Title: Unicorn Tears
Author: Gis
Rating: PG-13
Category: Michael/Maria
Summary: The most AU fic I've
ever written, and it's M&M...do you need any more of a reason to read
it? Okay, okay…In a world of lost
legends and folklore, one unicorn finds the truth.
Disclaimer: If I owned Roswell I'd be writing episodes, not fanfiction.
Author's Note: This is my first Roswell fic, so a little feedback would
be nice.
Banner can be found here: http://www.pageproducer.com/users/paraphernalia/unicorntearsbanner01.jpg
~Part Four~
Two days. She'd been gone for two days.
Michael lay there in bed, staring up at his ceiling, as the clock on the mantel
of the fireplace chimed, informing him that it was five o'clock in the morning.
He couldn't understand why he hadn't been able to fall asleep. Even with the
small amount of hours he normally slept, he still had no trouble falling to
sleep before now.
Flopping over onto his stomach and shoving his face into his flattened pillow,
he sighed. This was hopeless.
It was all her fault. First she spent five nights studying his every movement,
and then she spent an entire day making him feel like a normal person for once.
Now she was gone. There was no other explanation for it - Maria was a
troublemaker.
Closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, Michael dragged himself
out of bed. He might as well make good use of his time. Maybe he'd be able to
get his mind off of things...it was possible.
It didn't take him long to get dressed, moving in silence under the
candlelight. The sun wouldn't be up for another hour and a half, so there was
really only one thing he could do to pass the time.
When he finally reached the pier, the crescent moon was barely poking its head
beneath the horizon, preparing to go to sleep. The lake looked as though it had
just been painted, with a deep blue haze running around the edges where the
water quietly lapped against the rocks of the cliffs. He hadn't felt this calm
in a long time.
"The water's cold."
Michael jumped, not expecting anyone to be at the lake this early in the
morning. Turning around he watched as the person sitting on a flat rock a few
feet away stood up and walked over, standing next to him.
"What are you doing here, Maxwell?" Michael asked, crossing his arms
and staring back at the lake. "I thought you turned into a pillar of dust
if you were up before the sun rose."
Max chuckled a little; it really had been a long time since he'd been out of
bed before nine. "Couldn't sleep."
They both stood in silence for a few minutes before Max spoke again.
"Do you think I'm ready?" he asked, absently kicking at the sand with
one of his feet.
Michael watched him out of the corner of his eye, a semi-annoyed smirk on his
face. "Your wedding is in four days Max. This isn't exactly the best time
to be having doubts."
"It's not that," Max replied, shaking his head. "It's just...am
I going to be able to make the best life possible for Liz? I don't want to
screw this up."
Michael took a deep breath. He couldn't believe he, of all people, was about to
say this. "Max, the only way you're going to be screwing this up is if you
aren't there when Liz walks down that aisle. She loves you, and that's what's
going to get you through your marriage. Not whether you can by her the biggest
house, or the most expensive clothes," he told him, walking out towards
the water.
"So stop second guessing yourself and get back to bed before I have to rip
my friggin' ears off just to get some peace and quiet around here," he
growled, pulling off his shirt and throwing it onto the sand before diving into
the clear water.
What was he, the town shrink?
. . .
Swimming in the lake that morning had done nothing to dispel Michael's bad
mood. He'd still managed to bite off Alex's head when the guy was joking around
near him in the fields, get himself kicked out of the Parker's house until the
wedding, and make a six year old cry when he accidentally threw the
kid's toy onto a nearby roof.
Was it his fault the stupid thing hit him in the first place?
Now he was sitting twenty feet from the fire pit, listening to the annoying
gibbering, and all he wanted to do was go home and lock himself up for the rest
of the night. That was, until he saw it.
A strand of silver moonlight had filtered down through the trees and settled in
a sliver of golden hair near the bushes to his left. Michael held his breath as
he leaned over and squinted into the darkness, barely making out a pair of
swollen red lips and jade colored eyes. She was back.
Looking around him to make sure no one was watching, Michael crept over to the
trees behind him, emerging himself into the foliage. He nearly fell backwards
when her face appeared right in front of him, barely made visible by the flames
of the bonfire.
Holding in a snide remark, he grabbed her arm, pulling her further into the
forest where they could talk without worrying about someone hearing them.
Maria guessed that meeting the human, Michael, at the path hadn't been the best
of ideas. It was worth it, strangely enough, to see the startled look on his
face as he realized she was right in front of him. She couldn't help it though,
she was excited to be back here again for reasons she couldn't really
understand.
"Where have you been for the last two days?"
Strange, most humans used the words 'hey' or 'hello' when greeting someone. At
least from what she had noticed.
"I needed some time to dictate my thoughts and findings down from when I
first came here," she told him, looking up thoughtfully. "I think
it's often called...writing in a journal." She smiled at up him, proud of
herself for remembering such an odd fact about humans' names for things.
Michael clenched his fists. He had been worried about her for the last day and
a half because she wanted to play dear diary?!
Wait...he had been worried about her. Why had he been worried about her?
Maria watched as Michael's face turned the color of a very ripe tomato, before
a look of utter shock suddenly fell over his face. She waited another minute
but he still hadn't spoken. "You're very peculiar," she told him,
turning around and walking a little further into the forest, "for
a...person."
Did she just call him peculiar? He scoffed at her, "Like you should be
talking, Blondie."
Maria stared at him long and hard. Yes...he was definitely peculiar. "Are
you coming?"
Michael shook his head to clear it, not realizing that he had fallen into
thought again. Looking over to where she'd already walked nearly twenty feet
ahead of him, he jogged to catch up.
"Where are we going?" he asked gruffly. "It's the middle of the
night, shouldn't you be sleeping?"
Looking back for a moment, Maria glared at him. "I could say the same
thing about you. After all, you only get a few hours of sleep every
night."
Michael stopped, staring at her retreating back, "How do you know how long
I sleep?"
Cringing as she stopped walking, Maria turned around to face him. He almost
looked like he had that first night he'd approached her, guarded and somewhat
closed off. Shrugging her shoulders and folding her arms in what she thought
fairly resembled a normal human response, she answered him, "Simple. You
look like crap."
Well, he did look quite a bit tired, didn't he? She had a feeling he wouldn't
be too happy with her if she told him that she'd been looking in on him through
his kitchen window for the last few days.
Narrowing his eyes at her, he reluctantly began following her again. "So
where are we going?"
"Just for a walk," she replied. "The forest is always so alive
during the night. It's my favorite time to see it." Smiling back at him,
she led him down a path off to the right.
"There was this place I use to always visit when I was younger; it had a
perfect view of the stars. I remember rolling through the flowers in the field
and...running...from one end to the other to see how long it would take
me," she stopped as they reached the edge of the trees, the forest opening
into a small meadow filled with fireflies that were flittering around
excitedly, and daisies that were swaying slowly with the slight breeze Michael
could now feel on the back of his neck.
She was right, the forest was beautiful at night.
"Do you still go there?" he asked quietly, watching her lips fall
into a slight frown.
"No...I haven't been back there in a very long time."
Michael was confused. If she loved the place so much, why hadn't she been back?
"Do you want to go back?"
Maria stared out at the meadow, wishing she could tell him. She looked down,
sadly. It wasn't meant for him to know. She shouldn't have brought him here.
"We should get back now, it's late."
Watching her for another moment, Michael nodded his head. As much as he wanted
to know why, it wasn't his place to ask.
Maybe she would trust him later. He hoped she would.