Disclaimer: Blah blah blah not mine, blah blah blah WB, Pocket Books, God who is Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, blah blah wanting Jason Behr and Brendan Fehr...

Summary: Just because you're Czechoslovakian doesn't mean that Christmas miracles can't happen.

Rating: PG--no smut, just one closet scene :)

Feedback: Please!

Spoilers: Takes place at Christmastime, so right after "The Balance"

Notes: There are some allusions to my and Emily's series, "Roswell Elementary" which is our speculation of our favorite Roswellians in fifth grade (and explains our radish fetish (g)). Go read it!! And the song, "Belleau Woods" is by Garth Brooks, from his CD, "Sevens"

Dedication: For my radish sisters, and for Lynn from Rae's list, who inspired this all. Merry . Luv ya, babes!

"You invited the Valentis *here* for Christmas Eve? Here? At our house? You do realize that Liz and Kyle broke up, right?" Was the room getting hot? She started to fan herself. "Mom, that is just so not a cool idea."

Her mother gave her the 'I'm the parent, not you' look. "Maria, I just thought, that since they had no one to share it with, and we'd see the Parkers at the Crashdown with Nana and Grandpa Christmas Day...and Jim and Kyle have been alone since..."

Jim? "No. Nada. Uh uh. Iie. www.no.com. Absolutely not, Mom." This was not happening. Her mother was not dating public enemy number one. Kyle Valenti was not coming over for Christmas. Her life could not get any worse.

Her mother sighed. "Invite Alex and Liz over then. Have some friends come over, if it will make you feel better. But pardon me if I want to have a life once in a while too."

Maybe the world would end before December 24th. If this wasn't a sign of Armageddon already. Hey, comet, now would be a good time to crash into Earth...

"Hey."

She slammed her locker shut, wincing in pain as she caught her fingers in the door.

"Nice to see you too. How was your weekend?" Michael continued in a pleasant tone.

"I hate you." She glared at him. "I just wanted you to know that...just so that you wouldn't forget."

He gave her a half-grin. "Believe me, I know." His eyes laughed at her. "Radish-breath."

"Tabasco-lover."

And suddenly, everything was right in her world again. She never knew how she felt about Michael Guerin, but at least it was a constant emotion. The depth would never change--just her opinion of it.

"So what's wrong with the universe? It's almost Christmas, and it's still sunnier than Southern California." He leaned in closer, his voice soft. "Usually, you only get this mad at me."

Things were still tense between them, after their breakup. And since that night they brought him back to life on the Reservation, things had gotten odder still. They didn't outright hate each other, but they weren't macking in the closet every chance either. It was more like it had been in the beginning--when he'd pull her hair and they'd hit each other in Mr. Raddish's class at Roswell Elementary. But now, he was almost like...a friend. He'd promised that he wouldn't run away anymore, and he didn't. But he didn't exactly look their problem in the face either.

But there were times when she just wanted to grab him and suck his brains out through his mouth, like now, when he was so close that she could bridge the gap between them with one bruising kiss. But she didn't. She did have some control.

"Mom invited Valenti and Kyle over for Christmas because she's kind of dating the Sheriff and she'd invite Darth Vader if she felt sorry for him, even though Mom knows that Christmas Eve is always my time with her..."

He was quiet for a while. "The sheriff, huh?" He looked right into her eyes, leaning up against the locker next to hers. His dark eyes were worried. "Be careful, okay?"

Why did he have to blow hot and cold? Life would be so much simpler if he could pick a way to feel about her, and stick with it. If their "I hate you"s really meant just that, and not 'well, I might love you, but I'm not sure, since there's the whole it could get us killed thing...' And then it hit her.

"Why don't you come? Mom said I could invite friends, and Liz'll be there, and Alex, and maybe bring Isabel and Max, even though that would make Kyle mad, but please don't leave me alone. Even though I know the Sheriff will be there, and it's such a bad idea because of what he thinks he knows, but..." She ran out of breathe, and gave him a pleading look.

And to her surprise, he smiled at her. One of his rare real smiles. "What time should I be there?"

She squealed, overcome by emotion, and hugged him quickly. Then, she realized what she had done and felt her cheeks flushing redder than red. "Just try not to use up all the Tabasco sauce, okay?"

He gave her his usual half-smirk, half-grin. "I'll bring my own."

"Have you been getting enough oxygen lately? One kiss, and then you both go psycho." Isabel paced around the room like a cat in a cage. "You're both mad. Hello, remember the sheriff? The one that Maria's *mom* is dating? The one that knows something's up, and that we're all involved?" Her face fell. "I just almost lost one of you. Why do you want to risk everything again?"

Usually, Max was the one who got this paranoid. But since he'd finally kissed Liz, and then they'd broken it off again, something had changed about him. As if some of the tension had gone away.

But it was actually Max who came to his defense. "Iz, I think it's a good idea." Of course it was a good idea. He could have good ideas from time to time. He didn't always have to be the impulsive one of the group. "It'll make things look more normal. We're hanging out with our friends. We're not afraid of him. There's nothing to hide."

Isabel gave her brother a dark look. "You just want to spend time mooning at Liz. Why can't you guys just go find a closet somewhere, like Michael and Maria?" She threw a pillow at him and stalked out of the room, slamming the door.

"Princess Isabel has spoken." He gave Max a half-grin. He was used to Izzy's moods. As much as Max tried to play Fearless Leader, Iz thought she needed to be their mother. And sometimes she forgot that she needed a mother as much as they did. She'd been better lately, since she actually started making friends with Maria and Liz a little. But ever since they told Alex, she'd had her weirder moments. Almost as if...

"She's right, though. It is a bad idea." Max began to pace, tracing the same path his sister had. "What if something does go wrong? What if the sheriff--?"

But enough was enough. "Max, it's Christmas. He won't arrest us on intergalactic espionage charges on Christmas. Let's do it to make Maria happy. She's done a lot for us." He blushed as soon as he said that. Max got that little knowing smile on his face. "Don't say it, Maxwell. Don't even say it." And all his friend did was grin.

"So you'll all be there then?" They sat at their usual table at lunch--well, the Czechoslovakian usual table. She and Alex and Liz just decided to start eating there too, after the rave. It seemed natural. The six most wanted at West Roswell hiding out together. They were connected now, somehow. Like they were the Mod Squad or something. But would that make her aliens the Pod Squad then? She started choking on her sandwich.

"Maria, are you okay?" Liz gave her a concerned look, thumping her back. Maria waved her best friend off, finally able to breathe again. Pod Squad. She'd have to share that with them someday.

"Well?" She gave them expected looks. Isabel was still ignoring her, but that was normal. Usually, Iz didn't give thought to anyone but herself. It was almost like she didn't trust herself to. If she did, it would mean that she had to care, and if she cared, she could only get hurt worse. At least she and Isabel had finally found common ground on something--neither wanted to lose the fragile life they had.

"Four, right? Mom wants to send a jello-mold with us." Max smiled that small, understated smile of his. "She promised that it wouldn't be the carrots and peas in green jello though. Just the cherry one with the canned fruit salad."

"The only way to eat it is with Tabasco." Michael took his usual bottle out of his leather jacket pocket and dumped half of it over his hostess cupcake. She wondered if he belonged to the Tabasco a month club or something. He must buy in bulk.

"Yeah, but you'd eat anything with Tabasco. You're sick." She made a face at him. The grape juice with hot sauce that he'd swigged all yesterday was enough to make her gag. She had to admit that she liked the way he tasted when he kissed though. There was something that almost made her want to try some of his weird alien combinations. She wondered if Liz felt the same way.

He stuck his tongue out at her, showing her his mouth full of cupcake and Tabasco. Alex laughed, because he was still a guy, after all the years of she and Liz trying to introduce some estrogen into his hormones.

"So are you going to come or not? You have to save me from my mom and 'Jim'." She would start whining soon. Whining usually worked, if babbling didn't. At least, with Michael it did, because he got tired of listening to her.

"Four then?" Max exchanged a meaningful look with Liz. Maria made a mental note to herself to have plenty of mistletoe on hand. Someone had to get those two back together. Czechoslovakian or not. If things fell apart, they might as well have some fun until then.

Then Max turned to Alex and Michael. "Pick you guys up at 3:45?"

"You can have your little party without me. There's no way I could sit in the same room with Him and act normal." Isabel's face was pale. "This is a really stupid idea. I just want you to know that before I have to come and save all of your asses from the fire. Remember the rules, boys." And she got up, threw her trash away, and left.

Alex got up to go after her, but Max shook his head. Maria squeezed his hand. She'd warned him that the Czechoslovakians drew you in and swallowed you whole. They were all a part of it now, but at least they were together in it.

"The rules don't apply anymore though." Max sighed, his usual 'bearing the burdens of the universe' look on his face. She saw him sneak a peak at Liz and smile slightly. Like he'd want those rules to apply.

Like any of them would. She wouldn't go back to the way things were, if she had the choice.

Christmas Eve. Michael ruffled through his closet. At the back, he found an old stuffed bear, its soft golden-brown fur still shining like new, wrapped in a plastic bag. For a moment, he was tempted. But it was too recent for that. Maybe later, there would be a better moment to give her the bear from the Crash Festival in 5th grade--the Festival where he and Max and Iz had finally figured out how different they were.

He shook off the memories, and moved to open the locked box he kept under his bed. He shuffled through the papers, trying to find the one he wanted. Some were creased and yellowed with age, the pencil lines fading. He'd decided that he would give everyone a drawing for Christmas. He never had enough money for good things for Izzy and Max, so he'd gotten them little things he found for as long as he could remember. Isabel still wore the tiny silver heart earrings he'd melted for her when they were first discovering their powers. The hearts were lopsided, and one looked greenish, but she still wore them with pride.

Looking through the papers, he found one he hadn't seen in five years. It was one of his first drawings of her. Her young face laughed at him now, just as it had then. Why did she have to affect him so much? Those soft lips, the floppy little curls that he loved to pull. The lonely little girl at the heart of the vibrating woman. Her vibes just seemed to mesh with his for some reason. Stupid cheesehead.

He laid back on his cramped bed, looking through the pictures he'd drawn through the years. Most of them were of her. There were a lot of Isabel and Max, and lately, of Liz and Alex too. But somehow, since that year in fifth grade, since that brush of her lips against his, he'd been drawn to the feisty little blond with her Energizer bunny tongue. And what a talented tongue she had...

Dammit, Max, get over here soon, before I start thinking about everything, and before I go back on my decision... And then, the familiar horn broke the silence of his thoughts. Broke the spell of Maria DeLuca. He gathered up the five drawings quickly, carefully putting them into his worn out Yoda folder, and slid out through his open window. No use in waking up Hank, who was sprawled in a drunken stupor in front of the tv.

When he got into the backseat of the Jeep, he was surprised to see Isabel and Alex both cramped back there already. "You sure, Izzy?" He knew how many nightmares she'd had when she was little about the sheriff.

She rolled her eyes at him, giving him one of her Princess Isabel looks. Then her face softened. "Merry Christmas, spaceboy."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Merry Christmas to you too, sis." He caught Max looking at the two of them in the rearview mirror, and gave his best friend a smile. Then, Max's eyes moved to Liz again, and his whole look softened. Michael wondered if he looked that sappy when he saw Maria. He hoped not.

Merry Christmas to you too, bro. And hopefully, next year will be better on us all.

Maria paced by the front door. For a minute, she wondered if Michael would come in through the window. She knew he did that sometimes at Max's place. He hadn't done that here yet. Not that she would've minded if he did...

Bad girl. No thinking about closets today. It's Christmas Eve.

She smoothed down her curls, adjusting the stupid reindeer antler headband on her head. At least her crimson velvet dress looked good. She and Liz had gone shopping two days before. The little dress made her skin glow with this golden sheen. And she liked the subtle amount of cleavage it showed. It made up for the dorky reindeer antlers on her head. Now, to strategically position herself under the mistletoe by the door...

*dingdong*

"I'll get it!" she shrieked, running so fast that she tripped over the carpet in the hallway and grabbed the door, throwing it open, and making her antlers fall into her eyes. She peered up at the sheriff and his son, blushing as red as her dress.

Kyle had a bored look on his face. The sheriff, oddly enough, looked like he was trying to hide a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Maria," he said gravely, tipping his hat to her as he came in the door. Kyle muttered something in her direction, not looking her in the eye.

She saw the sheriff look up, spotting the mistletoe. He raised his eyebrows at her, and then reached out, and with a gentle hand, straightened her antlers. He dropped a gentle, almost fatherly kiss on her cheek, like he had when she was in first grade and she'd fallen off of her bike in front of the police station. She blushed. She would not start liking this man. She would not forget that he wanted to prod, poke, and test the people that meant most to her on earth. But it was Christmas. And on Christmas, everything is happy for a little while.

So she smiled at him, as she had that day nine years ago. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Valenti." It was a time for forgiveness after all.

"Jim!" And her mother walked down the stairs, wearing a little red dress a lot like hers. Her mother looked prettier than usual. Her eyes smiled as much as her mouth did. God forbid that her mother was falling for the sheriff...oh lord, her life really was getting worse.

And to her surprise, the sheriff wore the same look on his face. "Amy. You look beautiful today." And he kissed her cheek, as he'd kissed Maria's.

And Kyle just stood there, looking sullen as usual. Her mom moved to him, giving him a hug too. "Merry Christmas, Kyle. You look so handsome now."

"Thank you, Mrs. DeLuca," he muttered, not looking at her. The sheriff nudged him. "Merry Christmas and thanks for having us over for dinner."

Her mom exchanged a smile with the sheriff. "Please, both of you come in. We're just waiting for some of Maria's friends." She looked to her daughter. "How many are coming, hon?"

"Four, mom." Like Isabel would come. She just hoped that no one tried anything. Or that nothing happened. But it was Christmas. Miracles happened on Christmas, right?

She could see the Sheriff counting her friends in his head. Two Evanses, a Guerin and a Parker. She wanted to smack that look off of his face. She wanted to pound him and cry at him until he left her Czechoslovakians alone. But it was Christmas. Maybe he would remember that.

And somehow, he seemed to get the message. He gave her a slight smile. Today. Just for today. They'd call a truce.

*ding dong* "I'll get it!" This time, the rug slipped out from under her feet. As the door opened, she fell right into Michael's arms. Under the mistletoe.

The door flung open, and suddenly Maria was in his arms. Dorky little reindeer antlers drooped over one eye, and her curls looked messy. He wouldn't cave. He wouldn't cave. He could see the golden swell of her breasts rising out of the deep velvet of her dress. God, she was beautiful. And there was mistletoe hanging right over their heads. The gods were cruel. The gods were very cruel.

And then Maria was plucked out of his arms, swung around by Alex, dipped, and kissed lightly on the forehead. "Merry Christmas, Miss DeLuca." Michael tried not to glare as Maria giggled in that little way she had, hugging Alex.

And then she was passed on to Max, who grinned slightly at Michael before giving her a quick hug. Liz squealed, and the two did that weird girl jumping thing, as if they hadn't seen each other yesterday at work. They hugged, talking at modem speed. Then Maria saw Izzy standing behind everybody and pounced on her. Iz looked surprised at first, then hugged Maria back. Way to go, cheesehead. He couldn't help grinning a little as Maria put her arms around Isabel and Liz, chattering faster than before.

And she looked back over her shoulder, giving him that bright Maria smile, the one that made his insides melt. Control, man. Control. But it was Christmas. He could afford one day of letting himself love her. Just one day. He wasn't broken yet.

"Alex! How nice to see you!" Her mom hugged and kissed Alex like a long lost son. Which he was, in a way. Her mom didn't know half of what had happened, but she had noticed the strain between Liz, Alex, and her. "And Liz!" Another round of hugs and kisses, as if her mom hadn't seen Liz two days before at the Crashdown. "Come in, come in. You all know Kyle, and Jim." She watched her mother beam like a proud hostess. At least her mom was happy, even if it was with Valenti.

Kyle nodded. "Whitman, Guerin." His eyes narrowed. "Evans." He put on a fake smile. "Nice to see you again too, Liz."

"Merry Christmas, Kyle." Liz's face wore an equally forced pleasant expression. From the way Max hovered around Liz, one hand on the small of her back, Maria could tell that he wasn't too thrilled about the arrangement either.

The tension in the room was so thick that she could have split it with an ax. Kyle didn't look at Max, and Max only looked at Liz, and Isabel looked like she were ready to puke. Somehow her mom didn't notice it, being so deliriously happy. Maybe that new accupressure treatment was actually working. Or the new psychic wasn't too much of a crackpot.

"Mom, this is Max and Isabel Evans. Max, Iz, my mom, Amy DeLuca."

Her mother smiled, gave both Evanses hugs. "Merry Christmas to you both. You're Diane and Philip's twins then, right?" She smiled at Isabel. "You look just like your mother."

To Maria's surprise, Isabel actually blushed.

Michael coughed slightly. "Oh yeah. Mom, this is Michael. Michael, Mom." Her mother took Michael's hand, studying him for a moment. Michael put on his best charming smile.

"Michael." Her mom smiled. "Not Michael...Guerin? The one that Maria had that crush on in--"

"So, Mom, why don't we eat now, huh?" She took her mother by the arm, trying not to blush. Why did she ever tell her mother that? She snuck a peek at Michael, who had the oddest look on his face. And from the way Isabel was coughing, she was probably trying not to laugh. Even Liz, her best friend in the whole world, was smiling.

Her mother gave her an odd look, as if she'd finally figured out the reason why they weren't as close anymore. Which was partially true. She couldn't exactly tell her mom that she was involved with E.T. and his two best friends...

The Sheriff offered her mom his arm, and led her into the dining room. From the look on Kyle's face, he considered doing the same to Liz, but Max had already beat him to it. Even Isabel consented to walking on Alex's arm, wearing the oddest expression on her face--as if the way he kissed her hand so gallantly to her reminded her of something. For a moment, her face was almost...tender. But tis the season for strangeness and warm feelings.

And when she turned to Michael. He hadn't kissed her under the mistletoe, despite the time she'd spent arranging it all over the house. He hadn't even hugged her or given her a gift. But that rare vulnerable look came over his face, and he reached out, squeezing her hand once, before hitting her in the shoulder and walking into the dining room ahead of her. Stupid Martianface Guerin.

In the dining room, her mom quickly added another place setting to the eight that were already there. Everyone took a dish from the kitchen to set on the table. Michael gave her a half-smile as they passed each other from the dining room to the kitchen. Things were going all right so far. Maybe they would live through the day.

Her mother took the foot of the table, with the Sheriff at the head. Max sat with Liz, Isabel and Michael on one side, leaving Maria to sit between Alex and Kyle. But at least Michael sat across from her. Throughout the meal, she felt the pressure of one of his feet rubbing up against hers. She'd look up at him every now and then, and see that blank, innocent look on his face, just like when he was trying to convince her that "The View" was his favorite television show. He appeared to be paying complete attention to the talk going on around him, but every now and then, he'd catch her eye and give her that small half-grin.

"So, Max, how is your parents' firm doing?" Cut and chew, cut and chew. Everything could be normal. No talk of Marathon, or Atherton, or Topolsky. Just normal small talk, as if they'd been doing this their whole lives--which they had, actually.

"Just fine, Sheriff. The Clovis office is doing better than Mom and Dad thought. They're thinking of expanding a bit more in Roswell. They have five lawyers working for them now." She had to admire Max. He could remain the perfect picture of calm. His face was as carefully polite as the Sheriffs. You wouldn't know that he was sitting across from a man that would give his life to know his secret.

But Maria noticed that from time to time, Liz would eat with her left hand, and Max would eat with his right, their other two hands disappearing beneath the table. So much for taking time away from each other. But it was Christmas, and they were in love. She saw that Kyle noticed too, every time the hands disappeared. It was also about the same time Michael decided to start up a kicking war. But she managed to smile and laugh, just like normal. It was Christmas. Everything would be okay.

"And what do your parents do, Michael?" Her mother's voice was interested, again playing the role of good hostess and being interested in her daughter's friends.

"My foster-father mostly sits on his ass in front of the tv drunk, Mrs. DeLuca, but when he's sober he works in construction." Michael smiled that charming smile of his. To her mother's credit, she only smiled and nodded. Being in Roswell for so long taught that degree of nonchalance.

"How's basketball going, Kyle? Will the team win the pennant this season?" Her mother turned to the surly jerk on her left. Kyle left off from his glaring at Liz and Max to smile another pleasantly fake smile.

"The team looks better than ever, Mrs. DeLuca. I think we actually have a chance at the championships." Kyle actually looked animated for the first time all night. His favorite subject, after the conspiracy that Max Evans had against him, was himself.

She wondered what Kyle would've been like if he'd grown up in a normal family, with a father who wasn't obsessed with UFOs, and a mother who'd stayed. Maybe he would've been able to hold on to Liz, and actually been able to give her the love she deserved. But that could never be. Max Evans took care of that. If any love was predestined, it was Liz and Max's. And then she wondered if that was the key to Kyle's problem with the world: Max Evans had everything--a family, a good life, and Kyle's ex girlfriend.

Dinner progressed. Everyone was civil--a miracle in itself. Isabel didn't faint, Kyle didn't throw any punches, and Sheriff Valenti was so pleasant that it was almost hard to remember that he was the one who was out to discover the truth, no matter what the cost. And Michael kept playing with her feet under the table, giving her that little half-smirk, half-grin that she wanted to kiss away so much.

"It's been a while since we've seen you around, Alex? Where has life taken you in the past few weeks?" Subtlety wasn't exactly her mom's forte. She knew that her mom felt betrayed that Maria hadn't come to her with her problems, but somehow, she thought that the truth about the '47 crash and its survivors might be a bit too much for her mom. That, and the fact that her daughter might be falling in love with one of the Czechoslovakians...Love? Not love. Not like. Lust. Plain and simple lust. Wanting his sweet and spicy lips on hers, pressing his lean body so close that their body heat mingled... But then she remembered that gentle kiss in the dreamplane, bringing him back to her, and how his eyes never left hers after that. It couldn't be love though. She wasn't Pollyanna. And happily ever after didn't translate into Czechoslovakian.

Back to dinner. Back to her mom flirting with Jim Valenti, and Kyle still glaring at Max, and Isabel trying not to look interested in Alex's ideas for forming a garage band. Back to where Michael was giving her an odd look, as if he could read her thoughts. But Czechoslovakians couldn't read thoughts, could they? They did that weird dreamwalking thing...

Dinner ended. Michael breathed a sigh of relief. No one was dead yet. He was proud of himself. He'd eaten everything on his plate without a hint of tabasco sauce. It almost killed him, but it was for Maria's sake. And for their own safety too, but he could deal with an upset stomach if it meant Maria would be happy. If it meant that he would make it out alive. Yeah, survival was much more important than making Maria happy--unless it meant that her chicken tongue would be quiet for more than a minute. She hadn't said too much at dinner, which was a relief in itself.

Maria's mom began to clear the table, but the Sheriff, in his role of nice man, took her hand. "Let the kids do it, Amy. That's what they're here for." And the man actually smiled. A real smile. Not the fake "I know what you're up to, but I can't prove it" smile. No, Valenti was not becoming a nice man. It was just Christmas, not that he was a human being like everyone else...

They all helped out with the dishes. Izzy actually scraped all the crap into the garbage disposal, wrinkling up her nose in that disgusted way she had. Alex and Kyle washed, and Maria rinsed. Liz dried, and Max was careful to make sure that he put the dishes away, touching Liz's fingertips at every opportunity. Another miracle for the night--no one had puked yet from their sappiness. He hoped it wouldn't get this bad at all the holidays...

But that was assuming they'd be here for more holidays. Dammit. He had to stop thinking like this. Like they'd be in Roswell forever. Like he'd actually spend more holidays helping Maria rinse the dishes off, and flicking soapy water down her neck, trying not to imagine what it would be like to dry the bubbles of her golden skin...

Somehow, they all seemed more mellow now. Kyle still hovered in his sulky little world, but Iz was even mildly flirting with Alex, flapping him with the dishtowel every now and then. Alex, of course, grinned like an idiot, as if his brain was in overload. So Izzy had hooked another one. Funny, how the rules they'd made so many years ago didn't seem to apply anymore. Were they all falling for humans? But he wasn't falling for Maria. It was all about sex, and human desires that his alien body couldn't handle--but his heart wasn't buying that anymore. Not after the way Maria had brought him back from the dead. Not after that kiss. And not after the promise he'd made to her. But Time would tell. It was Christmas after all.

Dishes were put away. Mrs. DeLuca and the Sheriff sat in the living room, listening to Christmas carols on the CD player. Kyle got bored and decided to walk home. No one really noticed when he left--not even his father. Michael wondered how that reflected on the son. Not that he could talk, since he doubted Hank noticed that he was gone. Alex got his guitar out of the Jeep and began to play softly with the music, showing off for Isabel. And Max and Liz had disappeared for a while.

Maria sat on the floor, by the Christmas tree, carefully examining each present. She had that gleeful look on her face, like when she was thinking of an especially good insult for him. He couldn't help grinning. She was cute. She'd always been cute, with those soft lips and pixie smile. And those curls. He wanted to run his hands through those curls. He really loved the way she looked, especially when she was quiet. Her thoughtful look was one of her most beautiful, just like when she laughed, and when she started babbling when she was nervous...

It was happening. Things were getting deeper. Things he swore he'd never feel.

Maria met his eyes, and she smiled a gentle smile. Just like the one after they'd kissed, that first time. He could feel the electricity between them even across the room. He wanted to make a face at her, or call her a name, or throw something at her. But it was Christmas. And Christmas was making him as sappy as anyone else. So he smiled back. And sealed his fate.

She mouthed something at him. Pancake face.

He grinned. Chickenbutt.

Then the closet door opened, and Max and Liz stepped out, trying to look nonchalant. It didn't work. Liz's hair was falling out of its clip, and Max had lipstick on his nose. Michael caught Maria's eye and raised his eyebrows at her. She gave him one of her Maria grins, her eyes dancing. He almost wished he'd thought of the closet. He shot a quick look at Maria's mom, but she seemed not to notice. Love was in the air. But hell, it was Christmas after all. And even Max and Liz deserved a break.

Presents were exchanged. Michael knew that Max had gotten Liz a silver bracelet that looked like it was made up of little deformed hearts--or radishes, if you looked right. Alex made Isabel a tape of some of his songs. She got him a new guitar pick. Not terribly romantic, but Izzy was trying, for the first time in her life. Michael wasn't sure what Liz's present to Max was--but maybe it had involved their little excursion into the hall closet for a while.

He'd chosen his gifts carefully, and wouldn't let anyone open them until they got home. None of them had noticed all the sketching he'd been doing the past week. He'd picked a drawing of Isabel for Alex, when she was in one of her thoughtful moods. Isabel got a drawing of her and Max together with their parents, laughing. Somehow, he'd managed to just capture the love on the whole family's faces. He hated that picture. It hurt him every time he looked at it.

Max and Liz got near duplicate pictures, of Max and Liz sharing one of their soulful looks. Both were done after the day at the Crashdown. But Michael had compared them to drawings he'd done years before, and the looks hadn't changed.

Then it was time to leave. Mr. Valenti carefully kissed Mrs. DeLuca on the cheek under the mistletoe. Alex got up the nerve to peck Isabel, blushing furiously. The funny thing was that Isabel blushed too. Max and Liz shared a long kiss, not caring that everyone was watching. Michael hoped they'd remember that they were still broken up tomorrow.

And then Maria was at his side, still wearing the dorky reindeer antlers. She looked up at him, and then at the mistletoe. "Well, how about it, spaceboy?" Her voice was soft.

He gave her his usual rakish grin. God, he was hot. She couldn't help reaching up to play with his spiky hair. She wondered how he got it to stay up like that. It wasn't sticky with hairspray or anything. Maybe it was a Czechoslovakian thing. Just like having soulful eyes. Soulful dark eyes that she could drown in.

She hoped he would get the hint. Even Michael Guerin wasn't that dumb. He reached down, touched her face more gently than he'd ever done before. And then he kissed her--sweet, tender, nothing like their frantic gropings in the eraser room at school. More like that last dream kiss, the one that brought both of them back to life. A kiss of promise. Almost a kiss of...love?

When Liz came to say goodbye, Maria noticed a light trail of red marks marching down her best friend's neck. "Might want to wear a turtleneck tomorrow," she said, hugging Liz tight.

They shared a secret smile and giggled. "It'll be hard tomorrow. Remembering what happened." Liz's eyes followed Max out the door. "I know it's because it's Christmas, and I know things have to go back to the way they were..."

"He'll still love you tomorrow, Liz. That's not gonna change. He just needs to learn how to deal with it. It may take him awhile." It may take them all a while. But that was one of the nice things about Christmas--the togetherness that reminded you why you loved someone.

Liz smiled at her. "See you tomorrow. Remember to bring the dessert, or mom will flip." One last hug. "I love you."

"Love you too, Lizzie." Her best friend. Her best friends. Her family.

When the Jeep and the Sheriff's squad car pulled away, Maria stood on the front porch with her mom, arms about each other's waists. "That wasn't too bad, was it honey?"

Maria kissed her mom's cheek. "No, it wasn't half bad at all." She looked down at the envelope in her hand, and smiled at the Jeep as it disappeared down the road.

Michael sat on hs bed, unwrapping the small package Maria had shoved into his hand at the last second. Inside an envelope rested a letter, a small silver medal, and an unsharpened pencil.

"Michael,

Merry Christmas, carrion-breath. I know that Czechoslovakians aren't Catholic or if you even have religion or whatever, but I saw this medal at a swapmeet and thought of you, because of those silver rings you always wear. The guy is St. Michael, and he's supposed to be the patron saint of all flyers. I know you don't fly, and you certainly aren't an angel, but you did fly here from wherever in the crash (kinda), so I figured that it was close enough. I figured that you might need a little something extra to watch over you. And maybe an angel with the same name would help.

And it was signed in her neat handwriting. Maria.

He took the pencil in his hand, wondering for a moment. He turned it over, watching how the holographic silver color played in the light. The pencil had never been used, but seemed old. The drugstore on the corner hadn't made these pencils in four years.

He picked up his box, unlocked it. Rummaged through until he found the plastic sandwich bag. He gently took out the two halves of pencil that matched the whole one in his hand. The pencil he broke in fifth grade, and the pencil he bought to replace it. She'd kept it for all those years.

He laid back on his bed, clutching both pencils tight in his hands. This was it. This was the point of no return. But did he want to go back? Did he want to change anything?

He gently laid both pencils in his box, and smiled slightly at the memory of long blond curls and angry hazel eyes, at his first hug from a human being. And for the first time, he was glad that Max had healed Liz that day.

She carefully opened the envelope. Inside, there was only a faded piece of paper, standard sized from a sketchpad. The edges were yellow, but the creases were clean, as if someone had kept it in a box for a very long time. She opened it carefully, and found a vision of her younger self staring back at her. The skill wasn't as refined as the more recent drawings she'd seen, but there was a depth of emotion that startled her. She could almost hear her younger self laughing, ready to toss her curls back, round face chattering a mile a minute. And on the back, in an awkward childish hand, the ink faded with time, someone had printed a poem from long ago.

"I hate you, I hate you
Your stupid curls
Tongue flapping like a chicken
Always bugging me
Kicks and teasing
Never leaving me alone
I hate you, I hate you,
You're always there
Like a smelly sock
But if I don't hate you,
I might like you
And then, what if
You don't like me?
You cheesebreath."

She put the picture on her desk, smiling a little smile. I hate you too, Michael Guerin. Always have, always will.

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