FanFic - Max/Liz
"The Liz Capades"
Part 6
by Miranda
Disclaimer: I do not own.
Summary: A look at the dating prowess of Liz Parker, post-Balance.
Category: Max/Liz
Rating: PG-13
Liz walked into the restaurant at 2:25 and looked around. Maria wasn’t in the lobby, but Liz wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t seen the Jetta in the parking lot. Liz settled herself on a bench and hoped that Maria wouldn’t be as late for their lunch date as she normally was for school, work, the movies…. Liz sighed and looked around for a basket of fortune cookies or mints to tide her over.

Max parked the jeep and stared at the building in front of him. The last time he had been here was with Liz on their one and only date. He didn’t know why Isabel had insisted on coming here. Probably just wanted to rub a little more salt in his wounds. Like watching Liz date every man in a three-county area wasn’t enough.

Max approached the counter and the hostess standing behind it. “Hi, I’m supposed to meet my sister here. She’s my age, blonde hair past her shoulders. Do you know if she’s arrived yet?”

“I don’t remember seeing anyone like that. Did you make a reservation? I can check the book and see if she’s arrived or at least show you to your table.”

“A reservation? No, I don’t think she made one. Do we need one for this time of day?”

“Let me just check. The name?”


The woman smiled at him. “You’re Mr. Evans? We have your table all ready. But I don’t think your other party…” she lowered her eyes to her book again, “… Ms. Parker… has arrived yet.”

Liz emerged from the ladies’ room in time to hear her name. She turned, expecting to see Maria, and stopped short at the sight of the man with dark hair and broad shoulders standing with his back to her.

Max froze when the woman said ‘Parker’. He cleared his throat. “Uh… I think there’s been a mistake.”


Max’s head shot up at the familiar voice. He turned and swallowed hard at the sight of her. Liz was wearing jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, her hair was carelessly held back with a headband and her face looked haggard and tired. Max had never seen anything so beautiful.

“Hey, Liz.”

They stood for a moment, staring at each other in silence. Their eyes traveled over each other, soaking up every detail to reflect upon later when they were alone again.

“Your table is ready.”

Max turned to the woman. “I’m sorry. As I was saying, there’s been a mistake. I’m supposed to meet my sister. Her name is Isabel Evans?”

“And I’m waiting for Maria – DeLuca,” Liz finished when the woman looked at her questioningly.

She shook her head. “According to my book, Isabel Evans made a reservation for two for Max Evans,” she nodded at Max, “and Liz Parker,” she looked at Liz. “If you’re ready, I can seat you now.” She picked up two menus and motioned to the dining room.


“Well?” Maria peered over Isabel’s shoulder, squinting as she tried to see what was going on in the restaurant.

“Hang on, hang on,” Isabel adjusted the focus on the binoculars, never taking her eyes off the couple in the restaurant. “They’re looking at each other… still looking at each other….”

“Glad to see some things haven’t changed,” Maria muttered.

“Ooh, good,” Isabel squealed. “They’re going to their table.”

Maria heaved a sigh of relief as Isabel lowered the binoculars and sat back in her seat. The two girls looked at each other for a moment, then high-fived.


Liz followed the hostess through the dining room. She could hear Max’s footsteps behind her. She imagined she could feel his breath weaving through her hair, tickling her neck, as his lips brushed against her skin. Don’t do this to yourself, she thought, shaking her head.

The hostess led them to a corner and stepped behind a tall screen. Liz peered around the corner and gasped. She looked back at Max, who gave her a puzzled expression, and stepped behind the screen.

The table was nestled in the corner; one chair pulled up to the side and the other on the end so they were close to one another. A white lace tablecloth hung to the top of the seats. White tapers burned in silver holders and a basket overflowed with white flowers.

“Wow,” Max whispered behind her.

Liz turned to him. “Isabel and Maria?”

“That would be my guess.”

“Someone will be right over to take your orders,” the woman announced and disappeared around the screen.

Max inhaled deeply and let it out in a rush. He pulled out one of the chairs and looked at Liz. “Shall we?”

She shrugged. “Might as well. I’m starving.” She shivered as Max’s fingers brushed against the back of her sweatshirt as he guided her chair under the table.


“I’m curious, Isabel. You never finished telling me about this date you set up between Liz and Jack. What did you tell him to do to ruin the date?”

“I didn’t *tell* him to do anything, just offered a few suggestions,” she smiled lightly.

“Fine, what did you suggest?”

“Necrophilia,” Isabel stated matter-of-factly.


Isabel turned to Maria, raising her eyebrows at Maria’s ignorance. “Sex with dead people?”

Maria’s jaw dropped, her eyes widened in shock and then almost immediately narrowed as her face twisted in disgust. “Eeewww. He made Liz think he actually wanted to….” Maria’s hands flailed the air as she struggled with the words.

“…have sex with dead people,” Isabel finished for her. “He would be known as a necrophiliac. And, it worked, didn’t it? Would you ever date a guy who wanted to hang out in funeral homes and listened for traffic accidents on his own police scanner?”

Maria leaned her head against the passenger window. “I’m too young to hear things like this. In fact, I could go my whole life without hearing things like this.”

“Oh, grow up,” Isabel waved one hand dismissively as she took one last look at the restaurant. “It looks like our work here is done. Did you want a lift home?”

Maria sighed as she shook her head. “No, my mom is ‘entertaining’ the sheriff. It’s bad enough knowing about it; I can definitely do without the visuals. You can just drop me off at the café, thanks.”

“You want to come to my house? We can watch a movie.”

“Your house?” Maria wasn’t sure she had heard correctly.

Isabel rolled her eyes. “Yes, my house. We’ve come this far together… I’ll even answer a few questions about Michael. Just a few,” she warned as Maria’s mouth started to open.

Maria grinned. “Okay. It sounds like a good time.” She watched Isabel’s face as she started the car. “So,” she gestured to the restaurant. “Why? I mean, what made you change your mind about Max and Liz?”

Isabel shrugged as she guided the car onto the street. “Everyone deserves to be happy.”

Maria nodded, a small smile playing at her lips.


Liz smiled down at the steaming plate of rice and shrimp in front of her. “I’ll take Chinese over Italian anytime. How about you?”

Max ignored the food in front of him. “I agree,” he said, smiling as she stabbed a shrimp with an almost alarming ferocity.

Liz eyed him as she chewed. She dropped her gaze back to her plate as she swallowed. “Max,” she began, then faltered and went back to pushing the food around on her plate.

“Liz, what is it?”

She forced herself to look at him. “It’s just… well, we don’t have to do this. I mean, I know none of this was your idea and I have no idea why Isabel and Maria took this upon themselves though I certainly intend to find out but you don’t have to stay.” Liz took a deep breath and shoved a forkful of rice in her mouth.

“Do you want me to go?”

“I didn’t say that.” She rested her forehead on her hand. “God, why are you making this so hard?”

“How am I making this hard?” Max asked, bewildered.

“Because, you’re just looking at me with that blank expression and I don’t know how you feel or what you want—” She paused, keeping her eyes glued to her plate. “Except, I do know what you want, don’t I? Nothing’s changed. I’m sorry, Max, but I can’t do this,” Liz started to push her chair back from the table.

“Wait,” Max grabbed her arm. “I think we should talk about this.”

But Liz didn’t hear him. She froze, halfway out of her chair, staring at the basket of flowers. White roses and calla lilies.


She sank back into her chair and reached one shaking hand toward the card that lay on the blossoms.

Max watched her with growing trepidation as he released her arm and then followed her line of vision.

~ Remember, life is short. Be happy. Love, Jack ~

Liz’s eyes went from the card to the flowers and back again. “I think I’m going to faint,” she whispered.

Max sprang from his chair and looped an arm around her shoulders. “Stick your head between your knees and take deep breaths.”

Liz automatically followed his instructions. She went on autopilot as her mind whirled, filled with images of her body lying on a table, white flowers falling out of nowhere, covering her, burying her. She bent over, eyes wide open, staring at the floor. “On second thought, I think I’m going to be sick.” Max’s shoes quickly inched back out of her vision at her words.

“Aaugh!” Liz screamed and jerked backwards. She heard something crash into the screen behind her and Max swear. “What was that?” She cried between her clenched teeth.

“It was your water glass. I thought the feel of an icy glass on your neck might make you feel better. Obviously I was wrong.”

“No, actually it shocked me right out of feeling sick.”

Max pulled his chair away from the table and sat down facing her. “Do you want to tell me what’s on that card that scared you so bad?”

Liz blushed, suddenly feeling very stupid. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I freaked out like that. Well, actually I do, but…. The flowers are from the guy I went out with last night.”

Max paled and sat back in his chair. “Oh, I see.”

“No,” Liz shook her head in exasperation, “you don’t see. The guy is really scary.”

Max instantly became alert. “Did he do something to you? Did he threaten you?” He grabbed the card from her hand and studied it.

“No, not in any direct way. He was just… very creepy. I think he was a necrophiliac.” Max’s head shot up in surprise. “Or, at least, he was pretty obsessed with death,” Liz amended, uncomfortable with the way he was staring at her. “Anyway, I want nothing more to do with Jack Carson, believe me.”

“Jack Carson?” Max repeated, his eyes glued on hers. “Senior at McKinley High, about 6’2” with sandy hair?”

“And green eyes,” Liz breathed.

“I can’t say as I’ve ever noticed the color of his eyes.” Max dropped the card on the table and did his best to fight the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “He’s my cousin.”

“He’s what?” Liz nearly roared. “You mean…” she sputtered, not sure if she should laugh or be angry.

The sight of Liz’s self-righteous anger did Max in and he broke down in laughter. “I mean - I think we were both set up, big time.”

“Some bigger than others. You didn’t have to listen to Jack’s twisted honeymoon of death.”

“And for that I will be forever grateful. But, let’s not overlook the fact that Isabel and Maria went through a lot of work to pull this off. They must be trying to tell us something.”

Liz sat back in her chair. “What do you think they’re trying to tell us?”

Max wrapped his hand around hers and looked into her eyes. Liz couldn’t blink. She was mesmerized, falling into his eyes all over again. It was true; nothing had changed between them. They were meant for each other.

“That we’re meant for each other,” Max echoed her thoughts.

Liz gulped. “Okay, that’s what Is and Maria are telling us. What do you think?”

“I think,” Max exhaled heavily and looked at their hands. “I think this last month has been pure torture watching you go on dates with other guys, always afraid that you’re going to really like one of them. I think that I don’t care what Isabel and Michael think about us, though it seems that Is won’t be a problem anymore. I think that I haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep since that night on your roof. I think that I want to kiss you and feel you in my arms again. I think that we really are meant for each other.” He chanced a look at her. “What do you think?”

“Well, there are a few questions I need to ask you; just to make sure we don’t have any misunderstandings.”

Max nodded slowly.

“First, what’s your favorite color?”

Max’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “What?”

“Just answer the question, please.”

“Uhm… I don’t really have a favorite. Somedays I like green, other days it’s blue. It kind of changes with my mood, I guess.”

Liz nodded. “Good. Okay, next question. What do you think of this whole retro, let’s-go-back-to-the-seventies craze?”

Max smiled, clearly wondering what was going on. “I think the seventies are better left in the past. In my opinion, bell-bottoms just look ridiculous.”

“Glad to hear you say that. Do you have any future plans involving pets?”

“Well, you’ve seen Harry, my tarantula. I don’t want to get a dog or cat or anything. It all comes back to not knowing what's going to happen to us or if we might have to leave suddenly. I don't want to have some animal depending on me.”

“This next one is a little personal, but believe me, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. What religion are you?”

Max raised his eyebrows. “My parents are Methodists so I guess that makes me one too, but I don’t go to church or anything.”

“So far so good. One final question, have you given any thoughts to your own funeral? You know, what kind of music you want played, if you want to be buried or cremated…”

“Well, actually, I have thought about my death, but mainly in the context of us being discovered by the government. Not anything about the actual… aftermath.”

Liz nodded thoughtfully. “That’s understandable. Congratulations,” she smiled brightly at him. “You’ve passed.”

He grinned. “That’s great. What do I win?”

Liz leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his. “Sorry, I don’t have a formal prize for you. But you can do this anytime you want.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be doing it a lot.” He slowly brushed his lips against hers and was just about to try deepening the kiss a little when they were interrupted by the sound of Liz’s stomach rumbling.

“I’m sorry,” Liz pulled back, clutching her stomach and red with embarrassment. “They set this lunch up so late and I’m starving.”

Max chuckled as he scooted his chair back under the table. “Okay, we eat first and kiss later?”

“Deal,” Liz picked up her fork. “I see you got the sweet and sour chicken. Did you remember to bring Tabasco sauce to jazz it up?”

“No.” He grabbed the bottle of soy sauce on the table. “I wonder how this would be mixed with sweet?” He slyly reached for Liz’s hand, then held it in the air, ignoring her squealing as he sprinkled the sauce across her fingertips.


Part 5 | Index
Max/Liz | Michael/Maria | Alex/Isabel | UC Couples | Valenti | Other | Poetry | Crossovers | AfterHours
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