Disclamer: Not mine, None of it! Not making money off of this and never will!

Title: How Can This Be?

Summary: "I hate you!" "Ditto!" yeah right… Maria has had enough of Michael being all back and forth with her and has decided to push him away. Michael realizes what he has in Maria and tries to get her back…

Spoilers: Set after pretty early in the show. Right around "The Balance"-ish…

AN: I wrote this back when the show was first aired, so right around 2004 or so. It's oooooooooooold. I was a huge Maria/Michael fan. I think their relationship was so much deeper and closer to reality than whoever else's on the show. Also, Maria is purdy hot! XD I had lost this story and rediscovered it on some Roswell fanfiction website by chance today. I'm beta-reading it myself right now, since after 5 years I think I will find my own mistakes. Haha! I will update as I progress in fixing mistakes…

RATED M!!! I mean it kiddos, stay away if you don't like that kind of stuff and/or are not of legal age!

How can this be?

After a few days, he wished he hadn't been so harsh. Even if she was a pain in the ass, he hadn't wanted to hurt her.

Why couldn't she just … just disappear? His life was complicated enough without having an irritating female around him, thinking she knew how he felt. Why wasn't making out enough for her? It was for him! He had to find a way to keep her away from him. He couldn't let her get too close to him. Or too much closer…

Actually he couldn't even remember why he got so intense. With all the girls he could have with only snipping his fingers … Why her? She could be so annoying, with her talking all day long and her little comments she had for every single sentence he uttered.

But there was just one little thing that kept nagging at him. Each time he simply saw her, he got this weird feeling in his stomach area, like … he couldn't really put his finger on it, but he knew the feeling from when he was with her. Sometimes, when he was very exhausted, tired or got in a fight with Hank, he'd lay down in his bed and he'd remember how she felt. Her little hands around his neck and on his back, her soft hair, her lips… oh god her lush lips, the way they fit so perfectly on his own. He'd even sometimes cry a little, which he would never admit to anyone, not even Max or Isabel.

He didn't want to think about her, but in times he was really down and about to burst Hank's face or run away, thinking of her was the only thing that calmed him down. And that was what he was afraid of. He knew that the only place he really felt loved and safe was with her.

How could this be? He didn't even really like her!

After thinking about it a little more, he came to the conclusion that he only started this… this thing – she called some sort of relationship – with her, because she was there when he needed some distraction, but then that fucking heatwave happened and made things even worse.

At least that's what he tried to make himself believe…

Maria was at Liz's house. Her mom had been gone for two weeks now on some seminar and she would still be gone for a whole week. Normally she had nothing against being alone at home, but after what happened with Michael, she just didn't want to be by herself. She needed someone to talk to and who would be better to talk to about boy problems than her best friend? There was only one difficulty right now: Liz was completely and utterly on cloud 7 thousand about what happened between Max and her. They finally kissed and Liz would just love to talk about it and how amazing it was and how overly happy she is now.

But there was poor Maria lying in her bed next to Liz staring at the ceiling. Her eyes still red from crying.

"Maria, Maria listen - " Liz said softly while patting her shoulder.

"How could he do this to me, Liz?" she asked quietly.

"What?" Liz asked back.

"Why is he so mean? God, I hate him!" Maria said as the tears started filling her eyes again.

"Oh, Maria, you don't hate him … come on, we all knew he would eventually react like that. You know how distant he is and how he distrusts everybody who seems to like him or get closer to him and…"

"No, Liz. I was there. The way he touched me, the way he kissed me, …" she rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the sob that was about to overcome her.

"The first time we really, like, got intense, the night you saw us at the Crashdown … Okay, that may have been a reaction to an exhausting day and the heat, but if it just happened, because of the heat, he should have realized it after at least, like, 5 seconds or something, don't you think? But no, he just kept on going… if you know what I mean?" Maria whimpered.

"What do you mean 'the fist time we really got intense'? Did you two - ?" Liz asked wondering what Maria hadn't told her.

"He kissed me before…!" she sighed "Sorry I didn't tell you, Liz. I was confused and didn't know what it meant and… oh, I don't know..."

"Yeah, ok, … but when, when did this happen, Maria? … Oh no, at the nookie motel? That place looked filthy, Maria… seriously - "

"No, no, … "She interrupted her friend "We were at the Crashdown. Remember, the night you and Max went to that Riverdog guy? Well, we were there alone, because Isabel left, because spaceboy wouldn't stop being an asshole." she spat out the word asshole to emphasize how she felt about him at the time. "I was just so nervous, because I was worried something could've happened to you and Max, and I asked him to talk to me or to tell everything would be okay to calm me down. He just got mean again and told me to shut up … I walked away telling him I was obviously barking up the wrong tree and he came after me and kissed me!" Maria stammered as she started crying again.

Liz was shocked. She lay down next to her friend and urged her to continue. "So, … and …?"

"And nothing. He said it was only to calm me down and then he left!" her tears were running down her face again. Liz felt a sudden urge to run to Michael and tell him what he's doing to her best friend. Instead she took Maria into her arms and hugged her.

"Ssh, Maria, come on." Liz said trying to soothe her.

"Liz, I really thought I found somebody, I really thought we had something. He, he was so, so, not Michael, when we were together. He was so tender and so careful, I felt as if he'd never let anything bad happen to me! And suddenly he went back to being his usual self."

"Ssh." Liz rubbed her back.

"God, Liz … I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! I will never ever let him get near me ever again! or any other guy for that matter, I swear to god! I am over this whole boy thing!"

After a while of just laying there in silence, they dozed off, but where rudely awakened by a noise. Someone was throwing little stones at Liz window. Liz got up and looked out. Her eyes suddenly lit up as she saw Max outside. She opened the window.

"Max, what are you doing here?" she asked with a shy smile on her face.

"I wanted to see you, Liz. Can I come up?" he answered hoping she'd let him in her room this late hour.

"Maria is here, Max, she is not feeling so well. You know, the whole Michael thing, and - "

"No, Liz, it's um … it's ok." Maria cut her off. "I'll leave. I'll just go home, no problem."

Liz turned around to her "Are you sure? I mean, are you gonna be ok? Because you don't have to… I mean you're still my best friend and I could just tell Max to leave."

"No, no … who am I to stand in the way of true love unfolding?" she tried to smile, but it only came out halfway. She put on her jacket and her pants and took the window, so she wouldn't wake Liz's parents.

"Thanks Maria, you're the best!" Maria smiled and envied her best friend for her alien was not such a cold bastard.

"Yeah, I know. Just wish a certain alien boy was aware of this awesomness as well…" she muttered. Max helped her down and asked how she was. She said she was going to be ok, and left the couple alone.

It was dark outside and she was admittedly a little afraid of walking home alone in the dark. She had never been afraid before, but now she knew there were aliens and the FBI sneaking around town, who knew if there weren't like any of those other things she saw on the X-Files, running around here. Like those goatsucker things or some sick psycho killing people for fun. Oh man, thanks to Michael she now even had to be afraid of the dark. She started running. Big mistake. Running in the darkness when you're scared just makes you panic…

"Goddamnit, I hate you Michael Guerin!" she thought to herself while running home, although in the back of her head she knew exactly she could never really hate him. Not after she saw the other side of Michael Guerin, the soft side. The side he would never let anybody see, but she knew was there.

Meanwhile, Michael was taking one of his usual midnight walks. As usual to Max place to, as usual, sleep at his place, because he, as usual, had another kind of violent fight with Hank, but there was something unusual this particular night. He felt as if somebody was following him. And then he saw a dark figure behind a tree about 100 feet behind him.

"Shit!" he thought. And without hesitating took the way to Maria's place. Why her place? Why not Liz or Alex? He started jogging and noticed the man behind him jogging as well.

"Damnit, not to her! I can't take more of her bitching tonight!" he muttered to himself. "Fuck, why can't I just turn around and go to Liz's place?" he wondered. The guy was still behind him and he didn't want him to have a chance to catch him. So he kept his pace and just went to where he secretly wanted to be anyway.

He arrived and climbed up the tree to get into her room through her window. He used his powers to open the lock and slipped in.

"Maria? Maria, are you here?" he whispered.

Well, obviously she wasn't. He sat down in the corner and suddenly became aware her smell. It was all around him. He was in her room, for the first time ever. And she wasn't even here. He broke into her room. The memories came back, very vividly, of her in his arms. He couldn't stop them. He was overwhelmed.

"Oh god, what is this girl doing to me?" he asked himself, wondering why he suddenly felt that feeling in his stomach again. What was that? He had to get out of there. Maria surrounded him. It was dark and he didn't want to turn on the light, fearing the MIB outside would find him … and fearing to see what her room looked like…


Maria slammed the front door and hurried up to her room. She kicked the door open and threw herself straight on her bed without turning on her light. She was still crying. Sobs shaking her body and tears soaking her pillow.

Michael sat in his corner not knowing what to do. Should he say something? If he didn't and sat there for another minute while listening to her cry she would rip his head of, when she found out he was here. Why was she crying anyway? He suddenly felt a sting in his chest and he wanted to find the person who made her cry and kill him …or her.

He stood up very slowly as not to startle her, but when he heard what she was whispering into her pillow, he dropped dead in his tracks. She was crying his name into her pillow. "What the -?" he thought.

"Maria?" he asked with a soft voice.

She jumped up and screamed "Ahh!"

He reached her and took a hold of her shoulders. She started hitting him, afraid it was some kind of psycho killer who came to suck her guts out through her nose.

"Maria … it's me, it's Michael, it's ok!"

He tried to assure her everything was fine. She yanked herself out of his grip and ran for the light. She switched it on and shouted "No, nothing is ok, what the fuck are you doing in my room? What are you doing here?" she was breathing heavily, still in shock.

"I just came, because - "

"No, I don't want to hear about it, get out, Michael! GET OUT!" she yelled at him in rage, the tears now flowing down in streams. This was just too much for one night!

"I can't, ok … there's - "

She cut him of again "What do you mean you can't! I don't want you here Michael, ok? Don't do this to me, again! Please! I can't take this anymore! Just leave, please?" her voice trailed off.

She was crying because of him. What has he done? He again felt that she was getting to him. He had to do something about it. If he started to get these feelings again, he would have to try to apologize to her and then he'd get all mushy on her again. How did she do that? He kept reminding himself that he was just here to hide from the MIB, who was probably still standing outside the window waiting for him to come out. But the soft side if him took over and he slowly approached her sitting form on the ground.

"I can't, ok? I can't leave right now, there's a MIB outside, who was following me."

"Don't, don't get near me, Michael, don't touch me!" she murmured hiding her eyes from him.

He backed up and sat back in his corner.

Silence; for what felt like forever, there was nothing, and Maria even stopped crying. She just sat there on the floor, her head on her knees and her arms covering her face.

Michael watched her. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. How could he have done this to her? After all she had done for him. She had helped saving his life, for crying out loud! Even if she was annoying sometimes, right now he couldn't even think of even one occasion, where she would annoy him. Did he invent all these reasons up to shut her out?

Slowly but steadily, he started to realize what she meant to him. This is the first time he felt about her like that without kissing and touching her. He always felt it when he was with her, but every time, after the bell rang and they would leave the eraser room, it was as if he was yanked out of a wonderful dream. And realization stepped in … it hadn't been a dream. He could always feel that way! But how on earth – or any other planet – could he make her forgive him?


No answer.

"Maria, … I'm …I'm sorry!" he murmured softly, carefully not to scare her again.

"What, Michael, … what are you so sorry about?" choking the words out at him.

"About how I treated you, I know I was too harsh, and I know I owe you an apology and I owe you my life. I'm really sorry." he whispered to her.

Nothing. No answer – again.

Not good!

Her head rose slowly and she stared right into his eyes. "Too late Michael." Was all she said while climbing up into her bed and dimming the light. That look had pinned him to the ground. He had never seen so much hurt in anyone's eyes before. That was it, her final decision. He didn't even dare to ask her for forgiveness. So he just sat there.

"You can stay here Michael, you know I would never want you to get caught, but don't…"

He couldn't see her face, but knew what she wanted to tell him. Don't touch!

"I won't." he whispered back in a hushed voice.

She turned around on the bed, so he could only see her back and took off her jacket and then … her shirt. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her naked back and he couldn't stop glaring at her magnificent, white skin glowing in the dim light of her little lamp next to her bed. Was she doing this on purpose? He wanted to touch her so badly.

She put on a T-shirt and started to wiggle out of her pants. Michael swallowed hard when he saw her creamy, white legs, and there was this warm feeling again, starting to spread out throughout his whole body. It took all of his strength not to get up, walk over to her and touch her. The way she moved on the bed and the smell emanating off her in waves where driving him crazy.

Why her? He asked himself again. What was it about her he loved so much …loved? … LOVED? … Did he just seriously think that word? That word in combination with Maria? Yes, obviously he did! And the object of his affection was lying in her king-sized bed no ten feet away from him, clad only in a T-shirt and panties.

Maria fell asleep, aware of Michael merely feet away from her in a dark corner of her room, and like every other night, she fell asleep remembering how it felt to have him kiss her, how his strong hands held her up so she wouldn't fall when her knees gave in from the passionate kisses. Not even in her dreams, she could get rid of him. She dreamed about him. No sex dreams really, although sometimes it would get kind of hot and steamy, when realizing they couldn't get enough of each other. It always felt like his hands could magically be on her whole body at the same time. She wondered if that was one of those alien things.

But tonight, as if she could sense in her dream, that he was so close to her, but not really with her, she dreamed about him dying; like the time when he was so sick and nobody, knew what to do to save him. But this time, in her dream, she was alone with him in the dessert, he was bleeding all over and she was clutching his body to her and was yelling "Michael, Michael, don't leave me Michael, common, you can't leave me here!" she could barely yell, because she was sobbing so heavily, her body was shaking. "Don't die on me now, Michael, … I need you Michael, you hear me you bastard, … WAKE UP!" she screamed at him. She saw the blood running out of his wounds and through her tiny hands; with each heartbeat a little less. Indicating that there was not much left in his body. In her dream Maria looked at herself and saw this blood all over her, her hands, her shirt, her hair, her face. All was sticky with his blood. His limp body draped over her legs …


Michael was still sitting in his corner, not daring to get up, because he knew, if he got up he would walk straight up to her bed and touch her face and her hair. And she would probably rip his head of if she noticed. He only realized now, what he had lost. Suddenly, he understood what Max was trying to explain to him, about what happened to him when he saw or even just thought of Liz. He didn't want to live another day without being able to touch her, the way he touched her before … or maybe even more…

Hours past and he was still fighting the urge to get up and lay next to her in her bed, holding her, shielding her from all the bad things that were going on in the world. He listened to her steady breath and almost jumped every time he heard Maria's warm body move under her comfy blanket. He couldn't see her face or anything else of her for that matter. But he could hear her and smell her. The smell he could only define as Maria. Nothing else had ever been burned into his brain like her smell, her taste and the way her skin felt.


He had almost been lulled to sleep by her steady breath, when suddenly, he heard her wince and toss around in her bed. That was too much for him. He could no longer see her in pain. So, he stood up slowly and walked over to her bed quietly as not to wake her.

Oh man, She's crying again… What was he supposed to do?

Maria was curled up in a fetal position clutching at her sheets, obviously trying to find something to hold on to. He was scared now; he didn't know what to do. She said don't touch and she did mean it, you knew she did by the way she'd said it. But he couldn't just leave her in her misery. So he went down on his knees and bent over the bed, still afraid to touch her, but then he dared…