author's note – for the February Raising Hell prompt challenge : contains the words – candy hearts, cliché and love sucks. (title courtesy of Coldplay - many thanks!)

disclaimer - not mine. Never will be. No monetary profit made from this fanfiction - only warm and fuzzies from reviews...

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A Rush of Blood to the Head

A man sits at the bar. His dark head is bent over his drink and his shoulders slump - with fatigue or resignation or despair; who can tell without talking to him, and the signals are clear - stay away, not tonight.

A younger man enters the smoke-filled dive, glances round in a seemingly casual manner - but zeroes in on the lone male at the bar and saunters over. Anyone watching might even describe it as like the stalk of a predator.

Dropping onto a stool with more grace then the movement normally involved, the young man grinned at the barkeep and gestured to the empty glass in the other man's hand.

"Get my friend another,"

"I'm not your friend," the man growled.

The younger man laughed. "Come on, you're practically part of the family now."

A wordless snarl was the only reply he got but he waved his hand for a beer, settling in for a drink of his own.

They were silent for a while and then the older one ventured a question -

"What are you doing here?"

The younger man smirked. "Had a job nearby, thought I'd grab a drink before heading back - you know how bad supplies are at the moment, luxuries like whiskey and beer are definitely not going to be on the list any time soon." He swallowed a mouthful. "I didn't know you were here, if that's what you're getting at. I wasn't looking for you." He grinned. It was positively wicked. "No-one sent me."

The older man stared at his drink. "Does she know I slipped out?"

Alec laughed. "You are so whipped! Why not say 'sneaked' and be done with it." he leaned back, tilting his stool onto two legs. "Is she gonna be mad at you? She's always mad at me - for the stupidest things. I really don't deserve half the grief she throws my way..." he grumbled.

The older man sighed, taking a drink, stalling. "I never know what she's thinking. She doesn't tell me anything, and if I ask directly she gives me this tired line about how different we are and that I wouldn't understand."

Alec pursed his lips, thoughtfully. "It's true, you know - you are both very different. But she should cut you a break. You're both struggling to work this out." he paused, "It's not like you had any choice."

The older man shook his head. "That doesn't make it better. It doesn't explain why I went back."

Alec used the pause of taking a drink to gauge his companion. "You know why." he said - calm but also firm. "None of us would have suggested it, but no-one was surprised."

The other man growled. Unperturbed, Alec chuckled.

"Like anyone is contending that you two were made for each other..."

His companion looked ill, Alec raised his hands in hasty protest.

"I don't mean literally. Although..." he cut himself off at the glare that scorched his way. "What I'm trying to say is it's not all candy hearts and romantic cliche but you two are so perfectly matched,"

"We piss each other off. A lot."

Alec laughed, draining his glass. "Some of the best relationships are built on fire..."

Ames White hid his face in his drink.

"Love sucks..."

Alec's head whipped round so fast to stare at the Familiar that he almost fell off his stool.

"Who said anything about love?!"