Author's Note: I've decided to create a series called Cheer containing one-shots written around holidays or celebratory days. Apparently, I have a thing for these types of fics lol. They will be focused mainly on Max and Alex, with other characters making appearances. Please enjoy and if you have any holidays from your country you want featured, please let me know!

It was 2am and Alex finally lowered herself gingerly onto her couch, the relief of sitting down almost too much for her sore and broken body to handle. She wasn't moving for the rest of the night even if the city was invaded by aliens.

The doorbell rang.

Alex stared at the door, dumbfounded. Who would be at her door at this time of the morning?

"Alex?" said a familiar voice, muffled slightly by the door. Alex's head dropped back and she groaned slightly. After a few seconds she levered herself off the couch and shuffled over to the door.

"What do you want, Max?" She peered through the open door, leaning against the jam and took in the man standing on her doorstop. He wore jeans and long-sleeved white shirt with the sleeves half rolled up. Except for the bruised face and drawn face, he looked good.

"Can I come in?"

"It's late. I'm not in the mood for your self-righteous – "

"I don't want to talk," he interrupted. "Just… sit. Today was…" he shook his head, unable to articulate the horrors they had seen only a few hours earlier. Alex looked at him for a long moment and she couldn't say whether it was her sleep-deprived brain that addled her thinking or the fact she had been in his situation before that had her opening the door wider and stepping aside. He walked inside without hesitation and made himself comfortable on the couch. Alex rolled her eyes at his customary arrogance and closed the door, throwing the deadbolt.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," she said sarcastically as she sat down again, back against the arm rest, knees bent and leaning to the side to rest her head along the top of the couch.

"Is there anything on TV at this time?" Max asked, grabbing the TV remote and flicking through the channels. Alex shrugged and Max decided to open Netflix. He logged in with his own details and put on Transformers.

"Seriously?" Alex asked incredulously. "After what we dealt with today, you want to watch a movie about aliens?"

"The good guys win," Max said simply. "From what I saw today, the good guys don't always win."

Images of mutilated bodies and the face of one scared child flashed across Alex's mind's eye. She sobered.

"No, we don't," she said softly. She turned her attention to the TV in time to see Optimus Prime come over a hill and print the truck.

Two hours later the movie credits were rolling and both Alex and Max were fast asleep on the couch.

"Alex."

Alex stirred slightly.

"Go away, Max, it's too early," she mumbled.

"It's not Max, it's mom, honey." This statement was accompanied by a soft shake of the shoulder. Alex's eyes opened blearily to look at the blond-haired woman crouched over her.

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

"Interrupting, apparently," she answered with a glance at the still sleeping Max. He was at the other end of the couch, head thrown back and mouth slightly open.

"He's going to be sore when he wakes up," Eliza said matter-of-factly. She turned back to her daughter who still had a look of sleepy confusion on her face.

"It's Easter Sunday, sweetheart," she said, smoothing back Alex's hair like she was a child. "I thought I'd surprise you, but I can see it's a bad time."

"No, Mom, it's fine." Alex pushed herself upright, supressing a yelp as she pulled at the stitches in her waist. "Um, Happy Easter."

Eliza kissed Alex's cheek and indicated the man still oblivious. "You should wake him up before the others arrive."

Alex stared at her mother. "Others? What others?"

"I thought it would be nice if we continued tradition and had an Easter lunch here," her mother said, hustling over to the door and picking up the brown paper bags that, Alex could only assume, contained enough food to feed an entire town. Eliza puffed as she placed them on the kitchen bench before putting on a pot of coffee. Alex stumbled over to one of the kitchen stools and sat down, scrubbing a hand over her face.

"Don't worry about a thing, Alex," Eliza said, pulling out pots and pans, knives, cutting boards and various things from the fridge. "I can see you've had a tough time at work." She waggled her fingers at her own face and Alex realised her own face must have bruised just like Max's.

"Is that coffee?"

Speak of the devil, Alex thought, finally awake enough to deal with the man who was, if not an outright enemy anymore, at least a thorn in her side with his attempts to 'protect' the planet.

"It is," Eliza said, turning off the coffee machine and pouring him a mug. Max ambled over, shirt half untucked, hair mussed and eyes still half-closed with sleep.

"You're a wonderful woman." He thankfully took the mug and drained half before he felt the burn of hot liquid and gagged slightly.

"So, are you my daughter's boyfriend now?" Eliza asked frankly. Alex chocked on the coffee she had just drunk and spluttered. Eliza looked on in amusement.

"Mom!"

Max just smiled but Alex saw his eyes grow sharp as his own sleepiness faded.

"No, I'm not," Max chuckled.

"Why not?"

"Mom!"

"What?" Eliza said indignantly. "It's my right as a parent to poke into my children's private lives."

Alex groaned and lowered her head onto the bench. Max and Eliza both heard her mutter the word 'nightmare'.

"Your daughter and I don't see eye to eye on a number of issues," Max explained diplomatically.

"I see." Eliza studied him with a shrewd interest that belied her affable demeanour. She eventually looked away, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out a whole chicken.

"Well, eyes or not, you're staying for Easter lunch."

Alex threw up her hands and walked out of the room into her bedroom.

"We adopted you for Christmas," she heard her mother say. "We're adopting you for Easter as well."

Max murmured something that Alex didn't catch. She firmly shut the door, changed into comfortable pyjamas and crawled into bed. The red numbers of the clocked blared the time of 07:34 at her tired eyes. Cursing her mother half-heartedly she closed her eyes, determined to get some more sleep.

She had no doubt her mother could handle Maxwell Lord.

Four hours later, she was again awakened by a hand gently shaking her shoulder.

"Lunchtime already?" Alex mumbled, expecting her mother to answer.

"From the smells coming from your kitchen, I'd say that's a yes," came the distinctly masculine voice. Alex's eyes shot open to find Maxwell Lord lying on his side on her bed, hand still resting on her shoulder.

"What the hell – "

"Not my idea!" He quickly intercepted her outraged comment. "You try saying no to your mother."

"I've tried," Alex admitted.

"Well, she shoved me in here after I almost face-planted on the the bench and said 'sleep'. So I slept. On top of the bed, I'd like to point out." His look clearly expressed the fact he deserved recognition for his chivalrous act.

"You're a saint," Alex said sarcastically, realising how close they were lying. Max seemed to realise at the same time and his eyes flicker down to her lips and stayed there.

"in your dreams," Alex said, rolling her eyes as she rolled over and sat up. She bit her lip, instinctively trying to stifle the scream that wanted to rip past through her lips. Max quickly reached over and helped her lay back down. He pulled her pyjama top up and saw fresh blood staining the patch over her stitches.

"This needs to be changed," Max said, getting up and striding to her bathroom like it was his own. "Do you have a first aid kit in here?"

"A basic one. Under the sink."

He returned a moment later and pulled out a non-stick pad, saline, and a long bandage. Alex turned onto her side so he had better access and held her pyjama top up and away from the blood. Max gently pulled off the bloody non-stick pad, cleaned the wound with the saline, then re-dressed it with the fresh pad. Alex protested when he went to wrap a bandage around her waist.

"If you keep forgetting you've got a slashed waist, you'll keep re-opening it and it won't heal," Max pointed out.

"I'll be more careful," she assured him with a slight smile. Max's hand still rested on her waist. Alex was annoyed the weight and warmth of it wasn't more uncomfortable. Eliza broke the tension that was slowly growing between them.

"Are you two decent?" she called through the door. Alex's head plopped back on the pillow.

"Do you want a mother? She's going cheap," Alex offered into her pillow. Max's fingers twitched against her skin before he pulled down her pyjama top, taking the moment to slide his fingers down her otherwise smooth skin as he did. Alex couldn't muster up a protest – and the goosebumps that raised in the wake of his fingers would have negated any protest she uttered anyway.

"I'm coming in," Eliza warned, a moment before the door opened. She noticed Alex still in bed, Max sitting beside her and the contents of the first aid kit spilled across the bed.

"Anything I need to know?" she asked.

"No," Alex replied. Eliza raised an eyebrow at Max who shook his head in the negative.

"She'll be fine if she doesn't pull her stitches."

"Tattletale," Alex whispered for his ears only. He smirked down at her.

"Well, good," Eliza said briskly. "Your sister, James and Winn will be here in half an hour. I expect you to be ready!"

"Yes, Ma'am" Alex saluted cheekily. She sat up carefully this time and stood slowly. Max stood as well.

"Well, I guess it's time to face the music," he said with his customary smirk back in place. "What will your sister say once she found out I stayed the night?"

Alex snapped her head around and glared at him. "We didn't sleep together!"

Max's smirk grew smug. "I never said we did. My my, Alex, what are you thinking about?"

"How much I hate you right now.

Max laughed. "I have no doubt. Since you are hating on me right now, I may as well take advantage of it."

He quickly stepped closer, cupped her unbruised cheek and kissed her.

There was nothing slow, nothing fast, nothing particularly romantic about it. It was a kiss you'd give to your partner of years, a casual thing that was comfortable and welcome. It lasted only a second and Max pulled back with a bewildered expression. It was far too easy to kiss the woman in front of him. He already craved more.

"I wasn't expecting that," he muttered to himself. Alex balled her hands into fists.

"I'd hit you right now ," she hissed at him, "except I'm worried I'll pull my stitches."

"Then it's definitely my lucky day," he said with a smirk, stepping out of reach just in case she changed her mind. "We should get out there before your mom decides to drag us out by our ears."

The doorbell rang just then and Eliza hurried over, flinging it open to reveal Kara, arms full of chocolate bunnies and eggs, followed closely by Winn, then James.

"Happy Easter!" all three chorused to Eliza, giving her the required kiss on the cheek before entering.

Kara stopped abruptly as she saw Max emerge from Alex's room, followed quickly by Alex, who had red-tinged cheeks. Kara's jaw dropped. James smiled and shook his head, not wanting to believe it. Winn was… Winn. He pointed to the two of them.

"Is this a thing? Since when is this a thing?"

Alex stepped away from Max and walked over to Kara, giving her a quick hug.

"There is no thing," Alex assured everyone. She squeezed Kara's hand. "No thing."

"Max is joining us for lunch," Eliza announced.

"Again?" Winn asked without thinking.

"Get drinks and take a seat," Eliza instructed, ignoring Winn. "The roast is just about ready."

Ten minutes later Eliza proudly set the roast chicken down in the centre of the table to a round of applause and a chorus of compliments. She blushed and handed the carving knife to Alex. "Honours to the host."

"Someone else better carve this time," Alex said, indicating her side. "I'll pull some stitches if I stretch across the table."

James took hold of the knives and began cutting, dolling out expertly carved slices of perfectly cooked chicken. Vegetables, dinner rolls, potato casserole and three different types of salad were all passed around and everyone ended up with far too much food on their plate. Max, seeing Alex push aside the tomatoes from the salad, stole them from her plate.

In retaliation, she stole his garlic bread.

"That is not proportionately fair," he murmured to her.

"Who wants to be fair?" she challenged. And so it went for the rest of the meal. One would take something and the other would retaliate by taking something better. When Eliza brought out a three-layer chocolate cake for dessert Max and Alex glanced at each, an unspoken truce forming.

Two hours later, the food was demolished (with Kara finishing up most of it) and Eliza brought out the game of Life.

"As much fun as this looks, I should get going," Max said, standing. "Eliza, it was a wonderful meal, as usual. Thank you for inviting me."

"You're welcome anytime, Max," Eliza said, patting him on the arm.

"No, he's not," Kara protested. Alex remained silent, standing and doing her duty as host by escorting him to the door.

"Deja vu," Max said, referring to the last Danvers meal he had attended at Christmas. Alex smirked.

"You already got your kiss."

"I'm happy to get another one," Max replied, stepping just a tiny bit closer. Alex pushed against his chest gently.

"In your dreams, Max," she smirked, repeating her words from earlier. She closed the door in his face, still grinning.

"Well, it will be now," Mas muttered to himself as he walked away.