Author's note: Sorry this took so long. Was suffering from a case of Writer's Block, as well as dealing with work and school stuff. This chapter is dedicated to Christy, who prodded me and reminded me to update!

Chapter Seven

Alec was not having a good week at all. Seregil was being moody again, and Alec's efforts to cheer him up were all in vain. When he had suggested that Seregil go seek Nysander out to spend time with him, Seregil had simply shaken his head and refused to go, so that was that. It made Alec wonder what Nysander could have possibly said to him at the Cavish family dinner, but Seregil remained absolutely tight-lipped about that.

To be fair, Alec had not told Seregil about the argument between him and Beka either, which was still hanging over his mind like a dark, gloomy cloud. He knew that Beka had meant well, that she had only wanted to warn him about getting too close to Seregil, but he had surprisingly snapped when she mentioned that she had told Micum about Alec turning down a potential date because of Seregil. That was plain embarrassing, and he had chided her for telling her father things that were supposed to only be between Beka and himself. Fire had flashed in Beka's eyes as she had retorted that she was only looking out for him, and the argument had come to an abrupt, ugly end when Kari had come in to usher them in to dinner.

As a result, Alec was having an awful, awkward time at work as well, since he mostly worked the same shifts as Beka. She spoke to him whenever necessary about work, but he missed her warmth, her humour, her constant support. He wanted to bridge things, but he didn't know how. He wished he could talk to someone about it, but Seregil was equally distant and preoccupied, and Alec just felt very, very lost and alone.

Surprisingly, an unexpected source of comfort came from Micum, who never asked any prying questions and kept Alec company as much as he could. When the pub was quiet one night, Micum brought Alec into the office to help him with some data entry while Beka manned the place. It was a bit of a relief to be away from the noise, as well as the tension simmering between him and Beka.

Micum was watching him clatter away at the keyboard, downing a swig of lager. "Hey, things okay between you and Beka?" he asked, his tone a little too casual. "The two of you are really like cats and dogs sometimes."

Alec's fingers paused over the keyboard. "Just some stuff, I guess," he said reluctantly. "You know Beka, she'll get over it."

Micum just nodded, flipping through the ledger while Alec resumed his data entry. An amused noise from Micum made Alec look up from his work. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, just going through the staff and customer feedback about our resident band." Micum was hiding his smile behind his mug. "I think it's safe to say that we won't be renewing the contract for 'Birth Of The Cool'. In fact, one customer says that it sounds like a dying cat being dragged repeatedly over a violin."

Despite himself, Alec had to grin. "I think Seregil said something along those lines too."

Micum arched an eyebrow. "So how's that coming along?"

"What? With Seregil?" Alex kept his eyes fixed on the screen, not wanting to meet Micum's own searching ones.

"Yeah, I mean, have you decided whether he is the real deal yet?"

"I mean, we're just friends." Alec felt himself getting more and more flustered, his cheeks heating up in a flare of indignation. "I don't understand why everyone thinks we're-"

"Alec." Now both of Micum's eyebrows were almost touching his hairline, making him look uncharacteristically surprised. Nothing much ever fazed Micum. "I meant, do you think Seregil is a con man? Or is he really from, um, another world?"

"Oh." Alec just blinked. Well, that was embarrassing. "Oh. I um, yeah. I think he's the real deal."

Micum heaved such a heavy sigh that a sheet of paper flew off his desk, making him bend down to pick it up. "I'm sure that Beka has told you that I decided to run a background check on Seregil."

Alec considered denying it, but it was very hard for him to lie to Micum. He gave a single, sharp nod.

"Well, I did the check, twice, before you two came to dinner. And I have to say, he's clean." Micum huffed out an astonished laugh. "The guy's like a ghost, man. No record of him whatsoever. So he's either an ex-CIA agent, or he really is who he says he is."

"Well." Alec shrugged, running his fingers over the faded keys on the board. "I never really doubted him."

"I'm sure you didn't." Micum was now giving him this shrewd, appraising look, much like how he had when Beka had first brought Alec over for a job interview. "I don't know what to tell you. Except, good luck, perhaps. And be careful."

Alec nodded distractedly, letting the various thoughts swirl in his head until they became a complicated jumble of words. "I will."

"Anyway." Micum sat up, smiling at him cheerfully. "We can look forward to a new band quite soon. I've engaged this guy from Toronto, so he and his band will soon be taking over."

Although Alec appreciated the tactful change in subject, he still felt as though Micum was talking to him through a thick glass wall. His mind was still on other more pressing matters. "That's nice," he said a little distantly, nodding as Micum chatted gaily, telling him all about the new band.

Determined to get Seregil into a better mood, Alec marched home with some nice Thai takeaway and a good bottle of wine – whatever he could afford on his salary, anyway. It seemed to work at first, because Seregil had smiled and given Alec a one-armed hug that felt more blissful that it had any right to. Quickly brushing that aside in his traitorous brain, Alec helped to find the plates and cutlery while Seregil laid out the food. Dinner was a quiet and calm affair, Alec doing most of the talking while Seregil nodded in the right places.

The wine proved to be an unexpected post-dinner surprise, and Alec enjoyed feeling its warmth settling comfortably in his stomach. He had turned the lights down low earlier as he and Seregil had a little chat, then he had decided to turn on some soft music. When he had returned, Seregil wasn't on the couch anymore, so Alec turned his attentions to a copy of 'People' that was lying on the table.

Although there was an interview with one of his favourite actresses, Alec was irritated to find his mind constantly wandering off, looking up every now and then for Seregil. He had to leave the man alone and let him have some space, he couldn't very well follow him around like a puppy everywhere, right?

Sighing, Alec tried to focus on the same paragraph for the third time running. Still, it was useless. He tossed the magazine aside and got up, heading for the balcony. Maybe some fresh air would do him good.

When he slid the door open, he was surprised to find Seregil outside, leaning on the railing and looking down at the view of the city. He smiled when he saw Alec, shifting over to make room for him. "Bored?"

"It was a little too quiet," Alec admitted, going over to stand beside Seregil. "I guess I'm too used to your constant complaining and grumbling."

Seregil chuckled. "Glad to know I was missed."

Alec studied his friend, who was still gazing down at the city, but his thoughts were obviously elsewhere. His wide gray eyes were especially pensive, and Alec had a pretty good idea why.

"You miss him, don't you?" It was more a statement than a question.

Seregil gave him a sardonic smile, a sad little twist to his lips. "We've been apart before, so I don't know why I'm taking things so hard." His eyes were now resting on Alec's face. "I think it's because it's more difficult when I look at you. I see him, but you're not him. It's like looking at an apple, then biting into it and realising it tastes like an orange. Am I even making sense?"

Alec tried to ignore the little lump rising in his throat. "Of course," he said, hoping his voice sounded casual enough. This situation was crazy enough without tossing his own weird feelings into the mix.

Thankfully, Seregil took his eyes off Alec and stared into the distance again. "The pain is incredibly odd. I can't quite explain it." His voice was filled with a strange ache. "When we were apart before, I never laid eyes on him for weeks. But now, you are a constant reminder of him, and also a reminder of how you're not him."

Alec closed his eyes. "I'm sorry." He didn't know why he said it. He just wanted to take away the anguish in those pensive gray eyes.

He felt a hand on his cheek, and he opened his eyes to find Seregil looking at him with concern. And just a tinge of longing. "Don't apologise, tali," he whispered. "It's not your fault. None of this is."

Despite his better judgement, Alec leaned into Seregil's hand, pressing his cheek against the cool palm. "I'm just- I don't want to see you sad."

He knew that little statement revealed a lot more about himself than he knew he should reveal to Seregil, but to his relief, Seregil didn't take his hand away. "Let's go inside," he said instead, with a little shiver. "It's cold."

When they went inside, the lights were still dimmed and the music was still playing softly, and it suddenly struck Alec how romantic the atmosphere was, if he had had any such inclinations. Still, with Seregil standing so close to him, who was he kidding? He liked the man. A lot. And he had no business doing so.

Not for the first time, he wished he was Seregil's Alec.

"Alec." He turned around to face Seregil, who seemed troubled yet determined. His eyes looked especially tired, and Alec wondered if his friend knew how much someone could read him just from his eyes.

"Yes, Seregil?"

"If we could-" Here, Seregil paused and took a deep breath, and Alec sensed that something was going to happen, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to stop it.

"Just say it."

Seregil heaved a pained sigh, then looked straight at Alec. "I miss him. A lot. And I don't wish to be unfaithful. But if we could just-" He broke his gaze, frowning as he seemed to search for the right words. "If I could just hold you, just for a while, just to remember him?" Now his bottom lip appeared to be trembling. "It just occurred to me that I may never see him again-"

Alec reached out and brushed a thumb across Seregil's lips. "Do it," he said, hating the desperate edge in his voice. "Don't overthink it. Just do it."

The surprise in Seregil's eyes was gratifying, but he tried to push away the thought that they were doing something wrong. This was just comfort after all, right? He wanted it, and Seregil wanted it.

"Alright." Seregil hesitated for a while, then raised his arms and slid them around Alec. It was awkward at first, then Alec shifted slightly so he could wrap his arms around Seregil's waist as well. Surprisingly, they were a perfect fit, and for the first time, Alec felt completely safe in someone's arms.

"Tali," Seregil whispered against his shoulder, and he found himself burying his nose in Seregil's long dark hair, scented with sandalwood. He smelled good and clean and pure and inviting.

He wondered just how different he and Seregil's Alec really were, but from the tales that Seregil told him, the other Alec sounded kind, honest, smart and courageous, and Alec wondered if Seregil could really tell the difference between the two of them, the real differences beyond the surface, of course.

Alec hadn't even realised they were moving along slowly to the music until the CD stopped, and he tightened his arms around Seregil, not wanting the moment to end. This was not fair. If there was Micum and Beka and Nysander in Seregil's world, then why wasn't there a Seregil for him here in this universe? The thought brought him both despair and a flare of hope. What if he could never find his own Seregil? What if he was meant to be alone?

He could feel Seregil moving, and he found himself face to face with the man. The wide grey eyes were glittering with tears, then Seregil leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

Alec didn't dare to move. Oh, how he wanted to respond, to kiss those warm lips back, but when Seregil pulled away with a hint of regret in his eyes, he said nothing.

"I'm so sorry, tali," he heard Seregil whisper, and he didn't need to be a wizard to know that Seregil wasn't talking to him.

The next morning, Seregil wasn't in the apartment when he woke up, so Alec assumed that he had gone off for a walk, or just for some time to himself to think. Truth be told, Alec was wrestling with confusion and guilt after the previous night, and he didn't know how to face Seregil either. He felt as though he had helped a married man to cheat. Which was ridiculous, considering their circumstances, but then now Alec wasn't quite so sure.

By the time an hour had passed and their breakfasts were growing cold, Seregil was still not back yet and Alec was almost beside himself with worry. If Seregil had left, where could he go and what could he do? He did not have much money, apart from his ineffective Skalan sesters as well as a small amount of money that Alec had given him a few days earlier. Still, Seregil was resourceful enough to find his way out. But to where?

Thankfully, the shrill ring of the phone interrupted Alec's panicky thoughts and he jumped up, grabbing the receiver. "Hello?"

"Alec, he's with us, so you don't have to worry." It was Nysander's calm, collected let's-not-panic voice on the phone. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." The relief that washed over Alec was immense, but an edge of anger was starting to creep in. "Why did he leave without telling me? I was worried out of my mind!"

Nysander sighed. "He didn't mean to." There was a pause, then Alec heard that familiar muffled voice in the background. He simultaneously felt like hitting and kissing Seregil. Then Nysander spoke again, "He says that he's very sorry, but you both need some time to think."

Alec slumped against the wall, defeated. If Seregil didn't want to stay with him, there was nothing he could do. "Please take care of him for me, Mr. Nysander."

"I will." Nysander's voice sounded so profound, so full of empathy. "And you take care of yourself, my dear boy. Call us if you need anything."

Alec was still staring at the phone long after Nysander had hung up, listening to the dead dial tone, gripping the handset until his knuckles were white.

Maybe it was for the best after all.

To be continued