Disclaimer: See first chapter
Notes: I', so happy my math test got postponed that even though I'm supposed to be doing art and reading a French book, I couldn't resist writing this chapter out and posting it today. Thanks to all of you: calistra, OriginalProxy, Kez, Alana84,
chance32- well you never know, I normally do need prodding to get something finished,
Mystic Fayth- Anything but that! You'll see eventually (starts filing for a fake passport to hide),
adoria- a great suggestion that I might do as I haven't completely made up my mind and as such things are subject to change without notice, but I don't thing I want to open up that can of worms. The Zack in this fic will probably be alone- forever the big brother, the protector. Not everyone is meant for marriage or relationships. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you continue to enjoy this fic anyways.
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The command center was brimming with activity the next month or so. Max herself was buried under piles of paperwork. She supposed it was a good thing she didn't currently have a boyfriend. With the way these peace treaties with the rest of the world were going, and the amount of paperwork she had she probably wouldn't ever see him unless he disguised himself as a diplomatic agreement or a supplies list.
She normally did without sleep, but even in spite of her incredible genetics in that regard she couldn't help but let her mind wander. And where else to let her mind wander than in the direction of her 'secret admirer'. She wondered who it could be. On top of which this seemed like the perfect way to get over Al-
No. she was not going there, her mind skittered away from the thought as though she'd been burned.
She idly started to doodle on the corner of a supply list. It was pretty small anyways as they wee now virtually self sufficient and most could go out and buy things now that they had peace with the majority of the U.S. and if it was not yet complete acceptance at least it was a start. The diplomatic agreements were mostly for other countries. In fact, Canada had signed a peace treaty with them even before the U.S. had, and had offered them asylum should they need or desire it.
A line here, a line there, darken that section, curve that line… She wondered what he looked like. Would he have dark hair or light or maybe a fiery red? Long or short, or perhaps that slightly messy version that was just a little short of shaggy and always looked bedroom tousled? Would he have full kissable lips? Be tall enough that his build almost seemed to dominate when he kissed her, or short to the point he was her height. Would he have coloured eyes or would they be a twinkling hazel-green shining with mischief and lo-
She broke off that train of thought with a silent curse. He would not have twinkling hazel eyes, or bedroom tousled blond locks, or a deep tenor voice that sent shivers up her spine. Besides, those eyes had never looked at her with love or any emotion deeper than friendship. -Curve that line, make a squiggle, another half sphere, shade in and highlight that spot- And why was she even thinking of kissing her correspondent?
Sure they had begun talking a little under a month ago, and she had started to realize all the great things about him, and it was a him- they'd gotten that much straight about him at least. He was funny and nice and smart and insightful, and she realized with a start, he made her want to date. To try again. To be like a phoenix and soar from the ashes of her heart that had gone up in-
"Flames" a deep male voice, cut into her thoughts and startled her into stilling the pencil she'd been doodling with. "Very nicely drawn, beautiful realism that you carried off with a pencil and of a mythological creature no less. Unless I miss my guess, that is a phoenix rising from the ashes." He continued with excitement.
"That's right, what's it to you?" Max asked curiously.
"Nothing," the handsome young man gave her a winsome and slightly sheepish smile, "they're just my favourite creature is all. I originally suggested we name this place Phoenix but most people didn't seem to have quite the same fascination with it as I did. The more decorated and colourful area of Terminal City was named that though. For rising from the ashes of our wretched past to create something beautiful, and wonderful and better than before. Something that won't cause harm to anyone, only joy…and wow I rambled on a lot."
He shot her another dashing grin, "Sorry to bother you, I'm just so interested in myths that given the opportunity my mouth just seems to run away from me."
"No, don't be. It's fascinating." Max exclaimed truthfully. And as he looked at her as if trying to see the truth in her, she found herself studying him as well. Tall, over 6 feet in height, he had Latino blood which just added to his allure.
With eyes as dark as the night sky, and long black hair tied back in a low ponytail, strands of hair which kept escaping to fall into his eyes, and frame his strongly boned face. Aristocratic cheekbones, smooth skin and muscles that glowed with the suns kiss, and full lips completed the image. And that white toothed smile had Max's heart beating just a little faster than normal.
"I'm Miguel." He held out his hand cordially.
"Max." she shook it firmly.
"Max." he repeated to himself as though testing the name out on his tongue. Apparently satisfied he grinned at her.
She waited a moment before asking when it appeared he wasn't going to speak "Were you here to get something?"
He flushed slightly "Actually no. my eyes just got caught by your drawing. I'm actually headed over to ask Luke for some more hot water to my building." He sheepishly handed over the supply list to her. "I should get going then."
"Alright. It was nice meeting you Miguel." She turned back to her truckload of work.
"Oh believe me, Max," he nearly purred her name as he gave her a roguish grin before walking away "the pleasure was all mine."
Meanwhile, as Max contemplated on much more than her work but on her secret admirer, the man she'd just met, and the one who'd broken her heart it was a small miracle she managed to clear a third of her desk by the time night fell.
But over on the other side of the room, unnoticed during the previous conversation, Alec silently growled and inwardly cursed himself for his stupidity. If only he had taken the chance when presented to him, as Jack Sparrow would have said 'if he had been looking for the opportune moment, that was it' and now it was gone. Idiot! He cursed.
Kharla had suggested trying to be her friend first. Friend, right, he could do that. If he started before someone else started dating her and he lost his chance to make them both happy. He didn't know what he would do if he became her friend only to have her start dating again, then again she must have felt the same when he was with all those girls. How many times had she felt like she'd been punched in the gut? Stabbed in the heart? Betrayed?
Again he took a deep breath to calm himself down. Right, friends. He could do that.
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So what did you think? This has not been beta'd as I was in such a rush to get it out. Hope you enjoyed anyways, and please review. Reviews are a writers best friend after all!