Author's Note: I'd like to thank my wonderful beta readers,
Heather and Meg, for their wonderful suggestions and insights. You two are the BEST!
~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 3 – Arrival
Max and Logan arrived at the theatre at nine-thirty
sharp. From the way that both Logan and
Davis had talked about the place, Max expected something akin to an upper-class
theatre. She wasn't disappointed. The building was circular and looked to be
at least two stories tall. Inside, rich
red carpet covered the floor of a large lobby, setting off the deep mahogany
paneling along the walls. Two grand
staircases, leading to the second floor, were located just off the center of
the lobby on either side of the main doors to the auditorium. There were a total of three public entrances
into the auditorium itself, and two side doors on either end of the lobby that
were used solely by the cast and crew.
The main floor of the auditorium held just over two hundred seats and
ended in a large orchestra pit at the front of the stage. Above them, the balcony held another hundred
seats.
Logan smiled slightly as he watched Max take in their
surroundings. When she finally looked
back at him, he smiled. "Quite a place,
isn't it?" he asked.
Max nodded. "Yeah.
Two emergency exits on either side of the theatre, leading, I assume, to
the hallways used by the cast and crew, from the way that the lobby was laid
out. Backstage, there are two sets of
stairs to the stage itself, and doors on both walls. I'm guessing there will be at least two exits from the backstage
area leading outside as well, right?"
Max looked over at Logan, who nodded.
"Exits to the outside are right off of the wings. Backstage, there are a total of five small
dressing rooms with their own bathrooms, one community dressing room with two
bathrooms, two offices, a kitchen with another exit to the outside, a
conference room, a sewing room and an electrical room." He looked at her and smiled. "I think I'm starting to pick up some of
your habits."
Max grinned. "Always
know your exits. It's a good code to
live by."
"Can't argue with that.
C'mon, let's find a seat."
Careful not to touch her and give the wrong impression to the curious
glances that were directed their way, Logan lead her down the center aisle of
the auditorium. The air was filled with
the smell of sawdust and paint.The sound of power tools and shouted
conversations echoed in the empty hall, as the stage crew feverishly worked on
the set. A fainter scent of paper and
coffee was also present, as was a musky smell of clothing that had been packed
away too long. Actors, singularly and
in groups, were scattered throughout the auditorium, going over lines, sleeping
or just reminiscingabout past
shows. On one corner of the stage,
Davis was immersed in a heated discussion with an older man. He absently acknowledged their presence with
a wave. The other man, who had a
petulant expression on his face that looked as if it were permanent, gave the
barest of nods in their general direction, then turned his attention back to
Davis.
"That's Jerry Layten, the director,"
Logan whispered to Max as they made their way towards the large stage. He guided her into a row of plush, red-velvet
seats, far enough away that they could talk quietly without being overheard,
but close enough that they would not appear to be standoffish. Max
was here as his assistant; she would lose all credibility as such if they were
to fall back onto the more-than-familiar camaraderie they shared at home.
Once they had seated
themselves, Logan hung his cane over the back of the seat in front of
them. He inclined his head closer to
Max and spoke softly. "One of the
things that I quickly found out is that Jerry has this very over-inflated
opinion of himself as a director, just because some show he directed,
pre-pulse, won an award or something."
Logan paused, resisting the temptation to nibble on her earlobe. "Everyone else has a very under-inflated
opinion of him."
The feel of his lips so close to her ear sent tiny shivers
down Max's spine. She glanced at him
out of the corner of her eye and absently wondered what his reaction would be
if she were to return the favor. She
thought furiously for a moment, trying to come up with a subject to broach,
then smiled to herself as one came to mind.
Slowly, she leaned in closer to him.
"Cale," she whispered, her lips a fraction of an inch away from his ear.
Logan had turned his attention back to the discussion between
Davis and Jerry, so he hadn't noticed Max shifting around. When she spoke, the feel of her breath
across his ear made his heart pound.
Slowly, Logan turned to face her.
She didn't move back, so Logan leaned forward until his forehead lightly
touched hers. Her lips were
tantalizingly close; all he had to do would be to tilt his head slightly-
"Would you like me to get you some coffee, Mr. Anson?" Max's
voice broke into his daydream. He
blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head, as she grinned impishly at him. His reactions delighted her to no end.
Logan smiled back at her, trying very hard to calm his racing
heart. "Yes, Ms. Williams, I would like
some coffee, thank you."
"Coming right up."
Slowly, like the cat whose DNA she carried, Max rose from the
chair. Logan watched her appreciatively
as she made her way to the aisle. Only Max would be able to make sidestepping
out of a row of chairs look sexy, Logan thought to himself. He admired the way her red sweater hugged
her sleek torso before disappearing into a pair of form-fitting black jeans and
matching leather boots. The outfit was
a little tamer than Max's usual fare, but the sweater was cut low enough to
tantalize him with thoughts of the dusky curves hidden beneath. His gaze followed her every movement as she
poured two cups of coffee and then made her way back to him. As she handed him his cup and slid back down
into her seat, the ongoing argument recaptured their attention.
"No, Jerry,
we cannot bring in any Canadian Mounties, or whatever the hell they are now,
just to fill in as military stand-ins.
You have more than enough people in the cast to double-up on roles,
which is what I told you to do from day one," Davis firmly stated.
"But, I-"
"No." Davis held up a
finger to forestall the man from opening his mouth again. "I said 'No' and that's final. Do we understand each other?" Jerry frowned and nodded reluctantly. "Good."
Davis checked his watch. "It's
almost time for our meeting with the rest of the staff, and I still have some
final things I need to take care of. If
you'll excuse me?" He didn't wait for
Jerry's answer as he jumped off the stage and headed directly towards Logan and
Max.
With a
heartfelt sigh, he threw himself into the seat in front of Logan. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and
well-used hiking boots. A pale blue
shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows completed the ensemble. On anyone else, the outfit would have looked
rumpled; on Davis, it just looked comfortable.
"God help me if I ever have to work with him again," he said with a
shake of his head. "You wouldn't
believe half of the stuff he just had
to bring to my attention this morning.
Did you sleep well?" he suddenly asked Max.
Only knowing him for a few hours, Max wasn't used to Davis'
abrupt subject changes. "Ahh, yes,
thank you," she hesitantly replied.
"Cale's snoring didn't keep you awake all night, did it?"
Davis grinned at Logan.
"No, he doesn't snore," Max automatically answered. She felt blood rush into her face as she
realized what her response had implied.
"Um.. I mean… No, I mean I don't mean…"
Helplessly, she looked over at Logan.
If she weren't so mortified, the stunned and incredulous look on his
face would have made her laugh. As it
was, Davis was unsucessfully trying to contain his own amusement. Max turned back to him, feeling the heat of
embarrassment engulf her once more. "I
have really good hearing, and I didn't hear him, so, I mean, I can only assume
that he doesn't snore," she tried to explain.
"Uh-huh."
Aware that anything else she may try to say would only deepen
the hole she was already in, Max turned her attention to her coffee cup.
"I'm sorry, Nicole, but the look on both of your faces was
absolutely priceless. Oh, God, I
haven't laughed like that in ages." He
wiped his eyes and smiled at the both of them.
"Anyway, we have a meeting to go to now, and I want to introduce you to
everyone. Your only job around here
will be to help Cale out with his job, which is to try to give the leads some
final pointers regarding the motivation of their characters. Although if they don't have it by now, they
never will. Hell Week starts tomorrow,
dress rehearsal is on Friday, and opening night is on Saturday. I'll hand out rehearsal schedules at the
meeting, and then go over the ones that I'd like you two to attend later today. Other than that, your time is your
own." With that, Davis got up and made
his way out to the aisle, leaving the pair sitting in a now sparsely filled
auditorium.
Max shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wondering what Logan
was thinking, when he chuckled. She
looked over at him, surprised.
"You know, one of these
days, we're going to look back on this and laugh," Logan looked at her and
started to laugh quietly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Of all the answers either one of us could
have given Davis, I certainly didn't expect that from you."
Max watched him for a moment, and then started to smile. "I guess I really did put my foot in my
mouth, didn't I?"
"Ahh, you put both feet in and started to chew," Logan grinned
at her. "C'mon. We're going to be late to our meeting."
*******
"I want to introduce you to Cale's assistant, Ms. Nicole
Williams," Davis announced to the small group that filled the meeting room.
"Cale has told me that Nicole's father was in the military and that she attended
military school with her brothers and sisters for a while, so she is a wealth
of information about military procedures, just waiting to be tapped."
Max turned to
look at Logan, a bemused half-smile on her face at Davis' not-so-inaccurate
description of her background. Logan winked
at her and smiled slightly.
"Nicole, seated to my left is Jerry Layten, our
director." Jerry peered myopically at
Max and smiled absently. He was not a
tall man, slightly hunched from age. He
vainly fussed with what was left of his hair, trying to smooth the single white
lock over his head to hide his bald pate.
"To Jerry's left is our stage manager, Debbie." A blond woman, who looked to be in her early
forties, smiled warmly at Max. "On my
right is Alan, who will be playing Michael."
A young man with light brown hair and green eyes nodded at her, a grin
playing at his lips. "And to Alan's
right is Crystal, who will be playing Jessica." Crystal nodded slowly at Max, her light blue eyes containing an
unreadable expression. "The only person
we're missing is my assistant, Linda.
Linda can easily handle anything that I can't get to. You'll meet her later. And of course, you know Cale." Davis
finished, his eyes twinkling.
Logan glanced over at Max after the introductions had been made. He knew that she wasn't comfortable with
meeting a bunch of new people; mostly from the way she had warily regarded each
one when they entered the conference room earlier. And he hadn't missed the way that she had seated herself at the
far end of the table, back to the wall, with a clear path to the room's only
exit, either. To all outward
appearances, she was calm and collected.
To Logan, it was obvious that she didn't want to be in the meeting at
all.
Carefully, so that only Max was privy to his actions, he
grabbed a handful of rubber bands that were sitting on the shelf behind
them. Davis was explaining something
about how the set was going to be changed, and was facing away from the small
group sitting around the table.
Quickly, Logan shot a rubber band at his friend, striking him directly
in the middle of his back. It was so
un-Logan-like that Max was hard pressed to keep a straight face when Davis
looked around, trying to catch the culprit.
It had the desired effect, though.
Once Logan finally ran out of rubber bands, Max was not nearly as tense
as she had been at the beginning of the meeting. Sharing a conspiratorial grin, they both turned their attention
back to the meeting that was going on around them.
"Now, to wrap this up, I have the rehearsal schedules for Tech
Week." Davis said. He handed a stack of papers to Debbie, who
started to pass them around the table.
"As you can see, we are not, I repeat, not going to rehearse
tonight." He raised his hand to
forestall the murmur of surprise that went around the table. "This will be the calm before the storm, so
I want everyone to have a good time on our last free Saturday night. The company is footing the bill for dinner
at one of the local restaurants and everyone is invited. This doesn't mean that you're going to get
out of rehearsal today, however. We're
going to continue with the usual schedule and bring in lunch, then work until
four. Understood?" He looked around the
table for their nods of acquiescence.
"Good, let's get to work."
*******
"No, no, no! How many
times do I have to say it? You need to
move down left on that line, crossing behind Jessica, so she can turn around
and run into Michael," the director yelled.
"Jerry, I have it written right here that you wanted me to
cross up left, in front of Crystal," the actor shot back.
"Where's my stage manager?
Debbie?!" Jerry turned around to glare at the handful of people that
made up the audience.
"Up left and in front, Jerry," Debbie's bored voice answered
him. "You changed it yesterday
morning." Again, the word floated
into the silence, although she didn't voice it aloud.
"Fine, fine. Up left,
in front of Jessica. From the top, Act
2, scene 1. Again, please?"
Davis rolled his eyes at the scene unfolding on the stage and
turned in his seat to face to Logan and Max.
"That's the third time he's changed the blocking in as many days. We're opening in a week, and he's still
changing things around. I'm going to
have to have a talk with him, again. Damn idiot.
An entire stage to work with and all he has the actors doing is moving
from one side to the other. No depth
perception at all. It's another damned
'Layten's Lineup' production in the making."
They watched the scene run to its completion, then Davis
shouted down at the stage. "Jerry, go
to the next scene and give me Alan and Crystal in the small room. I'd like them to work with Cale and Nicole
for a bit." Davis chuckled when the
third actor on the stage gave the two leads a black look as they made their
escape into the audience. Logan and Max
followed Davis to a small conference room backstage. Davis leaned casually against one wall as Logan and Max sat down
next to each other at the little table.
Alan was the first to arrive.
He nodded a greeting to everyone in the room, deftly spun one of the
chairs around and straddled it, resting his arms on the back of the chair. He was bouncy; that was the only adjective
that came to Max's mind to describe him.
He was about the same height as Logan, good-looking,
mid-twenties, with thick brown hair that fell over his forehead. Unconsciously, he raked it back with one
hand and smiled warmly at Max. "Were
you really in the military?" he asked.
"It was more of a military school," she replied evenly.
He grinned at her.
"Damn. My father threatened to
send me to a military school once. I
would have gone if I had known someone like you would've been there."
Max smiled at the obvious flirtation, ignoring Logan's steady
gaze and Davis' abrupt coughing fit.
"Trust me, it wasn't a picnic."
Alan nodded. "No
doubt. My dad was military. Marines.
I'm kinda the black sheep of the family because I didn't follow in dear
ol' dad's footsteps. He'd probably
laugh his ass off to see me in military digs for this show, even if it does
mean that I'm finally gonna have to get my hair cut short." He turned to look back at the stage through
the half open door. "Crystal, come on,
we have work to do," he shouted.
Crystal breezed into the room, slid into the seat next to
Logan and smiled at all three men. She
was a petite, pale, strawberry blonde who looked to be in her early twenties. Based on her first impression, Max had
serious doubts about her ability to pull off a strict military persona. Still, she'd give the girl the benefit of
the doubt and wait until she had more information before she made any
judgments.
"Sorry 'bout that," Crystal drawled. "I had to get my notebook so I could tap into this wealth of
military information of yours," she looked at Max and smiled insincerely. "I'm interested to get your impression of
the military from being in a school as opposed to actually growing up in a
military family."
"You were raised in a military family?" Logan asked.
Crystal smiled winningly at Logan. "Yeah. My father and
grandfather both flew for the Air Force.
I've been all over the world, but I was raised mostly in England. We were transferred to Georgia when I was
about fourteen, and my family's been there ever since. I was going to join the military for a
while, and even was accepted for officer training in college when I decided
that I would rather spend my life on the stage instead."
"So, you were actually raised on military bases, because your
father was in the military, but you've never been in the military yourself,"
Max clarified.
Crystal looked at her coldly.
"Technically. But my father was
very involved in his work, so really the whole family was in the military. I even dated a West Point Cadet for a while,
so I think I have a good idea of how the military operates."
Max blinked, wondering if Crystal actually believed all the
crap she was spouting. While she didn't
disbelieve that Crystal was from a military family, she knew that in no way did
the other woman have one-tenth of the knowledge of what military life was
really like. She glanced
surreptitiously at Logan, wondering if he saw through Crystal's bluster as
well. From all outwards appearances,
Logan's expression was one of calm acceptance and mild interest. Max knew better. It was his 'Eyes Only' face; the one he wore when he was doing his
cable hacks. The one he wore when he
was hiding his true feelings from the person he was speaking with at the
time. Max smiled to herself, knowing
that Logan hadn't been taken in by the woman's posturing.
"I'm sure my extensive background and familiarity with the
military is one of the reasons I was cast in this part," Crystal finished.
"Of course it was," Logan said, smiling gently at the young
woman. Crystal's triumphant smile
slowly faltered as Max smiled back at her; a smile that completely belied the
message in her eyes. Crystal jumped
when Davis cleared his throat.
"Well, I have to get a move on. I'll catch up with you later, Cale, to see how things are
going. Give Linda a yell if you need
anything."
Logan nodded as Davis slipped out and closed the door. "Well, let's get started, I guess. Are there any questions you have about the
play that I haven't been able to answer yet?"
Alan nodded. "Yeah, I
know Michael is supposed to be really involved in his work and everything, and
I'm sure, in the book, that it really came across, but with the play, I don't
see the point between where he separates his work from his own morals and his
love for Jessica."
Logan's brow furrowed.
"There really isn't a separation.
Michael's work means everything to him and his work is a result of his
morals. He's trying to make the world a
better place by using advanced DNA sequencing to help people. The fact that Jessica and the others are a
result of his research should fill him with a sense of pride and
accomplishment. At the same time, he
should feel horrified that the only use the government has for his theories is
to make human fighting machines.
"So, he loves Jessica because she is his perfect woman,
genetically speaking?"
"Yes and no," Logan replied.
"What he loves about her, although he won't admit it to himself, is her
wit and her intellect and ….. She is
able to challenge the way he looks at life.
Genetically speaking, she is the perfect woman, and he wouldn't be a man
if he didn't notice that as well, but it's her spirit that calls to him, not
her genetic make up."
"But isn't it obvious to everyone that they are in love?" Alan
asked.
"In that kind of atmosphere, there isn't any such thing as
love," Max interjected. "Michael's job
is to do his research on the subjects supplied. He isn't supposed to care that the subjects are human. To everyone else, they're lab rats. The soldiers are test subjects; they don't
know what love is because they have never been exposed to it. The other doctors don't care because all
they are interested in is the fact that their research is state-of-the-art
stuff. Michael has forced himself to
become so involved in his work that it has become his entire reason for
living. It's prevented him from seeing
what is happening around him. He
doesn't want to see anything else," she continued. "He's… he's obsessed with his work, sometimes to the point of
excluding and pushing away those that could care for him. He's put this… doctor-patient relationship
that he has with Jessica as a barrier between them so as to keep her at a
distance and not let his conscience start to question what he is actually
doing. He wants to keep things nice,
safe, and sterile. His first love is
his work. He doesn't believe that he
has room for a second love."
"But Jessica has her own problems," Logan threw in. "Here she is, this genetically enhanced
woman, who was raised as a soldier. She
was taught that love is a weakness. She
is deathly afraid of falling in love, and fights it by using sarcasm and
bravado and even running away. She
keeps Michael at a distance, not because she isn't interested in him, but
because she is afraid of loving him.
She is afraid of losing control of herself. She doesn't realize that by loving someone, she becomes that much
stronger, because his strengths balance out her weaknesses and visa versa."
"So, they finally realize they love each other when Michael's
orders come in to transfer him to another base?" Crystal finally chimed in.
"Yeah, he leaves, then returns to break her and the others out
when he hears that the project is to be terminated and her life is in
danger. He realizes that he doesn't
want to live without her and that he is her only hope of surviving," Max said
quietly.
"Michael is afraid to tell Jessica that he loves her, because
he's afraid that he can't meet her expectations and because he thinks that she
may run away from him if he tells her," Logan said, watching Max from across
the small table.
"Jessica is afraid to tell Michael that she loves him, because
she's scared of endangering him and because she thinks that she would take
second place to his research," Max added, meeting Logan's gaze with her own.
A thick silence descended over the room as Max and Logan
stared into each other's eyes, neither one quite sure what had surreptitiously
been admitted.
Slightly confused at the conversation they were now having,
Alan broke the silence. "Are we still taking about the play?"
Crystal cleared her throat noisily, "This is ridiculous. I am so out of here." She started to stand up and gather her
things when Max slammed her hands down on the table, making the two men jump in
surprise, and leapt to her feet.
"Sit down and shut up, soldier!" she yelled at Crystal. Unconsciously, Logan sat a little straighter
in his chair. It couldn't recall a time
that he ever seen Max fall into full Manticore-mode. He was just glad that her
wrath wasn't directed at him.
"You are here
for a reason, and that is to learn what we have to teach you," Max yelled at
the hapless girl. "Now, if you don't
want me to kick your lily-white ass from here to Ontario, you will pay
attention and you will learn something.
Is that understood?" Crystal
gaped at her, eyes wide in amazement.
Max leaned forward over the small table, invading her personal
space. Her eyes were cold and ruthless
as she stared down the other girl. "I
asked you a question, soldier." Max's voice was low and deadly. "Is. That. Understood."
Crystal nodded
frantically. "Y-yes," she stammered.
"Yes, what?" Max asked.
Crystal shook her head, shrinking back in her chair. "The answer is 'Understood, ma'am'. Think you can handle that, soldier?"
"Y-yes. Yes. Understood, ma'am," Crystal managed to
squeak out.
"Good." Max dropped
back down into her seat, all traces of the hard-assed military commander wiped
clean. "That's what Jessica is. It's not a job to her. It's not about having other people salute to
her or marching in a parade or living on a military base with her family. It is her life. She is military. She was raised to be a soldier. She has never known anything else. She is a cold-hearted bitch whose only
objective is to see the mission accomplished, whatever the mission may be. No one can breach the walls she has built
around herself and her heart."
"Except Michael," Logan added.
Max nodded and smiled slightly at him. "Except Michael. But only eventually. He
has to work for it. Alan has it easy,"
she looked over at the young man, who grinned at her. "Michael wasn't raised military, so he doesn't have the same
mindset as Jessica." She turned to look
back at Crystal. "Your job is going to
be harder, because you need to get across to the audience that you are
completely, one hundred percent military.
Jessica is the result of a military experiment. They don't see her as a human being. They have complete control over her entire
life, and if they decide that she is more useful to them under an autopsy
microscope, then…" Max shrugged her shoulders, leaving the rest of her sentence
unsaid.
"Well," Logan said into the silence. "Any other questions?"
*******
"So there we were, watching the St. Pat's parade go by and
drinking our green beer, when these three girls stroll up to us," Davis paused
and took a swig of his beer. "One of
them had a little puppy with her. It
was the cutest thing I've ever seen. So
tiny, you could hold it in the palm of your hand. Well, Cale there immediately goes care-ful-ly down on one knee to pet the dog, which is not an easy
thing to do when you're wearing a kilt, unless you don't care about flashing
the world. He's petting the dog and
looking up at the girl and chatting with her; things like, 'What kind of dog is
it?', 'How old is it?'; that kind of stuff.
"Now, during this entire conversation, the little puppy has
started to wander around and, sure enough, it wanders under Cale's kilt. All that anyone can see of it is this
little-bitty tail, just a-waggin' away.
And Gideon, being the concerned brother that he is, is sitting back and
enjoying the show. I, on the other
hand, am trying to get Cale's attention to let him know what the hell is going
on. The conversation went like
'Cale..'
'Hang on. How long
have you had the dog?'
'Cale..'
'Just a minute. What breed is it?'
"Well, pretty soon, a cold, wet puppy nose touched what cold,
wet puppy noses should never touch," Davis grinned at the laughter that started
around the table. "Cale must have leapt
at least five feet into the air, with a shout that managed to drown out at
least two bagpipe bands and a fire truck."
Logan leaned back and buried his embarrassment in his beer. "And," Davis paused dramatically, "All three
girls plus half of the crowd found out the answer to what is actually worn
beneath a kilt."
The table exploded into laughter at the end of Davis' story,
with several shouted requests from some of the more vocal women for a repeat
performance at the local St. Pat's parade on the following Saturday. Logan waved them off and sipped his
beer. "Thanks, Davis. I thought that story was well and truly
forgotten."
"Are you kidding? I
tell it every chance I get," came the reply.
"Oh, wonderful." Logan
turned to look at Max, who was still laughing at the story. "Would you like another beer?" he asked,
trying to change the subject. At her
nod, he made his way to the crowded bar.
While he was waiting for the bartender to return with his drinks,
Crystal squeezed in next to him and smiled.
"You know, puppy noses are really overrated," she looked at
him seductively from beneath her lashes.
Logan blinked at her, not quite sure that he heard her
correctly. "Excuse me?"
Crystal pressed her body closer to him, one hand casually
working its way up his hip. "This is
our last free night before Hell Week starts.
Maybe we could leave early and head back to my cabin for a drink or two
in private. You could help me with my
…. lines," she purred at him.
"Uhh, I'm … flattered, really, but I don't think that would be
a good idea." Logan jumped when he felt
her squeeze his ass. "Really, I'm going
to have to decline."
Crystal shrugged and backed away from him, "Your loss." She watched him as he picked up his drinks
and made his way back to the table.
Alan filled the empty spot at the bar and grinned at her, obviously
having had watched the entire exchange.
"I don't even know why you even try with him, Crystal. Can't you see he's head over heels in love
with Nicole?" he asked as he nodded to the bartender for another round. "He hasn't shown any interest since the day
he arrived, and now it's obvious why.
They try to hide it, but you'd have to be blind not to see that they're
crazy about each other."
Crystal looked at Alan and arched an eyebrow at him. "Really.
If you believe that, then why do you keep staring at her when you think
no one is looking?"
"Can't blame a guy for appreciating the sights to be
seen." Alan grinned at her. "The difference is, I'm not blatantly
throwing myself at her. Just face the
facts, Crystal. He's not interested." He raised his beer in salute to her and
turned to make his way back to the table and the ongoing party.
Crystal's eyes narrowed as she watched him leave. "We'll see," she muttered to herself.
*******
A brisk knocking at their door brought a sleepy Logan out of a
very pleasant dream. He heard voices in
the hallway speaking quietly. Max and
Davis, he thought sleepily. He had
just started to fade back to sleep when he heard a soft tap as his door.
"Logan? Davis needs to
talk to you," Max said softly. "Are you
awake?"
Logan sat up and rubbed his eyes. Max had asked for Logan, not Cale, which
meant that Davis was alone. "Yeah,
yeah, I'll be right there," he replied.
Quickly, he tossed on a robe and a pair of sweatpants, and then joined
them in the living room. Davis was
standing there with a very concerned, almost stressed, look on his face.
"What's wrong," Logan asked.
Davis
sighed. "Alan. He went and got himself a concussion and
three bruised ribs last night. Seems
after he left the company party, he and some of the other guys in the cast
found a country bar that had a mechanical bull, of all things. The result is that Alan is in the hospital
until Wednesday and on bed rest until Sunday, which means that we're without a
lead to open on Saturday. Jerry, in all
his wisdom, didn't take the time to have anyone learn any stand-in roles." Davis looked at Logan, his eyes unreadable.
"So… why are you telling me this?" Logan asked,
apprehensively.
"Because I want you to fill in as Michael. Just for Saturday night," he finished,
cutting off Logan's immediate denial.
"You've been rehearsing with him all last week. It's not like you don't know the play; hell,
you wrote the original story."
"Davis, I really don't do well at public speaking," Logan
protested.
"You keep
saying that," Max muttered to herself, trying to hide her grin as Logan frowned
at her.
"It's not
public speaking. It's a play. They are two different things", Davis
said. "The lights will be shining on
you and you won't even be able to see the audience. Please, Cale, I need you.
It's only for one night, I promise.
I'm going to put a stand-in on book right away, just in case Alan isn't
up to doing Sunday, but I need you for opening."
"Davis, I walk with a cane, for godssake. You can't expect that people will believe
I'm a military captain when they see me walk on stage with a cane," Logan
objected.
Davis shook his head.
"Naw, it'll be fine. The
audience will just believe that he was hurt at some point during his career. It'll make the character more tragic. Please, Logan, I wouldn't ask this of you if
I wasn't desperate."
The pleading look in Davis' eyes was more than Logan could
take. He glanced over at Max, who
shrugged. "I could help you learn your
lines," she offered. "I already know
the entire play."
Logan sighed, then looked back at Davis. "All right, I'll do it. Opening night only."
Davis smiled in relief.
"Thanks. I really owe you for
this one. We're going to start rehearsal
at eleven this morning, so you have a few hours to look the script over. I can't thank you enough. I'll name my next kid after you, I promise."
Logan laughed. "Yeah,
right. I'll see you at eleven." Davis grinned again and quickly left. Logan turned to Max and shook his head. "What have I gotten myself into now?"
~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Note: Fwiw, the kilt/doggy
story is a true one. I have never
laughed so hard in my life.