Behrsgirl77 - good to have you back
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Previously
“The Harvest is coming up for the Skins. They’ve got a place here and in Copper Summit. It’s a three man job at the least. The F man said to call you if we needed back up. We’ve got a two day window to get the job done here and then we do Copper Summit. You in?”.
Mac rubbed her face in fatigue. She needed Max to drop Tess and get back with Liz. Cutting down the lifespan of the Skins was an opportunity she couldn’t miss out on.
Mac wished that she had a double. Both Max and Zan needed her, she couldn’t be in two places at once and she couldn’t just lump all she knew on Max and then leave.
She came to a quick decision on what she had to do. She would tell Max the information he needed to know at the moment, go and help Zan and then come back and fill everyone in on the rest of her plan.
“I’ll take an early flight today and you better fill me in on the rest when I get there.”
“Done,” he agreed. “Hit me on my cell when you get arrival details, here’s my number.”
Mac wrote down his number and recited it back to him. “Got it.”
“Good, see you in a few hours.”
“Later.” She ended the call and threw up her hands in defeated acceptance.
Just when she thought she had everything sorted, something had to come out of nowhere and cause her to change her plans.
Jumping out of bed, she turned on her computer and booked a flight to New York.
****
Saturday Morning (part 3)
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Max was roused from sleep by some unknown reason. His dream world disappeared the moment his eyes cracked open. It took a second for the memories to come flooding back and another second for him to realise that he was the only person occupying Michael’s bed.
“Liz?” he called out. When she didn’t answer, he sat up on the bed and surveyed the room filled with the glow of an early sunrise.
“Liz?“ he called out again and again, he was greeted by silence.
Where is she? He wondered. Getting off the bed, he went in search of her.
He walked past Michael’s sleeping form and was on his way to the kitchen when the sound of water running from the bathroom caught his attention.
He rationalised that she had probably felt sick and had gone to throw up. Turning the knob, he walked in and closed the door behind him.
****
“Liz?“.
There was no one huddled over the toilet or the sink throwing up, but the shower in the bathtub was running.
“Liz?“.
It never crossed his mind to wonder what Liz would be doing in the shower, he just cautiously made his way to the shower curtain and pulled it open.
His mouth dropped open at the sight that greeted him. A fully clothed, water-soaked Liz sat underneath the shower head, hugging her knees and staring at the floor of the tub.
“Liz!”.
From where he stood, Max could feel the chill. She was huddled underneath a cold shower, for he didn’t know how long.
She didn’t acknowledge his presence, she didn’t look up, she didn’t move, she just sat there. The small, fragile and vulnerable figure he saw before him broke his heart.
Without a second thought, Max turned off the shower, bent over and lifted her out without any protest from her. She just relaxed in his arms and said nothing.
The minute their bodies touched, Max was shocked to find out that she wasn’t just wet, she was practically frozen.
The thought of her developing hypothermia or pneumonia spurred him to action. He grabbed a nearby towel, opened the door and carried her to the bedroom.
****
After kicking the door closed, he lightly placed her on her feet. In zombie like fashion, she just stood there, staring ahead into nothing.
“What are you doing Liz?” he asked. Taking the towel, he gently dried her hair and her face. He was amazed to discover that water still trailed down her cheeks and was even more surprised to discover that it wasn’t water but tears that streaked down her cheeks.
“Oh Liz,“ he said softly as he wiped them away with the towel. When he felt her shiver, he realised that the towel wouldn’t help in drying her clothes and that was the most important thing.
“You’re wet,” he told her, “ we need to get you out of these clothes“.
He rifled through Michael’s drawer and handed her a long t-shirt.
“Put this on.”
She glanced at the t-shirt and then back at him.
It took Max a few seconds to realise that she would need privacy, but he wasn’t willing to leave her alone.
“Don’t worry,“ he said turning his back to her, “I won’t look.”
He could hear her moving behind him. Images of her wet clothes falling to the floor and wet naked skin flashed in his mind and sent his pulse racing.
“You can turn around now,” she said.
Her voice jerked him back to reality, he turned around to find her standing before him in a t-shirt which covered half the length of her thighs.
Max gulped only to find his throat dry.
This is not the place or the time to think like that, he chided himself.
He realised that she was looking at him expectantly. “Your turn,” she said.
It was then that Max realised that his -make that Michael’s top- was wet.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“Don’t worry, I won’t look,” she grinned.
“I- I um don’t mind,” he heard himself say.
He saw her smile and look away. He imagined that she was probably blushing.
That makes too of us, he thought. He was all too aware of her eyes on him as he stripped off his shirt and put on another one from Michael’s drawer.
Both dressed in dry clothes, they stood a distance apart staring at each other, taking comfort in each other’s presence.
“Liz-” he began.
“I don’t wanna talk about it Max,” she objected.
“That’s what you said the last time and look where you ended up”, he retorted.
He watched her body language shift as she struggled to say something. Instead, she climbed into bed. Max, determined to get some answers, followed suite and this time, he got in between the sheets.
****
Liz, positioned on her side, looked over to Max a few centimetres away from her, who was in the exact same position.
They had lay there in silence, staring at each other for while. Liz knew that he wanted answers, that he needed answers and when he moved so close to her that she felt his breathing tickle her nose, she knew she was fighting a lost battle.
She had to tell him something and that something had to be the truth.
“I’m falling Max,” she began drowning in his intense gaze. “I’m constantly falling and screaming down this dark abyss,“ her breath caught in her throat when she felt his leg brush against hers.
As if watching him take off his shirt wasn’t bad enough, now their legs had to touch.
Images of their legs, and arms and bodies, clothing free, separated by nothing, entwined together filled her mind.
Oh. God.
Breathe.
Breathe and continue talking, she reminded herself.
“…and I just want to hit the ground and make it all stop…but you keep catching me before I do….and I need you to not.”
She saw him clench is jaw and eyes flash in determination.
“Not gonna happen.” His words had the same effect of him drawing her into a powerful loving hug.
He reached his hand across and loving stroked her cheek. Liz closed her eyes, savouring his touch.
She groaned in protest when his moved away.
How can I truly let you go if you do things like that and make me feel like that? she asked him silently.
The reply she saw in his eyes was simple.
You can’t.
“After the shower, I feel slightly better now,” she joked.
A smile tugged at his mouth. “And you’re not suffering from hypothermia or pneumonia, so that’s a plus.”
“Funny, has to be Mac’s influence,” she said.
Max smiled in admission.
“I like it,” she told him. After having talked to her and heard Max talking about her, the only thing that Liz was jealous of, was how close she was with Max.
They descended into a comfortable silence, caressing each other with their eyes.
“Liz?”.
“What?”.
“We may joke but that was serious.”
“I know” she whispered..
A light-headed sensation overcame her under the intensity of his gaze and the connection she felt between them. It was growing more powerful with each second they spent drowning in each other. The desire to put her arms around him and snuggle into his chest was so over-powering that the only way she knew how to dampen it was to turn away from him.
“Night Max.”
The amused smile in his voice was evident. “ ‘Nite.”
****