DISCLAIMER: All DARK ANGEL characters belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee (Cameron Eglee Productions) and DARK ANGEL itself belongs to FOX.

ARCHIVE: No

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JRAUnlimited.com

British Eddy missed, but now Max is gonna kill me.

That was exactly what was going through Alec's mind as he limped up to the main gate of Terminal City, waved jauntily at the astonished X4 who'd pulled guard duty that morning, then slipped through the barrier as it was pulled open for him.

He didn't make it all the way to the control room. Joshua got to him first, the gigantic dog man bursting from the building to grab his friend up in a rib-creaking hug. "Alec!" the big guy said, his voice deep and husky with emotion. "You're alive!"

"And kickin'," Alec said, grimacing at the squeezing he was getting. However, his eyes were already on the slender figure dressed in black leather who was running across the street from the Art Mall.

"Nice of you to show up," Max said as she arrived, her voice clipped in that way only Max could achieve. "Where the hell have you been?"

Alec got his feet back on the ground, and nodded once to Mole who'd followed behind Joshua, the lizard man's only sign of emotion the violent chewing of the cigar dangling from his thin lips. Then he touched the wound on his forehead, a deep cut in his skin that was already starting to heal.

"Sorry if I've kept you waiting, Max," the X5 said dryly. "But I've been a little busy bein' shot and nearly drowned and all. Nice to see you too, by the way."

She was furious. He could tell by the fire in her eyes, and he wondered why the hell he actually found that reassuring. Because she'd only be this mad if she cares?

"You couldn't have called?" she said. "Let us know you were all right?"

"All right's stretchin' it," Alec said truthfully.

"At least have told us that you were alive?" Max persisted. "We wasted hours looking for you, and then Matt Sung called and there was a partially decomposed body we thought was you and I had to go to the morgue and--"

Alec could now see that Max was a lot more upset than he'd realized, and not in the angry kind of way. Unintentional as it was, he'd just put her through hell.

"My cell got wet and wouldn't work," he said quietly, looking directly into her eyes as he stood in front of her, relaxed and with both hands hanging at his sides -- giving himself up to her as it were. "As for the body, wasn't there I.D.?"

"No I.D.," Max said thickly. "Just a bloody corpse without a face that I thought was you for about an hour and a half."

Alec held her eyes for a long moment more, then knew what he had to do -- change the subject, and quickly. Looking away toward Mole, he put on a big smile, turned back, and clapped hands together. "Well, Daddy's home now so we can get back to business, and I say the first order of business is takin' care of some Steelheads."

"The first order of business is gettin' you to the infirmary," Luke said from behind him.

Alec turned, surprised he hadn't heard the little guy approach, which just went to show how exhausted he really was.

"You look like shit, Alec, and smell like it too," Luke continued, as always acting like a mother hen around his favorite X5 hero. "And you're soaking wet. I bet dollars to doughnuts that with that head wound you've got a concussion. Did you black out? Inhale water?"

"All of the above," Alec said, realizing that he did feel a bit dizzy, especially after holding his breath with damaged lungs for almost four full minutes while Flipper, as he'd now formally dubbed his merman friend, guided him through the tunnel that had led back to the outside world. Once he'd emerged, the X5 had found himself less than two miles from Terminal City -- an easy walk (under normal circumstances), but it had left his knees shaking as much from stress as from the chill November air on his wet clothes.

"Go dry off then report to the infirmary," Max said quietly, the anger suddenly gone from her eyes.

She still looked like she wanted to do something to him -- whether hit or hug Alec wasn't sure -- but at least she was calming down.

"I'll drop by and talk to you later about the Steelheads," she added.

Alec started to make his way down the street toward his TC apartment with Joshua following like a helpful puppy at his heels. But he suddenly had a thought and turned around. "Where's my bike?" he yelled, eyebrows drawing down with true concern.

"Safe in the garage!" Mole called back.

"You didn't start givin' away my stuff, did you?" the X5 added, walking backwards now, the alarming thought having just occurred to him.

"You mean your 'Hustler Magazine' collection?" Mole said innocently.

"Go!" Max ordered, breaking up the sideshow. "And quit worrying about your precious junk. Your memorial service wasn't until tonight, and Joshua wouldn't let anyone touch your things anyway."

Alec smiled, suddenly feeling better. He told himself it was because he'd just survived a close call and come out relatively unscathed with probably eight of his nine lives still intact. Not because of the look that had just flashed in Max's eyes -- a look that he'd rarely seen there, at least not for him.