Genetics - 7/8
Title: Genetics 7/8
Author: Claire
Fandom: Dark Angel
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Max/Alec, set post transgenic conflict - Manticore left one last little present.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
And just like that, the game changed. Playful thumps would hesitate at the last minute, before connecting. Biting retorts would never quite make it from the tip of the tongue.
It wasn’t that either of them wanted the change, but suddenly they were painfully aware of the undertone in everything they did. An alternate interpretation that made this awkward and them hyper-aware of their actions and words.
“Oh will you chill already?” Cindy demanded, as Max slammed her locked door shut, then kicked the one underneath it for good measure. “How long befo’ this thing kicks in and you and yo’ boy can get jiggy wit’ it and stop wiggin’?”
“Three days,” Max muttered, headbutting the locker and then regretting it. “I can’t take this for three more days.” She paused, as a sudden, horrific realisation occurred to her. “What if this doesn’t end after we… y’know…”
“Screw like bunnies?” Cindy offered dryly.
“Yeah, that,” Max said, her lip curling in slight distaste at the phrasing, then in distaste at her distaste. “What if it stays… y’know, weird?”
“Then y’all had better keep screwin’ until it ain’t,” Cindy told her, standing and swinging her rucksack onto her back. “Because I can’t take much mo’ o’ this either.”
-----
Two days to go until Alec could be free of Max haunting his every waking moment, and a good deal of his sleeping ones. He was getting jumpy around her, every sound she made, every accidental touch, every brief whiff of her scent was causing him agony.
He’d taken time off work, hoping to get away from it and get himself together. But her scent was everywhere in his apartment as well, even though he’d washed his sheets a thousand times since she’d last been there. It was still on him. The camphor oil wasn’t helping - he was so anxious all his senses were on full alert and every nerve was twanging.
He was on his sixth set of press-ups in the last hour in an attempt to exhaust himself, but some parts of his body were just not taking the hint. Rolling onto his back, he let out a heavy sigh.
The worst part was not knowing how things would go once everything was fixed. Now that they ‘sort of liked’ each other, would they be ‘together’? Or would they just keep on as they had before… maybe with sex every so often. Or maybe ‘sort of liked’ wouldn’t be enough for either of them.
Grunting, Alec heaved himself upright and headed into the bathroom for another cold shower.
-----
One day to go and Max was having her own personal day, spending it on her bike, going as fast as she could to nowhere in particular. The feeling of the bike between her legs wasn’t really helping to distract her as much as she had liked.
Would it be another case of ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ tomorrow? Was that what she wanted? Was it what Alec really wanted? He didn’t seem like the type to cuddle, even if he wasn’t being forced into sex. Mind you, she wasn’t exactly the type to cuddle either, but she got the feeling that if anything had ever happened between her and Logan, then she probably would have become the cuddly type.
Would it be like that with her and Alec? It didn’t seem like it so far. Nothing was the same. Maybe Logan was right, maybe different was what she needed.
But different meant so many questions. Everything with Logan had just sort of eased into place. Nothing was easing here. It was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
-----
It took a lot of effort for Max to go round to Alec’s apartment the next day, and even more effort for her to open the door and go inside. She shut the door quietly behind her, turned to face the room, and froze, stunned.
The room was candlelit - mismatched candles, clearly gathered hastily and at random were placed in strategic places around the room. There was an open bottle of wine on the table, and the smells of something like spaghetti coming from the kitchen.
“What the hell is all this?” she demanded, as Alec wandered out of the kitchen with two plates piled high with food.
“What?” he asked lightly, setting the meal down on the table. “This?”
“Yes, this!” Max waved her hand at the room. “What are you trying to do?”
Alec looked awkward.
“I thought you might wanna be, I dunno, romanced a bit?” he offered. “Like Logan did, since, y’know, you like me now.”
“Oh no,” said Max. “No. No no no. I can’t do this.”
“What? You can’t chicken out now, Max!” Alec moved towards her as she backed towards the door, face torn between horror and outrage.
“I can’t do this,” she said again. “The-the candles and the wine and the food? No. That’s not what this is. This thing? With us? We don’t wine and dine. We don’t have candles.”
“So what?” Alec snapped. “We just screw? We try and kill each other while we fuck? That’s the way you want it, Maxie? Because I’m sick of that!”
“I don’t know!” Max snapped back. “I don’t know what we do! Okay? Is that what you want to hear?” She ran her hand through her hair irritably, looking lost. “I don’t know what this is or where we are. But this,” she said, and gestured at the room. “Isn’t it. This isn’t the same as Logan and me, and I don’t know what to do!”
Alec reached for her but she pulled back.
“No!” she said. “Just… No.”
Turning, she made to grab the door handle, but Alec managed to catch her wrist and pulled her to face him.
“Believe it or not, Maxie, that’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her like he had the night she’d asked him to.
-----
Author: Claire
Fandom: Dark Angel
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Max/Alec, set post transgenic conflict - Manticore left one last little present.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
And just like that, the game changed. Playful thumps would hesitate at the last minute, before connecting. Biting retorts would never quite make it from the tip of the tongue.
It wasn’t that either of them wanted the change, but suddenly they were painfully aware of the undertone in everything they did. An alternate interpretation that made this awkward and them hyper-aware of their actions and words.
“Oh will you chill already?” Cindy demanded, as Max slammed her locked door shut, then kicked the one underneath it for good measure. “How long befo’ this thing kicks in and you and yo’ boy can get jiggy wit’ it and stop wiggin’?”
“Three days,” Max muttered, headbutting the locker and then regretting it. “I can’t take this for three more days.” She paused, as a sudden, horrific realisation occurred to her. “What if this doesn’t end after we… y’know…”
“Screw like bunnies?” Cindy offered dryly.
“Yeah, that,” Max said, her lip curling in slight distaste at the phrasing, then in distaste at her distaste. “What if it stays… y’know, weird?”
“Then y’all had better keep screwin’ until it ain’t,” Cindy told her, standing and swinging her rucksack onto her back. “Because I can’t take much mo’ o’ this either.”
-----
Two days to go until Alec could be free of Max haunting his every waking moment, and a good deal of his sleeping ones. He was getting jumpy around her, every sound she made, every accidental touch, every brief whiff of her scent was causing him agony.
He’d taken time off work, hoping to get away from it and get himself together. But her scent was everywhere in his apartment as well, even though he’d washed his sheets a thousand times since she’d last been there. It was still on him. The camphor oil wasn’t helping - he was so anxious all his senses were on full alert and every nerve was twanging.
He was on his sixth set of press-ups in the last hour in an attempt to exhaust himself, but some parts of his body were just not taking the hint. Rolling onto his back, he let out a heavy sigh.
The worst part was not knowing how things would go once everything was fixed. Now that they ‘sort of liked’ each other, would they be ‘together’? Or would they just keep on as they had before… maybe with sex every so often. Or maybe ‘sort of liked’ wouldn’t be enough for either of them.
Grunting, Alec heaved himself upright and headed into the bathroom for another cold shower.
-----
One day to go and Max was having her own personal day, spending it on her bike, going as fast as she could to nowhere in particular. The feeling of the bike between her legs wasn’t really helping to distract her as much as she had liked.
Would it be another case of ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ tomorrow? Was that what she wanted? Was it what Alec really wanted? He didn’t seem like the type to cuddle, even if he wasn’t being forced into sex. Mind you, she wasn’t exactly the type to cuddle either, but she got the feeling that if anything had ever happened between her and Logan, then she probably would have become the cuddly type.
Would it be like that with her and Alec? It didn’t seem like it so far. Nothing was the same. Maybe Logan was right, maybe different was what she needed.
But different meant so many questions. Everything with Logan had just sort of eased into place. Nothing was easing here. It was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
-----
It took a lot of effort for Max to go round to Alec’s apartment the next day, and even more effort for her to open the door and go inside. She shut the door quietly behind her, turned to face the room, and froze, stunned.
The room was candlelit - mismatched candles, clearly gathered hastily and at random were placed in strategic places around the room. There was an open bottle of wine on the table, and the smells of something like spaghetti coming from the kitchen.
“What the hell is all this?” she demanded, as Alec wandered out of the kitchen with two plates piled high with food.
“What?” he asked lightly, setting the meal down on the table. “This?”
“Yes, this!” Max waved her hand at the room. “What are you trying to do?”
Alec looked awkward.
“I thought you might wanna be, I dunno, romanced a bit?” he offered. “Like Logan did, since, y’know, you like me now.”
“Oh no,” said Max. “No. No no no. I can’t do this.”
“What? You can’t chicken out now, Max!” Alec moved towards her as she backed towards the door, face torn between horror and outrage.
“I can’t do this,” she said again. “The-the candles and the wine and the food? No. That’s not what this is. This thing? With us? We don’t wine and dine. We don’t have candles.”
“So what?” Alec snapped. “We just screw? We try and kill each other while we fuck? That’s the way you want it, Maxie? Because I’m sick of that!”
“I don’t know!” Max snapped back. “I don’t know what we do! Okay? Is that what you want to hear?” She ran her hand through her hair irritably, looking lost. “I don’t know what this is or where we are. But this,” she said, and gestured at the room. “Isn’t it. This isn’t the same as Logan and me, and I don’t know what to do!”
Alec reached for her but she pulled back.
“No!” she said. “Just… No.”
Turning, she made to grab the door handle, but Alec managed to catch her wrist and pulled her to face him.
“Believe it or not, Maxie, that’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her like he had the night she’d asked him to.
-----