Again, so sorry for the delay. I'm terrible at this now, it seems like. But I do have a new part -- some lovely 11 pages for you to read. And I'm hoping ot finished up the next part sometime this week.
But, you know me.
Anyway, again, thank you all so much for your endless support and feedback, and for never giving up on me or this story.

Thanks!:
clueless - holy crap! thanks for all the bumps! lol!
Timelord31
begonia9508
Dream Weaver
Natalie36
raemac - lol! many thanks to you too for the incredible amount of bumps!
Gnomie
tequathisy
LairaBehr4
flyawayraven
Sarah_helen
BETHANN
VivaLasVegas
moon_sprite
Human-traffic-accident
JBehr'sChica
lady shal
83 AlienAngel
cassie
behralicious87
Michelle in Yonkers - Rian and Jon know eachother through Liz, but neither of them knows how much the other knows...if that makes any sense. lol.
tinie38
pinkslipper
...now, without further ado!
<center>Part Eighteen</center>
“I think I’m going to quit at the security company.”
Riannan to look up from the TV Guide perpetually glued to her hands and stared at Alex. “Why?”
He shrugged easily and plucked the remote control from Rian’s lap. He spoke as he began to flip through the channels, “I just don’t feel like working there anymore,” he stopped on Fear Factor. “I only worked there because I wanted a job to keep me occupied rather than wanting the money. So, that I wouldn’t be thinking about them. And the company was just getting on their feet, so they needed me,” his eyes darted towards the kitchen. “But I’m needed elsewhere now.”
Rian had a sneaking suspicion that he was referring to the tall and curvy blonde baking cookies with Maria. She flipped through the pages of the TV Guide, not really paying attention to what she saw. “So, quit.”
“You don’t think it’s a bad idea?”
“The way I see it, when Liz is done playing FBI agent we all are getting the hell out of dodge, right? Why not start tying up loose ends now?”
At the mention of their missing friend, Alex’s expression turned to one of concern, and the subject was immediately diverted. “How is she?”
Flickering her turquoise gaze around the room, Rian made sure that a certain alien king wasn’t within earshot. She sighed. “Liz is fine,” she tried to sound convincing, but knew the effort was futile. “She’s still having nightmares about what happened. But she’s gaining control of her powers. Today was her first day back.”
“I really want to get her out of there.”
“Me, too,” she tossed the guide onto the coffee table, turned her attention solely on Alex. “I want to get you all out of here. The sooner all of this is over with, the better.”
Alex leaned his head back against the couch, stretched his long legs out across the coffee table, and forced his mind to flitter away from Liz and onto his current dilemma. There were plenty of reasons he could quit work. He didn’t need the money, though he wasn’t rich by any means. He could afford to not work for as long as it would take to get them all out of there, which hopefully wouldn’t be long. For a few months now his job hadn’t been fun. Save for the trip to the Special Unit, he was rarely sent out on maintenance work, and that was what he had loved about his job – the hands on part, the fixing. Sitting behind a desk, answering phone calls, setting up schedules, and ordering people around hadn’t been his idea of a pleasing job. But, then, that’s what had come with the promotion.
Isabel’s infectious giggle reached his ears, and before he could stop himself, a smile broke across his face. He would gladly give up his job if only he could stay here and see her smiling face, listen to her sweet voice, hold her hand…everyday.
“Someone should be here twenty-four seven anyway,” Rian added, with a straight face; the stifled laughter in her voice as she said it made Alex pause.
He grinned, though a slight tinge of pink did highlight his cheeks. “I don’t need your help thinking of reasons to quit, Rian,” he told her with a chuckle. “And I’m not going to be moving in here. I’ll return to my apartment every night to sleep and come here during the day.”
Rian arched a brow. “Every night?”
Alex considered her question, and then grinned. “Maybe not every night,” he murmured. “But I certainly can’t move in.”
Shifting on the couch to get comfortable, Rian slung her arm against the back and draped her legs across his thighs. “You guys getting closer?” She asked, “Or is she still kind of standoffish?”
That dopey grin spread across his face again, letting Rian know that things, indeed, were progressing well. Then, he too shifted closer, like a teenage girl getting ready to spill a secret. “When we went out to the porch last night to eat our ice cream and talk, afterwards we held hands,” Rian raised her eyebrows and cocked her head, as if impressed. “And then she kissed me on the cheek.”
The absolute excitement in his voice did her in – she burst into laughter. “You’re just making progress by leaps and bounds, aren’t you, Hot Stuff?”
Alex smiled, “You laugh, but you don’t understand,” he glanced in the direction of the kitchen again, catching a glimpse of golden hair as Isabel opened the refrigerator. “We were just starting to consider a relationship with one another when they left. It’s like we’re starting all over again. And Isabel, she,” Alex paused, and considered the beauty in the next room. He looked at Rian, hoping the eye contact would make her understand. “Isabel’s complicated. She has layers.”
“Like an onion,” Rian quipped, grinned.
Alex rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. “Yeah. And it took me almost three years to get through those layers and into her core. Now, I have to start all over again.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
Slowly, he shook his head, “No, because she’s completely worth it.”
Rian smiled, and then leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I hope she realizes just how lucky she is.”
And like the dork he is, Alex beamed. “Thank you.”
She ruffled his hair and stood from the couch and stretched. Glancing at her watch, covered her mouth as she yawned. “I think I’m going to run home and take a cat nap. I’m running a little low on steam.”
“Okay,” Alex muttered his attention suddenly locked on the grotesque items being consumed on television. Then called out to her as she made her way to the door. “Hey, have Liz call over here sometime, okay? The rest of us would like to know she’s okay from her and not the messenger.”
Rian nodded, understanding. She waved, and then yelled a goodbye to Maria in the kitchen. When she stepped outside the house, she squinted against the setting sun and grabbed her sunglasses off the top of her head. She had just stepped off the porch, when a shadow stepped into her path. Looking up, she stared right into the intense gaze of Max Evans.
“Well, shit.”
Max held up his hands as if immediately trying to ward off any hostility. “Listen,” he began softly. “I know we got off on the wrong foot. I know you’re just trying to protect her.”
Rian crossed her arms, waited.
“And I know you think that you need to protect her from me, but,” Max swallowed, as if he found it suddenly difficult to speak. “I just need to hear for myself. I don’t even have to talk to her, not right now,” he tacked on. “I just need to hear her voice. To hear for myself that she’s okay. I trust you when you say that she’s fine, and that everything is going to be okay. But…”
Rian tried valiantly to remain unaffected by the way Max’s eyes fluttered shut and his arms fell helplessly to his side. She tried not to feel sympathy for his ragged appearance – his sunken eyes, his shaggy hair, and scruffy face. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter that this man’s heart was breaking right in front of her. She tried to compare him to slim, and bacteria-like organisms.
But she failed.
“I just – ” his face contorted, showing the pain coursing through him. And then he opened his eyes, looked skyward before he stared beseechingly at her once more. “Please.”
And like that, her resolved crumbled.
“You keep quiet, do you understand me?” Rian whispered raggedly and took three brisk steps towards him. She whipped off her sunglasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, and then she pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open. “Not one word. I do the talking, and you just listen. Do you understand all of that?”
Mutely, Max nodded. His heart started to beat faster and he took an unsteady step towards her, wanting to be as close to the phone as possible. He knew instinctively that Rian wouldn’t let him hold the phone, wouldn’t let him see the numbers she was dialing. But he didn’t care. She was giving him this, and it was more than he had expected.
The phone rang.
Sweat rolled down his back. One.
It was on speaker, so the sound was clear. He shuffled closer.
Two.
Was she going to answer? His fists clenched into balls. What if she didn’t? And what if this was the only chance Rian was giving him? She had to answer – had to.
Three.
Rian stared at him, and he saw a flash of sympathy she had for him shine through. After three rings, she didn’t think Liz would answer either.
Four.
She was probably at work. Or was something wrong? Was she in trouble? How could he find her?
Five.
“Hi, you’ve reached Liz Parker….”
Max’s heart stopped.
Rian snapped the phone shut and remained quiet, watching as another piece of this already broken man shattered right in front of her. She could see the pain so visibly in his body; she nearly reached out to steady him, but at the last moment resolved herself and remained rooted in place.
“I’m not lying to you when I say she’s okay, Max.”
It was the first time she had said his name. The first time she had spoken a sentence to him that wasn’t dripping with sarcasm or malice, but was spoken softly, quietly. For that, Max was grateful. He looked up at her, and tried not to let the devastation to be revealed in his eyes, knew it was futile.
“I know,” he whispered. “I just haven’t…it’s been so long.”
Helpless, Rian opened her mouth to offer him something to ease his worrying, but the shrill chirp of her phone interrupted her. She froze; saw the unguarded hope in his eyes. She looked at her display screen.
“It’s Liz,” she whispered.
She flipped the phone open. Put it on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m just leaving the parking garage.” Liz’s voice crackled from bad reception, but Max closed his eyes, as if relishing the sound.
“How was your first day back?”
The reception cleared and Liz’s voice came through smoothly, “Well enough,” she answered, “I was elbow deep into paper work when Sykes came in and said that Pierce wanted me back on the investigation. I worked with Agent Dawson, dusting the floors for prints. She – ”
Rian’s attention diverted from Max and onto Liz, onto the way she abruptly quieted. She took a step away from Max, her nerves coiling and creating a need to pace, just from that slight hesitation. Max followed her closely.
“She what?” Rian pressed urgently. “Did she find something?”
“No, no,” Liz clarified, and then sighed warily. “I – Shit, I don’t know. It’s just this vibe I got from her, like she knows something. Like she looked right into my eyes and saw the truth.”
Slightly more relieved, Rian stopped and Max collided into her back. “You and I both know that’s not possible, Liz,” she turned to glare at Max, almost pushed him away. “She was probably trying to wear you down. Probably hoped you slip up, give her something to run back to Pierce with.”
“Yeah,” Liz conceded, and then, “Yeah, about that. She said it’s obvious that I’m screwing the boss.”
Even though the disgust in her voice was evident, hearing the words obviously shifted something inside of Max. Rian gazed at him, watching in intrigue as his face went from shock, to anger, and then to impassiveness, all in the span of five seconds.
“Did you set the bitch straight?” Her eyes remained on Max, silently telling him to keep quiet.
Another wary sigh drifted over the line. “I tried. I suppose I could have tried harder, but what’s the point? I should have known my credibility would come into question when Pierce put me on this case. His infatuation with me has been evident since the moment I joined the Special Unit.”
“I think I speak for everyone when I say it’ll be a damn good day when all of this is over.”
Liz actually laughed, “Yeah, I’m working on that,” she murmured. “Listen, I’m going run through Hardee’s and grab a bite. Are you coming over tonight? I gotta tell you, this sensation in my arms is – ”
Quickly, Rian turned off the speaker and brought the phone to her ear. Her gaze hardened on Max’s when opened his mouth in protest. The words were clear in her eyes – you heard enough.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Give me a couple hours. Okay. Yeah. Bye,” Rian pocketed the phone, her eyes still locked with Max’s. “See? She’s fine.”
“What was she talking about? What sensation?” Max demanded; initially, he wanted to question what she had diverged in reference to Pierce. He knew from the others that Pierce had been the one in charge. But the next tidbit of information she had relinquished – the strange sensations in her arms – captured his attention like nothing else could. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine,” Rian told herself she wasn’t lying. Not that it should matter anyway; she didn’t owe him anything. She wasn’t obligated to be truthful to him. But lying was becoming exceedingly difficult for her to accomplish. “She’s tired. She’s healing from a head injury. It’s nothing.”
She could tell by the hard-set of his jaw, the intense penetration of his gaze that he wasn’t convinced. Thankfully, he didn’t press, but took what she gave him as a gift.
“What are the odds that I can be around the next time you call her again?”
To her surprise, Rian felt the corners of her lips quirk. “Not good,” she answered honestly. “This was your one and only freebie. You’re back to being on need-know-basis only. No,” she interrupted when he opened his mouth to protest, all her hostility come back full force. “I’m picking up the pieces you guys left behind. Now give her some damn breathing room. She’ll come out when she’s ready.”
And with that, she settled her shades back on her face and walked past him.
<center>* * *</center>
Liz locked the door behind her and then punched in the security code. Immediately, the tension left her body, and her shoulders sagged with relief. Being home, knowing that four, nearly impenetrable walls surrounded her eased the knots out of her stomach and the ache from her temples. She dropped her case to the floor and toed off her black pumps, sighing with relief when her feet met the cold surface of the hardwood floor. She leaned against the door and closed her eyes.
Her second day of work finished with little to no confrontation. Pierce remained at a distance now that Liz made it a habit to ignore him. Only speak to him when spoken to and using a tone that could only be described as brusque. Gone was the politeness that she had kept constantly in place for fear of being removed from the Special Unit, and in its place was a hard bite to her every response. She wished she could say that the change was gone because she had done her part, gotten the others out safely and hidden away, but she knew that was a lie.
She was pissed off. Everyday she remembered the way it felt to be pressed against her own kitchen table by a hard, unyielding body, to be nearly violated in her own home. He didn’t deserve her politeness or her professionalism, and though she somehow sensed that this new attitude only fueled the anger inside of him, she welcomed it. She could handle his anger. It was his advancements that made her stomach coil and clench.
Liz pushed away from the door and strolled into the kitchen. She bent and opened the bottom cabinets to scoop out two cup-fills of dog chow and spilled them into the bowls. From her upstairs bedroom she heard the hastily scrapings of dog claws on the floor as her two babies clambered out of the bedroom and down the stairs. A smiled broke widely as they first rushed her to attack her face in doggy kisses, and then attacked their suppers with equal gusto.
It wouldn’t be long now, Liz knew. Soon she’d have to pack up everyone and get them on the move – get them out of Arizona. But not before she took care of Pierce and his Unit.
Her hand unconsciously clenched as she reached into the cupboard above the stove for a can of quick and easy soup. She could still feel the foreign powers coursing through her veins, but she had become so used to the sensations that sometimes she even forgot they were there.
Rian said it was a good sign; it meant her control over her powers was increasing. Liz could attest to that with last evenings “training session,” as Rian had dubbed it. She could now erect what she could only think to call a force field – a beautiful, shimmer-y red wall that surrounded her, protected her. She also knew the strength of that wall, as Rian had insistently hurled giant, green globes of energy – one, right after the other – until Liz had weakened and her wall had started to waver.
“You last ten minutes,” she had said. “That’s not good.”
Well, Liz thought it was damn good, and refused to dwell on Rian’s comment and her own shortcomings. She knew that it was something that she’d be able to maintain once she became more adept with her powers, and wished she could practice now. But she’d gotten a text, just as she was exiting the parking garage, from Rian – telling her she was called into with the team to talk down a hostage taker. After that, there would be the paper work. Liz had deftly handled both the car and the cell phone as she relayed a text back informing Rian that day of rest was in order.
It wasn’t like it was going to be a complete day of rest anyway. Liz spilled the soup into a bowl and heated it with a swipe over her hand. She could still work on the little things.
Anxious to get some food into her belly, Liz grabbed a box of crackers and hurried into the living room. She snuggled against the arm of the couch, set the soup and crackers on the side table, and then draped a blanket over her legs. She wanted to watch TV, but the remote was across the room. Shrugging, Liz turned the TV on without it and channel surfed as she ate a bite. She grimaced, still unable to completely mask the bitter taste that occurred when ever she heated her food this way. But it was starting to diminish, was in fact, diminished enough that she could consume the bowl, instead of dumping it and starting from scratch like last time.
Liz stopped on the History Channel, intrigued by a discussion about aliens and UFOs not only in her hometown, but also across the world. She smirked as one man adamantly insisted that there were no intelligent life forms out there in the universe, aside from our own. If he only knew.
She had just finished the soup and more than half the crackers when her phone rang. Before she even picked it up to answer, she knew who it was.
“Hello, Jon.”
He laughed. “Knew it was me, did you? How is that, Betsy-Ann?”
She always grinned when he used the nickname he gave her. “Well, only because it’s been over twelve hours since you last checked on me.”
“You know my routine now, I guess. And, yes, ma’am, I am checking on you. You do sound better, I’ll admit that.”
“I feel much better,” she assured him, and knew it wasn’t a lie. “Thank you.”
Jonaphan was silent a moment, and Liz got an uneasy feeling in her stomach before he even said the words, “Are we going to talk about what happened?” He pressed quietly.
She sighed. “You know the answer to that, Jon.”
“’Spose I do. I just wished you’d talk to me about it. Tell me what happened, why it happened.” he sighed, too. “But I guess you don’t have the answers to those questions yourself, do you?”
No, she did. But she wasn’t about to tell him. “No,” she lied, and then tried for a more convincing tone in her voice. “But I can tell you that I am doing fine. I think Pierce has finally gotten a clue –”
“Have you filed an official complaint against the bastard?” He bit out.
There would be no point in that. “No,” she murmured and then hurried on before he could throw in his angry protest. “But I’ll be leaving the Special Unit soon, anyway. There’s no point.”
Jon latched onto that segue. “Why are you leaving, darlin’? You’re not letting him run you out are you? You should stand up for yourself, don’t let him –”
“I’m not leaving because of him,” she interrupted. Not entirely, anyway. Again, she sighed and pressed herself deeper into the cushions of the couch. “I just need a change. I don’t think I like playing FBI agent anymore, Jon.”
“I know, sweetie, you even sound tired of it. You don’t seem to have the same spunk that you had when we were partners, though I suspect the fact that we aren’t partners anymore is why,” he chuckled. “So, - hey, I have an idea! Why don’t you come on up here to Montana? Take a nice vacation. Hang out with your favorite country boy and just relax. I guarantee you won’t ever want to go back, darlin’.”
“That sounds wonderful,” she sighed. It truly did.
“But?”
“But, I have things here that I need to do first,” she answered. “But, why don’t you go ahead and clean out the spare room anyway? Because you better believe as soon as I have everything taken care of I’ll be taking you up on that offer.”
Jon laughed. “I’ll get right on that, sweetie.”
They spoke for several minutes longer. Jon probing her for more information on anything he thought to be useful, but she stealthily dodged his every attempt. He grinned. She was a good agent, knew how to feed him line without giving him very far to go. Finally, they said their goodbyes, reminding her that he’d call her tomorrow, and he flipped shut his cell phone.
The AC felt good on his face. Arizona was damn hot. He had half hoped that Liz would take him up on his offer to go to Montana, so that he’d be back in the mountains, out of this heat. Yet, on the other hand, he had things to do here and leaving home again would just be more difficult.
He settled against the rough, itchy sheets. This sure wasn’t the finest hotel he’d ever stayed in, but he supposed he’d had worse. His mind relayed the information the mole had given him. The event of the past couple days – if interesting – were non-conclusive. It wasn’t anything that he could report back with as solid evidence to take action now. Though the test results the mole had intercepted, about blood on a scalpel, was very interesting indeed. He’d keep that to himself for now, wait and see if he got anything else and then he’d report back to the big man.
Right now, he’d continue with the strict surveillance and the blending in. Jon plucked the cotton balls from his cheeks and tossed them in the general direction of the trashcan. He’d gone through a tedious amount of trouble to ensure that if Liz – or anyone else, for that matter – saw him on the streets, then she wouldn’t immediately recognize him. The cotton balls had defined his jaw some more. The blonde dye, and his naturally tanned skin, made him look like a California surfer, but didn’t necessarily make him stand out. His blue eyes were masked behind contacts the color of muddy brown. He wore clothes that covered his lean, hard build, and drove a car that’s sole purpose was to piss him off.
He tucked his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling, relaxed his muscles. It was all part of the job, and would all be over soon.
<center>* * *</center>
Kate Marlow had just stepped from the bubble bath, soapy water sluicing down her wet skin, when she thought she’d heard something. She stilled, cocked her head towards the closed bathroom door, and listened. Was it Ron? Coming to apologize for being such a colossal moron?
She glanced at the clock in the shape of a happy sun, hanging over the toilet. Why would he be coming over at such a late hour?
Kate grinned. Unless he had some making up in mind. And wouldn’t that be delicious? With a weeks work of vacation starting the next day, they had plenty of time to make up all they wanted.
She wrapped the robe around her, tying the sash in a loose knot and opened the bathroom door. Alvin, her cat, darted into the bathroom and leaped onto the shelf, knocking down washcloths. Kate rolled her eyes, but her smile widened. It was Ron all right. Alvin hated Ron, and Ron hated Alvin.
Leaning back to check herself in the mirror, she grinned again. Her hair was piled on the top of her head, a few tendrils falling to curve around her ears and jaw. The ends were wet from the bubble bath, and added to the careless look she had going on. She looked damn sexy if she did say so herself.
Satisfied, Kate stepped out in the hallway and looked towards the living room. A single lamplight shone from one corner of the room; the lamp she always left on. She saw a shadow move past, followed by bulky shoulders and a head of full, dark hair.
She stopped – frozen with fear. Ron kept his head shaved.
Silently, she turned, the blood pounding in her ears as she tiptoed to her room as quickly as possible. The phone was on the bedside table; she picked it up, started to dial and then heard a click as the dial tone went dead. Muffling a frightened curse she carefully replaced the receiver and looked towards the window. The four-foot drop would be her only way out. She reached for the latch. Almost had it unlocked when hard hands grabbed her from behind.
One gloved hand bit hard into her cheeks as it covered her mouth, the other pressed into her midriff, subduing her feeble struggles. Then, it roamed, higher and higher until it cupped her breast from beneath the robe. She screamed, kicked, tried to open her mouth and bite. The hand moved from her breast to anchor her back against a hard bodying, making it nearly impossible for her to move. Finally she was able to sink her teeth into a thumb, clamped hard. A deep rumble roared in her ears and then she was shoved face first into the wall. Pain exploded in her head like a sunburst. Her ears rang, her eyes watered, and then she fell on her back.
She blinked, once, maybe twice before darkness consumed her.
TBC