Author's Note: As always, Thank You to Heather and Meg for beta'ing this for me.
Thank you, Meg, for asking for all those "sensory details" that force me to become even more verbose, for wanting to see the sightseeing tour and for the "three month" rule.
Thank you, Heather, for keeping me honest about Vancouver geography (well, as honest as you can), your enjoyable commentary on this fic, our wonderful converasations, and for letting me beta your fic "New World, Old Ghosts" (hey, there's a plug for ya!)
You two are the BEST!!
~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter
5 - Dress Rehearsal
Logan stood staring out the living room window, lost in
thought as he sipped his coffee. The
morning had dawned bright and clear; a sure sign that the day was going to be
beautiful. He was wearing a snug pair
of faded jeans, accompanied by a faded "Yale" sweatshirt over a lighter button
down shirt. The day would probably
warrant a coat later, but Logan didn't feel like dragging one to the
theatre. A faint sound made him glance
away from the window and towards the stairs that led to the second floor. He smiled as he saw Max sitting at the top
of the stairs, watching him. She was
wearing a loose flannel shirt over a pale blue skin-tight t-shirt that was
tucked into a faded pair of blue jeans. Her face was framed by several dark curls that had worked their way free
of the ponytail that confined the rest of her hair.
"How long have you been sitting there?" he asked, reluctant to
break the early morning peace.
"Not long. You just
looked like you were lost in thought, so I didn't want to disturb you."
"Not lost in thought really, just …. thinking."
"Isn't that kinda the same thing?"
Logan chuckled. "Yeah,
I guess it is." He took another sip of
the steaming coffee. "I don't think I'm
ready for this, Max."
She didn't need to ask what he meant. She stood up and slowly started down the
stairs towards him. "But you're already
doing it, Logan. Watching you up there
is amazing. I mean, I know it's you up
there, but at the same time, it's Captain Michael MacArren." She smiled at his dubious expression. "Think of it … think of it like when you're
doing a cable hack."
He looked at her questioningly. "A cable hack," he repeated.
She nodded earnestly, stopping on the bottom step so that her
eyes were level with his. "Right. When you do an Eyes Only hack, you become
Eyes Only, right? It's still you, but
when you talk about it to me or Bling, you always talk about Eyes Only in the
third person. As if Eyes Only were a
different person entirely. It's the
same premise here."
"I don't know, Max. Eyes Only is anonymous and safe. Getting up on stage in front of hundreds of people is much more
personal. If I make a mistake or mess
up a line, I can't hit the rewind button and do it all over again.
"But those hundreds of people aren't watching Logan Cale or
Cale Anson. They're watching Michael
MacArren. And if Michael MacArren makes
a mistake or messes up a line, they aren't going to know it. They're going to think that it's all part of
the play."
He chuckled. "Yeah, I
guess."
"Logan, you don't have anything to worry about. You're doing wonderfully. You're going to have the audience bawling in
the aisles when Jessica dies in Michael's arms." She cocked her head to one side and looked at him. "Besides, it's only one night. It'll be over before you know it."
Logan shook his head and sighed. "I hope you're right."
Max smiled. "Of course
I am." She stepped off of the bottom
step and moved towards the window he had been staring out earlier. "We still have a few hours before we have to
be at the theatre…" she let the thought trail off as she looked out onto the
empty street.
Logan watched her watching the world outside their
window. She was silhouetted in the
morning light, outlined by a golden glow that danced across the room with each
movement of her body. He moved up
behind her, aching with the desire to wrap his arms around her small waist and
pull her back into his embrace. He was
inches away from her, the scent of her hair and heat of her body invading his
senses. Refusing to give in to the
primal urge that enveloped him, Logan forced his hands to remain still. He closed his eyes, silently praying for the
strength to get through these next few days spent in such close proximity to
Max. Although he couldn't prove it, he
had no doubt that Davis intentionally set up the housing arrangement just to
torment him. With a soft sigh, Logan
opened his eyes again and looked at the woman in front of him. She was still staring out the window and
with a start, Logan realized that the flannel shirt she was wearing was one of
his. One that had gone missing several
months ago, if he recalled correctly.
"Nice shirt," he said, taking another sip of his coffee.
Max turned around to look at him, eyes wide with feigned
innocence.
He shook his head. "Don't give me that look."
A slow grin started to spread across her face. "It's a very comfortable shirt."
"I know. I wondered
where it had disappeared to."
"It's the three month rule."
"The what?"
"The three month rule," she repeated. "If you haven't noticed it missing in three
months, it's no longer yours."
"Funny. I don't
remember that being one of the rules of acquisition."
"Possession is nine-tenths of the law."
"Why does it not surprise me to hear you say that." He paused and tried to affect a stern
expression. "So tell me, how many other
articles of my clothing have you absconded with?"
"Absconded? Do people
still use words like that?"
"You're avoiding the question."
Max cocked her head to one side and looked at Logan, a grin
playing at her lips. "Have you noticed
anything else missing?"
"Am I going to have to take an inventory when we get home or
should I just search your luggage now?"
Max chuckled. "I think
this is the only shirt of yours that I have."
"That you have, period, or that you have with you?"
"I think I'm going to take the fifth, now."
"Mmm-hmm. That makes
me wonder how many times you've invaded my closet."
"Logan, I'm wounded."
"Sure you are," Logan smiled slightly. Truth was, he wasn't really upset with the
fact that she was wearing his shirt. In
fact, it gave him a warm feeling inside. She raided my closet for a shirt that she's seen me wear before. That's something that a girlfriend would
do. Does Max consider herself-? He broke off the thought with a snort. Yeah, right, Cale. Go pull the other one. He met Max's gaze and chuckled. It was obvious that she had no intent of returning his shirt to him. "Well, at least I know where to find it the
next time I want to wear it," he said.
Max pulled the shirt tight around her body. She didn't remember exactly when she had
taken it, but she remembered why. Logan's scent. He had been
wearing the shirt over a light tank-top, and had discarded it for his workout
session with Bling. He hadn't even
noticed when she almost instinctively slipped it into her backpack. She didn't know what had possessed her to
bring it on this trip. She knew he
would recognize it. Maybe I will
give it back to him, she thought to herself. She closed her eyes and gathered the collar up to her nose,
inhaling deeply. His scent has
almost worn off. I'll let him keep it
for a while, then take it back again. She looked up at Logan, her eyes dancing with humor. "Sure," she said. "Come on over any time you want to wear it. I'll get it when I want it back."
Logan rolled his eyes heavenward, as if to ask for guidance,
and changed the subject. "Well, like
you said before, we still have a few hours before we have to be at the
theatre. I was thinking that after
breakfast, we would go into town and just walk around, maybe do some shopping
and some sightseeing. Sound good?"
'You mean we're actually going to play tourist on this
vacation?" She smiled as Logan
nodded. "Sounds great to me. Let's get started."
*******
Max and Logan arrived at the theatre about mid-morning,
flushed and red-cheeked from their early morning jaunt. They had managed to pack what would normally
have been almost a full day of sightseeing into just over three hours, although
a good portion of the time was spent traveling into the city itself. Their first stop was at Stanley Park. Even though they were in the middle of
March, the park's stately Western Red Cedars were impressive. It was as if they had crossed over into
another realm, as a quiet hush embraced the couple. Silently, almost reverently, Max and Logan had wandered through
the ancient rainforest. As they had
approached the first of the majestic totems, their steps slowed to a snail's
pace. A sense of peace and tranquility
had stolen over them as they gazed at the massive structure, its paint faded
from neglect to a muted gray. The blank eyes of the totems glared at them,
silent watchers of the passing years. It was as if this portion of the world had been left untouched by The
Pulse, although what had once been a well-groomed park was now wildly overgrown
as it slowly reverted to its natural state. Personally, Max decided that she liked the natural setting; it was
almost as if the totems were once again keeping sentinel over their native
villages. They had finished their
stroll through the park in near silence; neither one of them wanting to disturb
the fragile spell instilled in their hearts.
The next stop had been
Granville Island. Eagerly, Max had dove
into the throng of people that packed the open-air market, dragging Logan
behind her. They feasted on egg rolls
and noodles from one streetside vendor and ice cream from another. Logan had been highly amused to realize that
Max wasn't perfect after all as he watched her fight with the chopsticks that
the first vendor had handed her. Apparently, Chinese cuisine wasn't a staple of the Manticore Dining
Menu. They had barely touched the outskirts
of the area before it was time to head back to the theatre. After agreeing that they would need to
return to the area for a real vacation, Max and Logan had headed back to the
theatre.
With the exception of the stage crew, who were busily putting
the final touches on the set, the theatre was fairly empty. There were a total of five different
background settings, one of which took up almost the entire stage. There were two different office settings;
both were small and were illuminated by only a portion of the stage lights. The bunkhouse set was nothing more than three plywood walls and twelve
cots. It actually took up a good
portion of the stage, despite the fact that it was so sparsely decorated. The laboratory set and medical center set were
actually the same set, just reversed. It was the largest of all the sets, as most of the action took place in
one of the two settings. Medical
equipment, that did nothing more than light up and beep quietly, was scattered
throughout the set, giving it the impression that it was a hub of
activity. The final set was the
tannery, where Jessica and Michael hid from her captors. It only took up half the stage, but the
muted lighting gave it a sense of depth and hidden shadows. The stage itself had a large, rotating
section that the actors used to simulate long distances, when in actuality,
they were running or walking in place. It was very impressive and Max had grinned in amazement the first time
she had seen it used.
Max followed Logan through the side door and into the
wings. Jerry and Debbie both looked up
as the pair approached.
"Have you seen Leslie for a final fitting?" Jerry asked.
"I'm supposed to meet with her after lunch," Logan responded.
Jerry nodded. "Good,
good. We're going to do a quick run
through in about ten minutes, so do whatever it is that you need to do to get
ready."
Logan nodded, but Jerry had already turned his attention back
to Debbie. The couple made their way to
Logan's dressing room to deposit their stuff, then headed back out towards the
stage. The auditorium was no longer
empty; there were about thirty actors total in the play and all of them were
now scattered throughout the auditorium. Max and Logan settled themselves in the third row from the stage and
watched as the crew reset for the first scene.
"Looks like they finally found Brad another chair to sit in,"
Logan commented, with a slight grin. Brad was the actor who was playing Logan's commanding officer. Several rehearsals ago, the chair he had
been sitting in collapsed beneath him in the middle of a scene. Once all the laughter had died down, one of
the stagehands had given him a milk crate to sit on for the rest of the
rehearsal. Unfortunately, the milk
crate was so low to the ground, it made Brad look like a child sitting at an
adult's desk. The first time Brad had
sat on the crate, Logan hadn't been able to look at him without laughing, and
ended up saying all his lines to the wall. Brad stood for the remaining rehearsals, although the crayons and
coloring book that some prankster had left on his desk were still there.
As the last stagehand walked off, Jerry walked onto the
stage. "Okay, people. We're going to do one run through, then
break for lunch. Let's get going."
Logan stood up and smiled his thanks as Max handed him his
cane. "See ya later."
*******
Logan sat with Max and Alan in his dressing room, going over
last minute notes and observations Alan had made while watching the morning's
rehearsal. All in all, Alan had been
very impressed with Logan's performance, especially considering how little time
he had been given to learn everything. Logan had mentioned that he was still unsure about the final scene between
Michael and Jessica, so Alan had suggested that he and Max do the scene right
there. He was watching the scene unfold
when a thought suddenly occurred to him. Once the couple had finished, Alan voiced his concern. "Cale, have you ever done a stage kiss?"
Logan turned around and looked at Alan, a confused expression
on his face. "A what?"
"A stage kiss. It's a
closed-mouth kiss that's used in theatre productions like this one. The reason I'm asking is because you're going
to need to know how to do one in this last scene."
Logan shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "I just figured I'd kind of turn my back to
the audience and …" He trailed off as Alan shook his head.
"Uh, well, that won't work. Especially not with Crystal." Alan snuck a look at Max, who arched an
eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. "Crystal is.. well, her nickname is 'The Tongue' if that tells you
anything. I'm willing to bet that she's
counting on you not knowing how to do a stage kiss." Alan grinned at him. "Just be thankful that we're not doing a movie, or some futuristic
sci-fi tv show. Kissing in those
mediums is a little different, because usually the camera is right in your face
and if you do a closed-mouth kiss, it's really obvious."
Logan grimaced and walked over to the table Alan was sitting
at. "Great. Something to look forward to." Why did I ever let Davis talk me into this? I don't know if I can kiss another woman with Max around,
watching me, even if it is just a play. Sighing heavily, he pulled out a chair and sank into it. "So just how does one do a 'stage kiss' and
make it look real in theatre?" he asked.
"Well, you have to remember, that the audience will always be
at least ten feet away. In a theatre
like this one, we have the orchestra pit. We don't have an orchestra, but we have the pit, so they'll be even
farther away. For this scene, Jessica
is facing Michael, like you two just were. Right after he finishes his last line, he pulls her into his arms and
kisses her." Alan carefully and painfully stood up and moved to the area that
Logan had just vacated. "Here, I'll
show you what I mean."
Without another word, Alan knelt down next to where Max was
sitting on the floor and pulled her into his arms. She was so surprised by his sudden action, that she didn't
protest being the guinea pig for his little demonstration. After all, she thought to
herself. I don't think Logan would
appreciate Alan's effort if he were up here instead of me. She turned her attention back to Alan, who
was continuing his explanation.
"You two will be facing each other, like this. When you go to kiss her, just remember to close your mouth at the last moment. The way this scene is staged, you won't have the option to turn away from the audience, because this is the kiss that they've been waiting for all night. You're not taking your time with the kiss, either. Once you've said that last line, there's no hesitation when you lean close to kiss her. Just remember to use your downstage arm for around her waist. That way, you're not blocking the kiss from the audience. It's like this." Alan closed his eyes for a moment, released Max, and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, his right arm snaked around Max's waist as he pulled her close once more. He smiled softly as he looked into her eyes.
"I love you. You are the other half of my soul, now and forever." As Alan finished the line, he bent his head towards Max and pressed his lips to hers.
Even though he knew that the kiss was just a demonstration for
his benefit, Logan felt a surge of jealousy nearly overwhelm him. It's not a real kiss. It's just a stage kiss . She's not really kissing him back. It's just a stage kiss. Logan's thoughts whirled through his head as
he watched Alan and Max. Angry at his
own jealousy, Logan forced himself to watch the technique of the kiss as if he
were watching from the audience's perspective, instead of just reacting to
it. Ok, keep my right arm on her
waist so I don't block the view. Isn't
he done, yet? Why the hell does she
look like she's enjoying it? Right arm
down, head tilted towards the audience. Enough, already!
After what seemed to have been an eternity, Alan broke away
from Max. "See? Nothing to it. The idea is to make it look real. Now, you try." Alan let
go of Max and returned to his chair. "Run the scene from the top of Michael's monologue."
Logan slowly returned to kneel next to
Max. It's just a stage kiss. Don't think about how much you want to hold
her in your arms forever. Just do the
scene, like you've been doing it all along. Pull her close to you, look into her eyes-
"Cale? Oh, there you are," Davis knocked briefly on the door before striding
into the room. He paused for a moment
and studied the scene before him, then grunted softly to himself. Max was sitting on the floor with Logan
kneeling next to her. He had one arm
around her back as she slumped against him. "Huh. Sorry to interrupt your
rehearsal, but I need you over in Leslie's sewing room to try on your costume." He turned and pointed an accusatory finger
at Alan. "You should be in your cabin,
in bed. Doctor's order of bed rest
doesn't do anyone any good if you're here."
"I'm taking it easy, Rich. Cross my heart. I was bored
senseless at the cabin. At least here,
I can give my expert advice to my temporary replacement," Alan gestured at
Logan.
Davis snorted. "Cale
can get into trouble easily enough without you coaching him, Alan," he
replied. "Here's a key to my office. Get your butt down there, lock yourself in,
lie down on to the couch and get yourself some sleep. No one will disturb you there and I'll come get you when we're
ready for the dress rehearsal, okay?"
Alan nodded at Davis and slowly made his way out the
door. Davis turned his attention back
to Logan. "Now, you ready to go turn
yourself into Captain Michael MacArren?"
Logan stood in front of the mirror in the sewing room and
tried not to flinch as the young wardrobe manager, Leslie, added the finishing
touches to his costume. He caught Max's
gaze in the mirror and smiled slightly as she winked at him. The uniform was dark blue in color with gold
piping and, once the alterations had been made, fit Logan perfectly. Alan matched Logan in height, but Logan was
broader in the chest and shoulders. Davis grinned to himself as he remembered Max's look of possessive pride
when Leslie commented on the difference between the two men. Leslie stepped back to cast a critical eye
on her handiwork, then turned a questioning eye to Davis.
Watching Logan preen himself in front of the mirror, Davis
nodded his approval. "Wonderful job,
Lez. If I didn't know better, I would
swear that it had been originally made for him."
Leslie smiled her thanks at the compliment. "I'm just glad that Cale and Alan are close
enough in stature that I didn't have to create an entire new outfit," she
replied. She looked up at Logan and
grinned at him. "I would have been in
trouble if you were anymore bulked up." Logan grinned back at her and flexed one arm in an old style he-man
pose. The sound of ripping cloth echoed
through the room, followed quickly by Leslie's shriek of dismay. She leapt forward to examine the damage,
ignoring Logan's stammered apologies and Max's snort of laughter. "No, no, it's all right. Better now than onstage tomorrow
evening. I'll just let out the seam to
give you some more room." Within seconds,
Leslie had the shirt off Logan and was pinning it back together. She waved away his further attempts to
apologize as she shooed the trio out the door. The soft whhrrr of the machine followed them down the hall as
they retreated to Logan's dressing room.
"Nice little demo there, Cale," Davis commented dryly as they
entered the room.
Logan blushed slightly. Way to go, Cale. You
let Leslie's comments go to your head, try to impress Max , and end up having
her laugh at you. Yep, real smart thing
to do. Davis cleared his throat,
interrupting Logan's train of thought.
"There was only one thing I saw wrong when you put on the
uniform, though." Davis looked at Logan, stroking his bearded chin
thoughtfully. He looked over at Max and
arched an eyebrow at her. Immediately,
she caught his meaning and smothered a grin.
"What's that?" Logan asked, looking back and forth between the
two of them.
"The hair is ok, but military officers don't usually sport a
five o'clock shadow." Logan's hand went
to his chin as Davis' words sank in. "You're gonna have to loose the scruff, Cale. You do own a razor, don't you?" Davis asked.
"Something I've always wondered," Max muttered to herself.
"You've never complained about my beard before." Logan looked
over at her, completely forgetting about Davis' presence.
"We've never been in a situation where it mattered," Max shot
back with a smile, not one to leave a challenge unmet.
Logan slowly walked over to her and bent in close to her face.
"And in what kind of situation would
it matter?" Logan grinned wickedly at her. What the hell are you doing? An internal voice screamed in
alarm. He ignored it. Seeing Alan kiss Max earlier made him
recklessly want to establish his claim on the young woman, regardless of the
consequences. He leaned in closer so
that his whiskers brushed along her smooth cheek. "Or should I be down lower?" he murmured in her ear, throwing all
thoughts of caution to the wind.
"Lo- Cale!" Max gasped, half-shocked, half-aroused at his
insinuation. Did he mean what I
think he meant? Oh, God, don't go
there, Max. She blinked rapidly as
image after image assaulted her overactive imagination. She could feel the blood rush into her
cheeks as she blushed, knowing that Logan knew exactly where her thoughts had
taken her. Logan's eyes twinkled in
devilish delight as he watched the play of emotions cross her face.
What has gotten into him? Max wondered. He's
never like this, especially in front of other people. Is this because Alan kissed me? If so, I should've found some guy to kiss me
in front of him ages ago. She placed her hands against his bare chest and
took a deep, shuddering breath as she banished the mental images created by
Logan's suggestive whisper. Once she
had calmed her mind (and her libido), she looked up into Logan's face. He opened his mouth to say something, but
was cut off as Davis cleared his throat, breaking the spell.
"Much as I hate to break up the foreplay, I am forced to
remind the both of you that rehearsal is going to start in about forty-five
minutes. Leslie should be finished with
your shirt by then, but you still have to shave, Cale."
Logan, suddenly remembering his friend's presence, nodded in
agreement and reluctantly backed away from Max. "I guess I'll do it now."
Davis grinned at his friend. "It's not the end of the world. It'll grow back before you know it."
"Yeah, yeah."
Davis chuckled and opened the dressing room door. "Much as I'd love to stay and see the
de-bearding, I have a million things to do. I'll see you two later." Without
waiting for a goodbye, Davis left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Logan sighed resignedly and disappeared
into the small bathroom that was attached to the dressing room. Quietly, Max followed him to the open door. The bathroom was actually a little larger
than the one she and Cindy shared back at home, but was still smaller than the
guest bath in Logan's penthouse. The
first thing that was to be seen through the open door was the commode. Next to the commode was a shower stall; it's
door set at an oblique angle that was actually parallel to the opposite corner
of the room. Immediately inside the
door, a short counter ran along one wall, ending in a sink that butted up next
to the shower. Max leaned against the
doorframe as she watched Logan take off his glasses and start to lather
up. Absently, she wished that it was
her hands spreading the smooth shaving cream along his cheeks. She was mesmerized at the play of muscles in
his chest and back as he carefully slicked the razor along his skin, pausing
only to rinse the blade. Her eyes
followed his every movement, thoroughly enjoying the chance to openly gaze at
him.
Finally, Logan wet a small hand towel and wiped the remaining
lather from his face. He turned to her
with a questioning look. "Did I miss anywhere?"
Max moved closer to him and examined his cheeks and neck
carefully. "Yeah, right here." She placed a finger along one side of his neck.
"Want me to get it for you?"
Mutely, Logan handed her the razor and shaving cream and
watched her as she sprayed a small amount onto her fingers and reached up to
gently smooth the lather on his neck. She started to lean towards him with the razor, then backed away, a
slight frown marring her features. The
bathroom didn't offer a lot of space for freedom of movement, and from where
she was standing, Max wasn't able to reach the area that Logan missed. Without a word, she hoisted herself onto the
bathroom counter, grabbed his belt, and pulled him towards her so that he ended
up neatly sandwiched between her knees. Satisfied with her new eye-to-eye vantage point, Max reached out and
lightly ran the razor along his neck. Two swift strokes later, she rinsed the blade and set it down on the
sink. She picked up the towel he had
used earlier, wiped the residual lather off his neck, and then ran her fingers
over the area she had just tackled.
"That side is clean now, but it looks like you nicked yourself
on the other side."
Logan looked over Max's shoulder into the mirror and grimaced. He took the towel from her and dabbed at the
small cut. "Yeah, I got myself, all right."
"Do you have anything to put on it?"
"It's already stopped bleeding," he replied. "But if you want
to kiss it and make it better…." He let the thought trail off and looked at her
wickedly. Inwardly, he groaned. Oh God, did I just say that?
Max returned the look, her face serious. "Logan, a kiss has no
medicinal value whatsoever."
He flashed her a challenging grin. "No, but the psychological
value is incredible."
Max stared at Logan, slightly surprised at the transparentness
of his statement. He was teasing her;
goading her to accept his challenge. Well,
two can play at this game. Her lips
quirked in a slight smile as she slowly reached up to lay one hand flat against
Logan's cheek. She let her fingers
trace the line of his jaw until she was able to cup his chin in her hand. She tilted his head slightly away from her,
giving her better access to his neck. Her hand slid down to his shoulder to steady herself as she leaned in
towards him.
He could feel her breath on his neck as
she moved closer and closer to him, and the sensation was making his blood
slowly start to boil. With a soft sigh,
Logan closed his eyes in anticipation of her lips touching his skin in a light
kiss. His eyes flew back open in shock
as he felt her trace a wet, hot line up his neck with her tongue. His breath caught in his throat as her
tongue alternated between quick, darting flicks and long, lazy swirls. Convulsively, his hands closed on her
thighs, then slowly slid to her back as he pulled her in closer towards
him. A groan escaped him as Max gently
bit his neck.
Max could feel his chest heaving, his breath coming in ragged
gasps, as she continued to nibble, lick and suck at his neck. Somewhere along the way, she had lost sight
of her intent to do nothing more than answer his challenge. All that mattered now was the man in her
arms and the taste of his skin in her mouth. Her breasts were crushed up against his bare chest; her arms and legs
were locked around him as she buried her face in his neck. She could feel his growing erection pressed
hard against her and the knowledge that she was its cause was intoxicating. She nibbled his neck one last time, then
gently placed a kiss over the area she had been tormenting. Turning his head slightly, Logan's mouth
started its descent towards hers.
"Heeellllloooo? Cale,
honey, are you here?" Crystal's voice cut through their passion like a bucket
of ice water.
Max's head snapped around with a gasp, leaving Logan kissing a
mouthful of her hair. He pulled back
from her slightly, but didn't let her go as he reached out, slammed and locked
the bathroom door. Max suppressed a
delighted smile as she caught his muttered curses at Crystal and her "goddamn
shitty timing". Slowly, she tried to
disengage herself from around Logan's body, but the small size of the bathroom,
as well as the fact that Logan didn't seem to have any intention of letting her
go, prevented her from moving very far away. He smiled at her, his eyes still dark with desire, and started to say
something when Crystal knocked at the bathroom door.
"Cale? Are you in
there? Leslie gave me your shirt to
bring back to you. She also said that
she's almost finished with the pants and that you'll be able to pick them up in
about five minutes." Crystal's voice
dropped down to a sultry whisper as she leaned against the closed door. "I told her she could have the pants, but I
wanted what was in them," she purred.
Max arched an eyebrow at Crystal's unsubtle remark. Logan rolled his eyes and made an
exasperated sound in the back of his throat. "Hang on, Crystal. I'll be out
in a bit," he said.
"Cale, are you all right? You sound like you're out of breath."
Max placed one hand against Logan's bare chest, interested to
see if his heart rate was still accelerated due to her earlier
ministrations. She ran one finger down
the center of his chest to his flat stomach and then back up to his chest,
listening to his heart start to speed up once more. Looking up, she was immediately lost in his eyes. Their normal color had deepened to a
midnight blue that defied all rational thought. Max was unable to tear her gaze away as Logan slowly brought her
hand to his mouth, his fingers intertwined with hers. A small gasp escaped her lips as he touched the tip of his tongue
to the palm of her hand, then proceeded to move to her wrist and up her arm
with a series of small, hot kisses.
"Cale! Answer me. Open this door. Are you
hurt? I hear groaning." Crystal rattled the doorknob in frustration.
Logan smiled to himself, pleased to elicit such a reaction out
of Max. A quick glance at her face
showed him that she had covered her mouth with her free hand, in an attempt to
stem the whimpers of pleasure that Crystal had overheard. He turned his attention back to the inside
of her elbow, biting gently on her soft skin.
Outside of the bathroom, Crystal had her ear pressed against
the door, straining to hear what was going on in the small room. She jumped around guiltily when Davis
cleared his throat from behind her.
"Oh, Rich. I'm glad
you're here. I think Cale's hurt, and
the bathroom door is locked."
"Hurt?" Davis asked, a
note of concern obvious in his voice.
"Yes, I heard moaning and he won't answer me," Crystal
responded.
Davis looked at the closed bathroom door and fought the desire
to smile. "Ahh, well. I think he's fine, Crystal. Really. There's nothing to worry about."
"But he sounded like he was gasping for air, and then I heard
groaning."
A quick burst of laughter forced its way out of his throat
before he was able to compose himself. "Trust me on this one, Crystal," Davis said.
"But-"
The sound of the bathroom door opening cut her protest
short. A bare-chested Logan stood in
the doorway, face slightly flushed, as he regarded the pair standing in front of
him.
"Cale, are you-" before Crystal could finish her question,
Logan turned slightly and ushered Max out of the bathroom. Crystal's mouth snapped shut as she glared
at Max, turned on her heel, and marched out of the dressing room.
Davis regarded his friend silently, his eyes shining with
suppressed mirth. Logan met his gaze
steadily, a slightly satisfied smile on his lips. "Beard's gone," he announced.
Davis nodded. "So I'd
noticed. Funny thing, though. I don't remember hickies being one of the
dangers of shaving," he said with a wide grin. "See you on stage in ten minutes."
As Davis walked out of the dressing room, Logan looked over at
Max, one hand lightly touching the area just above his collarbone where Max had
kissed his neck. Her eyes widened as he
turned towards her, telling him that Davis' observation was accurate. She bit her lip as her eyes met his.
"Oops."
Thankfully, Max's little addition to Logan's costume was low
enough on his neck that the collar of Logan's uniform covered the purpling
bruise. Leslie had smirked when she had
handed him his newly sewn shirt, but she hadn't said a word. As Logan and Max walked into the auditorium,
Davis grinned at the couple, absently rubbed his neck, then returned his
attention to his conversation with Jerry.
Max chuckled. "He's not
going to let you live this one down, is he?" she asked.
"Probably not," Logan sighed. "I've no doubt that this will show up in his repertoire of 'Cale'
stories in the near future."
"Exactly how many 'Cale' stories does he have?"
"Too many. But most of
them are about my brother, Gideon, so they probably wouldn't interest you any."
"Uh huh," Max responded. "And should I confirm this with Davis?
Logan grinned at Max. "No," he replied. Max smiled back at him, then turned her attention to the busy auditorium. It was a scene of barely controlled chaos. The lights on the stage were flicking on and off, microphones were being tested over the sound system, and final additions were being made to the set. In the middle of it all, Davis was having an animated conversation with Jerry, both of them oblivious to the pandemonium going on around them.
Finally, Davis nodded at Jerry and made his way to the front
of the auditorium and on to the stage. The noise quickly subsided as Davis looked out over the assembled
group. "Ok, people. This is it. We're going to do a straight run through of the show and see if we can't
beat this morning's time by another fifteen minutes. Since tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day, we're not going to have any
rehearsals at all, so this is it. We
have a good show here, folks. Let's do
it like we're going to do it tomorrow night." Davis looked around at the sea of
faces and smiled. "Good. Two minutes 'till curtain."
"Well, I guess I'd better get up there," Logan said. He stared at the stage in front of him and
didn't move.
Max looked over at him. "Logan?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," he replied, without moving an inch
from his seat.
"You aren't moving."
"I know."
"Is something wrong?"
"I really don't want to do this," Logan replied.
"You're going to do fine. You've done this a hundred times already. This time isn't any different."
Logan sighed deeply. "You're right. I'm going." He reached out and gave her hand a quick
squeeze as he stood up. Slowly, as if
he were walking to his own execution, Logan made his way backstage. Max smiled to herself as she watched him go. As the house lights flickered, a bag of
popcorn was dropped unceremoniously into her lap. She looked up into the smiling face of Alan as he handed her a
drink and settled himself down in the seat next to her.
"Concession isn't open, but I swiped a bag from Rich's
office," he said.
Max smiled back at him conspiratorially. "I won't tell a soul," she said. As she spoke, the house lights flickered
again, then slowly lowered until the entire auditorium was dark. Silently, the curtains opened and the stage
was bathed in light. Max smiled as
Logan walked crisply on to the stage, his cane tapping lightly on the hardwood
floor, and settled back to watch the play unfold.
*******
As the lights came back up in the theatre, Max leaned back in her seat. The play had run through without a hitch, although Alan had chortled to himself at the look of disgust on Crystal's face when she realized that she wasn't going to be able to dominate the kiss. Max had just smiled smugly to herself. Crystal was a good enough actress that her disappointment wasn't obvious unless you were looking for it, and Max was definitely looking for it. After the cast had finished with their curtain calls, Jerry and Davis walked to the front of the auditorium and on to the stage. Davis leaned back against the wall of the tannery set as Jerry faced the group of people settled in front of him.
"Well done, everyone. We have a tight show, and I'd like to thank everyone for all their effort." He consulted his clipboard, then looked back up. "I'd like to see the three search party guys after we're done here. Other than that, I don't have any more notes." He turned to look at Davis. "Do you have anything to add?"
Davis nodded and moved forward. "Tomorrow is a sold-out show." He grinned as he saw Logan bury his head in his hands with a groan. "I have VIP seating tickets, four each, for any friends and family you want to invite. If you need more than four, let me know. Cast call is at six tomorrow, and the show starts at eight. The press has been invited to the show and will be at the opening night party afterwards, as will the usual Hollywood jackals." He smiled as a few chuckles dotted the crowd. "You'll all have time to change before the party; the dress code will be semi-formal. Any questions?" He looked around, but not one hand was raised. "Great. Have a wonderful St. Pat's Day tomorrow, and we'll see you tomorrow evening."
~*~*~*~*~*~
