Archive of Our Own ^beta

They're resting on a beach, waves lapping slowly in a comforting pattern. It's as close to peace as Mac thinks he's ever experienced. Except for one thing. He pushes himself up to look at the man lying next to him, "Alright, Murdoc, I know a vacation for us is almost never a vacation, and we're both bad at relaxing, but that's not what this is about. Is it?" 

This was the cloud of something malignant that's been hovering over Murdoc since they'd met up for this getaway. Mac had been trying to ignore it, Murdoc would either mention it or work through it, he didn't always liked to be pushed until he'd fully thought his way through an issue.

"Do you think we'd be happy together if we could get married?" 

"I'm pretty sure we can get married. Gay marriage has been the law of the land for like a decade." That was true, but Mac wasn't convinced that's what the problem was. Something else was gnawing at Murdoc's thoughts. 

Murdoc pushed himself up to a sitting position shaking his head lightly to dislodge the sand from his hair. "Well, that's true in the USA. But there are several other issues I can think of. For example, technically, I don't exist, I'm not a US citizen, and also, I'm currently married." 

"What, Murdoc, what do you mean? You're still married? I thought Amber was your ex-wife." 

"Does she seem like someone you can politely ask to sign divorce papers?"

That was actually a remarkably good point. Even the briefest thought of asking a lawyer to serve divorce papers was terrifying. "Oh."

They're silent for a second before a realization catches Mac, "I'm sorry? Does that make me the mistress?" 

"Hmmm. Technically, probably not. I don't think that's very gender-affirming of me to say." Murdoc is grinning, a bright grin that catches Mac off-guard the same as it always does. Murdoc's genuine smile is a rare thing, he's usually partial to something that more closely resembles a predator about to strike then an expression of happiness. 

Mac rolls his eyes dramatically and considers flicking sand at his lover, "....So I'm definitely the mistress, and you're being clever about not wanting to say it." 

"You said it, my dear, not me."

They sit on the beach for a moment, sharing small grins and laughter as they watch the seagulls chase each other through the breeze. But Mac knows the man next to him enough now to know when he's being intentionally distracted. 

"Ok, spit it out then. What's eating you? It's not trying to get Amber to sign paperwork, is it?" 

"Angus, do you think we could be happy?" Murdoc says it so quietly Mac can barely hear the fragile tremor his partner is trying to hide in his voice. 

"Married? Or as people?" 

"Either, married, maybe?" Murdoc pushes himself up to sit to look out at the waves, "Between us, we were raised by two fallen-apart marriages of horribly awful people, and then I went and collected a failed marriage of my own." 

The question hung between them as delicate as the rare moment of fragility from the assassin. It was so rare, these moments where Murdoc allowed himself to be completely unguarded around Mac. Trust was something hard-earned in both of their worlds, vulnerability even more so.

Mac takes a deep breath, not wanting to make a joke in response to Murdoc's sudden vulnerability, "I think I don't want to find out. I'm already happy with you like this. It would be nice if we never had to hide if we didn't have to sneak around if I wasn't lying to everyone I know when we meet up." He reaches out to tangle his fingers with Murdoc, "But, I don't love you because you could settle down in a house with a white picket fence one day; I love you because of everything you are now. I love the ways you watch out for me even or maybe because you kill people to keep me safe, I love that you trust me to do my own dangerous job, I love your passion and the ways you totally don't have favorite guns, and I love the way you clawed your way into your career from nothing. If we had our little white picket fence, you wouldn't be that person and I wouldn't be the person I am either."

"You'd be terrible at it; being good at settling down and being able to disarm a nuclear reactor meltdown with pocket change are a little incompatible, my dear." 

The waves had started to come closer and closer to them through the conversation as the tide starts to roll in. "You know, Murdoc, forget about the future. I'm happy right now with you."