Snapshot · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √

33. Baby Talk

The Bed Store
Saturday morning
(2011) Max is 26, Liz is 25

"How about this one?"

"No."

"This one?"

"Nah."

"And this one?"

"Just doesn't look right."

"Maatt."

"Yes?"

"Could you please pick one?"

"None of them seem right."

"But this one is soft."

"Too soft."

"Too soft? Okay, what about the first one then?"

"That one? Too hard."

Liz sighed. "Come on!"

"You pick one."

"I want us both to like it."

"We can never agree upon anything-"

"Obviously."

"-so why do you insist that we agree on this?"

"Because I plan to spend a lot of time in it. So it needs to be right."

He gave her a smooth smile and snaked an arm around her waist to pull her close. "Isn't it just enough to have me there?"

She arched an incredulous eyebrow. "Do you really want to sleep on the floor?"

"We've done worse."

"Just pick a bed, Evans!" she more or less screamed at him, which tickled his senses into laughter.

She threw her hands up in the air in resignation and turned to walk off, when Max caught her arm and with apologetic laughter encased her in his arms. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not making it easy on you."

She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat against her ear immediately calmed her down. "Can you narrow it down to two at least?"

He kissed the top of her head before looking out over the store, filled with all types of beds.

He hated shopping. All types of shopping. And in his arms was, oddly enough, a girl that didn't like shopping. So the two of them were really hopeless in this area.

They had put off buying a new bed for months. Their old mattress was so worn down that there were definitive indentions after bodies in the foam and the bed frame itself creaked at every movement.

It hadn't bothered them too much until the bed had, during one of their more lively activities that morning, given up and collapsed under the weight of their warm and sweaty bodies.

It hadn't really left them with much choice but to make a run to the bed store.

"Yeah... I think so."

Still with her face buried in his chest, her voice was partly muffled as she asked, "Which one goes best with the rest of the room?"

"Uhh..." he grumbled, concentrating hard.

She smiled and curled her hands up the inside of his shirt. "Okay. Which one do I look best naked on?"

"Both," he answered without hesitation.

She grinned. "Good answer."

"Maybe you should make the final call," he said.

She shook her head, running her hands up over his shoulder blades. "I don't want to see any more beds. Ever."