Disclaimer: Nobody so far belongs to me. Liam belongs to Roddenberry-Kirschner, among others. The Roswell characters (so far Liz and Max) belong to people I'll credit next time I do an update. Scott belongs to another bunch of people that I will also give credit to, since I don't want to credit the wrong folks for him. Author's notes: I just wanted Liz to meet Liam. See where it got me? Scott just popped in along with her, though he's from a different series all together.

The Roswell Brigade
by Selma McCrory (Angel Island)
copyright 2000

October 6, 4 AC.

My name is Liz Parker-Evans, and today my world changed again.

I’m getting used to the many varieties of Czechs that I’ve seen so far. Max, Scott, all the others. It’s gotten to the point where meeting them is getting a little boring. But, then again, that was before I met Liam....

* * *

She was late.

Liam sat on the park bench, sunglasses over his eyes and a hat on his head, a ham sandwich in his hand, and prayed that nobody had seen him. Of all the places, couldn’t his contact have chosen someplace... well, a little bit more private? Of course, maybe she knew her home town better than he did.

All he knew about the Roswell cell was that his contact was one Elizabeth Parker-Evans, a biology teacher at West Roswell High School. The park wasn’t far away from the high school, and he hoped that that was why she’d chosen this particular location. Maybe she was grading papers, or whatever schoolteachers did nowadays.

Looking around, he still saw no one coming towards him, except maybe the man and the woman walking up the pavement. They’d pass by the bench in a minute or two.

Except, when they got there, they stopped.

"Hi, like the ham sandwich?" the dark-haired woman asked. "I hope you got it fresh at Campanello’s deli."

This was the signal he’d been waiting for. "I did. I haven’t had it this good since I left California."

"Oh, where?" the woman responded, sounding like she might even be genuinely interested.

"At a small deli called Monticello’s, down in Orange, California."

His contact nodded. "Liz. This is my friend, Scott. He’s with me."

In other words, part of the Roswell cell. "Glad to meet you, Liz."

Liz glanced at her watch. "Hey, it looks like you could use some company. Why don’t you meet me and Scott at the Crashdown cafe around six?"

"Splitting the bill?"

"Of course."

* * *

From the Journal of Elizabeth Parker-Evans (encoded), continued.

I hadn’t intended to be head of our local Liberation cell. It’s just that after all I did with Max, Isabel, and Michael, I kind of got used to seeming normal while everything odd was going on around me. Keeping a Liberation cell intact while being plain old Liz was second nature after having to help our local Czechs.

And I had Scott, bless his soul. He’s had an even rougher life than any of us ever had. The only reason that I’m the leader is that his teenage years are somewhat... checkered, plus he tends to get nervous easily.

But, as head of the cell, I had the authority to take Scott with me. Scott can be very perceptive, sometimes. It’s the Czech side of his half-Czech heritage. He can be pretty paranoid as well, though. Kind of like Michael on a bad day.

I figured that if this wasn’t the head of the Liberation, then Scott would somehow know. Scott and I have worked out a series of signals, and he was able to tell me that Major Kincaid was okay. He’d better be. I’ve invited him to my home turf.

If we have to run again, Max is going to be majorly ticked.

* * *

Liam looked around the Crashdown, which was tacky in a touristy in a way. He wished he’d had Augur look into things for him, but the last thing any of his cell leaders needed was any sort of attention right now. He figured that Liz Parker-Evans knew what she was doing. In the meantime, there were enough science fiction cliches in Roswell to keep his father’s scifi-mad cousin happy.

Keeping an eye on the door, he saw Liz Parker-Evans walk in with her acquaintance, Scott, as well as another dark-haired man that hadn’t been with her before. Come to think of it, all three were dark-haired. Not unusual. Scott was looking over in his direction and soon Liz, Scott, and their third person were sitting down at the table. Scott sat next to him, while Liz and the other man sat together.

The newest arrival looked intently at him, obviously distrustful. "Rein it in, Max," Liz told the new arrival quietly . "Max, this is Liam. I met him in the park. Liam, my husband, Max. He’s going to join us for dinner."

Apparently, either Max knew about Liz’s involvement and the local cell didn’t know that he knew, or they were permissive, or Max whatever-his-surname-was was part of their group. Liam wasn’t sure which possibility he’d bet on.

All he knew is that the three of them were looking at him very intently. Liz opened her mouth to speak.

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