Part 2.
April 28-29, May 2, 2001.
Max had left her motorcycle with Cricket, a chipper redhead she had begun to think of as a friend. The other young woman had solemnly accepted responsibility for Max's motorcycle, staring at Max owlishly from behind her wire-rimmed glasses. Max's face had been pained when she bounded down the steps of the apartment complex two at a time. Zack leaned across the passenger seat of the car he had acquired, opening the door for Max. She slid into the seat next to him, flopping back with a long sigh.
"I'm going to miss her," Max said, pulling the seatbelt across her chest, snapping it into place. She rested her elbow on the open-window, hand curling against her neck.
"Cricket?" Zack inquired, pulling out of his spot. He had come across a pair of dark-lensed sunglasses somewhere, protecting his sensitive eyes against the sharp brightness spilling out through the city's streets. Behind the wheel of the car, sunglasses in place, leather coat undone around him, Zack looked surprisingly normal.
Max abandoned her musings as to what Zack would have been like without Manticore haunting his every action and thought. "Nah, not Cricket. My motorcycle," Max answered, her voice longingly caressing the final word. "Me an' my baby have been through a lot together."
"It was--" Zack began, still focused on the road before them. He turned, merging into the heavier traffic beyond the immediate boundaries of Max's former neighbourhood.
"I know," Max said, waving away Zack's response. "Necessity's a bitch, is all." Max leaned forward, slim fingers flicking at the car's radio. She shifted through several stations, eyes narrowed as she silently critiqued the merits of each in the span of seconds. She was about to move on when Zack's voice stopped her.
"Leave it there," he said, casting a quick glance in her direction.
Max arched an eyebrow. "You like this kinda stuff?" she asked, not attempting to hide her surprised amusement. "What layers you have, Zack!"
". . .you got me on my knees. Layla, I'm begging you darling please. Layla, darling, won't you ease my worried mind?" Zack sang along with the radio, only slightly off-key. The corner of Zack's lips twitched upwards, softening his face. "The story of our relationship," he commented. Max snorted and Zack's slight smile blossomed into a full-fledged grin. "I had a friend who was wild about this type of music. Classics, she called them--had one cd or another running near non-stop."
They knew how to read each other well. Long association and the hyped-up senses bred into them made spotting and interpreting physical reactions easier than would have otherwise been the case. She could read fondness into Zack's voice when he spoke of his old friend. Zack had rarely spoken of his life during the three years before he had found her, nor did he make much mention of what he did while not with her or the others. In truth, Max has suspected that Zack had no life beyond the X5s. "A good friend?" Max inquired.
"Good enough," Zack replied easily.
Max lay a dramatic hand against her heart, her voice mock-outraged. "And I thought I was the only one," she gasped.
He knew that she was joking, but Zack answered her seriously. "You are, Max." His tone lightened, quickly brushing over the seriousness he had let slip into their conversation. "At the time, though, you were busy with..." Zack pursed his lips, exaggerated consideration, "Danny? John? Peter?"
"Enough! Enough!" Max protested, holding out her hand, open palm towards him. "I get the idea." She looked at Zack from beneath lowered lashes, idly twirling a lock of hair about her finger. "What was she like? This woman you risked becoming. . . friends with?" She had thought paranoia would have left Zack isolated, removed from the people about him. She would never had believed that he would become attached to a regular bed partner. 'The things we learn,' Max thought.
"Pretty," Zack said.
"Of course," Max said wryly.
Zack shot her a glance, eyes hidden behind the dark lenses he wore. "Smart. Funny." He paused, struggling to put the woman's character into words, neatly categorized. "There aren't words to describe her. She was the first non-X5 I ever felt at ease with."
"You?" Max said incredulously. "At ease?"
"Something close enough to it, then."
"So what happened?" Max prodded when Zack lapsed into silence, thoughts held to himself for a long stretch of minutes. The song which had begun their current conversation had ended, a new song filling with car with the sound of wailing guitars and a man's climbing voice.
Zack shrugged, once again focused on the road as they neared a border crossing. "I'd been there too long. I was starting to feel. . . comfortable. I picked up and moved on." Zack eased down on the brakes. He slid his sunglasses off, hooking them on the neck of his t-shirt. He picked up his wallet, laying in the space between their seats, flipping through it as he searched through their papers.
Max sank lower down in her seat, arms crossed over her stomach. "The world would be a whole lot easier without those creeps," she muttered below the range of human hearing, glancing in the direction of the uniformed pair at the post before them.
"The world has never been easy," Zack commented. "And you'd get bored without the frustrations."
"I'd be willing to give boredom a try," Max sighed.
They sat in silence as the approached the guards. The older of the pair thrust out a gloved hand, demanding to see their papers. Zack passed them out, sitting still with his hands lightly resting on the steering wheel as the other man flipped through their identification. He was tensed, unnoticeable to any who didn't know him well, always fearful that they should somehow be discovered. The papers were finally handed back to Zack through the open window. He waited for the guard's cut nod before moving through the gates. Zack kept glancing back in the rearview mirror until the station slid out of sight.
"So, how do we play this?" Max asked, her voice a sudden explosion of sound into the silence. She flicked the radio back on.
"I make the rounds, stopping in to see each of them a few times a year. I visit them in order of geographical proximity, except in the case of emergencies." He paused, drawing his sunglasses back into place. "I think you may be surprised by some of the things you find when we stop in to see some of our family." Zack's voice was slow, cautious when he continued. "Most of them are well-adjusted. Others. . . Dee and Ben, mostly--they're difficult."
Max silently assimilated that information. She licked her lips, straightening once again in her seat. "Difficult how?" Max inquired, pushing back a wave of unease. She had worried about her family's physical safety, but Max had for the most part pictured them leading lives much like her own. Max had been unwilling to contemplate the possibility that any of her siblings had been adversely affected by their rush towards freedom.
"Neither of them has adjusted as well as could have been hoped," Zack finally responded. "Dee is wild, thoughtless, over-emotional, prone to mood swings and violence. Ben is still trying to complete a mission long since over." Zack shrugged, but looking at his profile, Max could see the faintest traces of sorrow settled into his expression. "You'll see for yourself soon enough."
"Who are we seeing first?" Max asked.
"Dee," Zack answered shortly.
"Ah, tossing me right into the deep end, are you?" Max said, keeping her voice light. Zack made no move to answer. Max sighed, leaning her head back. She turned her head to the side, watching buildings and people flicker by them as they drove further away from the last in a long line of lives Max had given up.
...~*~...
Dee was living surprisingly close to Max's old home. They reached her within a week after leaving Max's. Max's curled hands rested in the deep pockets of her jacket. It took a conscious effort to keep from shifting nervously from foot to foot. She was excited at the thought of seeing her sister again, but Zack's words, both when he had first spoken of Dee and his warning before they had exited the car, had served to taint her anticipation with unease. "Be careful with her," Zack had cautioned before they had started up the steps to Dee's apartment.
Zack rapped at the door with his knuckles, waiting a moment before he rattled at the doorknob. He nudged the door open, slipping into the apartment, Max close behind him. The music that they'd been able to hear from the other side of the door was worse inside the apartment. Max looked around curiously as Zack sought out the radio, turning down the volume to a more moderate level. The living room was a mess, Max noted with some disapproval. She hadn't shaken off the neatness that Manticore had insisted upon. Dee obviously had cast aside that bit of training.
"Bedroom," Zack gestured to Max's nod. She had heard the sounds emerging from that direction. The two X5s cautiously made their way towards the half-open bedroom door. Max peered around Zack, catching sight of bouncing blue curls and the pale expanse of Dee's bare back. There was a startled yelp as Dee turned away from her closet, finally seeing Zack. Dee squealed, racing forward on bare feet. Max took a step back as Dee's arms flung out past Zack's neck before curling inwards, catching him in a hug. She could hear the sound of kisses being pressed to Zack's cheeks.
"Dee," Zack said. "Dee!" He turned around awkwardly, the young woman still clinging to his neck. He gently disentangled himself, nudging Dee so that she turned to face Max.
Dee's blue eyes narrowed as she considered the other woman. They went wide with recognition a moment later. "Max?" she gasped. She flung herself forward, slim arms chokingly tight around Max's neck. Dee rubbed her cheek against Max's, an old greeting. "You smell like each other," Dee said sharply, releasing Max to turn back towards Zack. "You'll sleep with her but not me?" Dee wailed, lower lip pushed out into a pout. "Aren't I as pretty as her?"
A muscle in Zack's jaw twitched. "_Dee_," he warned. He met Max's eyes above Dee's head. 'You see what I meant?' Zack's expression demanded. He sidestepped Dee's question with a firm question of his own. "How did we manage to catch you off guard? You should have realized we were here."
Dee's hand flicked dismissively, purple nail-polish sparkling. "Worry, worry, worry!" she said. "It was you, I didn't need to worry."
"What if it weren't us?" Zack said, his voice calm by pure force of will.
"It was, so what's the big deal?" Dee replied calmly, teary-eyed accusation forgotten. She bounded around Zack, back into her bedroom. They could hear the clatter of hangers as Dee shifted through her closet. "Maxie?" Dee called out. "I need a woman's opinion." She was holding two shirts before her when Max entered the room. "Zack's always such a lump," Dee confided with a despairing sigh. "The red?" Dee continued, with barely a breath between comment and question. She held out a skimpy red halter top. "Or the black?" Dee motioned towards a gauzy black blouse.
Max considered each thoughtfully. "The--"
"Black, right. You're a genius, Maxie, really," Dee gushed, tossing the red top onto the bed. She slid the black off its hanger, letting the hanger fall to the floor. Dee pulled on the shirt, buttoning it with a quick flicker of her fingers, pulling the material closed over her lacy bra. She lifted her hair, fluffing it with spread fingers before letting it fall over her shoulders. She smoothed her hands over her leather pants, rising to the toes of her high-heeled boots as she twirled. "How'd I look?"
"Fine," Max answered shortly, desperately wondering what had happened to the Dee she had known. This girl was flightier than Max's last roommate had been. Even having known her, Max was having difficulty believing that Dee had received any military training.
Zack was leaning against the door-frame, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were narrowed. "What are you up to, Dee?" he asked quietly.
"Up to?" Dee echoed, batting her eyelashes. "Why are you always so suspicious? Must you always think the worst of me?" she asked, her voice rising dramatically with each word. Her chest was heaving, eyes once again filled with tears when she concluded.
Max thought Zack would have rolled his eyes had such an action not been a less than leader-like reply. "Enough with the dramatics. Answer the question." Max was surprised by the relative easiness with which Dee was getting off. Had she herself dared such foolishness, Zack would have cut her down with scornful words that hadn't dulled in their power despite years free from Manticore.
"Same ol'," Dee answered. She moved to her closet, squatting as the reached for something on the floor, hidden behind dozens of tumbled shoes. Dee pulled a gun case out, setting on the bed beside her discarded shirt. She flipped the top open, eyes reverent as she pulled out the weapon. "She's a beauty, isn't she?" Dee breathed.
Max fought back a shudder at the sight of the gun. "What are you doing, Dee?" she asked.
"_You_ don't get to ask me questions, you get me?" Dee snarled, waving the unloaded gun in Max's direction. Wide-eyed, she turned to Zack. "She doesn't, does she?" Dee asked, snarl fading away to be replaced by a soft little-girl's voice.
"Answer the question," Zack demanded.
Dee sighed, casting an apologetic glance in Max's direction. "Sorry. No hard feelings?" she shot towards Max before moving her attention back to Zack. "I'm gonna shoot someone," Dee said simply. "Wanna come?"
Zack's face went utterly still. He pushed away from the door, moving towards Dee with measured steps. She was staring up at him, wide eyed, painted lips parted, when Zack gripped her shoulders. "Tell me," Zack growled, fingers curling into the soft flesh of Dee's shoulders.
Dee licked her lips, still looking up at Zack. "Jeff," she said, as if the name explained everything. Zack didn't release her. Dee sighed before continuing. "He saw my barcode, somehow," Dee paused, eyes distant, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her painted lips. "Anyway, the next thing I knew, he was back at my door demanding the use of my specialized talents or he said he'd turn me in."
"How did he know what your barcode signifies?" Max inquired. She had moved around from behind Zack's back so that she had a view of both the X5s. Zack looked tense with anger and frustration. Max no longer knew Dee as well as she once had--especially considering the immense changes which had taken place within her sister. Nonetheless, Max would have been willing to state that Dee didn't appear unduly upset by her current position.
Dee cast Max a quick look, winking before she shifted in Zack's grip, making her CO clamp down harder on her shoulders. "He's the son of some military bigwig," Dee answered.
Zack released her so suddenly that Dee fell back a step, collapsing back onto her bed. "What the hell were you thinking?" he gnashed, hands fisted at his sides.
She was sitting at the foot of her bed, hands folded one atop the other between her spread knees. "I was thinking that he looked wonderfully fuckable," Dee shrugged. "Can't say I was thinking much beyond that at the time." Her voice turned accusing suddenly, "you know, I wouldn't be in this situation if you'd just loosen up and have a bit of fun with me."
Max and Zack both ignored her. "I'll take care of this," Zack sighed without much heat. He sounded resigned, well-used to bailing the woman out of difficult situations. Zack had moved towards Max, resting his hands on her hips. His fingers curled in towards her back, tapping out a silent message out of Dee's sight. 'Stay here. Keep an eye on her,' his moving fingers commanded.
Max looked into Zack's tight face, seeing something that disturbed her. She swallowed, nodding slowly.
Zack released her, turned back towards Dee. "Tell me everything."
Dee grinned. "I knew I could count on you, brother mine."