Chapter 2
A/N: This was going to be a one shot deal but after a reviewer put some ideas in my head, it kind of wrote itself.
Alec flopped back onto his bed and sighed deeply. He threw one arm over his eyes and groaned at the memory of his day. It had started bright and early with him walking into his bathroom that he shared with Max and seeing a small makeup case on his sink with a note in Original Cindy's handwriting.
Alec-
After seeing the pictures Max showed me we decided you are really more of a fall boo than a winter. These colors should bring out your eyes more.
OC
Alec had wanted to smash the little case into the wall. He showered quickly as cold water was not his thing and got out only to find his blue towel gone and a pink one in its place. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into the living room. Max was not home, this wasn't unusual, however it would have been nice to "thank" her properly.
He yanked his closet open to find his clothes and shoes gone. However, there were tank tops, miniskirts, and heels, not to mention a dress that looked suspiciously like it belonged in a wedding replacing his clothes.
Alec slammed the door and walked into the hall mumbling "Ha-ha very funny. Max is so dead." He banged on Biggs' door and pushed past his friend when he answered. He marched into Biggs closet and angrily grabbed a shirt and jeans. Next he took Biggs' sneakers and was pulling them on when Biggs' asked "Dude, don't you have your own clothes?"
Alec shot him a death glare. "NO, I don't have MY clothes because MAX decided to help me dress from now on." Then without warning, Alec punched Biggs in the face.
"Damn Alec what was that for?" Biggs whined holding his face.
"It's not 200 hundred, but it's a start." He said darkly. Without another word he walked out and marched to the command center.
When he got there he immediately wanted to open the gates to TC and hand the keys to Ames White himself.
There were pictures everywhere. Some of them were when he had leaned over the good Senator's car and was in a very compromising situation. And to make it all better the moment he stepped in the door people who had been laughing turned to look at him and laugh even more. Then he heard it. His conversation with the Senator was playing over the loudspeakers. He turned to Dix who winced and said "I had to they were going to make us cook for a month."
He didn't need to ask who she was. He walked by everyone to his office, pretending that it wasn't his voice speaking falsetto and bargaining with the Senator for "a good time". He grabbed his mug from his desk and filled it with coffee. He turned to see Mole laughing through the doorway. He looked down to see his Rambo mug had been replaced by one with the Mrs. Webster's dictionary declaring that high heels were created by a man and were made to torture lawns.
He sighed, then decided today couldn't get much worse he drank deeply wishing that his coffee was a bit Irish this morning.
Lunch…
Alec had hid in his office all day and now ventured out for lunch. Between command and the lunch all he had received comments from both male and female alike.
"Really Alec twenty bucks? That's only enough to buy a gallon of gas let alone a piece of.."
"Honey, you sold yourself short, really take my word for it." This was from Sierra, or was it Ticee, hmm he would have to look her up later.
"Dude, I don't care what they teach you in Manticore, they would have had to put me in isolation for months before I would have put that on." That was Mark. He'd have to remind him exactly why 494 had been the top soldier at Mantiore.
Having had enough ribbing, he took his food to go and sat on his bed shoveling in food quickly. He was supposed to oversee this afternoon's cleanup crew on Pine Street and he didn't want to be late. He finished quickly and stood to retrieve his shoes.
"Damn it! What the HELL!" he looked down to see what he had stepped on.
It was an earring.
……..
After Alec had spent six hours cleaning out another building he had flopped himself into his present position too tired to do anything else. His back and feet were killing him.
Worse yet, his legs itched like hell with razor burn.
