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Beholden to Yesterday, Part Six

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Posted to the RoswellSlash mailing list May 16, 2001

Title: Beholden to Yesterday (6/?)
Author: trixie
Disclaimer: Jason and Joss own all;)
Rating: NC 17
Summary: Buffy heads to Roswell, New Mexico after killing Angel. There, she finds love and aliens. When her lover returns from Hell, will she want to give up what she has found?
Cate: Buffy/Liz, Liz/Max, Buffy/Angel

My smile will not mislead you
Cause I've been alone
And my faith turned to stone
Still there's something in you
I believe in

        "Yes," I answer and Liz walks past me hesitantly, her dark eyes luminous in the dimly lit bedroom. A rush of cold air from the air-conditioned hallway rushes across my thighs as I close the door, turning to an uncertain girl who watches me with fear in her gaze.

        "I was thinking today..." she says and her voice quavers slightly. "I was thinking about you and Michael."

        "Me and... Michael," I repeat slowly and she nods.

        "When you guys went off together. I know you're just friends. Even Maria knows that. But I was thinking about what it would be like if you guys... got together. And then I started to realize I should be angry at the thought for Maria. But you see, I wasn't. I wasn't jealous cause of my friend... I was jealous for... for me, Buffy." She takes a breath and sort of smiles.


        She stops me. "I don't... look, I've never... been with a girl before."

        I swallow and sit down on the bed. She joins me and the sides of our knees brush. Her skin is cool- yet faintly sweaty. I feel like I should tell her about Angel and why I'm running away- why I came to Roswell and let it gulp me down. Why I am trying to forget. But I can't. No matter how much I am beginning to care for Liz-- Angel... he is my burden to carry. The memory of him still makes my throat squeeze with pain and I can't share that with someone. Not yet, maybe not ever.

        But then she looks at me and says, "I don't need to know what you're leaving behind. What you left behind when you came here." Her tone drops to a whisper. "I've left things behind to. Not just Max... but a lot of things. Me, I guess, in a way. So I think I understand."

        I don't know if she does. She doesn't know what it's like to hold cold steel and ram it through the chest of her lover. She doesn't know what it's like to feel the salt of his tears on her lips... still be able to hear the echoes of him saying her name... feel the burn of the cross he gave her around her neck, and know... just know that nothing would ever be all right again. Tears prick my eyes and my breastbone aches for a cigarette.

        Her fingers cup my face then and she kisses my forehead gently. Our legs slide together as our mouths inevitably touch, and her tongue slips between my teeth. Quietly, we fall back on the bed and it's so different than Angel. So different than the rainy night when he made love to me and showed me everything could be beautiful- just for a few moments- when he was inside me- that things could be... simple. Simply perfect.

        Liz kisses my neck and I unbutton her shirt and it's strange, but it's so good and I want more of her. Her flesh is silky smooth, golden in some places, creamy and white in others. She is trembling as she pulls off my T-shirt and my underwear, and I remove her Crashdown uniform, her polka-dotted bra and her boy-cut shorts. "You wear boxers?" I laugh softly, tenderly and she smiles against my mouth.

        "They're more comfortable at work."

        Running my hands down the smooth curve of her back and then up to her hair, I tug it loose from it's ponytail and feel the rope of silken strands cascade over us until I'm drowning in it. Gasping as we kiss and her fingers are on my breasts and my nipples and I feel them throbbing angrily against her palms.

        I push her down, hungry for the taste of her, for all of it. I want to forget. God, do I want to forget. She doesn't taste like rain, thank God. I think, as my tongue drags over her nipples and her flat belly, and I hear her pant, that she tastes like sugar and dust and sunshine. She smells like daylight and vanilla- not musk and night and salt. I'm glad. "Liz," I murmur and she pulls in breaths raggedly.

        Her hands tug at my shoulders and she brings me up to kiss her. "I think..." she mutters, and never finishes her thought as she slides her fingers between my thighs.

        My breath hitches as two of her fingers slam inside me, deep and hard and I can feel my wetness dripping onto her hand. She kisses me and I bite her lip, moaning. "Liz, Liz," I whimper and her mouth is on mine sloppily, cause we're both shivering and I feel her tongue on my lips and chin and I think I'm going to scream.

        My body arches off the bed as she moves her fingers faster and deeper and my head starts to hurt from all the pressure—until I close my eyes and feel the intense heat wash over me and my insides explode around her fingers and I let out a choked series of gasps that don't sound like me at all.

        As it all subsides, I realize I'm not the same Buffy that left Sunnydale and I don't know if I ever will get back to... back to what? Back to the innocence—back to who I was before Angel turned psycho and I had to kill him... kill him...

        "Hey," Liz touches my face and kisses me softly, her thumbs brushing my tears that I didn't even know were there. "You ok?"

        I don't answer, just sit up and lay my hand on her stomach. She lays back, her eyes questioning, yet still dark and hungry. Her skin is washed with a light sweat and I bend, my tongue running down her leg. She jerks and trembles a little. My fingers open her legs and as I taste her, I think that I might love her. Not like I loved him... not like I love him, but I think that... Liz means something to me. More than even I know yet.


        I lie there afterwards, with her, on the edge of sleep but only drifting, when she says drowsily, "I was always afraid of flying, you know."

        I want to laugh but she seems so serious. Her head is cushioned by my neck, her arm draped around my waist as she whispers, "You think it's funny, don't you?" she smiles, I feel the slight scrape of her teeth against my collarbone.

        "I don't think its funny," I answer and caress the dip of her spine as it curves to her lower back. "I always hated those on-ramp things." It's true, I always have. They look like giant mouths- all the better to eat you with, my dear- and as a child they frightened me. Liz drops a kiss on my shoulder and snuggles against me.

        "I've only flown to Florida. But I hate it. I want to go places... but the journey. It's way too scary. All big planes and crashes and—" she falters. "I still love Max, Buffy."

        Reaching for my cigarettes, I light one and take a deep drag of the smoke. I think that she probably minds, but she doesn't say anything. The tip of it glows bright in the darkened room and dusty wind blows through the open window. "I know you do," I respond softly, after a while. "I never expected you to... get over him, Lizzie. That doesn't happen with... with some people."

        She laughs but it's not a sound full of much humour. "God, he's going to tie me to him for the rest of my life, isn't he?" She sits up and rubs her forehead as if it hurts. "Sometimes I wish he had just let me die back then. In the Crashdown. I hate it now... thinking of that moment. I could barely breathe, you know? All this blood was just pouring out of me and he had his hand on the side of my face and his eyes... God, they looked so bright- like all of him was glowing. And I saw things, flashes, images, when he healed me. He broke this bottle of ketchup and tossed it all over me and from that second..." she chokes back a sob, "I was his. It didn't matter if I wanted it or not, I guess."

        I think of the feel of Angel's chest underneath my booted foot. His taunting eyes, his whispered breaths that were words, "Don't worry. I don't bite." Just ghosts now- those words- that man- I think and blink back hot tears that threaten to well from my eyes. "I understand," I say without inflection and she looks down at me, her hair shadowing her face.

        "I think you do," she answers pensively and then lies back down, and we fall asleep, dreaming of things we cannot say- things of yesterday that we're trying to escape.


        Liz is gone when I wake up, which I understand, but it makes me sick for a second, remembering the last time I awoke to find an empty bed and rumpled sheets. I don't shower, partly because I did last night, and partly because I smell like her, and I want to keep that for a few hours.

        Throwing my hair up in a knot, I don my uniform and run to the café. Maria is working, but it's virtually empty- such a hot day that no one feels like leaving their homes, I reason and grab a drink of milkshake from her. She grins, and snarks, "Late much?"

        "Slept in," I answer and chuckle. "Besides, aren't you late, like every day, 'Ria?"

        "True, true," she giggles and slumps against the counter, yawning. "Mr. Parker isn't here anyway. Some business out of town."

        "Yay," I chirp tiredly and she leans against me for a moment, suddenly saying,

        "Are you and Liz trading perfumes? You smell just like her."

        Jerking in shock, I glance up and see Michael watching us from the kitchen. He smirks a little and I say, trying to be smooth, "She did lend me some. And then I bought it. It's nice, don't you think?"

        Maria nods. "I prefer essential oils, but the un-natural stuff's fine to, I guess."

        I look back at Michael, who is still gazing at Maria covertly out of the corner of his eye.

        "Hey Guerin!" I call and he jumps slightly, snapping at me;


        "If you don't concentrate on the job you're going to burn yourself on that big hot grill. Better be careful."

        He scowls and Maria bursts out laughing, shaking her finger at me as she goes to wash tables. She nods to Isabel, Tess and Max as they enter the Crashdown. Max looks uncomfortable and says awkwardly, "How are you, Buffy?"

        I slept with the girl you love, last night, I think, and don't feel guilty, though I have an idea that I should. Smiling at him, a small smile, I say, "I'm ok, thanks to you... thanks for... you know."

        He grins and he looks like an alien. It scares me momentarily. He and Isabel and Tess are more alien than Michael, I decide. They're glassy-eyed strangers to this planet. "I know," he answers. "You're welcome."

        "Can I get you guys something?"

        Isabel looks at me haughtily before responding, "I'll have a diet coke. And the special, I suppose."

        I catch real fear in her eyes. I know why. It's because I know who she is- what she is- and she's terrified. I know that feeling well. Tess and Max order the same thing. I want to gag at the way the blonde hangs onto his every word. My only thought is that she hurts Liz. They both do, and to me- that's wrong.

        "Ok." I hand the order to Michael and then throw down my apron, heading up to Liz's bedroom thoughtfully. She isn't there. The room is empty, sullen and quiet in the daytime. I run my hand down her bedspread, feel the red velvet underneath my fingers and think that it is like her skin.

        "Lizzie?" I call softly out onto the balcony and then notice her. She's curled up in a ball on one of the loungers, a thick blue blanket covering her. Creeping outside, I sit down opposite the dark haired girl and listen to the sounds she makes as she breathes and sleeps. Her diary lies open next to her and for a second I consider not reading it. I shouldn't. Then I see my name and know I have to.

        It's July 25th, I'm Liz Parker, and things are definitely strange.

        I giggle a little when I realize she introduces herself to her own diary. It strikes me as funny and sort of endearing.

        Last night I... I slept with Buffy. It's not like I haven't been thinking about it. Cause you know I have. Some nights it was all I could think about. Her. It's funny- but she's opened up this whole other side of me. This side that Max can't touch or have.

        I still love Max. I told her that- and I don't think she minded. She has her own demons. Sometimes I wonder what brought her here. We know now it wasn't aliens- she was shocked when I told her. Not as shocked as I expected her to be... but something tells me she's seen a lot.

        I woke up this morning early, and watched her sleep for a while. She's beautiful. Blonde and tanned and that kind of gorgeous that I always jealous of before. Plain and simple me. I never thought I'd attract someone as beautiful as her.

        I kiss her and it's sad- I think of her, and I think of Max and how I'm betraying him. And then I think of her again. She has changed me in ways I don't even know- and can't explain. I don't want the old me back though. I like who I've become. This new Liz without Max. Without Kyle.

        Max and Tess came into the Crashdown yesterday and I just left. I couldn't deal with them at all. She's so pretty. I hate her. I really do and I don't feel bad about it. I hate him to. Except... I love him.

        I don't know what he'd say about the whole Buffy and I thing. Probably have a heart attack, knowing Max. It's ok for him to kiss Tess in the rain, but it's not ok for me to have someone else. I think about telling Maria and Michael and then decide I can't. Besides, I think they might be getting back together and I don't want to interrupt that with any new news. Maria deserves happiness. At least one of us should be happy.

        I'm so tired. I should have stayed this morning. I wanted to stay. I miss her already. I don't even miss Max- or at least I've grown so used to missing him that I don't even feel it anymore.

        But I miss Buffy.

        I'm Liz Parker—and I... I actually have fallen in love with someone other than Max Evans. What the hell am I going to do?

        I stop reading and reach out, my thumb brushing her forehead before slipping away. I curl up next to her and cover myself with the blanket. She snuggles up to me in sleep, murmuring contentedly.

        We doze and I think we dream. But I'm not sure if we dream of each other.

        End of part six. Feedback? It's completely needed. It makes me write much, much faster:)

Continue to Part Seven

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