PART TWO

She’d turned, instantly fleeing into his yard without so much as a word, and Max hadn’t even thought about Michael. Horrified, he’d leapt quickly through the window, catching himself with his palms as he stumbled onto the dewy evening grass. But she was already way ahead of him, and he sprinted to catch up.

"Liz," he cried out to her, dimly aware that his blue jeans were still open. He wrestled ineffectively with the zipper, as he chased after her. His shirttail was still hanging out of his pants, and he looked like he’d been about to make love—just as he had been.

"Liz, wait!" He sounded as desperate as he felt. He couldn’t lose her—without her he would be nothing.

But you can’t lose him now either, a quiet voice taunted. You’ve tasted what he’s like, known the memories.

And he felt tears spring to his eyes. He was so confused…none of his emotions made sense.

<"Liz," he yelled again. He didn’t care if the neighbors heard. She stopped finally, just turned away from him, still as a statue. He reached her, panting crazily…his breathing still so out of control.

She turned slowly. "I’m glad he takes your breath away," she hissed. He felt his face flush deeply. "At least he’s not Tess…that would hurt worse. Knowing you were with your wife."

He cringed at her words. If only she knew.

"Liz, I’m so sorry," he began softly, reaching his hand to her arm. "Sorry you saw that, that I’ve hurt you yet again."

"I guess loving you means I’m just always going to get hurt," she replied dully and he saw tears well within her eyes.

He shook his head vigorously. "No, Liz, I don’t want that for you."

"No, you don’t want me at all," she whispered. "You want Michael."

He stared at her, speechless. There was nothing he could even say, even though he did want her desperately—never more than at just that moment. But she was dead right about one thing--he definitely wanted Michael.

"I’m right," she stated, her voice revealing how utterly destroyed she was.

He shook his head urgently, clasping her arm softly. "No, Liz, you’re not," he answered, his voice surprisingly calm. "Not by a long shot."

Max stroked her arm softly beneath his fingers, willing her to feel all his passion for her, his love. He saw her gazing down—at his open pants, and he moved quickly to zip them up, but she shoved his hand away.

Then she did the strangest thing. She thrust her hand greedily inside, aggressively…shoving his boxers down. He was painfully erect, and her hand slipped easily around him. She was furiously angry, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"He can’t have you Max," she whispered. "He can’t…"

Max closed his eyes with a sharp intake of breath, as he felt her tiny hand slip around him, cupping him firmly…rubbing.

"I won’t let him have you first."

He couldn’t even speak, her frantic little pace was pushing him over the edge—Michael had already taken him so close. All he could do was moan low in his throat, vaguely aware that the neighbors were next door. But it was dark and late…no one would see.
She stepped closer now, grasping him more fully within her hand, and he tried to kiss her, lowered his head toward her. But quickly, she turned her face away from him.

"I loved you," she hissed, still pleasuring him so fully. It didn’t matter that she was claiming him, possessing him so that she’d have what Michael never would—this first time.

"Liz," he moaned, absolutely aching at her touch. "You still do…tell me you still can."

Suddenly, she turned to him and he crushed his lips against hers. And he saw a flash—of he and Michael entwined as they’d been before—and he couldn’t help the shiver of satisfaction that shot through him, of awe. They looked so beautiful together. Liz had thought so too, even in her horror.

"Yes, you were beautiful," she breathed, breaking the kiss. "Does that really surprise you?"

He shook his head slowly, desperately seeking her lips again, his tongue flicking crazily against her mouth, yet she wouldn’t open. He needed so much more of her, wanted her closer to him—not just this cold physical connection. As he pressed her lips apart with his tongue, he sensed someone else.

Michael was waiting for him. He knew it…felt the pull of him.

"I won’t let you go to him until I’m finished," Liz breathed, her hands tightening around him more firmly, back and forth they thrilled him. He was throbbing now, so ready, right there in his yard.

"Sweetheart," he murmured. "I love you so much…so much…so… ohhh,"

With that, she took him over the edge and beyond, and he spilled right in her hands, on his pants. His eyes were pressed shut, and all he could do was try to breathe. Try to think straight, which felt nearly impossible.

Then he felt nothing but the cool evening air sting his bare skin. Felt her walk away, turning her back on him. She was done, finished…had made her point.

And now she would leave him forever.

"Liz," he whispered, tears springing to his eyes.

"Now you can go to him," she answered bitterly, without turning around.

"But I don’t want to do that without you," he answered softly.

And she stopped in her tracks, then turned back to him.

"You did earlier,"

He nodded. "It’s a long story Liz…long story."

"I’ll bet," she answered, her voice still so angry and hurt.

"You came to me Liz…from the future," he began explaining desperately. "Fourteen years in the future."

She stared at him, her eyes widening. "What do you mean?" She asked, turning back toward him.

"You came to me and told me that I had to make you fall out of love with me. That we’d married…but that our relationship had driven Michael away." His words rushed out, tumbling over one another. She had to understand.

"He’d left Roswell because he had feelings for me, and then our unit was weakened…and we were unable to defeat our enemies."

"I don’t understand," she answered softly, the anger fading a bit from her beautiful black eyes.

"You told me…this future you…that Michael is my destiny. Not Tess." He said, and cringed, knowing he couldn’t hide the awakening wonder he felt about it all, knew it was in his voice, even as he shared it.

Her eyes tentatively met his, and he couldn’t believe how flushed her cheeks had become.
"Max, how could Michael be your destiny?" Her voice was so soft now, still hurt, but not angry anymore.

"Because we were mated in that other lifetime."

"How…you were with Tess."

"No," he breathed softly. "There was a mistake. They were switched, Liz…it’s what your future self told me."

"Oh," Liz said, her voice incredibly quiet. "That’s just…really weird, Max."

"God, Liz, I know it’s crazy. I’m so sorry…I never wanted to hurt you like this. But you told me I had to push you away, had to make you fall out of love with me."

"But it didn’t work," she whispered, stepping closer to him again.

He shook his head. "No, it could never work," and he cupped her face within his palm. "And I could never fall out of love with you, anymore than you can with me."

"Except there was a complication wasn’t there?" she asked quietly. "In those moments earlier, you may not have made me fall out of love with you…but you fell in love with Michael, didn’t you? That quickly."

His face burned, and he felt his hands trembling. He dropped his eyes to the ground.

"I don’t know what to say, Liz," he answered quietly. "Yes."

"Oh, God," she sobbed, and he pulled her into his arms.

"It’s okay, Liz…because nothing has changed about how I love you." He stroked her long, silky hair, pressing his face against the top of her head.

"That’s impossible."

"No, not really…don’t you see how different both of you are? I think you each complete different sides of me. Michael is my alien side, my alien past…you’re everything about me that is human. My future."

"You’re saying you want us both?" she gasped softly.

"Yes."

"Oh, Max…I can’t share you with him. Not with anyone."

"Please, Liz, I want what I felt earlier," he begged quietly. "Please don’t take that from me, because I’ll choose you, you know it. I’ll always choose you."

"It meant that much to you?" she whispered, stroking his cheek with her fingers.

"Couldn’t you see?" he pleaded.

Liz had to understand that if she asked him to walk away from Michael now, he’d never be the same. He would be changed forever, yet left without recourse--just as leaving her would render him a mere shadow of his former self.

He needed them both more than his next breath.

She was quiet a long moment, and he couldn’t read the emotion in her eyes. Fear began pressing in on him, and his heart began to beat crazily. He pressed soft kisses against her forehead, and this time she didn’t fight him. Slowly, she folded her arms around his waist, and he heard her sob softly.

"I can’t tell you what seeing that did to me, Max." Her voice was husky and broken. "There’s no way you can know."

His heart was breaking slowly now, tearing apart within him.

"I’m so sorry, Liz," he whispered. "But all I know is that I don’t care what your future self said, I can’t live without you."

He pulled back, cupping her face within both his hands. "Because you’re my destiny, too, Liz. I’ve always known it."

She drew her breath in sharply, and he wiped her tears away with his fingers.

"How can you say that now, Max?" She breathed. "After what I saw…with what you know?"

"Michael may be my alien destiny, Liz…but you’re my human one," he answered softly, resting his forehead against hers.

"You’re asking me to share you…and I just don’t know if I can do that."

"Not our first time." He shook his head firmly. "I want you to be my first, just us… only us."

"But after that?" She asked, and he saw fear dance in her beautiful dark eyes.

He was silent a long moment, and pictured Michael lying in his room, on the bed, waiting for him. How would Michael react to all of this?

If it meant having him, he knew Michael would be thrilled. He even knew that Michael could love Liz, because of what she meant to him, the way she completed him.

"The three of us," he breathed, kissing her softly.

She gasped softly, her hand flying to her throat, and he willed his heart to still, commanded the fear to subside within him.

"Could you be okay with that? Or am I asking too much?"

She was silent for a long time, as he held her in the darkness. He reached out to her, tried to gauge her emotions, but couldn’t be sure what she was feeling. Maybe this was too much for her.

"No, Max," she answered, and her voice was so quiet.

Grief shot through him. Michael…oh, Michael.

He could only sigh hopelessly, knowing how this was all going to end. But Liz sensed his reaction, because she pulled back and took his face within both her small hands.

"I don’t think you understand Max. I’m saying ‘no, you’re not asking too much’."

"No?" He asked, his voice breaking a bit.

"I love you enough to give this to you, Max," She answered, staring at him a long moment, her eyes so full of wondrous adoration.

He’d done nothing to deserve that gaze.

"I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you," she continued, stroking his hair softly away from his forehead. "You risked your very life for me that day. How could I not give you this, when I see what it means to you?"

"How, Liz?" He was barely able to breathe, his chest had constricted unbearably. "How? Even with the way I hurt you tonight."

She was quiet a long moment, and just stroked his cheek beneath her hand. "I’m not sure, Max. I think because you want me to be part of it, to share it with you. That you want all parts of yourself entwined with me."

He crushed her against his chest, and felt hot tears burn in his eyes. She was accepting him—even this—without reservation. It’s all she’d ever given him, such pure undeserved acceptance.

"And because I saw you with him," she finished quietly. "I understand that something powerful is happening between the two of you…but that you want me part of that means so much."

Max pressed soft kisses against the top of her head, just stroking her hair. He felt her heart against him, and it was starting to beat very quickly. She was scared a bit, he knew it…but his Liz was always so brave, so curious. He sensed that some part of her was aroused by the idea of what lay ahead.

His own body was already stirring, responding to the knowledge that he would have them both, they would be his completely.

"Come with me," he breathed against the top of her hair. "Let’s go inside."

His heart began hammering crazily in anticipation. This would be the most beautiful night of his life, and would become even more beautiful once their circle found its completion later.

He sighed contentedly, threading his fingers through Liz’s, and guided her slowly toward his room. She gazed up at him, and he couldn’t believe the expression on her face. He’d never done anything to deserve such open acceptance and love. He reached to stroke her hair away from her eyes.

"Max, I love you," She pressed softly. "And while this may be really uncomfortable at first, I understand, okay?"

He squeezed her hand within his own. "Thank you, Liz." It was all he could say, all he could think. "Thank you so much."

She nodded, slipping her arm around his waist, her tiny hand stroking his side as they walked toward his room…toward Michael.

Max could only sigh again in deep pleasure.



Michael was lying on the bed, his arm thrown over his eyes. He was incredibly upset, Max could see it in his entire body posture…and could almost sense it.

Yet he was still here.

He turned briefly to Liz. "I need to talk to him a few minutes, okay?" He asked softly.
She nodded silently, and he climbed in the window, immediately turning to help her in. Michael lowered his arm, meet Max’s gaze and the expression in his eyes, nearly killed him.

Michael was terrified, convinced he’d lost him already—before he’d ever really had him. He sat up slowly, swinging his feet onto the floor.

"Hey," he said quietly, averting his eyes from Max’s gaze. "I was just waiting for you to drive me home."

Of course, or he’d have bolted the minute Max had run after Liz.

Max smiled at him softly, settling beside him on the bed. Liz stepped toward the door, without looking at them, giving them this moment.

"I’m going to go watch a little television for a while," she said quietly.

"Okay," Max answered, his eyes now trained on Michael’s face. "We’ll be there in a few minutes."

The door closed softly, and Michael kept staring at the floor, chewing his lip now.

"Look, Max…" he began, his voice thick.

Max slipped his arm around his waist, resting his hand loosely there. "Michael, we need to talk."

"No." Michael shook his head. "I don’t think so."

Max began softly stroking the small of his back. "Okay, I need to talk," he countered.

Michael briefly met his eyes, and Max was struck by how soulful they were, such a soft brown. And right now, they were filled with incredible sadness. Loss.

Max let his leg fall against his, so that their thighs touched now. That tiny gesture generated ripples of electricity throughout his body.

Max wasn’t sure where to start, so he just plunged in. "Liz and I are going to make love…tonight after I take you home."

Michael drew his breath in sharply. "Look, Maxwell, I don’t want to know this shit, okay? You don’t owe me some explanation."

"Liz and I are going to make love tonight," he resumed. "And then afterward, late tonight, we’re coming to your apartment to make love to you."

Michael’s mouth fell open, and his chest heaved with heavy breaths. "What?" he finally asked.

"You heard what I said," Max whispered, and leaned in, kissing him softly. He cupped his face within his hands, and incredible desire began afresh. All the heat from earlier, began shooting through his body again in one swift instant.

Max broke the kiss, because otherwise he knew he’d get too carried away. Very quickly.

Michael gazed down, and began tracing a finger along the wet place on Max’s jeans, where he’d spilled himself earlier. He rubbed the stain slowly, and Max felt himself grow painfully erect.

"Apparently you and Liz communicated about this very well."

"Liz is…very verbal," Max smiled softly, staring at Michael’s finger where it stroked lightly across the front of his pants--feeling that simple touch burn him throughout his whole body.

"Max, I can’t pretend to understand what’s happening here," Michael whispered quietly. Now his hand wandered, stroking Max’s thigh…still moving.

And heat rolled all through Max in response…so much heat, such energy.

"I think I’m going to be able to explain some things later that will help a lot," Max answered throatily.

Max noticed that he now had a huge bulge in his pants, and knew that Michael had to see it. But there was no doubt left about that fact, once Michael’s wandering fingers began to stroke him delicately, tantalizingly… right where he strained within his jeans. He sucked his breath in sharply at his touch, and Michael glanced at him, smiling softly.

"How am I supposed to wait?" Michael nearly whispered.

Max laughed. "In great anticipation."

He moved Michael’s hand away, and stood. "I’ve got to get you home, though."

Max adjusted his pants, tried to settle himself better so that his erection wouldn’t be so obvious to Liz.

"How does Liz feel about all this?" Michael asked, gazing up at him.

"About like we both do…confused as hell, but ready to go for it."

Michael’s eyes met his own then, and Max saw so many emotions shifting within them. Love, desire, fear…anticipation.

"I’ll be waiting for you," he finally answered. "For both of you."

Max extended his hand, and Michael grasped it firmly, standing. Then their fingers threaded together, possessively, and they walked toward the living room.

Oh, could his contentment grow more than this? A smile played at his lips, when Max realized that his contentment would no doubt soar ever higher as the night progressed—that this moment was literally only the very beginning.