Max awoke suddenly, in the middle of the night. His entire body felt charged, electrified. Which could only mean one of two things: either he'd had that wet dream about Sonny Munroe and Tawni Hart making it with him in the hot tub again, or someone in the house had cast a spell. A quick check of his underpants confirmed the latter. Sitting upright, Max tossed his covers aside, swung his legs over the side of his bed, and proceeded to wade through the piles of dirty laundry and other assorted crap covering his floor. He laid his hand on the doorknob and twisted it ever-so-gently to the right, endeavoring to open the door with nary a sound, so that he could sneak down the hall to Alex's room, and—
And then suddenly he was back in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking to himself that whatever was going on in Alex's room wasn't really important, and that he should really go back to sleep and forget the whole thing. Yawning, he stretched his arms, closed his eyes and settled back into his pillow, already imagining the scandalized giggle that would escape Tawni Hart's lips as Sonny Monroe accidentally-on-purpose snagged the tie of her barely-there bikini top—
"Waaaaaaaaaaiiiiit a minute!"
Max sat bolt upright in bed, and scowled across the room at his doorknob. He pictured himself getting up, opening the door, and storming down the hall to Alex's room, where—
He found himself staring up at the ceiling again. Where had that brown stain come from, anyway? Oh right, the Nutella incident. Mmm, Nutella. He should go down to the kitchen right now and fix himself a Nutella sandwich, which would be much more interesting than anything that might be going on in Alex's room...
"Uh-huh, just like I thought," Max sighed as he sat back up and looked at his doorknob again. "Classic keep-away spell."
OK, so clearly something was going on in Alex's room that somebody didn't want him to see. Which, mission-from-Dad or no mission-from-Dad, meant that he really, really wanted to see it. But how? Clearly, he wasn't going to able to simply mosey on down to Alex's room, and—
"Oh, goddammit," Max groaned, as he found himself staring at the ceiling again, overcome with the urge to coat Sonny Monroe head-to-toe in Nutella, and lick it all off. (Because, hello? Two great tastes that taste great together? Um, yes please.)
OK, this was getting annoying. Somehow, he had to figure out a way to see what was going on you-know-where without him actually having to even think about going anywhere near you-know-where. If only there was a spell for that...
Wait, hold the phone. There was a spell for that, wasn't there?
Sitting up and snatching his wand off his nightstand, knocking aside about a half-case's worth of empty Mountain Dew cans in the process, Max pointed it at the photo of himself and his family from Puerto Rico (in their matching orange vacation outfits) that sat on his dresser, and struggled to remember a spell that Conscience had tried to teach him three or four months ago.
"Please, please, tell me now," he said uncertainly. "Is there something I should know... uh...Duranium, Duranias?"
For a second, nothing happened, and Max was convinced he'd gotten the spell wrong. (Because, seriously, 'Duranium, Duranias'? Yeah, that couldn't be right.) But then, as if the laws of physics and probability had simply shrugged and said ' sure, kid, whatever', the image in the frame began to darken and swirl. Gone was the photo of Max and his family in terrible patterned polyester, replaced by a direct live feed from Alex's bedroom. Where, apparently, Justin was dodging for dear life in the darkness as Alex snatched her digital alarm clock off her nightstand and hurled it at him.
"Get out!" Alex snarled at him, angrier than Max had ever seen her. Which was saying something.
"I'm sorry!" Justin said, holding his hands out before him. "I didn't mean to—!"
"GET OUT!" Alex growled again, loud enough that Max heard it in stereo, both through the picture frame as well as reverberating down the hall. She grabbed hold of her lamp this time, and cocked her arm as if to throw it.
"I didn't mean to wake you up!" Justin protested, even as he cringed. "I was hoping not to, actually!"
"Oh, so what?" Alex sneered, lowering the lamp slightly. "You were just gonna sneak in here and slip it to me while I was asleep? Is that it?"
Max frowned at this. Wait, slip it to her? Oh man, he hoped she was just talking about Justin giving her a wet willie...
"What? No! I'd never—!" Justin said, in that breathy, scandalized voice of his. And even to Max, he sounded phenomenally hurt. "Do you really think I'd—?"
Alex watched him for a moment, silently, then slumped her shoulders and set the lamp back down on her nightstand.
"No," she admitted quietly, then snorted. "You're way too much of a goody two-shoes for that, aren't you?"
Justin chuckled bitterly, and shook his head. "I can't win with you, can I?"
"Never have, never will," Alex said, matter-of-factly, lying back down and gathering her sheets around herself. "What are you doing here, Justin?"
Justin shrugged, almost imperceptibly. "I couldn't sleep."
"So? How's that my problem?" Alex scoffed, rolling over onto her side, turning her back to him. "Go tug one out and leave me alone already, egghead. You know how. God knows, I've watched you do it often enough."
Max's eyebrows jumped so high on his forehead that they threatened to launch into orbit. Wow. OK, so they were definitely not talking about wet willies, anymore.
"That's not why I'm here, Alex," Justin said, his voice raw with emotion. "I just...I wanted to hold you. That's all."
Alex didn't respond right away, and for a moment, as Justin stared at her helplessly, Max wondered if she'd actually fallen asleep again. But then, just as Justin's shoulders slumped in defeat and it looked like he was about to turn around and leave the room, Alex sighed dramatically and reached behind her to lift up the corner of her covers.
"Get in here, already," she growled, without turning to face him, "before I change my mind."
Justin grinned in relief, then hurried to crawl into bed next to her, spooning his body into hers as she dropped the covers over him.
"This doesn't mean you're forgiven, egghead," she said pointedly, although most of the heat had gone out of her voice. "I'm still mad at you."
"I know," Justin said, as he nuzzled the back of her neck. "I'm frustrated, too."
"Just not frustrated enough," Alex scoffed bitterly.
"Alex, c'mon...that's not fair, and you know it," Justin sighed. "You know I'd do anything for you. There isn't a law I wouldn't break, no consequence I wouldn't accept, if it meant being with you. But asking me to magically banish our little brother to fend for himself for three days, just so we can spend the weekend screwing like rabbits? That's a bit frivolous, don't you think?"
At this, Max's jaw dropped so hard that he was certain they must have heard it hit the floor all the way down the hall. Holy crap, so that's why they wanted to send him to South Dakota?
"You didn't have a problem with me doing the dirty work, though," Alex pointed out, oblivious. And the fact that she wasn't the least bit shocked by Justin's pronouncement in the least was almost more shocking than the pronouncement itself.
"Well, no," Justin admitted, the covers rising slightly as he shrugged his shoulders beneath them. "You have to admit, though: it is kind of what you're good at."
"Aaaaaaand we're back to wanting to kick your ass out, again..." said Alex.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Justin said quickly, sounding a little panicked. "I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just...all this sneaking around we've been having to do, all the lies we've had to tell, all the rules we're breaking...it doesn't come as naturally to me as it does to you, Alex. If anything, it goes against my nature, and I'm still...adjusting, I guess."
They lapsed into silence again for a moment, their breathing the only sound coming from the picture frame. Max stared at it in absolute shock, senses reeling, feeling sick to his stomach as the immensity of what he'd discovered began to sink in, threatening to turn his entire world upside down.
"I suppose it does kind of fly in the face of your whole, dorky 'What would Captain Jim Bob Sherwood do?' philosophy, doesn't it?" Alex said finally.
"Uh, no shit!" Max muttered to himself.
"Just a tad, yeah," Justin agreed with him flatly, even though he wasn't aware of it. "For one thing, I'm pretty sure the Comics Code Authority tends to frown on this sort of thing."
"I have absolutely no clue what that even means," Alex said, shaking her head. Then, after a moment, she added: "I wasn't going to charm him, y'know. Even if I'd had my wand. I was just planning to talk him into being somewhere else for the weekend. I'm not a complete sociopath, thank you very much."
Max snorted at this and shook his head sharply at the way she managed to say that with a straight face while spooning in bed with their older brother. Because, dude, seriously...
"Wow, bonus points for your correct use of the word 'sociopath'," Justin said, impressed.
"Ugh, Justin..." Alex groaned impatiently.
"Look, if it's really that important to you, I can always flash him to the Beekerman Jamboree," Justin continued. "We'll send a note with him for Harper, so she can cover. Max'll be pissed when he wakes up there, sure, but at least we'd know where he was, and I think he'd probably have a good time in the long run, anyway."
Max's breath caught in his throat, as he reflexively tightened his grip around his wand, his mind racing to remember if he'd ever been taught a way to guard against being teleported against his will. It sounded like the kind of thing Dad would have covered, but...crap. For probably the first time in his life, he found himself wishing he paid closer attention during Wizard Lessons.
"No, it's OK," Alex sighed in resignation. "We really do need Max's help with the Sub Station, anyway. There's no way in hell we could have managed all that today without him."
"True," Justin agreed. "I hate to admit it, but it was probably wishful thinking to believe that we could."
Loosening his hold on his wand, Max let out a small breath in a combination of relief and surprise. Huh. OK, so maybe Justin hadn't been P-wording him, after all...
"Besides, I don't wanna ruin Harper's weekend, either," Alex continued. "I honestly think the main reason she went in the first place was to get away from magical shenanigans for a few days..."
"Hello, what's this?" Justin teased her. "Alex Russo, acting all responsible? Putting the needs of others ahead of her own? Who are you, strange lady, and what have you done with my baby sister-slash-girlfriend?"
"Gah!" Max said, actually wincing and sticking out his tongue at this. Because yeah, while he'd gotten there on his own, thanks, actually hearing Justin confirm it out loud? Eyyugh.
"Shut up, jackass. You're not the only one operating outside your comfort zone, here," Alex snapped, elbowing him in the ribs. "Though I can't tell you how pissed I am that Harper and Zeke, of all people, are going to wind up getting laid more often this weekend than I am." "Ugh, that is really not something I want to think about,"
"Aw, dude...," Max grimaced, wrenching his eyes shut against the sudden visual he really hadn't needed. "No. Just...no."
"Just as well," Alex yawned, twisting around to look at him over her shoulder. "My ass is beat, and we need to be up again in just a few hours."
"Yeah," Justin groaned. "Stupid restaurant."
"Stupid Canadian tourists," Alex griped.
"Stupid Max," they both added in the same breath. Then, laughing quietly, they both lifted their heads off their pillows, craned their necks, and pressed their lips together in a soft, chaste goodnight kiss...
And that, finally, was about as much as Max could stand. He grabbed the edge of the picture frame and slammed it down onto his nightstand, hard enough that he heard glass crunch beneath. Swinging his legs off his bed, he stormed furiously across his room, grabbed the knob and yanked it open. And this time he didn't wind up back in bed, staring up at the brown Nutella stain on his ceiling, or fantasizing about all the terrible things he'd do to Sonny Monroe, given even half a chance.
Because whatever it was going on in Alex's room at that particular moment? Yeah, definitely not something that he wanted any part of, thanks.