Warm. This morning was very…warm.

Max's brain always seemed to awaken in sections. First, her consciousness would unfold and remind her of where she was: someplace warm. Second, her senses kicked in. She could smell some sort of cologne, something sweet with just a touch of spice. The room was silent except for the bare whisper of her breathing. Third, her eyelids regained control enough to uncover her dark brown eyes. She found herself face-to-face with the slumbering Terry.

Part of Max realized this situation was unusual—if only because this normally happened in her bed when Terry was too tired after patrol to make it back to his house—but it was all secondary because he looked really cute asleep. A fond smile tugged at her lips. His face was slack except for his eyebrows, which were slightly furrowed as he dreamt. He looked just like Matt when he slept. His jet-black hair had fallen across his forehead and into his eyes. He needed a haircut soon, she noted absently, tucking a wayward strand behind his ear.

Terry stirred slightly and buried the left side of his face further into the pillow. The comforter slid down a few inches as a result, revealing the rising peak of his shoulders and back. Max's eyes were drawn to the movement—or at least that was the excuse her sleep-muddled mind came up with to explain her staring—and she noticed just how many muscles he'd acquired over the past year. Terry had always been in good shape, but the job was demanding enough that he had bulked up. More than that, though, she noticed the scars—some a faded pink color, some white, all of them noticeable as they were stretched across the skin of his back. There was a particularly nasty on that peeked out from his tank top that hadn't healed yet so the skin was shiny. She glanced down to make sure he was still asleep and pushed up on her hands, using her index finger to lift his shirt a bit. She winced when she noticed several bruises trailing down one shoulder. He'd definitely had a rough night.

"It's not polite to stare, you know."

Max jumped and dropped her arm immediately as Terry's sleepy voice filled her ears all of the sudden. He stared at her with a questioning but amused expression, not seeming annoyed or surprised at her behavior. The boy was just plain unflappable sometimes.

"Sorry," she mumbled, hoping he couldn't tell she had started to blush. "I didn't know they were that bad."

Terry shrugged, stifling a yawn. "You get used to 'em."

Max frowned. "I don't know about that. What happened?"

He sat up and rolled one shoulder, flinching as it popped audibly. "Got tossed into a wall by this alligator splicer claiming to be the son of Killer Croc. Got the animal wrong and everything."

She felt the ghost of a smile touching her lips. "Doesn't anybody read any more?"

"Guess not."

"What about this one?" She pointed to the curved scar below his left armpit. He glanced downward, thinking about it.

"What? You don't remember that one? You patched me up. It was the bank robbery last week with that guy who had the hook."

Max nodded. "Oh, right. The one who looked like he came out of a bad scary movie. Geez, all of these incidents are starting to blend together. Keep it up and you're gonna look like Mr. Zsasz."

Terry winced, resisting the urge to shudder. "I hope I never get that bad. So far it's just my back, there aren't that many on the front."

"Don't be so sure." Without thinking, she tugged the hem of his shirt higher and pointed to the purplish bruise on his hip peeking up from his pajama pants. He frowned and examined it as well, displeased.

"Better wear a sweater today. If Mom sees this, she'll freak," he lamented. It took Max a few seconds to notice she still had his shirttail in her hand and was far too interested in the curve of his hip. She tried to rationalize it by her interest in medical things but the more primitive part of her brain wanted to touch it just to see if his skin was as soft as it looked even though she knew for a fact that it was. She'd taken care of him, bruised and bloodied, and she knew how soft it was.

She regained control over her embarrassing teenage-boy-hungry thoughts and let go just as he opened his mouth to say something. "Last night, you said we had to talk. What's wrong?"

Max stared at him, feeling as if he had whacked her between the eyes. There was no way in Hell she could talk to him about the mixed signals he'd been sending when he was this sleep-deprived and pretty. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and cleared her throat, scratching the back of her head and avoiding eye contact.

"I, uh, can't remember. It probably wasn't important."

He arched an eyebrow at her, his voice full to the brim with disbelief. "Uh-huh."

She glared at him. "What?"

Terry smirked. "You're a terrible liar, you know."

Max crossed her arms. "Some people would consider that a good quality, McGinnis. Speaking of which, you never did explain why you and Dana broke up."

The smile vanished, replaced with a guarded look. She hated it when he did that. "It's not important."

Max let out a frustrated sigh, moving to get off the bed. "Fine. Whatever."

She started to stand up but he caught her wrist, tugging her back towards him. Her heart thundered in her chest at the sudden contact and the serious look that had crept into those baby blues.

"Max—"

There was a knock at the door. "Ter, honey, are you up?"

Max closed her eyes for a second. His mother had the worst timing. Terry heaved a sigh and let go of her arm, standing up and going to the door.

"Yeah, Mom, what's up?"

"You should go ahead and get dressed. We're leaving in half an hour."

"Alright."

"Where's Max? Did you take her home?"

The teenager's cheeks colored considerably. "Ah, no. She crashed in here. I'll take her home so she can get changed."

Surprise stole across his mother's face, though it was later replaced with a decidedly sly expression. "Okay. I'll go get your brother ready."

He shut the door and silently prayed Max hadn't seen the look on his mother's face. When he turned around, she had already gotten out of bed and was pulling her socks and shoes back on. He felt like he needed to say something but he had no idea where to start. She didn't wait for him.

"I'll make us some coffee while you get dressed." She slid past him and out of the door. He stood there for a moment before palming his forehead and collapsing backwards on the bed with a groan.

"Great job, McGinnis."

"Spunky looks good in her bright red wig

Eating chocolate chip mint ice cream

A cat named Lola with a violent past

Is balled up asleep 'cross her knees

And it's a free for all, free for all, free for all

It's a free for all, you and me

One day the world will be ready for you

And wonder how they didn't see…"

The soft sounds of Eels, an old but great band, serenaded her quiet evening. She sat in bed wearing her distinct pajamas with her cat in her lap reading through The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. After a moment, she reached over to the nightstand and took a deep swig from a glass of eggnog before returning to the novel.

Just as she started to turn the page, her phone rang. She groaned, tossing the book aside. For most of the day, she had been returning chain text messages wishing her a Merry Christmas and trying her best not to Grinch up the place, but it wasn't really working. On the surface, she pretended not to even notice the holiday but she knew deep down it bothered her. It bothered her that her mother had only left a twenty-credit card on the table for dinner telling her to 'order a pizza or something', it bothered her that her father merely sent a text message and couldn't be bothered to call his own daughter, and it bothered her that her older sister had ditched her to go ice skating with friends and didn't invite her along. She'd even had to hide it all from her best friend, who would be highly offended and sympathetic to her plight if only she asked. But Max didn't want sympathy. She wanted peace. Peace on Earth and good will towards me. Like hell.

She scooped up the phone with a frown, expecting another annoying Christmas text, but instead she found a message from Terry.

Did you open your Christmas present?

-T

Max couldn't hide a smirk, her thumbs going to work on the keys.

Yes. I must say I am impressed. You've been doing detective work, haven't you?

-M

Well, I don't like to brag, but I am the goddamn Batman.

-T

She laughed, causing her cat to open one eye lazily at the sudden noise.

I haven't forgotten.

-M

Good. You heading to Chelsea's Christmas party later?

-T

No, it's not my scene. You know they all get sloppy-drunk by the end of it and I don't want to drive anyone puking up eggnog home.

-M

Well, I was only gonna go if you were going so that's fine. Got to pay the old man a visit anyway.

-T

Her eyebrows perked upward at this news. Did you get him a present too? -M

Maybe. :D

-T

She rolled her eyes. Damn tease. -M

Guilty as charged. In any case, happy holidays Ms. Gibson. I'll see you in the New Year.

-T

And you as well, Mr. McGinnis.

-M

With that, she set the phone back down and took another sip of her eggnog. A couple drops spilled on her shirt and she made a small sound of dismay.

"Great job, Gibson. Mess up your Christmas gift from Terry the first day you're wearing it," she groused, brushing off the liquid as best as she could. Her cat mewled in annoyance and hopped out of her lap, curling up on the foot of the bed. She shouldn't have cared that much about the pajamas. They weren't expensive or anything. He'd probably gotten them at Wal-mart. But…they were pretty special, if only because they were her only real Christmas present. Terry had a knack for giving her just what she needed without a second thought. She wanted to thank him for it, but he'd find a way to tease her about it. She sort of loved and hated that about him.

Then Max realized she'd been thinking about Terry for an entire five minutes so she stubbornly picked up her book and kept reading.

"Bah, humbug."

Her cat merely glanced at her and meowed. She shrugged.

"I know, but I had to say it."

A/N: Sorry if this chapter was a little disappointing, but I hope the first part made up for the lackluster second part. Also, you should notice a little shout out to DJRabidPunk's awesome story Sleep just because the fic summary cracked me up. Kudos, my friend.

Honestly, this story just sort of evolves on its own, I am only holding the brush. Er, the pen. Whatever. Still, thanks for sticking by me and keep it up with all the reviews. The more reviews, the more I am motivated to finish it. So please, motivate me.

Btw, the song in Max's flashback is "Spunky" by Eels. Check it out if you get the chance.

Kyoko