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Alex stepped out of the truck, smiling at Michael who stood a few yards, his own smirk on his lips as he started to met Alex in the middle.
He'd spent the day at Deep Sky going over his findings with Ramons, leaving out certain details, such as the genocidal alien on the lose and that Alex had gotten some of his information about the machine from a memory plucked from Maria's mind.
Ramons and Alex had both agreed to run some tests on the machines to see what damage it did and why it seemed to talk to people who worked on it.
“So what dish did you whip up,” Alex asked.
Normally after work, he’d grab some food at the diner or anywhere else that was open.
Today he and Michael were going to sit down and eat together.
It seemed like such a small thing; normal couples didn’t even think about it; it was inconsequential. But for them, it was something they had never had a chance to do, an option that had never been giving to them before. Michael placed a quick kiss on Alex’s lips, taking his hand and leading him over to the workshop where the large bench was situated. Alex sat down on the stool, smiling as Michael stared off to the side, two paper bags landing in front of them.
Alex raised his brow, Michael sitting across from him, his arms crossed on the table. Alex reached out, opening the bag and peeking in.
His brows raised, “No way,” He smiled.
Michael nodded, grinning as he opened his own bag, “Yes, way,” Michael grinned, pulling out the Biscochitos cookie from the pack.
Alex stared down at the cookie, “She still makes these?” He asked.
“She sure does, only the best for my man”, Alex laughed, ducking his head and feeling the warmth on his cheek, the words ‘my man’ on repeat in his mind.
“Gosh, we used to eat so many of these as kids,” Alex said, taking a bite.
“It was the only placed you’d let us stop at,” Michael said. When Alex and Michael used to disappear into the desert, they’d go as far as they could without leaving Roswell. Along the way, they spotted a small bakery, small enough they didn’t think they’d see anyone in there and far enough from home not to lead to any chance encounters; it became their spot.
The smile fell from Alex's lips slightly, the anxiety and pain from those times still twitching under the surface.
On the way to their spot, they’d stop off, Michael would go in and buy as many as he could, load the truck up with biscuits and coffee and they'd sit under the sun until their time ran out.
“Remember that day she gave us those free milkshakes,” Michael laughed.
Alex did too, “Yeah, and those cakes, damn, they were good,” Alex said.
They just smiled at each other for a moment, content in the small, fragile world they have created for one another, “Pretty awesome date,” Michael said, biting his lower lip.
“Date?” Alex asked.
Michael sat back on the stool, “I mean yeah,” He laughed, his brows knitting together, “Unless this is when you tell me we were just friends the entire time,” He asked, a pretend fear on his face like he already didn’t know the answer.
“I guess I was so distracted by my dad's shadow they didn’t feel like dates, I was always so worried he'd find us” Logically, he knew they were dates, but between looking over his shoulder the entire time and their deterring relationship, their time together then felt more like watching the clock counting down then a date.
“What are you doing Friday,” Michael asked, wiping his hands on his jeans as he finished his cookie.
“That depends on whether Jones has killed us by then,” He joked, earning a playful glare from Michael.
“Well, if he hasn’t,” Michael started, leaning closer over the table, “Let’s get dinner; not here or yours but somewhere-“
“Public,” Alex completed.
Michael’s smile grew, nodding a yes.
It was still a strange concept to Alex. They could go to a bar, cafe or restaurant, and no Manes men were hunting them down looking to destroy them. Alex wanted nothing more for them to be normal, but currently, that wasn’t their reality. Alex sighed, “We have so much going on-“
“-And we always will,” Michael said, leaning over and placing his hand on top of Alex’s, “I’m tired of waiting for the perfect moment; if your there, then it’s perfect,” Alex gave a teasing rolling of his eyes, Michael winking at him. Alex turned his hand around so they could lock fingers, each just content holding hands for a moment.
“Okay,” Alex said, “Friday it is.”
“When you go into work today, book a day off on Saturday,” Michael said, reaching into Alex’s bag to grab a cookie.
Alex cocked his head to the side, “Oh, you got big plans,” He smirked.
Michael pursed his lip for a moment, slightly swaying side to side on his stool, “I’m not really a fan of getting up early, and if you gotta get up at like 6am the next day, you’re going to wake me,” Michael said, one corner of his lip raised up in a cooky smile, one that made Alex feel like that 17-year-old all over again.
Alex leaned back on his stool, “What makes you think I’ll be here in the morning,” Alex said, trying hard to keep the mock-shooked look on his face. He took a bite of his cookie, “It is our first date, after all,”
Michael shook his head, leaning back on the chair, laughing. Michael reached across trying to take another one of Alex's cookies and Michael smacked his hand away, Michael giving a dramatic gasped before trying again.
They heard the crunch of the stones as someone walked across the lot. Both men looked over and saw Sanders walking towards them, two coffee’s in his hand.
“What,” Sanders grunted, placing them down on the table.
“Nothing, just didn’t know you knew how to make coffee,” He teased.
Sanders turned his head to Alex, pointing towards Michael, “Was he always such a wise-ass,” He asked.
“Pretty much,” Alex smirked.
Sanders picked a beer out of the box on the ground, “How’d you put up with it,” He asked Alex.
“Not loving this,” Michael called, Alex giving him a wink, “to think I brought you food.” He said to Alex, shaking his head.
Alex reached out, taking the coffee from the tray and sipping it slightly.
“How are your brothers doing Alex,” Walt asked.
Both Michael and Alex paused for a moment, both caught off guard by the question “Uh good, Greg’s helping out with the investigation, Flint is with clay working on unlearning the mass-murdering tendencies he got from daddy dearest,” Alex said, working hard to keep the bitterness from his tone.
Sanders nodded, sipping his beer, “Flint was always a good kid,” he remarked.
Alex swallowed hard, feeling Michael’s hand grip his tighter. Deep down, Alex knew Flint was good, that his father had twisted him into the man that had locked him in that basement, had tried to murder Max.
Sometimes though, it was nice to hear it from someone else.
“You knew him?” Michael asked.
“He’d bring Jesse’s car around here every now and then, always tipped good,”
“Well, according to Clay's monthly updates, he’s doing good, so I’m hoping that good kid is still in there,” He lamented.
The phone vibrating in his pocket brought the conversation to a halt; Alex quickly fished it out, clearing his throat before answer “Hey”, He said, listening as the lab technician from Deep Sky told him the lab results were back regarding the Lockhart machine, “I’ll be there soon,” He nodded, switching the phone off and slipping back into his jeans.
“Secret boy band,” Michael asked, sipping his coffee, his hands wrapped around the warm cup.
“They finished running the tests on the Lockhart machine,” He said. Alex slipped off the stool, drinking the rest of his coffee. He looked over at Michael, who watched him, “I’ll be careful”, He said, already predicting Michael’s words. Alex walked over to Michael, who was still seated, leaning down to place a kiss on his head, “Thanks for the food,” He said, his arm wrapping around Michael’s shoulder, “and thanks for the coffee Sanders,” Alex smiled.
The man nodded his head, tilting his hat forward.
Alex pulled his arm from Michael, the man standing from the stool and walking behind Alex, “See you soon, kid,” Sanders said to Alex, patting his shoulder as he walked past.
Michael and Alex walked across the lot, “Starting to think he prefers you to me,” Michael said, knocking his shoulder against Alex’s.
“I am charming,” Alex smirked.
“Don’t I know it,” Michael sighed as they reached Alex's car.
"I’ll call you later," Alex said, slipping into the car.
"Keep away from the mind-melting machine!" Michael said as he waved Alex off.
Michael watched the car drive away for a moment, his hands clenching next to him. Michael's grip grew tighter as the car disappeared completely.
Michael hated the idea of Alex being in the same building as the alien radio, and despite how complicated it would make it part of Michael was hoping Alex's boss would keep him away from the machine.
He started to head back to the counter where Walt was stood, still sipping his drink.
"I like him," Walter said, nodding to where Alex's truck had been.
"Is that why you asked about his brothers," Michael asked.
"Sorry for wanting to know more about your boyfriend," The man scoffed.
Michael leaned on the countertop, "How'd you know we were a thing," he asked.
When Sanders had said it the other day, he hadn't thought much about it, too lost in the events of the night. He'd never told Sanders about Michael; in fact, everyone that seemed to know about them seemed to work it out on their own.
"I could just sense it," Sanders said, sipping his beer. After a brief pause, the man laughed, shaking his head, "I saw him leaving your trailer in the morning, plus he hangs around here more than any normal person would," The man corrected.
Michael could count on one hand the number of times Alex had stayed at his trailer overnight, and they all occurred years ago.
The first time Alex had stayed over when he had just gotten back to Roswell, Michael remembered how hopeful he felt that things would finally work out, that this was their fresh start.
Then Isobel tuned up and everything unravelled and sent them the rocky journey they had been on for the last couple of years.
"What’s wrong," Sanders asked.
"We’re going out Friday for a date, a real one in public," He said, picking his own beer out of the box.
"And what’s wrong with that," The older man asked.
"Nothing", Michael smiled "it’s amazing; all I’ve wanted is for us to have a normal life together with first dates and arguments over furniture for our house or what dog to get,"
"I’ve seen your trailer; let him pick the furniture," Sanders muttered.
Normally Michael would laugh, give some witty response but the pit in his stomach swallowed the laugh, "What if that’s not possible," Michael asked, his voice low like he didn't want to know that answer.
"Why wouldn’t it be."
"Because every time we’ve gotten close to normal, we lose it," It was the cycle they had been stuck in for over 10 years, a sadistic game the world played with them, "Our families are just so tangled together in blood and torture I just...." Michael trailed off, looking over across the lot, "Jesse may be dead, but it still feels like he’s casting this shadow over us." The statue of Jesse, which was in the square, was relatively small, but someone it seemed to cover the town in a dark shadow, an invisible weight on all that knew him.
Michael knew Alex felt it too, and despite his father being gone, there was still a part of Alex that carried the burden of what his father had done. Every time they thought they had moved on from the past, it would find its way of sneaking into the present, "What if we’re just…." Michael pulled his eyes away from the lot and back over the sanders, the mans normally hard features softened, "broken,"
Sanders rocked on his heels for a moment before he finished his beet and started walking away, "Follow me, I wanna show you something," He called.
Despite not being in the mood for a show and tell, Michael followed the man, and a few moments later, they appeared at a car. Sanders nodded towards the car, its hood popped open, "Mr Peterson’s car, he said the engine won’t start,"
Michael screw his face up in confusion, "You seriously want me to work on this? now?" Michael asked.
"Just look at it," The man said.
Michael sighed, walking forward and examining the engine, "The engine coolant is leaking,", Michael said as he stared down into the machine.
"Okay, rip the engine out and fit another one," Sanders said, starting to walk away.
"What," Michael said, turning around to face the man.
Sanders crossed his arms over his chest, "You heard me; it isn’t working, so rip it out and put in a new one,"
"I just need a radiator, I can fix the leak; the whole engine isn't broke," Michael said.
"Huh," Sanders sighed, stepping closer to Michael, "So you're saying, just because something is broken doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed." Michael opened his mouth to state the obvious when he slowly shut it, the metaphor becoming transparent. Walt reached out, his hand laying on Michael's shoulder, "You don’t just toss something because it’s damaged Michael, you work at it, which can be hard, but eventually, it’ll purr." The man smiled.
Michael glanced over his shoulder to look at the broken engine. Engines were easy to fix; he knew what parts they needed, could see what needed to be changed or replaced, and he'd do it.
Relationships were different, complicated, he and Alex's being no exception. You can't just see issues and fix them, years of history tangled up in making everything complex.
"I know you two have been through a lot, hurt each and yourselves in the process," Walt said, "but most people spend their life looking up there praying for what you’ve got," Michael looked back at the man.
"You don’t walk away from a broken engine. You find a way to make it purr again." Michael took in a deep breath, nodding.
Michael and Alex had a whole lot more work to do than to change a radiator, but if the alternative was throwing everything away, Michael would do whatever it took to make them purr.
"When did you become such a poet," Michael smiled, Sanders playfully slapping Michael on the side of the arm.
"Speaking of engines," Sanders said, nodding towards the engine behind Michael.
Michael gave a small tut, "As much as I would like to fix that, I've gotta work out how to make this alien radio work and stop it from frying my boyfriends brain," Walt rolled his eyes, giving a nod as he walked over to the car himself.
As he was about to pass Michael, he turned, facing him, "Oh and," Sanders started, "When you're around him, you smile differently," He said, finally walking past Michael.
Michael smiled, starting to head back to his lab, "Your mom would’ve liked him too," Sanders quietly said.
Michael halted in his spot for a moment, taking a steadying breath as he kept walking. He looked around the lot; each spot held some different memory of him and Alex.
Alex telling Michael their kiss at the reunion had been a mistake.
Alex leaving his trailer the next morning as he spent the night.
Michael forgetting to met Alex after he had agreed to.
Memory after memory of mistakes they'd made, choices influenced by fear and trauma.
But there'd also been growth; Alex finding out who Michael truly was, Alex staying over in Michael trailer for the first time, their fireside chats where they worked together on something that normally pulled them apart.
They'd been times where Michael thought their relationship was broken beyond repair, that the pieces of themselves were scattered so far and were so damaged there was no hope for them.
But they always seemed to find their way back, and no matter how long it took, they managed to recover their broken pieces and create new ones.
They still had work to do, Michael knew that and knew their white picket fence life would require effort and commitment, but Michael was willing to give that and everything else he had.