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 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.
