Title: Compassion ( Destiny part six )
Timeline: The first of 15 parts for Crazy.
Perspective: Maria and Michael
Spoilers: Nothing relevant, mostly thought
Disclaimer: Characters and main storylines are not mine, but this is a remixed version of the original so steal those ideas and I will... Cry.

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"Michael made omelettes." Isabel sets the tray down on the bedside table and opens the curtains which let in an array of light like Maria has never seen before. Maybe the light here shines differently or maybe it's because her eyelids are half closed, sitting lazily on her eyes, unwilling to fully open. Isabel has been doing this every Sunday for two weeks — bringing Maria breakfast while Michael and Max go over the week's findings and Alex interrupts them to play video games before work — and yet Maria isn't fully used to it yet. Wake up calls usually come from her mother who is, of course, unaware that she is at Michael's because she's not. Nope. She's at Isabel's having girl's night like they always do every Saturday. In actuality, Maria is a horrible child with an Czechoslovakian boyfriend and a world of secrets that her mother can never know because she'd simply explode and that wouldn't be good, no, it wouldn't.

Maria's world, my has it changed. With the end of the summer and the beginning of school came the end and beginning of many a thing, some good, some bad, some life threatening and all life altering. Czechoslovakians. "Damn those Czechoslovakians," is what Maria used to say and now, now she can't exactly say that. Now those Czechoslovakians are her best friends, her comrades, her own personal bodyguards. Isabel is like the replacement of Liz since she stopped hanging out with Maria and Alex and started going to real Science Club — Whatever, Maria's still calling it the Human/Czechoslovakian Alliance to which there is much protest because Michael thinks Czechoslovakian should be first. This is Earth, buddy not your nameless Czechoslovakian homeland — and became a total bitch just because Max is ignoring her. Okay, so what if Max is ignoring her, Maria and Alex aren't so maybe she should pick up the phone sometime, or say hello at school, but no, Liz Parker is above that. Whatever.

Max — Who, by the way, is horrible at Street Fighter and should never attempt to play it ever again as he will fail miserably and be humiliated, and no one wants that because it's just not amusing anymore, it's becoming sad — is like the darker haired, more moody and broody version of Alex and when put in a room with Alex is even more entertaining than Isabel threatening to turn unmentionable parts of Michael blue. The two of them provide endless entertainment, especially during Bewitched because they talk over everything and make up their own lines which, of course, drives Michael insane. Which brings us to Michael, the once broody, annoying, self centered, over confident, manipulative, unnecessarily heroic, jerky, close minded insert string of bad words here, who has since changed his ways and become, well, perfect.

It's days like today that Maria can just lay half asleep while Isabel gets comfy on the bed and starts crisping the bacon to her liking and not worry about, well, anything. "Where's my shirt?" She sits up, pulling the covers over her chest and blinking away the sun to no avail. Isabel helps her scour the floor for it but a lost cause is a lost cause. "Damned if I know. How was last night?" Maria gets that silly smirk on her face and giggles into her knees which are drawn up in front of her. Last night was like every other night she and Michael are together, like every second she and Michael are together; unexplainable and euphoric and just—

"I mean the visions." Isabel has this way of interrupting thoughts, maybe because she's visited Maria's dreams so often, maybe because Maria is so readable. "Oh, right," she laughs again and eats a forkful of omelette as an excuse to prolong having to answer. "You got visions, of course, but nothing relevant to our current crises and nothing new?" Maria is now flush with rosy red cheeks and a lip biting grin across her lips. Isabel is handing her toast and trying not to laugh. They do this a lot, this silent exchange of words. Talking but not speaking. Communicating with each other and yet, no words are ever spoken. It's the kind of bond Maria used to have with Liz. But Liz has changed somehow.

"Okay, you have to tell me, because I can't keep covering for you if I don't know the whole story." Both Maria and Isabel get doubly comfortable as Isabel finishes off the bacon and Maria the omelette and they break the last piece of toast in half to share. "Is it big?" is the first question she asks which sends them both into hysterical giggles as Maria nods fervently. Max once described them as a pack of wild hyenas and now, Maria can see why he would think so. That doesn't stop the laughter though, nor does it stop Isabel's questions. Through bits of buttered toast and a horde of wild hyena laughter, Isabel manages to ask Maria to specifically, in detail, with reference to every individual experience, tell her what it was like.

She begins the story with "Amazing," but is cut off by the opening of the door and the face of a very confused and annoyed Michael — squinty eyes, furrowed eyebrows and all. "What are you two doing in here?" He cuts himself off before either one can attempt an answer and holds out his hands in protest. "I don't want to know. So just finish up your little, whatever it is you're doing, and get dressed, we gotta get to work, you know." He moves to close the door and Maria puts on that pout. "Michael." Isabel is now wearing his confused look and looking back and fourth between the two of them. He blushes — Maria loves it when he blushes — and hurries into the room to give her three kisses, two on the lips and one on the nose. "Your shirt's under the bed, by the way, you kicked it there last night."

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Michael tries not to blush, he really does, but the whole Maria thing just brings out the — best or worst, he hasn't decided — unknown in him. It's not like it's a bad thing, to be compassionate, to show compassion and be romantic and cute and couply like that, but it's weird. It's the kind of stuff you'd expect Maxwell and Liz to do, though they hadn't been doing much of anything lately. He closes the door behind him and both he and Maxwell shake their heads at the laughter that follows. Girls really are insane. "Okay, if Isabel gets to know then you have to tell me." Max is munching on an apple and hands Michael the other video game control. Alex chimes in from the kitchen, "Don't start without me, I got the popcorn!" It's this kind of stuff that makes Michael wonder — how did things get like this?

Just before the summer ended you'd have to pay good money to get Michael Guerin anywhere close to Alex and Maria, in fact, you'd have to pay good money to get him close to anyone human. Before the summer ended his life was simple, basic, not affected by any emotion other than what he had for Is and Max. Before the summer, Michael realizes, he wasn't happy. And now, with Alex and Max waiting eagerly for his account of sex — granted, it is alien/human sex so it is bound to be different, not like they would know, ha — and Maria and Isabel in the other room giggling like school girls, he is. And not just happy like when you get a Christmas present, no, like real happy.

Everyone is so involved, he thinks, so connected. And the one missing link is the one that could bring the whole thing down. He hates to admit it, in fact he hates to even think about it, but everyone in this apartment owes something to Liz. What's even worse is that all of their lives are in her very unstable hands. Michael is more than sure that Alex and Maria won't let their secret out, but Liz. No one really knows what goes through her mind. And since no one's spoken to her in a while, there's no way to know what she's been thinking. It's unsettling, unnerving, and really damn annoying.

"Okay, from the top, how was it? How long did you go for? Where, how, and who was on top?" Maxwell takes a handful of popcorn and gulps down some Pepsi. Alex nods along hurriedly and speaks through a mouthful of popcorn kernels, many of which are falling into his lap. "Maria's a freak in the sheets, isn't she? I knew it, she just seems the type." Michael scoffs at the two of them, hungry eyed and gaping for his response. Immature little boys. He laughs under his breath and sighs deeply. "Boys, can we get some real questions here?" Wounded, Max and Alex go over to the door, lean in close to each other and collaborate on what must be the best question any one has ever asked about sex because they come up after about twenty minutes. What they come up with is so predictable, Michael's head almost explodes.

Alex hands him a piece of paper and a pencil and they both sit down again. "If you would, as well as you can, try to think hard on this one, draw us a diagram of Maria's. Well, you know." He raises his eyebrows in this completely nerdy way and nudges Max. "Her," Max looks down at his chest and coughs. There is an awkward exchange of glances between the three of them and more coughing. Max continues to stare at his chest after the coughing and it finally dawns on Michael. Finally. "OH! Oh, right. Sure. Pass me the pencil."

"Michael Guerin! Tell me you are not about to draw my BOOBS on that piece of paper!" Michael's mind is blank, he looks at Maxwell and Alex who have abandoned him completely and are heading to the door as Maria taps her foot against the hardwood floor and raises her eyebrow. The little alien antenna on the top of her head swaying back and fourth are distracting him from coming up with a logical explanation and instead of denying the accusations like he should, he stutters. Why, oh why did he stutter? It's the sure way to gain some form of physical abuse from Maria, she's a feisty little one despite her petiteness. She scoffs and aims to kick his shoe, gets his ankle instead and seems extremely pleased with herself. "You are SO not getting ass tonight, that's for sure," she mutters and walks off with her head held high like a lady. A lady in the streets and yes, a freak in the sheets.