The usual holds true of this little story as well: I'm only playing here, no infringement intended.

A/N: What can I say: I have absolutely NO idea what I'll come up with this time... Yeah, like I usually do… So let's just wait and see…

The wet slap-slap of his feet on the ground.

He doesn't bother getting her down into the sewers. Nobody's attempting to assault them openly now, anyways. Something scares them off, holds them at a distance.

Some dare a short glance, and, awed, stare on in silence.

A smile.

His naked body pressed into hers, hard. Heat and bare skin and the light breeze of his breath in her hair, on her face, his lips buried against the nape of her neck, his hands all over her.

And her hands?

All over him, tracing inch after inch, feeling herself, feeling him.

Afterward, she felt exhilarated and also paralyzed by utter horror at her own betrayal.

"Oh God. Logan." Her voice a mere whisper, the shock apparent.

"Ouch, Max, that hurt. Please tell me you did not just mistake me for the Log," Alec said, mock hurt written on his face like a text wanting to be read by someone able to perceive the tiny bit of real pain hidden in the space between the lines. But he smiled at her, a confident, self-assured expression. So proud. So strong.

If only…

Right now, Max's own features were distorted by some feeble remainder of her usual self-confidence, her no-shit-attitude.

"Please, Alec," she begged, immediately hating the needy tone that crept into her voice. "We can't tell anyone… – him. This… it'll devastate him, it –"

His face erupted into an even wider smile, one of the widest she had seen in a long time, and although she fought it – and hard – she couldn't help but wallow in the warmth of it.

"What? You told the Log we two got it going, but when we're actually starting to live up to everyone's expectations you wanna lie to him about that, too?" he asks, incredulously, still reassembling his clothes. "Yeah, like that would sound at all convincing… okay, maybe the guy really thinks all your relationships are as…" he let his words trail off and stepped away from her, seemingly playfully, but she wondered whether her plea might have hit a nerve. Something about the whole thing confused her.

Though why it would she didn't know.

She wasn't even mad at the things he didn't say.

"It's just…" she started, but immediately fell silent. Yeah, what? Logan already thought she and Alec were an issue, so why did she feel like she was betraying him all over again? After all, she had wanted it this way, had wanted this chance for him to get over her and start a new life, without feeling bound to her, without endangering his fragile life daily just by being close to her, by seeking her company.

What had happened now wouldn't hurt him any more than her harsh, never verbalized non-denial of a while ago which had started all this.

To Logan this was all old business. He had moved on long ago.

And so had she. With Alec.

It was no crime; what they had done only a few minutes ago. Heat of the moment.

No. Not that. It had been more than that. It was more. She knew it, and so did Alec.

She couldn't make him lie for her again. Couldn't make him shut up about it just because.

Yeah, just because of what exactly, anyways?

Old stuff.

What the hell.

She wanted him, and he wanted her.

And Logan…

It was only she didn't really wanna tell him.

Maybe she didn't have to? Could let it slide? Surely he suspected as much already? After all, he thought she and Alec were having a full-fledged, big style, real thing relationship.

The whole love-and-passion, no-virus-and-therefore-real-hot-sex, – but please no vivid details! – X5-relationship-dealio, right?


Max sighed as Alec leaned into her, breathing into her hair again, making her want more instantly, right when he pulled away.

"Come on, that mysterious Eyes Only informant-dude's waiting for me. And I'm pretty sure you're needed elsewhere, too, right?"

She rolled her eyes. Elsewhere… He could say that again.

"Elsewhere" meant Logan's place. He had said something about a new lead on the Conclave's whereabouts. White's name prominent, of course, as was to be expected.

Her nemesis.

She wondered who would follow after that man. If ever she'd manage to off that Conclave-bitch White in the first place, that was…

There'd always be a Lydecker, Renfro, White, or the likes of them breathing down her neck. Only their names changed, and maybe the people they were working for.

With the last remnants of her feelings for Logan having softened down to the love for a friend something else had shrunken along the way.

Her dream of one day being nothing more than a normal girl, with a normal little life, it had fled out of her grasp and been replaced by the growing shadow of a lingering hope for something else.

To not be alone.

This one refused to die, in spite of all the people who were gone already, in spite of all those things that made her head swim and threatened to overwhelm her if she did as much as allow herself to think about them…

A sad smile flitted across her face for one lost moment.

Max sighed silently, her eyes on Alec, tracing his way along with him, before she followed him out of the room, reluctantly finding her own way.

Her head secured against his chest, her mind drifting off, she feels the rest of warmth radiating off of his bare chest, and she manages one half lucid thought.

Why hasn't he bothered with a shirt in weather like this? It's Seattle after all, and it's the middle of winter. It does get cold here from time to time.

Like now.

He'll catch his death out here…

Her mind numbs, giving way to the continuous throbbing sensation echoing on inside her skull.

Silver light enters her vision and she stares up into his face, sees everything; his eyes, the shadows underneath, his dark lashes, his lips, dry and colorless, every tiny line; his handsome frowning face. She sees it all, everything, and a flicker of... what?

Her eyes widen as the light enhances her senses one last time before her mind shuts down completely, feeling, hearing, knowing nothing…

The wetness underneath his feet leaves a trail of red on dark cold asphalt as he straightens up once more. Max's lifeless form limp in his tired arms, he pushes himself on, drawing from the last strength he finds within his exhausted limbs.

His last reserve.

It has to suffice, and if he should die running to get Max to someone who can help her, then so be it.

He will.

So, this is a start at least, huh? We'll see about the rest…