Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. I asked my mom to give them to me for Christmas and do you know what she
said? No. Doesn't that suck?
A/N: OKAY, I ADMIT IT. I HAVE TAKEN A SLIGHTLY AU-ish TURN HERE. I didn't plan on it, it just happened. I am sorry to those I seem to have lost. Here is my attempt at getting you back.
A/N 2: NO animals, lamps, or cans of green peas were harmed during the writing of this chapter. Oh, no people were maimed either. Too terribly.
Summer Siren
Alec hit the hard-wood floor with a slam that could rank at least a three on the Richter Scale. "It's wake up time!" Satan bellowed, in the form of an exultant Max.
Alec rolled over with a heavy grunt. Sluggishly detangling his limbs from the musty sheets that had followed him in the pratfall, he wiped the sleep from his eyes. After rolling to an upright position, he placed a rather burdensome one-eyed glare on the offender. Max - not in the least intimidated by the half-dressed and half-awake Alec - smiled brightly in response. She grabbed his arm and tugged on it like an impatient three year old. "Come on! Come on! The day's awastin'! We need to get on the road." she whined. Alec's only reply seemed to be a few choice - and heavily slurred - words probably judged improper in mixed company.
When he made the mistake to glance longingly back at his pillow, Max was more than willing to deliver one last blow to make sure he didn't get in another catnap as soon as she left the room. She scampered out of the area even as Alec made a lunge for her. Never one to be intimidated out of some much deserved sleep, Alec crawled back into bed and threw the pillow over his head. Somewhere between zero and the full forty winks Alec felt a sharp pang in his butt. On closer inspection - which required removing the pillow from his face, much to Alec's aggravation - he saw it was a shoe. She threw a shoe at him. A high-heeled shoe. What nerve. Flinging the offending shoe off of the bed, Alec buried his face in the pillow one last time and let out a rather unmanly scream of frustration. Finally giving up on any form of sleep, deep or otherwise, Alec got up and made his bed. He needed a shower, a cup of strong coffee, and a gun. With a silencer, thank you very much.
Making his way to the bathroom, Alec gratefully stole the cup of coffee warming Max's hands. "Thanks," he mumbled, hurrying a bit more now.
"Hey, that's mine," Max whined, not actually making any move to retrieve her prize. She did manage to smack him one last time though, before he could march too far away. Alec grunted almost inaudibly, "With bedside manner like that no wonder you're still a virgin."
"What?"
"I said, 'The way my head hit the floor I am gonna need a surgeon!'" The slam of the bathroom door punctuated the end of the conversation, followed by the sound of a hot shower running.
Max, completely unperturbed, grabbed another cup of stale, but hot, coffee. "Pansy," she cheerfully mumbled under her breath.
*****
Two more cups of coffee, another small bickering fest, and thirty minutes later, Alec and Max rolled up to Foggle Towers on their two Ninjas. They wasted no time making the trek to Logan's penthouse. The overwhelming need to get out of Seattle and on the road weighed down both of the transgenics.
"It's a pretty simple job," Logan said. "It's just better to have two people there..."
"...to have someone to watch the other guy's back," Alec finished, signaling for Logan to keep moving with his whole spiel. Logan ignored the X5's insolence quite admirably while supplying the final instructions, fake sector passes, and of course, guns. Off of Max's blatant refusal to be packing anything with bullets, Alec rolled his eyes and took both the guns and stuffed them with Manticore precision into his already overflowing backpack.
He eyed his handiwork appreciatively. "I told ya we could fit everything in there doll," he said, smiling at Logan as if there was some sort of male secret to share between them. "Max said we should take duffle bags, but in my opinion, backpacks just settle so much better on a bike. She didn't believe me when I said everything would fit just fine. It's the way a man packs. In fact," he continued, cramming his fist into a bulging side pocket. "I could probably fit something else in here," he shot Logan a smile that could charm any cobra. "A spare car perhaps?" The humor was lost on the older man, being of a whole different genus of snake than the cobra. Rolling his eyes, Logan tossed some spare AA batteries to Alec.
Sparse farewells passed between the males, but Logan spent more time bidding adieu to Max. Alec used this opportunity to catch the breakfast he had missed earlier. Standing with his head in the refrigerator, Alec tried to block out what had to be an "intimate" conversation. Alec scoffed at the thought, doing his best not to notice the green pallor covering his face in the reflection of the refrigerator door. It had to have been the lights playing with the lime Jell-O.
Happily munching on a yellow apple and tired of being banished to the kitchen counter - at least that is what he told himself - Alec interrupted the moon-struck lovers by walking into the room. He shot a couple looks between the two. Logan looked pissed at the intrusion, while Max just seemed to share her husband's urgency to get on the road and out of Seattle. And hopefully away from Logan, not that it really mattered to Alec one way or another.
"Bye," Max said quickly.
"Bye," Logan echoed. He said something else also, but Max seemed to be more interested in watching Alec choke on his apple as opposed to the final goodbye. She'd be back in about 72 hours, for crying out loud.
"Just think, if all goes well..." Max said, effectively mustering up some enthusiasm.
"...we can touch again," Logan finished.
"Now if it wasn't for the dramatically necessary three weeks for the serum to purge her system of the virus meant to kill you, right when she got back you could as Josh so lovingly puts it, 'Get busy.'" he said, using air quotes. Max looked lost between incensed and wounded by the terse remark while Logan was the embodiment of "If Looks Could Kill." Only, "If Looks Could Kill" didn't seem quite strong enough. How about "If Looks Could Rid The Entire Planet Of Even The Slightest Memory Of Your Existence?" Much more descriptive, and in this case much more accurate. Even Alec had to take a slight gulp at the malicious venom that seemed so accustomed to Logan's ice-blue eyes these days - when Alec was involved. But it seemed even St. Logan had had enough. Today, the venom flashed like a squall over troubled waters.
"And now that I have killed the 'Hallmark moment'," Alec drifted off, for once ready to make himself scarce. With an apologetic look in Logan's direction, Max promptly followed his lead. She had made it out of the door when Logan called out her name. Max whirled around, her now shoulder-length hair flowing and billowing like an old-fashioned Pantene Pro-V commercial. Both Logan a good twenty feet away, and Alec, lazily propped against outside of the doorway and mere inches away, sucked in a lungful of air.
"Uh, be careful," Logan managed. Max smiled in response, the kind of smile that could inspire a wistful poet to write sonnets. The kind of smile that could inspire a soldier to get through another night with a gun under his pillow.
Alec closed the door behind himself and Max, but not before his eyes locked with Logan's. Animosities might always be rooted in their non-existent friendship, but for once, both of their thoughts traveled on the same brainwave. There was something special about their Max, caught between the world of ordinaries and transhumans, "Somebody's Angel" and Soldier Messiah. There was something about their Max that was truly magnificent.
Being drop-dead gorgeous didn't hurt either.
*****
The first day of travel was rather uneventful. Ride. Get gas. Ride. Get lunch. Ignore the spouse. Ride. Ride. And just for a change of pace, ride some more.
The doctor Logan had managed to track down with the cure had hid himself pretty nicely towards the heart of Canada. Dr. Bell, as it turns out, was actually a big Eyes Only fan. He himself despised Manticore and everything it stood for. Dr. Bell had come across the military base when he was still fresh-faced and straight out of college. The idea of the working with the latest technology had to offer and gene-splicing together was all too tempting. When Manticore dropped a line on him, Dr. Bell was in - hook, line, and sinker. Then he was at the base and already acclimated with Manticore's true evil genius. By that time he had to stay and work, or find his corpse packed rather nicely into a duffel bag. Needless to say, when the great E.O. came a callin', he was ready and willing to help in anyway possible. With the exception of coming to Seattle. Manticore may be out of the picture, but several other "old friends" would be more than happy to smear blood-red paint across Dr. Bell's canvas. He seemed like a nice enough man - according to Logan anyway - but one could never be two sure, hence Alec's accompaniment.
It wasn't until they pulled up in front of a hotel that Alec and Max truly acknowledged each other's presence over the last several hours. Killing the bikes' engines, they offered each other a somewhat guilty half-smile, trying to mask the traitorous thoughts bouncing around in their already confused skulls. The parking lot seemed pretty full, which was never a good thing. They appraised the building silently for a few moments, lazily draped on the Ninjas, neither wanting to be the first to move. Go figure. Two Manticore born and bred soldiers unwilling to just go inside and get a room. Of course, the thought of getting a room wasn't a problem, both of their backsides could attest to that. No, a quick shower, sprawling on a bed, and catching some sleep sounded rather nice. The problem was them both being sprawled on the same bed, which judging by the full parking lot, seemed to be more than likely.
"Screw it," Alec mumbled under his breath. Stepping off the Ninja with feline grace, he leaned over to grab his backpack, unaware of Max's evaluation until he swirled around, and her eyes diverted swiftly in the opposite direction. She even had her face masked to actually seem like the object of her attention was quite fascinating. But she was trying way too hard. She seemed almost hypnotized by it, as if Alec himself wasn't worth a nanosecond of her attention.
Using her obvious concentration to ignore Alec's presence to his advantage, he silently strode over to her side. He stood right behind her right shoulder, doing his best to ignore the crook of her neck and the way the breeze made Max's hair sweep gently back and forth across her barcode. He almost touched her barcode to snap her out of the reverie, but pulled his fingers back at the last second. She didn't even now he was there, fully entranced by her mystery object - or was it her thoughts?
Two eyes lit up wickedly. Tongue in cheek and a devilish half-grin spreading across his face, Alec leaned over to Max's ear. Unable to resist the temptation Alec gently touched his lips to her ear, barely able to hold back a quick nibble. Instead, he whispered, "Hey Max." She shot up like a rocket. Alec swerved his head away smoothly to avoid cracking his face with the back of her skull, only to replant his lips right by her ear again. "Do you think you could take you attention away from the flower long enough to check-in? I'll pick it for you if you've grown so attached within the last twenty seconds."
Max - no longer paralyzed by the electrical charge of two warm lips against the lobe of her ear - strode like a colonel on mission into the lounge of the hotel, forgetting her own bag in the process. Alec glanced down to the bag and with a shrug, lugged them both inside.
"This is going to be a fun night," Alec whispered ironically.
Lightening flashed across the sky like Fate's fingers, bestowing a bad omen.
*****
"We're actually lucky if you think about it," Alec ventured from his folding chair at the other end of the room. Max glared at him. "Seriously," he said, raising his hands in a defensive surrender. "I mean, we have to share the room, true. But in all reality, would you really rather be out in the rain, looking for another hotel? It's raining ordinaries and familiars out there."
Max sat up in the middle of the bed. "'Raining ordinaries and familiars?'" she asked incredulously.
"Yeah. I've decided I didn't like 'cats and dogs'. It's old. And I don't like the division between cat DNA and dog DNA. It's separating the transgenics with feline background and dog background. So why not separate us from something we really ARE segregated from, hence 'ordinaries and familiars,'" Alec said matter-of-factly. Max thought about the twisted little logic which, in the end, did make some semblance of sense. She rolled back onto her stomach looking in the corner, unaware of Alec's surreptitiously admiring eyes. Suddenly, she shot back up again. "Hold the press," she said.
"What?"
Max rolled over dramatically to face him. "Come here," she commanded. Without another word of explanation she turned away from him again, pointing at something. Alec, curious, came over to her side. "What's that?" she inquired, pointing to a coin slot.
"I don't know."
Contemplative silence.
"Gotta quarter?" Max asked. Alec fished through his pockets and found one. Pushing it in the coin slot, the bed began to shake. Max chortled like an innocent little girl just discovering the joys of swimming. She clumsily rolled towards the center of the bed, being bounced around like a kernel in a popcorn machine. Her joyous laughter descended upon Alec in ferocious tidal waves, over and over again. They were merciless, beating this memory of a laughing Max, a happy Max, into his brain. "It's practically got hydraulic pumps!" she squealed.
Alec crouched next to the bed, his chin resting on his knuckles, smiling but never letting it reach his eyes. It was bittersweet to be her only witness of the natural high, and knowing he wasn't the cause of it. This was all from the relief of finally getting rid of the virus. But at the same time, the moment seemed almost intimate, and Alec had so few intimate moments with anyone, especially Max, that he selfishly didn't want to share it with anyone. Especially Logan. He quickly banished the thought.
"Hey, it's like in Moulin Rouge with the 'Green Fairy'," she said. Then she started to sing, albeit poorly, due to the shaking bed and her snickers interrupting every note. Or maybe that was why it sounded purer. "The hills are alive, with the sound of music," she crooned over and over again. This time Alec did laugh.
Eventually the vibrating stopped though, leaving a breathless and closed-eyed Max gasping for air and a voyeuristic Alec trying to turn his no longer innocent thoughts back on track. Oblivious to her husband's inner turmoil, she bounced off the bed towards the bathroom, saying she was going to take a shower.
*****
Max strolled out of the bathroom twenty minutes later and laid down on the bed. Alec had moved back to his chair, making the space between them feel like a 50 foot chasm, when in all reality it was only a few feet. She furtively kept glancing over in his general direction, trying to convince herself she was instinctively checking all possible escape routes, one of the few things that being on the lamb seemed to sharpen instead of dulling. Alec seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, perusing through the standard hotel Bible. It seems there was another thing the Pulse couldn't change, even heathens need religion. So after committing various acts of adultery with a low-life prostitute, the guilty husband could purge his soul by lightly skimming the "Good Book".
Puh-leeze.
"Whatcha reading?" Max asked rolling on to her stomach, letting her feet dangle in the air. Alec, previously in some sort of deep concentration, startled out of his meditations with a guilty snap shut of the Bible. An even guiltier ruddiness spread across his cheeks. "Oh, now I have to know," Max said slyly.
Alec glanced Max's way, a mixture of curiosity and panic, while trying to toss the Bible easily towards his temporary roommate. "Turn to page 361, read chapter 7 and explain it to me." Max did so, a wily smirk wriggling across her eyes as she read. "Well, Alec, I didn't realize I had to explain the birds and the bees to you..." she began in mock-seriousness.
"I know that much," Alec interrupted agitatedly. "What I want to know is why the Bible, of all places, is bringing up sex. 'Your graceful legs are like jewels...your navel is a rounded goblet...your breasts are like two fawns...May your breasts be like the clusters of the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples, and your mouth like the best wine.' Why is that in the Bible? The message throughout the entire Bible is 'No Sex Until Marriage and Pure Monogamy Afterwards' and suddenly they throw in this? It's sounds hypocritical to me."
Max thought about his response to the chapter, and reread it again, skimming some other chapters as well. "Maybe that is why they have the passage," she reasoned. Off of Alec's bemused stare, she tried to explain her own theory. "Maybe this is to show what Christians are waiting for. Listen here in chapter four, 'You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.' This is personal, something special that his bride had never been with another man. And later, the bride warns the other girls 'not to awaken love until the time is right.' So maybe it's saying that it is better to wait until marriage for sex, so you get the 'fullness' of married life or whatever." She thought for a moment. "Actually, before the pulse a few colleges made a study out of the subject on who exactly has a better sex life, and it came out that monogamous wives whose only partner had ever been there husbands got the best lovin'."
Alec seemed very interested now. Leaning forward in his chair, his suddenly intense perusal made her nervous. Max looked away, swallowing thickly.
"What about heat cycles? How did you stay a virgin through those?"
Max's eyes practically fell off of her face in shock at the blunt question. "My first time, I didn't realize what was happening and I almost went to bed with some guy I met on the street corner in Frisco. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you see it, good old Deck decided just at that moment to locate me. I spent the rest of my cycle hiding in the trees outside the city. I went to a library soon afterwards to figure out what had gone wrong, discovered what "heat cycles" were and I have avoided the male species when I felt the first symptoms ever since."
"Even in Seattle?"
"I got lazy then, too comfortable. I met this guy Darren at a bar once, curious what dating was all about..."
"...and he broke your heart," Alec finished.
"Hardly," Max laughed. "I found him once with this girl name Justine, and in all truthfulness, I was relieved. Darren was more lust. He called me a "human fog bank" or something, but mostly I think he was pissed because I wasn't as easy a lay as I looked. There was one time though..."
"Rafer?"
Max looked stunned at his intuition. "How'd...?"
"Gut instinct," Alec casually said, scratching the back of his hand. He shrugged off the memory of Max's face smiling up into the pizza delivery guy's, how he had suddenly lost his appetite that day.
"Well, nothing happened. Not that it wasn't close. I was at the end of my cycle and I needed to get out. I had almost jumped Normal that day, for crying out loud." Alec laughed and Max smiled too. Continuing, she said, "Then I ran into Rafer and I let him take me to his place." Alec was extremely grateful at her tact in leaving out the details. "Thankfully, O.C. followed me and almost knocked me unconscious." She explained Cindy's secret recipe for temporarily curing "The Itch".
Another pregnant contemplative silence followed.
"You don't look like an easy lay to me, Max," Alec said. He grimaced. "In fact, I seem to remember a size ten boot in my gut the first - and last time - I approached you." His eyes twinkled mischievously, answered by Max's light laughter, which sent a small thrill down his spine.
"Well I'm sorry if 'we're supposed to copulate every night until you get pregnant' isn't the special one-liner to get me in bed," mimicking his terminology tone for tone.
"What is your special one-liner, Max?" Alec had to force the mischief into his pitch, suddenly weighed down by real curiosity, real want. "Maybe you prefer Logan's style. Is he a poet? Do his bottles of wine and high-class Spaghetti-O's fit your taste?" He paused, suddenly unsure. "Do you think sex is something to wait for?"
Max suddenly grew silent, abruptly aware of the underlying seriousness in Alec's sarcastic manner; the terse way he held his body in the chair, trying to appear relaxed.
"Do you feel like the Bible says, Max?" he asked softly, dead serious. "Do you think that sex is some precious flower or whatever, to be saved for one person and one person only?" Amazingly enough, his tone wasn't condemning or reproachful. He looked as if he was really fascinated by the thought of that being her philosophy.
Max, unable to bear the weight of Alec's probing gaze, stood up and began pacing the room to work out her apprehension. This was heading into dangerous territory. She had never discussed her sexual morals with O.C., her confidant, much less some Manticore womanizer like Alec. In all honesty, Max didn't know why she never got around to 'getting laid'. She just didn't. It was an unnecessary hassle, she'd seen too many roommates over too many years get heartbroken because her "generous lover" felt like spreading his brimming benevolence - among other things - around the neighborhood. Then there was the whole factor that even casual sex seemed to invite a "closeness" Max couldn't afford, having a secret government bureau on her tail and all.
Not only that, but Max considered her body probably one of the only things about herself she truly owned. Oh sure, Manticore engineered her body down to the rate at which her toenails grew, but that was where the "owning" stopped. With the exception of her "cycles" a few times a year - thank whatever deity Manticore had fixed those during her last stay. Even after the escape, when Max believed she truly began living - no longer existing -, Manticore owned her soul for a while, then her heart, and finally it released it's grasp on her mind. But after the escape, Max's body was hers and hers alone, so she naturally felt a little protective.
Halting her march and her thoughts, Max stopped in front of the window, taking in the thundering tempest raging outside. And the one building inside the room. Like the night of Joshua's party, the walls began to gradually pull in towards the center of the room, where Alec was now standing, drawn by some invisible - but fervent - magnet. His eyes were boring into her from behind, making her feel an unwelcome vulnerability.
Alec watched her pace around the room with something akin to anticipation, hopefulness. In and of itself, the feelings were absurd. It was none of his business whether Max was chaste or the whore of Babylon. She wasn't his wife...well, not really. She didn't promise to honor, cherish, hold him in sickness and in health, until death do they part. No, she promised to stick around for 18 months and then ride off into the sunset with her "lover boy". Logan. Alec's eyes darkened over with protectiveness - or envy, at this point they seemed pretty synonymous - at the thought of Logan and Max...he couldn't even finish the thought, but whether he was more disgusted by the imagery or his own reaction was better left unsaid.
Feeling his originally innocent question stirring up unwanted feelings, Alec tried to get Max to talk again. He needed something to distract him. Before he lost himself to male stupidity, he changed the course of the subject. "Of course, if I were you, I wouldn't sleep with Logan," he quipped snidely, almost regretting the comment. Almost. Although Alec saw the angry slam of cement walls close around her eyes, if he had to sit there and think about some certain idealistic, posh, and self-ordained Messiah of lost turtles taking Max to his bed, he'd hurl. Or even worse, he might do something stupid, or say something stupid.
Max and Logan. Together. Intimately. The thought was more than nauseating.
It was painful. On several levels.
Unfortunately, the only one Alec would allow himself to admit to was male pride.
Max turned around on one heel very slowly. Unable to see the shock, anger, and most of all, hurt, mingling on her face, Alec slid his leather jacket off of the back of the chair. "The storm's lighting up, I am going to go grab some grub," he said, his back to Max. "You want anything in particular, Chinese, piz...Ooof!" For the second time that day, Alec hit the ground with an colossal thud, compliments of his wife. Only this time, Max wasn't feeling playful. She felt angry, livid, maybe even the littlest bit hurt; but anything far from playful.
Pulling his face out of the grubby shag carpet, Alec rolled to his back, looking up at Max. Hands on her hips, nostrils flaring, eyes flaming, she did not look like a happy camper. Playing possum seemed to be Alec's only hope for survival. But would he do it? Not a chance. They both had some serious issues to clear up here, before the static electricity sparked and caused a forest fire.
Rising to his feet slowly - as to not startle his predator - he asked carefully, "What was that for?"
Max went from angry to stunned and back. Wait, no...she was enraged now. "How...I...what...you...?" she sputtered, her hands flapping through the air like a hen trying to fly. Palms in the air, Alec began to back away slowly, but she kept stalking him until he had his back against the wall, literally. "Where do you get off?!?"
Alec mulled the question over. "Well, I thought I'd use the exit ramp, but if you've got a better idea..." he was cut off by a fist pounding his shoulder. Balling the lapels of his leather jacket inside her smaller fists, she pulled him a couple inches towards herself, just to slam him back against the groaning wall again. "I can't believe you! Who are you to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with? Nobody!" With each statement, she heaved him against the wall, bits of plaster drifting about them like winter's first snow. "Don't treat me like I am wrong just because I know someone's name, phone number, address, and favorite color before I sleep with him! I am tired of being little virgin Max! Just because I've never had sex doesn't give Minette the right to harass me all the time, or you to tell me..." With one last chuck, she strode away from him, afraid of her own anger.
Alec, bouncing off the wall with characteristic ease, felt his own temper rising in proportion with hers. After lightly brushing plaster bits off of his broad shoulders, he followed her to the window. Standing mere inches behind Max, he tried to push himself away from her, but found that he couldn't. They stood like that for minutes, hours, days on end. Her watching the storm. Him watching her.
When Alec could finally see straight, the colors no longer obscured, he lightly grasped her shoulders. Max tensed in reaction - obviously prepared for a more violent handling -, which tormented Alec all the more. He noted her clenched eyes and fists when she finally faced him. "Max, look at me," he pleaded softly. His strong hands slid down to cup her elbows, pushing her gently against the wall. It was almost comforting, the gentle pressure Max felt holding her up, suspending her in time. Lost in her own thoughts she strove to use the cold glass of the rain pelted window against her back and shoulders as her last link to reality. How much she would rather be outside, finding solace and asylum in the icy downpour, as opposed to being braced by this man. Time to face the music. Or fire. Slowly she opened her eyes, not looking at his face, but at their feet.
"Max, tell me the truth. Do you love Logan, or was it just lust? During that 12 hour cure what did you feel when he touched you, kissed you? The pent up longing and love between you should have rocked your senses." Unknowingly, he let memories of the release of his own "pent up longing" squeeze her arms a little tighter, drawing her attention to his chest. "Even at that, it was five years ago. If there was no virus now, and you went home, would you give what you have obviously been saving for someone special? Do you think he loves you? Don't you think you deserve better?" By a sheer force of will power and telepathy, her eyes locked with his. Confused and lost but determined, Max couldn't give up on Logan.
Not just yet.
"Who do I deserve Alec?" she asked softly. "You?" She instantly regretted the remark, and reached for him. But Alec had stepped back, slightly hunched and defeated, as if she had just kicked him in the stomach. She watched his face change from offended to agonized, agonized to self-derisive, and finally from self-derisive to impassive and perfectly pokerfaced. Alec smiled one of his smiles that never reached his eyes - which Max had come to learn meant he had been stung unusually deep - and he said, "No Max, you don't deserve me. Well actually, no one deserves you."
*****
Minette was sitting at Crash, waiting for her favorite patron. Alec left Seattle with Max - much to her ire - but when he came back, he seemed to be in a severe state of shell-shock. The walking dead in question came through the door, and the brunette's eyes lit up with almost sadistic glee. He meandered to the bar, ordering his usual scotch, gulping it down without a second thought, immediately signaling for another. Alec had three shots in a freefall towards his stomach by the time Minette magically appeared at his side. Not even glancing her way, he asked, "What can I do for you tonight?"
"Hmm. I can think of plenty of responses to that," she quipped. Alec swiveled in his chair. Even completely heartbroken and doing his best to drown the sad fact in alcohol, he still was gorgeous. She sat back in her own chair, admiring him and giving him ample opportunity to reciprocate. And for once, he did. He sat back himself, taking in her smooth legs, impossibly full curves, and promising eyes. Fine.
Tonight he'd bite.
Placing down his fees for the scotch, he grabbed her graceful hand in his chiseled one. He led them haphazardly through the speculative crowd, unaware of Cindy's vigilant eyes. Minette noticed though, and threw a triumphant look over her shoulder, daring O.C. to separate the two. O.C. just stared at the couple with something akin to pity.
Once free from Crash's smoky atmosphere and attentive witnesses, Alec pulled Minette behind a stack of crates and released all of his pent up passion and vehemence in a merciless attack on her willing lips. His lips drove her crazy with desire. His skilled hands flamed her lust. "Wait," she breathlessly said, pulling back slightly.
Alec didn't want to wait, didn't want to think. "Your place," he gruffly said. Minette gave him a sultry smile, promising him the pleasures of the night to come. "Yeah," she agreed, kissing him quickly before she leading him to her car.
Minette turned on the ignition with a proud flick of her wrist, looking over to her passenger, who sent her a slightly dubious, but resolute grin of his own.
Max could simper over her humanoid Logan all that she wanted. For tonight at least, Minette had caught the real prize.
Hi! I love you guys, really. Hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving. I'll make sure I have the next chapter up by....Valentine's at the least. ;)
said? No. Doesn't that suck?
A/N: OKAY, I ADMIT IT. I HAVE TAKEN A SLIGHTLY AU-ish TURN HERE. I didn't plan on it, it just happened. I am sorry to those I seem to have lost. Here is my attempt at getting you back.
A/N 2: NO animals, lamps, or cans of green peas were harmed during the writing of this chapter. Oh, no people were maimed either. Too terribly.
Summer Siren
Alec hit the hard-wood floor with a slam that could rank at least a three on the Richter Scale. "It's wake up time!" Satan bellowed, in the form of an exultant Max.
Alec rolled over with a heavy grunt. Sluggishly detangling his limbs from the musty sheets that had followed him in the pratfall, he wiped the sleep from his eyes. After rolling to an upright position, he placed a rather burdensome one-eyed glare on the offender. Max - not in the least intimidated by the half-dressed and half-awake Alec - smiled brightly in response. She grabbed his arm and tugged on it like an impatient three year old. "Come on! Come on! The day's awastin'! We need to get on the road." she whined. Alec's only reply seemed to be a few choice - and heavily slurred - words probably judged improper in mixed company.
When he made the mistake to glance longingly back at his pillow, Max was more than willing to deliver one last blow to make sure he didn't get in another catnap as soon as she left the room. She scampered out of the area even as Alec made a lunge for her. Never one to be intimidated out of some much deserved sleep, Alec crawled back into bed and threw the pillow over his head. Somewhere between zero and the full forty winks Alec felt a sharp pang in his butt. On closer inspection - which required removing the pillow from his face, much to Alec's aggravation - he saw it was a shoe. She threw a shoe at him. A high-heeled shoe. What nerve. Flinging the offending shoe off of the bed, Alec buried his face in the pillow one last time and let out a rather unmanly scream of frustration. Finally giving up on any form of sleep, deep or otherwise, Alec got up and made his bed. He needed a shower, a cup of strong coffee, and a gun. With a silencer, thank you very much.
Making his way to the bathroom, Alec gratefully stole the cup of coffee warming Max's hands. "Thanks," he mumbled, hurrying a bit more now.
"Hey, that's mine," Max whined, not actually making any move to retrieve her prize. She did manage to smack him one last time though, before he could march too far away. Alec grunted almost inaudibly, "With bedside manner like that no wonder you're still a virgin."
"What?"
"I said, 'The way my head hit the floor I am gonna need a surgeon!'" The slam of the bathroom door punctuated the end of the conversation, followed by the sound of a hot shower running.
Max, completely unperturbed, grabbed another cup of stale, but hot, coffee. "Pansy," she cheerfully mumbled under her breath.
*****
Two more cups of coffee, another small bickering fest, and thirty minutes later, Alec and Max rolled up to Foggle Towers on their two Ninjas. They wasted no time making the trek to Logan's penthouse. The overwhelming need to get out of Seattle and on the road weighed down both of the transgenics.
"It's a pretty simple job," Logan said. "It's just better to have two people there..."
"...to have someone to watch the other guy's back," Alec finished, signaling for Logan to keep moving with his whole spiel. Logan ignored the X5's insolence quite admirably while supplying the final instructions, fake sector passes, and of course, guns. Off of Max's blatant refusal to be packing anything with bullets, Alec rolled his eyes and took both the guns and stuffed them with Manticore precision into his already overflowing backpack.
He eyed his handiwork appreciatively. "I told ya we could fit everything in there doll," he said, smiling at Logan as if there was some sort of male secret to share between them. "Max said we should take duffle bags, but in my opinion, backpacks just settle so much better on a bike. She didn't believe me when I said everything would fit just fine. It's the way a man packs. In fact," he continued, cramming his fist into a bulging side pocket. "I could probably fit something else in here," he shot Logan a smile that could charm any cobra. "A spare car perhaps?" The humor was lost on the older man, being of a whole different genus of snake than the cobra. Rolling his eyes, Logan tossed some spare AA batteries to Alec.
Sparse farewells passed between the males, but Logan spent more time bidding adieu to Max. Alec used this opportunity to catch the breakfast he had missed earlier. Standing with his head in the refrigerator, Alec tried to block out what had to be an "intimate" conversation. Alec scoffed at the thought, doing his best not to notice the green pallor covering his face in the reflection of the refrigerator door. It had to have been the lights playing with the lime Jell-O.
Happily munching on a yellow apple and tired of being banished to the kitchen counter - at least that is what he told himself - Alec interrupted the moon-struck lovers by walking into the room. He shot a couple looks between the two. Logan looked pissed at the intrusion, while Max just seemed to share her husband's urgency to get on the road and out of Seattle. And hopefully away from Logan, not that it really mattered to Alec one way or another.
"Bye," Max said quickly.
"Bye," Logan echoed. He said something else also, but Max seemed to be more interested in watching Alec choke on his apple as opposed to the final goodbye. She'd be back in about 72 hours, for crying out loud.
"Just think, if all goes well..." Max said, effectively mustering up some enthusiasm.
"...we can touch again," Logan finished.
"Now if it wasn't for the dramatically necessary three weeks for the serum to purge her system of the virus meant to kill you, right when she got back you could as Josh so lovingly puts it, 'Get busy.'" he said, using air quotes. Max looked lost between incensed and wounded by the terse remark while Logan was the embodiment of "If Looks Could Kill." Only, "If Looks Could Kill" didn't seem quite strong enough. How about "If Looks Could Rid The Entire Planet Of Even The Slightest Memory Of Your Existence?" Much more descriptive, and in this case much more accurate. Even Alec had to take a slight gulp at the malicious venom that seemed so accustomed to Logan's ice-blue eyes these days - when Alec was involved. But it seemed even St. Logan had had enough. Today, the venom flashed like a squall over troubled waters.
"And now that I have killed the 'Hallmark moment'," Alec drifted off, for once ready to make himself scarce. With an apologetic look in Logan's direction, Max promptly followed his lead. She had made it out of the door when Logan called out her name. Max whirled around, her now shoulder-length hair flowing and billowing like an old-fashioned Pantene Pro-V commercial. Both Logan a good twenty feet away, and Alec, lazily propped against outside of the doorway and mere inches away, sucked in a lungful of air.
"Uh, be careful," Logan managed. Max smiled in response, the kind of smile that could inspire a wistful poet to write sonnets. The kind of smile that could inspire a soldier to get through another night with a gun under his pillow.
Alec closed the door behind himself and Max, but not before his eyes locked with Logan's. Animosities might always be rooted in their non-existent friendship, but for once, both of their thoughts traveled on the same brainwave. There was something special about their Max, caught between the world of ordinaries and transhumans, "Somebody's Angel" and Soldier Messiah. There was something about their Max that was truly magnificent.
Being drop-dead gorgeous didn't hurt either.
*****
The first day of travel was rather uneventful. Ride. Get gas. Ride. Get lunch. Ignore the spouse. Ride. Ride. And just for a change of pace, ride some more.
The doctor Logan had managed to track down with the cure had hid himself pretty nicely towards the heart of Canada. Dr. Bell, as it turns out, was actually a big Eyes Only fan. He himself despised Manticore and everything it stood for. Dr. Bell had come across the military base when he was still fresh-faced and straight out of college. The idea of the working with the latest technology had to offer and gene-splicing together was all too tempting. When Manticore dropped a line on him, Dr. Bell was in - hook, line, and sinker. Then he was at the base and already acclimated with Manticore's true evil genius. By that time he had to stay and work, or find his corpse packed rather nicely into a duffel bag. Needless to say, when the great E.O. came a callin', he was ready and willing to help in anyway possible. With the exception of coming to Seattle. Manticore may be out of the picture, but several other "old friends" would be more than happy to smear blood-red paint across Dr. Bell's canvas. He seemed like a nice enough man - according to Logan anyway - but one could never be two sure, hence Alec's accompaniment.
It wasn't until they pulled up in front of a hotel that Alec and Max truly acknowledged each other's presence over the last several hours. Killing the bikes' engines, they offered each other a somewhat guilty half-smile, trying to mask the traitorous thoughts bouncing around in their already confused skulls. The parking lot seemed pretty full, which was never a good thing. They appraised the building silently for a few moments, lazily draped on the Ninjas, neither wanting to be the first to move. Go figure. Two Manticore born and bred soldiers unwilling to just go inside and get a room. Of course, the thought of getting a room wasn't a problem, both of their backsides could attest to that. No, a quick shower, sprawling on a bed, and catching some sleep sounded rather nice. The problem was them both being sprawled on the same bed, which judging by the full parking lot, seemed to be more than likely.
"Screw it," Alec mumbled under his breath. Stepping off the Ninja with feline grace, he leaned over to grab his backpack, unaware of Max's evaluation until he swirled around, and her eyes diverted swiftly in the opposite direction. She even had her face masked to actually seem like the object of her attention was quite fascinating. But she was trying way too hard. She seemed almost hypnotized by it, as if Alec himself wasn't worth a nanosecond of her attention.
Using her obvious concentration to ignore Alec's presence to his advantage, he silently strode over to her side. He stood right behind her right shoulder, doing his best to ignore the crook of her neck and the way the breeze made Max's hair sweep gently back and forth across her barcode. He almost touched her barcode to snap her out of the reverie, but pulled his fingers back at the last second. She didn't even now he was there, fully entranced by her mystery object - or was it her thoughts?
Two eyes lit up wickedly. Tongue in cheek and a devilish half-grin spreading across his face, Alec leaned over to Max's ear. Unable to resist the temptation Alec gently touched his lips to her ear, barely able to hold back a quick nibble. Instead, he whispered, "Hey Max." She shot up like a rocket. Alec swerved his head away smoothly to avoid cracking his face with the back of her skull, only to replant his lips right by her ear again. "Do you think you could take you attention away from the flower long enough to check-in? I'll pick it for you if you've grown so attached within the last twenty seconds."
Max - no longer paralyzed by the electrical charge of two warm lips against the lobe of her ear - strode like a colonel on mission into the lounge of the hotel, forgetting her own bag in the process. Alec glanced down to the bag and with a shrug, lugged them both inside.
"This is going to be a fun night," Alec whispered ironically.
Lightening flashed across the sky like Fate's fingers, bestowing a bad omen.
*****
"We're actually lucky if you think about it," Alec ventured from his folding chair at the other end of the room. Max glared at him. "Seriously," he said, raising his hands in a defensive surrender. "I mean, we have to share the room, true. But in all reality, would you really rather be out in the rain, looking for another hotel? It's raining ordinaries and familiars out there."
Max sat up in the middle of the bed. "'Raining ordinaries and familiars?'" she asked incredulously.
"Yeah. I've decided I didn't like 'cats and dogs'. It's old. And I don't like the division between cat DNA and dog DNA. It's separating the transgenics with feline background and dog background. So why not separate us from something we really ARE segregated from, hence 'ordinaries and familiars,'" Alec said matter-of-factly. Max thought about the twisted little logic which, in the end, did make some semblance of sense. She rolled back onto her stomach looking in the corner, unaware of Alec's surreptitiously admiring eyes. Suddenly, she shot back up again. "Hold the press," she said.
"What?"
Max rolled over dramatically to face him. "Come here," she commanded. Without another word of explanation she turned away from him again, pointing at something. Alec, curious, came over to her side. "What's that?" she inquired, pointing to a coin slot.
"I don't know."
Contemplative silence.
"Gotta quarter?" Max asked. Alec fished through his pockets and found one. Pushing it in the coin slot, the bed began to shake. Max chortled like an innocent little girl just discovering the joys of swimming. She clumsily rolled towards the center of the bed, being bounced around like a kernel in a popcorn machine. Her joyous laughter descended upon Alec in ferocious tidal waves, over and over again. They were merciless, beating this memory of a laughing Max, a happy Max, into his brain. "It's practically got hydraulic pumps!" she squealed.
Alec crouched next to the bed, his chin resting on his knuckles, smiling but never letting it reach his eyes. It was bittersweet to be her only witness of the natural high, and knowing he wasn't the cause of it. This was all from the relief of finally getting rid of the virus. But at the same time, the moment seemed almost intimate, and Alec had so few intimate moments with anyone, especially Max, that he selfishly didn't want to share it with anyone. Especially Logan. He quickly banished the thought.
"Hey, it's like in Moulin Rouge with the 'Green Fairy'," she said. Then she started to sing, albeit poorly, due to the shaking bed and her snickers interrupting every note. Or maybe that was why it sounded purer. "The hills are alive, with the sound of music," she crooned over and over again. This time Alec did laugh.
Eventually the vibrating stopped though, leaving a breathless and closed-eyed Max gasping for air and a voyeuristic Alec trying to turn his no longer innocent thoughts back on track. Oblivious to her husband's inner turmoil, she bounced off the bed towards the bathroom, saying she was going to take a shower.
*****
Max strolled out of the bathroom twenty minutes later and laid down on the bed. Alec had moved back to his chair, making the space between them feel like a 50 foot chasm, when in all reality it was only a few feet. She furtively kept glancing over in his general direction, trying to convince herself she was instinctively checking all possible escape routes, one of the few things that being on the lamb seemed to sharpen instead of dulling. Alec seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, perusing through the standard hotel Bible. It seems there was another thing the Pulse couldn't change, even heathens need religion. So after committing various acts of adultery with a low-life prostitute, the guilty husband could purge his soul by lightly skimming the "Good Book".
Puh-leeze.
"Whatcha reading?" Max asked rolling on to her stomach, letting her feet dangle in the air. Alec, previously in some sort of deep concentration, startled out of his meditations with a guilty snap shut of the Bible. An even guiltier ruddiness spread across his cheeks. "Oh, now I have to know," Max said slyly.
Alec glanced Max's way, a mixture of curiosity and panic, while trying to toss the Bible easily towards his temporary roommate. "Turn to page 361, read chapter 7 and explain it to me." Max did so, a wily smirk wriggling across her eyes as she read. "Well, Alec, I didn't realize I had to explain the birds and the bees to you..." she began in mock-seriousness.
"I know that much," Alec interrupted agitatedly. "What I want to know is why the Bible, of all places, is bringing up sex. 'Your graceful legs are like jewels...your navel is a rounded goblet...your breasts are like two fawns...May your breasts be like the clusters of the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples, and your mouth like the best wine.' Why is that in the Bible? The message throughout the entire Bible is 'No Sex Until Marriage and Pure Monogamy Afterwards' and suddenly they throw in this? It's sounds hypocritical to me."
Max thought about his response to the chapter, and reread it again, skimming some other chapters as well. "Maybe that is why they have the passage," she reasoned. Off of Alec's bemused stare, she tried to explain her own theory. "Maybe this is to show what Christians are waiting for. Listen here in chapter four, 'You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.' This is personal, something special that his bride had never been with another man. And later, the bride warns the other girls 'not to awaken love until the time is right.' So maybe it's saying that it is better to wait until marriage for sex, so you get the 'fullness' of married life or whatever." She thought for a moment. "Actually, before the pulse a few colleges made a study out of the subject on who exactly has a better sex life, and it came out that monogamous wives whose only partner had ever been there husbands got the best lovin'."
Alec seemed very interested now. Leaning forward in his chair, his suddenly intense perusal made her nervous. Max looked away, swallowing thickly.
"What about heat cycles? How did you stay a virgin through those?"
Max's eyes practically fell off of her face in shock at the blunt question. "My first time, I didn't realize what was happening and I almost went to bed with some guy I met on the street corner in Frisco. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you see it, good old Deck decided just at that moment to locate me. I spent the rest of my cycle hiding in the trees outside the city. I went to a library soon afterwards to figure out what had gone wrong, discovered what "heat cycles" were and I have avoided the male species when I felt the first symptoms ever since."
"Even in Seattle?"
"I got lazy then, too comfortable. I met this guy Darren at a bar once, curious what dating was all about..."
"...and he broke your heart," Alec finished.
"Hardly," Max laughed. "I found him once with this girl name Justine, and in all truthfulness, I was relieved. Darren was more lust. He called me a "human fog bank" or something, but mostly I think he was pissed because I wasn't as easy a lay as I looked. There was one time though..."
"Rafer?"
Max looked stunned at his intuition. "How'd...?"
"Gut instinct," Alec casually said, scratching the back of his hand. He shrugged off the memory of Max's face smiling up into the pizza delivery guy's, how he had suddenly lost his appetite that day.
"Well, nothing happened. Not that it wasn't close. I was at the end of my cycle and I needed to get out. I had almost jumped Normal that day, for crying out loud." Alec laughed and Max smiled too. Continuing, she said, "Then I ran into Rafer and I let him take me to his place." Alec was extremely grateful at her tact in leaving out the details. "Thankfully, O.C. followed me and almost knocked me unconscious." She explained Cindy's secret recipe for temporarily curing "The Itch".
Another pregnant contemplative silence followed.
"You don't look like an easy lay to me, Max," Alec said. He grimaced. "In fact, I seem to remember a size ten boot in my gut the first - and last time - I approached you." His eyes twinkled mischievously, answered by Max's light laughter, which sent a small thrill down his spine.
"Well I'm sorry if 'we're supposed to copulate every night until you get pregnant' isn't the special one-liner to get me in bed," mimicking his terminology tone for tone.
"What is your special one-liner, Max?" Alec had to force the mischief into his pitch, suddenly weighed down by real curiosity, real want. "Maybe you prefer Logan's style. Is he a poet? Do his bottles of wine and high-class Spaghetti-O's fit your taste?" He paused, suddenly unsure. "Do you think sex is something to wait for?"
Max suddenly grew silent, abruptly aware of the underlying seriousness in Alec's sarcastic manner; the terse way he held his body in the chair, trying to appear relaxed.
"Do you feel like the Bible says, Max?" he asked softly, dead serious. "Do you think that sex is some precious flower or whatever, to be saved for one person and one person only?" Amazingly enough, his tone wasn't condemning or reproachful. He looked as if he was really fascinated by the thought of that being her philosophy.
Max, unable to bear the weight of Alec's probing gaze, stood up and began pacing the room to work out her apprehension. This was heading into dangerous territory. She had never discussed her sexual morals with O.C., her confidant, much less some Manticore womanizer like Alec. In all honesty, Max didn't know why she never got around to 'getting laid'. She just didn't. It was an unnecessary hassle, she'd seen too many roommates over too many years get heartbroken because her "generous lover" felt like spreading his brimming benevolence - among other things - around the neighborhood. Then there was the whole factor that even casual sex seemed to invite a "closeness" Max couldn't afford, having a secret government bureau on her tail and all.
Not only that, but Max considered her body probably one of the only things about herself she truly owned. Oh sure, Manticore engineered her body down to the rate at which her toenails grew, but that was where the "owning" stopped. With the exception of her "cycles" a few times a year - thank whatever deity Manticore had fixed those during her last stay. Even after the escape, when Max believed she truly began living - no longer existing -, Manticore owned her soul for a while, then her heart, and finally it released it's grasp on her mind. But after the escape, Max's body was hers and hers alone, so she naturally felt a little protective.
Halting her march and her thoughts, Max stopped in front of the window, taking in the thundering tempest raging outside. And the one building inside the room. Like the night of Joshua's party, the walls began to gradually pull in towards the center of the room, where Alec was now standing, drawn by some invisible - but fervent - magnet. His eyes were boring into her from behind, making her feel an unwelcome vulnerability.
Alec watched her pace around the room with something akin to anticipation, hopefulness. In and of itself, the feelings were absurd. It was none of his business whether Max was chaste or the whore of Babylon. She wasn't his wife...well, not really. She didn't promise to honor, cherish, hold him in sickness and in health, until death do they part. No, she promised to stick around for 18 months and then ride off into the sunset with her "lover boy". Logan. Alec's eyes darkened over with protectiveness - or envy, at this point they seemed pretty synonymous - at the thought of Logan and Max...he couldn't even finish the thought, but whether he was more disgusted by the imagery or his own reaction was better left unsaid.
Feeling his originally innocent question stirring up unwanted feelings, Alec tried to get Max to talk again. He needed something to distract him. Before he lost himself to male stupidity, he changed the course of the subject. "Of course, if I were you, I wouldn't sleep with Logan," he quipped snidely, almost regretting the comment. Almost. Although Alec saw the angry slam of cement walls close around her eyes, if he had to sit there and think about some certain idealistic, posh, and self-ordained Messiah of lost turtles taking Max to his bed, he'd hurl. Or even worse, he might do something stupid, or say something stupid.
Max and Logan. Together. Intimately. The thought was more than nauseating.
It was painful. On several levels.
Unfortunately, the only one Alec would allow himself to admit to was male pride.
Max turned around on one heel very slowly. Unable to see the shock, anger, and most of all, hurt, mingling on her face, Alec slid his leather jacket off of the back of the chair. "The storm's lighting up, I am going to go grab some grub," he said, his back to Max. "You want anything in particular, Chinese, piz...Ooof!" For the second time that day, Alec hit the ground with an colossal thud, compliments of his wife. Only this time, Max wasn't feeling playful. She felt angry, livid, maybe even the littlest bit hurt; but anything far from playful.
Pulling his face out of the grubby shag carpet, Alec rolled to his back, looking up at Max. Hands on her hips, nostrils flaring, eyes flaming, she did not look like a happy camper. Playing possum seemed to be Alec's only hope for survival. But would he do it? Not a chance. They both had some serious issues to clear up here, before the static electricity sparked and caused a forest fire.
Rising to his feet slowly - as to not startle his predator - he asked carefully, "What was that for?"
Max went from angry to stunned and back. Wait, no...she was enraged now. "How...I...what...you...?" she sputtered, her hands flapping through the air like a hen trying to fly. Palms in the air, Alec began to back away slowly, but she kept stalking him until he had his back against the wall, literally. "Where do you get off?!?"
Alec mulled the question over. "Well, I thought I'd use the exit ramp, but if you've got a better idea..." he was cut off by a fist pounding his shoulder. Balling the lapels of his leather jacket inside her smaller fists, she pulled him a couple inches towards herself, just to slam him back against the groaning wall again. "I can't believe you! Who are you to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with? Nobody!" With each statement, she heaved him against the wall, bits of plaster drifting about them like winter's first snow. "Don't treat me like I am wrong just because I know someone's name, phone number, address, and favorite color before I sleep with him! I am tired of being little virgin Max! Just because I've never had sex doesn't give Minette the right to harass me all the time, or you to tell me..." With one last chuck, she strode away from him, afraid of her own anger.
Alec, bouncing off the wall with characteristic ease, felt his own temper rising in proportion with hers. After lightly brushing plaster bits off of his broad shoulders, he followed her to the window. Standing mere inches behind Max, he tried to push himself away from her, but found that he couldn't. They stood like that for minutes, hours, days on end. Her watching the storm. Him watching her.
When Alec could finally see straight, the colors no longer obscured, he lightly grasped her shoulders. Max tensed in reaction - obviously prepared for a more violent handling -, which tormented Alec all the more. He noted her clenched eyes and fists when she finally faced him. "Max, look at me," he pleaded softly. His strong hands slid down to cup her elbows, pushing her gently against the wall. It was almost comforting, the gentle pressure Max felt holding her up, suspending her in time. Lost in her own thoughts she strove to use the cold glass of the rain pelted window against her back and shoulders as her last link to reality. How much she would rather be outside, finding solace and asylum in the icy downpour, as opposed to being braced by this man. Time to face the music. Or fire. Slowly she opened her eyes, not looking at his face, but at their feet.
"Max, tell me the truth. Do you love Logan, or was it just lust? During that 12 hour cure what did you feel when he touched you, kissed you? The pent up longing and love between you should have rocked your senses." Unknowingly, he let memories of the release of his own "pent up longing" squeeze her arms a little tighter, drawing her attention to his chest. "Even at that, it was five years ago. If there was no virus now, and you went home, would you give what you have obviously been saving for someone special? Do you think he loves you? Don't you think you deserve better?" By a sheer force of will power and telepathy, her eyes locked with his. Confused and lost but determined, Max couldn't give up on Logan.
Not just yet.
"Who do I deserve Alec?" she asked softly. "You?" She instantly regretted the remark, and reached for him. But Alec had stepped back, slightly hunched and defeated, as if she had just kicked him in the stomach. She watched his face change from offended to agonized, agonized to self-derisive, and finally from self-derisive to impassive and perfectly pokerfaced. Alec smiled one of his smiles that never reached his eyes - which Max had come to learn meant he had been stung unusually deep - and he said, "No Max, you don't deserve me. Well actually, no one deserves you."
*****
Minette was sitting at Crash, waiting for her favorite patron. Alec left Seattle with Max - much to her ire - but when he came back, he seemed to be in a severe state of shell-shock. The walking dead in question came through the door, and the brunette's eyes lit up with almost sadistic glee. He meandered to the bar, ordering his usual scotch, gulping it down without a second thought, immediately signaling for another. Alec had three shots in a freefall towards his stomach by the time Minette magically appeared at his side. Not even glancing her way, he asked, "What can I do for you tonight?"
"Hmm. I can think of plenty of responses to that," she quipped. Alec swiveled in his chair. Even completely heartbroken and doing his best to drown the sad fact in alcohol, he still was gorgeous. She sat back in her own chair, admiring him and giving him ample opportunity to reciprocate. And for once, he did. He sat back himself, taking in her smooth legs, impossibly full curves, and promising eyes. Fine.
Tonight he'd bite.
Placing down his fees for the scotch, he grabbed her graceful hand in his chiseled one. He led them haphazardly through the speculative crowd, unaware of Cindy's vigilant eyes. Minette noticed though, and threw a triumphant look over her shoulder, daring O.C. to separate the two. O.C. just stared at the couple with something akin to pity.
Once free from Crash's smoky atmosphere and attentive witnesses, Alec pulled Minette behind a stack of crates and released all of his pent up passion and vehemence in a merciless attack on her willing lips. His lips drove her crazy with desire. His skilled hands flamed her lust. "Wait," she breathlessly said, pulling back slightly.
Alec didn't want to wait, didn't want to think. "Your place," he gruffly said. Minette gave him a sultry smile, promising him the pleasures of the night to come. "Yeah," she agreed, kissing him quickly before she leading him to her car.
Minette turned on the ignition with a proud flick of her wrist, looking over to her passenger, who sent her a slightly dubious, but resolute grin of his own.
Max could simper over her humanoid Logan all that she wanted. For tonight at least, Minette had caught the real prize.
Hi! I love you guys, really. Hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving. I'll make sure I have the next chapter up by....Valentine's at the least. ;)