After I wrote 'Last' in the Alphabet Challenge, a couple of ideas appeared to me. One, was to start a story at what would normally be the end of it. And it's been lingering for so long now that something had to be done. So, I present to you: 'The Eightfold Path'.
The second idea is really based on a somewhat unpopular concept: That there are worse things you can do to someone than cheat.

The Eightfold Path

Chapter One

Max sat, staring at the ring glinting on her finger. The diamond was beautiful. Ridiculous, impractical, sure to attract exactly the wrong kind of attention, but beautiful. She swirled the straw in her glass and watched the light above the bar reflect off the gem on her finger with each slow circle. She had been sat like that for an hour and a half, and the glass before her was her sixth. She knew her damn transgenic metabolism meant she would need to double that number again before she felt drunk enough to deal with this. Any of it.

She contemplated going home. Or going back to Logan's. The chunk of carbon on her finger seemed like a fairly good indication she'd be welcome there. But then, that was why she was in the bar in the first place. Going back to him, and his expectations and hopeful, happy eyes, would not help clear her head.

Because she had said yes.

And she didn't know why.

She knew that she loved Logan. She had loved him for a long time. He was a good guy: solid, dependable, moral, idealistic. He loved her. He had waited for her, even when she had tried her hardest to push him away. He had believed in her when everything around them had started to fall apart. He saw the good in her where others didn't. He saw through the Commanding Officer routine, the fierce and tough exterior she used to deal with so many situations in their broken world. He was charming, and worldly. He was smart, and cultured. On the shallow side, he was an attractive man. He dressed himself well and took care of his appearance. She knew he would put all of himself into being a fantastic husband, and if it ever came to it, he'd be a brilliant father. Any of these reasons would have been enough for so many girls.

So why did she feel so distant? Why hadn't she phoned Cindy immediately after, shrieking and excited like any normal girl?

Why was this so difficult for her to process?

Maybe she was a masochist. Hardwired, whether by scientific manipulation or carefully constructed internal barriers, to never be truly happy. She almost snorted at herself. At the grandiosity of the statement, and how ultimately pathetic it made her seem.

Quickly, Max tugged the ring from her finger and palmed it into her jacket pocket. She couldn't look at it any more. At everything that it symbolised. The value of her relationship. The emotional detachment that she would always, at least in part, blame Manticore for coding into her.

Family meant the world to her. Finding hers, re-uniting with them, learning about them and consequently herself. So why was she shrinking from the idea of creating a new one? Why did the idea of having a husband, maybe starting a family, feel so alien?

Why did it bring out the urge to escape and evade?

Love, Max decided, taking another long, slow sip of her whiskey, was maybe just as complicated as she had always thought. Even when it was going exactly the way everyone had always told her that it should.

"You hiding from me?" Max started at the voice, then relaxed when she looked up and saw Alec.

"Not you personally," she assured him. "Just the world at large."

"Ah." He conceded. "Understandable."

"I'm glad you understand it." She said, with maybe a touch more bitterness than she would have liked.

"Okay." He said slowly. "Maybe I don't after all. What's up?"

"Nothing." She answered quietly. Then a sigh. Small. Equally quiet. "Everything. I don't want to talk about it. You wanna just drink with me?" He looked down at the tumbler in her hand.

"It must be bad," he stated, nodding at it. "You're on the hard stuff tonight. Can't remember the last time I saw you drink anything except light beer."

"I had wine with my food at Logan's earlier." She corrected him automatically.

"Ah," he nodded again. "So this is Logan's doing?" Max gritted her teeth before she said anything she regretted. She wasn't sure what had happened at Logan's yet, let alone how to explain it to Alec of all people. A few hours ago she and Logan hadn't even officially been a couple. She turned to look at him.

"Do you want to drink or not?" Alec held in a smirk.

"You buying?" he asked.

"Sure." She agreed, turning away again. She signalled the bartender and when he came toward them pointed at Alec. "Add it to my tab, okay?"

Alec ordered a double scotch and pulled the stool beside her closer as his drink was poured. He accepted it with a low "Thanks," and sat.

To his credit, he gave her a full ten minutes of silence before he began to fidget and look over at her. But she found that she didn't mind. That she was maybe done with quiet for the moment anyway.

There was a strange, unfamiliar feeling in her chest. An energy, building and pounding against her ribs to be released. She downed what was left in her tumbler, wondering if it was because of the alien pressure that made her just so desperate to do… god. Just something. To break away from the stress she'd been hiding from all night. Push it down and smother it under something better. She caught Alec's eye, and there was a glint there that made her wonder if he was feeling something similar. If he could possibly feel the same kind of ache. For excitement. For fun. For oblivion. To be lost in anywhere, anything, but here and now.

She didn't know what made her do it, the same unfathomable urge perhaps, but one minute she was sitting beside him, and the next she was reaching for his face and pulling it to hers. And then she was kissing him, and he was letting her.

Her first thought was that his mouth was hot on hers. Her second was that, well, that shouldn't have been her first. But then she forced it away. Pushed her thoughts away entirely actually, and tried to let her instincts take over.

Tried, for the first time in a long time, to lose herself in something.

He was holding back, she could feel it. Where she was on fire, it was like a forest fire hitting a cliff side. Full of heat. Pounding. Beating against it. Unstoppable. But to little discernible impact. She didn't know why, but she wanted him to be malleable in her hands. To react. To be moved. Though he wasn't pushing her away, he wasn't pushing into her either. The doubt, or maybe it was guilt, began to grasp for air again. She dragged herself back together, though as soon as her mouth left Alec's she felt as though she had lost something there. That some unknowable piece of her had broken off in the kiss. Her heart was pounding, and she allowed herself a brief moment before she met Alec's eyes.

She expected an instant snarky comment, but none came. Instead she saw hazel eyes searching her face and a curious expression. She pressed her lips together, and saw him swallow once, his Adam's Apple bobbing. She made a move to pull back from him, but his hand was suddenly on her upper arm. He wore a questioning frown.

"I want to ask why, but…"

"I don't want to talk about it." She finished for him. He nodded and didn't question her further. He was Alec, he knew better. Probably knew he wouldn't like the answer. The hand on her arm moved to her face, and he stood from his stool. He took a step toward her, eyes still questioning. When she didn't pull away, and angled her head to look up at him, he dipped his head down, closer to hers. Still she didn't pull away. She didn't think that she could if she wanted to. She could barely breathe. The scent of him was all around her now, and his palm was scorching on her skin. When her eyes fluttered closed, Alec knew he had his permission.

She felt his breath whispering over the curve of her mouth before his lips touched hers again, and then the wildfire was back.

It could have been minutes, it could have been days that Alec stood in that spot and kissed her. It could have taken seconds, or it could have taken weeks for everything around them to melt away. Max could feel her pulse in her lips wherever he kissed her, with a level of softness that she never knew he possessed. She let her hand creep onto his waist, her thumb massaging his oblique, and the tiny circles made his breath catch in his throat. She allowed herself a moment of smugness that she had elicited a reaction from him, and he smiled against her mouth, like he knew what she was thinking. Which he probably did.

Because he was Alec.

He pressed in towards her, pushing her knees apart so he could stand between them, and reached a hand up behind her to wind his fingers through her hair. His mouth was rougher now, like he was memorising her. The shape of her mouth, the curve of her lips, the taste of her tongue. She knew she probably tasted like whiskey, but he did a little too, so Max found she didn't care so much. His fingers traced fire trails on her scalp, and Max felt her face flush. She felt her entire body flush. He was breathing flames into her. She opened her eyes, and saw his were closed. It felt strange, but also wonderful. Then she spotted a waiter staring at them, and remembered where they were. What they were doing. Who they were. That anyone else might see them too.

She managed to put her hands on his chest, and pushed him back gently. His eyes opened immediately and looked at her questioningly. But there was a hesitance there too. A nervousness that just wasn't like him. She felt the need to reassure him.

"Want to get out of here?" she whispered. He relaxed immediately.

"My place is closest." He suggested, matter-of-factly. She nodded and smiled at him. As she stood, he picked up the leather jacket she had discarded when she first got there, and in a moment of unexpected chivalry, helped her put it on. He took her hand and led her out of the bar. A few people glanced at them as they passed, one a former Jam Pony employee, but they were mainly ignored. Once outside he draped an arm over her shoulder, a familiar gesture now, but still one she hadn't got used to, and pointed just up the street to where his bike was parked. She pressed the back of her head into his arm to indicate the fenced off parking lot beside the bar.

"Guess this is where we separate." She said quietly. Because for some reason she really didn't want to. She wanted to hide in Alec's arms for eternity. The thought of stepping out of their pocket of warmth was too sobering. Like she'd rethink everything. Remember who she was and what she was doing. Panic. Run. He turned and pulled her into his chest. Laid a quick kiss on her temple before saying,

"You can go home if you want. If you're rethinking all this. I won't mention it, or judge. I just…" he put one hand under her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. He was smiling, and Max could see he meant what he said. There was no sarcasm or vitriol there. Just gentleness. His look was more comforting than any embrace. She went on her toes, and gently brushed his lips with hers.

"I'll meet you at your apartment." She promised. She forced herself to pull away from him and shrug off the chill that ran over her. Tried not to think about what she had seemingly promised him. What had she? She didn't think she even really knew. All she knew was that tonight, she wanted her companion. She wanted to be with him.

His apartment was only a few blocks away, and they made it there in less than five minutes. She locked her bike up beside Alec's in the cage he'd constructed at the bottom of his building, and followed him up the stairs. He held the door open for her and locked it behind them. Max found herself standing in his living room awkwardly, feeling out of place in the familiar surroundings. Why had she come here? Was she really going to do this? She touched the ring in her pocket and felt sick. Sick that she wanted to be here. That the prospect of his touch thrilled her. Made her feel more than she'd been able to feel in a long time.

She gripped the top of the couch, steadying herself against the whirlwind in her mind. But her awkwardness melted away as she felt Alec's hands slip around her waist. His body pressed against her back and she felt the heat rise into her face. She knew her face must be flushed, and was glad for the low light in the room. His palms were flat against her abdomen, fingers moving in slow circles. Otherwise he was still. Waiting quietly for her to decide. To show him it was safe to press forward. Whether it was acknowledged aloud or not, there was a part of both of them that knew Max had the bigger struggle to face here. That she still had the connotations of Ben lingering over her, along with the conflict of Logan.

Of course, there was no way that Alec could know how big the conflict had become.

Was it fear, now, that was making Max want to destroy everything she and Logan had worked so hard towards? Or was it doubt she felt, niggling in because of this promise of a new future? A new commitment that maybe she wasn't sure was wanted. Not yet.

Not ever?

The warmth of Alec's breath on the back of her neck drew Max back into herself, and her heart began to race as he planted a soft kiss on the curve of her throat, above the collar of her jacket. She realised that she had dropped her head to the side slightly, and the fingers of her left hand were now laced with his on her stomach. With a quiet exhale, she dropped her head further to the side, granting him further access. His fingers tightened around hers, and his lips traced an invisible track up her neck. With her free hand, Max drew down the zipper of her jacket.

Author's Note:

Chapter 2 coming soon. Extended (read: slightly smutty-ish, though I'm hardly the queen of that kind of writing) version of this chapter will be available on my Archive of Our Own profile in due course also (see my profile for the link). Still needs some tweaking before I'll consider it upload-able though.