
By DocPaul
Email:
DocPaul2002@yahoo.ca
Rating:
NC-17
Summary:
M&M AU story with strong ensemble casts. The Praetorians is a cop
drama murder mystery that takes place in
Roswell
,
NM
. This is the first story in a
trilogy. A hard case police detective, Michael
Guerin
meets Professor Maria DeLuca during a murder case. None of the alien children
realize they are aliens. This story is the building of a legend…of a King and
his modern Praetorian Guards.
Warning:
The Praetorian Universe is a dark one, so the lives of the characters
hold some angst.
Timeline:
None. All the characters are grownups and professionals in their careers.
Only Kyle, Tess, and Liz lived and were raised in
Roswell
, the other came later. Liz Parker was still shot in the Crashdown at the age of
16, but there was no alien Max there to save her. This is a look at life down an
alternate path.
Author’s
note/dedication: This story is for Margo, Julia, Mike, and Jackie who had as
much to creating it as I did. The Universe is dark at times…darker than it
needs to be, but it is all about survival.
Disclaimer:
Roswell
and its characters belong to Twentieth Century Fox TV and Regency for
Roswell
and its characters. But the story and Praetorian Universe is my own, and all
original characters. Though Michael and Maria do not belong to me, I reserve the
right to take them out, give them a real story, because I love them more than
their owners.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE PRAETORIANS
For Margo and Julia
PART 1
Maria DeLuca rounded the corner of the hall, taking the short flight of stairs
down into the converted basement offices. Even the addition of new lighting and
carpeting couldn't disguise that it was still a basement. Someday maybe, she
would graduate to an upstairs office with a window, but right now the basement
office was the place to be.
Stopping on her way to her office at the end of the hall, she opened the TA's
lounge to see if her personal assistant was anywhere in sight. Seeing the small
blond sitting at a table with a few other graduate students, Maria entered the
room and poured herself a cup of the worst coffee that Roswell had to offer.
"Tess, did the shipment arrive yet?" Maria tried not to notice how a
few of the students jumped up when she entered and started grabbing their books.
This University wasn't a happy one. The departments were fragmented and at war,
and the Department Head was a first class jerk.
"Oh no, not yet, Maria...um... Professor DeLuca!" Maria smiled at
Tess's lapse in using her name and then calling her professor. It really didn't
matter to her, but The Powers That Be had sent out another memo last week
reminding all Department Heads that a certain amount of professional decorum
needed to be maintained at all times between faculty and staff, the underpaid
student workers, and the students themselves.
The University of New Mexico Roswell literally sucked, and that was literally
since the dumb-assed Professor of Modern Linguistics, Gerald Tiny was caught
with his pants down and his dick doing the happy dance in a co-ed's mouth. Yeah,
life really sucked in Roswell. But honestly, Gerald Tiny? The name was it's own
disclaimer for a well balanced life. The man was doomed from the getgo. What
were his parents thinking? Her friend Dianne in the History Department, told her
that the name "tiny" was very appropriate, that the descriptive
properties were well deserved. Personally, Maria didn't want to touch that with
a ten-foot stick.
Maria quickly thanked Tess and left the room. It didn't seem fair to disrupt the
nice haven the TA's had by hanging out in their room. It was hard not to miss
the fun of listening to their discussions, and it wasn't like she was so much
older than the rest of them. In truth, since most of them were graduate
students, and she had just finished her masters degree last Fall before
accepting this position as an Assistant Professor while finishing up her PhD,
she was actually the same age as some, and even younger than others. But
somehow, at twenty-six she felt so much older when around them, and way too
young at other times around other professors.
It would've been a nice distraction to discuss Gerald Tiny's tiny member or how
it was hardly a mouthful, but no! She was forced to discuss it with the other
professors in the staff lounge in a quiet dignified manner. Thank goodness for
Dianne! Last night they had gone out for a movie and dinner, and talked about
the tiniest endowment in the history of UNM Roswell. Honestly, it must have been
a man that said that it wasn't the size that counted, but what they did with it!
But if a man thought "making love" was sticking it in, wiggling it all
about, doing the hokey pokey and pulling out, then actually a few extraneous
inches could go far to smooth some of the insult and injury. Or at the very
least give a person something to talk to the girlfriends about on the next
girls' night out.
"Oh yeah, he was a speed demon with a three minute record to break, but man
you just had to check out the size of his schlong." Maria started to hum to
herself, "Where Have all the Real Men Gone?", while stooping to pick
up the usual pile of messages shoved under her door from frantic students abound
with excuses or requests. She started to toss them on her desk when she noticed
the Monster Desk from Hell covered in unfinished work, class notes, grade books,
unmarked bluebooks, and unread essays threatening to grow legs and walk away. If
she tossed the messages on her desk now in the state it was in, chances to ever
find them again was roughly Spring of 2003. Oh well... Maria tossed them anyway
because the floor looked just as bad.
"Oh god, this can't be right!" Maria put her head back outside her
office and read her name on the door. Dammit, The Project (not to be said with a
small case) was an unwieldy, jealous lover sucking up all her free time down a
vortex.
"The Project" was her nemesis, the bane of her existence. It was the
outfitting and creation of a specialty museum for both the Anthropology
Department and History Department to display and manage their growing
collections of artifacts. The State Antiquities Board, a subdivision of the
Board of Regents, authorized the creation of an Anthropology and Historical
Museum and Archaeological Institution at the University, and it was Maria's
worst nightmare. As the youngest and newest member to the Anthropology teaching
staff, and a doctorial candidate, somehow she found herself volunteered to
supervise the creation and outfitting of the new museum.
It had been an eight month nightmare, full of building codes, reconstruction and
renovation of a historical building on campus, the fight for office space within
the building itself by various departments, the fight for display space, the
building of dioramas and interactive displays for the young visitors, and the
creation of a research library to house a collection of journal and books. The
displays and construction were done, but the arrival of the collections, both
artifacts and books, was creating havoc. Maria had a full staff of researchers
and students furiously cataloguing and recording all the collections as they
were slowly placed in display cases.
The problems started with the decrepit building, the large white elephant, that
they tried to tear down to have a bright new shiny building built in its place.
But no, the city's largest wacko came with protesters, posters, media coverage
and chains and demanded the building be preserved and registered in a historical
registry as a preserved building in New Mexico historical registry. Sure, Maria
could have cursed the organizer who started all the trouble, or even threaten
her with bodily harm, (okay she did threaten her), but it was all in a moment of
extreme pressure. The University community looked on in horror as the political
warfare raged for months until finally they caved and decided to preserve the
fine piece of heritage and give it a new purpose. And Roswell's largest wacko
walked away happy, feeling she had accomplished her goal. Of course Maria tended
to call the wacko, "Mom", so her dealings with the moral crusader were
never over.
Then there were the fights with the building inspectors holding special
regulations and codes for historical buildings-- again, Mom's fault. Then, once
the building was finally renovated and up to code, the real fun began. Every
department with space in the Museum had ideas, endless ideas for displays,
interactive educational dioramas, and all those suggestions were deposited on
Maria's desk, as the happy requesters walked away knowing they were getting what
they wanted, leaving the actually physical work to Maria.
So, looking at her overburdened desk, at the stacks of work, and all of it
needing to be done yesterday, Maria psyched herself up for yet another all night
session. Sex? Did people still stay up all night having sex, or something even
possibly resembling a real life? Maria couldn't say. That seemed like something
that happened on television or maybe the movies, but surely not real life? She
vaguely remembered staying up all night with a boyfriend engaging not in the
best of sex, but what was lacking in quality made up in quantity.
She couldn't even remember her last boyfriend's name. Maybe Wally? No. Walter?
No, it was Sam. Okay, how the heck did she go from Wally to Sam? No, that wasn't
right either. Surely he had a name, or even a face. Maybe she would someday go
home to her apartment, walk in and find her last boyfriend was still there with
his new wife and children. He waited so long for her to get back to him that he
forgot the place wasn't his. Bastard. Dammit, she was beginning to envy Gerard
Tiny with his tiny dick, because at least it was getting some action!
Tess came up behind her boss and friend with a look of concern. The young woman
was talking to herself with an occasional "Bastard!" coming out of her
mouth. She just stood there in her office door gesticulating wildly and
incoherently, making a few obscene gestures to increase the effectiveness of the
"Bastards"!
"Maria? Are you okay?"
"No! It's still here! All of it's still here! I've worked every night for
the last two weeks to get caught up in my class work, and the pile actually
looks bigger!" Maria turned to look at Tess in horror. "I think I'm
de-evolving. Someday you'll come in and see a puddle of primordial ooze and say
good morning to it." Maria's voice changed to have a perky high squeaky
sound to it. "My Professor DeLuca that puke green shade of ooze is so
becoming for you. I brought you a cup of complex amino acids." Maria spied
a cup in Tess's hand, and a gleam of interest, no lust entered her eyes.
"Is that coffee?"
Tess looked down at what she had, quickly putting it behind her back. "No,
of course not, it's...um...spit. Nasty, very vile stuff." No way she was
going to give the deranged woman in front her more caffeine. No, the only thing
that would help her now wasn't more stimulation, but Prozac-a lot of Prozac.
"It's not that bad." Maria turned glassy eyes on Tess, eyes that
hadn't seen more than a few hours of sleep in over two weeks, with a look of
disbelief.
Tess quickly became silent again. Okay maybe that wasn't the right thing to say.
Maria circled the room gesturing to piles of books on the floor reaching upward
to the ceiling, the piles of papers covering every available space, and then her
desk, The Monster. "Tess, not bad? You're saying this isn't bad?"
Maria suddenly spied something against her far wall. Tess almost had a heart
attack at the scream coming from Maria's mouth. "What the hell is
that?"
Tess followed the pointing finger, and gave a groan. Changing her mind, Tess
calmly handing the cup of coffee to Maria, she steered the young woman to her
office chair. "It's a few deliveries for the museum. They showed up late
Friday." Maria was drinking the coffee like it was a lifeline, holding it
cupped in her hands.
"No. No-no. No! NO! I told them! I told the mailroom to send all deliveries
to the museum, not here." It took her over two months, and numerous
football players from her classes to get all the misdirected deliveries out of
her office then. After that, she had to flirt and schmooze the mail coordinator,
Dickie with offers of dinner and perhaps numerous acts of fellatio to get the
delivery problems fixed. Oh dammit, she must have forgotten to follow through!
Sighing, Maria looked down at her daily calendar. Okay, something that would
have to be fixed later. "Okay, let's just not worry about it any longer,
but any more deliveries come for the museum, refuse them. Send them back to the
mailroom and let them sort out the mistakes. Now we're going to need more coffee
and some space because today we're going to clear my desk off. I've a class at
ten and another at three. So let's get to work."
*******************************************************************************
It wasn't there. All the packages had been rifled, opened, searched, and it
wasn't there. Moving through the dark rooms, the dark figure searched every
corner and every office hoping to find it, finally giving up because time was
too short. It was the flickering of light down the hall that had the figure move
into the shadows. The night guard was too early. Without the formal alarm system
in place, the security service was forced to send guards on patrol. Taking the
flashlight in hand, and waiting for the guard to come closer, the figure
prepared to remove the problem so the rest of the place could be searched
without incident.
The older man looked up from his work at the figure in the doorway, startled to
be interrupted so late at night. "Oh, it's you." He quickly got up and
closed the door behind the figure. "Are you crazy? What if someone saw you?
I told you to never come here."
"It wasn't there."
"Yes it is. I saw the invoices." The old man paused, realizing what
the missing item meant. "What did you do?"
"I searched for it, and it wasn't there." The figure loomed menacingly
over the older man. "I searched everything."
"You only had a ten minute window before security did their rounds."
The sweat broke out on his head as the older man reached for his cup of coffee
trying to quell the rising fear.
"Things were done. It happened, but I couldn't find it, and I can't go
back," the gloved hands came down on the table, "so that leaves you.
You've got to find it and bring it to me. If you fail, I can't tell you how
unhappy it'll make me." And as the dark figure moved out of the office and
merged into the surrounding night, fear was a legacy left behind.
********************************************************************************
Maria tried to juggle her coffee, book bag, purse, and an armful of papers while
opening the doors to the museum. Today she was blissfully free of classes, and
her poor neglected students knew to look for her here. Not that many of them
were stupid enough to come to the museum. It was a known fact that entering
those hallowed halls might mean being roped into doing some type of manual
labor.
It was surprising that Chris, the security guard, wasn't there to open the door
for her. He was usually waiting for her, but not today. Entering the building,
it felt too quiet, but then again first thing in the morning it frequently did.
Taking her stuff slowly to her museum office with the title of curator on the
door, Maria was happy to unload her burden. Her office here was almost as bad as
her office in the Anthropology building with the saving grace of being large,
airy, and having a beautiful window. It seemed messier than usual...
Maria backed out of the room, looking it over with pensive eyes and trying to
reconstruct how it looked last time she locked the door. It felt wrong, just
wrong. For the first time since entering the building, its silence was causing
the hair on her neck to stand up.
Carefully walking down the hall, she slowly looked around corners and down long
silent halls into the main cathedral room. Walking to the nearest sectional, the
Egyptian Kingdom, Maria stopped in the doorway. It was trashed. All the boxes
were opened, contents poured out. Stepping back, Maria slowly moved further down
the hall to the next room, the Peruvian Pre-Columbian Textiles. It was equally
trashed, too. All the textiles, thousands of years old, were dumped on the floor
without care, piles of them discarded. Maria would have had a holy fit, if it
weren't for the shoe she saw as she backed out of the room. Swallowing her fear,
she slowly walked towards the shoe, and rounding the crates, she found Chris.
********************************************************************************
Yeah, come to Roswell, small town with little to no crime! It'll be good for
you! Right. Michael Guerin looked around the corner of the building he was
leaning up against. There he was. Benny. Looking back beside him at this
partner, he smirked to see Max Evans brushing down his immaculate pants. Not so
immaculate, now that he got crud off the building on him. If the man would just
wear jeans like Michael instead of pressed trousers to look more like a lawyer
than a detective, he wouldn't have such a huge cleaning bill.
"That's him. Let's go partner." Michael took off, confident that Max
would be right on his heel. They had been partners for two years, but friends
for longer than that. Crossing the street, Michael came up fast behind Benny the
Snitch, and took him by his left arm while Max took the right one.
"Hey, Benny, thought I told ya to leave the life." Michael smirked as
the man looked at him and his eyes widened.
"Guerin, man I swear, I'm clean! So clean! I don't got a scratch on me, not
even a sniff!" Benny actually started to sweat in the cool morning air. Max
made a sound at his side, a sound of disbelief, like they were going to believe
that.
"Benny... Benny... you should know better than to lie to my partner. Guerin
hasn't even had his morning coffee and donut, and you know how he gets!"
Benny looked at the tall man to his left and moved closer to Max.
"Evans, ya have to square it for me! Tell your partner that I'm so clean.
Yeah, like totally pure and razor, Man!" Max just shook his head and tsked
at the obvious lie. A reliable source told them that Benny was back on the
streets dealing in illegal trade for drops of smack, and he was dealing on the
side.
Michael turned and looked at the smaller anorexic looking man, appearing about
thirty years older than his twenty-seven years. "Benny, you're going to
make me hurt you before breakfast, aren't ya? Get in the damn car!" Michael
pushed Benny into the backseat of Max's Black SUV. Getting into the passenger's
seat Michael looked at his partner without looking back at Benny. "Maxwell,
hit a drive through, I hate doing early morning torture on an empty
stomach." Both Max and Michael kept facing forward with smiles on their
faces at the gasping from the backseat.
A few hours later, after leaving Benny sweating in the interrogation room,
Michael went to report to the Captain. Valenti was a fair man, hard headed and
tough, but fair. Michael liked him. Valenti was helping to restore his faith in
commanders, after Michael's departure from the Albuquerque PD, a few years ago.
Knocking quickly and then entering, "Hey, Cap, Benny dropped a dime on
Pierce!"
Valenti looked up from his manpower reports and looked over the scruffy half of
his best detective team. Years ago when his father was Sheriff of Roswell they
didn't need a Major Crimes Unit, Vice or any of the other departments. Instead
they had a large department that did everything. But times changed, and so did
Roswell. The once small town of alien enthusiasts and new age wackos had given
over to families and businesses. Roswell was far enough from the rat race of the
larger towns of Las Cruces, Albuquerque and Santa Fe to give a warm small town
feel, but still was large enough to accommodate crime.
The addition of the University to the city had increased its population a few
years back, but with the increase came crime. They were forced to boost the
staffing of their departments and recruited detectives from the larger cities.
Finding the investigation team of Guerin and Evans was almost a godsend. At
first Guerin was a questionable addition, but he proved to be more than just a
little astute and effective, and he was Jim's best detective with Evans a close
second. The team of Evans and Guerin had the best and cleanest arrest record in
the Department. Literally, Michael Guerin, the man, scared the crap out of most
people. It wasn't his size or even his demeanor, but a darkness that seemed to
live on his face, like a void lacking in emotions that sent criminals and
personages of dubious character begging to confess.
"How much did he give us?" Valenti stood to join Michael looking for
his prettier half, Evans. "Can we take him out?"
"He gave us the current location and the next meeting time. Tomorrow night,
after midnight. Pierce is supposed to be there himself." Michael scratched
his eyebrow. "Max is putting Benny on ice. We don't want him to run at the
mouth until then."
"Okay, but get a team on Benny. That weasel can slip out of a vice grip if
he smells cheese." Michael smiled at that. Benny was nothing if not
slippery.
"Can do, Cap." Michael looked around the squad room, his eyes lighting
on the Captain's son, Kyle. "How about Kyle and Hanson?"
"Done." Valenti went to the door by Michael and screamed. "Kyle!
You and Hanson, NOW!" Michael leaned against the door and smiled to
himself. This should be fun. Max came up to Michael following his glance towards
Kyle. Poor guy. He was shaping up into a good detective, but he was partnerless
so he invariably got stuck with Hanson, who wasn't good in any way shape or
form. It was tough being the Captain's son and having his father trying not to
show favoritism.
"Michael, was that necessary?" Max asked as he watched Kyle walk
towards them with an unhappy scowl on his face.
"Shush! Man, this should be good!"
"You're a cruel bastard." Max smirked and waited for the fun to begin.
"I am." Michael watched Kyle move pass them into Valenti's office.
"Hey, Kyle where's your stinky partner?"
"He's not my partner. Man this sucks big..." Kyle knew that as long as
he didn't have an assigned partner he would be settled with Hanson. His last
partner, Jack Hardy was killed in the line of duty over a year ago, and at first
he didn't want a new partner. Now he would settle for anyone, anything, as long
as it wasn't Hanson. "Why do I get stuck with him? Man he smells like
frozen fish and bacon bits, and the other day he had a overwhelming
fume de' odor
of pork rinds."
Max joined Michael lounging against the wall. "Kyle, for the good of the
department, you're required to get your stinky partner to bathe. We've got a
bust tomorrow and at this rate they'll smell us coming. It's your duty to the
brotherhood. No wonder they call us Pigs when we have "Pigpen" himself
in residence."
"A bust? What's going down?" Kyle quickly looked in at his father
reading another report. "Am I in on it?"
"Nope, you and Hanson get to babysit Benny the Snitch. Have fun." Both
Michael and Max walked away before Kyle could protest. They lied. They would
make sure Kyle was with them for the action, but it was too good watching his
crestfallen look, the stream of cussing under his breath, and the pissed off
look he gave his duffus sort of partner, Hanson. The entire team took Kyle under
their wing when Jack took the fatal bullet. Kyle was lost for almost a year, and
was just finally coming out of it. Jack took the bullet to save Kyle's life,
because what hit Jack mid-heart would have hit Kyle between the eyes. And for
Kyle it was a hard thing to live with.
Max understood more than anyone. When they still lived in Albuquerque and he was
a patrolman in blues, Michael had been in undercover Vice. He saved Max's life.
They had been friends since an incident involving Max's sister over five years
ago, but in truth, from the moment they met, it was like they knew each other.
Just knew. After Michael recovered the near fatal injury at a miraculous rate,
he was back on the streets, living in the sewers like the street people. It took
over three years of friendship and finally getting his golden shield to give Max
the leverage to talk Michael in off the streets. It was three years too late.
What Michael lived through those three years scarred him for life. It made him.
Created him.
"Guerin! Evans!" They both looked back at the Captain's door.
"I've got a new one for you. Patrol is already on the scene, so I need you
there five minutes ago." Max ran over to grab the report from Jim, scanning
it. A murder at the University. Lovely, just lovely. Valenti grabbed Max before
he could take off after Michael already at the elevators, "Keep him from
killing anyone."
Max smiled knowing that might be impossible, "Aye-aye, Cap!"
********************************************************************************
"I don't know why you always get to drive." Michael watched the
scenery pass, at a speed far under what he would've driven. He was exercising
selective memory because he knew exactly why he couldn't drive, but just wanted
to bitch a little. "You drove last week."
"Yeah, and I'm driving next week until you finish those classes," Max
spared Michael a quick glance. "plus, I love arriving in one piece."
Michael snorted at the criticism to his driving. They got there didn't they, and
at a quick pace of time?
"You're just jealous because I hold the fastest time for the obstacle
course." Michael didn't mention that he also had the best shooting scores
too, because somehow being a crack shot and putting holes in dead center didn't
seem like something to brag about.
"Michael, the driving course is supposed to teach you to avoid disaster,
not plow through it." Max knew Michael liked driving, and his driving
irritated him to no end. "Listen, finish the anger management classes and
the PD will okay you to drive again."
"This is bullsh-it, I didn't run the guy over, and I just nudged him."
"Michael!" Max wasn't going to get into the incident again. Michael
was caught in a battle of road rage a few month back and the other driver
threatened a lawsuit, so the PD legal department demanded that Michael take
anger management classes and driving lessons before he could operate a
departmental vehicle or even a personal one during working hours. "You only
have six more hours. Finish it, and we can close the door on this." Max
looked over at the stubborn look on Michael's face, and sighed. The man was an
immovable object. Nothing could push him over the edge-that was until they met
the irresistible force in the form of Maria DeLuca...
********************************************************************************
By the time they hit the scene, patrol cars where already blocking off the front
entrance. Max frowned at a uniform officer talking to Campus security.
"Officer, what's going on here?" Max looked at the gathering crowd,
and campus security walking in and out of the building. "This building
should've been shut down. You and your partner move the crowd back another three
feet, and shoot anyone trying to enter the building without my permission,
unless they've got an official Roswell PD ID. Do I make myself clear?" Max
made his voice loud enough to cause the pushing crowd to automatically move
back.
Michael looked around, and then at the Campus Security. "Who's this?"
His eyes narrowed at the blustering demeanor of the man as he stood in the
patrolman's face.
"I'm Chief of Campus Security, and I demand to see the officer in charge.
I've got people that need in this building, and your officer is keeping everyone
out. I already had five professors complain."
"Only five?" Michael shrugged. That wasn't so bad. Smiling ironically,
he bet he could make it a round and even dozen in the next few hours. "No
one gets into the building until me, or Detective Evans gives the okay. The only
people allowed to pass are support team and the medical examiners office, do I
make myself clear, Mr....um, yeah..." Michael waved off the man's name as
unimportant.
"Peabody, Officer Peabody." The Man tried to hold his ground and
authority. "And you are?"
"Right." Michael moved in closer, getting into the security officer's
face. "Detective Michael Guerin, and I'm in charge here, so don't piss in
my pond." His voice didn't rise once, just became darker and darker, edged
in ice. The patrolman started pulling at his collar and sweating. "If
anyone should get in without my okay, I'll hold you personally responsible for
contaminating a crime scene, and you won't find being booked by me a pleasant
experience. Do I make myself clear?" Michael allowed space for the man to
swallow and back up, nodding his understanding. "Now get behind the yellow
tape. We'll bring you a report, and find you when we need information, otherwise
get off my crime scene." Max followed Michael into the building. As Michael
cornered another officer. "Call the station for a damn liaison officer,
otherwise I'm going to be taking more anger management classes. And who was the
first officer on the scene?" Michael was mentally patting himself on the
back. He hadn't raised his voice once so far.
They followed the officer's pointing finger to a young looking patrolman, hardly
looked old enough to be out of the academy. Max rushed ahead of Michael to talk
to the young man, as Michael started walking the scene, noticing the open
crates, the tossed materials, and finally the dead body of the campus security
guard. He really couldn't blame the Chief of Campus Security's actions. It was
hard to lose one of their own. It became so personal.
After talking to the young man, and then excusing him to go back to headquarters
to file his report, Max went to find Michael. "Michael, the person to find
the body is in the back office waiting to be questioned. She found him early
this morning, about an hour and a half ago. Campus security was the first
called. They sent over a team, and then called the PD."
"Yeah, I got that. There're enough footprints all over the place, and ten
bucks if that body wasn't moved. Dammit, we only got the call twenty minutes
ago, and you don't drive that slow!"
"Campus Rent-a-Cops called the Chancellor and the Deans of the University,
who in turn called the Board of Regents. We didn't figure that high on the list
of people needing to know." Max winced at the stream of obscenities coming
out of Michael's mouth. Damn he could cuss a blue streak! Max held out his hand,
as Michael passed him a few bucks. Michael's campaign to clean up his language
was the final task he needed to complete his anger management training, and so
far he was failing miserably. Thank god it was a self-assigned task and not part
of the course or Michael would never finish the classes.
Finally the lab boys showed up to process the crime scene. Simon, the medical
examiner after a quick look around found the detectives. "This site is a
sorry one, boys. Who moved the body?" Michael and Max shared a look, both
of them had yet to determine that. "Well, we'll do a standard sweep, but
there're so many prints all over the place it's going to be hard to determine
what was here before, and what was added by people trampling over the crime
scene."
"How long Simon?" Michael saw a uniformed officer gesturing for him.
Giving him a quick acknowledgement he looked back at the examiner. "When
can you tell us the cause of death?"
"Oh, I can tell you that right now, unofficially, of course. Trauma by
blunt instrument to the head, and time of death approximately midnight last
night, but I'll see if I can pinpoint a more specific time for ya."
"Thanks, Simon. Hey, how is Tara?" Max asked as Michael nodded and
walked off to talk to the officer.
"She's fine Evans, not that it's any of your business. Stay away from my
sister. You and Guerin are walking nightmares to the female population of
Roswell." Simon picked up his equipment. "Half the population are
trying to get Guerin's attention, and the other half are chasing after you.
Can't figure it out myself, you're both losers."
Max laughed as Simon walked away. Unfortunately it was true. Neither he nor
Michael had much luck in relationships. Michael's last one ended over a year ago
and he hadn't bother to replace her, couldn't remember her name, and it took
over three months before he realized she was gone, along with his entire
apartment. Guess she figured he owed her. And as for Max, he didn't know what
was wrong with him, but every woman he met he found something wrong with her. It
was like he was waiting for someone who never came.
Max looked around for his partner and found him deep in conversation with the
officer. Moving towards them, Max went to do damage control. Michael's body was
tightening up signaling his irritation. "Hey, what's up?" Max looked
at the uncomfortable officer and discretely motioned for him to scram.
"What's going on?"
"Our primary witness, the woman who found the body took a powder. She told
the officer she needed to go, and just like that, he escorted her out of the
building." Michael's jaw clenched. "He walked out my witness before I
released her from questioning."
"Calm down Michael. Did she immediately move to another state or
something?"
"No, but now we'll haf'ta hunt her down," Michael crushed a paper he
held in his hand, "and, it's not like we aren't already busy enough. I've
got the uniforms taking down all the names and arranging fingerprinting for all
the museum staff, and idiots who crushed my scene."
"So, who are we looking for?"
Michael reluctantly opened the paper he just crushed. The officer walked her
out? Walked her out? People were on his crime scene hours before he was called.
What the hell was going on? "A Professor Maria DeLuca, and according to
this she is an assistant professor with the Anthropology Department."
Great. Just great. They'd probably find an old senile woman, half buried under a
layer of dust and grime, whose hearing aid needed new batteries. "They
store her in the basement!"
The voice that told them to enter was muffled, but hardly old sounding. The room
was--well it was hard to call the place a room with every space covered in books
and papers. Some of the stacks reached for the ceiling and looked alarmingly
unstable and easy to topple. The room also had artifacts, pottery, tapestries,
and paintings hanging on the walls or covering even more space. Overall, the
room was impressively cluttered and disorganized.
"Can I help you?" The soft voice came behind a stack to their right as
they entered the room.
"Professor DeLuca?" Max asked moving forward to let Michael into the
room. Michael's large body dominating and looking at the impressive display of
disorder, just sucked up what remaining space there was in the room.
"Yes..." Maria moved from behind the stacks to come in view, "I'm
Professor DeLuca." The small woman holding her arms wrapped around her body
stood behind her desk facing them.
Neither man spoke for a second, letting the shock of seeing her wash over them.
She was tiny, delicate, young, beautiful, and her voice was soft. But the eyes
held them pinned. Her vivid green eyes with golden flakes flashed across the
room, looking more alive and intense than anything Max could remember seeing. In
a room covered in dust from dead ancient societies, this woman breathed life.
Max felt an overwhelming instinct to protect her, to comfort her, and perhaps
maybe help her sit. The soft growl coming from Michael's mouth suggested he was
feeling something too, something that irritated him to no end.
"I'm sorry," Maria moved forward frowning at the two men who seemed to
take up all the remain air in her office, "did you need something?"
Michael casually opened his badge to show her his shield, Max quickly doing the
same. "Oh, yes, the Pigs. I was expecting you." Suddenly Maria hand
came up to cover her mouth, almost in shock, as both Max and Michael stood
straighter at the reference. "Oh god, I said that aloud!" Suddenly the
woman started laughing as if her mirth was uncontainable and falling back in her
chair with her hand covering her face, her body began to shake.
"If you're through?" Michael irritation was evident in his voice as it
raised a level, but it was Max's hand on his arm that made him stop, as he tried
to advance into the room.
"Michael," Max warned him as he nodded his head in the young woman's
direction, "don't. She's not laughing."
Michael looked closer. No she wasn't. She was crying, her body racked with sobs,
and as swiftly as his anger rose, suddenly it changed. Her tearless sobs knocked
the wind out of his sails, and suddenly the room was too small, too cluttered,
and his feet too big, so he moved uneasily back and forth shifting his weight
from one foot to the other.
Max moved towards the woman grabbing a tissue from a box he spied on a shelf.
"Ma'am?" He handed her the tissue unsure. There was something about
this woman, something that made tears from her seem almost an outrage, a
violation.
Maria took the tissue offered and turning her back on them tried to gain some
control. She was mortified. Crying never came easy to her over the years, the
only tears she could remember were ones of anger, so the wave of remorse and
weakness that washed over her body was unwelcome. It was their fault, no doubt
about it. She had stood in her office holding herself together just fine until
they interrupted. But somehow seeing them so big and silent in front of her,
holding their badges up made it all come back. Oh poor Chris, poor gentle Chris!
He deserved so much more than that! Taking a deep breath she turned back to
them.
"I'm sorry, it's just... Chris... he was a nice man, a nice young man with
a wife and small daughter." Maria quickly tossed the tissue and looked at
the two men in anger. "I sat there for hours, as people walked in and out,
sometimes asking me questions, but no one taking care of Chris. He just lay
there like some kind of museum display, to be looked at, poked and prodded, and
it seemed..." Maria paused looking at the wall behinds their heads,
"disrespectful." Maria finally looked at them directly. "I
couldn't stay there any longer. I'm sorry, but the policeman was kind to escort
me out."
Michael's eyes narrowed at that. Oh yeah, he had a few choice words for that
patrolman later. He finally addressed the woman, and his voice was biting,
"don't you mean, Pig?"
Her suddenly laughter and merry mirth actually pissed him off more, not because
she was laughing at the reference to calling a police officer a "Pig",
but because the sound disturbed him, and he didn't like being disturbed. Max
quickly looked at his partner's reaction, confused that he seemed so angry, and
yet this woman hardly said a word to them.
"Sorry," her voice having a singsong quality to it, "I can't
believe I said that, that I let it slip out like that." Maria wiped her
eyes again. "My mother was and is a throwback from the sixties, which is
funny considering she never participated in the countercultures, too young.
Anyway she's spent her life protesting this and that, 'Those Pigs oppress!'
'Pigs this..Pigs that...', so that must have slipped. Sorry." Maria smiled
blaming her mother again. "The strange thing is, and in a fit of supreme
justice, she is dating a cop now, actually engaged."
"Professor, we've got a few questions, and need to take a statement from
you." Max smiled liking this woman. It was Guerin who bothered him. Michael
was shifting on his feet, and Max's partner instincts were cluing him in that
his partner was far from happy.
"Of course, please have a seat."
Michael quickly looked around at the chaos, "Where exactly?"
"Oh," Maria looked at the chairs piled with books and paper,
"right you are."
She rushed around her desk and cleared a chair for Max, smiling at him to sit as
she looked around for a place to put the pile, finally just sitting it on the
floor next to his chair. Then clearing one for Michael, she tried to move to put
the pile down, but he was standing unmoving in the way, putting her shoulder
into him, she tried to shift him back a pace so she could place the pile on the
floor. He wouldn't move. Looking up for the first time their eyes met, and Max
watched them in shock as the room took on an electrical intensity and a look of
stubborn determination moved over the young woman's face, and his partner's face
remained closed and unyielding. They were locked in a silent combat too
instinctive for Max to understand, but before he could warn his partner off,
Maria's face changed as a wicked smile came across her face. She just shrugged
and dropped the books on Michael's feet. Ignoring the yelp, she quickly returned
to her seat behind the desk and inclined her head towards Max to continue his
questioning.
"Detectives?"
"Yes, sorry," Max frowned at his partner and started asking the
questions, taking notes, and worried about Michael's uncharacteristic silence.
Of the two of them, Michael was the senior partner and senior investigator. He
had years of field work beyond Max. But he was--dammit--he was sulking! "If
you could just start with the events of the morning leading up to finding the
body?"
"Chris." Max looked at her politely, but confused. "He's not 'The
Body'--his name was Chris Delaney." Maria shifted in her chair holding onto
her emotions. A name was sacred, sometimes all a person had when there was
nothing left. She refused to cry again, and the larger man's dark demeanor was
helping to not only anger her, but helping her to retain some control.
"I found him this morning around six thirty. Usually I work at the museum
on Tuesdays because I'm not scheduled to teach. Anyway, Chris typically is
waiting for me at the doors, to open them because I'm generally carrying too
much stuff, but this morning he wasn't."
Michael looked at her as she gave her statement. It didn't surprise him, somehow
he had no doubt that she had few problems getting men to fetch and carry for
her, or even walk her out of a crime scene. Looking at his partner who seemed
intent on being gentle and nice to her, Max was falling under the same deadly
charm. They were big men, tall and imposing, but somehow, from the moment she
stepped out from behind the stacks her small body seemed to take up all the
room. She wasn't imposing like them, no she was more deadly than that; she was
charismatic.
"I went to my office, but somehow it seemed different. Wrong. Even the
building when I entered seemed silent. Which is strange in itself, because I'm
usually the first there, so it's often silent. This was different, cold,
unyielding, and it made me pause." Max nodded. He knew what she meant. It
was the silence of death, a feeling like the very warmth of the air had been
sucked from the room, and it was the same silence associated with funerals.
"I noticed that my office was wrong, but I couldn't tell why, just that it
was. I walked out into the cathedral area and entered the Egyptian room first.
Someone had rifled through the crates and boxes, and had tossed priceless
artifacts on the ground like they were nothing more than worthless junk. I then
proceeded to the Peruvian displays, and when I saw the textiles tossed about, I
was angry, but before I could leave the room, I saw Chris's shoe on the floor
hidden behind the crate."
"What then Professor?" Max paused from his notes when she stopped
telling her story.
"Maria, call me Maria." Maria quickly pressed a number on her phone
and talked to a woman's voice. "Cheryl, could you have someone bring three
cups of coffee to my office? Have them bring some packs of sugar and cream as
well." She looked over at the two. "Sorry, I really need something to
fortify me. I saw the shoe and walked around the crate, and there he was, lying
on the floor, face down with blood on the back of his skull." There was a
knock at the door, and a young pretty blond woman stuck her head in carefully
carrying three cups of coffee. Max quickly stood and helped her, by taking two
of the cups, and handing one to Michael. "Thank you, Tess." Maria said
as Tess quickly handed Max stirring rods, and some packets of cream and sugar
shutting the door behind her.
"Did you move or touch the body?" Maria bristled at Michael's
question, abrupt and almost accusatory.
"No, I did not. It hardly seemed necessary. His skull was crushed, and
there was no signs of breathing." Maria took a large drink of her coffee.
"What I did Detective was back out of the room, and went to call Campus
Security."
"Why not 911, and the Police station directly?" Michael was still
pissed at how long it took for them to finally be called in.
"Truthfully? I was afraid. The place was too cold, too quiet, and it felt
wrong." Maria took another sip of her coffee watching both the detective
finally drink some of theirs after doctoring it with cream and sugar.
"Campus Security seemed like my best bet to getting someone there
immediately. I didn't know if the person who did this was still in the building,
but at six thirty in the morning, it's not like the entire campus is bustling
with activity, so I went to my office, locked the door, and made the call, and
then waited."
Michael nodded, seeing her point, as he took a drink of the hot liquid. Damn, he
almost spit the stuff out. Looking at the woman, he could see a gleam of
amusement in her eyes. The coffee was awful. Actually awful didn't even come
near to what this black sludge was, and since PD coffee was reputed to being the
worst ever concocted, this stuff was impressive. And then she took another
drink, almost daring him to finish his cup. Max, not involved in the silent
pissing match, discreetly looked for a place to put his cup. This crap could
burn a hole into a gut.
"Chicory." Both men looked at her in confusion. "The coffee has
fresh chicory added, and it's made by one of our Peruvian archaeologists. No one
can figure out why he does this to lifesaving coffee beans, but one thing is
consistent-- this coffee kills."
"Why drink it then?" Max asked curious why an entire department would
continue to drink something so vile.
"Are you kidding?" Maria smiled at him. "One cup of this would
fuel the lights of a city for a day. It's a pickmeup better than pure caffeine
directly on the tongue. When we want real coffee, the English department is next
door, and there they make those gourmet flavored coffees like Crème de Mint or
French Vanilla. But this stuff, it's like liquid life." Max had to agree.
He only stomached one sip and his head was buzzing, but looking at his partner,
he was worried because Michael seemed determined to finish the cup. Great. He
was going to have a wired partner for the rest of the day. Maybe they could get
a thermos of the stuff for their stakeout tomorrow night.
They continued to question her, until finally there seemed little else to know.
Max's beeper went off, looking at the number, he quickly dialed the number on
his cell. Michael watched the professor watching him. She wasn't arrogant, rude,
or in anyway offensive, but for some reason she put his back up. Her very
presence seemed like a challenge, a large one. He watched her hands wrap around
the coffee cup, as her eyes stared him down. Those hands, they were long and
delicate, yet firm and strong. Shaking himself from groaning, he quickly broke
eye contact with her, which pissed him off even more, and looked at Max.
"What's up?"
"Simon is done with the scene, and they're transporting the body. Also our
liaison officer is on scene," Max couldn't help but smile, "and
Michael, it's Cassie." Max looked down to hide a smile as Michael swore
under his breath. Michael calmly reached into his pocket and peeled off a twenty
from a small wad of bills and pushed it into Max's pocket. Cassie made him cuss
a blue streak so he would be owing this sooner or later.
"Professor, would you accompany us to the crime scene? We had questions
about the crates and packaging." Maria nodded and stood to follow the
detectives out of her office, to walk across the way to museum. She noticed a
small red-headed woman wandering around the scene talking loud and a mile a
minute. Next to her, the larger detective, Guerin seemed to bristle. Looking at
Max, he just shrugged.
Michael seemed to speed up and confront the woman, as Maria and Max hung back,
watching. Finally, curiosity was too great to ignore. "What's the
story?" Nodding her head at the two figures exchanging heated words.
"A long sad one. Cassie is a forensic officer with specialties in
communication, so she does liaison work, to smooth things over when we've got
conflicting departments, or in this case the Campus cops versus City. Basically,
her job is to keep the rental cops out of our hair, but Cassie usually takes it
a step further. She wanted to be a detective, and she's smart. But she was
unable to pass the physical exam, so she was never given the opportunity to
become a detective, and had to choose another field."
"I still don't get it. So why are they fighting?" Maria asked watching
Guerin clench his fist and leaned down and talked directly into the small
woman's face, cold and menacing.
"Well, Cassie has a habit of butting into our investigations, withholding
valuable evidence, pursuing the information herself. In the last year we had to
save her about eight times," Max winced as the discussion heated enough to
reach their ears. "Michael doesn't tolerate interference. Anything that
disturbs the investigation bothers him. He is very determined to protect and
serve the victim, and sometimes people like Cassie, or Campus Police who trample
the scene and destroy the evidence make it harder for him to do his job. To
serve those who can no longer take care of themselves."
"I see," Maria frowned, "but their argument seems more
personal."
"Oh, it's that all right. When Michael first met Cassie he was sort of
attracted to her," Max tried not to notice that Maria's back stiffened at
that news. "But it took maybe five minutes for his attraction to change to
full scale dislike. Cassie, being a woman, and not too hard on the eyes,
recognized the attraction, and basically has been trying to capitalize on it
ever since. But she doesn't realize that her hold is gone. She has trapped
Michael in elevators, the parking garage, even invaded his home a few times.
It's been interesting."
"I can imagine." They watched as the woman stalked away to go talk to
the Chief of Campus Security, Peabody. They slowly joined Michael.
"Told her to do her job, huh?" Max asked as Michael nodded, his eyes
still slanted and deadly.
"Like it will matter. She'll still be in the thick of it, mucking it up in
about two seconds." Michael without thinking reached down and took Maria's
arm and to lead her into the museum. He felt her, the feel of her arm, the heat
of her body, and his hand tingled almost like an electrical impulse ran from one
body to the other. He wanted to move the cloth covering her arm and touch her
skin, but before he could, she shook off his hand and preceded in front of them
into the museum.
Maria rushed ahead of them, her heart beating hard in her chest, her arm still
feeling his touch. Great! Just Great! Sexual awareness of the big mean
detective. See? This is what happens when life gets too hectic and sex becomes
only a distance memory. Big violent men with pissy attitudes, sexy golden brown
eyes, totally kissable lips, and hands that could cause orgasms just by looking
at them, actually start to look edible. Outrageous! Totally, unacceptably
outrageous!
Maria entered the museum, and then stopped violently, a gasp of anger and dismay
escaped her. Dogs and men were all over the place, shifting through the crates,
the artifacts. "What the hell is going on?!" Maria advanced on a group
of men, her hands clenched. "Stop that, put that down, you idiots!"
She grabbed a funeral urn from one man's hand and shoved another officer away
from a bundle burial.
"Professor..." Max actually backed up when she turned to face him. The
lines of anger on her face, the flashing of her eyes, the coiled tightness of
her body made it apparent that confronting her, getting in her way wouldn't be a
healthy thing.
"Didn't the murderer do enough damage? Do you feel the need to finish the
job?" Maria placed the funeral urn down with extreme care. "Some of
these artifacts are over five thousand years old. They can't just be touched,
searched and tossed without heed. The collections are in my care. My
responsibility!"
"Maria, we've got to search the area. The man who did this was looking for
something, and obviously the security guard interrupted him. Now a lot of these
crates come from Central and South American countries. The narcotics dogs are
merely smelling for hidden stashes."
"Drugs? You think this is about drugs?" Maria looked at the chaos, all
the work she and her staff had worked so hard on for months, destroyed. "I
understand what you're saying, but it doesn't have to be drugs. Some of these
pieces are priceless, or they were until you and your hamhanded thugs tore
through them. We've worked hard here, cataloguing all the artifacts, and look at
this mess! This museum is scheduled to open in six months," Maria voiced
became louder to emphasize the gravity of the situation, "six months, and
this puts us behind."
"A man was murdered." Michael said equally loud.
Maria turned on him like a bull terrier, "I know that! I found him! But how
do you expect to find drugs in a room full of artifacts from places that used
cocoa leaves, opiates, and other natural fibers and plants in their textiles, or
residuals in cooking ware? Your dogs are going to sniff out the hemp fibers
woven into that blanket, or the opiate paste used to coat the inside of that
bag." Maria put her hands on her hips. "Do you understand what I'm
saying?"
"You could chew on some of this crap and get high?" Michael put up his
hands defensively at her scream of exasperation. "I know, I know. The stuff
will have to be gone over individually, piece by piece, and the dogs are just
going to rip apart your artifacts for no reason."
"Yeah." Max cringed at the dripping sarcasm in her tone. "I
suggest that you clear my staff to return, to pick up the pieces, and sort
through what's here, and what's missing. This might be something more than
drugs, and until I can check the invoices against the inventory, I can't tell
you if something has been taken."
Max and Michael looked at each other recognizing the reasoning behind her
statement. This was going to take time. Max sighed and pulled his phone to walk
off a few paces to call the Captain. "Okay, we'll have some officers and
forensic lab boys assigned to you, to help your people clear this mess and
quickly catalogue the artifacts. That way if there's anything, such as drugs or
contraband, they'll be here to take control of it immediately." Maria
opened her mouth to comment, but he rudely put up his hand to stop her.
"And that's the only way I'll open up this crime scene to let your people
back in."
"I was going to say, thank you." Maria said irritably, even more than
a little ticked off that his rude, nasty self was even more attractive than his
moody, quiet one. God, therapy! Surely her damn insurance plan provided mental
care?
"I can help." They both turned to look at the small curly red headed
woman that Michael had words with earlier. Michael frowned, but had to admit
that Cassie was a perfect choice given that she was already assigned to the
case, and her job was to liaison between the PD staff and the University.
"I've got to be here anyway, so I might as well lend a hand."
"Okay, Welsh, you stay, but if I suspect you're hindering or in anyway
suppressing evidence so you can hot dog it, I'll bury you." Michael could
feel Maria's eyes watching him closely, and then moving to Cassie. "Do you
understand?"
"Yeah, whatever. I got it." The woman turned and smiled at Maria,
shaking her hand. "Cassie Welsh, it's a pleasure to work with you. I love
ancient history, it's sort of a hobby of mine."
"Welsh, you'll not be in charge down here," Michael felt it necessary
to clarify that since Cassie tended to overstep her authority. "You'll
report to the senior forensic staff on site, and otherwise to me or Evans
directly." He muffled a nasty remark when she just nodded and rolled her
eyes.
Maria quickly stepped in between them and gently tried to remove her hand from
the woman's grasp. When Cassie and Detective Guerin started their latest
altercation, the young woman's grasp tightened and almost crushed Maria's hand.
"Um, could I have my hand back? I sort of need it to do some work."
The woman started and quickly released Maria. Michael noticing Maria's grimace
straight away snatched her hand to ascertain the damage if any, cussing under
his breath.
Maria snatched her hand from his and hid it behind her back giving it a shake to
relieve the pain. "It's fine." So turning to Cassie, Maria smiled.
"Detective, if you.."
"Officer." Said Michael, and Maria noticed the young woman's face
turning red, as anger flushed her cheeks.
"Right, Officer, Cassie? If you would follow me, we'll set up. I'll see if
I can locate my staff and get us some food and coffee."
Michael called after them as they walked away, "I would give the coffee a
miss." Both women ignored him as Max came up next to him.
"Cap is assigning some team members. He wants us downtown
immediately." The two headed out. "Hey, I saw this great film once
called 'Curse from the Mummy's Tomb."
"That's a classic."
"I know. And this is kind of like that. Artifacts everywhere, burial urns,
dead bodies, and a rampaging Mummy." It had to be one of the best B-rated
black and white horror flicks made.
"I'm not putting out an APB on a Mummy." Michael said as he and Max
both laughed. "But a rogue Mummy could be cool if it took out Cassie."
They both continued to laugh on their way to the car.
It wasn't until they almost back to the precinct that Max felt compelled to ask.
"So Michael, what's with all the wood?" He felt his partner going
stiff next to him, not that it was a new condition. He had been walking around
hard since meeting the lovely Professor.
"No clue." Michael looked out the window hoping Max would drop it, but
since part of being a detective was getting to the crux of things, he doubted
it.
"Looks like the lady has an effect on you." Max almost bit his lip to
keep from laughing at Michael's expression. What the hell was that? Dismay?
Denial? Anger? Or just raging lust?
"Yeah, she affects me, or at least part of me." Michael ran his hands
over his face in a moment of shocking honesty. "I can't even say why, but
there's something about her, something attractive, and something damn annoying
too."
Max laughed at the confusion in Michael's voice. This was going to be
interesting. Literally in the last two years absolutely nothing or no one had
been able to rock Michael's world, that silent dark place he seemed to live in.
Vice and living on the street did so much damage, that Michael didn't let people
in. Not really. And most of the time, he just ignored them or wrote them off as
unimportant. It explained his failed relationships, and the fact that he
couldn't even remember his last girlfriend's name. Nothing touched him, nothing
but the injustice of the dead and the pain of the victims, otherwise he remained
an untouchable.
"Well, hope we don't run into Hanson. I'm sure the man is gay and has a
crush on you. He might take what you're sporting as an invitation or a
come-on." Max laughed even harder at the nasty look Michael sent his way.
"Chuckles, Maxwell. You're a riot. A real laugh a minute." Michael
decided it was time to get some of his own back. "I think we should stop at
forensics and see if there's any news from the crime scene materials. Hey, maybe
the Mouse is working."
Max squirmed in his seat and shot Michael an equally nasty look. It was hard to
defend yourself against men who could read emotions and expressions so easily.
"Don't call her that. Liz is a perfectly wonderful woman, and there's
hardly anything mouselike about her." Max was irritated that Michael was
able to make him defend himself all the time, and defend the Chief Manager of
the Forensic Science Labs.
"You mean other than her incredibly brown looks, brown hair, brown eyes,
brown, brown, and more brown? Or that she scurries around the precinct like a
puff of wind would blow her over, or a harsh word would crush her, hiding in
shadows like a timid brown nondescriptive mouse?" Michael asked knowing his
description would piss Max off and set him on a tirade effectively making him
forget to torment Michael over the pain in the ass professor.
"She is not nondescript. Her hair is lovely, shiny and well--lovely."
Max turned in his seat eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring. "So she's a
little quiet, and likes to work in the lab, doesn't wear loud and outrageous
clothing, what's it to you? What did she ever do to you?" Michael just
smirked and tuned Max's rant out as they pulled into the parking garage. The
rant continued through the garage, in the elevator, down the hall, and up until
the moment they opened the door to the lab. Suddenly Max lost his tongue, his
ability to complete a sentence, and barely the ability to say hello.
"Parker, got anything on the morning stiff, Delaney?" Michael put his
hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his shoes, as the small young
woman looked at him, then looked at his partner, turned red, and then quickly
ducked her head to hide her face.
"Not much. The evidence was flimsy, too many feet and hands mucking up the
physical. I have over thirty different hair samples and Cap will eat me for
breakfast if I run them all. The DNA analysis alone would wipe out my monthly
budget." Liz looked up through her lashes, and said in a quiet voice.
"Hi, Max."
Max stammered on his feet, shuffled a little and quickly said a hello before
looking around the room. Michael just rolled his eyes and prepared his teeth to
be set on edge as he asked Parker more questions. It wasn't what she said that
irritated him at times, but rather her voice. It was soft and babyish, almost
like she tried to keep it monotone modulation as not to disturb the air
molecules. Robotic in tone, and lacking in inflections, he wanted to grab her
sometimes and shake her demanding she spit it out. The tone wasn't just
monotonous, but she used long pauses that left you just hanging. Michael might
have shaken her, to wake her up out of what wacko world she lived in if he could
find a reason to even care, and since he couldn't, he didn't bother.
"Parker, I think it's time for you to leave the nest. I'm going to request
that you be assigned to my team." Michael ignored both Max and Liz's
reactions. "I need someone who is fast and efficient, not afraid of working
hard to run the crime scene with Professor DeLuca, someone who'll record and
document everything. I'm sure you'll find Professor DeLuca interesting, if not
colorful. She has a huge deadline, and lost months worth of work today, so I
think your cold efficient ways would be a benefit to her." Liz felt anger
at his words, but carefully schooled her expression to remain unchanged
practically looking right through him. Michael just shrugged and headed for the
door with Max following. He could feel the anger coming off his partner in
waves, but chose to ignore it. "By the way, one member of your team will be
Cassie Welsh, and she's already on site." Michael didn't even bother to
wait for Liz's reaction.
"Dammit!" Liz looked at the instrument in her hand and contemplated
shoving it up Guerin's ass, but in truth it wouldn't have room with that stick
that was permanently lodged there. Cassie? What was worse? Being stuck working
shoulder to shoulder with Guerin and Evans, or having to deal with Cassie Welsh?
Dammit, could her life get any worse?
"You're a real jerk, Michael! You didn't have to be so mean to her. What
did Liz ever do to you except exist?" Michael just shrugged. In his book
existing to piss him off was a good enough reason for most things. As they
headed up the stairs Michael finally got tired of listening to Max.
"You could try thanking me." Michael didn't bother to look over at the
surprised look on Max's face, the look of astonishment. "Yes, I said
thanking me. For almost a year, hell more like over a year, you've been mooning
over Liz Parker, shuffling your feet like a schoolboy caught in his first crush.
Then you pursue and nail every other female in sight, trying to convince
yourself that you're not interested, but then what happens, Max? Then you dump
them. You dump them because they don't fit or they're not right. So maybe Liz is
right? Maybe you'll spend the rest of your life wondering, as you f-uck every
table leg that walks by, while she hides in a lab gathering dust with all those
little mouselike eggs going to waste. Or maybe this investigation will get her
out of the mothballs, give her a taste of real air, and you and she can finally
over come the painful shyness, and f-uck like real adults." With that
Michael went through the stairwell door into the squad room leaving a quiet, and
shocked Max standing in thoughtful silence. Boy, when Guerin wanted to rant, he
did a fine job!
*****************************************************************************
"Hey, Guerin, I ran the people from the University for ya. A few had
records, but nothing interesting, just the usual speeding tickets and moving
violations, except one." Hanson was flipping through the file looking for
the unusual one. "Yeah, Maria DeLuca-she has an impressive sheet."
Both Michael and Max paused in their tracks. They were so used to ignoring
Hanson that it was shocking when he actually had something to contribute to the
case. Michael quickly snatched the file from his hand and both he and Max
scanned it.
"Hanson, call an officer on the scene at the University and have them
transport the Professor here. Put her in interrogation room one when she
arrives." Michael looked at Max and grimaced. He missed it. Nothing in her
manner, or about her tripped off his usual alert senses that she could be a
deviant. Michael cussed under his breath and tossed a dollar at Max. He let his
attraction to her blind him. Thinking with his little head obvious left him
unaware of her possible personality faults, but he couldn't imagine what Max's
excuse was.
She had been in the station for over ten minutes before Michael and Max even
bothered to go talk to her. They went into the backroom and observed her from
the behind the two way glass. Strange, but the woman actually appeared to be
napping. Michael pushed Max aside and left to enter the room slapping the file
against his leg.
"Professor?"
Maria looked up at the large irritable one. Lord he looked good enough to lick--
all over. The other was chocolate box pretty, but this one was exotic chocolate,
totally f-uckable. Maria shook herself out of her thoughts and reminded herself
that she was pissed at them picking her off the street without a word.
"Maria. I told you to call me Maria."
"Okay, Maria," Dammit, her eyes darkened when she was tired and angry!
Michael cleared his throat. "Perhaps you could talk to us about your
record."
"Which record would that be?" Maria sat up straighter in her seat, her
eyes becoming weary. "My dental record, academic record, or perhaps my
driving record? Could you be more specific, Detective? I'm a busy woman. I've
got little to no time to deal with slapstick, paltry Pig tactics, so if you need
to pull out the nightstick I suggest you do it now." Maria cocked her head
to one side but refused to let her vision waver or back down.
"How about your arrest record?" Michael clenched his hands and cursed
his body as it responded to her attitude with a thickening and arousal. Her deep
angry voice was making his toes curl.
"Oh, that..." Maria rubbed her forehead. Dammit she was getting a
migraine, and this rate she'd have little to no option but to go home and sleep
it off. "Who's your commanding officer?" Maria looked at both Max and
Michael's frowns as they tried to understand what relevance that had to their
questions. "Is it Captain Jim Valenti?" They both reluctantly nodded.
"Good, I refuse to answer any questions without your Captain being present,
so scurry off and find him." Maria watched as an angry hue moved over
Michael's face. "And I take my coffee black!"
Michael leaned up against the wall and watched her. He could see the headache
move into her eye, how her forehead wrinkled as she tried to adjust to the
light, and part of him felt bad that he was adding to the stress of it, but
another part was intrigued to see how far and how much he could affect her. So
they remained patient and quiet, staring each other down, until her eyes finally
broke. But instead of relief, he felt uncomfortable. He watched her eyes slowly
course down his body, occasionally pausing to really take account, and then
continue. When she was eye-leveled to his groin, she stopped and just stared. It
was like her stare was touching him, stroking his body, slowly and with delicate
care. And when he thought he couldn't get more aroused, her tongue came out and
licked her lips.
It was Kyle walking down the hall, and looking into the open door of the
interrogation room that stopped Michael from losing control, moving across the
room, and picking up Maria to push her hard against the wall and crush her under
his body. Kyle found a way to throw cold water on the entire situation.
"Maria!" Kyle came into the room and tossed his file on the table,
sitting his ass down on the edge next to her, he reached down and kissed her on
the lips. "What the hell are you doing hanging out at the PD? Not that
Major Crimes couldn't use the decoration." Kyle heard a noise behind him
and looked over at Michael. "Hey, Guerin, don't tell me you were keeping
this lovely lady to yourself." Kyle ignored the angry explanation from
Michael and turned back to Maria. "So Dollface, you coming to Sunday
dinner, or do I've got to babysit the old ones alone?"
"Sorry, Kyle, but I think the Detective has plans to tie me up on
Sunday." Maria looked pointedly at Michael when she said that. Kyle looked
between the two of them, seeing sparks, major sparks, and something else. Before
he could comment, Valenti and Max came back into the room, with Max a few steps
behind carrying a cup of coffee, black.
"Maria!" Valenti went to the woman, pass his son and picked her up out
the chair in a large bear hug. "Hey honey, it's about time you came to see
me! You've missed every Sunday dinner for the last two months, and you know
that's not allowed."
"Actually Jim, I'm afraid this isn't a social call." Maria motioned
towards both Max and Michael. Valenti looked at his two detectives, and then
back at Maria. "Oh lord, what now? Where is she? Do they still have her in
holding or are they processing her?"
Michael and Max were clueless. Who the hell was 'she" and why did their
witness have more friends and acquaintances in the department then they did.
"Captain, we brought Professor DeLuca for some standard questioning about
her record, and in conjunction with the murder case at the University."
Michael handed Valenti Maria's sheet.
"Damn, I forgot I was going to take care of some of this stuff."
Valenti looked up at Maria. "Sorry, I meant to have it removed, but somehow
I got busy." Jim went down the long list of previous arrest, with no
convictions. "Strange, I think you've got a longer sheet than your old man,
and almost all of it's because of your mom. So this has nothing to do with her,
right?"
"Well, technically, no. Unless you count that the murder of the guard,
Chris Delaney, happened in a newly renovated building saved by Amy DeLuca. If I
had my new building like I wanted, then my security system would have already
been installed and there wouldn't have been any reason to have a night guard
patrolling the halls." Maria saw Max slowly put the coffee on the table and
smiled her thanks as she picked it up and took a sip. Okay, not as vile as the
Anthropology Department's coffee, but coming a close second.
Valenti looked at his men knowing how this looked, how the long report looked,
and how it discredited Maria. "I think I can explain most of theses
charges." Valenti looked down at the first one listed. "Chicago? Was
that during the protest against coloring the water green for St. Patrick's Day
or the Haymarket Reunion?"
"I think the first one is probably the Haymarket Massacre Anniversary, and
technically all I did was make an overweight Irish Cop run down a street. But of
course, mom did more. She locked hands with other protesters and sat down in a
wonderful display of civil disobedience, resulting in the lot of us taking a
ride in the paddywagons." Maria took another drink. "I think the
federal charges for trespassing and destruction of military property, with an
intent of treason is the best.” Maria took a sip of coffee and then pointed a
finger at Jim in thought. “Though technically they said we had to cross the
river before they arrested us, and mom only got to the middle of the river
before I caught up with her. I always thought it was the wet t-shirts and the
lack of a bras that made them decide to add us the rest. Mom was thrilled."
Both Michael and Max listened to her explain away every charge one by one, with
"Mom" being the cause of most the trouble. Both Valenti men just
nodded their heads in total understanding. Finally Jim looked over to his two
detectives. "You gentlemen probably remember Maria's mother? Amy DeLuca?"
Both of them shook their heads no, until Jim decided to remind them. "She's
the woman who chained herself to the Sergeant's front desk two months ago to
protest prisoner conditions in our hold cells." Both men suddenly
remembered the woman, but she hardly looked old enough to have a twenty-six year
old University Professor for a daughter.
"Yeah, I remember that head case." Michael barely paused when he saw
Kyle giving him a high sign to cut it off, shaking his head violently.
"That would be the one." Valenti helped Maria to stand, putting his
arm around her shoulder to lead her out of the interrogation room. "My
fiancée." Maria just smirked at Michael and when Valenti wasn't looking,
she crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Wait," Michael grabbed the folder back and scanned the sheet again,
"what about this one. Arrested in a raid of a 'house of ill repute' in New
Orleans?"
Maria casually looked over his hand to read the sheet too. "Oh, that one is
mine." And with a smile she left the room with Jim. They looked at each
other as they heard her ask what was on the menu for Sunday dinner. Valenti
ordered Max and Michael to give Maria a lift home since she was picked up in a
squad car. None of them really talked along the way, but occasionally a moan and
groan would come from the back seat.
"Cut it out." Michael said refusing to look back at her. "We're
not letting you cop a plea of police brutality."
"Oh bite me, flatfoot. I've got a humdinger of a migraine coming on, my
life is too damn stressful, and today I found a dead body, so flip off!"
Maria spotted the turn off for her loft apartment. Oh thank god, it had been
weeks since she was home, really home. Over the last two weeks the best she did
was open the door, walk straight into her bedroom, fall fast asleep, wake up to
shower, feed the cat, and rush out the door.
Maria was surprised when the two detectives followed her to her door. Opening it
and walking in she started to turn around and thank them for the ride before
slamming the door in their faces, but the state of her loft stopped her. There
were dishes piled up in the sink, clothes everywhere, empty beer cans, and
stacks of empty pizza boxes. She never noticed it last night. It was so late
when she came home, and still dark when she left that morning, that she never
noticed the state of her home. Picking up a pair of kitchen tongs she walked
around the place expressing her displeasure and disbelief.
Michael just assumed that the place was a wreck normally. After seeing her
office, both of them, the disaster in the museum, it wasn't hard to imagine that
this was her normal mode of housekeeping. It was her cussing that began when she
slowly stood up from a crouched position holding a pair of men's underwear in
her tongs that clenched it. This wasn't how she left her place. Maria looked
over and saw a man's leather jacket draped across the back of the sofa, and a
look of horror crossed her face.
Rushing to the phone, she dialed a number and waited. When the person on the
other line picked up, Maria began to whine. "No, absolutely not. I won't
have it! I won't have him in my house. You've got to take him back."
Both Michael and Max could hear a woman's voice on the other end screeching,
"Maria, honey is that you? I can't hear you! It must be the line..."
and then the sounds of the other phone being banged hard against something.
"You can't do this to me. I won't allow it." Maria winced at the
banging and continued to scream into the phone. "You're not fooling anyone.
Now come get him or I'm moving back home!" The phone on the other end went
dead, and all they could hear was a dial tone.
All the screaming must have wakened the dead, because the door under the stairs
leading up to the loft suddenly opened and out walked a man, a little over six
feet tall, medium build with curly golden blond hair. The man was dressed in
only a pair of skimpy tiger print briefs scratching his stomach below his belly
button, and in his other hand was a gun. It was the gun that alerted Michael and
Max. Both of them almost in tandem drew their weapons as the man became aware of
them and lifted his to cover them. Maria screamed and stepped back from the
three men all facing each other with weapons drawn.
"Wait! Wait, okay? Calm down! Calm down!" Maria slowly insinuated
herself between them backing herself up against the naked man, and pushing his
gun arm down, while keeping her other hand up looking at both Max and Michael.
Michael growled under his breath as the man's other hand, the one that had been
scratching his stomach came out to circle around Maria's waist. Michael's eyes
narrowed as he targeted a place between the man's beady eyes. "Let's just
take a calming breath and release some of the testosterone. It's not going to
look good if you shoot my cousin in my apartment just for being a Pig, breaking
and entering, and committing an act of fashion death by wearing those
briefs."
Both Michael and Max began to relax as the word "cousin" registered.
Slowly they lowered their guns, as Maria spun around on her heel, and reached up
to slap the man upside his head. "Do you have to act like the pig you are?
Look at this place? What were you thinking? How did you get in?" Maria
looked at her cousin her hands coming to rest on her hips. "You picked the
lock, didn't you? Didn't you?" Sean finally nodded his head in agreement.
Yeah, so he picked the lock. "I should have these detectives arrest you for
breaking and entering." Maria rushed off up the stairs pointing her finger
menacing. "But lucky for you, I'm sick of police and police stations, I've
got the monster of all headaches, and I'm going to take a bath. So..."
pausing on the steps leading upward to her loft bedroom, "if you know
what's good for you, you'll restore some order to my home, take out the garbage,
pick up your dirty clothes, and do the damn dishes before I get back." With
that Maria went up the stairs and they could hear drawers slamming.
Suddenly she was back by the upper railing, looking down at them wearing nothing
but an open robe with only a bra and panties under it. Michael couldn't stop
staring at her body as she suddenly pointed a finger at her cousin. "Where
the hell is my cat?" And against his will Michael groaned aloud when she
gathered her robe and tied the sash. "You better find Mr. Booboo, or
there'll be hell to pay!" And she was gone again, with just the sounds of a
shower starting.
Max gave a low long whistle under his breath, and Michael could only agree. What
a hell of a woman! Pushing his hands through his hair and taking a look at the
room around him, Sean had to admit, Maria was right. He had totally trashed her
place. Giving the other two men a sheepish grin, he held out his hand.
"Sean DeLuca. Vice." Michael knew the name as did Max. They quickly
introduced themselves. Neither had ever met the man, but his reputation was well
known. They watched him go to the living room and pick up a shirt, smell it and
put it on, and then a pair of jeans leaving them unbuttoned and unzipped. Going
back into the kitchen Sean looked at the mess and shook his head. Suddenly there
was a soft meow, as a skinny calico stripped cat emerged from under the leather
sofa.
"Oh, thank god, there you are! One problem solved." Sean took out a
can of cat food and looked for a dish to put it in, but everything was dirty and
piled up in the sink. Shrugging he opened the can and before Max could stop him,
poured the contents out on the countertop as the cat jumped up and began to eat.
"So why were you escorting my cousin home?" Sean turned dark serious
eyes on them, and just as fast his face shuddered and became even more
dangerous, "Did something happen? Did someone hurt my cousin?"
Max quickly intervened. "No, no she's fine."
Sean nodded his head as he grabbed two garbage bags. "So why are you
escorting her home?" When suddenly a thought occurred to him. "Oh god,
not Aunt Amy again? What did she do this time?"
Max actually laughed at the expression on Sean's face. God, he had to meet this
Amy person. "No, the Captain had us bring Maria home. Actually she
discovered a dead body in her museum this morning, the security guard, Chris
Delaney."
Sean stopped what he was doing. "You're sh-itting me?" Both men
remained stony faced, "okay, you talk while I clean."
When Maria finally emerged from the netheregions of the upstairs she was
surprised to still see the team of Guerin and Evans in her loft. The place was
surprisingly cleaner than before, and Max was finishing the dishes as Michael
vacuumed and Sean picked up dirty laundry and trash. Michael plain out and out
refused to pick up another man's dirty underwear. Stopping at the foot of the
stairs her eyes lit on the cat eating off the countertop, but just sighed. At
least he was picking up some of the damage.
"Why are they still here?" The men turned to look at Maria, and Sean's
eyes narrowed as he noticed Michael checking out his cousin, and even Max was
pretty attentive. His sense of outrage continued when he took in what Maria was
wearing. The t-shirt was okay except it was about six years old and about two
sizes too small, and she wasn't wearing a bra. The shorts were an old pair of
jean cut-offs totally scandalous in that there were more holes than jeans, and
the combination left a good portion of her midriff bare.
"We just ordered lunch. Pizza." Michael couldn't take his eyes off
her. He frowned when he noticed the pain in her eyes. "You still have the
headache? Maybe you should lie down or something. We can call you when the pizza
gets here." Max looked at Michael sharply. It wasn't that Michael was hard
and uncaring, but he rarely took time to notice anyone except the really young
or the very old, and everyone else was pushed into victims or the ignored
category.
"I'm fine. A nap can wait until you leave." Maria looked at her
cousin. "So how long have I been your hostess?" Sean had the nerve to
actually smile at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Sean?"
"About two weeks." Sean laughed at her astonished look as her mouth
dropped open. "No, you aren't that unobservant. It's just you've been busy,
sleeping in your office most nights, and with me working nights and you at
school during the days, we didn't overlap much."
"I should have you arrested, or something." Maria sighed knowing her
mom wasn't going to take Sean into her house. "You need to go home to your
place. I thought they would fix it."
"Well that's the problem. The owner decided that he would rather tear the
place down than put up more slum units. Nowadays you can't even find a good slum
landlord." Sean stacked up the last of the garbage bags to be taken out by
the door.
Michael heard the doorbell, and passed Max some cash as he went to answer it and
get the pizza. "So why did you haf'ta leave, was the place not regulation
or something?" Michael looked at Maria as she snorted and went to find
paper plates and napkins.
"No, it was blown up." Sean took the pizza box from an astounded Max's
hand and opened it to grab a slice. Maria looked over his shoulder and noticed
that the pizza was the hearty man's meaty feast. Dammit, what was wrong with a
few veggies, or maybe just an olive or two? Taking a slice and pulling the meat
off and leaving it in the corner of her plate, she ate the crust and sauce.
"My next door neighbor, stupid f*ck, was running a meth lab. Imagine the
balls or stupidity a person has to have to run a drug shake and bake factory
next door to a cop. A vice cop. The crazy bastard blew himself up and a good
portion of the building."
Michael's eyebrow went up at the story. These DeLucas were damn public
nuisances. He was busy eating another piece of pizza when Maria got up and went
into the kitchen. Retrieving two glasses, a carton of milk, and two beers she
came back to sit down. Michael watched her, he couldn't stop. She filled and
spilled out of those shorts nicely. Real nicely. The surprise came when she put
a glass in front of him and Max and poured them each a glass of milk, and then
passed Sean a beer, and opened a beer for herself.
"I wouldn't have minded a beer." Michael said looking down at the
glass of milk.
She finally looked at him and smiled. "You're on duty, Detective. Sean has
a few hours before he's on the clock." And she picked up her beer and
continued to drink it with a small smile around her mouth well aware he was
watching her every move. He watched the movement of the golden liquid down the
glass as she tipped the bottle, the flexing of her throat as she swallowed, and
the moisture left on her upper lip. Studying him closely, she licked her lips
and smiled to herself when she could hear him gulp. Looking over, she noticed
the amusement in Max's eyes and he actually winked at her.
"Sean, I didn't notice that thing you drive parked outside. What you been
doing? Parking around the block?" Maria asked as she finished her meal,
ignoring Michael as he reached over and ate the pile of meat off her plate. It
was the redness of his face that made Maria nervous. "Sean, where's the
beastmobile
?" Sean said something hardly audible, avoiding her eyes. "Sean?"
"It broke down. I took it to Walter's garage to see if he could salvage
it." Maria just nodded. Good choice. Walter was an artist. He could make an
engine purr no matter how crappy the car, and if he couldn't fix it, then it
wasn't worth saving. Walter taught her endless hours of auto mechanics. He was
her personal guru.
"So what you've been driving?" Maria stopped and glanced at her
cousin, suspicion narrowing the eyes, and anger flaring the nostrils.
"Sean?"
"Jesus, M, it was only for the last two days!" Michael was shocked
when Maria gave a scream of rage and disbelief and rushed to a door beside the
kitchen. It led to what appeared to be a large garage. Following her, Max and
Michael were curious as Sean took off after her assuring her it was unharmed,
refueled, and it was none worse for the wear. The two detectives stopped in the
door way and gawked at the face of god, a black mint condition GTO with full
trim. Maria was checking the outside for scratches, opening the doors to check
for spilled food, beer cans, or any other intrusive material. Literally she was
hugging the car, talking to it, calling it her baby, when suddenly she turned on
Sean and kicked him hard in the shin.
"Dammit, M. That hurt like hell!" Maria just grunted at him and walked
over to Michael.
"Arrest him! I want him arrested for grand theft auto!" Maria ignored
a pleading Sean. "Well are you going to arrest him or what?"
"No. I'm not getting in the middle of a family dispute. I'll arrest him,
your mom calls the Cap and tells him to drop the charges, and all the paper work
will be for nothing." Michael looked the car over, understanding her ire.
Hell, if it was his, he would have dropped the bastard off a bridge with an
engine block tied to his body, but that was only after he kicked him around a
bit.
"Okay, then shoot him." Max snorted as Michael looked into her stormy
eyes and shook his head no. "If you take out your gun and shoot him between
his beady eyes, I'll take you for a ride you'll never forget." Michael
caught the double meaning, and fingered his gun. Maria moved in close to him,
rubbing her body against him, feeling the hardness against her stomach. "I
swallow."
"Okay." Michael unsnapped the safety strap off his gun and was pulling
it out when Max stopped him.
"Sorry Maria, you'll have to find another way to get even that doesn't
involve my partner rotting in jail for murder."
"It would be justifiable homicide." Max just shook his head no, and
with a swear word that made his neck turn red, Maria turned on her heels and
stalked off, but not before running her hand up Michael's body.
All Michael said was "Whoa!" And Max echoed the sentiment. Then both
men turned back to a more important issue, the GTO. "What a honey, what
does she max at?"
"A clean 145 that I've seen, with maximum uptake, on an open road, she guns
higher, even the patrol cars can't match her." Max was literally jumping up
and down waiting for Sean to pop the hood. All three men groaned almost in
orgasmic release when the headers came into view, and all three leaned into the
engine resting on their forearms. The GTO was fully geared, a real muscle car.
"Maria restored her from the ground up, everything is authentic. It took
her three years. It's her baby."
"Does she give it full head?" Michael couldn't stop himself from
running his hands over the satin finish. It probably resembled Maria's skin.
Somehow talking cars made him think of sex, which in turn made him think of
Maria, which in turn caused him to lose all room in his jeans.
"Oh yeah, she likes to run it out in the desert during the weekend
sometimes." Sean didn't even try to keep the envy out of his voice. He
spent months looking for a good frame of a car he wanted. He was going to
convince Walter and Maria to help him restore his own.
Michael considered what he knew from meeting Maria since this morning. That
thought shocked him. Had it only been since this morning? Actually only a few
hours, but damn it already felt like a lifetime, in a good way. He knew more
about her, wanted her more, and now envied her more than his last girlfriend
whose name slipped his mind. "Sounds like she needs a speeding
ticket."
Sean snorted as he closed the hood, much to the disappointment of both Max and
Michael. "Yeah, but you'd have to catch her first, and gentlemen, there
hasn't been a man alive that can tame or catch my little cousin."
Michael filed the challenge away for later thought, and asked a real important
question. "Think she'd let me drive it?"
Sean looked at Michael closely, feeling a slight fear rising. "The only way
a man is getting behind this wheel is if it's true love, because Maria won't
give up control to just anyone."
********************************************************************************
After they left the loft, the rest of the day was routine. It was a long and
winding road with lab reports, leads to follow, and endless phone calls. All
those years ago, Michael used to watch cop shows with his dad, Mikey Guerin, and
somehow the action and stories seemed so action filled, so romantic. But police
work, or specifically Detective work was almost eighty percent phone calls. It
didn't matter, he'd rather do this job than any other, and especially Vice. He
didn't envy Sean DeLuca in the least. The man was living a hard life.
Finally getting home well after eleven at night, Michael whole body stiffened at
a sound to his right. Quickly drawing his gun, he turned to point it straight
into the face of Max's sister, Isabel.
"Dammit, Iz, how many times have I told ya not to sneak up on me?"
Michael looked her over and with a sigh opened the door and gestured her inside.
The smell of booze and sex hit him as she walked by. Iz went in and looked
around his empty apartment. There was hardly any furniture, and the place looked
bare.
"I thought you were going to replace some of your stuff." Michael shut
the door and stooped down to pick up a shoe Isabel lost.
"I did." Michael moved to the phone and he picked it up to dial Max.
"The bed, wardrobe, a sofa, coffee table, first class stereo, all my CDs,
large television and VCR, and kitchen crap." The phone rang, but Max hadn't
answered it yet. He must still be on his way home. Hanging up, Michael turned to
look at Isabel.
"Want to tell me what's going on?" Isabel just shook her head no and
leaned back on the sofa with her eyes closed. "You smell like cheap booze,
sex, and do I need to check you for tracks?"
Michael sighed and put his head down closing his eyes as the once beautiful
woman started to cry. Isabel was still beautiful, but she was choosing a hard
road, a hard life, and one that aged a person ten years for every one.
"I'll try Max again."
Isabel set up straight at that. "No, please Mikey, don't." Michael
winced at the name of Mikey. That was his father's name, his was Michael, and in
all these years Isabel couldn't or didn't know the difference or why it was
important to him to have his own name. "I just had a bad day, that's
all."
"I can understand bad days, Izzy, but weren't you supposed to call someone
when these rough spots hit?" Isabel just nodded and looked around the room.
"How bad was it, Iz? Do you remember what you did, who you did?"
A sob escaped her as she said no in a dazed voice. "I thought I was getting
better, 'ya know? Maybe I was over the worst of it, but then today I met a girl
I use to go to school with before "It" happened. She was a doctor.
God! A freakin' doctor, and what am I? My whole damn life gone, lost in a
bottle, shot up in smack, and I can't remember the last time I dated a man, and
I mean really dated. Sure I f-uck them all the time, not for money, sometimes
for junk, but mostly just to lose myself."
"Okay, okay, I know." Michael went over and sat on the arm of the sofa
and rubbed her shoulder. "I can't help you here, you know that. It's too
late for help from either Max or me. You, Isabel, you need to make the decision!
Either get up tomorrow and get some help, or die this way!"
"I want to, I really do." Isabel wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
Looking down at herself she was appalled at how skanky she was dressed, how low
she had sunk. The girl she ran into today reminded her of all she lost, all she
let go of over five years ago. Tears filled her eyes as she felt disappointed.
It was hard to feel so much hatred for herself, but she did.
Michael looked down at her, and felt that pull, that kinship that was present
from the first day he met her, and the same one he felt for Max. Letting rare
compassion sweep across his face, he reached down and offered her his hand.
"Come on. Let's start by getting you a bath." Isabel silently agreed.
She couldn't stand the smell of a stranger on her body, and the sooner she could
remove it the better.
"Why do you take care of me, Mikey?" Michael just shook his head. Hell
if he knew. While she was in the bath, he sat out a pair of sweats, socks, and a
t-shirt that actually belonged to Max. Isabel was a large woman, not fat, but
rather large as in statuesque. On a crappy day she could make men salivate, and
even looking like a twenty dollar whore on smack, she still carried herself with
a sense of dignity. She could wear both his and Max's clothes, so he had no
problem getting her something to wear while he burned that dress she had on.
Picking up the phone he tried Max again. This time he answered.
"Yeah, your dime."
"Maxwell, I seemed to have found something that belongs to you."
Michael heard the silence on the other end, and understood Max's unhappiness.
"She okay?" Michael hated this part the most.
"Yeah, I've got her in the bath right now. I think she'll be out for the
count in the next hour." Max's tired voice came over the line with more
weariness than Michael could bear.
"How bad?"
Michael took the phone away from his mouth and with clenched jaw closed his eyes
for a moment. "The usual. I'll run her by the clinic in the morning, and
have them check her over." Michael could tell from the silence that Max was
close to breaking, that he wasn't doing well. "Don't worry Maxwell, I've
got her covered tonight." Neither said anything for a few moments, but they
both knew that Isabel was a sinking ship, she needed to find redemption, a sense
of peace before the world swallowed her alive.
"Thanks Michael." And Michael hung up the phone after the click told
him Max disconnected.
It was hard, real hard, for both Max and Isabel. They loved their parents, but
they were high profile lawyers that crossed the wrong people. All it took was a
car bomb one night over six years ago to destroy one life, and alter the other
forever. Max had been in law school when it happened, destined to join his
parents in their law firm after he passed the bar. He was so close, but after
"It" happened he couldn't stomach defending people who were monsters,
who preyed on the weak and defenseless, so he quit law school and the next day
signed up for the police academy.
Isabel had been at the University studying psychology. Her whole life had been
planned out, by her since she was fifteen. She was going to school to become a
psychologist, then she was going to marry a rich and successful man being his
trophy wife, and after two children, they were going to live out their lives in
relative ease. It didn't work out that way. When her parents were killed, Isabel
left school, hit the streets, parties, flying high on smack and anything else
she could find to dull the pain. Between sex, drugs, and alcohol she was fast
becoming a junky so strung out that her life expectancy was only another ten
years at best. That was how Michael found her a year after her parents died,
strung out in a back alley. She was engaging in sex with a man up against a
trash receptacle when suddenly he started beating her. She had no memory of what
happened. But Michael who was undercover with Vice saw it, and broke his cover
to save her, to take her home.
He called the number in her bag and found Max, a rookie cop still in blues. From
the moment he saw her, saw Isabel, it was like he knew her. Then Max came to the
door to get his sister, and with one look they knew. It was if the familiarity
told them more then their memories could, that somehow they were connected. The
three had been together since that day--best friends.
Michael looked up at her as she slowly entered the room, looking younger and
even more vulnerable with all the makeup gone, the tiredness lining her face. He
poured the soup he made her in a bowl and set it out on the kitchen bar
gesturing her to come eat. Isabel sat down and tasted the soup trying not to
grimace. Campbell's tomato, she hated it, but smiled when Michael handed her a
bottle of Tabasco.
"I f-ucked up again, huh?" Isabel sipped the soup not looking at
Michael.
"Yeah, but I'll take you to the clinic tomorrow." Michael hated this,
hated seeing her so lost. "Iz, you know unprotected sex is dangerous. Max
can't afford to lose you. You're all he's got, and all I've got too."
Isabel looked at him and smiled. "Why do 'ya think we never... you
know...got to together or even gave it a try?" Isabel looked him over. He
was more than handsome, and sex was something he seemed to carry in his skin,
but somehow there was never a spark of interest between them even though both of
them felt a connection that was strong and lasting.
Michael sighed and pulled his sweats away from his body and looked down to check
out his dick and balls, the full package. "Yeah, they're still there. And
that is why we never got together." Isabel looked at him, and then suddenly
started laughing. He smiled liking the sound of her laughter, sometimes it
seemed that was the part of her that was lost, the part that was buried with her
parents. Passing the crackers to her, he poured her a glass of milk.
"You're one mean bastard, Michael Guerin." Michael nodded at that. It
was best people knew that from the getgo, just so there wasn't confusion or
false expectations.
"One day, I'm going to see you settled, in love and loopy." Michael
laughed at the threat to his bachelorhood.
"In the ground, little sister, in the ground, that's the only way."
And once again, as watching his surrogate sister finish her soup, he thought
about Maria DeLuca.
****************************************************************************
PART 2
Maria thought the day before had to be the worst day of her life, but she was
wrong. The next day started sucking immediately when her cat threw up in her
bed, and already late for work, she realized that she would have to take the GTO
or catch a cab, since a police officer took her to the police station in a squad
car, and then Guerin and Evans brought her home.
The headache from the previous day was still hanging on behind her right eye
threatening to re-emerge. As soon as she hit her department, and was trying to
make it to her office and coffee so sludgelike it could wake the dead, her
Department Head, Kenneth Price, otherwise christened, "Large Fat Toady
Jerk" by Maria, stopped her in the hall to encourage her to kill herself.
Tess saw her coming, and looked down the hall to make sure his royal toad was
gone. "How bad was it?"
"Bad," Maria rubbed her eyes and refused to cry reminding herself that
she didn't cry. Seeing a cup of swamp sludge waving before her face, she smiled
at Tess and took the cup, sipping, and then closing her eyes to savor the buzz
running over her body to give her another chance of living through the day.
"According to Kenny boy, I'm stupid, lazy, inept, lacking in any redeeming
qualities, responsible for the mess the museum is in now, responsible for Chris
Delaney being murdered in the Peruvian room, and the Antichrist. Oh, and my next
chapter draft of my thesis is due at the end of next week, no excuses."
"Jerk."
"Yeah, that's about the half of it." Maria downed the rest of the
coffee. "Okay, back to bigger and better things. Did you check out 'The
Guerin Body'?"
"I did. But I think cheesecake boy Evans, has a better body." Tess
smiled as Maria sorted through her stack of material getting ready for her first
class.
"Hellooo!! Ears!! If a large wind came he would flap away, though I thought
he was very nice." Maria grabbed a stack of finished exams relieved to be
getting rid of them, and another stack of finished essays. "Now 'The Guerin
Body', that's another story. There's nothing, and I mean nothing wrong with that
tall drink of cool water. Delicious! I could start at one end and kiss my way up
his entire body, stopping to savor some choice juicy spots along the way."
Maria smiled as Tess laughed herself sick. It was good to hear her laugh. Tess
had few reasons to laugh or even to enjoy life. A year ago her young husband,
Jack Hardy took a bullet in the line of duty. He never made it out of surgery,
so Tess at twenty-five was widowed.
"Did you notice those eyes? Those lips, oh yeah, those lips are totally
suck and nibbleworthy." Maria was just warming on her subject. "But I
think it's his hands. My god, I think I had a wet dream last night just about
his hands!" Maria kept organizing her stacks as she talked, never noticing
someone coming to stand at the door. Tess just shook her head at Maria. After
the last year she was used to Maria's brash and outspoken manner over anything
that came into her head. It was freeing to see someone so comfortable with
themselves to be so forthright. "Geez, do you think it's true about a man's
hands being indicative of his size? I sort of brushed up against it yesterday,
and it wasn't a Gerald Tiny, no sir! It had discernible ridges and everything
even through two layers of denim. I think..." Maria was interrupted by a
small cough from the door.
"Excuse me?" Maria turned quickly and looked at the figure in the
door. The young girl in the doorway looked lost and very embarrassed. At first
Maria thought it was one of her undergrads, but looking closely she noticed that
despite slimness and looking young, the woman was just that, a woman. "I
was looking for a Professor DeLuca."
"That would be me," Maria came around the desk and offered the woman
her hand, "and you would be...?"
"Liz Parker, I'm affiliated...I mean the Department...um...the Police
Department sent me to help with the artifacts." Maria's head was starting
to hurt again just from trying to wait for the girl to spit it out.
"Okay, cool, the more the merrier. I've got a full crew, but I know the PD
wanted their people on hand in case we found anything illegal. Right now we're
trying to get everything catalogued and checked against inventory to see if
anything is missing." Maria worried about the young woman. She seemed so
timid, so ready to fade into the wallpaper. There were undergrads in her class
that had more confidence. "Okay, so let me drop you there on my way to my
first class. This is my assistant, Tess Hardy."
Liz smiled at the other young woman with pretty blond hair, and colorful clothes
wishing she could dare to wear anything that bold. Suddenly her faced clouded as
she recognized the name. "You didn't know a Jack Hardy, did you?"
Maria quickly looked at Tess and then Liz. It was hard to see the smile leave
Tess's face and a wash of paleness followed by sadness take over her usually
animated face. "He was my husband." Maria felt moisture behind her
eyes, knowing Tess must be feeling worse, she quickly asked Tess to get Liz a
cup of coffee.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think." Liz watched the other girl flee and felt
her ineptness at social settings painfully. "He was a nice man, always
friendly."
"Yes. Yes he was." Maria didn't know who to feel sorriest for, Tess or
this poor timid creature. It wasn't hard really since she knew Tess longer, and
her loyalties had to go to friends first. But to ease the awkwardness, Maria
smiled and suggested they head over to the library and get Liz settled.
The day was busy and the museum was filled with people lending a helping hand.
Maria had moved in and out of the chaos to make her classes and run around, go
to meetings, and talk to students. It was a relief after her last class was
taught for the day, she could dedicate herself to the museum.
The Liz Parker woman was interesting, smart, but all so reserved. Maria noticed
that she tended to isolate herself from the others, only smiling at the antics
of the others, but never really joining in. So Maria took it upon herself to
draw the woman out as her personal mission in life, very much like the one she
assigned herself when Tess's husband died.
"What is this?" Liz asked Maria who was working next to her. It
surprised her when Maria had set up her work station next to Liz, and with her
the entire room shifted bringing everyone closer until Liz found herself working
in the middle of the group. Maria laughed at the gourd.
"That's a penis gourd," Maria tried not to laugh at the confusion on
Liz's face. "It's a decorative piece. Some tribes use these gourds, dry
them, decorate them, and then slide them on a man's penis instead of pants or a
cog piece."
"You mean they used it to cover their...thing?" Maria looked at Liz in
concern. Okay, no one on her staff called a man's penis a 'thing' or a
"sausage' or any other euphemistic term that was sophomoric and juvenile.
They were all adults, penis, dick, c-ock, or even a few other words were
acceptable to correctly refer to the male genitals, but 'thing' was not.
"But, it's so long and big?" Maria laughed as did the rest of the
group at the embarrassment poor Liz was suffering.
"Well, the bigger, the better, the more prestigious." Maria tried to
take pity on Liz. It was tough being in a room of crass anthropologists,
geologists, and a historian more than happy to be descriptive in a manner that
was unsuitable for genteel society. "See the top of the pointy gourd has a
braided string that is worn around the neck to keep it from bobbing all about
the place, and the base of the gourd slipped over a man's penis with these
braided strings looping around their legs and waist and between their ass cheeks
to hold it in place." Maria stopped when it looked like Liz was going to
faint dead away. "Oh hell, let's just get," Maria looked around and
spotted one her best friends and a graduate student, "Eddie to demonstrate
it."
The whole group exploded in laughter and catcalls as Eddie stood up and started
unzipping his jeans. Some where chanting for him to take it off, real slow,
while others were whistling and stomping feet and beating out a primitive beat.
Liz looked at the group, and couldn't help but smile. They were so loud, so
alive, undisciplined and happy. "Okay, okay, let's put it away Eddie. We've
got no time to play. We'll continue this at my place this weekend at group
review."
The group continued to laugh and joke making rude comments as they went back to
work. Cassie Welsh was working hard with the group, laughing and having a good
time, but still she was held off from the rest. It wasn't anything that she did,
but something about her personality had the group politely letting her join in,
but yet keeping her at a distance. Strangely enough they had no problem with Liz
Parker. It was like they found her timid demeanor endearing, almost needing
protection, so they gently tried to include her in their shenanigans.
Dianne wandered in and plopped herself down next to Maria and Liz. She was
carrying her usual bag of toasted almonds. Maria reached in popped a few in her
mouth, munching away as Dianne went into great detail all the gossip of the day.
Liz even broke in to ask a few questions, so Dianne finally turned the subject
to Gerald Tiny and his mini-me making Liz laugh with color staining her cheeks.
That was how the detective team of Guerin and Evans found them. Both were bowled
over at the difference in Liz Parker in just a few hours of exposure to Maria
DeLuca and her crazy life. The mousy brown woman had color in her cheeks, a
twinkle in her eyes, and she was laughing a fun range laugh with her voice
altering to make a funny squeaky sounds as she mimicked other members of the
group.
Michael turned to make a comment to Max and just gave up rolling his eyes. Max
was thunderstruck, practically paralyzed by the Parker beast. Figures. This had
to be DeLuca's fault. She found Parker a personality, or at least lent her one
for a while, and now Max was lovestruck, practically mooing with big cow eyes.
Michael swore under his breath when Liz looked up and her eyes met Max's and
they stared across the room at each other oozing sickly sweet looks that had
Michael icking under his breath.
Maria looked up and saw something she wanted. Oh, the Guerin He-Body was in her
house, on her turf. Yum. Seeing the looks between Liz and Max, Maria decided to
give it a helping hand. "Detective Evans, could I trouble you for a little
assistance?" Max tore his glance away from Liz to see a smiling Maria, and
without realizing he was doing it, he smiled back. What was it with this woman?
Drawn like a moth to a flame, he went to stand by her, waiting for her to
command him to her will. "Could you finish helping Liz here with this while
I talk to your partner? It should only take a few moments, and Liz will show you
what to do." Max took Maria's spot and Maria caught Dianne's look and they
both shared a private communication over the couple's heads.
Maria slowly made her way to Michael, stopping to answer questions along the
way. By the time she made it to his side, Michael was feeling a slight
impatience. "Detective? Could I see you in my office for a second."
Michael looked over at his partner, shook his head in disbelief and then nodded
to Maria following her into her office. As soon as the door shut he found
himself pushed up against it, and his mouth engaged in a fullblown kiss with
Maria DeLuca. He had spent most of the night in his bed and most of the day
trying to think of ways to get in this very position with her, and here she was
doing all the work for him! Maria DeLuca was definitely his kind of woman. For a
man that liked to dominate, to be the controller in everything, her aggressive
brash treatment of him and her refusal to shrink from his obvious sexual desire
for her licked rivers of molten fire down his body, into places he never felt
before. And if he wasn't enjoying it so much, he would have been appalled at how
much he liked her messing him up. Pushing him.
The energy burst through them, a shock of pure feeling, intense and powerfully
overwhelming. Maria's fingers locked onto Michael's biceps, clinging when their
lips met and devoured each other's mouths. Heat rose between them, surrounding
and saturating them with this need that was building since the day before.
Michael moved his mouth away from Maria's, roaming down the curve of her neck,
not so gently sucking the skin between his teeth. Maria breathed in gasps of air
as if she was a drowning victim, but she didn't resist what was happening,
caught up like Michael in the moment, her body rubbing hard against the obvious
stiffness pressing into her.
The surge subsided momentarily and they pulled back, practically shoving away
from each other, to stare again at one another in shocked surprise and near
panic. Maria didn't know it would take off that fast, that hard. Clearing her
throat she tried to smile, but couldn't, so instead she pushed her hair off her
hot skin. "I'm sorry. Okay, I'm not sorry, but I promised myself that I
would do that the next time I saw you." A spark of interest and mischief
entered her eyes. "You want to file assault charges and handcuff me,
Detective? Maybe frisk me?"
"It was wrong. This is wrong." Maria just shrugged as Michael tried to
make that point clear. She liked the sound of his voice, so much deeper than
usual, the halfclosed heavy look to his eyes, and the redness of his lips from
where she sucked them into her mouth. He looked...mussed up.
"Why? Because I'm a witness or a suspect in your investigation?" Maria
was feeling a little pissed. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why
couldn't they just go with what they were feeling?
"No, because you're a pain in the ass." Maria shrugged again, like
that was a bad thing. Michael stopped her from making a smart remark with
another quick kiss. "I don't have time to do this correctly, at this
moment... Max and I are on a stakeout tonight. As it is, I was just checking in
before I left, and then you do "this"...Michael pulled her hard up
against his body so she could feel and know what the hell "this" was.
Damn he was hard! All pokey against her stomach... Maria's eyes half closed and
she moved her mouth a whisper's breath from his and moaned. With a growl of
frustration, Michael grabbed her and moved her back into the room, up against
her desk, and lifted her to sit on it with him between her legs, pushing her
short skirt higher up on her thighs. Leaning her back on the desk so she was
forced to put her hands behind her to brace herself against him. Papers and
books were knocked to the floor.
Michael invaded the junction between her legs, leaning into her to push his hard
erection against the soft mound, feeling the heat seeping through her clothes
and his jeans. He was going to lose it in his jeans without even getting inside
her or taking off any of their clothes! Her legs came around his waist holding
him hard and firm while she leaned back on her hands and let her head go back
exposing a full length of her neck. His mouth found the skin too much to resist.
Maria gave a shocked sound as his hands found the skin at her waist and moved
upward towards the soft underside of her breast. She hadn't even realized that
he had opened up her blouse until it was hanging up off her shoulders leaving
her bare and exposed except for her small scrap of lace she called a bra.
His hands moved to take the weight of her breast and his thumbs rubbed across
the nipples pressing swollen against the lace causing her to moan softly at the
ache. Watching him with a look of hunger she held her breath as his hand went to
unclasp her bra from the front. But before he could unfasten it, his cell phone
rang. For a second in time they both stoodstill, staring at each other, until
Michael sighed and took one hand away to try to reach something in his pocket.
The wad of bills he finally pulled from his tight jeans surprised her, as he
pulled a ten dollar bill free and gave it to her. Maria's mouth opened in
disbelief. He was paying her for what? A dry hump on her office desk? Balling
her hand up into a fist she was ready to give him a right cross when he leaned
over and licked her lip, gently pulled the bottom one into his mouth and sucked,
and then he said hoarsely, "that's for all the cussing I'm going to do over
the next few minutes." She relaxed her fist and instead ran her hand up his
arm.
Michael straightened himself away from Maria and pulled out the insistently
ringing cell phone to answer it, never once taking his eyes from her. Maria
smiled at his gruff voice, thick with passion and all so very pissed off as he
took the call. As one obscenity after another left his lips, Maria folded the
ten dollar bill and put it in her bra knowing he was watching her every move
with hawk-like interest. Hopping down from the desk, but continuing to lean
against it, she pulled down her short skirt and rebuttoned her blouse while
leaning back with her legs casually crossed at the ankles, watching him watching
her.
When he turned off the phone he gave her a thoughtful look, and then leaned in
on her with one hand resting on the desk next to her, and the other moving up
the line of buttons on her refastened blouse. "How'd you get to work this
morning?"
"What?" Maria hadn't expected that question and it left her
momentarily lost and without words. Clearing her throat and looking into his
eyes. "The GTO." Michael leaned his head against her forehead and
groaned. That was a car worth a hard-on. "Why?"
"Give me a set of keys, you can't drive two cars home, and you can't leave
the GTO overnight, or tomorrow you'll be forced to take it again." Michael
held out his hand while she reached around to find her bag surprisingly still on
her desk. (Little else was!) Taking the keys she paused handing them over.
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to drive your car home and park it after I finish work tonight.
That way when you need to get to work in the morning you won't have to drive the
GTO and leave it out in the parking lot where any idiot can ding it or even
steal it." Michael quickly kissed her again. "So give me the damn
keys." Maria chuckled and dropped the set of keys in his hand, moving her
now freed hand up his body to wrap around his neck and bring him to her for
another kiss. God, he tasted good! His tongue was rubbing against hers, sucking
her into his mouth. Her hand came around to gently stroke his cheek liking the
feel of his late in the day stubble rasping against her skin. "These for
the GTO?"
Maria snorted and pulled away from him. "You wish! No, the red Jetta in
front of the Anthropology building." Michael swore under his breath. He
should've known it would be harder to get into that car than it would be to get
into Maria. She wasn't as uptight about her body as she was about the car. She
kissed him again before he pulled away.
Michael looked at her, liking her mussed up look, liking it a lot. "You
okay?"
"Oh yeah--I'm juicy." Maria laughed at the expression moving across
his face, and he rubbed a hand across his eyes not even trying to suppress the
groan.
"Dammit, Maria!" She laughed again just because he was so cute, all
aroused and frustrated.
"Got to go to work, huh?"
Michael kissed her again, convincing himself it was the last time then he was
leaving. "Yeah...Stop teasing me."
"Oh Detective," Maria said pulling away from him and going to open her
office door despite his protest, "teasing implies that I've no intention of
following through." Maria grabbed his shirt front as he came up to her at
the door, "and there couldn't be anything farther from the truth."
Michael settled his face close to hers threatening her in a dark voice,
"This is far from over, Professor. I'm not through yet."
"I hope not, Detective. I sincerely hope not, otherwise I would be
disappointed in your..." Maria looked down at his body and then back up at
his eyes, "staying power."
Liz looked up and away from Max to see Guerin and Maria standing in her office
door. They were leaning towards each other talking, and from the look of it, the
talking was very close and intimate. Liz gasped when Michael moved in and kissed
Maria hard, pulling away slowly letting his tongue linger in her mouth. Max
followed Liz's glance and swore under his breath. Damn that was fast, faster
than he had ever seen Michael move on anyone before! Suddenly he heard Maria's
happy laughter and a dark growl from Michael.
Dianne looked over too and made a comment that made Liz blush from head to toe,
"wonder if she did him on her desk." Everyone looked at her, at
voicing the same question they had, but didn't express. "Hey, if Gerald
Tiny can do it, then why shouldn't Maria, or any of us? It's not like he's a
student. Sure when a man is caught with his pants down there are token censure
and ramifications, but if it's a woman, she is threatened with moral conduct
review and possible dismissal. I'm just saying double standards, that they
stink!"
One of the students looked over, checking out Michael and Maria. "So do you
think they did? I mean there was that loud crash before, and..."
Max said without looking up, "No, not possible. Not enough time. Michael
likes to take his time--a few hours or so." Max looked up to see all the
women staring at him. "What?"
Dianne cleared her throat twice, "A couple of hours? That's normal?"
Max with a devilment in his eyes just shook his head no. "Nope, that's a
quickie. Now if he's real serious, then he needs more time and space. Michael
hates not being thorough." Max looked up when he heard his master bellowing
across the way. Quickly getting up he waved goodbye to everyone, leaving them
gawking after him. Michael had a dark look on his face and with a quick look
down, Max knew why. Giving a radiant Maria a wink as he passed her, Max went to
hang with the devil.
Dianne looked at the others and whistled under her breath. "Think he has
brothers, or something. I need me some of that." Liz looked down as the
others started discussing sex, staying power and other subjects. Occasionally,
she would look to find Maria with a worried frown between her brows. Liz never
bothered to look over at Cassie and her reaction to the conversation. It was
well known in the PD that Cassie considered Michael her personal property.
When Janhie Kovitch found her she was immersed in requisition orders and
invoicing trying to find a better system for them to get through the artifact
faster. Dr. Kovitch was a Professor in the Anthropology Department specializing
in dead languages, and one of Maria's favorite people. This was his last year of
teaching because the University was forcing him to retire at the end of the
academic year, and the retirement wasn't a happy one. Maria felt bad for him,
part of her was ready to sic her mother on the situation and let her work up
some sympathy for the man. Dr. Kovitch was a survivor from a WWII concentration
camp. After the war, what was left of his family immigrated to America instead
of returning to war torn Poland.
"Marietta, my little one," he looked around at the crowd of workers,
some he knew, and others he did not. "What have you gotten yourself into,
my child?"
Maria laughed. She was used to him calling her a little dumpling, and numerous
terms of endearment. "Janhie, what are you doing in this place of
horror?" Maria quickly hugged the old man and led him to a seat. Kovitch
looked closely at the group of people, a shudder running through his body, and
then looked at his sweet Maria. The child was a ray of sunshine in a world full
of ugliness. The addition of her to the staff of their department was the first
breath of fresh air they had in years. He didn't like seeing anything so
horrible as death touching her. She was his angel.
"I came for you," Kovitch held her hand in his. "I said to myself
that this burden is too much for my little kugel, so here I am, to give you my
services, such as they are. Here, command me to do as you need."
Maria leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You know that this mess will wreak
hell on your blood pressure, but if you think I will send you away, forget it. I
love watching you. I need an overseer to keep the troops working. Look at
them," Maria gestured at the group who posed for the beloved professor.
"Tell me, in truth, my darling Janhie have you ever seen a more ragged
group so in need of guidance?"
"Then it is best that I came. This is more work than a small thing such as
you should withstand. Janhie will fix it for you." The older man stood and
wandered over to check out the process, and as they worked over the next few
hours every member was given his personal attention. He seemed to especially
take time with Liz, giving her instructions with the greatest care, and finally
rolling up his sleeves and helping her, telling her stories from civilization
long since gone. Then entire group quieted and listened to him as he wove
stories of epic heroes, legends of valor and greed, and the coming of kings.
It was hours before he finally had to take his leave. Pulling Maria to the side,
and having her walk him out, Janhie became very quiet. "Maria, I worry
about you. For you." Maria just smiled and patted his hand. "There is
much in this world, much that needs to never touch you. The evil that lives in
men, it's a thing, a living demon that feeds itself on the pain and despair of
the innocent. When it devours a pure one, it becomes stronger, powerful, and
even more vicious." Maria listened politely.
"I know. I can't imagine he is gone, that this could happen, here of all
places." Oh Chris, poor sweet man.
Maria stopped to help him into his coat, but as she drew back he grabbed her arm
and held her tight. His kind eyes changing, becoming dark and deadly serious,
and seeing the horror that only a man who lived through the holocaust could see.
"No, Maria, it's more, so much more. You must never be alone. Never. Lunch.
Tomorrow. You and me only. There are things to say and things to know."
With that said he looked back into the museum and Maria felt a tremor run
through his old frail body. And before she could question him more, he turned
and left.
Maria worked a few more hours with those who could stay. They ordered food and
tried to get as far as possible. Maria had arranged security to give people
escorts to their cars, even though the room had a few Roswell PD members, still
she didn't want anyone else to be hurt. Janhie had caused her blood to run cold,
and hours later she still couldn't shake the sense that he knew more than she
about this whole ordeal.
Liz was the last person left with Maria. They were stacking up the invoices and
putting away the journals. Liz kept looking over at Maria, and then away again.
It was hard, this was hard. Biting her lip, Liz made a decision.
"Um, I didn't know you knew Michael Guerin." Maria looked over at her
in surprise. They had talked most of the day, but this was the first time Liz
had initiated a topic of discussion.
"Well, only just met him yesterday, but I was hoping to know him better
soon." Liz was startled. They only met yesterday? From the scene earlier,
she could have sworn they were better acquainted, or at least knew each other
for a longer span of time. She had known Max Evans for over two years, and today
was the first time she actually talked to him about something other than police
work. Maria was like an alien to Liz, an enigma. Something to hold in awe and in
fear.
"Maria, I don't how to say this. I mean, I don't want to overstep, or butt
into something that isn't really my business, or your personal business, because
I just met you, and I really have no right to interfere or even offer you an
opinion, or even know if you want it, but..." Maria looked at the young
woman in horror. She was going to expire, or have an aneurysm or something.
"Liz, calm down, just spit it out! It's okay. I won't be offended."
Maria watched her take deep breaths to calm herself.
"Okay, it's just... I mean..." Liz saw the look Maria was giving her
and stopped stammering. "It's Michael Guerin. There's lots of rumors about
him around the Police Station, especially among the females." Liz watched
Maria c-ock her head to one side and become more aware and thoughtful.
"And?"
"Well, let's just say that he's not a very nice man." Liz paused, okay
that wasn't necessarily right. True, she and Michael never really hit it off,
but it was more than just being a nice man.
"That's okay, Liz. I'm not sure I want him nice." Maria smiled to
herself. Hell yeah! What she imagined doing with him hardly required him being
nice in any shape or form.
"No, I don't mean it like that. Really, he is a good guy and everything.
But not to be involved with, not romantically." Liz plucked at the front of
her blouse and shifted on her feet. "I've heard that women fall for him.
Hard. And he's nice to them, but emotionally? Emotionally he's lacking."
"Lacking?" Maria didn't get it. The man seemed to be hardly lacking
anything, and emotionally he seemed pretty intense. The spark in his eyes, the
growling of his breath, the groans from deep inside, as far as she could tell,
Michael Guerin seemed to be one of the more emotional people she knew.
"Let's just say that the women in his life wanted more than he could give,
wanted him to be a little more emotionally attached to them, then he was. What
I've been told is that a woman involved with him would have to do all the work
with little or no compensation." Liz turned red from the discussion.
Compensation? Maria hoped that didn't mean sex. "You're saying that I
should be careful about giving him my heart, because he doesn't have one to give
back?"
"Something like that." Liz felt better for having said it. "I
think you're wonderful. I honestly never met anyone like you before, and today
was the most fun I can remember ever having, ever. I don't want to see you
brokenhearted or trampled by Michael Guerin, so I just wanted to tell you to be
careful." Maria smiled at Liz, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. Was it
possible to already be too far gone after only twenty-four hours? But what
worried Maria the most was that Liz was the second person that day that warned
her to take care.
*******************************************************************************
Professor Janhie Kovitch sat in his offices late into the night. He knew it was
only a matter of time. Today it was clear that he had overstepped his
usefulness, that he wasn't needed to find the missing piece. Sitting at the
large work table reading through his beloved ancient text for the last time he
waited.
It wasn't a noise that alerted him that the wait was over, but the movement of
coldness, the stink of death from his own body. He knew the smell. He recognized
it from childhood. It was a smell that couldn't be forgotten, a sweetness edged
in bitter scent so strong that it choked. Keeping his eyes forward, he didn't
even turn to look or to watch. Instead he calmly folded his hands over his
beloved manuscript and bowed his head in prayer waiting for the executioners
blow. And for the first time since he was a child, he spoke to God. Jehovah. The
One he once felt had forsaken him...
********************************************************************************
Maria heard the noise, the sounds from downstairs. Turning in her bed she looked
at the clock. It was two thirty in the morning, Sean had gone to work, and the
cat snored next to her. Lying still for a few moments she tried to identify the
sounds. Was it someone walking around or just those silly night sounds that pop
up occasionally to scare you when you least expected it, and knew you were
alone. Nope, someone was definitely downstairs. Dammit, this was the first time
in weeks she actually got to bed at a decent hour, and now a burglar was going
to come and get all wacky in her house, ruin her sleep, force her to get up, or
worse call the damn police! If the police came that could mean hours and hours
of endless paperwork, talking, and possibly a trip to the doctor's for rape.
Damn. Maria turned over on her stomach and looked down between the banisters
that were at the back of her bed, down into the dark room below.
Clearing her throat, she said loudly and clearly, "Do not take the last
piece of chicken!" With that said, she turned back over and tried to go
back to sleep. She could hear the footsteps coming up the stairs, and the
movement of the bed as someone sat down beside her. Great. A gentle rapist who
believed in foreplay. Well, at least she would finally have a break in her
sexual drought, and if he didn't eat the chicken on his way out, that would be a
bonus.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Maria opened one eye at the sound
of Michael Guerin's voice. Looking up at him, she sighed and closed her eye
again to go back to sleep. Dammit, he'd probably eat the chicken just to be
spiteful. There's goes tomorrow's lunch. "Maria? Dammit, wake up! Is this
how you respond to someone breaking into your home?" Michael's voice was
rising in irritation, "Don't eat the damn chicken?"
"Well I was saving it for lunch tomorrow! You're trespassing, and I'm not
interested in having you arrested tonight, so go away." Maria felt the bed
dip under her as he leaned across her body and placed his hands on both sides of
her head, trapping her against the bed. "You're not going away are
you?"
"No." Maria startled at his voice. He said it so matter of fact,
without emotion. It was the lack of inflection that bothered her the most. His
voice was too quiet, too not Michael. Something was wrong. Even in the dark she
just knew he wasn't right in the head, that he was teetering on the verge of a
meltdown, and somehow she just knew that wasn't something he'd be able to
forgive himself.
"Okay, then you need to get out of your clothes and come to bed. I'm tired,
and it's late, so come to bed." Maria held her breath to see what he would
do. Hoping he would take the offer to lean on her, to rest, so he could find the
control he usually had, that was fast slipping away.
Finally taking the initiative, she reached up and slowly unbuttoned his shirt,
pulled it off his arms, and slowly removed it. Then taking the undershirt in
hand she pulled it over his head. Maria was surprised that he didn't protest or
say anything, just let her undress him. Pushing him back from her, she sat up
and reached over beside her and pulled the bedding back for him. "Get
in." As he slid under the covers she moved up on her knees and reached
down, removing his shoes and socks, and finally reaching for the zipper of his
pants. She moved the zipper down noticing he wasn't wearing any underwear.
Nothing. Not a boxer in sight.
As she pushed the jeans down, he helped by kicking the jeans away. Maria ran her
hands back up his body, stroking him and pulling the covers over him. It wasn't
hard to miss that he wasn't aroused. Oh baby, Maria felt sympathy rising in her
throat. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. Michael Guerin without a hard-on was
its own outrage. Lying back down in the bed, groaning in appreciation of the
nice firm mattress, the silky cool sheets and warm comforter, Maria reached over
and pulled him into her arms. He came willingly, and sprawled across her,
resting his head against her breast, listening to her heart and the sounds of
air moving through her chest. His arm was slung across her and he closed his
eyes as she moved her hands-one to push through his hair and hold his head
firmly against her, and the other to rub and stroke his naked back, offering him
comfort.
They lay holding each other tight, his arm encircling her, hugging her like a
lifeline. At first Maria didn't know what she was feeling, but the tremors that
started deep finally found their way to the surface. His whole body seemed to
shake as sobs racked him, but not a tear was shed, not even a verbal sob. It was
just the deep racking tremors of pain and despair, of feeling it so deep that
even tears couldn't give release. The dry sobs continued for a while and Maria
held him, rubbing his back and making sounds that were soft and soothing, but
with no real syntax. As she held him so many thoughts bombarded her, made her
worry and fret, and then the worst thought rose to the top, to leave her almost
numb from the possible pain. Quietly she had to ask, "Was it Max?"
To her greatest relief, he just shook his head no against her, and Maria sighed
a sense of relief, feeling tears of relief behind her eyes. Whoever it was would
be bad enough, but Max would've been impossible. Michael felt heavy lying on
her, but she didn't mind the weight, it felt good. Just kissing him on top of
his head, she stroked him to a quietness, a calm, and all she said was,
"Sleep."
When Maria woke he was on his back sprawled across her bed with an arm over his
head cushioning it. The other arm was wrapped around her, holding her tight to
his side and cushioning her body on his chest. Looking at the clock Maria was
shocked that she could still sleep for a few more hours before she needed to get
up. Running a hand up his chest and gently circling his masculine nub, she
reached over to kiss it, running it lightly against her teeth, then sucking the
nipple lightly into her mouth. Looking down in interest she watched his morning
erection grow until she couldn't resist running her hand down his body and under
the cover to lightly stroke him with gentle fingers. Now this was the Michael
Guerin she could take, the one she knew.
"Do it harder." Maria was surprised at the sound of his husky voice.
Of course he was awake, and where last night he wasn't aroused, obviously this
morning he was. Maria moved her leg away from him, where it was intertwined with
his in the night, and kicked the covers down. She wanted to see him, really see
him, and the early morning light was making that possible. Michael didn't
protest about the loss of covers. The loft was warm enough, and no amount of
cool air was going to affect his erection. He watched as she moved her hand to
the base and gripped him hard, and in a massaging motion moved upward to spread
the moisture collecting at the head. Michael groaned in his throat and closed
his eyes for a moment. Savor...he wanted to savor it, the feel of her
masturbating him, jerking him off almost better than he could do so himself.
Where the hell did she learn to touch a person like that?
She turned on her side and moved her leg to rest between his, to mate their legs
thigh to thigh as her hand kept him in a firm grip, moving him hard and firmly
until his hips moved with the motion. Dammit he wanted to be inside her, to join
with her, but at this rate she was going to finish him before they ever got that
far! And suddenly Maria moved her upper body across him until he turned his head
to look at her beautiful clear green eyes, an intense look about her, and the
soft parting of her lips allowing him just to see the tip of her tongue.
"You okay?"
Michael laughed at the question moving his hips to push himself harder into her
hand and giving her back her words from the day before. "I'm juicy."
He liked her small shout of pleased laughter.
Suddenly she looked down at her hand, back at him, and then suddenly bent down
to swipe her tongue across the head of his penis, to gather some of the
moisture. Straightening, she brought her mouth to his sharing the taste. The
touch of her tongue jumpstarted his heart and ravaged all the air from his
lungs. There was power in the kiss and it surged through them again and again,
shocking them into action.
Michael rose off the bed and pulled her up next to him. Reaching down he found
the hem of her sleeping shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the
floor. Maria removed her hand from him at his protest and moved the hand upward
to wrap around his neck to bring him to her for another long sucking kiss.
Michael fell back in the bed dragging her small body on top of his, finding the
waistband of her panties and slowly peeled them from her body while he f*cked
her mouth with his tongue. She kept pulling her mouth away from his to watch his
tongue leave his mouth to follow her lips. She was mesmerized with his actions.
Skin bared against skin, hot and tingling when the need to surge together
overcame them again...
Maria pulled away gasping for breath, something, or anything resembling air to
inflate her lungs. Looking at him and still seeing the shadows that engulfed him
last night she was concerned that he was acting without thought. "Do we
need to talk about this?"
Michael ran his hand up her now nude body to rub a nipple between his thumb and
forefinger, rolling it. "All I want to do is f*ck."
Maria smiled at him and kissed him again, "Thank god." Sure she should
be more caring, wanting to hear his problems, but at that moment and at that
time, getting him, having him was all she wanted. She wasn't sure she was ready
to share his baggage after only knowing him for well over one day.
The kiss went on and on, not letting up at all. The want to feel the other on
them drove them together and Michael took control, turning Maria around in his
arms, positioning her with her back to his chest so his arms could encircle her,
so he could lean over her shoulder sucking on her back. He soothed her with his
hands running over her front, taking one of her hands with his, moving their
hands to touch her intimately between her legs as he pressed himself into her
back letting her feel his desire rubbing against her. Maria seemed to shake with
the knowledge of what was about to happen, letting Michael drive them with a cry
and a gasp of surprise as the fingers of her hand and his entered her, stroked
her. Maria's eyes closed and her head fell back on his shoulder. His tongue
licked up the side of her neck and he whispered huskily into her ear, "I
like to watch."
Maria turned her head in surprise and looked at him, seeing him looking down her
front, watching her body and its reaction as he held both her hand and his own
firmly inside her. With his other hand holding her hip bone, he pulled her
firmly into the seat of his groin, controlling her hip movement while he pressed
hard into her back, letting his fingers move in and out of her along with her
own, occasionally rubbing the nub of nerve endings to push her higher. She heard
his groan when her other hand moved down her own body to join her other hand and
his, to grab his hand by the wrist and control his movements. Maria swore at him
softly hearing his chuckling response as she realized that his damned voyeur
soul was going to bring her off using her own hand and his while he used his own
hips to control hers and push her harder and harder into their combined hands.
Michael pushed up against Maria, chest pressed to her back loving the feel of
her all laid out against him from hip to shoulder. He lay kiss after kiss along
the back of Maria's sweat soaked neck, as the sweat from his own body mingled
with hers, kissing her just behind the ear, biting her neck and making Maria
moan with more than pain. He was teasing her in his own way, so looking at him
with narrowed eyes, she put her head back on his shoulder, sunk her other hand
that had held his wrist into herself with their fingers and then brought the
fingers up towards her mouth, wet with her own juices. She smiled as she felt
his body behind her stiffen even more, the rush of the air from his lungs as he
forgot to breathe, and his gasping groan as her own tongue came out to meet her
fingers, to lick the taste from them. Then his hand that held her hip firmly
against him released her and came up to grab her wrist and pull the fingers to
his mouth as he sucked the wet finger into him. God he was so hot! His mouth was
like a furnace and his tongue rubbed up and down the lengths of her fingers and
sucked them in and out, mimicking the movement of his other hand f-ucking her,
stroking her while they rocked gently. The power swelled within them, seeping
out and soaked back up through their pores, right through the skin of their
naked bodies, bound together in mutual need for each other.
Michael had meant to control her...push her...tease her, as revenge for teasing
him the day before. But her sucking on her fingers and then her letting him do
the same, knocked the air out of him, made him want to taste her again...and
again... to end this warfare and get on with it. He never let a woman dictate to
him before, but somehow with her, he liked it. If he pushed to be the dominant
one, forcing her into submission instead of sharing it, he realized that he
would destroy the very thing about her he liked the most, her sass and
confidence.
Moving away from her and backing up, he gave her room to turn. She moved onto
her back and lay there staring up at him, mapping out his features, seeing more
in just a look than most could read in a book. She scared him. No doubt about
it, this DeLuca creature was one scary chick, and he loved the challenging
danger and edge she represented! Her hand came up to sweep gently across his
face and with his eyes closing he reached down to rest for a second against her
until her soft sweet voice hit him, "are we going to f*ck or what?" He
quickly looked at her, fire flaming in his eyes, liking how she caught him in a
movement of weakness and found the perfect thing to say to give him back
himself.
"Yeah, in a second, first, just hold onto this." He moved her hand
over her head and put it on the railing to grip it hard. Then watching her, he
slowly started working his way down her body, moving his hands first touching
her, holding her, testing the firmness and give and then letting his mouth
follow, spending endless amounts of time on her breast. He moved down past her
stomach to finally take her into his mouth. The taste from her fingers wasn't
enough, he wanted more. A hell of a lot more, so he pushed her...opened
her...and feasted on her. The movement of her foot along his body, the tangling
of her hand in his hair and occasionally moving to grip his shoulder and the
hard bite of her nails into his skin as she moved her hips to feed him more. It
was like a singing of adrenaline in the blood, a boiling need to take what she
offered, and then take even more! It wasn't until he felt her break apart, the
echoing gasp from her throat, the tossing of her head back that he even bothered
to pay attention, to come back from that place he resided just living in the
feeling and finally moved his body up hers, to join her on the crest of her
orgasm. A part of him hated that she was right again, that she was juicy. And
another part loved it. Juicy hell, she was damn mouthwatering!
Michael surged into her, slamming hard and deep in one thrust, moving her leg to
ride high on his hip, as he wrapped another arm around her hip using it to
control her movements to synchronize their bodies together. From where he rested
heavily against her, he stretched along her length putting his other arm over
her head to grip the railing next to her hand. He looked down to see her
watching him, her breast heaving as her breath came fast and shallow, and just
when he thought he had her driven in front of him the way he liked it, she gave
him back his own words from earlier, "Do it harder." Those three words
sent his body out of control, and her other hand pulled his mouth to hers
allowing her to lick the wetness from his face, to mate her tongue to his,
tasting herself from his mouth.
Michael sucked in air, feeling Maria's back arch bringing her hip tighter into
his, and actually meet his thrusts. She wrapped fingers from one hand around his
thigh and held on, coming with a moan that had him echoing her deep in his
throat. And Michael thrust harder needing to feel her break under him, and with
the need to finish this as close to Maria's coming as possible. He forced her
smaller body down onto the bed, driving harder with his urgency, clinging with a
firm grip on Maria's hips, liking that her mouth never once stopped devouring
his. Light exploded! Energy seemed to spark out across the loft, to singe the
ceiling and railing and their bodies as well! Either that or his eyes had rolled
back in his head. A roaring filled Michael's hearing, like the crashing of waves
with a light blinding him. He tasted only Maria...felt only Maria's hot skin
against his for what might have been eternity. He could live doing nothing but
this again and again...
Sound slowly began to seep back to normal, Maria's breathing ragged in his ears,
unsteady and gasping, but the young woman's heart beat strong and fast,
powerfully alluring in its rhythm. Normal darkness descended, brightness fading
to the light from outside's early morning. And Michael was afraid to move since
every nerve ending in his body seemed alive, to be moving fast and furious like
a open electrical circuit. It was the orgasm that kept giving, and that had
never happened before. Only Maria's scent remained. Just beneath him, soft hair
tickled his nose. She smelt of sweet patchouli and honeysuckle. And her body,
pinned beneath him, still hot and sweat drenched, shivered ever so subtly. He
needed to move off her to keep from crushing her, but he couldn't. Every
movement sent racing threads of fire down his spine as all the neurons of his
overcharged body fired one synaptic relay after another. So instead he sprawled
across her body very much like the night before, and hoped she didn't mind. It
was her fault anyway, she was the one who had laid him to waste. As soon as he
stopped feeling her, smelling her, and tasting her deep in his body he would
move away...
They fell asleep that way.
****************************************************************************
PART 3
When Maria woke a few hours later she was disoriented by the amount of light.
Usually she was out of her place and to work before the sun came up, but today
she was having a lazy day. The weight pinning her down finally forced her to
open her eyes and look. It was Michael’s arm across her body, his head sharing
her pillow, and the fact he literally took up almost all of her king sized bed
sprawled across it in abandon, made her smile. Stretching and trying not to wake
him, she slowly and gently removed herself from under him, and sat on the side
of the bed. Reaching for his discarded shirt, she turned off the alarm, and got
up. After showering and dressing, Maria picked up his clothing and piled it
together in a chair, draping his shoulder holster and gun across the headboard
close to him.
On her way downstairs, she looked at him one more time taking in how dead he
seemed to the world, how tired. Grabbing the phone while making coffee, she
quickly dialed Valenti’s office and increased the amount of coffee she made to
leave some for both Michael when he woke up and Sean when he came home.
Buttering her bagel and searching the refrigerator for yogurt and fresh
preserves she listened to the phone connect to Jim’s office.
“Valenti.” Maria frowned at the anger and sound of Jim’s voice.
“Jim, it’s Maria.” Maria gulped quickly the mouthful of bagel, pouring
herself the coffee, and trying to talk at the same time.
“Maria!” She smiled at the warmth in his tone, but it was still subdued. Jim
was an easy man to like. He was firm, tough and honest, and literally putty in
the hands of her mom. “Are you okay? Did you need something?”
Maria laughed. “I’m fine, actually really fine! Listen, your Detective
Guerin stopped by late last night to bring me my Jetta from the University, and
he didn’t look in very good shape, so I had him spend the night.” Maria
heard the silence on the other end, and before Jim could comment, she quickly
finished. “Anyway, I’m on my way out the door, and he’s still sleeping,
and Sean isn’t home yet, so I wanted to set an alarm to wake him, and what
time would that be?”
“Guerin? Guerin is asleep at your house?” Maria just rolled her eyes at his
tone, and quickly looked at the clock. Damn, she needed to get going ten minutes
ago! “Um, Maria, honey, I don’t think...”
“Jim, just give me a time that he needs to be in, okay? I’m so late already,
and need to leave.”
“Well, he’s scheduled to be back by ten thirty this morning, but...”
Maria smiled as did the calculations quickly in her head. So he needed to be up
and out of her apartment no later than ten to make it to work, and quarter to
ten to stop at his place for fresh clothes, so if she set the alarm for nine
fifteen he could get up, shower, and have some coffee and breakfast before
needing to leave. “Thanks, Jim.” Maria quickly hung up the phone on a
sputtering Valenti and grabbed a piece of paper to leave Michael a note.
Running upstairs, leaving the note where he could find it, setting the alarm,
and gently brushing the hair from his forehead, she bent down and softly kissed
his lips before running out of the loft. As she headed for the door with her
coffee, book bag, and papers in hand, Maria stopped in her tracks. With a huge
smile she reversed course to go out the side door in the kitchen into the
garage. Michael moved around in his sleep at the sound of the not so quiet
engine of the GTO kicking to life and leaving the garage. The driver was gunning
it, and took off down the street at a not so legal speed.
Maria sang happily on her way to the University, loving the smell of the
interior, the feel of the conditioned leather, and the look of the soft trim of
buckskin heading with the nice pleats. It wasn’t until she was almost to the
University that she noticed her speed and quickly realized she should back it
off before she picked up a cop needing his morning quota of speeders. But she
quickly shrugged off the thought, she was in too good of a mood. The feel of a
powerful raging machine under her hands just felt too good to give up. In truth
she would love to be riding a different type of powerful raging machine...but he
looked so tired!
Maria chuckled to herself, thinking of his reaction if she asked him to fix a
speeding ticket for her, what acts and promises she would have to seduce and
bribe him with, to get him to do that one little favor for her. Maria completely
ignored the fact that she could easily get Sean, Kyle or even Jim to fix a
speeding ticket without having to promise sexual compensation, but what was the
fun in that?
Dianne turned on her way to the History building from the staff parking lot that
was between the Anthropology and History buildings. The speeding GTO was a sight
to see, a brush into the past. A happily singing Maria whizzed by to whip into
her assigned parking spot.
“Someone looks happy.” Maria turned at the sound of Dianne’s voice and
smiled at her friend. “So you want to share some of whatever you’re
taking?”
“Sorry, this is something I refuse to share, but if it makes you happy I’ll
bring you over a cup of coffee later?” Dianne just snorted at the offer making
Maria’s smile even wider.
“The rot gut that destroyed Roswell? Thanks, but no. So come on Maria, what's
putting that smile on your face and making you shift uncomfortably on your
feet?” Dianne’s eyes narrowed as she spied a mark just barely concealed on
Maria’s neck, the darker lips, and the moving around. “Dammit, you did it!
You did the totally delectable, totally f*ckable Detective Sweetie!”
“Um, I need to get to my office, so why don’t we...” Maria tried to head
off towards her building, but Dianne wouldn’t have it.
“No you don’t missy! We’re talking the dirt, girlygirl, and I’m buying
the coffee. I think we’re showcasing Crème Brulle as the coffee of the day
stolen from the English Department.” Dianne dragged Maria with her toward the
History Building.
It was a while later that Maria finally emerged to go to her office leaving a
hot and bothered Dianne fanning herself. Maria just laughed. It was a good thing
she didn’t go into any great detail or they’d have needed to call the fire
station to come hose Dianne down. They never got past the guessing:
"Ten minutes?"
"Nope."
"Half an hour? A man can do a lot in half an hour!"
"No."
"Oh my god, not an hour?"
"Nope."
"Nope?"
"Longer."
Dianne almost fainted. Ever since Max teased them when leaving the day before,
Dianne was a helpless victim of curiosity.
"How was he?”
Maria couldn’t believe Dianne asked that. How was he? He was...Oh boy, he
was... Maria stopped on her way down the stairs to the basement. He was raw,
cut, without enhancement... Oh god! Latex free, and
ala naturale'
! Oh man! Stupid! STUPID!!!
Maria rushed the rest of the way to her office, opening the door and quickly
tossing her bags and stuff down in a heap. Grabbing her desk calendar, she
flipped back counting the days from the last circled entry. Three days until her
next cycle, so that gave her four days on the inside of safe infertility.
Reaching for the phone in relief, Maria called asking someone to please bring
her a coffee, and then reaching into her bag, she called her doctor’s office
asking them to call in a birth control pill prescription for her. She never
bothered to renew them last time, since she was on a sexual hiatus induced by
excessive work, stress, and no interesting men in sight. Since her last physical
was only six months old, all she had to do was stop at the pharmacy to pick up
her prescription.
Maria looked up to see Tess entering the door with a cup of monkeybrain coffee
and a paper under her arm. Grabbing some hard cash, and the ten Michael gave her
the day before for cussing a blue streak, Maria stood up. “Thank god, Tess!
Here’s some cash. I need you run down to the Eckerd’s Drug and pick up my
prescription and a box, a huge box of extra large, extra strong, extra
protective, durable condoms with the extra spermicide--ribbed if possible
and...” Maria said in a muffled tone as she dug in her bag for more money, “
you know you can’t be too careful, so get me some spermicidal gel too, you
know the contraceptive type they use with diaphragms, largest tube possible
and...”
Maria paused and looked up when Tess didn’t make a sound. The young woman was
sheet white, trembling, and swaying on her feet. Tossing the money on the desk
with her bag, Maria quickly rounded the desk and grabbed her, holding her
firmly, while looking around for a place for her to sit. Giving up, she kicked
the stacks of books off a chair and maneuvered Tess into it. “Tess?” Maria
was worried. Tess wasn’t talking, and tears were welling up in her eyes.
Maria put the coffee down behind her on the desk, and took the paper that Tess
was holding out to her. Leaning back, Maria opened the paper and saw the
headline,
“Three Officers Down in Drug Bust.”
Maria felt her heart sink as she quickly scanned the story. It was Michael’s
bust from last night, the something that went wrong. But it was the information
that one officer was declared dead at the scene, and the remaining two were
transported to the hospital and were in critical condition--Detective Kyle
Valenti’s name jumped off the page, choking Maria and making her look sharply
at Tess.
Kyle and Tess knew each other very well, and when Jack Hardy was still alive
they used to go everywhere together. But after Jack died, Kyle couldn’t stop
blaming himself for Jack’s death so he avoided Tess like the plague. It had
been a hard lonely year for both Kyle and Tess, losing Jack and each other’s
friendship. Dammit, no wonder Jim’s voice had sounded so different this
morning!
“Tess, let me call the hospital and see if there's any news.” Maria reached
behind her and took the coffee and handed it back to Tess. “Here, you drink
this. I think you need it more than I do.”
Maria reached over and grabbed the phone to make a few phone calls. Keeping an
eye on Tess, she talked to the ICU clerk and asked to be transferred to the
nurse taking care of Kyle. Normally it would have been hard to get information,
but Maria told them she was his stepsister, and wanted to know how he was and if
he had a comfortable night. After talking for a while, Maria got the information
and visiting hours. Hanging up she settled back and watched Tess for a few
moments. The young woman looked shell-shocked.
“Tess?” Maria knelt down beside her lifting her head and looking in her
eyes. “We need to go, Tess. Kyle is waiting for us.” Maria slowly got to her
feet and grabbed her purse, leading Tess out of her office stopping to lock the
door. They stopped to get Tess’s things and leave a message with the secretary
to have her classes cancelled for the day.
In the car over to the hospital, Tess was silent. When she finally spoke it was
so soft that Maria hardly heard it. “I can’t lose him too. I can’t.”
Maria frowned at the road, and tried to keep the trembling out of her hands as
she drove. Kyle was a wonderful man, funny and kind, but somehow he retained
that sense of a young man with horrible humor and carefree attitude. He was
still in critical condition. They only had him in surgery last night for an
hour, but he lost so much blood and shock was a problem. According to the nurse,
he had taken a bullet through the shoulder, ripping through arteries and nerves
and tearing away muscle. The bullet had come too close to his lungs and heart,
and despite being out of surgery fast, his time in the recovery room was over
eight hours before he was stable enough to transfer to the ICU.
Maria wasn’t surprised to see Jim at the hospital, and other members of the
PD. “Jim?” He turned to see Maria and stopped at the sight of Tess. He
hadn’t seen Tess since the day they buried Jack Hardy, and Jim felt bad that
he hadn’t checked on the young widow. From the look of her, as she was twisted
a Kleenex in her hands, this wasn’t easy for her. Tess stopped and looked into
the ICU without entering. It was the same place she sat waiting with Kyle for
Jack to come out of surgery and recovery, but he never made it that far.
“Maria.” Jim reached over and kissed her on the cheek, and then took Tess in
his arms in a strong hug. He looked at Maria over Tess’s head, and they both
seemed to share a common understanding. Tess needed to see Kyle immediately. Jim
nodded and led Tess into the ICU room where Kyle was sleeping. Maria followed
slowly, waiting and watching from the doorway, as Tess approached the bed, took
his hand and then sat at the chair beside the bed and cried.
********************************************************************************
Michael didn’t even bother to look up from the bed when the annoying buzzing
went off. Reaching his hand over he slapped at the sound, until he found the
snooze alarm, pushed it, and then sliding the button to the left he turned it
off. Michael sighed deeply and rested for a moment longer, enjoying the feel of
the bed, the comfort of it, the smell of Maria. Maria...!
Looking up from the pillow he knew immediately that he was alone, and a quick
glance at the clock told him it was just after nine. Rolling over onto his back,
his eyes spied a white piece of paper on the pillow next to him. Grabbing it and
lying back, Michael read Maria’s note:
“Michael, according to your Captain you’re to get your worthless butt to
work by ten thirty. There’s coffee in the kitchen and food. Feed my cat. This
time you get off lucky. Next time I’ll have you arrest yourself for breaking
and entering. Maria.”
Michael smirked and looked over noticing his clothes, and his hanging holster.
He had taken it off last night walking up the stairs and had dropped it on the
floor by the bed when he sat down.
Maria pissed him off last night. When he got to her place he needed to see her.
Didn’t know why, just did. So he used the house key on the chain with the car
keys to open her door. The house had been quiet, and feeling stupid for even
thinking about waking her, he went to get a beer from the refrigerator .
Her voice stopped him before he ever opened the door. “Don’t take the last
piece of chicken.”
That pissed him off. Not the chicken, but that she would just say that to an
unknown perpetrator, instead of being quiet, hiding, calling 911, or arming
herself, she tells them to leave her chicken alone and goes back to sleep. Her
fearlessness and reckless devil-may-care attitude pissed him off. Didn’t she
understand how devastated people in her life would be if she was murdered in her
bed, or physically harmed or raped? Instead, she calmly turned over and went
back to sleep. The woman was scary and a menace!
It changed. Something altered from the moment she opened an eye and looked at
him, and then told him to leave her alone and come to bed. Everything changed.
His life skewed, went off kilter. Or maybe it finally righted itself, he
didn’t know. All he knew was her hands on his body, her voice gentle and
nonspecific, and the smell of her as he lay across her body, her hands rubbing
his back, gentling him to sleep and letting him forget and find rest.
Michael didn’t even want to think about what happened hours later in the early
morning, not at that moment. When he finally dissected the scenes of making love
to Maria, he wanted to be alone, have lots of time and a beer--and possibly
Maria somewhere close by. He needed to get up and go to the hospital on his way
to work, but first he needed to call Maxwell and tell him where to pick him up.
It was the sound of the door opening below that pulled him out of his thoughts.
Not even pausing, he reached for his gun and flipped off the safety standing to
train his gun directly at the muzzle of Sean DeLuca’s similarly aimed gun.
The two men stood frozen in time in a Mexican stand-off, neither backing off.
Michael realized what it must look like to Sean seeing him roll out of Maria’s
bed nude, and in truth, it was what it was. What he saw in Sean’s eyes made
him sweat. The man was fingering the trigger, thinking, really thinking about
shooting him. Finally Michael released the hammer of his gun, turned it over,
and raised his hands, moving his head to the side with his eyebrow raising in
question, as if to say, "Whatch'a gonna do?" With a reluctant sigh,
Sean released the hammer on his gun and put it away. He just shook his head and
walked to the door under the stairs saying, “That’s twice. Next time Guerin,
I’ll shoot ya!
Michael put his gun away and went to shower. Before he went downstairs, he
looked at the bed and seeing the rumpled sheets, a frown creased his brow.
Picking up his stuff, he went down to pour himself a cup of coffee. Not even
bothering to look at the door when it opened, he calmly poured Sean a cup, too.
“You used all the hot water.” Sean accused as he picked up the cup and took
a sip. It was getting strong since it had been a few hours since Maria made it,
but still better than PD coffee. Michael finally looked at Sean, they stared at
each other, neither speaking nor saying what was understood. If Michael hurt
Maria, Sean would find him, and it wouldn’t be pretty. Michael just nodded his
head that he understood.
Sean walked around him and grabbed the bagels, some eggs, and bacon from the
refrigerator. He turned and passed Michael the bagels to toast as he pulled out
cooking pans to break six eggs in one pan and a pound of bacon in the other.
“We need to get some bread. All M seems to insist on having in the house is
bagels. I think she thinks it’s a food group, but I like toast.”
Michael just grunted. He wasn’t sure he was necessarily going to be a fixture
in the household, but then again Maria’s house was much more comfortable than
his, and he wasn’t sure he wanted another female in his home. A man could only
replace everything in his life so many times. His last relationship took
everything when she left, including the ice trays. What kind of sick bitch took
the ice trays? Michael would’ve arrested her for the ice trays alone if he
could’ve remembered her damn name! One thing was sure, he wasn’t anywhere
near finished with Maria DeLuca, and if she wanted his ice trays? Hell, he would
bring them over himself!
Sean poured three eggs into a plate for Michael and half the bacon as Michael
passed him two bagels. It was the cell phone in Michael’s jacket that finally
broke the deadlock they had over the last cup of coffee, as Sean poured it into
his cup while Michael answered his phone.
“Guerin.”
“Yeah, that’s why I called your cell phone hoping it would be you.”
“Evans, loser.” Michael said smiling at his partner’s voice.
“I’m on my way to pick you up so get your crap together.”
Michael quickly interrupted Max before he could hang up the phone. “I’m not
at home.”
Michael could hear the pause, and the hesitation in Max’s voice. “Okay. So
where do I find ya?”
“Maria’s.”
Sean looked over at Michael as he talked to his partner. Michael seemed to be
squirming while talking, like somehow having people know he was at Maria’s
made him uncomfortable. “I see. I’ll be there in ten.” Max hung up.
“You go to the hospital last night?” Michael turned to look at Sean and
nodded. “It was a bloodbath. The kid, Wilson, he was a good man. He would’ve
made a good officer, a real asset. We’ll find Pierce if it kills us.”
Michael just nodded. He didn’t want to talk about it, not about Kyle, not
about Jim Wilson, a twenty year old rookie, and the patrolman, Karl Irons, a
twenty-five year veteran who was not expected to ever walk again. Pierce was
still out there, walking, living, and breathing. They would find him, but at
what cost, and how long? “Kyle. Any news?”
Michael’s face shuttered and a blank dead look, a stony silence moved over his
face. “No. We stayed last night until he was out of surgery, once he was in
recovery there was no reason to not go home. We’ll stop on our way in this
morning.”
The knock came at the door before Sean could say any more, and Michael was
relieved. He didn’t want to talk about it, discuss it. He stood to gather his
stuff as Max walked in the door. “Max.” Sean said as he gestured Max into
the loft.
“Hey Sean. Thanks for the assistance last night. We were really pinned. You
and the others showing up made it possible to get Karl and Kyle to the
hospital.” Sean just nodded.
It was a bad deal last night when the place they were staking out was hit by a
competitor of Pierce’s who was running other drug shops across town, so before
the cops could move in they found themselves pinned down in a fire fight, and
the ammo flying around was cop killers, armor piercing rounds that tore through
metal and Kevlar like butter.
The young officer, Wilson, Karl Irons’ new trainee, never stood a chance. He
took three bullets dead center, with one taking out his aorta. He lay in the
street as his heart pumped all his blood out of his body, his arms and legs
twitching. Kyle, who watched him go down, tried to stop Karl from going after
him and just barely pulled Karl back undercover, but not before a bullet ripped
through his lower back severing his sacral spine.
Kyle, seeing the young man in the middle of the street bleeding to death,
couldn’t leave him--not after losing Jack, so he went after him. Finally it
took Michael going after the two of them to get them out of the street, but by
the time he reached Kyle, Jim Wilson was already gone, and Kyle had taken a
bullet through his shoulder, ripping through the Kevlar vest like it was nothing
thicker than tissue paper.
Max was firing covering rounds to protect Michael while he was out of cover, but
it was the arrival of Sean and a few other officers from Vice that finally
turned the fight, and the drug runners fled. During the fire fight, Pierce,
their main objective slipped away, and by the time everything cleared, he was
long gone. All Michael could see was the blood everywhere, a fallen friend and
comrades, a few dead drug runners, and the shutdown of a drug lab. But the big
man, Pierce, won again because he was still free.
Sean just nodded, his eyes almost as dead as Michael’s. Max quickly looked at
his partner putting his shoulder holster on and headed for the door. “Come on
partner, we need to stop and get you some fresh clothes, and stop in to check on
Kyle before we hit the precinct.” Max opened the door and gave Sean a nod.
“Later, DeLuca.”
********************************************************************************
When Michael saw her she was leaning against the door jamb of the ICU, looking
in on Kyle. Coming up behind her, he leaned his body into hers, and was
surprised when she seemed to sense his presence and lean back to rest on him.
His arm came up to encircle her waist, taking more of her body against his. The
sensation of her against him felt so good that he never noticed Max’s shocked
look taking in their stance. He wasn’t the only one watching them. Jim Valenti
was too.
“Who’s that?” Michael asked Maria.
“Tess Hardy, my assistant. She and Kyle, they’re friends, or at least they
were. Tess was married to Jack Hardy.” Maria continued to watch Kyle sleep,
and Tess too. She had laid her head down while holding his hand and soon had
fallen asleep. Max and Michael looked at each other. They knew Jack, but had
never met his wife. Looking at the small body holding tight to Kyle’s hand
Michael felt a sense, a touch of knowing, that somehow Tess was something to
him. Looking over at Max he saw the same flash come over Max’s face, that and
something else, that was soon gone.
Maria looked back at Michael and smiled, and then at Max. “I need to get back
to the University. I think I’ll leave her here and check back later. Tess
seems to need to know he’ll be okay.” Maria patted Michael on the stomach as
she moved away from him and started out of the ICU. Max started to tell Michael
to go talk to Maria, but before he could, Michael was already following her.
“Maria!” She turned to see him coming up behind her. She stopped, with her
head cocked to one side. He looked better, more rested. Michael didn’t know
what he wanted to say, or why he was even running after her, but somehow he owed
her for last night. It was just too much for him, knowing he needed to say
something, but having no idea what to say. Dammit, she was a menace!
“We need bread.”
What the hell? Damn that Sean for putting that in his head! We need bread.
Smooth. Great. Just give her the idea that you are taking over her life, her
home, and her body. Okay, the body thing was okay, that he could do.
“Good morning to you too.” Maria grabbed his shirt front and pulled him into
the stairwell kissing him on the mouth real slow... When they pulled apart, she
pulled him back for a longer more intense kiss, sucking his tongue deep into her
mouth, savoring the taste of her toothpaste on him, and feeling the rough rub of
his tongue against her own, loving the sound of a groan in his throat when she
gently scraped his tongue with her teeth, nipping him. Michael pulled her close
and got into the kiss. This was something he could do. Once again she ignored
his awkwardness and took their relationship back to physical. It worried him
that she seemed happy to just be physical without emotional ties, but it was
still early yet to tell.
“What are you doing for lunch?” Michael almost groaned aloud, and would have
pulled away in confusion if Maria wasn’t still kissing him, if her hand
hadn’t found its way inside his shirt to rest against his skin, and if she
didn’t make kissing seem like a sexual act all its own and not just...a kiss.
What the hell was wrong with him? What are you doing for lunch? Was he planning
on taking her somewhere, come by and share lunch with her? No. So what the hell
was it his business anyway?
Maria sort of heard his question. It didn’t register at first. She was busy
with him, with his mouth, running her hands up his arms. God he felt
wonderful... really, really good! “Oh, lunch...I’ve got a date.” Maria
leaned in again to kiss him, when the firmness of his hands stopped her.
“Date?” Michael’s whole body stiffened. Date? None of his business. One
night in her bed hardly constituted a commitment, but a date? Michael tried to
convince himself that it was normal, that the sense of outrage was a normal
condition that any man would feel after having crawled out of her bed mere hours
ago and now hearing she was off dating some other man. This wasn’t jealousy,
nope just calm rational courtesy, and politeness.
Maria frowned at his keeping her from kissing him until her eyes lit on the skin
of his neck, the hollow at his shoulder blade and moving towards it she said,
“Yes with Janhie. He's a Professor at the Department, a sweet old man, my
favorite. I wish he wasn’t retiring soon.” Michael relaxed enough that Maria
was finally able to reach his neck, to run her mouth over his skin, to tongue
the hollow at this shoulder blade, and his moan made her want more. He was going
to ask about just how old, old Janhie was, but became distracted.
Michael pushed her hard up against the wall beside the door and putting his arm
around her waist to hold her tightly to him, his other hand in her hair and
curling around her neck, he brought her mouth back to his. He liked the sound
coming from her throat, the husky "Yes", as she wrapped an arm around
his neck and lifted up to get even closer to him even though there was no more
space. Part of him knew he needed to stop, that both of them needed to go to
work, but he wanted to stay just a little bit longer. Last night she helped him
more than he could say, and the need to thank her but not knowing how, confused
him.
When they pulled apart, Michael heard her voice, the sound reaching his ear, but
confusing the issue. She said the words that he could not. “Thank you.”
“What? What for?” Michael let her pull farther back so he could see her, and
her clear sincere eyes made him wish that he was a different man, a more open
one, because he liked how he could see her, understand her in ways he knew he
couldn’t let her see him.
“Kyle. Last night. Jim told me.” Maria took his head between her hands and
kissed him gently on the lips. “Thank you for risking your life to save him.
He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ve got right now, and I don’t want
to lose him. My own brother-he was...” Maria paused and for a second Michael
saw a shadow pass before her eyes, a memory she refused to let see the light of
day. “Just thank you. He and Sean, they’re family to me.”
Michael was shocked to hear her thanking him for what he considered one of the
monumental mistakes in his life. That bust had cost lives and for what? But all
Maria saw was the results, that Kyle was still alive, that he would survive, and
that was all that mattered. “Maria...” He had to tell her the truth, not let
her live under the illusion, but she just kissed him again.
“What time do you get off work?” It didn’t seem possible that one person,
a small slip of a girl could find so many ways to silence him, to so baffle him.
She never acted the way he expected, never said what he thought she would say,
and damn near never demanded anything of him but his body. In return she left
him sexually aroused, sated or momentarily satisfied, titillated, and amazed! So
when Michael stared at her in stony silence once again caught in some Maria web
of unknown origin, he didn’t let the confusion paralyze him.
“Why?” Michael continued to hold her, to press her between him and the wall
letting her feel his body in hopes she wouldn’t notice how unbalanced she made
him. Dammit, he had to win a few rounds with her!
“Well, I was just wondering. I’m coming back here after work to see Kyle and
check on Tess, and I was hoping you’d meet me.” Maria moved her hand up his
shirt to play with the buttons, and to pluck at the front. “I drove the GTO
this morning.” Maria looked up at him and said with a deadpan look and
complete honesty, “I felt good and wanted to feel some raw power under my
hands.” Her body rubbed up against his, pressing against the thickness that
had been making itself known to her since he pushed her against the wall.
Michael had no problem catching the double meaning. She was fearless, without
inhibition and shame. God he loved it, loved the raw honesty! “So, I was
thinking if you weren’t busy and didn’t have to work, maybe, just maybe you
would like to come with me to take the GTO out to the desert and give her some
room to run?” Michael’s heart sped up at the sensation of her rubbing hard
into him, the whole idea of feeling the roar of the car racing fast and furious
towards open roads, and Maria trapped under him in the wide comfortable bench
front seat of the GTO. God, they didn’t make cars like they used to!
Michael closed his eyes and moved his mouth along her beautiful graceful neck,
groaning into the soft skin. “Can I drive?” Maria heard Max walking down the
hall calling Michael’s name. Pushing him off her, she reached for the door to
lead them out of the stairwell.
With a wicked laugh, she started to walk through the door, and looked back.
“Get real! No way!” Looking down the hall she waved at Max. When Michael
came to a stop right next to her she whispered, “but I’ll let you drive in
other ways, and remember...” Maria leaned in to kiss him quickly before
releasing him as Max came up on them, “I swallow.”
Michael laughed noticeably at that. Outrageous as always, that was what she was,
and he said, “so do I.”
Maria kissed him quickly. “I know.” They stood looking at each other
breathing a little ragged as Max caught up to them. Maria smiled and turned to
talk to Max. “I guess you need the Detective back?”
Max looked from one to the other and gulped at the electricity and sexual heat
in the air. This was so different from anything he had ever seen, and Michael
barely seemed able to withstand the intensity. The man was sinking fast. Max
smiled to himself, because it was good to see, and a long time in coming.
“Sorry, Maria, I do need him back, as sorry a state as he's in, but we’re
needed downtown.” Max liked this woman a lot. She was special in ways that he
didn’t even know he could describe. “You ready to go, partner?” Max asked
Michael.
“Yeah.” Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a card passing it to
Maria. “This is my personal cell number. Call me when you get back here
tonight so I can let you know about the ride.” Michael smirked at the redness
on Maria’s cheeks as she looked down at the card. No-no she couldn’t be
embarrassed! Michael didn’t want to admit to being intrigued by the thought of
what it would take to embarrass Maria. When she looked up at him he saw that he
was mistaken. This wasn't embarrassment, but pure unadulterated lust! Michael
couldn’t take his eyes off her, stuck in the moment again. It was Max’s
clearing of his throat that made him look at his partner and frown, and quickly
looking back at Maria he had to know. “Are you still going if I can’t make
it?”
Maria smiled at him and walked past, patting him on the stomach. “Of course. I
want to blow out the cobwebs. This has been a rotten week--too stressful.”
Maria smiled at Max as she walked away. Suddenly a thought occurred to her as
she was leaving them, looking back at Michael she asked, “Hey, did you feed my
cat?”
********************************************************************************
Max and Michael had a full load on their plate for the day. Checking up on Chris
Delaney and his past and possible connections, interviews with people who knew
him, and six of their other cases needed attention. Though both Michael and Max
knew that the Delaney murder wasn’t an act of revenge or personal vendetta,
they still had to check out all possibilities and until a motive became clear.
“Have you heard from Parker yet?” Michael asked Max. Liz was the senior
investigator on the Forensics team working on the Museum material, so she was
the person who was supposed to report to them, the primary investigating team.
“No. Maybe we should swing by later today to see how it’s progressing. I
think Maria mentioned that they were closing down on Friday to attend
Delaney’s funeral.” Michael became quiet and thoughtful. Both he and Max
would also attend the funeral, and then another one in a few days for Officer
James Wilson, rookie cop barely twenty years old. He left parents, brothers and
sisters, and a fiancée. Max looked over at Michael and knew what he was
thinking about. “Your dress blues clean?” Michael nodded. He had them
cleaned the last time he wore them, the last funeral he attended--Jack Hardy.
The drove in silence for a few moments with Michael watching the scenery pass,
hardly aware that he was still thinking about Maria. She was like a puzzle, an
enigma in his life. Even though he hardly knew her, she seemed closer to him
than even Max and Isabel, and that was just wrong. It was her eyes, the way she
quickly saw everything, then making an instinctive guess, she suddenly knew a
person or understood something about them. They had only spoken for a few
moments, a few times, and most of the time was about murder, and yet he felt he
knew her, knew about her.
“Michael, about Maria...” Max never finished as Michael cut him off.
“None of your business, Maxwell.” Michael swore under his breath. Did the
woman worm her way into every man’s thoughts?
“Understood.” Max was quiet for a moment, but couldn’t let it go. “I
just wanted to say that I like her, I really like her a lot.”
“I like her a lot, too.” Michael said quietly.
Max sighed. Michael was giving small concise responses, putting up "Do Not
Trespass" signs everywhere. “I don’t want to live through seeing her
crushed under you.”
“Understood.” Michael continued to look out the window as they finally
pulled into the PD garage. He didn’t want to crush Maria under his boots
either, or hurt her. The though of her being hurt by him bothered him, bothered
him more than such a prospect ever bothered him before.
He was always honest in his affairs. He never made promises he couldn’t keep,
or gave the impression that he’d stay forever. But in just two days of knowing
this woman he was running scared, really worried that for the first time in his
life he was the one who was going to be crushed, that he was the one who would
want more. Because this was something he never expected to find or feel, it was
leaving him unbalanced. He kept wanting to use her cruelly, to shake her awake,
say, "This is me! This is what I am!" But then in horror he watched as
his arms reached for her, cuddled her close, protected her, and turned to her
for comfort. His body was being invaded by an alien, a stranger.
********************************************************************************
Maria finally made it back to her office after leaving the hospital. Before she
left, she had detoured to the Family Med Clinic to look through their brochures
about fertility, birth control, and other pamphlets about family planning. Since
there were no pamphlets on how to avoid becoming pregnant by a tall, strong,
wildly sexy pissy Detective whose sperm looked as though they could impregnate
at twenty paces, she took everything they had and stopped at the drug store to
pick up her prescription and much needed precautionary supplies.
Maria stopped to talk to Cheryl and check on her classes that were not only
given a Reading Day today, but were dismissed tomorrow so she could attend Chris
Delaney’s funeral. Her messages were in their usual abundance, so taking them
with her with some coffee, Maria went to work. She cleared most of the stuff by
almost noon, and picking up the phone called over to Professor Kovitch’s
office to see if he was ready for lunch. Janhie loved the faculty dining room,
so Maria quickly was scanning her menu sheet they sent out every week while the
phone rang. Frowning at the phone when it kept ringing, Maria heard the clicking
of the operator exchange system forwarding her call to the secretary’s office.
“Hey, Meg? This is Maria. I was calling to take Professor Kovitch to lunch
today. We had a date. Did he leave without me?” Maria waited and listened to
Meg, Janhie’s secretary explain how Professor Kovitch never came in today.
After hanging up Maria thought about it for a few moments. This disturbed her.
Professor Janhie Kovitch hadn’t missed a day of work in over forty years.
Worried because of the warning he gave her the day before and the
uncharacteristic absence, Maria reluctantly dug through her bag for the card
Michael gave her that morning. Maria bit her lip for a moment, and finally
reached for the phone. The worst could happen was he’d think she was a
hysterical female, and tell her not to worry, or check it out herself.
“Guerin.” She smiled at his pissy, rough voice. Maria was beginning to
suspect that Michael had a hate relationship going with his cellular, that it
rang when he was busy, or perhaps otherwise engaged.
“Hi, am I interrupting you in the middle of someone? Yeah, got the blackjack
out slapping around a suspect or just terrorizing a witness, Copper?” Maria
didn’t even bother to identify herself. The sound of his rough voice made her
breath shudder in her throat, so the least he could do was pretend she affected
him too.
“Yeah, you’re always interrupting something Professor, but I'm beginning to
believe you live to do that.” Maria laughed at the smile in his voice, the
almost sarcastic drawl. “What can I do for you, Maria?”
Maria’s heart sped up as she thought about it for a second. “Dammit,
Detective, I called about something serious and you’ve got me wanting to make
lewd and erotic suggestions to you on the phone. Okay, you’ll have to be
denied a lewd and lascivious call until later, preferably when I am lying in bed
all fresh from the shower, naked, and lonely...” Maria smiled to herself at
the audible gulp and groan on the other line. Hmm, Detective Guerin might have
to chase her down and arrest her for illegal activities after all! Suddenly
Maria’s voice went serious with all the teasing gone. “Michael, I really
have a problem, or a concern, and I am hoping you will tell me that I’m just
being an alarmist.”
Michael sat up straighter and his demeanor took on a more serious posture. Max
who was chuckling at hearing Michael’s side of the conversation, and watching
Michael react to whatever Maria was saying. Max thought it was revealing that it
had barely been an hour and a half since Maria left them and she was already
calling propositioning Michael on the phone. But suddenly this was different.
Michael listened and took down information, asking Maria a few questions, and
then told her he would check it out and get back to her.
“What is it, Michael?” Max was worried, as Michael quickly dialed a number
and sent a black and white unit to check out an address.
“Maria was supposed to have lunch with an old professor in her department. He
never came to work today or called. Not even his secretary knows where he is.”
Michael moved stuff around on his desk, and searched for the Delaney file. Nope,
Professor Kovitch wasn’t on their list of people to question. “The thing is
he is old, retiring old, and maybe he had an accident or heart attack last
night. I’m having a unit check out his home, look for his car, and if the car
isn’t at his house, check out the University parking lot.”
Max’s interested piqued at this much concern over one missing professor. “Is
there a reason to chase this man down? Is he part of our investigation?”
Michael scratched his brow above his right eye and leaned back in his chair
looking at Max. “The thing is that Maria is concerned, and I’m learning to
respect her instincts. But she also told me that Professor Kovitch helped her
and the others out at the museum yesterday. When he was leaving he demanded she
have lunch with him today, and told her that she must never be alone, and that
he had things to tell her, things she needed to know.”
Max sat up even straighter. “He gave her a warning? A warning that she was in
danger?”
“Something like that. But with everything going on it made Maria even more
concerned when the professor showed up missing.” Michael stood to take some
reports from a clerk heading to their work area. “Maria said that the
professor has never missed a day of work, not in forty years.” Michael looked
over at his partner as he passed him part of their work files and returned lab
reports. Max’s eyes took on the same glint of concern and seriousness that
Michael’s had.
It was almost an hour before they received a report. Michael listened to the
information, and then told the officers to wait on site until he arrived. Max
stood up and was putting on his jacket when he heard Michael’s request.
“The Professor?”
“Yeah.” Michael grabbed his jacket too and stopped to quickly report to
Valenti that they needed to check something out at the University. “The
Professor never came home last night according to his neighbor, his morning
paper wasn’t brought in, and his cat was outside. The unit checked his license
tags and found his car still parked at the University staff lot. They went to
his offices, but no one has answered. They're waiting for us to proceed.”
Max knew what Michael was expecting to find, and with the warning to Maria he
was cautious about letting anyone enter another possible crime scene before him.
They quickly made the run to the University, and Michael called the Anthropology
Department to find Maria. She was already over at the Museum working, so Michael
didn’t bother to call her. He didn’t want her anywhere near the Anthropology
Department. The officers were waiting in their unit when they arrived, getting
out to follow them into the building.
The Professor’s secretary was happy to open up the Professor’s offices since
she too was concerned at his absence. It was her horrified gasp as she opened
the language lab’s door that had Max reaching in and pulling her back out of
the doorway. Michael walked in and swore, not even bothering to pass Max a
dollar. Professor Kovitch’s life was drained out on his beloved manuscript
with his throat cut clean across.
Max took the secretary, Meg away to calm her down and the officers were ordered
to secure the floor, mark off the halls on either side, and check out the rest
of the offices on the third floor. Michael called in support teams and reported
to Captain Valenti, who also became silent. Finally, standing in the doorway,
Michael called over to the Museum.
“Museum of Horror? If it used to talk or walk, we’d love it...” Michael
heard the cheerful voice of a man with laughing in the background.
“I need to talk to Professor DeLuca.”
“Sure thing, hold on.” Michael waited as he heard the young man calling out
for Maria, some laughter and finally Maria.
“Hello?” She sounded happy, like she was busy doing what she loved with
people she liked and nothing could touch her, but he knew that was going to
change.
“It’s Michael.” Michael could almost hear her body bristling at the sound
of his voice, the lack of emotion, and the cold biting tone telling her that
something was wrong, that her concerns had some validation. “I need you to
listen to me carefully. I want you to go, right now, get in your car and drive
home! Stay there until I come. Do not go to your office, or stop for any reason!
Do you understand Maria?”
He could hear her breath catching, and the sounds from her were small and
cracking. She didn’t ask, because she knew he didn’t have time to tell her.
“Yes, I’m leaving now.” Michael sighed a sense of relief as she hung up
the phone. Looking at the executed body of Kovitch, all he knew was whatever the
Professor knew was never shared with Maria, but whoever the killer was didn’t
know that, and if the Professor thought Maria was in danger then that was enough
to remove her from harm's way.
Max came back and watched Michael silently as he disconnected the phone.
“Maria?”
“I sent her home. She doesn’t need to be here or around for this.” Both
Michael and Max went into the room and circled the corpse, careful not to
disturb the scene, keeping it intact for the forensic team. Whoever did this
entered the room behind the Professor, either very quietly taking him by
surprise, or the Professor was expecting them. There were no signs of struggle
or any indication that he was startled. It appeared as if he accepted death and
waited quietly. “This is wrong, something here is very wrong.”
Max silently watched as Michael circled the table again and again. This was what
made Michael who he was, what made Michael the better detective, the senior
partner. He had a sixth sense about events, about how they occurred. It was if
he could see the results, and was able to picture in his head what happened,
what events had to occur to lead up to this final results. It wasn’t magical
or even supernatural. It was just Michael almost as if he had lived a thousand
lives and watched a thousand deaths, and he understood what death looked like in
its many forms as it was met. Every crime scene seemed to awaken a deeper
understanding, a long forgotten memory in Michael, and in that memory was the
knowledge of how it had to have been done.
“The killer entered from the doorway, silently, but not trying to be silent.
The professor knew that it was coming. He waited patiently for death. Look at
his hands, Max. They're folded, almost in prayer, waiting. The killer had to
pull the head back to slit the throat, and he didn’t struggle or even try to
get away. He knew his killer, and knew that he was going to die.” Max looked
at the scene, seeing it the way Michael did, and for once the gravity of the
situation hit him. “Do you think the killer knew he was going to talk to
Maria?”
“I think the killer knew that the professor outlived his usefulness, that he
wasn’t necessary, and was actually a threat.” Michael still circled,
stopping to crouch down to see a different angle to the table, to look under it,
to understand what was eluding him. “The blood.” Max looked at Michael
sharply, and then back at the table covered in blood. It was congealed and it
covered the manuscript, and puddled out from where the professor’s head rested
in death.
“What about the blood? It seems pretty gruesome to me.” Death was a strange
thing, it was frightening and offensive at the same time. It robbed the dead of
their dignity and demanded that the injustice be served.
“No, it’s not enough.” Michael said absentmindedly. His voice was cold and
emotionless almost originating from somewhere else. Max looked at the table and
couldn’t imagine that this blood was less than it should be, because this
scene looked nothing short of a slaughterhouse. “There should be more, a lot
more. And his shirt is open at the front.” Michael looked around wanting the
forensic people here to record the scene so he could turn the body to see the
front.
“Michael.” Both Michael and Max turned from where they stood patiently
waiting for the crime lab boys to record and gather physical evidence from the
scene. Cassie was there in the thick of it, or she would’ve been, but Michael
sent her to help keep the police lines firm and talk to the University Security.
Liz Parker had arrived from the Museum with Cassie and was talking to the poor
distraught secretary and the students who were concerned about the professor.
Finally she made her way towards them, stopping as she passed the door to gasp.
It was the first time she had really seen a crime scene, and had smelled the
smell. Her job has primarily laboratory, working the physical evidence in the
lab. This was a job she usually left the CS Investigators.
“Liz?” Michael was surprised that Liz called him by his first name. Usually
it was Detective or Guerin, and after two years of knowing her, sort of, finally
she took liberties.
“I made sure Maria made it home okay. She just called a few moments ago.”
Liz was surprised how worried she was over Michael knowing that, and even more
surprised that Maria made her think of Michael as "Michael", and not
"Guerin".
Michael looked blank at the information, and then suddenly shocked, and then
suddenly grateful. It was like the crime scene took control of him, pushing all
noises and other thoughts into the background. But for the first time, as he
searched and investigated the scene all he could think of was what unholy mess
Maria DeLuca was embroiled in? It was shocking to realize how much he needed
Liz’s information about Maria, how relieved he felt, and how much Maria
refused to be ignored, taking up space in his mind. “Thank you, Liz.”
Michael suddenly walked away as he noticed Simon waving for his attention from
across the room. “Excuse me.”
Liz was stunned, so much so that she didn’t even notice that Max standing next
to her shared the same blank stare of amazement. Michael Guerin thanked her,
really thanked her, and then called her by her real name, and then politely
excusing himself! It was an uncommon thing, almost unheard of by either of them.
Michael never apologized or was overly polite, not to anyone. Not even Max and
Isabel. It wasn’t that he lacked manners as much as he didn’t exert them
much, because he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Max looked at Liz, seeing the trembling of her hands, the paleness of her face.
It was already early afternoon, and it looked like Michael and Simon and the lab
boys were ready to turn the body. “Liz, you don’t need to be here for
this.” Liz looked at him and a stubborn look came over her face. She was a cop
too, dammit! Granted a lab specialist, but she still had much the same police
training as they did.
Max knew he made a mistake to insinuate that she was unable to handle this much
reality. Suddenly it looked like he was going to rise up some notches on her
list for insensitive men. “I’ve got a more important task I need you to
do.” Max saw her eyes narrow and her back stiffen as she prepared herself to
feel insulted. “I need you to go to this address. It’s Maria’s. We need
someone to go stay with her, to protect her until we can come.” Max saw Liz
relax and become more attentive. “The Professor told her yesterday that she
should never be alone, and he was going to have lunch with her today, to tell
her things. Considering this, I think both Michael and I would be happier
knowing she’s not alone.”
Liz looked at Max. It was hard for her to look him in the face at times, but she
did it anyway. He seemed sincere enough. “Okay, I’ll do it. Will you call
when you’re on your way over?” Max nodded and then watched her leave the
scene. He noticed Cassie watching Liz with narrowed eyes.
It wasn’t hard to understand the jealousy that Cassie felt towards Liz Parker
because Liz was obviously smarter and more accepted. But the jealousy took a new
twist when not only did Michael seem to accept Liz on the scene, but he assigned
Liz the job of head forensic investigator. Max just shook his head and returned
to his partner’s side. The forensic department had to be a real chuckle fest
with all that competition.
“What've we got, Michael?” Max asked his partner who was squatting down by
the now turned body. Michael, wearing latex gloves and using forceps, lifted the
open shirt away from the body. There was a roughly etched design on the chest.
Michael stood up and let the photographer record it.
Simon looked at Guerin in admiration. How did he know that there would be more
to the scene than a sliced neck? “I’ll let you know as soon as I can about
the blood, Michael. Offhand, I think you’re correct. The amount of blood looks
to be a pint low. No bloody footsteps, so no prints to record. The cut in the
skin appears to have been done with a knife. A sharp knife. More than likely the
same knife that cut the throat.”
Michael nodded. “The killer was cautious and knowledgeable about not leaving
evidence.”
Max frowned at Michael. “Why do you say that?”
Michael waved at Simon and motioned for Max to follow. “The cut was done
post-mortem, so that means they avoided the dripping blood on purpose, and took
the time to collect and take away a pint of blood.”
“How do you know? How do you know the cut was done after the Professor died?
There was so much blood covering his chest.” Max wished he could have the
knowledge that Michael seemed to just know, but other times he preferred to
remain as he was. Michael ability to relive a crime or reconstruct it was part
of his problem, part of the reason he lived his life alone. Michael didn’t
like being touched, being vulnerable.
“Most of the blood soaked through the shirt from where he rested in the blood
on the table, but the crusted blood around the incision suggests that it
didn’t bleed much. That means...”
“He was already dead when the killer cut into him.” Michael just nodded yes.
Michael pulled off his latex gloves and tossed them in a trash as he left the
scene. Seeing Cassie still there he swore outloud, and looking at Max, sighed
and dug out a dollar. Max didn’t bother to mention the few other dollars
Michael owed him, because after seeing the scene, cussing and profanity seemed
justified.
“Welsh.” Cassie turned and scowled at Michael. He was starting to really
piss her off. “I need you to take over the primary site for the rest of the
day, keep the others working, and shutting it up for the night. Professor DeLuca
won’t be back until Saturday at the earliest, and Parker will be back in the
morning.” Michael winced at the pleased triumphant look in Cassie’s eyes.
“This is just for the remainder of the day. If you don’t think you can
handle this let me know now and I'll find someone else.”
“No, I can do it, Michael.” Max saw Michael’s jaw muscles tighten at the
use of his name by her. “I’ll report anything we find to Liz in the
morning.”
“Good.” And without saying goodbye or anything Michael took off confident
that Max would follow close behind.
“That was nice of you,” Michael looked at Max with his head to one side and
a questioning brow raised, “letting her primary the museum investigation, even
if it’s only for this evening.”
“There was nothing nice about it. You sent Parker to look after Maria,
correct?” Max nodded. “Then there was no one else on hand that could do it,
except her. Let’s hope she doesn’t screw it up.” Michael snorted his
disbelief that Cassie Welsh could do little but f*ck up. Max laughed to himself
as they got into the car. For a second he thought Maria DeLuca had changed his
partner into a nice caring human in just forty-eight hours. But nope, Mr.
Sensitivity was still alive and kicking in Roswell, USA.
****************************************************************************

