The Crash Challenge: Logan's POV 5
Author's Note: My thanks to the Writer's Pulse Group, without whom this story would just be a cool idea that never came to fruition. There's been a lot of great creativity here, folks.
And thank you, Shywr1ter, for giving this the once over and posting it on my behalf.
Cheers!
Mouse :)
Trial By Fire
By lilmouse"True love is friendship – caught on fire."
Unknown
He checked his watch once they were through the back entrance and in Crash proper: 9:20. Running later than they'd planned but Max didn't seem bothered by it. He noticed Original Cindy separate herself from the crowd and approach, as if she'd been watching for them. And maybe she had been. Logan shrugged mentally. It would figure that Cindy would be in on his visit if Max wanted to be sure he would feel more comfortable. At least he knew Cindy. She was a good friend for Max and he had witnessed the woman's loyalty with that whole prison incident. He could handle 'hanging' with Original Cindy for an evening.
It took a few minutes but they made it to the bar. He tried to relax but was still on edge about being here. The bartender was the same one Logan had talked to on that day he'd tracked Max down - how long ago was it? Four months now? The guy didn't raise an eyebrow at the wheelchair. He took the orders with a smile and an efficiency that would put bartenders at more posh locations to shame. It was crowded, which wasn't unexpected, but there were so many people, running the full spectrum of cultural and economic backgrounds.
And he had to look up at all of them.
He knew he was running his free hand along his leg. It was a nervous gesture he'd acquired along with the chair and the special parking spot. His palms were sweaty and he hated his own reaction. He wasn't this nervous sitting in his car at the docks at two-in-the-morning, running a trace on a wire tap he had set up on a drug dealer.
Damn.
"Hey, Logan, you play pool?"
Original Cindy had spoken - well, shouted a bit. On the large screen behind her, another racecar crashed into the barrier and a group of viewers roared their approval or dismay, money changing hands.
"I haven't in a while," he answered noncommittally. He'd envisioned this possibility but was still surprised that it might actually occur. Cindy smirked, her eyes challenging. She wasn't mocking him at all. He guessed she'd noticed his discomfort and was trying to give him something to focus on.
"Good, because Original Cindy likes to win." She hooked her arm around Logan's shoulder and started leading him to a pool table. He quickly placed his glass between his legs and used both hands to wheel himself across the floor. No one was going to push Logan Cale. "It ain't no fun playing with Max," she continued amiably, as if they were old friends. Cindy was good at this whole 'embrace the moment' philosophy he'd heard Bling mention. "Girl's too damn coordinated for her own good, if you ask me." Logan glanced over his shoulder to see if the 'girl' in question was following. Max smiled at him and he managed to smile before returning to the task of negotiating the furniture.
Didn't stop him from looking back a few times, just to be sure.
Cindy racked the balls and handed Logan a pool cue. "You wanna break?"
The fingers of the man who shot me in the spine? Absolutely.
Logan gave a small shrug. He placed the cue across his lap and wheeled himself into the corner away from the crowd. He locked the brakes and took another sip of his beer. "You go ahead," he indicated to her with a small wave of his hand.
"Aiight." Cindy leaned over the table to break, sinking one solid. She lined up her second shot and smiled as she landed that one, too. It appeared that the lady knew what she was doing when it came to pool: another aspect of the evening that wasn't a complete surprise to Logan. Her third shot was a miss, and she stepped back from the table to make room for him.
Running a positive mantra in his head that sounded suspiciously like something 'The Little Engine That Could' would be saying in regards to a steep hill, Logan drained half his beer in a long swallow and placed his glass on a nearby table. His throat felt better already. He unlocked his brakes and wheeled closer, studying the table with the strategist's approach he'd implemented during his college years. It worked with chess so why not pool? He'd been a force to be reckoned with back then and had made a bit of money playing with his frequently over-confident classmates.
Let's see if you've still got it, Cale.
He turned his chair parallel to the table and lined up his first shot. He was aware that Max and Cindy were simultaneously leaning closer and seemed to be holding their breath. He allowed himself a small grin and he sunk his first ball with ease. His peripheral vision caught Cindy's raised eyebrow and Max's smile but he pretended not to see it. Don't get distracted or you'll lose. He moved around the table to make his second shot, which also caused the ball to roll smoothly into the pocket. He followed with a more complicated bank shot that succeeded in taking another striped ball from the table. Both Cindy and Max seemed impressed.
"Nice shot!" Max called out. Logan gave her a small smile before moving on to take aim again. Yet another ball left the table. He leaned back in the chair and allowed his smile to grow as he reached for his glass. Take no prisoners, Cale.
"Damn! Rich boys can play pool! And here I thought you was all about water polo an' badminton an' all that." Logan laughed and shook his head. "Original Cindy stands corrected. Did Max explain to you how we play here? How the winner always buys the next round of drinks?"
Logan pursed his lips and frowned slightly, knowing he was being had and letting it happen. "Winner buys?" he asked, playing along by pretending to be confused. "That doesn't sound like much of a prize."
"But it's a tradition, right, Max?" Max quickly nodded a confirmation, looking particularly angelic.
God, she's so beautiful -He smiled at Max and her grin broadened. She looked happy and relaxed. Logan couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her so -
"Logan, check out that girl over there by the bar."
What? There are other people in the room right now? He sighed and scanned the bar area. Amongst the men, there were several women lounging along the polished wood counter and he had no idea which one he was supposed to be noticing in particular. He hoped it wasn't the brunette with the blue streaks in her hair. She was staring back at him and licking her lips. Slightly startled, he turned to Cindy and asked, "Which girl?"
Obviously, it wasn't the correct response.
"'Which girl?' The HOT girl!" Cindy exclaimed incredulously, as if there could be any doubt as to which girl he should be checking out. "MY hot girl! The girl I've been trying to hook up with. Long blond hair. What do you think?"
Logan dutifully looked back at the bar, avoiding the rather intense gaze of the brunette and saw the blond in question: tall, long legs, good posture, probably works out - "Oh." He cleared his throat and rubbed his free hand along his thigh. "She seems very…nice." He didn't know what reaction Cindy expected. Did she think he'd actually share any thoughts about another woman, positive or not, with Max standing not five feet away from him, looking at him like that?
I can't believe I'm having this conversation -
"Nice? You need to clean those glasses? Look at her! That shorty is fine. Smokin' hot, long legs, tie-her-to-the-bed-posts-sex-kitten fine!" Logan could feel the heat on his face at that description. He drained his glass, hoping the action would hide his blush as he pushed away images of Max writhing on his bed. "You know only a white girl could have an ass that flat and make it look so damn good!" Cindy continued, as she surveyed the blond with eager eyes.
Rather in the same manner as the brunette was doing with him.
Logan tried to focus on the conversation, even opened his mouth to respond, but words failed him. Eyes Only speechless. Mark the date and time. Cindy lined up a shot and sunk a solid ball into the right corner pocket. Despite the distracting direction of the evening, Logan was quite aware that he hadn't actually missed his shot, giving the game back to her, but at this point he decided to let it ride.
"Been watching that hottie all week," Cindy continued, missing a shot and stepping away from the table. "I figure tonight is the night Original Cindy makes her first move. Tonight I'm gonna get her to talk to me and find out her name."
"Why don't you just ask her out?" Logan smiled, bemused by the conversation in spite of himself.
"See now, sugar, there you go thinking like a man again." I am a man, Cindy. He kept a neutral expression as she continued. "All obvious and goal-oriented! The female mind don't work that way. You gotta let a shorty know you're interested first. Women like a little seduction, you know. They like knowing someone's into them. First you watch the girl, then you let her catch you watchin' her."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "I thought women considered that stalking."
"Not if you do itright! Baby, I've got moves, another week and that girl's gonna be my ever willin' sex-slave. You just wait."
Oh-kay - "So, you're going to take it slow?"
"Exactly!" The look Original Cindy gave him made him wonder if there was more to this conversation than being friendly. Whatever it was, it eluded him.
He seemed to have passed some sort of test though as she continued to 'educate' him in the fine art of seducing women as they played their game. Somehow the conversation became less shocking and more entertaining as it progressed, and the three settled into a comfortable banter. Logan actually felt relaxed and comfortable, and was pleasantly surprised that he was able to slide back behind the cue with such ease. He made sure he paid particular attention to Max. She'd invited him, after all, and as her 'date' it was only natural and appropriate that he behave courteously. He felt bold enough to look her in the eye when she spoke and wondered if it was the alcohol that had given him permission to be himself.
He sighed. Considering one of the reasons for the decay of his marriage, that would be ironic.
"Eight ball, corner," Logan announced as he made the final shot and won the game. He grinned, genuinely delighted. Yep. I've still got it. "Looks like I just won the privilege of buying you a drink."
"Why don't you go order up a pitcher of beer and find us a table in the back. We'll meet you in a minute. We have to go to the Ladies' Room!"
Max looked puzzled. "We do?"
"We do," Original Cindy said forcefully. She smiled at Logan and steered her friend into another corner of the bar. Max had time to send him an 'I-have-no-clue' look before they disappeared in the direction of the washrooms. He shook his head and wheeled his way through the crowd towards the bar.
"What'll it be?" the bartender asked. Logan had passed the brunette with the blue streaks and ignored her frank appraisal of him. Instead, he'd wheeled further than was necessary and stopped beside a young man with blond hair who sat at the bar, elbows on the wooden surface, very focused on his drink. He wondered briefly how anyone could shut out the noise so well that it didn't seem to interrupt his thoughts at all.
"A pitcher of beer, please," Logan said, raising his voice to be heard and pulling out some bills. "And could I have three fresh glasses? We left our other ones over there." Logan nodded towards the pool table, where some young people were already setting up a game. He laughed softly at the thought. You hit thirty and everyone else is a kid.
"No problem," the bartender said, grinning. "You find yourself a table and I'll bring it over."
"Thanks." Logan turned and headed for a small table in the corner, one of the few that were available. It'd be a bit tight for three but that was alright. There were only two chairs, anyway. He shrugged and turned so he could watch the room. Only need two chairs -
He paused in the middle of locking his brakes when he realized how he'd just processed that information. He'd thought about the chairs in a practical way, not bitterly as if someone had made a point of leaving room for the 'cripple' to park. He finished locking the brakes and leaned back, thinking. It was odd, really. He'd never considered himself a bitter person - and certainly didn't like his coffee that way. It wasn't as if he'd ever taken the time to learn how to tap dance or was an avid hiker or liked to jog, and if he was still capable of doing so he knew he wouldn't make the time now. But the stark knowledge that he'd never have the chance for any of those activities had almost made him give up bothering to continue.
And now he'd just dismissed the missing third chair without an ounce of angst.
A young woman in a tight denim outfit brought him the pitcher of beer and three glasses. They shared a smile and a nod and he scanned the crowd for Max. There she was, over by a doorway talking with Original Cindy. He tried not to stare but it wasn't easy. She seemed right at home in the bar, comfortable in her own skin and radiant.
Then suddenly she turned his way and he darted his gaze to the bar. Unfortunately, the brunette who'd been eyeing him earlier was still there and stared back. He frowned. She laughed and he looked at Max again only to find her staring at him, too. There was a moment where they both realized what the other was doing, and then she ducked her head. Uncertain how to feel about that, he poured himself a glass of beer and attempted to occupy himself by trying to make out the lyrics to the song blaring from the speaker nearby.
Max and Cindy seemed to be having quite the discussion. When he checked them again, Max was doing all the talking and her friend had assumed the posture of someone who has heard it all before. A few minutes later, the conversation was obviously over. Cindy looked resigned as she headed for the table he'd found. Max followed her. He filled their glasses. Cindy thanked him and informed Logan that she would be putting drinks on his tab for the rest of the evening or until she won the next game, whichever came first. Then she left them alone and headed into the crowd.
Logan looked up at Max, as she looked a bit distracted. "Anything wrong?"
"Oh. No..." He suspected she was stalling but decided not to push it. She sat and added, "I think Cindy just wants to make that move on her hottie, that's all." Logan thought he saw Original Cindy start for one of her co-workers - what is his name? Scratchy, Sketchy, Sneezy, something like that - who was intensely, if drunkenly, discussing something with the blond young man Logan had noted when he was getting the pitcher of beer and an older man who was sitting nearby. She changed her mind, though, and Logan tracked her as she headed for the foosball table.
Ah, the leggy blond.
"But what's with you and pool?" Max asked, changing the topic. He recognized a 'redirection' when he heard one. "Holding out on me? I never thought that the Cales would hang out in the neighborhood pool room."
"No, but as they do with a lot of things, when the snootier types find something they want to try that they think is beneath them, they hang a fancy label on it to make it fashionable and worthy of them." He chuckled. "Macaroni and cheese is beneath them, so they 'invented' fettuccini alfredo. They'd never hang out in a pool room, but they have billiard rooms in their homes and billiard tables at the club - close enough to pool to let me win beer money at school."
That made her grin. Logan enjoyed her company, and decided that even though they were in a noisy place like Crash, as long as he was with Max, he'd be fine.
They talked about nothing and everything, forgettable topics in a night he'd remember for a while. It wasn't all that many minutes after Original Cindy left that two of Max's co-workers joined them: Herbal and Druid. They helped themselves to what was left in their pitcher and started talking to Logan about this and that around Seattle. To his surprise, he didn't find it too difficult to understand Herbal's Rasta-speak.
"This table needs a refill," Max announced. Logan smiled at her and nodded but discovered that he was quite comfortable having her leave. He was talking to the two men about the latest crackdown by the sector cops and it was interesting to get their perspective.
Maybe I should put on my journalist's hat, he thought idly, then decided to keep that for another time. This was his night off and he mentally told Eyes Only to take a hike.
It didn't seem like much time had passed that Max was back, placing the pitcher on their table and saying brightly, "Logan, it's 10:20. You made me promise to remind you." He stared at her, completely puzzled with regards to the relevance of this information, nor did he have any recollection of asking her to tell him anything. Then she turned to her friends and continued. "It's his great aunt in Europe, a zillion time zones away - it's her birthday, and he's got to call her first thing on her special morning... You know, he's her favorite nephew, blah blah..."
Logan pursed his lips and nodded, gathering she needed to leave and figuring he could ask later.
"In Belgium, actually. Thanks, Max. We'd better get going." He didn't rush things but shook hands all around, assuring Herbal and Druid in brief but unhurried words that he'd enjoyed their talk. As she led them toward the alley exit, Logan noticed that Max kept her face down and shielded herself from the bar as much as she could without looking obvious, glancing back to Logan a few times.
He was smart enough to resist the urge to look over at the bar.
Once they'd reached the door, she seemed to relax a bit. He raised an eyebrow, a silent question, and she smiled. He looked forward to her explanation as to why he needed an important telephone call to get them both out of Crash.
He hoped she'd trust him enough to tell him if it had anything to do with Manticore.
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Stay tuned for another exciting installment next week!