A/N: Sorry for being MIA. I know it feels like I'm stalling...I'm just dealing with shit. Trying to write more, hopefully on a reg. schedule. Story will start to pick up soon...just bear with me. Thanks for being patient, letting me set the scene. More and more of this story come to me each day. It's been a blast so far.

Much love, M

Disclaimer: James Patterson owns the characters and any recognizable canon info. Thanks JP, for this chaotic universe you gifted us.

M

I see her before she sees me. I'm sitting with my back to the wall in the back corner of the restaurant. It's only eleven, so the lunch rush is just getting started. She scans the crowd of people in the front before her eyes find me.

I wave, lifting my hand for a second. I'm looking around, too, but for different reasons. I'm not looking for anyone, just looking out. My fingers twitch while I glance over the patrons at the bar and scattered in the dining area. All inconspicuous and overall unremarkable, but I still can't help but scan for any hint of threat in the lunch-goers.

"Max," she says when she finally reaches me. I sit back, giving her a tense smile.

"I hope you understand why I wanted to meet somewhere less..."

"Personal?" She shrugs. "I get it. Considering your history with the feds, I don't blame you. And... I want to be able to trust you with this."

She doesn't say it threateningly, but still the comment makes my skin crawl. I look at her, and I know she's worried about handing over anything government-issued without knowing my location.

I pull out a yellow sticky note that's folded in half and push it over to her. She picks it up and just puts it in her pocket.

"Just don't enter it into any database," I say lowly. "Don't save it electronically."

She blinks at me, then nods, lifting her bag off the seat next to her and onto the table. n

"Two laptops in here," she says, patting the bag. "Just as you requested."

I nod, not reaching for it yet. "You'll also find our first briefing in there, summarizing the information we've found in the documents we've shared with you. What will be used in the trial, any additional charges. You know." She brushes loose hair behind her ear, trying to lock her eyes with mine. "Max?"

"It's just a lot," I say quickly. Tightly.

She smiles. "I know you've waited a while for this," she says softly. "I'm sorry the procedure is slower than preferable. Getting the right approval and permissions..." she trails off, because she knows I don't care about any of the red tape bullshit. "We're already well underway logging our next batch of evidence, so we'll meet again as soon as you're ready."

I nod. Alana's face turns with a little twinge of sadness. "Max, if you ever change your mind, you are welcome to do this part in D.C., at headquarters." She smiles. "There's a whole team working day and night on this case, and I have a feeling starting this process will be lonely for you."

Again, I'm shocked by Alana's ability to be 100% straightforward and honest. She's also not wrong, and I know she knows that. She'd gotten written statements from the three of us who were helping, agreeing to the preliminary terms of the discovery of evidence. She had checked with me when she hadn't gotten Fang's. Her exact words were, I think you forgot an attachment, I don't see Fang's form.

"It will be," I say lightly. "But also it won't. We stick together, no matter what."

She chews her cheek, looking down at the bag. Her eyes flit back up to me, and she says, "If there is any news, I'll call. Thanks for meeting me. Let me know if you need anything."

"Okay, I will," I say, and it sounds convincing, even. I sound like I will, like I actually think I will call Alana if this mid-youth crisis becomes too much for me to handle. She smiles and stands, ready to leave.

I look down at the bag, emotions welling in me and making my throat dry. I had flown two hours to meet Alana today, partially so her drive wouldn't be so long and also so she wouldn't know exactly where our house was. If she doesn't already.

The less people who know our location, the better. We don't want to pick up unwanted attention from anyone dangerous. It's not that I think she's a threat, but no one can be ruled out right now. Which is why I have to ask for one more thing.

"Alana?"

She looks up at me from zipping up her coat.

"I want to see Jeb."

She pauses, looking into my expression for any clue as to why I would want to see this man who turned my life upside down.

"Not yet," I say quickly, blinking, and looking down at the bag again. "Not until we've gone through it all. But I know I will want to, and I'll need you to be able to make that happen for me."

Alana nods, slowly. "You were close with him."

As if she didn't know already. I glance up at her.

"Tell me you can do it."

"I'll make it happen, Max," she says softly. "In fact, I'm writing up a more formal agreement. I'll be sending it for you to sign sometime next week. It will outline our terms for working together and procedural guidelines for anything regarding this case. I will be sure that's in there, too."

I nod, exhaling slowly. "Okay. Thank you."

"You too, Max." She starts to make her way toward the door, weaving through the even busier crowd of patrons.

I wait until she's fully out of sight and scoop the bag off the tabletop, turning and heading for the back door. I make one more sweeping scan of the restaurant and then duck out the back door, where the parking lot is.

My phone buzzes.

How's it going?

I frown, and then curse out loud when betraying emotions like anger and resentment heat my face. I tuck my phone into my pocket without answering, zip my jacket up and take off, heading home.

He would know how it's going if he had been here. And I respect his decision to stay out of it, I do—or maybe I respect that opinion coming from anyone except him. When everyone gets to bail, he usually doesn't. He sticks it out by my side. He follows me anywhere.

Except here.

It's been weeks since we first found out. It had taken Alana two weeks to call me, and then we had worked to set up a time and place to meet so she could give me the computers. The hiatus from this new mission was well needed among the flock, and everyone had gone back to their normal lives with ease since the revelation of the underground lab.

Fang is the only one who knew where I was today, meeting the FBI agent who was giving us our first round of evidence.

Evidence that only half of us really wanted access to.

We'd decided already, weeks ago, that the office was officially the only space where evidence would be discussed, studied, or stored. If this was going to work, we needed boundaries.

I frown and pull my phone back out. I'm heading back now.

He responds almost immediately. It's almost tucked into my pocket again before it buzzes again.

How'd it go?

I scoff, and strongly consider throwing my phone in frustration. Realizing how dangerous that could be for anyone or thing below me, I refrain from responding with a curt I thought you didn't want to know anything about the investigation? He should know better than to try to be here for me when he made it abundantly clear that he doesn't want details.

Fine. That's what I really send. I tuck my phone away and power ahead, hoping to cut my flight home down by half an hour.

I have a lot of work to do.