A/N: "Neither of them really meant for this to happen" And neither did the author. I've been working on a (mostly) canon-compliant post-S4 fic for the last two months, and I was hoping to finish it or at least make serious progress this weekend, but apparently my subconscious had other ideas. I've written half a novel for this fandom in the last four months. Imagine if I had this kind of motivation for actually useful tasks in my life? I might have made some progress with that original story I keep swearing I'm going to start, or heck, maybe would actually have my taxes done!

Kiera

It occurs to Kiera rather suddenly that she has no idea what Alec has been explaining to her for the last several minutes. He's standing in the doorway of the room that she's still struggling to think of as hers – so many things have happened in the last few months, the last few years, really, and she's never had an especially strong tie to any physical place as home, but the closest she's come in a long time was living in the apartment she grew up in, and even though that's probably a relatively small change compared to everything else lately, it's still left her with a weird sense of loss – and there she goes again, drifting off instead of listening to what Alec is saying.

Instead of processing his words, she finds herself mesmerized by the motions of his lips as he speaks them. It's a desire she's forbidden herself, but at this point, what the hell does it even matter? Her life has been a series of uncovering one deep-seated denial after another recently, and it's not like she hasn't gone down this path already with someone else, so why even try to hide this one from herself?

He's attracted to her, she knows that much, or at least, he was once. The moment has probably passed for him, but they're both hurting right now; maybe he'd be willing, just this once, to let his guard down with her. Just a little bit. It doesn't have to mean anything. It can't mean anything. But if she lets this go without doing anything about it before she leaves, she's afraid the ghost of this moment will haunt her for years to come.

"Kiera? Are you okay?" He's noticed her distraction; he's worried about her. This much is not new. Alec always worries about her. It's both aggravating and sweet.

She hesitates, and then reaches out to brush his arm with her fingertips. "I'm going to do something," she whispers. "And you need to tell me when to stop, okay?"

His breath catches, but he says nothing as she lightly touches his face. Still nothing, as her fingers tease through his curls – those curls, she's been dying to touch them – and her body angles closer. Still nothing, as she touches her lips to his. Touch, touch, touch. She's letting herself have so much more than she should.

Then he's kissing her back, so much more fiercely than she expected, and he doesn't have to say anything at all as they tangle together and ignite. Words, now, would only get in the way. There's a kind of honesty that bodies speak that words can only betray, and it's an honesty that Kiera has lived her life fearing, but she's letting herself taste it now, and oh, it is good.

Alec

Morning comes earlier than he wants it to. She stirs first; the sound of sheets rustling floats through the heavy fog in his mind, and with the dawning realization of where he is, he's considerably more amenable than usual to the idea of waking up. He rolls over and squints at her, mumbles, "I thought I was awake, but you're still here."

"What?"

"Dreaming. But in reality. Maybe."

She laughs. "You're a sap."

He yawns. "Proudly."

With the gathering light, full consciousness starts to creep in. With it comes a sense of dreadful finality. He lets himself pretend a little longer, but eventually it bursts out of him. "This doesn't change anything, does it?"

She doesn't meet his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You're still leaving. Aren't you?"

"Why does it have to mean anything? Haven't you ever had a one night stand before?"

"Have you?"

She balks. "It's been a while since I was young enough to – and then Greg…"

Now, there's a subject Alec doesn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole. He really doesn't want to consider the possibility that he just participated in an affair with a married woman. Whatever her thing with Brad was, it was a clear sign that Kiera considers her relationship with Greg over in one way or another; Alec suspects she was headed toward that path even before she arrived here. Whether she considers herself more of a widow or a divorcée, he's not sure. Even now, when she's talking about going back, it's Sam she longs for. Greg has never entered the conversation. So Alec shouldn't feel guilty. Right?

Kiera

Feeling awkward, Kiera turns the conversation back around on him.

"What about you? You're still – well, before Emily – did you…?"

Now it's Alec's turn to recoil. "I don't know, I never – not that I'd rule out the possibility; the opportunity just never arose, and then…"

He looks – and sounds – sort of strangled. She takes pity on him and fills in the gaps. "And then Emily."

His Adam's apple bobs in his throat. "We're not that kind of people, Kiera. We're not the one night stand type."

"No," she agrees, "we're not. But that brings up another point to why we can't do this: you're still in love with Emily."

He says nothing, but his face falls. She empathizes more with his guilt than she'd care to admit.

"There are so many reasons this won't work, Alec. You're still in love with your girlfriend—"

"Ex," he amends quietly.

"—and I've got somewhere to be. I have to go, Alec, don't you see?" She knows her voice sounds desperate now, pleading with him to see it from her perspective; she can't let him think she doesn't care, but at the same time she can't let him know how hard this is for her, how much she wants to stay. She can't think of Alec now; she has to keep her mind on Sam, or she will break. Funny how that's switched now, isn't it? Alec used to be the one who kept her grounded while her soul was screaming for her baby, sixty years too far to touch. Now that Sam is finally within her reach again, she's pulling away from her anchor to this time. She can see how much she's hurting him, but she has to. She has to.

Alec

He feels like he's being crushed under the weight of all the words he almost said. Wanted to say, even, but couldn't. It's terrifying, how close he came to finally uttering the truth he's kept submerged for all this time: It's you. It's always been you. From the moment you arrived, I wanted you. And now that I have you, I don't know how I'm supposed to give you back.

Kiera was half right, of course. He does still love Emily. The wound of her leaving is still fresh, and it's painful. But that's not what's hurting him now.

Admitting it now, to himself, after trying to force it so far down as to be an untruth for the last two years, it sounds like Emily was some kind of stand-in for the woman he really wanted, and that's not accurate at all. True, he took her up on that first date in the hopes of being distracted from his futile crush, but his affection for Emily rapidly grew beyond a mere replacement, and it was based on Emily herself, wholly and totally. He really did care about her, and losing her was a massive blow that he's not likely to recover from completely anytime soon.

But Kiera has occupied his mind from the moment she tumbled, rather literally, into his world. From the start, he found her intriguing and mysterious and a little intimidating and beautiful and odd and alluring and extraordinary. His preoccupation with her hasn't let up in the slightest since. It's not like he made his attraction to her a secret, at least not in the beginning, but the more layers he uncovered – with regards to Kiera herself as well as the outlandish situation they found themselves in – the more convinced he became that whatever it was he wanted to happen between them was impossible, and he's been lying to himself ever since, trying to make himself believe that what he feels for Kiera is no different than what he would feel for any other friend.

A friend who has turned his life into something out of science fiction, sure, and given him an opportunity to rewrite history, and introduced himself to the best and worst possibilities of his future, but that doesn't have to make her something unique in his life, does it? The fact that he's equal parts infuriated and fascinated by her doesn't have to mean infatuation, right?

And then the scales were dramatically weighted in favor of infuriated for a while, and he thought he'd finally gotten over this one-time crush for good. Only then they both had to go through some personal development and blah blah blah, and he'd gotten really good at ignoring his feelings by then, and besides, he had Emily. And he really was happy with Emily. Their relationship had its thorny bits, as any does, but they were making it work. And things were good.

But then Emily left. And Kiera confessed, in her own way, that she felt the same as he did, only maybe not so intensely, and she had no idea about the maelstrom of leftover teenage angst bubbling in his brain. And things happened, and once again, they meant more to him than they did to her. For Alec, this was the start of something he'd wanted so much and for so long that at the thought of it he could scarcely breathe. For Kiera, this was… what, exactly? A last hurrah before her departure, perhaps. Bang one out before going back, at least sort of, to the life she knew. Like a racy bachelor party to sow one's last remaining wild oats before a lifetime of monogamy.

Alec has never understood the appeal to bachelor parties.

Kiera

This will ruin him, she realizes. She never meant to hurt him. It meant more to him than she thought it would; of course it did: Alec is a wholehearted creature. He can't half-ass anything, it's not in him. It was a selfish choice, dragging him further into her life this way, an impulse decision made in a moment of weakness… and yet, she can't quite bring herself to regret it.

She feels guilty for causing him more pain, yes. For making their eventual parting that much harder. But she doesn't feel bad for giving in to temptation. It was too damn fun.

Besides, isn't she due for a little reckless selfishness? From the time she got here, she's been making the tough decisions, looking out for everyone else, trying to save the world. And yeah, she's made some bad calls. Some really bad calls, actually. But mostly, she's done a decent job. Hasn't she?

And Sam is waiting for her. Maybe. There's no guarantee, of course, but if there's the slightest chance that she can return to him, she has to take it. And if she can take down Kellogg in the process, all the better.

She has to keep moving ruthlessly forward. This indiscretion, or whatever, it doesn't change anything. It can't. She has to get back to her son. This… whatever it was, with Alec, it was just a distraction. An interruption in the flow of forward motion. A fleeting instant of acquiescing to something she dares not name.

She hates that she's back to lying to herself. But if she does it well enough, she won't even realize, consciously, anyway, that she's pretending at all. And, after all this time, Kiera Cameron is an expert at lying to herself. Sometimes, she thinks it's all she has left.