One hour following the previous scene (Dangerous Games: Contact). Two hours following the first scene (Dangerous Games). Please read Dangerous Games before reading this one. Dangerous Games: Contact is optional and NC17. If you are under 17, I have written this so that it is not necessary to read Contact before reading Waking.
To anyone who enjoys this story: please review it. I only intended to write one piece, but I've written two additional parts because of the wonderful feedback I received for Dangerous Games. As long as you let me know you like it, I'll keep writing it.
I don't own DA, any of these characters, etc. etc.
Dangerous Games: Waking
Max awoke with a start, instantly on alert. Strange location, strange position. Company. Enemy territory? Logan shifted the arm thrown across her waist and mumbled something in his sleep.
//Logan.//
Muscle by muscle, Max relaxed her body and fought to control the adrenaline rush she'd woken with. Logan's room, Logan's bed, Logan's body beside hers. Memories of the last two hours came back to her, and the last remaining tension left her body.
//And I wasn't even in heat...who would have thought he had it in him? Oh, give it up, Max. You thought he had it in him. More than once. Might as well admit it now.//
She wasn't going to go back to sleep. And lying in the dark at 3am, thinking, was never good for anyone. Daytime was for thinking, safe, bright, active daytime. Nights were for keeping busy, too busy to have late-night demons popping up. Too late.
//What have you done here, Max? This isn't a little fun, a little company. You can't play the female fogbank with this one, he knows too much already. Do you need someone who can see through you? No margin for error, here. Time to go.//
Easing herself from beneath Logan's arm, Max slid off the bed and grabbed her scattered clothes on the way to the living room. She dressed silently, in the dark. Refusing to think about Logan waking up alone, refusing to think about returning to her own bed without him, Max headed for the door. Trying desperately to control her thoughts, she allowed herself to be distracted by the wine glasses from the night before, still on the table.
//Didn't really look at those. Nice crystal. To bad he's off-limits as a target, I could get some cash for these. Not to mention the table. Not that I'd take anything. But a girl's gotta keep her fencing skills up, and this place is a living price guide.//
The table led to the chairs, to the rug, over to the display cabinet of artwork. Max prowled the apartment, pricing one object after another. Each piece another excuse to stay, for one more moment. Until she reached the mirror.
//He played me in front of that mirror once. Warmed me up and used me for my bar code... Forgot about that. Maybe I owe him one. Wouldn't do to leave before paying him back, would it?//
Quietly, Max stole back into the bedroom and stood in a dark corner farthest from the bed. Unable to make herself move closer, unable to convince herself to leave, she stood watching, willing him to wake up.
//Logan. Logan. Wake up and make me stay. Come on, you can do it.//
Psychic powers were apparently not a part of the Manticore makeup, as Logan slept on. Max grabbed a book from the dresser and dropped it to the floor. Logan's breathing changed, sped up, and a moment later he opened his eyes. He reached one arm across Max's side of the bed and found nothing. In the darkness, without his glasses, there was no way for him to know if she was still around or not. Max waited, silently.
//Did you want me to be there or not? Are you disappointed or relieved?//
Logan said nothing, didn't even shift his position. His eyes stayed open, his breathing regular, for long moments while Max watched. Waiting for him to call her name, to give her the excuse she needed to crawl back into bed with him. But it seemed that he wasn't going to do it. Not that she blamed him. No sound could be emptier than calling someone's name in the darkness, and getting no response. Logan had taken enough chances tonight; Max couldn't expect him to take any more.
//The decision is all yours, Max. He's not going to lure you back. Staying or going?//
"Max?" Max hadn't realized that she'd spoken the last few words aloud.
//God, Zack's right. I am off my game.//
"Just a second."
//Off my game. What is my game? Find the others, so Zack can hit on me or Brinn can go back to Manticore? Help Eyes Only save the world, and watch little girls sold to the highest bidder, and good guys getting fried? Make friends so they can die from bad drugs or get thrown into the streets? Whatever. This game hurts.//
"Max." A statement this time, not a question, in that level tone of his. So soon, and already the sound of him speaking her name could make her heart turn over.
//The game is finding a place to forget the pain. An escape. My life is one big escape, so finding one more shouldn't be a problem. That's the mission. Time to go. Time to find a safe place, Max.//
Logan shifted in the bed. Max waited, but he didn't call her name again.
//A safe place.//
Max crossed the room and slid back into the bed beside Logan. Curling up and resting one arm lightly across his chest, she closed her eyes and smiled.
To anyone who enjoys this story: please review it. I only intended to write one piece, but I've written two additional parts because of the wonderful feedback I received for Dangerous Games. As long as you let me know you like it, I'll keep writing it.
I don't own DA, any of these characters, etc. etc.
Dangerous Games: Waking
Max awoke with a start, instantly on alert. Strange location, strange position. Company. Enemy territory? Logan shifted the arm thrown across her waist and mumbled something in his sleep.
//Logan.//
Muscle by muscle, Max relaxed her body and fought to control the adrenaline rush she'd woken with. Logan's room, Logan's bed, Logan's body beside hers. Memories of the last two hours came back to her, and the last remaining tension left her body.
//And I wasn't even in heat...who would have thought he had it in him? Oh, give it up, Max. You thought he had it in him. More than once. Might as well admit it now.//
She wasn't going to go back to sleep. And lying in the dark at 3am, thinking, was never good for anyone. Daytime was for thinking, safe, bright, active daytime. Nights were for keeping busy, too busy to have late-night demons popping up. Too late.
//What have you done here, Max? This isn't a little fun, a little company. You can't play the female fogbank with this one, he knows too much already. Do you need someone who can see through you? No margin for error, here. Time to go.//
Easing herself from beneath Logan's arm, Max slid off the bed and grabbed her scattered clothes on the way to the living room. She dressed silently, in the dark. Refusing to think about Logan waking up alone, refusing to think about returning to her own bed without him, Max headed for the door. Trying desperately to control her thoughts, she allowed herself to be distracted by the wine glasses from the night before, still on the table.
//Didn't really look at those. Nice crystal. To bad he's off-limits as a target, I could get some cash for these. Not to mention the table. Not that I'd take anything. But a girl's gotta keep her fencing skills up, and this place is a living price guide.//
The table led to the chairs, to the rug, over to the display cabinet of artwork. Max prowled the apartment, pricing one object after another. Each piece another excuse to stay, for one more moment. Until she reached the mirror.
//He played me in front of that mirror once. Warmed me up and used me for my bar code... Forgot about that. Maybe I owe him one. Wouldn't do to leave before paying him back, would it?//
Quietly, Max stole back into the bedroom and stood in a dark corner farthest from the bed. Unable to make herself move closer, unable to convince herself to leave, she stood watching, willing him to wake up.
//Logan. Logan. Wake up and make me stay. Come on, you can do it.//
Psychic powers were apparently not a part of the Manticore makeup, as Logan slept on. Max grabbed a book from the dresser and dropped it to the floor. Logan's breathing changed, sped up, and a moment later he opened his eyes. He reached one arm across Max's side of the bed and found nothing. In the darkness, without his glasses, there was no way for him to know if she was still around or not. Max waited, silently.
//Did you want me to be there or not? Are you disappointed or relieved?//
Logan said nothing, didn't even shift his position. His eyes stayed open, his breathing regular, for long moments while Max watched. Waiting for him to call her name, to give her the excuse she needed to crawl back into bed with him. But it seemed that he wasn't going to do it. Not that she blamed him. No sound could be emptier than calling someone's name in the darkness, and getting no response. Logan had taken enough chances tonight; Max couldn't expect him to take any more.
//The decision is all yours, Max. He's not going to lure you back. Staying or going?//
"Max?" Max hadn't realized that she'd spoken the last few words aloud.
//God, Zack's right. I am off my game.//
"Just a second."
//Off my game. What is my game? Find the others, so Zack can hit on me or Brinn can go back to Manticore? Help Eyes Only save the world, and watch little girls sold to the highest bidder, and good guys getting fried? Make friends so they can die from bad drugs or get thrown into the streets? Whatever. This game hurts.//
"Max." A statement this time, not a question, in that level tone of his. So soon, and already the sound of him speaking her name could make her heart turn over.
//The game is finding a place to forget the pain. An escape. My life is one big escape, so finding one more shouldn't be a problem. That's the mission. Time to go. Time to find a safe place, Max.//
Logan shifted in the bed. Max waited, but he didn't call her name again.
//A safe place.//
Max crossed the room and slid back into the bed beside Logan. Curling up and resting one arm lightly across his chest, she closed her eyes and smiled.