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 Post subject: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) complete 22/12
PostPosted: Sun Dec 14, 2008 6:33 pm 
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Location: The Sock Drawer
TITLE: Christmas Island
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Roswell, just borrowing.
RATING: Starts out innocently, will venture into adult territory
PAIRING: Michael and Maria.

Based on an idea by Killjoy.

This is for Sarah aka Insidious Heart who won my services in the recent author auction and requested smutty, fluffy Christmasy Candy. I hope this satisifies.

Thanks to Rosdude for this lovely banner.

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Prologue



Max Evans and his wife Liz had a ritual. Every Sunday evening, they would turn on Desperate Housewives and curl up on the couch to watch it together with a bottle of red wine and a blazing fire. Nothing and nobody got in the way of this.

On the Sunday before Christmas, they had just settled onto the couch when the phone rang. Usually they let the machine pick it up, but they still listened just in case it was important.

They heard the sound of their own voices, then the beep.

Then a sniffle. “Liz, it’s me. Can you call me back? I really need to talk to you. I-”

Liz picked up the receiver. “Maria, what’s wrong?”

Max slumped in his seat. If Maria was upset then they would be on the phone all night.

Liz listened to Maria talk for a moment, then turned to him and pumped the air triumphantly, a smile of delight graced her lips. “Oh, honey, that’s too bad,” she said sympathetically. She stood up and gestured five minutes to Max then wandered away into the kitchen. On the TV, Mary Alice’s voice heralded the start of the episode.

He could hear Liz making consoling sounds from the kitchen occasionally, but mostly she was silent, listening to Maria ramble on, no doubt.

When the end credits rolled, he went in search of his wife. She was sitting at the table, half way through a carton of vanilla ice cream. He took a spoon from the drawer and sat down opposite her. She pushed the carton towards him and grinned happily.

“I know Maria. It’s sad but I think you made the right decision. Ok…ok. I’ll see you tomorrow… Try and get some sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

Max stared at her in confusion. All the signs pointed to Maria being very upset about something but Liz seemed delighted by it, even though she was being completely sympathetic.

A few moments Liz hung up. “Great news, Maria broke up with Billy.”

“Oh.” While Max didn’t particularly like Billy and knew that he wasn’t Liz’s favorite person either, he was shocked that Liz was so happy to hear her best friend had broken up with her boyfriend of two years just before Christmas.

“Yeah, Maria said she just realized that she’s not in love with him. So they broke up.”

“Is she upset?”

“He was a total ass about it. He started screaming at her and he even got physical. That’s what’s upset her more than anything.”

“Oh my God, is she ok?” Max asked.

“She’s ok. Kyle was there and he kicked Billy out on his ass. But she’s upset that it went down like that. Just because she’s not in love with him doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about him. And they’ve been co-writing songs together for years now, it’s the end of an incredibly successful working relationship too. I told her when she got together with him that it would end badly.”

Max winced. “Please tell me you didn’t say ‘I told you so’ to her?”

“Of course not,” Liz laughed. “So of course, her plans to go to Hawaii with him for Christmas are out the window. Kyle and Tess are spending it with her parents in Boston. Jim and Amy are on the cruise…”

“So you invited her to spend it with us?” Max concluded.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Liz asked.

“Of course not, I love Maria,” he reassured her. He sat back in his chair and scrutinized Liz’s face. “You don’t look very upset for her. In fact, you look thrilled.”

Liz looked at him like he was crazy. “I am. She’s single and Michael’s single. It’s the first time in four years they’re both single at the same time.”

“Michael who?”

“Michael.”

“Michael Parker?”

“Yes.”

“Your brother? My best friend?”

Liz giggled. “Yes, my brother, your best friend, Michael.”

Max shook his head, unable to grasp what Liz was saying. “They’re both single and…?”

“Finally, they’ll be able to get together,” Liz squealed excitedly.

Now it was Max’s turn to look at her like she was crazy. “What?”

Liz repeated herself slowly. “Michael and Maria will be able to get together.”

“What?”

“Tell me you see how perfect they are for each other. And it’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe you never noticed this before.”

Max’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “Michael and Maria? They hate each other.”

Liz shook her head. “No they don’t. It’s classic sexual tension. You’ll see.”

***

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Last edited by nibbles2 on Mon Dec 22, 2008 7:30 pm, edited 12 times in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM)
PostPosted: Mon Dec 15, 2008 5:25 pm 
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one


Maria arrived the next day in true Maria Deluca Style. She stormed up the pathway to the front door, her phone pressed to her ear and talking a mile a minute. Liz opened the door and Maria hurried in past her, blowing a kiss without breaking stride. She paced up and down the living room, giving somebody a tongue lashing while her assistant struggled in with Maria’s three Louis Vuiton suitcases and her guitar case. Liz rushed to help the other woman and together they brought Maria’s luggage into the house.

Maria snapped her phone shut and threw it on the couch. “I feel like I should be smoking, people in stressful situations always seem to be smoking,” she said aloud to nobody in particular.

Liz met the assistant’s glance and raised her eyebrows in surprise. Maria hated smoking with a passion. As a singer, she needed to take care of her voice and wouldn’t allow anybody to smoke in her presence.

“Maria,” Liz said, moving towards her best friend in expectation of a hug.

“That cocksucker,” Maria spat, she resumed her pacing, oblivious to Liz’s empty outstretched arms.

“What’s wrong?” Liz asked. Maria didn’t turn her head so Liz looked at the assistant.

The assistant leaned in and whispered. “Billy went to the press and told them he dumped her. And he says that he has a sex tape.”

“Oh my God,” Liz exclaimed loudly. “A sex tape? Maria.”

This time Maria did hear Liz. She whirled around in fury. “I did not make a sex tape. I do have some class you know. That prick, that fucker, that asshole must have filmed us in bed together with a secret camera.”

“He could be lying,” the assistant piped up hopefully.

“What if he’s not? Oh my God, I’ll die of embarrassment. My mom could see it. And all those sleazy jerks who stick my head on porn star’s bodies. And my little nephew.”

Liz resisted the urge to point out that Tess hadn’t given birth yet so there was no way her nephew would see it. Of course, if the tape made it onto the internet it would be out there for all posterity and in sixteen years time Maria’s nephew and even Maria’s own children could stumble across it. She made her way across the room and enveloped Maria in a tight hug.

This time, Maria responded, squeezing Liz tightly and bursting into tears. Liz rubbed her back and rocked Maria gently until she had calmed down.

“I should go,” the assistant spoke up, edging slowly out of the room. “Merry Christmas Ms. Deluca, Ms. Evans.”

“Wait, wait,” Maria exclaimed. She rushed over to her bags and searched through them until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a pale blue Tiffany’s bag and thrust it towards the assistant. “This is for you, for being totally awesome and putting up with me and all my diva moments.”

Tears sprang to the assistant’s eyes and she hugged Maria tightly. “Thank you. There’s a little something in the other bag for you from me. I’ll see you in the New Year. Try not to worry about that dickhead. Your lawyers will sort him out.”

The two women hugged, then the assistant waved at Liz and rushed out the door to the waiting car. Liz followed after her to close the front door. On the street outside, she could see several strange cars had pulled up. It had taken the paparazzi all of ten minutes to arrive.

***



By the time Max got home from work, it was a full scale circus outside his own house. He had to show a police officer his ID to be allowed pull into the small drive outside his own house.

All the curtains were closed in every window and there were several people he didn’t know inside the house. Liz met him at the door and filled him in on what was happening.

Billy was trying to sell the tape to the highest bidder. Maria’s lawyers were simultaneously trying to get an injunction against him and trying to negotiate buying the tape from him themselves. Her publicist was trying to get the word out that Maria had dumped Billy. Her manager was berating her for breaking up the song writing partnership that had netted them all millions since Maria’s first album had been launched.

Maria herself was curled up on the bed in the guest room with tear tracks down her pale face. It made her look so young and vulnerable, a far cry from the confident, outgoing pop-star that Max was accustomed to. She greeted him with a hug and tried to put on a cheerful face but Max could see that it was difficult for her.

“I’m so sorry about all this,” she apologized. “I just didn’t want to spend Christmas alone and now I’m completely ruining yours. The irony is that now I just want to be by myself but I guess that’s not going to happen?”

Liz, who was lounging on the bed beside Maria, suddenly sat upright. “I have an idea. Grandma’s cabin.”

“What about it?” Maria prompted.

“You could go there. It’s on an island with one ferry out to it every day. They’re not going to follow you out there , you could come back for Christmas or we could go out there. There’s only a handful of people on the island they’re not the type to make a fuss over a famous pop star. What do you think?”

Maria pondered it for a moment. “Sounds ideal.”

Max looked at his wife. “Isn’t M-”

Liz gripped his arm. “MAX, why don’t you go downstairs and have something to eat. I have a plate made up for you.” She shot him a stern look that clearly meant ‘Shut up’.

“Yes dear.” Max scuttled down stairs and heated up his dinner in the microwave.

Liz joined him a few minutes later and kissed his cheek. “Sorry for yelling at you.”

“I know you mean well Liz, but is it really a good idea to send Maria out to the cabin when Michael’s there? She’s going through a tough time and he’s not exactly Mr. Sensitive. And it’s not really fair on him either. He went out there to get work done and we promised him that he wouldn’t be interrupted until Christmas.”

“I know, but trust me, they’ll thank me for this.”

Max shook his head. “I really think that you’ve lost your mind.”

Liz shook her head. “You’ll see.”

***

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) chapter one 15/12
PostPosted: Mon Dec 15, 2008 5:58 pm 
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So Liz is the one playing matchmaker this time.

Michael and Liz siblings huh.

Can't wait to read more!


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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) chapter one 15/12
PostPosted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 5:19 am 
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interesting start, loving the idea of Michael and Maria all alone on an island together for Christmas.

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) chapter one 15/12
PostPosted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 6:33 am 
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Great start, but poor Maria having to deal with a sex tape and the paps. Can't wait until she arrives on the island! Liz the matchmaker is too cute. :)

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch three 16/12
PostPosted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 2:18 pm 
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thanks, Rhonda, Neve and Sarah


Two

The idea of spending time on a rustic, yet fully equipped, wood cabin on a beautiful island seemed like a very romantic idea. Even the name sounded romantic – Christmas Island. In practice, Maria was beginning to think, it left a lot to be desired.

For one thing, she was absolutely freezing. In fact, a word to describe just how freezing she was hadn’t been invented yet.

The only way to reach the island was by ferry. At one time it had been connected by a bridge but that had been blown away in a storm. Plans to rebuild the bridge had fallen on the way side as the population of the island was so small, less than fifteen most of the year and less than five in the winter. Authorities had just figured that the ferry service would be adequate. Maria had been out to Liz’s family cabin before, but always during the summer when the weather was warm and pleasant and the sea conditions calm. The winter crossing was a different story completely. Her stomach was churning from the journey.

The ferry was small, it had a small room to shelter in with an old heater that produced less heat than a toaster. Maria had huddled up to it as close as she could but she was still frozen to the bone. The trip had taken over an hour, even though the island itself was only about ten miles out. The landing jetty was on the far side of the island, so the ferry made the trip to the two other islands on the circuit first and then landed on Christmas on the way back. A few people had climbed on and off at each stop. Maria was the only person who had disembarked on Christmas.

And then came the second reason this was a bad idea.

Maria prided her self on the fact that although she was a top international selling singer / songwriter she hadn’t become a total spoiled brat. She had her diva moments of course. But she didn’t make anybody address her as Ms. Deluca, she looked everybody in the eye and she never demanded that all the green M&M’s be removed from the pack before she ate them.

But in the four years since she had released her first CD, she had become accustomed to certain standards. She had her own driver so she didn’t have to negotiate busy LA traffic by herself. She had a housekeeper who cleaned and cooked. She had an assistant who did all her small errands. Maria was used to being driven to the door, having somebody else carry her bags and unpack them, she was used to luxury hotel rooms all laid out for her and service at the click of her fingers.

Here? A ferry hand had helped her carry the bags onto the jetty. He had left some objects in a covered boat and then climbed back on board. The ferry had then puttered off, leaving her completely alone with her bags and her guitar. She had a pretty good idea of where the cabin was and she definitely knew it involved an uphill trudge. In the snow. And the rapidly approaching dark. To a deserted cabin. In a wood. On a relatively deserted island.

Why on earth did she ever think this was a good idea?

The ferry was gone and wouldn’t be back until the next day so she was stuck here for the night. She could try and find the other inhabitants of the island but Liz often told a story how one of the permanent residents was a recluse who guarded his privacy with a shotgun. It was a sentiment Maria truly appreciated now more than ever, but she didn’t want to go in search of the friendly inhabitant and accidentally knock on the door of the gun toting neighbor.

So her only option was to grab her bags and make her way to Liz’s cabin. She would spend the night there and get the ferry back to the mainland in the morning. Providing that she wasn’t eaten alive by wolves or something while she slept.

There was no way that she was going to able to carry all three, rather large, bags all by herself to the cabin. So she chose the smallest one and stuffed the other two into a boat covered in tarpaulin. She considered opening the bag to make sure that she had everything she needed but she was too cold to hang around. All she wanted to do was get to the cabin, have something to eat and go to bed.

***


Michael Parker was a simple man. Give him food, warmth, a TV, Metallica and leave him alone, was that too much to ask?

With a deadline for his third book fast approaching, Michael had come to the cabin to take advantage of its quiet and seclusion and get some writing done. It had been a very successful week as he had already reached the quota he had set for himself and felt that the end was in his sights. He just needed three, maybe four days and the book would be finished.

And for that he cursed Christmas. He loved his sister and his best friend but the last thing he wanted was for them to arrive and disrupt his momentum. Being forced to take a day or two out could stop the creative juices flowing.

Liz and Max would arrive on the island on Christmas Eve and he would have no choice but to switch his computer off and be sociable. Liz would insist on a tree and on the box of Christmas decorations being dug out of the closet. She would want to cook elaborate meals in his clean kitchen and play silly games and have meaningful conversations by the fire. The thought of it was enough to make him hope that the storm Sam was predicting for Christmas blew in early and forced Liz and Max to stay on the mainland.

Michael had been writing all day without taking so much as a toilet break or stopping to grab food. His back was sore and his shoulders cramped. He was also pretty cold. He had lit a fire that morning, but then he had become so focused on his writing that he had let it die out. Without the heat of the fire, the cabin was an icebox. Despite the cold and the hunger and the bordering on painful need he had to go to the toilet, he would have kept going except the light was fading and he could no longer see. That was what finally forced him off the chair and away from his laptop. He was shocked to see how late it was when he stumbled into the kitchen in search of sustenance. The fridge was almost empty and he hoped that Sam had remembered to bring the provisions he had asked for. If the storm did come, the last thing Michael wanted was to be stuck on the island with no food.

In the kitchen he noticed the red light flashing on the answering machine. He had been so caught up in his writing that he had never even heard the phone ring. It was one of three people – Liz or their mother calling to make sure he was taking care of himself, or his publisher calling to remind him of the deadline.

He made a mental note of what he had to do. Go down to the Jetty and bring back the provisions that Sam had hopefully left for him. Bring in firewood and get a fire going. Make dinner. Call Liz to let her know he was still alive and to find out her plans for Christmas. If she was definitely coming to the island, then he would find the decorations and stick a few of them up. It was a pain but it would save him from having to deal with an upset Liz when she arrived out.

He made a sandwich of what was leftover in the fridge, then pulled on his heavy jacket and outdoor boots. It was cold outside, but he soon warmed up as he chopped firewood and hauled them to the box by the backdoor. When he figured he had enough to last for the night and the next day he put the axe down and brushed himself off. He decided the next thing he would do was relight the fire, then head down to pick up his provisions. That way the cabin would be warming up by the time he got back.

Michael walked in the back door, just as the front door opened

A small figure hurried inside and slammed the door shut. She dropped the bag and the guitar case she was carrying and fumbled for the light switch.

“Liz?” Michael said in surprise.

She screamed and turned in his direction. Michael turned on a lamp and the room was bathed in its soft glow.

Maria pulled her woolen cap off and stared at him in shock. Neither of them said anything for a moment, then they both spoke at once. “What they hell are you doing here?”

“This is my cabin and I came out here for some peace and quiet,” Michael informed her. He wasn’t quite shouting, but his voice was loud and forceful.

“This is Liz’s cabin and I came out here for some peace and quiet,” Maria replied angrily. “Does she know you’re here?”

“I don’t need permission to be here, Grandma left it to the two of us. But as it happens, yes, Liz does know I’m here. She and Max are coming out here for Christmas. Does she know you’re here?”

Instead of answering him, Maria drew her phone out of her pocket and pressed Liz on speed dial. But she didn’t get a ringing tone. “Damn it, there’s no signal.” She tossed the phone onto the couch and moved further into the room. “Liz said I could use the cabin for a few days. She never mentioned that you’d be here. If I’d know, I would have gone somewhere else.”

Michael swiveled on his heal and walked over to the phone, he hit the play button on the machine and Liz’s voice filled the room.

Hi Michael, it’s me, Liz. Uh… Maria is going through some stuff and she really needed to get away so I told her she could use the cabin. I know you need quiet and all that to work, but Maria needs privacy. She’ll be there on the ferry this evening. And Michael, she’s having a really hard time right now, so be nice.

He sighed in annoyance and glared at Maria. She was shooting daggers at the machine, clearly not happy at the way Liz had portrayed her in the message. He didn’t really care what melodrama she had going on her life, all that he cared about was how it was going to interfere with him. “Fine, you can stay. But this is my cabin and I was here first so you’re going to have to respect that. I’m at a crucial stage in my book so I need absolute quiet during the day and no interruptions.”

“Look, asshole, I had already decided that I’m only going to stay one night and tomorrow I’m taking the ferry back to the mainland.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

They glared at each other for a few more moments and slowly Michael began to take in her appearance. She was trembling with the cold, her skin and her lips were tinged with blue. Although she was well wrapped up, he knew from personal experience that the clothes she wore would not have provided adequate heat for the hour long ferry trip.

Despite himself, he felt some sympathy for her. “I’m going to start a fire. You can take Liz’s room. If you want to take a bath, turn on the water heater. It will be hot in about fifteen minutes. There’s some food in the kitchen, help yourself.”

Maria was so taken aback that he was being nice to her that she almost replied with an insult on automatic reflex. She stopped herself in time. “Thanks.”

She picked up her bag and shuffled up the narrow stairs to the small attic room. Michael busied himself clearing out the remains of the dead fire and getting a new one going. He heard the stairs creak behind him as Maria came back down but kept his back to her for a minute, holding his hands to the flames to warm them up. He could sense that she was standing behind him and didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of giving her any attention. Just because Liz said he had to be nice didn’t mean he was going to start pandering to little Miss Diva’s every whim. He would be polite and civil but he wasn’t going to play nursemaid.

Eventually he stood up and looked her way. Her face was turned towards the fireplace but her gaze was unfocused. She was still wearing her parka and gloves. She looked like the little girl he used to know before she became famous. Michael could feel his resolve to not be nice dissolving.

He and Maria had always had a tempestuous relationship. He had met her when the Parkers had fostered him at the age of eleven. She and Liz had erected a huge banner and made him a plate of cookies. They had even decorated his new room. Liz had given him her CD player and Maria produced a pile of CDs for him to listen to. He had flipped through them and pronounced them ‘girly crap’. Maria had taken umbrage to the remark and yelled at him. They had never gotten along since.

Strangely, though, he had appreciated Maria’s dislike of him. The Parker’s had spent months being super-nice to him, no matter how badly he had behaved. Maria, at least, hadn’t been fake. She didn’t like him and she was honest about it.

But just because they didn’t get along didn’t mean he didn’t care in some small way about her. He had known her for over half his life. She was his sister’s best friend. As their best friends had been high school sweethearts they had spent a lot of time with each other, rolling their eyes at Max and Liz’s fawning behavior.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

She glared at him. “I’m fine. You don’t have to feel sorry for me or be nice to me.”

Fine by him. “You can hang your coat on the rack by the door,” he said, changing the subject.

Maria nodded. “I’m just waiting to thaw out a little. My hands are frozen and I can’t manage the zips.”

Michael moved towards her, reaching out to undo her zip. She jumped back. “What are you doing?”

“I was just trying to help,” he said, disbelief at his own actions evident in his voice.

“Don’t help me. God. Keep your hands to yourself. Just treat me like you normally do.” Maria brushed past him to stand by the fire, pulling her gloves off as she did so. He could see that her hands were blue but slowly the warmth was seeping back into her.

“Fine. The water should be hot in a few minutes, help yourself to food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. I’m going out for a few minutes. Don’t touch anything while I’m gone.”

He grabbed his coat on the way out and slammed the door behind him. The cold, crisp night air hit him at once and he hurried to pull his things on. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm down. Nobody was able to get under his skin more than Maria Deluca. He cursed her as he walked down to the jetty.

He was glad to see that Sam had left the provisions in the upturned boat. He checked the receipt included in the bag and left enough money to cover the cost plus some extra in its place. Having Sam bring his stuff to the island for him meant that Michael didn’t have to leave his work and travel to the mainland. There was nothing like interacting with other people to destroy his concentration.

He groaned. Having Maria around, even if it was only for one night, was going to totally set him back. Already he had lost the train of thought that was normally running through his head when he was absorbed in work. Now all he could think of was Maria Deluca.

As he made his way back up the path to the cabin, it started to snow again. Inside, he quickly unpacked and put away the food and other things that Sam had brought for him. At the bottom of the box was a bottle of whiskey wrapped in a paper bag. Sam had scribbled ‘Happy Christmas’ on it in his spidery style. “Bless you, Sam,” Michael said softly.

Upstairs, he could hear noises indicating that Maria was taking a bath. He looked around the kitchen and guessed that Maria hadn’t eaten anything. There was no dirty knives or used cups lying around and he had known her long enough to know she never tidied up after herself. For half a second he considered making her something to eat so she wouldn’t mess up his clean kitchen. But that would mean he was being nice, so he decided not to. Didn’t want to upset the little princess after all.

He threw another log on the fire, grabbed his notebook and took a seat. He tried to put Maria out of his head and focus on his books. But he didn’t have much luck with that so he tossed the notebook away and turned on the TV. The reception wasn’t the greatest in the world and they could only get a limited number of channels but it was enough to keep him company in the evenings when he needed a break from writing. He found a hockey game in progress and settled down to watch it but he couldn’t get into it the way he normally did. His eyes kept darting to the stairs, and he kept wondering what Maria was doing, would she come down again or was she gone to bed?

Eventually he heard the door of Liz’s bedroom open and the sound of Maria coming down the stairs. He pretended to be engrossed in the game and ignored her until she called his name. When he turned to face her, he was shocked to find that she was wearing only a towel.

“Michael, I need a huge favor.”

“What?” he asked gruffly, trying not to show that her almost nakedness was having a surprising affect on him.

“I left two of my bags in one of the boats by the jetty, could you go and get them for me please?”

Michael snorted. “No way. It’s pitch dark, it’s snowing and there’s a game on. I’m not getting up from this nice blazing fire to go out in the dark and cold to fetch the bags you were too lazy to carry yourself.”

“I couldn’t carry them, I was only able to manage one of them and my guitar. All my clothes are in the other bags, the one I brought with me only has my underwear.”

“It’s your own fault for bringing the wrong bag. If you want the others, put on your clothes and go get them yourself.”

“But it’s dark outside and cold and snowing and I don’t know the way and my clothes are wet and dirty,” Maria whined. “I didn’t know there weren’t any clothes in the bag, my assistant packed it for me.”

“Well, why don’t you get her on the phone and have her go fetch it for you?” Michael asked. He didn’t look at her, couldn’t risk it. That pout…

Maria stamped her foot in frustration. “Can’t you just do this one thing for me? Would it really kill you to be-”

“Nice?” Michael filled in when she stopped abruptly. “Didn’t you tell me not to be nice to you?”

“What am I supposed to wear?” Maria asked angrily.

He sighed. “Surely Liz has some clothes up in the room?”

“I’ve checked, all that’s up there is a couple of bikinis. There’s no winter clothes. Michael, pleeeeease.”

“No.”

“You are such an asshole,” she shrieked before turning sharply and stomping back upstairs.

His lips turned up into a smirk and he went back to half concentrating on the game. Maria was making a lot of noise and banging a lot of drawers and doors in a room that supposedly had no clothes. She seemed to have got her hands on a hairdryer, he wondered if she had brought it with her or if it was Liz’s. He completely missed two goals and five fights in the game.

Half an hour after she had stormed upstairs, Maria came down for a second time. The towel was gone and this time she was wearing a silky camisole top, a pair of very small shorts and a large pair of woolen socks. Her hair looked silky and gleamed in the soft light. Her skin had a honey hue. In short, she looked like she had stepped out of a fashion shoot. It pissed Michael off.

She threw a nasty look his way as she passed through the living room into the kitchen. There was more banging and slamming as she made herself something to eat. Michael was dying to turn around to see exactly what she was up to but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. So he kept his eyes glued to the television and tried, in vain, to watch her reflection in its surface. A few minutes later she emerged and stood in the doorway.

“Would it be possible to borrow a hot water bottle or an extra blanket for the night?” She asked in an icy tone. “You know, something that might help me not freeze to death tonight.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “You are not going to freeze to death,” he assured her. But he did make his way to the closet and find both a hot water bottle and two blankets for her.

She snapped the hot water bottle out of his hand and disappeared into the kitchen. She was back with it a minute later, took the blankets from his arms and climbed the stairs without saying another word to him.

“Sweet dreams,” Michael called up to her in his cheeriest voice when she reached the top of the stairs. He heard her growl in response and couldn’t help but laugh. But his laughter quickly died when he walked into his formerly immaculate kitchen. It was a disaster zone. A bloodbath of the contents of his fridge.

She had done it on purpose because she knew how much he hated a messy kitchen.

From upstairs he could hear her singing happily to herself.

***

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch three 16/12
PostPosted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 5:45 pm 
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Location: Lost on a tropical island some where with Tess....so no rescue needed
Wonderful just like I knew it would be.

I have to say Maria's acting a bit bitchy....(is that better :grin) ... in this story.You don't go around treating someone like a jerk,tell him to leave you the hell alone AND than ask him to do favors for you. :roll:

And of course you know me I loved all the K/T stuff even if it was just mentioned and not seen :cheers


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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch three 16/12
PostPosted: Wed Dec 17, 2008 8:11 am 
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Killjoy - I think that's what counts as foreplay on Planet Candy. :grin

Love the new part and especially the relationship between Michael and Maria - Li z is so right, it's sexual tension.

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch three 16/12
PostPosted: Wed Dec 17, 2008 8:57 am 
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Hahaha, Maria's acting a bit precious.That will soon change though! Great part again. :)

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch three 16/12
PostPosted: Wed Dec 17, 2008 2:32 pm 
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Thanks Rod, Neve, Sarah.

:grin Yeah, I prefer bitchy to ass. But I think precious is the best description.

Three

Maria woke to find her room bathed in an eerie glow. It was still night outside but it was bright enough for her to be able to pick out the shapes of the furniture in the room. She wondered what was causing it. It wasn’t the glow of artificial lights that she was used to in the city and it was kind of creepy. She threw back the covers and climbed out of the bed. The room was cold but not freezing. In fact, despite her bitching earlier, the cabin was quiet pleasant. Though not really warm enough to parade around in her underwear as she had done earlier to annoy Michael.

She lifted the curtain and gasped. The scene outside her window was breathtaking. The ground was covered in a fresh blanket of snow which reflected the light of the full moon. Maria would have stood there for hours but the cold got to her and she pulled away. She realized that she wasn’t really sleepy anymore, so decided to go downstairs and get a drink of water. There was a throw on the back of a chair by the window and she grabbed it and wrapped it around her body toga style in lieu of a dressing gown.

Out in the landing, she flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. Maria stepped back into her room and tried the switch by the door but the bedroom light failed to come on either. The power was out. “Shit.”

Maria made her way down the stairs carefully, keeping a firm hold of the banister. There was some light in the living room from the dying embers of the fire and Maria was able to make out a candle sitting on the mantelpiece. She made her way across the room, bumping into a coffee table across the way. “Shit.” She hopped twice and rubbed her shin then limped the rest of the way.

After lighting the candle she spotted a sweater belonging to Michael lying on the couch. She pulled it on over her head. It was massive on her petite frame but it was warm. It had also retained some of his smell, which was woody and masculine and not nearly as nasty as she would have thought. Her stomach flipped for some odd reason. But she pushed the thought of Michael out of her mind and made her way into the kitchen. It was spotless and she chuckled at the thought of Michael cleaning up the mess she had deliberately made. Served him right for being such a jerk. She poured herself a glass of water and stood at the window looking out. It really was so beautiful here.

Though she’d never in a million years admit it to anybody she was kind of glad that Michael was there too. After all she was in an isolated cabin, surrounded by woods on a practically deserted island. And the lights had just gone out. That was the point the horror portion usually started in the horror movies. She shivered at the thought. It was a relief to have a big, strapping man in the cabin with her. Maybe she should wake him up and alert him to the power cut. Perhaps it was only a blown fuse.

Briefly she wondered what he wore to bed.

One time when she was younger, she had stayed over at Liz’s house and they had snuck into Michael’s room to cover him with toothpaste and shaving cream and other such things only to discover that he was sleeping naked. He had been sleeping on his stomach so she had only seen his finely toned ass. But it left a lasting impression. Of course that was during a hot dry summer in the desert of New Mexico, it was unlikely he went naked in the cold winter of the Pacific North West.

That was a good thing. She so didn’t want to see him naked. Ugh.

Then she heard it. A scraping sound right outside the door. She listened intently, her whole body rigid with terror. Though muffled by the snow, she could hear heavy footsteps.

Oh God, it was the gun toting neighbor who didn’t like people. He had come to murder them in their beds. She wanted to scream for Michael but was too scared. She didn’t want the murderer to know that she was right there, on the other side of the door.

She cast around the kitchen for a weapon and picked up a saucepan, it was small, but it was an old cast-iron type and pretty heavy. She gripped it like she might grip a baseball bat and very slowly, very quietly began to creep in the direction of the door leading to the hallway. She kept her eyes trained on the back door.

To her horror, she realized the door was unlocked. Goddamn Michael, the idiot hadn’t locked the door. If she survived this, she was going to kill him.

She took another step closer to her escape route but it also brought her nearer to the back door. At that exact moment it swung open. Acting completely on instinct, Maria raised her arms, rushed towards the door and brought the saucepan down swift and hard on the head of the intruder.

He crumbled to the ground, swearing and grunting. Maria raised her arm again and brought her weapon down a second time. This time hitting something considerably meatier than a head, a shoulder probably.

“Maria, stop.”

At the sound of Michael’s voice from the floor Maria froze, saucepan poised to come crashing down a third time.

“Michael?” She gasped in shock, looking down at him lying on the floor.

“Who did you think it was, Santa Claus?” he asked, bringing his hand to the spot on his head where she had whacked him. “Fuck,” he hissed.

“OhmyGod, OhmyGod,” Maria shrieked. She dropped the saucepan and knelt down onto her knees beside him. “I’m so sorry. Are you ok? I thought it was your crazy neighbor. I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

“No, I’m not ok. What did you hit me with? Help me up.”

Maria stood up and helped Michael climb unsteadily to his feet. She kicked the back door closed and led him into the living room and helped him sit on the chair by the fireplace. “I’m going to get the candle,” she told him. She hurried into the kitchen, grabbed the candle and rushed back again.

Michael was holding his head in his hands and groaning. When she put the candle down, he looked up at her and she was shocked at how pale he looked. “There’s more candles in the chest,” he said to her, indicating the chest in the corner of the room. Maria hurried over, grabbed a few candles out of it and lit them, placing them around the room.

“Let me see,” she commanded when there was enough light. She took his head gently in her hands and turned it so that the light of the candle on the mantelpiece could illuminate it. There was no blood thankfully, but there was already a large bump forming. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“You should be.”

“What the hell were you doing outside at one o’clock in the morning anyway? I thought you were in bed. How was I supposed to know it was you skulking outside?”

Michael pulled away from her. “I was not skulking. I went down to bring back your bags.”

“At this hour of the night? Are you crazy?” Maria asked incredulously. She went to the door of the kitchen and looked in, but couldn’t see her bags. “Where are they? Did you leave them outside? They’ll be all wet.” She ran to the door and pulled it open. Sure enough her two Louis Vuitton bags were sitting on the snow covered doorstep. She picked them up, locked the back door, and brought the bags in to sit them close to the fire to dry out. “They might be ruined.”

“I’m sooo sorry,” Michael snarled. He winced and held his head again. “Jesus, what did you hit me with?”

“A saucepan,” Maria told him flippantly, feeling better about it now that she knew he might have ruined her clothes. She checked her bags and decided that they weren’t too badly damaged. She looked at Michael and relented. “How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy.”

“Shit, do you think you might have concussion? Quick, what’s today’s date?”

“I don’t know. Is it the twenty somethingth? I don’t keep track of the dates.”

Maria bit her lip in concern. What if she had really hurt him? “Maybe I should call Liz.”

“The phones are out. So is the electricity,” Michael informed her. He stood up and swayed. “I’m going to go to bed.”

“I don’t think you should,” Maria argued, pushing him back down. He sat down without any resistance. “I’ve heard that you’re not supposed to let people with concussion go to sleep in case they can’t wake up.”

“I don’t have concussion, I just have a really sore head.”

“What date is Liz’s birthday?”

“I don’t know, three days after my Mom calls to remind me to get her something.”

“See,” Maria said triumphantly.

Michael shook his head. “What?”

“You can’t answer my questions. That’s a sign of concussion. You can’t go to bed. You’re going to stay up and I’ll stay with you to keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t think so,” Michael laughed. He stood up again and his vision swam. “Fuck. Ok, I’ll just stay here for a minute.”

Maria knelt down and untied his boots and pulled them off his feet, wrinkling her nose in an exaggerated fashion. Then she helped him out of his jacket and placed them by the door. “Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine. Can you get the fire going again? I’m a little cold.”

Maria, with Michael issuing instructions, managed to get the fire blazing and before long the room was warm and cheerful.

“It’s a good thing we have the fire,” she commented, thinking of how cold the cabin would get without the heating.

“The fire here and the range in the kitchen heats the place. We can manage fine without electricity,” Michael assured her. “It heats the house and the water, and we can cook on it. What more do you need?”

A lot, Maria would have said, but actually it wasn’t so bad for the time being. She was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace but it was uncomfortable. “Hey, where’s the rug I bought. It used to be here.”

“I kept tripping over it so I put it in the closet in the hall.”

Maria glared at him and went to find the rug. It was a real sheepskin rug that she had bought while she was touring in Australia a couple of years earlier. She had given it to Liz who had gushed about it and declared it was perfect for the cabin.

She rolled it out in front of the fire and sat upon it. It was so soft and comfortable. “This is really cosy,” she sighed.

“Mmm,” Michael agreed sleepily. Maria whacked his leg and his eyes shot open. “What the hell? Haven’t you done enough damage to me tonight?”

“Never,” Maria grinned. “Don’t fall asleep, it’s dangerous. You might die. What were you doing out there at this time anyway?”

“I love going out when it’s like this. The world is so quiet and peaceful. I just felt like a walk and then when I was down at the jetty I remembered your bags and I figured I’d bring them up to you. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Maria said grudgingly. “Although it was a waste of time, I’ll be going back on the ferry tomorrow.”

“You are so ungrateful.”

“I didn’t ask you to go down and get them.”

“Yes you did.”

“Whatever,” Maria huffed and tuned her attention back to the fire.

“If you’re going back to the mainland, does that mean you won’t be spending Christmas here with Liz, Max and I?” Michael asked after they had been silent for a few minutes.

Maria shrugged her shoulders.

“What about Billy Bob? Will he be joining us?” Michael asked, not disguising his dislike of Maria’s boyfriend.

“No,” Maria stated emphatically.

“Did he finally wise up and dump you?” Michael gloated.

I dumped him actually,” Maria corrected. “Bastard.”

Michael wasn’t sure if she was referring to him or Billy Bob.

“What’s your book about?” She asked in a very transparent attempt to change the subject.

Normally Michael didn’t like to talk about what he was working on but, maybe because of the bump on his head, he answered her. “It’s about a day in the life of a ten year old boy. He’s in a bad foster home and sees no way out of his situation. But it’s more of a treatment on loneliness and alienation than a straight narrative. It’s kind of autobiographical too.”

Then he seemed to realize that he had said much more than he wanted to and shifted uncomfortably. Sensing this, Maria didn’t probe further.

“Don’t you ever write anything that people will actually read?” she asked.

Michael’s books, though critically acclaimed and prize winning, weren’t best sellers. He sold enough to be able to make a living at it, which was more than enough for him. Maria had read his two previous books. And although she was able to appreciate that he was a good writer, they weren’t light reading material.

“At least I’m not a sell out,” he retorted.

Maria didn’t react to his barb in the way he had expected. She just gazed at the fire sadly. “Yeah,” she agreed softly.

He immediately felt guilty. “Maria…”

“No, I know what I am. I write stupid pop songs and make stupid videos. I’m a complete sell out.”

“You don’t have to be,” Michael told her. “I remember the songs you used to write before you got a record contract. They were so good. Why don’t you make those kinds of songs anymore?”

Maria shrugged. It was the shrug of somebody who knew the answer but didn’t want to give it.

Michael persisted. “There was one song, on your last album, So long, that song was amazing. It was just you and your guitar, none of those annoying pop sounds. Why don’t you make more songs like that?”

“I hate that song,” Maria said angrily.

“What, why?” Michael was shocked, he thought it was by far her best song. He knew it was one of her most successful. She had won a handful of Grammys for it.

Maria rolled her eyes. “I never meant for anybody to hear that song. It was really personal to me. It’s about my father. He came looking for me after my first album was a hit. I told him to take a hike and then I wrote that song. It was kind of therapy for me, putting all my feelings about him into song. Then my producer heard it and forced me to put it on the album. Next thing you know, the whole world is singing my deepest, most painful moments. It’s on every radio show, every stupid TV show. Every country star and opera star and crappy boyband on the planet has covered it. They’ve taken it and played it to death and I never want to hear it or sing it again.”

“Oh.” Michael listened mostly to metal stations so he hadn’t been subjected to its massive overplaying like everybody else on the planet. “But it was a good song. That’s the type of song you used to write, why did you change?”

Maria sighed. “They made me. They gave me a recording contract and I was so excited and happy and then they told me that I had to change everything. They brought Billy in to help me make my songs into pop songs and got hot choreographers and directors to make me a pop star and put me in slutty outfits. I was so swept away by everything that I didn’t have the guts to say no. And now I have fans and all these other people who depend on me to deliver the same thing over and over again.”

“But wasn’t that song your biggest hit, ever? Your fans must have loved it. The record company can’t deny that it didn’t make them lots of money. There’s no reason why you can’t write more like it… Unless you’re afraid to,” he guessed.

“Maybe I am.”

Inspired by her honesty, he opened up. “I can understand that. When I write, I put myself into those words. The things the characters think and feel are what I’ve felt and thought. I put myself out there just like you did in that song.”

“The only difference is that nobody reads your books,” Maria reminded him with an affectionate smile.

He laughed softly, “True.”

Maria’s expression sobered again. “I tried to talk about this with Billy but he didn’t want to hear it.”

“Because if you write the songs you want to write then you won’t need him to add the pop beats. That was all him wasn’t it?”

She nodded. “Yeah. But it wasn’t like I was going to cut him out completely. He was my friend and my boyfriend and my songwriting partner for years. He’s amazing on the guitar and he has a great voice. And he’s a good producer too. I would have wanted to work with him.”

“Is that why you broke up?”

“Sort of,” Maria said sadly. “I had tried talking to him about it a few times. I thought if he supported me it would be easier to go to the record company and get them to allow me to make the album I want to make. But like I said, he wouldn’t even talk about it with me. We were having dinner and he had just shut me down completely and wouldn’t discuss the matter at all. I started thinking, is this what our relationship is always going to be like? Then it hit me, the thought of being in a relationship with him for the rest of my life made me nauseous. I broke up with him right then even though it was only a few days before Christmas. I couldn’t spend Christmas with him. I couldn’t go to Hawaii with him. But I thought we would stay friends. I thought that if nothing else, the money he made by being my writing partner would be enough for him to make sure that our friendship survived.”

“He didn’t take it well?” Michael concluded.

Maria shook her head and pulled up the sleeve of the sweater she was wearing to reveal large purple bruises on her forearm. “He did this to me. Kyle was home and heard him screaming and kicked him out.”

Michael held her arm gently and examined it in the firelight. “I hope Kyle kicked his ass. Does it hurt?”

“My wrist is a little sore.” She pouted then, “Having to carry my bags the whole way up here yesterday didn’t help.”

“Please, what was in that bag? Panties and bras and other frilly things?”

“Actually, yes. My assistant packed it, thinking it was for a romantic holiday in Hawaii and then with everything else that happened we forgot to repack.”

“What else happened?”

“He went to the press and told them that he dumped me. And oh yeah, apparently he filmed us having sex and is now trying to sell it to the highest bidder. Happy Christmas Maria,” She said bitterly. “It could be all over the internet right now for all I know.”

And that explained why she had come to the island, Michael realized.

“So everybody gets to see your bony ass but me. That’s hardly fair. I think you should give me a viewing.”

Maria laughed in outrage. “In your dreams, you jerk.”

He gestured to his head. “You owe me.”

“I’m staying up to nurse you, aren’t I?”

“What about cleaning up your mess in the kitchen? Or bringing up your bags? And that’s my sweater you’re wearing.”

“You must really have concussion if you think any of those things would make me flash you,” Maria told him with a smile.

He grinned at her cheekily and then yawned. Seconds later, she yawned too.

“Can I go to bed now?” He asked. “I feel fine,” he added to pre-empt her next question.

Maria smothered another yawn. “Ok, I’m too tired to care if you die in your sleep.”

“Charming,” Michael said with a smile. He rose from his seat and helped Maria up from the sheepskin rug.

They took a candle each and blew the remainder out.

“Sweet dreams,” she said to him as they parted at the bottom of the stairs. “Try not to die, it would totally ruin Liz’s Christmas.”

***

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch four 17/12
PostPosted: Wed Dec 17, 2008 7:12 pm 
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I'm really loving this fic. Maria's acting quite difficult, but at least they are both trying to be amicable. Can't wait to see what happens next and if Max and Liz make it out to the islan for Christmas


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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch four 17/12
PostPosted: Thu Dec 18, 2008 6:45 am 
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I am loving this so hard, BB! I can't wait for the next part! Honestly, I really can't!
So get back here! I'm dying for the smoochy smoochy bits, but I am loving their sexual tension.
Great part!

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch four 17/12
PostPosted: Thu Dec 18, 2008 8:57 am 
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I really love the way Michael and Maria's relationship is in this fic. Wonderful part. I too can't wait for the smoochy smoochy.

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch five 18/12
PostPosted: Thu Dec 18, 2008 5:15 pm 
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Thanks Cassie, Alison, Neve.

Four

Maria woke in the morning and stretched out in her bed. It was nice to be able to just lie there and not have to worry about the hundred different things she usually had to do everyday.

She was catching the ferry back to the mainland today but she could take it easy before then. It would be nice to be able to walk around and not be bothered by anybody or anything. So, intending on making the most of the day, she threw back the covers.

And shrieked.

Forgot what she had said about the cabin being pleasant. It was beyond cold.

She jumped up, pulled on Michael’s sweater and hurried downstairs, hoping that Michael had the fire going.

It was warm downstairs. The fire had died out, though there was some residual heat coming from the fireplace. The candles they had used the night before still lay around and the curtains were still drawn closed. No sign of life from Michael, it wasn’t like him. Maria frowned in concern. What if Michael had a serious head injury and was unconscious in his bed?

She rushed to the door of his room and listened, but could hear nothing. She tapped gently on the wooden surface but there was no answer. So she opened the door and peered inside. Even though the curtains were pulled, the room was bright because of the radiant snow outside.

Michael was lying on his stomach with most of his covers kicked off. He was wearing a pair of sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt, Maria noticed. He gave a gentle snore and burrowed further into his pillow.

Not dead at least.

Maria watched him sleep for a minute. He was quiet handsome, in a scruffy kind of way, if you were into that. Which she wasn’t.

“Are you checking out my ass?” Came his sleepy voice, jolting Maria from her inspection of his body.

“As if. I’m just checking to make sure that you didn’t die in your sleep. But no such luck, I see.”

He shifted his position so he could face her. “No, despite your best efforts I’m still alive.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “In that case you can tell me why my bedroom is like an icebox and yours is toasty and warm?”

Michael rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Shit, when the power is off the heating doesn’t work upstairs. There’s no hot water up there either. I forgot about that. Sorry.”

He sounded genuinely apologetic so Maria let it slide.

“You can use the bathroom in the other room,” he told her in an attempt to get rid of her. He had woken with a hard on and Maria’s presence wasn’t helping. For some reason the fact that she was wearing his sweater was even more of a turn on than when she had been sashaying around in the sexy underwear he knew she had on beneath it.

She gave him a smile and vanished from the doorway. He could hear her enter the other bedroom. Originally it belonged to Grandma Claudia and it was kept now as a guest room, though both Liz and Michael were reluctant to use it unless it was absolutely necessary.

He rose from the bed, took care of business in his own closest sized bathroom and made his way to the living room. He got the fires going in the living room and in the kitchen range and put the kettle on to boil. As he was tidying up the candle stubs, Maria entered the room looking fresh and pink after her shower.

“I’m hungry,” she announced. “What have you got for breakfast?”

Michael grabbed her before she could go any further. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Into the kitchen.”

“No,” he pushed her to sit on the armchair by the fire. “You are not allowed into the kitchen. Its forbidden territory. If you want something to eat, then you ask me and I’ll get it for you.” Maria’s eyes gleamed and Michael realized what he had just said. “No, wait - you’re not allowed into the kitchen. If I’m getting something to eat, I’ll make something for you, if you ask nicely.”

Maria shrugged, she liked the sound of him cooking for her. “Fine, if that’s how you want it. Can we have pancakes? I love your pancakes.”

Michael had been intending to make pancakes. “No. I’m making scrambled eggs and toast.”

Maria followed him into the kitchen. “Do you realize that we had an entire conversation last night without it ending in a fight?” she commented.

“Nobody’s going to believe it,” Michael laughed. “Especially when they see the bruises you inflicted on me.” He lowered his head so she could see the lump that had formed on his head.

She touched it gently and bit her lip in guilty surprise. “It’s huge.”

“That’s what all the girls say,” Michael smiled smugly.

“They’re talking about your head.”

“Get out of my kitchen.”

***


After clearing up after breakfast, Michael settled down at his desk with the intention of doing some writing. Maria was given strict instructions to be quiet, silent and not say a word. She had rolled her eyes and told him she was going for a walk, but came rushing back inside after a mere three minutes declaring it was too cold outside.

“The boat back to the mainland is going to be hell,” she said, shuddering at the thought.

Michael shot her a look.

“Ok, sorry. I’ll be quiet and just sit here at the fire and try to thaw out.”

She sat still for a whole five minutes before she was up again. She ignored Michael’s glare and retrieved her guitar from its place by the door.

Her case was expensive and new, but the guitar she lifted out of it was battered and old. Michael recognized it at once. “That’s Alex’s?”

“Yeah, this comes with me everywhere.”

They were both silent as they remembered their old friend. Alex had been one of their group until he had committed suicide in their senior year of high school. His death has been the hardest time they had ever experienced. It was also the only time that Michael and Maria had been nice to each other.

Maria had been at the Parker’s the night they got the news of Alex’s death. They had all been distraught. Michael had driven Maria home but when they arrived at her house, it had been in darkness. Not wanting her to be alone, he had gone inside with her and they had found a message on the answering machine from Amy Deluca whose car had broken down in Santa Fe and wouldn’t be back until the next day. Michael had stayed with her during the night. They had sat on the couch crying and talking and holding each other until Maria had fallen asleep in his arms. Michael had carried her into her bed and laid her down gently. She had woken up then. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, then Michael had leaned down and captured her lips with his own. Their kiss was soft and gentle. Then he had pulled away from her and said goodnight. The next morning Amy had arrived home to comfort her daughter. They hadn’t seen each other again until the funeral where they acted as if nothing had happened. They simply went back to hating each other.

Though neither of them knew it, deep down, that kiss was the yardstick by which they both compared all other kisses since.

Maria’s eyes met Michael’s across the room and she flushed, remembering that kiss. He ducked his head and resumed his work. Maria began to strum on her guitar, very low and gentle.

They worked for over an hour, Michael working on his final chapter and Maria working out the notes of the song she was writing. Every so often, Michael would stop writing and watch Maria. Occasionally she would sing a line and then write it down in her notebook.

She glanced up and caught him watching her. “Am I being too noisy?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I like the song. Just don’t let Billy Bad or anybody else ruin it.”

Maria smiled at him. “I won’t.”

Then the phone rang.

“I thought that was out,” Maria said as Michael crossed over to pick it up.

He shrugged. “Hello…Hi Liz… thank you for my early Christmas present. I ask for peace and quiet and you send me the most annoying person on the planet as a room mate… Do you know that she attacked me with a saucepan last night and then left me alone to die in bed?”

“Let me talk to her,” Maria insisted, trying to wrestle it out of his grasp. He grabbed her hand and held her in place against his body so she couldn’t move. So she kicked him and he dropped the phone.

Maria seized it. “Hi Liz… I’m going to get the ferry back today…Oh…ok. I guess I’ll stay here so. Can you bring me some warm clothes please? My bags are packed for Hawaii and I’m freezing…hello, hello, Liz?” She looked at the receiver. “It’s gone dead.”

“That happens sometimes. What’s this about you staying here?”

“Oh, Liz and Max are definitely going to come out here tomorrow to spend Christmas here and she really wants me to spend Christmas with them so there’s no point in me going back today and then coming out here again tomorrow. So I’m going to stay here.”

“Great,” Michael huffed.

Maria ignored him and looked around the cabin. “We’re going to have to do something about this place. Have you any decorations? We can’t have Christmas on Christmas Island and not have decorations. And we need a tree. Where will we get a tree?”

Michael turned his head slowly towards the window and looked pointedly at the wood, full of potential Christmas trees right outside.

“Oh, right,” Maria blushed. “Ok great. So lunch first I think and then you can go get a tree and I’ll decorate.” She sat down on the couch and pointed to the kitchen. “Get to work kitchen boy.”

***


“I still don’t get why I had to come,” Maria complained as she trudged through the snow. Michael had insisted that she come with him despite her pleading, pouting and adamant refusal. He had told her that if she didn’t come there would be no tree so reluctantly she had pulled on fifteen layers of clothes and followed him out. “It’s so cold.”

Michael ignored her and pointed his axe at a tree. “That one.”

Maria wrinkled her nose. “It’s kind of small.”

“You’re going to have to help carry this back to the cabin.”

“It’s perfect,” Maria reconsidered.

“Ok, stand back,” Michael ordered. He waited until she had taken a few steps back and began to swing the axe at the tree.

Maria watched him for a minute before taking in their surroundings. He had brought them to a spot in the wood close to a running stream. There was a blanket of deep, pure, untouched snow all around. It looked like something from a Christmas card. Despite the cold, Maria was delighted she had come with him.

“It’s really pretty here,” she admitted.

Michael paused in the act of chopping down the tree. “Yeah.” He admired her jean clad butt as she stood on top of a mound, watching the stream rush past. “Don’t get too close to the river, the bank can be deceptive in the snow.”

As it turned out, the mound she was standing on was actually a fallen tree log, precariously balanced on a tree stump. Just as Michael’s warning left his lips, Maria took a step onto what looked like solid ground. It turned out to be snow covered branches hanging over the river bank.

With a scream of terror, she went plummeting into the icy cold water.

***

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch five 18/12
PostPosted: Thu Dec 18, 2008 6:37 pm 
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Fantastic! Can't wait to see if Michael rescues her. I'm really enjoying this fic1


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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch five 18/12
PostPosted: Thu Dec 18, 2008 8:11 pm 
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Aargh! I'm sensing a chivalrous rescue and some rescuee gratitude and maybe a little more smoochy smoochy... But they never took the easy way out so maybe I'm way off.
Great part! I'm really loving these regular updates too.

Alison


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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch five 18/12
PostPosted: Thu Dec 18, 2008 10:46 pm 
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Location: Lost on a tropical island some where with Tess....so no rescue needed
All I can say is that I know just how cold that water is.Every year on Jan 1,I am one of those Polar Bear people....my sister calls us 'stupid people' who jump into the nearby river.So trust me when I tell you that water is damn cold
:jawdrop

Great update by the way.


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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch five 18/12
PostPosted: Fri Dec 19, 2008 10:50 am 
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This just keeps getting better and better, looks like Maria will need not only Michael to rescue her but also his body heat. :love

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch six 19/12
PostPosted: Fri Dec 19, 2008 2:52 pm 
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Thank you my lovelies.

FIVE

“MARIA.”

Michael had dropped the axe and jumped into the river before he even thought about it. Fortunately it wasn’t much deeper than his knees. Maria had been completely submerged when she fell into the water but had managed to grab hold of a root and haul herself above the waters surface. She was scrambling to pull herself out of the stream, coughing and spluttering and gasping for breath.

Michael grabbed her arms and lifted her onto the snowy bank and jumped up beside her.

She immediately burst into tears. Her whole body was trembling violently with the cold, her teeth were chattering loudly and she skin was blue.

Michael gripped her arms and shook her a little. “Maria, look at me. Are you ok? Come on, you have to get warm. Take off your jacket.” He ran to where he had discarded to his own when he had started chopping down the tree and brought it back to her.

“I c…c…can’t,” Maria stammered, holding her hands out helplessly. She was too cold to be able to undo the zips.

Michael brushed her hands out of the way and undid her jacket and tossed it on the ground, then he wrapped his own around her. “Get up off the ground.” He hauled her up onto her feet but she could barely stand so he put his arm around her and supported her. “Maria, we’ve got to get back to the cabin as quick as we can. If we keep moving, you’ll be ok. C’mon.”

Half carrying, half dragging her Michael set off at a rapid pace with Maria stumbling along at his side. At first she was able to keep up with his steady pace but as they left the wood and approached the cabin, she stumbled more and more. She stopped crying and was silent. Michael realized that she was going into shock. Terrified of what could happen, he picked her up in a fireman’s lift and ran with a speed and strength he never knew he possessed. Maria didn’t even protest at her undignified position or the uncomfortable ride.


Michael burst through the door and raced into the bathroom off Grandma Claudia’s room. It was the only bathroom in the house with a bath and he figured that might be better for Maria than a shower. He deposits her on the toilet and starts the bath. “Get undressed, I’ll be back in a minute,” he tells her as the bath starts to fill with steaming hot water.

He rushed to the kitchen and found the bottle of whiskey that Sam had left the previous day and two glasses.

When he got back to the bathroom, Maria was still sitting on the toilet, fumbling with his jacket. He poured them both a glass of whiskey and held Maria’s to her mouth so she would swallow it. She drank it down in one gulp. He quickly threw back his own drink and it warmed his insides up instantaneously. For the first time since he plunged into the river to save Maria, he realized that he is very cold and wet himself. He ignored his own shivering for a while and began to undress Maria. She was a little responsive at first, but as the whiskey and the steam warmed her up, she began to help. When she was down to her last t-shirt, socks and underwear, Michael scooped her up and lowered her into the old antique bath.

She moaned in relief at the sensation of the hot water all around her.

Michael pulled off his own wet clothes and boots and heaped them on the bathroom floor. He was down to his boxers and wife-beater.

“Take off the t-shirt,” he instructed as he pulled her feet out of the water so he could peel her socks off. Maria managed to pull the t-shirt off and let it fall to the floor. She was still shaking with the cold and Michael was still really worried. One of the other resident’s on the island was a retired doctor and he debated going to get him but he didn’t want to leave Maria alone either.

He knelt down on the hard floor and began to rub Maria’s arms and her back. His large hands were gentle but firm, rubbing her skin to get the circulation moving in her body again. The color returned to her skin and she stopped shivering.

Slowly he became aware that Maria was practically naked, her underwear was wet and see through and that he had his hands all over her body.

“Michael,” she said suddenly, sounding husky but more like herself.

He looked into her face and felt all the breath leave his body. She was looking directly at him, her eyes darkened with desire. She licked her lips and unconsciously, Michael mirrored her action.

Her hands snaked around his neck and pulled him closer, his hand slid around her back, pulling her towards him. He cupped her face with his other hand and tilted her face so that he could kiss her.

It was a scorching kiss, probing and lingering. They tasted each other and reveled in the sensation. Maria moaned in Michael’s mouth as his tongue swept into hers. Her hands clutched him tighter, pulling him closer to her. He went willingly, slipping into the bath on top of her without ever breaking the kiss.

As their kiss grew more urgent and intense, their hands began to roam across the other’s body. Michael unsnapped Maria’s bra and pulled it off her, his hands then slid down to her butt and began to push her panties down. He was forced to pull away briefly as Maria caught the hem of his wife-beater and yanked it off over his head. As soon as he was clear of it, he recaptured her lips and returned to ridding her of her panties. But it was too awkward to do it in the confined space of the bath tub, so he ripped them off. Maria moaned in delight. Now that she was completely naked he let his hands roam freely, enjoying the softness of her skin, the pertness of her breasts, the swell of her ass, the way she moaned at his touch.

Maria was desperately trying to divest Michael of his boxers but his roaming hands kept getting in the way, so she slithered beneath him, tearing her mouth away from his. He grunted in protest but quickly latched onto her neck, the way she was wriggling beneath him was making him dizzy as all the blood left his head and travelled south.

She managed to push the boxers down over his hips and then worked them further down her legs with her knees. As she was doing that, she sucked on his neck, running her tongue over his skin.

Finally Michael realized what she was trying to do and kicked off the boxers and a great deal of water onto the bathroom floor. He ran his hands over her breasts, squeezing the gently. She arched up into him, thrusting her pelvis against his. Maria grabbed his ass and pulled her to him. He gripped her hip and entered her, pushing into her as far as he could go. They both cried out in pleasure and began to rock in a slow steady pace. Michael found her lips again and began to kiss her, his tongue mimicking the actions of his body. Maria wrapped one leg around him and dug her heal into his bag to urge him deeper and faster. She braced her other foot against the side of the bath for leverage.

As their movement sped up and Michael began to pump into her, Maria raised her hands over her head and grabbed the top of the bath. Their movements became wilder and faster, water sloshed violently in the bath and cascaded onto the tiled floor.

Breathless from their exertions, they tore their lips away from each other and sucked in deep breaths of air.

Panting and moaning they kept up their fast and furious rhythm. Michael grabbed Maria’s leg and hiked it up onto his hip so he could drive into her faster and harder. He could feel his orgasm about to explode and he sped up, faster and harder until she was right there with him.

They came together, crying each others name as seismic waves of pleasure coursed through their bodies. They rocked together slowly, riding out their climax until they came to rest, panting against each other.

After a moment, Michael eased out of her and shifted in the bath so that he was no longer lying on top of her. “Wow.”

“Wow,” Maria laughed in agreement. “That was… unexpected.”

“Yeah, but good. I –” Michael was cut off by the sound of a loud knock on the front door. “Shit, who the fuck is that?”

They heard the door open and a man with a German accent shout. “Michael, you here?”

“Be with you in a minute,” Michael called back. He pulled away from Maria reluctantly and climbed out of the bath. “It’s one of the neighbors. I’ll be just a minute.”

“Ok, but hurry back,” Maria said with a seductive smile.

He resisted the urge to climb back into the bath and take her again and dragged himself out of the room.

Maria smiled again and turned the faucet to fill the bath to replace the water they had caused to spill on the floor. There were a couple of bottles of bubble bath in easy reach and she poured a liberal amount of one into the water. She lay back and relaxed as the bath filled with bubbles.

Michael came back in a minute later. He was wearing a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt which he had pulled on backwards. “That was Stefan, he was walking in the woods and figured out that somebody had fallen into the water. He came down to see if you’re ok.”

“I’m more than ok, but I’m feeling a little lonely in here.”

“He offered to go and ask Roberts to come down here. Roberts used to be a doctor.”

“I’m fine, really,” Maria assured him.

“I know, but I’d feel better if Roberts checked you out. Stefan is gone to get him. They should be here in about twenty minutes.”

Maria pouted but accepted it was a good idea. “Fine, I’ll just wash my hair and then I’ll get out.”

She was dressed in a pair of shorts and Michael’s sweater again, blow drying her hair when Roberts arrived. He was in his sixties, and reminded Maria a little of Santa Claus. He checked her out and was satisfied that she was fine. They made their way into the living room together.

To Maria’s surprise there were two other strange men in the living room, wrapping a string of fairy lights around a Christmas tree.

“Oh my God, it’s beautiful,” she exclaimed happily.

“You must be Maria,” one of the men said, stepping forward to shake her hand. “I’m Stefan and this is my husband Joe. We heard you decided to go swimming. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, thank you. And thanks for fetching Dr. Roberts for me.”

Michael entered from the kitchen and smiled at her. “Stefan and Joe went back and brought down the tree and your jacket. I invited them to stay for dinner. You’ll stay too Doc? It’s just chilli.”

“Sounds great,” the doctor agreed.

Dinner was great fun. Stefan, Joe and Doc were jovial and fun, though all slightly odd in their own way. They told funny stories about island life and were interested in hearing about Maria’s life though none of them had ever heard of her. She found it quiet refreshing actually. After dinner, they asked her to play a couple of Christmas songs on her guitar. Joe found the decorations for the tree and dressed it. They sat around the fire, with the fairy lights twinkling and talked. It was pretty much the perfect kind of evening.

And it took every ounce of self restraint Michael possessed not to kick his neighbors out into the snow. Maria kept shooting him heated looks that were full of promise. As they ate, she had rubbed her foot up and down his leg, driving him crazy and when she had cleared the table, she had brushed against his body, pinching his butt and slipping her hand under his t-shirt to run her hand over his bare skin.

He could only hope that she was as turned on as he was.

It really wasn’t late when the visitors decided to head home but to Michael it felt like they had stayed an hour. He walked them to the door where they stood and discussed the weather. They were all in agreement that there would be a storm within the next twenty-four hours and that there was a good chance that there would be no ferry the next day.

Michael watched them disappear into the darkness and took a deep breath of the cold air. He was nervous about going back inside to face Maria. She seemed to be on the same page as he was but what if he was completely misreading her signals? And if not, if she wanted to continue where they left off when Stefan interrupted them, what did that mean?

He released his breath and went back inside.

***

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 Post subject: Re: Roswell fic: Christmas Island (Mature, MM) ch five 19/12
PostPosted: Sat Dec 20, 2008 8:39 am 
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What do you know? I predicted something right for a change! Yay for the smoochy smoochy! They certainly don't do things by halves :blush
Hot!
I just hope they don't take a giant leap backwards, but judging by Maria's constant teasing I have hope that they won't.
Great part!


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