Title: Breaking the Ice

Part: 1/5

Fandom: Dark Angel

Pairing: Max/Logan

Rating: NC17/M

Timeline: Mid Season 2

Summary: Needing some place safe, Max heads to the penthouse during her first heat back in Seattle. Virus Included.

Author's Note: Playing around on the Wayback Time Machine, found my old website with a bunch of old fics I'd never posted to my profile here. I figured before they're lost to the world, I'd add them to my profile... written circa 2001, not sure why I never posted it back then when the rest of my Dark Angel stuff is up here.. but oh well - I may not be 25 any more, but hey, the story still held up when I read it tonight. Hope y'all enjoy.

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Breaking the Ice
Part One

The time had come. Max had been dreading her first heat cycle back in Seattle after the whole blow up with the virus and the addition of Rafer, Alec and Asha into the disastrously screwed up drama that was her life. And yet, here she stood, her body trembling from head to foot, her core burning and damp from thought alone, her head spinning and stomach churning.

She paced her apartment, starting in her room until she decided that staring at her warm, rumpled bed wasn't going to bring her peace of mind. She paced her living room, until she realized that every last trinket Logan had given her over the years was screaming silently for her to go to him. She took a cold shower, until the cool streams of water turned into Logan's cool fingers and her body heated once more.

She was burning up, and she had nowhere to go.

Her eyes flicked to her phone and she thought about calling Rafer, but doing that to him twice in a lifetime was more than she could handle. The last time she gave into her heat and boffed Rafer brainless, she'd ended up in her shower, her heart breaking as she realized exactly what she'd done to Logan. Logan'd been caring enough to forgive her, and claimed he understood, but to repeat such a blatant betrayal even in the current state of their relationship would be the end of everything. Rafer was completely, totally out of the question.

She moved to the window and stared out, switching her weight tensely from foot to foot. Alec was out there somewhere, and Max had no doubt that he'd take great pleasure in helping her through her cycle, but then he'd never let her live it down afterward. Ten years from then, if she let Alec live that long, he'd still be throwing it in her face that she needed him because the other men in her life were at the moment useless. Max could put up with a lotta shit from the people around her, but giving Alec further ammunition in his already too full bag was more than she could stomach.

Some nameless hotboy off the streets was no longer an option, either. Max had come to the conclusion on that last night with Rafer, that if it came down to her death or her seeing that look of hurt on Logan's face again, she'd gladly plummet from the tallest building, no strings attached.

She had no choice. Original Cindy had hooked up with a lickety chick from Crash and hadn't come home, so Max had no one to watch her back. Work was out of the question cause Max knew she'd end up riding Sketchy, Normal or Alec for all they were worth ten minutes after walking through the door. She needed to get out of the apartment before someone knocked on her door to borrow something and found themselves with a hell of a lot more than they bargained for. There was only one place she could go and know that even if she didn't want it, she'd be safe.

Her baby knew the roads as if she too had a heart and was leading Max towards safety. There was no wobble in her balance, no delay in her acceleration, no escape from the thrum of her body between Max's legs. She led Max unerringly towards Logan, towards the one man that couldn't help her, couldn't do more than keep her contained, couldn't bring about regrets.

Max was dressed in a pair of Cindy's overalls, probably the safest piece of clothing she could find. With all the straps and buckles, not to mention buttons, she'd have a hell of a time getting out of her clothes quickly. Time enough to ease in some measure of rational thought. She only had a black tank top on underneath of the overalls, and her black leather jacket thrown on over top. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid that lay lightly over her shoulder, and military boots covered her feet. All in all, she felt it was safe to ride the tiny, too warm lift up to Logan's penthouse. She felt it was safe to sit in his cozy living room, watching him do his every night things, knowing no matter how bad it hurt, she couldn't use him to satisfy her needs.

Not wanting to end up having to pass him when he opened the door, Max picked the lock silently and walked into the penthouse. Once inside, however, she groaned. The sound of feminine laughter arose from the living room making Max's stomach turn. /She just has to be here. The one time I *needed* Logan alone, the wannabe bitch just HAS to be here!/ Max plastered a fake smile onto her face and leaned against the doorframe, trying to appear relaxed.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join in?"

Logan looked up and smiled at her slightly. "Hey, Max."

Now more than ever, Logan's return to the casual was like a slap in the face. Ever since she got back, he'd been reserved. She rarely was the recipient of one of his mind numbing smiles, those blue eyes of his never sparkled for her anymore, and, God, did she miss the feel of his fingers on her skin. She'd trade her soul for one real smile, and the whisper of his touch as he brushed her hair out of her face. Instead, she faced brick walls of protection, snapped words, and luke warm greetings.

Life sucked.

"Logan. Asha. Am I interrupting?" Max's eyes trailed to the half empty wine glasses and recently used plates that decorated Logan's coffee table.

Logan stood and softly licked his lips. "Uh, not at all. Actually, Asha was just leaving, right?" He turned to look at the blonde, his expression unreadable.

Asha paused, blinking at the obvious dismissal Logan had just tossed at her feet. Her eyes blazed hurt and jealousy as she gathered her belongings and pushed her way past Max.

"Later, Asha." Max carefully kept the callous victory she felt coursing through her body from showing on her face, but the blonde was more than aware of the feeling.

"Max."

Max waited only seconds after the door had closed before making her way deeper into Logan's living room. He had begun clearing away the evidence of his dinner with Asha, raising his eyebrow at Max's flushed skin as he passed her by.

"What can I do for you, Max?" He asked, quietly, as he returned and settled into a chair across from her.

/Ever read Karma Sutra? Baby, you can start on page one and work your way through./

Max smiled and shrugged, concentrating on taking slow, even breaths as she watched his tongue moisten his lips. "Cindy's got a girl, Sketchy 'n Alec are suddenly best buds, and Rafer's on duty or some shit tonight. Thought maybe you'd want some company that didn't have blonde hair."

Logan sighed. "You really don't like Asha, do you?"

Again Max shrugged. "Girl rubs me wrong, but it's no big." /Anyway *you* wanna rub me would be perfect./

"We've never really spoken about her. Or Rafer." Logan refused to meet her gaze, instead turning to look out his darkened window.

"Is there anything to say?" Max shifted, biting her lip as her eyes focused on Logan's neck, wondering exactly what sounds would slip past his beautiful lips if she were to trail little nibbling kisses from his jaw to his adam's apple.

"You know we have to talk about this sometime. Not just Asha and Rafer, but all of it. The way we've been treating each other. The virus. Our life."

Max's hands slid down her sides to rest on her thighs, gripping her legs tightly as she ground her teeth to keep from crawling into Logan's lap. "'Till this bitch is kicked, what's the sense? Isn't gonna make a difference if I say Rafer is just a hotboy 'n he doesn't mean a damn thing to me, 'cause when I should be out with him, or thinking about him, the only thing on my mind is sneaking over here, crawling into your bed and waking you up with a kiss you'd never forget."

Logan swallowed hard and finally turned back to meet her burning gaze. "Max?"

"So tell me, Logan, if you really want to hash this out. How does Asha compare to Max? When you hear your door opening do you hope it's the blonde, or do you hope it's me?" She leaned forward, watching him closely, softly pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she waited for his response.

"I spent a lot of time wishing you'd walk through that door while you were gone." He cleared his throat. "That hasn't changed."

"Then why the 'tude?"

"Would you rather I spend every day telling you how much I want to hold you? Kiss you? Make love to you until you scream my name?" His eyes flew up as a low growl met his ears and he realized her brown eyes had darkened to a near black, and her breathing was coming in short gasps. His tongue darted out once again, and again he heard her gasp and growl. It struck him then. "Oh, shit."

"Keep talkin', Logan."

"Max, why are you here?"

She lifted an eyebrow and leaned back on a sigh. "I think you already know. Now talk to me."

"Say the words first."

She groaned and ran a hand through her hair. "Goddamnit! Why do you always have to be so stubborn?"

"Say them!"

She met the intensity of his gaze, and her throat issued an unnamable sound. "I'm in heat again, okay?"

He groaned and shook his head, his eyes filling with pain. "Why did you come here?"

She snapped, climbing to her feet and pacing the room as she repeatedly ran her fingers through her hair. She spun once, then again, trying to choose a direction that didn't lead towards Logan, and danger. She collapsed back onto the sofa when she realized that pacing wasn't going to solve her problems. When she spoke her voice was ice cold, tinged by sharp desperation. "I needed some place safe! I don't want to screw us up 'cause Manticore got giddy 'n wanted me on my hands and knees six days a year! 'N since I can't do anything without killing you no matter how bad I wanna fuck that stupid grin off your face, I'm gonna sit here and you're gonna damn well tell me every last thing you wanna do to me, or I'm gonna end up goin' out there 'n making a big goddamn mistake! So unless you want me banging the gong with Rafer fifteen minutes from now, SAY SOMETHING!"

He watched her chest rise and fall with the force of her exclamation, listened to her breathing run heavy past her lips, and smothered a groan at the dark burning that clouded her longing gaze. "Talking about what we can't do isn't going to help you, Max."

A half frustrated, half disgusted look crossed her face, and she laid back on the sofa, covering her eyes. "You're not going to help me?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying, Logan? 'Cause my brain's a little screwed at the moment, 'n you'll have to forgive me when I can't put your male minded babbles into coherent sentences."

"Would you like something to eat or drink?"

She blinked, lowering her arm to see him standing over her. "Huh?"

"I'm going to help you, but we're going to sit back and think this over rationally. You need a shower. I need a drink. Do you want me to make you something in the meantime?"

"Fine. Whatever." Max climbed to her feet and stormed into his bathroom, turning the shower on and stripping down frantically. When she stepped under the water she hissed, the icy coldness of the liquid making her gasp and jump, but she forced herself to remain submerged. The cold water sluiced down over her body, cooling off the burning in her blood, sharpening her fog-encased mind.

/What are you doing, Max?/ She rested her head against the cool tiles of the shower wall, ignoring the shivers running through her body. /We're beating our heads against the walls we've built and all we're doing is damaging ourselves. You gotta get outta here girl, before he hates you for life./

A little voice whispered to her that if he truly loved her he'd understand and accept what she needed from him in the next 48 hours.

/But whoever said Logan loved me? Not Logan, that's for sure./

"Max?"

She sighed as his voice carried past the closed door.

"What?"

"When you've cooled down enough, I've left a few sandwiches and a bottle of wine on the kitchen table. I need to finish a broadcast, and then we'll talk again."

/Talk. All we ever do is talk, Logan. When are we going to act?/

"Whatever."

She took her time climbing out of the shower, whimpering softly as she dried herself off, the slight roughness of the towel making her gasp as it rubbed against her too sensitive skin. She moved slowly, dragging out the process as long as possible, enjoying the lesser feelings of arousal that she knew would soon be full fledged flames once again. Heat or not, her body always caught fire as soon as she set eyes on Logan Cale.

Wrapped only in the towel, Max moved into Logan's bedroom. To hell with the overalls and buttons and clasps. There was nothing she could do with Logan, so she may as well be comfortable. Digging through his drawers, she pulled out one of his old sweatshirts and a pair of boxers, slipping into the worn clothing, and taking his scent in deeply.

She rested on the corner of his bed, calming her breathing for long minutes, before Max found the strength to walk into the next room. She could hear the sound of typing coming from Logan's study, but instead she turned for the kitchen. She knew that Logan meant safety, but for now she wasn't eager to continue the conversation they'd started earlier. He was right; talking about what they couldn't do only served to rev her up and leave her hanging. That's not what she wanted or needed from him. Not then, not ever.

It took a moment before she realized that she was there out of comfort as much as safety; even if she spent forty of the next forty-eight hours under a stream of cold water, it would be worth it. At the penthouse she could keep control. There would be no temptation, no betrayal, and no irreversible harm. She'd be true to Logan, even if it killed them both in the process.

~~~TBC~~~