Michael tossed the folder on the desk in front of him, and settled back in his chair, leaning back enough to put his feet up on his desk. His knee was sore and the colors were still nasty-looking, but the swelling had gone down. Michael was tired, bone tired. He needed a nap.

“Max, I’m gonna hit Holding for an hour, if you...”

“You’re gonna take another nap?” Max looked over at his lounging partner with his feet up and kicked back. Max was tired too, but Michael was napping more and more. It was strange.

“Well, think about it, Partner. I got home after midnight, then Maria and I ate sandwiches until about one, then I was called in at three thirty or so in the morning for the murder. I’m beat.” Michael didn’t mention the time in the bath or the bed, and that after it was all sliced off, he only had had about an hour of sleep.

Max yawned himself. No wonder he was moving slow. He had just read the same report twice, and Kyle was at his desk with his head down. Sean disappeared a few minutes ago towards a conference room. Max bet if they went to find him he would be sacked out on a table or on a sofa somewhere.

Michael’s voice brought him back. Max hadn’t realized he had been drifting to sleep himself. “Max, I think my ankles are swelling.”

“Michael, it’s your imagination. You need sleep. Maybe you should mention it to Cap.”

“That my ankles are swelling?” Michael asked confused.

“No, the sleep thing. They’re not getting much work out of any of us.” Max looked at Michael’s ankles and frowned. Maybe they were swelling. Maybe it was because of his knee. That didn’t make sense because then it should only be one ankle. Max groaned. They all needed sleep. He was letting Michael’s hallucinations influence him. The ankles looked fine, ugly but fine.

Michael got up quickly. Knocking on Valenti’s door, Michael waited until the voice inside called him in.

“Cap?”

“Guerin, you need something?” Jim looked from the reports, and manpower charts.

“Sleep. I think I need to release my team. We were off the Vice case late last night, and then back at the murder case at three thirty. Most of us are running on less then two hours of sleep.”

Jim looked through the door seeing his son asleep at his desk and Max nodding off in his chair. “Where is Sean?”

“Conference room.”

Jim looked at Michael and had to agree. Michael was known for staying up for days on a case, but in this instance the man looked worn. “Is your team on call this weekend?”

“No. We’re on standdown. Sean has plans in Albuquerque I believe, but otherwise the rest of us are in town.” Michael knew why the Captain wanted to know. “They can call me at home. Maria and I are working on the car, and Kyle and Max promised to help me finish the welding and put the engine back in.” So he would be home if there were any more bodies. But Michael didn’t say that aloud; it was understood.

“Almost done, huh?” Jim smiled. Even he had helped out a few times on the Mustang. It was a long ongoing project, but everyone was excited to see the final product.

“We just got confirmation on two of the final three parts. Walter said they would be in today. Maria thinks she found the last one, but she hasn’t heard back for price.” Jim nodded. Price was an issue. Michael had a small fortune sunk in that car, but luckily since he had moved in with Maria his expenses decreased. She owned the loft and he no longer paid rent, so his expenses consisted of pooling his money with hers for household bills, and buying presents for her.

“Well, release your people. Looks like they can have lunch and the afternoon off. I’ll tell Simon and Parker to flash you if anything comes back on your new case's I.D.”

“Thanks, Cap.” Michael was on his way out when Jim stopped him.

“Don’t forget Sunday dinner.” Jim decided to rub it in. “Amy is looking for you. I think she has a few things to discuss with you.”

Jim watched the color drain from Michael’s face. Only his sweet gentle Amy could have that effect on this man. “Does she know about the Palisades? I mean does she know about...me?” Jim just smiled wickedly. “Um, you know Cap, I think Maria and I might have plans for Sunday night.” Michael quickly fled.

“Chicken.” Jim called after him, laughing. He couldn’t wait until Michael saw the new color scheme, and exactly what color tux Amy wanted him to wear.

~~~

Michael parked the GTO in the staff parking lot, and headed for the doors. The two sandwiches he had picked up were mammoth. He had his eye not only on his, but also half of Maria’s. After lunch he was going to go home and take a nice long nap. Cracking his neck, he quickly went down the stairs and stopped in Maria’s office doorway.

Maria was resting her head on top of her arms, on top of a pile of papers. She looked ready for a nap herself. Michael watched as her hand came up to grab a huge cup with a straw, and watched her drink from it, making slurping noises.

“I hope that’s not all the cola you have left.” Maria looked up to see Michael waving a large sandwich bag at her.

“Food! Gimme, gimme!” Maria stood up as Michael came into her office shutting the door. She sat back down and moved her office chair back.

“Greedy.”

“Starving! Detective, feed me!”

Michael smiled. “Again?” Michael started to plant himself on the edge of her desk, but she stopped him.

“Don’t do that. The papers.” Michael looked behind where he was going to sit, and got her point. If he sat down and scooted back, all the papers would have taken a sliding leap off the other side. Michael handed Maria the bag as he went to find himself something that looked like a chair.

“I got you the Italian sub with extra meat, extra cheese, and black olives. Dressing is on the side.” Michael brought his chair next to hers and sat in the chair backwards facing her. Maria kissed his nose as she found her sandwich.

“No onions?”

“No onions.” Michael took his sandwich out of the bag and opened it on some papers on her desk.

“What's yours?” Michael guarded it from her. Maria sometimes went flaky on him and suddenly wanted his sandwich instead.

“The Supreme.” Maria just nodded. That meant meat-lots of meat.

Maria took a bite of her sandwich and looked at him. He needed sleep. “You look tired, Detective.”

“I am. I’ve got the rest of the day off to catch up on some sleep. That hour last night isn’t holding me.”

“Hmm,” Maria moved his hair back from his forehead. “I'm through after my Senior thesis class, around two thirty. I could come join you.”

“You know where to find me, just follow the snoring.” Maria definitely knew where he would be.

“I was sick this morning.” Maria mentioned casually as she pushed in two bites at once. Taking the sandwich bag she looked for napkins and chips. Oh, vinegar and salt. Two bottles of water were also in there.

“Sick?” Michael looked at her. She looked tired too, and he couldn’t believe it, but she looked thinner than usual, almost too delicate. “You okay?”

“Yeah, mom came by this morning and showed me the dress she wants me to wear to the Wedding.” Michael nodded and took another bite. That explained it. The whole Wedding thing was making him sick too.

“Bad?” Michael asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Oy!” Michael laughed at her expression.

They talked while eating, but Michael was careful not to mention his latest case. Maria had a thing about sticking her nose into his cases, and he didn’t want her near this one. She was already spread too thin, and the darkness under her eyes was bothering him.

“You look tired too, Professor.”

Maria leaned forward and kissed him gently while handing him the rest of her sandwich. She had managed to eat about three-fourths of it. “I am.” Repeating his response to her earlier. Dropping her voice to a husky whisper. “I had a hard time getting back to sleep after you left. The bed was big and lonely, and I was too horny.”

Michael’s eyes darkened. “So how’d ya get back to sleep?” His tongue came out and just touched her lip before going back into his own, she groaned and her mouth followed it, but he pulled back away from her. Placing the remainder of her sandwich on the desk, he said, “Tell me, and don’t leave out any details.”

“Pervert.”

He did it again. His tongue came out and touched her lips, outlining them so softly it was almost like a whispers touch, and then he retreated. Watching her eyes he felt them drop to his mouth as his tongue left her and hid inside, and he listened for the sound he knew well when his tongue reappeared to wet his lip. It was the gentle flushing rush of air out of her lungs, followed by a soft throaty groan, and the soft panting noise she made as her heart sped up.

“Tell me...” Michael let the words leave his mouth in a barely audible whisper and watched her move forward even more to catch them.

“I’ll show you.” She took his bottom lip into her mouth and bit it gently, while her hand took his and dragged him off his chair. Michael followed her lead letting her position him with his back to her desk, sitting on the edge while she faced him in her chair. She didn’t say a word, but just gazed at him as her hand wandered down her front, unbuttoning one button at a time slowly, with her tongue occasionally coming out to wet her lips. He leaned forward to help her, to join his mouth with hers, but he suddenly felt himself pushed back on the desk with a foot to his chest. Maria just shook her head no.

“Professor.” Michael said in that tone he didn’t realize he used only for her. It turned Professor into all those other words like honey, sweetheart, and baby.

“Uh uh,” Maria dropped her blouse on the floor beside her chair with a small scrap of lace that could be considered a bra to some. Suddenly surging to her feet, she leaned against him, her body along his. “Just watch, Detective. You like to watch don’t you?” Michael gulped hard as she wiggled against him and suddenly her skirt and panties dropped. His hands went to the soft skin of her waist as their mouths kissed, pulled apart and then returned to devour each other.

One minute he was kissing her, and the next minute she was sitting in her chair minus her clothes, with one foot on the desk next to him and the other moving up his leg to rest on his crotch, stroking his erection through his jeans. It was her hands that had him fascinated as she moved them down her body like she did last night, a clicking noise coming from her throat as she tipped her head back. Michael’s eyes tore themselves away from the sight of her touching herself to find her eyes. They were dark and dangerous, with a gleam of mischief that never failed to make his heart race out of control.

“Are you gonna make me do this all alone again , Detective?” Michael couldn’t talk, but he could move. He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands found her waist again, and he pulled her out of the chair to fall back on him. They ended up on the floor with her on top of him, and halfway under her desk.

Maria’s arm was around his neck holding him tight while her other hand quickly removed buttons and pushed at clothes and zippers. Michael had his eyes closed as he wildly returned her kiss, sucking her tongue deep into his mouth enjoying the occasional gash of teeth. His hands moved down her naked back delighting in the silkiness of her skin, so different from the rougher texture of his own, as his hands firmly grasped her ass pulling her even harder into his groin. Maria had his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, but he had to lift his hips so she could push them down. With a fishtailing motion of his legs he kicked them off, but not before banging his leg into her chair.

Maria giggled at his cusswords as she kissed the side of his neck, and her hand wandered down his body to lovingly stroke the side of his leg. Michael’s hands moved over her reverently as he continued to find her mouth again and again. His one hand found that familiar roughness at her side, the scar that ran from the side above her hip to almost midway to her navel. To the touch, it was merely a thin line of rough skin left by scar tissue, but to Michael, it was his life.

It was the scar left from a year ago when a killer’s knife almost took her from him. They were almost over before they began. Every night since, he slept with his hand over the scar, almost as if he could hide it from sight, remove the offense. He rolled over onto the floor to take the bottom directly since it was cold, shifting her completely on top of him. Pulling one of her legs up high along his ribs she straddled him. Michael bent his one leg that could still bend, placing his foot flat on the floor and giving her something on which to lean back.

Maria sat up above him and moved both her hands down his chest to his abdomen, loving the movement of the muscles responding to her touch. His one hand remained at her waist over her scar, as if he were still holding her body together, and Maria licked her lips as she took his erect penis in hand.

“Maria!” he hissed.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got it.” She leaned over him one hand guiding him inside her and the other moving to grip the edge of her desk above his head. They both groaned as their bodies joined, as she moved down on him taking in more of him with each continual thrust. Maria pounced on Michael. Her mouth was everywhere at once. Her hands couldn’t touch enough surfaces of his body. Michael's body was like a spice that Maria needed to rub over herself. She ground herself against him, taking more and more of his body into her, groaning at the heat and the hotness. She bit her way down his neck with his c-ock embedded in her, all the while whispering his name in low husky groans.

“Maria,” said Michael in a low growl. “Make it harder...aw gawd, yeah, just like that.” He loved watching her with her lip caught between her teeth moving on him like nothing else mattered but him and them, and having him-all of him. And with every moment, her hands enthused over his body touching him with strokes of reverence like she was touching something sacred.

Maria didn’t smile at him, but leaned into him to wrap her hands under his shoulders and pull him up into more of a sitting position, wrapping her leg around his center to cross behind his back. They went back to kissing passionately as her hands gripped the desk behind his head and they both panted in each other's mouth, practically sharing the same labored breath. She lost track of time as the tension in her lower body magnified and exploded around his bucking hips. She could feel him pounding in her, swelling and then hardening to the point of release, and then they both climaxed together.

Maria’s whole body went lax, and then jerked as the continual explosions erupted along her spine, and Michael murmured dirty suggestions in her ear as she squirmed in his lap making his already overheated and oversensitive body feel the remaining prickles of pleasure, pushed to the point of pain.

When Michael finally calmed down enough from the orgasmic ride and whirlwind adventure, he became aware of Maria draped over his shoulder hugging him and making purring noises against his skin. Rocking her lightly in his lap he smiled at the gasping noises she made as she moved over him where he was still embedded in her. Michael glanced up at her wall before lying back down with her on him, and then pushed her away as she protested.

“Maria, sh-it, look at the time! When was your class?”

Maria glanced at her watch and suddenly moved off him making him groan at the feel of himself sliding out of her tight channel.

“Three minutes. That can’t be right! How do we keep losing time like this?”

Maria was kneeling next to him, trying to untangle her bra from her blouse. Michael laid back down, crossing his legs with his arms pillowing his head as he watched her dress. He had an unrestricted view of the wetness between her legs, feeling unquestionably pleased that the moisture running down her lean thighs was his. Unable to resist, he reached out a hand and ran his fingers up her thigh collecting the moisture and sinking his fingers in her. Maria moaned and tightened her leg around his hand and started to move with him when she remembered where she was, and where she was supposed to be.

Slapping his hand away and frantically looking for her panties and skirt, Maria avoided his eyes. One look and she would be lost.

“Stop that! I’m gonna be late as it is, and I need to stop in the bathroom.”

Michael just relaxed, watching her and sucking their combined taste off his fingers, enjoying the sight of her nude from the waist down.

“Michael! Where’re my skirt and panties?” Maria said with a whining pleading sound to her voice trying to ignore how hot she thought he looked, all laid out before her like a banquet sucking on his fingers. He took pity on her and lifted his hips to pull out the rest of her clothes that were bunched up under the small of his back.

“Thank god!”

Suddenly there was a knock at her door. Maria’s heart stopped in panic and her eyes met Michael’s in alarm. The door opened and Maria quickly put her knee on Michael’s chest pushing him flat and keeping him there, and one hand over his mouth.

“Professor DeLuca?” Maria looked at the door, quickly resting her arm on her desk and tried to appear nonchalant blowing her messed up hair out of her eyes.

“Jennifer! Hi!”

The girl looked at her professor, all tumbled, pink, and breathless. “Are you okay? The class was wondering if you were here today.”

“Yes, I am. Um...I’m just trying to find some notes.” Michael’s hand stroked up her thigh and she pressed her knee harder to his chest. She could feel his grunt against her palm.

“What?” The girl asked confused at the grunting sound.

“Nothing. Sorry, indigestion. Could you tell the others that I’ll be there shortly. I just need to get my notes and make a quick stop at the ladies. Have them pass each other their rough drafts and read to critique.”

Maria schooled her expression, trying to keep from laughing out loud as Michael tickled her palm with his tongue. The girl looked confused, but nodded and shut the door behind her. As soon as the door closed, Maria took her hand away from his mouth and hit him on the shoulder while standing up trying to put on her skirt. Michael couldn’t stop laughing.

“The door was unlocked the entire time?”

“Oversight. Michael is my hem straight?”

“You look fine, better than fine.” Michael looked her over. She looked perfect, just like she had either been tossed around in an industrial size dryer or had nearly been f-ucked to death on the floor of her office. Perfect.

Maria leaned down and kissed him hard. “Don’t leave. I’ll be back in less than an hour than we can go home together.” Maria rubbed her nose to his. “We can pick up the Jetta later.”

“I was gonna go home and take a nap. You’ve tired me out, Professor.” She reached up and grabbed the remaining part of her sandwich and pushed it at him.

“Sleep over there.” Maria pointed to a low futon sat up against her far wall. It was where she slept when she stayed all night grading papers or working on her thesis, something she rarely did over the last year now that she lived with him.

“If we had that available, why am I freezing my bare ass off on this cold floor?”

Maria just laughed and stood up grabbing her underwear and class notes together. “Bitch, bitch, bitch. I thought you would appreciate the lunch break, Detective. Just stay, finish your sandwich, and I’ll wake you when I get back.”

Maria walked to the door and looked outside up and down the hall before turning back to him. Michael had stood up and was wandering over to the makeshift bed munching hungrily on the food, refueling.

“Psst, Michael! Put your clothes back on.” Maria whispered loudly, blowing him a kiss and was gone.

When Maria finally made it to her class, the students were all talking quietly and reading each other's papers. Going in and dropping her notes on the desk, Maria wrote the next reading assignments on the board and passed out their current research topics. It took her a few moments to realize that they were all staring at her and some were smiling.

She had brushed her hair, washed up, put on her panties and straightened her skirt in the woman’s bathroom. Catching the eye of one of the female students in the front row, the girl’s eyes dropped to her blouse suggestively. Maria looked down and noticed her blouse was buttoned wrong. Oh damn.

Putting down the chalk and papers, Maria went to the front of her desk and hopped up on it crossing her legs to the enjoyment of all the males in the room, or at least all the straight ones and a few of the females. Nonchalantly unbuttoning her blouse she pulled it from her waistband, and slowly buttoned it up correctly.

“So let's talk about the mating rituals within closed societies.” The class laughed and the noise increased as the subject and discussion hit higher levels of interest.

~~~

Sean appreciated the afternoon off. It gave him time to do the things he needed to do before leaving for Albuquerque. They would stay over Friday night, all day Saturday, and head back late Saturday night. Andy was a good guy with an understanding and shared interest for what Sean liked. They had been spot buddies for over three years in Vice. It wasn’t until this last year that they had drifted apart while Sean tried to reform.

Michael had already left saying something about a lunch date with Maria, but Sean could still feel his presence. Michael was right. It was unfair to Liz not to be honest, to hide so much of himself and only reveal parts of himself to her, parts that he felt she could like. Liz deserved better, much better than that.

Picking up the phone, he held it in his hand for a moment, then hung it up. Staring at it uncertain whether he could do it, finally he just took the plunge. Walking to the elevator with his leather jacket in hand, he went down to the criminal investigation laboratories to find Parker.

Liz was listening to her assistant, Serena talk about her date last night for the thousandth time, when suddenly she looked up to see Sean standing in the doorway watching her. Smiling, she made all the right distracted sounds to Serena and straightened.

“Sean? Are you here for the lab report on your Jane Doe?”

“You got anything ready for me, Liz?” Sean asked happy to take any offered distraction.

“Not really. We should have full reports by Monday. The weekend crew will continue to work on the analysis.” Liz frowned at his dark face, so distant from the man she knew. “Is something wrong?”

Sean’s faced cleared as he seemed to visually shake himself. “No. No, I just wanted to know what you’re doing for lunch.”

“Sandwich, and listening to details of Serena’s date.”

“If you bag the sandwich, I’ll take you out for a real meal.” Sean offered, hating himself already. He winced when she smiled a pleased, sunny smile at him. He was a bastard.

It took almost the entire meal before Liz realized that something was wrong, that Sean was somewhere else. He made all the proper comments and responses, but he wasn’t talking.

“Okay, so how about you tell me what’s going on?”

Sean looked at her, and then away. “Liz...”

Liz looked at him, and just knew. “This is a breakup isn’t it?” she said quietly.

Rubbing a hand over his face he nodded. “Yes.”

Liz just sat there looking down at her hands, uncertain what to do or say. “Why? Did I do something...”

“God! No. Not you.” Liz just rolled her eyes. Right standard answer, but how could it not be her. Sean grabbed her hand, but Liz shook it off. “Liz, it’s not you. I swear.”

“I think I need to go back to work.” Sean watched her start to stand up, but he pulled her back into her seat.

“No. Liz, are we friends?” Liz just shrugged. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? ” Liz asked back angrily forgetting her meek self for a second and releasing her anger.

“Okay, be angry. That’s good. But I’m asking you, beyond this, all of this... Are we friends? Were we just sort of boyfriend and girlfriend, dating, and sometimes sleeping together, or were we more? Is that all there was, or did we actually make a friendship?”

Liz stopped trying to pull away from him. It wasn’t about them dating-it never was, or least not at first. It was about him being there, holding her hand and listening to her. Sean saw her, anchored her, and in some ways he made her feel solid and less like a ghost. That had nothing to do with sex or dating, and a part of her that appreciated how much he gave her, recognized and admitted that it was about friendship.

“We were friends.” Sean looked at her solemnly. “Okay, we are friends.”

“Good, that’s a start.” Sean didn’t know how far to go. The waiter came and refilled their beverages and asked if they needed anything else. When Sean said no, he left their bill. “When I knew you, when I first knew you, I liked you.”

“And you don’t anymore?”

“No. I still like you, Liz. But I think I made a mistake with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

Sean just laughed at that, at the irony of it. “How could you? I don’t understand. I just know that when I met you, I liked you. And after Cassie,” Sean swore under his breath as her hand automatically went to her neck to touch the scar she wore where Cassie almost killed her. Clearing his throat, he started again. “After Cassie attacked you, and before Maria was too far gone, she begged me to sit with you, to watch over you, so you wouldn’t become more of a ghost. She said that you must never be alone.”

Liz sat listening to him in shock. He had never told her that. Not in the entire last year had he ever once mentioned that the reason he was there when she woke up was because of Maria, because Maria sent him in her place. Their whole relationship was based on pity. She was a pity date and a pity f-uck. Liz really needed to go.

“Stop that! Don’t beat up on yourself.” Sean knew he was going to do this wrong, and when that look came in her eye, he knew he was right.

“Sean, I think I need to leave.”

“Just listen, that’s all I ask. Can you for one second just listen and understand that is my f-uck up, not yours? That all that’s wrong is completely about me, and nothing about you?”

“How can it not be about me?” Liz whispered angrily. “It was all about pity!”

“Yes, it was! But you’ve got it wrong! It wasn’t pity for you. It was pity for me, and I looked at you, and I saw a way out, a light.”

Liz just started at him confused and silent.

“I sat there watching you, watching over you while you slept. Maria sent me, but I stayed because of you, and for me.” Sean had her attention again. “Liz, my life, my family, everything in my life revolves around family. I love Maria and my Aunt Amy, because they’re more than just relatives. They’re my family, my soul, the last part I have that grounds me. I made myself Maria’s protector so long ago, it consumed me, but after last year she didn’t need me.”

“Guerin, she met Guerin.” What he was saying was starting to sink in. “She found a protector, someone for life, and she didn’t need you anymore.”

“Yeah, he filled everything, took over everywhere, and it was all she needed. They would live or die together, but that equation didn’t include me any longer. And I sat there in that room watching over you, and it felt right. It felt good, because it was what I knew how to do, and you looked like a person who could use someone to protect them.”

“Sean, I don’t need a protector. I need to get rid of protectors. Everyone in my life, all my life, has been overprotective to the point of stifling me. I can’t move or live without them underfoot.” Liz looked at him with a new eye. “It was more than that, more than just you transferring me into Maria’s place wasn’t it?”

Sean looked away and nodded.

“What was it, Sean? Was it because I was scarred and no one would ever want me?”

“No! It was because I was scarred, and I failed.” Sean looked at his clenched hands. “I slept with her, Liz. More than once, and I liked it. And she was killing me while I was with her, but I couldn’t see it. It couldn’t see past what we were doing to each other, to understand the coldness in her eyes. I thought she was like me, and I made a mistake.”

“Guilt. It was guilt that made you stay with me? Guilt over Cassie?”

“No. It was a chance to be normal for once. You were picket fences and a possible walk down the aisle.” Liz was startled. She didn’t know he was looking at their relationship as something permanent and forever. “It was a dream, Liz. A dream I had. One I created to get away from the feeling of disease and being dirty that Cassie left in me.”

“I don’t understand. What killed the dream?” Liz held her breath afraid it was her, something lacking in her.

Sean laughed bitterly. “I did. I always do. There’s this darkness in me, a place that knows no light, and nothing but pain. Cassie saw it, knew what it was from the minute she met me. She knew all the buttons to push to make me close my eyes to who she was. Michael saw her and knew from the second minute he met her, but all of us convinced him otherwise, against his better instincts. I wanted it gone. I wanted that dream to cast a light so bright that all my hidden places would be revealed. I wanted that place gone, Liz. The place where Cassie reached me.” Where she still reached him even now. Liz just listened, understanding parts, but unable to really understand the rest. “I lied. I lied to you, Liz. And I lied to myself.”

“Sean...”

“No. The lie was in denying who and what I am. Those places in my soul, the dark places where no light can reach, they can’t go away just because I will them to leave. And there’re things I have to do to feel better, to just f-ucking survive. Those things can’t touch you, Liz. It’s not your world, and dragging you into it, forcing you to become part of it, just so I can feel better...” Sean just shook his head. “I won’t. What kind of a protector would that make me to drag you into my hell?”

“Sean...”

“It’s not important for you to understand, Liz. All that matters is that I understand, and that I do what’s right.” He stood up and waiting for her beside the table. “You’re out of this, Liz. As of today, you’re free to start living your life, and finding that special person who's been waiting for you all his life.”

Liz watched him walk away, and slowly she got up and followed.

~~~

Michael lay on his stomach with his head cradled on his crossed arms, groaning deeply. Maria was sitting on his hips working him over. Her soft, yet surprisingly strong hands pushed the oil across his skin as she massaged all the tension and knotted muscles, relaxing them into a mass of jelly.

They bathed when they got home, and because it was only early afternoon, the metal blinds in the upper loft were closed, encasing the room in a warm darkness that was dispelled with candle light. The smell of the burning scented candles, the low playing music from the stereo, and the warmth of her hands on his body was lulling him to sleep. He still hadn’t slept, but he was feeling better, less tired as she relaxed him and the tension fled.

“Tandoori.” She whispered in a soft husky voice teasing his ear with her lips.

“Chinese, my turn to pick.” Michael said not letting her seduce him into giving up his rights.

“Thai?” she said hopefully. Removing the weight of her body off him, she slapped his ass lightly. “Turn over so I can do the front.”

With a groan, he turned over and looked at her. God, she was so damn beautiful! Her shiny cap of blond hair framed her face, accentuating her pouty red lips and her perfect features with her green eyes vividly flashing and alive. Maria was kneeling next to his hip wearing his green silk dress shirt, held together by only two buttons, and nothing else. Picking up the massage oil she poured more into her cupped hand and let it warm, then rubbed it between her two hands she went for his bad knee, ignoring his growing erection.

“Maria, not the knee.”

“Shush, trust me. I’m just going to work out some of the soreness. Can you bend it yet?”

“Just barely, not without cussing, and it still hurts like a bitch. Rub something else and I’ll agree to Thai.”

Maria just laughed and ignored him. Placing her hands on his knee, she slowly added pressure trying not to jar the strained ligaments, moving her hands and fingers down and in, with a firm grip to soothe the sore muscles and ligaments that were strained. His knee started to loosen. It still looked bad with all the bruising, a nice display of Technicolor, but the swelling was gone. Michael moaned at her touch which didn’t actually hurt that much since the knee was actually feeling better. Suddenly she reached a hand under the knee cap and bent his leg for the first time in days and it bent without pain.

“Thai food, we can have Thai food!” Maria just giggled, and put his leg back down. She turned and straddled his hips, still ignoring his erection that was making itself known against her where she sat on him. Adding more oil she began working on his shoulders and upper chest.

“Maria.”

“Leave it alone. It’ll be there. Let me finish you. If I go there it’ll be over.” Michael just shrugged. She was right, one touch and they were going to finish something else, and they both needed food before they did anything in that direction. First the floor of her office, and then in the bath. Their food supplies were running dangerously in the negative column. Refueling was a top concern and priority.

“Thai, then. You want me to call it in?” Michael asked not really showing that much desire to move out from under her hands.

Maria just shook her head and grabbed the phone hitting the speed dial for the Thai restaurant, and holding it to her ear cradled on her shoulder.

“No, you just relax or you’ll wreck all my work.” Michael leaned back on the bed with his arms under his head, watching her work on him while placing a food order. She ordered enough to feed a small army which was good, since lately they were eating like one. The movement of her body pushing her small breasts against the loose fit of his shirt and occasionally giving him sneak peeks, was intriguing enough to occupy him to the point that he missed the moment when she hung up the phone and ambushed him.

“Want to tell me about the new case?” Michael looked at her sharply. No, no he did not.

“Nothing to tell yet, it’s still preliminary.” Flubbing her off was a good strategy.

“Michael.” She tilted her head to one side and gave him that look.

“Don’t do that.” He should have known better. The flubbing strategy never worked with Maria.

“Do what? Want to be an active part of your life?”

He was tensing up again. “Maria, we discussed this. I don’t want to bring my work home.”

“I bring mine home, and you deal.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Yes, it is. Maybe my work isn’t as dangerous or gruesome at times, but it’s still a stress in my life, and I share that with you to help me carry part of the load. Telling you makes my life easier and better.”

“Maria, I don’t want it to touch us here.”

“Okay, then tell me that even when you’re with me, your head isn’t working over the case, going over the details, the crime reports, obsessing over when your labs will come back, or what really happened. Tell me that when you walk in our door at night, that it’s just about you and me, and nothing is distracting you, that the world isn’t distracting you.”

Michael couldn’t. He didn’t lie. Clenching his jaw, he looked away from her and tried to find words to explain it away. Every single time he had a hard case she pressured him to let her in on it. Her meddling was endless, and it made him paranoid that she would be caught up in the danger.

“You're right. Part of me can’t turn it off. I need to work the details, let it process, but it doesn’t mean I’m tuning you out. I’m here for you.”

Maria just sighed, feeling his muscles tighten up. “Michael, do you know why most cop marriages and relationships fail?” Michael just went silent under her hands. Was she leaving him, finishing it? “They fail because the spouse or significant other is left out, separated from the biggest part of their partner’s life. The cop comes home and tries to block it out using drugs, alcohol, and other outlets to ease the stress while his significant watches helplessly, or they just don’t come home at all.”

“It doesn’t always happen that way.” Michael’s jaw clenched again. She was right though. That was a common scenario. Cops tried to protect the ones they loved and tended to push them away to keep them safe, to keep the stink of crime and murder separate from them.

“It happens more than it doesn’t. Everyone needs a time away from it. But cops build lasting strong bonds to their partners because they walk through the fire together, and the end equation is that only their partner really, really understands.” Maria looked at soberly. “I don’t want to lose you to a world you won’t let me understand. I can’t. And I don't want Max to understand you better than I do.”

“Maria, I just want to keep you safe and out of it.”

Maria leaned down and kissed him gently. “I’m already part of it. I always have been. If this is about your fear I’ll break down, then stop worrying. I’m stronger than that. I’ve healed.”

Michael’s hand wandered up under the shirt and touched the scar on her side. Yes, she had healed, but he wasn’t sure that he had. Some scars you couldn’t touch.

“What do you want to know?” It came down to options and reality. It wasn’t giving in, but becoming aware. His options were limited. He could deny her and take a chance that his life would create wedges between them as time went on, or he could unload and hope she was right, that she was strong enough to handle it.

“Just start with the outline, and slowly tell me what’s bothering you about the case. I’ll be your sounding board. Might as well, seeing how flat my tits are.”

“I don’t know. I thought they were looking pretty full and perky lately.” Maria slapped his hands away as they came up to hold the soft weight of her breasts.

“Man’s fantasy. Now start talking.”

Maria listened as he told her about the case, quietly asking questions that drew out more detail than he originally wanted to give. She felt an overwhelming sorrow coming from him, a sense of outrage that this unknown woman was lying on a cold slab, her life drained, and her people didn’t even know. It was the ringing of their doorbell announcing dinner that interrupted the conversation.

“You stay. I’ll go.” Maria pushed him back down as he tried to get up.

“No you don’t. Giving the delivery boy a peepshow is a great tip, but then I’ll have to kill him.” Michael grabbed her in a full wrestling hold and turned her over, slamming her onto the bed flat on her back as she laughed. Kissing her nose he was off the bed. Grabbing a pair of sweats, he ran down the stairs on his newly bending knee struggling to get them on as the bell pealed through the loft.

They sat lounging on their bed, feeding and eating Thai food as Michael continued to outline his new case. Maria listened attentively, making a few comments along the way, but for the most part just listening. After they stacked and cleared away the containers in a pile next to the bed, Maria draped herself across him and stared at the carnage.

“I can’t believe we finished that. It was almost enough for six people.” Maria turned to look at him. “Am I getting fat? Is my ass spreading and I just don’t know it?”

“Let me check it out.” Michael grabbed her and they rolled around the bed trying to get the upper hand. Finally they came to rest with Michael laying flat and Maria resting on him looking at him in a serious light.

“I had one question, something I don’t understand.”

“What’s that? How we could eat so much, and I’m still thinking about a sandwich?”

Maria hit him playfully. “You’re not! No. I was wondering about your case. Why did ‘he’ dump her? God, I’m assuming this has to be a ‘he’, but we don’t really know that. But why did he dump her?”

Michael entire body went still as the question filtered through his mind, joined with all the other aspects of his case. Why? That was a question to be answered.

“You want dessert?” Maria got up from the bed and grabbed the garbage, and Michael followed taking it from her hands. While she dug around in the kitchen he went outside and tossed out the remains of their early dinner. Looking down at the trash can, holding the lid in his hand, her question taunted him. Why? Why did he throw her away?

Michael came back inside and took a seat at the bar and watched Maria pour two large glasses of cold milk. Maria loved milk. She drank it by the gallons. He smiled to himself as she searched through the bread container and upper cabinets, his mind still processing the question of why.

“Milk, lovely milk needs...cookies, cookies, cookies. Michael, why are we out of cookies? Damn.” Maria grabbed her milk and started drinking. “Chocolate sauce, I can have chocolate sauce in my milk for brown moo.”

“We’re out of chocolate sauce. You used the last of it on me three nights ago.” Michael said distractedly.

“And damn well worth every wonderful lick. Hmm, where’s that disgusting malted milk powder? I know, the almond powder would be good. Graham crackers! I can eat those.” Michael tuned her out as he continued to think. Garbage. “Ice cream, marshmallows, and graham crackers...yum, I could use some whipped cream.”

Michael’s attention was caught. “Ice cream? What kind?”

“Pistachio.”

“Give me a spoon.”

They sat in the living room on the sofa with the television on, sharing a pint of pistachio ice cream. Michael concentrated on getting more on his spoon, because for some reason Maria was able to consume it faster without the torturous brain freeze. What the hell was with these pint things? What the hell was wrong with half gallon containers? It had to be the coldness of Vermont in the winter that made these two guys, Ben and Jerry inconsiderate of the warmer climates.

“I was just thinking that with all the care and meticulous detail taken to preserve and process the body, wouldn’t you think that shows some special intent? I mean other cultures have set rules and procedures for the processing of the dead, and the burial techniques are about as intricate. Take the Egyptians, they processed their dead for mummification, and the Peruvians practiced bundle burials.”

“What are you thinking, Maria?” Michael asked. She had that look on her face, her 'Professor face'.

Maria just shrugged and licked the remains of the ice cream from her spoon. “The same thing you’re thinking, Detective. That the dumping was wrong.”

She was right. The dumping of the body was out of character, especially after all the care that had gone into the processing. All that work had to have a purpose, a means, and then something made him dump her. Understanding the why could lead them to a motive.

“Professor, tell me about different cultural practices that remind you of this case.”

“Well the most obvious would be the Egyptians.” Michael sat back to pay attention to the lecture. “They had a detailed method for processing the internal organs. As you may know, the heyday of the Egyptian culture was over five thousand years ago. Rising out of the Sumerian influence and close association with those cultures, aspects permeated outward from the Fertile Crescent region of the Middle East. They were far removed from their nomadic tribes or early agrarian cultural ancestors who first settled the fertile regions along the Nile River. This culture had a rich superstructure with innovations and a richness in architecture, art, literature, and even religion. Their concepts of an afterlife fueled their funerary practices, and dictated an understanding of the defining parameters between life and death. If you look at the first tombs...”

~~~

The knocking at his door didn’t register at first, as Kyle moved around in his bed. Sitting up and listening, the knock came again. Tossing off the sleeping mask, he looked at his bedside clock. Six in the evening. Groaning he hurried to go answer the door. It didn’t matter what Amy said, that damn mask didn’t stop his body from knowing it was daytime.

“Tess?” Kyle scratched his stomach looking at Tess Hardy standing on his doorstep. “Um, you want to come in?”

Tess just nodded and took in his appearance. No shirt, boxers, and his hair all wild and unruly. “Hope I’m not interrupting you at a bad time?” Tess looked around the apartment for a companion that would explain Kyle’s bedhead look.

“No, I’m alone. Come on in.” Kyle moved aside to let her pass noting her pale complexion.

Tess hooked her finger in the waist band of his boxers as she passed snapping them back on him. “Boxers. I like.”

Shutting the door and searching for a shirt, Kyle looked at her critically. She looked upset, pale, and somehow fragile. “What’s going on, Tess? Are you okay?”

Tess just looked at him. “Can we talk?”