Rating: PG-13
Category: Michael/Liz
Summary: Liz and Michael develop a friendship...which leads to something more.
I can trace it back to one moment. Sure, it all ended with newfound feelings, and secrecy, and lies. And consequences. But I can remember with amazing clarity how it all began.
Fire. He put his hand on my shoulder, and for a split second I felt like I was on fire. No, that isn't right. I felt like I was fire. Like all this burning, crackling energy I felt from his touch had seeped into my bones, and was now racing through my veins with this frantic intensity. Then his hand pulled away from my shoulder, leaving it bare but for the strap of my tank top, and a faint glow of silver. I turned to face him, and before I knew it, our lips were touching.
I feel the need to point out right now that this didn't come out of nowhere. It was merely the turning point of a relationship no one knew had existed, that had started out innocent and grew to so much more. You're confused, I'll explain. Just give me a moment to gather my thoughts.
Okay. Are you ready? Then allow me to begin...
***
It was easily one of the busiest nights in the Crashdown's history. There was a grand opening of a new mini-mall on our street, and of course we were the only restaurant open. Things just always seem to turn out that way, don't they? So we were busting our asses trying to feed about half the town all at once. Just Michael, Agnes and I, and a new girl, Claudia, who I was attempting to train. It wasn't pretty, and we ended up serving customers until eleven o'clock that night. I was cleaning up the tables as Michael finished up in the kitchen. Doris and Claudia had already skipped out, Doris pleading exhaustion and Claudia claiming curfew. And Mom and Dad were vacationing in Texas for the week, so we were alone.
"Need any help?" Michael asked as he walked out of the kitchen.
"Um..." I looked around. The restaurant looked like it had been ravaged by Hurricane Roswell. "Actually yeah, thanks." I handed him a dish towel. "Start cleaning off those tables over there."
"Alright." He looked a bit reluctant. I couldn't blame him, I was ready for some sleep myself. He did it though, without any complaint. Michael Guerin, always full of surprises.
Half an hour later, we were finished. I thanked him for his help, and said goodbye as he headed for the door. Then I sat down at one of booths and put my head down.
I heard his footsteps pause for a moment, and I could almost hear his mental struggle. Should I talk to her? Do I actually care if anything's wrong? Evidently he did because I heard him walk slowly in my direction. He slid into the seat across from me.
"Liz?" his voice was hesitant as I looked up. "Are you alright?"
I smiled lightly at his reluctant concern. "I'm just tired, that's all."
I felt him rise from the seat, then sit back down again. "Have you talked to Maria lately?"
Ah, an ulterior motive. That's the Michael I know and tolerate. "Yeah, yesterday."
"Oh..." he trailed off. "Okay then. See ya later." He moved to stand.
"Michael, if you want to know something, just ask me," I told him with a slight grin.
He plopped back down. "What is up with her? First she wouldn't stay away from me when I wanted her to, and now that I'm starting to get the destiny thing figured out, she wants nothing to do with me." His face registered confusion, an emotion I wasn't aware he knew existed. For a moment, he looked like an ordinary teenage boy with girl problems. It was unsettling.
"Michael, the thing with Maria is..." I struggled for the right words. Hey, Maria and I were best friends, but that didn't mean I understood her all that well. "She's - complicated. Maria can shift from one mood to another at the drop of a hat. She wants a perfect storybook life, but she also wants drama, and you can't have drama without conflict, so her life ends up not being perfect. It's like this never-ending quest for her. And I think in your case, she wants you to be perfect but also enjoys the dramatic aspect of your relationship."
"And that means..." Michael said, seeming hopeful that now that I'd isolated the problem, I also had the solution.
I didn't. "That means that if you want Maria in your life you're going to have to give her stability and excitement. Sometimes at the same time."
"How do I do that?" he asked me. I gave him a Look. "I have no idea. I'm not exactly the authority in healthy relationships. Now if you want to know all 103 elements of the periodic table..."
His eyes flashed as he debated whether or not to continue the conversation or take the information and run with it. Politeness won out, and he asked how things were going with Max and I.
"We're doing okay, I guess. Ignoring destiny, trying to be normal teenagers."
Michael sort of squinted at my unenthusiastic generalizations and I suddenly itched to run my fingers through his hair. "You guess?"
His words pulled me from my distraction and I managed to answer him coherently. "Things are just ordinary. It's like we're stuck in this holding pattern, waiting for something to come and jar us awake. But on the bright side, I've kind of become friends with Tess."
He looked at me in fake disappointment. "No more catfighting huh?"
I recovered from the shock of hearing him make a sort-of joke enough to sardonically comment "Yeah I'm disappointed too."
We actually smiled at each other. It was very strange, but also very nice. Michael Guerin doesn't smile too often, but when he does it's like he's sharing a secret with you that he hasn't told anyone else. You feel special.
From then on we had an unspoken agreement. He would stay and help me clean up, and then we would sit in a booth and talk, sometimes about Max and Maria, sometimes about these insane things we had in common, like a mutual love the Pac-Man arcade game, sometimes about nothing at all. After about a month or so, I realized that Michael and I had become friends, and we were the only ones that knew about it. I never told Max or Maria about our late night conversations, and Michael never told anyone either. It was like our own separate world, those closing time chats. No matter how late it was, Michael always stuck around, even after my dad went up to bed and Maria went home. And no matter how tired I was, I would look forward to those few moments when I saw the real Michael, the human side of him he rarely showed anyone else. The side that liked old Godzilla movies and shared my love of sprinkled donuts. The side that confessed his fear of what he would do if he never returned to his home planet, and then his very human fear of graduating high school and moving on with his life if that didn't happen. Sometimes we talked for fifteen minutes, often even longer.
One night, after a particularly harrowing discussion of our relationship troubles, I stopped him on his way out. And I hugged him.
I know he was surprised. At first, he stiffened, then gradually relaxed as he realized I wasn't letting go. After a few moments, I felt him hugging me back. We held each other tightly for what felt like an eternity, but really could not have been more than ten seconds.
Finally I pulled back and looked him straight in the eye. "Thank you, Michael," I said, meaning it like I'd never meant anything before.
He gave me a sort of shy half smile, then walked out the door.
Had the night not been as perfectly clear as it was, I doubt I would have heard his reply. "No, thank you Liz." I heard him whisper as he walked away. I smiled and closed the door.
Things were different after that, more relaxed, like we had been friends all our lives. Like I felt with Maria, only different in a way I could barely describe, let alone understand.
Until the accident. Isabel had broken her wrist, so badly not even Max could heal it. The hospital visit was terrifying, and I had to donate my blood for Isabel's. It was just a lot to deal with, you know? It was the first time we had all been together since I walked away from Max, and it was strange. Plus there were eight of us now. The hospital room was crammed with Max, Michael, Tess, Maria, Alex, Kyle and I, all surrouding Isabel, who looked uncharacteristically vulnerable. Tempers started to fray, petty arguments started, and tension rose until Isabel yelled at us to shut up or get the hell out. Then her doctor came in and made us all leave except for Max. It was not the best of times.
Tess offered to drive Michael and I back to the Crashdown, so we could finish our shifts and close up for the night. She was headed in that direction anyway, and even offered to help us close. We politely refused her though, and she promised to call if anything changed with Isabel. Michael and I cleaned up in silence, finally heading for the booth to stare at each other, perhaps searching for the right words.
Michael was the first to break. "I don't want to talk about this."
"Okay," I said smoothly. "Well I do. Will you listen to me talk about it?"
He sighed. "Sure."
"I was scared, Michael. When I found out Isabel was hurt I was absolutely terrified. And not just for you and Max and your situation. She and I have become friends. I hated seeing her like that. She's supposed to be calm and collected, and it freaked me out to see her in a position where she couldn't be. Plus it was weird having us all together again. And I'm still not used to having Kyle be part of the group, even though he's only a peripheral. I think he has a crush on Isabel. He and Alex were at each other's throats the whole time. I'm worried about her. I hate knowing that there isn't anything I can do about this."
I paused, waiting for a reaction. "Michael?"
He exhaled slowly. "I was worried too."
His hands rested on the table, and I hesitantly placed one of mine over his clenched fists. "It'll be okay," I told him.
A ghost of a smile passed over his face. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?" He glanced at my arm, bandaged from where my blood had been extracted. "How's your arm?"
"It's still stings a little," I admitted. "I'll have to rebandage it."
I was surprised when he rose from the table. "Michael?"
He headed to the back of the restaurant. "Hold on..."
The look of puzzlement stayed on my face until he returned with the first aid kit. "Aaaah," I murmured as he pulled my arm toward him and gently removed the bandage. I winced a bit as he lightly pressed his thumb onto the wound. His hand wrapped around my arm and he pulled me closer to him, closing his eyes. I felt a sudden, burning electricity shoot through my nervous system, and then it was replaced by warm, drowsy feeling. What was he doing to me?
I sighed as he released his hold on me, then gasped as I saw the glowing silver thumbprint.
"How does it feel?" Michael asked me, looking unsure.
"It feels fine," I replied in wonder. "I didn't know you had healing abilities."
"Neither did I," he said, seeming vaguely surprised. "I mean I've healed myself before, but I've never tried it on anyone else..."
Something occured to me. "Michael...did you see anything?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "I saw you and Maria when you guys were younger. I saw you and Max in the desert. And I saw...me. I mean, I saw us sitting here, I think it was a couple weeks ago. And then Isabel in the hospital bed." He hesitated. "What about you? I know that you're sort of connected to all of us now..."
"Everything was kind of blurred and out of focus. I saw the desert and the pod chamber and the V constellation. Mostly I just-" I trailed off, unsure of how to continue.
Michael looked like he was about to either hug me or the shake the answers out of me. "What? You just what?"
"I felt things. It was like lightning at first, as if my veins were on fire - I mean good fire - then it was like those few moments before you go under anesthesia. Or a really warm bath or something. It made me feel sleepy." I squinted, trying to remember the feelings more clearly, but it was as if I was seeing things through a haze.
"Liz?" Michael asked, sounding concerned. "Are you gonna be okay?"
I shook my head rapidly, trying to clear out the cobwebs. "I think I just need some sleep, that's all." I stood up too quickly and wavered, grabbing onto the edge of the table to keep myself from falling.
Michael stood swiftly and wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me to the stairs. "Can you make it up okay?" he asked me, as his hand burned against my hip.
"Y-yeah, I'll be fine," I told him, grabbing the railing, and slowly making my way up. "Goodnight Michael. And - thank you."
"Goodnight Liz." His words trailed after me as I headed to my room, and I heard the door shut quietly. I stumbled to my room and closed the door, and saw my reflection staring back at me with a million different emotions, all occurring at once. I stepped closer to the mirror, and my eyes lit up with horror as I noticed the mark on my arm.
The small silver thumbprint was now a blazing silver-red, so bright I was surprised there weren't sparks shooting from it. I backed away, finally crashing down onto the bed. What had Michael Guerin done to me?
***
Alright, here we are, back where I started. The *moment* when everything came together and fell apart with dizzying swiftness...
I had avoided him for the entire day after. He kept shooting me curious little glances, focusing pointedly on the bandage on my arm covering the sparkling thumbprint, but every time he caught my eye I looked away. This whole situation was too weird for me to handle.
But the day flew by, of course, and pretty soon we were alone again, silently cleaning up, with him brooding and me managing to stay at least five feet away from him at all times.
Naturally it couldn't last. I was scrubbing the counter, wearing only a tank top and shorts in the summer heat, and I felt him approach. I turned around slowly, attempting to prolong the inevitable.
Suddenly we were face to face. I couldn't put it off any longer. We stood there without speaking for endless moments until he finally grasped my arm, and ever so delicately removed the bandage. He stared at the glowing mark in stunned fascination, and I swear it burned brighter under his intense stare. His eyes returned to mine for a split second, trying to read me no doubt, to discern my feelings on the matter. I gave him no indication of how I felt, and he returned his attention to the small reddish-silver circle, and beneath his heated gaze it began to glow golden, until it was so bright I had to look away.
I felt it in every part of my body, the golden heat sped through me so quickly I could barely grasp what was going on. I only knew that I wanted to feel that way forever, to never lose that rush of feeling that hit every nerve with startling ferocity, like the strongest, most addictive drug ever invented. It was like every good feeling all at once, like speeding down a hill in roller skates, like swimming in the ocean, like laying in the sun all day without getting sunburnt.
And still I turned away, afraid to feel this good, afraid to betray those closest to me, and afraid that I'd do it and never look back. Then I felt it. His hand rested gently on my shoulder, and it was everything I'd felt before, only intensified to a degree I couldn't even comprehend. I was just beginning to adjust to the constant headrush, when he pulled away, leaving a vague silver handprint on my shoulder.
The battle was lost.
I turned to him, our eyes locked, and moments later our lips followed. My hands tangled roughly in his hair, and tingling sensations ran from my fingertips through my entire body, awakening every cell, every nerve, every emotion I'd ever felt. Fire surged through me, and my breathing was so rapid I might have fainted were it not for the insistent pressure of his lips against mine. We were pressed to each other so tightly I thought he might absorb me, and I realized I didn't mind. His hands roamed over me, trailing liquid lava over my arms, my stomach, my hips. I dragged my fingers from his hair and pushed them insistantly underneath his shirt, needing to feel his skin, needing to steal his heat and make it my own, and by doing so possess some of the unreachable man in my arms. My eyes were closed, but I knew that if I were to open them the world would be searing golden red, as bright as the colors roaring behind my eyelids.
Then the images started. Oh, I had had flashes before, but these were different. They were me. Millions of images of me, interspersed with swirling skies and shooting stars. In that moment I realized something. I would never need to make an effort to possess Michael. He had given himself to me, without me even needing to ask. He was mine, heart, soul, and entirely human body.
We broke away at the same time, needing air and answers. I gasped from the loss of his lips and said the first thing that came to my mind.
"You make me forget how to breathe."
The air shimmered and sparked around us, and I could see that I was faintly luminescent from where his skin had touched mine.
His voice was beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. "Liz..." he rasped out, sounding like sandpaper and glass bells and deep, buried feelings. "You think of me..."
I knew then that he had received flashes as well, and that any doubt he had about my feelings for him was erased. The world was suddenly clear. I knew who I wanted, and he was standing right in front of me.
"Always," I whispered, and kissed him again, a light brush of my lips against his. Then he pulled me to him and held me so tight I could barely breathe. And it was joy and pain and beauty and tragedy all at the same time, but most of all it was Michael and I, and all these feelings like love only rich and intense and powerful. I redefined love in that moment, threw out the old definition I had clung to so desperately, and replaced it with this new, amazing feeling.
I felt it, and Michael felt it, and nothing else had to be said.
***
We eventually dealt with the consequences. I told Max, he told Maria. World War III began and ended in the space of a few minutes. Now it's years later, and nothing is the same. And I'm glad. I may not believe in destiny but I believe in fate.
I'm with Michael. Max is with Maria, despite the fact that they have zero in common. Yeah, it's kind of weird that we basically switched boyfriends. No, I don't really care. Everything is okay at home. Alex and Isabel are engaged, Kyle is with Tess, which is fitting because they were always sort of the outsiders of our little group, and everyone seems happy enough.
I guess things don't always turn out how you expect. And boy am I happy about that.
THE END