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.

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~Part Five~

Maria's eyebrows crinkled as she watched the large pendulum swing back and forth inside of the object Liz had labeled a 'Grandfather clock'. Every time it reached one of the sides, a ticking noise came from somewhere deep inside and it switched directions, as if being commanded to do so. It was marvelous!

"So the small dials move around to the numbers and it tells you what time it is?"

Liz laughed lightheartedly at the strange girl. "Yep. The short 'dial' tells you what the hour is, and the long 'dial' tells you the minute," she explained, pointing to each of them in turn.

Maria sat tapping her teeth with a long fingernail for a moment, thinking. "What makes it move?" she inquired, resisting the urge to open the small door and probe around inside of it.

"Well," Liz began, pointing to another large object attached to a long chain, "the weight here pulls down the chain, which is wrapped around a series of pulleys that make the clock move. When the weight reaches the bottom of the clock we reset it and that keeps the clock in motion."

Maria smiled, looking up at Liz from the chair she was sitting in. "I never realized humans could be so creative."

Laughing at the girl's strange choice of words, Liz led them both into the kitchen, picking up a large mixing bowl and setting it in front of Maria on the table. "So where are you from?" she asked, handing her four eggs off of the counter.

Maria stared down at the bowl and the eggs, not quite sure what Liz wanted her to do with them. "I came from a place quite a long way from here. It was a small mountain side near the city of Kaiteck."

Picking up one of the eggs and tapping it gently on the side of the bowl, Liz silently showed her how to crack one, smiling when she was finished. Maria picked one of them up, mimicking Liz's demonstration as a few small pieces of the shell fell into the bowl.

"Don't worry, I use to do that all of the time when I first started learning how to cook," Liz told her, carefully picking out the shells and throwing them away. "You get better at it."

Maria continued cracking the eggs as Liz pulled a few things from the cupboards and out of the icebox.

"Was it a small place?" Liz asked her, wondering what kinds of food they must have eaten if the girl didn't know how to cook.

Maria finished plucking out a few shells from the bowl and answered her, "It was very largely inhabited long ago, but it was abandoned just a few years after I came into existence." She threw the now empty shells away and looked up at Liz, wondering what she should do next.

Reaching over and putting a few more things into the bowl, Liz handed her a long wooden spoon. "Just use this to stir it all together." Maria took it and awkwardly began mixing the batter. "Where did you and your parents live after that?" she asked, wiping a small amount of flour off of her palm.

Stopping for a moment, Maria looked out of the window. "My 'parents' were killed when the city was deserted, and I was left to fend for myself."

Liz froze.

So that was why she seemed so innocent and curious - she'd been living on her own in the wilderness since she was a child! "No one took you in? That's awful!"

Maria bit her lip. She'd forgotten that human infants couldn't fend for themselves at such a young age. At least she was pretty sure they couldn't...

"I was alright. I'd learned most of everything I needed to survive from before the village was destroyed," she told her, concentrating on not spilling the ingredients she was stirring together.

Liz smiled at her, placing a few pans out onto the table, coating them with a bit of butter. "Well, I'm glad you've come to Albythia," she said, taking the bowl from Maria after she'd finished.

Wiping her hands off on a towel, Maria smiled. "So am I."

. . .

Alex stared at Michael long and hard from across the haystack they were currently bailing out of the loft for the animals. Was it his imagination, or was Michael...un-moody today? He was sure anyone who recently met him would think he was just being his normally rude, obnoxious, and generally pompous self. But today, he could have sworn Michael's usual smirks were replaced by unknowing half-smiles.

That was it; he was recommending Michael see a psychiatrist as soon as possible.

"Okay, what's the deal?" he asked, leaning over onto the stack with his gloved hands. "For the last few days you've been nearly unbearable to be around, and today you come in here grinning like you've got a new victim on the rack," he stated, scratching his left ear. "What gives?"

Michael glowered menacingly at him. "What do you mean what gives? I've been acting the same way I always act," he stated, shoving a pitchfork harder into the hay and hurling the yellow straw out of the opening, nearly knocking Alex off balance.

Glaring back at him, Alex picked up his pitchfork and began bailing hay again. "Yeah, well you can convince just about anyone else Guerin, but you can't convince me. I've known you since you were six and I think I can tell when you're in a good mood or not."

Michael sighed, exasperatedly. "Whatever, Whitman." Why in the world was the guy asking him such stupid questions? He wasn't any different today then he had been yesterday, or days before for that matter.

"Fine, you go on denying it," Alex replied, nonchalantly. "I'll just find out some other way."

That was it; friend or no friend Michael was going to snap his neck.

"Michael?"

Stopping mid-hurl of his pitchfork, Michael looked down out of the loft. Standing just below with a happy smile on her face was Maria, carrying a small basket in her hands that had been covered by a dishcloth.

A tiny smile pulled at the corner of his mouth and he set his pitchfork down, turning around to head down the ladder.

Making his way to the edge of the loft, Alex peeked out over it. The new girl? Michael was in a semi-decent mood because of the weird new girl? Well, this was certainly an interesting development.

He watched from above as Michael exited the barn, sticking his hands in his pockets and smiling at her. Michael Guerin was smiling?!

That was it, Alex was seeing his own stinking psychiatrist!

. . .

"Hey," Michael said, as he walked up to the mischievous girl standing in front of him.

Grabbing hold of his sleeve, Maria led him over to shady tree, pulling him down next to her. Biting her lip, she held the basket up in front of her. "Here."

Michael took it by the handle, looking at her curiously. "What's in it?"

"Let's see, Liz said they were called sugar cookies," she replied, lifting up the towel to reveal a small pile of the confections.

Michael glanced at her, picking one up and sniffing it. "Did Liz make them?"

After she nodded, he placed one in his mouth, taking a large bite. "With my help."

His jaw suddenly stilled as he talked through a mouth full of potentially hazardous organics. "She let you help?"

She smiled back at him, pleased that she'd had a hand in making them.

Well, they didn't taste too bad. If Liz was in charge of it, they should be safe.

Smiling back at her, Michael took another bite, crunching down on something hard. He carefully spit it out, watching as a piece of eggshell landed into his palm.

"Sorry," she said, wrinkling up her nose. "I must have missed some."

Swallowing the rest of the cookie he smirked back. So she wasn't the best cook in the world, it wasn't such a horrible thing.

"That's okay, if I tried to make them they probably would have come out burnt."

Tucking her knees up under her chin, Maria watched him as his tongue came out to lick the stray sugar off of his lips. He was such a handsome creature when he was most unaware of it.

She startled from her thoughts when she noticed that he was studying her, as he rested back on his elbows.

"I have to go. Liz made me promise that I'd come back and help her with a few things for her wedding if she let me bring you food from her house," she told him, smirking.

Liz had informed her of the very reason he was banned from being there in the first place, and she couldn't entirely disagree with her. Michael Guerin really had a way of sticking his foot in his mouth sometimes.

Michael's smile fell slightly, turning into a crooked smirk. "Okay, I'll see you later then?"

She nodded and stood up, brushing off her dress as he watched her.

"Bye," he said, quietly.

Nodding a little, she headed back.