Michael and Maria, story of Rosy Dee complete, m&m, teen Jan 15, 2017

This is the place to post all your General Roswell fanfiction. Any Canon fics, which pick up directly from any episode of the show and that focus on Max/Liz, Michael/Maria, Isabel/Alex or Isabel/Jesse, Kyle/Tess, or all the couples together! Rule of Thumb: If Max healed Liz in the Crashdown in September 1999, then your fic belongs here. If it picks up from the show in any way, it belongs here.

Moderators: Anniepoo98, Rowedog, jbangelo, ISLANDGIRL5, Itzstacie, truelovepooh, FSU/MSW-94, Forum Moderators

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Michael and Maria, story of Rosy Dee complete, m&m, teen Jan 15, 2017

Post by ken_r » Mon Sep 12, 2016 11:43 am

Michael and Maria

Title: Michael and Maria
Author: ken_r AKA ken242 AKA Kenneth Renouard
Genera: canon
Couples: Michael and Maria
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: Just extrapolating a few years after graduation . Not my characters. They are borrowed for a possible ending to the story.
Summary: Sometime after the after graduation road trip they all split up and went different ways

Michael and Maria

She was kneeling in the garden, working in her small yard situated in the old part of Roswell. These yards still had trees, some of them hundreds of years old or, at least it, was thought that they were that old. Roswell had been started in 1891. It was unknown if there had been any trees there before that time. She was about five feet three or four inches tall, a dishwater blond having a figure hidden in the loose smock and baggy jeans she was wearing. Her eyes were green, gray or something in between; they were hidden behind cheap plastic horn rimmed sunglasses. Seeing her this way, you wouldn’t say beautiful, gorgeous or anything like that. Maybe, she could be called cute, with the smudge of dirt on her nose and sweat running off her brow leaving streaks of mud running down her cheeks

This was older Roswell. Most of the elder Roswellians knew her and shouted out a “Hi Maria,” as they walked by. To them, she was that little DeLuca girl whose mother had refused assistance as she brought her daughter up alone. Amy DeLuca had worked so hard to give Maria things she thought a girl needed that the neighbors all admired them and sort of banded around the two to offer them protection. Offer them protection from what? The Roswellians didn’t know, but this was Roswell, legends abounded about UFOs, military intruders and modern developers all trying to shape the future of Roswell. Shape or invade what you wanted, but do it on the other side of town. Old Roswell didn’t take kindly to those they didn’t think belonged. This little pixie certainly belonged.

When Maria got tired of her garden, she would go back into her small house, shower, and put on a baggy sweater along with another pair of baggy pants. If the elder Roswellians could have peeked into her bathroom window, they might have had a surprise. An almost impossibly narrow waist, well-toned legs and arms of a dancer and the full-busted chest of a singer, would all have caused heart failure in some of the elders. Her long hair hanging down her back gave way to golden strings. It was dish-water blond only at the roots which would have to be tinted when she went back.

The mousy woman in her late twenties to early thirties, so dowdily dressed, would shop at the super market with hardly any notice and this was the way Maria wanted it. What clerk or sack-boy would ogle the woman peering over her glasses and fumbling for her change purse when the short shorts of the teeny-boppers and the low blouses of the soccer moms paraded by? Tits and ass were what counted and the lady known as Maria didn’t show much of either.

Sometimes, it did get lonely. She missed all of them. Her mom, Amy, and mom’s boyfriend, Jim, had been killed in a automobile accident several years ago. She had inherited this house from them. Sheriff Jim’s son, Kyle, had taken off after the accident. It had been reported that the death of his father had hit him hard. His mother had deserted him at three and now his father was also gone. Kyle didn’t realize how much his father meant until too late.

Max and Liz, her closest friends, who knows where they were Maria only hoped they were still together. That bit of fantasy kept her going so many times. Max and Liz had to stay together else; the universe would become unstable. Then, there was Michael; Michael, the love of her life. At one time, Maria thought that the world revolved around the relationship between herself and the quiet boy from foster care. One day, Maria woke up and realized that Michael had been drifting away for some time. Now, he was gone. No one had heard from him or if they had, no one had said anything to Maria. She never knew if she had, in someway, failed him or he had failed himself. There had been times when she felt he was suffocating her style and career. Well, he was gone now and Maria was responsible only to herself.

Now, the Crashdown was now owned by José Ortega, the one time fry-cook. It was a Mexican themed restaurant, doing fairly good business, but a far cry from the place where Maria and Liz had grown up. José still hired high school girls to wait on tables, but they all wore full pleated skirts, although well above the knee and tiaras in their hair instead of the UFO antennas. When she first returned, Maria had gone back as a movement of nostalgia. José welcomed her with open arms, but too many memories were haunting Maria for her to return many times. First kiss and making out on the storeroom floor were shadows that haunted the Maria of today. West Roswell High had been caught up in the gender wars and was busy labeling the restrooms as open to anybody. Maria had neither been a reformer nor a great student, so she found little interest there. The UFO museum was now completely automated with robotic characters, short movies and unbelievable automatons collecting tickets and giving advise. The tourist still flocked there every summer, but it did not tell anything true about the story of 1947 Roswell.

Maria stuck to her garden and occasionally exchanged cakes or cookies with her elder neighbors who never pried into her affairs. When Maria had down time, she always came back to her garden. Maybe, that would be enough for her; she didn’t know.


The lights shown down hot on the stage. The stagehands and photographers all were dripping with sweat. The crowd was noisy even for an event such as this. Not only were the new swimsuits coming out, but it had been purposely rumored that Rosy Dee would be seen on the runway. Rosy Dee rated triple X in whatever she did. Rosy Dee wearing a swimsuit that never was intended for sale. Maybe, a strip club or a movie producer where they could control how the garment was displayed could buy it, but on any beach, riots would be guaranteed. Rosy knew that just before she walked down the runway, someone would throw a bucket of water on her and the swimsuit would almost disappear to a ridiculous shadow barely concealing anything of her body, as she walked down the board walk strutting her stuff, trying not to be blinded by the continued flashbulbs or now the built in electronic gadgets and trying to not stumble. Rosy had done this hundreds of times, but there was always that first one. No, once again Rosy Dee, the darling of the photographers, the men’s magazines and the “R” rated movies succeeded.

“Miss Dee, Archibald Cox wants a date with you,” the producer shouted out through the dressing room door.

“Fuck him, that is all he really wants. A night with Rosy Dee and then, he can brag to all his millionaire friends that he laid the great Rosy Dee. He expects to flaunt his limo, his mansion and his stolen collection of ‘Dutch Masters’ and I will be in front of him on my knees. You can fuck him I say, but I am not going to. Look, there is a soldier in the forth row near the aisle. He is a sergeant, I think. Tell him that Rosy Dee requests his presences in her dressing room after the show. Escort him there, make sure he arrives and that that Cox Bastard doesn’t try to stop him.”

James Williams, her producer, should have expected that. Handled right, Archie Cox could have been worth a cool ten million in the next show. However, you didn’t argue with Rosy Dee. If she wanted to fuck some unknown soldier that is what she would do. If he wanted to keep being her producer, he would make it happen.

Michael had signed up for one more tour. It was going to be a bitch and he had consented to go out with his buddies as one last hurrah before the storm. In a week from now, he would be up to his armpits in bodies in some town that he couldn’t pronounce, let alone spell. He would wear his enemy’s blood as his war paint. Michael led the fiercest band of anti terrorist in the free world. His buddies knew that there was something deep in his background, but Michael kept that part of his life separate and private. What they did know was that if they went into battle with Michael, they would return, dead or alive, after the battle had been won. Walking or slung over a buddies shoulder, Michael brought you back.

When the producer walked up to him, his buddies cheered. Finally, someone was recognizing him for what he was, a hero. The sergeant represented all of them. Michael blustered a little, but you didn’t turn something down like this in front of a bunch or horny, homies. That is what they were when they were not fighting. They were all a group bonded by the same home, the home of life and death. Oh well, Michael thought, she was probably some do-gooder bitch who got off on soldiers and he would take what she gave and not let it go to his head. Michael nodded his consent.

Archie Cox blustered in front of James Williams. Didn’t that bitch know how much he could contribute to her next show? Jimmy Williams didn’t get to be producer by not being able to finesse his way out of a corner. “Archie, this was a publicity stunt she set up weeks ago. I can’t do anything now, but try again next week.”

Archie grumbled, but he had his reputation to think of also. He had lusted for Rosy Dee for sometime, but let her fuck that soldier, there was, as Jimmy said, next week.

Michael approached the door clearly marked Ms. Dee. What could a woman like her want with him? That prissy manager was waiting for him. “Miss Dee is waiting for your presence,” he intoned.

“Look, buddy, I move out at noon tomorrow, so I got to be back at the barracks by 0900, at the latest, that is 9:00 in the morning for you.” Michael said this in pure bravado. There had been nothing said about him spending the night with Rosy Dee.

Jimmy smiled and nodded, “We will be sure to get you there on time.”

That didn’t answer any of Michael’s questions. What did a woman like Rosy Dee want with a soldier?

Michael knocked softly on the door. He didn’t know what to expect, but he was met by a woman wearing a translucent gown, her body clearly all-natural was outlined as she walked. She smiled sweetly and whispered, “My name is Rosy, what is yours?”

Michael had to work to not stutter. “My name s Mike, just Mike.”

“Okay, Just Mike. I would invite you to go clubbing in another world and another time. Here, all I can offer is my company, food and drink. The public would not let us have any time together if we went out.”

Michael, to be contrary, stated, “I am not one for hard drink. I don’t suppose you would have a grape Snapple?”

Rosy smiled again. It seemed nothing could fluster her. “Of course, it will only take a few minutes to fetch it. While waiting, could we sit down and talk?”

Michael usually had good sense about people. Only a few back in Roswell knew it, but Michael was an alien clone. That is why he was so good in the field. Michael could tell who to trust and who to shoot. He had the ability to almost infallibly read people. When they were kids, his friends all joked that it was “Spidey Sense,” from the comic character Spiderman. Now, he had his ‘Spidey Sense’ all tuned up and he was getting nothing. Michael couldn’t tell if this woman was human or alien. He still did not have a clue as to what she wanted. Michael had other senses, some of them even human, but they failed him, also. Michael was wound as tight as an old man’s watch. In battle, he would have been shooting everything that moved. Now, he had to decide if this was battle or not.

Rosy Dee showed that she, also, had “spidey sense,” or something, she played him like a Stradivarius violin. Her voice, her touch, her smell all worked to unwind that tight spring.

“Tell me about Michael, not Michael the soldier, but Michael, the little boy,” Rosy said in a husky voice as she sipped the glass of what ever she was drinking.

“I am afraid that Michael, the little boy, was in foster care. There is not much good to tell there. A trip down that lane and we will both be bawling.”

Rosy nodded, “Yes, I had a friend in foster care. It could be pretty rough.”

“Well that gets us back to Michael the soldier. Most of the time I don’t even know where I am. They just send me and tell me to call when there ain’t no more bad guys standing,” Michael explained. “Half the time, I have to hope they really is bad guys and not some poor gooks who pissed in some powerful jerk’s garden.”

“Well, Just Mike, tell me what you like to do, when you are not hurting bad guys and fighting the foster care system,” she asked softly. “There has to be more to life than that.”

Michael felt kind of funny. He wasn’t used to being this open. There was something about this woman. She was a lot more than he had expected. Maybe, it was because the senses he balanced his life on weren’t giving him any viibes. “I like reading classic ‘Great Books’ and looking at the sky. You know there are probably worlds up there where some soldier is being wined and dined by some beautiful princess. He is there because it might be his last chance to be with a beautiful woman,” Michael stated. “I still don’t know why she is there.”

“Is that why you are here? Is this possibly the last time you can be with a beautiful woman?” she asked.

“I already told you. I didn’t want to disappoint my homies. Any one of them would die for a chance like this. I spend time with you; they feel they all spend time with you. I just wonder what you get out of it. When I leave, do thousands of photographers flash my exit? Do thousands of reporters ask me what a night with Rosy Dee was like?”

“No, Jimmy already told me that you have to be back on base by 9:00 tomorrow morning. If you would like, he will take you out the back way and no one will see you. I just wanted a night with company of my choosing,” she explained. “This is private time, not public time for the reporters and ‘papos.’”

“Well if we are just going to talk, what are we going to talk about? I already told you that I am not much talking about foster care and if we talked about me being soldier, it would be like one of those documents you might get from the government, full of so many blanked out parts that it wouldn’t make much sense,” Michael stated.

Jimmy came in with a case of ice cold Snapple. He put a grape one by Michael’s plate and served them both from the side board that Michael hadn’t noticed. They were served a steak filet along with a serving of steamed vegetables. Dessert was a parfait of many flavors all layered in a tall glass. Just like the promises of tonight, it was a wonderful taste, but not too filling.

Michael looked up, “Now, what?” he asked.

Rosy extended her hand to Michael and rose leading him. “We have a private veranda where we can see a few of the stars. Tell me a story about those who might live out there. Do they have perfect lives without pain or worry? Tell me, soldier boy, what do you see when you look up into the sky.”

Rosy led Michael to a double couch laid out where they could gaze up into the heavens. Michael laid back and noticed that Rosy came from the other side of the couch to snuggle tightly against him. “Well, there is a soldier boy up there. He lives under a red sun. He has a woman, but he is unsure of her.”

“Does he love her?” Rosy asked.

“He doesn’t know. He was joined to her by their king. It is rumored that she is sleeping with someone on the other side in the enemies camp. The soldier isn’t sure, but if it proves true, he might be ordered to execute her. She is very beautiful and he doesn’t want anything to happen to her.”

“How very sad,” Rosy said. “What happens to them?”

“She allows her lover to slip in the gates to visit her. He brings his whole army. He betrays and murders her and her whole family including the soldier.” Michael finishes.

“That isn’t a happy story,” Rosy said petulantly.

“I have found that stories in life are not often happy,” Michael explained.

Rosy looked up at Michael and whispered, “Stories do not have to have sad endings and neither do evenings.” Rosy turned on the couch to face Michael. “Make love to me, Soldier boy, make love to me. I am not some part of a story; I am real.”

Michael looked into those green eyes. For a minute he thought, but that would be impossible. Michael had been able to read Maria like a book. One thing he had always loved about Maria was her innocence. Even after sleeping with her, she saw the world in such simple terms. Half their fights were caused because he saw danger in actions that she didn’t. Like that jerk, Billy, from band camp showing up on her doorstep, band camp from the eighth grade. Maria had been trying to get her shit together and here comes this guy acting like he had just ported out of middle school. Maria being mad at Michael, she fucks Billy the whole weekend.

Now this woman was a total mystery. Michael couldn’t read anything out of her. Michael was sure that Rosy had had her pick of guys so why pick on a soldier? Kyle had told Michael, the last time he had seen Kyle, that after Jim and Amy had been killed, Maria had just disappeared. There couldn’t be any connection. Rosy’s hair was a golden river cascading down her back and across her breasts. Maria had had a more dusty brown hair and it had been much shorter than Rosy’s when Michael had last seen her. The robe Rosy was wearing parted and there was nothing but Rosy under it. This stripped Michael from any more searching. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and wrapped them around Michael. This wasn’t what Michael had intended, but he had lost all control over everything.

Michael remembered that the last time he had seen Maria, she had been just out of her teens. This was a mature woman offering up more than any soldier boy could expect. Maria had been a virgin still in high school that first time. They both had fumbled in every act. This woman didn’t fumble at anything. She knew exactly what she was doing. Soon, their writhing bodies had kicked off his clothes and her robe to lie on the floor of the veranda. Under the stars where the princess had allowed herself and her family to be murdered, Michael possessed one of the world’s greatest treasures. Her milk white body, her golden tresses and those green eyes, for the moment belonged only to Michael. What soldier boy could want more than that? A brief shudder ran through Michael, was this his last hurrah, was this a sign that he was to die? Not pleasant thoughts for a soldier preparing to leave for battle.
Last edited by ken_r on Fri Feb 10, 2017 1:47 pm, edited 8 times in total.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 2520
Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm

Re: Michael and Maria,m&m, teen, Sep,12,2016

Post by keepsmiling7 » Tue Sep 13, 2016 1:46 pm

This is a fascinating story........full of questions and what-ifs.
You have introduced us some interesting characters........my favorite now is Miss Dee.
Now just who would that be??
And Mike, I can see him as a soldier of fortune.
Life does go on......
Can't wait to see what happens next,

User avatar
Addicted Roswellian
Posts: 391
Joined: Wed Jan 28, 2009 5:44 am
Location: Wieze, Belgium

Re: Michael and Maria,m&m, teen, Sep,12,2016

Post by Eva » Tue Sep 20, 2016 2:25 pm

Beautiful start with a lot of questions. Just as it should be...
Take a look at Eva's world

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Michael and Maria,m&m, teen, Sep,12,2016

Post by ken_r » Wed Sep 21, 2016 1:00 pm

Author's note: This is not a long story. Between bouts of being sick, I wanted to write something.
1. I wanted to find a use for the picture of Majandra sitting on the pink pillow.
2. I wanted to see Maria in two totally difference settings and make them believable.
3. I wanted to add one more break up and reunion to the M&M story

Chapter 2

Maria sat in the middle of her garden spreading manure about her plants. If she thought about it, the Maria of old might arise. Handling cow shit! Even if it had been thoroughly dried and pasteurized, the old Maria wouldn’t be able to make herself do that. As it was, this Maria told herself that it was food for her flowers. Yes, there were many things about the old Maria. Michael would have picked up on the old Maria if they had been in the same town. Now, they had actually made love and he did not recognize her.

Maria had to ask herself many times why she hadn’t allowed Michael to know who she was? First, those aliens always were so smug. Power blasts, mind walking, Maria had never discovered if they could leap tall buildings in a single bound, but they could do everything else. To the little girl in high school, they seemed to be so powerful. That brought up the second thing. She wasn’t a little girl impressed by Scoobie Doo like the night when she had given Michael her virginity. How would that soldier have reacted if, indeed, he had known that Maria DeLuca was actually now, Rosy Dee, singer, stripper and pin-up girl. For so long in high school, her body had been only for Michael. They made no secret about them having sex, but for a long time they were exclusive for each other. Who broke it first? This time it was Maria traveling back in time. There had been that weekend with Billy. Billy had been a crush from band camp when they were in the eighth grade. The camp counselors had kept them from exploring as far as they wanted. But, when Billy appeared in Roswell with her mother out of town, Maria had fallen in his arms with the abandon she had wished she had done back in the eighth grade. Maria had already given up her virginity and she and Michael were on the outs for some reason. That had been an exciting weekend. There being no counselors to stop them, they had explored everything. Then, there had been that Skin girl who Michael flirted with, Courtney. How much did he get from her? Just wanting to see how her new body fitted,
Maria was sure that Michael did everything to help her adjust it. Maria guessed they were even. Michael hadn’t been clear how much any of this meant at the time.

The great powerful alien had her in his arms and he didn’t recognize her. She must have developed powers if her own if she could hide from Michael.


Maria religiously guarded the separation between Rosy Dee and Maria DeLuca. Even Jimmy Williams didn’t know about it. He did know that from time to time, Rosy Dee disappeared and no one could find her. Archie knew that from time to time, Rosy Dee disappeared and his investigations showed that only in New York did any information show up about her. She worked and paid taxes in New York and in Nashville. There was no biography on her anywhere. Archie was asking himself, where did she come from? Who was her family? She had no regular lovers so that let bribery out. Jimmy Williams was no help, he knew even less than did Archie.

There was one person who shared knowledge about Rosy Dee. Working out of Boston, there was a lawyer named Jesse Ramirez. Even Jesse’s wife, who knew Maria DeLuca very well, didn’t know anything about Rosy Dee. Isabel Ramirez, worked in Jesse’s office many times, but she never connected the name Rosy Dee to her friend from Roswell named Maria DeLuca. To Isabel, Rosy Dee was just another name, although a rather notorious one that was a client of her husband. Jesse was the only one who handled her files, but different lawyers of the firm always fielded any actions in her name. Jesse was a slender Hispanic man with a baby faced grin and black curly hair. He was from the southwest and had moved to Boston, reportably to avoid some sort of trouble. He had met his wife, Isabel, back in Roswell, while doing intern work for her father’s law firm. It was rocky at first, Isabel barely out of high school and Jesse through college and law school, but eventually, the elder Evans family believed that Jesse was the best one to protect their daughter.

Isabel Ramirez was a remarkable woman. She had marvelous insight into the way people thought. Many times, she sat in the interviews Jesse had with his clients. It would be in private when she would give him what she saw in their psyches. Even after two children, Isabel maintained her slim appearance. Tall, brown eyed with flowing blond hair that could be changed in minutes. Everyone thought she did it with “Revlon,” but alien magic came closer to explaining her actions.

Max, nominally Isabel’s brother, (they were not really sure,) was the friend that Maria had mentioned. They all were mixed up in whatever it was called the alien abyss down in Roswell. Max’s wife, the subject of Maria’s fairyland romance was Liz Parker, now, Evans or so Maria hoped.

When Rosy Dee again showed up on stage in New York, Archie Cox who had allowed his lust to almost consume him, quickly sought out Jimmy Williams to remind him that even though that Rosy dame had given him the slip the last time, He, Archie Cox wanted to bed her in the worst way. He didn’t want no damn soldiers stepping in front of him either. Jimmy just shook his head, “I will see what I can do, Archie.”

Rosy Dee posed for “PlayBoy.” She left immediately after the show. They did a grinding six-hour photo shoot of everything the wonder woman had. Then the Rosy part, the doors were thrown open to any amateur photographer to shoot for an hour. When word spread, men borrowed, begged or stole any camera they could get. One hour shooting the blessed body of Rosy Dee. What man wouldn’t give his right arm for this chance.

Rosy Dee turned over the proceeds of the “PlayBoy” shoot to an organization for wounded veterans. PlayBoy not to be out done, doubled the value and, also, contributed their share. The soldier story was resurrected and the rumor went round that Rosy Dee had a soft spot for soldier boys. Rosy Dee immediately went abroad. In England, France, the near East, posing, singing and walking the ‘catwalk’ of high fashion, Archie again thought that he had missed another chance. Christmas came and Rosy was on the USO tour visiting camps of many soldiers far from home. It was feared that terrorist would attack, but since most of the audience was well-armed and Rosy, walking to and from her dressing room, was always guarded by volunteers.

“Hey Mike, remember that dame you dated back in New York. She is here. It says she has been almost to the front, as if this war had a real front. You gonna try to look her up?” they asked.

“Naw, look fellows, she was just a dame who got her rocks off with soldier boys. I doubt she would even remember me. I don’t want either of us to be embarrassed by trying to rekindle something that probably never existed.”

Michael went back to cleaning his rifle. He did this daily so many times that he could probably do it in the dark. That was the point. The rifle was something that he completely understood. Memories like he had of Rosy Dee or that other girl, Maria DeLuca, were just that, memories to keep until he bit the big one. They were for him alone.

Michael mused, how did a woman like Rosy Dee stand this heat. Michael and the other soldiers just treated the weather like another enemy they had to face and over come. A smile rose and Michael thought, of course, she didn’t wear much clothing. Maybe, she was cooler than the rest of them. Michael’s mind drifted back to Roswell. There was that one fall when Roswell had a heat wave. Maria had taken off her bra and was just wearing a loose blouse. He almost lost it then. Only fear of discovery kept him from ripping that blouse away and giving way to what he was sure she wanted. Maria knew that he was an alien, but at that time, what aliens could do was still a mystery, even to the aliens. In those days, Maria would complain about everything. That was her way. She wasn’t that weak of a character, her complaints were just announcements that she was not to be taken lightly.


The call came down at the next USO stop. “Hey, Mike the roaches want to get to your woman,” someone called out.

“She ain’t my woman, but any gal that gives of her time to help soldiers deserves the best in protection. Get your kit; we are moving out.” Michael could already hear the choppers warming up. They would spy out the area and make sure that when Rosy Dee landed, there would be no one left except friendlies.

That was the trouble, the enemy could give as many wrong messages as they wanted, but groups like Michael’s had to see everyone of them as a actual threat. The one they were not really sharp on would be the one that would get them all killed. No one really knew if friendlies actually even existed.

The black helicopters, the scourge of conspiracy theorist, would land them in the dead of night. New Mexico was full of stories of these choppers flying among the cows of the small ranches. Of course they were not true. Or, were they? The dark vehicles were not mutilating cows but they were practicing completely black landings.

With their dark light goggles, Michael and his men quietly moved out. To them it was as bright as day. They had only a few hours to make it to cover and then to plan how they would find the enemy. This time, Michael’s spidy sense was acute and working well. He expected to have things well under control before the lady, Rosy Dee stood half naked in front of hundreds of troop, a lady like her deserved protection.

Michael sensed something in the highlands to the south. He sent Gregorio, his second and a small detachment to check it out. It was about an hour later when he heard a cryptic click on the radio and Gregorio whispered, “’bout twenty boogies in a camp. They don’t look too anxious to more out. Look like grasshoppers to me. No roaches in sight.”

They all hoped that this conversation would remain not understandable to any casual listener. Michael sat out reaching with his mind to make contact, any contact. The grasshoppers or farmers were all he could sense. “Make back to the hive,” he stated on his radio. Vampires, which was Michael’s group code name, didn’t like to move much in the day. They would have to wait and keep up visual sighting on the small outpost below. With their equipment they were unbeatable in the night, but fighting in the day, they would just be another, but capable, party. Later that morning, Michael picked up a message, “Wasp and bees moving in.”

He had to chuckle, what would Rosy make of her code name “wasp.” She did have a remarkably toned body, and that tight waist.

It wasn’t until afternoon when the Vampires heard noise in the outpost. There came a cry over the radio. “Vampire, Roaches were already here.”

Michael gave out a yell and the Vampires were on the move. They had one of the blackest choppers in the field. This one was almost silent and had armor and weapons that clearly were able to destroy masses. They came in low and fast, the biggest problem the mechanics had was pulling leaves and branches out of the skids.

They heard the noise of the firefight in the distance. Michael led his vampires wide around the city. “They will escape into the hills the fastest way possible. The firefight is taking place. They don’t need more meat for the grinder. Groups like the Vampires had to break from regular military protocol. They weren’t trained, equipped or prepared to fight a normal battle. Commanders would request groups like them as if they were status symbols. Then, they would want them to plug up holes in the battle line. That was a waste of valuable lives, fantastically expensive resources and, usually, got nothing accomplished. The commanders would then bad-mouth these special troops who couldn’t do a damned thing. Each group had their specialty. Michael’s unit was the night. They trained with night vision, they fought with night vision. They were, what they were called; Vampires who ruled the night.

Michael knew that he would hate it and hate himself, if Rosy Dee got killed. But, he knew that getting himself killed was not the answer. The Vampires would wait until nightfall and then make their move. If Rosy Dee wasn’t killed in the city and was taken prisoner, she had a better than 50-50 chance of being rescued by the unit. Michael’s unit would proceed like they always did. A unit of Roaches moving out of a firefight usually strung itself out. There were the wounded, the looters and those who just had lost their taste for close fighting bringing up the rear.

One by one the enemy would disappear, their bones reclaimed by the ants, insects and vermin of the country. Vampires, the silent killers of the sky, took them out one by one. Michael always had a close feeling towards the vermin. They had a job to do, just as he and the other Vampires.

One of their group always had a small garden hand rake, much like the one Maria had used in her flower garden. This trooper would follow the clean up using the rake to make two punchure wounds in the throat of each fallen or wounded terrorist. Groups like Michael’s depended on fear. Michael didn’t believe in real vampires, but give him six months and the locals would.

It wasn’t long after sunset when the scouts reported, the roaches were less then a quarter mile ahead. Already several stragglers had been sent to meet their maker and then on to the insects. Before passing one Roach informed them that there was one woman and a few farmers being ushered to the “People’s Republic of Freedom.”
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 2520
Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm

Re: Michael and Maria,m&m, teen, Sep,21,2016

Post by keepsmiling7 » Wed Sep 21, 2016 1:19 pm

Sorry to hear you haven't been well Ken. But we are glad to see you back with us now.

I must admit that I am surprised Michael didn't recognize Maria......
Sure it would have been easier back in Roswell, but still!

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Michael and Maria,m&m, teen, Sep,21,2016

Post by ken_r » Wed Oct 12, 2016 11:45 am

Chapter 3

One other weapon that the vampires controlled was intelligence. Four persons were sitting in a small house in a small town in central Texas. The only thing noticeable about this house was its tremendous electric bill. The power company came in with a thousand-amp line. That was five times the size of a normal house. Most of the houses in this part of Texas only had the old hundred-amp lines and some even less. No one paid much attention to that house. No one knew that besides the thousand-amp line they also had a powerful underground generator system. The only worry was if a tornado came by, everything in the country side would be gone except for that little house. It probably could withstand a hit by a nuclear weapon. There were two men and two high school boys in the house at all times. They changed out three times daily and held 4 week duty shifts. They were paid at levels that even the promise of a month at the whorehouse couldn’t budge them. The vampires were not the only group they offered their services to. At the moment they were tracking a group of men. Correction, make it one lady and a group of men. “Vampire, we have made the signature of the roaches. We have a few mosquitoes in the sky and they say that besides the roaches, there are a few grasshoppers and one wasp. No bees in sight. The grasshoppers and the wasp are moving pretty fast so we must assume they are unhurt. The cherubs have managed to get one mosquito close, but we haven’t got any of the conversations translated. The cherubs are good; they can fly a mosquito through a needle’s eye on trajectory alone.” The “cherubs” or high school kids had all been arrested for crimes against humanity such as Illegal flying of toy drones, hacking into the school’s grade data bank, then they were given carte blanche to do what they did best. They were unstoppable.

Michael knew that the two men were technology experts. The cherubs were good and they enjoyed the freedom of their job. The kids knew that four years as a cherub would get you enough tuition for most four year colleges plus if you got bored, you could always fall back to old habits.

“Tell every one that we are grounding our MixMaster and the Martha White won’t be in the sky until morning. We would like to get this nailed down by then.” Michael relayed the information that would put many programs in motion. The MixMaster was their almost silent chopper and the Martha Whites were the soldiers who would be held to only the highest protocol. The mosquitoes, small drones controlled by satellite would get the best intelligence they could. Michael was always amazed at the toy like look of some of the most sophisticated equipment in the country. The biggest enemy the mosquitoes had was the full sized aircraft. Even when the mosquitoes had the right of way, many of the old pilots couldn’t accept a war supplied by Mattel and fought by 16 year-old high school dropouts. Of course, these old farts were the Martha Whites. They fought prim and proper.

“Michael, “ his name called despite protocol, “It looks as if they are going to cross the border.”

Cross the border, that was the one incident, which the politicians thought would cause a hot war. Hot war, what in the hell did they think this was? Ask those with Rosy Dee. How hot did they think this one was?

“Salas, get ready to set up a roadblock. Manage to let the big boys and their prisoner get through. Sean, save what grasshoppers you can. They don’t think there are any bees, so Rosy’s crew is either dead or back at camp. If only a few get away, once across the border, I can take them out myself. Heinz, once you mop up, get everybody back to the hive and report me missing. I will get back with you when the job is done.


Rosy was glad she took those runs everyday. This was the marathon she had been preparing herself for all her life. One or two farmers had fallen back and they were ruthlessly slaughtered. She wasn’t worried about rape. Rape she could understand. Rosy was worried about who these people were and what were their final plans.

Rosy, like most tourists, let her drivers worry about where they were. Now, she wished she had paid more attention to the maps given them by the USO. The sun in the morning was on her right so they must be running north. What was to the north? Come to think of it, the little country they were in was about the only non-enemy in this region. It had been explained somewhere that this was why this war was important.

Something was bothering her captors. Good, worry them into early graves if possible. Rosy kept hearing a word, which sounded much like “Vampire.” That was impossible, they must be using some native word that sounded like the English word “vampire.” At one break, she tried to talk to the four remaining farmers. Rosy had wondered why they had been taken also. Sure take a white woman like Rosy, she would probably worth a pile of money. Rosy could just see old Archie Cox bidding on her. Archie would finance the whole war, just to get his hands on someone like Rosy. Then, she learned why they had taken the farmers. They had come to an open field where they were left with no choice they had to cross. One of the farmers had been dragged out, then he was ordered to cross first. Rosy didn’t need to speak the language to understand its meaning. The farmer started crossing and the terrost started shooting at the man to force him to keep going. He kept going until he hit the mine. Well now they had a path almost cross the field and they quickly started another farmer to finish the path. Rosy shuddered for the farmers more than she did for her own safety. They were being used to clear the mine fields.

Rosy tried to ask the farmers about the word “vampire. They all shook their heads. Either they had no more idea than did she or Rosy wasn’t getting through to them. Rosy’s fantasy mind took off. What if there were really looking for a vampire? Maybe, white woman’s blood was a delicacy. Rosy remembered when she was Maria that in high school, there were some of the richer kids who pretended they only drank Austrian or Dutch beer. As the object of intended seduction, Maria had been offered these beers at parties. Maria wasn’t much of a beer drinker, but she really couldn’t tell the difference from the expensive drinks and the Coors or Budweiser that the rest of the kids drank. She was sure that her blood wouldn’t be anymore of a premium than any other. Why were they so worried bout this vampire?


Michael heard in the distance the racket of a horrific firefight. He had already crossed the border and was laying in an intercept for those who escaped, hopefully holding Rosy. Occasionally on his own cryptic line to Texas, he received word that the mosquitoes had seen evidence of a woman with the fleeing terrorists.

It was pretty rugged country so Michael paid close attention when the cherubs announced that there was a cabin back up one blind canyon. Well Michael could play the same game. The terrorist had already been in the city before Rosy had arrived Michael would rush to the location and hold up in the canyon where the cabin was located to see if it was their destination. Michael headed deep in the canyon to hold up in some rocks while the “archangels” and “Cherubs” followed the terrorist in.

Rosy had trained for a marathon, but the terrorist had entered her into the pony express. When they entered the cabin she fell on the floor the same as the farmers in total exhaustion. In her semi-conscious state she heard over and over the word “vampire.”

Now she had another problem. One of the terrorist, a brute of a man, was pointing at her and arguing with the others. He wanted something and it had to do with her. The others were shaking their heads in the universal language of no! Rosy could imagine what it was he wanted. She had always said that she could handle any man; well, she might have to now, prove it. The terrorist prepared food. The one kept arguing about something to do with Rosy. The others kept saying the word “vampire” and pointing outside. The big man beat his chest and with guttural utterings, that could only be swear words, letting the others know that he had no care for whatever that vampire thing was.

The cabin was built against the flat face of a cliff. There was no way for the prisoners to get out, except through the door they came in. The farmers and Rosy sat each holding their own counsel as they trembled. The arguing in the front room increased in volume. Finally, the big man with a terrible snarl turned his back on his fellows and burst into the room where Rosy and the farmers were waiting. Whatever they had had for supper, it had been greasy and smelly. The man groped for Rosy with hands, which hadn’t been washed since he had been a child. His rotting teeth and greasy beard added to the revulsion she felt towards him. He grabbed her shirt, such as it was, and ripped it from her body. Then, he held her throat as he groped inside her pants to rip them down like a banana peal. At that moment, all Hell broke loose in the front room.

Flash-bangs were becoming universal to announce grand openings especially if those already in the building are objecting. Flash-bangs have a high explosion, but it is the speed of the explosion that makes it so valuable. Sound is nothing, but an airwave pounding into your ear way. The flash-bang creates its airwave going off all at once. That is coupled with a sun-like flash, which temporarily blinds and disorients. The follow-up of machine gun bullets settled the problems of those in the front room. The horny brute was still coming for Rosy when she saw the point of a blade appear coming from his chest. Blood spurted everywhere. As the body slid down the now lowered blade, Rosy saw the bloody visage, that if she hadn’t already known him, would have pushed her over the brink. The metallic smell of blood and sharp stench of nitrocellulose was every where. Michael bent to wipe off his blade on the clothes of the fallen man. “We gotta leave quickly,” he announced.

Michael turned to the farmers and in a similar language to what she had heard them jabbering, he told them something. They scattered. Michael ripped some blankets and made a sort of pullover for Rosy. Then he glanced about the cabin to see if there was anything of value and concluding there wasn’t so he took Rosy by the arm and they fled into the night.

Rosy would have stated that she didn’t have an ounce of energy left after the grueling march during the day, but with Michael leading it seemed that she was given totally new life. Michael shared water with her several times and when she felt the urge to go, he led her into a corpse of small trees. Michael chewed a strange food, which he also shared, Pemmican. It was a mixture of tallow, jerky and berries all pounded and dried as best as possible. Michael tried to set a steady pace, but Rosy clearly, was near exhaustion. Michael had a satellite phone, with which he talked to someone from time to time. “Vampire to Lone Star, I have the wasp, the grasshoppers scattered, no bees in evidence so check for the survivors back at camp. We are headed for Never, Never Land so keep the cherubs and archangels sharp.”

“What is that all about?” Rosy asked.

“It is sort of a code we use. I am sure that any sophisticated unit can easily break it. It keeps names off the airwaves and helps us to stay focused. I am Vampire. My unit is the vampires. Roaches are the enemy, grasshoppers are farmers, cherubs are the teen hackers we use and the archangels are the drone pilots and communication guys,” Michael explained.

“Oh,” Rosy said. “Who is wasp and who are the bees?” she inquired.

Michael stuttered for a second, “Y…You are wasp and your crew are the bees. I didn’t make that up. Someone high up in intelligence did.”

Rosy nodded, then chuckled a bit. She chewed on her pemmican and kept plodding on. Michael could tell that she was about to break. “Lone Star, we need a rabbit hole. Preferably, one we can lay up in for a couple days.”

It was about 30 minutes until Michael’s request was answered. “Vampire, there is a small cottontail layup two kilometers up a side canyon. Satellite witnesses say no one has been there recently”

Rosy hadn’t followed the conversation closely because she was ready to drop.
The sight of the cabin, lost behind the rocks, looked like a bit or heaven. Rosy quickly dropped on a bunk and soon was out like a light. Michael covered her with a light blanket he had in his kit and proceeded to scout the area and then, prepare some sort of supper.

When Rosy woke up, it was dark and for several minutes she was disoriented. Michael grabbed her and whispered, “Rosy, it’s all right. We are safe for the moment.”

Rosy looked around. Yes they seemed alright, there were no, how did Michael say it, no roaches? She didn’t know what it was, but there was something hot and pungent coming from a pot Michael had cooking on a low fire in the corner of the cabin. “Where did you come from?” was the first thought in her mind. Later her thinking was that she might have meant his alien status. So far, Michael still hadn’t seen Maria DeLuca in the international model of Rosy Dee.

“We were assigned to guard you. Problem is, that it is difficult to tell roaches from friendlies. The roaches were already in the city. They were a sleeper cell, waiting for some big project. You turned up and they thought a capture might have great value.”

“Why can’t you call in one of those black helicopters and zoom us out of here? Rosy asked.

“The roaches crossed a border. They can get away with it, because they are poor downtrodden masses fighting the great saten. Capturing you was justified, in their eyes, since you represent the decadent Americans. Me crossing the border after you is an act of war. We have to get out of here to a friendly country without any officials acknowledging our existence,” Michael explained.

“That doesn’t seem fair. I was dragged here against my will and you were trying to rescue me. What were you supposed to do?” Rosy petulantly whined.

“Fairness has nothing to do with how the world works. Officials would rather see both of us dead than try to reason out cause and affect so for now, you and me is all we got. Of course, I do have my support team,” Michael stated.

The nap had done Rosy a world of good. Now, what she needed was for her body to heal itself. What did Max always say? “The body has to learn how to heal itself.” It had been a long time since Rosy, or rather Maria, had seen Max. They all went their own way, Max and Liz heading off to college under assumed names, Isabel and Jesse back east to his law firm and Michael and Maria, well, what had happened to them? One day, Maria got a chance to go on a singing tour and Michael just faded away. She didn’t hear from him again until that night when she saw him in the audience. Maria had been sure that he would see through her that night, but it turned out that she had powers of her own. She could read him a little, but she, also, was able to shut him out of her mind altogether. Now when he was risking all, it didn’t seem like a good time for confession. Michael never did take well to surprises.

Maria was relaxing for the first time in weeks. Especially for the first time since she had been captured. “Tell me just Mike, don’t you have a girl friend, somewhere?” she asked.

“If I had had a girl friend, I wouldn’t have come to you that night. I would have sent Salas or maybe Giorgio. Probably should have anyway. They are much better lovers than I could ever be.” Michael stated.

“Well, I maybe can understand that. Tell me did you ever have a girl friend?” Rosy dug a little deeper.

Michael surprised even himself. He started talking, something he had never done before. “There was one years ago, when I was in high school.”

“What was she like,” Rosy asked.

“Why all the questions; what do you care about things that happened to me?” Michael asked angrily.

“Michael, I need something to keep my mind from flipping out. You said foster care wasn’t a good subject, obviously talking about what you do in the service isn’t open for discussion, so all I have left is a scrap about a teen boy and his girl. Please, Michael help me here,” Rosy pleaded.

“Well, we both had it pretty rough. She didn’t have a father and that bothered her a lot. It made her mistrust boys and men altogether. We hung out together, made out a lot and messed around until I was sure that I would have to leave town. I didn’t want to leave town without having made love to her. So that was it,” Michael stopped.

Rosy wasn’t about to let him drop it there. “So, just Mike, what happened next?” she demanded.

“Neither of us had any adult role models to follow. She wanted some kind of security and I thought all I wanted was sex. We used sex to form a relationship. Our group had angered some important officials, so they rained down on us and our group broke up,” Michael concluded at least as far as he was going to tell a stranger.

“Tell me more about her. Was she pretty, what did you like about her besides she gave you sex?” Rosy pushed again.

“At the time, I thought she was very pretty. Now, I think cute with the potential to become a beautiful woman might be more accurate. What I liked about her was that she was an open book. I could read everything about her. I knew her likes, her dislikes, what I thought she wanted out of life. Maybe, that is what broke us apart in the end. I knew that with me she could never achieve any of those dreams.”

Rosy thought, “Michael I am here. Look, I am the same Maria grown up. I achieved those dreams. Now, I think I left something behind.” But, Rosy carefully thought this is not the time to test to see if Michael would take her back. “Michael, make love to me. You don’t have anyone to stop you so take me to bed,” she asked.

“Who would I be bedding? Rosy Dee the woman I rescued? Would this be partial payment for what you think I did? Lady, I just followed orders. I rescue people, that is what I do,” Michael responded angrily.

“No, just Mike. I want someone of my choice to hold me. Maybe, I am like that little girl. I want some security and this is the only way I know to get it,” Rosy pleaded. She still kept her mind closely shut to Michael’s probing as she folded into his arms.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 2520
Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm

Re: Michael and Maria,m&m, teen ch3 ,oct, 12 ,2016

Post by keepsmiling7 » Thu Oct 27, 2016 11:55 am

Love the secret codes.....vampires, roaches, etc.
Still can't believe that Michael can't see through Maria's alias.
Maybe she'll soon give her self away,

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Michael and Maria,m&m, teen ch3 ,oct, 12 ,2016

Post by ken_r » Fri Nov 11, 2016 1:53 pm

The story is complete, somewhat to my satisfaction. Writing and editing for both Carole and myself are harder. I don't want to quit writing, it helps me a lot. I will just have to be satisfied that i can't post as fast as I would like

Chapter 4

The garden had special meaning for Maria. She had memories, both good and bad to sort out. Was Michael right? Had she been using sex as a teenager to find security? This last time with the grown up Michael, the security of his strong arms, the assured feeling that he would get her through even against opposing governments had been what she wanted. Every minute when they were together, Michael had cautioned her that she had to follow everything he said exactly. If Michael had known who she really was, Maria would have seen reason for his concern. As it was, Michael just didn’t trust her or any other woman, for that matter, in situations of their safety. Maria as Rosy Dee slept tightly in Michael’s arms every night. Michael did not bring up again her reasoning for holding on to him so tightly.


Rosy Dee was now dressed in the robes of an Arab woman. She was heavily veiled and Michael had cautioned her several times to say nothing. When they met anyone, she respectfully stayed a step behind Michael, an act that galled the old Maria very much. More than once, Michael had pulled her small body behind his to shield her from danger as he dispatched what she had learned to call roaches. One time, he pulled her face tightly against his chest to shield her from what he was doing. That didn’t matter as the old Maria well remembered the smell of ozone before and after the aliens let loose power blasts. The old Maria had never been very good around blood, her blood or someone else’s. With Michael, Rosy was beginning to feel that the sight of running blood was something natural.

They did hold up in a cabin just across the border into the Free World. Michael said that he had to arrange their passage into someplace that would be believable. Rosy, as Maria, kept trying to surface; she kept hoping that the week they spent there were a ploy of Michael’s to further enjoy the charms of the famous Rosy Dee. She did this to the point of even becoming a bit jealous of Rosy Dee.


The only way Jimmy, her producer, could get in touch with Rosy was by using her lawyer, Mr. Ramirez. “Jesse, I have to get in touch with her,” he pleaded

Jesse Ramirez just looked at the man and replied, “Mr. Williams, I have informed Ms. Dee of your concerns and she has not answered me back. Until she does, you have to figure that she is still getting over her ordeal. After being captured and the harrowing experience of her escape, you shouldn’t wonder that she needed some time off.”

“Jesse, you don’t understand. If she will do a thing with Archibald Cox, he will finance her shows for the next year. If I could just talk to her, I am sure I could convince her of the importance. She can recuperate later. Now is business.” Archie Cox had offered Jimmy a huge fortune if he would only produce Rosy Dee for one great show and make sure that he, Archie Cox, had access to her after the show. Maria had figured that this was the situation and she was just too tired to fight Jimmy and Archie off. Maybe later.

Maria was busy planting tulip bulbs. Plant them in the summer and fall and next spring there would be beds of flowers to welcome her. Maria wasn’t sure of what she wanted to do, but one thing she was sure of was she wanted was to be in Roswell when they bloomed. That little weasel Jimmy had probably sold out to that bastard Cox. The only thing that stood between Maria and the intentions of that Archie Cox was the law firm of Jesse Ramirez. Maria trusted Jesse, but somehow she would feel so much safer if Michael had been standing by.


That last night in Germany, Maria or, rather Rosy, didn’t know much geography, but she cold spin a globe and they were a long distance from where she had been last Christmas. In interviews, Rosy would laugh and say, I don’t know how we got here; men were chasing us and Michael, my protector, kept me moving.

As they lay together that last night, Rosy, more than once, wanted to tell Michael who she was. After all they had been through together, she couldn’t bring herself to the point of allowing anything to pop her bubble. Michael was beginning to mean as much to Rosy as he had to Maria. She laughed. Split into two women and both of them loved Michael.


Maria had been at the nursery buying lilac bushes. She intended to have that sweet fragrance after her tulips were over. Once more, Maria was determined to be in Roswell when the blooms happened. She had to remove her sunglasses to write a check. The clerk had been in the service and he remembered the face, which then, he had called angelic. Now the same face was in Roswell and calling herself Maria DeLuca. If that is what she wanted, it was okay with him. He did post on Facebook that he had seen Rosy Dee in Roswell. Maybe, she had been carried there by aliens.

“Hey Archie, that reward for any information on Rosy Dee still hold,” Jimmy Williams called out.

“Yeah, what do you have?” Archie rudely replied.
Well, Roswell is a pretty crazy town, the aliens and all. But, there was a Facebook posting of a soldier saying he thinks he saw Rosy Dee at a Home Depot store. It might be worth checking out.” Jimmy could almost feel the reward money. If Rosy was quitting her tours, he deserved something for all the time he put up with her.

Michael was preparing to leave the military. It had been some time since he had rescued Rosy Dee and he hadn’t felt right about her since. The Vampires were splitting up and with transfers, promotions and other things, it wasn’t going to be the same. Michael had trained with some great guys and he wished the best for all of them. Michael had lost touch with almost all of the group from Roswell. He knew where to find Isabel because she hid in plain sight under the protection of her husband Jesse. There were a lot of ass holes in the justice department, but no one was stupid enough to fuck with the Evans-Ramirez Law firm. Jesse kept Philip Evans name on the door because Philip had a lot of respect in many circles.

Michael had received a letter from Isabel. “Mike, if you are serious about quitting the army, I need to see you about friends from the past.” The letter read.

Ever since Rosy, Michael didn’t see the army like he had before. Once he mustered out, Michael flew to Boston. The only friend he could think of was Max and Max would have support from his brother-in-law and sister, and Maria. Michael supposed that, as usual, Maria would have no one.

Once in Boston, the Ramirez family went all out in entertaining him. “You should go see Max and Liz. They are living under a different name and teaching in a college. Right now, you need to access your feelings for Maria. How much of a shock can you take?” Isabel asked.

“I don’t know. Would Maria even want to see me again”? Michael mused.

“Maria has grown up from the little girl in high school,” Isabel stated.

“How so?” Michael asked.

“She is a singer and a model. She is well known in the entertainment world,” Isabel could be infuriating when she wanted.

“Did she get her dream?” Michael asked.

“That, you would have to ask her,” Isabel responded. She hesitated, Michael knew that there was something more. “You have met her at least twice.”

“Izzy, I haven’t seen Maria since Roswell. I saw that I was holding her from her dream. I had to be the strong one to leave,” Michael replied.

“Yet, you spent the night with her and ran off to her rescue in the Near East,” Isabel stated.

“You don’t mean…,” Michael began.

Yes, Michael, Maria is Rosy Dee. She was just a little kid when you were sleeping together back in Roswell. Didn’t you watch Max with Liz? Didn’t you see that we infect those we are closest to? Maria has many powers that we have. I am surprised that something didn’t happen when she was captured. So far, all we see in her is mental powers. She can’t mind warp as good as Tess. She can’t heal like Max. I don’t know if she can mind walk like I do, but she is learning. She needs someone to guide her, if for no other reason than she might stir up the whole alien phobia that we had before,” Isabel related.

“You know that I spent several weeks with Rosy getting out of that country. I never had a single vibe the whole time that she might be Maria. Our experiences were a lot more harrowing than we let on to the press. I would have thought that I would have read something in her,” Michael complained.

“That is just it, Michael. Whatever power she got from you is controlled by her own persona. Maria can shut down so tightly that even you could not feel her in the heat of passion. Maria is indeed a powerful person,” Isabel explained.

‘Why didn’t she tell me who she was that first night?” Michael asked his anger growing.

“Maria has always had her own insecurities. With you, I am sure they are even stronger. As she sees it, you left her, just like her father. She probably loves you, but she is not sure of your intentions. She isn’t about to allow you to know how strong she is.” Jesse interjected.

“What should I do now?” Michael asked.

“That depends on how you feel now. Now, you feel anger. If you express that anger to Maria, she will close you out completely. Some people she worked with are going to put pressure on her. They both want money from her and one of them wants her body, also,” Jesse started.

“Is one of them that prissy little producer?” Michael asked.

Jesse laughed, “See Isabel, I told you I wasn’t the only one who thought that Jimmy had a problem. Yes, Michael, Jimmy Williams has double crossed Rosy and is being paid a fortune so Archibald Cox can brag about laying the great Rosy Dee.”

“Do you want me to kill them?” Michael asked.

“No Michael, you are through with that we hope. Maria needs protection that she doesn’t even realize. You need to go back to Roswell and try to rekindle your relationship. Of course, you must block your mind completely. It is important that she doesn’t know that you know who she is, yet. Maybe, you will have to wait until she tells you her story,” Isabel explained.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Michael and Maria,m&m, teen ch4 ,Nov 11 ,2016

Post by ken_r » Mon Dec 05, 2016 2:19 pm

Chapter 5

The tulips were gone. The lilac bushes were leafing out and promised a good return next spring. Several rose bushes had made their bloom and now were sustaining transplant shock. She hoped that soon they would continue their bloom with pruning and careful feeding. Maria had several flats of marigolds that she would soon carry to the freshly spaded and groomed bed. She had planted Zinnias against the south wall. She had to water every day, but the results would be worth the work and expense. If Maria left to go back on stage, she had arranged for Freddie Salas to groom her garden. Freddie did odd jobs for Maria and she trusted him.

In the back of her little Ranger pickup, Maria still had a fifty-pound bag of MiracleGro. If Freddie walked by she would ask for help, otherwise she would drag the bag to fall into `` a little wagon to wrestle over to where she needed it.

Maria felt the heat beat down. She was sweating. This was nothing like the heat in the near east. She wasn’t tied or being dragged behind an army speaking a language that she couldn’t understand to some destination that only her imagination could expand into her terror. She wasn’t crowding behind Michael as he blasted those he called roaches shooting their way to safety. All in all, this heat was a pleasure. A pleasure that she could feel, so close had been her life exposed to danger.

She had saved every letter sent by Jimmy Williams pleading for her to return to the stage. She also had saved the implications he made that being a little nice to Archibald Cox could make her a bunch of money.

Being nice to that slime ball meant spending a night covered in spit, blood and semen. It meant being pummeled by a man who had no idea or care about a girl’s feelings, arrogant bastard who couldn’t measure up to the shadow of a certain soldier. Michael might have been rough to Maria in the guise of Rosy Dee, but that was to yank her out of the line of fire. Maria didn’t know if Michael ever loved Rosy Dee, but even holding her hand showed more emotion and endearment than anything she could receive from Archie Cox.

Thinking about either Archie or Jimmy rated an extra hard jab with her planting trowel. Maria decided that thinking of those two rated spreading some more manure. She walked over to her pickup dragging the little wagon and was preparing to pull the bag out of the pickup bed. You had to be so careful not to tear the plastic bag. A torn bag would loose half of her plant food before she got it to the flowers. Two strong arms reached across in front of her and grasped the bag like it was a feather pillow. “Where do you want me to put it?” the husky voice asked.

Maria looked up and saw Michael. He was still wearing combat boots, but they were topped by levies and a polo shirt. Maria mentally pulled in all of her loose thoughts. This was not the way she wanted to announce Rosy Dee to him. Maria finally got the confidence to pull back and say, “Michael, where did you come from?”

“I just got out of the army. Things were changing. There wasn’t room for me there, anymore. I am just drifting through Roswell to see if anybody is still here.”

Maria straightened a stray curl of hair from her eyes and said, “I am still here and that is about all.”

Maria could have bit off her tongue. She had implied that she had been in Roswell the whole time. That might be harder to explain if she found herself explaining being Rosy Dee. Michael pointed to the flowerbeds against the house, “I guess you don’t have fellows crawling in your windows anymore.”

Maria frowned, “No, and f````ellows, if they want to see me, come to the front door and knock politely.”

Michael laughed. That was something that Maria had never seen him do very much. As a youth, Michael was way too intense to laugh much and over in the Near East, life was way too serious and tenuous to allow much laughter. “I guess having fellows come to the door and ask for Ms. DeLuca is one of the rewards of being an adult.”

“And, you, where were you going walking down the street in front of my house?” Maria asked.

“I was going nowhere. You want some help or maybe, company with your planting?” Michael asked.

There were a thousand ways Maria could have answered Michael’s question. Later, Maria was so thankful that she chose the least threatening and ultimately the most wanted answer, “Sure, grab a spade over there and help me plant these marigolds.”

She and Michel toiled for almost a half hour in silence. Finally Michael asked, “Seen anything of Kyle recently?”

“No, his father’s death broke him up pretty badly. I heard he took off to work on some oil line. Jim and my mom, Amy, were parents to him. He became too lost, I guess,” Maria intoned.

Michael said after a few minutes, “Yeah, his real mom, the alien abyss, Tess and finally loosing everything else he held dear probably pushed him too far. I would like to see him. I think we might owe him more than we realize.”

Maria’s mind was still racing to cover up her thoughts. She didn’t know how good Michael was as an adult in reading what people felt. He hadn’t recognized her as Rosy Dee and probably didn’t pry too hard into her thoughts. “How long are you going to stay in Roswell?” Maria asked, later to think that this wasn’t that safe of a question.

“I don’t know,” Michael gave as a totally open ended answer.

They worked in silence until Michael leaned against the house and asked, “Is the Crashdown still here?”

“Yes, but it’s a Mexican theme restaurant now,” Maria answered. Her mind raced again, a topic of restaurants implied a dinner date. Was she up to this?

“What about Señior Chow?” Michael inquired.

“Yes, his kids are still running the place,” Maria replied.

Again, Michael laughed, “So it is a choice between chili and chili and chow mein.”

“Michael, Roswell is a lot bigger now. I am sure that you could find many other places to eat if that is what you want,” Maria said petulantly. She shouldn’t have felt that way. Michael did not intend to be condescending. The problem was Maria didn’t know where this discussion of restaurants was going.

“Aw, Maria, I didn’t mean anything. I was going to suggest you let me buy you dinner. I guess the thought narrowed to places in both of our pasts.” Michael waited for several minutes. “Well, what about it?”

“Well Okay, we have to water the plants so drag that hose over here and help me. Let me go in and wash up. Then, we will see where we end up.” Maria should have been more careful and after saying this, she looked at Michael to see if he took any hidden meaning.

Michael’s face was a perfect statue and he asked, “Could I come in to wash my hands? They are pretty dirty after playing in the garden?”

This time it was Maria who gave a strained laugh. Michael inside her house had totally different meanings than the thought of Michael outside. He did calm her thoughts as he picked up his heavy duffel bag and stowed it behind her porch swing. He was coming in to wash up and use the restroom and that was all. His world was wrapped up in that duffel bag so coming in for an extended time was still negotiable.

Before coming into her house, Michael had picked up a clean shirt from his duffel bag. Maria’s mind was still racing as she heard him in the bathroom the water splashing and then, he returned. If only she had told him before that she was Rosy Dee, things would have been so much easier. No, she had taken a roll and it was for her to play it out. Michael did say, “I will wait for you on the porch.” That gave Maria more thinking room, she wasn’t sure that it made things that much easier.

Michael outside, Maria went into her bedroom to select her clothes then to shower. As she felt the water on her naked body she kept thinking, he was just on the other side of the wall. Maria again found baggy pants and a over sized sweater. She would tell Michael, but she didn’t want him to have the advantage of recognizing her himself. She found the horned rim glasses and hoped her disguise would work. That whole time in the shower, Maria thought of the days they had spent crossing those lands in the Near East. As she had run her hands down her body, she could almost imagine that Michael was standing behind her. If she could only be sure that he wouldn’t get mad at her deceit.

They chose Senior Chow’s place. Chow’s relative had come up from Mexico many years ago. The Chow family had established restaurants every where they had traveled. They had survived by adapting. Now, in Roswell, it was the Chows who presented Chinese food with a Mexican flavor. The Roswellians were very proud of this uniqueness.

Briefly the words flickered through Maria’s mind, “In another time or another world we might go out.” There were no ‘papos, no reporters, no one who believed that Maria was anything other than the Roswell native she appeared to be. Rosy was taking her soldier out to dinner, but he didn’t seem to know that it was her.

Michael in that other world said his foster childhood was off limits. He couldn’t talk much about his army life. They surely couldn’t talk about adventures in the Near East. “Have you seen Isabel?”

“Yes, I stopped there right after getting out of the army.”

“Did you see her kids?”

“No, I just stopped by Jesse’s office.”

“Have you heard from anyone else of the old gang?”

“No, I have been moving around in some pretty bad places. I doubt anyone could contact me even if they wanted to.”

Then, Michael led off, “I am sorry about your mom.”

“Yes, it has been a big blow to me. As I said to Kyle when he left, you don’t know what you have until you loose it.”

The conversation stopped for several minutes. That last thing Maria had said hit both of them. ‘You don’t know what you had until you loose it.’ Would the world traveler like Michael come back to the dowdy little woman he saw in the garden. Maybe he would if he saw her as Rosy Dee. As Maria DeLuca waif of Roswell, Maria wasn’t that sure.

He walked her home and on the door step he leaned over to kiss her. Maria was trembling so badly that it was a wonder she didn’t fall off the porch. “Maria, I will be around for a few days, maybe, we can do this again.” And, Michael picked up his duffle bag and was gone.

Maria lay in bed sobbing. Why hadn’t she been truthful that first night? So what if she had danced in burlesque lines. So what if she had appeared in swim suit reviews. Maria had long ago come to terms with her body, but she feared Michael’s censure more than she would her mother’s. Why was that? All the time she had known Michael, she saw that he judged on actions, on humanity, not an arbitrary set of morals. On their trek, he had mentioned the work she did for the soldiers. He had admired her for that. Now, would he believe she had tried to make a fool of him? Would he forgive her for pretending she was something that she was not? Maria had to ask who was she, starlet of the runway or that little DeLuca girl tending her flowers. Couldn’t she be both?

“Yeah, Izzy, I saw her. We worked in her garden and went out for supper at Señor Chow’s. She didn’t say a thing about Rosy Dee. If you think I should, I will hang around awhile. You say that this Archie fellow is going to be showing up. I will try to be here for that. As for what happens between us, she has to decide what she wants to do about that. Yes, yes, I promise I won’t leave without clearing up this identity thing.

Maria didn’t sleep well that night. She had dreams of being with Michael back in the Near East. They were strange dreams, highly sanitized, all what Michael had called roaches being removed. She as Rosy Dee was in the cabin with Michael. They weren’t worried about attack or being followed, they were just in the cabin making love. She hoped that they never would have to leave.

No one knew that true story of her rescue or capture either. When the machine guns started firing, everyone hit the floor. Rosy had been in costume for her performance. The costume was to show what the men were fighting for. That was almost a quote from Bob Hope who ran Christmas USO tours for years. One general, more paper pusher than fighter,z had threatened to close her down. “Sergeant, that woman is positively indecent. Get her out of here and request Lawrence Welk.”

“No general, that is Rosy Dee. She is in the dream of every man out there. When other shows come by, the singers, actors and performers usually go off with some officer. Not Rosy Dee. You will probably find her in the medical tent holding some soldier’s hand. Why, it is reported that once they found her sitting in some patient’s bed holding his head against her breasts, singing to him while he fell asleep for the first time since he had been admitted. General, Rosy Dee shows a lot of skin, but she shows a lot of heart, also.”

Well those Michael called Roaches hadn’t like Rosy Dee showing skin and the only way they wanted to see her heart was to rip it out and lay it pulsing on some alter. Rosy couldn’t understand the language, but when the leader of the roaches came up to her and slapped her she was sure that the word he uttered meant whore in his language. He had grabbed a robe and wrapped it around her as if the fear that her sight might destroy his soul. At first, Rosy had been in fear of ending up in some Harem. Harems were for rich men. These men or roaches got their rocks off by killing. Usually it was video taped beheadings, but with women, they preferred stoning. After seeing the farmers used to clear minefields, Rosy could believe in anything, especially if it was bad.

It was amazing of how secure she felt in Michael’s arms. She had just witnessed more bloodletting than she had seen, even on television during her whole lifetime, but when Michael took her hand she would follow him anywhere.

They hid from roving bands and they hid from American Drones. Michael said that it must not be proven that they were in this country illegally. When they miraculously appeared in Germany, the American government didn’t question them too closely and foreigners were kept at a distance.

As she showered this morning, running her hands up and down her body, she could only think how much better it would have been if Michael had been doing it. Would things been better if she had said, “Michael it is me, Maria. Rosy Dee is a stage name. I picked you out of the audience because I miss you so. Could Maria DeLuca have gone on to follow Michael across the badlands, as did Rosy Dee?
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 2520
Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm

Re: Michael and Maria,m&m, teen ch5 ,dec 5 ,2016

Post by keepsmiling7 » Mon Dec 05, 2016 6:05 pm

So Michael finally knows the truth......but still doesn't let on to Maria.
I can't see Michael on his hands and knees planting flowers, but then I see Maria as Rosie Dee and not the young Maria we once knew.
and please keep writing Ken!

Post Reply