The Lunar Moth was magnificent in its size and beauty. It was hard to find a perfect specimen, and preservation was important. Very few people took the time to understand how things of beauty rarely lasted a long time and that beauty, being a fleeting thing, required special attention to detail.

After carefully mounting the specimen, he took out his magnifying glass, and searched its lovely body, enjoying the perfection that only nature could achieve. Suddenly he stopped.

It was marred.

Along a line of distinctive color was a blemish spot, an imperfection. Ripping the imperfect one from the mounting and tossing it aside like so much garbage, he sat shaking as the violence raged inside.

Standing up from his worktable he entered a special room, a place that held his collection of insects and other specimens. Each was perfectly preserved to show the wonder of nature. Everythingon this stinking planet was polluted, destroyed. Nature barely held on against the virus, the disease...man. Some things didn’t deserve to survive, and others deserved to be preserved for all times.

Picking up his killing jar, he went in search of perfection...

~~~

Maria swept into the bullpen of Major Crimes with a cool confidence that was created by effortless experience. A Professor of Anthropology at UNM Roswell, Maria DeLuca understood very well how important it was to remain firm and confident in the face of great adversity. Immediately spotting her biggest problem she calmly made her way to his side, smiling and responding to the numerous greetings tossed her way.

Detective Michael Guerin needed background music to live his life. (Maybe the theme to the movie Jaws?) If he had had this music, he would have been forewarned that his lover and roommate of a year was bearing down on him. Instead he was like a lamb to the kill. By the time he turned and saw her, it was already too late to flee the premises. Quickly running through the excuses he had practiced all day, he tried to decide on one. Looking her over, Michael knew he was in trouble. She was wearing a short, tight silk dress that appeared almost revealing at times. It was a trick. The dress was a designer model made to draw the eye and lure a man into the trap.

“Stay strong.” Michael looked over at his partner and best friend for over six years, Max Evans. Yeah, right. Strong. Michael felt his resolve weakening as Maria stopped at his desk and hopped up on the corner, showing a great deal of her incredible legs. He loved her legs.

“Detective.”

“Professor? To what do we owe this honor? A new corpse? A missing armor? Perhaps a speeding ticket or two?” Maria pouted prettily at Michael, knowing his diversion tactics well. After a year of living together, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen every trick in the book.

“So unfair! I haven’t found a corpse in months! And the armor was last year...those speeding tickets were a gross miscarriage of justice! Since when did the Roswell PD start hiring female patrolmen?”

“Normally Professor, you are a strong advocate of ERA, but I guess it's hard to talk your way out of a speeding ticket when the officer is female.”

“That’s so not true! She could have been gay. It might have worked.”

“I would’ve let you off, Maria.” Max said earning a beautiful friendly smile from her.

“Yeah, keep it in your pants, partner. She’s taken.” Michael frowned at Max. His partner was a great guy, but his attention to Maria over the last year bugged him. Actually it made him...unsettled.

“Anyway, honey...” Michael winced at the tone of the endearment. She was moving in for the kill. “I came by to remind you not to be late coming home tonight.”

”Tonight?” Michael tried to pretend to forget they had plans. “I’m sorry, Professor, but it looks like a long night for me and Max. We just picked up another lead on Pierce.” Michael moved into her personal space and rubbed his head up against her neck to whisper in her ear. “You know how important the Pierce case has been to me.”

Maria frowned and let her eyes narrow. Cruel calculating beast! He was pulling out the big guns. Pierce was Michael’s largest thorn in his side. For over a year he had been in endless bloody battles with this big crime name that surprisingly had no face. Now, it was coming down to a blood tally sheet between the two, and Maria wished that Pierce would slip up just once, so it could be over.

“Oh! I understand, Detective. I understand perfectly. I can go to the charity auction myself. That’s okay. Jonathan Stiller is going, so I’ll just sit with him.” Maria waited for the cussing that Michael spewed under his breath to end. “But in just in case you can make it, I’ll pick up your tux from the dry cleaners.” Michael frowned at that. A year ago, PMD (Pre-Maria DeLuca), he didn't even owna damn tux.

“Maria...” Michael hated going to formal events. He hated dressing in formal wear, and more than that he hated Jonathan Stiller. The man was always ingratiating himself into Maria’s life and events. The man was a chicken sh-it, and Michael went out of his way to get in the man’s face.

“It's okay, honey. I understand.” Maria moved in for the kill. “I wish you could make it, because you know how much I love you in a tux.” Maria pulled him in closer to her, opening her legs to take him up close and ignored all the people around them as she ran a finger up his shirt, moving her glistening red lips closer to his, knowing he was watching her mouth like he always did. Maria let her tongue delicately come out to moisten her lips and then gently bit her bottom lip, smiling smugly at the moan from Michael, and tuning out the other ones near by. “There are so many intimate and comfortablealcoves in the auction hall. Places that are so dark and quiet...very much like that side room we found during the Museum’s Grand Opening, but if you can’t go...”

Michael leaned forward and kissed her hard. She was so good at this. He didn’t know what he liked more, her pulling him into semi-private rooms for public sex, or her trying to manipulate him when he was being stubborn. Both were so damn good. “I’ll try...”

Maria gave a laugh and kissed him hard before jumping down. “Thank you, Detective! Oh, could you pick up some groceries on your way home?” Michael nodded and smirked to himself. She won, and she knew she had won. Michael never made promises he couldn’t keep. Michael took the piece of paper she handed him and watched her leave the room.

“Whipped! You are so whipped.” Max said softly just for Michael’s ears.

“Bite me, Partner. I’m not responsible for your jealousy.” Max laughed at Michael’s response, but he still felt a tinge. Michael was right. He wasjealous. Even after a year, Max still couldn’t find a way to get over his eternal fascination for Maria DeLuca, the forbidden fruit. Somehow Michael was succeeding to keep himself in a long and loving relationship with little to no effort.

Captain Jim Valenti watched as his soon-to-be stepdaughter was making her way out of the bullpen. He had been engaged to Maria’s mom for six years. Amy DeLuca decided a year ago to finally set the wedding date, making the past year the Wedding Preparation from Hell. Jim knew someday he would be marrying Amy DeLuca, just from one moment to the next, he wasn’t always sure of the date.

“Maria.” Maria smiled and kissed her favorite soon-to-be father on the cheek.

”Jim! If you’re going to complain about Michael and me missing Sunday dinner again, I must defer to Michael and have him take the blame. He joined a basketball league, and he swears he can’t perform without me watching.” Maria chuckled to herself over the double meaning in that statement.

“Actually sweetie, I was going to ask that you try not to give my entire department collective orgasms every time you come to visit Guerin. It’s shocking how little work I can get out of them for the rest of the day.” Maria laughed and nodded as she took herself off to work.

Michael watched as Maria walked out of the bullpen with other people watching her go too. He smiled at her laugh as she stopped to exchange words with Cap. Max observed his partner with a smirk on his face. He enjoying how bemused Maria still made Michael even after a year. Michael finally shook himself back to reality and absentmindedly looked at the grocery list Maria left him. Eggs, milk, cheese, bread, cocoa puffs, and...!!

Michael quickly folded the list in half. After all this time and all the things they had done together, he was more passionately involved with her today then he was in the first days they had met. This seemed impossible, because in the beginning of their relationship they had been out of control and in heat. However Michael was finally coming to suspect that it wasn't just biological imperatives or pheromones that kept them going at each other. It just seemed that this was how they were destined to be. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was to have found her.

Max looked up at Michael sharply at the rapid intake of breath and noticed him quickly putting the list in a safe place. Once Michael was busy elsewhere, Max, sitting across the desk from Michael, couldn't stop turning his eyes back to that one piece of paper....finally when his resistance was worn down; he discreetly reached across and plucked it from Michael's desk. Scanning down, his eyes lit on that one last word, Eggs, milk, cheese, bread, cocoa puffs... handcuffs. Oh! Max pulled at his suddenly tight collar, and settled down to spend the rest of the day in envy of his partner.

~~~

Maria rushed through the house tossing her stuff left and right as soon as she entered the door. Twenty millions things could go wrong in a course of a day, and today they had. Kicking off her shoes with a fling of her foot and rushing for the stairs, Maria absently mindedly muttered a “Sorry” to Mr. Booboo who barely escaped death by shoeing.

The impromptu meeting with her Department Chair and dissertation committee was unexpected. Having Tess crying her eyes out in her office was just another thing. The heat control on the environmental units at the Museum going out was a nuisance. But the dry cleaners misplacing her backless Versace dress was unforgivable!

Maria entered her dressing room off the bathroom and searched for something, anything to wear. Great. Just great.

Leather?

No.

Strapless? Maria looked down at her lack of endowment and didn’t want to have to fuss with Michael breaking his neck looking down the front of her dress.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Hello? Maria pulled out a dress that had no real reason to exist except to drive her roommate insane. Halter top, mohair, and tight. Perfect. Shoes? Damn! Damn! Damn...oh hey! Four-inch spikes from the House of Choo. Perfect!

Maria rushed to run a bath. She was already late, and if she didn’t hurry she and Michael would have to fight for the bathroom and the sink. It was definitely time to do some expansion and redecorating. Maria was putting on the finishing touches when the front door opened. Smiling she went to the banister to look down.

“Dammit! Stop pushing me into the damn door.” Maria frowned at Michael’s angry tone, and quickly rushed down the stairs.

“You weigh a ton, you ox. I told you not to eat that second burger!” Max said swearing loudly.

“I was starving. You know my stomach was queasy this morning. I don’t know why Hanson had to sit next to me during briefing. He smelt like greasy hot wings, and cheese whiz.” Maria watched as Max and Kyle hauled Michael into the room, with Sean following.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” Maria rushed downstairs to the “boys” to check out her property, while noticing Kyle’s split lip, Sean with a black eye, and Max favoring his right side along the way.

Max finally looked over at Maria and just went silent. Oh, sh-it! She looked...beautiful! Michael looked at his partner and frowned, and then at his girlfriend and frowned even more. What the hell was she wearing that dress for? The last and only time she wore it was when... Oh no, she’s not wearing that dress out of the house.

“Whatcha got on, Professor?” Maria came closer and noticed Michael was favoring his left knee.

“A dress.” Maria looked at Michael and frowned. He looked terrible. “What did you do to your knee?”

Michael let his tone become hard and sarcastic as he looked over at Kyle and Sean. “I didn’t do a damn thing to my knee! They did!”

Kyle actually avoided looking at Maria and had the grace to look embarrassed. “I sort of fell on him.” Kyle reluctantly sighed when Maria’s brow went upward. “From a third story building...” Kyle quickly perked up. “But Sean pushed me!”

“Snitch! It was only two stories.”

“Well get his pants off, let’s look at that knee.” Maria noticed the three men suddenly were busy looking elsewhere. “Oh for god’s sake, I’ll do it.” Men...like they haven’t checked each other over a few times. Maria went over and looked at her poor mate. He really did seem to be in pain. Kissing his lips gently, she quickly unbuckled, unzipped and pulled his jeans off, swearing as his wrecked knee came into view. She quickly covered him with the throw from the back of the sofa. “Why the hell didn’t you take him to the hospital?” Maria rounded on the other three. They sheepishly tried to avoid her eyes looking down at their feet.

“I wouldn’t let them.” Maria turned back to Michael.

“Why? Dammit Michael, this looks really bad! You might have torn a ligament, or dislocated a...”

“I’m not going to that damn hospital. I hate that place. All the nurses know me, the doctors just say...oh its Detective Guerin again! I’m not going!” Michael swore a blue streak when Maria tried to finish removing his jeans. “Poking and prodding me like some damn turkey to test if I’m done. Oh sh-it!” Michael put his head back on the sofa as black spots moved in front of his eyes from the pain, leaving a wake of nausea in its path.

Maria just threw up her hands and left him sitting on the sofa. Going to the kitchen she opened up the freezer and grabbed two bags of frozen peas, a fresh porterhouse steak, and the First Aid kit under the counter. Taking the phone off the receiver, she went back into the living room putting a bag of peas on Michael’s knee, pushing her cousin Sean into a chair and slapping a raw steak on his face, and looking at Max she tossed him the other bag of frozen peas and ignored him as he stripped his shirt off and put the bag on his dislocated shoulder.

Going over to Kyle, Maria pushed him down in a chair and took out some antiseptic from the First Aid kit and cleaned his split lip. “Is this the worst of it for you?”

Kyle nodded. “Yeah, Guerin broke my fall.” Both Max and Sean snickered as Michael just growled under his breath.

“I see. Uh huh.” Maria calmly dialed a number on her phone as she walked back into the kitchen to grab a six pack of beer and a glass. The men watched her silently as she walked around listening for someone to answer the phone. Each of them looked at one another afraid Maria was calling Amy to come take care of them.

Michael watched her, taking in the fit of her dress, the way it clung to her lean hips, and showed a large expanse of skin on her back. The damn auction! She wasn’t wearing that to the event, not without him, and definitely not alone. “Hi, Jonathan? Hi, it’s Maria DeLuca.”

Michael swore under his breath trying to not appear bothered that she was talking to that chickensh-it Stiller. Michael’s face grew darker as she laughed delightfully at something the man said as she opened a beer, passed one to Sean, then Kyle, and then poured half of one into the glass for Max. Setting the other half-empty beer on the coffee table, Maria calmly opened another.

“Jonathan, I have a terribly important favor to beg of you, and I would eternally be in your debt if you were to do it.” Michael stayed quiet and stony faced as Maria turned and handed him his beer sitting across from him on the coffee table pulling his foot into her lap and repositioning the bag of frozen peas. “I have a family emergency and can’t make the auction tonight.” Maria watched as surprise moved over Michael’s face. “Could you see to everything for me? Yes, the Foundation has all the workers in place, just find Carol and tell her I had an emergency, and she will take care of everything.” Maria ran her hand up Michael’s leg soothingly. “Thanks! You're a lifesaver! I’ll give you a call tomorrow to see how it went. Lunch? Absolutely! I’ll meet you at the Towers at eleven-thirty tomorrow? Noon would be even better! Thanks!”

Maria noticed the look of gratitude in Michael’s eyes, and moved his foot off her lap, to move over and sit next to him on the sofa. “Thanks, Professor.” Michael said softly next to her, as her mouth was mere inches from his. He knew that the auction was a charity fundraiser for the Museum, so Maria missing it was a big deal.

“Anytime, Detective.” Maria kissed him softly and then not so softly ignoring the others. Moving her hand under the throw she stroked his upper thigh. “Did anything else get damaged?”

Michael coughed and laughed at the twinkle in her eyes. “No. No, I think everything else is fine.”

“So someone want to tell me what happened?” Maria looked over at Kyle who was pushing Max’s dislocated shoulder back into place by leaning into it. Max was turning pale and swearing. Poor Max, he didn’t look so good. Maria’s eyes suddenly narrowed as the four men tried to avoid her eyes and all started talking at once about anything but her question. “Sean?”

Sean swore under his breath. Why did she always pick on him first? “It was nothing, M. I swear. Just an incident.”

“Incident?” Maria gestured at Michael’s knee. “Uh huh, I see. Kyle?”

“It just happened.” Kyle tried to remain strong and undaunted by Maria’s earnest glare.

They all groaned when she turned on Max, who was still sweating from the exertion and pain from having his shoulder popped back in place. The three men watched the otherwise strong Detective melt under the charm of Maria’s smile and the gentle soft sound of her voice. “Max?”

“It wasn’t our fault. The bust was ours...” Max trailed off under the violent protest from both Sean and Kyle, and wilted under the dark stare of his partner. Dammit, what the hell was wrong with him? She always did it to him.

Maria just rolled her eyes. She suspected as much. Reaching over she turned the frozen bag of peas on Michael’s knee and repositioned it. Frozen peas only had one use in her book, ice pack. Anything else was unthinkable. This situation’s responsibility rested with one man and one man alone.

Captain Jim Valenti.

As much as Maria adored her future stepfather and Kyle’s dad, the man was making her life a living nightmare. About a month previously he had announced to the entire Department that the Annual Law Enforcement Convention was being hosted in Hawaii, and the most productive Detective team would be the representatives of the Roswell PD for five days and four nights.

Michael had been offended because his and Max’s record was the best in the Department, but over the last year since Sean paired up with Kyle, the Detective team of DeLuca-Valenti was making major waves and their arrest record was hot. The competition began and it was creating waves of havoc all through Roswell as each team undermined and tried to steal the other's collars. Jim Valenti should have to answer to authorities for his sadistic behavior.

Maria tried to convince Michael that if he wanted to go to Hawaii they could just take a vacation, but Michael remained stubborn and firm that it was the principle of the matter, and not the actual vacation. The competition heated to an intolerable level when Sean started wearing Hawaiian shirts to work. Soon Kyle was following his partner’s lead and wearing the cheesy colorful shirts too. Michael retaliated by solving three cases in two days with maximum amount of damage and Max trying to explain the incidents to the Captain.

Maria finally got rid of the destructive team of Kyle and Sean, and saw Max off. It took some time to get Michael up the stairs to the loft and she left him soaking in a hot bath while she went to fix dinner. Watching a segment on the evening news, Maria quickly turned off the television and turned off the ringer on the phone. Amy would be calling. It was best not to even know.

Maria made a dinner tray and took it upstairs to help get Michael out of the bath. His knee was still swollen and severely discolored. Taking the opportunity, she made a few calls while he was indisposed. Maria smiled as she heard him in the other room splashing around.

Michael was a strange man. Silent and somber, he approached life with a frown and a touch of skepticism that bordered on a psychological parody. The special aspects of his personality made him standoffish and hard to understand at times, but at other times he was like an open book. Hardworking, honest, and honorable with a touch of sarcastic humor, he was always who he appeared to be and never made promises or empty gestures.

So it was times like these that made Maria smile. Whenever he was hurt and laid up in pain, he liked to be babied and so he reverted to an almost childlike manner. She would never admit it, but his quiet soulful eyes, almost pleading for attention always hit Maria in her maternal place, that dusty place that scared the living daylights out of her. Choking back a smile, she went to check on him.

“Hey, you need help getting out?”

“You could join me in here.” Maria smiled at his tone and the look in his eyes.

“Aw, detective, I’m almost positive you’re in no shape to handle me tonight.”

“Wanna bet?” Michael reached out and nabbed Maria’s hand dragging her closer to the bath until she was perched on the very edge.

“Big man. The bath is nice, but I’ll be too tired to drag your lazy carcass out of there later.” Maria reached past him and pulled the drainplug. “So why don’t you come out, eat some food, and pin me to a place where we both can pass out on afterwards.”

“Is our relationship getting stale?” Michael asked as Maria helped him out of the tub, wincing at his colorful language as he ranted against Kyle’s timely birth and the questionability of Sean’s humanity.

Maria couldn’t stop laughing. “Hardly. You, detective, keep life a laugh a minute, and twice as intriguing.”

“You’re not just saying that because you want to abuse my body?”

“Abuse your body?” Maria appeared to be giving that some thought. “Oh sure, what’s left of it.” Maria helped him into the bedroom and quickly wiped him down before pushing him backward onto the bed. Leaning over him, careful of his bum knee, Maria kissed him, and then mated her forehead to his. “Excuse me detective, but I need you to arrest someone.”

Michael’s eyes twinkled. “Who?”

“You. It appears you’ve borrowed something I consider my personal property and trashed it. Why do I lend things to you when this is the best you can do to protect it?”

“Kyle...”

“Don’t want to hear it. You know this is about the contest, and sheer obstinacy. We can afford to take the vacation without you killing yourself, Max and the others, not to mention the entire town of Roswell.” Maria leaned on her elbow and looked at him. “I saw a report on the news just now. It said that the Palisades restaurant was closed for repairs due to damage from a high-speed chase. It also mentioned a man being pushed off the building and another jumping after him.” Michael looked away quickly avoiding her eyes. “Just tell me that the wrecked car wasn’t pushed into that restaurant by you, that you didn’t help destroy the place my mom has scheduled her rehearsal dinner.”

Michael could feel the sweat gathering on his brow. “I didn’t know that the car would go that out of control when I shot out the front tire. And plus, Kyle and Sean were in hot pursuit ahead of us coming from another direction. If I didn’t bag him, they might have jumped our collar.” Michael tried to shift some of the blame. “The entire report was skewed, I'm sure. I was under pressure. Max was screeching in my ear to take it out because ‘Dick’ and ‘Dickweed’ were on the prowl.”

“Uh huh, I see.”

Michael looked at her and frowned. “Your mom doesn’t know does she?” Maria avoided his eyes and reached over to pick up the dinner tray. “Maria? Ummm, Amy doesn’t know does she? Maria?” Michael just closed his eyes and sunk back in the bed. He was really feeling bad, but not as bad as he would be once Amy DeLuca found him. This was entirely Valenti and DeLuca’s fault.

~~~

He sat looking down at the refuse pit. It was filling too fast. Soon it would be time to find a new place, a new pit. Local talent had discovered this one, and his rejects were sharing time with their kills. Every day the noises in his ears got louder and the anger grew as he watched imperfect specimens among the pure. The rage was contained beneath the smile, but his hand still trembled. It was all in the handling, the show, and the standing silent. If you chase, it ran and then capture might be impossible. But if you stood still and appeared to be harmless fading into the wallpaper, sooner or later the moth would come to you.

Every year it got harder and harder to find that perfect specimen. The entire world seemed to rejoice in imperfection and the marring of the flesh. The last one appeared perfect from afar, but at closer inspection all the flaws became apparent. The jarring inefficiency and the nasty spots made everything wrong, and this one took too much time to hunt with too much effort.

It was time to move the grounds, find a fresh killing zone. Ten years into the hobby, and everything was becoming harder and harder. Perfection seemed so far away, and every few years he had had to alter his location. But now he was settled, and this was where he was staying. Seven years in one location, one life, working hard and making perfection the hallmark of his work ethic. So much time, so much work, and finally it was all paying off.

He needed that new dumping ground soon though. This was his home. This was where he wanted to stay. Moving to new cities, new states were no longer appealing. He liked his world and his life. His only choice was to take care not to pollute the field. Anonymity left him free with his hobby for over ten years. It took him over seven years before that to perfect his skills. Seventeen years was a lot of time to work at something, and it was almost half his life. He had started young with insects and moths, but by twenty he moved to larger prey. Men.

Today, he was looking for the perfection in a wordsmith. Vocal sound, clarity of enunciation, the clipping tone of phonics performed in perfection with the added allure of a body of grace and excellence. Something young and exuberant, full of life, something to be coveted...preserved before this wreck of the world took away nature’s most excellent work.

Every year, he had to hunt younger and younger prey. The chaos was catching them, slowly drowning them into the great void of nothingness. Soon, no one would even remember what true beauty was.

~~~

“Michael! Hurry up it’s getting late.” Maria cleared away the dishes and quickly opened up Mr. Booboo’s food. He was distressed. Last night he had curled up in his favorite place on Michael’s legs and the bulk of his weight had accidentally settled on the wounded knee. The resultant bellowing and cursing sent the poor cat flying and he was only just coaxed out from behind the armoire by the promise of food and catnip. “Michael! What are you doing?” Maria rushed up the stairs and stopped beside the bed watching him struggling to get his jeans on.

“These jeans are too tight.”

“They look like they fit to me.”

“They fit fine, except when I sit or cross my leg. Then they're too tight around my knee. This is killing me.”

“Wear some looser fitting pants.” Maria quickly dug through his drawers and went into his closet to find something, anything. “Sweats. You can wear sweats.”

“I’m not wearing sweats to work. It’s either slacks or jeans.”

“Chinos?”

“Maria...”

“Cargo pants?”

“Maria...”

Dammit, Detective, just wear the damn sweats! It’s not like you’ll be out of the bullpen all day, and they’ll be easier to get in and out of at the doctor’s office.”

The words ‘doctor’s office’ had him looking at her sharply. “No way. I already told you I wasn’t going to the doctor.”

“Too bad. Rule number thirty-seven states, and I quote, 'any illness or injury that sustains over a twenty-four hour pain factor, especially with an inflammatory reaction, must and will be attended to by a medically approved medical physician, with no exceptions.'I checked you out this morning. It’s still swollen, black and blue, and hot to the touch. You can’t even bend the leg. That means doctor.”

“That rule was made for you, and you know it. Your whacked out hatred of synthetic drugs, antibiotics, and modern cures for the common cold, makes every head cold, every sniffle drag out too long.”

“You thought you were protected from this rule, but we added 'injury' when you refused to go to the doctor and walked around for three days with broken ribs and almost punctured a lung. This injury invokes the rule.”

Michael just hated it when she used his own rules against him. After a year of Maria’s new-age cures for everything, her fondness for home remedies, and her belief that antibiotics were an evil conspiracy by pharmaceutical companies, Michael finally had enacted the rule system. Neither of them was the best at taking care of themselves, and spent large amount of time worrying about the other. Between injuries and Maria’s whacked out schedule of all-nighters, they were a living nightmare. It was a good thing they lived together, because no one else would have them.

“I already called Max. He’s meeting us at the clinic, after your nine thirty appointment to take you on to work.” Michael opened his mouth to protest again, but Maria just quickly kissed him, shutting him up. “I hate to see you in so much pain.” Maria stroked his cheek. “Please?”

“Okay.” Michael leaned against her for a moment. She was managing him again, and when he thought about it later he would remember to mind. It was only fair since two weeks ago he dumped her in bed when she had spent three days consecutively grading papers, and he was tired of her lack of sleep and the emptiness of his bed.

~~~

“Dammit Maxwell, could you make this heap go a little faster?” Michael tried to rearrange his leg into a better position in the cramped front of the Departmental car they were assigned. “I’m dying here.”

“Nice knee brace.” Max commented cutting off another driver. Michael’s crappy driving skills over the years were eroding away Max’s more courteous ones. But Max had to agree; the PD car was a dog waiting for burial. “Knew Maria would get you there.”

“Shut up. When the hell do we get your car back?” Michael had trashed his truck four weeks previously in a high-speed chase, and Max was totaled out three days ago.

“We don’t. The insurance wrote it off, and get this, I still owe two large even after they payoff the bluebook value.” Max took the corner in a screeching hurry letting his anger drive him.

“Buy out the body and don’t let them total. See if Walter can do something with it.”

“Not going to happen. We screwed the struts and broke the front axle. It was a una-body so it’s totally cracked. And you know that terrible clunking noise and the dropping sound following the SUV going dead?” Michael just grunted as he tried to fit something along the side of his brace to scratch his leg. “It was the drive shaft. Gone.”

Max looked over at Michael poking at the Velcro straps on his knee brace. His language was as colorful as before. Over the past year Michael had tried to clean up his language three different times, but was on a break from the torture and enjoying all the four letter words he could think or find.

“You gotta love those high speed chases!” Michael actually smiled at Max.

Max just laughed in humor at his last car being gone. They were at an even count now, two for him, and two for Michael. Insurance companies were threatening not to cover them during work hours, and the PD Insurance carrier insisted they add extra insurance coverage.

“Gotta love the bumps and bruises. I can’t believe you totaled my car.”

“Actually it was multiple lacerations and contusions, with a possible concussion.” Michael said smugly. His injury list was climbing.

“I think some of the damn stitches the doc put in my ass are still there.” Max pulled into the PD garage. “I told you that it wouldn’t work.” Max complained.

“Hey, I told you to flash your badge, not wave your gun. Who knew a fleeing embezzler would take off in fright. I didn’t know public accountants could drive.”

“You didn’t say a damn thing about the gun, Michael. It was all, ‘show him your stuff Max, let’s take this bad boy down, and make him cry'.”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch. At least the SUV had some mileage on it. My truck only had seven thousand before we ran it off the cliff.” Michael and Max headed for the elevators. “I had to explain to Maria how the truck she bought me for my birthday was lying in flames at the bottom of a coulee system. She thinks I need a tank or some type of armored vehicle like a Hummer, but is afraid of the damage I could do to Roswell.”

They stepped into the elevator, and Max was remembering the shock on Maria’s face when she learned of the demise of Michael’s three-month-old truck. “There is that. Maybe after the Mustang is done, we can take to driving it?”

“Over my dead body. Maria and I sweated over that car for the past year. It’s almost done. Three more parts, some welding, putting the reconditioned engine back in, and a new paint job, and that honey is pure cherry.”

Max just smirked at Michael's voice. The awe, the inspiration and pure pride were nothing if not contagious. Since Michael moved in with Maria over a year ago, the two of them had been religiously refitting and conditioning Michael’s 1967 Shelby GT500 Mustang made by the Ford Corporation in Fastback style. Max watched, and occasionally was pulled in to do some of the heavy work, but the project was their baby. Maria had started rebuilding cars some four to five years previously as a sort of therapy for her grief and pain, and it had pulled the couple through some hard emotional times left in the wake of the emotionally trying murder that had introduced them.

Their new relationship had gone through tough times at the beginning. Michael was having nightmares and waking in cold sweats, which drove him into Overprotection Mode with Maria. Maria began to feel trapped and suffocated under Michael’s ever watchful domineering care. Before the murders of a year ago, Maria hadn't cried for years. She was repressed in her emotions, and given to panic attacks and stress, resulting in shock syndrome. With the sorrow and loss of the murders she finally learned to cry again, and crying released more than tears. It released anger.

The couple barely survived the turbulent first four months with Michael obsessing and Maria raging in anger. Their arguments and fights were almost as notorious as their makeup sessions. The entire Department and family watched helplessly as they struggled to find the even ground in their relationship. It took Maria involving herself in one of their high profile cases, which was both bloody and dangerous to awaken both of them. Maria realized she was overcompensating, and Michael was able to watch Maria walk through another murder investigation unscathed. It lightened their relationship, but also gave Maria a taste for meddling.

They still fought and bickered back and forth, but it was different. It had a touch of humor to it now, an intensity of passion, a fight between two people still too afraid to admit verbally to emotions too strong to ignore. In the last year neither had found a way or time to say the three magic words. Each was too afraid of the last step, too afraid to be so vulnerable. Instead they showed it in every way imaginable, short of the spoken words.

Michael had been the first to understand what was happening to them when they met. He easily gave up many of his intimacy issues to be with Maria, but he couldn’t give her the words. That last step had to begin with Maria. So, he silently waited, swallowing the words every time he felt them surfacing.

“Where do you think yesterday’s bust put us in the Hawaii pool?” Max asked as they approached their floor. Getting out, he ignored the usual flurry of activity in the Major Crimes bullpen, and headed straight for coffee.

“We’re in the butter zone, partner. That places us up six busts for the week, and it’s only three for Tweedle Dumb and Dumber.” Michael smiled his largest, cheesiest grin already mentally ordering drinks with umbrellas. Max just nodded, sipping on his coffee as they circumnavigated the bullpen to their desk, nodding at acknowledgements along the way.

It was the snarl under Michael’s breath that alerted Max to the fact that the Detective team of DeLuca and Valenti was in house.

“F-ucker.” Max said as he passed Sean, under his breath still feeling the soreness left from his once dislocated shoulder.

“Fag.” Sean countered easily not even looking up from his work.

“Takes one to know one, Pansy Boy.” Max quipped back.

“Loser.” Kyle growled at Max.

“Back off runt, and we might let you play with the big boys today,” said Michael. He balled up his fist as both Kyle and Sean stood up ready to get into it. None of them noticed the appearance of Captain Jim Valenti coming to stand in his doorway with a stack of papers clenched in his hands.

“Gentlemen! You better be getting ready to dance together.” The four men turned towards Cap and all assumed semi-innocent looks on their faces relaxing their fists and facial features.

Max started to make a smart comment, when he suddenly noticed the unnatural redness to Cap’s face, the clutching of the papers in his hand, and that very recognizable look of his when he was going to kick ass and take no prisoners. Uh oh...