"Max," Logan hissed

"Max," Logan hissed. "What are you doing here?"

He looked at her with an appraising gaze. She was dressed in black and wearing gloves.

"Logan, look…" she started to say.

"Shhh…You were stealing, weren't you? I swear, you're like a klepto or something," he whispered.

"Come on, Logan, I'm out of money and I'm out of Tryptophan. What do you want me to do?"

"Why don't you borrow money from me or..."

Max cut him off. "No! You don't get it. I'm not…"

Logan jumped in again. "You're not what? Never mind. We can't do this right now. You have to get out of here."

"But…"

"No. Go. We'll talk about this later."

"But..."

"Go. I didn't see you take anything."

She raised her eyebrows. "Rebel. I swear…"

"Now."

She crossed the room and slid back through the window.

As Max drove to the fencer, she tried to push the thoughts about the girl with her Logan to the back of her mind, but they kept coming back. Who was she? What was she doing with Logan? Her voice was so familiar, but its origin alluded Max's grasp. But she knew it, she knew it, she knew it. It nagged at her mind. Who was she?

Max flicked on her blinker and turned right. She parked her bike and slid off.

"How much?" she asked the fencer as she pulled the cufflinks out of her pocket.

"Lemme see those," he said and held out her hand. Max deposited one in his open palm. "Twenty-four karat gold, silver…"
"Don't cheat me, man. That's platinum," Max said threateningly.

"Well, on closer inspection…"

Max smiled. This fencer was always a bit of a pushover. She studied his motions as he rolled the cufflink in his palm with his index finger and examined the stones that studded it.

"One fifty."

"Come on. Is that the best you can do?" Max leaned forward and licked her lips. The fencer visibly reacted, his face colored up nicely. Yup, she thought. A pushover.

"Two. Final."

"Pleasure doing business with you." Max handed over the other cufflink and the dealer placed ten worn, soft, dirty twenties in her outstretched palm.

As she walked back to her bike, she rolled the woman's voice across her mind once more. Then, the beep of her pager interrupted her reverie.

She glanced at it. Logan. And he was going to want to talk.

+++

Max sat apprehensively on the floor of the kitchen. She rolled her bottle of Tryptophan across the floor between her hands. The pills made little clicking noises as the fell against each other. Back and forth. back and forth.

Why am I sitting on the kitchen floor? she though. Why not? Everybody had to sit somewhere. Unless they were standing, but then they had to stand somewhere.

She stood up.

This is crazy. I'm crazy, she thought.

She leaned against the counter and waited. She'd responded to Logan's page, and he said he was around and was going to stop in to talk about what had happened earlier that night. Great. Talking. Got to love the talking.

The knock on the door pierced her thoughts. She strode purposefully across the room. Her hand hesitated above the knob, then grabbed it and gave it a sharp twist.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Logan entered the apartment and followed Max across the room to the kitchen.

"Why are we in the kitchen?" he asked.

"Everybody has to be somewhere," she said tensely. He gave her a look. "It made sense in my head…"

"Riiiight. Anyway." Logan dropped his backpack on the floor. He glanced down and noted the bottle Max had left on the floor. "I see you got your stuff."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you ask me for some money?"

"It's not like you're the First National Bank of Logan. I can provide for myself."

"Stealing is not providing. Next time, just ask. If it makes you feel better, you can pay me back." He smiled at her. He wasn't mad. Max felt slightly more at ease.

"Whatever. So what were you doing at Gosland's place tonight?"

"Family obligation. No biggie."
"And the girl? Who's she?"

"My secret passionate lover." Logan glanced at Max. "Kidding. Kidding. She's an informant. She just happened to be there, and she had some fortunate dirt to dish for our friend Eyes Only. Also no biggie."

"Ah. So why the big dealio? Why did we have to talk?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed pretty desperate to get a fix tonight. What if you couldn't find your seller?"

"You know, sometimes you're okay."

Logan reached down and grabbed his backpack off the floor. A book slid out. Max picked it up.

"A book?" she asked quizzically.

"Yeah, funny thing, people used to read. They read books. Whack, huh?" he said sarcastically.

"Vonnegut. Slaughterhouse Five," she read off the cover.

"Take it. Read it. Enjoy it."

Logan pulled the backpack over his shoulder and headed for the door. As he left, Original Cindy and Kendra came in.

"Logan," Kendra said by way of a greeting.

"Ladies." Logan disappeared down the hall.

"Hey boo. Wanna go down to Crash? Have a pitcher of beer?" Original Cindy asked.

"Nah. I'm not feeling to hot. I think I'll just hang here."

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

Kendra grabbed her jacket off the floor.

"I left my jacket here. We'll see you later." They left.

Max sat back down on the kitchen floor with Logan's book. She definitely wasn't going to sleep tonight. Might as well do something. She folded back the cover.

::Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time. Billy has gone to sleep…::