Wring Around the White Roses (M/L + CC) Updated 6/26

This is the place to post all your General Roswell fanfiction. Any Canon fics, which pick up directly from any episode of the show and that focus on Max/Liz, Michael/Maria, Isabel/Alex or Isabel/Jesse, Kyle/Tess, or all the couples together! Rule of Thumb: If Max healed Liz in the Crashdown in September 1999, then your fic belongs here. If it picks up from the show in any way, it belongs here.

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lizparkerevans07
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Wring Around the White Roses (M/L + CC) Updated 6/26

Postby lizparkerevans07 » Sun Apr 30, 2017 2:26 pm

Title: Wring Around the White Roses

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own any of Roswell's beautiful characters. They're owned by Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, 20th Century Fox, etc.

Summary: This takes place straight after "Sexual Healing." Tess Harding comes to town much sooner than original show. She implants seeds of doubt and insecurity in Liz Parker's mind, wanting to remove competition from her "rightful" place in the heart of Antar's beautiful, shy king, Maxwell Evans.....

Pairings: Max and Liz, other CC

Rating: M for future sexual content.

Hi everyone. I have been lurking here for a while, as a reader primarily, and have finally decided to post a fic of my own, especially considering that the 15th anniversary of Roswell's final episode is coming up. I'm in my feelings. So this is my very first fanfiction with another one on the horizon as well. I solemnly swear to update a few times a week, stay focused, keep this story away from being placed in Dead and Buried (believe me there are some great fics in that section!). Feedback would be so wonderfully appreciated.


Onto.....



"Wring Around the White Roses"


Prologue

Storms were more than casual disturbances in the atmosphere. Sometimes, a natural form of cosmic rapture brewed inside separate bodies on fated course to collide together, to create friction, to burst free.
After late evening brought apart momentous change, including a tough discussion between two passion struck teenagers and their concerned yet disappointed parents, the pair feigned parting ways, with little thought to severe punishments. On her balcony, sly sneaking rebels still had desire conquering their red-blooded spirits, warring its fiery presence over their charged senses, scorching their feverish joined fingers, burning their twisted hot tongues and invested greedy lips. They were so sure that the alien side of chemistry was over, that only burgeoning young love remained the reason for union. Soon, fatigued bones yearned for unconsciousness, for sweet rest to temporarily dampen hormonal flames. They stole a few more glorious goodbye kisses promising more simmering below the surface, a teasing calm before tumultuous New Mexico weather erupted midnight havoc.
Thus, booming thunder came hours later, disturbing solemn peacefulness, sonorous chaotic ruckus mixing with wheezing fits of strong, vital wind. Heavy rain let out wet, sloshing rhythm, beating a drenched symphony among sleeping streets. Crackled lightning flashed, bright and quick, striking trees and tall buildings with powerful, jagged bolts.
A lone woman tossed and turned, centered in a modest sized bed, moaning softly in weighty slumber, demure fists clutching flannel sheets, beads of sweat a glistening invitation on her radiant golden tanned skin. She, who had spent previous night underneath cloak of desert stars and strong, protective arms, was half of the striking pair caught up in awakened passion. Soft, melodious moans were quite a sensual escape from one residing in a bedroom of childhood play toys and award winning trophies with science posters taped to lilac walls. Her short panted breaths showed signs of fast maturity, a dawning of something tender and pleasurable to ravenous flesh.
However, if she were to open her eyes, she would realize she wasn’t alone.
On the balcony, near the window, was not this Juliet’s handsome, otherworldly Romeo savior.
This new stranger stood, eyes closed, brows contorted, concentrating features determined, set on making another kind of storm, a more violent sort…
*****
Silver steam bowl of luscious, red strawberries crashed hard on the tiled floor, making sharp intrusion. Its loud metallic echo failed to reach her ears. By then, drowned by stolen heart’s turbulent humming, he had grabbed her lithe body rather possessively, taking brutal hostage of her lips and tongue, giant hands brusquely wandering over teal, form fitting uniform. Her tentative hands traced brown leather jacket, soon sliding to t-shirt underneath, cupping strong, sinewy muscles moving like eloquent poetry under reddening open palms. They kissed and kissed, exploring scorching nature of uninhibited passion, making hot noises in an otherwise silent realm. Lustful intentions in the back kitchen, among scattered tin pots and pans and fast food’s signature deep fryer, heated tight space between young lovers blossoming beneath glittery haze of forbidden temptation.
Her weakening legs wrapped around his waist as he roughly shoved her against the aluminum countertop, his mouth never pausing in ravaging hers. His growing need beckoned, called out to her, wanting to grasp hold of her precious innocence.
Yet she couldn’t stay her mother’s little girl forever.
“Uhhhh,” she gasped as he mauled her neck, alternating lavish licks and gentle bites. She held him imprisoned, shaking and shivering from her first rush of orgasmic bliss. Unorthodox rupture made stars burst from behind her blackening vision, an uncharted cluster of vivid intensity mirroring new sensations he was awakening inside.
Scenery changed.
She no longer wore work uniform. Instead, her body was clad in rich, gossamer satin, a spaghetti strap lavender night gown with lacy mesh adorned risqué v line, exposing creamy flesh of neck and accentuated modest décolletage.
He stood beside her, dressed in the devil’s black, hungrily devouring her nape.
Suddenly, full, pliant lips paused.
His arms lifted her to the thin railing, suspending her with great power, then floating up beside her. She didn’t know he levitated.
“Jump,” he whispered in her ear, nibbling the soft lobe.
Her downcast eyes peering over horizon’s edge of her beloved balcony.
And thus, she did as he demanded, plummeting to the ground, no further questions asked.
******
She gasped, rising, cotton pillows slightly askew. Her thick brown hair wrapped its wondrous length protectively across her shoulders, shielding vulnerable beauty of heart shaped face from dangers shaping a most disturbing dream.
Tess Harding smiled at her future victim, her first intended kill.
She would destroy the feeble little mouse standing in her way. All she had to do was crush fragile bones into her paws like a satisfied cat playing with its dead prey.
“You’ll most definitely die, Liz Parker,” Tess snarled, leaping off the ladder and racing into the pouring rain with much purpose.....
Last edited by lizparkerevans07 on Mon Jun 26, 2017 8:30 pm, edited 3 times in total.

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lizparkerevans07
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Re: Wring Around the White Roses

Postby lizparkerevans07 » Sun May 07, 2017 7:55 am

Disclaimer: Mentions of episodes "Sexual Healing," "Pilot," "Independence Day," "Toy House," and "Blind Date."

Chapter 1: Seven Days, 168 Hours, 10,800 Minutes Til Crash

Max Evans freely unleashed his goofy grin in the darkness of his bedroom, absentmindedly staring up at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head, dressed in only a white tank and blue plaid boxers. The first woman he ever slept with, albeit not sexually, was beyond epitome of his fantasy dreams. He had truly held tight beautiful Elizabeth Claudia Parker in the cool, peaceful outdoors. They really had lie fully clothed together upon desert ground, her head on his chest, his arms around her lithe waist. She had provided the most supreme comfort, a most surreal security that he had rarely felt in presence of another being. Her fragrance like succulent fruit surrounded his aroused senses, her beautiful brown hair tickled and taunted, stimulating his unbridled passion.
Twenty-four hours later, that wondrous bliss lulled him, stirred his quiet pensiveness.
He never imagined that the girl he treasured since third grade would allow him to touch her, to be near her, to let him kiss her with abandon, let alone trust him enough to fall asleep in his arms. Back in pivotal September, treacherous, life-threatening bullet hit her pliant stomach and sought to drain her life’s precious blood, forcing his palm’s concentration on broken molecules, patching up her damaged cells, taking away her pain, multiplying his secret feelings. In that intensely unexpected moment, between memory visions and interlocked eyes, they had become one being, connected by near tragic experience, their essences inexplicably intertwined. Prior, he only knew of fixing healed kneecaps, broken bird wings, and Hank’s abuse to his best friend, Michael Guerin. To bring his secret love back from brink of death brought forth courage. There had been no hesitancy in using his gift to save her.
Yet consequences came aplenty.
She hadn’t run away in fear of his alien origin. She embraced it, wrote about it privately.
Without even having to read her journal, he knew her thoughts, her feelings. At first, it scared him. He saw himself in wide expressive chocolate brown eyes, glazed over, unblinking, with a pleasingly opened mixture of awe, purity, and affection whenever she looked his way. She wanted more than what he offered, her yearning apparent, calling out to him in the hallways, the classrooms, at the Crashdown. It took earnest effort not to usher her into the infamous eraser room and have his way with her in between homeroom and biology.
Their first make out session on her balcony still immensely pleased him; the tentative touching of her luscious locks, the warm feel of her soft, rosy cheeks underneath his large palms, the urgent pressing of her ruby red lips against his desperate ones. That had been his first kiss, his initiated introduction to soulful bonding between man and woman. Discovery had been better than anticipated, that long sultry kiss escalating to sensual perusal as a melodious Gomez song filtered through her stereo speakers. After foolishly breaking things off with added inclusion of her anguished ladder kiss, he held onto sacred memories as though they procured sustenance necessary for his earthly survival. Those thoughts soothed on vilest days, especially on torturous occasions of seeing Liz speaking with her ex-boyfriend Kyle Valenti. The pep rally incident from weeks ago had nearly killed him, watching her stand up from the bleachers, scream his name, and cheer him on. Which then of course caused the star basketball player to become distracted and hurt....
Max knew all too well about what kind of distraction Liz Parker could be.
That night of Max’s succumbing, he had only come to the Crash to make sure he and Liz could reengage their friendship, that they could get past his drunken erratic behavior destroying her radio show sponsored blind date. He truly meant it, when saying, “I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
He did.
He had, after all, vandalized her brick wall and recklessly revealed alarming displays of jealousy.
Yet when his eyes saw her hunched over knocked down strawberries, startled, staring at him as though he were a captivating prince of a wondrous faraway galaxy, he lost moral reasoning. As her delicious scented perfume bewitched his flaring nostrils, he reveled in her closeness, melted inside, sharply turned on by her coy come hither nonchalance. She alone kindled some raw unfamiliar stimuli, beckoning him to stop pretending he could be a mere acquaintance. He had forced himself over the years to rein in control, to fight such base needs. Maybe it was his alien status, maybe it was an untapped dark nature to him, but nonetheless heady sparks propelled his heart to take a risky chance on her, the woman who rendered him powerless, kissing her in the kitchen, taking from her what he craved most.
She was both his strength and his weakness.
Now, days later, listening to the roaring thunderstorm and rain splatter reminded him of his current troubles-- being grounded. He had to come home straight after school and on days he worked at the UFO Museum. They took away his Crash privileges. Hell, Jeff Parker threatened, warning him away from the premises for a week.
“If you care about her like you say you do,” he vexed, “you will stay out of here until next Sunday.”
Max prayed that he could last the seven days.
He did swoop up the ladder and kiss his beloved a few hours ago, the strangling, unrestrained passion refusing to wither. This wasn’t about magical, mysterious orbs or uncovered military clues. This was about them and their growing ardor. His heart synchronized with hers, pounding a mile a minute, wanting the flavor of melded tongues to last forever, as their ravenous bodies called out for completion, for an ultimate joining neither were ready to take on. He tasted her piquant lips over and over, inserting himself into her eager mouth, pumping his tongue in and out, hungry for more.
Boy did he ever dream of taking her to bed…
He glanced at the clock seeing that it was almost three a.m.
Before taming ruthless desire and shutting tired eyes, he heard a rustling sound outside his window, not of wind or thunder. It would no longer be the presence of Michael, for the emancipated minor did move into his own apartment. Perhaps old habits die hard.
At opening his windows and peering through wet landscape, Max saw only windblown trees and lush ground. No evidence that anyone had been around his bedroom. He stilled, however, his senses overloaded, watching carefully as though he inherited a keen nocturnal trait. A warning message seemed to be carried with howling wind, that an unveiled threat was approaching and he had to be ready.
He shut the curtains and laid back in bed, but sleep didn’t arrive as quickly as his uneasy nerves hoped.
******
Monday afternoon meant lunchtime at Roswell High School.
Straight after homeroom, Intermediate Spanish, and trig, Liz sat next to her giddy best friend, Maria Deluca at the quad, whom she hadn't spoken to in what seemed like ages. In between a late Saturday night, a Sunday day off, and being grounded by her parents, she only had time to gab to her friend on the telephone for thirty minutes. And thirty minutes was not enough time for a babbling, quirky girl like Maria.
Of course, they made morning small talk at the lockers, but lunchtime was all about free expression, to see each emotional facial and body language up close.
"Okay, now spill, spill, spill!" Maria squealed, grasping onto Liz's hands, her face animated and joyous. “So, what did you guys really do by the tower? Fill in all the blanks, Girlfriend.”
“I refuse to tell you,” Liz said, blushing feverishly, flinging her hair to hide evidenced cheeks, opening her brown paper bag and pulling out contents.
This morning, she remembered waking up, her body on fire with muscles aching, heart longing. Although she could barely piece together fragments of the strange midnight dream, of its dangerous warning, she was more vividly aware of lascivious recollection of strawberry kisses and the hardened feel of Max pressed against her. He had been so aggressive that night, so passionate. Intensity hadn’t frightened her. His fascinating alienness whispered to her human inclination, begging her to give in to temptation, to release her uninhibited wild . From that point on, every time she saw strawberries, seductive red fruit called out a siren’s serenade to her, a song about ripening and rupture of innocence.
"C'mon, I want to live vicariously on your romantic planet for a minute-- with the heavy staring and Lord Byron sonnets-- the things we ordinary girls dream of. Give me some satisfaction on my little limb of hope."
"Alright," Liz breathed, holding back urge to laugh at Maria's description. She focused on picturing the night at near the radio tower, seeing kisses with Max, and him getting down on his knees, near her stomach, looking up at her with desire and yearning as though he would propose. "We were kissing and it was like... it was like an explosion of magic, the kind of magic that science cannot possibly theorize. I never felt that before. We almost... until we heard this beeping, this sound that had been in a prior vision, and that's when we found the orb which gave off this long stream of blue light."
"Wow." Then cautiously looking around the busy squad, glad that no one looked in their general direction, Maria grasped Liz's shoulder, gasping. "You almost did what now?"
"Maria......" Liz sighed, embarrassed by the slip.
“Hey, I’m just looking out for you, Chica,” Maria continued, munching loud on a bright orange carrot stick, her thoughts more chaotic than her romantically inclined scientist girlfriend. She liked Max, but didn’t enjoy the newly fast progression of their starry-eyed relationship, especially considering the many times he kept Liz at distance. According to Maria, both Max and Michael had a lot to learn about women before they even earned the sacred V-card. Not that anyone was losing theirs… “I saw how intense it got at Michael’s apartment, remember? The very definition of hot and heavy, my dear. I’m just worried about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt by our fickle leader again.”
“There’s nothing to worry about, Maria.”
Even as the statement left her lips, Liz’s intuition disagreed. Things were about to change. She wasn’t sure where the inklings were coming from. She knew that she and Max were strong, happier than ever, and only hoped that their relationship strengthened from the growth of their incredible bond.
“All that hot and heavy raunchy action is over, right?” Maria asked, raising a brow. She didn’t want her surrogate sister to remain being used as a tool to discovering Czechoslovakian origins.
Liz laughed, knowing her cheeks were likely as red as her hands, refusing to respond.
“What did the units say?” Maria changed the subject, duly nothing that the Max files were closed for the moment.
“I’m to go to school and straight home afterward,” Liz groaned, frowning at the memories of her upset parents. Her angry father even got into Max’s face and banished him from the Crash for a week. Liz hoped she could survive not seeing her timid boyfriend sitting in his favorite booth.
“So, no extracurricular activities eh?”
To hide her rosy cheeks, Liz looked down, eating her sandwich all the while.
“How’s it going with Michael?” Liz changed the subject to another blooming alien romance.
Maria’s peaches and cream complexion pinkened immediately.
“Things are… things are actually good,” she responded.
“Really?” Liz inquired further.
“Yes. He’s slowly letting me in underneath that thick, stone wall exterior. I believe I might be closer to finding a heart behind the rocks and concrete.”
Liz laughed and shook her head, noting her bestie’s beaming expression. She couldn’t hide the glow.
“Oh, so there’s this new girl and she’s in a lot of my morning classes," Liz said, switching topics.
“Really?" Maria inquired, stirring her fruity yogurt. "What does she look like?”
“Very beautiful and curvy, a shorter version of Isabel just with the gorgeous blue eyes and ringlets in her blond hair.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“That description has envy written all over it.”
“I’m not envious. Just precautious. I got the strangest vibes from her, like I have to be careful, on guard so to speak.”
Every time the new girl looked her way, her smile gave off cold, unfriendly vibes despite its intention.
“Hmmmm…. Well, just remember that you’re a babe too, a real knockout, especially in the eyes of a certain Czechoslovakian who happens to be heading this way.”
Maria stared at Liz's dark eyes light with pleasure and knew all was lost.
Before irresistible Max Evans stepped closer with a budded white rose in hand, making her forget her best friend, her lunch, their high school, and everything else, a pandemonium of butterflies gave fervent chase inside Liz’s euphoric belly.
*******
High school was pointless and petty to a dignified queen who finally found where her king resided.
Dull class after dull class, in a short sleeved sky blue V-neck t-shirt, light denim blue jeans, and red sandals, Tess daydreamed about Max aka King Zan throughout the mundane afternoon to keep awake. She imagined bumping into him, his eyes on her bounteous cleavage, his large hands at her waist, his memories coming to life at the innocent touch. He would remember his wife, his rich kingdom, forget all about high school angst. Her steamy thoughts then drifted to wondrous Antar-- degrees better than morbid Earth. She pictured how stimulated her king could be, making her full mouth water with anticipation. Sure this Max clone was a mere teenage boy, but he was beautiful and strong just like his predecessor. After all, had she not begged Nasedo to take her to his house in the middle of the night just so that she could watch him, observe him in all his delicious splendor? Straight after playing games with Liz's dreams- one of her premiere powers- Nasedo led her to Max's window, to where he was wide awake gazing at the plain, white ceiling as though live angels above floated above him. That was enough to satisfy her growing hunger.
All day, she had to rein in her anger. Other teen girls whispered about wishing the shy boy would take hints.
"He's with that brainiac now," Pam Troy, head cheerleader, had hissed in Intermediate Spanish, her head gesturing toward Liz seated in the front row, every bit the studious nerd.
"Ugh," Vicky Delaney groaned, putting her hands across her shoulders, her pink lips pouting. "She was with Kyle. I thought I could change his mind after giving him the time of his life, but he is still warped about her."
"Must be something in the water," Tess inserted herself in their conversation, eying her rival, who chose that moment to turn around. She smiled at the brown eyed girl, who suddenly blushed uncomfortably and resumed focusing back on the teacher.
"I'm going to make her do anything that I want in the end," Tess thought happily, spending the rest of class imagining ways of making the girl die whilst chatting with the local airheads. She was good at multitasking.
In trig, however, Tess found herself once again in another shared class with Liz, the girl hellbent on annoying her incessantly without realizing it. Tess could still picture making lust driven Liz fall off the balcony, jump gracefully at seemingly Max's command, dying at believing she was inciting a Romeo and Juliet sacrifice.
Tess sauntered through the lunch hour, searching for her king, the keeper of her heart, at last spying him in the squad, lips suctioned to the plain human woman she was destined to crush underneath her boot heels. She watched them, fascinated, inspecting them scientifically, analyzing his hands in her lengthy brown hair, her tiny hands clutching his neck to support weakening composure. There seemed to be a fire brewing, building strength, gathering heat.
Tess had to douse the flames.
“And then he will be mine again,” she whispered, chewing hard on red eraser tip of a pencil, watching him kiss her scrawny nemesis.
“They’re getting closer,” Nasedo had informed her weeks ago, having found them nestled together near the radio tower that horrid morning. “One more step and they’ll reach consummating stage.”
“I can’t let that happen!” Tess screamed. “I’m his wife!”
“Well, my dear, you better start insinuating yourself into his life quickly before she ensnares him. Once they cement, he will not ever look your way.”
It had been a great twist of fate that an alien of Tess’s abilities was raised by a cold, human hating shapeshifter. He could turn into any being. In turn, he trained her to make people see things that weren’t there, perform duties under her control, and even change the events in dreams.
She bumped into the first order of business.
“Oh hello!” She chirped sweetly staring up at the fashionably dressed alien, in ribbed black turtleneck shirt, black jeans, and cherry red leather thigh high boots that matched the lipstick on her lush mouth.
“Hi,” coldly greeted Isabel Evans, the tall older sister of Max Evans or the backstabbing Vilandria of planet Antar. Tess couldn’t wait to spring up the backstabbing betrayal. She knew that the threesome knew very little of their past life and she would be the one to break it to them. Michael, the one most desperate for home and family, would be easiest to bring around.
Unfortunately, he chose not to come to school today.
“I’m new around here,” Tess said.
Isabel stared at her sharply, critiquing her attire, her hair. Her big brown eyes then noted some other thing that wasn’t based on shallow inspection. She felt a strong tie to the girl-- Tess's spirits soared, knowing she was causing Isabel's reaction.
“Where are you from?” Isabel asked, her hostility noticeably softening.
They walked in step in the direction of the cafeteria, using what was left of the fifteen minute break.
“A place that should be familiar to you,” Tess mumbled.
“Hmmm?” Isabel inquired. "I didn't hear you."
“All over the place in the states,” Tess amended. “My father’s a retired military man that specializes in army inventory.”
“Cool.”
“Are you free to show me around Roswell?”
“Sure! I would love to. My brother lost the jeep privileges for a week. I would be glad to take you around.”
Tess smiled.

*******

They raced into the eraser room, hands joined, moments to spare. The bell would ring soon.
Liz almost felt guilty for kissing him so publicly in the quad, for ditching Maria, for not eating a full lunch. She had a hankering for something beyond food, craving Max more and more each passing minute.
"I. Can't," he growled hoarsely in between kisses, "Not. Stop. Kissing. You."
"Then. Don't," she sighed.
He had been late to school that morning, tired and restless, stopping at a tiny flower shop near campus. He wanted to buy her dozens and dozens of white flower bouquets, fantasizing about them flowing in her lustrous hair, covering her lithe naked body. Instead, one plump rose seemed to say everything he required. Upon seeing her at lunch, having sweet words to say, he only found the strength to hand her the rose and kiss her senseless, praying that his parents or her parents hadn't instructed faculty and staff to keep them apart.
Thus, the mad dash for privacy.
Although challenging to do, he pulled back, holding her sweet blushing face in his gentle hands, staring deeply into her compelling brown depths. They were windows to her pure, honest soul, filling his heart with happiness. She looked so happy, so loved, so overjoyed by him. Her lips were fuller, rosier, thoroughly pleased by his attentions, but when her little pink tongue came out, wetting them further, taking a taste of his lingering possession, control snapped almost violently.
He rested his moistening forehead against hers, closing his eyes, panting slightly, resisting the strength of his urgent need for her.
"I thought about you all night," Liz sighed breathlessly, her eyes closed too, grasping the lapels of his dark rinsed denim jacket, with her gifted white rose in hand. The scientist in her was baffled by the intensity, the overwhelming compulsion to be with him always, to be nearer forever. She prayed that nothing could interfere, nothing could break apart their infinity. "After you left me, I couldn't think clearly. I only thought about you, Max, about when I could see you again."
"Liz..." he exhaled, touched by her whispered confession, wondering how he would survive gym class, let alone the rest of the day and night. She made him feel too many conflicting emotions, things he couldn't control. His panicking heart would surely give out, stop beating altogether.
Suddenly, he wished to have powers to become invisible, be with her every second.
They kissed again, ravenous and desperate, stretching what little time they had, creating the best of this treasured moment. She held him tighter, wrapping her bare legs around him, her thighs keeping him imprisoned.
"Max," she sighed, tilting her head every which way, greedily offering herself up whatever he needed, they needed.
Time was quickly running out, sand falling speedily down the hourglass.
Yet ferocity of fervor burning the alien king and human girl alive refused to die out....
Last edited by lizparkerevans07 on Fri Jun 09, 2017 3:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.

keepsmiling7
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Re: Wring Around the White Roses

Postby keepsmiling7 » Mon May 08, 2017 7:47 am

Welcome to the world of Roswell dreamer fanfic!
And WOW.......what a start. You have a magical way with words. You are an outstanding author, I'm just sorry you've been hiding so long.
I am sorry to see Tess on the scene so early! She comes and ruins everything for our precious young couple.
Thanks for DE lurking,
Carolyn

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Natalie36
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Re: Wring Around the White Roses

Postby Natalie36 » Mon May 08, 2017 2:29 pm

:shock: love the start

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lizparkerevans07
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Posts: 18
Joined: Sun Feb 19, 2017 9:35 am

Re: Wring Around the White Roses

Postby lizparkerevans07 » Mon May 08, 2017 3:13 pm

keepsmiling7 wrote:Welcome to the world of Roswell dreamer fanfic!
And WOW.......what a start. You have a magical way with words. You are an outstanding author, I'm just sorry you've been hiding so long.
I am sorry to see Tess on the scene so early! She comes and ruins everything for our precious young couple.
Thanks for DE lurking,
Carolyn


Natalie36 wrote::shock: love the start


Thank you both so much!!! I really appreciate you reading and commenting. Very sweet. :)

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lizparkerevans07
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Re: Wring Around the White Roses

Postby lizparkerevans07 » Mon May 08, 2017 8:36 pm

Disclaimer: The title of this chapter takes a line from William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” and references a specific play passage. Also refers to “Roswell” episodes “River Dog” and “Meet the Dupes.”

Chapter 2: These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

Michael Guerin wasn’t the average alien hybrid. He believed in the value of skipping school when the occasion called for it. Sure, part of his priorities as an emancipated minor included being present every single day and making the grade.
However, no teacher could understand mountainous stress eating his consciousness for dinner. He faced great disappointment of being unwanted always rising above the surface, seeming to be his birthright. Ever since leaving that message at the library with Isabel, nothing happened. No sign of the other alien appeared. He didn’t stop looking for a significant piece of hope that their protector would find them, find him.
Guttural misery behind infliction couldn’t be shared—not to Max, not to Isabel, and certainly not to Maria or to her best friend Liz. He couldn’t exactly attend any sort of therapeutic counseling to express this internal turmoil either.
“Again, my thanks Guerin for inviting me over!” Alex yelled, swerving his joystick operated car to get out of harm’s way. “I never knew that I could do this sort of thing.”
Who would have ever guessed that one Sunday night an alien would ask for the Monday company of a wisecracking human like Alex to join them in a fest of video games and pizza?
Alex had thought the phone call a mere joke. That is until he responded to the tone.
“Hey, sometimes you need a friend,” Michael said, laid back on the couch, leading the race, wearing his favorite black Metallica t-shirt for the third straight day with dusty blue jeans. His brownish blond hair was a bit wild and unkempt, likely a shampoo would be in order before night was out.
Alex was sure the alien had to be cheating somehow, using unhinged telekinesis to have such a huge, commanding distance over him, but then again, Alex wasn’t a huge video gamer. He was more computer wizard genius and self-indulgent alternative rock band enthusiast. Now he might add potential delinquent to his repertoire. Sure, he didn’t have a perfect attendance record like his straight laced amiga Liz. He also wasn’t known to be a repetitive no show like Michael. He was in between. In the middle. His grades were good, a little better than average.
Still, he had to head home before five to delete the automated school message. His mom and dad didn’t need to discover he binged on cold pizza and played video games instead of dozing off in classes. Plus, he was sure the girls would give him the school scoop—meaning any missed homework assignments.
Michael thought it mildly amusing to bring this human boy into the equation. He liked the guy for his sense of humor and awkwardness. It made him more comforting to be around, especially considering that Max was the exact opposite-- serious and brooding—often about his love life. Michael desperately needed to put love on the backburner, turn off its heat source, not that he loved Maria or anything, or wanted to discuss the potential of his blossoming feelings for the blabbermouth Jetta girl. He wanted a day to vacate the premises of this weird, uncomfortable emotional involvement.
“Yes!” Michael exclaimed, jumping up, his red car successfully crossing the finish line on the small television screen.
As Michael rooted for his umpteenth win, Alex grinned and patted him on the back, secretly admitting that they shared something in common, sank in the same boat. Michael feeling dejected. Alex feeling like a punching bag. He didn’t care to confess his envy at the way his gal pals attached themselves to the male alien equation while he sat out, looking at unattainable Isabel with his yearning heart dying for her to come to him. He wanted to be the rock she leaned on, the ear to confess her woes to, and of course the lips she tested theories on. He couldn’t get over what he called morning glory: The Isabel Evans knocking on his door requesting a kiss to find her brother’s whereabouts. Her soft, plaint mouth had been everything he dreamt of.
Alex groaned at his state of sappiness, picking up another greasy slice of pineapple and ham pizza doused in extra mozzarella, far from the Tabasco laced other side.
Before Michael could say anything, a knock interrupted them.
“Expecting anyone?” Alex asked, his brows raising, his nerves itching. “Truancy officers, perhaps?”
“I don’t know, but if I were you, I’d hide in the bathroom.”
“Already done.”
Alex raced in the back. Michael opened the door.
A stern, blue-eyed balding man with a paunch belly stood, dressed in a tan jacket, blue plaid button up shirt, and brown belted khaki slacks.
“Who the hell are you?” Michael asked.
“I’m whom you’re looking for Michael or should I call you Rath?” the stranger responded, his tone harsh and arrogant. He pushed himself into the apartment sans permission.
*********
The bell would ring in any second.
Yet Liz clung to Max’s nape, kissing him over and over, their sucking noises and suggestive moans the only sounds filling space of Roswell High’s make out sanctuary. From her dainty fist, soft, chaste petals escaped fresh white rose bud, falling onto the ground like a quiet rain of feathers. She paid no attention, busily enjoying addictive taste of her boyfriend’s mouth and tongue, spicy and sweet, the unique myriad of flavors possessing her unlike any other person on earth. She could recall kisses from first one at age eight. None of those boys could incite her like Max. An inner wantonness was dying to pulsate and shatter, connect further with him, whispering that they must join soon, very, very soon. It was her dream, her siren’s dream, beckoning her to succumb, to let him stake claim.
He was hers and by goddess, she was his.
“Liz….” Max moaned, briefing his wicked tonguing assault, licking his lips, savoring honeyed ambrosia she left behind. His heart sung its harmonious pleasure, wholly consumed by this mere wisp of a human girl, a human girl propelling every delicate string of beating organ. His fingers dug into her hair, brushing carefully away from her fevered face, all aglow because of him. He never knew his power could render her stilted, her long lashed brown eyes revealing admiration and hunger. With rapt expression beguiling her gentle face, she was easily the most illustrious creature he had ever encountered. She had to know it, know how she took away his morose sullenness and lonely despair, bringing pockets of wistful light and joy.
Her hands released from around his neck, touching olive green t-shirt, remembering him wearing it the day he saved her life. She stared up at him, smiled, and looked back downward, sniffing the white rose.
Everything inside of him jolted.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, leaning close, wanting to press his mouth against hers one last time…
Shrilling horror rang into their ears, slapping their brains, causing them to jump and take pause.
Liz sighed, gazing into Max’s golden eyes once more, feeling regret and sorrow.
“I’ll see you in last period,” she said, kissing his cheek.
“I can’t wait,” he muttered.
They intertwined their hands a bit, letting this tiny connection be enough to deter their passionate spirits, staring at one another, interval of memorable flashes giving enough gumption to satisfy their thirsty souls.
Then, sadly, the young couple departed the eraser room.
*********
Kyle Valenti sighed, dwindling idly in his free period, watching them leave together. He tried getting over his smart, brilliant ex-girlfriend, falling into the arms of Vicki, but the lights dimmed whenever he saw Liz around campus. The way she smiled, how she laughed, the way she wore her hair down...
His heart was in terrible agony. Shameful hope branded him. Weeks ago, Liz loudly hurrahed for him during the pep rally. In his distracted happiness, he got physically wounded. She came by his house, using the spare key, entering with his favorite pie and homework, being the girlfriend he used to have. He only feigned anger because he somehow knew that his feelings were not returned, that she was pitying him.
They were remedying their friendship now, but he wanted more and vowed to get it.
“Why the long face?”
Kyle turned and saw the fetching, curvaceous new girl, Tess Harding, walk his way. The guys had been talking about her throughout the morning, praying that she would give any of them the time of day... or better yet night.
“Oh, no reason,” he answered glumly, shrugging his shoulders, glancing at the abandoned eraser room.
“Tell me about it.” Tess peered in his direction, her powerfully probing mind thundering over bearing witness to Max and Liz’s disgusting tonsil hockey setting the place afire. It made her want to break the door open and pry the thieving moppet from her husband.
Thankfully, it ended. She would up the ante and take advantage of the seven day punishment. Thanks to Isabel, Tess knew that Max wasn't allowed at the Crash. That meant he would be at home or at his crummy job.
And she would be there, making sure he remembered her and their life together.
“Wait." Kyle studied her, noticing her fists at her sides, her bright blue eyes determined. She appeared to be fixated on something, or someone. "Do you like Evans or something?”
“No, no, no," Tess played the naive card, batting her lashes softly, delicately parting her mouth, "I’m sure he wouldn't want someone like me, him being the shy type and all. I mean that other girls are likely envious of Liz taking his undivided attention.”
Kyle snorted.
“Evans is a dweeb at best. Believe me, no girl alive is hankering over that…. unless you’re interested. You want him, don’t you?”
“Stupid right.”
“You know, half of the male population is crazy about you and you have the hots for dull as dishwater-”
“Don’t badmouth him!”
Kyle winced, taken aback.
“Sorry, I just… Max is not who you think he is.”
“I’m sure he isn’t. What do you know about him? My dad is suspicious of him. Liz has been different since September because of him. Tell me what you know.”
Tess smiled, her pink painted fingernails adjusting the collar of his blue polo.
She peered deep into his eyes, hypnotizing him.
“I can tell you a lot, but for now, I’ll help you.”
“Help me?" He brushed her off, alarmed at her behavior. She didn't know him, but acted as though they were close friends, that she had a right in his personal space. Not that he minded. She was pretty and smelled good. "I don’t need your help, Harding.”
“You still want Liz," she groaned, reading his mind. "I can tell. I can see it.”
Again, Kyle grunted and began walking away from her.
Tess hoped the boy would change his mind, otherwise she would have to use her powers on him. She hurried off to her next class, planning and plotting ways to break up a couple that wasn’t meant to be.
*************
As Ms. Trident lectured on William Shakespeare’s "Romeo and Juliet," underneath her rose pink sweater, Liz fingered the pendant, immediately letting thoughts jolt back to euphoric thrills of last Christmas.
They had taken a step back, not truly agreeable on Liz’s part. That blissful morning Max stopped by the caf during breakfast rush and sat in his usual booth, enjoying a plate of Pandemonium Pancakes. During a break, Liz settled across from her beloved healer, beaming happily, with on-the-house Martian mugs of hot chocolate (Tabasco in his), and slid both hot beverage and tiny wrapped package in his direction.
“Liz… you didn’t… you know… have to get me anything,” he stumbled, cheeks turning crimson, astonished by her kind gesture.
“I wanted to,” she said, smiling, bravely touching his hand. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?”
“Yes.” He gulped, staring down at her hand. Their immense connection started humming to life, thriving ravenously on sweet, essential bite of budding first love. Emotions simmered as they gazed at one another, an innate inkling rising for them to leap out of suppressed yearning.
“Well, open it, Silly!” She giggled, removing herself, fighting against slow building urges that tickled her reserve. Something dangerously wicked threatened to expose dormant passion, but she ignored it, resisted it, desperate to remain solely focused on celebrating spirited holiday with her friend, her lab partner, her love.
Max took a sip of hot chocolate to calm his sporadic nerves, delighting at spicy sugared flavor combination. He licked fluffy whipped cream off his lips. Then, bravely, he gave attention to his gift, gently removing clear tape, aware of the care and tenderness in her wrapping effort. Once releasing perfect triangular folds that touched his supernatural soul, he unveiled a slender silver pocketknife fittingly resting in his palm. Wintry sun focused in at the right moment, shining on the glint of sterling metal, sharing engraved words, “MaxAndLiz4ever” on its smooth back.
“This is… this so beautiful, Liz,” he said. “I don’t know how I deserved such a gift.”
“You deserve the world, Max,” she breathed, gazing into his glistening honeyed eyes, refusing to break away. "I hope that you know that I'll always be your friend, Max. Always."
“I…” His eyes dropped to her lips, to the whipped cream smudging at the corner of rosy red plumpness, tempting him to taste her. He quickly looked down, reaching into his leather jacket pocket. “I got you something too. You probably already have it, but I just… I saw it and immediately thought of you.”
The flat gift, obviously, a book, was wrapped in whisper thin gold paper and tied together with satin lavender ribbon. She too opened hers with care, appreciating thoughtfulness.
“Oh Max…” she sighed, lifting rare edition of "Romeo and Juliet," a slim faded olive green hardcover with old, yellowed pages. It must have cost him a fortune, at least several paychecks from the UFO Center, but it wasn’t the expense that filled her heart with immense elation. He knew her so well, so intimately well.
“I saw it at that bookshop on Lincoln and thought of you. You probably have it already, but…”
“Max, please don’t…. this is so wonderful. Thank you.”
She reached over and kissed his cheek.
He stilled, letting his hands steal memory of her lips against his skin for one guttural second.
“Max…” she sighed, lost and conflicted.
His face grew more crimson as he realized that she observed him.
Unfortunately, his phone buzzed, alerting him that he needed to get going fast. Isabel, aka the Christmas Nazi, had texted him several times, begging him to come home, and watch Christmas movies among other coerced activities.
“I also wanted to… I mean Isabel and I agreed that you should have this…”
The black pendant with its silver swirled symbol had been fixed with River Dog’s other link, looking as though it had never been broken.
“I shouldn’t accept this…”
“It’s yours, Liz. We want you to have it… you’ve helped us so much.”
"Uh Lizzie!" her father called, interrupting their privacy.
The Crashdown crowd thickened within those candid fifteen minutes.
"Why do they have to spend their Christmas here?" She inwardly sighed and gave Max an apologetic stare, noting that her break was over. She rose from the booth and rushed in the back, hugging her new book to her chest, with the pendent dangling in her hand.
“Let me,” he demanded, sounding deliciously husky, taking black corded string.
She hadn't known he followed her. It thrilled and gratified her senses all the same, especially when his slender fingers met hers.
He tenderly pushed her ponytail to the side of her neck. For a quiet while, nothing was said. They stood still, listening to each other’s rapid heartbeat. She closed her eyes, incredibly languid, warming at the presence of him behind her, feeling him staring intensely at her bare nape. His fingers suddenly reached out, tracing a sensitive path on her flesh, touching sporadic brown moles, instilling a flashed memory.
She was about to climb out of his bedroom, stubborn and determined, when he begged for her promise and put the necklace on her that first time.
“Max,” she whispered, upturning to peer at his face, shell shocked by triggered thought.
“Shhh,” he said, instructing her to resume looking forward. They didn't have much time. Her father was likely wondering what he was doing back there, but since it was the holiday, he allowed Max to have this coveted wish.
Max placed the necklace back on her, the necklace of his mysterious roots, silently hoping that she would never take it off again.
“I… I better go,” he mumbled. “Isabel… my parents are probably expecting me so…”
“Yeah… right,” she uttered, fingering symbolic pendant. “I have to get ready to hang out with Alex and Maria… after my shift that is.”
She blushed, tucking loose brown strands behind her ear.
He swallowed rather nervously, watching her actions, keeping his response in check. Each passing minute, he hated choosing to step back. All he wanted was to close the distant between them, kiss her senseless.
“Well… Merry Christmas, Liz,” he said.
“Merry Christmas, Max… and thank you… for the gifts,” she repeated, sensing his hesitation, pleased by it.
“Thank you.”
Thus, he walked out of the backroom, paid his bill, and left the café, but not before looking back at her with an alluring half smile, seemingly knowing that she was watching him from the swinging double doors, her expression mirroring the day he woke her up from the clutches of death.
After her shift ended, she raced to her room, glanced in the mirror, seeing a flushed, vibrant young woman who longed to profess her committed feelings.
Instead, she laid on her bed, promising herself one small snippet of her favorite play.
On the first page, however, Max left a dried white rose and a memorable quote of his choosing:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite
Merry Christmas, Liz


“Oh Max…” she sighed, touching his script handwriting, wondering how long they could remain friends when...


“Liz!”
She was nudged hard.
“Oh, yes?” Her hand fell away from her neck immediately.
******
Max stood in the gym shower stall longer than everyone else, shivering in the cold spray, the chill meant to diffuse his hormonal thoughts. His eyes closed. Immediately, he saw Liz naked, her wet hair slick back, radiant skin of her glistening back caught up in dewy droplets, her dark gaze waiting for him to hand her a towel. Surprised, hot and bothered, his body temperature rose out from frigidity, causing an embarrassing reaction to harden between his thighs.
He didn't like thinking of her as an object, as just a thing to insert instrumental satisfaction.
She was a turning into a phenomenal woman with privileged keys to his heart.
At last, he turned off the knob, dried off, and put on fresh clothes.
He walked to English, vexing himself for not taking AP Honors, a class he would have shared with Liz. She was currently in there, likely diligently taking notes while streaming sunlight from old, dusty blinds sought refuge inside her beautiful, voluminous hair. His blood boiled at imagining other boys taking in this leisure pleasure, staring at her, wanting her, lusting after her.
He sat in his usual seat, near the back, and calmed down. It would be an hour before final period biology. Make that fifty-five minutes.
“Good afternoon everyone,” announced Mrs. Rose, entering the classroom, arms loaded. “We have a new student joining us this year, Tess Harding.”
The pretty blond girl waved at everyone and took the empty seat next to Max.
“Now we’re going to continue on reading about Flannery O’Connor and discussing 'Good Country People.' Turn to page sixty-one.”
“I don’t have a copy,” Tess said.
“Anyone willing to share their book with Miss Harding? Oh, Max, why don’t you help her out? I believe you wrote the best essay on the last literary assignment and could maybe offer Miss Harding a few pointers.”
“Uh yes… sure,” Max said, flushing slightly, always nervous about receiving praise.
The blond eagerly scooted closer to him, smiling, showing off straight, pearly whites.
“I’m Tess as you already know,” she whispered.
“Hey. Nice to meet you, I’m-”
“Max, yes?”
He nodded, opening the pages of the thick hardcover to where Mrs. Rose instructed.
Tess stared at him, focusing quite intently. Its pierced probing bothered him.
“Do I have something on my face?” he asked, catching her eyes.
“No,” she replied, beaming. “It’s just… you remind me of someone from back home.”
“Where is home?”
“Antar.”
The name suddenly invaded his mind and weaved a mythical tale behind his eyes, a tale of a king and queen ruling a peaceful faraway world unlike earth. Large, flowing ocean contained clear crystal waters, indigo and gold striped sky held two luminous white moons at night, and silky, joined bodies laced in sweat beads rolled around crimson bedding, sighing passionately, knowing each other’s cravings intimately as though borne to lust and love exclusively.
"Forsake all others....."
As Max dissolved into Tess’s memories of their past life, only giving him shadowed glimpses, her manicured little fingers brushed against his own. Immediately, he felt a powerful connection, a tie to this girl, something that both frightened and excited him.

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begonia9508
Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 1157
Joined: Sat Nov 17, 2001 2:37 am
Location: Somewhere lost in chocolat Land

Re: Wring Around the White Roses

Postby begonia9508 » Tue May 09, 2017 8:22 am

WOW! What's a start... but when it Comes to Max and Liz, everything is possible and I never really understood why they let the gerbil ruin their love!
Waiting for more - thanks EVE
- Les jouissances de l'esprit sont faites pour calmer les orages du coeur!
- On reconnaît le bonheur au bruit qu'il fait quand il s'en va!
- L'amour vous rend aveugle et le mariage vous redonne la vue!

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lizparkerevans07
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 18
Joined: Sun Feb 19, 2017 9:35 am

Re: Wring Around the White Roses

Postby lizparkerevans07 » Sat May 13, 2017 6:30 pm

begonia9508 wrote:WOW! What's a start... but when it Comes to Max and Liz, everything is possible and I never really understood why they let the gerbil ruin their love!
Waiting for more - thanks EVE

LOL!!!!
Thanks for your feedback and for reading. Stay tuned. :)

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Natalie36
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 583
Joined: Sun Jul 30, 2006 12:06 pm

Re: Wring Around the White Roses (M/L + CC) Updated 5/13

Postby Natalie36 » Sun May 14, 2017 12:51 pm

Don't like Tess so much but loved alex with mike

keepsmiling7
Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 1621
Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm

Re: Wring Around the White Roses (M/L + CC) Updated 5/13

Postby keepsmiling7 » Mon May 15, 2017 7:15 pm

Max and Liz are so hot together.......until the demon arrived.
Tess and Kyle would have been so good together......
But no, she invades Max's mind with memories of Antar.
We're in for a rocky road ahead I'm afraid.
Thanks,
Carolyn


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