“Hey.” Maria nodded at Liz who was leaning in the doorway separating the store from the studio.

“How are you doing?”

“Okay. Came home, showered. The store’s been pretty busy – so that’s kept my mind off things.”

“Things got kind of quiet after you left.” Liz moved into the room, closing the door behind her.

“I meant it, Liz,” Maria warned. She sat down in a chair and began to fiddle with the broken clasp of a necklace. “I’m getting back to my own life. I can’t be concerned with trying to keep this store running, and being at his beckon call.”

“I don’t think that’s what Michael wants.” Liz frowned.

“You know what? I don’t care anymore,” Maria snapped. She glanced up for a moment, then turned her attention back to her work. “He can throw me off all the cliffs he wants. I don’t care,” she muttered under her breath.

“Maria…” The brunette reached over and touched her friend’s arm. “It’s not like he’s doing it consciously.”

Tossing the necklace on the table, Maria leaned back into her chair and rubbed her temples. “Liz, I know you’re only trying to help. But… I just need some time to myself. Sort stuff out… things like that.”

“Okay.” Liz nodded. “Just… just don’t shut me out, okay?”

Sensing her best friend’s concern, Maria smiled. “Okay.”

**

Michael walked into the small store, looking for Maria amid the customers milling about. He was still apprehensive about coming here, and it was obvious in his whole aura. That Lucy girl was helping someone, and he didn’t want to come right out and ask where Maria was. After all, he didn’t know how many horrible stories she’d been told about him. He stood in the middle of the crowd, trying to look interested in a pair of small topaz earrings on a wall display.

“OH! So are you here to get the engagement ring?” Lucy appeared at his side, greeting him with a grin bordering on psychotic. He started to understand why Maria didn’t trust the store to the girl for long periods of time.

“No… no.” Michael shook his head, stepping back. “Is, uh, Maria here?”

“Maria?” The girl asked, her surprised voice rising above the murmurs of the people perusing.

At the sound of Lucy’s voice, Maria opened the door and looked out to see if she needed help. Michael caught her eye, and raised his eyebrows in hopes that she would talk to him. Crossing her arms, she groaned to her best friend. “What is *he* doing here?”

Liz peeked out the door and smiled at Michael. “I, um, drove him.”

“Liz.”

“Just listen to him, Maria. Please.”

“I told you, I told him, I’m not listening anymore.”

Standing against the small doorframe, Liz cocked her head. “Just talk to him. You owe *yourself* that. I can’t see you go through all that just to fall apart again. Maria, I’m so afraid that you will retreat back into that bubble. I’m so afraid that I’m going to lose you again. We both know that it’s not over. At least, maybe, if you talk… it’ll be a little better.”

Maria narrowed her eyes at the brunette, then back out at the fidgety young man in her store. Sighing harshly, she turned back to Liz. “Go help Lucy,” she said, and walked back into her studio.

Liz motioned for Michael to follow Maria, then joined Lucy behind the counter.

**

“Two minutes.”

Michael closed the door and leaned against the worktable just inside the studio. Maria’s back was to him, her voice calling behind her when she heard him enter. He didn’t say anything, waiting for her to turn around.

“One minute, fifty seconds.”

Groaning, he grasped the edge of the table tighter. Her head was bent over the small desk, working on some other piece of jewelry. She spoke to him as if she couldn’t care less if he stayed or left. Just when he thought that they’d reached some sort of understanding, Maria would show him how cold she could really be. It was a defense mechanism – he knew that, but it always got to him.

“You’re right.”

The chair spun around with such force that Maria had to catch herself before falling off. “What? Wait a minute. What? Did you just say what I think you did?” She laughed in sincere surprise. “Michael Guerin, admitting that *I’m* right about something? Oh… I have to savor this. I’ll even give you an extra minute – hell, I’ll give you *two* extra minutes.”

“Yes, I said that you were right. I should have… told you earlier or something.” Michael looked down, then met her gaze. “But I’m not sorry.”

“You’re not *sorry*?” Her eyes widened in astonishment.

“No.” He replied quietly.

“You fuck with my life, and you’re not sorry.” She deadpanned.

“No. You don’t understand what it’s about… just listen.”

“Listen to what, Michael? Did you, or did you not basically bind our lives?”

“Yes, but… It’s not what you think.”

Maria stood up and stomped over to him. “Not what I think? I’m really tired of you telling me what I should and shouldn’t think. I’m tired of you deciding what I should and shouldn’t know. I’m tired of you walking in and walking out of lives without giving a damn about how your actions affect other people. I’m tired of~”

“God, do you *ever* shut up?” Michael grumbled, shaking his head.

“Me?” Maria asked, annoyed. “Shut up? Listen, buddy, I don’t know who you think you are talking to~”

“SHUT UP!” Michael yelled, clenching his fists to his temples. “For two-fucking-minutes, will you shut up!”

“Do NOT yell at me!” Maria slapped his arm. “I have customers out there and they can hear you. Plus, you have NO right to tell me what to do!”

“Grrr,” he grunted, moving around the table to stand in front of her. He watched her mouth open to start in on him again, and before he knew what he was doing – before she had a chance to react – Michael forcefully grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her.

Maria wasn’t sure if she was still standing – there was no feeling left in her legs. Her hands grasped onto his wrists, at first in an attempt to drag his arms down – now she held on tightly to keep herself up. A flush of hatred hit her as she recalled her prediction of almost a decade ago. Michael ruined it – kissing, touching, whatever – for her. Nothing, nothing with anyone else ever came close to this. His lips were just as she remembered them: soft, yet aggressive, making every spot they touched tingle. His thumbs caressed her cheekbones, the rough skin on his fingertips a sharp contrast to her silken skin. The table was providing her only support as he pressed his body firmly against hers.

A gentle mew broke into the virtual silence, and Maria chided herself on letting him get to her. She let go of his wrists and flattened her hands against his chest, thrusting him away sharply. Her conflicting emotions obvious as her fingers wrenched the fabric of his shirt, even after he was an arm’s length away. Michael fell back, heaving deep breaths.

“I’m~” He stopped. What was going to say? That he was sorry? He wasn’t. That he shouldn’t have kissed her? He wanted to – he’d wanted to for years. Michael watched as her fingers stroked her swollen lips, and it was all he could do not to return to that luscious pout. He hoisted himself up on the counter across from her, his back stiff against the wall. “Just listen. Please.”

Eyes fixed on the ground, Maria nodded quickly. Her life was no longer getting stranger by the day, it was getting stranger by the minute. In the past five – Michael had admitted she was right, actually used the word “please,” and kissed her. God, did he kiss her. Her knees still felt weak, and her thumb now rubbed over her lips as she tried to not fall apart in front of him.

“I asked him – White Eagle – if there was some way that I could… I don’t know. Connect us, or whatever. He didn’t want to do it, for all the reasons you said. It wouldn’t be fair, you wouldn’t really have a say in the matter… but I just kept at him until he gave in.” Michael looked for a sign of acknowledgement, but she didn’t move. “There was a small, kind of ceremony thing – just me and him. I really didn’t understand it. But he told me that there was a catch – or something. That we wouldn’t be completely, uh, bonded, until you knew… came to it of your own volition.” He scrunched his eyebrows. “That’s why I was surprised when I saw you wearing the ring. Because I thought it was, I guess a sign. And that’s why I didn’t correct you when you told me it was from Max. I didn’t want to rip up everything again – and put another weight on your mind.”

“So, Max knew.”

“No, Max didn’t know.” Sighing, Michael leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “He only knew that it was important that he give it to you. It was pretty stupid on my part. I don’t know how I expected you to agree to it, if you didn’t know what was going on. I think that’s why White Eagle finally agreed – because it was next to impossible that you would find out what I did, and if you didn’t know – then we weren’t really bonded.”

“So, after a peyote-induced night of hallucinations, you decided that you wanted to be joined with me forever.”

“Peyote?”

Maria looked up at Michael for the first time since she pushed him away. “Max told me you three took a lot of peyote that night.”

“Oh.” He shook his head. “No. The peyote had nothing to do with it. It had been on my mind for… a while. I had the rings before I left Roswell.”

“Rings?” Confusion was clear on her face. Maria suddenly realized that in all the time he’d been with her, she’d never noticed the silver ring on his left hand. Slowly, she walked over to him and took his hand in hers, running her thumb over the ring. It was nearly-identical to the one she’d worn for years. The marking carved into it were similar, but not quite exactly the same. Maria rested a hip against the counter, between Michael’s legs. “What does it say?”

“Say?”

A half-smile lit up her face. “I’ve tried to figure out what the markings on mine represented. One of the few things I’ve learned about you is that, as haphazard as you may be with your actions, you are very deliberate with your art.”

Michael blushed and put all his weight on one side, retrieving something from his pocket. “You wouldn’t have been able to figure it out. It’s, um, well… the symbols are derived from what I could figure out of our language. And, they… the rings… they don’t make much sense unless they are together.” Maria laughed softly as Michael took his own ring off. Placing them side by side, he lined them up so that the message was clear to him. “There… that’s it.”

With her index finger, Maria traced over the line where the rings touched. “It still doesn’t make any sense to me, o alien one.”

Turning as he read, Michael smiled. “It says, ‘Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.’ It’s from a poem.”

“Cummings.” Maria nodded. “Somewhere I have never traveled…”

“You know it.” His tone was not questioning, but more one of awed reverence. Not unlike his tone in the motel room on 285 that fateful night.

“Of course.”

Sliding his ring back on, Michael fingered Maria’s. “So, I’ve been trying to figure it out. And I think it happened that night.”

Completely thrown by the sudden change of topic, Maria raised an eyebrow. “What happened? What night?”

“The night you and, uh, Max, uh…”

“Ohhh…” Maria pursed her lips tightly. “That night.”

“Yeah.” Michael paused, taking a breath. “You said that you knew the ring was from me – that you knew how important it was to me.”

“I did.”

Pulling his legs up onto the counter, he crossed them between him and Maria. “I think, maybe, that’s when it happened. I mean, I know you didn’t *really* know what was going on… but maybe because of some glitch, it was enough. And it was all complete,” Michael’s knees bounced nervously.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Maria sat down into a nearby chair. “Well, how are we going to undo it?”

A dagger was thrown into Michael’s chest. He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his heart – that was not the question he was expecting. “I-I-I don’t know,” he stuttered. “Do you *want* to undo it?”

“I can’t watch you go through these dreams, Michael. And I can’t spend the rest of my life worrying about you – not like this.”

“I know.”

“It’s not that…”

“No, I understand.” Michael hopped off the counter and dusted himself off. “It was selfish of me, I didn’t think. And now I…we have to deal with the consequences.”

“Michael.” Maria reached out for him as he passed her. Her hand held his, making him stop momentarily.

“I should let you go, you have a store to run.” Dropping her hand, Michael tried to smile. “I’m going to head back to Max’s.”