Chapter One

It had definitely been planned. They knew who he was. His position had been compromised somehow and his identity discovered. Alec had been ambushed by four men with metal rods as he had left his apartment for morning shift at Terminal City. Even with superhuman senses you can be caught off guard in the morning haze of sleep and monotonous routine.

He was fairly sure this had nothing to do with the government; in the current climate the police weren't in the habit of keeping transgenics alive when caught. They shot on sight and checked their facts later. Alec was also fairly certain that it wasn't White's breeding cult either. It just didn't smell of them. So there was a new kid on the block then. "Great" thought Alec, "Just what we need, another bad guy after us. Like we don't have quite enough as it is."

When Alec had awoken he found his hands had been cuffed behind his back and his legs chained together, Alec shuffled around his imprisonment, analysing any possible escape routs or weak spots. The cell was akin to a police cell. It contained a simple, hard bed, a sink and a toilet. The door was made of thick steel and what looked like a small food hatch at the bottom. Since he had awoken, Alec had worked out that he had been cooped up in the cell for at least four hours. Even with no window to check the light by, transgenics had a keen concept of time. When locked in a child sized cupboard for a week at a time, or strapped to a medical bed for genetic testing in Manticore, you soon learn alternative methods of counting down the hours.

Alec slumped down the wall into a seated position leaning his head on the wall. He cringed as he was reminded of the wound on his crown from the attack. He sighed loudly. "Oh well" he said with confidence, "I've been in worse situations." His face wrinkled as he failed to actually recall a worse situation. Instead he decided on a different outlook. "I'll be alright" he claimed with a smile, "I'm always alright."

"He's late" Max fumed as she sat at the restaurant table gulping down wine impatiently. When she was late it was like opening a door to grief-city. And he had been the one to arrange the meeting, the place and the time. He said it was important. So why on earth was she sitting like some dumped double-date twenty minutes after they had planned to meet.

A moment later Max clocked the familiar figure walking towards her a huge bunch of flowers in hand. "Hi Max. You look beautiful," Logan beamed, carefully handing her the flowers with a leather glove clad hand. "Your late." Max grumped dropping the bouquet by her chair grumpily and crossing her arms, "And you have flowers" she continued, visibly unimpressed, "Did someone die?" Logan looked hurt for a moment, then perked up. "I see you've started on the wine" he said as he poured the remaining drip from the bottle into his glass, "I'll get us some more. Excuse me…."

"Logan, spit it out. Leave out the flowers and the wine. What do you want?"

Logan paused for more than a moment. He had never been one to mince with words. It was a habit nurtured by having money. You ask, you get. But not with Max. Talking business with her was fine; he could ask his transgenic sidekick for any favour without fear of guilt or retribution, but it had always frustrated him how he had an impotence with words when he tried to talk to her about feelings. "I've missed you" he finally whispered, his eyes fixed firmly on the flickering centrepiece.

"I know I've not had much chance to get out and about, with setting up a base and all" Max replied sympathetically, "but you can always call."

"I don't want to call Max. I don't want a chat, I don't want you to go on missions," he was calm, but there was an edge of anger in his voice, " I miss you Max, I miss us."

Max shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. It was not her turn to avoid eye-contact. Silence throbbed uncomfortably around the couple.

"Logan…." Max said uncomfortably, "We talked about this. It wouldn't work… You know with the whole touch and die issue…."

"We could work something out" Logan pleaded, "I've got sources still working on it.."

"….and, its…. like I told you.. with me and Alec" she lied.

"Max. He got shot at Jam Pony and you didn't even blink"

"He's a big strong boy. He can look after himself" Max shrugged defensively.

"You held my hand when the flag was hoisted, not his"

"Habit" She spat, a flare of anger beginning to burn.

Max's eyes flickered at his presumptuous accusations. His arrogance sometimes astounded her. How dare he call her a liar! How dare he just burn the curtain of deceit that she had painstakingly woven! How dare he suggest that he is the only man that she could love "Alec and I are very happy" she hissed, gulping down a freshly replenished glass of wine.

"Alec would never buy you flowers, or take you out for dinner, or care for you." Logan continued. He was becoming more and more confident of himself as he saw how riled Max was getting. He was obviously touching a nerve. "His idea of a romantic evening is a packet of popcorn and a zombie horror movie."

Max stood up from the table aggressively, spilling the wine from the table. "Alec doesn't need to. He makes me feel wanted. Which is more than you have ever done with your business before pleasure attitude." She paused for a moment as she brewed up a more venomous response. "You only decided you wanted me when you thought I was dead!"

Max was surprised at how easily the poisonous words came from her lips. She was surprised that she knew she meant them, and she was surprised that she was suddenly relieved that the virus had kicked in when she had busted out of Manticore. Otherwise they would be back to the 'it isn't like that between us' awkwardness. "You only want me because someone else has me!" she claimed as she spun round and streaked out the restaurant.

Logan sat stunned. Alone at the table. He sipped his wine. And he ordered his meal.