Part 13

Maria opened her front door and stepped back to allow Alex to enter the apartment before turning to face him. Nearly a month had passed since they had come back home and she hadn't spoken to Michael once.

"What're you doing here, Alex?" she asked tiredly.

Alex wandered into the living room and dropped down to sit on the couch. His gaze roamed over his best friend as she came in and curled up in the chair across from him. "You still haven't heard from him?"

"Not a word." After everything she had been through the case hadn't gone to trial and he knew she had mixed emotions about that.

Aidan Salazar had turned over enough evidence to bring his uncle's organization to its knees and in exchange he had been placed in witness protection; he would never be punished for the murder Maria had seen him commit.

"Has Isabel talked to him?"

"Huh-uh."

Isabel had flown to New York less than a week after they had been called back, but she hadn't had much to say about Michael. He had made himself scarce after her brother had healed him and she had only seen him once before leaving to catch a flight to New York.

"Would she tell you if she had?" Maria sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Alex, that was uncalled for."

He waved the apology off and leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees as he watched her. He knew she had gone back to Roswell just as soon as she had been freed of her obligations to the D.A. and the case, but she hadn't been prepared to discover that Michael had left without telling anyone. He hadn't said a word to Isabel or her brother and no one seemed to have any idea where he had gone. She had gone to the bar and talked to Joe, but the bartender had only been able to tell her that Michael was no longer working there. "Can I talk you into goin' out with us tonight?"

"I don't know… I don't really feel like going anywhere."

"You need to get out and be around people, Maria. C'mon, just for a couple hours." He chuckled when she gave in reluctantly and nodded in agreement.

Maria rambled around the apartment after Alex left, glancing around at the things lying around out of place because she simply hadn't felt like making the effort to put them away. Maybe it was time to straighten things up and stop wondering where Michael was. She had made sure he had all of her contact information and her address but he hadn't bothered to contact her.

She had called him but he hadn't answered and the last call had been answered by an electronic voice that delivered an automated message – his number was no longer in service. She needed to pull herself together, she thought. Michael had chosen to cut off any path of communication so she needed to accept that he didn't want anything to do with her. She would go out tonight and spend some time with Alex and Isabel, hit the dance floor for a few songs, and quite possibly drink too much in an effort to forget that she had lost the best thing that had ever happened to her.

The club was packed which was normal for a Friday night, but Maria wasn't really enjoying the pounding atmosphere the way she normally did. She had danced with a couple of guys, watched Alex and Isabel as they hit the floor for most of the songs, and the rest of the time she had spent staring into her drink without a single ounce of interest.

"Figures," she muttered. Michael had managed to ruin alcoholic drinks for her. She froze when she felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck and she turned her head, expecting to see Michael somewhere in the crowd watching her.

"Maria!"

She forced a smile when Justin squeezed between a group of people gathered in a circle waiting for their turn to place their drink orders and sauntered over to her. "No date tonight, Justin?"

"Not yet." He glanced at her untouched drink and his left eyebrow quirked in question. "It's positively criminal for you to be sittin' here all alone," he said as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "Why don't you come and dance with me; the women'll be comin' after me once they sense competition."

"I don't think helping you get laid is anywhere in my job description," she muttered, but didn't try to pull her hand back.

"I'll have it added in first thing Monday mornin'." He tossed a grin over his shoulder as they stepped out on the dance floor.

Maria couldn't help the smile that appeared at his teasing tone. It was easy enough to fall into sync with the music and she knew from experience that he was an excellent dance partner, but she would've traded it in a heartbeat for a moody alien who had no sense of rhythm whatsoever.

Nearly an hour passed before they left the dance floor, out of breath and laughing after a sad attempt to master a new dance that neither of them had ever done before. Alex and Isabel were already at the table when they got there, their bodies close together as they discussed something in low tones.

"You've seriously gotta tell me how my scruffy photojournalist managed to snag that woman," Justin said as he pulled Maria's chair out for her.

Isabel chuckled when Alex just grinned and shrugged at the man who sat down across from her. Justin had nearly fallen out of his chair the first time she had gone to the office to meet Alex for lunch and she had been introduced to the editor. As soon as he had recovered from the shock his first question had been to inquire whether she had a sister back at home.

"Where's our waitress?" Maria asked, glancing around when she realized that the drinks had been cleared from the table.

"She'll be back in a minute; I noticed you weren't drinking your drink so I told her to just bring you a soda." Alex answered, turning to look at his girlfriend. "You ready to hit the floor again?"

"Let's go." Isabel took his hand and they quickly disappeared into the crowd.

"I just don't get it," Justin muttered, shaking his head. "I've been here for several hours and I haven't been hit on once. Seriously, Maria, how did Whitman go to the middle of nowhere and come back here with a woman that looks like that?"

"Sorry for the holdup, folks," a tall redhead apologized as she placed the drinks on the table. "It's crazy tonight."

"My friend ordered soda for me," Maria said when the woman placed an alcoholic drink in front of her.

The waitress frowned as she looked down at her order pad. "Yes, he did. Sorry, like I said, it's been crazy tonight; I'll take it back and get your soda."

Less than a minute later the drink was placed on the table in front of her again, but before Maria could make a negative response a gruff voice whispered in her ear.

"As I recall, a Screaming Orgasm is one of your favorites."

"Michael!" She whirled around and launched herself into his arms, forgetting that she was mad at him for not calling or being there when she went back to Roswell. "Where have you been?"

"Takin' a closer look at myself and getting my shit in order."

Justin cleared his throat and was reaching out to grab Maria's arm to get her attention when a large hand wrapped around his wrist and twisted it painfully. His gaze shot up to the man holding her.

"Don't touch her," Michael growled. "And you," he glanced down at Maria. "You don't ever dance with him again."

Justin pulled his wrist free and shot to his feet. "I don't know who the hell you are, but you have no right to tell her who she can and can't dance with."

Michael glared at him and the only thing that kept him from getting in the other man's face was the feel of the woman in his arms. "You're lucky I didn't walk out on that dance floor and kick your ass for puttin' your hands on her – "

"Hey, I did nothin' inappropriate; trust me she would've damaged body parts if I had."

"Appropriate, inappropriate, I don't give a fuck," Michael snarled. "Don't ever let me catch you with your hands on her again."

"Hey, don't take Justin's head off," Maria said, leaning back to run her hands over his chest. "He's the one I told you about, Michael, the one who sent me to Roswell to protect me." She reached up, taking his chin in her hand and directing his gaze to her. "He's not interested in me like that." She glanced between the two men. "Michael, meet Justin Turner, my editor and friend. Justin, meet Michael Guerin… the man I love." She looked up into his dark eyes, searching them and finding what she was looking for. He had some explaining to do, but she wasn't going to rush to judgment this time. "I think it'd be safe to say you can get used to seeing him around from now on."

Justin grinned and offered his right hand, not surprised when the other man ignored it and growled menacingly at him.

"Someone's feeling territorial," Maria muttered under her breath as she turned to look at her boss. "You're on your own, Justin; we're going home." She smiled when she felt Michael's body relax in response to her words.

"Hey, DeLuca, take the limo home; I'll call Fred and tell him to meet you out front."

"We can catch a cab, Justin."

"Uh-huh." He shook his head. "Just take the limo; I don't wanna see the competition coverin' a story about my lead reporter getting arrested for public indecency."

"I'm not – "

He snorted and sat down again. "How long's it been since you've seen each other?" He shook his head and waved them off. "You're never gonna make it all the way across town; take the limo."