By Starlight * Days Go By by Courtney * 1/1

Title: Days Go By
Author: Courtney
Email: [email protected]
Rating: PG-13
Category: Michael/Maria
Summary: An unplanned trip with Maria finally opens Michael's eyes to something outside of his quest for the truth.
Spoilers: Just from what I've heard about from the episode "285 South" and I guess anything before that.
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell belong to Jason Katims, David Nutter, Melinda Metz, the WB and a bunch of other people besides me. I make no money from this story. The lyrics belong to Duncan Sheik from the song "Days Go By" (and yeah, I stole those, too, lol.)
Distribution: Sure, just tell me where and keep these headers with it.

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I know it's not fashionable

To be this hopeful

. . . well laugh away

I didn't think it was possible

To be this grateful

. . . anyway

I know it's not sensible

To be this passionate

. . . everyday

Days go by

I catch myself smile

More than you'd ever expect

It's been a long while

Since it's been o.k.

To feel this way . . .

* * * * *

"You are such an asshole."

Michael didn't respond; he just kept his eyes on the road. His unwilling passenger scowled and stared icily out the window ahead. She was pissed; that was obvious. He couldn't really blame her. He'd pretty much hijacked Maria DeLuca and her car to take his impromptu interstate trip towards the truth. He supposed he at least owed her his remorse at bringing her into this whole thing.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he said gruffly. "I didn't mean to drag you into this."

"You just *accidentally* jumped into my car and took my keys and drove us into the middle of nowhere. Yeah, I can see that," she replied in a voice that dripped with angry sarcasm.

"I said I was sorry," he repeated coolly, his eyes still on the road.

"And it was so damned sincere, really," she snapped.

He clenched his teeth and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Why was it that this girl had such a way of getting under his skin? It was positively infuriating. He tried his best to reign in his anger and said tightly, "Let's just not talk about this, okay? We are obviously just going to fight and frankly I'd rather not."

"Fine," she said.

"Fine."

She reached down and flicked on the radio to try and fill the tense silence that had set in between them, but they were too far out in the desert to pick up much of anything aside from static. She sighed and turned to reach behind them into the backseat.

"What are you doing?" Michael asked as she crawled halfway between the seats, getting pretty close to him as she did so.

She looked back at him with a glare. "Looking for some tapes or something. Is that a problem?"

"No, no," he replied quickly with a wave of his hand.

"Well, I was beginning to wonder . . . seeing as how this is a hostage situation and all," she grumbled as she turned back to digging in the rear floorboard.

Michael didn't offer a retort for her quip, deciding it was best to just keep his mouth shut instead. His eyes were back on the road, but the girl wriggling her behind in his face was rather hard to ignore, even in his agitated state of mind. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was a pain in the ass, that was for sure . . . but her ass wasn't so bad. He had to admit that he was just as attracted to her as he was annoyed by her.

"Found some," she said as she returned to her seat, triumphantly holding up a handful of cassette tapes. Michael averted his eyes from her quickly and tried to act casual. He hoped his face wasn't as red as it suddenly felt.

Maria didn't seem to notice, though. Instead, she shuffled through the tapes and tried to decide what to play. "So, what do you like better, Jewel or Tori Amos?"

Michael wrinkled his nose and replied, "Neither. I didn't realize your musical taste was limited to members of the Lillith Fair."

She gave him a sneering half-smirk and replied, "Well, no one asked you to lead this little joyride. Serves you right."

"Don't you have something else? Something not so . . . estrogen-filled?"

She glanced at the tapes and pulled out one in particular. "Ricky Martin?"

"I was thinking more like Kid Rock or Limp Bizkit," he replied.

"Ew, I think not," she responded.

"Well, what else do you have?"

"Third Eye Blind?" she offered.

"Yeah, that'll work I guess," he nodded. Maria nodded as well and reached down to put in the tape. As the first song began to waft in around them, the tension that had been so stifling just moments before seemed to ease a bit. She was still irritated at Michael for what he'd done, but her ire was calming slowly but surely.

"So, where are we going anyway?" she asked absently as she looked out at the miles of endless desert that surrounded her quickly moving car.

"I'm not quite sure. South," he replied.

"That's it? Just south?" she asked.

"Well, I think I'll know it when I find it."

"And what is *it*, exactly?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure, but whatever it is, it's what's going to lead me home."

She turned towards him and studied the hard set of his profile. Michael Guerin really was an attractive guy, she decided. His face was always covered in shadows, though. She could never seem to see past all that angst to find the real Michael. He kept himself well hidden from the outside world. Maybe that was why he was so insistent on finding where he'd come from. Maybe he just wanted a place where he didn't have to hide anymore.

"It must be hard not to know where you come from," she offered.

"Yeah, well . . ."

"Won't you miss what you've got here though?" she asked.

He turned his eyes from the road to look at her solemnly. "And just what is it that I've got?" he asked. For once there was no sarcasm in his tone; just raw, intense emotion.

"You have friends . . . a life," she replied.

"Max and Isabel are the only real friends I've ever had and hopefully they'll come back with me," he told her.

She nodded and turned back to the window. "I guess I'd just miss what I'd always known," she said.

"I suppose I will . . . but I've spent most of my life being shuffled around. No place has ever really felt enough like home for me to miss it."

"You've never felt at home because you've never let yourself. It's always been in the back of your mind that every place was just a stopping off point on your journey to your real home," she said.

He turned to look sharply at her, then turned back to the road. "How is it that you think you know me so well?" he wanted to know.

Maria didn't look back at him but instead kept her gaze focused on the passenger's side window. "Maybe I know what it's like not to belong, too," she said.

He snorted lightly. "Yeah, I'm sure you know exactly what it's like," he said caustically.

"What makes you think that I don't?" she asked.

"Well, for starters, you've always fit in. You've always had friends and family who cared about you. I mean, has there ever been a day in your life when you felt like there was no one you could turn to; not one single person on this earth who cared about you?" he asked honestly.

She didn't take his questions as an attack. They weren't meant with any malice, she could tell. He just didn't know her any better than she knew him.

"I felt sort of like that on my twelfth birthday," she admitted.

He looked over at her again and she was staring straight ahead. He hoped he hadn't overstepped his bounds; he just couldn't help but press the issue further. "What happened?"

"My mom and dad told me that I was adopted," she said. There was no real sadness in her voice at the statement. It was almost flippant in the off-handed manner in which she said the words.

"I didn't know that," he said.

"I didn't expect you to. No one knows except Liz."

"Not even your friend Alex?" he asked.

"No, not even him."

"So, why'd you tell me?"

"Well, you seemed like you felt really alone. I just thought you should know that you aren't the only one. Everyone has things about themselves that they keep from the world. You aren't the only person with secrets."

"I guess I tend to live inside a vacuum sometimes," he admitted. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," she assured him.

"Yes, there is," he said vehemently. "I shouldn't have made you come with me. That was wrong. I really am sorry, Maria."

She turned and smiled slightly at him. "It's okay, Michael. I can understand you wanting to know everything there is to know about yourself. I'd be just as determined if it were my life and my past that we were talking about. Sometimes emotions cloud our judgement. It's a nature response."

He took a moment to let her words sink in. She really was a nice person. He felt like he hadn't given her a fair shot. If he took the time to actually get to know her, he might even find out that they had a lot of other things in common.

"So, do you want me to take you back?" he asked then. He didn't want to turn around until he'd found what he was after, but he also knew that he had no right to bring her along on his nearly aimless search. The right thing to do was to take her home and find his own way to his destination.

"No," she replied. "That's okay. We've come this far, we might as well keep going."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm sure."

They both fell silent again as the sounds of the tape that was playing once again became the only noise around them. This time, though, the silence felt a lot more companionable. They'd finally found some common ground.

* * * * *

When Maria woke, the sky had grown pitch black as night fell on the New Mexico desert. They were still on the highway; Michael was still listening to the Third Eye Blind tape that had played in a continuous loop for hours.

"Where are we?" she asked with a yawn as she sat up and rubbed her hands over her face.

"Almost to Mexico," he answered.

"What time is it? How long have we been driving now?" She tried to get a look at her watch but it was too dark. He motioned for her to give him her wrist and held her arm gently as his more sensitive vision observed the time.

"Just after 10pm," he told her.

"Wow, it's been like six hours then," she observed. "Did you stop for gas yet?"

"No, I'm about to have to, though. I saw a sign a few miles ago that said there was a station within about twenty miles. We should make it there easily."

"I'll call my mom from there," she said.

"Good idea," he replied. "What are you going to tell her anyway?"

"I'm not sure yet. I guess I'll just tell her that I'm safe and that I'll be home as soon as I can."

"You feel safe?" he asked as he stole a glance at her, then turned back to the dark highway.

"Yeah," she said. "I do. I'm sure you wouldn't let anything bad happen to me . . . I mean, to us."

"No, of course not," he agreed.

"Well, I'll just tell her that, then," she said.

"Will that be good enough?"

"It'll just have to be," Maria said.

They drove on in silence for a few more miles until the gas station came into sight. Michael pulled in and got out to pump the gas as Maria walked over to a nearby pay phone and made her call. She returned to the car just as he was coming back from paying for the gas.

"So, what happened?" he asked as he got back into the car beside her.

"She's freaking, of course, but she'll get over it," Maria told him.

"I've really gotten you into a mess," he said.

"It's okay."

"You must hate me right about now," he said. "I really am sorry, Maria."

"It's really okay, Michael. I actually haven't had anything this exciting happen to me in a long time." He looked over at her and she gave him a smile that eased his mind just a bit. He gave short laugh, then pulled back onto the highway.

"So, how long are we going to drive? Don't you need to get some sleep?" she asked.

"Yeah, a little. I guess we should stop eventually for at least a couple of hours," he said.

"Do we have enough money for a motel room?" she asked.

"Well, I don't have much cash and I can't ask you to use any of yours," he replied.

"Well, you could, but I don't have much either. I doubt we'll get far if we spend it on lodging," Maria told him. He nodded in agreement. "We can sleep in the car," she suggested. "Once we get into Mexico I doubt they'll be too many cops worried about a car pulled over on the side of the road anyway."

He nodded again. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

"Okay, well I'm going back to sleep. Wake me when we get to Mexico," she said. He nodded and watched her curl up in the seat. She was wearing short sleeves and the heat in the car didn't seem to be working very well. He could see that the cool night air was getting to her.

"Here Maria," he said as he took the wheel with one hand at a time so that he could shrug off his leather jacket. "Take this, it'll keep you warm," he said as he offered her the jacket.

She looked over at him questioningly for a moment, then nodded and took the jacket. "Thanks," she said as she wrapped it around her body. He nodded. The jacket did feel warm. She knew that was from his body heat that still clung to the garment. She could smell his scent mixed with the smell of worn leather as she hugged the coat to her body. She drifted off to sleep . . . thinking of him.

* * * * *

It was after one in the morning when Michael finally eased the little car onto the shoulder of the Mexican highway he'd been traveling. His companion was still sleeping soundly and he didn't want to wake her. She looked peaceful, curled up under his favorite leather jacket with a faint smile playing at her lips.

Maria was beautiful. The thought just occurred to him out of nowhere. He wasn't sure what made him think it, but there it was. And it was true. Though his experience with women wasn't exactly vast, he had enough male instincts to know at least a little. And his instincts told him that the magnetic attraction he felt to Maria DeLuca was something that didn't happen every day.

He sighed as he turned back from his scrutiny of her. He should stop thinking this way. He knew it would never work. Maria was so very different from him . . . it was just like he was always telling Max. It was best not to let anything get too personal. Personal only made things complicated.

The sky outside was completely black. Not even a star shone through to light the way. He wondered how the universe could be so vast and unbounded and yet feel so very far away and unreachable to him. He was just in one tiny corner of one tiny speck of the infinite space that made up the universe, and yet seeing beyond this world sometimes seemed impossible.

He thought back to what Maria had said earlier. Would he miss what he'd come to know on this planet if and when he did return to the place he was from? Would it be so different from earth that he couldn't even find familiarity in his surroundings any longer? It was true that all he'd ever known had been this place . . . this earth. It would be strange to go to the home he'd searched so long for and still feel like an outsider. It would mean that he truly didn't belong anywhere. He would finally be an orphan in every sense of the word.

"What are you thinking about?" Maria asked suddenly in a groggy voice.

He snapped around to look in her direction and saw that she had woken again. He wondered how long she'd been watching him as he pondered his future fate. "Hey, I thought you were sleeping," he said with a small smile.

"I was, but now I'm not. So, what's on your mind?" she pursued.

"What makes you think that I have something on my mind?" he asked.

"You look like something is bothering you," she said.

"I'm fine," he assured her.

"I don't believe that," she said flatly.

"It's too much to get into at this hour," he said with a sigh.

She nodded. "Okay then, fair enough."

"Are you still tired?" he asked.

"Yeah, riding in the car wears me out."

"So I've noticed," he grinned.

She grinned back and turned her eyes towards her hands in a shy gesture that made his heart beat a little faster. "This seat isn't very comfortable. I think I'm going to hop in back," she said.

"Okay," he replied. She proceeded to climb over the seat and into the back of the car.

"Much better," she proclaimed. "Michael, are you going to sleep up there?"

"Um, I guess . . . yeah," he replied.

"Well, I was just thinking that it's cold. And it's hard to sleep in those front seats. I mean, there's room back here if you want to, um . . . well, it just seems like we'd both be a lot warmer. You know, body heat and all," she said. She was glad that it was dark so that he couldn't see the deep flush that covered her skin as she asked him this. Then again, with his vision, maybe he could. She pushed that thought from her head, though, and waited for his response.

"Well, if you're sure . . ."

"Yeah, definitely, come on," she said as she waved him towards her. He shrugged and crawled over the seat and into the back of the car with her.

The backseat was narrow, making it hard for them to both fit if they faced opposite sides, so they decided to lay together instead. Michael sat back on the seat and Maria moved nervously towards him to lay with her back to his chest. His arms came up around her and she closed her eyes for a moment to savor the feel of being held so close to him.

"Um . . . is this, uh . . . okay?" he asked unsurely.

"Yeah, yeah . . . okay with you?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah . . . fine," he replied. He seemed as nervous as she felt.

They had his leather jacket wrapped around them and that along with the warmth from each other's bodies seemed to abate the chilly night air well enough. It wasn't the cold that kept them from sleep, though. It was instead the fact that both were taking a tense but definite pleasure in being so near to the other. It felt awkward at first, but soon they were able to relax into the embrace. Maria felt so safe with Michael's arms holding her securely to his chest. And Michael felt something, too. He felt less alone than he had in a very long time.

He fell asleep thinking about just how good that feeling was.

* * * * *

Maria woke as the sun was coming up the next morning. The first thing she noticed was that her neck was killing her. The second thing was the two strong arms wrapped snuggly around her middle. Not just any arms; Michael's arms.

They were still curled against each other in the backseat of the car as they had been when they'd fallen asleep the night before. The only difference was that she'd managed to turn over in her sleep and now she was facing towards him rather than away from him. She looked up at him and had to smile. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

Michael Guerin was not the type of person she'd ever describe as serene. He always seemed on edge, like he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. The tension that filled his face never seemed to completely fade . . . except when he slept. Maria was surprised to see that Michael's guard dropped in sleep.

She watched him for a long time, being very still so as not to wake him from his peaceful slumber. His lips moved softly and she wondered what he was saying in his dream. Could it be about her? The thought of being in Michael's dreams made her blush and she finally looked away.

It was nearly half an hour after she'd woken that Michael finally started to rouse as well. She felt him shift beside her and his arms tightened their grip around her body. He pulled her towards him and snuggled up to her like a life-sized teddy bear. She let herself be held, knowing that once he'd realized where he was and remembered their situation that he'd pull back. She just wanted to savor the moment while it lasted.

She was looking up at him as his eyes finally opened. Seeing her, he first just smiled drowsily, then he seemed to come fully awake and became instantly aware that he was holding her against his chest. He sat up and pulled his arms from around her waist. "Um, sorry about that," he mumbled in what she thought was a mixture of shyness and embarrassment.

"It's okay," she assured him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I actually did. I never sleep this long," he admitted. "How about you?" he asked as he looked at Maria again. She was sitting next to him on the seat now, the space of a few inches seeming like miles after the close quarters they had shared the previous night.

"Pretty good I guess. But I'm not used to sleeping in cars," she said with a half-grin. She reached up and rubbed her neck, saying, "I have the worst crick in my neck."

"Here, c'mere," he said as he motioned her towards him. She looked skeptical for a second, then did as he asked and moved closer. He turned her to face away from him as she sat directly in front of him. The first feel of his hands on her shoulders made her tense, but the more he worked her stiff muscles between his fingers, the more relaxed she became. Soon, she was putty in his hands, her head lolling from side to side as his fingers worked their magic.

"You are sooo good at this," she told him as her eyes slipped closed and she sighed contentedly. "Is this talent learned or genetic?"

"Must be a gift," he replied, "because I don't remember ever learning it."

"There's definitely something to be said for these special powers of yours," she said and Michael grinned and chuckled.

"There, better?" he asked as he finally stilled his hands on her shoulders.

She turned just enough to see his face and said softly, "Yeah, thanks."

He smiled at her and held her gaze. His hands remained on her shoulders and they kept looking at one another, their eyes seeming to be locked. In that split second, Maria felt sure that he was going to lean in at any second and capture her mouth in a soul-searing kiss . . . but alas he did not. She tried not to look disappointed as he removed his hands from her skin and said, "Well, we should get back on the road."

"Yeah," she agreed with as little reluctance as she could manage. "We probably should."

They got back into the front seat of her car and got back on the road for the second day of their unplanned road trip. It seemed odd to Maria as she looked out the window at the dusty highway they were traveling down. Just twenty-four hours ago Michael Guerin had been the very weird and just mildly intriguing best friend of the less-than-human love interest of her own best friend. She's found him attractive; she'd admit, but only in a creepy, not-on-your-life kind of way. But, somewhere between her home in Roswell and this deserted Mexican highway, things had changed. Michael had changed, or maybe she was just seeing more than she had before. Either way, she knew things were very different than they had been the day before. And she was enjoying her new view of the world very much.

* * * * *

"Here ya go," Michael said as he set a tray of food on the table in front of Maria and sat down across from her. The little restaurant they were sitting in was the first one they'd passed in an hour so they had decided they might as well stop and eat.

"Thanks," she said as she took her bean burrito from the tray. "So, how close do you think we are to this . . . um, whatever, anyway?"

"Well," Michael said as he dowsed his food in hot sauce, "I'm not exactly sure, but I think we're getting close."

"What makes you say that?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Just a feeling."

"Well, I hope so. Pretty soon my mom might call out the SWAT team," she said with a smirk.

He nodded. "Well, Max and Isabel shouldn't be far behind us anyway."

"How do you know?"

"Isabel came into my dream last night," he replied.

"And you told her where we were?"

"Well, I told her what direction we were heading in. But she, Max and I can kind of sense each other. They'd find me anyway eventually.

Maria nodded and the two ate in silence for a few minutes. Finally, she said, "It must be comforting to have two people that know you so well. I don't think anyone knows me that well. Well, maybe Liz . . ."

"I don't know what I'd do without Max and Isabel," he admitted. "They're the closest thing I have to a family. And probably my only friends, too," he added.

Maria smiled softly at him from across the booth and replied, "Not your only friends." He returned her smile and they went back to their food, both looking quite content with the present company.

* * * * *

"I can't believe this," Michael said as he and Maria stood outside the car together on the side of the hot and dusty highway. The tire had not only blown, but had basically been shredded. There was no telling what they'd run over, but whatever it was it had done enough damage to bring their trip to at least a temporary end until the tire could be repaired.

"You can't fix it?" Maria asked. She had assumed that if Max could fix a bullet hole in Liz's chest, then Michael should have no problem with a blown tire.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm not very good at, um, controlling my powers." He looked a little embarrassed at this admission and Maria regretted that she'd asked him.

"Well, someone has to come along here sometime, right?" she said hopefully.

Michael nodded, but looked skeptical. "I haven't seen another car for a while . . . but I'm sure that Max and the others can't be too far behind us."

"At least a half day behind us," she reminded him. "If they left first thing this morning then it's probably longer than that."

"Well, we'll just have to wait then," he reasoned.

"It's hot out here," she said. "I'm not sure it's a good idea for us to both be in this sun all day. We'll probably get heat stroke. Well, I mean, if you can get heat stroke. I'm not really sure," she said as she looked at him questioningly, "Can you?"

He shrugged. "Can't say that I've ever tried."

"Well, we should both be careful then," she told him.

He nodded in agreement. "So, what should we do?" he asked.

"Um . . . well, it'd probably be a good idea to not have too many clothes on," she said. He quirked his eyebrow at her and a flush covered her skin as she realized what had just come out of her mouth. "Well, what I mean is . . . um . . . oh, you know what I mean," she finally said with an embarrassed grin.

He laughed a little and replied, "Yeah, gotcha."

He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it into the backseat of the car. His sweat-soaked T-shirt followed. Maria just stood there staring at him until he finally looked over at her again. She looked away quickly, trying to act as though she hadn't been staring, though it was glaringly obvious that she had.

"I think that's about all I can take off without getting arrested for indecent exposure," he teased. She giggled a little, then proceeded to take off the shirt she was wear, leaving only her T-shirt and jeans on.

She looked up and met Michael's eyes. He was watching her, she realized; staring, even. She thought she saw a little smile cross his lips, but decided it was just her imagination as he turned his head back towards the blazing desert sun.

"So, what now?" she asked.

"Um, I'd say you're right about us getting out of this sun. It could be hours till Max and the others arrive and I don't think it's such a good idea for us to spend it in this heat."

"So, where to then? We don't have too many options," she reminded him.

"Yeah . . . um, well I guess the car is probably just as bad since we don't want to use up all the gas running the air conditioner." Maria nodded. "We could walk around a little. There are a lot of rocks and stuff around here. I bet we'd find a few shallow caves like there are in the desert near home."

Maria nodded again and smiled to herself. She wouldn't let on to Michael, but it made her happy to hear him refer to Roswell as his home. She wanted it to be his home. The thought of him and the others leaving . . . Well, she knew she hadn't known them well for all that long, but she'd still hate to see them leave forever.

"Well, let's get going then," Michael said. He started walking away from the car and Maria followed. They were about 100 yards from the car when she stopped.

"Wait, how will the others know where we are?" she asked suddenly.

"They'll figure it out. Like I said, Max and Izzy can kind of sense when I'm around, at least when it's important. And I know they'll recognize the car. It'll be fine." He reached down and took her hand lightly in his to pull her along beside him. She didn't resist, but didn't let go of his hand either. He didn't seem to mind.

They'd walked around for about ten minutes when they finally found a cave that seemed just deep enough to provide some shade for the both of them. Michael went in first and made sure it was secure and that there was nothing dangerous awaiting them inside, then he signaled to Maria that it was all clear and she ducked her head to follow him inside.

The cave had a low ceiling so they both had to sit to be comfortable. It was still a little hot, but not nearly as bad as with the sun bathing them in mid-day heat. At least the cave might keep them cool enough to make it through the day without dehydrating.

Michael was sitting with his back against one wall and Maria sat opposite him. They were both quiet for a long while as they sat there together. Finally, Maria broke the silence.

"So, bet I'm the last person you ever expected to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with huh?" she said wryly.

His mouth quirked into a half-grin and he replied. "Maybe . . . I mean, I never thought about it. But, I can think of much worse circumstances to be in."

She wasn't sure what to say to that. Was he flirting with her or just being his usual sarcastic self? It was hard to tell sometimes. In fact, Michael had to be the hardest person to read on earth. This afternoon was definitely not going to be an easy one.

"So, tell me something . . . what do you think you're going to find out here in the desert?"

"Um, I guess I hadn't really considered it too much," he admitted. "I mean, I know that the geodesic dome has something to do with how we got here . . . how we'll get back. I'm just not sure exactly how. But I think if I find it . . . well, then it'll all fit. I'll finally be able to see the whole puzzle, you know?"

She nodded. She did know. It was hard not to know where you were from and who brought you into this world. That was one thing, at least, that Maria could sympathize with.

"Michael, I hope you know that I really want you to find what you're looking for," she said. Then she added, "Even if I don't really want you to."

He looked perplexed. "Come again?"

"Well, what I mean is, I know that you're looking for answers. I can understand that. I mean, it's hard not knowing who you are. Sometimes I feel like I'm a total stranger, even to myself. Like maybe I'm a completely different person than I was meant to be. And maybe, if I knew who my biological parents were and where I really came from, it would help somehow. I dunno, it's stupid . . . it's just something I think about sometimes." She lowered her head to stare at the floor instead of his face. She'd never told this stuff to anyone, not even Liz. So, it was hard to say when she looked into his eyes.

"It's not stupid," he assured her softly.

She looked up briefly at him and gave him a smile. "It's just . . . well, I want answers, too, so I hope you find yours. But, well . . . I know that if you find all your answers there's a good chance you might leave here . . . maybe forever. I just want you to know that, well, that I'd miss you. I'd miss you if you were gone." She said these last words to the floor of the cave, again unable to meet his gaze. But, she could feel his eyes on her. Just feeling him watching her made her feel like nothing in the world ever had. She kept wondering what it was about him that got her so flustered, but she was sure that deep down she already knew.

"Maria," he said softly after a few moments of silence. She was still averting her eyes from his. He was still watching her intently. "Maria, look at me," he said gently. She looked up tentatively and was met with the softest and sweetest gaze she'd ever seen directed at her before. It was like the way that Cary Grant looked at some beautiful Hollywood starlet at the end of an old black and white movie. The credits could roll on that look, and yet you knew what would happen afterwards. They'd live happily ever after . . . just as it should be.

Maria couldn't breathe as she stared back into Michael's endless gaze. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she knew that she didn't want it to end. The way he was looking at her made her whole body tingle. It was the way she'd always wanted a guy to look at her; the way they never had before. It was a way that she'd never expected Michael to look at her; and something she hoped he'd never stop doing.

Michael eased closer, never breaking eye contact with her. Soon he was beside her and she had turned to face him. Quietly, he said, "You really get it." The smile on his face looked at once relieved and astounded.

"I'm not sure if I do completely . . . but I want to," she offered.

"You understand. I can feel it." He finally looked away from her to stare down at her hand. He took it into his own hand and traced little circles over her palm as he continued to talk. "All my life, I've never fit in," he said. "I was always weird, always different . . . I could never be normal and I was too stubborn to ever try. Max and Iz are like me . . . but then they're not. We come from the same place, but our lives haven't turned out the same at all.

"They've had a family since they were old enough to remember. The Evans' have given them a home. The only home I've ever had is with them, but I always felt like an outsider there. Like one of those pictures on Sesame Street. Which one of these things does not belong? That was me; I was the one that didn't fit."

He was still holding her hand in his and running his fingers lightly over her palm. He watched his fingers tracing the invisible patterns over her skin, unable to meet her eyes as he poured his heart out to this girl that he barely knew . . . and yet knew so well.

"Max and Iz are my family. I love them as much as I could love anyone . . . but they don't know everything about me. There are still things I keep from them, things I keep to myself to protect them." His head dropped a little lower and Maria thought she heard his voice crack just a little as he added, "Things I'm ashamed to let anyone know."

She felt a rush of protectiveness for this person holding her hand and telling her all his deepest secrets. She suddenly couldn't remember a time when she'd been afraid or creeped out by Michael. That all seemed silly now. He was so kind, so gentle . . . she felt like she was really seeing him for the very first time.

Maria laid her free hand over his, sandwiching it in her grasp. "I know what you mean," she said softly. He looked up at her and she thought his eyes looked a little shiny, like the start of some long overdue tears lurked there, but he was keeping them pushed back as always. He was too accustomed to hiding his feelings to do anything else.

"When my parents told me that I was adopted," she began, "I felt betrayed. I felt like they'd been lying to me for my whole life. Like, suddenly I had to wonder if everything they'd ever told me was really true. It hurt worse than anything in my whole life ever had. That day . . . I really felt like I'd lost the only family I'd ever had," she said quietly.

Her tears weren't as easily assuaged as Michael's and a few trickled down her cheeks. He reached up with one hand to brush them away and she smiled slightly in thanks.

"They love me," she said. "My parents . . . the ones who adopted me . . . they're my parents. I mean, that's who I love, who I know will always be there for me. And, as much as I felt hurt by them not telling me before . . . I think now that it was best. I got to grow up feeling loved and wanted before I ever knew that once upon a time . . . I wasn't."

She looked over at him then. "I wish you'd had that, Michael. I wish someone had adopted you like the Evans' did with Max and Isabel. Because no one, no one, deserves to feel like they don't belong."

He smiled sadly at her and nodded. "Well, it gets easier," he told her. "You get used to it after a while."

She clutched his hands in hers and said, "I don't want you to get used to it. That's probably the worst part of all."

He didn't say anything, just looked down at their hands that were now wound tightly together between them.

"You deserve more, Michael," she told him.

"Sometimes I really doubt that," he said honestly.

"I don't." She lifted one hand to his chin and tilted his face up so that they were eye to eye once more. "You deserve more," she repeated.

"I want to . . . I really do," he said softly.

And then he was leaning forward, and she knew that he was going to kiss her. Finally, she knew that it was going to happen. And, when it did, she thought she might never be able to stop kissing him for the rest of her life. For someone who didn't seem to have much experience at this, Michael definitely seemed to know what he was doing. Then again, Maria was pretty amateur herself. She could count on one hand the number of kisses she'd received from boys . . . and never had one of those kisses equaled up to this first kiss with Michael.

He leaned in closer to her as their mouths moved against each other. She felt his tongue slide against hers and couldn't suppress a little moan. At the sound, she felt him pull her tighter against his body.

His hands were in her hair and on her back and moving up her sides. He was everywhere . . . and she was lost in him. She never wanted this to end. She wanted to die right there in that cave, in Michael Guerin's arms.

Though it was definitely the longest kiss of her life and she was gasping for air by the time it was over, Maria still felt that the whole thing ended way too soon. Michael pulled his lips from hers and sat back a little to look at her. She could tell by his expression that he was trying to gage her reaction to this latest twist to their newfound relationship. She just smiled and hoped that he took that as a good sign.

"I hope I didn't . . ."

"No," she said, stopping his apology before it could start. "You didn't."

"So that was . . ."

"Fine, yes. Good. I'm, um . . . I'm glad. Are you?" she asked, suddenly needing to know if he already regretted the kiss. She wasn't sure what she'd do if he said that he did, but she needed to know.

"Yes, I'm, uh . . . I'm glad," he stammered. "It's just, that, um . . . well, I mean, I've never really . . . uh, what I mean is . . . that was sort of . . ."

"You're first kiss?" she asked, not really meaning to say it out loud until she heard the words from her own lips.

His face flushed red and he turned away in embarrassment. "Well, I mean, technically, um . . . yeah. Yeah, it was, yeah." She could tell that he was mortified to reveal this intimate detail of himself to her, but she still felt elated that he had shared it. She realized that she might be the only other person in the world who really knew this for sure. And now she was definitely the first girl he'd ever kissed. That had to make her at least a little special.

"But, Michael, I mean . . . why me?" she asked then. The question kept repeating in her brain until she had to give voice to it. She just couldn't figure it out. Why had he suddenly decided to kiss *her*. She was just plain old Maria. Nothing special . . . no one fabulous. It almost seemed a waste to give his first real kiss to someone that he barely even knew.

But, when he looked up to answer her, she saw his answer in his eyes before he ever said the words aloud. "Because, you know who I am. And you still don't turn away."

She smiled. It was the sweetest and most honest thing she'd ever heard. The words melted her heart as tears filled her eyes. The man sitting before her and the guy she'd left Roswell with the day before didn't even seem like the same person anymore. She'd never known that the person she'd been searching for was right there in front of her all along. It occurred to her that she'd found the one thing she'd never realized that she'd always been looking for. She'd found her missing piece.

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her and she hugged him right back. Being close to him felt so good . . . so right. Suddenly they both dreaded being rescued from the cave. They'd have been content to stay there forever.

"Thank you, Maria," he whispered into her ear as he held her.

"For what?" she replied.

She felt him smile as he replied softly, "For helping me find what I was looking for."

* * * * *

The End

November 9, 1999

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