A/n: I'm going to focus a little more on the others in Max's unit for a while, but more Max and Alec and Seattle goodness to come! The usual, I don't own anything but the originals.

THIS MEANS WAR

The shrill clarion of the bell rang, signaling an end to the class. Sudden noise and motion occurred where only seconds ago silence and the soft sound of thirty-two students working on their assignment quietly had reigned. Books slammed shut, chairs were scooted back, and students found the ability to speak.

Tinga was silent as she gathered her notebook and textbook, in no rush as she slipped her pencil into the zip-up nylon pencil holder, leisurely standing up and waiting as the initial tide of her classmates momentarily clogged the hatch.

Door, she sternly amended herself. It was so easy to forget civilian terms, having never been on any missions that were not militaristic in nature and execution.

"You're Sherri, right?"

"Excuse me?" she asked. Tinga almost hadn't responded, momentarily forgetting where she was, and her alias.

"Sherri, your name, right?"

The speaker was a decent enough looking boy about her age of eleven, with a fair complexion, but his hair was dark and wavy enough that he had to have more than one ethnicity. Tinga supposed he was cute; she'd been around cute boys all her life, what was one more?

"Right," she agreed, nodding, then headed off for her locker, socializing mission accomplished.

"Hey, wait up! I'll walk you to your locker or your next class or…wherever." The boy tagged along at her side, which was something considering how crammed the Manhattan school was.

"Why?" Tinga gave him a puzzled look, feeling a frown form on her face, furrowing her brow.

"Why, what? I'm Kevin by the way," he flashed a grin at her, and Tinga merely raised her brows, deftly avoiding collision with others without conscious thought.

"Why are you…walking, with me?"

"Why wouldn't I? It's a free country, I can walk wherever I want, when I want, with whoever I want and no one can tell me otherwise," he shrugged and Tinga gave a snort.

'He wouldn't last a day with that attitude,' she chuckled inwardly to herself, amused.

"Uh-huh."

"So…where you headed?" They were separated by a spill of students, and Kevin found himself straining to see her over their heads.

"Class."

She gave a half-hearted raise of her hand and ducked into the classroom conveniently on her side of the hallway. She didn't look back and Kevin was struck dumbfounded.

He stood in the middle of the hall for a few moments, looking at the open doorway she had disappeared to until someone shoved him and rudely told him to get out of the way.

When Kevin moved on to get to his own class, Tinga popped out of the doorway, looking out to make sure Kevin wasn't around, and then walked out in the opposite direction to a class about three doors down and on the other side of the hall, seeing someone was waiting for her and making it in class just before the tardy bell rang.

She and Taz slipped into their seats, deftly avoiding the obstacles of backpacks and purses and school gear strewn about haphazardly. The teacher was in the back having a conversation with one of the other staff, so the students were quietly talking amongst themselves.

"That was a nice executed escape and evade," Taz spoke softly for our ears only. We were seated together in the back, something that we hadn't even thought about, really.

"Thank you. He was very…aggressive in his approach, and unexpected."

"Want me to 'talk' to him?" Taz growled. He had perked up and become more alert and Tinga spoke hastily.

"No, no that's okay…maybe aggressive was a bad word choice. He was…obvious and blunt. Persistent. Besides," she suddenly grinned. "I think he'll get the memo shortly."

Taz still looked doubtful, but he wasn't going to push it. She was a few hours older than he was and she never let him forget it, and wouldn't take kindly to his interference. That was okay…what she didn't know she couldn't get mad at him for. It was only a little recon.

That settled in his mind, he leaned back in his desk and paid attention, class was about to begin.


That was way too easy, both Kevin and Taz, Tinga frowned slightly, eyeing her busily writing brother suspiciously.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, lips barely moving, eyes never leaving the paper in front of him or breaking his train of thought.

"Nothing. Just…analyzing."

"Does analyzing mean you have to look at me?"

"I wasn't looking at you for real," she tried not to huff, but feeling just a tad irritated with her brother. He's planning something I can smell it.

She's onto me, he thought grimly, but it didn't change his decision. He had a job to protect his family, moreso than any prolonged exercise, and if Zack couldn't be here, than he'd take up the slack. He knew that Tinga would do the same for him.

They were both silent as they finished the writing assignment, having known and studied the grammatical rules they had just been assigned for a while now. Boredom was a tough factor to beat, but Taz was confident he'd make it through without too much trouble. It was tedious to have to pretend to still be writing or composing their thoughts while the rest of the class was not even halfway finished.

"Eye's Front," he muttered to himself, tapping idly on his desk with his pencil. He didn't even know what he was doing until Tinga hissed at him.

"You're tapping Morse Code," she growled at him under her breath.

"What?"

"You're going through all the phonetic letters in the Morse Code sequencing, Max," she hissed, rolling her eyes, and casting a look around to see if they'd been noticed.

Taz snorted at being called Max; it was well known that Max, as the telecommunications and linguistics expert of the bunch, would often tap out Morse code, or sign language, or even binary code when she was upset or thinking heavily.

Tinga stifled a chuckled but Taz heard it anyway and he sent her a death-glare she pointedly ignored and wasn't afraid of.

"Sure thing…Jace," he snarled back quietly, taking glee at seeing her posture stiffen. Being called Jace was tantamount to being called a stickler and a spoilsport, a playful insult.

"What a surprising Jack response," she responded with a mocking eyebrow.

"Oh…. this means war."

"Bring it."

"Count on it."

"I will."

"Okay, then."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Alright."

"Is the class really that boring or would you two lovebirds want to be left alone? I'm sure we could give you some privacy by sending you to ISAP."

Tinga and Taz looked up at the teacher in some surprise as the other students laughed. Mr. Bowden didn't look thrilled with his class disrupted.

"Actually…" Taz opened his mouth to begin but Tinga slapped her hand hard across his mouth.

"Actually, we apologize for letting our personal quarrels hinder the fascinating academics so skillfully taught by yourself. Please, excuse us," Tinga smiled sweetly, simpering, trying to keep Taz from talking his way into trouble.

"You're fortunate it's the second day of school and I'm in a forgiving mood. Don't let it happen again," Bowden nodded, a slight grin on his face, appeased. Not that he really minded, he wasn't that many years out of school himself, so he was a little more 'cool' and 'laidback' than his contemporaries.

"Yes, sir," she gave him a soft smile, hand still covering Taz's mouth. She could practically feel the heat of his glare and on his body as he simmered, but she also sensed his mirth.

She released her hold over her brother, receiving and returning a glare, and turned back to her work.

"Vada."

"Seth."

"Eva."

"Thank you."

With a smirk, Tinga ignored and was ignored by her brother, right until the end of class. She didn't groan when Mr. Bowden assigned them homework like many of the other kids did. Complaints of 'it's too early!' and 'on the second day of school?' perplexed her. Why were they complaining about work to do when that was what they were in this facility to learn and accomplish?

"Ordinaries are weird."

"Not as weird as a girl with a name like Tinga," Taz grinned at her from the cover of the dismissal bell.

"This spoken by someone named after a fuzzy rodent and stupidly incoherent cartoon character," Tinga shook her head, heading out the door.

"The Tasmanian devil is not a rat! And Taz isn't stupid or incoherent, he's just…misunderstood."

"Huh," Tinga merely grunted.

"It's true!" Taz shouted down the hall after her, and he turned toward the opposite way, to the sound of Tinga's laughter.