A Different Kind of Fire
Northlight
Summary: Maria is hurting, and Isabel is there to offer her support.
Type: An itsy, bitsy, almost unnoticeable Maria/Isabel.
Distribution: List archives if they want. If you already have any of my
other fics, go right ahead. If not, ask -- I always say yes.
Disclaimer: WB and 20thC Fox.
Date: Nov. 27, 1999
Despite Maria's best efforts to muffle her sobs into her trembling hands,
her soft cries still reverberated through the woman's restroom. Isabel
hesitated at the door, seriously considering leaving the other young woman
to her own misery. Any woman involved with Michael Guerin was a fool if she
didn't realize that she wouldn't come out of the relationship unscorched.
But those _sobs_...
Isabel sighed and resolutely kicked aside the doorstop to the bathroom. She
quickly pressed the door shut and bolted the door. Bad enough that she was
about to play the part of buddy to Maria DeLuca... but perish the thought
that any of her other... friends, significantly higher up the social ladder
than Maria, should witness their interaction.
She walked further into the bathroom, her eyes immediately narrowing in on
the last stall. Tucked away in the furthest corner of the room, the light overhead having long blown out, the stall had borne witness to the cries of numerous broken hearted women who had sought refuge in it's narrow confines.
Maria's sobs had stopped upon hearing the door shut, but Isabel could still
hear her ragged breathing -- uneven breaths of air drawn in as she fought to
hold back her tears until she was alone once more. "Maria!" Isabel snapped.
She heard the other girl yelp as she jumped in surprise, her elbow smashing
into the stall's metal wall. "Get out here, now. I'd rather not speak to the
door," Isabel continued, slightly more gentle in tone.
Maria's voice wavered when she replied. "I'm not coming out just to see you
smirk at me, Isabel Evans! I know what you thought about me, and I know...
I know that all of you are probably out there laughing at me for... for--"
"Being suckered by Michael?" Isabel answered calmly. "No one is laughing,
Maria. I admit, I wasn't very pleased to discover that you and Michael were
involved in... well, whatever it was you two did. But I am far from ready to
laugh at your pain. For whatever reason, I know you cared about him."
Standing before the stall Maria was hiding in, arms crossed beneath across
her chest, Isabel waited. She scowled slightly when she noted that rather
than calming Maria down, her words had served to ignite another round of
broken sobs.
Unfurling her arms, one elegant hand passed across the latch to the door
which Maria had closed herself behind. Isabel nudged the door open, careful
not to catch the other young woman with it. Her nose wrinkled slightly when
she saw that Maria's back was against the wall, her head resting against her
drawn up knees. Thankfully enough, she still had enough sense not to be
sitting on the bathroom floor, Isabel thought.
Maria's head rose only when Isabel's hand landed on her trembling shoulder.
Her eyes were red rimmed, dark blurs mascara smudged around her eyes where
she had futilely scrubbed at tearing eyes with hands and tissue. Her nose
was runny, and her lips were dry, the gloss that usually coated them worn
free as her teeth had clamped down upon her lower lip. "You should really
try to avoid crying in public, Maria," Isabel stated.
"I know," she muttered wearily. "Why do you think I'm sitting in here?"
Isabel extended her hand, and Maria stared at it blankly for a long moment
before cautiously reaching out to grasp it. Isabel tugged Maria up and out
of the stall, herding her towards the mirror.
Isabel motioned for Maria to take a seat upon the ledge running across the
mirror-lined wall. As she wordlessly scrambled up, Isabel fished a
handkerchief out from her bag. She ran it beneath cool water, wringing it
out thoroughly before approaching Maria. Isabel grasped Maria's chin, intent
on scrubbing away the smeared makeup with the cloth she had just wet.
The cloth whispered against Maria's flesh, a smooth, repetitive motion as
Isabel washed away the traces of the tears which had driven Maria into
hiding. "Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?" Maria asked, and it was
a little girl's voice, vulnerable and hurting.
Isabel's hand stilled and she lifted her eyes until they met Maria's. "I'm
not a monster, Maria. I do care that you're hurting. I just don't see why
you choose to do so over Michael."
Maria's lower lip trembled. "I thought he liked me. Oh God, I
wanted him
to, so very badly." Tears stood out in her eyes.
"Hey, no more crying!" Isabel chided. "I just finished getting you all
cleaned up." She let her hands drop from Maria's face, her head tilting to
the side slightly as she studied Maria's miserable expression. "Michael does
like you, Maria. It's just that--"
"I'm not good enough, am I? Mr. Alien Freak thinks I'm not good enough for
him, does he?" Maria's voice was angry and bitter, her shaking hands
unconsciously curling into fists at her side.
Isabel blinked. "Not good enough? Where in the world did you get an idea
like that, Maria?"
Maria tore her gaze away from Isabel's, staring at her lap. "Seems pretty
self-evident. Condescending bastard treats me like I'm a ditz without a
brain cell in my head, ignores me, insults me, strings me along and then
ditches me because the only thing that I'm good for is a few kisses!" Her
voice broke on the last words, and her clenched fist pounded against the
counter on which she was perched.
Isabel winced slightly at the undisguised pain in Maria's words. "That isn't
you. Michael has problems with intimacy... that whole no attachments rule of
his. I think he cared so much that he didn't know what to do--"
Maria cut her off. "He wouldn't have left if it were you he was pawing at,"
she said, watching for Isabel's reaction from the corner of her eyes. "He
likes you, you know? Me, I'm just a distraction... and I took it. He held
me and I pretended that I was something to him. I tried to believe that I
mattered."
She had always joked about being beautiful, about being desired. There was
no way that Maria would believe her if she denied recognizing that Michael
probably did harbor at least some attraction towards her. "You do matter,
Maria."
"Ri-i-ight. So much so that he ditched me at the first possible
opportunity." Her arms were wound tightly around her waist in a hunched,
defensive posture. "And if he came in here right this moment... I don't know
that I'd punch him instead of kiss him."
Isabel's hand was warm and soft against Maria's knee. Her eyes were
sympathetic when she once again took hold of Maria's chin, forcing her head
up. "You deserve better than that."
Maria flushed. "I haven't exactly had any better offers present themselves
to me."
Isabel's perfectly formed eyebrows arched. "Maybe you just haven't been
looking hard enough." Her breath came out in a soft hiss, and Isabel backed
away, shaking her head slightly. She mustered up a small smile for Maria's
benefit when she noted Maria's confusion at her sudden withdraw. "Better
now?"
"I -- I suppose so," Maria answered uncertainly.
A brush and tube of lip gloss found their way out of Isabel's bag and into
Maria's hands. "Good. Now freshen up and get back out there."
She turned towards the door, looking over her shoulder before she slid the
bolt free. "And Maria? Don't worry about me and Michael. Out of the two of
you, I think he's the one who should be worried." And with that, she was
gone.
~End~
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