Fanfic - Crossover Stories
"Distant Connections"
Part 4
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
By the time they'd made plans to meet after school, they were truly late. Liz's cousin Lois shepherded them into the principal's office where her husband, Clark, flashed his press pass and spun a story about how he'd stopped the teens on the street to get some "candid" interviews for the article he was writing and hadn't realized how late it was. Mr. Forrester eyed the man a second longer than made Max comfortable, but in the end, he seemed to buy it.

Outside the principal's office they said some quick goodbyes, Clark asked a few questions about the map Max had drawn to get them to Buckley Point for their meeting later that day, and then he and the beautiful, brown-haired woman Max had seen when he and Clark had connected, left the school.

Max stared off after the man in wonder, almost unwilling to let him out of his sight. The images he'd gotten from him. . . . He couldn't explain any of it. There were no words. But how it felt. . . . That was different. And what it could mean? Wow. . . .

Inside, Max's heart was still beating a mile a minute and his brain had done at least two somersaults in his head since they'd first met Clark, but outside, he was trying to keep a tight lid on what he was showing. He knew it would scare Liz to see him that kind of confused and that particular kind of excited.

He felt a soft hand slip into his own and give it a squeeze. "Max?" Liz said, standing so close he could smell her freshly washed hair. "You OK?" Absently, he nodded, just breathing in the scent, until he felt a gentle tug on his arm. "Hel-looo. . . ? Max, we have to get going. We are so late. . ."

Finally, he tore himself away from the open doorway. The Cherokee had long since disappeared.

"Liz, I. . ." He shook his head softly. He just couldn't seem to organize his thoughts. And the last place he wanted to be right now was here in school. Not when he was on the verge of . . . knowing. "It's just that. . ."

"What is it, Max?" There was concern in Liz's deep brown eyes.

Some of what he was feeling had clearly slipped onto his face. Then again, Liz could read the things he didn't show. And he loved her for it.

Taking a deep breath, Max gathered her into his arms and held her very close, feeling her heart beat wildly against him. He knew he was scaring her and sorry for it, he smoothed his hands over her back and kissed her sweetly on the forehead. It was his silent 'I love you' kiss and its meaning was not lost on her.

"I love you, too," she whispered back.

Still holding her hands, he took a step back. "Liz, I think I . . . know that man. . ." he said, boiling it down to the most salient point

Liz seemed to chew on that for a second. "Y-you don't mean because you've seen him around before, either, do you?"

Max shook his head, his mind reeling from the implications. "I mean I think I know him . . . from before. . ."

* * * *

Lois stopped the car next to a public recreation area; lots of handball courts and basketball hoops, mostly empty-with school in session. A few moms and toddlers were gathered in the sandbox/jungle gym/swing area, but the place was mostly deserted. Which was what she was going for. There'd be no 'alone' back at her cousin's place and alone was something they very much needed to be right now.

They needed to talk. Now.

Clark hadn't even flinched when she'd jumped into the driver's seat. Usually he liked to be in control. Easier for him to protect her if he was behind the wheel. Her man. . . . Yet there he sat, staring distractedly out the window at the passing small-town American homes, practically vibrating with energy. He was excited. And confused.

And, it would seem, very, very happy.

Oh, and completely and utterly beautiful, too. She loved when he got all flushed like that, the color rising to his cheeks, the excitement leaking out his eyes and fingers and toes. Had the circumstances been different, she no doubt would have let him know just how much she loved it. . .

But something big and momentous had clearly happened between Clark and the alien boy, Max Evans. The conversation on the way to the school was maddeningly sparse on details. At least, sparing of the revelatory kind. They talked about meeting when school was out, and where. They spoke of keeping silent about what they'd just learned, though they wouldn't say what that was. And then they'd talked about basketball, for pity's sake! Men could be so maddening. . . . She'd tried to ask Clark what had happened, but he'd suggested the car might be bugged. She'd rolled her eyes. And then Liz and Maria had attempted to get Max to talk, and he'd silenced them with a slight, but powerful, head shake, clearly accustomed to being in control himself.

Come to think of it, for an 18 year old, he carried himself as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders. Living with Clark, it was something she was very familiar with. . .

She was brimming with questions about Max, though. Clark's meeting with him had obviously affected him very profoundly, far more profoundly than it would have if Max were just another alien. Clark had met other aliens before. Some were good. Some were not. He'd dealt with each in turn, but none of them with the level of excitement he seemed to be experiencing now. Why?

She turned to her husband, trying to keep her impatience in check, fully expecting to fail at it. . .

"OK, Clark. Spill. What's the deal with the kid?" Clark still had his gaze fixed out the window, but now he was idly drumming his fingers against the door. "Hello? Clark, I already know he's an alien, so what else could there be here? He's clearly one of the "good" kind, and, judging from my young cousin, very friendly." No reaction from her husband. "Clark!" She grabbed his arm. "Clark, talk to me! What is it?"

As if coming out of a reverie, Clark stirred at the window and finally turned to her. "What was that, Lois?"

Lois bit her tongue to keep from screaming. "What has got you, if you'll pardon the expression, so spaced out? What did you find out about this boy?"

Clark hesitated for a moment and it was then that she noticed the tears in his eyes and knew that the reason for his flushed cheeks wasn't just excitement, it was deep emotion and . . . and was that relief there?

"I'm sorry, Lois. Sorry I haven't been talking to you about this. I just . . . I just don't know what to think. That boy. . ." He broke off again, shaking his head and almost laughing. "That boy is my . . . my brother. . ."


Now Lois didn't know what to say. . .

A weak "h-how is that possible?" was all she could manage.

Clark just shook his head, clearly as incredulous as she was. "I don't know. I just know that's it's true. . ."

Part 3 | Index | Part 5
Max/Liz | Michael/Maria | Alex/Isabel | UC Couples | Valenti | Other | Poetry | Crossovers | AfterHours
Crashdown is maintained by and . Design by Goldenboy.
Copyright © 1999-2004 Web Media Entertainment.
No infringement intended.