Author's Note: Set some time after "Toy House", giving M&M enough time to recuperate. Follows "On the Loose" and "These Broken Wings"

"Desperado
Oh you ain't gettin no younger
Your pain and your hunger are drivin you home
Freedom, oh freedom
Well that's just some people talkin'
Your prison is walkin through this world all alone."

--"Desperado", Clint Black/The Eagles (whichever version you prefer)

He was at her locker that morning. She had to blink five times and sniff some of her trusty vial of cedar before she realized it wasn't a dream. He was really leaning up against her locker, at 9:30 in the morning. She was impressed. Usually he didn't show up until 3rd or 4th period. But he was there, dressed in his usual dark jeans and Stan's bowling shirt--whoever Stan was, running his hands through his messy brown hair.

"Hey." And then he actually smiled at her.

"Hey." Maybe the world had ended without anyone telling her.

"So, umm, there's this movie playing tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to go see it."

She dropped her books all over the floor. Blinked at him again. "Have I been abducted? Because this is so not funny..."

"Stop being such a cheesehead! It's no big deal. I'm just asking you out." He glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Excuse me," she said in her best casual voice. Then she turned around, reached into her pocket, and took another deep breath of cedar oil. She could feel the fumes coursing through her lungs. And then she proceeded to do a little happy dance. When she was composed, she turned back to Michael, who was trying not to grin.

"So, you wanna?" He had that almost pleading look on his face. Like he was trying to ask, but he didn't know how. That vulnerable Michael look that meant another chink in his stone wall had fallen down.

And she smiled at him. "Yeah, of course. Come by the Crashdown at 8."

And he gave her that quirky grin of his. "Okay, cool. 8 at the Crashdown. That works." And when he walked away, she swore that she saw him strutting a little.

Liz stared at her. "He asked you out on a date?"

"Yeah, can you believe it?" Maria grinned like a maniac. They stood by the sinks in the bathroom between 3rd and 4th period. "I couldn't believe it. I thought I was dreaming or something. It's an actual date. He actually said, 'asking you out.'"

Liz put her arms around Maria, hugging her tight. "I can't believe it. That's great." She gave her best friend a little shove, grinning. "I told you he'd change his mind."

Maria gave Liz a Look.

"Okay, so it took him months. It took Max forever too, remember?" And there was that soft smile on Liz's face again. The soul-mate look, Maria called it. The look that meant that for once, there was peace in Czechoslovakia. Now, if Alex and Izzy would hurry their way up from friendship...

She rested her head against Liz's for a minute, calming her racing heart down. An actual date. A real date. Not macking in the eraser room, though sometimes she really missed that. Not a napkin holder, though that still sat on the kitchen sink at home. Not sneaking in her window at night, and the soft kiss she sometimes felt on her cheek or forehead when she slept. It was an actual date, something that bordered on commitment. Their first real date--a teenage milestone. A milestone because he was letting himself do something human, and with her.

The Crashdown Cafe, 8 pm. Maria sat at the counter, across from Mr. Parker, finally glad to be out of her grease-stained uniform. Not that she didn't love working there--Mr. Parker was great, and gave her and Lizzie plenty of responsibility few would trust kids their age with. But sometimes waiting hand and foot on annoying tourists and freaky X-philes had its drawbacks--severe drawbacks.

"So he's taking you where?" Jeff gave her a friendly grin. "I have to do this, Maria. Remember when Doug Sohn wanted to take you to that party when you were 14? I missed giving him the daddy lecture then, so I have to do it now. And when you and Michael came in for sundaes that Halloween?" They both grinned, remembering the food fight, and the extra M&Ms on the hot fudge sundaes. At least now, Michael's reaction to her wanting extra alien blood made sense...

She couldn't help loving Jeff Parker. He was the father she'd never have. He taught her how to dance, how to hit a softball, and how to throw a good punch if a guy ever tried anything on her. And he'd done it with the same manner that he taught Liz--as if she was his daughter. But she wasn't. Though sometimes she did like to pretend...

"We're going to a movie in Clovis--he wouldn't tell me which one, but somehow he got tickets." She gave Mr. Parker a teasing grin. "I'll be home before curfew."

He gave her a one-armed hug across the counter. "Just give Lizzie a quick call when you get home. I know your mom's out of town, and I'd rather that you stayed here..."

Of course, sometimes, Mr. Parker took the father attitude too far.

"--But I realize that you're seventeen now, and you've stayed alone before, so just give Lizzie a ring, so that we won't worry too much." He gently tugged on her short curls. "Okay, Maria?"

But at least she knew he cared. "I will. Promises."

And then she heard a cough behind her. A smile began to tug at Mr. Parker's mouth. "Michael Guerin. What a nice surprise."

She turned around in time to see Michael look startled. "Um, thanks, sir." Where was the smoothtalker who could usual con parents into anything? And was Michael actually blushing?

"So, you're here to take my little girl out, huh?" Jeff gave Michael a stern look. "You do realize that I regard Maria as my second child."

But Michael survived the initial meeting with her mother, so he could survive this. She sat back with a little smirk to watch his squirm.

"Her curfew is usually midnight, but since you're going to Clovis, I'll extend that until 1, giving you ample time to see the movie, and come home. And since it is a Friday night, I won't penalize you too much if she's home late. But do remember that even though her mom is out of town, I'll still know everything that happens in her house." And Jeff gave him a dark glare, full of unnamed threats. "Everything."

Michael opened his mouth several times, blinking in that surprised way he had. He licked his lips before choking out, "Yessir."

And then Jeff turned on that smile that Liz was famous for. "I'm sure you'll take care of my little girl." He reached out his hand.

For a moment, Michael stared at it, that deer in the headlights look in his eyes. But when Maria smiled a soft smile at him and gave him a nod, he took Jeff's hand and shook it. "I will, sir. I promise."

"Drive safely, Miss DeLuca. I know how much your mother prizes that car." And Mr. Parker grinned at her before giving her a quick hug and a kiss. "Take care, okay? And remember that kick I showed you," he whispered.

Liz came out, still in her uniform, and gave Maria a huge hug too. "Details, girl. I want details when you get home." Maria hugged Liz back, and they giggled. Then, Liz shot a grin at Michael, who actually looked like he put thought into what he would wear tonight. "Hey, isn't that one of Max's sweaters?" she teased.

Michael grinned at her. "Let's just say that a good friend lent it to me."

For some reason, both Michael and Lizzie laughed. And before Maria could feel left out, Michael took her hand, the way he used to when they were younger. "Come on, cheesehead, we're gonna be late."

Beaming like an idiot, she allowed Michael to lead her out to the Jetta. She didn't catch the tender look on Jeff Parker's face as she left the Crashdown, or the way Liz leaned against her father, as if to say that he still had one baby left.

"So, what movie are we going to see?" She decided to let Michael drive, since it gave her plenty of opportunity to stare at him--and control of the radio. They finally settled on an alternative station, with enough music they both hated to please them both.

"That new Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan flick. It's a sneak preview tonight. This guy that works with Max's dad gave him tickets." He grinned briefly at her before turning back to the dark highway.

"Hey, is it just me, or does Tom Hanks remind you of someone?" There was something about the narrow face, the blue eyes, and the shape of the ears... She shook her head. It was probably that she'd seen him in every movie since Big. Even Joe Vs. the Volcano. At least everything always ended happily for him.

And then, the Jetta began to shake and rattle. Smoke oozed out of the vents. And the car died in the middle of the cold, dark highway.

"Shit!" Michael hit the steering wheel. "Why can't you have a car that actually runs?"

"What, like the Jeep? Just don't try and fix it like you did last time, cheesehead!" She glared at him. "Of course this would have to happen the one time you ask me out on a date." She looked back out the window before he could see the tears in her eyes.

There was silence for a while, and then she felt a hand on her shoulder. "I'm...sorry." The voice was hesitant, as if it was the first time he'd ever apologized to someone.

She wiped away her tears, and then turned around to face him. He flipped on the reading light, and reached on to touch her face lightly with his hand. She tried not to smile when she noticed the blue paint on the knuckle. He dried away the rest of her tears, his dark eyes watching her with that wary, intent look.

"If you have your phone, we could always call Max..."

And she shook her head. "No, not yet."

Then he unfastened his seatbelt, opened the car door, and got out. While she stared at him, he walked around the car to her side, and opened the passenger door. He clicked the release button on the seatbelt, and held out his hand to her.

"Where are we--"

He put one finger to her lips as he helped her out of the car. Then, he got the blanket out of the back-seat. Leading her around to the hood of the car, he spread the blanket out, and then hopped up, laying on his back. He patted the blanket beside him. "I'm not the last alien on earth, but..."

She chuckled, then laid down next to him on the hood of the car. They were careful not to touch too much, just like when they were in elementary school together. But she could still feel his warmth at her side. She moved over so that their shoulders touched, and smiled as she felt the old spark fire up between them.

"So, what are we looking at?" Her voice was quiet. It was almost as if they were in church--she felt like, if she spoke out loud, she'd break the spell. And his hand pointed up to the stars. "Just...all those out there. There are so many of them."

"Billions and billions, Liz said once. So far away too." Her hand felt for the comfort of his as they laid there in silence.

"So far out of reach." He squeezed her hand. She had an almost memory of this--looking up at the stars with him in another life, a simpler time. She couldn't quite remember it, but sometimes, in her dreams, or when she looked at the old arrowhead that sat on her dresser, pieces came back to her. The door opened in spurts to all of her old memories.

She lifted herself up on one elbow to look at him, and was surprised to find tears in his eyes. They sparkled in the twilight. "Michael?" Untangling her fingers with his, she reached out with as gentle a touch to wipe his tears away.

And with a vulnerability that she rarely saw on his face, he took her hand in his and kissed it gently. "Do you remember the last time?"

And she did. That walk--the first time she'd really seen the hurt boy beneath the 11 year old rebel. Before she'd known why he looked at the stars with such longing, and why he turned such a hateful stare to everyone else. That was over five years ago, that night that drew them together, and then its intensity blasted them apart.

"You're getting intense," he'd said once, the first time he broke it off with her. And both had heard the unspoken 'again.'

So she smiled. "I remember." And she laughed. "I never told anyone either. Not even Lizzie. I couldn't admit that I'd kissed Cheeseface Guerin again."

And another long-repressed dream suddenly made sense. "The rose! It was you!" She socked him. "You went dreamwalking into my dream, that night! You jackass!"

"Princess!" But his eyes were laughing as he reached out, pulling her down on top of him."Cheesehead," she mumbled, before his lips found hers.

Minutes or hours or lifetimes later, when they came up for air, Maria lay in the quietly in the shelter of his arms. There was something comforting about his warmth at her side. Something that felt like it was meant to be. But she could've shove all of this back into the closet again. Not after everything that had happened over the past year and more.

"Michael?"

His hand came to play with her short curls, his touch gentler than it had been years before. "Why did you cut them?"

"What?" Typical Michael Guerin, out-of-the-blue, question. She raised herself up from his chest again to look in his eyes. His fingers entwined themselves deeper into her curls.

"Why'd you cut them? I loved your hair the way it was. Like a cloud of gold." And for once, there was no smirk on his face. Just...pure, serious Michael.Why had she cut them? Right before freshman year of high school, she'd decided, out of nowhere, to make a fresh start. And when the scissors had slowly cut away her childhood, and those long curls had fallen to the floor, unexplainable tears had slipped to mingle with the shorn hair. She remembered the feeling of loss, like she was breaking a tie to something fragile and precious. But she needed to cut her ties before she could find them again.

"It was you."

From the look in his eyes, and the way his fingers brushed against her cheek, he understood. And a bit of his old smirk returned to his face. "When I saw that, I hated you so much..."So she returned his saucy grin. "More than usual?"

"Dipstick Lips."

"Evil Duckboy."

He sat up enough to brush her lips with his. "Fracket wrench."

She nibbled on his earlobe, giggling softly as he squirmed. "Fricktion head."

And then he pulled away from her. Sat up, and edged out of range of her touch for the first time that night. "Maria..."

She closed her eyes. Whenever he said her name like that, it was never anything good.

"If you're gonna break up with me again, let's get it over with so that I can at least have some quality ice cream time with Liz before the night's over." She sat up, facing him, her hands folded in her lap. She'd learned control since grade school. She didn't reach out with fists anymore to beat the first person who dared to infringe on one of her friends. But she still raged inside. And she still yelled. Maria had always been good at yelling--especially at Michael Guerin.

And the look he shot her was one full of such pain... "I'm not breaking up with you."

And for the second time that day, Michael shocked ten years off her life. "What?" No witty quips. No gross names leftover from 5th grade. Just...surprise. Shock. Hello, Armageddon, is that you?

A slight smile hovered at his soft lips. It was that shy smile that he got sometimes, when she was the only one around. "I can't...I can't promise forever, or next week, or whatever, and I'll be a jackass a lot, but..."

Again, his hand touched her face, to try and say everything he couldn't. Everything that a bright blue little napkinholder had said, and an arrowhead six years ago. And the wild rose that she still kept, sealed in an envelope, for when she was old enough. He lifted his eyes to hers, and in their bottomless dark depths, she could read years of memories that neither had really forgotten.

"Are we old enough?" She couldn't put all of this back into that tiny closet of forgotten memories. This was as big as the universe--bigger than anything. It was Michael, and that spark she always felt. And the fact that she was growing her hair out again--something she hadn't done in almost three years.

He opened his mouth a few times, blinking rapidly, as he always did when he wasn't sure of what to say. She seemed to do that to him a lot. She cupped his face in her hands, hoping that would help him say whatever he needed to. "I don't know if we'll ever be old enough. But we can try."

And his eyes spoke of all his fears, of all the questions he threw out to the stars every night and never got the answers to. Then he pulled her back into his arms, so that she sat in his lap, her back to his chest. He pointed up to the inverted triangle that had haunted all of them since Michael was dying. "See that? That's like my north star." He rested his chin on her shoulder, his breath tickling her cheek. "I promise, no matter what, I'll always find my way back."

She turned her head to brush her lips against his cheek before snuggling back into his arms. "I know." That was all that needed to be said. There wasn't anymore.

"So, how was the movie?" Liz's voice was excited, even over the crackly phone. Somehow it had never been the same after Valentine's Day, when Michael fried the phonewires.

"We never made it. The car blew up again." Maria laid back against her pillows, clutching a stuffed alien to her chest. "But Michael got it fixed."

"And? Maria, I want details!" She could hear the laughter in her best friend's voice. "I always give you details."

Maria grinned. "No. You waited an entire week to tell me that Max kissed you the first time."

"Mari-iaaaaaaaaa!"

"It was good, Lizzie. We're on our way back. And that's all I need to say."

She smiled in the darkness. The door was opened now, wedged in place so tightly that he'd always be able to find his way back.

"Did he kiss you goodnight when you dropped him off? Details, Maria!"

"Promise kisses. Nothing eraser room." That could wait, until they were old enough.

Liz's happy sigh floated across town over the phoneline. "Now, if only Izzy and Alex..."

Maria chuckled. "Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match."

"I'm just glad you had a good time."

And she smiled softly, tracing the pattern on her flowered comforter. "Me too. Night, Lizzie. I love you."

"I love you too. See you at work tomorrow. We have a date with ice cream."

And Maria looked down to the other side of the bed, where a spiky-haired rebel snored, still dressed in dark jeans and a borrowed sweater. She ran her hand lightly over his hair, smiling when a brief smile lit up his face at her touch.

There was plenty of time to worry about the future, now that they were old enough. They'd found their way back from the stars, just as she'd hoped they would.

"It may be rainin,
but there's a rainbow above you.
You better let somebody love you (let somebody love you)
Before it's too late."

--"Desperado", Clint Black/The Eagles

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