Fiction TGoM- Chapter Eighteen

Title: The Glory Of Manticore

Author: Restive Nature

Rating: up to NC-17

Disclaimer- I in no way, shape or form own the characters of Dark Angel or X-Men or anything related to them. I simply like to play with them for a short while.

Summary: Max is once again on the run. But this time a safe haven awaits her in the form of Professor Xavier’s School for Gifted Children.

Pairing: M/L

Chapter Eighteen

It didn't take them long to reach the hotel once they had entered New York proper. Max had simply pulled over before the edge of the city limits and waited for Scott and Jean to catch up with them. She had noticed in her rearview mirror that Scott had tried to keep up with them directly after the gas station, but after about ten minutes, he had eased off. Still, he wasn't that far behind them.

He didn't slow as he passed them, but Max was easily able to pull out behind him and stay with him on into the city. It helped that there was a good break in traffic flowing in and out of the city. Scott knew the route to the hotel fairly well, since he had stayed there at various times in the past, either with the professor, with Jean or with the rest of the team in various forms. At one point, there had been valet parking for the fancy well known chain hotel, but that had fallen by the wayside after the pulse. They only catered to that need if there was a big function happening in the hotel, such as a ball, thrown by the elite of New York, or a conference going on. And there wasn't anything like that going on this weekend, so they were on their own, for parking. But Scott also knew that there was underground parking for hotel customers across the street. He slowed enough and indicated the turn well ahead of doing so and Max turned right after him.

Talking with the employee in the booth, controlling entry and exit to the parking structure, Scott purchased two weekend parking passes for the vehicles. While it was great to have the vehicles there if needed, it actually made more sense to use the still abundant cabs that littered the greater part of the city. The headache of driving in the city was still prevalent, despite the devastation the streets had seen. New York had a reputation for surviving disasters and coming out of it bigger, better and stronger. But still, there was a lot of devastation to repair and if one had only visited rarely or not at all, would the changes seem sudden.

Scott pulled away and noted there was no hesitation on Max's part as she followed after them. He figured that Logan must have heard his conversation with the parking attendant and informed her that Scott had purchased her fees as well. They managed to find two parking spots together and the sudden quiet of the engines in the cavernous underground area was startling. Used to this, from flying and riding his own motorcycle, Scott gathered up the remains of the iced tea that Logan had purchased for him, saved just for this reason. The long swallow left, achieved the purpose of helping his slightly plugged ear drums into “popping” and the noise level returned to what it should be. He also had gum, should it have been necessary. As he climbed out of the vehicle, he noted that none of the others seemed to be having trouble with the noise level.

With the key for the trunk in hand, he made short work of removing the luggage, with Logan's help. He bit back a smile, similar to the one he wore when they had packed the trunk, at seeing Logan's battered duffle bag, that he had borrowed from Rogue. Max had been sporting a similar bag, earlier in the day, but Storm had offered to lend Max her own luggage. Max had remarked that it would probably be better for the dress that she had purchased for the weekend and gracefully aqcuiesed. The soft ivory set was familiar to Scott again, since Storm had travelled several times with it, with them.

Logan however, was not familiar with the luggage sets, but he still unnerrngly picked up Max's bags and his own, leaving Jean and Scott's to the other male. Scott finished grabbing the last small bag before shutting the trunk, making sure it was latched. Scott wondered if there was going to be a power struggle, such as what he and Jean had been discussing earlier in the car, when Max moved to take her bags from Logan. But the other man simply muttered that he could take it if she wanted. Max seemed to settle quickly on a compromise that she carried the shoulder bag, while Logan shouldered the duffle bag and hefted up the large suitcase. She gave him a quick thanks and caught up with Jean, also carrying her own shoulder bag and Scott's, since they had packed their clothes together, so there were no his and hers suitcases.

Max blinked only slightly as they exited the underground parking structure that Scott had led them into. She hadnt even thought to ask what they would do for parking, assuming that with a hotel, there had to be something. But she was relieved that her motorcycle would be protected while she wasn't there. The imposing structure across the street, she was sure, would not enjoy the placement of vehicles of any size within the lobby or God forbid, the rooms themselves. And Scott was being sweet, paying for her pass as well as his own. She did mention it to Jean, knowing that she would thank Scott later, in private. Jean just smiled and told her that it made more sense to take a cab, especially when they were going to be out and about all over the city and that drinking was most definitely going to be involved. Max didn't bother to tell her, that with her transgenic metabolism, drinking wasn't a hindrance like it was to a normal human.

She glanced back at Logan, over her shoulder and saw the smirk on his face as he and Scott brought up the rear of their party. She grinned conspiratorially with him, figurng out quickly, that with his healing mutation, well, he probably had little to worry about with drinking as she did. Probably even less.

The doorman that opened the doors for their party was thrown thank-yous from each of them, but the sight that greeted Max caught her up short for just a moment. Golden and glowing, the lobby of the hotel was precisely what she had expected, but still, caught her by a moment's surprise every time she saw it.

“Problem?” Jean asked in a soft, low voice, meant for her alone. Max shook her head and picked up her pace for a half step so that she wasn't impeding the men behind her.

“Not at all,” she chuckled, sure that Jean would understand. “It just always takes me by surprise, places like this.”

“Places like what?” Jean sounded curious, but not overly so, like this was just an ordinary conversation between friends. And perhaps that was what the redhead was striving for. There was still some tension between the two women, but both were working in their own ways to overcome it.

“Places that go on, like the pulse never happened,” Max replied easily. It wasn't a criticism, merely an observation.

It could have been easy to say that the devastation was worse on the West Coast, when the pulse had occurred, but that was untrue. The nature of the beast was that it had attacked not an isolated area but the network of the nation. Everything had been interconnected, through their computerized lives and by attacking that, the devastation shook everything that was dialled in. So that not only was America torn down, but their allies that hid under the blanket of the supposed superpower of the world's protection and leadership.

“Well, money covers a lot of sins,” Jean grinned. It wasn't that she was blind to it all, Max was sure, just that enough time had passed to recover and for certain blasé attitudes to reassert themselves. It was the same for Max, who had actually been grateful for the pulse. It made it so much easier to disappear from the radar of the government agency that had been searching for her. And if it sounded callous when she thought it, she knew in her heart that it wasn't, but when people were concentrating on their own miseries, it was easier for her turmoil and troubles to be ignored by the masses. And that was exactly the way she needed it. Survival was much easier when it was just her ass on the line. That was a lesson she was relearning, having settled in Los Angeles and then Seattle for much longer than she should have.

“Doesn't make the sins go away though,” Max rejoined as they crossed the immaculately kept parquet tile floor. Jean veered off slightly and approached the concierge station, leaving room for Scott and Logan. Max would have been confused, but she knew that the reservations made were under Scott's name. Which was smart, since the emlpoyees knew his name. And thinking such, she wasn't surprised to see him greeted with a modicum of polite enthusiasm of a repeat customer.

Their business was swiftly taken care of and Max, briefly sighed a slight breath of relief. The concierge had handed Scott four key cards in their little gold envelopes, with scrolled and scripted printing.

They deposited their bags on the cart brought to their sides by the bag boy who came to attention the moment the concierge glanced his way. Max grinned when Logan gave the boy a gruff once over, but refrained from saying anything. They all followed after the boy as he led them to the bank of several elevators. The gathered inside for a smooth ride for what Max saw was the seventh floor. That wasn't too bad. She wondered what her view would be like. When they were let off, the oppulence that coated the lobby was contnued in it's only slightly understated way in the halls. She overheard Jean murmuring to Scott that after they settled in, they could reconvene and see what everyone wanted to do this afternoon. And that was fine by Max.

The bag boy halted about mid way down the hallway from the elevators and Max noted quickly, where the other exit points were. Ingrained habit, she told herself, dismissing the thought, even though the infromation was stored in her brain immediately. With what had to be a master key pass, he swiftly opened the the two neighboring doors on the right hand side of the hallway.

“The single suites,” he murmured without glancing at the members of the party. There was only a moment's pause as Max realized that there must have been three rooms, not four as she had assumed, but that made sense that Jean and Scott would share a suite. The two extra cards were for the same room, but one ofr each of them then. He then turned and moved to the door across the hall, opening it for Jean and Scott. “The double suite,” was offered in the same muted tone.

“Your choice darlin',” Logan's voice cut across the silence, though he wasn't loud. Max grinned as she lifted up her shoulder bag and moved into the room closest to her, on the left, just like back at the mansion. Either way it didn't matter to her. All hotel room swere essenstially the same in that there should be a bed, bath and television. Anything else was cake. Or frosting, depending on your social stature in this world. With an answering grin that made Max wonder if Logan was thinking similar thoughts, he picked up his duffle bag. He probably wasn't one for all this pomp and circumstance, like her.

Max entered her room and found that it was just as she had expected. Though a little more grand. The bedroom was separate from the rest of the room. There was indeed a bathroom and Max could see that the tub was huge and she promised herself that she would definitely take advantage of that. It was still a luxury in her world to have that much free running hot water. There was a nicely appointed loveseat and matching chair across from an armoire that held the entertainment center, meaning the television and the mini bar.

Max took this all in as she made her way across to enter the bedroom. The bed was queen sized, which almost made her snort in amusmenet. It wouldn't be seeing much action from her, but it wouldn't hurt if and when she decided to take a nap. She noted that the bell boy had grabbed her suitcase, having deduced it was hers, as it matched the shoulder bag she had taken and had very politely followed as far as the door to the bedroom.

“Where may I put this ma'am?” he asked when her attention turned back to him. Max chuckled at being ma'amed at her age, but then, she had been in the same boat when she was delivering packages at Jam Pony. If one wanted a tip, then politeness was the name of the game.

“On the bed please,” she directed. The bell boy hopped to, even as Max was pulling some bills out of her pocket. She withdrew a five from the bundle and pressed it into his hand. He smiled widely at her and then stepped out of her way.

“All of the hotel infromation is in this packet,” he told her, gesturing to the leather covered folder on the dresser. “If you need an outside line, please dial “9” on the telelphone to reach the concierge. Also, our room service is open from five am until eleven pm. I hope you enjoy our stay with us Miss Guevara.”

“I'm sure I will,” Max responded in the same polite uninterested tone that she was given. Professionalism always had it's place in the world, she supposed. The young man moved off and she heard him move next door to her, giving Logan the same rundown. She had to giggle though when the bell boy was brushed off with a “got it kid, thanks.”

Max left her door to the hotel room slightly ajar, but lef the bedroom door wide open. She knew that they would be getting together to plan the afternoon. She herself had no plans really, aside from the need to find herself a fence to sell the jewelry she had purloined from earlier heists. Thinking of that now, she moved over to the discreetly appointed safe settled under the nightstand table beside the bed. As she read over the instructions, she snorted to herself in derision. These models were so ridiculously easy to crack that there was no way she would ever keep anything in one. But it was a good distraction. With another smile, she set the process of locking up her “valuables” in motion. That way, if a thief were to somehow enter her room, they would make straight for the safe and be distracted with the thoughts of what might be ensconsed inside, which in this case, was absoliutely nothing.

Instead, Max went with the simple innovation of removing a lower dresser drawer ans taping the slim package that held the loot against the back of the dresser pannelling. Knowing from experience that most run of the mill thiefs simply pulled the drawers out to rifle through, starting at the bottom and working their way up, would not pull the drawers all the way out to search the furtniture structure itself. Experimenting a bit with the drawer, she found that the added bulge did not impede the drawer and once it was replaced, nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

She had returned to her luggage and was just removing the dress from the case, that she had chosen to bring to wear when they attended the little jazz club that Scott had gone on about, when she heard the thumping at the outer door that indicated someone was knocking at the door. Max made the adjustments of the skimpy straps on the provided hanger and letting the material slip into the closet, before she stuck her head out into the main room. She saw Logan lounging in the doorway, waiting for her to answer and as soon as she appeared, he straightened up.

“You ready for the pow wow across the hall, darlin'?” he asked gruffly.

“Just need to finish putting up my clothes,” Max gestured with her thmb over her shoulder. “Have a seat if you want,” she invited and was pleased to see him stroll comfortably into the room, pushing the door shut behind him. It didn't bother her, since she had left the door open as she was expecting him, Jean or Scott at one point or another and with his words, it was apparent where they were expected to gather as a group.

There wasn't really much left for her to do, other than put her few extra changes of clothes in the appropriate drawers. The shoulder bag, she carried to the bathroom and deposited it on the counter. She did note that her hair, while for the most part, protected on the ride up by the expediency of tucking it into her jacket, still had the slightly windblown appearance to it. She quickly dug out her brush and ran it through her tresses a few times until the tangles and knots were out and it was restored to neat order. Or as neat as her curls would allow. She set the brush beside the bag and exiting the bathroom, clicked off the light switch.

“All set,” she announced, noting that Logan was simply leaning against the back of the sofa, instead of having taken a seat, as she had invited him to do. His eyes had been following her progress and she was surprised to find that she didn't mind that. She knew that she had been built to be beautiful by Manticore and so she had put up with attention from both genders, for various reasons, all her life. But this was the first time that such avid interest didn't annoy or bother her. It was unsettling though, in a way that she had only come to associate with her heats. But, she mentally shook her head. She wasn't due for a heat for quite some time. Once again, it was an interest that could potentially lead to trouble and she was on the whole, unceratin how to handle it. Perhaps that was why she was so invested in the weekend.

Living in the mansion with the others and Logan, even for the short time she had been there, had once again provided structure and order. It wasn't her own, but it was in place for the students there. It was a reassuring thing, as much as she didn't like to think about it. It was possible for regular humans, or utants, as the case may be, to desire and subscribe to order. It was nature's tendency to abhor a vacuum, or chaos. Everything had a rhyme and reason to it. So it was okay for Max to indulge in it without feeling that she was succumbing to Manticore's clutches in any way.

But at the same time, she had settled into that order with no fuss, no hesitation and that on some level scared her. She didn't understand what it meant for her, to find something so easily. In truth, it did scare her on some level because to her, nothing lin life ever came easily. And this, aside from Jean's unwanted and invasive foray into her mind, was easy and inviting and comfortable. Logan most of all. And for Max, who had been living on the run for the last ten years, she could easily see the dangers of letting any of her guards down.

What she wanted out of this weekend, she supposed to herself, was the chance to judge Logan away from the confines of the maniosn. Despite the fact that he didn't seem to fit there in the same way tat she didn't, being a mutant, he had more claim to the place and the people, than she herself did. So there was a comfort there for him. And Max wanted to know if it was the comfort of the place tat had led to her comfrot with the man. Or if the comfrot of the man was a tangible entity of it's own. And then, maybe then, she would know what to do, how to handle what was essentially, brand new territory for her.

Logan seemed to abe no hesitation in allowing her to be first out of the door and it was only a matter of steps to be infront of Jean and Scott's hotel room door. Before she ould decide how to act, Logan had reached out and rapped smartly on the dooe, two sharp knocks. Scott answered almost immediately, attesting to the fact that they were waiting for the other half of the vacationing foursome. He smiled widely and opened the door to accomadate their entry. Logan hung back a moment to allow Max entry first.

She could tell in a glance that their room was just as well appointed as her own was. But that was nether here nor there.

“Jean'll be out in a minute,” Scott explained as he shut the door behind Logan, jerking his chin in the direction that Max assumed to be the bedroom. “She wanted to hand her clothes bnefore they became too wrnkled.”

“Not a problem,” Max grinned. She was well versed by now, in the mystiques of the feminie wardrobe. She was also well aware how often men came away from this just as puzzled as she had once been. She wondered idly how long Jean and Scott had been together that it was no longer a mystery to the male, but accepted fact. Of course, it may have een something he had learned in the course of nother relationship. Not that it was any of her business.

Before a topic of conversation could be brouht up, Jean emerged from the bedroom, smiling just as widely as her boyfriend was. “So,” she began as she took a seat on the small loveseat in the main area of the room. “What are we planning for the rest of the day?” She glanced around, including Scott in that. “We still have a lot of the afternoon left. We could do some sight seeing or shopping. Maybe get dinner.”

“Or take in a show,” Scott suggested easily, his eyes also trained on the duo across from him. Max chanced a glance at Logan who had relaxed back into his seat. His eyes were on her, questioning and she wondered moentaarily iof he was waiting to hear what she wanted to do so that he could make his own plans or if he was content to go along with the crowd. That was another thing that puzzled her.

There had been moments of standoffishness between them and Max had tried hard to believe that it was his issues with personal things and not anything to do with her. And she could assume that to be the truth, but she had seemed to be the one he avoided. But then, she also didn't know what his patterns of behavior had been before she had arrived at the school. And from the suttlebutt going around the school among the children, who didn't seem to know Logan much better than she herself did, all his recent behavior ws strange. But then, Logan always had been slightly awesome in a way. And not the hero worship invoking kind either. Except in a few female cases.

“Which one were you thinking of?” Jean asked softly of the other man not in Max's scope of thought right then. Scott settled back slightly.

“There's a revival of Chicago that's close to being sold out,” Scott recited apparetly from memory. “And a couple others that we can get last minute tickets to. I had to reserve the tickets in advance and if we're interested, call the agent back as soon as possible.”

Max frowned just slightly. She knew the story of Chicago, as her old roommate Kendra had the home video version of it and they had watched it one night. The elaborate outrageousness of the show had amused Max at the time, but it was not soemthing she was interested in seeing again. She was a much more hands on person, that preferred doing to sitting and watching. Maybe if it were one of those old time murder mystery dinner theaters, where the audience got to participate, then she could go for it. She sighed a little and then had to smile herself as Jean chuckled.

“Not your cup of tea?” the redhead asked archly. Max wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

“Not really,” she murmured. “My old roommate had the video and I have the story memorized, given the number of time she watched it. I doubt I would enjoy it much.”

“Well,” Scott offered quickly, “there's a different feeling to it altogether when you see it performed live. But please, don't feel pressured.”

Max continued to grin at the duo. “I actually like the sound of getting out and doing some sight seeing. It's been so long since I was last in the area. And stretching my legs a little would be a good thing.”

“Well, we're up here more often than that,” Jean chuckled, “so cnsider this your weekend for fun and we're just along for the ride for the most part.” She slanted her glance to the man seated in the other seat. “Any thoughts Logan?”

“Whatever you want is fine by me,” he answered, most laconically. Max caught a gliont of mischievous humor in the other woman's eyes before Jean clapped her hands down on her thighs and nodded.

“Dress shopping on Fifth Avenue it is then!”

Max couldn't contain her laughter a both males groaned and rolled their eyes. Jean joined in just half a beat later and leaned over to sneak a quick peck on Scott's cheek.

“Actually Max, why don't we hed out and see where we end up, sight seeing, shopping, whatever?” Jean suggested, which was fine by Max.

“And us poor, lowly males?” Logan drawled, smirking at the fun the girls were having ta their expense.

“You can do precisely the same, or stay put watching the sports channel,” Jean shrugged one shoulder. “Just as long as you meet us for dinner and then we can go from there. I think I would like to go out to the theater.” She turned to Scott. “It's been a while.”

“That's a plan then,” Scott nodded. He glanced at Logan and Max. “If you don't mind, that is.”

“Don't need a baby-sitter Stretch,” Logan grumbled, only slightly under his breath.

“What he said,” Max agreed, gesturing with her thumb in Logan's direction. Scott nodded and rose from his seat, making his way to the room's telephone.

“Italian okay with everyone tonight?” Jean murmured. She seemed to beliee she had assent when no one made an outcry against it. Max didn't mind either way as she wasn't a picky eater. She pulled out her cell phone and a telephone book, looking it seemed, for a specific place. Once she had found it, she called wuickly for evening reservations, which she managed to get, though they would have to be there at precisely seven on the dot. She promised it would be done and just like that, their plans for the day were accomplished.


Chapter Nineteen