Summary: Max had heard once, that moving on wasn't the hardest part of making a decision as life altering as the one she'd chosen. She had to agree. With all her ghosts still free and lingering, nipping at her heel, moving on wasn't the hardest part—it was letting go.
Warnings: AU, language, adult themes. Possible sexual content. Unbeta
Disclaimer This is a work of fanfiction, written purely to entertain myself and (hopefully) whoever else stumbles upon this and finds it entertaining.
Pairings: Alec/Max, Alec/Rachel, Max/OMC

Kaleidoscope

--x&x--

Part one: Letting go

--x&x--

It was so unexpected that even long after, Max couldn't quite believed that it had happened. Let alone how it did.

She had always known that her life sucked—more than most.

Yeah, she'd been created in a lab. Was some freaky mix of human and beast. This fact bred into her some equally weird traits—exacerbated by the brainwashing as a child, but she had accepted that as the norm now. More or less. There also was the fact that she had freed more freaks like herself into the world—some of which were running riot and made Ben look like a saint in his psychosis. The only good of it was that the 'ordinaries' had no idea what really walked among them and thought the mysterious deaths were merely the acts of gang warfare. Well, most of them assumed so, at any rate. Even though there was practically a thriving city of said freaks within Seattle.

Then there was some wack job called White on her tail and in her shadow at every turn. Obsessive, she thought. He was definitely that—far worse than Lydecker on a really bad day.

Her mother—surrogate, whatever—the woman who had carried her for nine long months and then shoved her out, had fought for her. Had wanted to keep her. Max wasn't deluded into believing that qualified outright as love, but she knew the woman had cared enough for her to fight back against Manticore, and that alone earned her the right for Max to call her 'Mom' so life wasn't all that bad, despite Max never having found her.

She often wondered though, what her mom would have thought of her. How she had turned out, if she was a disappointment. But mostly—mostly Max wanted to know how her mother would have taken her giving up. Though she figured that she wasn't really giving up—it was more like stepping down to give someone else a turn.

Life wasn't fair and for her, more often than not, it was rough. She had rolled with the punches, made lemonade out of the lemons—that was how that saying went, right? Now she was merely accepting.

Well, not so much accepting as getting on with it, but who could fault her the technicalities, honestly?

Logan sure as hell wouldn't.

"Aww, c'mon, Maxie. Don't be a spoil sport."

Alec.

Trust Alec to go and interrupt her furious inner debates just when she was starting to get to the point. He thought he was so damn clever in his distractions, or maybe he just didn't care whether she knew what his intentions were or not. She wanted to strangle him—except that she couldn't. That would be far too close to how she'd killed Ben.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" She snapped, trying to immerse herself back into the throbbing base of the music. Hypnotic and steady, it pulsed through the bar. Through her blood. Lulling her back into that false stillness in her mind where she could almost believe that she felt nothing.

She'd given up on the nickname. What was the point? He'd continue calling her 'Maxie' until he died.

He shot her a look and grabbed a lopsided chair. "Plenty busy," he gave a sarcastic nod toward the growing bottles set at her table. The tower of empty mugs that sat balanced precariously at the edge. Complete with a drunk Sketchy passed out at Max's feet, unable to keep up. She'd moved on from the beer and straight onto the hard stuff.

Dragging his chair closer to the table with a screech—oblivious or uncaring of Max's annoyance—Alec settled before her and dove right in. "This 'bout Logan?"

God, if only, she mutely grumped. It would make her life that much easier.

"No," was her short response, followed up by another mouthful of liquor. Whiskey. Wouldn't Deck be so proud? She snorted, humourlessly. Savouring the bitter taste as it burned a way down her throat.

Alec seemed wholly unconvinced as he studied her. His finger tapping the side of his glass of scotch. "So, your knockin' back half the bar's contents has nothing whatsoever to do with Logie bear sitting in the corner with Asha?"

Max blinked as she glanced over in the direction that Alec had indicated with the casual nod of his head.

Huh? So they were, she acknowledged, distractedly. Ensconced quite comfortably in his own little corner of the world was Logan. Asha seated across from him, leaning forward eagerly absorbing whatever tale he was spinning. Likely something work related, because he seemed incapable of not working. Well, good for them.

Was it so wrong of her not to have noticed her not-like-that-boyfriend who was really no-longer-like-that? She didn't think so, and regretted the moment that their eyes met as Logan looked up, apparently sensing her eyes on him—the nostalgia and love was almost too much for her to take. They were over. Had been for months, but even now Logan couldn't quite let go. That had to suck for Asha.

Breaking the moment, Max went back to swishing her bottle around, which was now woefully nearing empty. At least it gave her something to do. "Not at all," she replied, completely nonchalant.

Maybe she didn't deserve to be loved. Look what she'd done to Logan?

"Max," Alec again cut in to her little pity-party.

He finished his scotch and placed his glass down on the minefield of a table. Probably more to buy himself some time for an explanation as to his being there or maybe it was to steel himself for whatever emotional turmoil may take place. He didn't do emotional well and neither did she.

Then evidently he changed his mind because he next said. "We haven't done anything interesting in ages."

It was almost enough to make Max snap back at him again. To ask him whose fault that was, but she somehow managed to refrain. It wouldn't help anyone in the long run and truthfully, she was just too exhausted right now. Had been for a while. What she needed was to get away. Find herself again and move on.

"You, me. An easy ten thou awaits. C'mon, Maxie. Say yes."

Max didn't even glance over at him, instead focused on the swirling amberish liquid that was soon to meet its end. "If it's so easy," she took a large swallow of her drink and dropped the now empty bottle to the table as she peered up, "why do you need me to come along?"

She already had a fair idea as to his answer, though he'd never admit it. He wanted to keep her mind busy; he was worried about her—felt sorry for her—and she had been his partner in crime. Had his back on heists just like he always had hers, even if at first she had tried to stick with the morals she'd picked up from Logan—but lately there had been precious few moments where Alec and her were together outside of work, despite living together. Let alone finding enough time for something to get their adrenalin running. Blood pumping in the way that only racing through the streets at breakneck speeds or jumping from rooftop to rooftop could achieve.

In all honesty, she had missed it. All of it. Even the quiet nights in with a beer on the couch watching crappy reruns on late night television or some movie that Alec had managed to find. And she knew that he had missed that, too.

Instead of answering, Alec frowned at her as he leant forward. Pulling back when he almost upset the shaky harmony of the table's various items. Instead of pushing her like he usually would, he stood up. "Fine," he said and turned his back on her, intent on the door.

Max knew she would regret this, but old habits were hard to get rid of. No matter how much one tried to rid themselves of it. He was a big boy—she knew that—and he could look after himself, but there was also the chance of something going wrong and when anything involved Alec, it usually did. The boy had worst luck than even her and he was her best friend, now that Cindy was gone.

"Alec, wait." She snagged her leather jacket from the back of her own rickety chair and threw it on, then hoisted the unconscious Sketchy from the ground. Slinging his arm around her shoulder for leverage, she tugged him into a semi up-right position. Thankful for her genetics because otherwise, she knew she wouldn't have even managed that.

Alec stopped and looked back at her, his countenance that of indifferent curiosity and a perhaps a touch miffed.

"Help me with him," Max demanded, readjusting her burden's weight. Because for one scrawny guy, a comatose Sketchy was really quite heavy.

As always, Alec complied. Taking Sketchy from Max completely as he practically dragged his inebriated friend through the people scattered about Crash and out into the cool night air. Though with much grumbling on his part, as was his wont.

It was almost enough to bring a smile to Max's lips.

--x&x--

"Admit it."

"No."

"Max."

"No, Alec," she ground out in return. Flustered and embarrassed despite herself she crossed her arms and scowled angrily ahead, carefully ignoring the grinning idiot practically bouncing along at her side. That was the last time she ever drank that much before doing anything with him. Clearly Transgenics could become quite tipsy after imbibing that much liquor. Who knew?

Luckily for her, it had worn off quickly. Not as fast as she would have liked, nor even enough to prevent the girly moment that she'd had.

But her snappy tone couldn't bring Alec down, however, he was apparently on too much of a buzz. "Max, Max, Max," he chided lightly. Eyes lit up to a bright clear green and his near permanent smirk carrying a sense of accomplishment. "You liked it—I know you did. Maybe we can make a girl of you yet."

"I did not," Max argued, hotly. Refusing to admit that she had rather liked playing princess. However limited an amount of time it had taken for Alec to slip into the manor's vault while she distracted those at the gathering. She doubted she could act snobbish all the time, though. Nice as it was, living like that would get old and fast. "And what do you mean, 'maybe we can make a girl of you yet?'—I am a girl!"

Pausing a moment, Alec appraised her still silk clad form. Taking in the red, backless halter-neck dress with the thin golden chains that held it in place and the deep split up its side, flashing a long, slender leg. He smirked devilishly. "Oh I can definitely see that."

She wanted to hit him. So she did.

"Ow." He rubbed at his head in exaggeration.

She rolled her eyes, refolding her arms. He could be such a drama queen. She doubted that it even hurt. The big baby.

"Anger management first."

Max lifted a closed fist in silent threat.

"Okay—All right!" Alec protested, throwing up both his hands to fend off anymore attacks that he thought she still wanted to launch upon his person. "Geez." But he still walked with the that same air of achievement. His footsteps light upon the worn carpets of where they stayed. A different one to where Max had lived with Cindy—to where her friend had lost her life when White had bombed the place.

Reaching their loft, Max went to unlock the door only to find that it hadn't been locked. She glared up at Alec.

"It wasn't me," he said, defensively and leant in to take a better look at the door. "Hasn't been forced," he observed, pitching his voice at a level of she could hear. Then ran a finger around the lock and checked the handle. He spared Max a brief, speaking look.

After Max's home being blown to kingdom come, they had been extra careful in covering where they lived. While the place wasn't in the most prosperous part of the city it was far from the derelict half-completed complex that Max had been living in before. It was even better than Alec's old place and under the name of some Jason Derrick. White shouldn't have known they were there. Then again, he shouldn't have been able to find Max that first time.

Just as they were mutely debating on which course of action to take, they heard a noise from inside and a soft voice called out.

"Alec, is that you?"

Max felt the vestiges of her happiness drain as she stalked into the apartment after Alec. So much for grabbing a late night movie. She wondered if she should just go back to Crash for another round of drinks.

Rachel Berrisford was standing in the living room, bundled up in her warm, designer clothing and looking anxious. She was the only other person who knew where they lived. Probably the best thing that had happened to Alec, too. And at first Max had been happy for Alec, because if she couldn't get her Disney ending at least he could get his and despite the shit she said about him sometimes—in her angrier moments, like now—she knew he deserved it. If anyone deserved some happiness in their lives, it was Alec.

But now…

"Rachel," Alec smiled. He only ever used that soft tone with her. Like she was the only person who could ever draw an honest smile from him. "What are you doing here?"

What was she doing there, so late at night? It was nearing eleven.

The younger girl blinked deep blue eyes and peered over at Max before looking at Alec. It brought Max back to the fact that she was wearing an evening dress. She could already see confusion coming off Rachel in waves. There was also the faint, fleeting sense of suspicion before it was swept away. Rachel it seemed didn't deem her a threat. "You weren't answering your phone," she said.

Frowning, Alec pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Only to discover that it's batteries were dead. "Sorry," he grinned, boyishly. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Not long," Rachel assured, glancing back at Max.

Max had had enough. "I'll leave you guys to it," she said curtly, intending to get to the stairs that led to her room. She couldn't breathe and needed to get out of this ridiculously tight dress. The pins that held her curls in place were giving her a headache—she needed them out. She began tugging them roughly free from her hair. "Later!"

As soon as she could, she was gonna hit the town.

"Max, wait!" Rachel's voice called out. "Please."

Despite herself, Max stopped in her tracks and faced them. Trying not to look too impatient or annoyed. Rachel was Alec's girlfriend, she had a right to visit. That's right, Max, she reminded herself, bitterly. She's got every right to be here.

"Have you asked her yet?" Rachel queried, peering back at Alec.

He looked suddenly nervous and rubbed at the back of his head. "No," he replied, eyes darting briefly to the now statue-still Max. "I was gonna ask her now."

Max's eyes narrowed in confusion and suspicion. He had to ask her something—was that why he had taken her out on that little trip? To soften her up for something? She quickly found herself growing angrier by the second and simultaneously more worried.

What if Rachel wanted to move in with them? Max didn't think she could stand listening to them going at it every night—she spared Rachel a glance—then again she wasn't even sure that they had even… But Alec is Alec and I can't see him practising abstinence 'til she's all good 'n ready. On the other hand, he did love Rachel so maybe he would… Max hastily stopped the thought right there and told herself that she didn't care.

But what if Rachel wanted Alec to… move in with her? Max finally understood that saying about swallowing a can full of worms. She'd rather have Rachel staying with them.

Planting a hand on her hip, Max cocked a brow expectantly. "I Don't have all night, Alec."

Rachel frowned a little at that. She could never quite understand Max and Alec's antagonistic relationship. Though Max supposed that was probably the only reason she hadn't said anything about the pair living together before.

"Uh." Alec, looked somewhat annoyed himself now. Eyes strangely intense as they locked on Max.

Though the thing that struck Max the strongest was that he seemed almost shy. That was an adjective Max had never before associated with the smartass she'd named 'Alec.' Although, she supposed it was only right. Since Alec wasn't really Alec whenever he was around Rachel. He became someone else—someone of class. Who was more likely to have mixed in the same circles as Logan once upon a time.

"I actually wanted to ask you if you'd be my best man—uh, woman," Alec finally managed. "Rachel and I are getting married."

--x&x--

Where did time go? Max wondered, distractedly as she peered out over sleeping city of Seattle from the Space Needle.

It had become her sanctuary over the past few years—more so these past couple of months. It was her place of solitude; to think or simply sit quietly, away from the rest of the world when she needed the space. She imagined it was to her what it had been for Ben in his short stay. Offering a sense of freedom when all around she had seen nothing but an elaborate cage. Social order, rules and regulations—the list went on. Sometimes she thought Ben had been right and Zack got it wrong. That maybe they should have stayed in Manticore, after thoughts like that she immediately berated herself, remembering that at least this time she had a choice.

And she'd made hers.

She was at the chapel several hours later, wishing that she was anywhere but there. Everything was already getting to her.

The stained glass windows of the small chapel that had been selected creating little rainbows on the hard-polished wooden floor—the exact same shade as the pews—a deep dark red-brown that reminded Max fleetingly of blood. Broken only by the thick white and gold ribbons that were strung along the aisles with beautiful garlands.

The flowers; large elegant bouquets of lilies, roses; white and the faint pastel pinks, apricots and peaches—wrapped in gorgeous organza ribbons then placed about. The larger bunches rested in the corner of the chapel, where the occasional ivy piece was allowed to curl about the marble stand it had been set upon, breaking the soft colours with its vibrant green. Filling the room with their combined flora scents.

It was a far cry of the things that Max was used to, or even Alec for that matter. Though not overly showy, for this day and age it screamed wealth. The contrast between where she lived and here so stark that it reminded Max that she didn't really belong in this world—all glitz and glamour when not acting some part—and neither did Alec.

Speaking of Alec, she grumped stalking into the chapel's small adjoining dorm room that Alec was using for last minute 'primping.'

Why had Alec chosen her as his best man? Yeah, she was his best friend but couldn't he have chosen someone else? Someone who wouldn't be forced to fight their upchuck reflex by looking around the room? He could have chosen Joshua—no, he should have chosen Joshua—the big guy would have been ecstatic. But Joshua couldn't come, they couldn't risk the exposure and for all of Rachel's understanding, she had never gotten over the fact that Joshua looked so different.

Max doubted most of the guests would have been any better.

"So," Alec began, carefully fiddling with his tie in front of the full-length mirror. His voice was strangely neutral but somehow managed to echo within the confined space of the room. "Jet?"

She couldn't be certain, but she thought she detected a hint of jealousy in his words. Then dismissed the notion, not wanting to hope. She swallowed and tried to think of something to say in her defence and came up with nothing. I'm gonna kick Jet's ass, Max vowed mutely, instead. Forgoing the self-defence and planning the attack. Jet had sworn not to say a word to anyone and then went and babbled the moment her back was turned? The traitor.

"Mole told me," Alec continued, as though reading her mind and his eyes met her's in the mirror. They looked dark.

How the hell does Mole know? Max paled. God, do they all know?

"Heard you pulled in a decent haul this time."

It took half a second for the information to sink in and Max relaxed, feeling remarkably stupid for jumping to conclusions. Of course Mole knew about the heist with Jet. She had no reason to think that they knew about the extra activities that the pair did on the side. Jet was something of a loner, so very few people would notice him missing from Oak Street. It worked well for everyone.

She shrugged. "Will keep Dix entertained for good while."

"Yeah," Alec agreed slowly. Almost sounding unhappy by her answer. "You still haven't answered me, Maxie. Why Jet?"

She wasn't sure what to make of his enquiry and sudden animosity towards the other X5. From his previous question, she was under the impression he was ignorant to what her and Jet had been doing—not that it was any of Alec's business or not—still she did think he may take it as a sort of betrayal, of sorts. After all this time there were still some things that she didn't get about Alec—but she was almost certain this would be one of them. Like a blow to his pride, or something.

"Why not?" Max questioned, feigning detachment. "You guys were units mates for a bit in Manticore and if what everyone says is true, almost considered friends. You said yourself that the guy was good, why not take Jet?"

He glanced away and muttered something even she couldn't quite catch.

"What was that?"

"I said, I would have gone with you," he voiced, glaring at her now. Tie all but forgotten. "Bray would have been a better choice than Jet was, anyway."

Not about to inform Alec that Bray was in no shape to move after the botched retrieval three days ago let alone help her on the last heist she had pulled, Max set about fixing Alec's tie. Almost giving in to the urge to tighten the silk until it choked him. "Whatever," she said, dismissively. "Bray's recently 'mated' himself to Rena and I doubt she'd be happy leaving him alone with me. Jet was good enough to take along."

"I'll bet it helps that he jumps through hoops tryin' to impress you," he muttered.

"Has no sway at all," Max denied.

She hadn't even noticed, so she wondered how Alec possibly had when she had only seen him a handful of times since his betrothal to Rachel. Since he had left them all behind. Shoving the thought away Max straightened out his tux, feeling the hard planes of his chest beneath the expensive material.

"Now get your ass moving, pretty boy. It's the bride who's meant to be late to the wedding—not the groom."

Pulling back she went for the door, only stopping when Alec's warm hand settled around her wrist. Ceasing all forward movement. That really shouldn't have made her heart flutter like that, but it did. Pathetic, she chastised herself.

"Max."

Glancing over her shoulder, Max eyed him askance. Not quite trusting herself to speak at that moment for fear of what she may reveal. Or do. She was meant to be there as his support.

He dropped her arm, looking for a second, miserable. "I'm sorry."

The apology could have been for anything. For him entering and screwing with her life so spectacularly; for not being there in the past months while the wedding was being organised and only showing up every now and then; forcing her to get another room mate because he was leaving her; not having her back when she had needed him—then again, it could simply have been from touching her.

Fighting with him just wasn't worth it. Not today. So she nodded vaguely, held her tears at bay and tugged him into the chapel. "Go get her," she encouraged, voice sounding slightly thick with emotion. She cleared her throat and smiled at him. It didn't quite reach her eyes.

Looking uncertain for a moment, Alec just stared at her then he nodded. Seemed to gather himself as he stood at the altar.

It'll be over soon, Max promised herself. Thinking longingly of her motorbike parked outside and the long overdue road trip.

The guests began filing into the neat little rows and the wedding march began soon after.

Rachel looked the way every glowing bride should look, walking down the aisle with her father at her side. Dressed in pristine ivory satin and lace. Her own dress was a muted charcoal with a modest cut and Max couldn't help comparing herself to the other girl. The contrasting colours and what they represented. Rachel; all innocence and sweetness and light. While Max was her antithesis. She'd never been innocent, nor sweet and definitely never light—Manticore had seen to that. Max was a wolf next to a lamb.

"Dearly Beloved," the priest began solemnly, once Rachel and her bridal party had reached the altar. "We are gathered together here in the sign of God…" The rest of his words were a meaningless blur to Max's mind as she shut down her thoughts as best as she could, until something of his speech penetrated the fog and he turned to Alec.

"Do you Alec McDowell, take Rachel Berrisford to be your wife – to live together after God's ordinance – in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?"

Alec hesitated and his eyes briefly fell on Max standing at his side.

She wasn't sure why he was looking to her, as though silently asking for her permission to proceed. Couldn't he see how much just being there was taxing her already? Max just wanted Alec to hurry up so she could get the hell out of there. She wasn't going to cry. That wasn't really her thing but her heart was definitely breaking, if it wasn't already completely in shards and emotions weren't something she dealt with all that well.

Finding the strength from somewhere deep within, she often him a fleeting smirk.

Then Alec turned away, eyes only for Rachel as he held her small hands in his and repeated after the priest.

Max thought she might be sick.

She blanked out the rest of the ceremony, allowing herself to run on autopilot as she fished out Rachel's ring from her dress and passed it to Alec. She didn't even notice when his hand brushed against her own, lingering a little longer than necessary as he took the ring. Nor did she notice the way he glanced at her again as he slid the platinum band around Rachel's finger and he pledged his undying love.

By six that night Max was long gone. Having slipped out after offering her congratulation during the reception. Her scant belongings—all that she'd chosen to take with her—packed and secured to the seat of her bike as she rode away into the setting sun. Seattle a speck in the distance of her rear view mirror.

It didn't matter that it may been seen as her running away again. For most of her life, it was all she had known. She didn't consider it running, however. It was bowing out to the victor while she went in search of herself. Back to her roots. Besides Ben, Zack and herself, from what she had heard her siblings had found a sense of peace out here in the world and it was about time she'd found it herself.

Max had heard once, that moving on wasn't the hardest part of making a decision as life altering as the one she'd chosen. She had to agree. With all her ghosts still free and lingering, nipping at her heel, moving on wasn't the hardest part—it was letting go.

Part one of three pieces. I'm still working on 'Artificial life' I've just reached a slight snag and am trying my best to figure out a way of overcoming it...
This story sorta smacked me on the head the other night and before I knew it, I had a brief outline forming of what I was wanting-and, it being so short and all figured "Why the heck not work on it?" I could have packed it with loads of UST but thought I'd leave that for a little later.

Hope you guys enjoy.

~Gen