Title: Swear It All Over Again
Author: Ashton
E-mail: maxpert88@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Roswell, etc.
Rating: PG, PG-13 at the most, I think
Category: Max/Liz, but everyone else involved
Summary: Isabel Evans invites college friends, Liz and Maria along with Isabel's boyfriend, Alex, to visit the family ancestral home in Scotland. Max has been there for about 3 months already and strange things are happening. These strange things actually open the door to the past as well as point Max in the direction of his future. It will be up to the gang to figure out what everything means…
Author's notes: Ok, this story came to me and I just threw this beginning together. I'm not even sure if it's something you'd want to read. I'm a huge Scottish history buff and so this is set in Scotland, present day. The castle and area mentioned are real, but the events are made up. IF I continue this, I'm not sure at this point if there will be aliens at all. It just might end up being a haunting love story kind of thing. This is just something that came to me and if I continue it'll probably be back burner unless you guys really want me to continue right away. Also, Tess is in here briefly as Max's girlfriend, but she's not really a big part. The only reason I used her is because she's easy for everyone to grasp since we've all seen her on the show. She's neither good or bad in this…she's just kinda there.

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~ chapter 1 ~

Excited giggles filled the lobby of the airport. "There she is! Yooo-hoo! Isabel!! We're over here!"

Maria DeLuca's voice rang through the airport like a tinkling bell and a bright smile accompanied the wave of her hand when she spotted Isabel Evans. Isabel returned the smile and rushed to greet her friends. "I'm so glad you guys could make it!" Isabel grabbed Liz Parker and Maria and pulled them into a warm hug. She pulled back and grinned at her two college friends. "So, how was the flight? Any problems?"

Maria rolled her eyes and pointed her thumb in Liz's direction. "Flight was great, but we almost didn't make the flight because of this one here. She took way too long saying goodbye to lover-boy, Brady, if you ask me. I mean, there was actually a moment when I thought she was going to back out of the trip just so her lips could stay connected to his for the rest of the summer. I practically had to pull her off of him."

Liz's creamy cheeks blushed red from Maria's description. "Oh, come on, Maria. We weren't that bad."

Maria's chuckle filled the air. "Yes, you were. Even the little old ladies were staring at you guys. Although I really can't be sure if they were disgusted with your 'public display of affection' or if they were wishing they were about 50 years younger so they could partake. Either way, I hope I never get that attached to someone."

"Why not?"

Maria did a little 'dance' in front of Isabel and Liz. "Cuz I'm an independent woman, baby! No man's gonna tie me down! I'm telllin' ya, there is no man on the face of this planet who could make me give up my freed…"

"Isabel." A deep warm voice behind her cut Maria's word in two and she couldn't help the rush of heat that flowed through her body at the sound of that voice. Maria whipped around to stare into a solid wall. Her eyes climbed the wall in anticipation then blinked in shock at the warm brown eyes that met hers in amusement. Her eyes traveled up a little further to the top of his head and she scrunched up her nose at his wildly spiked hair.

The amusement left his eyes when he noticed the way her nose scrunched in disgust. He stared back down into her green eyes and cocked an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

Maria blinked and brought her eyes back to his. There was something abrasive in his tone that hit Maria the wrong way. "Yeah, there is. I was just wondering how long it's been since you've had a bath."

"What?"

Waving a hand in the air nervously, Maria began to ramble. "You know…a bath. With water. Soap. Maybe even shampoo. I've always heard you Europeans don't bathe…I just didn't think I'd have to learn through experience…"

"I'm not European." His eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not even bloody English. I'm American. Or are you too dense to pick up that I don't have an accent like the rest of these skirt-wearing…"

"OK." Isabel stepped in between her two friends and pushed them back from each other. "Now that you've met, why don't I introduce you?" She turned to Maria and pointed to the man still glaring at her. "Maria, this is Michael Guerin. Michael's a friend of my brother, Max. Max and Michael's sister, Tess, are dating so who knows one day he might be part of the family." Turning to Michael, Isabel raised an eyebrow to Michael and pointed to Maria. "Michael, this is Maria DeLuca. A friend of mine." Next she indicated Liz who was standing to the side taking it all in with a huge grin. "And this is Liz Parker."

Michael's gaze drifted to Liz and he nodded in acknowledgement before his gaze returned to Maria and picked up their argument as if it had never been interrupted. "Just so you know, I took a bath…"

"Please. I don't want details…"

"And I don't want you going around telling people I smell!" Michael shot back.

"Yeah? Well, then maybe you should…"

"Guys! Guys! Guys!" Isabel yelled bring all of their eyes to her face. "We're going to be together for the next month. Can we at least try to make an effort to get along?" Isabel looked at Maria who mumbled, "I will if he will" under her breath.

Isabel looked at Michael who was glaring at Maria. "Michael? Please? For Max's sake? You know with everything going on he doesn't need any more pressure…"

At the mention of his friend, Michael relented with a nod. "Fine. Now, where's the luggage? I've got the car out front to take us to the castle."

"It's at our feet, lug…" Maria began then bit her tongue to keep from finishing that thought. Oh, how she wanted to call him 'lughead'. She received a giggle from Liz, a warning look from Isabel and a 'hrump' from Michael as he walked past her and picked up Liz's two suitcases in one hand. He reached down to pick up a paper-covered package when Liz reached out and stopped him.

"Oh, that's ok. I'll carry this my self."

Isabel's face broke into a wide grin. "You're kidding me, right? You brought your canvasses with you? Liz, we do have paints and canvasses here in Scotland you know…"

Liz began to laugh at Isabel's misunderstanding. "No, this isn't a blank canvass. It's my special painting. I never go anywhere without it."

"Yeah, and she doesn't let anyone see it either." Maria quipped giving Liz a playful roll of her eyes. "It's some creative painter thing. She thinks she'll lose her inspiration if she doesn't have that painting with her."

Michael smiled down at Liz, partially because he found her sweet smile refreshing and partially because he was hoping to make her pixieish friend angry. "Makes complete sense to me. Every artist needs a muse…even if it is only two-dimensional."

"Oh, yeah? And what would you know about art?" Maria crossed her arms in front of her and shot a disinterested look in Michael's direction.

"Since I've studied it for about 10 years, I'd say a helluva lot more than you, Ms.-I-can't-even-wear-colors-that-match."

Maria's mouth dropped open to say something when Isabel stopped her. "Well, look at the time. Getting pretty late. Don't you think we should head back now?"

Taking the hint, Michael bit back a hasty retort and turned toward the door beginning to lead. "The car's over this way…"

"Hey, what about my luggage?" Maria asked.

Michael shrugged as his eyes began to twinkle with mischief. "Get it yourself. I wouldn't want to be the one man on the face of this planet that comes between you and your precious 'independence'." One last smirk and Michael turned and headed out the door.

With a growl Maria picked up her luggage and followed him mumbling under her breath the entire way. Isabel and Liz exchanged glances then shared a smile. "Looks like it's going to be a long month with those two." Liz commented as she picked up her painting. "So what's Max like? I mean, you really didn't say much about what's going on just that you needed our help."

Isabel's smile faded and a sadness clouded her eyes. "He's…changed, Liz." Isabel said softly, absently. When she realized that Liz was staring at her patiently waiting for more, Isabel forced a smile and shook her head slightly. "I'm not really sure what's happened, but I'm hoping that everyone being there will cheer him up. That is…if he joins us much."

"You're really worried about him, aren't you?"

Isabel nodded slowly then forced herself to brighten. "Yeah, but he's not the only reason I asked you guys to come. I really hope we'll have lots of fun…"

"I'm sure we will. Especially you when Alex gets here in a few days." Liz replied with confidence. That confidence slipped away the moment she glanced out the windows to the car waiting for them. "And…just as long as we can stop them from killing each other…"

"Oh, no…" Isabel groaned when she got a glimpse of what Liz saw before. Michael and Maria standing toe to toe, staring each other down in yet another battle of wills.

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The moor suited his mood. Dark. Desolate. Brooding. Forlorn.

Who was he kidding? It suited more than just his mood. It suited his personality…his whole world of late. Late meaning ever since he'd come to this cursed place three months ago.

Did I say 'cursed'? Perhaps the word should have been 'haunted' instead. The word would not be randomly chosen then. For indeed, Dunvegan Castle was just that. Frequented by the centuries of ghosts who had walked the cold gray halls. Draped in the mysterious tales of secret honor and love. Haunting the inhabitants. Whispering a message that there was still a score to settle. A love to capture. A vow to keep. A destiny to unleash…

At least that's the way it seemed to one inhabitant.

Maxwell Phillip Evans, adopted son of Phillip and Diane Evans, had come to the Isle of Skye three long months ago. As a favor to his father and on a personal pilgrimage of sorts, Max had eagerly accepted the duty to go to his family's ancestral home in Scotland…Dunvegan Castle…to oversee the running of the castle.

With a mind for business and a steady, serious demeanor, Max appeared mature and much older than his twenty-three years. He was kind and although charming, a full-fledged smile from Max Evans was a rare thing indeed. His voice was gentle and seldom raised in anger as he graciously greeted the staff or villagers when he'd go into the nearby town of Portree. Quiet and reserved, Max went about his business in an intelligent, professional manner that spoke of fairness and good manners. A perfect candidate for the undertaking. In many ways, he seemed to fit the stiff, musty, classic atmosphere that hung over the castle like a dark cloud. That was…until the voices began.

Now, he just seemed crazy.

Not crazy in the sense that he was running around the castle grounds flapping his arms like a bird trying to take to flight. Although, could it speak, the spirit within Max would give an argument on that one. His restless spirit seemed to want to break free from its prison and soar to the sky in escape. To find something in its freedom that would finally give Max the one thing he never had. Peace.

But then again, that was nothing new.

That's one of the reasons he'd come to Dunvegan so willingly. To escape. Questions about his past. Decisions about his future. But most of all…to escape who he was.

So while the present conditions at Dunvegan gave him the opportunity to escape all those things, it also gave him something more. Something he hadn't counted on. It gave him a ghost. Not just the usual hauntings that were legendary within the castle gates, but a private ghost. Personal. One that haunted his dreams at night and whispered meaningless phrases through his mind during the day. One that sought him out. It drove Max to seek companionship so that he could easily dismiss the sometimes troubling voice. At the same time, it also forced Max from society.

For at any given moment, Max was prone to absently address the air around him though no word had been spoken out loud. Or close his eyes in the middle of a meeting as a dreamy smile played on his lips. He began to bark orders to the staff instead of making gentle requests. And his sleeping habits were off. Times when he should be hard at work, his body was hard at sleep. Maybe it would be best to say it was hard at dreaming.

The dreams. They were not always unpleasant. In fact, Max had awakened from them in those early days, several times with a contented sigh. Feeling wrapped in a warm blanket of love and completeness usually has that affect on a person. And Max was no exception. It was only the last month or so that the dreams had changed. They became more intense. Full of fear and anger and…hopelessness.

That's when Max changed. The underlying current of restlessness became more acute. Anticipation gripped his heart. He was more easily frustrated with everything, and everyone, around him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something was…happening. Changing. Impending doom was on its way as sure as the sun rose in the east and set in the west. He could feel it coming. Just the way one feels a storm long before the thunder sounds and lighting cracks. It was in the air. Swirling around him. Filling him when he breathed. Getting stronger with each tick of the clock.

And Max was powerless to stop it. Because he had no idea what it was. But he got the distinct impression this wasn't the first time it…whatever it was…had happened.

Then again…considering the events to come…cursed may have been the right word after all…