Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story are based on the television series Roswell, which was created by someone who is not me!

Distribution: Just e-mail me!

Summary: When Max is kidnapped it is up to Liz and the gang to rescue him.

Continuity/Spoilers: Begins at the end of Blind Date. Some of Independence Day is included as well.

* * *

Max Evans stepped out of the club, not entirely sure where he was. The last thing he remembered was taking a sip from Kyle's flask in front of Chez Pierre. How he came to be up on stage in a club kissing Liz - yes, he had kissed her - he had no idea. He felt guilty about running out of there like that, but he was only acting on instinct. There was something in the way Liz had looked at him, a light in her eyes. Did he really mean all of those things he said? What could he possibly have said to her?

He stopped at a pay phone and called home. Isabel wasn't there and he couldn't exactly explain his whereabouts to his parents. There was no answer on her cell phone either. He would have to walk home.

Max didn't get very far before he noticed that he was being followed. All the years of hiding had made him hyper-aware of his surroundings. He turned his head ever-so-slightly to see a black van slowly rolling down the street, keeping pace with him. This was a bad sign. He kept his gaze forward and turned the corner. The van turned and kept right on following. This was a very bad sign. He sped up his pace, walking faster and faster until he was in a full-out sprint. The van kept coming. He ran as fast as he could, looking for a doorway, a passage, any place he could run to where they would not follow. Desperate, he turned down a deserted alleyway. Dead end. Trapped.

The van parked in the opening of the alley, blocking his only escape route. For a moment Max considered using his powers to open a hole in the wall or disable the vehicle - anything to get out of there - but it was too risky. He just stood there with the headlights focused on him, out of breath from running so hard. He concentrated on trying not to look as panicked as he felt. It was like living his worst nightmare.

The side door of the van slid open and a figure stepped out, a woman. Max felt the lump in his throat grow to the size of a grapefruit when he saw her. Topolsky.

"Hello, Max," she said with a satisfied, Cheshire grin.

"M...Miss Topolsky. What are you doing here?"

"Come on, now," she said, walking towards him. Her black heeled boots clicked and echoed in the narrow alley with each step. "Let's not play these games."

He took an uneasy step back. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've had a very eventful evening tonight so I won't waste your time. You know who I am and why I came here back in September." Without looking, she held her hand out to the van behind her. A man dressed in a black suit came out of the passenger's side and handed her something. "Well, I know who you are too, Mr. Evans. And now I have proof."

Max looked incredulous. "Proof?"

Topolsky held in her hand the smallest video camera Max had ever seen. She turned the flat view screen towards him so he could see what they had recorded. "Proof, Max. I've been following you for a while now, just waiting for something like this to happen. And tonight I struck gold."

Max could not believe what he saw on the video screen. He watched himself create a ladder out of nothing, draw a huge red heart on Liz's wall with just his finger, turn a street lamp into a disco ball and parking meters into fountains of fireworks. No wonder Liz had looked at him like that.

He pointed at the screen and took a defiant stance. "That's... none of that is real. I don't remember doing any of those things."

"Oh, it's real. Real enough to convince my superiors to reassign me to this case. Now I'm going to have to ask you to come with us." She waved her hand and the man standing behind her approached Max menacingly. He was soon joined by another similarly attired man from inside the van. Max tried to run, but it was no use. The men flanked him on each side, grabbing his arms. They turned him back to face Topolsky. "Sweet dreams, lover boy," she said. The last thing Max saw was the top of her boot coming up to meet his face.

* * *

Liz sat on her balcony under an Indian blanket, gazing at the stars. She didn't feel like writing in her journal. She didn't feel like doing much of anything. Her eyes fell on the large red heart painted on the brick wall next to her. "M.E. + L.P." That said it all. Was he telling the truth about not remembering anything he said earlier that night? It didn't matter, really. Because when Max kissed her she had had a vision. In that moment she knew how he felt about her. It was warm and loving and wonderful. He would come around eventually. She just had to give him time.

The next day was Sunday. Liz went about her usual work routine though her head and heart were somewhere else. Secretly she hoped Max might come by to see her, but there was no sign of him. She would have to wait until school the next day.

Insomnia kept her awake all that night. The thought of seeing Max again after what she knew just made her too anxious to sleep. She kept imagining a scenario where she would tell him about her vision and how he couldn't hide his true feelings from her. Then he would tell her she was right and he'd been miserable since the night they broke up. She'd assure him that she understood that he needed some time because she knew how much he loved her. Then she would tell him she loved him too and they would share a kiss. The whole scene played over and over in her head like a movie. Rewind. Play back. Rewind. Stop.

There was a tug, somewhere at the edge of consciousness. For an instant Liz felt the sensation of fear gripping her. Desperation. Longing. Please. Liz. Hear me. And then it was gone. The feeling passed so quickly she wasn't sure she had felt anything at all. She put it aside and went back to the movie in her mind before finally drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Liz had to practically drag herself to school Monday morning. She had finally fallen asleep around four, only to have the alarm jolt her awake two hours later. The thought of seeing Max again was the only thing that gave her the strength to get out of bed.

Home room crawled by at a snail's pace. If she could only make it through to biology class. She just needed to look into his beautiful dark eyes again, to see if that spark was still there. Everything would be all right when she saw him.

Except Max never showed up to bio - or any of the classes they had together. He wasn't in school at all. Liz felt a pang of worry, though she couldn't really explain why. She had to find Isabel or Michael. They would know what was going on. He was probably just sick or something. Only he never got sick. She tried to stay in control and not let her imagination run wild. Max probably had a good reason for missing school. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

"Something's wrong," said Maria, approaching Liz's locker. Liz wanted to agree with her wholeheartedly, but she knew how Maria could overreact. Someone needed to keep a level head if this really did turn out to be a crisis.

"What's wrong?" said Liz, as calmly as she could manage.

"Michael's not in school today," she said.

"Yeah. Neither is Max." Liz tried to keep it casual. "You know, they probably just went for a drive or something so I wouldn't worry."

Just then, Isabel walked up and immediately lodged herself into the conversation. "No. I would worry if I were you. Max has been missing since Saturday night."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Liz was no longer able to contain her panic.

Isabel urged Liz to lower her voice. "I didn't want to cause any alarm. I kept expecting him to walk in the door any minute. Then, this morning, I found this note in the Jeep."

She handed the note to Liz. It was Max's handwriting. Liz read aloud, "Isabel, I've found something. I won't say what in case it turns out to be another false lead, but it could be important for all of us. I am going to check it out for myself. I'll be back as soon as I can. Please cover for me with Mom and Dad and don’t tell anyone, especially Michael. You know how he gets. Love, Max." Liz looked up from the note, trying to read Isabel's expression. "Do you believe it?" she asked.

"Not for a second." Liz didn't believe it either. It wasn't like Max at all to go off and investigate something on his own. It was much more Michael's style. Max was the one who weighed the options, considered things, made a plan. He didn't usually act on impulse. Liz could see the fear in Isabel's eyes reflecting her own. They both had a bad feeling about this.

"Wait. What about Michael?" asked Maria. "He's not in school either."

"He was this morning. He was acting a little strange. He just went into the bathroom and I haven't seen him since. Maybe he knows what's going on. I don't know how to explain it, but Max is in some kind of trouble. I... feel it. Somehow I know it."

"I feel it too," said Liz. Isabel looked at her, eyes wide. "Last night. I think... I felt him. I think Max was trying to reach me somehow."

"Did you dream about him by any chance?" asked Isabel anxiously.

"No. I hardly slept at all last night."

"Hey. Aren't you guys worried about Michael at all?" asked Maria, frustrated.

Just then the bell rang. Maria walked off in disgust. Isabel waited until Maria had gone and said to Liz, "Meet me at the Crashdown after school. We can talk then. In the meantime, just act normal."

Normal. Liz had been hearing that word a lot since finding out the truth about Max, Michael and Isabel. Strangely, she couldn't remember hearing all that much it before she knew that there was anything other than normal to be.

* * *

When Max awoke he found himself in a cold, gray cell with a single glass door and no windows. He could have easily gotten out of there if he wanted to, but he knew he wouldn't get very far. It was just what they were waiting for. How dumb did they think he was?

He knew Isabel wouldn't buy the note. They had made him write it to keep his friends from asking questions. He didn't mind doing it. He would prefer that the people he loved stayed away and out of danger. If there was a way out of here he would find it. He just hoped that his friends wouldn't try anything heroically stupid in the meantime.

Fortunately, he had a secret weapon. He could communicate with the outside and they would never know about it. The problem was, you couldn't go into a person's dreams if they weren't dreaming. He had tried to go into Liz's dreams last night, but it didn't work. It could have been that he was out of practice. He hadn't even thought of attempting such a thing in years and he had never been as good at it as Isabel was. Maybe it was because he didn't have Liz's picture to concentrate on. No, that wasn't it. He knew every line, every shape, every pore of her smooth, perfect face. He held on to that image, cherished it. It was the only thing that had kept him sane this far. She must not have been asleep when he'd tried.

He might have made a connection of another kind, though. In the early hours of the night, just as he was about to give up, there was a moment when he could have sworn he felt their connection, the sensation of Liz's familiar soul mingling with his own. But it didn't last very long. He wasn't convinced that it was anything more than wishful thinking on his part. He would try again tonight. Maybe he could get through to her this time.

* * *

Isabel sat in the Crashdown Café and waited for Liz. She hadn't spent a lot of time there before the shooting. It wasn't exactly the place to be seen. Besides that, the whole alien theme creeped her more than a little. Since "the incident," though, they had been coming there a lot to meet and discuss things without having to worry about who was listening. The place was starting to feel alarmingly comfortable.

The door opened and Isabel was surprised to find Michael walking in, sporting a nasty black eye. He took a seat across from her in the booth.

"Oh my god, Michael. What happened?"

"Where's Max?" Michael asked forcefully, ignoring her question.

"First tell me what happened to your eye."

"Hank. Now where is Max?" Michael was always evasive about his home situation, but Isabel couldn't let it drop this time.

"Michael, what are you going to do? You can't just let him..."

"Can we deal with the more important situation at hand please? You want to explain to me why I've spent the last day and a half avoiding someone who isn't even around. Do you know where he is or don't you?"

Liz walked up just in time to answer his question. "We don't know. No one has seen him. We're really worried, Michael."

"Then what are you doing sitting around here?" he asked, sliding out of the booth.

Isabel caught him by the arm. "Michael, wait. He could be anywhere. We can't just go off in a blind rush. We need a plan. It's what Max would do if he were here."

"If Max were here we wouldn't have a problem, would we?" Michael shook Isabel's hand loose and stormed out.

Isabel and Liz just looked at each other. Finally, Isabel explained, "He's mad about being the last to know. He's just blowing off some steam. It's his way of dealing with stuff. Don't worry, he won't go off and do anything stupid." She consciously left out the word 'yet.'

"Thanks," said Liz, sliding into the booth. "I'm glad one of us here speaks Michael." Isabel smiled.

"I just wish Max were here, you know? This thing with Michael's foster father is bad, but we can't deal with it right now. Not with Max missing." Isabel looked like she was holding back tears. Liz realized what she must be going through. The two people she cared about most were in trouble and there was nothing she could do about it.

Liz tried to distract Isabel from her thoughts for the moment. "Isabel, when you asked me about Max being in my dream, what did you mean by that?"

"Oh. It's just another thing we can do. It's called dreamwalking. We can actually go to into other people's dreams and walk around, even interact with the person if we want. Comes in pretty handy sometimes." Isabel smiled to herself. She couldn't help but think back to the last time she had gone into a dream - Alex's dream.

"So you think that Max might have been trying to...walk into my dreams last night?"

"Maybe. Only you said you weren't sleeping so he couldn't have gotten through."

"Isabel, do you think it's possible he could have made a connection anyway? You know, while I was awake?"

"I don't know. It's never happened before. He might try again tonight, though."

"What do I do?" asked Liz, a bit concerned about what Max might see in her subconscious.

"Nothing," said Isabel. "Just go to bed like normal. If he comes to you, you'll know it."

* * *

It was twilight. A beautiful desert landscape spread out before Liz. Stars were beginning to fill the indigo colored sky and the full moon rose over a distant plateau. Liz walked barefoot through the sand. Although she was only wearing a thin sweater, she didn't feel at all cold. It was then that she realized she was dreaming. From behind her there was a noise and the rustle of sagebrush.

"Hello, Liz." She turned to find Max standing there. He was barefoot and dressed in what appeared to be white hospital scrubs.

"Max. Isabel said you might come. But how do I know that you're really here and I'm not just imagining you?"

"I guess you don't."

"Well, can you tell me what's going on? Are you okay? We've all been so worried."

"I'm much better now that I'm with you. I don't want you to worry about me. I just came to tell you that I'm okay and I will get out of here soon."

"Out of where? Where are you Max?"

"I don't know. It's some kind of government facility, I think. Topolsky is here. She seems to be in charge. They're just watching me so far."

"Max, are you scared?"

He couldn't lie to her, even in a dream. "Yeah. But listen to me, Liz. I don't want you to do anything that might put you in danger. Tell Michael and Isabel to stay away too. I will find a way to get out of here if I can. I will let you know if I need help from the outside. For now, though, please don't concern yourself with me." She looked down. He might as well have asked her not to breathe. He lifted her chin tenderly so that they were eye to eye. "Is that understood?"

Liz's expression softened. "Your life is at stake and you're worried about me?" Suddenly the scenery changed and they were on her balcony. Music was playing in the background - the same music that had played the night they kissed for the first time. She stepped in closer to him.

Max knew it was a dream, but it all seemed so real. Her scent was exactly the same as it was in the waking world: fresh soap and vanilla. He could feel her breath warm against his chest. He closed his eyes. The temptation was so strong he could feel it aching inside him. He wanted so much to hold her. Her hands reached out for his. He curled his strong fingers around her slender, delicate ones and brought them up to his lips. It was only a dream, what harm could there be?

She was so familiar, her soul so comfortable next to his. Being here with Liz was like being home. How could he have ever let her go? They belonged to each other. They belonged together. He cupped her face in his hands and studied her features. His lips quivered just a bit, as if looking for the perfect place to land.

Liz smiled and said, "Now I know you're not real. I've had this dream before."

Max looked down at her, intrigued. "Really." One corner of his mouth twitched just a bit then curled into a half-smile. "Tell me how it goes," he said in a low, husky voice.

He had never said that in her dream before, but it sounded fun so she went with it. "Well, first you put your arms around me."

"Like this?" he asked, complying. She nodded. "Then what?" he asked, playing along.

"Then you touch my face." She took his hand and rubbed the back of his fingers against her cheek. The touch of her soft skin sent shivers through him. "Like this. And you tell me that I'm the only one for you."

Max's grin evolved into a more serious expression. "You are the only one for me."

"And then you say you love me."

Max hesitated for a moment. He had never said it to her before, although he truly felt it. He wanted the first time to be special. He wanted her to know that it was coming from him, not some imaginary version of him. He rested his forehead against hers. "I do love you, Liz Parker. I've loved you from the first moment I saw you. And this is me, Max, saying it. Not your dream. Believe that we will both wake up tomorrow and know this has happened. I will remember it and keep it with me always, no matter what." She looked up at him. Her eyes were glassy, on the verge of tears. Max could not remember them looking so beautiful. "I'm going to kiss you now," he whispered carefully.

He bent down and touched his lips gently to hers. Her mouth was so sweet and tender. She accepted his kiss and reciprocated. It felt warm and very real. She opened her lips wider, inviting in his tongue and greeting it with her own. He could feel the supple curves of her body pressing up against his, causing a certain physical reaction in him that he wouldn't have thought possible in a dream. Gradually their kiss increased in intensity. It became more sensual, more passionate. His mouth left hers and wandered down to her neck. She let out a small squeal of delight as his tongue found her earlobe. Softly, he blew into her ear and softly whispered "I love you."

This wasn't like any dream kiss Liz had ever experienced. Could this actually be the real Max here with her? She had only half-believed it was possible until now. She reluctantly broke away from their embrace and looked deep into his intense, soulful eyes. "It is you, isn't it? You're really here."

"Yes," he answered breathlessly, "I'm really here."

Whooop! Whooop! Whooop! Whooop!

A car alarm sounded on the street outside, yanking Liz from her slumber. She would never get back to the dream now. The real world seemed so cold and lonely compared to the glowing warmth of that imaginary place. She sat up in bed and pulled her covers around her, holding onto the memory of every detail for as long as she could.

* * *

"So? Anything?" asked Isabel, approaching Liz in the school hallway.

"Max was definitely in my dream last night, though that's not all that unusual," Liz blushed a little, embarrassed at the confession she had just made to Max's sister. "But this felt different somehow. It... felt like him."

"Well, what did he say?" asked Isabel.

Liz thought about what he had said - the most important thing he could have ever said - but that's not what Isabel needed to know. "It's Topolsky. They're holding him in some government facility somewhere. He said he's fine and we shouldn't worry about him. He told me to tell you and Michael to stay away, not to endanger yourselves."

Isabel let out an exasperated sigh. "Typical. So what are we supposed to do? Just sit back and wait while they perform horrible experiments on him and god knows what?"

"He seemed okay. They're just watching him so far. He's not hurt or anything."

Isabel shook her head. "I don't like this."

Liz put her hand on Isabel's shoulder, comfortingly. "Isabel, can I ask you a personal question?" Isabel nodded. "Do you wish that he had come to you instead of me?"

"He can't. We don't really have dreams like you do. And even if we did..." Isabel's voice trailed off. Liz could tell she felt like she was losing him in more ways than one.

"Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine."

"What's going to be fine?" asked Alex, taking them both by surprise.

"Alex! You scared me to death," said Liz, punching him in the shoulder.

"Everything does not seem fine to me. I saw the way you two were intently conferencing over here. What's up?"

Liz took his arm and pulled him closer so she could whisper, "Alex, Topolsky's back. She's kidnapped Max and taken him somewhere. He's been missing since Saturday night."

Alex looked at the two of them in shock. "How do you know for sure it was Topolsky?"

Liz got an excited look in her eyes, "Max told me. He came to me in a dream last night and..."

Isabel cut her off, "You know, we should probably be getting to class. See you later, Alex." She started down the hallway, hoping that Alex would not make the connection between Max visiting Liz and her little visit to him not long ago. Then again, a part of her hoped that he would.

Alex said, "Wait, you guys. I think I know a way we can find out what Topolsky's up to. Meet me in the computer lab after school. I've got something to show you."

* * *

The glass door to Max's cell slid open with a whoosh. A stern, bald-headed man in a white lab coat stood in the doorway accompanied by two uniformed guards. Max looked up at them wearily.

"All right, let's go," he said, indicating to Max that he should stand. Max did as he was told. "Avoid physical contact if at all possible," the man warned the guards.

Neither guard seemed to want to get very close to Max. Clearly they had been made aware of his non-human status. He had to smile to himself. These two burly military men seemed genuinely afraid of him. One guard stood behind him, his gun poised and ready. The other stood beside him with one hand firmly on his holster. Such a fuss for a non-assuming 16-year-old high school student. Unless the kid also happened to be an alien with mysterious super powers.

"Boo," said Max to the guard at his side, having a little fun. The man practically jumped out of his skin.

"Enough," said the man in the white coat. "Pay no attention to the subject." Max didn't much like being referred to as a 'subject.' It didn't bode well for the rest of his day.

This was the moment he had feared ever since he realized he was different. He used to stay up late at night and think about what could happen if his secret ever got out. They couldn't imagine a torture he hadn't already thought of long ago.

The one thing he hadn't counted on in all that time was Liz. He was so grateful for her now. When he thought about her the whole world seemed to fade away. As long as he held on the memory of their time together last night he could stand anything. He was looking forward to seeing her again tonight. If he could just make it through the day first.

* * *

"So what's this all about, Alex?" asked Isabel.

He tapped on the keyboard of one of the computers in the lab while Isabel and Liz looked on over his shoulder. "Okay, do you remember how we exposed Topolsky as FBI before she left? I hacked into the remote server connection on her laptop by creating a fake user profile and password."

"Yeah," said Liz. Something on the computer monitor caught her attention. She and Isabel gasped in unison when they saw what Alex had brought up on the screen.

"Well, it's still valid." There on the desktop, plain as day was the logo for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. "They never deleted it. Highest security clearance. I can access the server remotely from any computer on the net. We can look at her files, open her e-mail, even see what websites she's visited. All without her knowing it."

"Wow," said Liz.

"Alex, I love you!" said Isabel, hugging him around the shoulders. He was happily surprised at the gesture.

"So, can you use this to find out where they're holding Max?" asked Liz anxiously.

"Well, let's see..."

* * *

Max was drained by the time they brought him back to his stark little cell - drained of fluids, drained of energy and nearly drained of hope. It had been a grueling day. They had poked and prodded him until there wasn't an inch of him left untouched. They had attached electrodes to his body and asked him endless questions. He made flippant remarks and cooperated as little as possible, but the experiments continued. Fortunately, his trick of thinking about Liz had worked. It helped him get through the worst of it.

Time was hard to judge in this place, but Max could tell the lights would be turned out soon. Finally, he could escape completely into the world of Liz. Last night had ended so abruptly, just when it was getting good. Something must have woken her. Tonight he wouldn't waste a moment of their precious time together.

After what seemed an eternity, the lights in the hallway dimmed and Max knew it was time. He closed his eyes and, just as he had done the night before, concentrated on the image of Liz's face. He recalled a specific memory of the last time he saw her. "Did you really mean all of those things you said when we were alone tonight?" she had asked him. He made a mental note to ask her what it was he had said that night. As he focused on the image a heavy wave of drowsiness came over him. It wasn't long before he was sound asleep.

* * *

Max walked through the double doors of the Crashdown Cafe. The lighting and colors were different than his memory, somehow unnatural. He realized that he had succeeded walking into Liz's dream. The cafe looked empty, but he heard a sound coming from the back room. Through the little window in the kitchen door he could barely make out a figure beyond. It was Liz and she wasn't alone. Slowly, he opened the door to find Liz there in the break room, making out with... himself. He couldn't help but smile.

Max cleared his throat. "Uh, Liz?" he said shyly. Liz was totally wrapped up in the moment, barely aware of her surroundings. Max was almost sorry to interrupt them. Almost. "Liz," he said again.

Liz opened one eye and saw him standing there. "Max! How can you be... but you're... already here."

"That's not me. I mean, it is me, but it's part of your dream. This is the real me."

"Oh," said Liz, looking a little confused and somewhat embarrassed.

Dream Max stepped away and looked down at Liz with an identical grin. "He's right. I'm not real."

"This is weird." She turned back to the real Max. "So... how do I make him...?"

"It's your dream. You control what happens in it."

Liz said to Dream Max, "Um. Why don't you go and get yourself a soda or something?"

"Whatever you say, darling," said Dream Max with a brush of his hand to her cheek. He turned and disappeared into the Crashdown.

"Darling?" teased Max.

"You said it's my dream," answered Liz coyly.

"Yes, and we're alone at last," said Max. He put his arms around Liz's tiny waist and pulled her to him. She smiled and ran her hands along his smooth, muscular arms, stopping at a square patch of gauze attached to his bicep.

"What's this?"

"Tissue sample," said Max, dismissing it.

He leaned in to kiss her but she put a hand on his chest to stop him. The kissing could wait. She was concerned. "I thought you said they were just observing you."

"That was yesterday."

"Does it hurt?"

"It hurts less when I think of you." Max tried again to change the subject, but Liz wasn't focusing on romance at the moment.

Liz pulled away from him and plopped down on the small sofa. "This is all my fault. I'm so sorry, Max. If you hadn't healed me that day none of this would have happened."

Max sat next to her, held her hand and looked her square in the eye. "No. Please don't even think that. If I hadn't healed you that day you would have died. You didn't mean to get shot. I made the choice to save you. I knew exactly what I was doing and I haven't regretted it for one minute since. Whatever happens to me now, it will still be worth it because you're alive."

"But it's not worth it if I have to live without you. What happens if they find out about you?"

He finally broke eye contact with her and said, "They already know. They knew long before they brought me here. They just need their scientific proof." There was an awkward pause. He tried to lighten up the mood a bit and gave her a sidelong glance, "It may surprise you, but there's still a lot of people out there who don't actually believe in aliens."

"Wow," said Liz, appreciating his dry sense of humor, "It's like dating Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny."

"Except I doubt either of them would be thinking the kind of thoughts I'm thinking right now," Max said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

He traced the v-shaped neckline of her cotton shirt with his index finger, exploring the border between fabric and skin. Liz could sense his need for her radiating like heat from his body. It reached inside of her like a spark and ignited her own passionate flame. There were things she had wanted to tell him, important things about plans being made, but they all seemed to melt away in the warmth of his touch.

She closed her eyes. Soon she felt his lips pressing against hers. There was an urgency in his kiss, a hunger, as if he could not go one more second without her. He held the back of her head and threaded his fingers through her soft, raven hair. It felt like he would have swallowed her whole if he could. Short, passionate kisses alternated with long, deep ones. Liz let out a moan of pleasure, which only encouraged his affection.

Max wanted to dive into her completely. He wanted to be lost inside her. The feeling of her silken hair flowing around his shoulders was almost unbearable. He lowered his hand to the small of her back, kissing her still, and leaned her slowly down on the couch. She scooted underneath him until he was almost lying on top of her. He looked into her eyes, a question on his mind. She read his expression perfectly and nodded in agreement. His hands wandered down her shirt, and then up underneath it. Her skin was incredibly soft, even more than he had imagined it would be.

Liz could not believe a dream could feel so real. But it was a dream, she reminded herself. As sublime as it felt to have Max's gentle hands exploring her for the first time as she had always wanted them to, she knew that it was just an illusion. They weren't really together. She was at home in bed and he was locked up somewhere beneath the desert, miles away. It didn't feel right somehow.

"Wait, Max," she said.

"What is it? Something wrong?" The instant he removed his hand from her body, Liz wanted it back there again. She hesitated, but remained strong.

"No. Nothing's wrong. In fact, it's perfect. Too perfect. It's not real."

"I know," said Max. She didn't have to explain. He knew exactly what she meant. Their first time, the first time ever for both of them, should be experienced in the flesh. He just hoped that he would live long enough to have the chance.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I think..." She closed her eyes. The next part would not come easy. "I think maybe we should wait, you know? Is that okay with you?"

"Come here," he said, pulling her upright again. "It's fine." He stroked her cheek with his thumb, kissed her sweetly, then put his strong arms around her.

Liz rested her head on his chest and smiled, knowing that he understood.

Continued next page...

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