Part 48

Maria was jolted awake the next morning at the ungodly hour of six a.m. when Michael jumped in bed beside her, nearly tossing her on the floor.

"Michael! Damn it, what're you doing?"

"At the moment?" He propped his elbow on the pillow and cradled his chin in his hand as his gaze traveled over what little he could see of her body. "Wonderin' if you're wearin' panties." She was wearing the tee shirt he had put on her after he had taken care of her that night in the park; she had never returned the shirt, choosing to keep it as her own and use it as a sleep shirt.

"No." She groaned and rolled over to bury her face in her pillow, blaming the slip on the early hour.

"Really?" He was intrigued. Normally that question earned him a glare as she told him to go to hell. He shook himself out of his thoughts; he wasn't interested in a cold shower before his morning run. "So, anyway, I hate to change the subject because, no panties? Sexy. But, that's not the point."

"God, if you have one, I wish you'd get to it."

"Right. Remember how I told you payback's a bitch?"

"What d'you want? Breakfast?"

"Nope. Wanna know what her name is?"

Maria rolled over to look at him in the pre-dawn light that was creeping in through the curtains. "What, Michael? What is her name?"

"Dawn."

"Oh, my God," she muttered. "I don't know anyone named Dawn and it's too early for riddles."

Michael grinned at her confusion; she was never coherent first thing in the morning and she'd only had about three hours of sleep. "Nah, you know 'er." He pointed at the window. "Dawn."

Maria shook her head and rolled back over. "I don't have time for this nonsense. I'm going back to sleep."

"You've got all day and night to sleep, woman. Get up and go runnin' with me."

Maria snorted as she burrowed deeper into the blankets. "Yeah, Michael, because that's gonna happen."

"Hmmm, so you'd rather we stayed in bed and slept in?" He shrugged and kicked his running shoes off. "Okay."

Maria jumped when cool air brushed against her bare legs and she rolled over, grabbing the blanket from him and holding it against her body. "What are you doing?"

"Well, if you won't go runnin' with me then I'll just hang out here and snuggle with you."

"You do not like to snuggle!"

He grinned lazily but his eyes were full of heat. "Part of me likes to snuggle."

"Fine. You win." She threw the covers back and climbed out of bed, careful to keep the tee shirt tugged down to cover herself. "I'm up," she growled as she hurried from the room.

Michael chuckled and glanced down at himself. "That makes two of us." He shook his head. "You'd better just calm down because we're goin' for a run and it's gonna suck for both of us to run in this condition." He got up and collected his shoes before going out to the living room to wait for her.

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Maria limped into the house an hour later, irritable and ready to take Michael's head off. "This is all your fault," she grumbled, shaking his hand off again.

"How is it my fault? I told you to be still, but no, you insisted on jumpin' outta the way."

"There was a snake on the path!"

"The fuckin' thing wasn't botherin' anybody," he shouted, slamming the door, "and if you had stayed still like I told you to do instead of jumpin' outta the way, the snake would've gone on its way and you wouldn't have fallen on your ass." He was pissed that she didn't trust him enough to stand still while he got the snake out of the way.

"You know why I moved, Michael? Because I've got a cramp in my leg and I couldn't stand still any longer!" She turned to glare at him. "I'm not used to running - "

"You said you stretched," he accused, returning her glare.

"Well, you know what? I lied!" She moved to limp past him when he suddenly scooped her up in his arms. "What're you doing? Put me down!"

He ignored her ranting and carried her into her bedroom, easing her down on the bed and sitting down by her feet. She had worn a pair of shorts so he had access to her leg and as he ran his fingertips along the back of her calf he could feel the knotted muscles. "Why didn't you say somethin'? You have any idea how badly you could've damaged the muscles by staying on this leg?"

"Ow!" Maria protested and tried to pull her leg out of his grasp.

"You just won't do anything the easy way, will you?" He tightened his grip on her ankle, shifting it to his lap as his right hand gently worked to unknot the muscles. "You should probably take a bath so you can soak this leg for a while."

Maria pulled her leg free of his grasp just as soon as the muscles relaxed. "I'll be fine after a shower."

"Why do you have to fuckin' argue with me over everything? I'm tryin' to tell you what to do so you'll feel better - "

"Because I can take care of myself!" God, she needed to get away from him! His touch was driving her insane! "I've had cramped muscles before!"

"I'll bet if you had been out with him," he snarled, snatching the picture frame off of the nightstand, "and he had told you to stand still you would've fuckin' stood still."

"Yeah, you know what? I probably would've." She stormed out of the room, still limping just a little because the muscles were tender.

It took every ounce of control for him to put the frame down without breaking it first. He was sick of being measured up to a dead man that he was never going to live up to no matter how hard he tried. He left the room, hands clenched into fists to prevent him from doing something that he'd regret.

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Maria avoided Michael for the rest of the morning, hiding out in her room so she wouldn't have to deal with his bad mood. The bad mood she was responsible for, she thought. She had taken the cheap shot earlier just to get away from him and she regretted it now that she'd had time to calm down and think about it.

She stood at the window and watched him as he carried engine parts back into the shop. He had gone out to the shop several hours ago and methodically carried every single thing outside before going back inside and cleaning the entire building out. She knew she had overreacted, taking everything he said and did as sexual overtures, but there was no excuse for her parting words to him.

She rubbed her hands over her face as she moved back away from the window. She owed him an apology and God only knew what he would expect as restitution. Dinner probably wasn't gonna do the trick this time because it wasn't just a matter of pissing him off; she had seen the brief moment of hurt before he had masked it. She sighed. That was just one more reason why it was getting so difficult to keep her distance with him.

He had never talked about whatever had happened to him the night he had gone out with Indigo in Santa Fe, but something had changed… something that had made him more approachable and harder to resist. She chewed on her thumbnail for several minutes before deciding that it was time to take the bull by the horns.

Michael was lifting the large piece of plywood that had served as a table off of the pair of sawhorses when she stepped down off of the deck. He ignored her as he carried it inside, putting it away and coming back for the sawhorses. He lifted the first one up, lining it up above the other one, and dropped it into place so he could carry both of them inside at the same time.

She stepped inside the dim interior of the shop and looked around, taking in the perfectly arranged items lying on his worktables. "Look, I know you're pissed - "

"Just leave it alone, Maria." Michael didn't bother turning away from the tools he was wiping down and carefully placing in the top drawer of the large toolbox. "You said what you had to say."

"I know, but I wanted to - "

"To what, Maria?!" he yelled as he slammed the wrench down in the metal drawer. "Did you wanna stick the knife a little deeper? I got the point, okay?"

Maria shook her head. "I wanted to apologize."

That caught his attention and he glanced over his shoulder to look at her. "For what? Remindin' me once again that I'm not as good as a dead man?"

"Michael, that's not…" She shook her head. "It was a cheap shot, and I shouldn't have taken it. The truth is I would've moved regardless because that muscle was cramping up too badly to stand still."

"Why're you tellin' me this?"

"Because I don't want you to think that I don't trust you; I have no doubts that I'm perfectly safe with you and I know that you'd never let anything happen to me."

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged and went back to wiping the tools down.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really." He rolled his shoulders back and pulled the next drawer out.

Maria bit her bottom lip as she watched him and she suddenly realized how to make an apology that he would accept. "Maybe a backrub would help?"

"Maybe." His tone was noncommittal. "I'll let you know after my shower."

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Michael still hadn't decided to take her up on her offer by the time dinner was ready several hours later. He had showered and changed, and then spent most of the afternoon studying a map and going through a stack of reports on his desk. He had completely focused on what he was doing and there wasn't any indication that he was aware of her presence.

He had made and received numerous phone calls throughout the day and she could tell from his end of the conversations that it wouldn't be long before he was given a green light for the mission. There was a different kind of tension settling over him and it was only increasing with each new call.

"Michael?"

He grunted but his gaze never left the open file lying on the desk.

Maria bit her bottom lip, worrying it with her teeth as she debated how to deal with him. She couldn't tell if he was being short with her because he was still mad at her or if it was just because his mind was on his upcoming mission. "Did you wanna just eat in here?"

"What?" Michael finally looked at her and shook his head. "What'd you say?"

"Dinner's ready."

"Oh." He glanced down when his phone rang again. "I'll be there in a minute." He hit the call button and brought the phone up to his ear. "Guerin," he barked into the mouthpiece.

Maria walked away slowly so she could listen to his side of the conversation. His temper quickly escalated as he disagreed with the person on the other end of the call. "No, I understand that, but 48 hours is pushin' it." He shook his head and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a sure sign that he was developing a headache. "No, I'm not sayin' we can't handle the mission," he snapped. "What I'm sayin' is the distance we've gotta cover would be pushin' a 48 hour limit if the trail was cleared; the rebel camp is located in a small valley at the base of - " His expression showed irritation when the caller interrupted him and he immediately started shaking his head. "I'm tellin' you you're cuttin' it too close!" He paced around the living room, his right arm waving maniacally as he argued with the caller.

He was beyond pissed by the time he disconnected the call and he quickly dialed a number and brought the phone back up to his ear. "Stone," he greeted, and immediately launched into a rant, "have you talked to that prick who's fillin' in while Xavier's out?" He nodded in agreement to whatever she said and his agitated pacing slowed by degrees. "You know 48 hours is pushin' it and we're fucked if we don't make the pickup time. I'm not interested in getting stranded down there." He shook his head, already not liking the odds they were looking at. "We wouldn't just be stranded in the jungle; we'd be stranded in the middle of rebel territory. We get caught down there and it's all over; motherfuckers aren't gonna keep us around and hold us for ransom."

Maria swallowed hard and went back into the kitchen. She wasn't used to Michael being so tense before leaving for one of his jobs; most of the time he didn't show any concern whatsoever. Seeing his reaction was making her worry and she couldn't help the fear that was residing in the center of her chest and affecting her ability to breathe or think about anything else.

She lifted her head when Michael came up behind her, his arms coming around her so he could cover her hands where they were gripping the edge of the counter.

"Don't worry about me," he said, his tone gruff. "I can't be over there, sneakin' through a jungle to rescue some idiot who never should've been there in the first place, thinkin' about you and knowin' you're makin' yourself sick with worry. I can't afford the distraction, Maria."

She nodded, swallowing hard as she pulled herself together, easing her hands out from under his as she turned to face him. "I'm not worried," she lied. "You can handle yourself in the field, I know that."

Michael nodded, knowing she was lying but not calling her on it. His gaze drifted down to her mouth and it was so tempting to just lean in and kiss her, but he forced his focus elsewhere. "What's for dinner?"

Relief warred with disappointment when he lowered his arms and moved away from her.
"Tilapia. It's a kind of fish." She shook her head and waved him toward the table. "You'll like it."

"No meat?"

"Fish is good for you."

"You said I'd like the salmon too, and I hated it."

"All fish does not taste like salmon." She shook her head as she placed a large piece of fish on each plate before adding a serving of angel hair pasta that she topped with mixed vegetables. "You liked the catfish."

Michael frowned at the plate she set in front of him. "Well, you fried it and there were French fries, too." He picked up his fork and poked the fish, frowning at the crunchy things that flaked off. "This is baked and there aren't any fries. And what's the crunchy stuff?"

"It's a parmesan crust. Just try it," she insisted as she sat down and placed a bowl with garlic rolls next to him. "If you don't like it I'll make you something else."