Disclaimer: Need I say it again? Not mine, never will be. This story, however, is an entirely different kettle of fish.
A/N: Many thanks to alaidh for the beta…she beta the Aussie out of me pretty darn good, lol. More thanks to cathderder for her beta as well. Many thanks to everyone who reviewed. To say I was totally blown away by the response is an understatement.
Chapter 2
Logan was grimly determined as he slowly drove the battered Aztek along the potholed track to its final destination. The circuitous route seemed to have taken him in a complete circle around the small town in which he was staying, judging by the direction of the setting sun. He felt some remorse at not having filled Max in about where he was going and who he was meeting, but he also firmly believed it was for her own good. She'd have worried more if he told her the truth – or insisted on coming – which was even worse. "No, I did the right thing." He argued furiously with the devil on his shoulder. "Anyway, it's too late to worry about it now."
"Call her," the devil answered back.
"No, it's too late. I'm…there…"
He slowed the car to a stop outside a battered barn-like structure and turned off the engine. He waited a few minutes, checking the place out from his seat, before opening the door of the car and getting out.
*~*~*~
Alec waited impatiently in the car outside what seemed to be an old clothing store on Melbourne Avenue. He could barely see Max through a filthy window as she reached up to hug a huge bear of a man who seemed to be wearing, of all things, an old Jam Pony cap. No way…he can't be an old messenger. He shrugged and slid down further in the seat of his borrowed car, not concerned. He considered it none of his business what Max did with her free time, even when she dragged him along with her.
*~*~*~
"Jam Pony delivery!" Max called out from the shop counter. "Got a package here for a Break!"
"Just a minute!" a deep voice called back. There was a crash and a muffled, "Damn!" Max grinned and looked around her. The shop was a clutter of shelves full of shoes and bric-a-brac, and stands of old clothes. She was pleased to see that Break hadn't changed his political alliances. There was still a poster in his front window protesting something or other. "Ban the Bomb…Land Rights for Gay Whales…whatever," she mused, barely under her breath.
"Hey! Girl's tryin' to earn a living here!" she called out impatiently.
"All right, coming." A burly giant dressed in a suit and tie came out, dusting his sleeves down, an old Jam Pony cap firmly clamped to his head. He looked at Max and recognition slowly dawned. "Max?" he queried in wonder.
"Up close and personal," she responded, with a smile.
He came round the counter with surprising agility for such a big man and enveloped her in a hug. "You said something about a package. I take it you don't mean the one you're wearing around your middle."
"Hardly," Max responded dryly. She handed over the package. "I wanted to give this to you personally and to say thank you for what you did that day. Need a signature as well," she said, handing over a small clipboard. He scribbled in the spot she indicated and handed it back to her.
Break looked over his shoulder as a tall, slim guy with light brown hair came out of the back room and smiled at her without recognition. Max knew who he was, however, even out of uniform. Break gestured with his eyes, and the guy disappeared back into the rear of the shop.
"Aw, honey, you don't have to thank me. Not every day I help a successful escape from Langford."
"Well…you and a couple of others," she said smiling. "I had a bit of…outside assistance."
Break nodded, "Right."
"Anyway…thanks."
"And you're not going to tell me about this," he gestured at her, "Because it's none of my business."
"Let's just say I had some outside assistance with that, too," she smiled.
"Right."
"Anyway, you're not the only one I helped escape that place." Break looked over his shoulder.
Max nodded an understanding response. "Anyway, thanks."
"You're welcome." Break looked at her consideringly. He went over to a rack of shelves and rummaged for a few moments, bringing out a cellophane-wrapped parcel. "Present for Junior." He said.
"That's not necessary."
"No, but I'm doing it anyway."
"Thanks."
"Take care of yourself, Max."
She hugged him again and left the shop. Max noisily opened the door of the car, waking Alec who had slid so far down in the seat that his head was barely visible above the window frame and had dropped into a light doze. "Home, James."
"Hmm? Oh, sure, Max."
"Some watchdog you'd make," she said sarcastically. "Sleeping on the job like that."
"Whatever."
*~*~*~
Logan cautiously pushed open the door of the barn, gun ready, and entered in. "I'm here."
There was a noise from the shadows, and a man slowly appeared from the gloom. "You're alone?" he asked. There was surprise in his voice.
"What do you want, Lydecker?"
"Where's Max?"
"What, you think I'd bring her so you can get your hands on her for your little army? Not a chance."
"Or maybe you have another reason…"
Logan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He raised the gun a fraction higher.
"Like, maybe…" Lydecker let the sentence hang, seeing the tension building in Logan. He gave a grim laugh before continuing. "No matter. It's your skills I need. Put the gun down. I'm unarmed." Lydecker held his arms out from his side in a demonstration of innocence. Logan didn't waver. He maintained his stance.
"To repeat my first question: what do you want?"
"Your help."
"And if I don't want to give it?"
"You're free to go." Lydecker paused. "But you might want to stay and listen to what I have to say."
*~*~*~
Max walked into the kitchen of the deserted apartment and dumped her backpack and keys on one of the counters, then hoisted herself up on the stool and sat there idly for a moment. The total silence was a little unnerving. Most days, there was at least the whirr of the computers to break the quiet – the sound of Logan working away at the keyboard – even background noise from the TV as it broadcast from some news channel at low volume. Today, there was nothing. It was too quiet. Max, who had been so self-sufficient in the past, found herself wanting companionship. It scared her a little to feel so alone. She wasn't used to it. While having numerous friends and acquaintances, she had never really needed them, as such. She could survive quite nicely on her own, thank you very much. This was a new thing to her. It was a little frightening – a combination of having become accustomed to having Logan around all the time, unlike her flat-mates, who had often come and gone with no regard for time or conformity – and of being just a little afraid of the future. Having a baby. Me? Who'd'a thunk? She'd had nearly eight months to get used to the idea now, but it still scared her a little…no…it scared her a lot. There were too many "what ifs". Max sighed, more than a little exasperated with herself. What the hell is the matter with me? I'm afraid of my own shadow today.
She pulled the cellphone out of her pack and looked at it thoughtfully – the one she'd been too lazy to fetch from the locker and use earlier in the day to call Alec – or maybe it was just that she didn't want Logan to know that she'd asked Alec for help. Logan still occasionally showed signs of jealousy around Alec. It was unjustified and he knew it, but it was still safer to keep the two of them in separate compartments of her life. If Logan wanted to talk to Alec, then it was up to him to do so. On that basis, they got along fine. It was when Max tried to bring them together that things seemed to deteriorate. Three was definitely a crowd – as it had been with Zack in the not-so-distant past. "Jesus, Max. You are so slippin'. Since when have you been such a wimp." To her surprise, she found herself saying the words out loud.
Leaving the phone on the counter, she pulled out of her backpack the package given to her by Break. She looked at it thoughtfully wondering where Break had gotten hold of it. The package was pre-gift-wrapped in wrinkled cellophane that had obviously been opened and resealed at some stage in its lifetime. She slid a finger under the scotch-tape at one end and pried the cellophane up. She pulled out the contents, then tore open the plastic wrap. She pulled out a yellow baby romper suit with fluffy blue ducks marching across the front. For some reason, the little ducks made her laugh out loud, and she got an answering kick from the baby. Rubbing the side of her "bump" ruefully, she chuckled, looking down, "Guess that means you like it too."