Tease was a semi-upscale bar just outside Il Giardino about four blocks up with low-hung chandelier lighting, themselves dimly lit, and deep-mahogany leather booths and stools lining an almost empty barroom. The atmosphere seemed rich with opulence, despite the mechanical bull which sat in the middle of the room like a lame cow.

There weren't many patrons at this early hour, but there was a small bachelorette party in effect; from the looks of it, the bride and her three friends, all of whom were trained on Biggs and Alec, who sat in a corner booth sipping Scotch.

"So you still like Scotch," Biggs said, savoring his next sip and checking out the bridal party.

"Oh, absolutely," Alec said, tasting a gulp's worth. "The only thing that can really get me drunk."

"Hey remember in Cairo we drank those two bottles of Scotch waiting for those guards to change shifts, and-"

Alec was laughing already as he continued the story. "And we had to abort the mission because we were laughing so loud we were gonna get caught? Yeah…"

Their shared laughter died down.

"I can't believe Manticore's really gone," the dark-haired transgenic said with a slight air of nostalgia.

"I can. That place was awful."

"You didn't used to think so," Biggs retorted.

"Yeah, but all that was before I really knew what was out here, you know?" Alec lifted both hands to suggest there was a whole world he knew almost nothing about. He peeked over his shoulder at the bachelorette party.

"Bullshit, man, you were out on solos all the time."

"Yeah I was. And I was mindless. Soulless."

Biggs sat back in surprise. "Who's talking right now, you or someone else? 'Cause it doesn't sound like you."

It sounds like Max, Alec told himself.

A small smile crept onto Biggs' face just as one of the bridesmaids, a petite and perky blonde, approached the table.

"Hi," she said, her high-pitched voice filling the booth.

"Hi," Biggs responded confidently. He seemed to get an idea. "How are you?"

The girl looked away coyly, then back. "I'm good. Just wondering if you two would like to join us? It's our friend Gina's bachelorette party, and as you can see, this place isn't really jumpin'. But maybe with you, it would be."

Biggs softened. "Oh, you know normally I'd say yes, but my girlfriend would kill me if she found out I was doing body shots with other women." Seed planted, Biggs thought.

The girl turned her attention to Alec. "How about you, Sexy?"

Alec smiled appreciatively. "I'm just catching up with my friend here – I haven't seen him in years, so I'll pass this time."

The girl frowned. Then Biggs frowned.

"But I know it took some guts for you to come over here – so I can at least buy you all a round. What do you say?" He flashed a crooked smile.

"Patron," she said, smiling.

Success. "All right, I'll have the bartender send some right over."

"Can I at least get your names?" she asked. "Trish and the girls have a bet." She shot a glance back to her table.

Both soldiers thought about their designations first, and remained tight-lipped.

"I won't tell them if you're embarrassed," she offered.

"I'm Alec," he said, then looked to Biggs expectantly.

"Biggs," he conceded.

The girl's eyes lit up. "Biggs, huh?" The girl turned back to Alec. "Well, thank you, Alec and Biggs. I'm Kristana."

As Kristana walked back to her table, Alec signaled the bartender. "Their next round's on me. And can we get a couple more fingers?"

Biggs laughed. "Yeah, that's what Lola said!"

Alec burst into laughter. "Yeah, she did, didn't she?"

"The things that woman could do…" Biggs trailed, a giant smile on his face. He snapped out of his reminiscing and asked, "So what's going on with that?" He motioned toward the small gaggle of women downing their shots halfway across the bar.

"What do you mean?" Alec played dumb, shooting a deceitful smile at his old friend.

"You telling me you're not interested at all in making it a full house over there?" Biggs wagged his eyebrows subtly. He was clearly picking up on Alec's lack of attention to the bachelorettes and wondering what had changed in less than two years that would tame his buddy.

Alec looked to the table, where not only Kristana, but another bridesmaid, were both shooting him bedroom eyes. He turned back to Biggs. "What about you? You don't have a girlfriend."

Biggs threw his hands up. "Guilty. But neither do you. I only told them I have a girlfriend so I could see how you reacted."

Alec played at looking betrayed. "Why?"

"Because I know you."

"I'm supposed to be married here," Alec said defensively. "I can't do anything to get made or else I can't help Trip."

"Yeah, I'm not buying it, 49-" Biggs stopped himself. "Alec. You've already compromised it by telling that sweet foursome of ladies your assumed name."

Alec sat back, considering whether or not to let the Commanding Officer role surge to the surface to reprimand his SIC.

Except doing that seemed like it would make him feel like that nameless, soulless killing machine Manticore had trained him to be. But then again, he had to remind himself why he was here – to save Trip. And how was he going to do it? By employing the techniques Manticore taught him.

Alec remained quiet and conflicted.

"I think you got something' going on with the lovely and talented Mrs. Crawford," Biggs finally said, and with a knowing grin. "It makes sense. All the uncomfortable shifting at dinner. All the sideways glances you give her when she's not looking at you."

Alec couldn't hide his discomfort as Biggs talked about Max. Sure, Max was hot, but that didn't mean he felt anything more for her than a lustful daydream. Right? "No, there's nothing going on between us."

Biggs took a big swig and finished his Scotch just as the bartender dropped off their next round. He didn't miss that Alec had said 'us,' which in his book meant there was some kind of subliminal suggestion. "But not for lack of trying, right?"

Alec stared into the depths of his amber ale. "I guess we're not like that," he said, and immediately regretted it.

'Not like that.' Just the mention of those words made him feel guilty and sick simultaneously. That's how Max talks about Logan. He pursed his lips. And that's how I talk about her. He sighed. But that's not how she talks about me.

Biggs watched the emotions play across his face as Alec tried to figure this out in his mind.

"Alec, man, I'm sorry. I thought she was free game."

Alec looked up from his drink, conceding. What did he think was going to happen when an obnoxious flirt saw Max? Walk the other direction? "It's cool. I'm surprised you weren't trying harder – I mean, with what I did to you. The Olivia Incident."

Biggs brushed off the memory. "We were thirteen. That shit doesn't matter anymore. What I want to know is: what's the problem? You've never been one to want for a lady. Why not just go after her? Is she Lydecker's daughter or something?"

Alec chuckled. "I think she kind of hates my guts!"

"No way, dude. She digs you."

"Digs me, like digs me a grave," Alec said, and took a gulp. "She was practically undressing you, Biggsy."

"Yeah, probably just to watch you squirm. Women love making us squirm," he said, looking over to the table of bridesmaids and smiling. "It's like their secret desire or something."

Kristana winked at him and one of the other girls seemed to stick out her chest a little more. All of them giggled that same giggle Alec and Biggs would always remember from the all-girls school.

Alec slammed the remainder of his Scotch. "Even if that was true, she's in love with another guy."

Biggs' mouth fell open momentarily. "That sucks," he said flatly. "You sure?"

Alec nodded. "She's probably off calling him right now and giving him a wide load of shit for making us Man and Wife."

With a newfound determination, Biggs waved the bartender over. "In that case, it's time to get you sauced, my friend." He waved for the women to join their table instead. "Ladies!"

After lunch, Max found herself wandering the shops along the street, looking for a dress to wear to the event. 'Window shopping' as she had come to know it, had felt like a waste of time when she was younger – after Manticore. What did she even know of want and value? And style? It wasn't until she was with a foster family who had a couple of daughters that she started to understand fashion and the psyche of young girls in a post-pulse era. (And she had found them to be kind of vain.)

But then again, being partially raised in a military environment rendered her a little shy in the feminine ways category. She mostly dressed for practicality and the occasion – as if she'd be playing a role.

When she was out on her own, she blended in, copying the looks of the girls and women around her. Bye-bye cammies, hello civvies.

And here she was, getting ready to play another role, another set of objectives to complete. She'd need a dress that could potentially hide a weapon or two, but that wouldn't draw too much attention.

The first shop that had a dress even remotely appropriate had a sequined hem at every seam and made Max dizzy. As she left the store, she saw a prepaid cell phone store, into which she promptly walked.

When she came out with a cell phone, she immediately dialed Logan. There were some things she needed to know, and maybe he could help with the Roses.

"Hey," he answered.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"You're the only person who'd call on a cell I don't have the number for."

"Oh," she said, stopping at another display window.

In front of her on a headless mannequin, she saw a beautiful blue dress with strappy shoulders and an empire waist. She decided she wanted to try it on and walked into the store. "Well, I could really use your help with something." She eyed the walls for the dress she'd just seen in the window.

"Sure, what's up?"

She spied the dress. There was only one left in her size. She called out to the associate. "Excuse me? Can I try this on?"

Silence fell on the other end as Logan waited for her answer.

"Hang on a sec," she said.

Logan heard a door close. "What are you doing?"

"Trying on some clothes," she said. "I have this thing to go to. Anyway, what do you know about the Rose family? They're connected."

Max heard the tick-tick-tick of Logan's keyboard. She wondered if their connection was really good, or if he was just a loud typist. It seemed like he was always near something that made electronic noise.

"Not much, apparently," came his voice, shaking her out of wonder. "New on the scene. Only been in business for about five years. They're new money. Six brothers, the two oldest of which – Edward and Christopher – they're the ring leaders. They the ones who have Alec's friend?"

"Yeah," Max said, lifting off her top.

"You'll need to go bra-less for the event," the sales clerk told Max through the door.

Max heard a commotion on Logan's end. "Everything okay?"

"Um, yeah, I just dropped the phone. Sorry."

If it was even possible, Max thought she heard Logan's face turn red. "It's a dress," Max said, remembering that the only time Logan had seen her in a dress was at his family's wedding a couple years back.

"What color?" he asked.

"Cobalt blue," she answered.

It was silent on the line for a moment. Max returned her line of thinking to the mission. "What else?"

Max shimmied out of her jeans and looked at the dress in the mirrors as Logan tap-tap-tapped more. This dress just wasn't going to work. It was pretty, and might have been too eye-catching. Plus it wouldn't leave much to the imagination when it came to hiding weapons.

"Looks like, wait, what's this?"

Max waited for the reveal as she adjusted the waist of the dress.

"They're connected to four other families out there, and two out here. They're not at the top."

"What does that mean?"

"One of the reports indicates the Rose family is on thin ice with one of the other families in Aurora."

"Which one?" she asked. Then, to the sales clerk, she asked, "Excuse me? Do you have anything that shows a little more skin?"

"Uh, well, it's the Morino family. This doesn't make sense. What I'm seeing suggests the Roses are indebted to the Morinos for quite a sum of money. And the Morinos are old school. Multi-generational. They are not playing around."

"Okay, so who's to say Alec and I don't help the Morinos out and get rid of their competition – let them collect on their debt? Free the kids and send them to California or something. You know what they say, mafia families and their money are soon parted."

She sensed hesitation on Logan's end.

"You can't just send them all – I mean, I can get in touch with my California contacts and we can get them new IDs, but that's going to take some time."

The sales clerk returned to Max with another dress. It was a red sheath dress with slits up the sides of both legs. Good for running, but too attention grabbing with the color. "No, he won't like this one," she told the clerk. "Thanks, anyway." She spoke into the phone again. "So I'll set you up with Alec's contact here in Denver, but we really need to get those kids out. We don't have time to sit on our hands and wait."

"In due time, Max. Who won't like it?"

"I don't want to wait. Their lives are on the line every day they're stuck here, and if you can't help me, I'll find my own way." Max pulled the dress up over her head and hung it back on the hanger.

Logan huffed. "I'll see what I can do."

"As long as you're ready by tomorrow night."

"It's not a guarantee, Max. I may not be able to do this all by tomorrow night, so stop pushing."

Max was getting frustrated. She pulled her jeans back on.

"Hey, how's it going with the hotel?" Logan asked, trying to change the subject.

Max sandwiched the phone between her shoulder and ear to button her jeans, frustrated she wasn't getting what she wanted, what these kids needed. "Fine. They had a mix-up with the rooms, so we had to share. And what the hell, Logan? Mr. and Mrs. Crawford?"

Logan nearly dropped his phone again.

"I mean, it's a tough cover! He really rides my nerves sometimes. I guess that's what married life is like, right?" Max found herself almost chuckling at the idea of Alec coming home after a hard day's work and Max pulling a casserole out of the oven, preparing for dinner.

"No, Max, you were supposed to be brother and sister. Isn't that how you always described your unit?"

Max felt the anger rising suddenly and quickly in her throat. Anger and desolation. "Alec is not my brother," she said lowly.

Ben was, she thought. Even though they shared genetics, Ben and Alec were two very different people, and she had a hard time believing Logan would even suggest a brother/sister team, especially considering her history.

Logan knew he'd made a mistake the second her voice turned to that low, quiet pitch. "Max, I'm so-"

"I gotta go," she said, starting to cry. She didn't understand why she was crying – she never cried. Not like this. "Hit you up tomorrow."

Max hung up the phone and sat facing the mirror, staring beyond her blurry reflection and into her past.

Max was getting ready to step into the just-drawn Jasmine scented bubble bath when she heard the hotel room door open. She blurred to the robe she'd left on the chair and slipped it on just in time to see Biggs setting Alec down on the couch. Alec was smiling wide.

"What happened?" Max asked, then smelled the liquor. "Are you guys drunk?"

Biggs looked to Alec and they both burst into laughter. Then Alec shushed them noisily. "We'll get caught!" he whispered.

"Yes," Biggs said. "Him more than me." Biggs pointed to Alec, as if there was another 'him' in the room he could have been referring to, but wasn't.

"Max!" Alec shouted throatily, looking up to the ceiling.

"Yes?"

"I can't see you!"

Max leaned over him so her face was in his line of vision.

"There you are!" he said, raising his hands to the sides of her face. "Stop spinning."

Max stepped out of his grasp and looked at Biggs sternly. "You put him up to this?"

The truth was, she had spent an afternoon pissed off at Logan and all she wanted was to talk to Alec. He was the only one like her who knew about Ben, the only person she could trust with the vulnerable-emotion-crap she was feeling. But she couldn't do that because Biggs just got him drunk.

"Not really," he answered, taking a bottle out of his jacket pocket. "But we brought some back for you." He waved the bottle in front of her.

Max snatched the bottle from him in a blur.

"Jeez!" he exclaimed. "You know what's funny? You're already a blur and you're blurring even more! You're like a strobe light or something!" He laughed.

"We brought some back for you!" Alec said, unknowingly repeating Biggs. He lifted his head. "'Cause I know it's not easy being married to me!"

Max looked back over to Biggs, set the bottle down on the coffee table, and returned her stare to Alec. "You're kinda sweet when you're drunk, aren't you?"

"Mm-hmm," Alec answered, nodding exaggeratedly with his eyes closed. He made a strange gurgle sound.

"What was that?" Max asked.

Biggs leaned forward and listened as the sound repeated. It was emanating from Alec's stomach. "Um, he might have eaten some wings and drank some Scotch and eaten some onion rings and drank some more tequila," Biggs rambled. "And Vodka, rum, and Jägermeister."

Max looked slightly worried. "Is he gonna throw up?"

"No, I don't think so," Biggs started. "Have you ever been drunk enough to throw up?"

Max thought about it. "The best I ever got was buzzed."

"Well, this dude and me," Biggs began, again pointing to Alec to make sure Max knew to which 'dude' he was referring. "We really tested the limits of the modern X5 Killing Machine. It is possible for us transgenics to get three sheets. You just gotta know what to drink, and how much."

"Floodgates!" Alec shouted and hoisted himself out of the couch's seemingly vice-like grasp. He walked toward the bathroom slowly, being careful not to run into anything that was already immobile.

Max gave Biggs a questioning look.

"It's a theory," Biggs said, laughing. "Once you open 'em, you gotta go every ten minutes."

Max smiled, then called out to Alec. "Don't fall in the bath!"

Alec made it around the corner and into the bathroom. Max and Biggs heard the door shut.

It grew very quiet in the living room area.

"So who's Asha?" Biggs asked, breaking up their silence.

Max almost grimaced, except she found herself wondering how Biggs knew about her. Had to have been something Alec said.

Which means he was telling Biggs all about Asha – how pretty and poetic and blonde and normal-all-over she really is.

"She's a friend of a friend – kind of a revolutionary fighter. She's aiight for an ordinary." What am I saying?

"Ah, I see," Biggs responded, standing. "Well I still don't get how anyone could choose her over you."

Max smiled at the compliment. This guy was charming, even if he was cheesy at times. "Well, I don't think they're like that," Max said, referring to Logan and Asha, "But not because she's not trying."

Biggs walked toward the door and Max followed a few feet behind.

Max took a breath. "Okay. So, my contact can have IDs made, but we gotta get those kids out first," she said. And he may not even be able to get the IDs made.

"Okay, well let's rally tomorrow at the restaurant maybe an hour or two before the event. If you guys can be packed and ready to go, I can get a bus for the kids and this whole thing can be just a memory."

Biggs left and as Max closed the door behind him, she noticed exactly how quiet it was. When she turned the corner toward the restroom, the door was still shut.

"Alec?" she called through the door. "You decent?"

She waited for an answer, but when none came, she knocked. "Alec? You okay? I'm coming in."

She twisted the knob and walked in. Alec was sitting against the wall, and at some point had removed his shirt. She knelt at his side. "Alec, are you okay?"

Alec tried to see her through squinted eyes. "I threw up on my shirt," he said. He looked exhausted.

"Come on, Mr. Crawford." Max pulled at his arm and he allowed her to help him up. She walked him down the hall to the bathtub and made him sit on the side chair. She untied and removed his shoes as he leaned back in the chair.

"Maxie, why did you take off my shoes?"

Max peeled of his socks. "Because you're getting in the bathtub."

"I am?"

"Yep."

Max pulled his hand and helped him up. He was still wearing pants, and there was no way she would undress that part of him, especially with him in his current state of mind. She led him toward the bath. "Big step down," she guided.

Once in the warm bubble bath, Alec turned and laid in it. "Thank you, Max," he said.

"No big deal. I'll take a bath later." Not in this super swanky double bubble bathtub, but it's not like I'll never have a bath again. Max found her way back to the chair and sat down facing Alec.

"For everything," he continued as if he hadn't heard her at all. "For believing in me."

Max smiled and watched his face as he drifted to sleep. She drew her knees up and leaned on the armrest.

Sometime in the night, or maybe it was the early hours before dawn, Alec woke up, freezing. He only kind of remembered how he got in the bathtub, but the water had turned cold and there were no bubbles left, and he really needed to get dry and dressed.

Some light spilled through the window and shined off the bathwater into his eyes. He squinted, and realized that not far off in the distance sat Max, cuddled up in a robe, looking sweet in her sleep.

He wondered how she could have fallen asleep. She almost never slept. And on top of that, she wouldn't have fallen asleep if she was trying to make sure he didn't slip unconsciously under the water and drown. Despite the brightness of those rays which streaked the room, he caught the light reflection from her hand. The ring.

She was wearing a robe and a ring, and nothing else. Something about it made him smile. He splashed some water while getting his feet under himself, which woke Max up, and as soon as he stood, he felt a wash of blood to the head.

"Let me get you a robe," Max said.