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Late (Second Version)

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Posted to the RoswellSlash mailing list December 29, 2000

Title: Late (2nd version)
Author: Minnie
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.
Dedication: To all the slash fic writers out there who have inspired me
Distribution: Please ask.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. No infringement intended.

He was late. Max Evans drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his jeep, watching Saturday evening traffic on the highway into Roswell crawling to a stop. Great. This was just great. He was going to catch hell.

"Come on, come on, come on" he muttered impatiently. It wasn't like him to be so antsy but today was special. He had to be somewhere. He glanced at his watch. An hour. Already an hour late. It would take another hour or so to get to Roswell. He was dog meat, he knew it.

Two hours later, he pulled the jeep into a parking lot. Inside the nearby building was probably one irate love. He sighed. "What the hell, at least I'm here," he reasoned.

He glanced at the sign just outside the door of the establishment. It paraded his love's name in big, bold letters for all to see. Max smiled widely, feeling quite proud of this accomplishment.

Stopping slightly at the door of the large building, he took a deep breath and pushed open the doors.

Cheers from the leftover crowd greeted his ears. He turned his eyes towards the spotlight and found it empty. He sighed. The event had wound down and he missed the whole thing. Crap.

As he made his way towards the direction of spotlight, his eyes alighted on a familiar figure coming towards him. "You missed the whole thing," the blonde with long, straight hair admonished him.

"Isabel. Yeah, I know. Couldn't be helped," he shrugged. He gave her a quick hug.

"I've been going insane listening to "Where the hell is he?" for the past hour!" she told him.

"Sorry. So where is the big cheese?" as his eyes searched for his love.

"In the back somewhere, moaning and grumbling," Isabel explained.

"As always, huh?" Max smiled ironically.

"Uh-huh. Oops, big cheese headed this way. You'd better duck." Isabel warned as he sauntered off.

"You had better have a damn good explanation for missing my big night!" the big cheese scolded him.

"I, uh, had to get something," Max said sheepishly.

"That's it? You, uh, had to get something? Not good enough," came the sharp reply.

"It took longer that I thought it would. Here ... this is for you," Max explained.

He handed a box to his love. And heard it being opened. A sharp gasp came out.

"This thing? You got me this thing?" came the hissed reply. "Why the hell would I need that?" his love screeched.

"It's not just any old thing. Look again," Max prompted.

His love glanced down at it. "Oh," as the light dawned on him.

"Is it the same one?" the big cheese asked.

"Yeah. It took me a while to find it," Max said.

"I should never have returned it, huh?" his love said, a little embarrassed.

"No, you shouldn't have. It was special," Max agreed. "I figured since this was a night of firsts, I'd get something to remind you of that first time too," he further explained.

Max's love fingered the object slightly. "So, you want me to wear it later?" his big cheese chortled.

"I wouldn't mind," Max winked.

"This ... and nothing else?," the cheese joked. He laughed out loud as Max blushed.

"If you like," Max said in a small voice.

"Well, I'll see if Officer Whitman is free for tonight," Alex smiled as he dropped the blue police hat that Max caught that night of Isabel's party. The one that Max just gave him. He drew Max in for a kiss.

"You do that," Max grinned after they finally came up for air.

"But first, come on, I want you to meet some people," Alex grabbed the hat off the floor, then took Max's hand and pulled him towards the crowd of record industry executives, waiting in the wings of the concert stage. The Whits' first concert to Roswell was a smashing success, one that had every record producer salivating to sign the band.

Halfway there, Alex stopped suddenly.

Max raised his eyebrows in question.

"Did you get the other thing, by any chance?" Alex questioned.

"You mean, the thong?" Max clarified. "Oh, yeah," he gave Alex a knowing smile.

"Good going," Alex gave him a 'thumbs up' signal before the crowd of record executives swallowed them.

The End

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