Author: Courtney

Email: MsDawCreek@aol.com

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Some dreams are more real than you think.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Spoilers: None really

Thanks: Who else would I thank but the RACers? Cheese grits and Iced tea for all! Also, this was written in response to a challenge by Zinnia on the RAC list. Here's your bathtub fun Zi! :-)

Note: This is part of a series of "dream" fics. There is no need to read them all to understand. Each revolves around a different Roswell couple.

Additional Note: This story got quite a bit "angstier" than the previous ones. So, I'm not gonna call it PWP because you may be able to pick some semblance of a plot out of here. Anyway, Michael and Maria may end up getting another turn at this. Those two just don't cooperate well with un-angst-ridden sex. Why do you think that is?

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A warm bath. That was her ultimate relaxation technique; the one place where she could lose all her tension and the stress of her day and think of nothing except herself. Maybe that was why she ended up there, even in her dreams.

She was definitely dreaming; this wasn't the tiny tub in the bathroom of the tiny apartment she shared with her mother. This bathtub was huge. She could lose herself in the satiny, jasmine scented water as she floated in the fragrant depths of the imaginary place.

Her day had been a nightmare. There was work, and school, and her mother . . . it was just too much to think about. She wouldn't let anything bad enter her mind, not here. Sinking down lower in the water, she smiled softly at the luxury it provided. This was perfect.

Her eyes were closed when he entered the room, but she could feel him. He had come to her, just as she'd hoped he would. Whether it was real or fantasy didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was there . . . and so was she.

She heard him shedding his clothes but did not open her eyes. She remained still beneath the water, waiting for him. When she finally felt his foot brush her leg as he got into the tub, she said, "I'm glad you made it."

He smiled as he looked down at the goddess that was buried beneath the mountain of bubbles below him. "So am I," he replied.

He lowered his body into the water on the opposite end of the garden tub so that they were facing one another. When he was finally sitting, she opened her eyes. She devoured him with her gaze, admiring the fine lines of his arms and upper body, his neck, his hands . . . he was beautiful. Everything about him made her want him. In every place where his skin touched hers beneath the warm water she felt as if she were on fire. "Michael," she said softly. It was all that needed to be said.

"Lay back," he instructed huskily.

"Hmm?" she questioned.

"Just lay back. Close your eyes." She nodded and did as he said. She felt him take both of her ankles in his hands and maneuver her body so that her legs lay on either side of his. Thoughts of what he planned to do next caused a shiver to run through her body.

His large, cool hands smoothed over her calved beneath the water. He kneaded the sore muscles tenderly but thoroughly, causing her mouth to open in an unheard moan. His skillful hands traveled higher, up to her knees, massaging her warm skin and taking her mind off everything but that moment. All she could focus on was his hands on her skin, his body so close to hers . . . she wanted him to touch her everywhere.

"Michael," she moaned. The sound of his name on her lips made him smile. If she only knew what that sound did to him, how it drove him mad to hear her say his name that way. He continued to stroke her thighs with his strong fingers, enjoying every minute of this time when he could touch her and not be afraid, not worry what would happen next. Here in her dreams, they could always be together.

She was enjoying the feel of his hands inching higher and higher up her body so much that it occupied her every thought. She didn't even feel him moving in the water until the pad of his foot came to rest near his hand on her inner thigh. She gasped, her eyes fluttering at the sensation as his hands left and his foot continued the journey alone. Maria sighed contentedly as his toes rubbed along her skin and got closer and closer to their final destination.

As he moved along her flesh, Michael could not tear his eyes away from the woman in front of him. She was so beautiful, so perfect . . . he could have gladly spent the rest of his life in a place where only the two of them existed. He was completely enraptured by her.

He didn't know what made him think to start rubbing his toes along her skin. It just seemed a better way to lay back and watch her as she squirmed with pleasure beneath his touch. He couldn't think of any sight he preferred to that.

His toes had moved up her thigh and begun rubbing along the curls at the juncture of her legs. Maria moaned and threw her head back against the rim of the tub. He moved his foot lower, skimming the surface of her, before finally letting his toes touch her fully.

The water had softened his skin and the feel of his toes against her was incredible. She sunk lower into the tub, wanting to get as close as possible to his roving touch. He pressed harder, moving his toes from her hot center up to her clit. When he touched her, he thought she was going to explode. She cried out his name in a ragged breath and her head dipped back even further as his toes continued to circle the bundle of nerves.

"Oh yeah . . . God . . . yeah . . ." she said hoarsely as she felt her orgasm quickly building from his masterful touch. Her hands clutched at the side of the tub as she felt the heat pooling within her and her whole body prepared for the inevitable jolt it was about to received.

Michael couldn't take his eyes off this ravishing creature. Her eyes were still screwed shut; her head leaned back over the edge of the tub. Her mouth was agape and her breath came in rasping puffs as he felt her body starting to tighten. He watched her arch her back out of the water, saw her breasts, wet and shimmering from the jasmine bath oil as they were freed from the sea of bubbles. He wanted her more than he ever knew it was possible to want another.

She felt like she was going to spontaneously combust. Her body wound itself tighter and tighter under his touch until she felt she couldn't take anymore. Then she felt his hand as he reached up to her and slid two fingers deep within her. That was all it took.

"Ahhhh! Michael!!!!!" she screamed and he felt her body clamp down on his fingers as she jerked forward with the strength of her orgasm. He caught her, holding her close to him as his foot slid away and his fingers remained inside of her. She fell against him, letting him gather her wet and heaving form to his chest as she let the last waves of pleasure crash down on her before finally she could catch her breath again. After a moment of silence between them, he pulled his hand from her body and she sat back enough to look in his eyes.

"You okay?" he asked her as he brought his hand up to brush the wet strands of hair off of her face.

"I'm . . . yeah . . . yeah," she managed to say. "That was . . ."

"Amazing," Michael finished for her. "You were amazing."

"Me?" she laughed a little. "You did all the work," she smiled.

Michael chuckled in return. He pulled her close to him and said softly, "I love . . ." he caught himself before the words could escape and finished, "I love this. Being here."

Maria nodded against his chest. She knew that wasn't what he was going to say. She had felt his declaration before she heard it. She could still feel it, here in his arms, pressed against his body. He was going to say more; she knew that. He had wanted to say more. But, he couldn't. Or he wouldn't. She wasn't even sure which. She wasn't sure of anything as far as he was concerned.

"You're shivering," Michael said sometime later as they still sat together in the cooling water. They'd been so wrapped up in their activities there for a while that they hadn't noticed that the water had lost much of its warmth. He pulled her tighter to him and said, "You should get out of her and get dried off."

"No!" Maria protested quickly. "Not yet, I want to stay here for a while." Even if he withheld the words she longed for, he still could not hide the way he felt when he touched her. She could feel his emotions running through her as she pulled her body impossibly close to his and savored the feel of skin on skin.

"Maria, you'll get sick sitting in this cold water," he told her.

"It's a dream, Michael. It's not reality," she reminded him.

"Well, dreams can be more real than you'd think," he replied.

She leaned back again and looked at him. "If we leave, things change," she said softly. "As soon as we leave this room, nothing will be the same. You won't . . . want me like this," she finished. All her fears poured out of her in a way that she'd never have been able to do in her waking mind. But here, in this fantasy of her own creation, she could be honest with him. Even if he was right about her catching cold, she didn't want to leave his arms. She felt safe there . . . and loved. And that was all she wanted to feel at that moment.

"Come on, Maria. We'll get you dried off and into bed," he continued to insist.

"Michael . . . please," she begged as she clung to him.

He bent to kiss her head lightly. "I promise that I'm not going anywhere," he said softly. Those words were the only thing that finally got her out of the water.

Michael leaned over to get a large towel and began rubbing it vigorously over her body, trying to both dry her and warm her. She stood still and let him do what he wanted, enjoying the feel of someone taking care of her. It felt good to have his total attention focused on her for a change.

"There," Michael said as he finished drying her skin and wrapped the towel snuggly around her. "Feel better?" he asked as he held her hand while she stepped out of the tub.

"Yes, thank you," she replied.

He just smiled and reached for the other towel to dry himself off. It was then, as he was running the towel over his arms, that Maria noticed how aroused he was. She'd figured that that little scene in the bathtub had to be at least a little exciting for him, too, but . . .

"God, Michael," she said as she looked at him. His eyes met hers and he knew what she was referring to. He quickly covered himself.

"We should get you to bed," he said as he stepped from the tub to stand beside her.

"I should have . . . Michael, you did all that for me and I didn't . . ." she looked up at him, a look of contrition covering her pretty face.

"It's fine, Maria, really," he assured her.

She reached down then and took his hand in hers. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" he wanted to know as she opened the bathroom door.

"Right here," she told him as the door swung open to reveal the room beyond. Like the bathroom, this was a room that didn't exist in the DeLuca household, but that didn't seem to make any difference. It was a bedroom, and quite a large one at that. One wall held a huge, cherry wood dresser with an enormous mirror over it. A large, off-white couch lined another wall and a few high-backed chairs sat in near it. Then, in the center of the room, was the bed.

Michael had never seen a bed that big before. It had to be a king-sized, at least. But it looked bigger even. It was covered in an off-white down comforter that was pulled back to reveal rose-colored satin sheets. Along the headboard lay no less than half a dozen fluffy white pillows. She tugged his hand to pull him forward.

"Sit," Maria instructed. He did as she said. She pulled the towel from around his waist and he lifted his hips to let it slide away. Then, she raised her arms and let her own towel fall to the floor as well. "Lie back," she told him. Again, he didn't question her, he just did as she said.

She climbed up onto the bed beside him, carrying with her a bottle of lotion she'd gotten from somewhere. He watched her every move as she sat before him and squeezed a little of the lotion into her palm. She rubbed her hands together, then placed them on his legs as she spread the lotion over his skin.

Michael groaned even from this simple touch. Just lying there, naked, and knowing that she was naked and just inches away was making him ache with need for her. Her tiny hands moved deftly over his body, massaging in the lotion with smooth, even strokes as she worked his leg muscles beneath her grasp.

The closer she got to his erection, the harder Michael found it to sit still. He wanted her, right then, right there. He not only wanted her, he needed her. Needed her so desperately that he would have forgone oxygen . . . if only he could have Maria. She was all he needed to survive.

"Maria," he rasped as her hands gripped his upper thighs, so close to his need that he could almost feel her touching him. "Maria . . . please . . ." he said hoarsely. She looked into his eyes and was met with a pleading look that she could not refuse. Her hands snaked out to grasp him firmly, causing Michael to arch up towards her touch. "Ohhh," he moaned.

Her hands were still slick with lotion and she moved one up and down his length as she grasped him firmly with the other. He couldn't keep his hips still as the feel of her hands on his body took complete control of his every thought. All his thoughts were focused on her, all of the pleasure that coursed through his body came from her. She was everything, everything he wanted, everything he needed . . . everything he loved in the whole world. There was only Maria.

She was moving her hands over him faster and he could feel his control quickly beginning to wane. "No, stop . . . God, stop," he begged. He couldn't hold on for any longer. Five more seconds and this whole thing would be over. "I can't," he explained quickly. "It feels so good but . . . I want to be with you."

Maria smiled and lay down beside him, pressing her body against his side. He felt her nipples hard against him and her small but skillful hands rubbed over his chest and arms. She leaned up until their mouths were a breath apart. "Make love to me, Michael," she whispered. The feel of her breath against his lips and look he saw reflected in her eyes was all he needed. He pulled her close and crushed his lips to hers.

In one swift move, Michael turned over so that she was beneath him. His mouth continued to ravage hers as his hand slipped between their bodies to the warm wetness between her thighs. She moaned into his mouth at the feel of his fingers within her once again. "Now Michael . . . God, now," she pleaded.

Removing his hand from inside her, he quickly positioned himself at her entrance, then looked up to meet her eyes. She smiled softly at him and reached out a hand to cup his face. He turned his head slightly to kiss her palm, then slowly slide inside of her. They both released a collective groan as he sunk deep within her, sheathing himself inside her body.

"Michael," she breathed. Their eyes locked as he began to move within her. The feel of him moving within her was instantly addictive. She knew that she could never get enough of him and she never wanted to. She wanted to feel this way forever, like every moment with him would be this wonderful, this perfect. She clutched at his arms as he held her waist, pulling her up against him. With every stroke, he seemed to touch the perfect spot inside of her and it didn't take long for her to be on the edge of oblivion once again. "God . . . yes!" she cried as she felt her orgasm begin to overtake her. The feel of her body contracting around his was too much to take and Michael fell right behind her. He called her name as he filled her body with heat.

After a few moments that seemed like years, Maria felt him begin to move again. He pulled himself from within her body and she winced at the loss. Then, he crawled up the bed to lay at her side and pulled her close to him. She went willingly into his arms.

They were both silent for a long time and she wondered who would be the first to speak. She was just about to do so herself, when she hear his voice soft against her ear. "Thank you, Maria."

She nodded and kissed the hollow of his neck. She knew her response should have been to ask him thank you for what, but she already knew. She knew what he was trying to say. There were so many things that he needed to tell her, but he was too weak, too scared to give them voice. He was thanking her as much for knowing that as for what she had given him that night. And, in that instant, she could feel all the love he could never put into words.

She drifted off that night in his arms, thinking of how ironic it was to fall asleep in her own dream. But then, she didn't think of it as a dream. To her, at that moment, this was as real as it got.

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The End