Roswell Fanatics

Firstly, I need to apologize for my lack of posting. I forgot to drop a note saying I was away on vacation – sorry, you guys.

Secondly, I hope you all have had an amazing couple of weeks.

Carolyn: Thanks for your constant feedback, I really appreciate it. And I love Maria and Liz's easy friendship too.

Chapter 31.

The nondescript black car drove to San Pedro Bay, where Mason’s informant had disclosed Vincent D’Angelo would be that evening, making a deal with a local drug cartel.

Maria watched Max’s right leg twitched with nervous energy as the car traveled down the highway. Eventually, she reached over and placed her hand on his knee, stilling his movement gently.

Max looked at her hand and then up to meet her gaze.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she said simply. “Quit it.”

Max flashed her a weak smile. He loved how blunt she was, and how she wasn't one to offer false condolences. That wasn't who Maria Deluca was. Even though he knew she knew how emotional he must feel at the moment he was about to face his parents' murderer and was trying to focus on what was about to go down, she didn't offer him words of comfort or coddle him. She was straight to the point, and he appreciated that.

His hand moved to cover hers, and he squeezed her fingers affectionately, unsure what to say to her.


They drove in silence until they approached the large iron gates, which signaled they were about to enter one of the large shipyards in San Pedro Bay.

“He's supposed to be over in the northwest corner,” Max informed his fellow agents. Sean nodded once in acknowledgment and maneuvered the car behind one of the large shipping containers, hiding the vehicle from view.

They climbed from the car and grouped together, each looking at the others before Max said, “Guys, I appreciate you all being here. There isn't another group of people I would want with me on this.”

Michael, Maria, and Sean all mumbled their dismissals at his sentimental words.

“But I have to stress,” Max continued, meeting them each with a steely gaze before continuing. “This kill is mine.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Maria grinned, checking the magazine in her PPK and the extra magazine which was safety tucked into her jeans back pocket.

Michael and Sean did the same while Max pulled two Berettas out of a double holster strapped across his torso.

With one gun, he checked the magazine like his colleagues, but with the other, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single bullet.

This was his bullet; the bullet he made during his training for The Company, the bullet he would use to take the life of his parents' killer.

He pressed it into an empty magazine and slid the magazine into the empty Beretta before tucking it into the holster under his arm.

Michael, Maria, and Sean watched him solemnly, knowing that this was a poignant moment for Max and understanding the emotions that must be coursing through him right now.

Michael thought about his father, and if what Mason told him was true, his death at the hands of another. He had yet to look further into his father's death, having trusted that the medical examiner's report of an accidental death on a construction site was nothing but the truth.

Now, he had doubts, and whenever his fingers grazed across the bullet he had made with Max's expert tuition, which was currently laid under his socks in his drawer in the room he shared with Maria, he wondered if he would get the chance to face his father's killer, and he wondered briefly who he would use his bullet on.
The one who took his father from him, or the bastard who haunted Maria's dreams?

Maria knew who her bullet was headed for without question. She would strike down her parents' killer, she had no doubt about that. It was just a matter of waiting, and while she wasn't normally a patient girl, she could wait for this to be done right.

Sean shifted his eyes around the area, refusing to give voice to his internal thoughts of his own vengeance needs. Whenever he did, images of an abused Maria would fill his mind and they were something he would gladly never see again. He just knew that between himself and his cousin, and now this new man in her life, they would see him dead. “Ok guys. Let's get this thing moving. You ready, Max?”

Max nodded his head firmly with determination.

Sean lifted his wrist almost to his lips and whispered. “Are you there, Alex?”

“Yep, I'm here, and I have your coordinates locked into a GPS system should you need assistance,” Alex's cool tones floated into the four agents' ears.

“Oh, he of little faith,” Maria grinned again. “Requiring back up is something I don't do.”

“Apart from last time when we were cornered in that alley,” Michael offered with a cheeky half smile.

“Or that time you took a bullet in your thigh and needed immediate extraction,” Max added.

“How about the time you and Dean had to hole up in that dingy...” Sean stopped at Maria's quick jab to his ribs. Her eyes narrowed, and he could almost hear her cursing him and probably his manhood, too.

Michael flicked his gaze between Sean and Maria, knowing there was more to this story and not really sure if he wanted to hear it.

“Can you two have this conversation at home?” Max asked, anxious to start and finish this mission.

“Sure we can, Max,” Michael returned, his eyes on Maria.

“Yeah, and Sean can spring for dinner at Providence tomorrow night,” Maria added, fulfilling her and Sean's tradition of making plans for after a mission.

“Deal,” Sean grinned to her.

The group moved off together, heading out to meet a killer.

Max took control of the situation immediately, sending Sean and Maria down one corridor made from the large shipping containers in the area, while he and Michael headed in the opposite direction, leading the team around the perimeter, circling D'Angelo and his men, who were monitoring the area to keep their boss safe. The security detail for the head of the drug cartel was equally as attentive to the area around them.

They moved in perfect coordination, the new technology from Alex proving most useful and it wasn't long before Max signaled for them to move in after they had effectively surrounded D'Angelo and his men, as well as the men they were meeting, without notice. Sean and Maria were standing to the southeast end of the clearing while Max and Michael were on the northwest end. They watched as D'Angelo and his men moved into the clearing between several shipping containers, and Max signaled for their action.

D'Angelo's lackeys were stunned when the four figures erupted into the clearing, and they drew their guns on instinct. However, four of the men fell almost instantly as each of the agents fired a shot, their bullets hitting their targets perfectly before they turned their guns on the remaining ten men left in the clearing, who were slowly backing into a circle, their weapons raised and prepared for another attack from any angle as the four agents slunk back into the shadows.

The ten members of the drug cartel D'Angelo had arranged to meet drew their own weapons, as well, and formed their own circle, unsure who their new assailants were but ready to fight whoever was attempting to stop the deal their boss had struck with the mob boss.

Their leader, a surprisingly short Hispanic man who was in his mid-twenties turned to D'Angelo, his eyes flashing accusingly as he trained his gun on the taller man.

D'Angelo himself looked bewildered, and he pulled his own gun on the drug leader, thinking the man was double-crossing him.

“These ain't my people,” the cartel leader spat out, re-aiming his own firearm at the mob boss.

“Well, since they are killing my men, they definitely aren't mine,” D'Angelo returned coolly.

A second or two passed before they both turned their weapons on the agents, who had regathered and were advancing as a team on the group of men standing in the middle of the clearing confidently, guns drawn and ready for action.

The cartel leader noticed these new people were paying more attention to D'Angelo's men than his own, so he signaled to his gang and they slunk back into the night and away from the fighting, recognizing this was not their fight. He remained intrigued however by the four figures taking on the might of the mob boss, one of them most obviously a woman, and he and his men stayed concealed in the darkness, watching.

Max made his way through the men, Michael, Sean, and Maria clearing a path for him using whatever skills they could, fighting hand to hand mostly, and then he was standing in front of the person who had taken his parents' lives.

Max studied the killer for a moment. Vincent D'Angelo was of average height and his black hair slicked back. He was a little overweight, but he clearly used that to his advantage to intimidate people. Max's upper lip curled up at the sight of the man, and using his loaded gun, he smacked D'Angelo's hand holding his weapon, sending the pistol clattering to the concrete.

Max shoved the loaded gun back in its holster and switched his gun, pulling the gun that was loaded with the signal bullet out from his other holster and leveling it at his opponent as the sounds of gunfire faded from his ears, all his thoughts on the man before him.

His face was like stone as Max looked D'Angelo in the eye.

“Phillip and Diane Evans,” Max said softly.

“What?” D'Angelo asked, clearly confused and surprised.

“This is for their lives, which you stole,” Max ground out, raising his gun to the mob boss' forehead, staring at him for another moment before pulling the trigger, the sound of the gun firing filling his senses.

A single shot to the middle of his forehead was all it took for the crime boss to fall. As Max stood over the dead body of his parents' killer, he felt nothing. No elation that the man was dead, no feeling of closure for himself or his sister, just a sense of disgust at the pain and misery this man had put countless people and families through.

The sound of additional gunfire jolted him from his thoughts and he quickly switched guns and spun on his heel, ready to fight with his friends, his family.

Now that the target was down, the group reassembled, and the command seemed to revert back to Maria, who indicated her instructions to the guys in a series of hand movements, and they followed without hesitation.

She sent Sean and Max down one side of the bulk of steel in front of them while she and Michael progressed down the other, effectively splitting the usual teams as they made their way back to the car in an escape from the gunfire, which seemed to be coming out of the darkness after they had eliminated some of D'Angelo's men.

She loved the ease in which she and Michael worked together. While it was effortless with Sean, as they had been partners since both joining The Company and been partners in crime in their youth, the synergy she had with Michael was something else. It was like they were almost communicating internally, knowing instinctively where the other was and using that to their advantage as they fled.

Maria and Michael slammed on their breaks when they found themselves in the middle of a fight, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Six men approached from the darkness, and the two agents were easily surrounded by the group of D'Angelo's men who were obviously trying to fight their way out of the situation and who still felt loyalty to their now-dead boss, hoping to extract some kind of revenge on two of the four agents who had brought about the man's premature death.

Sean and Max came across them in the middle of the fight, and they watched with fascination as the two agents dispatched their foes effortlessly, moving in tandem with one another.

The two moved as one as they fought their opponents. Maria twisted herself around Michael as he moved with ease into a different stance to aid her as she planted her foot high on his thigh, springing off him to slam her elbow into the face of an enemy who was approaching them. As soon as Maria was airborne, Michael turned and smashed his fist intot he face of a beefy man who seemed to think that Michael's distraction by Maria was the opportune time to attempt to take him down.

Sean was again reminded that it was only a matter of time before his partner was taken from him.
So mesmerized were Sean and Max that they didn't realize Michael and Maria were heading in their direction at a full run until Maria shouted to them as she sped past, “You wanna die?”

Maria didn't realize the moment the group separated again, she just knew one minute the four of them were together, then the next, she and Sean were again on one side of the containers, and Michael and Max somewhere else as they moved down the corridor as quickly as possible in their attempt to make it back to the car unscathed.

She turned at the last minute as a bullet whizzed past her, taking a chunk of skin from her arm as it continued its trajectory into the side of one of the shipping containers, hitting the metal with a dull ping before clattering to the ground.

“Shit,” she hissed, glancing down at the raw wound and the blood now trailing down her arm, feeling a little nauseous at the sight of her blood spilling onto the ground.

Without another thought, both Sean and Maria raised their weapons and spun around, firing in the direction of their enemies as they crouched close to the ground, using the shipping containers to their advantage and staying low.

“You ok?” Sean asked, his eyes trained on the small group of heavy-set men running to find cover from the rounds fired at them by Sean and Maria behind the large shipping containers a short distance in front of them.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, shaking off the stinging and burning sensation now radiating up to her shoulder as she lifted her PPK back to shoulder height, moving forward once again before hiding behind a couple of oil drums stacked on top of each other for cover as she heard another burst of gunfire.

“Who invited the extra bad guys?” she asked him when he slammed down next to her, taking cover from another flying bullet, her voice dripping with sarcasm, which was not lost on Sean.

Sean raised his arm and spoke in to the tiny mic attached to the leather strap wrapped around his wrist.
“Alex, Maria is getting a little testy. Wants to know who the fuck is coordinating this little shindig, where the hell Michael and Max are, and why is our communications are failing?”

“Tell Maria to cool her jets. I have an extra team heading out to you now,” Alex’s soothing tone erupted into Maria’s ear.

Maria mumbled something low, and Sean snickered, saying into the mic, “I think she just cursed your first born in a foreign language.”

“Always the lady,” Alex laughed into her ear.

Maria lifted her own wrist to her lips. “Hey, less of the lady,” she smiled, even though Alex couldn’t see her, then swore as another bullet flew past her and clanged into the shipping container about four feet from where she and Sean were hidden.

“How the hell did we end up hiding?” she moaned before adding. “We don’t hide. I don’t hide. C’mon, Sean, we can take them.”

“Maria, we’ve been over this,” Sean sighed, his patience being tested by his little cousin. “I’m not completely ready to go rushing into a gun fight with possibly ten guys with only two of us and two guns.”
Maria looked back over her shoulder, her gun ready at her shoulder. “Where the fuck are Michael and Max?”

“We’re not far, Blondie,” she heard in her ear. She had forgotten about the mic attached to her wrist. “Keep your panties on.”

“Well, I would if I had any on in the first place,” she flirted into the mic, forgetting their quandary for a moment.

“Maria!” Alex’s stern voice filtered through the earwig.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled. “Work now, play later.”

She inched around the oil drums, peering through the dim lighting and pointing her PPK in the direction where she envisioned her enemies, narrowing her eyes as the shapes of their opponents came into her vision, hidden beneath the shroud of darkness but partially seen because of the dim orange lights shining around the shipyard.

“We can take them,” she goaded Sean. “I’ll take the six on the right, you can have the few on the left.”

“Haven’t you emptied half your mag, Maria?” Sean queried.

Maria looked down at her gun as though it had betrayed her and cursed “Maybe I could try a double-hitter?”
she smirked.

Sean looked at her incredulously before moving out from behind the drums to fire off another few rounds, smiling as two more bodies dropped to the floor with a soft thud and a garbled sound.

She flinched and bit back a yelp of pain as she rounded the barrel, the cold metal scrapping the open wound on her upper arm, but she aimed and fired, her first two shots finding their destination in the fleshy necks of two man toward the back of the group in front of them.

At Maria's signal, she and Sean silently made their back the way they had come before separating, each heading in different directions when they reached a crossroads of such in the maze of containers.

Maria eased herself along the bulk of another large container, her gun down for the moment, but ready to use should she need it.

She heard a thin whistle, almost as if it was riding the slight breeze, and the sound made her skin pucker into goosebumps along her arms and the back of her neck. It pricked at her memory, and she turned, looking deep into the darkness behind her.

The night was still, the air seeming to stop. “Michael?” she whispered, then waited for his response.

After a minute, she turned back to the direction she was originally heading, shaking her head slightly at the weird feeling that overcame her for a moment.

She moved again, slowly making her way along the wall of containers. She had past three more when she heard it again.

Before, it was a slow sound, almost as if the whistler was incredibly lazy and could barely be bothered, but this time, it lasted longer, a tune emanating into the night, and she stopped again.

She knew that tune, she remembered where she heard it last, and therefore, she knew who the whistler was. Goosebumps erupted on her skin once again,and she fought a shiver that attempted to run through her form.

She turned again, looking back in the direction she had walked. Still, there was nobody there. However, there was a flickering light dangling high above one of the containers, and her eye was drawn upward.

A man stood on top of the metal box, the outline of his body looming menacingly, and he was still whistling. She didn’t know the song, but she knew the tune. It was the same song her parents' murderer whistled late into the night. Sometimes when he was trailing his knife across her skin, other times, when he would lay beside her on the floor in the dining room.

Maria froze, physically unable to move, as images from that time invaded her brain again. The memories she had so deeply buried returning to the surface again for the third time in the last couple of months.

She heard him chuckle deep in his throat, and that jolted her from her stupor. She turned her body completely, lifting her arms and aiming her firearm at him.

“Not yet,” she heard, though she was sure she was too far to hear anything really clearly. She took a step forward, wanted to see his face when she put a bullet through his head.

The minute she moved, gunfire erupted from another area in the shipyard, and she hesitated before stepping back behind the safety of the shipping container into the shadows, away from her torturer.

Their eyes locked through the darkness, and Maria felt physical sickness at the sadistic smirk she found on his lips.

“You look good,” he gloated.

“Fuck you,” she shot back.

He leered at her, making her skin crawl, before squatting down on the container. “That cop you're sleeping with. He knows I own you, right?”

Maria squeezed the trigger on her gun, holding his gaze before she squinted slightly, knocking the bullet off its trajectory and pushing it so hard with her mind that it shot through three of the containers behind him.

“Missed me,” he jeered, standing again.

“Intentionally,” she replied, lowering her gun. “You don't get to die quickly. It will be slow and painful, and I will love every minute of it.”

He chuckled bemusingly. “Guess I taught you well.”

“Maria, where the fuck are you?” Sean’s voice erupted in her ear.

“Babe, are you ok?” Michael's voice followed her cousin's, concern evident in his voice.

Maria unconsciously flicked her eyes off to her side, and when she looked back, her tormentor was gone.

“Maria?” Sean voice echoed again, concerned.

“Ria?” Alex repeated, echoing the sentiments of the other man.

“I'm ok,” Maria finally answered, her voice sounding weak and strange even to her.

“The other team is almost with you. Can you make you way back to the entrance?” Alex asked the agents.

“Sure,” Max replied in her ear, and Maria turned sharply as the sound of running feet got louder.

She held her weapon, trained in the direction of the noise and ready to shoot whoever was approaching her, forgetting her need for revenge and torture, ready to go in for the kill.

“Hey, babe. Do you mind pointing that somewhere else?”

Maria deflated at the sound of Dean's voice, and when he was close enough, she pulled him into a hug before her brain kicked into gear.

Dean held for a minute longer than necessary before whispering in her ear. “Cavalry’s here.”

His voice against her ear jolted Maria, and she pulled back quickly, hitting him hard on his shoulder before she turned on her heel and stalked away, letting her senses guide her, knowing they would find Michael for her.

She recognized his body amongst the others first and headed toward him, her pace quickening as she neared him.

Michael turned to see her hurrying toward him, her form becoming clearer as she stalked through the darkness and filtered light of the shipyard.

“It's ok,” his voice reached her. “The last of the men ran off trying to save their own skins...” Michael stopped talking when he finally saw her frantic expression.

“Hey, are you all right?” he asked, stepping forward to meet her.

She nodded absentmindedly, her eyes searching the area around them. Dean had arrived with his partner, Ethan, and another team, only to find most of the fighting was over. They were now grumbling about being left out of all the excitement as they mingled with both Sean and Max, who were standing on the other side of the opening.

Michael reached for her chin, turning her face back to him, and he immediately noted the fear and agitation apparent in her eyes.

“Maria,” he said, and her gaze finally locked on his. Her eyes seemed unfocused, and he remembered instantly the last time he had seen this look in her eyes: When he had found her curled in on herself in her shower after telling him about her parents.

Michael pulled back. “He was here.” It wasn't a question, more a statement, because he knew there was only one person on this Earth who could make her like this.

Maria nodded as her body began to shake.

Michael pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her protectively, as his own head twisted and turned, searching the area for anyone out of place.

Michael scowled a little when Dean moved over to the group, wishing Alex had sent someone else as back up and not Maria's ex-boyfriend.

He watched as Dean flashed his eyes over to them, his brain whirling with his own thoughts and emotions at this situation.

It can't have been more than five minutes since that bastard was here, near Maria again. At that thought he moved before he had a chance to talk himself out of what he was about to do.

He maneuvered Maria over to Dean, turning her and pushing her gently closer to him.

“Take her home,” he instructed.

“What?” Maria exclaimed loudly, turned back to Michael. “Michael!”

“You need to go home,” Michael returned.

“And what are you gonna do? Search through the darkness for someone who is probably all ready long gone,”
she shot back.

“Wait, what's going on?” Sean asked, moving closer to them.

“He was here!” was all Michael said.

“Who?” Sean asked, puzzled as he looked to Maria, observing her shaken state immediately. “Shit, no. No fucking way!”

Sean began to pace the area, stopping in front of his cousin, who looked like she was drawing in on herself.
“Why didn't you call for me. Fuck, why didn't you just put a bullet through his head?”

Maria shrugged, “I missed.”

“You missed. You MISSED. You never fucking miss,” Sean yelled back to her. “You are incapable of missing a target.”

“Hey!” Michael intervened, stepping between the cousins. “Don't yell at her.”

Sean took a deep breath, knowing Michael was right, and he shouldn't take his anger out on her. “What were you thinking?” he asked, his voice softer.

“That he has to pay for what he did,” she returned with anger. “And a quick death is too good for him. It needs to be painfully slow and degrading and...”

Sean stopped her, silencing her by pulling her toward him, enveloping her in a hug.

Maria rested against his shoulder for a moment before pulling back and stepping out of his embrace, not wanting to show her weakness in front of others.

She turned to Michael, watching his indecision about leaving her with Sean and hunting down her tormentor.

“Michael,” she almost whispered to him, reaching out and clasping his hand in hers. “Let's go home.”

Michael swiveled his head, searching the darkness one more time before turning back to her. He pulled his hand from hers and wrapped his arm across her shoulders, drawing her close and stirred her away to the safety of one of the waiting cars, his mind churning with unanswered questions.

This was the second time something unexpected happened on one of their missions and memories of the conversation with Charlie, and his words – don't trust anyone, rely on each other, and no one else – rang through his thoughts.

Was someone in The Company really out to get one of them? Maria's parents' murderer turning up had to be more than a coincident, didn't it? These questions plagued Michael's mind as he guided Maria into the passenger seat of the car before he walked around the vehicle and settled into the driver's seat. Within seconds, the car's powerful engine purred to life, and they sped off in the direction of home.

Good afternoon to all out there.

I must apologize for my lack of updates on my other fic's, my only excuse being RL is hectic at the moment. But thanks for those who are still reading this story, I appreciate you all sticking with it.

Also, sorry if there are any formatting problems, I'm using a new software since my last one took a permanent vacation on me and I'm still getting used to the differences – I am somewhat technically challenged. It's a curse, something my fiance wholeheartedly agrees with, and absolutely refuses to let me near his computer

Carolyn: Yeah, this version of Maria is certainly different, huh? Thanks for still reading

And on with the story....

Chapter 32.

Michael drove in silence as Maria gazed out of the passenger seat window, not seeing the passing scenery as her mind buzzed with the events of the evening. Michael twisted his head every now and then, his eyes looking her over in concern, watching for any signs of a breakdown that he suspected could very well happen.

Aside from the fact she was quiet, which in itself was something unusual for his normally talkative girlfriend, she looked calm, though Michael had a feeling this wouldn't last and idly wondered where the night would take them.

She moved once to remove the earwig from her ear and unwrap her leather strap bracelet and place them in the glove box. Michael followed her actions and handed his off to her, and she placed them with her own without a word about the action or what had occurred at the shipyard.

He detoured, taking Maria to a place he would go when he needed solace from the horrors of his work, and soon, they sat next to each other on the hood of the car, watching and listening to the ocean's waves crash in the distance in the semi-darkness on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean just north of Malibu.

“There's something so peaceful about the ocean,” Maria's soft voice penetrated the tranquil night, breaking their silence after closing her eyes and soaking in the nature around them.

“There is,” Michael agreed, turning his head from the dark waters to her. Her expression was passive, and the slight wind blew at her hair, sending wispy strands dancing.

“I think that's why I love the lake back at the house, the stillness of the water. It's calming,” Maria continued, and Michael could envision her sitting on that giant boulder beside the large body of water on The Company estate.

Michael smiled softly at her casual conversation, knowing she needed to fill the silence between them, giving her less time to think of what had happened that evening.

They stayed there for more than half an hour before Maria shivered as the wind picked up.

“Come on,” Michael said, sliding from the hood and turning back to offer a hand to her. “Let's go home. It's starting to get to get cold.”

“I'm ok,” Maria answered, though she allowed Michael to grasp her hand and pull her from the car.

“Yeah, I was actually thinking of myself,” Michael smirked to her.

Maria gave him a half smile as she playfully whacked him on his shoulder before plucking the car keys from his pocket. “I'll drive.”


The house was buzzing with excitement by the time Michael and Maria returned, Max's successful taking of revenge having made the rounds and the employees of The Company celebrated with him and Isabel.

Maria found a corner in the large room where the impromptu party had erupted to sit by herself, a tumbler containing a small measure of whiskey in her hand, and she finally allowed her mind to review what had occurred that evening.

The shock of seeing him standing before her on that container shook her to her very soul. While she knew he was still out there somewhere in the world, and even more so in the last few weeks, the actually proof was a little too much to bear.

She played the conversation she overheard between Michael, Sean, and Max over and over in her head, hearing their words clearly once again as they were regarding her needing extra protection, and despite her vehemence that she didn't want or need to be protected, she now admitted that maybe she did.

She didn't doubt her ability in the least to protect herself. She was at the top of her game, in peak condition, and she was able to take on any adversary. But the way she had initially reacted to his presence this evening proved that he still held something over her.

The unbounded fear she felt for seven days as a teenager returned in full when his eyes met hers, his gleaming with pleasure and her undoubtedly showing her terror. She was angry with herself for giving him the satisfaction of knowing he could still provoke that emotion in her, but at the same time, seeing him brought back the unrest she felt during those days, and how could she NOT react to him.

She didn't notice the lone tear that fell from her eye until it landed on her wrist. She looked around quickly, her gaze scanning the room and hoping no one had seen her moment of weakness, swiping the droplet from her wrist before she lifted her arm, swallowing the amber liquid in one fluid motion.

She turned her head when she heard Michael's bellowing laughter from across the room, and she couldn't help the smile that settled on her face as she observed her man talking with their friends and co-workers.

“Shouldn't he be over here making sure you're ok?' a familiar voice asked.

“He's not my keeper,” she shot back. “Besides, he's already made sure I'm ok.”

“Ah,” Dean returned with understanding, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. “Fucking by the side of the road. You were always up for that.”

Maria grabbed a bottle of whiskey from a passing someone's hands, shooting them a deathly glare when they turned to challenge her, and she took a successful swig from her won bottle before glaring at her ex. “Not everything is about sex, Dean.”

Dean laughed, a light mocking sound that irritated Maria.

“Babe, with you, everything is about sex.”

Maria poured herself a liberal measure of the alcohol in her glass which she held in her hand. “Guess you
don't know me as well as you thought you did.”

“Oh, I know you, all right,” Dean leered to her.

Maria again emptied her glass and poured another, wondering what she ever saw in the agent who had seated himself beside her, apart from the obvious of course. After all, she was a glutton for his particular persona and physique.

“Just leave me alone, Dean,” Maria said wearily, hating the slight pleading tone her voice held. She tipped her head back once again to drink the entire glass.

“I'm just looking out for you, Maria,” Dean returned, his voice softer this time.

Maria sighed, looking at the bottle in her hand and debated over another.

“I don't need you to look out for me,” she said, placing the bottle on the floor beside her chair. “I'm not your responsibility.”

“You're never anyone's responsibility, Maria,” he said sadly. “You won't allow yourself to be.”

“There is nothing wrong with being independent,” she bit back vehemently.

“And there's nothing wrong with sharing your burdens with someone either,” Dean soothed, his hand reaching out and rubbing her back gently. “I know you, Maria,” he continued. “And seeing this dick again, that has messed with your mind.”

Maria's back stiffened at his touch and his words, bristling at the fact that he did know her well enough to at least notice that.

“If you need someone to talk to about all this shit, you know I'm here for you.”

“I don't need to talk to you, Dean. There are plenty of other people here that will listen.”

Dean huffed. “You think your cop boyfriend understands? I don't think so, Maria.”

“Will you stop with your vendetta against Michael?” Maria moaned, moving away from him a little and out of his reach, her eyes flicking over to Michael, who was talking with Ryan and Kyle by the bar. “It's me you're pissed with, not him. And I bet if you had met under different circumstances, you would be friends.”


Across the room Michael caught Maria's fleeting glance. He noticed her empty glass and the half empty bottle of whiskey by her feet.

She looked deep in conversation with Dean, and while he wasn't extremely happy at the closeness of the two, he trusted her completely.

When Maria's forehead wrinkled slightly at something Dean said to her, and she shook her head, glancing over to him again, Michael excused him from the conversation with his fellow agents and moved across the room.

Once beside her, he bent slightly, and she instinctively tilted her head up, his lips brushing against hers slowly in greeting.

“Hey,” she smiled at him. “The guys' conversation got boring, eh?”

“There's only so much you can take of Ryan talking about his latest conquest,” Michael grinned back to her.
“Or should that be conquests.”

“Two?” Maria asked, arching a brow in question.

“More like three,” Michael told her, amusement evident in her voice.

“Too freaky for you?” Dean teased Michael.

“Please,” Maria answered for him with a look of mischief on her face. “Besides, Ryan's probably exaggerating somewhat.”

Dean felt a pang of jealousy again when Michael kissed Maria again, knowing the other man was taking his time and staking his claim on the girl who had broken his heart. And Maria's look wasn't lost on him, either. It was a look that implied they enjoyed an adventurous sex life, something that he once had with her.

“Does she still do that thing with her tongue?” Dean gloated, a satisfied look on his face as he effectively ruined the moment between the couple, who drew back from one another to look at him in disbelief. “I taught her that.”

Michael took a step toward Dean, who was still seated beside Maria, his hands clenched into fists.

“He’s just provoking you, Michael. Ignore him,” Maria whispered, calming her boyfriend, who was so easily rattled by her ex.

“How does it feel to know she’ll come back to me some day?” Dean pushed, his grin growing as Michael's face flushed in anger.

“Dean, stop it,” Maria chastised, noting that several people were turning their heads to the corner they occupied.

“You’ll see, man. I’m only trying to help you out,” Dean reasoned, completely ignoring Maria for the moment and standing, his height matching Michael's.

“She’s fucked up in here,” he pointed to head, “and no matter what you try and do to help her, she won’t let that go. What that guy did to her, it wasn’t only physical. It was psychological, as well, and you will never understand that.”

Maria inhaled sharply at Dean's words, her head swiveling to the people immediately around them who were now looking over at them with thinly veiled interest in the conversation that was becoming more and more intense.

“Dean,” she whispered hotly.

“I don’t have to understand, I just have to be there for her. And I will be because she doesn’t deserve to be treated like a piece of shit,” Michael returned, his voice getting louder.

“Michael, please,” Maria begged.

She looked from one man to the other. They were both riled up, their animosity for each other finally spilling over. She should have know something like this would happen eventually, but she had secretly hoped the two would come to blows in a place where a party wasn't occurring.

“Is everything ok here?” Tess' voice reached her ears.

“Fine,” Maria replied through gritted teeth, her eyes boring into Michael and Dean in turn.

Maria turned and grabbed a hold of Michael's arm in an attempt to pull him away from Dean and the scene the two were creating.

“Let's go, Michael,” she instructed harshly, casting a scathing look to Dean before turning and ushering Michael from the room before Dean went too far.

Unfortunately, Dean followed them out of the large room and into the hallway, intent on continuing this conversation.

“You think that’s what I did? That I treated her like shit?” Dean threw out to Michael. “I treated exactly like she wanted me to.”

Michael continued down the corridor, wanting nothing but to get Maria away from her former boyfriend's vicious words and wanting to walk away before he was forced to do something about Dean, who was clearly pushing his buttons for some reason.

“Maria is the kind of person who takes what she wants from a person. She wouldn’t have it any other way,” Dean continued, calling out after them, causing the two to turn in the corridor and face him. “There is something disturbed within her that only another evil person can understand, and you, Mayberry Boy, will never understand that. That fucker who killed her parents and used her, he left a piece of himself inside of her, and nobody or nothing will ever remove that.”

There was silence for a minute in the corridor as Michael and Dean stared at each other. Maria took a step back from Michael, her breathing coming quick and harsh at Dean's words.

Was he right? Was that why she acted the way she did?

She took another step back.

“You won't be her savior,” Dean taunted. “She doesn't want to be saved.”

“I don't need to be saved,” Maria whispered, but the guys didn't hear her.

“Has she told you all the sordid details?” Dean asked Michael. “All the things he did to her?” The glance
Michael gave Maria told him everything he needed to know, and Dean smirked again. She hadn't told him, either, but Michael didn't need to know that, and he was fine with the other man assuming his relationship with Maria clearly had more trust, as Maria revealed her innermost secrets to him instead of Michael. It wasn't the truth, but Michael would never know.

“Guess you're not that special someone in her life then,” Dean pushed gleefully.

Michael broke at that and took a run at Dean, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist and tackling him to the wood floor.

“Michael!” Maria called out, causing people from the party to look out the room into the hallway as she stepped closer to them.

Dean rolled on the hardwood floor, turning and lashing out with his fist, grinning when it connected with Michael's chin.

“Dean!” Maria tried. “Stop.”

The two men didn't hear her as they matched each other hit for hit, punch for punch. Michael struggling to his feet, pulling Dean with him by his shirt. He turned the two of them and smashed Dean against the wall.

“Do not disrespect Maria,” he ground out through gritted teeth, dismissing the slow flow of blood that trickled from a small cut above his eye. “ She deserves so much more than that. And she deserves so much more than either you or I can give her, but I'll be a sick bastard if I stood here and let you talk about her like that.”

“Believe me, she's heard worse,” Dean sneered.

Michael pulled back him arm, ready to smash his fist into Dean face before a large hand wrapped around his upper arm.

“Michael,” Sean's voice filtered through his muddled brain.

He turned to see Max and Sean standing behind him, obviously intent on breaking up this fight. Sean looked as pissed as Michael felt, obviously having heard what the other agent said about his cousin. Michael twisted further to see Maria, her normally vibrant green eyes now pale and washed out. Her lip was trembling slightly, and he could see she was barely keeping herself together.

He finally focused on his friends gathered in the doorway, Tess and Liz spilling out into the hallway. From the looks on their faces, it was obvious they had heard what Michael and Dean had been arguing about, and it was clear they were concerned about both him and Maria.

“Michael, please, let's just go,” Maria whispered. “Ignore him, he's just jealous and vindictive.”

Michael turned back to Dean, where he was slumped against the wall. “You stay away from her,” he said before he pushed the other agent away, adding just that little extra strength with his bender abilities and watching as he fell to the floor.

Michael turned around fully and strode away from Dean, missing the glint in his adversary's eyes and his slight smile. He placed his hand on Maria's back and stirred her from the crowd gathering in the corridor, heading for the marble staircase and their room.


Once alone in the room they shared, Maria headed to the bathroom, grabbing a box of alcohol wipes she kept there for small cuts which didn't need Liz's expertise.

She pushed Michael down onto the edge of the bed, tossing the box down next to him. She lifted a couple of the individually wrapped swabs from the box and ripped one open before gingerly touching the thin material to the small cut by the side of his left eye. Michael winced as the sting of the antiseptic on his open wound shot through him.

“Are you ok?” Michael asked her after a few minutes had past, his eyes intently watching her every movement as she tended to his wounds.

She didn't answer him. Instead, she just continued with her impromptu nursing.

When she deem his face was sufficiently cleansed, she returned to box to her mirrored medicine cabinet in the bathroom.

She moved back into the main room, fully aware of Michael's eyes following her.

She couldn't believe Dean had said those things about her in the hallway, and she cringed at the fact that some of the admissions could very well be true. He was someone who had at one time been very important to her, someone who she had shared some of her hopes and dreams with. She never imagined he would be so cruel to use those against her and her latest boyfriend now.

Michael interrupted her inner thoughts. “Maria, why won’t you talk to me?” he asked, his voice timid, and Maria couldn't recall ever hearing him use that tone before.

“About what?” Maria responded, hoping Michael would just drop whatever he was thinking about. “About Dean?”

“No. You know what,” Michael returned, stopping her as she paced past him, his hand clasping on top of hers. “About what happened to you.”

Maria turned away from him, though her fingers tightened around his,and she clenched her eyes shit for a moment.

“What did he do to you?” Michael probed again, his voice softening.

“You don’t want to know, Michael,” Maria whispered, not looking at him.

“Of course I do,” Michael told her honestly. “Maria, this thing between us, it’s special. I don’t want to lose that.”

“That’s why I can’t tell you,” Maria turned back to him, her gaze pleading for him to drop this. She needed him to understand her desire to not tell him, to keep it all inside, where she alone had to live with the memories and therefore not hurt anyone she loved.

“You think I’m gonna leave you because of something some sick bastard did to you?” Michael questioned with disbelief.

“Why wouldn’t you?” she all but screamed at him, pulling her hand from his. “It’s not pretty, Michael.”

“And I understand that, I honestly do. But you can’t keep it all inside, hiding it in a bottle or behind sex when things become too much. You need to talk about it,” he started before he finished, his voice barely audible as he murmured, “You need to let me in.”

“Let you in,” she almost laughed, hating how caring and gentle his voice sounded despite the cruelty of her own. She didn't want this, she didn't want to be a bitch to him but she also didn't want to tell him what he asked of her. She couldn't hurt him with the truth about herself.

“Yes.”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes,” Michael repeated adamantly.

“You want to know that he took great pleasure in slicing my skin with a smile on his face? She started, her anger evident in her voice. “That he tied me down and raped me while my dad watched, tears streaming down his face? That he degraded me in so many ways, it makes me sick just thinking about it? You want to know what it felt like to have him moving inside me while I was covered with blood and my parents dead in the next room?”

Years of repression, of not telling anyone the particulars of what happened that night, broke as she screamed the horrific details to Michael, not noticing as her tears started to fall. Her emotions, held in check for so many years, felt like they were being tossed in a washer as her body shook from the force of their release.

“You want to know how he marked me as his so I would never forget. That the marks he left, the scars they would become weren't enough for him, so he had to go that one step further? How he said I was beautiful, special, someone to be worshiped and adored while all the time he was abusing my body?
Or how about how much it hurt? You want to know about that?”

“Maria,” Michael whispered, trying to take her hand again. She pulled away from him, taking a step back.

“How about when you're above me and moving in me every time, a small part of me replays the way he held me down, tied me with a rope or tape or anything just to stop me from fighting back? she asked, her voice breaking with the question. “How about when you try to pin my wrists down, I panic, and I use my abilities against you... You, Michael. I could hurt you so badly, but I can't stop myself because I can't let myself be in that position again.”

She couldn't stop now, the dam had opened, and with tears streaming down her face, she continued and all the emotions that she held back –the anger, the fear, the panic, and the sadness – came rushing out.

“Or how about the fact that I like rough sex, how about that? Knowing what he did to me, and I can’t stop myself. And then how scared I am to think this is a result of what he did to me. That he created who I am today.”

“Maria,” he tried again, his voice still soft, reaching for her hand again. His sadness at her admissions showing in his golden eyes, and he almost wished he hadn't pushed her to this point. Because now there was no going back for them, he knew the horrors she had seen and been through. He only hoped they would come out the other side stronger, together and more united than they had been.

“No, Michael, just don’t, please,” she pleaded, unable to lift her eyes and meet his.

Michael ignored her pleas and grasped her hand again, pulling her toward him as he stood from the bed, enveloping her in his arms, crushing her much smaller body against his in a tight hug. Maria's body was still shaking from her revelations, and he ran his large hands up and down her back in a soothing motion.

He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't completely horrified listening to her frantic description of her seven days in hell, but she was still Maria. She was still the girl who made his heart leap and his breathing rapid whenever he thought of her. Still the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, even if neither of them had uttered those immortal words yet. He knew he loved her, loved her beyond anything in this world and he knew she felt the same, regardless of her reluctance to admit that to herself.

“I’m not going anywhere, not until you send me packing,” he told her softly.

A few minutes passed where they just stood together, Michael holding her close, her small hands balled into fists against his chest, and her head resting against him. He could feel their hearts beating, and even now, despite her anger and panic at her revelations, they still beat in time with each other.

Maria unclenched her hands and laid her palms flat against the material of his shirt. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest, the slight increase in the beating of his heart that matched her own. She closed her eyes, relishing this moment, capturing the image she was sure they made and committing it to memory.

She knew her feelings for another man would never equal those she held for the one who held her safely in his arms at that moment. The one who wanted nothing but to comfort her, protect her, cherish and love her. She knew he was the love of her life, and no other would come close to what she felt for Michael. Her heart plummeted at the words she was about to utter.

“I want you to go,” she whispered against his chest, her eyes still closed and her tear-strained cheeks wet.

Michael's in-sync heart faltered maybe two, three beats before thumping quickly.

He pulled back from her a little, holding her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up to his, and she opened her eyes. “Do you mean that? I mean, really mean that? Because if that’s what you want, I will go, Maria, though it will kill me.”

Maria’s eyes twitched as they bore into his, as if she was looking for an answer to some question she didn’t yet know how to ask.

“Do you want me to leave? Leave you?” he asked again.

Maria licked her lips, the dryness there suddenly too much and her gaze broke from his, fixing on his broad chest instead.

“Yes,” she returned, so low that Michael's ears had to strain to hear her.

Michael was taken back by her answer, so sure she wouldn't actually say yes after the moments they had just shared together. After all they had experienced together.

Maria broke away from his embrace, her heart breaking at what she was doing, but she was unable to stop herself.

“I want you to leave,” she clarified, her voice a little stronger as she resolved herself. She turned and headed for the door.

“Wait, Maria,” his voice faltered, and she turned to face him again, pausing by the exit of their room. “Where are you going?”

“You stay here, I'll find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

Michael couldn't believe this was happening. Was she really ending things between them?

“But...” he fumbled over his words. He had told her he would leave. Could he?

“This is your room,” he finally said, noting the tears brimming in her eyes again.

She smiled weakly at him. “It's your room, too.” She turned back to the door. “There are other rooms that are mine, as well,” she continued softly as she opened the door almost silently.

“Maria,” Michael called out, taking a step toward her.

“Please, Michael,” she pleaded with him, holding her hands up in a stopping motion. “Don't make this any harder then it all ready is.”

“It doesn't have to be hard. This isn't the right decision.” He couldn't help the words falling from his lips.

Maria passed through the door before glancing back to the man she was walking away from. She desperately wanted to tell him she loved him, that he was right, this was the wrong decision, but Dean's words echoed loudly in her mind.

There is something disturbed within her.

She didn't want to bring Michael down with her on her road to destruction because as much as she denied it, that was the only road she was on right now, and the only thing that kept her going was the thought that before she left this world, she would take that bastard with her.

She turned and closed the door behind her, blocking out Michael's pleas for her to come back.

She walked slowly down the corridor of the west wing, not completely sure where she was headed, only that it was away from Michael and the only future she could foresee for herself.

“Hey, Maria. Are you ok?” a female voiced called out, concern evident in their voice.

Maria walked straight past Tess and Liz, her eyes expressionless.

“This is not good,” Tess said to Liz, her voice fearful.

Liz hurried after Maria, grabbing hold of her arm and turning the blonde to face her. “Maria?”

Liz's head swiveled back to the door that led to her room. “Where's Michael?”

“He's in his room,” Maria answered, her voice unemotional.

“HIS room?” Tess asked, stepping closer to her friend. “Since when was it just his room.”

Maria's eyes flicked to the oak door. “Since I broke it off with him.”

“What!?”

“Are you insane?” Tess cried.

Maria raised her eyes and her eyebrows in a gesture her friends understood as 'maybe'.

“Dean was right,” Maria said, turning back to continue on her way.

“What!?” Tess repeated Liz's exclamation. “Did I hear you right? Did you just say Dean was right? As in Dean Prescott, the good-looking Neanderboy who thinks you are his personal property, is right? About what?”

Maria shrugged, but didn't stop walking.

Tess and Liz exchanged a concerned glance before turning back to a fast retreating Maria.

“Where are you going?” Tess asked as Maria started descending the stairs.

“To get a drink,” her voice drifted back.

The two girls shared another concerned look before hurrying after their friend.



Three hours later, and Maria and Liz carried a very intoxicated Tess between them up to her room. Tess' arms were splayed across their shoulders,with them holding onto her hands. Their other arms were wrapped around the petite agent's waist.

“We really need a elevator in this place,” Maria groaned to Liz as the two struggled under the slight blonde's weight.

“She is surprisingly heavy for someone so small,” Liz returned. She was the only one of the three whose brain was still functioning as it should.

She had taken a few alcoholic drinks with Tess and Maria, but she cut herself off at two, determined to stop Maria from doing something else she would deeply regret in the morning.

Maria had drank a full bottle of Vladimir's vodka before giving up on trying to drown her sorrows when Tess passed out on the couch. She wasn't piss-assed drunk, but she's wasn't exactly cold stone sober either. She had a happy numb buzz about her and her thoughts had taken a vacation. She was grateful for that.

“Hey, let's drop her off at Kyle's,” Liz suggested. “I don't think she should be alone in this state.”

“Ookey dokey artichokey,” Maria's voice sang from Tess' other side, and Liz couldn't help but smile.

Maria rapped loudly on Kyle door, just in case the other agent was asleep at this late hour.

“Yeah?” Kyle's sleep-addled voice sounded from within the room.

“Special delivery,” Maria called out, her voice light.

A minute later, Kyle opened the door, his hair sticking out in several directions, his eyes half closed. His chest was bare and his boxers hung low on his hips.

Maria's eyes raked over him, and she whistled low. “Well, Kyle. What have you been hiding?”

This seemed to wake Kyle up completely. “Are you drunk?” he asked her, narrowing his eyes at her and his hands moving to cover his groin.

“Not completely,” she sighed as she hefted Tess a little, tilting her head toward her friend. “But she is.”

“Can she stay with you tonight?” Liz asked. “I don't think she should be alone like this.”

“Sure,” Kyle answered quickly, opening the door wider to let the three girls enter.

Liz and Maria comically maneuvered Tess into Kyle's room, Maria unintentionally slamming herself against a dresser as Liz seemed to tip all the weight onto her.

“Now, that will leave a mark,” Maria moaned, letting go of Tess' hand to rub her hip. Liz stumbled again with the sudden weight, and Tess started to crumple to the floor in slow motion.

Kyle moved quickly and swept Tess up into his arms.

“Wow, Kyle. Now that's a way to truly sweep a girl off her feet,” Maria grinned.

“Well, I try,” Kyle smirked back to her.

Maria checked him out again. “Have you always had that body, Kyle?” she asked, tipping her head slightly to the side and licking her lips.

“No, I bought it from ebay,” he returned deadpan as he carried Tess over to the bed.

“Hey, we should do that,” Maria turned to Liz.

“Do what?” Liz asked confused, stretching out her back.

“Buy a male body from ebay,” Maria returned as if she was talking to someone extremely dim-witted.

“I think he was joking,” Liz grinned back to her.

“Duh! I'm not that drunk, ya know,” Maria shot back.

“Haven't you got your own male body just down the hall?” Kyle asked confused after placing his seemingly unconscious girlfriend on the bed.

Maria waved him off. “And you had to go and ruin my buzz,” she moaned, flopping down across his bed, her arms falling above her head.

Kyle turned to grin at Liz. “And all my fantasies are now complete.”

“Uh, men!” Liz groaned.

“What?” Kyle laughed, holding his hand out to show the two girls laid on his bed. “Liz, I would love for you to find me any make heterosexual who wouldn't find this highly arousing.”

“No unconscious sex, Kyle,” Maria's voice drifted up from the bed.

“So this is where the real party is,” another male voice echoed into the room.

Maria groaned as she lifted herself up onto her elbows to see Dean standing in the doorway, an amused expression on his handsome face.

There was a cut above his right eye and a slight bruise forming on his cheek, these being the only visual remnants of his fight with Michael.

“I have to admit to you, Kyle. I didn't expect to find you with three girls in your room,” Dean said a smirk on his face.

“Jealous?” Maria threw back at him.

“Naturally,” Dean shot back to her.

Maria stood from the bed and moved to the door. “Take care of my girl,” she tossed over her shoulder to Kyle as she shimmed past Dean, who refused to move.

“Sure thing,” Kyle rushed out. “Hey, Maria, we'll continue this later, right?” he asked hopefully.

Maria just smirked to him as moved off down the corridor, Dean following immediately behind her.

“Make sure she has plenty of water if she wakes,” Liz instructed Kyle before rushing after Maria.

“Hey,” Dean called out to Maria. “Isn't your room in the other direction?”

“Not tonight, it isn't,” she answered over her shoulder.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Liz asked her, her eyebrows shooting up as if imploring Maria to take her up on her offer.

“Well, it seems you got the first part of your M.O down, the alcohol part,” Dean gloated, following the two girls closely. “Want me to help you with the second?”

Maria turned back to her, her eyes narrowing slightly at him before they unconsciously drifted to the door at the end of the corridor.

“Sure, why not?” she answered.

“Maria, are you crazy? You don't want to do this,” Liz stated quickly as quietly as Dean moved closer to them, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“Yes, I do,” she hissed back. “Just go back to your room.”

“Maria, please,” Liz grabbed hold of her hand. “Think about what you are throwing away.”

“Hey,” Dean interjected himself between them. “She said she wants this, so lay off, Liz.”

“Fuck you, Dean,” she spat out, disgusted with him at that moment and the way he was taking advantage of Maria's less than sober state, and her obvious distress at what had happened that evening.

She turned back to Maria, holding her friend's face between her hands, looking her deep in the eyes.
“I know you, Maria, and you will hate yourself in the morning if you have sex with Dean.”

Maria's eyes seemed almost dead to Liz in that minute, as if the Maria she knew and loved was no longer home.

“I hate myself already,” the blonde whispered, as she moved away from Liz and closer to Dean.

He held his hand out to her, and after a few moments, she slid hers into his grasp and let him pull her down the hallway.

Liz watched them go, tears flowing down her face and knowing that there was no coming back for Maria if she did this.

She debated going to get Michael or Sean or someone who would be able to stop her, but knowing that involving others in this would only make things worse and make Maria more stubborn about it.

She turned reluctantly when Maria disappeared into Dean's room, slowly making her way to her own room.

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

Good day to you all.

Sorry this is a day late, my excuse is sound but I won't bore you with the details.

Anyway, here I am with another addition to this tale. Thanks to those who are still reading and leaving feedback and for those who are just reading, even a one worded comment is appreciated

Carolyn: Thanks. Your comments are always gratefully received.

Chapter 33.

Maria stirred as the sun fell across her face through a large window. She was lying on her chest in an extremely comfortable bed, and she had a fleeting thought that it was a bed she hadn't been in for a while.

She registered the feel of a soft sheet against her bare legs and also noted she seemed to be wear a pair of shorts and a camisole top. She twisted her head away from the bright light that fell upon her face and turned in the bed so she was on her back before slowly and cautiously opening one eye.

All she could see at first was pale pink, the sight confusing her, and she sat up quickly in the bed. She looked around the room wildly, astounded that she had ended up here after the night before.

Her old room was exactly as it had been the last time she had slept there, which was a couple of weeks before her parents' murder. After that time, she could no longer step into the room without feeling she was betraying the girl who had slept there previously, irreversibly changed after her parents were gone.

She wasn't exactly the poster child for virginal chastity before that time, but what he took from her and what he did to her made her feel like she couldn't face the innocence of her childhood room following that. Her hopes and dreams were shattered, and from that loss of her aspirations had grown something else, and she had become the person she was today.

She wasn't exactly proud of everything she had done in the eight years since then but they were her mistakes. She hadn't always learned from them, but she had grown.

She scooted back in the canopied bed as her mind replayed the events the previous evening, which she was willing to admit was absolutely NOT one of her finer moments.


Dean opened the door to his room with a flourish, holding it wide for Maria to enter into his personal space, and as she did he followed her inside.

The room hadn't changed since she was last inside it more than a year or so ago. The walls still dark with their deep blue and burgundy color, the lighting still low, and her picture still displayed on his dresser.

She turned away from the sight, not quite believing he still had an image of her on show, as if they were still dating. A question formed on her lips and her brow furrowed, but the question died in her throat as Dean's presence cut it off.

“So, why are you not with Michael right now?” Dean asked, coming up behind her, his hand moving aside her long hair so his fingers could dance along her pulse point.

“I don't want to talk about Michael,” she whispered, her voice catching slightly on his name. She didn't turn to look at Dean, her head buzzing slightly with alcohol, and she pushed all thoughts of the man she had rejected to the back of her mind as she willed herself to focus on the man whose room she was currently standing inside.

“Good,” Dean returned, his lips an inch from the skin he had just caressed, his hands settling on her hips. “Me neither.”

She closed her eyes when his mouth connected with her neck, unconsciously tipping her head to the side to give him more access. She leaned back against him, the feel of his hard body against hers familiar, though not feeling quite right. His tongue traced her skin as he left open kisses along her neck and collar bone, moving up to her ear.

His left hand moved up from her hip to cup her left breast and she felt him groan as he kneaded her giving flesh, the sound vibrating from his chest to her back.

He nipped at her ear before whispering, “You feel so good. Just like I remember.”

Maria cringed at his words, not wanting to think he fantasized about her during their time apart because that was a little too creepy... even for Dean.

He eased back a little from her, putting a small space between their bodies before grabbing the hem of her t-shirt and moving the material up and over her head, tossing it to floor behind him in one smooth motion.

Maria's eyes remained closed, her hands falling back to her sides as Dean quickly divested himself of his own shirt then pulled her body back to his, her back still facing his front.

His lips fell to her neck again, and this time his kisses were a little harder and more demanding as both of his hands reached for her breasts, grasping at her through the thin lace of her bra that covered them.

She leaned back against him again as her body reacted to his touch, and she felt how hard he was for her through the denim that covered her backside. Her arms were still limp at her sides, as if they were reluctant to move and return his touch.

“Shit, Maria,” Dean moaned against her neck, “You taste so good.”

Maria's body shuddered involuntary. He knew all the right buttons to press, just how to touch her and he was using it to his advantage.

He switched to her other ear before he continued his assault on her neck as his right hand left her breast and moved back down her body, toying with the waistband of her jeans.

Dean grinned against her neck when he popped the fasting and burrowed his hand into her pants.

“No panties,” he chuckled low. “It's good to know some things never change.”

Dean's hand quickly retreated so he could tug not so gently at her jeans, lowering them just enough so his access would be easier but not too far so she was bare to him before dipping back in, using the force of his hand to move the material a little more. Maria tuned his voice out when she felt his fingers probe at her, pushing against her flesh and demanding entrance into her. Her body took his digits greedily as she bucked her hips against his touch.

His leg pushed against hers, telling her without words he wanted her to move, and he maneuvered her slightly, guiding her to where he wanted with his body, and then he instructed, “Open your eyes, Maria.”

Maria swallowed nervously before complying, her eyes flying open to see herself reflected in Dean's tall free-standing mirror, which stood in the corner of his room.

“I know how to like to see a man's hand in your pants,” he told her huskily, his eyes holding hers in the glass. “I know how it turns you on, almost as much as seeing his head between your legs, your delicate hands tangled in his hair and keeping him in place until you get what you want.”

Maria swallowed again, hating how he knew her so well, how he was using his intimate knowledge of her and her eroticisms to get what he wanted, but most of all, hating how her body reacted to what the mirror reflected.

It was true: there was something so erotic to her when her lover - any lover - delved beneath her clothing, touching her intimately, teasing her without removing an item, and Dean was using this to his advantage.

His other hand pulled the material covering her breast down and rolled her now exposed nipple with expertise between his thumb and forefinger, and again, her body reacted as if detached from her mind, which was finally beginning to focus.

“I want to lick you, Maria,” he murmured, burying his head in the crook of her neck as he continued the motion, earning several moans from her. “I want it so bad. To lick every inch of your body. To bite you until you scream in pleasure. To have you beneath me withering in ecstasy, so close to orgasm that you are begging for it. Begging me to fuck you harder, faster, deeper. And I will, you know I will.”

She vaguely wondered if he had been his obnoxious when they had dated, and if he had, why it never bothered her. Back then, she couldn't really call what she had with Dean a relationship. It was a means to an end. Though they might have been exclusively with each other, for her, at least, it was more a physical thing than anything else.

Now, he knew all the words to say, the way to touch her that made her want more, but it wasn't right. His touch, though knowledgeable and skillful, lacked something. In the mirror, her eyes focused on his hand, which was all-but hidden by her jeans, and she moaned a little as he skimmed over her secret bundle of nerves. Her gaze wandered to his other hand, which held her breast softly but possessively and she watched him manipulate her body as the feeling of a lack of something continued.

It finally hit her: His hands weren't right. They weren't the right hands. While they were large, they were also soft, too soft, and the skin lacked the calluses she had come to love. While they touched her with passion, want, and need, they didn't hold that special reverence, respect, and devotion she had come to expect from another pair of hands that happened to belong to a man just down the hall.

She cringed, the truth hitting her like a pile of bricks.

“Stop,” she said, her voice low, but in his focusing on his impossible task of trying to get his lips to her breast without moving her, Dean missed it.

“Dean,” she said again, her voice stronger this time and she pulled his hand from within her and out of her jeans,realizing this was the first time she actually touched him since entering his room. “Stop.”

“What?! Why?” Dean moaned, removing his other hand from her breast and holding his hands up.

“This isn't right,” she told his reflection in the mirror.

“Fuck, Maria,” he groaned. “Of course, its right. You and me together is always right.”

“Not anymore,” she whispered back, finally stepping away and turning to meet his gaze.

Dean's eyes fell to her still exposed breast and he licked his lips. “You can't tell me you don't want this, want me,” he protested before indicating to his right hand, the digits glistening in the low light of his dark room. “This tells me otherwise.”

He watched her as he brought the fingers to his lips, his tongue reaching out to lick them frantically as if he didn't want to miss a drop.

Maria shook her head. “Just because you know how to touch me and arouse me doesn't mean I want you. I don't want you, Dean, and if this was to go any further, it wouldn't be right. I would be using you.”

Dean laughed, a deep full bodied sound that filled the room. “Since when has that been a problem for you? You've used me before, many times, and I'm willing for you to use me right now. Fuck, you can use me all night.”

“I don't want you, Dean,” she bit out, finally moving the material of her bra back over her breast.

“There is a huge difference between wanting me and needing me,” Dean shot back, anger now lacing his words. “You may not want me, but you certainly need me. You need me to fuck you so hard you forget all about what happened you. You need me to fuck you, and you need it raw and dirty to forget about that sorry-ass dick you have down the hall because he's not twisted enough to fuck you like you want it, need it, crave it.”

Maria's mind spun, knowing what he was saying was true. She long ago acknowledged she had a dark side, something she feared stemmed from her time held captive, and she fed her needs any way she could. There were things and situations from her past she was not proud of, but she refused to regret her actions, refused to shy away from that part of herself because it was part of who she was.

And Dean had been a big part of that for a while. He was all too willing to fulfill her needs while they were together, and when she tired of him, he took the break hard. She found it almost laughable when he had told her he loved her and indeed laughed in his face at his proclamation. He didn't love her, she reasoned, he loved the image of her, maybe even the power her name represented, but she was adamant he didn't love her for who she was. Who she really was.

And now, to hear those truths about herself from him, it hurt her more than she would ever admit, especially to him.

The sound of Maria's hand against his cheek reverberated through his room as she slapped him hard, maybe a little too hard, to silence him.

Dean turned his head back to her slowly, her hand print already glowing on his cheek, his eyes darkening. He rushed at her quickly, and before she could react, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, and forcing her lips to his in a harsh kiss.

He pushed his tongue into her mouth, his other tearing at the material of her bra again, savagely.

Maria panicked.

During their time together, they dabbled in violent sex, controlled but still pushing that boundary a little too much, but this, this was different and something she didn't want.

For a moment, she froze under his rough hands, his forcefulness, her mind closing down at what was happening.

Then a small voice within her screamed and it built until it erupted from her.

“No!” she yelled and pushed him away from her, adding her abilities and he flew back from her, slamming into the wall behind before falling to the carpeted flooring.

“Don't ever touch me again,” she ground out, her voice dark with anger.

“You know you'll be back. He can't give you what I give you,” he sneered as he rubbed the back of his head where it had hit the wall.

“Michael is a hundred times better than you, and he gives me everything I need, want, or ask for, and he does it a thousand times better than you ever could. He has me begging him for more from just a kiss, while you...” she laughed with disgust, “you need other parts of your anatomy to keep a girl interested.”

She moved across the room to him, standing with her legs astride his on the floor. “You may be a good fuck, Dean, but that's all you are. Good for sex and good in a fight, but as for that thing called a personality, you have nothing.”

She turned to leave, heading for freedom from this man.

“You're a fucking tease, Maria Deluca,” he spat out as she pulled the door open.
She turned back to him, “And you're an fucked-up asshole, Dean Prescott, and you are done with The Company.”
She walked through, leaving the door wide open as she turned in the hallway and headed for the east wing of the house.


She moved off the bed and over to the window, looking out over the vast estate. A few guys were out running the grounds, and she itched to be out there running, burning off her energy, fighting her frustration at the turn of events, but she had two major things to take care of before she could do that.

One was to talk to Mason about Dean being asked to leave The Company. Last night, he had gone a little too far, and while she acknowledged some of that was her fault, the way he had acted was not something she invited or asked for, and it was clear he had stepped over the boundaries.

The second was to talk to Michael and beg him for forgiveness.

She took that thought with her as she hit the shower in the small, compared to her usual bathing space, bathroom, composing in her mind what she needed to say, debating whether to tell him what she almost had done.

She removed her sleepwear, only now recognizing it as some of her old clothing and smiled somewhat that she still fit into the clothes her 15-year-old self had worn. She twisted her hair up and clipped it to the top of her head with an old claw clip she had long forgotten about and showered quickly, only slightly amazed her old toiletries had been replaced with new bottles of old favorite brands, and she wondered who facilitated this.

After drying off, she pulled on her jeans and hunted for a t-shirt in a closet still full of clothing. She grinned as she tugged one from the rail, hot pink in color with the words 'Talk Nerdy to Me' in huge sparkly bubble writing. It fit her snugly but was fine for the walk to her room and her conversation with Michael.


A few moments later, Maria knocked on the oak wooden door, which led to her own room, feeling unsure about just entering the space without announcing herself after the way she left the previous evening. Her stomach churned with her nerves and she jolted when the door was roughly opened.

Michael was surprised to see her petite figure standing out in the hallway, her face a picture of apprehension and contriteness.

He was instantly conflicted by his emotions. The anger he felt all through the long night erupted again, as well as the hurt and confusion he felt at the way she had walked away from him seemingly easily. After everything she told him, screamed at him, and then to effectively throw away what they had built together so easily had been a shock. He never expected that. But as soon as his gaze feel upon her as he opened the door, his heart melted at the sight before him.

“Can we talk?” she asked timidly, finally lifting her gaze to meet his.

“Of course,” he answered his voice thick as he stumbled over the words. He coughed, clearing his throat of its dryness as he opened the door further for her, and she crossed the threshold into the room they had shared.

Her eyes instantly fell on the large bed, the focal point of the room, noting it was still made, and there was not a pillow out of place. She knew from experience he hadn't re-made the bed that morning because that was a chore they did together, and if she should leave the room whilst he was still asleep, upon her return after work, the covers would still be a crumpled mess.

She swung questioning eyes to him, and he shrugged. “I slept on the chaise. I can't sleep in that bed without you,” he answered her truthfully.

He didn't add that although he had laid on the piece of furniture, he hadn't slept a wink all night, going over and over their blowout in his mind and trying to figure out why she would leave him the way she did without a further explanation. He'd be lying if he didn't say he was heartbroken over their impromptu breakup, and even though he knew she was just here to probably grab some clothes, hope flared in him still that maybe, just maybe, she wanted to reconcile or explain herself.

Maria stepped cautiously closer to him, her hand reaching to cup his cheek tenderly, his stubble wiry against her soft hand. “You didn't sleep at all, did you?” she asked, knowing the truth without him admitting it.

Michael closed his eyes at her touch before giving her a slight nod of his head.

“I'm sorry,” Maria whispered.

“No. I'm sorry, Maria,” Michael said earnestly, opening his eyes to her as he cut her off. “I'm sorry I pushed you into revealing something you weren't ready to tell me. I'm sorry that I wouldn't listen to you when you expressed that you didn't want to tell me the details, but most of all, I'm sorry you had to go through all that in the first place.”

Maria sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress giving slightly under her weight. “I'm sorry I told you the way I did.” She looked up at him, her green eyes watery and pleading. “I didn't mean what I said, Michael, about you leaving.”

Michael crouched down in front of her, a small smile forming on his lips as he spoke, his voice full of relief. “You don't know how happy I am to hear that.”

“Don’t leave me, Michael,” she whispered, and he nearly missed her desperate plea, shocked that she was expressing it after what had occurred between them.

“Never,” he reassured her, leaning forward tentatively so he could place a soft kiss on her lips, slowly in case he was overstepping a boundary.

She let him kiss her gently, returning his kiss equally before she placed her hand against his chest, moving him back slightly.

His head titled sharply, looking down at the limb she had placed between them before lifting his expressive eyes back to hers. The shock and pain showing there were not lost on Maria and she worried her lip for a minute, debating whether to continued with her practiced speech. Paul's words sprung into her mind – You can't build a relationship on lies, Maria – and she swallowed nervously, knowing she needed to tell Michael everything.

“I have something to tell you,” she informed him softly, searching his eyes and pleading with him to hear her out without words.

Michael sat back on his heels, not liking how nervous and uncomfortable she looked. “I don't need you to tell me anything else about what that bastard did to you,” he said, speaking truthfully. What she had revealed the previous night would give him nightmares for years, and if there was more degradation for her, something she hadn't told him, he didn't want to know about it.

Maria bit her lip again, and she shook her head before speaking. “It's not about him. It's about me and what I did after I left you last night.”

“What did you do?” he asked fearfully, standing quickly from his position on the floor, his hand nervously running through his hair as he took a step back from her.

Maria also stood and began pacing the room. “I didn't mean to do it. Well, I did mean to do it but I didn't expect that I would, but then I didn't, but I still let him...” she stopped and looked at him, her eyes again pleading with him to understand, to understand her.

“You slept with Dean,” Michael stated flatly his body tense as his mind envisioned her with the other agent. He felt disgust well up in his stomach, and he turned his head away from her, feeling as though she had punched him in the face.

“No,” she replied vehemently, and Michael visibly deflated, a grateful wisp of a smile reappearing on his face, and his gaze fell to the floor. “But I almost did.”

His eyes snapped back to her at her last words, his mouth opening and closing several times, almost comically, as he tried to articulate his next question.

“Almost?” he finally asked.

Maria nodded. “I was in his room, and he had his hand...” she paused, looking up at him again and seeing the distressed look on his face and waved her hand. “Well, it doesn't matter where his hand was.”

“Yes, it does!” Michael's voice rose harshly, his eyes flashing with anger, jealously, and something else Maria couldn't pinpoint in that moment before he spat out. “I can imagine pretty well where his hand was, but I want you to tell me.”

“Michael...” her voice drone off, and she swallowed hard at the bite in his voice, recognizing she deserved it.

“I didn't sleep with Dean,” she repeated firmly. “We did...other things... but I didn't touch him except to push him away when I realized what was happening and what I was feeling and what I was doing, what I was throwing away.”

Michael turned, looking out one of the large windows as his mind whirled with what she was telling him now. He felt a mixture of disgust and pity for what Maria had done, but he was thrilled she hadn't gone through with the act. If she had, he wasn't sure if would be able to overcome that. However, he didn't like hearing that Dean had his hands on her, in her.

“It wasn't right,” she whispered from behind him, drawing nearer to him. “He wasn't you, and I couldn't do it, I couldn't let him touch me the way only you touch me. I didn't want him because there is only one who can touch me like that now.”

She moved up behind him as he stood facing the window, his body rigid from the hurt and betrayal she caused, and she laid her hand against his back. “There is only one person who makes my heart race, only one who can kiss me so intimately that I'm on my knees begging for more, only one I can't live without.”

Her voice broke with her words, and Michael felt his own heart dip at the sound. He hated to hear her cry, to see her tears, and he turned quickly to face her.

“I'm sorry, Michael,” she cried, her tears flowing freely down her cheeks as she shook her head from side to side. “I'm so sorry that I betrayed you like that, and I can only say, if you can see it in your heart to forgive me, it will never happen again. That I can promise you.”

Michael took her cheeks between his hands, stilling her frantic movements as she shook with emotion, the tears still rolling down her face, and his heart swelled at this girl standing in front of him, who, despite what she had done, still had his heart all to herself.

“I trust you, Maria,” he stated slowly, shooting her a small smile as her eyes widened at his statement. “And I know, despite how far you might have gone with Dean, you would never had gone through with it. You wouldn't have had sex with him. And I know because I know you, I know your body and your soul.”

“How can you know me so well, better than I know myself?” she asked with awe.

Michael moved one palm from her cheek down to rest over her heart. “I know your heart, Maria.”

Maria lifted his hand from her and kissed his palm before bringing to her cheek. She rubbed his hand against her soft skin, smiling up to him at the roughness of his hand against her cheek.

A second later, Michael's lips were on hers, softly caressing their plumpness the way only he could. She opened her mouth, pulling his tongue into its warmth so he could lick and tease the inside with strokes that made her whole body tremble with need and want for him.

She roughly tugged at his shirt, pulling at the fastenings and material until it tore under her hands, and she pushed the ragged fabric aside slightly so she could place her hands against his bare chest, the tattered pieces of his button-down shirt hanging limply from his shoulders.

Michael chuckled at her eagerness and deliberately trailed his hands down her body slowly, making her push her frame hard against his and drawing a moan deep from her throat.

Her hands moved to his belt, fumbling frantically with the buckle before she finally released it with a triumphant grin. Her fingers then moved onto the buttons of his fly, groaning slightly that the process of ridding him of his clothes was taking too long.

Michael pulled back from her, his hand reaching to slowly caress her cheek with his knuckles. “Slow down, Babe. I'm not going anywhere.”

Maria inhaled slowly before exhaling and glancing up at him, flashing him a coy look. “Michael,” she moaned, and he grinned at her eagerness. This was the girl he loved.

He moved her back toward the bed slowly, kissing her lazily again, taking his time as though they needed to get reacquainted after being apart for weeks, not just one night.

He removed her clothing at a leisurely pace, kissing each stretch of newly revealed skin as the material was peeled away, Maria was becoming delirious at his touch, his hands, fingers, lips, teeth and tongue gently pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Michael smirked down at the girl in his arms, appreciating her appreciation for his touch before stopping, hearing her groan with frustration before continuing, stoking the fire building within her more and more.

Too much time passed before he moved off her body, standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes wandering freely over her fully-aroused state. She was quivering slightly, the need within her almost too much to bear.

Maria opened her eyes to see him smirking at her. “Whatcha doing, Spaceboy?” she asked lazily, a hand trailing across her abdomen.

“Looking at you,” he replied huskily.

“Like what ya see?” she asked with a wink.

“Hell, yeah,” he countered.

She lifted her hand from her feverish skin, crooking her finger at him, enticing him to come closer.

Michael moved quickly, stripping himself of his ruined shirt and jeans and within seconds he was crawling up her body again, his mouth leaving a hot trail against her flesh as he went.

Michael entered her slowly, steadily, his eyes holding hers. Maria grinned to him as she lifted her hips, urging him deeper as her hand twisted down to clasp his ass, pulling him closer.

He withdrew and pushed back just as slowly, earning a frustrated growl from Maria and he couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped his throat at her expression.

“Michael,” she moaned, “please.”

“Please, what?” he whispered into her ear before biting it playfully and repeating the actions of his lower body just as tortuously slowly as before.

“Faster,” she breathed out just as he shifted slightly, grazing against her g-spot.

Michael trailed his hand down her arm, still moving slowly, until he reached her wrist, then he moved her arm up, twisting his hand into hers, entwining their fingers and pressing them against the pillow over her head.

“Ok?” he asked her, and she knew he was talking about the pressure on her hand. Maria nodded, drawing her lip up between her teeth. He had held her hand down like this before and she was fine as long as it was just one, giving her control with of the other.

He shifted his weight slightly again, stopping his movements as he reached cautiously for her other hand. She watched him, her eyes wide as he moved that one too, joining her hands above her head. He held both her small wrists in his large hand, his other moving back down her body until it stopped at her hip. He grasp her tightly as he started to move against her again, still slow and steady, his hand holding her wrists pressed down into her pillows, holding her in place, his eyes boring into hers.

Maria closed her eyes at the sensation of being held like this, not uncomfortably but restraining, nonetheless. Her hands were useless to her in this moment, and her hips were being controlled by him. Her heart pounded frantically and not from his touch, but from the fear that raged within her. Rationally, she knew it was Michael holding her like this, and he would never hurt her, never force anything from her she wasn't willing to give, but she couldn't quell the anxiety that built within her anyway.

“Maria,” Michael whispered softly. “Open your eyes.”

Maria shook her head slightly, afraid to open her eyes, that her mind would play tricks on her, and it wouldn't be Michael's gentle golden eyes she would see above her, but hard, soulless black ones that haunted her dreams.

“Maria,” he tried again. “Please.”

Maria swallowed nervously, a moan escaping her lips again at Michael’s continued movement within her, and she opened her eyes, staring straight into his whiskey orbs, and she shivered at what she saw there: Nothing but love and devotion.

“Faster,” Maria pleaded, her eyes expressing her wish, as well as her voice.

“No,” he smirked to her, his hand moving from her hip, lifting her leg higher against his waist, opening her more for him, then placing his hand on the mattress beside her.

“Michael,” Maria moaned, “please.”

“Please what?” he repeated.

“Move faster.”

“No,” he answered gently. “I’m gonna make love to you.”

Maria's eyes widened at his statement. Make love! That was something she didn't do. And this man, this one person she felt something for that she had never felt before, he wanted this with her, for her, for them both. The fear built again, but this time it was different because he was making her feel things she had spent years vowing she would never feel, things she didn't think she was allowed or able to feel anymore.

He continued. “This is not just sex, not fucking, but slow passionate love. And I’m gonna be in control. Ok?”

Maria looked at him, and Michael noted the hint of fear that flashed into her eyes.

“Let me love you, Maria,” he pleaded.

He thought he’d gone too far when a lone tear slipped from one of her green orbs, but at her small nod, he smiled and touched his lips with hers, gentle and sweet.

All too soon, the need to touch her overcame his need to hold her, and he let go of her wrists, his fingers trailing down her body to her breast, cupping the weight in his hand and running his thumb over her nipple before he bent to take it into his mouth. He had restrained her for long enough while he manipulated her body to move the way he wanted it to and in his mind, that was an achievement in itself and maybe a start to her recovery.

Maria swept her hands slowly down his body, loving his way his muscles moved under her fingers with each stroke he made within her. A smile spread on her face as she realized she trusted him completely.

Michael maintained a steady pace, not rushed and in Maria’s mind, he continued agonizingly slowly.

She tried to encourage him to go faster, but Michael was getting wise to her ways now, and every time she used one of her time honored tricks, he would stop moving, his eyebrows raising as he grinned wickedly at her, teasing her body with a soft touch to her breast, behind her knee and against her thigh, all the places he knew would cause her passion to climb. She had no choice but to let him have control, and her body shuddered at that thought. However, his hands on her body soothed away her doubts as he continued their lovemaking ever so tenderly.

The fire he had started within her what seemed hours ago leaped and licked at her insides, and she knew she was close.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her hands grasping onto his biceps as they bulged with Michael's movements above her.

Her orgasm hit her hard, and with it, she pulled Michael over with her, him shooting his seed deep inside her as they locked eyes. Maria shuddered with more than the usual orgasmic rush, unable to move her gaze from his as they continued to move as one, drawing the pleasure out.

Michael's head eventually fell into the crook of her neck as they bodies rode the orgasmic wave together, her inner muscles milking him for all he had, demanding more when he felt he had nothing left.

“I love you,” he whispered, unable to keep it in any longer as his body finally stilled over hers, and he lowered himself down, unable to move off, feeling like he would never move again.

Her already rapid heart thumped impossibly quicker at the words that fell lazily from his lips. Her hands slid up his arms, the slickness of his sweat soaked skin making the movement seamless, gliding, until she wrapped them across his broad shoulders and held him close to her, his head turning slightly against her breast, and within moments, she heard his gentle snore, and she smiled at the sound.

She wound her fingers into his hair, replaying his words over and over in her mind. It wasn't the first time she had heard those words in the throes of passion from one of her lovers, but it was the first time they echoed down to her soul and made her body sing louder than it already did, thanks to his almost magical touch. It was the first time they made her heart leap, her nerves tingle, and her head spin and dip at the same time.

He loved her. HER! The one who should be beyond the love of anyone, nevermind this good, caring, gentle man who made her want to be better than she ever had been. Better for him. To live for him. Her thoughts the previous night of her living long enough to take down the one who hurt her so much evaporated, because she knew they weren't just words for him and that he meant every syllable.

She laid there, her arms wrapped around him as the sun shone through the windows, casting faint shadowy patterns across his smooth, slick skin, thanks to the thin material against the glass, her fingers tracing idle patterns against his back while he slept contently atop her, his exhaustion from last night and their intense lovemaking taking over.

She still held him within her, though the feeling was different now that he was soft, and she smiled as she clenched her inner muscles in experimentation.

Michael groaned against her breast, obviously feeling her, and finally he shifted, rolling off her in sleep and to her side, his arms flung in abandonment above his head, his legs wide as his frame dominated their large bed.

Maria raised herself up into her elbow, her eyes observing her body and the marks he left there, marks she gratefully accepted, covering the ones that marred her. Her gaze drifted over to him, and she grinned. Even in sleep, he was impressive.

She turned and curled herself against his side, draping a thigh across one of his and resting it between his shapely legs, her head resting on his chest as her hand settled next to his still peaked nipple.

She was peaceful, her fingers moving slowly over the wide expanse of his chest and Michael's left arm above him moved, wrapping around her and holding her in place.

She swallowed, suddenly nervous, and her stomach dipped with anticipation.

“I love you, too,” she whispered before holding her breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen. She was half expecting the Earth to split open and swallow her whole.

After a few minutes, she finally relaxed against him, closing her eyes and feeling the pull of sleep. His gentle squeeze as he held her closer told her he heard her. He knew. And he loved her back.

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

Hi, everyone. Hope you are all having a great Labor Day weekend.

Sorry I dropped the ball on updating the last couple of weeks, real life sometimes wins in my on-going fight for more writing time. And, just so you know, my updates may be a little sporadic over the next few weeks.

Thanks to everyone still looking and reading this story. I really appreciate it.

Carolyn: Yeah, Dean should have his own descriptive category, right? Thanks for reading.

Chapter 34.

It was Maria's soft, gentle breathing that finally pull Michael from his sleep. On every exhale she made, her breath blew across his nipple, and it was this sensation that eventually woke him.

His arm tightened around her form, pulling her fractionally closer to him. Their bodies were now cool, not searing hot like they had been a few hours ago, burning with passion and emotion that had finally overflowed, and the words he had wanted to tell her for a while fell from his lips as if on their own accord.
But he wasn't sorry because he meant them. Each one of the eight letters which formed the words, he felt with his heart. And the best part was she said them back.

Granted, it wasn't immediately after he uttered the words, but it was his opinion that you don't say that phrase just so it could be repeated. You say it because you mean it. All of it. Completely.

But she had said it when she thought he was asleep and would miss the moment she utterly surrendered herself to him. Regardless of what she thought, he heard her.

Now, while lying in their bed, legs entwined and bodies pressed tightly together, he couldn't stop the almost smug, contented smile that spread across his lips. She loved him. The fear she held in her eyes when he held her down, slowly moving above her, tenderly making love to her, that image would be imprinted in his mind forever. To think he was a cause of that fear, not initially, but in that moment, his actions brought forward all she fought to suppress for so many years. But then, her fear shifted to pleasure and bliss, and he knew they had turned a corner together. Yes, the road would still be difficult, but if she was willing to travel it with him, he was willing to go at her pace.

She moved, turning away from him in sleep and rolled onto her back, and Michael followed her, re-positioning himself onto his side so he could study her.

Her blonde hair was spread out over the pillow, the sheet down by her waist, and he resisted the urge to bend over and taste her skin, just in case it had altered in the last few hours. In sleep, she looked innocent, something she couldn't quite pull off when she was awake. Her body screamed wicked and sinful and begged to be worshiped. He honestly didn't know how long they would have together. He was hoping for forever, but he would take whatever time she gave him, and he was sure it would be a wild ride.

He moved his hand gently to rest on her flat stomach and smiled when the muscles there fluttered slightly, just like they had the night before when he moved slowly over her, making love to her like no other man had. He wondered in that moment if anyone had ever taken the time to make love to her, not just have sex with her, but slow and sensual lovemaking.

He was sure there would have been men in her life who loved her: hell, there was one, maybe two, down the hall, but had they ever tried to be gentle with her, to truly worship her body, and if they had, had she let them? From the look in her eyes when he told her he was gonna make love to her last night, the fear and vulnerability that had flooded her green orbs, told him no, she didn't.

But she let him, she trusted him. She let him restrain her, not completely, but enough to give up a little of control and her fear. The tear she shed alarmed him and he almost stopped, but he knew this was something they both needed. A mutual acceptance and sharing of trust.

He didn't realize his fingertips had been idly tracing patterns across her soft skin until she squirmed a little, and he grinned when she moaned. He moved his hand up, placing featherlight touches over her right breast, and watching as her nipple hardened, her body's reaction to him.

He leaned over, sweeping his lips softly over hers lazily before retreating to watch her reaction.
When she didn't move, he repeated the motion, pressing a little harder this time, making sure she felt him, and he licked quickly at her plumpness of her bottom lip.

This time when he moved away, her tongue snaked out and brushed across her own lips, tasting him. She smiled and whispered, “More.”

“More?” he queried, and at her insistent nod, he returned to her, truly kissing her this time. Slowly, sensually making certain she felt even inch of his tongue as he invaded her mouth once again.

Maria moved her arms from where they were resting against the pillow and wrapped them around Michael, holding him close to her as they greeted each other good morning, her mind idly hoping she could wake up like this every morning for the rest of her life.

Michael rolled, bringing her with him until she was laid out completely atop him, their naked skin meeting as they lips did, and his hands swept gently down her back to rest on her bottom.

They finally broke their kiss, and Maria moved slightly to rest her head on his shoulder.

Michael grinned, unable to keep the words in any longer. “So, you love me, eh?”

Maria's eyes shot up to his, his golden orbs bright and mischievous. “You heard?”

“Of course, I heard you, Maria. I would have heard you if I was asleep,” he said sincerely to her.

Maria ducked her head back down into the crook between his neck and shoulder, but he could feel her wide smile against his skin.

“Best thing you've ever said to me,” Michael added, one of his hands moving up and down her back in soft, caressing sweeps.

Maria lifted her head again, rolling her eyes at him. “You are never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“No way,” Michael said empathetically. “You said it. You can't take it back now.”

“It was a moment of weakness,” she waved it off, though her grin remained.

Michael moved again, rolling them onto their sides so they faced each other, their hips still meeting. “It is the truth,” he said, holding her head tenderly in his hands, and Maria's heart fluttered at his look, somewhere between a gloating 'I know you love me' look and a scared little boy 'please don't take it back[/i]' look.

Her fingers wove into his hair, the tips rubbing against his scalp, and her heart was beating wildly. “I love you.”

Michael grinned. There, she said it again, face to face, eye to eye. He could feel her heart beating, thumping almost against his chest, and he knew the words terrified her, yet she still told him. Yet again, she faced her fears for him.

He leaned to her kissed her gently on the lips, then swiftly on the tip of her nose before pulling back. “I love you.”

Maria beamed at him. “Yeah, you know, I think that makes you certifiable or something.”

“Probably,” Michael agreed.

Maria huffed at him, her smile seemingly plastered on her face as she playfully slapped him against his shoulder.

“Hey, no violence needed, Blondie,” Michael complained.

Maria laughed, grabbing hold of his wrist and shifting her body quickly so she again was on top of him, her knees either side of his waist, straddling his body, and she pinned his wrists above his head.

“Hey, no cheating,” Michael whined with a smirk, knowing she has utilized her abilities to get the upper hand. She was a tiny person in reality, and without her abilities and his willingness to allow her to have her own way, they wouldn't be in this position right now.

She leaned down, sealing her lips over his, taking the lead this time in their kiss, demanding more from him.
When she pulled back, her eyes were dark and mirrored his. “Can we fuck now?” she asked almost innocently.

Taking a huge chance, Michael flipped them, using his own Bender abilities to take the upper hand so she was under him.

“I would rather make love to you again,” he whispered, immediately letting go of her hands and lowering his head to take a nipple into his mouth.

Maria moaned and her hands fell to his head, holding him to her, a stuttered, “Yes,” falling from her lips, and Michael grinned against her.


Two hours later, and Michael and Maria finally left their room in the search of food. They missed lunch, but Maria convinced Greg to at least make a sandwich for them. She offered to do this herself and was instantly shot down by Greg's stern gaze.

So Michael and Maria settled themselves into one of the smaller rooms on a large squishy couch, Maria sitting indian style facing Michael as he sat regularly. Greg placed sandwiches of chicken mixed with bacon and mayonnaise, with a good handful of sliced pickles, on a large plate accompanied with some chips, which was resting on Michael's lap, and both were eating from it.

Maria popped a chip into her mouth, crunched for a few seconds before swallowing and saying, “I need to talk to Uncle Mason today.”

“Why? Whats wrong?” Michael asked, concerned.

Maria opened one of the sandwiches and picked at its contents, lifting a chunk of chicken to Michael's lips. Once he had taken the offered food and was chewing thoughtfully, she continued. “I want Dean out of The Company.”

Michael chewed his food for a minute, his eyes intent on Maria as she shifted a little, obviously somewhat uncomfortable about discussing Dean with Michael after what she had told him earlier. Once she finally looked at him again, he asked. “Do you have that power?”

“Maybe not,” Maria shrugged. “But I don't trust him, and The Company is all about trust.”

Michael vaguely wondered if Maria held something back in their conversion earlier that morning, especially since she mentioned the word trust. Dean had done something she wasn't happy with, something that made her lose faith in her one-time boyfriend, and he knew the one thing that would make Maria this adamant about him leaving was if Dean forced her to do something she didn't want to, and in the context of what happened with the two of them last night, that something had to be sex.

“Well, I won't be sorry to see him go,” Michael returned.

“No,” Maria smiled. “And here I thought you'd be all cut up about it.”

Michael snorted as he lifted another half of a sandwich to his lips, taking a large bite. “Couldn't happen to a better man,” he said, his mouth full of food.

“Ewww, Michael,” Maria complained. “Eat, and then talk.”

Michael gave her his patented lopsided smiled as he finished eating the food in his mouth. “I thought the whole manly man, bad boy, rough guy was what you liked.”

“Yeah, but someone who knows how to eat is also very attractive,” she returned.

“Oh, I know how to eat alright,” he boasted, his eyebrows wriggling up and down suggestively.

Maria rolled her eyes at him, but grinned as she answered, “You sure do.”

Michael's smug look returned as he popped another chip into his mouth.

“Hey! Leave some of the food for me,” she exclaimed with a giggle.

“You snooze, you lose,” Michael answered seriously, grabbing a hold of the last half.

Maria looked at the sandwich and then Michael. Her pout was so natural she didn't realize it was there until Michael sighed, handing over the bread. “Damn sexy pout,” he grumbled, finishing off the chips instead.

*****

Maria knocked cautiously on the door of her uncle's office, shifting her feet nervously as she waited for the call to enter.

She was instantly reminded of a time in high school. It was a few months after her parents death, and she had been summoned to his office to account for her actions which caused her expulsion from school. Thankfully, that meeting had turned out just fine. Maria had always been an intelligent child, boarding on the title 'child prodigy', but, in Mason's mind, Robert and Amy had never pushed her enough. They hadn't forced Maria to skip grades when her school first mentioned the idea, Maria opting to remain with her friends and her parents wanting her to enjoy her childhood. So Mason took this opportunity and arranged for Maria to graduate early and enroll at Stanford University.

The call to enter sounded gruff and angry, and Maria squared her shoulders, standing as tall as she could before entering.

“Maria,” Mason smiled. “For what do I owe the pleasure of your company this afternoon?”

“I need to talk to you about something regarding The Company, Uncle Mason,” she said as she walked fully into the the room. She smiled and nodded her greeting to Edward, Mason's personal assistant who was constantly in his presence.

Mason relaxed back in his chair, resting his chin against his fingers as his eyebrow lifting in a way that told her to continue.

“You know I've never asked for preferential treatment here,” she started. “I just like to be treated as any other agent.”

Mason nodded his head at her statement.

“But last night, there was an incident, and I want, no, I need something to be done.”

“Does this have something to do with the arguments between your boyfriend and your ex-boyfriend?” Mason asked, and Maria could hear the disgust dripping from her uncle's voice.

“Dean said some pretty awful things about me, Uncle Mason,” she answered, hurt by the scorn in his voice when he didn't know the full situation.

“Dean was angry, Maria,” her uncle began. “You know how he was when you started dating Vladimir. He doesn't handle your rejection well. And you and Michael are pretty hot and heavy.”

Maria couldn't believe her uncle was siding with Dean.

“Uncle Mason, he said I was fucked up in the head,” Maria spat out and gloated inwardly as her uncle bristled at her words. He hated when she used the fuck word.

“You do have issues, Maria,” Mason replied simply.

Maria opened her mouth to reply but closed it quickly. Yes, she had issues, she knew this, but she didn't need people like Dean Prescott throwing it back in her face, especially to use it to his advantage to get what he wanted out of her.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before saying, “Things got a little out of hand, Uncle Mason, and Dean went a little too far and... and I want Dean out of The Company.” There. She'd said it.

“Maria,” Mason started, as though talking to a child. “I can't just kick someone out of The Company because had a disagreement with him.”

“Well, I'm sorry, but if you don't let him go, I will go,” she threatened, her disgust with her uncle's easy dismissal over the Dean situation apparent in her voice. “It's him or me, Uncle Mason. I can't stay here with him.”

Mason looked over the young woman sitting defiantly opposite him. Nobody had ever been asked to leave The Company before. Yes, there were rare occasions when an employee had asked to leave for their own reasonings, most notably Harvey Guerin, but Mason could scarcely believe this young slip of a girl asking, no, demanding he force Dean out of their establishment. He fumed a little that she would dare to ask this of him, as if she had some control over what did or didn't happen within this organization. It was bad enough he had to put up with her in the office, and now this...he suddenly sat forward in his chair. “What do you mean, things got a little out of hand?”

“Well, I was in his room, and we were kinda fooling around...” Maria started, feeling somewhat uneasy talking about it with her uncle.

“Stop!” Mason instructed holding his hand up. “I thought you were dating the new guy.”

“I am,” Maria agreed. “But last night, I wasn't.”

“So you thought you'd go and open your legs for your ex?”

“It wasn't like that,” Maria insisted. “Well, it may have been for, like, a nanosecond, but I said no. I didn't want to have sex with him, and he didn't listen.”

Mason stood abruptly, his chair moving backwards with the force of his standing. “What?! Did he try to rape you? Is that what you are saying?”

“Let's just say if I had been someone without considerable strength, last night would have turned out a lot nastier than it actually did.”

Mason's eyes seemed to soften, his vision clouded as he remembered Maria from eight years ago, just after she had been found by her friend and his father. Beaten, slashed, and abused within a inch of her life, and his insides seemed to dip a little at the memory.

He dropped back into his chair. “It won't be easy, Maria. He knows too much about what we do here.”

“Then make it easy. Offer him money. Shit, Uncle Mason, use my money if you want, but believe me, if he stays, then I walk.”

Mason looked his niece in the eye, the determination of her mother shining through. He knew she wasn't bluffing. She would leave, and he had no doubt if she went, then half of his agents would walk with her. Damn Dean Prescott, he thought.

“What if it had been someone else, Uncle Mason? Someone who can't protect themselves? Would you stand for it then?”

“No,” Mason answered. “No, and I won't stand for it now. Not with my niece.”

Maria smiled a little, knowing she had won this battle as Mason turned to Edward and ask him to arrange a meeting with Dean.

“Thank you,Uncle Mason,” she said, moving around the desk to hug him across his shoulders. Mason tensed a little at her touch. Robert and his family had always been a little too touchy feely for his liking, but he accepted Maria's hug and patted her hand.

“Maria,” he started seriously when she released him. “The next time you cut a guy loose, please don't make this mistake again.”

Maria grinned. “Not gonna happen, Uncle Mason. Michael is a good guy, and I gonna keep him as long as I can.”

Mason actually lifted a brow to her comment, but he let it slide as she waltzed from the room.

Maria moved down the corridor in search of Michael. She couldn't wait to tell him the good news, and in her haste she bumped into Sean.

“Hey, Tink. Watch where you're going.”

“Sorry, Sean,” she giggled. “I just need to find Michael.”

“Michael! I thought you guys broke up. Rumor has it you got it on with Dean last night,” Sean smirked.

“Well, the rumor mill is a little behind,” she shot back. “First of all, there was definitely no 'getting it on' with Dean, and second, Michael and I are very much together.”

“Really, it's just that Kyle said...” her cousin started but she cut him off.

“Kyle needs to learn to keep his trap shut,” she huffed. “Yes, mistakes may have been made, and yes, I may have left Kyle's room to go with Dean but...”

“Wait a minute,” Sean stopped her, his hands on her shoulders. “Why were you in Kyle's room? I mean Kyle Valenti, right? Please don't tell me you...”

“Did you not just hear me say Michael and I were very much together?”

“So why were you going to Dean's room then?”

“Ok, so at that moment Michael and I were apart, but the thing is nothing happened.”

“Right,” Sean said, his tone conveying he didn't believe her.

“Sean, it's complicated. Ok?” she sighed.

“Fine,” Sean conceded. “So why were you in the boss' office?”

Maria looked Sean in the eye. “I asked him to let Dean go.”

“Shit,” Sean exclaimed. “No. Really?”

“Absolutely. Dean went a step to far last night. I don't want to work with him,” Maria vaguely explained.

“And Dad just agreed with this?” Sean asked astounded.

“Well, no. I threatened to leave if he didn't,” she answered shyly.

“Fuck, Maria. You didn't.”

At her insistent nod, Sean sighed. “What would you have done if he didn't agree?”

Maria shrugged. “Leave.”

“Well, little cuz, you've certainly got balls. That's all I can say.”

Maria laughed. “God, I hope not. Though I guess the whole phrase – Go fuck yourself- would be interesting if I did.”

“I said balls, Maria, not a dick,” Sean smiled. Only Maria could come to that conclusion.

“Isn't one always attached to the other?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Touche, Oh master,” Sean acknowledged with his hand on his heart and with a slight bow.

Maria smiled. “Oh and I wouldn't go to your dad's office just yet. He's a little pissed at the moment.”

“Understood. I think I wait a couple of hours,” Sean said as they both set off back down the corridor, Sean wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walked.

*****

Some time later, and Sean paced his father's office, hating that the old man was keeping him waiting, as if to remind the younger Deluca who was in charge, who pulled the strings and called the shots. And Sean knew part of that was because of the ultimatum Maria had delivered earlier that day.

Sean had always known it would come to a showdown like this between Dean and Maria. They were too alike. Both bold, expressive, and used to getting what they wanted. Now, what Maria wanted most was Dean out of her life and out of The Company completely, and Sean was inclined to side with her.

He felt Dean returned from his last mission a little darker, a little on edge and mysterious, as though he had something to hide. He made a note to have a serious talk with Alex regarding what had happened on their last assignment, but he hadn't had the opportunity to speak with Alex about it yet.

Now, he had his own reasons for wanting to speak with his dad, though it still concerned Maria. Or more specifically, Michael and Maria.

After observing the two in action during the fight with D'Angelo's men, and from watching them in training, he was about the make the biggest sacrifice in his life. He felt they and The Company would greatly benefit if Maria partnered Michael instead of him. He hated the fact that Michael was fast becoming an outstanding agent, and that he and Maria worked so well together, but he was man enough to recognize that.

He wasn't sure what riled him the most: That he was losing his lifelong sidekick and partner in mischief to Michael in life, or that he was losing the only working partner he had known and the only one he truly trusted within The Company to Michael as well. Whichever way he looked at it, he was losing Maria.

He knew she would eventually find someone who she could love the way she obviously loved Michael, even if she wasn't ready to admit that to herself, never mind anyone else. He just figured he had a couple more years before that happened.

He stopped pacing and stood in front of a mahogany bureau, the top shelf littered with family pictures, and his hand reached for one showing a family portrait of the Deluca family.

In the center was Grandpa and Grandma Deluca, Grammie sitting regally on an elegant, cream-colored upholstered Queen Anne chair. Grandpa stood proudly behind her, one hand in the pocket of his jacket, the other resting on Grammie's shoulder. To one side stood Robert Deluca, equally as proud as his father, with Amy by his side, her smile full and light. In front of them stood a somewhat surly 9-year-old Maria, dressed in a pale pink dress that was all thrills, her blonde curls spiraling downwards wildly and a pink ribbon in her hair. And though her smile was angelic, Sean knew how she really felt about that dress and the way she had stomped on it as soon as she had been allowed to change clothes.

On the other side of Grandpa stood his father, Mason Deluca. He was the physical complete opposite of Robert, his hair several shades darker and his face expressionless. By his side was his wife and Sean's mom, Patrice. She was a formidable woman, her stature tall and rigid, her mousy brown hair was drawn tightly into a chignon at the back of her head. And he was standing in front of them, twelve years old and just about to enter that awkward stage. He marveled again at how little he resembled either of his parents, though his resemblance to his grandfather was uncanny. This always caused Sean to smile, considering the fact that his father was not born Mason Deluca.

The little known fact was Mason had been adopted as a baby, barely out of his mother's womb. The young woman, no more than a child herself, gave birth in an alley beside St. John's Catholic Church the moment Gabrielle Deluca had exited the church after her prayer vigil, beseeching God for another child. She found the girl and baby, splattered with blood, the girl close to death, and her heart took this as a sign from God and with His blessing this would be her child if the mother and baby survived.

The girl and baby were taken to hospital, where her every medical need was taken care of, and when the girl asked the Deluca's to take care of her baby and afterward, disappearing into the night, Gabrielle's prayers were answered.

No one within The Company knew that Mason was anything other than a Deluca, and truly he was, but Sean was aware that there were moments when his father raged against the fact that he wasn't BORN a Deluca, that he felt something was missing. His one true moment of happiness came when Sean's abilities became apparent, proving to the world that Mason was a Deluca. The fact that plenty of people with no connection to the family name were also Benders seemed momentarily lost on Mason. He thought this proved to the world that he was meant to carry the Deluca name having produced a son in a family whose history included a long line of the strongest Bender the world had known.

Sean turned his focus back to the family portrait. Henry Deluca, still unmarried, stood awkwardly to the side of the photo, a physical space between him and the rest of the family. His gaze was almost longing, watching the next generation of the family, and Sean often wondered about his uncle. What was on his mind that gave him such a wistful look?

In Sean's eye's, his uncle was the best uncle in the world, and he knew Maria felt the same. In the past, he was the one they went asked for money when their parents wouldn't give them any. He was the one Sean went to for advice about girls. He was the one who took over the role of father for Maria after her father had been brutally murdered.

The death of Robert and Amy had hit him hard, as it did the rest of the family, but for a while, it looked like Henry was losing his grip on life. Maria brought him out of that with her determination to carry on, to survive the horrors she had been through, and in a world of Deluca men, she shined as brightly then as she did today.

The door to the large office opened abruptly, and Mason stalked into the room.

“I don't like being summoned, Sean,” he bellowed as he rounded his desk and sank into the cushioned chair behind it.

“I didn't summon you, Dad,” Sean returned the frame to the bureau top before turning to face his father. “I asked to speak with you about something important.”

“Ok, so talk away,” Mason instructed, with a wave of his hand.

“It's about Maria,” Sean started, and he paused when he saw a tiny movement at the edge of his father's eye. It was a nervous habit he had when something irritated him, and for a moment, this puzzled Sean. Then just as quickly as it happened, it was gone, and his dad was looking at him expectantly.

“She's already been to see me about Dean,” Mason huffed. “How that girl gets herself into this trouble and then expects me to bail her out is beyond me.”

“When have you ever had to bail Maria out of shit?” Sean asked, his eyes wide at his father's comment. “Maria usually deals with her problems herself. But because this concerns The Company, she came to you.”

“Please,” Mason scoffed. “If she'd just keep her legs closed, she wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. I told her the same thing when she was sixteen, but would she listen? No.”

“Maria listens to one person and one person only,” Sean smiled. “Herself.”

He watched as again his dad huffed at his response, and the curiosity got the better of him. After all, nobody had ever been asked to leave The Company before the way Maria was insisting for Dean to be.

“So, what are you gonna do with the situation?” he asked. “Is Dean being forced out?”

Mason sighed deeply. “Dean will be asked to leave The Company and given a hefty monetary incentive to go so that he will never mention anything, not breathe a word about our organization.”

“Do you think that will be enough?” Sean asked. “I mean, Dean's been here for a while. This is his family, his home.”

“He doesn't have a choice. He tried to force something on a member of this Company that they didn't want.” Mason conceded. “No matter what happened before between them, No means no, and he crossed that line, and I won't tolerate that, not with any person who works here and certainly not with Maria.”

Mason slammed his hand down on his desk. “Damn that boy. He was a good agent, but he went too far with her, and he knows what she went through, what that bastard did to her.”

Sean's anger rose at his father's words. He didn't know that had happened. All that he knew was Dean better leave before he found the older agent because he might kill him himself.

“So,” Mason's voice interrupted his inner threats. “What do you need to talk about Maria for?”

Sean looked at his father before he swallowed nervously. “Dad, I'm sure you have seen Maria and Michael during their training sessions.”

Mason nodded. Yes, he had taken an interest in their training. Maria's abilities seemed to be growing daily, and she was becoming stronger, far exceeding what any of the trainers or he could have imagined. And when Michael joined her, and they combined their abilities, they were formidable. Mason would never admit it, but the strength they shared, the ease in which they moved together, synchronizing perfectly with each other, it scared him. The power oozed from them, and he only hoped he would never be on the receiving end of that.

“Well, I have, too,” Sean continued, oblivious of his father's thought. “And I've also seen them in action, seriously, out on a mission. The way they move together, it's a thing of beauty.”

“And...” Mason encouraged his only son to continue on his train of thought.

“And I think it's time the team of Deluca and Deluca split.”

Mason was shocked at what Sean was suggesting.

“It's not that I don't like working with Maria,” Sean continued. “Because I do. Granted, she's a pain to work with, she's the most opinionated, argumentative agent here. And she's never armed, uses my guns and 'forgets' to return them. I don't trust anyone like I trust her but, I think its time to time to try out Deluca and Guerin.”

“That's not your decision to make, Sean,” Mason said, trying to keep his voice calm.

“I know,” Sean consented. “But I've talk this through with Jim and Charlie, and they both agree with me.”

Mason bristled a little over the fact Sean had discussed this with other workers in The Company before coming to him with his idea. Now his hands were tied.

“I do agree with you. They do work well together, but I'm not sure having them team up is the best idea. They are sleeping together, despite the fact The Company discourages that sort of behavior.”

“They were fucking before Michael joined us,” Sean clarified, and Mason grimaced at his son's choice of words.

“Dad,” Sean fought on. “Trust me on this. Maria and Michael are awesome together. You think The Company has a good track record so far, but put them together, and no one while be able to stop them.”

Mason clenched his jaw at Sean's words, and Sean caught the movement, storing it away to dissect at a later date.

“And you are willing to team up with Max?” Mason asked.

“Max is a good agent. He's excellent with his weaponry. I think we should work out well.”

Mason studied his son for a moment. Sean must really believe this was right, because he was usually very possessive of his cousin, wanting to keep her close and make sure she was ok and well taken care of. If he was suggesting this, he must really trust Michael, because it meant he was trusting him with what Sean considered the most precious thing in the world: Maria.

Mason nodded. “I'll discuss this with Charlie and Valenti.”

Sean sighed, knowing they would agree, and he would lose his partner. He stood, glad the meeting was now over, and headed for the door.

“Sean,” Mason called, and Sean turned back to his boss and father. “It's a good thing you have done, thinking about The Company before your own needs. It shows signs of a true leader.”

Sean beamed at that, happy to have impressed is father without trying.

*****

“So that's it? I'm out because Maria says so?” Dean ground out as he faced Mason Deluca in his overlarge office later that day.

“Because you tried to rape a member of this Company,” Mason answered coldly, narrowing his eyes ar the agent sitting across from him. “And not just any member, but Maria.”

“Rape,” Dean huffed. “She wanted it as much as I did.”

“Did she say no?” Mason queried.

“She certainly didn't say no when I had my hand down her pants,” Dean grinned.

“That's my niece you are talking about, and I would appreciate it if you didn't speak about her like that,” Mason shot back to him, anger spilling through his tone.

“Mason, we both know what Maria is like. She likes it,” Dean countered. “She's a sensual person and really likes to get down and dirty.”

“Enough, Dean,” Mason bellowed, cutting the agent off. “The fact is you tried to take it further, she said no, and you continued anyway.”

“She said no because her feelings for cop boy were getting in the way.”

“But she said no. You know what she went through, and yet you still...” Mason trailed off, not wanting to say it again. He looked at Dean and sighed. “You are a good agent, Dean, an excellent Bender, as well. But you have to leave.”

“I knew it!” Dean exclaimed. “I knew you were ruled by her, as well. Fucking bitch.”

Mason watched as Dean paced the area in front of his desk, the young man wishing every ill he could think on Maria, on Michael and their unborn children.

“You hate her that much?” Mason asked when he paused.

Dean looked at the older man and sank into a plush chair in front of him. “No, I love her. I can't stop. I hate that I can't have her.”

Mason nodded as if he understood what this man was going through.

“I have a proposition for you, Dean,” he finally said.

Dean looked up, his green eyes puzzled. “What?”

“You leave here, you will no longer be part of this Company. You leave L.A. altogether, but...” Mason paused, as if momentarily undecided before he continued. “You will still received money from The Company, you will have a place to live, and you never say anything to anyone about The Company, or about what we do here.”

“What's in it for you?” Dean asked, confused with this offer.

“There may be a time I need you to do something, something I wouldn't trust another to do. And who knows? What I ask may just help you win Maria back.”

Dean thought about this, even more puzzled over Mason's offer, but the thoughts of Maria, of being with Maria in the end, won out.

“Ok,” he answered. “Where am I to go?”

Mason continued to talk to Dean as Edward took notes, the goosebumps prickling his arms, and the hairs standing straight on the back of his neck. Sometimes, he hated his job.

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

Hey everyone, sorry this post is a little late in the day, but its game day, what more can I say?

Many thanks to all still reading this fic, I appreciate it. And thanks to those who have left feedback.

Carolyn: Yeah, things are definitely starting to get interesting, huh?

Chapter 35

Maria walked down the long corridor on her way back from the gym after a much-needed work out. After her talk with Mason and his reluctance to let Dean go, she became frustrated with the way her uncle easily dismissed her claims at first, almost blaming the situation on her. She was the first to admit she wasn't completely blameless with what occurred with Dean, but a girl could change her mind, and a guy should respect that, no matter when she changed her mind.

Was it only this morning when she had no idea if her relationship with Michael was laid in pieces at her feet, when she didn't know if he would forgiver her moments of temporary insanity?
Now, they had exchanged the words, 'I love you', and Dean was on his way out of The Company. She smiled, her mind gleefully thinking her personal life had taken a turn in the right direction for the first time in a long time.

She wiped at her brow again, swiping the sweat she had built up there and then rubbed her hand on her green spandex shorts.

She nodded politely as two of the houseworkers moved toward her on their way down the hall, her grin dropping when they looked at each other and whispered something she couldn't hear at her distance.

As they passed each other, she noted one shake her head, almost in disgust and clicking her tongue.

“Hey,” Maria called out, turning back to them and making them stop in their tracks. “If you have something to say about me, just say it. Don't hold it all inside because I've heard it all before.”

She knew that by now Dean's removal from The Company would be common knowledge, and there were still a select few who thought the agent could do no wrong. Dean was excellent at keeping a public persona for the people who he worked with and kept around him, and many of them had no idea just how vindictive he was in private.

The two workers looked at Maria with astonishment.

“Well,” she probed, resting her hands on her hips as her brow rose slightly.

The two exchanged a glance again before they shook their heads and turned abruptly, hurrying back the direction they were headed.

“Dicks,” Maria mumbled to herself as she too turned and continued on her way, pissed at how in some people's eyes she was the bad one in all this. She could just imagine her fellow workers and the support staff talking about how she used her position within the organization to out an old boyfriend. They didn't know what happened between the two of them, and she couldn't understand why people who were usually so friendly to her could turn on her this abruptly, especially when they had to know they didn't know the full story.

She paused when she heard voices intermingling in conversation within one of the large living areas and moved over to enter the room.

Several people were standing in two clusters before the two large windows that faced out onto the long driveway of the mansion, all talking together as they watched whatever was happening outside. Maria crossed the space and moved over to one of the groups which contained Alex, Tess, and Kyle.

“What's happening?” she asked, elbowing her way into the group.

“Shit, Maria! Make more noise or something,” Alex exclaimed. “I'm too young to die from a heart attack.”

“Maybe we should fit her with one of those bells? Like on a kitten,” Kyle grinned, then at the disapproving looks of both Tess and Maria, he mumbled, “Or maybe not.”

“What's everyone looking at?” Maria asked again, turning to gaze out the window to see for herself whatever was happening that had enraptured so many workers of The Company. She spotted a black, unmarked car in the driveway and two men standing next to it, clearly discussing something, as another lifted luggage into the open trunk.

“Dean's leaving,” Tess answered her, her eyes focused ahead and her voice low. For a moment, Maria idly wondering if the smaller blonde was still hungover as she studied her friend, who didn't once turn her attention from the scene unfolding before them.

Maria turned her focus back to the outdoors. Sure enough, out on the gravel driveway, Dean stood next to his car with Mason beside him and the two were talking while Gavin was placing the last of several suitcases in the trunk. A cardboard box stood on the roof of the car, and Maria could just about make out several of Dean's possessions inside, a corner of an elaborate picture frame sticking out and she shook a little, hoping that picture wasn't the one of her which usually adorned his dresser.

Maria turned her head to the other group of people in the room. Ethan, Dean's Company partner among them. He offered her a weak smile, as though he understood the real reason Dean was leaving, and Maria was grateful he wouldn't take his anger out on her.

She looked back out to watch as Dean shifted the storage box from the roof of his car. Before he placed into the car, Mason said something to him, and they both looked down at the picture among his belongings. Dean smiled to his now ex-boss as he answered Mason and then bent to place the box on the passenger seat of the car, his grin widening at Mason's response.

Maria ached to hear what the two were talking about, especially since she was positive it was something about her, and she couldn't help but wonder what her uncle could have said to make Dean smile at a time like this. Her senses were tingling as she watched the scene unfold, and she did her best to shove the uneasiness to the back of her mind focusing on her happiness about Dean leaving The Company, and her hopefully never having to see him again.

“I can't believe he's taking your picture with him,” Tess commented in disgust, obviously coming to the same conclusion about the picture as Maria, before she turned to her friend to see Maria shiver a little as she was reminded of that little fact. “Hey, are you ok?”

“I'm fine,” Maria gritted out, though her nerves felt like they were pulled taut, and she couldn't wait for Dean to leave the premises.

She turned to her friend, genuinely curious as she asked,“What did I ever see in him?”

“I think it had something to do with what's in his pants,” Kyle returned seriously, his eyes trained outside and a wry smile forming on his lips.

Maria huffed at his frank statement, knowing how accurate her fellow agent was.

Alex looked at his best friend before asking, “Did he really try to.... ya know, with you last night?”

Maria looked at him, knowing he wouldn't be able to say the word rape. Of all the people who knew her personal history, for Alex, it was all too real. He was the one to have seen it firsthand. He was the one able to visualize that room, blood splattering the walls and floor and Maria barely conscious, lying half naked in a pool of her own blood because he had been there... he didn't need to imagine it because he'd seen it with his own two eyes. For him, the knowledge of that room made it all the worse, and he couldn't comprehend that happening again to her.

“Mistakes were made by the both of us,” Maria admitting, making her voice loud enough for all in the room to hear her. “But he went a step too far, and despite what others may think, he sealed his own fate when he chose to go down that road. No means no, no matter what happened previously between us in out history.”

She wasn't exactly sure why she felt the need to vindicate herself to this group of people, but some part of her needed her house mates and co-workers to understand this wasn't some personal vendetta against Dean because he was her ex.

“Where do you think he'll go?” Kyle asked as he draped an arm across Tess' shoulders.

Maria shrugged. “I don't know. And frankly, I don't care. As long as he stays away from me and never comes back here, I'll be happy.”

At the moment, Dean turned in the driveway, staring back toward house, and their eyes met through the window. Maria refused to allow her body to react when he visibly raked his eyes over her, as if imprinting her figure in his mind forever. She felt nothing but disgust for him, and though her skin crawled at his intensive look, she didn't allow him to see how he affected her, even though she wanted to allow her lip to upturn in a scowl and to turn her back on him immediately.

“He's such a creep,” Tess stated, her body shuddering at the blatant look he was shooting Maria.

Several moments passed and Dean still hadn't moved, his eyes holding Maria's still. She refused to be the one to back down from his stare, and they stood deadlocked until they were broken apart by a co-worker.

Alex swore softly to himself before moving, placing himself in front of Maria, and effectively cutting off Dean's view of her. “C'mon, Pix, let's get you out of here.”

Maria stood her ground, growling, “Why should I be the one to leave?!”

“He's the one leaving, Maria. I just don't like him mentally undressing you before he does.” And he placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her around and pushing her from the room without another word.

Maria turned her head once more to gaze out the window, just in time to see him smirk at her and then nod with a grin to her uncle.

Something in his look lingered in her mind, and she felt an unsettling sense of dread. Almost as if this whole situation with Dean was far from over.



From another window, Max, Michael, and Sean were also watching Dean's departure, the three having been watching an old football game on one of the big screen TV's when they heard the news that Dean was being escorted out by Mason, and they scrambled to the closet window facing the driveway.

“Do you know where he's going?” Max asked Sean from the one side of a strangely quiet Michael, who was watching the scene unfold without uttering a word.

Michael's body was firm, his stance wide and his arms folded across his chest as he watched the man he wished to seriously maim talking to Maria's uncle.

Sean shrugged at Max's question. “He'll probably use one of the apartments in whichever city he's going to until he gets himself settled.”

“He should be left to fend for himself,” Michael spat out, breaking his silence suddenly with the statement and shocking his co-workers. “Not treated like he was going on vacation.”

“Dad has the secrecy of The Company to upkeep,” Sean returned. “No matter what the fucker's done, he's still a liability.”

They watched as Dean turned back to the house, his eyes roaming the front of the building for a few seconds before obviously finding the thing he was looking for. When the smirk grew on his lips, Michael's stance shifted, his uneasiness apparent to his fellow agents.

“He's looking at her,” he growled out, almost feeling Maria's agitation from elsewhere in the big house and putting two and two together quickly.

“You can't know that,” Max offered.

“Yeah, he's looking at her alright,” Sean added, having seen that smirk on Dean's face directed at his cousin on more than one occasion.

Michael made to move, his intention clear to his two friends beside him.

“Michael, don't,” Max said, stopping the taller man with a firm hand on his partner's shoulder.

“I won't have him look at her like that,” Michael spat out, his anger bubbling over. “What the fuck does she think she's doing watching him leave, anyway?”

“Maybe she needs to know he has actually gone,” Max offered.

“Michael. It's Maria,” Sean said simply. “She's too stubborn for her own good. She won't back down for anything.”

Dean finally turned back to his car, his smirk still on his face, and the three watched as he climbed in after saying something else to Mason, whose back was facing the house.

“It's over. He's gone,” Sean exhaled, thankful now the fucker had gone because he knew if ever he or Michael had met him before his departure, Dean would most likely be leaving the house in a body bag.

******

It was a few days later and the ping of the elevator announced the floor she requested,the doors opened to reveal a vast room with desks scattered seemingly haphazardly, but Maria was sure there was some logic to their placement. A wall of offices lined with windows and doors were intermittently spaced to one side of the room, obviously housing the higher ranking employees, and Maria strolled from the elevator with ease, her eyes roaming the area for the person she was looking for.

The Desk Sergeant in the precinct's foyer had directed her to this floor and she was assured he would be here somewhere. She couldn't see him, but she did recognize the man over the other side of the room by a bank of sun drenched windows sitting at his desk and working diligently at his computer. She moved across the space gracefully, smirking slightly at the looks of appreciation she received as she passed the work spaces located closer to the elevator.

“Hey,” she said when she finally stood in front of the only man in the room she knew. “Jason, right?”

“Hu huh,” he answered, not taking his eyes from the monitor in front of him, a pencil wedged between his teeth. He waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, he lifted his eyes, recognizing her immediately.

“Shit,” he said quickly, the pencil dropping before he stood sharply from his chair. “Ms. Deluca. What can I do for you?”

“I'm looking for the one with the questionable hair. Is he around?” she asked, tipping her head in the direction of what was obviously Michael's desk.

“Yeah, he's just in with the captain,” Jason informed her, smiling at her description of his partner.

“Ok, I'll wait,” she beamed at him one of her most dazzling smiles and turned to walk around Michael's desk, which was placed at a right angle to his partner's, in front of the bank of windows, looking back into the space. Maria wondered if Michael often turned around in his chair to observe the view out the windows, like she tended to do in her own office, instead of always looking at the one presented before him at his desk.

She knew there were several eyes focused on her, no doubt wondering who she was and why she was in the bullpen, but she ignored them as she settled into Michael's chair, her brows furrowing slightly at how uncomfortable it was. She could never work like this. Her eyes scanned the furniture in front of her, and she frowned. His desk was a mess, paper everywhere and nothing was in order. She itched to set it straight. It wasn't that she was a neat person, in general, as on more than one occasion, Riley sorted out her mess of a desk, but Michael had no one to do that for him and make things easier on him, and she was struck with the thoughts as they occurred, as this was something completely new to her.

Several of the men in the room exchanged glances, bewildered as this unknown woman blatantly made herself at home at Guerin's desk. Obviously, she didn't know how possessive he was about his work space, and when she started to sieve through some of his paperwork, one of them stood and crossed over to Jason to inquire about the mysterious blonde who waltzed into the workspace a few moments previously.

“Who's the babe?” he asked in a low voice, not wanting to draw attention to himself. “And does she realize Guerin will ball her out for interfering with his stuff?”

“The 'babe' is Maria Deluca, Dylan, and you'd better to not call her babe in front of Michael,” Jason grinned, appreciating the surprised look that crossed his coworker's face at the revelation.

“Holy shit!” Dylan exclaimed. “That's his girl.” He looked over his shoulder as Maria settled back into the chair, lifting her legs to rest on top of the desk Michael hated so much and crossing her ankles on the corner, a file in her hands and her slim skirt riding higher on her thighs. “Damn!” he continued as his eyes wandered the length of her perfectly tanned legs.

“Wait,” Dylan spun his head back to Jason. “Maria Deluca... as in the Maria Deluca?”

Jason nodded and indicated to the girl they were talking about. “The Maria Deluca.”

“Lucky dog,” Dylan drew out.

Maria smirked at the conversation she was overhearing as she opened the folder she lifted from Michael's cluttered desk, her eyes dropping to be greeted immediately with a picture of herself. The print was something she thought she would never see in a file on Michael's desk. It was a picture of herself in the aftermath of her parents' brutal murder.

The camera's lens was dialed in on her face, which surprisingly was the only part of her body not marred with bruises or cut marks. Her eyelids were half closed, but she could make out her green eyes, which were normally so vibrant, looked strange and unfocused.

Her heart beat rapidly as she took in all that the picture showed her while her mind registered all it didn't. While it was obvious the girl in the picture had been tortured, it didn't show the degradation she had experienced. It didn't show the nights she forced herself to stay awake so she wouldn't be caught unaware by her tormentor or the times she was unsuccessful and was awakened by him dragging a knife along the side of her breast or moving her body into a position that she tried her best to forget about.

The photograph failed to express the terror she felt knowing her father was useless to help her and forced to watch as their captor used his daughter in whichever way he wanted. Likewise, the image couldn't depict the relief she felt when her dad died, knowing he would be spared any further anguish.

She sat up sharply, her mind whirling with questions regarding why Michael would have this image of her in a file folder on his desk, then she returned her feet to the floor, sitting straighter in the chair.

She had no memory of what happened after Alex and his father found her that day. She had been aware of people around her, rushing and talking in low, frantic tones, hands poking and prodding at her battered and abused body, but it was as though her mind had finally switched off. And once her grandfather, uncles, and Sean arrived, she had blissful sank into unconsciousness, unaware of the drama going on around her as her grandfather demanded she be transported to the Deluca Estate and not a local hospital, and she didn't wake until a week later.

She opened the folder wider, her curiosity getting the better of her, even though her senses were tingling and telling her to put it down, and without another thought, she spread it on the desk, her fingers brushed across the glossy prints, splaying the images across Michael's messy workspace so she could see them all.

The one thing these images had in common were they were pictures of her from the crime scene eight years ago, taken from all different angles. These photographs had clearly been captured after the police were called to the scene, and she marveled that the crime scene photographer had snapped so many before she was rushed from the dining room to the hospital. Her removal from the hospital had been almost immediate, and she was transferred to the large private house, where her life had been saved by the technological advances The Company had developed for it's agents. She swallowed nervously, willing the bile that rose in her throat down as she shifted her gaze from one to the next, attempting to study the snapshots with as much detachment as possible and again wondering why her boyfriend had these on top of his desk.

Another print caught her attention, and her hand shook as she picked it up from the worn desk. This one was different. The image was of her mother, her eyes wide and unfocused, the gash in her neck long and stark against her pale, lifeless skin. Maria's other hand lifted to her mouth, as if she was trying to keep herself from crying out, but she was unable to stop looking at the grisly photograph in her hand.

When her hand started to shake, she returned the image to the pile in front of her. She moved the photos again, covering a particularly disturbing one of herself barely clothed, the thin lines etched into her figure by a knife, oozing blood.

She couldn't help but wonder how Michael could look at these gruesome pictures and still love her. How could he stand to touch her knowing what another man had done to her? She hated that he had seen this proof that she was less than she should be, shattered and broken and unworthy of his love. Telling him what had happened to her was one thing, but for him to have the actual proof in front of him, that was something else. She then remembered he'd received that other photo of her, the one HE had taken and kept all these years, and she shuddered at the thought unconsciously.

“Maria, are you ok?” she vaguely heard Jason ask from across the way, and she nodded her head absentmindedly, her hand reaching for yet another picture. This one was of her father, and she couldn't stop the sob that escaped her mouth when she registered what it was. His eyes were closed, and his naked upper body showed every slash, every cut, the blood dried long before the picture was taken.

The image brought her back to a time in her life she would rather forget, and just as the tears were spilling over and the memory of her father's last moments on this Earth returning, she was brought back to the present.

She heard Michael's voice before she saw him, his bark of “Fuck!” echoing in her brain loudly over the buzzing in her ears and the idle chatter of the bullpen. She felt rather than watched as he stalked over to her, pushing Jason out on the way until he swiveled his chair, moving her away from the desk and the pictures, and he gripped her shoulders, lifting her from the seat and into his arms in one smooth motion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her gruffly, though there was a hint of tenderness there, as well. He hadn't been shocked to spot her blonde head as he walked out of his captain's office a moment before. He had known the moment she entered the area, but when he heard the sob that escaped her, he knew what she had found and knew he needed to be there for her, to explain and to comfort.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she answered, her voice suddenly weak, and her body shaking slightly, her eyes unfocused over his shoulder as her mind flashed what she had just seen in front of her eyes again.

Michael's gaze shifted down to the photographs spread out on his desk. “When will you learn not to snoop in other people's business?”

“Never,” was her soft reply, and Michael chuckled a little, pulling back slightly to look her in the eye, his hand lifting to cup her cheek.

“Why do you have those?” she asked, her gaze flickering unconsciously back to the desk, and Michael quickly leaned past her, collecting the images into a haphazard stack and shoving them back inside the file where they belonged and closing the folder.

“I'm investigating a crime, remember?” he answered, pushing her back down into the chair as he settled on the edge of the desk.

“Not that crime,” she grumbled, seemingly gathering her composure back before squirming a little in the wooden seat. “Shit, Michael. You need a new chair. This is absolutely not acceptable for sex.”

Michael smirked, shaking his head at the woman he loved, again amazed that she could switch so quickly from the vulnerable girl he held in his arms a second ago to the wild girl who had no qualms about sharing her thoughts of sex with him in this work chair. But he knew this was her way of dealing, to store the heartache away until she was alone and could let her anguish out with no one around to see how deeply she was affected by what occurred eight years in the past. “No, not the original crime,” he confirmed before continuing. “But yours and this new one are interwoven. You know that.”

He squatted down beside her. “And as for the chair, you can take that up with my boss, but I really don't think we'll be having sex in it, comfy or not, in a room full of police officers.”

“Prude,” she teased him with a weak smile, accepting his reasoning for why he had those grotesque photographs in his possession.

“Exhibitionist,” he bantered back with a smirk.

She looked pensive for a moment, her mind unable to completely forget the images and she shifted nervously in his chair.

Michael watched her, feeling something he had never before experienced with Maria, almost as if she wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to articulate her thoughts.

“Maria,” he started tentatively, not wanting to push her too much given where they were. “Is there something you want to say?”

Maria's eyes again flickered back to the brown folder amongst the clutter of his desk.

“C'mon, Deluca,” he taunted “You're not the kind of person to shy away from what she wants to say.”

Maria's brain acknowledged his challenge and her eyes swung back to his.

“How can you be with me when you've seen what he did to me?'”

Michael's heart almost broke at her timid voice, so unlike his feisty girlfriend.

“Maria, I love you for who you are. Nothing some dickward did eight years ago is gonna change that.”

“But how can you look at those pictures, see the blood...the cuts...me naked... and knowing what he did, how he used me...how can you still touch me the way you do? How can you make love to someone who is broken...” She trailed off, not really wanting to have this conversation here, in front of Michael's work colleagues, she just hoped her voice was low enough so it didn't carry across the room.

“You're not broken, Maria,” Michael returned, his stomach turning at her lost look and her private thoughts, something born from a situation she had no control over. “Sometimes you're a frightened, lonely girl but you are far from broken. You are strong, independent, incredibly sexy and... well, you're beautiful Maria, inside and out.”

She listened to his words, wanting so much to believe him, but a part of her, the part still trapped within the confines of that dining room with a psychopath intent on hurting her in the most degrading, violent way he could think of, doubted his honesty but she filed it away for another time, not wanting to talk about this here at his workplace.

She forced a grin onto her face as she lifted her hand to his check, her expressive green orbs speaking volumes, and she held his gaze for a few moments before he broke their stare.

“I know,” he said simply.

“What?” she asked, though her shy smile told him she knew what he was saying.

“That you love me,” he clarified.

She rolled her eyes, then smirked to him.

“Yeah. I know, too,” she returned before brushing her lips against his gently. She fully intended to leave it at that, her emotions getting the better of her as in that moment she didn't in the least feel as sexy or as beautiful as he said he saw her, but his tongue followed her movement and then she needed to return her lips to his, this time with more ferocity.

The need to stand forced Michael from his squatting position, and he brought Maria with him, wrapping his arms around her waist once they were upright.

Maria became aware of the stillness in the room the same time Michael did, and they slowly dragged themselves away from each other, turning their heads to see every eye trained on them.

“Ok, show's over,” Michael barked to them all, and several people moved at once, returning to whatever they were doing.

“Guerin,” a stern voice bellowed. “Smooch on your own time. Get back to work.”

“Is that your boss?” Maria asked, moving away from his chair so he could sit at his desk and choosing to lean against the old piece of furniture instead.

“Yep,” Michael answered, picking up the file of her case and placing it in one of the drawers.

“Oooh, are you in trouble?” she teased.

“We can't all own our own multi-billion dollar company and get to head out of the office whenever the urge takes us,” he quipped.

Maria just shrugged as she perched on his desk, crossing her legs, her hands holding the edge as she leaned forward a little. She smirked as his eyes traveled down to catch a glimpse of the cleavage revealed in this position before she spoke. “We all have our crosses to bear.”

She watched him as he tidied his desk a little before she asked, “Do you wanna have lunch with me?”

Michael looked at her sideways, pausing as he held a few folders in one hand. “Is that one of your strange euphemisms for sex?”

“No, it's an invitation to lunch,” she laughed. “But, of course, sex is a given.”

“Of course,” Michael smirked.

“Ok, you finish up. I just have to go have a word with your boss.” And she slid from the desk, bending slightly to retrieve her purse from where she had dropped it earlier.

“Hey, Blondie. What mischief you getting into this time?” he asked, curious as to why she wanted to have a word with his boss.

“Me? Mischief?” she returned with a wink. “Now, which one is his office?”

Michael pointed out the office nearest the elevators, and Maria pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Don't be long, Baby,” and she turned, heading the direction he had indicated.

Michael couldn't help the huge grin at her words. Baby. She'd called him that a few times before, but now he knew what she meant when she said it. She loved him.

Maria moved back through the bullpen, smiling to the many whose eyes followed her before stopping in front of the captain's office, taking a deep breath before announcing her presence.

She knocked sharply on the glass and waited patiently until she was invited in.

Captain Taylor was a tall heavy set man with a large middle-aged spread. He had a long face and his hair was turning gray. He was stationed behind his desk, surveying a few files, from the looks of things, as he occasionally looked up to catch the time on the clock that was mounted on one of the walls of his office.

“Yeah, waddya want?” he huffed, irritated to be disturbed again, before looking up to see the blonde who had just been smooching one of his best detectives.

Maria raised an eyebrow at his grumpy attitude as she sauntered closer to his large desk, noting it was much nicer than her boyfriend's, as well as the desks of most of the officers and detectives in the bullpen.

“I mean, what can I do for you?” he rephrased quickly, almost standing from his seat. There was something about this woman that commanded your attention, and it wasn't just her beauty. It was the way she moved, her posture, her very being almost, and Ken Taylor berated himself for his thoughts as they began to wander.

“I think it's more what I can do for you?” Maria smiled, and the captain almost choked.

“Sorry, I forgot to introduced myself. I'm Maria Deluca,” and she offered him her hand.

“Ken Taylor,” he automatically responded, taking her hand and shaking it slowly. “Please,” he indicated to a chair in front of him, and Maria wrinkled her nose at what looked like an extremely uncomfortable wooden chair.

“I'm good, thanks,” she smiled and dropped her purse on the seat as the captain settled back into his cushy office chair. She wasted no time, setting straight into what she had to say to the man. “I understand my parents' murder case has been re-opened.”

“Well, I... wait... you are that Maria Deluca?”

“Yes,” Maria smiled, amused by his question. “How many Maria Deluca's do you know?”

“Well, none. Only yourself by reputation,” Captain Taylor replied. “I'd just been made Captain when your parents were killed. It was such a tragedy. And I believe it's quite a miracle you survived.”

“I had excellent doctors,” Maria said offhandedly, not at all intent on telling this man the real reason she survived. “Anyway, I just wanted to say if there is anything myself or my family can do to help catch this bastard, then please don't hesitate to ask.”

Ken was taken aback a little at her brash language but then smiled, thinking deep down it suited her. “We'll certainly let you know,” he spoke slowly, unsure how to respond to her statement.

Maria reached into her purse and pulled out a thin rectangle book, earning a puzzled look from the police captain, who didn't realize what she was about to do.

“The Deluca Group would like to offer your department a donation to help improve the excellent work you are doing,” she spieled, secretly gloating that if it wasn't for The Company, the L.A.P.D.'s high-profile arrest sheet wouldn't look so good, and hoping Michael would get a new desk and chair out of this.

Captain Taylor smirked to her, wondering about her motives. “Your boyfriend been complaining we won't give him a new desk?”

“Not at all,” Maria answered, leaning over his desk slightly to write out one of The Deluca Group's checks for the donation. “Michael never talks about his work. That's unethical, right?”

She ripped the sheet from the book and handed it over, dropping her pen and checkbook back in her purse in one smooth motion as she looked “I hope this will help.”

Captain Taylor chuckled at her comment before glancing down at the paper in his hand.

“Holy shit,” he said as he dropped back into his chair.

“So, will that be ok for new computers, chairs...” she grinned. “...And desks?”

“Two times over,” Captain Taylor acknowledged, nodding his head slowly, still stunned at the amount of money the check that he held in his palm promised.

“Well, don't get the cheap shit then,” she quipped as she picked her bag up again, throwing the straps over her shoulder, and without saying anything else, she exited the office before Captain Taylor could say anymore.

He didn't hear her leave as he again looked at the check, noticing her signature was surprisingly girly and frivolous, not something you would expect to see on a corporate check above the printed title of Vice-President.

He whistled low and said to himself. “Look at all those zeros!”

*****