A/ N: After she got shot in the back and their lead escaped from them, Max decided to take it slow and let the street talk to him. It gave some much-needed recovery time to Phoenix. Now, Christmas Eve is here and with it, lots of questions and impulsive decisions are made. This is one of them. I'm feeling mellow
xxx xxx
Phoenix woke up in their motel room. Two weeks after the fiasco that was confronting Martin Greene, which resulted in Phoenix being shot, Martin's son being traumatized, Martin being taken to prison and Max being pissed off because he had lost their first solid lead on the case. The Assassin tried to forget about what happened right after they left the crime scene. They found out she was shot and was bleeding out and while he patched her up they argued about her freezing at the sight of the kid. She thought Max was pissed off because of the failed mission but he actually was upset because she could have died. To have him worry about her life disturbed her, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to acknowledge that she confessed what she did as an assassin and he listened to her and comforted her. She didn't want to remember how much in distress she felt at that exact moment and how badly seeing this kid impacted on her. But it happened. She rolled onto her side and looked at Max who was fixing them dinner. He was pretty simple when it came to food. It was either takeouts or cans. Tonight, he left and grabbed some Chinese takeaways. Her hazel eyes glanced at the watch on her wrist and she groaned quietly.
« How long did I sleep? » She asked with a sleepy tone.
« Two days since we arrived there. I've just changed your bandages. »
« Thanks. » She yawned and put one foot on the floor while the other remained on the bed. He handed her the Chinese takeaway. «Chinese? » He nodded.
« Not really a Christmas meal uh? »
« Who cares about Christmas? » She grumbled while she started to eat. « Do you have something new about Cesare? »
« They're laying low. I haven't heard anything, except that the drug is still in the fucking market. I guess we'll have to start over and ask the small guys about their bosses. » He said, chugging down his beer while she watched him from the bed. « How d'you feel? »
« Better. » She said, looking at her fresh new bandage. « Much better... You said it wasn't a Christmas meal? Are we on... »
« It's Christmas Eve. »
He sternly said, looking away from her disheveled honey hair. He hated the holiday season, mostly because it rubbed some salt on his very open wound. His family was dead and every fucking time the holidays reminded him that he was alone. After all these years looking for the people who killed his wife and child, he always spent the holidays on his own, ruminating his vengeance and reminiscing the good times he had with his loved ones. He would always get angry, break everything in the room and cry while looking at the only picture of his wife and daughter he kept in a locket that belonged to his wife. He would, every Christmas Eve, just do that. This year was different because he wasn't alone. Phoenix was there. She still was mysterious to Max, but as time went by, she started to reveal a little bit more of herself.
He didn't forget what happened a couple of weeks ago when she cried in his arms about the life she was forced to lead. He already thought she might have been a trained assassin or a special agent or both since the differences were blurred in his mind. She was a killer, a straight up stone-cold killer who had been forced into this life of crime ever since she was born. He suddenly understood why she was wary of being close to people, why she didn't want to be touched but insisted on sleeping next to him and all of her oddities. He understood her dire need to redeem herself.
« Christmas Eve uh ?....Have you ever celebrated it? » She genuinely asked while eating her noodles.
« A long time ago... » He turned the chair so he could look at her. « And you? »
« Once. I went on a mission and I had to attend a Christmas gala or some shit like that. It was the first time I ever saw a Christmas tree with all the lights on. It's... pretty. » She said as she put the noodle box on the night desk.
« Yeah.. it's bullshit most of the time. » He cleared his throat as she cleaned her lips with the back of her hand.
« But you're supposed to spend it with people you care about. »
« That's why I say it's shitty. How do you think /I/ feel? »
He shot her a dark glare, making her swallow a lump. That was silly of her to not take into consideration that he literally LOST his family and the holidays were just reminding him of what he lost. Phoenix cleared her throat and took another bite of her noodles
« I'm sorry... » She paused. He lifted his brow because it was the first time she ever apologized for doing something.- « ….I guess it never really rang a bell to me because I didn't...well..it didn't until I had someone I cared about. » -Max curbed his brow.-
« What happened? » Phoenix clenched her fists and stood up.
« I'm going to brush my teeth now. If you want, later on, we can watch the drug dealers of the town and see if we can find something about their suppliers? » He gave her a faint nod and watched as Phoenix walked towards the bathroom.
She took a deep breath and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Truth be told, she had dreamed of spending Christmas with Phaser, long before he faked his own death and forced her to go on a rampage against the rulers of the organization that kidnapped and raised her to become one of the most ruthless and skilled assassins in the world. She had dreamed of the Christmas trees and the treats and the mistletoe, long before she realized that Phaser was using her as a pawn to destroy the competition and build a new organization with him on its head. She dreamed of that before she went after him and killed him.
Rebuilding her life was more challenging than she thought and she realized since Max told her that he cared for her, that saving lives wasn't the only way to have a new and better life and atone for her past deeds. She also had to make herself happy. Max and she were broken souls, made of the same cloth. She empathized a lot with him and she knew he understood her as well. Phoenix felt it, the chemistry between the two of them when they were hunting criminals and killed their goons. She felt it that other night when he held her in her arms and had her hug him back. She splashed water on her face and turned on her heels to look at the tiled ceiling of the bathroom.
Max was confused as well. He hardened his heart, made sure that nobody could ever enter it. What he felt for Phoenix was confused and even he couldn't quite say what it was. He cared for her, wanted her to stay alive, wanted her to succeed and have a better life. He understood what she went through and was angry she experienced it. Her life was unfair, a string of mistreatment and violence.He recognized in her a kindred spirit, someone who could understand the broken man he was today and who wouldn't want to change him into his old self or a man he would never be. She also was as broken as he was and he recognized in her the will to eventually die as a way to atone for her life of crime. He himself had thought of dying several times.
His personal vendetta against the men who killed his family could end with his own death that he wouldn't care... but there she was, making it difficult to think of an « end » instead of a « beginning ». He couldn't stop but think of how nice it actually was to hold her in his arms. He couldn't stop but think of how beautiful she was that night, a beauty he acknowledged already in the past but never really admired than that night when he was stitching her up. He looked at the takeaway on the table and then realized she had been silent for quite some time so he stood up. He opened the door of the bathroom, only to look at her, wearing only black panties and a black thin strapped top. Her honey hair was cascading on her shoulders and teased the small of her back while her hazel eyes were looking straight into his blue ones. Max was panting softly and watched as her ample chest heaved up and down as she stared at him. Her sugary lips were half-opened as she intensely stared at him.
He looked handsome just right there, his stubble on his face, his square jaw, his deep piercing glacier eyes and the intensity of his gaze. He looked at her from head to toe for another second before he grabbed her cheeks and pressed his lips to hers. She moaned in between their lips and shut her eyes tight. The kiss was bruising, hard, demanding. She tasted good, sweeter than he expected her too but with a hint of metal since she was always firing guns and using knives. He tasted like menthol and cinnamon, somehow, and as she pulled away to take her breath back and stare intensely at him, Phoenix put her fingers to his lips. Her eyes shifted from left to right, her lips still half-open as she wanted to say something but words died at the back of her throat. Shivers went down their spines as he pressed his lips against hers. He used his powerful arm to lift her up so she would sit on the sink and he would push himself in between her legs.
Phoenix gasped and pulled away again. She was slowly getting overwhelmed with emotions she didn't welcome yet and so was he. The kiss was random but so desperately needed by both of them that it became a moment of truth. At this exact moment, both knew how they felt towards one another but it was too early, too young, too big for either of them to actually try and look into it. Phoenix closed her eyes. His hands held onto her face before he leaned his forehead against hers. Suddenly, the sharp pain in her belly reminded her of her last predicament and she groaned painfully, thus breaking the magic of the moment. Max chuckled to himself and put his hand on her taut belly before his lips pressed against hers one last time. He pulled away and left the bathroom to let her regain her composure. As he closed the door behind him, Phoenix stood back up and turned around to look at her image in the mirror. She ran her fingers over her plump lips to relish in his taste, just like he did for a minute before he sat back on the chair and worked on keeping a stern face. That was a one-time accident... Or was it?
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