Disclaimer: This is simple…these character ain't mine, and never will be. I'm 'a' getting' nothin' for this story, aiight?

Summary: Max, with help from OC, finally decides to deal with her strong feelings for Logan, no matter how scared she may be. (Max POV)

Rating: G (the crowd gasps)

I hardly even notice the beating, freezing rain pounding down on the roof of Logan's penthouse as we engage in an intense game of chess. Well, the game itself isn't intense, but rather my feelings and merely being in a candlelit room with this beautiful, sensual man. These past few months, I've wanted to quietly walk over to him in that chair during a game or movie and just kiss the sense out of him. I'm not sure if this is love or compassion or a very strong feeling of friendship, but I'm enjoying it, whatever it may be. Sometimes I wish I were in heat, just so that I could muster up the courage to tell him how I feel or act upon it. I've also being loving brownouts more than ever, because of the way the dark a little streaks of light play upon Logan's features. I'm silently thankful for the unreliable electricity, because I've been staring at him ever since I walked in that door. His sparkling crystal blue eyes shin brilliantly in the candlelight when he thinks that he has me cornered, though he knows that I always win no matter what the circumstances. Logan seems to be teasing me, the way he darts his tongue out everyone in a great while to wet his lips. His hands come to rest on the table oh so close to mine that I just want to lay mine upon his and never let go. His well built arm muscles disappear under his rolled up sweater and I see them working every time he moves his arm. I jump from my fantasy as I realize that I have just won. I declare "Checkmate," and push away from the table to stand up. I walk over to the window to see if the weather has changed, missing my opportunity to watch him put a hand up to his lips, attempting to find a way out of the situation.

"Alright, you got me again," he admits, "Do you want something to drink?" I nod slowly, still searching out the window for something to tell me my feelings will sort out soon and everything will be all right. As he rolls into the kitchen, I hear him utter something about some pre-pulse wine.

"Sounds great," I say, knowing that I'll entirely love anything he chooses. I suddenly become aware of his strong cologne and soap smell coming toward me.

"Are you hungry? I can whip up a Cale family favorite if you want…"

"Naw, that's fine. Original Cindy took me out to a spanking new club earlier tonight. I grabbed a bite there." I walk over to where he's settled himself and the glasses of wine on the kitchen table. I take the glass that he's set in front of my, holding it up to the light to admire the deep crimson color. "So, what is this stuff?"

He takes his glass, brings it up to his full lips to sip it, and replys, "It's a favorite of mine I used to have all the time… crimson Pinot Noir from France. I smuggled a truckload after I visited there a few years before the pulse. It's a little different from what you're used to, but you'll like it." Logan gently smells the liquid and takes a much anticipated sip, while closing his eyes. It looks to me that it's as good as he remembers, because he sighs heavily. He opens his eyes again to watch me, his lips wet from the wine. I watch him lick the corners of his mouth, savoring the last little tastes from his sip. I wish I were that wine.

I imitate his actions, and take a hesitant sip, preparing myself for the worst. Instead, I'm greeted with an explosion of taste that I can't quite put my finger on. I also close my eyes, feeling the rich taste burrow further within me. I open my eyes again, and see Logan has already finished his glass, as have I. "I'm guessing you like it," he smiles, teasingly."

"Logan, I've never tasted anything so delicious in my life." We finish off the bottle, just chatting about nothing important, but enjoying ourselves, nonetheless.

Logan excuses himself to the kitchen to dispose of the bottle and clean out the glasses. Smiling to myself, I wander over to the window. Suddenly I feel my pager go off. I look down to see who interrupted my blissful thoughts. "Logan? Can I use your phone really quick?" I know I don't really need to ask, but I've learned that Logan loves to be polite and it's contagious.

"Sure, help yourself." I pick up the phone and dial the all too familiar number.

"Hey, boo, what's kickin'?" I ask Original Cindy as she picks up the phone.

"Nuttin much, really. I jus' wanted ta see if you're comin home tonight."

I sigh heavily into the phone so she could hear my level of annoyance, "You should know by now that I never really do anything with uh…you know…when I say I will."

"Uh-huh. Got that figured out nicely. But, seriously, if roller boy means that much to ya, let him know subtly whatcha feelin's are."

"I've got somethin' up my sleeve my sister. Don'tcha worry."

"Original Cindy worries even more when ya say things like tat. Tell me all tomorra, aiight?"

"Who's my home girl? Course I would. Gotta blaze."

"Aiight."

I hang up the phone with a little smile twitching at the corners of my mouth. Maybe she was right. But the Manticore teachings in my blood keep telling me to split, to run from this feeling I'm now calling love, and to never become attached to anyone, at least emotionally. Too late. I was attracted to him the moment he spoke. Something created a link, a bond between us. So many events tell me now that I was right to think that that first day. The dream we shared, or seemed to share, is a huge hint.

Suddenly I notice that it's not raining anymore and stride on over to the window. I gasp at the sight before me. It's snowing. I realize that I've never seen snow, never felt what it's like. I hear Logan rolling out of the kitchen, saying something about watching a movie later, but I don't take notice. I'm mesmerized by this simple act of nature. He trys to get my attention, knowing that I'm not listening to a word he's speaking, "Max?" I merely point out the window. He comes up right beside me and places a hand on my arm, causing me to momentarily shudder at the contact. "It hardly ever snows anymore." Logan states matter-of-factly.

"I-I've never seen snow before. It's childish, but I've always wanted to."

"It's not childish…I forgot how comforting snow is."

"Uh-huh." We stand there for what seems like an eternity just taking in the simplicity of the action and enjoying the closeness of each other. Something sends a spark through me, and I remember my conversation with Original Cindy, and my promise to her that I'd move forward. Suddenly inspired, I ask Logan, "Do you want to take a stroll through the park?"

He looks up at me, questioning why I'd want to spend more time with him. But his pity suddenly changes into glee and he says, smiling sexily, "Yeah, I'd like that. But, are you going to be warm enough? I have something you can change into."

I look at my attire of a black tank top and leather pants, "I probably should…"

"Just go ahead at help yourself. I think I've got a few things in there that I accidentally shrunk. They should fit you…"

I walk into his bedroom and search through his closet to find something, and finally choose a small red sweater. I'm instantly enveloped in the smell of Logan and I relish it for a moment before returning to the main room. He's by the door with his sexy leather jacket on and his hair ruffled in different places. My breath catches in my throat at the way he looks at me, and the way I know I'm looking at him. My heart beats faster, and I use all my will power not to just swing open that door and have my legs swiftly carry me away to a place that's uncomplicated. But I don't. I know what I have to do tonight, and nothing will stand in the way of that.

Once at the park, I sit on a bench and Logan pulls himself out of his chair to sit next to me. He hardly ever does that, and I wonder what prompts him to do so now, but I don't dare ask, for I'm already on edge as it is. I scoot so that our shoulders are touching. He tilts his head back and sticks his tongue out to catch some soft flakes. I do the same, and am filled with a sort of child-like wonder. "I wonder why people dread snow so much, Logan." I shiver a little from the cold and lean my head bravely on his shoulder. He reaches an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to keep me warm.

"I think it's because people hate to be cold."

"I don't think it's so bad." He looks down at me smiling and knowing what I meant by my comment. I'm filled with excitement as I realize that things aren't going so bad after all. I glance across the street at some children that are forming the snow into little balls and tossing them at each other. I stand up and sit on my hams next to the snow, and though I miss Logan's warmth I can't wait to throw my first snowball. I have my back to him, but I'm sure he knows what I'm planning. I hear him getting back into his chair. I turn around and softly toss a little snowball toward his torso. He laughs, unable to dodge it. We playfully toss snow at each other as the snow falls a little rougher with each passing minute. I realize just how cold I am as we once again make our way back to the bench, both out of breath. "I've never had so much fun, and you're right, snow is comforting…"

"Things are so quiet when it snows, listen."

I slow my breathing and listen to nothing. "It wonderful to get away from the stresses of life sometimes, Logan. And it usually happens when I'm with you."

Logan once again encircles my shoulders and brings me closer, shivering himself. He softly kisses the top of my head. I look into his eyes and lashes that are painted with snowflakes and see love, desire and passion within them. For the first time, I am not afraid of what my feelings will prompt me to do, or what will become of us after. I just know that I want this man so desperately that I want to cry. That part scares me, I've never cried over anyone before. Before I lose my nerve, I quickly close the gap between us and center all my frustrations about our relationship on his luscious lips. My fingers entwine in Logan's rumpled hair, and for a moment, I know I have caught him off guard.

I smile into the kiss, and then realize that he's kissing me back with more passion than I have ever known. His hands find their way to my waist, and he's pulling me even closer to him. We break away, both craving oxygen. Logan just looks at me for a while, considering what to say about my actions. "What was that for?"

As much as I want to kiss him again to avert his question, I know he wants an answer, and deserves one. "For everything. Giving me friendship, trust, showing me your weaknesses, and accepting mine…dealing with my flaws from my DNA, having patience and letting me sort out my feelings for you myself. And…f-for loving me."

"Thank you Max…forever I've needed you to say something such as that. I love you with all my being." He initiates another, softer kiss, filled with more friendship than love. "We better get out of this cold…" He lifts himself with ease into his chair and as we begin to make our way back to his penthouse. I wish I could hold his hand and walk off into the night, but we're different, somehow. I know we'll never be like the couples I see on television or sappy pre-pulse movies, but this is real life. I like our relationship the way it is, anyhow.

"Logan, it's taken me so long to express my emotions, and I'm sorry…"

He looks a me for a second, smiling, then faces forward again, replying, "And what sweet emotions they are too, Max."

~FIN~