posted on 29-Oct-2001 10:03:53 PM by Fehrbaby
Well, like IOU I'm posting this on both boards. You can find prior parts on the repost forum of the old board or at my message board (in my siggy) Enjoy!

Title: Sinister Contrivance
Author: Christina/Fehrbaby
Disclaimer: I don't own, yada yada yada, please don't sue.
Rating: PG-13 for language
Category: Max/Liz
Summary: Post destiny - new boy comes to school and captures Liz's interest, but is he really the perfect boyfriend he appears to be? (What do you think? Would this be an interesting story, otherwise?)

Part 18

The eyes, Isabel mulled in frustration as she stared down at the smudged rendition of Liz's child. She just couldn't get them right. They weren't dark enough, weren't menacing enough. And it seemed that no amount of effort on her part could bring to life the unnatural alertness they had possessed in the dream walk.

She wondered, and not for the first time, why it was so important to get it down on paper? It wasn't just a necessity, it had become an obsession. The more she thought about it - and she had, at exhausting length - she was convinced that she had seen this child before.

You have to know what to look for...

Her own words. The advice spoken to her by her dream self. Though she had no clue what she was supposed to be looking for, or what, perhaps, she was missing, she couldn't shake the feeling that this child was the key to everything. Or at least a good starting point.

Not that she could tell that to anyone else. She'd been keeping her drawing to herself, hiding it from anyone connected to their group and situation. They wouldn't understand. They already believed she was too paranoid over her vision in the first place. If they saw this, she was sure they'd give her crap for wasting her time on the drawing, or even begin humoring her. And there was nothing more that she hated than being patronized.

Irritation flared inside of her. Why couldn't they believe how strongly she felt about this? What had happened to them all to make them so crazy? The only person who seemed to take her warning seriously was Tess. Of all people! It seemed to her that if Tess really wanted Max to all herself, she would be more than pleased to let Liz run off with Damien. Instead, she was the one lobbying the hardest to keep an eye on Liz's every move.

Why? What was her motivation? What was in it for her? Isabel tucked the question away in her brain, reminding herself to ask later. Now, she had a drawing to complete.

Leaning closer to the pad of paper on her desk, she flipped her pencil over and ran the eraser tip over the drawing, shaving a fraction off the left eye, then the right.

Before attempting to reshape the eyes, she drew in a deep breath and concentrated. In perfect detail, the vision of the infant appeared in her head. Naturally it hadn't taken long to conjure the image; the dark, chilling gaze was indelibly imprinted in her mind.

Though she'd been expecting it, the startling clarity of the image maintained it's powerful grip on her. Fear, stark and vivid, knotted inside her. Of their own accord, the muscles in her arm jerked, knocking her open textbook off the desk.

"Is there a problem, Miss Evans?"

The cold voice penetrated her ears like a blade, snapping her back to reality. She glanced around self consciously. Several of her fellow classmates were watching her, and a shadow of annoyance reflected in Mr. Razak's beady eyes.

Raising finely arched eyebrows, Isabel turned on her sweetest, most enchanting smile. "I'm so sorry," she replied. "I must have been day dreaming. I promise it won't happen again."

Although the older man sighed noisily through his upturned nose, she didn't miss the softening of his features, or the mild appreciation reflected in his eyes. She had to admit, sometimes she thanked god for whoever had supplied her human DNA. They had bequeathed her both a classical beauty and an inate sensuality that could get her out nearly any scrape.

Releasing a mute sigh of relief after Mr. Kazak turned back to the board, Isabel leaned down to retrieve her book, and cast a swift glance around the room. Her eyes stopped on Liz, who was one of the only people in the room still watching her. Isabel smiled thinly, but Liz didn't return it.

Her brows knitted in confusion. Because not only had Liz not returned her smile, but a sudden icy contempt flashed in her chocolate-brown eyes.

Taken back, Isabel stiffened in her chair. Had she done something? She racked her brain to provide an explanation but she was coming up blank. Her arms rose in a questioning gesture. "What?" she mouthed across the room.

Liz didn't answer. With a withering glare, she turned her attention back to the front of the room, leaving Isabel puzzling over her sudden hostility for the remainder of the period.

*****

"Hey, batta batta..."

"Let's go, Evans! Knock it out of the park!"

Snorting, Max tightened his grip on the metal baseball bat he was holding and dug his feet into the ground. His earlier optimism for the class had been premature. He'd been so excited that he wouldn't have to face Liz during his last class, that he'd completely forgotten about the possibility he would share sixth period with her new boyfriend.

"Keep your eye on the ball, Max!" one of his teammates cheered from behind him. "Keep your eye on the ball."

Max's jaw clenched. It was Damien he had to keep his eye on. The creep had already thrown two angry pitches his way, and both had been aimed directly at his head. The last one had barely missed him by an inch - he'd caught the wind of it on his cheek. One look into his face had made it clear that it was no accident. Away from Liz, it seemed, Damien held no reserves about revealing his true nature. He'd made it clear, and in no uncertain terms, that he hated Max with a passion.

"If I were you, I'd keep my eye on the pitcher," he heard Michael, who was playing catcher, say from below him.

Max glanced down. Michael hadn't said so much as two sentences to him since the first day of school. "Funny," he muttered, "That's just what I was thinking."

Coach Ramirez clapped his hands together. "Let's play ball!"

"Hey, batta, batta, batta..."

White-knuckling the bat, Max braced himself as Damien went into his wind-up.

"Arrgghh!" Damien growled, wielding the ball as though it were an axe.

"...sa-wing!"

The ball flew right towards his head, so fast that Max had no other option than to jump backwards, but he tripped on the way and ended up lying flat on his back. The wind was knocked out of his lungs, and he gasped for breath as jagged rocks dug into his back. Though the sun blinded his vision, he heard an unmistakable noisy clang of the ball slamming into the wire-meshed backstop with incredible force.

"Son of a bitch."

"BALL THREE!" Coach Ramirez bellowed.

"Come on, Sylk, keep it cool," one of the opposing team members called. "Nice and easy."

"Here," Michael said, extending his hand. Blinking rapidly, Max took his hand as he was helped to his feet.

Once the sun-spots disappeared from his vision, Max nodded at Michael. "Thanks."

"Not much to thank me for," Michael muttered. He looked forward, a scowl appearing on his face. Max followed his gaze. "Look at him smiling. If you really want to thank me, you'll take his fucking head off."

Max caught Michael's eye. "You don't mean...?"

"Damn straight." One corner of Michael's lip quirked behind his catcher's helmet as he crouched down and pounded his fist into his mitt. "Knock that arrogant smile right off that bastard's face."

With a snort of bitter laughter, Max took his stance. He spread his legs wide and ground his toes into the dirt, determined to be ready this time. Not that he planned to hit him in the face, but the chest would work quite well. A few practice swings later, he raised the bat into place, letting a tingling warmth surge into his forearms.

"Come on, Damien! Right down the middle," he heard a voice say.

"That's right," Max murmured under his breath. "Right down the middle, creep."

Not that he actually expected it to come right down the middle. In fact, he was counting on just the opposite.

His eyes zeroed in on Damien, who's disconcerting eyes returned his heated glare with a burning intensity.

Time appeared to slow down. Max watched him bring the ball to his chest and direct a look towards first base in normal time, but the minute his arm fell back, it looked as though he were preparing to throw underwater.

There was a grunt from Damien, closer to a battle cry of fury, as his arm came up overhead and the ball began racing towards Max's head.

Steady...steady...NOW!

With reflexes quicker than any human possessed, Max dropped the bat, caught the ball, and whipped it back towards the number 13 screened into Damien's jersey with a speed almost faster the human eye could follow.

If Max had been waiting for any signs of fear from Damien, he was disappointed. Instead, a smug smile came over his face, as though he'd been anticipating the move.

The ball was moving right on target, inching in closer and closer, until...

Damien raised his hand like he were planning to catch the ball, but then, as if yanked by an invisible force, the ball's trajectory changed. It had been just seconds from impacting Damien's chest when it happened, but was now heading straight for it's new target; Damien's face.

The world didn't slow down this time. Instead, everything began to move at whirlwind speed. The ball slamming into Damien's eye; Damien's hands flying upwards, accompanied by a wail that pierced the air like a knife; Damien crumpling like a rag-doll.

"OH, MY EYE! MY EYE!"

"I-I'm sorry," Max said loudly, genuinely, feeling bad, although confused.

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?" Damien cried. He temporarily lowered his hand, and Max almost gasped when he saw a brief smirk appear on his face - that dropped as the coach neared. "ARE YOU COMPLETELY CRAZY?"

"I'LL SHOW YOU CRAZY," Max returned, his mood veering sharply to anger. He lunged forward, ready add a broken nose to the list, but Coach Ramirez was already racing between them, arms spread as though he were calling a close slide.

"Stay back!" the coach warned Max. "Stay back!"

With his back turned towards Damien, the coach couldn't see the satisfied wink Damien sent Max.

Max pressed forward, ignoring Coach Ramirez and everyone else. He had eyes only for the guy lying on the ground, and he was ready to do some damage. But the coach had other plans. He wrapped his arms around Max's chest in a wrestling hold and thrust him backwards.

"Cut it out, now!" he yelled. "Ten laps! I don't ever want to see you pull a stunt like that again, Evans."

Max broke free from the coach with a cry of outrage. "Me? He's threw four pitches directly at my face!"

The coach shook his head, as if that was totally irrelevant.

Max glared at Damien, considering whether it would be worth it to rip his head off, but Michael stepped in front of him just then. "Just let it go," he said soothingly. "Come on, Max."

Max directed his anger at Michael. "Was that you?" he demanded.

Michael was surveying the spectacle Damien was making with disdain. "Huh?"

"Was it you who made the ball fly off course like that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I was throwing it at his chest, not his face."

Michael looked confused. "You were?"

"Yes."

"Well, you missed," Michael said, smirking.

"So you didn't do it?" Max made sure.

With a roll of the eyes, the spiky-haired alien tossed his hands up. "Jesus! No, I didn't do it!"

"If I didn't do it, and you didn't do it, then who did?"

Michael looked forward again, a suspicious light gleaming in his eyes. "That's a good question," he said slowly.

"GO!" The coach barked. "Laps! Now!"

Max growled in anger and frustration, then stalked to the track.

"Are you okay, Sylk?" he heard Coach Ramirez ask from behind him.

"I think I'll be okay, Sir," Damien said with such mock bravery that Max considered going back and taking a piece of him after all, but he decided against it. Besides, running laps might be good for him, he decided. It would help him expel some of his new found energy, give him time to make sense of what had happened to the ball, and think about how he was going to expose Damien for the creep he was, once and for all.

*****

Perhaps there was nothing too covert about standing outside the door and listening, but Alex didn't want to miss anything. With a cautious glance around the hall, Alex lowered his ear to the door. He hoped to get some kind of clue as to why Tess and the new teacher would be meeting so secretly. Though muffled, the voices beyond the door were still audible.

"I assure you, no one is suspicious," he heard Tess say. "Except..."

"Except?" Jake prompted, the low timbre of his voice much more difficult to decipher.

"Well, it's Max. Not of me, but he's suspicious of you after the way you almost ran him over the other night. That was unwise, don't you think? I thought we decided it was better for you to stay in the background. We can't risk them knowing too much."

"What did you want me to do?" Jake asked, his voice rising an octave. "If he had seen her face, it would have been all over. We should be thanking our lucky stars she didn't reveal herself to him."

"Only because he was with her."

"True, but I wouldn't put it past her to try. She knows she has an advantage that we don't."

"She's too stupid to try," Tess scoffed. "Always has been. Besides, she knows that Max will never believe her. The bond Max and I have always shared is powerful. He'd see right through her, I assure you."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. First, if she's as stupid as you say, she may be stupid enough to try. Second, people tend to believe in what they can see, over what their instincts tell them. Even your precious Max." The last part, Alex noted, was said with obvious disdain.

Tess hesitated. "You're right. I did. But Max and I share something that even the human psyche can't mask." Her voice turned wistful. "I know you still don't understand, but it wasn't always this way between us. You never got to see us together like we used to be. I swear, Max is the best kind of person there is. There isn't a selfish bone in his body. He gives and gives, and keeps on giving, and doesn't stop until he finally looks around and realizes he has nothing left."

Silence. Alex thought that may be it, but he didn't pull back, especially when he heard Tess' voice again. She sounded pained. "I know how hard this is for you. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do, believe me. But I promise you, your sacrifice won't be in vain. He's full of good intentions, and he'll make things right again. The way they should have been."

Sacrifice? He'd never been so confused by a conversation in his life. Who was the "she" they kept talking about? And why, whenever Tess spoke, did he feel so uneasy? Something, besides the obvious, just wasn't right. It was there, like a name he just couldn't place on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't put his finger down on it.

"So you've said. I'm sorry if I don't see it."

What Tess said next was too low to be heard, but he could still hear Jake's reply.

"Would I have come if I didn't?"

"Well, it will all turn to nothing if we don't do something soon. The dance is Friday. That only gives us four days to convince everyone that Liz is in danger, and we have to do it without rousing suspicion."

A shiver of apprehension crawled up Alex's spine at the mention of Liz.

"Remind me again why we just don't tell them."

"You know why," Tess said flatly.

That was it, Alex couldn't stay back any longer, not when it concerned his best friend being in danger. Before he had time to reconsider, his back of his fist was pounding on the door. "Open up!"

He heard some soft rustling from inside. The handle slowly turned.

Tess was the only one in view, but the moment he looked into her grave blue eyes, the cause for his uneasiness hit him like ice-water.

"Why don't you tell me who you really are," he said, fighting to keep the quiver out of his voice. It's not what he wanted to say, but how could he possibly say that? Everything he saw with his eyes told him he was looking at Tess. From the pale hair to the cobalt eyes, to the small, petite figure, it was her. But everything he felt told him what he was seeing was an illusion. And although every neuron in his brain told him he wasn't being rational, this was something that went beyond the realms of rational thought.

On top of that, Tess' aqua blue eyes couldn't hide the keen intelligence and independence of spirit he only knew in one person. And the way she had been talking, about bonds and her faith in Max to do the right thing, it only supported what his mind was trying to convince him wasn't possible.

But the truth was staring him in the face. He may have been looking into the eyes of Tess Harding, but he was staring into the soul of...

"Liz?"

TBC***




*tongue*
posted on 8-Nov-2001 2:15:21 PM by Fehrbaby
Gotta go outta town this weekend and visit my man, but I will try to get the new part out next week sometime. But if you'd like a hint...

well, yes, Liz and Tess have switched bodies, but not in the way you think. Hope that keeps you wondering. *big*

*bounce*Christina*bounce*