Fade to Black

By Guardian Angel

1/9/01

Setting: Two months (roughly) after "When Dreams Become Reality." (One of my other fics) I would suggest that you read "Dreams" before this, because it explains how Logan walks, but it's not a must…

Rating: NC-17 (Be forewarned, there is an actual reason to the rating. If you can't handle it, don't read it!)

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.

Author's Notes: Here you guys go, the happy ending I promised…if you were greatly disappointed with the ending of "Dreams," I'm sorry, I kinda had mixed feelings about…was really doubtful about how I wanted to end it, worried that you all would hate it, etc…needless to say I finally decided on the angsty ending, because, well, I'm the self-dubbed queen of angst. *shrugs* But of course I didn't even think of leaving it that way, so here's your sequel…Many many thanks to my big sis Jen, for keeping me encouraged and beta'ing this for me (*snort in Jen's direction* I know how much you must've hated that, Sis…;-) and for slapping me upside the head when I started to doubt "Dreams" too much! I love you babe!

Author's Note 2/28/13- This is an old story of mine, but for some reason it's no longer posted here. Not sure what happened, but a kind reader pointed it out, so here you go!

He missed her.

Ever since making that life-altering mistake that day while trying to protect Lauren, and being sentenced to spend an unknown amount of time, if not his whole life, in a wheelchair, Logan had dreamed about what it would be like to walk again.

In one variation of his fantasy, he would rise up out of his chair as Max came in, sweep her into his arms, and waltz with her around the room. In another, he would come to her door with a bouquet of roses, take her out to an expensive dinner in a small, upscale restaurant, then bring her back home, and, well…things would progress from there. Of course he knew that it would never actually be like this, because, well, this was Max he was talking about, and it was never that easy, or that clichéd. But still, it was a nice dream…

In all of his fantasies, he never imagined it turning out like this. It never even occurred to him that she would just simply start to disappear, that what little time he did spend with her would be strained and tense. He never dreamed that he would see that wild, caged animal look on her face directed at him. Yet it had happened anyway.

He had finally been able to ditch the last of the crutches and canes a little over two months ago, and in the ensuing weeks he'd only seen Max a handful of times, usually not even twice a week. When she did come around it was only when he paged her, and she only stayed for a few minutes. Just long enough to see what info or job he had for her, then blaze away with some lame excuse as to why she couldn't hang around longer. Since he'd started walking she'd only stayed for dinner twice, and that last strained affair had been several weeks ago.

He missed her too damn much.

He could still remember the last night they had shared their old easiness with each other. The night he walked in front of her, completely unaided, for the first time since he was shot, all those months ago.

He was sitting at his computer, same as always, when she let herself into his penthouse in answer to his page. The look on her face when he'd stood up to greet her, a large grin on his face, had been priceless. He could still recall her astonishment and happiness as if it was yesterday. She'd tossed herself at him, practically lifting him off the ground in her enthusiastic hug, before suddenly stepping back and becoming terrified that she'd hurt him in her happiness. In answer, Logan simply wrapped his arms around her again and lifted her up, swinging her around in a dizzy circle that left both of them laughing and breathless by the time he returned her to her feet.

He'd already had an elaborate celebratory dinner ready when she'd arrived, and the couple had languished over the meal, talking and laughing over shared memories, mostly of their stay with the Brotherhood and all of the crap Max had been forced to put up with. All in all, it had been an amazing evening, ending with another fierce hug before Max dashed out into the night, heading home before the sector police could find something else to ride her ass about.

Now, three weeks later, the memory of that night still managed to make him feel like the luckiest man alive…and the loneliest. Because now she was gone. The bubbling, cheerful, and yet often cynical woman he loved so much had done everything in her power to distance herself from him.

The week following that last dinner had been amazingly busy for both of them, and he'd hardly seen her at all. Accepting the fact that she had a life too, he'd thought nothing of it, even when she didn't stop by for three full days in a row. When she did finally show up on the evening of the fourth day, she was pensive and quiet, a rarity for Max. She refused to talk about whatever was bothering her, and he'd shrugged it off, figuring she'd just had a bad day at work, or that she would get around to telling him what was wrong eventually.

God was he wrong. It had all gone downhill from there. Now she called before coming over, making sure that he actually had information for her, and wasn't just paging her to come to dinner. In the months following their stay in the Brotherhood compound in Hawaii, their interaction had always involved friendly, easy smiles, shared humor, and casual touches. Now he couldn't recall even a single time in the last month that she'd touched him. Or allowed him to touch her.

He had been brooding about the situation for the past few days, his mood dour. Hell, he'd been in such a bad mood the last day or two that he'd managed to royally piss Bling off, finally ordering his loyal friend to get the hell out of his penthouse, just so that he would be left alone. After all, a man was entitled to some privacy when contemplating the fact that he'd been unceremoniously dumped on his ass, without a word, by the woman he loved. Wasn't he?

He finally came to the conclusion that nothing was going to change between Max and himself unless he took the initiative and did something about it on his own. Never mind the fact that Bling had been trying to get this point through his thick skull for the past week, and his incessant nagging on this subject had been one of the reasons Logan had finally ordered him out. No one paid attention to inconsequential details like that anyway, right? Right.

His mind whirled with doubts, worries, and desperate hope as he finally got up the nerve to page Max. It wasn't even nine in the morning; he knew she'd probably still be at Jam Pony, chatting with her friends while waiting for Normal to send her on the first run of the day.

When an hour had passed without a word from her, he paged her again. Then again, as yet another hour passed without his phone ringing. He repeated this process throughout the morning and early afternoon, until, around one, Max finally called to check in.

Her voice over the phone was brusque; he knew she was probably annoyed at his nagging persistence with her pager. "Yeah. It's me. What the hell is so dammed important that you've been blowin' up my pager all morning." There was no question or curiosity in her words, just a flat statement.

"I wouldn't have to page you incessantly if you'd bother to check in the first dozen times." Before he could censor his words they were out. Practically feeling her hostility swell on the other end of the line, he brutally squelched his bitterness as he continued. It's probably not the best idea to antagonize her right before asking her to come over… "Sorry. It's been a long night. Can you swing by tonight, after you get off work? It's very important."

"I guess." Her tone was grudging, she was obviously not happy about the situation.

"Thanks…and Max? Please try to make it as soon after work as you can. As I said, it's important."

"'K. Later." So saying, she abruptly hung up. Her mood was instantly worse. As retarded as the whole situation was, she was now angry at Logan for making her feel bad for being a bitch to him on the phone. You are so screwed up, girl. Need to pull out of this…Think I'll hit the club with Original and the gang after Logan's, that should cheer me up. No, wait, he'll probably have some errand for me to do…scratch that idea, I guess. With a mental sigh, she trudged back to Normal's desk, ready for her next delivery of the day, already dreading her trip to Logan's.

Shortly after five, Logan heard a knock on the door. That was another change, instead of just barging in unannounced, Max was now always studiously polite, waiting for him to let her in. Rising from his chair, he went to answer the door.

As soon as he pulled open the door, Max breezed through, her face guarded. "What's the dealio?"

Without a word, Logan turned and walked back towards his computer room, leaving Max to follow. She did, her gaze warily following his every move. Damn that boy looks good…Bad Max. Very bad. Not gonna happen, 'member? Her eyes sharpened as he walked right past the door leading to his office, instead striding through the next door, into the dining room. The table was set, candles lit and wine chilling.

"Logan, what's going on? I don't have time for this, I told the gals I'd meet them at the club by eight." Any excuse to get out of here…I don't know why I'm still in Seattle in the first place, I should have left as soon as he could walk. While that had been her original intent, to make a clean break from Logan as soon as he could handle himself, she just hadn't been able to do it…she just couldn't bring herself to leave cold turkey like that. Even after seeing him kissing the lovely Doctor Jen Sheffield. She tried to delude herself into believing that her reticence to leave was because she would miss Cindy and Kendra and the rest of her gang, but in the back of her mind she knew it wasn't true.

His gaze was steely as he pulled out a chair and ordered her to sit. She covered her rapidly rising sense of panic with feigned annoyance, praying that he wouldn't see through her charade. Still, she sat.

"Have dinner with me." It was not a question, but a command. His face appeared to be carved out of stone, there was a slight tick in his cheek, and his eyes shot fiery sparks.

She had never seen him this angry. His every move was stiffly controlled, as if he was afraid that allowing one shred of emotion to show would ruin his barriers, and send him spiraling out of control. Still, her sense of self-preservation was screaming at her to get the hell out while she still could, before she did something that she'd regret. That they'd both regret.

"Logan, I don't have time. I'm sweaty and dirty, my knee stings like a bitch from taking a header off my bike today trying to avoid some idiot car, and I have less than three hours to do whatever it is you want me to do before meeting the gang." The frustration in her voice was real, though Logan had no way of knowing that it was actually directed at herself, and not at him.

"Make time." His eyes bored into hers, his jaw set. "We need to talk." With a restless shrug he moved into the kitchen, only to return a second later with a platter of food. "Besides, there is no job, letting you think that was just the only way I could think of to actually get you over here."

"What the hell? Just who gives you the right to manipulate me like that, to waste my time?"

Damn, she does sound furious. Good. Usually he tried to avoid her wrath, but right about now he was thankful for any sign of emotion from her, anger or no. She'd been so cold the past few weeks, he had been afraid that the Max he knew was gone for good. Now, faced with her anger, he sent up a small prayer of thanks. If he could make her mad then there had to be some feelings left there, right?

"What the hell gives you the right to blow me off for no damn reason this past month?" His voice was a low snarl.

"Logan…" This time, despite her best efforts, she couldn't hide the pleading in her voice. Her eyes were desperate.

Knowing he had her, he continued to press. "Max." His voice softened, and he bestowed a small, ironic smile on her. "Please…After all we've been through, one dinner shouldn't kill you. And if you don't like what I have to say, once this dinner is over you'll be free to walk out of here and never look back." He couldn't hide the pain that crossed his face as he said this, but pressed on anyway. "I promise."

Slumping back in her seat, she gave in. She'd never been able to resist him when he pleaded with her like this, and it didn't look like she'd suddenly become immune now. "Fine." Her tone was slightly defeated as she began to listlessly dish food onto her plate.

He followed suit, saying nothing. After pouring wine into their glasses he sat across from her. Like her, he picked at his food, not really hungry.

Finally, she forced herself to look at him. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

He set his fork down, giving up the pretense of eating. His gaze was solemn as he gathered his courage for this confrontation. Here goes nothing… "Us."

She sighed, also giving up the charade of eating. Why couldn't he just give up this subject quietly? Accept it and move on? A sly voice in the back of her mind answered her silent question to herself. Because he wouldn't be Logan if he did. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew her conscience was right. Somewhere in the back of her mind, as often as she'd tried to deny it, she always knew it would come down to this. Unless she left Seattle without warning or a word, it couldn't end any other way.

Her tone was almost gentle as she answered him after a short pause. "Logan, there is no 'us.' We were friends for a time, helped each other out when the other person needed it…now neither of us need the help, so it's time for us to go our separate ways." She hated how harsh the words sounded in her own ears.

"That's all we were? Business friends?" His tone was quiet. Deadly. "I'm walking again so the friendship ends?"

Forcing herself to stay still, she finally met his gaze. "Yes. You don't need me anymore. And we've found Zack, if I bug him enough he'll tell me where the others are. I don't need your help with that anymore." As hard as she tried, she couldn't bring herself to simply say that she didn't need him at all.

"So that's all it was? Meeting each other's needs?"

"Yes." She lowered her eyes, unable to bear the anger and hurt in his eyes any longer…only to have her gaze go flying back to his at his next words.

"Well come on then, let's go finish up our business with a good fuck, so you can head out clubbin' with your friends." He easily read the stunned look in her eyes. Too bad, Angel. I'm tired of holding back my emotions from you. You want to be brutally honest? You got it. "After all, we're just together to satisfy our needs…Lord knows I've needed you for the longest damn time, and I know you've wanted me."

Max rose abruptly from her chair, almost knocking it over in her haste to move. "Dammit Logan, it's not like that. You know it was never like that between us." Unable to stay still any longer, she stalked across the hall and into his computer room, before whirling to face him again.

"Wrong. It's *always* been like that. We've both been denying it for too long, but it's always been there."

Frustrated that the conversation was rapidly spiraling out of her control, she tunneled her hands through her hair. "Logan, don't you see? You don't need me anymore; you can walk. You don't need me to act as your legs anymore." She could see that he still wasn't getting her point. Her voice was a near-shout as she continued. "I'm a liability to you, damn it! Don't you understand? You know too much about me and Manticore, if Lydecker ever got ahold of you you'd be in a world of hurt. The only chance you have of survival is by not knowing me. I could delude myself that it was OK while you were still in the wheelchair, because you needed me. But that'd over. It's too dangerous for us to be friends anymore."

"What, so you're afraid for my safety if we're together, when I at least know enough to be careful? Then you obviously don't give a shit about Kendra or Cindy, if you're still hanging with them. Lydecker won't give a damn that they're female, if he finds out they're your friends they'll be in for the same treatment I would be." He faced her, his sizzling emotions now boiling out of control on the surface, for all to see. "Besides, if all you say is true, he won't care whether or not our relationship is current or past tense, I'm dead the second he knows that you and I had more than a passing acquaintance. He can't allow knowledge of Manticore to be made public."

"Kendra and Original Cindy aren't in nearly as much danger as you, 'cause they don't know anything." Turning away from him, she faced the window. She saw nothing, however, as she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Her head was throbbing.

Her whispered question tore at his heart.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Despite the profanity, her barely audible words sounded more lost than angry, as if she had given up the pretense of always being in control.

"Max, I think you're the one who doesn't get it." The anger was gone from his voice, leaving behind only sadness and defeat. "I don't care about the danger. I never did. If we really want to go into technicalities, we can say that knowing me has put you in danger as well, since you know that I'm Eyes Only. But we won't go there tonight, that's not the point." He adjusted his glasses, studying the slender, yet strong, curve of her back as she still refused to face him. "I care about you. I always have."

Taking a risk, he came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him. With a finger under her chin, he gently forced her to look at him. "I'd much rather have just one day with you, knowing what we have is real, than die fifty years from now wondering 'what if.'"

His tenderness was her undoing. After a moment's futile battle, she lost the fight and her eyes flooded with tears. "Logan, I couldn't bear it if I'm the reason you're hurt. You don't need me anymore, and I don't think I could live with myself if I caused your death."

Despite her slight protest, he slid his hands down her arms and around her waist, gathering her close. Her head fit perfectly into the curve of his shoulder, as if it had always belonged there. "I love you. I want to be with you, no matter the risks." He pulled back enough to allow himself to look at her. His eyes drilled into hers, forcing her to believe the truth in his words. "And I'll always need you. Maybe not to run my errands, but that doesn't mean I don't need you in my life, by my side." He smiled gently at her, and she couldn't ignore the love in his eyes. "Please…give us a chance."

With tears still trickling slowly down her face, she nodded. Sniffing, she buried her face against his neck again. Her voice was soft when she finally answered him. "'K…Logan?" Her throat felt clogged, as if she had just eaten a ton of cotton. She didn't know if she would be able to force the words past the barrier. Finally she succeeded. "I love you."

His arms tightened around her and he nuzzled her hair, allowing the giddy feeling of combined happiness and relief to wash through him as he smelled the soft fragrance of her shampoo.

After a short time, he tilted her face up with a finger under her chin. She met his questioning gaze, and his eyes dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. As his head lowered to meet her lips with his own, her eyes drifted slowly shut on a soft sigh.

Despite the sensations rocketing through his body, he kept that first kiss light, testing her acceptance and his control as he teased them both with a series of soft, gentle caresses. As her arms moved from his waist to wind around his neck, he deepened the kiss, finally allowing his tongue to slip inside her mouth and explore the hot, wet recesses. The lingering taste of the wine she'd drunk with dinner, along with her own natural flavor, was intoxicating, and he felt himself starting to spin out of control.

Her body felt like it was melting into his arms as she surrendered completely, allowing him to set the pace. She felt like she was floating, if asked she couldn't have said she was aware of her feet on the ground. This was entirely different from anything else she'd ever experienced. While she'd had sex before- though not nearly as often as many people would have guessed- she'd never made love.

One of his hands was tangled in her hair, while the other rested in the small of her back, holding her to him. She had never realized that kissing could be this arousing. Except for his mouth on hers he was hardly touching her, and she was already starting to feel like she was going to explode soon if he didn't hurry. Cupping the back of his neck with her hand to hold him to her, she arched against him, rubbing her body to his. Begging to be touched.

On a low groan, Logan pulled back enough to bury his face in her hair, his breathing ragged. "Max, you sure?" His voice was hoarse. As much as he wanted this, he didn't want to wake up in the morning to find out that she viewed it as one horrendous mistake.

Frustrated by his hesitance, she tried to drag his lips back to hers. "Yes, damn it." When he refused to be swayed right away, she gave up in his mouth and instead began to nibble on his earlobe. "Shit, Logan, we've waited too long already. *Touch* me!"

At her words, he tossed the last shreds of his control out the window and gave in to the desire raging through his body. His mouth claimed hers again as his hands began to roam her body, first exploring the curve of her back and shoulders, the slender strength in her arms. Finally he worked his way around, and she moaned softly as he gently fondled first one breast, then the other, through the thin fabric of her tank top.

Meanwhile, her hands were as busy as his, working at the buttons on his shirt. Of course, not knowing the importance of this day, Logan had worn a flannel button-up shirt, and in her haste her fingers kept fumbling on the buttons. Finally, as images of just ripping the damn thing off of him began to float through her mind, she gave up with a muttered curse, resting her head against his shoulder. To think, a genetically engineered killing machine unable to get a man out of his fucking shirt!

Laughing softly at her troubles, Logan pulled back enough pull the shirt off over his head, revealing the soft green T-shirt he wore beneath. Max quickly divested him of that thin barrier as well, and with a hum of approval she ran her hands over his chest, reveling in the contrast of firm muscle, smooth skin, and crinkly hair.

Deciding that she had way to many clothes on, he fisted his hands in the hem of her tank top and yanked it over her head, tossing it randomly into some far corner. Neither saw where it landed, and neither cared. He pulled her close again, and bent his head to leave a trail of hot, wet kisses down her throat and across her collarbone.

Finally realizing that they were standing in front of a window in his computer room, he scooped her up in his arms as she twined her own about his neck. He carried her into the bedroom, depositing her gently on her feet again. He left her long enough to walk over to the dresser and light a few candles that had been left there after the last brownout, creating a romantic glow in the room.

Returning to her, his hands went to her belt buckle, and he unfastened her jeans. He pulled the fabric down her thighs, his hands brushed the sensitive skin, and she shivered. He looked up at her, meeting her gaze and seeing the desire that matched his own. As he helped her step out of the discarded pants, he leaned in and bit her, ever so gently, on the inside of her upper thigh. He chuckled softly at her surprised gasp.

Continuing to kneel at her feet, he stroked his hands over her legs, watching her reactions. As she stood there, he turned her gently so that he could reach the backs of her knees, and shocked her again as he placed his mouth against the tender skin. His tongue flicked in and out, and she shuddered. The soft rasp of his beard stubble against her flesh sent little flickers of fire coursing through her body.

"Logan…"

As he chuckled again, his breath softly teased the backs of her thighs. "Patience."

"Someone once told me that I don't have a great deal of patience." Her voice was strained; she seemed to be losing the ability to speak.

Her breath caught as he slid one finger beneath the lace trim on her panties, gently exploring the heated skin beneath. He smiled up at her as his finger dipped inside of her, testing her readiness. She was hot and wet. As his smile widened into a grin, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the underwear and drew them down her legs, before tossing them over his shoulder in the same general direction as her jeans.

Finally he rose to his feet, but didn't pull her into his arms as she'd hoped. Instead, he reached around her to unfasten her bra, letting the thin black lace drop to the floor, and then stood back, slowly letting his gaze travel over her body. "God, you're perfect." His voice was almost reverent as he slowly traced one finger down the center of her body, from the hollow at the base of her throat to her navel.

Feeling slightly vulnerable with no clothes, while he was still partially dressed, she reached out to him. He gathered her to him, kissing her deeply as his hands explored her back, the dip in her waist, the flair of her hips. Her hands went to the button on his jeans, working the brass circle free and tugging down his zipper. Her lips smiled knowingly beneath his as she felt the hard evidence of his arousal beneath her fingers, kept separate with only a few layers of fabric. She eagerly pushed the jeans down his hips, and he kicked them off.

His boxers soon met a similar fate, and it was her turn to pull back enough to take in the view. He stood there, enduring her scrutiny with a slight smile on his face, as her gaze slowly traveled over every inch of his body. "Like what you see?"

She just smiled and flicked a finger across the definition of muscle running down the center of his stomach, laughing softly as he shuddered at her touch. "If I had known that under all those stylish shirts you were hidin' a six pack, I might've jumped you sooner!"

"Remind me to walk around shirtless more often."

They both laughed, and their lips were curved in matching smiles as they kissed again, losing themselves in the contact of mouth on mouth. Shamelessly arching against him, Max rubbed her body to his, enjoying the stimulating feeling of his crinkly chest hair rubbing against her aching breasts. Placing his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. The contact brought him against her hot inner flesh, but not in the way she wanted, and they both groaned at the contact. Her heat lapped at him, torturing them both with what was to come.

Her hands fisted in his hair as he bent his head and licked the curve of her breast. She arched against him shamelessly, her head falling back and her hair raining in a silky cloud down towards the floor. With his arms banded tightly around her back she felt completely secure. The slightly prickle of his stubble, contrasted with the damp warmth of his tongue and the softness of his lips sent fiery sensation lancing through her.

Her pupils dilated wildly as he bit down just hard enough on her nipple to have her gasping, and the tension in her body tightened another few notches. He laved the tortured point with his tongue, drawing the peak into his mouth and sucking gently, then repeated the entire process to the other breast.

With a strangled murmur she struggled down to stand on her feet, deciding it was time to return the ministrations. A wicked grin on her face, she reached down and stroked a finger over the head of his erection, feeling the slight drop of moisture he couldn't contain beneath her touch. His eyes closed briefly as he emitted a raspy groan.

She knelt in front of him, teasing the hard contours of his stomach with her tongue. Hs eyes practically bugged out of his skull as she soon tired of that and proceeded to trace a line along the seam on the underside of his penis, where one of the most sensitive bundles of nerves in his entire body resided, with her tongue.

Unable to wait any longer, he pulled her to her feet and once again scooped her into his arms, gently depositing her on the bed. She opened her arms as he followed her down, the mattress squishing softly under their combined weight. As he bit down gently on her shoulder, she wrapped her legs around him, urging him towards the wet haven that was waiting for him.

"Now, Logan."

His laugh at her anxiousness was rather strangled as he positioned himself. Determined to drag it out as long as possible, he teased her clit with the head of his erection, before letting one precious inch of himself slip inside. She grabbed his hips, trying to urge him deeper, but to her very vocal frustration he withdrew again, only to stroke slightly deeper this time. He continued to torment them both with his slow penetration, allowing himself to go slightly deeper with each thrust.

"Logan, you bastard, you tryin' to kill me?" Her voice was a breathy moan as he nipped the side of her neck in response.

Finally, unable to bear the torture any longer, he pulled completely out again, only to plunge his full length into her welcoming heat at last, burying himself to the hilt. He groaned at the exquisite tightness of her wet flesh around his and began to slowly move inside her.

"Oh, yes."

He let out a strangled laugh at the obvious satisfaction in her voice as he continued to move, building the tension higher and higher. With arms wrapped tightly around each other they began to move in unison, the timeless rhythm of lovemaking taking over.

As he caught her mouth with his own for one final drugging kiss, he thrust deep one last time and felt the tremors start in her body. Her inner muscles contracted tightly around him as the waves of blissful release washed over her, and tore away the remaining shreds of control. Tossing his head back in pleasure, he allowed himself to spill deep inside her, even as the tremors of her orgasm continued to pulse around him.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her. After taking a second to gather enough strength, he rolled over, taking her with him. As hard as it was to move at this point, he figured it would probably leave a bad impression if he crushed her to death beneath his weight.

Still wrapped in his arms, Max listened as his heart eventually slowed to a normal tempo, and his breathing evened out into sleep. She cuddled against him, her head cushioned in the curve of his shoulder. Her arm was tossed across his chest, with her palm resting directly on top of his heart, as if staking her claim. Slowly she, too, drifted off into the most relaxed sleep she'd ever experienced.

In the utter darkness before dawn, Max woke. She could feel the warmth of Logan cradling her, making her feel safe.

After laying like that for a little while, simply enjoying the feeling of being held and treasured, even in sleep, she silently detangled herself from his arms, careful not to wake him, and slipped from the bed. Shivering at the slight chill, she searched around the room until she found a pile of clean laundry resting on a chair, still waiting to be put away. Selecting a soft, faded T-shirt from the stack, she slipped it on, inhaling the fragrance that reminded her of Logan. She glanced back at the bed, seeing the slight smile on his lips as he dreamed, before unearthing a pair of his boxer shorts from the pile and pulled them on. They were a little big, she had to roll the waist down a bit to keep them on her hips, but they worked well enough to satisfy her.

Padding barefoot across the cold floor, she moved into the computer room and stood in front of the window, staring down at the darkened city below. The streets were silent; there wasn't the slightest hint of movement in the pre-dawn blackness.

She didn't know how long she stood there, lost in thought, before she heard the soft sound of his footsteps approaching from behind her.

"Max?" His voice was slightly hesitant as he paused a few feet away.

She looked over her shoulder, gifting him with one of her rare warm smiles. "Hey. Didn't mean to wake you up."

He smiled back, stepping closer. "I felt you get up…"

She gestured towards the city sleeping below. "It's so quiet now, so peaceful…no one would ever guess the millions of tragedies that go on each day inside the now-silent buildings and in the shattered streets."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pleased when she leaned back against the solid wall of his naked chest, relaxing in his embrace. Content to be together, staring down at the broken city below, they watched the sun rise slowly on another day in Seattle, bound to be full of the same old stuff. Only on this day, neither of them felt alone any longer. No matter what cruelties life tossed at them, they had each other.

There, are ya all happy now? Can I stand up without worrying about the barrage of rotten vegetables coming my way? You all can blame my little trip into, uh, smut-land on my darlin' sis Jen-Jen, she's the one who eggs me on to write the more, uh, risqué stuff… ;-) Besides, been wanting to try my hand at this for a while, and decided to see how many people I could shock. ;-)

Jen: "Moni, whatcha doing?"

Monica: Workin' on my page…you?"

Jen: "What the hell do you mean, 'working on your page,' why aren't you working on fanfic?!"

Monica: "'Cause I wanted to take a break…needed to rest my poor tired noggin from all of the fanfic ideas swirling inside."

Jen: "WHAT? WRITE! Now! I *NEED* more smut! How else am I supposed to make it through work next week?"

Monica: *cringes* "I'm sorry…the ideas just aren't coming…"

Jen: "I'll MAKE them come!" *hops on a plane, flies to California, and stands over Monica with a whip in hand, forcing her to write*

*snickers* Sorry Jen, just couldn't resist…you know I love you, and your constant enthusiasm for my writing babe! :-) *hugs*