Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters within this fiction are the property of Cameron/ Eglee. I just like to play with them.
Timeline: Six weeks after FN.
Pairing M/A
Summary: An unexpected accident causes Max to think about the future in a new way.
Chapter Seventeen
The Simple Pleasures
"Oh argh!" Max growled as she threw another pair of pants on the bed. She’d nearly ransacked her closet, pulling out the clothes she’d managed to collect since moving to Terminal City. But still, she’d yet to find something that screamed date-worthy. She flipped through the remaining clothes, pitifully few though they were. She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, biting her lip in annoyance. It was almost six. Alec had said that their reservations were for seven. She was all showered and pretty ready, but for the clothes. And of course, she couldn’t put on any make-up until she had picked the clothes. And her hair would need another brushing.
Her hand reached for a green blouse, one that she didn’t remember getting, but knowing that she had definitely picked it. The style was just, so her. But no, Alec, man that he was, had just grabbed something fairly comfortable and thrown it on. It being black slacks and a dark blue button up shirt. So she couldn’t wear green. This shade would clash. ‘God, when did I become so girly?’ she angrily asked herself. She was almost longing for the day when she would just pull on the first clean thing she came upon and be on her merry way. ‘You became all girly when Alec finally showed you what it felt like to be a woman instead of just another broken toy,’ her mind answered. She smiled then, but soon her dilemma caught her up again.
She pulled out a leather skirt; similar to one she’d had before. Okay, skirt, she could work with that. She pulled it up her legs and over her hips. She zipped it up and grunted. Ooh, a little tight. Max frowned and turned sideways to look in the full-length mirror. Hmm, she must have put a few pounds on since she’d worn it last. Although she liked her clothes tight, she didn’t like them binding. ‘Oh hell. I probably wore the thing once and then never again. I’m not exactly a skirt person,’ she decided. She unzipped it, breathing a small sigh of relief. It was probably Alec’s cooking that had done her in. She threw the useless fabric onto the pile on the bed and let out another aggrieved growl.
"Problems?" Alec called from the outer room. Max rolled her eyes as she sent hangers sliding across the metal rail of the closet. Her hands encountered the dry-cleaning bag that she was sure held her wedding dress. Wouldn’t Alec be shocked if she wore that on their date? She giggled a little at the thought, staring at the bag with longing. And then another thought occurred to her.
"Alec?" she called. "What did I wear on our first date?" Knowing them, they’d probably gone to Crash and drank beer and played pool. She tilted her head to the side as she moved to push the wedding dress out of the way, she realized that there were two hangers in the bag, not one, as she would have thought. Quickly, she unzipped the bag, and smiled.
"What was that?" Alec called back.
"Never mind!" she offered, pulling out the outfit she’d found. It didn’t take long to pull on the silky length of skirt. She smoothed a hand over the peach material, with the scattered, dark red rose pattern, then turned to pull on the matching peach sweater. It fit perfectly and Max felt a twinge of recognition, as if she’d stood in this exact position before, wearing these clothes. Which she wrote off with ease. They were her clothes. This was her room. It was only natural that she’d worn them before.
She sat down and quickly applied a light foundation, sparingly used for a number of reasons. The main reason that with her natural complexion, she really didn’t need it. But tonight she wanted to feel special, to make the whole evening memorable. And that meant feeling pampered. She quickly applied some mascara, for just a hint of dark lashes, some lip-gloss, arranged her hair and was ready to face her husband.
Alec was leaning against the kitchen counter when she made her entrance. Max watched as his eyes lit upon her and began to sparkle. He moistened his lips, his mouth opening to make some comment. But he stopped and his mouth snapped shut.
"What is it?" she demanded softly.
"Your clothes," he murmured. She glanced down at herself.
"Oh yeah," she chuckled. "I just saw it in the closet. And well, it looked kind of datey. You know, with the roses and all…" she trailed off as she plucked at a non-existent thread and then brushed her hand once more over her thigh.
"Yeah, that…" Alec cleared his throat and stood up straighter. "That’s what you wore on our first official date." Max felt a slow smile spread across her face.
"You know," she whispered as she moved forward to stand before him. "I kind of had this flash. Like I had done this all before. I guess, well since I have done it before, it makes sense now."
"That’s good," Alec murmured back, his hand reaching for her waist. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," she smiled. He took her hand and pulled her to the door. Max was about to reach for her jacket, but Alec was quicker, holding it out for her to slip on, sliding easily into the role of gentleman. Or maybe it wasn’t a role. Max wondered briefly about it. All these little things that Alec did for her, things she yearned to do for him. Normal people would call them courtesies. But Max was beginning to figure out that it all stemmed from love. In wanting to make the person you adored happy. Doing simple things, just to see a smile on his or her face. Of course, that didn’t explain her tendency to smack him when he’d ticked her off. ‘That was just foreplay, m’dear,’ the little voice in her head chuckled.
Alec pulled on his own coat and zipped it halfway before taking her hand again. "We should get going," he announced genially. "We still have to walk down to the car."
"Where exactly are we going?" Max asked for the first time. Thinking of their first date earlier made her wonder, again about this evening.
"I thought we’d go out to dinner and see what happens then," Alec replied as the moved down the stairs. "And before you ask, no I am not trying to recreate our first date." Her mouth snapped shut with a grin. He could read her so well.
"Why not?" she asked pertly. Alec wrapped his arm about her as they transversed the last flight.
"Because," he sighed, "I don’t think it’s fair to either of us for me to set something up like that and get my hopes up about you remembering it. Cause if that didn’t happen, I’d be disappointed. And then you’d be disappointed and neither of us would be happy."
"Yeah," Max groaned. "That’d be us."
"So instead," Alec whispered in her ear, "I want to take my darling wife out for dinner. Talk about our day. Maybe go dancing and just enjoy us in general. That okay?"
"It sounds perfect," she sighed dreamily.
*****
They arrived just in time for their reservation. Alec had come around the car and helped her out. Max was vaguely surprised to see they had arrived at one of the poshier restaurants in the Pulse devastated city. They swept in, the doorman holding the door for them. Alec took their coats to the coat check and returned to escort her to the maitre d’.
"Reservation for MacDowell," Alec spoke in low tones. The officious looking man smiled tightly, as if his face would crack if his mouth moved.
"Certainly Mr. MacDowell," he intoned. He pulled two menus from his little stand and turned to gesture discreetly at a young lady. "Marie," he offered to the young woman as she took the menus, "table eight please." She nodded and he turned back to the couple. "Enjoy your evening."
"Thank you," Max nodded as they followed the waitress, "we will."
Alec held her chair for her and Marie waited until he was seated before placing their menus before them. She described to them the choices from the bar, then asked Alec if he wished for a wine list. Alec nodded and she went off to retrieve it. Max took in her surroundings as she’d been trained early in life to do. The soft tinkling sound of other diners filled her ear amid the swelling murmur of conversation. Across from them, there was an area for dancing; a band set on a dais, playing the nouveau jazzy sounding movements that appealed to today’s snobs. She grinned to herself as she imagined herself and Alec out among the sparse crowd making use of the amenity. But before she could make a comment about it, Marie had returned. As Alec perused the list, Max picked up her menu, but still studied the restaurant.
The décor was what she had expected. Soft colors to accentuate the romantic image. Chandeliers strategically placed to illuminate rather than glare. The air was mildly warm, heated more by the bodies in it than by a heating system. Max shivered unconsciously. It did feel familiar to her. But not in a good way. Not surprisingly, it reminded her of Logan’s penthouse apartment at Fogle Towers and of the many evenings they’d spent their, drinking wine and eating pasta. Max shook her head, trembling a little.
"Max?" Alec’s voice brought her back to the present. "Is that okay with you?" She glanced up and widened her eyes. He chuckled when he realized she hadn’t been paying attention. "The wine?" he clarified.
"Ah, actually," she scrambled about a bit verbally. "I don’t think I care for any tonight." She injected a note of apology in her tone, but Alec didn’t take offense. He turned to look up at Marie as he handed the list back.
"So just one carafe of the white then," he nodded. She smiled and turned to Max.
"And what would you like madam?" she asked gently, not offended at all by Max’s choice. "We have juice, sparkling water, an assortment of teas…" she trailed off as she let Max mull it over.
"Oh, some juice sounds good," Max sighed. Lately it had seemed like she was thirsty for the sweet nectar at odd hours.
"We have freshly squeezed orange, apple or white grape juice," Marie offered.
"Grape please," Max finally decided, amused. It seemed the richer you were, the more choice you got. Something she’d learned quickly in her life and had never really forgotten. Marie nodded and left the table again. She returned with their choices and left them to deliberate over their meal. Max scanned the list, deciding that she was in the mood for anything. Except pasta that was.
"So what do you want?" Alec asked with a teasing smirk as her eyes flickered between two choices.
"Ooh, I don’t know," Max whined. "It all looks so good." She glanced up. "I’m deliberating between the chicken and the salmon." Alec leaned back and shrugged.
"So order them both," he suggested with a twinkle.
"Alec!" she protested softly. "That’d make me look like a pig!"
"No it wouldn’t," he chuckled. Then waved a hand dismissively. "Order anything you’d like Max. Just don’t order, you know, everything on the menu. I can afford a lot, but not that."
Max’s eyes widened as she took in the implication. She shut her menu and leaned across the table to whisper conspiratorially. "Alec, are we rich?"
Alec opened his mouth, no doubt intending to make a smart remark, but just as quickly remembered the validity in her asking. He leaned forward as well. "Yeah," he nodded. "Not millionaires by any lengths. But I mean we own stock in all of the fastest growing businesses in Seattle, hell on the western seaboard. Not to mention our cut of the profits of Terminal City."
"Oh," she murmured, sitting back, her eyes wide.
"And you always chewed me out for my money making skills," he chuckled.
"Those weren’t skills," Max retorted. "Those were scams."
"Yeah, but you can’t deny that I was making money off them." Max settled for mock glaring at him, as she couldn’t refute that statement. Marie returned then to take their order. Max settled on the salmon and rice pilaf, while Alec chose the chicken, letting her know with a wink that he was amenable to sharing. After Marie wandered away again, he pushed back his chair and stood, moving around the table to her side. He held out his hand and smiled down at her.
"Dance with me?" he asked simply and Max was out of her chair before he could finish. He led her to the dance floor and she slid into his arms as if she’d done so many times before. She let her eyes drift shut as Alec pulled her in close, pressing her head into the crook of his shoulder. One hand rested about her waist as he tucked her hand he clasped loosely against his chest. Her free hand pressed against his broad back as he circled her slowly but expertly around the floor. She let her eyes stay closed, certain that he wouldn’t let her stumble.
"This feels so good," she murmured as the song changed, still just as slow as the others preceding it did.
"It does, doesn’t it?" Alec chuckled, the sound rumbling in her ear.
"I’m glad I made you take dance lessons," she chuckled into his shirt. But he paused so suddenly that Max yanked her head up to see what was wrong. Alec was staring down at her strangely.
"You remember that?" he demanded quietly. Max’s eyes widened as she realized that the thought had just slipped out. And the brief flash served her well. She’d protested that Alec’s skills on the dance floor were not appropriate for their wedding. And after much begging and cajoling, had gotten him to agree to a few classical ballroom dancing lessons. He’d caught on quickly, as was expected.
"Yeah," she tilted her head to the side. "You sound surprised."
"Well excuse me," he drawled, exaggerating the sound. "Here’s me just getting used to the fact that you don’t remember and then you pull this on me."
"It’s not like I planned it Alec," she chastised gently. "That’s just the way it happens." She caught the mild look of disapproval from the other dancers and deliberately swayed her hips against his. Alec took the hint and they began to move about the floor again absently.
"Really?" he asked, his mind working rapidly. She nodded.
"Mm hmm. I’ll just be going about my business and all of a sudden the knowledge is there."
"I’m sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I just really don’t know how to handle this."
"It’s okay," she sighed. She understood, as she hadn’t much idea what else to do besides what they were doing. "I guess, just assume I know nothing."
"That won’t be hard," he joked. Max would have pulled away, but for the teasing she heard.
"But also know that I am eventually going to figure it out," she warned playfully. "So if you have any big bad secrets, you better think about fessing up." She’d meant it to be a joke, but the way he stiffened, she knew she’d hit a nerve. "Alec, what…?"
"Not tonight Maxie," he muttered, trying to entice her back to the dance. She allowed him to move her about, but was worried. He had a secret? She couldn’t help but give voice to the nagging sensation in the back of her mind. Alec sighed and led her back to the table.
"What’s the secret Alec?" she demanded quietly once he’d taken his seat. He stared at her from across the table, his features even, tinged with sadness. Max felt her heart speed up. What on earth could make him look like that?
"It’s not a secret Max," he offered. "At least not the way you mean it. It’s something we both knew about that happened fairly recently. It just… I just don’t want to think about it tonight. Can we do that please?" When he looked at her like that, Max felt herself melting under the intensity of his gaze. She bit her lip and then slowly nodded. "Trust me Max, when you remember, we’ll deal with it. We did before, we will again."
"Okay," she whispered around the lump in her throat. He picked up her hand, caressing the soft skin of her inner wrist. Before he could say more, their dinner arrived.
*****
Dinner had been delicious. Max expected no less. Things had been awkward for a little bit, but then Alec had asked how her first full day back in the war zone was and they found themselves laughing over the antics and happenings of the inhabitants of their prospering community. After dinner, they’d shared one more dance and then Alec had escorted her out to the car. She was feeling drowsy and sated after the rich food and sinfully delicious triple chocolate cake she’d indulged in. So it was with great surprise when the car pulled to a halt that she looked up and instead of finding themselves at the outskirts of TC, were instead at the Space Needle.
"What are we doing here?" she asked suspiciously. Alec turned in his seat to face her.
"We haven’t come here for a long time now," he shrugged. "And I know you like it up there. I thought we could take a walk up and enjoy the view." Max inhaled deeply. How did he always know just what she needed? Oh yeah, from paying attention to her and her habits. She smiled shyly and nodded. Alec perked up a little more at the look on her face and turned completely to rummage around in the back seat.
"What are you doing?"
"Just getting a little something," he grunted. He sat back, holding a thick blanket. At her questioning glance he shrugged. "It’ll be chilly up there." Max shook her head at his thoughtfulness and opened her car door. She met Alec on the sidewalk after he’d locked the doors and together they made their way up to the pinnacle of useless pre-Pulse tourist sites.
Once at the top, Alec laid out the blanket and pulled Max down upon it. He leaned back; bracing himself on his hands as Max settled herself between his legs, leaning back against his chest. The city was laid bare before them, twinkling lights from both man-made sources and the moon glowing above them. There was a slight breeze, playing at Max’s hair, but it didn’t bother them.
"This is great," Max enthused. "Nothing has changed up here."
"No, I guess it hasn’t," Alec agreed with her. "You can’t really expect it to."
"It’s not that," she denied. "I mean, this place, it’s permanent. I come up here and the whole city is there for me to lose myself in. Right now especially, I like having something permanent, you know?"
"Yeah."
"Permanent things make me happy," she went on, feeling the tension in his body. "Original Cindy, Joshua, the Needle…you." She whispered the last, glancing up at him. Alec’s eyes softened as he opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by a persistent ring emanating from his coat pocket.
"Hold that thought," he groused as he retrieved the cell phone. Max would have protested, but she kept silent, knowing that it could be any number of things. "Hello?" Max snuggled in closer as his free arm wrapped around her again. "Oh hey Logan, buddy! What’s up?" Her eyes shot open and she tried not to tense up. She bit her lip in frustration as she only heard his end of the conversation, which consisted mostly of softly grunted "uh huhs." Finally though, he hung up the phone. And didn’t seem perturbed at all. When the hell had Logan and Alec gotten to friendly terms?
"So what was that about?" she demanded impatiently. Alec slipped his phone back in his pocket and cuddled her close once more.
"Not much," he shrugged. "Logan was just calling to let us know that Asha can’t make it to the party."
"Oh," she whispered. Although it shouldn’t have surprised her that those two were together.
"See, you don’t remember but Asha is pregnant," he went on, seemingly oblivious to her sudden quiet. "And she’s been having difficulties. So apparently her doctor ordered bed rest for the last month."
"Oh," she muttered again. Asha was pregnant? Again, natural course of events, she shouldn’t have been surprised. "T-that’s too bad. That Asha and Logan won’t be able to make it, I mean." Alec stared down at her strangely.
"What do you mean?" he grimaced. "Of course Logan is coming." Her eyebrows shot up. That wasn’t at all like the Logan she knew, to desert his wife and coming child to go party with a bunch of freaks. Then understanding dawned in his eyes. "Oh no sweetie, you got it wrong."
"I did?"
"Yeah, Logan and Asha are not a thing," he chuckled. "Asha married a sector cop last year." Max was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. Alec laughed as well. "Yeah I know, strange huh? But Rob’s a really nice guy."
"Okay," Max finally wheezed. "So Logan is coming?"
"Yeah," Alec pursed his lips, as if debating the information on the tip of his tongue.
"Go ahead, spit it out," Max urged. "I know you want to."
"Well, he’s bringing a date."
"Oh, anyone I know?" she asked with the mildest interest. He nodded. "So who is it?"
"Well," he hedged, "I don’t know when you met her, so you might not remember her now."
"Her name Alec?"
"Daphne."
Chapter Eighteen
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