FanFic - Max/Liz
"Flood"
Part 2
by Ash
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just borrowing them because the reunion is taking waaaaay too long and I am desperate to fix it!!
Category: Max/Liz
Rating: PG-13
Authors Note: This is spoilerish only in the minor leagues because the epi "Viva Las Vegas" takes place in Las Vegas and Tess and Liz do get into some kind of trouble at the casino. These were old spoilers and shouldn't spoil you much. Everything else is my imagination, and if it's right- it's just coincidence.
“Downpour on my soul
Splashing in the ocean,
I'm losing control
Dark sky all around
I can't feel my feet touching the ground.”

-Jars of Clay, Flood

Liz turned around, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. She had to laugh at the pouty, seductive look that had automatically attached itself to her face. Ridiculous. Of course, the dress was gorgeous. It wasn’t the one in the window, but the deep, smoky purple was definitely in Liz’s “to-wear” color scheme. She turned to the side and blanched at the expanse of uncovered skin there. The missing side panel was a whole new deal for Liz. Definitely not modest. The section from her navel around to her spine was bare, and it was cut so low that it rested just on top of her bottom. What was she thinking buying this thing? She turned to the mirror and looked deeply into her sad, desperate eyes. Oh yeah, that’s right, I’m trying NOT to think. She pushed a section of hair back behind her ear. She needed to be drunk to stop thinking. And she probably needed to be drunk to wear this dress. So that decided it. Liz walked over to the little fridge in their room and grabbed one of the wine coolers that Maria had brought from home. “Mystic Fountain- Cherry Cocktail Surprise.” She made a face at the stupid name and screwed open the top. “Bottoms up,” she said and chugged a little. It was cold going down and the up front juicy taste wasn’t so bad. But as she lowered the bottle, the aftertaste kicked in. Ugh. Her nose wrinkled. If she was going to drink this, she’d have to do it all at once. She held her nose and lifted the bottle again.

******

Max finally agreed to go back to the hotel and see the girls. He secretly wanted to see Liz’s reaction to his costume, but then again, he always wanted to see her. It was smarter and less painful to stay away, but Michael wanted to make sure Maria was doing okay and Alex said there were hot babes at the crap tables. So they went.

******

Liz was wandering around the hotel lobby, trying to have a good time being checked out by guys and looking stylish in her new dress. She was enjoying all the warm, good feelings cruising through her. How could just one wine cooler make her feel this good? She came to a dead halt. Oops. What if part of being “changed” means that I get drunk as easily as Max? She giggled. It was amazing. She still thought about Max just as much, but it didn’t hurt as bad. In fact, the way she felt, it was almost possible to believe that she could move on now. Hey, maybe one of these guys out her in Vegas was her real Prince Charming. She barked out a laugh and leaned against the wall for support. A short, balding man was headed her way. Liz braced herself for some flirting. She could do this, right? Deep breath. She needed to do this.

******

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Isabel’s eyes narrowed at Max as he walked up to her. He just smiled. This was exactly why he’d done it. He felt freer than he had in a long time. “They were out of Elvis costumes.” “Thank god,” Isabel said firmly. “So who is this,” she gestured at his costume loosely. “This is Mad Max. It‘s a little more ‘Beyond Thunderdome’ than I prefer, but it’s a nice play on words, isn‘t it?” Isabel smiled. “Mad Max. Funny. So you’re Mel Gibson, huh? What did you do to your hair?” “Just grew it out a little.” He scratched at his neck, a little embarrassed about that part. “The guys said I looked way too pre-apocalyptic with my hair the way it was.” “Pre-apocalyptic,” she said slowly. “Yeah, I could see Michael saying that. But I know my Mel and if you’re ‘Beyond Thunderdome,‘ then shouldn’t you have a flat top and this long stringy stuff on the sides of your head?” She shivered. “I still have nasty flashbacks of Mel with those beautiful baby blues and that... hair.”

Busted. “Well, yeah, but... I’d look terrible with a flat top.” Isabel smiled indulgently. “And everyone thinks I’m the vain one.” “Shut up,” Max grumbled. “So are you planning on letting Liz see you in this get-up, or do you think all that leather might just put her over the edge?” Max swallowed hard. He hadn‘t said that aloud, had he? “Uh... I don’t know. Where is she?” Her smile turned enigmatic. “She’s right in the lobby. You can’t miss her. Just look for the throng of guys with their tongues hanging out.” Max frowned, but headed in the direction Isabel pointed him in. What had Liz gotten herself into?

******

What have I gotten myself into? She had five guys surrounding her, vying for her attention and trying to bring her drinks. It made no sense. Put on a slinky dress and get bombed and the vultures come out in droves. Was she putting out some kind of desperation vibes? Did they always know when a girl was at the end of her rope? “Do you need another drink, Lizzie?” She looked over at the lawyer, Heath, and smiled in what she hoped was a non-encouraging, but nice way. He was a big, burly man with a sweet disposition and seemed to be the least predatory of the men around her. “No, thanks. I’m just fine.” Why was she talking so slowly? “Are you hungry, darlin’, ‘cause there’s a delicious steak and lobster bar in the dining area that’s so good it’ll make your teeth sweat!” Liz frowned at the tall, lanky accountant whose combover threatened to make her laugh every time she looked at him. Did he just say that it would make her teeth sweat? He must be dumber than he looked. Or drunker, maybe. Liz shifted in the tall chair and put one leg down to the ground. She saw all the men glance at the slit in her skirt, but only Stephen, the short balding tennis pro, gaped as though he’d never seen a leg before. She was trying to think of a snappy insult when a strange feeling overtook her. Her gaze wandered to the lobby entrance, searching the crowd before she even understood why. Then she saw Isabel, walking this way.

Her breath caught. She couldn’t think. Beside Isabel was a leather-clad, long-haired Max... Horror permeated her hazy mind. Future Max. He was here. Oh my god. But that’s impossible- “Lizzie, are you okay? You’re paler than my mother-in-law’s cold cream...” Everything around her faded into the background until all she could hear was her breathing- so loud in her ears. The other Future Max no longer existed, so this must be another one... Without thinking, she stood and started backing away. He hadn’t seen her yet, maybe she could get away. He looked different, but then he would because his timeline would have been different. But he must be here for the same reason- oh god, to change the future again. “No,“ she whispered. Liz turned, trembling, and pushed her way past the bodies blocking her. She looked over her shoulder and gasped. Future Max had seen her. He was heading straight for her. Panic set in, just as someone grabbed her arm. Her eyes registered a frantic Heath, but she jabbed him with her elbow and pulled away when he let her loose. She couldn’t do it again. She had to get away. And she was running down the long hallway, pushing past people, stumbling as her heels caught in the plush carpet. A wall appeared in her way and her hands slapped against it as she tried, too late, to stop. She looked behind her only to feel horror steal over her again. He was striding toward her purposefully, an intense questioning look on his face. There was no one left to keep him away, it was just them in the long hallway. “Leave me alone!” She held her hands up in front of her helplessly, as if to block him from coming farther. “I can’t do it. Just go find someone else!” He slowed and stood still, seemingly frozen by her voice. Good. She took the opportunity to run around the corner and out of his view, one hand clutching at her nauseous stomach. “LIZ!”

******

Max watched her disappear around the corner, his heart beating double-time. He’d never seen Liz like this before- so agitated and frightened. Had those men done something to her? He’d heard of men slipping drugs into girls’ drinks. And it made his blood boil when he remembered the way they had been crowding around her, practically salivating over that slip of a dress she’d had on. Which was another thing he wanted to ask her about. He set his jaw. What the hell was she doing wearing that in a place like this? He started to walk after her, and the strange feel of the costume made him stop in his tracks. He shook his head. Okay, okay, I know exactly why she wore that dress. The same reason I’m doing a very bad Mel Gibson imitation. When your life is a nightmare, why not trade it in for a fantasy whenever you can? A heavy weight settled on his shoulders, as it always did whenever Liz was involved. Some part of him just wanted to respect her wishes and leave her alone. But that desperation in her voice had elicited an equal amount of desperation in him. He had to make sure she was okay. Then he’d leave her alone- if that’s what she wanted. At least, he thought he would be able to do that... He rounded the corner and faced another long hallway. This one was completely empty. Doors led off into rooms for games and recreation, but most of them were empty at this time of night. He had to find her before someone else did. She was incredibly vulnerable right now.

******

Liz laid back against the rose-colored wall and sobbed until the pounding in her head made her stop. The pain made her more nauseous. She slowly slid to a sitting position, stretching the new dress to the limit to accommodate her curled-up body. The strappy silver heels she wore arched her feet up so that her knees hid her face. She reached out and pulled her knees in tight, making herself as small a package as possible. She’d had nightmares about this, about Future Max showing up with different horrible futures because of her actions or inactions. It paralyzed her sometimes, thinking that anything she did, any conversation she had with Max might have terrible consequences. And now, he was here. “I can’t do it again,” she whispered. “I can’t do it. How can he expect her to do it again?” Suddenly, her stomach revolted and she crawled for the commode.

******

Max could feel her presence, as he always could. He heard a commode flush nearby and nearly jumped out of his skin. Why was he so tense? Why did it feel as if everything in his life hinged on finding her right now? Relax, she’s in the bathroom. He stood around waiting for what felt like an eternity, feeling his gut churning. She wasn’t coming out. Cursing under his breath, he glanced around at the empty hallway. Then he steeled himself and pushed open the door. “Liz?” There was no answer, but he could hear a faucet running. The parlor of the bathroom was plush, with several couches and chairs, as well as a vending area. No one was there. “Liz, are you okay?” Max pushed down his natural reticence to force himself on her, and slowly walked to the room lined with stalls. The faucet had been left on, and no one was in there. He suddenly realized that there was another parlor in the back, and a door leading out to another hallway. It was just closing. “LIZ?” He ran after her.

******

This was stupid. She knew she couldn’t outrun him forever. But right now, she had to try. She ran breathlessly down the hallway, padding unsteadily in her bare feet toward the elevator. She punched the button and waited a moment, switching her high heels from one hand to the other. Her heart was pounding and she bounced nervously on her toes. She spun around as she heard the bathroom door opening. Max walked out into the hallway and her breath caught again. That leather... the long hair... She couldn’t breathe. He looked her way and started walking toward her, his face a study of grim determination. “No,” she whispered. She felt trapped, and numb, like this was some long, horrible nightmare. The elevator behind her dinged and the doors opened. Her panic drove her to step back and she frantically pushed a button, any button. The doors didn’t shut at first, and Max started to walk faster. NO! She pushed the “door close” button and held it down. Please, please... “Liz, why are you running from me? Liz, stop!” The doors closed and the last thing she saw was the look of frustration on his face. She collapsed on the floor, common sense quickly returning. This wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t just expect him to give up, not if he’d traveled this far. But if he wanted her to try to make Max follow his destiny, what else could she do? Kill herself? She dropped her high heeled shoes to the floor and rubbed her face tiredly. Whatever. It was time to stop deluding herself. She had no future with Max Evans. And whatever future she HAD had, however marginally happy, it was going to be ripped away from her this time, too.

******

Max watched the numbers stoically, seeing it stop at level five. Would she get off there, or stay on and continue up? He pressed the UP button beside the elevator, knowing that would give him the answer. After a moment, the elevator began descending again. She had gotten off. He waited with tears pooling in his eyes. She had looked so trapped- so scared- What had happened to her?

******

Liz wandered around aimlessly after getting off the elevator, waiting for the inevitable with a horrible dread. She found herself stopped by a huge, gated walkway. She could see beyond the chained and padlocked gates what looked like a miniature golf course. She shook her head. In a hotel? Why had someone gone to all that expense only to hide it away up here? She raised her eyebrows thoughtfully. Maybe that was why it was closed down, because no one had known it was up here. The entire area beyond the gates was dark and quiet, a landscape of odd shapes and stretched out shadows caused by the moonlight streaming in from the large windows. It was unearthly, like the canvas of a Salvador Dali painting. From down the hallway, a quiet ding interrupted her peaceful thoughts. She was immediately in motion, pushing the gates apart just enough to let her slide between them, catching only a few strands of hair in the process. Then she was free, running into the welcoming shadows.

******

Max was pacing down the hallway like a prowling tiger, a pair of tiny, high-heeled shoes in his hand. Liz had just dropped them in the elevator, along with her room key. What was she thinking? His Liz was always so logical, so in control. Scrap that. She used to be, until the thing with Kyle happened. Since then, every conversation with her had undertones and emotions that confused him. Why did she always look as if she had been the victim in all of this, begging him to relent and love her with those beautiful eyes of hers? It had worn him down, evaporated his anger until all he had left was a deep sadness and confusion. Then he shook his head. But this, this reaction to him, it was unreal. And the thought had struck him more than once that maybe the explanation for her uncharacteristic lying and... whatever she did with Kyle, might just lie in the explanation for her reaction to him tonight. If he could just get close enough to her, maybe he could get an answer out of her, once and for all. The partly opened gates at the deserted putt-putt course told him where she was, as well as the soft noises inside. He held his hand over the lock and sprung it open, then stepped into the darkness.

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