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"I can't believe I missed it," Alec whined for the tenth time. You and another chick, a cat fight, damn!" He was nursing a monster headache, but that hadn't dampened his irrepressible cockiness in the least.

Max sat across their cage from him, shaking her head in amazement. "I don't get it. I really don't. Why would me fighting another girl turn you on?"

Alec shrugged, the look in his eyes telling her he didn't know and didn't care. Then he had a thought. "Hey, Max. Don't tell me that watchin' me fight doesn't get you all hot and horny."

"It doesn't get me hot and horny," Max deadpanned. "It gets me scared."

"Come on. Truth," Alec said, challenging her with his eyes. "When I fought Dante for you back in Terminal City it really got your juices flowin'. Admit it."

"I was in heat," she said levelly. "That's different. A girl in heat expects an alpha to fight for her."

"Well, maybe a guy expects his girl to fight for him too," Alec countered.

Max snorted. "Good thing I won then, pretty boy. 'Cause I can't quite picture you between Big Bertha's legs."

"Big Bertha?" Alec said with a gulp. "How big we talkin' here, Max?"

"Let's just say her name suits her," Max replied. "Right down to the triple D jugs."

Alec was looking a bit queasy. "You don't think they'd have tried and put me with -- her, do you? I mean if you'd lost?"

Actually, that idea hadn't occurred to Max, and it amused her that Alec even thought the female soldier would have been interested in him. "Don't worry," she said with mock seriousness. "I imagine your transgenic status will keep you safe from the Army sluts, no matter how cute they think you are. Can't go contaminating the gene pool."

"Besides," Alec added with a sly grin. "You'll protect me, won't you, Maxie? Keep the other females off your turf."

Max crossed the cage and put her arms around his neck, bringing their faces close. "Keep 'em off my turf is right," she said seductively in his ear. "No one touches my man but me." Her hand trailed down his belly to rest lightly between his legs. Her gentle caress (plus the topic of conversation) was all it took to make him respond and Max grinned wickedly.

Then they remembered the camera. With a heavy sigh and an evil glance in its direction they settled for gently touching lips, after which Max curled up in Alec's lap for a well deserved night's rest.

*****

"Monty Cora," Alec said before the announcer could ask him his fighting name. Why not stick with a good thing?

Standing at the side of the caged ring, barefoot and shirtless, Alec bounced lightly on the balls of his feet as he flexed his hands. He didn't need much of a warm up, not for an easy fight like this, but there was still a benefit to getting the old blood flowing.

He and Max had spent nearly 24 hours sitting in their cage -- waiting, anxious, and, truth be told, bored. Alec still thought Lydecker had to be behind their capture and incarceration, but until he showed his hand they couldn't be sure. And then there was always the possibility that prison doctor might return with orders to perform sterilization surgery on them after all. If McKinley ever got wind of their capture ...

Alec didn't want to complete that thought. But he did think it was probably time to begin figuring a way to break out of this hell hole. However, before he and Max could come up with a plan, the guards came for him.

"No need for those, boys," Alec said with a grin, holding his hands in the air and nodding at the wicked shock prods they were once again carrying. "I'll come peaceable."

In the distance he could hear the shouting just like before. Last night had been Max's turn in the spotlight. Tonight was "Monty Cora's."

This was, however, a bit different from Annie's cage fights or the classier arena Alec had graced in that underground mobster's club back in Seattle. Not one, but two mean looking fighters came through the mesh door onto the canvas floor to stand facing him, their expressions filled with hatred for the filthy transgenic.

Alec's green eyes widened briefly, then he looked over at the referee and shrugged. "Okay," he said easily. Someone in the crowd threw a beer can at the cage and Alec ducked as it bounced off the mesh near his head.

"Kill the freak!" a voice screamed. "Tear him apart!"

Alec knew that Max had apparently won her fans over the night before. However, he was beginning to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach about the gathering tonight. They didn't appear to be such good sports, and he wondered what would happen when he mopped up the floor with their two champions.

Only one way to find out.

His opponents were large specimens, each one at least a head taller and outweighing him by a hundred or more pounds. The scars on their torsos, bullet and knife wounds, bore mute testimony to their combat experience.

If Alec had had a normal human's physiology, even in top shape and as an expert martial artist, he still probably wouldn't have stood a chance in that ring. But 494's preternatural strength and speed were bred into him, and his fighting skills, thanks to months of practice, honed even beyond Manticore's standards.

The two soldiers charged him together, from both sides, only to find their victim simply wasn't there any longer. Blurring, Alec took one from behind, immobilizing him in a choke hold. He could easily have broken his neck, but that would have been stupid, incurring the wrath of their captors and probably assuring his own annihilation. Instead, he merely exerted pressure, making the guy's eyes bulge while delivering a lightening fast right uppercut to the other fighter's jaw that brought the sound of crunching bone.

Ten seconds after it started, the fight was over, both of the prison's champions lying stretched out cold on the canvas at the transgenic's feet.

Alec held his head high, not even trying to quite keep the egotistical smirk off his face. Genetically empowered ... "better" ... he loved it when his confidence in himself was proven right. Because, unlike Max who carried a sense of deep shame about her body, Alec was very proud of who and what he was.

However, the crowd wasn't cheering. They were muttering, angry sounds interspersed with harsh curses and slurs thrown in his direction. Alec shifted uneasily on his feet, suddenly very aware of just how trapped he was in that cage surrounded by dozens of hard core military criminals. Transgenic strength or not, that crowd could tear him apart if they wanted to -- literally.

He glanced over at the referee, eyebrows raised. Technically he should be declared the winner and new champion. But the ref wouldn't meet his eyes, instead looking away toward the cage door.

Alec followed his gaze, and what he saw on the other side of the wire mesh made his heart first turn over in his chest then leap into his throat.

That long flowing red hair was unmistakable, those cold murderous eyes even moreso. It had been a long time ... almost three years ... but she hadn't changed at all since the last time he'd seen her, bound so ignominiously to a post with packing tape on the upper floor of Jam Pony.

A Purebred. A Familiar. Thula. And one of the few creatures on Earth who probably could indeed kick his ass.