Part Two: The Most Beautiful of Dreams

She blinked in astonishment and gaped in confusion at what met her eyes. Instead of the ratty walls of Michael's government subsidized living room, she found herself standing in the back of an upscale reception hall. Chandeliers sparkled with soft light and all around her people she recognized mixed and mingled happily throughout the cavernous room.

Copies of her friends frolicking on the dance floor caught her attention and, by their attire, it was obvious that they were part of a wedding party. The crowd between them shifted and she gasped when she saw Maria being swung around the floor by an uncoordinated Alex.

"Oh god," she choked, raising a hand to cover her lips as tears shined in her eyes. "Alex..."

She watched her two dearest friends cavort around the dance floor for several long minutes, but she couldn't bring herself to move any closer. It wasn't really Alex. She knew that, but it soothed her heart to watch the pair of them have the opportunity they'd never get in real life, the chance to dance together on Maria's wedding day.

Wait.

She frowned thoughtfully as she realized that, like Isabel, Maria was wearing the pale ice blue of a bridesmaid's dress. She'd assumed, since this was Michael's mind, that if he was dreaming of marriage, even in light of their recent breakup, Maria would be the bride. Was it even Michael's wedding? She did a quick head count.

Maria and Alex where dancing next to Isabel and Kyle at the front of the ballroom. Max had left the dancing and was now sitting at a nearby table having an animated discussion with Jim Valenti and Amy Deluca. But where was Michael? Or her doppelganger for that matter?

She explored the room with her eyes, turning in a slow circle while she searched for the missing members of their party. Behind her was a full length window, looking out onto the darkened fields of the New Mexico desert. The clean glass surface reflected the contents of the room like a mirror and she stopped in shock and stared, stunned by what it showed her:

She was the bride.

She wondered for a moment if maybe there was some mistake; if somehow, she had stepped into another character's role when she entered the dream. But when she moved closer to study the reflection, it quickly became obvious that wasn't the case. Her mother's antique locket, a family heirloom, hung heavy against the base of her throat. White orchids twined in her hair beneath a full length veil of Spanish lace that had once belonged to her grandmother. Against the creamy silk sheath of her gown, a wedding ring gleamed brightly with diamonds and sapphires. She wondered if some strange kind of amalgamation of her and Michael's brains had created this vision; while the veil and necklace were straight out of her childhood fantasies, the gown and ring were wildly different from anything she might have imagined. She found herself surprised by how positive the difference was.

"There you are." She turned at the sound of Michael's voice, warmed by tones she'd never heard him direct at anyone but Maria before.

The dark lines of his suit, subtly different from the matching ones Kyle, Alex, and Max wore, removed the last vestige of doubt from her mind. Michael was the groom; this was their wedding. Only one question remained. Was she really who he'd imagined as the bride?!

"Michael," she began as he closed the distance between them and slid his arms around her. "It's me, Liz."

He gave her an odd look and chuckled as he nuzzled the soft waves of her hair, "Woman, if I don't know who you are by now, we've got serious problems." She stood in unresisting shock as he laced their fingers together and brought their joined hands up to his chest. The glimmering of gems on his wedding band shined in complement to hers.

"C'mon. The Wedding Nazi has decreed it's time for our first dance." A swift jerk of his head toward the stage drew her attention to the sight of Isabel, standing now with folded arms and tapping her foot impatiently. He drew her out towards the floor, and she studied the parade of friends and family applauding their progress as they passed. The sight of Max and Alex, standing side by side and clapping as she approached with her 'husband', lent the scene a particularly surreal air.

The lights around them dimmed as they reached the center of the dance floor, and a spotlight fixed itself on their position. The corners of Michael's mouth twitched at her incredulous expression when the soft crooning of Etta James singing At Last filled the room.

"Told ya we shouldn't have let my sister pick the music," he smirked as their bodies fell unconsciously into the classic slow dancing position. The smooth glide of his palm against her bare back urged her closer. He bent and pressed soft lips against her forehead as he murmured, "This is the only dance you're getting out of me, better make it good." She felt the teasing stretch of his smile grow against her skin.

She leaned back from him slightly as they swayed to the music and shook her head to clear it. "We're dreaming, Michael," she whispered as she stared up into his eyes, reminding herself why she was there and trying to convince him all in a single breath.

"Dreaming?" He said with a grin as he cupped her cheek with his palm. "Then I guess I'd better do this before we wake up, huh?"

She tilted her head in perplexity and parted her lips to say his name just in time for him to take it as an invitation to capture her mouth. The room spun around her as her eyes slid shut and she lost herself in the unexpected kiss.

When Michael's dupe had kissed her last year it had felt like an invasion; all hard teeth and groping hands. If she had ever thought about what it would be like to kiss Michael before, she might have expected it to be the same. But oh, how wrong would she have been!

Michael kissed like slow seduction, every brush of his mouth a teasing promise. The questioning sweep of his tongue against her lips found her opening to him before she could reconsider, and she moaned as that warm velvet dipped inside to stroke the inner recesses of her mouth. He was dark chocolate and bitter coffee against her palate, swirled with the hot spice of his favorite condiment even as he consumed her.

He pulled back just enough to begin painting a line of kisses across her cheek and down her throat, the tender nips against the delicate skin robbing her of all reason and logic. The room was strangely silent around them and she slowly began to realize that they were no longer surrounded by a crowd in the middle of a reception hall. The dream had shifted and she opened her eyes to find the solid warmth of Michael's body blanketing her as they rolled around on a massive bed. The feel of his strong hands caressing down the sides of her body snapped her free of her inertia. Pushing him away from her, she noticed that in the transition he'd somehow lost half his tux. Only his slacks and the crisp linen of his dress shirt, unbuttoned now to the waist, remained.

She shove against his chest to force him further back and the bare skin beneath her palms sent tingling shocks of warmth racing through her veins. He stared down at her, armed with a heavy lidded, smoky gaze and a teasing half smile she'd seen aimed her way dozens of times before. The black fire of arousal darkening his eyes transformed what she had always considered a friendly expression into something that burned; white hot tongues of flame raging in her blood as he lowered himself to claim her mouth again.

In a burst of strength she didn't know she possessed, she threw him off her and launched herself out of the bed. "MICHAEL, no!" she panted as she backed away.

He gawked up at her in surprise, "Liz, wha-"

"This is a dream," she interrupted firmly. "This is a dream and I'm waking up NOW."

The room abruptly began to twist in on itself, the colors melting together like a kaleidoscope. Back in Michael's apartment, Liz jerked herself away from his prone form with a startled yelp.

"Oh god," she moaned helplessly as the walls seemed to careen wildly around her. Dropping to her knees to help combat the nausea, she took shallow breaths while she waited for the dizziness to pass. Slowly the room began to right itself.

"Liz?" Max's query tore her attention away from the mottled carpet. Raising her head, she found herself flanked by the Evans. Her boyfriend stared down at her in concern, "What happened?"

She shook her head weakly, incapable of verbalizing what she'd experienced and particularly reluctant to share it with her present company.

"He let you in," Isabel stated flatly from her shoulder. Liz nodded feebly and the blonde continued. "He let you in and he ignored us, his family. Why would he do that?"

"I-I don't know," the shaking girl stuttered, unable to meet the other's glare.

Isabel's eyes narrowed. "Well, where is he? Did you find him? Why didn't you bring him out?"

Leveling herself off the floor, Liz took a deep breath before answering. "Yes I found him. I wasn't expecting…what I found…and I panicked. Tell me how to bring him back with me and I'll try it again."

Max slid an arm around her shoulders and tried to joke, "Nothing too horrifying in there, I hope. Who knows what horrors lurk in the mind of Michael!"

The petite brunette glared at him and slipped free of the grip. "Nothing horrifying; just surprising. I know what to expect now, so it shouldn't be a problem." Turning back to the other girl she demanded, "How do I bring him out of it?"

"Concentrate your will," the blonde alien replied. "In the dream world, things have power because we give them power. Designate a door or an archway as the portal home and it becomes what you believe it to be."

The dark haired teen nodded decisively in understanding and stepped back toward the couch. Just before her fingertips could graze Michael's temples, Isabel's voice commanded her attention, "Don't make us come in after you."

Looking up to meet the tall girl's worried gaze, she smiled reassuringly. "I won't." Her fingers brushed Michael's forehead and, in a dizzying whirl, reality faded away.


Author's Notes & Sources

1. The dress Michael envisioned Liz in is by Pronovias and is called Bosque (not that I expect him to know that). See it here: http://im1.