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None of them ever told Alec how he'd really been saved ... about the forbidden transfusion given secretly in the dead of night. As far as the X5 was concerned, it was Joshua's tender loving care that pulled him through. (After all, Max had never so much as visited him while he recovered, or even asked after his welfare.) Six hours after the antibodies from Max entered Alec's bloodstream, his fever broke, and by the next evening he was sitting up in bed drinking soda and craving French fries.

That had been 10 days ago. Now, a fully recovered X5-494 was sitting jauntily on Logan's couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, making double entendre remarks about the tight little black dress Max was wearing to another one of Eyes Only's parties.

"Shut up," Max said as she pulled down the back of the extremely "mini" dress. "You're here because Logan's expecting an important informant to call in tonight, and we need a live person on this end to assure him the deal's legit, not to ogle my boobs."

Logan tossed a file into Alec's lap. "Here's the information. When Jerry calls, tell him the deal's on, and I have a safehouse waiting for him. With luck, we'll be able to stop the black market suppliers who've been stealing the new vaccine."

Alec mock-saluted the older man, set the file aside, and went back to flipping channels on the television.

"There's food in the 'fridge," Logan added caustically. "Knock yourself out."

"Have a good time, kids," Alec replied, waving them away. "Oh," he added with a sly wink, "and be sure and have her home by midnight."

Max scowled and made a rude gesture with her middle finger in the X5's direction. But Alec was already totally absorbed in a rap video.

*****

It was shortly after Max's fictitious curfew when the ringing phone awakened Alec. (He'd fallen asleep on the couch during a National Geographic documentary about birds.) The informant had called hours earlier, the business taken care of, so he hesitated about answering. Logan's machine could take a message. However, it was late, and they weren't back yet. He picked up the receiver.

"Alec," Logan said, his voice rather breathless. "I need your help."

"Don't tell me," Alec said, "You're tied to the train tracks again?"

"No. It's Max. We had an argument."

"Again? Geez, whatever happened to true love?"

"Shut up. We had words and she left the party by herself. I'm assuming she's not back there?"

"No sign of her," Alec replied truthfully. "And what is it about your parties that bring out the dark side of your lady anyway?"

"She was in a really bad frame of mind when she left," Logan continued, ignoring him. "I don't want her wandering around the city by herself."

"And you want me to go find her?" Alec said, seeing where this was headed.

"Please. You can access places I can't -- know people who might have seen her."

"And when I do track her down?"

"Tell Max I love her, and that I want her to come home."

"All right," Alec said lazily, stretching and reaching for his black leather jacket where he'd tossed it over a chair. "But I expect to get overtime pay for this."

"Just ... find her," Logan admonished before hanging up.

Find her. Yeah. Real easy, Alec thought as he shrugged on his jacket. Just like always. And then talk her into coming back to Logan.

*****

His first stop, of course, was Crash. Max wasn't there, but O.C. was playing pool with a fine new lady friend. Unfortunately, she hadn't seen her Boo all evening. Deciding to hang out a bit in case Max showed, Alec ordered a Scotch at the bar, then had two more to fortify himself against the cold rain that was starting to come down outside.

An hour passed. The place would be closing soon. Which is when Alec turned his attention to where he knew Max really was -- the Space Needle. Looming high above the decaying city, a reminder of better times gone by, the landmark was one of her favorite haunts, and where she went when she wanted to be alone.

Paying the tab, Alec hunched his shoulders against the weather, and headed for the parking lot and his motorcycle. It took him 15 minutes to reach the Needle, and another five to climb the stairs. By the time he made the observation deck, it was raining cats and dogs. Looking on up the dark stairwell, nostrils slightly flared and pupils dilated, he picked up neither scent nor sound, no sign at all that Max had been here tonight. Maybe it was too wet, he reasoned. Maybe she'd gone to ground someplace else.

He was about to check the roof anyway, when a faint noise to his right made Alec turn. The doorway of the long abandoned restaurant beckoned. But Max wouldn't have gone in there, would she?

He entered the large dining area slowly, cautiously, skirting tables still covered by moth-eaten linen, well aware that what he had heard might not be Max, but rather someone else, a vagrant holing up from the weather perhaps, or even a cop on rounds. Then lightening flashed, and he saw her, silhouetted against the observation window on the far side of the room.

He started to call out her name, but for some reason didn't. Instead, he crept across the frayed carpet, assassin quiet. She was totally absorbed with looking out at the night. He was almost on top of her before she sensed his presence, and turned with a small gasp, her arm striking at his face. He barely managed to catch her wrist.

"Alec?" she breathed, her breasts straining against the satin material of that little black dress in her brief moment of panic.

Alec couldn't help it. His eyes moved down, the site of her cleavage too much for his Y chromosomes to ignore.

Max, of course, knew full well where he was looking. Yanking her arm free of his grip, she slugged him hard across the jaw.

For the rest of his life, Alec never could explain his reaction to that blow. Maybe it was the strain of the past year catching up to him; maybe it was the three strong Scotches he'd had at Crash; or maybe it was simply because he was sick and tired of having to be such a "good boy" for Max all the time.

But all of a sudden, he didn't want to be a "good boy" any more. He wanted to be bad.

It was payback time -- payback for all the belittling, all the insults, all the groveling she'd made him do for the past two years. Payback for her never realizing how hard he was trying.

Payback for not seeing how much I love you.

Grabbing hold of the offending hand, he twisted Max's arm and threw her face down over a nearby table. Sweeping napkins, utensils, and ancient condiments out of the way, he then grabbed both of her small hands in his big one, forced them over her head, and pinned her body with his. She tried to lash out with her feet, but the heel of his palm pressed on her neck, pushing her face into the dusty tablecloth so hard she couldn't breathe. It would take only the slightest pressure to snap vertebrae -- and Max knew it. His strength was greater than hers.

"Alec?" Max whimpered, the psychological shock of his brutal attack stunning her almost as much as the physical reality.

Her dress had hiked up in back, and he could feel her buttocks pressing against his groin, the sensation obscenely arousing. Keeping her neck pinned beneath his elbow, Alec moved his free hand down her heaving body until his fingers cupped her ass, the silk of her tiny black panties smooth beneath his palm.