By Mnemosyne
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em!
Summary: Future fic. The year is 2002. It's Michael and Maria's wedding day, and EVERYTHING is going wrong.
Rating: PG-13/R
Spoilers: Possible spoilers up to and including "A Roswell Christmas Carol" (aka "The Miracle")
Feedback: Kind words ALWAYS appreciated!
Distribution: Feel free to take it, no questions asked. Just be nice to it.
Notes: Okay, since I've only been to one wedding in my life, and that was when I was nine, then I'm sure some of my wedding lingo is going to be iffy at best. So please, just go with the flow and don't stress too much. :) This is just a foofy fic! It has humor, and the necessary syrup at the end (GOTTA have my sweet Candy now and then!) Have fun with it! I did! :)
Dedication: I'm gonna dedicate this to my friend Sarah, who gave me a play by play rundown of every scream, holler, and shriek of glee I expressed during "ARCC," and made me realize that yes, I am indeed obsessed with this show. LOL!
*******
"Well then what's to be the reason
For becoming man and wife?
Is it love that brings you here
Or love that brings you life?
For if loving is the answer then who's the giving for?
Do you believe in something that
You've never seen before?
Oh, there's love. There is love."
-Peter, Paul, and Mary
"The Wedding Song"
********
JUNE, 2002
THE AURORA HOTEL
ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO
"What am I doing? Just what the HELL am I doing?"
Michael Guerin was fretting. It was, he thought, the first time in his life he'd actually fretted. Yes, he'd worried in the past. He'd
been afraid. He'd even suffered from extreme bouts of paranoia.
But this was fretting. He could feel it wrinkling around his eyes.
"Michael, calm down." The placid voice of his best friend, Max Evans, chipped away at his fretful exterior, and Michael turned
frantic eyes on the darker young man.
"Calm DOWN?" he asked, disbelieving. "And just how in God's name am I supposed to do THAT? Max, I'm getting married in," he glanced at the clock on the wall, "approximately two hours, forty five minutes, thirty seconds. Married. MARRIED.
M-A-R-R-I-E-D!" He scrubbed a hand through his unusually tame hair, making it scruffier and more like his usual casual style.
"Remind me again why I'm doing this?"
Max smiled at him-- that smile that was usually very soothing, but today just irritated the hell out of him-- and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Because you're madly in love with the bride, remember?" the other alien answered.
Michael felt a foolish grin spread across his face. "Oh, yeah," he said dreamily. He always got dreamy when someone mentioned Maria.
"Don't be nervous, Michael," Max said gently, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're marrying one of the best women in the
universe. Literally."
Michael grinned proudly. "I am, aren't I?" he said.
Max's smile broadened. "A real peach."
*********
"LIZ, MY GODDAMN HAIR IS GREEN!"
Maria Deluca was, well and truly, throwing a fit. Yes, it was her wedding day, and she was marrying the most wonderful man--
well, alien-- in the world-- well, galaxy-- but she was still throwing a fit. And she felt she had the right.
"WHY THE HELL IS MY HAIR GREEN, LIZ? WHY??" she shrieked, staring in abject horror and fury at the coils of seafoam green curls that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She was still dressed in her white silk slip, and it made her look like something out of "Clash of the Titans."
Liz Parker, who was taking the brunt of her fury, winced away at her tone. "Maria, maybe you want to lower your voice-" she
suggested, but Maria cut her off.
"HELL NO, I'm not going to lower my voice!" she screeched. She HATED screeching. "I am just a little under three hours away from walking down the aisle on my goddamn WEDDING DAY, and I look like a Fraggle!"
Liz held up a pair of placating hands, but kept her distance. "It's all right, Maria," she said, inching around the edge of the room
toward the door. "Your shampoo must have just reacted badly with whatever the hairdresser used on your highlights."
"BADLY?" Maria cried, turning back to the mirror, and glaring at the offending locks. "I look MUTINOUS!"
"Um, I think you mean, 'like a mutant.'"
"DO. NOT. ARGUE with a girl who looks like a MUPPET!"
"Right! Gotcha!"
Liz had reached the door by now, but Maria barely noticed.
"Um...I'm just gonna go get Isabel," the dark-haired girl said quickly. "She should be able to help."
"Tell her to get her three foot heels in here!" Maria growled. "NOW!"
"Understood!" Liz yelped, and Maria watched in the mirror as she dove out the door.
She stared at her reflection, and sighed heavily.
"Great," she muttered. "I FINALLY get him to come to terms with the whole human/alien thing...and NOW I have to turn green."
*********
"Okay, itinerary," Max was saying, and Michael tried to pay attention, but for one reason or another, the tapping toes of his
nervous feet in his equally nervous shoes were just too interesting to ignore.
"Yeah? What about it?" he asked, watching his freshly polished shoes chatter out an incoherent rhythm.
"Don't you want to KNOW it?"
"I thought it was pretty obvious," he said. Tap-tap-tappity-tap. "Get married, kiss the bride, throw the rice, fly to some damn
place she picked out of some damn brochure, and sex it up like bunnies."
Max cleared his throat. "Um, yeah, well...There's a little more to it than that."
Tippity-tippity-tap-tap-TAP. "Oh? Really? Like what? Cause I know about the whole bouquet and garter thing and whatever, so I get that." He grinned at the thought of slipping a garter off Maria's smooth thigh.
"Well, there's the reception, for one thing."
Reception...reception... Tappity-tappity-tip. He remembered Maria mentioning something about having vegetarian platters at their reception once when she'd stayed over at his apartment. Of course, they'd been in the shower at the time, and his attention had been elsewhere...
"So there's, like, food and stuff," he said. Tap-tip-tap-tip. "That's cool. I can deal with that."
"Well, do you know what song Maria picked out for your wedding dance?"
Tip-ta-
Michael's head snapped up, his shoes temporarily forgotten. "Wait, did you say DANCE?" he asked. "As in," he shuffled his feet in a way to denote dancing, "DANCE dance?"
Max nodded slowly. "Yes, Michael," he said, drawing out the words. "As in, the TRADITIONAL WEDDING DANCE. The
one every newlywed couple has taken part in since...oh, time immemorial? I ringing any bells here?"
Michael looked around frantically, as if searching for the headlights he found himself suddenly caught in. "Max..." he moaned. "I
don't know HOW to dance!"
Max gave him a deadpan look.
"You mean to tell me," his friend said tolerantly, "that you and Maria dated for...what? Two years? And you've been engaged for one year? That's three years you two have been together...and you never took her out to dance?"
Michael shrugged helplessly. "Sure I did," he defended himself. "We just...never got to the dancing bit."
"What on EARTH did you do instead...never mind," Max said, shaking his head at the red flush that crept up Michael's cheeks. "I don't want to know."
"Max! You've gotta teach me how to dance!" Michael begged.
"Whoa, Michael!" Max said, holding up his palms. "Dancing can't just be taught in a few minutes. It takes time. If you want to be really good, you have to practice."
"Max, I don't have TIME to practice. Just work some of your fearless-leader mojo and make it so!"
"It doesn't WORK that way, Michael."
Michael could feel the tension in the room building, growing, exploding in his stomach like a million firecrackers.
Slowly he stood, and advanced dangerously on his friend.
"You will teach me how to dance, or you will DIE," he growled.
Max gulped.
"Um, Michael...buddy," he said, "I'm...I'm a PRETTY good dancer. But not the best. I wouldn't be a good teacher in this
situation. BUT I'LL FIND SOMEONE WHO IS!" he yelped at Michael's warning snarl. "I'll find the next Ginger Rogers!"
"You do that," Michael rasped, staring him down. "And make it quick."
***********
"Um...I didn't find Isabel."
Maria rounded on Liz, eyes flashing fury. "You WHAT?" she hissed. "Where the hell were you LOOKING, Liz? You were gone ten minutes!"
"Uh..yeah. I know that." The darker girl gulped, and Maria saw her force a smile. "I found someone else though!" she chirped, but it was a tentative chirp. Like a canary that's unsure whether or not it'll be shot for tweeting.
"Who?" Maria asked, arching an angry eyebrow. "Because unless it's Cybil Shepard with some Clairol or Revlon, or whatever the hell she hawks, I'm gonna kill."
Another dark head poked through the door behind Liz.
"Hey, girlfriend!" Alex chimed, grinning at her as Liz ducked out again, apparently still in search of Isabel. "I hear you're having
issues."
Oh. God.
"Alex, WHAT the hell are you doing here?" she asked, exasperated, as she flopped down on the overstuffed sofa. One good
thing about getting married in a tourist town-- lots of hotels. She and Michael had had their pick of the litter. He'd suggested they just screw it and go back to the little porno hotel on 285 South for the ceremony.
"Then we can get started on the honeymoon early," he'd whispered in her ear, as she giggled against his shoulder.
"And what about the guests, silly?" she'd asked as her fingers played over his bare back.
"Screw 'em. Let them get their own room."
Thinking back on it now, she couldn't help but giggle. He was such a horny boy.
She sighed happily. And he was all hers. As of tonight, they would be officially "official," and no more of his I-Have-To-Be-Alone routine for her!
Her mood darkened. As of tonight, that was, if she managed to get her hair back to it's normal golden hue, and away from the
froggy shade it was now.
"So, Kermit..."
Her eyes snapped up, and she leveled Alex with a hard stare. He'd moved deeper into the room, and stood in front of her.
"WHAT'D you just call me?" she growled.
He shrugged, the fruit punch he was holding sloshing a little in its Dixie cup. "You'd prefer I call you Miss Piggy?"
Maria glared at him for a minute, but it was impossible. He had that silly grin he always wore when he knew he'd gotten her on
something, and she had to laugh.
"Fine!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. "I'm being a bitch! I know it!" She sighed, and crossed her arms over her
silk-covered stomach. She was not ABOUT to get into the gown until she was back to being blonde. "But, dammit, I think I have a right to be!"
Alex sat down beside her, and slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her up against his chest. "Aw, it'll be all right, little lady," he said, doing his worst John Wayne impression, making her giggle again. "Izzy will make it all better. She always does."
Maria cuddled against him, taking comfort in her friend's warmth. "God I hope so," she murmured. "I refuse to get married looking like Volupsia, Queen of the Space People."
"Seems oddly appropriate actually."
She smacked him playfully on the stomach, laughing. "Oh, shut up!"
"Never argue with the bride-to-be, that's my motto. Of course, I've never KNOWN any other brides-to-be..."
Maria sighed, and snuggled closer to him. Good old Alex. He always knew how to cheer her up.
Until the door flew open with a resounding crash, jarring them both from their companionable silence. And sending Alex's Dixie
cup flying as he jumped in surprise.
Maria registered three things very quickly.
The first was that the intruder was, in all actuality, Max. He looked rather petrified, and she wondered for a moment what the hell he was doing here. He was the best man, and should've been with Michael.
The second thing she noticed was that Dixie cups were incredibly aerodynamic. She watched as it arched smoothly through the air towards...
The third thing she saw.
Which was her gown.
Her homemade, specially fashioned, just-for-her, one-of-a-kind, Deluca-crafted gown.
As if in slow motion, she saw the cup begin to tip, to fall, to spill...
Bright red fruit punch cascaded down the front of her pristine white wedding gown. It soaked into the satin immediately.
To Maria, it looked like blood.
"GODDAMN IT ALL TO HELL AND BACK!" she roared, leaping to her feet and running to her gown. "I'M FUCKING
CURSED!"
"Oh, shit," she heard Alex mutter behind her.
"Um...is this a bad time to ask if Alex knows how to dance?" Max asked.
Maria turned on him, eyes flashing fire. Max took the hint, and skedaddled, shouting a quick, "Sorry!" over his shoulder.
Maria stood stock still, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. //Deep breaths, Deluca,// she told herself silently, sucking in air through her nostrils and releasing it through her mouth. //Deep, cleansing breaths.//
"Maria, you all right?" Alex asked. "You look a little green. Well, more than before."
She opened her mouth to answer him, and ended up screaming, "ISABEL!" at the top of her lungs instead.
*********
"I found someone!" Max crowed as he crashed through Michael's door, making the other alien jump a foot in the air.
"Holy crap, Max!" he yelped, putting a hand over his heart as if to slow it's beating. "KNOCK next time!"
"Oh, right," Max said, and tittered. It was the first time he'd ever heard Max titter, and it was disconcerting.
"Dude, did you hit the bottle on your way out or something?" he asked.
Max shook his head. "No."
They appraised each other for a moment.
"Who the hell'd you find?" Michael finally asked.
Max grinned, and stepped aside, arms spread wide to introduce the new arrival.
Kyle Valenti strode through the door, tuxedo-clad and grinning.
"Aw, shit," Michael muttered.
"Hey, pal!" Kyle enthused, moving further into the room. "Heard you needed dance lessons."
"Oh, hell no!" Michael growled, moving away. Looking to Max, he said, "Max, for God's sake, couldn't you have at least gotten a GIRL? Tess? Izzy? Mrs. Wabash from freshman geostudies?" He glanced Kyle up and down. "Anyone but Mr. Jock-of-the-year here?"
Max shrugged helplessly, and then scurried out the door, apparently wanting to get as far away as possible before Michael
decided to hurt him.
"Look, buddy," Kyle said, sounding less enthusiastic. "I am a frigging godsend to you." He shuffled a quick box step. "Took dance lessons as a kid to improve the coordination on the court. Why the hell do you think I was captain of the basketball team?"
"I don't know. Bribery?"
"Cute, Guerin. REAL cute."
"Kyle, I am NOT going to dance with you."
"Why not? Just cause I'm a guy?"
"Uh, gee, lemme think about this. YES!"
"Michael, loosen up, will you? You're about to marry one of the hottest girls in Roswell. No one's gonna care if you get a dance lesson from me, all right? Hell, you could frigging rhumba with an elephant, and they wouldn't think anything other than, 'Oh, how interesting.' Got it?"
Michael gave him a wary stare. "Okay," he agreed. "But you touch my ass, and I'm gonna make your head explode."
Kyle laughed at that, and moved closer. Michael shied away, but Kyle grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward.
"No need to worry about that, Michael," he said, laying a hand on Michael's shoulder and lacing their hands. "Tess and I are on
good terms now, if you know what I mean." He grinned.
Michael nodded. "Yeah, okay, whatever."
"Though if we ever break up..." The athlete waggled his eyebrows in his direction.
"Kyle, for God's sake-"
"I'm kidding, geez! God, Mr. I Lost My Sense of Humor Somewhere Up My Ass. Now," he tightened his grip on Michael's
shoulder, and looked him in the eye. "What do you want to learn? Tango? Jive? Waltz?"
Michael swallowed, and felt himself blush. "Um...which foot do I move first?"
Kyle stared at him for a moment.
"I expect to be well paid for this, you get that, right?" he said finally.
*********
"All right, so I'm standing in the foyer, greeting guests," Isabel Evans intoned majestically as she swept into Maria's small readying room, "and what do I hear but this ear-piercing shriek. At first, I'm embarrassed and mortified and try to pass it off to the guests as something dying in the air ducts, and please, just ignore it, it'll be dead soon. Then I realize that it wasn't just some random noise. It was my name. Which makes it even harder to explain to the guests, especially when I have to tell them to please excuse me, but the dying thing's calling my name and I have to go see what the hell is wrong with it." She sighed, annoyed, and crossed her arms over her pale pink bridesmaid gown.
Her eyes swept the room, taking in Maria's hair, the stained gown, and dancing a little as they lit over Alex's reclining form.
She continued, "And now I understand."
Maria looked at her, looked at herself, looked at her gown, looked back to Isabel, and burst into tears.
Almost immediately, Isabel's arms were wrapped around her, stroking her back. "Oh, honey, it's going to be all right," the taller
girl said gently. "I promise, it'll be all right."
"Isabel, everything's going wrong!" Maria sobbed. "My hair looks like I dipped it in Jello. My gown looks like evidence from a
crime scene. Liz is off searching for you. And I've been forced to listen to Alex punning for the past ten minutes, waiting for you to show up!"
"Hey!" Alex chimed in cheerfully from the sidelines. "There's nothing wrong with a good pun now and then! Or a bad one, for that matter."
They ignored him.
"Is that all?" Isabel said softly, still rocking the smaller girl from side to side, like a mother. "It's going to be just fine, Maria. I'll fix all this up for you, and you'll be good as new, I promise."
Maria sniffled, and looked up into her friend's lovely face. "You sure?"
Isabel flashed her a grin. "Positive."
Maria smiled brightly. "Oh, thank God!" she exclaimed, hugging the other girl tightly. "Isabel, thank you!"
The tall blonde laughed, and rumpled her hair, but did so in such a way that it didn't disturb the perfect ringlets. "What're friends for?" she asked.
Maria drew back a few steps then, and held her hands out to the side. "Okay," she said. "Go for it. Work your magic. Make me like new again." She closed her eyes and waited.
Nothing happened.
She opened her eye a crack, and saw Isabel looking uncomfortable.
Isabel never looked uncomfortable. It wasn't in her Ways To Look Registry.
"Izzy," she said patiently. "I'm waiting. Fix me." She closed her eyes again.
"Um..."
Isabel had just said, "Um..." Isabel Evans NEVER said, "Um..." Never. EVER.
Maria's eyes snapped open. "What!?" she cried, exasperated. "What is it? Just...just..." She waved her hands around a bit.
"Twiddle your fingers and wiggle your toes and presto chango! Everything's back to normal, and I can get married without having to inflict bodily harm on any members of the audience as I walk down the aisle."
She watched the taller girl shuffle her feet, and REALLY began to worry.
"Actually...I can't do it just yet," the statuesque blonde said, not meeting her eyes.
"WHAT?!" Maria shrieked, eyes bulging.
Isabel looked at her helplessly. "The flowers!" she explained, shrugging sadly. "They arrived, and they were ALL the wrong color, so... Well, I had to go around and make them all the RIGHT color, and that just drained my power so that I couldn't do more right now than make your hair lighter and turn the punch stain pink." She shrugged again. "It should be back in an hour or two, maybe a little more, but until then...I can't do anything."
Maria seethed quietly. "Isabel," she said through gritted teeth. "I am getting married in a little over two hours. If I am forced to
walk down that aisle with green hair and a punch-stained dress, people will die. It will NOT be a pretty sight. Do you
understand?"
Isabel nodded.
"Now," she continued, "what can we do to rectify this situation?"
There was silence for a minute as they all pondered.
Suddenly, Alex sat bolt upright. "TESS!" he cried out.
"YES!" Maria and Isabel shouted in unison.
"YOU'RE THE BEST!" Maria enthused.
"I'M IMPRESSED!" Isabel crowed.
"Where do we find our guest?" he asked, standing up.
"With Kyle's my guess," Isabel chimed in, taking his arm.
"Wearing my bridesmaid dress," Maria said.
"Gee, THAT was a test," Alex joked, and they all laughed.
"Tell her I'm stressed!" Maria called after them as they hurried out the door.
"We'll do our best!" Isabel called back, and they were gone.
Maria paused for a second, brow furrowed in thought.
"Why am I in the mood for a Dr. Seuss fest?" she murmured, then shrugged it off as nerves.
*********
"ONE, two, three, four. ONE, two, three, four. That's it, nice and easy. ONE, two, three, four. ONE, two, three, OW!"
Michael winced as, for the fifth time in as many minutes, he trod on Kyle's foot. "Sorry, man," he said as Kyle jerked away from him. "I'll, uh...I'll pay for the stitches or whatever."
Kyle was massaging his foot, and he stared up at him from under his bangs. "Okay, I think we're trying the wrong tactic," he said, straightening and lightly putting pressure on his abused foot. "How about I try leading this time, and you follow? It's not how it'd normally be, but just for now, I think it's what you need to get in the swing of things."
Michael nodded, and took Kyle's hand again. The athlete grabbed his hand and placed it on his muscular shoulder, then placed
his own hand on Michael's hip.
"Okay, just follow my lead, all right?" Kyle said, and Michael nodded.
He began to move as Kyle led him around the floor. Admittedly, he wasn't exacty Mr. Smooth, but at least he wasn't stepping on the other guy's feet anymore.
"Just imagine yourself on a big dance floor," Kyle said. "Picture one of those ballrooms you see on PBS or whatever. 'Strictly
Ballroom.' You ever seen that movie?"
"Um, no."
"Oh. I have. Tess loves it. Something about it being Australian, I dunno. Anyway, yeah, so, picture yourself in one of those big
dance rooms. And pretend I'm Maria."
Michael snorted. "Kyle, buddy, you are so far from being Maria, it's unbelievable."
"For the sake of argument, Michael, and to save you the public humiliation of being bawled out by Maria for stepping all over her gown, just pretend, all right? For God's sake."
"Fine," Michael agreed grudgingly, and tried to focus on what Kyle had told him.
Slowly, the tiny room seemed to morph and change itself into a ballroom. He could almost see the faces of the crowd watching
him as he danced with his bride. It made him grin.
"Dude, awesome!"
Kyle's exclamation jarred him from his visualization, and he stumbled.
"What!" he cried out, regaining his balance. "Damn, Kyle, I was just getting the hang of it!"
"That's what I was saying!" Kyle said cheerfully, grinning. "You weren't even thinking about it! That's good! See? I knew you
could do it! All right, let's try again." He repositioned their hands, once again so that Michael was the follower. "And, ONE, two, three, four. ONE, two, three, four..."
The room disappeared again, and once more, he was dancing with Maria in a palatial ballroom. It was gorgeous. Chandeliers
burned above them, sparkling on the wooden floor. The crowd was decked out in formal evening wear, but none of them could compare to how beautiful Maria looked in her pristine bridal gown. Her eyes sparkled extra green in the light from the
chandeliers. Her small, round face shone up at him, and he could hear her musical laugh, like church bells.
And her lips.
Her kissable, perfect, pink lips.
Slowly, he bent forward, and-
"DUDE! I think you're taking this visualization a BIT too seriously!"
Michael's eyes snapped open, and he found himself a few millimeter's away from Kyle's face.
And lips.
"What the-!" he began, but was cut off by a soft cough from the doorway.
"Am I interrupting something?" a familiar voice asked, and Michael paled. //Oh, shit,// he thought.
He pushed away from Kyle, sending the athlete sprawling backwards. "Of course not, Mrs. Deluca!" he exclaimed, smiling his
biggest, boldest, manliest smile. "Kyle was just...checking my teeth for me! Wouldn't do to marry your beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, and totally feminine daughter with a huge wad of broccoli between the old bicuspids, you know?" He laughed, and it was so incredibly fake, he almost ripped his own throat out to shut it off.
Amy-- who looked quite lovely in a simple, pale violet dress-- gave him a weird look. //Weird look. Weird look bad. Me no like weird look.// "I was wondering if I could speak to you, Michael," she said, her eyes darting between him and Kyle curiously. Michael wondered if she'd think him even odder if he started furiously ramming his head into the wall.
"Of course, Mrs. Deluca!" he enthused, hurrying towards her and taking her by the arm. "Anything for the beautiful mother of my gorgeous future wife! Anything! Kyle, get the hell out of here! Anything, I tell you!"
Kyle stumbled to his feet, and Michael ignored him, keeping the smile plastered on his face.
"Dude, remember. I expect payment," Kyle muttered as he moved for the door.
If Michael had possessed the ability, he would have gone telekinetic on the athlete's ass and slammed him into a nearby fire
extinguisher. As it was, he replied, between gritted teeth, "Absolutely, Kyle! You will be well reimbursed for checking my teeth
for broccoli and/or other vegetable products!"
He saw Kyle meander out the door, and almost breathed a sigh of relief.
Almost.
"What would you like to speak with me about, Mrs. Deluca?" he asked, and he discovered it was very hard to speak when you hadn't taken a breath in over thirty seconds.
Amy gave him another weird look-- //Bad! Bad!//-- and shook herself. "Yes, what'd I want to say?" she said, asking herself more than him.
"Ha-ha! Can't remember it? Must've been a lie!" //What the FUCK!! SHUT UP, ASSHOLE!//
Another weird look. //Oh....God...//
"Yes, anyway," Amy said, moving away from him slightly. He cursed silently, but said nothing aloud. "I just wanted to tell you, I'm glad my daughter is marrying you."
He almost fell over, he was so shocked. "You are?" he asked, then, adjusting quickly, "I mean, you are! That's so great, Mrs.
Deluca! I'm honored."
She smiled thinly at him, and he shut his mouth off.
"Yes, I just wanted to say, I've seen you two together over the past three years, and... You bring out the best in my daughter,
Michael. You make her smile, and you make her laugh, and you make her eyes glow." She smiled warmly at him then, and he
began to feel a little more at ease.
"And I trust my daughter," she continued, touching his arm gently. "She believes in you, so I believe in you. And from what I've
seen..." she trailed off for a moment, and glanced at the spot where he'd been standing with Kyle, before continuing, "...for the
most part hasn't made me want to change my opinion. You're a good young man, Michael Guerin. You'll make my daughter
happy."
"I'd do anything for her, Mrs. Deluca," he said, and he meant it, too. He would.
She smiled. "I know you would," she told him. "Which is why I know you'll listen to what I say now with the utmost sincerity."
He leaned forward.
"If you ever hurt my baby," Amy said firmly, and there was that familiar Deluca flame in her eyes, "ever make her cry, ever make her wilt; if you ever give her any reason to doubt you, or for that matter, give ME reason to doubt you...I'll swat your ass out of her life with more than just a newspaper, do you hear me?"
Michael swallowed, and nodded.
She waggled a finger in his face. "I've got connections in law enforcement, buddy. Don't think I won't do it!"
He nodded again. "I'd want you to, ma'am," he said softly. "If I ever hurt her, I'll do it myself."
He saw her eyes soften, and the flame died down a bit.
She reached out to cup his cheek. "Such a good boy," she said, patting his face lightly. "Maria made a good choice."
He smiled. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Oh, please!" she chortled, smacking him softly on the shoulder. "Call me Amy! None of this mother-in-law stuff for me! Makes me feel seventy!"
He laughed, "Yes, Mrs...I mean, yes, Amy."
She grinned at him, and elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "A fast learner, too!" She chuckled, and turned as if to leave.
Before heading for the door, however, she glanced back at him and grinned.
"And honey, if you needed to learn how to dance, you could always have come to me." She capered a few quick steps. "High
school dance champ of my senior class." She winked at him, and strode elegantly out the door.
Michael watched her go, and stared for a long time at the place she'd disappeared.
Then...
"IDIOT!" he berated himself, slapping himself repeatedly. "IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT!"
Hurrying over to the full length mirror in the opposite corner of the room, he turned around so he had a good view of his backside, and began to kick himself. It was quite a feat, but his legs were long, so it wasn't impossible.
"You *kick* are *kick* an *kick* ASSHOLE!" KICK, KICK, KICK!
"I thought that was a given," he heard Isabel say from the entryway.
Looking back to the door, he saw Isabel and Alex smirking at him, obviously trying to hold in laughter.
"What the hell do you two want?" he asked, peeved.
"Have you seen Tess?" Alex asked. "Maria needs to see her."
He felt his face go all dreamy again at Maria's name, and his anger melted away. "No, can't say as I have," he said. "What does
Maria need her for?"
Isabel shrugged. "Oh...just a few hair things. Girl stuff. You wouldn't get it."
"Ah, right."
"Have you seen Kyle then?" Alex asked. "They're usually joined at the hip, so..." He trailed off at the dark look that passed over Michael's face. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Kyle just left," Michael growled. "Tess wasn't with him, but I'm sure he went to find her. Check all the broomclosets."
"Actually, I think Kyle and Tess have graduated to pantries and shower stalls now, Michael," Isabel said, eyes twinkling. "Some people don't take as long to get out of the Eraser Room as others."
He glowered at her. "Go make trouble somewhere else, would you?" he instructed them. "And while you're at it, find Max and
send him back here. He ran off earlier, and I need him to do something for me."
"Oh?" Alex said. "What's that exactly?"
"He's my best man. I need him to do what he's best at. Namely, I need him to soundly kick my ass for me, because this
self-inflicted shit just isn't working."
********
Maria paced frantically. Okay, it had been-- check her watch-- six minutes and thirty seven seconds. They should have been able to find one demure blonde with dark blue eyes by now! God knows there weren't a lot of them around Roswell!
She let her eyes wander around the room, staunchly avoiding looking either at her gown or in the mirror. Both images depressed her.
"Happy face!" she kept telling herself cheerfully, forcing a smile. "Happy, happy, happy face! You're getting married in a few
hours! Happy! Be HAPPY, dammit!"
"Um...Is this the bride's chambers?"
The voice was like a gift from the gods.
Maria swirled towards the door, and the smile she wore wasn't fake this time. It couldn't have been more real.
"TESS!" she crowed, holding her arms out to the girl and beaming. "YOU CAME!"
The petite blonde smiled. "I heard you were looking for me," she said. Maria saw her eyes dart to her hair and dress. "And I think I know why."
Maria sighed heavily as Tess walked into the room. "I think I'm cursed," she groaned. "My hair...my gown...Izzy's powers...a
future husband who's as skittish as a horse in a hurricane..." She covered her eyes with the palm of her hand. "My life...is a
nightmare."
Tess made sympathetic noises, and Maria felt the other girl wrap warm arms around her. She sighed and leaned against the petite girl.
"It'll be all right, Maria," Tess said cheerfully, patting her back. "The hair is fixable, the gown's no problem, Izzy's powers will
come back, and Michael..." She trailed off and pulled back, looking Maria straight in the eye.
"And Michael loves you so much, he gave up a home planet and a crown to be with you," she said, grinning. "I'd say that's pretty special."
Maria sniffled, and wiped her eyes, praying she wasn't smearing her make-up. "You did the same thing," she said. "And Max.
And Izzy."
Tess laughed softly. "Yeah, but we're not MICHAEL."
Maria shared a look with her, then giggled. "No," she agreed, laughing a little more. "You're not." She sighed. "Thank you, Tess."
Tess squeezed her hand. "Don't thank me till I've fixed you up entirely," she said.
Maria smiled. "So you can change my hair and fix my dress?"
Tess nodded.
Maria hugged her spontaneously. "If, in the future, I ever curse the fact that you guys are aliens," she said, "just smack me, 'kay?"
Tess laughed softly. "Whatever you say."
******
A FEW HOURS LATER, JUST BEFORE THE CEREMONY....
"ONE, two, three, four, ONE, two, three, four..."
"Um, Michael?"
"Shut up, Max, I'm counting."
"You're also following. Aren't you supposed to lead?"
Michael glared at his best man. "Look," he said testily, "when YOU get married someday, do you think I'm gonna just stand there and critique every little thing you do?"
Max gave him a deadpan look. "Yeah. Don't you always?"
Michael glowered at him for a minute, then sighed.
"Just shut up and lead, will you?" he muttered.
********
"Hair?"
"Blonde."
"Dress?"
"White."
"And?"
"And it looks great."
"Future husband?"
"Ready and waiting."
"Chances I'm going to wake up tomorrow and regret doing this?"
"None whatsoever."
Maria smiled into the mirror, watching the reflection of her best friend over her shoulder. "Thanks, Lizzy," she said. "I needed
that."
Liz grinned, and hugged her gently from behind. "Hey, I'm the Maid of Honor!" she said cheerfully. "Aren't I supposed to suck up to you so you won't make me dive for the bouquet?"
They shared a laugh then.
"Everybody ready?" Isabel asked, poking her head in the door.
Maria turned around to face her. "How do I look?" she asked nervously, holding out her arms so Izzy could see the form fitting
satin-and-lace bodice and the flowing skirt. "Do you think off-the-shoulder was the right choice?"
Isabel beamed, and moved deeper into the room. "You look gorgeous, Maria," she said gently, minutely adjusting a nonexistent strand of misplaced hair. "Michael's going to have a heart attack when he sees you."
"God, I hope not. That's the last thing I need going wrong."
"I don't think you have to worry about that!" Tess enthused from the doorway as she entered. "He's at the altar now, prepped and ready to go. He looks a little nervous, but I wouldn't say he's on the verge of a coronary."
Maria giggled. "Thanks for the update, Tess."
The other girl winked. "Anytime."
"How's the bride-to-be?" came a new voice from the door, and Maria looked up beaming.
"Sheriff!" she exclaimed.
Sheriff Valenti strode into the readying room, grinning. "You were expecting someone else to walk you down the aisle?" he asked. "I think your mother might have been a bit surprised."
She laughed and hugged him.
"How is Mom?" she asked softly as she pulled back.
Valenti smiled broadly. "Already bawling."
Maria giggled.
Which was when the music began to play.
"Gah!" she yelped, and suddenly the room was a flurry of motion.
"PLACES EVERYONE!" Isabel hollered, taking control efficiently, as per usual. Quickly, everyone was lined up and ready to
go.
"Good luck, honey," Liz said, hugging Maria quickly one last time. "Though you're not going to need it."
Maria rolled her eyes. "Don't be so sure, Liz," she said. "With my luck, Spaceboy will be so nervous, he won't even be able to
remember his own name."
**********
"Michael, do you take Maria to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage..."
She was beautiful. Stunning. Magnificent. A vision in satin and lace.
"...Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her..."
From where he stood opposite her, Michael could see Maria's creamy shoulders beneath her gauzy veil. Her bright green eyes
dancing as she smiled up at him. Her full lips, painted a smooth pink that was entirely unnecessary, but beautiful nonetheless.
"...For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health..."
Sickness? How could anyone be sick gazing at this lovely being day in and day out? How could the mere thought of a cold, a
cough, the flu, even cross someone's mind?
And who needed rich? He'd rather live in a cardboard box with Maria than a palace with anyone else.
And better. It would always be better. He'd MAKE it better for her. He'd sculpt her a world of rose petals and pristine waterfalls if that was what she wanted. He'd give her the sun in a suitcase.
"...And forsaking all others, be faithful only to her. So long as you both shall live?"
Forsaking all others.
There WERE no others.
He wondered, briefly, if he and Maria weren't perhaps the only people who ever really existed.
Suddenly, there was a soft cough behind him, and an elbow jabbed him in the back. He glanced over his shoulder.
"Um, Michael?" Max said softly. "This is the bit we talked about? You know, where you say 'I do.'"
"What? Oh! Right!" He looked back to his bride, blushing wildly, and saw that she was giggling behind her veil. It made him grin. He loved her laugh. It sounded like starfire.
"I do," he said tenderly, squeezing Maria's hands.
She squeezed back.
********
"Maria, do you take Michael to be your wedded husband to live together in marriage...."
He'd almost forgotten to say yes there, but Maria didn't mind. She liked being his chosen distraction. It made her feel like a
singular soul in a field of the lost.
"...Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him..."
His eyes were deep, puppy dog brown; like a Valentine's Day chocolate. Her smile grew broader, because she new he had a
soft, sweet center-- like caramel-- that was hers to savor now. All hers.
Keep him? Yeah, she'd keep him.
"...For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health..."
//Never leave me, never leave me, never leave me, never leave-//
Maria shut off her internal worry center when she saw the utter softness on Michael's face as he gazed down at her. Only rarely had she ever seen his rough edges smoothed to such an infinite degree; seen his shoulders so loose, and his smile so gentle.
How could the word "better" even exist in a world where Michael Guerin could hold her trembling hands in his steady ones on
their wedding day? Because it didn't get any better than this.
"...And forsaking all others, be faithful only to him So long as you both shall live?"
She smiled up at Michael. //I love you,// she thought, and wished that he could read her mind.
"I do," she murmured.
And meant every word.
********
"And now, by the powers vested in me by this church, and in the presence of God and these witnesses, I hereby pronounce thee man and wife. Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder." The jovial minister turned to Michael then.
"Michael? You may kiss your bride."
Michael grinned down at Maria. "That I can do," he said, and Maria's smile turned into a beacon, beckoning him down.
He heard soft laughter at his comment as he swept up her veil and gazed down into his wife's face.
His wife.
God, who would have ever thought it could happen to him? That he could love someone enough to stay with them forever? He
hadn't thought he had it in him.
"I love you," he whispered, taken aback by the hot lump in his throat.
"Love you, too," Maria murmured, and he saw tears perched on her perfect lashes. She must have been thinking the same thing.
"Shhh..." he murmured, leaning forward. "I mean it."
"I know," she said, softer than her last whisper, as she slipped her arms around his neck. "That's why I'm crying."
Then their lips touched, and the rest of the world blacked out as they shared a flash of golden rain on a field of rainbow grass
beneath a clear blue sky.
********
A SHORT TIME LATER, AT THE CRASHDOWN...
"Well, Guerin, looks like you got through that more or less without a hitch," Kyle observed, cruising over to where Maria stood, Michael at her side, near the front door, greeting any stragglers who had as yet to arrive at the reception.
"Cute, Kyle, real cute," Michael said, but he smiled as he said it. "You should put that on napkins or something."
Maria giggled, and rubbed his stomach rhythmically as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Shut up, Spaceboy, and take a compliment when you get one."
Michael hugged her gently. "Yes, HONEY."
She laughed.
"Smile you two!"
There was a bright flash, and Maria flinched back, holding a hand over her eyes. "What the-? Tess, I'm blind!"
The bubbly blonde scampered forward, her 35mm dangling from her wrist, and wrapped an arm around Kyle's waist. "Sorry,
Maria," she apologized, still grinning. "You two just looked so CUTE there. It required a Kodak moment."
Kyle chuckled and draped his arm around her shoulders. "Let's just hope it doesn't come out like Guerin's senior photo did," he joked.
Michael glowered at him, and Maria tried to stifle a chuckle.
"Was it MY fault the guy was drunk when he took the damn thing?" Michael muttered.
"No, I suppose not."
"Thank you."
"But couldn't you have, I don't know, asked him to get your HEAD in the shot?"
"Kyle?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
Suddenly, there was the sound of crackling static from the direction of the audio system. Maria craned her neck around to see
Alex standing with a microphone beneath the mirrorball that Mr. Parker had dug out of the basement especially for the occasion.
"This thing on?" Alex asked into the mic. Satisfied that everyone could hear him and that he had their attention, he grinned widely, and began.
"Well, everyone, it finally happened. Hell froze over. So if you had any bets going with anyone that hinged on that little point, then you're going to have to do some fast-talking to get out of them."
Everyone laughed, and Maria beamed up at Michael, who was grinning.
"No, seriously folks," Alex continued, "I don't think I'm alone in saying that there was a time I didn't think this day was going to
happen. I mean Michael...buddy... If you took one more road trip, I was going to sign you up for the Hell's Angels!"
They all laughed at that, and Michael pretended to hide his eyes with embarrassment.
"Then, Maria. Girl, I love you like a sister, but when you would get angry with him... PHEW! I did NOT want to be in your way!"
She giggled, and buried her face briefly in Michael's arm.
"But then one day," Alex was saying, and his voice had taken on a more contemplative tone, "that just...changed. It seemed like it happened overnight. Everyone else remember this? How the arguments changed? How the resolutions happened sooner, easier? And how the periods between each new explosion seemed longer?"
There were nods throughout the crowd.
Alex smiled fondly at Maria and Michael. "Well, I think that's when I realized that, not only MIGHT they get married someday,
but it was impossible that they WOULDN'T. It was a gamble of probability that didn't even deserve any kind of computation.
Because it was SUPPOSED to happen." He shared a secret smile with Maria. "It was destiny."
She heard Michael chuckle above her, and she hugged him tightly. Her face was glowing, but she didn't care. She could be lit up like Rudolph and it wouldn't have mattered. Not today.
Well... As long as her hair wasn't green.
"So, I say congratulations to the couple who defied all odds to become the FIRST of us to tie the knot!" Alex crowed, raising the champagne glass he held in his free hand.
There were murmurs of agreement, and the clinking of a few glasses around the room.
"And now..." Alex said, backing up to the audio system and cueing something on the cd player. "Time for the dance!"
********
Michael tensed almost immediately, but tried to shake it off as Maria tugged on him.
"Come on, Spaceboy!" she enthused. "You'll love the song I picked!"
He bit back a groan, and led her to the dance floor. His discomfort was eased a little by the applause that surrounded them as
they walked. It was warming, to have so many people rooting for him.
He swung her around into his arms when they reached the space beneath the mirrorball.
"My sweet prince," she teased.
"My princess," he joked back, and she laughed.
The first bars of a familiar tune began to play, and he grinned at her.
"Our prom song," he said, placing his palm on her hip and taking her soft hand in his.
"Naturally," Maria murmured, sliding her free hand up around his neck. "The one you dedicated to me. The only time we ever
kinda danced. It seemed the perfect choice."
He smiled at her, as the words began.
Earth angel, earth angel
Will you be mine?
Love you all the time
I'm just a fool
A fool in love with you…
She rested her cheek against his chest, as they began swaying gently with the music.
Earth angel, earth angel
The one I adore
Love you forever and ever more
I'm just a fool
A fool in love with you…
"Mmm... Michael?" she murmured against him.
"Yeah, baby?" He rested his cheek against her hair, closing his eyes and rememorizing her scent.
I fell for you and I knew
The vision of your love-loveliness
I hope and I pray that someday
I'll be the vision of your hap-happiness!
"Do you think anyone ever wrote a song called Space Angel?"
He chuckled, rubbing her back. "I don't think so."
"Darn."
Earth angel, earth angel
Please be mine
My darling dear
Love you all the time
I'm just a fool
A fool in love with you…
"Why darn?"
"Cause I don't have a song to dedicate to YOU."
I fell for you and I knew
The vision of your loveliness
I hope and pray that someday
That I'll be the vision of your happiness…
He grinned and kissed the top of her head as other couples began to join them on the floor. "We'll just say this one's for the both of us, baby," he whispered. "Cause I'm here to stay."
She giggled. "And Michael?"
Earth angel, earth angel
Please be mine
My darling dear
Love you all the time
I'm just a fool…
"Yeah, baby?"
"Why am I leading?"
A fool in love with you-ou (you, you, you)
He sighed against her hair. "Long, long story," he murmured. "But we've got plenty of time for me to tell it. Like the next seventy years."
"Make it eighty."
"Ninety."
"You're on."
The End