A/N: Sorry this took so long but both me and my beta have lives, so here's the next bit. Hope everyone likes it.

Thankyou to everyone who has and will reveiw. It helps a lot.

Big up to my beta Maria656 again, it would be really rubbish without her.

Saturday night …

"Where is this thing anyway?" Max asked, annoyed that she was probably missing a bomb-ass barbeque to spend the night playing nice with a bunch of pompous, rich snobs with sticks up their asses.

With her revved up DNA she could fit in like she was born and bred among them, but being hit on by men old enough to be her grandfather wasn't her ideal way to spend her Saturday night. She was thankful they had missed the church service though; the whole deal was something people made up because they were too scared to die alone. It was phoney sentimentality and that's what got you killed.

"The lodge," her mother answered, not fazed in the slightest by Max's huff.

This was a fancy party if they were taking the limo, but it seemed to be just for appearance's sake since the lodge was only fifteen minutes away from their house. As the limo doors were opened by the waiting valet, Max stepped out gracefully, smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress. Krit followed straightening his bow tie and their parents were last, before the limo was swept away to make room for the next arrivals. Max had to give her boys credit; they both looked very suave in their tuxedos although her father looked really uncomfortable. He let out a string of curses in Spanish and was rewarded with a stiff nudge in the ribs by his wife.

"Quit, whining Rick, you're not the only one who's uncomfortable," she warned as she led the way up the stairs to the large oak doors that lead into the ballroom.

"But Gabi, you know I hate these things!" he moaned, sounding like a five year old.

At the top of the stairs, before she entered the doors, Gabrielle turned and looked at the three with a stern look on her face. Max and Krit were struggling to keep a straight face. "Rick, suck it up. Krit, no spiking anything and Max no fighting. No ifs, ands or buts either," she added before turning and plastering a smile on her face. "Game faces everybody."

Once inside they were greeted by various people who knew either Gabrielle or Rick and promises were made to find each other later on in the evening. An attendant made sure they found their seats at the designated table in order to get the speeches and toasts out of the way. The main table where the bride and groom sat was covered in white, as were the hundred other tables scattered around the room, each dusted with rose petals and seven tiered candlesticks that stretched out of the centrepiece. The couple looked so happy and in love, and for the first time it occurred to Max that she didn't even know whose wedding she was at.

"Mom, who's the happy couple?" she whispered as the speeches began.

"The bride is Marianne Summers – her father is a big time lawyer in New York and the groom is Bennett Cale. His father owns a manufacturing company but is more known for a pharmaceutical company he helped his brother set up."

It couldn't be; maybe it was just a coincidence. Cale! Pharmaceutical company! It doesn't get any more coincidental. It still doesn't mean Logan is … Her musings were brought to a grinding halt as the stocky and slightly boozed up man that had been speaking introduced the best man and handed the microphone over to Eyes Only himself, Logan Cale.

A sheen of sweat lined his brow and the hand which held his cue cards shook slightly; he was so nervous he didn't look up once throughout his whole speech which in itself was short and to the point; you could sense his relief as it came to a close. With the speeches over and the toasts made, it gave everyone a chance to leave their tables and roam the room. Max tailed her parents for a while, but soon grew tired of the mindless exchanges about the stock markets and the latest news story. Deciding she needed alcohol and lots of it, since it took at least triple the normal amount to get an X5 close to tipsy, Max made her way towards the bar, noting the stares she was getting but ignoring them diligently. Flying solo at a wedding was definitely risky business. As she approached the bar she noticed Logan perched on one of the stools being served what looked like his fourth shot of tequila - if the pile of glasses next to him was anything to go by. Max was just about to seek a reason as to why he was drowning his sorrows when Logan was approached by two couples.

"Logan, I'm glad to see you didn't piss yourself when you gave your speech," the tall guy with short brown hair teased maliciously. "That would have been tragic." His three companions laughed. Max doubted either of the women attached firmly to their partner's arm could even add two plus two but daddy was rich so who cared.

"At least they're teaching him to read at that public school," the thinner guy commented, and the haughty giggles erupted again. Logan downed his shot calmly and turned in his chair to face the group. "I'm glad you liked it Brent," he said deadpanned, "but I don't go to public school."

"Thank you for clearing that up," Brent sneered. "But tell me Logan, are there any girls at your school or did none of them want to come with a loser like you."

That was the last straw. Max sauntered towards Logan and gently grabbed his right shoulder, making him as well as his tormentors turn to look at her.

"Hey honey, sorry I'm late, my limo had a flat tire," she pouted, sounding out of breath and bending to give Logan a quick peck on the cheek. She paused by his ear as she pulled back to whisper, "Go along with it".

Not liking being ignored Brent cleared his throat loudly. "And you are?" he asked, not bothering to hide his inspection of her body.

"Busy," Max said simply, turning back to the bar and ordering herself a cherry cocktail. Logan still sat there with the same bewildered look on his face. Honey?

His mind was just having trouble taking in the fact that she was actually there and wearing that. The black dress hugged her perfect curves before it flared out at her hips into long pieces of seemingly ripped fabric that stopped just short of her knees. The collar stretched across neck line turning into off-the-shoulder long sleeves that flared at the cuff, but as far as Logan was concerned the best part about it was the back which left most of her back exposed descending in a glorious V-shape that stopped just past her waistline. The dress was complimented by the perfect pair of six inch heels and her hair was in a messy bun that let some curls loose with two stray strands framing her face.

Logan was in awe and idly noticed that she had covered up her barcode, when the power of speech returned to him the only thing he could manage was, "You clean up nice."

Before Max could reply Brent stepped in. "You better keep you woman in check, Logan," he snapped.

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Logan quipped, not even bothering to look at Brent as he said it. His mood had just improved and it was all because Max was standing next to him.

"Like, how rude!" the blonde hanging off of Brent's arm said, confirming Max's bimbo assumption.

"Wow, Barbie speaks!" Max exclaimed, a look of fascination crossing her features, "The wonders of modern science – did it come with batteries?"

Logan sniggered as Max continued to smile sweetly until they turned on their heels and left in a huff. Logan was practically crying with laughter and Max was happy to see a smile on his face. His laughter subsided and he looked at her seriously.

"They'll be back you know," he noted.

"I know." She smiled before taking a sip from her cocktail and taking a seat on the stool next to him. The bartender came and handed her a shot of tequila.

"On the house." He smiled at her questioning look. "It's about time someone showed these rich brats what's what."

Max accepted the glass willingly, downed it and turned to find Logan with his head on his folded arms on top of the bar. Max took in his dishevelled appearance and rubbed his back soothingly, thinking he had one too many. At her touch he shifted to look at her. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"For what?" she asked confused.

"My family," he said simply.

"That was family?" she said before she could catch herself, disbelief crossing her face.

"Yup, Brent and Byron Cale," Logan supplied sadly.

"If you hate them so much why are you here?"

"The groom, Bennett, is their brother, my cousin and the only one of them that isn't evil to the core, couldn't say no to being his best man. I think he only asked me to piss off his dad." Logan called for another shot which was diligently delivered and consumed; Max shook her head in disapproval.

"Drowning your sorrows won't help."

"What else would you suggest?"

"Dance with me." It was more an order than a suggestion.

"In front of everyone, I don't think so!"

"C'mon," she coaxed, jumping off her stool. "It'll be fun, take your mind off things."

"Well, with you in that dress no one is going to be looking at me."

"Exactly, and if I'm seen with you, I won't get hit on by every lonely guy in the joint." She smiled as he took her hand.

She fixed his bowtie, straightened his jacket and led him onto the dance floor where a slow classical song was being played. Logan led Max in a graceful waltz around the floor; holding her close was like a sick dream he never wanted to wake up from.

"What is this?" Max asked, looking up into his deep blue eyes having noticed Logan humming along.

"Valse Triste by Sibelius." Logan smiled at her pensive look even though she probably didn't know who Sibelius was.

The music surrounded them, oddly comforting, making it easy to lose yourself in the rhythm until nothing else existed except the two of them moving where the music guided them. Both ignored the little voice in the back of their heads that screamed for them to acknowledge how good it felt to be this close, it was after all only an innocent dance between friends.

"Oh dear," Gabrielle said as she watched her daughter and this young stranger glide from here to there.

"What?" Rick asked, curious.

"Look," said Gabrielle, pointing at the pair. "What do you see?

"Max…" he answered, still confused. "… Dancing! … with a boy ... I have never met!"

Gabrielle grabbed her husbands arm as he made a move to go and separate the two in all his fatherly glory.

"I don't think you want to do that," she said calmly.

"And why not?" The furrows in his brow deepened with confusion.

"Because, I do believe our daughter is smitten," Gabrielle observed.

"Mom, no one uses the word 'smitten' anymore," Krit provided as he returned to their table with the drinks he had gone to get. "It's just not cool, but saying Max has the hots for Logan would be more culturally acceptable."

"So that's Logan hey? That explains a lot."

"Not to me!" Rick said, frustrated that he was out of the loop.

"Here's the long and short of it Papi," Krit said, sitting next to his dad and leaning in close. "Max likes Logan and Logan likes Max – it's just that someone has forgotten to tell them that."

"How do you know Max likes him?" Rick asked, just because his daughter was dancing with the guy didn't mean she 'had the hots for him'.

Krit shook his head and chuckled. "He touched her bike and lived to tell about it."

"Wow," Rick said astonished.

"Yup," agreed Krit, his point made.

The last reverberating notes of Valse Triste brought Max and Logan's progress to a stop and reality came crashing in around them, but not before something neither of them were expecting happened. Max started purring, a deep throaty vibration that reverberated through Logan's chest making his knees go weak. A sly smile spread across his lips when he realised she didn't know what she was doing.

"Max…" he whispered softly, "Are you purring?"

The vibrations stopped as soon as they were mentioned and Max looked up, her brown eyes wide with shock. "I'm so sorry," she conceded, avoiding his gaze. "That happens sometimes, feline DNA and all."

Logan tightened his grip around her waist urging her eyes back to his and with a mischievous grin he said, "Do it again!"

"Easy there tiger, we've been through this," Max replied with a smile that matched his. "Besides, I can't. Don't know how it happens, just does."

"Interesting," he mused as they came to a halt, his good mood slowly shifting when he actually noticed the attention he was getting.

Being the gentleman he was, he offered Max his arm and led her off the dance floor and into the almost deserted foyer to seek refuge from the wide eyed scrutiny. Once free Logan let out a sigh and leaned heavily against the wall, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Max stood next to him, waiting patiently for him to recollect himself and her ears prickled when part of a conversation reached her sensitive ears.

"…thinks he's so smart, him and his 'date'. How did that loser get with a stunner like her?"

"Probably paid her to come with him, I doubt she came by choice."

"Yeah, it's not like Logan hasn't got the money for it now that mommy and daddy's trust fund kicked in."

Max's anger began to rise as she realised that she and Logan were the topic of the conversation which was undoubtedly between Byron and Brent.

"Come to think of it," Byron added, "other than a dance and a peck on the cheek, she hardly touched him."

"Well, I'd be disgusted too if I were her, I mean look at him!"

The voices grew louder and were accompanied by footsteps coming down the hall to their left. Disgusted! Max was outraged. That was pretty rich coming from that scum. Let's see what they make of this!

Wordlessly Max grabbed the back of Logan's head, and pressed her lips to his. Logan stood there stunned, his back pushed up against the wall. Not about to question his luck he eagerly responded after the initial shock wore off. He was vaguely aware of two people entering the foyer but that idle thought was discarded as the taste of cherries blew his mind. Taking control he leaned forward then turned leaving Max with her back against the wall, her hands snaked around his neck. They might have been there minutes, hours, years, but Max finally pulled back and stopped his further attempts to claim her lips by placing two fingers on his. Brent and Byron were no where to be found, her father, however at the entrance to the ballroom his face crimson with rage.

"Daddy… your blood pressure," Max warned calmly, unrelenting under his fierce stare.

At the word 'Daddy' Logan hastily moved so that he wasn't pressing her up against the wall. Krit appeared chuckling at his father's side, every fibre of Max's being told her that he ratted on her and was now enjoying the murderous look on his father's face; she made a silent vow that he was going to pay.

"Krit, get your mother, we're leaving!" his voice was a restrained calm as he made the order his eyes never leaving his daughter. Five minutes later Max was being marched into the limo as her father spouted a lecture about his daughter the exhibitionist, one that lasted the journey home where the repercussions were set,

"You will never speak to that boy again!" Her father yelled in a tone of finality as Max retreated into her room.

no promises as to when the next one will be up but i will try my hardest to do it as soon as possible :)

thanks for reading :)