The Killing Jar 1-2

Title: The Killing Jar

Author: DocPaul

Email: DocPaul2002@yahoo.ca

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimers: I contend that these character are nothing like Roswell ’s so they are mine, all mine.

Warning: Dark Universe…angst, violence, bloodletting, bloodsports, bondage, masochism, slash…pretty much everything.

Summary: Second in the trilogy, Detective Michael Guerin and his mate, Professor Maria DeLuca have been together for a year since the first case that brought them together. Once again murder and violence finds a way into their lives, and nothing will ever be the same.

Author’s notes: This story is riddled in angst and suffering, but underlying all that is the strength of survival. All the characters in my universe are survivors at different levels. This is the second in a trilogy building a legend of a strong Praetorian Guard and the rising King that they serve, and the Kingdom they protect. This story was written with the relationships of the cast characters to the foreground, and the murder almost a whispering threat...I wrote it to prove that a relationship driven story doesn’t have to destroy characters, ignore them for others, and there still can be action and suspense. I suggest the reading of The Praetorians first since all three books are interlocking the overall mystery has clues in the first book on to the last.

THE KILLING JAR

For Margo and Julia

The Lunar Moth was magnificent in its size and beauty. It was hard to find a perfect specimen, and preservation was important. Very few people took the time to understand how things of beauty rarely lasted a long time and that beauty, being a fleeting thing, required special attention to detail.

After carefully mounting the specimen, he took out his magnifying glass, and searched its lovely body, enjoying the perfection that only nature could achieve. Suddenly he stopped.

It was marred.

Along a line of distinctive color was a blemish spot, an imperfection. Ripping the imperfect one from the mounting and tossing it aside like so much garbage, he sat shaking as the violence raged inside.

Standing up from his worktable he entered a special room, a place that held his collection of insects and other specimens. Each was perfectly preserved to show the wonder of nature. Everything on this stinking planet was polluted, destroyed. Nature barely held on against the virus, the disease...man. Some things didn’t deserve to survive, and others deserved to be preserved for all times.

Picking up his killing jar, he went in search of perfection...

~~~

Maria swept into the bullpen of Major Crimes with a cool confidence that was created by effortless experience. A Professor of Anthropology at UNM Roswell, Maria DeLuca understood very well how important it was to remain firm and confident in the face of great adversity. Immediately spotting her biggest problem she calmly made her way to his side, smiling and responding to the numerous greetings tossed her way.

Detective Michael Guerin needed background music to live his life. (Maybe the theme to the movie Jaws ?) If he had had this music, he would have been forewarned that his lover and roommate of a year was bearing down on him. Instead he was like a lamb to the kill. By the time he turned and saw her, it was already too late to flee the premises. Quickly running through the excuses he had practiced all day, he tried to decide on one. Looking her over, Michael knew he was in trouble. She was wearing a short, tight silk dress that appeared almost revealing at times. It was a trick. The dress was a designer model made to draw the eye and lure a man into the trap.

“Stay strong.” Michael looked over at his partner and best friend for over six years, Max Evans. Yeah, right. Strong. Michael felt his resolve weakening as Maria stopped at his desk and hopped up on the corner, showing a great deal of her incredible legs. He loved her legs.

“Detective.”

“Professor? To what do we owe this honor? A new corpse? A missing armor? Perhaps a speeding ticket or two?” Maria pouted prettily at Michael, knowing his diversion tactics well. After a year of living together, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen every trick in the book.

“So unfair! I haven’t found a corpse in months! And the armor was last year...those speeding tickets were a gross miscarriage of justice! Since when did the Roswell PD start hiring female patrolmen?”

“Normally Professor, you are a strong advocate of ERA, but I guess it's hard to talk your way out of a speeding ticket when the officer is female.”

“That’s so not true! She could have been gay. It might have worked.”

“I would’ve let you off, Maria.” Max said earning a beautiful friendly smile from her.

“Yeah, keep it in your pants, partner. She’s taken.” Michael frowned at Max. His partner was a great guy, but his attention to Maria over the last year bugged him. Actually it made him...unsettled.

“Anyway, honey ...” Michael winced at the tone of the endearment. She was moving in for the kill. “I came by to remind you not to be late coming home tonight.”

”Tonight?” Michael tried to pretend to forget they had plans. “I’m sorry, Professor, but it looks like a long night for me and Max. We just picked up another lead on Pierce.” Michael moved into her personal space and rubbed his head up against her neck to whisper in her ear. “You know how important the Pierce case has been to me.”

Maria frowned and let her eyes narrow. Cruel calculating beast! He was pulling out the big guns. Pierce was Michael’s largest thorn in his side. For over a year he had been in endless bloody battles with this big crime name that surprisingly had no face. Now, it was coming down to a blood tally sheet between the two, and Maria wished that Pierce would slip up just once, so it could be over.

“Oh! I understand, Detective. I understand perfectly. I can go to the charity auction myself. That’s okay. Jonathan Stiller is going, so I’ll just sit with him.” Maria waited for the cussing that Michael spewed under his breath to end. “But in just in case you can make it, I’ll pick up your tux from the dry cleaners.” Michael frowned at that. A year ago, PMD (Pre-Maria DeLuca), he didn't even own a damn tux.

“Maria...” Michael hated going to formal events. He hated dressing in formal wear, and more than that he hated Jonathan Stiller. The man was always ingratiating himself into Maria’s life and events. The man was a chicken sh-it, and Michael went out of his way to get in the man’s face.

“It's okay, honey. I understand.” Maria moved in for the kill. “I wish you could make it, because you know how much I love you in a tux.” Maria pulled him in closer to her, opening her legs to take him up close and ignored all the people around them as she ran a finger up his shirt, moving her glistening red lips closer to his, knowing he was watching her mouth like he always did. Maria let her tongue delicately come out to moisten her lips and then gently bit her bottom lip, smiling smugly at the moan from Michael, and tuning out the other ones near by. “There are so many intimate and comfortable alcoves in the auction hall. Places that are so dark and quiet...very much like that side room we found during the Museum’s Grand Opening, but if you can’t go...”

Michael leaned forward and kissed her hard. She was so good at this. He didn’t know what he liked more, her pulling him into semi-private rooms for public sex, or her trying to manipulate him when he was being stubborn. Both were so damn good. “I’ll try...”

Maria gave a laugh and kissed him hard before jumping down. “Thank you, Detective! Oh, could you pick up some groceries on your way home?” Michael nodded and smirked to himself. She won, and she knew she had won. Michael never made promises he couldn’t keep. Michael took the piece of paper she handed him and watched her leave the room.

“Whipped! You are so whipped.” Max said softly just for Michael’s ears.

“Bite me, Partner. I’m not responsible for your jealousy.” Max laughed at Michael’s response, but he still felt a tinge. Michael was right. He was jealous. Even after a year, Max still couldn’t find a way to get over his eternal fascination for Maria DeLuca, the forbidden fruit. Somehow Michael was succeeding to keep himself in a long and loving relationship with little to no effort.

Captain Jim Valenti watched as his soon-to-be stepdaughter was making her way out of the bullpen. He had been engaged to Maria’s mom for six years. Amy DeLuca decided a year ago to finally set the wedding date, making the past year the Wedding Preparation from Hell. Jim knew someday he would be marrying Amy DeLuca, just from one moment to the next, he wasn’t always sure of the date.

“Maria.” Maria smiled and kissed her favorite soon-to-be father on the cheek.

”Jim! If you’re going to complain about Michael and me missing Sunday dinner again, I must defer to Michael and have him take the blame. He joined a basketball league, and he swears he can’t perform without me watching.” Maria chuckled to herself over the double meaning in that statement.

“Actually sweetie, I was going to ask that you try not to give my entire department collective orgasms every time you come to visit Guerin. It’s shocking how little work I can get out of them for the rest of the day.” Maria laughed and nodded as she took herself off to work.

Michael watched as Maria walked out of the bullpen with other people watching her go too. He smiled at her laugh as she stopped to exchange words with Cap. Max observed his partner with a smirk on his face. He enjoying how bemused Maria still made Michael even after a year. Michael finally shook himself back to reality and absentmindedly looked at the grocery list Maria left him. Eggs, milk, cheese, bread, cocoa puffs, and...!!

Michael quickly folded the list in half. After all this time and all the things they had done together, he was more passionately involved with her today then he was in the first days they had met. This seemed impossible, because in the beginning of their relationship they had been out of control and in heat. However Michael was finally coming to suspect that it wasn't just biological imperatives or pheromones that kept them going at each other. It just seemed that this was how they were destined to be. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was to have found her.

Max looked up at Michael sharply at the rapid intake of breath and noticed him quickly putting the list in a safe place. Once Michael was busy elsewhere, Max, sitting across the desk from Michael, couldn't stop turning his eyes back to that one piece of paper....finally when his resistance was worn down; he discreetly reached across and plucked it from Michael's desk. Scanning down, his eyes lit on that one last word, Eggs, milk, cheese, bread, cocoa puffs... handcuffs. Oh! Max pulled at his suddenly tight collar, and settled down to spend the rest of the day in envy of his partner.

~~~

Maria rushed through the house tossing her stuff left and right as soon as she entered the door. Twenty millions things could go wrong in a course of a day, and today they had. Kicking off her shoes with a fling of her foot and rushing for the stairs, Maria absently mindedly muttered a “Sorry” to Mr. Booboo who barely escaped death by shoeing.

The impromptu meeting with her Department Chair and dissertation committee was unexpected. Having Tess crying her eyes out in her office was just another thing. The heat control on the environmental units at the Museum going out was a nuisance. But the dry cleaners misplacing her backless Versace dress was unforgivable!

Maria entered her dressing room off the bathroom and searched for something, anything to wear. Great. Just great.

Leather?

No.

Strapless? Maria looked down at her lack of endowment and didn’t want to have to fuss with Michael breaking his neck looking down the front of her dress.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Hello? Maria pulled out a dress that had no real reason to exist except to drive her roommate insane. Halter top, mohair, and tight. Perfect. Shoes? Damn! Damn! Damn...oh hey! Four-inch spikes from the House of Choo. Perfect!

Maria rushed to run a bath. She was already late, and if she didn’t hurry she and Michael would have to fight for the bathroom and the sink. It was definitely time to do some expansion and redecorating. Maria was putting on the finishing touches when the front door opened. Smiling she went to the banister to look down.

“Dammit! Stop pushing me into the damn door.” Maria frowned at Michael’s angry tone, and quickly rushed down the stairs.

“You weigh a ton, you ox. I told you not to eat that second burger!” Max said swearing loudly.

“I was starving. You know my stomach was queasy this morning. I don’t know why Hanson had to sit next to me during briefing. He smelt like greasy hot wings, and cheese whiz.” Maria watched as Max and Kyle hauled Michael into the room, with Sean following.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” Maria rushed downstairs to the “boys” to check out her property, while noticing Kyle’s split lip, Sean with a black eye, and Max favoring his right side along the way.

Max finally looked over at Maria and just went silent. Oh, sh-it! She looked...beautiful! Michael looked at his partner and frowned, and then at his girlfriend and frowned even more. What the hell was she wearing that dress for? The last and only time she wore it was when... Oh no, she’s not wearing that dress out of the house.

“Whatcha got on, Professor?” Maria came closer and noticed Michael was favoring his left knee.

“A dress.” Maria looked at Michael and frowned. He looked terrible. “What did you do to your knee?”

Michael let his tone become hard and sarcastic as he looked over at Kyle and Sean. “I didn’t do a damn thing to my knee! They did!”

Kyle actually avoided looking at Maria and had the grace to look embarrassed. “I sort of fell on him.” Kyle reluctantly sighed when Maria’s brow went upward. “From a third story building...” Kyle quickly perked up. “But Sean pushed me!”

“Snitch! It was only two stories.”

“Well get his pants off, let’s look at that knee.” Maria noticed the three men suddenly were busy looking elsewhere. “Oh for god’s sake, I’ll do it.” Men...like they haven’t checked each other over a few times. Maria went over and looked at her poor mate. He really did seem to be in pain. Kissing his lips gently, she quickly unbuckled, unzipped and pulled his jeans off, swearing as his wrecked knee came into view. She quickly covered him with the throw from the back of the sofa. “Why the hell didn’t you take him to the hospital?” Maria rounded on the other three. They sheepishly tried to avoid her eyes looking down at their feet.

“I wouldn’t let them.” Maria turned back to Michael.

“Why? Dammit Michael, this looks really bad! You might have torn a ligament, or dislocated a...”

“I’m not going to that damn hospital. I hate that place. All the nurses know me, the doctors just say...oh its Detective Guerin again! I’m not going!” Michael swore a blue streak when Maria tried to finish removing his jeans. “Poking and prodding me like some damn turkey to test if I’m done. Oh sh-it!” Michael put his head back on the sofa as black spots moved in front of his eyes from the pain, leaving a wake of nausea in its path.

Maria just threw up her hands and left him sitting on the sofa. Going to the kitchen she opened up the freezer and grabbed two bags of frozen peas, a fresh porterhouse steak, and the First Aid kit under the counter. Taking the phone off the receiver, she went back into the living room putting a bag of peas on Michael’s knee, pushing her cousin Sean into a chair and slapping a raw steak on his face, and looking at Max she tossed him the other bag of frozen peas and ignored him as he stripped his shirt off and put the bag on his dislocated shoulder.

Going over to Kyle, Maria pushed him down in a chair and took out some antiseptic from the First Aid kit and cleaned his split lip. “Is this the worst of it for you?”

Kyle nodded. “Yeah, Guerin broke my fall.” Both Max and Sean snickered as Michael just growled under his breath.

“I see. Uh huh.” Maria calmly dialed a number on her phone as she walked back into the kitchen to grab a six pack of beer and a glass. The men watched her silently as she walked around listening for someone to answer the phone. Each of them looked at one another afraid Maria was calling Amy to come take care of them.

Michael watched her, taking in the fit of her dress, the way it clung to her lean hips, and showed a large expanse of skin on her back. The damn auction! She wasn’t wearing that to the event, not without him, and definitely not alone. “Hi, Jonathan? Hi, it’s Maria DeLuca.”

Michael swore under his breath trying to not appear bothered that she was talking to that chickensh-it Stiller. Michael’s face grew darker as she laughed delightfully at something the man said as she opened a beer, passed one to Sean, then Kyle, and then poured half of one into the glass for Max. Setting the other half-empty beer on the coffee table, Maria calmly opened another.

“Jonathan, I have a terribly important favor to beg of you, and I would eternally be in your debt if you were to do it.” Michael stayed quiet and stony faced as Maria turned and handed him his beer sitting across from him on the coffee table pulling his foot into her lap and repositioning the bag of frozen peas. “I have a family emergency and can’t make the auction tonight.” Maria watched as surprise moved over Michael’s face. “Could you see to everything for me? Yes, the Foundation has all the workers in place, just find Carol and tell her I had an emergency, and she will take care of everything.” Maria ran her hand up Michael’s leg soothingly. “Thanks! You're a lifesaver! I’ll give you a call tomorrow to see how it went. Lunch? Absolutely! I’ll meet you at the Towers at eleven-thirty tomorrow? Noon would be even better! Thanks!”

Maria noticed the look of gratitude in Michael’s eyes, and moved his foot off her lap, to move over and sit next to him on the sofa. “Thanks, Professor.” Michael said softly next to her, as her mouth was mere inches from his. He knew that the auction was a charity fundraiser for the Museum, so Maria missing it was a big deal.

“Anytime, Detective.” Maria kissed him softly and then not so softly ignoring the others. Moving her hand under the throw she stroked his upper thigh. “Did anything else get damaged?”

Michael coughed and laughed at the twinkle in her eyes. “No. No, I think everything else is fine.”

“So someone want to tell me what happened?” Maria looked over at Kyle who was pushing Max’s dislocated shoulder back into place by leaning into it. Max was turning pale and swearing. Poor Max, he didn’t look so good. Maria’s eyes suddenly narrowed as the four men tried to avoid her eyes and all started talking at once about anything but her question. “Sean?”

Sean swore under his breath. Why did she always pick on him first? “It was nothing, M. I swear. Just an incident.”

“Incident?” Maria gestured at Michael’s knee. “Uh huh, I see. Kyle?”

“It just happened.” Kyle tried to remain strong and undaunted by Maria’s earnest glare.

They all groaned when she turned on Max, who was still sweating from the exertion and pain from having his shoulder popped back in place. The three men watched the otherwise strong Detective melt under the charm of Maria’s smile and the gentle soft sound of her voice. “Max?”

“It wasn’t our fault. The bust was ours...” Max trailed off under the violent protest from both Sean and Kyle, and wilted under the dark stare of his partner. Dammit, what the hell was wrong with him? She always did it to him.

Maria just rolled her eyes. She suspected as much. Reaching over she turned the frozen bag of peas on Michael’s knee and repositioned it. Frozen peas only had one use in her book, ice pack. Anything else was unthinkable. This situation’s responsibility rested with one man and one man alone.

Captain Jim Valenti.

As much as Maria adored her future stepfather and Kyle’s dad, the man was making her life a living nightmare. About a month previously he had announced to the entire Department that the Annual Law Enforcement Convention was being hosted in Hawaii, and the most productive Detective team would be the representatives of the Roswell PD for five days and four nights.

Michael had been offended because his and Max’s record was the best in the Department, but over the last year since Sean paired up with Kyle, the Detective team of DeLuca-Valenti was making major waves and their arrest record was hot. The competition began and it was creating waves of havoc all through Roswell as each team undermined and tried to steal the other's collars. Jim Valenti should have to answer to authorities for his sadistic behavior.

Maria tried to convince Michael that if he wanted to go to Hawaii they could just take a vacation, but Michael remained stubborn and firm that it was the principle of the matter, and not the actual vacation. The competition heated to an intolerable level when Sean started wearing Hawaiian shirts to work. Soon Kyle was following his partner’s lead and wearing the cheesy colorful shirts too. Michael retaliated by solving three cases in two days with maximum amount of damage and Max trying to explain the incidents to the Captain.

Maria finally got rid of the destructive team of Kyle and Sean, and saw Max off. It took some time to get Michael up the stairs to the loft and she left him soaking in a hot bath while she went to fix dinner. Watching a segment on the evening news, Maria quickly turned off the television and turned off the ringer on the phone. Amy would be calling. It was best not to even know.

Maria made a dinner tray and took it upstairs to help get Michael out of the bath. His knee was still swollen and severely discolored. Taking the opportunity, she made a few calls while he was indisposed. Maria smiled as she heard him in the other room splashing around.

Michael was a strange man. Silent and somber, he approached life with a frown and a touch of skepticism that bordered on a psychological parody. The special aspects of his personality made him standoffish and hard to understand at times, but at other times he was like an open book. Hardworking, honest, and honorable with a touch of sarcastic humor, he was always who he appeared to be and never made promises or empty gestures.

So it was times like these that made Maria smile. Whenever he was hurt and laid up in pain, he liked to be babied and so he reverted to an almost childlike manner. She would never admit it, but his quiet soulful eyes, almost pleading for attention always hit Maria in her maternal place, that dusty place that scared the living daylights out of her. Choking back a smile, she went to check on him.

“Hey, you need help getting out?”

“You could join me in here.” Maria smiled at his tone and the look in his eyes.

“Aw, detective, I’m almost positive you’re in no shape to handle me tonight.”

“Wanna bet?” Michael reached out and nabbed Maria’s hand dragging her closer to the bath until she was perched on the very edge.

“Big man. The bath is nice, but I’ll be too tired to drag your lazy carcass out of there later.” Maria reached past him and pulled the drainplug. “So why don’t you come out, eat some food, and pin me to a place where we both can pass out on afterwards.”

“Is our relationship getting stale?” Michael asked as Maria helped him out of the tub, wincing at his colorful language as he ranted against Kyle’s timely birth and the questionability of Sean’s humanity.

Maria couldn’t stop laughing. “Hardly. You, detective, keep life a laugh a minute, and twice as intriguing.”

“You’re not just saying that because you want to abuse my body?”

“Abuse your body?” Maria appeared to be giving that some thought. “Oh sure, what’s left of it.” Maria helped him into the bedroom and quickly wiped him down before pushing him backward onto the bed. Leaning over him, careful of his bum knee, Maria kissed him, and then mated her forehead to his. “Excuse me detective, but I need you to arrest someone.”

Michael’s eyes twinkled. “Who?”

“You. It appears you’ve borrowed something I consider my personal property and trashed it. Why do I lend things to you when this is the best you can do to protect it?”

“Kyle...”

“Don’t want to hear it. You know this is about the contest, and sheer obstinacy. We can afford to take the vacation without you killing yourself, Max and the others, not to mention the entire town of Roswell.” Maria leaned on her elbow and looked at him. “I saw a report on the news just now. It said that the Palisades restaurant was closed for repairs due to damage from a high-speed chase. It also mentioned a man being pushed off the building and another jumping after him.” Michael looked away quickly avoiding her eyes. “Just tell me that the wrecked car wasn’t pushed into that restaurant by you, that you didn’t help destroy the place my mom has scheduled her rehearsal dinner.”

Michael could feel the sweat gathering on his brow. “I didn’t know that the car would go that out of control when I shot out the front tire. And plus, Kyle and Sean were in hot pursuit ahead of us coming from another direction. If I didn’t bag him, they might have jumped our collar.” Michael tried to shift some of the blame. “The entire report was skewed, I'm sure. I was under pressure. Max was screeching in my ear to take it out because ‘Dick’ and ‘Dickweed’ were on the prowl.”

“Uh huh, I see.”

Michael looked at her and frowned. “Your mom doesn’t know does she?” Maria avoided his eyes and reached over to pick up the dinner tray. “Maria? Ummm, Amy doesn’t know does she? Maria?” Michael just closed his eyes and sunk back in the bed. He was really feeling bad, but not as bad as he would be once Amy DeLuca found him. This was entirely Valenti and DeLuca’s fault.

~~~

He sat looking down at the refuse pit. It was filling too fast. Soon it would be time to find a new place, a new pit. Local talent had discovered this one, and his rejects were sharing time with their kills. Every day the noises in his ears got louder and the anger grew as he watched imperfect specimens among the pure. The rage was contained beneath the smile, but his hand still trembled. It was all in the handling, the show, and the standing silent. If you chase, it ran and then capture might be impossible. But if you stood still and appeared to be harmless fading into the wallpaper, sooner or later the moth would come to you.

Every year it got harder and harder to find that perfect specimen. The entire world seemed to rejoice in imperfection and the marring of the flesh. The last one appeared perfect from afar, but at closer inspection all the flaws became apparent. The jarring inefficiency and the nasty spots made everything wrong, and this one took too much time to hunt with too much effort.

It was time to move the grounds, find a fresh killing zone. Ten years into the hobby, and everything was becoming harder and harder. Perfection seemed so far away, and every few years he had had to alter his location. But now he was settled, and this was where he was staying. Seven years in one location, one life, working hard and making perfection the hallmark of his work ethic. So much time, so much work, and finally it was all paying off.

He needed that new dumping ground soon though. This was his home. This was where he wanted to stay. Moving to new cities, new states were no longer appealing. He liked his world and his life. His only choice was to take care not to pollute the field. Anonymity left him free with his hobby for over ten years. It took him over seven years before that to perfect his skills. Seventeen years was a lot of time to work at something, and it was almost half his life. He had started young with insects and moths, but by twenty he moved to larger prey. Men.

Today, he was looking for the perfection in a wordsmith. Vocal sound, clarity of enunciation, the clipping tone of phonics performed in perfection with the added allure of a body of grace and excellence. Something young and exuberant, full of life, something to be coveted...preserved before this wreck of the world took away nature’s most excellent work.

Every year, he had to hunt younger and younger prey. The chaos was catching them, slowly drowning them into the great void of nothingness. Soon, no one would even remember what true beauty was.

~~~

“Michael! Hurry up it’s getting late.” Maria cleared away the dishes and quickly opened up Mr. Booboo’s food. He was distressed. Last night he had curled up in his favorite place on Michael’s legs and the bulk of his weight had accidentally settled on the wounded knee. The resultant bellowing and cursing sent the poor cat flying and he was only just coaxed out from behind the armoire by the promise of food and catnip. “Michael! What are you doing?” Maria rushed up the stairs and stopped beside the bed watching him struggling to get his jeans on.

“These jeans are too tight.”

“They look like they fit to me.”

“They fit fine, except when I sit or cross my leg. Then they're too tight around my knee. This is killing me.”

“Wear some looser fitting pants.” Maria quickly dug through his drawers and went into his closet to find something, anything. “Sweats. You can wear sweats.”

“I’m not wearing sweats to work. It’s either slacks or jeans.”

“Chinos?”

“Maria...”

“Cargo pants?”

“Maria...”

Dammit, Detective, just wear the damn sweats! It’s not like you’ll be out of the bullpen all day, and they’ll be easier to get in and out of at the doctor’s office.”

The words ‘doctor’s office’ had him looking at her sharply. “No way. I already told you I wasn’t going to the doctor.”

“Too bad. Rule number thirty-seven states, and I quote, 'any illness or injury that sustains over a twenty-four hour pain factor, especially with an inflammatory reaction, must and will be attended to by a medically approved medical physician, with no exceptions.' I checked you out this morning. It’s still swollen, black and blue, and hot to the touch. You can’t even bend the leg. That means doctor.”

“That rule was made for you, and you know it. Your whacked out hatred of synthetic drugs, antibiotics, and modern cures for the common cold, makes every head cold, every sniffle drag out too long.”

“You thought you were protected from this rule, but we added 'injury' when you refused to go to the doctor and walked around for three days with broken ribs and almost punctured a lung. This injury invokes the rule.”

Michael just hated it when she used his own rules against him. After a year of Maria’s new-age cures for everything, her fondness for home remedies, and her belief that antibiotics were an evil conspiracy by pharmaceutical companies, Michael finally had enacted the rule system. Neither of them was the best at taking care of themselves, and spent large amount of time worrying about the other. Between injuries and Maria’s whacked out schedule of all-nighters, they were a living nightmare. It was a good thing they lived together, because no one else would have them.

“I already called Max. He’s meeting us at the clinic, after your nine thirty appointment to take you on to work.” Michael opened his mouth to protest again, but Maria just quickly kissed him, shutting him up. “I hate to see you in so much pain.” Maria stroked his cheek. “Please?”

“Okay.” Michael leaned against her for a moment. She was managing him again, and when he thought about it later he would remember to mind. It was only fair since two weeks ago he dumped her in bed when she had spent three days consecutively grading papers, and he was tired of her lack of sleep and the emptiness of his bed.

~~~

“Dammit Maxwell, could you make this heap go a little faster?” Michael tried to rearrange his leg into a better position in the cramped front of the Departmental car they were assigned. “I’m dying here.”

“Nice knee brace.” Max commented cutting off another driver. Michael’s crappy driving skills over the years were eroding away Max’s more courteous ones. But Max had to agree; the PD car was a dog waiting for burial. “Knew Maria would get you there.”

“Shut up. When the hell do we get your car back?” Michael had trashed his truck four weeks previously in a high-speed chase, and Max was totaled out three days ago.

“We don’t. The insurance wrote it off, and get this, I still owe two large even after they payoff the bluebook value.” Max took the corner in a screeching hurry letting his anger drive him.

“Buy out the body and don’t let them total. See if Walter can do something with it.”

“Not going to happen. We screwed the struts and broke the front axle. It was a una-body so it’s totally cracked. And you know that terrible clunking noise and the dropping sound following the SUV going dead?” Michael just grunted as he tried to fit something along the side of his brace to scratch his leg. “It was the drive shaft. Gone.”

Max looked over at Michael poking at the Velcro straps on his knee brace. His language was as colorful as before. Over the past year Michael had tried to clean up his language three different times, but was on a break from the torture and enjoying all the four letter words he could think or find.

“You gotta love those high speed chases!” Michael actually smiled at Max.

Max just laughed in humor at his last car being gone. They were at an even count now, two for him, and two for Michael. Insurance companies were threatening not to cover them during work hours, and the PD Insurance carrier insisted they add extra insurance coverage.

“Gotta love the bumps and bruises. I can’t believe you totaled my car.”

“Actually it was multiple lacerations and contusions, with a possible concussion.” Michael said smugly. His injury list was climbing.

“I think some of the damn stitches the doc put in my ass are still there.” Max pulled into the PD garage. “I told you that it wouldn’t work.” Max complained.

“Hey, I told you to flash your badge, not wave your gun. Who knew a fleeing embezzler would take off in fright. I didn’t know public accountants could drive.”

“You didn’t say a damn thing about the gun, Michael. It was all, ‘show him your stuff Max, let’s take this bad boy down, and make him cry'.”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch. At least the SUV had some mileage on it. My truck only had seven thousand before we ran it off the cliff.” Michael and Max headed for the elevators. “I had to explain to Maria how the truck she bought me for my birthday was lying in flames at the bottom of a coulee system. She thinks I need a tank or some type of armored vehicle like a Hummer, but is afraid of the damage I could do to Roswell.”

They stepped into the elevator, and Max was remembering the shock on Maria’s face when she learned of the demise of Michael’s three-month-old truck. “There is that. Maybe after the Mustang is done, we can take to driving it?”

“Over my dead body. Maria and I sweated over that car for the past year. It’s almost done. Three more parts, some welding, putting the reconditioned engine back in, and a new paint job, and that honey is pure cherry.”

Max just smirked at Michael's voice. The awe, the inspiration and pure pride were nothing if not contagious. Since Michael moved in with Maria over a year ago, the two of them had been religiously refitting and conditioning Michael’s 1967 Shelby GT500 Mustang made by the Ford Corporation in Fastback style. Max watched, and occasionally was pulled in to do some of the heavy work, but the project was their baby. Maria had started rebuilding cars some four to five years previously as a sort of therapy for her grief and pain, and it had pulled the couple through some hard emotional times left in the wake of the emotionally trying murder that had introduced them.

Their new relationship had gone through tough times at the beginning. Michael was having nightmares and waking in cold sweats, which drove him into Overprotection Mode with Maria. Maria began to feel trapped and suffocated under Michael’s ever watchful domineering care. Before the murders of a year ago, Maria hadn't cried for years. She was repressed in her emotions, and given to panic attacks and stress, resulting in shock syndrome. With the sorrow and loss of the murders she finally learned to cry again, and crying released more than tears. It released anger.

The couple barely survived the turbulent first four months with Michael obsessing and Maria raging in anger. Their arguments and fights were almost as notorious as their makeup sessions. The entire Department and family watched helplessly as they struggled to find the even ground in their relationship. It took Maria involving herself in one of their high profile cases, which was both bloody and dangerous to awaken both of them. Maria realized she was overcompensating, and Michael was able to watch Maria walk through another murder investigation unscathed. It lightened their relationship, but also gave Maria a taste for meddling.

They still fought and bickered back and forth, but it was different. It had a touch of humor to it now, an intensity of passion, a fight between two people still too afraid to admit verbally to emotions too strong to ignore. In the last year neither had found a way or time to say the three magic words. Each was too afraid of the last step, too afraid to be so vulnerable. Instead they showed it in every way imaginable, short of the spoken words.

Michael had been the first to understand what was happening to them when they met. He easily gave up many of his intimacy issues to be with Maria, but he couldn’t give her the words. That last step had to begin with Maria. So, he silently waited, swallowing the words every time he felt them surfacing.

“Where do you think yesterday’s bust put us in the Hawaii pool?” Max asked as they approached their floor. Getting out, he ignored the usual flurry of activity in the Major Crimes bullpen, and headed straight for coffee.

“We’re in the butter zone, partner. That places us up six busts for the week, and it’s only three for Tweedle Dumb and Dumber.” Michael smiled his largest, cheesiest grin already mentally ordering drinks with umbrellas. Max just nodded, sipping on his coffee as they circumnavigated the bullpen to their desk, nodding at acknowledgements along the way.

It was the snarl under Michael’s breath that alerted Max to the fact that the Detective team of DeLuca and Valenti was in house.

“F-ucker.” Max said as he passed Sean, under his breath still feeling the soreness left from his once dislocated shoulder.

“Fag.” Sean countered easily not even looking up from his work.

“Takes one to know one, Pansy Boy.” Max quipped back.

“Loser.” Kyle growled at Max.

“Back off runt, and we might let you play with the big boys today,” said Michael. He balled up his fist as both Kyle and Sean stood up ready to get into it. None of them noticed the appearance of Captain Jim Valenti coming to stand in his doorway with a stack of papers clenched in his hands.

“Gentlemen! You better be getting ready to dance together.” The four men turned towards Cap and all assumed semi-innocent looks on their faces relaxing their fists and facial features.

Max started to make a smart comment, when he suddenly noticed the unnatural redness to Cap’s face, the clutching of the papers in his hand, and that very recognizable look of his when he was going to kick ass and take no prisoners. Uh oh...

***********************************************************************************

Part 2

“I would appreciate it if anyone,” Jim looked around the entire bullpen at his quieting department, as all those working stopped to pay attention. “...anyone at all, could tell me if they have not destroyed, terrorized or threatened to maim any citizen of Roswell within this week. Anyone?”

Jim turned his flashing angry glaze on his two fighting teams, and Michael actually felt a need to gulp under the heat. This was looking bad, real bad. Dammit, Amy must have noticed the loss of her wedding rehearsal restaurant! Michael stubbornly shrugged. No loss. The Palisades had crappy food anyway.

Jim let his glance move over the room until he noticed one hand up in the air. “Hanson? What is it?”

“I haven’t done any of those things, sir.” Michael snickered under his breath followed by the others. Of course he hasn’t. That would require Hanson to leave the Department and actually pretend to be a Detective. Sean was making rude noises and Kyle was trying to swallow a smile.

“Good.” Valenti tossed two plane tickets to Hanson. “Get packed. You and Fletcher are going to Hawaii for a week. Have fun.”

Jim ignored the stunned silence, the outrage from Sean, Max and Michael, and the cries of foul from Kyle. Walking back into his office, and leaving the door open, it was the angry bellow from that dark cave that silenced the protesting men.

“Guerin-Evans-DeLuca-Valenti, get your asses in here, now! ”

The four men looked at each other in silence, and then suddenly moved towards to door shoving and pushing the other. Once they got to the office, they were surprisingly well mannered and proper while the entire Department tried to discreetly find positions and work to do within earshot of the Captain’s office.

They all tried to look contrite. Michael plopped himself on the edge of the conference table in Jim’s office and put his injured leg up on the table. Sympathy. He could use all the sympathy he could get. The others tried to find places to lean or stand that didn’t betray their apprehension.

Jim continued to ignore them as he read through some reports and the large stack of papers he had been clutching earlier. Suddenly looking up, he inventoried the bumps and bruises on his two major Detective teams. This had gone on too long, and too far. The overwhelming competition between the two teams was killing the city's budget in monetary damages, and putting all four men on the injury list too often.

“Explain to me how a simple embezzling case could result in three cars totaled, one restaurant uninhabitable, a broken awning, two Detectives jumping from a two story building, a public accountant hospitalized for broken ribs and a concussion, thirteen city blocks terrorized by the very people sworn to protect them, while involving six backup units, thirty-seven auto accidents, the fire department and the city planners office, all resulting in over twenty-five thousand dollars in property damage, and that only after what was covered by insurance.” Jim wasn’t surprised when his men looked everywhere but at him. Guerin seemed very intent on his shoelaces.

“Guerin, you’re the senior officer. You want to explain?”

“The suspect fled, and we pursued.” Michael stuck with direct responses, as short as possible. “We called for black and white backup to quickly contain the situation.” Michael emphasized the words ‘black and white’ backup and pointedly glared at Sean and Kyle. “The perpetrator eluded the units and went down a one way street, the wrong way, causing all the oncoming traffic to crash, swerve or alter course. That’s where most of the accidents occurred, sir.”

“And how did DeLuca and Valenti get involved?”

“Can’t say, sir. I didn’t call them.” Michael said smugly watching Kyle and Sean squirm as Jim turned his attentions to them.

“Gentlemen. You want to explain what you were doing involving yourselves in another team's bust?”

Kyle scratched his neck. “Umm, we were in the area and available to intercept the suspect?”

“So how did the suspect’s car and the Guerin-Evans unit end up redecorating the front end of the Palisades restaurant?”

Max cleared his throat. “Well, sir. The suspect was proceeding down Waters northbound towards the more populated downtown area, and Sean and Kyle were approaching from the north heading fast in a head-on collision with the suspect. To stop the suspect...we, um...Michael... shot out his front right tire.”

Michael swore under his breath. No one really needed to mention that. Michael looked at his partner and whispered under his breath, "Traitor."

Valenti’s eyes took on a darker, angrier glare. “You discharged a weapon during a high speed chase, in an area of high pedestrian traffic, while the fleeing vehicle was involved in a game of chicken with another unit?” Valenti stood up leaned on his desk with both hands coming down in a loud smack. “Tell me that this is not correct?”

“Actually sir, it’s sort of correct...” Michael began.

Valenti’s eyebrow rose and his voice took on a sarcastic tone. “ Sort of? What is this, like sort of pregnant, sort of married, or sort of dead ? What is it Detective?”

“In hindsight, sir, it was a poor choice.”

“A poor choice? You’re my senior detective, and all you can say is it was a poor choice?” Jim took his chair again. “And how did your car and the suspect’s end up in the restaurant?”

Max felt bad that Michael was taking the heat for their joint decision. “When the tire blew, it sent the car out of control. It went into the restaurant front.”

“And your car just thought it looked fun, and decided to join the it there?”

“No.” Max could feel the sweat beading on his brow and upper lip. “Actually...our car was joined to the suspects by the bumpers. When we were in hot pursuit, we had gotten close enough to...”

“Guerin, did you ram that car with yours?”

“No sir!” Michael made a face. “I just nudged him.”

“And that resulted in your cars being locked together?”

“Yes, sir. But when I saw him heading for the restaurant, I applied the brakes to slow him down, otherwise he wouldn’t have stopped at the store front.”

“Well thank God for small favors! Then we would be looking at hundred of thousands of damages instead of just twenty-five.” Jim just rubbed his face in horror. These men before him, at least three of them, were family or almost family. And they were blight on Roswell. “I’ve heard enough. I read the report, but tell me in your own words how Sean and Kyle ended up on the roof chasing the suspect, jumping from the roof, and landing on Michael. Someone clue me into to these Keystone Cop tactics taught in the Academy under the do and don’t of idiots. Make me a believer.”

Sean just looked at Michael and frowned. “Well, we saw that Guerin and Evans were trapped in their car, wedged in between the front desk and the salad bar, so we took off in pursuit of the suspect. He left his car and ran for the stairs. We pursued.” Sean didn’t want to mention that he dragged his partner up the stairs and then pushed him off the building. “The suspect made the roof with us hot on his heels, and then he jumped off the two story building into the front awning.”

“Which somehow missed being destroyed by the cars when they hit the store front?” Valenti asked.

“Yeah. We followed him off the building.” Jim just nodded looking down at eyewitness accounts that had Sean pushing his son off the building.

“Was that before or after Guerin and Evans had removed themselves from their car, saw the suspect landing and apprehended him?”

“Umm,” Sean rubbed his neck. “Sort of after.”

“Again with the 'sort of' response.” Jim looked at the men. He got the picture all right.

Sean and Kyle went to steal the bust from Michael and Max, but the suspect jumped from the roof right into their waiting arms. Sean, seeing their opportunity fleeing fast, pushed his partner off the building and then jumped himself. Sean hit the awning, but Kyle only hit the side and his fall was broken by the force of his body landing on Michael, who was in the process of handcuffing the suspect. Max had had to chase down the fleeing suspect again, and came back to an injured Michael, who was pissed off and beating the crap out of both Sean and Kyle.

Max turned the suspect over to a watching uniform officer and waded into the fight to help his injured partner. The results were a dislocated shoulder, black eye, and a split lip for his trouble, plus the injured knee suffered by Michael from breaking Kyle’s fall. They all got off lucky, but the Roswell PD was suffering some real damages including looking like fools, with their four best Detective engaged in a brawl in front of a destroyed restaurant.

“I see.” Valenti closed the folder front on the offensive reports. “I see very clearly that this past year has been a nightmare for this department. I felt that some friendly competition would be good, but I forgot who was going to be involved in the competition. This has been a testosterone-pissing zone for the last year, and I’m sick of it! New rules, boys! Today starts a new regime.”

Jim dug through a pile of folders looking for the correct one. If it killed the four men, so be it, but they were going to work as a team or find new jobs. “I am putting the four of you on restricted duty.” He ignored the protest. “The mayor wants your badges, but I’m convinced if we could teach you to work together instead of against each other that we might actually have a decent department. Your records are clean and impressive, but so is your list of damages and injuries. I will fire the lot of you without a moment's hesitation if you don’t fix this.”

“Cap...” Michael started.

“No. Not this time, Michael. I’ve had the four of you in here too often. More than any green rookie, and there is no excuse for this out-of-control mayhem. Your job is to protect this city, not destroy it piece by piece, building by building.” Jim called his secretary.

“Rhonda, make me copies of these files. I need four copies.” Jim waited until his secretary left the room. “You’re all confined to desk duty until Michael’s knee clears with Medical. You will clear away all the loose paper work, attend court days in a timely, proper, and respectful manner, and you’ll work this one case with Vice. Rhonda will give you the paper work after she makes the copies.

Kyle looked at the gleam in his father’s eye. He knew that look. It was the look his dad had gotten when he made him scrape and paint the house in punishment for joyriding and getting drunk in a ‘borrowed’ car when he was in High School. “What’s the case? I never worked Vice.”

“Well since the four of you seem to dance so well together, I’m going to grant Captain Strickland’s request for some help on one of his cases. You will work together as a team, and continue to do so until I tell you otherwise.” Jim tried not to smile from thinking of their reaction when they read their undercover assignments. It made his already gloomy day suddenly look brighter.

“Cap...” Michael was starting to worry too. What hell did he mean by ‘dancing’?

“Now get out, and get that paperwork done. Strickland wants you in debriefing first thing this afternoon. This is a night gig, so cancel any plans. You’re all on this case until it’s solved. The four men looked uncertain, and finally Valenti kicked them out of his office. “Go!”

~~~

When Maria finally made it to school, she was very late. It was hard to get everything done before her first class when she had an entire hour to prepare, but today after seeing Michael to the clinic she was left with only twenty minutes.

“Professor DeLuca.”

Maria stopped at the calling of her name, and swore under her breath. Great, just great! “Professor Price. How are you this morning?”

He ignored her attempt at being cordial and friendly. “I noticed that you missed the auction last night.”

“Yes. I asked Jonathan Stiller to oversee it. I had a family emergency.”

“I heard that as well.” Kenneth Price was only about ten years older than Maria, and the Department Chair. He acted about thirty years older, with a prim and proper disposition and a touch of disapproval whenever he had to deal with the youngest member of the staff, Maria. He was equally biting and disapproving of all but a few graduate students and secretarial staff.

Maria looked at her watch and grimaced. “Ken, I’m sorry, but did you need something? I’m afraid I’ve got a class in fifteen minutes, and I had to stop at the clinic this morning so my time is short.” Maria watched his unattractively thin lips pinch in a sour look at her use of his first name.

“The fundraiser for the museum was your responsibility. Your first commitment should be to it and it alone. I have offered numerous times to replace you as the acting curator to the Museum. As I stated, if running the museum, your thesis, and your class load are too much, changes can be made.”

“I thank you again, Ken, for your offer. But once again, I’m the curator of the museum, and will not step down from the position. That museum cost me more than you’ll ever know, and I won't abandon it to someone who has no knowledge of the history of its creation, and the prices and sacrifices associated with it.” Maria hated this man with a passion. He was a bureaucratic automaton with a Hitler complex only exacerbated by his diminutive size and the overwhelming ego of his own pride!

“I believe that the museum demands more dedication and time than you have to give, Professor. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. You are either embroiled in some case with your boyfriend or you’re off on some adventure that has nothing to do with this Department or this University. Your classes very often are missed or rearranged, and your attendance is spotty at best.”

“That is not true. I have not missed a single class this semester. My thesis chapters are current, and the ‘adventure’ as you call it was a three-day trip to Peru to pick up more information for my thesis. My involvement with the police is hard to avoid since my boyfriend is a cop, as is my cousin, my soon to be step-brother and step-father.” Maria looked at her watch again and this time swore aloud making the man wince in disgust. “Now if you want to continue this discussion at another time, I suggest we set an appointment. If I don’t leave now I’ll be late for my class, another piece of ammunition which will no doubt be used against me.”

Maria didn’t even bother saying goodbye in a polite manner, but just took off. Reaching her office she was relieved to see Tess already there with her class notes in hand, a cup of the most beautifully crafted rotgut coffee ever brewed in all its vileness. A Mecca of coffees.

“I saw you waylaid by Master Toady himself.” Tess said.

“You’re a goddess.” Maria sipped the coffee as she tossed off all her stuff and grabbed the notes. Giving Tess a good look, Maria frowned. She was too pale, almost thin and wasting, and Maria suspected she had been crying again. Looking at the wall clock, Maria sighed. No time. Later.

They left Maria’s office and Tess walked her to her class. “Was it about not making the auction last night?”

“In a word, yes. But it was more too. His Royal Toady Jerkiness seems even more in a tear today. More than usual, I mean. What’s the story?”

“No clue. But he already made two secretaries cry, a graduate student contemplate dropping out or transferring, and his student assistant quit today, five minutes after getting here.”

“Damn, he’s a bigger bastard than usual. Wish I could find something on him so Max and Michael could interrogate him again. Last year they made him practically wet his pants and cry.” Maria stopped at her class door, acknowledging students as they entered the room around her and Tess. “Okay, see what you can learn, and I’ll see you between classes. I’ve got a lunch date, so if anyone asks, I’m unavailable during that time.”

Tess nodded and watched Maria enter the class with her usual grace and loud style.

“People, you’ll be wanting to disconnect those cell phones, put away those palm pilots and take your seats! This class is ending before it begins, because today we are talking about mythology as a metaphor in societies with drastic changes. Literally we are talking about cultures in flux and under a glass, easily seen and understood from the evolution of ever-changing myths and legends. Overnight in Sri Lanka we have social myths created as the people sleep. So what naturally evolves slowing in most cultures over hundreds of years is happening overnight in this place? Why? And what example can we use to see this phenomenon?”

Tess smiled to herself as she heard a few answers from the class. Some were decent guesses. Maria's classes were always loud and interactive.

“Did you say Capitalism ?” Maria voiced rose in an almost screech. “Get out of my class!” The room exploded in laughter. “Capitalism is not the sin of this culture nor is it the causal agent of change. It is, however, a prime example of how one word becomes a catch phrase for all social discord. In the survey course that you took as freshmen you might remember me asking what was wrong with capitalism, and some student answered ‘inflation.’” Maria stopped and Tess laughed with the rest of the class. “Oh God, that was you! Get out of my class! No, what is wrong is that more than 90 some percent of all the nation’s wealth resides in the hands of only the top 4% of the society, and this top heavy glut is a social problem within itself. But back to societies under glass... In Sri Lanka a prime example of the superstructure of the Harris modality is that their legends and myths are being created daily. The firewalkers are a prime example. Did anyone finish reading the assigned text, Medusa’s Hair ?”

Tess walked away to finish her grading and brooding in silent. Being around Maria always lifted her spirits, but life was starting to weigh her down. Tess sat at Maria’s desk and started organizing the piles. That desk was a legend unto itself. No matter how hard they worked, how many overnights they spent, the Beast never was clear of paperwork, journals, student bluebooks, and essays. It was like a self-feeding entity that was perpetuated by Maria’s disorganization. It was sad, but Maria’s office at the museum was equally horrifying.

Picking up the phone, Tess hesitated and then made the phone call. Lunch was always a great time to get together with a friend.

~~~

Michael made his second run to the candy machine. It was hard to navigate with the bulky, non-bending knee brace, but the craving for something chocolate and peanut butter was driving him crazy! He had to go down two floors before he found what he was looking for in the third floor breakroom. 5th Avenue Bar. What the hell was a 5th Avenue Bar anyway?

“Michael, we’ve got the lab results for the Turner case, and Parker says the genetic stuff will be back in the next forty-eight hours.” Max was filing through their backlog of paper work.

“Sh-it, forty-eight hours? I thought we got a new system for genetic testing.” Michael picked up the phone. “ Parker! ”

Max cringed at Michael’s barking voice. Poor Liz. Somehow over the last year Michael and Liz Parker had forged a sort of friendship. It had more to do with Maria than anything did. After they were all released from the hospital, Maria had made sure to keep in touch with Liz. She had asked Sean to stay with Liz in the hospital, and somehow that led to Sean and Liz getting personally involved for the last year. Max tried to ignore the twinges of jealousy he felt over their relationship. It wasn’t like he was willing to date Liz. At this time, his life was too complicated with Isabel and other things, not to mention an undying fascination for Maria DeLuca. When he finally thought he might want to look into the mutual attraction that was once there it was too late. Sean and Liz had started to date.

Liz had changed a little, but she was still living with her parents and working in the CrashDown when they needed help. Maria worried about her, but remained silent. The attack on her last year left her with a scar across her neck and a slightly huskier voice. But otherwise, Liz seemed to have recovered nicely. She was still incredibly brown in color, but under the influence of Maria, she added more color to her wardrobe and the girls joked and had a good time together. It was strange to see Liz, Maria and Tess laughing and gossiping. Not so much Tess any longer.

About four months ago, Max finally asked Tess out on a date. At first he was concerned that Kyle and Tess were an item, but both Tess and Kyle had assured him that they were just friends. After not contacting each other for so long after Jack Hardy died, it wasn’t surprising how reluctant both of them were to lose that friendship again. Kyle told Max that he was surprised that Tess felt willing to date again after Jack’s death even though it was a few years later. Their relationship went on for two months until Tess finally broke it off. The breakup bothered him more than he could have explained. He hadn't actually felt that attached to Tess until she called it quits. Then he found himself brooding at the most inconvenient times.

Michael pulled Max back to the present day by the slamming of his phone. “I still don’t see why they spend so much money on a testing system that can’t be used because it isn’t validated. Why buy it if it’s not validated, and how the hell does it become validated?” Max stretched his arm trying to relieve some of the soreness from his mending shoulder as Michael ranted and raved. Michael was acting strange lately, and Max couldn’t figure it out. Next time he talked to Maria, he was going to ask her about it.

Suddenly Michael stopped talking, and Max stared at him, startled. “What’s up Michael?” His partner suddenly looked pale and tired.

“Sorry, I think this damn knee is causing me some problems. I need to take a quick break. My cell phone is on so call me if you need me, okay? I’ll be down in Holding.”

Michael quickly left his desk, or as quickly as he could while wearing his knee brace. Holding was on first floor, and Michael checked the holding cell board. Grabbing the key for the last cell, he headed to the main checkout desk. “Hey, Carl, I’m taking holding cell eight. Is there anyone in it?”

“Hey, Guerin! Man, you look like sh-it. You okay?”

“Got a little banged up yesterday. Cell eight?”

“Yeah, take it. It’s clear and clean. You want me to rouse you?”

“No, Max will call me if he needs me, otherwise give me about a half an hour to an hour.”

“Done.” Carl watched the larger man limp his way to the back holding block. Sometimes the Detectives and commanders used the cells for a nap if they were on an all night stakeout and couldn’t go home after a shift. Michael Guerin looked like he was on the verge of collapse. It was Thursday, so Carl hoped for Michael’s sake that he had the weekend off, because the man looked like he could use a break.

Michael quickly opened and the door of the cell and closed it behind him. Dropping on the first cot, he groaned his relief. He didn’t want to admit to Max that suddenly a wave of fatigue had hit him. It was nothing. He was just wearing down with all the stress of keeping up with Sean and Kyle. Maybe now that they were working as a team maybe he could power it down and get some real rest. Too bad about Hawaii, Maria would have looked great in a grass skirt... Michael closed his eyes and went to sleep.

~~~

“Maria... Maria wake up.”

Maria lifted her head from her desk where she had laid it on only a few moments previously. “What? Tess? Is there something...”

“Maria, your next class is in ten minutes. You’ve been sleeping for almost the last hour.”

Maria shook her head. That was impossible. She had just rested her eyes for a moment. Looking at the clock on her desk she moaned. Nope. Tess was correct. It was almost time for her next class. Dammit, she had wanted to talk to Tess too! Another opportunity lost.

“God. What class is this again?”

“Your freshmen.”

Maria put her head back down. “Oh kill me now...Where are my notes? It has to be the Forrest People. Maybe I should talk about the mating ritual of the pigmies and forgo talking about making the “pipe” sing until next week.”

“You look tired. You want me to take your class?” Tess asked the sleepy woman.

“Thanks, but you don’t look any more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed yourself. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Tess was shocked that Maria had noticed, but she tried to avoid the issue. She wasn’t ready to share or talk about it. “Maybe later.”

Maria stood up and stretched. She felt better. “Okay, but I’ll hold you to that. Now I better get my worthless butt going or I’ll be late for class. I’m leaving for lunch immediately following class. The Towers restaurant is where you can find me, otherwise I’ll be back in time for my one thirty.”

“Gotcha, Professor.” Maria just laughed at Tess’s response.

~~~

“Maria.”

Maria looked up from her menu to see her dining companion, Jonathan Stiller. He looked his usual well-put-together self, polished and expensive. He was wearing the latest Bergman’s serge cut, black suit with slim breasted lapels and a Capri-necked interlaced white silk shirt.

“Jonathan.” Maria smiled as he reached down and kissed her cheek. It was always 'Jonathan', never 'Jon' or 'Nathan'. It was always ‘Jonathan’; much like it was always 'Michael'.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Rude beast.”

“Nonsense. I just got here myself.” Maria watched as he put his napkin neatly in place and ordered a drink. Elegant. The man was poetry in motion.

“So what looks good?” Jonathan looked at Maria critically. She looked tired, but otherwise she was her usual sparkling, beautiful self. “Have you ordered?”

“I wouldn’t dare. Not without you!” Maria laughed softly as she chided him. Jonathan loved restaurants, loved food, and loved to order for the table regardless of how many people were eating with him.

“Brat. It’s true. I called the chef. He recommends a saddle of beef with rosemary stuffing, baby carrots cooked in saffron, and the spinach salad. Foie gras to start with toast points?”

“Sounds lovely, but only if you order me the shrimp and mushroom tureen as well.”

“Done.” Jonathan looked at their server. “Dom, did you get that order? Maria, wine?”

“I know it’s customary with the foie gras , but really I prefer a water with lemon. Pellengrino with lemon would be nice.” Maria decided she was already too sleepy to risk drinking anything alcoholic.

“Sounds good. I’ll do the same.” Jonathan handed over his menu and Maria’s to the server. “An old University buddy of mine is in town for the next few days on business. He’s trying to recover from a severe breakup.”

“Are there any other kinds?”

“Indeed.” Jonathan laughed at that. Maria was right. It didn’t matter how agreeable a breakup was, it was hardly ever an easy event. “Don’t tell me that you and the delectable, raging bull Detective have called it off.”

Maria smiled at Jonathan’s description of Michael. “No. We’re fine. Actually he was the emergency I had last night...which I meant to thank you for covering for me.”

Jonathan just waved off the thanks. Maria was a sweetie. It was easy to do things for her. Now Amy DeLuca was another story. “Not a problem. I was there anyway, and I guessed it had to do with the Great Sulky One. Does he know you’re lunching with me?”

“Yes, he does.”

Jonathan waved over their server. “Dom, set up another seating and inform the Garçon that Detective Guerin may be arriving soon and to clear the front entry way from any possible explosions.”

“Stop it. Dom, ignore Mr. Stiller. He is merely being humorous the only way he knows how.” Maria watched Dom leave. “That’s not nice. Michael doesn’t come rushing after me all the time when I have a meal with you.”

“He does. The man is a raging jealous lover determined to protect his property. And don’t think I’m overreacting. I saw the news reports on the closing of the Palisades. Michael?”

Maria just shrugged, but refused to give Jonathan the satisfaction by confirming Michael caused the destruction in any way. “It was a terrible accident.”

“It always is. I guess if you won’t satisfy my curiosity I will have to wait until the City Board meeting next week.” Maria winced. Poor Michael. His name came up a little too often at those meetings. He and Max were creating a reputation that wasn't necessarily good, and Kyle and Sean were joining them.

“So how was the auction? Did it go off smoothly?” Maria asked innocently.

“Nice change of subject, Maria. Yes, it was a success.” Jonathan admired Maria’s loyalty to her mate. It was sweet the way she protected his good name and defended him to others.

“Did you take that sweet boy you’re dating, umm..Gabriel?”

Jonathan laughter drew the attentions of other diners. “ Gabriella is very much a female, Maria.”

“Are you sure?” Maria frowned. If she was a woman then she was a very tall, thin woman with a masculine, close-cut hairstyle and no hips.

”She’s a model. Not that I’m opposed to male companionship, but it’s been years since I was involved with a male. Not since my University days when my friend who is visiting and I had a three month thing.” Jonathan thought about it for a second. Yeah, that was the last time. Interesting.

“Damn, are you sure?” Jonathan nodded. “Well feed the poor thing a sandwich or something. Is this visiting friend gay?”

“Yes, but he’s not here to hit on me. More than likely he needs some connections for a new business deal he has going. Albuquerque is fast becoming glutted in the software industry, so I hope some dot-com business isn’t the angle he’s working. I’ll let you know later. I promised to go out barhopping with him tonight. It should prove to be a real crushing bore, but he only visits every few years, and usually only when he wants something.”

Maria looked her friend over with more than a little critical eye. He was a tall lean man, with strong shoulders, dark hair, and a wicked smile. What Maria noticed the most about him was his dark eyes. They were sometimes almost bottomless, and she was sure that they hid many secrets. The man was a fashion plate stepping straight out of GQ, and his business savvy was worthy of a Fortune 500 company. All in all, the packaging was very nice.

“I’m sure he really wanted to see you too.”

“I’m sure.” Jonathan liked the eternal optimism of Maria DeLuca. Despite any and all hardships she had had to bear, she always found a way to climb above them and go on. It was that shining spirit refusing to die that attracted people to her.

They ate their lunch and discussed the event of the previous evening. And despite Jonathan’s teasing expectations, Michael did not crash their lunch date. Maria was actually surprised and pleased. Finally before they both needed to leave, Jonathan changed the subject again.

“I had a run-in with your boss last night. I think I outed you.”

Maria paused from pushing another bite of the three-chocolate torte into her mouth. “My boss? Kenneth Price? I don’t understand.”

“He’s been bidding for a position on the Board of Trustees at the University, and on the Foundation. I’ve been blocking his seat. The man lacks any real skill or warmth, and the Board needs people who can think outside the box, show compassion, and make hard decisions.” Jonathan pushed his uneaten dessert towards Maria who, without even looking, started devouring it. “That, and I hate the little weasel's guts. He is...an ass-licking brown-noser looking for the main chance, and I hate the way he sidles up to me.”

“So how did you 'out' me exactly?” Maria was shocked at Jonathan breaking his refinement to actually show his dislike of Kenneth Price.

Jonathan had enough guilt to actually look ashamed. “I basically told him that he would never get a seat as long as I had a say, and that I was recommending you for the Board.”

Maria remembered her Chair’s reaction earlier in the day. “Oh God, you didn’t! He hates me, and thinking I’m getting that coveted seat must have sent him off the deep end.”

“Worse. He started ranting over every little thing he considered to be a shortcoming of yours, and how he couldn’t understand why the Foundation and the Board were so lenient over your discipline problems, and on and on. Anyway, I mentioned that neither the Foundation nor the Board considered you inefficient or lacking in discipline, and it would be hard for the Foundation to dislike you since you are the Foundation .”

“Oh God...!” Maria could feel her life racing out of control and the lights of the room receding fast as it became hard to breath. Oh no. She wasn’t going to have a panic attack. She didn’t do that anymore. Instead, she was going to go find Michael and take her anxieties out on him. Immediately.

Jonathan watched what little color Maria had wash out of her face. “Let me pick up the check.”

~~~

On her way to the Roswell PD after lunch, Maria called Tess and asked her to cover her Senior thesis class. They were all doing reading searches so lecturing wasn’t necessary. Maria by-passed returning to the University for the day and went in search of anxiety relief.

“Jim?”

Valenti looked up at Maria standing in his doorway. Smiling, he motioned her in and watched her take a seat. The young woman looked too thin and very tired. Living with Michael Guerin had to be energy consuming, so he held his tongue about asking her about how she felt.

“Maria, honey. To what do I owe this pleasure? This is twice this week. Yesterday, and now today.”

“I know. I swear I’m not sticking my nose in the middle of a case again.” Maria reassured her soon to be stepfather.

Jim winced. He actually still felt bad about the last time. Maria helped them with a large case only six weeks ago, and Jim had been under pressure from Amy, who was concerned about Maria being involved in another murder investigation. It was the sixth investigation she had involved herself in since the one that introduced her to Michael over a year ago. Amy was still overprotective and worried, and she tended to work Jim up over the same things.

“That’s okay, honey. I didn’t think you were. I know all the cases assigned to Guerin and Evans, and they are on undercover assignment tonight and desk duty otherwise, until Michael’s knee mends.”

Maria went over and sat on Jim’s desk facing him. Leaning down she kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Jim. Getting him to take a break is next to impossible.”

“I know. I got the doctor’s report about his knee. It’s just a strained ligament, but it still needs to be tended to.”

“So where is my grumpier half? I came to see him.”

Jim just smiled at her description of Michael. “He’s probably at the loft. He, Max, Sean, and Kyle are participating in a Vice operation. They’re no doubt getting rested and dressed for tonight’s events.” Jim smiled and told Maria what the assignment was, enjoying her amusement over it all.

~~~

When Maria entered the loft she could hear her sort-of brother, Kyle whining.

“I’m not wearing this. It’s...it’s degrading!”

“No way, sweetpea. You look a dream.” Sean said in his gayest voice.

Michael was lounging on the sofa drinking a beer and watching the others. Smirking and making loud rude comments, the man was obviously enjoying himself. It was the snaking of Maria’s arms around his neck from behind that alerted him to the fact she was home.

“Having fun, Detective?”

Michael looked back at her over his shoulder. “You’ve got no idea. This is gonna be an operation to talk about for years to come.”

“I went by the PD. Jim told me about the assignment. Guess this means I’m eating alone tonight, huh?”

“Sorry, Professor. Cap’s orders. We can have food with you before we take off if you like.” Michael reached behind her and grabbed her body pulling her over the sofa and into his arms, planting her firmly to his side. Kissing her quickly, and smiling against her skin, he rested for a moment and murmured, “I’ll make the rest of it up to you later. I promise.”

“You could take me too, and let me sit at the bar and observe.”

“Nope. Not gonna happen. You'd be alone there since I’m assigned to the command van. The bum knee puts me off the street.”

Sean came over and gave his cousin a kiss on the cheek. “That’s not true. They took one look at him. Saw that sh-itty obstinate look that screams both ‘cop’ and ‘straight’ in one glance, and put him on monitors.”

“Sean, you’re going to be gay? How will you manage?” Maria teased.

“That’s my little bratty cousin.” Sean tossed himself down on her other side and blew raspberries on her neck while she squirmed in Michael’s arms.

“Back off, Sean.” Sean looked over and frowned. Michael’s voice was dark and forbidding. It had an edge in it that Sean recognized from over a year ago when Michael was jealous of anyone touching Maria. He had lost that possessiveness over half a year ago, but suddenly it sounded like it was back.

Maria recognized the tone too, and looked at Michael. “What’s up, Detective?”

Michael jaw clenched. “Nothing.”

“Well, I came looking for you for a reason today. So if I can tear you away from these male beauties, can we talk upstairs?”

Michael just nodded and awkwardly stood up pulling Maria with him. What the hell was wrong with him? He was feeling a dark raging jealousy in him again. His possessive manner nearly caused him to lose her once. She had almost ended their relationship shortly after it began because of the overwhelming jealousy he had exhibited, the overprotective and overbearing possessiveness. He thought he was over that, but in the last few weeks the dark feeling would rise and choke him. He still retained some of the jealousy towards certain people, but most days he was able to calmly talk himself out of it.

Maria stopped suddenly on her way towards the stairs, forcing Michael to stop also. Max had emerged from the room under the stairs that Sean had once used before he took over Michael’s old apartment a year before.

“Oh! Oh my! Pretty!” Max actually blushed at Maria’s assessment. He was wearing tight black leather pants; a colorful silk shirt tucked into the pants with most of the buttons undone. A large leather belt circled his waist, matching a leather band around his wrist. Maria smiled at the eyeliner. Max Evans looked too pretty to be considered ‘straight’. He looked the perfect gay man, if he would just loosen up his stance and posture.

Michael growled under his breath and dragged her up the stairs.

“Hey, I’m just saying!” Maria looked back and winked at Max. “You look good, Maxie!”

The last thing Maria heard from Max as Michael pulled her into their bedroom was, “Someone kill me.”

Maria took the initiative and went into the bathroom knowing Michael would follow. Turning on the shower, Maria slowly started to undress.

“You going to just watch, or you going to join me? Can your leg take the pressure of standing up?”

“Whoa, slow down Professor. First tell me why you came to find me today.”

Maria dropped her blouse and skirt leaving her in only skimpy underwear. Going over to Michael she unbuttoned his shirt.

“I had a craving and need for you. My intentions weren’t honorable, nor are they at this moment. I was going to jump you in the PD stairway to get off and relieve myself of some stress.” Maria smiled as Michael easily removed her bra. “It was either the stairway or a blowjob in the men’s bathroom.”

Michael swore out loud. He hated missing out on being used. “Want to tell me what caused all the stress?” He leaned back and watched her hands go for the waistband of his sweats. Suddenly she reached down and released the Velcro straps on his knee brace, and his sweats were gone.

“Later...” Maria was backing them up to the running shower.

“Uh uh. Rule number seventeen states that we’re allowed to use the other as a relief valve, but only if we admit what it is that tweaked us to begin with.” Michael almost rescinded rule seventeen when her mouth found the side of his neck with her teeth, and her hand moved down his body to grip his penis in her incredibly sensual hand.

“You know I was having lunch with Jonathan today, right?” Maria continued without noticing Michael's response. He knew there was something he had meant to do for lunch. He had had every intention of crashing her lunch date, but the unexpected nap knocked him off his schedule, and the lunch was lost in the shuffle. “Anyway, he told me that he outed me to Toady Price.”

“Outed you how?” Michael groaned when the hot water hit his skin. He didn’t realize how sore he was from the scuffle the other day.

“He told Price that I’m the Foundation .” Maria poured some body wash on a bath sponge and began to wash his body. “Thing is that Price stopped me this morning on my way to my first class and complained about my position as curator of the Museum again, among other things. I couldn’t figure out why he was so upset until Jonathan told me about outing me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“F-uck you into a early grave, or until I feel better.” Maria said casually. Michael smiled at the suggestion. “I just know that he’s working up the nerve to find out the extent of my relationship to the Foundation, and how he can manipulate it to his advantage. I don’t want to have to deal with telling him that I’ve got no voting power on the Foundation board, and their decisions are final. It’s going to make my working relationship with him even more difficult than it is already.”

“I think I see what you’re saying.” Michael moaned when she moved the sponge over his body. The warm water felt good on his knee. They should’ve done this in the bath. He wasn’t sure he could take their combined weight on his bum knee. “Sooner or later, he’s going to ask you to help him, and when he finds out you can’t help, he’s going to feel humiliated by asking in the first place, and your already terrible relationship is going to go even further south.”

“Exactly...” Maria said as her mouth moved down his clean body. He looked so very tasty. Michael nibblet.

“We’ve got company downstairs.” Michael felt compelled to mention. Like he gave two figs about the men downstairs, dolling up for their night hanging in a gay bar and trying to sting some gaybashers.

"Then I'd better give you a good fast one, hadn't I?" Maria said. With a deep breath taking in the smell of his skin, she looked up at him and offered up her face for a kiss.

Growling, Michael let go of reason, and swooped down to capture the pouting lips waiting for him. So many things about this woman touched him, and one of them was her honest lack of inhibition. Thinking dimly that Maria kissed like she did everything else in her life, wholeheartedly and with enthusiasm, he tried to make it a gentle one at first. But when Maria opened her lips to tease Michael's with her tongue, need erupted. He took that tongue into a deep, sucking kiss, matching the pattern of it to the rocking of his hips. God, he loved her hands on him! His thrusts into her perfect grasp on him were wild, urgent, and he ripped his mouth away to try to warn her.

"Good, good, Detective, do it for me, do it..." Maria encouraged him before he could. She watched him as he leaned back against the tile and tossed his head back, then suddenly he bent to take her tongue in his mouth again.

"Oh no, oh no, too fast, make it last, make it last..." Michael's voice trailed off. He really didn’t have much time, and there were three other men downstairs waiting for him. No wonder she didn’t chose the bath. If they had gotten in a large bath of warm water, he wouldn’t have come out for hours.

“Shhhh...” Maria said as her mouth moved down his body. It took a moment before he realized where she was going as her mouth joined her hand, and the other hand moved sensually down his body to join the other one. “Be very, very quiet...” She whispered against his c-ock.

With both hands wrapped around the base, moving simultaneously with his mouth, Maria deep-throated the thick shaft, and then pulled back to just the head. Moving her mouth along the under side, and then back to take it back in her hot mouth as far to the hilt as possible. She wasn't able to take it all, but it was enough for Michael. She was so close and kept improving with practice.

"Damn, damn!" he shouted, then groaned over and over as he pulsed out and into Maria's throat. Each groan was quieter, and more drawn out, until Michael wasn't able to stay upright any longer. With a final sound more like a whimper than anything, he collapsed down the tiles, as Maria moved up and over his body.

Hot and ready, Maria cuddled the bigger body to her smaller one until Michael’s head cleared. Sprinkling kisses over his body, and nibbling at his lips and ears, she waited until Michael turned one of the nibbles into a serious kiss moving her body to straddle his hips. He lowered his hand down her stomach to the junction of her legs, and his fingers found their target with little to no effort.

“Your turn,” said Michael. He yearned to send the others away and take her to bed, but he knew he couldn’t. “God, Maria, what you start sometimes. I need more.”

"Touch me, oh god, Michael, please touch me!" Maria didn’t care. They could continue it later when they had more time. This would be enough for now.

Rolling them until he was lying half on top of Maria and she was flat on the tile floor of the shower, Michael responded to her frantic pleas by placing his finger against her lips. "Hang on...hang on...shh...shh..." he tried to reassure the writhing woman under him. "I'll take care of you."

"Michael," Maria panted, grabbing at his shoulders, "don't freak, ok? Please, please, please..." Maria couldn’t believe how far gone she already was from just a touch. Her skin was raw and on fire, and merely the abrasive brush of his skin was setting her nerve endings into overload. Hair trigger. Where the hell did that come from?

Wondering at the comment, Michael moved back and looked into her eyes. What he saw there made his heart speed up into an almost breakneck rate. Her eyes were wild, and her lip was bleeding were she had bitten it. Groaning, he sucked the bleeding lip into his mouth, letting the salty iron taste of her blood push his body into that same overload zone she was already in.

He peered down into Maria's lust-filled eyes, clearly seeing a mixture of both panic and fear. She was barely holding on the edge, and she didn’t want to go alone. Holding that molten emerald gaze, he grinned very, very, slowly and very, very widely. The panic in her eyes abated, cleared, and became delight, along with something more. The something more made Michael's grin stretch until he felt like a fool, and he nuzzled the end of Maria's nose with his own.

“Hard?” Michael asked with mischief, like he didn’t already know.

Maria just kissed the tip of his nose, and carefully rolled them. “Very hard. I better take the high road. You’ll bang up that knee. So just lie back, Detective, and take it like a pampered man. I promise it will be hard and fast.” Michael smiled at that. She was right. It was going to be real fast. They were both already on the edge. What the hell was going on with them and their bodies? Every touch, every look, every moment of every day was like a trigger that heated them almost to the breaking point. Just the sound of her voice over the phone made him hard most days.

Michael closed his eyes and put his head back as she lowered herself on him, taking his c-ock in one full movement straight to the hilt. Through half-closed eyes he watched her reach above his head to place her hand flat against the tiled wall while his hands went to her hips to help move her on him. Maria’s other hand was pushing hard on his chest to keep her body upright as she rode him.

His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. And just before the world exploded around his center, he opened his eyes to see her staring down at him all dark and silent, the passion and fire in her eyes were beyond this world, and the blood on her lip called to him. Raising his head he took her lip back into his mouth and bit it hard, making the blood flow again as he felt himself explode in her. Her nails embedded themselves in the skin of his chest leaving trails of blood as her body convulsed around his c-ock.

Michael became aware of the pounding water from the shower as it slowly became colder and colder. Maria was resting on him, careful of his knee. All she said before she collapsed on him was, “Ride 'em cowboy.”

“Maria, we need to move before we freeze to death in here.”

“No. Sleepy.”

Michael just chuckled at her boneless state. Normally he would have just turned off the water, picked her up and put her to bed to sleep it off, but unfortunately his knee made that impossible this time.

Shutting off the water, he reached down and lifted her body up his, taking a few minutes to kiss her. Her hand moved up his back to tangle in his wet hair. He could feel his body and skin heating up to her touch. What the hell was happening to them lately? He didn’t care. It felt too good.

Taking a towel off the towel bar for her, he wrapped her in it after wiping the moisture from her body. Wrapping a towel around his middle, he swatted her hands away. He didn’t have enough control, and it was getting late. Unless he wanted to spend the night nursing a hard-on, he needed to keep her hands off him until he came home and could do something about it.

“Maria, behave.” Michael grabbed his brace on the way out of the bathroom with Maria. “You still feeling stressed?”

Maria turned to look at him and smiled. “I’m feeling no pain.”

~~~

When Maria was heading down the stairs after getting dressed, she was concerned by the anger in Kyle’s voice echoing from below.

“No way. I’m not doing it!”

Maria slowly walked down the stairs and saw Michael standing in the living room with Sean, Max and Kyle. Michael motioned for her to hold back. Sitting on the stairs, Maria watched the group.

Max was all decked out like some ultra gay prettyboy, but Kyle was a totally different style. He was in leather pants with the top button unfastened, a fishnet cargo shirt showing his skin and he had temporary tattoos and leather strapping around his upper arms. The chains and handcuffs hanging off his belt shone with a startling silver brilliance. He was a leather slut boytoy.

Michael was silently watching the partners fight as Kyle argued with Sean. Tossing down some leather implement at Sean’s feet, Kyle stalked off into the kitchen to search the refrigerator. Maria slowly descended the stairs and went to help Kyle.

“I’m not going to hit him, Maria. I can’t.”

“It’s okay Kyle. Sean understands.” Maria looked over at the others. Max looked gray under his skin, but Michael showed not an ounce of reaction.

Bending down, Michael picked up the nine-tail whip and gestured towards the bedroom under the stairs. Sean just acknowledged it and headed that way.

Maria turned back to Kyle and changed the subject, not wanting Kyle to hear what was going to happen in the other room. Michael would take care of Sean. He would understand. “Let's put out the fixings for sandwiches, Kyle. You guys need to eat before you go out. How about Pizza?”

~~~

“How deep you want it?” Michael asked quietly.

Sean took off his leather vest. He wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath it. “Deep. Alternating depth. Leave some obvious ones on the front, but do the back too, because if only the front has welts it'll be obvious.” For the first time since they entered the room he looked Michael in the eyes. “Make a few bleed.”

Sean turned and braced himself on the wall not even wincing when the leather strap hit his flesh. It was harder to hold himself in check when he turned to let Michael do his front. Michael had a controlled hand. He left small light welts, deeper ones, and a few bleeding cuts. After he finished, Michael tossed the whip on the bed.

“Thanks Michael. I shouldn’t have asked Kyle.”

“No, no you shouldn’t have.” Michael said quietly. It was hard to miss the prominent bulge in Sean’s tight leather pants. Michael watched as he carefully threaded a nipple ring and winced from the pain of a welt that had landed across the areola.

“We don’t know what the suspects goes for. It’s necessary.” Sean explained.

”I know.” Michael understood why it would be harder for both Max and Kyle to beat Sean, but for Michael it wasn’t any worse than many other things he had done while working Vice, and not as bad as some things Sean had also gotten into during his stint. “I also know that you liked it.”

“None of your business, Guerin.” Sean headed for the door, but Michael stopped him cold with a hand to his upper arm gripping him hard.

“How long Sean? How long have you had the taste?” Sean tried to pull away.

“I told you to leave it, Michael!”

“Liz Parker doesn’t look to be the type who carries a touch of pain and domination. Tell me I’m wrong. I would’ve classified her as missionary with doggie panting and eyes closed.” Sean finally pulled free.

“She’s not into it, and the rest is none of your damn business.”

Michael planted himself in front of Sean again. “Maybe I’m making it my business, after all I’m the whiphand that gave you that hard-on. You don’t have to call me Master, but you can give me some truth, or just give it to yourself.”

“What do you wanna know?” Sean asked recognizing his place in this power struggle.

“Liz Parker. I don’t have much in common with her, but she’s become a sort of friend. Does she know about this?”

Sean sat on the bed. “No. And I don’t want her to know.”

“That’s unfair. What you gonna do Sean, sell your soul for a piece of vanilla while dreaming and wanting the lash? Are you happy, or you sliding out for a slice?”

“I’m trying, okay. We’re not exclusive, but I’ve only tripped out a few times. Nothing big.”

“Nothing big to you? Or to her?” Michael asked directly and to the point. It did make a difference.

“Michael...it’s my sickness, okay? Mine.” Sean stood up to leave.

Michael stopped him again. “It’s not a sickness, Sean. It’s a choice, a lifestyle. Some need it, some play with it, and some fear it. It’s a lifestyle, and choosing an alternative one because it’s a ‘norm’ or deemed ‘healthy’ by society is a hard road to walk when all you want is fire and a cutting edge.”

“How do you know? You into this too?” Sean reached forward and lifted the front of Michael’s shirt from his body seeing the bloody scratches left there by Maria. “You and Maria?” Sean almost bent over in pain from the envy at the thought of finding a life partner that was part of it and not having to live a lie.

“No, we’re not into pain. This is another choice, another lifestyle.” Michael ended the discussion there. He wasn’t going to talk about the intimate parts of his life with Maria with anyone but her.

“You understand then?” Sean asked quietly.

“Some of it, and more of other things.” Michael sat down next to Sean for a few moments trying to find the words he should have said a year ago. “I understood why you offered to kill me when I met Maria, why you offered the bullet to me.” Sean looked at him in astonishment and admiration.

“How? Did Maria tell you?”

“No. I just knew. You’re a Mafia son. When Mafia sons are born they’re given a special bullet, usually engraved with the family crest or symbol.” Sean reached into his pocket and pulled out the bullet he carried with him everywhere. It was like his badge and gun. He never left home without it. Michael looked at the symbol on it and handed it back to Sean. Three times. Sean had offered to kill him three times. It was a code of honor, one warrior to another. The Spartans understood the symbolic code of men of arms. They brought their warriors home on their shields.

“When you’re born, there’s the code. It’s honor, duty, and family. It’s a time-honored code dating back farther than anyone can remember. The bullet is your final rest. You protect and honor your family, or eat the bullet as your last act of contrition as you die trying. When I left my family, they disowned me and I became dead to them, because I should’ve taken this bullet, taken my own life before dishonoring my name, my blood, and my family.”

“I know.” Michael never stopped feeling the honor Sean had offered him when he offered him the bullet. It was a timeless understanding that only soldiers, warriors, a Praetorian could understand. “I never thanked you for standing for me when I thought Maria was dying in my arms. It wasn’t about Maria, or not being able to live without her.” Though Michael doubted he would or could have continued on, because she had become so entangled in his life. But that was something that didn’t belong to this discussion. It was private.

“I knew that. It was about those that bleed to death in your protection, in your arms. A protector can only take so much failure until they become useless, ineffective.”

“Yeah. If I had survived, and Maria didn't, it would’ve been the final straw. I would’ve walked away. What is a soldier who can no longer serve or protect? Patton said that old soldiers don’t die; they just fade away. He was wrong. They don’t fade. If the soldier were lucky he would die in battle and not live to feel his own impotence. They live on, endlessly reliving all their failures over and over again. The blood of the innocents would’ve never stopped flowing.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. I understood.” Sean said as he turned to look at Michael. Two identical sets of eyes stared at each other, silently understanding more than could ever be spoken. Only one warrior to another could appreciate the drive. One warrior soul that lived a lifetime on alien soil, and the other from a long line of ancient soldiers dating back before Roman times. They were different, galaxies apart, and yet in a cosmic trick of continuity they were the same.

Michael headed for the door. But before he could leave, Sean called after him. “I still carry that bullet with your name, Michael.” The word 'Brother' was unspoken, but understood.

“Thank you,” said Michael quietly. “I do the same for you.” Michael put his hand on the doorknob, but hesitated one last time. “Sean, the thing about pain is that it can harm, but it can also heal. Spending your life afraid of the pain, and using physical abuse to help desensitize you to impeding future pain and suffering that will cripple you is worthless.” Michael turned back to Sean. “Especially if the pain you’re trying to protect yourself against is mental anguish. That pain cuts deeper than any knife, and the edges never heal. They're just forever imprinted in our brains. Using pain as punishment or retribution only helps if you find forgiveness, and that only comes from the soul.”

Sean sat on the bed after Michael left the room. Reaching beside him on the bed, he held the whip and wondered when he had stopped feeling anything except the pain.

*******************************************************************************