gleaming with perspiration. “I have no point of comparison,” he admitted, “but I’m inclined to think that may have been a little beyond the norm.”

She nodded against his chest. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

She sounded so small, timid.

“Are you feeling alright, Liz? Are you sore?”

“A little, I guess. But I do know that that’s normal.” She lifted her head and kissed his cheek.

“Normal, maybe. Necessary, no.”

He reached down and caressed her lower abdomen. She watched, amazed, as his hand exuded a rich golden glow and a slight tingle subsided into soothing warmth.

“Thanks,” she smiled up at him. The soreness gone, she moved against his hand, and like dry tinder, they ignited. This time, they took time for exploration and discovery, learning which touches elicited gasps or moans, which moments called for gentleness and which for controlled roughness. And as their bodies came to know each other, a sense of belonging enfolded them. They had come home.

The afternoon stretched into early evening. They made love, dozed, showered, and made love again.

“I never want to leave this room,” Max sighed. “All I’ll ever need is right here.”

His stomach chose that moment to object vociferously to this point of view, and Liz giggled as her own stomach agreed. Apparently, Max had forgotten one essential element—food.

“Well, I may have spoken prematurely,” he said, his tone teasing. “We can’t very well go on expending all this energy without refueling.”

Liz nodded enthusiastically. “I’m starved. I just didn’t know it until you mentioned food.”

Max swung himself out of bed and turned with an exaggerated bow, a comical picture of naked dignity. “Come, milady. Chef Max will create an elegant repast for his lusty wench.”

Liz laughed in delight, and jumped up to take his arm. Halfway to the door, Max paused. “I suppose the safest thing to do is to put some clothes on. Michael and who knows who else could walk into the kitchen at any time.”

“Maybe we should ask him to join us.”

At Max’s look of shock, she hooted with laughter. “For dinner, Max. Dinner!”

“I knew that,” he mumbled sheepishly, reaching for his shorts. Before he could grab his t-shirt, though, Liz preempted him by slipping it over her head. It settled sexily off one shoulder and covered her to mid-thigh. Max’s eyes darkened instantly, and he pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely.

“How do you do that? Just turn me on at the drop of a hat? I love having my shirt draped on you like that,” he growled. “T’would that it were me.”

He felt himself getting aroused all over again, and he wondered idly if they were setting a new world’s record. Over the sounds of the heavy breathing, another rumble of protest announced renewed objections, and they parted. She rubbed against him with a sultry look. “It was you. And it will be again . . . after you feed me.”

His mouth quirked in humor, then dipped to kiss her again, lightly this time. “You look incredibly sexy.”

“I am incredibly sexy,” she teased boldly. “Just ask my boyfriend.”

“Hold that thought,” Max breathed against her forehead. Then, under tight control, they ventured into the living area.

The sun was still a bright reflection on the ocean, though the street and much of the beach were in shadow. On the couch were two dozing figures; Michael was slouched against the back of the couch, chin resting against a small blond head tucked comfortably under his arm. The television flashed with a video collage of basketball plays, but the volume was turned so low, they could barely hear it.

“That’s Michael,” Max whispered unnecessarily.

“Yeah, I figured. Whose the girl?”

“No idea. But she was in Michael’s bed this morning when I ran in there . . .” He broke off, embarrassed. He hadn’t told her he’d had to break in on Michael sleeping with a girl in order to get his hands on those condoms. Liz eyed him with amusement.

“I hope they were asleep, at least.”

He grimaced, and her eyes flew wide. “Max! They saw you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think they cared. But what’s weird is, Michael never lets girls stay all night, let alone into the next day. This is a first, and I can’t wait to find out what’s up.”

Padding to the refrigerator, he stooped to survey their choices for dinner. “Let’s see, we can have a cheese omelet or ice cubes with mustard.”

He stood, looking at her seriously as if waiting for a decision. She caught his playful mood.

“Mmmm, well, I had ice yesterday, so how about the omelet.”

“A fine choice,” he agreed, taking out the necessary ingredients.

As he broke the eggs, she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “But after we’ve burned up these calories, we’re going out for pizza.”

He grinned at her, happily aware of how they would be burning off this snack.

The aroma of eggs bubbling in a hot pan roused the two sleeping forms on the couch. The blond sat up groggily and graced Michael with a sleepy smile. Michael, still frowning, nonetheless dropped a kiss on her head before struggling to his feet. Liz ducked into the bathroom, and Max followed her retreating figure with a quizzical expression.



“Petite and dark-haired. Is that her?”

A brilliant smile lit his face. “Yeah.”

“So I didn’t dream your running into my room this morning and making off with all the condoms?”

Pink spread across Max’s features then, but the smile didn’t fade.

“Uh, no. Sorry.”

“I doubt very much that you’re sorry,” Michael smirked. “So how was your first time?”

Max threw him a threatening glare and glanced toward the bathroom door.

“Don’t you embarrass her, Michael, or I’ll . . .” He felt no need to finish the sentence, but Michael’s smirk remained firmly in place.

The blond slid onto a barstool. “Mmmm. Smells good. I’m Maria. You must be Max.”

“I am. Nice to meet you, Maria.”

Relieved to trade places by putting Michael in the hot seat, Max turned the questions on his friend.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Expecting Michael to answer, Max swung around in surprise when Maria started talking.

“We met on your first night in town,” she said, throwing a slightly reproving glance at Michael. “And every night since. But loverboy here was too busy playing the field to admit what was happening.”

Max looked from Maria to Michael and back to Maria. “And what was happening?”

Maria slid off the barstool and wrapped an arm around Michael’s waist. “Something amazing.”

Max arched an eyebrow. This pronouncement alone should have been enough to prompt Michael to send her packing, but instead he looked down on her with a tenderness Max had never seen from his restless friend, and then up at Max with an expression bordering on guilt. The smirk was gone.

Michael was saved from making any comment of his own by Liz’s hesitant reappearance. Emerging from the bathroom, she smiled uncertainly at Michael, and Max would have bet money that she had added a pair of shorts to her outfit, though he couldn’t see them from under the long t-shirt. Seeing her self-consciousness, he reached for her hand and pulled her into the kitchen next to him.

“Michael, Maria, this is Liz.”

“Hey, Liz,” Maria smiled.

Michael merely nodded, looking vaguely surprised at the intense and intimate look Liz exchanged with his best friend.

The eggs began to snap and spatter, ready for the cheese. “You guys can have this one, and I’ll make another one,” Max offered.

Minutes later, the four were seated around the table. Liz watched Max dribble Tabasco sauce on his eggs with mild disbelief, but when Michael did the same, Maria wasn’t so subtle.

“What the hell are you doing to your eggs?”

“We like ‘em this way,” Michael shrugged.

Maria looked to Liz for support. “Is that disgusting, or what?”

Liz grinned at Max, and his heart gave a little squeeze of joy. He didn’t have to hide from her. She knew it all, and accepted it. She knew it all, and loved him. It was nothing short of miraculous.

“He’s always done that,” she said casually.

Michael’s head snapped up and he looked from Liz to Max.

“Wow, you guys must’ve known each other a long time,” Maria observed.

“All our lives,” Liz answered, looking back to Max, eyes suddenly misted with tears.

And he knew it was true.

Max and Liz: The love that is Roswell--"You have gone through me like thread through a needle. Now everything I do is stitched with your color."

starlescia maxwell
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Posts: 3
Joined: Thu Mar 08, 2007 10:56 pm
Location: richland wash 99352

Re: Fics by Carol000

Post by starlescia maxwell » Mon Apr 27, 2009 9:07 pm

Hi , May i use your name, Carol/Spacemom i have read all of your storys over and over, i always find something new and

wonderful, i am very happy to find your storys here on this site, i just wanted you to know just how wonderful your storys

are to me, now i 'll leave and go read some more, but pls keep writing, i'll keep on reading

thank you---------

starlescia maxwell
starlescia maxwell

starlescia maxwell
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 3
Joined: Thu Mar 08, 2007 10:56 pm
Location: richland wash 99352

Re: Fics by Carol000

Post by starlescia maxwell » Mon Apr 27, 2009 9:07 pm

Hi , May i use your name, Carol/Spacemom i have read all of your storys over and over, i always find something new and

wonderful, i am very happy to find your storys here on this site, i just wanted you to know just how wonderful your storys

are to me, now i 'll leave and go read some more, but pls keep writing, i'll keep on reading

thank you---------

starlescia maxwell
starlescia maxwell

Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 1
Joined: Sun Jul 09, 2017 7:51 am

Re: Fics by Carol000

Post by Annamarie61 » Tue Nov 28, 2017 5:55 am

Carol, your writing is spectacular!! Thirteen or 14 years have passed since your Roswell stories were written. Have you continued writing? Could you direct me to other stories? Lynne

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