Body Heat




Chapter Seven

Underneath It All

Alec found the gun he was staring at a hell of a lot more effective wake-up call than any alarm clock ever could be.   The unrelenting black steel was successfully making him bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.  Of course, the look was nothing compared to the feeling of the object as it was quickly and forcefully slammed into his cheekbone.

"Screw the pleasantries, 494, and tell me where your girlfriend's at," White spat, bringing the gun back to Alec's eye level.  Alec lifted a hand to his face and absentmindedly rubbed the rapidly swelling spot where the gun had smacked him.  He felt the thickness of his blood against his fingertips, and his eyes widened slightly in dangerous anger, but he quickly schooled his face back into a mask of bored amusement.  

"She's not my girlfriend," he replied and rolled his eyes, not bothering to offer the agent any more information.  Once again, the butt of the gun smashed down at him, this time splitting Alec's lip.

White's impatience grew and his finger tightened on the trigger.  "Quit screwing around and tell me where she's at.  I know she was here with you, and I know you know her whereabouts." 

"Maybe I do."

"Then I suggest you tell me where she's at.  If you do, I might just let you live." 

Alec raised a blond eyebrow and curled his lip at that.  "Yeah, you just might.  Come on, Special Agent White,' Alec began sarcastically.  "You know as well as I do that once you find out where Max is, I'm going to be eating that pistol."  White leaned toward him and smiled menacingly. 

"You may be transgenic filth, but you're not stupid – and you're right, you're dead either way.  However, it's up to you whether that's slow and painful or quick and easy."

"You know, I'm rapidly concluding you're not a morning person," Alec quipped, looking past the gun into White's eyes.

"Oh, I don't know about that, 494.  This is exactly how I like to start my day," White replied.  He pressed the gun threateningly against Alec's forehead.  "Now, where is that girlfriend of yours, 494?  I want a word with her."

"Look, I don't know.  I woke up and she wasn't here."

White cocked his gun.  "I don't believe you."

Alec smirked.  "Why am I not surprised?" 

Suddenly, White's face contorted in surprise as he bent over violently.  The gun fell from the agent's hands as he grabbed his groin in reflex.  Alec's reflexes kicked in and he leapt off the bed, catching the weapon before it hit the ground.  Max stood behind the agent, bending over and grinning into his ear.  "Looking for me, Ames?" she asked innocently.

"Fuck you," White ground out. 

Max kicked him again.  The blows weren't hurting him, but they were keeping him off balance. "No.  I believe its 'fuck *you*', Ames.  Now, where's Joshua?" 

"Wouldn't you like to know?"  White spat.  Alec slammed the gun down on his cheek. Payback felt good.

 "Oops, I'm sorry," Alec said innocently.  "The gun slipped."

 "Go to hell, 494."

The retort on Ames lips was cut off by the sound of glass breaking from the front of the house.   Max caught Alec's eyes.

"Looks like re-enforcements are here," Max said.

"Thank you, O Mistress of the Obvious," Alec sighed, rolling his eyes and cocking the gun.  His finger itched on the trigger.

"No!" Max cried.  "We need him alive if we're going to find Joshua."  She directed her attention back to White.  "This isn't over, Ames." 

"Next time, 452, I'll make sure you won't liv-" Alec slammed the butt of the gun down onto the agent's forehead, knocking the man unconscious. Off Max's look, he lifted a shoulder.

 "It's way too early for Clichéd Villain Comebacks.  Hell, I was about to knock you out with that 'This isn't over yet' shit.  I can't deal before my first cup of coffee."

Another noise, closer this time.  Max once again sent a swift kick into Ames' groin, taking out her frustration on him.  Alec inhaled sharply and reached for himself in sympathy.

"Max, for the love of all that is holy and male, can you please hit him somewhere else?  My boys are hiding in my throat just watching." 

Max snickered.  "Couldn't tell by looking at them; those boxers definitely aren't meeting mission specifications." 

"I'll show you something that meets 'mission specifications'," he muttered.

"Will you shut up?" she whispered, edging toward the bedroom door.  "Yap, yap, yap.  That's all you do.  Drives me up the wall."  She peeked out the door.  Several men dressed in black and carrying large, dangerous-looking guns stood in the hallway.  "Great," she whispered under her breath.  "There's about ten of them out there," she whispered, turning back to him.  "What are you doing?" she questioned.

"I'm looking for my pants, Sherlock.  What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?"

"Hurry it up!  They're gonna be in here any second." 

"You just want to keep me naked.  See what you missed last night," he quipped as he reached for his clothes, partially hidden under the bed.  He looked up to see Max's eyes widen and her fists clenching at her side.  He swallowed.  "Oh, all right," he said, tossing her the gun. "Hold this a minute."  He shrugged into his jeans, then walked to the window. 

Max watched him as he crossed the room.  Though his movements were lax, his eyes were alert, focused over and behind her.  To another X-5, it was obvious he was keenly aware of their precarious situation and was ready for battle.  Underneath the smart ass veneer was a well-trained soldier.  Manticore had done a superb job, physically and mentally.

Wrapping his arm in his shirt, he put his fist through the window.  It gave with a muted crash.  A burst of wind immediately rushed into the room, giving him goosebumps in all the wrong places. 

Max owed him.  She *so* owed him.

He knocked the remaining glass from the window and pulled himself up and out.  He reached around, offering Max his hand.  She ignored it and yanked herself through unassisted, which was a mistake.  Max fell forward in another moment of gracelessness, moments frustratingly neither few nor far between when she was with Alec.  His arms shot out, fingers wrapping around her biceps.  Her hands instinctively flew to his chest for balance.  A chest that was hot, hard and oh-so-bare beneath her fingertips.  She swallowed thickly and glanced up.  His hair, which was already mussed from sleep, ruffled in the light breeze of the morning.  Stubble covered his jaw, giving him a rugged, sexy look.  Her body temperature skyrocketed.

Damn her traitorous libido.

*****IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT******  There is more to chapter 7, but I'm cutting it here.  If you want to read the rest – or any of my upcoming stories, please visit Nuns With Pens: .  I will NOT be posting anything further on any of my stories on  I do not agree with their censorship or needless banding of individuals.   NWP will be the exclusive place to find them.  I'm not the only author who will no longer be contributing, and we all invite you to stop by.