Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to claim that I own Dark Angel, I don't

Author's Note: Mucho thanks to my wonderful beta readers, Meg and Heather, who waited patiently for me to finish this extremely long chapter.  You two are the absolute best-est of the best!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 4 – Hell Week

Sunday

     Instead of going directly to the theatre, Max and Logan made a side stop to visit Alan.  It was a typical hospital room; lime green curtains in front of a dirty window, softly chirping monitors, and an IV tree with what looked like a half-deflated plastic octopus hanging from it.  It was a good thing that Alan was the only occupant, because the room was already filled with balloons, stuffed animals and plants from other members of the cast.  Max was hard-pressed to find an empty area to place their own gift; a plant and a large mylar balloon.  The balloon had a picture of what Logan had identified as 'The Cat in the Hat', along with the phrase 'Green Eggs and Ham: Hospital Fresh since 1960'.  Max didn't get it, but it made Alan laugh.  The three of them were chatting amicably when the duty nurse approached to give Alan his medication.  Shortly thereafter, Alan's eyelids started to sag.  Determined to let him get the rest he needed, Max and Logan said their goodbyes and headed for the theatre.

     Davis smiled a relieved smile when the couple walked into the auditorium.  He was dressed in another pair of faded blue jeans with a pale blue shirt that matched the color of his eyes.  Apparently, the dress code around here is casually comfortable, Max thought to herself.  She was glad that her own outfit of dark blue jeans, topped by a pale cream colored sweater, fit the relaxed atmosphere, yet wasn't so informal that it would give away their little charade.  Logan, as always, was dressed in his normal stylish manner consisting of a pair of snug blue jeans and a deep blue button down shirt that made his eyes seem even darker.

     As Max and Logan started down the aisle, Davis waved them over to where he was speaking with Debbie, the stage manager, and one of the other actors, a young man named Ron.  Debbie smiled a greeting at them, then returned her attention to Ron as he handed back the large 'Get Well' card he had just finished signing.  As they watched, he then handed Debbie some money, which she put away in a small zippered pouch.

     Once he had left, Logan nodded at the pouch in her hands.  "What's that for?"

     "We're taking up a collection among the other actors and stage crew to help Alan pay for his medical bills," Debbie replied.  "Even though he's with the guild and the company has insurance on him, he wasn't hurt while performing, so everything is coming directly out of his pocket.  It's kind of a tradition with theatre people.  If one of us gets hurt, the others pitch in to help offset the cost of getting fixed back up.

     "One of the hazards of being an actor," Davis added.  "Even in the old days, before the Pulse, many actors had to pay for their own health plans.  It's even worse now, because it's not regulated it anymore."  He shook his head sadly.  "For all that I complained about SAG and AFTRA, they at least made a token offer to help offset medical costs."

     Logan reached in his pocket.  "Here, add this to your collection," he said as he pulled a handful of bills out of his wallet.

     She smiled sweetly at him and waved the money away.  "Oh, no, no, that's all right," she said.  "You're here as an advisor.  You needn't donate any money.  Why, I wouldn't even presume to ask-"

     "You don't need to ask," Logan cut her off as he folded her fingers around it.  "Please, take it."

     Debbie looked at him a moment, then nodded.  "Thank you.  Everything we get is a big help," she replied.  Without even looking at the amount that Logan had given her, Debbie put the money in the pouch.  She handed Logan the card in return.  "I'm trying to get everyone to sign it.  Even though he puts on a good act, I know Alan is upset about having to miss out on the opening of the show.  We're going to have a 'welcome back' party for him when he gets out of the hospital on Wednesday.  It won't be much, but hopefully it'll cheer him up a bit.  It'll be held here, after rehearsal that night, if you're interested," she finished.

     "I think that would be nice.  Count us in," Max said as Logan handed her the pen to sign Alan's card.  Debbie smiled at both of them as Max added her well wishes and handed the card and pen back.  With a nod of thanks, Debbie approached another group that had just entered the auditorium, leaving Max and Logan standing alone with Davis.

     "Cale, I want to say thanks again for doing this," Davis said.  "You're really saving my ass here."

     "You owe me," Logan said, tapping Davis' chest with the curved handle of his cane.  "You owe me so big, you can't imagine it."

     Davis grinned.  "I already told you.  I'll name my next kid after you."

     "Since I know that you can't father any more children, that doesn't cut it."

     "When did I tell you about that?" Davis asked.

     "You didn't.  Kelli did."

     "Okay, I'll name my next dog after you."

     "Oh, there's a tribute."  Logan said sarcastically as he glanced over at Max and rolled his eyes.

     Davis laughed.  "Hey, my Thena-paws-puppa-girl gets more respect around my house than I do."

     "Then get her to do the part," Logan replied.

     "Naw."  Davis shook his head.  "She wouldn't be able to pull off the scientific stuff.  Has something to do with a lack of opposable thumbs.  That's the reason dogs don't rule the earth, you know," he turned to Max and nodded seriously at her.

     "No opposable thumbs?" she asked.

     "Yeah.  And the fact that humans aren't afraid of vacuum cleaners," he said.  He grinned as Max chuckled.  "All kidding aside, I am grateful that you're doing this, Cale."

     Logan shrugged, embarrassed.  "Yeah, well, it's only one night, so I guess I can live with that."

     "That's the spirit," Davis said.  "Look at the bright side.  At least no one is asking you to wear tights this time."

     "Tights?" Max asked.

     Logan glared at his friend.  "You just had to bring that up, didn't you?"

     "Tights?" Max repeated.

     "Of course I did.  It's in the friendship creed. 'Thou shalt embarrass thy friends in front of others, especially romantic interests, at every opportunity'.  Rule number three," Davis replied.

     Max paused, then decided to let the 'romantic interests' comment pass, at least for the time being.  "What about tights?" she asked.

     "Rule number two, actually," Logan said.  "Rule number three is 'Thou shalt keep thy friends' secrets to thyself, unless it's really funny to do otherwise', remember?

     "Wait a minute, I want to hear about tights," Max interjected.

     "Ah, right, right," Davis said.  "I always get those two rules mixed up."

     "Tell me the tights story," Max said.

     "Besides, I never did wear them," Logan said.

     "I'm gonna kill the both of you," Max muttered.

     "Not in the play, no," Davis agreed.

     "Is someone going to tell me this story, or not?" Max asked.

     "There's nothing to tell," Logan insisted.

     "Then why are you embarrassed about it?" she asked.

     "I'm not embarrassed," Logan replied.  "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

     "So then tell me," Max replied with infallible logic.

     He opened his mouth to respond when Jerry walked out on to the stage.  "Cale, we're ready to get started," he said.

     With a quick smile that looked suspiciously relieved, Logan shrugged.  "Listen, they need me up there, so … I gotta get going," he said.

     "Lo-gan," Max said in a low voice.

     "We'll talk later."

     Davis laughed as Logan made his escape to the stage.  He smothered it quickly as Max turned her steady gaze on him, although his eyes continued to twinkle with suppressed mirth.

     "Are you going to tell me the story?" she asked in a deceptively calm voice.

     Davis grinned.  "Truth be told, there really isn't anything to tell.  We both were in a one night only performance of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' back at Yale.  The costumes were period costumes, which included tights for the men."

     "And….?" Max prompted him.

     Davis' grin became even wider.  "And Cale was drunk off of his ass.  He remembers enough that he knows that he refused to wear the tights for the show, but for the last nine years or so, I've had him convinced that he did wear the tights in the bar that we went to after the show."

     Max's jaw dropped in amused shock.  "You're kidding."

     "Nope."

     "And he's gone on believing this for the last nine years?" she asked.  At Davis' nod, she started to laugh.  "Oh my god.  You are so … wicked."

     Davis nodded happily as he sank down into one of the plush seats.  "Yep.  And damn proud of it, too."

     "I love it," she said.  "Well, if it's gone on this long, I'm certainly not going to be the one to give it away."

     "I knew I could count on you."

     Max grinned at him, then turned to look at Logan up on the stage.  He was staring at the two of them, a very slight frown on his handsome features.  Max gave him a little wave as she sat down next to Davis.  She chuckled softly as Logan rolled his eyes and sighed at the sight of them sitting conspiratorially together.  Oh, yes, this is turning out to be a great vacation, she thought to herself.

     "All right, Cale, cross down left, towards Crystal, when you say that line," Jerry instructed.  "You've just realized that the woman you've been working side-by-side with for months was created using your DNA sequencing theories.  You're appalled and disgusted, because now she isn't the woman you thought she was.  Again, from the top of that page."

     Max crossed her arms and leaned forward until she was resting on the back of the seat in front of her.  She was fascinated by the way the play was emotionally, as well as physically, choreographed by the director.  It's like a dance.  Jerry's playing the characters off of each other, creating certain moods and tensions, but at the same time, allowing enough leeway to let the audience relate their own emotions to what's going on.

     "I think that is one of the best summaries I've ever heard," Davis agreed.

     Max looked up guiltily at him.  "I didn't realize that I said that out loud," she said.

     Davis smiled as he slid into the seat next to her.  "Jerry is actually a very good director," he said, nodding at the stage in front of them.  "He knows what emotion he wants to bring out in the characters and in the audience.  His blocking leaves something to be desired, but I'm working on that."

     "What's blocking?" Max asked.

     "Blocking is the way that the characters move in a scene.  The stage is broken up into three vertical parts; right, left, and center.  Stage right would be your right side as if you were standing on the stage facing the audience.  Stage left would be your left side.  Those three sections are then broken down further into upstage, which is towards the back of the stage, and downstage, which is towards the front.  Center stage is fairly self-explanatory, and follows the same rules for up center, down center, etcetera, etcetera."

     "So, when the director says 'Cross down left on that line', it means that the actor is to move towards the left hand corner of the stage closest to the audience?" Max asked.

     Davis nodded.  "Exactly."

     "And the actor is just supposed to remember all this, along with what emotions he should be acting out?"

     Davis shrugged.  "In some plays, if they're short enough and/or don't require a lot of physical movement, that's true.  In other plays, like this one, the stage manager will write down the all blocking for all the actors in her copy of the script and the individual actors will write down their own blocking and the director's instructions in their scripts.

     "Which is what Lo-," Max caught herself.  "Cale has been doing all morning.

     Davis nodded again, smiling at Max's near slip-up.  "Jerry takes his actors all the way through the play the first time out by sitting them all down at a table and having them do a reading.  During the reading, he gives them notes on what feelings he wants to get across.  That's what they did earlier this morning for Cale's benefit.  Now, they're physically going through the entire play."  He looked up at the stage and listened a moment before turning his attention back to Max.  "They've just finished act one and it looks like they're going to break for lunch."  He nodded to himself as Logan and the other actors began to leave the stage.

     Logan navigated his way off of the stage and headed directly for them, one hand absently running through his short hair as he approached.  "I am starving," he announced as he leaned against the seat in front of Max.

     "You always were a slave to your stomach," Davis said, laughing at the black look Logan threw at him.  "C'mon.  Get your coats and we'll go to that great little café that I took you to last week."  He looked over at Max.  "You ready for lunch?" he asked.

     Max nodded eagerly.  "One thing Cale will tell ya, I'm never one to pass up food," she replied.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Monday

     Max glanced up from the magazine she was reading as the sound of Logan's alarm softly penetrated the early morning silence.  Lazily, she stretched out on the couch, set down her magazine, and then padded towards the kitchen to start the coffee.  She had discovered that the kitchen pantry was stocked to the point of bursting during an earlier exploration of their cabin.  The place seemed more like a resort than the cozy cabin that belonged to Logan's family.  The front door opened on to a large living room, complete with a fireplace big enough that a small child could have stood up in it, a big-screen tv, complete with satellite hookup, and a very expensive surround-sound system.  To the right of the living room was an airy dining room, and beyond that, the kitchen with its well-stocked pantry.  Logan was stationed in the one and only bedroom on the first floor.  His bedroom, she had previously discovered, was attached to a good-sized bathroom that also opened out into the hall.  Opposite and slightly up the hall from Logan's room was a small meeting room that, despite its extreme cleanliness, looked as if it hadn't been used for quite a while.  Her own bedroom shared the second floor with another bedroom and an office.  Thankfully, she had her own attached bathroom; the other bathroom on the floor was obviously shared between the two other rooms.  The stairs to the second floor were on the far end of the living room, opposite the front door and fireplace, and lead to a hallway that overlooked the living room below.  All in all, the cabin screamed of opulence and luxury; from the hardwood floors to the thick, rich burgundy carpets in the living room and bedrooms.  Nope, definitely not a bad gig at all, if you can swing it, Max thought to herself as she measured out fresh beans into a grinder.  She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as the smell began to permeate the kitchen.  Trust Logan to bring his own supply of coffee, too.  I don't see how he can even stand the stuff they serve at the theatre when he usually drinks stuff this great.

     As if her thoughts had summoned him, Logan strode into the kitchen.  His hair was wetly spiking all over his head as he rubbed it dry with a towel.  He smiled warmly when he saw her.  "You're up awfully early," he said.

     Max shrugged and returned his smile.  She was having a difficult time keeping her eyes on his face, as he was standing in front of her in nothing but a pair of black button-fly jeans.  A faint sheen of moisture lightly dusted his muscular shoulders.  Involuntarily, Max felt her gaze slide along his chest.  Miniscule beads of water, caught up in the crinkly hair, winked at her in the pre-dawn light.  She quickly put her hands behind her back to keep from reaching out to touch him and forced herself to meet his eyes.  "You know that I only sleep a few hours a night," she replied, keeping her voice carefully light.  "I just figured that I'd at least get the coffee going so it'll be ready when you're finished making breakfast."

     Logan laughed.  "Ok, I guess my assignment has been handed out."

     Max snorted.  "Well, I know you certainly don't want me to try to make us breakfast, unless you're willing to settle for cereal."

     "Oh, I don't know.  I wouldn't mind you making breakfast for us some morning."  His voice was a little huskier than usual as he gazed down into her eyes.  Before she could formulate a reply, Logan continued, "Now, how do waffles sound to you?  Fresh strawberries.  Maybe a little whipped cream…."  He trailed off and looked at her, one eyebrow arched questioningly at her.

     Max nodded.  "Chef Cale, the kitchen is yours."

*******

     Crystal stood silently on the stage with the other eleven actors that were playing the test soldiers.  The scene they were currently rehearsing called for all of them to be standing at attention.  Any other time, Crystal would have hated having to hold the position for as long as the scene required; it made her back hurt.  This time, however, things were different.  It wasn't Alan that was pacing back and forth in front of her; it was Cale.  Each time he passed her, she arched her back slightly and stuck her chest out at him.  The first time she had done it, he stumbled on his line, a red flush staining his cheeks.  His reaction caused a warm tingle of satisfaction to engulf her.  He was so adorable when he was embarrassed.  She was glad that she'd worn a tight pair of white jeans and an equally tight, checkered blouse to rehearsal today.  The shirt was unbuttoned farther down than she normally would have had it, but the upside was that it showed off her cleavage rather nicely.  A pair of white leather boots and a gold belt completed her ensemble and from the looks of appreciation she received from some of the other actors, she was satisfied that she struck a posing figure.

     Casually, she let her gaze rest on his back, or more accurately, his ass, as he passed in front of her.  His cane tapped lightly on the stage as he headed towards the opposite end of the line of actors.  He was wearing his black jeans again today.  His shirt was light tan in color and made his skin glow.  His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his collar was unbuttoned.  She saw a tuft of chest hair peeking out from underneath his shirt every time he passed her.  Crystal wondered if it was as soft as it looked.  When he turned around again at the opposite end of the line, she caught his eye and licked her lips in a very obvious invitation.  He blinked.  An unreadable expression crossed his face for a brief instant, then fled as he continued with his monologue.  As the scene came to a close, Crystal turned with the others and began to move off the stage.  When she passed Cale, she let one hand quickly brush along his hip.  Another blink.  Another glance.  Crystal smiled slightly to herself, pleased with the progress she was making as she left the stage.

     "All right, take a short break, and then we'll pick up with the next scene," Jerry shouted down at the stage.

     Crystal watched as Cale and a couple of the other actors made their way off of the stage and to the coffee machine sitting forlornly amid a pile of styrofoam cups and stale doughnuts.  Timing her pace carefully, she approached him just as he was taking his first sip of the lukewarm liquid.  "Has anyone ever told you that you are a very good actor, Cale?" she asked.

     Logan eyed her over the rim of his cup, wondering where she was going to try to take this conversation.  Affecting an air of what he hoped was interpreted as polite non-interest; he shook his head in negation.  "No, I don't believe so," he replied.

     Crystal smiled sweetly at him.  "Have you ever done any acting before?" she asked.

     "Briefly, when I was in collage," he replied.  "It wasn't anything spectacular."

     "So you decided to forego the stage and become an author instead," she said.

     Logan nodded.

     "It's amazing, really," she continued.  "So many of us come from such different backgrounds, and yet we've all ended up here for this play.  Do you believe in fate, Cale?"

     "I don't think I understand what you mean," Logan temporized.

     "Fate, kismet, destiny.  Maybe we were destined to meet.  Maybe fate took a hand in all this and caused Alan to get hurt, just so you and I could be in this play together."

     "I wouldn't call it fate," Logan muttered.  "More like an occupational hazard."

     Crystal frowned slightly, deciding to try another tactic.  "And since we are in this play together, I think we need to find out a little more about each other.  So that we'll be more comfortable when we're up there on stage as tragic star-crossed lovers."  Crystal moved a little closer to him and ran one finger down his arm.  "For instance, what do you like?  What kind of hobbies do you have when you're not writing?  What is it," she breathed, "that turns you on?"

     "Uhhh, I really don't think that that kind of information is necessary," Logan said.

     "Oh, but it is," Crystal replied.  "I want to know everything there is to know about you.  Like why is it that you are trying so hard to appear that you're not interested in me."

     Logan paused, trying to find a gentle way to tell her that it was because he truly wasn't interested in her.

     Before he could respond, Crystal posed another question.  "Are you gay?" she asked bluntly.

     For a brief instant, a fraction of a heartbeat, Logan considered telling her that he was gay.  The notion was just as quickly dismissed.  I'm already pretending to be Cale Anson, the author, he thought to himself.  I don't know that I could handle being Cale Anson, the gay author.  "Ahh, no, I'm not gay," he said.

     Crystal smirked.  "I know.  I just wanted to hear you say it.  So, is there someone else that shares your bed during these long winter nights?"  She was truly interested in hearing his answer to her question.  I don't think he's married, she thought to herself.  But if he were, that would explain why he's trying to play down his interest in that skinny Nicole-child.  If he's not married and tells me that he's not attached to anyone, that means that he's probably ashamed of admitting that he likes her.  The same applies if he tells me he is seeing someone.  Even if it's Nicole, he's been trying to hide it, which still means that he's ashamed of her.

     Logan was dumbfounded.  He desperately tried to find a response that would dissuade Crystal, but nothing was coming to mind.  Oh God, Max, where are you now that I need you to rescue me? he wondered.

     "All right, time's up," Jerry called from the stage.  He looked over to where Crystal and Logan were standing.  "Come on, you two.  Get up here so we can start the next scene."

     Crystal looked at Jerry, then turned her attention back to Logan.  "I guess we'll have to finish our little conversation later," she said.

     Not if I can help it, Logan thought.  He watched her return to the stage, then closed his eyes and sighed deeply.  Why did I let Davis talk me into this?  He took a swig of his coffee and grimaced.  It was bad enough that it was lousy coffee to being with, but now it was cold lousy coffee.  Tossing the nearly full cup into the trash, he sighed again.

     "Cale, we're waiting," Jerry peevishly stated.

     Slowly, Logan started for the stage.  Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll trip and break my leg or something.  He snorted.  Yeah, and Hell is now a vacation ski resort.  With a resigned shake of his head, Logan joined the other actors and began rehearsal once more.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tuesday

     Max leaned back in her seat as she watched yet another rehearsal.  She had noticed Crystal's overt attention towards Logan and she wasn't sure that she liked it.  No, she was damn positive that she didn't like it.  Not one bit.  Logan hadn't said anything about it, but the look of absolute relief he threw her way when he saw her sitting in the audience was enough to convince her that she wasn't imagining the extra attention Crystal was slathering on him.  She was slightly relieved to note that he obviously didn't enjoy Crystal's pursuits anymore than Max did.  But what could she do about it?  Hang her from her ankles from the top of the theater and tell her to stay away from Logan? Max considered the thought for a moment, then discarded it.  No, that would compromise the image that we're trying to maintain.  As much as it appealed to her, Max knew that any obvious reaction from her would probably just complicate matters.  What about a non-obvious reaction? She wondered.  Like rat poison.  Or tying her up and leaving her naked in a shopping cart in front of some truck stop.  Personally, I like the rat poison idea, but that's too permanent, even for Crystal.  Max sighed.  Nothing was coming to mind.  I suppose I'll just have to make sure that I'm always close enough to Logan to rescue him when he needs me.

     Max smiled at Logan as he sank into the seat next to her.  "You're doing really well up there," she said.  "Am I correct in thinking that Jerry is actually going to let you guys leave for the night, or is this just another break?" she asked.

     "We're done for tonight," Logan replied.  He was about to say something else when he noticed that Max was staring over his shoulder, a carefully blank expression on her face.  He turned to see what had caught her attention and groaned softly to himself as Crystal started walking towards them.

     "Cale, I was wondering if you would be able to meet with me later this evening and give me some more character motivation," she said, completely ignoring Max altogether.

     Max arched an eyebrow at the other woman as she casually got up out of her seat.  Crystal was a couple of inches shorter than she was, so standing forced the other girl to look up at her.  Always try face your enemy from a position of strength, a voice from her past whispered in her head.  When in a face-to-face confrontation, whether physical or verbal, you gain a psychological advantage if your level of attack is physically higher than that of your opponent.  If you are unable to achieve a higher level, then make sure that you are on an equal level.  "You mean you still don't have the motivation down?" she asked.

     Crystal gave her a cold look.  "Of course I have the motivation down.  I'm just looking to bring the character to a more personal level," she replied.

     "Then maybe you should work with me instead," Max said.  "I know the story and Jessica's character motivation just as well as Cale."  She looked over at Logan and grinned slightly.  "Perhaps even better, in some respects."  Logan's lips quirked, but he managed to keep a straight face at Max's statement.

     "I don't think there's any way you would be able to offer me anything of use," Crystal said.

     "Really," Max answered.  "Then tell me, when Michael gives Jessica the stuffed teddy bear as a gift, why does she initially throw it away?"

     "Because she doesn't want to embarrass him by refusing it," Crystal answered.

     Max cocked her head to one side.  "But wouldn't a better motivation be that it's because she somehow knows that if she accepts the gift, then she's starting to admit to herself, somewhere deep down inside, that by accepting it, she is really accepting the fact that she cares about him?"

     "It's all a matter of personal interpretation!" Crystal nearly yelled, glaring up at Max.

     Max smiled at her.  "If it's all a matter of personal interpretation, then why would you need Cale to give you motivation?" Max asked with flawless logic.  "It seems to me that you already have the motivation down."

     Crystal's eyes narrowed as she stared at Max, unable to come up with a feasible retort.  Angrily, she turned on one heel and stormed up the aisle and out of the auditorium.

     Max smiled to herself, then looked down at Logan, who was still seated.  "I guess she changed her mind," she said wryly.

     Logan smiled up at Max, his eyes glowing with approval.  Slowly, he stood up and moved closer to her, taking her hand in his own.  "Thank you," he said quietly, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze.

     "No big dealio," she replied with a shrug.  She didn't let go of his hand as she inched even closer to him.  Just being around Crystal put her hackles up, and she felt the sudden need to establish her place in her confusing relationship with Logan.  As she looked up into his eyes, she lost herself in a bottomless ocean of blue.  The world around her faded; suddenly, nothing mattered except the way he was looking at her right now.  A shiver ran up her spine as he began to run his fingers along her wrist and the pad of her thumb.  They were standing face-to-face now; so close that she could feel the heat coming off of his body.  Her heart was pounding in her chest as he stared down at her.  She kept waiting for a little voice to tell her to move away, to escape while she still had time, but strangely enough, the voice was silent.

     Logan gazed tenderly into the face that he knew almost better than his own.  Her eyes had darkened to a deep, rich coffee color and he was quickly drowning in their depths.  His blood raged through his body; much of it settling in his loins.  Logan wasn't sure if he was grateful or not, that she didn't seem to be aware of his obvious arousal.  Throwing caution to the wind, he reached up and slid his free hand along her cheek.  A soft sigh escaped her lips as he let his fingers slip behind her neck and gently caress her barcode.  It seemed that the world had slipped into slow motion as the distance between their bodies gradually evaporated.  "Max," Logan began in a soft voice.  "I-

     The loud sound of laughter suddenly intruded on them as three actors walked onto the stage, obviously on their way to their respective cabins.  Immediately, Max and Logan both stepped back, opening the space between them to a more professionally acceptable level.  They both nodded in response to a chorus of good-byes as the actors passed them on their way to the lobby.  Thankfully, not one seemed to have noticed what their entrance had interrupted.

     "C'mon," Max said into the silence that now permeated the auditorium.  "Let's head back to the cabin and get something to eat.  After dinner, we can go over any areas of the play that you're still having difficulty with."

     Logan sighed, resigning himself to yet another lost chance of possibilities.  "You have no idea how many times I've thanked the fates that you have such a perfect memory.  Half the time I can't even read my own notes on what I should be doing or where I should be doing it."

     Max laughed.  "Like I said before, you're doing really well.  You'll probably be off book by tomorrow or Thursday."

     "I hope you're right."

     "Haven't you learned yet that except when I'm wrong, I'm always right."

     Logan chuckled.  "Right.  C'mon.  I think I hear a couple of steaks calling our names."

     "So what are we waiting for?  Let's go."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Wednesday

     "So tell me, Cale, how long have you and Max known each other?" Davis asked as he finished the beer he held.

     Logan looked across the table at his friend and hesitated before answering.  They were alone in the backstage conference room, waiting for Debbie to return from picking Alan up at the hospital, so there wasn't any danger of being overheard.  Due to the acoustical set-up of the backstage area, they would hear the sound of footsteps long before anyone reached the door.  So, instead of congregating with everyone else while they waited for Alan to arrive, they had retreated to the quiet confines of the small room.  Max had volunteered to get them all another round of drinks, and had left only seconds before Davis posed his question.

     Logan set his own beer down on the table and leaned back in his chair.  "Just a little over half a year or so," he replied.  "Why?"

     Davis ignored the question.  "How did the two of you meet?"

     Logan smiled to himself in remembrance.  "Oh, she just dropped in on me one night," he casually replied.  "I had a statue that had caught her eye, but she ended up leaving without it."

     Davis arched an eyebrow, knowing full well that there was much more to that story than was being shared.  "So how did Max end up having to protect your sorry ass?" he asked.  "Not that I'm criticizing your choice in bodyguards, but if I recall, some guy named Peter was working for you before."

     Logan nodded.  "Peter was killed shortly after I met Max," he said, answering Davis' second question first.  "As for Max, she, ah, helps me with some of the projects I work on in exchange for research that she needs done."  Logan paused for a moment.  "It's turned out to be a mutually beneficial business arrangement for the both of us."

     "Business arrangement," Davis repeated.  "Are you trying to convince me of that, or yourself?"  When his friend didn't answer, Davis sighed.  "Don't kid yourself, Logan.  I've known her for less than a week, and it's obvious to me that you've fallen hard."  He raised a finger to silence Logan's protest.  "No, hear me out.  I think she's good for you.  I like her.  And it's also obvious that she feels the same way about you.  You just aren't able to recognize what you really have here."

     "Isn't this the same pep talk you gave me when I told you I was going to marry Valerie?" Logan asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

     Davis shook his head and leaned forward intently.  "Nope, this one's a little different.  Valerie was trying to climb the social ladder using you as a rung.  She wasn't interested in anything beyond where your money could take her.  The problem was that you refused to see what was staring you in the face.  You're doing the same thing now, but at the complete opposite end of the spectrum."

     Footsteps, ending in a brief knock, forstalled Logan's response.  Before either man could get to the door, it opened to reveal Max on the other side, drinks in hand along with a small plate of cheese and crackers.  Both Logan and Davis stood as she approached the table, but it was Logan that took the bottles from her as she put the food down and settled into the chair next to his.

     Due to the way that the conversation in the room had suddenly stopped when she knocked at the door, Max had a sneaking suspicion that she was the topic of choice.  She looked back and forth between the two men, but neither one was giving anything away.  Logan distributed the drinks between the three of them, then sank back down into his chair.

     Leaning back once more, Davis took a long swig of his fresh beer then looked at Max from across the small table.  "I was just telling Cale how much he has impressed everyone with the way he's thrown himself into the play," Davis said.  "Jerry was a little concerned at first, but now he's convinced that Cale here is the best thing since denture implants."  Davis looked across at Logan and shook his head ruefully.  "I guess it's a good thing he doesn't know you as well as I do, huh?" he asked, a grin playing at his lips.

     "Hey, I was going to eat that!" Max protested as Logan grabbed a piece of cheese out of her hand and threw it at his friend.

     Davis laughed.  "You know, I am definitely going to have to get the two of you down to Hollywood to visit one of these days."  He looked over at Max again.  "I think that you and my wife, Kelli, would hit it off perfectly."

     Logan nodded.  "Either that, or they'd kill each other," he agreed.  "Kelli is one hundred percent Irish alley-cat, with flaming red hair and green eyes that match her, ah, disposition.  She's a little bit of a thing and I actually thought she had good taste in men until she married Davis there."

     Davis raised his beer in silent salute and took a large draught.  "Yeah, I've always wondered about that, too," he said.  A loud tumult of shouted salutations suddenly echoed from the front of the stage.  "I guess Debbie has returned with Alan," Davis said.  He stood and picked up the plate of food, motioning to the door with his beer.  "Let's go join the party."

   As the trio returned to the front of the stage, one of the first things that Max noticed was the happy camaraderie between the actors and the crew as they enjoyed the festive atmosphere.  It was as if they were all at a family reunion or something.  Alan was in the midst of a large crowd, grinning from ear to ear as a plate of food was pressed into his hands, along with liberal doses of kisses and hugs from many of the female party-goers.  No one had let the secret out, so he was genuinely surprised to come back to such a warm display of affection.  Two tables had been set up to one side of the stage, groaning with the weight of massive amounts of food.  Another two smaller tables flanked either end of the spread one containing paper plates, napkins and eating utensils and the other containing two coolers full of beer and soda.  Max was silently amazed at the number of people that had turned out at the party.  She recognized a good number of the actors, but apart from Davis, who had somehow managed to get pulled away from them, Jerry and Debbie, she realized that she knew only about a handful of the crew.  She looked up as Logan touched her elbow, indicating a place for them to sit.

     "I'll get us some food and bring it back," he said.

     Max nodded, then turned to make her way to their chosen seats.  Just as she sat down, she noticed Crystal standing only a few feet away.  The older woman studied her for a moment, her expression unreadable, then sauntered over and sat in the empty seat next to her.

     "I'm surprised to see you here," Crystal said.

     Max looked into the other girl's eyes.  "And why would that be?" she asked.

     Crystal shrugged.  "Well, I'm sure it's past your bedtime, and I've no doubt that you have so much to do as an assistant to an author…" she trailed off as if a thought had suddenly struck her.  "Just what is it exactly that you do for Cale, anyway?" she asked.

     "Oh, I gather … information and items … that he needs to do his work.  Kinda like recon missions," Max replied.

     "Really," Crystal said.  "I would have expected you to be the one who colored in the pictures in the books he's written for children."

     Max shook her head and smiled sweetly at Crystal.  "No, Cale has never written a children's book, which is probably the reason why you've never read any of his work.  I'd loan you one, but I think the words might be too hard to understand."

     Crystal glared up at Max.  "I think Cale really needs to find an … assistant … who knows how to respect her betters."

     "I'll let you know when I actually meet someone who fits that description."

     Angrily, Crystal brought back her hand and swung it at Max's face.  Max blocked the slap long before it reached her, twisting around so that Crystal's elbow was firmly locked against the crook of Max's arm.  A whimper escaped the other girl's lips as Max slowly applied pressure to the wrong side of the joint.

     "I really think you should go visit with someone else, and leave both Cale and I alone.  You have an entire career in front of you.  You really don't want to mess it up my making me angry, do you," Max casually stated.  Crystal shook her head.  "Good," Max said.  Carefully, she stood up, releasing the other girl.  Crystal stared darkly at Max, rubbing her elbow.  Max returned the stare blankly, letting the cold, hard visage of a killer peek out through her dark eyes.  The expression was second nature to her; it was the one that she had worn for most of her childhood years while growing up in the hellhole known as Manticore.  Crystal blanched and involuntarily stepped back, eyes wide with apprehension.  Without another word, the other woman spun on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

     "Max?" a quiet voice whispered questioningly in her ear.

     Max looked up to see Logan standing next to her, a plate of food in one hand.  She blinked rapidly, bringing herself back to the present, and then smiled hesitantly at him.  "Sorry.  I was gone for a minute there."

     "Yeah, I noticed," he replied.  He had caught the tail end of the little drama, right when Max had stopped Crystal from hitting her.  He didn't catch Max's whispered words to the other woman, but he had seen the ruthless look of a soldier slide behind her eyes as she stared at Crystal.  The same eyes that were staring into his right now, waiting for his condemnation of her actions.  He chuckled to himself, noting the look of surprise that flickered across her face.  "I thought you were supposed to kick her lily-white ass from here to Ontario, not put her in an elbow lock," he said softly.  He picked up a slice of cheese and held it out towards her.

     Instead of taking it from him, Max captured his hand in hers and bit off a small piece of the offered tidbit.  "Don't put it past me," she mumbled as she let him feed her a second bite before releasing his hand.  "I still might do it."

     "Which one?"

     Max shrugged.  "Which ever one is needed at the time."

     Logan grinned down at her.  "Knowing you, it'll probably end up being both," he said.  "C'mon, let's give our regards to Alan before he collapses from sheer overwhelming elation from this party of his."

     As Max and Logan made their way through the crowd, Crystal watched the couple from across the room.  You little bitch! She thought as she massaged her arm again.  How dare you threaten me like that!  I think its time Cale found out what you really are and when he does, then we'll see where your high-and-mighty attitude gets you.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Thursday

     "I have no idea where it is!" Logan said.  "I had it just a couple of minutes ago.  I thought I set it down with the rest of our stuff, but it's not there anymore."

     "Are you sure you had it with you?"

     "Yeah.  I remember pulling it out of my bag and setting it down on top of the notes that Jerry gave me last night before the party."

     Max frowned as she studied the pile of papers sitting inoffensively in the theatre seat in front of them.  They had arrived only moments before, when Logan suddenly realized that his script was missing.  He had frantically searched his coat pockets, Max's backpack, and his small binder of papers and notes, all to no avail.

     "Maybe it fell out when we were on our way in from the car," she offered.  "I'll retrace our steps while you keep looking here."  Logan nodded absently at her, sifting through their stuff once more as Max slowly made her way back towards the lobby.  Her quick eyes scanned the aisle as she walked along it, looking for any sign of a well-used script.  Carefully, she traced their exact steps.  Once she reached the car, she opened it up and meticulously searched the interior.  Nothing.  Max sighed and frowned slightly to herself.  She pulled up the collar of her coat, more for something to do with her hands than out of need to protect herself against the weather.  Truthfully, she was comfortable out of doors in just the mid-sleeve turtleneck sweater and form-fitting jeans that she had tossed on earlier that morning, but there were appearances to uphold.  With a slight "Hmph", Max returned to the theatre.

     Logan looked up as Max strode up to him, then ran one hand through his short hair when she briskly shook her head.  "Ok, what did we do when we got here?" he asked.

     "We walked into the lobby and stopped to say hello to Debbie, who's still drinking her coffee up there.  We came down the middle aisle, stopped to drop off our stuff here, then you went to talk to Davis and I went back up into the lobby to get us some coffee.  When I came back, that's when you noticed that your script was missing."

     Logan nodded.  "And when I went to talk to Davis, we were just standing right over there next to the stage."  He sighed angrily.  "I must have left it back at the cabin.  Dammit.  I was sure that I had it with me this morning."  He glared at the messy pile of papers.

     "It really doesn't matter, you know.  You're pretty much off book, so you shouldn't need the script."

     Logan chuckled sardonically.  "You have too much trust in my abilities," he told her.

     "Trust?  Me?  The cynical 'I don't need anyone' bitch of the northwest?" Max asked with a grin.  "I think the problem is that you're using that script like a security blanket.  Something to hide behind."

     "Like a Halloween mask?"  A ghost of a smile played at his lips.

     "Red, white and blue," she replied.  "You can do this, Cale.  I know you can.  You don't need the script," Logan shrugged halfheartedly, refusing to look at her as he gazed at the ground.  Max felt her heart constrict.  At times like this, he reminded her of a little boy that she just wanted to take into her arms and hold and make silly promises that everything would work out for the better.  Instead, she reached out and tapped him beneath his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers.  "Listen, I'll go back to the cabin and look around, okay?  I shouldn't be gone that long; fifteen, twenty minutes, tops."

     Logan smiled down at her.  "You don't need to go look for it.  I'm … I'm sure I'll manage to get along without it."

     "I'm sure you would, too, but am I right in thinking that you would feel much better if you did have it?" she asked.  He nodded.  "That's what I thought.  I'll be back in a flash."  With another smile, Max turned and headed back up the aisle and out of the auditorium.

     He watched her until she had vanished through the lobby doors.  Sighing, he turned back to search through their things once more, somehow knowing that this effort was as futile as the last one.

     Crystal smiled as she watched Nicole hop into the car and head back towards the cabin she shared with Cale.  She walked back through the lobby and into the auditorium, absently tapping Cale's script into her palm as she moved.  She paused at the top of the long aisle, studying Cale as he tore through his belongings yet again.  Silently, she made her way past him, heading for the backstage area.  She returned only moments later, empty handed.  After a couple more minutes of watching him, she smoothed down her long, velvety green silk shirt.  It was loosely belted over a pair of tan, form-fitting jeans.  Her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled neatly back, wispy curls framing her face.  Slowly, she sauntered over to where Cale was standing.  He was so intent on his search that he didn't hear her approach until she delicately cleared her throat from behind him.  Startled, he whipped around and stared at her.

     "Did you lose something?" she asked, innocently blinking her pale blue eyes at him.

     "Uh, yeah.  My script seems to have gone missing."

     "Do you remember where you had it last?"

     "I was sure I had it when Nicole and I arrived," he said.

     "Maybe she forgot it," Crystal said.  "I mean, she's your assistant, and it's her job, but she's awfully young to have such responsibilities like that.  She's practically a child, thrust into an adult's world.  She's bound to become confused and start making mistakes."

     Logan paused.  He wasn't willing to get into a discussion about the age difference between he and Max, especially not with Crystal, but her snide comment about Max's competence struck a defensive chord in him.  "I think Nicole is more than qualified in handling just about anything."

     Crystal smiled sweetly at him.  "It's so good to see someone who has faith in the abilities of their employees."

     He sighed.  "Crystal, was there something you needed me for?"  As soon as he said the words, Logan regretted them.

     But it was too late to take them back, and Crystal pounced on the question eagerly.  "Well, yes, now that you mention it.  But I figured you for a man who didn't discuss things like that quite as … openly," she replied.

     Logan stared at her, but didn't answer.

     Crystal chuckled.  "Don't worry.  I just wanted to offer my help with whatever it was you were looking for.  Nothing more than that," she paused and looked at him from beneath her lashes.  "At least, nothing more right now," she finished.

     Logan shook his head.  "Ah, thanks anyway.  But I don't need any help searching for my script.  I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere."

     "I'm sure it will," she agreed.  "But I've been working with you all week, and I don't think you need the script anymore.  Here, sit down next to me."  Crystal seated herself and looked up at him expectantly.  "Don't worry.  I just want to go over lines with you.  We'll both be sitting in plain sight of everyone, rehearsing our lines like all good actors do."  She reached out and patted the seat next to her, smiling innocently at him.

     Logan hesitated.  She was obviously trying to be helpful, and he did want to go over his lines, but without his script, he was a little lost.  Sighing, he sank into the seat next to her.

     Crystal smiled brilliantly at him.  "Great.  Let's start from where Jessica and Michael meet for the first time, shall we?"  At his nod, she smiled again, well pleased with her success.

     The first thing Max noticed when she entered the auditorium was Crystal's head inclined towards Logan's.  They were smiling at each other and as she started walking down the aisle, she saw Logan laugh quietly and lean back in his seat.  He broke off what he was about to say to the other woman when he finally noticed Max approaching.

     "You were right," he said to her without preamble.  "We've been going over our lines, and I'm actually doing fairly well, even without the script."

     Max arched and eyebrow at him and smiled slightly.  "Well, I guess that's a good thing, because I couldn't find it in the cabin."

     Logan shook his head.  "I have no idea what happened to it," he said.  "Oh well, I guess it all worked out for the best, right?"

     Max nodded.  She still didn't like walking back in to find him so involved with the other woman, but all they were doing was running their lines.  She had seen the other actors in the play doing the exact same thing.  Nothing underhanded or deceitful about it at all.  Just because she didn't like them sitting so close together, it didn't mean that something else was going on.  But then why do I feel like Crystal has something up her sleeve?  Max wondered.  She shook herself out of her reverie as Jerry shouted for all the actors to get into place.

     Crystal stood up and absently smoothed down her shirt.  She smiled winningly at Logan.  "You did good.  See you up on stage," she said.  Without waiting for his reply, she turned and headed for where the other actors were congregating around Jerry.

     Logan watched her, a perplexed expression on his face.  Shaking his head, he stood up and grabbed his notebook.  "Thanks for going to look for my script," he told her.

     "No big dealio."

     "But it is a big deal.  I just want to let you know that I appreciate it."

     Max smiled at him.  "You're welcome," she said.  "I'm glad you really don't need it, though."  She cocked her head towards the other actors.  "Now, you'd better get over there before Jerry starts yelling for you."

     Before he could answer, Jerry's voice bellowed out again.  "Cale, we're waiting."

     Logan shrugged.  "Too late."  With another smile for her, Logan turned and made his way to the stage.

     "Hey, Nicole, want to go with me to pick up some lunch?" Davis asked her as he headed down the aisle towards the stage.

     Max looked over her shoulder at him, then back at the action that was still going on in front of her.  "Might as well," she replied.  "Hopefully, they'll break for lunch once this scene is done."  She stretched as she rose from the chair.  "The little Italian deli today?"

     Davis raised his hands and shrugged.  "Sounds good to me," he replied.  "If we leave now, we'll probably make it back right as they're finishing up."

     "Well then, let's go."

     "Okay, break for lunch," Jerry called out.  "We'll get back together in an hour.  Don't be late."

     As the actors started filing off the stage, heading into the auditorium or back to the kitchen area, Logan looked around for Max.  He didn't see her sitting in the theatre, but he was sure he would have noticed if she had gone backstage.  After another glance around the rapidly emptying auditorium, Logan moved off the stage and into the wings.  He passed through the back door that led to the hall that ran along the back of the stage.  As he walked along the corridor, he checked the kitchen and both conference rooms.  He even went as far as to check Davis' small office to see if his friend was introducing Max to more skeletons from Logan's closet.  Nothing.  He ended up in what was formerly Alan's dressing room; now his up through the opening of the play.  She wasn't there, either.

     "If I recall, think I saw Nicole leaving the theatre with Rich," a voice said from the door behind him.

     Logan turned to find Crystal standing in the entryway.  "What?"

     "You're assistant.  I think I saw her leaving with Rich, right before we finished that last scene," she repeated.  "They were probably going to get lunch or something, I'm sure."

     "Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense," Logan said.  He stared down at the table, wondering how he missed seeing her leave.

     "If you like, we could run some more of our lines," Crystal said, interrupting his thoughts.

     "Aren't you going to eat lunch?"

     Crystal nodded.  "Yeah, I am.  Joey and Kathy went to pick up their lunch, and are bringing me something back.  We'll have more than enough time to rehearse a few scenes."

     "Here?" Logan asked.

     "Sure," she replied.  She walked into his dressing room, being very careful to close the door only slightly.  It wasn't enough to give the impression that complete privacy was desired, but it was enough to discourage any non-important interruptions.  "How about we start from where Michael rescues the test soldiers and run it through the end?" she asked.

     Logan nodded as he sank into one of the comfortable chairs that decorated the room.  Crystal brushed her hair out of her face with an unconscious gesture, sitting down in the chair opposite his.  "We'll probably need to stand up after a bit, considering how physical the play gets from this point, what with Michael having to help Jessica walk when they escape, but I think we can manage it in here, don't you?"

     Absently, Logan looked around the room and nodded.  "Yeah, it should work out," he said.

     Crystal leaned back in her chair, a slight smile on her face.  "Great.  So, let's get started."

     Max was laughing at another one of Davis' anecdotes when they walked into the theatre lobby.  Several actors were milling around; some were eating their lunches, others were chatting amicably as they lounged in the soft chairs, and yet others were silently mouthing their lines.  Davis lead the way through the crowd, his hands full of the food they had picked up.  Behind him, Max carried their drinks.  They descended into a hushed auditorium.  Lunch time is the only time in which the place is quiet enough to hear yourself think, Max realized.  Any other time, the set crew is still building stuff or the sound crew is testing microphones, or everyone else is rehearsing.  She glanced around, looking for Logan, but didn't see him anywhere.

     "I think Cale is backstage," Debbie shouted at them from across the theatre.

     Max smiled her thanks to the stage manager as she and Davis climbed up on to the stage and headed for the wings.  Max heard Logan speaking to someone the minute she stepped into the backstage hallway.  His dressing room was at the opposite end of the hall, but her exceptional hearing picked up the timbre of his voice immediately.  Frowning, Max realized that he wasn't alone either, as the sound of a second, lighter voice replied to some question that was asked.  She started to turn to look back at Davis quizzically, then discarded the notion.  There was no way he could have heard the voices, just as there was no way he could know who Logan was speaking to.  Silently, Max walked down the hall until she reached Logan's dressing room.  The voices were much louder now, but still indistinct.  Max reached out and swung open the partially closed door, curious to see if the room's other occupant was whom she believed it to be.

     Her instincts were proven correct as Crystal looked up at Max.  The other woman was sitting on the floor of Logan's dressing room.  He was kneeling next to her, his arm wrapped around her as she slumped against him.  Logan blinked at Max, a sudden flush creeping into his face as he realized how his proximity to Crystal could easily be misconstrued as something else entirely.  As Max moved into the room, Logan realized that Davis was right behind her.  He groaned to himself softly.

     "Cale, you really don't have to spend all your time rehearsing," Davis said.

     Logan looked up at his friend, instantly realizing that Davis was giving him an out.  Even though the situation was entirely innocent, it didn't look that way.  At Davis' words, Max's face relaxed slightly.  Slowly, Logan released the breath he didn't even know he had been holding.  Embarrassed, he grinned at them both.  "Yeah, you're right," he said.  "I guess I just want to get the show over with, so I'm trying to hurry it along with all this rehearsing."  Pushing himself to his feet, Logan instinctively reached down to give Crystal a hand up

     Crystal smiled demurely at Logan and murmured her thanks as she accepted his assistance, but Max caught the brief flicker of triumph that peeked through the other woman's eyes.  It's just Logan being a gentleman, Max sternly told herself as a band seemed to constrict around her heart.  He's just being his normal self.  His chivalrous, kind, softhearted, idiotic, oblivious-to-the-world-around-him self.  She carefully kept her face blank as she met Crystal's eyes, not wanting her to see the self-doubt that lurked within.

     Crystal smiled secretly to herself.  She hadn't missed the sudden flash of pain that eclipsed Nicole's face when she opened the door.  And when Cale helped her to her feet, she saw Nicole's lips tighten almost imperceptibly.  Hiding her excitement, Crystal turned to look up at Cale.  "Well, I'll leave you to your lunch.  Joey and Kathy should be back by now, so I'd better go find them before they devour my food as well as their own."  She turned to face Nicole and Davis.  "See ya later."  Nodding politely at them both, she walked out of the room.

     Max didn't say a word as she set the drinks down on a table.  Truthfully, she didn't trust herself not to say something that she might regret later.  Who says that I haven't learned how to keep my mouth shut? She silently asked herself.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Davis follow her lead and set his own packages down as well.  Taking a deep breath, Max reached over and started doling out the food.  She could feel Logan's eyes on her back, but she refused to turn around to look at him.  "They didn't give us any napkins," she said to no one in particular.  "I'll go get some."  Carefully making sure not to touch Logan on her way out, she scooted past him and headed down the hall towards the kitchen.

     Logan sighed as he watched Max leave.  He looked over at his friend, but Davis was studiously separating french fries into three neat piles.  "I suppose I could have handled that better."

     Davis nodded.  "Yep."

     "We were just rehearsing.  Max should know that."

     "I've no doubt that she does."

     "Then why do I get the feeling that she's trying very hard not to kill me where I stand?"

     He was answered by a brief bark of laughter.  "I hope you don't expect me to be able to answer that."

     Logan frowned.  "You and Kelli have been married, what, seven, eight years now?"

     "Seven."  Another french fry was put neatly into place.

     "Do you understand her any better now than when you first stated dating her?"

     Davis snorted.  "She's a woman.  There is no understanding them, no matter how long you know them."

     Logan looked at the door that Max had gone through.  "But she knows that it was nothing more than just another rehearsal," he said softly, almost to himself.

     "Yes, but it was in the privacy of your dressing room and you were rehearsing with a very pretty young woman."  Davis finished divvying up the french fries and finally looked at his friend.  "Usually, when rehearsing one on one like that, without the director or some other third party around, the rehearsals don't get as … physical … as they would up on the stage."

     "You're right."  Logan sank down into one of the chairs.  "Not a real smart thing to do, I guess."

     "I'm not disagreeing with you."

     "Thanks," Logan said dryly.

     Davis nodded as Max re-entered the room.  She appeared to have gotten over her anger, but she still seemed a little withdrawn as she deposited the napkins in the center of the table.  She quickly sat down, absently picking up her sandwich and taking a small bite.

     Logan leaned forward and caught her fingers as she reached for a french fry.  She looked up into his eyes, her expression carefully neutral.  "I'd like to go over my lines again when we're done.  There's one part at the start of the second act where I'm still a little shaky.  Would you help me with it when we're finished with lunch?"

     Max recognized the peace offering for what it was; an oblique male attempt of a request of forgiveness.  Truthfully, he hadn't done anything that warrented asking for an apology, but he was still doing his best to make amends.  Silently, she scolded herself for making more out of the situation than was truly required.  It was just another rehearsal, nothing more.  Crystal was the one who was trying to make it more than it seemed to be.  She is the one I should be angry with, not Logan.  Max looked up at him, realizing that she hadn't answered his question.  A smile quirked at her lips as she met his gaze from across the table.  "Yeah, I'll help you, if you want."

     Logan smiled, pleased that his roundabout apology had been accepted.  He was always tantalized when her mercurial attitude slipped from her iron control.  She fought to hide her passion behind a cool façade, but every so often, he was allowed a peek into the fire that burned in her soul.  He nodded his thanks as he released her hand.

     "Do you need to borrow my script?" Davis asked Max.

     She shook her head.  "No, I know the play."

     Davis raised an eyebrow at her and Logan chuckled.  "Photographic memory," Logan explained.  "She was off book before I even got started with the damn thing."

     "Photographic memory.  The ultimate dream of directors everywhere."  Davis shook his head ruefully.  "My problem is that I've worked with too many actors who claim to have a photographic memory, but they're running at the slowest shutter speed possible."

     The tension in the room melted away as both Max and Logan chuckled at the sorrowful tone of Davis' voice.  Companionably, all three turned their attention back to the most pressing matter at hand: lunch.

     "Yeah, this is the right one."  Max studied the written directions she held in her hand as Logan pulled up in front of one of the other cabins.  Two other cars were already parked in the drive, one of which Max recognized as belonging to Alan.  "I think the other car belongs to Leslie, the wardrobe manager," she told Logan.  "I remember hearing someone say that she's taking care of him while he recovering."

     "Well, that makes sense, I guess."  Logan parked the car and looked across at Max.  She was a dim figure in the darkness of the car's interior.  He could feel her gaze as she turned to look back at him.  "He's supposed to be on bed rest through this weekend, so he would need someone to help him with meals and such."  Logan exited the car and walked around the vehicle to open the door for Max.  "Although I'm sure he's probably going stir-crazy by now.  I know I would be."

     She nodded in agreement as she got out of the car.  "Well, hopefully another pair of visitors will cheer him up.  And it's not like we're here empty-handed, either."  The couple had stopped at a bakery on their way over to Alan's cabin.  After much deliberation, they had finally agreed to bring him a fresh peach pie.  Max had never had that particular kind of pie before, but Logan promised that she would enjoy it.  When she had questioned if the pie was going to be as good as a peach pie that he would have made, Logan had grinned and replied that it probably wouldn't even be close.

     Light spilled out the front door as it was opened in response to Logan's knock.  A slim young woman with light brown hair and cheerful eyes stood before them, a questioning look on her face as she eyed her visitors.  Max's assumption had proved to be correct; the driver of the other car was indeed Leslie.

     Logan flashed her a brilliant smile.  "Hey.  We thought we'd stop by and see how Alan was doing."

     Leslie smiled in response.  "He's doing great, but come on in and see for yourself."  She backed away from the door to let them enter.  "Hey, Alan.  Cale and Nicole are here to see ya."

     As Max and Logan walked into the living room, they saw Alan sitting on the loveseat, a wide smile on his face.  He got up carefully and made his way over to greet his guests.  "Hey there, how's it going?  Rehearsals coming along ok?  Leslie told me that you're off book.  That's pretty impressive, considering you had less than a week to learn everything."

     "The only reason I'm off book is because I can't find it anywhere."

     Alan chuckled.  "Ah, then you didn't have much of a choice, did you?"  He laughed as Logan shook his head.  "Well, don't stay standing there, sit down.  Lez and I just finished dinner, so your timing is perfect."

     "More than perfect."  Max held up the pie they had brought with them.  "We have dessert."

     Alan sank back into the couch and sighed.  Max and Leslie had just finished cleaning up from the remains of their little feast, and had rejoined the men in the living room.  Leslie and Alan were stationed on the loveseat, with Logan and Max perpendicular to them on the large couch.  Alan's cabin was much along the same vein as Logan's, albeit smaller.  A roaring fire crackled and popped, filling the room with warmth.  The four of them had conversed on a variety of topics; from the freak snowstorm that had hit Vancouver the week before (and subsequently melted almost immediately) to the lack of continuity and believability in tv shows piped out of Hollywood to the extreme boredom generated by forced convalescence.  The conversation had finally started to filter down, leaving them in a companionable silence.

     "I'm going to come to the theatre tomorrow," Alan suddenly announced.  "I'm interested in seeing at least one of the dress rehearsals."

     Leslie frowned.  "You're supposed to be on bed rest until Sunday."

     "I'll take it easy, I promise.  I just can't stand being cooped up here anymore.  I need to get out."

     "If you get tired, you can always lie down in the dressing room," Logan offered.

     Alan nodded eagerly.  "Yeah.  I'll just use the excuse that I want to help you with your lines or something."

     "Better you than Crystal," Max muttered under her breath.

     Logan looked over at Max and smiled as Alan started laughing.  The younger man looked back at Logan with a grin.  "Is Crystal still trying to foist herself on you?"

     "Oh, you could say that," Max replied, glancing over at Logan.

     "I'll bet she was overjoyed to hear that Rich wanted you to play Michael," Alan said.  "I've known her for too long to get caught up in her mechanisms anymore.  Watch out for her, Cale.  She can be very … determined … when she wants to be."

     Logan shrugged.  "She seems to have backed off lately.  I think I've finally gotten the message across that I'm not interested."

     Max snorted derisively and changed the subject.  "Well, it's late and we should really get going.  See you tomorrow?"

     Alan nodded.  "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

    

~*~*~*~*~*~