Disclaimer: Okay disclaimer time! I do not now nor have I ever owned anybody or anything related to Roswell except for a bottle of Tabasco sauce that I purchased at my local Vons store. I don't own Vons either. If I did I'd be rich and out doing something not writing this! Or maybe I'd just be rich.
Author's Note: This is a story I wrote years ago and posted on Roswell Underground, may it forever rest in peace. There's a song fic of mine there still, that I daren't post here for fear of account explosion, under the name Cordy. This is M&M, and such a lovely memory of a show that never got the credit it deserved. Enjoy.
Maria sat in the center of her bed, uneasy and unsure. The darkness was overpowering and the sounds of the storm outside were unpleasant, to say the least. Tendrils of fear snaked their way through her chest, gripping her shoulder with icy fingers, and making her fingers tingle and shake in anticipation of something, anything, for them to do, scratch at, maim, and destroy. Her hair was wet and chilling her in the non-heated house. A bolt of lightning illuminated the room and Maria gasped.
"Okay," she started jumping at the sound of her voice in relation to the storm outside. "Okay, this is stupid, sitting here in a pool of covers that are going to do absolutely nothing to help me. I am stronger than this. Storms and blackouts mean nothing to me. I can just hop up right now easy as can be-- ACK!" The second her foot tapped the floor an ill-timed or perhaps ironically well-timed slam of thunder rocked the room and sent her squealing back into the sheets.
"Get up!" she hissed to herself. "Go down the hall and into the living room. You need to get to the phone." She waited until the next charge of lightning had faded and then darted down the hallway kamikaze style, her blankets trailing behind her, casualties of an internal war.
Maria took a wildly off-balance nosedive into the couch cushions and tugged the blankets over her head once more. She snapped on her flashlight and waited for the thunder to subside. In her next madcap dash she found the cell phone and swooped down on it after rolling into a tuck and hiding under the table 'till the lightning stopped. Once she had made it back to the couch she felt rather silly. After all she was Hurricane DeLuca! She should have caused blackouts like this! Then the thunder voiced its opinion and Maria shut up.
The buttons on the phone beeped frantically as she dialed her mom's cell phone.
"Mom?"
"Are you okay?"
"What do you mean why-- eep!"
"Yes I'm still scared of thunderstorms."
"No."
"No."
"No."
"NO!"
"I just wanted to see if you were okay!"
"See you next Tuesday. Love you. I-EE!"
"I'm fine."
"You too."
"Bye."
Maria, huddled amidst her bedclothes, began to hate herself for always checking on her mom. Like her mom needed or wanted her to do that. Right now she was in sunny San Diego at a craft convention advertising for the store. Not even bothering to call and see if her only daughter was dead or alive. They had to have newspapers over there in sunny CA, and those newspapers had to be broadcasting the huge storms wracking New Mexico, Roswell in particular. Shouldn't her mother be concerned with how terrified her daughter is in a blackout in thunder?
"Well, she's not, Maria, so forget it already." Maria shook her head resignedly as she muttered this.
Meanwhile the tempest raged savagely on outside.
Across town someone was worried about Maria. He was pacing up a storm of his own in his small apartment, banging into things in the inky blackness and cursing himself for not just picking up the phone and calling her.
"She's SO afraid of thunder! Get over yourself and go." Michael locked up the apartment and slid into his bedroom carefully so as not to run himself unconscious on some shifty wall. He sat on the bed, concentrating deeply. When he felt the familiar tug on his molecules, he allowed them to fly apart and focused on bringing them together again in a very different setting.
Maria had retired to her bedroom, feeling dreadfully alone and pitifully sad. She had called Michael's apartment only to find no one there. Now the worry was creeping up her stomach and causing emotional heartburn. "It's like a tundra in here! The heater must have frozen again," she thought. The flashlight clicked on once more and Maria padded her way to the living room to fix it.
Lightning illuminated the room and the flashlight fell from nerveless fingers as she became paralyzed with fear. Organs were appearing in her house and thunder was crashing down on her head as if the storm was inside her house and there was no ceiling between them.
Meanwhile, the organs had grown bones and muscles and skin and Maria realized, as the silhouette was grafted against the curtains, that there was only one being in existence that could have hair like that. The rain pounded the glass and the wind howled with Maria as she called his name.
"Michael! What are you doing here! Are you okay? I-- eep!" Maria cut herself off with a yelp. She scurried to the wall and pressed her back against it. Michael watched from the glow of the fallen flashlight.
"I'm here to..." he paused, unsure of why he was actually there. What was he going to do? Sing over the thunder? "Well, actually, I'm not sure, but I guess to check on you?"
Maria broke into a watery and yet still wry grin. "You make it sound like I'm supposed to know what you're doing here. I asked first, buster."
Michael chuckled. "Whatever. How about some light?" Michael's hands began to glow a soft, translucent blue. He trailed them along the walls, making them catch the brazen color. It was like having phosphorescent paint on black lit walls. Maria stared around in gleeful wonder at the gleam filling the room dimly. She squealed, partly from the thunder, partly from the effect, and dragged Michael through every room in the house, demanding him to, as she put it, "blue up the house."
"After all," she taunted as they headed into her bedroom. "Blueing up things is what you do best!"
"Oh yeah?" The glow on his hands faded into a deep rich purple and he reached for her menacingly. She hopped onto the bed, scooting away. He pounced with a large Cheshire grin.
"Oh, Michael, no! No! Noooooo!" She giggled wildly as he slid his hands down her arms. She was glowing like an electric eggplant. He ran his hands through her soft pixie hair, and she could see it shimmering from the corners of her eyes. "No! Not the 'do! Anything but the 'do!" Maria cried.
Michael paused in his motion of making her ears a rather unnatural shade of plum and gazed into her face, searching. "Anything?" His voice was heavy with want and he brought his hand up to the hem of her shirt.
Her huge green eyes widened and she nodded slowly. He slid his hand under the soft silk of her pajama's top and traced small patterns onto her stomach with his fingers. He drew his hand to her lips and investigated them with his luminescent fuchsia fingertips. It was all too much to handle without kissing him, so she did. Michael pressed his palm against her neck and tucked her tighter against him. They rolled and Maria was now straddling his chest. She pulled away, flopping onto her back beside him. He turned to face her concerned and slightly frustrated because of the amazing effect the brilliant purple lips were having on him when not on him.
"I feel like Barney," she giggled and shook her vibrant violet mane. He laughed and kissed her again, rubbing her cheek with an un-purple thumb. He pulled back, smirking at her sound of protest and studied her meticulously.
"You don't look like Barney. I think I like it."
"Oh god. If I have to dress up like a damn singing dinosaur to turn you on things are in BAD shape!"
"I DON'T think you look like a dinosaur! I wouldn't like you if you were dressed like a dinosaur!"
"You mean you'd stop loving me if I had to dress up like that? Isn't personality what matters?"
"Oh God. Just shoot me. And make sure Max isn't there to do anything stupid like try to save me from it. I fell right into it."
"Yup. That's what you get for turning me lavender."
"Would you rather be... kiwi?"
"Eeep!"
Much, much later...
One exhausted pixie and one exhausted extraterrestrial cuddled, listening to the pitter pat of the rain. The pixie was blonde once more and her lips were their regular shade of rose. The alien guy was hugging her to him and happy he had come. Suddenly, the small girl noticed something.
"The thunder stopped!" she said happily. He kissed her softly and smiled at her adorableness. She stroked his chest lightly and they both drifted off.
When the morning came, Maria woke first to get her stuff ready for school. When she looked at the bed she saw a drowsy Michael reaching for the empty spot where she had been during the night. A soft chuckle and good morning kiss was what he got instead. He stared up at her and grinned.
"Best night sleep I've had in a long time Barney--er-- Blondie!"
"Oh, blue yourself up Spaceboy!"
She slammed into the bathroom and he winced, remembering something he had forgotten to erase last night.
"MICHAEL!" Her wail echoed the glowing purple word penned on her stomach, and Michael realized that the gale last night was nothing compared to the Hurricane DeLuca he was about to receive. He laid back, satisfied, and beamed realizing that he just wouldn't have it any other way.