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Emadaps

wonder what Gabriel's last job was. so the bar is kind of his way of redeeming himself right? give the young girls a job, and a place to stay.

Exactly. Gabriel has seen too much. For him, it was either stay with the company and become a soulless agent, or quit and try to atone for his sins.

Luluzita - Stone won't play a huge part but she is still part of the circle of "friends" that Michael has.

Augustdestiny

great part. Can't wait to see how Michael reacts to Maria's anger.

Considering that Stone isn't a brainless bimbo but someone he values, likes and respects… he won't react good, not good at all.

Sarammlover

I like that Maria has a slight flare of jealousy....shows she is becoming attached to this Michael as well. And the fact that she is living at Michael's house, driving his car, being thrust into his world, makes it so Michael is becoming attached to her too!

Jealousy equals feelings. Feelings for this Michael, while in her head, in her soul, she is in love with HER Michael. This is really not an easy emotional situation that Maria is living right now.

Aussietasha77

I am liking Michael more and more as he begins to mellow.

It's a slow process but being around Maria is humanizing this Michael. He has already evolved from the guy he was at first. But it's a slow process.

Marsis

Poor Maria, the lines are blurring for her between the two Michaels. The pain of thinking of him kissing someone like he had always kissed her is awful.

This is going to cause a problem because yes, the lines are blurring for Maria, Michael can see that she is starting to confuse him with his double but the problem is that Maria is refusing to aknowledge that. Hence the problems coming up in the next parts.

Candysteffi - Both hearts starting to melt? Very slowly, then. Both are too stubborn to give up on what they believe, HER Michael for Maria, his freedom for Michael.

Madhaj01 - Yes, Stone is a friend. Not the kind of friend like Michael had with Max and Isabel, which was more the family kind of friend, but more the job kind of friends.

Part 24

Michael was humming to himself as he entered the house, locking the door behind him before dropping his keys and wallet on the counter. He was reaching for the refrigerator door when his eyes were drawn to the two key rings lying next to each other beside his wallet. That just looked a little too… domestic. He frowned and pushed Maria's keys further down the counter, making sure there was plenty of space between them. Feeling slightly better he retrieved a bottle of beer from the refrigerator and removed the cap, tossing it in the trash and taking a long drink. He didn't even have time to enjoy the flavor before the bane of his existence spoke from behind him and ruined the moment.

"Well, look who finally came home," Maria drawled, as she leaned in the doorway and watched him. "Hmmm, and you even showered this time. How considerate of you."

Michael could feel his temper responding to her taunting tone and he slowly turned to look at her. "What the fuck are you bitchin' about now?"

He had to ask? She was bitching because he was going around acting like a dumbass! Instead of helping her find out why she was here, or focusing on his alien side that he had ignored for so long, he was running around sleeping with any available uterus! Well, she wasn't gonna just stay around here and keep her mouth shut. She had a few home truths for him and for once he was damn well going to listen to her list them off. "Do you always go crawling back to her? You have a bad experience with a woman like you did a few weeks back, so you resort to having sex with women Stone's age? You have a hard time satisfying a woman and your answer to that problem is to crawl into bed with a woman fifteen or twenty years older than you? I would say that older women must be more forgiving, but in her case, somehow I doubt it. She verbally castrated that guy Hawkins, and then turned around and stuck her tongue down your throat."

"Yeah? Well, if he could fuck worth a damn she probably would've stuck her tongue down his throat." He started to pace, trying to calm the fury that he could feel surging to life inside of him.

"That is not the point!" she snapped.

"No, the point is that none of this is any of your goddamned business!" Who did she think she was, mocking his sexual performance? And it was one thing for her to badmouth the usual women he fucked, but Stone was above her insults; the woman could be a cold-hearted bitch, but she had integrity and he trusted her. That couldn't be said of very many people and he didn't appreciate Maria lumping her in with the rest of the women he had fucked. "You have no rights whatsoever to even have an opinion about the women I fuck!"

"I don't need your permission to have an opinion."

God, the woman was drivin' him up the fuckin' wall! Always talkin', always protestin', always wantin' to have the last damn word; it didn't matter what the topic was. Well, not this time… she had no rights where he was concerned! "We're not married, either, so as far as I know, who I fuck doesn't concern you and you have no right to nag me every minute of the day."

Maria snorted disdainfully. "Like I would ever marry someone like you."

Michael's temper was quickly approaching the boiling point. For the past two months… maybe even a little longer, she had been constantly reminding him that he wasn't her precious Michael; that he wasn't as good as the other man, that she would never cheat on Mr. Perfect - especially with him - and now here she was, playing the role of the nagging wife. Obviously she had reached the next stage of her insanity, because suddenly he and his counterpart seemed to be one person. Out of nowhere she was acting like she and the other Michael had been married, but somehow she was confusing him with the other man, and he was getting a headache trying to figure it all out.

She had been uptight and defending her decision to be faithful to a dead guy every since she had rather brutally turned him down and now she was yelling at him and treating him like he had cheated on her. Hell, if he had to deal with the shitty part of relationships, the accusations, the nagging wife at home, the constant bitching, why couldn't he enjoy some of the perks? Like having sex on a regular basis?

"How do you have sex with random women?" Maria asked, her tone biting. "How can you be so indiscriminate - "

"How do you not know when to shut up? Me an' you, we're not involved; as you've pointed out on numerous occasions, I'm not your Michael!" he shouted, feeling something unfamiliar inside of him snap. His eyes widened when a frying pan shot off of its hook and flew across the room, slamming into the doorframe when Maria ducked to avoid it. What the fuck?! His gaze shot to Maria where she had crouched down to avoid being hit and several emotions hit him at once - anger, fear, concern, and relief. She hadn't been hit; she had gotten out of the way in time, but what if she hadn't reacted quickly enough?

Maria stared at the frying pan for several long minutes before she stood up and walked out of the room without another word. She retreated to her bedroom and shut the door, leaning back against it and sliding down to sit on the floor.

Michael slowly crossed the room and leaned down to pick up the pan, transferring it to his left hand as he straightened back up. Reaching up, his fingers traced over the depression created in the wood where the frying pan had impacted it. Fuck, he hadn't meant to do that! He couldn't remember ever losing control like that; he was always careful to keep a strong hold on whatever it was inside of him that caused things like that to happen. This was different though… something about her had caused that tenuous thread on his control to snap. He had never felt the swirling maelstrom build so quickly, or been unable to contain it, and he had a bad feeling that it was connected to Maria.

He carefully and quietly set the pan on the stove and moved through the house, checking all of the locks and turning off lights as he made his way back to his bedroom. He paused at the door to her bedroom, his left hand coming up to briefly rest against the wood; there was nothing he could say that would change what had happened, but something inside of him felt… weird.

*****

Several hours later he gave up on sleep and prowled around the house restlessly, unable to shake the unsettled feelings clawing at him. He was a lot of things - cold, cruel, uncaring, and unfeeling, but he would never intentionally hurt a woman and he hoped she knew that much about him.

He turned a lamp on when he passed through the living room again and he threw himself down on the couch as he looked around at the subtle changes that had taken place in his house over the past couple of months. Instead of just blinds, curtains hung over the windows, colorful accent pillows adorned the furniture, lacy things had been placed on every available flat surface, and scented candles sat atop them.

Each new addition had only been added after an argument between them and somehow, despite the fact that he owned the house and everything in it, she had gotten her way on just about everything. He could feel a difference in the house since she had moved in and while he wouldn't admit it to anyone else it wasn't all that bad having a woman around the place. It would definitely be better if they were fuckin' like bunnies, but, even without that particular perk, it was okay most of the time.

His gaze turned downward and he looked at his hands, feeling regret wash over him as his thoughts once more turned back to the reason for his bout of insomnia. He stood up after a while and wandered back down the hall that led to the bedrooms, pausing in front of her door for several minutes before he reached out and turned the knob quietly. He opened the door and peered around it, checking to see if she was asleep and stepping inside once he was sure she was.

He walked around the bed and crouched down beside it, studying her features in the darkness. She rarely looked peaceful while she slept and he was pretty sure he was responsible for the disturbed expression on her face this time. As usual, she was reaching out across the empty space beside her, searching for the man who had been taken from her, the man who was obviously so much more to her than just a lover.

He rubbed his right hand over his tee shirt before laying it on the bed, not far from the edge. Like a heat-seeking missile zeroing in on its target, her hand found his within seconds. He had lost count of the number of times he had crept into her bedroom and done this very thing; he didn't understand why he did it, but the simple action spoke to something deep inside of him that he didn't acknowledge in the cold light of day. Once she had made contact her expression slipped into something resembling peace and the moment she calmed, that thing inside of him responded in kind.

Despite the early hour the sun wasn't making its way across the eastern horizon when he crept out of her bedroom and closed the door behind him. It was a clear indicator of impending rain and by the time he had changed into his running clothes and stretched the first clap of thunder was rolling across the sky.

*****

It rained all day and Michael spent hours out in the shop working on the motorcycles with the stereo turned up to drown out the noise created by the storm. He didn't bother going inside for breakfast or lunch, choosing to hide out in the shop instead. He wasn't sure what to say to Maria after what had happened the night before; he wasn't the type to apologize and he sure as hell wasn't wrong for getting mad about her accusations towards Stone.

He reached for a new socket, switching it out with the one already attached to the ratchet before going back to work. He had been going over everything that had happened the night before and he still didn't understand how his powers had gotten out of control like that. He shook his head and dropped a handful of bolts into a pan of cleaning fluid on the counter beside the disassembled engine. He had to find something else to think about before he did something stupid, he thought.

Maria moved from room to room for the most of the day, unsettled by the fight she'd had with Michael. If she'd had any doubts that he was pissed off, his absence at breakfast and lunch had given her all the confirmation she needed. As the day wore on she started dinner and did a couple of loads of laundry before moving into the living room to straighten things up.

She stood at the patio doors and watched the rain pouring from the overcast sky, her thoughts on the night before. She knew she had pushed him, provoking him into losing his temper, but it was the first time his powers had showed themselves under duress; it hadn't been an intentional response, she was sure about that. She should probably go talk to him but she was certain that he was still too angry, and if she intruded on his territory he was bound to see it as a sign of aggression. She wasn't interested in getting into another argument with him so soon after that last one.

She was getting ready to go check on dinner when the shop door slid open and Michael stepped outside. He took his time crossing the yard, unconcerned with the downpour that soaked him within seconds. His right hand reached out to settle on the handrail as his left foot landed on the second step, and he froze when he looked up and their gazes locked.

Maria's breath froze in her throat as she was thrown back several years to a rainy night and another Michael Guerin. In that time and place he had been seeking acceptance, reassurance, and a safe place where he could fall with the knowledge that her loving arms would catch him. This man sought none of those things, but in that moment she knew that the regret that briefly flared in his dark eyes was probably the closest thing to an apology that he had to offer.

She saw him take a step back and on an impulse she pushed the door open, sliding it along its track and standing aside. "Dinner'll be ready soon," she offered quietly.

He took the steps two at a time and quickly entered the house, heading back towards his bedroom without a word.

"Michael?"

He paused, but didn't turn around.

"Look, I shouldn't have said anything about Stone; I obviously don't understand your relationship with her."

"No, you don't." He waited a few seconds before nodding to himself and continuing on his way down the hall.

Maria watched him go and wondered if he had been waiting for an apology for more than her comments about Stone. Well, if that was the case he might as well get used to waiting because he wasn't going to get an apology for anything else; she wasn't the slightest bit sorry for the rest of it.

She went to get something to clean up the water trail he had left in his wake and then walked back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on dinner. Despite their fight the night before she wanted him to sit down and eat; considering the amount of food he put away on a daily basis, she was surprised he hadn't passed out from not eating.

Michael stepped into the bathroom and scrubbed his hands, getting rid of the oil and grease from the engine parts he had been working on. Finished with that, he stripped out of his shirt, hanging it over the shower rod so he could peel his pants off and drop them in the bathtub. He reached for a clean towel out of one of the cabinets and rubbed it over his body, drying off as he looked around the room. She had infiltrated the bathroom as well as the other rooms in the house; her stuff was completely mixed in with his and he always had to remember to double check to make sure he wasn't grabbing the wrong deodorant, soap, or shampoo.

No matter how many times he had moved things around in an attempt to keep all of her stuff separate from his, it always ended up mixed in together again. Most mornings he had to weed through the dozens of small bottles and tubes of makeup and other crap she had accumulated just to locate his aftershave and cologne. His gaze moved along the counter to the pair of electric razors sitting in their chargers next to each other. He rolled his eyes and ran the towel over his hair, getting most of the wetness rubbed out so he wouldn't have to resort to using the hair dryer that now resided on the shelf behind him. He'd had no choice but to build the shelf because for someone who had no intention of hanging around she was collecting an awful lot of things that were necessary to her daily life, and burning his hand on her curling iron had been the last straw.

He hung the towel up and walked through his bedroom to the closet to grab a clean set of clothes. He pulled a clean pair of cargo pants up over his hips, zipping then and ignoring the button as he reached out to plow through the shirts available. Selecting a red, sleeveless tee shirt he draped it over his left shoulder and made his way back through the house.

The smell of food got stronger the closer he got to the kitchen and his stomach growled loudly, reminding him once again that he hadn't eaten since the night before. He could hear one of his Blues CD's playing in the small stereo in the kitchen, but it was the female voice accompanying the singer that caught his attention. He paused in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wood frame and watched her.

She was wearing a multi-colored shirt that kept slipping off of one shoulder and a short black skirt. Like him, she was barefooted as she moved around, collecting the dinner dishes and stacking them on the counter to be placed on the table. She was totally unaware of him as she sang along with the song playing, the ease with which she transitioned when the tracks changed indicating that she listened to it frequently. His dark eyes followed the uninhibited movements of her body as she swayed to the music, and he craned his neck to the side when she bent over to open the oven door.

He growled low in his throat when she leaned over a little further and the skirt crept up with her movements, revealing more of her thighs than was previously visible, but not nearly enough in his opinion. It was so tempting to just walk up behind her and slide his hands over her ass before turning her around and taking her pouty mouth in a deep, hard kiss.

Maria was pulling the metal rack out to check on the roast when she felt a familiar tingling sensation dance along her spine and she knew without looking that Michael was behind her. His dark gaze was penetrating and she could feel it as surely as if he had reached out and touched her; it was something he had in common with her Michael and it was as disturbing as it was exciting.

She straightened up and whirled around to face him. "Can I help you with something?" she snapped, annoyed at the heat that flooded through her as his molten gaze traveled over her body. She immediately regretted the question, knowing what he was going to say before he said it.

"Oh, there are so many things you could help me with," he whispered huskily.

"I'll just bet there are." She shook her head as she moved to turn the volume down on the stereo built into the wall. "Anything that's not X-rated?"

He snorted and straightened up, entering the kitchen and walking up to her to clamp his hands around the edge of the counter on either side of her. "Not X-rated? Where's the fun in that?" His dark eyes gleamed triumphantly when she lowered her gaze to his bare chest and he saw the green irises darken to jade. He held his breath when he saw her right hand lift from her side and come to rest flat against his chest, pressing his dog tags against his flesh.

Maria waited several long, torturous moments before she slid her hand up and over the sculpted muscles, feeling the slight quiver in them. She heard his breathing quicken as her fingers trailed to his side and up under his arm. She had him right where she wanted him; he thought she had finally reached the end of her rope and she was giving in to him. She smiled to herself as she grabbed several of the hairs under his arm and jerked them as hard as she could.

Michael jumped back away from her, his right hand coming up to press against his left armpit as he howled in pain. "Son-of-a-fuckin'-bitch!" he screamed, pacing around erratically. "What the fuck did you do that for?!"

"One way or the other, you're gonna learn what the word no means."

As soon as the stinging, eye-watering pain subsided he withdrew his hand and looked at it, surprised that she hadn't drawn blood with her vicious attack. "And maybe next time you could simply say no," he snarled.

"I've already told you no and you seem to think that it only means I'll change my mind at a later date and that you're welcome to keep trying."

Michael pulled his shirt on over his head and glared at her. "Only one of us is lyin' to ourselves, and it's not me." He grabbed the stack of dishes off of the counter and carried them over to the table. "You can deny it all you want, Maria, but we both know it's only a matter of time before you end up in my bed."

She refused to let her mind go there. She simply refused. She would not trade her Michael in for the first copy available. "You live in a fantasy world."

Huh? She was the one who refused to accept her lover's death and who kept hoping that he would help her do something - something that she didn't even understand - to turn back time or work some kind of alien magic and he was the one living in a fantasy world? Fuck, that Maria girl was seriously delusional! "Believe whatever you need to believe to get you through the night."

"Just take the roast out of the oven." Maria went on as if he hadn't said anything. It wasn't a comment worth responding to.

Michael narrowed his eyes, not liking the way she was totally ignoring what he had said. "Y'know, there's a very fine line that separates fantasy from reality."

"Why don't we talk about what happened last night," Maria suggested, desperate to change the subject. She didn't want to think about how much she was really attracted to him or that there was a part of her that wondered what it would be like to make love with him.

"No." Michael carried the roast over to the table and set it down before crossing over to the refrigerator and pulling out two bottles of beer. He carried them to the table and sat down, placing one on the table in front of her plate before leaning back in his chair and uncapping his bottle.

Maria slid a pan of rolls into the oven and watched him, seeing his unwillingness to discuss the unexpected display of his powers. "Michael, something happened that you need to - "

"You make salad to go with dinner?" he asked, walking back over to the refrigerator and opening the door. He didn't want to talk about what had almost happened; she could've easily gotten hurt by his loss of control and it bothered him on a level that he didn't care to examine too closely.

"On the second shelf." She moved the rest of the serving dishes to the table and took her seat while he debated which dressing he wanted with the salad. He finally gave up and grabbed both bottles along with the salad and carried it to the table. It had taken weeks before she had been able to convince him to eat a salad, and once he had discovered that enough dressing covered the taste of the actual salad she hadn't had anymore problems.

Sarammlover - You'll get your answers very late in the fic, sorry.

Double trouble - Oh, yeah, they are good at being in denial, especially Maria.

Luluzita - Thanks for reading.

Emadaps - You are aware that those two are incredibly stubborn, hmmm? So giving in might take some time.

Marsis

Very sad to see just how dysfunctional she is progressively becoming. Something needs to happen to wake her up.

Something will happen but not something huge. In that case of pain and denial, something very simple can cause a person to snap.

April - Sexual tension happens every time every incarnation of Michael and Maria happen to be in the same room, no matter what universe they are living in!

Maji343 - Hmm, a kiss might happen sooner than you expect it.

Infecteddoll18 - Thanks for reading.

Opheliablack - No, they won't ignore Michael's powers. Michael isn't stupid. He knows that it would be a great advantage in his field if he could use his powers whenever he wanted, safely, instead of just using them in a last case scenario.

Part 25

He sat down and started carving the roast while she pulled the rolls out of the oven. She transferred them to a bowl as she considered how to continue a conversation that he obviously didn't want to have. She handed them to Michael when he turned around and then went to get the butter and strawberry jam from the refrigerator. She knew he would slather butter and jam on the rolls and then pour hot sauce over them once he finished the main course.

They ate in silence for a while before Maria decided to bring the topic up again. "He had the same problem, y'know?"

Michael looked up from the mashed potatoes and gravy he was loading onto his fork. "What?"

"Michael… he had the same problem controlling his powers when his emotions were involved. Actually, when his emotions got involved he really didn't have any control over his powers." She sighed when he shrugged and went back to eating. "Look, you're a very controlling man… you control everything in your life, from what jobs you're gonna take, to what woman you're gonna have sex with, to what you drink."

He paused to look at the bottle in his hand.

"It's non-alcoholic, although, my guess is that you've never even so much as tried an actual alcoholic drink because it would compromise your controlling nature. I'd be willing to bet that you don't do anything that would jeopardize that control and that not drinking alcohol has less to do with the fact that your alien bloodstream can't handle it and more to do with the fact that alcohol - "

He frowned. This was news to him. "What're you talkin' about?"

"You guys have no tolerance for alcohol, something which you apparently didn't know judging by your surprise." She nodded at his scowling expression. "Which means that I'm right about the reason you drink beer that's non-alcoholic; it's a control measure." She gave herself a mental pat on the back for her analysis of his character. She had gotten to know him pretty well; she could read him, and she'd be willing to bet that he didn't like that one little bit.

"There's nothin' wrong with control," he muttered.

Michael and control… two words which so didn't mix! It was so strange to see him desperately clinging to control. Why did he act this way? Had something happened in his past, in the orphanage, maybe? She would really like to hear his story about that part of his life but she knew that he wasn't going to share that with her. She had her doubts that he ever would. "You think if you control everything so rigidly that you can ignore the part of you that isn't human… that as long as it never reveals itself that you can - "

Michael growled, pissed off with her psychological crap and her apparent belief that she had some right to analyze him. Why was he still sitting there, listening to her sprouting nonsense about his life and the way he led it? It was his life, and he was free to do and act the way he wanted! "You don't know anything about it."

Maria went on as if she hadn't heard him. She was on a roll now, and she wanted to prove him that she wasn't just his double's lover, or the girl he was welcoming - and she certainly used that word in its loosest possible form - temporarily into his home. She knew him, and he would have to deal with the fact that someone not only knew his secret, but also had an insight into the depths of his soul. "I know what it's like to watch someone try so hard to hide such an essential part of who they are because of what could happen to them if their identity was ever discovered. But, it was more than just fear of discovery; like I said, Michael had a difficult time trying to control his powers when his emotions were involved. The more emotional he was, the harder it was for him to maintain any control." She took a drink from the bottle he had set next to her plate before continuing.

"And no one ever saw him use his powers?" Michael asked, his tone skeptical.

"No one that wasn't supposed to. There was evidence of his loss of control on a few occasions, but no one ever connected it to him."

"What'd he do?"

Maria dug into her past, searching for a story to tell. Which one would be the most significant? Michael's anger when they had came out of Ms. Vivian's reading? Or Billy? She sighed. Billy… yeah, that's the one it was going to be. That was when Michael's powers had really gone crazy. She didn't like to think about that time in their relationship; she wasn't particularly proud of her behavior. So much had been going on and she had felt like she was drowning, as if her only identity had been that of Michael Guerin's girlfriend, and not Maria DeLuca, the girl who had dreams, goals and who wanted to get out of Roswell, New Mexico. But still, it was a part of her past with Michael… it just not one of their better times.

"Well, one of the worst times was probably when this guy that I went to band camp with came back into town for a visit; it set Michael off pretty bad. His big thing was causing things to explode unintentionally when his emotions got involved. He blew up all kinds of stuff at the restaurant… bowls, sugar dispensers, and eggs. At home it was a lamp and his TV, and I can assure you that wasn't intentional because the man had a serious relationship with his television set. He set car alarms off all over my neighborhood when he blew the windows out of just about every car within a two or three block radius." She shook her head. "None of it was intentional - "

"What'd you do?" Michael asked, leaning back in his chair and slouching down as he finished off his beer.

Lost in her past, Maria was startled by his sudden question. "Excuse me?"

Hmmm, there was some bad stuff involved, he could smell it. So, their past wasn't a complete bed of roses. Interesting. "You said his emotions and loss of control over his powers were directly connected… so, what'd you do to set him off?" He nodded when she remained silent. "Uh-huh, so it wasn't just about his emotions, it was about their connection to you, and you did somethin' that provoked him."

Maria glared at him. "Yes, okay, he didn't like the fact that I was hanging out with Billy; he was jealous and he felt threatened by it."

Michael's left hand rested on the edge of the table and he tapped the empty bottle against it as he studied her guilty expression. "He had cause to be jealous though, didn't he?" He pointed at her as he stood to go get another beer. "You look guilty as hell."

"It wasn't like that! Billy was a musician; he understood - "

Michael's face became thunderous. He didn't know this Billy guy, but he felt like he could break something just by hearing her defending him. "He understood that you were with someone else and he still made a move on you."

Maria started, shocked by Michael's unexpected anger. God, whether it was her world or this one, Billy was always going to be a subject of contention with the Michael Guerins of the universe! She had moved on and forgotten about him. As a person, he hadn't had that much of an impact on her life. Billy Darden's impact on her life was more about what he had said than who he had been. "Look, that all happened a long time ago, and that is not why I brought the subject up. I am trying to get you to understand that there is a direct connection between - "

"Yeah, I got your point," he interrupted again. He twisted the cap off of the bottle and dropped it in the trash. "So, what happened with Billy, huh? Your boy kick his ass?"

"No, Billy went on to New York and…"

Michael frowned when the rest of her response was so jumbled together that he couldn't make it out. "And, what?" he asked, seeking clarification.

Maria decided that the history lesson was over. He didn't need to know everything about Michael and her. And she really didn't like remembering that moment in her life. Her heart ached at the reminder of the pain she had caused her Michael. She swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her throat. "And the rest of it really isn't any of your business. The important thing is that with practice you can learn to control your reactions. It might even be a little easier with you because of your occupation; you're more focused, more disciplined in some areas than he was."

"So, he learned to control his reactions?"

"Eventually."

That sounded good. If his double had learned to control his powers, so could he. It couldn't have been that difficult. And in the long term, it would be advantageous for his job if he could use his powers whenever he wanted, without risking being seen, hurting people, or being out of control. He watched her speculatively. Would she be willing to help him with the focusing and training? He had to ask. He really had nothing to lose at this point. "How?"

Relieved that he was dropping the Billy subject, Maria answered quickly. "With a lot of practice; we worked on it regularly to keep him on top of his game and he responded better when I worked with him. It helped him to focus and…" She trailed off when he braced his left hand on the counter and stared at her. "What?"

"You have him on a reward system?"

She must have heard him wrong. "A what?"

"Y'know, when he got it right you'd reward him?"

Maria looked to the heavens for patience. What did he think her Michael was? A dog that she had been training? "When he got it right, that was reward enough. He wanted to get his powers under control for himself, to protect me and his family… not to get laid." God, she really hated him, sometimes!

"So, you're tellin' me there was no incentive for him to get it right?" Incredulity colored his voice. How could his double not see that he had the upper hand in that situation? Maria wanted him to train, so the least that the other Michael could have done was to bargain to get what he wanted. He shook his head. The other Michael had been a little boy. He would've had so much to teach him, had they met. His insides suddenly shook with unease. Shit! Not again. What was going on? He took a deep breath, hoping to move past the episode and much to his surprise, he succeeded.

"Incentives like survival are pretty motivating, jackass." She shook her head when he frowned at her response. "Is there anything that doesn't automatically lead back to sex with you?"

He snorted. "Everything leads back to sex with me and that's the way I like it. And if this kid was me in your universe…" His grin was filthy. "Then there's no way he was the choirboy you've described."

Grrr, why on earth did he insist on picturing Michael as a saint? She had never said that he was a saint or anything even remotely close to resembling one. He was really starting to get on her nerves with his perfect Michael image that he kept throwing in her face. "I never said Michael was a choirboy, a saint, or perfect; those are all terms that you've come up with to describe him. There were some very distinctive differences between the two of you - "

"Yeah, he was everything I'm not, right?" Déjà vu, he thought.

"Basically, yes. Michael didn't have some need to sleep with whatever willing female body happened to be available; he needed more than just some - "

Michael chuckled. "Let me guess… he was the first guy you ever slept with."

Oh, she was so tempted to just throw something at him! "He was the only guy I ever slept with. Neither of us ever slept with anyone else. Ever."

He choked on his beer and grabbed the small towel hanging on the oven door to wipe his mouth. "What?"

"Monogamy, ever heard of it?" She smirked at his shocked expression. "Michael was very good at it."

"He never fucked anyone else?" Never? How was that possible? She was cute and he definitely wanted to nail her, but there was no way she was that good! No woman was a good enough fuck to make a man ignore the rest of the sexual buffet the world had to offer. Nope, it wasn't possible. "You're either lyin' or delusional."

"Believe what you want, Michael, but trust me when I tell you that neither of us had any reason to look elsewhere for satisfaction."

She was gonna fuckin' kill him! He didn't believe for a minute that two people could be so… dedicated, to each other, but if she was tellin' the truth and his counterpart had never fucked any other women, then she had to be somethin' else between the sheets. He really wanted to know what it was that had kept the man from seeking out other women, and what it was about her that could possibly make that need invalid. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Okay, this was just gonna drive him crazy if he kept thinking about it. Time to move on. "So, he got better by practicin' with your help?"

"Yeah," Maria said slowly, unsure of where he was going with the question.

"Good, we'll start in the mornin'." He sat down at the table once more, grabbing another roll and spreading butter and jam on it before pouring hot sauce over it.

"We'll start what?"

"You said you practiced with him and that it somehow helped him concentrate or focus, right? Well, you know more about this than I do, so it only makes sense that I use any information you can give me." And if he could impress her, that would be a bonus. Yep, it was all good. Wait… impress her? Where had that come from?

Maria shook her head. "Look, you're not gonna listen to me; I'm gonna tell you what to do, you're gonna get pissed off when things don't go the way you want them to, and then we're gonna get in another argument. I enjoy arguing with you, really."

He frowned at her sarcastic tone.

"But, I'm not interested in spending my time off with you yelling at me."

"Why do you assume I'll yell at you?" he asked, biting into the roll and licking the hot sauce off of his fingers when it dripped onto his hand. Okay, he was pretty sure that it would come to that. It was like they couldn't help it.

Was he kidding? Had he not learned anything since they had met? "Because it's what you do, and that's not how I wanna spend my time off."

"Fair enough. So, we'll start in the mornin' after breakfast."

"You expect breakfast too?"

"I'd prefer to start the mornin' by getting laid, havin' breakfast, takin' a shower with a beautiful woman and nailin' her to the wall before the hot water runs out, and then loungin' around in front of the TV for a while before startin' this. However, since that's not gonna happen, I would like to have breakfast first." He carried his dishes over to the sink and washed his hands, drying them before turning to look at her.

She had thought that her Michael was obsessed with sex, but this Michael was putting him to shame. He had sex on the mind 24/7. She'd bet that even if he lived until he was 90, he would still be chasing any girl that crossed his path. "No, that's not gonna happen. However, if memory serves, you've had breakfast every single morning since we went to the store together the first time, so it's not like you have to make a special request for it."

"So, if I make a special request for sex before breakfast, can I get that?" he called over his shoulder on his way out of the room.

"No," she yelled back. She couldn't help the smile that teased the corners of her mouth at his bark of laughter in response to her negative answer. She could hear the TV come on and the usual drone of the sportscaster's voice loudly proclaiming that tonight's game was a true clash of the titans and she rolled her eyes. She had heard that opening gambit too many times over the past few weeks; that sportscaster really needed to get a new speech.

He would spend the next couple of hours shouting obscenities at the referee for being too stupid to know how to make a real call and the rest of the time he would be ogling the dance squad and cataloging their finer… assets. She couldn't decide whether he liked the game or the halftime show better. Not that it mattered, she thought with a smile. He was going right along with her plan and he didn't even know it; she had known that he wasn't going to go along with her plan if she just told him they were going to work on his control issues with his powers. But, he thought it was his idea and they were doing it because he said so, not because she had anything to do with it. She stood and started clearing the table, making a thick sandwich out of the leftover roast and wrapping it before sitting it on the counter. He'd be back for it before long.