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Just Another Motel Room, But No Ordinary Girl

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Posted to the RoswellSlash mailing list November 24, 2002

Title: Just Another Motel Room, But No Ordinary Girl (1/1)
Author: Michelle K. (
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Yes to list archives. Others ask.
Pairing: Liz/Isabel
Spoilers: through the series finale.
Summary: "Isabel thought that she'd get over Liz."
Disclaimer: 'Roswell' and its characters are not mine. Don't sue, please.

        Isabel thought that she'd get over Liz.

        That belief wasted away over time, after a few meaningless fucks and a 'loving' marriage failed to rid her mind of Liz related thoughts. She remembers that window between Alex's death and when Liz finally let Max back into her heart, when Liz's fingers danced against her flesh, when she grew to know Liz's body better than she does her own.

        She always knew she'd never forget; she just thought that the scars would heal.

        Now, watching her former lover marry her brother, she knows that she'll always be in love with her.

        She wants to cry; instead, she smiles.

        No one seems to notice the difference.


        They've passed through five states by the time she stops thinking about Jesse. But the guilt still lingers - the guilt over never really loving him. The guilt over thinking about Liz while they had sex.

        The guilt over giving him this image of a tender wife aching to return to him.

        Liz takes over her mind at full force. After all, she has no distractions now. She can't busy herself with college or the role of dutiful spouse.

        Liz is always there.

        She can't escape her.

        Part of her doesn't want to.


        She avoids Liz the best she can; tries not to stare with anger at the spectacle that is the Max-n-Liz lovefest.

        Six months on the run, Isabel finally gets a new distraction.

        At this point, the six of them are in New Jersey, living out of a motel room off the highway. Liz and Maria are waitresses, Kyle works at an autobody shop, Michael paints houses, Max works at a movie theater at Menlo Park Mall. And Isabel has a job at Shoprite, which she begins to equate with hell.

        It's midnight when she arrives back at the motel. She's been working a seven-hour shift, and she's incredibly tired. Kyle is outside, leaning on the broken soda machine.

        "Hey, Is. Can I talk to you?" he asks.

        She sighs heavily as she goes over. "Yeah, Kyle. What is it?"

        He hesitates. "Uh. Nevermind."

        "Just tell me, okay? I'm sorry if I'm being snippy, but I'm just not in mood for games--"

        "I love you," he says suddenly. "I'm in love with you."

        The stars are shining above their heads, a soft breeze is brushing by her cheek; she supposes that this would be romantic if it weren't for the setting. And the fact that she's not in love with him.

        "I just needed to say that," he continues. "I mean, you're not with...him anymore, so I decided what's really stopping me?" His grin is somewhat sad, somewhat cocky.

        Isabel pulls him close and kisses him.

        This'll be fine, she decides. Kyle is a good guy, a good friend. He loves her just like Jesse did. And she can be with him - he can help her fend off loneliness.

        Even if she'll always love Liz.

        She leads him to her bed, but she doesn't tell him she loves him back. He doesn't seem to be looking for that - he probably thinks she's still in love with Jesse.

        She lets him think that.

        The sex is good, but she still compares every touch to the feel of Liz's fingers against her skin.

        Liz wins the competition.


        Everyone's delighted by Isabel and Kyle's new status as couple. Liz comments, in an overly adorable way, "We're all couples now. Isn't that just amazing how a group divides perfectly like that?"

        Isabel almost hates her for being so delighted. Doesn't she remember anything?

        Why doesn't she care?

        Kyle moves his things into her hotel room without asking. She doesn't argue under the principle that they'll save money. Anyway, she likes having someone to share her bed with.

        Sometimes, in the middle of the night, she can pretend it's Liz.


        "Are you alright?" Kyle asks. On the television, Letterman makes a joke about Dr. Phil.

        It's not that funny, but she smiles to placate Kyle. "Yeah. Fine. Why?" she replies.

        He shrugs. "Nothing. You just seem faraway." He looks concerned.

        She supposes that he believes she's thinking about Jesse. If he only knew...

        If Max only knew...

        "I'm right here," Isabel says. She kisses him deeply. "I'm right here," she repeats.

        In another moment, his fingers are between her legs. She bites her tongue to keep from gasping, "Liz."


        A late dinner; one of the few formal get-togethers permitted by their work schedules.

        Isabel almost prefers the horror of her job to the horror of being seated next to Liz at Chilli's.

        "Liar!" Liz yells out. "You did not get that for ten dollars."

        "Yes I did," Isabel replies.

        She wonders if the any of the others catch the anger in her voice. Liz's comment is playful, of course, but Isabel's still sickened by the irony of such an accusation coming from her.

        Liz is the one who told Isabel she loved her. Obviously a lie.

        Liz is the one who pledged her heart to Max. Which is either a lie or a betrayal.

        Liz is the one who pretends that she never pressed her flesh against Isabel's. Very much a lie.

        On the other hand, Isabel pretends too. She's made lies of omission by not telling Max, Jesse, Kyle, everyone else. She acts like everything's fine.

        Completely a lie.

        "Excuse me," Isabel mumbles. "I have to go to the bathroom."

        When she gets back, she doesn't engage Liz in any conversation.

        Liz seems to notice. But she doesn't seem to care.


        One night, Maria and Max are working, Michael and Kyle are out bowling, and Isabel and Liz are at the hotel, holed off in separate rooms.

        Isabel finds herself wanting to be close to Liz; she also finds herself wanting to be hundreds of miles away. But she knows she doesn't really have to deal with it. Liz is nearby, sure, but still able to be ignored.

        So, she can just sit in her room and watch television. She can just stare at the images and pretend they can fill her mind.

        A knock at her door. "Who is it?" she calls out without moving.

        "It's me." Pause. "Liz," she adds, as if Isabel doesn't recognize her voice.

        She wonders if Liz realizes how much every aspect of her is tattooed onto her brain. "What do you want?"

        "Nothing in particular," she says. "Can we stop discussing this through a door?"

        "I'm busy," Isabel answers. "I'm watching a very important show," she says. She looks up to notice that her channel flipping has landed on 'SpongeBob SquarePants.' Must-see-TV indeed.

        "I don't like being alone, Is." That is one thing Isabel can't argue with. Just a few weeks without Max and she was already looking for someone else to make her feel whole.

        Isabel's always wondered why Liz chose her, but she's never had the guts to ask. The answer, she's assumed, is not a good one.

        "Please let me in," Liz adds. And she sounds just pathetic enough to get Isabel's long dormant Liz sympathy to appear.

        Damn her.

        "I'm coming," Isabel says. To her credit, she doesn't sound happy.

        Isabel opens the door to find Liz looking radiant - hair gently falling upon her face, smile curling her lips. It's times like this that she remembers the sweetness and beauty that made her love Liz Parker to begin with.

        This is going to be a long and awkward couple of hours.


        Isabel's barely paying attention to the television. She's barely even paying attention to Liz. Distance is what she's going for. So she eases farther away on the bed until one of her legs is hanging off the side.

        "Are you going somewhere?" Liz asks.

        "No," Isabel mutters. "I just didn't want to give you any wrong ideas."

        "Any wrong ideas?"

        "What are you questioning?" she snaps.

        "I'm questioning what wrong idea I would get," Liz says.

        "You're serious?" Isabel asks with disbelief. "I can't stand you, you know. I can't..." Her voice starts to break, so she shuts up. She hates being the fragile one. She hates Liz not caring. She hates crying over her when there's no point.

        "I'm sorry," Liz replies. "I just...I wanted to talk to you."

        "About what? The past we pretend not to have?"

        "I guess so," Liz says. "I guess that's what I mean."

        "Why? What is there to say?"

        "That...that I can't pretend anymore. That I miss you."

        "Good for you. I've been missing you for over a year, but you didn't really care. Why should I care what you're going through?"

        "Because you still miss me, too," Liz replies. "I can tell, Is. I can tell you still--"

        "Don't tell me what I want," she protests weakly.

        "I don't know what you feel about Kyle, but I...I don't...I mean, I do love Max. But you've always been the most important person to me. You've always..." Now, Liz is crying. Not the full throttle weeping that Isabel was on the edge of, but silent tears that fall slowly down her face.

        And Isabel forgets that she's been pissed off for months. She forgets that she's not supposed to want her anymore.

        "Everything," Liz continues, "Everything just got so screwed up..."

        "I know," Isabel replies.

        Then, her mouth is being covered by Liz's. And she knows that she still wants it.


        "Jesus, Liz," Isabel gasps out as Liz's lips close over her clit. Then Liz does this thing with the flat of her tongue, this thing that always made Isabel's knees quiver, and it still has the same shuddering effect. She cries out when she comes, says Liz's name in a way that sounds like reverence but feels like the restarting of obsessive love.

        Isabel's not sure how to feel about that.

        Liz rests her chin on Isabel's stomach, looks up at her with those doe eyes. "What should we do now?" she asks.

        "It's pretty soon to be having second thoughts, isn't it?" Isabel asks.

        Liz removes her body from Isabel's. As she settles herself next to her she declares, "I don't mean second thoughts...I mean, Max is going to be angry with us, isn't he? I care about him."

        "So do I," Isabel admits softly, her true remorse at having to hurt her brother undercutting her delight at Liz wanting to be truthful about their relationship. "Let's just not worry about that, okay? He should be back at twelve-thirty, right? So, just stay here for a little while longer."

        Liz's lips curl into a tiny smile. Isabel can't help but smile back.

        She feels okay for the first time in a long time. She curls her body against Liz's, finally feeling *relaxed.* Everything else will have to wait.


        Isabel doesn't hear the door open.

        She doesn't see the look on her brother's face as he takes in the sight of his sister and his wife in bed together. She doesn't see the confusion, the hurt, the disgust, the anger.

        She doesn't hear the door close. She doesn't hear the footsteps or his muffled cries.

        She's asleep by the woman she loves. She doesn't have to deal with anything else.

        But soon, she'll have to.

        THE END

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