This here will be my first one-shot in a collection of unrelated Max-Mike stories. Just some random musings. This one is set in episode 2x8, when Mike stays over at Ryan's apartment and Max sits with him as he grieves. Enjoy!

"Are you okay?"

"Not really."

"Do you want to talk?"

"Not really."

"Ok. We'll just sit here then."

With those words he looked at her, on the edge of breaking down, and saw that she was serious. She wasn't going to push him to open up, she wasn't going to leave him, but she was going to be the strength that he needed. The look on his face was a mix of gratitude, grief, and something else she couldn't put her finger on.

She was good at this, he thought. She was there for him; wasn't staring him down, but not looking bored off into the distance at the same time. He felt so comfortable collecting himself in her presence and the firmness of her voice earlier let him know that right then, there was nowhere else she would rather be. He let out a big breath he had been holding and sat back in the chair. He couldn't say how long he sat like that, leaning back in the armchair with her sitting on the edge of the couch, patiently waiting. Waiting for what, he didn't know.

It was nice to have someone to just sit with. He was always alone with his thoughts, or felt that way at least. All the times he ever tried to talk to Ryan, the openness was never reciprocated and he would walk away feeling like a fool. Even knowing it was safe to open up to Max, or at least to cry in front of her, Mike didn't want to think that hard about his own feelings. He knew it would be too painful. Too much. Instead he replayed moments of his father's death over and over: the video, telling his mother, the looks of his brothers, the funeral.

He fisted his hands and looked up at the ceiling, blinking over and over to fight the tears that were trying to fall. Little by little, he stopped thinking about the anger and focused more on the pain. He hated it. Anger was easier to handle for him, as he had found in the past year. It was easier to feel hatred than to allow the pain and grief to take him over, but he was losing that battle right there in Ryan's living room in front of Max. He took some deep breaths, focusing on his breathing and glanced over at Max, who was still sitting on the couch, who met his glance and gave him a small smile, telling him it was going to be okay.

Glancing over at the clock, Mike realized how late it was and suddenly felt awful for keep Max up so late when she had yet to go back to her apartment. He could feel her eyes on him as he stood up, but refused to make eye contact again yet.

"I, uh, I'm sorry it's so late, you probably want to get home," Mike stuttered out as he jumped up from the armchair. From the corner of his eye he could see her shaking her head in disagreement.

"Mike, I'm here for whatever you need. I'll stay if you want me to," she replied, still nervous that he wasn't coping well. "Do you want me to go?"

Honestly, he didn't know. Mike paced around a little, never looking directly at Max. She was too good at reading his face and he didn't know what cards he wanted to show her. Then he remembered that she knew what he was going through and he didn't have to hide. He stopped right in front of the couch and looked down at Max, who looked back up at him. He sat down next to her, putting his head in his hands before resting his elbows on his knees and turned his head to look at her. Did he want her to go?

"Not really."

Ryan walked out of his room on his way to start the coffee for him and Mike, but stopped mid-step. He thought Max had left after she made up the couch for Mike; he wasn't expecting her to still be here, and he definitely wasn't expecting what he was looking at. And even though he knew that it couldn't be more than platonic, he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Max was lying on her back with Mike on his side squeezed between her and the back of the couch. His head was on her breasts and hand on her stomach, covered by one of hers while her other hand rested on the side of his rib cage. It was a classic comforting hold between two people.

Just then, Mike started to stir. His hand on Max's stomach moved around her side to bring her closer and he nuzzled her chest unconsciously. Ryan stood in the doorway watching them for a moment then decided to slip away back into his room to give them some privacy. He didn't want to be around to witness any more of the intimate moment between his partner and niece.

Unbeknownst to Mike and Ryan, Max had been awake for a while. She couldn't put a label on what she was feeling, all she knew was that she liked being wrapped up with Mike and she was going to enjoy feeling him against her for as long as she could. Unconsciously, she moved a hand up to his head and moved her fingers through his hair. She froze instantly then closed her eyes and pretended to be sleeping when she felt him move atop of her. Mike woke up feeling arms around him, an unfamiliar feeling for a long time, but it was nice. Before he even opened his eyes, he knew who it was. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume on her skin from yesterday and could feel her long, thin fingers woven in his hair.

When Mike finally opened his eyes and tilted his head upward, he saw Max sleeping and just stared. Gosh, she was beautiful. Hearing movement in Ryan's bedroom, he decided he needed to get up before Ryan walked in on them, but as much as his mind told him to get up, his body didn't move. He propped himself up on his elbow and used his free hand to move a piece of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear and leaving his palm cupping her face. If she had opened her eyes, she would have seen a look of sincere tenderness on his face as he leaned closer to face. She could feel his breath on her cheek, but didn't dare move.

"Thank you for last night, Max," he whispered into her ear before lightly pressing a soft kiss to her temple. It took everything in her not to react outwardly, so she lay there and tried to process what had just happened. With that, he started to carefully push himself off of her, slipping out from under the blanket he didn't remember putting around them. She chose that moment to let him know she was awake.

Pretending to slowly wake up from the movement of the couch as he got up, she opened her eyes and called out for him. "Mike?" she said, the sleep still making her voice thick. His head snapped over to look at her, but he remained sitting on the edge of the couch as she lay there.

"Hey," he said back, helping her sit up.

"How are you doing?" she asked tentatively. He dropped his eyes to the floor and gave her question some serious thought. Was he good? Not really.

"I'm better," he replied. "Not great, but getting better." She nodded. Neither made a move to get off the couch until the sound of an opening door made them both spring up. The fact that they had literally slept together in Ryan Hardy's living room hit both of them like a brick.

"Uh, I, uh, should probably go home real quick," Max sputtered out, and Mike busied himself with gathering the blankets and pillows in a pile.

"You sure you don't want to grab a cup of coffee before you go?" Ryan said, raising an eyebrow as he stood in the doorway, almost enjoying the awkward exchange.

"Yeah, no, I'm good. I, uh, I gotta go," she said with a little laugh, turning around to grab her purse which was on the end of the table. Right as she turned around, her body collided with Mike's, who immediately grabbed her around the waist to steady her. They both froze for a split second before they scrambled to release one another. She took step back and he reached behind him to grab her purse, handing it to her, avoiding eye contact as he did.

"I'm just going to stop home real quick and I'll be back to go over what we have so far," Max said as she made her way to the door. The two men just watched her leaving, Ryan with an unimpressed look on his face, Mike still in shock over the fact that they fell asleep together. "Ryan, Mike," she said as her goodbye, slamming the door behind her she took off, hand on her forehead as she walked quickly down the hall. She fell asleep with Mike Weston on her uncle's couch, and he kissed her face when he thought she was asleep. God, her heart shouldn't be beating this fast.

Back in the apartment, Mike was staring at the door and Ryan at Mike. Mike jumped when Ryan's voice broke the silence. "She forgot her coat." Mike's head shot over to the kitchen chair to see her jacket handing off of it.

"Yeah, I'll just, uh, be right back," he said, never more nervous in front of Ryan in his life. Ryan watched him with hard eyes that Mike successfully avoided meeting as the younger man grabbed the coat from the chair and made a break for the front door. Ryan was starting to question just how platonic things were between them.

"Max!" Mike called out, jogging down the hallway to where she was waiting by the elevator. She turned and watched him come to her, slowing his pace as he got closer.

"You, uh, forgot your coat," he lamely explained, extending the coat to her. She slowly reached for it, looking at his face trying to figure out what he was thinking. They continued to just look at one another for a moment.

"Ryan is going to kill you," she finally said with a small smile, thankful that it made him smile back. The two laughed awkwardly, knowing full well that there was no way Ryan would let this morning go.

"Yeah, he will," Mike agreed, nervously smiling. He was mesmerized by the way she bit her lip as she tried to hold back her smile. They both were startled by the ding of the elevator. The doors opened and Max stepped in, turning back around to see him propped against the wall with one arm up. "I'll see you in a little bit," he said. She nodded.

"Yeah, I'll see you soon," she said back as the doors started closing. She saw him open his mouth to say something as the doors were closing, but he didn't get it out in time. Once the elevator started going down, Max leaned back against the wall and tried to catch her breath. It was hard to put the pieces together of last night – everything blurred together of how they went from sitting on separate couches to waking up intertwined. And although she knew that there was nothing sexual about last night – it was all about comforting Mike – she also knew that things between them were changing.

Mike hit his fist against the wall, silently cursing himself for not speaking up when he had the change. He stayed staring at the closed elevator door for a beat before he pushed himself off the wall and made his way back down the hall to Ryan's apartment. He walked back in to see Ryan in the kitchen, brewing coffee and dropping bread into the toaster. Ryan pretended to not notice that Mike came back in, and Mike just stared at him, unsure of what to say.

"Ryan…" he started, feeling his stomach turn when the older man looked at him with a look that told Mike that he didn't really care what Mike had to say because he had already made his mind up about whatever it was he was thinking. "Ryan, that wasn't what it looked like."

"It looked like you slept with my niece," Ryan said nonchalantly, grabbing the fresh toast and pulling butter out of the refrigerator. Mike started fidgeting.

"Well, yeah, but not like that. We were just sitting and then somehow we were laying, but it wasn't anything like, you know," he said trailing off, scratching his head.

"I don't know, Mike, so if you could clarify what it wasn't, that'd be appreciated," Ryan said dryly.

"Come on, Ryan! I wasn't making a move on her, okay? I promise you, I'm not trying to get in her pants –" he was cut off by Ryan immediately.

"The hell you're not! Look, Mike, I know you're upset. Your hurt and angry, but I swear, if you're using Max to sort out whatever the hell is going on with you, I will personally kill you, do you understand?" Mike was taken back by the sharp iciness in Ryan's voice. He nodded.

"I'm not using her. I don't want to hurt her, Ryan, I swear." Something in Mike's voice, maybe how tender and sad it was, caused Ryan to relax his shoulders and let out a deep breath. He nodded and looked away as he finished buttering the toast, tossing two pieces towards Mike.

"Eat up, we got a big day ahead of us. And take a shower. I can smell Max's perfume on you and it's making me nauseous," Ryan tried to say lightly with a tight smile. Mike nodded as he shoved a piece of toast in his mouth, walking over to the bathroom without another word. Ryan leaned against the counter and dropped his head, sighing. He had sensed a small spark between the two from the beginning, but he hadn't expected things to develop. He could see it – Mike was starting to fall for Max. He took a gulp of his coffee and shook his head. This could only end one way.

So there it is, my first story for The Following. I just finished season 2 and am obsessed with Max and Mike's budding relationship and how Ryan might handle. I'm hoping to have time to write more one-shots to make a collection of them, though they'll all be unrelated and out of order. Please leave a review! I love hearing what readers think. Feel free to leave suggestions about future one-shots!

Xoxo fanatic218