Michael scrubbed at his face in irritation. They finally get surveillance equipment in the guy’s house and all he does is come home with his wife, help fix dinner and sit down to eat. Their conversation was pointless, no powers were used, nothing suspicious was said.

“Michael, that’s why it’s called covert,” Max was looking at him pointedly, as if he’d read his mind. “We want to catch them at unsuspecting moments, saying things that they wouldn’t say if they knew we were here. Something will slip eventually.”

“Right,” Michael smirked and sat back on the bed, resting against the headboard. “Well, it don’t need the four of us to catch it.”

Maria stood up and stretched beside him, and he reached out a hand to rub over her back. Without thinking, his hand slid lower and over her butt and thighs. She felt great.

“Michael,” Maria stepped closer and put her arms around his neck. “What are you thinking?” She sounded pleased, but embarrassed.

“I wasn’t,” Michael admitted. He pulled her closer and pressed his face into her flat abdomen, taking a deep breath. Feeling the pain Liz was going through in being separated from Max was... enlightening. It was like being able to experience two completely different paths at the same time. Separation from the one you love and being with them twenty-four hours a day. It hadn’t taken him long to appreciate his position. His fiancee was here, safe and within reach. Michael closed his eyes and just breathed in her sexy smell. Even if she drove him crazy, he’d never leave Maria again.

“Get a room,” he heard Max’s dry voice call over. A smile cracked Michael’s face and leaned up to look at Maria. She was shaking with laughter. This WAS a room.

Michael shook his head with a smile and climbed over the bed to the remote. Then he leaned back and gestured to Maria to join him. He’d just forget about the stupid surveillance for a while. No baseball on yet. Must be too early. He was flipping like a maniac, as Maria would say, when a picture on the t.v. caught his attention. It was Liz.

******

Alex felt like shaking Liz. She had gone so deep into guilt mode that she wasn’t even making sense. He pulled up a chair and sat beside her, taking one of her shaking hands into his own. “Okay, we get the main picture. Kyle was tortured,” Alex paused, proud but disturbed that he had gotten the word out so easily, as if Kyle hadn’t just lived out the one scenario that still made Alex quake in his nubuck loafers. He shoved on. “But what’s this about disappearing cuts...”

Liz turned wide eyes to him. “I saw... no, I felt Kyle getting cut,” she leaned down and raised Kyle’s shirt to point to his right side. “They used this machine and cut him... there. But it’s gone.”

Alex blinked. He didn’t even want to think what that meant. But Liz wasn’t continuing. She just let down Kyle‘s shirt again and sat back in her chair like a zombie. Apparently, he was the only one capable of speaking at the moment. “Okay, I’ll bite. Aren’t aliens the only ones who can heal things like that?” His voice sounded tense and high-pitched, even to himself.

Liz nodded, biting her bottom lip in what he recognized as an attempt to keep from crying. “I think so.”

Alex looked at Kyle, who was frozen and pale, obviously not up to handling this right now. And he glanced over at Joey, who was still sitting at the table, chewing on her fingernails. Then he sat back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to say the most obvious, most unpleasant thing on his mind. “Liz, you have to un-block Michael. They need to know about this-”

She was on her feet and walking away before he even finished his sentence. “No.”

“Liz-”

“No, Alex,” she turned to him with what could be called a tenuous grasp on her composure. “We are not going to tell them. They can’t come back and they can’t help. Why should we worry them over something they can’t do anything about?”

As usual, her logic was impeccable. But Alex just shook his head slightly and plowed on. “You’re just ignoring the obvious, Liz. Max would want to know and you know that. Maybe he’ll come up with something that we haven’t thought of. All I know is that if I don’t tell him now, when he does find out, I’ll get the death ray eyes from him, and face it, you’ll feel bad then, because then I’ll be dead. And do you really want that on your conscience?”

A small smile managed to pass on her face fleetingly before her tears returned. “Oh, Alex,” she sighed, sitting down in one of the dining chairs. “It’s just that I can see the whole conversation. Michael tells Max the FBI had Kyle and they tortured him to get information about the three of them. And Max- he’ll feel horrible. And he’ll think that all of us are in danger, and he’ll make them all come back.” Her eyes were pleading with him to understand. “We can’t let that happen, Alex. If the FBI are here in Roswell, then Max, Michael and Isabel don’t need to be here. And even if the Feds aren‘t here, when Max shows up and everyone wonders why he’s not dead, how long do you think it will take someone to figure out that what Larry said is true?”

Alex joined her at the table. She was right. Max could disguise himself, but how well? “It can’t happen, Alex. We’ve got to handle this on our own.”

Alex wished with everything in him that he could feel like this was a good idea. As much as he agreed with her, he felt fear stirring in his stomach. What if the FBI guys hadn’t found out what they wanted? What if they had been watching during the wedding? What if they had seen something? But surely they would have done something by now if they had.

Alex felt his brows knit up in consternation. “Okay, so what do we know for sure here? One, we know that the FBI took Kyle.”

“No,” Liz said firmly. “We don’t even know that. Let’s don’t assume anything. All we know is that someone took Kyle and-” Her face worked as she fought back the tears, but they finally took over and she bent over to hide her face in her hands.

“Oh god, Liz,” Kyle groaned from the couch. “Dammit. I shouldn’t have let you connect with me. I‘m fine.”

Alex watched Joey get up and cross to Kyle. Good. She could handle him. Alex reached over and rubbed his hand up and down Liz’s back soothingly. But his thoughts were anything but soothing.

In addition to all of this new ulcer-inducing information, they still had one more alien hunter to deal with, who would be hunting the only woman he had ever loved, Isabel Evans. And he couldn‘t do a thing about it, since she was presently co-habiting with two other aliens and his other best friend in hotel room in another state.

His thoughts drifted back to the first time he knew Isabel really cared about him, that time Tess had attacked him in his room, over two years ago now. It had scared Isabel to see him like that, beat to hell and stabbed in the side. And she had healed him without a second thought. His lips curved upward slightly, then went flat again. That time he had been the one in danger. Now, it was her.

God, he would trade places with her in an instant, if he could. He slid one shaky hand through his hair. Not that he really wanted to meet up with alien hunter number four. Oh no. Close encounters of the third alien hunter kind had been bad enough, what with the shapeshifting and power-sucking and all. But he would gladly face it again with her, just to make sure she was okay.

Of course, being with Max and Michael was the safest place for her, he reminded himself again. And it was beginning to look like Roswell wasn’t exactly neutral territory, either. Hunters two and three had shown up here, and now with this FBI thing...

Alex sighed. Liz was right. They needed to stay put. “You’re right,” he looked over at her, raising his eyebrows to emphasize his words. “We don’t tell them.”

Liz shifted and threw herself into his arms. From under the veil of hair, he heard the muffled words, “I won’t let Michael know. I promise.”

And that was supposed to be comforting?

******

The black and white images on the screen were distorted by the wide angle lens to some degree, but it was easy to see what was going on.

“Great meal, sweetheart,“ Christopher Cross said as he leaned over to kiss his wife on the cheek.

“Well,“ she said hesitantly, taking a sip of her drink and watching Christopher finish up his rice. “I was going to make a big meal, but I didn’t feel very good.“

Christopher looked up with concern, talking around his mouthful of food. “You alright, Shelley?“

She smiled genuinely. “Yes, I’m fine.“ She reached out and touched his hand sweetly.

Max couldn’t stop watching. He hadn’t known what to expect from Christopher, but this certainly wasn’t it. This was a normal, happy meal shared between a husband and a wife, and it was killing Max to watch it. He felt like he would trade his very soul for that to be him and Liz, to be safe, normal- happy together.

“Max- come here, quick,” Michael’s voice held a note of fear that Max didn’t like. He pulled his gaze away from the monitor and turned to Michael. “What is it?”

“That show, ‘Insight Nightly,’. They’re doing a thing on the wedding.”

Max moved to the other bed and sat on the edge tensely. Hadn’t everyone tired of this story yet? But this was the first story he knew of shown during primetime. He felt Isabel’s hand on his shoulder.

“Tragedy would befall the young girl her teachers hailed as Roswell’s best hope for true success in the medical arena. On the afternoon of her wedding, just moments after she began her walk down the aisle, a stalker leapt out of the crowd and pulled a gun on the bride.”

To Max’s growing horror, the wedding video was broadcast, showing the violent blow to Mr. Parker’s head and Liz’s fear as he crumpled beside her.

“Oh my god,” Isabel whispered behind him.

“How can they show this,” Maria’s voice was enraged.

But Max’s eyes were fixed on Liz, and how her eyes widened in raw terror the instant that Larry’s arm squeezed around her neck, how she dropped her bouquet to the floor and begged with her eyes for Max to help her. He’d seen bits of it played on the news before, but never this much. Blood was pounding in his veins as a myriad of emotions crowded in on him at once.

“The crowd was in a panic at the onset, as explained by Mr. Tim Deatsville, a guest of the Evans.”

The concerned face of Max’s distant cousin took the screen. Max was instantly given a focus point for his anger. How could Tim go on a show like this, talk about it like it was some stunt on the Jerry Springer show?

“Everyone panicked. No one wanted to risk getting her shot.” There was a tremor in Tim’s usually snide voice. “It was so unexpected. How could something like this happen? It just makes me angry.“ Tim’s emotion was so real that Max was taken aback. Tim went on, leaning into the reporter as if he was the one who committed the crime. “Who sold that idiot a gun? How did he get in the church so easily? Why didn’t anyone know what he was planning? Someone should have known something.”

Then Max realized it again- Tim thought he was dead. For his family, the shooting had been a real tragedy. Again, he felt for his mother, having to lie to everyone to keep his secret safe.

The dramatic voiceover continued, “Indeed, what no one knew is that Larry Trilling had an imagined vendetta against the groom, one so intense and hate-filled that it would cause him to take action on Max Evans’ wedding day.”

Then the reporter was shown on the streets of Roswell, in front of the Crashdown Cafe. “In a town like this, it’s easy to see why someone might be tempted to believe in extra-terrestrials. But no one seems to understand why such a normal guy would suddenly take it upon himself to believe a normal teenager was one of ‘THEM‘.”

“Normal guy, my ass,” Michael muttered. “But he’s right, we should’ve listened to Kyle...”

Max couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen. Larry was given a full write-up as the town‘s loveable and much-aligned alien enthusiast. Then Max was given the status of an underappreciated but very human martyr.

Finally they moved on to the shooting and the aftermath. “It was at 3:23 p.m. that paramedics pronounced Mr. Evans dead on the scene. The wedding videographer also captured that dramatic moment in its full intensity.”

The camera jerkily focused on the paramedics. Max blinked to see himself on the ground, bloody and still. Then the head medic sat back on his heels and signaled to the others. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing more we can do-”

A heart-rending wail sent chills up Max’s spine and the camera swung to show Liz collapsing in Alex’s arms. “Max,“ she screamed on and on.

Watching in the hotel room, Max suddenly couldn’t breathe. The camera zoomed in on her and there was a sudden flurry of motion as she pushed Alex away and threw herself on Max’s body, incoherent and sobbing.

Max clenched his jaw to keep from weeping, but the tears were already running down his face. “Oh god,” Maria whispered behind him. “God, that was horrible.”

“I had no idea Liz would be able to pull that off so well,” Isabel said in an amazed tone. Max whipped his head around to stare at her. “What did I say,” she said uncomfortably.

Michael answered for him. “She wasn’t acting, Iz.”

Max grimaced and wiped at his face as he was once again reminded that Michael had probably felt all of that with Liz... shared her in a way that he couldn’t.

He turned back to the t.v. and half-listened to the rest of the story. The funeral coverage peaked his interest when they interviewed the crowd exiting the service.

A tall, thin man with long hair pulled back in a ponytail was the first to be shown. He looked at the interviewer with something akin to grief. But Max had never seen the guy in his life.

“I can’t believe he’s really gone,” the man said in an English accent, looking lost in his thoughts. “Now no one will ever know what a great man he was.“ Then he seemed to come to himself and pulled away quickly.

“Max, who was that,” Maria asked in a low tone.

Max just shook his head. The image of Liz, throwing herself on his dead body just refused to go away. It kept reappearing in his mind, over and over... her small frame racked with sobs, blood smeared on her white gown, screaming at anyone who tried to pull her away.

******

Liz was in her nightgown and robe, brushing her hair as she did every night when Mrs. Evans’ voice pulled her from her thoughts. She was startled, but glad for the interruption. Her thoughts were consumed with Kyle’s abduction and torture, and how to keep everyone safe without Max and Michael here.

“Liz, honey, did you hear me? It’s... well, the telephone is for you, sweetheart.”

The little squeeze she gave Liz on the arm as she looked at her in the mirror made Liz’s heart jump. Was it Max? They had agreed not to call, but maybe something had happened... maybe something bad...

She quickened her steps and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?”

“Liz, babe, it’s me,” Maria’s voice brought an instant smile to Liz’s lips.

“Hey, it‘s good to hear your voice! Is everything okay,” Liz asked with only a hint of worry.

“Yeah, everything’s hunky-dorey, except for Max,” Maria’s voice clouded over a bit. “You’ve got to talk to him, Liz. He’s a mess. Did you know ‘Insight Nightly’ was doing a story on the wedding?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Liz breathed out. “I forgot it was tonight. Did Max...”

“I’m afraid so,” Maria was shaking her head; Liz just knew it. “They showed everything, the shooting, the fire... even when the paramedics pronounced him dead.”

A cold chill came over Liz’s body. “Oh, god. I didn’t want him to see that.”

“He really needs to talk to you, like now. Are you up to it?”

“Of course,” Liz said automatically. “Put him on.”

“Okay, but just... be upbeat, okay?”

“Okay.“ She would be whatever Max needed right now.

There was a fumbling and clicking as the phone changed hands.

“Liz, sweetness...”

Liz closed her eyes at the sound of his voice. It felt like it had been forever. “Max, oh I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too. More than I can say.” Max’s voice was soft and his breathing told her that he was forcing back emotion.

“Are you okay?“ The silence grew and Liz let her head fall to the side as she waited. “Max, what is it?”

“I saw- you-”

Liz nodded as he finally got some words out, as if it would help him along somehow. He only managed two more words.

“You were-”

Then she just jumped in. “Max, that was almost a week ago, okay? I’m fine now. Really. You don’t have to be worried.”

“You were screaming, Liz,” his voice was hoarse with pain.

“I know, but you’re alive and I‘m fine now,” she just couldn’t find the right words to say to him.

“But for how long,” he choked out.

Liz paused, then sat straight up in her chair. “What do you mean, Max?”

“I don’t want to say this, but I have to, Liz,” he rushed on, as if getting the words out fast made it easier. “If you- if all of this has made you change your mind, if you don’t want to-”

Liz interrupted in a brittle voice, “Max- stop it.”

But he didn‘t. “I’m- I’m dead, to almost everyone we know.” Liz nodded, tears springing in her eyes at the reminder. “And I don’t know what kind of life I can offer you now. Certainly not the kind you had planned out for yourself. On the run, hiding for the rest of your life because of me,” Max’s voice trailed off uncertainly. “I would understand if you- didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

Liz felt her chest get tight. “I can’t-” she gasped out. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

“I had to, Liz,“ Max said in a miserable voice.

The pain in her chest was getting unbearable, but she forced herself to ask the question haunting her. “Don‘t you want to come back for me?”

“Of course I do. How can you ask me that,” his voice was ragged.

“Max,” she heard Michael’s sharp voice in the background. “Shut the hell up! You’re just making it worse.”

And he was right, the pain wasn’t going away, it was sitting on her chest like a stone lion, compressing her lungs until she could barely breathe.

At some point, she must have unblocked Michael, because she could hear his thoughts clearly. *You’re having an asthma attack, Liz. Get your inhaler.*

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Max was saying. “Of course I want to come back for you. I love you. It’s killing me to be away from you-”

But she couldn‘t say a word. She couldn’t breathe.

This one came on so fast. She dropped the receiver and grabbed for the inhaler. She fit it into her mouth and puffed on it once.

“Sweetness, are you still there,“ Max’s voice was starting to sound frantic. “Can you breathe?”

*Liz! Did you get it?*

Yes, I’m just... breathing...

*I’m going to kick the living-*

Michael! I’m okay. Calm down.

God, she had to get better at this. That feeling was still so strange to her...

She reached over and picked up the receiver again. She could hear Max shouting her name.

“Max,” she said hesitantly.

“Liz, are you okay? I‘m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don‘t want anything else in this world but to be with you.” His words tumbled over each other.

She clutched the receiver like a lifeline and closed her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I promise. I just forgot to use my inhaler, that’s all.”

“Liz,” Max’s voice was tentative. “It’s my fault. Forgive me for being so-”

“Stop it,“ Liz said softly. “There’s nothing to forgive. I love you. And I know exactly why you asked that, because I feel the same way sometimes. Sometimes I can’t believe that you love me the way you do. I feel completely unworthy of it.“

*You. Block. Before I O.D. on sap.*

Liz shook her head at Michael‘s request, but did as he wished. Max was silent for a moment.

“Yeah, I guess that’s what it is,” Max agreed with what Liz knew was the glimmer of a smile in his voice. “I never thought anyone would- could love me. And after everything you’ve been put through, I’m the one who’s completely unworthy. Anyone else would’ve given up on me by now.”

“Well, then I guess I’m not ‘anyone else.’,” Liz said teasingly, trying to keep Max‘s mind off of his worries. “And come hell or high water, I am going to want to be with you, no matter what they throw at us.”

Liz felt the new knowledge about Kyle niggle into her mind, but she forced herself to stay quiet. Max needed to stay safe. Without Max, there would be no life for her.

“I am coming for you, sweetness. I promise,” Max whispered. “Can you last two more weeks?”

“Two weeks? What happened to three?”

“I can’t make it three weeks,” his voice was fervent, intense. “And once I have you in my arms again, it will take more than hell or high water to get us apart again. You‘ll be mine, for good.”

Liz smiled with tears in her eyes. It was going to happen. They were going to be together again. “Don’t you know that I’m already yours,” she whispered softly, running a finger over the soft silk robe covering her body.

“You are?”

“And I have proof. I’m wearing the robe you gave me, the one that protects me and keeps me warm when you‘re not here.“

“You must look beautiful,“ he whispered.

Liz giggled. “Um... actually, no, I have no make-up on and I’m just- getting ready for bed.”

“Then you must look really... sexy.”

Liz shivered at the husky tone in his voice. She took a deep breath. “Two weeks, huh?”

“Two weeks,” Max whispered.

The silence was heavy with desire and unspoken words. Liz reluctantly broke it as the reason for his call once again came to mind. “Well, until then, no more sensationalistic news stories for you. If you want to know how I am, you call and ask me, right?”

“Right,” Max agreed.

She smiled then, and they spent almost a whole, blessed hour catching up.