Truthfully, he hadn't broken into her room. They had been...together...and he had said he would see her later. It was her fault if she wasn't there to meet him.

Really.

He searched through her room, under her bed (where he almost went to sleep, because it smelled just like her), in her closet...no where. He was trying to find her diary. He had Liz's, and while he was sure it was interesting...he was more interested in finding Maria's. The little wench had hidden it pretty well.

Finally, he found it. Right on her bedside table. How had he missed that? Oh well, didn't matter. He turned it over in his hands, getting a brief flash of Maria curled up in bed, scribbling away in it. He smirked. Maria's diary was dark blue, and had sparkling stars and moons covering it. It was made of some sort of soft fabric. He guessed felt or velveteen.

He climbed back out of her window and landed on the ground. He knew the way home by heart, and so decided to get a little reading in, so he could sleep that night. Opening to the most recent entry, he began reading, practically hearing Maria narrating it...weird.

"His hands are so soft." Wow. It really DID sound like she was narrating it. "You wouldn't think it, but he knows how to use them, too." Odd. He could...almost feel her breath...on his neck. He continued reading.

"He has a lot of strength, but he really knows how to control it. But wow, when he lets loose...we actually had sex. Yeah, I should use the words 'made love' but it so wasn't that. It was...orgasmic. No, a better word: explosive. Yeah, that's it. And it doesn't hurt that he's cut. His arms are--"

As Michael read Maria's innermost thoughts, he crossed the street, oblivious to the outside world. So oblivious, in fact, that he didn't see the truck as it skidded to a stop, only a foot away from hitting him. The driver began yelling choice expletives. But, of course, Michael didn't hear a word of them.

"...and he's so aggressive! It's anti-feminist of me, but he's initiated all of our encounters. Maybe I should take charge...nah. It's too much fun! Lizzie would kill me if she knew. I know she is so into Max...maybe I should tell her. Nothing bad has come from our...whatever. Maybe just the little feeling I get when he's around, but that's probably the fact that we've seen each other naked..."

Michael realized he was at his trailer when he ran into the door. Checking to make sure Hank's truck wasn't there, he slipped in and went to his room. He sat on the bed and began reading the previous entry.

"Okay, I know I haven't written in here in a while, but a lot has gone down, and it's kinda hard to remember to pick this thing up and write. How does Liz do it? Anyway, Michael Guerin...oh, I don't even know how to write this down! Okay, he like, accosted me at the Crashdown when I was getting changed, to go home. I was in my underwear, and the guy just waltzed in and practically accused me of turning them in--"

Michael smirked at her interesting view of the events which occured on their first night, as he liked to call it. God, he was turning into a sap.

He continued reading.

"--and he like, asked if he could trust me. His voice was so...wow...I don't even know how to describe it! Then he started touching me. Oh dear sweet lord in heaven...his hands are so...I'll get back to you on his hands. Anyway, he put me on the couch- the same couch that Liz's parents sat on, for god's sake!- and practically ripped my undies off.

"And then...wow...I'm a little afraid to go further, because who knows if my mother reads this? I mean, she'd kill me for the stuff I wrote about that party in the 8th grade one time...okay, back on subject. So, like I was saying, he started...TOUCHING me. Like...remember how I told you about Livvy Specter back in freshman year, and how I heard her talking about her makeout session with Tom Baker, and he got all grabby and touched her DOWN THERE. Like, way better. WAY better...It was...crap, I wish I could tell Lizzie all about this. She'd give me a good word to describe it...something that would make it sound really big...monumental?

"Okay, don't quote me on that. Anyway, he was touching me, but I swear, not just with his hands. Remember how I said that one time that tongues kinda grossed me out? I so totally recant that. They are the best thing on earth. Besides his teeth. Who knew teeth could be so exciting?"

Michael stopped reading and looked up. Remembering that night, the way she smelled, and especially the way she tasted...he rested his head back against the wall, trying to calm himself. He would be cool. They were just words. And just because he kept getting flashes of her as she held the journal...he would be fine.

Suddenly there was a knock on his door. He jumped up. It could be anyone...it could be Hank, drunk and without his keys. But the knock wasn't that heavy. Lighter, but with an air of confidence. Who did he know like that?

"Maria." he whispered, and walked to the door. It was her. He knew it.

Opening the door, he acted surprised to see her. Her hands were on her hips, and she looked absolutely delectable. She glanced at the book in his hands and smirked.

"Have fun reading, spaceboy?" her voice was low, and she was already walking in, advancing on him, as it were.

"Uh, yeah..." his voice was strained. He just had to keep it cool.

But she had other ideas.

She pushed him into his room and shut the door. She grabbed her journal and shook her head, a mock angry expression on her face. She tossed the book on the floor and pushed him down onto his bed.

"Michael, why did you take my journal?" she climbed on top of him and sat on his chest, her hands resting by her sides.

"I--" She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought.

"Because you like breaking into people's rooms? I bet you're wondering how I knew, right?" when he nodded, she continued, "well, I came into my room just as your cute little butt jumped out of my window. And my first thought was that you stole something. So I followed you here."

"Maria, you shouldn't have..." his voice held warning. But she looked really pissed. What if he had gone too far?

She ran her nails up his side and he tried to keep down the shudder that went through his body.

"But I did...and you know what that means, right? I mean, you've been the one to start things so far. Thought you could go for some role reversal, right?"

He grabbed her hips, trying to maintain control in the situation. He had to, for her sake.

Her hands went up to the collar of her shirt. She unbuttoned one tiny button, and he tightened his grip on her. Another button loose, and a flash of black lace. He rolled his neck, trying to remain as calm as possible. She was trying to make him lose control. That couldn't happen. Then she stopped, and smiled wickedly.

"I'm having trouble with these buttons. Could you get 'em for me? Oh, and no funny business, or I leave, alright?"

He couldn't even say no. But none of that dainty stuff. He ripped her shirt apart. She kept an amused expression as she pushed his hands away, pulling the shirt off (or what remained of it) and let it fall on the floor.

She leaned down, pressing her chest to his. She looked directly into his eyes and fluttered her eyelashes.

"Let go of me, Michael."

"What? No." He didn't let her go, true to his word, and she glared at him. Was she really angry? Then why was she sitting on top of him half naked? Evil...

"Michael..." he had to take control of this situation.

For her sake.

Maria yelped when he rolled over, lying on top of her. She started hitting him, her tiny fists barely leaving a mark. She growled and dug her nails into his arms.

"Shit! Maria, stop it!" he shoved off of her, landing on the floor. Suddenly HE was on his back, and she had regained control. She slipped out of her skirt, squirming against him, sending wonderful jolts of pleasure through his already aching body. And there she was, in her underwear, doing her best to make him lose it.

"Michael, I would hate to punish you." she wriggled her eyebrows, obviously loving every minute of this. Of course she did.

She took his hands in hers and guided them up her body. She closed her eyes, and he took the chance. Moving his hands to her back, he unhooked her bra. He sat up enough to kiss her, and while her mouth was occupied, her pulled her bra off. She bit his lip and he pulled away. Smiling, she spoke softly.

"Touch me, Michael."

He kissed her collarbone, luxuriating in her warmth. It was too cold in his room. He took her breasts in his palms, trying to offer even more warmth. She licked her lips and moved into his touch. While holding her up with one arm, he dipped his head and traced circles around one rose colored nipple with his tongue. She purred in response, and he suckled her, once again filling his head with her heartbeat, the sound of the blood flowing through her veins.

Then she pulled his head away (he noticed that it seemed to take her a lot more energy this time) and kissed him. He felt her take his shirt off, breaking contact long enough to pull the fabric away. He fell back onto the floor, and she unzipped his jeans.

"These are so tight...how do you get in them, Michael?" she smiled at him as she tugged his pants down. How could she even think of talking? Was she made of ice? She pulled her panties off, tossing them into his face.

Apparently not ice. Maybe something else, though...

His boxers were the next to go. If he wasn't bad enough already, he got even harder when she grinned at him, her hand trailing down his abs. But she didn't touch him. Oh no, that would be too giving of her. Instead, she got up onto her knees, poised to lower herself onto him. He needed to be inside her so damn bad. And by the flush covering her body, he knew she needed it too. So why was she prolonging the torture?

"How long do you think we can wait for this?" her voice was husky, and he was sure it would match his.

"How long will it take me to say 'fuck it', Maria?" sure enough, she reddened. He pulled her down, and when he came into contact with her warmth, he hissed. He needed her so much.

"Michael, I do believe that..." she gripped his wrists, preventing any further movement, "you have yet to say the magic words."

"Maria..." his voice held warning. She couldn't do this to him. It was too cruel.

"Say it." she effected a stony face.

He choked on the words. She wanted to hear them...she would hear them.

"P-Please. Maria, please."

She stared down at him for a moment.

Then her lips crooked into a smile.

She dropped his wrists, and in an instant she was on him-- god help him --riding him. He held onto her hips as she threw her head back. The view was so enticing...he pulled her down and their lips met. As was so familiar, their tongues, their mouths fought for some sort of dominance. He had a feeling it would always be like that.

Woah. Always? Thoughts of always crashed into all other thoughts when he was brought back to reality. Too much thinking.

"Michael!" it was all moving so fast, and so good. She moved down and kissed his neck, then his shoulder. She bit him, and he grabbed her harder. Then their eyes met.

Then she pulled him down, falling on her back, and he came crashing on top of her. She cried out, but held him there, and he pounded into her with bruising strength. She didn't stop him, only urged him on. His name was a chant, and she repeated it over and over.

"Michael...Michael...god, Michael."

"Maria...closer, baby."

Miraculously (or due to some unforseen force between them), they came together, filling the small trailer with their moans and yells. They stayed like that, on the floor, for minutes.

Or was it hours?

The sheer reality of what had happened made them drunk on their own sensuality. Maria didn't mention that Michael was crushing her, so Michael didn't mention it, either.

- - - -

He walked her back home, and watched carefully as she climbed into her window.

"Later...Michael." his name was different when she said it that time. Full of reverance.

"Later."

He couldn't trust himself to say her name again. If he did, he would be up there and with her in seconds.

Instead, he walked away, silently promising her that he would be back soon.

And in her room, Maria breathed a sigh of relief.