BRICK
It was the anniversary of their first intimate moment.
Not their first fight – although that was memorable; nor that Heat encounter, when his father had walked in afterward and outlined his intentions for them both.
Today was the anniversary of the first time they chose – independent of everyone and everything – to be together, to try it and see what it was like.
Max smiled, caught in the recollection – of similar expressions gracing both their faces; of fear and anticipation and a little bit of mischief. Some non-descript place that only X-5 abilities could commit to memory.
It seemed such an unremarkable location for what had turned out to be such a significant decision.
"Hot run!" Normal broke through her pleasant thoughts, thrusting a package into her hands. Max had to tighten her grasp, an instinctive reflex, as it was heavier than she'd assumed.
Half an hour, two guards, and a bruised knuckle later; Max was making her way down the stairs of a warehouse she not only recognised but had been to before.
The bottom floor was just the same as her last visit – gloomy and mostly empty, looking like an abandoned and rarely used secret lair.
The picnic cloth was new, and the lavish spread laid out on it – complete with china and a candelabra.
She only had a moment to wonder what the hell was going on, before the whistle of air announced the arrival of a high speed limb – and she ducked, spinning round to face and defend against this unexpected attack.
He was grinning – clearly pleased with himself.
"You set me up!" she demanded.
His answer was an aerial roundhouse that would have connected with her jaw if she hadn't danced out of the way.
Max was grinning now.
While this didn't exactly mirror the original version – they weren't landing blows for a start – Max figure most of that was because, of the two of them, only she had photographic recall. But he was certainly trying hard enough to make it realistic.
Finally she stumbled twisting away from a punch ending up cheek down on the floor just like last time.
Glancing around for the 2x4 she expected in this reconstruction, she was surprised to hear his deep chuckle instead, and rolled over to watch him approach and extend a hand to help her up.
Keeping her hand, he lead her over to the picnic – set, ironically, in the exact place that Wendy had hidden in; but Max was probably the only one who remembered that little detail, and she didn't really want to spoil this moment with mention of his murdered ex-wife.
Max was happy to accept the glass he handed her "Where did you find champagne in this broken world?" she murmured; before a teasing smile slid across her face as she tilted her head toward her bag.
"I'm gonna need a signature..." she said with a raised eyebrow, idly wondering if his alias was significant or just a random invention.
"It's for you..." he told her and she practically threw her glass at him, in her hasty scramble to reach her present. He chuckled – that deep and husky laugh that always sent warmth to her belly. Her hand paused on the wrapping – that sound was often a warning.
Max tore the paper off and turned to glare at the man who had sent her on this goose chase – with Normal's help, she realised with a scowl. Damn them both!
"Because there was no plank, this time..." he said, laughter in his voice, and his smile was positively wicked.
Max spared one last glance at the object in her hand before tossing it behind her and lunging for him, rolling them away from the food as they tussled, laughing.