Author's Note: A few lines in this part were borrowed from the episode Graduation.

Part 14

Michael closed and locked the door behind him, his movements quiet in the hope that he wouldn't wake Maria up. He grabbed one of the dining chairs and wedged it up under the doorknob before he was satisfied that anyone trying to get in that way would make plenty of noise. He thought about Maggie as he shrugged out of the coat, shaking the snow off it and then hanging it up on one of the hooks behind the door. He shoved the gloves in the pockets before rubbing his hands together. He glanced at the bed and frowned when he realized Maria wasn't there.

His gaze moved to the open bathroom doorway and he walked over to the right side of the bed, emptying his pockets out and setting his wallet, the van receipt and Maggie's picture on top of the books there. One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile as he thought about the little girl's disappointed expression when she'd realized he and Kyle had come back without the girls. Julia had patiently explained that they would make one batch of cookies and save the rest for the next day when the girls came up to the house.

He suddenly remembered the cookies Julia had wrapped and Maggie had given to him after he had put his coat on. He walked over to his coat and pulled the cookies out, carrying them over to the nightstand and sitting them with his things. He smiled as he thought about the little girl's expression as she had handed them to him. Maggie was the baby in the family and she was well-loved, but it was obvious that Julia and Edward were the parents. Little Maggie Stevens didn't rule the house with a pout or with tears. He could appreciate their ability to balance discipline and love and it was apparent their children benefitted from that.

The sound of water sloshing caught his attention and he wandered over to lean against the doorframe between the bathroom and the main room of the cabin. He crossed his arms over his chest as his eyes traveled over what little he could see of Maria's profile. She was reclining in the water as she read a book and he couldn't miss the color in her cheeks from the warm water. He tilted his head, trying to make out the title of the paperback. "What're you readin'?"

Maria tipped her head back to look up at him and she angled the book to make the title visible to him. "The Fugitive."

He snorted quietly as he shook his head. "Appropriate." He stood there for a moment, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he glanced around the room. It wasn't until his second visual pass of the room that he noticed it. "So, you like the tub?" She had never gotten into his, he thought as he braced one hand on the opposite side of the doorframe.

"It's not creepy like yours." She glanced up at him when she heard a familiar sound and her gaze dropped to his hand. "Oh, c'mon, Michael, stop with the scratching noises."

"What?" He glanced at his hand and frowned. "I'm not doin' anything, Maria."

"Yeah, right. I'm not fallin' for that."

He stepped away from the doorway and held his hands up. "Now do you believe me?"

"Shhh, be quiet for a minute."

Silence.

She smiled knowingly at him before turning her attention back to her book.

Michael shook his head at her and started moving her things around on the sink, looking for his toothbrush.

Scratch, scratch, scratch

Maria looked up, watching him for a few moments before realizing that it wasn't him. "Michael."

"It's probably a mouse," he mumbled around his toothbrush. Now, where was the toothpaste?

She dropped the book on the floor to grip the sides of the bathtub. "Did you see a mouse?"

Scratch, scratch, scratch

Her eyes darted around the room searching for the thing. "There it is again… it sounds like it's comin' from under the tub!"

Michael just shook his head. "Cabinet under the sink."

Scratch, scratch, scratch

She heard the sound again and bolted up out of the water. "Michael!"

He jerked around in response to her panicked tone and he caught sight of her standing there, naked and flushed from the heat as droplets of water trailed along flesh no other man had ever touched. His lips parted, his breath stuttering in and out as arousal slammed into him. His fingers curled until he could feel his nails biting into his palms and he inhaled slowly in an effort to bring himself under control. It was probably the most normal setting they had been in since before the Billy thing, he realized. He grabbed the soft turquoise towel off of the side of the sink and shook it out. "It's not under the tub," he said as he held it open for her. "I'm sure of it."

She wrapped the towel around herself as she peered over the edge of the bathtub. "Then where is it?"

Michael turned and opened the cabinet door under the sink, catching the little critter as it attempted to skitter past him. He held the little white-footed mouse up by its tail, studying the twitching whiskers and the beady black eyes staring back at him. "Here it is." He could feel the tremors in the little creature's body, empathizing with its fear at being captured. It was just looking for food and warmth, nothing more. "He's not botherin' anybody," he said with a shrug. He leaned over and put the mouse back under the sink before closing the cabinet door and walking out of the room.

Maria shook her head. Great, now she was going to have to share space with a rodent.

Michael dropped down in one of the overstuffed chairs in the living area, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he reached for the remote for the little 15-inch television in the corner. He surfed for all of ten seconds, rounding the available channels twice before landing on the game. He turned the chair slightly and shifted around until he could prop his feet up on the matching chair, propping his elbow on the armrest and staring at the game.

She finished up in the bathroom and dressed in one of his tee shirts before going out into the living area where he had settled in front of the television. There was a time when she would've just curled up in his lap without a second thought but now she found herself hesitating. For the first time in half a year they were alone, sharing a warm cozy little cabin and she suddenly realized just how awkward she felt with him.

Without the constant pressure of running, looking over their shoulders, without the constant presence of the others just an arms-length away, there was nothing to preoccupy her thoughts. Nothing but Michael and what their relationship was… if it was. They had been together since graduation but he was holding a big part of himself back. He had forgiven her for what she had put him through before that but she wasn't sure he trusted her anymore.

In the bathroom she had been naked and his response had been to hand her a towel. After he had averted his gaze, she realized. He had looked away. That was just one more piece of evidence that things weren't right between them. Michael was a guy, and not the kind who passed the buffet without filling his plate. Ungh, great analogy, Maria. She shook her head at her thoughts. "I think I'm gonna go to bed," she said after several minutes.

Michael nodded and motioned to the fireplace without looking away from the television. "I'm gonna wait for the fire to die down."

"Right, well…" She fidgeted in place for a moment before leaning over the chair to give him a kiss. "G'night then."

"Night."

She climbed into bed and curled up under the blankets, missing him so much it was almost a physical ache. He was barely a dozen feet away and it might as well have been a thousand miles. She rolled over, trying to find a comfortable spot and her gaze landed on a small wrapped package on his side of the bed and she stretched her arm out, reaching for it. She brought it closer and as she breathed in deeply she could smell the sweet aroma.

Christmas cookies, she thought with a smile. The silence in the cabin was heavy and she latched onto the first thing that came to mind to end it. "I forgot we were supposed to go back to the house to make cookies with Maggie," she said as she put the little package back.

The ensuing silence was broken only by the sports announcer's voice and after several minutes she lay back down, accepting that he wasn't going to say anything. She was staring up at the ceiling with tears of frustration in her eyes when she heard him speak quietly, his voice low and gruff.

"She missed you…"

Her heart clenched in her chest. She wasn't dense, she knew he was talking about himself and using Maggie to tell her what he was feeling. Her gaze lifted to the nightstand when she heard the soft metallic rasp as the chain on Michael's wallet slithered down to settle against the surface. The sound combined with her loneliness and the ache of missing him, both physically and emotionally threw her back to a roadside park on a sunny day in October.

She had been irritated with him for manhandling her, angry that once again her status as the only human in the group was making him question her ability to take care of herself. Was he yelling at Isabel or Liz? No, he had singled her out. She could hear his wallet chain slapping against his thigh in tandem with his harsh breathing as he stalked across the park, pulling her along behind him like a wayward child. It had pissed her off even more.

He had stopped without a word, turning and crowding her until she could feel the bark of the tree at her back digging into her skin. Heat rolled off of him and his eyes blazed furiously as he screamed in her face. It wasn't until she focused on his reddened face and the glistening in his eyes that certain words began to filter past the anger.

You assume because I'm not one of you that I don't understand… The words had been on the tip of her tongue, ready to argue with him, to fling her own thoughts in his face but what he was saying suddenly sank in as she saw the fear mixed in with the anger in his eyes. Her temper had faded in response to the fierce look on his face. For just a moment she had been standing at the window in her bedroom in the home she had grown up in, staring out at the boy who had come to her on a rainy night. He had been in pain that night, but this time it was pain born of fear… fear for her.

She had reached up, her fingers brushing his face as she used her thumb to wipe away the tear that was threatening to spill over. She hadn't seen him move but she felt his lips crush against hers hotly, forcing the air from her lungs as he pressed her into the tree. She had ripped at his shirt in search of skin, desperately needing to touch him.

She had come up gasping for air as he jerked his arms behind his back, fighting his way free of his jacket. His mouth was on hers again, his spicy tasting tongue slipping past her lips to duel with hers. His arms came around her after he threw his jacket on the ground and she was barely aware of him pulling her away from the tree as she threaded her fingers through his long hair. Her free arm had come around him when he pulled her up against his hips and she drew air into her oxygen-starved lungs.

She had thrown her head back, releasing a low moan when his lips had brushed along her neck to suck on the flesh at her throat. His hips had pushed into her before he lowered her to the denim-covered spot on the ground, heard him say her name hoarsely as he battled with his belt and zipper. With his other hand he had shoved the skirt of her sundress up, raging desire removing any possibility for finesse.

His eyes that were dark with hunger, want and need were tearing freely, his face was red with exertion and every breath was being torn from his lungs. The need in his eyes was so striking it wounded her heart. She had whispered his name, clinging to his shoulders and reaching up to pull him closer as his lips claimed hers once more in a kiss that for all its roughness was tempered with love. The tears leaking from his eyes had slid down over his cheeks to mingle with his kisses, giving them a salty taste and making them sting.

For just a moment she had felt their connection open up and she was privy to his thoughts… or at least a single memory before he pulled back slightly. She swallowed hard as she saw herself looking at him saying words that she wished she could take back. "We're no longer linked." She could feel him trying to pull back emotionally, knew he felt out of control in that capacity, and it hurt that he wanted to shut her out. Her fingers had threaded through his, hoping that it would prevent him from fully pulling away from her. He guarded his emotions, his heart, so closely and she knew it was her fault that he felt he needed to protect himself from her now.

Later, after she had collapsed into his arms he had held her for a few brief bittersweet minutes. As she lay there in the safe cocoon of his embrace she became aware of the sweet scent of the grass and her gaze drifted over the leaves that had drifted down from the trees overhead. The cry of a bird came from overhead, a lonely sound that tugged at her heart as he gently set her aside and got up.

He had issued a terse, "Stay here", and then walked away, leaving her feeling stunned, like she'd just been hit by a storm and tossed around by it until it became a gentle rain. That storm had suddenly come back full force with the realization that they had just made love without using protection. She started frantically doing the math in her head. She had been PMSing all day, which had only heightened her reaction to him with the argument and with what they had just done. She shelved that worry when she heard footsteps approaching, the sound accompanied by the quiet metallic rasp of his wallet chain.

When he had returned he had taken care of her, his hands gentle and caring as he had uttered an apology. Her eyes fell to the grass as she slowly shook her head. She didn't want him to be sorry. She didn't want him to feel like that, not where this was concerned.

He had pulled a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt out of the bag before taking her hand and helping her up. "Kinda cool for a dress," he had muttered as he held the clothes out to her. It wasn't until that moment that she had noticed that in spite of the sun shining brightly the air was cool.

It was later when she and Michael had been sitting at the back of the van, still slightly shocked over the intensity of that moment that she had realized that she couldn't recall what the cop had even looked like. She could remember pushing the door of the station open, trying to balance everything, and nearly walking right into the cop. Mirrored sunglasses, a badge that caught the sunlight and drew attention to it, a holstered gun on his right hip… she had no other recall of the man that had unknowingly triggered fear in them.

She sighed as she shifted slightly, still trying to find a comfortable spot. The bed itself was heaven but without Michael to share it with she might as well have been sleeping on the floor.

Michael stared at the television but his mind wasn't on the game. His thoughts were on the woman behind him, his body achingly aware of every sound she made. Things had never been cleared up between them and even now he was still uneasy about her decision to leave with him. She had literally been under the gun when she had made her decision and it still bothered him.

He could still remember that night with perfect clarity. Graduation night, the desert air was cool as they met to determine their next course of action. She had stated that she was going with them and he had insisted she think about what she was saying, worried about what could happen to her if she went, worried about what could happen to her if she stayed. Worried that she would regret it later. She had lifted her chin as she walked over to him.

"I have, and… this is my choice. This is what I want. And… whatever that is in the end, that's what it'll be… but… we're doing it together."

They were exhausted from the months of running and their lives were miserable. He wanted to offer her so much more than this crazed existence. Her choice of words still bothered him though.

"Whatever that is in the end…"

That uncertainty combined with the grim reality of their situation kept him from making any assumptions where she or their relationship was concerned. It wasn't the only thing holding him back though. He wasn't ready to just lay his heart out there for her again. She had walked away from him before and then turned around and slept with him only to tell him later that it had meant nothing. He had tried not to let it show but that had hurt.

The sound of plastic cracking drew his attention to the remote in his crushing grip. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. There was a crack running across the surface of the remote, dividing the numbers on the keypad. He'd have to have Max fix that, he thought as he set it on the table where he'd found it.

His mind once more turned to Maria and he sighed as he stood up and turned the television off. She had to take the first step. Until he knew what she really wanted he wasn't going to be able to fully risk his heart again by laying it out there completely.

Maria's eyes opened to darkness when the mattress dipped and she felt Michael slip into bed beside her. She could almost hear him holding his breath as he waited to see if he had woke her up. She felt him shift, trying to get comfortable and becoming stationary after a few moments. She could feel the distance between them acutely and she squeezed her eyes shut against the ache of loneliness.

Michael frowned at the ceiling. His feet were hanging off the end of the too-short bed and he could feel the already cooling air creeping under the edge of the covers. He rolled over and bent his knees, tucking them in behind Maria's and draping his arm over her waist. It took less than a heartbeat for her to scoot back and as her arm settled over his she linked their fingers and he heard her sigh. Content, relieved, he didn't know. The one thing he knew for certain was that he loved her. He was just too much of a realist to think it was the only thing that mattered.