Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel and nobody has ever offered to pay me for any of this.
This story is lovingly dedicated to Griever on her birthday, because she is now officially old enough to read stories on the M page. (Sorry about sticking a little bit of a plot in there, I couldn't help it.)
Haven
The highway seemed to go on forever. The sky was pitch black and there was nothing to look at except for the endless expanses of evergreens that were illuminated by the tow truck's headlights and the raindrops that slid furiously across the windshield until they were violently flung aside by the wiper blades. "We'll be in Port Charlotte in about ten more minutes," the driver assured his passengers, who looked just as weary as they felt.
Logan merely nodded and tightened his grip around Max's shoulder in a brief hug, willing her to hold on a little bit longer. The worst of the seizures had ended, but slight tremors still worked through her body, and Logan could feel her shuddering against his side as they sat crammed together in a seat not quite big enough for two. She slumped against him throughout most of the drive, which seemed like it might go on forever.
They had asked the driver to take them all the way to Seattle, but the he had patiently and repeatedly explained that he could not. There was a repair shop in Port Charlotte that could handle the work on Logan's car in the morning, and they would be able to go anywhere they liked after that, but the driver had neither the precious gas to take them all the way to the city in the middle of the night, nor any means of getting any that late. He also didn't have a pass to get into the city during the riot lockdown or any guarantee that he would be able to get out again if they did let him in. And the driver didn't say it out loud, but it was obvious he didn't want to get too far away from home with a couple whose car hadn't so much broken down as gotten hit by stray bullets. So even though Logan had offered to compensate the man for his time and expense, they eventually were forced to accept that they were bound exclusively for Port Charlotte Auto Repair.
Exhausted, filthy, and reeking of smoke, at that point they were too far gone to fight it. They would have to settle for getting far, far away from Cape Haven.
"I don't suppose there's a decent hotel in this town, is there?"
"Nope, no hotel anymore. But there's a sort of boarding house behind the diner. You can probably get a real good rate on that room, seeing as they won't be able to rent it out this late...if there's nobody in it already, that is."
With that bleak prospect in their future, the minutes dragged by until they reached their stopping point. Port Charlotte was an old town, with red brick buildings lining the square and once proud Victorian homes hiding in their shadows. A hill protected the town from the worst of the gusty winds that blew across the bay, but the smell of the ocean was always heavy in the air. It had been a small, quiet town for the last hundred years, and would probably go on being that for the next hundred, even though it was obvious they hadn't been spared the effects of The Pulse any better than the next town. But they had a mechanic, and they just might have a bed, and that was good enough for Max and Logan as the truck pulled to a stop in front of an old garage.
In a haze, they spilled out of the tow truck, gathered their possessions and followed the driver into town where he kindly accompanied them to negotiate a rate for the use of the back room overnight with the diner owner who lived over his establishment. When they settled on a price, Logan peeled off some bills and inquired about buying milk, thinking Max could use the extra dose of tryptophan to help her get through the night. The owner looked at him like he was crazy, but still overcharged him for a quart before showing them to the "guest hotel", which was really nothing more than a refitted back office dressed up to look like a cheap motel room. It was cramped and mismatched, but it was easily accessible and private and warm, and at that point, they just wanted shelter.
Once they were alone, Max flopped on the bed and began gulping milk straight from the carton while Logan moved their bags and inspected the room. "Please tell me there's a bathroom," she pleaded. "I'd do anything for a hot shower right now."
"There is a bathroom, and apparently all we have to do to enjoy it is install our own water heater. Ice cold," he informed her.
"Sucks," Max muttered before finishing off her milk. She licked her lips and took a deep, steadying breath, and it was like she could feel the chemicals in her brain begin to stabilize. It was the first chance she had to feel safe since things got bad in Cape Haven, and as she continued to take deep breaths, trying to calm herself down and allowing more of her surroundings to come into focus around her.
Logan continued to fidget around the room, still too affected by his lingering adrenaline to completely relax, his mind replaying scattered scenes from that night's confrontation. After a few more minutes of oblivious restlessness, he realized that Max was staring at him intently with an unreadable expression on her face. "Don't worry, I'll make a bed on the floor," Logan assured her, interpreting her look as concern over their awkward sleeping arrangements.
Completely ignoring the remark about the bed, she asked, "Logan, why are you moving like that?"
"Huh?" He sounded like he didn't really want her to elaborate.
"Your arms. You're moving funny. What's wrong with you?"
"Oh. It's nothing, Max. Don't worry about it."
"What's wrong with you?" she repeated, and this time her no-nonsense voice was back, louder and with an unspoken threat of violence towards anyone who didn't give her a direct answer.
"Just a little bruised." He knew she wasn't about to let it go, so he tried to play it down instead. "I always forget how much getting shot hurts." He saw that unavoidable look of horror he knew he wouldn't avoid and added, "It's alright, Max. I was wearing a vest."
"You got shot?" she questioned, appalled. How far gone had she been that not only had she needed Logan to fight off the bad guys for her, but she had never even noticed that he took a hit in the process? Sometimes she hated her manufactured body with its defective craftsmanship. Could there have been a worse time to get the shakes?
He had certainly come through for her though. She had passed out after hearing the shots, and by the time she came to, Logan was leaning over her, patting her cheek and awkwardly trying to drag her outside into the fresh air. She barely caught a glimpse of dead bodies and booby traps through the lingering smoke before he got her out the door and she stumbled out into the yard in time to watch the fires die out and wonder what the hell had happened while she was down. He had done all that to take care of her while she was unable to take care of herself, and it had been a long time since Max had been able to depend on anyone like that. It was like he was part of her unit…like he was her family.
And he had never once mentioned getting shot at, let alone hit.
"Logan, taking a cap in the chest isn't something you just fail to mention. A vest might stop a bullet from killing you, but it doesn't make the force of impact all soft and fluffy. You might have broken ribs or even internal bleeding, and there's no way in hell we can get you an ambulance out here in the great wide open…it was hard enough getting a tow truck. You better let me look at it. Come here."
"Max, really, I'm fine. It's just a little sore."
"Yeah, you be macho and hemorrhage to death. Good plan. C'mon, Logan, just take your shirt off and let me see."
Because it wasn't worth it to fight her, and because it did hurt like hell despite his protests, Logan shrugged off his jacket and moved to sit next to Max on the edge of the bed before he unbuttoned his shirt. She raised her eyebrows at the dark bruise that had formed on his skin, trying not to think about what would have happened if that bullet had been six inches higher. She felt along his chest with gentle fingers, tracing the outline of the mark and looking for signs of additional damage, satisfying herself that nothing was hurt beyond repair.
Logan watched her face as she examined him, her brow knit in concentration as she felt along his rib cage, and the last remnants of Logan's nervous restlessness faded away with her calming touch. She was so close, and he was so relieved that she was safe. Everything about her made him happy, and for the first time in a long time, those thoughts weren't accompanied with thoughts of 'if only' or filled with regret. Lingering self-pity had faded away and been replaced by a new found self-confidence, and the daydreams that he had forced himself to forget the day Dr. Vertes died were once again in the forefront of his mind.
He saw another wave of tiny tremors ripple through Max's frame, and he reached out to steady her. She peered up into his face and saw his acute stare, and her breath caught at the heated emotion that was apparent in his eyes. They watched each other intently as he continued to hold her after the seizure subsided and she let her hands linger on his chest longer than was strictly necessary. Finally she said, "Looks okay, but you should probably get some ice on it."
He softly smiled down at her, slowly letting his arms fall away but still holding her in his gaze. "Sure, the ice maker is probably right next to the water heater."
She smiled but stayed close to him, feeling like there was still something to be said, something missing that could only be mentioned in these rare, honest moments between them before some distraction came along and broke that connection. "Logan, I'm sorry you had to go through all that for me… killing those men, risking your life. I know that must have been hard for you…" She looked away, unsure of how to continue, how to express her feeling for what he had done to protect her, but the words sounded stupid in her ears and she knew she wasn't saying it right.
His fingers tipped her chin up until she met his eyes, once more caught up by the hunger and passion she saw there. She saw the love that they had always tried so hard to ignore as they struggled with their pride and fear and insecurities. "To keep you safe when you needed me? I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Max." And with a confidence he didn't have before, he leaned in and kissed her.
It was like the world around them ceased to exist. He wasn't aware of anything but the feel of her warm, soft lips pressing into his and she only wanted to get as close to him as humanly possible. She felt herself being drawn into his chest and her arms enveloped his waist, pulling him against her. His hands moved on their own accord, brushing against her cheeks and wandering into her hair, and what had begun as a tentative kiss quickly spiraled into an inferno fueled by their emotions that had been pent up for far too long.
His hands found their way under her shirt, caressing her smooth, hot skin. Max pulled back slightly before she leaned in to nip at his bottom lip, drawing it into her mouth and raking her hands all the way down his back and Logan felt control slip away a little more with each second that the kiss raged on. He mustered his strength while he still had it to pull a few inches away from her. His voice was low as he murmured in her ear, "Max? Are you sure?"
She looked at him and grinned and nodded, then slowly pulled her shirt away before leaning in to kiss him again. She pressed her body tightly to his, letting him know just how badly she wanted this, and she smiled when he clutched at her back, pulling her closer still and she knew that he wanted her just as badly.
He nipped at her neck and she arched into his touch and let out a soft moan, and he repeated the action just so he could hear her make that sound again. She pushed him back against the mattress and kissed his collarbone and chest, and the feel of her long hair sweeping across his body made him grab fistfuls of the blankets beneath him before he pulled her back to him for another demanding kiss. Logan basked in the feeling of her warm, strong body pressed against his, and he was content to stay like that and kiss her until the world ended. And if it did, he was cool with that too.
Her hands worked to free him of his pants and somehow in the frenzy of kissing and touching and feeling and closeness, the last of their clothing had disappeared, but Max felt like she still wasn't getting enough of him. She wanted total and complete possession as she climbed over his hips and pressed her body against his, not wanting to lose a moment of her skin touching his.
He arched to meet her, and as they joined, his eyes burned into hers, dark with desire. The way he looked at her, Max could tell he wanted her more than anything, and not just this, but everything about her. It was a look that made her feel like Logan was the only one who really knew her, and it completely captured her. She had never felt so connected to anyone before in her life. They held that ardent stare as they moved together, gazing into the others' eyes until sensations or emotions got to be too intense to handle and they had to close their eyes or look away for relief, but they always sought each other out again, afraid to lose their precious connection with each other.
They moved together slowly, his hands on her hips guiding her before they traveled up her body to caress her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders, and down her back again. He watched her body rise and fall over him until he felt her tense and start to shudder, and she threw herself forward, moaning against his lips and quickening her pace. Logan grabbed her hips again, letting go of what was left of his control, forcing her to him as her world shattered into a million tiny pieces and she felt like her body was exploding. She was pure heat and pressure all around him, and just when he thought he couldn't take anymore of her sweet torture, she crushed her lips to his, annihilating coherent thought and doubling his heart rate, and he joined her over the edge. She did it to him with just a kiss.
Max carefully collapsed to one side, resting her head against Logan's chest and listening to his heartbeat as his hands softly played in her hair. She felt like she should say something, but she didn't want to ruin the wonderful feeling of closeness with the wrong words, so she just closed her eyes and held him, feeling still and safe and sleepy for the first time in a long time. She would tell him when she thought of it.
Logan felt Max relax into sleep beside him and looked out the window. He stared at the scattered clouds and the pre-dawn sky and quietly sighed. Worry had started to creep around the edges of his mind, and insecurity followed him like a powerful shadow. He had always been so careful not to push Max's emotional boundaries, and feared that they had taken a step that had the power to destroy the fragile connections they had worked so hard to build together. Unconsciously shifting to gather her closer to him, he wondered what he could say or do to keep her with him the eternity that he wanted.
"Logan?" Max's sleepy voice drew him from his thoughts.
"Yes, Max?"
"It's all good." Max whispered softly. How had she known where his mind had gone? "It's all really, really good."
And as they finally drifted off to sleep, it really, really was.