Hey all! This is my first fanfic, so please take it easy...
Disclaimer: I don't own them... Please don't sue me...
Chapter 6
After a little while of being lost in each other, they pulled apart because of a strange smell. Logan looked around and his eyes focused on the kitchen. The room was strangely smoky.
Finally, it clicked.
"My God! The brusechetta!" He looked at Max, and he could see a smile starting at the corners of her lips.
"First, you don't put the oven on at all, and my chicken is ruined. Now, you leave something in too long and it burns. Really, I don't know why I come here at all."
He kissed the smile off her face and waited until she finally let go before he went to try to save his kitchen.
When he got there, he could see dark smoke leaking from the edge of the oven. He cautiously opened it and was overcome by a cloud of black. As he hacked and waved the smoke from his face, he struggled to get at the burning food. In a few seconds, he couldn't see and couldn't breathe.
The hiss and whoosh of a fire extinguisher soon dampened the smoke somewhat. For a couple of moments, that sound was the only thing Logan could process. He was desperately trying to clear his eyes and lungs.
Soon, the noise was over and he could feel short, hard pats on his back. The pats stopped and he could feel his glasses being pulled from his face. His eyes painfully opened and focused on Max's face. Even though he had manfully tried to save the situation, a smile was still present. He scrunched his nose.
"What's so damn funny?" he grumpily asked.
"Ahem-nothing." She tried straightening out her face, but didn't succeed.
"You just think it's funny that I'm covered in soot, don't you?" He glared at her in annoyance. She didn't have a touch of dirt about her.
"No." She put her hands on his face and smudged the soot. "I just think you need to wash up. I'll help you. First, we need to get this sweater off." She went to grab the bottom of his sweater, but was stopped.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" his voice was low. She pulled her hands away, afraid of what the tone meant. Had she angered him? If so, how on earth--? Another look into his eyes gave her her answer.
"I'm sorry," she said awkwardly.
Again, they sat in silence.
"Uh-how about I go get changed and you make sure dinner isn't completely ruined? Besides, I still have that surprise to give you."
"The surprise! So, it is a gift!" Max's voice had a slightly childish hint to it. Her eyes had lit up at the mention of it as well, and Logan's eyebrows went up.
"So, you were thinking about it?"
"Yes. I've been trying to figure out what it must be all day. Can't you tell me? " Her lips stuck out in an adorable pout, so Logan thought.
"No. Not yet. Just check the lamb, and I'll be back in a few minutes." And Logan wheeled out of the room.
In his room, Logan took a deep breath. Even if their love was out in the open, they were still tiptoeing around it. Or at least he was. He just didn't want to do anything that they might regret afterwards...
He changed into a navy blue T-shirt, washed himself off and rolled back into the kitchen.
While he had been out of the room, Max had been pondering over his strange behaviour-and the surprise. She walked over to the stove, opened the pan on it, and smelled deeply. No doubt about it, the man could cook. She stuck her finger into the dark sauce. And was that-pieces of olive?
Her mind drifted away from culinary miracles to love soon enough. The look in his eyes... The responding passion. And their kiss... She grabbed the counter, her knees felt so weak. The light whirr of his wheelchair came from behind. She replaced the lid.
"So, are you going to tell me what this surprise is or not?"
Authors Note : This is just a sort of filler chapter until I've got everything figured out in my head... It's a crazy place up there... Margaret, can I call you Margaret? Of course you can call me Em! Or whatever other variation that you can think of... It's all good... Thanks again and again for all the reviews! All will be figured out in the end... I promise!
-Emily
Disclaimer: I don't own them... Please don't sue me...
Chapter 6
After a little while of being lost in each other, they pulled apart because of a strange smell. Logan looked around and his eyes focused on the kitchen. The room was strangely smoky.
Finally, it clicked.
"My God! The brusechetta!" He looked at Max, and he could see a smile starting at the corners of her lips.
"First, you don't put the oven on at all, and my chicken is ruined. Now, you leave something in too long and it burns. Really, I don't know why I come here at all."
He kissed the smile off her face and waited until she finally let go before he went to try to save his kitchen.
When he got there, he could see dark smoke leaking from the edge of the oven. He cautiously opened it and was overcome by a cloud of black. As he hacked and waved the smoke from his face, he struggled to get at the burning food. In a few seconds, he couldn't see and couldn't breathe.
The hiss and whoosh of a fire extinguisher soon dampened the smoke somewhat. For a couple of moments, that sound was the only thing Logan could process. He was desperately trying to clear his eyes and lungs.
Soon, the noise was over and he could feel short, hard pats on his back. The pats stopped and he could feel his glasses being pulled from his face. His eyes painfully opened and focused on Max's face. Even though he had manfully tried to save the situation, a smile was still present. He scrunched his nose.
"What's so damn funny?" he grumpily asked.
"Ahem-nothing." She tried straightening out her face, but didn't succeed.
"You just think it's funny that I'm covered in soot, don't you?" He glared at her in annoyance. She didn't have a touch of dirt about her.
"No." She put her hands on his face and smudged the soot. "I just think you need to wash up. I'll help you. First, we need to get this sweater off." She went to grab the bottom of his sweater, but was stopped.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" his voice was low. She pulled her hands away, afraid of what the tone meant. Had she angered him? If so, how on earth--? Another look into his eyes gave her her answer.
"I'm sorry," she said awkwardly.
Again, they sat in silence.
"Uh-how about I go get changed and you make sure dinner isn't completely ruined? Besides, I still have that surprise to give you."
"The surprise! So, it is a gift!" Max's voice had a slightly childish hint to it. Her eyes had lit up at the mention of it as well, and Logan's eyebrows went up.
"So, you were thinking about it?"
"Yes. I've been trying to figure out what it must be all day. Can't you tell me? " Her lips stuck out in an adorable pout, so Logan thought.
"No. Not yet. Just check the lamb, and I'll be back in a few minutes." And Logan wheeled out of the room.
In his room, Logan took a deep breath. Even if their love was out in the open, they were still tiptoeing around it. Or at least he was. He just didn't want to do anything that they might regret afterwards...
He changed into a navy blue T-shirt, washed himself off and rolled back into the kitchen.
While he had been out of the room, Max had been pondering over his strange behaviour-and the surprise. She walked over to the stove, opened the pan on it, and smelled deeply. No doubt about it, the man could cook. She stuck her finger into the dark sauce. And was that-pieces of olive?
Her mind drifted away from culinary miracles to love soon enough. The look in his eyes... The responding passion. And their kiss... She grabbed the counter, her knees felt so weak. The light whirr of his wheelchair came from behind. She replaced the lid.
"So, are you going to tell me what this surprise is or not?"
Authors Note : This is just a sort of filler chapter until I've got everything figured out in my head... It's a crazy place up there... Margaret, can I call you Margaret? Of course you can call me Em! Or whatever other variation that you can think of... It's all good... Thanks again and again for all the reviews! All will be figured out in the end... I promise!
-Emily
