The first time Michael made Mia cry was definitely NOT his fault.

At age seven, Mia had a peculiar habit of following Michael around like a lost puppy. If Michael ever said he was going to the park with his friend, Felix, she'd shoot up out of her seat and urge Lilly to do the same.

If Michael ever said he wanted to watch a different movie other than the Disney one playing, she'd nod in agreement and happily allow him to switch the channel to whatever gruesome, post apocalyptic themed movie was currently on. Lilly would probably stare daggers him but if Michael was happy, so was she.

If Michael said he was tired of playing tag, she'd immediately shake her little blonde head at Lilly and hunch over with feigned exhaustion, palms on her knees and croak, "Me too."

Why she was like this, nobody knew. Some might say it was because she had a crush on him but he'd scrunch his nose and scoff. His rejection went something like: "She's two and a half years younger than me. I'm practically her older brother!" Although the other boys in his grade would snicker and taunt him for the little girl's behavior, Michael thought it was because of an incident that occurred when she was eight.

It was when Mia had hurt herself, falling painfully onto her back do to her persistent hanging upside down from the monkey bars on playground during recess. Most of the children had stayed inside on this chilly day but Mia had been waiting for days through the rainy weather to show Lilly the tricks she could do. Because of her lack of siblings, Mia relied heavily on Lilly's friendship.

Lilly had shrieked for Michael who was outside messing with another friend and a basketball. His head whipped around and dark eyes located the source of the sound of distress his sister emitted. He darted over to the two girls as quick as his legs could carry, evidently wincing when he saw Mia's scarlet elbow.

He fell to his knees besides her, gingerly reaching out to brush off any mulch near her injury. Mia seemed to be having trouble catching her breath as she wheezed out her cries. For once, Michael was thankful his parents were psychoanalysts. They had taught him something about remaining calm during situations like this, making the event more bearable. Keeping this key information in mind, Michael dropped his voice to a lower octave and whispered, "Oh God, what have you done this time, Thermopolis?"

Mia began blubbering what she was trying to do prior hurting herself but he couldn't make out much through her cries. Her grey eyes were glued on his hand that had wrapped around her small wrist. He experimentally maneuvered her arm in a couple directions to check if she was hurt anywhere else.

"Let me call the nurse," he spoke quickly, a deep frown etched onto his face once she winced at a certain tug. "She'll call your mom and—"

"Please, no," she had hiccuped, tears streaming steadily down her face while Lilly idly stood by with large, concerned eyes. "Don't tell my mom. She'll be s-so mad!"

Michael had weighed his options. No doubt Mia's mother was a lunatic when it came to her daughter and she'd detect even the smallest scratch on her. It would have been right to keep his mouth shut. Once, he had overheard her mother rattling off a list of things she should stay away from at school and not the boys who messed with girl's hearts. No, stuff like scissors and sharp art tools. He'd always privately thought Helen was an odd woman, but never vocalized it.

However, judging from the image of the blood that dripped onto the wood chips of the playground, Michael knew what the sane decision was. He sighed and turned to Lilly, who had begun to dig her foot into the mulch.

"Lil, go inside and get Mrs. Kors. Tell her Mia Thermopolis from 4-3 is hurt and she needs to come out."

"No!" Mia cried louder, jutting her lower lip out. Michael stared down at her sadly, gently swiping her wet cheek with the back of his hand without thinking. "Please Michael!"

As her best friend's older brother, he felt an odd protective attraction towards the girl. He had watched her grow since as long as he could remember; anything that hurt Mia felt like it had hurt Lilly. Granted, Lilly didn't need such his sense of chivalry as she had beat up more boys than Michael had friends, but her friend was a different story. There was no doubt about it: Mia was a certified crybaby.

"She's gotta know you were hurt," he quietly argued, helping her into an upright position. "What if you've broken something? Or torn a ligament? Huh, Thermopolis? What will you do then?"

Mia shook her small head and wiped her face messily. She didn't know what a 'ligament' was but it sounded like something dangerous enough to set her mother off. "No, no, no! I'm okay! See?"

She then proceeded to flex her arms and legs to prove herself. Except she twisted her ankle in a strange way and a distressed cry fell from her. Michael clicked his tongue disapprovingly, hiding a grimace as he nudged his head towards the buildings again.

"Lilly go," he managed to say through Mia's loud whimpering. Her little hands attempted to grasp Lilly's pants to prevent her from leaving but she was too slow and the girl already began sprinting back to the building. Mia stubbornly slapped her unscathed hand against the mulch on the playground floor, her chin touching her chest as she continued to weep soundly.

"I hate you," she said thickly. "I hate you more than anything!"

Michael sighed again, noticeably more irritated, and pretended her words didn't sting, sitting criss-crossed besides her outstretched legs. "I'm doing this for you. You're really hurt."

"No. It's not even hurting anymore," she informed him with a toss of her head.

"Then why are you crying still?" he asked a little dryly.

"Because of you! My mom is gonna yell at me and ground me because of you! She always tells me not to go on the monkey bars. You could have just helped me wrap it up. Aren't you going to be a doctor?" she childishly shot back.

A small smile broke out on Michael's face. "Guess I'm not gonna be a very good doctor, huh Thermopolis?"

Mia was quiet for a moment, her hiccups the only sound mixed with the heavy gales that made her hair look all strange. She glanced down at her bleeding elbow and then back up at him, clearly conflicted. Michael knew why. Throughout all the years he'd gotten to know her, he knew she was the type of person to suffer in silence for another one's happiness. Her mother was always her first priority, then her dad, then Lilly, and he'd be damned if he wasn't on that list. She was simply the person to encourage others, not drag them into the dirt. It was courageous really, considering most eight year olds were more like his sister.

Eventually, the silence was simply unbearable to Mia, so she turned towards him.

"Michael?" she asked in a small voice. "Did I hurt your feelings?" He opened his mouth to reply but she continued: "I didn't mean to. You're going to be a great doctor."

Michael made a face at her. "You really mean that?"

Mia nodded eagerly, her elbow already forgotten about. "Whenever I'm sick, I won't come to anyone except you."

Lilly returned with the nurse then and the girl was helped back inside the school where her mother was called. Michael and Lilly had to return back to their classrooms but not before they made sure their friend had been patched up.

Later, Helen thanked Michael for not giving into Mia's pleas. He had saved her from the chances of infection and Mia presented him with a massive appreciative grin when she arrived at school then next morning.

Sure, he made her cry; and yeah, this made her follow Michael around like a little sister but that was okay. He didn't really mind.


The second time Michael was the reason behind Mia's tears was at her tenth birthday party.

He had grudgingly accompanied his little sister, even though he groused to his mother that being twelve made him a man and he should've stopped coming to these parties way before his tween years. However, when your parents were psychoanalysts, it was difficult for at least one of them to be left home while another one tirelessly worked. Something about loving their job. How much could you actually care when your job took up more time than remaining at home with your children?

After many pleas, it was clear that he would have to attend Mia's party. Now, he didn't have a problem with Mia. She was a sweet girl who asked too many questions and followed him around but he didn't mind. But the other kids? Yeah, they were annoying. It was like being in elementary school again. He shuddered as he glanced around the living room; the little kids in a circle around the coffee table. The cake Helen Thermopolis had bought her daughter was a cute chocolate filled one with orange icing to resemble her fairly large cat and blue icing to match Mia's dress. Mia's eyes had lit up as soon as she saw her mother bring out the cake from the refrigerator and even though she denied it profusely later, he swore he'd seen tears in her large grey eyes.

Mia cut her cake and handed it out to everyone else before she had her own. The kids then turned on the T.V. and started watching whatever movie Helen had borrowed from the library. Michael paid no attention to it. He could have been home playing games on his father's computer instead of being burdened by little girls and boys screaming in excitement.

It was when Mia turned to Fat Louie and presented him with a spoon full of cake. The fat bastard licked the entire spoon full and rested his head contently on Mia's thigh. Delighted, she fed him more.

After the party, and a hefty headache later, Mia said goodbye to all her friends and then took Lilly upstairs to her room. Michael remained on the living room sofa with a frown on his face. What was he supposed to do now?

A few minutes later, Mia dashed back downstairs and with a wobbly lower lip, asked Michael to follow her upstairs. He should have snapped at her for bothering him but by the time her tears began gushing down her face, he was out of his seat. "Dr. Michael, we need you!" she whimpered through the waterworks.

The issue was with Fat Louie. With his eyes closed, he rested on his, paws up on Mia's mattress. It was a weird sight for a cat, since usually dogs slept like that, so he understood Mia's concern. Lilly had effectively busied herself with her best friend's dolls, forcing them to unwillingly wrestle each other on the ground.

Anyone could see Fat Louie was sleeping.

"He's asleep," Michael said maybe a little too harshly because Mia grimaced a little.

She shook her head. "No he is not. Fat Louie never sleeps like that."

"Maybe he's dead then," he snapped.

That did it. The girl's eyes widened as she frantically glanced at him, then her cat, and then at Lilly who had placed the dolls down. Her mouth fell open and a scream echoed off the walls. Michael hastily shut the door and placed a hand around Mia's mouth.

"Shut up!" he hissed.

"My cat is dead, my cat is dead, my cat is dead," she chanted, a muffled noise behind Michael's hand. He felt her hot tears on his knuckles before he heard her sob which only made him roll his eyes. "Mommy! My cat is dead!"

"Shut up, will you?" Michael repeated, standing up, untangling himself from Mia.

He walked to Fat Louie side and (with great difficulty) placed him in his arms. He bent down and placed the cat on his paws, letting him purr against his forearm before he stretched his limbs out.

"See? Your stupid cat is fine."

"But—" Mia blubbered, an intense sign of hurt in her trembling voice. "You said—"

"It was a joke okay? Learn how to take one, Thermopolis," he snapped once more.

Mia didn't say anything as she whipped her tears half angrily off her face. "You're so...so... mean, Michael!" she hiccuped.

Michael barely flinched. "You just can't take a joke," he replied flatly. "That's not my problem."

The girl had a heavy pout on her face and crossed arms as she fell to her knees and pressed her face flat against Fat Louie's back. She murmured back, "Fat Louie is not stupid either."

"He is too," Michael retorted.

Mia physically felt herself grow angry as she sprang back up and advanced towards the boy. She pressed her finger to his chest with one hand on her hip like she'd seen her mother do to her father once, growling, "You are the worst person I know."

Mia didn't talk to him for the next two weeks, except when she had to ask why Lilly was sick when she didn't come to school and drop off her school work, but her voice was anything like it's usual sweetness. It was hard with an edge of coldness which, although he never admitted it, hurt his feelings.

She avoided him effectively whenever he barged into Lilly's room to pester the girl's and frighten them when watching a horror film he knew they weren't allowed to watch. Mia was secretly upset he hadn't apologized, especially when she wanted to laugh whenever he made a silly joke.

Finally after an agonizing few weeks, Michael sighed and waited for Mia to trudge down the stairs when her mom came to pick her up after a sleepover. When she saw him, she pouted once more and pretended she didn't see him. Before she opened the front door, Michael broke the silence.

"Look, Thermopolis, I can't have you angry at me. Lilly's ready to jump me."

"You didn't even say sorry!" she growled back. "And you called Fat Louie stupid and your jokes suck!"

Michael blinked. "Oh. Okay, well, I'm sorry about your birthday party and, um, Fat Louie."

Mia's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure? Are you being serious?"

Michael nodded enthusiastically, refraining from releasing a sigh. "Yup."

Curtly, and evidently teasingly, she replied, "It's okay Mike," and giggled as she scampered away, knowing he detested that nickname but for once, 'Mike' wasn't even angry.


The third time Michael made Mia cry, he didn't know about it, and it wasn't completely about him.

She was a young girl at this point, barely hitting the "15" age radar, sitting on her bed, writing. Her journal entry was to be discarded later because she was already suspicious of Boris (ever since she caught him peeking into the front cover on the rare occasion he had popped outside the closet in sit besides Lilly), but she never mentioned it to him. It only meant there was more to hide from her friends, and she really couldn't take that risk at this moment.

A teardrop pierced the paper beneath her and Mia dropped her pencil in resignation, her head dropping into her hands. More tears began to flow from her eyes as her thoughts increasingly opposed her mental state. The cards were never going to work. Michael would think it was some hot girl totally pining after him and then he'd be really disappointed when he figures out it was just his little sister's dorky, princess freak.

She didn't have to tell Michael, of course but Tina had made it clear it was Mia's duty to. It was useless really, considering Kenny still existed and still told Mia he loved her everyday...and night. Sometimes he said it to her lowly in her ear at school and she wanted to die of mortification even though nobody could hear his confession.

What she was doing to Kenny wasn't right but what she was doing to herself was even worse. As if Michael Moscovitz would ever love her back! There was no endgame to this. She might as well give up now.


The fourth time Michael made Mia cry was at a park.

He had just broken the news to the girl, expecting her to be ecstatic, yet here she was on the swing, sobbing her eyes out. To say his heart hurt watching her like this was an understatement: it throbbed and burned and twisted at the sight.

He had tried to comfort her by repeating he was only doing it for them, and that he would be back. Mia had only started crying harder when he tried to explain his reasoning behind being worthy of a princess, and it should have helped. It worked in his head, but maybe he had forgotten just how difficult it was to work with his girlfriend. It always did take Mia a good few days to process things, and this was just a bombshell.

He couldn't help it. He laughed.

"It's not funny," Mia sniffled through her tears.

"It sort of is," Michael said. "I mean, you have to admit. We're a pretty pathetic pair."

Then she started bawling even harder, going on about how he'd find a geisha girl in Japan who would willingly have her way with him whenever she wanted and it was definitely his mistake for saying, "Well. Actually, now that you mention it, a geisha girl might not be so bad."

Mia hit him then. She only quit her persistent crying when Lars came over to ask if everything was okay.

She let Michael hold her hand all the way to the loft and even let herself be kissed by him, probably a little more inappropriately than necessary. It didn't matter anyways, he was going to Japan. For a year or more! Michael whispered as he held her tightly, "Are we okay?"

To which Mia weakly replied, "Yes, we're okay," even though she didn't believe they were. At least, she wasn't. Michael was going to call tomorrow and for now, that was the only thing she had to look forward to.

She then proceeded to bid him goodnight, slinked her way to her room and cried once more with the comfort of Haagen Dazs.

The final time Michael made Mia cry was on the night of her prom.

Finally alone for the first time in four years, no offense Lars, they both had one thing in their mind and no hesitation prevailed. In a hurry to remove clothing, Michael had forgotten the main piece he had to give her, something he had kept with him for the past two years in Japan, usually secretly stowed away from his friends who often snooped around in his belongings.

Mia whined lowly as Michael pulled away from her, darting out of the room, holding up one finger. "Just a second, okay, just a second." His breathing was labored thanks to the copious amounts of mouth to mouth action ever since Lars had left, leaving Michael's entire, impossibly massive loft to themselves.

Boris wouldn't be trudging in anytime soon, nor would Michael's parents or her parents or even Grandmere! Oh, this was not a good time to think about her, but what would she say? She had ditched the poor man on his prom! Well, Mia began to consider it as she sat down on Michael's bed, taking in the situation. There was no reason she should have stayed with J.P., on account of his plastic-ness. But, going home with an ex boyfriend? Mia had really done it this time.

Michael walked back inside, holding a gem in his hand. The petite snowflake glistened in his hand, clearly a little rusted thanks to the times Mia showered with it on and other properties, but a scream fell from her lips once she recognized it. Michael sat across from her, outstretching it towards her. "Here. I kept it."

Mia's fingers quickly latched onto the chain and fastened it behind her neck before she uttered a word. They both looked down where it rest on her chest, and by her quivering shoulders, Michael knew she had begun to cry. To fuel the intensity of this moment further, Michael added, "If you want, I can get you a diamond one. That one's a little old and gross. The diamond one could be a little more-"

"Thank you so much," Mia forced out, voice thick with emotion. "You're so-" she couldn't complete her sentence considering she was crying so hard but he understood her.

Her arms looped around his neck as she brought him in for a hefty kiss on his mouth. Pleased by her reaction, Michael couldn't release the girl from his grasp, opting to draw her closer instead. The sexual mood might have been lost, but there wasn't a care in the world from either person. It had been two years since he had held his girl. He was going to savor it. He rained kisses upon her wet cheeks even after she'd stopped crying, a giggle falling from her when he tickled her sides playfully before finally forcing her back against his mattress, hovering over her.

"Damn it, Thermopolis," Michael complained, leaning down for another kiss. "I love you."