DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dark Angel.
Summary: Maybe weddings should be held in secret, that way when it falls apart you haven't spent a whole lot of money on what just turned out to be a big public embarrassment. M/A
Secrets
"Look, Mole," Alec said firmly, "I told you I can't do it tonight. If it's that urgent get Max or someone else, otherwise, leave it until tomorrow."
"What the hell is more important than training? You and Max have both said educating the kids is now our top priority and you and Max have both blown me off for tonight! Nice to know X5s keep their word," he growled around his cigar.
"God damn it! I can't take one night off? It isn't like we're in any immediate danger and I don't think your little brats will miss much if I put them through their paces tomorrow morning instead of this very instant," Alec shouted. Mole backed off immediately. It really wasn't a big deal, but Alec was storming away as though the world was ending.
Mole would blame stress, but he honestly didn't know how Alec could be under the sort of pressure could cause an X5 to crack. Everything was going well in Terminal City so it had to be personal. He pulled out his cell phone to call Max, but he hesitated. She had been very clear about not being interrupted tonight: she was doing a favor for Logan.
Alec felt the tension in his shoulders drain away the moment he saw the thousands of candles covering every available surface in his terminal city apartment.
"Welcome home," Max said softly. She turned away from the stove to smile at him, a slow smile that made warmth curl through his entire body.
"Lots of candles," Alec observed, sauntering toward the kitchen, but taking his time to note just how well Max had cleaned up.
"I was going to go with a hundred and eighty, but four thousand three hundred and sixteen just seemed… special."
"Special?" he purred, reaching her for a kiss, "Is today something special?" Max pulled away and slapped him playfully with a wooden spoon.
"I'm going to burn the rice."
"You always burn the rice; I've learned to live with it."
"I know, but I want tonight to be—"
"—special?" Alec loved cutting Max off. Her eyes flashed and she growled low in her throat. The fact that she was perfectly aware that she was being teased only served to make her madder.
"You can have a frozen pizza," she snapped.
"Fantastic!" Alec moved around the small woman to open the freezer. "And seriously, Max, I can't stall anymore: what's up with all the candles?"
The line of her shoulders grew taut. Alec suddenly suspected that he'd gone a little too far. Her head snapped around to look at him and she really was mad at him. He could tell because she set down the spoon in a perfectly controlled manner, her eyes never leaving his.
"I don't know, Alec, you tell me. Is today something special?"
Alec grinned at her. He loved her take charge tone of voice. He knew that he was probably the only person in the world insane enough to classify it as sultry, but he was also fairly sure that no one else in the world had ever heard her use it while they were handcuffed and naked in a steam tunnel.
"No," Alec said evenly, "it isn't. And of course it is, just like every other day that I get to spend with my beautiful wife. A candle for each hour we've been married is sweet, though," he added quickly, putting his arms around the little woman to lessen the chances of her taking a shot. "I got you a present, too."
"You know, pretending to forget our six month anniversary is low, even for you," Max grunted, relaxing in his hold.
"You're going to burn the rice," Alec answered, purring against her ear.
She pulled away from him, shooting an evil glare for no particular reason. "My present better be spectacular," she muttered.
"If it is, can I tell Mole the real reason I couldn't play tonight?" he teased her lightly. She looked up at him seriously. Alec cursed himself for bringing it up. He never brought it up and he was going to on their anniversary? Not only that, but he'd ecstatically agreed to this situation. He sure as hell wasn't going to complain. "Hey," he grinned, "Joking, Maxie. You really need to lighten up!"
She turned back to the stove and began piling food on the two plates. Alec was secure enough in their relationship to admit that dating Logan all those years had definitely given his wife an eye for presentation. Everything looked delectable.
"You've been on edge lately," she observed, not looking up from her task. Alec wasn't surprised that she'd noticed.
"We haven't been alone together for a couple of days," he shrugged. "A little time with my gorgeous wife and all will be well with the world." He took both plates and set them on his little kitchen table that had been dressed up in a fancy table cloth that he did not recognize for the occasion.
Alec had never been particularly fond of dates—the sitting and talking bits that came before the rabid sex—but for whatever reason he liked doing this with Max. He liked to just sit alone with her and talk while she was wearing the little gold ring that she never wore in public and he was free to do the same. Here, at home with his wife, they were both free to talk about anything and they exercised that liberty—sometimes to the brink of homicide. Luckily, Max tended to forget the things that led up to the rabid sex until it was too late for a grudge.
Only this time Max seemed unwilling to let his slip slide and he didn't feel like throwing their dinner on the floor just yet. "If you've got something you want to say, Alec, just say it."
He tasted the garlic mushroom chicken. Max must have spent hours on it because it was absolutely perfect. "This might be the best dinner you've cooked yet, Maxie," he observed. About a month ago she'd decided to add cooking skills to her considerable repertoire and Alec thoroughly enjoyed her experimenting, adding his own constructive criticisms as she went.
"Alec?" she asked hesitantly. He looked up at her. She was beautiful. She was his. And he was sincerely grateful to her for that. Not to mention everything else she had done for him and the rest of Seattle: she deserved to get exactly what she wanted for once.
"I know Maxie," he murmured, "And you know that I know. I really am just bummed that we've both been so busy lately." As much training as she had, he had more. She believed him.
"So when do I get my present?" she purred, changing the subject.
"Patience is a virtue," he quipped. He made sure that his attention was quite obviously on his food and tried to hide a smirk.
"Yes," she agreed evenly, "and it is one that your wife does not happen to possess."
Alec put the last piece of his chicken into his mouth chewing slowly—taking his sweet time. She groaned. "You aren't even going to say anything, are you?"
"Common Social Customs 103," he replied cheerfully: "don't talk with your mouth full."
Max feigned indifference and attended to her own food with a light shrug. "I think I skipped that class."
"I don't think anyone will dispute that," her husband grunted. He received a glancing blow from the salt shaker across his forehead. "See," he concluded, "Social Customs dictate that you should have hit me with the butter dish. Spilling salt is bad luck."
Max ignored the irritating man and made a show of chewing. He smirked and did the same. About a month into their marriage Alec discovered that if they were playing the patience game, he would win. They ate in a silence that quickly became comfortable—another thing he had quickly realized. Alec honestly didn't need to entertain Max by filling the silence and he never got bored just looking at her—which he was allowed to do in the privacy of their apartment.
Alec tried to quash the thought before it even happened, but thinking about their apartment inevitably lead to thinking about her apartment. He smiled softly at Max so that she wouldn't guess at the black mood that had been springing up around that thought for the last three or four weeks. Whenever Dix, Gem or even Joshua mentioned Max's Apartment as a location separate from Alec's he became irrationally angry. At least he knew that it was irrational—no one knew that he lived with Max because Max slept so rarely and maintained the illusion of her own place so carefully—and he had yet to really snap on anyone. Anyone besides for Mole an hour ago, he reminded himself.
Max seemed to sense the shift in his mood. "Alec?" she asked gently for the second time that night. Alec grinned in reply.
"Okay I'm done eating," he said softly, "I'll get your present." If anything, that made Max more suspicious, but she gave a delighted squeal and pretended that she had, in fact, been pestering after a gift.
A big gold wrapped present had somehow avoided detection underneath the sofa. Max grinned at him, it was obviously a piece of art. Max knew he'd gotten something for the apartment—it was exactly the sort of thing he would do. Jewelry, flowers, even a motorcycle part would necessitate a lie: something that became less comfortable the longer the pair stayed married (not that Alec knew that!). In getting her art for their apartment, he was taking the explanations on himself, not even knowing just how much that meant to her.
Then again there could simply have been a sale on Monet posters. At least the frame was a nice heavy oak that went well with the furniture. Max looked pointedly at her husband, not pretending to be pleased by the unimaginative gift.
"Okay, so my present is a little lame, but you'll like Joshua's better," he promised. He pulled the frame out of her hands and popped it open. Behind the poster was an original oil painting. Max smiled at her husband.
"This is awesome." Max was wearing her wedding dress in the painting and her husband's arms were wrapped securely around her, matching gold bands visible on interlocking fingers. Behind the couple blurred into an indistinct rainbow backdrop were smiling faces from Terminal City: the artist, Mole, Luke, Dix, even Logan and Original Cindy.
"Yeah," Alec agreed wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Everyone looks so happy."
"A happy little fairy tale," Max said smiling up at her husband. She pressed her lips lightly against his.
"Am I forgiven for my sucky gift?" Alec asked with cockily quirked lips.
"You're forgiven, but only because it's kissing time now."
"How come you always get to be the one to decide when it's kissing time?"
"Because you're still talking like an idiot."
Alec ducked his head apologetically. "I really can't tell you, Maxie," he whined. "I promised Luke that I wouldn't tell anyone."
"This isn't funny, Alec," she snapped, "If there is a security issue your little boys code doesn't apply."
"If there is a security issue—and I'm not admitting to one on any front—then I'll handle it. I promise. Besides, Luke would be really embarrassed if you knew; he only managed to come to me because I'm a guy."
"So—what? You promised to always be straight with me."
"This isn't my secret to tell!" Alec looked self consciously at the office door; that had been a little loud.
"Fine, you want to keep your little secret, you do that. I have a secret, too."
"Max, don't be like that."
"I'll be however the fuck I want to be," Max broke off coldly. "Get out of my office."
"Come on, Maxie!"
"Don't wait up for me. If I get tired, I can always sleep in my apartment."
Alec wondered if his wife knew how very hard it was for him to avoid doubling over in pain at that remark. She hadn't slept away from him since their wedding. "You do that," he answered, finally matching her icy tone. He marched out of her office without slamming the door, praying that she would call him back to make up. She didn't and he had a little too much pride to betray a friend so his wife would be nicer to him.
Mole followed Alec as the man practically blurred through the hospital hallways. Doc was already with Max by a stroke of luck, but Mole was just as worried as the X5 he chased after.
Max had been attacked.
It seemed impossible: like a story or a bad joke from a party. Max was invincible, wasn't she? She was the hard-assed bitch who'd pulled transgenics and ordinaries together by the balls and beat them into peaceful coexistence. Max couldn't be hospitalized, not by some stupid cross burning hate group. Max wasn't vulnerable to that sort of attack just walking down the street. Max couldn't be killed.
Alec banged the door open earning himself a dirty look from every medical professional already in the room. At least Doc's was tempered by mild understanding. Max was lying on the stark hospital bed; her face was ashen from blood-loss and she was bandaged in too many places.
"Report!" the soldier in Alec snapped, desperately needing to know just what was wrong with his wife.
"She hasn't woken up, yet, and the doctors here won't let me see her medical file, but the reassurances they keep giving me seem genuine enough. It's probably safe enough to get her back to TC if that's what needs to be done." Doc's back was rigid, but she refrained from saluting. Mole noticed a change in his own posture—when something went wrong it seemed they all fell back to their training. He wondered if they would ever be free of it.
"I am sorry," the graying doctor interjected, "but this many people will definitely disturb my patient. Why don't we move this conversation to the hallway?"
Alec nodded imperceptibly. "Mole," he ordered, "Secure the room, guard Max."
"Yes," the transhuman agreed, swallowing the sir that almost asserted itself.
After casing the room and checking the windows, Mole stood sentry- stiff in a corner observing the nervous nurse tending his commanding officer. To best prepare for any scenario—and because he was a curious bastard—Mole used his superhuman hearing to eavesdrop on the hallway conversation.
"You are not a licensed medical professional," the doctor was arguing, "It would be illegal for me to even let you see her medical file, let alone release her to your custody."
"Do you understand that keeping her here is a direct threat to her safety?" Alec asked in a dangerously low tone.
"I understand your concerns for your friend, but they really aren't necessary. It is my understanding that Miss Guevara was attacked by a street gang. I assure you that hospital security will keep any of that sort well away from her."
"If tensions between ordinaries and transgenics are on the rise again, it might be hospital security that I need to worry about," Alec growled.
"Now that's uncalled for," the doctor protested.
"Look, Dr. Handle, we all have Max's best interests at heart. You've already admitted that you have never treated an X5 before. I assure you that I'm fully qualified—and you know Alec wouldn't let me take her case if I wasn't," Doc said, her voice sounding infinitely reasonable.
"I'm sorry, but there is no way that I can release a patient in Miss Guevara's condition, not without signed authorization from her next of kin."
"She's a transgenic! She doesn't have a next of kin," Doc angrily informed Handle. "This is just another example of the way Ordinary law discriminates against transgenics."
"Doc," Alec barked, "Calm down. I'll sign whatever you need me to."
"I'm sorry," Dr. Handle said, and he really did sound sorry, "I am sure that you are very good friends with Miss Guevara, but legally you have no connection to her."
"I'm her husband," Alec growled. Mole grinned. X's sure had a way of thinking on their feet.
Dr Handle's hesitation was understandable. "For legal purposes, I have to ask you to produce your marriage license and certificate. The patient wasn't wearing a wedding band when she was admitted and from what we have been told of her history…"
Mole could hear the light snap of an opening cell phone. "Yeah, Josh," Alec grunted. "You're coming with the ambulance, right. Need a favor. Swing by my apartment and get the black binder from Max's Bookshelf. It'll be right next to her Shakespeare collection. Great, hurry."
Mole didn't hear anything for a few seconds, then Alec spoke again. "You'll get your papers in a few minutes. You want to see her matching ring?" The door opened and Mole nodded to Alec who ignored him and made a b-line for Max's belongings. Somewhere amid her clothes he found what he wanted. His eyes lifted almost religiously to her prone form and he took her left hand gently, sliding a gold ring onto her third finger. Suddenly, the soldier's face crumpled and Alec's eyes filled with tears.
"Tell me my wife will be okay, Doctor," he begged, not taking his eyes from the pale woman.
Mole started forward slightly. The rings were too convenient. If Joshua had special orders to forge marriage documents, why didn't anyone else? "Shit on a stick, you're really married, aren't you?" he whispered, hoping the doctor wouldn't hear him and knowing that Alec would.
"I've told you," Dr. Handle said kindly, "We are doing everything we can for our patient. She lost a lot of blood, but most of her wounds are superficial. I expect her to make a full recovery, presuming that adequate medical care is provided—as much as I hate to differ with your friend, moving your wife would be dangerous to her health."
"Again," Doc said, forcing the pretentious note out of her own voice, "you've never worked with X5s. Unless you're omitting something about her injuries, she should be safe enough to move."
"You're right, I've never worked with a transgenic before," Dr Handle said, "but I know that when this woman was brought in, her injuries were so bad that she nearly lost the baby. I have worked with plenty of pregnant women and I know that moving a patient immediately after a near-miscarriage is never a good idea: I don't care what sort of DNA you have."
Alec's eyes snapped up to the doctor's face. "Pregnant?" he whispered.
Dr Handle looked slightly suspicious. "She's nearly two months along, I would assume she knew by now."
The trembling tears threatened to slip down Alec's smooth cheeks at any moment. "She said she had a secret," he croaked turning back to his wife. "She was mad that I wouldn't tell on Luke. Maybe she didn't know how I'd take it: we never talked about kids."
"Shit," Mole croaked, "Don't let Luke know that."
"You said you saved her, though? My daughter—my baby—is okay now, right? You said near-miscarriage."
"Yes," the doctor agreed softly, seemingly more convinced than ever that Alec was telling the truth. He put a gentle hand on the transgenic's tense shoulder. "They will both be fine, but again, everything I know about medicine advises strongly against moving her."
"Alec," Mole argued, "there's no way we can secure this place. If someone who knows what they're doing figures out that she's here…"
"I know," Alec grunted. "Doc?"
"If Max is pregnant with your child, then it is an X5—strong like its mommy—and we should be able to move her in the ambulance as long as we take precautions."
"You're sure?" Alec demanded, turning to face Doc for the first time as a distraught husband. "If she—if Max loses the baby—I don't want you to say what you think I need to hear. The truth: what are the risks?"
"Alec, I promise, barring unforeseen attack on the ambulance that would necessitate insane driving and jostling the patient, moving Max back to Terminal City will be safe enough for her and her child. There is nothing that this hospital can do for her that I can't."
"That's a promise, Doc," Alec said, his eyes sliding back to Max. "Don't break it."
Doc swallowed, understanding the threat. Luckily, before things could get more awkward, Joshua entered the room. He had a worried cast over his face, but he seemed calm. He passed the binder to Alec wordlessly. Alec flipped it open and paged through the dull documents and supply lists. He popped the three rings and pulled out one of the see through paper protectors. Amid a series of munitions reports he found two pieces of paper and passed them to Dr Handle.
He looked over them, nodding.
"As you can see," Alec grunted, "Joshua was one of our witnesses. I can get Logan Cale, the other, on the phone in a matter of minutes. Judge Mendoza might be a little more difficult, but if it's necessary I'm sure I can convince his secretary to give me his home number."
"That won't be necessary," Dr Handle said sheepishly. "I'll prep her release papers, if you're sure that's what you want to do."
"I'm sure."
Max opened her eyes groggily. She was in the infirmary in Terminal City. That was good at least. The slightly dizzy way everything was blurred was less good. Vague memories of being attacked—and kicking ass in turn—filled her head.
"There were too many of them," she told her husband who was suddenly in view.
"I know, baby," he crooned. She could feel his warm hand in hers and didn't bother wondering how long it had been there.
She tried to sit up suddenly, but his hands quickly pressed her shoulders back onto the bed. "You don't understand," Max groaned, "Doc needs to know."
"Baby's going to be alright, Maxie," Alec told her softly. "The ordinary hospital diagnosed you—guess we got lucky there. You're both going to be alright."
"Should have told you," she mumbled.
"Probably," he agreed jovially.
"You're a jerk. Get me some water."
"Your wish is my command," he grinned. He hopped up to pour her a glass of water from the sink.
"Why are you more annoying when you're being good?" she coughed lightly.
"Maybe because you hate being babied my bad-ass bambino?" he cheerfully popped a bent straw into her glass and held it close to her mouth. She scowled at him and snatched it away.
Max drank slowly, knowing that her urge to gulp down the entire glass in a single swallow would only make her sick. "Go away."
"Aw Maxie, you don't mean that," he groaned.
"No," she agreed, feeling well enough to sit up. "You must entertain me with ribald tales of your adventures while I was unconscious."
Alec hesitated briefly before grinning. "I didn't do anything fun, but Mole nearly lit command on fire again. He actually fell asleep with a cigar in his mouth this time, instead of just leaving it around like a dope."
"Alec," Max grunted, "What did you do?"
He grinned to mask his trepidation. "C'mon Maxie, I'm not supposed to upset you."
"Then you should tell me before I'm forced to get up and beat it out of you."
Alec knew he wouldn't get away with a half truth, so he hedged a little. "Well, remember how you were taken to an ordinary hospital? We didn't—we still don't—know how big or bad the group that attacked you would turn out to be. We needed to get you out of there, but the ordinaries were being complete jerks. They absolutely refused to release you to Doc."
"You didn't!" Max's eyes flashed angrily at her husband. "I can't believe you would…"
Alec looked down, ashamed. She had a right to yell at him.
"You are such an idiot! They recognized me didn't they! I mean, there's no way they didn't know?"
Alec swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. He'd known she wouldn't throw her arms around him and say that this was what she'd wanted all along, but there had been the small hope that Max would eventually be okay with other people knowing about their marriage. That was obviously not the case. "I'm sorry, Max."
"Sorry? Oh, okay. Alec is sorry," she bit sarcastically, "that makes everything all right. I thought you were right there with me when we were doing all of the work you just threw out the fucking window!"
Alec looked at his enraged wife—if she even wanted to be that anymore—ready to exacerbate her own injuries just to give him a few. "Is it really that bad, Max?" he managed to push the tentative question out without any tears. Alec was pretty proud of himself on that count.
"That bad?" she screeched. "You broke me out of a hospital! If you hurt anyone—if this makes the nightly news—I want to know who helped you. I want to know who else you pulled into this idiotic little scheme of yours and I want to know exactly how it went down."
Max felt her husband wrap his arms around her before she even saw him move. "I didn't break you out, Maxie," he whispered into her ear. "I didn't do anything illegal. I promise."
She relaxed against him. "If you're just lying to keep me from getting worked up, I'll kill you," she murmured, finding comfort in his warm body.
"You might still be mad at me," he warned. "I broke my promise."
"Oh yeah, which one," she asked lightly. She felt a little bad about jumping all over him for something he didn't do. It was obvious that he had done something wrong, though, and she wasn't about to give him a free pass on that just because she'd been a little premature in her anger.
"A really, really important one," he answered pulling back to look seriously into her eyes.
Max felt her breath hitch. The way he said important could only mean it was one of their wedding promises. She couldn't breathe. There was no way that a female doctor would… No, Alec wouldn't do that, she reminded herself. Alec wasn't that guy, not anymore. But he was still looking at her guiltily. Alec seemed to think he wouldn't be forgiven easily.
"I had to tell them we were married," he blurted. "It really was the only way, ask anyone. And I had to have Joshua get our marriage license to prove it, and Mole and Doc both saw that—that it was real, not a fake—so now they know. And I told them not to tell anyone, but I'm not really sure Mole will keep his mouth shut."
Max blinked. That was it?
"Look, Max, I'm really, really sorry, but we had to get you out of there."
"You okay with it?" she asked curiously.
"What?" he'd heard her; he was just confused by the question.
"Are you okay with people knowing about us?"
"Uh—yeah."
"Okay then," she snuggled back into her pillow. "At least this way no one will think I'm a slut."
Alec tried to tame his dopey grin. Max rolled her eyes at him. Maybe he was a little bit too afraid of her ire.
"Hey Max," her husband asked.
"What?"
"I get to name the baby, right? Because no way is my daughter being named Fixit or whatever."
"Shut up."
"Yes, dear." He leaned in slightly to brush his lips against hers. "Can it be kissing time now?"
She pulled him a little closer. "I already told you to shut up."
Alec pulled back. "So that counts as you picking kissing time again?"
Max groaned in frustration; "Would you please just shut up?"
"I love you, Maxie," Alec answered, kissing her quickly before she could get too mad at him.