Part 5
May 16-18, 2001.
Max cast a sultry look in the motel manager's direction. She drew her tongue across her lower lip, and the man behind the desk froze, watching her with wide eyed fascination. Max flashed him a wide grin filled with promises before yelping when Zack's hand tightened around her wrist, moving her behind him. Max rested her cheek against Zack's back, rubbing her face against his soft leather coat. Her arms wrapped around his waist, hands wandering down towards his zipper. He'd slapped her hands away in the car before they ended up driving straight into the rear of the truck in front of them. His restraint was slipping, because Max managed to get the button of his jeans undone before Zack made any move to stop her.
Zack didn't yelp at the contact, but his voice was decidedly strained. "The key," he growled at the balding man who had been watching the show before him, the key to the room Zack had rented dangling from his hand. "_Now_!" Zack roared and the other man snapped back to attention, shoving the key across the counter. Zack grabbed the key, holding it so hard that it bit into his flesh. He turned around, wrapping one arm around Max's shoulders. She cast a last flirtatious glance at the manager over her shoulder before letting Zack lead her away, squirming against him the entire torturous journey towards their room.
The door had barely slammed shut behind them before Max pounced.
She wasn't quite sure how much time had passed when she cautiously cracked her eyes open. Max winced slightly, mentally checking off her various aches and twinges. "Oh, fuck," Max groaned. Zack had collapsed beside her on the bed, weary enough that he hadn't stirred even at Max's exclamation. She flung a bare arm across her eyes, letting loose with a pained curse as her shoulder pulled. 'Now, how did. . . oh, that, right,' Max recalled where exactly in the last while she had received that particular injury.
This was in no way how she had envisioned concluding their visit with Tinga. Knowing that Tinga understood what was happening had not made things any easier--indeed, having another X5 female present had opened up an entirely new realm of uncomfortable possibilities. She had known it was definitely time to get out when Tinga had snarled at her--understandable, Max thought with an small groan, considering that Max had been sashaying towards Charlie at the time. They had been lucky that Zack had intercepted her before had Charlie noticed and things got ugly. She had been firmly ushered out of Tinga's home by Zack who had proceeded to buckle her into the car with a firm admonition to stay still. He had been gone only long enough to grab the bags Tinga had passed out to him.
Zack had drifted into wakefulness at some point while Max reviewed the--long, she thought dejectedly--list of her heat-induced actions. He lifted his head, and Max got her first sight of the scratches on the cheek which had previously been hidden from her view. Their bodies expended energy healing more serious injuries before the minor ones were addressed, and the scratches were still vivid against Zack's face. Zack licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Next time," he began, testing his voice, "we aren't going anywhere near any of the others while you're in heat."
"No arguments from me there," Max said, nodding minutely. She didn't even want to consider the possibilities. The pillow had been scrunched up between the mattress and headboard. Max's arm stretched outwards, freeing the pillow. She pulled under her aching head, shifting so that her head turned towards Zack though Max remained stretched out on her back. "You mind if we just lay here for a while?" she asked, unable to so much as imagine rising to her feet.
Zack grunted his agreement. "I don't think I can stand," he said, head dropping back down to lay on the mattress. "My knee suffered some definite damage."
"I told you I wanted to be on top," Max mumbled around her pillow. It was weird, Max thought. When her cycle had driven her to seek out guys in the past they would go at it until the man she had chosen was too exhausted to do any more. It had been intense, but not especially rough. Max's eyes widened suddenly. "Zack, tell me that the manager didn't show up at our door to tell us to keep it down."
He looked at her blearily. "I took care of him," Zack muttered.
"That's what I thought," Max sighed. "You know, we're goin' to have to pay more if you broke any bones."
"Whatever," Zack responded. He paused, his voice mildly annoyed when he continued. "I don't know what people were complaining about. We're far more interesting that any of the crap they'd have paid to watch here, anyhow."
Max snorted, holding her hands to her stomach. "Ouch--don't make me laugh," she pleaded. "I don't doubt some people got a kick out of the vocals, but it probably wore thin for those who weren't here after a while." Max carefully propped herself up on her elbows. Her body didn't protest too much, so Max slowly slid her feet towards the ground. She stood still a moment, making sure she gained her balance before attempting to move. "I call the shower."
"Go ahead," Zack said, wriggling into the extra space vacated with Max's departure. "Open the window, would you? Can't breath in here."
...~*~...
They had stopped late in the afternoon for lunch and a bit of exercise. Zack had pulled their latest car into the emptied parking lot of an old building which had once housed a Dairy Queen. The two X5s had settled down at one of the picnic tables beyond the building, setting the brown-bagged lunches Tinga had provided on the table's chipping surface. Max absently batted at the flies which had drifted away from the garbage can several feet away towards she and Zack. She unfolded the top of the bag, blindly feeling the contents within it. Max emerged a moment later with a partially squashed muffin. She peeled away the wrapping and broke off a piece, popping it into her mouth. "Carrot," Max commented. "Want a piece?" she asked, holding it out to Zack.
"No, thanks," Zack replied as he emerged triumphant from his own bag with a slightly bruised apple.
"Oh, Zack," Max sighed mournfully. "Whenever will you discover the joys of junk food?" She dropped another piece of muffin into her mouth before licking off her fingers. Zack simply shot her a steady look and Max stuck her tongue out at him. He shook his head slightly and heaved an exaggerated sigh. The muffin had been whittled away to a manageable size. She lifted it to her mouth, absently tearing away crumbling carrot-flavoured segments. Her free hand rested against her neck, elbow propped on the table-top. Her fingers curled towards the back of her neck, fingertips resting on the dark bands imprinted in her flesh. "Zack?"
He looked towards her, an eyebrow quirked questioningly. "Yeah?"
Someone had cut two names into the table-top, a crudely drawn heart etched around the names. Max traced the shallow grooves with her index finger. "You want kids?" she asked.
Zack managed not to choke on his mouthful of apple. He chewed, swallowed and cleared his throat. "Are you kidding?" he demanded. Zack was regarding her warily, as if he had never seen her before.
Max waved off his incredulous reply. "I mean if things were different--if we didn't have Manticore hounding us." Max shot a quick glance in Zack's direction from beneath lowered eyelashes. He had shifted on his side of the table, moving so that his side rested against the edge of the table-top. The position afforded him a view of most of their surroundings and left his face in profile.
"No, I don't want kids--not even if things were different," Zack finally said. "I don't think I'd make a good parent. I doubt that I'd even be an adequate one." He shot her a curious look. "What brought this on, Max?"
"Tinga and her family," Max responded. "I remember thinking that it was so cool, so absolutely wonderful that Tinga had a kid--that maybe, if she could manage normal, so could I." Max shrugged, wiping her palms against her thighs under the table. "But this morning when we woke up, that wasn't anything near normal. It's something I wanted, you know? A life like everyone's else. I don't think I'd be good at it, though."
"We aren't normal," Zack said simply, as if surprised that Max could still be struggling with something he had long since dismissed within his own mind. His eyes turned hard, "if you plan on helping me with the others, now really isn't a good time to start longing for normalcy, husband, children and white picket fence, Max." He stood, sending his apple core twirling through the air to land neatly in the garbage can. Zack held out his hand, waiting patiently until Max took it.
"I wasn't longing," Max informed him haughtily, "I was simply reflecting upon alternate lifestyles." Zack had led her several steps away from the empty picnic tables. Max rolled her eyes when she noted the stance he had fallen into. "I think we've already given each other enough of a workout for a good long while," she said, nonetheless moving into a position which mirrored Zack's.
Zack's lips twitched into a fleeting smile. "Got to make sure you're up to speed," he said and lashed out with his clenched fist. He had repeatedly brought up the idea of a regular training program every time he had visited Max in the past. She had consistently refused to spend their often limited time together sparring. He had initiated new sessions shortly after Dee had left them--inspired anew, Max had suspected, by her fight with her sister. Max always groaned in protest, but she enjoyed sparring with Zack. It felt good to simply let go. And making Zack bleed was a surprisingly helpful form of stress relief.
Zack caught hold of Max's wrist. With a quick move, he sent her sprawling into the grass they had spent the last several minutes trampling. The various aches which had quieted during their drive reawakened--duller than previously, but still uncomfortable. "I give," Max sighed. Getting her own butt kicked wasn't half as fun as bringing Zack down.
"That," Zack stated firmly, "was pitiful."
Max propped herself up on her forearms, idly picking at the grass beneath her with thumb and forefinger. "I seem to recall getting a few good blows in," Max defended herself without much heat. Zack found things to critique even when he didn't win. She sometimes considered the possibility that Zack simply wasn't happy unless he was finding things in which to express his disapproval. "Should have kicked you in that knee--we'd see how pitiful I'd have been then."
"Come on, get up," Zack said, holding his hand out to her.
"Not if you're going to make me fight again," Max said. She sighed when Zack simply stared at her. "Fine, fine, be that way," she muttered, accepting Zack's hand. He pulled her up. It was strange, Max thought, that they had always helped each other back to their feet at the end of a sparing session even though any of them could have bounded back to their feet without any real difficulty. "What brought this on?" Max inquired, on her feet again. She brushed off the seat of her pants and shook at the hem of her shirt to shake loose the grass caught against her clothing.
"We're doing something a bit different before we stop in to see any of the others," Zack answered her.
"Well, go on," Max prodded when Zack stopped.
"I have a contact inside of Manticore," Zack informed her. He looked mildly amused at Max's surprise. "What? You thought I was too hot-headed to do work with informants?" He began walking, moving back towards the picnic table where the remainders of their lunches had been left. Max fell into step beside him. "He said he has some information for me. He wants to meet."
"You trust him?"
"No," Zack answered. He didn't trust anybody--not even her, Max knew. Zack depended upon her more than he did anyone else, but there were things he wouldn't even trust her with. She understood. Max doubted that any of the X5s were capable of shaking off enough of their training to trust anyone fully. "But he's proven to be reliable in the past." Zack paused, face tightening. "He's the one who told me that Manticore had a lead on Tosh."
Max's eyes widened. "You don't think--"
Zack shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. "It didn't sound like an emergency."
"Where and when?" Max asked, her mind already racing through all the possibilities. For all her longing for a peaceful life, Max held a certain enjoyment for jobs which required the use of skills she had spent her childhood honing.
Zack shrugged. "I don't know yet. This is something big, it's going to take some planning on my contact's end. He needs to get away from Manticore and get ahold of the package he wants to deliver. Soon enough." Zack stopped at the table, picking up his lunchbag which was still filled with other items of food. Tinga was serious about providing a complete lunch. "Let's go," Zack said. "We've been here long enough."
...~*~...