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Well, here we are. Just when I was beginning to think it would never happen, we've reached the end of this fic. Once you read this next part, you'll have read a whopping 1,395 pages. Is that crazy or what?

I just wanted to let you all know that I've never enjoyed writing and posting a fic as much as I have with Passion. Your feedback has often become a highlight of my day. I hope you found the story to be satisfying, entertaining, and maybe even a little surprising sometimes. I really appreciate those of you who have stuck with it, even through the bad times (*cough* Chapter 29! *cough*) Although I'm going to miss posting updates, I suppose it's a good thing. Now I'll have more time to work on my new fic.

Just one more thing before we get down to it! I made this video/slideshow as a way to thank EVERYONE who has EVER left me feedback, whether it was just once or after every single part. (I'm hoping I didn't forget anyone, but it's possible I did.) http://www.youtube.com/wa...?v=ol6WkWL8Cwk&fmt=18

Anyway, thank you again SO MUCH. Writers need their readers, so thank you for reading this fic. Enjoy the final part!








Part 128

Man, I never wanna let this girl go.

Michael stood behind Maria with his arms around her stomach, holding her in front of him. She reached out, turned the doorknob, and pushed open the door to their house. "Home sweet home," she said.

Sure, it was nice to be back in their town, back in their house, but the best part about all of this was being back with her. "You have no idea how good it feels to be back here," he told her, bending down to press a kiss against the side of her neck. She smelled incredible.

"About half as good as it feels to have you back here," she informed him as she stepped into the house. He walked behind her, still holding his arms around her, still not wanting to let her go. When they were apart . . . it just wasn't good. He knew that now.

"I was so dreading living here alone," she admitted.

"Well, now you don't have to." He grinned and whispered in her ear, "And now it's just the two of us here."

She spun around in his arms and remarked, "Ooh, the sexy possibilities." She giggled then, and they kissed, but just as he was thinking the kiss was going to lead them into the bedroom, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away from her slightly. "Wait a minute, go back," she said. "Go back."

"What?" He was confused.

"Back outside," she elaborated, pushing him in that direction. She shoved him back out onto their doorstep and went outside with him. She looked excited when she proclaimed, "We should do a threshold thing."

"A what?" He was still confused.

"A threshold thing," she repeated. "A couple does it when they either a) get married, or b) share a very romantic time together. Let's face it, Guerin: this is the most romantic it's ever gonna get for us."

"Oh, yeah?" He chuckled. "You think the euphoria's gonna wear off and you're gonna go back to hating my guts?"

"Oh, I still hate your guts," she informed him. "You still annoy me, and I'm still plotting your slow and painful death as we speak. So that's why we need to do a threshold thing now before I actually kill you."

He laughed and shook his head. "Crazy. Alright, what do I have to do?"

"Just pick me up in your manly arms and carry me across the threshold into our messy yet cozy abode."

"Abode?"

"Yes."

Sounded easy enough. "Okay, I can do that." He bent down, placed one hand underneath her knees and the other around her back and hoisted her up into his arms. She laughed happily, and he said, "Here we go!" as he took a step into the house.

"Ow!" she yelped when her head hit the side of the doorway.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Sorry, you okay?"

"Dumb-ass!"

He laughed and carried her in safely this time. "Sorry about that. That's harder than it looks."

"I could be concussed!" she exclaimed dramatically. "What if you concussed me?"

"Oh, my plan all along," he joked as he kicked the front door shut with his foot. "I was gonna do dirty things to you while you were unconscious." He set her back down on her own two feet in the middle of the living room.

"Oh," she said. "Well, I'd rather be awake for that."

Oh, that's my girl, he thought, liking the look he saw in her eyes. She looked like she felt . . . horny. And that worked out well, because he felt that way constantly. He encircled his arms around her waist again and pulled her in close to him, mating his mouth to hers, mentally mapping out the quickest way to get her naked and show her just how much he loved her.

"Mmm," she murmured between kisses, "do you think I forgave you too easily?"

"Easily?" he echoed.

"Yeah. I mean, I was furious with you when you left for L.A. And then I was even more furious when you stayed there. And then when I got back here, I was, like, a combination of furious, sad, and just plain pissed. But then you barge into graduation, all last-minute Prince Charming, and I go weak in the knees."

He grinned. "Your knees are weak?"

She smiled. "Just a little."

"Well, that would explain the whole threshold thing."

"I'm serious, Michael. I don't want you to feel like you can just do something stupid and get away with it . . . even though you always do."

"No, I don't feel that way," he assured her. "It didn't seem so easy to me. You made me do that song and dance."

"Your fault. You're gullible. I took immense pleasure in it."

"I'm sure you did." He reached down in between them and undid a couple of buttons on his shirt again, re-enacting his performance. "I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my--"

"Michael," she cut in, pulling back a little. "Hold up a minute. Do you really just wanna be slaves to the passion?"

That sounded good to him. "Uh, yeah," he answered simply. He leaned in to kiss her again, but she held her hand out, stopping him.

"I'm just saying, if we start having sex now, we're never gonna be able to stop."

Well, that sounded even better. "Yeah, I'm okay with that." He leaned in again to try to kiss her, but she held him back much the same.

"Michael."

"Baby, I'm like the Energizer Bunny," he reminded her. "I just keep goin' and goin' and goin'."

"I just think that we should . . . be smart about this."

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion and echoed the word as though he had no understanding of it. "Smart?"

"Yeah. Like maybe we should not have sex just yet and do something else instead."

"But we've had sex before," he pointed out.

"And it resulted in badness."

He grunted. "Felt like a pretty good result to me."

She gave him a look. "I'm not talking about the pleasure moment. I'm talking about the waking up afterwards. You see, I tend to be alone during that part, and fighting ensues."

"But it's different this time."

"I know," she said, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I know it is. I just . . . I think we should hold off."

Is she serious? he wondered in disbelief. She can't be serious. But if she was . . . "Okay," he said. If that was really what she wanted, to take things . . . slow . . . hell, wasn't eight years slow enough, though?

"Okay," she said, taking a few steps back from him. "Good, we're on the same page. Now, do you mind if I get out of this graduation robe? I really can't stand it anymore, and it's so . . ." She pulled the heavy robe up and over her head and tossed it onto the floor. "Hot," she finished, standing before him then in only the dress she was wearing underneath the robe. Short. Tight. White and strapless. The very sight of it sent a message straight to his already enthusiastic cock.

"Nice dress," he said, beginning to sense the game she was playing. "Or underwear, in some cultures."

"Thanks," she said, smiling flirtatiously. It was becoming quite obvious to him that she didn't really want to be 'smart' about this. She was just like him.

"So," he said, playing along, "if you don't wanna have sex, what do you wanna do?"

"I didn't say I don't wanna have sex," she reminded him. "I said I don't think we should."

"So what should we do?"

"Well . . . maybe we could watch some TV," she said, picking up the remote control. She sat down on the couch, turned the television on, and asked him, "You want to?"

He let his eyes wander all over her, over those long dancer legs, and answered honestly, "Not so much."

"Are you sure?" she said, lying down on her back. She stretched her arms above her head and looked at him sexily, sultrily. It took everything he had not to pounce on her and ravage her like a maniac.

"'Cause there's great shows," she went on, sliding one leg inward to bend at the knee. She alternated then, straightening out her legs and bending them, squirming all around on the couch, her dress hiking up. "Great shows like Tila Tequila and Deal or No Deal. They need to be watched, and I think we should make them a priority." When she lifted both her knees, he caught sight of the fact that she wasn't wearing an panties beneath her tiny dress. Or if she was, they were too small for the eye to see. Either way, it was hot as hell, and he had to tug on his jeans to loosen them.

"No TV?" she asked innocently.

He shook his head. "No TV."

"Alright, then." She sat back up, and he groaned at the loss of the view. She turned the television off, stood up and continued to play her game. "Well, golly, what else could we possibly do in this big old house of ours where no one else lives anymore? I wonder . . ."

He smiled, enjoying this. It was like foreplay to foreplay.

"We could eat," she suggested suddenly.

"Alright," he said, imagining himself with his head between her legs. "Let's talk eating."

"Are you hungry?" she asked him, heading towards the kitchen.

"Oh, yeah."

She stopped, glanced back over her shoulder again, and said, "Maybe I should feed you."

Hearing her say that, he had to close his eyes and will his hand not to start pumping his cock. She was driving him mad with desire. But then again, she always did.

"What are you in the mood for?" she asked him, heading towards he refrigerator.

"Not food," he told her.

"Are you sure?" She pulled open the refrigerator and bent down to peer inside, purposefully sticking her ass out in the air. Again, he could see what was-or rather wasn't-underneath her dress, and he got even more turned on. "'Cause we've got some good food in here," she went on. "Eggs and potatoes and strawberries. And yummy cheese." She glanced back at him over her shoulder again and said, "You don't want any of those things?"

"You know what I want," he said grinning.

"Yeah." She shut the refrigerator door and stood up straight again. "I want it, too."

He slowly sauntered toward her, making no effort to hide the bulge in his jeans. Hell, he wanted her to see it. She was the one who'd made it.

She ran her hand across their marble countertop and gave him a mischievous look. "Remember the counter?"

"How could I forget?" The only thing that had been wrong about making out with her atop that counter had been the betrayal aspect. But now, Max and Liz were happy. Everyone was happy, so they didn't have to feel bad about anything.

She hopped up on the counter and kicked her high-heeled shoes off. Then she reached out her foot and, once he was close enough, hooked her big toe in one of his belt loops and pulled him closer to her.

"You know, I'm starting to rethink my whole take-it-slow strategy," she admitted. "In fact, now I think we should probably just get naked and sweaty and smooshy together."

"You really have a way with words," he told her as he stepped in between her legs. She wrapped those legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer yet. She was such a . . . vixen.

"Wanna smoosh?" she asked, smiling.

"Constantly."

"Oh, thank God." She pulled on his shirt, bringing his face in closer to his and was about to kiss him when he said something to stop her.

"On one condition."

She frowned. "Condition? There's conditions to our naked sweatiness now?"

"Just this once."

She looked confused.

"Admit that my speech was a very sexy speech," he said.

She made a face. "What?"

"Yeah, come on."

"Why?"

"Maria, I've been workin' for a director who couldn't give a compliment to save his life. I need my ego stroked."

"Oh." She slipped her hands down between them to undo his jeans and said, "I think you need something else stroked more."

It took everything he had to grab her hands and make her stop what she was doing. "Not until you say it," he said stubbornly.

"What exactly do I have to say?"

"Just say, 'Michael, that was a sexy speech.'"

She sighed heavily and looked him right in the eye. "Michael."

He slowly let go of her hands.

She hooked her fingers into his belt loops and mumbled quietly, "It was a sexy speech."

He grinned, happy to hear that, and tried to give her that ever-elusive kiss, but she pulled back at last minute and added, "But only because it was about me."

Bitch. She was a stubborn, crazy, outrageous bitch, and she was his girlfriend. And his best friend. Everything.

God, he loved her.

"Ah, come here," he growled, unable to resist her any longer. She laughed as he swooped her up off the counter and carried her into the bedroom to make love to her all over again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Wow, that was some ceremony, wasn't it?" Tess said as she and Kyle returned home that afternoon.

"It sure was," Kyle agreed, setting his robe down on the couch. "A little long."

"I totally fell asleep," Tess admitted. "I woke up to see you get your diploma, though. Did you see my topless dance?"

"Of course I saw. Highlight of the whole ceremony. Ask anyone."

"Good. You know, I bet Arlene Ross is fuming right now because her speech is gonna be the only one people won't remember tomorrow morning."

"Yeah. Max's speech was really good. You know, I didn't expect him to do an impromptu thing, but I'm glad he did."

"Yeah. And then of course, Michael . . ."

Kyle grunted, unable to keep from smiling at the thought of two of his best friends finally being more than that. "About time those two crazy kids got it together, don't you think?"

"Definitely," Tess agreed emphatically. "I like to think we did our part. I mean, you dropped millions of subtle hints over the years, and I came up with Maria's nudist costume for that party awhile back."

"Very effective."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"Tess, you're pretty much the smartest person I know," he told her.

"Right," she said, clearly not believing him.

"No, you are." He picked up her hands and held them in his. "I think a lot of times you don't get the credit you deserve. People look at you and think you're just a pretty face. And a hot body. Which, of course, you are that. But I'm so grateful I've gotten to know you inside and out."

She smirked. "You do know my insides."

"You know what I mean."

She nodded. "I know."

"And . . . I don't know. I know college is ending-or actually, it's already over . . . for me, anyway. But in a way, it feels like everything's just beginning, you know, like we've got our whole lives ahead of us and we can do whatever the hell we want with 'em. And I just wanna say some of this stuff before my dad gets here and starts telling me how proud he is-we actually might have time for a quickie. He drives like a senior citizen."

She giggled.

"But seriously, Tess, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, to be your husband, to . . . I don't know, make babies with you someday, have our babies fight and play with Michael and Maria's babies."

She laughed again.

"I just think you don't really know how much you mean to me," he said. "And I don't even know why I'm sayin' all this stuff. I'm not really a touchy-feely guy, but when I'm around you . . . I feel touched and I feel you, and now that I'm sayin' it out loud, I realize it sounds a lot like sex, but it's not just that. You know it's not. It's . . . it's the fact that you're the one for me, and I wouldn't even wanna be alive because I couldn't be alive if I wasn't the one for you."

She smiled up at him, looking a bit surprised to hear him being so vocal about his feelings, and said, "Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you just wrote your vows."

He thought about it for a moment and realized . . . it was true. He probably had.

"Come here." He swooped her up into his arms and whirled her around.

She laughed and said, "Oh, I wish we were already on our honeymoon!"

"Oh, that's gonna be so good," he agreed, already fantasizing about the hours on end they could spend in bed.

"I know!" Her jubilant laughter resounded throughout the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Okay, so after dinner, Max and Liz are gonna go back to their place and . . ." Isabel trailed off.

"And do what?" Alex asked as they made their way through the parking lot towards the restaurant.

"Use your imagination."

"Okay," he said. "I'm using it. I'm arriving at sex. My imagination's not goin' anywhere else."

"Well, it seems likely," Isabel acknowledged as they walked into the restaurant. "I was getting a vibe, sort of a 'we-just-got-pelvic-isn't-that-nice?' kind of vibe."

"Good for them," Alex said. "Way to rebound."

"I don't think it's just a rebound. But I guess we'll find out over dinner, won't we?"

"Yep. You see your parents?"

Isabel peered into the restaurant and shook her head. "Nope. You see yours?"

"No, they couldn't make it in today. They're coming in tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, that works for you, right?"

She sighed. "Yeah. Kinda sucks, though. My parents are staying with us tonight. You parents, I assume, are staying with us tomorrow night."

"Sex does not seem to be on the menu for us, does it?"

She shrugged. "Nope. As soon as these parents are gone, though, we go wild."

"Sounds good."

"And actually, it's okay anyway, because I have a feeling hormones are gonna be running rampant in Santa Fe tonight. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to wake up tomorrow morning and find out that Michael Jr., Max Jr., and Kyle Jr. were conceived."

"Whoa. You think?"

"No. But it's still a horny, horny town right now, and I'm jealous."

"Well . . ." He pondered it, thinking of his apartment, the thickness of the walls, the spacing of the rooms. "Maybe if we were just very, very quiet . . ."

"Izzy!"

He stopped talking about that immediately when a woman, apparently Isabel's mother, rushed up to her and hugged her. "Then we could fall asleep," he finished. "Because it's always easier to fall asleep when you're . . . quiet." He chuckled.

A man who had to be her father came up and extended his hand for handshake. "You must be Alex. It's nice to meet you."

"Oh, yeah, Mom, Dad, meet my man," Isabel said with a laugh. "This is Alex Whitman. Alex, this is my mom Diane and my dad Phillip."

"Nice to meet you," Alex said.

"Well, aren't you just the cutest thing," Diane said, pinching his cheek as though he were a grandchild.

"Mom," Isabel groaned.

"What? He's cute, Isabel. You're very cute, Alex."

"Um . . . thank you." He wasn't sure what else to say to that.

"It's a good thing," Phillip informed him. "Her reaction to Kyle was, 'he's the devil.'"

"Oh." Alex nodded. "Okay, I'll take cute."

Diane smiled, leaned over and said to Isabel, just loud enough that Alex could overhear, "I like this boy already, sweetie."

Isabel smiled at him, setting his heart on fire the way she always did, and said, "I like him, too."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Liz wasn't sure whether she should say something to Max about their little . . . interlude before graduation. He'd definitely made it clear during his speech that he had feelings for her, and now she knew that she had definite falling-in-love types of feelings for him. And what with having sex and all, there'd been actual feeling. But were they supposed to talk about it?

They drove to the restaurant mainly talking about Michael and Maria, how surprisingly great it was that they were finally together. Max said he didn't even feel jealous or angry anymore. Just hopeful. Hopeful that they were going to all be better friends than they had been before and that they would finally just all be happy. No more lies, no more denial, no more heartbreak. Liz mainly just smiled and nodded. She would have said more, but she couldn't think straight around him right now. Max really had no idea how desirable he was.

When they walked into the restaurant, she spied Mr. and Mrs. Evans right away. They were already sitting at a table with Isabel and Alex, talking.

"Funny," she remarked. "They look like the same old parents."

"No, I think they're really different now," he insisted. "I've spoken to them on the phone a few times since Maria and I broke up, and they've been . . . dare I say it? They've been nice. Supportive. Kind of the way parents should be."

Liz smiled. She never would have thought that the adults would work things out with their kids and the kids would work things out with each other. Yet somehow . . .

"Max!"

She stopped thinking when she heard Isabel shout Max's name. She waved them over to the table.

"I'd say brace yourself," Max said, "but I don't think you need to. My parents like you. You're not Maria."

She smiled, actually liking the sound of that. That's right, I'm not, she thought. I'm Liz Parker. For the first time that she could remember, she felt completely okay with that. More than okay, even. Elated.

She followed Max to the table and waited slightly awkwardly as he hugged his parents and his sister, receiving a congratulations from all of them.

"I liked your speech, Max," Alex said. "The salutatorian was never smarter."

"You know, I have to admit, I actually kind of liked being salutatorian," Max admitted. "It felt more fitting, somehow."

"It was an excellent speech, Max," his mother agreed. "We really are proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom."

Liz smiled, happy to see this. Diane and Phillip and Amy had all made some great and much-needed changes. Maybe the future really was something to be hopeful about.

"Hey, Max," Alex said, "you didn't tell me your dad was a Star Trek fan."

Max wrinkled his forehead. "I didn't know he was."

Alex's mouth gaped, and he said, "Mr. Evans, we might just be a match made in heaven. I'm a closet Trekkie myself."

Mr. Evans laughed. "Well, how about that?"

"Not closet anymore," Isabel mumbled.

Liz glanced around, suddenly wondering if she had a place here. Her insecurities, though diminishing, weren't quite gone just yet. She wouldn't be herself if she wasn't worrying about something.

"Uh, Mom, Dad," Max interrupted the Star Trek conversation suddenly. "You remember Liz, right?"

"Right," Diane said. "You're Max's roommate."

"Yeah, my roommate," Max said.

Her heart started to fall a little. Just a roommate?

It started to beat fast in anticipation when she felt his hand touching hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. Contact. "Also my girlfriend," he added, smiling at her.

She smiled back at him, more than a little bit breathless, and more than a little bit thrilled. Liz and Max. It had a ring to it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Admittedly, Maria panicked when she woke up naked and in bed. How could she not? The last two times she had done that, she and Michael had ended up fighting and almost destroying their friendship, and she vehemently didn't want to do that again. When she whirled around and saw him lying beside her, though, propped up on one elbow, apparently having been just watching her sleep, waves of relief coursed through her.

"Hey," he said, smiling.

She smiled, so happy to have him next to her. "You're here."

"Oh, yeah. You're never gettin' rid of me now."

She smiled at that, too, then decided to mess with him a bit. "Never?" she echoed, making a face. "Hmm. Maybe I should rethink this whole loving you thing."

He laughed.

"No. Just kidding. I pretty much like the thought of forever." She reached out and interlaced her fingers with his own, still needing to feel him. Actually, she couldn't think of a time when she wouldn't need to feel him.

"That was amazing earlier," he said, lying down on his side. "I'm not gonna go around advertising this, but I can barely keep up with you."

"Shut up. I was trying to keep up with you."

"No, I was trying to keep up with you."

"No, I . . ." He thought about it and reconsidered. "Okay. You were trying to keep up with me."

He grunted, laughed a little and said, "No, actually you were trying to keep up with me after all."

"God, you're such a loser."

"Loser who gets the job done," he pointed out. "Not that it's much of a job. That would imply work and dissatisfaction. None of that here."

"Yeah." She rolled over onto her side so she could look him right in the eyes when she asked, "Michael, speaking of work, can we, like, clarify something?"

"We, like, can," he mimicked.

She rolled her eyes. "I just . . . you say you're gonna be here forever, but what if you get another internship in L.A.? Or New York, or-I don't know-Guam or something."

"Guam?"

"Yeah. Would you go?"

"Well, not to Guam."

She rolled her eyes again. "Seriously."

"No, I wouldn't go," he assured her immediately. "That stuff just isn't for me. Besides, I'm stayin' with you."

"I just don't wanna limit you."

"Trust me, Maria, as long as I'm with you, I couldn't ask for anything more."

She smiled. "Check you out. Mr. Romantic."

"Check me out."

She laughed. "Well, this is good to know."

"Yeah. You know, I'll have to talk to Alex. He brought up this idea about the two of us maybe starting up our own film company. Sounds risky, I know, but he's got a lot of good ideas."

"Huh," she said. "So it'd be, like, Whitman-Guerin Productions?"

"Guerin-Whitman Productions," he corrected. "My name's first. My name's always first."

"Are you sure? 'Cause this is the DeLuca-Guerin household now."

"Guerin-DeLuca."

"Uh-uh. Alphabetical order. Plus, I'm better so I get to be first." She smirked, pleased with herself.

"Fine, it's the DeLuca-Guerin household," he acquiesced. "And the only reason I'm agreeing to that is 'cause I'm still high on sex right now."

She smiled and laughed. "Me, too. I'm so glad we both enjoy a good sack session."

"Ah, more than one." He grinned.

She felt his leg sliding in between hers, and she moved in closer to him. The scent of their union was still heavy in the air, intoxicating, invigorating. She really had no desire to ever get out of that bed. Ever.

"I can't believe you're my boyfriend now," she said. "That's so weird."

"Hey, you're my girlfriend, you know."

"I know. It's funny how things work out."

He brought his hand down underneath the covers to cup her backside and press their lower bodies close together, eliciting a small moan from her. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Just that, a year ago, or even a week ago, if someone had told me that we'd be laying here right now, ready to put it on each other again, no longer denying that we're in love, I would've laughed my ass off. Because I didn't even know I loved you. I've known you so long, Michael, and I didn't . . ." She trailed off and said, "I don't feel like we wasted time, though. Even though it took us eight years. Do you?"

"Feel like we wasted time?"

"Yeah."

"No. Friends first. That's my motto."

She laughed. "Oh, how cheesy and so not your motto."

"Well, it is now," he decided.

She knew him too well to know that wasn't it. "Yeah, right. We both know your motto's still 'get laid, get it hard, get laid again.'"

"Well, that, too." He grinned mischievously. "Speaking of getting it hard . . ." He pressed his erection in between her thighs.

"You really are like an Energizer Bunny," she said, not at all disappointed. "An Energizer Bunny who likes to direct things."

"Oh, yeah. Damn, I wish I had my camera right now."

She frowned, suddenly realizing that he didn't seem to have any of his things. "Where is your camera? And all the rest of your stuff."

He shrugged. "Who knows? The camera's broken. The other stuff might be on a plane headed this way."

"Your camera's broken?"

"I dropped it runnin' through the airport, didn't really stop to go back for it."

"Maria vs. the camera and Maria won?" She smiled happily. "You really do love me!"

"Hell yeah, I do, dirty girl." He reached up and stroked her hair, tucking some strands behind her ear.

She grunted. "Ugly boy."

"Sexy boy."

"What?" she shrieked. "You can't change your nickname now. That's, like, unlawful! You are ugly boy. I am dirty girl. That's the end of it."

He smiled and once again said, "Sexy boy."

"Oh my god, you're a piece of work."

He laughed, kept on smiling, and gazed at her with a look of pure passion, pure understanding, and desire, and she returned that look to the fullest. Then he surprised her by asking a completely random, but somehow completely appropriate question for the two of them and the nature of their relationship. "Wanna see if we can have sex for twenty-four hours straight?"

She felt her face light up with excitement at the thought, and she couldn't contain herself. "Oh my god, yes."

They crashed together in a kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My name is Maria DeLuca, and I just graduated from the University of Santa Fe. You all know me now, so congratulations. You know that my friends and I (and yes, they are still my friends) are practically the most popular people ever, and that's still an understatement. We truly are campus legends. I can think of worse of things.

Kyle, Max, and Michael and I aren't as simple as we used to be. Things changed this year. Relationships changed. Kyle's going to be a married man soon, and Max is actually happy now. And Michael and I . . . well, we're still trying to hit a marathon twenty-four hours of sex, so clearly we're doing fine.

I love him so much. Even though he's still annoying as hell. And he loves me.

This year, I thought I knew who I was; I thought I knew what I wanted. But I was completely wrong. Now I know who I am; now I know what I want. And the most amazing thing of all is, I finally have it.

I spent most of my college career not paying attention in class, not studying for tests, and I ended up learning something huge, something that completely changed my life. It still sounds kind of weird when I say it out loud, but it really is just one thing to have sex. It's quite another to have passion.

Michael and I have it in spades.

THE END

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