A/N: A short little oneshot-type idea I had one night while staying up far past my bedtime with a 9 AM class the next morning. Anyways, hopefully it'll also kind of make up for my lack of updates overall.

"So uh… you know, I've been meaning to ask you something for awhile now."

Alicia glanced over as the blonde-haired Commander started to speak; watching as he rubbed at the back of his head in an almost nervous-like manner. It almost looked like he was… contemplating his question and actually thinking it through first. While she wasn't entirely sure if she was curious enough to listen to the rest of it, the rain outside kept them temporarily settled in an abandoned convenience store with little else to do except look out the window. And as much as she enjoyed doing so… it wouldn't really hurt to have a break in the cycle… right?

"What is it?"

The fact that she responded made it feel like there was just a bit more pressure on him to finish his statement. Letting out a light chuckle, he leaned against one of the ruined shelving units and tried to finish the sentence in his head. "I mean, this might be a bit straight forward but uh… do you think your… father would've approved of me?"

Why would he- was this really the time for that kind of question?

No wait… maybe it wouldn't hurt to just… look at it with a clear mind, just this once though. She studied him for a moment; noting that the process only seemed to make him just a tad bit more… jumpy. Slowly, she turned her attention back to the window and watched as the rain droplets splattered themselves mercilessly against the glass; they did little to clean off the baked on smears and blood stains though. "No."

"Wow, that quick? Harsh." Maxwell replied with another chuckle; although he really didn't feel surprised by the answer.

"You look like the kind of guy who would only be out to corrupt his only daughter." she continued as she reached forward and lightly pressed fingertips against the glass; watching as faint images of her fingerprints were left behind in the thin layer of condensation. "Just like any father really… he wouldn't approved of anyone, so don't feel so heartbroken over that answer."

"You do have a point." he started slowly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sure if I had a daughter, I'd much rather her become a nun that run off with some guy."

She felt herself shake her head lightly at the remark as her dark eyes followed the dirty traces of raindrops as they smeared themselves all the way to the ground. There was no shame in being curious about the same thing… right? Glancing back at him, she watched as he seemed partly preoccupied with a small dent in his chest plate for the moment. "What about me? Would your family have approved?"

He looked up at the question and narrowed his eyes lightly in thought. She watched as fingertips lightly touched at the scruff on his chin as he looked up towards the ceiling- he always did such motion when he tried to get things together in his head. "That's… kind of like a trick question…"

"How so?"

"Ah, well you see… let me lay out the whole thing here. My mother was the classic example of a Southern woman; she was a short, plump little woman who spent more time at church than she did working. She was a carefree case and could make anyone laugh on the dime. My father, however, was a stiff collar, suit-coordinated type businessman; he worked however much he needed to to get work done and provide for the family. Now, how the hell those two met, I don't even remember now- it might've been at a bar- but my mother used to always laugh about how she married a 'Yankee' man. How the hell they managed to handle three of us, I still can't figure that out even now." he started; smiling lightly at the recollection of the memories. "But, anyways, the point of that explanation was that… well seeing as you're a 'witch', my mother would've probably not been a big fan of that; plus I was kind of like a momma's boy and I was her only son, so she wouldn't let me go so easily. Now my dad on the other hand, would've been like any father with his son, with all the congratulations and shaking hands. I can actually hear his voice right now, saying 'Good eye, Maxwell, good eye.'"

She listened closely to the story and almost couldn't help but to find a soft smile as she heard the small hint of happiness in his voice; at this point in the world, all they had left was memories of the ones they loved… and it was best to cherish those memories while they were still clear.

"Now my older sister wouldn't have liked you solely for the fact that she never got into the whole 'Gothic' theme and she would've thought you were some Satanist." he continued. "My younger sister would've agreed though- partly for the fact that she told me that I would never be able to find someone who could put up with me willingly. But then again, if you look at the circumstances, you're really not here just willingly- so I guess in the end, she was kind of right."

"I've gone head to head with bullet storms, Geist giants, tanks and not to mention Omega." Alicia started. "Do you think a little rain like this would stop me?"

"Well when it's in a list like that, no." Maxwell answered.

"I guess that means I'm here willingly then."