Disclaimer:  Mine, all mine!  The voices in my head told me so.

A/N:  Okay, I definitely felt the love last time, so I wanna thank everyone who reviewed.  Keep it up and so will I.  I'm glad the sector thing worked out alright.  It's confusing, isn't it?

Friction

Chapter 4:  The Great Debate

They didn't speak once they were back in the hallway, the apartment door safely closed behind them.  They didn't speak in the elevator ride down, just stood side by side, staring straight ahead, hands to themselves.  They didn't even speak on their way from the elevator to the front door as they passed through the lobby.

But the silence ended as soon as they walked outside and reached Max's bike.

"Okay, what was that?" Alec finally asked.  Oh, if he thought about it, he was pretty sure he'd figure it out.  But right now, he was trying to keep all thoughts out of his head.  Let her explain it, in her own words.  Then he could sit back and shake his head with mock scorn, "Maxie, Maxie, Maxie, what have you done this time?"  She probably wouldn't like that.  Which was why he'd do it anyway.

He stood in front of her, blocking her path to the bike.  Max tried to brush past him, but he sidestepped, coming up in front once more.  Her enhanced speed wouldn't be a help to her now, since he could anticipate and react just as quickly.

"Alec—" she began, irritation flashing in her dark eyes.  Well, let her get irritated.  She was going to keep finding some reason or another to get angry at him, the whole blaming the fellow X5 thing—he might as well make the most of it.

"No, no, no, this is not one of those things you can pass of with a 'not now Alec.'  I think I deserve an answer—an explanation."  He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest resolutely.  "Either way, we're not going anywhere until you fill me in."

The look that flashed through her eyes read 'I want you to die—painfully,' but after a brief battle of wills, she seemed to give up on the fight.  Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly and she glanced away, not meeting his gaze as she spoke.  "You remember that night you spent at my place after I broke you out of jail?"

He nodded slowly, but since she wasn't looking at him, the gesture was futile.  "Yeah," he said, his mind replaying the events of that day.

"Well, the next morning, when you were leaving, Logan saw us together"—Alec stilled, his body growing utterly rigid, and he was suddenly very glad she wasn't looking at him, or else she would have noticed—"And when I went over to his place that night with the necklace Joshua got from Sandeman, he asked me… he asked me if there was something going on between us."  She looked up at him then, face expressionless but for the spark of pain in those dark eyes.  "You and me."

His eyebrows lifted as he stared back at her, connecting the proverbial dots in his head.  "And you said yes?"  Well, that would explain the hostility—correction, the more than usual hostility—he'd sensed coming off of Logan lately.  Though strangely, not nearly as much as he would have expected.  If Alec had been in Logan's place, and the situation reversed, he would have wanted him dead.  Or suitably maimed and disfigured, and in an adequate amount of pain to boot.

"No, not exactly," Max replied, interrupting his ruminations.  "But I didn't deny it either."  She shrugged.  "And he assumed the worst."  Glancing away again, she didn't take note of the wince he couldn't act fast enough to hide.

No, she hadn't meant it the way it sounded—she hadn't meant that he was the 'worst.'  Just the assumption Logan had made, that Max had cheated on him.  At least, that had been the intention.  But strangely, that didn't make him feel any better.

"So, what?" he recovered quickly, pulling off his how's-this-going-to-affect-me shrug.  "Now we have to pretend that you and me are a thing?"

She looked up at him sharply, eyes narrowed.  "No, I wouldn't want to put you out or anything," she said sarcastically.  No doubt, she was thinking about all the times she'd gone out of her way to save his ass.  And those were a lot of times, weren't they, he thought ruefully.  "Just don't say anything to contradict it, alright?  Just not in front of Logan.  I think you owe me that much."  Her shoulders straightened once more, and this time she succeeded in brushing past him because he made no attempt to stop her.  Getting on the bike, she added quietly, "It's better this way."

"For who?" he replied in an equally low voice, thoughtful as he watched her.  The way that muscle in her cheek twitched, they way she kept her eyes down like she couldn't bring herself to meet anyone's gaze.

"For everyone."

But that wasn't true.  It couldn't be better for Logan, to be led to believe something like that and hearing the words from the person you cared about most in the world.  And looking at her, he knew it certainly wasn't better for Max.  And Alec—he wasn't sure what he was feeling.  Except that it wasn't better.

*************

"So what's the address?" Max asked a few minutes after they'd passed into Sector 2, moving beyond the outer limits into the more heavily populated areas.  She slowed the bike, awaiting directions.  "Alec?"

"I'm working on it," he muttered in response, holding up the piece of paper and examining the words as if they were hieroglyphs, and he Indiana Jones searching for clues to the location of the buried treasure of Pharaoh Humphafalefatut.  Or something like that.  They didn't really push ancient Egyptian studies back at Manticore.  "Deciphering Logan's chicken scratch is like trying to find that four-eyed dork with the stupid sweater in those pictures."

"Waldo."

"Huh?" he replied, brow furrowing as he glanced up at her.

"You're talking about 'Where's Waldo,'" Max answered, eyes still trained on the road.

"Yeah, sure, I guess.  We're not on a first-name basis or anything."  His gaze returned to the address.  He glared angrily at the so-called letters, willing them to rearrange themselves until they were legible and articulate.  Maybe this was Logan's twisted little idea of revenge, of getting back at him for supposedly hooking up with Max.  Yes, he could see it now: Logan sitting in front of his computer, drinking his pre-Pulse wine, eating his elaborate Italian, homemade dinner, and hatching his "brilliant little scheme," to plot the downfall of X5-494's sanity.  "What does he think he is?  A doctor?" he mumbled.

"Oh, it's not that bad," Max replied touchily.

Already agitated, Alec snapped, "Oh for crying out loud, Max, you don't have to defend the guy's writing.  I'm sure he can still be a decent human being despite the fact that it looks like he dipped a spider in ink and let it crawl across the paper."  He was greeted with an ungraceful snort, but no other reply, which he supposed was the closest Max would ever come to admitting he was right.  He turned the sheet upside down.  "Maybe it's in Arabic or something."

He heard a sigh from the front of the bike.  "Logan doesn't know Arabic."

"Well, then someone should tell him to stop writing in it."  Only vaguely was he was aware of the bike slowing to a complete stop, and the fact that they had pulled off to the side of the road.  "Glendale!" he declared suddenly, with triumph.  "I think."

"Let me see that."  Max turned to take the piece of paper, her hair brushing up against his nose.  She didn't seem to notice.  "What are you talking about?" she said incredulously after a while.  "That says Bluehill."

"Bluehill?" he returned, taking back the paper.  "Get your eyes checked, Maxie.  It's definitely Glendale."

"'Definitely Glendale'?  A minute ago it was 'I think' Glendale.  What happened to change your mind?" she said, turning in the seat to glare at him.

"Well, at first it was 'I think,' but the more I look at it, the more obvious it becomes… it's definitely Glendale," he finished confidently.  "Besides, where the hell's 'Bluehill'?"

"Where the hell's 'Glendale'?" she returned.

They stared at each, neither answering the other's question, neither backing down.  After a few long, very long, seconds of silence, they both seemed to realize just how uncomfortably little space Max's ninja's seat afforded between them.  They broke the gaze at the same time.

Finally, Alec let out a laugh to break the sudden tension.  "You know, considering what we do for a living and all, you'd think we'd know this."

"Not our fault," Max insisted.  "People from Bluehill"—Alec looked at her and she rolled her eyes—"or Glendale, should use more messenger services."

"Definitely," he agreed.  Climbing off the bike, all the while telling himself it was just to stretch his legs, he said, "Okay, I guess we could call Logan and ask him."  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and extended it toward Max.

"You do it," she said quickly, almost shrinking away from the little metal device.

"Me?"  Alec shook his head.  "No way.  He hates my guts right now"—okay, slight exaggeration, but he was trying to make a point—"thanks to a certain somebody creating some false impressions.  Besides," he added, giving her a stern look, "you can't keep avoiding him forever.  Getting his help was your idea, after all."  He wagged the phone at her, but when she gave him a slight, unconscious pout, his resolve almost shattered right there.  Those lips should be considered lethal weapons, he thought to himself.  They had the potential to destroy men where they stood.

"That's not why," she denied.  "I just don't want to look like the idiot, calling him up because I couldn't read the address he wrote down."

"Oh, and it's okay if I look like the idiot?"

"Alec, you are the idiot."  If it weren't for the good-natured grin on her face as she spoke, he might have been offended.  "And you should really be used to it by now, so I don't see what you're complaining about."  Okay, he was still slightly offended.

He scowled.  "Gee, thanks."  But he pulled back his phone and dialed the number anyway.  "Hey, Logan!" he said with false cheerfulness, trying to draw on the blissful ignorance he'd enjoyed just earlier today.  Turning his back, he walked away from Max as he spoke.  "Just a quick question buddy…"

When he'd clicked the phone off and returned it to his pocket, he joined Max, who waited with one eyebrow raised.  "Well?"

"Hedgemont."

"What?" she replied incredulously.  "No way is that 'Hedgemont'!"

Alec nodded.  "That's what I said."  Yep, definitely some twisted little vengeance scheme.

TBC