A knock on the door roused Max from a momentary reverie. Damn! she admonished herself as she snapped back to full alert. Use your head, Max, this is the worst time to get sloppy. But the fact was, she was exhausted, and she couldn't remember any time in the recent past when she'd hurt so much. Not since Manticore. Maybe she was getting soft. Pushing the thought firmly from her mind, she went to the window of the tiny Vancouver motel room, slid the curtains aside the tiniest fraction of an inch. And swore. Violently.

Still muttering, she slid free the chain lock and opened the door, keeping herself behind it, out of sight, still on guard. As soon as he was inside, she slammed the door again and shot the bolt home.

"Dammit, Logan! I told you not to come here!"

Logan had spent the last few hours working out a careful speech of excuses, filled with logic and reason and plain good sense, which she would undoubtedly argue with until he worked her around to his point of view. But all his laboriously chosen words flew entirely out of his head when he saw her. She looked… well… as much as he hated to apply the term to Max, she looked like shit. Her face was swollen on the right side, marked with a rainbow of colors that ranged from angry purple to sickly yellow. Blood was still crusted on her split lip. And though she could never entirely lose her feline grace, she moved gingerly, like every muscle hurt. A lot. The rush of shock, concern, and violent anger tangled his tongue so that he could only stare.

"He could have followed me, Logan! He could have followed you! I don't know how much he knows, and I'm certainly not in a position to be handing him information that he could use against me! I don't care if you--" She stopped suddenly, tirade derailed. How could she shout at him when he was looking at her with such naked concern and confusion in those eyes? He'd certainly earned himself a blistering lecture on the intricacies of conduct when in potentially hostile territory, but she was too damn tired to deliver it. Besides, he was here already, what could she do about it?

"Max." Just that one word, her name, breathed in stunned disbelief into the silence, undid her. She let her breath out in a rush.

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have gotten you involved, but I needed to get out of there fast, and you're the only person I know who just happens to have safe houses dotted across the globe. I certainly never thought I'd be one of Eyes Only's refugees from tyranny," she added with a wry smile.

"How did you get here? Cindy said your Ninja was still in the apartment."

"I took the bus. Buses, actually. Seven of them, to be exact, in a bunch of different directions. If he was following me, he got a hell of a tour of the northwest."

"Max--" He started to reach for her, to comfort her, and stopped short when she held up a rigid hand.

"No. Please." Her voice was hard. If he touched her now, when her defenses were down and she was caught between fury and relief at his presence, she'd break. And she couldn't afford to break.

"All right." Keeping the words quiet, he relentlessly squashed a small sliver of hurt at the rejection. He'd dealt with enough people who were fighting for their lives to know when someone was on the edge. He'd just never expected to see Max there. "Who is this guy?"

Max began to pace, restless, telling herself she was working out the stiffness in her muscles. "I'm not sure. He's Manticore, I know that." She turned back to Logan, and he could see the mingled fear and curiosity in her eyes. "But Logan, he's not like anyone I ever knew from there. He's so fast, I can barely keep up with him. He's stronger, too, and he's had the same training--he anticipates what I'm going to do." She trailed off, re-living the fight in her mind, trying to find a moment where she might have gained the upper hand.

Watching her, now that the first slap of shock had faded, Logan realized she was struggling with a strange mixture of terror and excitement. He'd never seen her look so alert, so aware. He could practically feel energy crackling from her nerve endings, senses straining to the limits of their enhancement. Her movements were sharp, economical, and near feral. For the first time since he'd met her, he was overwhelmed by the fact that she was not quite human.

"What does he want?" he asked her, pulling her back to the present.

She slumped to the bed with a sigh. "No clue. If he'd wanted me dead, I would be. Besides, if he's still working for Manticore, my guess is Don would be pretty pissed off if he found out his little pets weren't playing nice together. So I doubt that's it. The only thing I can figure is that he's supposed to bring me back in, but he could have done that, too. I can't figure out why he didn't." After a moment, she forced herself to say what she'd been avoiding. "I think he might be from a higher class."

"A later group of experiments? I didn't know there were any."

"I didn't either--kind of figured we were their star attraction. But it makes sense. The age is about right, and there were hundreds of rooms on the base. We were usually too busy trying to keep our asses in one piece to do much exploring. They could have been raising circus animals for all we knew. The only reason my group turned up on your radar is that we escaped." She laughed, short and brittle and bitter. "The almighty X-5s no longer ruling the roost. Zack's gonna be so upset." She paused, then met Logan's eyes. "That's the other thing. If this guy's looking for me, he might be looking for them, too. That's why this has to end now. With me."

Logan shoved down words of comfort, knowing this wasn't the time, wasn't what she needed. Yanking himself back to the task at hand, he set his face determinedly. "So what's the plan?"

"I stay here tonight. Try to get some rest. Back to Seattle in the morning--I want him to see me there. Hopefully it'll confuse him. After that, I'm playing it by ear."

"Then I'll stay, too. No," he continued, barreling over her protests, "it makes sense. You're exhausted, Max, and you're operating on adrenaline and attitude. You need sleep. I've got five very well-trained guards posted in this area--if there's one thing I know how to do, it's set up a safe house."

"If it's so well-guarded, then you don't need to stay."

"It's my job to make sure you get some sleep. I'll read you bedtime stories, tuck you in. You know." He grinned at her for a second, relieved when she was too tired to do anything but grin back.

"Right. Just what every girl needs after a hard day of having her entire world-view rearranged," she replied sarcastically.

Then he sobered, pinned her with a heated look. "And I'll watch your back," he added quietly.

Her eyes slid away as she laughed a little, uncomfortable. "All right, all right." Anything to get him to stop looking at her that way. This is so completely not the time, Max, she told herself roughly. She tried one last time, more to change the subject than anything else. "And what are you going to do if he gets past your well-trained guards and your transgenic killing machine is occupied with visions of sugarplums?"

He was glad he had her off-guard enough that she didn't notice that the same thought had occurred to him, and he was less-than-satisfied with the answer. He summoned bravado to cover. "I think I can handle it," he told her, pulling the gun from his pocket and resting it on his lap. Truth was, if this guy was as good as Max said he was, Logan wasn't at all sure the gun would be enough. But he didn't care. He was tired of being afraid, and he wanted to be with her. It made absolutely no tactical sense, and he might seriously regret it later, but he'd heard the fear in her voice, and he couldn't leave her.

"OK, Logan, I give up. It's your ass." She sighed and buried her head in her hands. Truth was, she knew she'd sleep better with him there. She didn't do the solitary soldier thing as well as she used to; she'd been too long outside. She wasn't sure that was a bad thing. Besides, the chances were slim that she might have been followed—at least, not without her knowledge. And if she'd never forgive herself if something happened to him, well, she'd just have to make sure it didn't.

Logan watched the top of her dark head for a moment, wondering what she was thinking. After a few seconds, he offered, "Hungry?"

He couldn't help but smile at the way her head snapped up. Some things never changed. "I've got some food in the car," he continued.

"You do?" She looked like he'd just offered her Lydecker's head on a platter.

"Of course. What kind of a meal ticket would I be if I didn't provide the meals?"

She fell back on the bed, arm over her eyes. "You brought food." Her laugh had a slightly hysterical tinge to it, but he figured she had to let out tension somewhere. "Oh, Logan. My hero."

Hardly, he reflected with a twinge of self-pity, but forced a laugh. He'd deal with his inadequacy issues later. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

Later, food demolished and wounds tended, she laid down on the bed and closed her eyes. He settled himself in the chair next to her, gun on his lap, bedside light on, preparing himself for the long night ahead. He trusted the guards, but he wanted to stay watchful anyway. Just in case.

He watched her, the bruises already beginning to fade, dark curls tumbled, dark lashes motionless against her cheeks. He knew how it felt to have a lifetime's self-assurance undermined in one blow. The doubt, the uncertainty. The difference between them was that she was made for this, and something in her thrilled to the challenge. The chance to test her skills against an opponent worthy of them. It was more than he could give her, sending her up against petty criminals and hired thugs. And then he stopped thinking, and just watched, the steady rhythm of her back as she breathed.

He thought she'd fallen asleep, almost jumped when he heard her voice, quiet in the dimness. "Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared."

It wasn't the admission, but the surprise in her voice that caught him off-guard. The simple honesty broke his heart. He was filled with a wild desire to slay a dragon for her--something, anything. But she needed no help from him. "I know."

"I'd forgotten what it was like." A pause. "It sucks."

His smile was half-sad, half-amused. What a woman. "I know."

She opened her eyes, rolled over a bit to look at him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Daring greatly, he reached over and touched her hair, gentle to avoid bruises.

She turned her back to him again, snuggled into the covers like a cat. "You still shouldn't be here, though."

He chuckled, hand still on her hair. "Go to sleep, Max."

"I'm just saying--"

"Go to sleep."

She did. Smiling.

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All right, shippers, that was for you! Now back to the murder and mayhem. Comments/criticisms very welcome! Please! And thanks for all the nice reviews so far… It's very encouraging.