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Title: No Cat In The Manger, I
Rating: PG
Show: Dark Angel
Characters/Pairing: OC/Alec friendship M/L, M/A implied
Word count: 733
Date first posted: April 2004.
Summary: OC talks to Alec during Max and Logan’s wedding.

Disclaimer: Don’t own, only playing, and making no profit
A/N: Thanks to Friday Angel for betaing – and any idiocies are mine.


No Cat In The Manger, I: shallowness

“You come bearing gifts!” Alec greeted OC as she sashayed towards his table with two glasses, one filled with champagne, the other scotch. The booze was flowing that night and she never believed in refusing such kind offerings.

“Only way of gettin’ you to give me some of your time,” she said complacently, depositing his glass at his elbow and smoothing her bronze dress as she took a chair.

“Why would you say that? I always have time for you,” he put on his most wheedling voice, swirling the scotch in the glass he was already holding for emphasis.

“Not tonight, you haven’t. Nor today, or before either, pretty boy. Wanted to check if I’d offended you.”

He still wouldn’t meet her eyes, even as he offered the usual.

“’Course not.”

“Good ‘cos I don’t believe in apoligisin’ for things I didn’t do.” OC stopped, trying to read his body language, unable to decide if he was finally relaxed because of the alcohol, or was projecting it. She looked away, deciding to use her instinct, not her eyes. The large hotel room was irregular in shape, with alcoves, a bar that looked half-finished and a perimeter of tables. Its heart was the dance-floor, and in it a lithe figure in white captivated everyone’s attention.

“Damn, my boo looks fine.” So much for subtlety.

“Happy,” he grunted.

“Relieved it went ok – no crisis needin’ her attention, no stumblin’ over her words.” OC said.

“Ignoring you bawling at the vows.” She swatted him but he ignored it and emptied his first glass. Of course, she doubted it was even close to being the first of the night.

“They were movin’.” He turned to look searchingly at her, as he smacked one glass down and picked up the other, and then rolled his eyes at her.

“Yeah, Logan’s a real writer.”

“Well there was no way my boo was gonna vow to love, honor’n obey him so what’s a guy to do?”

“Pick up a Valentine’s card and copy out the pretty poem?” His hazel eyes were still looking at her, but without their usual impudence.

“What would your vows be?”

“Don’t plan on having any – and if I did I wouldn’t tell you in case you decide to plagiarize my ass,” he smirked. She swatted him again. Damn, she was turning into Max.

“You might meet-“

“Why does everyone assume I’m gonna meet someone and settle down? That that’s what I need to be happy? I’m a tomcat, OC, I don’t settle!” He ended rather ridiculously, acting drunk, waving his arms for emphasis.

“Because you ain’t happy,” she quietly replied. “And I been around Terminal City long enough to see other X-5s settle – find mates.”

“Good for them, I say, but not for me.”

She bit her lip, wanting to throw out a plea that he stop being so flippant.

“So why aren’t you pickin’ up some hot stuff tonight?” she asked flatly.

“Maybe I’m being selective.”

“I been looking too, there’s plenty of honeys up to yo’ standards.”

“Only looking? That’s no way to find twu wuv,” he mocked.

“In these heels I ain’t lookin’ to hook up, ‘sides, I got obligations to Max.”

His voice changed directly, bonhomie shattering with anger.

“Did she send you to check up on me?”

OC slowly shook her head.

“Nope, my boo swallowed your hug and congratulations. She thinks-”

“She only has eyes for the groom,” he snarked in a worse facsimile than ever of his usual smart-aleck self.

“I’m sorry.”

For once her sincerity worked, or maybe he just got tired which was why he turned to look at her.

“I’m all right, Cin. Like I always am.”

The faintest, saddest smile of sympathy appeared on her face, and she lifted her hand to rub the top of his arm exactly where she’d smacked him a few minutes ago.

“You already found a girl, but she didn’t know.” His eyes shuttered, but she kept talking. “I understand what it’s like to want who you can’t have.”

“She’s happy tonight,” he said tightly.

“She’s beautiful when she smiles,” OC dropped her hand. Then her voice changed. “You gonna tell me what is Mole looking like that for? Are they gonna wreck the goin’ away?” End of conversation, she willed him to understand, to trust her.

“Not telling,” he smirked, raising his glass for a deep, deep drink.

-diwedd-
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