Fanfic - Crossover Stories
"Distant Connections"
Part 2
by Irene
Disclaimer: Roswell, the characters, and the situations are owned by Regency Television and 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended.
Summary: This is in response to crossover challenge issued by Carol on the RoswellDreamGirl list. Being a fan of both, I couldn't pass it up. . . Disclaimer: the usual; I bow down to the great and powerful Katim's and company, by whose good graces I mangle these characters. . .
Category: Crossover Stories
Rating: PG
Once the luggage was retrieved and the rental was car picked up, (a Jeep Cherokee-how yummy . . NOT!), Clark's rumbling stomach-the man was always hungry-had them searching for a breakfast spot rather than locating the hotel. Which was fine with Lois. Anything called the "Tumbleweed Motor Court" could only benefit from an after-dark arrival. Or at least, an 'after-a-full-stomach' arrival, which was probably the best she could hope for.

As they turned into the tiny town, Lois felt her nose wrinkling at the shop windows with swinging signs that advertised such wonders as "Wash and Set - $10," "Logan Hardware-Power Tools R US!," and her favorite, the lovely and sanitary-looking "Cheese Factory Outlet Store."

She was about to close her eyes and let her husband pick the eatery when something truly ghastly caught her eye. Protruding from the front of a brick store front was a tacky metal "flying saucer", adorned with animated neon lights proclaiming the establishment to be the "Crashdown Café."

"Oh, goody," Lois mumbled aloud. "I was so afraid there wouldn't be any really good tacky alien tourist attractions here. . ."

"What was that, hon?" Clark asked, hands on the steering wheel. Looking over at her brought his gaze to said tacky alien tourist attraction diner. "Oh, hey!" he said with characteristic glee. "Let's eat there. It looks like fun."

"Fun?" she began, voice rising. But then she got a look at the boyish joy on his sweet face and she didn't have the heart, or the energy, to explain the real definition of "fun" to him. Swallowing her annoyance (maybe she just needed some good sleep?), she managed a nod and a good wifely smile. "The crash place it is, then."

They entered the "café" and were instantly assaulted with every form of alien memorabilia imaginable, from inflated green alien heads to newspaper clippings and photos of alleged sightings. Lois stifled a groan. At least the place was clean. And empty.

The kitchen was manned by a rather large young brute in a paper hat, seemingly swearing at the grill he stood before. "Man, I hate this job!" he muttered, flipping sausage patties and bacon strips. "Who's idea was it that I open today, anyway?"

"I believe it was your's, Einstein!" answered a smooth, slightly muffled, female voice. Clearly, not the grill. "Prom time is almost

here. You need money for your tux rental."

"Not if I don't go," Einstein said snidely with a glance to his right.

"We're not having this discussion again, Michael. You said we were going and we're going. End of story!" Just then the swinging door beside the counter slammed open and a tiny waitress dressed in a charming mint green uniform and perfectly spiraled strawberry blond hair burst out. "Try to back out again and I'm calling the limo company to reserve the stretch! Come to think of it, I don't want to show up at my senior prom in a banged-up, rusted Jetta! You better open tomorrow, too!"

"Maria!" the beleaguered boyfriend moaned from his grill, but Lois could see the tiny grin he hid from the girl and it was clear to her this Maria could have anything she wanted. Lois found it hard not to smile at their histrionics, remembering that she and Clark hadn't exactly started out as cooing love-birds either.

Clark had just found the "Please Seat Yourself" sign and was motioning her over to a booth. She slid in just as Waitress Maria, alien-head apron in place, arrived to give them menus.

"Morning, folks," she said, setting coffee cups before them. "Shall I?" She motioned to the empty cups.

Maria had an easy, friendly manner to her and through the early morning fatigue, Lois could see her humor showing through.

"Yes," she smiled genuinely. "Please."

Maria smiled in return, filled their cups and left them to look over the menu.

A moment later and a jangling bell on the front door heralded the arrival of a breathless, and somewhat anxious-looking, young brunette.

Maria looked up from the counter, clearly surprised at the girl's appearance. "Liz?" She glanced to the back, then to the front door again, confused. "What did you- Did you get up early or something?" A pause and the "light" went on. "Waaaait a minute! Isn't that the sweater you were wearing last night?"

The girl seemed nervous, but was clearly . . . glowing. A giddy grin broke out across her face.

From her seat, Lois hid her smirk behind the menu. Small town girls never change, do they? For that matter, neither do city girls.

"It's not what you think, Maria!" Liz began, shaking her head. "Well, it is, but . . . but it's not."

"Sweetie, you're making less sense than usual. . ."

"Look, I'll explain everything later, but right now, I need your help! If my mom asks, I signed up for this extra shift a week ago, OK?"

Maria fixed her with a steady gaze, one eyebrow arched. "Didn't think you'd make it up the fire escape without waking her, huh?"

"I swear, sometimes I think she sleeps outside my door. . ."

As if on cue, a smooth, mature, motherly voice rang out from the back. "Michael! Did you get the sauce for the breakfast special ready yet?"

As the cook called back his reply, Maria rushed Liz into the restroom. "Wait in here! I'll get you your uniform when I can."

"Thanks, Maria! I don't know what I'd do-"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, waving her away. "You couldn't live without me. No one can live without me." A smirk. "And I expect full disclosure by second period, ya got it?"

The restroom door closed, just as the swinging door from the kitchen opened and a tall, pale red-head strode through. A somehow familiar tall, pale red-head.

"Maria," said the woman. "Can you handle the morning rush by yourself?"

"Don't have to Mrs. Parker," she said easily. "Liz signed up for an extra shift last week."

Mrs. Parker. . .? Did she know any Parkers?

The woman seemed surprised by Maria's statement. "Oh, did she?"

Maria was nodding. "I don't know if she wrote it down on the schedule, but she told me she was coming in. Something about needing money for a . . . a prom dress."

Mrs. Parker paused and then smiled. "She and Max got back together? Well, good. . . She's been miserable for months." Looking around the café and not seeing her daughter, the woman turned back to Maria. "So, where is she?"

Maria seemed taken aback for a second, but quickly recovered. "Her stomach was bothering her. She's. . ." She nodded to the closed restroom door.

The woman didn't seem surprised. "She's so sensitive. Happens all the time. The Pepto is in the first-aid box in the back. Make sure she takes some when she gets out, OK? I'll be upstairs if you need me."

Wait. . . Didn't her mom's cousin Nancy marry a Parker? She hadn't seen her since they were young, but Lois seemed to remember that she was a red-head.

Finding her voice, Lois stood from the table before the woman could leave.

"Nancy?" Mrs. Parker turned around, taking a couple steps towards her. "It's Lois. Lois Lane."

Recognition dawned slowly. "Lois?" Nancy said finally, before her in two strides. A moment's hesitation and they were hugging each other warmly. "I haven't seen you since . . . since the day you got your braces off! What brings you to Roswell?"

"Ah, that would be my husband," Lois said with a smirk. "Nancy, Clark. Clark, Nancy. . . . Clark is here to cover a story for the Daily Planet."

"A reporter, eh?"

Shaking her hand and smiling that beautific Clark Kent smile, he nodded to his wife. "We both are."

Over Nancy's shoulder, Lois saw the restroom door open a crack and a pair of worried-looking eyes peep through.

"Nancy," Lois said quickly. "I'd love to meet that husband of yours. Is he awake yet?" The door slipped quickly closed.

"Jeff? Oh, sure." She motioned them towards the back. "Come on up. I'll make you breakfast myself."

As they followed her cousin, Lois clearly saw Maria mouth the words, "thank you!" in her direction. Lois nodded and smiled back. Maria wasn't the only one that was going to be needing "full disclosure" later on. . .

* * * *

Breakfast eaten, family histories caught up, Lois and Clark were comfortably settled, not at the Tumbleweed Motor Court, but in the Parker's spare bedroom. Lois had tried to resist, but Nancy had insisted and as she relaxed against the soft, chenille spread, she was glad of it. Nancy was the earth-mother type, ready and willing to fuss over them, but just as ready to give them their space. The room was comfortable and light and thankfully free of clichéd desert motifs. Nope, nary a tumbleweed in sight. Desert duds unpacked and his itinerary for the day nailed down, Clark was showering for his first trek out. Lois had begged off to get some sleep and her husband, knowing, she was sure, how much more supportive she would be with a few more hours pillow time, had relented. She very much needed to rest.

Something she'd happily be doing right now, if she weren't somehow hearing the deep convo between Nancy's wayward daughter, Liz and her sassy friend, Maria, courtesy of the opened window and a mischievous breeze. . .

". . . so then you didn't sleep with him?" Lois could hear the disbelief in Maria's voice, even at this distance.

"Well, yes, I did. . . . I mean, we slept." A pause, presumably while Maria raised an eyebrow or two. "We just slept. After we talked. For hours." Pause. "Hand me my deodorant, will you?"

"Waaait a minute, here! You don't get to get ready for school until you really talk to me." Maria said, voice rising. "You expect me to believe that you finally get that boyfriend of yours right where you want him, after months and months of pining away over him, after almost doing the deed last spring, and you still didn't . . . you know. . ."

"Yes! That's exactly what I expect you to believe!" sailed back Liz's voice, clearly indignant. "After all we've been through, there was so much to talk about, so much to explain."

"Ooooh, right. That whole Future Max thing."

Lois picked her head up off the pillow. That whole Future Max thing?

"I mean, there are things we have to work out . . . you know, with Tess. I think . . . I think it's gonna be OK, though."

"Yeah, you think so?"

A pause, maybe while Liz nodded in response. "I think Future Max was right. Not the part about Max and Tess having to be together, but the part about how he needed to treat Tess better or she'd eventually leave."

"Oh, boo-hoo. . ."

"C'mon, Maria. Look at it from her point of view." Liz's voice was muffled, as though she were pulling a sweater over her head as she spoke. "With Nasedo dead, she had no one but them, and they didn't want to have anything to do with her. Until Future Max showed up, the only thing Max had done right by Tess was to ask Sheriff Valenti to let her stay with them. For the first time in her life, she sort of has a home. . ."

"Again-you're making me cry, Liz."

"Stay with me here, Maria, OK?" Pause. Lois could picture the petite blond giving in with a nod. "So now Tess feels like she's a part of things and. . ."

". . .and?"

"And it looks like she and Kyle might actually have something going on. She's got a role in the group and maybe a little respect, a place to stay where someone clearly worries if she's missing-"

"To, say, Vegas?"

"And a guy to focus her attention on who isn't Max." The relief in Liz's voice was obvious here.

A rival, huh?

"So. . . You think she'll stick around for 14 years?"

"Until the invasion?" Liz paused, perhaps to consider this.

"Yeah, until the Skins reach earth in . . . what was it? 2014?"

Hold on a minute! What were these two girls talking about?

"Well, now that Max knows a little bit more about what the Granolith can do, he and I are going to go up there after school today and see if we can . . . . I don't know, get it to do something. . ."

"Maybe Max can work a little of his alien voo-doo on it." Maria sounded amused.

Lois wasn't. Alien voo-doo? Had these girls let living in Roswell go to their heads? A healthy imagination was one thing, but. . .

Maria continued. "Well, he did heal you and Kyle. Oh and my own spaceboy, just a couple months ago. Maybe he can heal the Granolith, too." Maria giggled.

"Thanks for the comic relief, Maria, but I was thinking more along the lines of bringing in the orbs and seeing what they might be able to stir up."

"Oooooh. And ever since we found out last fall that you've now got some alien powers of your own, you can help!"


Alien powers?

OK, the Man of Steel had alien powers. But these kids? Maybe. . . maybe there really were aliens in Roswell.

What were they thinking, talking so loud? Not even being careful about who heard them. . .

Lois considered her next move carefully for a full minute and then, still hearing the girls chatting through the window, she got up, parted the curtains and leaned out.

"Oh, Liz?" she called, as gently as she could.

There was a sudden, weighty pause from the other room.

"I think you and I need to talk. . ."

Part 1 | Index | Part 3
Max/Liz | Michael/Maria | Alex/Isabel | UC Couples | Valenti | Other | Poetry | Crossovers | AfterHours
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