The Five Day Journey to You

Author: Bennie
Rating: NC17 for language (lol; cheesy accents are so much fun ...) and sex
Disclaimer: I own nothing Roswell.
Spoilers: Up to but not including Meet the Dupes
Character Focus: Zan/Liz, though there's also some Rath/Lonnie and Zan/Ava to begin with. Zan POV
Author's Note: I was going through a dry spell. We're talking a staggering-to-the-sludgy-well-through-a-sun-baked-desert Dry Spell. Everything was just coming out awkward, you know? So, on a friend's advice, I tried something different, a true toss-off of a fic. It's about as close to PWP as you can get without being totally plotless, but I have to admit I've been having fun with it because I've never done a Liz/Zan before.
Summary: Liz Meets a Dupe ... the right way. (*arched eyebrow, poorly suppressed giggle*)

This fic won "Zan, any Position, any Form" in the Boardello of Fanfiction's S.T.D. Awards.


New York

"Yo, Zan, check it out. There's some chick dreamin' 'bout ya."

He looked up at his sister, irritated and not a little wary. He hated it when she played mind games with him. "What tha fuck're you goin' on about?"

She rolled her eyes and dropped on the couch next to him. Rath and Ava were out, clubbing or fucking or something, and she'd been having some fun of her own. "I was in some chick's dream, an' I'm tellin' ya, she was totally hot on ya."

He studied her face and decided she was telling the truth. "Anyone we know?"

She shrugged. "Nah. Looked cornball, tho'. Real cherry."

He frowned. He didn't know any chicks like that. "When?"

"Right now," she said, grinning wolfishly. "Thought you'd wanna see for yourself."

"Bring me in," he ordered, and obediently she lifted a hand to meet his.

Instantly he was in and following as she reinitiated her dreamwalk, and he saw what she meant. There he was, on top of some girl and going at it real energetically. He didn't know her, but she sure seemed to be enjoying herself. And why shouldn't she? He was killer in the sack, after all. She'd gotten that much right.

He grinned at the thought.

Snapping out of it, he began looking around. There - a letter on her dresser had an address where she could see it, and he memorized it, figuring it might come in handy later.

"Oh, Max, Max, don't stop," he heard suddenly, and he looked over. Finally catching a good look at the guy in the bed with her, he realised that it wasn't him after all. Well, it was, but it was a version of himself he'd never been. And who the hell was Max?

Annoyed, he felt the urge to mess with her a little. See how she'd react to the real him, when he didn't look so fucking tame.

The girl's eyes grew huge as 'Max' grew tattoos, piercings, and spiked hair. Zan waited smugly, knowing she'd start shrieking anytime soon.

But his smirk faded as she started smiling instead.

"Ooh," she breathed, running her hand up his arm and over one of his shoulder tats. Suddenly she bit her lip and rolled, forcing DreamZan over on his back. He didn't fight her, just moaned as she started grinding her hips into him, her mouth finding his nipple ring and tugging playfully.

Behind him, Lonnie snorted with laughter, but he ignored her.

Zan swallowed to moisten a suddenly dry mouth, wishing he was the one underneath her after all. It wasn't like he didn't get laid whenever he wanted, but it wasn't like he and Ava felt any particular loyalty to each other, either. And there was something so - delicious - about the whole thing. He studied the girl a little, and decided that raunchy fantasy life or not, Lonnie was right. This chick was cherry. She didn't move like someone with experience. But was she enjoying herself? She was.

And the whole thing kinda turned him on.

"Go find th' others," he told Lonnie, who was leaning against the wall, chewing her lip in amusement. "We gotta check 'er out. Headin' t' New Mex'co tomorrah."

She knew better than to say anything. She'd had her fun, so she just looked at him knowingly, cocked an eyebrow, and disappeared.

Zan forgot all about his sister as he watched the couple on the bed and considered the possibilities. After all, this chick had to be investigated, didn't she?

With a cry of disappointment, the girl swore as the figure underneath her disappeared. "Why, Max? Why do you always have to leave me? Damn it!"

"Don't get yer' panties in a twist," Zan drawled from the side of the bed, and she looked up.

"You left me. Again."

She sounded so defeated. It bugged Zan. How was he supposed to have fun with her if she was all mopey and shit?

"Nah, just grabbin' somethin' to drink," he improvised smoothly, pleased when she looked interested at the sight of champagne in his hand.

"Thought you couldn't drink," she said doubtfully. "Messes with your alien side."

Zan almost dropped the bottle. She did know him somehow. And she knew about alien stuff. None of them could hold their alcohol for shit.

His resolve hardened as she sat up on the bed, letting him get a good look at her. Grinning, he climbed up next to her and pushed her back, giving him a prime angle to pour some frothy liquid over her small but definitely doable tits.

"But, sweets, anythin's possible here, don'tcha know? And call me Zan."

With that he bent down and started licking the champagne off. Underneath him, she giggled and moaned.

Pouting, she scolded him. "Don't tease, Ma ... I mean, Zan."

He grinned and in one swift movement he had her back against the bed and her thighs spread wide before him. This was a dream and he slid inside her easily, immediately finding a rhythm he liked.

Her eyes widened when he ran one hand down under her leg and then pulled it upwards, but she caught on after a moment and shifted so that her leg draped lightly over his shoulder. Pleased to find her so limber and so open to him, he penetrated her fully, his balls squeezing between them every time he pushed forward.

"Oh, wow," she breathed, back arching, and he took the time to study her wondering face, knowing that her dream life aside, she really was innocent. His proof came when she did, spasming and panting and looking feverishly surprised. Immensely gratified, he increased his pace, sweat beading on his brow as he began to climax himself.

But before he could, a harsh buzzing noise intruded on their fantasy: her alarm clock.

Zan was jerked rudely back into reality. He opened his eyes, suddenly hating the cold light of their sewer home after the warmth of her bedside lamps.

"D'scover anythin' else, bro?"

He scowled and waved her off, knowing that seeing Lonnie's knowing smirk would be too much for him right now. There was no denying the bulge in his lap or the way he was panting like he'd just run a marathon, and he wouldn't bother trying.

Carefully, he stood. "I said ta go find Rath 'n Ava," he growled, teeth clenched.

He knew Lonnie was making faces as she stood and grabbed a jacket off a nearby chair, but she was smart and she didn't say anything. Not while she was still within earshot, anyway.

"Holy shit," he whispered into the dank darkness of an abandoned sewer line. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember everything he could about that dream.

For … security reasons. Yeah, that was it. This chick could be a threat or something.

She definitely needed checking out.


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