"Why do you want to paint in here? No one's never in here…" Michael Guerin was fully aware of the fact that he was whining. It was all her fault he was crabby. Only Cheesehead DeLuca would knock on his door at 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning to paint his bedroom.

"And why do you suppose we’re never in here?" She asked turning to him, obviously expecting some embarrassment on his part at the mess. She dropped the tarp she was carrying on the floor and set the two paint cans down next to it. There were paintbrushes sticking out of the pockets of her shorts, and her blond hair was tucked under a black bandanna with little silver and green alien faces on it. She looked adorable. Maria kicked at the mattress on the floor covered with books and clothes and gave him a look that said "no wonder you sleep on the couch".

"Because Maria, if I ever got you on a bed you’d be in big trouble…" he growled and shoved another spoonful of corn flakes into his mouth trying to avoid staring at her legs. He could see a lot of them. Maria looked at him, her full lips curving into an amused smile, and hopped onto the mattress with her hands on her hips, striking a mock sexy pose.

"Oh yeah? What kind of trouble?" He took another bite of his cereal and closed his eyes, concentrating.

She was just thinking how cute he looked with his face all scrunched up like that when he sent her an image of what he thought she would look like tangled in his sheets with him. She stared at him, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"You ready to get off now?" he mumbled over another spoonful and she blushed even harder. He smirked coloring a little himself. "I meant off the bed…" another bite. "Get your head out of the gutter…"

"My head?! You’re the one sending me sex flashes!"

"You should be honored. I don’t flash just anybody."

She stuck her tongue out at him and hopped off the bed, smacking his butt with one of the paintbrushes from her pocket on her way back to the tarp. She lifted the corner and looked at him expectantly.

"What? I’m eating…"

"Yeah, what’s that - like your THIRD bowl? You know something? I don’t think you’re hungry at all -I think you’re trying to put off helping me!"

"Boy are you smart. That’s exactly what I’m doing." Her mouth dropped open and her eyes narrowed in a look he was familiar with complete with nose scrunch. It was worth the effort of annoying her (not that it was too difficult anyway).

"Shouldn’t we move all the crap outta here before we actually paint?"

"You move it – I’m not you’re maid…"

"No, you’re my alarm clock. Why are you here so early anyway?" "Because, Spacecase, Valenti spent the night – shudder, gag,vomit - and I didn’t want to have to make nice with him this morning over breakfast."

"So you decided to torture me instead…"

"You said it was okay if I painted!"

"I didn’t know I’d have to help…and at the butt crack of dawn no less…" he groaned and set the bowl down on the dresser. "Besides I knew if I didn’t say yes you’d just bug me until I did."

"Got that right, bucko. Help me with the tarp…"

They spread the clear plastic out over the mess, and she sat down with one of the paint cans between her knees fiddling with the top. After a few unsuccessful tries at opening it she glared up at him where he was leaning against the wall watching her with his arms crossed in front of his chest trying not to laugh. She tapped on the lid with the mixer stick. "You do realize I am not leaving you alone until this is done?" she sighed and bowed her head to hide a smile, realizing he didn’t necessarily view that as a threat. "Be a guy…" she mumbled. "Open this" He knelt down in front of her and put his hand on the lid concentrating and looked up when they heard the soft "pop" of it opening. His hand brushed the inside of her thigh as he let go of it.

"You remember what happened the last time you asked me to ‘be a guy’…" he bit his lip and winked suggestively and she shoved him away giggling.

"How could I forget. But I don’t need to be calmed down right now pally I need you to grab a brush and start on the wall – you do two and I’ll do two." She got to her feet and squinted at her project.

"God, what color is that? It’s like rancid mayonnaise…ugh…if we weren’t changing it I would never be able to set foot in here…"

"I still don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with making my bedroom look nice…" Maria took a brush and dipped it into the can then ran it slowly down the wall giving him a hot look.

"Think about it…Why would I want to be in here with you?"

Hmmmm…

"I can’t have fun in a room that looks like the inside of a six month old Hellman’s jar okay? You catching on yet, Spaceboy?" He grinned at her.

"What kind of fun…?"

She sighed and took another deliberate swipe at the wall with her brush.

"Why don’t you finish your two walls and then ask me…"

She gave him another look. Okay yes. That was the motivation he needed. He grabbed a brush and almost tripped over a pile of books under the tarp as he scrambled to get to his first wall.

*~*~*

He finished both of his first, and when she complained that he had cheated by using his powers he gave her an innocent look and said, "You didn’t say how they had to get done.”

She still had one left and he had thought about taking a nap, but then decided it would be more fun to bug her. He laid down on the floor trying to get in her way as much as possible, and she, determined to show him that she wasn’t going to let him bother her, stepped over him, stepped on him, and every once in a while dripped paint on him.

He wiped a glob off of his cheek and grinned, getting an idea. He reached out and traced a dark blue squiggle around her anklebone, then, really getting into it, stuck a finger into the paint bucket and started making little swirls and patterns on her calves. It made him think of that night a few months ago when she’d taken him to the pond and they’d laid under the stars decorating each other’s skin with mud. He had had free reign to her body in the name of art.

She was still trying to ignore him, but he felt her trying not to giggle as he drew a half moon on the back of her knee. They hadn’t really talked about what had happened that night. She had apologized the next day at school and he had just shrugged and looked away like he couldn’t be bothered to accept it. He hadn’t known anything could hurt that bad – her doubting him when he said he loved her. He hadn’t said the word since, and they had tactfully avoided talking about that night.

They hadn’t talked at all until that whole flashes incident, where they suddenly decided to prove that they could be just as explosive as Max and Liz if not more so if they wanted to be. He had told himself he was getting into it because he wanted access to clues, but if he was honest it was more of an excuse just to touch her again. And once he did…the things he saw…He saw her as the little girl she was, as the woman she is. He saw her happy, he saw her sad, he saw her laugh and he saw her cry. He saw himself as she saw him. In her eyes he was worth something. He was special. She understood him when he barely understood himself. He thought he pushed her away again because she lied, but that was just another excuse. He had been getting afraid again. Afraid to admit to himself that he still felt the same way he had that night at the pond. He still loved Maria Deluca.

But they were just friends now. Their last kiss had been in his apartment on the couch when he had pressed his lips against her forehead and thanked her for wanting to be close with him, for wanting him around at all, and since then they’d gone back to fighting/flirting mode which was driving him just as crazy as it ever had if not more so because of the fantasies he had seen in her head that began way back before she ever knew where he came from. Plus, the flirting wasn’t as innocent anymore. It was more deliberate, almost a dare. All he knew was that someday one of them was going to call the other’s bluff and the result would be either fantastic or horrible. Either way, he didn’t know how much more of it he could take.

She had stopped painting. He looked up at her from where he was on the floor and absently continued drawing in swirls of paint up the length of her leg, his fingers just slipping under the ragged denim line of her shorts before traveling back down again. Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted and he wondered what she would do if he pulled her down onto the paint-splattered tarp with him. He wondered if she would kiss him back.

The radio was playing some mellow Sarah McLachlan song that he shouldn’t know the name to, but did because of her, and it was dark in the room and warm, and the paint that slid over her skin glistened in the sunlight creeping in from the hall. She looked down at him, her lips still parted in the exhalation of a few shaky breaths and all the teasing was gone from her eyes. He wasn’t smiling either. She put her hand over his that had paused just below the edge of her shorts, her fingers sliding in between his as she slowly knelt down beside him. He let go of her hand, and reached up to touch her face, pushing the bandanna off her hair and running his fingers through it leaving blue streaks there tangled with the gold. She traced his cheekbone leaving a wet trail with the paint she had picked up from his fingers. She slowly leaned over him, her lips brushing the tip of his nose, then his upper lip in barely a kiss as his blue hands slid up her neck, into her hair, gently urging her to come closer. The song on the radio ended and another started up.

"Oh my God!" Maria’s head shot up as he lifted his head for a kiss that ended up landing under her chin. It was nice, but not what he was going for. "My mother loves this song!" she grinned at him as he rolled his eyes and flopped back down on the tarp momentarily defeated, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He heard her get up, then opened his eyes in surprise as he felt her climb on top of him, straddling his waist and playfully dragging her fingernails lightly down his chest as she sang along.

"Oh, come on, come on, come on, come on!

Didn’t I make you feel like you were the only man —yeah!

Didn’t I give you nearly everything that a woman possibly can?

Honey, you know I did!

And each time I tell myself that I, well I think I’ve had enough,

But I’m gonna show you, baby, that a woman can be tough."

She twisted her fists in his shirt and pulled him up to her, briefly pressing his forehead against his and singing against his lips.

"I want you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it,

Take another little piece of my heart now, baby!

Oh, oh, break it!

Break another little bit of my heart now, darling, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Oh, oh, have a!

Have another little piece of my heart now, baby!

You know you got it if it makes you feel good,

Oh, yes indeed."

She let go of his shirt and stood just as he was moving in again. This time he got her just below the hollow of her throat. She slinked away from him, moving like liquid to the other side of the room where his paintbrush laid forgotten on the floor. She picked it up and turned back around to him on the beat and sang into it, holding it like a microphone, and pointing at him.

"You’re out on the streets looking good,

And baby deep down in your heart I guess you know that it ain’t right,

Never, never, never, never, never, never hear me when I cry at night,

Babe, I cry all the time!

And each time I tell myself that I, well I can’t stand the pain,

But when you hold me in your arms, I’ll sing it once again."

She danced over to where he was still lying on the floor staring at her, completely amazed.

"I’ll say come on, come on, come on, come on and take it!

Take another little piece of my heart now, baby.

Oh, oh, break it!

Break another little bit of my heart now, darling, yeah,

Oh, oh, have a!

Have another little piece of my heart now, baby,

You know you got it, child, if it makes you feel good."

She took his hand and pulled him up to his feet and leaned over to dip the brush into the paint again as his fingers slid down the curve of her back. She turned to him giving him a sexy look, slyly putting the brush in his hand.

She curved her body around his, pressing her chest against his back still with her fingers wrapped around his holding out the brush. She guided his hand, sliding the brush up and down the unfinished wall, her other arm around his waist.

"I need you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it,

Take another little piece of my heart now, baby!

oh, oh, break it!

Break another little bit of my heart, now darling, yeah, c’mon now.

Oh, oh, have a

Have another little piece of my heart now, baby.

You know you got it —whoahhhhh!! "

He turned around suddenly, dropping the brush, and kissed her full on the lips, letting Janis finish the song on her own.

Take it!

Take it! Take another little piece of my heart now, baby,

Oh, oh, break it!

Break another little bit of my heart, now darling, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,

Oh, oh, have a

Have another little piece of my heart now, baby, hey,

You know you got it, child, if it makes you feel good.

He saw her in the nookie motel lying on the bed and leaning over the edge to look at him, resisting the temptation of murmuring "We can share."

He saw her leaning into his kiss, wanting more that first time in the café when Max and Liz had gone on his vision quest (which he used to be bitter about, but considering what happened with Maria, he figured he could let it go).

He saw her memories of that night at the Crashdown during the heatwave. He watched them blur into fantasy as he saw her imagining them going farther than they actually had.

She pulled away before he got to see how far exactly and he groaned "Cruel, cruel woman…" as she busied herself with capping the blue paint and gathering up the dripping brushes. She wasn’t looking at him. He knelt down in front of her and put his hand over hers on top of the paint can. "What’s wrong?"

She looked up at him and nervously tucked a blue lock of hair behind her ear. "I thought we weren’t going to do that anymore…I thought you didn’t want too…"

He blinked at her. "Are you kidding me? After that performance? Alien or not I’m still a guy. I’m not made of stone…"

She bit her lip, trying not to smile and said carefully, "What happened to ‘the Wall.’"

He didn’t even hesitate.

"That fell down a long time ago."

He leaned forward, his lips just brushing hers when she pulled back again. "What…?"

"I’m hungry."

"Yeah, so am I…" he growled, leaning in again and almost falling when she got to her feet.

"Seriously." She giggled. "You’ve had ten bowls of Cornflakes and I’ve had zip today so…do you have any food you haven’t molested with tabasco sauce yet?"

"Man, are you picky…check the fridge--there’s probably some fruit and stuff…"

"Thank God for Isabel…" she smirked as she skipped out into the hallway moving her hips to the next song on the radio. He watched her for a moment then flopped back down on the floor.

"Yer killin’ me, Deluca!" He was answered by a soft laugh floating out from the kitchen. He rolled over on his side and looked at what was left of her wall. It was practically done thanks to their little paint dance. She was good. Real good. Just like a girl getting him to do something under the possible reward of ummm what’d she call it? Oh yeah, he smiled, fun. Not that he was complaining. He never knew painting a room could be such a turn on. He grinned and placed one hand over the finished part and the other over the "rancid mayonnaise" part and watched as the blue bled into it until it was a nice even navy. He was getting good at this stuff. Living alone helped. If he couldn’t sleep (which was usually a given), he was able to practice as much as he wanted without worrying about Hank bursting in and asking what the hell he was doing. For some reason it was even easier with Maria around. Painting his two walls had been a cinch. He figured he probably didn’t stress about it around her because she wasn’t expecting too much Samantha-Jeannie-alien-thing/secret powers mastery since that little incident where he’d fried her car. It was different with Max and Isabel.

Whenever he tried to use his powers in front of them, they always watched so closely to make sure they’d be on top of it if he blew anything up. Plus, they were good at their powers. They always had been. He felt like a loser when he screwed up in front of them. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t nervous around Maria. She already knew he was a loser.

She had been completely justified in not believing him. He’d never given her any reason too. If you loved someone you let them in. That’s the kind of love you read about – the kind you were taught to believe in when you were a kid. But what about the kind where you keep people out because you love them? Or the kind of love that’s so strong your heart pounds with fear at the idea of admitting it, saying it out loud to yourself and to her.

He had taken a risk that night, and for a while there it had seemed worth it, like he had done the right thing. For once he’d done something right for himself and for her. But he messed it up by being who he was, what he had made her believe. That whole I-am-Michael-Fucking-Stone-Wall-Guerin speech was going to haunt him for the rest of his life even though that hardness, that wall was long gone. The last of it had crumbled to dust and had been swept away by her fingers lightly stroking his hair and back as he cried in her bed.

He’d taken her hand and led her to the equipment cage that day, weeks after that night because, yeah he wanted to see if either of them would see anything, but also because he wanted to see if he could still do this. Still touch her, be around her without losing his head, without falling into that abyss of cedar oil and softness, the flowery scent of her hair and the warmth of her mouth and her hands. He found himself loving her again - how could he not after seeing her so completely, after she had let him in and trusted him with her memories – the good with the bad. He was more in love with her then he would ever have thought possible. It blew what he had felt for her at the pond completely out of the water and left him shaking.

He was almost grateful that she had been lying. It hurt, but not as much as feeling this way about her and knowing that she didn’t feel the same about him. He used her lie as an excuse to try and shut himself off. And he had been doing okay until she came to his apartment and told him that she had wanted to be close with him. The wall he had frantically been trying to rebuild tumbled to the ground and he kissed her forehead murmuring a soft thanks, not sure if she knew how much that really meant to him.

She had been the one to propose the "let’s be friends" thing, and he had been the one to start all the suggestive banter, first because he was testing himself, and then because he couldn’t help it. They egged each other on. It was something in their personalities, their blood that couldn’t leave it alone.

He could never just be friends with her. You love your friends but you don’t love them the way he loved her. Plus you don’t want to jump on your friends, and he had to restrain himself from pouncing whenever she gave him one of those looks – those heavy lidded, lips parted looks whether offered in teasing or not. He was attracted to her, always had been. And it wasn’t just physical - not any more – no matter how hard he was trying to get back to that place where she was just a girl, who maybe understood a little bit of his loneliness and pain but was mostly just a body to hold on to when he needed to forget, needed to pretend for a short while that he was human and was allowed to feel those urges. He was still trying to get back there, to that place. Maybe that’s what he’d been doing when he kissed her in here, trying to make sure he wanted her body and nothing else. Well obviously that experiment failed miserably because here he was lying on a plastic tarp that ! was sticking to the bits of his exposed skin from the heat, getting dizzy from the paint fumes and those intense feelings he’d been trying to keep locked up.

*~*~*

Maria Deluca hopped onto the counter and bit into her apple, swinging her legs back and forth trying to calm down. It was so weird of her to flip out like that. She had been asking for it, she’d been wanting it. They could only flirt for so long before something happened. They’d always been that way. All that build up and then bang an explosion of touches and kisses and sighs and....in this case - paint.

She tilted her head to look at the bedroom. All she could see were his feet. She smiled and turned her attention back to her apple. She hadn’t really been hungry. She knew exactly why she had stopped, why she’d pulled away. She did it because she wasn’t sure what it was anymore. Kissing him. At the Crashdown the first time it had been because she was worried and she was getting him worried and to stop her from making him freak out any more than he already was, he’d kissed her. During the heatwave…well that was interesting…and it had been because…because the heat was messing with everyone’s hormones? No – at least it wasn’t like that for her. She had wanted to jump on him for years. Maybe it was the heat that got to him…but not her. Either way they’d both taken advantage of it. And then that kiss on the dream plane she’d given him. That was all she could do for him then. Offer him her love with a kiss and hope he found his way back to her, t! o all of them.

That look he gave her, what he said when he woke up. It had given her hope, made her think that maybe he hadn’t meant what he’d said at that stupid rave. And then he hadn’t talked to her, hadn’t so much as glanced her way in weeks, and when she called him on it after a little fighting (which was actually kind of a relief after all that horrible silence) he…did the sweetest thing…and then he’d said it again. He had to be a stupid "stone wall" - but at least that time he admitted that she made him feel something.

He kept doing stuff like that…whenever she was beginning to think he didn’t care he did something that just showed her how much he did. If the napkin holder had surprised her, his little wrestling stint had shocked her speechless. But again, after the kiss came the shut down. Back to ignoring her until that rainy night where for some reason he had let her be there for him, let her wrap her arms around him and try to give him some amount of comfort. That was the first time he had ever intentionally come to her for help. He had just taken her car. He had let her help him when he was sick because he was delirious and unable to reject it. And every time she helped him whether it was wanted or not, every instance of closeness, even the slightest hint of it, was marked by an immediate silence afterward. The one after the police station hadn’t been as long though. It ended that night only to be started up again the next morning. She still thought about it. All the time.

She thought about that amazing night where she saw who he really was and he confirmed something she already knew and had known for some time. She loved him. So much it hurt. It was ironic that she was the one who had ultimately pushed him away. He’d been everything, done everything, said everything she had ever dreamed about and she had pushed him away because she thought it was too good to be true. She knew from experience that whenever you let yourself get too happy something inevitably comes along and messes it all up to keep you from getting too cocky, too optimistic. But she’d ran after him anyway, in an effort to repair the damage she had done, in an effort to reclaim that dizzying happiness that came with the words "I love you". But she was too late.

Apologizing wasn’t enough and she knew that even as she said she was sorry.

And so there was another long torturous month of ignoring each other. Even Liz noticed it – how they didn’t even fight anymore. Maria couldn’t bring herself to tell her what had happened. It was private. It was between her and Michael, the pond and the playground.

She had been so nervous about approaching him at the bleachers, but she did it anyway because she was sick and tired of leaving it up to him to come to her. Especially because a part of her knew he never would. So what did she do? She appealed to their shared belief that Max and Liz were inexperienced as eraser room patrons and that if they had been able to generate some information so could they. She knew he would respond to it. Finding out where he came from was more important to him than being mad at her. And it was sick, she knew, opening herself up to being used, but she really believed that if she was able to share something like that with him, he’d realize that they had found each other for a reason, that they were meant to be. And Maria knew they would see something, she knew they would get the flashes because they were meant to be. She wasn’t afraid. Because Michael Guerin was the real thing. He was The One.

She was crushed when she didn’t see anything. When she didn’t see the stars. And so she lied. She lied because she wanted that closeness, she wanted them to be meant for each other. And looking into his eyes, seeing the tenderness there, feeling his gentle caresses, and kisses, so careful like he was afraid she’d break…It was almost like being at the pond again. Lying under the moonlight painting each other with mud (and no, the significance of his little side project in the bedroom earlier was not lost on her), whispering "I love you’s", swinging on the swings and spooning under a tree as the sun prepared to kiss the earth good morning. The atmosphere was completely different, but the feeling behind it had felt the same. She started to believe that they had found each other again, that the flashes, although important, were not necessarily the only issue anymore. That’s why she had stopped lying, why she had told him the truth. She knew he’d be upset but she told him anyway.

This time she didn’t wait a month before approaching him. She knocked on his door and was honest with him about why she lied, but left out all the stuff having to do with that night at the pond. That obviously fell under the Never Talk About It category.

But she wondered now…if he wanted to talk about it, sort things out. Is that what his kiss meant? Or was it a Heatwave kiss? A build up and explosion kiss with nothing much behind it but lust? It couldn’t be a Flashes kiss since it was obvious she would never get any, and her life wasn’t so interesting he’d want to see any more of it. She wouldn’t let herself think it was a That Night kiss. Because if she convinced herself it was and she fell again she wouldn’t be able to get back up.

Michael wandered into the kitchen scratching his stomach, and hopped up onto the counter next to her. He took her apple out of her hand and took a bite and she smacked him on the arm.

"You were just lookin’ at it anyway. Are there anymore left?"

"Nope that was the last one…" she reached over and grabbed it back and took a bite. "If you promise not to ‘spice it up,’ I’ll share…"

He nudged her knee in agreement and they swung their legs back and forth together, kicking at the cabinets below with their heels, filling the room with "thumpthump" noises and crunching.

"So why’d you choose dark blue?" he asked chewing and handing the apple back.

"It makes the room darker so you’ll be able to sleep better…" she took a bite and studied what was left of their lunch as he stared at her.

"Thanks…" he said softly. She smiled crookedly and shrugged holding out the apple.

"You can finish it…" he said.

They sat there together quietly, still swinging their legs back and forth until they briefly tangled with each other, his ankle over hers, calves and thighs pressed together. She tossed the core into the wastebasket and slid off the counter and stood in front of him, leaning her elbows on his knees.

"We still have a little bit left to do…"

"I finished it."

"You finished the blue part…"

"What other part is there?" he asked suspiciously trailing after her back into the bedroom.

"It’s a surprise…" She picked up the second can of paint swinging it a little by the handle. "Do you mind?" he took it from her and popped the lid open as she grabbed the blue brushes and skipped to the bathroom to rinse them off. "Put on some new music…" she called out over the running water.

When she came back out he had just popped in a CD and was in the process of turning it up. The first heavy chords filled the room and she wrinkled her nose.

"Don’t tell me – Metallica…"

"And what’s wrong with Metallica?"

"They’re just not…"

"Not what?"

"Conducive to twirling…"

"Twirling?"

"Twirling."

"I’m not even going to ask…" Her metaphors for fun were getting more interesting that was for sure.

"And you can’t dance to it…" he started to say something and she held up a paintbrush to stop him. "Head banging is not dancing. I can’t do it – I get so dizzy. Liz and Alex and I tried to recreate the scene in Wayne’s World once when "Bohemian Rhapsody" came on the radio and Liz got a headache and I felt like I was going to fall over even though I was already sitting. Alex was the only one who made it all the way through…maybe it’s a guy thing?"

"Fine" he sighed and popped out the CD.

"Have anything else?" he ran a finger down the stack of CDs, reading out the names.

"Metallica, Metallica, Metallica, Metallica, Sixteen Stone-"

"You have a Bush CD?"

"I guess so. I don’t know where it came from. Probably Isabel. She’s trying to lure me away from Metal…you know, next step down is alternative…which is where I guess this comes in and I guess I can handle it…but once we get into Lilith Fair territory she is banned from my CD player."

"Put Bush in – Gavin Rossdale’s-"

"So sexy, he’s a stud, he’s a stallion, he’s a hot-tie" he mimicked in a girly voice rolling his eyes as he popped in the CD. Maria stood there giggling and when he turned to look at her she smirked, "I was just gonna say he’s got cool hair…but if you say so…" she giggled again "Is there something you’re not telling us?" He scowled at her and pressed play.

"Put on "Alien"..."

"Okay, which track?"

""Alien"."

"What - I heard you - what song do you want?"

"No, not you…" she erupted into another giggling fit and stumbled over to him picking up the CD case and pointing at the last track. "The name of the song is "Alien"."

"No wonder I avoided it." He mumbled and she set down the paintbrushes, taking his hands in hers and leading him to an area that was more less mess free.

"What are we doing…?"

"Dancing. That is if you think you can handle it without groping me…"

"Hey I don’t grope - I knead…" She snorted and collapsed against his chest laughing.

"I can’t believe you just said that."

"You gonna tell me what to do or am I just gonna stand here while you "twirl" around me?"

"Okay, okay sorry." She took his arms and put them around his waist, then brought hers up, resting them lightly on his shoulders.

"You’re not gonna make me count are you?"

"No…" she smiled and carefully rested her head against his chest. "Just listen to the music and sway. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you…"

I won’t let you drown

the satellite comes and goes

we give each other all we know

in silence we still talk

by the light of the stereo waltz

and will you rain down

in your cinematic love truck

I want to hold you like nothing’s going to stop us

she come to take me away

its all that I needed

I don’t breathe another lover

It was so easy, holding each other, melting into each other, his hands slowly crept up from her waist and were against her shoulder blades, gently cradling them in his hands as her fingers lightly stroked the back of his neck. She closed her eyes as she rested her head against his heart. She loved this, being here like this, without torturing herself over what every touch, every look meant. Music sometimes made her forget. It made her live in the moment and just enjoy it. And if anything happened she could always blame it on the music.

flicker on a T.V. screen

everything’s more than it seems

the mighty backward fall

stare at the light on the wall

I swear to this

she felt like velvet

second blond child like velvet, velvet

she come to take me away

its all that I needed

I don’t breathe another lover

She felt him relax in her arms, felt him rest his head on her shoulder and breathe her in. She felt his lips graze her skin and she held him tighter.

He felt his heart racing out of control. This was dangerous, like swimming under the moon or lying beside her in the darkness tracing patterns to another world on her body. Like kissing her shoulder and not trying to block out what he was feeling.

I’m an alien

you’re an alien

it’s a beautiful rain

beautiful rain

I’m an alien

you’re an alien

it’s a beautiful rain

beautiful rain

I’m an alien

you’re an alien

it’s a beautiful rain

beautiful rain

beautiful rain

beautiful

beautiful

He saw her trying to work up the courage to talk to him when she saw him sunning himself on the bleachers that day.

He saw her cry when she was alone in the eraser room because she hadn’t seen the stars. Because she couldn’t give him what she thought he needed.

she come around again

He saw her arguing with her mom about Jim Valenti and her mom arguing with her about him.

oh she come around again

around again

around again

He saw her running out of the playground after he had stormed off.

He saw her eyes fill as she realized he was gone.

He saw her back in her room crying into her pillow, and swearing that if he ever forgave her for hurting him she’d never ever do it again. She would die first.

I’m an alien

you’re an alien

it’s a beautiful rain

beautiful rain

I’m an alien

you’re an alien

it’s a beautiful rain

beautiful rain

I’m an alien

you’re an alien

beautiful rain

beautiful rain

beautiful rain

alien

alien

alien

alien

alien (beautiful rain, beautiful rain, beautiful rain)

alien

alien

alien

alien…

"There…" she whispered as she tilted her head back to look at him. "That wasn’t so bad was it?"

"No…it was…it was nice…" She smiled at him and he traced it with his thumb as he cupped the side of her face. She closed her eyes leaning into his palm briefly before sighing and taking a step back. She picked up the brushes and dipped them into the white paint he had opened.

"Okay…time for the surprise." He watched her get to the middle of the room and hold out her arms, the brushes dripping with paint. His eyes widened.

"You’re not gonna…" she grinned and nodded. "You’re not gonna give me a chance to get out of the way are you?" she shook her head still smiling. "Can I at least close the door so we don’t get it all over the hall?"

"As long as you don’t try and make a run for it…" He shut the door and leaned against it, screwing his eyes shut and putting his hands over his face. He felt cold droplets of paint hit him and roll down his arms and snuck a peak. She was twirling with arms outstretched paint flying everywhere and hitting the navy walls in little splatters. She stopped twirling and hopped around to each wall shaking her brush at it, but standing far enough back that the splatters stayed small. She stopped in front of him and pulled his hands down from his face.

"Surprise." He looked around the room, at the galaxy she had created with white paint and her crazy little twirly dance. With the plastic tarp spread unevenly over the floor, hiding the mattress, the books, the clothes, he could imagine what it would be like standing on the edge of a planet and just staring into space. "Do you like it?" she whispered hopefully and he stared at her his mouth opening and closing in that funny way he had when he was overwhelmed. "I’ll take that as a yes…" she slid the still wet paintbrush down his arm leaving a thick white streak. "That’s for my leg…" He smiled.

"Okay, okay fair enough…"

"Can I borrow your shower?" Can I stand naked and wet in a room in your house?

He shook his head "yes" a tad too eagerly and she smirked.

"You do realize that little performance was a one time deal right?" she said referring to her Janis impersonation, and smiled when he nodded trying not to look too disappointed. "Well…maybe if you need to have another room painted I can think something up…" She turned towards the bathroom, and he came up behind her whispering in her ear, "That would be fantastic…." He slapped her lightly on her butt and she whirled around just in time to see him fling open the door and run out of it. She looked down at her backside. A handprint, glaring white against the dark denim right over her bottom. She grinned to herself as she pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside thinking how fun it was going to be to explain that one to her mom.

*~*~*

Michael cautiously pushed open the bedroom door and stepped inside, pausing for a moment to listen to the shower. The sound changed a little bit as she moved under the spray. He wasn’t trying to be a perv. It wasn’t like he was going to fling open the bathroom door and maul her. It was probably locked anyway. He just wanted to try something. He knocked quietly, barely grazing the door with his knuckles.

"Maria?" He held his breath as the gentle "shhhhh" of the water ceased and he heard her push back the curtain.

"Yeah?"

"Gimmie your clothes."

Silence and then, "You’re kidding right?"

"No – c’mon I just wanna try something."

"Right." She said opening the door. "The fact that you’re being vague makes me feel so much better."

He sucked in his breath. She was wearing a towel, and he was having a heart attack. She squinted at him.

"Are you blushing?" She grinned. "You are! You’re blushing !"

"Are you gonna give me your clothes or not?"

"I don’t know Michael…do you think you can handle me running around in a towel?" He stared at her, swallowed, then lifted the corner of the tarp and pulled a shirt and pair of shorts out from under it. He tossed them to her and she laughed as she leaned over to gather up her own clothes from the floor.

"Honestly Michael, you’ve seen me in a bikini that covered a lot less than this…" she froze mid reach as she realized that when he had seen her they had been at the pond. She cleared her throat and picked up her shirt, hoping he didn’t think she had mentioned it on purpose. She met his eyes and he quickly looked away. He had been staring at her chest. Well at least she knew he hadn't been paying attention to what she was saying . "I’m keeping my panties." She murmured, and he frowned taking the pile of paint stained clothes from her.

"Aw c’mon that’s the best part…"

"Tough cookies."

She shut the bathroom door and he dazedly made his way to the kitchen.

He laid the clothes out on the table. Shorts. Tank top. Bra. It was practically see through.

Get a grip Michael it’s not like she’s wearing it

Nope she wasn’t wearin’ nothin. Not a thing.

Accept for the panties.

Stop thinking about her panties and just do this .

He closed his eyes and held his hand out over the material, imagining what it had looked like at eight o’ clock this morning when she had knocked on his door annoyingly cheerful and maddeningly cute. He opened one eye.

Score!

Not a mark on the tank top. He moved on to the shorts, concentrating on the seat where’d he left the handprint. He opened his eyes.

I am on a roll today…

"Wow…" He looked up at the sound of her voice and watched her as she walked up to the counter wearing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. He was never doing laundry again.

She touched the jeans and then looked up at him, a goofy grin plastered on her face.

"You’re getting so good at this stuff…"

He shrugged like it was no big deal and tried not to look too pleased. She noticed her bra lying on the counter and quickly snatched it up.

"Now who’s blushing?" he smirked as she turned her back to put it on under his shirt. "You do realize that that’s turning me on even more right?"

"My mission in life…" She turned back around and smoothed her damp hair back from her face, attempting to look as unruffled as possible, and smiled again as she stared from the spotless clothes to him and back again, shaking her head in amazement.

"You wanna hug me don’t you?" She grinned.

"Can I?" he sighed and rolled his eyes, making it very clear that he thought she was the biggest dork in the universe, then held out his arms. She snuggled against him, murmuring a thank you into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. And then it wasn’t a hug anymore. It was just them holding onto each other, unwilling to let go too soon.

"Maria…?"

"Mmmm?"

"Why did you freak out when I…uh kissed you before…?" she was quiet for a moment but didn’t pull back. He didn’t think he could let her if she tried anyway.

"Mostly because I thought we were going to try to be friends instead of…of whatever the hell we were before…I mean our…relationship or lack thereof…was pretty hit and run…and…and I don’t want that. I…just don’t want to go back to that place where the only thing we had were afternoons in the eraser room sucking face…"

"What do you want, Maria?"

I want to go back to that night where everything made sense, where everything was perfect, where if we were afraid, we were afraid together. Where I was able to be honest with you about how I really felt. Where you were able to be honest with me.

She was wondering if she should take the risk and bring it up. It would be breaking a silent rule, but then they’ve always done that, they’ve broken everyone else’s, they’ve broken each other’s, what was one more? If they were ever going to move forward it had to be out in the open. It had to at least be acknowledged.

"That night…before I screwed it up-"

"You didn’t-"

"Before I screwed it up." She said firmly, still hiding her face in his chest. "That night was the most amazing night of my life. It meant more to me than anything that has ever happened to me…because I saw you there…I saw who you really were…I understood you…and I thought you understood me…and…" I loved you. I love you. "I miss being with you like that…without the awkwardness…without the uncertainty because we both knew…we both finally knew how we felt…I just…I just wish we could find that again. I guess that’s what I want. I want That Night back…I…I want you back…" She lifted her head to look into is eyes. "What do you want Michael?"

He was quiet for a moment, then said slowly, "Can I tell you what I don’t want?"

"You can tell me anything as long as it’s true."

"I don’t want to be friends." She blinked at him and took a deep shaky breath before whispering "Okay…" and letting go of him. But he held on.

"I can’t be friends with you, Maria…I can’t be just friends not after…everything…you mean more to me than that. You are a friend…but I…feel…uh more for you than just friendship…"

"What do you feel?"

"I can’t…I can’t tell you yet…I can’t…"

"Okay…it’s okay…I understand…"

He paused, then said quietly, "You know though right?" She bit her lip and looked up at him, a tenderness in her eyes that stole his breath and made his knees weak.

"I think so…"

"Okay."

"Okay."

"So…how bout…ummm being more than friends…y’know just to see if it’ll work…"

"What, like…like be a couple…?" He shrugged, looking at the floor which was hard because she was so close.

"Yeah…so is that…do you want to…y’know do the whole boyfriend girlfriend thing…?"

"Yeah…" she whispered. He could feel her smile. "We could do that…"

"And…maybe we could go swimming again…sometime?"

"I’d like that…"

He looked down at her and brushed her hair away from her eyes.

"If I try and kiss you again are you gonna run?"

"Are you kidding?" she curled her fingers under the collar of his shirt pulling him down to her and whispered against his lips, "I’m not going anywhere…"before claiming them with her own. When she pulled back for breath, he turned his attentions to her neck and shoulders before running little kisses along her breastbone to the hollow of her throat, and she took in the mustard yellow color of his kitchen, wondering briefly why all the walls in his apartment reminded her of condiments before she couldn’t think at all except how good his lips felt right there and his hands…

Still they had a thing for counters and if she was going to continue having fun in this room the mustard would have to go.

"Michael…" she gasped between kisses. "The kitchen’s next…" he pulled back slightly to look at her, his face flushed with heat and the touch of her skin.

"Can you do Aretha?"

She giggled a "yes" and lost her breath again.

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