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Alex spent a lot of time with Liz's guards; she had five, because Max was overprotective. Generally, one of them stood watch outside the lab that Michael and Liz sequestered themselves into, and the rest of them played cards.
Alex honestly wasn't sure why he needed a personal bodyguard, given Michael rarely left the large building many of its inhabitants affectionately referred to as the castle. Sure, his boss Jenna Cameron said the man could be difficult with rules, but Alex hadn't had a problem.
About once a month, Alex accompanied Michael to the nearest college for seminars on subjects like quantum mechanics, planetary bodies, and, memorably, time itself. He liked to wander around campus afterwards, get lunch, then head home. He seemed to like talking to Alex well enough. (Even if Alex had jokingly asked the first time if he had to worry about angry dealers, considering the lab set up. Michael, at least, was mainly amused and only slightly offended.)
Twice they went to galas thrown by Isobel, and Alex joined the other guards lining the walls. There wasn't much to see, so Alex mainly watched his charge, who admittedly looked really good in the suit his sister had wrangled him into.
Eight months of this, no change.
They attended another seminar, this one about black holes, and strolled around campus aimlessly, where Michael found a brightly colored flyer taped to a light pole.
"Pride Festival," he read. "Next week. That sounds way more fun than a gala. What do you think, Alex? Pride?"
Alex unintentionally flinched.
Michael stood taller, as if he was trying to inflate himself. It didn't have much effect since Alex had a good inch on him. "What? Something wrong with pride?"
"No, no, I just... don't have a lot left."
He softened immediately, a small frown on his face rather than his previously aggressive expression. "What do you mean?"
Alex shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You want to go? I have heard they're fun."
"Yeah! But I don't have to wear body paint, right?"
"Pretty sure you're allowed to be as low key or high key as you want."
"Have you ever been to one?" Michael asked as he took a photo of the flyer with his phone.
"Not a lot of opportunity overseas," Alex said.
"Right, right, sorry, Private."
"I was an Airman," he told him.
Michael smiled apologetically. "So you want to go with me?"
"Guerin, I'm literally your bodyguard. If you're going, so am I."
"Aw, and here I thought you just liked me enough to always volunteer to come with me." Michael considered him for a moment. "Figures, you're way out of my league. But if you don't want to go, I don't want you to be flinching left and right."
"What?"
"Because of Pride? You full-body flinched when I first read it, Alex. "
He had been asking about the league comment, which was strange enough coming from royalty (even if it was some tiny country no American had ever heard of) let alone someone as pretty as Michael. "Pride, yeah, that's, you know, a conditioned reaction," he said uncomfortably. "I'm still getting used to... other people being fine with queer people. Learned to expect the worst a long time ago."
Michael blinked at him a few times and was suddenly hugging him. "Well, I'm more than fine with you."
Now Alex was more confused, but he patted Michael's back until he pulled away. "Thank you?"
"I only meant that if you think it's going to be a bad time for you, I can ask Cam for someone else to come with me."
"Oh. No, that's not necessary, but thanks for the consideration."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. It won't be a problem for me, and you'll have fun."
Michael beamed at him, and the rest of their day and week continued as normal.
The day of the festival, Alex waited outside Michael's room in his usual gear. Michael, on the other hand, came out in a new pink, purple and blue t-shirt, along with his black cowboy hat, saved for special occasions. (Somehow, it always went missing right before any of Isobel's parties.)
"What do you think?" he asked, spreading his arms.
Alex tilted his head with a smile. "You look proud to be bi."
"Thanks, I am." Michael looked him over. "You look like a bodyguard."
"Thanks, I am. Ready to go?"
Michael nodded and led the way out to the car.
Alex drove them, as usual, to the main event area, and Michael handed him cash to pay for parking. He parked and met Michael in front of the car. The festival was crowded, and Alex surveyed the people milling about the parking lot with a frown.
"What is it? Sketchy?" Michael asked.
"No. Just a ton of people. Stay close, okay?"
"Okay," he replied cheerfully, hooking their arms together; that wasn't what Alex meant at all, but he went with it anyway. "Let's go."
Michael tugged Alex over to the first booth, which had boxes of records set up to look through.
They systematically went to every booth, and Michael bought something at every single one. "Alex," he called as he examined enamel pins in one tent. He picked up one to match his shirt. "Do you want one?"
Alex left the entrance to join him with a small smile. Each pin was a different pride flag. "Mm, I don't need one."
"But do you want one?"
"I'd probably never wear it."
Michael rolled his eyes. "But do you want one?"
Alex reached out to touch a nine-stripe flag pin. It was cool to the touch. He'd never owned anything rainbow in his life, especially not anything so explicitly for pride. In the end, he shook his head and went back to holding up the tent at the entrance.
A minute later, Michael had bought his own pin and pressed the rainbow one into Alex's hand. "Support local artists, right? Even if you never wear it."
He smoothed his thumb over the pin's face. "Thank you." He nearly dropped it in his pocket until he saw that Michael had pinned his to his hat. Alex pulled his shirt open enough to attach the pin.
"Looking good, Private!"
Well, if it made Michael so happy, he supposed it was worth the hypervigilance spike he'd no doubt get. Alex smiled back and offered his arm, which Michael gladly took.
The spike didn't come. Rather, Alex was enjoying himself, even for working. It was a remarkably safe festival, both in terms of actual threats and the way Alex felt.
As they watched the parade, a short woman bounced up to them with a camera in her hands. "Kiss cam?" she said, holding it up.
Alex only squinted at her, but Michael turned and kissed his cheek. Alex couldn't help but smile; he could feel the turn of Michael's lips, and his glee was contagious.
The woman snapped a picture and looked down at it. "Aw, sweet. Thank you!"
"You're welcome," Michael said, grinning. "Is that all right, Alex?"
"You're so weird," he said, gently pushing his face away and ignoring the speed of his heartbeat. "Yeah, it's fine. Not gonna end up in the tabloids, right?"
The woman gasped. "No way. I'm making a banner for next year. The pictures will be tiny." She skipped away to find another couple.
Michael poked Alex in the arm. "I meant, is it okay that I kissed you? Are you gonna have to protect me from your boyfriend or something?"
Alex rolled his eyes. "Like I have time for a boyfriend looking after you. I don't think it was appropriate, but I know you just wanted to make her happy, so it's fine."
He huffed. "I didn't want to make you unhappy in the process."
Alex glanced at him. "I'm not. I said it's fine, Guerin. Don't worry about it."
"Okay," he said, and he dropped his head to Alex's shoulder to watch the rest of the parade. As the last of the floats marched by, he asked, "Why's it inappropriate?"
Alex blinked, drawn out of scanning their surroundings. "Because you pay me?"
"Uh, Max pays you, I have nothing to do with the staffing financials." He shook his big paper bag of things. "Just the buying cool stuff financials."
"Whatever the case, I'm being paid to protect you, not anything else. That's what I have to focus on."
"Damn."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Damn?"
Michael turned and began to head back to the car, still arm in arm. "I imagine you're a good kisser. Dunno why. Shame, really."
"Oh, I am," Alex assured him. So he did have some pride, it turned out. He opened the passenger side door of the car for him.
"Thanks, Private." Michael winked and dropped into the seat.
Alex replied from the driver's seat, "Sure. You were right. It was fun."
"Ah, yeah! We should go out more."
"Whatever you want, Guerin."
Two months later, Michael began to receive death threats in the mail, which really put a damper on them going out more.