|posted on 8-Sep-2001 9:24:54 PM by Clay|
|Title: Straying: A Max and Liz ITLITB Vignette|
Disclaimer: I definitely. definitely. do not own these imposters hereby called Max and Liz.
Note: I always thought it was extremely perverse how the ultimate nasty came after a scene in which we had a suddenly burst of Max and Liz sexual chemistry, having hovered somewhere around zero in that department all year long. I wrote this right after that episode aired, and it's my answer to that particular injustice, kingly asshole Max, and serves as the bridge between that scene and the unspeakable one following.
I should add that I absolutely do not see Liz in this way, but it was written primarily to slam the King for his demonstated ability to think with only, ah, certain parts of his anatomy.
Special apology to those of you waiting for next installment of The Middle Way. I assure you, I've been working on it, but I seem to be unable to stop myself from working on all the wrong parts. Such as the ones that don't come for a while yet. I will definitely have a part up by tomorrow though, thanks for waiting.
“Liz, don’t get in that cab.”
Liz ignored Max and motioned to the cabbie.
“Load it up.”
Max’s hand shot out and he yanked the bag from her hands, tossing it into his Jeep.
“Liz, get in my car.”
His face nearly collided with hers as she retrieved her bag and threw it back toward the cab.
“What are you gonna do? You’re gonna throw me in it?”
Liz moved a bag toward the open door of the cab and the next thing she knew, she was flying toward the passenger seat in the Jeep. She landed with a thud, and sat there, stunned for a moment, until she felt white-hot rage seeping into her and replacing her shock. Max climbed in next to her.
Fucking asshole. The thought consumed her, but she clenched her stomach and her fists mercilessly into a tight pressure, willing herself to calm and think rationally. Who could even say what the goddamn hell was wrong with him, but she should have known something like this was going to happen when he was physically intimidating her in school earlier in the day.
“Liz, you have to listen to me.” Max’s jaw was clenched, and he was leaning over, purposely getting into her space.
“Don’t even pull that king card on me, Max. I’m not Isabel. You can’t boss me around,” she seethed, her eyes hotly meeting his. She glared at him defiantly, pulling her nose into the air until she was a mere breath from him.
Liz heard his breath catch, and her brain whirled until she latched onto an idea.
“If this is about being pissed at me, fine. Punish me all you want. But what about everyone else? What you're doing puts them at risk.”
Max hadn’t budged an inch from their close proximity, so she held her space for a long moment, realizing this would work. Liz lowered her eyes, and then slowly reached across him for the back of the seat. When he stayed stock still, she lowered herself onto his lap lightly, straddling him. Liz could hear his breath shortening, and the corners of her mouth turned upwards. It was too easy.
She placed her hands gently on his shoulders and lowered her dark head until her lips were centimeters from his. She paused there for a moment, then moved ever more slowly past his jaw until she was next to ear.
Liz whispered hotly into it, “What I'm doing may save their lives.”
Max suddenly reached for her, running his hands down her sides until they were at her waist. He pulled her not so subtly closer, bringing their bodies into contact with one another.
“But you have a responsibility,” he growled, nearly nestling his face into her neck.
Liz wrapped a hand around the base of his neck, passively wondering if she could get him to forget the rest of whatever he was trying to say as she rubbed the sensitive area and played with the little curls of hair there.
Max growled again, shifting slightly so that Liz could feel Little Max, Braintrust Max, Head of the Operation Max, anxious to have his day. “To Michael, Isabel, and Tess not to . . . get . . . in that cab.”
“And I have a responsibility,” she cooed, raking her fingers tantalizingly down his chest, “to Alex to find out what really happened.”
Max felt Liz’s silky tresses brush against his cheek, and he inhaled, willing her mouth to come back into sight.
“Liz,” he murmured, sure that this would keep her from straying, “if you go, our friendship is over.”
Liz’s temper flared slightly, but in a moment she was smiling wickedly out of his sight. She slid her body up along his and slipped her hand between his thighs and giving his hardness a little mock-affectionate squeeze.
Max made a low guttural sound in the back of his throat.
“I guess that's the price I have to pay,” she sang lightly, alternating between caressing his inner thigh and teasing his proud little soldier. “Somebody killed Alex and covered up his death. Why don't you see that, Max? Wake up.”
Max’s eyes were closed and his breathing was ragged. “I’m ready, Liz. I’m ready to wake up now,” he panted, opening his eyes to half-mast and reaching for her.
Liz smirked, rose from her position, and nimbly hopped out of the Jeep to ground below.
“Sorry Max, you’re going to have to hire someone or find Tess. I have a friend I love, a plane to catch, and a murder to decipher.”
Liz threw him a cold glance, ducked into the cab, and slammed the door.
Max could only watch, stunned, as the car peeled out and sped away.
Edited by - Clay on 09/10/2001 00:23:02