DA Fic: With those lips (it'd be a waste) M/A
Title: With those lips (it'd be a waste)
Fandom: Dark Angel
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Pairing: Max/Alec
Genre: Fluff/Romance/Angst
Summary: Girl talk. Flirtation. Realisation. Response.
Notes: Set in late S2, some time between ‘Hello, Goodbye’ and ‘Love Among the Runes’ and then it goes off and becomes AU. Mild spoilers for the novelisation ‘Before the Dawn’. This can be read as a prequel for ‘Giveaway’, but equally, it doesn’t have to.
Big thanks to izabelevans and lusmeitli for the beta. All idiocies are my fault.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and I make no profit from this.
With those lips (it'd be a waste): shallowness
It was girls talk time at their table at Crash, and, jammed up between loud gossip and beer-aided confidences, Max was wishing she could swap places with CeCe right now. CeCe, who was far away in another sector, busy unpicking her way through a not-that-tough security system to get her hands on TC's latest Most Wanted supplies. The job had come up for an X5 with wheels; Max knew she could have taken it if she'd wanted to, but she’d wanted some down-time with OC more.
But that morning, she’d found out that OC had invited the new girl, Tressa, to come out to Crash with them.
“You’re trying to bribe her with beer to stick through her third day of the Jam Pony experience?” Max had snarked.
“OC’s being friendly to her fellow wage-slave, is all. Wuz a time when we were raw recruits.” OC had said, filling a bag with parcels.
“Sure, whatever. It’s cool.” Max had said. “Unless if Sketch invited himself.”
“Girls only.” OC tried for light. “But-“
“But?” Max had demanded. Life was life, and okay, Tressa’s presence meant she’d have to scrub away all mention of visits to sewers, cells and Terminal City. Didn’t mean she wanted to find out that OC was turning this into a party.
“But Lem was in hearin’ distance when OC suggested drinks.”
Max made a ho-hum face, couldn’t help it, “Urgh, it’s gonna be one of those nights.”
“Boo, if you walk into Crash with that attitude? Oh, yeah it will.”
So, here Max was, stuck in a conversation she really wanted out of, trying to contain the tell-tale wriggles that would tip off OC that she’d struggled with the attitude, but it wouldn’t slip off. But right now, OC was using beer and charm to get the low-down from the new blood. Tressa was tall and lithe, but straight as far as OC had been able to figure, and too new for Alec to do much with yet. He’d managed the first smiling introductions, worked the ‘accidental’ eye contact like a pro the past days, and Max was sure he'd get round to Tressa within the week. Just like he, and plenty of other of the Jam Pony guys, had got round to Lem, who was sharing about her experiences with Max, OC and Tressa...
...And right now she was on kisses. And that was why Max was squirming - she could tell that the table was set for a round of confessing. Circle of hell, more like.
Because really, what could she share? All her memories of Darren had been twisted by finding out he was a cheating dick. Other memories were twisted by pheromones that she couldn’t explain to strangers. And really, those kisses had always been about foreplay - if you took out the play and turned the fore into something fierce. Which left what she and Logan had had, and that was too deep to take out like a funny story or anecdote to show off to the people you work with.
"Max?" Lem asked. "Remembering some particular event?"
Max must have jumped, so she covered automatically with a nonchalant smile that worked on marks, cops and co-workers. Except OC, who must have thought that she needed to take the attention from her friend, her voice sounding loud to Max’s ears,
"If you're talkin' about a memorable kiss, the real - sizzlin’ - deal, we're talkin' about OC’s first kiss. Well, wasn't technically the first kiss, but up till then OC’d been wonderin' what the fuss about the whole kissin' dealio was. None of them had done nothing for me."
"Ohh, first girl-on-girl kiss?" Lem asked, leaning forward.
"Yup - she was one fine honey and-" Max let her breath out, absently fumbling with the zipper of her jacket as she followed the conversation, but mainly letting her mind wander - hadta love that transgenic multi-tasking ability.
Granted, she didn't want to be another Lem, who could have shared for a week about all the guys who’d ever made her moan. But this conversation, boisterous and bawdy now, between Lem and OC, and even Tressa's shy contributions, was making Max realize, sorely, that she hadn't had enough kissing in her life. It was like the conversations about childhood holidays or favorite toys, only worse, because she couldn't pin her lack of experience on Manticore.
Well, she could. Why not blame Manticore for screwing up her romantic options? Add in all that Seattle had to offer a revved up girl, and Max was always sure to come up short.
Most of her hook-ups had only come about because of her heat, and when that passed, and Max looked the guy over, she found out she blew cold, the guy found out she blew cold and there she was. Cold and alone, riding around Seattle, telling herself she didn't care. Didn’t care that it never worked out, didn’t care that her body forced her on a Rafe or a whoever. And yet, tonight was a night of memories, and Max remembered a time before she’d come to Seattle, a boy who was just a kid really, with a crush she hadn’t been able to dislodge. And the one time she'd just kissed him, on the cheek, for Fresca, it had been something wonderful. And Max wanted that wonder. Only she wanted it to be on the lips.
Not that she'd trade in her Queen Bitch persona, but dammit, sometimes she wanted the candles and the romance and some music to ease her down, back to a couch, eyes closed as a skilled mouth left her lips to kiss the arch of her neck and...
"Max? Max, you want more beer?" Tressa asked, her voice raised loud for her.
"Yeah, sure," Max said absently. Tressa left her chair smiling, not so much as OC and Lem, who were exchanging grins and looks.
"What?" she snapped.
"Boo, you wuz in dreamland. Tressa nearly lost her voice trying to get through to you."
"So, you going to share what you were remembering with us?” Lem asked. “Looked good."
That’d be the making-out session that never happened, Max thought sourly. She'd wanted it with Logan, for so long, and all she'd had were snatches. But she had to give some answer.
"Romantic," Max murmured. "Candle-lit out of choice, the right pace and the right pressure and-" Her voice trailed off. After all, it never really happened and why did it feel so past tense to be thinking about Logan?
"Sounds nice," OC said, responding to what Max had said out loud.
"And there's one who knows how to kiss," Lem interrupted, bored with the 'nice' and 'romantic' answer. Two heads jolted in the direction of her nod. The room-mates even timed their eye-rolling together. But Max had the better hearing to pick up on Alec’s gentlemanly offer to carry the damsel's pitcher.
To her credit, Tressa was standing up to his charm, "I'm good, this is nothing compared to some of the loads Normal’s had me delivering, you know." Only, as she spoke, she was smiling so much that Max was sure it had to hurt. And staring at Alec's lips thirstily, Max wondered, vicious like a knife throw, if Tressa'd ogle those lips if she knew they'd been deliberately shaped by science.
Alec was smiling back, acknowledging defeat on the offer, but making clear that that didn’t change his interest in Tressa. Making out there was a potential something between them. It was sick. Okay, so he knew how to use those lips, Max admitted, not noticing how she'd parted hers. How expectant she looked, which was why she had no idea why OC was elbowing her. "Huh?"
All OC said was, "Make up a little room for Tressa, sugah." She wasn't quite laughing as she spoke, it was more of a smirk.
"Um, yeah." Trading looks, one suspicious, the other amused, they rearranged the empty glasses on the table, and Max scooted her chair closer to OC's, looking at Tressa's face carefully for evidence of something, but Tressa was listening to Lem.
"So, romantic kisses, they're nice and all, but what about the ones that-" Lem waved her arms over-dramatically, "you know."
"No, we don't." Cindy replied. "Explain."
"Are all about the taster for the main course."
"Great choice of words there," OC snorted.
"Yeah, it was almost poetic," Max added.
Lem didn't care, picking up her newly filled glass, "You know what I mean, there was this guy, complete jerk, but he kissed like-"
And how weird was it to have all these kisses savored, no, how weird was she, Max thought, not to have had enough to savor? She knew men wanted her, but their ideas of kissing seemed to be more like slobbering and her no-bullshit and no-slobbering attitude suddenly seemed to have worked only too well over the years. And what had been okay, because she'd only wanted to kiss Logan-
Or had she?
“A year?” Annoyed by just the memory of Alec's far too acute question, she jerked her head a little.
"Hey, boo," OC's voice was gentle, and Max knew she'd been noticed. Cindy had probably been keeping an eye on her restlessness from the start. How she didn't want to share, didn't want to listen eagerly this time, to have the friendship and bonding that she usually craved. Instead, she wanted to run and ride until she ended up at the Needle where she could tilt her face up to the sky, so it could rain down on her. Her usual way of getting by.
"I'm gonna blaze," Max announced, knowing OC wasn't going to be shocked. Would cover for her.
"But we wanted names, gory details!" Lem exclaimed in a voice that gave away how bad her headache would be tomorrow.
"Some other time," Max lied. "Nice hanging with you." Nice like spending an afternoon in a cage full of snakes watched by Ames White. She nodded at them, OC, Tressa and Lem, as their chorus of seeing her tomorrow and to take care wrapped her up as she reversed and then spun around to weave outta the place.
"Whoa, hey!"
Oh great, Alec, of all people, muscle and insatiable desire to talk, was blocking her exit.
"Hey." Well, it was the closest to polite he was gonna get tonight.
"You girls seemed-" he waved his hand, "chatty."
"The first rule of conversations between us ‘girls’? We never had them," she said. “My lips are sealed.”
"Wasn't angling for a recap," he murmured. "Just, there you were chatting away and here you are, going places. Anything I should know about?"
Max frowned at him until she realized he wasn't thinking about her potentially having an emotional meltdown as much as problems having come up with CeCe's mission.
"Nah, it's all cool, no-one’s called," she replied, hurried and sincere.
"Oh, okay," she noticed him relax, even though he didn't change his stance. It was something in the eyes, "guess I'll go back to Sketchy and the pool table, unless-"
"Tressa's a nice kid. Quiet, so try not to mess with her mind, she's not another Lem," Max said, trying for the tone of a concerned friend who wanted the best for all parties. Again, she had a feeling she hadn't quite got it right, but, whatever. She'd tried.
"Mess with her? Gee, Max, thank you for having so much faith in my intentions."
"Oh, please don't play the 'I'm so innocent, no intentions here’ part," she glowered at his hazel eyes.
"There weren't any intentions, I mean, if anything did happen - especially sex - that would be fine, but in case you haven't noticed, I've been kinda busy," she wanted to look away from the serious edge to his hurt voice, because she had noticed, and appreciated what he’d done for Terminal City, but now was not the time to admit it. Plus the idea of an Alec too busy to be getting busy was whacked.
"So you were just being your usual self with the smirking and the flirting and the-"
"Why would you care?" Alec interrupted her. "You've probably listed most of my crimes and misdemeanors-well, some of 'em-to Tressa to make sure she stays away from dangerous old me. 'Course you might have overdone it and bam! Forbidden fruit! Is that what you're worried about? Nope, can't see it.
"So, tell me, Max, why are we even having this conversation about my intentions and my flirting?" If she hadn't been brought up to withstand much tougher interrogation techniques, Max might have shuffled her feet.
"Oh." Alec said suddenly. "'Flirting'. Now there's an interesting word choice right there."
"Yeah, bye," she made to pass him, but he was just as quick as she was, and they were surrounded by people, so she had to brake. Stop. Look up - and she did not like that smile on him at all. So very smug.
"You feeling green, Maxie?"
"Worried for my co-worker. Looking out for her 'cuz it's the right thing to do."
"Absolutely. Nothing to do with not wanting anybody else to get with me."
"You're so full of yourself and your non-existent charms,” Max snapped.
He shrugged.
"Keep telling yourself that, Max. Practice might make it more convincing."
"Can I pass now? Cuz this conversation is asinine."
He leaned forward,
"Only if you admit you want my ass," and it was stupid that as he leaned forward, brought his face close to hers, her eyes were fixated on his lips, the thoroughly sensual way they moved…. It was beyond dumb that her imagination was working over-time guessing exactly how they'd feel on hers. Warm, she thought, and she bit her lower lip involuntarily. The sharp sensation broke her out of her reverie.
"Dream on," she muttered, and as - at last - he leaned back. She took the gesture as her chance to pass him, her habit of noticing details meaning she picked up the confused look on his face. But she didn’t care. Right then, all she knew was if one drunken idiot got in between her and her bike and the road, she would be breaking stuff.
A hand on her wrist. His.
She took in the warmth of the touch even as she spun around, looking more or less directly into his eyes as she'd just stepped up onto one of the ramps.
"What was that?" His voice was curt, that of an officer conducting an interrogation. Bullshitting wouldn't work. And damn, she knew she was flushing, but she wasn't going to break eye contact now.
"An argument, Alec. An exchange of conflicting views. Part of our daily interaction."
"Yeah, got that, Max. But the ending was a lot different to what we usually do. No bodily contact," her mouth opened but she wasn't sure if she could say anything just then, and he continued, "no punching or threatening."
"You want me to kick your ass? Cuz that can be arranged." She almost sounded as sassy as ever. Except for being breathy instead of tough.
He shook his head, and she was still looking at his eyes. Waiting for this to end.
"Nope. I want an explanation."
She tried to pull back to mere staring, but he was so intent and she felt too pinned down, not so much by him as by the weight of herself and what she wanted.
"Nothing to explain," she said. He tilted his head a little, a message that he’d take no bullshit from her on this. He knew that she was lying, knew as well as OC when she was putting on an act and it wasn't fair if you had tells to your best friends and-
"I just…I need to get out and you were crowding me-" she tried, feeling sluggish as if she were in a dream, because the evasions weren't working. They just sounded ridiculous, and she shifted her weight, which wasn't quite the same as shuffling her feet. He was still crowding her somehow. She wasn’t sure if it was some Manticore technique or just Alec being Alec.
"How? How was I crowding you?"
"You were in my face," she hissed.
"Yeah, but it didn't seem to me that you minded, Max," he said plainly. "Is that what happened?"
And she wasn't breathing, was no longer moving, because why did he have to say that? She knew he was dangerous when he talked, saying things and not giving her space to turn and run, and he might as well be in her face again.
She licked her lips and took rapid, shallow breaths.
"I- I don't think I did mind," she admitted, "but I've had a weird crazy night and I-"
His eyes were on her lips and she stopped again. Stopped talking, stopped everything, rebooted.
And they were in Crash, her standing on the ramp to the exit unable to move, him slowly focussing on the rest of her face, catching her eyes, and all Max wanted was for Alec to lean in again, closer this time. She wanted to know what his lips felt like, what he tasted like, craved him and he was so slow, and she blurred at him. Captured his lips and it wasn't even seconds before he responded, matched her, shocked her with the rightness of it all. Max couldn’t but raise her hand to cradle his head. And he was warm to the kiss.
End.
Feedback is loved.
Fandom: Dark Angel
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Pairing: Max/Alec
Genre: Fluff/Romance/Angst
Summary: Girl talk. Flirtation. Realisation. Response.
Notes: Set in late S2, some time between ‘Hello, Goodbye’ and ‘Love Among the Runes’ and then it goes off and becomes AU. Mild spoilers for the novelisation ‘Before the Dawn’. This can be read as a prequel for ‘Giveaway’, but equally, it doesn’t have to.
Big thanks to izabelevans and lusmeitli for the beta. All idiocies are my fault.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and I make no profit from this.
With those lips (it'd be a waste): shallowness
It was girls talk time at their table at Crash, and, jammed up between loud gossip and beer-aided confidences, Max was wishing she could swap places with CeCe right now. CeCe, who was far away in another sector, busy unpicking her way through a not-that-tough security system to get her hands on TC's latest Most Wanted supplies. The job had come up for an X5 with wheels; Max knew she could have taken it if she'd wanted to, but she’d wanted some down-time with OC more.
But that morning, she’d found out that OC had invited the new girl, Tressa, to come out to Crash with them.
“You’re trying to bribe her with beer to stick through her third day of the Jam Pony experience?” Max had snarked.
“OC’s being friendly to her fellow wage-slave, is all. Wuz a time when we were raw recruits.” OC had said, filling a bag with parcels.
“Sure, whatever. It’s cool.” Max had said. “Unless if Sketch invited himself.”
“Girls only.” OC tried for light. “But-“
“But?” Max had demanded. Life was life, and okay, Tressa’s presence meant she’d have to scrub away all mention of visits to sewers, cells and Terminal City. Didn’t mean she wanted to find out that OC was turning this into a party.
“But Lem was in hearin’ distance when OC suggested drinks.”
Max made a ho-hum face, couldn’t help it, “Urgh, it’s gonna be one of those nights.”
“Boo, if you walk into Crash with that attitude? Oh, yeah it will.”
So, here Max was, stuck in a conversation she really wanted out of, trying to contain the tell-tale wriggles that would tip off OC that she’d struggled with the attitude, but it wouldn’t slip off. But right now, OC was using beer and charm to get the low-down from the new blood. Tressa was tall and lithe, but straight as far as OC had been able to figure, and too new for Alec to do much with yet. He’d managed the first smiling introductions, worked the ‘accidental’ eye contact like a pro the past days, and Max was sure he'd get round to Tressa within the week. Just like he, and plenty of other of the Jam Pony guys, had got round to Lem, who was sharing about her experiences with Max, OC and Tressa...
...And right now she was on kisses. And that was why Max was squirming - she could tell that the table was set for a round of confessing. Circle of hell, more like.
Because really, what could she share? All her memories of Darren had been twisted by finding out he was a cheating dick. Other memories were twisted by pheromones that she couldn’t explain to strangers. And really, those kisses had always been about foreplay - if you took out the play and turned the fore into something fierce. Which left what she and Logan had had, and that was too deep to take out like a funny story or anecdote to show off to the people you work with.
"Max?" Lem asked. "Remembering some particular event?"
Max must have jumped, so she covered automatically with a nonchalant smile that worked on marks, cops and co-workers. Except OC, who must have thought that she needed to take the attention from her friend, her voice sounding loud to Max’s ears,
"If you're talkin' about a memorable kiss, the real - sizzlin’ - deal, we're talkin' about OC’s first kiss. Well, wasn't technically the first kiss, but up till then OC’d been wonderin' what the fuss about the whole kissin' dealio was. None of them had done nothing for me."
"Ohh, first girl-on-girl kiss?" Lem asked, leaning forward.
"Yup - she was one fine honey and-" Max let her breath out, absently fumbling with the zipper of her jacket as she followed the conversation, but mainly letting her mind wander - hadta love that transgenic multi-tasking ability.
Granted, she didn't want to be another Lem, who could have shared for a week about all the guys who’d ever made her moan. But this conversation, boisterous and bawdy now, between Lem and OC, and even Tressa's shy contributions, was making Max realize, sorely, that she hadn't had enough kissing in her life. It was like the conversations about childhood holidays or favorite toys, only worse, because she couldn't pin her lack of experience on Manticore.
Well, she could. Why not blame Manticore for screwing up her romantic options? Add in all that Seattle had to offer a revved up girl, and Max was always sure to come up short.
Most of her hook-ups had only come about because of her heat, and when that passed, and Max looked the guy over, she found out she blew cold, the guy found out she blew cold and there she was. Cold and alone, riding around Seattle, telling herself she didn't care. Didn’t care that it never worked out, didn’t care that her body forced her on a Rafe or a whoever. And yet, tonight was a night of memories, and Max remembered a time before she’d come to Seattle, a boy who was just a kid really, with a crush she hadn’t been able to dislodge. And the one time she'd just kissed him, on the cheek, for Fresca, it had been something wonderful. And Max wanted that wonder. Only she wanted it to be on the lips.
Not that she'd trade in her Queen Bitch persona, but dammit, sometimes she wanted the candles and the romance and some music to ease her down, back to a couch, eyes closed as a skilled mouth left her lips to kiss the arch of her neck and...
"Max? Max, you want more beer?" Tressa asked, her voice raised loud for her.
"Yeah, sure," Max said absently. Tressa left her chair smiling, not so much as OC and Lem, who were exchanging grins and looks.
"What?" she snapped.
"Boo, you wuz in dreamland. Tressa nearly lost her voice trying to get through to you."
"So, you going to share what you were remembering with us?” Lem asked. “Looked good."
That’d be the making-out session that never happened, Max thought sourly. She'd wanted it with Logan, for so long, and all she'd had were snatches. But she had to give some answer.
"Romantic," Max murmured. "Candle-lit out of choice, the right pace and the right pressure and-" Her voice trailed off. After all, it never really happened and why did it feel so past tense to be thinking about Logan?
"Sounds nice," OC said, responding to what Max had said out loud.
"And there's one who knows how to kiss," Lem interrupted, bored with the 'nice' and 'romantic' answer. Two heads jolted in the direction of her nod. The room-mates even timed their eye-rolling together. But Max had the better hearing to pick up on Alec’s gentlemanly offer to carry the damsel's pitcher.
To her credit, Tressa was standing up to his charm, "I'm good, this is nothing compared to some of the loads Normal’s had me delivering, you know." Only, as she spoke, she was smiling so much that Max was sure it had to hurt. And staring at Alec's lips thirstily, Max wondered, vicious like a knife throw, if Tressa'd ogle those lips if she knew they'd been deliberately shaped by science.
Alec was smiling back, acknowledging defeat on the offer, but making clear that that didn’t change his interest in Tressa. Making out there was a potential something between them. It was sick. Okay, so he knew how to use those lips, Max admitted, not noticing how she'd parted hers. How expectant she looked, which was why she had no idea why OC was elbowing her. "Huh?"
All OC said was, "Make up a little room for Tressa, sugah." She wasn't quite laughing as she spoke, it was more of a smirk.
"Um, yeah." Trading looks, one suspicious, the other amused, they rearranged the empty glasses on the table, and Max scooted her chair closer to OC's, looking at Tressa's face carefully for evidence of something, but Tressa was listening to Lem.
"So, romantic kisses, they're nice and all, but what about the ones that-" Lem waved her arms over-dramatically, "you know."
"No, we don't." Cindy replied. "Explain."
"Are all about the taster for the main course."
"Great choice of words there," OC snorted.
"Yeah, it was almost poetic," Max added.
Lem didn't care, picking up her newly filled glass, "You know what I mean, there was this guy, complete jerk, but he kissed like-"
And how weird was it to have all these kisses savored, no, how weird was she, Max thought, not to have had enough to savor? She knew men wanted her, but their ideas of kissing seemed to be more like slobbering and her no-bullshit and no-slobbering attitude suddenly seemed to have worked only too well over the years. And what had been okay, because she'd only wanted to kiss Logan-
Or had she?
“A year?” Annoyed by just the memory of Alec's far too acute question, she jerked her head a little.
"Hey, boo," OC's voice was gentle, and Max knew she'd been noticed. Cindy had probably been keeping an eye on her restlessness from the start. How she didn't want to share, didn't want to listen eagerly this time, to have the friendship and bonding that she usually craved. Instead, she wanted to run and ride until she ended up at the Needle where she could tilt her face up to the sky, so it could rain down on her. Her usual way of getting by.
"I'm gonna blaze," Max announced, knowing OC wasn't going to be shocked. Would cover for her.
"But we wanted names, gory details!" Lem exclaimed in a voice that gave away how bad her headache would be tomorrow.
"Some other time," Max lied. "Nice hanging with you." Nice like spending an afternoon in a cage full of snakes watched by Ames White. She nodded at them, OC, Tressa and Lem, as their chorus of seeing her tomorrow and to take care wrapped her up as she reversed and then spun around to weave outta the place.
"Whoa, hey!"
Oh great, Alec, of all people, muscle and insatiable desire to talk, was blocking her exit.
"Hey." Well, it was the closest to polite he was gonna get tonight.
"You girls seemed-" he waved his hand, "chatty."
"The first rule of conversations between us ‘girls’? We never had them," she said. “My lips are sealed.”
"Wasn't angling for a recap," he murmured. "Just, there you were chatting away and here you are, going places. Anything I should know about?"
Max frowned at him until she realized he wasn't thinking about her potentially having an emotional meltdown as much as problems having come up with CeCe's mission.
"Nah, it's all cool, no-one’s called," she replied, hurried and sincere.
"Oh, okay," she noticed him relax, even though he didn't change his stance. It was something in the eyes, "guess I'll go back to Sketchy and the pool table, unless-"
"Tressa's a nice kid. Quiet, so try not to mess with her mind, she's not another Lem," Max said, trying for the tone of a concerned friend who wanted the best for all parties. Again, she had a feeling she hadn't quite got it right, but, whatever. She'd tried.
"Mess with her? Gee, Max, thank you for having so much faith in my intentions."
"Oh, please don't play the 'I'm so innocent, no intentions here’ part," she glowered at his hazel eyes.
"There weren't any intentions, I mean, if anything did happen - especially sex - that would be fine, but in case you haven't noticed, I've been kinda busy," she wanted to look away from the serious edge to his hurt voice, because she had noticed, and appreciated what he’d done for Terminal City, but now was not the time to admit it. Plus the idea of an Alec too busy to be getting busy was whacked.
"So you were just being your usual self with the smirking and the flirting and the-"
"Why would you care?" Alec interrupted her. "You've probably listed most of my crimes and misdemeanors-well, some of 'em-to Tressa to make sure she stays away from dangerous old me. 'Course you might have overdone it and bam! Forbidden fruit! Is that what you're worried about? Nope, can't see it.
"So, tell me, Max, why are we even having this conversation about my intentions and my flirting?" If she hadn't been brought up to withstand much tougher interrogation techniques, Max might have shuffled her feet.
"Oh." Alec said suddenly. "'Flirting'. Now there's an interesting word choice right there."
"Yeah, bye," she made to pass him, but he was just as quick as she was, and they were surrounded by people, so she had to brake. Stop. Look up - and she did not like that smile on him at all. So very smug.
"You feeling green, Maxie?"
"Worried for my co-worker. Looking out for her 'cuz it's the right thing to do."
"Absolutely. Nothing to do with not wanting anybody else to get with me."
"You're so full of yourself and your non-existent charms,” Max snapped.
He shrugged.
"Keep telling yourself that, Max. Practice might make it more convincing."
"Can I pass now? Cuz this conversation is asinine."
He leaned forward,
"Only if you admit you want my ass," and it was stupid that as he leaned forward, brought his face close to hers, her eyes were fixated on his lips, the thoroughly sensual way they moved…. It was beyond dumb that her imagination was working over-time guessing exactly how they'd feel on hers. Warm, she thought, and she bit her lower lip involuntarily. The sharp sensation broke her out of her reverie.
"Dream on," she muttered, and as - at last - he leaned back. She took the gesture as her chance to pass him, her habit of noticing details meaning she picked up the confused look on his face. But she didn’t care. Right then, all she knew was if one drunken idiot got in between her and her bike and the road, she would be breaking stuff.
A hand on her wrist. His.
She took in the warmth of the touch even as she spun around, looking more or less directly into his eyes as she'd just stepped up onto one of the ramps.
"What was that?" His voice was curt, that of an officer conducting an interrogation. Bullshitting wouldn't work. And damn, she knew she was flushing, but she wasn't going to break eye contact now.
"An argument, Alec. An exchange of conflicting views. Part of our daily interaction."
"Yeah, got that, Max. But the ending was a lot different to what we usually do. No bodily contact," her mouth opened but she wasn't sure if she could say anything just then, and he continued, "no punching or threatening."
"You want me to kick your ass? Cuz that can be arranged." She almost sounded as sassy as ever. Except for being breathy instead of tough.
He shook his head, and she was still looking at his eyes. Waiting for this to end.
"Nope. I want an explanation."
She tried to pull back to mere staring, but he was so intent and she felt too pinned down, not so much by him as by the weight of herself and what she wanted.
"Nothing to explain," she said. He tilted his head a little, a message that he’d take no bullshit from her on this. He knew that she was lying, knew as well as OC when she was putting on an act and it wasn't fair if you had tells to your best friends and-
"I just…I need to get out and you were crowding me-" she tried, feeling sluggish as if she were in a dream, because the evasions weren't working. They just sounded ridiculous, and she shifted her weight, which wasn't quite the same as shuffling her feet. He was still crowding her somehow. She wasn’t sure if it was some Manticore technique or just Alec being Alec.
"How? How was I crowding you?"
"You were in my face," she hissed.
"Yeah, but it didn't seem to me that you minded, Max," he said plainly. "Is that what happened?"
And she wasn't breathing, was no longer moving, because why did he have to say that? She knew he was dangerous when he talked, saying things and not giving her space to turn and run, and he might as well be in her face again.
She licked her lips and took rapid, shallow breaths.
"I- I don't think I did mind," she admitted, "but I've had a weird crazy night and I-"
His eyes were on her lips and she stopped again. Stopped talking, stopped everything, rebooted.
And they were in Crash, her standing on the ramp to the exit unable to move, him slowly focussing on the rest of her face, catching her eyes, and all Max wanted was for Alec to lean in again, closer this time. She wanted to know what his lips felt like, what he tasted like, craved him and he was so slow, and she blurred at him. Captured his lips and it wasn't even seconds before he responded, matched her, shocked her with the rightness of it all. Max couldn’t but raise her hand to cradle his head. And he was warm to the kiss.
End.
Feedback is loved.