Title: Where Ever We Roam
Pairing: Birkhoff (&) Alex
Song: All This Time by Onerepbulic
Rating: Eh, it's pretty K, with the exception of a bad word at the end.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, don't own Zetrov. Though, one day, maybe.
"Birkhoff! Wait, Birkhoff! Stop!" Alex calls out to him, as she precariously makes her way down the entrance steps in 5 inch heels. When she finally reaches the bottom, where Birkhoff is standing, she's slightly out of breath and flushed.
They're in Russia, standing in front of the decadent Zetrov headquarters, which now belongs to Alex.
"Is everything okay?" He asks, when she's finished composing herself. He looks over her shoulder, to the massive white and chrome building. Surely she couldn't have screwed anything up this soon.
"Where are you going?" Alex asks, ignoring the question. Birkhoff raises an eyebrow and gestures over his shoulder, to where he knows Michael and Nikita are standing, loading their luggage into the SUV.
"Home. Or some place close to it." When Alex doesn't respond, he continues, "I don't know, Arizona or California or Australia or Paris," he shrugs.
"So, nowhere in particular, then?" She asks, avoiding eye contact.
Birkhoff shrugs again. "Where ever I roam," he says simply. "Why?" He's getting curious now. Alex makes a face, then scratches her head, looking away again.
"Alex," he says flatly. They-him, Michael and Nikita-have a plane to catch in less than a half hour.
"Stay here," she says quietly, finally looking him in the eyes. Springtime has finally hit Russia, the snow banks that were piled up along the streets only a week ago have melted, giving a new home to an array of colorful flowers and roses. The disgusting smell of nature is the only thing Birkhoff smells as another breeze flits through the air, dragging cherry blossom petals with it.
"What?"
"Stay here...with me." Alex breaks eye contact again, a small blush creeping onto her face.
"Stay here? In Russia?" He looks at her questioningly. She sighs, and starts playing with her hair. Birkhoff looks over his shoulder. Nikita and Mikey are finished loading the SUV. They stand leaning against leaning against the vehicle. Nikita winks at him then whispers something to Michael, who in turn smirks at him.
"Division is...dead, Oversight long since gone and Gogol's not even a threat anymore. Percy's dead, Amanda and Ari are in super max prisons. We don't have to run anymore. You don't have to...leave. So stay. Here. With me," she shrugs, as if what she's asking isn't significant.
For the first time in a while, Birkhoff takes a look at Alex, really looks at her. She's 24 now, making it six years since they've met. Her hair is cut short, only reaching down an inch or two below her shoulders and her baby blue eyes are as bright as ever. She's wearing a light blue button up that's tucked into a red stretch skirt and tall red pumps. Pieces of jewelry are scattered here and there and Birkhoff can make out the corner of a small tattoo on her left wrist. He knows if he looks up he'll see guys checking her out, looking at her with that disturbing predatory look he hates. So he stays focused on her and her only.
"What...exactly are you asking me?"
"I'm not going to say it again, Birkhoff," Alex says, sounding just the tiniest bit irritated. Birkhoff smiles; he's used to her like this.
"So, you're asking me to stay here, in a country full of strangers and cold hearted bastards that don't even speak English, instead of returning home to family and friends in a country that's Percy-free for the first time in half a century. Why?" He raises an eyebrow and steps closer.
Alex looks over his shoulder, at the other members of their team. Or rather, former team, seeing as now, there's no longer a need for Team Rogue. Six years it took to take down Division, six years to find safety.
"For me," she says simply, and Birkhoff looks away. This, he did not understand.
"You broke up with me," Birkhoff says slowly, enunciating each word. "Remember?"
"It wasn't...really a break up. We weren't together," Alex sighs.
"Exactly. You said it was just a fling, that it was going absolutely nowhere, said it was a complete waste of time."
"Almost. I said it was 'almost' a complete waste of time," she says quietly, looking at the ground.
"So, why are you standing here then? Shouldn't you be off with your pretty little soldier?" Not that Birkhoff would ever mention it, but Sean was a bit of a sore spot for him.
Alex exhales. "Sean is already back in the states. He's getting ready to leave for another tour...and, to answer your first question...'almost' isn't the same as 100% percent."
When Birkhoff doesn't say anything, Alex continues, "Just for a year or two, okay?" He stares at her, without making a noise.
"I just need time to get Zetrov straightened out, find someone to take over after I'm gone, figure out how to turn this media blitz around, find some new investors..." Alex trails off, giving a regretful sigh, thinking about all the future complications and responsibilities that will inevitably fall on her.
"That's a lot. And two years is a long, long time."
"I know...and I don't want to do this all alone," Alex says, looking back at the Zetrov building.
"But when all that's taken care of, when everything's squared away, then we can..." Alex trails off again, leaving the statement open for interpretation.
"Then we can what?"
"Leave. Run. Go somewhere. Anywhere."
"I could go anywhere right now," Birkhoff replies coolly, stepping closer and crossing his arms.
"Let me rephrase that. In two years, we can go anywhere. Anywhere in the world. Together."
"Together," Birkhoff echoes.
"That's right. Where ever we roam," Alex confirms, biting her lip. She looks up at him, with those gorgeous, pleading blue eyes. The offer's on the table, and he can either accept it, or walk away.
He sighs, and looks back over his shoulder. The two are still watching them, Michael still smirking and Nikita's got a smile on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat's.
He shakes his head, fighting a smile. For years, the two have been speculating about him and Alex. They were wrong, at first. But one night, almost two years ago at Michael and Nikita's wedding, Alex changed that.
He turns back around and focuses on Alex, who looks like she's a heartbeat away from having heart palpitations. Poor girl. She's great at taking risks, so long as it involves money, or weapons or a life. But emotions? That's something all new to her. And apparently frightening. He's not cold hearted, really. But a very small part of him, a part he's ashamed to admit exists, takes joy in this moment, the power he has and the pain she fears is coming.
Finally, he puts Alex out of her misery. He pulls her in for a kiss. It's one of those silver screen kisses; long and passionate, slow and blissful. It's the type of kiss he grew up watching on TV, only seen in movies. All throughout out his teenage years and college, during Division and being rogue, he never thought he'd get a kiss like this. He never thought he'd get that, or a happy ending.
But for once, the odds are in his favor.
All around them he can hear the response of the other civilians; Michael's chuckle, Nikita's cat calls and the dejected sighs from a group of guys (who Birkhoff knows for a fact work at Zetrov) who've been standing in earshot this entire time.
When they break for air, Birkhoff looks down at Alex, who looks happy and delirious. "You should go get your bags," she says tilting her head in the direction of the SUV.
"Nah, don't need to," he says, wrapping his arms around her waist. They both turn, Birkhoff to wave goodbye, and Alex to see what he's talking about. Nikita and Michael are already in the car, she's behind the wheel, adjusting the rear view mirror and Michael's riding shot gun, dialing a number on his iPhone. As they pull out of the parking space, the couple wave their goodbyes and yell "love you!" and "keep in touch!" before turning a corner and disappearing from sight.
Alex looks puzzled.
"I'm not leaving, Lex. And I never was." It was never even a thought of his to leave Russia, to leave behind Alex. No, he didn't need her to ask, or list reasons why. He didn't care where Sean was or what exactly she had to do to Zetrov back in order. He made his choice long before the option ever occurred to Alex.
It only takes a few seconds for Alex to catch on. "You... fucking...bastard!" She pulls away and smacks his arm. "You were always going to stay, weren't you?"
He chuckles and holds her arm down so she can't hit him again. "Yeah."
"Then why did you...why did you make me ask? Why didn't you just say so?" She demands, wrestling free from his grip.
"Because," he says simply, pulling her in for a hug. "I needed you to realize that 'almost' isn't the same as 100%."
She murmurs something he can't understand and hits him half-heartedly in his chest. He smiles, running his hands through her soft brown locks and says, more to himself than to her, "In fact, it's nowhere close to 100%."
*Whistles* Okay, that's done:D This was originally supposed to be less than a page (in a notebook, of course) but, as always, I got carried away. Whatever. Hope you enjoyed it.
Reviews are love, you guys:)