Switchback

By DocPaul

Sequel: Switched

Email: DocPaul2002@yahoo.ca

Rating: NC-17….very.

Spoiler: After Panacea and before Graduation.

Warning: Some of the sex is questionable.

Disclaimers: M&M and Rath belong to somebody who forgot them on a shelf. I play with them.

Summary: After Michael and Maria return from New York City , life in Roswell remains anything but normal, and just when it couldn’t get any stranger, they have a visitor collecting on a debt.

Author’s note:  This story is a fast down and dirty story, originally unbeta’d. It will be beta’d after it is completed. Because it is Rath……it is definitely much more graphic sex. There is a plot……sure there is! Thanks to Diane who braved this story to get it beta’d.

 

 

Switchback

For Cindy and Vin, and Rath lovers.

 

 

Chapter One

 

New York City in the Spring…

 

“Yo!”

Shellie put her bags down and frowned at her boyfriend. Yo? “Yo? How about a nice, hi, honey. How was your day?”

“That’s what ‘yo’ means.” Rath went to search through the bags. “Ya get any of that cream shit I like?”

“Gosh? Would I forget that?” Shellie rolled her eyes. Handing him his favorite treats, she started to put away the groceries.

“What?” Rath frowned. This relationship crap was a dick limper. She seemed angry at him at the strangest of times.

“What?” Shellie looked around her apartment. Everything was in chaos, tossed about, and unclean. “You said you would pick up today.”

“I did.” Rath looked around. It looked pretty good to him.

“Uh huh.” Shellie looked upset. The place was a nightmare. In the almost six weeks that he moved in with her the place had taken a turn for the worst. “This is clean to you?”

“What? Looks great.” Shellie sighed. Yeah, great. “Shell, wazzup? Why ya givin’ me the gas face?”

“I’m not.” Shellie turned and looked at him. Sighing, she smiled anyway despite herself. He was so damn cute, and clueless. “Really, I’m not giving you a dirty look. But, I told you. My parents are coming for dinner tomorrow. The place isn’t up to snuff, and I can’t talk you out of the piercings and leather.”

“I ain’t no pony boy.”

Shellie ran her hand up his front. “I know. I’m not trying to remake you. Really, I’m not, but my dad’s a lawyer, and my mother a doctor. They won’t understand you, and they move in a different world.”

“Ya move in a different style, too. Ya understand me.”

Shellie nodded and picked up a garbage can. Moving around the room, she started picking up trash, empty bottles, sandwich wrappers, and assorted other garbage. “I understand you fine. I don’t want my parents to think less of you. I want them to give you a fair chance, and first impressions are hard to come back from. You know?” Shellie stopped and looked at him. “We on the same page, Boo?”

Rath frowned, but hooked an arm around her neck and drew her close. “Yeah. I’m hearing. I’ll…try, okay? I could bail, if ya want.”

Shellie put her arms around his neck. “They were coming to meet you. That was the purpose.”

Rath frowned. This was new ground. A relationship. Lonnie was just fucking. A sort of fucked up destiny that was for crap. Hardly what he would call a relationship. Shellie was different. She seemed to want him around. She was nice to him. Her place was nice, clean and comfortable. He still went out. He still messed around. Occasionally, he saw Lonnie. But, at night, he came home to Shellie. She was soft. Accommodating. Sexy. She never complained about anything he wanted. Perhaps she was sexually addicted to him. He didn’t care as long as it kept him fed and dry. Definitely a step up from the sewer and Lonnie.

“I’m here.” Rath said. What more was there to do?

He was there. He was trying. Shellie wasn’t in any way convinced that he was faithful to just her. While she was gone to school everyday he was out doing things, seeing people, and what else she was uncertain. One thing for certain, it wasn’t working. Or at least not conventionally.

Shellie smiled. Moving her hand up his face, she stroked his cheek. “Yeah, you are here. I need to clean, but I can fix us something to eat first. You hungry?”

Rath laughed and flashed his charming smile at her. “I could eat. I think I’ll start with ya.”

Shellie laughed as he tackled her to the ground, his heavy weight pushing on her. Breathless, she felt her clothes melt away as his mouth and hands seemed everywhere at once. Rath. He wasn’t what she considered a nice boyfriend. Shocking how much she liked not so nice, not so conventional, and very dirty. There was an edge where kinky, sexy and daring, pain and violence blended into a shade of gray. Rath seemed to push all the boundaries. He was capable of being mean and crass, and at times sweet and gentle.

“Rath.”

“Lets take a shower.” Shellie smiled at that. Best improvement, Rath liked showering with a little incentive. Rath pulled her nude body after him, and almost in a blink he was out of his clothing and in the shower.

"You sure you want company?" Shellie asked trying to keep her voice steady and light, knowing it wasn't working. Rath’s arm reached out and pulled her into the shower roughly.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I’ve got this swelling..." he trailed off, grinning as Shellie yelped at the sting of the hot water hitting her skin.

"Swelling? But…" Shellie broke off when Rath indicated a fully erect cock. "Gotcha," she breathed, as Rath pulled her closer rubbing suggestively against her.

Hot water ran over them, cool in comparison to the temperature of their skin as their lips met. She would’ve kept kissing him, but he had other ideas. He was jacking his own flesh, and grabbing her slender hand, he wrapped her hot fingers around his rapidly swelling cock, throwing all other thoughts aside. His other hand forced her to her knees in front of him under the pounding of the hot water.

“Rath…”

He didn’t wait for her. She talked too much anyway. Forcing her mouth open, he shoved himself inside, and went to work, forcing her to suck him off. He didn’t want to waste too much time. He had plans. Plans involving her.

"Oh, god," Rath groaned as the hot mouth slid down him, drawing him in. She wasn’t such a bad bitch. She gave a good amount of head. Not as good as Lonnie, but then Lonnie was a lifetime experienced cumsucker. Shellie was up on Lonnie in that he never worried about becoming diseased from her, or murdered by the bitch biting off his dick.

He moaned in time to the sucking, thrusting his hips gently. Shellie's fingers caressed his ass, kneading, squeezing, and rubbing. God, she knew how he liked it. One finger slid down his crack, rubbing over his hole. He moaned and pressed back against the finger, then pushed forward into the waiting mouth. Oh, god, he'd died and gone to heaven. The finger thrust into him, a gentle rhythm in time with the sucking mouth covering his dick. Shellie pulled away slightly to lick at his shaft, nipping lightly at the base with her lips before moving lower to suck first one ball, then the other into her mouth. Rath growled as she sucked his balls, sure that he was going to die from the delicious torture. The finger in his ass began moving faster, soon a second was added. Shellie rubbed across his prostate and Rath howled as the pleasure knifed through him. That hot mouth engulfed his aching cock once again, and he gave a scream that bounced off the tile as his orgasm thundered through him.

"Jesus," he muttered, when he could talk again. "Yah’re one fucking hot, slut."

"You're classy as ever," Shellie licked her lips, her jaw a little sore from the pressure he used on her. The she leaned over to switch the water off. The temperature had turned cold long before either had noticed, but now it was a little chilly.

Rath felt his blood surging again as he watched her wantonly push her ass toward him and he gave a low growl as he pulled Shellie into a rough embrace, his own tongue parting lips that opened willingly for him.

He could taste himself in her mouth. It was so incredible, that something like that could get him so hot again...he shuddered as the pleasure flooded through him.

"Want yah, baby," he muttered against Shellie's mouth. Sweet talk always got him into her ass or cunt without much effort. His hand grabbed her generous seat and pulled her up hard into his rapidly refilling groin as his fingers probed her tight hole, as his lips slid down to graze a cheekbone, continuing lower toward throat and neck. "Need to ream yar ass...hafta have yah..." His lips found an earlobe and he suckled briefly before scoring it gently with his teeth. He moved his mouth up to rim the outer edge of the ear, then headed back down. "Turn the water back on."

Shellie did as he requested, and he came up close behind her, pushing her hard into the cold tile. His one hand went down to bury itself into her cunt, already wet and needy as his other hand went around her mouth keeping her from screaming too loud as he pushed himself into her ass. Hard. Long, deep strokes with powerful grunts. His one hand working her over as her one hand came out to brace herself against the tile, and the other reached up above their heads to hold on tight to the edge of the glass door. She bit his hand, as he finished off in her, and released her to let her slide to the shower floor.

“Yah okay, Shell?”

Shellie groaned and reached up and pulled him down on the floor with her. Rath laughed.

 

~~~

 

“We didn’t have to come.” Shellie looked at the noisy party. Staring down at her clothing, she grimaced. She was in need of major therapy! She let Rath pick her clothing. He put her in a micro-mini that rode low on her hips, and barely covered her ass, and she was bare underneath. Her shirt was worse. It was a haltered nylon mesh shirt meant to be worn with a black bra, but she was bare breasted. It stopped short of her naval. The tattoo on her arm matching one of Rath’s was barely healed, and she was wearing six inch spikes. She should’ve known better than making a bet with Rath. Any fool knew that he cheated.

“Yor friends. Yor party. Wazzup?”

“I’m dressed like a street walker, not a graduating senior, and soon to be entering law school.” Insanity! It must run in her family. She was involved with a man…boy over three years younger than her, unemployed, uneducated with a taste for rough sex and domination.

“Stop bitchin’. Lets partah.”

“Rath, you don’t even drink. These parties are all about drinking.”

Rath crowded her. “Chill, Shell. Lets tease the straights. Be good, and I’ll do you later.” He slapped her ass hard. Shellie licked her lips. She was sick. Real sick. Rath leaned in biting her neck hard. “I’ll give ya a real good spankin’.”

Shellie looked around nervously, gulping. Her hand roamed down his tight leathered front. “Caning?”

“Mmmm.” Rath smiled evilly in her eyes. Shellie smiled back. Maybe it was her upper middle class conservative upbringing, but she actually liked a little pain, and sometimes, a lot. Rath was always willing to accommodate. She hadn’t even known she liked it rough until she met him, and over the last six weeks he took her places that she would’ve never dared dream of going.

Rath wasn’t the perfect boyfriend. Far from it. He was a dog. He was rude. He was uneducated. He was most of the time unclean. She pretty much suspected that he would sling his dick around in any hole that offered him access, but she was the only one he came home to, so she took him as he was. He was basically…perfect.

“So she brought you again.” Rath turned to find that Shellie had went off to find them drinks. A classmate of Shell’s….Jane? GI Jane. A friend? Rath didn’t like her. She was a crank faced biggie with her mouth skewed towards carpet munching. He suspected she was weeding for his pussy. “What the hell does she see in a retard, pierced reject like you.”

Dark room. Back wall. Rath’s eyes narrowed. “Yah really want to know, fat-ass bizatch?” Rath moved in on her threateningly. “I’m more than a little som'em som'em.” Rath pushed her hard against the wall, his hand going up her skirt. Her puffy clam hadn’t been touched in this lifetime. Rath smiled nastily. He could take care of that.

“Stop it!” She tried to push him off. Rath laughed and kissed her. Worked every time. The lesbo rat patrol was squirming in his arms trying to climb up his body. Working his way into her undies, he swore at their nastiness. Large ugly white ones. With a wave, they were gone. “Stop!” Rath shrugged and pulled away, but fugly Jane the Plain, pulled him back again. Always a gentleman, he gave her a quick taste. Didn’t take long. He pushed his dick in, and was there for a few breathers, and then was gone. Didn’t even take the edge off. Now his pants were too tight. Where the hell was Shell?

Rath sliced through the crowds making faces at the amount of yuppie larva hanging off him. He never bothered to look back at the pile of Jane he left in his wake.

“Hey!” Shellie. Rath noticed why she took so long. She was surrounded by college bovah flies, swarming around her, checking out her rack through the nylon mesh. Coming up behind her, Rath moved his hands up her front under the tight top and covered her tits while sucking on her neck. Whispering hotly in her ear, he quickly led her away sneering at the losers they left behind. Yeah they could view the goods, but she belonged to him.

“Hey,” Shellie looped her arms around his neck, as he danced them backwards through the crowd. “Where’ve yah been, Boo?”

“Fucking ugly Jane. Not really. Just dickin’ her up her lesbian snatch.” Shellie’s eyebrow went up.

Shellie stepped back from him, her hands on her hips. “You better be lying, Rath.”

Rath pulled her back. “I don’t lie to yah, Shell. She came on tah me, wanna tah knows what I got to keep yah spreadin’ yor legs. I gave her a little taste.” Rath kissed the side of her neck. “Diddin’ even shoot spunk.”

Shellie pushed him off her again. “Why do I put up with you?!”

Rath pulled her back harshly. “Cause yah luv me. I spank yor hot ass, then fuck you up it until yah scream. Yor hot cunt begs for me. ‘Cause I save all my cum for yah. Only yah.” Rath grabbed her arms and pulled them around her back. “Yah know, I’m a one ho man.”

“Tell me that later when Jane starts hanging around our place wanting a repeat.”

Rath suddenly looked uncomfortable. Pulling at his tight black tee, he looked around. “Naw! No way!” His eyes darted around. “No?”

Shellie’s eyes narrowed, and then she sighed. He really was clueless. His idea of faithful was a far end spectrum from hers, but he was learning. He was trying. He had a hard time separating love from sex, and most of the time sex was just something to do. Love meant she put up with his shit, and for him, that he came home to her.

“Rath…”

“Don’t be mad. I’ll do anything ya want.” Rath grabbed her ass hard and grinded her into his loins. “I’ll play nice for yor parents. I’ll even take out the piercings. Talk…normal.” Whatever the hell normal was, but the concession seemed to make her happy.

“I don’t want to change you.” Shellie said softly wiping a little moisture from her eyes. “I just prefer you not to shove your dick into other women…..men, or whatever while you’re with me.”

Rath frowned. “That’s all?” Hell, no problem. It wasn’t like he was getting off anyway. Just frustrated, then he had to find Shellie to take off the edge. For a second, he wondered if all relationships were that difficult to understand. His thoughts turned to his dupe, Michael. If he could figure it out, then so could Rath.

“It’s a good start.” Rath shrugged. Sure. Why the hell not? If it became a problem, then he would tell her.

“Lets dance.” Rath moved her closer to him, backing her up off the dance floor. Shellie laughed. Rath’s idea of dancing usually meant a horizontal mambo resulting in his dick embedded somewhere.

Rath tightened his hands on Shellie's ass and pulled her hard against his body. There was a wall behind them. They were near the back of the open area on the far side of the dance floor. He opened his eyes to sight it, never removing his mouth from Shellie's, and half-carried, half-dragged her, pinning her against it with his weight. He released Shellie's mouth, dragging his tongue across her soft cheek and then down, licking a trail from the swollen lips to the nipples he could see through the mesh shirt.

Rath heard a groan above him as he latched onto one through the shirt and tugged gently with his teeth. He worried at it for a moment, sucking and biting, enticing gasps of pain and pleasure from his partner. When it was swollen and throbbing with heat he switched to the other nipple, tonguing carefully, tasting the metallic bite of gold against the sweeter taste of Shellie. She had her nipple pierced since he met her. Hands cradled his head, clutching on to him, holding him close to the tempting flesh. She responded well to him. He turned his head and nipped at those hands, swirling his tongue suggestively over the thumb. Brown met blue as he did so, both sets of eyes dark and hot.

Shellie's eyes widened and darkened further when Rath continued downward, sliding to his knees before her. Rath rubbed his cheek against the long silky length of her thigh  and the junction area concealed behind hot leather, felt it pulse against his skin. His own cock, swollen and achingly hard in his jeans, throbbed in response. He nuzzled for a moment longer, smelling the unmistakable scent of semen. Though she showered before they came out, she still smelled of him. Rath groaned as he breathed in the heat and arousal of Shellie. His tongue darted out and ran up the tender length of her thigh. He could see the bruises he had left on her, and he heard Shellie's low moan of lust. He loved how she forgot to care where they were. Since that first time he met her at the bar.

Rath surged to his feet and grabbed two handfuls of silky blonde hair, yanking Shellie's head back, tilting it up. He took her mouth in a voracious, sucking kiss, drawing Shellie's tongue as far into his own mouth as he could. He felt Shellie's knee thrust between his legs, bringing them closer still, hungry hands scrabbling at his waist to release the top button. He shifted so he could rub his aching dick hard against her smaller body, moving against the hand that was reaching to pet him.

Shellie tore her mouth away, gasping. "Rath! Oh, god, Rath..."

"What, baby?" he panted, trying to draw air into lungs that seemed to have forgotten how to work.

"It's so good...so good..."

"Yeah," he growled before delving back into the dark sweetness of Shellie's mouth. He plunged his tongue in and out, fucking the soft hot mouth rapidly, hands wandering at will. Shellie's hands were busy kneading and squeezing his ass, rubbing against the seam that was tormenting his cleft, and he pushed his ass back against those hands, seeking their touch.

He was ready to take her right there, right then.

Reluctantly Rath dragged his mouth away from her, observing the swollen lips, heaving chest, and hearing the pounding heartbeat. Her nipples were erect and pressing against the nylon mesh. He leaned in to nuzzle at Shellie's ear, rimming the outer edge before whispering, "I hafta have ya, Shellie. I wanna bury my cock inside yah and fuck yah 'til yah scream."

A raspy voice moaned, "God, yes."

"Upstairs?"

A hesitant nod. "Are you sure? Rath, this is…."

"I won't make it home, Shellie. I need yah, now. No one’s gonna care, anyone up there's doing the same thing." Rath drew Shellie's hand down to his raging hard-on. "I want yah, my fuckin’ beautiful bitch. Gotta have yah."

"Yes...." Shellie breathed. "Let's go."

They skirted the outer edge of the dance floor to the staircase that led to the 'observation' area above that overlooked the downstairs. Aroused as they were the trip up the stairs was awkward and painful, but they both knew what they getting when they got there. Shellie followed Rath and twice trailed her fingers up and down the seam of Rath's jeans where it defined the curve of his ass. Rath threw a look over his shoulder the second time, eyes smoldering with barely banked heat and growled, "Tease."

The wanton look on Shellie's face only fueled the fire now raging out of control.

A few people were leaning against the railing watching the partiers below. The University fraternity house was a hotbed of wild mating, drugs and drinking. A quick check from Rath and he quickly harassed others in the darkened room to beat it.

Room wasn't even quite right…not totally. It wasn’t a large enough area, but rather an upper landing circling the lower floor with strategic sofas placed along the way. The members of the house sponsoring the party had placed low lights and candles in the darkened upstairs area. They could’ve found an empty bedroom or kicked out others using one, but Rath liked the open area. The public display.

Rath steered them toward a couch that was easily seen from all views and much of downstairs, turning as he touched the couch, pulling Shellie back into his arms. Their lips met and fused, tongues tangling in hunger, desperate for the taste of each other.

Rath tugged on Shellie's arms and she raised them to encircle Rath's neck, exposing a large patch of bare midriff as her shirt rose up. He slid his hands up under it, stroking the smooth skin and firm muscle, feeling the ripples and twitches his touch generated. Shellie's hands got busy working on the buttons of Rath's leather pants, rubbing the straining cock that was outlined against the worn leather. Rath groaned against Shellie's mouth as those incredible fingers delved in and freed his cock, warm skin on his heated flesh, cool air rushing against him. A thumb smoothed over the tip, probing at the tiny fissure, spreading the pre-cum that had already leaked out.

"Yeah, touch me like that....just like that, Shellie..."

"Like me touching you?" Shellie whispered against Rath's chest, nuzzling into hard nipples pushing against the tight black tee.

"God, yes...ohhh..." The fingers stroked, caressed, cajoled, drawing breathy gasps and moans from Rath. He felt Shellie smile against his chest. "Keep touching...don't stop, bitch...don't stop...oh, shit..." He loved how she seemed to forget everything about where they were.

"Let it go, Rath..." Shellie pushed Rath's pants down his legs, reaching to cup the balls hanging there, rolling them in her hand, squeezing.

"No..." Rath pushed himself back from Shellie and shoved her onto the couch. "I want to drink you….feel you come apart under me. Then I want to fuck you until you can't see straight."

"Oh," came a faint voice below him.

Rath dropped to his knees in front of Shellie and pushed her tiny leather skirt up over her hips, fingers bruising her thighs more in his haste to spread her legs and expose Shellie's cunt to his hungry eyes. The leather skirt was bunched around Shellie's waist, and Rath leaned in to take his first taste of Shellie, licking gently across the swollen clit, reveling in Shellie's gasp. Flavors and scents exploded across his taste buds, as he applied himself to do what he did best, with his best asset…his tongue.

Hot. His fucking whore tasted of heat and honey. Heat, salt, sweat and a slightly bitter flavor of him from before….his sperm; a delicious combination; the total package of Shellie. He tongued her, plunging a finger into her tight cunt along the folds until her clit budded and swelled. He pulled back, enough to give her a little maneuvering room, then he sucked the engorged bud of Shellie's clit into his mouth, running his tongue all across the top of it, gnawing it with ravaging bites.

"Ohmigod....Rath...Mmmm..." Hands clutched at his head, fingers scrambling for purchase.

He ignored everything but his driving need for this and plunged a little further into the hot, engorged mound. The reaction was electric: Shellie groaned low in her throat and shoved upward against him, forcing the rest of herself into Rath's mouth. She was talking viciously to him, moaning and demanding he devour her hot cunt. Rath grunted and swallowed, taking it all in.

He sucked Shellie voraciously, like a starving man, needing to taste her. Liquid was flowing copiously from Shellie's pussy and Rath drank eagerly, taking every drop. He could feel the striations in the soft folds under his tongue; felt and heard the thundering pulse racing through the thin blood vessels engorging the sensitive tissue, tasted the salt of the skin itself. Her body rolled beneath his lips as he slid them frantically up and down, eating her fully. Shellie moaned above him, hands caressing at his head. Holding him hard against her withering body.

Rath moved his embedded fingers out of her dripping snatch to reach below to the opening of her ass. Such an ass man. He never neglected that part of her.

"Rath...?" Shellie's voice sounded shaky, breathless.

"Hang on, baby..." Rath reached for Shellie, shifting her so her legs lay over his shoulders. He buried his face in the fold between Shellie's thighs, inhaling the scent deeply before turning to place a kiss on the inside of the leg. A line of kisses was drawn from Shellie's thigh to her dripping sex, then down to her ass. Rath shifted her again, sliding his hands under Shellie's hips, cradling her ass. He spread her even more apart with his thumbs and licked from bottom of her cunt to the top of the folds, pausing to swirl his tongue over the puckered clit that beckoned there.

"Please, Rath...fuck me, don't tease..." The hands were clutching at his head again. He drew back slightly, listening to be sure they were still relatively alone, then returned to his task. He swirled his tongue round and round and into the hole, pressing the tip against her swollen clit, sucking on it harshly. One hand reached up to close around Shellie's pert breasts, squeezing them briskly in time to the tiny thrusts he made with his tongue. Shellie moaned incoherently, arching into his mouth, pressing against his tongue.

"Rathhhhhhh...I'm gonna...I'm co--...Oh. My. Goooo--mmphh!!" Shellie's body arched upward, straining and spasming as she flooded Rath’s mouth with her orgasm. Her cry was cut off abruptly as she leaned over him and bit heavily into his skin of his shoulder and back.

Rath caught the warm fluid dripping from her in his hand, lubing a finger with it. He pressed the digit against Shellie's ass already somewhat loosened and lubricated, and pushed forward. Her body relaxed around him and the finger eased into the tight passage. He thrust easily with the one and withdrew to add another. He’d already used her once that evening that way, and she was still opened.

"Mmm--oh, yeah...oh, Rath..." Shellie moved against the fingers, pressing downward.

"Yah like that, don't you? Like my fingers up yor ass, my slut?" Rath growled the words low, leaning in to nip at Shellie's thighs as he continued to fuck the fingers in and out.

"Oh yeah...give 'em to me...I love it...Oh..." Shellie's breathless chant was cut off when Rath withdrew both fingers suddenly, shifting so that Shellie's legs fell from his shoulders.

He stood in front of her, erection straining forward, blindly seeking. "Take my pants off," he whispered hoarsely. Shellie reached up and ran a finger across the trembling, weeping cock then pushed the tight leather over Rath's hips. He sat down on the couch next to her. "Straddle my legs," he commanded in a rough voice.

Shellie scrambled to her knees uncaring who was watching them or how exposed her body was to others, all she could see was Rath. One leg swung over Rath's, then she was straddling him, the core of her tingling and hurting….missing his attention, responding to the hardness staining against her sex.

"Oh, god!" The cry had a surprised ring to it. She almost came again without him even entering her. Lust. It was overwhelming her. With him, she could rarely remember her name, or anything.

Rath smiled as he buried his face in Shellie's neck. His fingers were slowly working the rest of Shellie's slickness into the tight passage, twisting and spreading, loosening the ring of muscle there. He wanted to bury himself in her thirsty cunt, then fuck her ass.

"Am I making yah hot again, Shellie? Do yah want me? Want me to fuck yor tight puss and little ass until yah come screaming?"

"Jesus, yes! Oh, god, yes, I want you to fuck me...stick your dick up me and give it to me! Use me!"

The words were exchanged in heated whispers, breathed against hot skin. Shellie fucked herself on Rath's fingers in her ass, as she moved the hard length of him along the folds of her hungry cunt, her own fingers playing with his hard, tight nipples. A particularly vicious twist and Rath groaned, his cock twitching.

"Nuff! I wanna cum inside yah….not on yah. C'mere." Rath leaned back against the couch and took himself into his hand, with one hand’s fingers still in her ass, and the other guiding his cock up and down the wet folds of her cunt. He spread the liquid onto his cock, mixing it with the pre-cum that was already coating the head. He shoved his fingers hard into Shellie's ass using them to hold her firmly to him, as he spread the folds of her sex wide helping her to shift forward, raising slightly.

"Ohhhh....fuck, Boo..." Shellie breathed out as she impaled herself slowly on Rath's engorged cock.

"Christ, Shellie..." Rath swallowed heavily as he was engulfed by the hottest, tightest passage he'd ever been in. So different from Lonnie. So small. So tight. So much feeling everywhere. He could feel himself throbbing inside of Shellie, felt the smaller body throbbing around him. It was incredible….the rush of blood through the thin walls of skin caressed and massaged him, Shellie's pulse felt like staccato beats pounding along his sensitive cock, the heat of her body seemed to sear him, branding him. "Yah're mine. All mine," he whispered hoarsely as he inclined his head to claim Shellie's mouth with his. Arms came up around his neck as his lover settled her weight more comfortably, rocking to take the rest of his penis in. Letting him pick up the pace, raging in her tight channel, scraping the tender flesh inside, moaning as he made her ache.

"Yours...yes. All yours, Rath. Anyway you want me. Anyway." Rath groaned in her mouth. So generous. So loving. Her hands. They moved over him, not just in lust, but in love. Flashes. Images. Tastes. Light. They moved through his body. He couldn’t get far enough inside her, or stay long enough. If he could strip off her skin and merge into her body, it still wouldn’t be enough.

They rocked together gently for a long moment, lips and tongues searching, tasting, reassuring. Then the hunger that had engulfed both of them began to rise again and movements became more urgent, more frantic.

Shellie tore her mouth from Rath's, panting, rocking her body backward. Rath shifted so that he had a better anchored position, and cupped Shellie's ass more firmly in his hands, spreading the cheeks. Pulling out of her tight cunt, he shifted her and pushed himself up into her, positioning himself at her tighter opening. His lover steadied herself with hands on his shoulders and began moving over him, sliding up and down the heated shaft piercing her flesh as he penetrated her ass again. He couldn’t settle for just one orifice. He needed all of her. Every fucking inch. It sang to a violence in his blood. A violence she seemed to understand, to tame, and to need to feel as well.

Rath groaned when Shellie flexed her sphincter muscles, thrusting up into that moist, welcoming heat. He leaned forward and bit Shellie gently on the neck, sucking on the pulse point. She moaned low in her throat and Rath did it again, biting a little harder this time. Shellie's answer was to flex her muscles again. It was hard. It was pain. It was delicious.

"Baby, yah're killing me...my fucking slut, you feel so good...tight, hot...I'm fucking yah, Shellie...I'm inside yah, fucking yor ass."

"I know...god, I know...I can feel you throbbing inside me...oh, baby...OH! Oh, yeah...again, Rath...again...ohhhhh...yeah....yeah, right there...ohhhHH!" She loved how sore he left her. Hours after he left her body, she could feel him all along the bruises, cuts and bites, and the strained tissue inside. Sometimes she stood nude in front of a mirror reading the marks on her body like a roadmap of where Rath had been.

Rath pulled out of that tight channel, quickly moving his hand over himself to clean himself. He shifted her again, pushing back into her hot cunt. Rath angled his penetration and pushed the tip of his cock against Shellie's sensitive clit. The shivers and shudders that racked her softer body were echoed through his own body when Shellie tightened around him.

Their movements became faster, harder. Rath slammed up into Shellie. Shellie rocked down hard on Rath. It became a battle of sorts, players changing sides, working for the same team. Rath sought Shellie's mouth in a ravenous kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth like he was thrusting with his cock. Shellie reached between them to stroke her breasts hard, twisting her nipples and pulling on the piercing in her nipple; Rath brushed her hand away. Pushing her nylon mesh shirt up over her breasts, he bent down and took a nipple in his mouth working it hotly, and then the other. Pulling the golden ring into his mouth, he hooked it on the piercing in his tongue and tugged it viciously. Shellie’s nails bit into his skin, scratching bloody streaks as Rath’s fingers found her ass again and he shoved them inside, pumping faster and faster to match the frantic pace their bodies were following. He watched Shellie's face, the changing, restless expressions and whispered encouragingly, "That's it, Shell baby...cum for me...I wanna see yah cum...there…..there yah go..."

Shellie convulsed, her body stiffening and contracting as she flooded Rath’s groin with her orgasm reaching forward to bite a bloodied trail on Rath's chest. Rath thrust hard into the willing body, holding his thrust as Shellie's body tightened around him, muscles clenching, milking his orgasm. He shuddered for long moments, shaking from the intensity as Shellie flexed and contracted around him, over and over. The orgasm hit them both hard, and they seemed trapped in a place, a lull where there was no sound except their own bodies screaming, and the gasping rush of breath.

Then it was done, and they sat there, Rath still buried deep within Shellie, both panting and shaking from the intensity of the sensations and the emotions.

Rath rested with his head back against the couch, Shellie lying against his chest. Warm, moist air moved across ultra sensitive skin and he arched slightly into it. He brought a hand up to tangle into those incredible silky golden strands, reflecting for a moment that they were indeed as soft as they looked. People were watching them in shock, but in their drunken state, who gave a fuck? It wasn’t like any of them would ever come near to achieving what he and Shell did. Hell. Alien orgasm, to hell. He never reached this deep with Lonnie. Not even close.

"Shellie?" No response. "Shell?"

"Yeah." The utter contentedness in her voice surprised him and he forgot for a minute what he wanted to ask. "What, Rath?"

"Yah okay?"

"If I were any more okay I'd be dead." The voice was muffled against his chest. Rath gripped a handful of hair and pulled the head back gently, staring at her.

"Yah sure?"

"I'm fine. Better than fine. Fucking sore all over." Shellie grimaced at the pull of muscles tightening and then relaxing again.

Rath relaxed, releasing his hold on the silky strands. "Yeah, me too." His dick actually hurt. He might have sprung it in her body. Smiling like an overfed cat, the punk in him congratulated himself on a brilliant fucking piece of ass.

They sat there, stroking each other softly, for several minutes. Then Shellie sighed and raised herself off Rath's chest. "We should get dressed, Rath. This really is a public place."

Rath smiled at his lover…at Shellie. He never had a lover before. Not really. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" If anyone had told him an hour ago that he'd go to the frat house party, a place he detested, then proceed to have incredible, hard-core sex with his lover, he'd thought them whacked, since he could’ve stayed home and used her body over and over in the comfort of their bed. Yet there he was, phased not one little bit, sitting half naked and totally satiated on a couch in the observation lounge, an equally naked and satiated Shellie on his lap. Reality really was stranger than fiction.

"Shellie?" He promised to give her want she wanted later. Suddenly later wasn’t soon enough. He could picture her bent over his lap, her naked ass upturned and exposed as he spanked her tender flesh with a piece of cane. Closing his eyes and groaning, he wondered how he got so lucky to find a bitch that liked to be spanked.

"Yeah?"

Rath hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say, just not how to say it. "Let's go home."

"Right."

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Sins of the father…

 

 

Rath woke first. It was late, but Shellie only had one class today. An early afternoon one, right after lunch. The day was bright, and a gentle breeze entered the room as the curtains swayed. It was sometimes hard to imagine that they were in New York City. It felt like spring. The air was sweet. At least from the floor that the apartment was on. Rath smirked to himself. At street level there would be the smell of thawing dog shit, exhaust, and garbage once frozen in the now melting snow banks. New York City. There was no place like home.

Shellie was sleeping on her stomach sprawled across the bed next to him, bare. The sheet had slipped low. Rath’s eyes moved over the cuts on her back, ass, and the back of her thighs. He beat her deeply. It was strange. He never understood why she felt the need to feel pain, but it was something that she seemed to want. He liked it too, but she seemed to crave it. Frowning, he noted a few of the whelps were more than minor cuts and abrasives, but actually too deep. His hand had slipped.

Reaching down, he lowered his mouth to the small of her back and kissed the skin. While she slept, he ran his hand over her marks, and lessened their severity. They would completely heal on their own in a couple of days. It wasn’t the first time he had healed her unknown to her. There was a strange nagging sensation in his stomach. Maybe hunger? Maybe a need not to see her truly in pain and hurt because of him. No. That couldn’t be it.

“Mmmm.” Shellie looked up from where her head rested on the pillow. “Too early to wake up, Boo. Go back to sleep.”

“We could do som’em.”

Shellie moved into him, her mouth moving up his neck, kissing and nipping him in tiny bites. His skin was still salty from last night. “Something? I’m sore from more than something last night.” Shellie kissed him, lingering. Rath. Strange how his name tended to be more a sigh at times. He liked to kiss. At first it was more of an assault. Him trying to dominate. Now it was something they did together.

“I’d be kicking to make ya sorer. Yor a total candy.”

Shellie pushed him off and sat up on the side of the bed stretching. Reaching back, her hand moved over him, down his body to grip his morning erection. “I could make you breakfast.”

Rath moved his hand under her golden hair and pulled her back to him. Kissing her enthusiastically, he moved his other hand down to move over her still red ass, smiling slightly at the hiss of pain she gave. “I always like yah for breakfast.”

Bending down, Shellie kissed his stomach. Quickly she tossed a leg over his hip, and settled on his morning erection so quickly he had little time to react except in a groan. Shit. He felt honored to have run into a nymphomaniac, but there was a sneaking suspicion that he sort of helped create her.

Rath made a howling noise as she speeded up, and Shellie laughingly put a hand over his mouth. “Sh! We don’t want the neighbors calling the cops again about a wild animal in the apartments.”

Rath laughed. Upscale rent controlled apartments. They had little else to worry about. Since he moved in they tried to create a co-op petition to have him banned from the premises, but since Shellie’s father owned the building there was little anyone could do since only a handful bought their units.

Later while Shellie was loading the dishwasher, Rath finished up his breakfast. He was haphazardly flipping through channels. “So they will be here at seven-thirty. You sure you can pick up dinner from Guido’s? I ordered extra of that garlic cheese bread you like. They will charge to account, but you have to pick it up by seven!” Shellie looked up from cleaning the kitchen. “Rath?”

He grunted. Shellie smiled. That was Rath-speak for affirmative.

“I cleaned the bathroom. The rest of the place looks pretty good. We actually managed to clean up a bit last night between other things.” Rath laughed at that. They were pretty busy. “Try not to make too much of a mess today. Oh, and it’s supposed to be clear today, so no nude standing outside in the rooftop garden. There are a lot of news cameras flybys. Hate to see you flashing on the news again.”

Rath laughed at that, squinting his eyes he stuck his tongue at Shellie suggestively. Nice how she failed to mention exactly what he was doing the last time they made the news. Perhaps it was her position with legs in the air.

Shellie stopped before she left and stroked his face. “Look, I have to tell you this. I don’t want you to be upset tonight when you meet my parents. I appreciate that you’re going to try, but you should know that they’re going to hate you.” Shellie kissed him before he could protest. “It doesn’t matter how well you clean up. They hated every boyfriend I ever had. Even the ones they picked, and with me starting Law School in the fall, they don’t want anything distracting me. I’m afraid they will consider you a distraction. A big one.”

“And yah? Whatcha think?”

Shellie kissed him. “I think you’re cute, and you should distract me all you want.”

After Shell left for school, Rath went back to bed. Lying in the bedroom, he watched a little TV, but finally caught up on some much needed sleep. He had time. He’d nap, then he’d do his thing.

 

~~~

 

Rath was leaning against the wall. Eyes closed, there was no expression on his face. His hands were buried in the blonde hair controlling the mouth. Quickly checking his watch, he pushed the mouth off his cock and quickly zipped it up. Lonnie sat back on her heels in disgust.

“Yo, what gives? I wuzant  done.”

“Done ‘nuff. I’ze got places to be.” Rath moved away from her, dispassionately checking out his old home.

“The lily white ho.” Lonnie sneered. Rath’s eyes narrowed and he picked Lonnie up roughly pushing her hard into a wall.

“Back off, Lonnie. Yor the only freak around. Cunter.”

“Yah never complained before, cuz.”

Rath shrugged and dropped her. “Yah said ya needed to spat at me, so talk. I’ve got plans and no time.”

“Bet the girly doesn’t know yah’re here doing me, cuz.”

Rath laughed. “Shell knows me. Don’t fool with my shit, Lonnie.” Rath shook his head. He was out of there. Didn’t even know why he bothered. Lonnie was like a repeat herpes infection. Falling into sex with her was too easy, and strangely it meant nothing. When she cut him loose, he hated it. Now, he felt that maybe he should do something to thank her for kicking him to the wayside. “So you talkin’ or I’m walkin’.”

Lonnie caught his arm. “I need som’em. Nicolas and Kivar, will give me a boost to Antar if I gets this little thang.”

“Thang?” Rath’s eyes narrowed. She was using him again. Antar. Rath paused for a moment. His home. Damn. “Watsa this thang?

Lonnie face became blank as she tried to appear not too concerned. “Seems that King Ding-a-ling, Maxie, and his band of rejects came into possession of this black cone. It’s part of the Granilith, and yah can use it tah activate a ship, or som’em like that. Kivar wants it.”

“Do I care what yor Kivar wants?” Rath seemed to be thinking about it. “Um, no.” Antar. It was a dream. Maybe even a nightmare. It consumed his entire life. The want to return, to leave Earth. He finally was feeling better, and now this. Rath had no problem noticing that travel plans were for Lonnie and not him. “Get it yorself. Ask the little fish biter to help yah. I’m out of here.”

“Rath!” Lonnie’s voice was edged in a slight hysteria. She was alone. Somehow she never thought he would stay away so long. Even today, she pushed herself on him sexually in a hope to get back some of her control of him. That hadn’t worked either. She needed him. “Don’t walk away! Don’t!”

“Or what?” Rath laughed. Staring at her, at the place he once called home, it coated his skin like a disease. Years. Years go by and he never knew. He never knew. His dupe told him he deserved more, that he had a right to have more. Six weeks of living in fresh air, and he had changed. Maybe not inside, he was what he was, but he didn’t feel so alone.

Lonnie’s face went mean. “Yah have more to lose now, Rath. That pretty pussy yor banging looks tasty.”

Lonnie didn’t even see it coming. She hit the wall hard, and seemed to be stuck there suspended before she fell. The lights around them exploded as did the glass. Rath never moved. Lonnie for the first time in a long time felt afraid. Rath was always more volatile. Easy to push to murder and violence. She had used it often to get what she wanted, but this was the first time she saw a hint of what really lived in him. What she suspected all her life was only a small piece of it.

Rath came to her, kneeling to look at her like she was garbage. “Do not threaten me with Shellie. Do not make that mistake, Lonnie.”

Lonnie scrambled away from him. “I need yah! We gotta take it from King Dick. They are keeping it in a secure place. Nicolas said the Commander has it! Rath! I need yah!”

Rath shook his head. “Yah got powers. Do it yorself.”

Lonnie watched as he walked out of the underground cavern. Damn him! Damn this Shellie whore! If not for her, Rath would’ve skulked home long ago. Rath knew the Commander. There was a chance.

“Thought you said you could control him.” Nicolas said coming out of the shadows. He had watched the blow job with interest. Either Lonnie was losing her touch, or the punk headed freak was immune.

“Shut up!” Lonnie could feel the icy finger of desperation. “I can. He’ll do it. Yo’ll see.”

“He better, or you’re going to need to think about an occupation. I suggest finding a productive street corner.”

“Shut up! He’ll do it!” Lonnie bit on a nail. He would. If he knew what was important to him, he’d do it.

 

~~~

 

Rath swore. Looking at the clock on the wall, he was already late. This wasn’t his fault. The food wasn’t ready. Rath gave the man behind the takeout counter a nasty look, and quickly went into the men’s to take a piss. Staring at himself in the mirror, he reached up and altered his appearance to look a little more like his Dupe, Michael. The more obvious piercings were gone, the hair was longer, but he kept his tattoos.

Shit, it wasn’t going to matter. Shellie said they would hate him anyway. Rath pulled at his collar and frowned at his image. Maybe he felt a little bad about letting Lonnie blow him. He sort of promised Shellie he’d keep his dick out of other women…and men, and whatever. Lonnie sort of fell into the category of ‘whatever’. Less than twenty-four hours he was already shoving his dick down Lonnie’s gullet. Rath frowned. Maybe he should change his clothes too?

“Yacker!” The man called it twice, before he caught Rath’s attention. “Hey, your order is ready!”

“Bout time, bitch! It wuz supposed to be done by seven!”

“You want it or not?” The man frowned at Rath’s slightly altered appearance.

Rath took it in a huff. If he beat pavement, he might beat Shellie’s parents there. It was fucking raining, and almost seven-thirty. Maybe they would be delayed. Shellie should’ve made it home half an hour before. Rath could see her quickly cleaning up anything needing straightening in the apartment, hiding the sex toys….Rath grinned.

Rath was half a block away when he noticed the emergency lights. Pausing. His steps faltered. Lifetime of caution, and he was ready to bolt. Frowning he noticed it was in front of his building.

Shellie?

Running the last few steps, a cop tried to detain him.

“Get off, 5-0! I live here!”

“Let me see some ID…”

Rath pulled away from the uniform rushing up the stairs, ignoring the elevator. Pausing to catch his breath at the top flights, he went through the fire stairwell doors. The door to his apartment was open. It was lousy with cops. Rath ignored them.

Pushing past them, he went into the apartment. “Shellie!”

There were two older people on the sofa, and the woman was crying. They were talking to a police detective. They stopped talking when Rath came in. He looked at them frantically. Then around the apartment. It was a shambles.

Fuck! He even helped clean! Shellie was going to be pissed. This wasn’t his fault. They were burglarized. Rath tried to remember if he locked the damn door on his way out.

“Shellie,” he yelled. “Where is Shellie?” Rushing into the bedroom, he surveyed the mess. Damn. Their bed was practically shredded. It was Shellie’s book bag spilled out on the floor that made his freeze. She had been home. Her laptop was crushed.

“Sir, I need to ask you some questions.” Rath ignored the detective. He searched the rest of the apartment, quickly going out on the rooftop garden. Wandering to the edge of the building he looked down at the streets. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you….”

Rath went back inside staring at Shellie’s parents. He didn’t know what to say. The annoying man kept asking him questions as a few filtered through.

“Rath. My name is Rath. I live here with Shellie.” Rath looked around helpless. “I wuz picking up dinner at Guido’s. The bastard was late. I had to wait.” Rath turned around. “I shudda been here. I wodda been here.”

“This man, Mr. Ira Yacker, he says that he never met you. Him and his wife found the door wide open, the mess, and their daughter missing. Do you have a source of ID?” Rath ignored him again. He wandered towards the kitchen and set the bag of food down. “Sir, we’re going to need you to come downtown to answer some questions. In cases like these…..”

Rath wasn’t listening. He was staring at a pile of sugar on the countertop. In the sugar was a symbol. Four squares connected by crossed lines.

Lonnie.

Looking at Shellie’s parents, he shrugged off a restraining hand. “I’ll find her. I’ll bring her back!”

The man holding Rath never knew what hit him. He was once holding him, and the next moment, he was kissing carpet. Rath made it outside. Searching up and down the street in the rain, he found the first access to take him underground past the subway vents.

Rushing into Lonnie’s den, he searched the place destroying everything in his wake.

“Lonnie, yah fucking bitch! I’ll find yah. I will kill yah!” The place was empty. Lonnie gone.

“Shellie!”

Rath stopped, kneeling down and breathing hard. He wouldn’t find Lonnie unless she wanted him to find her. Standing, he left the sewer. As he walked through, there was a silence, followed by a loud squeaking of terrified rats as a loud rushing whoosh sound pushed through the tunnels in a wall of fire burning everything in its path.

The streets of New York City went deathly quiet as main transformers burst into flames as if a force of a magnitude of a F5 tornado hit them. The city went black. Car alarms echoed in the night as sirens followed and the bursting of windows throughout the downtown metro exploded in a barrage of glass. The local geological center recorded an epicenter of downtown New York City with a seismic event registering near 4.6 on the Richter scale.

 

~~~

 

Roswell, a month ago….

 

 

“Michael! What is wrong with you!” Maria backed up from him, her brow creased in a frown. Worried. He felt wrong. He felt…angry.

“Nothing! There is nothing wrong with me.” Michael grabbed her, holding her easily like a vulnerable fly. Kissing her brutally, Maria struggled to get away from him.

“This isn’t you! It’s not!”

Michael pulled her back. “Yes, it is! I warned you. I told you to stay away, that you wouldn’t like what I was.” Michael kissed her again, his hands removing her clothing fast and without care.

“Stop it! I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re talking crazy. Michael…let me help you. Let me…”

“Help me?” Michael sneered. Pushing her towards the bedroom. “Help me this way.” He kicked the door closed behind him as she backed away from him in the room, her mouth opening to scream as he ripped his shirt off. On his chest was a mark. A crest. It looked like a V shape tattoo, except it glowed.

“Michael, what is that?” He kept advancing on her. “Michael?”

Maria struggled against him when he caught her again. She could feel the arousal of his body. He was hurting her.

“Michael…”

“Do you ever shut up?!” He kissed her brutally. Tossing her on the bed, he watched as her nude body scrambled away from him. Smiling evilly, he slowly unbuckled his belt and his jeans. Nice mouth. He’d give her something better to do with it than bitch at him. He’d let her service her King.

“Stay away from me! Don’t touch me!” Maria gauged the distance from the bed and the closed door. Michael saw her look and he smiled.

“Try it. I dare you.”

“This isn’t you! It’s not you.”

Michael grabbed her harshly ignoring her screams and pleas. “Yes it is! Love him. Love me! We are what we are.”

 

He watched her sleep. She was sprawled across his bed on her stomach with barely a sheet covering her ass, the rest of her nude. The room was a mess. She had more fight in her than he had imagined possible. Moving his hand up her leg, the bruises on her flesh pleased him. His Queen. His mate. She was covered in marks. His marks.

Smiling, he bent down and kissed the back of her thigh, then biting it hard. Hard enough to leave his teeth marks and bleeding. She made a sound of pain in her throat, but she didn’t wake. Maria. Michael closed his eyes for a moment. His head hurt. Bad. His back hurt from where she had scratched grooves in his flesh. He could still see the blood under her nails. Good. He didn’t want them to be not equal in that. She left her teeth marks in his shoulder and back as well.

She had fought him hard, a part of her pleading to him, trying to find her Michael. But after a while, she stopped pushing him away, and begged him to stay with her. To make love to her harder. Kissing the small of her back, he looked up at the binding around her wrists. She was still tied to the bed. Her body was covered in bites and scratches. And a few deeper wounds. He bruised the inside of her thighs. There was a mixture of blood, sweat, and semen on the sheets. “I love you,” he whispered.

She was his. The sooner she realized it, the better. They had a long journey ahead of them.

“Sleep. I’ll be back for you. As soon as I take care of something weak, and that traitorous Vilandra. Then we’ll leave.” Michael smiled in a grin that resembled nothing Maria would’ve recognized. “I just got a few things to kill.”

He grabbed his jacket and bike helmet. Slamming the door on his way out, he revved up his bike and was off in the night.

It was the slamming of the door that woke her. The pain hit her first, then the increased pain from the light he left on beside the bed. Headache. Bad. Surprisingly it wasn’t broken. Almost everything else in the room was. Maria tried to move, but the pain was too much. It was in her lower back, thighs, and her arms. Looking up at her arms, she pulled on her tied up arms increasing the pain in her wrists.

“Dammit, Michael!” Maria tried to get free. Struggling, she worked tirelessly until one hand was finally free. The binding had cut into her flesh, deeper than a knife. The pins and needles were like ant bites. Maria bit her lip to keep from screaming. Slowly untying the other wrist, she tried to sit up on the edge of the bed. Her head was pounding, and the room swirled in a sickening circle. The black spots moved in front of her eyes, and she collapsed from the bed in a heap barely keeping consciousness as nausea welled in her stomach.

Michael. She had to get to Michael.

Breathing hard, she tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t hold her weight. Maria moaned and laid there on the floor. “Get up! Damn you, get up!”

Slowly pulling herself from the floor, she practically crawled, slowly inching across the room. Her body hurt too much to even crawl on all fours. One wrist was really bad. It was bleeding openly. Too much. Maria refused to look at it. She had no time. No time.

Reaching the phone, Maria laid panting under it, against the wall. Staring up, it looked so far away from the floor. “Move it, DeLuca. Stop being a baby.” Maria couldn’t convince herself to move, but she found the strength to slowly stand.

“Awwwww!” Maria hugged the wall, her breath loud gasping sounds, as she held on to the side of the door leading into the bathroom. Her scream was loud and pealing, echoing through the room, piercing in her own ears. Gulping the air as the nausea hit her again, she tried to get herself under control. The numbers on the phone were in dual vision. The movement was adding to her nausea.

Maria dialed the numbers practically closing her eyes and trusting touch and memory. The ringing was almost too far away, like she was hearing through a tunnel…a very long distance. Oh shit. She was going to pass out. No. No. No.

“Yeah?”

“Max?” Maria’s voice sounded too low. Even to her. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Max!”

“Maria?” Max’s voice was concerned, impatient and distant. “I can barely hear you! Maria? Where are you? Where the hell is Michael? Maria?” He was so damn annoying! Maria bit back that thought. She had no time and he was wasting it.

“Max….Michael. You’ve got to help Michael!” Maria held onto the receiver harder as she slid down the wall.

“Maria! Where is Michael?” Max was talking to someone in the background. Maria thought it might be Liz.

“Jesse. He went to find Jesse and kill him and Isabel….Vilandra.” Maria’s mouth was too dry. Licking her lips, she would’ve given anything for a drink of water. “Max, he’s not himself. He has something on his chest. It looks like a ‘V’. It’s glowing. It’s not him.” Maria held the phone firmly her voice struggling to be louder. “Don’t hurt him! It’s not him. He’s not himself. Save him, Max. Save him. Please. Don’t hurt him.”

“Maria? Maria?” Max shouted in the phone, but Maria didn’t answer. Looking at Liz, he shook his head. They had to find Michael. Quick.

Maria passed out for a moment. Waking, she was on the floor under the phone. The receiver was making strange noises. Maria left it. She didn’t have the strength to hang it up. Crawling into the bathroom, she barely made it to the toilet before she lost her stomach. Hugging the cold porcelain, sweat prickled on her skin, the last of her color drained, and she fainted in a heap on the floor beside the toilet.

 

Max stood over Michael where he laid on the sofa in Isabel and Jesse’s trashed home. “I couldn’t heal it all.” They fought. Almost to the death. Fighting. It seemed all they ever did recently.

Michael was strangely quiet. “That’s okay.” He didn’t look at Max. The scar on his chest hurt. It ached and burned. Max had ripped the crest back to himself. The scarring was a reminder.

“Feel up to going home?”

Michael nodded, refusing Max’s help, or anyone else’s. He didn’t want anyone to touch him. Nobody. Standing, he wavered on his feet. Breathing in deeply, he tried to clear his head. It was still pounding.

“Guess I should thank you, all of you for not killing me.” Michael said gruffly. His voice was hoarse. He hurt. All over. He could feel cuts and bruises everywhere, not just the scar from the crest.

The others were quiet. Isabel and Liz shared a look, and then both looked away guiltily. They had voted for killing the out of control alien Michael. It was because of Maria and Max that he survived. Isabel held a cloth to a cut on Jesse’s head and Kyle was silent as well.

“Maria asked me to help you. She said you weren’t yourself. Not to hurt you.” Max said. He wanted to help Michael stand, but he was afraid of Michael’s reaction. Their relationship and friendship had taken many hits over the last years, and this was another big one. He was King again, and Michael was not. Max wasn’t sure how Michael felt about that, but all of Michael’s walls were back up again in full strength.

Then suddenly Michael’s face changed. It turned red, and Max watched as sickness and a paleness bleached the color from his brother.

“Maria,” Michael said in almost a horrified whisper. “Oh God, Maria!”

Michael pushed them out of his way, as he rushed outside to his bike. Max tried to stop him. He wasn’t strong enough to ride his bike, but Michael was gone before they could stop him.

Michael rushed into his apartment. Shocked at the state of the place, he didn’t stop. He went straight to the bedroom, where he had left her. Standing in the doorway, he felt sick. Nausea was moving through his gut and up his throat threatening to choke him. The room was a sight. A mess. It looked like a war zone. Things were broken. The bed was telling its own tale. Michael closed his eyes to the blood, and the sight of one of the restraints he used to tie up her wrists to the bed. It was soaked in blood.

“Maria!” Michael walked out of his bedroom backwards, almost unable to stop staring at the sight. She wasn’t there. She was gone. “Maria!”

Michael rushed to the door, but he stopped at the sight of the receiver of the phone. There was blood on it as well. Blood on the wall. A long strip of blood showing how she had slid down the wall. “Maria,” he whispered.

Looking in the bathroom, he saw her. It was the sheet that had been wrapped around her, the whiteness drew his eyes. She was still out on the floor.

“Maria, oh God, baby!” Michael rushed to her side. Picking her up in his arms, he turned as Max rushed into the room followed by the others. Their sounds of horror were no louder than his own.

“Maria!” Liz’s voice rang shrill over the others.

“She’s alive!” Michael said. “Get out! Get out! Leave us alone!”

Michael kicked the door closed in their faces, and he turned on the water to the bath. Climbing in fully clothed, he ran a tepid water with her in his arms. He held her against him wrapped in a bloody sheet unconscious as he rocked them both. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Michael kept repeating. He was openly crying. “Oh God, what did I do? What did I do?”

Max stood outside the bathroom with his head on the door, eyes closed. He could hear Michael. He couldn’t ever remember hearing Michael cry before. He never wanted to again.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

This is who we are…

 

Roswell, two weeks post devastation…..

 

“Maria…” Liz tried to stop her from leaving.

“Liz, I’m not talking about this again.” Maria shut her locker. A group of jocks walked by, but Maria ignored them. She ignored everyone. Lately, everyone was pissing her off. Her mother. Liz. Max. Isabel. Kyle. Even Michael. Jesse was the only one actually easy to be around. He was quiet, but she felt that he understood when no one else could.

“Maria, I think you should see a counselor, or something. You’re obviously in denial. And…”

Maria wished she hadn’t closed her locker door, so then she could slam it now. No matter what she said, or how often, no one was listening to her. No one. Michael was treating her like a glass figurine. Liz wanted her away from Michael. Her mother was semi-hysterical that she was staying out late, or not coming home at all. Max and Isabel, they were in agreement of one thing. She needed time away from Michael.

No one listened. No one could understand.

“Liz, I love you, but again, butt out!”

Maria was still working off her anger when she slammed into the apartment. Michael winced. Finishing his cereal, he sighed. Getting up, he went to get her a peach Snapple. Not diet. She needed to gain some weight.

“Who this time?” He asked softly, waiting for her to blow.

“Liz.” Michael rolled his eyes. Who else. Why bother asking? Maria went to take the Snapple from him. Stroking his cheek, she quickly kissed him and sat next to him. Taking a drink, she brooded.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” Maria swallowed some more of her drink. “You think you’d almost killed me, the way they’re acting.”

“You could’ve died,” Michael said quietly. He rarely spoke louder anymore. Not unless he got mad, but lately it was like he was trying desperately to calm that part of him.

“Dehydration isn’t dead, Michael.” Maria said equally softly to him. That night. The Night. The one subject they talked about ad nausea.

“Maria,” Michael paused. He shrugged and took his bowl to the sink.

“Fork it over!”

“What?”

“One dollar! Now!”

Michael rolled his eyes again, but reluctantly dug the dollar out handing it to her. Maria shoved it in her pocket. “Speak.”

“I….maybe they have a point. You could use some time away from me.”

Maria bit the inside of her mouth, frustrated. “You think? That’s what you want and believe too?” Maria watched him walk into the living room and flip through his music. Avoidance. He was a master of it. Her voice firmed. “Is that what you want!”

“No!” Maria smiled slightly as he turned to her, his face red in anger. Better. He was getting better. At first he barely spoke above a whisper to her, and not at all to anyone else.

“Then why aren’t we in our bedroom fucking like bunnies?”

Their bedroom. It became that after that night. He stripped the room. She watched him burn the sheets, bedding, even the mattress. It took some work to stop him from burning the very room. Now everything in that bedroom was new; they bought together. Even the bed. The sheets. Bedding. Pillows. Everything.

“Maria…I’m not ready.”

“Great. Not ready. I am sexually frustrated. I have everyone I love telling me to cut you loose, even you at times. I’ve got offers to find me a rape counselor daily. They are working themselves up into an intervention of some damn tough love scenario! No matter how many times I say it wasn’t rape, does anyone listen to me?”

“Non-consensual sex is rape, Maria! I was there!” Maria watched him stomp off to the bedroom. Good. He was getting angry again. He wasn’t ready because he was afraid.

Maria followed him. “Another dollar!”

“What? I didn’t break the rule. I’m talking!”

“The rule said no hiding or running away. You ran away to avoid talking about it.”

“Shit!” Michael checked his wallet for another dollar. “I’ll owe you.”

“No credit. No checks. Money on the barrel. That was the rule.” Maria leaned against the bedroom door with her arms crossed in front of her. “Pay up, buddy!” Irritated, Michael searched the room for money. He found change. Tossing four quarters on the bed, he picked up the laundry basket and began folding and sorting their clean laundry.

She was living with him. Sort of. Maria was too afraid at first to leave him alone, more afraid of what he would do. Not really a suicide watch, but more a ‘Michael out there on his own’ stupidity watch. After the crest was ripped from him, Michael not only felt alone, but horrified at the devastation he created in their lives, his and Maria’s.

Maria scooped up her coins and laid down on the bed, plumping up a pillow and stealing his as well. She slept with him. Practically every night. Much to the destruction of her relationship with her mother, who sort of understood that Maria was concerned about Michael, but that still couldn’t quell her motherly concerns of her daughter in an eighteen year old boy’s basically bachelor apartment. Especially since Maria confessed to her mother that she and Michael were sexually active.

“That night, Michael.” She watched him flinch, but he continued folding the laundry. “How long did I fight you, beg you to stay away from me? Beg for you, Michael, to regain control?”

Michael shrugged. He didn’t know. Wasn’t watching a clock. “I don’t know. Five minutes. Ten.”

“What happened?” Maria watched him beside the bed. His hands faltered. She knew. He knew. They had been both there. He was holding it longer than her. Crazy. She was the one everyone was trying to protect and fix, and yet, Michael was showing all the classical signs of being traumatized, not her. At least he stopped throwing up. Maybe the nausea was finally abating.

“I…” Michael started to hesitate, but dammit, he didn’t have any more ready cash. “I literally chased you around the room, me half naked, and you very much so.” Michael tried to not smile at that. “You threw shit at me, yelling at me, begging me to come back to you.” Michael actually smiled. “You beamed me with a hockey puck.”

“I did.” Maria returned the smile. She had been terrified. Terrified of him and for him, but mostly for them. They had come so far since he came for her in New York City. What they forged there had been so fragile still, but this….this finally created something neither of them knew could be possible. This one moment of violence in their relationship was making them stronger. They survived this, nothing…nothing would ever come between them again. Ever.

“You were crying. Afraid.”

“I was. More than you’ll ever know.” She almost lost him. “Michael, you could have subdued me any time, couldn’t you? You could have overwhelmed me with your alien powers.”

“Yes.” It would’ve been so easy to reach out, push her against the wall, like he had Jesse, hold her in place, and do her. Do anything he wanted with her. Cake.

“You didn’t.” Maria stated simply.

“No.” Michael frowned. Talking. He was sick of talking about it, but he promised her. Until they were both finished with that night, it was the one subject they were forbidden to back away from, pretend it didn’t happen. Any prevarication or avoidance was costly in money.

“Why?”

Michael licked his lips. Why? Good question. He asked himself that very question over and over. Thankful that he hadn’t used his powers against her, but confused as to why his alien self had refrained. It was confusing, even to him. He wasn’t sure he could explain what he felt. “I don’t know. I think that there is something in me that loves that spunk in you, that spirit you have never to give in to me. You…you’re a fighter. I didn’t want to break that. I wanted to tame it, but not break it. I wanted you to admit that you belonged to me. Me…in any form.”

Maria sat up on her knees. She took the laundry from his hands, tossing it in the basket, and then pushing the basket off their bed. Taking his hands, she made him join her on the bed.

“Why did I stop fighting you?”

“I don’t know. God help me, Maria. I don’t know.” Michael could feel the need to cry, to yell, or just throw up. He hurt her. Used her. Put something ugly between them. All this time. All those times, he walked away from her, terrified that his alien side would hurt her, and suddenly it was a slap in the face to realize he had been right. More terrifying, he couldn’t tell if Michael the King was that violent completely from the alien side, or whether nurture of child abuser Hank was adding to his nature. He didn’t know.

“Tell me. Tell me what happened when I stopped fighting. Think, Michael. You know. You were there.”

“I…you were tossing things at me. I grabbed you and brutally kissed you, my fingers were bruising your flesh, and I could taste blood in my mouth from where I bit your lip.”

“And?”

Michael frowned. And? “I said I love you.”

Maria smiled. Yes.

Evil Michael,…the Antarian King, pulled away from the kiss, and he looked at her in the eye and said, ‘I love you’, so plain and simple. No guise. Love him. Love me! We are what we are. A defining moment. She had been afraid. Without really realizing it or acknowledging it, she had been afraid of Michael since that time Billy came and he lost control of his powers. All that time, and suddenly she finally realized what it meant that he was an alien. Before that, she had only seen Michael. Michael. Nothing else.

In New York City, she missed him so much that it didn’t matter. Michael was Michael and she loved him, but from that time both of them harbored a fear of what was hidden in him. He, afraid he would always be a killer like Nasedo, and Maria afraid that she was losing him to his alien side, if not to the evil, at least to the horror it created in Michael realizing what he was capable of. Then came King Michael. He was everything they both had feared and more.

He was still Michael. Evil King Michael would never say anything he didn’t mean. He didn’t have to; he was King. Through all the anger and hatred, the disdain for humans, he loved her. He refused to use his powers on her to bring her to her knees in front of him, to rape her. He laughed as she threw things at him, even after she beamed him with a hockey puck. Standing in a destroyed room covered in broken glass, he said he loved her, and he meant it.

Whatever was in Michael, what lived deep in him, it was one with him and regardless of what and where he went, he had every intention of taking her with him, thick or thin, and despite the fact she was human. She was his mate. He couldn’t make it any more clearer if he tried. Regardless of what he was, he was the one thing she would never have to fear, because he could get angry and rage at her, but he would never lay a hand on her in evil intent or anger.

“What happened next, Michael?” They talked about this. Over and over, and he seemed to never get it, or refused to cut himself a break. Punishment. He was wanting some type of punishment.

Michael scratched his eyebrow. “You kissed me.” Maria’s brow went up to that. She kissed him? Big baby. She molested him. One moment she was staring at him, the next minute, she jumped him. Literally. She jumped into his arms, hers tight around his neck, her mouth devouring his. Want. He wanted her. Regardless of who he was, what he was…he wanted her. It meant more than when he stayed on Earth for her, because he never really talked about it. That was the first time she really knew.

“I did more than kiss you.”

Michael actually smiled at that. They had hit the floor hard. Rolled around on it desperately both trying to get the top. Something in him, something…evil, kinky….whatever loved her hands on his flesh, loved her out of control, violent, and the way her eyes had darkened and almost sparkled. Primitive. It felt primitive.

“I hurt you. I was too rough, and…” There had been blood.

“How did I bleed, Michael?”

The floor. They had rolled over the floor, made it to the bed, fell off the bed a few times, rolled on the floor some more. Rolling around, mating in a fury over crushed glass wasn’t the smartest thing they had ever done. Neither was unprotected sex. They had always been careful to use a condom despite her being on the pill since with his physiology, they just didn’t know how effective the pill was. That night. No.

Michael frowned. She kept doing it. She kept absolving him of blame, and yet, she knew he wasn’t himself. She had been more afraid that he would get away from her, leave. Hurt himself, or someone else, and once he did there would be no coming back from that. It would be like killing Pierce, but worse. The person he killed would have been someone he considered a friend. She tried everything she could to hold him with her in that bedroom. Six hours…maybe longer. Exhaustion. Cut and bruised.

“Michael, how did I lose the most blood?”

Michael picked up her one wrist and stared at it tragically. He was wretched. The scar was there. It looked like she had tried to commit suicide. To get free of the restraint, to get to him before something happened, she almost cut her own wrist off. The binding had cut deep into her wrist. She had bled all over the bed, all over the apartment, and she had passed out from the loss of blood in the bathroom. In the bath, he healed her. Healed most of the damage, but he couldn’t remove the scar, and Maria refused to allow Max to do it. Somehow she knew that if she let Max heal her it would be the last straw in breaking Michael. Max the healer, Michael the destroyer. She lived with it. Michael kissed her hand.

Michael closed his eyes and kissed her wrist. If he had taken any longer to get to her, she could’ve died. Bled to death on his bathroom floor. She had already been dehydrated and concussed.

“I gave you a concussion.”

Maria shrugged. Technically, she gave it to herself. Her head had hit the wall hard, real hard a few times when they were engaged in sex up against the wall. She had woken dizzy and disoriented, nauseated. Her body covered in cuts from rolling around in glass, covered in bruises from his hands and mouth, bite marks from his teeth. His body was equally covered the same. He ignored that. He had left his mark on her, and she had done the same to him.

“You did more than that! I couldn’t walk for a week,” Maria said smugly. Why couldn’t anyone figure it out but her? She tried and tried to explain, but there was only so much she was willing to reveal of their sex life. They had always been adventurous, kinky, and slightly on the edge. That night, they had pushed the envelope. Way beyond the edge.

“I shouldn’t have left you restrained. I know the rules. Never unattended. Never. I wasn’t….myself.”

Maria smiled. He was lying next to her, resting his head on her stomach. She gently feathered her fingers through his hair. It was long and unkempt. He was unkempt. Her mother came to talk to him, scream at him, maybe emasculate him for sleeping with her daughter, terrified of what the scar on her daughter’s wrist meant. One look at him, Amy was quiet. He looked wretched. Ill. After that, she didn’t say anything to Maria about her refusing to leave him alone, afraid of what he would do.

He couldn’t get past that he had left her bound. She would’ve cut off her wrist trying to free herself. The violent rough sex he could almost forgive himself, since she had been a participant. The first five to ten minutes, when she had been non-consensual still pulled on him. He could taste her fear. Her desperation. Her plea to find him. It was a nightmare he lived over and over in his head.

“Why was I tied up, Michael?”

He sighed. “I didn’t want you to leave. I was coming back, and I wanted to make sure you were still here.”

Maria smiled slightly. “That isn’t what I meant. How did I end up tied up in the first place?”

Michael looked at her confused. “It was my turn,” he said simply.

It was true. She started the bondage. Not him. She had tied him to the bed, determined to hold him there, prisoner until she could get the others, and perhaps find a way to fix him. Michael, evil Michael had liked being tied up. His eyes had shone in anticipation, he had a devilish dare in his eyes, and he smiled nothing short of wicked. He let her tie him up, because it was part of sex. She took advantage of that, meaning to restrain him, hold him, to keep him with her safe from the others.

Maria had miscalculated. How was she to know how thrilling it would be to have something as powerful as King Michael under her hands? How could she know what wild fire in the blood felt like? He had a cut on his chest. She had cut him with his own pocket knife, tasted his blood, leaned over him with it on her lips, and then merged their bodies. What started as a plan fast lost all control. It was a rave in her blood, like a fever, with her heart racing out of control, matching the wild beat of his.

He tied her up, because it was his turn to do so. She had fallen asleep, exhausted. Slightly concussed from banging her head against a wall, and loss of blood from all the cuts on her body from the glass. He had woken before her, before she could distract him again, and he left her tied up.

“Rape, Michael is only rape if the victim is unwilling. I was not a victim! I knew exactly what I was doing, and I wasn’t coerced or in anyway forced. I didn’t give in to you because I had no other option.” Maria forced him to look at her. “I love you. I love you regardless of who you are, what you are. Maybe it should matter. I don’t know. I just know that you make my knees shake, you take my breath away, and imagining losing you hurts too much. It’s why I married you….willingly joined with you.”

Michael sat up. Moving up the bed a little, he made her sit up with him. Staring at the scar on her wrist, and the one he still wore on his chest. Marked. They were marked. “That was what it was.” A joining ceremony. Something alien. Something his human side could barely understand, but his alien side seemed to need.

Maria framed his face, kissing him gently, and then not so gently. Biting his lip hard until it bled, she sat back a little waiting for his reaction. His eyes dilated, darkened to a deeper brown, and a part of him seemed to glint through the haze of self-hatred. Michael. He moaned and fell back on the bed taking her with him.

“Two weeks, Michael! Two whole weeks! I am so sexually frustrated I could murder you.” Michael chuckled a little at that. For two weeks he felt impotent. He slept with her, but he didn’t touch her. Not that way. “What makes you afraid, Michael? That you are capable of violence with someone you love? Or that you liked it?

“Maria,” Michael closed his eyes. She already knew the answer. He was impotent in the face of what he desired. Violence. It was part of his nature, barely contained by civility. Humanity was a skin barely covering what raged beneath.

“I know that I loved it. All of it. I dream about it. Want it.” Maria ran her hands over his face. “Like a damn aphrodisiac. It’s all I think about, having you in me, raging. I need it!” Two frickin’ weeks? What? She was supposed to join a damn convent?

“Maria…” He closed his eyes. He hadn’t dared to hope. Fear of asking had held him silent. What if she hated it. Hated him. Thought him a deviant. Or worse. Disgusting.

“Love me,” she whispered against his mouth.

“God, yes.”

It would be okay. They were okay. They faced Michael’s worse fear. They battled the worse he could ever be, his evil alien side. What they were, and what they would become together was forged in fire. Like the hardest of steel, they were two metals tempered in fire, melded together, and pounded into an unbreakable hard edge. Stepping into the unknown, they both learned something valuable. They had nothing to fear from him, from what was part of him. He would never hurt her. He would never leave her. Michael gained something he never expected to have. He gained the knowledge that he could be loved unconditionally. He learned that he could believe.

 

~~~

 

Roswell, presently…..

 

 

“Where are they?”

“Desert. I shook them over three miles back. Double back. Where do they think you are?”

“Library working on a paper.” Maria said. “Lock the damn doors! Put something heavy in front of them.”

“No time. They could be here any moment.”

Maria groaned in irritation. Grabbing Michael hard, she dragged him into the bedroom shedding her clothing in a quick wiggle and shimmer. “Baby, you’re going to have to work fast then! If they interrupt one more time……”

“I’ll kill them.” Michael comfortable that she wouldn’t take that seriously as a real threat.

Michael moved her hard up against the wall, his mouth already on her neck as his shirt went. Maria was frantically unbuttoning his pants. “Sweatpants! Can’t you wear sweatpants?”

“I don’t wear underwear, what else do you want?”

Maria went still, staring at him with an eyebrow rising, Michael laughed and hefted her over his shoulder smacking her ass at her laughter. Their friends were still a problem. It was like open season on babysitting Michael and Maria, and protecting Maria from Michael. At first it was heart touching and appreciated. Now it was obnoxious. Liz rearranged all their work shifts so they were never on together, and always opposite. Max was like a mole in Michael’s apartment.

They tried. Really tried to tell everyone that they were okay. It was okay, but no one listened. Big surprise. They hadn’t listened in three years, it would be breaking a mold for them to start now.

All the watchful nosy Parkers had Michael and Maria scurrying to find time together. Private time. Normally it wouldn’t have been all about sex, but right now….it was. They had so little time together, they rarely had time to sit down and talk. So instead, they found themselves tangling in the sheets, hiding in the backseat of Max’s car. Hitting the Eraser room and break room at the Crashdown. Maria’s house when her mom wasn’t around. Frustration was killing their tolerance. Now they had graduated into techniques of misinformation and misdirection to find time together.

“Thanks for the movie last night?” Maria said sliding her mouth down his body.

Michael moaned. “We went to a movie last night?”

“That dark place we found,” Maria reminded him.

Michael grunted. “What did we see?” Maria shrugged. No clue. It was dark. They were alone. Michael was noisy. She giggled, then her laughter turned to a long drawn out moan as he entered her, pushing her hard against the wall. They rarely made it to the bed any more. Or at least not on the first try.

Or the second.

Usually the third.

Maria was kissing him, perched on his hips….mounting him, slowly moving at a pace that was excruciating. Michael’s eyes were dark, and his hands moved to her hips trying to speed her pace. Moving down over him, Maria reached for the back of the bed above his head to hold tight as she increased her movements, closing her eyes to the sound he made in his throat.

Maria was breathing hard, resting over him, making soft sounds in her throat as his hand moved over the naked skin of her back, their legs entangled with the sheet barely covering their sweat drenched bodies. Michael was whispering her ear, making her laugh softly as he quietly built up a scenario of the others racing around Roswell.

“Yo, peeps! Miss me?”

Michael and Maria froze at the voice. Turning, they looked at the usually closed window separating their bedroom from the living room. Michael had nailed it shut long ago. It was wide open and Rath was leaning in it drinking a Peach Snapple.

Smiling big, he squinted and stuck his tongue at them, laughing. “Great sex! Mind if I join in?”

Michael quickly grabbed the sheet and covered Maria up from Rath’s lecherous eyes. He was making suggestive come hither looks at her.

“How long have you been there?”

Rath shrugged. “The wall.” Rath said. “No, yah just finished the wall, make it the bureau, and then the floor. Definitely just after the wall.”

“You watched?” Michael’s eyes narrowed.

Rath shrugged. “It wuz getting’ good. Didn’t wanna miss anything.” Rath took another drink from the Snapple giving Michael a power sign.

Maria moaned and dived under the sheet, hiding from Rath’s voyeuristic eyes. She nipped Michael on his chest, and groaned in his skin. “You and your family!”

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Pandemonium…

 

Roswell…

 

 

“What are you doing here?”

Rath shrugged and smiled when Maria joined them sitting at the bar while Michael cooked. Rath made a loud howling noise at her and goofy eyes. Maria laughed softly under her breath.

Michael scowled at him. “Stop that! Maria, move away from him. He hasn’t had his shots.”

Rath laughed. “Don’t be that way, G.”

Michael made a noise in his throat. “Maria, toast or fresh?”

“Toast. Dry. Want me to help?”

“I got it, just keep your distance from him.”

Rath looked over at what Michael was doing. “Yah shaking me one too, G?”

“No.”

Maria looked at Rath grimacing. He was so…amused by everything. Damn peeping Tom. “Michael,” she said softly. Michael’s eyes narrowed but he nodded his head. Maybe feeding it might make him spill his guts sooner and leave.

“Fine!” Michael quickly made Rath a sandwich too, not bothering to see if he wanted his bread toasted or not. Michael checked out the clock. Damn. The others will be around soon. They were eating into his quality time with Maria. Michael slammed a plate in front of Rath, who was already eating, talking with his mouth full as he grabbed sandwich stuff and was munching on it. Michael came around, and moved Maria over. He took the seat between her and Rath.

Maria ran her hand comfortingly up his leg, kissing him for making her food. He did that a lot. Since that night, he made sure they stopped and rested, drank juice or something, and usually ate. They weren’t really at a stopping point, but Rath sort of was a killjoy.

Rath happily chewed through his sandwich. Not bad! He was starving. “So,” Rath said looking over at them, talking with his mouth full. “Yah got that alien sex thang going.”

Michael started to make a move on him, but Maria’s hand tightened on his leg.

“Perhaps you tell us why you’re here, Rath,” Maria suggested quietly.

“Visitin’, ya know? Figures yah seen my crib, so what the hell. Roswell seems kinda….um,” Rath scratched his brow reminiscent of Michael “Townie. Nice?”

“Uh huh.” Michael was noncommittal. He continued eating his sandwich noticing as Maria slipped half of hers on his plate. He calmly put it back on her plate. Rath watched them move the half sandwich back and forth.

“I’ll take it.”

“No,” said Michael firmly putting it on Maria’s plate. She sighed and picked it up to finish eating. He was worse than a watchdog. His campaign to get her lost weight back was…sweet.

“Can I have anotha?”

“No.”

Rath scratched his brow again. “Pickle?”

“No.”

“Chips or som’em?”

“No.”

“Notha Snapple?”

“No.”

“A quick three way?”

Michael stood up at that. Maria quickly pulled him back. “Michael, why don’t you go finish cleaning up in the bedroom? I am sure the babysitter’s club will be here soon, and that window needs to be fixed.” Michael wasn’t budging. No way he was leaving her alone with him.

“Michael, really…go. You’re right here. What could happen?”

Rath smirked as Michael glared at him, but he went into the bedroom to clean up the place and nail the window closed again. Not that nails were a deterrent for aliens, obviously.

Maria looked at Rath closely. “You know, I don’t know why you came, and I guess you’ll 411 us when you’re ready. I just want to tell you a few things.” Maria moved closer, even though she knew that Michael would hate that. “Here’s the thing. It has been a little tense around here recently. Very tense.” Maria glanced over to see where Michael was, making sure he was out of hearing range. “Michael is barely pulling through from this last bout of ‘this is my life as an alien,’ so here is the straight up for you. Don’t push him! You understand?”

“I could take him, sista.”

Maria seriously doubted it. “I wouldn’t suggest you try.” Maria moved closer. “He has a scar of Antar…from the crest on his chest.”

“The crest?” Rath looked shocked.

“Max died. Michael became King.”

Rath stood up and paced the room a little. Zan died. He didn’t inherit anything. Closing his eyes, he held on to his anger of being a Dupe, and not a Royal. Proof. It was proof that Michael was the real Commander. Second-in-command. Number two. The heir apparent should the regent die without ward. There had been a chance.

“Rath?” Maria frowned. Michael came back into the room.

Rath looked over at Michael. He walked over to Michael, and moved his shirt to the side. The outline of the crest remained under the scar.

“So it’s true.” Rath stared at Michael dispassionately. “How much power did yah retain?”

Michael glanced at Maria, she quickly shook her head. “Nothing. It reverted back to Max when he took the crest back.”

“Back?” Rath paced the room in a flash of anger. “Yah gave it back?” What? Was he stupid? Maybe he was damaged in re-engineering?

Michael was quiet. He had little choice in the matter. Maria looked at him with great sympathy, but neither would comment.

“Why are you here, Rath. I won’t ask again.”

Rath looked at the two, his face was blank, giving nothing away. Suddenly he smiled with a twinkle in his eyes. “Missed yah?” Michael’s unyielding attitude bugged. “Damn, still a tight ass. Thought the bit….Maria, woulda cured yah of that.” Rath noticed his audience wasn’t charmed. Whatever had happened recently, it seemed to have bled away their better natures. “Fine, I need some help.” Michael’s eyebrow went up at that. Help? Maria wasn’t so stoic.

“Help? What kind of help?”

Rath ignored Michael, and concentrated on Maria. She was more likely to be sympathetic. “I lost my bitch….um, girlfriend. Shellie. I need help getting her back.”

That broke the silence. “You’ve got a girlfriend?” Michael said in disbelief.

“Michael,” Maria admonished lightly. She was a little astounded too. “Shellie? I thought you were with…” Maria paused. “Um, Lonnie, Isabel’s dupe.”

“Naw, she is one whacking bitch. She is red districting, a cunter ho with a jimmy full of flies.”

“Pardon me?” Maria looked at Michael helplessly.

“Lonnie is preparing herself for a life of dick sucking.” Rath said, seeing Maria still frowning. “Prostitution.”

“Oh.” Maria frowned. “Have you ever considered just speaking plain English? I know you can, if it’s to your benefit.” Rath smiled at that. He was good at keeping her from discovering he wasn’t Michael.

Michael was tired. It was late, and soon the goon squad would be back once they discovered Maria wasn’t at the library. “So your girlfriend left you, and you want us to help you get her back?” Michael frowned. “Why should we help you do anything?”

“Coz yah owe me!”

Michael’s face clouded in anger. “Don’t owe you a damn thing! You tried to fuck Maria under false pretenses, pretending to be me. You were repaid for anything I owed you when I didn’t kill your punk ass.”

“Michael…” Maria put a calming hand on his stomach. It was good to see him animated, more Michael like, but the two men were face to face, surprisingly identical despite a few differences, and the room felt….volatile. “Let him explain. Please? He came a long way, so this has to be important.”

Michael stood unyielding, but suddenly nodded reluctantly. Rath did come a long way, and though Michael had no doubt that he was more than able to cause trouble, he doubted Rath was in Roswell for fun and games. Even the last time he had an agenda.

“Fine.” Michael looked at Rath. More alien than him. It turned his stomach. After having a taste of power, and being the potential of what he once was, Rath, his dupe was a hotbed of possible trouble, and that was trouble with a capital T. “You better tell it quick. The others will be here soon, and…”

“No!” Rath looked around. “I waited for just the two of yah. It took forevah for yah to shake your watchdogs. Yah owe me, both of yah for helping yah back togetha. The rest…they got no reason to…”

“Not want you dead?” Michael suggested.

Rath’s eyes narrowed. “That wuz business. The business of surviving.”

“Perhaps they would see having you dead as the business of their continued survival?” Michael allowed more of his anger to slip. “Believe me, they have no problem condemning you to death! They would cut a person they knew forever loose, so I’m sure someone that tried to murder Max before would be easy to want dead. None of them are in anyway attached to our alien side.”

Michael didn’t look at Maria. She accepted his alien side as a part of the whole, but if given a choice, she preferred the human side. He couldn’t say exactly what he preferred. It was confused. He couldn’t divorce the two from each other.

“Maybe this wuz a mistake?” Rath went to leave. He didn’t look back, but he played his last card. “Sorry. Yah told me that I had a right to want more. I tried. I had that. I really did. I wanna get it back. Shellie is that. Yah wuz the only ones I knew that might understand and help me.” Rath reached for the door, allowing his shoulders to sink in dejection.

Michael swore. Maria remained quiet. His decision. His dupe. “Wait.” Rath lifted his bowed head to smile at the door. Righteous. He quickly removed the look and appeared to be reluctantly turning. Giving both Michael and Maria a somber look, he waited.

“If he doesn’t want to the others to know he’s here, he’ll need to leave now, Michael.”

Michael frowned. Maria was right. They were out of time. “Meet us. Tomorrow. Maria and I will ditch school after lunch. We’ll meet you outside town at the turnoff to 285 South. There is a gas station there.”

Rath nodded, and quietly left. Thanking them would’ve been pushing it. He would search Michael’s apartment tomorrow, after they went to school. If he could find what he needed before that, he would ditch Roswell and head back to the City. Otherwise, he was going to need the Commander, or at the very least, Maria to get what he wanted…what he needed.

 

~~~

 

Maria frowned at the tension along Michael’s neck. He was rubbing his forehead. Sitting down, she waited for him to speak or explode. Neither. He remained quiet.

“Headache?” Michael nodded. He was getting them more and more frequently. Ever since he had been King. Maria made a comforting sound in her throat and gestured for him to come to her.

Michael dropped to his knees in front of her, and put his head in her waist, resting his head in her lap, as his hands came up to hold her waist. Maria’s fingers moved over his neck and head in familiar territory, applying pressure against the knotted tissue along his shoulders and neck.

“You’re worried.”

Michael nodded. He moaned as her fingers worked on his stiff neck. “I know him. I’ve got reason to know him. He can’t know how much. Trusting him at face would be a mistake.” He said as he talked into her lap.

“The others?”

Michael shook his head. “They wouldn’t understand him. I believe him when he said he wants to get this girl back, what I don’t believe is that he wants our help.”

Maria moved her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. “What does he want then?”

“To use us. We’ve got something he needs. We have to have. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.”

Maria frowned. “This is a secret, Michael. I’m uncomfortable keeping secrets from the others. That has never done anything but cause problems. Look at Isabel and Jesse.”

Michael had to agree. Since Jesse found out about Isabel, their marriage was slowly disintegrating. Michael tightened his hands on Maria’s waist. He was in part to blame for that as well. He and Max refused to let Isabel tell Jesse before the wedding. Her problems were in part created by Michael and Max’s mandate. The one thing Maria hadn’t said was how keeping his changes from the others cost them when it was too far gone. Max might have been able to retrieve his crest from Michael earlier, long before Michael had warped into evil King Michael, the butcher of Antar. Still, it was a question of degrees, and it was doubtful that either of them would disagree with the outcome.

“Maria, I know we agreed on no more secrets, but this is one time I think we have to do it alone.” Michael looked up at Maria. “If I’m right, Rath is hiding something. He is dangerous. He is capable of so much more than you can imagine, especially if he feels threatened. They couldn’t understand that. Max and them might push Rath into a corner, and like a caged animal, he will strike out.”

Maria’s fingers moved over his cheekbones. “Is that why you didn’t tell him about your powers?” She had felt a natural disquiet about exposing Michael’s nature to anyone, especially to Rath.

Michael put his aching head back in her lap, nodding. Secrets. They had too many of them. Their friends couldn’t understand their relationship now. How could they? Not without Michael and Maria confessing exactly what happened, and neither was willing to expose themselves that much to anyone, not even friends and family.

Michael had retained Max’s powers. All of them. The scar on Maria’s wrist remained because it was meant to be there. Marked. Branded for all time. It was a symbol of her devotion to him, and him alone. A physical proof of how far she would go to save him. Protect him. He couldn’t heal it, something stopped him from completing the healing, and Max perhaps could’ve done it, but it would’ve been like undoing something important between them. Maria made the choice. She wore the scar. The scar on Michael’s chest was the same. It was symbolic of a change. A metamorphosis. It was a scar as brilliant as an eternal flame, and if so easily extinguished, it wouldn’t have been eternal, and much that way, their scars remained.

Max’s powers were one thing. They were awesome, but nothing compared to what Michael gained in the transformation. His own native powers finally completely unlocked. The headaches. It was the final part of the new neuronal pathways melding in his brain, strengthening. Rath, his native alien self was powerful beyond belief. Even Max’s powers didn’t compare, because they were still young, locked. Max hadn’t reached his potential as of yet, and Michael didn’t even know if Max ever would, or Isabel. Not unless they were forced into a transformation. That would require them becoming their past selves, Zan and Vilandra. Allowing their native alien sides to merge with their human side fully.

Rath, his dupe was strong. Michael was stronger. He was the real Royal, and perhaps it was best not to reveal that. Not to Rath. And not to the others. Michael and Maria had remained quiet about exactly what Michael had gained from being King. If Michael, out of control was enough for them to sentence him to death, they might not be comfortable with the full breath of what Michael was. What he became and was capable of.

Michael. He liked it. He loved the control and power of being King. Perhaps that was the greatest part of his shame. He didn’t give it back. It was ripped away. He could’ve killed Max, but something held him back. A thin stream of humanity kept him from murdering his brother, and in that moment he was weakened enough for Max to take back his birthright. Given the option, he would’ve never returned the power. He would’ve killed everything in his path, taken his mate, and began a campaign to rule the Earth as an alien conqueror.

Michael couldn’t deny it. That desire and thirst still raged inside him. As always in his life, he settled for what was given, and accepted what was denied him. Looking at Maria, he couldn’t get far enough inside her. She was the one thing not taken. Not denied. Maria was the one thing given freely. The one thing that he would not trade.

“Maria, if every I laid a hand on you in violence…”

Maria quickly kissed him. “Enough! We are past that. We know…. absolutely know that you would never do so. Never. Not even if you were Rath of the past. What more is there to fear?”

“Losing you.” Michael said burying his head in her lap again. Maria closed her eyes and bent down to kiss the back of his head.

“Not going to happen. Not ever.”

That was how the others found them. Michael kneeling at Maria’s feet, his head in her lap, and Maria bent over kissing the back of his head, her hands moving over him tenderly.

 

~~~

 

“Hi?” Liz’s voice was reluctant, uncertain how Maria would react.

“Hi, Liz. Sit down.” Liz smiled and took a seat across from Maria at the table in the school’s quad area. “What’s up? You’ve got on your Liz Parker serious face.”

Liz smiled and straightened her back. “I won’t ask what that looks like.” Liz fidgeted a little. “Maria, I love you….”

“Love you too, Liz.” Maria said simply.

Liz sighed. Maria wasn’t going to make this easy. “I know that you are angry at us.” Maria calmly listened. She was angry. She would get over it in time, or perhaps not.

“Not really angry, Liz. Not in the way you mean. I want you all to back off and let Michael and I work out our relationship. That’s all.”

Liz stared off across the quad. “I know you do.” Liz bit her lip. “There was so much blood everywhere, Maria. And you….” Liz shut her eyes.

Maria had been barely wrapped in a sheet. Michael was holding her in his arms tight to his body, her one arm had been hanging down draining blood on the floor with her unconscious. Liz remembered walking into the bedroom, seeing that bloodied binding still partially attached to the bed, and evidence of a fight with broken glass and other things all around the room.

Michael had shut them out keeping Maria with him. They all worried how to get her away from him, get her to the hospital. Michael was in the bathroom and the sounds. Liz had sat on the sofa crying with her hands over her ears. She couldn’t listen. Over an hour later, Maria walked out of the bathroom miraculously healed. Only scar remaining was the one on her wrist. Max reached for it, but Maria put her arm behind her refusing to let him look at it.

Michael left the bathroom behind her also only in a towel, and the room went silent when his arm reached out and pulled her back against his body tight. His naked chest told a different story. His back. His arms. Maria had left a lot of marks on Michael. It was hard not to imagine they were done while she tried to stop him from raping her. The room was icy.

Maria had taken his hand, and quietly led him through them. He flinched when they came too close. The bedroom door hadn’t even closed when Michael lost it. The bedroom. It had been a terrible night. A long one. Confusing. Wretched.

“Maria, I know you love Michael, and you said he hadn’t hurt you. Not intentionally. But he wasn’t Michael. He was something else. Murderous. Tell me that whatever took him over isn’t inside him waiting to emerge again. Max’s removing of the crest only pushed that evil…” Liz retracted that quickly at Maria’s look. “…that person back down, but what, or even who knows what could make it emerge again.”

“He’s not evil Max-Clayton, Liz.” Maria said quietly.

Liz quickly looked away, but not before Maria noticed her look. She was red. Blushed. Embarrassed. Liz pretended to be alright with what happened in Vermont. She had thought Max dead, and then there he had been intent on murdering her. It was by fate alone that both she and Max had returned to Roswell unscathed. Almost. Some things took longer to heal. Given that, Maria couldn’t understand why no one wanted to give Michael time to deal with what happened to him.

He was as much of a victim. Or at the very least, unwilling. He didn’t campaign for the crest. It had been endowed to him. No one could have foreseen it.

“He’s not even evil Max-Nasedo.” Maria frowned. Liz had more reason than most to be distrustful of aliens. She was blinded to her own self-interest. She forgave Max everything, but Michael nothing. “He didn’t wig out on me and suddenly starting fucking Isabel to fulfill a destiny either.” Maria noticed how Liz flinched. Max didn’t even have an excuse of being possessed by his former self, Zan, the King when he impregnated Tess.

Maria closed her eyes. When did she ever need to strike out at someone she loved in such a manner? She was starting to react defensively, and it had to stop.

“I’m sorry, Liz. Really. That was unkind, uncalled for, and…not even really me.” Maria grabbed Liz’s hand. “He didn’t rape me, Liz.” Maria licked her lips and then bit it a little. “It wasn’t that way.” Maria’s head was hurting. Placing a hand to her head, she frowned at the headache. “In truth? I did more damage to him.” Maria refused to go into detail, but a month later, the bite mark in Michael’s inner thigh was still black and bruised. His back still had healing gouges from her nails.

Michael liked the violence. He liked the pain. They had to come to an agreement to exactly how far they would go. Everyone was trying to save her from a violent Michael, and yet, she couldn’t explain to them that of the two, she was the dominant one in the relationship, and Michael was the submissive. He seemed to need it that way. Punishment? Atonement? Or perhaps safety to feel no need to hold himself in control? Maria didn’t know. Was it Rath? Or was it a legacy of child abuse?

It took some work, but she finally realized that it was important to him to willingly give to her his control and power over him. His entire life, he felt a victim to some unknown alien destiny, to human authorities, to Hank’s abuse, and to Max’s tyrannical rule. Submitting to her, allowing her to reign in his power was an act of free will. His free will to reach out for what he wanted and desired, and not settle for what he could get.

Rath, the King had all the power he needed, and he taught Michael something. Being Rath, it taught him that he was strong. That his power was his own, and he could comfortably yield, or demand as he deemed. For the first time in his life, Michael Guerin was at no one’s mercy.

“You were afraid, Maria. I heard you when you called. He terrified you.” Liz shook her head at Maria. “Admit it.”

“True. He did. At first, I was more afraid than I have ever been in my life. He was a stranger, but then he wasn’t. I can’t explain, but there is a way that only Michael looks at me when he tells me he loves me. It is solemn. It is honest. It is open, and I swear to you, Liz,” said Maria as she placed her hand over her heart. “When he said he loved me, it was Michael. The only Michael I’ve ever known intimately. It was him. He didn’t coerce me, or threaten, or ever just take by force. He said he loved me, and I could see in him. All the way inside, like looking through a clear window pane. That is my Michael. And he? He, I can’t ever fear, because I know that he has been the one all these years that tried to protect me.”

Liz seemed to mull over what Maria was saying, and suddenly she turned red. “You’re telling me that all that was sex!” The room. The mess. It was the result of them having sex? Liz couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

Maria rolled her eyes, and then looking at Liz, they both started laughing. “No! The broken stuff was me trying to keep bizarre, whacko Michael away….well, most of it. You remember that really ugly lamp that Michael found at the fair over a year ago?” Liz nodded. “He had it on his chest of drawers. I actually broke that intentionally. It was so damn ugly. It the best opportunity I would ever have to get rid of it.”

Liz laughed. Somehow, that sounded exactly like Maria. Her Maria. Since that day, Maria had been different. Closed off to everyone, everyone except Michael. It was hard not to imagine that she hadn’t been raped with how isolated the two kept themselves.

“Oh! And the chair in his room.”

“Chair?”

Maria nodded tossing another grape in her mouth. “That was broken during sex!” Maria watched Liz turn yet another shade of red.

Putting her hands over her ears, Liz begged Maria to stop. “Ugh! No more! I beg you! No more.”

“You asked.”

“I retract my request!”

“I’ve got more details!”

“Maria!” Liz grabbed Maria’s hands, her face begging for a reprieve. “Please, I’m begging you. Keep the details of mating with Michael Guerin to yourself, unless I specifically, and I do mean…..specifically request information about alien sex.”

“Your loss, Chica. I was just getting started.”

Michael watched them laughing from across the quad. It was good to see, but next to him a sign on the wall rattled and then exploded into shards of wood. He was getting too used to having her to himself. Jealousy never felt like this. This wasn’t out of control. He could hold it in check if he wished. This was more territorial.

Michael looked at his watch. He was meeting her in the Eraser room in half an hour so they could take off to find Rath. Now what did that punked out freak want?

 

~~~

 

“Hey,” he said in her ear coming up behind her.

“Michael!” Maria turned around putting her arms around his neck despite being in public and the people staring at them. Michael licked his bottom lip as his eyes dropped to her mouth. Staring at it intensely, Maria tightened her arms around him and lifted on her toes to kiss him.

He took the advantage. Maria groaned in his mouth, and slowly pulled away before he could get more involved. His hand was already reaching for the zipper on the side of her skimpy dress. “God, your legs make me want to beg.”

Maria took his hand. “Follow me! I’ll let you beg all you want.”

Michael laughed and smiled, until he saw people along the way. He scowled at them, his eyes narrowing. Maria looked around before opening the Eraser room door and letting Michael enter first.

Rath stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Michael waiting in the room, and Maria slammed the door behind her as she came inside.

Rath looked at Michael and then turned to look at Maria. “Yah knew?! How did yah know it wuz me?”

 

Chapter Five

 

The setup…

 

“Maria?” Michael said, his eyebrow raising at the sight of Rath looking like him. Rath quickly morphed back into himself.

“I’m fine.” Maria tilted her head at Rath. “I guess Rath decided to find us.”

“Great. Two of us in the same space.” Michael was sitting on the edge of a table in the room flipping a pen around. “Thought you didn’t want anyone to know you were here.”

Rath smirked. Change of plans. He searched Michael’s apartment. No black cone. How the hell did the Betty know that he wasn’t Michael? This made his backup plan harder. Smiling at Maria, he tried to ooze boyish charm.

“Uh huh,” said Maria. She shook her head and went to stand beside Michael. With her back to Rath, she rested a hand on Michael’s shoulder and talked low in his ear while staring over his shoulder. Rath frowned. Michael appeared to be staring at the floor, but it was obvious he was listening to her, and agreeing.

Michael looked at Rath and shook his head. “You want something from us. Perhaps you stop all this planning and tell us. Cut to the chase. Maria and I both have school and work, so we have limited time to fool around.”

“Lonnie took Shellie.”

Lonnie. Michael remembered her well. Lonnie made him appreciate Isabel more. “And this involves us how?”

Rath noticed Michael’s one hand was resting on Maria’s waist. They touch. All the time. Since he first got there, he noticed it in passing, but yesterday, Maria’s hand stayed on his thigh. “I’m not gonna get her alone, am I?”

“No.”

Rath’s face darkened moving the façade of charm away. “The two of you ain’t cooperating. I shudda hit the dickless King and his piece. That wudda been easier.”

“Try being straight up. You want our help, then ask. If you’re going to try to manipulate us into something, then take a hike.”

Maria looked at her watch. If they weren’t going to play Rath’s game, and didn’t have to find him, then she was going to class. “What he is saying Rath, is stop trying to find a way of kidnapping me so you have a bargaining chip to get what you want. First, he’s not letting you that close to me. Second, you couldn’t find a place to hide me that he couldn’t find. And finally, stop it!”

Rath tried to get his attention away from her legs and ass. She interrupted his thoughts. “Huh?”

“Stop undressing me!” Frickin’ pervert.

“How…” Rath scowled. How did she know? Damn. It was just a little mental play to keep his shit tight.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Hello, dated this guy for three years. I know when my clothes are being ripped off mentally.” Maria kissed Michael quickly. “You going to take care of this?”

“Yeah, go. I’ll pick you up after your last class.” Maria kissed him again slowly with lots of tongue ignoring Rath. Leaning into him, she whispered, “What a waste of good Eraser room time.” Michael laughed at that. She was good. Reading his mind now.

Rath was quiet as Maria left them. Seeing Maria with Michael, he suddenly remembered what this was all about. Shellie. He wanted his special piece back. Rath scratched his brow as it furled.

“You look confused.” Michael said.

“What? Naw. I wuz…it’s just that seeing yah with her reminds me of Shell, and ….” Rath frowned again. He couldn’t say what it was. His stomach hurt. He actually felt sick. Maybe it was his breakfast he ate at Michael’s. He thought some of that shit he garbaged down looked a little green.

“Lonely. It’s called feeling lonely.” Michael watched Rath in interest. He was different from him, but in so many ways the same. After his stint as King, he suddenly could see all the places that he and Rath shared. There were too many, too numerous.

“Let’s split before someone sees us. We better go separate. Meet me at my place.” Michael said nodding to Rath, and he was out the door. Something about hanging out in the Eraser room with Rath just icked him.

Rath watched the door shut, and he lifted a brow. Uh oh. The apartment. He sort of made a little mess there. Important thing was that Maria had the same taste in undies that Shellie did. Rath took himself off working on his mental prowess.

Shellie and Maria in matching thongs nothing else, taking care of his every need, and calling him King. Oh yeah. Hmm. MmmmMmmm. Rath quickly edited his latest fantasy to include a eunuch Michael standing guard in a skimpy leather thong and harness, oiled down skin, and a mean look on his face. Cool. Maybe he could have a water canon to spray the belligerent Michael with occasionally. Rath was so happy with his thoughts he grabbed a girl coming out of the band room, roughed her up against the wall, kissed the snot out of her after slapping her ample ass. So what if he still looked like Michael. He made a nice loud howling sound on his way out of the school. Who’s the man? Hehe.

 

~~~

 

“Michael!”

Shit. Well twiddle fucking dumb! Another day in Roswell. Michael reluctantly waited for Max.

“Maxwell.” Michael's noncommittal response was hard to ignore.

Max paused. Michael looked irritated. Max laughed at himself. Who was he kidding? Michael always looked irritated, with maybe the exception of Maria, and even with her at times. Max wasn’t sure what to say. He was still sleeping at Michael’s, but lately it had been uncomfortable with Maria living there, and both her and Michael wanting him to give them space.

It wasn’t just about sex either. At first Max was sure it was. He wanted to get Maria free of Michael, but the more the rest of them tried to separate the couple, the firmer they held together. Max watched them the other night watching TV. Maria had been reading through a magazine asking Michael questions on a quiz while he watched a game. It was strange to see them so normal, unconcerned when everyone else was acting different.

“Can we talk?”

“Do I have a choice?” Michael rolled his eyes at his own defensive tone. “Not right now. I was on my way home to pick up something. I need to get going so I can get back and pick up Maria after her last class.”

Max frowned. That was it. They rarely let the other out of their sight. Touchstone. They were each other’s touchstone. “Michael, I don’t know this is healthy. I think you need to take some space from Maria, and maybe she needs a little space from you.”

Michael seemed to be thinking about it. “Is this something Maria told you? That she needs space from me? I sure as hell know I didn’t tell you that.”

“No. I just think…”

“Then don’t! You are meddling in something you can’t understand.” Michael bit his mouth inside to control his raging anger. “I can’t apologize enough for that night. It’s over. You need to walk on, Maxwell. It happened to me and Maria. We are good. We’re better than good.” God, so much better than good. He didn’t know…he couldn’t have known.

“I know she said that it wasn’t what it looked like, but…”

“No buts here, Max. Ask me! Whatever you think you know….well it is wrong unless you ask me or Maria. We know. Only we do. So ask me.”

This wasn’t going well. “Did you rape, Maria?” The question stuck in his throat. Max didn’t want to know. Not really. Helpless. The thought left him helpless.

“Yes. In my mind. Yes. I wasn’t who I should have been. Who Maria was expecting. I was different, so in that way, yes. But, physically. Literally. Practically?” Michael should’ve known. It would never go away. Never end. Not unless they talked and explained. Their word wasn’t enough. “No. I didn’t rape her. I didn’t use her. I…” Michael shook his head. Words. There were no words for what he felt that night. Power. Possession. Ownership. Territorial. Strong….so many things flooding inward at once. Then Maria, there was Maria.

He saw her. How he always saw her. His universe. His world. His salvation. Something he never expected, most of the time hadn’t wanted, until he was honest with himself, then he admitted there was nothing he wanted more. From the first moment, it was her, only her, and it didn’t matter where he went, who he became….she was there. Inside him. Like a deep ache. A longing. A comfort. A source of warmth and wonder. She was everything.

I love you. He said it. It just came out without thought. One moment he was chuckling at her, how feisty she was, and what a good arm she had as she picked up things in his room and lopped them at his head forcing him to dodge as glass hit walls and shattered. Her mouth never stopping. Half the time she was trying to get the Michael she knew to talk to her, take back control. The other half, she had a running commentary on the insanity of involvement with the Czechoslovakian class. With power and rage running through his veins, he actually laughed in amusement. Happy. That moment he realized that no matter how insane and crazy their worlds became, or she was, it didn’t matter. She made him happy.

Did she ever shut up? The answer was no. Only when she slept. Sex usually came with a running commentary of words and sounds. Maria DeLuca was one vocal woman. His.

Nothing could’ve shocked him more when she dropped what was in her hands, and kissed him. More than kissed him, she pushed him on the floor. Mated with him on a bed of glass, literally fucked his brains out. Everywhere. Anywhere. He knew what she was doing when she tied him up. It was in her eyes. He could see her working out a problem. How to contain him. How to keep him from causing trouble, and keep him from being hurt. Smiling, he let her contain him. It was a pleasure to watch her tongue come out as she concentrated on binding him to the bed, to keep the bind tight enough to hold, but not too tight to cut off circulation.

Michael smiled. He remembered the moment she sat back and observed her handy work. Him. Bound. Powerful. Under her control. Maria’s eyes changed. They darkened. The usual brilliant green took on a darker sage, and her hands went up over his chest. They were both bleeding. He could feel small slivers of glass in his skin, and he was sure Maria had more than a few as well. Bruises from wild intense sex, the glass, falling from the bed, a broken chair, and up against the wall.

“You’re bleeding.” Michael raised an eyebrow. They didn’t hurt. Smarted. A little edge. Felt good.

“I like blood.” Michael’s eyes darkened as well as the golden brown became more intense. “So you’ve got me, what are you going to do now?”

Maria’s breath hitched. “Anything I want.” Lowering her mouth to his chest, her mouth kissed a small bleeding cut. He felt it. Completely through his body. To his toes. Her mouth sucking on his bleeding flesh. Through narrowed lids, he watched her. “Taste you.”

“Drink more,” he said, his voice deeper and husky.

Maria sat up. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Despite the binding of his hands, he lifted his torso and self up to her. “In a joining there is always pain. Always blood. Always viscous body fluids. In pain we’re born. In pain we’re joined. In pain we’re forged.” Michael kissed her, falling back when the amount of effort to hold his body upward was spent. “Do you feel the power, my Queen? My love. My Maria? Are we to join for an eternity?”

Maria licked her lips, nervously. Too afraid to say no to something she wanted, but more afraid of saying yes. “What are you offering me?”

Michael’s mouth drew at the side, a smile pulling. “Me. All of me. I’m giving you my power.”

“Giving? Your power? Forever?”

“Shared.” He couldn’t let her walk away from the gift. “Ask yourself what you want? I’m giving you my heart, my soul, my will to have myself under your hands. Joined.” Maria moaned and leaned over him.

“I can’t. You’re not yourself.”

Michael put his head back closing his eyes and sighing. She was afraid of abusing his condition, his altered state. Smiling evilly, a devil inside, but Michael none the less. “You’re confused. Did you think I’m not Michael? Maria!” Forcing her to look at him, Michael went serious. “Kiss me. Kiss me and tell me what you feel.”

Maria bit her mouth painfully. It hurt. So much. Him. Under her hands. A promise of eternity, fidelity, and love. All the things she wanted from Michael, so many she already had, or thought she had, but with him it was always hard. Michael wasn’t forthcoming with words. He never was. Now he was offering her more. Any idiot could see it. He was offering her more than an idea of being soul mates or lovers, he was offering more than just love. Merging. A joining.

“I can’t! I want to, but….” Maria’s nails bit into Michael’s skin, he winced and moaned in pleasure at the same. She couldn’t do what she wasn’t sure her Michael would want. Would he want to be joined to her? He barely liked being human at times. She nagged. He avoided. They were like a comedy of errors.

“Maria.” Her name was a low throaty moan. “Maria, baby, kiss me. You’ll see. Kiss me!” Their faces were only separated by a few little inches. Michael was able to feel Maria's soft breath on his face. “Kiss me. I want it. Need it.”

Michael lifted up until their lips completely met as he slid his tongue between Maria’s lips, immediately invaded by a myriad of sensations. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she followed him down back to the bed. Laughing softly in triumph, he plunged deeply into the kiss, his tongue ravishing her mouth as if there were no tomorrow.

Maria replied with her soul, playing with his tongue, allowing him to lead as he let her inside. Michael. It was Michael. Like the first time. It was always felt like the very first time. He was Michael, her Michael, and more. How she saw and felt him was the same, but now there was a cleanness to the image. Sharp edges. Pristine.

“Take my power. Cut me and taste it,” he tempted her. Michael’s eyes darted to the bedside, to his pocket knife lying there. “Maria.” She had to do it. He was bound. A smile played around his mouth as a dare entered his eyes. Do it. Do me.

Maria took the knife, and in almost a slow motion, her eyes followed the line of the blade as it sliced into his flesh, crossing over already bleeding cuts, a long line of blood beading up along the margins. Tossing the knife away, uncaring where it landed, her mouth moved over his torn flesh, the blood pooling on her lips. Leaning over him, her mouth a mere breath from his as the blood dripped from her lips to his, and she moaned at his reaction.

“Yes!” Michael laughed. The serge.

Their mouths merged as did their bodies. Both of them moving in the sheets at a wild and intense beat. Her hands went to his bound wrists, holding him hard under her control as they stared at each other, their bodies mated, joined, and merging. Maria’s eyes closed as the rush ran through her, and her skin became luminescent, glowing in power. Maria suddenly sat back on him. Her mouth open in shock as her breasts moved up and down from the wild panting of her breath. Her eyes were dilated. Reaching down, her hands pushed firmly on his stomach holding herself upright. She was dizzy. Disoriented.

“You want more?”

Maria’s hands curled into his flesh, as her eyes constricted and took in the sight of his bloodied body beneath her. The rushing of his power was running hot in her body. “Yes! I want more!” Maria reached over and untied his hands needing his hands on her. He sat up and pulled her even tighter into his body.

“Hold on to me. Don’t let go! This is going to hurt a little.” Michael kissed her deeply, holding her firmly to his body as they moved together, then he opened the gate and let his power run between them unhindered. Maria’s scream was lost in his own.

Four hours of dark time. It took that long for their burned out senses to finally come back, and during that time they had mated uncontrolled. Their bodies hurt and they were bruised in places they never knew existed. Maria laughed, then groaned when Michael moved her under him on the bed. He rested his pounding head on her breasts and sighed at the feel of her hand moving over his neck. They were both dripping in sweat. Exhausted. The bed was wet from the semen and blood.

“Michael…”

“Are you okay?” Maria nodded. Michael groaned, his eyes looked up at the ties still hanging from the bed. He reached over and took one, his eyes twinkling in mischief. Maria looked at the binding she had tied him up with earlier. “My turn?”

“Oh baby, you’re so good when you’re bad,” Maria said laughing.

 

~~~

 

“Michael!”

Max’s voice was irritated. Michael pulled himself from his thoughts and frowned. He didn’t have time to waste with Max right now trying to explain to him something that couldn’t be explained unless it was experienced.

“It wasn’t rape, okay?” Michael grimaced. He was finally accepting that too, but damn it was violent. Maybe intense was a better word for it. They had played with a little bondage before, but that was child’s play compared to where they were today. Blood. It ran strong between them. He dumped his power in her, moved through her until she tasted like him. Merged. “It was…” Michael shook his head. He couldn’t say. He couldn’t. It was no one else’s fucking business. Theirs. Only theirs.

“Michael, maybe if you could back off a little. Talk her into going home for a few days. Remember she actually has a home with a mother.”

Michael stopped. “Is that what it’s going to take? Me sending her away?” Michael couldn’t believe it. Again. Max was pushing him to let Maria go. “If I send her home, you’ll back off on this? Then rape is okay as long as we obey?”

“It’s not obeying, Michael. And it’s not rape. Both of you said it wasn’t.”

“Okay. Fine. It wasn’t.” Michael’s eyes narrowed in anger. He could feel it rising in his gut. “So if it wasn’t rape, then why the hell do we need to back off from each other? Why? Is it because Maria and I are more intimate and closer than you and Liz? What? Isn’t that allowed?”

“It’s not that! I’m thinking…we, Isabel and I were thinking that you can’t know how all this is affecting Maria, physically and mentally, and perhaps…”

Michael interrupted Max. “You know. You’re right! I need some time alone. I think it’s time to back away. But I’m not talking about Maria, Max. I’m talking about you! I want you out of my apartment. Today. Go get your own crib or sleep at Isabel’s. I don’t care. Maybe sleep at Liz’s. I’ve taken a lot of interference, but I’m sick of it.”

Michael didn’t wait for Max’s response. He was late, and his headache was worse, and now he had to go deal with yet another headache.

 

~~~

 

“What took yah so long, G?”

Michael stopped in his doorway. Fuck! Holy shit. The place was a wreck. “What the hell happened here?”

“What?” Rath looked around innocently. “I made a snack.”

“The place is trashed!”

“Maybe yah wuz robbed, man. Call 5-0. I’ll wait over here.”

Michael grabbed a trash can and shoved it at Rath. “I don’t know what your beef is or what is going on….yet. I stress the word, yet! But, you trash my place, you pick up after yourself. I am sick of people using my home like a damn bus station.”

Rath looked at the trash can in his hand. “What’s this for?”

“Clean! You know how to clean?”

Shit. Rath shrugged. Everyone wanted him to clean. What? Did he look like a frickin’ maid?

Michael ignored him and looked at the clock. Damn. He was going to be late. She was going to be pissed. He needed to call her despite her being in class. Michael quickly dialed.

It took a few persistent rings before she responded.

“Class! I’m in class, buddy! I’m in so much trouble for walking out.”

“Sorry. A pierced tattooed freak tossed my place.”

Maria was quiet. “What is he looking for? Did he say.”

Michael snorted. “Best I can get out of him is how uptight I am, and him smiling like a damn idiot. Half the time I can’t understand a damn thing he says.” Michael looked over at Rath who was mumbling to himself. He found a pair of Maria’s underwear in the sofa. Whistling, Michael watched Rath pocket them. Shaking his head, he went over and snatched them from Rath’s pocket, pushing them into his own. “Clean! Don’t touch!”

“What? What’s going on?”

“Nothing you want to know. Believe me.” Michael rubbed his forehead. “I don’t want to leave circus show here alone, can you find your way home?”

“You betcha. I’ve got a special errand I need to run anyway.” Maria leaned against the wall she was standing next to. “So, whatcha gonna do while I am slaving in school? Get rid of the punk on steroids, strip and I’ll meet you under the sheets.”

“Uh uh. Max is coming over to get his shit out of my place, and I need to stash the loon boy. Just come and run interference, and I’ll pay you back in hide.”

“My man!” Maria blew him a kiss over the phone, laughing at what she imagined would be a disgusted look on Michael’s face. “Bye! See yah!”

 

~~~

 

Michael stood with his shoulder against the closet holding it closed.

“I think we should talk about this.”

Michael shrugged. “What? Your mooching off me? You don’t contribute to rent, utilities or food. I have lost my privacy, and now you want to tell me how to run my intimate life. What’s to talk about, Maxwell? Go ruin Isabel’s life for a while…., Oh! Wait,” Michael paused for effect. “Forgot, you already did that!”

“Michael…”

Michael shut his eyes. He needed a nap. The door moved under his shoulder, and he added pressure to it. “Look, Max. I’m not angry or pissed or anything. I am tired. I need some space. You were right about that. I’m not King. You are. I didn’t think that your being King meant I had to give over my whole damn life to you. You’re out on your own. You’ve got a job. Find a place. I did it over two years ago. I’m sure you can do the same, being how you have such better grades than me, a better reputation and outstanding family.”

“This is you getting even.”

Maria came into the room carrying a few bags of groceries. “What’s going on?”

“Max was just leaving. Isabel is having a hard time, and he thought it was time for him to spend some quality time with her and Jesse.”

“Oh, that should be fun.” Maria looked between Max and Michael. Shrugging, she went to put away the groceries. Not her business. Or at least not yet. She would work on Michael later to make amends with Max. Max waved at her on his way out.

“Can’t I at least have my jacket?” Max asked motioning towards the closet.

“It’s a balmy night. I’ll bring it to you later,” said Michael holding the door closed as a hidden Rath pushed on it again. Smiling, Michael gestured for Max to scram.

“Oh,” said Maria. “There was so much wrong with that, Spaceboy, I’m not even going to go into detail. I know we needed him gone, but couldn’t you have found a better way to do it? A nicer way?”

“No,” said Michael emphatically. “Max doesn’t take hints. Not even big ones armed with nuclear bombs. Subtle is lost on him. It’s better, and somehow, much more rewarding this way.”

“How do you sleep at night?” Maria asked as Michael stopped leaning on the door. The door came open, and Michael put a hand on it and slammed it shut.

“Generally on my stomach with you on top of me. I like it that way.”

Maria smiled at that, slightly gesturing to the closet door. “You going to let the Beaver out of there, Ward.”

“Gosh, don’t know, June. Seems the Beav has been a bad boy lately. Trashing my home and all. Stealing your underwear,” Michael added smiling at the look of outrage on Maria’s face, so he decided to add a little fire. “Smelling them.”

“Oh! Ward, I think it’s time you start considering punishment for the Beav.”

Michael laughed when Rath’s voice wandered out from the closet. “Hey, Yo! Peeps! Yah gonna let me out or what? Or shudda I just pee in here.”

“God! Let him out!”

Michael stopped holding the door and walked away with Maria. They went to put away groceries when Rath fell through the door. Picking himself up quickly he looked at his two hosts. Smiling, he bee-lined for the groceries.

“Righteous! Food. Damn, the grub been a wanting, G.  Good to see the Betty has good sense to hit the Save-a-Lot.”

Maria pulled the bag away from Rath. “I thought you had to pee?”

“Oh, naw. I was just fronting. Gonna give me a peek?” He gestured to the bag. Maria pushed it over to him.

“I think you’ve pretty much peeked enough,” said Michael frowning at a box Maria took from a special bag. “What you got, Maria?”

Maria took a deep breath and held up the box. First Alert pregnancy test.