A problem had presented itself.

No matter how hard she turned the knob, it wouldn't budge.

"Dammit!" Maria swore under her breath, realizing there was nothing she could do.

Or was there?

She began to kick the door repeatedly until her toes started throbbing.

"Oh, mom is so going to kick my ass," Maria muttered.

She didn't know what to do. She had to be at work in an hour, her mother was going to be gone for at least 2 hours, and Liz wasn't at home for Maria to call.

She had forgotten her keys.

She had only one other option and she didn't like it...Nope, she didn't like it at all.

***

"Look, I need you to do me a favor before you slam the door in my face," Maria rushed the words out.

Michael Guerin stood at his door, looking quite bored at Maria. Yawning, he turned around and walked into his kitchen, leaving the door open for Maria to let herself in.

"Okaaaaay then," Maria said. "So I need my other uniform because I locked myself out of my house."

"Figures," Michael muttered.

"Yeah, uh huh, so where is it?" Maria asked.

"Somewhere in there." Michael pointed to the closet.

Michael Guerin was not sure if he was still awake or caught in some horrible nightmare, because his ears began to deceive him.

Maria Deluca was cursing so loosely in spanish he began to wonder if he needed to hire a bodyguard.

***

"Finally!" Maria said, exasperated.

"Its about time, thought you would nefer find that or sumfin," Michael said, lazily chewing on a Pop Tart while sitting on the counter.

"Yeah, and I thought I would never get the thrill of seeing half chewed food," she mumbled. "Um, yeah, so, Michael, I have one more favor to ask...I kinda need your bathroom to get prepped up..." she added.

Michael sighed, "Yeah, Ok. Just don't take too long, got it?"

***

What the hell is taking her so long? Michael thought to himself.

He always wondered why girls took so long to prep themselves up for any occasion, even if the occasion was to slave around in a restaurant all day.

Ah, screw it, Michael thought.

He got up and didn't bother knocking, surprisingly walking in on Maria doing something private...

"Whoa! What the hell are you doing?" Michael asked, shielding his eyes away from Maria and her bare legs.

"Shaving," Maria replied, adding no other explanation.

"Hold on, Paula Cole, this is my bathroom and my sink...why are you clogging up my sink with your shaving remains?" Michael retorted.

He received a snort from Maria, "I wouldn't talk...Chewbacca," she shot back.

"Hey," Michael muttered. "I like to think I look damn good."

"Whatever, Shaft." Maria murmured.

"Why do you have to do this in *my* bathroom? I mean...isn't there some sort of chick colony for this?" Michael whined.

Maria looked at Michael and raised her eyebrows, "Interesting, um, Michael, the library called they want their books on chivalry back."

"Hey, do you have any other razors? This one is so dull," Maria said.

Michael couldn't help but stare at her. "You're NOT using my razor..."

Maria looked around the room as if he were speaking to someone else. "Um...yeah, what's wrong with me using the razor? All my things are in my house behind that locked door, remember?" She couldnt help but grin as she added, "'sides, it's not like you'll be needing it, oh bare faced one."

She knew that comment had officially ended the argument and Maria watched lazily as Michael walked out of the bathroom with his head down.

Suddenly the door began to curse.

"Yeah, right back atcha buddy," Maria replied.

***

Maria walked back into the front room and found herself surprised to see Max and Isabel standing there.

Isabel just grinned and Max lowered his eyes. She couldn't help but dart a look at Michael, who looked a bit green (if she could say so herself.)

"Nice way to stick up for all woman kind," Isabel murmured with a grin supressed on her lips.

"I tryn" she replied.

"Oh, come on, Michael, lighten up. Be proud, your home is yours again. I didn't savagely destroy it in any way, shape or form."

"Yeah, whatever...Don't you have work or something?" he asked.

"Actually, yeah," Maria looked at Isabel, "Would you?"

"No prob, I'll drop you off. Doesn't Alex hang out at the Crashdown on Fridays anyway?" Isabel asked with a small grin swiped across her face.

"Down, Girl," Maria said.

"All right, see ya, Max," Maria waved and turned to Michael. "Bye, Chewy."

Michael could hear Isabel's giggle from behind the closed door.

He let out a loud groan.

"She's driving me crazy, Max," Michael said, pacing across the room.

"Michael, she isn't that bad..." Max began.

"No, I mean she is driving me nuts, not being with her, not being able to touch her...I can't help it..." Michael explained.

"Do you love her?" Max asked, surprised.

"How do you know?" Michael asked, confused.

"Well, when you can't go without her is one sign, the other being that everything you thought was a flaw becomes a thing you admire," Max chuckled.

"Oh..." Michael said.

Max couldn't read the expression on Michael's face, he couldnt help but ask.

"Well?"

"Everything about her...her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect, and it's these things I'd believe in even if the whole world thought that she wasn't all she should be...it's so damn attractive. I like her a lot and I think that's the beginning of everything," Michael said to himself.

"Wow...you know, Michael, I really think I'm rubbing off on you..." Max said, grinning.

Michael threw a pillow at Max. "Shuddup," he said, returning the grin.

"So what do I do?" Michael asked in all seriousness.

"Tell her," Max said simply.

"That's all you have to say? Where is the Ghandi likeness of you?"

Max laughed again and it began to annoy Michael. "Michael, there is nothing else to say, you have to let her know. Think about it." He glanced down at his watch. "I gotta go. Believe it or not, this Ali Baba has to clean out the garage."

Michael watched the door shut quietly and he sighed.

Love, the one thing he had never had for anyone else except Max and Isabel...

He wondered how he knew that she was the one...

Love is...born with the pleasure of looking at each other.

He remembered when he couldn't help but look at her through the corner of his eye at the Crashdown. She had smiled at him too. He smiled as he thought of Isabel's reaction and her sudden departure from the front of the restaurant.

Love is fed with the necessity of seeing each other.

He remembered the reasons he actually went to school; to look at her from a distance.

Love is concluded with the impossibility of separation.

He couldn't help but be near her all the time. Even by playing it off casually, he made excuses to be near her.

Yep, Michael thought to himself. He was in love with the little razor stealing blonde pixie. But Michael knew that if loving her was considered hell, he didnt want to suffer at the hands of the angels above.

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