A/N: acb: silly girl! (I'm just assuming you're a girl here, forgive me.) I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with the demon stuff, it just sounded so good I had to put it in. Other parts of the prophecies from Countdown would have worked better, stuff about the "Chosen One" and such, but I don't have all of them. (If anyone does know where I could find the text of the prophecies from Daniel Parker's Countdown series that would be greatly appreciated.) In response to the rest of your review (thank you for the review, BTW, it's always good to hear from you): I'd like to know more of White's thoughts on Max too, the problem is, I suck at writing from a man's point of view…proof once again that I really don't understand men. Mahida: Sorry! How was I supposed to know it was you? Alright, so you gave me a big hint, you know I'm oblivious!
They've been in the closet for almost six hours, and it's getting tiresome. They haven't spoken since the deal, except when White occasionally asks her if she can still hear the Meekers in the rest of the building. His hearing is good enough to pick up every sound the guards at the end of the hall make, but the Meekers farther out than that are beyond his range.
Every time he asks, she says yes.
They're still out there.
"Christians," White sighs. "They never fucking know when to quit."
Max smiles slightly, distracted. She's still not entirely sure she did the right thing in telling White that Ray might have died from the test. She would be sure, ordinarily. She was trained to deceive the enemy, after all. It's just logical.
So why does she feel so guilty?
Lost in her own thoughts, Max has stopped listening for the Meekers, so it's White who hears them first. He holds up a hand for her attention, and they both freeze perfectly still, listening.
"Alright," one of the Meekers who seems to be in charge is saying, "Alpha team will stay here and occupy the building, teams Beta and Gamma will spread out to search the surrounding buildings, we know at least one of them was hurt," White snarls silently, "Teams Delta and Epsilon go back to base, get some rest. We'll rotate teams in and out until we find them."
There's a general lifting of spirits in the hall, the majority of the Meekers are tired of this search. Max and White look at each other; tired enemies are good enemies.
As the Meekers mill around out in the hall, White motions her closer.
"Less guards," he murmurs to her, "decent shot at making it out without further injury."
Max rolls her eyes at him. She's already thought of this. White glares back and they both move to crouch near the door, waiting until the sounds of voices and footsteps fade enough that the hall is probably clear before easing the door open and slipping out.
Max strangles one Meekers guard into unconsciousness, and White breaks the necks of the two covering the door, but otherwise they make it to the outside without major incident.
For some reason, the possibility of splitting up, or turning on each other, hasn't occurred to either of them. They're working together.
They bothtry very hard not to think about that.
Once they hit the street, however, their little streak of luck goes sideways with severe consequences.
They've managed to reach a part of the sidewalk where traffic is light, but there are still people around to blend with. Not that White blends particularly well in his three hundred dollar suit and Italian shoes.
At least he's not wearing a tie.
Unfortunately, there are a few Meekers wandering through the alleyways, looking carefully at all the people. This wouldn't be much of a problem, except that the three Meekers working their way through the crowd towards the edge where Max and White stand, were part of the little scuffle in the parking garage.
So they all know who they're looking for.
Max was only a soldier for the first nine years of her life, but she's been trained for this. She knows several solutions to this scenario, and right off the top of her head she can think of one that would work perfectly. White probably knows it too; if he was trained to work undercover, by the NSA or by the Conclave, he'll know what she's thinking.
Which is probably why he's not looking at her.
After a moment of watching the Meekers slowly work their way closer, White sighs. "No way out of here without going past them," he says, reluctantly.
Max and White look at each other.
"No real alternative," he says, almost apologetically.
Max swallows hard, and nods decisively at him.
They move slowly into the entrance of the dead-end alley that opens onto the street, never taking their eyes off each other. Max wonders if her face is as apprehensive as White's, and decides it probably is. What the hell is she doing?
Max cuts off the thought. The only way she'll be able to do this, is if she doesn't think about it. Doesn't think about what they're about to do.
White squares his shoulders, as if preparing to walk straight into a barrage of machine gun fire, and backs her up against the wall.
He puts one hand lightly on her hip, and stops, staring at her. His eyes are wide and a little confused, and so are hers, but Max lifts her chin, and White tilts his head, and he kisses her.
It starts out as just a ploy to fool the Meekers: a business executive with a wife and a family back in the suburbs fooling around with a local girl, nothing to be suspicious of.
It doesn't stay that way.
She doesn't intend to, but Max finds herself arching into the kiss, and White shifts the angle slightly, and slides one hand into her hair to hold her head in place, and Max opens her mouth under his.
The first brush of his tongue sends shock waves through both of them. Suddenly the kiss is harder, deep and hot, and they're crushed together, not a centimeter between them anywhere.
White bites her lip and Max, entirely unthinking, moans into his mouth and slides her hands up along his back to hook over his shoulders.
It's not just a ploy. It's something much, much more, and it goes on too long.
When they finally come up for air, they can only stare at each other, completely shocked. It's like time has suddenly started up again, and they've suddenly remembered who they are, and who they're with. It's a frozen moment of utter and absolute disbelief.
Max breaks first.
"Have they passed?" she asks, without taking her eyes off White's face.
It takes him a moment to process what she's saying.
"About ten minutes ago," he says finally.
They go back to staring, both of them struggling to find something to say, some way to explain this. Then they break apart suddenly and start walking with forced casualness toward the sector checkpoint.
For once in Max's life, the sector checkpoint is not a delay. White flashes his FBI identification and the cops fall all over themselves to cooperate.
They duck behind a building when a pair of young men pass by, walking like they're armed and wearing shirts with "Revelations 22:20" printed on the front.
They aren't seen, and when the men have gone on down the street White turns to her and says, "Well, it's been fun. As always."
Max doesn't wonder about why he isn't trying to capture her. She needs some time away from him, away from everyone, too. She has to get her head on straight. What did she just do?
She just made out with Ames White in an alleyway. And it was good.
She gives herself a swift, mental kick to the head for that thought.
Someone calls her name, hissing with urgency, and Max turns and stares across the street to find Alec and two X-6's with an old army truck. Trust Alec to come looking for her.
He motions to her, urgently. They have to get out of the sector and back to Terminal City before the next sweep. Max signals him to wait a minute, and turns to look at White, to see what his plans are.
She shouldn't have bothered. He's gone.
A/N: I've got a vague idea of where this is going now, but suggestions and ideas (if you don't feel like writing them yourself) are always welcome. Hopefully, unless something drastic goes wrong, chapter seven should be up by Sunday.