Alex. In the pool. With a knife.

Chapter 1: Alex

'Drinking alone? Never a good sign,' Alex teased. Ryan turned around and patted the empty barstool to his left. She shook her head and remained standing.

'Are you celebrating or commiserating?' she asked. There was a short pause before he answered. Half actual thinking, half delayed reaction time, Alex estimated. It was weird to see Ryan like this. She'd only ever seen him either in control or trying so hard to be in control. Serious.

'Both. Don't get me wrong: I'm glad that Division's gone. I got a little power hungry there,' Ryan admitted. Not slurring, but his speech was slower and carefully over enunciated. The true tell of inebriation.

'For the right reason, though,' Alex defended him. He was very hard on himself. Always beating himself up over things. Well, they all did that. He smiled gratefully at her before looking at his drink.

'Yeah, maybe, but still,' he said.

'So, you're mourning the potential of Division?'

'Something like that.'

There was sadness in his voice that she felt he had little right to. Also, she wasn't in the mood for anyone's pity party.

'I'll leave you to it then.'

'Ah, come on. Join me,' he said, ordering another drink for himself and then looking at her. Waiting. Alex sighed and slid onto the barstool next to him.

(***)

Half an hour later.

'It's like... you did the right thing for the wrong reason,' Ryan explained. Betraying Nikita, Michael and Birkhoff wasn't exactly her favourite topic of conversation. She still hadn't figured out whether Amanda fucking with her brain was an excuse or an explanation. Yet, despite the subject matter, Alex grinned.

'I think you mean that I did the wrong thing for the right reason,' she corrected him. He stared at her with furrowed brow.

'What did I say?'

(***)

Another half hour later.

'Here's to taking it easy,' Ryan toasted, his shoulder bumping into hers as he tried to knock back the last of his drink.

'I think it's time you went home,' Alex suggested. To her relief, he didn't argue. He didn't seem to be a contrary drunk. Just a more relaxed version of the usual Ryan. He leaned against the bar. It was pretty clear that he wasn't going to make it outside without some support. She offered him her arm and he took it. They made it to the street without problems. Alex hailed a cab. She thought about asking him whether he remembered his address, but decided against it. He was her friend; the least she could do was make sure he got home safely.

(***)

A quarter of an hour later.

She told the cab driver to wait. Ryan's apartment building was nice. Entering his apartment felt like she was crossing some kind of boundary, though. Not that there was intensely personal stuff lying around or something, but it was a glimpse into his private life nonetheless. She wondered whether he had people over. Whether he lied to them about who he was and what he did. All things she hadn't thought about before.

The bedroom was tidy. She sat him down on the bed and began to take off his shoes. She assumed that this was what you were supposed to do in this situation. This was what people did, right?

'You lost Sean,' he said. Startled, Alex looked up.

'It doesn't seem right that he was the one to die. He was such a good guy,' she responded. The real kicker was that it was still happening. She hadn't lost Sean; she was still in the process of losing him.

The more difficult to define things were the ones to go first, like Sean's special brand of cockiness and vulnerability. The way he'd looked at her – corny as hell – as if she was the only girl in the world. How, even when he was mad at her, she could tell that he loved her. Hard to hold onto, apparently, because they slipped between her fingers like grains of sand and when she tried to pick them up again she couldn't be sure whether they were the same. Was this how Sean had looked at her? Was this how it had felt to be loved by Sean?

But today had been okay. She hadn't lost anything today. Standing up, she looked out of the window. The cab wasn't at the curb anymore. Oh, shit.

(***)

The next morning.

The sound of the shower woke her up. Quickly, Alex dressed and ventured into the kitchen to wait there for Ryan. When he entered – a few minutes later – he looked fine. A little tired, but mostly restored to normal. He gave no sign of having been phenomenally drunk the night before.

'I slept in the spare room. I hope you don't mind,' she explained.

'You didn't have to stay.'

'The cab left.'

'Well, in that case you did have to stay, Alexandra Udinov. I'll make you breakfast,' he offered and smiled and Alex kissed him. Just like that. Caught by surprise, Ryan responded for a second, but then he pulled away. His hands were on her shoulders and he was sort of holding her at arm's length.

'We shouldn't do this. It's… not right, you know,' he gently pointed out. Alex nodded in agreement. Not so soon after Sean.