Author's Notes:

Hey guys, after a two week 'break', Rick's back in a flash, and as Dangerous as ever. I say break but I was actually working on the fic fairly solidly through all that time, I'm just not very fast at writing. I've also made a few changes to the last two sections of the chapter eight, in response to reviews, so you may want to check that out too. This one's going to be a quieter chapter, but I can't have Chloe hospitalise people in every chapter. I'll run out of cast.

The usual begging request for reviews and critique is going to be even more desperate this time: the site's traffic analytics are broken, so reviews are really the only thing that will tell me if people are actually reading this. So please consider leaving a review if you read. They are always appreciated!


Responses to the chapter 8 reviews:

GrumpyCat42: I think she was supposed to be emotionally messed up by William Price's death in the canon game. Maybe that's why she and Chloe kept in touch a little more in the episode three alternate universe? That's the interpretation I'll probably use in this fic anyway.

NoPros: Yeah Nathan's a bit out of control in this. I have to wonder if he'll manage to keep his mouth shut now he's been arrested.

Guardian of Azarath: Something more about Max's ability to rewind others might show up in later chapters, but I don't think they really trust David enough to let him in on Max's time powers at the moment (even though his relationship with Chloe is a bit better).

The MadReader: I like to think I'm portraying Warren completely consistently with how he's presented in canon, so I'm sure Ron the Deatheater won't be an issue.

n1bro: Both. And ChasePrice too! Why have a single ship, when you can have a flotilla!

Mukasmukid: Yeah Tori suffered a bit last chapter because it was kind of Chloe intro focused. Hopefully there'll be a nice balance between Max, Tori and Chloe eventually.

Grimlock3: Sorry I wasn't clear enough about the unedited video in the last chapter, they don't actually have video inside the bathroom. Just of them going through the door. I tried to fix the last chapter a bit to help make that clearer.

And I think even in the canon, Chloe was pretty gruff in episode one. She got a lot softer by episode three though.

wbrendon89: Chloe seems to have to make horrific sacrifices in every universe. She'll just have to get used to it, times are tough.

Cielstian Michaelhive: When all three of the main characters have names in the square brackets, it can mean only one thing! Though part of what made this story idea interesting to me, was seeing if I could somehow manoeuvre the three characters into a mutual romance without just having them announce "I'm poly" to one another and then jump in bed. I'm not confident I've been all that successful here, but having them evolve into a 'non classical' relationship in a slightly more drawn out manner was the plan anyway. Not that they aren't going to jump in the bed anyway. In fact they might do so in this very chapter O_O.

Harblack: But- but I thought I was just writing him in character, or even going easy on him. I mean he hasn't even tried to look through Max's window at her in her night clothes yet, which you can catch him doing in the canon ep 2.

LittleRedGodHood: Thanks, and I'm glad you enjoyed Victoria's obsession with Max's right hand. LOL. There's something about Victoria being attracted to and also frightened of Max's power, which is interesting. It's a completely different dynamic to the one with Chloe and Max, and I hope to explore it a bit more in the future.

Bythepowerofdust: Thanks for your critique! I think I got too carried away with carrying the story forward at pace there. I actually tried to change it a little to give Chloe and Max an extra moment together. There's actually a short humorous scene in this chapter that I think reads better if you re-read the edit to chapter 8 first.

KateMarshFan420: =kek. Also, I'm hoping to have some more of Kate when I get to day two. But I worry about not being able to write her that well. I'm not sure if I've really found my own bizarre interpretation of her, in the same way I have for Victoria and Chloe… yet.

Rauden: Thanks, it is taking me far too long to write these chapters. I really need to improve my speed. And Courtney seemed to be the one mean girl left in the Vortex Club in the episode three alternate timeline, where Max had clearly pacified Victoria and Taylor, so it seemed she'd be the one to try and displace Victoria here as well.

Rolling Guy: Oh good, I was worried I was writing Chloe OOC for a second.

Zippy Saboteur: Warren actually worried me a little when I was playing the game. Some of the things he does seem accidentally really creepy. Though he can't be that socially clumsy, he's apparently had a relationship with Alyssa, got Brooke chasing him, and in the episode three alternate universe he is going out with Stella.

Person and Aaron Leech: Thanks for the support!


A cacophony of shattering glass, followed by the sound of a car alarm, roused Victoria back to semi-consciousness. She squirmed on the ground, and her hands shot to her head in defensive reflex, desperate to stop the follow up attack to the one that had decked her. Nothing happened. How long had she been out for anyway? She twisted her head in the direction of the car alarm, and felt the world spin. She expected to see a deranged Nathan venting his anger on the defenceless parked vehicles. Instead she saw him hang limply, his upper body driven through the back passenger window of a dark grey car. Mr Jefferson's car, unless she was mistaken. Victoria tried to fathom what could take someone apart so thoroughly, so quickly. Her thought process was rendered redundant when Chloe Price entered her field of view. Oh right, she should have known the moment she saw the broken window.

Victoria looked back at Nathan and felt mostly emptiness. She'd done all she could for him, and had been betrayed and attacked in return. She didn't want to be left there with him. She heard an effeminate groan, saw that disgusting boy Warren lying next to her, and decided she wouldn't allow herself to be left there with them. She tried to sit up, leave on her own, but her head was still spinning. With no other option available, she called out to her apparent saviour.

"Wait, take me with you and Max. I don't want to be left here with…"

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Victoria, lifting her with little apparent effort, and holding her in a bridal carry tight against a singlet-clad body. Victoria shuddered involuntarily; she was unused to such intimate contact without prior ingestion of liquor. It was bad enough Max had been taking liberties in that regard, hugging her and holding her hand when she was emotionally vulnerable. Goosebumps ran up her arm as she remembered Max's delicate hand entrap her own, that fragile little hoof that could rewrite destiny on a whim. Great, now her mind was in a strange place. And being lifted and carried away by this blue haired behemoth like Fay Wray, and so soon after suffering concussion, did little to either assist her recovery or get her mind back on a normal track.

In an attempt to calm down, Victoria took a deep breath. This proved singularly counterproductive: her olfactory senses seized the opportunity to furnish her with a considered opinion of Chloe's scent, which some part of her mind seemed to take great interest in digesting. Chloe didn't really smell like any of the girls in Blackwell. Not that Victoria had gone around deliberately sniffing the entire Blackwell female population or anything, she just seemed to take note of it automatically. The residual scents of alcohol, weed and tobacco combined with the musky base notes from a modest application of male-brand deodorant. A slight hint of perspiration was still detectable, normally a red flag for Victoria, but in this case it just served as a reminder of how Chloe had struggled to save her. A princess rescued by a noble (though admittedly impoverished) knight? Normally Victoria would never entertain such an outmoded and sexist fantasy, but how could it be sexist if she was rescued by another woman? God, where was her mind going? No, Chloe definitely wasn't like the girls in Blackwell. If anything, she smelt like some of the more interesting boys Victoria had (briefly) gotten to know at parties. She became even more unsettled at that realisation.

Victoria found herself swooning, something she immediately blamed on the blow to the head Nathan had inflicted, and quickly filed away all the other strange thoughts she'd been having as being a result of that attack too. She resolved to put herself in a professional photography mindset. That would keep these errant thoughts at bay. She looked across from her bridal carry position toward Chloe's face in profile. Max was right, she was somehow decidedly handsome, in that weird, esoteric, Amazonian way models needed to be if they were going to be noticed. It might be nice to photograph her one day. Professionally of course, on a full set. For some reason, Victoria thought it the most important thing in the world to verbally convey her discovery of Chloe's photogenicity. It was just professional courtesy between a photographer and a prospective model, and the least she could do in return for saving her. Her mind was drowning in dizziness as she struggled to find just the right words.

"…You've got a really pretty face for a Gorilla."

Chloe must have been appreciative of the sincere and completely professional compliment, because she actually seemed to speed up, rushing her to the passenger door of her pickup truck and depositing her in the passenger's seat with an aggressive sense of haste. Victoria found her daze overcoming her once more, but was happy the last thing she remembered was Chloe calling her something that she didn't quite hear but was sure abbreviated as VIP.


Max saw to the still dazed Victoria's seatbelt while Chloe rushed to the driver's seat and gunned the ignition. By an incredible stroke of luck, the engine turned over first time and Chloe's rolling tetanus vector screeched out of the parking lot just as David Madsen and his deputies arrived.

"So, regroup at Castle Price?" Chloe asked.

"Mind stopping in the town centre first? I, um, need to grab something from the electronics store." Max asked as Chloe gently brought the pickup to road-legal speed.

"No problem, Maximillian."

There was a strange serenity as Chloe's truck departed the school. Probably because Victoria was still groggy as anything. Max incessantly checked on her, worried the prolonged grogginess was a sign of swelling within her skull or some other condition she'd seen on the dozens of generic hospital dramas that pervaded television. Chloe noticed Max's gentle, if obsessive handling of Victoria and couldn't help but comment.

"Damn, you're awfully friendly with the queen V, Maximus."

"We're not that friendly, we seem to spend most of our time throwing barbs and vitriol – she even told me to 'go fuck my selfie'."

"Wow. Baby's first meme level."

"I know right." Max smiled.

An eyebrow suddenly raised on Max's face, in a moment of clarity Leonard Nemoy would have been proud of. "You're not jealous of Tori are you?"

"No. Well, maybe? I didn't get to see you for five years Max. Now you're all super-charged and even more hella awesome, I kind of don't want to share you. And Tori? Really Max, that sounds like a doll brand or some shit."

"I know. And Tori hates it when I call her that."

Max had looked straight at Victoria each time she'd said 'Tori', searching for a sign she'd been heard. She'd already established that pissing off Victoria seemed the most effective treatment at snapping her back to reality. A few disgruntled scowls passed over her face, which Max interpreted as a sure sign of recovery.

" But you know, hanging around with her after school, saving her from certain death with your time powers, and nursing her after that beat down. Someone could conceivably wish they were getting some of that action."

Max found it a strange thing, that Chloe with all her no-fucks-given front, could bring out the puppy dog eyes on demand.

"Well, I also saved you with my powers Chloe. And it's after school and I'm hanging with you. As for nursing, you'd have to get yourself beaten down first. For some reason I just can't see that happening."

"Max. I'm not quite as invincible as my publicity suggests. I mean, I would have been shot in the bathroom without your distraction. And when I beat up Nathan, I used some hella dirty shots."

"So did Bruce Lee."

"Ok fine, I'm fucking 'Enter the Dragon' tier. But maybe I'll just throw a fight, just to receive the ministrations of the lovely nurse Max. Hey, if I'm hurt badly enough, I might even need a sponge bath."

"I don't think I've ever seen such a badass dork. Hey, Victoria's coming around."


Victoria returned to lucidity in what she considered a very good approximation of hell. The cabin of some incredibly shitty looking truck, with no air conditioning, and ugly cliché ornaments on the dashboard. Tasteless and artistically destitute graffiti covered the interior of the cabin; she pictured each inane scribble as the thoughts of some crass working class lout, yelling an uneducated and irrelevant opinion at their (struggling to remain) benevolent ruling intelligentsia. After all, that's what they became, if it was Victoria that was reading them. There was even a fucking Illuminati symbol scrawled in the back! She looked left at the vehicle's two other occupants. Great, the Doe-faced Fawn and the Hot Gorilla. This really was hell, and she'd been consigned to spend eternity with the two people who most fucked with her head. Maybe she could just pretend to have fallen into a coma. That way she could avoid any awkward-

"... Hey, Victoria's coming around."

Fuck. And of course Chloe was raring to have a go at her.

"You're looking pretty sick there Victoria – blood splattered Cashmere, and bandaged knuckles. Very Nouveau riche punk. Did you risk an unlicensed manicurist?"

Victoria' s eyes shot daggers at Chloe. She'd just woken up and Max's dumb muscle wanted to tangle? Fine! She knew she couldn't possibly beat her in a fist fight, but was fairly confident in her ability to verbally spar.

"I got them from extending aid to a local charity." Victoria shot back, baiting the trap.

"Oh? Paper cuts from an extreme cheque book mishandle?"

"Someone convinced me to help protect an endangered gorilla."

Chloe's face showed a hint of momentary annoyance. Victoria awarded herself a point for that round, and another point for managing not to jump out of the moving vehicle. Momentary annoyance on Chloe's face was occasionally known to have that effect.

"I hear some people find gorillas rather attractive. 'Really pretty' even." Chloe struck back.

Fuck. Had she actually said Chloe was 'really pretty'. Her memory of being carried off was blurry.

"Yes, well, if you get hit on the head hard enough, you'll find anything attractive."

"Good to know." Chloe retorted, casually flexing her knuckles while retaining a grip on the wheel. Victoria shuddered, most of her hoping that she hadn't just given Chloe an idea.

"Victoria was the one who triggered the fire alarm." Max explained, appearing to be acting as a mediator. "It was a really old model switch with a sheet of non-safety glass protecting it. The hammer was missing, so Tori punched through it with her fist."

Chloe raised an eyebrow at Max's answer. Victoria was actually feeling quite smug at that moment. She ignored a cautioned whisper from the back of her head.

"Wow 'Tori', that's actually surprisingly badass."

Being told you were 'badass' by the local incarnation of the word did wonders for the ego. But the voice in the back of Victoria's head was screaming out in warning, as if something akin to a virus were somehow spreading right in front of her but she hadn't consciously realised it.

"So 'Tori', are you feeling any better?"

So nice of them to be worried about her. Though there did seem to be a common thread in how she was being addressed, that made her feel not entirely dissimilar to two pieces of verging-on-critical-mass uranium that were being banged together.

"Because if you aren't, we might have to invest in the optional 'Tori's' craniectomy playset and hospital gown fashion accessory."

"Oh fuck the lot of you."

"Don't be like that Victoria. I'd totally buy a doll based on you. Especially if it was a 'talkie' one that told everyone to fuck themselves in your honey-venom voice."

Victoria disgusted herself by squirming slightly. Max liked her voice. Wait, why did she care about that?

"I'd also buy one, if I was in a position of fiscal stability. I'd certainly take one home and treasure it as my own if I saw it fall off the back of a truck; I'd yank it's chain every night so it could remind me what I should do to my selfie. Come on, say the line for me Vicky!"

They were mocking her. At the same time they both seemed almost desperate to hear her say the line. Victoria relented. After all, she didn't want to let down such adoring fans. And she was technically insulting them.

"…Go fuck your selfie."

Max actually applauded. Chloe wanted to join her but restricted herself to a healthy grin; she was apparently too safe a driver to take her hands off the wheel. Then suddenly, the smile on Chloe's face turned into a cringe, as her phone reported receipt of a single text message.

"Max check who that is." Chloe asked, passing Max her phone. Victoria peered over a shoulder, more bored and nosy than actually interested.

Step_Dork: Chloe, I've got two students down in the Blackwell Parking Lot, one of them knocked out with his head smashed through a teacher's car window, and reports of a "really crappy pickup" fleeing the scene. That sound like anyone we know?

"Wowser, you have a stepdad, and he's one of the Blackwell security guards?"

"It's worse than that, Max. He's THE Blackwell security guard. David Madsen. Fuck sticks, what do we say. He'll want to know why I was there in the first place."

It was now Victoria's turn to crack her knuckles (at least the ones on her one unbandaged hand). To her the answer was obvious. But of course, to Victoria duplicitousness was second nature.

"Tell him you were hoping to reunite with your long estranged friend Max, when you saw Nathan show up in a crazed state and attack everyone. It's all true, so if he bothers to check up a little, it'll likely check out. And if he chooses to think it's the entire answer then that's his problem."

"Yeah do that!" Chloe added. "And Max, try to at least make it sound like me."

Max did her best. The sight of Victoria nearly falling out of her chair, even though seat belted into it, made Chloe insist on reading the message at the next red light, before allowing it to be sent.

Chloe: yo step dawg, i was down to meet my swag-muffin OG playa max. was chilling in the lot when some jive-turkey came in and hella fucking stepped to everyone. shit would have got real if I hadn't been there to fucking thrash. no choice but to hella 86 the fuck. hella. :)

She was glad she did. Chloe was shocked and ashamed. She acted decisively, deleted the emoji, appended an extra two hellas to the end and hit send. Victoria's jaw hung open in disbelief.

"He'll just assume I'm mocking him." Chloe clarified.


As the pickup truck arrived in the town centre, Max reflected that she was sandwiched between extremes. To her right, rose scent permeated the air, worn by the prim and always immaculately presented Victoria Chase; on her left, she inhaled the deeper, more earthly tones of Chloe Price: tattooed rebellious punk, serial defenstratrix of the (more) guilty, and oldest friend. Her limited knowledge of science had taught her opposites attract, it had also taught her that they tended to try and annihilate each other if they got too close. And therein laid the problem: she'd been acting as a buffer and moderator between them the whole trip. Though maybe not an entirely unbiased one, Chloe was her oldest friend and Victoria's frustrated reactions to being put in her place were really kind of adorable. Still, she'd prevented either side from completely savaging the other. On the other hand, the banter had continued all the way from school to the town centre. While cute at first, she was kind of tired of being stuck in no man's land facing Chloe and Victoria's respective artillery bombardments.

"This truck is horrid. The next time we have to plan an escape, Max, we'll take my Mercedes."

"Victoria, you're welcome to get out any time and practice your runway walk home."

Victoria pretended not to hear that. She'd worked out Chloe was sufficiently safety obsessed while driving that she was loath to take her hands from the wheel. Without the occasional worry of physical sanction from the punk, she'd become slightly emboldened.

"I really have to wonder whose vehicle is worse. Yours or that filthy boy Warren's."

Chloe felt that unfair. Her truck clearly still had all its windows!

"Well, I think we know whose car would win in a fight." Chloe declared. She was satisfied her truck at least had a certain physical dominance over Warren's blue 1978 Grandma-surplus hatchback.

"If this vehicle crashed into his, the only winners would be the manufacturers of tetanus booster shots." Victoria sniped back.

Ok that was it. Max came to a decision. She'd been tossing up whether to let them in on her communication with her future self. Now she had decided. Partially because she wanted their future input on how to handle information they might get from the stolen sim card, and partially just to quieten them down.

"Look, I've got something I need to tell both of you, and I'm not sure you'll believe me."

"Max, we've seen your superpowers and travelled back in time with you. I'd put money on us finding anything else you have to tell us completely believable."

"So would I. And thanks to Nathan, I actually have some!" Chloe patted her pocket, apparently now proud she'd mugged Blackwell's richest student. Then again, he'd tried to kill both her and Victoria, so she was probably bragging to a fairly safe audience.

Max took a breath.

"I'm being possessed by my future self each time I take a selfie, during which I suffer amnesia. Said future self writes letters and notes to me, advising of future events, ruthlessly manipulating things for god knows what end game, and triggering countless butterfly effects."

Chloe and Victoria looked at each other, then silently each handed Max twenty dollars. Apparently they were capable of agreeing on some things after all.

"It's true! I've got part of a note in my bag."

"Max if your future self is possessing you, then she'll have exactly the same handwriting as you. Showing us the note won't really prove that much."

"Just read it."

There is one more matter. We'll need to buy a cheap cell phone before the end of today. We should have enough in your bank from that birthday money your parents sent. Somewhere lying at the bottom of our bag, is a sim card. After installing the card in your new phone, you'll find contacts labelled 'one' through 'eight' stored on the card. Text 'three' through 'seven' with the following message:

"Plans have been put on hold. Do not attempt further contact directly or by phone until contacted again from this number. Do not visit dark room."

Don't message the others for now. Don't message 'one' under any circumstances! Set the phone to completely silent operation, put the microphone on zero volume and don't answer any incoming call. Seriously, keep it locked and in your bag so you don't butt-dial accidentally. Them catching on to us will have fatal results. And on that note, destroy this letter after reading it.

"Ah. So that's why we're off to the electronics store. What did the rest of the note say?"

"It just uh, said that the guys running this thing were amoral and sociopathic. As the end indicated, I was supposed to destroy all of it straight after reading, but I decided to keep the message instructions so I could follow them exactly. Oh, and I should try to be friends with Victoria. It definitely said that too."

It also admitted to arranging a improbable accident that nearly killed Victoria, just to ensure her long-term friendship with Max. But she could hardly tell them that.

"Just Victoria?"

Chloe looked like someone had run over her pet cat. To be fair to her someone actually had, but that was a long time ago.

"I don't need to try, to be friends with you Chloe."

Chloe lit up like a Christmas tree, though now Victoria looked a little putout. Wowser, what did she have to do to satisfy them both, declare them both her love slaves?

"And this sim card is in your bag now?" Victoria asked doubtfully.

Max nodded, and quickly rummaged around for it. Unfortunately it was at the very bottom, so she had to completely empty her bag first. Victoria's lap quickly became a dumping ground as the content of Max's camera bag was systematically emptied into it from top to bottom. First the Polaroid camera itself, always at the top in case needed. Then came her pencil case and exercise books for class and journal. There was her hoodie and a few extra cases of film and… there it is, bottom left corner. Future Max had been nice enough to stick it in the plastic bag Max had kept her lunch in, to keep it clean and make it easier to locate. She turned to triumphantly display the sim card to Victoria, only to find the Blackwell Queen looking aghast at the scarlet-soaked item of clothing in her lap. Oh right, that hoodie.

"Max. Is… is this blood?"

Chloe slowed the vehicle as her interest piqued, unwilling to take her eyes off the road if she was proceeding at speed. Only after the speedometer dropped to 15 miles an hour, did she risk turning to glance at the item of clothing. For someone with such an out of control reputation, Chloe seemed a remarkably cautious driver. Of course, Max knew the reason for that; William Price's death in a car accident. Cautious, but completely uncourteous to those following her. Horns sounded from the trailing vehicles in response to her sudden slowdown. A glance in the rear-view mirror as she exited a bend revealed a quartet of impatient motorists: The red sedan, blue hatchback, red hatchback, red station wagon. What is it with people wanting red cars? She casually wound down her window, flipped them off, and gave them no more of her time.

"Kate suggested it was wet paint?" Max finally answered lamely. Victoria was half incredulous, half in shock.

"Paint doesn't smell like this. What the hell did you do?"

Victoria was really out of sorts. Max's psychotic look from back in Jefferson's class came flooding back into her mind, and now it had a context. The person she was sitting next to, all five foot five of her, had viciously assaulted someone. She'd taken what she needed from their immobilised and probably dying body, and then nonchalantly wiped any trace of her actions, sans the blood on her jersey, from existence. That differed from Chloe, who might severely beat or even shoot someone as a matter of self defence, but didn't care to instigate, and couldn't hide what she'd done. Beneath that shy hipster front Max put on was something powerful and dangerous. But also something that had saved her life at least twice, and insisted on trying to save Chloe's before she'd even known it was her old friend. That had to suggest her motives were noble didn't it? Victoria felt conflicted and panicked, and it really annoyed her that Chloe only seemed to have a casual interest in this. Victoria felt she was the only one who understood what Max could potentially get away with, what she might already be doing.

A slight tremor ran through Victoria's hands as her reservoir of fear neared overflow. Max raised her own hands in a calming motion; at that moment she wanted nothing more than to reassure her terrified rival and new friend. This proved singularly unproductive: Victoria's eyes bulged as Max's arms extended, mistaking the calming motion for an attempt to rewind time.

"Don't you dare!"

Chloe decided she'd better pull the car to the side of the road. Something strange was going on, and she needed to be a part of it. The four cars behind them gratefully took advantage and passed.

"Tori, what the fuck is this about?"

"Max's shirt is soaked completely in someone's blood."

"No. 'This don't you dare' crap. That part actually sounded important."

Right. Of course Chloe Price wouldn't think a bloody shirt was the important part. Chloe Price probably dealt with blood-soaked shirts every time she did her laundry.

"Any time Max brings up her right hand, I worry about her using time powers to erase my memory or something. Maybe something worse, cover up something horrible she's done so she can do it over and over with no one the wiser. Honestly, I don't think you fully understand what she's capable of now. She could stab someone – like she's already done, then soak up most of their blood onto something in her possession, and walk off. After rewinding time, everyone would see her victim suddenly collapse, somehow exsanguinated without a scratch on her body. "

Chloe looked down on Max with a rather perverse sense of pride. Nice work, you've legitimately terrified the school's queen bitch without even trying. Though, truth be told, she was also hella worried about the bloody clothes and the idea of Max stabbing people herself. She just couldn't show it in front of the 'casual crew'. The first mate and captain never argued in front of the crew. They always had each other's backs. She'd get an explanation out of Max later, after things had calmed down. Max noticed Chloe's gaze and smiled apologetically back. They always had a way of knowing what the other was thinking. Chloe returned her attention to Victoria. She couldn't stand to see a girl locked in actual terror, even one some might say was deserving of it. She'd have to do something to reassure her. Of course, one solution immediately sprung to Chloe's mind, and it involved temporarily rendering Max's right hand unusable. God, she was sorry for what she was about to put Max through.

Committing to her plan, the trim, blue haired Amazon leaned over Max until her head was inches from Victoria's. She placed her hand in intimate contact with Victoria's thigh, gently grazing the underside of the Blackwell Queen's stockings with her fingertips. The leer she gave made Victoria shudder. In Victoria's mind the dangers posed by Max and Chloe were almost opposites: the scalpel and the sledge hammer. Victoria imagined Max might manipulate a scenario, trick people or otherwise set off a series of events to get what she wanted, at the worst use it to get into position to launch a surprise attack and then get rid of the evidence, like what probably happened back in Jefferson's class. Chloe could just march in, wreck most people stupid enough to get in her way, and take what she wanted. And right now, based on her hand location, she seemed to want access to Victoria's rear end. Victoria's mind raced. She imagined countless lurid scenarios where this monster with the face of a goddess overpowered her, and gingerly gnawed her lip in nervous contemplation of what would come after. What utter debasement she might be forced to endure and even learn to enjoy as her mind broke under the relentless assault of-

"Excuse me a minute Tori, but this is for your own piece of mind."

And with that, Chloe casually lifted one side of Victoria by the thigh, placed Max's right hand beneath her nether cheek, then gently lowered Victoria back on top of Max's hand.

"She can't raise her hand if you're sitting on it."

Chloe tried to gauge Victoria and Max's reactions to her ingenious piece of lateral thinking. On Victoria's part, there was mostly stunned disbelief, a little outright scandalisation, and a hint of disappointment. Disappointment? What the hell was she hoping might happen? Max just blushed slightly, she clearly found the situation a little awkward. She almost felt Chloe might be living vicariously through her.

"Chloe can't she just hold my hand, or something?"

"Not while she's holding all the stuff from your bag Max. You can't safely hold that many things with one hand, and we can't risk someone damaging your camera, can we?"

Well there was a certain tenuous logic to that. And to Victoria's surprise, she did breathe easier with a constant reminder as to Max's hand location. At least until she realised that possibly the most powerful thing on the planet was, essentially, copping a feel of her fundament. That had her feeling breathless for slightly different reasons, and on seeing that Chloe was suddenly struck with a deeply philosophical question.

"Victoria, do you think there are many parallel universes out there running simultaneously with our own, where different past choices or random effects have led to a different present."

Victoria found it a little difficult to philosophise about the universe with so much of its power resting beneath her, but she didn't have that 3.9 (hopefully soon to be 4.0) GPA for nothing. In fact she was actually rather glad of the distraction from the all powerful fawn hoof in her hind quarters.

"I choose not to believe that. It would mean you might as well be as self centred as possible and maximise your own happiness with no regard to anyone else, knowing that in some other concurrent universe, there's a nice guy version of yourself doing the opposite. After all, when summed across all universes, your actions would have no bearing on anything. There'd always be a universe dealing with the consequences of you being happily selfish, and another with you being miserable and selfless, and the only choice you'd have (assuming you had any at all) was whether you wanted to be the happy one."

Chloe appreciated the well thought out answer, but really just wanted to know if there was a universe where either Max's powers were in her left hand or the US had the driver's seats on the right. It seemed that Max had only been half right, thinking that at that moment Chloe was living vicariously through her. Fundamental issues aside, Chloe and Max both found it a bit of a worry that Victoria considered herself to be unselfish. They dreaded to think what a completely selfish Victoria might act like, given the behaviour of the allegedly selfless model. In any case, with Victoria sedated by jab to the rear, Max continued her story.

"I told you my future self's been taking over my body. Shortly after she did for the first time, I had Kate point out that my arm was completely covered in something blood-like. It probably happened at the same time that sim card got into-"

"So you think it was your future self that murdered someone-"

"That's nowhere near enough blood to guarantee the person was killed."

Victoria found the casual confidence with which Chloe said that was more than slightly unnerving. She got the impression that, not only did Chloe Price deal with blood soaked clothes on a daily basis, she also knew exactly how much blood loss was necessary to prove dangerous. That was, of course, Chloe's intention. Treat the situation with a little casual contempt, and maybe Victoria would lay off her first mate. And of course Chloe knew how much blood could be safely removed from the body – she'd donated blood a few times, and the amount that had soaked Max's shirt barely looked more than the amount taken during a donation.

"Did a potentially fatal injury to someone," Victoria corrected, "then used their incapacity to rob them and erased the entire event from time?"

"Yes."

Damn. That was some admission.

"Oh, so we don't need to worry about you going crazy, just your future self who occasionally possesses your body. That makes me feel so much better."

"I'm not sure my future self is that crazy. Just strongly driven."

Victoria audibly huffed.

"So there's something that would drive you to go around stabbing people? That's really reassuring!"

"Actually there's at least two things off the top of my head. If I knew, really knew someone was going to hurt Chloe, or maybe even you Victoria. I mean I'd like to say that I'm not sure what I'd be capable of then, but I think we've been shown-"

Chloe took full advantage of having pulled over the car, immediately hugging Max. Victoria found herself in another one of her Max induced states. Stupid heroic Max, call her out on a possible murder and she's all 'for you it would be justified homicide'. Victoria's mind seemed intent on curating the stuttering mess of Max's actual dialogue into something rather suave. No doubt her eventual recollection would have Max give them both roses, and introduce herself as 'Caulfield, Max Caulfield'.

"So how does the whole 'steal the sim card' work, if you reverse time after taking it?" Chloe asked. She hadn't seen as much of Max's powers as Victoria, so was still a little confused as to the specifics of what they allowed.

"Items already in my possession stay in my possession, So rewinding after mugging someone lets me keep anything I've taken from them.

Chloe's mind quickly began examining the logical extension to how Max stole the sim card without leaving evidence, and its capacity for possible monetary gain. She couldn't help it, she owed money to a dangerous person. It must have shown on Chloe's face, because Max immediately pre-empted her.

"No, we're not holding up a bank, then using my powers to eliminate the consequences."

"Ok, you can't have used your powers because Victoria's sitting on your hand, but how else could you know-"

"The true power of best friendship: I know how dumb you can sometimes be."

Victoria had also been thinking about the sim card theft, though her thoughts were the same that had occurred to Max earlier.

"Max, if you took the card from someone in that class, then that class contains one of these psychos."

Always one to court controversy, whether intentionally or unintentionally, Chloe immediately chimed in with what she considered to be obvious.

"Well it's going to be the class's teacher, right? The slick photo guy-"

"Mr Jefferson?"

"I mean it's hardly going to be students running a conspiracy. They'd have to replace them each time they graduate, and some teens can be a little emotionally unstable." Chloe seemed to see no irony in her pointing that out. "Way more likely to be an adult."

Needless to say, both Max and Victoria experienced a certain degree of shock at that. It was a difficult feeling, being told your hero and role model was probably a criminal. For some reason Max never considered the teacher, instead worrying more about the students. Perhaps because she'd suffered a degree of harassment and bullying from students in the past, while her teachers (and Mr Jefferson in particular),always tried to encourage her. Victoria, of course, wanted to outright reject anything that besmirched her beloved 'Mark', having practically built him up as a cornerstone of her world. Of course today Max had shown up with a metaphoric bulldozer, sat Victoria on her lap in the driver's seat, and dauntlessly ploughed through a fair portion of her world (and her understanding of reality), and that made her a little more amiable to the suggestion. She still vehemently opposed the idea, just at a Canadian hockey fan level of aggression rather than a North Korean 'dear leader' devotee level of aggression. Which, admittedly, wasn't much of a de-escalation.

"Perhaps we'll find out soon." Victoria noted caustically, trying to remain completely confident it wasn't Mark Jefferson, in the face of an entirely reasonable argument that it was fairly likely to be. "There may be messages on that phone's number, waiting to be received. They might tip the identity of the sim owner or the contacts."

Shortly thereafter, Chloe found a disabled bay in the town's shopping centre to illegally park in. Max set off to buy a phone leaving Victoria and Chloe alone together, and Victoria's left buttock feeling surprisingly lonely.


Victoria and Chloe sat in the truck's cabin in silence. Both of them seemed to realise this was a rather volatile situation. Without Max there to act as a moderating force, who knew what could happen? Both made eye contact once, but quickly looked away. Victoria downward, and Chloe out the window. They had the same thing on their minds. Something they'd been desperately wanting to share with someone, anyone, since being pulled into the whole time business. And they were probably the only two people in the world who they could share it with, who'd understand. Mercifully, Chloe eventually just came out and said what she'd been thinking.

"So, have you done it with her too?"

Chloe's voice conveyed a certain nervous excitement. Victoria's eyebrows arched and her face became incandescent pink.

"I meant being taken back in time with her, dude."

"Oh." Victoria seemed rather grateful for the clarification. "Yes, twice."

"It was such an incredible experience, wasn't it? Gently linking hands and literally having yourself pulled into another world. Her world. Watching as she literally wipes your problems from existence. Then gently guides you back to reality."

Victoria was dumbfounded. She hardly expected such a flowery and romanticised description from Chloe Price of all people. It also seemed to be the polar opposite of her own experience in shared time travel with Max. Chloe quickly picked up on Victoria's scepticism.

"What was it like for you then?"

Victoria tried her best to explain what she'd experienced. Recalling the rather extreme nature, and background behind both of her rewinds took its toll though, and she ended up a little less articulate than her usual eloquent self.

"It was fast, and rough."

Chloe nodded enthusiastically. Hoping for something slightly less concise, she urged Victoria to continue.

"We literally had to cling together, and I felt completely out of control; it was like a rollercoaster and I was completely at the mercy of her power. At the end it was clumsy, and more than slightly awkward; we actually bumped our heads when we fell on top of each other. She was gagging me the first time-"

"Victoria, are you sure we're talking about the same thing?"

Chloe immediately regretted interrupting. It seemed she'd cut her off just as she got to some rather intriguing details. But what she was described seemed so removed from her own trip back through time.

"Well if your experience actually did go how you describe it, I can't help but feel slightly jealous." Victoria noted.

"For some reason I seem to feel the same way."

A second moment of silence pervaded the truck.

"Now, what were you saying about Max gagging you?"


"Alright, here it is."

Max jumped back in the car while proudly displaying a rather cheap looking phone. As she clambered into the vehicle, and over Victoria to reach the truck's middle seat, she became aware that a strange mood seemed to pervade the vehicle. Both Victoria and Chloe were slightly flustered, and wouldn't explain why. Whatever. They had more important things to attend to. Max quickly installed the stolen sim into her new 'burner' phone, and powered it up.

Ten unread messages.

One missed call from contact "Three".

Damn. Ten unread messages in the space between the card's theft and now? Whoever this psycho was, they must have contacts that were almost as annoying as Warren. Max brought up the new messages. As the note had suggested, each contact was referred to by a single digit number rather than a name.

Five: Got the supplies you wanted. In storage for now, need to transport to dark room ASAP.

Two: I left a little surprise for your not so little problem , just as one requested. I can't guarantee it'll do the job though. If you and one want your problems solved reliably, you really need more hands-on solutions.

Three: RESPOND DAMNIT. YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE IN CHARGE WHILE ONES AWAY. SECURITYS AFTER ME

Seven: Three's gone off the handle, is blowing up my inbox. Someone needs to help him, get him under control.

Three: FUCKING ANSWER.

Five: Saw three walking around campus, looked even more messed up than usual. Do we need to do something?

Two: I've been bombarded by messages from your obnoxious Scooby gang, all begging for help. Kindly remind them I don't answer to them, and only temporarily to you. Now, shall I find out who these witnesses are, and give them the same treatment I gave our last problem?

Two: And try to rein in that entitled fool or his old man won't be happy.

Three: FUCK YOU ALL THEN. ILL TAKE CARE OF THOSE FEMINAZI CUNTS MYSELF.

Seven: Three's threatening to attack some girl. Don't know who, thinks they're a radical feminist lesbian or something. You don't think he's going after the school librarian?

"'Feminazi…?' That sounds an awful lot like someone-"

"Yes, Max." Victoria sighed. "It's probably Nathan. So this is what you meant when you asked if he was part of something bigger?"

Max nodded.

"Does this mean Nathan's whole family's involved? You said that in Arcadia Bay, no one was bigger than the Prescotts, Tori."

"It's quite possible Max. Some of the other texts seem to mention his 'old man', Sean Prescott."

But the three of them really weren't immediately interested in Nathan's messages. He'd have been grabbed by security and sent to the police station by now, or maybe the nearest hospital? Chloe had really let him have it. Either way he wasn't much of a threat. Instead, contact 'two' seemed a far more immediate concern.

"The witnesses this 'two' guy is talking about. They're- they're us aren't they."

Max and Victoria both felt their faces pale, as the blood drained from them. Chloe wasn't quite so badly affected. She already had at least one person threatening to come after her, so this was almost more of the same.

"There's a hit man thinking of coming after us?" Victoria moaned. "Their texting does seem a bit top-drawer, but still, an actual hit man coming after us?"

"Wowser."

"It doesn't sound like 'two' actually knows who we are though. If we take their words literally, they're still trying to find that out. And this 'seven' asshole thinks Max is the fucking librarian." Chloe noted, managing to maintain a modicum of calm, a calm that was tested when Victoria fatalistically identified the real problem.

"It's only a matter of time. They'll send some lawyer to talk to Nathan at the station, if they haven't already. He'll give them all the information."

"Do we message 'two' then?" Chloe asked, determined to find a thread of hope. She'd just gotten Max back in her life after so long. She wasn't about to let some asshole inflict tragedy on them straight after that had happened. "Seems he wants our man's input before he comes looking for us."

"I really don't see anything else we could do to stop him." Victoria agreed

"But the future note said not to message anyone else for now." Max couldn't believe her future self, probably privy to the consequences of any actions on their part, wouldn't have given them a specific instruction to message 'Two' if doing so was in their best interest, as they had done for three through seven. Damn, it was frustrating that 'Future Max' had decided to drip feed them information, instead of sharing the entire future with them.

"Guys, we should check the voice mail on the missed call before we decide anything."

Max called up the message library. A sweet female voice of badly pasted together words informed them that a single missed call had resulted in a message being left by contact three.

"Why don't you answer! I need help, I've fucked up. There are pictures of me holding a gun, and witnesses. Then there's this mousy little feminazi dyke. Hair even look a little like a Kraut helmet. She's indoctrinated my only friend to testify against me. What am I going to do? What the fuck am I going to do!?"

The shrill panicking voice was most definitely Nathan's. Chloe decided she'd been wrong. There was one person she wouldn't mind being left in a state of abject terror after all.

"So students are involved in Max's conspiracy. Then the bad guy Max took the phone from might be anyone in photography class, after all." Victoria immediately declared, desperate to exonerate her hero.

"The one Max stole the sim card off does seem to be calling a lot of the shots , lady V. My money's still on an adult. His kid's club are probably there to act as drug mules or something."

"We don't know what the hell the conspiracy is about. Until then, speculating why high school seniors might be involved is pointless."

"OK, let's at least send the message we were told to."

Zero: Plans have been put on hold. Do not attempt further contact directly or by phone until contacted again from this number. Do not visit dark room.

With a sense of trepidation, Max sent the fraudulent message.

"So, do we send that other message to 'two'. Try to get him not to come after us?"

Max thought. It seemed obvious at first glance – telling this idiot not to come after them would make them all a lot safer. But on further evaluation, she could see how doing so might go very wrong. She imagined 'two ' immediately demanding a verbal, or worse, a video conversation to discuss the matter more thoroughly. If they refused, the bastards would probably immediately assume the phone had been stolen. If they agreed, they'd be made instantly.

"Let's hold off on that for now. The future note did say not to send any messages to him for the moment."

"Alright, enough cloak and dagger, time to get moving. Next stop, Castle Price."

As Chloe keyed the ignition, she watched with interest as Victoria, seemingly acting on autopilot, began to gently take Max's hand and place it on her seat.

"Five more minutes Max. Just think of England."

Max quickly worked out what Victoria was talking about – she intended to keep Max's hand under control for the full twenty one minutes they had established Max could rewind for. That would stop her from erasing their conversation about Max's future self from existence, and ensure her and Chloe remembered all the details, the admission that her future self was a touch 'driven'. Max decided not to remind Victoria she could have rewound as soon as she'd gotten out of the car to get her phone. The illusion of control would keep her calm. Still, she couldn't help but feel the way Victoria was about to restrain her hand was gratuitous and no longer necessary. They'd long since put everything back in Max's bag, so Victoria could easily spare a hand to restrain Max's. There was no need for another area of her anatomy to be involved.

Victoria realised this moments later, and quickly pretended that simply holding her hand was always her intention. Though to be honest, holding hands seemed to fluster Victoria almost as much as the defacto butt grab she'd received earlier. It seemed she wasn't used to anything that could be construed as a public display of affection, on any level. From holding her hand, to holding her anywhere else. Chloe turned away grinning in amusement and began to drive.

After about a minute on the road, both Chloe and Victoria noticed Max glancing in the passenger Mirror, looking rather concerned. Well, deciding not to try and persuade the hit man was a big call, and it would be completely understandable if she was having second thoughts about it. They both prepared themselves to offer her further council, but the question asked wasn't quite what they'd expected.

"My hair doesn't really look like a Nazi helmet, does it?"


The Price household sat silhouetted against the low afternoon sun as Chloe's truck pulled into the driveway. Max smiled as she noted how little it had changed: only two things were different from how she remembered it five years ago. The addition of an American flag flying on a diagonal poll from the front (evidently someone living there was staunchly patriotic), and a three-quarter finished coat of blue paint on the front of the house (evidently someone living there was a little lazy). Victoria was more judgemental, sarcastically referring to it as "delightfully rustic and humble" in honeyed tones of superior arrogance. Then again, Victoria said almost everything in a honeyed tone of superior arrogance. It was one of the things you either loved or hated about her. Often both.

As they entered the ground floor hallway, Chloe had an urge to bring out her phone and review that picture she'd taken with Juliet. She was no expert, but felt it really was quite good. The actual artistic merit, not just the fact that she'd reduced Juliet to a near-whimpering mess within ten seconds. Chloe had found herself a little jealous on the last leg of their car trip: Max and Victoria had started talking about the more technical aspects of photography like a couple of geeks, and Chloe had practically nothing to contribute. She was sort of hoping the photo would shift some attention back her way, maybe Max could give her a professional critique, or perhaps even ask her to explain how she'd made Juliet adopt the face in the photo! There was only one way to find out.

Chloe rammed the phone into Max's hands as they reached the foot of the stairs. Max glanced down at the phone's screen, and a second later her jaw close to unhinged.

"I need your honest opinion on this."

Max's honest first opinion was dumbstruck silence. Her second honest opinion was that a deep void of emptiness had opened inside her, and was threatening to swallow her whole. Her third was to note that, as Victoria had gone to pains to point out, she could actually make Juliet dead any time she wanted, and no one would ever be able to prove who was responsible. She sighed. So this was how Chloe got those lipstick smears. Max knew she had to have gotten up to something a little bit amorous, but to be directly confronted by a photo rather graphically detailing the act? That was something she just wasn't ready for.

Max glared again at the image. Juliet was tall, curvaceous and confident. Everything that Max wasn't. Why the hell was Chloe even showing this to her? She sighed, an answer already in mind: because her best friend had taken what was by most reasonable considerations a very good shot, and really wanted to share it with her professional artist friend and get her considered opinion on it. It's just it was a very good shot of Chloe and someone else in a moment of intimacy. Wowser, this was going to be painful.

"It's… it's really good, artistically wise."

Brilliant start.

"I like how you used your tattoo sleeve to frame the bottom corner."

Ok good, discuss the part that's least painful to look at. Now be brave and say something about their, uh, 'interaction'.

"The fact that most of you is hidden, both outright or by shadow play focuses attention on the… other participant and makes you look almost predatory; this is reinforced by how the… the neck of the other participant is thrown back and exposed."

Max could barely stand to keep looking at the bloody thing. She was proud her eyes hadn't gotten watery. Still, Chloe wouldn't be expecting much more. Perhaps if she just try to end with something positive, maybe a commentary on how it's empowering and progressive.

" The gasp of…" She found herself having to pause to relieve a choking sensation from her throat "…gasp of pleasure on the other participant's… Juliet's… face effectively sells a sense of consent and pleasure in spite of the predatory framing, which is a welcome addition."

Max didn't even look at the photo when she said that last part. She was just pleased she hadn't started crying. She looked away from a beaming Chloe, who was acting just like she used to when she came home with A+ written all over her assignments. Max knew Chloe would read her silly emotional state almost instantly if she got a good look at her face, and didn't want to ruin what seemed to be a rare moment of happiness for her with petty jealousy. It was at that moment Max caught sight of Victoria. The Blackwell Queen had lagged behind them a few paces, as her interest had been drawn by one of the Price family photos hanging on the wall. Max's photo critique seemed to have drawn her attention though, Victoria was always happy to stamp her own opinion on anything photography related. She glanced at Max, and for a second seemed to register her emotional distress, before turning back to the price photo like nothing had happened.

"Is this what Joyce Price from the two whales diner used to look like?" Victoria inquired. The photo in question showed a much younger Joyce and William Price together.

Max nodded in the affirmative, still bravely fighting back tears.

"She has an uncanny resemblance to Juliet Watson."

Now that Victoria had mentioned it, there did seem to be a certain distinct… similarity. Chloe suddenly froze when she heard that. Her face turned pale and for a moment she was convinced her stomach was about to retch its content back up. Max looked on, conflicted: while loathed to see Chloe in any state of discomfort, some small part of her couldn't help but think Chloe deserved this for her distinct lack of tact. Of course Victoria had a somewhat different reaction. She was immediately drawn in like a hyena to carrion. Victoria's eyes latched onto the image displayed on the phone's screen and she displayed a sadistic smirk.

"Oh, so you set a tongue record with someone who looks just like your Mom."

While Chloe debated whether an immediate application of mouthwash would make her feel better, Victoria quickly took possession of the phone from Max and turned her full attention toward it. It felt good to pay 'The Price' back a little for the crap she'd been given in the car. And more than that, Victoria felt strangely pleased that Chloe had been punished for upsetting Max. She couldn't understand why she felt like that though. It definitely wasn't like she'd brought up the Juliet-Joyce resemblance in response to seeing Max's sadness, or anything.

In spite of the success of her pseudo-incest observation, Victoria couldn't help but also offer her own 'proper' critique of the photo. Max had already given a proper opinion on it, so of course the class's best student had to do so too. She chewed over the image and quickly found herself chewing her small lower lip. It was a rather good image, both artistically and otherwise, but Max had already said as much. That meant she had to offer a slightly contrary opinion on principle.

"I can't help but feel a little disappointed." Victoria began. Max shot her an 'are you cereal' glance. Max felt it was a great shot, it was just that, for her, it was also an utterly heartbreaking one.

"Your face deserves far better than to be consigned to the background, especially when it's done so in favour of someone as plain as Juliet. Next time take your rightful place in the forefront and find someone more worthy of sharing the frame with. Aside from that, Max's commentary adequately covered the relevant technical accomplishments. It's a good photo."

If Chloe wasn't mistaken, she'd just been given a personal compliment, wrapped in a mixed critique, piggy-backing on a putdown aimed at her collaborator, and prefaced by an insult. It was difficult to know what to think, but from Victoria, it probably counted as a thumbs up.

"One day you'll have to tell me how many shots you took randomly to get this one good one."

And she also somehow knew that they'd done the photography equivalent of Shakespeare via monkeys on typewriters. How the fuck did she know that? Still, taking a lot of photos was a valid photographic technique wasn't it? 'Photographers' always seemed to take a bunch of shots without even really looking through the viewfinder in the movies, didn't they? Like that Alyssa Milano one, 'Embrace of the Vampire'. And she'd shown her artistic chops by selecting the best photo out of the fuckton they'd taken.

Damn it, Chloe, why do you suddenly care about photography? Before she decided 'fuck school', Chloe had been a science nerd, not an art nerd. So why care? Because Max cared about photography, and Victoria was grabbing all her attention. Damn, it was frustrating not being as dumb as you acted. It meant you actually knew the answers to the stupid questions you kept asking yourself. Chloe decided she needed to just kick back and unwind. Use the last of her weed to purge the alleged similarity between Juliet and her Mom from her mind. She bounded up the stairs, two at a time, leaving Max and Victoria in her wake and struggling to catch up.


Max stepped into Chloe's room for the first time in five years, and it was like she'd been transported to another world. The sheer energy of the room: the graffiti, the warm sunlight filtering through a desecrated US flag hung in front of a window, the mix-CD of indie music Chloe had just started (loudly) playing, the fact that there were posters everywhere displaying what Max was sure were proud, confident, empowered women celebrating their bodies and femininity, and more than anything, that Chloe was in it. To Max, it was like that moment Dorothy stepped through her door into OZ and everything turned to technicolour. Though at the same time, it felt like she'd come home.

"It's… it's like having stepped over the rainbow." Max whispered to Victoria.

Victoria nodded in agreement.

"There's more gay concentrated in this one room than in the combined payroll of every home depot on the planet. I'm almost worried that my cardigan will spontaneously burst into flannel."

That really wasn't what Max had meant, and Max didn't much appreciate Victoria's crude stereotyping either.

"People's clothing doesn't just become flannel, Tori." Max noted acidicly. "The only way you could think that is if you were always wearing flannel, and just didn't notice."

Well, this was turning into a real afterschool special.

Victoria rolled her eyes. "As if anyone could go around without noticing they took fashion tips from Richard Karn, Max."

Chloe jumped on her bed and laid back, not bothering to take her boots off first. Victoria sneered at the uncouth display, and decided that she'd never let Chloe display such slovenliness when she was in Victoria's room. At least Max knew better than to do that. She was nice and domesticated and well groomed and why was she even thinking about bringing Chloe and Max back to her room? Chloe withdrew a joint she'd hidden in her pillowcase, and proceeded to light up. A few puffs later, she caught Victoria watching intently.

"Don't judge me Tori, I've had a hella tough day with nearly being killed, finding out a hit man is considering targeting us, and having locked lips with someone who apparently looks just like my mom used to, and I just need-"

"I was wondering if I could bum a drag? That sounds a lot like my day. Except for kissing your mother's lookalike, of course."

Chloe silently shuffled over to the centre of the bed, then patted the spot next to her. Victoria cautiously sat on the edge, removing her boots. Nice to see she took the 'be the change you wish to see' quote she displayed outside her dorm room seriously. Chloe exhaled a cloud of smoke into the air before passing the joint to Victoria. Victoria took it in hand and inhaled gently. Everything about her had to be refined and elegant, even her illicit drug use.

"Maximus, you want some?"

"Only some of the bedspace," Max answered, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed to Victoria. There really weren't that many other comfortable places in Chloe's room to rest. "Hanging around you two has been enough of a trip today."

Before lying down, Max elected not to follow Victoria's prim and proper example and remove her converse sneakers. Chloe was clearly a 'good bad' influence on her.

"I'd never turn down a lady wanting to get in bed with me."

Max gently elbowed Chloe in the ribs.

"Dork."

The three of them lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Fortunately Chloe had written graffiti all over it, and the walls, so they actually had things to look at. Still, 'hole to another universe' and 'just gotta let go' weren't the most riveting of prose. Max wondered if the joint Chloe and Victoria were periodically passing to one another let them find some hidden meaning behind it all. With boredom setting in, Max must have been feeling a tad masochistic and destructive. Probably some lingering effect of that fucking photo Chloe had shown her. She asked something certain to solicit divisive opinions.

"Hey, what was Rachel like?"

Victoria and Chloe looked at each other. Max could almost feel lightning crackle between them for an instant. Clearly the correct answer was 'polarising'. Perhaps it was a good thing that they'd started to self-medicate before she'd posed that question. Then a smile took hold of Chloe, as a wave of nostalgia overcame any care on her part about Victoria's alternate opinions.

"Rachel was magnificent, almost perfect really. She was smart, good at pretty much everything she tried. And she had this glorious petite body that was-"

"-a lot like Max's." Victoria noted incisively. Max flinched. She knew this was a risk when she first asked the question. She was going to be compared with Rachel.

"Well yeah, I guess. They probably fit the same clothes. Most of them anyway."

Most of them. Max had heard this all from Stella, along with that creepy rant about Mr Jefferson. She imagined Rachel as a lot like her, just better, prettier where it counted.

" Rachel did kind of have a big ass, so her jeans might be a little loose."

Yep she knew it. Wait. A big ass? Somehow that made Max feel a little better. Or did it? Max had never really figured out what the socially desirable form of that part of the body was. It seemed it was a no-win area of the anatomy.

"She'd be fine," Victoria counselled. "Rachel was always wearing jeans at least one size too tight. It was hilarious watching her try to get into them after PE."

"I appreciated the end result of the effort." Chloe noted.

"And I appreciated the entertainment value of the effort itself." Victoria shot back. "Chloe, I know you have a rose-tinted memory of Rachel, but she really wasn't the perfect little angel everyone thought she was."

"I don't think I ever thought she was an angel – not in that sense anyway. More like your own sexy mini-devil."

"Good, because she often behaved like a Cerberus."

There was a brief pause, and Victoria cradled her head in frustration.

"That's a hell-spawned, multi-faced bitch, in case you didn't know."

"Oh? Like you in other words?"

"Yes. She was like me. Only better at it and more cruel."

A more cruel version of Victoria. Jesus, what did Rachel do, skin living puppies in front of the kids at a preschool?

"Rachel had a way of using people and then discarding them when she was done. I saw her pull it on Nathan. She even tried it out on… some other people I know. She won their trust, and sometimes more, then took things from them. This one girl I knew, she took their money and more under false pretences and didn't look back."

Chloe desperately wanted to counter that, defend her Rachel, but something stopped her. It was probably the realisation that what Victoria had described was rather familiar. If fact, it sounded an awful lot like her and Rachel's plan with Frank. Well, except that Rachel had convinced Chloe to borrow his money instead of doing it herself. An awkward silence ensued, eventually broken by Victoria standing up and walking to Chloe's desk. The golden hour was setting in, and Victoria suddenly felt a desire to stare whimsically at the sun set through the nearby window. She winced as soon as she sat at Chloe's desk. Her chair was awful. Hard and cheap. It had even been more comfortable sitting on Max's hand than this monstrosity.

"You know Chloe, for such a poor person who's attracted to people that look like her mother, has such a rubbish desk chair, and is constantly throwing people through windows in asinine fights, you're actually rather cool."

Chloe actually thought most people found her cool because she threw people though windows.

"My fights are never asinine Tori. Chloe Price fights for justice."

"You managed to fuck up my party in a fairly unjust manner."

"God. I only did that because someone on your VIP guest list tried to spike some girl's drink."
Well, that put Chloe wrecking Victoria's party in a slightly different light. Still, Victoria was sceptical. She needed details to believe.

"Really, which girl?"

"I never got her name."

"Then what did she look like?"

"…I never really looked at her face either."

"So glad you're living up to your graffiti." Victoria noted, while gesturing to a section of the wall where 'Think like a man' had been scrawled.

"It's not really my fault. Look, she had the most incredible legs you've ever seen, in these hella tight cut-off jean shorts! No one could resist."

"Oh. Taylor Christensen then." Max said absentmindedly.

Victoria nodded in sage agreement. Chloe couldn't help but feel slightly aggrieved. Both Max and Victoria had identified the girl in question off little more information than "has great legs", yet apparently she was the perv.

"I've been told that almost every girl in Blackwell's been distracted by those, as well as the boys." Victoria clarified. "The way the lovable slut prances around. It's really no big deal."

For the first time ever, Chloe genuinely felt bad about getting herself expelled.

"So as I was saying, I noticed that this Taylor and her legs were both distracted by what I'm sure was a riveting conversation with you, 'Tori', when this prick walked past and tried to pour something in her Champaign glass. The EMTs later found the container and passed in onto the police. It had GHB residue, which is why I was never prosecuted for, um, the well documented result that had the ambulance called out in the first place. Police hushed everything up for the since his family was rich, and friends with the even richer."

"Well documented result?" Max asked.

"She did what she always does Max." Victoria literally tossed her top-of-the-line smartphone across the room toward the Max and Chloe. Max really didn't understand how someone could just casually toss over a grand worth of electronics around like that and risk damaging it, but apparently Victoria could literally toss money around like it was nothing. Fortunately, Chloe safely hauled it in without blinking, before handing it off to Max. A youtube video entitled "Arcadia Asshole pays 'The Price'" sat on its screen waiting to be played.

"I've actually only done that twice, well three times, once you count Nathan." Chloe said defensively, cringing slightly at the sound of shattering glass and sound of her victim screaming played through the phone's speaker. "And he was fine. The-"

"Yes, yes. The rose bush broke his fall. Chloe, do either of your parents drive a crappy people mover, marginally better condition than Warren's?"

Marginally better? Victoria was awfully judgmental. Joyce's car had all its windows too.

"That's Joyce's, but the step-tator's borrowing it while he's fixing his surrogate peni-, er, muscle car. He's in the driveway isn't he. Fuck. Get in the closet."

Confusion spread across Max and Victoria's faces.

"Look, every time he catches someone new in here and smells bud, he goes mental. Accuses them of being a dealer."

Without another word Victoria found herself unceremoniously bundled into the closet. Max joined her shortly thereafter, though Victoria was convinced Chloe had handled the smaller girl with far greater care. Victoria was pushed hard against the back wall, Max ended up pushed hard against her, and the door slid shut in front of them. The change in light levels made it difficult to see, and Victoria tried shuffling to her left a little in an attempt to find more space. She recoiled slightly and shuddered in surprise as something brushed her nose, and the look that momentarily adorned her face wouldn't have been out of place in a horror film. Their eyes finally adjusted enough to the lighting so they could discern what had startled Victoria. It was a plaid shirt, hanging inches from her.

"It's OK Victoria, you aren't wearing it."

Victoria ground her teeth in annoyance.


The door to Chloe's room suddenly burst open, and the large muscular frame of David Madsen charged in, already aggrieved and complaining.

"I thought we had talked about blasting that punk shit."

"Dude, its indie rock."

"Whatever, I don't really give a damn. Chloe, one of my guns is missing. You don't happen to know anything about that, do you?"

Madsen didn't let Chloe answer. He suddenly registered a pungent scent in the air, and his eyes quickly located the dregs of Chloe's joint, still smouldering in her ash tray.

"And you're smoking grass in here again? Jesus, Chloe I'm the head of security at Blackwell. If people find out I've got any drugs in my home whatsoever, I could lose my job. Then we might lose the house. What the hell else am I going to do to support us, drive a bus?"

"It's not like you aren't on stronger stuff for your war rage." Chloe shot back. "And the rich priss parents at Blackwell would probably have a fit and demand your sacking if they found out the head of Blackwell security, the only man entrusted to carry a gun on campus, was up to his eyeballs in psychiatric medications to stave off memories of Afgan kids being blown up and some crazy ass dream about the end of the world. How's the bunker going by the way? Reinforced the garage enough to survive an artillery strike or an EF-5 yet?"

Max couldn't take it. There wasn't really a sense that Chloe or her Stepfather would come to blows, rather that someone had taken something fragile and thrown a glass of strong acid on it. A terse understanding, accommodation, and maybe even respect they'd miraculously achieved was being corroded away in front of her. She had to do something to take at least a part of the blame away from Chloe. She slid back the closet door and revealed herself.

"Sorry, but the joint is-"

"-Mine." Victoria finished, stepping out alongside Max.

Max shot her a surprised look. Victoria was taking the blame for Chloe? Of course Victoria had her own calculated reasons for her actions. No one of any intelligence would buy that Max was a regular pot user, while Madsen had already voiced accusations of drug use against Victoria earlier that day. And having rich parents was pretty much get out of jail free card at Blackwell, at least until someone photographed you with a gun on campus, so she wasn't actually taking much of a risk. Max, on the other hand ,was entirely beholden to Blackwell for her photography scholarship, which could be revoked at any time. In her mind, there was no reason not to indebt her new acquaintances to her, especially since at least one of them had superpowers. And, truth be told, she was getting used to the way they completely infuriated her. It wasn't like the way everyone else infuriated her either, the way they did it was almost enjoyable.

"You two." Madsen's eyes narrowed. "I don't like strangers bringing drugs into my house."

"They're not strangers, man, they're my friends." Chloe shot back defensively.

"That's almost worse, given your past record with friends Chloe. And you know this doesn't do the whole case against Nathan much good, if the two witnesses are exposed as a couple of drug dealers."

"Then we'll just have to make sure nobody finds out about this." Victoria smiled. "Besides, I don't think a single smoked joint really puts you in the dealer category, in fact I think Principal Wells would tell you this is all a misunderstanding and not to investigate further."

Madsen's eyes narrowed in anger. He'd had that little dance with Victoria before and knew she was right. Still, there was something far more serious going on with these three. He knew it. He'd actually seen proof of it. And it was time someone politely pointed out to them the dangers in lying to authority figures.

"You know, since this afternoon, I've come to the impression you weren't entirely honest about what you saw in that bathroom. I get the idea someone else was in attendance. You aren't covering for someone are you? A friend perhaps?"

He glared at Chloe knowingly. She flipped him off, but the usual bravado on her face was weakening. He knew somehow. Victoria managed to keep her poker face, but nervousness shot across Max's. Had he seen the unedited video Nathan had? And why would he even have access to a video commissioned by Courtney Wagner to raise her position in the vortex club?

"I'm confident that everything we reported, happened." Victoria somehow managed to confidently announce. That was largely true. Of course they'd omitted a few minor details. Like everything regarding Chloe's involvement.

"Really, because I see a lot of what happens at Blackwell, and if I've seen something that casts doubt on your statements, then we're going to have an issue." Madsen paced a few steps parallel to them, his demeanour that of a drill sergeant chewing out the new recruits. His theatrics were slightly curtailed by the small size of the room, but he still managed to instil a sense of ill ease fairly effectively.

"I did some checking on both of you. You both were in Seattle, prior to moving to Arcadia, weren't you?"

Max raised an eyebrow, "you too?"

"My parents owned the Chase Space art gallery, amongst other things." Victoria explained.

Well that was something of a let down as far as shock revelations went. Did he honestly think knowing something that was obviously on their school files would impress them?

"So if there's anything else either of you think you should tell me, I suggest you do it soon."

David Madsen took another, closer look at Victoria. She glared back at him with mutinous disregard.

"What in blazes? Is that blood on her sweater?"

Right. She still had the blood stains on her cardigan from back in Jefferson's class. But since the school Gestapo apparently hadn't noticed it until now, Victoria tried to milk it to strengthen her position.

"I guess I could have gotten scraped or cut when school security failed to stop Nathan attacking me. God the Blackwell guards were pathetic. How long were they looking for him? And they still failed to stop an attack on the students in their care. I was just lucky someone actually competent was there to rescue me."

"Yeah, alright, I get it. Chloe's your hero, and one day you hope to find a man almost half as strong as her. Look, since your both being so damn stubborn, I won't force this. Right now I just need to know where that damn gun is. If someone gets hurt with one of my guns-"

But at that instant, a streak of mad defiance shot across Chloe's face. David knew that look. Normally he'd give her space when he saw it, but he couldn't stand to see another kid blown away as a result of his actions or inactions, like he'd seen in Afghanistan. He had to get that gun back, and he was completely confident that nothing these little hellions could do would make him leave the room before the gun was back in his possession.

"I don't have the fucking gun on me." Chloe announced, her voice suddenly cranked to eleven. "Jesus, you want to search me or something? Fine!"

In a single fluid movement, Chloe grabbed her singlet, hoisted it over her shoulders, and threw it on the bed. David immediately found another direction to look, Max rather surprised herself in that she just stood there drinking in the view unashamedly, and Victoria practically had to fight off a seizure at the sight before her: Chloe had better abs than most of the athletes at Blackwell, football team and swim team combined, and the rest of her on display was a similar picture of toned yet somehow still feminine perfection.

"Damn it Chloe, what the hell?!"

"You want proof I don't have the gun on me. That's fine. Here, you can search me right now!"

She quickly reached for her trousers' belt, and David even more quickly left the room, cursing. Well she'd sure shown him. Figuratively and literally.

"Crazy ass exhibitionist punk kid! Jesus Christ!"

"Damn, did you see that Max! Defended my second amendment rights and banished the Step-Führer. What an epic win! Uh, Max?"

It suddenly dawned on Chloe that Max was still staring rather intently at her newly exposed areas. Her face reddened and she found herself struck by a wave of self-consciousness. What the hell? Since when was she self-conscious of anything? She'd sucked face with Juliet for the express purpose of taking photos to show other people, and felt almost nothing. Well nothing bad anyway, Juliet was hot and it had been on the whole rather enjoyable. OK, maybe she had felt a little bit empty afterwards, but she'd been feeling that way beforehand as well. The only thing that had really upset her was when fucking Victoria had pointed out a certain similarity between Juliet and a Joyce Price from the distant past. Now Max had taken a mild interest in what was visually on offer and she'd suddenly gone all shrinking violet?

"Max, what, are you just going to stand there and stare without comment? What about you Victoria, you're rich so you must be pro-second amendment. The rich people's party is always pro-second amendment"

"Oh sorry." Max managed, and successfully redirected her eyes elsewhere after several attempts.

Chloe quickly grabbed her singlet and put it back on before Max's eyes reacquired her midriff. Damn, Max may have been the one wearing the deer shirt, yet it was Chloe who'd felt paralysed in the headlights when Max started taking a peek. Meanwhile Victoria had recovered enough from her own bout of virtual epilepsy to respond with her usual degree of sardonicism.

"I'm sure the NRA are ecstatic, and at this very minute planning on a nationwide indecent exposure campaign to stem gun control."

Chloe mused that it probably would increase their membership, when she caught an earful from downstairs, where the resident lifetime member had retreated to.

"And Chloe," David's bellowing voice echoed through the house, "Victoria can't walk around all bloody like that. If you're going to be so obstinate, I at least insist you let her borrow some of your damn clothes, especially since you clearly feel you have so little need for them!"

Victoria stared in horror as Chloe opened her dresser, smiling manically. She withdrew a black shirt with the red anarchist 'A' prominently displayed on it, and paired it with a green jacket. A green flannel jacket. It seemed Victoria had been right to worry, people who stayed in Chloe's room for too long did end up in flannel.


Concluding Author's Notes:

It might help everyone to know that there was a picture of a young William and Joyce Price in the Canon game, who look exactly the same as Zachery and Juliet (it was clearly made by a paint-over of the Juliet and Zachery models). Poor Chloe.

I should also say I was a bit worried in how David's portrayal in this fic, given that in the canon game he slaps Chloe. It felt a bit cheap to outright ignore that abuse by erasing it and making him more likable. On the other hand, time powers could literally do that: edit a person's past and make them 'better'. Given how I'd developed Chloe, I just couldn't see the slap happening in this timeline, and I based the scene on the scenario where Max comes out of the closet to protect Chloe, so the slap doesn't happen anyway. I don't know, I couldn't see a completely sensitive way of handling David's redemption via time rewrite.

Finally, a few people might pick up on an oh-so-subtle reference to a joke mini-fic I once posted anonymously in a 'dark corner' of the internet. If not, don't worry, you aren't missing much.

So join in next time for the adventures of Victoria's in an anarchist shirt and Al Borland special. Perhaps if they put her fingers in a really hot cup of tea, that'll create enough improbability to teleport the tornado away by itself. It'll probably be the last chapter of day one. Wonder if I can finish it in time for Christmas. If not, try to imagine I did. :)