Thanks so much to all those who've reviewed – the feedback means a great deal to me!

My thanks to Alaidh for finding the time to beta this for me – an expert and amusing job as usual!

A/N: The lines with asterisks denote lines I've taken from an original draft script for BBWW. I thought it would be interesting to add them as it shows the writer's original ideas on what Zack would have said to Max.

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CHAPTER 7

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Dawn - the delicate time of promise and wild hope that one clung to precariously before it was, in all probability, seared by the reality of the coming post-Pulse day.

Sometimes, even Max dared to hope as she watched the first tentative approaches of the new day from the Space Needle.

Was it wrong to hope that maybe her screwed-up life would somehow make sense?

How often had she wondered this as she watched the invasion of light gradually sweep across the sky, forcing the darkness to slink off in disgrace.

Here in the forest, the birth of the new day was even more intense, more captivating, more startlingly clear as her razor-sharp senses detected each fresh nuance through the filmy grey of earliest morning.

He was waiting for her.

She had known this time with certainty that he would be there.

The slight swirls of mist that dared to linger as sunrise approached gave the hill an almost gothic, eerie impression as it hovered wraithlike around the solitary remains of the homestead chimney and brushed a wispy arm over the embossed angel and the names of those it now fruitlessly protected.

He was dressed completely in black, but his fair head was uncovered. He leant against the monument to the dead children quite irreverently. Max wondered if he'd even read it – and if he had, would he have cared? Manticore didn't teach you to mourn unknown children who had died nearly one hundred years previously.

Manticore hadn't even let them mourn children who had died in front of their very eyes.

She could tell by something in his attitude that he knew she was there. She wondered why he didn't look at her, speak to her, maybe comment about the weather. After all, this whole thing was his deal.

How like Zack to remain almost insolently silent.

Max approached without a word until she was standing in front of him. Only then did he raise his head.

"Got your note," she murmured with a shrug, standing in front of him, one hand on her hip, as if she'd just walked over to him from the opposite corner of a room.

Cold, blue eyes examined her impassively. "I never expected you wouldn't."

Max noted the way his breath vaporised slightly in the cold, morning air as if he'd been smoking a cigarette. Instantly, she ridiculed her own thought -she couldn't imagine Zack ever smoking. She strongly suspected that, in spite of himself, he'd have way too much respect for the finely tuned body he'd been given to trash it with nicotine.

Max's eyes swept the clearing vigilantly, even though she knew Zack would have done as much. Her vision was piercingly accurate regardless of the pale grey, murky light that leant a surreal quality to their rendezvous.

"Why all the cloak and dagger stuff?" she asked.

Zack's eyes never left her face. "I wanted to be sure that the site was secured, that you weren't followed." After an almost imperceptible pause he added, "That you'd be alone."

Max waved a hand, before returning it to her hip. "Looks like we scored big on all of the above."

Zack drew a breath. "Not quite."

Max's eyes narrowed. She'd left Logan alone back there. If the site wasn't secure… "What d'you mean?" she asked sharply.

"You brought him with you." His tone was flat save for the slight stress he placed on the second pronoun.

"Actually, Logan brought me," she countered, relieved that this was all he meant, but decidedly annoyed by his tone. "Which was just as well or I would've been hanging around this campground for two nights with no way to camp. If you recall, your rendezvous was for yesterday morning," she reminded him tartly.

"Is this what you do, Max? You get your boyfriend involved in our business?"

"I told you before, he knows everything about me…and he's not my boyfriend."

XX "For a non-boyfriend, he's certainly extended himself on your behalf," mocked Zack.

Max stared at him, perplexed and angry with his manner. "What has Logan got to do with your no-show yesterday morning?"

"I had to be sure that you had your head in the game. What was I to think, Max?"

Max shook her head, knowing that she shouldn't be surprised by his attitude, but disappointed with it nonetheless. Does he have to be so suspicious of everyone…Logan…even me?

"What game?" she spat out. "The only game I'm interested in is the one to get Brin back. That is why you contacted me…isn't it Zack?"

If he found those flashing, brown eyes disconcerting, he gave no appearance. "The trail's cold. I have no intel on Brin."

Max stared at him with astonishment, vaguely aware of the surge of disappointment that flooded over her. "If it's not about Brin, then what the hell was this all about?" she stormed.

"It's all about you, Max," was the quiet reply.

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Logan stared blankly at the gun Max had left by his side, vaguely noting the metallic zzzrrrrrr as Max zipped the flap of the tent closed from her side before disappearing into the darkness of pre-dawn.

The intensity of the dream still clung to his mind. He'd begun to hate his dreams. They were too real, too vivid, too…everything, he thought bleakly.

Even as he tried to forget it, his mind taunted him with the thought – what would it really be like to kiss Max?

"Something you'll never know, Logan," he told himself flatly as he reached forward and picked up the flashlight Max had left turned on by his side next to the gun.

Trying to remember where he'd stashed his bag before slumping exhaustedly onto the air mattress the previous night, Logan shone the beam around the car's interior. His bag wasn't where he'd remembered leaving it. Instead it was now within arms reach by his side and, to his surprise as well, he found his previously wet clothes from yesterday now dried and folded more or less neatly on top of it.

"Someone's been busy," he muttered to himself as he pulled back his sleeping bag and prepared to dress. He had no clear idea of what he was going to accomplish by getting up at such an unseemly hour – he couldn't remember the last time he'd been up so early that he'd had to get dressed while it was still dark. It just didn't feel right to lie in bed while Max was at her rendezvous. He'd decided that he wasn't going to let Max down and, if by some strange occurrence she needed his help, he intended to be ready. Besides, Zack was up at this hour, so, if for no better reason than that, he decided that he would be too.

Once he got moving, his aches and pains from the previous day seemed to subside, which was a relief. It was freezing outside the tent, eerily silent and dark. Having lowered himself into his chair, he quickly reached back into the car for his warm jacket and gloves, thankful for the added warmth as he pulled them on. For a moment, an image of his apartment appeared in his mind. It would be blissfully warm even at this hour of the morning, regardless of the cold outside, aglow with its soft light, steam rising in the bathroom from the heat of the shower, the aroma of coffee brewing in the kitchen, maybe the smell of toast cooking as he booted up his computer.

"Logan, you're getting soft," he reprimanded himself as he wheeled over to the table and lit the gas lantern.

Looking around, he could see that Max had been busy out here, too. With raised eyebrows, Logan noticed that the water container was now half full and a sign made from a scrap of paper read 'boiled water', and the cooler that she'd put in the car last night to discourage raccoons, was once again sitting on the ground next to the table.

It looked like his theory of not having to ask her for help seemed to be working - maybe a little too well. He'd never intended for her to anticipate his every need, even worse, spend time considering all the things he was now unable to do without some assistance. With a dark frown he picked up Max's 'boiled water' sign, scrunched it into a ball and threw it several feet into the darkness.

"Oh my God! Help me! Please...please..."

Startled, Logan turned suddenly and squinted in the direction of the voice. The rest of the sentence dissolved into an unintelligible garble, punctuated by something that sounded like a series of harsh sobs.

This time Logan wasted no time whatsoever in grabbing his gun from the back of the car as the voice came steadily closer.

He was only just in time. Even as he raised it to point it in the direction of the voice, the speaker materialized from the surrounding darkness and stumbled towards him.

Realising that the gun would be useless, Logan tossed it into his lap so that he could use both hands to grab onto the shoulders of the figure now virtually slumped at his feet, still crying out incoherently even as she tried to pull away from him and stand. "You've gotta come...come," she screamed at him, eyes that were wild with some unknown terror half-hidden by her dishevelled hair.

"Lucy...what is it?" he asked her in a firm, measured tone that was totally at odds with her own hysteria.

"It's Poggs. He's not moving or breathing," she choked out fearfully. "I think he's dead."

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Max's eyes never left Zack's face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I got some intel Max - something's goin' down in Seattle. I want you outta there."

"Lydecker?" Max queried sharply.

Zack's blue eyes locked with hers. "Maybe."

"Maybe? You brought me all the way up here on a maybe?"

Zack's face hardened, but he kept his voice level and controlled. "You need to trust me in this, Max."

Max closed her eyes and looked away as disappointment flooded her soul. All this while she'd been hoping...had convinced herself that Zack had a scheme to rescue Brin.

"He knows you're in Seattle now. I've got a feeling he's gonna try something," Zack continued persuasively.

His words barely registered with Max - all she could see was Brin lying on her lap in the car, her face already horribly aged and withered like an old hag in one of Grimm's Fairytales. "I don't want to die. Please...don't let me die."

"We promised her, Zack," was all she could get out. To have found Brin then to have lost her so quickly was a bitter pill to swallow, as was her guilt that she should have found a way to save her…tried harder.

"You think I don't remember that?" Zack retorted sharply. "I haven't given up on her, but I need to make sure that you're safe. Lydecker knows what you look like now!"

"That's what Logan said, too," she murmured distractedly, still staring unseeingly at the gradually emerging outlines of the trees as the mist and darkness began to lift.

Zack's eyes narrowed at the mention of that name.

XX "So, this non-boyfriend of yours... is he in love with you or something?"

"No," Max responded flatly, Zack's words causing her to quickly turn her full attention back to her brother. She met his gaze unflinchingly as he studied her with cool appraisal.

XX "That's not the take away I'm getting."

XX "Logan's not that stupid...or that reckless. And anyway, it's not something I'd ever let happen."

"Well, you seemed happy enough the last few days...running around playing Girl Scout for him. Seems to me like he's got you wrapped around his little finger...fetching water, collecting wood, making fires..."

Max's face reddened. "What I do is none of your business."

"I make it my business if what you do is gonna get you captured by Lydecker. I lost Brin - I don't aim to lose you as well."

"Do you make it your business by spying on me?" Max spat out, angry and embarrassed to learn that he'd been watching her all that time. "Why didn't you just contact me as soon as you saw me?"

"Like I said, I needed to be sure that your head was in the game," Zack reiterated, but this time Max felt instinctively that his words didn't quite ring true. Somewhere, a vague suspicion began to form in her mind.

"A dawn rendezvous, miles from Seattle, rough terrain…it's all beginning to add up," she murmured wonderingly. "It's the one place you figured Logan wouldn't come," she told him, her words becoming surer with each sentence. "You knew about the deaths here, didn't you? They were another reason you figured I'd never bring Logan up here. Only thing is, Logan never dropped the knowledge on me about whack things goin' on. Guess he figured the same way you did, huh," she finished ironically.

Zack shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you alone," he admitted, "Away from other…influences."

There was no apology in his tone, no embarrassment at being caught out. She saw only the same ruthlessness she'd seen when he admitted to killing Vogelsang. For a split second, a chilling thought entered her mind - just how far would he go to achieve his end? It was a remote spot…there was no one around…if Logan were to disappear…

Hey, Max, this is Zack you're talking about, she cut in on the insidious thought harshly, not Lydecker!

"I was hoping to talk some sense into you," Zack pressed on. "You can't go on like this, Max. While you've got your head in the sand about leaving Seattle, Lydecker'll have your ass."

"It's my head, my ass and my life," she retorted. "So, I guess you were hoping Logan'd just drive back to Seattle and leave me here when you didn't show yesterday morning?"

Zack ignored her question. "If you're weak and stay in Seattle because of him, you're gonna end up dead or caught like Brin."

XX "It's a weakness to want to be happy?" she asked incredulously.

XX "If the price is getting killed or captured, yeah, it's a weakness."

Max spoke softly, but with purpose. "I thought we left Manticore to get away from that kinda talk."

"Max, I can't help you if you won't obey my commands."

Max just looked at him with bemusement. "I stopped obeying 'commands' the night we left that hellhole."

"That's it then, Maxie?" Zack finally asked, with a touch of bitterness, after a long pause.

"I guess it is," she replied, her face as set as his.

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The sun had continued to rise with an irreverent disregard for those who faced life changing decisions and traumatic circumstances, and for those who breathed their first breath or took their very last that morning.

Max took one final look at Zack as he stood in the clearing. He watched her departure with a cold stare that was at such odds to the bright cheeriness of the sun's rays that touched his head, making his dark blond hair look even fairer.

With a sigh, Max headed down the steep part of the sloping path. She hadn't wanted to make Zack unhappy, well, angry was probably closer to the mark, she admitted.

This Zack was a stranger to her. He wasn't the one she'd envisaged meeting all those times over so many past lonely years. She wondered what upset him most - was he angry because he felt that she was putting herself in danger or because she wasn't following his orders? Then there was his attitude to her friendship with Logan. Is he totally whack? Hasn't he ever made any friends, in all this time, over all these years?

Can't he ever get away from Manticore's shadow?

A mirthless grin crossed her face as the irony of the situation struck her.

Both Zack and Logan knew there was some flake on the loose up here, both fed me some half-assed yarn, both figured I'd never have had Logan tag along if I'd had the 411 but they both figured I'd do the meet by myself even if I'd heard about anyone getting greased up here. To top it all off, they both think they've got my back! Right, like I need it!

She took a deep breath. It was proving hard to convince her head that she was satisfied with the outcome of her meet with Zack, so she purposefully turned her thoughts to other matters. Logan. Instinctively she quickened her pace.

There was nothing to keep her here now – they could break camp and head home. Home – the word sounded nice, warm, welcoming. Logan could get back to his computers and perfectly appointed apartment, including his perfectly appointed kitchen. He can cook me dinner when we get back to make up for holding out on me, she decided with a dark look.

She continued down the path until she came out at the main camping area. It was deserted, as it had been since their arrival. The fluorescent light still shed it's ugly, white light in the dank toilets when she stopped in there on her way back to their campsite. She looked longingly at the rusty showerheads. Obviously no hot water had been available here for a long time. While she washed her hands, a mouse scurried out from behind one of the pipes by her feet and into a deep crack in the brick wall. Max ignored it, instead staring at her distorted reflection in the piece of shiny metal that was meant to pass for a vandal-proof mirror. Many people had told her she was beautiful, but today she could only remember two remarks - They did a good job on you, Max/ the singularly most beautiful face I've ever seen.

Which words meant the most, she wondered, those of the soldier or the playboy?

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"Logan?" Max called out when she got back to the Aztek.

She was a little surprised to find his chair nowhere in sight, knowing that she'd left it by the back of the car for him.

A quick look inside their tent revealed it to be empty, as she'd expected. She also noted that his cargo pants were no longer in the pile of dry clothing she'd left on his bag, the flashlight was nowhere to be seen, and the gun was gone.

Within seconds she jumped down from the back of the SUV, and turned her attention to the still dewy grass. She could clearly make out two sets of footprints approaching their tent and one set clearly came from a car that had been parked close to the Aztek only recently.

Without any doubt, next to the footprints, were wheel marks from Logan's chair.

Max immediately followed them, a puzzled frown on her face. She had to suppose that Logan had gone willingly – the footprints were next to his chair, not behind it. Her frown deepened, however, as she considered the possibility that someone could have been holding a gun on him.

A glimpse of white on the ground had her reaching down and picking up a scrunched up piece of paper that looked very familiar.

"Dammit, Logan. Just what are you up to now?"

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To be continued.