Author: Nes
Email: spitfireness@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: We all know who Roswell belongs to. Due to the amount of cultural references, other disclaimers can be found at the bottom of the page.
Notes: This is revised as of 9.23.01, nothing is changed except the tone of the first couple of parts which weren't as happy/silly/fun as the rest turned out to be.

This is a Set-Up

The man sitting on the stoop was suspiciously well-dressed. Three-piece suit and serious brown shoes. A 2000 Lincoln Navigator sitting beside the mailbox.

That can't be one of Mom's boyfriends.

Mechanically, she parked the Jetta. Brake, park, lights, engine. The man on the stoop stood up and moved towards her with casually even steps.

"Miss?"

"Maria DeLuca. Can I help you?" She stopped herself from adding, 'I'll be your waitress, let me tell you today's specials.' She spends more time than she'd like to admit asking people what she can do for their better living.

He smiled. "I'm Philip, Amy DeLuca's lawyer. I have some legal papers for her to He held up the envelope in his left hand, and the other for Maria to shake.

"Mom's not here right now. Why don't you just leave them with me?" She holds out her hand. They're standing outside the door now, she doesn't want him to watch her search cluelessly for her keys. Keeping secrets in Roswell makes you careful of strangers.

"I had no idea Amy's daughter was so-"

"Young?"

"Lovely." He smiled, encouragingly. The dimple in his cheek chanting, 'Trust me, like me.'

The flattery got to her. She smiled back. "Thanks."

But she still wanted him to leave. "So about those papers?"

"Sure, sure." He handed them to her and headed towards his car. Halfway across the lawn, he turnsed around.

"Miss DeLuca?"

"Yes." She imagined his car's stalled and he wants to borrow the phone. Living her own life is never enough, she has to speculate on everyone else's, too.

He ran his hands through graying hair. "I don't usually do this sort of thing, but -you see, I have this son."

Of course. Better living through Maria. She checked her forehead for a tattoo that says, STOOGE.

"He's about your age. Real good kid, quiet."

It's always the quiet ones.

"I'd like you to go out on a date with him." He paused, "You don't have a boyfriend, do you?"

Does she look the sort of girl who doesn't have a boyfriend? The desperate kind who calls and leaves messages every hour on the hour...

Who spends her summer vacation, in the prime of her life, handing obnoxious tourists and whiny toddlers sustenance to live instead of withholding it the way they do in civilized countries...

No, she was Maria DeLuca -independent woman!

"No, I don't. I'd love to go on a date with your son."

"He'll pick you up at seven."

***

Hard to be sure
Sometimes I feel so insecure
And loves so distant and obscure
Remains the cure

All by myself
Don't wanna be
All by myself
Anymore
All by myself
Don't wanna live
All by myself
Anymore

The off-color warble of the last note carried Max to the brink; he pounded on the door. Experience has taught him not to unlock it without checking.

Wincing, he yelled, "Hey, Celine! I hope you're decent because I'm coming in. I need to shave."

"Okay!" Isabel answered.

He waved his hand over the doorknob and walked in. The mirror was steamed up from Isabel's bath.

The pipes strained and he heard the rush of water stop.

"Could you put something on, please?"

"I've got a towel."

"Something bigger than a face cloth, little sister."

Ignoring him as sisters will, she sat down on the toilet to watch him lather his face.

"So you're not gonna stew in front of the TV tonight with Ben and Jerry?"

"Five times, Is. I've only done it five times. Now go away, before I cut myself."

"We've only been out of school for five days. What's the big deal? Why don't you just do it the easy way? It's how I do my legs." She mimicked on her own face.

"And I'm sure the upperclassmen of West Roswell appreciate it."

"So, what are you doing?"

"Movie. Dinner. I don't know. Dad'll tell me."

"Daddy?" "He set me up with some client's daughter." Max grimaced at himself in the mirror.

"You're going on a date," Is squealed. "A blind date? Daddy? You know, Max, if you wanted to meet a girl, I know lots of them. I'm kind of hurt you didn't ask me first."

"Shut up, Isabel. It's not a date."

"What's Daddy paying you?"

"I'm not some sort of prostitute, Is."

"You're doing it for free!"

"Shut up, Isabel."

Isabel looked closely at her older brother, gauging his mood. "This isn't about her, is it?"

"You can say it, Izzy."

"It's not about Liz Parker, is it?"

"No, this is about a son doing something nice for his father."

"Fine, I get it." She grumbled. "I'll lay off. So why is Daddy setting this chick up? Blind dates and business, not his usual m.o."

Max had a feeling his father's noticed him moping around the house.

"I don't know, Is. Okay?"

"So why are you going?"

"Because I've got nothing better to do."

"You could paint my nails for me? What do you say, Max? Sibling Manicure Night? I've got a violet to bring your eyes out."

Fatherly Advice

"Max, you're not really gonna wear that, are you?" Isabel picked lint off her brother's brown sweater.

"What's wrong with this?" The question is noncommittal, he doesn't really care.

"It's a sweater. This is summer. You do the math."

"It's all about layering, little sister. I have a shirt underneath."

"Oooh, you're a veritable onion."

"Max?" Their father peeked his head around the corner. "You ready to go? It's twenty 'til seven."

"Sure, dad." He held his hand out and it was filled with keys, cash, and tickets.

Mrs. Evans appeared behind her husband, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Your father's always been a romantic, you know."

Max blusheed, "I'm not trying to make a love connection here. I made no promises."

"Not even to have fun?"

"Does that mean I don't have to go?"

"It means you get an extension on your curfew." His dad cut in, "Only if you promise to spend that extension in the backseat of the Navigator."

Max blushed again, his parents ribbing was't new but it still got to him.

"The new car?"

"Max," his father looped an arm around his broad shoulder as they walked outside. "This girl...she's special. I could see that. I think you deserve someone like that."

"Dad-"

"Now, I know you just got out of a serious relationship. But, honestly, son, I never really thought you and littly Lizzie Parker made a good match."

"Dad!"

"Son, hear me out. Best friends, sure, but love -you were too alike. You need someone with...," Mr. Evans held his hands up to his chest as he searched for the right words.

"Great big tracts of land?"

Mr. Evans looked at his hands and realized what it looked like he was groping for. "Max, you need someone impudent."

"Impudent?" He choked out.

"Fire, sass! A girl with some spirit and backbone, someone who'll take you for a ride. Someone you'll fight tooth and claw and cherish. You need a woman to bring out the fire in you."

"Well, I'll have to remember that."

"Fine, fine. Now this girl, I'll understand if she's not the one. Even though I've got this feeling about her."

"But-"

"You just have fun, Max. And if this doesn't work out," Mr. Evans said that doubtfully, "there will be other girls and other dates. We've got a whole summer ahead of us and I've got a Filofax."

Being Beautiful

Maria bopped happily in front of her closet mirror. Getting dressed was so much easier when you were only had to look good to you.

Being beautiful was so much easier when you weren't doing it for someone else.

Faster, too.

Oh, yes. I am going to have fun tonight.

It was refreshing -this business of having no expectations, of self-dependence, independence. If she wanted to have a good time, she would.

Even if this guy was a cold fish.

The doorbell rang and she pulled the curtain aside. Seeing the Navigator, she unlocked the door.

***

Max wasn't sure whether he wanted to be angry with his father. If he wanted to think about it all. About her, at all.

He decided his dad means well, that's good enough.

He checked street numbers and names as he drove through Roswell. He liked to drive.

He pulled into a driveway, then double-checked the address his father gave him.

There's got to be more than one red Jetta in this town.

Chanting this, he marcheed to the door and rang the bell.

It opened and since his head was down he got to appreciate the long drink of her legs.

Nice choice, go Dad.

Then he looked past the short skirt, tiny waist, and...tracts of land to her face.

It's her best friend.

***

It's his best friend.

Keyser Soze and the Bond Girl

They stared at each other across the threshold.

Max coughed nervously, says hello.

She motioned him inside, towards the couch. Maria sat herself down, placed a pillow between them.

"This is a surprise," he began. It's an apology. "I didn't know, Maria."

"It's okay, Max. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

"You mean, you still want to -with me?"

"Pally, I was promised a date. Do you see this dress?" She gestured wildly and the dress tugged in all the right place. "I am having fun tonight, with or without you."

Her next words were softer, "But I think maybe you should come with me."

It earned her a small grin, "Been talking to Isabel?"

Her face burned, Isabel was no longer a part of her vocabulary. But man-stealer was.

Max watched as the pain was chased away from her face, and she smiled genuinely at him. He'd never noticed the smile before, it was good to see.

"Ursula," she held out her hand.

"Right back at you," he said, confused.

"No, no!" She stood up, scooted him outside the door and locked it.

He stood there dumbly, wondering how can she be abrupt. He planned to pick up a pint of Chunky Monkey in case she didn’t open the door.

Curiosity got the best of him, he knocked.

The door opened and she stood there, purse and keys in hand.

"Hi!" Her smile was megawatt now -and determined. "You must be Philip's son, I'm Ursula Andress. My friends call me Honey. I believe you are escorting me tonight."

He understood now, and held out his arm to her. "You would be right. I am...I am...Keyser Soze."

She quirked an eyebrow, then fell back into character and took an elbow. "What a nice name. Does it run in the family?"

"Yes. My grandfather, father, and I all have the same name. They call my grandfather Big Soze, and me Little Soze."

"Like the song 'Little Suzie?"

"No. Not at all. Do you want to guess what they call my dad?"

"Medium Soze?" "No, they call my dad Philip."

"Naturally." The banter carried them down the drive to the car.

Max -Little Soze- opened the passenger door, helped her inside.

He walked around the front, oddly at ease. He put the keys in the ignition, stopped and turned to her, "Honey, may I call you Honey?"

She nodded and he turned the engine with a rumble. "

Honey, we are going to have fun tonight."

Metaphysical Cheese

"So, Little, what's on the menu for tonight?"

"Not sure, Honey. I think my dad dropped some tickets on me, but I didn't see what they were. They're on the dashboard."

She leaned forward, picked them up, and squeaed happily.

Without taking his eyes off the wheel, he plucked one out of her hand.

"Metaphysical Cheese: a Living Art Exhibit?" Slowly, he looked at the girl next to him. "So, uh, you're into dairy?"

"No, silly." She swatted him playfully on the shoulder. "I don't even know what a living art exhibit is. But look down, the show is in Albequerque! Meaning not in Roswell! Meaning Albequerque!"

She was practically hitting the roof, she was bouncing so high. It got to him. He hadn't felt this good in a long time.

"We're off to see the cheese! The wonder, metaphysical cheese! We're off, we're off! We're off! We're off to see the cheese!"

Maria looked at him like he was off his rocker, then remembered that she was Ursula and he was Soze. Playfully she responded.

"You won't get to see the cheese if I cut off your knees! So stop your singing please before I make you eat my keys!"

"Hey, that wasn't the right tune!"

She growled and swatted his shoulder again.

Stinky Biscuit and the Goose in Heat

"Okay, question?"

"Are you asking me one?"

"Yeah, okay. You know where my name comes from. Where's Honey from?"

"You don't know who Honey Ryder is?"

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

She patted his shoulder in sympathy, "She was the first Bond Girl. From Dr. No."

He frowned. "Still not getting the picture."

"You remember the bikini Mariah Carey wore in the "Honey" video? It's based on Ursula Andress.' She's the actress who played Honey."

"Oh."

"Little?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever been to Albequerque?"

"Actually, no. You?"

"Are you kidding? The only time I've left Roswell was that road trip to Marathon."

They're both quiet.

"Hey, Honey?" His voice was tentative.

"Yeah?"

She looked at him. He's crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out, his bottom lip puckering up.

"Ohmigod, you look you've lost all but three brain cells!" She laughed..

He began to make honking sounds like a goose in heat.

"You freak! Stop!" She snorted.

"Oh, that was ladylike..."

"Shut up and put your eyes back on the road, I can't breathe!"

He was laughing, too, but more calmly. He put his eyes back on the road now.

Slyly, he said, "Hyena."

"Freak."

"Snorter."

"Stinky biscuit."

"Nice one."

"Thanks, I've been saving it up."

"Dumbo."

"Hey, you're not talking about my ears, are you. A guy can be sensitive about his...parts."

"Oh, is that so 'Little?'"

"Hey, now! That's going too far! You- you blonde person!"

"Oh!" She pressed a hand to her chest. "You slay me."

"Bite my neck and call me Buffy."

"You dig the Scooby?"

"Is watches."

"Sure, sure." She grinned, "Faker."

"I'll have you know it was my turn."

"Whiner."

Phone Calls

"And so the elephant says-"

"Little, I hate to interrupt your story because I'm sure it's about to get really funny. I am. But, you know, it's almost nine o' clock."

"What?" Max checked the car's digital display. "That's not possible. I can't have been driving that long."

She smiled. "Yeh, time kinda flew by, huh? It surprised me, too. But I was thinking maybe I better check in with my mom since I only left her a note..."

"Good idea. There's a gas station coming up. We can use the phone there."

She was surprised at his courtesy. When was the last time a guy has been this polite?

***

"No, mom, I'm okay." She looked at Max who was standing beside her and mouths, 'She's freaking."

"No, mom, I'm not with Michael. I'm with your lawyer's son."

A pause, she handed him the phone. "She wants to talk to you."

Maria smiled as she watched Max speak to her mother

"Max, ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am."

"No, ma'am."

"Yes, I would like to keep those intact, ma'am."

"I understand completely, ma'am."

He handed the phone back, looking a little green.

"We're going to see some art exhibit. I don't know where. Oh, in Albequerque."

Maria pulled the phone quickly away from her ear and Max could hear Amy DeLuca yelling. When it stopped, Maria slowly brought it closer.

"Five hours! No kidding? We had no idea."

"Yeah, I didn't want to go anyway."

Max frowned. Why am I so disappointed?

He headed towards the snack aisle of the gas station and tried to decide between a Fun Dip and a pack of Nerds. Picks out a Twix bar for Maria before heading back. By the time he has paid, she was almost done.

"Love you, too." She hung up and looked at him. "Cool, snacks."

"I figured I'd need the sugar for the drive back to Roswell." He handed her the Twix.

"Yum, caramel and cookie!" She ripped open the foil like she's just killed it. "Back?"

"Well, I figured, not that I was eavesdropping, your mom wanted you home and you didn't..."

"Max, do you remember how neither one of us has been to Albequerque?"

"Um, yes."

"Do you know how long a drive it is?"

"A couple hours."

"Try five."

He did the math. "We left around seven thirty, so we'd get there, oh, about after midnight. Oh. Oh!"

"Looks like we'll be missing the mystical cheese."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Somehow, I think I'll live." "I wonder what my dad was thinking?"

"You'd know better than me. Why don't you call him, pay phone being right there and all."

"Good idea."

"That's me, chockful of good ideas."

He dropped some quarters into the machine and dialed.

"Hi, Isabel, can I talk to dad?"

"No, she's not a-," He looked down at Maria. "Wait, I'm wrong. She is a freak. A snorting hyena biscuit freak."

Maria socked him in the shoulder.

"But only in the nicest possible way."

Maria puts down her fist. Max cradled his shoulder and mouthed, 'Ow.'

"Dad? This is Max. I'm in-," he looked down at the yellow phone book. "I'm in Carter. You know those tickets you gave me?"

"Yes, you did give me tickets. For some art exhibit in Albequerque."

Maria heard his father's loud guffaws.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense."

"I'm safe. But if you care so much about my safety, why'd you send me out here with this strange girl. She could be a serial killer you know."

Maria socked him again.

"If she gutted me, would you still represent her in court?"

"Okay. I'll be safe."

He hung up.

"Those tickets weren't for us. Some girl was giving them out at the office and he dumped them in his pocket. Guess it just landed with the keys."

"Oh. So what now?"

"I'm not sure. I don't want to go back to Roswell. What about you, do you have to be home?"

"Are you kidding? Now that my mom's checked you out I'm good for a few more hours. Besides, it's the summer time, it's not like we have to be in homeroom at 8:00 or anything."

"Okay, then." He offered her his arm. "My lady Ursula, would you like to take a tour of this fair land of Carter?"

She took it. "Only if you don't mind hanging out with a hyena serial killer?" Her look was pointed.

He dropped her hand and pinched her cheeks. "Oh, but you're just the cutest little hyena ever!"

"Why you!"

Before she could finish her threat, Max was running towards the parking lot. Over his shoulder, he called, "Race you to car!"

Little Green Men

"Mutant."

Maria snorted, "You’re one to talk, O Normal Human Boy."

"Takes one to know one." He looked to the girl at his side and then at the building before him. "No way."

From the gas station they’d driven into Carter, parked, and walked along the main drag. They’d been window shopping and overall appreciating the complete lack of alien memorabilia before Maria stopped dead and pointed.

She’d then looked at him with puppy dog eyes, "Purty please?"

"No freaking way."

"C’mon, Soze. It’s not like they’re little green men." She paused, "Okay, yeah, they are but they’re not in the way that...you know."

"Let’s see. Little," he looked at the building and gestured checking a list, "Check."

"Please!"

"Green?" Look. "Well, green hair. Check."

"Men?" Look. "Check. You were saying, O Master of Logic?"

"But they’re not Czechoslovakins -they’re Oompah-Loompahs!"

Showdown

Max Evans and Maria DeLuca stood toe to toe; the town of Carter wasn’t big enough for the both of them.

"If you really want to see a movie, we can see another one," Max said.

"No." She began conversationally, "You know since Mom and the Sheriff’ve been dating, I’ve been spending more time with Chia the Jockstrap. He’s almost like a brother to me.

Max looked at her blankly.

She casually cracked her knuckles, "He taught me some moves. I’m fully prepared to fireman’s carry you into that theater."

He paled but didn’t back down. "I could take you."

"I smell your fear."

"No, I think that’s the popcorn from the theater. Yet another reason I’m not going in there."

"You promised me a good time," she pointed out.

"And we’ll have one. But it won’t include ‘Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.’"

"What’s wrong with Willy Wonka?"

"Say it five times fast."

"What’s wrong with Willy Wonka? It’s got got candy and good tunage."

"It’s not the movie I’m against. It’s the-"

"Orange-skinned, green men? Purple-suited Gene Wilder wannabies too much for you. So people dress up; it’s a revival, Max. No, it’s more than that. A cult film."

"Exactly what I was thinking...cult. Do you watch the news? Cult equals bad."

"You know what you are, Max. You’re a bigot."

She got closer to her face and licked her lips.

He squirmed, staring at her glossy lips. "No, I’m not." "

You’re prejudiced." She poked him in the chest.

"Stop that!"

She backed up, looked him squarely in the eye and brought her fists to her armpit.

"Bak! Bak!" She shouted exuberantly as she did the chicken dance around him.

"Maria," he said through his teeth. "Everyone is staring."

"Bak! Bak!"

"Uncle! I give." "Bak! Bak!"

"I gave up, now stop. The Ooompah-Loompahs are staring at you."

"Bak! Not until you join me! Bak! Bak!"

"Fine." No one knew them in Carter anyway. He half-heartedly flapped his "wings."

She nudged him.

"Bak! Bak!" This wasn’t so bad. He laughed and followed her into the theater, the sea of Willa Wonka wannabes parting in their wake.

***

"And I liked the part where Veruca was being a little prig and dropped down the reject chute. Bad egg," he shook his head and laughed.

They were walking on the drag again, "Glad to know you enjoyed the movie."

He blushed, "So maybe I overreacted."

"Maybe, yeah." She teased, happy to have converted him to one of her childhood favorites.

"Oh, and the part when Charlie and Grandpa Joe drank the pop and floated up to the ceiling. And that Slugworth, gee, what a bad guy!’

"It was awfully weird though, wasn’t it," he asked.

She giggled, "Just be glad it wasn’t the Rocky Horror Picture Show."

Visions of a black-leather clad, high-heeled Max Evans danced through her head. He’d make a sweet transvestite.

"Rocky Horror?" He blinked, "What’s that?"

She patted him on the cheek, "Next time. I don’t think you’re ready yet."

Or even better, Max in gold lame daisy dukes.

Oh, yeah.

...And Dinner

"Chunky Monkey. That’s just eloquence," Max nodded happily.

"I couldn’t eat something that was called that -it doesn’t sound like an cold, refreshing ice cream treat; it sounds like some delicacy that’s accompanied by a thick sauce of goat’s brains and a tall glass of rhino testicles." Maria grimaced. "Breyers Mint Chocolate Chip, now that’s an ice cream. No artificial green coloring, all natural ingredients. It’s minty and cool; it’s a nonchalant desert. Ice cream with attitude. I bet your carnivorous ice cream doesn’t even have chocolate in it."

"Blasphemy! I’ll have you know that the chunky in the monkey come from chunks of chocolate that are so huge they should be called continents of chocolate."

"Ha!"

"I see your ha, and raise you another. Ha ha!"

Maria giggled and then her stomach growled.

And Max’s answered.

"I think you’re trying to tell us something," he whispered to her conspiratorially. He patted his stomach, "Calm down, Al."

"You call your tummy Al?"

"Don’t you?"

"No, I call mine Bertha."

"Now, that’s just mean. I do believe, Miss Andress, that you are mocking me."

"You’d be right." She smiled, "But Al?"

"I was little!"

"Uh huh."

"When I was little and my mom would get sick, I’d stay with her. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how. There was this commercial or something that said, music heals all things. So the next time my mom felt bad and went to lie down, I sat down with her and drummed on her stomach to make her feel better. It was my tum-tum drum."

Maria coughed, "Gee, that’s cute. But what does that have to do with Al?"

"I’m not sure. I just felt like talking about it."

"I guess it was just the first in a long line of stomach fetish symptoms." She shook her head pityingly.

"I do not have stomach issues," Max said vehemently. He lifted his shirt and pointed at his abs, "See, perfectly normal."

Maria realized they were on one of the more populated streets in Carter and Max was flashing everyone. Then she looked.

And looked.

And looked.

"Maria," he asked. "They are perfectly normal, aren’t they?"

She jumped in surprise, "Hmnn, maybe they’re a little overdeveloped."

"Really? Because I can fix that."

"No! No! Don’t!"

"But if-"

"Max, just put your shirt down. Let’s find some place to eat."

"Well, what are you in the mood for? I think I saw an Italian place on the same street as the theater."

"Nah, not Italian. And no Mexican." Max nodded violently, too many memories of Senor Chow’s.

"Pizza," she said.

"Too common. Let’s be rebels."

"Oh! There was a Filipino place over by the place with the cheap shoes."

"Where?"

"Just follow me. I’ve never had Filipino food before," she grabbed his arm and took off at a dead run.

"It’ll still be there," he wheezed. "Let me breathe."

***

A little while later, they were seated in a booth and looking at menus.

"What’s den-ug-uan," she sounded out.

"I dunno, I’ve never had Filipino food either."

"Have to ask the waitress about that one," she said. "Lumpia? Oh, eggrolls. I like eggrolls."

"Eggrolls are good. Look at all the kinds of noodles. Sotanghon, bihon-"

"That’s it. We’re gonna need some help with ordering. I feel like I might make a mistake and order Chunky Monkey."

"Maria, the menu is in English."

"But there are no descriptions."

"Hey!"

"Just catching the crack now?"

"..."

"Magandang gabi. Kumusta ka?" Their waitress came to their table with their drink order. "Good evening. How are you? My name is Josie and I’ll be your waitress. Are you ready to order or do you need more time?"

"Josie, I think we need your help," Maria said.

"We’ve never had Filipino food before," Max added.

"Okay, do you mind," she asked and sat down after Maria scooted over in the booth.

"No problem, I’m a waitress, too. Feel free to cool your jets." Josie smiled, "So what kind of food are you looking for?"

"Something exotic -but not too exotic. Eggrolls." Josie nodded.

"What’s den-ug-uan," Maria said.

The waitress frowned then brightened.

"Den-u-gu-an. I don’t know if you’ll like that. I don’t even think I like it and my mom makes it. That’s meat in blood sauce."

"Would you be offended if I said, ugh?"

"I’d probably echo you. When I was little, my parents tried to convince me it was chocolate not blood."

"Gross."

"Exactly," Josie skimmed the menu. "How hungry are you?"

"We’re both starving," Max said.

"Okay. Rice comes with everything and that’s filling so we’ll start you off easy. I’ll give you some pancit. That’s vegetables with Cantonese noodles. And some adobo, that’s chicken with vingegar. And afritada which is pork stew with tomatoes, onions, and potatoes."

"And eggrolls," Max said.

"Okay," Josie stood and read off her list. "Lumpia, pancit, adobo, afritada."

"That’s it," Maria confirmed.

"Should be ready in about fifteen. Wave me down if you need refills, okay?" Josie left.

"She was nice," Maria said. "Glad we didn’t get the denuguan."

"Me, too." He fiddled with his silverware. "I’m having a good time."

"Me, too." She took a sip of water.

There were both silent for a minute.

"Excuse me," Maria said and stood up. "Ladies room."

She just had to get out of there for a bit.

"Okay with me. Be safe."

She looked at him strangely, "Be safe?"

"Uh-"

"Yeah." She went to the bathroom and stared in the mirror for a few minutes. Then she re-applied her lipstick and cleaned up her eyeliner.

"What am I doing here?" She wondered what Michael was doing.

She bumped into Josie on her way back to the table.

"Hey, I was just grabbing your food."

"Great timing. By the way, I’m Maria," Maria sniffed appreciatively. "Wow, that smells good."

"I wasn’t gonna steer you wrong, not with a guy like that at your table." Josie smiled. "He is hot, if you don’t mind me saying. How long have you two been together?"

"Oh, we’re not-," Maria felt a flash of possessiveness that was swiftly replaced by mischievousness. "Three months. This is our anniversary."

"Oh, that’s so sweet."

"Thank you," Maria said as Josie slipped into the kitchen.

***

"Three months. It’s our anniversary," she slid into the booth.

"Huh?"

"Just play along, okay, Soze."

Max gave in. "Okay."

Then he smiled archly as Josie approached the table with their food.

He stood up and slid in next to her. She looked up at him curiously.

"Just getting into the part," he said and put his arm around her.

"What are you up to?"

"Me, I’m innocent." He patted at the imaginary halo above his head.

"It’s crooked." He stuck his tongue out at her. "What’s up with the tricks, anyhow? I thought you liked our waitress?"

"I do. I’m just trying to keep you on your toes."

"My toes, huh?" He sniffed, "Wow, that smells good. Hi, Josie."

Their waitress carried a tray with a basket full of steamed white rice and separate plates of adobo, afritada, and eggrolls.

"I figured you two would want to try everything, so I tried to make it easy on you." She produced two empty plates.

"Oh, that’s okay, Josie. We’ll only need one of those. I like to feed Maria off my plate. She’s just so cute." He pinched her nose, one arm still around her.

Maria stepped on his toe.

Josie winked at him and deposited the plate. Maria elbowed him.

"Honey, don’t be so obvious. We’re in a public place. Heavy petting comes later."

Maria blushed in embarrassment. "You are not gonna feed me. That is the number one most disgusting thing people can do in public. Okay, maybe number three-," She narrowed her eyes at him, "Maxwell Evans, what are you up to?"

"Just keeping you on your toes." He held up a spoonful of rice and vegetables. "Now open wide."

***

Maria glared at Max.

He chewed slowly, savoring every bite. "

It’s so good." He shivered, "I’m all tingly."

She continued to glare.

"Are you sure you won’t try some?" He wagged the spoon in front of her.

She kept glaring.

Max started to move the spoon towards her mouth, then put it inside his own. After chewing, he groaned in happiness.

"Come on, Maria. All you have to do is ask," he said.

"I want my own plate."

"But, Honey, I just love you so much. And you’re so dainty, you could hurt yourself," he fluttered his considerable eyelashes for added effect.

"With a plate?"

"Oh, my delicate flower," Max said. He was really enjoying getting under Maria’s skin. "My sweetest rose, my trembling tulip, my dewdrop-covered daisy-"

She slammed her foot into his knee.

Max grinned at her. "Violent, aren’t we?"

"Just gimme a plate. I’m starved."

He took pity. "I suppose. But I’ve been bearing the brunt of your aggressive tendencies all night and this is going to stop."

"But I hit like a girl," she argued unconvincingly.

"A girl on steroids."

Maria was too busy eating too respond. "Ummm, good."

And that was all they said for some time.

***

"So, I guess we have some converts, here?" Josie came to refill their glasses.

Max and Maria nodded enthusiastically.

"Would you like a dessert? Something to share, maybe?"

"No," Maria said quickly. "Two, separate."

"Okay."

"Why don’t you pick something out for us," Max asked. "Surprise us."

"My pleasure," she said and walked away. Maria began to stacking the empty plates in the table corner.

"What are you doing?"

"I’m -oh." She put her hands in her lap.

Blushing a little, she answered, "I was bussing the table. Force of habit."

"No work tonight," he wagged his finger at her.

"But you’re working all summer?"

"Double shifts since school let out."

"Wow."

"Got nothing better to do. What about you, the UFO museum?"

"Only every Tuesday and Thursday since the tourists haven’t hit yet.

According to Milton, all the aliens are in hibernation at this time of year so he doesn’t need the extra help."

Maria nodded solemnly in agreement.

"Are you saving up for anything?"

"Not specifically. Some savings, some college -you know."

"What about fun stuff?"

"Like what?"

"..."

"Exactly. Except for clothes, I don’t really have much else to spend the cash on. Cost of living in Roswell isn’t exactly high."

"Good point," he nodded. "You could get a car."

"Blasphemer! I love the Jetta. No way I’d abandon that car for some shiny new model."

Josie arrived with two small heart-shaped brown cakes covered in syrup that had the consistency of Jell-O. "Flan," she explained. "Caramelized sugar and eggs, basically. It’s really sweet."

Maria slid her fork through one, "It’s melting in my mouth."

Max followed her lead. He closed his eyes and let the piece of cake dissolve.

"Why don’t we have one of these places in Roswell," Maria said after she’d devoured the flan.

"I know what you mean. I could eat here everyday."

"And I’d be right beside you." Max swallowed his last piece. "I never thought anything could taste better than cheesecake."

Maria rummaged through her purse and pulled out her wallet.

"Hey, this is my treat," Max said as she counted out bills.

"Who said I was going to pay?" Maria explained,

"This is for Josie’s tip. She deserves at least fifty percent."

"Good thinking." He picked their receipt off the table.

"What’s the damage?"

"Twenty even."

"Tasty and cheap? That’s it I’m moving here."

"Or at the very least, coming back."

***

"It’s getting late," Max said as they wandered around one of Carter’s parks,

"I know. But I didn’t want to say anything. I like it here."

"Yeah, I know. I feel different. Not normal, just sort of weightless."

"Are we getting to the serious part of tonight’s program," Maria asked. She didn’t want to wallow in mutual sorrow right now. The conversation about Liz and Michael and destiny was inevitable, she knew, but she didn’t want to talk about it now. Or at all.

"Huh? No. I was just trying to segueway into that swingset over there," he pointed. "You know, swinging, weightlessness?"

"Swingset, where?" Her head spun to see them,

"But there’s only one-"

Their eyes locked.

"Race you!"

She sped off. "No fair!" He quickly passed her.

Only to be tackled from behind. "Ooof!"

Before he could help himself, she grabbed his shoes off his feet and pitched them behind her.

"Cheater!"

"I got the swing, I got the swing!"

Max sat down in the grass next to the set while she luxuriated in the plastic swing, hands on the chains.

When he finished tying his shoes, she was looking down at him imperially.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Boy, push me."

"Off a cliff maybe."

"Boy, push me." She had her nose stuck up in the air now.

"Doesn’t the altitude hurt your nose?"

"Boy-"

"Gee, Maria, high maintenance, aren’t we," he said grumpily but went to stand behind her anyhow.

Maria looked at him curiously, "You mean you haven’t seen the Princess Bride?" "The what?"

"Princess Bride? Westley, Buttercup? Andre the Giant?"

She looked over his shoulder and saw that his face was blank.

"My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, now prepare to die?" He shook his head.

"Inconceivable!" Maria shook her head at him. "So let me get this straight: you haven’t seen the Rocky Horror Picture or the Princess Bride? You never saw Willa Wonka until today?"

"That’s right?"

"You had some sort of deprieved childhood, Soze. At least you watched Star Wars."

"Uh..."

She stood up from the swing then and held up her hand in a twisted version of the girl scout salute.

"I, Maria DeLuca the Stinky Biscuit Hyena Bond Girl, do so solemnly swear to educate Max Evans Willa Wonka Bigot and Maker of Goose Sounds before school startes."

He laughed, "You’re gonna give me the book learning?" "Yup. You got lots to learn, too."

"You think it’ll take a long time?"

"Eons."

He shuffled his feet, "Something like all summer?"

"Oh, longer. Much longer."

"So, um, you want to start tomorrow? My house? Blockbuster night?"

Maria blinked. That hadn’t been where was headed. She’d been thinking a few random tutoring session while she waited on him at the Crashdown.

"If you want to," she said carefully.

"Great," he said happily. "Now turn around so I can push you. Sooner your turn’s over, you can push me."

End of the Line

"Maria?"

She opened her eyes to find Max shaking her softly. He had rolled over on his side to look at her at an angle that had him leaning on her.

Eyes. What a completely inadequate word to describe what she was looking at. They were the color of creamy dark chocolate and so deep-

She tried but couldn't look away.

"Ma-ri-a," he sang quietly. "Your eyes are open, you can't fake sleep."

"Wha-"

"Vast improvement. I like my women verbal."

"Your-"

"Okay, monosyllabic still counts as verbal." His nose nearly touched hers. "It's almost three, Maria."

"Three?"

"Again with the one word sentences?" He quirked an eyebrow. "You fell asleep at about one-thirty."

She blinked. They'd played on the swing set and slide (both excellent opportunities to check out his attributes) and then played hide and seek, no small feat with only two people. A little tired, they'd wandered into a grove of pine trees and sat down to talk. When she'd reenergized, she dragged him under the branches of a huge pine tree. The boughs swept to the ground and it was so dark in there Max had cupped his hands to make a mellow blue light. She'd taken off her shoes and his, and they'd danced like spazzes on sedatives for a little while.

She didn't remember falling asleep in the grass with him.

Beside him.

He was looking at her.

"Oh."

"I thought you were supposed to be the talkative one."

"I thought you were supposed to be the quiet one."

"Touché. But it's nice to know you can talk again. He stood up, and held out a hand to help her.

They crawled out from under the tree and Maria stood up. But, still groggy, she almost collapsed in a boneless heap.

"Hey, now," Max said as he wrapped his arm around her waist to help her. "There'll be no fainting on my watch."

He effortlessly picked her up and cradled her in his arms.

"Max, I can walk." She yawned.

"Shh," he said. "I don't mind and I'd rather you not trip on an acorn and have some rabid squirrel put a hit on you."

"Oh, okay," she said sleepily and leaned into his chest. She looped one arm around his waist and another around his shoulder. "Just don't drop me."

Max chuckled and looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms. She looked so sweet and yawned so adorably he almost kissed her forehead.

The park was almost empty and not well lit. Carter seemed like a safe town, but he'd stayed alert while she napped just in case.

At least that was his excuse.

He hadn't even been bored. He had not twisted down into his usual circular miasma of cursing destiny and wanting Liz.

Max blinked. He hadn't thought of Liz since he'd picked up Maria.

***

Maria woke up again when they reached the car.

Sandwiched between Max and the car door.

All in all, not a bad place to be.

He still had hand on her waist, his hand dangerously brushing her butt. It kept her steady as he dug through his pocket.

"Aha," he said triumphantly and pullet out his keys. "Oh, you're awake."

She smiled shyly, "Morning."

He paused, realizing where his hand was. But he didn't move it because he simultaneously realized that her breasts and hips were pressed against him. Separated by a thin layer of black dress and his sweater.

Damn, he should've listened to Isabel and worn less clothing.

"Max," Maria asked. He looked mesmerized.

"Uh, yeah," he swallowed hard.

"You gonna stow that somewhere?"

He blushed and then noticed she was gesturing to the key in his hand.

She reluctantly squeezed herself out from between him and the door. He unlocked it and helped her up, even buckling her in.

"Thanks," she said. "Do you want me to drive?"

"Uh, no," he said after he walked around the front of the car. "I'd like to survive the trip. I didn't mean it like that. I just mean, you're awful sleepy and you need your rest if you want to get tips tomorrow."

"Did you have to remind me about work," she grumbled.

"Oh, hush, Grumpy the dwarf."

He waited for a snappy response but only got a little yawn.

***

Entering Roswell's city limits, Max thought Maria looked uncomfortable.

Cautiously he picked her head up from his shoulder and leaned her into her headrest. Then he found the appropriate lever and reclined her seat.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"I didn't mean to wake you. Sorry."

She sat her chair back up and moved to his shoulder. "I was just fine."

"Oh, okay."

"Unless this bothers you?"

"No, no," he shook his head.

"Good," she said contentedly. She looked out his window. "Oh, we're back."

She sounded disappointed.

"Yeah." He wished he could prolong the trip for her.

For me, Max corrected himself.

"Soze, you just passed my house."

"What, oh."

"Are you sure you're not tired. I can drive you home, you know."

"But what about my dad's car?"

"I can drop it off at your house before your dad goes to work and hoof it to the Crashdown."

"If you really don't mind," he said. He parked the car alongside the DeLuca mailbox.

"Hey, wait," he said as she opened her door.

"Ah, yes, Max the Gentleman." She obediently shut the door and locked it.

Max tried to open it.

She laughed at him.

He growled.

She dove for the keys in the ignition and locked the driver's side door.

When he had gotten there, he saw her sticking her tongue out.

He growled again. Then he passed a glowing hand over the lock.

She leapt in between the middle seats to the back. "You'll never catch me!"

He crouched down because of the low ceiling; he looked like a predator.

Maria licked her lips and thought, the kind of predator you wanted to be caught by.

She held the keys over her head and said, "Nanny nanny boo boo." .

Max lunged towards her but she shifted and he landed in her lap.

He took advantage of her surprise by grabbing the keys.

"Got them, ha!" He made the mistake of looking into her eyes instead of down the front of her chest.

Bad move. He suddenly remembered what his dad had said about his extended curfew. 'Only if you spend it in the backseat of the Navigator'

She couldn't pull her eyes away either.

"Uh, I guess I better go inside and get the keys to the Jetta."

"Uh, yeah." He got off her lap and opened a side door. He held it open for her when she stepped down and tried not to look when her hem rode up.

They walked silently down the walk to the door where she felt in her purse for her keys.

"Damn, I didn't turn the outside light on."

"Here," he held up his little finger and made a little light next to her purse.

"You're pretty handy with that light, Max. Any chance I can stick you on my key ring?"

And be carried around in your pocket all day? Sure.

She leaned forward to unlock the door just as he moved to get out of the way.

They ended up nose to nose.

Neither knew exactly what happened but they moved forward at the same time. Their lips met softly. It wasn't even really one kiss. It was lots of small tender kisses that just didn't have any space in-between them.

Touch. Touch. Touch.

Light flooded past their closed eyelids. They leapt apart as the front door lock made a clicking sound.

Amy DeLuca stood in the doorway, an eyebrow raised. "Did you have a good time, sweetie?"

"Uh. Uh."

Max recovered first. "Hi, I'm Max."

"I figured," she said dryly. "I'll just let you two finish your goodbyes. I'll be right here."

Maria finally looked at Max.

She shuffled her feet.

"Maria," he said tentatively and leaned in a little.

"Yes, Max?"

"Maybe it's best if I just drive myself home."

"Oh."

"You look tired."

"Yeah, you're right," she nodded.

"Great."

"But, are you sure? I mean I don't want you to fall asleep at the wheel."

"Right."

"Yeah."

"I'll call you."

"Sure." Like that wasn't something she heard a lot.

"When I get home. So you know that I'm fine."

"Good idea."

"Yeah."

Her mother coughed loudly in the background.

"So, uh, goodnight."

He shuffled his feet, "Yeah. Good night."

She shut the door quickly so she wouldn't have to watch him walk away.

***

When Max got home, Isabel was waiting up.

"So?"

"Huh?"

"How was it?"

"It was interesting."

"What'd you do?"

"Dinner. Movie. You know the usual."

She nodded her head but narrowed her eyes, "I want details."

"I'm sleepy," he evaded. "And I promised to call Maria."

"Maria? When did you see Maria?"

"She was my, uh, date."

Isabel blinked. "Does Michael know?"

"I didn't even know." He said it a little too forcefully.

He'd tried not to think about it on the drive. The date, the dancing...Maria.

He didn't know what he was doing.

"Okay," Isabel said, backing off.

He went to his room and drifted under the covers before picking up the cordless.

Then he got up and walked to his sister's room.

"Is?" He knocked softly.

She opened the door, now dressed in pink pajamas. "Ready to spill?"

"I just came for a phonebook."

"None here. Why?"

"I, uh, don't have Maria's number."

"I've got it somewhere," she offered but wisely didn't add any commentary.

She dug through her backpack for her organizer and flipped through it. "Here."

She handed him the black book open to a messily written page cramped with numbers.

He squinted and found it.

Then he burned Maria's number into his brain.

"Thanks," he shut the book and handed it back before padding back to his room. Maybe I shouldn't call, he thought, she's probably asleep.

No, I promised.

He slipped back under his covers and dialed.

It rang three times before he heard a breathy, "Hello?"

"Hi, it's Max."

"Ow."

"Ow?" Max knew he felt awkward (yet oddly comfortable) but that wasn't the response he'd expected.

"I'm trying to comb my hair. I just took a shower though and the comb refuses to run through it. Bad comb."

He smiled.

"But that's why the phone rang so many times. Had to jump out of the shower."

He tried not to think about that.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know I'm still alive."

"You foiled my plans," she teased.

"Yeah me," he smiled.

She yawned.

"Well, I'll let you go," he said.

"Okay, goodnight. Don't let the bedbugs bite. Sweet dreaming, Max."

"Goodnight," he began.

She hung up the phone.

"Sweet dreams, Maria," he whispered to the dialtone.

Disclaimers and Credits: "All by Myself" is the property of Eric Carmen and Sergei Rachmaninoff. "Great big tracts of land" is a reference to Monty Python's Search for the Holy Grail. Keyser Soze is from The Usual Suspects. Honey Ryder is a character from the James Bond franchise. "We're Off to See the Wizard" is from The Wizard of Oz. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is fiercely guarded by Fox and Joss Whedon. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory belongs to Roald Dahl and Warner Bros. Rocky Horror Picture Show is the property of Fox. The Princess Bride belongs to MGM and William Goldman. Star Wars was created by George Lucas.

Damn.

At six-thirty, she dragged herself out of her bed and into the shower.

Great, a big one and a half-hours of sleep.

Not counting of course, sleeping on Max’s shoulder.

The stream of water hitting her face turned cold.

It’s an omen. It’s a sign.

Don’t think about Max. Don’t think about Max.

Finally, seeing the shape the day would take, she mechanically soaped up and washed her hair.

Comfort clothes.

Cool, a plan.

She saw her black dress puddled on the floor.

Don’t think about Max.

No "M" words.

Wait, my name starts with an M.

Damn.

Twenty minutes gone already.

Damn.

She shed her pjs and threw on a baggy pair of white cotton jersey pants and an orange shirt that read, "Roswell City Department of Solid Waste Disposal." She’d cut a small V into the neck and ripped off the sleeves. Comfort clothes.

Luckily, she’d had the foresight yesterday to leave two pressed uniforms in her locker.

Five minutes to get to work.

Mr. Parker was gonna kill her.

Or maybe if she was lucky, he’d fire her.

Polish Film Buffs and Ferret Allergists

Four o’ clock and the day had not improved.

Maybe she was psychic.

Or maybe she’d subconsciously known because the Holiday Inn marquee had read "Welcome Ferret Allergists" and the one at Best Western greeted the National Society of Sight Gags in Polish Film.

Whatever that was.

"Miss?"

Some blonde, spiky-haired guy.

Spikes, no mental associations there.

"Yes?"

"Well," he leaned over to look at her name tag or was he checking out her chest? "Maria, I ordered pepperjack for my Galaxy Sub."

Pepperjack. Did that make him an allergist or film guy?

"I’m so sorry," she automatically apologized. "I’ll fix that for you right now."

"Oh, it’s no hurry." He was staring.

Definitely an allergist.

"No, really, I’ll be right back," she hurried away to the kitchen with his plate. "Yo, Jose."

"Jose’s on break," a familiarly gruff voice answered.

"Whatever," she said. "So that means you’re the one to blame."

"Don’t start with me."

"Don’t be so conceited," she surprised herself.

Whoa, when did I get a backbone.

Wait, when did lose it?

"This is business, pally. I need pepperjack on this sub."

"Do it yourself."

Looks down at her alien-faced apron, "Looks like I’m wearing a waitress outfit."

She looked up at his greasy do-rag, "And you look like a cook! Imagine that?"

He grabbed the plate from her and stacked the cheese on.

"Thank you," she smiled brightly and carried the order back.

She checked the status on the rest of her section after depositing it at the spiky guy’s table.

Refills, refills.

La la la la la.

When had she lost her backbone, she thought as she went around with the pitcher of iced water.

***

Six o’ clock and she still hadn’t had anything to eat except for the biscuits and gravy she’d had during her morning break.

La la la la la.

She stacked up dirty dishes, dumped silverware into glasses, and put both piles in the tub.

We really need busboys.

She dropped it off in the dishroom and walked tiredly back to the dining room.

The summer dinner rush wouldn’t start until eight since the convention-goers were still doing their thing.

"Maria?"

"Hey, Mr. Parker."

Ooh, he was carrying a clipboard. Could it be?

"Sweetheart, I was wondering if you’d do the inventory for me? Lizzie usually does it." He leaned in conspiratorially, "I hate inventory."

Let’s see. Back room where a lot of walking wasn’t possible. The possibility of sitting down. No customers.

"Sure," she grabbed the clipboard, the stopped in midstep. "But what about the front room?"

"I can handle it until the end of your shift."

"I’m double-shifting."

"Oh, I forgot to ask you. How set are you on that schedule?"

"I’m not gonna cry if you trim me back a couple hours."

"Great. I hired another waitress and she’s coming in at seven. So you can get off then."

"Really?" She tried not to sound too eager.

"Sure, come in tomorrow at the regular time and we’ll see about rearranging your schedule. Now, scoot back there to do the inventory."

"Okay, thanks, boss," she said.

"Better you than me," he shuddered.

***

Max woke up to Isabel holding a squirt gun to his head.

"Wake up. Now."

He pulled the pillow over his head and moaned in anguish, "Go away."

"Wake up. Now."

"Why am I cursed with women who talk back."

Cruelly, she grabbed the pillow away.

"I know you’re not talking about Liz. Spill it."

"Bitca!"

"What did I say about borrowing my Buffy tapes?"

"I never-"

"You’re trying to change the subject," she said. "You were out awfully late, Max."

"So. You complain that I spend too much time here. You complain I spend too much time out. Make up your mind."

She stood up, "You can’t hold out for long. I know you. Now, go clean up."

"Why?"

"We’re gonna go practice in the desert with Michael and Tess."

"What do you mean we?"

"You got plans?"

"..."

"Didn’t hear you."

"Maybe I just don’t want to be around them, okay?"

She looked at him sympathetically as she walked out of the door, "I can live with that. You’ll be lonely though. Mom and Dad have some dinner to go to in Clovis. Sure you don’t want to come with?"

Maria. Empty house. Movies. TV and VCR in his bedroom. Bedroom meaning bed. Which was nice and soft like-

If he was in his right mind, he’d run from Roswelll.

"Nah, I don’t really feel up to it. You go ahead without me."

You're Thinking Way Too Hard

As Maria counted bottles of dressing in the dry stock room, she let her mind wander.

Last night had been great.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that good.

Granted, Michael’s kisses had always made her feel all gooey and melty inside but so did Max’s. Their kisses were different. Michael’s were always rough and grope-y, exciting but never transcending into an emotional expression that wasn’t lust.

Max, he seemed like a man with range. Grope-y Max.

She shivered, aliens had ruined her lips for any humans.

Plural.

Aliens.

One of which belonged to someone else.

Liz.

Oh, god she was a man-stealer.

She was turning into Isabel!

***

Seven-thirty.

Seven-thirty. Fifteen seconds.

Max looked at his watch.

Twenty seconds.

He began to pace.

Maybe she was forgot.

She was tired last night.

Maybe she wasn’t coming.

But, she’d said...

Maybe he’d done something to change her mind.

He made a mental checklist: tag, dancing, incredible kissing.

Kissing.

Okay, not like it’d slipped his mind.

Like those kisses weren’t permanently stuck there.

Maybe she hadn’t liked them.

Had she really kissed him back?

Was it all in his mind?

He molested her, he must disgust her.

Right?

Okay, we’ll forget about the incredible kissing right now.

Lips.

Lips.

Liz.

Maria’s best friend.

Girl he was supposedly in love with.

She was probably calling Liz and telling her what a jerk he was right now.

He wasn’t sure why he was more upset about Maria than about Liz.

Why he didn’t feel more guilty.

Liz.

Liz.

Liz.

Lips.

Stop!

Michael.

Michael.

Maria.

He didn’t want to lose any of them.

It’s just a crush.

She’s attractive (breathtakingly beautiful).

You’re lonely.

Of course you’re attracted to her (smitten to the point of pining).

It’s transference.

She’s the closest thing to Liz (closest thing to perfect for you).

It’s just a crush, he chanted.

And you have to stop.

Because then you’ll lose her.

And Liz and Michael.

Her ground his teeth in frustration.

I’m going to stop. (I’m going to have her however I can.)

Maybe it wasn’t too late to go with Isabel.

Taking Stock of the Situation

Maria was still at the Crashdown past eight o' clock.

Really, she thought. Just how many bottles Cheese Sauce de Abeuelito Ernesto con Queso did the Crashdown need?

Granted the product could make almost anything palatable (pardoning the name) but-

A tremor and Maria found herself shaking on the tiled floor.

Whoa.

Then she realized that there weren't sacks of flour or burger buns dropping on her head.

Okay.

If the rest of the world didn't shake, but I did.

That can't be good.

Probably just exhaustion and hunger, she thought.

Well, since I'm down here.

She began to count the packets of jelly.

A hand closed on her shoulder and she met the floor again.

Definitely easier on the butt when you're already sitting down.

The same hand helped her up. Brushing her skirt off, she looked up.

Max.

No "M" words!

"Maria?"

"No 'M' words!"

"What?"

"No 'M' words!"

He gave her a strange look, "Okay, then, Honey-"

She opened her mouth to speak.

He wagged his finger at her, "Uh uh, that's an H word."

She closed it.

"Now, are you okay?"

She regained her composure, remembered that you didn't have to voice everything you were thinking.

"Yeah, yeah. You just surprised me is all. No need to go all touchy-feely with the happy glowing hands."

Wait, I didn't mean that.

"Actually," she began. "It does sort of hurt right here."

Max gulped. Maria was pointing to a point on her chest.

In the exact center.

And being in the center meant you had to be between something, right?

Two somethings.

Two very definite somethings.

What was that saying? It's a tough job but somebody's got to do it?

Max took a deep breath.

"Hey," Maria said, "I was just kidding. Tip-top shape here."

Tactical error, she thought.

Not that I was tactic-ing in any way.

Because that would be a sign of wanting.

Nope. No tactic-ers here.

Tacticians.

Whatever.

Did he look relieved or disappointed?

"So," she said casually. "What are you doing in my neck of the woods?"

"Someone sat in my chair, ate all my porridge, and slept in my bed. You know anything about that, Goldilocks?"

"No, sir," she shook her head. She patted her stomach pitifully. "Poor Bertha hasn't had anything since eight."

"We should fix that."

"That's okay, she said. She really should get away from here. He was affecting her. "I've been here all day, I'm not really up for eating here, too."

"Who said anything about eating here?"

She looked confused. "Isn't that why you're here. In the restaurant? To eat?"

"No," he said slowly.

"Okay. Didn't get enough of the tacky alien theme at the Museum, so you decided to come here?"

"I didn't go to the-," Max shook his head. "You're getting me off track, Honey."

She shrugged, "I'm tangential. I am of the tangent. Take me to your leader."

"I am the leader," he coughed. I came to see you. I thought we had plans."

"Oh," she paused. "I thought those plans were more metaphysical than...physical."

Oh.

I guess she probably hasn't been obsessing about incredible kissing all day.

Not like I thought about it that much.

Only while I was breathing.

When he looked into her face again, Max found her expression was soft.

Unconsciously, he had pulled out the big guns: the puppy dog eyes.

She pointed to the clipboard, "I have to finish taking inventory first."

"I'll help," he began to count the bags of potatoes.

She grinned and took stock of the napkins.

Which happened to be right next to the potatoes.

And it was nobody's fault if they happened to bump into each other ever so often, right?

The Problem With Rentals

"'Patch Adams,' 'A Perfect Murder,' 'Poltergeist,' Pride and Prejudice'..."

"Princess Bride!" Maria grabbed the box out of Max's hands and danced up and down the aisles of the video store.

Max breathed a sigh of relief. There seemed to be a run on the Princess Bride tonight; they'd been to five stores and had been greeted with empty cases each time.

He'd told Maria it was okay; they could watch another movie.

The look of steel in her hazel eyes cut him off in mid-speech.

Silently he left Blockbuster and was waiting patiently by the Jetta when she came out.

Which had eventually brought them to Alien Autopsies 'R Us. In addition to the one thousand abduction and autopsy tapes, they also boasted a small closet of 'regular' videos.

A closet so small she had to stand directly in front of him, no more than an inch away.

Enclosed spaces, they were becoming a habit.

Which was fine with him.

As they left the section he said, "They really came through. We should get all our videos here."

Maria blinked, did he just imply they'd be spending time together on a regular basis?

Play it cool, girl.

"Oh, look, they even have a porn section! How can they have an alien porn section, Max?" She turned to him innocently.

Way to play it cool.

"Uh, I don't think we're all old enough to go in there."

"Come on, Max, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Back in the How to Martian Rock Climb section."

Unflappable, she took his arm and led him into the section.

They both stopped cold.

There were posters of naked purple-skinned aliens with uncountable appendages and stand-ups and scantily clad one-eyed, many-breasted women.

The carpeting was cheap imitation bear skin.

Max winced.

"We Come In Penis," Maria snorted. "Ew! Ew!"

Max turned green.

"The Red Probe Diaries. Ugh. I don't even want to touch the case."

"Short Blonde Earth Girls and the Extraterrestrials Who-"

Max dragged her bodily out of the section to the register, blushing all the way.

"Joke! It was a joke," she pleaded.

He still wouldn't look at her.

"Max..."

"..."

"Max," she whispered. "I dropped the tape."

He was afraid to ask, "Where?"

"By the, uh, purple lizard man with all the spikes."

"..."

"So if you'll just let go of my arm, I'll go get it."

"..."

"Arm, please," she said tentatively.

"You, stay," he growled. "I'll go."

He huffed all the way back to the adult section. He wasn't really mad. He was just...sort of frustrated.

How was a guy supposed to ignore his growing attraction when said desirable object was pointing out...

It was like she didn't even care about his feelings.

She was so insensitive.

But so cute.

He picked up the tape and realized how stupid he was being.

"Short Blonde Earth Girls. Ha!" He shook his head with laughter.

Then he cackled.

He was gonna get her back good.

The Princess of Pepperonni, The Queen of ?

"Hey," Maria said as she pulled into the Evans' driveway. "Where are all the cars?"

"..."

"You're still not talking to me?"

"..."

"Please, Max."

His expression was grim.

She walked to the passenger side and opened the door. Squatting, she looked up at him.

"Oh, sweetie, don't be nervous about your first day of school. I just know Jimmy and all the kids have forgotten about you peeing the bed."

He began to crack.

"Soon, the other kids will start playing with you again and they'll invite you over to spend the night. Of course, you'll have to bring your own sleeping bag."

Max began to smile.

Maria pressed on, "And I already told the teacher about the paste-eating, so she's under strict orders only to give you tape."

He turned to face her and with a perfectly straight face said, "But, mommy, what if the crayons attack me again. They're trying to take over the world and only I can stop them."

He smiled at her like a big, brave boy.

Maria fell on her butt laughing.

Regally, Max stepped over her and went to unlock the door.

***

Max was being a weenie.

As he waited for Maria to collect herself, he debated.

Living room. Bedroom.

Living room. Bedroom.

This was critical decision-making

What he chose today would set the pattern for the rest of the summer.

Hopefully, longer.

Living room.

Be strong, Max thought.

Think about other things.

Like how to get back at Maria.

His little, "I'm not gonna talk to you cause you're mean and I don't have to take it" ploy had worked like a charm.

She thought he wasn't upset anymore.

Okay, he wasn't but that wasn't the principle.

She deserved what she got.

And she'd never see it coming.

Years of living with Isabel had not left him unscarred. Not that his little sister wasn't sweet and charming, but she was also the Queen of Payback.

And he'd learned through victimization.

Oh, Maria was playing with the big boys now.

And it was all about distraction.

***

Maria walked into the front hall and looked around with curiousity.

Sure, she'd been in the Evans' house before.

But that was usually picking up or dropping Michael off so it wasn't ever more than a few minutes.

It was cozy, sort of a soft Southwestern-theme. But that was to be expected in New Mexico.

"Max? Ohhhh, Maaax?"

"I'm in here," he shouted.

She wandered through the living room into the kitchen where she finally found Max digging through a cupboard.

"Whatcha doing?"

He moved to the fridge and pulled onions, peppers, and mushrooms out the crisper. "You're hungry."

"Yes, we established that. But I thought we were gonna do the whole call out for Chinese or nuke a pot pie deal."

She eyed the vegetables and chopping board warily. Did he expect her to cook?

Cause it didn't matter how nice his...

Visually distracted for a moment, her thoughts crept off.

"Well, I was going to make some soup."

Oh. "You can cook? Do all aliens cook?" Michael cooked. "Does Isabel cook?"

"Izzy makes a mean barbeque."

She couldn't imagine Isabel standing over a grill, smeared with rib marinade.

"Wow." She sat on the island, watching him dice tomatoes . "So what's the soup du jour?"

"Pizza soup. You like pepperoni?"

"I am the Princess of Pepperoni," she mock-curtseyed from her seat. "Uh, you want me to help?"

She didn't really want to but it was only polite.

He frowned, "You've been working all day, Maria."

"Cool, because I was just trying to be nice." H

e smiled and flourished a cheese grater, "I live but to serve, Pepperoni Princess. Just sit back and relax, okay?"

No, no. I feel like doing more work.

She smiled back and propped herself up on her elbows.

"Do you wanna talk or do you need to concentrate?"

"Talk's good," he dumped all the chopped vegetables into a frying pan. Then he produced a large jar of tomato sauce and set it to boil on the stove with water. "This shouldn't take a long time, anyhow."

"Okay." She watched him slice the pepperoni and drop it into the tomato sauce. "What have you been doing all summer?"

"Oh, vegging much to the disgust of my sister."

"She's not one of those people who gets up at dawn even though she doesn't have to, is she?"

"To jog," he nodded.

"Ugh. Alex does that, too," she scrunched up her nose in distaste.

Alex, huh? He filed that away in his mental Izzy Folder. "I'm one of the sleep til the sun goes down people myself."

"Preach on, my brother," she high-fived him. "Not that I've been doing that lately."

Max began to dump the vegetables into the soup base, "We always go on a vacation for a few weeks."

"Oh. That's neat."

"You going anywhere?" Please don't leave, Maria. Don't leave me here by myself. With Tess.

"I have some vacation time coming up but Mom always has to run the store. Alex is pretty busy setting up gigs with his band, and I don't want to go anywhere by myself so-"

"I'll go with you," he said a little too quickly. Please leave, Maria. And take me with you.

Bad thoughts, Maria. Bad thoughts. Stop. Max equals Liz. Stop.

"Ooh, cheese. Pretty," she pointed at the boiling pot.

"You and cheese, Maria." Max shook his head with laughter. "Fixate often?"

"Oh? Tell me more, Mr. Free of Food Fetishes," she batted her eyelashes. "Don't think I didn't notice you pour in like two cups of sugar in with the peppers."

"It was more like a spoonful! A baby spoonful."

"What about the chocolate syrup," she raised an eyebrow.

He blushed and ducked his head shamefaced.

Maria leapt down from the island and flexed her muscles. In a deep cartoon voice she said, "You thought you could defeat me, foul villain! I am the Princess of Pepperoni! And I'm going to go medieval on your-"

Max twitched an imaginary mustache and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Ah, but you haven't seen my secret weapon, Princess Goody Two Shoes! You cannot foil my scheme, because I am," he paused dramatically, "the Soup-er Villain!"

Maria cracked from her superhero voice, "The Soup-er Villain?"

He brandished his wooden spoon and threw an oven mitt at her, "I throw my gauntlet!"

She struck a pose, missing only a cape flapping in the wind.

He scrambled for the oven mitt and pointed it at her, "I will slag you with my Mega Deluxe Soup Ray of Death." Then in his regular Max voice he said, "comes in both original black and pink leopard print."

Maria performed intricate-looking karate moves while she said, "Ha! I ha! at your Ray of Death because I have," she looked around and grabbed the closest object, "a Ray of Death Reflecting Measuring Cup!"

Max made a buzzing noise and advanced on her. He made a different buzzing noise (Max Evans had an extensive vocabulary of buzzing noises.) directed at her.

She raised the Pyrex cup to shield herself and then ran at him. They tumbled to the floor, Maria mock-pounding Max. He moved his head from side to side as if in great pain. Obligingly, Maria wildly swung the glass from side to side.

Tears began to run down Max's face as he shook with laughter. She dropped the glass and began to tickle his ribs.

"St-St-Stop!" Max stuttered. "Ti-ti-argh!" Max bucked as Maria tickled his underarms, sending Maria flying over his head. She landed on her butt safe but with such a bewildered look that Max couldn't stop laughing.

Maria picked herself up, "Oh, yeah! You think that's funny?"

He doubled over, "Definitely humorous."

She launched herself at him in a perfect arc, grateful that the Evans family had a big kitchen.

He made a heaving "poof" noise when she landed, straddling his stomach. "Where's your stupid soup-er destructo weapon now? Huh?"

Max looked towards his left at the discarded spoonjust out of arm's reach. He squinted, willing the spoon into his hand.

But she slapped his hand lightly and wiggled distractingly, "None of that nose-wiggling on my watch! Do you give? Do ya?"

Sighing, he said, "Uncle." He held out his hands, "Cuff me, officer."

Instead of helping Max up, Maria stood up and ran around the kitchen island in a little victory dance, "And the Pepperonni Princess is undefeated! The crowd goes wild as she womps on the Not So Soup-er (or Original) Villain!"

A cool voice interrupted Maria's dance and Max's pealing laughter, "That's nice. It's so refreshing to see good triumph over evil these days."

She looked towards the stove, "Soup's on? Cool, we were hungry."

And then Isabel, notiorious Ice Princess and Queen of Payback, stepped out of the doorway to reveal Tess and Michael.

A Little Harmless Hand-holding

Max picked himself up off the floor, wincing inwardly.

"Hey, sis," he grated out. "I thought you had plans."

Isabel answered back, equally irritated, "Well, there were some developments." She turned towards Maria then, "Hi there."

"Right back 'atcha," Maria was eying the closest exit. Unfortunately Tess and Michael blocked it. And they were standing awfully close to each other...

"You understand don't you, Maria?" Isabel wasn't really asking a question, she was issuing a dismissal and Maria was not too proud to accept it.

"Of course, of course. Martian business, I'll just be going."

"Wait," Max broke in. "Let me just get you some soup."

"No, that's-"

"I made it for you."

"I guess." She looked towards the doorway again.

Where was his hand?

Maria let out a small gasp as she realized Michael and Tess were attached at the wrist.

First Max, now Michael? Girl sure did get around, didn't she?

"Here you go," Max returned, handing her a tupperware bowl.

"It smells great, thanks."

He walked her the door, whispering, "The video's not due back til tomorrow. I'll call you tonight, okay?"

"Raincheck it is, then," she said, smiling falsely. She strode towards the Jetta quickly so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.

***

Max turned to find Isabel behind him.

"Did you have to be so rude?"

"What? Interrupt a private interlude?" Isabel's face softened. "Look, I'm sorry about that. But it's been a rough day. Dealing with those two. Can we talk about Maria later?"

"Who said we were gonna talk about Maria?"

"Later," Isabel pleaded. She thumbed in the other aliens' direction,"There's something you're going to want to hear."

Max looked into the kitchen -Michael and Tess were hugging?

And where was her hand?

Max fumed, what was she doing putting her claws in what belonged to Maria?

And what was Michael doing, letting her?

And had Maria seen?

Sure, he admitted to himself, he wanted Maria. But she wanted Micheal and didn't want her to hurt. Is that why looked so sad? Not because we had to raincheck, but because of Michael?

Of course.

He steeled himself to talk some sense into Michael. He'd tell thewayward idiot how Maria way outclassed Tess -the hussy. Maria was prettier, sweeter, smarter, sexier, funnier...

And Max wanted her.

But Maria doesn't want you, a little voice sniveled into his ear.

Again, he steeled himself. He was gonna get Michael to crawl back to Maria on his knees. Because Maria deserved it.

Alex's Butt

Maria drove home silently, the air conditioner off and windows rolled up.

The funny thing was...she wasn't that upset.

Or upset at all.

There was a big honking lack of upset actually.

Her laughter sounded odd in the quiet of the Jetta.

A week ago, she would've been crushed.

But she'd a week to think and otherwise wallow in her depression. She'd come to the conlcusion that she and Michael just couldn't make each other happy. They were both too proud, too tempermental. It was a hundred different things.

And one week ago, she'd never experienced Max.

It was so weird. She'd always thought of him as the dork geek-albeit with the body of a greek god. They spent time together, of course, dating each other's best friends and being chased by the FBI but they didn't really know each other.

She hadn't imagined he could be so much fun.

Liz had told her many time but she'd never believed it. Then again, Liz always mentioned fun in the context of beakers and celsius.

But Max was so much more than she'd expected.

And so much nicer than Michael Guerin.

Still, the alien factor...

Oh, the point was moot anyway. Because of Liz. And Max was in love with Liz.

But a little fantasizing wouldn't hurt anyone.

And who else was going to help her survive the summer?

Okay, well, Alex...

Do I need to justify myself? We're friends, we have fun.

And Alex's butt isn't nearly as much fun to look at.

Conversation

It had taken a little time, but Isabel had arranged them all around the family's dinner table with bowls of hot soup in front of them.

Max waited for someone to say something, all the while, staring at Michael and Tess's interlocked hands.

Finally Isabel blurted out, "They're moving in together."

Max shot a mouthful of mushrooms and pepperonni across the table onto Michael's face.

"Excuse me? Isn't that moving a little fast?" Michael was afraid to commit to Maria, yet he was going to live with Tess.

"Well, no," Tess said. "It's only natural."

Max gagged.

"We're brother and sister after. Family should live together."

"Family?" Oh, oh! That was okay then. Even if the handholding thing was freaky. They should really stop that.

"And I live in that great big house by myself," Tess went on. "Maybe, you know, Max, you could come over." Tess batted her eyelashes, "and save me from loneliness."

Isabel smirked at Max, she'd had to deal with Tess's simpering all day. It was his turn.

"No," Max said, "you and Michael bond."

Michael had been quiet up til now, he slurped up the last of his soup. "That's a great idea, Maxwell. Me and my sister'll just go home now. Gotta move my stuff in tomorrow."

Tess and Michael stood together and left, leaving Max gaping at Isabel.

"Do we act like that?"

"It is disturbing, isn't it?"

"You know what I thought?"

"I can guess."

"You encouraged it!"

"I was in a bad mood!"

"You didn't have to take it out on Maria."

Isabel sighed, "Okay, you're right. I didn't have to."

"You gonna apologize?"

"I dunno, maybe." They moved into the living room.

Max looked at his sister closely, "You doing okay, Izzy?"

"It's just been a rough day, you know." She picked the video case off the coffee table. "Princess Bride? Can we watch this?"

Max frowned apologetically, "I'm supposed to watch it with Maria."

"Oh. That's okay." Isabel turned to face him, "You know you've been spending an awful lot of time with her lately."

"Two days."

"Still."

"Do you think I shouldn't be?"

"Well, no," Isabel smiled. "It's just a little weird."

"What's so weird about me and Maria?"

"So there's a you and Maria?"

"We're friends. I'm gonna get Michael back for her." Max felt defensive.

"So that's what it is. I don't think you should do this."

"Do what, little sister?"

"Use Maria. You think if you hook her and Michael up, she'll help you out with Liz?"

"No! That's not it at all. I'm not even thinking about Liz."

"I hope not, don't hurt her, okay."

"Still feel bad about those dreams?"

Isabel got defensive, too. "They weren't my fault. But, yeah, you know, she won't even talk to me." Isabel sighed, "I like her."

"Me, too."

"I noticed."

"What's that supposed to mean."

Isabel looked at her brother closely. He doesn't know yet, she thought.

Seriously, Isabel asked, "If I talk, will you listen?"

"Sure."

"I never really liked Liz. I didn't like what you were like when you were with her. You weren't Max, my brother."

He opened his mouth to interrupt.

"No, you said you'd listen. It was like you had Liz on this pedestel, you thought she was so perfect. And so when you're with her, it's like you have to be perfect, too. But that's not you. You hid so much of yourself, Max." Isabel smiled. "But when I came in, I saw you with Maria and it was like you were really comfortable. Not fake-o Max. You were laughing and joking just like you do with me and mom and dad and Michael. You never did that stuff with Liz. It was all, gotta be perfectly smart, perfectly serious, perfectly romantic. You were like a robot.'

"I'm not saying that you and Maria need to do anything because God knows what dating Michael has done to her. But I am saying that I like you when you're with her because you act real. You act like my brother who used to stick peanut butter between my ties while I was sleeping. You act like my brother who used to watch Saturday morning cartoons with Michael. And I want to keep you like that. I missed you."

Max hugged Isabel close, "I'm sorry, Izzy. I didn't know."

She pulled away, "It's okay."

"We'll spend lots of time together this summer."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"No peanut butter though?"

"Sure."

"And Michael time, too?"

"Even if Tess has to come."

"They need to stop holding hands."

Max defended them, "They're new at the brother-sister thing."

Isabel smiled, "They should take lessons from us."

Joint Venture

The soup was surprisingly good and it was gone by the time Alex dropped by Maria's house.

A regular at the DeLuca house, he'd swooped into the kitchen without knocking. Leaning against the formica counter, he commented, "Where you been all day? I called to see if you wanted to jam."

"You know me, work, work, work. It's like I'm in a chain gang."

"No, seriously, I stopped by the Crashdown for dinner. Mr. Parker said you got off early. Which was bad for me because I got stuck with new waitress. She'd be sort of hot if her skin wasn't so splotchy and dry." Alex made a face, "So did you have a hot date?"

"That was last night," she said teasingly.

"Ooh, do tell." Alex leaned forward, "And does he have a sister?"

"Actually, yeah."

"Is she single?"

"Uh-," Maria delayed.

"Gotcha," Alex said. Then he smiled goofily, "Guess what time of year it is, DeLuca?"

She squealed, "Sno cones and slip and slide?"

"I've been dragging them along in the car all day."

"Sorry about that. You think the 'ole Snoopy machine still works?"

"I dunno, it hasn't been the same since you dropped back in the sixth grade-"

"That was not my fault! Lizzie tripped me!"

"Only because you refused to let her have the first sno cone of the summer."

"Don't act like you were totally innocent, Mr. 'it's my Snoopy, I should get the first one.'"

"A truth that holds today."

"I painstakingly hand-cranked that sno cone! Do you think ice just goes and shaves itself?"

Alex snorted, "Now, you're pushing it."

"How about we share the first one of the season?"

They spit on their palms, then slapped their hands together.

The phone rang, Maria picked it up. "DeLuca-Whitman Sno Cone Emporium."

Max's rich laugh answered her, "Hey, Maria."

"Thought you were busy?" She tried to ignore Alex. He mouthed, 'The hot date?'

"Nah, things cleared up. Do you want to watch the movie tonight?"

"I already made plans with Alex."

Alex frowned and said, "I know him?"

Maria shushed him.

"Why don't you bring him, too?" He paused, "If you don't mind Isabel watching with us, too?"

Maria thought about it. "Will anyone else be there?"

"You mean Tess and Michael? No. They left. I did want to talk to you about that-"

"Not on the phone, okay, Max."

Alex's jaw dropped, "Max? Max Evans?"

"Hey, Soze, how about I call you back in a minute?"

"Take all the time you need."

"Thanks," Maria hung up the phone and looked at Alex. "Up for a flick?"

To be continued...

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