-Rating- G. Completely.
-Category- Tess/Maria friendship. Maria POV.
-Summary- Um, I don't know. It's a foofy little Tess/Maria friendship fic.
-Spoilers- No spoilers. Seriously, the only episode it mentions is the Pilot.
-Disclaimer- I don't own Roswell. I swear. If I did, Max and Liz would be together.
-Author's Notes- This is sort of based on a Tess/Maria manipulation that I made. Go to http://promography.com/rain, and find the "art" section under "girl" if you want to see it. All your feedback are belong to me. For great justice.

*~*

I was closing up the Crashdown instead of Liz that night. It was only yesterday, but it feels like it's been forever. It feels like it's happening right now.

She knocked on the door, timidly. That's what made me look at her differently. Max will stand there until the door opens for him. Michael will look at me and will me to open it. Isabel doesn't knock so much as she raps her knuckles on the doorframe. Crisp. Businesslike. Liz and Alex don't need to knock, because they have the key.

But she knocks gently, hesitantly, as if she's not sure it's what she's supposed to do. When our eyes met she looked down, shy, ashamed. I smiled and walked over to unlock the door.

"Is it... too late?" she asked, in her lilting, musical voice.

"No," I said, motherly, "No, we're always open a few extra hours for hungry Czechoslovakians."

She almost smiled. "Can I come in?"

I opened the door farther and stepped aside. Adopting a waitress tone, I asked, "Would you like a table or a booth, miss?"

She seemed delighted to have a chance to be someone other than herself. "A booth," she staged a glance at my nametag, "Maria, a booth would be wonderful."

I grinned and walked her over to the booth forever known as That Booth, the one in which Max was sitting when Liz got shot. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

She laughed delightedly and took a moment to look at the menu. "I'd like an Alien Blast."

Wiggling my eyebrows, I jotted her order down on my notepad. "With Tabasco, I'll assume?"

"But of course."

I walked quickly back into the kitchen, and grabbed an Alien Blast out of the fridge. I was saving that one for myself, but it looked like Tess needed it more than I did.

Walking back out, I snatched my headband up off the counter and put it on over my braids. Grinning at her, I asked, mock-offended by her giggles, "If I'm going to serve you an Alien Blast, I might as well look the part."

I set the glass down on the table, and slid in the booth across from her. "So, Tess, what brings an alien like you to a place like this?"

She paused, taking a sip of the Alien Blast. "Do you really want to know?"

I nodded quickly, causing the ridiculous antennae attached to my head to bob up and down. She shot a sideways glance at the door, as if calculating whether or not to make a move. Then she turned back to me. "You."

"What?"

"You're what brings me here. As much as I hate to admit it, I like you. You always know what to say. You always make me smile."

I blushed beet-red. "Really?" She nodded.

Lapsing into silence, I thought about what she had said. I wondered if I should say anything, but nothing seemed right. Thanks? Right back at you? Nothing fit.

We both looked back up at the same instant, and my breath caught in my throat. I saw myself in her eyes. I saw me. Not the silly girl in Liz's eyes, or the dependable friend in Max's, or the ever-changing wild thing in Michael's. Just me. No fuss. No frills. No denial. I couldn't describe the feeling.

I was the one to break the silence. "Um, my mom's probably getting pissed. I should go home."

She nodded. "I'll lock up."

"But you don't have the key--" I stopped myself and blushed. "Nevermind. Thanks."

I don't remember walking out the door or getting into the Jetta. I don't remember driving home. My mind only started working again when I saw my house. Looking up at the dimly lighted windows, I could see my mother gazing down at me. "That's what it was. That's what it felt like," I murmured, "She feels like home."

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