Title: Gravity Always Wins
Author: Deidre
Email: Deidremk@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended, either with respect to Melinda Metz’ work and characters, or to the wb or Jason Katims. Many thanks to all of you for creating such a fabulous world. Also, no infringement is intended in respect to Radiohead’s song title, either—just a respectful bow of thanks.
Summary: The story takes place the night of The End of the World and afterward, and imagines what might have happened differently.
Category: Max/Liz, Marco/Tess

Author’s Note: Anytime I reference "First timeline", I mean the timeline that Future Max and Future Marco traveled back from. But nearly the entire story will be set in what I refer to as "New Time Line"—which means the timeline that occurs from the point Max and Liz change events after The End of the World.

PROLOGUE
2010—FIRST TIMELINE

Marco sped along the desert highway on his motorcycle, the night air chilling his skin, even through his leather jacket. He was going almost 80 mph, but he opened the engine up a little bit more. Who would mourn him if anything happened on this road tonight?

No one. The two people he cared about most despised him now, and that would never change.

And his heart was utterly black within him. How else could it all have happened? He’d hurt them both tonight, irreversibly.

Unforgivably… and maybe he did deserve to die, as payment for his crimes. Maybe death would at least end the torment that had hounded him this past year, as he’d shamefully loved his best friend’s wife.

But Max Evans wasn’t just his friend. Oh, he was far more than that. He was the man he’d sworn to serve first and foremost, before his own life and others. And when Marco had pledged it before the council, he’d been branded for life as protector to the King. It had been an unspeakable honor, being personally entrusted with the life of his king and queen, but he’d dashed all those promises to a million pieces tonight.

It wasn’t even just Max and Liz he’d betrayed, but Serena, too… and yet others still--so many people who had believed in him with an undeniable faith.

He pushed the motorcycle engine out a little further toward the edge, willing death to come upon him.

But even as he imagined it, something within him cried out to both of them… to Liz. He’d never forget the look on her face when he’d kissed her tonight, never forget the quick flashes he’d felt, in that briefest stolen intimacy--even with her resisting him completely.

She had been frightened of him in that moment—and he’d always been such a source of strength for her, after all, he was her protector. Their protector.

She had been heartbroken by his actions… violated. Fearful for Max. He’d sensed so many emotions, none of them involving passion or need.

He’d kissed her, and then she’d shoved him roughly away, knocking him against the little bookshelf that jutted out on their bedroom wall. He’d slammed his head against the edge of the shelf, and her grandmother’s vase had crashed to the floor—the one she treasured enough to take along with them every time they moved to a new location. And he’d seen even more bitter pain flash in her features.

And then he’d become aware of searing pain, as it had shot all through his forehead and eyebrow, and he’d felt blood trickle into his eye—right as Max had rushed in, wondering what had just happened.

Marco had stormed past him, leaving Liz to tell the horrible details—and that had been a strategic mistake. He should have realized that Max would never listen to him after Liz told him everything. Max was far too protective of her—possessive even—to not come after him exactly as he had done once he’d learned the truth.

Marco had paced frantically, as he’d waited for what seemed like an eternity for Max to come to him. In those moments, he’d tried to make sense of his insane actions just moments before. And the only thing that kept surfacing in his mind was that the connection between Max and Liz had slowly been driving him insane. God, he felt it all the time now, like some terrible itch that he could never quite scratch. It was constantly spilling over to him, no matter how hard he tried to block it.

And mostly he felt such passion for Liz—so much of Max’s deep love and adoration—always just beyond his reach, haunting him like some beautiful specter. The worst part was that he couldn’t think of a single way to talk to either of them about it. It was just too damn weird. He knew that the three of them shared the gift of intuition, and that was the only explanation he could arrive at for the way he was so receptive to feeling their bond. Not that it got too invasive, really—it wasn’t like he could read their thoughts, or sense intimate things passing between them.

And yet he was left without a single bit of recourse. Liz had completely mesmerized him from the moment he’d first met her anyway--and he’d already been predisposed to fondness for her, since he was her sworn servant.

But it was their connection that had been like sparks to dry brush…dangerously combustive, and he’d found himself powerless to resist, though he’d certainly tried with every fiber in his being.

So Marco had paced, and decided he would confess the bizarreness of how he’d been intercepting a bit of their connection for months—years even. It was the only way the three of them would survive his terrible indiscretion and still remain intact.

Marco had never expected what came next, had never believed Max would literally turn his back on him, without so much as hearing him out. But Max had ordered him to leave that night, and he had no doubt that once Max Evans—the most loyal man he knew—turned on him, it was irrevocably finished.

Some part of Marco had died in that instant. His king, turning away from him forever, leaving him kneeling there. Marco had never knelt before Max, never asked for mercy… why hadn’t he realized that?

No, Max had left him begging, without so much as one look of remorse.

And he would never serve him as king again.

~~~~~~~~

Marco sat in the darkest corner of some roadside dive on Highway 285. He was literally in the middle of nowhere, which seemed like the perfect geographical location for him at that precise moment.

He didn’t even know what the name of the bar was, just that there were pool tables and a lot of cigarette smoke. And beer. He didn’t give a damn how it affected him; he was going to drink tonight.

The waitress returned to his table, sliding a bottle of Heineken across to him. He nodded mutely, staring down at his hands. His forehead hurt like hell, but that hardly mattered. He took a heavy swig, and felt the world around him grow instantly hazy. The bar was so shrouded in smoke and darkness that the change in his body chemistry only registered slightly.

Marco leaned his head back heavily against the wooden booth, and as he raised his eyes, he saw someone who looked vaguely familiar. Why couldn’t he quite place her? She was standing just in front of him, smiling faintly. He felt like she was reaching to him through the thickest fog.

"Hi, Marco," she said throatily. "We meet at last."

He lolled his head forward again, narrowing his eyes—determined to clear his head a bit. "Do I know you?" He asked.

"Well, let’s just say you know of me," she replied, sliding uninvited into the booth beside him. "You’ve certainly seen me before, though not up close like this."

He studied her features for a long moment. Blonde hair, blue eyes… lots of hair, he amended… long and shimmering. Small frame…

"Tess," he answered finally, taking another swig of beer. "Tess Harding."

She smiled in satisfaction. "You have been watching, haven’t you?"

"It was my job," he answered dully, refusing to rise to her bait.

What was she after? Why was she suddenly here, tonight of all nights? It made no sense at all, but all his thoughts were murky now, clouded and dim.

"Right," she answered slowly. "Yeah, I hear Max really respects your hard work on his behalf." Her voice was tinged with bitter irony.

He raised his eyes to meet her own, and she was staring at him meaningfully—flame darting in her eyes.

Or maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him. Suddenly the beer seemed like a really bad idea. He leaned his elbows forward on the table, burying his face in his hands for a moment. Anything to stop the spinning.

"Why are you here?" he groaned quietly. "What do you want, Tess?"

"Well, that’s simple enough," she answered, peeling at the label on his beer bottle. "I want you."

Marco slowly lifted his head, and met her eyes—and swore he heard her call his name somewhere within his mind.

Max’s enemies had planned their attack extremely well.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tess slipped her arms around Marco’s waist, holding tightly as he drove the motorcycle away from the bar. He’d sobered immediately when she’d kissed him, long and slow, drawing him back to clarity. She wanted him totally lucid for what she had planned—it would be more effective that way, rather than something he could only vaguely remember tomorrow.

The bike sped up a bit, so she grasped him more tightly from behind—and was momentarily surprised to realize how muscular his stomach was beneath her hands. And his body was so warm—not like the skins she was used to being with. Marco’s body was like a generator, emitting incredible warmth.

Tess leaned her cheek against his back, smelling his leather jacket, and for the briefest moment felt like she might cry. She could imagine that Marco was just the kind of man whose arms might offer incredible comfort… deep security. If only she were allowed to seek such things in this life.

But she was a warrior, and those needs had died for her long ago.

The only thing she’d get tonight was a cheap motel room somewhere on this lonely stretch of highway… and in the process, return to Khivar’s camp victorious. But there would be no love, not ever for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marco lay back on the bed, naked, and Tess peeled off her underwear, climbing in after him. Her eyes took in the length of his body, as she slowly knelt over him, and she couldn’t help but acknowledge that his body was simply stunning. His dark skin was so rich beneath her fingers, as she traced her hands across the silky black hairs that dusted his inner thighs.

His muscles were incredibly taught, and she trailed a little pattern with her fingers along the soft hair there. Then her hand wandered over further, to the thicker patch of black hair between his legs, and she took him within the palm of her hand. He let out a soft cry and she glanced up at his face.

His eyes were shut tightly, an expression of painful ecstasy dancing across his features. She began trailing kisses down his firm stomach, lower…then lower still, taking him within her mouth. He cried out much more loudly as she drew him in deeper, then eased him out again. He gasped her name, cupping her shoulders firmly within his hands.

Tess liked the feeling that she was pulling him toward the brink. And for the briefest moment, she simply liked being with Marco period, but she quickly buried that thought. She couldn’t afford to feel anything for this man…yet the emotions coming from him were so strong, so intense. It was hard to resist, especially since his gift of intuition left him wide open to her. If she chose to, she could feel everything happening within him. Maybe just for a moment, she thought.

As she opened herself ever so slightly to him emotionally, she had a strong flash—and it was something she found nearly impossible to believe.

This was his first time with a woman.

She pulled away briefly, staring up at him. His eyes opened lazily…she could read the pleasure on his face. Yes, this was working, all right.

"You’re a virgin," she laughed quietly. His dark eyes flashed--with what she wasn’t sure. He almost seemed to panic for a moment, then just as quickly, the emotion passed, replaced with something much harder…colder.

"Who would I have ever made love to, Tess?" he asked wryly, letting his hands drop away from her shoulders. His face became guarded, and she couldn’t read his expression.

She climbed on top of him, straddling him as she drew her face within a mere breath of his own. "A beautiful man like you could have his pick."

He groaned as she squeezed him tightly between her hands again. "Ohh…" was all he could whisper as he pulled her down toward him, taking her mouth fiercely with his own

She’d seen the look of pleasure flare in his eyes when she’d called him beautiful. Good. Then that same tiny voice whispered in her mind again…. He is beautiful…incredibly beautiful. He’d taken her breath away when she’d first seen him tonight. His black hair had been wind blown from the motorcycle and his smoldering good looks had been perfectly offset by his black leather jacket and faded blue jeans. She’d been watching him from afar for months, but tonight had been her first good look at him. For a fleeting moment, she’d been entirely disconcerted by his dark Mediterranean features…the rich, black eyes.

He deepened his rough kiss, his tongue heatedly exploring her mouth. She could feel her heart begin racing wildly within her. This would not do, she reminded herself. You are here for one purpose only.

And with that, she silenced the quiet voice of desire within her once and for all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She’d laughed at him, at his inexperience, Marco thought. That had been the final humiliation of this day. He had felt so damn powerless against her, as her hands had traced those patterns on his legs, as she’d held him and caressed him within her tiny hands, then as she had taken him within her mouth. And now, as their kisses grew rougher…fuller, as she continued rubbing him so perfectly, taking him beyond any place he’d ever been before…he was simply losing control. He knew he was going over the edge and there would be no coming back.

This woman didn’t just have him in the palm of her hand, she had all of him…. His soul even.

Because no one had ever done anything like this to him before—no one had just taken his body and pleasured it. He’d been a servant, a warrior for so long, he’d always thought of himself as the property of others. Yet tonight she was worshipping his body …and it felt so damn good.

The gash on his forehead throbbed painfully, and as he became aware of it, her finger traced it lightly. Had she felt his pain? Their kisses stilled, and he stared up into those blue eyes as she touched his wound. Everything about her was the opposite of him. She was all lightness…golden hair, blue eyes, where everything about him was so dark. Even in the half-light of his room, he could see how olive his skin looked next to her fair complexion. She traced the throbbing place on his forehead with the tip of her finger.

"Let me fix this," she breathed. She lifted her hand to help him, and he captured her wrist roughly.

"No," he growled.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why not?" He released her hand slowly, and she resumed tracing her fingers lightly across the gash. He flinched slightly in pain.

"I want the scar," he breathed. "I want to remember tonight… from now on."

"They really got to you, Marco, didn’t they?" she asked seriously, though he felt that somehow she was mocking him. She began trailing hot kisses across his jaw line.

He groaned softly. "Yes, but now you’re getting to me in whole new ways…"

"You’ve been lonely," she whispered in his ear, kissing him there, too. Her tongue teased him lightly along his earlobe, then she tugged on it between her teeth. How could he stand up against this? He didn’t care what she really wanted with him. This was all he needed tonight.

Maybe he could forget Liz, for just these few moments. Liz, his mind taunted him. If only this were Liz…. But she could never be his, would never be in his arms like this. He quickly shoved her from his thoughts.

"Yes…" he moaned quietly into her hair, taking her full breasts in both of his hands. How could someone so tiny have such an amazing body? He loved how soft her breasts felt within his hands, and he let his thumbs trace little circles around her nipples. They sprang to life at his touch.

"You need this. Me," she whispered against his cheek.

"Yes," he said softly, raking his hands through her luxurious blonde hair. There was so much of it, and it was all over his face.

"What will you do to have me?" she teased, straddling his naked body with her own. God, she was so close to him, he could just slide inside her so easily…he let his hand find the warm place between her legs. Earlier he’d caught a brief glimpse of a soft tuft of dark blonde hair there. She was incredibly wet for him.

"What…ever I need to do," he gasped and began to push himself toward her, but she darted away.

"No, no, Marco. Tell me," she said, drawing her face within a breath of his own. She was hovering over him now, straddling him. He might lose control before he could ever come inside of her.

"I’ll make love to you," he answered throatily.

She laughed gently as she stroked her hands through his hair. "That’s not what I want,"

He didn’t understand what was happening at all. Not what she wanted? She was so wet for him, so seemingly full of desire. But in his heart, he did know what she was really after…had known since she’d first appeared in the bar tonight.

"Then what?" he asked, sucking his breath in quickly. He felt like he was begging her now. He let his hands wander roughly across her backside, cupping her bottom, pulling her closer to him.

"I want you to make love to me, yes. But that’s not all." She hesitated, sitting up on top of him, as she gazed down at him seriously. "I want you to come to our camp…I want you on our side. Max will never take you back—you do know that?"

He felt something turn over in his chest, and for a moment thought he might be sick. She had put voice to the words that he hadn’t allowed to fully form in his mind.

"Khivar is the true king," she continued, softly stroking his hair back away from his forehead. "Max is only the leader of a tiny little rebellion…it’s not his destiny to rule anymore. You belong with a real king, Marco."

Suddenly, she captured his wrist within her own—so quickly he couldn’t stop her-- and allowed a tiny beam of light to fall upon his wrist, illuminating his royal brand. Immediately, his seal appeared in the air and he gasped softly, trying to pull his hand away from her. But he was so lost to her…no going back at all.

"This is who you are, Marco…Max never respected it. Khivar will. He needs you," she whispered and began trailing hot kisses across his forehead, along his painful cut. Her kisses ended on his eyebrow. "I need you."

He closed his eyes as he felt her stinging kisses along his forehead. They seemed to electrify his pain, intensify it. He tried to pull away from her, and she raised her head slightly, meeting his gaze. Those blue depths were so empty, but somehow shot full of passion.

"Why would you want this scar?" she asked softly.

He was silent a long moment, and just gazed up at her. He cupped her face roughly in his hand, studying her thoughtfully. Finally he answered, and he knew his voice was far too quiet. "Because its who I am now, Tess."

In the near darkness, he saw her smile faintly.

"Good," she breathed, tracing her finger along his eyebrow. "So you know then,"

He could only nod. He wanted inside of her…now. No more toying with it. And with that he pressed himself against her, and thrust into her roughly, feeling her warm wetness all around him. He gasped as she began moving up and down against him, tantalizing him feverishly. She threw her head back and he studied her a moment. She was stunning…golden, light. Her hair cascaded down her back and he let his hands trail upward until his fingers threaded roughly through it. She was everything Liz wasn’t…dangerous, fair and free to be his.

Mine, he thought. She can be mine…

But even as he thought the words, and watched her toss her head back in pleasure as she moved roughly against him…such thoroughly new sensations shooting through his body…another voice spoke quietly in his mind.

And the worst part was, he simply didn’t care.