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

Author's Note: I'm sorry this took so long to get posted. On top of ff.net being down for weeks, it was a multitude of crap going on in the real world that had to be dealt with, and as a result, the fic suffered. C'est la vie, I guess. As always, thanks to my betas. Without you two, this fic wouldn't be nearly as much fun.

Meg : Thanks for taking the time to give me your quick comments and first impressions, especially since you have other stuff overwhelming you right now. Keep your chin up and try not to let everything get to you.

Heather: I can't say how much I enjoy getting an edited chapter back from you. If I could get away with leaving your comments in, this fic would be really strange, but hilarious. Thanks for our wonderful (long!) conversations and your fresh perspective on just about everything (with or without the soapbox).

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Chapter 6 – St. Pat's

Logan sighed deeply and smiled to himself as a pair of hands kneaded the sore muscles in his shoulders. "Mmmmm, that feels wonderful."

The fire in front of him merrily crackled and popped as he sank further into her embrace. He could feel her snuggle up next to him on the loveseat they shared. Absently, he slid one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"You were wonderful up there on stage," she said, one finger idly stroking along his jaw.

He caught her hand and kissed the palm, pleased at her sharp intake of breath. A groan escaped his lips as she leaned in and kissed him just under his ear, and began to slowly work her way towards his mouth.

"You should've been an actor instead of an author, Cale," she whispered.

Logan smiled as she kissed the corner of his mouth, then froze as her words sank in. Cale? Why'd Max call me 'Cale'? I'm not an author. I'm a journalist.

With a gasp, Logan sat up in his bed, one hand fumbling for the small light that sat on the nightstand. As the dim glow slowly pushed back the darkness, he looked at the woman reclined against him. It wasn't Max, it was Crystal. Quickly, he released her and pushed himself away. A glance at the clock told him that it was a little after six in the morning. It was a dream. It was all a dream.

"Where's Ma- Nicole?" Logan asked. "What are you doing here, in my bedroom?"

Crystal slowly pushed herself up from her sprawled position on his bed. "Your little assistant has been leaving your cabin every morning at about five a.m., only to return a couple of hours later. It's my guess that she's hooked up with Alan and has been …visiting him… all this week. As for what I'm doing here, I think you can figure that part out." She smiled seductively at him and slowly lay back on the bed, her gaze boring into his

Logan's mind raced at the implication of Crystal's words. Just the fact that Max hadn't stormed into his room and bodily thrown Crystal out gave proof to the other woman's claim that Max was not in the cabin at all. As to where she actually was, Logan hadn't the faintest idea. Max wouldn't do that, would she? I mean, I know I don't have any claims on her, but she wouldn't see someone behind my back. She knows I'm interested in her, right? She gave me a hickey yesterday, for godssake. That has to mean that there's something between us. Sure, neither one of us has actually come out and said anything, but we've been in enough situations where we've come close enough that-

"Cale, don't worry about her," Crystal's voice cut through his mental rambling. "If she were interested in you, she wouldn't be disappearing every morning without telling you, would she?" Crystal smiled to herself as Logan closed his eyes and sighed deeply. She could see that she had scored a direct hit; now all she had to do was give him one more shove. "Alan's been interested in her since the day she arrived, and she hasn't exactly been pushing him away, has she?"

Logan didn't look at her. His mind was a cloud of whirling thoughts and suspicions. "I think you should leave now," he said quietly, his words measured.

Crystal studied him for a moment. "All right, I'll leave. But keep in mind what I said, Cale. I'm sure you'll see the truth of my words soon enough." She paused. "And you know where to find me." Crystal slowly pushed herself into a sitting position and stood up. She reached out and caressed Logan's cheek. "I'll see you later."

Logan rubbed his eyes as Crystal left his room. He sighed deeply to himself as he heard the front door open and close again, signaling her exit. The clock showed him that it was six-fifteen; forty-five minutes before he usually got up. With another sigh, he shut off the alarm and donned his sweatpants and a robe. Might as well get the coffee started, he thought to himself as he made his way to the kitchen. He didn't want to think about Crystal's words. He was sure that there was a perfectly good reason why Max was out. He knew she only slept a few hours each night, so it made sense that she would be up and about this early in the morning. Once the coffee had been started, Logan turned to head back towards his room. As he passed through the living room, he looked out the front window. The sight stopped him dead in his tracks. Highlighted by a street lamp, Max stood in the road, talking to someone. Logan inched closer to the window and peered out into the darkness, trying to identify the other figure.

Alan. She was standing there talking to Alan. 'It's my guess that she's hooked up with Alan and has been …visiting him… all this week' Crystal's words came back to him in a rush. Dazed, Logan sank down into the loveseat, his thoughts spiraling down an ever-darkening tunnel as anger at Max's apparent betrayal started to fester.

Max opened the door to the cabin quietly, unaware of Logan's presence in the living room. An unfamiliar smell teased her senses, but was quickly overpowered by the scent of fresh-brewed coffee. She absently dismissed the first odor when she noticed Logan sitting motionless on the loveseat. She smiled at him, even though she knew he couldn't see her expression in the darkness. "Hey, I wasn't expecting you to be up for a while."

"Couldn't sleep," was his terse reply.

Max frowned slightly, immediately aware of the flat tone of his voice, but unsure as to its cause. "Been up long?"

"Since about six."

"Wish I would've known. You could have come on my morning jog with me."

"Is that where you were?" he asked, finally glancing in her direction, his gaze impassive.

Max slowly made her way to the loveseat and perched on the edge, facing him. She could feel his anger, but couldn't, for the life of her, figure out where it was coming from. What did it have to do with her early morning forays? "Yeah, that's where I was. That and the gym," she replied.

"Really," he said sarcastically. He was openly glaring at her now.

"Yes, really," she repeated. "What's the matter with you, Logan?"

"I'm just trying to figure out why you're out jogging in the middle of the night."

"I wasn't. I was jogging in the very early morning."

"Right. For over an hour and a half? What else have you been doing besides jogging, Max?" The words were dripping with suspicion as he eyed her accusingly.

Max could feel her own anger rising to the surface. "I already told you," she replied icily. "I was working out at the gym."

"Oh, is that what it's called?" he asked.

"What the hell are you hinting at, Logan? Is there something else you think I was doing?" Her voice had dropped to a dangerous pitch as she glared crossly at him.

He matched her angry stare with his own. "Why don't you tell me. You're the one who's been sneaking around."

"I have not been 'sneaking around', as you call it. And besides, who the hell do you think you are to demand an accounting of my actives?"

"Something I've been questioning for the last half hour while you were out doing whatever the hell it is that you've been doing every morning," Logan replied. His voice was filled with a rage that easily matched the coldness of his eyes.

"Last time I checked, I wasn't required to ask your permission to do anything. I didn't even do that for Zack, and he was my c.o."

"Well, maybe that's one of the reasons he considers you to be unreliable."

Max slowly got to her feet. She was nearly shaking with a cold fury as she glared at the man sitting in front of her. It took everything in her genetically-enhanced power to keep from sending him flying across the room. "Go to hell, Logan," she spat. Turning on her heel, she stormed up the stairs and down the hall to her room.

"We're supposed to meet Davis at eight-thirty for breakfast," he called after her, knowing that she would hear him. His only response was the slamming of her bedroom door. Scowling to himself, Logan returned to his room to get ready for the day.

*******

"Well, apparently no one had bothered to tell this poor guy how to do a stage kiss, so when he goes to kiss his leading lady, it's obvious to everyone backstage that he's giving her a tonsillectomy," Davis paused to take a sip of coffee. He studied the couple sitting with him at the small round table. He hadn't missed the fact that they had barely spoken two words to each other throughout the entire breakfast, nor the way that they intentionally avoided even looking at each other. Max, at least, was attempting to be social to Davis, but she was coldly ignoring Logan with a practiced ease.

Damn, I can't even tease them about Logan's hickey, he thought. You'd think that after yesterday, they'd be finally over this 'just friends' bullshit, but now it looks like we're back at square one.

He frowned at Logan, who was methodically pulverizing his barely touched breakfast with a fork, then turned his attention to Max. She, at least, hadn't let her semi-bad mood stand in the way of her meal. As he watched her, she mopped up the last of her egg yolk with a corner of her toast and popped it into her mouth. She glanced up at him, waiting for him to finish the rest of his story. Davis sighed to himself quietly and picked up the tale from where he had left off.

"Now Amanda has been doing theatre ever since she was a child," he continued. "And she has an incredible sense of humor. So instead of getting angry and biting his tongue or something, she starts to blow air into his mouth as he's kissing her."

"From where I was standing in the wings, I could see his cheeks puffing in and out like a blowfish. He started laughing to the point where his shoulders were shaking and, without missing a beat, Amanda released him and immediately launched into her next line. He wasn't able to look directly at her until after the intermission."

Max chuckled appreciatively as Davis finished his story, but it was without her usual vitality. She took a long swig of her milk and leaned slightly forward on the table. Her attention was focused on Davis, effectively cutting Logan out of the conversation.

"So, are you free today, or are you going to be stuck in the theatre?" she asked.

Davis glanced over at Logan, wondering what had caused such a schism between the couple, then turned his attention back to Max. "I'm actually free. I'd noticed that there was going to be a parade through town today, so I was wondering if you two would be interested in going."

Max was nodding her head as Davis spoke. "I saw the posters. I was going to ask you the same thing. The parade starts at one, so maybe we could meet for lunch somewhere in town first, then find one of those Celtic bars I keep hearing about, and go there after the parade." She glanced briefly at Logan, but her eyes lacked their usual warmth as she regarded him.

Knowing that an answer was expected of him as well, Logan looked up from his mangled breakfast. "Actually, I have some work to do, so don't bother to include me in your plans today." He didn't look at Max as he spoke, but he could feel her tense up as her anger returned.

Max's eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "We wouldn't dream of it." The words dropped coldly from her lips. She turned to Davis. "Thank you very much for breakfast, Davis. I'll be at your cabin at about a quarter 'till twelve and we can ride into town together. Gotta blaze." She spared a single, withering glance at Logan, then turned on her heel and walked out of the small café. Logan smiled grimly to himself as he heard her leave.

"All right, what the hell's going on between you two? Davis asked exasperatedly

"What are you, my mother?"

"No, I'm one of your oldest friends. One that doesn't want to see you throw away a good thing."

Logan snorted. "Yeah, right. A good thing. It's such a good thing, that she's been going out every morning, to who knows where, then coming back right before I wake up."

"Did you ask her why she'd been going out each morning?"

"She said that she's been going jogging and to the gym, but I saw her standing on the street talking to Alan this morning."

"So you automatically assumed the worst." Davis shook his head in amazement. "Cale, it is entirely possible that she just ran into him."

"Uh-huh. You don't just happen to 'run into' someone at six-thirty in the morning. Crystal told me that she's been 'visiting' Alan all week."

Davis sat back in his chair and looked at his friend, as the picture immediately became clear. "You know, for a really intelligent man, sometimes you can be a complete idiot. Let me tell you about Alan and Crystal. Alan is one of the best, most reliable, actors it's ever been my pleasure to work with. He's a very good-looking young man and he knows it. He's a flirt. But he isn't stupid or blind. Even though you and Max have been playing your little 'secret identity, we're just friends' game, he was the first one to ask me why you two are pretending that you're not involved with each other. Alan will probably continue to flirt with Max until you both leave, but I can guarantee that he would never take it beyond that."

"Crystal, on the other hand, started making a play for you the minute you arrived. She is a talented actress. Unfortunately, one of her biggest talents is her ability to sleep her way into roles. Amazingly enough, she didn't sleep her way into this one, but that's not the point I'm trying to make. Crystal is also aware of the attraction between you and Max, but she isn't going to let it stand in her way of getting into your bed."

"Now, given that you've known Max for a bit longer than Crystal, which would you be more inclined to trust?"

"Max," Logan answered, without hesitation. "But that doesn't change the fact that I saw her on the street talking to Alan this morning."

"No, it doesn't. So why don't you ask her about it instead of acting like such an ass? You're a journalist, Cale. You need to verify your facts before making any conclusions." Davis stood up and dropped enough money on the table to cover their breakfast and a generous tip for the waitress. "One more thing to think about, Logan. Alan wasn't released from the hospital until Wednesday afternoon. Kinda pokes a few holes in Crystal's story about Max visiting him every morning, doesn't it?" Davis nodded to his friend and walked out of the café, leaving Logan with an entirely new set of thoughts to consider.

*******

The crowd roared its appreciation as yet another bagpipe band strutted their way down the thoroughfare. Max cheered along with the rest of the parade-goers, nearly upsetting the green beer that Davis was trying to press into her hands. Since it was St. Patrick's Day, Max had dressed accordingly. She was wearing a soft emerald-green sweater that gave her dusky skin a warm glow. Black boots with gold tips peeked out from under the cuffs of a pair of black jeans. A black belt, also tipped with gold and obviously a match to the boots, encircled her small waist. As she absently took the beer from Davis, she motioned towards the band with her free hand. "What are they doing with their sticks?" Max shouted the question in Davis' ear, hoping that he could hear her above the noise of the crowd.

"They're tenor drummers," he shouted back. "They are the flashy part of the band. The sticks are called 'mallets' and are on a string that the drummer holds on to. They twirl the mallets as they play and their rhythm compliments what the snare and bass drummers are playing." Davis motioned towards the other drummers as he spoke. "Since we're next to the reviewing stand, they'll probably stop and play for a bit, so we might get to see more."

Max grinned in delight as she watched the front line of the band do a u-turn and march back between the ranks that followed them. As each line turned, they started to form a large circle, leaving the bass drummer and the two tenor drummers in the middle. The group finished their tune to loud applause and cheering. The head bagpipe guy, the "Pipe Major" Davis had called him, shouted out instructions to his band and, after a loud beat from the bass, led them into another fast-paced tune. Max was enthralled at the speed that the pipers' fingers flew over the wooden chanter and equally amazed at the precision of the snare drummers. The two girls playing tenor were facing each other, their actions perfectly mirrored as they whipped their mallets through the air in perfect counterpoint to the bass. The cheering redoubled in intensity as the tune suddenly became "Scotland the Brave", the band formed up ranks again, and then began to march away.

Max finally noticed that she was holding a beer and took a drink. "I've never seen a bagpipe band before," she informed Davis as they strolled to a relatively quieter area, leaving the boisterous crowd and parade behind them.

"Never?" Davis was incredulous. "What, do you lock yourself away every St. Pats or something?"

Max laughed. "No, I just… I don't know. I just have never had the opportunity, I guess."

Davis grinned at her. "If you ever have the chance to meet Cale's brother, make sure to have him play his pipes for you."

A brief frown flickered across her face at the mention of Logan's name, almost too quickly to notice. "Uh… Gideon?" Max asked.

Davis nodded. "Yeah. He and Cale were part of a two man band for a long time." He snorted in remembrance. "It was the only way a stranger could tell them apart, actually. Gideon played the pipes and Logan played snare."

Max's jaw dropped in surprise, all anger momentarily forgotten. "Logan plays the snare drum?"

"Actually, I think he can play just about any percussion instrument there is. He also plays the guitar, writes music, and sings. He's a man of many hidden talents, our Cale is."

Max looked down into her green beer. "I guess I wouldn't know," she said so softly that Davis barely heard her. Her eyes flashed angrily as she looked back up at him. "The only talent I've seen lately is his ability to make groundless assumptions and accusations." Her voice caught in her throat as she chuckled humorlessly. "With the exception of the dress, I thought he knew that I've curbed my nocturnal activities."

Davis raised a single eyebrow at her. "Nocturnal activities? Is this something I should be hearing?"

A slight smile crossed her face. "It, uh, has to do with the way Logan and I met," she started.

"I really don't think I want to hear this."

Max's eyes widened as she realized what Davis was thinking. "No! No, nothing like that!" Max blushed. "I was … I was attempting to relieve him of a piece of art that he owned."

"He said that he had a statue that you-" Davis broke off his sentence as a delighted smile split his features. "You were trying to rob him, weren't you?"

"I was trying to procure an item that he had no use for." Max corrected him. "And I had a use for the money it would bring me."

"But you left without it."

Max nodded. "Yeah, Logan caught me, but I escaped. He managed to track me down. Made me dinner and a business offer. We've been working together ever since." She swirled her beer around in her cup, absently watching the foam rings that were formed slide back into the liquid. "Once we started working together, though, I started to curtail my independent jaunts. I was usually too busy doing something for him to have the time to do a professional job." Or what I was doing for him was the professional job, she silently added. "He knows that the last article I acquired was the dress I wore to his cousin's wedding…" Max trailed off as she continued to gaze into her drink.

Davis sighed. He knew he shouldn't get in the middle of their disagreement, but even though he had known her less than a week, he considered Max to be a friend. And God knew there were enough times that Kelli had gone to Logan in the hope that Logan would knock some sense into him. He owed Max his help, even though she didn't know it. He briefly considered the best place to start. Nothing like beginning at the beginning, he reasoned. "From what I was able to get out of him earlier, he's upset about your morning excursions."

Max nodded. "That much I knew. But when he asked, I told him what I've been doing. I leave the cabin at about five a.m., jog to the gym that's just down the road, work out there for about an hour or so, then jog back to the cabin in time for him to wake up." She snorted. "I told him that," she repeated. "Not," she continued, "that it's any of his business in the first place."

Davis sighed. "Part of being in a relationship means sharing your private time with each other, even if it is nothing more than telling him what you've been doing."

Max shook her head. "But we're not in a relationship."

Davis crossed his arms and gave her a look. "Uh-huh."

"He's just never gone so control-freakish on me before," she continued, ignoring Davis' response.

"But I'm guessing that you've never been together twenty-four hours a day for nearly a week, either."

"True." Max frowned. "But he accused me of lying about what I'd been doing. Not outright, but he's nothing if not a master of implying more than he's actually saying."

"He saw you outside with Alan." Davis offered her another piece of the puzzle.

Max shrugged. "I ran into him as I was heading back-" She broke off suddenly as she looked at Davis, realization dawning in her eyes. "Logan and I weren't talking about the same kind of nocturnal activities, were we?" Her eyes narrowed as Davis nodded. "He saw Alan and I together, so he immediately assumed …." Max trailed off. "Of all the insufferable, arrogant, stupid… He's a dead man. I'm gonna kill him."

"What was Alan doing in front of your cabin at six-thirty in the morning?" Davis asked.

Still intent on planning Logan's demise, Max answered him absently. "He was on the way back to his cabin. Apparently, his ribs don't hurt so much that he wasn't able to warm Leslie's bed last night."

Davis chuckled softly at the unexpected news. "I had wondered why Leslie volunteered to take care of him when he was released from the hospital," he muttered to himself.

Max shook her head and looked up at the man who was so like Logan, yet so different. "I still don't understand, though. I thought he knew me well enough to know that I wouldn't cheat- That I wouldn't lie to him."

Davis smiled slightly as he heard Max correct herself; switching quickly to slightly safer semantics. For an instant, he debated as to what to say next, then decided to answer the statement she hadn't made. "Well, sometimes when a man's in love, he does really stupid things."

Max started at his words. She stared down into her beer and laughed nervously. "Yeah, right."

"I may joke about a lot of things, but I'm perfectly serious about this. You two can dance around the truth all you want, but that won't make it go away."

Max crossed her arms and stared out at the parade that was still going by as she considered his words. "He owes me one helluva good apology," she stated absently. She turned her attention back to Davis and took a swig of her beer. "Well, I'm not going to let him ruin my day. If he wants to sit in the cabin and sulk about things that are only true in his head, that's his problem. He'll just have to find me to apologize."

"Thata girl!" Davis grinned at her. She reminded him so much of his own wife, Kelli; full of spit and fire and stubborn as all get out. It was like reliving his own courtship, although much more amusing. She was a good match for Cale. Now that he knew the whole story, Davis had faith that he could pound the truth into Logan's stubborn head. Hopefully, he would get to Logan before Max did, because he had a sneaking suspicion that she would do the same truth-pounding … only literally.

*******

The play was going well, despite the fact that Logan had stumbled slightly over his first line. Max had been correct, though; no one in the audience had noticed the error. The knowledge was encouraging, and Logan found that the play began to flow even easier once he had gotten over his initial stage fright.

It was obvious that the audience was caught up in the spell woven by Logan and Crystal. Laughs of pleasure and gasps of shock all fell at their predefined moments, giving the play an extra intensity that had been missing at the rehearsals. When Logan had questioned it during the intermission, Davis had told him that it was a normal phenomenon; a live audience was always going to add an extra dimension, no matter how many times the actors had already performed the show.

Logan had taken a moment to peek out the backstage door during the intermission and was astounded at the number of people that filled the auditorium. He had become used to it being nearly empty during rehearsals, but now it looked like one immense living being. Jewels winked in the muted lighting, accenting almost all the colorful gowns worn by the women and some of the darker suits worn by the men. Logan hadn't seen such a display of wealth since the last gala he had attended as a representative of Cale Industries. And the noise! It was a low rumble, pierced by occasional laughter, which ebbed and swelled as the people moved between the auditorium and the lobby. It was a heady feeling, knowing that all these people had come to see his play brought to life.

The only disappointment to the entire evening was that Max hadn't shown up. He couldn't blame her, really, not after the way they had fought. He had considered Davis' words to him at breakfast earlier and had fully intended to ask Max why he had seen her with Alan, but when he caught up with her later that day, she was in his company. Granted, Leslie and several of the other actors were with them as well, but it seemed to Logan that her hand lingered a little too long on Alan's when he handed her a drink and that she inclined her head a little too close to Alan's when he spoke. Jealously and anger clawed at Logan's heart as he watched her and he left without speaking a single word.

Now, as he stood on the stage sweating slightly under the hot lights, he looked at Crystal as she pressed her back against the rough wooden wall of the alcove that sheltered them both. He hadn't seen her since she tried to climb into his bed earlier, but all traces of the seductive temptress had vanished the minute she walked onto the stage as Jessica. He had to admit, she was putting on a superb show. Her Jessica had turned out to be strong enough to make one believe that she was a cold-hearted soldier yet, at the same time, sensitive enough to bring out the passionate woman behind the mask. They were nearing the culmination of the play, and the tension in the theatre was almost palatable.

Logan glanced up as voices shouted right outside of their hiding place.

"Michael!" Crystal looked up at him as her shoulders started to visibly shake.

Logan looked down at her and paled. "Oh, God, Jess, don't go into arrest. Not now!" he pleaded with her.

In response, Crystal slumped back, her head lolling to one side. Logan pulled her close, rocking her back and forth slowly, as his shoulders shook with his quiet sobbing.

On the other side of the building, one of the soldiers opened the door and quickly stepped back as a foul odor flooded over him.

"Damn. No one could hide in there," he said as he covered his nose with his free hand.

"Search it, anyway," the officer in charge instructed.

"Yes, Sir," the guard responded.

Slowly, he and the other flashligted guard crept in, shining their lights all over the interior of the building. The moved around methodically and carefully, coming closer and closer to the small alcove that Logan and Crystal hid in. One of the guards passed his light directly over Logan's head, but didn't send up a shout that they had been found.

Finally, the first guard nudged the second. "C'mon. They aren't here. And if I have to stay much longer, I may lose my dinner because of this stench."

The second guard nodded and together, they left the building.

Just before he started to say his final lines, Logan glanced up and into the wings. There, veiled in the shadowy recess of the stage, stood Max. Her expression was stoic as she watched him clasp Crystal tightly to his body. A sudden anger bubbled up within Logan once more as he watched Alan appear behind Max. Tearing his gaze away, Logan looked down at the woman in his arms. His eyes filled with a fierce determination as he slowly bent his head towards her. His mind was whirling with thoughts of hurting Max as much as she'd hurt him. As he pressed his mouth to Crystal's, he traced her lips with his tongue. He felt her mouth open beneath his with a soft sigh. Reaching up with his free hand, he brushed her soft, strawberry blond curls away from her face as he thrust his tongue into the warm recesses of her mouth. She responded by leaning into him, allowing him to deepen the kiss even farther. After several long moments, Logan broke the kiss and glanced up at Max. It had worked. She was still watching him, but now her expression was one of heartwrenching sadness. The pain in her eyes tore at him, driving out all previous thoughts of anger and jealousy. Helplessly, he could only watch as she turned away and slipped into the darkness and somehow, he was certain, out of his life forever. "Max, no!" he whispered to himself. Frantic, he started to get up, but Crystal held on to him tightly.

"She's not worth it," she whispered fiercely.

"No!" He shook his head in denial, wishing he could take it all back. "MAX! NO!"

With a start, Logan sat upright on the couch where he had fallen asleep. His heart was pounding in his chest with the aftereffect of the powerful dream. Shakily, he swung his feet to the floor and rested his head in his hands. God, I've been such an ass. I have no reason to doubt her. I didn't even ask her about Alan. I just assumed the worst and it went downhill from there. I've got to apologize to her. God, I hope she'll forgive me. Unsteadily, Logan reached for his cane and levered himself to his feet. The specifics of the nightmare were beginning to fade from his mind, but the sense of urgency that the dream imparted was enough to push him quickly out the door and on his way to find the woman who had stolen his heart.

~*~*~*~*~*~