Note: Yeah yeah, I got it, me bad for not updating for a long time and for having the NERVE to actually post up another story. I had my reasons (not good ones, but there my reasons and I love 'em). Here it is in a nutshell: Miss Rach L. got a little bit stubborn with something. Well, being the irrational nutcase that I am, I screamed, shouted, and stalked her to no end (which I'm still trying to make up for) resulting in a little 'threat'. I said that I wouldn't post another part up until she did so first. Of course, Rachel, being quite the thinker (and a stubborn gal), rose to the challenge, figuring that I was all talk and no bite, and stood firm, even having the nerve to pester *me* (I admit, there was some name calling, too). Well, them were fighting words. So naturally, I met her pitiful attack and kept my end of the deal. I fully intended to carry on with the whole thing and even did so for a while until she got fed up with my childish antics and properly chastised me (severely, I might add). I believe her exact words were "Just put up your story, for cryin' out loud!" Well, I've seen the errors of my ways, I'm sorry Rach, Ana sucks and Rachel rules, satisfied? It's written here, for the whole world to see.

Thanks: To my super beta readers for doing an excellent job. Saz...Frankie babe...*thumbs up*
 

*****

Logan dubiously eyed the array of various files and paperwork spread out on the conference room floor. The table was quickly discarded when they found out that it couldn't possibly hold all the paperwork they had. Instead, they laid out everything on the carpeted floor. He and Max had been at it for hours, studying and perfecting their plans. Amazingly, once they started working, it was all business. True, there were moments here and there where they were on the cusp of another round of bickering, but ultimately, they maintained their professionalism.

Logan stretched his arms out, yawning silently. The sun had disappeared from the horizon a long time ago, and he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. His back ached and he was tired of tiptoeing around her, cautiously making sure that he didn't offend her in some way and start another round of fighting. Max looked a little worse for wear too, sprawled out on the ground with her hair tied back, and agitatedly chewing on a pencil. She concentrated hard on the text on front of her. She was no slouch when it came to hard work; she pulled her weight and some of Logan's too. The sight of her furrowed brow and tight-lipped frown was such a contrast from what she looked like the night Logan had first met her. Her mouth was busy gnawing on the pencil when she grunted and muttered some incoherent words in his direction.

"What?" His head snapped up with alertness, he was afraid that she might be mad at him for almost dozing off.

"I *said* 'where is that damn eraser?'" Her eyes never left her text as she pawed at the sheets in front of her.

Logan quickly searched all around, finding what he was looking for by his leg. "Here it is." He picked up a small piece of pink rubber and threw it at her.

She easily caught it and grunted in a reply that could've been mistaken for a thank you. Vigorously rubbing an offending spot, she spoke quickly in a no nonsense tone. "There might be some information that we can squeeze out of Korsakov, although that's a stretch, but still in the realm of possibility. We have various other leads we can pursue. The Peterman Charity is one, but I'm not sure if I can take another party. Whatever lead we can get should put us more in the right direction. Your boss wants us to check out what Richart knows. Either way, we're headed towards France. What do you think?"

Logan's mind had been elsewhere, concentrating mostly on how much his shoulders hurt and how his butt was getting numb from sitting on the ground for too long. When he realized that her last statement was directed to him, he turned his eyes to her and absent-mindedly replied. "You're consulting me? Gee, what did I do to deserve this?"

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say because her eyes immediately hardened and she blankly stared back at him. "What do you think?" she repeated.

"Uh, fine with me, whatever you decide is good."

She narrowed her eyes slightly and intensely stared at him. "You sure about that?" she said hotly.

Unaffected her glare, he nonchalantly responded with a simple," Yes."

"Good." Her eyes cast downwards and she focused her attention back on the file in front of her.

"You always this chatty?"

She ignored him.

Logan frowned, he was tired and he was bored. She seemed to have taken over and he didn't mind one bit. It was monotonous work and he was happy that someone was doing it. However, he wasn't going to let her do *everything*, all he needed was a peaceful night's rest and he would be ready to tackle it on. Logan tried to hint it to her. "I *really* need to get some sleep, didn't get any at all last night."

"I bet." She sneered at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He saw his anger flash red.

Max simply looked at him for a brief moment, and then she resumed her reading.

"Hello? I'm talking to you." His expression was one of agitation and exasperation.

"I know you are."

Logan groaned in annoyance and threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, forget it."

Max, who was completely engrossed in her work, paid no attention to him. She quickly scribbled out a few random words and numbers, but then erased them again. Logan watched her with curiosity. He wondered why she was so bent out of shape. Planning was supposed to be the easy part of the assignment. Actually executing the plan would be the hard part. But it seemed to be the other way around for her.

"Want to call it a night?" When he didn't get a reply, he tried again, "Max. Me go home, now."

The only reply he got was a grunt from the woman across from him. He reached up and yanked at his loosened tie, pulling it off and stuffing it in his pocket. "Fine, whatever, I'm leaving," he announced.

That got her attention. "Wha--?" Her head snapped up, finally realizing what he was saying. "You are going to leave me with all this work?" Her face immediately flared up.

"Calm down, I was suggesting that we *both* get some rest. We're leaving tomorrow, after all." As she started to cool down a bit, he continued, "If you don't have a place to stay--"

"Don't even think of finishing that sentence, I have a place to stay," she dryly replied.

"Fine." He stated matter-of-factly. He was a little put off that she snapped at him so easily for his nice and *innocent* offer. But he had come to expect those callous reactions from her. He stood up, a bit wobbly from sitting on the ground so long, but he managed. When he noticed that she wasn't doing the same, he questioned, "Aren't you going home?"

"Huh?" Her head bent far back to get a good look at his judgmental face. He stared down at her, and she could tell that he was wondering if something was wrong with her. Wanting to dispel his speculations, she set her mouth in a tight line and sat up. "Oh, yeah. I'm leaving right now." She hurriedly gathered up all the papers and tried unsuccessfully to stuff them into the oversized bag she carried with her.

"Need help?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Max didn't have to look at his face to know that he found the situation funny. She didn't like the idea of him laughing at her. Max gritted her teeth and shot out, "No."

He held up his hands in defense and smiled easily. Logan liked seeing her flustered, it gave him a sense of control that he normally didn't have when she was around. "Just checking."

"Next time, don't check."

Logan perceptibly moved away from her when she threw out that last comment. He was confused, one minute she barely registered that he was even there, the next, she was snapping at him as if he was the vilest thing on earth. "Fine, I won't."

Max gave up trying to gracefully place the files and folders into her bag and opted to shove them in there, instead. She let out a frustrated grumble and zipped up the bag. Noticing that Logan was still standing there, watching her, she scowled. "What are you still standing there for?"

"Address? Phone number? Got to have a way to reach you."

"Oh." She broke eye contact and looked at the ground. He had that uncanny way of catching her off guard, a lot, too much for her liking. Taking out a piece of paper, she hastily scribbled out the necessary information and shoved it into his waiting hand. "There."

Logan took a moment to look at the street address, just to make sure he knew where it was. "Okay, I'll pick you up around ten tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure." Just as he was about to leave, she called out, "Wait, why do you have to pick me up? Can't we just meet at Sea-Tac?" She wasn't sure if she wanted him to see her apartment. The mere thought of him in her home caused her discomfort.

"The ticket is under 'Mr. and Mrs. Alden Compton', it would look awfully suspicious if we came there separately." He acted like he was explaining it to a four year old, which only succeeded in making Max angrier with him.

"Alden Compton?" She made her distaste for the name evident. "Who picked out these names?"

"Beats me." He shrugged. "It'll be fun, *honey*" The comment was laden with tenseness, not in jest, like it was meant to be.

"We're married." She closed her eyes and shook her head. The day was getting better and better. "God, I nearly forgot."

"It's no picnic for me either." Logan looked darkly at her. She *could* make the best out of a bad situation, but instead, she always had to make it more difficult. "It's not real, you've done this before." He was referring to the false identification.

"I know *that*," she snapped. "I just--"

"Haven't worked with me."

"That much is given."

He sighed. "Let's talk about this later. I want to *sleep*."

"Fine."

Logan nodded and proceeded to walk out of the building with her. They stopped at a street corner to hail a cab. "Remember, ten."

Max merely rolled her eyes as a cab parked itself near the curb. Logan, being the gentleman that he was, and despite the fact that the person standing next to him hated his guts, reached for the door to open it for her. Seeing that, she roughly elbowed him out of her way and opened the door herself. She threw her bag in and turned to him, her smug look meeting his aggravated one. "Don't be late." She slammed the door shut and the car started to roll away.

"I won't." Logan stared at her green cab for a while, then concentrated on hailing his own.

Max watched with a slight interest as Logan got smaller and smaller the farther they drove away. He looked a little disconcerted. Good, serves him right trying to act like a 'nice guy'.

"Hey there, miss--?" The cab driver watched her uninterested face from his rearview mirror. "Where to?"

When Max didn't answer, he tried again.

"Yo lady, where ya going?" The cab drivers deep voice bellowed at her.

Catching her attention, the cab driver saw the glower that she gave him. "2215 King Street." She yelled back, then added 'idiot' under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear. She settled back into the uncomfortable vinyl seat and wrapped her coat around her body, tightly. The driver took the hint and didn't try to talk to her. She was left alone to her thoughts, just what she liked. Logan was one egotistical jerk. She didn't know what appeal she ever saw in him before, but what she did know was that he was a liar and the person she had previously known, wasn't the same person at all. Everything that came out of his mouth only made her dislike him more. He was full of himself and didn't care about anything or anyone else. Well, that was fine with her. It didn't matter to her. *He* didn't matter to her, she could care less about him. That bastard.

She hated the fact that he seemed to adjust to their current situation so easily, that it was just so effortless for him to act like nothing had happened between them. "He probably has had a lot of practice," she thought gloomily.

Twenty minutes had gone by and Max continued to mentally list all his faults when the raspy voice called her back to real life. "Hey, lady!"

Her head snapped up and saw that they were parked in front of her building. She looked at the cab driver in his rear view mirror. "What?"

"I *said* it'll be $23.75"

She glowered as she got out of the cab and fished through her pockets for the right amount. "Highway robbery," she muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

"It's late, rates go up."

"I'm sure they do." Balancing her bag under her arm, she handed him the money and slammed the door shut with her foot.

The driver grimaced, as if the unfair punishment inflicted to his vehicle had hurt him personally. "Look lady, I can't have you banging up my car. Watch it, will ya?"

"It's a piece of junk already."

The driver muttered something under his breath and sped away. Max quickly entered the building and made her way to the familiar apartment. It looked the exact same way as when she had left it. Clean, neat, and sterile. It lacked the warm comfortableness to call 'home.' But that's okay, since she didn't visit Seattle too often. It was just nice to have a place somewhere. If she was ever in Gillette, she usually just stayed in the Manticore facility. Usually, she traveled to various places and stayed in hotels though.

She dropped her bag on the couch and walked over to the cell phone she had left on the counter. She picked it up to check her voice mail. Listening, uninterested, to the various messages, she dug in the sparse refrigerator for something edible. Then something familiar croaked into the earpiece. "Max, hey, it's me Zack." She smiled at the familiar voice. "I got this tip from an iffy source, but rumor has it that Stratsky is currently involved in a not-so-discreet business exchange involving the chloride mineral deposit in the northern Alps. Not a big deal, but your boy, Richart has an interest in it. I have no stinkin' idea why they are so keen on 'mineral deposits'. Could be a code name for something. Just giving you a heads up, just in case you overhear something." He paused slightly, as if he was unsure of what to say next. "So...how've you been? Good? Okay, I'll see you later. Bye." He abruptly ended the message and caused Max to let out a small grin. Same old Zack.

She gave up her fruitless search for food and plopped herself on the couch. Dialing the number of a 24 hour take out place, she order her food, hung up the phone, and threw it onto the cushion of the chair opposite her. Kicking off her shoes, she unzipped her bag and prepared for a night of boring paperwork, not exactly her thing.

*****

Logan checked the number on the small crumpled sheet of paper again, making sure he had the right apartment. Tentatively raising his hand to the door, he managed to rap on it soundly, despite his nervousness. He heard a grumble, immediately followed by her footsteps heading his way. The door flung open, revealing a disheveled Max on the other side. "You're early." Her eyes darkened at the sight of him, impeccably dress in his sharp suit, not a hair out of place. She then looked down at her scruffy self, and sighed with disgust.

"Not a morning person?" He smirked at her.

"You have a death wish?"

Upon seeing the shake of his head, she promptly replied, "Then don't talk to me right now."

She backed away from the door to let him in. Logan entered the apartment, only to discover a war zone, papers were flailed everywhere, a few opened food containers sat on her coffee table, and a very cranky Max stood in the middle of it all with her hair sticking out all over the place. "Have you been working *all* night?"

Her fingers tried their best to tame the unruly curls on her head as she shrugged. "I don't need much sleep."

"Should've waited for me."

"Why? So you can be all bossy?"

He stared back at her and threw out a retort, "Coming from you, that doesn't mean a lot."

"Whatever."

"You should've waited for me so I could help you."

She looked at him skeptically. "Help me? No thanks."

"Fine, be that way."

Giving him a scathing look, she started to tidy up, picking up the folders and papers that she had flung onto the floor and stuffing them into her bag. Logan bent down to help her but she glared at him and said, "Leave it."

More than a little miffed at her lack of appreciation, he frowned and situated himself on her couch. He watched as her small figure scampered back and forth, throwing various things into a trash bag and stuffing a few crumpled sheets of text into her bag. After a few minutes he spoke up, finding some twisted amusement at her seething frown, "Are you done, yet?"

She bit back a cruel remark and gestured to her surroundings. "Does it look like I'm done?"

He shook his head. "Look, instead of fighting, why don't we work together? Go take a shower, you need it." It wasn't the nicest thing to say to her, but Logan's head was too clouded with annoyance to make amends. "I'll clean this place up."

"Mind your own damn business."

"This is my business, can't have you making us late."

Max didn't like the way he took the role of boss. But she relented, figuring that he was right, but just a *little* bit. She would just have to put him back in his place, *later*. Irate with anger, she threw the half eaten box of sweet and sour pork at him, the box managed to hit him squarely on the right shoulder, but it was closed. No harm done. She huffed and headed towards the bathroom. "Fine, give me ten minutes."

Not bothered by the flying pork in the slightest, Logan picked up the box that bounce off him and tossed it in the garbage bag. Logan surveyed the disaster area and set to work, picking up her mess and peeling the food containers off of their paperwork. Cleaning wasn't his forte, but he could do it when he had to. After he heard the shower turn on, he figured that it was safe to do a little looking around, find more information about her. She already had an advantage, having a background check on him, so he wanted to even the score. True, he was used to snooping around, it was part of the job description, but doing it with her stuff, made him feel a little guilty. Just a little. He pushed that feeling aside and continued to scan the room. There was nothing very personal about her apartment, no pictures or anything else that said 'home'. The only thing that represented her in this place was the mess that she had made. Turning around, he eyed the phone on the chair. Gingerly picking it up, he held it to his ear and listened to the dial tone. Something caught his attention, and it wasn't the sound of the shower turning off.

That's odd.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her clear, yet infuriated, voice rang out behind him.

He nearly dropped the phone when he turned around to see her scantily clad only in a towel. Her hair hung dripping wet on her shoulders and her expression was volatile. Logan blinked hard and took a sharp intake of air. "What are *you* doing?" The sight of her made him uncomfortable.

"Need my clothes, forgot them in my haste to get the filth off. Now you."

Finding his voice again, he swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "Did you know that your phone is bugged?" He said, this time without his usual amusement. This was obviously a serious matter to him.

"What?" She rushed over to him and snatched the cell out of his hand. She was standing so close that he could smell the floral scent of her shampoo. Struggling to regain his mental and physical equilibrium, he concentrated his attention on his shoes, and not on the practically naked, dripping wet, woman next to him.

He hated himself for getting all bothered by her, *again*. Logan reasoned that the only reason she affected him that way was because of hormones. That's all. He still didn't like her, she was still the same old conniving person, only she was still as gorgeous as ever. "Uh...listen closely, there's a clicking noise in the background."

Sure enough, she held it up to her ears and her eyes widened as she heard what Logan was talking about. "Damn it!"

He watched as she hunted around the apartment for a screwdriver. Finding one in a drawer, Max concentrated on taking apart the offending contraption. Peeling back the cover in a hurry up, she picked out the small square bugging device and a tracer. "Shit!"

"What's wrong?"

She stared at him incredulously. That idiot! "What's *wrong*? They are following our every move, that's what!"

Briefly distracted by the sight of her shaking livid body, he mentally slapped himself. Refocusing his attention on her face, he shrugged. "I know, the bug is a little extreme, but I carry around a tracer often. Let's them know where I am."

"Listen buddy, this ain't just Interpol. This is *Manticore*. We don't do bugs, and we don't get traced. We are expected to do the work right," she growled at him.

Logan inwardly flinched at her angry tone. However, on the outside, he looked as cool as a cucumber. "Why the hell are you yelling at me for? I wasn't the one that planted that."

"Could be one of your people. We both know what dishonest tendencies they have." Her head cocked to the side as she made her meaning crystal clear.

"What are you saying?"

"Figure it out, genius!"

Logan shook his head in disbelief and added, almost like an afterthought, "*My* people? Like who?"

"I don't know! You?"

"Me?" he replied evenly.

"How am I supposed to believe that you didn't just plant this when I was in the shower? What the hell were you doing listening to my phone anyways?"

"You don't have to believe it, you should *know*." His gaze on her was unwavering, intense.

"You're delusional, I wouldn't trust you to water my plants."

"Too bad, you're stuck with me," he muttered unsympathetically.

"Don't even try to stray away from the subject, answer me. Did you plant that device?"

"What if I did? But then again, what if I didn't? You said so yourself, you don't trust me. So, jump to your own damn conclusions."

She stood there, staring defiantly at him, but not saying a word.

"That's what I thought," he said it with a glower on his face. "I'll leave you alone to talk with your superior." With that, he quickly left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. A walk would do him good, he needed to get away from her. She was affecting him too much. One minute she had him standing nervously beside her, the next minute, she had him furious with her.

*****

After half an hour, Logan trudged up to her apartment wearily and turned the doorknob. Finding that it was unlocked, he let himself in. "Max?"

"What?" He heard her sharp voice and saw her sitting in the middle of the couch, dressed and ready to go.

"Cab's downstairs."

"Fine." She got up and picked up her large suitcase, along with her bag. "Where's your stuff?"

"Already in the trunk." He held the door opened as she walked past him, holding her baggage with ease. He wasn't about the offer his assistance, knowing perfectly well that she would brush him off again.

"Fine."

"Great."

His last comment only managed to make her expression turn sourer, if that was even possible.

"Just get in the car."

Logan did what he was told and prepared himself for a *very* long trip.

*****
End part 4