How To Irritate Your Friends

Disclaimer: Roswell, its characters and situations, are owned by the WB. No infringement intended.

Author's Note: This story is the part of an evolving future storyline. All the stories currently in this storyline are included in order on the Future Arc page.

* * * *

Holding her arms above her head, Maria Guerin squinted at herself in the mirror. They didn't look any different. Somehow she had expected them to look different. She turned sideways to see if that would change her reflection, but they still didn't look any different. Somehow she had been sure that they would have looked different.

She reached with her left hand to touch it again, and wrinkled her nose at her reflection when she felt it. It was definitely there. It wasn't muscle. It wasn't tissue. It was something else. It didn't feel hard like a pebble, but it was firm. It was definitely firm. It was something. She just didn't know what exactly.

She shrugged and let her arms drop to her sides. It was obviously something, but it was so small. It was hardly noticeable. It probably wasn't important. Maria was almost sure it wasn't important. It was so small. She wouldn't have noticed it at all except for the fact that her mom had been talking about her Aunt Edie last week, telling her that Aunt Edie had been in a similar situation, and that Aunt Edie's situation had turned out to be nothing to be worried about.

That was what this was, Maria thought as she wriggled into her little black dress and reached back to zip it up. This was nothing to be worried about.

Besides, she had already kept Michael waiting too long. He was probably getting impatient, probably even thinking about trying to get out of going out for dinner and a movie. Like she would let him weasel out of their weekly date-night, especially after all the work she'd put into making Thanksgiving go off without a hitch. Humph, thought Maria as she snapped off the light in the bedroom she had shared with Michael for what felt like her whole life; if he actually thought he was getting out of date-night, he had another think coming.

* * * *

When she got downstairs, Michael was roaming around the living room impatiently, looking like nothing so much as a caged lion with his spiky tawny hair. He looked up even before she was all the way into the room.

And he wolf-whistled. "Wow. I like that dress. I should paint that dress."

Maria arched her eyebrows. "Just the dress?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. I should paint you in the dress. So. Are you ready yet? God, it takes you a million years to get ready."

"You should be used to it by now, pally," Maria said dryly.

"You should be better at getting ready on time by now," Michael shot back. "We're gonna miss the movie because you couldn't tear yourself away from the bathroom mirror."

Maria didn't want to be reminded about the bathroom mirror. She folded her arms over her chest and glared at Michael. She wasn't in the mood for a fight, even a play one. She had something else on her mind, although she was sure it was nothing to worry about, really she was. She glared at him harder to get her mind off the other thing, which she was almost definitely sure she didn't need to worry about, and said, "Michael, you need to get over yourself in a big way. I was getting ready. I got ready as fast as I could. If we miss the movie, it isn't the end of the world."

Michael frowned, no doubt wondering why she hadn't picked up the argumentative glove he'd thrown down. It was unlike her, and he knew it. Maria realized that she would have to do a better job of being herself if she didn't want him to worry. She held her breath, waiting to see if he would comment on her unusual behavior.

He didn't. His frown faded and he looked apologetic for a fraction of a second and then a glint appeared in his eye. "If the end of the world is imminent, maybe we should forget about the movie altogether and do something about that black dress." He grinned at her, an all-out-charming, I'm-trying-get-my-way-and-I-know-you-know-it Guerin grin. "Maybe I could paint you without the dress? Think of the fun we could have getting you out of that sexy little number.... And then when you're out of it ... well, you know that I'm always up for using paint in interesting ways.... "

Laughing with relief, Maria thwapped him. "Michael, you are such a horndog. I didn't squeeze myself into this contraption of a dress to not have date-night. Date-night's happening, pally. So, I would suggest that you move your butt out the front door."

* * * *

Date-night was perfect, or as perfect as anything in Maria and Michael Guerin's lives was ever perfect. And paint was used in interesting ways later that night, which, as far as Maria was concerned, did make date-night perfect.

The next day, Maria went to work as usual. The Crashdown Café was quiet, or at least it was quiet until Liz Evans arrived. When Liz arrived, Maria made the mistake of telling her about the thing she'd discovered the day before.

The conversation deteriorated quickly, reaching rock-bottom when Liz practically shrieked, "What do you mean you don't do self-exams?!"

Maria just stared at her best friend. Liz Evans was not the kind of person who lost it. Liz was calm, practical, organized. Liz was totally not the kind of person who spoke loudly in restaurants, let alone practically shrieked in the restaurant her parents still owned. Confused by the intensity of Liz's reaction, Maria arched a speculative eyebrow and tried to make her voice sound soothing. "Liz," she said, reaching out. "Keep your voice down."

"How can you tell me to keep my voice down?" Liz demanded, jumping up from her stool and avoiding Maria's reaching-out hand and waving her hands around agitatedly, which was another thing Maria had never seen her do before. "Maria! Why don't you do self-exams? You're supposed to. All women are supposed to."

"Chill, Liz. It's not like I haven't been doing anything. I figured Michael would notice if something was weird. You know, Michael is always ... you know ... you're married ... you know what I mean. He's always ... touching ... them. I figured he would notice."

"Maria! Michael is a male. Michael is clueless. All males are clueless. How could you think that he would...?" Liz took a deep breath, and Maria could tell she was telling herself to calm down. "Maria. Men, even very sensitive, sweet, good men like Michael and Max and Alex, can only think about so many things at one time, and usually when they're ... you know ... they're pretty focused on one particular thing." She poked Maria to emphasize the point, and her voice began to rise again. "Usually just one thing, Maria." Leaning in towards Maria, Liz took another deep breath and lowered her volume again. "Looking for breast lumps isn't high on their list."

"Liz," Maria said calmly, "you're totally overreacting--"

"I am not overreacting, Maria. I can't believe you were so stupid about not doing self-exams. You put yourself at risk, Maria. You have Michael. You have a family. You have friends. You have a lot of people who love you. You don't have the right to put yourself at risk."

Maria could see that Liz was working herself up to almost losing it again. She couldn't remember that last time she had seen her best friend like this before. "Liz--"

"No, Maria--" Liz held up both hands and started to back away-- "don't even talk to me. I know I should be doing the best-friend thing, being supportive and everything, but I can't. I don't even know why, but I just feel so angry with you for endangering yourself like this. How could you do this?"

"Liz, this is so not fair," Maria said, beginning to get angry herself. "You are overreacting. If this happened to you, I wouldn't've reacted this way."

Liz bent down to pick up her tote bag from the floor. Slinging it over her shoulder, she said, "Then you're probably a better friend than I am, Maria." Liz turned to head towards the door, then stopped and turned back. For an instant, Maria saw the Liz she'd known forever in the too-serious, worried woman in front of her. "Maria. I'm really sorry, but I can't help how I feel." Shaking her head, she headed towards the door again, saying over her shoulder: "You should go see a doctor today. If it's anything, you need to see a doctor as soon as possible." Liz placed a hand on the door, was just about to push it open, when she turned back once more. "And you should tell Michael, Maria. Soon. If you think I reacted badly, just wait for his reaction. And the longer you leave it without telling him, the worse it'll be. You know that as well as I do."

* * * *

The annoying thing about Liz Evans, Maria thought, was that she tended to be right. And she was right about Michael's reaction. Maria waited until late that evening to tell him, and when she did, well, it wasn't pretty.

Michael dragged her to Max and Liz's house, even though it was past ten o'clock at night. He wanted Max to check her out, he said. He wanted Max to make sure it was really nothing.

Maria reminded Michael that Max was probably in bed already. Max opened his medical practice early every morning to accommodate working parents who needed to bring their children in to see him before regular business hours; he usually went to sleep pretty early as a result. Michael said something unprintable about Max's boring predictable life and then said he didn't care.

When they got to Max and Liz's, Max opened the door. He was rubbing his eyes wearily, but he was still dressed so at least he hadn't gone to bed yet, Maria thought. Maria felt a little better about imposing on Max if he hadn't gone to bed yet.

Michael didn't have qualms one way or the other. As soon as Max opened the door, Michael pushed past him into the house and launched right into a description of the whole situation in a clipped voice that had an undercurrent of anger. Maria rolled her eyes. She was sure it was nothing. Everyone was overreacting. It was getting to be ridiculous. Thank god, she thought, that she hadn't told Izzy or Alex. She shuddered as she imagined Isabel's favorite facial rendition of a displeased royal despot. Definitely Izzy's reaction would have been even less pretty than Liz's reaction. And Alex's reaction ... ah, Alex would have been so disappointed in her.... Maria sighed. Everyone was just handling this whole thing so badly. She couldn't understand it. Wasn't she supposed to be entitled to sympathy or something--

"Why did you come to me?" Max asked, still rubbing his eyes wearily.

Michael nearly snapped his head off. "You're the doctor, Max. Remember? You're the one who should check it out. You can make sure that it's not malignant, that it hasn't spread. You know what to look for."

"Maria is human," Max pointed out. "She could go to a regular doctor."

Michael clenched his hands into fists at his side, and Maria put a hand on his arm to calm him down. She couldn't understand why everyone was so angry. And everyone thought she was excitable....

"You can tell us the results faster than they could at some regular doctor's office," Michael ground out. "I don't want to wait."

"You could then, Michael. You could see for yourself." Max sounded so tired that Maria felt even more terrible. She felt worse after Michael's next response.

"Max. You're the doctor. Why else did you become a doctor, dammit?"

Max sighed. "I was just trying to point out the options--"

"I don't want you to point out the options. I want you to tell me nothing's wrong with Maria."

Max sighed again. "Michael, I'm a pediatrician, not an oncologist--"

"Just do it, Max."

"Fine." Max rolled his head from left to right to get out the cricks in his neck, then he smiled sympathetically at Maria. "Why don't we go into the living room at least? I'll get my bag."

When Max came back into the room with his bag, Maria tried to smile at him, but it faltered because all of a sudden she was beginning to feel nervous. What if it turned out to be something, not nothing?

Michael would kill her.

That thought made her giggle a little, and that giggle helped her relax enough to make her smile a real smile, which Max returned.

Seeing his smile, Maria thought about how much she liked being friends with Max. He was so calm, so reassuring. She just had to look into Max's eyes to feel safe and ... calm. It wasn't that she didn't feel safe with Michael, because she did. She always felt safe with Michael, but she hardly ever felt calm. There were too many sparks with Michael to feel calm. Michael tended to be excitable. She definitely liked how Michael made her feel, and sometimes Max's calm-ness drove her insane because it felt too (for lack of a better word) boring, but in situations like this one, Maria thought, Max's calm, reassuring presence was much better to have around than Michael's excitable one, even though she loved Michael more than anything--

As if to prove Maria's point about his excitability, Michael suddenly squinted fiercely at Max. "You may be my best friend and essentially my brother," he said, "but if you get any ideas while you're touching her breasts, I'll kill you."

Enough was enough, Maria thought. She thwapped Michael. Hard. "If you think I'm too weak or something to beat the crap out of you, pally, you better think again."

"It's okay, Maria," Max said. Clearly not offended, Max grinned at his best friend who had just threatened to kill him. "Liz is still up. She's in Josh's room, listening to him read a story. Why don't you go up there?"

"Remember what I said, Max," Michael said grimly. "I wasn't kidding."

"Do you want me to thwap you again, dorkbutt?" Maria demanded. She pointed at Max. "He's doing us a favor, so you can stop being a jerk about it. Just go upstairs like he suggested. Talk to Liz. Give Joshie a kiss for me. Come back in a little while." Maria smiled at Michael reassuringly, suddenly remembering why he was behaving so badly. He was worried and she loved him for it. Less fiercely, she said, "Everything'll be fine, Michael. That's what Max will tell us. Don't worry."

Michael glared at both Maria and Max then stomped out of the room, but Maria had seen the worry in his eyes before he left. Her poor worried dorkbutt, she thought affectionately.

She was almost sure that he didn't have anything to worry about, but they needed to find out for sure, so she turned back to Max. "Okay. Let's get this over with. Do you need me to take off my shirt?"

Max grimaced, and Maria could tell his cheeks reddening. "I can't tell you how weird this feels, Maria," he said. "It would probably have been better if you'd gone to your regular doctor."

"Don't worry about what Michael said, Max." Maria touched his arm gently. "He didn't mean it. He was right, though, about how if you checked it out, we would find out more about it faster."

Max still looked worried. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Max. Right now, you're my doctor, not my friend. You can be as professional and distant with me as you are with your patients in your office." Maria smiled at him encouragingly. "So. Should I take my shirt off or not?"

"Please," he said and all of a sudden, Maria thought, he didn't look tired. He looked like a doctor despite his worn blue jeans and faded gray t-shirt. Yes, Max definitely looked like a doctor, Maria thought with satisfaction; he was all compassionate interest in his patient, but also professional detachment. This would work, she decided.

And it did.

Max made a careful examination of both of Maria's breasts and used his powers to check for malignancy or metastasis. The only thing out of the ordinary he found was the lump she had found the day before. He checked it very carefully and pronounced it likely benign. "I could get rid of it for you, Maria, but I don't think that would be a good idea. Really, I'm not an oncologist. You should probably go to your regular doctor for additional testing just to make sure it's nothing to be worried about."

"I'll probably do that," Maria agreed. "Just to double-check."

Max nodded. "That's a good idea. It'll make Michael feel better."

Thinking of Michael, Maria shook her head wryly. "I'm sorry about the way he was acting before, Max."

"Forget it."

"I will," she nodded. "But thanks for doing this. I feel better."

"Then it was worth it." Max smiled at her a little sheepishly. "But this conversation is reminding me that we're friends and not just doctor-and-patient, Maria. Could you please put your shirt back on? It's kinda like seeing Izzy without her top on ... just weird."

Maria laughed at him. "Does Liz know you're such a prude?"

"I'm not a prude with Liz," Max said, laughing too. "I don't mind seeing her with her top off...."

Maria thwapped him. "I don't need to know these kinds of details, Maxie-boy."

"Hey," he complained, rubbing his shoulder where she'd thwapped him. "You hit hard."

Maria grinned at him. "And don't you forget it, Maxie-boy. Hurricane DeLuca is just below the surface at all times."

Max rolled his eyes in a credible imitation of Michael, but Maria noticed he was blushing again, which Michael hardly ever did. "Just do your shirt up, Maria," he said. "Please."

Laughing all over again at his embarrassed expression, Maria complied. While she was buttoning up her shirt, she thought about the fact that Liz had not made an appearance all night and decided to ask Max about it. "So," she said, "is she still mad at me?"

"Liz?" Max asked, sounding distracted.

Maria realized that he was distracted because he was busy writing down his findings on a piece of scrap lined paper. She smiled. Max was almost fanatical about keeping complete and accurate patient records. If she knew him at all, she knew that he would start a file for her tomorrow. She would be his only adult patient except for Liz probably....

He glanced up from his writing when she didn't answer.

So she thought back to her question and nodded. "Yeah. Liz. Is she still mad?"

"She's just worried," he said, shrugging. He started writing again. "She'll get over it."

"Why is she so mad?"

Max didn't pause in his writing this time, and he didn't look up either. "Because you were stupid."

Maria thwapped him again, making his pen jump off the page. He blinked up at her in wary confusion, so she thwapped him once more for good measure. "Some bedside manner you've got there, Max," she commented.

Putting down his pen, Max looked up at Maria. She noticed that his absurdly long-lashed eyes were very serious. "I'm not talking as your doctor, Maria. I'm talking as your friend. And you were stupid. Every adult woman needs to do monthly breast self-examinations. You should have been doing them. And you should do them from now on. I have pamphlets in the office that show you how, if you don't know how. Or you can look up how on the Internet."

Maria felt thoroughly chastised. "I'll pick up a pamphlet tomorrow."

"And you'll go see your regular doctor tomorrow to schedule a mammogram at least?"

"Yes, Doctor Evans."

Max smiled. "Good, Mrs. Guerin. I'm glad to hear you being so sensible."

"I'm always sensible."

"Really?" Max said skeptically.

Maria stuck out her tongue at him, and Max laughed. Max's laugh was a real laugh, one that Maria still found vaguely surprising since he had always been such a somber, serious person. But times had changed and now Max laughed more often, and as always his laugh was infectious and within minutes Maria was laughing too.

Maria and Max were still laughing when Michael walked into the living room. Instantly, he was suspicious. He looked from Maria to Max then back to Maria. Guessing his thoughts, Maria smiled at him to let him know that everything was fine. She saw that he understood the message in her smile, but he asked the question anyway because he was Michael and he wanted to make sure. "So, everything's fine?"

Maria got up to hug him tightly. She felt the relief shudder through his body as he squeezed her ribs to almost-cracking point. "Everything's fine, spaceboy," she said into his chest. "Everything's fine."

"Thank god," he mumbled into her hair.

"I'm going to double-check with my regular doctor tomorrow."

"Good," he said. Then he held her away so that she could experience the full effect of his famous Michael-glare. "Don't ever do this to me again, DeLuca."

Maria looked appropriately apologetic. "I won't."

"Good," he said again, and he kissed her. And the little sparks ran along her nerve-ends the way they always did when he kissed her. She snuggled closer to deepen their kiss, running her fingers through his soft, gravity-defying hair, thinking about new ways to use paint, when she heard an embarrassed cough.

"Uh, guys," Max said. "Do you think you can go make out in your own living room? I need to be in the office by 6:30 am tomorrow, and it's really late."

"Up past your bedtime, old man?" Michael smirked.

Maria poked him. "We've imposed enough, spaceboy. Let's go home. If you're good, I'll tell you in the car about this new idea I had about what we could do with your paint...." Grabbing a handful of Michael's shirtfront, Maria started to pull him with her out of Max and Liz's living room and toward the front door.

Like the good host he was, Max followed them.

Maria had almost succeeded in getting herself and Michael out of Max's hair, had almost completely closed the front door behind them, when she remembered the last thing she had wanted to say and poked her head back inside. "Max, can you get Liz to call me when she simmers down?"

"Sure. Now get out of here. I need to get some sleep," Max said, but Maria saw an indulgent look in his eyes, a twinkle that got brighter when he winked at her. "And stop saying suggestive things about paint and what you can do with it in my driveway. What will my neighbors think?"

Maria laughed the way she always did when Max made one of his odd attempts at humor. When she got her breath back, she said mock-seriously, "You're lucky I'm not going to come back inside and thwap you for that."

"You are a very violent person late at night, Maria DeLuca Guerin," Max observed.

"You think, huh?" Maria said, grinning. She loved teasing Max because she enjoyed seeing that vaguely horrified look come over Max's face ... and because when he blushed, the tips of his ears got red too.

But her amusement evaporated when she saw Max rubbing his hand tiredly around the back of his neck. The poor guy was exhausted, she realized; she and Michael had really kept him up too late. Max and Liz weren't night people anymore, if they ever had been....

"I'm sorry, Max," Maria said. Acting on impulse, she let go of the doorknob and pushed the door open far enough so she could step back inside and stand up on tiptoe to kiss Max's cheek. "You're too easy to tease. I'll call you tomorrow to let you know how it goes."

"Good," Max said, his cheeks faintly red again. "Now go home before Michael remembers he wanted to kill me before."

"He wouldn't," Maria said matter-of-factly.

"I know. But I don't want to push him."

"Maria..." Michael growled as he stuck his head into the house again. "What are you doing? You're always making me late for everything."

Maria tilted her head at him. "Late for what, spaceboy? You got somewhere you wanna be or something you need to do?" Ignoring Max's quiet groan, she fluttered her eyelashes at her dorkbutt.

"Definitely something I wanna do," Michael drawled, his eyes darkening the way they always did when she flirted with him.

"Okay, that's it," Max said testily. He rapped his fingertips pointedly on the front door, reminding them where it was, Maria supposed. "I don't need this," he said. "Go home. And remember what I said about saying or doing suggestive things in the driveway."

Michael snapped out of his Maria-induced trance to stare at his disgruntled best friend. Recognizing the wicked look in Michael's eye, Maria waited for the explosion she knew was coming; Michael loved needling Max into losing his patience. Sure enough, Michael smirked and said the one thing guaranteed to push Max over the edge. Michael clicked his heels together and saluted: "Yes, oh fearless leader."

Maria giggled.

Max slammed the front door.

But, Maria noticed, because it was Max, it was a quiet slam.

"I guess we should've called first," Michael said as he regarded the closed front door thoughtfully.

"I guess so," Maria agreed, still giggling. She grabbed Michael's arm to tug him to the car. "C'mon, spaceboy. Let's go home. I still need to tell you about that paint idea I had...."

The End

Additional Author's Note:

This story is essentially a public service announcement. Breast self-examinations (BSEs) are essential to do if you're a woman (not that breast cancer isn't found in men, because it is, just not that commonly). If you don't know how to do a BSE, there are a lot of resources on the web that can tell you how. Here are two:

http://www.breastdoctor.com/breast/exam.htm

http://mystic.biomed.mcgill.ca/~zsuzsi/HTML/BSE.html

Please visit these sites. Please do a BSE every month.

Don't take risks with your health.

So ends Dani's public service announcement number one. We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming....

Back to the Future Arc