The Wild One

By Danielle

Disclaimers: I don't own the characters AND I stole the title from an old movie. I am so unoriginal it's not even funny.

Notes: Today is apparently my day for fluff. I, for some unknown reason, was reminiscing about when I was a kid and all the

stupid things I used to do- one of which was make up stupid rhymes for people's names. Did you guys do that? Well, I was

thinking of one that went "Michael, Michael, Motorcycle..." and it gave me a fic idea. Don't ask- I am twisted. It's a bunch of

mush, really, but enjoyable I hope.

"Hi, is Maria there, please?"

Amy DeLuca looked at the receiver in her hand disbelievingly. Was the voice on the other end who she thought it was? "Yes,

she is. Hold on a sec."

She covered the receiver with her hand and yelled, "Maria!"

Her daughter's footsteps were heard approaching from down the hall and she soon popped her head into the kitchen. "Yeah?"

"Phone for you." Amy held out the phone for her daughter.

Noting the strange look on her mom's face, she mouthed, "Who is it?"

Her mom smirked, mouthing back, "I think it's Michael."

Maria's eyes bulged a bit. Michael had never called her house before. He didn't dare risk it since the morning her mom had

found them asleep in Maria's bed and chased him out of the house wielding the Roswell Daily News. Clearing her throat, she

took the phone in hand and hoarsely said, "Hello?"

"Maria? It's me."

"Oh, hi Michael. What's up?" She was desperately trying to avoid her mom's inquisitive gaze.

"I have a surprise for you- can I come over?"

"Hold on a minute, I'll ask." She looked at Amy, still standing in the kitchen, trying to figure out what would make her little

wrestler call the house when he was bound to know he was in deep trouble with her. "Um, mom, it's Michael. He wants to

come over for a little bit to give me something. Is that okay?" Her eyes pleaded with her mom to say yes.

Her mom nodded reluctantly, and Maria mouthed a thank you. "Um, Michael, yeah, you can come over."

"Cool. I'll see you in 5 minutes, okay?"

"Sure, see you then." She hung the phone back up on the wall and turned to her mother. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Yes, it's fine. But I'm going to be right in the other room. And stay out of your bedroom!"

Maria nodded, knowing her mother was serious. And she didn't dare oppose her mom now, or she might not be allowed to see Michael anymore.

~~~~~

5 minutes later the doorbell rang, and Maria practically skipped to answer it. Michael stood on the stoop; hands behind his

back, wearing his leather jacket, his hair slightly more mussed than usual. "Hey."

She smiled at him. "Hi. So do you want to come in?"

He looked down at his shoes. "No, actually I just wanted to drop by to give you this." He pulled his hands out from behind him

and handed her a large box gift wrapped in old newspaper.

Maria looked confused but happy. "What's this for? It's not my birthday or our anniversary or anything."

He shook his head, rolling his eyes skyward. "Can't a guy get his girlfriend a present without her asking 50 questions?"

"Well, most guys can, yes, but not you." The corner of her mouth turned up as she said it though, letting him know she was just

messing with him.

His eyes narrowed. "Just open it, okay?"

She pulled the paper off the box, and reached inside, pulling out... a motorcycle helmet? Her mouth wouldn't work. "Thanks,

it's really nice, I… um… well what is this for?"

He stepped to the side and pointed to the driveway, where a black motorcycle was parked. "I thought you could wear it when

I take you for a ride."

Maria was stunned. "That's yours? You bought a motorcycle? Where did you get the money? How did you get it over here

without me hearing it?"

"I rolled it. I was just down the street at a payphone. And I've been saving up. It's used, so it didn't cost too much, and I used

my last check from work for the down payment. Cool, huh?"

"Yeah, but, do you even know how to drive one?"

"Of course I do. I'm sick of asking you and Max and Isabel for rides everywhere. Makes me feel like a degenerate. And if I'm

going to be independent, I want to be totally independent. And that means I need to get from point A to point B by myself." He

stepped closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. "Besides," he whispered, "I thought you'd think it was

sexy." He pressed his mouth to her neck, waiting for a reaction.

She spun around to face him. "You don't need a motorcycle to make me think you're sexy." She placed a quick kiss on his

mouth, then put the helmet on her head. "But it IS cool. Are you going to take me for a ride?"

"Anywhere you want." He stepped toward the bike and pulled his helmet off the back and put it on. Straddling the motorcycle,

he jumped on the starter, and it roared to life. Maria flipped down the windscreen of her helmet and jumped on the seat behind

Michael. She pressed herself tightly to his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. Rolling it to the end of the driveway,

Michael looked left, then right before taking off loudly down the street.

Amy DeLuca watched out the front window of the house, drawn by the roar of the motor, as Michael and her daughter drove

away down the street. Her little girl was growing up. And dating a boy who now owned a Motorcycle. Amy chuckled to

herself, remembering her own excitement the first time Maria's father had pulled up on his cycle to pick her up. She was just

about Maria's age. She sighed; hoping against hope that Maria's experience with a Wild One wouldn't turn out the same way

hers had.