AN: I'd apologize for the long absence, but we all know (or should know) that life gets in the way, and while I'd like to do nothing but write, it doesn't work that way. Not to mention that this series is dependent on my being able to find texts that will work for the verse and characters. All I can say is, I will truly attempt to get the next drabble up faster. I did find several texts recently that I believe will work for this universe, so fingers crossed.

Four Dollar Felony

Maria yawned for what was probably the dozenth time that morning and rubbed tiredly at her eyes as she surveyed the scene before her. People were milling around, some rushing to put the finishing touches to their booths, and others lazily walking through the not quite open food and game area, hoping to beat the rush. Obviously these losers were of the 'early bird gets the worm' mentality, although just what they thought they were truly winning, she had no idea. It wasn't like there was anything here that couldn't be bought for a buck-fifty at her mother's store.

But to each their own, or something like that.

Personally, having lived here all her life, not to mention knowing real aliens, (and no they weren't green and three-feet tall with bulbous heads; they were actually quite attractive and you'd never know you were standing next to one unless you were in their special little club. But cool kids only.); she didn't see the attraction of the Crash Festival. The garish colors, the outrageous costumes, the (literaly) out-of-this-world mythology some of these people came up with...really, people wasted far too much time on it in her opinion.

Shaking her head, Maria watched as an 'alien,' dressed more like something out of an intergalactic porno, went up to a pretty teenage girl working the dunk tank, and stated he was from planet Xenopolis, and he was looking for volunteers to probe. The girl stared him down, not even twitching an eyebrow as he stood there fidgeting, growing more and more nervous as she simply didn't react; and then he slunk away, his metaphorical tail tucked firmly between his legs, before perking up as he spotted his next victim.

"Better luck next time, kid. God, and to think I once thought this event couldn't get any tackier," Maria muttered, turning away from the chaotic scene, only to be met with her red-faced and irritated best friend. Well at least she wasn't the only one feeling a bit disgruntled at being here.

"I still don't know how I got rooked into this," Liz muttered under her breath, shoving an errant strand of hair behind one ear as she lifted yet another box of supplies out of the van and carted it into the tent. Huffing, she set it down next to the other supplies, and then flashed Maria an irritated frown as she wiped her brow of the light sweat that had gathered there, griping testily. "I don't even work here anymore."

Maria suppressed a laugh, knowing full on why the other woman was there, and it had nothing to do with her actually helping with the Crash Down booth and everything to do with her boyfriend's pervy, little mind. The things she did for friendship. Michael better damn well make good on his promises for her assistance in dragging Liz here, or she was going to find a way to zap his ass, powers or not. A girl had needs; and since she'd currently hit a dry spell, that promised two-pound box of chocolate and spa day were the best kind of consolation prize.

"That's the 'blessing' of being the owner's daughter, and the boss man's kept woman, chica," Maria replied breezily, smirking at the dark look her best friend shot her. No one would ever truly call Liz a leech; the girl had worked hard for the full scholarship that she was riding. Not to mention that Michael had been paying for their house on his own long before Liz had even moved in, and he didn't seem to mind continuing in the same vein while Liz focused on school. But she couldn't resist ruffling her friend's feathers, especially after Liz's part in the flag incident. "Plus, I think it had something to do with a promise that involved silk ties, chocolate and..."

"Okay," Liz cried, drawing the word out a bit as she cast a surreptitious glance at the far-too-interested volunteers surrounding them, all just dying for some juicy tidbit to share with their friends. Even after months of dating, people were still fascinated by the idea of the school bookworm dating the class bad boy. Liz shot her a quelling glance, slicing her hand across her neck in a cutting motion, hissing under her breath. "I think that's enough of that."

Maria just snickered and turned away, wholeheartedly amused at the flush of color sweeping across her friend's cheeks, but quieted nonetheless. Shooting a glance at a particularly nosy bunch hovering by the entrance to the tent, she coolly raised a brow and watched as they scurried away to continue unloading the van. Smirking again, (and she'd been doing a lot of that today), she began counting out the money for the two remote registers they'd set up the day before, letting the hum and chatter of vendors setting up wash over her. She'd been helping with the Crash Festival for as long as she could remember, and although she didn't work at the diner anymore, when Jeff came to her, begging her to be a shift manager, she hadn't had the heart to tell him no.

After all, they were family, blood-related or not. And family helped family.

Sighing as she continued to count out the drawers, Maria startled when her phone chirped, bringing the message she'd been waiting for:

Send in the prey.

Rolling her eyes, she internally groaned at Michael's description of Liz and then quickly typed back, keeping a wary eye on the 'prey' herself; luckily she didn't really need to manufacture a reason to get Liz in the school, as she'd 'forgotten' to pick up the sign the art kids had made for their booth when she came down yesterday to oversee set up.

I can't believe you're doing this; what if you get caught.

Tapping her phone against her mouth she waited until it beeped again.

You know me; I never turn down an adventure. My life is like a sexual Lord of the Rings.

Maria huffed, just barely quelling her laughter as she glanced at Liz, who was visibly wilting under the oppressive New Mexican sun and muttering viciously under her breath that Michael owed her for this. (And wasn't that an interesting suggestion; one she was sure would be illegal in most states, if it were even viably possible.) Smacking her hand against her forehead, she let out an irritated growl.

"Oh shoot!"

"What?" Liz asked, halting her very creative string of insults and suggestions for what Michael could do to look up at Maria with a worried gaze. "What is it?"

"I forgot the price sign that the kids made for us up in the art room," Maria said, chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes darting around the tent as if trying to figure out how she was going to get the sign and get everything else done in time, before landing back on Liz imploringly. "Would you be a dear and grab that for me?"

"Maria," Liz hissed caustically, clearly a bit exasperated as she set aside the box she'd been carrying before turingturning and fixing Maria with a pointed look. "Why can't you do it?"

"I can't. I'm in the middle of getting the drawers ready." Maria gestured to the drawers she truly had been counting out, and then fixed a pout on her lips. "Please, Lizzie? Pretty please with Tabasco on top."

"Ugh, fine," Liz huffed, her gaze narrowing suspiciously even as she spun on her heel to stalk out of the tent. "Just...never call me that again."

Maria nodded emphatically, doing her best to look innocent, and waved her off, watching until she was lost in the crowd and then sent Michael a text.

She's on her way, Space Boy; try not to break her.

Oh, but we could do so many fantastic illegal things together. sexually and otherwise.

Way too much information, Space Boy.

Right, try not to commit a felony that costs more than 4 dollars cause that is all I have in my bail jar.

Slipping her phone into her back pocket, Maria hummed under breath and continued with her duties, putting the two deviants that called themselves her friends out of her mind.

Like she needed yet another reminder of her own lacking love life.

"Honestly, that girl would forget her own head if it weren't attached," Liz muttered as she stalked towards the school, swiping an impatient hand over her brow to wipe away the sweat that clung to it.

It was bad enough that she was practically slave labor, coerced into working the festival by the combined force that were her father's puppy dog eyes and Michael's pout. (Seriously, the two together should be classified as a weapon of mass destruction given the devastation they left in their wake; especially Michael's pout. That had been a level of cruelty that she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy.)

But now, she'd been talked into an errand that she was certain was nothing more than a wild goose chase at the behest of her best friend (And what was it with them all ganging up on her lately?). Maria was not as sly as she liked to think. In fact, Liz would say she was as subtle as a sledgehammer. She'd seen each and every devious look the blonde had sent her way that morning, but chose to ignore them in favor of getting the damned job done so she could get out of this God forsaken heat.

So, she'd suffered through her friend's far too obvious scheming in silence, entertaining herself with thoughts on each and every favor she intended to extract from Michael in repayment for putting up with this nonsense. (Because the Crash Festival, in her old uniform, really? She'd nipped that travesty in the bud before her father caught wind of the idea and latched onto it as a cute way to advertise. Not amused, Michael.) Besides, Liz figured that she would find out what exactly Maria was up to soon enough as the irrepressible blonde couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

But, whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't this.

Maria's excuse to get her into the school had been flimsier than tissue paper and twice as see through; it really hadn't been necessary to send Liz on an errand so mindless. Maria could have easily given the task to one of her many minions, most of whom had been standing around, gossiping with their equally mindless friends, and allowed Liz to get some real work done. It was patently obvious that Maria wanted Liz in the school, and away from the booth, at this specific moment.

She just couldn't fathom out why.

Slipping through the double doors that lead to the art and humanities rooms, Liz sighed in relief as cool air swirled around her, chilling and pebbling her overheated skin. At the very least, if she were forced to go on this pointless errand, there was this - any respite from what had been a week long heat wave was a blessing no matter Maria's end game. She'd gladly stay in here for the rest of the day if meant not sweating like a pig in a bacon factory.

And that was a lovely piece of imagery, was it not?

God, she'd been hanging around Michael and Kyle far too often lately.

Liz strode quietly down the hall, grumbling under her breath and tugged at one of the straps to her halter, lifting it off her neck, allowing the sweat-kissed skin beneath it to breathe and hopefully dry. She really wished she had the courage to walk straight through the building and keep heading straight onout to the parking lot and into her car and then finally home. Honestly, she could think of about a million things she'd rather being doing, including, but not limited to, getting a root canal.

She'd never signed up for this.

But...but that would leave Michael to his own devices, and the customers at the mercy of his oh-so-charming nature. And that would lead to bad things all around. There was a reason her father had requested her presence - while Michael was an amazing cook, an absolute genius when it came to the grill, his customer service skills were...lacking to put it mildly. Left on his own, or worse with just Maria (who was far too good at pressing his buttons)...well the less said on that matter the better. Just note that Michael and giggling, babbling, bubbly teenagers just did not mesh well and it was far better for everyone involved that she handled the customer service side.

Rubbing at the back of her neck, Liz dropped the strap and turned down a long, dimly lit corridor, and then squeaked (something she'd adamantly deny at a later date) when a hand shot out of nowhere, grabbed her firmly around the wrist and dragged into a closet, plunging her into darkness.

"What the hell," she huffed in irritation, wrenching her arm away from her captor and scrambled for the door, only to have it slam closed in her face, trapping her in the closet with whatever joker had pulled her in. Growling under her breath, she scampered away, tripping over chairs and tables and other things she couldn't see, in an effort to put distance between her and her captor until her eyes adjusted to the low light.

Leaning against a table behind a stack of boxes, Liz drew a deep breath and held it, slowing her rapidly beating heart in order to hear who was scuffling through the room in pursuit of her. She couldn't feel anything off about the person, and her enhanced senses (all thanks to Max's healing) would have let her know if the other person had evil intent. But at the same time, she could also tell they were actively blocking her, and that didn't bode well; as while there was a very limited number of people aware of her abilities, not all of them were friendly.

Blinking rapidly, wishing her pupils would dilate faster, Liz peeked around the corner of said boxes and narrowed her blurry eyes, sighing again as she finally made out a familiar profile; but this time it was the sigh of a long-suffering girlfriend.

"Michael," she frowned, and crossing her arms over her chest, she slipped out into the open and stared the smirking man in front of her down. "I should have known. This little adventure had your fingerprints all over it. Do I even want to know?"

Michael merely smiled; that sharp, wicked thing grin that had things she'd rather not mention clenching low in her belly, and sent her heart thrumming staccato against her breast in anticipation as he sauntered towards her. Licking her lips nervously, Liz fidgeted under that enigmatic gaze, her mouth running dry as it always did when faced with her boyfriend's effortless, fluid sensuality; which just made those things she didn't want to think of heat and purr in contentment as he drew near.

Didn't he have any idea how he was affecting her?

And then his smile grew and Liz huffed at her own inane question. What had she been thinking; of course he knew.

A thought that was only confirmed by the unbearably smug expression that graced said boyfriend's face when her breath hitched and shook as she exhaled. Narrowing her gaze further, Liz drew herself up, not about to be intimidated by whatever game Michael was playing, and arched a brow pointedly, completely ignoring his low chuckle at her fronting.

Yeah, the smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

"Well," she prompted, growing impatient with the silence stretching between them.

"I'd be quiet if I were you, Parker," Michael smirked, making her frown deepen. There was something off in his tone. Something that had her pausing, and reminded her all too well of the caustic, guarded boy she'd first met. Before they'd grown to respect one another. Before they'd become friends. Before they'd fallen in love and became each other's everything.

Drawing back a touch, Liz studied Michael's face, a suspicious light growing in her eyes.

"After all, we wouldn't want the whole school to hear."

Okay, she hadn't expected that.

"The whole school," Liz stated flatly, knowing full well that the school was empty given it was Saturday, and those few that were here, were out on the athletic field setting up for the festival and getting ready for the opening ceremonies.

"Of course," Michael replied, a bit too gleefully for Liz's taste, and then shot her a wicked grin that she felt all the way down to her toes. "Little Lizzie Parker, all alone in the Eraser Room with the town delinquent. What ever will they think?"

So, that was his game.

"Deviant," she laughed huskily, her stomach jolting with lust as he drew near, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

They had discussed this once or twice; roleplaying that is, but they'd never gotten past just that - a discusiondiscussion of their fantasies. She really should have expected this however, as Michael seemed to have more than his fair share of fantasies of her high school self.

And she got it; she really did.

He'd genuinely loved Maria, and wouldn't have even considered doing anything that would've jeopordizedjeopardized their relationship; but at the end of the day, he had been a teenage boy with more hormones than sense, and she had been the epitome of the good, little schoolgirl that every boy wanted to defile in his mind.

Not that it had been true in the least; but she got that reality and fantasy didn't really match, with fantasy often winning out over the mundane truth.

"This surprises you?" Michael replied, a cheeky grin flashing across his face for a brief moment before it slid into something a touch more predatory.

"Not at all," Liz replied just as flipantlyflippantly, and then gave a mocking sniff. "Just reaffirming an irrefutable truth."

"It's too bad you aren't wearing one of those prim little skirts you favored in high school," Michael purred, one hand palming her bare thigh and sliding up it slowly as he flicked an appreciative glance over her halter-and-shorts-clad frame, sending a shiver tingling down her spine. "I spent many a class period imagining you in here, your skirt bunched up at your waist as I ripped off your pretty little panties."

Liz gave a stuttering breath, inhaling sharply at the words, murmured in a low, dark rasp against her ear as Michael crowded her, bringing the faint scent of wood and spice and something vaguely citrusy with them. Groaning internally, her lashes fluttered shut and her heart jumped as an arm snaked out and cinched around her waist, dragging her further against the hard line of his body.

God, she loved when he got this way; all possesivepossessive and predatory. It was enough to make her weak-kneed and slick in a place best not mentioned.

"I'll bet they were cotton, weren't they?" Michael continued, teasing the line of her jaw with his lips, his hand sliding further up her thigh, fingering the frayed edge of her faded jean shorts before sliding under it as he pressed her into the stack of boxes she'd been hiding behind. "Plain, every day, white cotton, to go with your prim little skirts."

Liz gasped as fingers played with the hem, tracing the soft skin beneath them and then bit her lip, desperately fighting the urge to do unspeakable things to the man in front of her. It wouldn't do to give in too soon, as she was certain some of the fantasy was in her putting up at least a token fight. Narrowing her gaze at the taunt, she opened her mouth to retort when one deft finger slipped up, tracing the edge of her panties, and then her mind short-circuited, her breath leaving her lungs in a rush as Michael's lips crashed against hers.

Unfair.

Michael's lips curled, the smirk pasted on them deepening at that plaintive accusation; one he was certain he wasn't meant to hear, and mumbled against his mouth just before he cut off any other response Liz could make. He knew that if he let her overthink it, she'd get nervous with their far too public venue, which is why he didn't give her time to process or protest beyond that one whispered complaint.

Sinking one hand into her hair, he gave a gentle tug (something he knew she secretly loved), pulling her head back for better access to her mouth and neck and loved the little gasp of surprise that spilled out as he continued to nip and tease and taunt, promising wickedness and sin if she just gave in. Which she would; it was inevitable.

Tracing her bottom lip, Michael snaked his tongue past it, and curled it around hers, stroking, and teasing her mouth with deep, slick thrusts that left them both breathless; ones that unconsciously mimicked an act he'd rather be doing, but figured she wouldn't allow.

Not that it'd stop him from trying.

Crushing her closer, he made to move somewhere more comfortable, and then startled and stumbled as his foot caught on the leg of something, inadvertantlyinadvertently pressing them deeper into the boxes, creating a shelf as the boxes edged back, and bringing their hips into proper alignementalignment. That worked. Grinning, he buried his hips into the cradle of her body, rolling them slightly and groaned internally as her body arched, grinding against him helplessly.

He so loved when she was uninhibited.

Hissing as denim scraped harshly against denim, creating a friction that was equal parts pain and pleasure, Michael ripped his mouth from hers, to nip at her the curve of her neck. Sinking his teeth into the flesh above her pulse, his head swam, leaving him feeling a touch giddy and faint as his hands slid over her body, molding and shaping soft, pliant skin, drawing a that dazed look, hazy with a lust that left him aching, and smug.

All in all, he was feeling rather smug pleased with himself.

That is, until she shook her head, clearing it, her gaze narrowed and sharp, and he just knew she was going to get sassy with him.

"Is that it?" Liz drawled, pinning him a decidedly unimpressed look, although he could see a hint of laughter lurking in her eyes. Narrowing his, he arched one brow and studied her upturned face, just waiting for it. "So far, you've been nothing but talk, Guerin. What would your mindless fans say if they knew you couldn't deliver..."

And there it was.

"Really?" Michael deadpanned, giving his fianceefiancée an equally unimpressed look, but he couldn't hide his own humor at her words. When he was younger, a comment like that would've had him scowling and pinning her to the nearest surface and...wait why wasn't he pinning her to the nearest surface? Wasn't that part of the plan?

"You go for the obvious low blow?" he continued, watching her skeptically.

"I'm not the one still flapping his lips," Liz smirked, looking far too smug frofor someone in her predicament. "So far all I've gotten is big talk and no action. I'm...diappointeddisappointed."

So, that's how she wanted to play it? He was game.

"I'll show you all talk..." Michael muttered and then grabbed her around the hips, hitching Liz up his body so suddenly that she squeaked and flailed, scrabbling for hold until she managed to latch onto his shoulders as he spun them and roughly shoved her against the wall. Now who was all talk?

"And you accused me of being clicheclichéd..." Liz sniffed disdainfully, and then bit her lip, head tipped back, lashes fluttering as she (very obviously) attempted to hold back a small whimper when he settled back against her, rolling his hips sinuously.

Michael tossed her another smug smile, chuckling darkly when she quickly opened her eyes and glared at him, almost as if she sensed it (which she likely had given her powers), and squirmed in an attempt to get free; but it was a weak thing at best and he knew that he'd soon have her writhing for a different reason altogether. Opening his mouth to tell her so, he cringed and then blinked rapidly when the door of the Eraser Room flew open, flooding the tiny room with light.

"Christ," a deep, exasperated voice muttered from the open door. "Seriously?"

Michael blinked a few more times, his sight blurring around the edges as they watered from the bright light, and then groaned internally when they cleared enough to reveal Principal Forester hovering in the doorway with a deep frown. He had been certain that the other man would be out on the athletic field at this time given the fact that he typically said a few words at the opening of the festival.

"Oh, um, hello, Principal Forester," Liz greeted sheepishly, her cheeks pink as she tried to smoothed her hair back; and he had to give her credit for not cowering in front of their former principal despite how debauched she must look.

"Aren't you two a little old for this?" Principal Forester replied, a long-suffering expression pasted on his face as dark, exasperated eyes danced between the two of them. He paused. " And have an apartment of your own to defile?"

"Sorry, Principal Forester," Liz apologized meekly, disentangling herself from Michael's embrace to smooth and straighten clothing. "We were just..."

"I know what you were just," Principal Forester said, his tone as dry as the Sahara, and Michael now had to give him credit - it wasn't often that someone could make him feel two-inches high and like an errant teenager, despite having been graduated for over five years now. A fact the other man emphasized with his next comment. "Didn't I get rid of you years ago, Guerin?"

"Well you know me," Michael replied cheekily, given the other man a jaunty salute.

"Yes, like a bad penny," Principal Forester sighed, and Michael could hear him mentally rolling his eyes before he turned to Liz with brows raised. "And you, Miss Parker; I thought you'd learned your lesson last time I found you in here..."

"Uh, yeah. Um...right," Liz murmured, her cheeks still aflame as she scuffed her sandal agaisntagainst the concrete (and really, he had to admire Forester's ability to make them feel like chastened children; he wondered if the man could teach him how he did that. He had some minions back at the booth that would benefit from such a super power.) Liz looked up, her lip clenched between her teeth as she edged around Michael and headed towards the door. "We'll just...we'll just go now."

And with those hastily muttered words, Liz fled out the door.

Principal Forester watched her scurry away for a moment before turning back to Michael with a pointed look; one he returned with another cheeky grin before sauntering past him and out the door to catch up with Liz, barely holding back a chuckle as he heard the principal shut the door firmly and walk down the hall muttering.

"Honestly, as if I don't have enough trouble with their younger counterparts, now I have to deal with this? I'm getting too old for this shit."

Michael continued to walk down the hall to where Liz was leaning against some lockers, her head bent, staring at her shoes as if they were the most interesting things since molecular manipulation. Coming to a standstill in front of her, Michael waited until she looked up, heated cheeks and all, her lips twitrchingtwitching as if fighting a grin; and then they stared at each other for a long moment before bursting into peals of laughter.

"Well that was a dose of realism that I hadn't anticipated," Michael snickered, sagging into the lockers at her side, gasping for air as she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes.

"Oh God, how embarrassing," Liz choked, then leaned against the lockers with a sigh. "Well, at least I won't have to deal with my mother being called this time."

Michael smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on her head, still chuckling himself. Pulling her into his arms, he presedpressed his face against the silky locks, reveling in the scent of strawberry and vanilla and home, and just enjoyed the feel of her. Things hadn't gone quite as he planned, but any moment with her was one he cherished.

"So, I should get that sign," Liz said after a moment, pulling away reluctantly. Looking up at him, she smiled. "See you back at the booth?"

"Yeah, I better get there before Maria manages to burn the tent down," Michael replied, placing a kiss on her temple before pushing away from the lockers; a little painfully as things hadn't quite calmed down on his end.

Watching as she turned and headed down the hallway, he smiled when she glanced over her shoulder before turning the corner to head towards the art room; then he too turned, grimacing as the motion had his jeans cutting across things far too sensitive at the moment. Reaching down, he adjusted himself and then hissed when the touch only aggravated the problem instead of cooling it.

Frowning, he looked at the bathroom door down the hall wondering if had time to take care of said problem before going out to the booth; it was going to be a miserable walk otherwise and dealing with people when he was sexually frustrated probably wasn't the best idea. Mind made up, Michael headed for the bathroom and then paused as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he smirked when he saw Liz's name, along with a pending text message.

Pressing the button to accept, he sucked in a harsh breath and stared at the message; and then stared some more, his body tightening and flushing with heat at the words:

Sex in the moonbounce later?

Michael's mouth ran dry, and he had to close his eyes for a moment, his hand clenched around his phone in an effort to to quell the urge to run down the hall and finish what they'd started in the Eraser Room. He really didn't want to test Principal Forester's patience, which would likely result in an arrest at this point; or, at the very least, lead to him and Liz being lectured on lewd public behavior at Sheriff's office. And, yeah, no. He was so not having that conversation with the midget's father, no matter how amused Valenti would be at their antics.

Drawing a steadying breath, he glanced back down at his phone; and yes, the words were still there. There were so many reasons why he should say no to this and only one reason to say yes. Thankfully, his dick won that debate. Quickly typing a message back, he wondered just how much it would cost if they both needed to be bailed out tonight.

This is why I love you.

Meet you there at 7?

Make it 8. Everyone should be at the concert then.

Excellent. I have a treat for you. Bought it the other day while I was at Taboo.

Michael's mind stalled once more as he read the name of their favorite adult-themed store. Dear God, he loved this woman; she was going to end up killing him one day, but what a way to go. Shooting back an affirmative, Michael staggered down the hall to the bathroom (he definitely had a problem to take care of now), and pausing at the door, shot another message to Maria before unlocking it with his powers and stumbling in.

Think $4 will cover public indecency?

Texts used in this drabble:

I never turn down an adventure. My life is like a sexual Lord of the Rings.

but we could do so many fantastic illegal things together. sexually and otherwise.

Right, try not to commit a felony that costs more than 4 dollars cause that is all I have in my bail jar.

and finally -

Sex in the moonbounce later?

This is why I love you.