AN: Follow up to Retribution; Michael makes good on his promise.

Provoke

Quickly climbing up the fire escape, he pulled himself over the wall and onto her balcony, simmering with frustrated anger as nothing had gone as he'd planned. He had searched the entire town and still couldn't find his worthless dupe to give him the beating he richly deserved for touching the girl sitting before him, quietly curled up on her lawn chair with her journal on her lap.

He'd hoped that by avoiding her all day (and pounding on Rath), it would work out some of his frustration before confronting her. But life never turned out exactly how he expected, especially when it came to the petite brunette frowning as she scribbled in her little black book furiously. Seems like he wasn't the only one in a mood. Good. Maybe he'd get the fight he been spoiling for since she had admitted kissing his twin.

Scowling as resentment bubbled in his gut, he drummed his fingers against the wall impatiently and waited for her to acknowledge his presence, his mood growing blacker as the seconds ticked away. So they were going to play that game again? He'd be damned if he was going to put up with her blatant dismissal. Clearing his throat pointedly, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the low wall.

Smirking when fiery eyes flicked up and met his briefly before looking back down, he crossed one leg over the other and pressed his lips into a thin, stony line as she scrawled the last bit of whatever she felt the need to confess. Staring at the book, he remembered when he stole it to gain an understanding of her and instead, found it full of hearts and sickening candy-coated dreams about his fearless leader. That rankled more than he let on at the time. Of course, that was before she learned that Max wasn't quite the white knight he liked to portray.

Maybe he'd have to steal it again and catch up on his reading, find out what exactly went on in Liz Parker's mind now that the rosy glow had worn off and she was faced with the very real warts of her so-called fairytale romance. Was it still filled with bubble gum pipe dreams or had her desires taken a darker turn considering her reaction to Rath's kiss?

Licking his lips, he startled when she cleared her own throat pointedly and cursed his preoccupation as it gave her the momentary upper hand. But not for long. This was his interrogation. She was the one in the wrong, not him. Quelling the temptation to grin when she squirmed uncomfortably, he kept a faintly accusatory gaze leveled on her and waited until she grew uneasy enough to break the silence first.

"So which one are you?" she asked caustically, pinning him with a chagrinned glance as she gathered up her pens and snapped her journal closed, tipping her chin defiantly in his direction.

"Can't tell the difference, Parker?" he scoffed as he cocked his head, his eyes burning with whiskey-tinted fire. Studying her contemplatively, he clenched and unclenched his fingers, the knuckles cracking under the strain as a visual of his dupe pressing her against her locker and kissing her soundly flashed through his mind. Rath couldn't hide for long, he'd eventually track him down and when he did…it wasn't going to be pretty.

"There's a difference? Same face, same body, nearly the same attitude," she needled, cocking a brow at his querulous moue, beyond irritated with moody aliens after Max's nasty, obnoxious attitude all day. Yes, she got that seeing Kyle in her bed hurt, but he had no right to quibble. Sighing, she focused on Michael and continued, hoping to get this over with so she could take a hot bath and go to bed. "How am I to know?"

"The clothes? The hair?" he growled, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth at her flippant words as anger crackled over frayed nerves. He was wise enough to realize she was just testing his limits right now, seeing how far she could push him before he snapped. And damned if it wasn't both infuriating and arousing at the same time. "The lack of tattoos and piercings?"

"You can manipulate matter," she shrugged, purposely playing dumb to irritate him further. She knew it was Michael because Rath wouldn't have bothered with the acidic banter. He was more the type to proposition her crudely and then take what he wanted when she blew him off. "And clothes are easy to change, so that tells me nothing. For all I know you could be Rath in disguise."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he bristled, an irrational stab of jealousy burning in his gut as he watched her cheeks flush slightly and confirmation lit her eyes. The hell with that. He'd be damned if that punk honed in on his territory.

"Like to get molested against my will again?" she queried, rolling her eyes as she turned back to her journal dismissively and snickered under her breath, sneering. "Hardly."

"Was it?" he grit between clenched teeth, narrowing his eyes as he pushed off the wall and crossed the balcony to quietly tower over her, raking flaming bourbon orbs over her slight, bowed form. Her lack of reaction grated his raw nerves further.

"Was it what?" she retorted, flicking him an annoyed glance, startled to find him only a few paces away and hovering over her, watching her with that intense whiskey gaze that always sent a shiver down her spine. Heart thrumming in her chest, her breath stuttered and she unconsciously pulled back. When had he moved?

"Against your will," he queried darkly, flicking brooding caramel irises over her, a flicker of satisfaction flaring inside as he watched her unconscious retreat and he stepped closer, forcing her into a distinct disadvantage.

"What's it to you?" she snapped, staring him down and smirked when he merely glared at her, refusing to rise to the bait. Snorting, she clambered out of her chair and turned on her heel, walking towards her window, tired of this pointless inquisition, responding dismissively. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes, it was against my will. Goodnight, Michael."

Quietly closing the distance between them, his hand shot out and clamped around her wrist, yanking her away from her window as he spun her around and pinned her against the brick wall just outside her room. Chest heaving with agitated breaths, he glowered at the pretty brunette and smirked when she squeaked in outrage, her own breath shallow as she threw her head back, raking a fiery glare over him.

"I'd almost believe that," he grunted breathlessly, his heart speeding up as he moved closer and invaded her space, each of his hands gently clutching a delicate wrist. Resting his head to hers briefly, he drew a deep breath and his eyes slid shut in agonized bliss as jasmine and rain teased his senses. God, her scent drove him crazy. "But I saw the way you watched him when you thought no one was looking."

"No," she denied softly, mouth running dry as he pulled back and fixed her with a gaze filled with a different kind of heat. Swallowing thickly, her breath caught, body quivering as he dropped one of her wrists and cupped her jaw, running a thumb over her trembling lips to silence her denial, molten caramel burning a line over flushed skin. Closing her eyes, she drew a shuddering breath as the soft caress shot electricity over her nerves.

"Yes," he hissed, trapping her against him and sliding his fingers under her chin, he tipped her head back, inhaling sharply as the fire in her eyes answered the question that had been plaguing him all day – she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Heart hammering, he recalled earlier taunts as his blood bubbled hotly through his veins and smirked wolfishly, issuing his challenge in a low, dangerous tone. "I know a way to prove who I am."

"What?" Her brow pinched, eyes hazy with confusion before widening apprehensively as comprehension dawned and she tried to squirm out his grasp, gasping in frustration when he kept her firmly pinned to his taut frame, sliding a thigh between her legs to pin her into wall. Her heart thudded in her ears as denim rubbed against bare skin roughly. "No, Michael, we can't."

"Really?" he taunted, breath quickening as her writhing set his senses aflame. Biting back a moan, he crushed her to him, dipping his face and pressed his nose to hers, bourbon orbs glittering, daring her to protest, to deny she wanted this so that he could prove her wrong. "Didn't stop you yesterday."

"I didn't…" she replied, her protest cut off by the press of warm, firm lips brushing against hers, stunning her into silence as a gasp tumbled out. Using it to his advantage, he deepened the kiss, delving his hands into her hair as he crushed their lips together and caressed her mouth with the tip of his tongue, pouring out all his frustrated desire in that devouring kiss. It was as passionate and demanding as Rath's, but different, softer and more possessive, addictive.

Her head swum as a connection opened between them and she was bombarded with feelings and scenes of the two of them over the two years they'd known each other – her standing up to him in the alley and his stunned admiration, him returning her journal and the longing, his arms wrapped around her when Max went missing and a sense of home.

But what surprised her were the hundreds of little moments she'd overlooked through the years – the appearance of a pretty stone when she was going through her geologist phase was no longer a mystery, the battered copy of a favorite book gone missing, the frustration of watching Max hurt her, the desire to stay away and yet the need to be close to her. Gasping as he pulled back, she stared at him in awe at the wealth of emotion he'd revealed, panting shallowly.

"So have you figured it out?" he whispered, pressing his lips to her ear, trying to quell the desire to tease the soft skin and failing. Brushing his mouth against the tender lobe, he smiled when her breath hitched softly and her throat convulsed, molten chocolate irises sliding shut at the caress. Hovering over her mouth, he slowly slid his hand over her arm and wrapped it around her waist, pressing her to him as glowing amber drifted over her upturned face lazily.

"Figured out what?" she murmured breathlessly, slowly opening her eyes and watching him with coyly through her lashes, her fingers digging into his shoulders at his assault. Flicking her gaze down to his mouth, she licked her lips nervously and gasped when she inadvertently licked the warm, soft flesh only centimeters from her own, eliciting a small groan from him as well.

"Who I am," he responded quietly, smoldering whiskey ensnaring nearly blackened, coffee eyes once more as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. Sliding his hand over her jaw to the juncture of her neck, he ran his thumb over her rapidly thrumming pulse, watching it flutter beneath his touch with rapt fascination. Meeting her gaze, he tangled his fingers in the cool silk resting on the back of her neck, pulling her up until their noses butted, their lips a whisper apart.

"Yes," she breathed against his lips, sliding her hands along his jaw to tangle in thick sandy waves, fitting soft curves to firm planes as her eyes fluttered shut, a sweet heat coursing through her veins. Purring in the back of her throat as he stroked her neck gently, she nearly whimpered with frustration when he held off, marveling the recent turn of events and admitted. "I'd know you anywhere."

"Good," he murmured, brushing his lips over hers softly before crushing her against him and pressing her into the wall, hitching a soft thigh over his hip as he sank against her body, the other hand tangling in soft strands as he molded his mouth to hers in a fiery kiss unlike anything he'd felt before. "Don't ever mistake me again, Parker."