Disclaimer: No I don't own Dark Angel, I just like to write about it.

A/N: This is my response to a Cape Haven challenge to write a Season 1 story in which Logan has to wear a silly hat and there is an unexpected kiss between any two characters.

Many, many, many thanks to Alaidh for her remarkably fast, and, as always, thorough beta.

Aliens among us.

"So, the world as we know it is about to end?" Max asked sassily as she stood by his computer desk.

She was, at first, relieved to find him in one piece, as 99% of her mind had expected she would, and now a little annoyed with herself, and therefore Logan Cale, that she had let 1% of her mind run riot with images of Eyes Only being carted off by men in suits with sunglasses and very large guns.

"What's the dealio? You've been blowin' up my pager for the last half hour! It would'a been nice if you'd given me a chance to phone you before the next message beeped me!"

"Sorry," he said, looking up at her in a manner that told her he'd only heard half, if that, of what she'd just said, anyway. "I got a job for you."

"I'm fine, thanks for asking, by the way," she told him as she wandered through to his kitchen. "And I'm starved. You got any food?"

With an annoyed frown, Logan unlocked his brakes and followed her through to his kitchen.

"There's some left over pasta in the refrigerator if you want it."

"Cool. How 'bout you?"

He shook his head impatiently. "Max. This is important."

Taking the bowl of pasta out of the refrigerator, she smiled sweetly across at him. "Isn't it always?"

Ignoring her levity with a dark look, Logan continued, "I need you to come with me to meet an informant."

"So what's the man selling?" asked Max as she tipped the pasta into one of his saucepans to heat it on the stove.

"He's giving me the information I need to blow the lid on our 'noble' Senator Will Barton and his cronies."

"Logan, the man's a politician – you didn't expect him to be honest, as well, did you?"

"Not every politician is crooked, Max," he reminded with narrowed eyes.

Just why was she in this mood? he wondered with irritation.

"So, whatcha want me to do?" she asked, turning towards him as she licked the back of the spoon. "Mmm, this is good, Logan."

"He wants me to meet him at a function ...tonight."

"What kinda...?" Max began, only to stop as Logan took an envelope from his lap and gave it to her.

He studied her face while she read, trying to judge her reaction.

"This is a ticket to a costume ball," she said surprise.

"Ugh, I know," Logan grunted with disgust. "My contact has this warped idea that it's a safe place for an exchange of information."

Max studied the invitation once more, whistling slightly. "This is on the top floor of the Moran Building. Must be some fund raiser!"

"Guess so," Logan murmured as he wheeled back to his desk.

Max looked at him, then turned the heat down on her pasta before following him.

"You likely to meet any o' your peeps?"

"I hope not! This isn't their type of thing."

Max looked at the invitation again, wrinkling her nose. "The theme is TV characters."

"Whatever it is, it won't bother us. We're just gonna do the meet and grab the file," Logan told her factually.

"Won't we look a bit outta place?" Max asked him uncertainly.

"You'll fit in perfectly. Just wear your black catsuit and you can be Catwoman," Logan murmured as he studied a map of the Moran Building, not taking her worries seriously.

"I think we should do our best to blend in," Max responded, not taking her assignment lightly.

"Max, you know what happens at these charity balls."

"Coaches turn into pumpkins?" she tried.

"No," Logan responded, continuing dryly, "People over eat and over drink on all the second rate food and third rate champagne. By the time we get there, half of them will have changed outta their costumes or drunk so much they won't even remember their name, let alone what character they were meant to be."

"Thought you said your peeps didn't hang out at this type of thing?" she asked him suspiciously.

Logan shrugged. "I've had to go to a couple o' these things before – that's why we simply grab the file and head home and your dinner is burning."

Max looked around suddenly as Logan's last words sank in and rushed back out to the kitchen.

"I think I just saved it," she called to him thankfully.

"Great, swallow it down then head home and change. I'll pick you up in an hour."

"So, if I'm Catwoman, who are you gonna be?" she asked with a smile as she poured the slightly burnt pasta into a bowl.

"Me," he retorted.

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By the time they arrived at the costume ball, the event was in full swing, as Logan had predicted.

Max had annoyed him the entire drive by giving him, for the most part, highly improbable suggestions on who he could be.

As they hesitated a little as they got out of the elevator, she said with a note of triumph, "I know who you can be – the guy off that show you liked when you were kid. The guy with the funny name," she added helpfully, as he didn't reply.

"My guy should be in a room somewhere off the main one. We're looking for a small conference room," Logan commented, ignoring her facetiousness.

"Room 357. I know," Max told him, a little annoyed by his determination to simply do the job and leave. "You know, I've never been to one of these before," she hinted.

"Lucky you," Logan responded as he started to head towards the back of the crowded room.

The convention room was enormous as it took up at least half of the floor space at this level.

Max looked about with interest as she followed Logan.

There must have been at least five hundred people crowded into the huge, dimly lit room, for the most part dressed in bizarre and weird and wonderful costumes, anything from aliens to cowboys.

Four disco balls glittered above a large dance floor where people appeared to be gyrating happily.

The rest of the room was filled with round tables covered with white cloths that touched the ground. At a quick glance they all appeared to be taken, laden with glasses and plates of food collected from the buffet at the front of the room.

Waiters, dressed soberly in black and white, tried to keep up with the constant calls for more champagne over the noise of the music and hum of conversation and laughter.

It wasn't easy navigating the wheelchair around the various tables and chairs that people had left half pulled out when they'd got up to dance or eat or whatever.

Seeing Logan's smile becoming more and more forced each time he had to stop and politely say, "Excuse me," she swept passed him when there was a free space and took on the job of making a clear path.

She could see the numbers on the doors now. Dropping a hand to Logan's shoulder she stretched her other arm out and pointed to the middle door.

She saw him nod, then he stopped and checked the time.

"We've got a few minutes up our sleeves yet, then I'll go in. I shouldn't be too long."

"You don't want me to come in with you?" she asked with surprise.

"No, this guy's paranoid enough as it is. He only wants to meet with me."

"I don't like it," Max stated categorically, but doubted if it would make any difference to him.

"Max, it's a simple drop. He gives me the file and leaves."

Max shrugged, then put one hand on her hip clad in her black pants that moulded to every contour of her body.

"If you're not out by ten, I'm comin' in," she stated with attitude.

"Fine," Logan snapped a little as he checked his watch again. "That's it," he murmured, pushing himself forward.

He had his hand to the door when Max suddenly leant towards him and whispered breathily in his ear with a warmth that sent shivers down his neck, "Fox Mulder."

He paused to look up at her and met her eyes, which were brimming with satisfaction.

"Knew it'd come to me," she smiled.

She stood there sassily looking down at him, without doubt the most beautiful girl in the room. Somewhere from some deep hidden part of his mind the thought came to him that he wished he didn't have this meet and that he was there with her to simply have a good time and drink bad champagne and forget about everything that needed to be forgotten about.

Suppressing the thought quickly, his words came out a bit more dampening than intended, "Just make sure no one breaks in on us."

The smile disappeared from her eyes, but remained frozen on her lips. "Sure. That's what I'm here for isn't it."

He felt a pang of guilt that he'd sounded so cold, and opened his mouth about to say something, but Max was already holding the door open for him to enter, so he wheeled in wordlessly then twisted his head a little as he heard her shut it, with more force than was necessary, behind him.

It was quiet in here – almost totally sound proofed from the noise in the main room, and ominously empty.

Logan frowned as he wheeled in further, feeling slightly claustrophobic in the windowless room, despite its lack of furniture and reasonable size. The room contained nothing more than a white board, a few small tables and some comfortable looking armchairs.

Logan looked up suddenly as he heard a creak in the wall to the right of him, then realized that it was, in fact, a door he was looking at and it was slowly opening.

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Max leant against the door, arms folded, thoughts confused. Sometimes Logan can be so...

"Max!"

Max looked up in great surprise to see Original Cindy and Sketchy coming towards her.

"Well if it isn't Xena, Warrior Princess and ... who are you?" she asked, turning to Sketchy with a look of confused distaste.

"Hey, Max. I dunno. It was the only thing left in the costume shop," Sketchy explained, not in the least put off by her less than warm reception. "I think I'm some kinda cowboy," he added vaguely. "But I got me a cool gun," he added, taking it out of the holster he wore strapped to his leg and attempting to twirl it around his finger.

"Just as well that ain't real, fool, or you woulda shot your foot off by now," OC told him dryly.

"It's the hat I'm worried about," Max stated, wrinkling her nose as she looked at the ridiculously high, white cowboy hat that he wore on his head.

"Hey, this is a 'ten gallon'," Sketchy told her proudly.

Failing to look impressed, Max turned back to Cindy.

"So, watcha doin' here, boo?" OC asked her suspiciously, adding, "I bet it's got somethin' to do with ..."

Max cut in before she finished, fending off having to make one of her, "He's not my boy" statements.

"Logan had an interview to do. Some guy he's interviewing for an article," she elaborated.

Sketchy had already wandered off in pursuit of the opposite sex, having discovered a particularly pretty blonde making eyes at him.

Original Cindy simply nodded.

"So how come you're here?" Max asked her friend.

"Some rich-ass guy gave Sketchy the tickets because he delivered his package on time this afternoon," Cindy told her. "Original Cindy tried to get hold of her homegirl, but you didn't reply after you was paged."

"I was kinda busy," Max replied. Yeah, wasting your time worrying about Mr 'we gotta save the world there's no time to play', a voice muttered discontentedly in her head.

"Okay girl, well Original Cindy's gonna head over there and check out the food," her friend told her, taking the hint when she saw Max repeatedly checking the time on her watch. "Will you be hangin' here a while?"

"I don't think so," Max told her. You gotta be kidding! said the dissatisfied voice in her head.

"Okay girl. See ya round."

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With some surprise, Logan watched as Mr. Spock entered the room, carrying a small black bag.

He looked at Logan unsurely, obviously a bit surprised by the wheelchair.

"Enterprise," Logan said with a touch of humour, now realizing why the other man had made it the password he was to use.

"You're from the man?"

"You got the file?" Logan asked instead.

Mr. Spock looked about him nervously.

As Logan got closer to him, he could see the beads of perspiration on the man's forehead.

"It's all in here," he told Logan urgently, handing him the bag. "Just make sure Eyes Only takes the bastard down."

Before Logan had an opportunity to comment, the man turned and fled the room without a backward glance.

Logan stared after him for a moment and then quickly opened the bag to check that all was as it should be. He let out a low whistle as his eye caught some of the information printed in the file and then thankful that it had gone to plan, he wheeled back to the other door that led back to Max and the ballroom.

He'd only gone a short way when he thought he heard a sound behind the hidden door.

Swinging around, he headed back to the door and stopped and listened.

Nothing.

No, there it was again – a slight scuffling sound.

Some sixth sense told Logan he should get outta there, but he paused anyway. What if the man was in some kind of trouble? He'd been awfully nervous. In fact his whole attitude had made Logan more than a little nervous, which was why he'd brought Max.

Max. I'd better get her, he decided, preparing to turn his chair around again when, without warning, the hidden door sprung open.

Logan saw two things in one split second.

Mr. Spock's complexion was never good at the best time – it was positively ghastly now.

The second thing that caught Logan's eye was an alien with a gun and a silencer, pointing directly at him.

Logan lunged forward and closed the door, thankful that the lock was on his side, then headed out to Max as fast as he could wheel along the thick carpet.

The door opened before he had a chance to put a hand to the knob.

It was Max.

"Your ten minutes are up," she told him.

"We've got trouble," Logan replied, quickly wheeling through the door as she held it open, filling her in quickly on what had just gone down.

"Okay, we're outta here," she snapped, grabbing the small black bag off his lap. "You think the guy saw you?" she asked, her mind going into defence mode.

"Without a doubt."

"Damn," was her only comment as she moved a chair out of the way for him.

"There must be a corridor around the back of the conference rooms," Logan told her above the noise.

Max turned to him. "Make your way to the elevator. I'm gonna go ahead and check things out first."

Leaving Logan to weave his way through the crowds, she rushed back to the foyer, quickly checking to see if the coast was clear.

Rounding the corner, the first thing she saw made her stop short. A man in a suit with a phone to his ear was turning a key in the panel of the elevator. She wasn't surprised to see all the lights on the panel go out.

"Damn," she said under her breath, yet again, preparing to go forward and tackle the man when the foyer became suddenly filled with people all in costume. Max had no way of knowing if they were Barton's people or not.

Okay, Max, time for plan B.

Running back to Logan, who had almost reached the last of the tables on that side of the room, she said to him tersely, "We're stuck. They've switched off the elevator. Looks like we move to Plan B."

"We don't have a 'Plan B'," Logan reminded her.

"We have now!"

Max looked up to see Original Cindy on her way back to her table with a heavily laden plate of food.

"OC," she called to her loudly a few times before she caught her friend's attention.

Original Cindy looked at her with a smile of surprise.

"Thought you two were headin' home."

"Change of plan," Max told her quickly. "You and Sketchy got a table somewhere?" she asked hopefully, her eyes darting uneasily around the room as she spoke.

"Sure. Just over there," OC told them, turning to head to it.

Max went to follow but stopped when Logan grabbed her hand.

"You never told me what Plan B is," he reminded her urgently.

Max could see Cindy stopping at a table a little in front of them. Searching the room again quickly for anything untoward, she leaned over a little to be heard without having to yell above the noise.

"The guy who iced your contact got a quick glimpse of you, right?"

Logan nodded.

"Okay, the first thing he would have noticed would have been the wheelchair before you slammed the door on him, and hopefully he only got a very quick look at your face."

"Makes sense," Logan agreed, casting an uneasy glance around the room himself.

"Okay, so until we can figure a way outta here we're gonna have to make you less recognizable. First thing is to get rid of the chair. Come on," she commanded him.

"Max, why don't you take the bag and head out with it. You could get it away, come back for me later," Logan suggested.

"Because I take pride in my work," she retorted, "which was to be your back- up – not your courier," she added coldly.

Feeling that he'd insulted her in some way, Logan closed his mouth and followed her to OC's table, where Sketchy was now sitting, as well.

There was only one chair at the table and it didn't look particularly stable, but when Max looked around she saw that all the chairs were collapsible ones.

She looked at Logan, who had now made it to the table. "Quick," she hissed under her breath.

He looked at it a bit uncertainly. "Hold it still for me will you?" he murmured before sliding across from his wheelchair.

As soon as he was out of his chair, Max grabbed it with lightning speed and had it packed up and under the table, where it was well hidden by the long white tablecloth.

Breathing a little easier, she then grabbed a chair for herself from another table close by and set it next to Logan.

"Was that Plan B?" he asked uncertainly.

"Only part one of said plan," she replied mysteriously, thinking inwardly that he was less likely to be so compliant with the second part.

"So, Sketchy, where'd your blonde go?" she asked her colleague.

"I don't think she was ready to ride off into the sunset with me," he admitted good-naturedly.

"The blonde with the Baywatch look?" Max asked him in surprise.

"That's the one," Sketchy sighed.

With a cautionary look at Original Cindy, Max said, "Oh, I thought you heard what she told her friend."

"Wassat?" asked Sketchy with interest.

"She told me she'd seen this hotboy, but the cowboy hat was a real turn off."

Sketchy looked around the room, immediately taking his 10-gallon hat off as he did so and tossing it on the table.

"The gun's gotta go, too," Max hinted none too subtly.

"You're right, Max. I was crazy to think there could ever be a link between a cowboy and a beach babe," Sketchy agreed enthusiastically, standing now to scan the room better.

"I thought I saw her over by the buffet," Max mentioned airily, eyeing his hat and gunbelt hungrily.

"I'd better go check," Sketchy said seriously, then added with a knowing look, "Don't wait up for me."

"Oh, pleeeese," uttered Original Cindy with disgust. "Explain to me what anyone would see in his white ass!"

As soon as he'd gone, Max pounced.

Ever mindful of Cindy's presence, she said brightly, "Logan, this is just what you need!" but her face was noticeably less bright and far more telling when it was turned in only his direction.

Logan eyed the hat with disdain. He said two words, "No way."

Max leaned in close to him as if she were about to say something sexy in his ear. "You wanna look stupid – or you wanna look dead?"

Logan rolled his eyes, prevented by saying more by Original Cindy's presence and, under much sufferance, let Max drop the hat on his head.

"Now the glasses and the gunbelt," Max added persuasively, handing him the gunbelt and putting a hand out for his glasses.

With another dark look at her, Logan took off his glasses and handed them over to her, watching as she promptly dropped them into the pocket of her black jacket. With a grunt that told her what he thought of the second part of her plan, he put the gunbelt about his waist and did it up.

Logan felt ridiculous. He wondered if perhaps being caught by Barton's goons would be infinitely preferable to being made a fool of.

Original Cindy had watched the proceedings with interest. "Would this be a costume or a disguise?" she asked quietly with fine insight.

Max exchanged a quick glance with Logan who shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly, his hands searching for wheels to rest on that he suddenly remembered weren't there.

Feeling that there was a very good chance that she might need her friend's help before the night was out, Max admitted some of the truth to her.

"There are a few guys here who might be kinda 'unhappy' that Logan did his interview," she explained cautiously. "They've shut down the elevator."

"Whatch gonna do, boo?" OC asked seriously. She didn't entirely understand the connection Max and Logan had, but she'd seen the lengths he had gone to in trying to save Max when the Reds had her, and she had no reason to suppose that Max would be any less prepared to put her own safety on the line to save him.

The thought left a queasiness in her stomach that hadn't been there a minute ago, and she wondered, yet again, just what it was that Logan did? The man seemed to be incredibly good at getting himself into danger, which she had no argument with as long as it was his ass on the line and not Max's.

Original Cindy shifted her gaze to Logan. "You know, I thought Sketchy looked stoopid in that hat, but I gotta say that you don't look any better."

"Thanks," said Logan smiling wryly, then turning without thought as he heard someone call his name.

"Logan? Is that you in that silly hat?"

Max looked up to see a striking brunette coming towards him. She couldn't believe her luck that someone would actually recognize him under that getup.

"I didn't believe it was you till I saw that smile," she gushed a little, bending down to drop a light kiss on his cheek.

"Gwen!" he exclaimed in surprise, trying to cover his unease. The last thing he needed now was someone who knew him.

"Can I sit?" she asked.

"Sure," Logan responded, careful not to catch Max's eye knowing what he would find there.

He could see Gwen looking at him. "Logan, I thought I heard that you'd had some sort of an accident or something," she asked him uncertainly.

Max saw Logan hesitate.

"He's fine now," she jumped in quickly, this time making sure that she did catch Logan's eye.

"Really. That's just great," the brunette responded with a winning smile, much in the way a cat does who has just discovered a fish at its mercy in a glass bowl, Max thought coldly.

She wondered if Logan noticed the subtle difference in her attitude – from 'someone who'd had an accident' to 'Logan Cale, eligible bachelor.'

"Gwen, these are my friends Max and Original Cindy."

"Charmed," she murmured as she scarcely looked at them while pulling her chair next to Logan's left side.

Keep your feet from under the table, Max fumed inwardly at her from his other side.

I think I might be getting some fireworks thrown in here for free, Original Cindy thought dryly as she watched from her side of the table.

"Oh, your gun's untied," Max mentioned to Logan, grabbing hold of the string that tied the holster to his leg with a jerky movement. As he leant down a little to see what she was doing, she whispered fiercely in his ear, "Get rid of her," pulling down hard on the string as she made her knot.

"I'm doin' what I can," he murmured back a little heatedly.

"You know, I always had you tipped as a bit of a cowboy," Gwen was smiling flirtatiously with him.

Oh pul-leese, thought Max, can't you be a little bit more original than that?

Logan simply grinned back, then quickly changing the subject away from himself, he said, "And you're into space travel?" as he looked at the close fitting, silver, short skirted spacesuit she had on.

"Not me, my boyfriend," she stated in a bored manner, before quickly adding, "Actually, he's my 'ex' boyfriend. We just came together tonight. He had to do all the dress up thing because of his work."

"He works here?" Max queried, thinking it highly unlikely.

"Heavens no," Gwen laughed in her tinkly, affected manner. "No, everyone in his section from work is here, so of course he had to come too. It was Greg who came up with the space idea. He's into one of those old space shows, Stargate, Star Trek, whatever," she finished vaguely.

"Nice costume," Logan admired politely, thinking that after tonight he'd be more than happy if he never saw another alien or astronaut again.

"Yeah, he was real clever. Everyone in the senator's team had to wear this stuff," she continued with a laugh, "We even had that Mr. Spock guy with the pointy ears."

Logan and Max looked quickly at each other.

"So what's your boyfriend who's not your boyfriend doing now?" Max asked her almost without sarcasm, then waited intently on the brunette's answer.

"I don't know. He said he had to meet a friend who was in a wheelchair, but he couldn't find him. At first, I thought it might have been you when I saw you," she said brightly to Logan, "I was going to call Greg over. Just as well I didn't, huh," she laughed again.

"Just as well," Logan reiterated in agreement, stealing a look at Max and taking a deep gulp of one of the glasses of champagne that were on the table.

"Not that Greg would have thought it was funny," she added as an afterthought. "He has a terrible temper. Oh look, there he is, Greg, GREG!" she suddenly called with enough volume to wake the dead.

Max and Logan saw a man dressed as an alien, complete with green bulbous head.

"He took his eyes and funny hands off," Gwen explained for them, as if they might be disappointed in his appearance.

"I'm sure he must be busy," Logan said hastily, trying vainly to excuse themselves from an introduction. It was indeed the same alien that he'd seen standing over Mr. Spock's body with a gun in his hand.

"Greg!" she called again, making Max itch to get up and slap her down.

The alien turned as he heard her voice.

Max saw him look across to their table. She saw his eyes going to Logan.

She panicked.

Without stopping to consider the consequences, she knocked the hat off his head as she grabbed the back of neck, pulling his mouth towards hers.

For a fraction of a second she paused as a thousand voices in her head asked her what the hell did she think she was doing!

Very briefly, she saw mirrored in his eyes the same look of surprise and confusion that had been in his eyes the day she had kissed him farewell outside his uncle's cabin.

The next instant, her lips met his, and at first she was too dumbfounded by her own actions to register what was happening, but suddenly the contact became sweeter as she realized that, after the initial shock, he was kissing her back, not tentatively but firmly, with confidence and with fervour.

For the most wonderful moment in time, Mr. Spock, evil politicians, broken elevators, ex-girlfriends, even Original Cindy were forgotten as their lips fused in the unmistakable passion of a kiss between two people who loved each other but refused to admit it.

Max could feel the warmth of his hands as they caressed her head, then somewhere in the distance she heard a voice say, "Dayum!"

She stopped kissing, but kept her mouth on Logan's, opening her eyes cautiously as she looked for any sign of Gwen or Greg.

"You two plannin' on comin' up for air anytime in the near future?" Original Cindy continued in an amused voice, adding dryly, "They're gone," as she openly studied each of their expressions.

"Whoa," Logan remarked, reaching out for the table as if for support.

"Well that sure was one fine kiss my homegirl planted on you," OC stated irrepressibly, enjoying the discomfort on both their faces.

"Original Cindy's heard it said that the male species can go to water after ministrations by the fairer sex," which earned her a look from Max that would have had anyone else running for cover.

"No," Logan said carefully, "I think Max cut off the circulation in my leg when she tied the holster on."

Max who had been so carefully avoiding his face now quickly turned to him. "Oh, Logan. I'm sorry," she stammered out, quickly reaching down to his leg to untie the string, then pulling her hands back sharply as if she'd had an electric shock when she touched not his leg but his hand.

"Max, it's all right," Logan told her with meaning, wondering himself if he should feel embarrassed, confused, relieved that Gwen had finally gone or another hundred conflicting emotions as he massaged his leg to get the blood flowing in that area again.

"Sorry," she rushed out quickly again. Maybe the aliens will abduct me and beam me up, she thought desperately, at this point thinking anything would be better than the predicament she found herself in and resolving to get them both out of there as quickly as possible.

She had no doubt of her ability to get the elevator key off the man who had it – but more serious was how to get Logan out of there without him being seen. The whole Eyes Only network would be compromised if Barton found out his name. She shuddered to think what would happen if Gwen saw him in his wheelchair and passed the information on to her boyfriend.

If only there was a way of getting him out of there without his chair.

"You need a doctor or something?" OC asked Logan, a hint of concern in her voice as she tried to attract Max's attention with the meaningful tone of her words. "You still look like you just got run down by a bus," she said, passing him an untouched glass of water from the table.

That's it! Max thought suddenly as Original Cindy's words cut through her thoughts.

"Okay," Max told them both in a matter of fact manner, "That was too close. I think I've got a way of getting you outta here."

"You gonna turn my chair into a pumpkin?" Logan asked her wryly, fully aware of the dilemma they were in.

"Not quite," she smiled back, "but I might grab me a few mice," she added mysteriously.

Logan raised his brows at that, then put his head down as he went back to rubbing his leg.

"OC..." said Max, going over to her friend's side where she could talk quietly.

"Original Cindy's got your boy," her friend broke in quickly.

"That's not what I was gonna say," Max told her, "but thanks," she added in her friend's ear, smiling to herself as she walked away after overhearing OC say in a no-nonsense tone to Logan, "Drink your water."

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Max flashed down the 35 floors, then paused at the door of the foyer, her breathing barely disturbed by her fast descent.

Hoping she'd be able to find what she wanted, she stealthily explored the ground floor administration offices until she found one with a red cross on it.

Her trip back to the 35th floor was a bit slower because of what she was carrying, but she still made it in record time.

Exploring the back corridors of the floor, she found her way to the conference room that Logan had been in and deposited her items there.

Opening the door to the main ballroom, she looked out cautiously, immediately relieved to see Logan and Original Cindy still at their table, although she frowned a little when she saw that Logan hadn't put his hat back on.

Several aliens were conspicuously walking between the tables, which filled her with misgivings, but none of them were near Logan.

Of Gwen she could see no sign. "Just as well," she muttered.

Winding her way through the tables and people once more, she made her way over to them.

"Logan, I need your wallet," she said without preamble.

He looked a little surprised but pulled it out nonetheless.

"Hope you're loaded," she muttered quietly to him before disappearing into the crowd again, leaving Original Cindy giving Logan a puzzled glance.

"Max knows what she's doing," he assured her confidently, meeting her gaze, hoping that the guilt and tension he was feeling didn't show on his face.

OC bit back the threat she was going to give him if anything happened to Max because of his 'interview'. She suspected he'd be harder on himself than even she would be if things went astray.

Checking Logan's wallet as she went, Max was relieved to find it bulging with bills. Her next step was to look around for possible candidates.

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The security guards didn't know where the rumour had started, but once it had flared it caught hold like wildfire.

"There's a bomb!"

From table to table the rumour caught hold and people panicked, ignoring the calls for calm and safety.

Logan and Original Cindy looked at each other, surrounded by the mayhem, both sure that this was the work of a certain genetically engineered someone they both knew.

The next instant, Logan looked up to see Max by his side.

"Time to go, people," she snapped, bobbing under the table to pull out the pieces of his chair and the all-important black bag.

"Sure hope you know what you're doin', boo," Cindy told her friend with quiet seriousness while Logan transferred to his chair. "You're likely to get your boy flattened in all this madness."

Max looked at her for a moment. "No I won't," she said with determination, "and he's not my boy."

Max looked across at the melee that was trying to make its way out of the room.

Hysteria catches on quickly, she thought dryly, a little alarmed at the results her efforts had wrought.

Even Logan looked at the throng with a little apprehension.

Max turned to the both of them.

"I go first," she told them decisively, "then Logan, then you, OC," she said to her friend.

Reaching forward to pick up the black bag from the chair it was on, she whispered in Cindy's ear, "Stay close to Logan."

Straightening she said, "Let's go."

----------------------------------------------------------- --------------

Senator Barton looked unhappy.

"This is all a damn hoax," he fumed to his right-hand man who was still becomingly dressed as an alien.

"They've still gotta get down in the elevator," he told the senator. "Even in this crowd, we can't miss a guy in a wheelchair."

"Get him," the senator ground out savagely, "or you'll be spending the next 20 years of your life in jail with me thanks to that meddlesome Eyes Only. It would give me great satisfaction to grab one of his operatives!"

"Well, we can't let that happen to you now, can we?" the alien said with suave confidence as his eyes roamed the mass of people below the dais they were standing on.

"Look, there he is," he called suddenly, diving down into the crowd before the senator could pass another comment.

----------------------------------------------------------- ------------

Greg, the alien, ran into the crowd, pushing people out of his way with ruthless force to reach the man in the wheelchair that he'd seen.

Once he was down amongst the crowd, it was almost impossible to see anyone who was below the average height.

Cursing the stupidity of people who panicked, he forged ahead, and was rewarded with the sight of a man in a wheelchair, slowly making his way towards the doors.

The alien reached out a long hand and brought it down with force on the man's shoulders.

The man stopped and looked up at the alien.

Greg was completely taken aback when the man in the wheelchair jumped up with a smile on his face and said, "So. I'm finished?"

------------------------------------------------------------ -----------------

By staying in the very midst of the crowd, Max, Logan and OC made it to the elevator without incident as Logan was virtually hidden from the view of anyone not immediately around him.

Max searched the foyer area as they reached it.

It was still incredibly crowded here, but it was a little less dense as people had the option of taking the stairs for the arduous walk down, which many chose to do, or wait for one of the two elevators that had had to be turned on to avoid mass hysteria.

The first thing she saw was one of the aliens, intently watching everyone who got in the elevator.

"Hold back a bit," she said to Logan and OC when she saw the alien suddenly look in their direction and head urgently towards them.

Max immediately tensed, assuming a fighting stance. They were so close, she thought with frustration as she stood close to Logan.

Guessing a little of what was happening, OC stood next to Max with some vague hope of shielding Logan from the alien' s eyes, while all Logan could do was keep his head down, for all their sakes, in the hope of making himself less noticeable to anyone looking through the crowd, all the while worrying about any danger to Original Cindy. He'd never wanted her to be involved in all this.

The alien was running through the crowd now. People were having to move out of his way as he shoved past.

Max brought her fists up in readiness and Logan lifted his own head. If there was going to be a fight he intended to help in any way he could or at least get OC safely away.

Max stepped a little closer to Logan, her thoughts focused, only to watch in surprise and relief as the alien's eyes appeared to be on another person some distance to the left of them, and in a flash he had past by them without so much as a glance through the crowd.

"Dayum, that was close," OC muttered.

"Go!" snapped Max suddenly.

The elevator had opened and, without hesitation, Max ruthlessly hauled several beefy men out of the way.

OC had now grabbed the back of Logan's chair and pushed with all her might to help get him quickly over the thick carpet and into the now open elevator. They felt very exposed once they were no longer amongst the main throng.

Logan saw the doors in front of him start to close and he had a very vivid picture of himself being rammed at full pace into the closed metal doors.

Max was already in the elevator, preoccupied with giving a quick shove to anyone who tried to cram their way in and not leave enough room for Logan and OC.

"We won't make it," he called to OC, wondering if he should take his hands off the wheels.

"Damn straight we will," she hollered back as she pushed harder, then looked up with a smile as she saw Max holding the door back for them.

"What took you so long?" she smiled at them both as the doors now closed on the crowded elevator.

Logan took a deep breath and returned her smile with a wide grin of his own.

OC looked from one to the other as if they were mad.

"Dayum if that's the last costume ball I go to with you two!"

--------------------------------------------------------------- ------

They'd dropped Original Cindy off at her place, then drove on in silence to Logan's.

The car seemed particularly quiet after OC had got out, dismissing Logan's thanks with a wave of her hand.

"You just keep my homegirl outta trouble," she warned him, but the hint of a smile in her eyes robbed her words of any harshness.

Max looked out into the darkness of the Seattle night. She felt suddenly very uncomfortable.

"Well, at least you didn't lose a glass slipper," Logan smiled across at her.

"No, but you lost the contents of your wallet," she admitted to him.

Logan looked across at her curiously. "Just what did you say to the three guys you talked into using the wheelchairs?"

Max looked across at him. "I said we were making one of those awful reality shows they used to make and it was all about how people coped with disaster, and we needed to see how they would react to disabled people."

"Well, I could've answered that one for you," Logan said wryly. "They stampede you."

Max looked a bit repentant

"I'm not so sure the bomb hoax was a good idea."

"Did the trick. No one got hurt," Logan said reassuringly.

Max was quiet again for a while, then she blurted out suddenly, "You know I panicked."

Logan carefully avoided looking at her.

"It was a tight spot," he acknowledged.

"I didn't want Gwen's alien to see your face. I thought he might recognize you."

"Good point."

"And it was the only way I could think of getting rid of both Gwen and her alien," she continued, feeling a little more comfortable with his ready agreement.

"Quick thinking," Logan congratulated her, sounding sincere.

"Anyway, you got your bad guy. Bet you never tipped him to be an alien," Max laughed suddenly, all feelings of awkwardness now gone.

Logan turned to her seriously, but his eyes had a glimmer of something else as he told her cryptically, "Well, you know what they say...?"

Max looked across at him, awaiting his rhetorical response.

"The truth is out there."

THE END