18 pages! A little later than usual. But I kept stumbling at the ending of this chappie. I knew what I wanted but wasn't quite able to get it out in the open. That and I slept in. Usually I'm up at 11 (at night) and ready to post by 5 (in the morning.) -Yes, I have screwy sleeping patterns.

Un'beta'd. So forgive the typos and whatnot. Though if you see 'em, point them out. I get so annoyed with making mistakes. Thank-you to those who reviewed. They are always loved. Hugs and cookies to you all!

-3-

Facets

--x&x--

"Max!" Mrs McDowell exclaimed, upon opening her door and finding the aforementioned girl on her doorstep. "My, let's get a look at you," she commented, trying to spin Max around. "You've grown so much in the past two years! I barely recognise you."

For the first time that day, Max was glad she had dressed down. While she wasn't aiming at the traditional 'girl next-door' look, she did wonder how Mrs McDowell would have reacted to her decked out in her motorbike leathers.

Max chuckled. "You aren't the only one."

Mrs McDowell smiled and bundled her inside the pristine home that smelled of rosemary and other nameless herbs. It hadn't changed a bit since Max's last visit. "Dinner's just about ready. Ben was just in the shower. He'll be down in a minute."

Smiling, Max followed the elder woman into the kitchen and carefully put her cake down. The box was a little misshapen after nearly coming off her seat, but overall it looked fairly decent. It could have ended up all over the road. Max was just thankful it didn't.

"What's this?"

"Strawberry cheesecake," Max said, opening the lid of the box and revealing the contents. "I know how much Ben used to love 'em."

The other smiled brightly. "And he still does," she assured Max. "You're such a sweet girl. Maybe you're just what he needs in his life. Maybe you can help change the way he sees things."

The woman's words troubled Max. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"He wants to join the army once he leaves school."

Frowning, Max closed the cake box. "But I thought he wanted to be a doctor, just like Mr McDowell was? He's never said anything to me about joining the army when I spoke with him last. He never said anything when I—" When I told him I was thinking about joining at the end of this year...

He wasn't joining simply because she was, right? He had to have other reasons.

"I'll talk to him," Max murmured, wondering how much sway she really had over Ben's decision to join the military. Though she knew he would make a brilliant soldier. As kids when they had their little war games he had always been one of the best—better than Zack, even. The quietest. The sneakiest. The most goal orientated.

Mrs McDowell beamed. "I'd stop worrying so much if you would. Now, we're having your favourite. When was the last time you had a home cooked meal?" She asked, removing a shallow dish from her oven. It was complete with a large golden chicken and surrounded in roasted vegetables.

The scent of warm garlic, herbs and butter assaulted Max's nose and she couldn't help but inhale it deeply. She had missed this.

Throwing her mind back, the sixteen year old tried to recall the last time she had eaten something home made. Last week? No—that was left over from a week or so ago. How about Wednesday? No that was lasagne from that downtown place and the stir fry was from that joint in Chinatown... It took a moment but eventually she remembered the last time.

"Friday two and a half months ago."

"I see," Mrs McDowell frowned.

Max shrugged the look away. Having been on the receiving end of similar expressions plenty while in New York. "Dad's always out and isn't in until late. Krit's home about as much seeing as he's trying to balance school and his apprenticeship. So I'm usually home alone or out with friends."

What I would give to be with Moody and them now, though. Not liking how this was progressing.

"That isn't the type of life a young girl like you should live," Mrs McDowell sighed, disapprovingly. "You know, that if your father moves again you are more than welcome to stay here with us. We have enough room to spare and then some. Just remember, all right?"

When she was younger, the words had touched Max. Now however, they made her apprehensive. Four years of looking after herself made her wary of giving up the independence she had built. Thanks to Moody's teachings, and the street smarts she'd acquired, Max was now completely self-sufficient. Prior to her stay in New York, she couldn't claim such things.

As it was, all the clothes in her wardrobe were all paid for through her races and the odd job she pulled.

"Max."

The soft drawl caught her attention and she turned to find Ben standing in the doorway. Looking somewhat out of place. Clad in dark cargo pants, t-shirt and a leather bomber jacket. His clothing of choice was similar to the way it had been when he was sixteen—minus the leather. He hadn't changed much. Just grown a little taller. His shoulder's broadened a little. He still looked like a model from Kendra's fashion magazines. Though his eyes seemed darker, warier than she could ever recall. Almost haunted.

This... this was new.

"Ben," Max smiled, despite that strange tension Ben always exuded in her presence. She was used to it now though and darted across the floor. She was in his arms before either could blink. Her own secured around his waist as she gave a slight squeeze. "Would you stop with the whole stiff act? This is your place."

She could hear the smile in his voice as his arms tightened around her. "I missed you."

"Apparently everyone has," she snorted at her words.

"I missed you most," Ben argued as he relinquished his hold. "There was no one to side with me against Mr Burnaby and his reign of tyranny in English. One week with you, and he'd have turned tail and fled."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me," Max said, wryly. "Well, you have me now and if we get my Burnaby this year, he's as good as gone. I can guarantee you'll be regretting my return as well. You're gonna get sick of me pretty damn fast."

"Never."

Ben's mother glanced over at him. "Going out later?"

"If Maxie agrees," Ben conceded, taking a careful step into the kitchen. His eyes now brightened by his boyish grin.

Turning back to the steaming plates of food, Max went to help set the table. Ben's eyes never quite leaving her form. He followed, plucking up a piece of chicken before he could be struck by the wooden spoon his mother was wielding, to fend him off. He stepped back, still grinning cheekily while eating his prize.

"I was planning on showing her the sights and sounds of Seattle by night," he continued. "Since last time she was over, all she was interested in was pranking some guy who pissed her off when she got here."

"Sounds great," Max agreed, while picking up the bowl of mashed potatoes and the other filled with peas, moving them to the dinner table. "I need to familiarise myself with each sector. It's been so long."

"Language Ben," his mother admonished, her brow furrowed. "And you know what I've told you about your drinking. You're too young to drink. Max hasn't even had her seventeenth yet."

The seventeen year old boy didn't seem perturbed. "No one's big when it comes to policing the age of drinking anymore, mom," he explained patiently. Sounding like it was a rehearsed dialogue that had grown tiresome. "Ten year olds can walk into bars and get a glass of vodka if they have enough to pay for it."

The woman sniffed in distain. "Their mother's should know better than to let ten year-olds out at night. Especially Inner Seattle."

"Yeah, yeah, mom. I know."

Max tried not to snort at Ben's obvious annoyance.

"I just worry about you, Ben," his mother said in retaliation to his bland tone. "Full grown men go missing all the time and turn up months later in dumpsters and the harbour. What's to keep you from becoming one of them?" She asked, turning on her heel carrying a tray of something green looking into the dinning room.

Ben followed, bearing the main dish and set it on the table beside what Max could now see was a kind of spinach salad. "I know mom. But I have Max now and she's got my back. Right, Max?"

She scoffed. "Need you even ask?"

"So what are the big plans once graduations over, Max?" Mrs McDowell asked, setting down the decanter of what had to be fruit punch.

Swallowing, Max tried to think of something without lying or saying that she had wanted to join the army and was possibly the reason for Ben's sudden interest. Though she had no idea why. It made sense, in some weird way. "Still thinking about it, actually," she said after hesitating. "At this point I'm pretty much open for anything. Which is why the classes I took are so diverse."

"Ah yes. Just like Ben, here. Alec is more sport orientated."

Shaking off the oppressive tension at the mention of Alec, Max glanced up as Ben sat across from her. The large knife sliding through the poultry as he set about dishing her out generous slices of chicken. "Maybe I'll get lucky," Max voiced and took a bite of the chicken. It seemed to melt in her mouth. Yes, definitely missed this. She swallowed. "And Ben and I will share some classes."

Finishing with the chicken, Ben helped himself to the potatoes. "That could be arranged easily enough," he paused, spoon held aloft. "So long as our grades are similar wouldn't be hard. I dropped history, though—not my strong point."

"Neither—especially with my old history teacher. No idea what his dealio was, but he bored everyone to death. Don't think anyone ever passed his class with anything other than a 'C' maybe a C+, if they were lucky." She wasn't about to say that she managed an A+ like usual. There was nothing worse than making herself look like a bookworm when she wasn't.

"Sounds like a drag." He passed the bowl on and Max helped herself.

"Oh he was," she said with a grin, considering the irony in her friend's choice of phrase. "In more ways than one."

"So Max, what do you do in your spare time? Have any hobbies?" The question was awkward, then again Mrs McDowell hadn't really spoken with Max since before she had left. Sure, there were the times when Max had called for Alec—and in the end just Ben, still that hardly counted as proper conversation and Max wasn't very good with small talk. Especially of the personal kind.

"I race," Max responded. Deciding to be upfront about it. "Dad doesn't like it. Keeps saying I'm going to end up snapping my neck."

"Racing?" Ben asked, clearly intrigued. "Still?"

"Damn straight," Max answered, promptly. "Never lost a race on my Ninja and make decent enough amounts from the races. I actually ran into Zack today while on it and raced up around town. Didn't realise it was him at the time. Kicked his a—I mean, I totally whipped him," she amended hastily.

This was another thing she wasn't used to. Censoring her words and thoughts. It had been so long since she had been forced to keep her thoughts to herself and she found the short amount of time already stifling.

"Zack?" Ben inquired, his eyes dimming considerably. Mrs McDowell glanced worriedly at him a moment. Seemed Max's near slip was skimmed over for something more pressing.

Max paused in her questioning, fork full of food temporarily forgotten. "What about him?"

"We don't talk anymore," Ben replied vaguely, jabbing absently at the roast chicken on his plate. "Not since my call last week."

"Why?" Max queried with a frown. She glanced from one McDowell to the other. Wondering what had happened in the past week that would have the two at each other's necks. It used to be Alec that wound Zack up the most. Now somehow Ben had had a big enough fight that he and Zack weren't on speaking terms? "What happened?"

"You know boys," Mrs McDowell waved Max's query off and received a cold stare from her son in response. She ignored it and took a bite of her carrot. "They'll be talking again in no time. Just you see."

Isn't that what you said about Alec and me? Max asked silently. That didn't turn out. But then if it had, would she be just as close to Ben? Doubtful. "'Course," she agreed aloud, though she didn't.

Ben seemed to share her sentiments, offering her a secret smile.

The rest of dinner was passed with yet more uncomfortable questions and small talk between Max and Ben's mother. He seemed quite happy just sitting back and listening to the conversations. Only adding his own comments every now and then to keep them going relatively smoothly. Or, as smoothly as they could go, considering Max's discomfit. Especially when it came to mention of her ex's.

"She wasn't trying to pry," Ben informed her, as they made their way to the garage where his car was parked. "She's just missed having you around."

"I know. It was just... awkward." Wasn't everything these days?

Ben nodded then unlocked and deactivated the alarm on his convertible. "It's what happens when people grow and change. You have to learn them all over again."

Max let out a soft whistle as she caught sight of Ben's car. Her eyes trailed up and down it's length impressed. It was in beautiful condition. The body almost a ruby or blood red shade with a beige, chrome and brown interior. "Nice vintage," she voiced in admiration. "A Chrysler, right?" Cars weren't really her thing, but this—it was a classic.

Smiling proudly, Ben nodded. "Mid to late 60's."

"Must be a chick magnet," Max grinned back and slipped into the passenger's side. "So Ben, you haven't said anything about your latest girlfriend."

"Don't have one," he replied, shortly. Starting up his car, he backed it out the drive. Max shot him a sidelong glance at his strange tone. "What about you and Darren? At dinner you didn't seem comfortable bringing him up. How long you guys been dating?"

Max looked out the window. "Darren and I are over. The jerk had the nerve to blame me for being a human fogbank while he was cheating on me."

"I'm sorry," Ben murmured, quietly.

"Don't be," Max sighed, tossing a red-brown lock of hair over her should and out of her face. "I only hooked up with him in the heat of the moment. Completely impulsive and now that I think on it—insane. No idea why I stayed with him."

Ben shrugged, his eyes on the road now as they drifted into the city. "So, starting school next week. Looking forward to it?"

"Not really," Max admitted. "I don't really see why its so important. I mean, look around us. We're in a depression and we're worried about having good grades to move on to college then hopefully good jobs?" She sank lower into the plush leather of her seat. "I dunno, I can't help but think somewhere thing's messed up and I ain't meant to be living this way..."

Sharp green eyes cut to her brown ones. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not meaning suicide, if that's what you're thinking," Max rolled her eyes. "It just feels wrong to be worried about such trivial things when there are so many others living in squalor... Moving to New York, made me realise a few things that I'd never thought about. I mean, c'mon chicken? I had no idea how hard it was to come by until I left here. In New York they're like fifty bucks for a small one. Still running around, even."

"Ah, searching for the meaning of life, Maxie?"

"Naw. I just miss Moody and the gang. They seemed to have the answer for everything. I miss the Theatre."

"The old guys you used to hang out with?" Ben asked, pausing at the sector stop and flashed his papers to the guards on duty. The barrier arm rose slowly with that irritating whir of clapped out machinery, allowing them through. "You spoke about Moody a lot. Should I be jealous?"

Rolling her eyes at her friend, Max shook her head. "Unless you want to be at least a good twenty years older, then I don't see why. There's no way he could keep up with me."

Ben returned her smile. "Good to know."

"So this place we're headin' to?"

"Crash," Ben informed her, taking another left smoothly. "Sector nine. One of the more laid back places out here. We aren't likely to run into any of Alec's mates while we're there."

Smiling her acceptance, Max returned her gaze to the passing scenery. "Sounds like fun. Hey, if you're up for it, we could hit up this poker and blackjack tournament in Sector twelve later. I know you're good a player at both. We'd clean up, easy."

Studying his companion, Ben looked at her archly. "Gambling, Maxie? How'd you find out about this? You only got in to Seattle a few hours ago."

"Contacts," Max replied smoothly. "They let me know about anything they think I'll find useful and I return the favour. They knew I was leaving for Seattle so they let me know about the tournament. I figure, we'd get enough to score you you're own bike to accompany me on my rides 'round town."

"Deal," Ben agreed easily. "How much do we need for entry? Can't be cheap."

Max wasn't concerned. "I almost have enough. Just a little more and we're in. It'll get it. No problems," she threw her companion a mischievous grin.

Ben grinned wickedly. "They'll have know idea what hit 'em."

"They never do," Max laughed softly in return.

Crash turned out to be a decent enough place. Though the location left much to be desired, security wise for Ben's car. Though he assured her no one would touch it. The place itself was closer to the Max's tastes. What she was used to back in New York, anyway. With a large screen up onside showing random video clips, lights over head that didn't mess with her eyes too badly and were actually quite dull. The base thumping in the back wasn't too terrible, either. All in all, it was good place. If Ben had taken her to one of those fancy joints with stupid dress codes she thought she might bolt.

It wasn't the Theatre, but it was the closest she could get.

"Nice place," Max commented, her eyes taking in the scene with a glance. She followed her companion down the stairs and slipped off her cardigan.

"Ben, man what are you doing here? I thought you were busy tonight?" A tall and darkly attractive looking guy questioned upon seeing them. He left his shot at the bar and made his way over, only to give Ben a friendly thump on the back. The young man's sapphire eyes narrowed in on Max and he peered back at Ben questioningly. Brow hiked.

"Could say the same for you," Ben replied. Gesturing for Max to sit, he slid into a seat at the bar next to her. "Shouldn't you be at home with your girl?

The young man laughed as he returned to his own stool. "Which one?"

"Still haven't decided, Zane?"

"Zane?" Max asked, latching on to the name. "Still the player then?" She teased, finally seeing the boy she'd once known in his matured face. Even now he looked nothing like Jondy or even Zack, for that matter. But then, none of the siblings had ever looked alike. Max had just figured it was because Jondy was their half-sister and had her own looks.

Zane shot her an uncomfortable glance before his eyes slid sideways to Ben. "She isn't one of my conquests is she?" He murmured, in what he must have thought was a quiet tone of voice. "I'm pretty sure I'd remember sleeping with her but you know, sometimes one face blurs into another."

"She can hear you," Max snorted in annoyance. Yup, definitely same old Zane.

Again, Zane shifted.

Ben smiled. Head cocked slightly to the side, looking almost viciously amused. "You haven't touched her, Zane. I doubt Maxie would want your hands anywhere near her after all I've let her know."

Zane's head spun to face her so fast, Max was surprised it stayed on and didn't go flying off his broad shoulders. His jaw was definitely touching the floor now. "Max?" His eyes swept over her again, cataloguing every difference in her. It made her want to smack him when his eyes paused a little longer at her chest. "Girl you grew up fine. I can see why Ben kept your last stay a secret. I wouldn't want to share you either," he winked, jokingly. "Hows things?"

"Great." Max graciously decided to let the extended glance at her chest slide. "Heard you finally got that dog you always wanted."

He smiled, his eyes slightly glazed. Like a child who'd been given the keys to a candy store. "Yeah. A German Shepard. He's a big guy. Eats twice as much as I do. Nothing but a big softie though. A complete coward, too."

"Just like you, huh?" Max clapped Zane on the back.

Ben let out a choked laugh.

Zane muttered something even Max didn't quite catch, then added, "His name's Cujo."

"Nice," Max drawled, sarcastically. Of course Zane would name his dog after that book. He always had something of an unhealthy interest in that sort of thing. "He's had his shots against rabies, right?"

"Think I'm stupid, Max?"

She gave Zane a meaningful look.

"Answer enough," Ben replied for her and ordered what looked like his usual; a simple cola with ice. Seemed Ben wasn't into anything else. "Max, name your poison."

"Think I'll stick with cola as well."

Both Ben and Zane gave her a strange look. "Why?"

She glared at them. "Why the hell not?"

"Nothing," Zane reassured her, his hands thrown up as though expecting her to strike him—which admittedly, she was sorely tempted to do. "It's nothing. Benny boy has an excuse at least; he's sober driver. Worried I'll drink you under the table in a contest? C'mon, Maxie. Show us what you got."

Unable to help herself, Max swatted him over the head.

"Ow."

"Aw big baby," Max cooed back, mockingly and gave a slight yank at his short spiked black hair. "Did I hurt you?"

"Hands off the hair! Damn it, Max. What's with you and Jondy's hair pulling?"

There was a low noise and Max turned to see Ben's dark look. She was a little perturbed at his expression. Even though it wasn't directed at her, she felt her hackles rise in response. Even Zane seemed a little wary as he tried to fix his hair.

"Sorry, man," Zane apologised. He signed loudly. "Forgot about that."

"What?" Max demanded, bewildered and cautious by the sudden turn of events.

Clearing his throat, Zane tossed a look at Ben. "Sis. Ben hates her."

Max's eyes steeled. It used to take a lot to make Ben hate something. Even now she knew that even if he had fought with Zack and wasn't speaking to him, that he didn't hate the older blonde, so Jondy would have had to do something spectacularly stupid to piss Ben off so much. "What did she do?"

"It's her fault that everything turned to shit the day you left," Ben explained.

"You're pissed at her for that?" Max questioned, surprised and dare she admit it, touched that he'd held her corner even long after she'd left. Trying to fight down the smile that threatened, Max looked away. "Thanks, Ben. But I think your anger is a little misplaced—since it was your brother and not Jondy who was acting like an ass."

"They're not talking either," Zane piped in, downing his shot. Another one immediately replaced it. "Not since the fight at school the very next day—Zack, Seth and I had to separate 'em."

Swivelling around in her seat, Max fixed Ben with a look. "You never told me that."

His lip quirked up at the side in a bitter semi-grin. "And you never told me about Darren or Leo," he murmured softly, peering into the murky depths of his drink. He sounded deeply hurt by that. "Despite keeping in touch, it took mom's questions for that to come out."

Inwardly, Max winced.

"So you're the one who was Benny boy's pen pal?" Zane asked, his brows crinkled up in bemused concentration.

"You seem shocked," Max commented, sarcastically. Though her attention was focused on Ben. It wasn't like she had been intentionally deceptive. Leo and Darren just weren't important enough to mention. She didn't see the point when Ben meant more to her than her two ex's combined.

"Well yeah," Zane grinned broadly at her. "I remember how difficult it was for you to sit still. You were constantly moving around. Needing to do things, I find it strange that you managed to sit long enough to write to him once a month—your nickname should have been Fidget."

Max jabbed him in the ribs.

"Hey!" Zane grunted. "Least we know it's actually someone. For a while there, Zack was worried that he mighta been goin' a little loco. Guess this means you're the reason he was banned from the phone that whole time, huh?"

This time, Ben elbowed Zane. Spilling his drink all over his crotch.

"Jesus!"

Snorting in amusement, Ben tossed some cash out in front of him. Signalling the barkeeper, though his eyes never left his companions as Zane glared down at his liquor sodden lap. He was going to smell like a brewery when he got home.

"Ben you bastard. Just you wait," Zane growled.

"'Nother cola," Ben ordered, grinning when Max slapped Zane once more. "Thanks."

The money was pressed back towards Ben as the bottle of cola was placed in front of Max, followed by a tall glass. Glancing up, she caught the bartender's look. "On the house," he winked at her.

Not bothering to acknowledge him in anyway, Max drank from the bottle.

"So," Zane began, sounding guardedly curious. His eyes flickered between Max's pensive form and Ben's tense one. He ran a hand through his short hair, messing up all the work he went into 'fixing' it again. "Are you guys—?"

"Are we, what?" Ben inquired. His eyes shifted from the barkeeper, body visibly uncoiling as his gaze settled on Zane.

"Forget it," Zane muttered, deciding to keep his questions to himself. He glared back down at his ruined jeans. Attempting to dry them with a napkin he'd snagged. It wasn't working as far as Max could see and was only making things worse.

She almost felt sorry for him.

"So, when we having the get together? Just say the word and I could have Seth, Ash and... Zack down here in minutes," Zane said, carefully mentioning the group's old leader. When Ben didn't react to the name, the dark haired youth rambled on. "Jack, Kavi and Ale—well they're away on their little camping trip." Zane rolled his eyes. "Jocks for you."

Max shared his thoughts, never liking them much at her old school. Nor the cheerleaders and their catty attitudes towards popularity outside of the big golden circle that was footballers and their pep squads. "I'm guessing that Alec is the star player?"

"You betcha," Zane replied.

Slipping from her stool, Max concluded that she may as well start the evening off with a game of pool. She'd make some quick cash from some unsuspecting morons who couldn't see past her chest. "Now to hustle," she said, pulling a fifty from her pocket.

Zane looked dubious but his expression was ignored.

Putting on an exaggerated sway in her walk, Max sauntered up to a group of guys that she had seen playing pool in the side room. This was the kind of thing she missed. Perfecting her skills and weaselling idiots out of cash with minimum effort.

"Hey fellas," she smiled, leaning against the table, ensuring they got a liberal flash of her cleavage. Not difficult given she hadn't changed from her clothing especially picked out for dinner and it was as girly as she was willing to get, minus the skirt. But she figured her tight jeans made up for the lack of skin that she would be flashing otherwise. The fine-strapped singlet was distracting enough. "My friends over there were wanting to prove that I couldn't handle a game by myself. Are any of you willing to take a girl on?"

That was one good thing about her appearances, she had decided. All she had to do was put a few false airs and most guys bought it without much thought.

The group glanced at one another, smirking. Clearly thinking her the typical useless female she was trying to portray. It was harder for Max to keep the smile on her face, when all she wanted to the knock it from theirs.

"Sure thing, baby," one of the more decent looking from the group replied.

She heard a heavy thump from behind her, but didn't turn to check what Zane and Ben were doing. It was followed by a muttered curse.

Her challenger took a step forward. "The stakes?"

"Two hundred," Max pitched her voice higher, flashing the bill she'd taken out earlier. "Fifty deposit. I break first." She laid the cash down.

"I say three-fifty. And a night with you if I win."

His mates laughed. None of them bothered withholding the leers. It was almost enough to make her skin crawl and seemed to prompt both Ben and Zane to tense behind her back. There was the slightest shuffle—a change in position. She imagined it was one of them preparing to jump in if need be.

"Deal," she nodded, satisfied. It was a good enough starting rate. Better by far than some she'd been forced to work with in the past. "Rack 'em."

She was jerked back suddenly. "Maxie, what do you think you're doing?"

Ben.

This wasn't part of her plan, but she rolled with it. Leaning further back, using him as the prefect tool to get the idiot's she'd challenged worked up a little more she smiled at him sweetly. "Hustling," she murmured softly. Though it would look like they were lovers having a mild disagreement or one of those sappy moments. "It'll get us a decent entry fee when we enter that poker game. Just relax. Play along."

"I could get you the money."

"We're not spending your money when I could take theirs," Max responded and pulled free. "Just trust me, Ben. Unless you want me to dance?"

"I don't like them."

"Dancing!" Zane insisted, catching the attention from the other group. Sheepishly, he lowered his voice. "I vote dancing."

With everything in place, Max picked up her cue and took aim at the solid little spheres set in their triangular formation. Thrusting the stick forward, she intentionally knocked it up at the last moment. Missing the shot and not breaking the configuration.

She heard Zane groan.

"Murray, she's as good as yours," someone chuckled.

'Murray' smirked charmingly at her. "How about we up the ante a little, since we haven't officially started? How's 'bout I bring the amount up to a thousand, if you win. If I win, it's five hundred and I can share you with them."

His friends muttered words of agreement amongst them. They made Max sick.

Twirling a lock of hair round her finger, Max pretended to consider. Drowning out Ben and Zane's angry sounding voices in the background. They were playing right into her hands. She smiled brightly. "Ok."

Zane let out a strangled sound.

"The deals off," Ben cut in and tried to take the cue from Max. "C'mon whatever you're tryin' to prove this isn't worth it."

"It is!" Max exclaimed. Forcing sulky petulance into her tone.

"It's too late," Murray smirked over at the squabbling pair. "She agreed to the terms of this little match. Next time pretty boy, you should keep your girl on a shorter leash. Then maybe she won't get herself into sticky... situations," he drawled patronisingly.

Max flung up an arm as Ben tried to step passed her and she pushed him back. "I can handle this," she assured him, brightly. When all she wanted to do was break her pool cue over Murray's head. "You said that you wouldn't interfere," she pouted prettily. "You promised me!"

Looking both irritated and baffled, Ben was hauled back from the table to watch by Zane.

Beaming, Max turned on Murray. "I want assurances," she began. Still in that irritatingly girly voice. "I want to see the 1G up front before we play."

"Very well." Murray nodded to his friends and they all chipped in. He set the money on the far side of table, away from where Ben and Zane stood watching. "So they don't get ideas," he explained.

Max shrugged, not really caring.

Positioning the cue, this time she didn't miss her target and watched as the balls shot around the table. Sinking three. Feigning ignorance, she glanced over the table and frowned. "That makes me evens, right?"

"How'd she—?" The podgy one from Murray's group began.

Undaunted, Murray shrugged. Observing over the butt of his cue. "Beginner's luck."

"Yes," Zane replied to Max's query. Sounding a nice mixture of disbelieving and strained. "That means you're evens."

"See, honey?" Smiling over at Ben, Max tossed her hair. Hoping she was playing the clueless female routine well enough. It had been a while since she'd acted that part. "I can play pool!"

Knowing that if she were to intentionally go for the throat right off would kill the night prematurely. Hoping too get at least another game out of the group before things turned ugly, Max angled her cue awkwardly and shot. The stick shot out, tapping her desired ball and sent that too into the table's pocket. The next shot she missed.

"She's playing with them," Ben said lowly. Max was sure the other's hadn't heard since their attention hadn't flickered from the game or made comment. "That shot she just missed was simple."

"No shit," Zane retorted. "Once this is over she'll have a thousand in hand."

Murray smiled at her. Then sunk three of his own in rapid succession.

He missed the next.

Pretending to look over her choice in shots, Max positioned her cue and carelessly took aim. The cue ball ricocheted around the table violently. Knocking a couple of Murray's balls out of place and setting up several of her own.

Allowing Murray to get another two shots.

"I take it back," Zane muttered. "She sucks."

"She knows what she's doing," Ben argued, staunchly.

There was a tsk. "Changed your tune now. What're you gonna do when he wins? Let him share her around his friends?"

And again, Murray missed.

"Max won't lose."

This time, Max was a little more careful with her shot and took out two of her balls in one go. It was an easy one, since both balls were practically already in the pocket and simply needed a gentle shove in the right direction. The eight was a little more difficult, but with a complicated snap of the cue—which also made her look like a total newcomer when the ball went flying into the air—then it fell. Bounced once. Twice and rolled home to the pocket.

Widening her eyes, affecting a look of delighted surprise she hastily swiped the money that had been set aside on the ledge of the table. Pocketed it and hugged Ben. "I won!" She exclaimed in exaggerated pleasure.

"Yeah," he murmured, looking surprised himself.

"First to three," Murray challenged. Not looking nearly as pleased as he had been not five minutes before. Nor did his friends, for that matter.

"Sorry," Max shook her head and slipped and arm through Ben's. "You never said how many rounds upfront."

Murray tossed his cue to his friend and took a threatening step closer. His group swarming with him, like a plague of ill smelling, badly dressed and perverted old men. "I said, I wanted a rematch."

Snapping from her role, Max pulled away from Ben. Her dark eyes flashing. "And I said, back off."

Murray seemed stunned for a moment before his face darkened. "She played us!"

"Don't take it too hard," she sassed back and ducked the hand that went to grab her. Catching his arm as it glanced passed, Max spun sharply and brought it up behind his back. Using a little more force than was necessary, she pressed him facedown into the ground and pulled hard. Dislocating his shoulder. "And you were about to share me with your friends. Personally, I think you got the better deal."

He let out a muffled curse from the floor, though she couldn't make out his words. His friends looked at her in a curious mixture of anger and surprise.

That was normal.

"Stick around and I'll do more than dislocate your arms," Max threatened.

Not wanting to stick around the girl who kicked their friend's ass without breaking a sweat and two seriously pissed off looking young men, Murray's friends fled. Dragging along the injured Murray behind them. Cowards, the lot of them. If Ben and Zane weren't there, Max knew they'd have tried their luck anyway. Guys like that were pack hunters and wouldn't chance it unless there was a three on one advantage to them.

"That's my Maxie. Still kicking ass," Ben beamed proudly.

"Damn girl," Zane blinked. "You're scary. You take karate lessons or something? Not to mention how fast you moved. Seeing you in action, you'd probably kick even Zack's ass."

Ben handed Max the cardigan that she'd removed earlier. She slipped it back on.

"I took a few mixed lessons in this and that," Max supplied vaguely, counting out the cash that she had just made. It was off by about two hundred but she hadn't really expected them to front the amount. "Living in New York, you sorta have to know some form of self defence. Mace only goes so far and is hard to come by."

"Lydecker have you on steroids, too?" Zane asked.

Laughing, Max pulled Murray's wallet from down her top and examined it's contents. Looked like she had made that 1G after all. "Guess so."

Before she could answer, another group of guys approached them. This one headed by a heavily set brunette. He was young, too. About as old as Ben. He was flanked on either side by guys equally as large and one beanpole with dyed green hair to match. All looking eager for a good ol' throw down.

Just great.

The ringleader Max had dubbed 'It' fixed his eyes on her. His expression was guarded and even she wasn't sure what to make of him or his intentions, exactly. He had no interest in her friends and he couldn't possibly want to fight her, could he? "Saw your little show," he commented.

No shit. She regarded him a moment longer before peering away. Interest lost. "What's it to you, big, dark and ugly?"

She didn't have to look at him to know she'd pissed him off.

"Isn't that one original?" he hissed, scathingly. "C'mon, Doll. I think my dog could bark up something better."

Twisting around to him, she let her eyes wander his tall well built form slowly. Insultingly and let the disgust show through in her expression. "Yeah, well he'd probably shit out something better looking than you, too."

"Listen here—"

"No, you listen to me," Max cut in. "If you're lookin' for a fight; get lost. I'm not interested. If you're wanting to play me; too back. Cuz we've got other places we gotta be."

He turned and shot a disgusted look at Ben who was staring back with a look of equal rancour. "So you are with this loser. I was hopin' that I was seeing things." He looked her up and down. "What a waste."

"The only 'loser' that I see here chubby, is you," Max murmured, falsely sweet. Angry on her friend's behalf.

But the guy paid her no attention. His dark eyes were now locked on Ben. The hatred plain on his face. "There's always one loser in the family," he spat at Ben, whose eyes were narrowed. "Least now it seems you've found a bitch willing to—"

He was sent sprawling before his sentence was out. Ben towering over him and Zane warily eying the three young men that had come with the now unconscious guy. Max slipped the money into her pockets in a show of nonchalance. Whatever happened next, she was more than ready for.

"Man, they're from your school's football team," Zane muttered under his breath, just loud enough for both Ben and Max to hear.

Ben shot Zane a look. "So?"

Zane, grabbed Ben by the back of his jacket. "Let's get outta here. Before we're banned and even Max batting her eye lashes at the bartender won't help us."

Forcefully, Ben was propelled across the floor and into the main room of the bar. Passed the other three guys that were seeing to their downed friend. One, Max saw was checking for a pulse. Their faces anxious, no one bothered to go after Ben as he was shoved up the stairs and vanished out the door, with Zane checking to see Max was following.

"Damn it, Ben!" Zane yelled once they were outside. "You have to be careful. You could have killed the guy. If you hit him any harder, you would have. He has a concussion as it is. What do you think Alec's gonna say when he finds out his brother was knocking out his team members one by one?"

"Who cares about what Alec thinks? We were heading out anyway—" Ben murmured indifferently. He turned back to Max. "You ready?"

"Whenever you are," she replied, tossing Murray's now empty wallet.

Zane was glaring. "I think you should call it a night," he said. "Or at least let me take Max home if you're gonna be like this. Think, man. She could get hurt if you let your anger go unchecked like that again."

"Maxie just showed us she was capable of taking care of herself."

Zane's tanned features were taut and his blue eyes narrowed. "Didn't stop you from stepping in regardless and knocking out some guy from your school. Did it, Ben? What happened to your self-restraint?"

"He called her a bitch," Ben returned flatly.

Wanting to stop them before they ended up in a fist fight as well, Max stepped between the two males. "Ben, people have called me things far worse than a bitch before. At least what he spoke was truth," She told him then turned to Zane, before Ben could say anything. "And I'm not leaving Ben—we had plans. I've got his back."

Sighing, Zane visibly deflated. An interesting thing to watch considering his far broader frame. "Where are you going? I'll tag along to make sure nothing gets outta hand."

"Sorry, pal," Ben flashed a rapier-sharp smile. "Not this time."

Silently, Max agreed. There was no way she'd make another ten grand in an hour. If she had more time perhaps he could go. But time wasn't on their side.

The blue eyed male studied Ben a minute assessing him before he caved. "Fine. Just be careful, all right? Van-dickward in there means that Alec and his posse got back early. I don't care how skilled you are, Ben. I don't want you getting into any more trouble or Zack will have my ass for not stopping you."

Max looked between them bemused.

She knew four years was more than enough time for something to change. Hadn't she herself undergone an almost complete transformation from neglected little rich-kid who tried to fit in with the boys, to a talented con artist and thief? Sometimes a second was all it took for a whole life to be altered and she hadn't seen Ben in almost two years.

As she peered back and forth between her old friends she came to the realisation that she hadn't been the only to have a complete overhaul in personality.

Zane as a child had been Zack's backup. The strong, level-headed sounding board to his older brother. The patient but playful, laid back one. Someone who never once doubted himself but here he was, uncertain of Ben who Max had already noted wasn't like he had once been. Sure, Ben still had his moments and she could glimpse the sweet boy he been at some point in the not so distant past. But she wasn't sure where the old Ben had gone.

"Worth a shot." Ben sounded like he'd enjoy the challenge regardless.

Shaking his head in frustration, Zane waved them off and went ambling away. Muttering under his breath all the while, though Max caught part of it. "Your funeral, buddy."

The pair watched him go before Ben turned to Max and slung an arm around her loosely. Like he wasn't sure whether she'd accept the gesture. "You're not angry at me, too. Are you, Maxie?" The words were uttered softly, like that of a child's. Seeking reassurance that shouldn't need to be given. Whatever suit of armour he had been wearing earlier had melted away, leaving a lonely little boy in it's wake. The fear of rejection in his every stance and uncertainty in his eyes.

She had never been able to deny Ben a thing. Not then and definitely not now. Relaxing into his side, she felt as his arm tightened around her in a one-armed embrace. She returned it. "That guy got what he deserved," she replied, speaking her thoughts. "You only did what I would have eventually done, had he kept it up."

"Then you don't want to call it a night?"

"We were working on getting you that bike. Remember?" She pointed out. "Unless you want to do it all on you own." She had made him a promise and was going to keep it. No more words needed to be said.

The next smile he flashed her brightened his whole face and chased the darkness from his eyes. "Then let's go. You've gotta give the name of this place."

This was the Ben she'd grown up with, the one easily hurt by a careless word or action.

She wondered if the darker side was just another facet of Ben's personality that she hadn't gotten the chance to see before she'd left. Or perhaps she simply hadn't noticed? "Yeah, yeah," Max grinned in return. Striding towards his car.

Maybe she hadn't lost her Ben after all.

Next chapter Alec returns! I just wanted this chapter to be focused around Max and Ben's interactions. And to reveal the changes in Ben's personality. Mostly just to show the contrast between the two brother's. Next chapter I can't promise a time frame on, mostly because I haven't started it yet and I'm no longer on break after this weekend.

Hope you enjoyed this one. Reviews always welcome.