the winter here's cold, and bitter
it's chilled us to the bone
we haven't seen the sun for weeks
to long too far from home
I feel just like I'm sinking
and I claw for solid ground
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
oh darkness I feel like letting go
if all of the strength and all of the courage
come and lift me from this place
I know I could love you much better than this
full of grace

“Alex?” Freddie stood in the doorway and looked at his friend. Alex was ignoring him. He was back to beating on a wall with a baseball bat. The impact of every hit, every sound, made Freddie winced. Keeley came up behind him, and Freddie just shook his head no.

“Alex, the boys are here.” Alex stopped and rubbed an arm up over his forehead and wiped the sweat away. Nodding, he dropped the bat.

Alex walked out of the room as both Freddie and Keeley moved to the side to let him pass. They entered the back breakroom. There were about fifteen men waiting, all of different ages and ethnic groups. Alex stood looking at them.

“I want all of you to hit the streets today. Every party, every rave, every underground needs to be hit, even privates. Get the word out to the bottom-feeders that I want a meet. The time is Saturday, at my place in the hills, seven-thirty.” The entire group was startled. Alex was opening up his real home for the meeting. “The owners of the places only. If they need a taxi service, tell them I’ll meet the cost.”

“Alex?” Freddie looked at the others, and then at Alex. “That’s a huge order. How underworld do you want to go?”

“Every place. The bowels itself. I’ll even take the screechers. Neo-Nazi punks, gang-bangers and snuffers on crack. Just get their bosses to my place. Tell them I’ll compensate.”

Jeremy, who was sitting quietly in the corner still holding his drumsticks, looked at Alex. The man had no light shining from him. He was a stranger to them. Alex had always had an edge, an isolated part that ruled him, but his eternal light took off the edge. But this man...this man was something else.

“What if they won’t come?”

Alex stopped looking at the ground. He had been smoking looking at his hands. The knuckles were bloody and bruised. Part of him looked at the situation distractedly, and another part of him was curious of how he had come that far so fast.

“They’ll come or I’ll burn them out and close them down. My place Saturday, is the message. You’re my messengers. Get them there.”

Alex walked away, leaving the room of silent men. Alex had more power on the streets than anyone and he didn’t make idle threats. If Alex wanted a large meet then they would come. Even those not invited or found. The word would hit the corners of the Roswell universe and they would come.

“Alex!” Freddie followed him out of the room. Alex just stopped and lit another cigarette. “What’s going down in you? You’re not...”

Alex grabbed the man, his oldest friend of a lifetime. Pushing him hard, Alex slammed him into the wall and moved close to him. Looking his friend in the eyes, unwavering, Freddie felt the fear licking up his spine as it swirled in his guts. The breaking of sweat on his lip left him dry and he needed to swallow. Alex watched him darkly as he licked his lips.

Alex calmly took his cigarette and burned a hole in his forearm in front of Freddie’s face. Freddie just swallowed his bile as he watched the skin burn and peel, and the smell of singed hair and skin reached him.

“Jesus, Alex!”

“No more. No. More.” Alex looked at his friend and rested his forehead against his. “I want this over before I lose what is left of me.”

“Alex, call Isabel.” Alex paused at his friend saying Isabel’s name.

“No. I can only use her right now, and she’s come too far for that. This is my world that’s been invaded. I want her out of it until it’s safe again.” Alex took another draw off his smoke. “It’s time to take back the night and clean the streets. Call them.” Alex walked away.

Freddie watched Alex’s back as he went back into the room where he had found him originally. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as the sound of the bat hitting the wall rang through the club. You can burn in Hell, but no one never mentioned that hell wasn’t hot. It was the burn from the cold that left the worst wounds.

~~~

Michael let himself into the loft just before noon. The first thing that hit him was the heat. Rushing into the loft, he slammed the door behind him.

“Maria! What the f-uck?”

“Hi, Detective.” Michael turned to look at Maria. She was dressed in a pair of fleece pants and one of his PD sweatshirts. Her feet were in socks and her fluffy cow mules. The loft had to be about ninety degrees.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m eating.”

Michael looked at the food littering the dining room table. That was an understatement. The large table was covered in so much food he couldn’t be certain where it all came from.

“I see that. What’s with the heat?”

“I can’t get warm so I turned it up.” Maria stood up from the table as her tea kettle whistled. Michael watched in horror as she made a large cup of hot chocolate, and then downed it without waiting for the boiling water to cool.

“Dammit, Maria! What the hell? You’ll burn yourself.” Michael quickly retrieved the cup of burning hot liquid from her and put it down. Holding her against his body he felt the tremors rushing through her. “You’re trembling.”

Maria nodded and leaned into his body as his arms came around her to hold her close. “I know. I’m freezing.” Maria looked up at him and moaned. Hooking her arm around his neck, she stood up higher to take his mouth in a kiss. Michael just groaned and returned it. She was swimming in his head, sparking his body to life. Everything about her...everything...it was too much and not enough at the same time. “I need you. I need your warmth.”

“Maria...”

Groaning, Michael scooted down and lifted Maria up to sit on the kitchen countertop, pinning her beneath him, his lips already searching for her. A warm mouth opened willingly for him, a soft tongue greeted him. He could taste the various foods she had eaten, all the flavors rushing into him. The tastes rolled into each other until Michael couldn't tell where one stopped and the next started. He rested his weight against her as he crowded between her legs, and tangled his fingers deep into the incredible sensuousness of Maria's hair, the silky strands tickling at his fingertips. With her head cupped firmly in his hands, Michael drew away from the kiss and began a gentle worship of Maria's face.

He heard the low gasp as he started sprinkling random kisses across Maria's face; first on her nose, moving to an eyelid, tracing down a cheekbone. He tasted with his lips and tongue, creating a mental map, following it to find the next spot of sweetness. A tongue brushed softly across eyelashes and elicited a soft moan, as did the lips that nuzzled at her mouth, biting her lip gently.

"Want you..." she breathed into his ear, the warm, moist breath tickling his skin.

"I want you too, Maria...to know that you're mine when you come...when I thrust in to you...when you call my name. I want you, body and soul..." Michael felt her hand unbuttoning his shirt actually hissing between his teeth as the sensation of her hands on his heated flesh hit him. He couldn’t understand it. His skin was so sensitive to her touch, so ready for it all the time.

"I'm already yours, Michael," Maria whispered breathlessly.

It was a magical spell they were weaving around themselves, combining heat and friction, and coupling it with the emotions that were laid out in the open, if yet unnamed. Vulnerable from his need and thirst of her, and lulled by the quiet deep moans coming from her throat, Michael felt an ache building inside him that had nothing to do with the physical needs of his body. He buried his face in Maria's neck, sucking hard and biting down, seeking to mark her in some way, to show ownership and thus bind them together. Maria's arms encircled him, pulling them tightly together, nearly sobbing from the mixture of pleasure and pain that Michael's mouth and teeth were creating. Michael drew back short of breaking the skin despite Maria’s pleas for him to do it.

Maria moaned her need, and he felt her mouth finding the skin of his neck as her mouth increased its suction and her tongue moved along his skin. Her teeth scraped deep grooves in his skin, but she refrained from biting. She had promised him no more blood. Maria could feel the heat emanating from the mark she'd left on Michael's neck rivaling his mark left on her. The blood had risen to the surface of the skin, causing a bright, stinging blush there. She licked it gently, hearing Michael's quiet moan.

"Mine," she stated, before delving back into Michael's mouth, her ears picking up the quiet hiss of agreement before the rest of the response was muffled by the kiss.

Michael shifted so he could strip her of her pants and footwear. He was partially holding her body as he pulled her closer to the counter’s edge and her legs circled his waist. His hands began a gentle exploration of the rest of the supple body plastered him, stroking gently down the throat and neck, moving on to shoulders and arms. He moved his hand up the sweatshirt to cover a nipple with one hand, felt the heat rising as it contracted beneath his touch, forming into a tight little bud. Maria groaned at the touch. The smell, taste and feel of her were overwhelming him again, and all he knew was the need to bury himself deep in her and feed her his body.

"Yeah..." she panted, "like that..., god, please..." Michael lifted the sweatshirt off her body, and one of his hands moved down between her legs and stroked inside.

Michael covered Maria's breast with his mouth sucking fiercely, inflamed to a higher need at her cries. Maria arched upward again groaning, her fingers brushing through Michael's hair as she searched for something to grab onto. Michael released her, running his tongue rapidly across the swollen bud, then kissing a path across to the other nipple loving the gentle rasp of his tongue taking in the soft silky skin between her breasts. The nipple was already stiff from excitement, the soft tissue engorged. Michael ran his tongue across it gently, knowing Maria was much more sensitive there. He felt her legs quiver from where they wrapped him as he suckled tenderly, tongue circling the nipple.

"Michael! ...god, please..." Maria arched into him as she found the fastening to his pants, releasing him from their confines.

"One taste, Maria..." Michael’s head was off somewhere else as the smell of her took him there. He wasn’t even aware that he had slipped inside her except from the feel of his body being welcomed home into her and her reaction.

"Oh, god..."

Michael shifted to move between Maria's legs and growled as she spread them wide for him. Maria opened herself up for Michael as her head went back leaving him lots of exposed flesh and throat. Maria groaned low and he felt the vibration spread through him. He gently covered her hands that were bruising into his flesh, felt her fingers grip him. Her tender neck was exposed to him and he lowered his head to caress it with his tongue.

"Michael...so warm. You’re so warm! I need you." Maria sobbed against him as he gently moved his tongue along her throat.

"Shhh," he stroked the arching back with one hand, his other framed her face and offered up her mouth to another kiss.

"Please, Michael...I want you..."

"I want you too, love. I want you so much all the time, it’s killing me."

He felt her tremble again, and tried to wrap his entire body around her as he stroked into her. His thumb smoothed over the swollen redness of her lip and Michael shifted his gaze to see Maria put the digit into her mouth and suck on it. His body surged at the sight, throbbing at the feel of being buried in the heat of her body.

"Want you," Michael whispered as he leaned over her, pulling her close. "Need you...you're mine, you and the baby. Mine."

Maria opened dilated eyes to stare into his. "Yours," she said in a harsh whisper.

"Maria... Oh, god, Maria..." he buried his face into her shoulder, biting down on the skin there. He felt the quiver run through her, bit again, more gently this time. A little nip with his teeth. "Say it," he commanded hoarsely. "Tell me..."

"Michael...I love you...oh...god...you're mine..."

"I love you," he moaned as he slid again into the welcoming warmth, his thrusts picking up speed and intensity. Maria groaned and arched toward him, tightening her legs around him a little further.

They leaned into each other, panting, for long minutes afterward while Michael rubbed his head into her body. Maria shifted against him and Michael moved, grimacing slightly. Picking her up, he repositioned them at the dining room table in a chair with Maria in his lap straddling him. She moved to reach behind her onto the table, and Michael laughed as she grabbed food and started munching away.

"You okay, Professor?"

"Sore, cold, and hungry," Maria muttered, eating her food and reaching for more.

"God, we should have waited. Are you all right?" Michael grimaced remembering how sick she had been earlier that morning.

"No worries. Not even a hint of nausea now. I must be fine. Besides, we needed to do that."

Michael stared at her. "Are you crazy? We've hardly done anything else over the last three to four weeks. I’m convinced I’m deranged. I should have more control, but lately..." The Michael looked at her thoughtfully. "I think we'll lay off for a little while. You’re looking tired and small. I can’t imagine feeding you more than you already eat. Sex is supposed to burn incredible amounts of energy. Maybe 'til tomorrow?"

Maria grinned. "I'm feeling pretty sated right now...I think tomorrow will be fine." Maria sucked the sauce off her fingers and looked at him with increasing interest. Leaning in, she kissed him again sinking her fingers in his hair. “But, I reserve the right to change my mind seeing how utterly delicious you look.”

“Delicious?” Michael asked with his eyebrow raising in inquiry.

“Oh hell yeah! I could suck you down, Detective, and still have room for dessert...something 'Michael' and covered in chocolate sprinkles.” Maria licked his bottom lip, and then sucked it into her mouth nipping it. Her voice became low and husky. “You know how I love chocolate sprinkles.”

Michael just snorted, as her mouth found the side of his neck. “You worship at the House of Sprinkles, especially chocolate ones.”

“I do. I so do.” Maria moved up hard against him in his lap kissing him hard and long. “Would you like me to ‘suck’ you down, Detective?” Michael couldn’t ignore the twinkle in her eyes, as the mischievous laughter threatened to escape her.

Michael just chuckled. He didn’t understand or even comprehend where she could take him when they first met. She told him that she swallowed, which at the time was something he really appreciated. But it took living with her for over a year for him to really understand what she really meant by that. Maria wasn’t some giddy schoolgirl with thoughts of how ‘erotic’ oral sex was, and who thought a head bobbing up and down in a man’s lap was ‘hot’. She had a deeper appreciation to the finer points of sensitive spots, what triggered him, and that a deep suck along the back of the throat hit that spot on his c-ock that really took him places. It was never a rush of moving up and down the length, as much as concentration on the real rush and purchase, his most sensitive spot just under the head. When Maria said she swallowed, she really meant it.

“Maria...” she just laughed. Michael found himself completely immersed in her once again. “Oh god...”

~~~

Max looked around the room at all the diners and felt horribly underdressed. Jonathan was late, so when Max arrived he was seated at Jonathan’s reserved table. Squirming a little in his seat, he couldn’t help it. The table was front and center in the middle of the restaurant, and not a quiet, out-of- the-way type of table that Max would have requested. He felt on display.

“Max? Sorry, I’m late.” Before Max could speak Jonathan reached down and left a quick soft kiss on his lips and then sat down taking his napkin. Max, who had at one time had a response, a voice...just sat there dumbfounded.

“Um..., um...I, that is...” Jonathan ignored him as a waiter took his order and whispered something in his ear. Max sat there.

“Thank you, Dom. That would be fine.” Jonathan continued to ignore Max as he ordered for the two of them.

Max was astounded. Inside him was raging a burning possessiveness, a part of him foreign to even himself. He saw things as belonging to him, his property. As of very recently, that also included Jonathan. But here was his ‘property’ exerting an independence, taking the careful control that Max needed to hold his life together. Maybe it was the fact that Jonathan’s power, influence and extreme confidence robbed Max of his control, that was the attractor. Max didn’t know, as a deep seething anger and resentment moved inside him.

Jonathan finally looked at Max and smiled to himself. “So Max, I hope you don’t mind me ordering for the two of us. I think I already mentioned that it’s a habit of mine and most people indulge me.”

Max’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure they do.”

Jonathan’s head tilted at Max’s tone and he let interest spark in his eyes. “You don’t sound so pleased.”

Max just shrugged and picked up his glass of water.

Jonathan sighed. And shook his head.

“What?” Max asked.

“You.” Jonathan waited as his drink was sat down at the table and the waiter left again.

“What about me?”

“Truthfully? You want to know?” Jonathan made it sound like Max was incapable of hearing the truth.

“Yeah. I think I do.”

“Fine.” Jonathan took a sip of his drink. “First, since we met, or at least since we started this...whatever, you’ve been indecisive and off-balance. I don’t like a wishy-washy woman, and I sure as hell am not interested in an ultra submissive fag.”

Max just looked at him, his anger rising. He was too angry to say anything.

“You’re like this pasty cutout, a cardboard caricature of the man I think I see. If it wasn’t for your job, I doubt you’d even have a backbone. I’ve been pushing your buttons for the last week, leaving you off-balance. The most decisiveness I’ve seen in you was that first night at the club when you kissed me. Ever since then I’ve been the dominant male in this...” Jonathan paused for emphasize, “ relationship .”

“I should beat the crap out of you.” Max said in a low voice.

“That would be a damn fine start!” Jonathan tossed his napkin on the table. “I’m not asking you to be the ‘woman’ in this relationship. I’m offering you an equal position. Neither dominant nor submissive, just partners.” Jonathan held up his hand when Max would have talked. “Don’t. Don’t because you’ll mess it up. Just listen.”

The servers showed up with the food, and both men were silent as their food was placed in front of them. Max picked up his fork and looked at the entrée, uncertain what it was. Taking a taste, he was shocked at the explosion of flavor in his mouth. It had a lemony taste with a touch of fire, and something else.

“Saffron and lemongrass. It’s a unique blend, but one the chef here has perfected in his Southwestern cuisine.”

“I like it.” Jonathan just nodded.

“Ask me, Max.” Max looked at the man. “Ask me what I see in you, what is attracting me?”

“Okay, what is it?”

Jonathan just smiled. “The earlier comment about not wanting you to be the ‘woman’ might be considered sexist. It is in some regards, but in truth certain stereotypes do exist. Women, literally from cradle to grave are taught in this society to be the submissive members of any relationship. Not only are they smaller, finer-boned, delicate, and soft-skinned, but they are bred with a gentleness that men aren’t allowed. A man that is too gentle is a ‘mamma’s boy’. And a man who falls hard for a woman is considered ‘whipped’ or emasculated, almost like being a brooding, hard, sarcastic loner is what makes a man.”

“I hardly think all women are submissive.” Max actually knew a few in his life that weren’t. Maria, Isabel, and Tess.

“They aren’t. Those who stand up for themselves, who try to create a real sense of self that doesn’t involve or revolve around a man, they earn a special name or regard by other women. Women are harsh, assuming and perhaps more critical than men can be. We look at women and judge them solely on appearances at the first pass, but not women. They judge on appearance, and if the other person is self-assured, confident, or in any way assertive, they are judge harshly to the point that it wouldn’t matter if that woman was the Second Coming. Women hold stereotypes. Hell, they create them. How stereotypical is it for a woman to side with poor confused belabored men against a woman whose only crime is to search for herself? Somehow they perpetuate the very idea that a woman’s place is at her man’s side, and she should be grateful for any scraps, snorts, grunts or come-ons he tosses to her.” Jonathan sat back in his seat and smiled. “Some of the biggest sexists in the world are women.”

“And this applies to my situation...how?”

“You’re perpetuating a myth as well. You’re being pulled in by this idea that a man has to be sensitive, but not too sensitive or else. A man needs to be broody and coarse to offset the softer side. But in this case, this stereotype is taken to a same sex relationship. Because I am larger, taller, more assertive or influential, you are bowing down to me, taking the role of ‘woman in distress.’ I don’t like it! Actually, I don’t want it.”

“What do you want?” Max asked quietly.

“You.” Max went silent. “I want the real you. The person inside that is only allowed out at times, mostly on the job.”

Max looked down at his plate. “I don’t know that man. He scares me. He takes from me.”

“What does he take, Max?”

Max just sighed. Why the f-uck couldn’t he just eat a damn meal with this man without it being a walk in Psychoanalysis 101?

“He takes my humanity.”

Jonathan stopped and looked at the man, Max Evans. He was an enigma, a contradiction and a carefully built construct. Max had spent years building an outer image, one that he controlled, and one that he knew. Meeting Jonathan and learning he was to be a father was blowing that outer control and calm. Good.

“Guerin is the dominant partner in your job. Why?”

Max frowned at the sudden change in subject. “Why? Because he’s special. He’s the senior partner. Some men are born to lead and some men to follow. Michael has a talent unrealized by others. He’s a walking crime lab, a library of insight, experience and information. And as far as I can tell, he was born that way. He’s driven, almost addicted to what he sees as his duty and purpose in life.”

“And that purpose is?”

“To serve and protect.”

“Who does he serve, Max?” Max thought that was obvious. Michael served the vulnerable, the helpless and the victims.

“He serves those who can’t protect themselves.”

“Yes, he does. But you’re not telling me the truth. Who does the commander serve? Who sends him out?”

Max just shook his head. He was clueless. “I don’t know.”

Jonathan sighed. “I know. That’s why you’re floundering. Why you stand indecisive and wavering. Look at your relationships. How many women have you dated or f-ucked? Half of Roswell? More than half? Is it any wonder you’re turning to men now?”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, no you don’t, and I fear you won’t for a long time. But let me help you a little. You, Max. Michael serves you .” Max stopped eating again and sat back. “Who drives the car?”

“Well, I do, but that's only because Michael is a menace to Roswell, and with him driving any car usually only has a short life expectancy and untold property damage.” Max smirked. “The Palisades are still rebuilding from a run-in with Michael.”

Jonathan just sighed and shook his head. He knew it was Guerin. The man’s feet were too f-ucking big. He was like a bull in a china shop knocking over everything in sight and actually enjoying himself.

“Uh huh. And who tells Michael, ‘Lets go break that suspect and make him cry’?”

Max actually felt heat running up his neck. He had never looked at things that way. Michael sometimes decided how their day went since he was the senior partner, but in truth, Max was the ultimate planner. When they had gone to the University that day and Maria wasn’t talking to Michael, it was Max who stopped him from going to find her and harass her. Max sat back and thought of all the times that he made the decisions, the big ones. Roswell had been his decision. The one he made for both Michael and Isabel. Pulling Michael off the streets, and changing his life. That was him again.

“You’re saying I’m a leader?”

“I’m saying that both you and Guerin are, in your own way. Your problem is trying to emulate Michael, to be the detective he is. But you can’t. It’s not you, not in your nature...your destiny. Your strength is sending Michael forth. Taking his information and what he knows, and making it into a larger decision.”

“I could make a bad choice.”

“You could...but honestly, Max, have any of your choices been good ones lately? I hate to put me in that category of mistakes, but really no one can decide that but you.” Jonathan finished his meal and pushed his plate aside. “Stop trying to organize your life into what you think it should be, and start letting the man you were born to be come out.” Jonathan sat back and concentrated intensely on Max. “Look at Guerin. He has little to no confusion in his life. He knows...knows in a way so inbred and instinctual what his destined life is to be, and its all he knows. He knows he’s a soldier, and he knows he could send men to their deaths, but he also knows that he wouldn’t order another to do what he wouldn’t do himself. His hell is that he remembers all of them, all the lost souls. Every name, every moment, and it bleeds him. His name means ‘Who is like God’, and his namesake was the Archangel Michael who was the closest to God in Heaven. Do you think God has ever forgotten a single soul? Michael is his conscience.”

“So, you’re telling me...”

“To stop. Stop ordering my life, your life, and our relationship. Stop assuming you’re the girly man, and I’m the butch. I want an equal. A strong decisive partner or even a friend. I want the man inside you that has all the answers, the man with the plan.”

“You don’t want to see me anymore?” Max frowned. That bothered him. Jonathan was like Maria. He either knew things, or saw things in a way that was clear. Max needed that. He needed a path, a way out of his darkness, and holding onto Jonathan seemed like a place to start.

“Stop being a slave to what feels good, and really learn what is good. If you walk the right path in life, it may be a hard one, but there is a comfort in the knowing. Find your path, Max. I’m not sure it includes me, but I hope it does in some form. Actually, I’m positive that you and I have a joint destiny that might someday need exploring, but until then I’m more than happy to sit back while you work your way home. I’m an expert at keeping time.” Jonathan looked at his watch and motioned for the bill. “You want me? Then you need to learn to be more assertive. I want someone who wants me equally, not with me because they can’t resist an urge or is too off-balanced to make a decision.” Jonathan stopped and signed the receipt. He watched the server walk away and looked at Max. “I’m not wanting to f-uck you, Detective.” Jonathan stood up to leave. “But I might be more than willing to let you f-uck me.” Jonathan reached down and stroked Max’s mouth before walking off.

Max, with surprising force, reached out and grabbed Jonathan’s arm in a hard unyielding grip. Jonathan’s dark unfathomable eyes sparked with a light that Max couldn’t understand.

“Saturday, at three. Pick me up for The Wedding . I’m forced to wear formalwear since I’m an usher, so you might want to dress appropriately.”

Jonathan smirked as Max released him. “Yes, dear.” And when Max looked up the man was gone. Dammit, where the hell was he going with this?

~~~

“Was Maria feeling better?” Max asked Michael when he picked him up from the Towers.

“Yeah. She’s cold a lot lately though. The loft had to be at least ninety degrees if not more, and she’s been drinking hot tea, hot chocolate, or whatever she can find nonstop. She literally ate six meals, and before I left she was so tired that she was going to take another nap. It’s like she has all this energy, and then suddenly it’s gone.”

Max frowned. Maria without energy or just tired sounded wrong. The woman redefined the word ‘hyperactive’. “How long has this been going on?”

“Just this week. She had some morning sickness before we knew what it was, but nothing like this. It’s gotten completely out of hand.” Michael frowned. “I think she coming down with the flu or something.”

“Doctor tomorrow?”

Michael nodded. “Tomorrow.”

“So you want to go beat up on a suspect?” Max asked casually remembering Jonathan’s words. He did direct them.

“Who've we got?”

“Benny was picked up with illegal goods in his trunk, but the serials match items from six large robberies. He looks like that fence man, but with a little pressure we might get Mr. Big, find the group that’s doing the crimes. It could be real payola.”

“Hmm, you want to have some fun?” Michael asked with a smirk.

Max perched his mouth and rocked on his heels. “Whatcha got in mind?”

Michael just shooed Max to silence as he looked around the room until he spied his prey. “Hanson! Get your butt over here! We’ve got an interrogation, and you’re going to do it.”

Kyle walking by stopped and looked at both Michael and Max in wonder. “Benny the Snitch is going to be interrogated by Hanson?” Both men just shrugged and nodded. “Dammit, you’ve got to let me in the action. I’ve got a fifty that says that Benny has Hanson in tears in ten minutes.”

Michael nodded. “Done. I say that both sissy boys are in tears of frustration after six minutes.”

“Hanson’s voice breaks after eight minutes knowing Michael is on the other side of the security two-way mirror, and Benny pisses his pants when Hanson tells him that Guerin said he could talk to him first, but he’ll be in if he...meaning Hanson can’t get him to fess up.” Max didn’t even try to keep the laughter out of his voice.

Waters and Philips walked by and wanted a piece of the action. Waters smirked at the goofball Hanson trying to get himself untangled from his desk dropping crap everywhere. “Sh-it, put me down for Hanson breaking down into tears in three minutes and then begging Benny the Rat for his cooperation.”

Philips dug in his wallet. “Put me down for two minutes into the interview that Hanson and Benny find a connection, something like one of them dated the sister of the other.”

On the way to the interrogation room, Max decided to give Michael’s day another thrill.

“So I asked Jonathan to be my date at Amy’s wedding.”

Michael turned and looked at his partner. Rolling his eyes, he had to question Max’s good taste. Dammit, Jonathan-I want to steal your girlfriend and partner-Stiller. What was the man thinking?

“Great, just great. Stiller? Couldn’t ya pick someone less...well just less fake?” Michael slapped Max on the back. “Sean? How about Sean? I like him.”

“Jonathan isn’t fake!” Max said indignantly. Michael just snorted. “Stop letting your out-of-control jealousy eat away at you. So what if Jonathan is more in Maria’s social group than you are...I think it’s you she's chosen.”

Michael just smirked at that. Yeah, pansy-ass, girlfriend-dominating Stiller better turn gay if he knew what was good for him. But dammit, did he have to target his confused partner? He snorted. “Jealousy? This isn’t jealousy! The man has obvious 'Michael Guerin envy'. First my girlfriend and now my partner. Is there nothing in my life that man doesn’t want?” Michael congratulated himself on being an object of envy.

“You’re such a delusional prick at times.” Max shook his head and sighed.

“Yeah so? The prick part maybe, but dammit who’s delusional?”

“You are, ya bad-haired raging buffoon.”

"Did you call me a baboon? And dammit, there’s nothing wrong with my hair!” The men kept walking toward interrogation deep in conversation. “C-ock-sucker.”

“Technically, not yet.” Max stopped at the door to the observation room. “Don’t know anything about it. Do you think I should read a book or ask someone?”

“Well, you could...” Michael stopped himself. What the hell was he saying? Maria's amazing mouth and talent came to mind, and he was on the verge of instructing Max to consult her for blowjob lessons. Proof, substantial proof, that he was losing his frickin’ mind. “Read a damn book!”

Max laughed at Michael’s expression as warring emotions ran rapidly across his face. Yeah, read a book. Suddenly Max’s expression became serious. “You okay with this turn in my life?”

“Men? You want to date men?” Michael just shook his head. “Well at least you’re showing some sense and not dating Hanson.”

“Thanks, Michael.” Max said quietly. Michael’s respect and support of him meant everything.

“No problem, Maxwell. I just want to see you happy.” Michael opened the door to Interrogation. “Does this mean I’m going to have to keep an extra close eye on you to make sure you don’t get gaybashed in the Men’s?”

“Police society isn’t really known for its tolerance.”

Michael just nodded. Yeah, he was going to have to keep a closer eye on his partner. Michael watched Hanson enter the room and start talking to Benny, the flying monkey boy. Dammit, he was so f-ucking gay! Michael started counting it out in his mind. 1. Sean: definitely bisexual with little to no hang-ups. 2. Kyle: once in an illicit wild threesome with Jack and Tess, but now eating Wheaties, the breakfast of heterosexual champions, to keep up his strength. 3. Max: contemplating a life on his hands and knees. Even chicken-sh-it Stiller was working his way into Max’s life. Damn, Michael stood in shock. He was the only last living heterosexual man in Roswell! He was a dying breed!

“Dammit, maybe you might need to keep an eye out for me? I’m starting to suspect that I and my straight lifestyle put me in the minority here. I’m starting to see fags everywhere!”

“Aww, don’t worry partner, I’ve got your back.” Max said laughing.

After the interrogation, which required both the special Guerin touch and the leading of a frustrated Hanson off towards coffee, Michael and Max headed out to check up on a lead. Max looked over suddenly at Michael as he stumbled. They were making their way out to the PD garage when suddenly Michael’s whole body seems to sink into itself.

“Michael?” Max caught his partner, holding him upright. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Max frowned at Michael's paling skin, the blanched drawn look and the coldness of the skin. “I don’t know? I’m hungry, so hungry, but also so tired...too tired. It’s cold. I feel cold.” Michael slumped even more against Max, and Max swore as he took the brunt of Michael’s weight.

“Michael, come on buddy, wake up...talk to me.”

Michael opened his eyes and looked at Max as a dawning horror hit him. It wasn’t him. “It’s Maria. She's cold. Max, she’s dying!”

Max swore and didn’t even question how Michael could know. Dragging his partner to the car, he poured Michael in and ran for the driver’s side. Hitting his lights and siren, he sped across town, avoiding collision.

Reaching over, Max slapped Michael a few times to bring him back. “Dammit, Michael, wake up! Call her! Call Maria. You said she felt sick this morning so she stayed home. Now call her!” Max swerved to miss a car that hadn’t cleared the intersection despite his emergency lights.

Michael nodded and dialed the loft. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. Michael tossed the phone on the seat next to him as they turned into the loft area, barely waiting for the car to come to a stop. Both he and Max were out of the car and running. Rushing into the loft, Michael called her name, then screamed it as he took the steps three at a time.

She was in bed, covered in blankets and her body was shivering. Frozen for what felt like a moment in time, Michael couldn’t move. It took Max’s heavy breathing and running into his back to jolt him back to action. Feeling her skin, Michael swore. She was cold--too cold.

“Ambulance. I’ll call the ambulance.”

Michael just shook his head as he gathered her close, picking her up along with the bedding. “No time. You drive, and you drive like you never drove before!” Max and Michael rushed down the stairs, past a frantic Mr. Boo crying pitifully, with another dead bird between his paws. Once in the passenger seat with Maria in his arms, Michael ran his hands over her face, pushing her hair away.

“God, baby, don’t do this to me. Maria, wake up. Maria!” Max drove as fast as he could without killing them. He called for a motorcycle escort to help clear the way, but by the time they rolled in response he would already be at the hospital. Max looked over at his partner, and his chest hollowed out at the sound of Michael murmuring to Maria. He sat clutching her to his chest calling to her over and over. It reminded him of the day Mikey died. Oh god, please!

Max pushed past ambulances and parked the car in the ambulance bay, getting out of his side and running to help Michael as attendants burst out of the ER doors. They had a gurney, and as Michael emerged to place Maria on it, they rushed her inside.

“How long has she been unconscious?”

“I don’t know. She was that way when we got to her.”

“Does she take drugs?”

“No! She’s over seven weeks pregnant, suffering severe morning sickness.” Michael couldn’t find a place for his hands. “No drugs, no caffeine...no drugs...” His voice trailed off as they pushed her into an exam room. One of the attendants tried to bar his way into the room, and with an almost animal-like snarl, he tossed the man aside.

It was Max’s hands that stopped him. “Michael! Michael, no! Let them look at her.” Max used his entire bodily strength to push Michael up against the wall next to the door, and with his hands on either side of him, he held him in place as he looked through the window at the doctors and nurses working on Maria.

“Max...Max...” Max looked at Michael struggling, the anguish in his face, and the shocking tears running down his face. “I can’t...I can’t...” Michael’s arms went around his mid-section almost like he was hollowed out.

“I know. I know, partner.” Max pulled his partner and best friend to him, and held him in his arms in a strong hug feeling the larger man crumbling. “Just hold on, hold on. She’s not going anywhere.”

It seemed like an eternity before a doctor finally emerged. People kept going into the room with equipment and monitors, but no one came out to talk to them. Michael got himself under control enough to pace and pace, and occasionally spill the cup of hot coffee the Unit Clerk gave them as Max filled out the paperwork and kept a worried eye on his partner.

When the doctor came through the doors, both men descended on him. “Are you with...” The doctor paused. He didn’t know his patient’s name since he started working on her once she entered the ER.

“Maria, yes.” Michael said crowding into the doctor. Max pulled him back to give the man room. He gestured them to follow him, and they entered what was another treatment room connected to Maria’s by a door with a glass window.

“You said she’s over seven weeks pregnant and suffering morning sickness.” Michael just nodded. “How severe are we talking? Can she hold down food at all?”

“Mornings are tough, but by evenings she's usually pretty good.”

“I’ve got a young lady that looks like a starvation victim. Her energy reserves are so low that she is below core body temperature by more than an entire degree. That’s a lot. She is having muscle spasms, including her abdomen, and if it continues she is going to abort the baby.” Michael just closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. “There’s not enough energy left for her muscles, and they are contracting and twitching. When’s the last time she ate?”

“Lunch. I had lunch with her.”

“What did she eat?” The doctor looked at Michael in wonder as he listed the huge list of foods and amounts. “She didn’t lose any of that? Vomit?”

“No. She went to take a nap, and that’s where I found her four hours later.”

“That’s impossible.” The man looked through the window in wonder at the underweight patient. She looked like she had been starving for months, and definitely not for hours.

“Doctor, Maria...is she...” Michael paused. He couldn’t ask. He was too afraid to ask.

“She’s stable, for now. I’m transferring her upstairs to the wards. If you can give me her doctor’s name, we’ll get in touch with him. I’ve got her covered in a thermal heating blanket, and we're pushing Lactated Ringers and warm saline in full force.” The doctor watched through the window as the nurses hung new lines of fluids. Maria’s foot was still twitching. “I’m going to give her a drug to relax her muscles. It’s effective and won’t harm the baby.”

Michael just nodded and Max watched him, worried at his silence. Max handed the man DocJim’s card and thanked him as he went off to make arrangements for Maria. It took almost an hour before they followed Maria upstairs. She was slowly coming awake.

“Michael, maybe you should call someone? Amy?” Max asked his silent partner as they transferred Maria into a ward bed. Michael just shook his head. Not until he talked to Maria. Max just nodded, but thought of all those DeLucas running around on an upper ward, and how it would be so easy to just slip upstairs to see Sean. Sean was scheduled for release in the morning due to sheer irritation and harassment, and someone needed to tell him. Max kept quiet and let Michael decide.

“Michael?” Michael turned to the sound of Maria’s doctor’s voice calling him. “How’s Maria?” Michael just shook his head. He had no words, just worries. Jim kindly squeezed his hands and went in to see his patient. They waited for what seemed like an eternity as Jim read the files and lab results, and looked at Maria. After conferring with other doctors, he finally came to talk to Michael. Max gave him a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder and left Michael and Jim alone.

“Michael.” Jim looked at the younger man and sighed.

“Just tell me. Tell me Maria’s going to be all right.”

Jim just nodded. “She is. She’s weak and anemic. Her blood chemistry is all over the place, but we can correct that.”

Michael looked at the man, and he felt his blood run cold. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“The baby. Michael, I don’t understand what’s going on with Maria, but I do know that she is too weak to carry this baby to term. It’s slowly killing her. She doesn’t have the energy.” Jim just closed his eyes for a moment and blew out his breath. “If the pregnancy was further along, perhaps in the last trimester, we might have options. But we don’t. Not at seven weeks. There’s no question about choosing between mother and child, because without Maria there is no child.”

“What are you saying, Jim?” Michael could feel the dread welling up inside, but whatever was necessary, whatever it took, Maria was what was important.

“We need to take the baby, perform a D&C.”

Michael just shook his head. “I don’t understand. Has Maria lost the baby?”

“No. I’m suggesting for her health that you--both of you--need to consider the possibility of aborting this child. A D&C is a standard procedure, quick, and can be done fast. It’s simply dilating the cervix and curettage of the entire endometrial cavity.”

“Simply? Simply?? ” Michael’s voice rose in anger, and Max came back hearing his partner under distress. “Simply? You’re talking about scraping out the insides of my wife, and tossing out our child! What the hell is so simple about that?” Michael ran his hands through his hair, unable to find a place for them, unable to find a stillness and calm. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply placing his hands under his arms and squeezing them tightly to his body. He needed Maria. Max made comforting noises at Michael, but nothing could ever comfort him.

“Michael, I know this is a hard decision, and one you can’t make alone.” Jim looked at Max helplessly. “I just don’t know what else to do. She almost died today. Her body temperature dropped too low, and she’s eating. She can’t eat more than she has. It makes no sense. She was a little anemic before, but perfectly healthy, and in a week's time she has dropped beyond bottom baseline. The baby...it’s hard. But I’m an OB/GYN and Maria is my patient. I’m thinking of her health. I’m saying that at this rate, she’s not carrying this child to term. Next time, we might not be able to stabilize her, and what if you hadn't made it home in time? What about next time?”

Michael dropped dejectedly in a chair and rubbed his face with his hands. What to do? What was he supposed to do? He needed her. Needed Maria to tell him. Maria would know. She always knew, and she told him. He couldn’t do it alone.

“Maria. I can’t lose her. There can be other babies, other times, but not without her. Never without her.” Max looked at his friend feeling the pain in his voice as a single tear ran down his face. “I need to talk to Maria first.”

Jim stood up and nodded. “She’s still awake.” Michael nodded and went to go into her room. “Michael, whatever you decide, just let me know.” Michael nodded and entered the room not even looking at Max. Max sat back in his chair and rubbed his face. Michael...Michael had wanted his child, his baby more than Max had wanted his. He had a slight connection to his unborn child, but nothing like Michael's to his. Max sighed and picked up the phone, dialing the number of Tess and Kyle's home.

Hearing Tess's voice at the other end, Max hesitated and then took the plunge, “Hi, Tess? It’s Max. Could we talk?”

Michael approached the bed slowly, almost afraid to wake or disturb her. Sitting down in the chair next to the bed, he watched as she turned to face him. Michael felt the need to close his eyes at the tear streaks on her face.

“Hi,” he said softly resisting the urge to close his eyes, to feel the pain.

“Hi, handsome.” Maria smiled softly at him. “So I scared you maybe a little?”

Michael just shook his head. “No, no. You scared me a whole hell-of-a-lot.” Taking her hand, he rubbed his face in it. “Maria. Maria...I’ve got to tell you...” Michael stopped as the lump in his throat was too large to swallow pass.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m okay. The baby’s okay. This was just a fluke.” Michael just shook his head against her hand.

“No. No it wasn’t.” Michael lifted his head and looked at her. “The baby is killing you.”

Maria just shook her head, and looked away. That wasn’t true.

“Maria. You...your body doesn’t have enough energy, enough power to keep both you and the baby alive. The baby went into distress, and your body tried to abort it. Naturally.”

Maria just stubbornly shook her head no. “I’ll eat more. Take time off. Rest.”

Michael just shook his head. “That’s not going to work. It’s not enough. You were cold, Maria. Your core body temperature dropped.” Michael’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I almost lost you.”

Maria sat up in bed, and Michael rushed to help her, careful of her IV lines. Sitting on the side of the bed, he looked at her as she silently cried, still shaking her head no.

“What do they want? To take my baby?” her voice shuddering heavy with tears, whispering in horror.

Michael closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on hers, nodding. “Yes.” His response was so low, she could barely hear it.

Maria tightened her grasp on him and taking his head between her hands, she made him look at her. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, both so beyond pain they couldn't even begin to express it. Since they found out about the baby, neither of them thought of anything else. It centered their world, joined them in ways unimaginable.

Maria kissed his lips softly and then said one word. “No.”

“Maria...” Michael shook his head. It was killing him, but losing her...he couldn’t.

“No, you listen to me. You listen.” Maria moved back and wiped the tears from her face. “You once made me swear... swear ...to tell you if ever there came a time that I didn’t feel cursed...that I felt graced. And I promised to tell you. Remember?”

Michael nodded. His eyes burning from the tears behind them. Don’t. God, don’t.

Maria did anyway. “Well I feel graced.” Taking his hand and placing it over her stomach, Maria looked at him. “I feel graced by you. And this baby...our baby. You and our baby make me feel graced.”

Michael leaned into her and rested his head on her shoulder. He couldn’t take any more. She held him crying too, but there was no time.

Lifting his head from her shoulder, she looked at him, her eyes becoming fierce and strong. “Don’t let them take my baby... our baby.” Michael watched her, as that spark of something else in Maria flamed to life. It was a hardness, a deep resoluteness...a knowing. That same silent cold resolve she had gotten before she risked her own life and stopped Cassie from killing him.

Taking his other hand, Maria moved it over her scar. “Protect, Michael. You promised.” Michael felt a jolt in his body, a sense of duty and what he had to do. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she looked at him trustingly.

Michael pulled away from her, and nodded. Wiping his face with the side of his arm, he reached down and put his hands around her face. Leaning down, he nuzzled her cheek, kissed the salt from her face. Protect . Michael straightened and walked to the door and locked it. He rifled the cabinets and drawers of the room until he found what he needed.

Maria watched as he walked back to her bedside and sat beside her. Michael removed the paper protection and the blade guard. He hoisted his shirt and his t-shirt over his head and then took the scalpel and cut a thin line above his left nipple. Tossing the blade across the room, he took Maria and pressed her to his chest, guiding her mouth to his blood.

“Drink. Drink, baby.” Maria didn’t hesitate or even question. She moved her mouth over his flesh, took the blood on her tongue, and in a spasm of hunger latched onto him sucking his flesh feeling the rush of power and energy. “Take all you need.” Michael said quietly feeling the draining, the emotion and the movement towards an orgasmic release.

Shifting her forward, he moved to sit on her bed more fully, and struggled to keep her drinking from him while unbuttoning his pants. Maria’s hand knocked his away as she unfastened him, released him and in a movement so fast straddled him to take him inside. Michael leaned back on the bed as they joined flesh and pulled her hard to his chest as he moved in her hotly, taking the bond between them to another place beyond the physical and the blood. Power. There was power in the blood, power in the bond. He couldn’t understand it or explain it, but as long as she fed from him...

His moans became louder and deeper as he felt the rush. It pushed Maria to move harder and take him deeper with every thrust. Moving away from his chest, she looked at him, her green eyes dark and brilliant, shining with life and energy. Michael moved his hand over her flesh reveling in the heat of life, the warmth. His hand moved down her back and neither of them saw the glowing movement along her skin. The small trickle of his blood on the corner of her mouth called to him, and he pulled her mouth to his in a deep sucking kiss followed by a rough bite to her tongue as she moaned her release.

He felt her--every inch, every molecule; and his body kept moving harder and harder into her, pushing towards release. In a flash of color and light, a rush of brilliance and pain, she quickened him as he flooded her with his seed and blood, the fluids of his body that contained his life force--a raw energy that was unique to him. Breathing hard and slowly letting his body rest, Michael held her mouth against him again as she gently licked and continued to feed from him. Running his hand up under her hair to cup the back of her neck, he liked the feel of her sweat on his skin. And as she finally finished feeding, Michael looked down at her sprawled body still joined to his and felt a connection to his child, also sated and fed. He moved his hand down her body to rest low on her stomach. He could feel his child almost like a flushing along his body, a sense of belonging. With Maria and his child both peacefully sleeping, Michael joined them wondering where the hell this was leading. Only one thought was truly clear. Protect