Disclaimer: I don't own them.
A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. To those who hated the story's plotlines and to those who defended my honor in particular. (You're ALL so great.) Even those who clearly stated the major flaws in the story and the complete "destruction of Max's character". You stated your opinion, loud and clear; my respect for reviewers everywhere went up a notch. Will I change the path of this story? I am not sorry to say that I won't. If you don't like it, as one reviewer said, you don't have to read it. There are several other M/A stories out there that will leave Max as she is and write impeccable stories in the process. You can stop; you have my blessing to do so. (Not that you need it.)
I can completely understand the need behind reading an offending piece of writing, stating your opinion on why it is wrong, and not reading anymore and encouraging others not to read it as well. Thank you for reading at least thus far and giving the God's honest truth - or opinion, the lines are rather blurred.
Whoever said I sounded self-righteous thank you for reminding me. I have been fighting that a lot recently, and you reminded me I still have a lot of work to go as of yet. YES, IN ALL REALITY, I HAVE "CHANGED" MAX INTO SOMEONE I CAN IDENTIFY WITH. You might see me as opposed to Max, and I am sorry about that, it wasn't my intention, not at all. (Max is a heck of a lot stronger than I could ever be, figuratively as well as literally.) But truly, don't all of our favorite books and movies contain a heroine/hero that we pretend to be? They have the strength (or love, or faith, whatever your preference is) that we want, that we aspire to. Who knows? Maybe leading the residents of TC for five years "changed" Max. Maybe it made her grow up, become more moralistic, etc.
On a final note: To those who I really seemed to have pissed off. I am not sorry. I have written the story the way I have written the story, and I am too lazy - and quite frankly, too proud - to change it. Actually, I think I owe you some debt of gratitude. Seeing people hate this story strengthened me in my own ethics, but at the same time humbled me and broke some of my pride. I truly thank you.
I really hope somebody read this, particularly those who I offended.
I am sorry, that was a lot longer than I originally planned.
A/N #2: Anybody who actually finished the first A/N deserves a nice big pat on the back. Give yourself one from me. Now go get yourself a big bowl of ice cream.
No Harvest This Season
Of course, as Fate would have it - being the wily imp that she is -, that was the same night Max broke it off with Logan.
For good this time.
*****
"All went well, I presume?" Logan asked over a glass of Pre-Pulse chardonnay.
"Yeah, Logan. It went off without a hitch," Max replied soullessly. With a foreboding silence, she showed the small puncture in her forearm where the needle had gone in.
Where the cure had gone in.
Logan leaned a few inches forward in his chair, as if doing so would unlock whatever secret his pokerfaced companion seemed to hold away so dearly. He almost reached out to tip her chin up to face him, as opposed to having her study the fine artistry of the cherry wood table so intently. Admonishing himself for such a ludicrous idea, Logan held back. Even though Max had already injected herself with the cure, her body wouldn't be rid of one of the constant barriers in their relationship for at least another two and a half weeks. Speaking of constant barriers..."It's Alec isn't it," he asked, composed and unassuming.
Max did look up then, baffled. Even if the eyes weren't the window to the soul, it was obvious he had hit the proverbial nail square on the head. Back straight as a pole, mouth slightly ajar, eyebrows reaching for the stars, and claws industriously digging into the table: Max looked for all the world like a back alley kitten, caught between a brick wall, a rummaged trashcan, and the driver ready to haul her off to the pound. She obviously wasn't up to playing with the big dogs right then.
Composing herself, Max quickly denied the idea vocally, while finally accepting the idea inwardly. It WAS Alec, the constant source of her problems. Not in necessarily a bad way, but it just was. Alec the Wise Guy. Alec the Scoundrel. Alec the Womanizer. Alec the Protagonist. Alec the Ally. Alec the Husband. Alec the...Alec. Behold the many faces of Alec. Did it always have to come back to him, of all people?
"Max," Logan said for the umpteenth time. She'd completely spaced him out again, lost in her own thoughts. It was starting to get unnerving, not to mention annoying.
"Yes," she interjected reflexively, not knowing what question she might have been asked. "What?" she asked. Lost in a complete Daze, Max felt scatterbrained but completely focused at the same time. But the focus wasn't on Logan; it was on that lousy husband of hers. The Daze cleared her mind, and showed her the truth she had been fighting for so long.
Alas, the Daze left her feeling a bit impulsive as well.
"Do you love me Logan?"
Trying not to look completely blown out of the water by the spontaneous question, he managed a strangled "Yes."
"No you don't." There was no condemnation; just cold, hard honesty.
Now it was his turn to be baffled. "What are you talking about?"
The world had fallen off of her axis and was now careening wildly out of control, taking Logan for a bumpy ride. Max, his driver, seemed to be completely serene, at ease even. She knew something mysterious, and was waiting patiently for him to figure it out. Her face alighted by some epiphany-like smolder, she was more alluring than ever. Whatever knowledge had suddenly fallen into her lap left her breezy, beautiful, and abruptly unattainable. Like the last remnants of a perfect slumber quickly disappearing, Logan felt the dredges of Reality settle in the pit of his stomach, like the light of day cascading on his eyelids. Then Reality started to billow and unfurl, sweeping across his entire frame, finally reaching the tips of his toes and the back of his mind. It wasn't until then he realized what Max was truly saying, what she had been saying, what THEY had been saying.
It was over.
Their farce of a relationship was finally over.
*****
Logan was no fool. His relationship with Valerie had left him jaded, but sharper. He had known this day was coming, but failed to let himself see what had been sitting right in front of his nose.
The abrupt ending with Valerie had hit him like a ton of bricks, crushing him under their unmerciful weight. It had taken Logan years to fully remove those bricks; even then, he still had a couple tied to his shoelaces. This was different though, his break off with Max. They had drifted apart over time, but now that Logan thought about it, they had never really been drifting together. Max had come along and selflessly -though unwittingly - helped him rid himself of the load of past relationship failures. During their mutual struggle to pull off each other's blocks of burden an unbreakable bond had formed. A sound friendship. The break-up of the relationship that never was left him lighter, relieved.
They weren't supposed to be lovers.
They say girls marry their fathers; for a short time Max had tried to do just so. No Logan wasn't abrasive or abusive like Manticore had been, but in his own soft way he always called for "Eyes front." He gave her a mission, a purpose, helping mold her in ways no secret government operation ever could. He had made her grow up, pushing her outside the self-centered limits of her former existence. She wasn't some government product. She was a human being. She wasn't inferior.
Max had been Logan's goddess at first. With Valerie and the many other women in his life, he always pushed for what he couldn't have. Putting himself into situations where he felt unworthy had been his haven for so long. But then Max had come along, physically superior, perfect. But she was broken, just like everyone else. She was just like Logan, quivering in her own fears. No one was perfect, she taught him that. He wasn't inferior.
*****
Completely sorted out, Max and Logan looked at each other. They shared their first true smile, unhindered by "supposed to's" and "what if's".
What had never officially begun was now officially over.
Rising gracefully from her seat on the couch, she bounced across the room, put on the ever-present plastic gloves, and picked up the phone. After punching a couple buttons, she tossed the phone to Logan. Bemused, placed the phone to his ear.
"Bye, Logan," Max called. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Logan never really heard her farewell, staring at the disappearing shape. "Hello?" came the voice on the other end of the line. Logan smiled, filled with liberation and gratitude.
Speed dial 6.
*****
"...And O.C. didn't do anything, just stood there. Right after they were out the door, I came here." she said.
Walking up behind his friend, Joshua put his burly arms around her lithe-like frame. Of course, when considering his size and shape, almost anything seemed lithe-like. "You did the right thing, Cindy," he murmured into her thick black hair. He gave her an extra squeeze for reassurance.
"Yeah right," she bit off. "Tell Original Cindy that again when Minette pops out Alec Jr. in nine months."
"I know Alec," Josh said reassuringly. "He won't sleep with Minette. He loves Max."
*****
She gunned her engine down the uninviting alley outside of Crash. Pulling up near the doorway, she turned off of her engine. Mid-swing off of her bike, Max saw them.
Minette and Alec. Kissing. Hot and heavy.
Max couldn't believe her eyes. Unable to speak, move, or even breathe, she just flopped back down onto her bike and watched. Time stopped. The world spun on a different axis; or maybe it stopped spinning entirely. Whatever it was - something unseen, but constantly unvarying - up and decided to throw itself completely off kilter. All senses heightened. Eyes memorized the hands on her face, the lips slamming against Minette's. Every breath shared between them brought back another element of the night of Joshua's party back to the forefront of her mind, pushed back until this moment. The handles underneath her gloved fingers were suddenly cold and mocking. The taste of lust lingered in the air. She heard the faint "your place" reverberate off of the grungy brick walls.
When they left, the temporary paralysis left Max's dismayed body. She covered the Ninja, suddenly breathless. Gasping for air, she started the engine and turned towards one of her sanctuaries. The Space Needle.
*****
"They're both fools."
"They'll come around eventually."
"Whateva you say, Big Boo. Just tell Original Cindy this: What's Max going to do when she finds out?"
Silence.
*****
"Alec, that feels so good." He pulled back for a moment, smiling shamelessly.
"Just wait," he whispered, capturing her lips again. They continued in their teasing with merciless greediness. Moving his lips from hers, he worked his way down her smooth jawbone and sinuous throat, earning several celebratory sighs from his "date".
It had taken them forever to get back to her place. Impatient, he had begun his teasing before they had even reached the first stoplight away from Crash. When they finally reached her apartment, they were deadlocked in each other's arms. This was the way it was supposed to be. They were perfect together.
A rather ugly, triumphant smile crossed her face at the memory. Then Minette heard it. Faint, breathless, and rock-solid. It wasn't her name he sighed; it was another's. All the craving that had matured after the years turned cold in the bottom of her stomach. The constant churning of desire froze over.
None too gently, she pushed Alec off of her. He rolled to his back with stunned compliance, flailing like a fish. He didn't just...but judging by the frosty fire in Minette's eyes, he did.
"What did you say?" she asked coldly, unbelieving. He was finally going to be hers, and he just...it was unthinkable.
Wordlessly, he spun to his side, sizing up his companion. Flushed, panting for breath, curves the goddess Venus would be envious over: there was no good reason why he shouldn't want her. And yet. He closed his eyes, wistfully eager for just one moment of obscurity, emptiness.
It didn't come.
Exploding memories reflected off of all sides of his brain, like a tiny beam of light first catching the maze of mirrors. One tiny image made way for several, each more disloyal to the spot he was laying than the last. The memories overflowed; harsh but necessary, ugly but glorious. One face remained constant, in many a display of emotions. Did it always have to come back to her, of all people?
He wasn't supposed to be here. With one last, fleeting glance to his companion, he rose from the bed. Turning his face away he grabbed his discarded shirt that landed on the lampshade, the shoes from the floor. Walking - for the first time that night, with a real purpose - out the door, he hustled down the stairs, away from Minette's apartment. He needed to be going fast or up high to truly sort his thoughts. He didn't feel like racing around Seattle and battling with the Sector Police and their ridiculous restrictions tonight. Gunning his engines, he turned his Ninja towards the Space Needle.
He never actually did answer Minette's question. She knew what he said and so did he.
Lying next to one of the sexiest, most beautiful women in the world, he moaned the name of his loathed wife.
Go figure.
*****
To turn around or not to turn around, that was the question.
Max felt his presence behind her, the eyes boring into her back, rarely glancing away, and only when the night below cried out in pain. A siren from the Sector Police went off; the eyes moved away. The distant alarm of a museum sounded across the dimly lit horizon; the eyes moved away. Luckily for Max, the city was freely voicing all complaints tonight, because Alec had yet to drop the majority of his training. Always alert, always investigating. Every time the oppressive eyes moved away, she felt she could breathe.
Max was sad. Beyond sad, she was miserable. Yes, she and Alec did have an agreement with their dating statuses, which is what the entire marriage was about. But at the same time, seeing Alec sliding lips with Minette and knowing that he slept with her had put her in an inexplicable funk of melancholy and chaos, rolled together in a hostile muddle. Heavy on the "hostile". Max knew how she would react if she were to say anything, do anything. Depression would convert into confusion, which would convert in anger. Anger was not a plus at this point in time. As great as it would be to do something irrational and completely vent her anger in the process, she would say something to hurt Alec. For all of his facade of immunity, he was actually very fragile. And Max knew a number of Achilles'' heels that Alec possessed.
But Minette, of all people?
Was Max disappointed in him? Undoubtedly.
Hurt? Possibly.
Jealous? Max refused to even answer the question, on general principle.
Minette? The name ran in her mind over and over again, accompanied by several choice images. While she personally would spit on the woman's grave, she knew Minette was just her husband's type. Beautiful. Bold. Smart. Beautiful. Sexy. Cunning. Beautiful.
But the most troublesome thought of the entire evening was...why did Max care? She was determined not to care. It would go against her newfound theory: She wasn't meant to fall in love. It wasn't some twisted logic because she was a genetically enhanced super soldier, trained not to fall in love. She had too many other things to worry about. Even though the "Transgenic Problem" had been neatly cleared over, there were a few small storms now and then that had to be fought. And Max was the spokesperson. And even if there wasn't the whole transgenic deal going on, it was about time she declared herself as a free, independent, and single woman. Her chin tilted up in pride at the thought, and she allowed herself a small nod. Yes, she was through with men. She was free, independent...
...and married.
Details, details. The divorce would be finalized in a few months' time, anyway.
Minette had Alec. Alec had Minette. Logan had Asha. Asha had Logan.
Max had Max.
"I don't need Alec," she said to herself, forgetting her company and his hypersensitive hearing. A shadow stiffened in the background. She continued so quietly that she didn't even hear it herself, much less the offended silhouette. "I don't need Logan. I don't need anybody."
Suddenly less sure of herself, she glanced down at the source of one of her many afflictions.
Her wedding ring was as polished as ever, with the exception of a few grease stains tainting the rim. Max frowned down at her shackle; she really should have taken it off when working on the Ninja. She slipped the ring off of her finger, inspecting the grit crusting the outside in the dismal glow of the Seattle skyline. Scratching off some of the grime with her fingernail, she almost involuntarily chucked the ring over the fringe of the Space Needle - not to mention herself - when she heard his voice suddenly right behind her ear ask cryptically, "You're not really going to toss that are you?"
*****
To speak or not to speak, that was the question.
Alec must have stood their for a good thirty minutes; his eyes boring into her back, willing to make her turn around and willing her to not move a muscle at the same time. See? This was why Alec hated this marriage. Max had him so confused, he didn't even know whether he wanted her to spin around or stay still. And that's the simple stuff, not to mention the tougher stuff. Should he try to cheer her up when she was blue? Should he play the jesting rake or the sincere comrade? And most importantly, should he grant her a divorce when the time was up?
It was stuff like that. He felt so inept to make decisions constantly, even military ones at times, where his expertise outweighed hers by a good ten years. Constantly second-guessing himself, Alec would try to decide if Max would agree with his decisions. And the worst part was, if he thought she wouldn't like it, he'd occasionally adjust the plan. He would change the plan on something he thought would upset a person who wouldn't even know the existence of his operation. WHY?
But Alec knew why. It finally dawned on him, sitting at the stoplight of South Market and Grand. She got under his skin; the same skin he had spent so many long, hard years trying to keep untouched.
And she didn't just "touch" his skin, no that was too simple for let's-complicate-everything-so-I-can-feel-suitably-guilty Max. Max waltzed up, found an old battle scar, ripped it open, and peered inside like some deranged physician. Not even a real physician, more like a pre-med kid. She didn't know anything, but she tried to fix it anyway. Then she had the nerve to feel bad when he winced at the ripping open of an already healed wound. Well, it wasn't quite healed, but it was on its way. Sort of. Maybe. Either way, it was none of her business, thank you very much. He had every intention of telling her that, and he even did. Occasionally.
He was just so riled by her sometimes he didn't know whether to embrace her or flatten the girl on her fanny.
Max was just so frustrating and obnoxious and hoity-toity and...
...Alec was a fool.
A fool in love.
With Max.
God help us all.
Well he sure wasn't going to tell her. She had Logan, he thought with a sneer. Bile rose in the back of Alec's throat. There was nothing to be done. Max had Logan. Logan had Max. Alec had Alec. According to Max's sketch of Alec's character, that would be all he needed. Alec was narcissistic and rude and arrogant.
Then he heard it, soft and confident.
"I don't need Alec."
Not that he would ever expect Max to admit her undying love for him in any way. Though the drama suited her type, bestowing her love on his "unworthy" self would be too much to ask. The words hit Alec like a physical blow, causing him to stagger back a step.
`I don't need Alec.' Alec may have been a lovesick fool, but he was no idiot. He had learned to speak `Max' quiet fluently and he knew how it worked. `I don't need Alec' meant `I don't want Alec.' `I don't want Alec' meant `I don't like Alec.' And Max was a very passionate person. Either she loved you or she hated you. `I don't like Alec' meant `I hate Alec.'
He had said those words to himself over and over again for the past few years. Anytime he screwed up and she glowered, or even when he did well and she barely smiled, he reminded himself of the phrase. "She hates you." He had whispered it to himself over and over, becoming his personal mantra. Alec knew she hated him in his head, it was just that the heart - though fragile - was just so dang persistent. His brain had been warning him all these years, trying to thwart the calamity, but his heart had dared to hope. Somewhere deep inside the very bottom of his heart, the remotest part, where no person had ever been, - not even Rachel - Max had touched. Touched, caressed, stroked, pummeled - whatever she did, Max had done it all to well. Max had lit a very tiny, very crucial candle in his soul. While the flame inside showed all of his grim Shadows, it bestowed the Light as well. And with Light had come Hope...
...suddenly smashed.
On closer look, he saw Max remove the ring from her finger, broodingly glowering at it. She raised it high enough to catch one last look before casting it over the edge of the Space Needle. Coincidence? Alec didn't think so. Determined not to be the brunt of a brush-off - no matter how symbolic -, he crossed the space between them and masked his voice in something "light" asking, "You're not really going to toss that are you?"
*****
Minette rested on her bed, staring at the doorway where Alec had meandered out mere minutes earlier. It was inconceivable, simply inconceivable. From flicker to inferno, she had so diligently built up that man for over five years, only to be dispelled by a puff, a name.
Max.
Growling, Minette flopped down face first on her bed. Disgusted by the bitter taste of defeat flooded her mouth, she quickly spit on the floor. It was galling to contemplate, much less admit - but it was true.
It was over.
Minette was actually quite shocked that her heart wasn't quite broken at the thought. Sure, her pride was on a self-righteous fire, lost in the common "How dare he?" and "What nerve!" But at the same time, she wasn't all that broken about it.
It was over.
Fine, Minette was strong and there was plenty of fish in the sea. One dead cod wasn't going to destroy her day.
The shocking thing was that something else infuriated Minette more than Alec's unwitting confession of love for Max. That part of her wounded pride was pretty much mended by his assessment. He knew he should want her, it was just that the little wife got in the way. No something much worse settled in the back of her mind, steadily working its way to the forefront - like her steadily increasing pressure on the vase in her hand. Accepting another calamitous thought, Minette flung the vase against the wall in a fit of rage, satisfied by the dusty crash.
Max would have her Disney-style happy ending.
Minette was no fool. It was blatantly obvious to everyone but Max and Alec that they loved each other. Alec was coming to terms with it, so would Max eventually - but only after many a dramatic sighs. That thought scourged her pride the most. It wasn't really anything personal; Minette just couldn't stand the girl. Her eyes glazed over the apartment blankly until she spotted her salvation - or maybe it was her Black Book, the lights were seductively dim.
Alec's jacket. Minette's eyes gleamed in appreciation for his forgetfulness. Lost in his own thoughts and rush, he had left it behind.
Perfect.
Even though Max stood a better chance at winning the main man eventually, it would be a personal honor to destroy her - even if only for a short while. Give Max back the jacket, a few veiled remarks, and watch the girl crumble. It would be perfect. Knowing Max's uptight morals it could be quite sometime - if ever - before she trusted Alec again.
Perfect.
*****
"You're not really going to toss that are you?"
Much to her personal humiliation, Max must have leaped a good six inches in the air. Feigning he didn't just catch her forehead in his chin, Alec sat down next to her - entirely too close for any degree of comfort, for either party. Turning his head to watch the now inanimate horizon, he used his other senses to gauge her feelings. Her heart rate had skyrocketed - not too surprising when she had almost pulled a triple flip off of the Space Needle - and was now returning to normal, almost. Her breathing was irregular - also probably due to her near acrobatics.
Wary to the point of insanity, Max amused herself by peeling the last bits of grease off of her ring. Putting it back on with all the grace she could muster in her frantic state - like a drugged elephant trying to walk a tightrope. All the peanuts on the opposing platform couldn't settle her jumpy nerves. Alec noticed her shakiness and for once decided to refrain from saying something witty, no matter how tempting it might have been. It wouldn't really be fair anyway; he was just as wobbly as she was. The heat from their bodies bounced back and forth between them like frenetic sound waves. The last time they were so close together was in the hotel room, Alec subconsciously shivered at the thought.
It was best not to say anything. Talking would lead to arguing. While they were both looking for a fight, they were also incredibly reluctant to throw the first punch. It was almost heady, the scent of upcoming skirmish, dancing around in two sets of nostrils.
Their next clash would be a doozy; and they were both terrified of it. Who knows what they would confess under the pressure? In their silence they tried to stall the coming storm, settling for at least the temporary stillness. The rising barometric pressure was palpable, the calm was deceiving.
The hurricane began its rage the next day.
A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. To those who hated the story's plotlines and to those who defended my honor in particular. (You're ALL so great.) Even those who clearly stated the major flaws in the story and the complete "destruction of Max's character". You stated your opinion, loud and clear; my respect for reviewers everywhere went up a notch. Will I change the path of this story? I am not sorry to say that I won't. If you don't like it, as one reviewer said, you don't have to read it. There are several other M/A stories out there that will leave Max as she is and write impeccable stories in the process. You can stop; you have my blessing to do so. (Not that you need it.)
I can completely understand the need behind reading an offending piece of writing, stating your opinion on why it is wrong, and not reading anymore and encouraging others not to read it as well. Thank you for reading at least thus far and giving the God's honest truth - or opinion, the lines are rather blurred.
Whoever said I sounded self-righteous thank you for reminding me. I have been fighting that a lot recently, and you reminded me I still have a lot of work to go as of yet. YES, IN ALL REALITY, I HAVE "CHANGED" MAX INTO SOMEONE I CAN IDENTIFY WITH. You might see me as opposed to Max, and I am sorry about that, it wasn't my intention, not at all. (Max is a heck of a lot stronger than I could ever be, figuratively as well as literally.) But truly, don't all of our favorite books and movies contain a heroine/hero that we pretend to be? They have the strength (or love, or faith, whatever your preference is) that we want, that we aspire to. Who knows? Maybe leading the residents of TC for five years "changed" Max. Maybe it made her grow up, become more moralistic, etc.
On a final note: To those who I really seemed to have pissed off. I am not sorry. I have written the story the way I have written the story, and I am too lazy - and quite frankly, too proud - to change it. Actually, I think I owe you some debt of gratitude. Seeing people hate this story strengthened me in my own ethics, but at the same time humbled me and broke some of my pride. I truly thank you.
I really hope somebody read this, particularly those who I offended.
I am sorry, that was a lot longer than I originally planned.
A/N #2: Anybody who actually finished the first A/N deserves a nice big pat on the back. Give yourself one from me. Now go get yourself a big bowl of ice cream.
No Harvest This Season
Of course, as Fate would have it - being the wily imp that she is -, that was the same night Max broke it off with Logan.
For good this time.
*****
"All went well, I presume?" Logan asked over a glass of Pre-Pulse chardonnay.
"Yeah, Logan. It went off without a hitch," Max replied soullessly. With a foreboding silence, she showed the small puncture in her forearm where the needle had gone in.
Where the cure had gone in.
Logan leaned a few inches forward in his chair, as if doing so would unlock whatever secret his pokerfaced companion seemed to hold away so dearly. He almost reached out to tip her chin up to face him, as opposed to having her study the fine artistry of the cherry wood table so intently. Admonishing himself for such a ludicrous idea, Logan held back. Even though Max had already injected herself with the cure, her body wouldn't be rid of one of the constant barriers in their relationship for at least another two and a half weeks. Speaking of constant barriers..."It's Alec isn't it," he asked, composed and unassuming.
Max did look up then, baffled. Even if the eyes weren't the window to the soul, it was obvious he had hit the proverbial nail square on the head. Back straight as a pole, mouth slightly ajar, eyebrows reaching for the stars, and claws industriously digging into the table: Max looked for all the world like a back alley kitten, caught between a brick wall, a rummaged trashcan, and the driver ready to haul her off to the pound. She obviously wasn't up to playing with the big dogs right then.
Composing herself, Max quickly denied the idea vocally, while finally accepting the idea inwardly. It WAS Alec, the constant source of her problems. Not in necessarily a bad way, but it just was. Alec the Wise Guy. Alec the Scoundrel. Alec the Womanizer. Alec the Protagonist. Alec the Ally. Alec the Husband. Alec the...Alec. Behold the many faces of Alec. Did it always have to come back to him, of all people?
"Max," Logan said for the umpteenth time. She'd completely spaced him out again, lost in her own thoughts. It was starting to get unnerving, not to mention annoying.
"Yes," she interjected reflexively, not knowing what question she might have been asked. "What?" she asked. Lost in a complete Daze, Max felt scatterbrained but completely focused at the same time. But the focus wasn't on Logan; it was on that lousy husband of hers. The Daze cleared her mind, and showed her the truth she had been fighting for so long.
Alas, the Daze left her feeling a bit impulsive as well.
"Do you love me Logan?"
Trying not to look completely blown out of the water by the spontaneous question, he managed a strangled "Yes."
"No you don't." There was no condemnation; just cold, hard honesty.
Now it was his turn to be baffled. "What are you talking about?"
The world had fallen off of her axis and was now careening wildly out of control, taking Logan for a bumpy ride. Max, his driver, seemed to be completely serene, at ease even. She knew something mysterious, and was waiting patiently for him to figure it out. Her face alighted by some epiphany-like smolder, she was more alluring than ever. Whatever knowledge had suddenly fallen into her lap left her breezy, beautiful, and abruptly unattainable. Like the last remnants of a perfect slumber quickly disappearing, Logan felt the dredges of Reality settle in the pit of his stomach, like the light of day cascading on his eyelids. Then Reality started to billow and unfurl, sweeping across his entire frame, finally reaching the tips of his toes and the back of his mind. It wasn't until then he realized what Max was truly saying, what she had been saying, what THEY had been saying.
It was over.
Their farce of a relationship was finally over.
*****
Logan was no fool. His relationship with Valerie had left him jaded, but sharper. He had known this day was coming, but failed to let himself see what had been sitting right in front of his nose.
The abrupt ending with Valerie had hit him like a ton of bricks, crushing him under their unmerciful weight. It had taken Logan years to fully remove those bricks; even then, he still had a couple tied to his shoelaces. This was different though, his break off with Max. They had drifted apart over time, but now that Logan thought about it, they had never really been drifting together. Max had come along and selflessly -though unwittingly - helped him rid himself of the load of past relationship failures. During their mutual struggle to pull off each other's blocks of burden an unbreakable bond had formed. A sound friendship. The break-up of the relationship that never was left him lighter, relieved.
They weren't supposed to be lovers.
They say girls marry their fathers; for a short time Max had tried to do just so. No Logan wasn't abrasive or abusive like Manticore had been, but in his own soft way he always called for "Eyes front." He gave her a mission, a purpose, helping mold her in ways no secret government operation ever could. He had made her grow up, pushing her outside the self-centered limits of her former existence. She wasn't some government product. She was a human being. She wasn't inferior.
Max had been Logan's goddess at first. With Valerie and the many other women in his life, he always pushed for what he couldn't have. Putting himself into situations where he felt unworthy had been his haven for so long. But then Max had come along, physically superior, perfect. But she was broken, just like everyone else. She was just like Logan, quivering in her own fears. No one was perfect, she taught him that. He wasn't inferior.
*****
Completely sorted out, Max and Logan looked at each other. They shared their first true smile, unhindered by "supposed to's" and "what if's".
What had never officially begun was now officially over.
Rising gracefully from her seat on the couch, she bounced across the room, put on the ever-present plastic gloves, and picked up the phone. After punching a couple buttons, she tossed the phone to Logan. Bemused, placed the phone to his ear.
"Bye, Logan," Max called. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Logan never really heard her farewell, staring at the disappearing shape. "Hello?" came the voice on the other end of the line. Logan smiled, filled with liberation and gratitude.
Speed dial 6.
*****
"...And O.C. didn't do anything, just stood there. Right after they were out the door, I came here." she said.
Walking up behind his friend, Joshua put his burly arms around her lithe-like frame. Of course, when considering his size and shape, almost anything seemed lithe-like. "You did the right thing, Cindy," he murmured into her thick black hair. He gave her an extra squeeze for reassurance.
"Yeah right," she bit off. "Tell Original Cindy that again when Minette pops out Alec Jr. in nine months."
"I know Alec," Josh said reassuringly. "He won't sleep with Minette. He loves Max."
*****
She gunned her engine down the uninviting alley outside of Crash. Pulling up near the doorway, she turned off of her engine. Mid-swing off of her bike, Max saw them.
Minette and Alec. Kissing. Hot and heavy.
Max couldn't believe her eyes. Unable to speak, move, or even breathe, she just flopped back down onto her bike and watched. Time stopped. The world spun on a different axis; or maybe it stopped spinning entirely. Whatever it was - something unseen, but constantly unvarying - up and decided to throw itself completely off kilter. All senses heightened. Eyes memorized the hands on her face, the lips slamming against Minette's. Every breath shared between them brought back another element of the night of Joshua's party back to the forefront of her mind, pushed back until this moment. The handles underneath her gloved fingers were suddenly cold and mocking. The taste of lust lingered in the air. She heard the faint "your place" reverberate off of the grungy brick walls.
When they left, the temporary paralysis left Max's dismayed body. She covered the Ninja, suddenly breathless. Gasping for air, she started the engine and turned towards one of her sanctuaries. The Space Needle.
*****
"They're both fools."
"They'll come around eventually."
"Whateva you say, Big Boo. Just tell Original Cindy this: What's Max going to do when she finds out?"
Silence.
*****
"Alec, that feels so good." He pulled back for a moment, smiling shamelessly.
"Just wait," he whispered, capturing her lips again. They continued in their teasing with merciless greediness. Moving his lips from hers, he worked his way down her smooth jawbone and sinuous throat, earning several celebratory sighs from his "date".
It had taken them forever to get back to her place. Impatient, he had begun his teasing before they had even reached the first stoplight away from Crash. When they finally reached her apartment, they were deadlocked in each other's arms. This was the way it was supposed to be. They were perfect together.
A rather ugly, triumphant smile crossed her face at the memory. Then Minette heard it. Faint, breathless, and rock-solid. It wasn't her name he sighed; it was another's. All the craving that had matured after the years turned cold in the bottom of her stomach. The constant churning of desire froze over.
None too gently, she pushed Alec off of her. He rolled to his back with stunned compliance, flailing like a fish. He didn't just...but judging by the frosty fire in Minette's eyes, he did.
"What did you say?" she asked coldly, unbelieving. He was finally going to be hers, and he just...it was unthinkable.
Wordlessly, he spun to his side, sizing up his companion. Flushed, panting for breath, curves the goddess Venus would be envious over: there was no good reason why he shouldn't want her. And yet. He closed his eyes, wistfully eager for just one moment of obscurity, emptiness.
It didn't come.
Exploding memories reflected off of all sides of his brain, like a tiny beam of light first catching the maze of mirrors. One tiny image made way for several, each more disloyal to the spot he was laying than the last. The memories overflowed; harsh but necessary, ugly but glorious. One face remained constant, in many a display of emotions. Did it always have to come back to her, of all people?
He wasn't supposed to be here. With one last, fleeting glance to his companion, he rose from the bed. Turning his face away he grabbed his discarded shirt that landed on the lampshade, the shoes from the floor. Walking - for the first time that night, with a real purpose - out the door, he hustled down the stairs, away from Minette's apartment. He needed to be going fast or up high to truly sort his thoughts. He didn't feel like racing around Seattle and battling with the Sector Police and their ridiculous restrictions tonight. Gunning his engines, he turned his Ninja towards the Space Needle.
He never actually did answer Minette's question. She knew what he said and so did he.
Lying next to one of the sexiest, most beautiful women in the world, he moaned the name of his loathed wife.
Go figure.
*****
To turn around or not to turn around, that was the question.
Max felt his presence behind her, the eyes boring into her back, rarely glancing away, and only when the night below cried out in pain. A siren from the Sector Police went off; the eyes moved away. The distant alarm of a museum sounded across the dimly lit horizon; the eyes moved away. Luckily for Max, the city was freely voicing all complaints tonight, because Alec had yet to drop the majority of his training. Always alert, always investigating. Every time the oppressive eyes moved away, she felt she could breathe.
Max was sad. Beyond sad, she was miserable. Yes, she and Alec did have an agreement with their dating statuses, which is what the entire marriage was about. But at the same time, seeing Alec sliding lips with Minette and knowing that he slept with her had put her in an inexplicable funk of melancholy and chaos, rolled together in a hostile muddle. Heavy on the "hostile". Max knew how she would react if she were to say anything, do anything. Depression would convert into confusion, which would convert in anger. Anger was not a plus at this point in time. As great as it would be to do something irrational and completely vent her anger in the process, she would say something to hurt Alec. For all of his facade of immunity, he was actually very fragile. And Max knew a number of Achilles'' heels that Alec possessed.
But Minette, of all people?
Was Max disappointed in him? Undoubtedly.
Hurt? Possibly.
Jealous? Max refused to even answer the question, on general principle.
Minette? The name ran in her mind over and over again, accompanied by several choice images. While she personally would spit on the woman's grave, she knew Minette was just her husband's type. Beautiful. Bold. Smart. Beautiful. Sexy. Cunning. Beautiful.
But the most troublesome thought of the entire evening was...why did Max care? She was determined not to care. It would go against her newfound theory: She wasn't meant to fall in love. It wasn't some twisted logic because she was a genetically enhanced super soldier, trained not to fall in love. She had too many other things to worry about. Even though the "Transgenic Problem" had been neatly cleared over, there were a few small storms now and then that had to be fought. And Max was the spokesperson. And even if there wasn't the whole transgenic deal going on, it was about time she declared herself as a free, independent, and single woman. Her chin tilted up in pride at the thought, and she allowed herself a small nod. Yes, she was through with men. She was free, independent...
...and married.
Details, details. The divorce would be finalized in a few months' time, anyway.
Minette had Alec. Alec had Minette. Logan had Asha. Asha had Logan.
Max had Max.
"I don't need Alec," she said to herself, forgetting her company and his hypersensitive hearing. A shadow stiffened in the background. She continued so quietly that she didn't even hear it herself, much less the offended silhouette. "I don't need Logan. I don't need anybody."
Suddenly less sure of herself, she glanced down at the source of one of her many afflictions.
Her wedding ring was as polished as ever, with the exception of a few grease stains tainting the rim. Max frowned down at her shackle; she really should have taken it off when working on the Ninja. She slipped the ring off of her finger, inspecting the grit crusting the outside in the dismal glow of the Seattle skyline. Scratching off some of the grime with her fingernail, she almost involuntarily chucked the ring over the fringe of the Space Needle - not to mention herself - when she heard his voice suddenly right behind her ear ask cryptically, "You're not really going to toss that are you?"
*****
To speak or not to speak, that was the question.
Alec must have stood their for a good thirty minutes; his eyes boring into her back, willing to make her turn around and willing her to not move a muscle at the same time. See? This was why Alec hated this marriage. Max had him so confused, he didn't even know whether he wanted her to spin around or stay still. And that's the simple stuff, not to mention the tougher stuff. Should he try to cheer her up when she was blue? Should he play the jesting rake or the sincere comrade? And most importantly, should he grant her a divorce when the time was up?
It was stuff like that. He felt so inept to make decisions constantly, even military ones at times, where his expertise outweighed hers by a good ten years. Constantly second-guessing himself, Alec would try to decide if Max would agree with his decisions. And the worst part was, if he thought she wouldn't like it, he'd occasionally adjust the plan. He would change the plan on something he thought would upset a person who wouldn't even know the existence of his operation. WHY?
But Alec knew why. It finally dawned on him, sitting at the stoplight of South Market and Grand. She got under his skin; the same skin he had spent so many long, hard years trying to keep untouched.
And she didn't just "touch" his skin, no that was too simple for let's-complicate-everything-so-I-can-feel-suitably-guilty Max. Max waltzed up, found an old battle scar, ripped it open, and peered inside like some deranged physician. Not even a real physician, more like a pre-med kid. She didn't know anything, but she tried to fix it anyway. Then she had the nerve to feel bad when he winced at the ripping open of an already healed wound. Well, it wasn't quite healed, but it was on its way. Sort of. Maybe. Either way, it was none of her business, thank you very much. He had every intention of telling her that, and he even did. Occasionally.
He was just so riled by her sometimes he didn't know whether to embrace her or flatten the girl on her fanny.
Max was just so frustrating and obnoxious and hoity-toity and...
...Alec was a fool.
A fool in love.
With Max.
God help us all.
Well he sure wasn't going to tell her. She had Logan, he thought with a sneer. Bile rose in the back of Alec's throat. There was nothing to be done. Max had Logan. Logan had Max. Alec had Alec. According to Max's sketch of Alec's character, that would be all he needed. Alec was narcissistic and rude and arrogant.
Then he heard it, soft and confident.
"I don't need Alec."
Not that he would ever expect Max to admit her undying love for him in any way. Though the drama suited her type, bestowing her love on his "unworthy" self would be too much to ask. The words hit Alec like a physical blow, causing him to stagger back a step.
`I don't need Alec.' Alec may have been a lovesick fool, but he was no idiot. He had learned to speak `Max' quiet fluently and he knew how it worked. `I don't need Alec' meant `I don't want Alec.' `I don't want Alec' meant `I don't like Alec.' And Max was a very passionate person. Either she loved you or she hated you. `I don't like Alec' meant `I hate Alec.'
He had said those words to himself over and over again for the past few years. Anytime he screwed up and she glowered, or even when he did well and she barely smiled, he reminded himself of the phrase. "She hates you." He had whispered it to himself over and over, becoming his personal mantra. Alec knew she hated him in his head, it was just that the heart - though fragile - was just so dang persistent. His brain had been warning him all these years, trying to thwart the calamity, but his heart had dared to hope. Somewhere deep inside the very bottom of his heart, the remotest part, where no person had ever been, - not even Rachel - Max had touched. Touched, caressed, stroked, pummeled - whatever she did, Max had done it all to well. Max had lit a very tiny, very crucial candle in his soul. While the flame inside showed all of his grim Shadows, it bestowed the Light as well. And with Light had come Hope...
...suddenly smashed.
On closer look, he saw Max remove the ring from her finger, broodingly glowering at it. She raised it high enough to catch one last look before casting it over the edge of the Space Needle. Coincidence? Alec didn't think so. Determined not to be the brunt of a brush-off - no matter how symbolic -, he crossed the space between them and masked his voice in something "light" asking, "You're not really going to toss that are you?"
*****
Minette rested on her bed, staring at the doorway where Alec had meandered out mere minutes earlier. It was inconceivable, simply inconceivable. From flicker to inferno, she had so diligently built up that man for over five years, only to be dispelled by a puff, a name.
Max.
Growling, Minette flopped down face first on her bed. Disgusted by the bitter taste of defeat flooded her mouth, she quickly spit on the floor. It was galling to contemplate, much less admit - but it was true.
It was over.
Minette was actually quite shocked that her heart wasn't quite broken at the thought. Sure, her pride was on a self-righteous fire, lost in the common "How dare he?" and "What nerve!" But at the same time, she wasn't all that broken about it.
It was over.
Fine, Minette was strong and there was plenty of fish in the sea. One dead cod wasn't going to destroy her day.
The shocking thing was that something else infuriated Minette more than Alec's unwitting confession of love for Max. That part of her wounded pride was pretty much mended by his assessment. He knew he should want her, it was just that the little wife got in the way. No something much worse settled in the back of her mind, steadily working its way to the forefront - like her steadily increasing pressure on the vase in her hand. Accepting another calamitous thought, Minette flung the vase against the wall in a fit of rage, satisfied by the dusty crash.
Max would have her Disney-style happy ending.
Minette was no fool. It was blatantly obvious to everyone but Max and Alec that they loved each other. Alec was coming to terms with it, so would Max eventually - but only after many a dramatic sighs. That thought scourged her pride the most. It wasn't really anything personal; Minette just couldn't stand the girl. Her eyes glazed over the apartment blankly until she spotted her salvation - or maybe it was her Black Book, the lights were seductively dim.
Alec's jacket. Minette's eyes gleamed in appreciation for his forgetfulness. Lost in his own thoughts and rush, he had left it behind.
Perfect.
Even though Max stood a better chance at winning the main man eventually, it would be a personal honor to destroy her - even if only for a short while. Give Max back the jacket, a few veiled remarks, and watch the girl crumble. It would be perfect. Knowing Max's uptight morals it could be quite sometime - if ever - before she trusted Alec again.
Perfect.
*****
"You're not really going to toss that are you?"
Much to her personal humiliation, Max must have leaped a good six inches in the air. Feigning he didn't just catch her forehead in his chin, Alec sat down next to her - entirely too close for any degree of comfort, for either party. Turning his head to watch the now inanimate horizon, he used his other senses to gauge her feelings. Her heart rate had skyrocketed - not too surprising when she had almost pulled a triple flip off of the Space Needle - and was now returning to normal, almost. Her breathing was irregular - also probably due to her near acrobatics.
Wary to the point of insanity, Max amused herself by peeling the last bits of grease off of her ring. Putting it back on with all the grace she could muster in her frantic state - like a drugged elephant trying to walk a tightrope. All the peanuts on the opposing platform couldn't settle her jumpy nerves. Alec noticed her shakiness and for once decided to refrain from saying something witty, no matter how tempting it might have been. It wouldn't really be fair anyway; he was just as wobbly as she was. The heat from their bodies bounced back and forth between them like frenetic sound waves. The last time they were so close together was in the hotel room, Alec subconsciously shivered at the thought.
It was best not to say anything. Talking would lead to arguing. While they were both looking for a fight, they were also incredibly reluctant to throw the first punch. It was almost heady, the scent of upcoming skirmish, dancing around in two sets of nostrils.
Their next clash would be a doozy; and they were both terrified of it. Who knows what they would confess under the pressure? In their silence they tried to stall the coming storm, settling for at least the temporary stillness. The rising barometric pressure was palpable, the calm was deceiving.
The hurricane began its rage the next day.