Disclaimer: Not mine!
Summary: Kyle and Michael and a conversation in the park.
Spoilers: Possible spoilers up to and including "A Roswell Christmas Carol."
I love Kyle and Michael. They are just TOO wonderful. My two favorite guys on Roswell. How could I NOT write a story revolving around them? LOL!
"I'm a girl watcher, I'm a girl watcher…
Watchin' girls go by, hey, my my.
I'm a girl watcher, I'm a girl watcher…
Here comes one now."
"Like hell. A five."
"Michael, you have no appreciation for the attributes of the fairer sex. A six."
They sat on a bench near the center of Regency Park, and the breeze fluffed at their hair. It might have been mid-January, but the air was surprisingly mild today, so that they didn't even need their jackets. Everyone in Roswell seemed to be out, making the most of the temporary warmth.
Another girl walked by-- Maggie Stewart, from economics class-- and Kyle whistled low under his breath.
"Check out the legs on her," he said to Michael as they watched her strut by. "What does she do to get those jeans on? Use a shoehorn?"
Michael nodded approvingly. "I was looking a little higher, man," he said. "Definitely an eight."
They sat in silence for a minute, watching the people go by. Mr. Geargard from the general store jogged past with his pet Shi Tzu, Sadie. Ms. Everett, their fourth grade teacher, meandered along the path, gazing dreamily up at the sky, which was that perfect shade of pristine blue that comes only on warm winter days.
"So," Kyle finally said, breaking the congenial silence, "Any advice?"
Michael sighed, crossed his arms and shrugged. "I can't tell you much, man," he said. "You should ask Max. He's better with this sentimental stuff."
Kyle let out a loud breath and slumped on the bench. "Yeah, I figured. I just thought-- yo, six, nine o'clock-- what with Tess and Maria having such similar personalities and all..."
"Six? Dude, she's a nine or I'm a frigging monkey. Well... I can't tell you what to do, but I can sure as hell tell you what NOT to do."
Kyle sat up hopefully. "ANYTHING. The only girlfriend experiences I've ever actually had have always ended badly. I mean, Vicki ran off with that baseball player from Roswell Central. Emma called me an insensitive prick with delusions of grandeur, then painted 'BASTARD' on my locker with lipstick." He paused, and looked at Michael. "Do you think I'm an insensitive prick?"
"Naw, man, not at all. You're all sensitive and stuff. Hey, check it out. Is she an eight or what?"
Kyle whistled low as he followed Michael's gaze and watched Becca Robinson walking on the other side of the park. "Like oil over water. Nice and smooth." He kept his eyes riveted to her for a few seconds more, then turned back to Michael. "Yeah, so she called me insensitive. And Liz, of course. Who admittedly ditched me for the alien king who saved her life and with whom she shares this whole soulmate, look-in-my-eyes, gosh-your-swell thing; but still. It's the principle, you know?"
"I hear ya."
"But Tess is DIFFERENT," Kyle continued, leaning back again. "I get her, sorta. And she gets me, kinda. So there's a lot of getting being done, but no getting it on. You get me?"
"So what do I do?"
"DO NOT GET HER GENERIC SHAMPOO!"
"WHOA!" Kyle almost fell off the bench at the ferocity in Michael's voice. The alien's face remained placid. "What the hell?" Kyle laid a hand over his heart. "Okay, I'll remember that! What else?"
Michael shrugged. "I dunno. Maria likes it when I get all...I dunno, cheesy and stuff. Damn, Molly Baker's slipped. She's a four now."
Kyle nodded sympathetically as they watched the girl go by. "Yeah. It's the diet thing. She looks like a sheet of paper. She needs to put a little more meat on those bones!"
"Great personality, though," Kyle observed.
"Anyway, what do you mean by 'cheesy?'" Kyle asked, turning towards Michael and concentrating hard on the alien's profile.
Michael glanced at him, then back to the park. "Like... She likes it when I say stuff to her. You know? Like when I tell her how much I like her hair. I did that the other day, cause it just looked really good, and DAMN. If she didn't almost jump my bones, I swear to God."
"Shit, I gotta remember that. Tess has great hair."
"Yeah, thing is, I don't think it works for every girl. I mean, Max is always telling Liz stuff, but she never tries to jump HIM. Least, not that I've ever heard of. You think he's keeping it a secret?"
"Could be, could be."
"And then there's Alex. He just about drops every compliment he can come up with at Izzy's feet, and she still keeps him as her friend. Poor guy. He tries."
Kyle nodded. "Poor sucker."
"Hey," Michael said, gesturing with his chin to a brunette sitting by the fountain in the center of the park, "if she's not a nine, then my name's Johnny Wiseacre."
Kyle nodded and whistled. "Extra sweet."
Michael shrugged. "Yeah, so I don't know what to tell you, Kyle, except to just act really sappy and be all mushy and stuff. Chicks eat that stuff up. Oh, and hair."
"Chicks eat hair?"
"No, you moron. Chicks dig good hair."
"Oh. How would you know?"
Michael glowered at him. "Shut up, Valenti."
Kyle grinned wickedly, and turned back to the scene before them.
"Eight," Michael said, nodding to a slim redhead who was waiting at the bus stop on the fringe of the park.
"Eight and a quarter."
"There you go, throwing in fractions again."
"Hey, Mr. Martian, just because I actually GO to math class..."
"Oh, shut up."
"What about her?"
"Used to be a seven, went up to a nine while she was dating Cooper, and now she's a three while she's on the rebound since he dumped her."
"Maybe I can get Emma to write 'Bastard' on HIS locker in lipstick."
Suddenly, there was a soft cough behind them. Both young men swivelled their heads around.
"Are we interrupting something?" Tess asked as she and Maria peered down at them, arms crossed, eyebrows cocked.
Kyle swallowed. "Uh, hi, Tess." He forced a shaky smile.
Michael managed a grin up at Maria. "Hey, baby."
She smiled down at him, far too sweetly. "Hello, Michael."
"We bumped into each other at the salon," Tess explained, "and we figured we'd walk home together." She glanced between the two young men. "I see you two met up, too. What fun." Her face belied that comment.
Kyle, casting about desperately for a distraction, spoke first. "I like your hair!"
It was like magic.
Tess' face seemed to transform in an instant, from slightly peeved to radiant. "Really?" she asked, fluffing her newly highlighted locks. "It's nothing much, really."
Kyle decided to run with it. "No, it looks great! Really...blonde...and stuff." He smiled helplessly up at her.
Tess laughed softly, and patted him on the head. "Okay, okay, Buddha boy," she said. "I'm not going to...what was it? Slag you with my death ray eyes? Yeah, I'm not going to do that to you, so don't worry about it."
Kyle sighed loudly, relieved.
Michael decided to try the same tactic with Maria. "Yeah, the hair looks great, Maria."
She cocked her head. "Oh, really?" she said. "What do you like about it?"
Kyle watched with pity as Michael struggled to figure out what might be different. "It's...lighter?"
Michael slumped on the bench, completely at a loss. "I give up. What did you do to it at the salon?"
Maria uncrossed her arms and held out her hands. "I got my nails done," she said. "Don't you like them?"
They were painted blood red.
Michael swallowed. "They're....I love them, Maria."
She smiled again, that overly sweet smile that meant the exact opposite of what it looked like. "Oh, so do I. They're really great. I like the way they feel." She batted her lashes at him. "Too bad YOU'RE not going to get a chance to feel them anytime soon." She turned to Tess. "Wanna get something to eat, Tess? I get an employee's discount at the Crashdown."
"Sure!" Tess chirped, then turned to Kyle and waved. "Bye, Kyle."
He waved back at her, grinning. "Later, Tess. See you at home."
Maria twiddled her fingers coyly at Michael. "See you around, Spaceboy." She didn't wait for his response, but turned on her heel and began to glide away, making sure to sway her hips seductively. Tess scampered after her. They leaned their heads together for a moment, and the two young men heard them giggle something to each other before they were out of earshot.
Kyle leaned back, breathing heavily. "Phew!" he exhaled. "That was a close one!"
Michael slumped deeper into the bench. "Goddammit," he muttered.
Kyle clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, pal. You'll think of something to make it up to her."
"You're just saying that because Tess was, like, two seconds away from jumping into your lap."
Kyle grinned. "Your point?"
"Oh, shut up."
Kyle turned his head to watch the two girls as they walked. They were a good distance away from them by now, but he still had a good view. "I'll tell you what, Michael," he said thoughtfully. "All these other girls are nice, but our two are better than nice."
Michael turned to watch them as well, and sighed. "Don't I know it," he said, watching Maria glide. "Perfect ten."
Suddenly, a sound caught their attention, and they glanced to the side. A little further up the park, two other young men-- Paul Somerset and Andy Wallis, from American history-- were sitting on another bench. They were watching Maria and Tess, their eyes glued to the two girls as they walked by.
And they were whistling.
Michael's eyes glazed with anger. "You want the big one, or should I take him?" he asked, flexing his fist.
Kyle shook his head. "Let's just pound them. I don't care who I get."
They stood up.
"No good, classless, chauvinistic bastards," Kyle muttered as he and Michael started towards the other two young men, who were oblivious to their approach. "Don't they know you're supposed to whistle QUIETLY these days?"