Black and Blue

Disclaimer: I don't own Get Smart. I am merely playing in its toybox.

Maxwell Smart was currently in the second biggest fight of life. He and his partner, 99, had unsuspectingly stumbled into KAOS' latest hideout at the SoHo Bakery. Having just returned from her undercover assignment in Paris, Max had decided to treat 99 to a welcome-back breakfast. Although he would never have admitted it, Max had sorely missed his brunette better half. He'd tried to talk the Chief into letting him accompany his fiancée, but the Chief had been firm. Besides, he'd reasoned with Max, nobody would ever believe a fashion model – 99's cover story in Paris – would ever be seen with a little-known somebody such as Max.

Little known. Max had scoffed at that! He was the world's best secret agent – a spy extraordinaire! Dashingly handsome, coupled with a devastating personality, he made women everywhere swoon. "Why," he'd told the Chief, "They literally fall over themselves for me!"

He found it somewhat ironic that those words were coming back to haunt him as he was presently flat on his back, his lower lip sporting a nasty-looking cut. He darted his tongue out and tasted the distinct metallic tang that came from the blood slowly trickling out. Frowning in anger, he picked himself up from off the ground and threw a mean left hook at the KAOS agent who was lunging toward him.

"Oompf!"

Max's fist connected solidly with the man's jaw, sending the henchman tumbling to the ground, evidently down for the count. He looked at him smugly and bent down.

"Ha! Once again, the forces of niceness have triumphed over the forces of evil!" Cuffing the agent's hands together, he once again directed a satisfied smile at the unconscious man, before looking up to see how 99 was faring.

Currently in the third biggest fight of her life, CONTROL's most beautiful agent was holding her own rather well against Ilsa Van Lichten, one of KAOS' most-celebrated killers. 99 had methodically worked her way through the cases of rye and wheat until she had the German beauty backed up against a mountain of sourdough, trapped with nowhere to run.

Max couldn't have been happier for her. He was beginning to think – albeit very privately –

that his fiancée might very well rival his prowess as a spy. And although, he would never admit it to anyone, he had no qualms in yelling an enthusiastic, "Way to go, 99!"

It was the worst thing he could have done at that moment. Instantly distracted by his shout of praise, 99 made the mistake of glancing over to where he stood. Ilsa saw her golden opportunity and snatched it, cocking her hand back and throwing a powerful punch directly at 99.

In the split second it took for the lovely CONTROL agent to realize what was happening, she was knocked backward, completely caught off balance. Her arm swung out, grazing Ilsa on the chin and causing her to miss a step. As 99 regained her stance, she could feel her right eye already beginning to swell.

"That does it," she muttered, narrowing her eyebrows. "No more Miss Nice CONTROL agent." Pulling out her gun, she trained it on Ilsa. "I wouldn't go anywhere if I were you, Ilsa."

Ilsa stopped and raised her hands in the air, instantly choosing surrender as a better option than being shot. "Resorting to a weapon," she clucked in disappointment. "Miss 99, I thought better of you."

"I guess you thought wrong," she shrugged. She took a step back as Max approached them.

"Great work, 99!" He glanced at her rapidly darkening eye. "Eh, sorry about that, 99."

"It's all right, Max. Let's just get her cuffed, so we can turn them over to the Chief and get out of here."

"Right, 99." He took the handcuffs 99 offered him. "Come on, Ilsa. Time to take you back to jail."

XXX

"I'm fine, Max. Really."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then, why don't you take off the glasses?" Max asked. They had successfully closed their case and were now on their way back to Max's apartment. 99 had suggested Max to drop her off at her apartment, but Max had insisted she go to his so he could make her a nice meal.

"After all, a girl in your condition shouldn't do anything too strenuous," he had told her.

She had tried to explain that "her condition" as he had put it, wouldn't hinder her from cooking some noodles and watching television. But, Max wouldn't hear of it. So here she was, neatly buckled into Max's convertible, flying down the highway to his soon-to-be-nonexistent bachelor's pad.

"I'll take the glasses off when we get to your apartment, love," 99 promised.

"OK, if that's how you want it," Max said, giving in. After all, the girl had just gotten the living daylights smacked out of her, and it was her eye. Who was he to tell her what to do? He'd have to remember to be sensitive about the whole situation and be tactful and considerate.

Tactful and considerate, he thought. Yes, that was definitely the way to go.

XXX

"Whoa, 99 that's quite a shiner you have there."

"Thanks Max," she muttered, not particularly happy with her fiancé's accurate, but still highly annoying, observation.

Max and 99 had finally made it the apartment after circling the block three times trying to find a parking space. Max had constantly apologized, muttering about the lack of parking and complaining on the continual construction zone that had once been his street. After getting 99 settled in, he had finally gotten her to remove her dark sunglasses.

"It's nice and purple. A real beauty," he went on, leaning in for a better look.

"It doesn't feel like a beauty. It's really starting to smart," she told him.

"Well, then it can't be a bad thing if it smarts, huh?" Max grinned.

"Max," she scolded, wincing as she realized her unintentional pun.

"Sorry about that, 99," he apologized. Motioning her to the couch, he patted the cushion. "Here, sit down. I'll get something for your eye, OK?" He made certain she was settled in before moving into the kitchen.

99 closed her good eye, trying to focus her attention on something other than her bruise. She tried to picture a quiet ocean sunset, the fiery orange melting into the rolling hues of blue waves, but it was no use. Instead, she listened as Max rummaged through the refrigerator. A moment later she heard the ice tray crash to the floor.

"Drat," she heard him grumble.

"Is everything alright, love?"

"It's fine, 99," he called from the kitchen. "I dropped the ice tray!"

She laughed. She loved that man more than life itself, but he was the clumsiest person she had ever met.

"What's so funny?" Max asked returning from the kitchen, carrying a tea towel and a clear bag full of ice cubes.

"Nothing," she told him as he sat down next to her, her one good eye twinkling with laughter.

He squinted at her, his brows drawing closer together. "Mmm-hmm. I don't believe you, 99."

She laughed again, placing a hand on his arm. "I was amused when you dropped the ice trays. That's all."

"Oh," he nodded. He pursed his lips together. "That's not a very nice thing to laugh about, 99."

"I wasn't laughing at you, Max," she assured him. "I just found the situation humorous."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He considered her for a moment and then nodded. "Well, if you promise. Now, lean your head back," he instructed, wrapping the towel around the bag of ice. "This is going to a little cold."

A little cold isn't how she would've described it, 99 thought to herself as Max lowered the ice onto her eye. He must've chipped it off an iceberg!

"That's really cold!"

"Sorry," Max apologized. "But it will help the swelling go down."

"If you say so."

"I do." He smiled at her and brushed her bangs back off her forehead, becoming silent.

"What is it?" 99 asked, noticing the faraway look in his eyes.

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About those words."

"What words?" 99 looked confused.

"I do," Max smiled. "I'm going to get to say them to you pretty soon."

99 blushed. "Yes, well …"

"Are you nervous?"

"Not at all," 99 assured him. "I can't wait." She leaned closer to him.

"That's my girl," Max smiled, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

"What about you?" she asked, settling into his embrace.

"I'm ready, 99. Just point me to the church," he grinned.

"Well, let's wait for my eye to heal," she laughed.

Max reached over and gently turned her face to him. "I really am sorry about that, 99."

"Don't concern yourself with it, Max. It was an accident." She smiled reassuringly at him.

"Yes, well, just think what your mother's going to say when she sees that. How are you going to explain it? 'Yes Mother, I really was hit by a flying box of greeting cards.'" He looked at her skeptically.

"Well, it might work," she said defending her earlier statement.

"Mmm-hmm." Max didn't sound too convinced.

"I'm sure I'll think of something. And if I can't, then I know you can."

"Well," Max smiled proudly, puffing out his chest. "I am CONTROL's best spy. So, yeah, that shouldn't be too hard."

99 lowered her head to conceal an amused smile, but Max didn't seem to notice. He simply went on proclaiming his spy prowess.

"Come to think of it, I should be able to come up with a great cover story. We can say that we were hiking and you tripped and hit a rock, or how about we were roller-skating and you fell while doing the Hokey Pokey?" He looked to her for approval.

"The Hokey Pokey, Max? I don't think so."

His face fell. "Oh. Well, what about, eh, what about …"

"Yes?"

"I don't know. That was my only other idea," he admitted, looking down at his feet dejectedly.

"I know! Why don't we use your first idea?"

He perked up. "The Hokey Pokey?"

"No, your other first one," 99 sighed, rolling her eyes at him.

"Oh! The hiking! Yes, well, I suppose we could do that one," he agreed.

She sat up and placed a quick kiss on his nose. "Thank you, Mr. Smart."

Max grinned. "You're welcome, soon-to-be Mrs. Smart."

99 couldn't help but smile back at him. "I like the sound of that."

"I like it more," Max told her.

"No, I think I do."

"No really, 99. I do."

"No, Max, I think I really "

She was cut off as Max covered his mouth with hers effectively ending their argument and making her completely forget what she had just been arguing about.