Rating: Suitable for children

Pairing: M/L

Spoiler/Notes: Pre-pilot

Author's Note: I paraphrased a line from "A Roswell Christmas Carol" written by Jason Katims.

*******

"How about these?"

Max eyed the pair of slippers his father was holding up.

"Didn't we get her slippers a couple of years ago?" he asked.

His father scratched his head and put the slippers back. "You think so?"

"The blue ones, remember? They still look pretty new," Max said.

His father sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I wish your sister was here."

"Well, you know how she gets this time of year. We only had one opportunity to go shopping with her last week and we blew it. Now we're on our own."

They made their way out of the store and into the crowded mall. Max looked around. Why did everyone wait until the day before Christmas do to their shopping? Wasn't anyone organized?

Other than his sister, of course. She had completed her Christmas shopping weeks ago, and everything was neatly wrapped and stacked under the tree, behind the village, outside the loop of the train track, next to the Santa Sleigh she had made in art class the year before.

"Where is our little General anyway?"

Max shrugged. "Nursing home, I think."

Mr. Evans chuckled. "I don't know where she gets all that energy."

"I wish she would spread it over the whole year. She's exhausting!"

Mr. Evans only laughed.

"I mean it, Dad! She's worse than a General. She's like a Christmas... I don't know, like a Christmas Dictator!"

Mr. Evans put his hand on Max's shoulder. "It's only a couple of months a year, Max. And it makes her happy."

Max sighed. As much of a pain as Isabel was this time of year, his father was right. All that Christmas stuff did make her happy and though he may never admit it to her, Max liked to see his sister happy.

Max looked around at the people carrying plastic bags overflowing with presents, and dragging crying children behind them to yet another store. Max understood how the kids felt. Ah, to be a child again and have the luxury to scream at the top of his lungs! But he was fifteen, not six, and he still had to get a present for his mother. The quicker the better, so they could get out of here. He thought that if he had to spend another 15 minutes in this place, he might just start behaving like those kids, age be damned.

Max and Philip Evans found themselves in front of the electronics store and looked at each other before shaking their heads. Max's mom wasn't very much into technology.

They kept walking and came across a shoe store. Women liked shoes, didn't they?

"Do you think Mom would like a new pair of fancy shoes?" Max asked.

"Well, I know she does like them but I wouldn't know the first thing about buying her shoes she would actually wear," Philip admitted.

Max knew his dad had a point. He looked across the way to the home appliance store.

"Maybe she would like a blender or something?" Max suggested. "She does like to cook."

They started walking that way until Mr. Evans stopped in the middle of the throng of holiday shoppers.

"Remember last year when we thought a new vacuum cleaner would be a good idea?"

Max grimaced, remembering the speech Isabel had subjected them to. "Do you think a blender is like a vacuum cleaner?" he asked his dad.

Philip Evans shrugged. "I don't know. I would buy a blender, but then again, I almost did buy the vacuum cleaner and that, according to Isabel, was a big no-no. On the other hand, the microwave was okay. How are we supposed to tell the difference?"

They stood there for a moment, discouraged.

Max wondered why this was so hard. It really shouldn't be; all they needed was something that said 'Diane Evans', something that embodied her spirit. What would Isabel say? Something useful and... special? How was he supposed to know what that meant?

"What are Isabel's rules, again?" Max asked.

"Um... " His father thought for a moment. "Something personal and thoughtful that she would never get for herself."

"Okay, well, I don't think she would get a blender," Max said. Maybe there was hope after all.

"Yeah, but is it personal?"

Max and his dad looked at each other, feeling rather dejected. They had to face reality. The Evans men sucked when it came to Christmas shopping. Max made a mental note to listen to Isabel's advice from now on, at least as far as gifts were concerned.

"Okay, so we should avoid the home appliance store."

They kept walking through the dense crowd. There seemed to be even more people now than when they had arrived a couple of hours ago. Max looked at his watch. They only had about another half-hour before the stores closed. Time was running out.

"What we need is a divine intervention," he muttered under his breath. If Christmas miracles really did exist, now was a pretty good time for one.

"Didn't I tell you to start your Christmas shopping earlier this year, Dad? God, have you seen this crowd?"

Max could hardly believe it. As if in answer to his prayer, the sweetest voice reached his ears and made him turn around quickly.

His eyes scanned the swarms of shoppers, years of practice coming in handy as they landed almost immediately on the girl who had spoken. A few years ago, Max had thought of Liz Parker as the most beautiful of Christmas angels after she had played one in the Holiday pageant. This year, she might literally become one. Max figured he might have to rethink his whole belief system; there, just in the nick of time, was his potential salvation and she was none other than his dream girl. If that didn't make him believe in a greater power, Max didn't know what would.

"I have an idea, Dad. Follow me," Max said, tugging on his father's sleeve.

He followed the sound of Liz's voice through the crowd, nervously rehearsing in his head what he would say to her when he asked for her help in getting a present for his mom.

You can do this, he thought to himself. You can do it. You talk to Liz in school all the time. That was actually somewhat of a lie. Liz had been his biology lab partner since school had started in September but they had never talked about anything personal during class. He also saw her regularly at the Crashdown after school, but there too, their conversations were limited to what he wanted to eat. In fact, Max didn't recall a single conversation with Liz that didn't have to do with food or biology since they had entered junior high. Not that he didn't want to talk to Liz. It was just that his stomach would rumble and he felt like he had swallowed his tongue every time he attempted to.

Finally, they walked into a store. Max made sure to keep Liz in sight at all times.

"Here," Liz said to her father as they stopped in front of a display. "You can never go wrong with perfume."

Max stopped a few feet away, pretending to be very interested in a glass case where watches were displayed. Maybe he should just play it cool, bump into her by 'accident', get a conversation going and ask for her advice.

"Your mother's watch is still pretty new, Max. I bought her one for our anniversary," Mr. Evans pointed out.

"Oh, right," Max nodded absently, most of his attention still focused on Liz and her father.

"I don't remember what kind of perfume your mother wears, Lizzie," Mr. Parker was saying. By the sound of his voice, Max could tell that the Evans men were not the only ones in serious need of a crash course in Christmas shopping.

Max moved a little closer to where Liz was and distractedly started looking through scarves and gloves, keeping one eye on what she was doing. He saw her pick a small yellow box up. "That's the one she likes," Liz said, putting the box in her father's hand.

Her father kissed the top of her head. "What would I do without you?"

"Beg for forgiveness Christmas morning when Mom realized you bought her a juicer?"

Mr. Parker stared at the array of perfume bottles for a moment, shaking his head. "How do women even know which one to pick?"

"Trial and error," Liz laughed. "One day when I have money though, I hope I can afford some Chanel. That smells good on everyone."

"I'll keep that in mind," Mr. Parker said. Max couldn't help but think he should also file the tidbit for future reference.

He suddenly realized that he had his answer to his gift dilemma and he didn't even need to come up with a scheme to talk to Liz. As much as he would have liked to spend a bit of time with her, deep down he knew that he couldn't pull the cool and confident act around her, especially not with their fathers here. It was probably better this way. He got Liz's help for his present - whether or not she knew she helped was irrelevant - and he could leave with his dignity still intact. God knew there was a very high risk of him turning into a bumbling fool if he actually had to talk to Liz. He could make his escape while Liz paid for her item and come back in a few minutes to get one for his mom.

Yes, this could definitely work.

He raised his head to locate his dad and was about to suggest they move over to the next row when his eyes met Liz's. He had a moment of panic; if she saw him here she might think he was stalking her! What should he do? He quickly looked away, wishing with all his might that becoming invisible was one of his powers, but he knew he was too late. Liz had definitely seen him.

"Oh! Hi, Max! Last minute Christmas shopping?" she said as she walked by him.

Max nodded and swallowed. Why was his mouth suddenly so dry when it had been fine a moment ago?

"We're buying something for my mom," he managed to say. His voice did sound a little high to his own ears though.

"Good luck with that," Mr. Parker said sincerely as he walked away.

Liz lingered for just a moment.

"Merry Christmas, Max," she said, putting a strand of her hair behind her ear. Max thought back to how soft her hair had been under his fingers and he wondered if he would ever get the chance to feel it again.

"Merry Christmas, Liz," Max answered, wishing that he had the courage to hug her. He still remembered the hug she had given him at the pageant three years before. That would so make his holiday! Heck, it might even make his whole year.

"I'll see you in January," she said.

Max nodded as she walked away. He knew he would see her before that. He planned to go by the Crashdown as much as possible during the school break. He couldn't go without a Liz fix for very long. Pathetic, he knew, but - eh. What can you do.

"So, if not a watch, what should we get your mother? The store will close really soon."

Max turned to his father, thanking heavens for Liz Parker. She had unknowingly saved him today. He hoped one day he would be able to return the favor.

"How about some perfume? I hear you can't go wrong with Chanel."

The end

Part 4 - Christmas 1999 - Not So Wonderful Christmas Time

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