Aah, here we are at chapter three. I got a little caught up in my CSI fic,
I love a good angst story. It's fun torturing those poor helpless
characters. *insert evil cackle here* Aw, you know you like it too. Think
Lady Heather. Um, actually, that's in CSI. Never mind. *blushes*
And I just noticed that I haven't put in a disclaimer. So here it is. If I
owned DA, I'd be rich and the show would still be on the air. As neither of
those things are true, I guess that means I don't own it.
Some notes – inside asterisks ** are thoughts. And this relieves some of
the mystery, but I found a good spot to end it and did. I'll continue ASAP,
though.
On to the story.
~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~
Chapter 3: Ghost
"Ung-huuu..." His incoherent groan faded as he woke, slowly and oh-so painfully. Transgenics, contrary to popular belief, could get drunk. It just took a hell of a lot more effort – and alcohol.
"Mental note to self. Never do that again." Alec cracked open his eyes, the faint light stabbing into his ultra sensitive eyes. His first – and only, he promised himself grimly – drunk experience had been unpleasant to say the least. The last thing he remembered was picking a fight with a guy twice his size. Looking down his partially clothed body and taking in the fact that he really wasn't very bruised at all, he assumed the other guy was lying in a gutter somewhere wondering what he'd done to deserve it. *At least I'm in my apartment.* Sitting up slowly, he took in his sprawl across his couch. Part of his couch. He began looking for his clothes. Unable to locate his shirt, jacket or shoes, he decided that he would just have to suck it up and attempt to stand.
Flash of memory then.
Max? She had said something about a contest, and he'd agreed. There had been a crowd? He groaned again when he remembered the crowd that had gathered to watch the transgenic's drinking contest.
"You have got to be kidding me. Ugh." Now that he was on his feet, he noticed something that would not have normally been considered odd, but in light of the current situation, was.
"Hello?" His voice reverberated through his apartment, but there was no answer. He gingerly picked up the lacy black bra that was lying next to his couch, not because he was embarrassed about touching it, he figured he'd probably been the one to remove it from it's owner in the first place, but because his head was pounding fiercely.
"Hello?" he called again, wincing at the sound of a car horn down the street. Slowly he wandered to his bedroom. Empty. Bathroom. Empty. Kitchen? No, that was empty too. "Huh. Musta left."
Dropping the bra and deciding that he didn't feel brave enough for food, he made his way back to his bedroom. Rummaging in the mess on the floor, he found a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt. He still had his wallet, which was also still moderately full, and he wondered vaguely if he'd paid his tab. *Not that it matters much. I can always pay tonight.*
He planned on drinking again tonight at Crash, just not getting drunk again. *How can Sketchy stand it?*
Collecting his bag and gloves and retrieving his keys, Alec headed out his door and on to work.
~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~
Max groaned, in much the same fashion that Alec was doing around the same time. She didn't remember much of last night except a strong desire to attempt to drink herself into oblivion. Well, it seemed as if her efforts had been successful.
She remembered challenging Alec, who had been looking miserable, to a drinking contest. He'd accepted, and as they downed shot after shot a crowd had gathered to egg them on. She'd lost count around the thirty-five or forty mark. She wondered who had picked up the tab, 'cause it must have been huge.
Cracking open her eyes, she took in the fact that she was in her and Logan's apartment. Sprawled in the hallway on her stomach.
"Logan?" Her half groaned, half grunted cry sounded lonely, and there was no answering noises. No call, no footsteps, nothing. Logan wasn't there.
She turned her head and saw a shattered glass vase. *Huh?* Slowly climbing to her feet, with much aid from the walls, she tried vainly to remember what had happened the previous night.
No luck. She sighed. As much as she desperately wanted to call in sick, she knew she couldn't. Normal would crucify her. Not that she could figure out why he even gave her her old job back, but such were the mysteries of life. Unsteadily making her way into the bedroom, she found fresh clothes to wear, and proceeded to ready herself for a day of work.
~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~
"I didn't think you'd be able to make it in today." Sketchy greeted Alec with a big grin. "I knew you had a speedy metabolism, but, man, I didn't think you could drink Hummer out of shots and still be walking around."
"Depends on your definition of 'walking around.'" Alec moved past Sketchy to his locker, dumping his things and pulling on his riding gloves. "That is the last time I'm ever getting drunk. Once is plenty enough. How can you stand it?"
Sketchy gaped at him. "You've never been drunk before? Ever?"
"Not once." Alec confirmed. "It wasn't exactly encouraged at Manticore, and we never had enough booze at T.C., otherwise there would have been lots of drunk transgenics there."
"But... not once?"
"Yeah, Sketch." Alec grinned slowly. I wonder how Max is doing. I doubt she's ever been drunk before either."
"Max is fine, thank you." A sharp tone came from behind him. Turning, he saw Max, looking worse for wear. She was obviously thinking the same thing about him. "You look horrible." She said.
"Why thank you Maxie, your generous word hearten me."
She smacked him on the shoulder, but her heart didn't seem to be in it. "What's the matter?" he asked, suddenly serious.
"Nothing." Max sighed. "It's just, Logan wasn't... well, he wasn't home this morning. I don't know where he is."
"He'll be back. He always is." Alec laid a hand on Max's shoulder, uncertain how to comfort her in her damaged relationship.
"Yeah." Max didn't seem convinced.
"Hello Boo's. Ain't it a beautiful morning?" OC's voice filled the awkward silence.
"Well, aren't we cheerful this morning." Alec seemed glad to change the subject. He glanced back at Max once more before turning to greet Cindy. "Had a good night last night, I take it." He winked at Cindy, who looked primly back.
"Not that it's any of yo business." Despite her words, Cindy was doing an excellent impression of a cat who has stolen the cream. "But yes, we had a good night."
"We can tell. Have good stamina do you?" Sketchy received a smack for his remark, and he quickly retreated to earn some pay. Normal was preferable to OC's wrath.
Unnoticed by OC, Alec or Sketch, Max had slipped away during Cindy's entrance. She headed to the dispatch desk, collecting a few packages from Normal before shoving them into her bag and gathering up her bike. Distracted, Max nearly ran over a young woman who was entering Jam Pony just as she was leaving.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I... " Max trailed off as she helped the woman to her feet. She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it.
"Rachel?"
~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~
So, how many expected that? Did I get you? *giggle* this plot bunny has been hopping around my head for a while now, I just didn't have the confidence to actually try it. The M/L one has been too, and I promise more M/L stuff later, but I want to get into the Alec storyline a bit more first.
And for a sidenote, I actually don't ship much of anything, but I figured I would try my hand at it, it couldn't hurt.
~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~
Chapter 3: Ghost
"Ung-huuu..." His incoherent groan faded as he woke, slowly and oh-so painfully. Transgenics, contrary to popular belief, could get drunk. It just took a hell of a lot more effort – and alcohol.
"Mental note to self. Never do that again." Alec cracked open his eyes, the faint light stabbing into his ultra sensitive eyes. His first – and only, he promised himself grimly – drunk experience had been unpleasant to say the least. The last thing he remembered was picking a fight with a guy twice his size. Looking down his partially clothed body and taking in the fact that he really wasn't very bruised at all, he assumed the other guy was lying in a gutter somewhere wondering what he'd done to deserve it. *At least I'm in my apartment.* Sitting up slowly, he took in his sprawl across his couch. Part of his couch. He began looking for his clothes. Unable to locate his shirt, jacket or shoes, he decided that he would just have to suck it up and attempt to stand.
Flash of memory then.
Max? She had said something about a contest, and he'd agreed. There had been a crowd? He groaned again when he remembered the crowd that had gathered to watch the transgenic's drinking contest.
"You have got to be kidding me. Ugh." Now that he was on his feet, he noticed something that would not have normally been considered odd, but in light of the current situation, was.
"Hello?" His voice reverberated through his apartment, but there was no answer. He gingerly picked up the lacy black bra that was lying next to his couch, not because he was embarrassed about touching it, he figured he'd probably been the one to remove it from it's owner in the first place, but because his head was pounding fiercely.
"Hello?" he called again, wincing at the sound of a car horn down the street. Slowly he wandered to his bedroom. Empty. Bathroom. Empty. Kitchen? No, that was empty too. "Huh. Musta left."
Dropping the bra and deciding that he didn't feel brave enough for food, he made his way back to his bedroom. Rummaging in the mess on the floor, he found a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt. He still had his wallet, which was also still moderately full, and he wondered vaguely if he'd paid his tab. *Not that it matters much. I can always pay tonight.*
He planned on drinking again tonight at Crash, just not getting drunk again. *How can Sketchy stand it?*
Collecting his bag and gloves and retrieving his keys, Alec headed out his door and on to work.
~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~
Max groaned, in much the same fashion that Alec was doing around the same time. She didn't remember much of last night except a strong desire to attempt to drink herself into oblivion. Well, it seemed as if her efforts had been successful.
She remembered challenging Alec, who had been looking miserable, to a drinking contest. He'd accepted, and as they downed shot after shot a crowd had gathered to egg them on. She'd lost count around the thirty-five or forty mark. She wondered who had picked up the tab, 'cause it must have been huge.
Cracking open her eyes, she took in the fact that she was in her and Logan's apartment. Sprawled in the hallway on her stomach.
"Logan?" Her half groaned, half grunted cry sounded lonely, and there was no answering noises. No call, no footsteps, nothing. Logan wasn't there.
She turned her head and saw a shattered glass vase. *Huh?* Slowly climbing to her feet, with much aid from the walls, she tried vainly to remember what had happened the previous night.
No luck. She sighed. As much as she desperately wanted to call in sick, she knew she couldn't. Normal would crucify her. Not that she could figure out why he even gave her her old job back, but such were the mysteries of life. Unsteadily making her way into the bedroom, she found fresh clothes to wear, and proceeded to ready herself for a day of work.
~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~
"I didn't think you'd be able to make it in today." Sketchy greeted Alec with a big grin. "I knew you had a speedy metabolism, but, man, I didn't think you could drink Hummer out of shots and still be walking around."
"Depends on your definition of 'walking around.'" Alec moved past Sketchy to his locker, dumping his things and pulling on his riding gloves. "That is the last time I'm ever getting drunk. Once is plenty enough. How can you stand it?"
Sketchy gaped at him. "You've never been drunk before? Ever?"
"Not once." Alec confirmed. "It wasn't exactly encouraged at Manticore, and we never had enough booze at T.C., otherwise there would have been lots of drunk transgenics there."
"But... not once?"
"Yeah, Sketch." Alec grinned slowly. I wonder how Max is doing. I doubt she's ever been drunk before either."
"Max is fine, thank you." A sharp tone came from behind him. Turning, he saw Max, looking worse for wear. She was obviously thinking the same thing about him. "You look horrible." She said.
"Why thank you Maxie, your generous word hearten me."
She smacked him on the shoulder, but her heart didn't seem to be in it. "What's the matter?" he asked, suddenly serious.
"Nothing." Max sighed. "It's just, Logan wasn't... well, he wasn't home this morning. I don't know where he is."
"He'll be back. He always is." Alec laid a hand on Max's shoulder, uncertain how to comfort her in her damaged relationship.
"Yeah." Max didn't seem convinced.
"Hello Boo's. Ain't it a beautiful morning?" OC's voice filled the awkward silence.
"Well, aren't we cheerful this morning." Alec seemed glad to change the subject. He glanced back at Max once more before turning to greet Cindy. "Had a good night last night, I take it." He winked at Cindy, who looked primly back.
"Not that it's any of yo business." Despite her words, Cindy was doing an excellent impression of a cat who has stolen the cream. "But yes, we had a good night."
"We can tell. Have good stamina do you?" Sketchy received a smack for his remark, and he quickly retreated to earn some pay. Normal was preferable to OC's wrath.
Unnoticed by OC, Alec or Sketch, Max had slipped away during Cindy's entrance. She headed to the dispatch desk, collecting a few packages from Normal before shoving them into her bag and gathering up her bike. Distracted, Max nearly ran over a young woman who was entering Jam Pony just as she was leaving.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I... " Max trailed off as she helped the woman to her feet. She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it.
"Rachel?"
~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~
So, how many expected that? Did I get you? *giggle* this plot bunny has been hopping around my head for a while now, I just didn't have the confidence to actually try it. The M/L one has been too, and I promise more M/L stuff later, but I want to get into the Alec storyline a bit more first.
And for a sidenote, I actually don't ship much of anything, but I figured I would try my hand at it, it couldn't hurt.