Notes: Dude...I'm exhausted. Here it is, not much to say, except for my thank yous. To my beta readers: Saz (Sassafraz), who is the master grammar editor. Ah, what would I do without ya? Really, you should see this thing before it goes through her tough screening process. Tense problems galore! :) Frankie (Arwen), who jumps on me every time a have a characterization problem. I'm working on the descriptions, babe, really I am. Oh! And the French, can't forget that! I speak French like a three year old, thanks to Frankie, it got upped a few years. Oh, and a special beta, Cat (RainnCat) who bugged me to no end about this part, thanks, I needed that extra push. Although I do think that she beta'd mainly for the sneak peek. ;-)

*****

Max marched up to the front desk, leaving Logan in tow behind her, struggling with their baggage. She had decided to do him a favor and 'let' him carry the bags; needless to say, he was simply 'thrilled' by the honor. Their flight had consisted of thick and tense silence; few words had been exchange between them. The awkward atmosphere was an unsurprising result of their argument that morning. During the cab ride, they eventually agreed that Max would do most of the talking, since her extensive Manticore upbringing made her rather fluent in French. Logan, who knew only minimal French, enough to get by whenever he was assigned there, was a little unsure of the arrangement. Max did somewhat promise him that she would give him the play by play, although Logan wasn't sure how much he trusted her 'promise'.

They patiently waited in line until they were finally up at the front desk. Max sauntered up with Logan lagging behind, with Logan lagging behind, desperately trying to get a firm grip on a small luggage with his already full hand, while fighting to keep gravity from getting the better of him. A couple of old ladies and a little boy in a corner seemed to enjoy Logan's display of acrobatic feats. But Max simply ignored her struggling companion. She flashed the man behind the desk a megawatt smile. Logan had to hold back a sneer; it was a little bit over the top. Ignoring his flustered struggles with their baggage, she turned her attention to the man in front of her. "Nous aimerions avoir notre chamber, s'il vous plait" She hoped that their room was private and unobtrusive. Too much attention directed at them was unwanted.

The man smiled back at her and quickly ran his fingers over his keyboard. Finding the correct directory, he asked for their name. "Je serais ravie de vérifier, sous quel nom?"

"C'est Compton." Logan hung back a bit, but managed to pick up a few words from their exchange. Max was just simply asking for the room. No underhanded tricks...yet.

"Ah! Monsieur et madame Compton, chambre cinq cents deux, septième
étage."

Max nodded and filed the information away, seventh floor; room 512. "Est-ce très haut, avec vue?"

"Avec une très belle vue sur les Champs Élysés je doit avoué. Chambre 512. Un chasseur prendra vos baggages. Nous vous souhaitons un agréable séjour parmis nous."

"Merci." Logan was relieved to see a lanky man, who he assumed was the bellhop, jog up to them and offer to help take some luggage off his hands.

After a brief and silent ride on the elevator, they reached the room and the bellhop unloaded the bags onto the carpeted floor. He smiled after getting his tip and murmured a few words of thanks and left quietly.

"Hon, can you put this bag on that dresser?" Max tossed him a small duffle bag as he easily caught it and did what he was told, also pausing a moment to examine every nook and cranny of the drawers, and the darkened area behind the bureau as well. Nothing.

"Sure sweetie, don't forget to call your mother later." He walked over to the vase of flowers and promptly stuck his head in between the blooms, looking around, making sure that there wasn't anything suspicious in there.

"Will do." Max was sprawled out on the floor, squeezing her thin frame to get a good look at space under the oak bed. "Did you remember to pack those batteries for your razor?"

"Of course." Finding nothing under the bed, she moved on to bathroom and proceeded to examine the pristine room. Noticing that the bed was up for grabs, Logan climbed on top of it and peeled away the pale, thick comforter and carelessly threw the pillows onto the floor. He ran his hands over the soft linen, making sure that there were no suspicious bumps anywhere.

They carried on like that for fifteen minutes, making sure that there was no unexamined crevice. Weary, he flopped onto the messy bed, and rolled over to look at Max, looming over him with an irritated look on her face. Great. What did he do, now? "What? There's no bug here so don't look at me like that."

"What do you think you're doing?" Her hands were on her hips and that annoyed expression was still apparent on her features.

"What are you talking about, now? I've done everything we've planned *perfectly*" What was her problem? They had been on the clock for less than a day and she was already unsatisfied with his work. Who made her boss?

"Keep your head on the objective, this isn't play time." She reached down and grabbed the comforter, throwing it over him. "Get up, nap later, there's work to be done. Make the bed first."

She can't order him around like that. Who does she think she is? Logan stubbornly crossed his arms are met her glare straight on. "C'mon, it's not like it'll be that suspicious looking. A married couple? Unmade bed?" He waited as his full meaning of his words sunk into her head, and her face contorted in annoyance even more, "Is it clicking in there?"

"Get up."

Might as well admit defeat. He was tired of the staring contest, anyways. Logan grudgingly rolled off the bed and started to straighten up the pillows and blanket. He couldn't help but notice her lack of assistance. She just merely loomed over him with her jaw squared, observing his every move. "Sorry I'm not more like Blondie," he muttered.

"You're right, you're not."

"Since we're on the subject of the objective...did you talk to your superior?" He tossed a frilly pillow onto the bed and started straightening the other cushions.

"Yes."

"And...?'

She looked at him innocently, shrugging. "That's it."

Logan grinned and played along with her little game. "What did he say?"

"The usual stuff," she replied evasively.

"What specifically?"

"Keep our heads on straight. I relayed to him what we've done so far, what we're planning, stuff like that." Her eyes shifted around a bit, and her tone was dismissive, barely noticeable, but Logan caught it.

"And...?" He waited patiently, enjoying the way she bit her lip in nervousness.

"And what?" she snapped.

"Any mention of the bug?"

She sighed and seated herself on the nearby couch. "It was planted by Manticore," she grunted through gritted teeth.

Logan beamed. "R-e-e-e-a-lly...?" So...he was right! Score one for Cale...

"Yes" If glares can throw fire, he would've been burned to ashes. God, that guy was just too smug. "Are you satisfied?"

"Very much so."

"Oh, shut up." She maintained her glowering stare on him, until, bit by bit, his smile disappeared and the oh-so-familiar apprehensive look reappeared. He was looking at her expectantly. "What? Do you want me to apologize?" The thought of even remotely saying anything along the lines of 'I'm sorry' to him was just...unfathomable. She would rather jump into a volcano before she would ever utter anything close to an apology.

"It would be nice if you did."

"I don't do nice," she snapped.

All amusement was gone from the situation; she was just being difficult again. "Obviously."

After he finished tidying up the bed, he walked over to the mini-bar and poured himself a drink. Perhaps if he drunk enough, he might not be bothered too much by her obviously hostility towards him...and why was she hostile, again? Now that he thought about it, he really didn't know. That was definitely something to file away for later. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her watching him like a hawk, with her arms crossed across her chest defensively. "What did I do now?" Taking another swig of the vodka, he closed his eyes, enjoying how it warmed him up a bit. It was definitely a much-needed change from his 'partner's' icy attitude.

"Nothing."

"Ok."

She continued to stand like that, concentrating hard on something.

"Do you want something?"

"Pour me a glass."

Logan looked at her, bewildered. He could've been easily knocked down with a feather at that moment. "Wha...What?"

"Please?" Whoa, that was new. It wasn't very often that he heard those words come out of her mouth. Okay, try never.

He did as he was told, as usual. Handing over the clear glass with a smile, he sat on chair opposite hers. "You always drink on the job?"

"I never drink on the job." It was true too. Alcohol dulled the senses, making everything blurred. Max never had that control taken from her because she always liked having it. But hey, might as well this once. He was giving her a big headache, and anything that made it go away was a good thing.

"What are you doing now?" he inquired with slight amusement.

"Drinking." Her reply was simple and Logan knew that she wasn't about to go in depth about it.

Reveling in their momentary truce, he made himself comfortable and looked out the window. "Why did you request a view?"

"Because it's pretty."

"Pretty?" Logan didn't know whether to accept her words at face value, or to be on guard. She could be messing with his mind again.

"Don't you agree?"

"Yeah, of course, I love looking at the Champs Élysés whenever I'm here." Face value it is, then.

She nodded, agreeing with him, for once.

The somewhat companionable silence gave Logan some time to think. Maybe she wasn't all that bad. She did work hard the previous night and she did her job well. Perhaps it was time for them to bury the hatchet and make amends. "Max?" Feeling a bit braver, he stood and moved a bit closer, until he was right behind her.

"What?" Her reply sounded disinterested, she was still staring out the window, at the fields.

"About what happened this morning..."

That got her attention. Her body swiveled around and nearly collided into his. She felt her arm brush up against his and tried her best to ignore the surge of feelings that came flooding into her head. They were intense, she just didn't know if they were of anger, or something else. "What about it?" she answered guardedly. They were practically nose-to-nose but neither was willing to back off and be the first to move away.

He hesitated. Simply standing there and staring at the dark depths of her eyes. For a moment, the coldness eased up and they looked almost warm and inviting, asking him to continue. "I'm sorry," he replied softly. He meant it, too. The whole flight over there, he berated himself for handling the situation badly, definitely shouldn't have stormed out like that. She did work hard all night on something that they were both supposed to do. He didn't make it any easier by commenting on her appearance and snooping around her place. It was just a stupid mistake piled on top of his already growing stack. Maybe it was his entire fault. It certainly wasn't in the 'Manticore' nature to be that angry or affected. It had to be something that he did, and he was truly sorry for that.

He looked down at her; her face was hesitant and maybe even a bit scared. He meant no harm. Logan wanted to reassure her. He could easily reach out just a little and hold her, reach out and explore the contours of her face with his fingers. Get lost in the bottomless depths of her gorgeous eyes. Her faint scent raided his mind; she was just so...

The tension between them was almost unbearable. One of them had to back off before they both suffocated. What did he mean? Was he sorry for misleading her? Or for lying to her? Or was he just sorry for what happened that morning? Max just stood there, staring at him in awe. His cerulean eyes reflected true remorse. A slight smile was on his face, his way of asking for her forgiveness. If she didn't know any better, he was almost...a different person. That smile, it was giving her a heady sensation, he so close and his warmth practically invaded her senses. For the first moment since they met again, she didn't look at him with her signature scorn. Her face almost looked shock. And he was so close. It would be so easy to just reach up and...

"Max?"

Her head snapped back to reality and the look of wonder disappeared. She mentally pushed away all the dangerous thoughts that had been clouding her head a moment earlier. Inhaling deeply, she took large step back to a relatively safe distance, and away from the dangerous thoughts that were pushing their way into her mind. She ran her hand through her hair agitatedly. "What are you sorry for?"

Logan inwardly flinched at the reemergence of her patented indifferent voice. "For our fight this morning."

"Oh." Was that disappointment in her voice? Couldn't be, she was indifferent to everything, although occasionally, antagonism emerged.

Logan hesitantly shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground, pausing every now and then to glance at her expression. "So...what do you think?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged her shoulders. What did she think? Maybe it was best to call a truce; to try to work amicably, at least until the assignment was over. But then again, could she really trust him? After what he did to her?

Logan saw the conflicting emotions play across her face and waited patiently for her reply. Now was not the time to piss her off. Maybe things would work out.

"No."

He blinked hard. "What?" Did he hear right?

"You expect us to be all buddy-buddy just because you said 'sorry'? You expect me to forget every snide comment and sneer that you directed to me? You want me to just overlook the fact that you lied to me and to be friends? I don't think so." Her face flushed slightly with the anger that boiled up inside her. How dare he? That pompous jerk!

Logan was at a lost for words. For a moment, he had actually entertained the idea that they were going to get along and that there wouldn't be any more fights. Obviously, he was wrong. His mouth fought to gain control, not wanting anything to slip out that he might regret later. He willed himself to say something. Something that will make it all better. "When have I lied to you?" Okay, wrong thing to say, but he couldn't help it. She was throwing out accusations and he needed to defend himself.

"Shut the fuck up. Don't even pretend that you don't know." She clenched her hands tightly at her sides to keep them from throwing something at him. He was just so infuriating.

"I *don't* know!"

"Like hell you don't! Was I that forgettable? What was I, the hundredth notch? Have you been batting a thousand? Wow, Logan so many questions, and yet I don't fuckin' care what the answers are. Just leave it alone. Better yet, leave me alone." The words fled out of her mouth so fast, Logan was still fighting to comprehend everything and piece to together.

But to no avail. "What?"

"Give it up, you don't need to carry on pretending. We both know what's going on."

"No *we* don't."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying!"

The anger rose up in her, forming a lump in her throat, and preventing her from speaking.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," he helplessly stated. Notch...batting...WHAT? He didn't understand what she was talking about. He tried really hard, but still...nothing.

The lost look in his eyes only managed to fuel her anger. That idiot was still keen on keeping up the charade. Well fine! She can play, too. "Then, let's drop it."

"Drop what?" he questioned pitifully. All he received was a cold look from her. Her eyes bored into his, menacingly and unrelenting.

"Nothing."

"Don't do this, please Max." His face was twisted in grief as he pleaded with her. He was fed up with it. Enough was enough. They might as well work out their problems if the partnership was going to work. She didn't seem to want to work things out though, that baffled him. Why not? Whatever happened in the past is done and over with. Hell, her stealing the chip from him didn't seem that bad anymore. He probably would've done the same thing. 'Except wouldn't I have slept with her to do it', he thought bitterly. Immediately, he tried to squelch the rising resentment. It would only manage to lead them nowhere.

"Just go away."

"What?" She sure had a knack for throwing him off-guard.

"Leave for awhile."

Why? Again, not any clearer. He wished that she would clarify once in a while, to make it a little easier on him. "I don't understand."

Max held back another explosion. God, he was so dense sometimes. "We need some time apart. To cool down, like last time."

The look of recognition flashed across his features. "Oh..."

"So...go."

"But we should work this out."

"Not now."

"But--"

"We have to cool down first," she said firmly.

Maybe she was right. Time apart would do them good. Nodding his head, he relented.

He walked over to the door and paused. Turning to look at her again. "I'm still sorry about earlier. With the exception of my name, you know, I've *never* lied to you before, so..." He shrugged and left, closing the door softly behind him.

Alone, Max collapsed onto the bed, effectively wrinkling the sheets that Logan had previously smoothed out, feeling a little bit guilty for messy up his work after she hounded him to make the bed. She was tired, not physically, but the confrontations with Logan were really taking it out of her. Not wanting to think about it anymore, she got up and walked out the same door that Logan when through a few minutes ago. Might as well get some food, no sense in starving herself.

*****

In the lobby, Logan browsed through a map of Paris, re-familiarizing himself with the city. It had been a while since he was last there.

"Pardon? Monsieur Compton?"

Logan whipped his head around to see the smiling man that was at the front desk before. Before seemed like such a long time ago after his recent squabble with Max. He returned the smile as his mind tried to work out the words. "Umm...Je ne parler pas Françias beaucoup."

"That's all right, I speak some English," he said through a thick accent.

Logan's eyebrows shot up. "Why didn't you say so before?"

"Your wife speaks so fluently, I enjoyed listening to her."

Logan nodded, quickly deciphering the words, and forced out a smile. "Yup, she's something." He casually stuck out his hand towards the other man. "Alden Compton."

"Luc Pallion," he shook the proffered hand enthusiastically, his bright smile still unrealistically in place.

"Nice to meet you, Luc." Logan pronounced the name with such deliberation that it made the other man grin even wider, if that was possible.

"Are you and your wife enjoying visiting?"

Logan scratched his head and grinned. "We haven't really gotten a chance to look at the sites yet." It was true, they had spent all their time searching for hidden surveillance equipment and fighting.

"Ah, newlyweds!" Luc exclaimed it as if it explained everything. "I understand, now," he said with his gray moustache twitching and a sly wink.

Logan nearly choked on air, but quickly recovered before Luc noticed anything. He just hoped that his face wasn't flushed. Boy, was that guy way off base. "Yeah." He fidgeted awkwardly with his tie and tried to get his breathing back to normal. "Uh, can you get me a cab?"

"Of course, monsieur. Will madame Compton come down soon?"

"No, she's awfully tired--" Upon seeing the look on the other man's face, Logan shocked features quickly tried to amend his words. "From the *flight*. Yeah, the flight, you know, time difference and all. Plus the whole rush at the airport and the bad airplane food really takes it out of a person. Travel is always hard on her, and me too. Not that I'm a bad flyer, just a little scared of heights, but you know..." The words came out of his mouth in a quick rush and Luc stood by, amused by the flustered younger man. Logan stopped talking and lightly panted, a bit exerted from the spill of words that came out of his mouth. "Can I get that cab, now?"

"It'll be on its way, monsieur."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure, monsieur."

*****

Max stomach rumbled as stepped onto the lobby floor. Hopefully there was a restaurant nearby. She inwardly smiled as she spotted a small place across the street. About to sprint over there and grab herself a sandwich, a tap on the shoulder interrupted her thoughts.

"Madame Compton?"

"What?" A little annoyed that someone was keeping her from her food, she swirled around quickly, nearly knocking Luc to the ground. "Oh, pardonnez moi." Max grabbed his arm and helped him regain his balance as she quickly gave him a once over to make sure that she didn't break any bones.

"I'm fine, Madame."

"You speak English," Max mused out loud.

"Oui, and how was your nap?"

Max looked at him, confused. "Huh?"

"Am I not saying it right? Nap...uh...dormir." He watched her expectantly and waited for the recognition to set in.

Max's eyebrow furrowed in concentration and after a few moments of contemplating, her features brightened. "Oh! *Nap*, I understand now. Yes, it was very...good." Max still had no clue what he was talking about. Probably something that Logan said.

"Unfortunately, you missed Monsieur Compton. He just left a few minutes ago."

"That's all right. I didn't think that I'd be able to catch him anyways."

Luc nodded and grinned wider at her. "Monsieur Compton certainly adores his wife."

Max did a double take and coughed. "Wha? Me?"

"Of course."

She shook her head in disbelief and glanced over at the man. "And how do you know that?" she asked curiously.

"He acts a certain way when you are mentioned...that's all."

"Really?" Max looked at him skeptically. "Well he should!" She smiled. Better not make the guy suspicious. Just then, her stomach growled loudly. Laughing a little she pointed over to the café across the street. "I should get something to eat. I'm starving."

"Have a nice afternoon."

"Thanks, you too." She turned away and walked out of the hotel. The cold air that hit her face made her scowl. Logan didn't even have to be present to bother her. What was that guy talking about? 'He acts a certain way...' Right.

*****