Disclaimer: Don't own anything.  Except me.  I own that.

Author's note: Not much plot here, I know.  This scene came to me, and there wasn't a rest of story to go along with it, so I just posted this.

POV: X5-494 a.k.a. "Alec" Location: Residence of Cale, Logan.

Power… on.  Scrape. 

"Oh, baby…" 

I've just discovered I have the most BURNING desire… but not for a food processor. 

click  Scrape. 

"BOOMMM!" 

Snort.  You call that mass destruction? 

click  Scrape. 

"…for only $29.95…" 

If you order now, we'll throw in this useless plastic oblong absolutely FREE! 

click  Scrape scrape. 

"…the lion is a territorial hunter…" 

Indeed it is.  Scrape.

"Do you mind?!"  And the mood darkens.

I flicked my eyes up from the TV at Max.  "No, not at all."  Scrape.

"What the hell is that noise?" she bitched, maneuvering for a better glaring position.

I flicked up the freshly scraped cookie between two fingers.  "I believe this is called an OH-REE-OH.  The guy who sold them assured me they were delicious and nutritious; practically a food group." 

I popped it in my mouth, twisted another one open, and started scraping the white stuff off on my bottom teeth.  Scccrrraaapppeee.

She pounced at the bag, but I grabbed it out of the way.  She almost fell on her face.  I smirked at her.  She pressed one knee into my gut and wrapped her little claws around the bag. 

"Excuse me, I paid for these," I said, trying to brush her hands off.

"Logan and I are trying to work here," she growled, hunching over like the bag like it was her prey or something.

"If you need something to snack on to keep your strength up, the least you can do is ask first.  That's the polite thing to do," I said, giving the bag a sharp tug.

Her grip didn't loosen. 

She tossed her head back and said mockingly, "Since when have you ever cared about being polite?"

I leaned up until our noses almost touched.  "Since it's my food," I said, giving her a shove with my right elbow and whipping the bag up and down.

She dug her knee in hard and yanked at the same time.  She pulled me off the couch on top of her as she fell flat on her back.  I put my elbows out on either side of her shoulders as I fell to keep from crushing the bag.  As I hit, I heard a soft cough from the doorway.  We both turned.  Logan was watching us. 

Max was horrified.  "Get off me!" she snapped. 

I shrugged.  "Let go," I said, giving the bag a slight wiggle. 

Her bony fingers snapped open like a trap.  I got up gracefully and lay back down on the couch.  She got to her feet with a stomp, grabbed the TV remote from the pillow next to me, turned the volume down so low I could hardly hear it, chucked it at my head, and stormed out of the room.

Logan stepped out of her way, and stepped back to give me a "what are you doing?" look. 

"What?" I asked, innocently. 

"Is there something going on I should know about?" he asked, coolly. 

"Yeah.  She was trying to steal my food," I said in my most wounded voice. 

"And you're in such danger of wasting away," he said, turning his back on me. 

Hey.  "Haven't you heard that breakfast is the most important meal of the day?" I called after him. 

Volume…up.  Where's that can?  pop  fizz 

"The fortunate lion has brought down a gazelle…" 

Go Lion. 

"ALEC!" Max screeched. 

"All right, jeez.  Mee-ow," I muttered. 

Volume… down.  click 

The End

If anyone would like to supply me with plot ideas to turn this into a longer story, be my guest.