Trusting Your Instincts (PG) - Roswell
Title: Trusting Your Instincts
Author: Tommygirl
Fandom: Roswell, Maria/Michael
Rating: PG
A/N: Written for the
15minuteficlets latest word challenge so somewhat open-ended and unbeta'd. Cheesiness abounds. Feedback appreciated.
word # 65 - impression
**
Maria wasn’t sure when she stopped trusting her first impressions of people—it was always something she felt comfortable with, figuring someone out, knowing instantly whether a person would click with her or not—but she decided it probably occurred sometime around the alien invasion.
Okay, so the Czechoslovakians had been around since she was little and never did she get a screaming instinct “from another planet.” But the point was…they, Michael specifically, were the first people to make her doubt this finely-tuned ability of hers.
Because she had been wrong about Michael.
Not quite wrong so much as a bit off track. He was abrasive and angry and oh so annoying, but he was also kind and loyal and so much more than she ever expected. Not to mention, he was possibly the best kisser ever—methodical and torturous in an exquisite way.
As the van continued to drive down the road, no one saying a word and Michael’s arm draped carefully over her shoulder, Maria realized that the one thing she relied on most was broken…and she probably needed it more now than ever. How would she be able to spot the good people she could trust in a crowd as they wandered to…wherever? Would she become like Michael, Max, and Isabel? So closed off, so sure that most people were out to get them that it took an act of God to get them to let someone into their small group.
She didn’t want that and they couldn’t afford for her to become that. The group needed someone with an ability to get information. Maybe that was her role. Maybe that would give her some place in the unit that was necessary—and what if it stopped working? Would they dump her on the side of the road? Tell her to get back to normal and ordinary?
Never had those two words felt to awful. Never had she wished that neither applied to her. Though they did. That was always everyone else's first impression of her. Normal Maria. Ordinary teenage girl Maria.
She sighed and Michael must have felt her muscles tense up because he pulled her closer to him. She missed his smell—a mix pine deodorizer, dove soap, and whatever cheap laundry detergent was on sale—and the way she fit perfectly against him. She didn’t move away, too caught up in the temporary reverie of being with him again, no matter what the circumstances.
Maria tried to remind herself that she had broken things off with him, that she had wanted more for her life. Though what that elusive "more" was she never did figure out and, when it came right down to it, she liked who she was best when Michael was around. She loved being able to read a situation based on whether or not words caught in Michael’s throat (sure sign he was going to say something serious) or if his hands curled up into tight fists (the “maria, I’m going to kill you soon” angerball). When she was with Michael, she could trust her judgement because she knew what to expect.
In that she expected the unexpected. It was a given. Love an alien, prepare for anything.
And she did. Love him. She hadn’t said that to him yet and she wasn’t about to in a van full of her friends while they all tried to make sense of what was happening. Instead, she curled up in his arms, smiled up at him, and said, “It’s going to be okay, Michael.”
He nodded. Face still neutral but his grip on her increasing. He said, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know that.”
“It’s not too late to change your mind, Maria,” he said. She glanced up at him and could see the worry glistening in his eyes.
She smiled and said, “I belong here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Like I always knew that I would end up with you.”
“Liar.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Eighth grade…junior high graduation…you said that I was an unfeeling Neanderthal with no future.”
“I’ve learned not to base everything on first impressions...even if you were an incredible jerk that day.”
“I thought you were cute.”
Maria laughed, “Who’s lying now?” Michael shrugged and Maria said, “I might have misjudged you a bit. About the unfeeling part. You’re still a Neanderthal.”
Michael rolled his eyes and said, “We’ll be okay.”
In that moment, Maria knew he was right. Her gut instinct was working again and it was screaming the same thing: that going with Michael was the right decision. That was all anyone could do really. Trust their instincts and the people in their lives. It was all a guessing game sometimes, but definitely worth the risk.
Because what she never told Michael was, that even during creating that first impression of him, something in her chest had fluttered slightly, something had tried to warn her that he wasn't what he seemed.
Yeah, her instincts still worked just fine.
{Fin}
Author: Tommygirl
Fandom: Roswell, Maria/Michael
Rating: PG
A/N: Written for the
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word # 65 - impression
**
Maria wasn’t sure when she stopped trusting her first impressions of people—it was always something she felt comfortable with, figuring someone out, knowing instantly whether a person would click with her or not—but she decided it probably occurred sometime around the alien invasion.
Okay, so the Czechoslovakians had been around since she was little and never did she get a screaming instinct “from another planet.” But the point was…they, Michael specifically, were the first people to make her doubt this finely-tuned ability of hers.
Because she had been wrong about Michael.
Not quite wrong so much as a bit off track. He was abrasive and angry and oh so annoying, but he was also kind and loyal and so much more than she ever expected. Not to mention, he was possibly the best kisser ever—methodical and torturous in an exquisite way.
As the van continued to drive down the road, no one saying a word and Michael’s arm draped carefully over her shoulder, Maria realized that the one thing she relied on most was broken…and she probably needed it more now than ever. How would she be able to spot the good people she could trust in a crowd as they wandered to…wherever? Would she become like Michael, Max, and Isabel? So closed off, so sure that most people were out to get them that it took an act of God to get them to let someone into their small group.
She didn’t want that and they couldn’t afford for her to become that. The group needed someone with an ability to get information. Maybe that was her role. Maybe that would give her some place in the unit that was necessary—and what if it stopped working? Would they dump her on the side of the road? Tell her to get back to normal and ordinary?
Never had those two words felt to awful. Never had she wished that neither applied to her. Though they did. That was always everyone else's first impression of her. Normal Maria. Ordinary teenage girl Maria.
She sighed and Michael must have felt her muscles tense up because he pulled her closer to him. She missed his smell—a mix pine deodorizer, dove soap, and whatever cheap laundry detergent was on sale—and the way she fit perfectly against him. She didn’t move away, too caught up in the temporary reverie of being with him again, no matter what the circumstances.
Maria tried to remind herself that she had broken things off with him, that she had wanted more for her life. Though what that elusive "more" was she never did figure out and, when it came right down to it, she liked who she was best when Michael was around. She loved being able to read a situation based on whether or not words caught in Michael’s throat (sure sign he was going to say something serious) or if his hands curled up into tight fists (the “maria, I’m going to kill you soon” angerball). When she was with Michael, she could trust her judgement because she knew what to expect.
In that she expected the unexpected. It was a given. Love an alien, prepare for anything.
And she did. Love him. She hadn’t said that to him yet and she wasn’t about to in a van full of her friends while they all tried to make sense of what was happening. Instead, she curled up in his arms, smiled up at him, and said, “It’s going to be okay, Michael.”
He nodded. Face still neutral but his grip on her increasing. He said, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know that.”
“It’s not too late to change your mind, Maria,” he said. She glanced up at him and could see the worry glistening in his eyes.
She smiled and said, “I belong here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Like I always knew that I would end up with you.”
“Liar.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Eighth grade…junior high graduation…you said that I was an unfeeling Neanderthal with no future.”
“I’ve learned not to base everything on first impressions...even if you were an incredible jerk that day.”
“I thought you were cute.”
Maria laughed, “Who’s lying now?” Michael shrugged and Maria said, “I might have misjudged you a bit. About the unfeeling part. You’re still a Neanderthal.”
Michael rolled his eyes and said, “We’ll be okay.”
In that moment, Maria knew he was right. Her gut instinct was working again and it was screaming the same thing: that going with Michael was the right decision. That was all anyone could do really. Trust their instincts and the people in their lives. It was all a guessing game sometimes, but definitely worth the risk.
Because what she never told Michael was, that even during creating that first impression of him, something in her chest had fluttered slightly, something had tried to warn her that he wasn't what he seemed.
Yeah, her instincts still worked just fine.
{Fin}