Part 3
Two Thousand and Two Goodbyes

Michael shifted the gears in his Jeep Liberty Renegade and stole a glance over at the blonde sitting next to him.  Maria… her name was Maria.  He hadn't had a chance to try it out loud much yet, but in his mind it sounded like the sweetest honey, dripping from his mouth as it caressed his lips.

"Nice truck," she commented softly, puncturing the slightly awkward silence between them.

"Jeep," he corrected, tossing a smile her way as he paid homage to the only proper reference to his beloved vehicle.

His smile was not returned as she stared intently across the shadowed interior at him.  Sure she was going ask him to release her at the next corner, he swallowed nervously, about to offer some sort of patched-together lame a-ss apology when she suddenly laughed a little too loudly in the tiny space.

"I drive a TJ," she offered, giggling.

"You drive a TJ?" Michael asked incredulously.  "Soft top?"

"Yeah," she said casually, shrugging to signal the normalcy of what was so very obviously not a normal vehicle for a single woman to drive.  "It's reliable… and you can't beat the looks it gets me."

Now, it was his turn to stare as she blatantly admitted her penchant for flirting and a silence descended over them for an extended moment until both burst into laughter.

"Okay, so we've each got a cool ride," he stated, still smiling.  "Other than that…"

"We don't know very much?" she finished.

Michael nodded his agreement as he focused on the dark road ahead of him, slowing to a stop at a set of amber traffic lights.

"Well I know your name, now…" she continued.  "Michael Evans, coffee shop guy."

"Guerin."

"What?"

"It's Guerin.  My name, it's Michael Guerin."

"But isn't Max…"

Used to the common question, Michael answered easily.  "Max is Evans, Isabel is Evans-Whitman and I'm Guerin—long family history."

Nodding, Maria accepted his explanation without question as she added, "We've got one of those too—I'm Deluca and Kyle's Valenti."

"Divorce?"

"And remarriage."

"Well we've just got an adoption, or rather foster care that didn't quite get around to the adoption phase."

"You or them, or is that too much?" she queried hesitantly.

"Me, and no, it's not too much if you tell me your story."

"My Dad left 20 years ago and my Mom remarried when I was 18.  I didn't see the point in changing it then so I kept Deluca," she explained simply.

"Okay," he said as he slowed and looked to his left before turning onto a new street.  "My turn—eyes?"

"What about them?"

"What color are they?"

"Oh, green."

Surprise registered on his face as he glanced across the darkened interior at her.  "Just… green?"

She only shrugged in response, smiling as she watched the lights from oncoming cars play across his face.  "I only describe what I see, it's not the same when you're talking about yourself."

"Fair enough… then I get another question."

"Sure."

"Ahh… boyfriend?"

"You are just like your sister!"

"Oh s-hit, what did she do?"

"Oh, not much, just gave me the third degree about any skeletons I might have hiding in my closet."

"And…"

"And what?"

"Do you have any skeletons?"

"That's a bit much for a first date, isn't it?"

"Is this a first date?"

"Oh I… uh…"

Laughing, Michael signaled again and pulled to a quick stop in front of the closed coffee shop.  Shutting off the jeep, he turned to her and tried to catch a glimpse of the 'green' eyes through the shadows.  "How about we just get a drink and talk?  We do it every day, should be simple enough."

"Yeah, simple," she echoed softly, shooting him a tentative smile as she turned to exit the vehicle.  Simple would be to have met you before I ever decided to go through with this, Maria thought to herself.  Simple would be to not have to tell a brand new date that you were already taken… in a sense.

'Chill,' she commanded herself as he rounded the hood and reached to close her door.  'You are just getting a cup of tea like you do twice a day every day, the fact that you know his name makes no difference whatsoever.'

Staring at his back as he unlocked the familiar coffee shop, she knew that his name had suddenly made the biggest difference of all—he was no longer a nameless stranger that existed on the fringe of her life, he was a guy that she was totally interested in that now had the potential to become something more than her 'coffee shop guy'.  The only question was if she was ready to have anyone be something more to her—she had a secret, a big one, and she was petrified of falling for someone that would most likely freak at the news and vanish.  She had to make a decision, either come clean to him up front and risk not ever knowing if they could have been good together or just try and enjoy the few weeks before her 'condition' would be obvious and then tell him—and watch him walk away.

As she stepped into the darkened shop behind him, she knew that it was already too late to choose—she had fallen for him the moment he'd walked into that apartment this afternoon, the only thing she could hope for now was that his niece wasn't the only child he liked to play Barbies with.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael watched the foam rise on his milk cautiously, timing the temperature peak just perfectly before killing the steam.  Adding the liquid to the already sinful concoction of espresso and caramel in the two over-sized mugs resting on the counter, he scraped a heaping helping of frothy nothingness on top before drizzling the entire drink with even more sticky sweet syrup.

"You are like a 'coffee' Picasso," Isabel observed, accepting one of the mugs from him as she turned away to sit at a nearby table.  "Each one a work of art."

"I try," Michael said humbly, picking up his own mug to join her.  Collapsing heavily into a chair, he sighed, "It has been crazy in here today.  I thought people were supposed to spend the holidays at home… with family."

"Well you're working like a dog, why shouldn't the rest of the city?"

Smirking slightly at her, he had to nod his agreement that the date of December 30th did little to keep the caffeine addicted masses at bay.  Fiddling with the handle of his mug, he paused for a few moments before giving in to the necessity to know and asking, "So, I know you didn't trek all the way downtown for a Caramel Macchiato, what gives?"

"Can't a girl just visit her brother when she wants to?" she asked innocently.

"Sure she can, when it's not a work day and I know that she has somewhere else to be," he tossed back lightly.

Grinning, she shook her head as she remembered that he always was good at seeing right through people; secrets never held for long around this particular brother.  "I just wanted to see what you were doing for New Year's," she explained finally.

"And you couldn't do this on the phone?"

"What?  Me coming down here is that bad?"

"No, no, that's not it and you know it.  Just… why the long trip?"

"I don't know," she said, shrugging.  Staring at the melting swirls of caramel adorning the java masterpiece in her hand, Isabel cleared her throat lightly as she continued.  "We are just going over to Liz's with Max and I was wondering if you could make it.  That Maria girl is supposed to be there."

"Ahh, she reveals her evil plot," Michael said, shaking his head.

"What?  You two seemed like you really hit it off the other day and I know you've seen her since then.  Why not come?"

Shrugging, he took a long sip of the still scalding liquid before him, wincing at the instant burns to his mouth before replying, "I might drop by."

"Michael…" she intoned seriously.

"Isabel…" he returned mockingly.  Staring her down, she blinked first and looked away as a satisfied smile spread across his face at his victory.

"I just think it's time to get out there again, you know?"

"I knew it.  Everything always has to come down to that, doesn't it?" he asked heavily, the underlying tones of anger glaringly obvious in his voice.

"No, it doesn't always and you know it.  In fact it hardly ever does because you never care enough to act on it.  Now I saw the way you two were looking at each other and I think you should go for it."

Grinding his teeth together behind pinched lips, Michael attempted to drown his fury in the melting foam on his cup before speaking… it didn't work.  "Where exactly did you get your doctorate on my personal life, Iz?  This one doesn't affect you."

Obviously taken aback by his forceful reaction, she hesitated before reaching a tentative hand across the table to rest on his arm.  "It's been five years, don't you think…"

"I've got to get back to work."

Standing abruptly, he averted his eyes from the penetrating glance of his sister as he picked up his barely touched drink and turned away.

Rushing to follow him, Isabel stood from her seat, knocking her leg against the table as her own untouched drink sloshed about madly.  "Oh s-hit," she cried softly, snatching her cup from the table as she looked around for something to clean up the mess.

"Here, I got it," Michael stepped in, grabbing a cloth from the counter to lean over and soak up the spilled liquid.

Watching him for a moment, she noted the intense look of concentration on his face as he pushed aside the old memories she had inadvertently brought to the surface and lost himself in his work again.  It was always the same, every time she thought that he might be ready to move on, to put that part of his life behind him, something sparked a deep-seeded emotional reaction and it was as if he was losing her all over again.

He turned when he was finished, reaching out to take the mug from her hands when she suddenly latched on onto his forearm.

"Just try, okay?" she asked quietly.  "It'll be a nice party anyway."

"I'll see," he muttered gruffly.

"That's all I can ask," she replied, smiling.  Reaching up with both arms, she wrapped them around his neck for a quick hug and pecked his cheek lightly, pulling away just as she felt his muscles stiffen and knew the invasion of his personal space had worn out its welcome.

Grabbing her purse from her chair, she moved towards the door tossing, "Call me," over her shoulder as she went.

Michael watched her leave, cursing as he realized that he was still holding the dripping coffee mug and had now spilled caramel tinged coffee all over him.  Shaking his head as he moved behind the counter to dump the contents in the sink, he had to fight to force his thoughts not to retreat into the warmth of the welcoming sanctuary Isabel had shown him.  No matter how much time seemed to pass, it still only took the slightest reminder to send him reeling back to that time when life made sense and everything seemed like it was on a perfect track for him.

He had known at the time that it was too good to be true, but prayed every night that he was wrong.  There was the belief, held by many, that if you had a miserable start in life you were entitled to a glorious ending.  Michael had almost come to believe in the theorem when his very foundation was ripped from beneath his feet and he was left in a darker place than his years of abuse had ever placed him.

No, he resolved firmly.  He was not going to allow his mind to venture back into that hell dimension on this day.  Isabel was right in a sense; it was time to move on and he had just found the perfect person to do it with.  If 'herbal tea chick' was going to be at this party then so was he… even if it killed him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael slipped through the crowded living room of Liz's apartment, furtively glancing around for the signature blonde head he sought.  He'd complied with Isabel's wishes and showed up at the party only to find himself repeatedly catching her eye across the room but unable to extract himself from the pointless conversations with strangers long enough to reach her.

Now it was almost midnight; he'd already been here for well over an hour and so far hadn't spoken a word to her.  Looking up at his reflection in the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony, he audibly sighed as he realized that he looked just as desperate as he felt.  Spending time with her, testing the waters a little more as he took the first tentative steps towards what could quite possibly be his first real relationship in five years, had been the primary goal tonight.  Instead, here he was, completely alone in the middle of the teeming masses, pathetically searching her out for what… for a simple Happy New Year's wish or was it for more…

He had no idea.

"This is pointless," he muttered as he turned to mount his final struggle through the crowd, hoping to make an undetected early exit.  Somewhere in the periphery of his vision, a streak of red caught his attention and he stopped, turning back to seek out the source.  It was the same color she was wearing, he was sure of it, but as he scanned the room he still couldn't find her.  Chalking it up to a burning desire to see her, mixed with an slightly overactive imagination, he was about to give up his pursuit for the second time when a small movement drew his attention outside of the apartment and he knew where he'd seen the color.

On the balcony, in sub-zero temperatures, she stood alone, her arms clasped tightly around her body, looking out over the twinkling lights of the partying city.  His breath caught in his throat as he felt himself pulled towards the glass doors; her profile was silhouetted by the lights streaming out of the living room windows and he would have sworn at that moment that he had never witnessed a more beautiful creature.  Pushing aside the barrier separating them, he stepped outside and approached her silently.

"I was wondering how long it'd take you," she said suddenly, shattering the element of surprise he thought he possessed.  Turning to glance up at him with her statement, she observed his startled look, smiling as she explained, "Sorry, you just don't seem the mingling type."

"Uh… not exactly," he confirmed, tossing her one of the trademark smirks that were already destined to set her heart fluttering.  Leaning forward to rest his arms on the railing, he continued, "So, ah… we know all about my anti-social tendencies, but why are you out here?"

"Ugh," she groaned lightly, pressing a hand to her forehead.  "If I'm expected to spend an entire evening with Liz's lab rats, copious amounts of alcohol are required."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," he offered as he turned away to go back inside.

"Oh no," she said quickly, reaching out to grab his arm.   "I can't, I'm uh… I'm allergic to alcohol."

"You're what?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm allergic," she continued, thankful that the darkness of the night sky hid the flush on her cheeks.  "It's actually pretty common."

"It's actually a sin, that's what it is!" he exclaimed.

Laughing, she shot him another brilliant smile as she shrugged her shoulders helplessly.  "I get along fine without it."

"Well, I'm sure, but still…" he muttered, stepping back towards her when they both suddenly noticed her hand still clutching his arm.

His eyes dropped downwards, lingering on the grace of her fingers before climbing their way back to her face.  Embarrassment registered there as she jerked her arm quickly, attempting to pull it away just as he clamped his down atop hers.

"Don't," he said quietly, staring directly into her eyes as he erased the distance between them.  "Caribbean sea just after sunrise," he murmured.

"What?" she breathed, focusing first on his approaching mouth and then on his eyes as he released the words.

"Your eyes… that's what color they are."

10...

9...

Stirred by his words, she panted lightly as she leaned closer and whispered, "It's almost time."

7...

6...

"Time for what?" he asked softly.

4...

3...

"Time to start again," she murmured, moistening her lips lightly as she tipped her face towards him.

1...

"Happy New Year!"

The final inches evaporated between them as they each equally poured themselves into the new love; the kiss was explosive, and Maria would later swear that actual sparks had ignited on her lips.  A hunger born partly from being denied the pleasure of someone's company for too long, and partly from the sheer deliciousness that was the man she kissed, consumed her.  Losing herself in his caress, she sensed, more than felt, the tiny life stirring inside her and knew that she had more than herself to consider in deciding to begin a relationship with him.  Gasping for air in the nonexistent separation between them, she pulled away slightly, favoring her pulsating bottom lip as she paused to regain her composure.  Staring up into his hooded eyes, the look of pure desire rising there overwhelmed her—she knew she'd have to make a rational decision about pursuing this but right now her only thought was that all rationality could wait until next year.