Fiction TGoM- Chapter Twenty-four

Title: The Glory Of Manticore

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Dark Angel or to X-men. They belong respectively to Cameron/ Eglee and to Marvel Comics. No infringement is intended and this fiction is for private enjoyment only.

Rating: up to NC-17

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: action/ Romance

Pairing: Max/ Logan

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.

Spoilers/ Time line: Post the first movie, for X-men. First season for DA, starting off from Episode “Blah Blah Woof Woof”

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

Chapter Twenty-four

“So you and Logan seemed pretty cozy this morning,” Jean noted as she and Max entered the elevator. Max threw a sidelong glance at the woman, recognizing immediately the dig for information. There were all of the possibilities about what they thought might have been going on. The obvious glaring one, right there before them, but Max figured that they could think what they liked. It wasn't really any of their business what she and Logan were doing in their free, private time. But at the same time, there was something teasing in Jean's tone that was supporting those things precisely.

“Yeah,” she finally decided on. “Things get that way when a guy acts like a complete ass, his words not mine, the night before and then arranges for breakfast and flowers as an apology, first thing in the morning.”

“I saw that,” Jean noted as the elevator began its descent. “They were pretty.”

“And stolen,” Max giggled. “At least I think they were. He didn't say. Just that he found them when he went for a run.”

“Logan runs?” Jean was slightly startled at that new tidbit being dropped on her. Max shrugged. She hadn't known that either, but then, she also hadn't known Logan as long as the other woman. Not like she had a lifetime friendship with the guy either though.

“He did this morning, according to him,” she offered. “I dunno. Some people like to think while they work out. Me, I prefer hanging with my friend Cindy. She drops wit and wisdom with equal fervor whether you want it or not.” The smile she gave softened any hint of criticism that might be construed from that statement.

“Do you miss her?” Jean asked plaintively and Max nodded, though she wasn't by any means choked up about it. With what Zack had told her the evening before, that situation was fairly resolved and there would not be much need to cut her best friend from her life. She'd have a little explaining to do, especially given how she felt about things right now. She wondered idly as she followed Jean out to the lobby if maybe Logan was serious about getting a truck and doing some more road tripping. That actually sounded interesting. And she wondered again if he was just telling her about his thoughts and potential plans or if he was hinting that he'd welcome company. Maybe if that was what it was, she could suggest that they amble themselves along to the west coast. She was seeing his life. Maybe at some point, he'd like to see hers.

“Where'd you go?” Jean asked, waving her hand in front of Max's face. Max grinned and ducked her chin for a moment.

“Nowhere, really,” she offered. “Just thinking about things for down the road.”

“Uh huh,” Jean drawled. She continued to regard the other woman for a few minutes and then led them to a set of chintz upholstered seats across from the reception desk and sank down into one. Max followed suit, though they both knew that they wouldn't be long there. “So,” Jean continued, “Scott and I were discussing it this morning and instead of wasting money on cabs, we figured that we'd go ahead and use the car. Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever is fine,” Max replied, just as happy to drop the subject of her friends and former life for the moment. “I assume we'll take a cab tonight though?”

“Of course,” Jean grinned. “Actually, I was pretty happy when I called to get us a table.”

“Oh?” Max asked with polite interest and Jean was almost vibrating.

“An old friend of Scott and mine is going to be performing tonight,” Jean announced. Max's eyebrows went up at that announcement, but otherwise, found nothing personally for her to get excited about. “We had thought that she was going on hiatus, but this is actually one of her last performances.”

“Oh, well that's cool,” Max smiled in reaction to Jean's enthusiasm rather than anything else. “How did you meet her?”

“We went to school together,” Jean explained and then laughed at Max's expression. “No, not there. University.”

“Oh, okay,” Max sighed. And then rolled her eyes. “Not that the other would be a problem for me.”

“I know,” Jean acknowledged. It was something that had impressed her. That Max had had very little problem dealing with the mutants at the school. Both she and the professor had noted that Max had some tension when initially confronted by a mutant that didn't conform to human looks, but it was quickly lost as she relaxed around the child or teen in question. It was something that they had seen in others of the non-mutant populace and she actually recovered herself much more quickly than others had. Some of those others, even a lot of the families hadn't bothered to try and get past the outer facade at all. Max had. And the tension had never returned, or plagued her at other times. So they believed that Max truly had little to no problem with mutants.

One of the few regular humans they had found like that. But then, Jean reminded herself, she couldn't judge all non mutants by what she had endured when her powers had first started emerging. Her parents, scared of her and thinking that she was ill. People in her neighborhood whispering about her and crossing the street to avoid walking by her. Even as a teen and adult, she'd had to feel and deal. She knew without a doubt that things for mutant human relations would not change drastically in her lifetime, no matter the optimism of Charles or others. But that certainly didn't mean that she wouldn't work and try on this path that she was committed to. It just occurred to her, that having someone like Max on their side was better for them in the long run.

The elevator banks dinged an arrival chime that was heard, quiet as it was, across the lobby and both women turned their attention to that area. Scott and then Logan emerged from the elevator. Scott was still frowning as he had been earlier, and Jean felt the worry transmuting through the bond that they shared. But he shook his head minutely at her and she knew he would talk to her about it later.

Logan on the other hand, looked amused, eager and completely at ease. All three things were not all that familiar to Jean when it came to that specific man. The only amusement she had seen from him was when he watched her or Scott squirming under the probing double talk he'd engaged them in, those early days of knowing him. She chanced a glance at the last of their foursome and found that Max, was just as relaxed and bemused looking as her counterpart in this trip was. She smiled to herself and decided that whatever Scott concerns were, they would be dealt with in ample time.

*****

“I wonder what's going on,” Scott murmured as he finally found a parking spot on the street, several blocks down from the Museum of Modern Art. There had been quite the crowd and all four had been mystified at the number of people.

“I suppose we'll find out,” Jean murmured as she undid her seatbelt. Logan was already out of the car and offering a hand to Max, who was silent as she took it. But then she turned with a half smile to regard the other couple.

“Probably the first day or so of a new exhibit,” she surmised. “Or it's one of the museums free admission days.”

“Could be,” Jean agreed with a shrug. She turned back to her boyfriend. “We'll have to remember to check on stuff like that.” Scott gave a nod and moved around the front end of the car after engaging the automatic locks and depositing his keys in his pocket. The foursome moved at a brisk pace down the street and joined the throng before the museum. Once they were close enough, they could see the sign, announcing as Max had predicted, a new exhibit.

“Oh my goodness,” Jean gasped. “I can't believe we didn't hear anything about this!”

“Uh, it's not the sort of thing I'd advertise,” Max grimaced as she glanced around the crowd.

“True,” Scott agreed as he shared her long looks at the people around them, feeling uncomfortable with the level of enthusiasm, as well as a small group of people off to the side holding signs of protest.

“Well, either we go in or we leave,” Logan offered, wishing right about then that he had a cigar. “Up to you,” he shrugged, addressing the group as a whole, but looking to Max.

She shrugged in response. “I'd kind of like to see what the fuss is about,” she decided and Scott and Jean slowly responded similarly. “After all, I haven't had much chance to see this stuff. Once in a lifetime opportunity, right?” she smiled at Jean and the redhead nodded, rubbing just once at the temple on the opposite side of where Scott was standing. Max didn't miss it though and as Logan and Scott took up the lead before them, being the larger of the group they were more easily able to work through the crowd. Especially as people unconsciously gave in to their desire to edge away from the dangerous vibes that Logan seemed to give off naturally.

“Mmm,” Jean murmured as she picked up one of the brochures offered and showed it to Scott. “I'm not sure it would be wise to bring some of the students to this exhibit.”

Scott studied the colorful paper depicting the artworks on loan from the Hermitage in Russia. “I think I know who you mean,” he nodded. There was silent communication between them for a moment.

Max noting this, paused for a moment. “Do you really think that the issue of these paintings having been recovered from the Nazis will affect students as young as yours?” she asked, picking up her own “Hidden Treasures Revealed and Shared” pamphlet. Logan, as soon as she asked that question, recognized what the problem was and why there was such excitement over the exhibit that day.

“You're right,” he grunted as he glanced around the inner lobby as tour guides were organizing the smaller groupings for the staggered tours. “This would be a security nightmare.”

There was agreement, seeing all the guards lined around the building. They joined in with one of the guided tours that was organized and followed along as the group headed directly towards the featured exhibit. In all, there were twelve paintings on loan from the Russian Museum, all with their own individual state of the art security as well as posted guards at regular heavily intervals.

It was when they came to the celebrated Place de la Concorde by Degas, that Logan started paying closer attention. As the tour guide droned on, going on about what the painting represented and where it had been found and how the Hermitage still did not know the full provenance of the piece, or at least had not made any information or suspicions they had available to the public. But Logan was not listening. He already knew this and the daunting question of how and why he knew this was instantly preying on his mind.

He moved along by rote with the rest of the group, but paused at the edge of the painting, as close as he was able to go and stared up at it.

“Logan?” Max's voice broke into his reverie, quietly concerned. She had been concerned about Jean as well, knowing the problems that the woman had seemed to be having with large crowds. It was exacerbated by the flux of emotions around her and Max was on the verge of suggesting they leave. After all, looking at a painting and looking at a picture of the painting through other sources was about the same for her. But then Logan's sudden disquiet caught her attention. “Everything okay?”

Logan broke off his stare with the portrait of Vicomte Lepic and the others to turn his head. He shook it slightly. “Deja vu,” he muttered, knowing that it wasn't a very good explanation. But he couldn't explain it. He knew, absolutely knew, that he had done this before. Stood before this painting, staring up at it, absorbed by the lone stranger in the left of the painting. The only difference he could feel was the play of lights over the canvas to highlight the special celebration of the piece finally being allowed on American soil. It was an unprecedented move from the Hermitage and MoMA was playing it up for all they were worth. “Never mind,” he muttered and tried to muster a grin for her. But it seemed, she wasn't fooled.

“We don't have to stay,” she offered as they turned to catch up with the rest of their group.

“Don't worry about me,” Logan shrugged gallantly. “It was just... a moment.” He tried to dismiss said moment and it seemed as if Max would allow it. But then she touched on his bicep lightly, gesturing with a dip of her chin to the couple ahead of them.

“It's not just you,” she spoke lowly, but he heard her quite clearly. “It's Jean too. I think the crowd might be too much for her.”

Instead of answering, Logan took a moment to assess Jean, as he realized that he hadn't done that, at all, lately. She was there and he supposed that he had been seeing what he wanted to see. But now, she was quiet, her smile tight whenever Scott spoke to her. She was also paler than usual, having to stop herself short from flinching when there was loud laughter or exclamations. “I think you're right. You sure? You and Scott could go on...” he trailed off, not too thrilled with his own suggestion, but it was the right one to make.

Especially with that smile and little chuckle that she gave. She glanced around at the framed masterpieces on display and the crowds moving about in little groups. There was a small sigh, but he couldn't sense any regret from her. “I figured that it wouldn't hurt anything to come, take a look, but,” she paused and shrugged, “not exactly my cup of tea. I'll survive leaving.”

“All right darlin',” Logan smiled back at her with a little relief. To be honest, with the crowds, concern that was no more than what a normal friend would feel for Jean and this revelation, if only to himself that there was possibly yet another memory plaguing his mind, hovering just out of reach, he was more than ready to leave as well. Of course, Scott and Jean might protest, but Jean's mental well being was more important than getting their money's worth out of the admission fee.

As it turned out, Scott had taken note of Jean's mild discomfort right from the get go and admitted that he had been about to bring up their stepping out of the tour altogether. He had no problem with Logan and Max continuing the tour, but upon hearing that they were ready to go as well, decided that they'd had enough. Skirting around the milling groups was easy enough since no one was hampering their way to the exit. As long as they didn't move too close to the exhibits people were trying to view they were fine.

Once they were back out on the streets, Jean inhaled deeply and glanced wistfully back at the museum. “And that insanity will be going on for the next month,” she murmured with a shake of her head.

“Mmm,” Max nodded. “Concern over ethnic prejudices and slights aside, I don't think this will get any better. I doubt the students would enjoy it that much.”

“I agree,” Scott sighed. “Not many of the students are very enthusiastic art aficionados.”

“So it's an acquired taste,” Logan agreed as the group very carefully avoided the peacefully protesting faction that were being monitored by a small group of police officers. Logan noted how Max ducked her head, avoiding eye contact until they were about halfway down the block when suddenly she stopped short.

“Oh shoot!” she exclaimed and the other three turned to look back at her. She was quickly moving her hands through her pockets, concerned.

“Problem?” Scott asked first, several feet away from her, holding Jean's hand as the woman leaned slightly against him. Max chewed on her lower lip for a moment and then her shoulders sagged a little.

“I grabbed my room key, didn't I?” she asked of Jean. The redhead furrowed her brows for a moment as she recalled earlier. But then she nodded.

“You made sure that you had it along with your cash and your keys,” Jean confirmed.

“Well it's missing now,” Max sighed, holding up her empty hands. They all knew that it was never a smart idea to be flashing any amount of cash around. “And I had it at the cafe. It must have slipped out of my pocket in the museum.”

“The hotel will provide you with a new one,” Scott informed her quietly and Max nodded.

“But for a fee,” she agreed and then rolled her eyes. “I'll run back in and see if someone found it. They've got a lost and found, I'm sure.”

“Well here, take this,” Scott grinned as he dug into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a receipt. “So you don't get charged again.”

Max took it with a little laugh. “I won't be going all in, but yeah, just in case. Be right back, or should I just meet you at the car?”

“I can wait,” Logan offered, eying Jean and Scott for a moment. Something like understanding passed between them and Scott gestured down the street.

“Jean and I will get the car,” he decided. The group separated and Logan moved out of the way for any other pedestrian as he watched Max move swiftly back to the museum.

It wasn't a perfect set up, but since she knew that Zack was being his typical, usual, paranoid self, it was the best excuse she had come up with. There was no way in hell that she was going to drop her cash or the keys to her baby where any old jerk could pick them up. As Scott had said, the hotel could provide another key card and she wasn't concerned about someone getting into her hotel room.

After she shouldered her way through the crowd that was still milling at the door, waiting for their turn to get in, she was met by the security guards at the entry. She smiled widely and with wide eyed innocence, showed the guard the receipt Scott had provided and a quick explanation that she had lost her hotel key, the security guard had given her a polite, disinterested smile and opened the door for her.

She moved into the lobby and veered off towards the gift shop, whee she knew her brother would be waiting. And as she had thought, he was standing before the book selection, perusing the vast amount of volumes dedicated to different artists, well known and local that the MoMA had featured over the years.

“Hey Zack” she greeted easily as she came to a stop next to him. He held up her card between the first two fingers of his right hand.

“Drop something?” he teased.

“Thanks,” she murmured, as she took it from him and slipped it back into her pocket. “News?”

“My guy, Flea is set to meet tonight,” he murmured, still not turning to look at her full on. Max wanted to snort at his precautions. No one around here was going to take notice of their conversation. “What are your plans?”

“All four of us are going to a blues club,” Max answered with a sigh. Some days she wished it didn't have to be like this. But, you had to live the hand you were dealt. Or make the changes you could. But she had already tried butting heads with Zack. It wasn't worth it.

“Address?” he demanded in clipped tones that had Max rolling her eyes. But she provided it nonetheless. Sometimes being what she was sucked, but at other times... Being able to pull of these little child's play moments was exactly that and for the most part, wouldn't amuse. But just occasionally they did. Not like it had been hard. A simple question or two to Jean about where the club was and cover charges and she was able to relate it all to her brother.

“We'll meet you out back at midnight,” Zack finally decided as he reached to pull one of the books off the shelves. He actually looked interested in it, which surprised Max. Yes, they had talked a few times, but she had the sense, suddenly, that she really didn't know him.

“Or you could come along,” she offered on the spur of the moment. It was something that had fomented in the back of her mind, but had Zack scoffing immediately.

“You know why I can't,” he shook his head.

“Why you won't,” she countered immediately, softly, but still the hurt colored her tone. It wasn't a given, but a choice he was making. And yes she understood the possible security ramifications of their being seen together too often or at too long of a time. But in her mind, they were negligible. Not so for the quintessential big brother though.

“Max, we've been over this already,” he warned.

“Yeah,” she snarked immediately. “Because the world's gonna end if Zack let's his hair down for two seconds and actually meets some of his sister's-!” she was about to say friends, but thought better of it. After all the arguments, she knew how stubborn Zack was. “Acquaintances,” she finished when she noted his eyes sliding towards her suspiciously. “You know what? Never mind. I know the score. I'll see you tonight. Am I bringing the goods?”

“Bring something so Flea knows what you deal in,” Zack instructed, settling the book he'd glanced over the synopsis of, back on the shelf and turning away. “Midnight Max.”

“Yeah, I got it,” she sighed and watched with sad eyes as Zack strolled out of her life for yet another time. It didn't matter that they had plans to meet later. It seemed that it was destiny that he was forever leaving her. And it didn't sit well with her. Perhaps that was why she had finally, those few years ago, given into the urge to stop, to stay, to find something a little more permanent. It obviously had not been without it's difficulties, but if pressed to say, Max was finding that for the most part, they were worth it.

Taking a moment to shake the disconcerting melancholia that surrounded her spirit, Max chose the book the Zack had been looking at. How strange, she noted. It was a book on Degas. Hadn't that been the painting that had given Logan his deja vu moment? On impulse she carried the book to the cashier who was polite and enthused over the painting that was by Degas, on loan from the Hermitage, asking Max if she'd seen it yet. Max replied that she had and pulled the proper amount of cash from her pocket to pay for it. She waited for her change and then for the girl to produce a paper bag for the coffee table sized book.

Feeling slightly better, Max returned the girls farewell and headed out of the book shop. Back to the lobby and then out to the crowd that had thinned even more as people were getting into the building for their turn at a viewing. Max jogged down the steps, easily avoiding those coming up and when she reached the last step, she glanced up and saw that Logan was still waiting right where she had left him.

“So that's what took so long, huh?” he grinned, gesturing at the bag when she was close enough. Max glanced down and then nodded.

“Little impulse buy,” she agreed. “And I got my card back from the lost and found. So it's all good.” Logan nodded and Max momentarily preoccupied with switching the bag to her other hand so that it wouldn't be bumping Logan's leg as they walked to the car, completely missed how his nostrils flared, his eyes widened and how Logan went from dangerous to deadly between one breath and the next.

Chapter Twenty-five