Okay he was done.

The girl made a remark about his customer service skills like she had just gone to the counter of a fast food resturant instead of trying to make a drug deal. Maxwell was usually good at talking, but his initial impression of the girls intention had thrown him. Once the damage was done he should have just called it there, his skills were in the courtroom not the back room. At least now he could get back to the club and pour himself a nice drink.

That dream was crushed when he saw her bolt down one of the hallways. Max swore and cried out for her to stop before sprinting after her. What was she doing? He rounded the corner just in time to see her finish removing her heels and take another turn. He had to catch her, he couldn't let her run free of the back facility, she could stumble upon any number of Ragnarok's affair. That would complicate things.

He lowered gravity on himself to increase his speed and sprinted after her. The odds were in his favor. He was taller and either his power he should be able to run her down and stop her. She had a head start though. That or the possibility of her running into staff was high back here. Best case he could catch her and throw her out of the club and be done with this mess, but if she saw something she shouldn't have....well.

He barely kept her in sight as she took turns seemingly without direction. The pursuit would have to end eventually.

HOW WAS HE SO FAST!?

June was by no means a great sprinter. She was, at best, already winded. But she was really, really motivated to stay out of this guy's hands.

She tried one door, narrowly ducked out of the range of a long-armed swipe from Maxwell and ran her hand over another doorknob that felt locked before she continued. Nothing seemed to be open, but she didn't have time to check every door. There were no obviously wonderful hiding spots. She knew that with every step she took, she was getting into worse and worse trouble, but there was no turning back. If she turned back, that's where Maxwell was.

Oh! The thought occurred to the French woman as she slammed around a hairpin curve in the honeycomb of mysterious hallways. He was fast because he was using his power. She could be fast too!

She skid to a halt at the mouth of a large open space that was filled with a collection of old and probably expensive vehicles. She didn't know them by name on sight, but the styles were slick and lean and sensual. She tucked herself beside the open doorway and, while there was the temporary block in the line of sight between them, June tried her hand at activating his power.

It was not at all what she expected.

She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out as she unexpectedly lost her footing and started to float up the side wall next to the door.

She was quick and Maxwell found it impossible to get ahold of her. She ran down the hallways and when they reached a tight corner she juked out of his reach and headed down it. Maxwell's momentum carried him past the hall and he had to throw himself backward to go after her.

She was nowhere to be found but as Maxwell looked down the hall he felt a surge of satisfaction. The girl had ran to Jorges garage. The hallway didn't branch further and once inside the only way out was through the bay doors that lead to the tunnel and up to the surface. He pulled his tie off from around his neck and clutched it in his right hand. With his elft he popped the top button of his shirt and let sweet refreshing air enter his lung.

He dropped his power and started walking to the door slowly.

"This doesn't have to end badly. Your determined I respect that. But if you are here for what you say you are here for this is not the way to get it. You will find nothing but trouble down these halls." He called.

Things hadn't escalated to the point where there was no return. Sure she had ran, but both of them could still walk away from this. She hadn't seemed like an adict while they were talking, but her illogical decision to search for the drugs by sprinting through the back offices spoke otherwise.

"Come out and talk. I won't touch you, no one has to get hurt. I'll have you escorted out and give you the name of someone who can get you what you need. Don't make this complicated for either of us " He said as he reached the open doors to the garage

She hated to admit it, but he was right. Her impulse to dash down here was a bad one that would not get her what she initially wanted. For now, her goals had changed. She cared less about Ambrosia and more about leaving alive and untouched. The problem with his honeyed words was that he seemed to think she was naive enough to believe that he would just let her go.

Stripper pole, indeed!

June remained very, very still despite her slow rise toward the ceiling. It was difficult. She wanted to pant and catch her breath after the long run she'd endured. Her lungs were screaming for it, in fact, but fashion was pain. If there was anything June was used to, it was not being able to breathe in a corset.

She was praying to anyone who would listen that Maxwell would just walk on past and let her dangle there in mid air. Though the ceiling was slowly approaching, she was hoping he would be gone before she got there. At least she had a great view of some really neat cars... was that a blood stain in the back seat of that convertible?

Maxwell entered the garage listening intensely. He heard nothing, no note if the girl he had been following. He let out a sigh, she wasn't going to take the easy way. How tiresome.

He grabbed one of the wheeled stools that resided in the garage by the door.He set it in front of the door and plopped down on it.

She could hide if she wanted to. Maxwell had the advantage of time. He pulled out his phone and began dialing the clubs office number.

"Should have taken the deal. Now I have to consider you as a trespasser and security will not be fond of that." He said coldly.

He prepared to hit the call button and get some backup.

Okay. Slow motion flying, right? That's what this was? Sort-of? June tested it by leaning in the direction that she wanted to go. Sure enough, that's exactly what happened. June trailed her hand along the wall to stop herself until she was left bobbing along almost directly above Maxwell.

He was sitting just in front of the opening. If she could stick perfectly close to the wall, if she could remain silent, if he didn't look up, and if she could squeeze by without dropping anything or goofing up, June thought she could just barely slink past him. Maybe. It was a lot of ifs, but she didn't exactly see a better option at this moment in time.

She used the wall to pull herself down, not confident enough to experiment with this foreign power she was using at such a pivotal moment in time. And of course she jumped when he spoke. He didn't exactly say anything directly threatening to her well being, but he had such a bad guy vibe. And when he whipped out his phone, it was the straw that broke her stealthy camel's back.

June reached down without stopping to think it through and filched the phone up and out of his fingers and pushed off of the wall to drift away over the vehicles. She hit the hang up button immediately, but since the phone was unlocked... "Let's see. I could call 911, but since I'd rather not implicate myself, let's have a chat withs your mother instead."

Ah! Perfect. There was a contact labeled 'mom' after all. June hit the green call button and tried to maintain eye contact as she drifted upward, phone to ear.

The phone was unceremoniously plucked from Maxwell's hand and he looked up in surprise to see the girl floating out above the cars. She bobbed above him in a familiar fashion, a very familiar fashion. It was his power, or something very similar. He hadn't met many people who could float, fewer who could fly.

It also raised the question of her intent. Ambrosia gave normal people mutant powers, but as far as Maxwell was aware the drug did little for mutants. If she already had a power why come here for drugs? It didn't make sense.

He would have explored the thought further if not for her words. Her voice rang out condescending and she mentioned calling his mother...

A storm of buried emotions flared up within Maxwell. "Mom" was a contact in his phone he had had since he was a boy, it was also a number he had not called since he was a young teenager. The thought brought back memories of a sad child sitting on a couch waiting for parents who would never return. Of funerals and foster homes and the smile of a woman who would never again speak to him.

He'd had what four phones? Five? Since her death, and every time he would come to that contact, and find himself unable to delete it. The reminder slammed into him and the storm unleashed itself into a surging fury.

"Give it back!" He shouted, his voice ringing in the room.

He jumped, instinctively channeling his power directly at the girl and felt himself hurling towards her like a battering ram. He drew back a leg and swung it at her midriff in a powerfull kick to the stomach. She was young, she was a girl, but he didn't care. Propelled by anger, sadness, and loss. She had no way of knowing that his mother was dead, there had been no intentional malice in her statement, but he didn't care. He had only one thought.

Make her pay.

Riiiiiiing

June watched his face run through it's emotions as plainly as if she'd been reading a book while she listened to the phone against her ear.

Riiiiiiing

Shock. Irritation. Fury. Someone had mommy issues. June smirked at him as he launched himself upwards.

Riiiiii--. Punjar’s Indian Cuisine. No Curry too hot, no price too low. Can I start your order?

Wha- that wasn't a mom. June squiggled in her lazy rotation. With nothing to push off or against, she had no clue how to drive this dumb power. And Maxwell did.

He hit her with a full on roundhouse kick to the gut.

The phone bounced​ out of her hand along with her dignity. Hey lunch very nearly followed.

June was not a fighter.

Maxwell should have felt remorse for hitting the girl. He should have stopped right there and let go of his fury. But something inside him had snapped. Instead he saw the girl take the hit and drop his phone and he dove for it in a frenzy.

He caught it before it hit the ground and hit the hang up button. He didn't want to know who had picked up the line. What had become of the number he had dialed so often in his youth.

He looked back up at the girl as she floated above him and scowled. His anger still pulsing in his ears in a constant thumping of his heart.

"Get out of here." He said in suppressed fury.

He jabbed a finger at the bay doors that lead put of the garage and to the streets above. He did not want Jorge finding out some girl had snuck into the back rooms of the club.

"I won't tell you again." He spat.

For a brief moment, June couldn't feel like she could inhale. Her body just refused. It was the cold fury of Maxwell's command that gave her leave to breathe again.

There was murder in that voice. Her murder, if she didn't get going.

June raked in a desperate breath and cut off her access to her own power which ended her access to Maxwell's power. The girl dropped almost 10 feet onto her hands and feet, coughing and gasping.

> "I won't tell you again."

She ran. Like gazelle that'd been nipped at by a crocodile, she ran. Her shoes, she abandoned. Her jacket wasn't enough to keep her from feeling the chill under the river. She felt exposed. Scared. And even without her shoes, she didn't stop until she was several blocks away.

June had thought herself brave. Like she could have at least lied about being brave. Or faked some bravado. But Maxwell... he had mommy issues, she decided. And she wasn't about to get between a man and his mommy issues.

With shaking hands, she hailed a cab.

Miranda's Ambrosia would have to wait for another day.