Author: Jenny
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Pairing: Michael/Maria
Rating: TEEN
Summary: “You two sound like an old married couple.” Takes place throughout the series and beyond. Oneshot; 2,566 words.
Author’s Note: For RhondaAnn, who paid a very generous sum for my writing services in the Support Stacie April Author Auction. Her only request was “nothing dark or angsty,” so this is some good old-fashioned comedic fluff.
Author’s Note 2: Many, many thanks to vegas312 for helping me brainstorm during our 9-hour drive to Kentucky, and for giving this her magic beta touch.
***
“Michael, where is the baby?”
“What baby?”
“‘What baby?’ Our baby! Where is she?”
“Oh, right. I left it in my locker.”
Maria DeLuca could practically feel the smoke coming out of her ears. Stomping her foot on the ground like a child throwing a tantrum, she said angrily, “You can’t just leave her in your locker! What is the matter with you?”
In response, Michael Guerin simply sighed and rolled his eyes, making Maria want to throttle him. “What is your problem?” he asked blithely. “It’s just a sack of sugar.”
She pointed a finger at him menacingly. “You better not make me fail this project, Guerin. Go get her out of your locker, now.”
Maria followed closely at Michael’s heels as he grudgingly went to his locker. He spun the combination leisurely, Maria tapping her foot in impatience. When he finally opened the door, she saw the baby strewn haphazardly atop his (probably unused) textbooks.
“Michael!” Maria reached into the locker and lifted the five-pound bag of sugar that she’d dressed herself in a little tie-dye onesie. Hoping that no one from their Home Ec class (or, God forbid, their teacher) had seen, she cradled the baby in her arms like it was real. Maybe Michael wasn’t going to take this project seriously, but she would be damned if she’d let him get them a failing grade.
“I don’t know what you’re getting so worked up about,” Michael said. “News flash: it’s not a real baby.”
“This week it is,” she shot back. “And stop referring to the baby as ‘it.’ Her name is Hailey.”
“Whatever,” Michael responded indifferently. “And what’s with this shirt, anyway?” he asked, pointing to the onesie. “Why does our baby have to be a hippie?”
“And what would you have her wear? An old Metallica t-shirt?” she asked, looking pointedly at the black t-shirt he himself was wearing.
“Hey, I’ll have you know that this is from Lollapalooza. It’s a classic.”
“Lollapalooza?” Maria asked mockingly. “You know, I think that was Hailey’s first word.”
“Funny,” was all Michael said, though it was clear he didn’t think she was being funny at all.
“Are you sure that baby’s not real?” came Alex’s voice, completely startling Maria. She’d been so involved in taunting Michael that she hadn’t even realized that he and Liz had walked up and were witnessing their little tiff. “Because you two sure do sound like an old married couple,” he said.
That seemed to shut Maria and Michael both up, and an awkward silence fell over them. After what seemed like an eternity, Michael slammed his locker shut. “I gotta get to class,” he muttered.
“Yeah, me, too,” Maria agreed quickly. They turned away from each other, Maria heading to class with Liz and Alex in one direction, Michael in the other. After a few steps, Maria turned back and called out, “Oh, and Michael? Supervised visits from now on.”
Without turning around, he called back, “Does that mean we’re getting a divorce?”
***
“Order up!”
Maria came bounding up to the window just seconds after Michael placed the plate of burger and fries on the ledge. “There’s supposed to be no lettuce and tomato on that burger,” she said cheerfully.
Without a word, Michael pulled the lettuce and tomato out from underneath the bun, akin to a magician snatching a tablecloth from beneath a table full of dishes. “Thank you!” Maria responded, taking the plate to serve to her customers. Michael shook his head, wondering how anyone could be so chipper while at work.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” Michael asked her when she had returned from the dining area.
“No reason,” she replied with a shrug.
He looked back and forth from her and the grill while he flipped burgers. “You coming over later?” he asked her.
“Why?” she asked.
“Just thought you might want to,” Michael answered, confused by her response.
“I’m not going to come over just so we can make out, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s what couples do, and you’ve made it clear we’re not a couple,” she answered matter-of-factly.
Michael put his spatula down and turned to face her fully. “Maria, what are you on about? Of course we’re a couple.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize.”
“Cut the crap. What are you talking about?”
“Well,” she answered, wiping down the counter with a damp cloth, “it’s not like you ever officially asked me if I wanted to get back together.”
“Oh, for the love of--” Michael shook his head in exasperation. “Do you wanna get back together?”
“Hm, no.” And before he even had a chance to sputter a response, she had walked away to greet another customer that had just walked in.
The sizzling of the grill broke Michael out of his stupor, and he flipped the burgers in annoyance while he waited for Maria to come back. As soon as she did, he asked her, “What do you mean, ‘no?’”
“What?” Maria asked innocently.
“I asked you if you wanted to get back together, and you said no.”
“Yeah, you didn’t really sound like you meant it,” she answered.
“Ma--” Rarely did she leave him so befuddled. “Are you kidding me with this?”
Maria put her hands on her hips, her face turning serious. “No, Michael, I’m not. You were the one who was so adamant about us not belonging together. You can’t just have some epiphany and change your mind, and expect everything to go back to the way it was.”
“Fine,” he replied calmly, putting his spatula down. He’d play her little game if it would make her happy. Bracing himself against the ledge of the window, he leaned towards her. “Maria,” he began, in as serious a tone as he could muster, “I was wrong. Will you please be my girlfriend again?”
A smile played across her features, and Michael could tell she was happy that she’d gotten what she wanted. Leaning back towards him, so close that he almost thought she was going to kiss him, she said softly, “I’ll think about it.” Then she bounded away again, leaving him flabbergasted in her wake.
Regaining his composure, he turned back to the grill and picked up his spatula. “Don’t hold out for anything else!” he called to her. “’Cause that’s as good as it’s gonna get!”
***
The first indication that something was not right was the placement of the armchair. It normally took Michael exactly five steps to get from the entrance of the kitchen to his favorite chair. Today it had taken six.
Looking around the living room in alarm, he looked for anything else out of place. Now that he took a moment to look around, he realized that nothing in the room was the way he’d left it. The magazines were not strewn carelessly across the coffee table, the throw blanket was not in a wadded bunch at one end of the couch, and the TV tray was pushed up against the wall instead of in the middle of the room like usual. Michael shook his head in confusion.
It was… clean.
“There you are.”
Michael spun around, coming face to face with Maria, who was walking from the direction of the bedroom.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, gesturing around him.
“Well, I finally got tired of the mess around here,” she answered. “So I decided to do something about it.”
“How am I supposed to find anything now?” he asked. “Where’s the remote?” He looked around frantically, realizing that it wasn’t in its usual spot on the arm of the couch.
“Geez, relax. It’s on the coffee table next to the magazines.”
“That’s not where it goes,” he told her, picking up the remote and placing it where it belonged.
Maria scoffed. “Men are hopeless,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
Momentarily feeling bad, Michael looked at Maria. She looked kinda cute in her old sweatpants and tank top, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She looked tired, like she’d obviously spent a great deal of energy cleaning his apartment. “Look, Maria,” he said apologetically, “it’s not that I don’t appreciate--”
His words suddenly died in his throat. “What is that?” he asked, pointing to the black cloth in her hand.
“Oh, this?” She held it up. “It was on the floor in the back of your closet, so I used it as a dusting cloth.” She shook it out as she spoke - it was filthy.
Michael gaped at her, aghast. “That’s my Lollapalooza shirt!” he exclaimed in anger.
She glanced at it disinterestedly. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
Michael was trying very hard to keep his temper in check. “You… dusted… with my favorite t-shirt?”
“Michael, you’ve had this shirt since you were, like, twelve. It barely fits you anymore. I can’t even remember the last time you wore it.”
“That’s not the point!” He grabbed the t-shirt from her, shaking more of the dust from it and wiping it off as best he could. “I can’t believe you dusted with my Lollapalooza shirt,” he repeated in disbelief.
“Oh my god, Michael, it’s just a shirt,” Maria said in exasperation.
“Yeah? How would you like it if I used your aromatherapy oils to wash the dishes, huh?”
“Why would you do that?”
“My point exactly,” he muttered, looking at his shirt. He’d gotten most of the dust off of it, and he inspected it closely for any further damage. Satisfied that it was okay, he looked at Maria. “Do me a favor and leave the cleaning to me from now on.”
“Then it’ll never get done!” Maria exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration.
Michael carefully draped the t-shirt over the back of his armchair. “If it means my favorite shirts are safe, then so be it,” he said.
***
“Stop touching me.”
“I’m not touching you.”
“Your toe is on my leg.”
“Well, your leg is too close to my side.”
“Well, your toe is over the line.”
“There’s a line now?”
“Yeah, right here down the middle of the seat. You stay on that side of the line, and I stay on this side.”
“Why can’t we share the seat like Max and Liz? Look at them - they don’t need a line.”
“They also don’t know how to go more than five minutes without touching. I don’t need to be touching you all time.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want you touching me.”
“Then get your toe off my leg!”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!”
“I want to get some sleep. I can’t sleep with your toe jabbing my leg.”
“My toe is not jabbing your leg. It’s barely touching.”
“It is, too. I can feel a bruise forming from all the jabbing.”
“Shut up, you big baby.”
“Who’s being a baby?”
“You are, you big baby. ‘I can’t sleep with your toe touching my leg!’ Wah, wah, wah!”
“‘Why can’t we be more like Max and Liz?’ You like Max and Liz so much, go sit in the back with them.”
“They’re sleeping. Which is what I wish you would do so you’d quit bugging me.”
“I would go to sleep if you’d get your toe off my leg!”
“Oh my god, enough!” Isabel’s voice echoed in the small van as it lurched to an abrupt stop. She spun around to face them from the driver’s seat, her hair whipping against her face with the force of the movement. She pointed a finger at Maria and Michael, fire shooting from her brown eyes. “If you two don’t shut up, I’m going to leave you both by the side of the road!”
“Get a grip, Iz,” Michael said. “We’re just messing around.”
“You can mess around all you want to when you’re alone. But right now you’re driving the rest of us crazy.”
“I don’t see anyone else pulling off to the side of the road and threatening to throw us out.” Michael looked at the other occupants of the van. Liz and Max were still asleep in the back, the sudden stop and Isabel’s outburst having not even woken them. And Kyle was sitting in silence in the front passenger seat, very obviously amused by the whole situation, if the grin on his face was any indication.
“Michael, I swear to God…” Isabel threatened, leaving the sentence hanging.
“Why don’t we switch for a while?” Michael suggested. “Let me and Maria take the front.”
“Fine,” Isabel huffed. “Then at least you won’t have to be touching each other.”
Maria and Michael quickly switched seats with Isabel and Kyle, and Michael pulled the van back onto the road. He’d been driving for less than two minutes when Maria asked, “Don’t you think you’re going a little fast?”
Michael glanced at the speedometer. “What? I’m going sixty.”
“The speed limit’s 55. And the last thing we need is to get stopped by the cops for speeding.”
“A cop is not going to pull me for going five over.”
“How do you know? We don’t know where we are. The law enforcement around here might be super strict.”
“Don’t be a backseat driver.”
“I’m not, I’m just saying…”
And as the argument carried on, Isabel simply groaned.
***
Michael poked his head into the dimly lit room, and could just make out Maria’s form lying on the bed, her back to him. “Hey, you awake?” he asked softly.
“Go away, I’m mad at you,” she grumbled without turning around.
Michael let out a sigh and came to sit on the bed. “Why are you mad?” he asked calmly.
“You called me fat,” she answered.
Michael had to struggle not to laugh at the absurdity of her accusation. But he knew better, for laughing would only upset her more. “I did not call you fat,” he said.
“Yes, you did. I heard you talking to Max and Kyle about the weight I’ve put on.”
“Maria.” He nudged her arm, silently urging her to turn over and face him. She did, rolling so that she was lying on her back. “You are not fat. You are beautiful.” He placed a large hand against her slightly rounded stomach, then leaned down to drop a kiss there, too. “And the bigger you get, the more beautiful you’ll be.”
Maria looked doubtful, though a timid smile broke out on her face. “Really?” she asked.
“Really,” Michael confirmed. “Oh, what’s that?” He placed his ear against Maria’s stomach. “Yep, Junior here agrees. Says his mom is the most beautiful woman in the world.”
Maria giggled. “What makes you so sure it’s a boy?” she asked.
“He told me so,” Michael said matter-of-factly. He leaned down and placed a feather-light kiss to Maria’s lips. “Seriously, don’t ever doubt how beautiful and sexy you are to me.”
“Sexy, huh?” Maria asked, raising her eyebrow.
“Mm hm,” Michael murmured, his hand sliding underneath her top and reaching to caress a tender breast. “So sexy.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Maria responded flirtatiously, kissing him deeply.
Later, as they lay together amid tangled bed sheets, Michael said thoughtfully, “After all these years, I think I’ve realized why we argue so much.”
“Hm, why’s that?” Maria asked, lifting her head from his shoulder to look at him.
Michael smiled and answered, “Because making up is so damn fun.”
THE END
Author’s Note:
I know I didn’t specify at which point in canon each scene takes place, so in case you were wondering:
Scene 1 takes place sometime during Season 1. I didn’t really have a specific episode in mind, just sometime before they were “officially” a couple.
Scene 2 takes place after Summer of ‘47.
Scene 3 takes place during early Season 3, before Behind the Music.
Scene 4 takes place shortly after Graduation.
Scene 5 takes place several years in the future.
Thanks for reading!
