"Nothing Forgotten " |
Part 1 by Kitty Mc |
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell belong to the WB and their affiliates. Category: After Hours Rating: NC-17 |
Michael strummed his fingers idly on the steering wheel of the little red Jetta. Maria was inside the Crashdown, supposed to be dropping off something to Liz, but undoubtedly standing in there gossiping. Michael had agreed to this “date” business a little too quickly. But, like every red-blooded American male, he knew about women and their tempers. You had to please ‘em, if you wanted to get anything out of them. He figured if he ever met Gloria Steinem, he’d be chewed out to hell and back for a comment like that one. Maria stepped out onto the steaming, wet pavement, and looked around for her car…and her boyfriend. She stopped short, if only internally. When had she started thinking of him as her boyfriend, and not just ‘Michael’? Most people knew who Michael was, and steadfastly avoided him…but with Maria, it was different. She knew his secret—knew what made him tick—knew what he searched for. Somehow, it made her sad to think he never had any peace, because of this quest. Maria climbed into her car and watched Michael has he turned the page on her copy of The Great Gatsby. “Catching up on work for class?” Maria asked as she buckled herself in. He turned the page again, and dog-eared the page. “Actually, I just started it,” Michael admitted, putting it down a little slowly. “Why are you reading from the middle then?” Maria asked quizzically. “I wasn’t…I read as much as I could. It’s a little confusing,” Michael admitted, scratching his head. “That Myrtle chick was a bimbo.” Maria picked up the book as he pulled out of their parking space. “Michael, I was only gone for 10 minutes. There is no way you read half of this book in ten minutes,” Maria shook her head and glared. Michael grinned. “So I’m a speed-reader. Call it an alien perk.” Maria sat back, a little incredulous. “So if you read so fast, then you must be able to read all the books for class. And you are obviously able to retain all of that. Why don’t you just come to take the tests, then? You could be an A-student.” “Then what happens? I send off and get accepted to college?” Michael started, and Maria had a feeling she was in for a ride. “I take my sweet time picking the perfect place to go, and leave everyone else behind, or far away. I go to college, and I study hard, make good grades. I find a girl I like, and we date for a while, and maybe she wants to get married. So we decide—if we even know, for sure—that it’s okay to be together, and so we marry. I have a perfect life—great job, great house, great wife, great bank account. And then *they* come for me, and I’ve betrayed everyone. I don’t want to leave, but I can’t stay, for a multitude of reasons, mainly because I HAVE to know where I come from. Max and Isabel are taken from their perfect lives, and perfect families, and everything we’ve fought so hard for is nothing. It never was—because we all have the same quest,” Michael winded down, and Maria mulled over what he said. She rubbed his arm very gently. “What if you found someone that made you want to stay?” she asked quietly. “That would never happen,” Michael answered before he’d really thought about it. Maria retracted, and Michael could feel the hurt pound off the insides of the car and freeze the air between them. “I need some air,” Maria announced as they arrived at the Cineplex. “Sure,” Michael agreed, standing outside with her on the pavement. He looked around at the faces and the lives that passed him by. He wondered if he was wasting his time searching for the truth. Like that damned TV show—with the FBI agents. What a crock…aliens, from his limited experience, didn’t even like humans. Why on Earth would they want to abduct one of them? Looking over at Maria, rubbing that silly Cypress oil on her temples, he sort-of knew the reason. If they were all as witty and hot as the girl standing next to him was, he figured his planet could be populated with Maria DeLuca’s. Maria cleared her throat and they moved into the lobby, buying their tickets and popcorn. They were going to see some silly movie with Julia Roberts—Michael still wasn’t sure why. They sat at the back of the theater, although it really wasn’t necessary, for the late showing of any movie was pretty much guaranteed to be fairly empty. Michael reached for Maria as soon as the previews had ended, prepared for a two-hour liplock. Maria pushed him away and hissed “down, boy” loud enough for a couple three rows up to turn around and snicker. Michael shrugged, embarassed, and took his arm off the back of her seat, and draped it on the armrest. He watched as Maria sat, captivated, through most of the movie. Silly humans. He rolled his eyes and sighed as the credits flashed. Maria sighed and stood up, grabbing his arm and wiping away a few of the tears that had found their way to her eyes. Michael pulled her in front of him, and did it for her, using the rough pad of his thumb to wipe away any traces of a tear. He leaned down for a kiss, and Maria begrudgingly granted him a small one. She was obviously still upset about the conversation in the car, and probably would keep being angry for a week or more. Michael held her hand on the way out to the car, and took the keys out of her hand. “I’m just going to have to trade spots with you when I drive you home,” Maria insisted, reaching for them again. “You’re not taking me home,” Michael countered, opening her door for her. Intrigued, Maria slipped inside. “Where are we going?” she asked as soon as he closed the driver’s side door. “I’m taking YOU home,” he finished, starting the engine. He drove the slick streets with caution, and as it started to rain again he turned on the air conditioner. “I hate muggy weather,” he commented, maneuvering her car around several turns, and pulling up in front of her house. “How are you going to get home?” Maria finally asked. “I’m not going home,” Michael responded, clearing his throat. “I don’t exactly have a home to go to,” he sighed. “I will probably go to Max’s.” “Stay here,” Maria offered softly, immediately regretting it. Michael gave her a look that showed he clearly could not, but found himself saying yes anyway. His mind was already pulling up list after list of reasons he shouldn’t—the consequences, the crosses to bear. He got out of the car, and opened her door for her once again, escorting her to the porch. As soon as they were inside, Michael escaped down the hall to find a bathroom. When he came back, he snuck up to the kitchen doorway, where Maria was puttering around, making them some adult beverages from the…supplies in the cabinet above the stove. He watched her stand on her tiptoes to reach her prize, exposing a lovely white patch of skin on her stomach. He was instantly hard. Michael approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her. ‘At the least she didn’t pull away this time,’ he mused ruefully. Aloud, he said, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it.” Maria let the bottle of vodka on the counter as she turned around in his arms. “So you think that you could find someone?” she asked, hopefully. “I don’t know. I think we still have a ways to go—I mean, all we ever do is fight. We just have to work at it,” Michael offered. “But I like fighting with you,” Maria pouted, prompting a laugh from Michael. She leaned in close for a kiss, and tasted the Tabasco on his breath. “Ummmm,” she groaned lustily. “Do you remember what happened the last time we did this? I was kicked out,” Michael raised a skeptical eyebrow. “No worry about that tonight,” Maria looked up into his face gently. Michael pulled away and grabbed their drinks, letting her lead him into the living room. She flopped onto the couch and he lowered himself over her. He cradled her soft face in his hands and his tongue met hers, and they dueled amicably. He traced the inside of her lips and mouth, stroking his tongue along the inner passages of her mouth. Soft moans escaped her lips, and Michael responded by holding her to him tightly. She reached for her drink, and Michael moved slightly to the side. She popped the cherry from her drink into her mouth. Michael leaned over to kiss her, plunging his tongue inside, and removing the cherry from her mouth. Maria looked surprised and giggled happily. Michael brought his face close for another kiss, and Maria tasted an erotic blend of vodka, cherry and Tabasco sauce on his breath. “Did I ask you to take my cherry?” Maria asked, accusatory. “You didn’t have to,” Michael responded, completely sultry. Maria knew he was not just talking about fruit. Michael wondered when he had become so soft—when lying here, kissing the most beautiful girl in New Mexico became more important than even finding home. Or was it? He lay next to her on the couch and rubbed her arms softly. He didn’t think anything could draw him away from that couch, this girl. Maria looked into his eyes, not quite understanding what she saw there. Michael leaned down for another kiss, feeling that if she never got to kiss him again, she would be happy just knowing what his kisses felt like, and knowing he wanted her. “Maria, do you want me to…?” Michael trailed off, looking at her expectantly. “Have sex?” she squeaked. “Maybe we should…” Michael laughed heartily. “No,” he answered softly. “I was going to ask if you wanted me to go home.” “Not at all,” Maria answered with a smile. She leaned in for a long, lazy kiss. Michael pulled away again, distracted. “About the sex?” Maria blushed bright red, “Sorry about that…miscommunication.” “So you want to have sex with me?” Michael asked, a little unsure. From the expression on her face, Michael gauged that the answer was yes. No matter what she told him, the truth was in her eyes. Michael waited for her response, and watched as her pupils dilated, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the liquor or the lust. Her hair was splayed out on the throw pillow behind her head, and her lips were red and kiss-swollen. “I’m in love with you,” Maria answered, tilting her hips up to meet his. Michael backed away, slowly. “You don’t mean that.” “How do you know what I mean?” Maria asked softly, defensively. “I’m an alien—you said it yourself—you’re scared of us. You said I was creepy—and…” Michael was quickly cut off. “Who told you I said that?” she asked immediately. “Liz wrote it in her diary,” Michael answered quickly, huffily. “That’s not the point. We don’t belong together!” “Then what are you doing here, tonight?” Maria asked, feeling tears come to her eyes, and hating herself for it. “No,” Michael answered, getting up from the couch. “I’m outta here.” “You’re such a coward!” she yelled, and he turned swiftly and returned to the couch. “I’m a coward because I don’t want to hurt you?” Michael answered, grabbing her by the forearms and shaking her. “You hurt me all the time—almost everything you say or do to me is mean. But I love you, Michael. And you can leave me, and hurt me, and reject me, but you can’t make me stop loving you.” “I don’t love you,” Michael retorted. Maria closed her eyes as more tears accosted her and she raised her face skyward in order to clear her eyes. Michael’s heart was breaking even more than Maria’s—he hated to see her in pain, but he had to make her understand. Maria’s words were so soft, Michael couldn’t make out what she was saying, “I love you so much.” Michael softened and took her into his arms, “I know you do. And I feel…” “You could have fooled me,” she spat, pushing back from him. “I deserved that,” he finally sighed. “I deserve a great many horrible things, because I know that I never deserved love like yours.” Maria put her face in her hands. “Please stop hurting me,” she finally replied, more calm. “How do you expect me to do that? No matter what I do, you end up hurt. Would it hurt you less to tell you I love you, and can’t stand to be apart from you, but at the same time, can’t be with you, either? What hurts more?” “You sadistic b-bastard,” Maria accused. “I wish things could be normal—I wish that I could love you, and make love to you and do everything that we should be able to do. But we can’t—because we don’t know what will happen. How can I put you in that kind of danger?” Michael asked sensibly, uncharacteristically. “What if nothing happens?” Maria asked, now calm. Michael shrugged, trying to say something, but not sure what on Earth it would be. “Do you really want to live your whole life in misery, when the whole thing might be harmless?” “Do *you* really want to take that risk?” Michael retorted. “Yes!” Maria practically shouted. “Yes! I would risk everything for you!” Michael couldn’t answer as she came to his arms. “I would do anything for you,” she said softly as she looked straight up into his eyes. She ran tentative fingers through his hair, and placed her sweet, full lips on his as she explored his mouth with her tongue. “I don’t know what kind of visions I’m going to give you when we…” Michael began. “It doesn’t matter,” Maria whispered. “We’re together.” “*Do* you want to have sex with me?” he asked, frowning slightly. “Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t,” she responded huskily, teasing him. Michael took his sweet time prying her mouth open with his tongue, and stroking the inside of her mouth. He rolled his tongue in her mouth, causing her to moan and shudder. She was quickly losing control, and Michael could feel himself following her into that abyss. He wasn’t even sure if he cared anymore. He ground himself into her, and lowered her to the sofa once more. “Maybe *I* do,” he answered. He rose above her, and straddled her body, lifting her up to find the strings of her halter top behind her neck. Her words and moans were almost incoherent as he crushed his pelvis to hers once again. He whipped his own shirt of his head and gazed down at the pale beauty beneath him. Her nimble fingers rose to his hairless chest, and she ran her short nails over his tensed muscles and small nipples, eliciting moans from his perfect mouth. He bowed to place his mouth on the pale skin of her breasts, and the rosy tips of her nipples. “Oh, God,” she moaned, raising her hands above her head to grasp onto the armrest of the couch. She’d kicked her shoes off at the front door, and now she was grateful as she moved her legs to wrap around his hips. “Well, God’s not my name, but it will work,” Michael replied, earning him a glare. It was replaced by complete abandonment of the senses as he rolled her nipples between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. “Michael,” Maria moaned, “oh, Michael, *where* did you learn to do this?” “It’s natural,” he replied, confused. “Natural?” she gasped, arching herself up so her naked chest met his. “I just knew,” he explained, attacking the soft patch of skin at the nape of her neck with his tongue and lips. “Well, this makes you worth keeping,” Maria grinned, running her fingers through his hair. “Is that all I am?” Michael asked seriously, his eyes zeroing in on hers. “No,” Maria frowned, tenderly. “It was a joke. Michael, you’re worth everything to me. Sometimes you and Max and Isabel are the most monumental jerks—but what makes it better is that you always come back to me. You can think about mud all you like, but it doesn’t change the feelings you have for me.” Michael propped himself up on his elbow, much to Maria disappointment, and turned to face her. “Sometimes I think about you during class. Well, the ones I go to. I think about your hair, and the little part on the left side that you do now. I think about your skin—because I know it is as soft as it looks. And I think about your eyes—because the day I met you, I decided my favorite color was green. And sometimes, I even completely forget the fact that we’re not supposed to be together, because kissing you and talking to you just feels so right,” he confessed. “It does?” she asked, unsure. “Don’t you feel it too?” he asked, searching her eyes. He ran his long, slim fingers down the side of her soft body, and sucked on her collarbone. Maria was assaulted by a rush of visions, coming in and out suddenly with flashes of light. She saw Michael as a child—scared, hopeless—as he watched Max and Isabel being picked up, and then finally at school—feeling like it had been too long. He’d always been particularly attached to Isabel as a child. Maria felt that love—and felt how likely it could have been that they all three could have been together—if only Michael had come along. Then she saw herself as Michael saw her—not as Max had seen Liz, but much more recently. She saw Michael first start to notice her, and how gangly she seemed. She saw herself in the Crashdown, doing a variety of menial tasks, and then finally walking around in that silly Waterbra. She would have laughed if things hadn’t been so intense. But then she saw herself in a series of erotic visions—the two of them kissing and touching in the eraser room, then later of their break-up at the old soap factory. She saw a vision of herself naked, flushed and beautiful. Maria looked up and found Michael was watching her intensely, keeping his hand on her hip bravely. Maria smiled slowly. “I like this—it’s like interactive dating—I feel what you feel,” she continued, smiling seductively. Michael gave her a stare that some might have interpreted as blank, but Maria knew better. He was reverting back into that shell—the persona that he identified so well with. “You do know that you’ll never be able to cheat on me, right?” Maria grinned and Michael smiled back. “I would never be unfaithful,” Michael promised gravely. “I know,” Maria smiled. Michael bent for another kiss and Maria held him until he sank down on to her body. Maria pushed her face into her pillow to keep from screaming, but then she felt Michael absorb her pain and make it his own. He began to move, slowly at first, then gaining strength and speed. With every thrust, Maria met his hips, and the flashes of light behind her eyes became more and more white and brilliant. As she neared orgasm, she could sense something earth-shattering. She moaned as the feeling grew stronger. When she climaxed, she expected some sort of mental explosion, but when Michael continued to pump above her, she realized it hadn’t been her climax she was sensing, but his. In a flash of blinding light, Michael went over the edge, and I was so strong Maria climaxed again, with him, stifling a scream of unbearable pleasure. In a rush, she knew he loved her—completely, and without hesitation or a shadow of a doubt. He was in for the long haul. “That was incredible,” Michael panted. “My god, I know,” Maria whispered breathlessly. She stopped gasping for air, and turned to him. “You didn’t…did you?” “No, I didn’t come…I mean, I came…I just didn’t…ejaculate,” Michael finished nervously. “I don’t think sex is the way we reproduce.” “I think we just redefined safe sex,” Maria giggled. “But the problem is, we don’t know how we…reproduce,” Michael insisted. “I don’t care,” Maria shook her head, leaning in for another kiss. “Jacking off has never been like that,” Michael sighed heavily. “I know,” Maria affirmed. “It was you,” Michael removed himself from her body and lay next to her, and pressed against every available inch of her soft, supple and sweaty body. “You were perfect.” “So that was sex, huh?” Maria sighed contentedly. “What a letdown.” Michael grinned and tickled her bare ribs. She screamed for mercy and finally let go. She retracted, but he immediately grabbed her back to him and held her close, kissing her tenderly. Suddenly, in the glow of euphoria, the quest didn’t seem as important as it once did. There was more to life on Earth than lousy fathers and greasy food. Maybe people like Maria was what it was all about. Maybe she, and Liz, and were just what he and Max and Isabel needed all along. Suddenly, lying in Maria’s bed, and in her arms, Michael knew he was home, and he’d been there, all along. |
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