Originally uploaded to AO3 under the username "OneJumpFromEden" on the 1st-Dec-2015, intended as a month-long collection of oneshots, one per day. Reposted here due to popular demand. Thus, I will simple be copying the chapter note from there, and not all of them will necessarily makes sense in retrospect.
Just to clarify, this is an AU where during her five years in Seattle, Max and Chloe kept in touch. As a result of having Max's constant support, Chloe's more rebellious self was slightly curbed, therefore never leading to the events in the bathroom where she was shot. Max has no powers (or hasn't discovered them given that Chloe didn't die), and Chloe and Rachel never got as close as they were in canon. Will be part of a collection. Feedback is very much appreciated.
There's something to be said for the calm of October.
Sure Chloe's worried about that Rachel Amber chick. They hung out a lot while Max was in Seattle, along with that Frank guy, but apart from Chloe and the looming "Everyday Heroes" deadline, Max had no pressing concerns.
The slightly tinted golden light filtering through the leaves cast her room in a warm glow. Chloe was sprawled across Max's bed, flipping through the photo albums she's compiled while still living in Seattle, and occasionally quizzing Max about one she found particularly interesting. She'd asked why there were none of the famous "Space Needle," to which Max had only replied with a grunt and a head-nod in the direction of the wall to her right, where the picture of herself and her dad was pinned.
Why Chloe had insisted on coming over to bother Max (though Chloe could never really bother Max, the mousey-haired girl positively relished the blonde's presence after a five-year absence) while she was doing nothing more interesting than studying the names and achievements of a group of long-dead photographers, Max wouldn't know. Maybe it was nothing more than the fact that Chloe had missed Max just as much as she'd missed Chloe, even just being in the same room as each other was more than enough.
"When'd you start playing guitar?" Chloe piped up, pointing to the album. Max spun in her chair to look at the photograph. She remembered that one, the shot of her tuning it the day she'd bought it. Max hadn't taken the picture herself, her mom had snapped it when she'd stepped into the room, but Max liked it anyway, so she stuck it in the book.
"A few months after I moved. I was having trouble making friends so I signed up for music classes," she said, standing and walking over to join Chloe on the bed, her slight weight pressing down on the mattress causing it to dip. The limited space meant Max's arm brushed against Chloe's side, as she leaned over to look at the photo closer. Neither spoke, but both enjoyed even the slight contact. Chloe turned to meet Max's eyes.
"So in keeping with the whole doe-eyed hipster waif image, you've only learned how to play one song. Enough to impress the ladies, no doubt," she teased, winking. Max scoffed.
"Totally. Everybody digs the lost-looking twig girl and her fantastic guitar skills," she shrugged, "it did work though. I made friends. My guitar's over there," she nodded to the decrepit-looking old acoustic leaning against the couch. The body was frayed and dirtied around the edges, and it really was in need of a re-string. But it was her baby, and she dared not think of replacing it. "And fyi, I can play at least two songs."
It was Chloe's turn to scoff.
"Alright then Superstar Max, prove it," she taunted, rolling onto her back and tucking her arms behind her head, photo album forgotten, "seduce me, or whatever it is you do to unsuspecting young girls."
Max smiled and rose to grab it. Chloe practically deflated when Max did not return to the bed, rather, chose to sit on the loveseat and play. As the first notes rang out, Chloe found herself initially confused as to how something so smooth and relaxing could be produced by Maxine Caulfield. Awkward, jerky, wonderfully dorky Max Caulfield.
Her second thought was that this song was actually pretty amazing, and decided never again to make fun of Max's musical and general artistic prowess.
Her third thought was that maybe Max seducing numerous girls and boys was a slightly less ridiculous concept now.