|posted on 29-Dec-2001 8:22:36 AM by CanadianRoswellian|
Summery: Liz Parker is a 17 year old British girl who is forced to live with her aunt in America after a tragic accident claims the life of both her parents. There she meets all the other characters, and might find true love in the arms of one Max Evans.*NC-17 possible if I get a good response*
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell, but considering I'm so cute, can I have Alex? Please?!
"Still surprise you when it shatters
But nothing matters
Still surprise you when it shatters
Don’t you know that nothing happens
But a lot goes on
A lot goes on
But nothing happens
A lot goes on
A lot goes on
But nothing happens"
- 'Nothing Much Happens' by Ben Lee
"America?" Elizabeth Parker cried in outrage. She sat upright in the hard wooden which she was seated. "You can’t be serious." Her tone was timid, but firm.
"I’m afraid so."
"Can’t she come here? Can’t we find a way which I wouldn’t have to leave?" She played nervously with the sleeve of her black button-up blouse.
He shook his head regretfully from across the sturdy wooden desk. "You’re only seventeen, you need to have a legal guardian."
She stood. "But I have friends, people who knew my family. Who could take me in here."
"In the will she was named the legal guardian. And she has word in this. She doesn’t want you to be alone, or living with a friend. She believes you would best be looked after with her."
"She would," Liz breathed bitterly. She could feel the sting as tears welled up in her eyes. But this was not the way to behave. She was a Parker. Parker’s were composed. They were strong, and they got what they wanted when they wanted.
Her father had been a lawyer, and a good one at that. He’d been a strong man, never overly affectionate, but he’d given his daughter everything she could have possibly wanted. Her mum had mostly raised her alone, because of her father’s business schedule. She’d shared a special bond with her mum, it was if they were sisters over mother and daughter. Though she hadn’t spent much time with her father, she had picked up some of the basic principals of business. He’d sat her down after tea, when she was 14. He’d decided she was old enough to understand everything.
Liz let herself sit in the rose colored love seat in the living room of their prominent London flat. She studied her father’s rough features carefully. They were serious, and business-like. They always were. There was rarely a time when her father would smile, or laugh. Or get angry at that fact. If he disapproved of something she did he would simply raise his eyebrows questionably, expecting her to realize how he felt.
"Elizabeth, dear," he began strongly. Liz felt herself blush, intimidated. She wasn’t used to him sitting her down to talk. Usually they’d have brief, unimportant conversations over tea if he was home by then. He’d ask about school, and she’d give him short answers. Her schooling was always marvelous nevertheless. Liz was a wonderful student, and participated in many of the extracurricular activities the school provided.
"Yes?" She said shyly. She was always afraid of saying something to her father that he would not like or agree with. She’d taken to speaking to him in a soft voice.
"You’re old enough to know this now," he said, sitting down beside her. She slid over slightly, leaving more room for him to occupy if needed. She could smell the scotch on his breath, and she assumed that that might be one of the reasons this conversation they were having came about. He’d come home late, missing supper entirely, and she’d known he had been drinking. He’d kissed her mother hello, making excuses about business, and visiting the pub quite briefly with a few colleagues. Then he’d beckoned Liz into the living room.
"Darling, you’re a teenager, now. Are you not?" He inquired, and she simply nodded. "Well, I believe that at certain age everyone should know the fundamentals of business and law. How to be successful in life." He looked down at her pointedly. "And I do expect you to be successful."
She nodded again, the topic of conversation materializing in her brain. He wanted to talk business. And about how because she was a Parker, she must be perfect and wonderful. Liz resented this. Her family came from money, yes, and they weren’t full of scandals or anything like that. But that did not mean that she would be the one to disgrace them. It always seemed as though he thought she was going to be the downfall of the family, the black sheep. Always disapproving of one thing or another.
"When I was about your age my father, he was a judge, as you know. Well, he sat me down for this very same talk. And I turned out just fine." He chuckled lightly, remembering. "The first thing he told me was that you have to be firm. Honey, the way you talk…So timid and shy. You need to strengthen it up. Demand what you want, don’t ask lightly." He paused. "Next, don’t let your opponent know what you or your client—if you should have one—is feeling. This shows weakness…And when weakness is spotted, its only a step away from total defeat."
She nodded once again, listening intently.
He raised his eyebrows, and Liz sighed inwardly. She cleared her throat, and said, "yes." But this did not satisfy her father, as his eyebrows raised even higher on his face. "Yes," she repeated firmly.
And then he had continued, for quite some time. Telling her all the details on how she would become the heir to their fortune, and he did not expect her to be some ‘weak-willed ninny’ as he’d so cordially put it.
Liz had always tried so hard to please her father, but now it seemed it was all in vain. And she couldn’t even get the sorting of the will done correctly! He would have been especially disappointed in her, had he been there. But he wasn’t. He never would be again, and neither would her mum.
Her mum had loved her madly, always spending time fussing over Liz, asking her questions about everything, always attending important meetings at the school, or just taking Liz out shopping for a date, or a school dance. It was her mum that she would miss the most of the two of them. Liz could never see precisely why her parents had been married at all, especially for all those years. Yet, her mother never complained when her father was at the pub, or when he forgot a special day. She always just smiled and said "it’s all right, darling." Liz didn’t think she’d have the strength to take that for 20 years.
Sometimes her mum would tell her stories of how her and Liz’s father had fallen in love when they went to the same college in Worcester. They’d had a short courtship, and were married the same year. Apparently, Mr. Parker had not always been so unfeeling. He had been a lovesick fool in college, serenading her mum, and doing all sorts of wild things. Supposedly he hadn’t even particularly wanted to be a lawyer. He was going to be a writer intentionally.
Sometimes Liz would sit in bed wondering what happened that changed his mind. Brought him to the state that he was when she was alive. She imagined him as ‘Jeff’, not her father. She would look at photographs and see a handsome, fresh-faced young man smiling back at her. A man which looked nothing like her father, who’s hair was graying, with wrinkles appearing at the sides of his eyes and creasing his forehead. Her dad was a man with an almost permanent frown across his thin lips. What had dramatically changed him so much?
Of course, now Liz would never be able to find out. It’s not as though she would be able to ask him or her mum. The funeral had been on Tuesday. It had been a particularly gray and wet morning, fitting for a funeral. The ground was wet and muddy from the evening shower, and the luminous dark clouds overhead were threatening more rain. She’d wanted to go to the funeral, she had. But when she’d witnessed herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom, wearing all black, she’d completely crumbled apart.
She was still sobbing hysterically when her grandmother had discovered her in her bedroom, sitting on her bed hugging her favorite teddy. Instead of the funeral, the doctor had given her a sedative, to help her rest. The doctor had told the others that she was in no condition to attend. But how she wanted to, to say her last farewell.
She’d never officially gotten to say goodbye. Her father had a three-day seminar in Liverpool, and asked her mum to come along. They’d left early in the morning, and Liz had woken herself, and gone off to school. When she arrived home that afternoon she found a message on the answering machine from her father’s best friend Edward Harding asking her to call him back immediately.
"Hello?" Came the bubbly answer.
"Hi, Tess, it’s Liz Parker," she had greeted Ed’s daughter. Liz had never particularly cared for Tess. She was a year younger than Liz, and seemed to spend most of her time either ordering people about, or gossiping. That was just not the type of person Liz liked to associate with.
"Lizzie!" Tess squeaked. Strange, it was usually a squeal. "How are you doing, sweetheart?" She gushed sweetly. This didn’t seem strange to Liz. She always was full of insincerity. But for reasons unknown Tess had it in her mind that Liz was one of her best friends. She was always inviting her out. Reluctantly, Liz usually agreed, but just to appease her father.
"I’m fine, Tess, but I’ve got to talk to your father, he left me an urgent message," Liz said politely, praying that the girl wouldn’t keep her talking for long.
There was a silence at the other end of the phone. Now this was what concerned Liz. Usually Tess would be halfway through a story about people that Liz didn’t even know. "Tess?" She asked uncertainly.
"Right," Tess said somberly. "He’s right here."
Liz’s stomach twisted. Something defiantly was going on. She tucked a loose strand of silken deep brown hair behind her ear. It had fallen out of the loose bun she had it in. "Liz," came Ed’s strong baritone voice.
"Hey, Ed," she greeted him. "So, what’s going on?"
The phone was quiet again, and Liz’s concern elevated. She heard a rough sigh, and then he spoke, telling her the hardest thing she’d had to hear in her entire life. "At 9:15 this morning there was a head-on collision. The doctors tried everything they could, but…"He cleared his throat laboriously. "I’m sorry, Liz, your parents are dead."
Dead. The words struck her like a punch in the gut. If she were looking the mirror she would have seen her face contort in a look of pure shock. And then she froze, dropping the cordless phone to the floor. She was breathing heavily, as she sank to her knees, hugging them to herself in a fetal position as Edward Harding’s voice kept calling from the phone. But she didn’t hear it. She didn’t hear anything except her grief, and those arduous breaths she was taking.
"Elizabeth?" Came his voice, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Are you listening?" He asked.
She nodded solemnly, offering Edward a small apologetic smile. "What about you? Would you take me in? It would only be for a year."
Ed brought a hand to his temple, and smiled at her lightly, the crow’s feet at his eyes wrinkling. He was always a light-hearted man, the complete opposite to her father. She never quite understood how they could be friends. But like her mum, Ed and her father had met in college. In fact, roommates to be exact. "Liz, I wish I could. But we wouldn’t have anywhere to put you," his face was sincere.
Liz chided herself for even asking. Of course he wouldn’t. After all, Mr. and Mrs. Harding had four children. It’s not as though it’s easy for him to just take on a fifth, even for the expanse of a year. And unlike her family, he was not made out of money, so to speak. He’d worked hard for all he’d accomplished in life. She would have offered to pay a sizable rent. Unfortunately, her assets were not going to be available to her until she was 18, according to Ed. All she had was the remaining 300 pounds in her bank account.
"Right," she said simply. "I’m sorry, I should have thought."
He shook his head. "Don’t apologize. I can sympathize with how you feel. I lost my father to lung cancer when I was around your age." He smiled lightly. "And it gets better, I promise."
"Thank you," she said softly. And she realized she was being completely inconsiderate. After all, she wasn’t the only one who had lost someone. Ed had lost his best friend as well. And her grandmother had lost her mum and her son-in-law.
Liz wished she could live with her grandmother. But that was in no way an option considering her health, and age. She didn’t have the time, nor energy to take in a 17 year old. She was sickly as it was.
Ed rose from his chair, and walked the short expanse around the desk to Liz. Liz rose too, looking him in the eyes. They were both wounded, sharing the same pain. "Come here, kiddo," he said gruffly, letting her fall into his arms.
And Ed held her small frame tight as she let the threatening tears overflow, and fall down her pale cheeks onto his cotton shirt. He held her as the sobs wracked her body. He stroked her soft hair softly, as she let it all out. And he even held her when the tears subsided, and her body no longer shook. He kissed her squarely on the forehead. "I’ll miss you, kiddo," he whispered in her ear, and she nodded her agreement.
She was moving to America.
I already have "I'm With The Star" and "And So We Meet Again..." going on, so I don't really want to continue this story unless I get a good amount of responses.
By the way, I'm not British, so yeah, I don't know if I really used all the lingo or whatever correctly, so I'm sorry if I didn't. I have a few Brit friends though, so I picked up a little. To all the North Americans, "tea" means "dinner". That confused me when I first heard it a long time ago. Lol...
[ edited 4 time(s), last at 4-Feb-2002 10:56:44 PM ]
|posted on 29-Dec-2001 11:42:14 AM by CanadianRoswellian|
|Thank you all for your wonderful feedback! You guys are great |
I've decided to proceed with this story because, well, I like it. And I've felt inspired to write it because I've been watching quite a few of those cute romantic movies lately. I'm such a sap...LOL!
BLS40: Hehe, thanks for assuring me that I've not offended anyone. Do me a favour and if I screw up, let me know because I worship England, I'v just never been there. Oh, and thanks for clearing up the whole tea/dinner thing.
The next part should be up later today or tomorrow. it really depends on how much I have to do today and all. But half the part is written already.
|posted on 30-Dec-2001 5:33:41 AM by CanadianRoswellian|
August 24th Journal Entry One.
I’m Liz Parker, and I’ve just finally realized, it’s amazing how much something can change your outlook on life. It changes you internally, for better or worse. It shatters your entire universe in a moment. It’s also amazing that no matter what is going on in your life, no matter how horrible, or painful, it really doesn’t matter in the big picture. All that you are is this insignificant person with your own petty problems, mixed together with other little people with their own problems.
In the big picture I’m a blip on the radar, and all this happening to me—my parents death, my grief, moving to a whole new country---doesn’t even matter. A lot is going on, but nothing is happening in introspect. And I feel as if I were in a dream. No, not a dream, a dream is a happy thing, a hopeful thing. I am neither happy nor hopeful. This is a nightmare. Not only am alone, an orphan, I have been ripped away from my whole life and plunked down in this whole new world with this relative, an aunt, that I have met a total of four times.
When you’re little, you never really know what you’re going to face in adulthood. You think you’re going to be looked after, loved and sheltered for your entire life, which leaves you to not have a care in the world. And then suddenly you’re this naïve young adult, thrust into a world of big bads, and emotions which you never knew you could have, situations you never imagined.
I’m angry and confused. And I’m still waiting for someone to wake me up.
She placed her black ball point pen in the crease, closing the brown leather bound book. Well, not a book really, a journal. She’d purchased it yesterday, on her psychiatrist’s insistence. Apparently writing out your thoughts and feelings like gushing twelve year old girl was considered a great form of therapy. It did seem to make sense, even if a little tedious. The last time Liz had kept a journal was in fact, when she was twelve. Though she had not been very regular with it, and filled it with all her superficial thoughts and feelings. Eventually it was hidden in the back of her closet, or in a box somewhere. She wasn’t sure, not that it really mattered.
She buried the journal in her large black purse which sat at her feet, then luxuriously stretched out her arms in front of her. She bit her lip nervously, then peered out the window slowly. There had been a short layover in New York, but besides that, this was one of Liz’s first looks at the country of America. Over the past seventeen years of her life she’d traveled to many wonderful places. Italy, Spain, Australia, but not America. Before when she’d met her aunt, she’d flown to London with her daughter.
The view below, past the clouds were small fields and highways, all unimportant to her. They seemed to blend together, from all the way up in the sky. It reminded her of what she had written in her new journal, and suddenly wondered when she’d gotten so philosophical. There was still some time when she would reach her intended destination. The plane would land in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and then there was to be a short car ride to the town of Roswell.
Of course, Liz had heard of Roswell before. Who hadn’t? After all, it was the basis of all the alien conspiracies and jokes. She’d looked it up on the internet as well, and it seemed like a very…theme-based community. The website had boasted about all the themed locations, that is. Also the fact that it was fairly small, which wasn’t very appealing to Liz. She was used to a big city.
She glanced away from the window, her attention on the balding middle-aged man beside her. Earlier they’d had a conversation about his children, he’d shown her pictures of his twin boys, but eventually he’d fallen asleep, exhausted. He was propped up against a small airplane pillow, snoring softly. Liz sighed, and closed her eyes as well. She supposed it wouldn’t be too bad to take a nap. After all, it wasn’t as if they were landing any time soon.
Liz looked skeptically in the mirror. She was paler than usual, dark rings under her eyes. No one could blame her of course. But for some reason she felt that she had to make the best impression possible for her party.
It wasn’t even a party, really. Her best friend Vicky had announced that there was no way that she was leaving without a proper goodbye. So the night before Liz left, they’d had a gathering at Liz’s house. But it wasn’t really Liz’s house anymore. The house was being sold, along with any other possessions that she didn’t want to, or wasn’t able to take with her to her new home. Ed had promised to take care of it all, and then send the money to Liz as soon as possible.
"Are you okay?" Called Vicky’s impatient voice, accompanied with a knock on the door.
"Yeah, just a moment," Liz replied, giving a sigh. She peered at her reflection closely, unsatisfied. "Well, thats as good as its gonna get," she muttered, then opened the door.
Vicky Lewis sat on the floor beside the bathroom door, nervously twirling a lock of her straight honey blonde hair. She was worried about her friend. Liz and her had met when they were in first form, going to the same school. They’d become fast friends, doing everything together.
Nancy Parker has always considered Vicky as her second daughter, basically because Vicky practically lived at their house half the time. Mrs. Parker didn’t know it, but the reason for such was an alcoholic father. But Liz, Liz did know this and made sure of the fact that Vicky was safely home, and unharmed everyday. And if it looked as though something bad might happen, she’d simply invite her friend to stay the night. Liz would have told the police, or even her mum about Mr. Lewis, if it hadn’t been for her best friend’s insistence to keep it quiet.
Vicky had been struck quite hard by the death of the Parker’s. She’d called Liz up to ask if she could spend the night, her father was down at the pub again, but instead she’d been greeted by a male voice, which she hadn’t recognized. He’d asked her who she was, and when she’d told him there was an uncomfortable pause. She then asked to speak to Liz again, and he had said that Liz was unavailable. And then he’d told her what had happened.
She tried to cry, she did. But instead she found her maternal instincts take over, and rushed to Liz’s house as fast as she could. She’d spent the night with Liz in her arms, sobbing. Only when Liz was out of the room—which wasn’t often---would she cry. She had to stay strong for her life-long friend, it felt impertinent to her.
When Liz came out of the bathroom, she stood quickly, a startled expression on her face. She’d quickly wiped it off, knowing that that would no more help Liz feel any better than anything else. Everyone was treating her like a naïve child, like they were walking on eggshells around her. Liz had confided in her friend that she hated it. She hated being treated like an infant. She’d much rather if people would just come out and say what they had to say instead of sending her stares, and talking in hushed voices behind her back. It wasn’t as though she didn’t know what they were saying anyway.
"Before we go down," Vicky started, looking Liz over to make sure she was doing okay. Liz looked as well as could be expected, maybe even better. Vicky knew how important this gathering was for her friend. She pulled out a small silver box from behind her back, handing it to Liz.
Liz took the box, taking off the top. Inside lay two identical silver rings. "One’s for you, and one’s for me," Vicky explained. "I know we’re too old for all that hokey friendship necklace thing, so I got rings instead. That way, whenever you feel lost, or lonely and I’m not there, you’ll have a little part of me to guide you through your troubles."
Liz grinned, then hugged Vicky in a tightly. She was going to miss her the most out of anyone. Well, anyone that was still alive that is. "Thank you, Vic," she said woefully, wiping a tear from her cheek.
"I’m going to miss you so much," Vicky admitted, placing the ring on Liz’s index finger, then the other on hers.
Liz gave her another hug, and kissed her on the cheek. "I love you," she breathed. "You’re my family now." She lay her head on her friends shoulder, letting the tears flow freely.
Vicky stroked her chocolate brown hair, and nodded. "Always," she said, letting herself cry in front of Liz for the first time. "Always."
Liz wiped away a fresh tear off her face, letting her eyes flutter open. She couldn’t believe that that had only been last night. It seemed like decades ago. But still, it was forever burned in her memory, vividly. It always would be.
She worried for her friend, praying that Vic would be okay by herself. She was more worried for Vicky than she was for herself. After all, she loved Vicky like a sister, and a best friend. It wasn’t fair that she had to just up and leave her. Now, of all times. She knew that her friend was suffering. Suffering not only for her friend, but also for herself. She’d been appreciative of how great Vicky had been over the last few weeks, but she knew that Vicky was hiding her pain from her. She knew how Vicky would crawl out of bed to the balcony and cry until she couldn’t anymore.
Liz slipped the small silver ring off her finger, and held it in her hand, as if inspecting it. She closed her palm, squeezing the ring. It was a reminder of her old life, what she had left behind. And she was never going to forget.
"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen," came the flight attendants voice over the PA system. "We will be soon landing in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Please gather all your possessions from the over-head compartments. Thank you for flying with us."
Liz quickly slipped the ring back on her finger, and pulled her purse over her shoulder. This was it. This was the beginning.
Thank you everyone for your wonderful feedback, I really appreciate it a lot. Tell me what you think of this part
|posted on 31-Dec-2001 11:34:44 AM by CanadianRoswellian|
Butterflies played in her stomach as she entered the airport, biting her lip nervously, and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. This was it, her new home. She looked around apprehensively for a familiar face. She didn’t clearly remember what her Aunt looked like, considering it had been so long. The last visit had happened when she was a pre-teen, infatuated with pop music, boys and platform shoes. Her Aunt was her father’s sister, and they weren’t particularly close. If they had, perhaps her Aunt would have been able to make it to the funeral. Of course, supposedly her Aunt owned some sort of restaurant, so it seems it was much to busy with the summer rush to fly all the way to London.
Seeing no one she knew, or she didn’t think she did, Liz made her way over to baggage check, scanning the luggage for her own. Whatever had not accompanied her on the flight was going to be sent in the next few days or so. She waited patiently for her bags to arrive, and when they did, she scooped them up with a little difficulty at the weight.
She did another quick scan of the airport, still spotting no one familiar.
"Elizabeth?" asked a voice behind her, and she turned to see a petite blond gazing at her, her hazel eyes questioning. She wore an ample grin painted across her raspberry lips. Beside her stood a boy which Liz assumed was around the same age as herself. He was handsome, wearing a form-fitting black t-shirt and a scruffy pair of dark denim jeans. His mousy brown hair was spiked up, as if it had been electrocuted.
"Liz," Liz corrected her, returning her greeting. "You are…?" She asked cautiously.
"Oh!" The girl cried, her lips forming in an ‘o’ at the word. "I guess you wouldn’t remember me, its been so long. I’m your cousin, Maria."
Liz examined the girl closer, and saw that, yes, this was in fact Maria DeLuca, her Aunt Amy’s only child. The last time she’d seen Maria they’d only been blossoming youths. Even then they’d gotten along fabulously, though, and they had corresponded for a while through mail and email. Eventually both the girls had been caught up with their own lives, and the communication had dwindled to maybe a card at Christmas or on birthdays.
Liz jumped, surprised, when she was assaulted by the girl’s arms, pulling her into a firm hug. "I’m so glad you’re here!" She cried animatedly. Liz chuckled softly. Maria, still the same bubbly, vivacious girl she’d always been. Releasing Liz, Maria took a breath, and started to explain. "My mom was busy with the restaurant, so she sent me to come pick you up, I hope you don’t mind. I’ve got my car and everything, and I’m a great driver---we drive on the other side of the road here, so that will be kind of cool for you. Our place is kind of small, and we haven’t had a chance to set up your room yet, but I promise that in the next week or so it’ll be perfect so don’t you worry. Also we’ve got a---"
"Maria," interrupted the male. "Stop it, you’re scaring her."
Maria turned to the boy and slapped him lightly against the arm. "If anyone’s scaring her its you, Michael," she hissed, a frown across her lips. She returned her attention back to Liz. "Sorry, this is my…" She stopped herself. "This is Michael."
Liz nodded towards him, "it’s nice to meet you," she greeted. He stood beside Maria, their shoulders barely touching, yet somehow Liz could distinguish the connection between the two. And the spark in her cousin’s eyes when she’d turned around to scold him. That mildly amused smirk he’d given her…There was no doubt in her mind that the two were an item. Maybe not one of the mushy type, holding hands, and gushing ‘I love you’s’, but a couple even still.
"You’re going to be fine," he assured her, grinning down at her doubtful face. He leaned in and kissed the crown of her head tenderly. "You’ll make plenty of new friends, and forget about all of us here."
Liz looked up at him her doe eyes wide. "I’ll never forget you. Never," she breathed. And she wouldn’t. They’d known each other all their lives, first as enemies, then friends, then…Something more. They’d experienced pain and joy together, growing stronger each day.
He looked over his shoulder, gazing at Vicky who wore a teary expression, then at Ed and Tess Harding who also looked dire. "I love you," he whispered rawly, his voice dry with emotion.
A salty tear fell down her cheek as she shook her head, taking a step back. "No, no. Don’t say that. Please."
He looked wounded, but he approached her, wrapping her up in an embrace, placing a supple kiss across her lips. Liz felt herself melt reluctantly, as she let him deepen the kiss, enjoying the feel of it, of him. But she couldn’t let him carry on with this charade. She garnered up the strength to break the kiss, by pushing him away. "Marc, please," she pleaded her voice coarse. "You don’t love me."
"I do, Liz," he replied truthfully. "I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I loved you the moment I set eyes on you." He looked down at the floor, almost as if he were afraid that his eyes would give away just how much he was hurting at the moment. " Losing you…" He breathed, raising his eyes slowly to meet hers. "Will be the hardest thing in the world. I love you."
"You don’t," she argued, biting her bottom lip which was flushed from their kiss.
"I do," he replied just as quickly.
"I don’t." She replied chastely. "I don’t," she repeated her tone hushed. "I’m sorry."
Now he stepped back, a look of conviction across his handsome features, those blue eyes of his growing stormy. "Alright," he replied sullenly, running a hand roughly through his tousled sandy blonde hair.
As Liz peered into his oceany eyes she could see the pain and betrayal he felt. Never in her life had she caused anyone such pain. But how could she lie to him? How could she tell him she loved him if she didn’t? She loved him, she did, but not in the way expected. She loved him as a friend, a brother with benefits. But not as a lover, not as a mate. How could she explain that to him, make him understand? She couldn’t. There was neither the time or words that would let him understand.
He pulled her into another hug, but this one tight, formal. "Goodbye, Elizabeth," he bid her farewell politely, then studying her one last time.
"Marc!" She cried to his departing figure. He ignored her calls, never looking back, never setting his eyes on her again. Her heart twisted painfully. It wasn’t supposed to end that way. It was supposed to end on good terms, promising letters, and maybe phone calls. Not bitterly, not…This way.
She felt Vicky’s warm hand on her shoulder. "Let him go," she told her friend. "There’s no use now."
Liz nodded ruefully, placing her hand on top on her friends. "I do love him," she sighed. "I love him as I love you."
Vicky wiped a tear from Liz’s cheek. "I know, I’ll tell him." Liz smiled sadly, offering her thanks.
"Yeah," her cousin’s boyfriend replied simply, snapping Liz out of her trance. Her heart ached violently as she recalled the events of earlier that day. The sad look on Marc’s face as he’d left her in the airport. The way she had hurt him so much.
Maria smirked at her cousin, rolling her sparkling eyes. "Excuse Mikey, here, he doesn’t get out much."
Liz smiled warmly. At least if she had to be stuck in some foreign place, the people she would be living with weren’t going to be scary or hostile. She’d spoken to her Aunt on the phone earlier today, and she’d seemed quite pleasant and happy to accommodate Liz. Perhaps she might even grow to love the place.
That part was a little shorter than the others *winces* Sorry! I was kinda busy getting my plans for new years in order. Speaking of, HAPPY NEW YEARS! So consider this part as your treat.
Pegleg, let me say, you are too smart! No fair if you guess all my surprises...
Thank you all for your glorious feedback, I love it, it makes me want to write more and more...
|posted on 31-Dec-2001 3:30:59 PM by CanadianRoswellian|
|AWw..Thanks guys! |
Now I'm just contemplating what I want to do for the next part. I'm trying a new technique by not writing ahead, and its really hard for me, but going well. LOL.
Anyway, I'm glad everyone liked it, I can't wait until Liz meets Max either! Hopefully if I get my ass in gear they'll be a new part for tomorrow, but then again, I'm going out tonight so I don't know.
Thanks for all your feedback, you guys rock!
Michelle: hehe, I don't know what I'd do if you guessed all my story...It'd be like you were writing the story, not me!
|posted on 2-Jan-2002 9:31:08 AM by CanadianRoswellian|
|Okay bumping my own thread! Hehe...no, no just kidding--this post as relevence.|
Okay, so I'm working on the next part, but it's taking me a while. I'll try to have it down for you all by tonight, okay? Sorry that there wasn't an update last night, but I ended up going to bed really early.
Also, for any of you that read one of my other fics, I'm With The Star, the fic has been updated completely on the repost board. That includes brand new part 15! So yay, go check it out. It's pretty foofy, unlike this fic. But I am proud of it nevertheless.
So yeah, back later with a new part!
|posted on 2-Jan-2002 3:19:10 PM by CanadianRoswellian|
An upbeat song blared from the radio of the little red Jetta, it’s owner pounding her palms against the steering wheel as she drove. She sung along the words, bouncing her head back and forth to the beat. She could feel Michael’s smirk, and his eyes burning into the back of her head. In the passenger seat, her cousin was quiet, gazing out the window in a dazed state. Looking a little lost, and probably longing to be anywhere than there. Poor girl, after all, she’d just lost her parents.
Even if Liz wasn’t especially exuberant as to being there, it was quite the opposite for Maria. She was not only happy, but thrilled that her cousin was there. She knew that Liz would love Roswell, and all her friends. And she couldn’t wait to show Liz everything her town had to offer.
"Hey blondie," she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, sending unconscious shivers down her spine. Michael had a way of stimulating her like no one else. "How ‘bout you stop your caterwauling for a minute, and stick on some better tunes."
Maria glared at him through the rear-view mirror. They were always like that, exchanging banter, bickering constantly. To anyone who’d just met them they’d think that the two hated each other. But it wasn’t so—Truthfully, Maria loved Michael with all of her heart. And he….Well, he had said the words.
Michael had surprised her one day after work, sweeping her off into an unknown location, a picnic ready for the both of them when they’d arrived. It was a wonderfully tender act coming from Michael, who seemed to be both a stone wall, and immature little boy at times. She’d kissed him sweetly before they’d feasted, her eyes lighting up animatedly. She loved when he did things like this for her, however few and far between.
The food, shamelessly stolen from the Crashdown’s kitchen had been delicious, and afterwards the very full couple relaxed in silence. Maria sprawled on the grass, the warm sun sweetly kissing her face, accentuating her features. Her soft curls were fanned out below her, wildly and unkept, much like Maria, one arm propping her head up slightly. She wore a sky blue halter shirt, which had ridden up exposing the soft creamy span of her stomach.
Michael lay his head across that expanse, as she stroked his hair maternally. They’d laid in silence like this for some time. Then he’d moved his face into her stomach, leaving delicate little trails of kisses across the smooth naked skin.
Maria giggled as he kissed her, her abdomen moving up and down against his face. She’d taken his face in her hands, pulling his lips to hers, and kissing him roughly. He brought his body over hers, pulling his mouth away for a moment, and when his lips returned they’d kissed her so tenderly it was if he thought she was porcelain, breakable with the slightest touch.
"Ugh. Like Metallica is any better than " Maria groaned. "Christina can run circles around those metal heads any day," she argued.
"C’mon," he said gazing over at Liz, who was immersed in thought, her eyes almost glossed over. Then he ran his finger smoothly up and down his girlfriend’s arm. Her skin was warm, and soft, like he remembered. He could feel her response underneath his finger, goosebumps forming at his touch.
Maria shivered underneath him. Like she’d said, only Michael Guerin could have this affect on her. The stroking was a tease, to something better that would come when her cousin wasn’t a sat away from the both of them. Something that would happen in private. Her stomach turned nervously, and she glanced in the rearview mirror once again.
His eyes were smoldering, looking at her beautiful features via the mirror. He saw her flush as she gazed at him. The music wasn’t even the issue in this at all. When he was with her, he’d be perfectly content with listening to Christina Aguilera for the rest of his life. It was just mindless banter to fill the gap between the two, and lull the silence in the vehicle.
He’d stroked her cheek with his index finger, caressing the skin which had been warmed from the sun. His eyes were locked with hers, as if the two could see into each others souls. She’d pulled him closer, showing him she wasn’t going to crush, kissing him hungrily. Her tongue fought its way into his mouth, teasing and urging with his.
When they’d finished, tired and breathless, the couple returned to their former positions, relaxing under the New Mexico sun. Michael had raised his head warily, looking down at his beautiful goddess. "I love you," he’d gently breathed, his eyes emotional, the look of a man smitten with a woman.
Maria sat up quickly, a looked of surprise painted on her face. "What?" She’d asked, needing to hear it again to believe it was true. "What did you say?"
He cleared his throat. "I love you, Maria."
Maria pulled him close, tears forming in her eyes. Michael was never the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, nor the type to admit he had these kind of emotions at all. It had taken forever for the two of them to even admit to their friends that they were dating at all. Despite the sexual tension which had been accumulating since they were adolescents. "I love you too," she kissed against his cheek, then pressed her cheek against his, drinking in the scent of him.
She’d known she loved him for a long time now. Of course, because of how tempestuous Michael could be, she’d never let herself admit it anyone but Alex, who she told everything to. They’d had a long talk about the status for her and Michael’s so-called relationship, and she’d admitted to truly loving him with her whole heart and soul.
Maria settled her eyes on the road, glaring at Michael slightly. He couldn’t distract her while driving, they both knew how that turned out. Not that she really liked to remember the story. But at least he’d fixed her fender for her after that mishap.
"Hey Liz," she sang, looking at her cousin briefly. Liz looked up, focusing her eyes. She looked at Maria curiously. The drove by a large green sign with an alien painted on the front. Maria smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Welcome to Roswell."
Blah, I'm really not in an M/M mood, but I needed to get this out of the way and such for character development. Don't worry, Max and Liz will meet soon enough.
I apologize for the shortness of this part, and also the quality because I know it could have been better. But like I said, I'm a Dreamer, so I'm not really feeling the candy love.
Tell me what you think, I've started writing the new part already...Also thank you to each and every one of you whos left feedback, I must have read them each twice, got quite a large smile across my face. *blush*
|posted on 25-Jan-2002 9:24:21 PM by CanadianRoswellian|
|Well damn, I seem to have done it again! Occasionally, I'll start a story, then write a little bit of it, and then I just dissappear for a few weeks (because I'm lazy or busy), but I always come back feeling guilty and write a million parts. It's a continuous cycle of mine.|
Anyway, this would be the guilt part where I write heaps, and post it all as soon as it's written. Enjoy, because I have the week off and a computer in my bedroom
So yeah, update will come soon. I'm thinking up ideas right now.
|posted on 4-Feb-2002 10:54:23 PM by CanadianRoswellian|
|Part Four |
Her cousin’s words rang in her ears as the drove past the sign. Roswell, her new home. It didn’t look any different than Albuquerque, maybe a little smaller perhaps. As they drove into town suburban houses could be spotted left and right. Great. She was living the American dream, suburbia. Okay, maybe she was a little bitter. Maybe she was wishing that she was anywhere but there at that exact moment. Maybe she was thinking jumping out of the car and running off by herself might be a little less scary then arriving in this foreign place.
She hadn’t really paid much attention to Maria or Michael the whole car ride from the airport. She’d meant to, really, she had. Instead she’d spent it meticulously trying to remember if she’d packed everything she needed, and trying to visualize what life in Roswell might be like. All through the car ride thoughts had plundered her, pushing the practical out of the way. She hadn’t meant to think about London. She hadn’t meant to miss Vicky already, or regret what she had said to Marc. But she did, no matter what she tried, she missed them all.
Her cousin chattered away merrily, pointing out the sites, places where people she knew lived, everything. She was a regular tour guide. Roswell was rather small in size, but it seemed very plentiful in tourist traps. Everywhere you looked you’d see some sort of advertisement about aliens at the very least. Michael remained mostly silent, except for a few sounds of agreement when Maria looked back and asked something like "don’t you agree?"
She didn’t really understand the relationship between Michael and Maria. The two were polar opposites, she was bubbly and sunny and he was dark and silent. They seemed to bicker constantly, about anything and everything. But then again it’s always said that opposites do attraction, and this very well could be an example. Maybe there was something her cousin saw in this boy, something more than the rough exterior. It wasn’t that he was unattractive either. But it was almost as Michael put off an air around him saying "stay away." Maybe he’d let Maria in to experience what was inside that cautious soul. Maybe they were in love.
"This is the Crashdown," Maria cried, as they pulled up in front of a restaurant. There was a prominent sign at the front, showing an alien ship, with the title on the restaurant. "My mom bought it from the previous owners about five years ago. She runs it, and I work as a waitress. Michael here is a cook." She shut off the engine of the little car. Pulling off her seatbelt and hopping out of the car, she stretched luxuriously. "And so ends the tour of Roswell. Cozy little place, isn’t it?" She glanced at Liz for her approval.
Liz nodded, not wanting to waist the energy to argue. It wasn’t as if that would do any good. She was stuck in this place, whether she liked it or not. Of course, even with the slightest nod, Maria’s 100 watt smile grew ten times bigger. She was like a freaking sign on the Vegas strip, she was so damn bright.
Maria reached out and grabbed Liz’s hand, shooting a glance towards Michael. He nodded, knowing exactly what she wanted. Before they had left to go get Liz Maria had given him a lecture. She had sat him down, and talked to him like a kindergarten teacher. She had even made a list of guidelines for him to follow. It would have been comical if it wasn’t so damn annoying.
There was about 10 sacred rules Maria had laid out, including not mentioning death, not talking about why she was going to stay in Roswell, etc, etc. Also the whole ‘be a happy resident of New Mexico’ thing. If you consulted Michael that meant ‘be as cheesy and ditzy as possible’, and he’d told her. That had earned him a firm swat against the chest. Not that he minded, any contact with Maria was good contact in his books.
Eventually Maria had broken him, and he’d sworn on that all-holy list and a 6-pack of Snapple to obey as much as he could. Which basically meant, being half decent and carrying the luggage, which seemed reasonable to him. As long as he didn’t have to tell Liz how much fun she was going to have or something. That would be a laugh. He watched the girls push through the turquoise restaurant doors, then heaved a suitcase out of the trunk with a grunt.
Liz felt overwhelmed as she entered the Crashdown. A lump in her throat, and a churn in her stomach had accompanied her first view of the Crashdown sign outside. Her cousin must have sensed her apprehension, because she had reached out an caught a firm grasp of her hand. Liz knew she was holding on rather hard, almost for dear life, her palms sweating. It was only natural, right?
The DeLuca’s restaurant was brightly painted with that turquoise tone and an orangy-red color. It depicted scenes from the alien crash, and all sorts of other myths and legends. The booths were the same greenish blue, and Liz seemed to sense a color motif. At least the cluttered bunch all matched, which was pretty pinnacle.
Good thing the place was fairly empty, she wouldn’t be able to take all those inquisitive eyes boring into her as she walked through. There was a young man sitting at the counter with an attractive and curvy blonde, which Maria waved to momentarily, but besides that it seemed as though no one really noticed her. Thank god.
Her eyes focused at behind the counter, moving onto the form behind. It was a mousy-brown haired woman, in her late 30’s, early 40’s. And she knew this woman anyway. This was her Aunt. Amy DeLuca. Liz let go of Maria’s hand, not noticing that Maria seemed fairly relieved, and wiped the sweat -soaked palm against her blue jeans. She stood there lamely, looking at Amy in familiarity.
Amy was her fathers sister, never close. Her and her brother had just been so opposite. Amy was a wacky woman, sporadic with her way of life. She was known to do wild things, like, for example, buying this restaurant. That was a completely unexpected thing. Who would have thought her Aunt would take on a venue like that? Another surprise had been Maria.
Amy had been 18, just out of high school when she’d realized she was pregnant. Maria’s father and Amy had had a shot-gun wedding, but when the time came for Amy to give birth, he’d taken off, and hadn’t been heard from for a number of years. Apparently he was a musician, and checked in very infrequently.
"Liz!" Cried Amy, beaming. She abandoned her post at the cash register and ran up to her niece, embracing Liz warmly. "Honey," she said lovingly stroking Liz’s hair, "I am so glad to see you." She kissed her niece’s forehead. "And so sorry."
Liz nodded, nestling her face into Amy’s shoulder. She’d always liked Amy, as little as she’d known her. And right now, she needed someone comforting to hold her in their arms.
I FINALLY got inspired after tonights episode. It was so sad. Anyway, I wrote this, and I have written the part after the next part or so. This was really short, but I would love some feedback. I need it because I feel kind of un-motivated lately. I'm so sorry it took so long. Thank god I'm writing again though. LOL.
|posted on 5-Feb-2002 9:09:07 AM by CanadianRoswellian|
|Let me give you something to think about....|
Liz has met Maria, and Michael. Tess is back in England. When Liz and Max finally set eyes on each other its going to be fireworks, and both will forget pretty much everything practical. Deduct this and then you will realize who the boy and the girl at the counter are.
Hehe, thanks for the feedback! the new part will be soon, I swear! and I can't wait to show you al the Max/Liz part I wrote. Very...um...sensual?
|posted on 5-Feb-2002 11:33:33 PM by CanadianRoswellian|
|Thats right, its Alex and Is. Or is it? Muahhaha. Sorry, I know, I"m a dork.|
Anyway I am working o nthe next part right now,a nd after that the Max & Liz meeting!
|posted on 8-Feb-2002 9:38:11 PM by CanadianRoswellian|
|Soon, soon, be patient!|
I just got my beta to check out my newest parts, and offer some suggestions. My head it brewing with thoughts. I haven't really had a beta on this story because I have a spell/grammer checker program, and betas are kind of hassled. But yeah, I love Annie so I got her to read it.
She loves it, and I've got about 1-2 more parts then the M/L meeting! <3