A Roswell crossover fic involving four other shows (Yep, four)
Rating: PG
Category: Crossover, Roswell, Dawson's Creek, X-Files, Star Trek: TNG and Twilight Zone parody
Disclaimer: So many people own them, namely Jason Katims, Kevin WIlliamson, Chris Carter, Gene Roddenberry and Rod Serling. Not one of those people is me. No infringement intended.
Notes: Please do not arhive elsewhere without permission. Spoilers for Roswell's Pilot episode. My very first fic. It all started with an ad-lib and denigrated into a horribly bad, blurred behind-the-scenes parody.
Archive Date: 6/4/2000
“Liz, you have to look at me,” Max pleads. Liz opens her eyes and looks at him … cross-eyed. Max tries to control a grin and unable to stop himself, dissolves into a fit of laughter.
“I’m sorry but she started it,” Max tells a frowning director. The director walks over to Max and Liz and raises a golden eyebrow.
“Really, it wasn’t me,” Max insists.
“No, Max, it was you,” Liz counters, with eyes still not in position.
“See, she’s doing that cross-eyed thing again,” Max exclaims, bursting into another round of laughter.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the set, Maria practices throwing snappy lines at Michael like, “You’re kidnapping me, no, wait, you’re abducting me!”
Michael responds by crossing his eyes and saying “Maybe because I love you too much.”
Maria falls on the floor laughing her head off. “Who are you addressing, me or your nose?”
The thoroughly exasperated director DC turns to his assistant director Jo, a perky brunette, for some help. She also looks at him cross-eyed.
“See, even Jo's getting into the act,” Max explains, still convulsed with laughter.
DC quickly runs his fingers through the stray locks of hair on his forehead, a sure sign of frustration. He leaves Jo for a moment to corner Liz. “Are you trying to deceive, inveigle and obfuscate me?” DC questions.
“No, because you know … the truth is out there,” she responds.
“Then why? Why did you ruin this shot when you knew I loved it? That I still love it?” he almost screams.
“Ah, DC,” Jo pipes in, “you did tell her and I quote ‘Go with it, just go with it before I change my mind and take it all back.’ Maybe Liz thought the whole cross-eyed thing would just work in this scene.”
“Darn it, whoever heard of cross-eyes soulmates?” he screeches. “Liz has to do this scene properly, otherwise, that whole look-into-my-eyes-soulmate deal just isn’t going to fly!”
Upon hearing this, Liz straightens her eyes, walks back to her spot and lies down on the floor.
DC looks so happy, he’s about to cry. “Okay, let’s do this scene right. Max, stop laughing. It isn’t funny anymore. Liz isn’t even cross-eyed.”
Max gets back into position, placing the palm of his hand on Liz’s belly. “Liz, you have to look at me,” he pleads. Liz opens her eyes, smiles evilly and morphs into … Mr. X?
“Oh, for Chrissakes!” DC shouts.
Mr. X gets up from the floor and tells Max, “Trust no one, Mr. Mulder.”
“Mulder? My name’s not Mulder! It’s Evans! I live on 6025 Murray Lane,” Max replies.
Mr. X just stares hard at Max, says nothing and then walks off the set, his black trenchcoat looking really out of place in the bright summer light of the New Mexico desert town.
“Now that he’s gone …” DC break off his statement as he hears a scuffle in the background.
Michael picks a laughing Maria off the floor and carries her bodily off the set. His progress is slowed down considerably by his cross-eyed condition. Bump! Oof! Ow!
“Wait, you can't abduct me. This is not how a relationship works!” Maria chokes, in between laughs.
“That’s okay,” DC tells a crew member who tries to stop Nichael and Maria from leaving. “I have an idea for them later on. Probably a road trip or something like that. What was the name of that highway we passed earlier? 285 South? Sounds catchy. Maybe I’ll use it.”
DC turns to look at the set and find his leading lady tearing off into the desert. “Max, can you get Liz back on the set? She's gone off and run into the desert. I heard mumble something about not standing in the way of this shoot. And dammit, she cried. I think I hurt her feelings,” DC tells Max.
Max leaves the set in hot pursuit of his leading lady. Visions of her cross-eyed looks flash through his mind and he doubles over in laughter. “I gotta get her back. I gotta show her how I can keep a straight face while she’s doing her cross-eyed thing and she’s going to forget all about feeling hurt.” Max vows.
Meanwhile a certain short curly haired blonde, SCHB for short, saunters onto the set, clutches DC’s shoulders and intones, “I knew this was meant to be. It’s our destiny!”
“Whoa! Wrong guy, wrong show! What am I saying? Wrong planet!!!” DC steps back from her.
SCHB looks around for Max and finding him nowhere, cries, "What do we do now?"
Before DC can stammer out a reply, a well-manicured man, WMM for short, appears out of nowhere. He approaches DC and SCHB and drawls in an English accent “I want to believe!”
“Believe what?” Max asks as he arrives back on the set with a cross-eyed Liz in tow.
“I want to believe that Liz can do this scene without succumbing to the after effects of the antidote we developed to combat the virus that the alien colonists were planning to unleash on this planet through a series of bee attacks. The main after effect is the propensity to look at someone cross-eyed,” WMM explains.
“So, you mean, Liz, Michael and Jo and possibly others are infected with the antidote too? We’ve got to tell Valenti!” Max responds.
“Wait, Valenti doesn’t even come up for another couple of minutes! Let me tell you, at the rate this scene is going, he’s never going to show up!” DC exclaims.
“I thought that ‘never showing up’ idea was reserved for his son Kyle,” Jo replies.
“We have better resources than Valenti, stronger ones,” SCHB pipes in.
“Oh, yeah, how fast can those little legs carry you to Alaska, missy? Because that’s where you’ll find your answer!” WMM says.
“But, but, I can’t walk that far,” SCHB pouts.
Suddenly a trio of scary droid-like figures encased in black leather with tubes sticking out of their heads materialize in the midst of the set. “We are Borg. You will be assimilated,” they says in a monotone.
“Whaaaaaaat? Look, I just want to direct this damn scene and now we’re being assimilated? Puh-leeze!” DC screams.
“Oops!” the lead Borg answers, “Scotty, beam us up, will ya? We’re dropped in on the wrong show!” The transporter beams up the three … plus one.
“Uh-oh! Where’s Max?” Jo says worriedly.
“They have Max! They have Max!” cries Liz pitifully. And she thinks to herself, “Where’s Michael when I need a hug?"
“Great, now I’ve lost my male lead. The show’s not going to work without him. The network will probably threaten cancellation now,” DC despairs.
Liz furrows her eyebrows in concentration and manages to uncross her eyes. She gets a brilliant idea and decides to share it. “Don’t panic! We’ll just have to convince the Borg to return him to us. How about we send them 6,000 bottles of Tabasco and tell them ‘Max is Hot!’ so better return him on the spot?”
“Wonderful idea, Liz!” everyone responds.
“I have an idea, too,” SCHB says sulkily. “How about I send them visions of Max kissing me? Then they’ll know it was our destiny.” Everyone on the set rolls their eyes but SCHB goes ahead with her plan.
Max materializes among them instantly. “See, what did I tell you, my plan worked!” SCHB announces triumphantly. She thinks to herself, “6,000 bottles of Tabasco … yeah, right, like that would work!
“Actually, SCHB, the Borg were screaming and howling at all those images of me kissing you. ‘Make it stop, make it stop!’ they said. Finally the Borg queen just decided to whisk me back here because they couldn’t take it anymore,” Max illuminates her.
Stung by Max’s rebuttal, SCHB shoots a glance at Liz and asks, "Hey, how come she’s not cross-eyed anymore, huh? I mean, if she’s infected, why isn’t she showing the symptoms?”
Max shields Liz protectively and responds, “Because I kissed her before and we saw into each other’s souls. That eventually cured her.”
“But Max, weren’t you afraid of being infected by the cross-eyed thing yourself?” SCHB questions.
“Whether I get infected today, tomorrow or 50 years from now, my destiny is the same. It’s with Liz. I love Liz, cross-eyed or not,” Max replies resoundingly.
“People, people, please! We’re only in the pilot episode! The pilot! Do you know what ‘pilot’ means? It means the beginning of the series! We can’t even get through this one scene and already you’re giving out the ending. C’mon, we’ve got 21 episodes to go yet! I haven’t even introduced Alex and Isabel yet, not to mention the alternately spooky and somehow sexy shapeshifter, the cute-looking-Relativity-star-turned-sadistic-evil alien hunter, oblivious parents, a cool Indian and his hubba-hubba shirt baring friend!” a harassed DC rambles on to his glazed-looking audience.
WMM responds, “That’s why I keep telling people like you to ‘Trust no one’. You never know who will spill the spoilers of the season.”
He leaves the set and a black limo pulls up in front of him. The window rolls down and a puff of smoke emerges. “Cancer man, is that you? Why are you smoking out of your nose? Oh, my God, you’re cross-eyed too? We gotta get you some help!” The limo speeds off.
SCHB approaches Max and tries to put her arms around him. Before she can get a solid grip, she de-materializes from sight.
“Yep, I thought so. Those visions she sent to the Borg pushed them over the edge and they decided to assimilate her just to shut her up,” Max explains to the group.
“Now that no one is cross-eyed anymore, can we please reshoot scene?” DC pleads. Max and Liz get back into position and DC fiddles with the knobs on the camera.
“Uh, DC, those aren’t knobs you’re playing with. Those are my shirt buttons,” Jo tells him.
“God, now I’m infected too!” DC shouts. “Scene let’s this just, KO? I mean, let’s … just … shoot … this … scene, OK?” a persistent DC decides and reaches for the camera.
"Let me do it," Jen tell hims, deciding to helm the scene after seeing DC flounder about. "I want us to still be friends, okay? Even though I'm going off with the camera," she says sincerely.
DC grudgingly gives it up to Jo and stalks off to a solitary corner.
“Liz, you have to look at me!” Max pleads. Liz opens her eyes, which are not cross-eyed, and Max heals her gunshot wound.
“Cut, print it! Great, you two!” Jo tells them. having temporarily taken over the directorial duties.
DC is sitting in a corner, analyzing recent events and his cross-eyed condition endlessly. "This apalling circumstance is merely transient. I refuse to let it impinge my aptitude for articulating five-dollar words that no conventional pubescent would ever utter."
Flushed with relief that the scene finally played out well, Max approaches Liz. “Wow, that scene went off without a hitch, huh? Not like the first time,” Max comments jovially.
“What are you talking about, Max?” Liz inquires.
“You know, that whole cross-eyed thing. You really made me laugh. And then DC got all mad, you shapeshifted in Mr. X, SCHB came in and so did WMM.” Max responds.
“Huh?” Liz gets puzzled. "What are you talking about, Max?" Liz adds.
"Hmmmm, maybe that antidote didn’t just affect your eyesight, it also affected your memory, Liz,” Max explains.
“What are you babbling about?” Liz reiterates.
“I do not babble. And you know what I mean!” Max says as he calls on DC, Jo, SCHB and the rest of the crew to back him up. As his explanation gets longer, everyone looks at him strangely as they shake their heads.
“Max," Liz comes up close to him and says softly, "I hate to tell you this but … "
"Yes, Liz?" Max stares at her without blinking.
"It was only a dream,” Liz rushes carefully, her breath hitching.
“Oh,” Max says in a little voice.
Submitted for your approval … a man named Max Evans, whose encounters with a cross-eyed girl leads to a series of twists and turns, all emerging in nothing but a dream … Here in the Twilight Zone.
-End-
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