DA: Tempus Fugit
Jul. 3rd, 2007 07:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Tempus Fugit
Author:
ghani_atreides
Rating: PG
Word Count: 438
Disclaimer: I do wish I owend Alec, but I don't. Neither do I own anybody else you can recognize. Okay? Okay.
Summary: Time was a self-centered bastard.
Logan had lost all of his rights to Max’s lower back. And he didn’t even know when exactly had that happened. He just knew that one morning, Alec was sitting slightly closer to her and she wasn’t ramming on his ass for his daring. And from that moment, they became even more inseparable.
Running a nation together -and Logan was way beyond fooling himself into believing that Alec’s part wasn’t as important as Max’s- meant that there was a lot of Max and Alec everywhere, all the time. Any decision had to be ran by both, which created conflicts on a regular basis, conflicts he fed from, because as long as Alec kept getting on her nerves, Max would keep coming back to him, looking for comfort and peace.
Logan was happy with that arrangement. He won, Alec lost. Good deal. Problem was, that one day Max wasn’t complaining about Alec’s ways anymore, in fact she wasn’t complaining about him at all. She ranted about the virus, the army’s renewed attempts at getting inside Terminal City, the angry mobs that just refused to get a life. And another hundred things more. But not Alec.
He should have seen it then; he should have done something about it when he still could cut this thing from the bud. He should have made his move when he still had time. Now it was too late.
Alec’s hand was still on her lower back, moving ever-so-slightly higher, hitching her shirt up half an inch.
And Logan was nearly seething, but his anger wasn’t entirely directed at Alec, he was pissed at Max too, for letting the rouge X5 come between them, and apparently into her bed; he was pissed at himself for not seeing what was right there in front of him.
But he was particularly murderous toward Time itself, for going by so fast, for tricking him into believing that he still had plenty, when in reality he had ran out of it. Max was giving her time to someone else now, and, unlike Logan, Alec was making the most of it.
It was Alec's time now. And in all honesty, all Logan could do was hope that the younger man kept present that Time is unforgiving and stops for no one. Not even a man in love.
***
Fin.
Author:
![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 438
Disclaimer: I do wish I owend Alec, but I don't. Neither do I own anybody else you can recognize. Okay? Okay.
Summary: Time was a self-centered bastard.
Alec’s hand was on her back, not on her shoulder as a friend’s would be, no, it was resting heavily on her lower back, right there where her shirt hitched up just a tad, just enough to hint the smoothness of the skin it hid, the skin Alec could touch –was touching- and he couldn’t.
Logan had lost all of his rights to Max’s lower back. And he didn’t even know when exactly had that happened. He just knew that one morning, Alec was sitting slightly closer to her and she wasn’t ramming on his ass for his daring. And from that moment, they became even more inseparable.
Running a nation together -and Logan was way beyond fooling himself into believing that Alec’s part wasn’t as important as Max’s- meant that there was a lot of Max and Alec everywhere, all the time. Any decision had to be ran by both, which created conflicts on a regular basis, conflicts he fed from, because as long as Alec kept getting on her nerves, Max would keep coming back to him, looking for comfort and peace.
Logan was happy with that arrangement. He won, Alec lost. Good deal. Problem was, that one day Max wasn’t complaining about Alec’s ways anymore, in fact she wasn’t complaining about him at all. She ranted about the virus, the army’s renewed attempts at getting inside Terminal City, the angry mobs that just refused to get a life. And another hundred things more. But not Alec.
He should have seen it then; he should have done something about it when he still could cut this thing from the bud. He should have made his move when he still had time. Now it was too late.
Alec’s hand was still on her lower back, moving ever-so-slightly higher, hitching her shirt up half an inch.
And Logan was nearly seething, but his anger wasn’t entirely directed at Alec, he was pissed at Max too, for letting the rouge X5 come between them, and apparently into her bed; he was pissed at himself for not seeing what was right there in front of him.
But he was particularly murderous toward Time itself, for going by so fast, for tricking him into believing that he still had plenty, when in reality he had ran out of it. Max was giving her time to someone else now, and, unlike Logan, Alec was making the most of it.
It was Alec's time now. And in all honesty, all Logan could do was hope that the younger man kept present that Time is unforgiving and stops for no one. Not even a man in love.
***
Fin.