Title: Steam --- Author: Radiogirl ---- Rating: T (Just to be safe)

Credit: I own none of the characters of Roswell and none of the original ideas from the show. This story, however, is mine.

Summary: Who is Liz? She shows up mysteriously after a rainstorm with no memory of her past, but she stirs something deep inside of Max and the others, forcing them to question everything they know and attempt to piece together the scattered shards of her memories.

A/N- This idea just sort of came to me tonight, so I apologize for the shortness of the introductory chapter and I'm hoping it makes sense. I hope you all like the idea though. I'm hoping that it can seriously become something great. So, read and enjoy, and please review- with support and guidance I know that this story can truly blossom into something wonderful.

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She appeared after the rain. The ground was still thick with moisture, clinging in droplets to the blades of grass and scattered across the pavement in a shiny sheet of reflection. The sun was setting deep on the horizon, tinting the dim light orange and spreading it across the desert. That is what Max remembered from the moment he first saw her.

The knock came quick and frantic on the window, making Max's eyes draw quickly to the window. The shades were drawn, he remembered, because the rain always made him sad. He could remember days from his childhood, sitting in front of the living room window with Isabel watching the rain fall in sheets outside their house, knowing that the rain meant another day ruined. He always hated the rain. His eyes fixed on the drawn shades as the knock repeated and he sighed.

"Michael, why do you have the inability to use the front door?" He muttered, setting his schoolbooks to the side and pushing himself off of the bed. "What on earth could be important enough to come over in the rain to knock on my window and tell me?" He asked, pulling the curtain aside, letting the faded sunlight push its way into the room.

Max stood for a moment, taken aback at the sight in front of him. Michael wasn't standing outside his window as he had been so many times in the past. Her body was a crumpled form on the grass outside of his window. Instantly Max sprang into action, unlocking the window and pulling it open. He climbed over the window sill and crouched down, surveying the form in front of him for a moment.

He could tell it was a girl. Her long dark hair was matted in clumps, forming a damp blanket over her face. Max reached down and tentatively pulled the hair to the side and he looked down at the girl. Her features were small and innocent and her eyes were closed. Her face was unfamiliar, but it stirred something deep inside of him, and as he looked at the girl who'd appeared outside his window on that rainy day, he knew she meant something. Max always hated the rain, but it brought her to him. These are the things Max remembered from the moment he first saw Liz.