RSA Main Fiction by Title Fiction by Author Fiction by Partners Slash Subplots Familiar Faces Links


Taking Option Three

Reply to Michelle K. or visit her website

Posted to the RoswellSlash mailing list November 1, 2003

Title: Taking Option Three (1/1)
Author: Michelle K. ( CageyGrl@yahoo.com)
Site: http://glimmershine.tripod.com
Archive: List archives. Anyone else ask.
Spoilers: Up to 'Behind the Music'
Pairing: Maria/Liz
Rating: PG
Summary: "I am taking option three, no doubts about it."
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Notes: Written in Maria's POV. Second in the "Revelations" trilogy. Archivist's note: The first story in this series is The Answer Book.



      I went to Barnes and Noble. As expected, I found no book to answer all my questions.

      And, yes, I have finally resolved to tell Liz.

      It has been two weeks, though. I've given myself some (way too much?) time to come to this resolution. Because guts may not grow on trees, but they don't seem to flourish inside *me* either. Well, not easily.

      At least when it comes to this. With other things, I can be as blunt as a kick to the head. With this, timidity reigns.

      But I'm going to do it. I am taking option three, no doubts about it.

      Maybe she won't even be freaked out. She did once say that if I were a guy...

      Yes, I know I haven't grown a penis or facial hair. Just let me get ready to do this, okay?

      She's sitting on her bed, legs stretched out in front of her. And I'm next to her. Well, not quite *next* to her. I'm towards the edge, as far away as I can get while still being on the same piece of furniture.

      I can't even count the number of times I've been in this room, on this bed with her. And now, with my increased level of nervousness, the proximity is almost frightening. Really. If my collective nervousness came alive, it would be a monster that could destroy the entire world.

      Wow. I probably shouldn't think that - it's possible that something like that could actually occur in Roswell. Hey, there's another reason to just tell her. I can kill the ghoul of nervousness before he even comes alive.

      I'm still trying to talk myself into this, okay?

      "You said you wanted to talk to me," Liz says. "Is it about Michael?"

      "No. Michael and I...we're really over, you know? And I'm okay with that. We were doomed, probably. Doomed."

      "Maybe. But that doesn't always stop you from caring." She gets a wistful look on her face. She's probably thinking about Max and their complicated relationship. I'm just thinking that she deserves better. Like me. "Sorry," she says, shaking her head. "This isn't about me."

      "Yeah. It kinda is," I mutter. She stares at me, a confused look in her eye. "Liz...you know that we've been best friends for years?"

      Her gaze lightens as a touch of confusion creeps in. "Yeah?"

      "And I...I love you."

      "I love you, too," she says. She's still confused - and I'm confused too, if only about how to word this correctly.

      "I mean...I think about you all the time. I'm almost, like, obsessive. I...I love you as more than a friend." Crap. That didn't sound right at all.

      "What? Like you're gay all of a sudden?" She thinks I'm joking. I have an out. I can say my calendar got mixed up and I wrongly believed today to be April first.

      But, I'm not going to do that. I *can't* do that to myself again.

      "Not entirely," is all I manage to say.

      The seriousness of my voice must clue her that I'm not joking, and her face falls. "You...when did this start?"

      I shrug. "A few months ago," I mutter.

      "Maria...I don't know what to say." She looks as if I'd told her that I was dying.

      This is not the way I wanted it to go.

      Granted, I wasn't expecting her to fall into my arms with words of love, but I wasn't expecting her to look this grave. This...ashamed.

      "Then don't say anything, okay? Just forget I mentioned it."

      Next thing I know, I'm walking away. Soon, it changes into running away. And she's not following.

      When I get back home, I cry again. I don't know what to do.

      Maybe it's best not to do anything.

      Maybe I never should've done anything in the first place.

      END

Continue to Just Another Friday Night

Send comments to Michelle K.

Return to Top