Every Road Leads to You (CC, M/L, Mature) Complete - 04/12
Posted: Tue Apr 12, 2005 6:06 pm
Title: Every Road Leads to You
Author: Valerie Y. (indiana266@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, 20th Century Fox, Regency Television, WB, and UPN. They may belong to other people as well, but definitely not to me. No infringement is intended and no profit has been made from this story.
Pairings/Couples/Category: M/L, CC, Post-Graduation
Rating: Mature - it's probably just Teen, but I'd rather be safe than sorry
Summary: The gang left Roswell at the end of Graduation. What if the Special Unit never stopped chasing them?
Author's Note: Maybe this view of the future is a bit pessimistic, but remember that where there's life, there's always hope And I think this has enough hope to avoid the Alien Abyss 
***********************************
His eyes looked past the clerk and his stomach did a little flip when he saw that the key to number 18 was missing. Could it finally be happening again? He tried not to let his hopes up, but he was here for a reason, after all. He had felt the pull.
She was calling out to him.
He had to ask.
He cleared his throat. “Excuse me…”, he started.
The clerk looked up from the paperwork he was filling out, bored.
“Could you tell me who is in room 18?”
The clerk stared at him for a moment looking vaguely annoyed, and shuffled some papers around.
“Ah… it’s a miss… Temple. Beth Temple.”
Max smiled, a small secretive smile. “I won’t be needing that room. Thank you.”
He left the dumbfounded clerk at the front desk and quickly made his way outside. He walked along the decrepit motel wall until he found the door he was looking for. The screw drilled between the ovals of the 8 was loose and the number hung sideways. The faded green paint on the door was peeling and the yellow it had once been was showing in places. But he didn’t notice any of that. Before he could even raise his fist to knock, the door opened and there she was.
She had felt him coming.
Before he could completely grasp that it was indeed finally happening again, he found himself sitting on the bed, his wife sitting on his lap.
Kissing him breathless.
How long had it been? He couldn’t remember. Right now, he didn’t care to remember. He fisted his hand in her hair and responded to her kisses. When he lay down on his back, taking her with him, she didn’t resist. When he rolled them over so he could rest on top of her, she didn’t protest. And when he removed their clothes and finally came home again, she didn’t object.
And now here they were, lying on the bed facing each other, trying to catch their breath in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
“How did you know to come here?” she asked, looking at him intently. He realized those were the first words either of them had spoken since she had opened that door, if you didn’t count the whispering, moaning and shouting of each other’s names as wave after wave of passion had come crashing over them.
“How did you know to come to Lincoln before?” he countered with a smile.
“How did you know to come to Muncie before that?” she replied.
“How did you know to come to Jackson?” he said softly.
“The same way you knew to come to Phoenix,” she whispered, leaning into him and kissing him tenderly.
He put his arm around her waist and held her body closer to his. Their skin touched everywhere but she still wasn’t close enough. He wanted to lose himself in her again. He never felt satisfied or complete unless they were together like that.
Her sweet kiss deepened and soon he felt the desire stirring inside him once again. He would never get enough of this. He would never get enough of her.
He had thought that she would be his forever when they got married. He should have known better. There would be no happily ever after for their romance. They hadn’t even lived in matrimonial bliss a year when the trouble started again, and the six of them decided that splitting up would be their best chance of survival.
Everyone went their separate ways a bleak autumn morning in Salt Lake City. They had been the last to leave. As they were saying goodbye he had told her, “The 18th of September when I healed you is the day my life began. The 18th of June when I married you is the day my dreams came true. But on this 18th of November, I put my heart on hold. It won’t truly beat again until it beats with yours.”
He had kissed her then, a long, slow, desperate kiss and when he had leaned his forehead against hers she had hoped with all her being that they could find another way. That they didn’t have to go on alone. She had felt all the love he had inside him engulf her and she knew this had to be temporary. Fate couldn’t do this to them once again. They would find a way to be together. There was just so much love – too much love – between them; it had to count for something. So she had watched him go with tears in her eyes but hope in her heart.
It had taken them almost two years, but they had found their way to one another.
It had been a bright day in Phoenix; the sky was the purest blue she had ever seen. She had woken up that morning with a song in her soul. She knew he was near.
She had left her camping site early to walk through the city streets, feeling him with every step she took, expecting to see him on every street corner. Her good spirits had been dampened somewhat when she had failed to cross his path, but it only made her joy that much sweeter when she reached her tent that evening, on camping lot #18, to find that he was cooking hamburger on the little butane grill she had been using.
He had turned to her, grinned slowly and said, “I figured you’d be hungry after all the walking you did today.”
She had only nodded before running into his arms. The forgotten hamburgers had grown cold but the racoons hadn’t minded.
They had stayed almost a week like that, rarely leaving the tent, making plans for the future. They thought that if they were careful they could maybe stay together. Obviously, six was a large number to try and hide, but two shouldn’t be that hard. Being apart was torture on both of them.
They had been at the lake when the Special Unit found them, happily splashing around in the water like children. There hadn’t even been time for a kiss. They had looked at each other for a moment and she had smiled that sad, resigned smile that tore his soul apart. He had told her he loved her and they had both run in opposite directions. Much later that night, as he hid in a forest, he had felt that she had made it out of there too and was safe for the time being. He had said a little prayer of thanks to the stars watching above them and vowed that he would find her again.
But the next time, it was she who had found him. About 15 months later, in Mississippi. Their happiness had lasted 12 days then. Five days in Indiana, only two in Nebraska. Who knew how long they’d have here?
He wasn’t sure how they always found one another. He didn’t really care, as long as they did. He could always sort of feel her, on the edge of his consciousness, and he knew it was the same for her. And whenever they were near each other, it was a pull deep down in their gut that led them to whatever motel on the outskirts of town where they sat in room 18 and patiently waited for their other half to find them.
She had finally fallen asleep, her head nestled on his shoulder. He didn’t have as clear a view of her as he would have wanted, but he didn’t dare move for fear he would wake her. He didn't want to fall asleep. He wanted to be awake the whole time he was with her, because he knew these moments spent in her arms would have to sustain him until the next time their roads led them to one another.
As he fought a losing battle with the Sandman and let her deep breathing lull him to sleep, he prayed that this time they wouldn’t have to run. Maybe this time they could settle down and start living the lives they both so desperately wanted. Maybe…
But he knew better.
The end.
Thanks for reading!
Author: Valerie Y. (indiana266@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, 20th Century Fox, Regency Television, WB, and UPN. They may belong to other people as well, but definitely not to me. No infringement is intended and no profit has been made from this story.
Pairings/Couples/Category: M/L, CC, Post-Graduation
Rating: Mature - it's probably just Teen, but I'd rather be safe than sorry
Summary: The gang left Roswell at the end of Graduation. What if the Special Unit never stopped chasing them?
Author's Note: Maybe this view of the future is a bit pessimistic, but remember that where there's life, there's always hope
And I think this has enough hope to avoid the Alien Abyss ***********************************
His eyes looked past the clerk and his stomach did a little flip when he saw that the key to number 18 was missing. Could it finally be happening again? He tried not to let his hopes up, but he was here for a reason, after all. He had felt the pull.
She was calling out to him.
He had to ask.
He cleared his throat. “Excuse me…”, he started.
The clerk looked up from the paperwork he was filling out, bored.
“Could you tell me who is in room 18?”
The clerk stared at him for a moment looking vaguely annoyed, and shuffled some papers around.
“Ah… it’s a miss… Temple. Beth Temple.”
Max smiled, a small secretive smile. “I won’t be needing that room. Thank you.”
He left the dumbfounded clerk at the front desk and quickly made his way outside. He walked along the decrepit motel wall until he found the door he was looking for. The screw drilled between the ovals of the 8 was loose and the number hung sideways. The faded green paint on the door was peeling and the yellow it had once been was showing in places. But he didn’t notice any of that. Before he could even raise his fist to knock, the door opened and there she was.
She had felt him coming.
Before he could completely grasp that it was indeed finally happening again, he found himself sitting on the bed, his wife sitting on his lap.
Kissing him breathless.
How long had it been? He couldn’t remember. Right now, he didn’t care to remember. He fisted his hand in her hair and responded to her kisses. When he lay down on his back, taking her with him, she didn’t resist. When he rolled them over so he could rest on top of her, she didn’t protest. And when he removed their clothes and finally came home again, she didn’t object.
And now here they were, lying on the bed facing each other, trying to catch their breath in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
“How did you know to come here?” she asked, looking at him intently. He realized those were the first words either of them had spoken since she had opened that door, if you didn’t count the whispering, moaning and shouting of each other’s names as wave after wave of passion had come crashing over them.
“How did you know to come to Lincoln before?” he countered with a smile.
“How did you know to come to Muncie before that?” she replied.
“How did you know to come to Jackson?” he said softly.
“The same way you knew to come to Phoenix,” she whispered, leaning into him and kissing him tenderly.
He put his arm around her waist and held her body closer to his. Their skin touched everywhere but she still wasn’t close enough. He wanted to lose himself in her again. He never felt satisfied or complete unless they were together like that.
Her sweet kiss deepened and soon he felt the desire stirring inside him once again. He would never get enough of this. He would never get enough of her.
He had thought that she would be his forever when they got married. He should have known better. There would be no happily ever after for their romance. They hadn’t even lived in matrimonial bliss a year when the trouble started again, and the six of them decided that splitting up would be their best chance of survival.
Everyone went their separate ways a bleak autumn morning in Salt Lake City. They had been the last to leave. As they were saying goodbye he had told her, “The 18th of September when I healed you is the day my life began. The 18th of June when I married you is the day my dreams came true. But on this 18th of November, I put my heart on hold. It won’t truly beat again until it beats with yours.”
He had kissed her then, a long, slow, desperate kiss and when he had leaned his forehead against hers she had hoped with all her being that they could find another way. That they didn’t have to go on alone. She had felt all the love he had inside him engulf her and she knew this had to be temporary. Fate couldn’t do this to them once again. They would find a way to be together. There was just so much love – too much love – between them; it had to count for something. So she had watched him go with tears in her eyes but hope in her heart.
It had taken them almost two years, but they had found their way to one another.
It had been a bright day in Phoenix; the sky was the purest blue she had ever seen. She had woken up that morning with a song in her soul. She knew he was near.
She had left her camping site early to walk through the city streets, feeling him with every step she took, expecting to see him on every street corner. Her good spirits had been dampened somewhat when she had failed to cross his path, but it only made her joy that much sweeter when she reached her tent that evening, on camping lot #18, to find that he was cooking hamburger on the little butane grill she had been using.
He had turned to her, grinned slowly and said, “I figured you’d be hungry after all the walking you did today.”
She had only nodded before running into his arms. The forgotten hamburgers had grown cold but the racoons hadn’t minded.
They had stayed almost a week like that, rarely leaving the tent, making plans for the future. They thought that if they were careful they could maybe stay together. Obviously, six was a large number to try and hide, but two shouldn’t be that hard. Being apart was torture on both of them.
They had been at the lake when the Special Unit found them, happily splashing around in the water like children. There hadn’t even been time for a kiss. They had looked at each other for a moment and she had smiled that sad, resigned smile that tore his soul apart. He had told her he loved her and they had both run in opposite directions. Much later that night, as he hid in a forest, he had felt that she had made it out of there too and was safe for the time being. He had said a little prayer of thanks to the stars watching above them and vowed that he would find her again.
But the next time, it was she who had found him. About 15 months later, in Mississippi. Their happiness had lasted 12 days then. Five days in Indiana, only two in Nebraska. Who knew how long they’d have here?
He wasn’t sure how they always found one another. He didn’t really care, as long as they did. He could always sort of feel her, on the edge of his consciousness, and he knew it was the same for her. And whenever they were near each other, it was a pull deep down in their gut that led them to whatever motel on the outskirts of town where they sat in room 18 and patiently waited for their other half to find them.
She had finally fallen asleep, her head nestled on his shoulder. He didn’t have as clear a view of her as he would have wanted, but he didn’t dare move for fear he would wake her. He didn't want to fall asleep. He wanted to be awake the whole time he was with her, because he knew these moments spent in her arms would have to sustain him until the next time their roads led them to one another.
As he fought a losing battle with the Sandman and let her deep breathing lull him to sleep, he prayed that this time they wouldn’t have to run. Maybe this time they could settle down and start living the lives they both so desperately wanted. Maybe…
But he knew better.
The end.
Thanks for reading!