Fiction TGoM- Chapter Seven

The Glory Of Manticore
Restive Nature
Rated: 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.
Timeline: This is a slightly AU story. It takes place more in Max’s timeline, with the pulse occurring. It begins after the episode ‘Blah Blah, Woof Woof" It doesn’t affect the X-men much, as Professor Xavier is affluent enough to afford the best in life. It also takes place after the first X-men movie, but as I haven’t seen the second one, I’ll leave that stuff alone.
Pairing M/L
Summary: Once again Max is on the run. But this time she is led to a safe haven.



Chapter Seven



"Good evening Max," Charles smiled at her. She couldn’t help smiling back. It was smarter to garner a friendly relationship with these people. They would be more inclined to help her. But she had no intentions of developing attachments to them. She had done that in Seattle and had almost gotten more than she could handle in problems.



"Good evening," she replied, including everyone in the gesture.



"I trust your room is acceptable?" Charles was the consummate host.



"Other than being warned about the snoring machine who shares a wall with me, I think it will be perfect," she laughed, glancing in Logan’s direction. She had to admit to herself that had a very virile presence. But at the moment, she was having more fun teasing him than admiring his dark, broody looks. He took her bait easily.



"I’ve never had complaints before," he growled.



"You’ve probably never stayed in one place long enough," she smirked, unconsciously hitting the nail on the head. Jean and Scott gaped at her. Rogue was quietly fuming, outraged that her idol was being attacked this way. "Oh, settle down, I was just teasing."



"Just so long as you don’t snore yourself," Logan teased back, visibly relaxing.



"I don’t sleep long enough to snore," Max shrugged.



"Well," Charles interrupted before they could attack again, "what have you planned for this evening Max?"



"Well, I thought I might take a look at my motorcycle," she explained. "I heard it making weird noises. I think the carburetor needs to be cleaned."



"I can take a look at it if you like," Scott offered. Max was already shaking her head.



"Thank you, but no," she declined. "I prefer to take care of it myself."



"Yeah," Logan sneered, "no one touches her baby but her."



"He’s just ticked off because I’m a self-sufficient female who doesn’t need a big strong man to save me," she retorted.



"It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other," Scott decided, secretly pleased that Logan was getting some of his own back. He pushed the pettiness he was feeling aside, to be savored at a far more private moment. "There is an area in the garage where we work on the vehicles. I’ll show it to you after dinner."



"That would be great," Max accepted gracefully. She ignored the dark look that Logan sent her way. The rest of the meal passed swiftly. Afterwards, Scott led Max down to the garage. She admired the neat, orderly room. Scott blushed slightly at the compliment. He began to gather the necessary items they would need. Max laid a drop cloth on the floor for them to work on. Scott opened the large bay door so Max could bring her motorcycle in.



As she wheeled her Ninja in, she saw that Scott had brought another motorcycle over and had politely left plenty of room for her. She removed her over shirt and laid it on the workbench, away from the grime. She sat down at the front of her bike and began dismantling it. She barely paused when she heard the door open and looked up to see Logan there. "Couldn’t wait to check up on me, huh?"



"Actually," he grunted, "Jean thought I should come help Scott because I’ve been using his bike for the last few months."



"By all means, Scott invited with a shrug, inwardly looking forward to the possible zingers that might come from Max. Logan knelt down to see what Scott had accomplished so far, but Max diverted both men’s attention. She was working so quickly that her hands almost seemed to blur. Within a short period of time, she was cleaning the carburetor. Scott and Logan exchanged mystified glances.



"So, what, are you some kind of professional mechanic too?" Logan demanded again, as he had earlier.



"What’s the point of having something if you can’t take care of it?" Max countered. She checked the rest of the machine over and, concluding that there didn’t seem to be anything else wrong, began to put it back together. Scott hid a smile and watched Logan’s facial play. He recognized the interest there, tinged with a little animosity. ‘He’s definitely interested.’ He thought with relief. He didn’t like that Logan had developed a crush on Jean nearly from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. He decided to test his theory.



"Hey Max," Scott caught her attention. "I know you haven’t had a chance to explore much. I know this great little club over in New York. Maybe you’d like to go sometime with Jean and I?" He watched her think it over, completely ignoring Logan.



"That could be fun," Max shrugged. "I assume it’s casual?" Scott nodded. "Then sure, as long as Jean doesn’t mind having a tagalong."



"No," Scott assured her. "It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to go out. And I’m sure you could find someone around here that’d come, so you don’t feel like a fifth wheel. It’ll do us all some good."



"Well, if you look at it like that," Logan drawled, "then maybe I could tagalong too."



"Sure," Scott smiled magnanimously. Logan had never taken up Jean’s offer to join them at the blues club before. So it wasn’t his girlfriend drawing him there this time. He was glad to see his theory pan out. Max however, busied herself putting her machine together, then moved to help the guys. She cleaned parts while they dismantled others. Surprisingly, they all worked well together. After Scott’s motorcycle was together, he offered to let Max test drive it as a way of thanking her for her help. Her eyes lit up and she threw her leg over the seat.



"If you want to experiment with the turbo boost, just wait until you get to a long stretch of isolated road," Scott advised, pointing at the keypad. "Push in the silver button. To disengage the system, press it again. Be careful though, because it really adds speed." With a wicked grin, she started the machine and rode carefully down to the gate. She waited until it was open, then took off with a roar.



"I hope you realize that she’s probably going to wreck the damn thing," Logan scoffed. Scott turned to look at him. "Its too much power for a skinny brat. If she kills herself, it’s on your head."



"Somehow," Scott grinned, "I think she’ll manage just fine." He was proven right, when half an hour later, Max returned. They could both see the ecstasy written on her face.



"I don’t know if I can ever return to my baby now," she mourned, half-serious.



"If you like,’ Scott offered, "we can rev yours up like mine. It’s not really hard to someone of your expertise. I can show you how."



"That would be wonderful," Max accepted. She glanced at the clock on the wall, raising her eyebrows when she saw the time. "It’s getting late." Scott agreed and after putting away the tools, they decided to turn in.



Logan watched Max as she walked down the hallway, towards the stairs. The hackles on his neck seemed to vibrate. He tried to shake off the feeling, trying to convince himself that she was up to something. He turned into the lounge area as everyone else went to bed. He made a slight pretense of choosing some reading material, then sat down to wait and see if he was correct. Not an hour later, he wasn’t surprised to see Max slink back down the stairs. His body tightened as he took in her form fitting black cat suit. She had a small haversack tossed over one shoulder. She made her way back down to the garage. He followed as carefully as he could. With forethought, she had opened the garage door and was wheeling her bike down the driveway. Logan waited to see which way she turned and then hopped on to Scott’s bike to follow. He had a sneaking suspicion about where she was heading.

Chapter Eight