| TITLE: SOMEONE LIKE YOU AUTHOR: Aphrodite (aka Leslie) E-MAIL: lwellner29@hotmail.com RATING: PG-13 CATEGORY: UC Michael and Liz SPOILERS: None DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anything, everything belongs to Jason Katims and Fox (although I’d love to borrow Jason for awhile). STORY: Liz POV. Liz teams up with Michael and heads to New York. AUTHOR’S NOTE: All episodes through Meet the Dupes have happened (the scene where Max visited Liz in her room, however, did not happen). I take my own little spin from there. Also, Max and Tess are in New York with Lonnie and Rath for a while before they even go to the summit. (I’ve had to change the timeline a little bit from the show’s, but it’s nothing major.) Some Author’s Notes are within the story and are marked. Hope you enjoy! Prelude: Liz Parker’s diary entry November 17, 2000 I’m Liz Parker and I’m at a loss for words. Almost. Michael’s double, Rath, kissed me in the middle of the hallway at West Roswell High. Right in front of my locker in plain sight of any and every student around! I thought he was Michael. Part of me wanted it to be Michael. It was just amazing and flattering that he was making these advances towards me. I mean, who’d have ever thought? And then when he kissed me, I really didn’t mind the thought of Michael kissing me. I even started kissing back before it hit me where we were and what we were doing. The memory makes my heart race. And it makes me want more. God, what am I thinking?! This is Michael we’re talking about. Technically it was Rath, but I didn’t know it was him. So these thoughts aren’t about him. These thoughts are about Michael. I’m talking about Michael Guerin, the hybrid that shuts everyone out and has the worst haircut I’ve ever seen. I mean, who does he think he is? Rob Thomas? Rath’s mohawk would almost be an improvement. Actually, it wouldn’t, but you understand what I mean? I can’t deny this nagging feeling I have. What would kissing Michael be like? When Rath kissed me, it was a shock to my system. Not a bad shock though. I was energized and giddy and I felt alive for the first time since … well, it’s been a while. But let’s not go there. So would kissing Michael affect me? Of course it would. To feel the pent up emotion and passion that must come out of him. It was obviously enticing to Maria … Maria, my best friend. What would she say? Easy, she’d kill me. And she’d never ever talk to me again. Or maybe she’d think of something even worse. She had a point though. About me not telling her about the kiss. I did think it was Michael. And I didn’t want to tell her. Because all these new feelings showed up. Feelings I never imagined I would ever have for Michael. And I guess I wanted to figure things out. Besides, she does not need another reason to inhale any more cedar oil. That scientific mind of mine is in overdrive now. What would kissing Michael prove? That it’s just some schoolgirl crush I have because I’m "Perfect Parker" and he fits the rebel stereotype perfectly? Or would it prove that these feelings run deeper and could develop into something more? And you know what’s really bad? It’s only been a day since the kiss and already Michael is taking over my thoughts. SOMEONE LIKE YOU PART ONE Friday "Order up." No disrespect to my parents, but this place is starting to get on my nerves. The Crashdown is just getting old. Thank goodness they’re giving me Thanksgiving week off. I really need a break. I head over to the window to pick up Brody and Maria’s order from a quite unhappy Michael Guerin. And I must say my eyes linger on him a little longer than usual. There’s nothing wrong with that, right? I take the sandwiches over and note the friendly banter between Brody and Maria. Is that flirting I see? "Thanks, girl," Maria says with a huge grin. Brody smiles too, more at Maria than at me. "No problem, it’s my job, right?" I say with a little smile of my own. If only Maria were looking at him right now! He must be at least 25 and he’s acting like a teenage boy. Does this mean they never grow out of it? I leave them to their … date? Yeah, it must be a date. I mean, they’re eating and there’s some definite flirting happening. And I’m sure Brody will insist on paying for the meal. My eyes sweep the pretty much empty Crashdown as I carry some dirty dishes to the back. As I glance in the kitchen, I catch yet another glimpse of Michael. This time he’s glaring through the order window. I tiptoe behind him to see who he’s watching. Maria. Of course. I must have muttered that last part under my breath, because he whipped around suddenly, startling me and causing me to jump back. "Liz." "S-sorry to startle you," I stutter. His eyes are as hard as steel. Beautiful dark eyes that hide so much. Is everything about him as intense as it appears? "What can I do for you?" he asks, crossing his arms and frowning down at me. Snap out of it Liz. "Oh … um, I was just wondering how you’re doing. You know, with Lonnie and Ava and um, Rath in town." "It’s none of your business, Liz," he says, turning his back towards me as he scrubs the grill, periodically looking out the order window. Typical Stonewall Guerin … has to block everyone out. I don’t know why I get my hopes up. I nod slowly and turn to go up front. ---------------------- Scene: The next night (Saturday)—Max and Tess left the night before, leaving no word of where they’ve gone. Max did not visit Liz before she left. Five days until the summit. I’m sitting on my roof looking at my last entry, the one about Michael. God, what was I thinking? It must have been the newness that made me imagine all that stuff. But I don’t imagine the butterflies I get when I’m near him, the feeling I’ve always gotten around him. I sigh and pull my hair into a ponytail. I’ll just have to get over it. Loud steps sound on the fire escape and I sit up looking towards the ladder. Michael jumps over the wall and pounds towards me. "Michael…" I stammer, a little confused. "What the hell happened, Liz?" His breathing is a heavy, like he’d been running. His eyes are blazing. "What?" "Max, Liz. What the hell happened with Max?" Jesus, he’s yelling. What the hell is his problem? "Lower your voice," I hiss, walking towards him. My parents were down in the Crashdown closing and I didn’t want to attract their attention. "Max is gone, Liz. You must have done something to make him leave. What the hell did you do?" "Nothing," I said, still confused and now surprised. Then I let his words sink in. "What do you mean he’s gone? Where’d he go?" "Where do you think? The summit. He and Tess went with them to New York for the summit." My mind is swimming. I sway a little, trying to process everything. Maria clued me in about the summit. I knew it was huge. Interplanetary politics and all that. "Liz!" My head jerks to Michael, who looks at me expectantly. "What did you do, Liz? Tell me!" He demands. "What the hell do I have to do with this?" I retort. "I know what happened with you and Kyle. The rumors are all over school." Ok, now my stomach has completely flipped. I look away from him and stare blankly across the street, preparing to tell my well-rehearsed lie. "Everyone knows, Liz," he continues. "So Max must have heard. You’re the reason he’s gone." He leans in closer to me. "You just keep turning the knife is his heart, don’t you?" I look at him with pure hatred in my eyes. "It’s none of your business, Michael," I snap, repeating his words from the day before. I turn my back to him and walk across to my bench to snatch up my journal. "Actually it is," he says angrily as he walks towards me. His voice begins to rise. "Because your little role in the hay made him leave Roswell with them. Without me and Isabel. Without telling anyone!" "That is not the reason he left! So you better use your so-called superior alien intellect to think of something else!" Yes, I’m yelling. And I’m so angry I don’t care. "What other fucking reason could there be, Liz? You sleep with Kyle Valenti of all people and then let the rumors spread. I found out last week and I can only assume Max found out, too." "Max has known for weeks, okay? So there is no way he just up and left because of it." My eyes are rapidly filling with angry tears and my resolve starts to fade. "What are you talking about?" Now it’s his turn to be shocked and confused. "How the hell did he find out?" I look to my room. For the first time I’m seeing from the angle Max must have seen. I can even imagine Kyle and me, lying under the sheets. I see the way the light casts into the dark room, shining on the red quilt. Anger and sadness wash over me. I think I’m gonna be sick. Michael is suddenly beside me. He must have been trying to get my attention. He grabs my arm, whipping me around to look at him. And then something amazingly horrible happens. I see flashes of my own memories. And by the look on Michael’s face I know he’s seeing them too. *Future Max "beaming" onto my roof *Pushing Max and Tess together *Failing twice to turn Max away *Staging the scene in bed with Kyle *Seeing Max’s reaction as I broke his heart We break apart violently and I stumble until my back hits the wall, bracing myself against it. He backs away, but stops when he hits my lawn chair and falls into it. Both of us are breathing heavily and staring at each other with wide eyes. Shit. He saw it. I know he did. How the hell are Michael and I sharing flashes? I can’t say anything. I can hardly breathe. Oh God! I’m having a panic attack. My first honest to God panic attack. I slide down the wall and put my head between my knees, trying not to pass out. Everything is spinning and I slump on my side, fighting to remain conscious. Tears and sweat pour down my face. "Calm down, Liz. Just breathe." My head jerks up shakily and there’s Michael, kneeling in front of me. He doesn’t touch me, probably trying to avoid another flash, but once he’s sure I won’t faint he backs away. My breathing becomes normal after a few minutes and suddenly turning the rings on my fingers has my complete attention. Anything to avoid this conversation. When I finally look up, he’s sitting in front of me, turning his own rings. A part of me smiled that we shared such a simple distraction. But then he looks up. Studying me. Like he was trying to decide if I had an active imagination or if what he’d seen really were memories. "What the hell was that, Liz?" My eyes shift to my fingers again. Should I make up a story? Even try to lie? I look up at him. Into his eyes. Those eyes that stare so intently, that threaten to stare straight through me. Just like the night he returned my diary. God, I almost shiver at the memory of his body brushing against mine for that split second behind the counter. And at that moment I realize that I don’t want to lie to him. Something in him has always understood me and I’m thankful for that. Maybe it’s because he read my diary that time. Or because we worked together when the FBI had Max. But the truth is, it’s him. I can’t pin it on one thing, one action. It’s just a feeling … that maybe he’s just always understood me. And that maybe he feels the same way. So I take a breath and start. |