Author's Note: Should I even bother continuing?
Present;
Alec channel-flipped through the usual Saturday night television. Some show with dancing women that weren't wearing anything held his attention until a Twinkie commercial started. "Fucking Twinkies," he muttered, changing the channel. That Twinkie commercial was everywhere; on every channel, in every language. He wondered if Logan was at all jealous of the Twinkie's marvelous broadcasting powers.
There it was again! The small cake seemed to dance to a badly out-of-tune Twinkie song. At the end, it was dancing so fast that it snapped in half. Alec rolled his eyes and changed the channel again- ah, no dancing Twinkies. It was America's Most Wanted, baby. Too bad he was completely occupied with wondering where Max hid her beer.
"Tonight on America's Most Wanted... Have you seen this man? Alec Worcestishistershire--" Alec cringed. Not at the fact that he was on America's Most Wanted, but because they'd fucked up his fake last name. Was Worcestershire so hard to say? Gawd, he'd even gotten it from a sauce bottle so that people would be able to pronounce it. "--is wanted for felony murder of eleven people."
There was a rough police sketch of him shown. "Described by police and witnesses as a good-looking young man, approximately six feet tall with hazel eyes and brown hair," the host continued, "Mr. Worcestershire is considered armed and dangerous, and is currently being hunted by the police for the murders he committed one year ago. According to police, he would supposedly put barcodes on the backs of their necks before hunting them down and killing them. If you have any info..."
- - - - -
Max stirred her fork around in her spaghetti aimlessly, too frustrated with herself to eat. Here she was, eating pasta with Logan, even though she and Alec had-- "So how's life?" She asked, trying to interrupt thoughts with words. Logan sort of did a "comme si comme ca" movement with his hand and went back to eating.
"Look- Logan- Maybe it's best if we don't see each other any more." He swallowed and looked at her intently, knowing he couldn't say anything. Max stared down at her plate, still fidgeting with her fork. She didn't want to see the expression on his face when she spoke "It's just- We can't touch. You're human, I'm not..." She started to really get into her speech, shrugging her shoulders for emphasis and still staring at her spaghetti. "And me and Alec slept together..." Her eyes finally met his, and she instantly wished they hadn't. Fuck, I wish I could hit reverse and not say that...
"Max." The word formed in his mouth, but no sound came out. Not like it mattered, she could lip-read. "You were in heat, right?" Max couldn't hear any intonation in his voice of course, but his face said it all. He was practically begging her to give her another answer.
She shook her head, stood up, pushed in her chair. "I'm sorry, Logan. Thanks for the grub."
- - - - -
"Look who's home," Alec muttered from the living room a short while later. "You and Logan didn't get into a fight I guess, because he can't talk and you can't touch him and..." His voice trailed as she sat down on the couch and curled up in it, saying nothing. "Max, you okay?"
"No," she said simply. With a sigh, he put the bowl of nachos on the ground and sat down beside her. "Go away, Alec," Max barely whispered.
"What happened?"
"'What happened'? You know what happened." She glared at the television.
"You saw the Twinkie commercial too, huh?"
"That is not what I meant, although the Twinkie thing was pretty creepy."
"Yeah, with the dancing and the--"
"Alec!"
"Sorry." They were both silent for a moment before he figured out. "Oh! That... Thing."
She looked at him finally. "Grow up. We slept together."
"So?" She glared again. "It's called casual sex, Max," he pointed out. Her eyebrows went up slightly, in an, "oh, is that so?" way. "Or are you just upset that except for that night, you haven't gotten some in two years because you and Logan are lame?"
"We're not like that," Max muttered under her breath.
"Which is why you two were making out after that Gossamer thing?"
"We didn't 'make out'."
"Because you're lame." Max looked away and didn't say anything. "Okay, so basically, you and Logan are both in denial and you're 'not like that' with him because you feel guilty about sleeping with me?"