General disclaimer: Max Steel belongs to many companies, Kids' WB!, two different computer animation companies, and a whole mess-o corporate executives. This story is my personal work derived from my inner child getting hold of an uzi and obliterating my good side.
DRINK AND SONG
BY:
Maxy Steel
A frantic Max pushed a stealth mode activated Hawk to go faster, murmuring prayers to various gods, imploring them to make his plane go faster. On the other end of the bio-link, Berto sighed at him.
"Calm down, hermano," he scolded in a mild voice. Max glanced at his watch, and grumbled something to himself.
"I've got forty minutes of class time left, bro. If I can sneak in for the last half hour, maybe I'll escape another of Guerard's lectures," he replied briskly. Berto shrugged to himself. Max muttered more pleas to the Sun God. Hawk dipped a little, it's pilot seeing the destination, coming in for the final landing. With ease, the young agent dropped his ride in some bushes near the edge of the school, yanked his backpack out of the back seat, and bolted for his class, ignoring the number of students milling around. He raced up to Dr. Geurard's classroom, and was shocked to discover that the door was locked. He looked at his watch again. There was supposed to be half an hour of class left. Glancing around, the brunette agent grabbed the arm of a nearby student.
"Hey, can you tell me what time it is?" he asked. The young woman gave him a raised eyebrow look from under her longish black bangs, then a slow, calculated smile spread across her lips, and she looked at her watch.
"1:30," she told him, watching as Max's eyes widened, and he looked at his own time piece. She observed, with an amused look, as he staggered a few steps away, and turned away from her.
"Bro...is there a chance that all those mechanical doo-hickeys could have screwed up my watch?" he asked, a wisp of ice in his tone. The Spanish tech shrugged non-chalantly.
"It's possible, hermano," he replied casually.
"Because my watch is an hour behind. I missed class by a half hour!" the older boy groaned. Berto opened his mouth to offer some sort of comforting remark, when Max's attention was ripped away by a hand tapping his shoulder.
"Hate to interrupt this conversation you're having with yourself but...are you a new student? I haven't seen you around before," the girl he'd spoken to a moment ago asked him, an almost seductive smile on her face. The young man opened his mouth to explain that he couldn't see why she didn't recognize him, he was the famous Josh McGrath, where had she been living, a cave?
"Hermano, did you change yet?" Berto interjected. Max closed his mouth, glancing down. His hands were a few shades darker than Josh's should be. He was definitely Max.
"Yeah...I am. What's your name? Mine's Max," he offered, smiling. The girl winked at him.
"Maria. Hey, meet me right here again around eight o'clock. I can show you around," she replied, a smile caressing her dark lips. Max hesitated a little.
"Just what you need, hermano. One more to add to the collection," Berto snickered. The older boy made a quick mental note to break the next Fido his friend came up with, and smiled at the flirting girl. Looking her up and down, once, very quickly, he decided that was an understatement. Everything from her tiny little top that barely held her chest in check, to her shorts, cut so high they could have been mistaken for a bikini bottom, looked as if she had calculated everything to perfectly catch his eye. He was half-sure it was working.
"Sure. Why not?" he said finally. What harm can there be in letting her show me around the school? he wondered, less innocent thoughts not even entering his mind. She winked again, and whipped around in a flourished motion, and walked away, throwing a single glance over her shoulder.
Right on the dot, Max showed up outside the classroom, and glanced around for his tour guide. Out of nowhere, she was standing beside him, wearing just a little more than her day attire. Little more as in, an extra inch of fabric total. She smiled sweetly, taking his hand.
"Come on, Max. I'll show you around," she said, tugging him. Rolling his eyes, the young man allowed himself to be dragged.
"So, what are you majoring in?" he asked after a moment, looking for conversation. Maria grinned at him, pleased.
"I'm a chemistry major," she told him, her eyes half-closed in her most appealing expression. He easily ignored the look, quickly reminding himself of Rachel. The black-haired female pouted slightly, but quickly lost it, and kept pulling him along. Max looked up to the night sky, and wished that it was Rachel holding his arm, and that it was the park or woods, rather than Maria and the somewhat litter-sprayed campus of Del Oro University. A moment later, he tripped over an old pop bottle, and stumbled clumsily. Maria giggled softly, gripping his arm tighter. She shot him a mildly worried look.
"Careful," she chided him. Max took a quick moment to regain his dignity, then smiled at her.
"I know," he replied calmly. The raven-haired female readjusted her grip on his arm, and dragged him again. The rec center came into view just then. The college students paused at the steps, and sat down on them.
"This is the rec center. People come here to study, workout, you know, just stuff," she explained, leaning close to him, smiling that sultry smirk of hers. Max continued to be oblivious to her tones and alluring aura.
"That's what I hear people do at rec centers," he agreed, mentally chuckling to himself. Maria leaned away from him, giving him an deep, searching look, then got to her feet.
"I know another place to show you. I'm sure you haven't been here yet," she said, a little abruptly, pulling him up with her, and leading him to the sidewalk. Max grinned to himself.
Just a few short blocks from the university, they came to a considerably sized store. How Maria had managed to get here in her three inch heels without injury, Max would never know. She was smiling wider than he as they entered the building. The intense blasts of smoke, beer, and loud, drunken laughter set the young man's head reeling, and nearly threw him off his feet. Maria smirked at him, and hauled him to a table.
"Two beers," she told a passing waitress. Max's head snapped up, and he looked at her.
"I don't drink," he told her firmly. Her shoulders shrugged as if it didn't matter in the slightest.
"Just one. It's not that bad. All those stories you've heard, they're about those people who had no tolerance. I can tell, you have a lot of tolerance," she said, smiling. The drinks arrived. She pushed his mug at him invitingly, smiling. He shook his head. A frown crossed her lips. Well...they do say don't knock it till you try it...he thought to himself, picking up the glass. She chuckled as he took a cautious swallow, then made a face.
"Ugh..." he mumbled, setting the mug down. She clapped and laughed.
"Congratulations, Max. You've just taken your first step towards corruption," she told him, smiling. The young man frowned at her.
"That stuff tastes awful," he replied irritably, looking at the glass with disgust. Maria chuckled and raised her own mug to her lips.
"You get used to it," she informed him, taking a long pull of her beverage. Max sighed, and scrubbed at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, promising himself to swallow an entire box of breath mints when he got home.
A young blond woman stepped into the smoky bar, wrinkling her nose in distaste, and wondering how the young man she was looking for could have ended up here, of all places. Ignoring the loud comments coming from various bar patrons, she stepped gingerly around the tables, looking around the crowded bar.
"Where is he..." she muttered to herself, then stopped. A flash of red passed through her vision when she saw Max sitting at a table, a half-full mug in front of him, laughing and talking to a scantily clad black-haired female. She folded her arms, her eyes narrowing even as they misted with hurt and angry tears. A drunken bar patron staggered up to her, and leered at her, a hazy smile covering his face.
"Hey, there, bl-blondie. Y-you look lonely," he slurred. She looked at him for a moment.
"At the moment, I am," she said finally, then turned her back on him. The guy brightened, grinning as if he'd won the lottery.
"I'll keep you c-company," he offered, starting to put an arm around her. Rachel fought down the urge to take her anger out on him by throwing him into the bar. Instead, she pushed aside his arm, and made her way to the other side of the bar. Taking a seat at a table, she ordered a drink of her own.
An hour, and several margaritas later, Rachel was feeling a little tipsy, but still about as depressed at she had before. I come looking for him to tell him how I feel about him, and what do I find? Him drinking and with a scrawny alley cat practically in his lap, she growled to herself, taking another pull of the contents of her glass. Her eyes slanted over to the table Max and his friend were sharing. Max was looking more than a little drunk, and the girl was gradually making her move. A young man, wearing a pleasant smile, came and sat down beside her. He ordered a beer, and sipped it.
"Hi. This is a really over-used line, but, what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" he said, smiling a little. Rachel offered a tiny brush of a smile to cross her face.
"Was trying to find someone, but he's...otherwise engaged at the moment," she told the stranger. The man nodded sympathetically, but said nothing. The blonde looked back at Max. He looked whoosy, and his lady friend had scooted much closer to him, and had her hand resting on his.
Max felt out of it. He could hear Maria talking, but wasn't really registering what she said. I am gonna have to call in sick tomorrow, he muttered to himself, putting a hand to his forehead. His "date" looked at him, frowned, then looked up at the stage. Some of the more inebriated patrons were up on-stage, putting the karaoke machine to work. Most of what the current performer was saying was being drowned out by his giggling and constant hiccuping. She turned her attention back to Max.
"Hey, I know. Why don't you get up there?" she suggested, pointing to the stage. A look of surprise crossed Max's face, and he shook his head quickly. Instantly, the desire to throw up hit him. He groaned, grinding his hand against his forehead.
"I don't think so, Maria. I'd rather go home. I feel sick," he replied in a half mumble. She ignored his comment, standing and tugging at his arm, a pleading smile on his face.
"You'll sober up once you're under the stage lights. Come on, it's fun! I've done it," she reasoned. The brunette young man sighed to himself, slowly standing. A rush of dizziness was thrown at him. She pushed him towards the stage, smiling.
Back in the other part of the bar, Rachel contemplated her glass, and the amber liquid it contained. She sighed, watching the ripples flicker across the surface of the drink. She jumped when the music spewing from the karaoke machine turned to hard rock, and looked over.
"This ain't a song for the broken-hearted..." the voice of Jon Bon Jovi mingled with another, more familiar voice. She almost dropped her glass, seeing Max on the stage, microphone in hand. The guy sitting beside her watched the blonde woman's eyes, then shook his head.
"That one's gonna be spraying his guts tomorrow," he commented absently, taking a drink of his beer. Rachel frowned slightly.
"Max, I thought you were smarter than this," she muttered under her breath. Her new friend heard her, and laughed, setting his glass down.
"I saw the beauty he's with, babe. Girl like that can talk even the most stoic man into doing the stupidest things. Why you worried? He your brother or something?" he told her. Rachel shook her head.
"No, no. We're not related," she explained vaguely. The man raised an eyebrow at her.
"It's my life, it's now or never...." the words filtered through the bar room. Several girls were cheering and giggling. A quick glance back at the singer showed Max was jumping around the stage so much, he was getting tangled in the microphone cord.
"So why you so worried about a stranger?" the man asked. Obviously, he'd put away a few beers, and wasn't thinking too clearly.
"He and I work together," Rachel replied, sipping her drink. The young man nodded to himself.
"Heh. Shoulda figured. Well, I gotta go. You're a real nice girl. Not too hard on the eyes either. Maybe we'll see you again sometime," he said, smiling, then got up and left the bar. The blond female sighed to herself, wondering if she should just head home, scream at Max the next day, or whenever he came in.
"It's...my....life!" the final words of the song were rapped out. Rachel looked over, just in time to see Max, his legs completely entwined in almost the whole length of the microphone cord, fall off the stage. She was on her feet in a moment, just as the little black-haired girl Max was with bounced to her feet, rushing for the stage. The blonde agent took half a second to wrestle with her emotions and common sense before giving in and rushing over. Despite the anger she felt directed at him, she couldn't help rushing over to make sure he was all right. Stopping short near the stage, she was met by Max and his friend still down by the stage. The girl was kneeling beside him, pulling at the cord, which had formed a sizeable knot.
"Excuse me," the female blond said, a little snappishly. The black-haired girl looked up, and put her hands on her hips.
"Who are you?" she demanded coolly. Rachel crouched down, grabbed the girl by the cloth on her shoulder.
"His wife. Back off," she replied calmly, pushing the girl back. I really hope he didn't hear that, the blonde thought to herself as she moved to take the black-haired girl's place. The flirtatious young woman glared at her in irritation for a moment, then turned and fled in an air of silent fury. Max groaned and rubbed his head as Rachel finished pulling the wires off his legs.
"R-Rach? What are y-you doing here?" he asked, a little confusedly. She sighed, dragging him to his feet.
"At the moment, picking you off the floor, Mr. Steel," she retorted angrily. He scoffed, stumbled, then almost fell.
"Come on, Rach. What w-would you be doing at a c-college bar in the first place?" he replied. Her hand shot out, catching him across the face. Several men nearby chuckled as she grabbed his arm.
"Come on, Max," she grumbled, all but dragging him across the place, hauling him back over to the part of the bar she'd claimed. She pushed him down onto the stool, then ordered a cup of coffee for him. He took the mug when it came, taking a small swallow from the steaming drink and grimacing. Rachel sipped her margarita, watching him calmly. He set the coffee down.
"Are you waiting for me to explain myself? Because I can't," he asked finally. She shook her head slightly, setting her empty glass on the bar.
"No, I was waiting for you to sober up enough to walk home. You'll have plenty of time to explain tomorrow," she explained, standing and taking his hand. He let her pull him to his feet, then eyed her curiously. He chuckled softly.
"You've had a drink or five yourself," he informed her after she gave him a questioning glance. Rachel fought down a sudden uprising of giggles she felt, for no apparent reason.
"And I think they're starting to kick in," the young woman said after a moment. With a flourished gesture, broken somewhat by his slackened reflexes, he led her out of the bar.
Laughter. That was the first thing heard. Then the door swung open. Max, staggering with all the balance of one standing on a Jell-O mold, entered the house, Rachel in his arms. His foot swung back, door behind them slammed shut. Both were giggling, most uncharacteristically, and obviously drunk, as he dropped onto the couch, her on his lap. Her laugh tapered off, as he took deep breaths, trying to stop chuckling, and to clear his mind. She leaned up, pressing her lips gently to the corner of his mouth.
"I never...knew how much fun something like that could be..." she murmured drunkenly. He grinned impishly, and tangled his right hand in her hair.
"It could get better," he said suggestively, kissing her temple. She sighed, as his left hand pressed her waist against his more firmly. A soft gasp escaped her lips as his moved lower, until he was kissing her neck. Her hands slid up to his hair, and gripped the short brunette strands. He winced, her nails digging into his scalp a little harder than he was comfortable with. He paused just long enough to disentangle her hands from his hair, then kissed her lips again, his right hand falling from her hair to his side, useless for the moment.
"No fair," she said softly when they parted. He grinned, slipping the hand around her waist a little higher. She smiled at him through half-closed eyelids and a drunken haze. Both of them were probably going to regret this night the next morning, but neither cared, or at least, didn't have enough brain cells currently functioning to think about it. Max took a deep breath, then several more, trying to clear his head.
"I know...I'm not...right in the head, right now. But, Rach....I have to say this..." he started, sounding a little more like himself. She turned her head, looking at him questioningly.
"Say what...Max?" she replied, cuddling against his shoulder. He stroked both hands up and down her arms, kissing her again.
"I love you," he whispered in her ear. She smiled, and pushed against him, gradually forcing them down on the couch. He swung his legs up onto the piece of furniture, as she settled on top of him. He looked a little confused, as she kissed him.
"I love you too," she murmured, then planted a trail of light kisses from his lips to his temple. He pulled her down, gesturing for her to stop. She locked eyes with him, nodded slightly, and settled down, her head resting on his left shoulder. Max squirmed and propped his head on the couch arm, then settled his arms around her waist. She wriggled her arms free, and wrapped them around his neck, sighing softly. They were silent, listening to one another's heartbeats. Sleep drifted over, and enclosed the minds of both.
So yes....too much music and cotton candy will produce this kind of story from me. Yes, I'm rather odd. I know that. You didn't need to tell me again. Well, I'll go now. Catch ya later! Luv ya all!
-Maxy Steel