Leer had handled Max perfectly, by giving her what she always wanted from Victor, a chance to be heard about anything, without fear that he might retaliate if she said anything he didn't want to hear. It was like the starting gun at the Preakness had just been fired. The sheer power of what burst forth from Max's mouth, a hundred thoroughbreds could not compete. Before it ended, a dozen plates and twice as many pitchers of coffee found their way to that booth at the far end of Mickey's diner only to be scraped clean or drained dry by the vociferous Max and Tommy and Victor who were uncharacteristically though thoroughly attentive to her every word. Before the night gave way to the dawn, Blue and Leer had the answers to every single question they had asked, however surreptitiously, and knew everything they needed to know to survive for at least a short time in this new world.
"Well, I guess it's time to go home," Tommy yawned as he patted his healed but bloated belly.
Nearly everything they needed to know.
Blue looked at Leer as both of them inwardly faced the realization that they had no idea where home was.
Just then Max said,"Well we're not taking you home with us Tommy," then she gave a menacing glance at Victor as she continued,"I realize that you guys are planning to stop fighting, and believe it or not, I think you're right, after all who wants to die, especially twice, but I'm not going to bring you to my house Levito.
"Well how 'bout droppin' me off at my place then," Tommy chimed in without mising a beat. Max looked deeply into Tommy's eyes, Blue's eyes looked back at her. Max suddenly felt remarkably self-concious as if Tommy was looking inside of her mind - reading her thoughts - thoughts of him, not only being in her house, but in her bed, so she said, "ummm".
The trio looked at one another in silence until the silence became timeless.
"Tommy! What the Bast!?" a big, bald, muscular biker shouted from the entrance to Mickey's diner. He stomped his way across the diner. Blue got to his feet, not sure if he should run or prepare to fight. Before he could run, the biker was on him.
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