Title: Returns
Author: MissAnnThropic
E-Mail: miss_annthropic@yahoo.com
Spoilers: Destiny
Summary: Liz left after the revelation in the pod chamber, thinking it was best for everyone, and now she's going back to Roswell.
Disclaimer: None of it's mine. I'm just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching taped episodes of her favorite shows :(



I'm Liz Parker, and three years ago I made a choice. Back then I had rationalized it as a choice of reason, and choice of levelheadedness, a choice of well thought out consequences. I know now that was complete bullshit. Look at me... saying, er, writing 'bullshit' in the book that once meant my soul to me. I used to write in this journal and felt it was the core of me, that anyone who read it would get a reading of what I am, who I am, and now I'm writing 'bullshit' in the dictionary of the inner workings of my soul. God... am I fucked up.

I've thought about that choice for three long years... tried to convince myself of the justifications I gave to my friends... the excuses I made to Maria and Alex... that's what they were, excuses. I know now that none of them were true... not even close.

That choice so long ago (or at least it seems that way), that choice that changed my entire life and has robbed me of my sleep for the whole time after it was made was not one of careful, clinical thought. It was a choice of fear. I was afraid, and now that I have admitted it I know that I still am. I probably always will be... damnit, life can really screw you over sometimes. Hell, who am I kidding... I screwed myself over.

Max Evans... my life changed in an instant because of that magical man. Even the name brings a spark to my heart that I have not felt for so long.

Three years ago, when I was innocent little Liz Parker, sophomore in Roswell High and totally in love with my boyfriend, totally nonhuman Max Evans, things decided to change. Tess came.

Things got hairy, but all that has been told before... these pages are probably the only other THINGS that know of those events besides those who were there. Anyway... a little stint in the cave, visits by ghosts, and suddenly Max wasn't mine anymore... he was Tess's.

Even now I still know he didn't want to be... he wanted to be mine, but things just weren't going to work that way. I knew it and I hope by now he knows it. Destiny is destiny, after all. Anyway, I broke up with him... told him not to try to talk me out of it... yadda...yadda...yadda.

I got home that night, feeling as if I were dying inside. I felt that being close to him at that point was what was killing me. Somehow I got it in my head that distance would cure the pain... I told myself that, anyway. I had to tell myself something... to think that the pain I was feeling was incurable and beyond my control WOULD have killed me.

I conspired to talk to nearly everyone in my family the next day. Long story short, I found an aunt in New York who I actually remember. She liked me, took care of me a few times. It took a lot of talking, but I convinced my parents that the fast track environment was what my career and education needed. Honestly, I don't really remember what it was that made my story so believable... maybe I cried and they felt bad for me. I don't remember that part of the story... all I remember after that was packing four days later.

And so here I am... I have been living in New York with my aunt for three years. Shit... I can't believe I've been out of Roswell for that long. Everyone in that dinky town dreams of leaving... now here I am in the Big Apple for three years and the whole fucking time I can't stop thinking about Roswell.

More specifically, I can't stop thinking about Max. How are he and Tess now? Have they DONE it? Are they living together? Did all four of them leave... are they even still on earth?

The questions go on and on... all pretty much focused around the same central idea. Anyway... I can't take it anymore. I haven't been back to Roswell in three entire years, and aside from my parents and Maria have kept as little contact with my home town as possible. The fewer I speak to the less risk I run of hearing any news whatsoever about Max. Even with just my mom, dad, and Maria there have been close calls. A few times I was talking with my mom on the phone (damn me if I can't figure out this different time zone thing and call her during the cafe's open hours), and she'll say my name. I cringe when she does that... I hate to think of what IF Max is there and knows I'm on the other end of the phone... in contact with Roswell, New Mexico. A few times I've heard his voice in the background, speaking to my mother asking in a soft voice, "Liz?" I tell my mom I don't want to talk to him, hear about him, or listen to any messages from him. I've let go, why can't he?

The truth was, I had anything but let go. I was fixated... fixated on the idea of forgetting about him, but to do that would have required me to stop thinking about that! I was basically a mess.

Anyway, after three years of not seeing my family and friends, I'm on my way home. New York was... it was not Roswell. I was small town girl trying to live in a big city. I felt quite the outsider and I had to learn to harden to the ways of the big city. I'll look forward to being in a place where I can put down my guard... I miss that feeling of safety.



Liz shut her journal, sighing heavily and looking out her window at the approaching welcome sign, "Now Entering Roswell, New Mexico." The sight stirred strange feelings in Liz, like that of tainted childhood bliss. Roswell was home, where she grew up, but now that Max's memory was there too... it was like a rotten spot on a perfectly good apple. She wanted to feel relief at being home, but she couldn't... not without feeling the tension of apprehension.

Liz looked down at her book. She herself had changed... city life transforming Liz in ways that only her family would perceive... to Liz they had just become her... merging slowly into what she used to be to make her what she now was.

Her hair was longer, quite a bit longer. She no longer pinned up sections of hair in cute little clips... that was childish. Her straight, dark hair feel flat beside her face. Her face was paler... much more ghostly looking. Her eyes weren't as lively, tinged red from having adapted to seeing in the smog of the city. The milk chocolate brown they used to be now seemed black and dark. Her clothes were drab, black leather pants, a black tank top and a dark brown coat. That was how she survived in the city... she faded in to the background. She had long ago stopped wearing make-up, her face now splotched here and there with adolescent imperfections... not that she cared. Her fingernails were barely passable as nails... she developed the nasty habit of biting them down nearly to the quick. She was thinner, merely stress from everything that had happened in her life recently.

She looked up again, feeling the bus downshift as it slowed. She saw the bus station approaching. For the first time in a long while she smiled. She could see her mother, father, Maria, and Alex standing around waiting eagerly for her. After living for so long in that mass of indifferent crowd, it felt like a new and invigorating experience for someone to be waiting for her, wanting her to come at all.

The bus stopped, Liz gathered her brown leather backpack, and filed off the bus.

She was first greeted by stares. None of her family had seen her and all her subtle changes screamed at them. They all looked the same to Liz... it was like stepping back in time but somehow seeing with diseased eyes. She remembered how this sight used to make her feel, but she was different now... inside, and that forever altered how things on the outside looked... even those things most familiar.

Liz was enveloped in hugs after the shocked moment of silence. Liz greeted her old life, thanking each person there for coming. Her father and Alex gathered her duffel bags from the bus cargo space and took her home.



Liz stood before her mirror. She was standing in her old room, little changed, but it felt like a museum exhibit. Relics of a time passed and never to return. She looked around at her things and felt shame. How could she have ever been so naive... innocent... weak. She had been vulnerable... the soft colors and order to her room proved it.

Liz nodded to herself... New York had been good for her. She was world wise now... knew better than to believe in the dreams of a child. It even startled Liz to remember that her youthful love had been an alien... because aliens just don't exist.

Liz turned to look at her reflection again. She already had her best pair of shiny, black leather pants on. Her black bra was all that covered her torso as she contemplated her remaining attire. She was going to walk the town and wanted to look good to greet her old haunts and ghosts.

She looked down at herself in the mirror. She let her eyes drop to her stomach, studying her belly button ring. She smirked to herself... 'that would be the last thing Roswell expected of perfect little Liz Parker, let's make sure I wear a shirt so that everyone can see my navel piercing.'

Liz pulled out a black, long-sleeved midriff. She put it on it, studied her reflection again. Her long hair was already brushed, lying obediently on her head and alongside her face flatly. She nodded to herself, then turned and gathered her small brown backpack/purse. She didn't need anything in it, but it was ingrained habit to carry it, for in it she still had the only things that had made her feel safe in New York. She had her house keys, pepper spray, a brush, a hair clip, and a rather large pocket knife.



Liz strolled down the streets, gazing at all she used to know. She still knew it all... every turn in the road, every shop on the side of the road, but it was as if it were basic vocabulary. Since then she had learned to master words, and to look back on the alphabet was a mix of gratitude and condensation. Still... she was glad to be home. The air was so clean... she never noticed THAT before when she used to live in Roswell... now she was enjoying every breath.

Her eyes still darted to people, gauging their faces as she had people in New York, trying to spot the killers and rapists on a glance. She was searching for the shadows, poised at each corner to go into action. It used to tire her when she first learned to be aware. It had seemed like constant studying, but after a few months it became involuntary. The prey instinct was awakened in her and took over... she just NOTICED her surroundings like a wild animal, never knowing where death could leap out at it. Liz was a field mouse. Liz smirked to herself and thought of the impressive knife in her pocket, 'this mouse has bite.'



Liz walked toward the park. It was one of her fondest early childhood memories. Memories that were pre-alien boyfriend. Liz frowned at the memory of the alien boyfriend, not even thinking his name anymore. She focused on reaching the park.

The equipment was older, the trees were smaller than she remembered, but it was her park. She could remember the hiding place underneath the slide where her and Maria had buried Alex's G.I. Joes. She smiled at the thought... the memory.

She stepped on to the sand, her combat boots sinking gently and barely into the earth. Liz stepped toward the old swing set. She could remember spending countless hours swinging in that set. She would always try to reach the stars, sometimes closing her eyes and letting the wind give her the sensation of flying.

Liz reached one of the empty swings. There were no children at the park... it was like an abandoned friend. Kids had video games now... high tech ones... ones where you could probably play you were a kid on a playground.

Liz sat slowly in one of the swings, resting her head on the chain for a moment. She felt sad... sad for the park. Nothing in the town had upset her... only made her feel more grown up, but this...

This park had been a haven for innocence, children who did not yet know the pain of later life. For it to be abandoned by the young so soon now... Liz wanted to cry. A park should never know a still day... not if the weather was as nice as it was today. Since when did her hometown die?

Liz was slowly beginning to rock back and forth, soothing her old and lonely friend, when she noticed someone at the picnic tables.

There was a man sitting at one of the picnic tables by the trees. He was alone... completely. He was reading a book, buried in it and lost to the world. Liz knew that kind of 'lost in a book'. She'd seen that look in New York on countless faces. It wasn't a look of complete enthrallment because the book was so good, it was burying oneself in the pages to hide from the world.

Liz stared at the man for a long time. He was too far for Liz to recognize, though from his age if he was a longtime resident of Roswell she probably knew him. As Liz watched the lone man, it occurred to her that she had not seen someone in Roswell that she felt she could relate to... until now. The city had filled her with a desolation... a sadness and apathy that just didn't seem to exist in little old Roswell. People in this small town always had an opinion, a strong feeling for or against anything and everything. No one just shrugged and looked away, content not to have an opinion at all.

Liz felt a longing... a homesickness for New York, for the ways of the streets, that she had no idea she would actually miss. She missed the faceless masses, passing by without a second glance at you... maybe that one time in question being the only time he/she would ever see you or maybe the thousandth time they'd seen you, but each the same as the other. She missed the lack of identity. She came from being someone to being a no one... which took a while to adjust to, but now she was someone again. She wasn't a nameless face, she was Liz Parker, local girl gone astray and returned home. To be someone again, to have a name again, was unsettling... she felt watched, studied, judged.

Liz blinked out of her little world of thought, watching the man. From his profile she could see at least some of what the guy was like. She'd gotten good at that too, studying people not as a person but as a specimen, an individual animal in a species with an unspoken language.

The man was wearing a T-shirt that literally hung off of him. He was gaunt... thin. His skinny arms, which held the book up to his hunkered down face, were emaciated. His hair was longish... not really LONG, not like a girl, but it was slightly surpassing just bushy. It was disheveled, needing of a good brushing. His posture told Liz more than anything. He was huddled over the book, as if wishing to curl into it and disappear from the world. His legs were tucked up tightly under his body, protecting himself from the world as much as possible.

Liz studied... she felt no sympathy, no sorrow, no disgust... she just studied. Even the city could not kill the scientist in her heart. That was one thing that had not died in her when she left Roswell.

The man was obviously lonely, he just seemed to emanate the feeling of loneliness and solitude.

He was timid, unconfrontational. He probably ran from fights, shunning the idea of facing anyone. He was passive, a follower if anything... probably couldn't lead anyone if forced to take command of any task, however menial. He was miserable... probably wouldn't mind too terribly if the grim reaper showed up in front of him and invited him to his home. He was withdraw... maybe hadn't talked in earnest to another human being in months, if not years.

Liz pulled out of her clinical study to wonder, what was this kind of man doing in Roswell? This was the kind of lonely, heart-weary man she saw littered all over the streets and pubs in New York. He would have been commonplace there, but not in Roswell... in Roswell he was a loner.

Liz watched him, feeling a strange camaraderie with the man at the table. She felt like she knew how he felt, and he might understand how she felt.

Liz rocked a little harder in the swing, finding a strange comfort in the old squeak of the park equipment. She watched the man, wondering who he could be. He couldn't have lived in Roswell his whole life... it was impossible to have that kind of inverted desolation in this town... he must have lived elsewhere... someplace that hardened him. He might have even lived in New York... for that city had a knack for giving people a thick outer skin.

The man suddenly moved. Liz studied this too, getting even further information on what kind of a person he was. His movements were meek, timid and quick like a jittery animal. He kept his eyes down, not interested in taking in his surroundings. He kept his face downcast gathered up his book, then pulled it closely to his chest.

Liz stopped rocking as he began to walk briskly across the park. Liz watched him, his averted face watching his own feet. He didn't notice Liz sitting there... he was making a special effort not to notice people.

Liz sat silently, watching him as he drew nearer. He was a sad man... lost to the world, yet another person who fell between the cracks and was forgotten.

Liz took a moment to study his face as he drew nearer. Her brow furrowed as his features grew closer...clearer. She recognized him, somehow. His face, it was familiar but in an unfamiliar way. Something was hauntingly familiar, but she couldn't quite find what it was.

The man stepped past, mere feet from Liz.

Liz squinted at his face as he passed.

Liz's eyes flew open in instant recognition. She startled and leapt from the swing, stepping backward... away from the man as he continued away from her unabated.

Liz tried to grasp her breath, her thoughts. She was just standing there in a kind of catatonic stare. She tried to hold on to ANY thought to drag her back to reality. When she finally did, it was the one thought that had kicked her mind so harshly before. She no longer felt listless apathy. The single thought lodged in her brain... 'Max?'



Liz returned to the main section of town, walking toward the Crashdown, but stopping in the street and thinking. She quickly changed her mind. She turned and headed toward Maria' house... she needed comfort from a friend, and the old, instinctive part of Liz Parker told her to go to Maria.



Maria met her at the door, same old perky Maria.

Maria took a moment to take in Liz's new appearance, which was still new to Maria. She shook her head, smiled at Liz, then asked, "What's up?"

Liz looked up at Maria, a speechless and stunned look on her face. Maria frowned, "What's wrong?"

Liz choked out weakly, "I saw... I saw..."

Maria ushered Liz inside.



Liz had sat on Maria's bed for nearly ten minutes of silence before she could force out the words, "I saw Max."

Maria, who had been digging through a pile of clothes on her floor, froze instantly. She turned slowly to Liz. Liz knew that face... it was one of pity, regret that Liz had to see what she had.

Liz muttered weakly, "He didn't look like Max... he was...he was so..."

"Different?" Maria asked slowly.

Liz nodded, "Maria... I don't understand."

Maria frowned, a new sadness seeping into her face, and she stepped over to Liz and sat down next to her.

Maria touched Liz's shoulder gently, then said, "Things... things have changed since you left, Liz... changed a lot."

Liz searched Maria's eyes, for the first time she wanted to know what had happened to the town in her absence, "Changed how?"

Maria dropped her hand, "A month after... after you left, our... Czechoslovakian friends had um... had a few problems."

"Problems?" Liz felt concern, pure concern... she'd not felt that in so long, but she was worried for her old friends.

Maria nodded, "Fights mostly. They were... they were always fighting. Well... actually, Max was always fighting with everyone. Isabel, Michael, especially Tess... god did he rip into Tess. Some of the things he said to her in public, like at the Crashdown, were so scathing I'm surprised she stuck around as long as she did."

Liz looked closely at Maria, "Tess is gone?"

Maria nodded sadly, "They all are... everyone but Max. They... they got word from their own kind, some kind of summons to a meeting place up north. Nasedo told them it might be a call from someone who could take them home... uh... I mean HOME."

Liz nodded... she understood. She frowned a moment, then asked, "So they left?"

Maria shook her head, "They did... all of them, everyone but Max. Tess, Michael, and Isabel left nearly three years ago."

Liz frowned, "Why didn't Max go?"

Maria shrugged, "He never told anyone... never spoke to anyone again, really. He... he's changed, Liz. He's so different from the Max you and I knew years ago. This Max... this Max doesn't want to be here, doesn't even want to be alive."

Liz nodded, "I know... I saw the look on his face in the park. God, Liz... Max was..." for the first time in a very long time Liz felt her outer coating crack, her wall against the outer world falter. She fought tears, her face twisting in sadness, "Max was... he was so different. He was so sad... lonely. Oh, Maria." Liz tried to wipe her eyes dry, did not succeed, then whispered more to herself, "Max used to be so vibrant, so alive. He used to be a light of life... he would... he would glow with life. Now... now he doesn't even want to try to burn."

Maria nodded, "I know... it's been this way for a long time. I would have told you, but... but I think somehow Max must have known that he was starting to wither away. He told me one day, very bluntly and quickly, that he didn't want me to tell you about how he was doing. I agreed... I mean, I know there was still some of my old buddy Max in him somewhere, and it was to that Max buried inside that I made the promise."

Liz frowned, then asked, "So the others... they just abandoned him?"

Maria shook her head slowly, "No... I watched them fall apart and drift away for a long time. He abandoned them."

Liz stood, "I have to get out of here."

Maria showed Liz out, telling her in that same old Maria tone, "I'll be here if you need me." Liz had felt a twinge of her old self at the tone... the Roswell Liz Parker rising up in her for a brief moment before street-weary Liz Parker retook control.



Liz had been walking the streets of Roswell for hours. She didn't consciously think about them, she knew the streets by heart, but her mind was anything but idle. She couldn't stop thinking about Max. How could he have changed so drastically? He used to be so strong, so healthy, so alive... now he was the exact opposite of all that.

Liz looked up, finding that she had strolled her way around the town and back to the Crashdown. She looked across the street at her parents' restaurant, then looked up at the building she had strolled to. It was the UFO Museum. She stared up at it a moment. Strangely, the odd feeling she used to get about this building was the same as how she felt now. She felt the same something stir in her as which had stirred in her years ago. A sensation even now she still could not name.

She slowly walked toward the front doors. She rested her hand on the handle, pausing a moment. She didn't know why she was going in here, she didn't understand what was telling her to visit this old haunt, but she did know something inside her was imploring her to step inside. She obeyed, curiosity getting the better of her.



Max sat at the front booth, the tall stool he sat upon perching him up to greet any inquiring guests. It wasn't really necessary, though, he was just sitting there to take a break, relax a little... it was a slow day, anyway.

Max looked down idly at his hands. Their gaunt appearance still startled him. He remembered that they used to look strong to him, capable... now they always looked weak and feeble. He sighed... not that he cared. He didn't care about how much he was wasting away... his body was the last thing to decay. His insides... his heart, his soul... they had slowly started dying three years ago, had been entirely dead for nearly two years.

Thinking back on it now, he still remembered the unbearable pain he'd felt when Maria solemnly told him that Liz left for New York. He asked her when Liz was coming back... Maria was silent a long time, then said she didn't know that Liz would ever come back. That was the beginning... the start of the death in him. It had ravished his emotional state, his mind, his tolerance for school, and finally his spirit. Max had let himself lose all that... he never once tried to fight for it... to keep it. He had no reason to want to... in fact, its hasty retreat seemed to only quicken the final end... the time when Max's body would give out. He never used to wish for death before, but life had just become a burden... a chore of immense expectation. He was ready to be finished with it all... only the last year and a half had the disaster on his mind and heart started to show in his body. Food became inconsequential... he lost weight... all and all, he was finally starting to waste away. He made no attempt to hasten it, but he didn't try to fight it or stop it either... he let it come... succumbed to nature's will upon him.

He blinked slowly, the physical exhaustion that plagued his body bearing down on him again. It seemed like the work days got longer and longer, the work more and more strenuous. It would have upset him had he tried to rise to the occasion, but he just let himself falter... refused to give the extra effort that his part-time job had been asking of him.

Max looked up at the stairs to the front door of the museum. The eerie green light was lighting an empty hall.

Max held his breath for a moment... not really catching it but letting a long breath escape him and delaying the following inhalation. He often wondered if it was possibly to die just because you forgot to breathe... I mean, would the body's natural defenses kick in? If they did, Max certainly didn't feel like his body would care to make the effort to save him.

Max caught a shadow out of the corner of his eye and looked up drowsily, his eyelids heavy and his mind fogged and sluggish.

A young woman had stepped into the museum, standing before the green light. She just stood there, as if she had forgotten what she was doing or what she had come for.

Max looked at her with some detail, simply because he'd not remembered ever seeing her around Roswell.

She was a slim young woman. She wore black combat/hiking style boots that added to the length-effect on her legs, which were hugged tightly by black leather pants. Her flat stomach was exposed, bare... a glinting silver bellybutton ring reflecting light from one of the overhead lights. She wore a black, long-sleeved midriff (in order to expose her bellybutton and its adornment). Her dark hair nearly reached to the bottom of her short shirt... hair flat and straight, nearly hiding from view the shoulder straps to a brown backpack. Max looked up at her face... her shadowed, thin features and dark eyes were strangely familiar, but her expression of apathy made her unknown to him.

Max thought it a curiosity. This girl, whoever she was, looked like a city chick. 'Like New York,' Max thought with a pang that echoed through his body... with such a weak body those reverberations of agony were a lot more unbearable these days than they used to be.

The young woman at the top of the stairs was a lone figure in Roswell, like the only one of her kind. Max's face twisted briefly in how alike he was to the girl... in that respect at least.

The woman moved. Max glanced up at her, only enough to see that she was slowly and silently making her way down the stairs. Max looked down again at his hands. They used to be able to support him, hold himself up... since when had he stopped being useful to even himself?

The woman came into the museum, reached the bottom of the stairs, took two steps toward the booth, then stopped.

The absence of further movement was what made Max looked up again. He found her face again, now seeing her in the light.

Max froze completely... his mind suddenly spinning into lightening speed action. His mind had not come to such sharp and immediate attention in a very VERY long time. Something behind the girl's nearly black eyes... something inside her... he knew her somehow...

Max stood carefully, a hand on the counter to balance himself should he threaten to fall. He stepped back slowly, withdrawing from the front of the booth.

He bumped into the back wall of the little cubicle, leaned into it, then sighed heavily and raggedly. His thin shoulders sagged, his weary eyes grew even more tired, and slowly he found his voice. His words and tone were precarious and weak as he whispered, "Liz?"

The young woman's face did not change. Her stony look of wearied experience did not falter as she answered back in a neutral tone, "Max."

Max felt himself start to shake gently. He stepped aside, backward, and out of the booth. He slowly walked around the outside toward the woman. Liz's eyes followed Max, her expression not changing. She didn't know what to say... what to do... she didn't even know why she had come here.

Max reached the front of the booth, still a good distance from Liz. Max had to lean lightly on the front counter of the booth as he spoke again, "What... what are you doing here?"

Liz's face still showed no real emotion as she answered, "I'm back from New York, I got in yesterday."

Max blinked, opened his mouth to speak, then had to take another breath. He pushed daringly off of the counter and took a single step forward, "How... how long are you visiting?"

Liz paused a moment, glancing down at her feet, then saying, "I'm not visiting... I've come home."

Max stood still, his eyes not leaving Liz for a second, as if she were only a figment of his imagination and would disappear if he looked away.

Max cleared his throat roughly, took a wavering breath, then answered, "I missed you, Liz."

Liz's eyes twitched in something like tortured sorrow, but instead of expressing it in words, she said, "Maria told me that... that Michael and Isabel are gone."

Max stepped back again, needing the security of the booth's sturdy structure once more. Max leaned against the counter, sighed heavily, dropped his head, then said, "Yes... they're gone... and Tess."

Liz interjected, "Max... I didn't come here to talk about Tess."

Max looked up, "What DID you come here to talk about?"

Liz frowned, was silent a long time, then said, "I don't know."

Max was watching Liz, still unable to believe that the dark and desolate person before him was his old Liz Parker. As he studied her, Liz suddenly jerked, every muscle in her body twitching to attention. Her eyes flashed fear and aggression, and she jerked her head to the left. She stared into the darkness, her every sense on edge and alert. Max frowned and turned to see what Liz had heard.

Milton, the UFO Museum owner, walked past with a few files in hand. Max frowned, wondering why the sound of the old ufologist could trigger such a reaction in Liz.

Max glanced back at her. Liz saw it was only Milton stirring in the shadows and her stance eased, her muscles loosening. She looked back at Max, but as Milton moved about the museum forum Max could tell that Liz was constantly aware of where he was and roughly what he was doing. Why was she keeping tabs on him?

Max spoke gently, "Liz... can we talk?"

Liz looked at him a moment, long and searchingly, then she nodded in response.



Max turned once he entered his room, his eyes feeling flighty for even the seconds they had to be off of Liz. He still could not believe she was back, but instead of jubilant joy in the reunion, things were tense.

He and Liz had driven all the way back to Max's house without a word. She kept her eyes down, content on studying her own feet as she strolled along. It looked as if she weren't paying attention, but in fact she was never more alert. She checked out every noise and sound nearby with quick, practiced glances. Max couldn't decide if the looks were like that of predator or prey, and the ambiguity frightened him.

Liz followed Max into his room, closing the door then turning to face him.

Her eyes rose to quickly scan the room, then they fell on Max.

Max felt another part inside of him dying... he felt like he'd lost his Liz, even though she was standing right in front of him. No... this wasn't HIS Liz... his Liz walked with confidence, head held high, his Liz had shining brown eyes that danced with warmth, his Liz had neatly arranged hair, his Liz had some color to her face, his Liz would have smiled at him when she saw him.

Max studied Liz as she stood before him. She made no attempt to start the conversation, she looked around the room idly, waiting for him to speak.

Max felt his tongue slip, he habitually fell back into old habits with Liz, even if this Liz was not the same. He spoke his mind honestly, just expecting her to understand, or at least try to. "I guess neither of us is the person we used to be."

Liz's eyes jerked up to him, watching him as he quickly looked up to meet Liz's gaze.

Liz knew what he was doing... treating her like old times. She could feel a buried part of herself, the old Liz Parker who would have gotten back in step, stir within her. She felt the same old emotion deep inside her. She wanted to respond in kind, part of her was screaming to talk to Max for hours about how things had changed, but it was another part of her that answered, "Yeah... I guess so."

Max frowned, who was this person? Max sighed, then asked, "Would you like to sit down?"

Liz saw him indicate the bed and she walked over to it. She shed her backpack, pulled around to her front, then sat with the small item in her lap.

Max pulled over the chair from his desk, sat down facing Liz, then glanced at the bag in her hands. He commented lightly, "You never used to be one for carrying a purse."

Liz looked down at the bag, moving to set it beside her as she stated softly, "Just the necessities... brush, house keys, knife..." she said each word with the same disregard... one just as meaningless as the next. Max was taken aback and physically sat back farther in his chair as he stared at Liz. Knife? KNIFE? Since when did Liz Parker call a 'knife' a necessity?

Max leaned forward again, trying to shake off the discomfort at her must have list items, telling himself it was just a byproduct of living in New York.

Max got right down to it, seeing that Liz was not interested in idle chit chat (a fact that expedited the death of yet another part within him), "Why did you decide to come back?"

Liz looked up at him, a fleeting flash of something familiar lighting her eyes before she said slowly, "College... I decided I wanted to go to college at home... besides, the New York college I was planning to attend um... well, it kind of ended up getting closed."

Max asked curiously, "Why?"

Liz waved it off, obviously not wanting to dwell on it for one reason or another, "It turned out to be the hub of a drug ring... or overrun by a gang... something like that, I... I don't really remember."

Max was stunned. Liz Parker, A student, going to a school that was shut down for reasons like that?

Max blinked, then asked, "Well... um, which college you going to?"

"UNM."

Max wasn't sure whether to smile or just sit there as he answered so he chose the latter, "That's where I'm going."

Liz nodded vacantly. Max studied her, concerned... frightened. Max sat forward on the edge of his seat, "Liz?"

Liz looked up at him, her dark eyes hollow and expressionless. Max tried not to get creeped out by it, "Why did you leave?"

Liz cracked... the new Liz Parker clearly cracked. The old Liz Parker shone through loud and clear, her eyes coming to life in pain and sorrow, her brow knotting in the attempt to hold back a sob, her mouth clamping tight as she fought a cry. Her eyes came to life, her agony as clear to Max as it had been the day she left him at the cave.

Liz closed her eyes, bit her lip gently, then said in a VERY familiar voice, "You."

Max felt his own face contort in a harrowed emotion. He winced at the thought, then leaned closer, the old Max Evans arising from the dark depths of years of listlessness, "Liz... I didn't want you to go... I would have done anything to keep you here. I loved you."

Liz looked away, regaining some of her composure, the purely familiar Liz now accompanied by the new Liz chaperon. "Max... you wouldn't listen to what EVERYONE was telling you... you weren't paying attention. You had other responsibilities than to... to..."

"You? Liz... you were all I ever thought about. You still are... uh," Old Max was instantly whisked away as he realized that old Max Evans had just confessed to the new Liz Parker that she was still all he thought about. He hated having to get quiet about it, but that sentiment didn't seem right anymore.

Liz looked away, muttering to him softly after a long pause, "Max... I left FOR you... I know you don't believe that, but I left for you. I couldn't let your decision be hard. You could... you could forget me if I left."

Max frowned, the new Max Evans taking over as Max replied with a monotone voice and a neutral expression, "You were wrong. Not a day went by that I didn't think about you."

Liz sighed, the same dull indifference answering in the new Liz Parker persona, "I know... being in New York didn't stop my thinking about you either."

Max didn't know how to respond to that, the new Max Evans not one for talking, even though the person if front of him was in some way his Liz. Max dropped his eyes down to his hands, his frail... weak hands. He sighed inwardly, watching his fingers clamp together.

Liz looked away, thinking, then came back and asked in a rough tone (the new Liz Parker overriding the old one completely), "Why didn't you leave?"

Max looked up slowly to meet her gaze. She stared back at him, that look of a stranger in her eyes. She shrugged, then asked again more forcefully, "Why didn't you leave with the others?"

Max was silent for a long time. He was debating on whether or not to even tell her at all. He looked back up, figuring he would need that coaxing and trustworthy look on Liz's face... the one he'd seen so often before, to be able to confess this to her. He was met by cold, dark eyes. He couldn't find the Liz in there that he cared to share his thoughts with. If his heart was strong enough for it, it would have given a tug... but it wasn't, so it didn't. Max just looked down again at his hands, no intention whatsoever to answer Liz's question.

Liz saw that she was not going to get an answer. She stood abruptly, "I better go."

Max jumped up, the old Max throwing the new body to its feet. Max said quickly and softly, "Liz."

Liz stopped, turning to look at him. Max stepped closer. Liz's eyes instantly became wary out of a conditioned response.

Max stood near her, searching desperately for the old Liz Parker that used to give him a reason for living.

Max raised his hand to touch her.

Liz flinched and stepped away, an automatic response.

Max froze. She'd jumped away from him! Max's eyes flashed the immense pain that had caused him.

Liz regained control over her nearly programed reaction and looked up at Max. She saw the destroyed look on his face. An old part of her felt sorrow at his pain. She studied him for a moment, wishing she could say something to make it better.

While the old Liz Parker might have known what magic words would restore Max's will and spirit, the new one was dumbfounded. To the new Liz Parker, this new Max Evans was even more a stranger to her than the old Max Evans.

Liz struggled with herself on what words to use, then she found the ones that she knew would only serve to get her out of the house, "I have to go."

Max nodded, his spirits and hopes plummeting to the ground. Liz spoke quickly once more before she left, "Max... I'm not who I used to be. Neither are you... you said so yourself." Liz disappeared out the door.

Max went to his bed, sitting precariously on the edge and burying his face in his hands. He didn't cry... he was long past crying... he could only sit there in absolute silence and remember how his Liz had changed... how his Liz was no longer his... he'd lost her again.



Liz sighed heavily. Registration was such a mess. Maria had early registered months before for classes at UNM, but Liz had still been in New York, so here she was in the teeming mass of college-to-be students trying desperately to get classes.

Liz looked down at the trail schedule in her hands. She'd picked all the easy classes she could find... she didn't want to give herself more work than necessary.

She looked up, her eyes skillfully scanning the crowd and searching faces for cruel intent. She felt naked without her knife... she'd left it at home since it WAS illegal to carry weapons on to school property.

Liz's eyes found someone else that she hadn't been looking for. In one of the farther clumps/lines of students was Max Evans. Liz didn't know how to react. She and Max had not spoken in a week... not so much as a single word to each other. They'd seen each other on the streets a few times, but the blank staring became uncomfortable and one of them eventually looked down or walked away. The old Liz inside the new Liz hated that... wanted to run up to Max and talk to him, speak to him, but the new Liz Parker didn't know what to say. She was completely clueless on how to talk to Max anymore. Liz stood there in her own line, staring at Max as he looked down at his own piece of paper.

Max was standing there quietly, eyes dull and lifeless when he finally did look up. He seemed to sense her stare and looked around, soon finding her gaze.

Whereas once they would have exchanged a smile, they now only exchanged blank stares until Liz broke contact and looked away.

She sighed to herself... she never though things would be so different in Roswell. Outwardly it had looked so identical to the old town she grew up in, but secretly things had been turned upside down and inside out. Liz smirked faintly to herself at the deception a town could pull off, as if the location itself was a living, thinking entity.

Liz was lost in her thoughts, thinking to herself idly, when the screams pierced the air.

She didn't really register the rising roar of frantic cries of the crowd as it quickly swelled toward mass hysteria.

Liz turned as people began to cluster, to panic, to run. They looked like trapped animals fighting for freedom, pushing and shoving to run but no one seemed very certain on which direction to run.

Liz looked around, slowly coming back to reality. She heard over the hubbub of chaos a few people scream the name of the danger. "HE'S GOT A GUN!"

Liz shrugged inwardly to herself. She couldn't even force herself to be scared. Someone had brought a gun to registration... not too odd. There had been a strange rash of school shootings, granted Liz thought this was probably the first one at a college.

Liz glanced nonchalantly around, people were running and screaming like a wild mob. The crowd suddenly dropped to the ground almost in unison. Liz watched as if she were an outside spectator.

Liz saw the perpetrator, the only other person in her immediate sight who was standing as well. She could see a young man standing not far from herself with what looked like a 9mm. His eyes were crazed... glazed like that of a shark. Liz thought she heard someone scream her name... maybe one of her old aquaintances from high school, but she wasn't really paying enough attention to be sure.

Liz was still watching in a disconnected fashion when the shots rang out. Not even the cracking bangs of the gun firing could make her twitch.

Liz watched the slide pull back, release a shell, then jerk forward to reload the chamber. She watched the young man's trigger finger grip tighter on the gun. His eyes scanned the crowd, firing randomly into it, his eyes turning to find Liz standing there, as if she were invisible.

She was still thinking idly when she felt an impact in her stomach, almost as if someone had slugged her in the stomach with a balled fist.

Liz didn't feel the pain... she was too dead to the world for that, but she felt the pressure on her body... it was pushing her back. She stepped backward, still under the effect of the force pushing against her, not caring enough to fight it.

She bumped into the brick bench/wall behind her, it catching her at the hips. She dropped to her knees, then lay back on her back. She couldn't see the others very well from here, she was kind of hidden from view behind the brick wall, but not that she really cared.

Liz looked up at her stomach, the effort to lift her head tremendous and almost too much. She could see a dark pool collecting on her stomach and soaking her gray T-shirt red with blood from the bullet wound.

Liz dropped her head, the effort to keep it raised too difficult. She felt her energy draining out of her, she felt herself slipping out of reality.

She smiled to herself at the thought, 'Shot twice in the stomach... this has to be some kind of sign. I guess I am just fated to die from a gunshot wound to the stomach. Hmm... well, no matter, I guess I won't have to worry about registration anymore... I mean, I can't very well go to college if I'm dead.'

Liz's vision was cloudy, but she could still barely make out the students as they quickly began to clear the area. No one even noticed her... tucked away in a corner and bleeding to death. It didn't anger Liz, and she made no effort to call for help. She lay there, feeling the warm liquid grow into a larger pool on her stomach and feeling everything that she was slipping away into the darkness.

Her eyes shut, fluttered, then when she opened them she saw a shadowed figure approaching her.

Liz thought with a neutral mood, 'Must be the shooter come to finish me off... hmm... interesting.'

Liz closed her eyes again, finding the effort to keep them open a trying one. When she opened them again the person had reached her side.

Liz blinked heavily to clear her vision, and even in her fogged state she could not deny surprise. It was not the shooter standing over her... it was Max.

He was kneeling beside her, looking down at her with pure fear and concern on his face. No... fear wasn't the right word... stark terror was more like it. At his all too Max Evans expression Liz could not deny that she felt something within her tug... some part of her old self want to reach out and comfort him.

He leaned in close to her, "Liz... can you hear me?"

Liz did, of course, but she couldn't answer. All she could do was stare up at him from barely opened eyes, still trying to understand why he had come.

Max reached down and pulled up her shirt. She could tell on his face when he saw the bullet wound... she saw his face flinch as he winced heavily.

Max glanced up at her eyes again, a knowing look. Liz knew it... the way her and Max used to be able to speak without words... they were doing it again. He was talking to her with his eyes and Liz understood. She wondered if he understood the look that passed into her eyes as well, a look that told him she understood what he wanted.

Max placed his hand over the bullet hole, palm completely covering the source of Liz's bleeding. He stared at it a moment, then looked up and met Liz's eyes. Liz held eye contact with him, knowing that's what he wanted.

Max felt the slick blood under his fingers, could feel how cold Liz's skin was in comparison, could feel with his hypersensitve touch her heartbeat growing weaker... slower. He focused on Liz, looking into her eyes and concentrating of fixing the damage to her stomach.

He suddenly began to see things... flashes from Liz's mind. He saw her packing three years ago... he saw her crying... he saw her writing in her journal about New York while backed into a corner of a dank apartment... he saw her huddled in a dark corner of an ally, scared to death to come out and face the city. He saw her loneliness, her sorrow, her pain.

Max winced as the visions suddenly left. He grimaced, then looked down at his hand on Liz's abdomen. He lifted it slowly. Beneath the blood Liz's skin was completely intact.

Liz closed her eyes, trying to gather some of her strength now that she was expected to live.

Max dropped down next to her. Liz swallowed heavily, turned her head to look at him, then struggled to speak.

Max opened his eyes and looked up at her. He saw her about to speak and struggled to quickly bring his hand up to her mouth, pressing a finger against her lips. She was confused, but Max softly whispered in a hoarse voice, "The shooter might not be gone yet... let's just... wait here."

Liz could see he was exhausted. Max's body didn't have the stamina for that kind of healing anymore, and healing Liz had really wiped him out.

Liz was quiet, as ordered. She needed the time to regain her own strength. She took deep, collecting breaths, closing her eyes and lying there almost as if she were asleep.

Max was watching her. The old Max in him couldn't stop watching Liz. After what just happened he had been taken back to the cafe three years ago... nearly four, when he'd saved Liz the first time.

Max shuddered as he took in a deep breath and frowned. How he missed the old Liz, his sister, Michael, how things used to be.

Max lay there, eyes shut, wishing things could be like they were. He opened his eyes and the sight of Liz reminded him that they never could be. Liz lay before him... so different. Her face pale, her eyes listless most of the time. Her shirt was still hiked up, and beneath the smears of blood he could see the glint of the silver loop in Liz's navel. Her drab clothes, her lifeless hair. Max closed his eyes again... not wanting to see any of it. He wanted life the way it was before... he wanted Liz back... his Liz... the old Liz.

Liz stirred. She sat up, peeking around the corner of the brick wall. Max tried to reach for her, the old Max in him still trying to protect her, but he didn't have the strength to sit up and he couldn't reach her from where he lay.

Liz looked around, trained eyes scanning quickly. For the first time she was incredibly thankful for her acute awareness and fine tuned senses as she studied every shadow in sight searching for the shooter.

She sat back and looked down at him. He looked back up at her, hesitant. What would she do? What would she say?

Liz checked over her shoulder once more, then turned back to Max, "He's gone."

Max sighed, though not really sure why. Sure, he didn't want anything to happen to Liz, but he wasn't really scared. The worst case scenario would be that Max would have to come to Liz's defense (a thought that caused him not even a split second's hesitation) and get shot himself, and how was that so bad?

Liz studied Max for a while, then went into action.

Max opened his eyes when he heard Liz move, and he was literally confused to absolute silence as Liz moved toward him.

Liz gripped Max's arm, pulling on him. Max knew now... she was helping him sit up.

Max struggled upright, leaning and depending heavily on the support Liz offered.

Liz grabbed him tightly, then used all her strength to scoot him over to the brick wall. She propped him against the red brick, then let him go and sat back.

Max sighed at the great physical exertion, then he opened his weary eyes to look at Liz.

Liz was staring at him, a very confused look on her face... as if Max Evans was a total enigma to her.

Max returned the stare, no one speaking for a long time.

Liz finally asked in a voice charged with underlying emotion, "Why did you do that, Max? Why did you save me again?"

Max eyed her, wondering if she could be serious, "What do you mean?"

Liz frowned, "We've changed so much... grown apart... why would you risk that, everything, again to save me after all that has happened... to us... between us?"

Max was quiet a moment, trying to find the words for what he was feeling, and finally he managed to say (with a small smile fighting to claim his lips), "Because no matter what has happened, you are Liz Parker... I know somewhere inside you is the girl I used to know... somewhere inside you is the girl I fell in love with, and I wasn't going to let that die."

Liz's eyes shot up into his own. He saw old Liz. Loud and clear, clearer than ever before, he saw old Liz Parker. Even her changed appearance and attire could not hide the absolute Roswell's Liz Parker look on her face.

Max closed his eyes and smiled. That had been worth it, just to see that look on her face if even for a split second.

Liz sat back against the wall, trying to take in everything she had heard. Max still loved her... granted, he loved the Liz Parker she'd learned to bury years ago, but he still loved her. And now, after the event that just happened, the old Liz Parker came billowing to the surface. Liz felt her old self in a clarity she had not before... she felt like the Roswell Liz Parker, and sitting there she knew... she still loved him, too.



Max sat in his room. It had been two days since the college shooting. The perpetrator had been caught and college registration was being rescheduled. Turned out the guy was seriously messed up and pissed off that he hadn't been accepted to UNM... that and he was really spiteful toward people smarter than him, which was everyone.

Max was sitting idly on his bed and looking at his sophomore year high school annual when his phone rang.

Max jumped at the sound, the book spilling to the floor. His phone had no wrung in years... literally. He even got to where he didn't remember he had a phone. He jumped in shock, then dove for the phone before it could repeat its foreign cry.

He lifted the receiver in his hand, then brought it slowly to his ear.

"Hello?" Max's voice was tentative and wary.

"Max?" Max's heart stopped... he knew that voice... he'd know it anywhere.

"Liz... what's wrong?"

Liz was silent a long time, then she spoke softly, hesitantly, "Can you come to the Crashdown... I have to talk to you."

Max hung up the phone, vaulting from bed. THAT was his conditioned response... Liz beckons... you hark the call. He didn't even stop to think about what he was doing... he just followed through. In minutes he was in the jeep and on his way to the cafe.



Max entered the cafe, his eyes immediately scanning for Liz. It took him a considerable time to remember that Liz didn't work there as a waitress anymore.

He was brought out of his time-lapse when Maria, in her own little waitress uniform, came up to him.

She caught his attention by standing directly in his line of distracted sight.

Max looked down at her, it being obvious she wanted to talk to him.

Maria said gently once she had his attention, "Liz is in the back room... she's expecting you."

Max nodded, then stepped past Maria and headed toward the employees only door.

Max pushed through the door and into the back room. It was completely pitch black, all the lights off. The only light was that coming through the window of the door that led to the front of the cafe.

Max stopped to adjust his eyes, but before he could move to find the light switch he heard a voice call out from the darkness. "I'm here, Max... stop right there."

Max froze. Liz... it was Liz... she was hiding somewhere in the shadows; why didn't she want him to come near her? Why didn't she want him to see her?

Liz spoke again, "I know now."

Max readjusted a moment to the idea of talking to a dark room, then asked a little uneasily, "Know what?"

"I know what you wouldn't tell me... I know why you didn't leave with the others."

Max flinched... that was a memory he rather preferred to forget. He swallowed, then half asked/half pleaded, "Liz... I..."

"I know."

Max stood there quietly, a long time, then asked softly, "How?"

Liz's voice was kinder as she replied from the dark recesses of the room, "Because I know you. I KNEW you, anyway... I knew the Max Evans that stayed behind, even if you have changed since then. I know the reason you didn't leave. It was me. You couldn't leave. You couldn't leave because you thought I would come back."

Max dropped his head. She was right... so very right. Max sighed heavily, then answered, "You're right... I couldn't leave knowing that you might come back someday. I was... I was wrong."

Liz asked curiously, "I don't understand."

Max called out into the darkness, "When you came back it wasn't the Liz Parker I knew... like we both said... we're not the people we used to be."

Liz's voice became softer... gentle, as she said slowly, "You're half right."

Max looked into the darkness, desperate to find the person he was talking to. "What do you mean?"

Liz answered, "You were right... the person I was when I came back was not the person you used to know... just as you are not the Max I used to love..." Max flinched at the implication 'used to love.' Liz's voice came out louder... more confident, "but you're wrong about the rest."

Max turned around, seeking the source in the darkness. "What do you mean?"

Liz emerged from behind Max... stepping out of the darkness. She stepped up to him, then said strongly, "I'm back."

Max spun at the sound of the voice behind him. His eyes fell instantly on Liz. He could only stare at her for a long time, feeling like he had been hurled backward in time.

Liz stood before him... but she was different. She had cut her hair, to the same length it used to be and brushed it until it shined. She parted her hair to the side, like she used to do, giving her face more structure. She wore make-up, the sparse natural color that gave her face a flawless look and gave it more color. Her clothes were like her old ones... she was wearing a small red tank top and blue jeans that nicely hugged her hips and figure.

Max tore his eyes away from the picture. He looked away, "Liz," he said weakly, trying not to break into a pit of agony, "changing your hair and clothes doesn't... doesn't mean that the woman I loved has come back to me." Max didn't want to get his hopes up, his heart couldn't take it should she turn out to be the same new Liz Parker on the inside.

Liz stepped closer, speaking gently, "Max... I know it's not safe... for you and me..." Max looked down at her, meeting her eyes and finding in them the spark. Liz's eyes were alive, the same mesmerizing doe eyes that he used to get lost in. Liz's face upturned in a small smile, and she whispered to him softly, "But I don't care."

Liz smiled, then remember something else. She stepped back slightly and reached for the bottom of her shirt. Smiling faintly, she lifted her shirt to expose her stomach. Max looked down and saw the silver hand print on her skin. He smiled faintly, then stopped when he noticed something else. Liz's navel was bare... she had removed the belly button ring.

Max smiled... nearly laughing. He knew that old line all to well as she repeated it, and it brought to his heart a warmth that had been missing for far too long. Also, the fact that the belly button ring was gone seemed almost symbolic. That ring had been the height of the change in Liz... it was the indicative piece to her change... now it was gone.

He stepped closer, "Liz..." he muttered, and he meant it. Liz... his Liz. She was here.

Liz's face dropped quickly... not in a stranger expression but in a serious one, "Max... I know and you know that things won't be easy. What we've become since we were apart... it is a part of us... inside us. We will both see things in each other that we don't recognize... things that we've come to be that the other doesn't know. It will be hard... we will have to get to know each other again... know ourselves again," she looked up imploringly at him, "but I want to try."

Max nodded, there was his old Liz... perfect logical science-head Liz. He smiled at the thought, then said slowly, "Liz... I love you. I always have. You know you have always been the one for me."

Liz smiled. She reached out and touched his hand lightly, then said, "Max... I'm scared. The things in me that have awakened since living in the city... I know they are as far from the old Liz Parker... from me, as they can get. I... I know there will be parts of me that you don't recognize... maybe even don't like. It could be hard to adjust to... you might not even think the effort worth it."

Max reached up out of reflex, touching her face gently with his hand, "Liz... you have been the only thing that kept me alive these last three years... there's nothing in you that could make me give up on this."

Liz smiled weakly, then muttered, "I hope so."

Max nodded, then smiled, "God... I've missed you."

Liz nodded, smiling, then said back, "I've missed you, too."

Max and Liz simultaneously leaned into each other, grasping each other in a hug. A hug long overdo and very much needed by both.



Pam Troy sat in the quad at UNM. It was her sophomore year in college and things were going great. She was sitting with her buds Vicki Delani and some of the old Roswell High cheerleaders (well, the ones who went to UNM, anyway).

Pam glanced up and looked around the quad.

Her eyes fell instantly on the couple near the large oak tree. She squinted a moment, not sure if she believed what she saw, then she said aloud, "You guys... look. Isn't that... isn't that Max Evans?"

Everyone turned their heads to look. Max was sitting at the base of the tree. He was reading from one of his text books, but he had to hold the book upright in one hand as his other was thrown over the shoulders of a girl. She was curled next to him, reading from the same book as she rested her head and one hand on his strong chest.

Vicki Delani piped in, "Yeah... It is... and that's Liz Parker."

Pam looked closer, "I thought Liz went to New York... it was all the talk five years ago."

Vicki nodded, "I guess she came back. She looks exactly the same, doesn't she?"

Pam nodded, then said, "Max doesn't, though. I haven't seen him in two years... Man he looks good. You remember when he was all pale and skinny through the last of high school?"

Everyone nodded, then looked again at the transformed Max Evans. Pam commented, "He looks as healthy as ever. He put that weight back on and his muscles have filled out again... hmm... he's a hunk again."

Everyone at the table rolled their eyes at Pam's now revived crush on Max Evans.

Pam mused, "I wonder if he was sick or something... I mean... he looked really awful there for a long time."

Vicki nodded, stating idly, "Yeah... he started to look like crap right after Liz left... didn't he?" Nods around the table but no lights coming on. Vicki mused, "Looks like he got better just in time for Liz to come ba..." Vicki trailed off. Everyone looked at her. Vicki sat there with a shocked look on her face, and slowly she explained her amazement, "Hey... get this... Liz leaves and he... he falls apart... she comes back and he comes to life."

Pam scowled once the realization hit her. She looked back at Max and Liz, curled up together under the tree. One of the other girls piped in, "I guess you can forget moving in on Max, Pam."



Max had to read the same sentence twice. It was hard to concentrate with Liz lying against him... not that he was about to complain. He could study at home, anyway.

Liz sighed, lost in the feeling of Max's chest beneath her cheek and his arm around her shoulders. She'd given up even trying to read a long time ago... she was just here to be with Max.

Liz thought about the ways things had been the last two years. Her and Max had started hanging out together, a little unsure how things would progress after having been apart and living such different lives. As it turned out... they fell right back into place.

It was as if while they were separated the better part of themselves had gone into hibernation, tenaciously waiting until the two individuals had the sense to come back together.

They were together for a short time when these sleeping parts of them woke up. It was as if everything they'd fought to become while apart was a joke. Their beings deep inside stirred in each other's presence, and it was almost as if nothing had changed.

Some things had carried over from their time apart. Liz was still working on not being wary of everyone... trying not to be constantly aware of everything around her (since it took away from the attention and concentration she could pile on Max), and Max was even more withdrawn than before, but together they were getting through it.

Max had found new energy... he even found the spirit to play basketball sometimes with some neighborhood guys. His old physique quickly returned, as if it had been waiting impatiently for him to invoke it and jumping on the opportunity once he did. Liz had gained back some of the weight she'd lost... she looked healthy again... not skinny. Her eyes were shining, as was her hair, and her spirit and spunk were back.

Both children's parents were amazed at the transformation. They couldn't believe that the kids could improve so much through just being together. Needless to say, no one tried to keep Max and Liz apart... they were too good for each other.

Liz looked up from the book, seeking Max's eyes. They turned all too readily to meet hers.

Liz smiled, then said, "I have something for you."

Max smiled, then watched her as she sat up and dug into her pocket. She came out with something cupped in her hand. She leaned into Max and held her hand out for him. She opened her fingers to show him the item inside.

Max was still a long time as he looked down at the old navel ring that Liz was holding in her hand. He hated that... he never said so, but he hated it. It reminded him of the stranger Liz that had taken over his beautiful Roswell Liz Parker.

Max, trying to hide a frown, put down his book and carefully picked up the ring. He stared at it a long time. What would make Liz think he wanted this? He'd NEVER asked her where her navel ring was, never cared that she stopped wearing it... never showed any interest in all in it. In fact, he'd kind denied that it even existed.

Max frowned finally, then asked, "What kind of present is this exactly?"

Liz smiled, leaning closer to him, "That's not the present."

Max cocked his head curiously. Liz smiled, took the ring from his hand, then said, "This is," and with a quick motion she tossed the ring away... into the open quad area. It hurled through the air, glinting silver in the sun, then got lost in the sea of overgrown grass.

Max smiled... a smile that warmed him heart and soul.

He looked back at Liz, who was smiling lovingly at him. Max blinked heavily, then said, "Thank you... that was the best present I ever had."

Liz smiled again, nearly laughing, then said, "That wasn't the present either."

Max frowned in confusion again, "But I thought you said..."

Liz leaned in closer, touching his chest with her hand and nestling up against him. She gazed up at him, then whispered gently, "The ring wasn't your present... I am."

Max laughed gently, wrapping his arms around Liz and pulling her into him. He held her close, hoping his sheer joy and emotion didn't show in his face the way he felt it, then said, "Now THAT IS the best present ever. And you know what? I have a present for you."

Liz looked up playfully, "Oh really?"

Max nodded, then dropped his head down to hers, resting his forehead on hers as he whispered, "I'm yours."

Liz smiled, then grinned playfully, "Tell me something I didn't know."

Max smiled, then pulled Liz's chin up so he could kiss her softly. Liz returned the affection, then sighed and curled closer to him. She closed her eyes, then whispered, "I've always loved you."

Max nodded, and continued the sentence, "And I will always love you."



END