Disclaimer: I own it! I found it in the bin outside ITV! Win!

A/N: For Brookii and the observation Max names his kids after the phonetic alphabet. The man has work issues... and other issues. Issues! lol

Chapter Nineteen;
Positives

As Max unlocked the front door, his ribs groaning a protest as he did, he dumped his overnight bag inside the doorway and looked down the hall towards the kitchen. Millie sat waiting for him, sitting at the kitchen table, flicking through a magazine. She looked up and Max gave her a smile. She raised an eyebrow. "Oh no, you're smiling, who's about to end up in traction?"

Max walked down the hall, leaning on his crutch, but Millie just watched him with a slight smile. "I could ask you the same thing." He pulled out the chair across from Millie and sat down. "And your smile means either good news or Mrs. Anderson baked another batch of cookies."

Millie stood up and went to the fridge. "Good news," she paused and looked back at him. "Oh and Mrs. Anderson baked cookies, they're on the table if you want one." She motioned to the pink box with a garish white ribbon on it. "I think she genuinely believes they'll bring Oscar back." She removed from the fridge. "Tea or coffee?"

"Irish coffee?"

Millie shook her head. "How many painkillers you on?"

"Enough." Max removed a cookie from the box, scraped off the coconut with a butter knife, then ate it. "Better make it tea then."

"Good idea." Millie flicked the kettle on and sat down again, next to him this time, glancing down at his leg. "How long until you're out chasing bad guys down all by yourself again?"

Max caught the slight change in tone. "I'm sorry." He gave her the bottom-lip-stuck-out face and Millie grinned, whacking him in the chest, having already forgotten the ribs. When he groaned she gasped.

"Sorry Max." She touched his rib softly, frowning to herself, and Max raised his hand to hers.

"It's okay." He was quiet for a second then glanced at her. "So, what's the good news?"

Millie withdrew her hand from under his and stood up, making for the kettle, taking two cups from the cupboard above the sink. "A few more leads on Jakowski's business in Southport." Max sat up a little straighter, ignoring the pain. "'Palenski' was part of a business venture, a restaurant, and when he left they started an arm down here." She poured the teas and carried them over. She seemed to pause for dramatic effect. "Arrested two weeks ago for running drugs out of the back kitchen."

Max nodded slowly and picked up his tea. "That was what I was waiting to hear." He took a mouthful then put the cup down. "Stamos?"

"They had a falling out back in Southport, there's a record of a bar brawl, so Inspector Smith thinks it was probably Stamos who sent the brick through our window to let us know about this restaurant connection." She smiled. "You know thieves and how they look out for one another." Max chuckled softly. "And your positive mood?"

Max thought back to his brief stint in hospital, waking up to find Millie there, despite what they'd gone through recently. What more than one nurse had said about her. He just shrugged silently however. "I can't be positive?" Millie raised an eyebrow and drank her tea silently. "Well that's uncharacteristically negative of you." He met her eye with a smile. "So, how long were you at the hospital then… Mrs. Carter?"

Millie swatted his elbow and stood again, carrying her cup back to the sink. "I didn't tell them that, they just assumed." Max nodded slowly, almost mocking. "This really stuck in your craw didn't it?"

"No." Max finished his tea and made to stand but Millie pushed him back down with a hand on his shoulder and took the cup. "I'm just wondering why you never took the name."

Millie leant against the sink and crossed her arms. "Oh come on Max, you know why - because nothing about us is normal." She rinsed out the cups and set them on the counter beside her. "And, honestly, I thought if I didn't take the name it would easier for you to cut and run when you wanted to."

"What?"

She shrugged, her expression impassive. "You only decided to get married after Oscar was born." She held up a hand. "It's okay Max, I'm not bitter about it, I'm not going to send you to the doghouse or something. I accept it." He started to speak but she cut him off again. "I love you and I know you feel the same way about me…"

"Of course I do."

"So there's no problems then." She came back to the table and fished into the box for a cookie but Max grabbed her hand. "Is this your way of saying you want me to change it, that you're not going to run out on me any time soon?"

"Well, I won't be around the next time your mother comes to visit," Millie laughed. "But I'll come back when she's gone."

"It's fine. The next time mum comes to visit I'll be as far away as possible too." She took a seat next to him again. "You must be really popping those painkillers, you're almost nice." He raised his eyebrows and she leant across and kissed him softly. "Nice Max is boring. How long before you're back on the street in full 'Max Mode'?" He frowned. "It's what I call those moments when you're so caught up in self-righteousness you forget anyone else exists."

"If anyone else spoke to me like that I'd hurt them."

"You'd glare at them until they cried, I know, I got that same treatment in the past." She leant her head on his shoulder. "We need to be positive, about finding Oscar, but I still worry."

"It's normal. You worry and think things through and I'll go… what is it? Max Mode? I'll go 'Max Mode' on London." Millie laughed softly. "Sound like a plan to you Mrs. Carter?"

Millie shook her head. "Stop that."

"What? I like how it sounds."

She raised an eyebrow. "That was scarily honest."

"I'm always honest." He pushed himself out of his seat. "Like; your turtleneck sweaters are the worst things I've ever seen, your mother scares me and Mrs. Anderson's cookies are awful."

"Ah, there's my friendly, social and tactful husband." Millie mocked with a smile. Max leant down and kissed the top of her head. "Where you off to?"

"Sleep. Those hospital beds are deceptive. They only look comfortable." Millie let him go knowing he wouldn't accept her help if she offered it and smiled softly to herself as she heard him groan or swear softly with every step he took upstairs. Then, checking her phone for any messages from Smithy, she went back to her magazine.