Both Michael and Max paused in their tracks. They were so used to ignoring Hanson that it was shocking when he actually had something to contribute to the case. Michael quickly snatched the file from his hand and both he and Max scanned it.
"Hanson, call an officer on the scene at the University and have them transport the Professor here. Put her in interrogation room one when she arrives." Michael looked at Max and grimaced. He missed it. Nothing in her manner, or about her tripped off his usual alert senses that she could be a deviant. Michael cussed under his breath and tossed a dollar at Max. He let his attraction to her blind him. Thinking with his little head obvious left him unaware of her possible personality faults, but he couldn't imagine what Max's excuse was.
She had been in the station for over ten minutes before Michael and Max even bothered to go talk to her. They went into the backroom and observed her from the behind the two way glass. Strange, but the woman actually appeared to be napping. Michael pushed Max aside and left to enter the room slapping the file against his leg.
"Professor?"
Maria looked up at the large irritable one. Lord he looked good enough to lick-- all over. The other was chocolate box pretty, but this one was exotic chocolate, totally fuckable. Maria shook herself out of her thoughts and reminded herself that she was pissed at them picking her off the street without a word. "Maria. I told you to call me Maria."
"Okay, Maria," Dammit, her eyes darkened when she was tired and angry! Michael cleared his throat. "Perhaps you could talk to us about your record."
"Which record would that be?" Maria sat up straighter in her seat, her eyes becoming weary. "My dental record, academic record, or perhaps my driving record? Could you be more specific, Detective? I'm a busy woman. I've got little to no time to deal with slapstick, paltry Pig tactics, so if you need to pull out the nightstick I suggest you do it now." Maria cocked her head to one side but refused to let her vision waver or back down.
"How about your arrest record?" Michael clenched his hands and cursed his body as it responded to her attitude with a thickening and arousal. Her deep angry voice was making his toes curl.
"Oh, that..." Maria rubbed her forehead. Dammit she was getting a migraine, and this rate she'd have little to no option but to go home and sleep it off. "Who's your commanding officer?" Maria looked at both Max and Michael's frowns as they tried to understand what relevance that had to their questions. "Is it Captain Jim Valenti?" They both reluctantly nodded. "Good, I refuse to answer any questions without your Captain being present, so scurry off and find him." Maria watched as an angry hue moved over Michael's face. "And I take my coffee black!"
Michael leaned up against the wall and watched her. He could see the headache move into her eye, how her forehead wrinkled as she tried to adjust to the light, and part of him felt bad that he was adding to the stress of it, but another part was intrigued to see how far and how much he could affect her. So they remained patient and quiet, staring each other down, until her eyes finally broke. But instead of relief, he felt uncomfortable. He watched her eyes slowly course down his body, occasionally pausing to really take account, and then continue. When she was eye-leveled to his groin, she stopped and just stared. It was like her stare was touching him, stroking his body, slowly and with delicate care. And when he thought he couldn't get more aroused, her tongue came out and licked her lips.
It was Kyle walking down the hall, and looking into the open door of the interrogation room that stopped Michael from losing control, moving across the room, and picking up Maria to push her hard against the wall and crush her under his body. Kyle found a way to throw cold water on the entire situation.
"Maria!" Kyle came into the room and tossed his file on the table, sitting his ass down on the edge next to her, he reached down and kissed her on the lips. "What the hell are you doing hanging out at the PD? Not that Major Crimes couldn't use the decoration." Kyle heard a noise behind him and looked over at Michael. "Hey, Guerin, don't tell me you were keeping this lovely lady to yourself." Kyle ignored the angry explanation from Michael and turned back to Maria. "So Dollface, you coming to Sunday dinner, or do I've got to babysit the old ones alone?"
"Sorry, Kyle, but I think the Detective has plans to tie me up on Sunday." Maria looked pointedly at Michael when she said that. Kyle looked between the two of them, seeing sparks, major sparks, and something else. Before he could comment, Valenti and Max came back into the room, with Max a few steps behind carrying a cup of coffee, black.
"Maria!" Valenti went to the woman, pass his son and picked her up out the chair in a large bear hug. "Hey honey, it's about time you came to see me! You've missed every Sunday dinner for the last two months, and you know that's not allowed."
"Actually Jim, I'm afraid this isn't a social call." Maria motioned towards both Max and Michael. Valenti looked at his two detectives, and then back at Maria. "Oh lord, what now? Where is she? Do they still have her in holding or are they processing her?"
Michael and Max were clueless. Who the hell was 'she" and why did their witness have more friends and acquaintances in the department then they did. "Captain, we brought Professor DeLuca for some standard questioning about her record, and in conjunction with the murder case at the University." Michael handed Valenti Maria's sheet.
"Damn, I forgot I was going to take care of some of this stuff." Valenti looked up at Maria. "Sorry, I meant to have it removed, but somehow I got busy." Jim went down the long list of previous arrest, with no convictions. "Strange, I think you've got a longer sheet than your old man, and almost all of it's because of your mom. So this has nothing to do with her, right?"
"Well, technically, no. Unless you count that the murder of the guard, Chris Delaney, happened in a newly renovated building saved by Amy DeLuca. If I had my new building like I wanted, then my security system would have already been installed and there wouldn't have been any reason to have a night guard patrolling the halls." Maria saw Max slowly put the coffee on the table and smiled her thanks as she picked it up and took a sip. Okay, not as vile as the Anthropology Department's coffee, but coming a close second.
Valenti looked at his men knowing how this looked, how the long report looked, and how it discredited Maria. "I think I can explain most of theses charges." Valenti looked down at the first one listed. "Chicago? Was that during the protest against coloring the water green for St. Patrick's Day or the Haymarket Reunion?"
"I think the first one is probably the Haymarket Massacre Anniversary, and technically all I did was make an overweight Irish Cop run down a street. But of course, mom did more. She locked hands with other protesters and sat down in a wonderful display of civil disobedience, resulting in the lot of us taking a ride in the paddywagons." Maria took another drink. "I think the federal charges for trespassing and destruction of military property, with an intent of treason is the best.� Maria took a sip of coffee and then pointed a finger at Jim in thought. �Though technically they said we had to cross the river before they arrested us, and mom only got to the middle of the river before I caught up with her. I always thought it was the wet t-shirts and the lack of a bras that made them decide to add us the rest. Mom was thrilled."
Both Michael and Max listened to her explain away every charge one by one, with "Mom" being the cause of most the trouble. Both Valenti men just nodded their heads in total understanding. Finally Jim looked over to his two detectives. "You gentlemen probably remember Maria's mother? Amy DeLuca?" Both of them shook their heads no, until Jim decided to remind them. "She's the woman who chained herself to the Sergeant's front desk two months ago to protest prisoner conditions in our hold cells." Both men suddenly remembered the woman, but she hardly looked old enough to have a twenty-six year old University Professor for a daughter.
"Yeah, I remember that head case." Michael barely paused when he saw Kyle giving him a high sign to cut it off, shaking his head violently.
"That would be the one." Valenti helped Maria to stand, putting his arm around her shoulder to lead her out of the interrogation room. "My fianc�e." Maria just smirked at Michael and when Valenti wasn't looking, she crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Wait," Michael grabbed the folder back and scanned the sheet again, "what about this one. Arrested in a raid of a 'house of ill repute' in New Orleans?"
Maria casually looked over his hand to read the sheet too. "Oh, that one is mine." And with a smile she left the room with Jim. They looked at each other as they heard her ask what was on the menu for Sunday dinner. Valenti ordered Max and Michael to give Maria a lift home since she was picked up in a squad car. None of them really talked along the way, but occasionally a moan and groan would come from the back seat.
"Cut it out." Michael said refusing to look back at her. "We're not letting you cop a plea of police brutality."
"Oh bite me, flatfoot. I've got a humdinger of a migraine coming on, my life is too damn stressful, and today I found a dead body, so flip off!" Maria spotted the turn off for her loft apartment. Oh thank god, it had been weeks since she was home, really home. Over the last two weeks the best she did was open the door, walk straight into her bedroom, fall fast asleep, wake up to shower, feed the cat, and rush out the door.
Maria was surprised when the two detectives followed her to her door. Opening it and walking in she started to turn around and thank them for the ride before slamming the door in their faces, but the state of her loft stopped her. There were dishes piled up in the sink, clothes everywhere, empty beer cans, and stacks of empty pizza boxes. She never noticed it last night. It was so late when she came home, and still dark when she left that morning, that she never noticed the state of her home. Picking up a pair of kitchen tongs she walked around the place expressing her displeasure and disbelief.
Michael just assumed that the place was a wreck normally. After seeing her office, both of them, the disaster in the museum, it wasn't hard to imagine that this was her normal mode of housekeeping. It was her cussing that began when she slowly stood up from a crouched position holding a pair of men's underwear in her tongs that clenched it. This wasn't how she left her place. Maria looked over and saw a man's leather jacket draped across the back of the sofa, and a look of horror crossed her face.
Rushing to the phone, she dialed a number and waited. When the person on the other line picked up, Maria began to whine. "No, absolutely not. I won't have it! I won't have him in my house. You've got to take him back."
Both Michael and Max could hear a woman's voice on the other end screeching, "Maria, honey is that you? I can't hear you! It must be the line..." and then the sounds of the other phone being banged hard against something.
"You can't do this to me. I won't allow it." Maria winced at the banging and continued to scream into the phone. "You're not fooling anyone. Now come get him or I'm moving back home!" The phone on the other end went dead, and all they could hear was a dial tone.
All the screaming must have wakened the dead, because the door under the stairs leading up to the loft suddenly opened and out walked a man, a little over six feet tall, medium build with curly golden blond hair. The man was dressed in only a pair of skimpy tiger print briefs scratching his stomach below his belly button, and in his other hand was a gun. It was the gun that alerted Michael and Max. Both of them almost in tandem drew their weapons as the man became aware of them and lifted his to cover them. Maria screamed and stepped back from the three men all facing each other with weapons drawn.
"Wait! Wait, okay? Calm down! Calm down!" Maria slowly insinuated herself between them backing herself up against the naked man, and pushing his gun arm down, while keeping her other hand up looking at both Max and Michael. Michael growled under his breath as the man's other hand, the one that had been scratching his stomach came out to circle around Maria's waist. Michael's eyes narrowed as he targeted a place between the man's beady eyes. "Let's just take a calming breath and release some of the testosterone. It's not going to look good if you shoot my cousin in my apartment just for being a Pig, breaking and entering, and committing an act of fashion death by wearing those briefs."
Both Michael and Max began to relax as the word "cousin" registered. Slowly they lowered their guns, as Maria spun around on her heel, and reached up to slap the man upside his head. "Do you have to act like the pig you are? Look at this place? What were you thinking? How did you get in?" Maria looked at her cousin her hands coming to rest on her hips. "You picked the lock, didn't you? Didn't you?" Sean finally nodded his head in agreement. Yeah, so he picked the lock. "I should have these detectives arrest you for breaking and entering." Maria rushed off up the stairs pointing her finger menacing. "But lucky for you, I'm sick of police and police stations, I've got the monster of all headaches, and I'm going to take a bath. So..." pausing on the steps leading upward to her loft bedroom, "if you know what's good for you, you'll restore some order to my home, take out the garbage, pick up your dirty clothes, and do the damn dishes before I get back." With that Maria went up the stairs and they could hear drawers slamming.
Suddenly she was back by the upper railing, looking down at them wearing nothing but an open robe with only a bra and panties under it. Michael couldn't stop staring at her body as she suddenly pointed a finger at her cousin. "Where the hell is my cat?" And against his will Michael groaned aloud when she gathered her robe and tied the sash. "You better find Mr. Booboo, or there'll be hell to pay!" And she was gone again, with just the sounds of a shower starting.
Max gave a low long whistle under his breath, and Michael could only agree. What a hell of a woman! Pushing his hands through his hair and taking a look at the room around him, Sean had to admit, Maria was right. He had totally trashed her place. Giving the other two men a sheepish grin, he held out his hand. "Sean DeLuca. Vice." Michael knew the name as did Max. They quickly introduced themselves. Neither had ever met the man, but his reputation was well known. They watched him go to the living room and pick up a shirt, smell it and put it on, and then a pair of jeans leaving them unbuttoned and unzipped. Going back into the kitchen Sean looked at the mess and shook his head. Suddenly there was a soft meow, as a skinny calico stripped cat emerged from under the leather sofa.
"Oh, thank god, there you are! One problem solved." Sean took out a can of cat food and looked for a dish to put it in, but everything was dirty and piled up in the sink. Shrugging he opened the can and before Max could stop him, poured the contents out on the countertop as the cat jumped up and began to eat. "So why were you escorting my cousin home?" Sean turned dark serious eyes on them, and just as fast his face shuddered and became even more dangerous, "Did something happen? Did someone hurt my cousin?"
Max quickly intervened. "No, no she's fine."
Sean nodded his head as he grabbed two garbage bags. "So why are you escorting her home?" When suddenly a thought occurred to him. "Oh god, not Aunt Amy again? What did she do this time?"
Max actually laughed at the expression on Sean's face. God, he had to meet this Amy person. "No, the Captain had us bring Maria home. Actually she discovered a dead body in her museum this morning, the security guard, Chris Delaney."
Sean stopped what he was doing. "You're shitting me?" Both men remained stony faced, "okay, you talk while I clean."
When Maria finally emerged from the netheregions of the upstairs she was surprised to still see the team of Guerin and Evans in her loft. The place was surprisingly cleaner than before, and Max was finishing the dishes as Michael vacuumed and Sean picked up dirty laundry and trash. Michael plain out and out refused to pick up another man's dirty underwear. Stopping at the foot of the stairs her eyes lit on the cat eating off the countertop, but just sighed. At least he was picking up some of the damage.
"Why are they still here?" The men turned to look at Maria, and Sean's eyes narrowed as he noticed Michael checking out his cousin, and even Max was pretty attentive. His sense of outrage continued when he took in what Maria was wearing. The t-shirt was okay except it was about six years old and about two sizes too small, and she wasn't wearing a bra. The shorts were an old pair of jean cut-offs totally scandalous in that there were more holes than jeans, and the combination left a good portion of her midriff bare.
"We just ordered lunch. Pizza." Michael couldn't take his eyes off her. He frowned when he noticed the pain in her eyes. "You still have the headache? Maybe you should lie down or something. We can call you when the pizza gets here." Max looked at Michael sharply. It wasn't that Michael was hard and uncaring, but he rarely took time to notice anyone except the really young or the very old, and everyone else was pushed into victims or the ignored category.
"I'm fine. A nap can wait until you leave." Maria looked at her cousin. "So how long have I been your hostess?" Sean had the nerve to actually smile at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Sean?"
"About two weeks." Sean laughed at her astonished look as her mouth dropped open. "No, you aren't that unobservant. It's just you've been busy, sleeping in your office most nights, and with me working nights and you at school during the days, we didn't overlap much."
"I should have you arrested, or something." Maria sighed knowing her mom wasn't going to take Sean into her house. "You need to go home to your place. I thought they would fix it."
"Well that's the problem. The owner decided that he would rather tear the place down than put up more slum units. Nowadays you can't even find a good slum landlord." Sean stacked up the last of the garbage bags to be taken out by the door.
Michael heard the doorbell, and passed Max some cash as he went to answer it and get the pizza. "So why did you haf'ta leave, was the place not regulation or something?" Michael looked at Maria as she snorted and went to find paper plates and napkins.
"No, it was blown up." Sean took the pizza box from an astounded Max's hand and opened it to grab a slice. Maria looked over his shoulder and noticed that the pizza was the hearty man's meaty feast. Dammit, what was wrong with a few veggies, or maybe just an olive or two? Taking a slice and pulling the meat off and leaving it in the corner of her plate, she ate the crust and sauce. "My next door neighbor, stupid fuck, was running a meth lab. Imagine the balls or stupidity a person has to have to run a drug shake and bake factory next door to a cop. A vice cop. The crazy bastard blew himself up and a good portion of the building."
Michael's eyebrow went up at the story. These DeLucas were damn public nuisances. He was busy eating another piece of pizza when Maria got up and went into the kitchen. Retrieving two glasses, a carton of milk, and two beers she came back to sit down. Michael watched her, he couldn't stop. She filled and spilled out of those shorts nicely. Real nicely. The surprise came when she put a glass in front of him and Max and poured them each a glass of milk, and then passed Sean a beer, and opened a beer for herself.
"I wouldn't have minded a beer." Michael said looking down at the glass of milk.
She finally looked at him and smiled. "You're on duty, Detective. Sean has a few hours before he's on the clock." And she picked up her beer and continued to drink it with a small smile around her mouth well aware he was watching her every move. He watched the movement of the golden liquid down the glass as she tipped the bottle, the flexing of her throat as she swallowed, and the moisture left on her upper lip. Studying him closely, she licked her lips and smiled to herself when she could hear him gulp. Looking over, she noticed the amusement in Max's eyes and he actually winked at her.
"Sean, I didn't notice that thing you drive parked outside. What you been doing? Parking around the block?" Maria asked as she finished her meal, ignoring Michael as he reached over and ate the pile of meat off her plate. It was the redness of his face that made Maria nervous. "Sean, where's the beastmobile? Sean said something hardly audible, avoiding her eyes. "Sean?"
It broke down. I took it to Walter's garage to see if he could salvage it." Maria just nodded. Good choice. Walter was an artist. He could make an engine purr no matter how crappy the car, and if he couldn't fix it, then it wasn't worth saving. Walter taught her endless hours of auto mechanics. He was her personal guru.
"So what you've been driving?" Maria stopped and glanced at her cousin, suspicion narrowing the eyes, and anger flaring the nostrils. "Sean?"
"Jesus, M, it was only for the last two days!" Michael was shocked when Maria gave a scream of rage and disbelief and rushed to a door beside the kitchen. It led to what appeared to be a large garage. Following her, Max and Michael were curious as Sean took off after her assuring her it was unharmed, refueled, and it was none worse for the wear. The two detectives stopped in the doorway and gawked at the face of god, a black mint condition GTO with full trim. Maria was checking the outside for scratches, opening the doors to check for spilled food, beer cans, or any other intrusive material. Literally she was hugging the car, talking to it, calling it her baby, when suddenly she turned on Sean and kicked him hard in the shin.
"Dammit, M. That hurt like hell!" Maria just grunted at him and walked over to Michael.
"Arrest him! I want him arrested for grand theft auto!" Maria ignored a pleading Sean. "Well are you going to arrest him or what?"
"No. I'm not getting in the middle of a family dispute. I'll arrest him, your mom calls the Cap and tells him to drop the charges, and all the paper work will be for nothing." Michael looked the car over, understanding her ire. Hell, if it was his, he would have dropped the bastard off a bridge with an engine block tied to his body, but that was only after he kicked him around a bit.
"Okay, then shoot him." Max snorted as Michael looked into her stormy eyes and shook his head no. "If you take out your gun and shoot him between his beady eyes, I'll take you for a ride you'll never forget." Michael caught the double meaning, and fingered his gun. Maria moved in close to him, rubbing her body against him, feeling the hardness against her stomach. "I swallow."
"Okay." Michael unsnapped the safety strap off his gun and was pulling it out when Max stopped him.
"Sorry Maria, you'll have to find another way to get even that doesn't involve my partner rotting in jail for murder."
"It would be justifiable homicide." Max just shook his head no, and with a swear word that made his neck turn red, Maria turned on her heels and stalked off, but not before running her hand up Michael's body.
All Michael said was "Whoa!" And Max echoed the sentiment. Then both men turned back to a more important issue, the GTO. "What a honey, what does she max at?"
"A clean 145 that I've seen, with maximum uptake, on an open road, she guns higher, even the patrol cars can't match her." Max was literally jumping up and down waiting for Sean to pop the hood. All three men groaned almost in orgasmic release when the headers came into view, and all three leaned into the engine resting on their forearms. The GTO was fully geared, a real muscle car. "Maria restored her from the ground up, everything is authentic. It took her three years. It's her baby."
"Does she give it full head?" Michael couldn't stop himself from running his hands over the satin finish. It probably resembled Maria's skin. Somehow talking cars made him think of sex, which in turn made him think of Maria, which in turn caused him to lose all room in his jeans.
"Oh yeah, she likes to run it out in the desert during the weekend sometimes." Sean didn't even try to keep the envy out of his voice. He spent months looking for a good frame of a car he wanted. He was going to convince Walter and Maria to help him restore his own.
Michael considered what he knew from meeting Maria since this morning. That thought shocked him. Had it only been since this morning? Actually only a few hours, but damn it already felt like a lifetime, in a good way. He knew more about her, wanted her more, and now envied her more than his last girlfriend whose name slipped his mind. "Sounds like she needs a speeding ticket."
Sean snorted as he closed the hood, much to the disappointment of both Max and Michael. "Yeah, but you'd have to catch her first, and gentlemen, there hasn't been a man alive that can tame or catch my little cousin."
********************************************************************************
After they left the loft, the rest of the day was routine. It was a long and winding road with lab reports, leads to follow, and endless phone calls. All those years ago, Michael used to watch cop shows with his dad, Mikey Guerin, and somehow the action and stories seemed so action filled, so romantic. But police work, or specifically Detective work was almost eighty percent phone calls. It didn't matter, he'd rather do this job than any other, and especially Vice. He didn't envy Sean DeLuca in the least. The man was living a hard life.
Finally getting home well after eleven at night, Michael whole body stiffened at a sound to his right. Quickly drawing his gun, he turned to point it straight into the face of Max's sister, Isabel.
"Dammit, Iz, how many times have I told ya not to sneak up on me?" Michael looked her over and with a sigh opened the door and gestured her inside. The smell of booze and sex hit him as she walked by. Iz went in and looked around his empty apartment. There was hardly any furniture, and the place looked bare.
"I thought you were going to replace some of your stuff." Michael shut the door and stooped down to pick up a shoe Isabel lost.
"I did." Michael moved to the phone and he picked it up to dial Max. "The bed, wardrobe, a sofa, coffee table, first class stereo, all my CDs, large television and VCR, and kitchen crap." The phone rang, but Max hadn't answered it yet. He must still be on his way home. Hanging up, Michael turned to look at Isabel.
"Want to tell me what's going on?" Isabel just shook her head no and leaned back on the sofa with her eyes closed. "You smell like cheap booze, sex, and do I need to check you for tracks?"
Michael sighed and put his head down closing his eyes as the once beautiful woman started to cry. Isabel was still beautiful, but she was choosing a hard road, a hard life, and one that aged a person ten years for every one. "I'll try Max again."
Isabel set up straight at that. "No, please Mikey, don't." Michael winced at the name of Mikey. That was his father's name, his was Michael, and in all these years Isabel couldn't or didn't know the difference or why it was important to him to have his own name. "I just had a bad day, that's all."
"I can understand bad days, Izzy, but weren't you supposed to call someone when these rough spots hit?" Isabel just nodded and looked around the room. "How bad was it, Iz? Do you remember what you did, who you did?"
A sob escaped her as she said no in a dazed voice. "I thought I was getting better, 'ya know? Maybe I was over the worst of it, but then today I met a girl I use to go to school with before "It" happened. She was a doctor. God! A freakin' doctor, and what am I? My whole damn life gone, lost in a bottle, shot up in smack, and I can't remember the last time I dated a man, and I mean really dated. Sure I fuck them all the time, not for money, sometimes for junk, but mostly just to lose myself."
"Okay, okay, I know." Michael went over and sat on the arm of the sofa and rubbed her shoulder. "I can't help you here, you know that. It's too late for help from either Max or me. You, Isabel, you need to make the decision! Either get up tomorrow and get some help, or die this way!"
"I want to, I really do." Isabel wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Looking down at herself she was appalled at how skanky she was dressed, how low she had sunk. The girl she ran into today reminded her of all she lost, all she let go of over five years ago. Tears filled her eyes as she felt disappointed. It was hard to feel so much hatred for herself, but she did.
Michael looked down at her, and felt that pull, that kinship that was present from the first day he met her, and the same one he felt for Max. Letting rare compassion sweep across his face, he reached down and offered her his hand. "Come on. Let's start by getting you a bath." Isabel silently agreed. She couldn't stand the smell of a stranger on her body, and the sooner she could remove it the better.
"Why do you take care of me, Mikey?" Michael just shook his head. Hell if he knew. While she was in the bath, he sat out a pair of sweats, socks, and a t-shirt that actually belonged to Max. Isabel was a large woman, not fat, but rather large as in statuesque. On a crappy day she could make men salivate, and even looking like a twenty-dollar whore on smack, she still carried herself with a sense of dignity. She could wear both his and Max's clothes, so he had no problem getting her something to wear while he burned that dress she had on. Picking up the phone he tried Max again. This time he answered.
"Yeah, your dime."
"Maxwell, I seemed to have found something that belongs to you." Michael heard the silence on the other end, and understood Max's unhappiness.
"She okay?" Michael hated this part the most.
"Yeah, I've got her in the bath right now. I think she'll be out for the count in the next hour." Max's tired voice came over the line with more weariness than Michael could bear.
"How bad?"
Michael took the phone away from his mouth and with clenched jaw closed his eyes for a moment. "The usual. I'll run her by the clinic in the morning, and have them check her over." Michael could tell from the silence that Max was close to breaking, that he wasn't doing well. "Don't worry Maxwell, I've got her covered tonight." Neither said anything for a few moments, but they both knew that Isabel was a sinking ship, she needed to find redemption, a sense of peace before the world swallowed her alive.
"Thanks Michael." And Michael hung up the phone after the click told him Max disconnected.
It was hard, real hard, for both Max and Isabel. They loved their parents, but they were high profile lawyers that crossed the wrong people. All it took was a car bomb one night over six years ago to destroy one life, and alter the other forever. Max had been in law school when it happened, destined to join his parents in their law firm after he passed the bar. He was so close, but after "It" happened he couldn't stomach defending people who were monsters, who preyed on the weak and defenseless, so he quit law school and the next day signed up for the police academy.
Isabel had been at the University studying psychology. Her whole life had been planned out, by her since she was fifteen. She was going to school to become a psychologist, then she was going to marry a rich and successful man being his trophy wife, and after two children, they were going to live out their lives in relative ease. It didn't work out that way. When her parents were killed, Isabel left school, hit the streets, parties, flying high on smack and anything else she could find to dull the pain. Between sex, drugs, and alcohol she was fast becoming a junky so strung out that her life expectancy was only another ten years at best. That was how Michael found her a year after her parents died, strung out in a back alley. She was engaging in sex with a man up against a trash receptacle when suddenly he started beating her. She had no memory of what happened. But Michael who was undercover with Vice saw it, and broke his cover to save her, to take her home.
He called the number in her bag and found Max, a rookie cop still in blues. From the moment he saw her, saw Isabel, it was like he knew her. Then Max came to the door to get his sister, and with one look they knew. It was if the familiarity told them more then their memories could, that somehow they were connected. The three had been together since that day--best friends.
Michael looked up at her as she slowly entered the room, looking younger and even more vulnerable with all the makeup gone, the tiredness lining her face. He poured the soup he made her in a bowl and set it out on the kitchen bar gesturing her to come eat. Isabel sat down and tasted the soup trying not to grimace. Campbell's tomato, she hated it, but smiled when Michael handed her a bottle of Tabasco.
"I fucked up again, huh?" Isabel sipped the soup not looking at Michael.
"Yeah, but I'll take you to the clinic tomorrow." Michael hated this, hated seeing her so lost. "Iz, you know unprotected sex is dangerous. Max can't afford to lose you. You're all he's got, and all I've got too."
Isabel looked at him and smiled. "Why do 'ya think we never... you know...got to together or even gave it a try?" Isabel looked him over. He was more than handsome, and sex was something he seemed to carry in his skin, but somehow there was never a spark of interest between them even though both of them felt a connection that was strong and lasting.
Michael sighed and pulled his sweats away from his body and looked down to check out his dick and balls, the full package. "Yeah, they're still there. And that is why we never got together." Isabel looked at him, and then suddenly started laughing. He smiled liking the sound of her laughter, sometimes it seemed that was the part of her that was lost, the part that was buried with her parents. Passing the crackers to her, he poured her a glass of milk.
"You're one mean bastard, Michael Guerin." Michael nodded at that. It was best people knew that from the getgo, just so there wasn't confusion or false expectations.
"One day, I'm going to see you settled, in love and loopy." Michael laughed at the threat to his bachelorhood.
"In the ground, little sister, in the ground, that's the only way." And once again, as watching his surrogate sister finish her soup, he thought about Maria DeLuca.
Michael filed the challenge away for later thought, and asked a real important question. "Think she'd let me drive it?"
Sean looked at Michael closely, feeling a slight fear rising. "The only way a man is getting behind this wheel is if it's true love, because Maria won't give up control to just anyone."