A/N: Many thanks to my sister, who has been very tolerant with my latest obsession and provided the prompt "ice cream" when I asked her for one while we were sitting in her grad school's computer lab on a Sunday night. She's great and I love her bunches.
"Ice cream?" Alec bellows in outraged disbelief. "There's no ice cream in 2077? What kind of dystopian hellscape is this place?"
They're out wandering around the city after a long day for Kiera at the precinct. Alec noticed Kiera staring longingly at a Dairy Queen and jokingly commented it was like she'd never seen one before. Her confirmation is seriously blowing his mind.
"Wait, wait," he holds his hands up in her direction to forestall any response, "don't tell me. Do I hoard all delicious frozen dairy desserts in the future?"
She winces slightly; future Alec is something of a touchy subject. To a degree he supposes he understands; it's gotta be complicated for her. If she wants to have any hope of returning to her timeline, to her son, Alec has to turn into this soulless corporate dictator or whatever that he definitely doesn't want to be. If she lets him choose his own path, it's likely she's willingly erasing her future/past from existence. Talk about a conflict of interest. Of course, the entire consideration is completely theoretical, but that doesn't help Alec sleep any better at night.
"I imagine you do have access to some, maybe, but for the rest of us, it's an unnecessary luxury. Food is distributed in pre-packaged rations; actual cow's milk isn't very efficient to produce as compared to soy milk, so." Kiera shrugs.
"That is completely and utterly depressing. Come on, future girl, we're getting ice cream." He grabs her arm and starts steering her toward the store.
"In this weather?" She sounds doubtful, but also eager, and it makes Alec unbelievable happy to see her that way. She's so serious most of the time. Little by little, though, she's been loosening up.
"A little chill does not necessitate forgoing ice cream," declares Alec. "Besides, all those calories technically warm you up. Come on, let's go!"
He expects Kiera to take forever to choose a flavor, but she orders a vanilla cone easily. There's a brief awkward pause as Alec debates if he's supposed to pay for both of them, but it passes without incident when Kiera pulls out her own wallet. He's not 100 percent sure how she managed to open a bank account without official documentation (he suspects Kellogg is involved somehow), but he decides it's best not to ask right now.
They continue walking, and Alec comments, "You know, if this were a romantic comedy, you'd definitely be getting ice cream on your nose right about now, leaving me with no choice but to lick it off."
She laughs, to his delight. "One, gross. Two, this is too precious to waste on faux-cute gestures. I'll lick it off my own nose if I have to; I'm not sharing."
"Glad we're in agreement, because I am most definitely not sharing either."
To Alec's shock, Kiera slips her hand into his with no warning. His whole body hums, and he glances over at Kiera; it's too dark to tell, but he suspects she's blushing. Well.
Their journey back toward Kiera's place continues for several more minutes in companionable silence, Alec reflecting that this is significantly better than he could have imagined, and also that he's turning into a giant sap, because really? Hand-holding? Not exactly the pinnacle of passion.
"Let's do this again," he suggests impulsively. "Tomorrow. I'll pick you up from the station, and we'll just wander. You can try chocolate this time, or whatever. It'll be – Kiera?"
Her features are twisted in a grimace; he quickly runs back through his words in his mind, but aside from pushing his luck a little, he can't think of anything inherently wrong with what he's said.
Kiera shakes her head. "No. I – I can't. You can't just show up at the station. How would I explain it?"
She has a point, actually, in that she hasn't revealed the identity of her "Section Six" contact yet. Still, he's pretty sure her reluctance has another source. So, perhaps unwisely, he pushes.
"You don't have to say anything about Section Six. Just tell them we're hanging out. It'll be fine."
She shakes her head again. "Carlos knows who you are, from the—" she hesitates – "you know, incident on the farm. It's going to seem pretty weird to him that I'm hanging out with Julian Randol's stepbrother."
"I don't think he's going to suspect me of Liber8 sympathies, if that's what you're getting at. I helped save his life." And yeah, maybe he's bragging a little now.
She still looks unconvinced.
He's going to regret this later, but right now, he doesn't care. "That's not it, though, is it? You're ashamed for your work buddies to see you with some kid. Right? Especially Carlos, because…"
Actually, he's not sure how to finish that thought, which is just as well, because Kiera looks pissed. Crap.
"Jealousy does not look good on you," she says coolly.
"Yeah, well, that's because blue is more my color," he answers flippantly, still not willing to back down.
She yanks her hand away and he immediately misses the warmth as she demands, "What exactly do you want from me, Alec? You say we can move at my pace, but when I tell you I'm not ready to see you at work, you get mad. How is that fair?"
"Yeah, well, what am I supposed to think? Forgive me for wanting to see my – you in public!"
"What about this is not public enough for you?"
"How about the fact that you refuse to acknowledge me in front of anyone you know?"
She turns away from him then, and he has every intention of continuing the argument until he registers that she's crying.
"Do you even realize what you're asking of me?" she whispers tremulously. "Carlos knows I have a son. A family. If I show up tomorrow and tell him I'm dating someone…" There she goes, wiping her nose on her sleeve again. A disgusting, yet oddly endearing, habit. "I can't, Alec," she goes on. "It's not that I care what Carlos thinks – I mean, I do, but it's a little late for that, isn't it?" There's no humor in the little laugh she lets out. "I just can't deal with this inevitable questions. Not yet. I'm still trying to accept the truth that I'm probably never going home. I'm not ready to… explain to Carlos, or Betty, or anyone else, that I can't see my family again. Maybe they've already assumed, I don't know. But, please… I just need time."
Alec reaches out to trace a line from her cheek to her chin. "Of course. Time," he echoes. "I get it. Take as much as you need."
She rewards him with a watery smile. "Rain check on the chocolate ice cream, though?"
