Part 2
The weather in New Mexico was uncomfortably warm for October and despite the threat of the thunderstorms the newscasters had been predicting Michael had insisted on going out. Maria walked beside him, listening to the sounds of nature around them in the absence of conversation. She had long ago gotten used to his silences, knowing that it was just part of his personality and he would break it when he was ready to talk.
They had left home nearly six months ago, running from the Special Unit of the F.B.I. who had descended upon their hometown with the intention of taking all six of them into custody. When things had calmed down and they had felt that they had finally shaken the agents trailing them they had settled down four hours from Roswell. It was as close as they dared to get to their families, afraid that something would tip off the F.B.I. and the chase would begin all over again.
They had agreed that it was too dangerous for all of them to settle in the same area so they had written the names of three different cities on strips of paper and tossed them in a hat. She and Michael had lucked out and gotten a small town in New Mexico. Liz and Max had pulled the name of a small town in Colorado, and Kyle and Isabel had gotten some small town in Texas. They were four hours from each other, safely hidden away in three different states.
Leaving everything that they knew behind hadn't been easy and there had been times in the beginning when she was sure she wasn't going to be able to stay on the run with Michael. They had fought constantly at first, with each other and any of the others who would engage them. It had been their way of dealing with the stress put on them by their situation, but one night they had come close to losing Michael when the F.B.I. had gotten too close and all of the arguing and fighting had come to an end.
The decision to stop running had been a joint one and it had been the best thing for them to do. She loved her best friend dearly, but if she had been forced to ride around with her and Max much longer she had been certain she was going to go insane. The couple hadn't been married that long and now that they could be together without worrying about Tess or their destiny they were worse than they had been during their whole tragic high school romance.
Isabel and Kyle were the odd couple, thrown together because they were each on their own. Isabel had married Jesse, a young lawyer in her father's firm, but he had stayed behind in Roswell when they had been forced to flee for their lives. She shook her head as her thoughts drifted back to Alex Whitman, one of her best friends and Isabel's true love. Alex wouldn't have let her go on the run, hiding from the F.B.I. and doing whatever was necessary to survive, without him. He wouldn't have stayed behind, but unfortunately, he had been killed by Tess in her quest to translate the stupid destiny book. She was convinced that Isabel had gotten involved with Jesse and married him because she was trying to avoid dealing with the loss of Alex.
Kyle had been unlucky enough to fall for Tess before they had discovered her traitorous actions and he hadn't been in any other relationships since that disaster. He had done his best to avoid having feelings for anyone else since then but Maria suspected that he wasn't nearly as unaware of Isabel as he would have everyone believe. She had wondered for a while if the two of them had turned to each other as a way to deal with the loneliness, but she had finally decided that if they had she couldn't blame them.
Tess had returned with the Granolith and hidden it in the cave where it had originally been hidden before her subsequent capture by the military. They had heard that she had died at the hands of her captors, but none of them had felt anything but relief that she was no longer a threat to them.
Her gaze finally settled on the man walking beside her, her eyes tracing over his beloved features. Michael was still difficult, he was still moody, but he had grown over the past few years and she couldn't imagine her life without him in it. He had been there for her no matter what was going on in their lives and she knew he would protect her with everything he had.
They had settled into their lives as well as they could, knowing that at any time they might have to pick up and run again. She trusted him to be there, to watch over her, and to keep her safe. More than that though, she loved him, and she no longer questioned whether or not he loved her because she knew that he did.
They lived in a small house outside of town, away from prying eyes and nosy questions. The house was miles away from their closest neighbor and they both felt that it was safer that way. Michael had been picky about the location, and she had lost count of how many houses they had looked at before he had been satisfied with this one. It was secluded and it gave him a place to work through his nervous energy and it allowed her the freedom to know he wasn't going to do something with his powers and risk being seen by someone other than her.
"What're you thinkin' about?" Michael asked, glancing at her when he felt her gaze on him.
"Just glad that we're together and that we're safe for the moment."
He grunted and turned to follow the trail that led out past the old riverbed that had been dry for many years. "This isn't the life that I ever imagined for you."
Maria sighed. She hated it when he fell into this contemplative mood, where he wondered if he had done the wrong thing by allowing her to go with him when they started running. "Do you really think I would've stayed if you had left me in Roswell?" she asked, shaking her head. "You know better than that; I would've gone after you and I would've found you, Michael."
He nodded, accepting the inevitability of her statement. "I suppose you're right."
"I'm always right." Her fingers tightened on his hand as she stopped, forcing him to stop with her or drag her behind him. "What's got you thinking like this again?"
"People at work, I guess. I was listenin' to 'em at lunch last night, talkin' about all the things they wanted to do when they were younger and how they'd finally just accepted things weren't gonna change after workin' at the factory for a while." He shrugged. "You're better than that, Maria. You deserve more than workin' at a damn factory in some crappy little town."
They both worked at the factory but they had different shifts so most days they had a couple of hours together at the most. It was rare that they got a day off together, and an entire weekend was unheard of, so she didn't want him to spend the time berating himself because life hadn't turned out the way they had imagined it would.
"Michael, it's not ideal, but if the only other option was not having you in my life, I'll gladly do this for the rest of my life. It's gonna get better."
"Yeah?"
"Hey, the second shift supervisor said they've got an opening coming up next month for third shift. That'll put us on the same shift so we'll have more time together."
He nodded. "Next month, huh?"
"Next month," she affirmed. "We'll be able to spend more time together once we get on the same shift." She nudged him with her arm as they started to walk again. "We'll be able to get away to see the others more often." She knew he missed their friends though he was reluctant to admit it.
"More interested in spendin' some quality time with you," he said, looking up when he heard the first clap of thunder roll across the sky. "Guess that storm's movin' in after all; let's head back before it gets started."
They walked along the trail, hurrying in an effort to beat the rain that the clouds were threatening to release at any moment. The first fat droplets of rain began to fall just as they ran through the front door and slammed it shut behind them.
"Y'know what we haven't done in too long?" he asked, leaning up against the closed door and pulling her to him.
"What?"
"Spent an entire day in bed." He lowered his head to kiss her, groaning when she melted against him and returned the kiss with every bit of passion she possessed.
"Now there's an offer that's too good to pass up." She smiled up at him as she stripped his shirt from him, tossing it on the floor beside them.
"No fair," he muttered teasingly. "You're overdressed."
"Guess I'd better do something about that." Her smile was wicked as she slowly eased each button through its respective buttonhole, leaving the panels hanging open as she leaned forward to press against him.
"You are so cheatin'." His hands settled at her waist and he lifted her up, turning to press her back against the door when her legs locked around his waist. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he growled.
Maria buried her hands in his unruly hair and dragged his mouth back to hers. "I know exactly what I do to you," she said, the words muffled against his lips. It had taken so long to get him to a point where he was this comfortable with her and with himself. "You gonna spend all day talking or you gonna take me to bed?"
Michael chuckled at her impatient tone and removed her shirt, dipping his head to press a kiss against the swell of her breast before turning to carry her down the hall to their bedroom. "I think you're addicted to sex," he laughed.
"I'm addicted to sex with you," she corrected him, pressing one hand against the wall to keep him from bumping into it since he was incapable of carrying her and walking a straight line at the same time. "You've ruined me for any other man."
A self-satisfied smirk lit up his features as he crossed the threshold to their bedroom. "I've got that same addiction, so I hope you don't expect an apology."
"You're addicted to sex with yourself?" She giggled at his expression. "I knew working different shifts had seriously cut into our time together, but I wasn't aware things had gotten to that point."
Michael groaned when she twisted his words around intentionally but he couldn't help the laughter that escaped him in response to her teasing expression. She was the one person who could make him smile no matter what the situation was and she always managed to find a way to make him believe that anything was possible.
"I think you've been spending too much time alone here lately."
He lifted one eyebrow in question.
"We're both half-naked, in our bedroom, and we're still standing here talking." She smiled brightly when he carried her over to the bed and turned, falling back on the mattress with her on top of him. "That's more like it."
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Maria enjoyed being the first to wake up early the next morning and she propped herself up on one elbow as she watched Michael sleeping so peacefully. He rarely slept so well, plagued by nightmares where he was faced with the abusive foster father who had beaten him on a regular basis during his childhood, or where one or more of them had been captured and/or killed by their F.B.I. pursuers.
They had spent the day in bed, making love until they had fallen into an exhausted sleep late the night before. Most of the time they were doing good if they were able to manage sex a few times a week between their hectic schedules, which made rare days like the one before so special. They had one more day to spend together and Michael had insisted that she not let him sleep late and waste their time.
He shifted, his body automatically seeking hers out even in sleep and he settled down just as soon as she moved closer to him. She watched him for a while longer before getting up to shower and go start breakfast, knowing that he wouldn't be far behind.
Less than an hour later Michael joined her in the kitchen, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. "Mornin'," he greeted gruffly as he rasped his stubbled chin against the sensitive skin of her neck. "How're you feelin'?"
"Sore in all the right places," she said, turning in his arms to kiss him good morning.
"It's been a while hasn't it?" He released her when she motioned back towards the stove and breakfast. "I'll set the table."
They discussed different things over breakfast and then cleaned up before heading out for a walk. The air smelled fresh and clean after the rain the day before and the cooler air felt good against their skin. They talked about everything and nothing as they carefully stepped over limbs brought down by the storm. There were more trees in this part of New Mexico and it had taken some time to get used to seeing so much green around them.
"We should go see Max and Liz soon," Maria said as they stepped around a small tree that had been knocked over by the strong winds.
"Thanksgiving's comin' up here pretty soon; maybe we can get together then. Y'know, all six of us; we'd probably have to meet somewhere neutral, but we could do it."
Maria nodded when he agreed, a bit surprised that he hadn't tried to talk her out of it.
"Hey, do you hear that?" he asked, drawing her out of her thoughts.
"What?"
"The river! It's been dry for years!"
Maria rushed to keep up with him when he ran along the trail towards the rocky overhang that looked down over the riverbed. "Michael, I don't see what the big deal is; it's just runoff after the storm. It'll be dried up again in a few days."
"You've gotta admit that's pretty impressive, Maria." Michael stood on the overhang looking down at the water rushing between the banks of the shallow riverbed. "I mean, it's been dry for years and suddenly it's - "
Maria's eyes widened when the ground beneath his feet suddenly gave out and he fell through empty air to land at the bottom of the ravine with a sickening sound. "Michael!" she screamed as she ran to what was left of the overhang to look down. His body was lying at an angle that wasn't normal and she could see a pool of blood creeping from beneath his body to stain the rocky ground.
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After nearly seven hours on the road Michael was parched and ready to stop for the night. He had left L.A. around ten o'clock that morning, intending to make a pit stop at the Lucky 7, a bar on the west side of a small town outside of Flagstaff. The bar was in the perfect location; across the street from a cheap hotel and next door to a small restaurant that served the best breakfast anywhere in the state of Arizona.
He parked the Harley-Davidson in the space directly in front of the bar, completely disregarding the sign indicating that the space was reserved for handicapped persons. He snorted derisively as he dismounted, pulling a multi-tool out of his pocket and removing the two screws that held the sign in place. He tossed the small metal sign on the ground, face-down, and stepped on it for good measure as he walked up to the front door of the bar.
He stepped inside, not bothering to hold the door for the people entering behind him. He scanned the people scattered around the room, some in groups and some alone, frowning when he noticed that there was no shortage of ugly women.
"Hey, honey."
Michael turned his head to look at the woman who had just spoken and shook his head as he gave her the once-over. Her voice was the only thing she had going for her and that wasn't enough to interest his dick. "Go back to your cave." He walked off before she had the opportunity to speak up in her defense. Not that there was a defense for anything that ugly, he thought irritably. He stepped up to the bar and motioned for the bartender standing at the other end to join him.
Gus D'Angelo was a short, stocky Italian man who had served in the same unit with the man rudely gesturing for him to hurry up. They had spent several months together in a war-torn Africa, doing things that no one should ever be asked to do. Michael Guerin was not typical in any sense of the word; he was an asshole and he was proud of it. He was hot-tempered and cold-blooded, he didn't care what anyone thought, and he said what he was thinking without regard for anyone's feelings.
"What're you doin' in my part of the world, Guerin?" he asked, pulling out one of the imported non-alcoholic beers the man preferred.
"Just passin' through," Michael answered, taking a long drink from the ice-cold bottle. "I was intendin' to stop overnight, get laid, have dinner, crash for a few hours, and be on my way." He pointed around the bottle clutched in his right hand. "What the hell is this, Gus? You've got so many ugly bitches in here that my dick's havin' second thoughts - "
"Keep it down, will ya? You're gonna run all the payin' customers off." Gus didn't know why he hadn't tossed the other man out and told him to never come back when he had first discovered the Lucky 7. "Change up your itinerary and come back in a couple of hours."
"You gonna have somethin' better in here later?" He looked around in disgust. There wasn't a single woman in the place that he'd fuck, not even if he was drunk and blindfolded.
Gus kept his voice low as he spoke. "It's a little bit early for the good-lookin' ones to be out an' about. Come back after six."
"Fine."
"Hey, you can't walk outta here with that," he yelled when the other man headed for the door.
"Call a cop," Michael muttered, moving through the people milling around. Stepping out into the sunlight he slid his sunglasses back on and started to cross the street.
"Let me guess, this would be your motorcycle."
Michael paused, standing in the middle of the lane as he turned to face the woman who had spoken. His hidden gaze raked over the well-endowed police officer, noting that she was curved in all the right places. Of course, the best-looking piece of ass in this crappy little town would be a cop. "What if it is? You gonna write me a ticket? Arrest me?" He glanced over his shoulder when a car swerved to miss him and he flipped them off before turning his attention back to her.
"You do realize parking here is a serious offense."
"Parkin' here was a convenience and one that I don't think should be reserved for people simply because they're handicapped. The fact that you're not naked, ridin' my dick, and screamin' my name…" He grinned wolfishly. "Now that is a serious offense, but one we can easily remedy."
"Yeah, let's remedy that," she said, pulling a pair of handcuffs out and letting them dangle from her fingertips as she sashayed over to him.
"That's what I'm talkin' about." Michael was reaching for the handcuffs when she suddenly grabbed his arm, twisted it, and slammed him face-first up against the closest vehicle. The bottle of beer fell to the ground and shattered as he lost his grip on it, and the handcuffs pinched his wrists when she closed them as tightly as possible. "What the fuck are you doin'?"
"We're goin' for a little ride, smartass."
Three hours later Michael was ready to explode from sheer boredom. Officer Bitch had tossed him in an empty cell in the equally empty holding area and apparently forgotten the entire booking process. He didn't know what kind of law enforcement this was supposed to be, but he was already mentally putting his lawsuit together.
"Had time to cool down yet?"
"So, Officer Bitch has returned." He turned away from the wall, scowl set firmly in place. "What's up with the - " His words lodged in his throat when he got a good look at the woman in front of him. She was no longer wearing a uniform; she had changed into a red dress that fit her shapely form like a second skin and flattered every curve. It also revealed that she wasn't wearing a damn thing under it. He watched her as she closed the distance between them and the only thing separating them was the bars of his cell. "What're you doin'?"
"You," she answered throatily.
"And you couldn't do that without arrestin' me?"
"Baby, you're not the type to sit around and wait for a woman, and I could tell you're not gonna be around past morning."
"So you arrested me?"
"I didn't arrest you. I just put you in a cage so you wouldn't waste this on someone who probably wouldn't have appreciated it anyway." Her grin was predatory as she reached between the bars and cupped his crotch.
"I think this constitutes sexual harassment."
"And I think you're pissed because you're used to doing the harassing." She shook her head, amused by his dark expression. "Don't worry, no one's stepping all over your Alpha male toes," she assured him as she unlocked the door and slid it open.
Michael grabbed her arm and hauled her into the cell, pinning her against the bars and kissing her roughly as he worked his right leg between her thighs. "Let's get one thing straight," he growled. "I don't do bondage unless you wanna be on the receiving end, I don't do that whole mornin' after shit, and it's highly doubtful that I'll remember your name after tonight."
"I could care less whether you remember my name or not." Her eyes rolled back in her head when he shoved the low neckline of her dress aside to take a rosy nipple into his mouth. "The only thing I'm interested in is whether or not you're as good as you think you are."
"We can do hard and fast right here and now, or we can take some time and you can experience multiple orgasms that'll blow your mind, your choice."
"Why don't we start with hard and fast," she whispered huskily, blindly reaching for his belt and releasing it. "We've got all night for the rest of it."
This was the way it was supposed to go down, Michael thought. No strings, no interest in anything but gratifying sex, and she was just as aggressive as he was.