"Don't be ridiculous," Isabel replied, tearing open two packets of sugar and sprinkling them liberally onto her banana yoghurt. "He's too irrational. You know what'll happen if he finds out now ... he'll go all Michael on us. On you." Maria looked at her, pouting slightly. "No," Isabel continued, "It's better he doesn't know anything at this point. At least not until we find out why this is happening and how to fix it."

"That could take forever," Maria grumbled. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

Isabel ate a spoonful of yoghurt. "In the meantime, you take advantage of your new ... talents."

"Wait, you think I should go around healing wounds and transforming utensils, like some sort of TV evangelist-David Copperfield hybrid? I thought the idea was to keep everything quiet."

Isabel sighed. "Not those talents. The other one. Use it to your benefit while you have it."

"No way!" Maria exclaimed, attracting the attention of a few passers-by. "No way," she continued, lowering her voice. "That's, like, a gross invasion of privacy."

"Please." Isabel rolled her eyes. "I'm not suggesting you broadcast what you find out over the Internet, I'm merely saying that paying a couple of quick visits to Michael's mind might help you figure what's going on with your relationship, that's all."

"We don't exactly have a relationship," Maria replied flatly.

"Exactly my point."

Maria stopped poking at the cardboard container of noodles and looked up at Isabel, slightly taken aback. She studied the other girl a moment, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Why."

"Why don't you have a relationship?" Isabel wiped at her mouth with a napkin.

"No. Why are you so concerned about Michael and I not having a relationship? I thought you would have been thrilled."

It was Isabel's turn to study Maria. "I care about Michael, a lot. He and Max are all I've got, and I don't want to lose them." Maria looked at her Pad Thai dejectedly, the subtle message in the words not lost on her. After a moment, Isabel continued. "But I do want them to be happy. And you seem to ... well, he's just different, around you."

Maria looked up at Isabel gratefully. "He makes me happy, too ..." She smiled awkwardly but it quickly evaporated. "... when he's not making me miserable."

"Right," Isabel gave her a sympathetic look, in spite of herself. Though her natural jealousy kicked in at the thought of anyone getting too close to either of her brothers, she couldn't ignore the fact that Maria connected with Michael in a way that Isabel herself never quite could. And while she had limited tolerance for Maria's incessant babbling or questionable fashion sense, Isabel was infinitely indebted to her for the effect she had on Michael.

Isabel and Max had noted subtle changes in their friend since his involvement with Maria. Around her, he seemed to soften around the edges. He was less moody, less manic. Isabel had even caught him smiling at Maria at the Crashdown one night when he thought no one was looking. But even though Maria had made inroads into creating a Kinder, Gentler Michael, he was still Michael, and Maria was no saint, either -- Isabel had been a third party to their passionate arguments on a couple of occasions.

She didn't envy Maria for that; Isabel had engaged in her own fair share of bickering with Michael over the years, and each instance had been an exercise in frustration. But unlike her own experiences, Isabel noted that Maria had a seemingly endless amount of patience, and that Michael made an effort to chase after her when all was said and done to try and make things right again. Michael needed her, the way Max needed Liz -- perhaps even more so. Maria knew it, Isabel knew it, and deep down, Isabel figured Michael knew it, too. Which essentially was the whole problem.

"See, the thing with Michael is, he's stubborn."

Maria smirked in agreement. "No kidding."

"But even more than that," Isabel continued, "He's scared. Which explains this whole hot-and-cold act he's pulling with you. That's why I suggest you take matters into your own hands. "

Maria hesitated. "But that just seems so ..."

"God, you're as bad as he is," Isabel rolled her eyes. "Look, he's what you want, isn't he?"

It was a challenge of sorts, a test. The two girls locked eyes. Finally, Maria spoke very softly. "Yeah. More than ... more than I've ever wanted anything else in my life."

Isabel nodded curtly. "Then it's up to you to make him realize he wants you, too."

Maria sighed. "How. You said it yourself, he's stubborn, he's scared -- I'd have an easier time getting him to turn himself in to Valenti."

"I've often found that guys are much more susceptible to seeing things your way if they think it's really their way. The best way to get what you want is to plant an idea in their heads and make them think they thought of it first. Of course," Isabel smiled evilly, "You have a distinct advantage ... you can do it literally."

Maria stared at her, sudden realization dawning on her face, but a male voice cut into her thoughts before she could speak.

"Ladies," Alex grinned as he approached the table and sat between them. "And how are two of my favourite girls doing on this fine, fine day?"

"Hey Alex," Isabel smiled.

"So?" He began pulling out his lunch from a brown paper bag. "What's the discussion du jour?"

"Isabel was just telling me how to work a man's head to give him what he wants," Maria murmured, still engrossed in trying to process the implication of Isabel's words.

Alex's Cheshire Cat smile fell from his face, replaced with a blank stare. Completely flustered, he opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut and swallowed, trying quickly to compose himself. "C-c-come ... come again?" he stammered. "I mean--"

Isabel interrupted; he was simply too painful to watch. "His mind, Alex. I was explaining how to get inside a man's mind."

"Oh ... right," Alex's cheeks reddened furiously. "I-I-I ... I'm all ears. Please ... explain away."

Isabel turned back to Maria. "Each guy is different, so the most important thing is finding out what he likes," she began. "That's why that surveillance mission I mentioned is so important. You find out what he wants and then just give it to him."

Alex paused in mid-bite of his sandwich, his eyes flickering across the table to Isabel. His hands slowly sank down to the table, but his mouth remained gaping open.

"Of course, there are a few universal tricks which seem to work on most guys," Isabel continued. "Anything to do with your mouth is good. Sucking on a popsicle, licking a lollipop, twirling a piece of licorice around your tongue ..." She took another mouthful of yoghurt, letting the spoon slide provocatively between her lips.

"Really?" Maria made a face. "I mean, that just seems so obvious. Guys aren't seriously that perverted ... are they, Alex?"

"Huh?" Broken out of his stupor, Alex quickly shifted his attention from Isabel's mouth and onto her eyes. "Right, right ... no, wait! Not right! Wrong! I'm not--"

"No, no, of course you're not. I can see that." Maria looked at Isabel and sighed. "Point taken."

Isabel smiled, then continued. "You could always try wearing a top that's a couple of sizes too big for you."

"An oversized top?" Maria was puzzled. "I don't get it."

"You want your top larger than it should be so that there's lots of room around your throat and shoulders," Isabel explained. "You know, exposed skin. He can look, but he can't touch."

Alex's eyes grew wide. He took a large swig of his Orange Crush.

"Of course, if your bra strap is visible, that's a definite plus," Isabel continued, studying Alex out of the corner of her eyes. "Even better if it's black or lacy or something exotic. Give him a taste of what he could have."

Alex choked on his drink, the orange liquid dribbling out of the corner of one side of his mouth. "Heh, would you look at the time?" He sprang up, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "I, um ... I really gotta get to English -- we're having a surprise quiz today!"

"How do you know about it, if it's a surprise?" Maria asked, wrinkling her brow.

"That-that-that's the surprise! I know!" Alex frantically gathered up his lunch and began shoving it into his knapsack. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later." He left the table in a rush, leaving the two girls staring at the orange Crush bottle that remained on the table, nonplussed.

"Of course, sometimes, you don't even have to get inside their mind to know what they're thinking," Isabel mused.

Finally, Max looked up. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Michael replied in a surly tone. "Everything's just fine."

"Somehow I don't believe you." Max closed his textbook. "Is it Maria?"

"Ma-no! No. There is nothing going on with her, and even if there were, let me assure you, Maxwell, it wouldn't be anything I would overly concern myself with."

Max suppressed a smile. "Thanks for clearing that up."

Michael exhaled in frustration, throwing his pencil down on the sketch pad. "It's just ... I'm a little freaked out over not being able to ... you know." He stopped, his eyes darting around the crowded library, then finished in a hushed tone. "Perform."

Max's eyes widened. "Per-perform?"

"I tried three times yesterday, and I couldn't do it." Michael frowned.

Max blinked at his friend. "Were you, um ... were you alone?"

"No, I thought I'd do it in the middle of the Crashdown in front of an audience," Michael answered sarcastically. "What do you think?"

"No, I was just--I was wondering," Max replied, slightly embarrassed. "Because, you know, if you were doing it with another person there, that might make a difference. Did you ever have this problem when you were with Ma--" The look on Michael's face stopped him short. "With her?"

Michael thought it was an odd question to ask, but answered anyway. "Nooooo ... actually, things kind of worked better when she was around ... except for that one time on the way to Marathon when everything blew up in my face," Michael muttered, oblivious to the startled look on his friend's face. "See, that's my problem," he lamented. "Things either go totally out of control or they just don't work at all. I mean, I've always had difficulties with this kind of stuff, but--"

"Uh, too much information, Michael." Max shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Oh what, this has never happened to you before?" he demanded. "Not even once?"

"Not that I can remember," Max swallowed.

"Right, I forgot," Michael rolled his eyes. "You're the golden boy. You lay your hands on Liz and everything goes just perfectly." He exhaled in disgust. "Why is this happening to me?"

"Well, there could be a lot of different reasons," Max began.

"Such as?"

"I don't know ..." He wore a pained expression on his face. "Stress ... tiredness ... performance anxiety ..."

"What?"

"You know ... maybe you were putting yourself under too much pressure to do it, or trying too hard ..." Max flushed slightly as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Or maybe you just weren't ... in the mood."

"In the mood?" Michael frowned. "In the mood for what? I didn't realize I had to be in a certain mood."

"Well then, maybe that's the problem," Max suggested politely.

Michael's frown deepened. "So what am I supposed to do? Isabel's always telling me if I just concentrate more, I'll have more control over it--"

"Wait," Max was stunned. "You discussed this with Isabel?"

"Well, yeah," Michael looked at Max oddly. "I mean, she was there when it happened--"

"What?"

"Yeah," Michael ignored the look of horror on his friend's face as he continued to speak. "I was actually going to ask her to work on it with me, but she's been acting really weird ever since it happened, so I don't know anymore." He shrugged.

"That makes two of us," Max muttered under his breath, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Anyway, I figured maybe I could practice with you instead," Michael suggested. "Maybe you can figure out what I'm doing wrong."

"Wha-me? You want me to help you?"

"Well, who else would you suggest? Hank? Valenti?" Michael was beginning to get irritated with Max's apparent cluelessness, when a thought suddenly crossed his mind. "River Dog." He snapped his fingers. "He healed me before -- I bet he could fix this. I'm telling you, Max, that guy knows more than he's letting on." Michael's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And tonight, I'm gonna go to the Reservation and make him show me everything."

The mental image proved to be the proverbial straw that broke Max's back. "Michael, I really don't--I really don't think River Dog is the best person to go to for tips on how to, uh, boost your ..." he cleared his throat nervously, "... sex drive."

Michael did a double-take, his face full of bewilderment. "My sex ... What the hell does that have to do with me not being able to get a Coke stain off my shirt?" he scowled.

Max's face drained of the bright crimson shade it had turned. All of a sudden the world made sense again.

"Max!" Liz approached their table, Maria in tow. "Hey. I'm ready to go over those Bio notes, if you still want to?"

"Sure!" he jumped up, gathering his books quickly. "I, uh, yeah ... sure. Let's go." Grinning with relief, he turned to Michael. "Coke stain," Max said softly, chuckling.

Maria watched Max and Liz walk away from the table. Frowning, she turned to Michael. "What was that about?"

Michael shook his head. "I have no idea."

The library's usual silence seemed to be magnified a thousandfold as they stared at each other uncomfortably.

"So ..." Maria began. "What brings you to the library? You get lost on your way to the cafeteria or something?"

He glared at her. "Art assignment."

"Looking up the history of geodesic domes, are we?"

"No," Michael replied curtly. "It's on the human form. I needed to draw a person who wouldn't move, so I figured this was the place."

"You're going to draw someone reading?" Maria asked. "That isn't very exciting."

"You got a better idea, Picasso?"

Maria rolled her eyes. "Well if you'd asked, I might have been able to work something out with you, but--"

"Like I said, I needed to draw someone who would sit still and be quiet, so ..." Michael smirked at her.

She opened her mouth to tell him off, then decided against it, suddenly remembering she had a better way to deal with him. Showtime, she thought.

Maria stared at him intensely, channelling all her energy into trying to penetrate his mind. And then suddenly, without warning, she was in. It was the same cold, dark, lonely space it had been the first time, and she felt just as invasive by being there as she did before. Only this time, Michael wasn't kissing her senseless in a dark alcove. Instead, he seemed to be sketching her. Maria crept across the room to get a better look. She was terrified he would see her, but Michael appeared to be completely engrossed in his work. The Maria he sketched laid back on a chaise, and was very still, very quiet and very ... naked -- except for a strategically-placed layer of white gauze.

The image jolted Maria back to the outer world. "Oh, well ..." She fought to control her shock, then remembered Isabel's advice to use what she saw to her benefit. "Well ... that's probably a good thing." Maria laughed nervously, praying it sounded natural to his ears. "I mean, you'd probably go all Titanic on me and want to turn it into some sort of porno thing."

Michael stared at her, startled. "Don't flatter yourself," he muttered, feeling his face burn with embarrassment.

DeLuca one, Guerin nothing, Maria smiled inwardly.

"Don't you have somewhere to be right now?" Michael demanded, in an effort to change the subject.

"Not particularly," she replied. "Actually, I'm done for the day. I was about to hit the mall."

"Well, that figures," he replied sourly. "Leave it to a female to fritter away the afternoon wasting money on trivialities."

Maria made a face. "Shopping is hardly a triviality."

"Yeah, it's right up there with crime, poverty and unemployment in terms of national importance."

"This isn't some random spending spree, Michael," Maria answered in her own defense. "I'm not, like, meandering from store to store, trying on things aimlessly. There's a method to my madness."

"As opposed to all the other times," Michael muttered.

He was doing it again, being obnoxious to her for no good reason. A note of indignation crept into her voice. "Actually, there are some very specific things that I need to buy today."

"Really," he replied dryly. Michael almost found it amusing how he could always seem to get Maria so riled up over such minor things without any real effort on his part, and without any realization on hers. The truth was, he liked baiting her because he liked arguing with her. He thought it was kind of cute the way she got all feisty and outraged and passionate about things. He missed the way she got all feisty and outraged and passionate about things. And he definitely missed the way they made up after they fought.

"Really." Maria sounded smug, but in actuality, she was lying. She had planned to kill a few hours at the mall trying to forget about the whole Invasion of the Body Snatchers situation she seemed to have gotten herself into. The fact that he knew her so well bothered her. "I need to buy ..." Her brain fumbled helplessly, grasping for something that sounded semi-legitimate. Suddenly, she had an inspiration. "... Lingerie."

"Lingerie," Michael repeated.

"Yes," Maria smiled, warming up to the idea. "Lingerie. You know, undergarments? Panties, bras, camisoles ..."

Michael gulped audiably. Maria stared at him pointedly, focussing all her energy on his mind. It took less effort to get inside this time, and the results were entirely predictable. Within the confines of Michael's head, Maria saw a vision of herself dressed in a white lace bra, panties and garter belt with stockings.

Interesting, she thought, then said coolly, "I was thinking about something simple, that would match a lot of different outfits ... something white, maybe ... lacy? You know, just the basic bra, panties, garter belt thing ..."

The look on Michael's face more than made up for the quick stab of guilt Maria felt. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then opened it again and blinked rapidly.

"I ... uh, I gotta go. See ya." Michael snatched his sketch pad and books up off the table in a rush, then bolted out of the library without as much as a backward glance.

Maria grinned to herself. Not bad. Not bad indeed.