Title: Tomorrow Morning

Author: Heavenli24

Pairings/Couples/Category: M/L

Rating: TEEN

Disclaimer: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, WB, and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement is intended.

Summary: This is just a totally fluffy one-part; sort of a day in the life of the Mr and Mrs Max Evans. Max is away on a business trip and Liz is at home, waiting for his call, a call that was promised on the first night he was away. It's been three days, and still she's heard nothing. Why hasn't he called?

Author's Note: This is a song fic based on 'Tomorrow Morning' by Jack Johnson (hence the title) and is just a little piece of fluff that I just couldn't get out of my head. It probably contains a ton of romantic clichés, but I just had to write it!


Well that's all right, if that's all right,

Two thousand miles but still that's all right

Oh, Max . I sigh as I gently stroke the soft, dark hair of my sleeping daughter. Our sleeping daughter. I miss you .

Okay, so my head knows that he'll be back tomorrow morning, but my heart is just missing him like crazy. He's two thousand miles away, and has been for three days. Three days without seeing my husband. Without even talking to my husband. He told me he'd call as soon as he arrived in Philadelphia, but so far, there's been no word from him. I hope he hasn't run into trouble or anything; they've been having bad storms on the East coast lately. His cell phone finally conked out last week (he'd had it for years – I'm surprised it lasted as long as it did) and he hasn't gotten around to buying a new one yet. But he did say he'd call me from the hotel. I would have called him myself, but I kind of lost the scrap of paper that I hurriedly wrote the hotel name and number on before he left on Sunday night. We'd already put Emma to bed and were so busy making the most of our time alone before his best friend Michael arrived to drive him to the airport, that I didn't pay much attention to the details of his trip.

And that's all right, if that's all right,
I'll see you in the morning if that's all right

As I watch Emma, so peaceful in slumber, a smile creeps over my face. She's just beautiful, a perfect combination of Max and myself. She turns four next week and Max has promised to bring her back something special from Philadelphia. He works for an engineering company and is out there on business this week. He's not an engineer himself, but deals more with the management and business side of things. It's not unusual for him to have business meetings out of town, but he's never been this far away before. Two thousand miles; it feels like a world away, especially with no communication between us so far.

Emma stirs slightly beneath my hand and I realise that I've been sitting beside her bed for almost half an hour. I place a tender kiss to her forehead and silently stand up. With one last look at my sleeping angel, I leave her room and pull the door to. The smile remains on my face as I walk downstairs and to the living room. Our little baby is getting so big now. She's recently migrated to a 'big girl's bed' and got so excited when Max and I led her upstairs one evening and showed her the new big bed in her room. She's such a wonderful child and I love her to bits. In fact, I announce that fact to Max so often that he's getting a complex about being second best in my life. Of course, that couldn't be further from the truth. My daughter may be the most precious thing in my life, but Max…he's my whole world. I love him so much, there aren't even words to describe it. There is no way I could live without him and I do my best to make sure he knows that; and you know what the most amazing part is? Even after almost ten years together, six of them married, he can still set my body alight with just one look. But what makes my life that much better is knowing that he loves our daughter as much as I do, maybe even more; and that in turn makes my love for him burn that much brighter.

I sink down into the large, soft cushions of the couch, part of a cosy three-piece suite in dark blue that we both fell in love with at first glance, and curl my feet under me so that I can lean against the armrest. I let out a sigh of complete contentment as I sink into the sofa and feel my tired muscles relax. It's been a busy few days, especially without Max around to help out. Each morning I drop Emma off at her playgroup for a couple of hours while I run some errands and get the grocery shopping done, then I pick her up at twelve and we go home to fix some lunch, after which Emma takes her nap. In the afternoon, I'll get the chores and housework done and get started on cooking dinner, all of which Emma finds great pleasure in 'helping' me with – you try doing chores with a three-year-old and see how long it takes you! But, I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's fascinating watching her discover new things and I love teaching her about them. This afternoon however, I arranged to have a few of Emma's preschool friends round to play, without considering the fact that since Max wasn't home yet, I'd have to do everything in the evening as well. Usually, he'll help me with the dishes and then get Emma ready for bed, thereby giving me some time to relax. But no such luck today!

Once I'm settled on the couch, I reach for the TV remote and rewind the tape in the VCR so I can catch up with the daytime soap that I record at lunchtime. I don't have time to sit down and watch it during the day, so that's what the evening is for. Despite the fact that he claims soap operas are complete nonsense and a waste of good television potential, somehow Max always seems to find his way to the living room after Emma's in bed and then he sits with me and watches it too.

I let out a relieved breath as the tape reaches the beginning of today's episode and I press play on the VCR remote, but just as the programme starts, the phone rings. I roll my eyes and pause the tape. It's probably the mother of one of Emma's friends, wishing to thank me for entertaining her child this afternoon and wanting to arrange another play date.

"Hello?" I pick up the phone and speak into the receiver.

"Honey, I'm so sorry – " He sounds almost breathless, as if he's been running, but I'm so pleased to hear his voice that I cut him off mid-sentence.

"Max, is that really you? You were supposed to call me days ago," I scold, although I'm not mad, just relieved that I'm finally able to talk to him.

"I know, sweetie and I'm sorry. I've been trying to call since Monday, but they've been having trouble with the phones here." Well, he certainly sounds apologetic, and a little distant, which only adds credit to his phone trouble statement, so I guess I'll have to let this one slide.

What would you do if I wrote you a song
Would you give me some loving when I get home
Or would you be mad at me if I had a hard time
Getting a hold of you, I try all the time

"Why, what happened?" I ask in concern.

"You know we've had storms here the past few days? Well, one of them knocked down practically a whole network of phone lines so I couldn't call you from the hotel," he explains. "And before you ask, the hotel's still on a dial up Internet service, so I couldn't e-mail either."

"Okay…" I'll accept that. For now. But I'm sure there must have been somewhere in the city that had a connection he could have used.

"But the minute I heard they'd fixed the connection, I ran straight up here to call you," he continues. So, that explains the breathlessness in his voice. "I've missed you. So much."

I smile. "I've missed you too. But God, your daughter's a handful when there's only one of us here!"

"So now she's my daughter, huh?" he laughs.

"That's right!" I chuckle. "No, really, she's been great this week. Missing her daddy though."

"And I'm missing her too."

"But I made the stupid mistake of agreeing to look after six three- and four-year-olds this afternoon. Hence the tiredness." I tell him.

"Now, that was silly, wasn't it? Honestly, Liz, I don't know what goes on in your head half the time," he tuts.

"But, you love me anyway, right?"

"'Course I do. Besides, I have to, you're my wife," he jokes.

"Max, really! I don't know why I put up with you sometimes!" I roll my eyes.

It might not seem like it, but I love this teasing nature of our relationship. I suppose you could say it's like verbal foreplay. The sound of his soft throaty laughter and over the phone just gets me all hot and bothered. In fact, maybe it's a good thing he hasn't been able to call. At least that way, I haven't been left worked up and frustrated all week!

"Because you love me too," comes his cheeky reply.

"I really, really do," I admit. "Oh, Max. Why can't you just be here with me right now, and not on the other side of the country?"

He chuckles again. "As much as I would love that, hun, my plane doesn't leave for another twelve hours."

"Fine. But, you just make sure you keep your mind on the fact that your gorgeous wife is at home all alone, thinking about you, while you're out on the town tonight, gallivanting about with your colleagues."

And I'll bet that you don't know anybody that could be so bad
But if you did you'd be wondering where I'm at
Well, I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

I know that he's not like some of his work friends, who certainly like to make the most of being in an unfamiliar city, halfway across the country from their wives and girlfriends, but I can't resist teasing him about it. It's that foreplay thing again.

"Liz! You know that I'm not – "

"I know, Max, you're not like that. I also know that since it's gone eleven pm there, you're most likely turning in for the night now anyway."

"Damn, you know me too well!"

"Yep, that I do," I grin.

"So, what are…up to…?" he asks, but for some reason, he keeps fading out and I can hear a hissing noise. It must be a bad connection on his end, what with the stormy weather and all.

"Sorry, Max. You're breaking up, I can't hear you too well."

"Hang on…" he says, and then I hear shuffling around as if he's trying to find better reception. I'm tempted to mention that since he's on a landline, it probably won't help, but I don't.

What would you do if I sang you this song
The connection is bad but that's only the phone
'Cause when my words kiss your ear, I'll be right there
The message is long because baby, this is your song

"Okay, how's this?" his voice returns a few moments later. He sounds clearer now.

"Good, I can hear you now."

"Great, so, I was just wondering what you're up to."

"Oh, not much, just sitting down to watch our favourite soap opera," I tell him with a grin.

"Oh, man," he groans, but I'm just waiting for his next question. "So, what happened between Crystal and Jacob, did they get together? I've missed it this week." And there it is! See, I told you he loved it really.

"Hah, I knew it!" I exclaim suddenly.

"Knew what?" he sounds confused.

"I knew you secretly loved that show."

"No, I don't," he protests indignantly. There's a pause. "But you can't deny it's addictive."

"Oh, I know it's addictive; but you're the one who's spent years denying the fact that you like it." I retort.

"Okay, so I like it; I'm addicted to it; so sue me," he says in defeat. "But you know, your soap opera's not the only thing that's addictive," he adds suggestively.

"Oh, yeah?" My voice lowers at the change in his tone.

"Yeah," he states. "I am totally, completely addicted to you , Liz Evans."

I blush. I love it when he says things like that.

"So," he purrs through the phone. I shiver. "What are you wearing right now?"

I almost roll my eyes at the turn our conversation has made.

"Nuh uh," I shake my head at him, even though he can't see me. "None of that tonight, Mr. Evans. I'm already exhausted from trying to keep up with all those kids today."

"Aww, come on, Lizzie; I haven't seen you in four days! Please, take pity on a lonely, deprived man…" I can just hear his pout through the phone.

"Deprived? Come off it, Max, I think you got enough at the weekend to last you a lifetime!" Okay, well maybe we didn't do it that often last week. "Well, for at least a week anyway," I add. "And besides, you'll be home in a few hours; we can make up for it then."

"Okay, fine," he admits slightly huffily, adding, " Spoilsport ," under his breath. Well, at least I'm sure he thinks it's under his breath, but I can hear it just fine. "So, you and Emma are coming to pick me up from the airport in the morning?" he changes the subject.

"Of course. You get in at ten forty-five, right?" I hear the rustle of papers from his end. He's probably checking his ticket.

"Yep, Albuquerque Sunport at ten forty-five."

"Okay, we'll see you in the morning, then."

"Great," he says. "Look, I guess I'd better let you go now. Seeing as you're so exhausted and you still have an hour of glamorous, yet extremely bad acting to watch."

Normally, I would complain about this abrupt ending of the conversation, but I am tired and also eager to finish watching my soap before I go to bed.

"Well, okay. But, you'd better get some sleep now too, Mister. I don't want you too tired to celebrate your return with me tomorrow," I tell him slyly.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. Well, I'd better say goodnight then, my love."

I smile. "Goodnight, Max. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart. I'll be counting down the hours until – "

"Until we see each other again?" I cut in.

"Well, I was going to go with, 'until I'm buried inside your tight, wet heat again', but I guess we can go with yours instead."

I blush. "Max!"

He chuckles. He knows that I still get embarrassed when he talks dirty to me. Not that it doesn't turn me on, it's just I can't quite get comfortable with hearing him say it.

"Goodbye, darling ," he adds slyly, also knowing full well that I'm not keen on that particular pet name – it seems too old-fashioned to still be used today.

"Goodbye, sweet pea ." Well, two can play at this game. I can almost hear him cringe.

We both hang up the phone at the same time and as I put my end back down on the cradle, my hand lingers above it for a moment. I shake my head with a smile, before turning back to the TV.

And I'll bet that you don't know anybody that could be so bad
But if you did you'd be wondering where I'm at
I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

After I've finished watching the episode, I clear away the last of Emma's toys from the floor and head upstairs to bed. I check on her briefly before heading across the hall to the master bedroom. As I slip into bed, my mind drifts back to my conversation with Max and a grins spreads across my face at the thought of him returning to Albuquerque and our home in just a few hours.

Although I grew up in Roswell, I moved to Albuquerque for college, and that's where I met Max almost ten years ago; he was one of the RA's in my dorm when I was a freshman. We met at a 'meet and greet' during orientation and started dating soon after. When Max graduated, he was offered a job working for a local computing company and we moved into his apartment together. Max proposed during Spring Break my senior year and we got married the summer after I graduated. Although Max has changed jobs a few times since then, we've been living in Albuquerque ever since. He was offered his current managerial position when I was four months pregnant with Emma, and we were able to put a deposit down on a small house in the suburbs not long after that. Before I had Emma, I'd been working as a lab technician in the university's Biology department. I had to give it up after she was born, but I'm hoping to eventually go back into the field when the kids are at school.

That's right; kids. Now that Emma is that little bit older and doesn't require as much round-the-clock attention as she used to, Max and I have decided to try for another baby. It was actually his idea, but I definitely have no objections to it. In fact, I'd love to see a miniature version of Max running around the house. We both agree that we'd love a little boy to make the family complete, although if we honest, as long as it's healthy, the sex of the baby isn't that important. I'm not sure of Max's views on the subject, but I already have a couple of boy's names picked out. I like Matthew or Andrew, but I'll have to see if he has any ideas himself.

I turn over towards the middle of our queen-size bed and I sigh at the empty space next to me. It's always hard when Max goes away. Luckily, it's only a few times a year, but still, I always sleep better when he's beside me. A few of the moms I've met through Emma's playgroup tell me all these horror stories about their friends' husbands who've played away when on business trips, but I trust Max with my life, and I know that he'd never do that to me, to us. We made this pact when we first got married that we'd always be totally honest when it came to the opposite sex and Max has definitely not strayed from that promise. We've definitely had a few laughs about new receptionists at his work coming onto him, but he always makes it clear that he's a one-woman man. Being a current stay-at-home mom, I don't really have that trouble, although there was this time when a single father, who was dropping his son off at pre-school, thought I was a single mom since I wasn't wearing a wedding ring (one of the small stones came loose and it was in the jewellers to be fixed) and suggested we went back to his place for 'a good time' while the kids were playing at preschool! Needless to say, I made it perfectly clear what I thought of that idea, and we never saw him at playgroup again.

I drift off to sleep with thoughts of my perfect, wonderful husband on my mind and a smile on my face, just a few more hours until Emma and I will see him at the airport.

And I'll bet that you don't know anybody that could be so bad
But if you did you'd be wondering where I'm at
I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

I'm having the most wonderful dream; Max is here, in our bed and he's dropping feather-light kisses along my neck as his large, warm, slightly calloused hands cup my face and then drift down to trace my upper body over my silky pyjama top.

I can feel his hot breath tickle my ear as he whispers sweet nothings (and some quite not so sweet) to me. A lazy smile tugs at my lips as his mouth eventually finds mine and he brushes my lips with his own.

"Max…" I mumble; lost in the sensations he's causing in me. I lean towards his touch

"Wake up, my love." The words are spoken softly, but somehow they penetrate the sleepy haze around my brain and I still the slight movements I was unconsciously making.

"Mmm…" I force myself to open my eyes. And then I blink. Max is here. He's really here, in our bedroom. But…how? He's supposed to be at the airport in Philadelphia. How is he here, in New Mexico, in the early hours of the morning?

"Oh my God, Max!" I try to sit up, but the top half of his body is covering mine and I can only move a few inches. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here for…" I glance at the clock, "another three hours. How did you –?"

"Shh," he cuts me off with a finger to my lips. "I missed you so much, that I had to see you sooner than that. I managed to get on an earlier flight. I wanted to surprise you," he tells me lovingly.

"But… the car…how did you get – "

"I took a cab. It wasn't far," he grins. He looks so adorable that I can't stop the grin that slides across my face too.

"I'm so glad you're home," I tell him emotionally as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a passionate kiss. "I love you," I whisper against his lips, in between kisses. He grins again, this time against my lips, before he moves down towards my chest. It's only when he's pulled my pyjama top off and has attached his mouth to my right breast that I remember something.

"Emma!"

He lifts his head, looking around guiltily. "What? Where?"

"No, Max, she's not here," I say. "It's just that Emma…she was really excited about going to meet you at the airport. She even made a banner for you, but now you're here and she won't be able to hold it up when you get off the plane."

His happy expression fades. "Oh, Liz, I'm sorry, I didn't think. Man, she's going to be so disappointed."

I smile at him sympathetically.

"Wait, I know. How about you drive me to the airport in a couple of hours and then we can pretend that I'm getting off the plane at the right time, and Emma can hold up her banner for when I come round the corner?"

I smile. See how much this man loves his daughter? He'd do anything to make her happy.

"It's a great idea, Max, but you're forgetting one thing. I can't drive you to the airport without bringing Emma along too. We can't leave her at home on her own – she's only three!"

"Damn! I thought I had it then. So what do we do?"

"You know what? We'll think of something," I tell him, nuzzling my face against his neck. "But right now, you're here, in our bed; Emma won't be up for at least an hour; and I need you inside me."

His worried expression turns feral at my words and a split second later, he's devouring me like I'm his last meal. Clothes are thrown to the floor and bedcovers pulled back as we both take what we've been craving for all week: each other. We make love twice over the next hour; the first time, it's rough and passionate and eager, like we can't get enough of each other and the second time, it's loving and tender and spine tingling. The words 'I love you' and 'I need you' are uttered over and over, as we head towards that much anticipated release; before finally, with one last deep thrust, we come apart in each other's arms.

And that's all right,

'Cause I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

As we lie together, basking in the aftermath of our lovemaking, Max's hand slides over my stomach, rubbing it gently.

"Wouldn't it be great if we just made a baby?"

I let out a small giggle at the wistful tone in his voice.

"Yeah, it would. It'd be wonderful," I agree. I shift onto my side so that I'm facing him. "I love you," I whisper, placing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

"And I you," he returns lovingly.

We lie together, wrapped up in each other's arms for several minutes, until glance at the time and realise that Emma will be up soon.

"Hey, it won't be long before Emma wakes up. We should get dressed," I murmur, my fingers stroking the dark hairs on Max's forearm.

"Okay." He presses a kiss to the top of my head and we slowly get out of bed.

"What are we going to do about her and the banner?" Max asks as he pulls on his clothes from earlier.

"Well…" I think. "How about if I take her down to the living room, ask her to hold up the banner and tell her that I've got a surprise for her. You could go wait in the car or something and then come in through the front door as if you've just arrived back. That way, she can still give you the banner, but we don't have to go all the way to the airport. What do you think?"

"I think you're a genius, Mrs. Evans," he tells me admiringly

"I know," I reply smugly. "So, I'll get her all ready with the banner for eleven o'clock and then you can come in, with your bags and things."

"Better yet, why don't I go out and pick up some of her favourite food while you're getting her ready? Then she can have Daddy and Jell-O!"

"That's a great idea, sweetie. Just don't buy the strawberry ones. You know how hyper she gets with those."

"I won't," he grins, tucking his shirt into his pants. "Right, I'd better be off," he tells me and picks up his bags. We share one last sweet kiss, before he sneaks downstairs out of the house and I go to Emma's room to get her ready for the day.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Max arrives back home to a wonderful surprise – his wife and daughter standing in the living room, waiting for him with a huge hand painted 'Welcome Home, Daddy' banner and some balloons.

The second Emma sees him; she lets go of the banner, leaving me to hold it up and flings herself into his arms. I hold back a choked sob of happiness at the sight of the two of them together. My hand unconsciously moves to my stomach, where I know there will be a brand new life growing in the near future. Max's gaze catches mine and he grins happily, beckoning me over to join them. As I reach him, his free arm wraps around my shoulders and we stand together in the middle of the living room like one big (hopefully soon-to-be bigger) happy family.

And that's all right,

'Cause I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

The End

Title: Tomorrow Morning

Author: Heavenli24

Pairings/Couples/Category: M/L

Rating: TEEN

Disclaimer: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, WB, and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement is intended.

Summary: This is just a totally fluffy one-part; sort of a day in the life of the Mr and Mrs Max Evans. Max is away on a business trip and Liz is at home, waiting for his call, a call that was promised on the first night he was away. It's been three days, and still she's heard nothing. Why hasn't he called?

Author's Note: This is a song fic based on 'Tomorrow Morning' by Jack Johnson (hence the title) and is just a little piece of fluff that I just couldn't get out of my head. It probably contains a ton of romantic clichés, but I just had to write it!

Well that's all right, if that's all right,

Two thousand miles but still that's all right

Oh, Max . I sigh as I gently stroke the soft, dark hair of my sleeping daughter. Our sleeping daughter. I miss you .

Okay, so my head knows that he'll be back tomorrow morning, but my heart is just missing him like crazy. He's two thousand miles away, and has been for three days. Three days without seeing my husband. Without even talking to my husband. He told me he'd call as soon as he arrived in Philadelphia, but so far, there's been no word from him. I hope he hasn't run into trouble or anything; they've been having bad storms on the East coast lately. His cell phone finally conked out last week (he'd had it for years – I'm surprised it lasted as long as it did) and he hasn't gotten around to buying a new one yet. But he did say he'd call me from the hotel. I would have called him myself, but I kind of lost the scrap of paper that I hurriedly wrote the hotel name and number on before he left on Sunday night. We'd already put Emma to bed and were so busy making the most of our time alone before his best friend Michael arrived to drive him to the airport, that I didn't pay much attention to the details of his trip.

And that's all right, if that's all right,
I'll see you in the morning if that's all right

As I watch Emma, so peaceful in slumber, a smile creeps over my face. She's just beautiful, a perfect combination of Max and myself. She turns four next week and Max has promised to bring her back something special from Philadelphia. He works for an engineering company and is out there on business this week. He's not an engineer himself, but deals more with the management and business side of things. It's not unusual for him to have business meetings out of town, but he's never been this far away before. Two thousand miles; it feels like a world away, especially with no communication between us so far.

Emma stirs slightly beneath my hand and I realise that I've been sitting beside her bed for almost half an hour. I place a tender kiss to her forehead and silently stand up. With one last look at my sleeping angel, I leave her room and pull the door to. The smile remains on my face as I walk downstairs and to the living room. Our little baby is getting so big now. She's recently migrated to a 'big girl's bed' and got so excited when Max and I led her upstairs one evening and showed her the new big bed in her room. She's such a wonderful child and I love her to bits. In fact, I announce that fact to Max so often that he's getting a complex about being second best in my life. Of course, that couldn't be further from the truth. My daughter may be the most precious thing in my life, but Max…he's my whole world. I love him so much, there aren't even words to describe it. There is no way I could live without him and I do my best to make sure he knows that; and you know what the most amazing part is? Even after almost ten years together, six of them married, he can still set my body alight with just one look. But what makes my life that much better is knowing that he loves our daughter as much as I do, maybe even more; and that in turn makes my love for him burn that much brighter.

I sink down into the large, soft cushions of the couch, part of a cosy three-piece suite in dark blue that we both fell in love with at first glance, and curl my feet under me so that I can lean against the armrest. I let out a sigh of complete contentment as I sink into the sofa and feel my tired muscles relax. It's been a busy few days, especially without Max around to help out. Each morning I drop Emma off at her playgroup for a couple of hours while I run some errands and get the grocery shopping done, then I pick her up at twelve and we go home to fix some lunch, after which Emma takes her nap. In the afternoon, I'll get the chores and housework done and get started on cooking dinner, all of which Emma finds great pleasure in 'helping' me with – you try doing chores with a three-year-old and see how long it takes you! But, I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's fascinating watching her discover new things and I love teaching her about them. This afternoon however, I arranged to have a few of Emma's preschool friends round to play, without considering the fact that since Max wasn't home yet, I'd have to do everything in the evening as well. Usually, he'll help me with the dishes and then get Emma ready for bed, thereby giving me some time to relax. But no such luck today!

Once I'm settled on the couch, I reach for the TV remote and rewind the tape in the VCR so I can catch up with the daytime soap that I record at lunchtime. I don't have time to sit down and watch it during the day, so that's what the evening is for. Despite the fact that he claims soap operas are complete nonsense and a waste of good television potential, somehow Max always seems to find his way to the living room after Emma's in bed and then he sits with me and watches it too.

I let out a relieved breath as the tape reaches the beginning of today's episode and I press play on the VCR remote, but just as the programme starts, the phone rings. I roll my eyes and pause the tape. It's probably the mother of one of Emma's friends, wishing to thank me for entertaining her child this afternoon and wanting to arrange another play date.

"Hello?" I pick up the phone and speak into the receiver.

"Honey, I'm so sorry – " He sounds almost breathless, as if he's been running, but I'm so pleased to hear his voice that I cut him off mid-sentence.

"Max, is that really you? You were supposed to call me days ago," I scold, although I'm not mad, just relieved that I'm finally able to talk to him.

"I know, sweetie and I'm sorry. I've been trying to call since Monday, but they've been having trouble with the phones here." Well, he certainly sounds apologetic, and a little distant, which only adds credit to his phone trouble statement, so I guess I'll have to let this one slide.

What would you do if I wrote you a song
Would you give me some loving when I get home
Or would you be mad at me if I had a hard time
Getting a hold of you, I try all the time

"Why, what happened?" I ask in concern.

"You know we've had storms here the past few days? Well, one of them knocked down practically a whole network of phone lines so I couldn't call you from the hotel," he explains. "And before you ask, the hotel's still on a dial up Internet service, so I couldn't e-mail either."

"Okay…" I'll accept that. For now. But I'm sure there must have been somewhere in the city that had a connection he could have used.

"But the minute I heard they'd fixed the connection, I ran straight up here to call you," he continues. So, that explains the breathlessness in his voice. "I've missed you. So much."

I smile. "I've missed you too. But God, your daughter's a handful when there's only one of us here!"

"So now she's my daughter, huh?" he laughs.

"That's right!" I chuckle. "No, really, she's been great this week. Missing her daddy though."

"And I'm missing her too."

"But I made the stupid mistake of agreeing to look after six three- and four-year-olds this afternoon. Hence the tiredness." I tell him.

"Now, that was silly, wasn't it? Honestly, Liz, I don't know what goes on in your head half the time," he tuts.

"But, you love me anyway, right?"

"'Course I do. Besides, I have to, you're my wife," he jokes.

"Max, really! I don't know why I put up with you sometimes!" I roll my eyes.

It might not seem like it, but I love this teasing nature of our relationship. I suppose you could say it's like verbal foreplay. The sound of his soft throaty laughter and over the phone just gets me all hot and bothered. In fact, maybe it's a good thing he hasn't been able to call. At least that way, I haven't been left worked up and frustrated all week!

"Because you love me too," comes his cheeky reply.

"I really, really do," I admit. "Oh, Max. Why can't you just be here with me right now, and not on the other side of the country?"

He chuckles again. "As much as I would love that, hun, my plane doesn't leave for another twelve hours."

"Fine. But, you just make sure you keep your mind on the fact that your gorgeous wife is at home all alone, thinking about you, while you're out on the town tonight, gallivanting about with your colleagues."

And I'll bet that you don't know anybody that could be so bad
But if you did you'd be wondering where I'm at
Well, I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

I know that he's not like some of his work friends, who certainly like to make the most of being in an unfamiliar city, halfway across the country from their wives and girlfriends, but I can't resist teasing him about it. It's that foreplay thing again.

"Liz! You know that I'm not – "

"I know, Max, you're not like that. I also know that since it's gone eleven pm there, you're most likely turning in for the night now anyway."

"Damn, you know me too well!"

"Yep, that I do," I grin.

"So, what are…up to…?" he asks, but for some reason, he keeps fading out and I can hear a hissing noise. It must be a bad connection on his end, what with the stormy weather and all.

"Sorry, Max. You're breaking up, I can't hear you too well."

"Hang on…" he says, and then I hear shuffling around as if he's trying to find better reception. I'm tempted to mention that since he's on a landline, it probably won't help, but I don't.

What would you do if I sang you this song
The connection is bad but that's only the phone
'Cause when my words kiss your ear, I'll be right there
The message is long because baby, this is your song

"Okay, how's this?" his voice returns a few moments later. He sounds clearer now.

"Good, I can hear you now."

"Great, so, I was just wondering what you're up to."

"Oh, not much, just sitting down to watch our favourite soap opera," I tell him with a grin.

"Oh, man," he groans, but I'm just waiting for his next question. "So, what happened between Crystal and Jacob, did they get together? I've missed it this week." And there it is! See, I told you he loved it really.

"Hah, I knew it!" I exclaim suddenly.

"Knew what?" he sounds confused.

"I knew you secretly loved that show."

"No, I don't," he protests indignantly. There's a pause. "But you can't deny it's addictive."

"Oh, I know it's addictive; but you're the one who's spent years denying the fact that you like it." I retort.

"Okay, so I like it; I'm addicted to it; so sue me," he says in defeat. "But you know, your soap opera's not the only thing that's addictive," he adds suggestively.

"Oh, yeah?" My voice lowers at the change in his tone.

"Yeah," he states. "I am totally, completely addicted to you , Liz Evans."

I blush. I love it when he says things like that.

"So," he purrs through the phone. I shiver. "What are you wearing right now?"

I almost roll my eyes at the turn our conversation has made.

"Nuh uh," I shake my head at him, even though he can't see me. "None of that tonight, Mr. Evans. I'm already exhausted from trying to keep up with all those kids today."

"Aww, come on, Lizzie; I haven't seen you in four days! Please, take pity on a lonely, deprived man…" I can just hear his pout through the phone.

"Deprived? Come off it, Max, I think you got enough at the weekend to last you a lifetime!" Okay, well maybe we didn't do it that often last week. "Well, for at least a week anyway," I add. "And besides, you'll be home in a few hours; we can make up for it then."

"Okay, fine," he admits slightly huffily, adding, " Spoilsport ," under his breath. Well, at least I'm sure he thinks it's under his breath, but I can hear it just fine. "So, you and Emma are coming to pick me up from the airport in the morning?" he changes the subject.

"Of course. You get in at ten forty-five, right?" I hear the rustle of papers from his end. He's probably checking his ticket.

"Yep, Albuquerque Sunport at ten forty-five."

"Okay, we'll see you in the morning, then."

"Great," he says. "Look, I guess I'd better let you go now. Seeing as you're so exhausted and you still have an hour of glamorous, yet extremely bad acting to watch."

Normally, I would complain about this abrupt ending of the conversation, but I am tired and also eager to finish watching my soap before I go to bed.

"Well, okay. But, you'd better get some sleep now too, Mister. I don't want you too tired to celebrate your return with me tomorrow," I tell him slyly.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. Well, I'd better say goodnight then, my love."

I smile. "Goodnight, Max. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart. I'll be counting down the hours until – "

"Until we see each other again?" I cut in.

"Well, I was going to go with, 'until I'm buried inside your tight, wet heat again', but I guess we can go with yours instead."

I blush. "Max!"

He chuckles. He knows that I still get embarrassed when he talks dirty to me. Not that it doesn't turn me on, it's just I can't quite get comfortable with hearing him say it.

"Goodbye, darling ," he adds slyly, also knowing full well that I'm not keen on that particular pet name – it seems too old-fashioned to still be used today.

"Goodbye, sweet pea ." Well, two can play at this game. I can almost hear him cringe.

We both hang up the phone at the same time and as I put my end back down on the cradle, my hand lingers above it for a moment. I shake my head with a smile, before turning back to the TV.

And I'll bet that you don't know anybody that could be so bad
But if you did you'd be wondering where I'm at
I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

After I've finished watching the episode, I clear away the last of Emma's toys from the floor and head upstairs to bed. I check on her briefly before heading across the hall to the master bedroom. As I slip into bed, my mind drifts back to my conversation with Max and a grins spreads across my face at the thought of him returning to Albuquerque and our home in just a few hours.

Although I grew up in Roswell, I moved to Albuquerque for college, and that's where I met Max almost ten years ago; he was one of the RA's in my dorm when I was a freshman. We met at a 'meet and greet' during orientation and started dating soon after. When Max graduated, he was offered a job working for a local computing company and we moved into his apartment together. Max proposed during Spring Break my senior year and we got married the summer after I graduated. Although Max has changed jobs a few times since then, we've been living in Albuquerque ever since. He was offered his current managerial position when I was four months pregnant with Emma, and we were able to put a deposit down on a small house in the suburbs not long after that. Before I had Emma, I'd been working as a lab technician in the university's Biology department. I had to give it up after she was born, but I'm hoping to eventually go back into the field when the kids are at school.

That's right; kids. Now that Emma is that little bit older and doesn't require as much round-the-clock attention as she used to, Max and I have decided to try for another baby. It was actually his idea, but I definitely have no objections to it. In fact, I'd love to see a miniature version of Max running around the house. We both agree that we'd love a little boy to make the family complete, although if we honest, as long as it's healthy, the sex of the baby isn't that important. I'm not sure of Max's views on the subject, but I already have a couple of boy's names picked out. I like Matthew or Andrew, but I'll have to see if he has any ideas himself.

I turn over towards the middle of our queen-size bed and I sigh at the empty space next to me. It's always hard when Max goes away. Luckily, it's only a few times a year, but still, I always sleep better when he's beside me. A few of the moms I've met through Emma's playgroup tell me all these horror stories about their friends' husbands who've played away when on business trips, but I trust Max with my life, and I know that he'd never do that to me, to us. We made this pact when we first got married that we'd always be totally honest when it came to the opposite sex and Max has definitely not strayed from that promise. We've definitely had a few laughs about new receptionists at his work coming onto him, but he always makes it clear that he's a one-woman man. Being a current stay-at-home mom, I don't really have that trouble, although there was this time when a single father, who was dropping his son off at pre-school, thought I was a single mom since I wasn't wearing a wedding ring (one of the small stones came loose and it was in the jewellers to be fixed) and suggested we went back to his place for 'a good time' while the kids were playing at preschool! Needless to say, I made it perfectly clear what I thought of that idea, and we never saw him at playgroup again.

I drift off to sleep with thoughts of my perfect, wonderful husband on my mind and a smile on my face, just a few more hours until Emma and I will see him at the airport.

And I'll bet that you don't know anybody that could be so bad
But if you did you'd be wondering where I'm at
I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

I'm having the most wonderful dream; Max is here, in our bed and he's dropping feather-light kisses along my neck as his large, warm, slightly calloused hands cup my face and then drift down to trace my upper body over my silky pyjama top.

I can feel his hot breath tickle my ear as he whispers sweet nothings (and some quite not so sweet) to me. A lazy smile tugs at my lips as his mouth eventually finds mine and he brushes my lips with his own.

"Max…" I mumble; lost in the sensations he's causing in me. I lean towards his touch

"Wake up, my love." The words are spoken softly, but somehow they penetrate the sleepy haze around my brain and I still the slight movements I was unconsciously making.

"Mmm…" I force myself to open my eyes. And then I blink. Max is here. He's really here, in our bedroom. But…how? He's supposed to be at the airport in Philadelphia. How is he here, in New Mexico, in the early hours of the morning?

"Oh my God, Max!" I try to sit up, but the top half of his body is covering mine and I can only move a few inches. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here for…" I glance at the clock, "another three hours. How did you –?"

"Shh," he cuts me off with a finger to my lips. "I missed you so much, that I had to see you sooner than that. I managed to get on an earlier flight. I wanted to surprise you," he tells me lovingly.

"But… the car…how did you get – "

"I took a cab. It wasn't far," he grins. He looks so adorable that I can't stop the grin that slides across my face too.

"I'm so glad you're home," I tell him emotionally as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a passionate kiss. "I love you," I whisper against his lips, in between kisses. He grins again, this time against my lips, before he moves down towards my chest. It's only when he's pulled my pyjama top off and has attached his mouth to my right breast that I remember something.

"Emma!"

He lifts his head, looking around guiltily. "What? Where?"

"No, Max, she's not here," I say. "It's just that Emma…she was really excited about going to meet you at the airport. She even made a banner for you, but now you're here and she won't be able to hold it up when you get off the plane."

His happy expression fades. "Oh, Liz, I'm sorry, I didn't think. Man, she's going to be so disappointed."

I smile at him sympathetically.

"Wait, I know. How about you drive me to the airport in a couple of hours and then we can pretend that I'm getting off the plane at the right time, and Emma can hold up her banner for when I come round the corner?"

I smile. See how much this man loves his daughter? He'd do anything to make her happy.

"It's a great idea, Max, but you're forgetting one thing. I can't drive you to the airport without bringing Emma along too. We can't leave her at home on her own – she's only three!"

"Damn! I thought I had it then. So what do we do?"

"You know what? We'll think of something," I tell him, nuzzling my face against his neck. "But right now, you're here, in our bed; Emma won't be up for at least an hour; and I need you inside me."

His worried expression turns feral at my words and a split second later, he's devouring me like I'm his last meal. Clothes are thrown to the floor and bedcovers pulled back as we both take what we've been craving for all week: each other. We make love twice over the next hour; the first time, it's rough and passionate and eager, like we can't get enough of each other and the second time, it's loving and tender and spine tingling. The words 'I love you' and 'I need you' are uttered over and over, as we head towards that much anticipated release; before finally, with one last deep thrust, we come apart in each other's arms.

And that's all right,

'Cause I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

As we lie together, basking in the aftermath of our lovemaking, Max's hand slides over my stomach, rubbing it gently.

"Wouldn't it be great if we just made a baby?"

I let out a small giggle at the wistful tone in his voice.

"Yeah, it would. It'd be wonderful," I agree. I shift onto my side so that I'm facing him. "I love you," I whisper, placing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

"And I you," he returns lovingly.

We lie together, wrapped up in each other's arms for several minutes, until glance at the time and realise that Emma will be up soon.

"Hey, it won't be long before Emma wakes up. We should get dressed," I murmur, my fingers stroking the dark hairs on Max's forearm.

"Okay." He presses a kiss to the top of my head and we slowly get out of bed.

"What are we going to do about her and the banner?" Max asks as he pulls on his clothes from earlier.

"Well…" I think. "How about if I take her down to the living room, ask her to hold up the banner and tell her that I've got a surprise for her. You could go wait in the car or something and then come in through the front door as if you've just arrived back. That way, she can still give you the banner, but we don't have to go all the way to the airport. What do you think?"

"I think you're a genius, Mrs. Evans," he tells me admiringly

"I know," I reply smugly. "So, I'll get her all ready with the banner for eleven o'clock and then you can come in, with your bags and things."

"Better yet, why don't I go out and pick up some of her favourite food while you're getting her ready? Then she can have Daddy and Jell-O!"

"That's a great idea, sweetie. Just don't buy the strawberry ones. You know how hyper she gets with those."

"I won't," he grins, tucking his shirt into his pants. "Right, I'd better be off," he tells me and picks up his bags. We share one last sweet kiss, before he sneaks downstairs out of the house and I go to Emma's room to get her ready for the day.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Max arrives back home to a wonderful surprise – his wife and daughter standing in the living room, waiting for him with a huge hand painted 'Welcome Home, Daddy' banner and some balloons.

The second Emma sees him; she lets go of the banner, leaving me to hold it up and flings herself into his arms. I hold back a choked sob of happiness at the sight of the two of them together. My hand unconsciously moves to my stomach, where I know there will be a brand new life growing in the near future. Max's gaze catches mine and he grins happily, beckoning me over to join them. As I reach him, his free arm wraps around my shoulders and we stand together in the middle of the living room like one big (hopefully soon-to-be bigger) happy family.

And that's all right,

'Cause I'll be home when tomorrow morning comes

The End