Amy stood and knocked at the door of Maria’s studio. The lack of an answer to her knocks in almost four months was starting to worry her. At first Maria would show up for dinner or lunch dates, but over the last few months she wasn’t even answering her phone. It was three weeks before her showing in LA, and Amy had yet to see any of the pieces to be shown, or even start the necessary transporting and framing.

Taking out her phone, she hit the autodial for Maria’s cell phone. After a pause she heard ringing coming from inside. Giving up, Amy searched her bag for her key to the studio. It was somewhere. In over three years of having it, she had never used it. Small wonder that it was found at the very bottom of her purse.

“Oh god!” Amy turned in a circle. “Oh god! Maria? Maria!” Rushing upstairs, Amy went to find her daughter’s dead body. The place was robbed. Ransacked. Destroyed.

Maria’s body was on the bed, sprawled out in a pose of abandon. Her baby! Her baby was…snoring.

“Dammit! Maria, wake up.” It took two tries to pull Maria from her unconscious state. Exhaustion was in every line of her body.

“Mom?” Maria sat up. She was a wreck, clothed in nothing but a Metallica t-shirt covered in plaster and paint; her bare arms and legs were also covered in plaster and paint. Her hair was limp and lifeless, oily and unwashed.

“I thought the damn place was robbed.”

“What? No. I was meaning to clean up.”

Amy looked around the place. “Clean up? How about just start a fire and play a damn flute! This place is a disaster.”

“I was busy.” Maria got off the bed and stretched. Going into the bathroom she splashed water on her head, making a nasty face at herself in the mirror and then put a toothbrush in her mouth to disinfect and remove whatever had died in there. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Strangely enough, I literally haven't heard from you in months, and no matter how many messages I leave for you, there is never an answer.”

Maria looked chagrined at her silence. “Sorry. I know you worry.”

“Oh really? You think?”

Maria kissed her mom on the cheek, and headed back to bed.

“No! Uh uh, missy. Bath. You, soap and water, or I’m getting the fire hose from the hallway.” Maria started to protest, but Amy stopped her. “No arguments. I mean it Maria, you really stink.”

“Okay. But don’t touch anything.”

Maria went back inside the bath and pulled off her t-shirt, and Amy was shocked how incredibly small she looked. Maria was thin normally, but now she looked like a starvation victim. Actually starvation victims had more meat.

Amy rushed downstairs to make something for food. Anything. Sean had stayed for a week over three months ago, and Maria seemed to be adjusting then. But after he left, this period of silence started. Maria had simply missed summer, and fall was already upon them.

The kitchen was a cluttered mess of used plates and dishes, take-out containers and pizza boxes. At least she was eating. Maybe not much and not well, but she had been eating. Amy started the rinsing the residue off the dishes, and tried to avoid touching anything too strange. Calling a local restaurant, she ordered food. Lots of it. And then she ordered groceries.

Unopened mail, tons of it, lay on the countertop of the kitchen. While the water ran and she started to load the less vile dishes in the dishwasher, she starting sorting it. Piling up Maria's unopened bills, Amy put them in her bag to take with her and drop off at the accountant's.

Letters. From Roswell. Amy looked at the return address. Evans. Isabel Evans. Not Michael Guerin . Amy left them in a pile so Maria could open them later, and disposed of sales fliers and stacked up magazines. Sorting business mail from personal, Amy’s eyes kept going back to the letters from Roswell.

“Maria, you've got letters from Roswell.” Maria stopped on the stairs. She had been toweling her hair which already looked closer to her natural color. Amy quickly informed her before she could ask, “From an Isabel Evans.”

It was hard not to miss the disappointment crossing her daughter's face, and then the blankness. “I don’t know an Isabel Evans.”

“I think she's Max Evans’ sister, his and…Michael’s.”

“Oh. The twin. Right. I forgot. I guess I met her briefly that night. But we were never introduced.” Maria frowned. “Why is she writing me?”

“I don’t know? Want to try reading one or two of them?”

“You do it,” said Maria finishing her hair and searching the kitchen for a clean glass and some juice . “Did you order food?”

“Yeah, it’ll be here soon.” Amy picked up the letters sorted them by postdates, then she opened the first one.

Dear Ms. DeLuca,

Thank you,

Isabel Evans

Amy read that letter and a few more. Isabel kept sending them when she never received an answer from Maria. Watching Maria going back upstairs to dress, Amy took out her phone and called Isabel Evans. The woman’s letters were becoming more frantic. “Hello?”

“Hello, Isabel? This is Amy DeLuca, Maria’s mother.” There was silence at the other end so Amy forged on, “I finally just opened your letters to Maria. I’m sorry that there was no response. Maria has been working nonstop and even her personal mail has been neglected.”

Isabel cleared her throat. “Is she okay?”

“Maria? She is…” Amy looked around the studio. Her eyes for the first time found the art. The studio was packed with finished paintings. And the most impressive sculpture pieces Amy had ever seen. No wonder Maria wasn’t functioning normally. She was possessed. She was possessed by Michael Guerin .

He was everywhere. Paintings, sculptures, charcoal drawings and etchings. His face. His hands. His body. A large painting of his eyes. Abstracts that still looked like him or felt like him. Everywhere. The most impressive was a full plaster sculpture of a man stretched out in bed, his one arm reaching above his head. He was nude.

“Oh, god!”

“Ms. DeLuca? Ms. DeLuca? Are you all right?” Isabel’s voice came from the distance of the phone that Amy had let dangle at her side.

“What? Oh yes. I’m sorry. What was your question?” Amy asked distractedly. Circling the art, she couldn’t take her eyes off a trio of pieces depicting hands. One piece was two hands held up in a fist. Rage. Another was a hand held out as if warding off or propelling something. It felt like energy barely contained. Power. The third in the series was gentle, and had a quietness to the hands. Love. Amy touched them. She couldn’t help herself.

“I asked if Maria was okay,” said Isabel’s voice once again.

“She’s…” Amy stood in the middle of the art. “No. No she’s not okay.”

Isabel sighed in defeat. “Does she know where Michael is?” Amy shook her head, but realizing Isabel could possibly see that she finally answered. “No. She hasn’t spoken to him or seen him since she walked out of his house that day. I can tell you that she misses him, and thinks of him constantly. I really do mean constantly. She's quite devastated.”

“Damn. I’d hoped that he came to find her.” Isabel was silent on the other end. “I need him to find her. He needs her.”

Amy just nodded. Obviously Maria needed him too. He inspired her. She was obsessed with him. “Isabel. I can’t help you. I wish I could. There is something though. I’ll send you a special invitation to Maria’s art show in LA in a few weeks, and if you see Michael, please give it to him. There is something there he needs to see.” “I’ll do the best I can. If you should see Michael…”

“I’ll call immediately.” Amy quickly collected Isabel's address and then went to answer the door when the groceries arrived. Not even bothering to unpack the food, she tossed her phone on the somewhat cleaner countertop and went back to the art.

The paintings drew her eyes. They almost breathed. Some felt almost as painful as breathing in cutting cold air in the dead of winter. Amy stood looking at them, then slowly, moved through a stack of finished ones. Some were stylized, but some almost bore the crisp clarity of a photograph. There was more nightmare works, including one of Michael bleeding to death.

But the sculpture of the sleeping man.... It was…

“Don’t touch it!” Maria’s voice came from the stairs.

Amy faltered. She had run her hand down the arms and along the shoulders. The smoothness was almost silky with textured roughness. Skin. She captured the feel of skin. Alabaster. Frozen in a moment. She could feel the emotion infused in the work. Awe. Raw male beauty trapped frozen, aloof and reserved.

“Mom!”

Amy became aware that her hands were still wandering over the form, heading for…

“Sorry.” Amy quickly took her hands off the form. “That seems a little out of proportion,” Amy said, looking down at the obvious endowment.

Maria frowned. Coming to stand next to her mother, her head tilted and then straightened. Reaching out a hand, she opened it in a spanning measurement, and shook her head. “Nope, that’s about right.”

Amy’s eyebrow went up, one arm circled her waist, and holding her elbow with one hand, her hand rubbed across her mouth. “Oh, Lordy.” Clearing her throat, she looked at her daughter, and they both burst out laughing.

“Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

Amy looked back at the sculptor. “Not me. Now I’m just horny.”

Maria sputtered in laughter. “Help! Hey, Mom, remember not to traumatize the child.”

“Right.” Amy said distractedly. “Wonder if Jim can get away for a long weekend.”

“If you tell me details, I’ll spend the next ten years on Roger’s couch. So don’t.”

~~~

Michael stopped inside the door. Closing it, he leaned against it and looked at the darkened rooms. Empty. Cold. It felt like a place never lived in. His home.

Reaching out, he reluctantly hit the light switch next to the door. He knew what was waiting for him. The painting on the easel. All those months of avoiding it, running away from what it represented, only to find himself in the same place at the end.

Moving up the stairs, he dropped his bags and went to shower. When he searched through his drawers for clothing he ran into her things. Things left behind. She had walked out the door. Not even a look back. Not even a moment of hesitation. She gave him what he thought he needed. She promised not to drive him to his knees, so why had he been living on them since she left?

Giving up, he went to bed not bothering with clothes. All that time he hoped it wouldn’t end, but he knew it would. He had her long enough to taste what he could never have. It was enough to leave him wanting for a lifetime. Watching the stars in the skylight, for the first time he wasn’t thinking about his past world, his warped childhood, or even losing Max and Isabel. Only Maria.

It took two cups of the worst sludge of coffee to even get him moving the next morning. It wasn’t jet lag. It was Maria. She haunted him, making it impossible to sleep, when behind his eyelids all he saw was her. No amount of running or the sights and cultures of different countries changed that. Damn her.

Michael hit his answering machine. You have thirty-six messages….

Michael cussed and listened to the messages. Most were from Isabel. She knew he was gone, but still she left messages. Most of them were from the last few weeks. She probably started to worry that he wouldn’t come back. Michael deleted them one at a time. He took time to listen to the important ones. Friday, 3:48pm…Michael, this is Sam. I received the last two articles. They look great. Your accountant should be receiving your fee soon. Let me know if there is any problem……Um, I got the other thing. I read it………Jesus, Michael. I’ve got it in a bidding war. It’s not going to be a matter of whether it will be published as much as who's going to get the honor of doing it. I’ll let you know.

That was over two months ago…Michael continued to listen. Wednesday, 9:16am…..Michael, I sold it. A very nice price with options.. They sent the galleys to the editor. I told them your instructions that nothing was to be changed outside of basic corrections. I reread the first bindery. It looks good. Real good. I think you should be proud. Anyway, they're sending you a pre-print version. It should be in your mail. Tell me there’ll be more from where this came from…Okay, give me a call if you need anything. I’ve got a few more assignments if you’re interested……Call me.

Isabel……over the last few days. Her voice was hollow and Michael frowned at her the tone it was taking. Monday, 12:15pm….Michael, where are you? I’m starting to worry……I miss you..

Michael swore under his breath and prayed for saints to deliver him from his meddling sister. Thursday, 2:45pm….It’s Isabel. Still not there? Anyway, I heard from Amy DeLuca. Seems Maria was too busy working to bother answering my letters. Amy said she’s not doing very well. Another thing the two of you have in common. Wedding is in a few days. You promised to be there. Max is counting on you to be his best man. I hope you find your way home………I love……well, bye.”

Michael finished and deleted all the messages. The wedding was in two days. He had promised and he always kept his promises. They should have known that.

Maria? She wasn’t doing okay. What did that mean exactly?

Michael picked up his phone and called the number. “This is Isabel. I’m unable to come to the phone right now. Leave a message and I’ll get back with you later.”

“Iz, I’m home so you can stop worrying and stop calling.” Michael hung up the phone. One chore done. Looking at his watch he gave himself about an hour before Isabel was on his doorstep.

She made it in under forty minutes.

“Michael?”

Michael came down the stairs and ignored Isabel’s gasp. So his beard was a little unkempt and his hair too long.

“You look tired. Where have you been?”

“Around. Look, Iz, can we do this some other time? I’m tired and just want to…”

“I’ve got something for you.” Isabel handed her brother the invitation to Maria DeLuca’s art showing in LA.

“Where did you get this?”

“Amy DeLuca sent it to me. She asked me to give it to you if I saw you and to tell you that there was something there you needed to see.”

“Iz…”

“Well, I need to go. I’ve got a date. You should call Max and Liz. They’ve been worried about you, and Liz is feeling tired now that the baby is getting close. Max will be happy to know you’re going to be at their wedding.”

“I was already at their wedding.” Michael said simply.

“I know, but this one is for friends and family, and Liz deserves a large dream wedding.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Michael watched his sister leave, surprised that she didn’t stay longer. He expected more from her, at least more of a mention of Maria.

Maria. Michael sat down staring at the invitation.

~~~

“The wedding pictures.”

“What?” Michael turned, confused. It was like the damn cummerbund wasn’t hard enough, but enigmatical Max was just like having his head drilled.

“That’s what you promised my parents.” Michael remained silent. What about wedding pictures? “You promised to not rush away after the wedding and stay for the family wedding photos.”

Michael swore. He promised that? When? Dammit!

“Um, I really can’t stay, Maxwell. As soon as the wedding is over, I’ve got a plane to catch.”

“Where to this time?” Max asked not appearing to be interested, but like Isabel he was hoping that wherever it was, there would be a Maria DeLuca present.

“Sahara Desert,” answered Michael flippantly. It didn’t frickin’ matter as long as he got away.

Max sighed. Some things were so hard. Sooner or later it became necessary to bite the bullet and just do what needed to be done. “Stay.”

Michael looked at Max and then away.

“Michael. Stay. This is home. Isabel and I are here. You’re going to be an uncle, and I need you. I want you near. Isabel needs you, and dammit, maybe you need us too!”

“Maxwell,…”

“God, I just want you to let it go, and go find Maria. You could be happy...here...with Maria and making a family. Isabel is terrorized that you’ll leave and never return.”

“I can’t be here.”

“Michael, home isn’t supposed to hurt. Figure out why yours does and fix it.”

Michael didn’t want to talk about it, and the change in the chapel music told him he didn’t need to. It was time.

“C’mon, Max. Stop worrying about my life, and start worrying about your own. Your very pregnant wife is going to walk down the aisle in a few moments, and for once, why don’t you let this day be all about her and not about me?”

Michael practically slept through the service, his face still itching from shaving his beard off. He barely noticed Liz walking down the aisle. His mind kept wandering. It took the reception to wake him up. The Best Man’s speech. He had forgotten about that. The Evans’ were beaming, and even Liz’s mother was present. Everyone was waiting, and for once Michael wished he had no words, that words weren't his life. He was going to mess it up.

Clearing his throat, Michael forced himself to finish what he had to do. The last official duty as Best Man. Raising his glass he cleared his throat again.

“To Max and Liz, a celebration of life and love. As children we never thought there could ever be a place for us to belong. Separated and apart, we lived our lives that way. Isolation became our disease. For my brother, Liz was his salvation, his hope for a life that was normal. For many, there is nothing more mundane than normal, but for us? Normal is all we want. So a special toast for Max, my brother who found his way home, and for Liz, his wife who is the beacon that has illuminated his path. Max and Liz.”

“Max and Liz,” said the rest of the wedding party. Michael quickly drank his drink and hugged his brother. Trying to find his way out, he found his escape cut off by Philip and Diane Evans.

“That was a lovely toast, Michael.” Philip said.

“It was nothing.” Michael desperately looked around for Max to save him. Frickin’ Max Evans’ father just said the word ‘lovely’ to him. How was a man supposed to react to that?

“We wanted to thank you for being such a good sport with the wedding pictures and all.” Diane said nervously. Approaching Michael was always a problem. “It made Isabel happy as well, not just Max and Liz.”

“Yeah, well my aim in life is to bring happiness to all.”

“You were gone a long time, for months. I know Isabel was very upset,” said Diane. Philip frowned. This wasn’t going well. Michael looked like a trapped wild animal ready to bite off his own foot to escape.

Pulling his wife back against him, he smiled at Michael again ignoring Michael’s reaction to the smile. Like a variation on the Proverb, there was a time to push and a time to retreat. It was time to back off before a skittish Michael took off forever.

“We just wanted to thank you for all the effort you put into the wedding for Max. We love him and nothing is more important than family.”

Michael looked at them and edged his way to the door for an escape. “Right. No problem.” Quickly shaking Philip’s offered hand, he was out the door.

“Philip, I thought we were going to…”

“Wait. We’re going to wait, honey. Michael doesn’t need us. He hasn’t needed anyone in a long time, and when he did need help there was no one there. There’s not much we can offer him now, so we need to take this slow. In time, he might let us into his life.”

“He belonged with us. All these years…”

Philip kissed the side of his wife’s head. “I know. But we can’t go back now. Offering him a home he no longer needs isn’t going to change his life much. Let’s just slowly let him feel that he has a home with us, and maybe we’ll finally get him to accept us in his life.”

“Maybe.” Diane stood staring at the closed door for a few more moments. Maybe.

~~~

Michael was late. He did it on purpose. The choices were one of two. He could be there immediately and then be gone, or he could come late. The rooms were still filled with people, and the food was surprisingly still flowing, along with the champagne and wine.

He stopped to admire the poster with the announcement and event listed. It was artfully done and attractive to the eye. Moving into the room, he noticed people looking his way. Ignoring them, he scanned the room for her.

No Maria.

Almost ready to give up, he finally let his eyes wander over the art. And froze. Him. All him. Pictures, paintings, etchings and sculpture. He couldn’t miss the face he had stared at for over twenty-five years. She had done youthful pictures of what she thought he would look like as a child. They were close. Too close for comfort. Shocking how little escaped her artist's eyes.

Maria’s art show was almost too much. Claustrophobic, Michael headed for the door, but then the main sculpture caught his eye. Him sleeping, sprawled out in reckless abandon, the way she used to watch him sleep after sex. Damn!

Michael couldn’t move, almost couldn’t breathe. It was…revealing. Powerful, and done with painstaking honesty. Maria didn’t hide. She wasn’t hiding anything anymore. Michael rethought his decision to run, and he slowly went back into the main gallery to view the art. Oh, god. Talent. Such talent! Maria had found a way to access her emotions and channel them into a media of plaster and oil, on canvass and trapped in statue. There were two other artists on display, but even Michael, an untrained eye, recognized how outclassed they were by Maria's work.

“Michael?”

He turned to the voice that reminded him of Maria, but the woman was older with short brunette hair. Her eyes. Maria’s.

“I’m Amy DeLuca.” She reached for his hand, but before he could shake hers, she grabbed him in a full hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. Michael stood there, uncertain what to do. “You’ll just have to live with the kiss. I owed you. I owe you even more than that. My daughter is my life, and thanks to you, I got her back.” Or did she? Amy knew differently. Whatever was living in her daughter’s body didn’t belong to her anymore.

“My sister gave me the invitation. She said that there was something I needed to see.” Michael looked around him and ignored the people staring at him. Thanks to Maria’s brilliant rendition and accuracy it wasn’t like all of them couldn’t imagine him down to the buff and in great detail.

“I wanted you to see the art she’s done since she left Roswell.”

Michael nodded. “Is she…”

“Here?” Amy smiled gently. “No. I couldn’t even convince her to come. She made an excuse and disappeared over two weeks ago.”

“Disappeared?” Michael bit back a rising bile.

“Don’t worry. This time she took herself off looking for some solitude. Peace and quiet. Sometimes she needs that when things become too hard for her to handle.”

“Where is she?” asked Michael softly.

“I don’t know. She’ll call me if she needs me.”

Michael looked at all the people, and suddenly it felt too close in there. “I need to leave.”

“Wait!” Amy took his arm and led him off into a quieter alcove with fewer people. “Michael, there are so many things I need to say to you, but now…I don’t want to overstep the bounds. Just tell me why you came.”

Michael took the package he had in his hands and gave it to Amy. “I…can you make sure Maria gets this? It’s important.”

Amy looked at the package covered in a plain brown wrapper. Turning it in her hands she started to ask him a question, but he was already gone. “Oh damn.”

~~~

Maria opened her door to her mother. Figured. She had only been home for less than an hour and already the parental unit found her. Her mother had a homing beacon or something.

“Mom, you’re late. I was expecting you at least half an hour ago.”

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady. Where have you been?”

Maria just shrugged. “Around. Mostly Toronto.”

“You could’ve called, or at least made it to your art showing.”

“I could have. The thought of all those people though…I don’t know. It just didn’t set right.” Maria went to check her refrigerator. Damn. No food again. Taking down her take-out menus, she quickly flipped through them trying to find something to eat, something inspiring, and hopefully something quick and easy.

“You’re losing weight again. Maria, you can’t afford to lose any more weight.”

“I know. I’ve been eating. I swear. It’s the appetite thing.” Maria took the menus with her and sat on the sofa. “So how did my showing go?”

“I saved your reviews. You want to see them?”

Maria shrugged. Once upon a time she cared what others thought of her art, but now…it didn’t matter. They would never be able to understand. The dreams were still haunting her, and at times it was like she was living in another body. All her memories were back, but the old Maria, the one that existed before the incident, was gone forever. She searched for peace, but she couldn’t go back.

Amy sighed and looked at her daughter with the eyes of a woman that understood heartbreak. “Michael came.”

Maria looked up from her search for food that would inspire. “Michael? My Michael?”

“Is there another?”

“Mom…” Maria stood up and ran her hands through her hair. She had cut it. It was slowly growing out again, long and swinging. “Just tell me. How was he? Did he look good? Did he want to see me? How did he know about the showing? I…did he…” Maria faltered. Promises. She promised, but it had been so hard for so long.

“He came only for a short time. Did you tell Michael you were using him as a subject? He seemed genuinely shocked at your art. I don't think he was expecting to see so much of himself depicted.”

“Mom, just tell me. Was he okay?”

“He was looking for you. He asked me to give you this.” Amy reached into her bag and pulled out the present Michael had given her for Maria. Watching her daughter, she had to admit that her curiosity was killing her. Four weeks she had held that present. Four weeks of meddling hell. She had contacted Isabel Evans and discovered that Michael had returned home and was once again holed up in his house, not talking or communicating with the world.

Maria sat down and slowly opened the package. Amy tried to appear nonchalant, but she couldn’t. It was a book. The Visitor, by Michael Guerin . Maria ran her hand over the cover and slowly opened it. The dedication was to her. Because of Maria. Delivered out of darkness into the light. Goliath fell.

Amy could see some other writing below the formal dedication, but Maria was up off the sofa. Leaving the book on the sofa she ran for the stairs.

“I need to go!”

Amy frowned, but reached over and opened the front cover. Reading the inscription, she smiled. It took Maria less than five minutes to grab one of her unpacked bags and drag it back downstairs.

“Mom…I’ve got to…”

“Go! I know.”

“The studio. I’ve got to…”

“Leave it to me to take care of. Just go! Now!”

Maria rushed to the door, but quickly came back and hugged her mom, kissing her on the cheek. Amy calmly handed Maria Michael’s book. Maria held it in her hand and for a second, she seemed uncertain.

“You walked away because he needed you to, but you’ll regret it if you don’t walk back into his life.” Amy looked at her daughter. The fear was back in her eyes, but there was also a spark of hope, a reminder of life once there but recently missing. She gave Maria back her own words.

“When is it too much? Are you going to let what has passed cripple you for life, from taking chances? We esteem highly, but nothing is as dear as that for which we fight, at the risk of our own lives and hearts. Don’t fear love, just that you’ll never find it, never feel it, and let it walk away. Don’t be afraid. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“I’ll always need you, Mom.”

Amy smiled and pushed her daughter towards the door, and onward to the future. “Go now, or die living this way.”

Maria kissed her one more time, and ran for the door. Pausing for a second she looked back at the woman who had given her life, who had taught her strength and she had to be certain. “Mom, my shoes…”

“I’ll send them. Now go!”

~~~

Michael reluctantly went to answer the door. Isabel. She was the only one that consistently bugged him. Max had more sense. He stayed away from Michael's turf and only approached him on neutral ground. Surprisingly, Liz was the one that seemed to respect his need for solitude the most. She just smiled slightly and let him be.

“Isabel, I told you that…” Michael’s voice caught in his throat.

Maria.

She fidgeted a little, but he could almost see her straightening her back. “I needed to…” Maria stopped talking. God, he looked so good! It was strange. He looked tired and rugged on the edges, but just the sight of him was good. Idiot. All the things she wanted to say were caught in some vacuum. A doldrum or void where idiot children were born with tongues that didn't belong in their mouths.

She held out his book. Opening the front cover, she showed it to him. “You forgot to sign this.”

The cover simply said ‘Come home’ written in Michael’s writing with no signature. Michael took the book and tossed it aside, pulling Maria into the house.

“Hey, buddy, that’s my own personal copy of Michael Guerin ’s new book. You damage it and you’ll have to replace it.”

Maria was pushed up against the doorframe, crowded, and she circled his neck with her arms as she watched his mouth come closer.

Closing her eyes, it was easy to just melt into him. Too long. It was too long since she last touched or tasted him. Moaning into the kiss, her mouth softened as his joined hers. So typical. Michael. Not a word.

His voice was husky when he finally found it. “I missed you. We need to talk.”

Maria made a sound of denial. “Later.”

“Maria…”

"Michael…I guess I'm still confused about exactly what this is? I just know that I don’t want to examine it, define it, or take it for granted."

"Are you?"

That caught Maria off guard. Michael wanted to talk about them, and this time Michael did reach out a hand, gently caressing Maria's face, thumb running over her cheek bone. Maria's breath caught and eyes fluttered closed as if in a trance or just unable to handle the emotions she found in his eyes. It was too hard. Too much. He needed so much and she was afraid to hope that he could find what he needed in her.

Michael moved back, drawing Maria up with him into an embrace. His fingers moved through her hair, soft, thick and long. He moved the strands away from her neck and bent to kiss the hollow of her throat.

The energy burst through them, a shock of pure feeling, intense and powerfully overwhelming. Maria's fingers locked onto Michael's biceps, clinging when their lips met and devoured each other's mouths. Heat rose between them, surrounding and saturating them with this power. Michael moved his mouth away from Maria's, roaming down the curve of her neck. Maria breathed in gasps of air as if she were drowning in him, but she couldn't resist what was happening, caught up like Michael in the power of the moment. He felt lost from her for too long.

The surge subsided momentarily and they pulled back, practically shoving away from each other to lock eyes again in shocked surprise and near panic. Wonder won out and Michael lifted a trembling hand to run it down the side of her neck, curling it around and under her hair.

"What...is happening? Maria breathed, shivering and gasping. "I've never felt...anything like this...before. Only with you."

"I know. God. I know," Michael agreed. He ran his hands over his face and let out a huge breath. "But we've got to talk for just a moment."

"I don’t want to talk. Not right now. All I can think about is you and that kiss. Are we signing up for this, Michael? For the long haul? I'm mighty confused right now. And if you get any nearer to me I won't be able to think of anything but that kiss and you. Don’t ask me to make decisions that affect us both until I can think a little straighter."

Michael almost smiled. Maria was talking around in circles...seeing and yet not. For all the image that Maria gave of being sophisticated, Michael knew that Maria had yet to have a deep meaningful relationship with anyone. This could be the first if she had let enough of the past go to find it in herself to commit. Suddenly, Michael wanted desperately for this to be such a relationship, but only if Maria wanted it too. It was nice to have someone just like himself, afraid of saying everything. Afraid of what it could mean.

"I'm trying to understand this thing, Maria. You and I both know that neither of us has been very willing to commit in the past. Then all of a sudden this feeling started creeping over me and I started thinking you and I have been spending way too much time together, that it was all about two people in an intense situation. But then all I could think of was you and being with you." Michael shook his head. "No, I'm not being honest enough. You know me, Maria. I'm not that great with words. I'm a man of action, as the saying goes. I can write the words, but saying them…"

Michael saw something flash in Maria's eyes, a moment of fear then a sparkle of excitement?

"I don't want to hurt you, DeLuca. But I can tell you that I want to own you. Body and soul. I don't like being out of control here. With you, I feel out of control."

Michael took a tentative step forward towards Maria's still form, standing isolated and away from him. She was standing by the open door leading out to the deck. The wind had picked up and it blew the soft strands of her hair back around Maria's cheeks and chin, blowing across her forehead and into her eyes. The she reached up and pushed hair from her face, pushing it behind one ear where silver hoops hung with little turquoise beads gleaming.

"You're awfully quiet."

Maria shrugged and Michael almost pounced like the coyote rearing up inside of him. He pushed it down, subdued the beast again and took another step closer.

"Do we want this to happen? Do you? This thing, it will either bind us together forever permanently or it will drive us apart forever. I don't want to lose you. Please. Help me understand what is happening to me...to us," Michael said, moving towards her slowly so as to appear non-threatening.

"It...has to be...the love thing. I don’t know. I’ve never felt it before. I just know that I missed you more than anything I have ever experienced, more than I missed my own life and memories. What I feel for you, I can’t explain. Maybe this is the final test of it, because I know it scares me. That we can survive this together," Maria finally said with innocent eyes and a beseeching gaze.

"Does that mean we go with it or fight it?"

Maria's face turned anguished with lack of knowledge.

"I don't know, Michael. I don't know. But I don't want to lose you either. I want to make you happy...safe...secure...." Maria searched for words. She had left him because she was hurting him, making him feel things he couldn’t or didn’t want to feel. That had to have changed for him to ask her to come back to him. Maria took a breath and searched for the bravery in her heart. Chances. They spent too many years not taking any chances with their own hearts. Could they even learn to do it now? They were both essentially selfish people, but with each other they seemed to find a way to be givers and not takers.

Michael stood before his destiny and looked into Maria's green-eyed, open and ready gaze. Had Maria just offered herself up as a test...the sacrifice, if necessary, to his alien soul? Was she allowing Michael the choice? Forward or back. Michael couldn't see behind him any longer. The path had disappeared. He made the choice when he asked her to come home. There was only Maria and the future.

"Then stay with me. But do it willingly. Not because you need me, or because circumstances force us together. Stay because this is the only place you want to be. Don't ever say you didn't have a choice or that I forced you."

"I wouldn't do that, Michael. You are everything to me. I dream about you. Sometimes I talk to you, but if I stay without promises than you have to do something for me."

"Tell me, and I’ll do it. Then you’re mine."

“I need a place to paint and work.” Maria said hiding a smile.

Michael groaned and pulled her with him back into his arms. “I’ll build you a studio.”

Up the stairs they went, Michael nearly pulling Maria off her feet as they reached the top step. Michael whirled Maria around and picked her up. The bed. It was too far, but he made it. He was on top of Maria then, kissing those lips just as he'd been dreaming of for weeks, feeling the mass of golden hair against his cheek. Maria's hands clutched at his arms, trying to hold back and let him lead. style="mso-spacerun: yes">

"Are you sure you want this? I can still let you go," Michael whispered into Maria's ear and kissed the lobe with earrings dangling down.

"Can you?" Maria asked him gently. Funny. She was sure they were doomed from the beginning.

Michael stared in her eyes, and nothing short of honesty rang from his mouth. "No. Never."

He couldn’t let her go. Never again.

“Oh baby…” Maria whispered softly.

Then the power surged through them again, shocking them into action. Michael rose off the bed and pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. He watched Maria gaze up at him, mesmerized with his actions. He slipped out of his jeans and reached for Maria's waist, pulling the zipper of her skirt down easily and then off. The tiny t-shirt came last and Michael laid on top of her again, bare skin against bare skin, hot and tingling as the surge overcame them again.

It went on and on, not letting up at all. The power drove them together and Michael took control, turning Maria around, kissing her. Searching her body for signs of neglect and abuse since she had been out of his care. Maria seemed to shake with the knowledge of what was about to happen, letting Michael drive them with a cry and a gasp of surprise.

Michael pulled Maria up to him, chest pressed to her front. He laid down kiss after kiss along the back of Maria's sweat-soaked neck, kissing her just behind the ear, making her moan. Michael's hand came around to move down Maria’s body, stroking her while they rocked gently. The power swelled within them, seeping out and then soaked back up through their pores, right through the skin of their naked bodies bound together in their mutual need for each other.

Oh god! Michael smiled against her skin as she kept repeating that phrase over and over. This was more than sex...more than physical...more than life and breath and love and pain. This was completeness.

Michael sucked in air, feeling Maria arching her back and actually meeting his thrusts. She wrapped fingers around his thighs and held on, coming with a moan that had forgotten pain or hesitation. And Michael thrust harder with the need to finish this as close to Maria's coming as possible.

He forced her to open beneath him, driving harder with his urgency, clinging with a firm grip on Maria's hips. Light exploded, energy seeming to spark out across the room to singe the ceiling and their bodies as well. A roaring filled Michael’s hearing. Light blinded him. He tasted only Maria's essence, felt only Maria's hot skin against his for what might have been eternity.

Sound slowly began to seep back to normal, Maria's breathing was ragged in his ears, unsteady and gasping, but her heart beat strong and fast, powerfully alluring in its rhythm. Normal darkness descended, brightness fading to the light from below left on in the living room. Only Maria's scent remained just beneath him, soft hair tickling his nose, smelling of patchouli and honeysuckle. And her body, pinned beneath him, still hot and sweat-drenched, shivered ever so subtly.

They had made love. God! What had they done?! God! And he didn't care. This was more than before. Much more. He let all his defenses down and it felt as if she had moved inside his body, inside his empty heart, and for the first time in his life, all he could feel was warmth.

"Michael..." Maria gasped.

He kissed the back of her neck as he held her against his chest, hands running down Maria's sides. “Stay,” was all he said. He whispered it in her ear.

She turned in his arms and looked at him. Earnest. He was so very earnest, but she didn’t think he understood what he was asking for.

“You’ll have to find a place for my shoes as well.” She reminded him gently.

“Damn.”

Maria laughed and hugged him.

Michael closed his eyes and concentrated on feeling good for the first time in almost a half a year. She had said yes, but he wasn’t sure she understood what they were talking about.

“I want babies.” He said feeling her go still.

“Three,” Maria said, feeling him smile against her.

“Five,” Michael said in her ear. “I love you.”

Maria thought about it for a moment. “We’ll negotiate.”

~~~

“This is a bad idea.” Liz said. Her back hurt. It started that morning, but she was getting used to it. If she had any sense she would have stayed home, but she couldn’t stay home and let Max and Isabel invade Michael’s life without trying to be the voice of reason.

She owed Michael. More than she could say. Without a word, or even an acknowledgement he made her feel like she finally belonged when he helped her over the baby, the Crashdown, and finally when he took them all to Vegas to get married. He kept to his word. He was silent, and didn’t want to know anything, but a few times when business was too brisk and Max was struggling to keep ahead while Liz was forced to cut back because of the pregnancy, Michael suddenly showed up and flipped burgers like he did in his youth.

“He can’t just keep hiding in there pretending the world doesn’t exist, that we don’t exist. All this brooding. It’s bad.” Isabel stated her feelings and in a play of control she had coerced both Max and Liz to join her in a forced invasion. She preferred to think of it as an intervention.

Max just remained cool and aloof over Isabel’s plan. Holding Liz’s hand he waited to see how the latest skirmish between the twins worked out. Isabel was getting more and more worried that Michael would just take off forever, and personally Max was with Isabel in not wanting to see that happen.

He had always had Isabel, since they were children. Somehow, along the way they missed that it was Michael who held them together. He was the one they worried about the most, the one that they missed, and when things went wrong, it was usually Michael that mysteriously discovered the answer. Life without Michael was inconceivable for both of them, so erring on the side of extreme interference more times then he could count, he and Isabel got in Michael’s face and forced him to interact and be part of them.

Max knew Michael hated it. That he preferred to be alone, but if they backed off and left him at his word, it seemed very possible that one day they’d wake up to find him completely gone. It was hard to put words to the pain that very thought caused, but it did. It hurt. Isabel bled the most, because in her mind there was a connection to Michael, a mental door. In all the years since they lost him, that door remained firmly closed. It was like a reminder to her that she left him behind, a punishment.

Isabel banged on the door. He was home. She could feel him that much to realize that he was in his large lonely house. Avoiding them. Avoiding her. Damn him.

She raised her hand to pound on the door again when suddenly it opened. Michael. Angry Michael. Her eyebrow went up. Undressed Michael. It was late afternoon, she couldn’t believe they woke him from a sound sleep, but he looked disheveled, as if he had just left the bed. His hair was everywhere. He was shirtless and his pants weren’t even fastened as he stood there in his bare feet.

“ What? What in the name of hell can be so important that you stand on my doorstep banging? Don’t you have a damn phone? Didn’t your family ever teach you to call first before dropping by?” Michael was on a fine rant. “I’m getting killer attack dogs, dammit. I'm going to put in a high wire security fence, electrified so that it zaps pests that ‘just drop by’. Dammit, what the hell does it take to get some privacy?”

“Shut up, Michael, and step aside,” Isabel determined to not be daunted by her brother, shouldered him to the side and strode into his house. Startled, she stopped in her tracks. It felt alive. Warm. Lived in. Michael’s house felt like home. It was hard to explain, but in the past Michael always seemed on the verge of running, leaving, and his place was just like a stopping ground. Now it felt different. Breathing easier, Isabel actually smiled and turned to look at her brother who was glaring at both Max and Liz as they followed her in.

Finally taking in her brother’s glare, she faltered. Uh oh. He didn’t look like he just woke up. Actually he looked like she just… Isabel quickly amended that thought, wanting to spread the blame… they just interrupted him at an inopportune time. The red bite on his neck was a dead giveaway.

Michael was still ranting and growling under his breath when a voice on the stairs stopped him. Turning, the three froze like statues.

“Perhaps it’s time you actually formally introduced me?” Michael swore. Dammit. What the hell did Maria have to do with his irritating family?

Maria both recognized and ignored the dark possessive look ranging across his face. As she suspected, Michael wasn’t good at sharing, which suited her fine. She was an only child herself, so sharing wasn’t high on her list of things she did.

“Nevermind. I’ll do it.” Maria moved off the stairs, forgetting that she was wearing nothing but Michael’s shirt only partially buttoned up, and it was pretty obvious that she and Michael had been interrupted during a very intimate moment. “Michael, why don’t you make us some coffee.” Seeing a very pregnant Liz, “Perhaps decaffeinated.”

“You’re Maria DeLuca.” Isabel said in awe. She hadn’t known that Maria had come back or that Michael had been in contact with her.

“I am, and you would be Isabel. I recognize you from the picture.” Isabel tipped her head in wonder. Michael had a picture of her? That actually warmed her heart, but Michael gave Maria a look of warning. He didn’t want to discuss the Dupree connection as of yet. He still was uncertain what to do about it. “And that makes you, Max and Liz,” said Maria turning to the couple. “Congratulations on your wedding…um, and your baby.”

Michael watched both Max and Liz struggle to find words. They were uncertain what to say, and looking at each other, and finally Michael, they decided to take their cues from him. Michael just shrugged. What the hell? They already ruined his plans to stay in bed with Maria for at least the next twenty-four hours and Isabel didn’t look like she was ready to leave anytime soon.

He went to make coffee.

“Michael…” Maria called after him.

Smirking he just waved behind him. “Yeah, I know. You’re hungry. Give me a few.”

Max quickly kissed Liz, and led her to a place to sit, then followed Michael into the kitchen. Isabel was already quizzing and asking Maria questions. Liz would report the entire conversation later.

“Sorry about this, Michael.”

Michael just grunted. “If you were sorry, you’d have stopped Isabel instead of coming with her.”

Max had to concede that point. True. He wasn’t as proactive towards Michael as Isabel was, but he trusted her instinct in regard to their wayward brother.

“Maybe. But you’ve been home a few weeks, and I haven't seen you. Not even for basketball or anything. I just needed to know you were okay, so when Isabel…”

“Outlined her invasion plan, you followed the little Nazi. Damn, she’s worse than an invading army. What are the chances I’m going to get her away from Maria in the next half hour?”

“Slim to none.” Max smiled at the flash of irritation on Michael’s face. “So is she staying?”

Michael shrugged. “We were in the middle of negotiations when the pile of you decided to interrupt. Things were looking good for me. Now I guess I’ll have to start all over and try to make up lost ground.”

Max laughed. “Negotiations? Really? And you were winning?”

“Not really, but Maria is really good at letting a person think they’re making some headway. It’s all in the art of it.”

“I see.” Max didn’t really, but obviously Michael knew what he talking about. “I can help you out. Promise to come to dinner this weekend, and bring Maria and I think Isabel might back off enough to leave you in peace.”

“Dinner? At your place?” Michael began constructing large turkey sandwiches on a plate with extra mayo.

“Yeah. Our place.” Max laughed under his breath. He knew Michael was afraid it would be at his parents' home. The older Evans had been very firm in their pursuit of a relationship with Michael, and they alone sent Michael scurrying from Roswell like the very devil was on his tail.

“Okay, but three hours, no more.”

“Five and you bring Liz a nice gift.”

Michael snorted. “Four, and I won’t glare at her once the entire evening.”

“Done.”

Max helped Michael take the coffee out to the living room. He noticed that Michael made sure to keep the plate of sandwiches in his possession. When they reentered the living room, Liz was standing, clearly in distress.

“I think my water just broke.”

“Dammit! Not on my carpet! Parker!”

Everyone ignored Michael as they ran around in massed confusion trying to get Liz to the doctor. Max kept mumbling under his breath, ‘Oh god’ while Isabel for once lost her ability to organize everything. Maria just calmly rescued the plate of sandwiches and told Michael to call the doctor. Eating her sandwich on the way to the Indian hospital and Eddie, Maria regaled the group with birthing horror stories from her friends, which did nothing but make Max swear and insist Michael speed up. Michael actually complied when Maria told the story about her cousin delivering her niece in the backseat of their car.

Parker had already killed his carpet. No way in hell was she birthing on his car seats.

After they wheeled Liz away with a frantic Max following, and Isabel was off calling her parents, Michael noticed that Maria was still holding the plate of sandwiches. She was in a pair of cut-offs, his shirt and no underwear, wearing the second pair of shoes he bought her. Michael barely had time to grab a clean shirt and push his feet into a pair of shoes with a whacked-out Max all over the place and in his face. Isabel kept calling numbers on her phone. The only calm person had been Liz and an eating Maria. The alien children were models of insanity.

“Still think you want five?” Maria asked, carefully keeping her plate of sandwiches out of his reach. Michael put his arm around her waist and pulled her close, kissing the side of her neck. While she was thus distracted he took a sandwich from her. “Hey!”

“I’ve reconsidered. Maybe just three.”

Later when they went to see Liz and her new son, Michael was surprised when Max handed the baby to him. Staring at the strange creature, Michael critically checked the kid over. It looked pretty shriveled. He blamed Parker for that.

“Michael,” Max said, smiling at Michael’s confusion.

“What?” Michael asked, tearing his eyes from his new nephew.

“We’re naming him after you,” said Liz softly. It had been her idea. Michael surprisingly was there for her when she needed him, and somehow having another Michael in the family just seemed right. "We're naming him Michael Geoffrey Evans."

Maria smiled softly, as Michael suddenly seemed overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do or say. Michael Evans. Putting her hand on his back she leaned across him stroking a gentle finger down the baby’s check.

“Well, hello, Michael. You are very much wanted in this family, but I have to warn you, your namesake is a hell of a man to follow. You’ll have your task set out for you.”

Michael looked at Maria in shock and for a moment they just gazed at each other, then to their audience's surprise Michael actually leaned towards Maria and kissed her hard with the baby between them. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead against hers.

“I changed my mind again.” Michael said softly. “Definitely five.”

~~~

“C’mon Guerin. We can take these bozos.”

Michael looked at Kyle and frowned. “What’re the stakes, Sheriff?”

“Double or nothing, and if you can sink all our balls in less than five rounds shot, than it’s tripled.”

Michael made a face and nodded. Taking his pool cue, he gave Kyle a straight stare. “You realize that using my ‘talents’ to shake down tourist at pool is probably illegal?”

Kyle just made a face. “I’ve got three kids and another on the way so don’t talk to me about money. I’m the Sheriff of this small burg. I’ll decide what’s illegal, and what’s just raw talent.”

Michael looked at Kyle ‘The Shark’ Valenti and shrugged. It was always good to be in the know with Roswell law enforcement. “Okay, but you buy the next beer.”

Maria was watching Michael and Kyle cheat at pool and smiled. The entire group was at the Cow Patty listening to the return of Jim Valenti and the Kit Shickers’ first gig since Jim had retired from law enforcement and moved to Tucson. He and Amy had just returned from their honeymoon cruise and stopped in Roswell to see their kids and grandchildren.

Michael came to sit beside Maria, happily counting his loot. “You’ll go to hell for that.”

Michael kissed her on the cheek, but kept counting his take. “Give me a break. I live in frickin’ Roswell. One step from Hell, a definite Purgatory.”

“Hmm.” Maria looked at her watch and wondered when they could gracefully leave, deserting family and friends. After living in Roswell for eight months, she still didn’t like to leave their little house in the woods for too long. Michael was socializing more and more, in his own way, but some things never really changed. He was still his old self, and when his book hit the best seller’s list he was horrified to learn that they wanted him to do book signings and touring. It was enough to make him rethink his career options.

“What? You ready to go home?”

“If you are. Isabel should be here soon with Alex . She wanted us to invite her and Alex to dinner so she can tell us she’s pregnant.”

“What?” Michael looked around as if haunted. “What’s that?”

“Pregnant. You know...baby? Smaller versions of adults? Loud?”

“Dammit, what is Roswell? A baby factory? Kyle and Vicky expecting another one. Kyle’s partner Hanson and his wife are expecting twins. Max and Liz are cooing over little Mikey and making cow eyes over each other, talking about another one. They’ve got a perfectly good one already, so why tempt fate with trying to produce another? They’re going to have a hard time duplicating one as good as Mikey anyway. Now Isabel?”

“Thought you wanted five, Spaceboy.”

“Yeah, we need to keep working on that. We’ve got to build onto the house first. You’ve got art shows in Tucson and Chicago coming up, and we were going to Oregon to cover that story on the oil refineries.”

“Too busy for babies. Poor us,” Maria said, smiling and checking her watch again.

“We’ll make time, but first did I tell you that this refinery story looks a little shaky? I got us an invite to go an offshore oil rig, and things look pretty questionable.”

“Uh huh.” Maria looked at her watch again.

Michael recognized that look. It was the 'distracted Maria' look. When she was wanting to work on her art or had something to do, she got that look. After living together for eight months, he was getting used to all her little ways. She was undeniably the worst person to do laundry. Her shoe fetish was only overshadowed by her Michael fetish, and she had a thing for salami. The salami thing was still confusing him.

“Okay, tell me. What’s going on?”

Maria looked around quickly. “My mom and Jim wanted to talk to us about marriage.” Michael just swore. “I heard Isabel talking to her mom about saving all the wedding magazines from her wedding for us, and Mrs. Evans told me that Isabel, Liz, Sarah and Vicky would make beautiful bridesmaids.”

Michael downed the rest of his drink in one swallow and passed Maria the car keys. He usually nursed his beer a lot slower. This one was going to hit him hard. “Damn. Are the Evans’ coming tonight?” Maria nodded. “We’re outta here!”

Michael waved at Max across the bar and took the quickest route away from impending chaos. He used to have problems with people bugging him before he got together with Maria. Now it was worse. They all assumed that Maria made him more approachable and he’d suddenly find himself babysitting Valenti kids, or his nephew and feeding people who normally would have kept their distance. Now he had to look forward to Isabel being a royal pain and dropping her litter on ‘Uncle Michael’ to help socialize him. Damn. They needed to consider moving somewhere less populated. Maybe another planet.

Isabel’s wedding to Alex Whitman had been a long nightmare, and now the little wedding planner was eyeballing his life. Mass destruction.

“Maybe we should just tell them?”

“What?” Michael asked, barely making it out the door before they got stopped. He dodged to the right when he saw the Evans with the Valentis, Sr. entering.

“That we got married seven months ago.” Maria said absentmindedly. “They’re going to be pissed.”

“It was your fault. I saw you eyeing that shoe store. It was merely a tactic in distraction.”

“It worked. I’ve been distracted every since.”

Michael laughed and waited for her to open the car for him. “Your mother is going to be mad that we took off without saying goodbye.”

“She’ll get over it. She and Jim are so busy fawning over Vicky and the kids that they barely notice us, thank goodness. And she and Diane Evans have been comparing baby pictures of the grandkids. Plus she’ll forgive us.” Maria was still stupefied by her mother’s ne wes t role of grandmother to Kyle’s kids. She was shocked to see her ultra modern mother suddenly so domesticated. Ever since then it had been a living hell, with her sizing up Maria and Michael for future grandchildren. They had agreed to hold out until after their six month anniversary to even consider it.

Maria headed the car home, and Michael lazed back in the passenger seat sighing in relief to be away from ‘nosey Parkers’ and do-gooders. It was nice to be out of Roswell, and the darkness of Fraser Woods welcomed them. He could see the lights on in her studio. She was always forgetting to turn them off. The new studio addition was almost completely windows for maximum exposure and it had two entry ways, one from the basement level and another through his office.

Closing the garage door, he followed Maria into the house. She was already shedding her clothes as she walked, heading straight for their bedroom. It was still early.

“What’s the hurry?”

Maria turned around and smiled at her husband. “I’ve got plans.”

“Plans?”

“Uh huh. My slutty girl is all decked out and whistling for some soldiers. You want to party?”

Fertile. Maria had dropped her pills over a month ago. “They might not be able to get the job done this time. It could take practice.”

“That’s okay. We’ve got nothing but time. Turn off the light, baby, and come out of the dark.” Maria said smiling at him with her bra handing from a finger. Michael turned off the downstairs lights and rushed up the stairs, pulling Maria behind him. Tomorrow was going to be okay.

The End