most of the time i was a polarist when shipping couples on roswell. but every once in a while i explored other options. i started out as a dreamer, but by season 2 was a solid polarist. then toward the end of the show's run i saw the appeal of the loyalist ship. this fanfic is one of the few loyalist ones i wrote, and i have to say, i still kinda like it. i may be a polarist first, but i'm a loyalist second. liz was my favorite character on this show, so my ships basically revolve around her.
a while back melinda metz had this twitter thread about liz and the fact that she had been whitewashed on the television show, even though she was latina in the books. even though she had been whitewashed, i think there was a part of me that always thought of her as latina. and that's a big part of why i loved her.
anyway the first part of this cheesily named story is after the jump. (you get an explanation for the cheesiness early on.)
Title: Chocolate Velvet
Author: Eva
Disclaimer: Fox, UPN, Jason Katims, and Melinda Metz can all claim ownership. I’m just trying to treat them right.
Category: Kyle and Liz
Rating: PG, for right now.
Summary: Spoilers to Graduation, without the flash-forward. It’s only been a few months since graduation; Max and Liz aren’t married yet, nor will they ever be.
Author’s Note: I’ve been a long-time, die-hard Kyle Valenti fan. But this is my first attempt at a purely loyalist fic. This could end here, or I could continue it. Just depends on the feedback I get.
I watch her sometimes.
When it’s her turn to drive the van.
When she stares up at the sky when we stop to rest and stretch our legs.
When she’s nestled in his arms with her eyes closed, pretending that the moment is enough for her.
When she’s laughing with Maria and Isabel about some silly girl thing, pretending that this life was all she ever wanted.
I know it’s not.
So I watch her.
Never too obviously. I wouldn’t want her to suspect.
But I think she knows regardless.
I thought I’d let go of my feelings long ago. Back in high school when I just accepted that Max Evans had a hold on her that I would never share. But they were always there.
For a while I fell in love. Vicky Delaney. Tess Harding. Isabel Evans Ramirez.
But I was just fooling myself. From the moment we first spoke in the fourth grade I knew Liz Parker was the girl for me.
That she was it. I only wish I could have been enough for her.
“Are you okay?”
Kyle Valenti looked up from his place on the concrete pavement of the playground and found himself drowning in the concern in the most beautiful pair of brown eyes he had ever seen. Chocolate velvet. That’s what they were. He’d read that on one of the back covers of the books his mother had left behind.
Groaning as he sat up, he tried to remember what circumstances had him lying at her feet. Somehow he suspected he’d never really stray from that point.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he glanced at her consideringly, “You’re Elizabeth Parker, right?”
She smiled at him shyly, nodding her head in reply.
“Liz! Liz, chica, you’ve got to come see what Alex—“ she frowned as she looked off across the playground.
“I’ve got to go. When Maria calls you have to answer,” she paused on the brink of leaving, “I’ll see you around maybe?”
He nodded, definitely. He stood up and grinned, picking up the football he’d tripped over. Before running back to the grassy part of the grounds where his buddies were standing around waiting impatiently for him to get back so they could continue their game. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate though. Chocolate velvet was the only thing running through his brain.
“What are you thinking?”
Her voice jolts me back into the present. We’re the only ones up at this hour. It’s three am and the rest of them are sleeping in the back.
“I was just remembering that first time we ever spoke,” I volunteer, surprised by the fact that I don’t feel the need to hide this from her.
Maybe I’ve just had enough with the lying. After all didn’t we leave Roswell to escape all that? I’ve left everything behind but Liz. And perhaps it’s about time she knew that.
“On the playground in the fourth grade. Oh, Kyle, I was so worried when I saw you fall. And then you said my name, I never even realized that you knew who I was.”
“Liz, everyone knew who you were. At least all the guys did.”
“Oh.”
Her whisper fades into silence and I watch the road ahead of us. We’re on the highway somewhere in the middle of Montana, and I’m wondering how much further we’ll have to go before we can settle down. Being on the road is no kind of life. Granted I had no idea what I was doing in Roswell, I didn’t think I had a future. Maybe here I have a chance.
Ever since Max Evans saved me, I’ve been lost. I think I knew back then that I’d never be the football star I’d dreamt of being since my mom left.
And maybe that was for the best. After all, she didn’t want me when I was just a normal kid, why’d she want me now that I was a freak, an alien freak.
But I wanted a life. I wanted something I could make my own.
In my wildest dreams, I wanted to be with Liz. Have the house and picket fence and two-point-five kids.
But those were just dreams.
Like the silver and moonlight that bathed the front cabin of the van. Like the chocolate velvet in the books my mom read.
Maybe that’s why she left because she couldn’t let go of the dream.
Life with a small town sheriff with a crazy father-in-law and bratty kid could hardly be that.
But if I could have what she had, I know I wouldn’t throw it all away.
“Why?”
Her voice once again, asking questions I don’t even fathom to comprehend. I can’t even begin to explain.
“You were always beautiful. Your eyes, this may sound cheesy, but I remember thinking that they reminded me of chocolate velvet.”
Again my honesty surprises me. It’s so much more than that. But I can give her some small part of me. And pray that it’s enough.
My honesty surprises her. She half-gasps, half-laughs, before saying, “Chocolate velvet?”
“I read that in one of my mom’s books. I thought it fitting.”
I feel her gaze on me.
I concentrate on switching lanes. I fiddle with the stereo a bit, turning it on, and making sure the volume is low enough, so as to not wake the others. I need the distraction, but I don’t want to give up this time I have alone with her.
“You never speak of her,” she says softly.
“What is there to say? She left so long ago.”
“It still hurts.”
I nod. It frightens me, how much she sees. I wonder if she knows.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s okay. Not your fault.”
We sit in silence listening to the lulling sounds of soft rock coming through the speakers.
“I wasn’t talking about that,” she says.
My heart lurches.
“Oh.”
Now it’s my turn to let the silence fall. I have no idea what she means.
Kyle frowned. How was he going to get the words out without sounding stupid? She’d been helping him with his pre-algebra homework so he knew how smart she was.
“Hey Liz,” he greeted her as she slid into the booth opposite him.
“Hi Kyle, so tell me…how’d you do?”
For a moment he stared at her. Disconcerted by the brightness of her smile. He shuffled in his seat and slowly passed her the paper he’d been folding and unfolding mindlessly.
She took it from his nerveless grasp eagerly and squealed at the bright red A penned on its front. She moved from her side of the table and embraced him quickly.
He held her when he felt her pull back.
She stiffened and then let herself fall into the hug. For a while, they just sat there. Her arms around his neck, her nose nestled in the crook of his shoulders. His arms rubbing her back, his nose breathing in the scent of her freshly shampooed hair.
“Liz?” he asked his voice muffled by the shimmering cascade of her hair.
“What is it, Kyle? Is something wrong? You don’t seem yourself,” she pulled back a little to look into the deep blue of his irises.
“I just…I wanted to ask you something.”
She looked at him expectantly. “Well?” she prompted.
“Do you want to have dinner sometime?”
“Like a date?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Cool.”
It had all been so much easier back then.
Aliens and the wackiness they brought along hadn’t yet invaded our lives. Or maybe that was just my excuse. Because deep down I know I’ve never been enough for her.
“Where’d you go?” she asks. I feel her gaze. Intense. Curious.
I don’t pretend to misunderstand her, “That night at the Crashdown when I first asked you out.”
“Kyle,” she says. I can’t read the tone in her voice. It’s warning maybe, a clear ‘don’t go there,’ but at the same time, I sense aching. Perhaps the wish to go back.
“It’s okay. I know. It’s stupid to dwell.”
My anger surprises me. I know it’s stupid to dwell. I’ve always known that. It’s the one lesson I’ve been taught with any sort of consistency in my life. ‘What if's are nothing but heartache. I should know better by now.
My anger surprises her. I hear the quick intake of air. A gasp that is barely there.
“Kyle,” she says again. This time she’s pleading. But I don’t know what she wants.
I turn to look at her for an instant.
Chocolate velvet.
I want to drown in her gaze. I don’t say anything as I look back at the desolate road.
She looks towards the back of the van. They’re all asleep curled up in their seats.
“It’s not enough,” she says.
“What is?” I reply sardonically.
“This life, Kyle. I want more than this running. Do you think it will ever stop?”
“Well, the next rest stop is fifteen miles down the road.”
“I’m not kidding. Don’t put me off,” she whispers fiercely. I wonder how she knew I was doing that.
“What do you want me to say, Liz? Of course, I want more. But I don’t think I’ll ever get what I want.”
“What do you want?”
I respond quietly, sincerely, “More than this running.”
She’s worrying her bottom lip. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she considers me. “But do you want me?”
Her question echoes in the darkness of night. In my heart. In my head. It rings in my ears. And I’m confused.
I don’t know what it means.
a while back melinda metz had this twitter thread about liz and the fact that she had been whitewashed on the television show, even though she was latina in the books. even though she had been whitewashed, i think there was a part of me that always thought of her as latina. and that's a big part of why i loved her.
anyway the first part of this cheesily named story is after the jump. (you get an explanation for the cheesiness early on.)
Title: Chocolate Velvet
Author: Eva
Disclaimer: Fox, UPN, Jason Katims, and Melinda Metz can all claim ownership. I’m just trying to treat them right.
Category: Kyle and Liz
Rating: PG, for right now.
Summary: Spoilers to Graduation, without the flash-forward. It’s only been a few months since graduation; Max and Liz aren’t married yet, nor will they ever be.
Author’s Note: I’ve been a long-time, die-hard Kyle Valenti fan. But this is my first attempt at a purely loyalist fic. This could end here, or I could continue it. Just depends on the feedback I get.
Part 1
When it’s her turn to drive the van.
When she stares up at the sky when we stop to rest and stretch our legs.
When she’s nestled in his arms with her eyes closed, pretending that the moment is enough for her.
When she’s laughing with Maria and Isabel about some silly girl thing, pretending that this life was all she ever wanted.
I know it’s not.
So I watch her.
Never too obviously. I wouldn’t want her to suspect.
But I think she knows regardless.
I thought I’d let go of my feelings long ago. Back in high school when I just accepted that Max Evans had a hold on her that I would never share. But they were always there.
For a while I fell in love. Vicky Delaney. Tess Harding. Isabel Evans Ramirez.
But I was just fooling myself. From the moment we first spoke in the fourth grade I knew Liz Parker was the girl for me.
That she was it. I only wish I could have been enough for her.
“Are you okay?”
Kyle Valenti looked up from his place on the concrete pavement of the playground and found himself drowning in the concern in the most beautiful pair of brown eyes he had ever seen. Chocolate velvet. That’s what they were. He’d read that on one of the back covers of the books his mother had left behind.
Groaning as he sat up, he tried to remember what circumstances had him lying at her feet. Somehow he suspected he’d never really stray from that point.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he glanced at her consideringly, “You’re Elizabeth Parker, right?”
She smiled at him shyly, nodding her head in reply.
“Liz! Liz, chica, you’ve got to come see what Alex—“ she frowned as she looked off across the playground.
“I’ve got to go. When Maria calls you have to answer,” she paused on the brink of leaving, “I’ll see you around maybe?”
He nodded, definitely. He stood up and grinned, picking up the football he’d tripped over. Before running back to the grassy part of the grounds where his buddies were standing around waiting impatiently for him to get back so they could continue their game. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate though. Chocolate velvet was the only thing running through his brain.
“What are you thinking?”
Her voice jolts me back into the present. We’re the only ones up at this hour. It’s three am and the rest of them are sleeping in the back.
“I was just remembering that first time we ever spoke,” I volunteer, surprised by the fact that I don’t feel the need to hide this from her.
Maybe I’ve just had enough with the lying. After all didn’t we leave Roswell to escape all that? I’ve left everything behind but Liz. And perhaps it’s about time she knew that.
“On the playground in the fourth grade. Oh, Kyle, I was so worried when I saw you fall. And then you said my name, I never even realized that you knew who I was.”
“Liz, everyone knew who you were. At least all the guys did.”
“Oh.”
Her whisper fades into silence and I watch the road ahead of us. We’re on the highway somewhere in the middle of Montana, and I’m wondering how much further we’ll have to go before we can settle down. Being on the road is no kind of life. Granted I had no idea what I was doing in Roswell, I didn’t think I had a future. Maybe here I have a chance.
Ever since Max Evans saved me, I’ve been lost. I think I knew back then that I’d never be the football star I’d dreamt of being since my mom left.
And maybe that was for the best. After all, she didn’t want me when I was just a normal kid, why’d she want me now that I was a freak, an alien freak.
But I wanted a life. I wanted something I could make my own.
In my wildest dreams, I wanted to be with Liz. Have the house and picket fence and two-point-five kids.
But those were just dreams.
Like the silver and moonlight that bathed the front cabin of the van. Like the chocolate velvet in the books my mom read.
Maybe that’s why she left because she couldn’t let go of the dream.
Life with a small town sheriff with a crazy father-in-law and bratty kid could hardly be that.
But if I could have what she had, I know I wouldn’t throw it all away.
“Why?”
Her voice once again, asking questions I don’t even fathom to comprehend. I can’t even begin to explain.
“You were always beautiful. Your eyes, this may sound cheesy, but I remember thinking that they reminded me of chocolate velvet.”
Again my honesty surprises me. It’s so much more than that. But I can give her some small part of me. And pray that it’s enough.
My honesty surprises her. She half-gasps, half-laughs, before saying, “Chocolate velvet?”
“I read that in one of my mom’s books. I thought it fitting.”
I feel her gaze on me.
I concentrate on switching lanes. I fiddle with the stereo a bit, turning it on, and making sure the volume is low enough, so as to not wake the others. I need the distraction, but I don’t want to give up this time I have alone with her.
“You never speak of her,” she says softly.
“What is there to say? She left so long ago.”
“It still hurts.”
I nod. It frightens me, how much she sees. I wonder if she knows.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s okay. Not your fault.”
We sit in silence listening to the lulling sounds of soft rock coming through the speakers.
“I wasn’t talking about that,” she says.
My heart lurches.
“Oh.”
Now it’s my turn to let the silence fall. I have no idea what she means.
Kyle frowned. How was he going to get the words out without sounding stupid? She’d been helping him with his pre-algebra homework so he knew how smart she was.
“Hey Liz,” he greeted her as she slid into the booth opposite him.
“Hi Kyle, so tell me…how’d you do?”
For a moment he stared at her. Disconcerted by the brightness of her smile. He shuffled in his seat and slowly passed her the paper he’d been folding and unfolding mindlessly.
She took it from his nerveless grasp eagerly and squealed at the bright red A penned on its front. She moved from her side of the table and embraced him quickly.
He held her when he felt her pull back.
She stiffened and then let herself fall into the hug. For a while, they just sat there. Her arms around his neck, her nose nestled in the crook of his shoulders. His arms rubbing her back, his nose breathing in the scent of her freshly shampooed hair.
“Liz?” he asked his voice muffled by the shimmering cascade of her hair.
“What is it, Kyle? Is something wrong? You don’t seem yourself,” she pulled back a little to look into the deep blue of his irises.
“I just…I wanted to ask you something.”
She looked at him expectantly. “Well?” she prompted.
“Do you want to have dinner sometime?”
“Like a date?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Cool.”
It had all been so much easier back then.
Aliens and the wackiness they brought along hadn’t yet invaded our lives. Or maybe that was just my excuse. Because deep down I know I’ve never been enough for her.
“Where’d you go?” she asks. I feel her gaze. Intense. Curious.
I don’t pretend to misunderstand her, “That night at the Crashdown when I first asked you out.”
“Kyle,” she says. I can’t read the tone in her voice. It’s warning maybe, a clear ‘don’t go there,’ but at the same time, I sense aching. Perhaps the wish to go back.
“It’s okay. I know. It’s stupid to dwell.”
My anger surprises me. I know it’s stupid to dwell. I’ve always known that. It’s the one lesson I’ve been taught with any sort of consistency in my life. ‘What if's are nothing but heartache. I should know better by now.
My anger surprises her. I hear the quick intake of air. A gasp that is barely there.
“Kyle,” she says again. This time she’s pleading. But I don’t know what she wants.
I turn to look at her for an instant.
Chocolate velvet.
I want to drown in her gaze. I don’t say anything as I look back at the desolate road.
She looks towards the back of the van. They’re all asleep curled up in their seats.
“It’s not enough,” she says.
“What is?” I reply sardonically.
“This life, Kyle. I want more than this running. Do you think it will ever stop?”
“Well, the next rest stop is fifteen miles down the road.”
“I’m not kidding. Don’t put me off,” she whispers fiercely. I wonder how she knew I was doing that.
“What do you want me to say, Liz? Of course, I want more. But I don’t think I’ll ever get what I want.”
“What do you want?”
I respond quietly, sincerely, “More than this running.”
She’s worrying her bottom lip. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she considers me. “But do you want me?”
Her question echoes in the darkness of night. In my heart. In my head. It rings in my ears. And I’m confused.
I don’t know what it means.
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