"Pardon me. Sorry. Excuse me," Liz whispered in her attempt to be polite as she shoved her way through the crowded airport. She had no idea which concourse Max would be at or which airline he would take. She didn't know what time his flight would leave, or if he might already be boarded on the plane. The only think Liz knew for sure was that she had to find him.

Despite the pointing and staring all around her, Liz ran through the terminal she'd randomly selected as she entered the airport gates. She relied solely on her instincts to lead her. The same instincts that told her when Max was near so many years ago. The same instinct that told her when he was in trouble. The same instinct that told her he needed her. She begged for that instinct not to fail her as she rushed through the airport looking for the one man who had such a grip on her heart.

She slowed her pace and stopped when she reached a fork. She dropped her hands to her knees and gasped for air. "Which way?! Which way?!" she silently screamed.

Liz closed her eyes and mentally asked, "Where are you, Max?"

"This way, Elizabeth," a woman's voice spoke.

Liz opened her eyes and came face-to-face with a dark-eyed child.

The smiling little girl looked amused by Liz's distraught face. She stared at Liz until her mother called again, "Let's go, Elizabeth. We've got to hurry."

Liz watched as the brown-haired girl happily skipped down the left wing to catch up with her mother. Immediately, Liz sprinted down the left wing. As she passed the little girl who walked hand-in-hand with her mother, Liz smiled knowingly at the child. "Thanks," she mouthed and continued her race to find Max.

The further Liz ran down the wing, the faster her heartbeat. Every sense was heightened and she knew she must be close. The only other times she felt that way was when she was near Max.

"Final boarding call for Flight 289 to Roswell," a lady's voice rang out through the airport.

Liz stopped still in her tracks and slowly turned her head to look at the seating area to her right. She could feel him. Her eyes looked at every face standing to board the waiting plane, but she did not see him. Still, she could feel him. She stood still watching and waiting.

Finally, as the crowd boarding the plan adjusted, Liz caught a glimpse of his right hand. She could see nothing more, but she knew it was him.

"Max!" she called and watched as he, not hearing her call, continued to board the plane. She watched as he handed his boarding pass to the attendant and moved forward. "Max!" she called again and willed her heavy feet to move. She needed to stop him. Michael, Maria and Hope needed him. She needed him.

She dashed across the seating area, never losing sight of his hand, and lunged forward to clutch his wrist. "Max!"

Max swung around in surprise. "Liz? What are you doing here?"

"Don't go," she breathed.

"Liz?" Max asked moving out of the boarding line to allow others behind him to continue boarding the plane. He immediately dropped his bag and took hold of Liz's hands. He immediately assumed something was wrong.

"I," Liz began still trying to catch her breath. "I ran," she tried to explain her condition. She finished the thought before forcing herself to move on to the more important message. "I need...Michael needs..." she gave up trying to speak and shook her head. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and retrieved a folded piece of paper. "Here," she said shoving the paper into Max's hand.

Max looked at the paper with confusion and then back at Liz who refused to lift her eyes from the paper.

"Just...read it," Liz managed to say.

Max opened the wrinkled paper and held it in his hands. He silently read the only sentence on the page. He read it again. "It was Jackson."

Max looked up at Liz with his brows communicating his confusion. "I don't understand," he spoke slowly.

"Sir," the attendant at he boarding gate spoke. "We have to close the doors, sir. You'll need to board now."

"Just a second," Max replied waving his hand towards the lady while still looking at Liz. He was searching for some answer in her face. "What about Jackson?"

"It was Jackson," Liz began as a single tear rolled down her face. Still, she kept her eyes on the paper and refused to look at Max. "It was Jackson...not you."

"Sir, we are going to close the doors," the attendant spoke louder.

"Just a minute," Max demanded. He stared at Liz trying to unearth why she would run to him just to tell him he was second to Jackson. "Liz, why are you doing this?" he asked shaking his head.

"I needed you to know," Liz spoke. "It was him that made me...hard," she said.

Liz suddenly made sense to Max. He recalled the harsh words he'd used in the letter he written her. Guilt struck him hard as he realized his words must have tormented Liz. "I'm sorry..." he began.

"Don't be," Liz spoke finally looking up at Max. "Maybe...maybe we needed this. To put it all right out on the table. Get everything in the open...to talk." Liz stared at Max hoping he would understand her jumbled thoughts. The small twinkle in his eyes told her he knew exactly what she meant. "I just wanted you to know," she continued, "that you were not the one who made me...like this. In fact, you are the only reason..." Liz stopped speaking when the gate attendant interrupted again.

"Sir, please...we have to board...now," she said touching his shoulder.

Max looked at Liz waiting for her to say it again. She needed only to tell him not to go and he would gratefully stay.

"We need you," Liz said answering Max's unspoken question.

"I'm not going," Max said without hesitation. He waved off the attendant without ever taking his eyes from Liz. He was afraid that if he looked away for even the slightest second that he might miss a vital expression.

"Turn it over," Liz said smiling. She prayed her thanks for a man like Max. A man who would take her for her word. A man who didn't value his pride over his friends. "Friends," Liz thought. "Well, at least that's something."

Max flipped the paper he held in his hand. At first glance, he saw nothing on the back side of the page. But as his eyes scanned the white notebook paper, he finally caught a glimpse of small text at the bottom, right side of the page. He lifted the paper closer to his face to read the fine print. "I do want to come home."

Max looked at Liz who smiled. "I figured if it was tiny, then I could always back out if you didn't..." Liz spoke.

"What does this mean?" Max interrupted.

"It means," Liz stumbled over her words. She moved her mouth but no sound resulted. Fear suddenly took over her senses as she may have misinterpreted Max's letter. Liz lectured herself, "It's now or never. You've known him practically forever. So, why do you have these stupid butterflies, girl? Just do it...now."

Liz smiled and laughed as she began to relax. She extended her right hand. She put on her best energetic face. "Hi. I'm Liz Parker," Liz said as Max slowly reached out to shake Liz's hand. Liz continued, "I'm from Roswell, New Mexico. I'm in L.A. visiting a friend. And I'm in the airport hoping to regain one."