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The Quest

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Posted to the RoswellSlash mailing list March 6, 2002

Author:  Minnie
Rating:  PG-13
Category:  UC/Slash overtones, Max/Kyle
Dedication:  To Nick Wechsler.  I hope he forgives me.   And to Mala because I :heart: her.
Feedback:  Constructive feedback is appreciated.
Author's Note:  After I caught the title of the last Roswell ep (Chant Down Babylon), I couldn't get the thought of Kyle at Babylon out of my head.  So I hunkered down and wrote this badfic. 
Crossover:  Roswell/Queer as Folk.  No narrative, just dialogue.  And bad puns.
Archiver Date:  3/6/2002

        "Max, you sure this is the right place?" 

        "I overheard that FBI agent telling his boss that what I'm looking for is here, Kyle.   I need to get to it before anyone else finds it."

        "This thing you're looking for wouldn't happen to be a dashing, brown-haired ex-jock, would it?"

        "Uh --"

        "Don't answer that.   I already know." 

        "I don't."

        "You're telling me.   Where are we anyway?"

        "Liberty Avenue."  

        "Might as well be another planet, huh?"


        "We're here.   Babylon.   Come on."

        "IN THERE?  We're going in there?  You *do* know what that place is, don't you?"  

        "Kyle, keep your voice down.  We're queer enough as it is over here.   We can't attract attention to ourselves."

        "I don't think that's going to be a problem around these parts.   You know, that place doesn't strike me as a normal FBI hangout."

        "Nothing's ever normal when it comes to us.  You should know that by now.  Get used to it."

        "Interesting choice of words there."   


        "We're in.  Got us through with some fake IDs."

        "You're real handy.  I mean, your powers are real handy."  

        "They do the job."

        "I know.   Whoa.   Somehow Buddha never covered this in his teachings.   Unless I skipped the chapter on finding a higher consciousness in gay clubs.   Hey, watch the hands there, buddy.  I'm taken.   Max ... That guy just copped a feel."

        "We don't have time for this, Kyle."

        "Speak for yourself.  Never mind.  What am I supposed to be on the lookout for?"

        "Something alien."

        "I've already got something alien.  Someone alien."  

        "I meant, something out of place here.   Glowing rocks maybe."

        "Well, there's plenty of rocks here but I doubt if they're glowing or out of place."

        "I'll check the back room, you take the front.   The bar, Kyle."


        "Anything?  Max?"

        "No.  Nothing to see in the back room."

        "Must have been some kind of nothing.   You look positively green.  But no rocks, huh?" 

        "Not exactly.  What about you?"

        "Got some phone numbers.  Some guy named Ted was telling about his website.  Work-related, I think.  Wanted me to check it out.  Another one wanted to know if I'd sit on his ... chair.  Don't worry, I told him I wasn't available for any ... sittings.   Oh, and it looks like we're not the only ones with fake IDs in here.  Found someone our age.   I think he was with the 'chair' guy.  Didn't catch his name though."

        "So you struck out."

        "I wouldn't say that exactly.  This tall guy kept calling me sweetie.  Almost swept me off my feet."

        "What about the dance floor?"

        "You're asking me to dance?   Why, Max Evans, what would Liz say?"  . 

        "I meant that something might be there.  We need to check it out."

        "Now you're trying to sweep me off my feet.   Lead on, Max." 


        "You're supposed to be looking, not dancing."

        "Trust me, I'm looking ... for that inner peace that Buddha's talked about for so long.  I think I've found it."  

        "Kyle ..."

        "No, Max, look.  Over there, by the side of floor.  Those things look like bright rocks.  Might be alien."

        "Wait here."  

        "Oh, no, you're not leaving me with all these queens.  Besides, you're supposed to be the king, right?  You need to be among queens.  *I'll* go check it out."

        "Kyle, it might be dangerous.  I can't let you go."

        "Keep that up and I might get a swelled head."

        "Stay.   Please."

        "Okay, but I'm shutting my eyes and thinking of you ... er, Buddha."



        "Just some fake rocks that someone sprayed with glitter."

        "See, Max, you think it was what you wanted but actually, it wasn't."

        "Whatever it is, it's not here." 

        "*I'm* here."

        "We have to go."

        "So soon?  We just got here." 

        "Are you coming or what?"

        "I'm coming, I'm coming.  You know, in different circumstances, that would have been a *good* thing."


        "Max, the car is this way.   Not that way.   Unless the car has somehow managed to squeeze into that guy's pants."

        "Sorry.  I was just -- "

        "Checking out the competition?  You've got them beat ... hands down." 

        "How do you know?"

        "I'm all-seeing, all-knowing."  

        "The only thing I want to see is the road."

        "And judging by tonight, we've got a long road ahead of us."


        "Ow.  Dammit."

        "What happened, Kyle?"

        "I almost slammed the car door on my hand."

        "Gotta be more careful."

        "I'm always careful.  That is, when I'm not trying to knock you unconscious with all those anvils."

        "I noticed."



        "Now what?"

        "My butt's sore.  And your car's upholstery isn't exactly the smoothest thing I've been on, Max."

        "Kyle, did you -- ?"

        "Did I -- what?"

        "Did you go to the back when I wasn't looking?"

        "What *was* in that back room, Max?"

        "I told you.  Nothing."

        "Uh-huh.  Next time, I'll take the back, you take the front."

        "I don't think so."  

        "Oh, I think so.  Ow."  

        "You okay?"

        "If your definition of okay is getting my butt pinched by random guys, then yes.   The things I do for you, Evans!"

        "Do you want me to ..."

        "Pinch it?   You want to put your hand on my ass?  Max, this is so sudden."

        "I meant, do you want me to heal your ... heal you."

        "Been there, done that.   Although your hands haven't been *there* exactly.   But something tells me they will."

        "Kyle, I -- I don't ... "

        "Don't know what to do with my ass?"

        "No.  I  wanted to thank you."

        "For my generous offer?   Any time, Evans, any time." 

        "For coming ... here with me.  I don't think Liz would have been so ..."

        "Patient?  Accomodating?  Self-sacrificing?"  


        "You know, I think that FBI agent was right.   You did find something you were looking for."

        "What's that?"

        "Yourself.  Your *real* self.  You looked like you belonged there." 

        "All-seeing, all-knowing, huh?"

        "You got it."

        "Do I, Kyle?  Do I have y-- it?"

        "Yes, you do have *it*, Max."

        "Then I'm glad you-- *it* was there with me.  Let's go home"

        "Can we stop by that place over there first?"


        "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?   Good way to end the evening." 

        "It's not over yet."

        "Promises, promises."

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