Exhausted

Author: Debbie
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Nope, nope, nope. Don't own a thing.
Author's Note: I may be a recent convert to Polarism, but I have worshipped Whiteotter from afar for her astounding PN for months now. I swore I would never write anything Polar, because the very idea of having anything compared to that wondrous work was positively terrifying. However… I just loved that "She's exhausting" line from VLV so much that I had to do something with it.
Thank you Ash and Bennie for your soothing words of encouragement.
Feedback: This is my first Polar fic. Feedback greatly appreciated.

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"Michael?"

"Yeah?" I asked, tossing more pistachios into my mouth.

Max shifted his position on the couch so he could look at me. "What did you mean when you said Liz was exhausting?"

"When did I say that?" I turned my eyes back to 'Braveheart.'

"When we first got here," he persisted. "You interrupted the conversation I was having with her, practically shoved her out the door, and said 'Whew. She's exhausting, isn't she?'" Max's brow furrowed a little, but otherwise he had the same "I'm-going-to-show-as-little-emotion-as-possible" look he always wore.

I stalled a little, pretending to be engrossed in the movie. Dammit - why had I said that stupid line? Max would never understand -he wouldn't have picked up on that word and asked me about it if he felt what I did. He had only the shell of Liz, and he didn't even know it. How could I explain it?

'She's exhausting because she's made challenge myself, made me believe in myself. I can no longer hide behind my insecurities, not when she's actually made me start to have confidence. Liz doesn't put me down - not like you or Iz or Maria - but she doesn't let me get away with anything either. She's made me face parts of myself I've avoided all my life.

'She's exhausting because my life is a lot busier with her in it. Everything is calculated to make it easier for us to spend time together. I work as many hours as I do so I can see Liz at the Crashdown. Even when we're really busy we talk a lot more this way than we ever did when I was just eating there. We can talk without it seeming suspicious. I've started going to school again just so I would have half a chance of keeping up with her when she starts going off on one of her scientific explanations. And again, this way I have an excuse to spend even more time with her … as a study partner. I've climbed that fire escape ladder a lot more than you have, Maxwell. A lot more.

'She's exhausting because she's made me see love in a new light. She's made me see everything in a new light. Love is not demanding as you are, or given in pity as Isabel's is. It is not abusive as Hank's was - not that he loved me, but I didn't know that when I was a kid. I just figured that's what dads did. Liz's love just gives, with no demands or expectations. And because she asks for nothing, she makes me want to give her everything, protect her from everything. I've died inside when I thought she was in danger, and I've lost countless nights of sleep worrying about how I could possibly leave her if we ever find a way to get back home. And I've lost even more sleep just by being with her. One kiss, one touch is never enough for me. I want - I *need* to touch her everywhere, to kiss her lips and her hair and her belly. You bet I'm exhausted.'

"Oh, you know," I said carelessly, reaching for more pistachios. "Just 'cause it's Liz, you know?"

And then I changed the subject.

End.