Wizard, Waiter, Brother, Spy (T/PG-13) 1/2
TITLE: Wizard, Waiter, Brother, Spy
RATING/CONTENT: T/PG-13 (and only just) for references to consensual, slightly underage sibcest, and mild cursing. Established Jalex, from Max's POV.
WORD COUNT: Approx. 18K in two parts
DISCLAIMER: Would you believe that I don't own Wizards of Waverly Place or its characters? Shocking, I know. I also don't own Spider-Man, Bizarro World, Sonny With A Chance, or the state of South Dakota. Heck, even the Halloween Sorority Party Disaster series doesn't belong to me, and that isn't even a real thing! Man...!
SPOILERS: Incidental spoilage for Season 3 (up to about Episode 3.12, "Dude Looks Like Shakira") and the movie, but nothing major.
SUMMARY: Tired of always playing third wheel to Justin and Alex, and tasked with spying on them by a paranoid Jerry while their parents are away, Max inadvertantly uncovers a secret that's way, way bigger than he bargained for.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written as a companion piece to my last fic, Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger (where it fits in neatly between the last two chapters), but that mostly just matters to me. It's not necessary to have read that story to enjoy this one.
i.
“Ungh!” Jerry grunted, red-faced and out of breath as he struggled to navigate down the spiral staircase into the living room, while carrying the last of his wife’s bags.
“Jeez Theresa, what do you need all this stuff for? We’re only going to be gone for the weekend!” Stopping halfway, he set the bag down with a grunt, and leaned heavily on the railing, exhausted. “And why the hell do we have so many twisty stairs in this place, anyway?”
Panting heavily, trying to catch his breath, he looked up to see Max sitting on the edge of the couch, bobbing and weaving as he waved a video game controller in the air between him and the television, his shoulders hunched in deep concentration. (Well, in at least what passed for deep concentration where Max was concerned, anyway.)
“Hey Max, buddy?” Jerry called down to him. “You wanna come and give your old man a hand with this?”
“Can you give me a sec, Dad?” Max said over his shoulder. “I’m just trying to remember where I dropped the chainsaw.”
“Oh,” Jerry panted, wiping the sweat off his brow. He looked past Max at the TV and blinked. “Uh, Max? What’s that you’re playing?”
“Halloween Sorority Party Disaster 4.5,” Max replied. “It’s the videogame prequel to Halloween Sorority Party Disaster 5 that fills in all the plot holes between it and the fourth one. It’s essential to play if you’re going to understand anything that happens in Halloween Sorority Party Disaster 6 when it comes out in theatres this Christmas.”
“Ohhh-kay,” Jerry said hesitantly, stepping over the bag in front of him and coming the rest of the way down the stairs. “Is it supposed to look like that, though? ‘Cause from here it looks like the TV isn’t even on…”
“Well, of course the TV’s off,” Max said matter-of-factly, without taking his eyes off the blank screen. “I don’t have the game yet.”
Jerry blinked again. “You…don’t?”
“Duh, no!” Max scoffed. “It’s rated ‘M’ for mature. You have to be at least 18 to buy it. I’m only 15, remember?”
“Ah,” Jerry frowned, not quite sure where Max was going with this. “But then why--?”
“But what you don’t have to be 18 to buy is the hint book,” Max cut him off, grabbing the book off the couch next to him and holding up for Jerry to see. “Which I am now using to train myself in playing the game, so that when I finally do turn 18 and buy it, I’ll be able to beat it in no time at all, and finally learn the horrible secret behind the midget’s mask.”
“But…that’s not for three years, son,” Jerry pointed out.
“No worries, it’s all about the muscle memory,” Max said, glancing at his father over his shoulder. “Aren’t you the one who says you can still beat Donkey Kong with your eyes closed twenty years later?”
Jerry stared blankly at his son then heaved a heavy sigh. “Of all the ways you could have taken after me…”
“Oh, shoot! Died again!” Max grunted, throwing down his controller in disgust.
“How can you tell?”
Max cocked an eyebrow at him and gestured at the blank TV screen. “Hello? Midget? Meat cleaver? Blood spatters? It’s pretty self-evident, Dad. Good thing I saved at that last checkpoint.”
“Well, why don’t you…pause it…for now,” Jerry said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the staircase, “and give me a hand dragging your mom’s luggage down to the Sub Station. The cab will be here to get us any minute.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, Max,” Alex’s voice came from upstairs before he could answer. “I got it.”
And then, in a brilliant flash of purplish-yellow light, the bag Jerry had been struggling with magically appeared on the coffee table in front of them.
“ALEX!” Jerry shouted, then closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. “Alex, get down here!”
“What?!” Alex protested, the heels of her boots clanking on the stairs as she made her way down. “I’m just trying to help! That bag looked heavy, and the stairs are all twisty. Have you ever tried maneuvering down those things in three-inch heels? ‘Cause lemme tell ya, it ain’t easy.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, young lady, you’re grounded this weekend,” Jerry said. “Which means no dates, no boys, no parties, and most importantly, no magic. In fact, any activity at all which you might consider fun, you can just cross right off the list. The only thing I expect you to concern yourself with this weekend is helping Justin to run the Sub Station while we’re away, and catching up on your Wizard studies.”
Alex rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “OK, Dad.”
“Don’t talk back, Alex,” Jerry admonished, jabbing an index finger at her accusingly. “It’s high time that you learned that with great power comes great responsibility!”
“Oh God, not the Spider-Man speech again,” Max groaned.
“Uh, Dad?” Alex held out her hands in front of her. “Who’s got two thumbs and isn’t talking back? This girl right here. So, maybe, I don’t know, chill a little?”
Jerry blinked at her, then cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes as he replayed the last few moments of the conversation in his head. “That’s right, you didn’t talk back. And that worries me, deeply. Why didn’t you talk back, Alex?”
“D-a-a-ad!” Alex whined, stomping her heel in frustration. “Can’t you just believe that I’ve matured enough to accept my punishment like an adult? ‘Do the crime, do the time,’ all that jazz? I’ve grown up a lot since Puerto Rico, y’know.”
Jerry was silent for a moment as he held his pouting daughter’s gaze. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he held up one hand as if preparing to say something wise and heartfelt…then leaned forward and slapped his knee as both he and Max suddenly collapsed into helpless peals of laughter. Alex threw up her arms in exasperation, then crossed them below her breasts and shook her head angrily.
“Good one, honey,” Jerry chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “But seriously, hand over your wand, huh?”
“You really still don’t trust me?” Alex said. “After everything we’ve been through?”
“No offense, sweetheart, but it’s because of everything we’ve been through that I don’t trust you. Fool me once, yada yada yada, you know how it goes.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers at her in the universal gesture of ‘gimmie’. “C’mon, give it up.”
Alex glared at him a moment, nostrils flaring, then rolled her eyes and hunched over to lift her right knee to her her chest. Muttering under her breath, she fished her wand out of her boot, twirled it once around her finger, and pressed the handle into her father’s palm.
“Fine. Here.”
“Atta girl,” Jerry smiled as he tucked it into his back pocket. “You can have it back on Tuesday after your mother and I get back.”
“Wait, you’re going to bring it with you all the way to Grandma’s?” Alex asked in a panicked voice. “What if you lose it? What if you sit on it? What if she uses it as a stake for one of her tomato plants like she did that one time?”
Max whistled at the memory. “Man, those were some big tomatoes. Mean, too.”
“Relax, Alex,” Jerry sighed. “Nothing’s going to happen to your wand. I’ll keep it perfectly safe, I promise.”
“The last time you said that, I spent two weeks breaking in a new one, and Justin had nightmares about tomatoes with fangs for six months!” said Alex. “Dad, be reasonable! What if one of the boys gets into trouble while you’re gone, and I have to go rescue them, or something?”
“Pfft!” Max scoffed from the couch. “Like that ever happens.”
A slow grin spread across Jerry’s face. “See, now I know that keeping your wand is the right thing to do. Because you definitely want it for something, and I’ll be damned if it’s to look out for your brothers.”
Alex glared at him, then slumped her shoulders in defeat. “Yeah, that was a little far-fetched, wasn’t it?”
“Little bit. Points for trying, though.”
“Cab’s here!” Justin announced brightly as he entered through the front door. “Dad, Mom says to hurry up and get your tush downstairs with that last suitca-oh good, there it is.”
Whipping his wand out of his pocket, Justin twirled it in the air with a flourish and pointed it at the suitcase, which disappeared in a brilliant flash of purplish-yellow light. Justin grinned, nodded to himself in satisfaction, then started as he caught the glare that both his siblings and his father were giving him.
“What?” he protested. “The meter’s already running! That bag looked heavy, and the stairs are all twisty! And you know how prone my ankle is to turning…”
“Your mother and I expect you to set a much better example for your sister and your brother while we’re gone,” Jerry said patiently after another inward ten-count. “I swear, every day it seems like Alex rubs off on you just a little bit more. It’d be nice if it worked the other way for a change.”
“Heh,” Alex and Justin grinned, almost in unison.
Jerry frowned. “Why is that funny?”
Justin and Alex locked eyes guiltily for a second, before turning them back to their father.
“Uh, it’s funny,” Justin stammered, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck nonchalantly as he flushed a deep shade of red, “because of the, um…irony…that’s inherent…in the notion of-“
“The fastest way to kill a joke is to explain it, egghead,” Alex broke in quickly, chuckling as she threw her arms around Jerry and leaning her head against his shoulder. “Have a nice trip, Daddy!”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jerry said flatly, extricating himself from her grasp. He pointed at Justin. “You’re sure you’re OK with this? Labor Day weekend. Sub Station's gonna be busy…”
“Dad, please,” Justin said smugly. “I’ve got this.”
“We’ve got this,” Alex amended pointedly, then smiled at Jerry. “You and Mom just have a good time. Say hi to Grandma for us.”
“Alright,” Jerry said, although he sounded somewhat less than convinced. “Justin, remember: one pickle per sandwich, don’t go overboard with the black olives, and don’t forget to make the deposit. Alex, you listen to your brother, help out as much as you can, and for God’s sake, don’t let Harper offer free fashion advice to the customers. I swear, we lose more business that way…”
“Uh, Harper’s away at Zeke’s family reunion all weekend, Dad,” Justin reminded him. “Remember? The Big Beekerman Family Fun Jamboree in the Hamptons?”
“Snkt, jamboree!” Alex snickered, elbowing her brother in the ribs. “I don’t know which one of us is being punished more, me or Harper. Because, dude, if the rest of the family’s anything like Zeke, I’d almost rather be on house arrest…”
Justin scowled at her, indignant. “For your information, the Beekermans are delightful people, the Jamboree is the highlight of the late-summer social season, and I’m very disappointed to have to miss helping his grandmother defend our title as Three-Legged Race champions, three years running.”
"Three years hopping, you mean," Max grinned. "Get it? Because it's a three-legged race, and--"
“Wait, so Harper’s not picking up any shifts at the Sub Station?” Jerry cut him off, frowning from Alex to Justin, and back. “It’s just gonna be you guys, all weekend? I dunno, I’m beginning to have second thoughts about this. I mean, I know she’s a terrible at it and all, but if it’s between having her or Max wait tables…”
“Dad, it’ll be fine, honest,” Alex said, patting Jerry’s arm. “You know how responsible Justin is.”
“And Alex and I make a pretty good team when we have to,” Justin added. (And if Jerry didn’t know his kids better, he’d swear that a kind of amused, knowing look passed between them for a split second, like they were sharing some sort of inside joke.) “Seriously. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
This should have quelled any uneasiness Jerry had about leaving them alone for the weekend-after all, it was all true-but for some reason, it didn’t. If anything, it only served to feed the deep sense of foreboding that had been lingering in the back of his mind about it for almost as long as they’d planned it. If only he could put his finger on why...
His train of thought was broken by the sound of a car horn coming from the street below the terrace, followed by Theresa’s melodious voice screaming at him to get his ass downstairs, already.
“Hey Alex, it’s Cab 804 that’s taking them, by the way,” Justin said, gesturing to the door. “He’s asking for you.”
“Bert's here? Oh, sweet!” Alex beamed. “C’mon, Daddy, let’s go say hi to him before you go!”
“Mmm-hmm,” Jerry murmured. But he didn’t follow them as they went bounding down the stairs, one after the other, without so much as a shove or an elbow to the ribs. Looking for all the world like two people who were content, even happy, to be in one another’s presence.
And then Jerry snapped his fingers, as the source of his vague sense of foreboding suddenly became clear to him: Alex and Justin were being nice to each other. Way, way too nice. Pleasant, even. Which meant that something was definitely, positively up. Because, seriously.
“What do you want me to do, Dad?”
“Huh?” Jerry asked, startled. He turned halfway round, and was surprised to see Max sitting on the couch, grinning eagerly up at him. To be perfectly honest, he’d completely forgotten his youngest was even there.
“What do you want me to do?” Max repeated. “You gave jobs to Justin and Alex. So what’s my job?”
Despite himself, Jerry found himself hesitating. “Uh…y’know…the usual. Work your shifts at the Sub Station, keep on top of your wizard homework…um…and try not to break the lamp? Oh, and keep working on that video game thing! It looked like you were really getting the hang of it!”
“Oh, c’mon Dad!” Max half-sighed, half-pleaded as he pushed himself up off the couch. “You’re letting Justin run the Station all weekend, and even Alex you’re trusting a little. Even though, y’know…wow."
“Yeah…” Jerry admitted, a little more quickly than he would have liked.
“It’s just that it always feels like it’s all about them all the time,” Max continued, despondent. “They always get to run the show, and I’m just kind of…shoved in around the edges, kinda. Sometimes I wonder why I’m even around!”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Jerry frowned, laying a hand on Max’s shoulder. “You’re not just shoved in around the edges. You know you mean as much to me and your mom as Justin and Alex do.”
“Then give me something to do!” Max exclaimed. “Give me a job that only I can do, that you wouldn’t trust Alex or Justin with.”
Jerry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, appraising his youngest son. On the one hand, Max was…well, Max. But on the other, the boy did have a point. The Russo family did tend to orbit around Planet Jalex, more often than not. And there was always that old saw about needing to be trusted in order to prove oneself trustworthy…
“Alright, Max,” Jerry nodded, more to himself than to his son. “There is actually something you can do for me. You see, my Spidey Sense is tingling.”
“And again with the Spider-Man speech…” Max said flatly as he turned away.
“No wait, listen,” Jerry said, grabbing Max’s shoulder firmly. “What I mean is that I suspect your brother and your sister may be in cahoots.”
Max stared up at him blankly.
“Working together,” Jerry said by way of explanation. “As in the two of them are up to something no good. I know how unlikely that sounds, but they’ve been far too nice to each other lately for there to be any other explanation.”
Max nodded and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I have noticed a drop-off in the usual cycle of wedgies, wet willies and overall snarkiness the past few weeks, but I thought it was just me.”
“They also seem to be hugging a lot more, lately," Jerry observed. “For uncomfortably long periods of time, too.”
“No, they’ve always done that,” Max said, waving one hand dismissively.
“Oh,” Jerry frowned, nonplussed. “Uh...anyway, it’s possible that Alex has either a) blackmailed Justin, b) put a charm on him so he’ll go along with whatever she’s up to, or c) just duplicated him outright and hidden the real Justin away somewhere where he can’t interfere.”
“Or d),” Max interjected, holding up one finger, “something recently happened between them that gave them a deeper appreciation for one another and made them realize just how important their relationship is.”
Jerry considered this for a moment. “Yeah, I’m more inclined to go with my theory.”
“Me too, me too,” Max nodded. He grinned eagerly. “So you want me to get to the bottom of it?”
“Without arousing their suspicions if you can, yes,” Jerry said. “Now remember, you’re just a scout. Don’t engage the enemy, just observe and report. Whatever you find out, we’ll deal it with on Monday night when your mother and I get back. Understand?”
“Yes sir!” Max said, snapping off a jaunty salute.
“Alright, then. One more thing.” Jerry reached into his back pocket, then handed Alex’s wand to Max. “On the off chance that I’m wrong-or even worse, if I’m right-Alex makes a good point that it could be dangerous to leave her wandless over the weekend. I want you to stash this somewhere she can’t find it-“
“Right on,” Max said. “I’ll hide it in my room.”
“-but where you can get to it easily if she needs it in an emergency,” Jerry finished.
“Oh,” Max grimaced, thinking twice. “So somewhere in the lair, I guess?”
“Wherever you think is best,” Jerry smiled, patting Max on the shoulder. Out on the street, Bert the Cab honked his horn again, which was followed closely by a string of Spanish expletives, causing Jerry to wince.
“I gotta get going, son,” Jerry said. “Can I trust you with this?”
“You bet, Dad,” Max nodded, all smiles. “Whatever it is Justin and Alex are hiding, you’ll know it by Monday.”
ii.
Twenty minutes later, having bade his parents goodbye, hidden his sister’s wand, and forgotten entirely about his ‘mission’, Max was back on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He fiddled with the controller and frowned as he read aloud softly from the hint guide that lay open on the cushion next to him.
“Right, so I head four hallways north of the pillow fight room, stop to pick up the rubber chicken with the pulley in the middle, and turn left at second intersection. Then I turn right at the next one, fifty feet after that, kick the wolfman in the nards when he leaps out at me, then jump over him and head straight for the next checkpoint…which is where I should have dropped the chainsaw?” He blinked in confusion at the blank screen before him, then held the controller up, glancing from one hand to the other and back. “Okay, makes sense. Now which one of you puppies is ‘left’ again?”
Suddenly a black gym bag slammed down on the table next to his leg, startling Max enough that he dropped the controller and let out a strangled squeal worthy of Justin. Looking up from the bag, he realized that Alex was standing over him, hands on her hips and smiling at him tightly in that ‘I mean business, so don’t even think about pissing me off’ way that she had.
“What’s this?” Max asked, unconsciously leaning away from her juuuuust a little bit.
“Your overnight bag,” Alex explained. “I packed it for you. You’re going to be staying at Alfred’s for the weekend. All weekend.”
Max cocked an eyebrow at her. “I am?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Alex nodded. “You guys set it up weeks ago. You’re going to camp out together in his back yard.”
“We are?” Max asked uncertainly.
“Oh yes,” Alex said, her tight, wide smile growing even wider and tighter. “You’ve really been looking forward to it. You’re going to spend the entire weekend reading comics and eating junk food and…not showering, and…I dunno, doing all that other crap that boys your age get off on. It’s gonna be sweet.”
“It is?” Max said with a grin, warming up to the idea. "But what about my shifts at the Sub Station?"
“Oh, don't worry about it.” Alex said, waving one hand dismissively. "We'll manage without you. I mean, let's be honest, we barely notice the difference when you are here."
Max's smile disappeared suddenly, as he narrowed his eyes at his sister. "What?"
"Aheh, I keed, I keed!" Alex chuckled, realizing she was in danger of losing him. She leaned forward to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Now listen, his mom’s expecting you, so you better get a move on. You don’t want to miss the first round of s’mores while they’re still hot off the campfire, do ya?”
“THERE’S GONNA BE S’MORES?!” Having heard all he needed to hear, Max leapt up off the couch, threw the bag’s shoulder strap over his head, and ran for the front door. It wasn’t until he was already halfway out into the hall before his brain caught up to him, bringing him to a sudden stop.
“Waaaaaaaiiiit a second,” he said, turning halfway around and wearing a puzzled expression. “Alfred moved away last month.”
Alex’s face fell. “He did?”
“Right after school let out, yeah,” Max nodded. “To South Dakota.”
“Aaaaaaand that’s where you’re going!” Alex said, her wide, tight grin returning. “Picturesque South Dakota! Only voted the very BEST state for end-of-summer backyard campouts, six years out of the last seven, hello?”
“But they don’t even have a backyard,” Max protested. “Alfred and his dad moved into his uncle’s two-bedroom apartment after his parents divorced. And his mom doesn’t even live with them anymore, so how is she supposed to be expecting me?”
“Mom, dad…backyard, rickety fire escape…tomato, tomahto, hahahaha!” Alex laughed, waving her hand as if to brush off such petty details as she stalked towards him. “The point is, you’re going to South Dakota, you’re going to have a great time, and you’re absolutely not coming back until Monday. Call us when you get there, say hi to Al for us, have a safe trip, BYE!”
And with that, Alex shoved him out the door and slammed it behind him. Dusting off her hands, she heaved a small sigh of exertion, then spun on her heel and headed for the kitchenette for a congratulatory bottle of water.
She stopped short as the front door squeaked open slowly behind her, and Max poked his head around it into the room.
“If I didn’t know better,” he said, glaring suspiciously at the back of Alex’s head, “I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”
“Damn, " Alex muttered under her breath. “Shoulda locked it!”
“Unfortunately for you,” Max continued as he strode back into the apartment and slammed the door behind him, “I’ve just remembered two things. The first, is that Alfred is deathly allergic to marshmallows. Which means no s’mores. Which means no Max, because Maxie only goes where the s’mores be. Comprende?"
"Uh huh," Alex said flatly. "And the second thing?"
Max beamed proudly at her, and made a show of looking over each shoulder before leaning towards her.
“I’ve been given a very important mission to complete," he stage-whispered.
“Mission?” Alex spun around and frowned at her little brother. “What mission? What are you talking about? From who?”
Max held up a hand as if to forestall any further questions. “I’m afraid that info’s on a need-to-know basis, sister. And you? Don’t. Need. To know.”
“Ah ha,” Alex said, holding his gaze for a beat. “So lemme guess, Mom?”
“Dad, actually.”
“I knew it,” Alex said sourly, snapping her fingers.
“Damn you and your devious interrogation techniques!” Max snarled, shaking his fist at her. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Max slipped the shoulder strap back over his head, and let his bag drop dramatically to the floor. “But that’s the last bit of information you’ll get from me, woman. From now on, it’s name, rank and serial number only.”
“So then what’s the deal, here, Max?” Alex pressed. “You’re supposed to spy on me? Report back to Dad about my every little movement over the next few days?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” Max said as he plopped back down on the couch and picked up the controller again. “Oh, but only if I can do it without arousing suspicion.”
Alex stared at him blankly for a moment. “Yeah, good job you're doing there, Sparky.”
“Thanks!” Max said brightly. “Say Alex, why were you trying to get rid of me, anyway?”
Before she could answer, a set of muffled footfalls sounded on the winding metal staircase above. They both looked up to see Justin descending towards them, dressed in plaid slippers and silk pajamas, a velvet robe and matching ascot. A pipe was clenched between his teeth. One hand slid along the winding metal rail next to him, while the other was tucked into the front pocket of his robe in what he probably thought was a sophisticated, debonair fashion.
Max's jaw dropped open audibly. Alex snorted as she struggled to contain her laughter.
“All right, Alex,” Justin said, oblivious, his voice sounding deeper and huskier than usual. He stared straight ahead as he took one measured step after another down the staircase. “For weeks, now, we’ve had to sneak around, hiding our feelings, repressing our urges…but now that we’re finally alone, at last…at long, long last…it’s time for us to cast aside these ridiculous pretenses and obsolete societal mores, and throw ourselves with reckless abandon into OHMIGOD MAX WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”
Alex and Max stared at Justin wide-eyed as the pipe slipped out from beneath his teeth and clattered to the stair below. He came down on it with his right foot, slipped backwards as it came out from under him, then tumbled ass-over-teakettle down the last few remaining stairs to land in a rumpled silk heap on the floor.
“Justin!” Alex cried, rushing towards him. Unhurt, Justin bounded up off the ground like an inflatable punching bag clown, and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Alex, you were supposed to get rid of him!” he hissed under his breath. “I heard the front door slam! Why is he still on this side of it?!”
“Dude, what the hell are you wearing?” Max asked, genuinely curious.
“Yes, Justin,” Alex said pointedly, shrugging his hands off her shoulders and tilting her head to one side in amusement.
“What the hell are you wearing? And do you think Hugh Hefner suspects his pajamas are missing?”
Max frowned at her in confusion. "Who’s Hugh Hefner?"
Justin blanched, looked from Alex to Max and back again, then grabbed Alex by the hand and dragged her bodily after him into the kitchenette. Only once there were safely behind the island did he drop her hand, point at Max, and hiss "Why is he why is he why is he?!”
“I tried to get rid of him, but he won’t budge!” Alex whined. “Dad's left him to spy on me."
Justin's complexion actually went a shade paler. "But this is the weekend--we were finally gonna--oh God, do you think he knows?"
"Max?!" Alex scoffed. "Please. He barely knows his own name."
"Dad, I mean! Dad!" Justin snarled. "Of course I don't mean Max! Don't be ridiculous!"
"Uh, guys?" Max said from the couch, holding up one finger. "Kitchen doesn't have walls, and I'm sitting right here..."
"Justin, get a grip," Alex snarked, ignoring him. "Do you really think Mom and Dad would even have left if they suspected...well, this?"
She reached up and tugged playfully on his ascot. Justin reared back and swatted her hand away in annoyance.
"Relax, would you?” Alex continued with a smile. “Clearly they just want to make sure I don't bail on you for the weekend, or whatever. Which, dude? Is becoming more and more of a possibility the longer you wear that ridiculous get-up. You are seriously gonna have to change, 'cause this whole ensemble you've got going on here is doing less than nothing for me..."
“Really.” Justin's eyes tightened a little at the corners as he smiled. "Because if it's making you want to get me out of it, then mission accomplished."
Alex cocked an eyebrow at this, impressed with him despite herself.
“Well, then..." she purred, taking a step towards him as she reached for the ascot again.
Justin grabbed her wrist and nodded towards the couch. "Max!" he hissed.
"Hmm?" Max looked up from where he'd become absorbed in the hint book. "Oh right, spy. Can you guys do the last five minutes over again? I forgot to pay attention."
Alex and Justin stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and pity.
"You know, I'm genuinely beginning to think we could actually do it in plain sight, right here on the counter in front of him, and he'd still be completely oblivious," Justin observed.
Max blinked at him. “Do what now?”
“Ew, don’t be gross!” Alex made a face as she swatted at Justin’s arm. “Jesus Christ, Justin…can’t you just, I dunno, charm Max into going to South Dakota, or something?”
“Uh, once again,” Max said, raising his hand as if to get their attention, and pointing to himself. “Still right here. No walls. Able to hear everything.”
Ignoring him, Justin frowned at Alex in confusion. “South Dako-? Why would I send him to-?“
“Away, Justin!” Alex said, stomping her foot impatiently. “Charm him away from here. I don’t particularly care where, just as long as he’s not here for the weekend!”
“But I thought that was what you were gonna do! Getting rid of him was your job!”
“And if I still actually had my wand to do it with, do you think we’d be standing here having this conversation?” Alex flung both arms in the direction of her younger brother. “So c’mon…whip it out, lay the smack down on him, do that twirly thing around your finger that you seem to think is oh-so-cool, and then we can finally get down to…y’know, stuff!”’
“Ah-HA! STUFF!” Max shouted, pointing at each of them in turn. “You’re planning to get down to STUFF! It’s all coming together. Your little web of intrigue is all starting to unravel. Damn, but I’m good at this.”
“Alex,” Justin said soberly (after another shared moment spent staring at Max with pity and disbelief), “I’m not going to charm Max to go to…I’m sorry, South Dakota, was it?”
“It’s not important, egghead!” Alex snapped. “Send him back to Mars for all I care! Just send him already!”
“I’m not sending him anywhere,” Justin said firmly, then visibly deflated beneath his silk pajamas with a heavy sigh. “I can’t.”
“Oh, holy rollerblading mother of God, why not?!”
“Yeah, why not?” Max said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’m curious, myself.”
His eyes darting from one sibling to the other and back, Justin shrugged his shoulders against his velvet robe, and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Well, you see…with great power comes great responsibility…”
“Sweet Jesus in a smoking birchbark canoe,” Alex groaned, dropping her head and pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. “You cannot be serious.”
“What?!” Justin protested, his voice cracking as it raised an octave. “You remember what happened when Professor Crumbs found out you turned Mom and Dad into guinea pigs to hide your report card from them! How do you think he’s going to react if he finds out I sent our little brother to South Dakota so we could-?”
“And how the hell is he supposed to find out?!” Alex cut him off, incredulous. “I’m sure as hell not gonna tell him! Are you?!”
“We agreed that we need to keep this on the down-low, Alex,” Justin said, in that condescending, too-patient-but-really-not-patient-at-all voice that he knew annoyed her. “Does it not strike you that charming a minor into crossing state lines all on his own might be a little high-profile?”
“Crossing state-? Would you stop being so literal and forget about South Dakota, already?! It was a figure of speech!”
“Uh, since when is ‘South Dakota’ a figure of speech?” Max chimed in from the couch.
“QUIET!!” Alex and Justin shouted over their shoulders at him in unison.
“I’m not doing it,” Justin said with an air of finality, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. “I’ve been looking forward to this weekend as much as you have, Alex. Probably moreso… but it’s not worth the risk of losing my powers if we’re found out.”
“Fine!” Alex growled. Without looking up, she thrust out a hand towards him, palm up. “Then give me your wand, and I’ll do it.”
“Oh, HELL no!” Justin recoiled from her as though her hand was diseased. “Are you crazy?! A crack Wiz-CSI team can tie the signature of an illegal spell to the wand that fired it for periods of up to twenty years! And I am SO not taking the fall for you.”
“Dammit Justin, would you stop being so goddamned paranoi-wow, twenty years? Really?”
Silent, Justin merely nodded in a sagelike manner. Alex grimaced, her mouth to one side, and turned her head to face the door. “Huh. So maybe Dad losing my wand at Grandma’s again wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, after all…”
“Oh, GOD!” Justin shouted, slapping one hand to his forehead. “He took it to GRANDMA’S?! But the…the TOMATOES…!”
Now it was Alex and Max who stared at their brother with twin expressions of disbelief, bordering on pity.
“Sooooo, let me get this straight,” Alex sighed. Twisting at the waist, she pointed over the island’s countertop to Max. “You refuse to leave the house all weekend unless explicitly charmed to do so.”
“Sorry,” Max shrugged. “Orders are orders. Dad’s expecting a full report on Monday night.”
“And you,” Alex continued, swiveling around to level her index finger at Justin, “refuse to explicitly charm him to leave us the hell alone, or allow me to use your wand to do same, because you are, as always, a big rule-abiding wuss.”
Flinching as though she’d slapped him, Justin pointedly avoided her gaze, and reached up to pull absently at the edge of his ascot. “I am. I mean, I do.”
“Great,” Alex deadpanned. Tilting her head slightly to one side, she fixed Justin with one of her patented too-tight smiles.
“Well, guess what I’ve just decided I’m refusing to do this weekend?”
Justin’s face fell. His glanced at Max, then turned his back to him and laid a hand on his sister’s arm. “Alex, c’mon…OK, I know it sucks that we can’t be alone like we planned, but we can still-“
“Oh, as IF!” Alex snapped, batting his hand away and taking a step back from him. “If the goddamned sanctity of your wand is really more important to you than-“
She broke off with a quick glance at Max.
“…than getting down to stuff…” Max supplied helpfully.
Alex blinked at him, then squared her shoulders and jut her chin out at Justin. “Have fun playing with your wand this weekend, Justin. Don’t worry, I won’t be going anywhere near it.”
“Alex…,” Justin said softly, reaching for her. With a growl, Alex dodged under his arm and stormed off, the heels of her boots clanking angrily on the metal staircase as she wound her way upstairs. Both Justin and Max looked up, their eyes tracing the path of her footsteps across the ceiling above them, and flinched when her bedroom door closed with a slam.
In the silence that followed in her wake, Justin exhaled slowly, then reached up to tug the ascot free from his neck. Max frowned at him.
“So no getting down, I take it?” he asked. “No stuff?”
“Probably not, no,” Justin admitted as he threw the ascot to the counter in disgust. “I don’t see a lot of ‘getting down’ or ‘stuff’ in my immediate future.”
“Awwwww man,” Max groaned. “Just when it was getting good, too. So much for an exciting weekend.”
Justin sighed heavily, then looked back up to the ceiling, at the spot where Alex’s footsteps had ended. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
iii.
Saturday was, in a word, awful. In two words, it was goddamned awful. In three words, it was-well, you get the picture.
Jerry hadn’t been wrong about Labor Day weekend. The Sub Station was the busiest that Max had ever seen it. And that was before the busload of Canadian tourists showed up, with their disconcerting “pleases” and “thank you very muches”, and their funny-colored money with ducks on it. It would have been hard enough to manage with all five Russos manning the place; with only the three of them, they were just barely keeping up. Max was bussing as fast as humanly possible without resorting to magic, Alex was waiting all eighteen tables at once, and Justin was making sammiches like a freakin’ mofo, yet they were still falling behind. How his siblings had planned to get along without him if they’d succeeded in sending him to Alfred’s for the weekend, Max couldn’t imagine. Especially since they apparently weren’t speaking to each other.
“Max, tell Justin I need a number 4 on whole wheat, no olives, relish and light mayo, pickles on the side, OK? That’s a good boy.”
“Alex? Alex! AL-! Arrgh, just tell Alex her order for table 6 is up, Max.”
“Dammit, Max! This was the order for table 6, not 16! And tell Justin I said pickles on the side and NO olives! Who the hell orders olives on the side?! Honestly!”
“Wait, what do you mean she wants a 16 with olives? We don’t HAVE a 16, Max!”
Well, whatever. There was a reason why Max was only supposed to bus tables. They were the older ones, they should know better.
The really weird thing, though? Was the not seeing them fight. Justin and Alex fought, like, all the time. They fought the way other people breathed: like if they ever stopped, they’d die. Watching them spend a whole day NOT fighting gave him the same sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he got when Mom and Dad did fight. Like something was inherently wrong with his world.
Eventually, after a double-shift for all of them, Justin finally ushered the last customers out the door and locked it behind them. Flipping the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, Justin let out a heavy sigh and dragged himself over to table 9, where he slumped down into a chair across from Max.
“One down, two to go,” he said, with a weak smile. “Hell of a day, huh guys?”
“You can say that again,” Max agreed, crossing his arms on the table and plopping his head down on them.
They both looked up at Alex expectantly, waiting for her to chime in. Scowling to herself, without looking up, she finished wiping down table 3, then flung her dishrag over her shoulder and stormed into the kitchen.
Max blinked after her. “Soooooo, she’s pissed.”
“Gee, y’think?” Justin deadpanned. “’Cause I really hadn’t noticed.”
“I’m not exactly clear on why she’s pissed, though,” Max said. “I mean, I get that you did something-that much is obvious-but I don’t get what, exactly.”
“It’s tough to explain, Max,” Justin sighed, scrubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “Alex and I have a….complicated…relationship.”
“Yeah, no duh,” Max snorted. “Say, what the hell were you guys gonna do if she’d sent me to South Dakota, anyway?”
Justin suddenly sat bolt upright, his complexion paling noticeably. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”
Max rolled his eyes at him. “I mean how were you gonna manage, dumbass? Today was crazy. You really think the two of you alone could have handled it?”
“Yeah, well…it would’ve been tough, but we could probably have figured out something, I’m sure,” Justin said with a smile.
Max cocked an eyebrow at him, then slowly reared back in his chair as a realization hit home. “Wait, are you…P-wording me?”
“I’m…sorry?” Justin asked, frowning in confusion.
“Ohmigod, you totally are!” Max shouted. “You were full-on P-wording me, right there!”
“Pee-wording?” Justin winced and shook his head. “Max, what the hell does that even mean?”
“You know, when you say something that sounds nice on the surface, but really you’re talking down to me ‘cause you actually think you’re better than me?”
Justin’s frown deepened, his eyes looking inward for a moment as he tried to work out what Max was trying to say. “Patronizing?” he said finally.
Max snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “That’s it. That’s the one.”
“What?” Justin said, chuckling nervously. “Noooooo!”
“Oh, you so were!” Max protested. “You think you and Alex would’ve done just fine without me. You think I did sweet eff all today, don’t you?”
“Hey, c’mon,” said Justin. “That’s not true. I know you did….stuff.”
“’Stuff?! ’I busted my ass today!” Max’s chair slid across the floor with a screech as he stood up suddenly. “And I didn’t do just my job, but half of both of yours, too!”
“I know, Max,” Justin said, patting the air with his hands. “I know.”
“That’s, like, two entire jobs I did today! Alex barely does one!”
“Hey, that’s not true,” Justin said, his face flushing as he leaned forward and jabbed a finger at Max. “Usually? OK, maybe. But not today. Even though she’s super pissed at both of us, she didn’t bail. She hung in right here with, and saw it through to the end. Hell, she probably worked harder than you and me, combined. So give her a little credit, OK?”
Max blinked at his brother, taken aback. “The hell?! Since when do you defend Alex?”
Justin stared at him for a long moment as the color faded from his cheeks, his shoulders slumped.
“Alex and I,” he repeated tiredly, “have a very complicated relationship…”
“Oh, screw you and your complicated relationship,” Max snarled, pushing his chair away from the table so hard that he knocked it to the floor. “I’m beat. I’m going to bed. Wake me up at eight so I can come down and get in the way of you and Saint Alex some more tomorrow, huh?”
“Max…” Justin sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m sorry. I know we couldn’t have done it without you. I didn’t mean to-“
But Max didn’t hear it. He was already up the stairs and halfway to his room before his brother had even finished the sentence. He slammed his door behind him, shoved the dirty laundry off his bed onto the floor, and flopped down onto the mattress, burying his face into his pillow. Sometime later-he wasn’t sure how long-there was a light tap at his door, followed by a muffled “Maxie? You OK?” from Alex, but he ignored it. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to either of them, right now.
The thing was, he thought as he lay there, he wasn’t exactly sure why. Or even who he was mad at, really. Sure, Justin had been a jerk for P-wording him, but it was hardly the first time he’d done it. He P-worded everybody, that was kind of Justin’s thing. Hell, the entire family-even Harper-spent most of the time talking over his head like he had no clue what was going on.
And OK, maybe they were right a good sixty percent of the time. And maybe he played along the other forty percent because it was just easier to coast through life when people thought you were clueless. Low expectations were easier to manage. It was one of the first things he’d learned from Alex, and he’d taken it to heart. He’d just taken her philosophy to a whole other level. Alex demonstrated just enough evil genius that everybody secretly thought she’d really amount to something if she just applied herself, straightened up and flew right. Max, they’d given up hope on entirely.
And that was how he wanted it, right? Because, really, who the hell was going to compete with Justin’s brilliance and Alex’s cunning? Can’t win, don’t try?
Eventually, still in his clothes and apron, he drifted off into a restless sleep, dreaming of Zeke and Harper, bound together at the ankle and running a desperate three-legged race through the Sub Station as they were chased by angry, fanged tomatoes, while Justin and Alex glared silently at each other over the front counter.
iv.
Max awoke suddenly, in the middle of the night. His entire body felt charged, electrified. Which could only mean one of two things: either he’d had that wet dream about Sonny Munroe and Tawni Hart making it with him in the hot tub again, or someone in the house had cast a spell. A quick check of his underpants confirmed the latter.
Sitting upright, Max tossed his covers aside, swung his legs over the side of his bed, and proceeded to wade through the piles of dirty laundry and other assorted crap covering his floor. He laid his hand on the doorknob and twisted it ever-so-gently to the right, endeavoring to open the door with nary a sound, so that he could sneak down the hall to Alex’s room, and-
And then suddenly he was back in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking to himself that whatever was going on in Alex’s room wasn’t really important, and that he should really go back to sleep and forget the whole thing. Yawning, he stretched his arms, closed his eyes and settled back into his pillow, already imagining the scandalized giggle that would escape Tawni Hart’s lips as Sonny Monroe accidentally-on-purpose snagged the tie of her barely-there bikini top-
“Waaaaaaaaaaiiiiit a minute!”
Max sat bolt upright in bed, and scowled across the room at his doorknob. He pictured himself getting up, opening the door, and storming down the hall to Alex’s room, where-
He found himself staring up at the ceiling again. Where had that brown stain come from, anyway? Oh right, the Nutella incident. Mmm, Nutella. He should go down to the kitchen right now and fix himself a Nutella sandwich, which would be much more interesting than anything that might be going on in Alex’s room…
“Uh-huh, just like I thought,” Max sighed as he sat back up and looked at his doorknob again. “Classic keep-away spell.”
OK, so clearly something was going on in Alex’s room that somebody didn’t want him to see. Which, mission-from-Dad or no mission-from-Dad, meant that he really, really wanted to see it. But how? Clearly, he wasn’t going to able to simply mosey on down to Alex’s room, and-
“Oh, goddammit,” Max groaned, as he found himself staring at the ceiling again, overcome with the urge to coat Sonny Monroe head-to-toe in Nutella, and lick it all off. (Because, hello? Two great tastes that taste great together? Um, yes please.)
OK, this was getting annoying. Somehow, he had to figure out a way to see what was going on you-know-where without him actually having to even think about going anywhere near you-know-where. If only there was a spell for that…
Wait, hold the phone. There was a spell for that, wasn’t there?
Sitting up and snatching his wand off his nightstand, knocking aside about a half-case’s worth of empty Mountain Dew cans in the process, Max pointed it at the photo of himself and his family from Puerto Rico (in their matching orange vacation outfits) that sat on his dresser, and struggled to remember a spell that Conscience had tried to teach him three or four months ago.
“Please, please, tell me now,” he said uncertainly. “Is there something I should know… uh…Duranium, Duranias?”
For a second, nothing happened, and Max was convinced he’d gotten the spell wrong. (Because, seriously, ’Duranium, Duranias’? Yeah, that couldn’t be right.) But then, as if the laws of physics and probability had simply shrugged and said ‘ sure, kid, whatever’, the image in the frame began to darken and swirl. Gone was the photo of Max and his family in terrible patterned polyester, replaced by a direct live feed from Alex’s bedroom. Where, apparently, Justin was dodging for dear life in the darkness as Alex snatched her digital alarm clock off her nightstand and hurled it at him.
“Get out!” Alex snarled at him, angrier than Max had ever seen her. Which was saying something.
“I’m sorry!” Justin said, holding his hands out before him. “I didn’t mean to-!”
“GET OUT!” Alex growled again, loud enough that Max heard it in stereo, both through the picture frame as well as reverberating down the hall. She grabbed hold of her lamp this time, and cocked her arm as if to throw it.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up!” Justin protested, even as he cringed. “I was hoping not to, actually!”
“Oh, so what?” Alex sneered, lowering the lamp slightly. “You were just gonna sneak in here and slip it to me while I was asleep? Is that it?!”
Max frowned at this. Wait, slip it to her? Oh man, he hoped she was just talking about Justin giving her a wet willie…
“What?! No! I’d never-!” Justin said, in that breathy, scandalized voice of his. And even to Max, he sounded phenomenally hurt. “Do you really think I’d-?”
Alex watched him for a moment, silently, then slumped her shoulders and set the lamp back down on her nightstand. “No,” she admitted quietly, then snorted. “You’re way too much of a goody two-shoes for that, aren’t you?”
Justin chuckled bitterly, and shook his head. “I can’t win with you, can I?”
“Never have, never will,” Alex said, matter-of-factly, lying back down and gathering her sheets around herself. “What are you doing here, Justin?”
Justin shrugged, almost imperceptibly. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“So? How’s that my problem?” Alex scoffed, rolling over onto her side, turning her back to him. “Go tug one out and leave me alone already, egghead. You know how. God knows, I’ve watched you do it often enough.”
Max’s eyebrows jumped so high on his forehead that they threatened to launch into orbit. Wow. OK, so they were definitely not talking about wet willies, anymore.
“That’s not why I’m here, Alex,” Justin said, his voice raw with emotion. “I just…I wanted to hold you. That’s all.”
Alex didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, as Justin stared at her helplessly, Max wondered if she’d actually fallen asleep again. But then, just as Justin’s shoulders slumped in defeat and it looked like he was about to turn around and leave the room, Alex sighed dramatically and reached behind her to lift up the corner of her covers.
“Get in here, already,” she growled, without turning to face him, “before I change my mind.”
Justin grinned in relief, then hurried to crawl into bed next to her, spooning his body into hers as she dropped the covers over him.
“This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven, egghead,” she said pointedly, although most of the heat had gone out of her voice.
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I know,” Justin said, as he nuzzled the back of her neck. “I’m frustrated, too.”
“Just not frustrated enough,” Alex scoffed bitterly.
“Alex, c’mon…that’s not fair, and you know it,” Justin sighed. “You know I’d do anything for you. There isn’t a law I wouldn’t break, no consequence I wouldn’t accept, if it meant being with you. But asking me to magically banish our little brother to fend for himself for three days, just so we can spend the weekend screwing like rabbits? That’s a bit frivolous, don’t you think?”
At this, Max’s jaw dropped so hard that he was certain they must have heard it hit the floor all the way down the hall. Holy crap, so that’s why they wanted to send him to South Dakota?!
“You didn’t have a problem with me doing the dirty work, though,” Alex pointed out, oblivious. And the fact that she wasn’t the least bit shocked by Justin’s pronouncement in the least was almost more shocking than the pronouncement itself.
“Well, no,” Justin admitted, the covers rising slightly as he shrugged his shoulders beneath them. “You have to admit, though: it is kind of what you’re good at.”
“Aaaaaaand we’re back to wanting to kick your ass out, again…” said Alex.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Justin said quickly, sounding a little panicked. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just…all this sneaking around we’ve been having to do, all the lies we’ve had to tell, all the rules we’re breaking…it doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does to you, Alex. If anything, it goes against my nature, and I’m still…adjusting, I guess.”
They lapsed into silence again for a moment, their breathing the only sound coming from the picture frame. Max stared at it in absolute shock, senses reeling, feeling sick to his stomach as the immensity of what he’d discovered began to sink in, threatening to turn his entire world upside down.
“I suppose it does kind of fly in the face of your whole, dorky ‘What would Captain Jim Bob Sherwood do?’ philosophy, doesn’t it?” Alex said finally.
“Uh, no shit!” Max muttered to himself.
“Just a tad, yeah,” Justin agreed with him flatly, even though he wasn’t aware of it. “For one thing, I’m pretty sure the Comics Code Authority tends to frown on this sort of thing.”
“I have absolutely no clue what that even means,” Alex said, shaking her head. Then, after a moment, she added: “I wasn’t going to charm him, y’know. Even if I’d had my wand. I was just planning to talk him into being somewhere else for the weekend. I’m not a complete sociopath, thank you very much.”
Max snorted at this and shook his head sharply at the way she managed to say that with a straight face while spooning in bed with their older brother. Because, dude, seriously…
“Wow, bonus points for your correct use of the word ‘sociopath’,” Justin said, impressed.
”Ugh, Justin…” Alex groaned impatiently.
“Look, if it’s really that important to you, I can always flash him to the Beekerman Jamboree,” Justin continued. “We’ll send a note with him for Harper, so she can cover. Max’ll be pissed when he wakes up there, sure, but at least we’d know where he was, and I think he’d probably have a good time in the long run, anyway.”
Max’s breath caught in his throat, as he reflexively tightened his grip around his wand, his mind racing to remember if he’d ever been taught a way to guard against being teleported against his will. It sounded like the kind of thing Dad would have covered, but…crap. For probably the first time in his life, he found himself wishing he paid closer attention during Wizard Lessons.
“No, it’s OK,” Alex sighed in resignation. “We really do need Max’s help with the Sub Station, anyway. There’s no way in hell we could have managed all that today without him.”
“True,” Justin agreed. “I hate to admit it, but it was probably wishful thinking to believe that we could.”
Loosening his hold on his wand, Max let out a small breath in a combination of relief and surprise. Huh. OK, so maybe Justin hadn’t been P-wording him, after all…
“Besides, I don’t wanna ruin Harper’s weekend, either,” Alex continued. “I honestly think the main reason she went in the first place was to get away from magical shenanigans for a few days…”
“Hello, what’s this?” Justin teased her. “Alex Russo, acting all responsible? Putting the needs of others ahead of her own? Who are you, strange lady, and what have you done with my baby sister-slash-girlfriend?”
“Gah!” Max said, actually wincing and sticking out his tongue at this. Because yeah, while he’d gotten there on his own, thanks, actually hearing Justin confirm it out loud? Eyyugh.
“Shut up, jackass. You’re not the only one operating outside your comfort zone, here,” Alex snapped, elbowing him in the ribs. “Though I can’t tell you how pissed I am that Harper and Zeke, of all people, are going to wind up getting laid more often this weekend than I am.”
“Ugh, that is really not something I want to think about,” Justin groaned, wincing as he pressed his forehead against Alex’s shoulder. “Seriously. Way to kill my boner.”
“Aw, dude…,” Max grimaced, wrenching his eyes shut against the sudden visual he really hadn’t needed. “No. Just…no.”
“Just as well,” Alex yawned, twisting around to look at him over her shoulder. “My ass is beat, and we need to be up again in just a few hours.”
“Yeah,” Justin groaned. “Stupid restaurant.”
“Stupid Canadian tourists,” Alex griped.
“Stupid Max,” they both added in the same breath. Then, laughing quietly, they both lifted their heads off their pillows, craned their necks, and pressed their lips together in a soft, chaste goodnight kiss…
And that, finally, was about as much as Max could stand. He grabbed the edge of the picture frame and slammed it down onto his nightstand, hard enough that he heard glass crunch beneath. Swinging his legs off his bed, he stormed furiously across his room, grabbed the knob and yanked it open. And this time he didn’t wind up back in bed, staring up at the brown Nutella stain on his ceiling, or fantasizing about all the terrible things he’d do to Sonny Monroe, given even half a chance.
Because whatever it was going on in Alex’s room at that particular moment? Yeah, definitely not something that he wanted any part of, thanks.
Part I | Part II
RATING/CONTENT: T/PG-13 (and only just) for references to consensual, slightly underage sibcest, and mild cursing. Established Jalex, from Max's POV.
WORD COUNT: Approx. 18K in two parts
DISCLAIMER: Would you believe that I don't own Wizards of Waverly Place or its characters? Shocking, I know. I also don't own Spider-Man, Bizarro World, Sonny With A Chance, or the state of South Dakota. Heck, even the Halloween Sorority Party Disaster series doesn't belong to me, and that isn't even a real thing! Man...!
SPOILERS: Incidental spoilage for Season 3 (up to about Episode 3.12, "Dude Looks Like Shakira") and the movie, but nothing major.
SUMMARY: Tired of always playing third wheel to Justin and Alex, and tasked with spying on them by a paranoid Jerry while their parents are away, Max inadvertantly uncovers a secret that's way, way bigger than he bargained for.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written as a companion piece to my last fic, Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger (where it fits in neatly between the last two chapters), but that mostly just matters to me. It's not necessary to have read that story to enjoy this one.
i.
“Ungh!” Jerry grunted, red-faced and out of breath as he struggled to navigate down the spiral staircase into the living room, while carrying the last of his wife’s bags.
“Jeez Theresa, what do you need all this stuff for? We’re only going to be gone for the weekend!” Stopping halfway, he set the bag down with a grunt, and leaned heavily on the railing, exhausted. “And why the hell do we have so many twisty stairs in this place, anyway?”
Panting heavily, trying to catch his breath, he looked up to see Max sitting on the edge of the couch, bobbing and weaving as he waved a video game controller in the air between him and the television, his shoulders hunched in deep concentration. (Well, in at least what passed for deep concentration where Max was concerned, anyway.)
“Hey Max, buddy?” Jerry called down to him. “You wanna come and give your old man a hand with this?”
“Can you give me a sec, Dad?” Max said over his shoulder. “I’m just trying to remember where I dropped the chainsaw.”
“Oh,” Jerry panted, wiping the sweat off his brow. He looked past Max at the TV and blinked. “Uh, Max? What’s that you’re playing?”
“Halloween Sorority Party Disaster 4.5,” Max replied. “It’s the videogame prequel to Halloween Sorority Party Disaster 5 that fills in all the plot holes between it and the fourth one. It’s essential to play if you’re going to understand anything that happens in Halloween Sorority Party Disaster 6 when it comes out in theatres this Christmas.”
“Ohhh-kay,” Jerry said hesitantly, stepping over the bag in front of him and coming the rest of the way down the stairs. “Is it supposed to look like that, though? ‘Cause from here it looks like the TV isn’t even on…”
“Well, of course the TV’s off,” Max said matter-of-factly, without taking his eyes off the blank screen. “I don’t have the game yet.”
Jerry blinked again. “You…don’t?”
“Duh, no!” Max scoffed. “It’s rated ‘M’ for mature. You have to be at least 18 to buy it. I’m only 15, remember?”
“Ah,” Jerry frowned, not quite sure where Max was going with this. “But then why--?”
“But what you don’t have to be 18 to buy is the hint book,” Max cut him off, grabbing the book off the couch next to him and holding up for Jerry to see. “Which I am now using to train myself in playing the game, so that when I finally do turn 18 and buy it, I’ll be able to beat it in no time at all, and finally learn the horrible secret behind the midget’s mask.”
“But…that’s not for three years, son,” Jerry pointed out.
“No worries, it’s all about the muscle memory,” Max said, glancing at his father over his shoulder. “Aren’t you the one who says you can still beat Donkey Kong with your eyes closed twenty years later?”
Jerry stared blankly at his son then heaved a heavy sigh. “Of all the ways you could have taken after me…”
“Oh, shoot! Died again!” Max grunted, throwing down his controller in disgust.
“How can you tell?”
Max cocked an eyebrow at him and gestured at the blank TV screen. “Hello? Midget? Meat cleaver? Blood spatters? It’s pretty self-evident, Dad. Good thing I saved at that last checkpoint.”
“Well, why don’t you…pause it…for now,” Jerry said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the staircase, “and give me a hand dragging your mom’s luggage down to the Sub Station. The cab will be here to get us any minute.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, Max,” Alex’s voice came from upstairs before he could answer. “I got it.”
And then, in a brilliant flash of purplish-yellow light, the bag Jerry had been struggling with magically appeared on the coffee table in front of them.
“ALEX!” Jerry shouted, then closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. “Alex, get down here!”
“What?!” Alex protested, the heels of her boots clanking on the stairs as she made her way down. “I’m just trying to help! That bag looked heavy, and the stairs are all twisty. Have you ever tried maneuvering down those things in three-inch heels? ‘Cause lemme tell ya, it ain’t easy.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, young lady, you’re grounded this weekend,” Jerry said. “Which means no dates, no boys, no parties, and most importantly, no magic. In fact, any activity at all which you might consider fun, you can just cross right off the list. The only thing I expect you to concern yourself with this weekend is helping Justin to run the Sub Station while we’re away, and catching up on your Wizard studies.”
Alex rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “OK, Dad.”
“Don’t talk back, Alex,” Jerry admonished, jabbing an index finger at her accusingly. “It’s high time that you learned that with great power comes great responsibility!”
“Oh God, not the Spider-Man speech again,” Max groaned.
“Uh, Dad?” Alex held out her hands in front of her. “Who’s got two thumbs and isn’t talking back? This girl right here. So, maybe, I don’t know, chill a little?”
Jerry blinked at her, then cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes as he replayed the last few moments of the conversation in his head. “That’s right, you didn’t talk back. And that worries me, deeply. Why didn’t you talk back, Alex?”
“D-a-a-ad!” Alex whined, stomping her heel in frustration. “Can’t you just believe that I’ve matured enough to accept my punishment like an adult? ‘Do the crime, do the time,’ all that jazz? I’ve grown up a lot since Puerto Rico, y’know.”
Jerry was silent for a moment as he held his pouting daughter’s gaze. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he held up one hand as if preparing to say something wise and heartfelt…then leaned forward and slapped his knee as both he and Max suddenly collapsed into helpless peals of laughter. Alex threw up her arms in exasperation, then crossed them below her breasts and shook her head angrily.
“Good one, honey,” Jerry chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “But seriously, hand over your wand, huh?”
“You really still don’t trust me?” Alex said. “After everything we’ve been through?”
“No offense, sweetheart, but it’s because of everything we’ve been through that I don’t trust you. Fool me once, yada yada yada, you know how it goes.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers at her in the universal gesture of ‘gimmie’. “C’mon, give it up.”
Alex glared at him a moment, nostrils flaring, then rolled her eyes and hunched over to lift her right knee to her her chest. Muttering under her breath, she fished her wand out of her boot, twirled it once around her finger, and pressed the handle into her father’s palm.
“Fine. Here.”
“Atta girl,” Jerry smiled as he tucked it into his back pocket. “You can have it back on Tuesday after your mother and I get back.”
“Wait, you’re going to bring it with you all the way to Grandma’s?” Alex asked in a panicked voice. “What if you lose it? What if you sit on it? What if she uses it as a stake for one of her tomato plants like she did that one time?”
Max whistled at the memory. “Man, those were some big tomatoes. Mean, too.”
“Relax, Alex,” Jerry sighed. “Nothing’s going to happen to your wand. I’ll keep it perfectly safe, I promise.”
“The last time you said that, I spent two weeks breaking in a new one, and Justin had nightmares about tomatoes with fangs for six months!” said Alex. “Dad, be reasonable! What if one of the boys gets into trouble while you’re gone, and I have to go rescue them, or something?”
“Pfft!” Max scoffed from the couch. “Like that ever happens.”
A slow grin spread across Jerry’s face. “See, now I know that keeping your wand is the right thing to do. Because you definitely want it for something, and I’ll be damned if it’s to look out for your brothers.”
Alex glared at him, then slumped her shoulders in defeat. “Yeah, that was a little far-fetched, wasn’t it?”
“Little bit. Points for trying, though.”
“Cab’s here!” Justin announced brightly as he entered through the front door. “Dad, Mom says to hurry up and get your tush downstairs with that last suitca-oh good, there it is.”
Whipping his wand out of his pocket, Justin twirled it in the air with a flourish and pointed it at the suitcase, which disappeared in a brilliant flash of purplish-yellow light. Justin grinned, nodded to himself in satisfaction, then started as he caught the glare that both his siblings and his father were giving him.
“What?” he protested. “The meter’s already running! That bag looked heavy, and the stairs are all twisty! And you know how prone my ankle is to turning…”
“Your mother and I expect you to set a much better example for your sister and your brother while we’re gone,” Jerry said patiently after another inward ten-count. “I swear, every day it seems like Alex rubs off on you just a little bit more. It’d be nice if it worked the other way for a change.”
“Heh,” Alex and Justin grinned, almost in unison.
Jerry frowned. “Why is that funny?”
Justin and Alex locked eyes guiltily for a second, before turning them back to their father.
“Uh, it’s funny,” Justin stammered, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck nonchalantly as he flushed a deep shade of red, “because of the, um…irony…that’s inherent…in the notion of-“
“The fastest way to kill a joke is to explain it, egghead,” Alex broke in quickly, chuckling as she threw her arms around Jerry and leaning her head against his shoulder. “Have a nice trip, Daddy!”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jerry said flatly, extricating himself from her grasp. He pointed at Justin. “You’re sure you’re OK with this? Labor Day weekend. Sub Station's gonna be busy…”
“Dad, please,” Justin said smugly. “I’ve got this.”
“We’ve got this,” Alex amended pointedly, then smiled at Jerry. “You and Mom just have a good time. Say hi to Grandma for us.”
“Alright,” Jerry said, although he sounded somewhat less than convinced. “Justin, remember: one pickle per sandwich, don’t go overboard with the black olives, and don’t forget to make the deposit. Alex, you listen to your brother, help out as much as you can, and for God’s sake, don’t let Harper offer free fashion advice to the customers. I swear, we lose more business that way…”
“Uh, Harper’s away at Zeke’s family reunion all weekend, Dad,” Justin reminded him. “Remember? The Big Beekerman Family Fun Jamboree in the Hamptons?”
“Snkt, jamboree!” Alex snickered, elbowing her brother in the ribs. “I don’t know which one of us is being punished more, me or Harper. Because, dude, if the rest of the family’s anything like Zeke, I’d almost rather be on house arrest…”
Justin scowled at her, indignant. “For your information, the Beekermans are delightful people, the Jamboree is the highlight of the late-summer social season, and I’m very disappointed to have to miss helping his grandmother defend our title as Three-Legged Race champions, three years running.”
"Three years hopping, you mean," Max grinned. "Get it? Because it's a three-legged race, and--"
“Wait, so Harper’s not picking up any shifts at the Sub Station?” Jerry cut him off, frowning from Alex to Justin, and back. “It’s just gonna be you guys, all weekend? I dunno, I’m beginning to have second thoughts about this. I mean, I know she’s a terrible at it and all, but if it’s between having her or Max wait tables…”
“Dad, it’ll be fine, honest,” Alex said, patting Jerry’s arm. “You know how responsible Justin is.”
“And Alex and I make a pretty good team when we have to,” Justin added. (And if Jerry didn’t know his kids better, he’d swear that a kind of amused, knowing look passed between them for a split second, like they were sharing some sort of inside joke.) “Seriously. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
This should have quelled any uneasiness Jerry had about leaving them alone for the weekend-after all, it was all true-but for some reason, it didn’t. If anything, it only served to feed the deep sense of foreboding that had been lingering in the back of his mind about it for almost as long as they’d planned it. If only he could put his finger on why...
His train of thought was broken by the sound of a car horn coming from the street below the terrace, followed by Theresa’s melodious voice screaming at him to get his ass downstairs, already.
“Hey Alex, it’s Cab 804 that’s taking them, by the way,” Justin said, gesturing to the door. “He’s asking for you.”
“Bert's here? Oh, sweet!” Alex beamed. “C’mon, Daddy, let’s go say hi to him before you go!”
“Mmm-hmm,” Jerry murmured. But he didn’t follow them as they went bounding down the stairs, one after the other, without so much as a shove or an elbow to the ribs. Looking for all the world like two people who were content, even happy, to be in one another’s presence.
And then Jerry snapped his fingers, as the source of his vague sense of foreboding suddenly became clear to him: Alex and Justin were being nice to each other. Way, way too nice. Pleasant, even. Which meant that something was definitely, positively up. Because, seriously.
“What do you want me to do, Dad?”
“Huh?” Jerry asked, startled. He turned halfway round, and was surprised to see Max sitting on the couch, grinning eagerly up at him. To be perfectly honest, he’d completely forgotten his youngest was even there.
“What do you want me to do?” Max repeated. “You gave jobs to Justin and Alex. So what’s my job?”
Despite himself, Jerry found himself hesitating. “Uh…y’know…the usual. Work your shifts at the Sub Station, keep on top of your wizard homework…um…and try not to break the lamp? Oh, and keep working on that video game thing! It looked like you were really getting the hang of it!”
“Oh, c’mon Dad!” Max half-sighed, half-pleaded as he pushed himself up off the couch. “You’re letting Justin run the Station all weekend, and even Alex you’re trusting a little. Even though, y’know…wow."
“Yeah…” Jerry admitted, a little more quickly than he would have liked.
“It’s just that it always feels like it’s all about them all the time,” Max continued, despondent. “They always get to run the show, and I’m just kind of…shoved in around the edges, kinda. Sometimes I wonder why I’m even around!”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Jerry frowned, laying a hand on Max’s shoulder. “You’re not just shoved in around the edges. You know you mean as much to me and your mom as Justin and Alex do.”
“Then give me something to do!” Max exclaimed. “Give me a job that only I can do, that you wouldn’t trust Alex or Justin with.”
Jerry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, appraising his youngest son. On the one hand, Max was…well, Max. But on the other, the boy did have a point. The Russo family did tend to orbit around Planet Jalex, more often than not. And there was always that old saw about needing to be trusted in order to prove oneself trustworthy…
“Alright, Max,” Jerry nodded, more to himself than to his son. “There is actually something you can do for me. You see, my Spidey Sense is tingling.”
“And again with the Spider-Man speech…” Max said flatly as he turned away.
“No wait, listen,” Jerry said, grabbing Max’s shoulder firmly. “What I mean is that I suspect your brother and your sister may be in cahoots.”
Max stared up at him blankly.
“Working together,” Jerry said by way of explanation. “As in the two of them are up to something no good. I know how unlikely that sounds, but they’ve been far too nice to each other lately for there to be any other explanation.”
Max nodded and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I have noticed a drop-off in the usual cycle of wedgies, wet willies and overall snarkiness the past few weeks, but I thought it was just me.”
“They also seem to be hugging a lot more, lately," Jerry observed. “For uncomfortably long periods of time, too.”
“No, they’ve always done that,” Max said, waving one hand dismissively.
“Oh,” Jerry frowned, nonplussed. “Uh...anyway, it’s possible that Alex has either a) blackmailed Justin, b) put a charm on him so he’ll go along with whatever she’s up to, or c) just duplicated him outright and hidden the real Justin away somewhere where he can’t interfere.”
“Or d),” Max interjected, holding up one finger, “something recently happened between them that gave them a deeper appreciation for one another and made them realize just how important their relationship is.”
Jerry considered this for a moment. “Yeah, I’m more inclined to go with my theory.”
“Me too, me too,” Max nodded. He grinned eagerly. “So you want me to get to the bottom of it?”
“Without arousing their suspicions if you can, yes,” Jerry said. “Now remember, you’re just a scout. Don’t engage the enemy, just observe and report. Whatever you find out, we’ll deal it with on Monday night when your mother and I get back. Understand?”
“Yes sir!” Max said, snapping off a jaunty salute.
“Alright, then. One more thing.” Jerry reached into his back pocket, then handed Alex’s wand to Max. “On the off chance that I’m wrong-or even worse, if I’m right-Alex makes a good point that it could be dangerous to leave her wandless over the weekend. I want you to stash this somewhere she can’t find it-“
“Right on,” Max said. “I’ll hide it in my room.”
“-but where you can get to it easily if she needs it in an emergency,” Jerry finished.
“Oh,” Max grimaced, thinking twice. “So somewhere in the lair, I guess?”
“Wherever you think is best,” Jerry smiled, patting Max on the shoulder. Out on the street, Bert the Cab honked his horn again, which was followed closely by a string of Spanish expletives, causing Jerry to wince.
“I gotta get going, son,” Jerry said. “Can I trust you with this?”
“You bet, Dad,” Max nodded, all smiles. “Whatever it is Justin and Alex are hiding, you’ll know it by Monday.”
ii.
Twenty minutes later, having bade his parents goodbye, hidden his sister’s wand, and forgotten entirely about his ‘mission’, Max was back on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He fiddled with the controller and frowned as he read aloud softly from the hint guide that lay open on the cushion next to him.
“Right, so I head four hallways north of the pillow fight room, stop to pick up the rubber chicken with the pulley in the middle, and turn left at second intersection. Then I turn right at the next one, fifty feet after that, kick the wolfman in the nards when he leaps out at me, then jump over him and head straight for the next checkpoint…which is where I should have dropped the chainsaw?” He blinked in confusion at the blank screen before him, then held the controller up, glancing from one hand to the other and back. “Okay, makes sense. Now which one of you puppies is ‘left’ again?”
Suddenly a black gym bag slammed down on the table next to his leg, startling Max enough that he dropped the controller and let out a strangled squeal worthy of Justin. Looking up from the bag, he realized that Alex was standing over him, hands on her hips and smiling at him tightly in that ‘I mean business, so don’t even think about pissing me off’ way that she had.
“What’s this?” Max asked, unconsciously leaning away from her juuuuust a little bit.
“Your overnight bag,” Alex explained. “I packed it for you. You’re going to be staying at Alfred’s for the weekend. All weekend.”
Max cocked an eyebrow at her. “I am?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Alex nodded. “You guys set it up weeks ago. You’re going to camp out together in his back yard.”
“We are?” Max asked uncertainly.
“Oh yes,” Alex said, her tight, wide smile growing even wider and tighter. “You’ve really been looking forward to it. You’re going to spend the entire weekend reading comics and eating junk food and…not showering, and…I dunno, doing all that other crap that boys your age get off on. It’s gonna be sweet.”
“It is?” Max said with a grin, warming up to the idea. "But what about my shifts at the Sub Station?"
“Oh, don't worry about it.” Alex said, waving one hand dismissively. "We'll manage without you. I mean, let's be honest, we barely notice the difference when you are here."
Max's smile disappeared suddenly, as he narrowed his eyes at his sister. "What?"
"Aheh, I keed, I keed!" Alex chuckled, realizing she was in danger of losing him. She leaned forward to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Now listen, his mom’s expecting you, so you better get a move on. You don’t want to miss the first round of s’mores while they’re still hot off the campfire, do ya?”
“THERE’S GONNA BE S’MORES?!” Having heard all he needed to hear, Max leapt up off the couch, threw the bag’s shoulder strap over his head, and ran for the front door. It wasn’t until he was already halfway out into the hall before his brain caught up to him, bringing him to a sudden stop.
“Waaaaaaaiiiit a second,” he said, turning halfway around and wearing a puzzled expression. “Alfred moved away last month.”
Alex’s face fell. “He did?”
“Right after school let out, yeah,” Max nodded. “To South Dakota.”
“Aaaaaaand that’s where you’re going!” Alex said, her wide, tight grin returning. “Picturesque South Dakota! Only voted the very BEST state for end-of-summer backyard campouts, six years out of the last seven, hello?”
“But they don’t even have a backyard,” Max protested. “Alfred and his dad moved into his uncle’s two-bedroom apartment after his parents divorced. And his mom doesn’t even live with them anymore, so how is she supposed to be expecting me?”
“Mom, dad…backyard, rickety fire escape…tomato, tomahto, hahahaha!” Alex laughed, waving her hand as if to brush off such petty details as she stalked towards him. “The point is, you’re going to South Dakota, you’re going to have a great time, and you’re absolutely not coming back until Monday. Call us when you get there, say hi to Al for us, have a safe trip, BYE!”
And with that, Alex shoved him out the door and slammed it behind him. Dusting off her hands, she heaved a small sigh of exertion, then spun on her heel and headed for the kitchenette for a congratulatory bottle of water.
She stopped short as the front door squeaked open slowly behind her, and Max poked his head around it into the room.
“If I didn’t know better,” he said, glaring suspiciously at the back of Alex’s head, “I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”
“Damn, " Alex muttered under her breath. “Shoulda locked it!”
“Unfortunately for you,” Max continued as he strode back into the apartment and slammed the door behind him, “I’ve just remembered two things. The first, is that Alfred is deathly allergic to marshmallows. Which means no s’mores. Which means no Max, because Maxie only goes where the s’mores be. Comprende?"
"Uh huh," Alex said flatly. "And the second thing?"
Max beamed proudly at her, and made a show of looking over each shoulder before leaning towards her.
“I’ve been given a very important mission to complete," he stage-whispered.
“Mission?” Alex spun around and frowned at her little brother. “What mission? What are you talking about? From who?”
Max held up a hand as if to forestall any further questions. “I’m afraid that info’s on a need-to-know basis, sister. And you? Don’t. Need. To know.”
“Ah ha,” Alex said, holding his gaze for a beat. “So lemme guess, Mom?”
“Dad, actually.”
“I knew it,” Alex said sourly, snapping her fingers.
“Damn you and your devious interrogation techniques!” Max snarled, shaking his fist at her. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Max slipped the shoulder strap back over his head, and let his bag drop dramatically to the floor. “But that’s the last bit of information you’ll get from me, woman. From now on, it’s name, rank and serial number only.”
“So then what’s the deal, here, Max?” Alex pressed. “You’re supposed to spy on me? Report back to Dad about my every little movement over the next few days?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” Max said as he plopped back down on the couch and picked up the controller again. “Oh, but only if I can do it without arousing suspicion.”
Alex stared at him blankly for a moment. “Yeah, good job you're doing there, Sparky.”
“Thanks!” Max said brightly. “Say Alex, why were you trying to get rid of me, anyway?”
Before she could answer, a set of muffled footfalls sounded on the winding metal staircase above. They both looked up to see Justin descending towards them, dressed in plaid slippers and silk pajamas, a velvet robe and matching ascot. A pipe was clenched between his teeth. One hand slid along the winding metal rail next to him, while the other was tucked into the front pocket of his robe in what he probably thought was a sophisticated, debonair fashion.
Max's jaw dropped open audibly. Alex snorted as she struggled to contain her laughter.
“All right, Alex,” Justin said, oblivious, his voice sounding deeper and huskier than usual. He stared straight ahead as he took one measured step after another down the staircase. “For weeks, now, we’ve had to sneak around, hiding our feelings, repressing our urges…but now that we’re finally alone, at last…at long, long last…it’s time for us to cast aside these ridiculous pretenses and obsolete societal mores, and throw ourselves with reckless abandon into OHMIGOD MAX WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”
Alex and Max stared at Justin wide-eyed as the pipe slipped out from beneath his teeth and clattered to the stair below. He came down on it with his right foot, slipped backwards as it came out from under him, then tumbled ass-over-teakettle down the last few remaining stairs to land in a rumpled silk heap on the floor.
“Justin!” Alex cried, rushing towards him. Unhurt, Justin bounded up off the ground like an inflatable punching bag clown, and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Alex, you were supposed to get rid of him!” he hissed under his breath. “I heard the front door slam! Why is he still on this side of it?!”
“Dude, what the hell are you wearing?” Max asked, genuinely curious.
“Yes, Justin,” Alex said pointedly, shrugging his hands off her shoulders and tilting her head to one side in amusement.
“What the hell are you wearing? And do you think Hugh Hefner suspects his pajamas are missing?”
Max frowned at her in confusion. "Who’s Hugh Hefner?"
Justin blanched, looked from Alex to Max and back again, then grabbed Alex by the hand and dragged her bodily after him into the kitchenette. Only once there were safely behind the island did he drop her hand, point at Max, and hiss "Why is he why is he why is he?!”
“I tried to get rid of him, but he won’t budge!” Alex whined. “Dad's left him to spy on me."
Justin's complexion actually went a shade paler. "But this is the weekend--we were finally gonna--oh God, do you think he knows?"
"Max?!" Alex scoffed. "Please. He barely knows his own name."
"Dad, I mean! Dad!" Justin snarled. "Of course I don't mean Max! Don't be ridiculous!"
"Uh, guys?" Max said from the couch, holding up one finger. "Kitchen doesn't have walls, and I'm sitting right here..."
"Justin, get a grip," Alex snarked, ignoring him. "Do you really think Mom and Dad would even have left if they suspected...well, this?"
She reached up and tugged playfully on his ascot. Justin reared back and swatted her hand away in annoyance.
"Relax, would you?” Alex continued with a smile. “Clearly they just want to make sure I don't bail on you for the weekend, or whatever. Which, dude? Is becoming more and more of a possibility the longer you wear that ridiculous get-up. You are seriously gonna have to change, 'cause this whole ensemble you've got going on here is doing less than nothing for me..."
“Really.” Justin's eyes tightened a little at the corners as he smiled. "Because if it's making you want to get me out of it, then mission accomplished."
Alex cocked an eyebrow at this, impressed with him despite herself.
“Well, then..." she purred, taking a step towards him as she reached for the ascot again.
Justin grabbed her wrist and nodded towards the couch. "Max!" he hissed.
"Hmm?" Max looked up from where he'd become absorbed in the hint book. "Oh right, spy. Can you guys do the last five minutes over again? I forgot to pay attention."
Alex and Justin stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and pity.
"You know, I'm genuinely beginning to think we could actually do it in plain sight, right here on the counter in front of him, and he'd still be completely oblivious," Justin observed.
Max blinked at him. “Do what now?”
“Ew, don’t be gross!” Alex made a face as she swatted at Justin’s arm. “Jesus Christ, Justin…can’t you just, I dunno, charm Max into going to South Dakota, or something?”
“Uh, once again,” Max said, raising his hand as if to get their attention, and pointing to himself. “Still right here. No walls. Able to hear everything.”
Ignoring him, Justin frowned at Alex in confusion. “South Dako-? Why would I send him to-?“
“Away, Justin!” Alex said, stomping her foot impatiently. “Charm him away from here. I don’t particularly care where, just as long as he’s not here for the weekend!”
“But I thought that was what you were gonna do! Getting rid of him was your job!”
“And if I still actually had my wand to do it with, do you think we’d be standing here having this conversation?” Alex flung both arms in the direction of her younger brother. “So c’mon…whip it out, lay the smack down on him, do that twirly thing around your finger that you seem to think is oh-so-cool, and then we can finally get down to…y’know, stuff!”’
“Ah-HA! STUFF!” Max shouted, pointing at each of them in turn. “You’re planning to get down to STUFF! It’s all coming together. Your little web of intrigue is all starting to unravel. Damn, but I’m good at this.”
“Alex,” Justin said soberly (after another shared moment spent staring at Max with pity and disbelief), “I’m not going to charm Max to go to…I’m sorry, South Dakota, was it?”
“It’s not important, egghead!” Alex snapped. “Send him back to Mars for all I care! Just send him already!”
“I’m not sending him anywhere,” Justin said firmly, then visibly deflated beneath his silk pajamas with a heavy sigh. “I can’t.”
“Oh, holy rollerblading mother of God, why not?!”
“Yeah, why not?” Max said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’m curious, myself.”
His eyes darting from one sibling to the other and back, Justin shrugged his shoulders against his velvet robe, and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Well, you see…with great power comes great responsibility…”
“Sweet Jesus in a smoking birchbark canoe,” Alex groaned, dropping her head and pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. “You cannot be serious.”
“What?!” Justin protested, his voice cracking as it raised an octave. “You remember what happened when Professor Crumbs found out you turned Mom and Dad into guinea pigs to hide your report card from them! How do you think he’s going to react if he finds out I sent our little brother to South Dakota so we could-?”
“And how the hell is he supposed to find out?!” Alex cut him off, incredulous. “I’m sure as hell not gonna tell him! Are you?!”
“We agreed that we need to keep this on the down-low, Alex,” Justin said, in that condescending, too-patient-but-really-not-patient-at-all voice that he knew annoyed her. “Does it not strike you that charming a minor into crossing state lines all on his own might be a little high-profile?”
“Crossing state-? Would you stop being so literal and forget about South Dakota, already?! It was a figure of speech!”
“Uh, since when is ‘South Dakota’ a figure of speech?” Max chimed in from the couch.
“QUIET!!” Alex and Justin shouted over their shoulders at him in unison.
“I’m not doing it,” Justin said with an air of finality, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. “I’ve been looking forward to this weekend as much as you have, Alex. Probably moreso… but it’s not worth the risk of losing my powers if we’re found out.”
“Fine!” Alex growled. Without looking up, she thrust out a hand towards him, palm up. “Then give me your wand, and I’ll do it.”
“Oh, HELL no!” Justin recoiled from her as though her hand was diseased. “Are you crazy?! A crack Wiz-CSI team can tie the signature of an illegal spell to the wand that fired it for periods of up to twenty years! And I am SO not taking the fall for you.”
“Dammit Justin, would you stop being so goddamned paranoi-wow, twenty years? Really?”
Silent, Justin merely nodded in a sagelike manner. Alex grimaced, her mouth to one side, and turned her head to face the door. “Huh. So maybe Dad losing my wand at Grandma’s again wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, after all…”
“Oh, GOD!” Justin shouted, slapping one hand to his forehead. “He took it to GRANDMA’S?! But the…the TOMATOES…!”
Now it was Alex and Max who stared at their brother with twin expressions of disbelief, bordering on pity.
“Sooooo, let me get this straight,” Alex sighed. Twisting at the waist, she pointed over the island’s countertop to Max. “You refuse to leave the house all weekend unless explicitly charmed to do so.”
“Sorry,” Max shrugged. “Orders are orders. Dad’s expecting a full report on Monday night.”
“And you,” Alex continued, swiveling around to level her index finger at Justin, “refuse to explicitly charm him to leave us the hell alone, or allow me to use your wand to do same, because you are, as always, a big rule-abiding wuss.”
Flinching as though she’d slapped him, Justin pointedly avoided her gaze, and reached up to pull absently at the edge of his ascot. “I am. I mean, I do.”
“Great,” Alex deadpanned. Tilting her head slightly to one side, she fixed Justin with one of her patented too-tight smiles.
“Well, guess what I’ve just decided I’m refusing to do this weekend?”
Justin’s face fell. His glanced at Max, then turned his back to him and laid a hand on his sister’s arm. “Alex, c’mon…OK, I know it sucks that we can’t be alone like we planned, but we can still-“
“Oh, as IF!” Alex snapped, batting his hand away and taking a step back from him. “If the goddamned sanctity of your wand is really more important to you than-“
She broke off with a quick glance at Max.
“…than getting down to stuff…” Max supplied helpfully.
Alex blinked at him, then squared her shoulders and jut her chin out at Justin. “Have fun playing with your wand this weekend, Justin. Don’t worry, I won’t be going anywhere near it.”
“Alex…,” Justin said softly, reaching for her. With a growl, Alex dodged under his arm and stormed off, the heels of her boots clanking angrily on the metal staircase as she wound her way upstairs. Both Justin and Max looked up, their eyes tracing the path of her footsteps across the ceiling above them, and flinched when her bedroom door closed with a slam.
In the silence that followed in her wake, Justin exhaled slowly, then reached up to tug the ascot free from his neck. Max frowned at him.
“So no getting down, I take it?” he asked. “No stuff?”
“Probably not, no,” Justin admitted as he threw the ascot to the counter in disgust. “I don’t see a lot of ‘getting down’ or ‘stuff’ in my immediate future.”
“Awwwww man,” Max groaned. “Just when it was getting good, too. So much for an exciting weekend.”
Justin sighed heavily, then looked back up to the ceiling, at the spot where Alex’s footsteps had ended. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
iii.
Saturday was, in a word, awful. In two words, it was goddamned awful. In three words, it was-well, you get the picture.
Jerry hadn’t been wrong about Labor Day weekend. The Sub Station was the busiest that Max had ever seen it. And that was before the busload of Canadian tourists showed up, with their disconcerting “pleases” and “thank you very muches”, and their funny-colored money with ducks on it. It would have been hard enough to manage with all five Russos manning the place; with only the three of them, they were just barely keeping up. Max was bussing as fast as humanly possible without resorting to magic, Alex was waiting all eighteen tables at once, and Justin was making sammiches like a freakin’ mofo, yet they were still falling behind. How his siblings had planned to get along without him if they’d succeeded in sending him to Alfred’s for the weekend, Max couldn’t imagine. Especially since they apparently weren’t speaking to each other.
“Max, tell Justin I need a number 4 on whole wheat, no olives, relish and light mayo, pickles on the side, OK? That’s a good boy.”
“Alex? Alex! AL-! Arrgh, just tell Alex her order for table 6 is up, Max.”
“Dammit, Max! This was the order for table 6, not 16! And tell Justin I said pickles on the side and NO olives! Who the hell orders olives on the side?! Honestly!”
“Wait, what do you mean she wants a 16 with olives? We don’t HAVE a 16, Max!”
Well, whatever. There was a reason why Max was only supposed to bus tables. They were the older ones, they should know better.
The really weird thing, though? Was the not seeing them fight. Justin and Alex fought, like, all the time. They fought the way other people breathed: like if they ever stopped, they’d die. Watching them spend a whole day NOT fighting gave him the same sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he got when Mom and Dad did fight. Like something was inherently wrong with his world.
Eventually, after a double-shift for all of them, Justin finally ushered the last customers out the door and locked it behind them. Flipping the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, Justin let out a heavy sigh and dragged himself over to table 9, where he slumped down into a chair across from Max.
“One down, two to go,” he said, with a weak smile. “Hell of a day, huh guys?”
“You can say that again,” Max agreed, crossing his arms on the table and plopping his head down on them.
They both looked up at Alex expectantly, waiting for her to chime in. Scowling to herself, without looking up, she finished wiping down table 3, then flung her dishrag over her shoulder and stormed into the kitchen.
Max blinked after her. “Soooooo, she’s pissed.”
“Gee, y’think?” Justin deadpanned. “’Cause I really hadn’t noticed.”
“I’m not exactly clear on why she’s pissed, though,” Max said. “I mean, I get that you did something-that much is obvious-but I don’t get what, exactly.”
“It’s tough to explain, Max,” Justin sighed, scrubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “Alex and I have a….complicated…relationship.”
“Yeah, no duh,” Max snorted. “Say, what the hell were you guys gonna do if she’d sent me to South Dakota, anyway?”
Justin suddenly sat bolt upright, his complexion paling noticeably. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”
Max rolled his eyes at him. “I mean how were you gonna manage, dumbass? Today was crazy. You really think the two of you alone could have handled it?”
“Yeah, well…it would’ve been tough, but we could probably have figured out something, I’m sure,” Justin said with a smile.
Max cocked an eyebrow at him, then slowly reared back in his chair as a realization hit home. “Wait, are you…P-wording me?”
“I’m…sorry?” Justin asked, frowning in confusion.
“Ohmigod, you totally are!” Max shouted. “You were full-on P-wording me, right there!”
“Pee-wording?” Justin winced and shook his head. “Max, what the hell does that even mean?”
“You know, when you say something that sounds nice on the surface, but really you’re talking down to me ‘cause you actually think you’re better than me?”
Justin’s frown deepened, his eyes looking inward for a moment as he tried to work out what Max was trying to say. “Patronizing?” he said finally.
Max snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “That’s it. That’s the one.”
“What?” Justin said, chuckling nervously. “Noooooo!”
“Oh, you so were!” Max protested. “You think you and Alex would’ve done just fine without me. You think I did sweet eff all today, don’t you?”
“Hey, c’mon,” said Justin. “That’s not true. I know you did….stuff.”
“’Stuff?! ’I busted my ass today!” Max’s chair slid across the floor with a screech as he stood up suddenly. “And I didn’t do just my job, but half of both of yours, too!”
“I know, Max,” Justin said, patting the air with his hands. “I know.”
“That’s, like, two entire jobs I did today! Alex barely does one!”
“Hey, that’s not true,” Justin said, his face flushing as he leaned forward and jabbed a finger at Max. “Usually? OK, maybe. But not today. Even though she’s super pissed at both of us, she didn’t bail. She hung in right here with, and saw it through to the end. Hell, she probably worked harder than you and me, combined. So give her a little credit, OK?”
Max blinked at his brother, taken aback. “The hell?! Since when do you defend Alex?”
Justin stared at him for a long moment as the color faded from his cheeks, his shoulders slumped.
“Alex and I,” he repeated tiredly, “have a very complicated relationship…”
“Oh, screw you and your complicated relationship,” Max snarled, pushing his chair away from the table so hard that he knocked it to the floor. “I’m beat. I’m going to bed. Wake me up at eight so I can come down and get in the way of you and Saint Alex some more tomorrow, huh?”
“Max…” Justin sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m sorry. I know we couldn’t have done it without you. I didn’t mean to-“
But Max didn’t hear it. He was already up the stairs and halfway to his room before his brother had even finished the sentence. He slammed his door behind him, shoved the dirty laundry off his bed onto the floor, and flopped down onto the mattress, burying his face into his pillow. Sometime later-he wasn’t sure how long-there was a light tap at his door, followed by a muffled “Maxie? You OK?” from Alex, but he ignored it. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to either of them, right now.
The thing was, he thought as he lay there, he wasn’t exactly sure why. Or even who he was mad at, really. Sure, Justin had been a jerk for P-wording him, but it was hardly the first time he’d done it. He P-worded everybody, that was kind of Justin’s thing. Hell, the entire family-even Harper-spent most of the time talking over his head like he had no clue what was going on.
And OK, maybe they were right a good sixty percent of the time. And maybe he played along the other forty percent because it was just easier to coast through life when people thought you were clueless. Low expectations were easier to manage. It was one of the first things he’d learned from Alex, and he’d taken it to heart. He’d just taken her philosophy to a whole other level. Alex demonstrated just enough evil genius that everybody secretly thought she’d really amount to something if she just applied herself, straightened up and flew right. Max, they’d given up hope on entirely.
And that was how he wanted it, right? Because, really, who the hell was going to compete with Justin’s brilliance and Alex’s cunning? Can’t win, don’t try?
Eventually, still in his clothes and apron, he drifted off into a restless sleep, dreaming of Zeke and Harper, bound together at the ankle and running a desperate three-legged race through the Sub Station as they were chased by angry, fanged tomatoes, while Justin and Alex glared silently at each other over the front counter.
iv.
Max awoke suddenly, in the middle of the night. His entire body felt charged, electrified. Which could only mean one of two things: either he’d had that wet dream about Sonny Munroe and Tawni Hart making it with him in the hot tub again, or someone in the house had cast a spell. A quick check of his underpants confirmed the latter.
Sitting upright, Max tossed his covers aside, swung his legs over the side of his bed, and proceeded to wade through the piles of dirty laundry and other assorted crap covering his floor. He laid his hand on the doorknob and twisted it ever-so-gently to the right, endeavoring to open the door with nary a sound, so that he could sneak down the hall to Alex’s room, and-
And then suddenly he was back in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking to himself that whatever was going on in Alex’s room wasn’t really important, and that he should really go back to sleep and forget the whole thing. Yawning, he stretched his arms, closed his eyes and settled back into his pillow, already imagining the scandalized giggle that would escape Tawni Hart’s lips as Sonny Monroe accidentally-on-purpose snagged the tie of her barely-there bikini top-
“Waaaaaaaaaaiiiiit a minute!”
Max sat bolt upright in bed, and scowled across the room at his doorknob. He pictured himself getting up, opening the door, and storming down the hall to Alex’s room, where-
He found himself staring up at the ceiling again. Where had that brown stain come from, anyway? Oh right, the Nutella incident. Mmm, Nutella. He should go down to the kitchen right now and fix himself a Nutella sandwich, which would be much more interesting than anything that might be going on in Alex’s room…
“Uh-huh, just like I thought,” Max sighed as he sat back up and looked at his doorknob again. “Classic keep-away spell.”
OK, so clearly something was going on in Alex’s room that somebody didn’t want him to see. Which, mission-from-Dad or no mission-from-Dad, meant that he really, really wanted to see it. But how? Clearly, he wasn’t going to able to simply mosey on down to Alex’s room, and-
“Oh, goddammit,” Max groaned, as he found himself staring at the ceiling again, overcome with the urge to coat Sonny Monroe head-to-toe in Nutella, and lick it all off. (Because, hello? Two great tastes that taste great together? Um, yes please.)
OK, this was getting annoying. Somehow, he had to figure out a way to see what was going on you-know-where without him actually having to even think about going anywhere near you-know-where. If only there was a spell for that…
Wait, hold the phone. There was a spell for that, wasn’t there?
Sitting up and snatching his wand off his nightstand, knocking aside about a half-case’s worth of empty Mountain Dew cans in the process, Max pointed it at the photo of himself and his family from Puerto Rico (in their matching orange vacation outfits) that sat on his dresser, and struggled to remember a spell that Conscience had tried to teach him three or four months ago.
“Please, please, tell me now,” he said uncertainly. “Is there something I should know… uh…Duranium, Duranias?”
For a second, nothing happened, and Max was convinced he’d gotten the spell wrong. (Because, seriously, ’Duranium, Duranias’? Yeah, that couldn’t be right.) But then, as if the laws of physics and probability had simply shrugged and said ‘ sure, kid, whatever’, the image in the frame began to darken and swirl. Gone was the photo of Max and his family in terrible patterned polyester, replaced by a direct live feed from Alex’s bedroom. Where, apparently, Justin was dodging for dear life in the darkness as Alex snatched her digital alarm clock off her nightstand and hurled it at him.
“Get out!” Alex snarled at him, angrier than Max had ever seen her. Which was saying something.
“I’m sorry!” Justin said, holding his hands out before him. “I didn’t mean to-!”
“GET OUT!” Alex growled again, loud enough that Max heard it in stereo, both through the picture frame as well as reverberating down the hall. She grabbed hold of her lamp this time, and cocked her arm as if to throw it.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up!” Justin protested, even as he cringed. “I was hoping not to, actually!”
“Oh, so what?” Alex sneered, lowering the lamp slightly. “You were just gonna sneak in here and slip it to me while I was asleep? Is that it?!”
Max frowned at this. Wait, slip it to her? Oh man, he hoped she was just talking about Justin giving her a wet willie…
“What?! No! I’d never-!” Justin said, in that breathy, scandalized voice of his. And even to Max, he sounded phenomenally hurt. “Do you really think I’d-?”
Alex watched him for a moment, silently, then slumped her shoulders and set the lamp back down on her nightstand. “No,” she admitted quietly, then snorted. “You’re way too much of a goody two-shoes for that, aren’t you?”
Justin chuckled bitterly, and shook his head. “I can’t win with you, can I?”
“Never have, never will,” Alex said, matter-of-factly, lying back down and gathering her sheets around herself. “What are you doing here, Justin?”
Justin shrugged, almost imperceptibly. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“So? How’s that my problem?” Alex scoffed, rolling over onto her side, turning her back to him. “Go tug one out and leave me alone already, egghead. You know how. God knows, I’ve watched you do it often enough.”
Max’s eyebrows jumped so high on his forehead that they threatened to launch into orbit. Wow. OK, so they were definitely not talking about wet willies, anymore.
“That’s not why I’m here, Alex,” Justin said, his voice raw with emotion. “I just…I wanted to hold you. That’s all.”
Alex didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, as Justin stared at her helplessly, Max wondered if she’d actually fallen asleep again. But then, just as Justin’s shoulders slumped in defeat and it looked like he was about to turn around and leave the room, Alex sighed dramatically and reached behind her to lift up the corner of her covers.
“Get in here, already,” she growled, without turning to face him, “before I change my mind.”
Justin grinned in relief, then hurried to crawl into bed next to her, spooning his body into hers as she dropped the covers over him.
“This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven, egghead,” she said pointedly, although most of the heat had gone out of her voice.
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I know,” Justin said, as he nuzzled the back of her neck. “I’m frustrated, too.”
“Just not frustrated enough,” Alex scoffed bitterly.
“Alex, c’mon…that’s not fair, and you know it,” Justin sighed. “You know I’d do anything for you. There isn’t a law I wouldn’t break, no consequence I wouldn’t accept, if it meant being with you. But asking me to magically banish our little brother to fend for himself for three days, just so we can spend the weekend screwing like rabbits? That’s a bit frivolous, don’t you think?”
At this, Max’s jaw dropped so hard that he was certain they must have heard it hit the floor all the way down the hall. Holy crap, so that’s why they wanted to send him to South Dakota?!
“You didn’t have a problem with me doing the dirty work, though,” Alex pointed out, oblivious. And the fact that she wasn’t the least bit shocked by Justin’s pronouncement in the least was almost more shocking than the pronouncement itself.
“Well, no,” Justin admitted, the covers rising slightly as he shrugged his shoulders beneath them. “You have to admit, though: it is kind of what you’re good at.”
“Aaaaaaand we’re back to wanting to kick your ass out, again…” said Alex.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Justin said quickly, sounding a little panicked. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just…all this sneaking around we’ve been having to do, all the lies we’ve had to tell, all the rules we’re breaking…it doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does to you, Alex. If anything, it goes against my nature, and I’m still…adjusting, I guess.”
They lapsed into silence again for a moment, their breathing the only sound coming from the picture frame. Max stared at it in absolute shock, senses reeling, feeling sick to his stomach as the immensity of what he’d discovered began to sink in, threatening to turn his entire world upside down.
“I suppose it does kind of fly in the face of your whole, dorky ‘What would Captain Jim Bob Sherwood do?’ philosophy, doesn’t it?” Alex said finally.
“Uh, no shit!” Max muttered to himself.
“Just a tad, yeah,” Justin agreed with him flatly, even though he wasn’t aware of it. “For one thing, I’m pretty sure the Comics Code Authority tends to frown on this sort of thing.”
“I have absolutely no clue what that even means,” Alex said, shaking her head. Then, after a moment, she added: “I wasn’t going to charm him, y’know. Even if I’d had my wand. I was just planning to talk him into being somewhere else for the weekend. I’m not a complete sociopath, thank you very much.”
Max snorted at this and shook his head sharply at the way she managed to say that with a straight face while spooning in bed with their older brother. Because, dude, seriously…
“Wow, bonus points for your correct use of the word ‘sociopath’,” Justin said, impressed.
”Ugh, Justin…” Alex groaned impatiently.
“Look, if it’s really that important to you, I can always flash him to the Beekerman Jamboree,” Justin continued. “We’ll send a note with him for Harper, so she can cover. Max’ll be pissed when he wakes up there, sure, but at least we’d know where he was, and I think he’d probably have a good time in the long run, anyway.”
Max’s breath caught in his throat, as he reflexively tightened his grip around his wand, his mind racing to remember if he’d ever been taught a way to guard against being teleported against his will. It sounded like the kind of thing Dad would have covered, but…crap. For probably the first time in his life, he found himself wishing he paid closer attention during Wizard Lessons.
“No, it’s OK,” Alex sighed in resignation. “We really do need Max’s help with the Sub Station, anyway. There’s no way in hell we could have managed all that today without him.”
“True,” Justin agreed. “I hate to admit it, but it was probably wishful thinking to believe that we could.”
Loosening his hold on his wand, Max let out a small breath in a combination of relief and surprise. Huh. OK, so maybe Justin hadn’t been P-wording him, after all…
“Besides, I don’t wanna ruin Harper’s weekend, either,” Alex continued. “I honestly think the main reason she went in the first place was to get away from magical shenanigans for a few days…”
“Hello, what’s this?” Justin teased her. “Alex Russo, acting all responsible? Putting the needs of others ahead of her own? Who are you, strange lady, and what have you done with my baby sister-slash-girlfriend?”
“Gah!” Max said, actually wincing and sticking out his tongue at this. Because yeah, while he’d gotten there on his own, thanks, actually hearing Justin confirm it out loud? Eyyugh.
“Shut up, jackass. You’re not the only one operating outside your comfort zone, here,” Alex snapped, elbowing him in the ribs. “Though I can’t tell you how pissed I am that Harper and Zeke, of all people, are going to wind up getting laid more often this weekend than I am.”
“Ugh, that is really not something I want to think about,” Justin groaned, wincing as he pressed his forehead against Alex’s shoulder. “Seriously. Way to kill my boner.”
“Aw, dude…,” Max grimaced, wrenching his eyes shut against the sudden visual he really hadn’t needed. “No. Just…no.”
“Just as well,” Alex yawned, twisting around to look at him over her shoulder. “My ass is beat, and we need to be up again in just a few hours.”
“Yeah,” Justin groaned. “Stupid restaurant.”
“Stupid Canadian tourists,” Alex griped.
“Stupid Max,” they both added in the same breath. Then, laughing quietly, they both lifted their heads off their pillows, craned their necks, and pressed their lips together in a soft, chaste goodnight kiss…
And that, finally, was about as much as Max could stand. He grabbed the edge of the picture frame and slammed it down onto his nightstand, hard enough that he heard glass crunch beneath. Swinging his legs off his bed, he stormed furiously across his room, grabbed the knob and yanked it open. And this time he didn’t wind up back in bed, staring up at the brown Nutella stain on his ceiling, or fantasizing about all the terrible things he’d do to Sonny Monroe, given even half a chance.
Because whatever it was going on in Alex’s room at that particular moment? Yeah, definitely not something that he wanted any part of, thanks.
Part I | Part II