Timeframe: The very beginning and end take place after "Proof of Purchase," but there are no intentional spoilers for upcoming episodes. Any similarities are coincidental. The main story takes place somewhere between "Out" and "Art Attack."
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November 2020
There was so much mail that morning, a few days before Logan's birthday, that the mail carrier buzzed for someone to come down and pick it up. Bling offered to go, and Logan, lost in work, nodded without even looking up.
Bling quietly closed the door and waited in the hall for the elevator, frowning.
He wasn't around Logan nearly as much these days, now that Logan was so much more independent. Being up and around part of the time meant he needed less physical therapy, though given the difficult situation with Max, he seemed to need a friend more than ever. Someone who could offer a shoulder to lean on and a foot firmly applied to his rear end when necessary. Which was why Bling had taken to dropping in now and then, unannounced, even if they didn't have any work to do.
Today the excuse was early birthday greetings. Logan had acted glad enough to see him, but Bling saw the signs of strain, too. The big pile of work on the desk, the messy hair, the used coffee cup on the desk with a skin of curdled cream. Fifteen minutes ago Logan had said he would be done working in five minutes, tops. Yeah, right.
Well, this pile of mail would give them something to talk about. He went back to the apartment.
Logan took the stack of mail and flipped through it quickly. Bills. Catalogues filled with things he couldn't afford any more. Birthday cards. Thick white and cream-colored envelopes from the Cales, bright blue and red and purple envelopes from his old college friends, pale yellow with Bennett and Marianne's return address in the left corner. Well, he wasn't exactly in a festive mood right now. This could wait until later. He pushed the bundle to the side of the desk and turned back to the computer. "Just give me one more second to finish this off," he said to Bling.
"What, you're not going to open them?" Bling asked lightly.
"No. I'm not."
"Might be a check or two in there, don't you think?"
Logan scowled, then, seeing that Bling wasn't going to budge, picked up the stack of cards and quickly slit them open. "Aunt Margo. No check. Aunt Clara. No check, long illegible note. Bennett and Marianne. House picture. Michael and Laura. Baby picture. Stephanie and Chris. Baby picture and house picture. And so on." Again he dropped the mail on the desk and turned back to the computer. Now maybe Bling would go away.
But Bling didn't move. "What's wrong with this one?" he asked, reaching for a plain white envelope poking out from under the messy pile. Logan tried to grab it but Bling was too quick for him.
"Smith," he read. He frowned at Logan. "This is from Samantha and David. Thought you'd be eager for news of Maria."
Exasperated, Logan pushed away from the desk. "Last I heard, Maria was doing just fine. And I'm sure Maria is still doing just fine. Now, are you going to stop acting like my mother and let me finish up here?"
"Hey, whatever, man." Shaking his head, Bling tossed him the envelope and went to the kitchen for something to drink. The office fell silent.
He returned there to find Logan still sitting next to the desk, envelope in hand, gazing towards the windows. Bling set his glass down on a pile of papers and sat on the corner of the desk.
"Hey. Want to tell me about it?"
Startled, Logan jumped. "Yeah, I guess." Sighing, he moved back to the desk and carefully propped the envelope against the keyboard, running his thumb gently over the return address before turning back to Bling. "It's pretty simple, really. I just don't want to tell them how it is now with Max and me."
"Not like it's your fault."
"Yeah, well, whatever. They had high hopes for us. As usual, I get to disappoint them."
"Didn't I just say, not your fault?"
Logan ignored him. "Remember that time Max and I went out to their farm? When the Langford corruption trial was happening?"
"Sure."
"I made some promises then. Promises it looks like I won't be keeping any time soon."
Bling folded his arms, settled onto the desk. "You never did tell me much about that trip. Want to do it now?"
Logan hesitated, then gave in. "Why not. Might as well live in the past. I'm not getting much else done today."
"You're doing plenty of feeling sorry for yourself."
"You're damned right I am. Do you want to hear this story or not?"
Bling grinned. "I'm all yours."
Logan began to talk.
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Winter, 2020
It started on a workday afternoon. The telephone rang and Logan, deep into some DMV files he'd finally accessed with another hacker's help, glanced at the display. Don't know that area code, he thought. I'll let the machine get it. He turned his attention back to his work, until he heard a familiar voice.
"Logan? Are you there? It's Sam. If you're there, could you pick up?"
Sam? Samantha Smith? Quickly Logan picked up the telephone. "Sam, I'm here. Hang on a second --" He hit the stop button on the answering machine. "Okay. Hey, how are you?"
"We're fine, Logan, thanks. " Static began to crackle through the line. "It's just that we haven't talked to you --" Her voice disappeared, then returned. "-- a little worried --" More static. "--Maria is scheduled to testify next week at the corruption trial and --"
The trial! Alarmed, Logan quickly copied Sam's number from the display. "This is a terrible connection. Hang up, Sam, I'll call you back." He didn't know whether she could hear him. To his relief, she picked up on his first ring, and the line was clear. "What's wrong?" he asked, the DMV files forgotten.
"Oh, Logan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Sam apologized. "I hate to bother you with this, but you never know ... David and I both think you should hear it."
"Is Maria all right?" Please, Logan thought, not another job gone wrong. He realized his hands were sweating.
"She's fine. It's just that ... well, she thinks someone is following her. " Sam sounded embarrassed. "David and I have done everything we can to reassure her. We've driven her to school. We've checked all the farm buildings before we go to bed at night. We lock the doors." She sighed. "Honestly, I think it's the stress of the trial, knowing she'll see people from the prison again. But she's absolutely convinced that something is wrong and nothing David and I say or do can calm her down. She's asking for Max. She thinks Max will protect her."
Logan relaxed. This was something he knew how to handle. "Tell you what, Sam. What if I could persuade Max to spend a couple of days out in the fresh country air? Think that would make Maria feel better?"
"Oh, could you? She would love it, and honestly, we would too. I know it's silly, but she's actually got us a bit spooked. And," Sam hesitated again, "why don't you come too? We haven't seen you since --"
She stopped, but it wasn't hard for Logan to finish the thought. Since you nearly got yourself killed. He hadn't gone along when Max took Maria to her new home. Max had been in the mood for a motorcycle trip and he'd been grateful for that. It had been a good excuse to avoid introducing Sam and David to this year's fashion accessory, the wheelchair. Which was something he still wanted to avoid.
"Actually, I'm in the middle of a huge project right now and time's kind of tight."
"Another time, then." Sam sounded disappointed. "But I hope Max can make it. Give me a call as soon as you know, okay?"
Probably would have been good manners to ask Max before I signed her up, he thought as he hung up the phone. But he had already seen the way she instinctively nurtured and protected kids, and Maria was no exception. Besides, Max would jump all over any excuse to take a good long ride out of the city on her bike -- for some reason, thinking about the bike made him uneasy for a moment, but he couldn't figure out why -- well, no time to worry about that now.
Better page Max before she made plans. Just like I'm calling her for a date, he thought, then sighed. Not much chance of that. He'd promised himself after Max came back to Seattle that he would not cross that line. What she had done that day had shaken him more than he liked to admit. It had been such a loving, generous, and utterly stupid thing to do. He was older and presumably wiser, which made it his responsibility to see that nothing he did or said from now on would ever encourage her to take another risk like that. Not for him.
When he turned around to reach for the telephone, Max was there, leaning against the wall and watching him with that little smile on her face.
This tendency of hers show up unannounced sometimes caught him off guard. Those were the days when he had to discipline himself strictly, act indifferent almost to the point of rudeness, just to keep her from seeing his feelings all over his face. But today was a good day. He'd been looking for her anyway, so he was able to say hello cheerfully, like a friend, instead of some pathetic creep who obsessed about her night and day.
"Hey, I was just going to page you. If you're not doing anything special for the next couple of days I've got a very nice offer for you." The minute the words were out of his mouth he wanted to take them back. They sounded like the lamest come-on line in the world. But Max laughed.
"That sounds interesting. What's up?" she asked, sauntering over to the desk.
He explained the call from Sam. Max frowned. "What makes you so sure someone isn't following Maria?" she asked.
"Who would care, Max? Our friend the warden was what the old-timers call a two-bit hack. I'm surprised they even bothered to prosecute his people."
She thought it over for a minute, then shrugged. "If you say so." He definitely had the feeling she planned to make up her own mind about it. As usual. Then she grinned. "A couple of days on the farm sounds great. Normal's too depressed to care whether I show up right now anyway. What time should I be here?"
"Be here? Oh. No. I'm not going."
"What, you're blowing them off again? I thought you said they were 'dear friends' of yours."
"They are." Why did she always make him feel so flustered? "I just have a lot of work and --"
"Yeah, work. Well, suit yourself. Just hand over my oil and I'll be on the road in no time -- What?" she broke off, watching him suspiciously.
Oh no. No, no, no. That was the bad thing about the bike. He'd promised Max a case of oil today as payment for a little favor. That's what she was doing here. She had come to pick up the oil. Which he did not have, because he had been too busy working to remember.
Seeing his face, Max gasped. "You didn't! Tell me you did not!"
"Max, I'm really sorry, I spent all day --"
"You promised!" She was really angry, and he couldn't blame her. She grabbed the telephone from the desk and thrust it at him. "Call somebody. Do it right now," she commanded. Meekly Logan dialed the number of the garage. No answer, of course.
"Listen." She leaned forward until her sweet-smelling dark hair was inches from his face. "I'll be back here at 3 PM tomorrow. You have twenty-four hours to get that oil for me, 'cause I'm spending tomorrow night in the country." With a last glare she was out the door, which slammed resoundingly behind her.
Well, at least for now he wouldn't have to worry about keeping his distance from her.