Author's note: This adorable oneshot starts off in the middle of a scene...something I'm not very fond of, much less comfortable, doing...but I really wanted to share it. I could be prompted to perhaps write a prequel...after I wrap up my other three open multi-chaptered stories that just won't end! Or use it as an excuse to dodge one or all of them...(deep cleansing breath)...So, enjoy!
Music suggestions: 'Umbrella' by All Time Low, 'Maybe' by Sick Puppies.
Disclaimer: Don't own Dark Angel.
The Proper Moving Technique
"Do you love me?" Max asked in a brusque tone, her gaze drilling a hole into Alec's head as she propped her chin on one hand against the bar.
Instead of answering, Alec sent her a glance filled with a womanizing man's fear of commitment and uncertainty of his own feelings before he turned towards the bar and held up his glass for another scotch. Luckily, no liquid had been present in his mouth at the time of her overly direct question.
After it became apparent that he wasn't going to supply an answer, Max began to talk bluntly. "Alec, we're sleeping together. You stayed for the morning after the first time we had sex."
"It's not like I did it on purpose! You wore me out." Alec grumbled argumentatively to the countertop.
"I now occupy the bottom drawer in your dresser at your apartment." Max continued matter-of-factly.
"You do? When did that happen?" Alec asked in a stumped tone, staring into the bottom of his empty glass as if examining for hallucinogenics.
"Even Normal suspects that we're in a serious relationship." Max supplied in an exasperated tone, throwing her hands up and shrugging her shoulders.
"Normal suspects I'm in a relationship with at least half the girls in Seattle." Alec countered, pointing his finger at Max as if this were an accepted fact.
"It's been over three months and I need to know if this is going anywhere or if I'm just wasting my time." Max said resolutely, ignoring everything Alec had just said. "So, Alec, what's it going to be? How do you feel about me?"
Alec stared imploringly at the busy bartender at the other end of the bar before clunking his empty glass on the counter, staring at it with a singular focus.
"That's actually a bit of a complicated answer that I think would be best answered after a drink." Alec finally said in a hushed tone, his lips turning in a sardonic smile.
"You've been at the bar for over an hour. How many drinks do you need?" Max asked incredulously, holding her hand out expressively towards the empty glass in his right hand.
"I wasn't talking about me." Alec said in clear avoidance, pestering her.
Max turned towards the bar, dropping her hands onto the bar as she let her gaze rest on her fingers. "You don't have to profess your love, Alec. I know from experience how difficult those words can be to say. I just want to know if you care at all, or if this is just some extended one-night stand with the leader of the transgenic resistance."
Ah, hell. He should have known that Max wasn't above guilt-tripping him. And she seemed to know exactly which strings to pull to make him bend over backwards to placate her.
"Come on now, Max. How can you say something like that? Of course I care." Alec stated in a pronounced whisper, reaching over to tentatively rest one hand over both of hers. "It's not just because you're some kind of transgenic celebrity, you mean a lot more than that to me. Probably a lot more than you should." Alec mumbled at the end, squeezing the hand that had flipped palm up to his. His fingers reflexively twined around hers.
When he briefly snuck a glance at Max, her eyes were glittering with some unnamed emotion as she cracked a subdued but genuine smile.
"Thanks, Alec." Max said in a quiet tone, her laced fingers sliding from his. She then turned and jumped off the bar stool, her attitude morphing into something that he would have called chipper if it'd been anyone else. "I've already got most of my stuff packed up, but I'm gonna need a hand with the transportation as well as the bigger stuff."
"What?" Alec asked in a confounded tone, looking completely blank. He must have blacked out for part of the conversation. He'd been really good about not doing that lately.
"OC's got a new girlfriend and she wants Claudine to move in with her. Besides, that apartment gets real drafty in the winter and no part of my spliced up DNA enjoys that." Max rattled off nonchalantly, waving her hand over her shoulder as if batting something off of it.
"You're moving in with me?" Alec asked stupidly, his eyes wide and a touch frightful as he caught on to what she was implying.
"Well, who else am I supposed to move in with? Logan?" Max asked in a sarcastic tone, gazing at him, hard.
"No?" Alec replied in an unsure tone, still lost at to how they'd entered this particular conversation.
"Good. Then it's settled." Max said briskly, her tone less hostile. Taking a few steps away, she paused and called out over her shoulder, "I need to be out by this weekend, before that diplomatic meeting you have with the Seattle senate on Monday."
"O...okay." Alec responded slowly, his brain unable to produce any more words, leaving him there gaping as Max pulled the coat OC handed her and climbed the steps towards the exit.
"How'd it go?" OC queried as they reached the exit.
"Exactly as I thought it would." Max replied with a Cheshire grin.
ooouooo*ooomooonoo*oooxooocoo
This was a short little something that was inspired by a prompt by the website that holds my only other penname in fanfiction-dom as well as a few lines from "You belong with me" by Taylor Swift. Did anyone catch the True Blood reference? I was absolutely obsessed with the book series around the time I wrote this oneshot, which was months upon months ago! The Seattle senate mention is a passing nod to the DA book series by Max Allen. By the way, is the title more understandable now? (nudge, nudge) Get it? Eh, only in my mind perhaps, lol!