DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel doesn't belong to me, but rather to the great Cameron. All hail the Cameron.

A/N: I've decided to switch POV's between Max and Alec for this story. Obviously this one is in Max's, just as the last one was from Alec's. Thanks for reading! And I'd love a review…hint, hint…LOL!

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CHAPTER 2: Tradition and All

Max rolled her shoulders uncomfortably, wondering how things had gotten so twisted. She couldn't believe she was married. She'd never thought she was the marrying type in the first place. Come to think of it, life on the run didn't give a girl much time to think about commitment and stability—especially the M-word.

But now she was married. To Alec. Of all people.

It was sad, really. She'd somehow always equated marriage with the idea of commitment and stability. Neither of which Alec really represented. Commitment was probably just a ten-letter word in the dictionary to Alec. He had never shown any inclination to stop his tom-cattin' ways. He was a male who had never had to really work hard to get any female companionship. Hell, all he had to do was look in the general direction of a girl and that girl melted into a puddle of 'yeses'.

Not that it worked on her. Max frowned because she was sure she'd never melted at any looks Alec had given her. Nope. It helped that every time he looked at her he was wearing that smart-ass smirk, frowning, or staring up at her in indignation after she beat his ass down.

He'd never directed any of those slow-sensual smiles her way. And his eyes didn't twinkle at her, or get all hot and steamy for that matter.

Not that she ever wanted to see that.

And it wasn't like she said "yes" to him often. In fact, it was so rare that whenever she did say 'yes', it usually made him speechless with shock. Of course, she would conveniently forget that she had said "Yes, I do," to loving, cherishing and (dammnit) obeying Alec for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death did them part.

Max groaned inwardly at the last part. It was such an ominous little phrase, "till death do us part." Mostly because it was very likely that it would, given that they were transgenics and were often had a higher propensity for near-death experiences.

Maybe the words should be changed to, "till divorce do us part," or "till annulment do us part." It just seemed to make more sense that way.

In any case, that "death do us part" line reminded Max that Alec also wasn't any candidate for stability either. He was always in one scrape or another, getting his ass (and other parts of his body) shot in an almost monthly basis. What kind of stability was living on the edge like he had the tendency to do?

If she had wanted to be married, it'd be to…a boring, old, unexciting, mind-numbing, overly-principled, straitlaced, polite, staid man…like Logan. Max bit her lip at the depressing scene her thoughts had painted.

She threw a cautious glance at Alec who walked beside her, his large hand on the small of her bare back, as if that were exactly where his hand belonged. She could feel the warmth of it heating up her skin. She cursed the fact that she was wearing a white linen top that ended at her midriff, exposing herself to his touch. It made her melt inside. She paused briefly at the thought, her heart racing in panic. No melting of any kind, Max! she berated herself. Melting—bad. Be cold. Be very, very cold. Be so cold that even hell would freeze over. Remember, melting over Alec, bad.

Yeah, but his hand was still warm on her back, and his scent was tangy and masculine as the light breeze coming from the ocean blew over him. She groaned. The fates really were conspiring against her.

She just wanted her life to be uncomplicated. Simple. Rational.

But with Alec, nothing was ever uncomplicated. Nothing was ever simple. And nothing was ever rational.

Like the tiny little voice inside of her saying that she really didn't mind being married to him. He was one of the handsomest—if not THE handsomest—guy on this cruise. It didn't hurt that she would have him on her arm everywhere they went.

If only he would stop yapping so much.

"You're awful quiet," he mused out loud, slipping his hand from the small of her back to just at the curve of her waist so he could pull her aside and let someone else pass the in the narrow aisles. "I'm almost scared."

"Shuttup!" she replied automatically. She was busy trying not to melt as his fingers, spread over the sensitive skin of her stomach, while his thumb rested lightly on her back, rubbing back and forth comfortably. "And get your hands off of me!"

"I only have one hand on you," he joked, not letting go. Instead, he tightened his grip, and hauled her completely against his side. They were fitted together like two puzzle pieces.

Max was jolted to awareness at how strong and firm, long and lean the lines of his body were. Despite his playfulness and charm, there was nothing really soft about Alec. A part of her always knew that, and was always wary of that.

"You're still mad," he stated matter-of-factly, moving his arm from her waist to drape casually over her bare shoulders. Did she mention that her top was also off-the-shoulder?

"What do I have to be mad about?" she seethed. "Except maybe being married to you."

"Aw, c'mon, Maxie. Admit it, you were jealous," he pointed out, grinning widely from ear-to-ear.

"I was not!" she retorted hotly. "I was playing a part!"

She saw Alec smile skeptically and shrug. "Whatever you say. Besides, it's not technically a part. You are my wife."

"Will you stop saying that?!" she hissed, but felt a slight warmth start to tinge her cheeks. Playing the role—or in this particular instance, the reality—of Alec's wife was surprisingly easy. It wasn't a role she had to slip into.

Nope. All he really ever had to do was put his arm around her, and she was all gooey. She would admit that she went all gooey, but NOT melty. Not that he was ever likely to know his effect on her. It'd only inflate his already ginormous ego to even greater proportions.

"I only speak the truth," he quipped and she rolled her eyes, as they continued to walk around the decks, orienting themselves to the layout of the ship. "Besides, half the people on this ship are on their honeymoon, Max."

"So?"

"We'd look inconspicuous if we didn't act all cuddly." He wiggled his brows at her.

She grimaced at him. "We could be part of the half that ­isn't on a honeymoon," she pointed out reasonably.

He had his arm around her shoulders, his hand hanging comfortably just over her collarbone, when that hand came up to pinch her right cheek suddenly. "Maxie, stop being so cheeky," he admonished playfully. "The beauty of us…is that we are on our honeymoon."

And well, that was the scariest part, she thought as she slapped his hand away from her cheek. Because she really had no excuses not to make good on the "honey" in honeymoon. And Alec was one foine honey.

But before she could retort, Alec squeezed her shoulders tightly, and nodded his head in the direction of the outdoor café on the top deck. "There they are," he murmured quietly.

Max's eyes briefly touched on the stately man and woman drinking a morning cup of coffee and eating their croissants and quiche Lorraines. "Mr. and Mrs. Schulze-Cleven," acknowledged Max.

According to Eyes Only intelligence, Mr. Wulfgang Schulze-Cleven and Mrs. Claudia Schmidt-Schulze-Cleven, were the supposed masterminds behind the Mail-Order Bride and Groom scams. They found rich, unsuspecting men and women who were lonely and looking for love in all the wrong places. They offered their catalog of fine specimen of man- and womanhood, and before they could even say bada-bing-bada-boom, the unsuspecting rich victims were married. Without prenups.

And unfortunately, as part of the wedding package offered, they go on the Love Boat—also owned by the Schulze-Clevens—wherein they proceed to wine, dine, and have a real honeymoon for two to four weeks. Then the unsuspecting rich victims become dead unsuspecting rich victims.

Leaving the new bride or groom filthy rich.

But all of that money actually just fall conveniently into the grasping hands of the Schulze-Clevens, to continue to fund the "Float the Love Boat Operation" as Alec liked to call it.

Their job was to insinuate themselves into the couple's inner circle and gather evidence. Part one of the mission had been easily enough accomplished. They had found out where the Schulze-Clevens married the unsuspecting rich victims. They had posed as elopers, and had begged the Schulze-Clevens to stand as witnesses at their impromptu wedding—which had actually taken weeks to plan.

Hey, even if she'd never thought about weddings before, didn't mean that she didn't want to have the prettiest wedding gown around. But what had really surprised her, was Alec and his little streak of tradition.

"Hey, Maxie," he yelled, bounding happily after her on the way home from Jam Pony. He caught up to her and threw an arm around her shoulders casually.

She turned and eyed him warily. Logan wasn't around, so he didn't have to pretend to be the sweet boyfriend. She shrugged his arm off, and he let it fall. Then, he shoved a ring box into her hand so quickly, that without her enhanced reflexes, the box would have fallen onto the wet pavement.

"What's this?"

"Your ring," he muttered, looking slightly uneasy.

Max frowned, still holding the black velvet box. "My ring?"

"Engagement ring."

She rolled her eyes at him, but her heart was beating like a million drums in her ears. "It's only for an EO thing, Alec," she said testily, still unable to make herself look at the ring inside the box. It just seemed too real if she did. "It's no big deal."

He shrugged and ran a hand through his already-tousled blond-brown hair. "I know, but I thought I'd do right by you and give you a ring, anyway. Isn't that how it's supposed to go? I wanna at least get this right. Tradition and all."

"Oh." She wouldn't argue with that. Tradition and all.

"Open it," he urged eagerly.

She cracked the lid open and peeked into the box. Her mouth went dry at the ring she saw inside. She opened the lid all the way, and felt her jaw drop in even more awe. "It's beautiful," she said, a little bit more breathless than she actually wanted to be.

But the damned ring was gorgeous. "This must be…two-point-five carats?" she whispered.

"Three," he said proudly.

It was a beautiful solitaire, cut so precisely and finely that light fractured into thousands of fragments and turned it into icy fire. It was set on a simple platinum band. Max tentatively took the ring out of the setting and held it between thumb and forefinger. "This must've cost a fortune," she commented. "Who'd you steal it from?"

Alec smirked. "Believe it or not, I didn't."

She frowned at him, wondering briefly why he would go to the trouble to buy a ten-thousand-plus dollar ring for nothing. "That was stupid. But I guess you could always return it."

He shrugged, and took the ring from her. He looked side-to-side, and hiked up a pant leg. Max's eyes went wide as she realized that he was about to kneel in front of her. She grabbed his sleeve and shook her head briskly, "Uh-uh, don't."

"What happened to 'tradition and all'?" he smirked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm not that traditional," she grinned.

He tilted his head sideways and looked heavenward, as if thinking about it. Then he shrugged, "Okay," Then simply held out the ring to her and wiggled his eyebrows playfully, "So, what do you say, Maxie? Care to make an honest man out of me?"

Tears sprung suddenly into Max's eyes. She had never imagined this moment for anything. And to think that she was sharing this with Alec. Of all people.

She shook her head at him, but stuck her hand out anyway. "If this weren't so wrong, I might've been the happiest woman alive," she muttered.

He looked at her strangely, an indecipherable gleam in his eyes, his smile soft, and just slightly crooked. "Who says I can't make you the happiest woman alive, hmm?"

She opened her mouth for a sarcastic remark, but he slid the beautiful ring onto her finger, and all thoughts left her except the absolute perfection of the fit. "How'd you know?" she asked incredulously. She had thought she would need to get it resized, or put tape around it.

He had smirked at her. "I'm a world-class assassin-spy, Maxie, how do you think?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't ruin the moment," she retorted. But she glanced admiringly at her hand, at the ring that gleamed on her finger like it belonged there. Too bad she would have to return it. She sighed heavily and offered him a small crooked smile. "It's beautiful, Alec," she said simply. "Thanks."

And he smiled. And she had felt herself go all gooey inside. So she smacked him before riding away on her bike, leaving him in her dust.

Max glanced down at the two rings on her finger now. They were both beautiful: simple and classic, but no doubt elegant and expensive. Who knew Alec had such good taste? She hadn't even been bothered with the details such as getting the rings. All she had cared about was her dress. It wasn't very likely that she would ever get another chance to wear one again.

"Shall we complete the second phase of our mission, Mrs. McDowell?" Alec murmured against her ear, in what might have been mistaken as a man nuzzling his wife lovingly.

Max slipped into her role—or whatever—and leaned into Alec, letting his lips touch her ear lightly. "Mmm, yes, Mr. McDowell, let's."

With that, they sauntered casually towards the Schulze-Clevens, arms around each other. A look of pleasant surprise was plastered on Alec's face as he steered Max towards their targets. "Wulf!" he cried exuberantly, waving at the older man.

Wulfgang and Claudia looked up, and smiled in delight. They had been two very easy targets for Alec's charm, and Max's seeming sweet shyness.

"Alec…Maxine," smiled Claudia, spreading her arms wide in a gesture of welcome. "Sit with us."

Max gritted her teeth at being called "Maxine". She hated that name. She couldn't remember when she had ever been Maxine. Oh, wait…that one time, when Logan had tried so very hard to make her fit into his world. "Max" just wasn't an acceptable enough name for a girl, apparently.

"Actually, her name is Max," said Alec, with a cheeky grin on his face as they each took a seat. "It was one of the reasons that we even started talking. I tried calling her something else, but she kept on insisting her name was Max. Just Max."

She smiled at Alec in the expected way a wife smiled adoringly at her gorgeous husband. But inside, she couldn't help but feel gratified that he had made the move to correct the Schulze-Clevens. She would never have done it, and she would have hated every moment she was referred to as Maxine. "Oh, don't be silly, Alec. It wasn't the issue of my name that sealed the deal for us, it was yours," she teased back.

"Really?" asked Wulfgang, leaning in interestedly. It was no secret that he liked to listen to "how-we-met-and-fell-in-love" stories to use for his schemes and scams.

Max smiled at Wulf and leaned in towards him, too, as if telling a secret. "See, I had to…guess…his name. My first choice was Dick. I thought it fit him to a T."

"But of course, she's come to love 'Alec'," he smiled widely at her, covering her smaller hand with his and squeezing it gently in a gesture of affection.

Max felt the little squeeze straight to her heart. Her smile quavered a bit, but she kept on with their charade. "Oh, but I still feel the urge to call him Dick. A lot."

Wulf and Claudia chuckled appropriately, and shared a meaningful glance at each other. Perhaps to most people, the Schulze-Clevens were looking lovingly into one another's eyes, but she could practically see the wheels turning in their heads, calculating and committing the banter to memory for future use.

Max had to control the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she allowed herself to look around the ship in keen interest. "Your ship is lovely! I'm so glad you suggested this cruise for our honeymoon," she gushed.

"Oh! Yes, yes," said Wulfgang, as if just remembering something. "Claudia and I were just talking about the both of you, and we feel that the two tiny cabins you have were simply unacceptable for a couple on their honeymoon—even if they do have adjoining doors."

"So, we discussed it, and since we were really touched by your story of how you had to elope instead of having a grand wedding, to get away from her obsessive, controlling ex-boyfriend who was set on ruining everything for you, we've decided to offer both of you one of our lovely honeymoon suites!" exclaimed Claudia, clasping her hands in front of her in excitement.

The look of surprise on Max's face was genuine. She wasn't sure if she wore a shocked-surprise, horrified-surprise, or pleasantly-surprised expression (maybe all three), but she was surprised.

"That's very generous of you," said Alec, his voice warm, but regretful. "But we really just can't pay for the honeymoon suite right this moment. We hadn't planned for any of this to happen, remember?"

Max nodded mutely in agreement.

"Oh, we insist!" said Claudia, reaching over and placing her beautifully manicured hand over Max and Alec's. "Everything is on us!"

Max turned to look at Alec. His expression, underneath the smile, was unreadable. His eyes were oddly bright, burning slightly. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt like she was having a heart attack. There was a reason they had pretended to be a young couple just starting out in life. There was a reason why they had pretended they couldn't afford anything but the cabins in the lowest deck. There was a reason why they had two cheap, separate rooms in the lowest deck.

But not anymore. She was going to have to share a honeymoon suite with Alec. For two weeks.

Damn.

Things really could get worse.

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