Author's Note: As always, thanks to my betas. Having three very distinct perspectives and styles has made me sit back and really work on this fic. As a result, it's gone way beyond all of my wildest expatations.
Meg : Thank you so much for finding all the little
details that I manage to miss, no matter how many times I proof-read the thing
before sending it to you. I'm not able
to write out of character with you around!
Heather: Relavent to the story or not, your
comments always make me smile. Thanks
for listening when I bounce ideas off you and for not thinking that I'm crazier
than I really am.
Moni: See what happens when you badger me for
chapters? I send them to you and ask
you to beta them. ;-) Seriously, thanks
for your insight and comments on the latest installment of this fic. I think you're stuck with this job.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter
7 – Opening Night
The Irish pub that Davis and Max had found was boisterous and noisy with St. Patrick's Day celebrants, many of which were from the theatre. The place was called "The Blarney Stone", and was obviously a popular hangout for many of the locals. A large, 'U' shaped bar took up nearly half the establishment, complimented by a medium-sized stage opposite the closed end of the 'U'. The space in between was jam-packed with picnic tables and benches. The whitewashed walls were set off by a mixture of dark paneling and large windows. A large row of shelves was suspended from the ceiling, following the line of the bar, and was beautifully decorated with large drinking mugs. Max realized that the mugs belonged to the regular patrons when she witnessed one being taken down, rinsed, then filled to the brim with a dark, foamy liquid before it was handed to a customer. The oddest thing about the bar was the ceiling, as it was covered with hand drawn sketches, artwork and signatures.
"Are ye
wishin' t'add yer mark, lass?" The young bartender asked her when he noticed
Max staring at the ceiling.
"Pardon me?"
Max asked as she turned to face the man. He was a brilliant blond, his long hair tied neatly into a ponytail at
the nape of his neck. A clean apron,
with a nametag that read 'Connol' on it, covered a dark brown shirt, the
sleeves of which were rolled up to his forearms. His stature was reminiscent of Bling, but his blue eyes reminded
her of Logan. Max blinked as she stared
at the man with an unfocused gaze, lost in her own thoughts. She only came back to the present when he
cleared his throat. "Excuse me?" she
asked.
"Yon
ceilin'. Tis a custom far er'one t'sign
it. D'ye wish t'do so?"
Max blinked at
the man as she internally translated his thick Irish brogue into English. "Yeah, I think I'd like to sign it."
He smiled at
her and held out a selection of markers. "Well, then, ye'll be needin' one or mar o'these, I'm thinkin'. Max leaned forward to study the markers,
then picked a green one out of his hand. "Would ye be needin' a leg oup?" he asked. At Max's nod, he removed his apron and came out from around the
bar.
Max blinked as
she suddenly realized how large the young bartender really was. He topped her only by a couple of inches,
but his frame was one of solid muscle. He grinned at her as he clasped his hands together in front of him. "Jus put yer right foot in me hands, then
yer left knee on t'me left shawlder when I rise oup," he said. He nodded at Davis, who had witnessed the
entire exchange with a grin on his face. "Will ye be so kind ahs t'steady the lass when I lift her?" he asked.
"Not a
problem," Davis replied.
Max grinned to
herself and refrained from telling both men that she highly doubted she needed
the additional assistance. Instead, she
placed her foot in Connol's waiting hands. Just to make them feel better, she placed one hand on Davis' shoulder
and the other hand on Connol's shoulder. She uncurled her knee and was smoothly lifted into the air as Connol
straightened up. Effortlessly, she
placed her left knee on his shoulder and raised both arms to touch the
ceiling. She absently adjusted her
weight and smiled at him as he looked up at her. "Um, I hate to tell you this, but I really wanted to sign my name
over there." She pointed towards the
rear of the bar, where the ceiling wasn't quite so full.
Connol looked
at the area and nodded. "Righto." He glanced back up at her. "Can ye balance, or d'ye want me t'let ye
douwn?"
"I can
balance."
With another
nod, he strode to the area she had indicated, with Max easily balanced on his
shoulder. "Right hee'ar?" he asked.
"This is it,"
she replied. She pulled the cap off the
marker and stretched her arms to the ceiling once more. After a brief moment of silent
consideration, she placed the marker to the ceiling and began to write.
03/17/2020
X5 -
Still Free
MG
With a
satisfied smile, Max recapped the marker and pushed herself off of Connol's
shoulder. She landed lightly on her
feet and smiled at his surprised expression as she handed him back his marker.
"Thank you."
Connol touched
the brim of an imaginary hat and bowed slightly. "Twas me pleasure." With
a slight smile for both of them, he turned and made his way back to the bar.
Davis looked
up at the ceiling and read her addition. "X5 Still free?" he asked.
"Long story."
Davis regarded
her shrewdly, but didn't reply. Finally, he nodded to himself with a soft "Hmph". Before Max could question him, he nodded
towards the lively group from the theatre. "C'mon. Let's find ourselves a seat
before they're all taken." With a half
bow, he motioned for her to precede him as they made their way back up towards
the front of the bar.
Unfortunately,
Davis was called away to the theater not long after they sat down. He apologized to Max repeatedly for
abandoning her, but the rest of the group waved him off with the assurance that
she would be fine. After promising to
come back as soon as he was finished, Davis quickly headed out.
True to their
word, the other actors made sure that Max felt welcome among them, which
included several attempts to get her to join various drinking games. Knowing that her genetic makeup would give
her the edge, Max politely declined the games with higher stakes, although she
did manage to win $20 off of Ron when he challenged her to a game of speed
chess.
She grinned to
herself when the games evolved into an improv contest. Ron and Brad were trying to outdo each other
in what they called "The 199 Challenge". Apparently, it was a popular item, because as soon as they had started
it, the other actors in the bar immediately flocked over to add their
encouragement to the champion of their choice.
"Ok, 199
directors walk into a bar. The
bartender says 'I'm sorry. I can't
serve 199 directors here.' The
directors say 'Oh, shoot!'"
Brad grinned
and took a drink of his beer. "199
directors walk into a bar. The
bartender says 'I'm sorry. I can't
serve 199 directors here.' The
directors say 'But we're looking for some action!'"
"199 directors
walk into a bar. The bartender says
'I'm sorry. I can't serve 199 directors
here.' The directors say 'Don't worry. It's just a stage we're going
through.'" The crowd groaned. "It wasn't that bad!" Ron protested.
"Yes, it was!"
Someone yelled back.
"Ok, ok. My turn again," Brad said. "199 directors walk into a bar. The bartender says 'I'm sorry. I can't serve 199 directors here.' The directors say 'But we can produce
an i.d.'" He looked around and
grinned. "Get it? Produce? A Producer? Awww, c'mon you
guys!" He ducked as a couple of peanuts
sailed at his head.
"199 directors
walk into a bar. The bartender says
'Hey, welcome. Let me get you a
beer.' The directors look at the beer
and say 'Yuck! There's a film on that
beer!'"
A chorus of
"Eewwww's" filled the room in response to Ron's joke, to which he quickly stood
and bowed towards his audience.
"198 directors
walk into a bar. The bartender says
'Wait a minute. Isn't there supposed to
be 199 of you?' The directors say 'No,
why? Do you have any extras?'"
Ron had been
whispering with one of the other actors and stood up once he realized it was
his turn again. He motioned to the
other man, who started a deft beat on the table and began chanting a funky background
chorus. Ron turned his baseball cap
around backwards, put his sunglasses on, and affected a classic rapper
pose. "199 directors walk in-to a bar,"
he said in a perfect time to the other man's beat. "Bartender man says 'Yo. You listen to me, see? I can't
serve no 199 directors here.' The
directors say 'Hey, it's a wrap!'" Ron
quickly dropped back down to his seat and covered his head, just as a hail of
peanuts came raining down on him amid a chorus of groans that was even louder
than before.
Brad shook his
head. "I not even going to try to beat
that one," he said with a smile. "Because if I try, there won't be any peanuts left to eat."
Max laughed
appreciatively along with the rest of them as took a sip of her beer. A scent suddenly assaulted her
nostrils. It was strangely familiar and
it only took Max a fraction of a second to place it. Slowly, she turned around, only to find Crystal standing behind her. Max's eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded
the older woman. What the hell was
she doing in our cabin this morning?
Crystal smiled
insincerely in return. She was pleased
to note that Cale wasn't hovering over Nicole's shoulder like he had been for
most of the week. I guess my little
talk with him this morning had some impact, she thought with satisfaction.
"I never figured you for a morning person," Max's abrupt statement cut in on Crystal's thoughts.
The other
woman blinked, surprised at the topic of conversation. She quickly dismissed the notion that Nicole
had seen her leave the cabin that morning, but a small whisper of doubt still
wormed its way into her thoughts. With
a careless wave, Crystal slid into the empty seat next to Nicole and poured
herself a beer. "I've discovered that
I'm usually able to get quite a bit accomplished in the early morning hours."
"And did you
accomplish much this morning?" Max asked.
Crystal
blinked at Max. "I'm sure I don't
understand what you mean."
"Oh, but I
think you do," Max replied. "Cale's
tastes usually run to fine colognes, but for some reason, a really cheap
perfume was fouling up the air in our cabin when I came back this morning."
Crystal
bristled slightly at the insult, but decided to ignore it. It was obvious that Nicole was indeed aware
of her early morning visit, but Crystal didn't know exactly how much she knew.
"So, what the
hell were you doing in my cabin this morning?" Max finished, her tone deadly
serious.
"I don't think
that's any of your concern."
"But it is my
concern. If it has anything to do with
Cale, it's definitely my concern."
"I don't
believe that Cale shares your sentiment," Crystal responded smugly.
Max smiled
slightly, amazed at the other woman's audacity. "I think you'd be surprised."
"Really,"
Crystal studied Max over the rim of her cup. "Then why is it he isn't spending the day with you? I heard about the way you two were ignoring
each other at breakfast." Silently,
Crystal thanked the fates that had allowed her to overhear two other actors
discussing the incident. "Did you and
Cale have a little fight earlier this morning?" she asked in a falsely sweet
voice.
Max ignored
the question. "Quit throwing yourself
at him, Crystal. He's not interested."
"Until Cale
himself tells me that he's not interested, I think you should quit with your
pathetic attempts to dictate his personal life."
"My pathetic
attempts?" Max snorted. "Sorry, I think you hold the title for that
one."
"Cale has the
right to make his own choices about his personal life, and since he refers to
you as nothing more than his assistant, I think that one choice, at least, is
already perfectly clear."
"It certainly
was clear enough to you when we walked out of the bathroom yesterday, wasn't
it?" Max smiled sweetly as Crystal
glared at her. "If his non-verbal hints
to you aren't enough, I can easily have it arranged for him to spell it out to
you."
Crystal shook
her head. "If it's arranged by you,
it's not valid."
"You're making
this shit up as you go, aren't you?" Max stared at Crystal. "I should just kick your ass and be done
with it, but you'd probably get brain damage."
"Oh, now we're
resorting to physical threats?"
"As much as
I'd like to make good on that threat, it'd probably be overkill," Max
responded. She sighed in frustration as
she stared at the other woman. "What's
it gonna to take to get you to see the truth?"
"The truth is
that Cale doesn't belong to you, no matter how much you try to pretend
otherwise. I think you've mistaken his
willingness to hire a socially deprived child, mainly you, with actual
affection. Can't you see that it's
obvious he's just taken pity on you? I'm sure when you grow up, you'll learn to recognize the difference, but
until then, you really need to stay out of my way." Max gaped at her, amazed by her stubborn refusal to face the
facts. Crystal smiled, taking Max's
silence as assent. She picked up her
beer and finished it in a single draught. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a social call to make."
Max watched
Crystal walk out of the bar, no doubt in her mind as to whom would be the
recipient of Crystal's 'social call'. Go
after her! A little voice screamed inside her head. Don't let her poison Logan against you
anymore than she already has!
Logan is a
grown man and is perfectly capable of recognizing her meddling,
another, saner voice argued. He was
angry, but surely, he must know she's manipulating him.
The
first voice snorted in contempt. He's been aware of her intentions since he arrived, it
retorted. Yet, he still believed
whatever line of crap it was that she fed him this morning.
Almost without realizing it, Max found
herself standing at the bar's payphone, the receiver pressed up against her
ear. She didn't remember dialing, but
she must have done so, because a phone on the other end was ringing. She started to hang up when a voice came on
the other end of the line.
"This is
Davis."
A relieved
sigh escaped her as she realized that she hadn't blindly called Logan's cell
phone, quickly followed by an irrational urge to get off the line before Davis
realized who had called him. "Uh,
hi. I'm … I'm sorry. I think I dialed a wrong number…" Max
stammered.
"Max?" Davis
asked. "Is that you?"
Damn. "Uh, yeah."
"Is everything
all right?"
"Yeah. I think… I think I called you by mistake."
"Did you want
to talk to Logan?" he asked.
"Is he at the
theatre with you?" Surprise and relief
flooded Max's heart; Crystal wouldn't find anything beyond an empty cabin. She caught herself just as she started to
ask Davis to put Logan on the line when she suddenly remembered that she was
supposed to be angry with him.
"No!" she
nearly yelled into the phone. "I don't
want to talk to him. Not until he
apologizes. And he has to do that in
person."
Davis
laughed. She could hear Logan's voice
in the background, asking if she was the one that Davis was talking to. She stifled a small chuckle when Davis
answered affirmatively, then informed Logan that she didn't want to talk to
him. She pulled the phone away from her
ear and stared at it when it sounded like a struggle for phone domination broke
out on the other end of the line.
I guess
Logan's ready to apologize, she thought with a smile as she brought the
phone back up to her ear.
The sound of
something crashing to the floor and the tinkling echo of shattered glass,
trailed by a muffled "Oh, shit!" from Logan, was followed quickly by the
repeated thud as Davis dropped the cell phone and it bounced along the
hardwood stage. Max started to laugh,
trying to figure out what the two men were doing by the sounds of their frantic
activity. After what seemed to be an
eternity, Davis' voice came back on the line.
"You still
there?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm
here. Whadja break?"
A short
silence answered her. "Nothing," Davis
replied with contrived innocence that immediately brought to mind the little
boy voice that Logan sometimes used. She
heard him cover the mouthpiece as he turned to address Logan "Get the duct tape
out of my office. Bottom left desk
drawer."
"Duct tape
isn't going to fix that," she heard Logan argue back.
"Duct tape
fixes everything," Davis insisted. His
voice was louder as he returned his attention to Max. "You still there?"
"Still here,"
she replied.
"Good. Uh, we shouldn't be much longer here." She heard Logan snort sarcastically in
response to Davis' statement. "Are you
going to be there for much longer?"
"Well, no one
shows any signs of leaving, so I guess I will."
"Good,
good. We'll see you there shortly."
*******
As Logan and
Davis made their way up the busy street towards the Blarney Stone, they were
hailed by Alan and some of the other cast members. The group was sitting on the veranda of another Irish tavern and
waved the two men over to join them. Even though he knew the feeling was unwarranted, Logan felt a surge of
jealousy and anger wash over him at the sight of Alan. Determined not to give in to what he knew
was a result of Crystal's manipulations, Logan smiled as he and Davis walked
up.
Alan stood and
poured them both a beer, then nodded down the street in the direction they had
been headed. "As soon as we finish this
round, we're heading towards the Blarney Stone. That where you guys're going?"
Logan
nodded. "Nicole and some of the others
are already there and supposedly have a table saved." He looked at Davis, who nodded in agreement.
Davis opened
his mouth to add something when Leslie slipped under Alan's arm and kissed the
young actor passionately. Davis grinned
at the look of dumfounded shock on Logan's face.
"I see I
didn't wear you out too much last night," she said with a grin.
"Ahh, Lez, I thought we were keeping this
a secret?" Alan asked as he kissed her cheek.
"Nope. Cale and Nicole are keeping it a secret, not
us." Leslie reached out and flipped
down the collar of Logan's shirt, revealing the hickie Max had given him the
day before. "Yep, still there," she
said.
Alan started
choking on his beer. "Wow. That's a doozie. I'm impressed." He grinned at Logan's blushing face. His eyes lit up as a thought hit him. "That's why you keep rubbing your neck every
time you see Cale, isn't it?" he asked Davis. At his nod, Alan laughed. "I'll
have to tell Nicole to keep up the good work." He sat back down in his chair
and pulled Leslie into his lap. He
smiled at the bemused expression that Logan still wore. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Logan nodded
towards the two of them. "Pardon me for
being so rude about this, but were you two together last night?"
Alan nodded, a
wide grin on his face. "Yeah."
"But I thought
I saw you this morning, about six-thirty, talking to Nicole."
Alan nodded
again. "You probably did. I ran into her when I was on my way back to
my cabin. Apparently, Nicole thinks
running around in the pre-dawn hours is fun or something. I was just cold and wanted to get some
coffee into me."
Logan turned
to look at Davis, who was regarding his friend with a slightly satisfied
smile. "And you knew this, didn't
you." It wasn't a question.
Davis
nodded. "Yep."
Logan let his
breath out in a long sigh. "I really
owe her, don't I?" he asked Davis quietly.
"Yep."
Logan looked
into his beer, then downed it in a single draught. "Finish up," he told his friend. "I have someone I need to talk to."
*******
Back on the busy
street, Logan didn't notice when Crystal altered her path towards them, intent
on reaching him before he entered the bar. Only when Davis nudged him did he realize that she had intercepted their
path. Logan groaned softly.
"Oh, gosh,
there goes my phone," Davis said as Crystal approached them.
Logan glared
at his friend, knowing damn well that the phone hadn't rung since they had left
the theatre.
Davis smiled
winningly at Crystal, then turned his attention to the pseudo phone call. As he spoke to the non-existent caller, he
moved away, leaving Logan alone with petite, strawberry-blonde woman.
"I was looking
for you earlier," she said with a soft smile.
"I had some
work to catch up on."
"Are you all
caught up now?"
"Actually, not
quite. I still need to meet with Nicole
and give her something."
"A termination
notice?" Crystal asked slyly.
Logan
blinked. "Ah, no. An apology. Now, if you'll excuse me?" Without waiting for an answer, Logan stepped around her, deftly hooked
Davis' elbow with his cane, and nearly dragged his friend down the street in
his haste to get to Max.
Behind them,
Crystal watched the two men hurry away, a cold anger burning deep in her eyes
as she contemplated her next move.
As Logan entered the pub, his eyes
immediately located Max standing at the bar. He froze for a moment, drinking in the sight of her, as she headed
towards the table where the others were seated. His heart swelled with possessive pride as he noticed the
appreciative glances she received from some of the male patrons; glances that
she was completely oblivious to. As he
watched her, he was amazed yet again at her lithe frame and soft beauty. Her tight green sweater and black jeans gave
her skin a dusky glow. His palms ached
with the need to feel the soft fabric as he slowly removed it from her
body. His sensual daydream was suddenly
shattered as shouts of recognition from the others drew her attention towards
the door. He started to wave at her,
then aborted the movement when Max looked over, then through him, as if he were
beneath her notice.
Whoo boy, I
guess I deserved that one, he thought. He looked down at his hands as Davis handed him an ale. Taking a fortifying swig of the amber
liquid, Logan followed Max to the table. As she slid into her chair, Logan walked up behind her and leaned over,
his lips barely an inch away from her ear. The memory of the feel of Max's lips against his skin flashed across his
thoughts. He quickly suppressed the
urge to bury his face in the nape of her neck. As angry as she had been that morning, she'd probably knock him through
the wall. "I'm sorry, Max," he
whispered.
Max had seen
Logan the instant he and Davis had walked into the bar. He looked as if he were in a better mood and
had, in fact, started to wave at her. She stifled her immediate reaction to wave back and instead let her gaze
slide past him as if he weren't there. His whispered apology made her look up at him in surprise. The feel of his breath across her ear sent a
tingle down her spine. She ignored
it. Unfortunately, it wasn't as easy to
ignore the sudden pounding of her heart as she stared up into his face. He held her eyes for a moment, then held out
a hand in invitation. Hesitantly, she
took it, only to be pulled up out of her seat and led towards the rear of the
bar where it was (relatively) quieter.
"I'm sorry,"
Logan repeated once they had found an empty space to talk. He steadied himself with his cane, then took
her hand, squeezing her fingers gently. "I was a complete ass to you this morning and I didn't have any reason
to be."
Max pulled her
hand out of his grasp and crossed her arms underneath her breasts. "You're right," she agreed.
Logan
hesitated, then chuckled self-consciously. "Yeah, well, I just … I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. You've never been anything but honest with
me, and there was no reason for me to doubt you." He paused as he looked down, and then back up into her face. "Forgive me?" he asked quietly.
Max looked up
into his eyes. His gorgeous, blue,
never-ending eyes. He looked like a
small boy, begging forgiveness for his transgressions. Dammit, Max thought. How can I stay angry when he looks at me
like that? She felt a smile tugging
at her lips. "Yeah, I forgive you."
He smiled back
at her in relief. As much as he wanted
to pull her into his arms, something told him that it was not the right move to
make. Despite the fact that they had
finally started to break down the walls they had both constructed, their
earlier fight had rebuilt some of the barriers. Opting to keep their conversation casual, Logan grinned
sheepishly at her. "I could've handled
this whole thing a lot better."
"You're
right."
"I guess you've discovered that I can be a
real ass sometimes."
"Uh-huh."
"Hit me upside
the head or something the next time I'm being so stupid, will you?"
"Not a prob."
"You know, you
can quit agreeing with me at any time."
Max smiled and
looked up at him without answering. "C'mon," she said. "Let's get
back to the table before someone takes our seats." At Logan's nod of agreement, she took his free hand and led him
back to the table.
Davis looked
up as Max and Logan rejoined the group. Just as he had suspected, they had cleared the air between them and all
was right with the world again. He
frowned as he saw Crystal seat herself unobtrusively at the bar, watching the
smiling couple with an unreadable expression. She didn't approach them, however; she just sat at the bar, drink in
hand, gazing into her own thoughts with a distant expression. He toyed with the notion of going to speak
with her, but she didn't look as if she would welcome any company. With a quiet sigh, Davis turned his
attention away from the actress and let himself be drawn back in to the lively
conversations that were flying around the table.
*******
Crystal
surreptitiously studied the group at the table as she sipped her drink. She had followed Cale and Davis into the bar
earlier that afternoon, watching as Cale had immediately pulled Nicole
aside. They were so oblivious to
everything but each other that neither one had noticed when she followed them
to the other side of the building, hiding among a group of people that were
heading in the same general direction. She had some wild idea of confronting them, but the group around her
suddenly decided to stop at the bar, thus preventing her from moving forward. She had started to push her way through the
crowd when she had noticed that Cale and Nicole were heading back towards
her. Quickly, she had turned around and
slipped back into the throng of people. When they had passed without stopping, she realized that she had not
been seen. She had casually trailed
them back, stopping just before the end of the bar where she could watch them,
unobserved.
Now, several
hours later, she was no closer to figuring out why Cale had chosen Nicole over
her than she had been when she first sat down. What did I do wrong, she wondered. I'm everything she's not: poised, elegant, self-assured,
voluptuous... What does he see in that
skinny, arrogant child? She
suddenly noticed that her drink was empty. Absently, she motioned for the bartender to refill her glass.
He can't
possibly be in love with her; he's almost twice her age. He has to know that relationships like that
never work out. He'll be an old man by
the time she finally reaches maturity, and then she'll dump him for someone
younger. He has to know that. She reached for her glass to take another
drink when she realized that it hadn't been filled. Surprised, she looked up at the bartender.
"Nae mar fer ye," he said.
She blinked owlishly at him, trying to focus her brain around the meaning of his words. "Excuse me?"
He nodded towards the empty glass. "Ye've had ahnough. I'll nae gie ye mar."
Sluggishly, she glanced down at the empty glass. She gazed at it for a moment, then realized that the bartender was still waiting for her response. Her fingers curled around the glass absently as she glanced back up at the man. With a sudden burst of clarity, she realized that he had cut her off, and was not going to refill her drink.
She blinked haughtily at him. "I am perfectly capable of determining when I've had enough, thank you."
"Aye, I'm sure ye are. But I'm doin' the determinin' now, and I think ye've had ahnough."
Crystal glared at the man. "Fine. I'll just take my business elsewhere." She slapped some money down on the bar and slid out of the chair. Sparing a single, withering glance at the table at which Cale and Nicole were sitting, she walked out of the bar.
*******
Max and Logan
arrived at the theatre promptly at six p.m. The atmosphere was charged with an excited hum as people finished up
last minute projects and added last minute details. Rather than be caught up in the tumult, the couple retreated to
Logan's dressing room to wait until it was time to get ready for the show. To pass the time, Logan tried to teach Max
how to play Gin; a game he figured he might actually have a chance of winning
now and again. Unfortunately, the
thought of standing on a stage in an auditorium full of people took its toll on
Logan's nerves. After explaining the
same rule three different times and three different ways, they both decided to
give up on Gin and play Go Fish instead. Logan blamed his loss of seven games in a row on nerves as well. His look of absolute horror when Max
suggested Poker had her holding her sides with laughter. She was wiping the tears out of her eyes
when Debbie knocked at the half-open door and stuck her head inside.
"Half an hour
until show time, kids. Nicole, here is
your seat ticket," she said, holding out a small, stiff piece of paper. "There's a cast meeting in the kitchen in
twenty minutes." Without waiting for an
answer, Debbie popped back out and was off down the hall to the next dressing
room.
"Well, I guess
it's time for us to get changed," Max said, folding her cards down on the
table.
"You take the
bathroom. I'll change out here." Logan stood up and stretched, slowly
circling his head around in an attempt to relieve his stiff neck.
Max
nodded. Rising gracefully from the
table, she unhooked her garment bag from the clothes rack and headed into the
bathroom. Logan had yet to see the
dress she was planning to wear, and Max had her doubts as to its
appropriateness. Kendra had given it to
her as a gift, but Max had never taken the opportunity to wear it. Slipping the dress' gold straps onto her
bare shoulders, Max again questioned the logic that allowed Kendra talk her
into bringing the dress with her. As
she caught herself fiddling needlessly with her hair yet again, Max silently
berated herself. Quit stalling and
get out there. The dress is fine; your
hair is fine; your make-up is fine. Kendra has good taste in clothes. She paused as she studied herself in the mirror. Usually, she amended. Max closed her eyes and took a deep breath,
then opened the door that led back into the dressing room.
The stunned
look on Logan's face as she walked out of the bathroom immediately erased all
her concerns. Logan's gaze was almost a
physical caress as he drank in the sight of her. The dress was a shimmery emerald green that barely came down to
mid-thigh. The thin, gold straps that
went over her shoulders were more decorative than functional; the outfit graced
her like a second skin. She could
almost feel Logan's eyes as they trailed a hot line down her body and her
breath caught in her throat when they returned to her face. They were a deep blue, the color of a storm
on the horizon of a summer sky; filled with heat and promise. The room suddenly felt very hot, but at the
same time, goosebumps broke out along her skin. The sensation was incredible. They stood staring at each other for what seemed to be an eternity
before Max broke the heated silence.
"I guess I'd
better go find my seat."
Logan nodded,
unwilling to trust his voice.
Involuntarily, they both took a step
closer to each other.
"I'll… I'll
see you after the show." Max absently
smoothed down the material of the dress, a small smile gracing her lips as she
noticed Logan's eyes following the movement of her hands.
She reached
out to pick up the small handbag that went with the dress at the same time
Logan reached for it to hand it to her. Their hands met and before Max realized what was happening, she was in
Logan's arms. Her body was pressed
along the length of his; his arms firmly wrapped around her waist. She felt a tingling start deep inside her
stomach as she looked up into his face, only inches from her own. A small gasp escaped her as he reached up to
smooth a dark curl away from one cheek.
His fingers
left a trail of heat as he traced a sensuous line along her jaw and down her
neck. She watched his eyes glance down
at her lips. Lifting her chin slightly,
she answered his silent query as she whispered his name. She could feel his heart pounding in time
with her own as his arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer into his
body. His mouth hovered above hers for
a brief instant before he began to lower his head. Max leaned into him, eager for the sensation of his lips pressed
against her own, when a loud pounding on the dressing room door made them both
jump.
"Meeting in
the kitchen in five minutes." Debbie's
muffled voice came from the hallway.
Max let her
head fall forward onto Logan's shoulder as she listened to Debbie repeat her
message at the next dressing room door. She had no desire to leave Logan's arms; nor did he seem willing to
release her. Max knew, though, that if
she started kissing him now, he wouldn't make the meeting.
Hell, he
probably wouldn't even make the play, a voice whispered seductively.
"If I don't go
now, I never will," Logan said quietly, echoing her thoughts.
Max nodded
into his shoulder. Reluctantly, she
stepped out of his embrace. Taking a
deep breath to calm her boiling blood, Max smiled up at him. "I'm told that it's bad luck to wish you
good luck, and that I'm supposed to say 'Break a leg' instead."
Logan
chuckled. "I've always thought that
'Break a Leg' sounded … ominous."
Max
nodded. "Yeah."
She looked up
at him and came to a decision. Quickly,
she leaned forward and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Before Logan could respond, she placed a
single finger over his lips. "I'll see
you after the show." With another
smile, she turned and left the dressing room, leaving him standing there alone,
a grin slowly spreading across his face.
Logan was one
of the last to arrive at the meeting, so ended up being one of the unlucky few
that had to stand. The meeting was
actually quite short; nothing more than a pep-talk from Jerry. Only as the meeting was about to come to a
close did Jerry realize that Crystal wasn't among the large group that filled
the kitchen. Frowning angrily to
himself, he dispatched Debbie to get the play's leading lady and dismissed the rest
of the actors.
Instead of
returning directly to his now-empty dressing room, Logan followed Davis to his
office. His friend had invited him in
for a "shot of anti-stage fright" and was just pouring the amber whiskey into a
bumper when Jerry opened the door.
"Crystal's
drunk," he said without preamble.
"Shit!" Davis dropped his head into his hands and
took a deep breath. "How bad?"
Jerry
grimaced. "She hasn't passed out, if
that's what you're asking. Debbie's
holding her head under a cold shower now."
"Shit!" Davis
repeated. His eyes unfocused as he
consulted an internal timetable, muttering to himself quietly. "The curtain goes up in ten minutes. Crystal doesn't come on until the end of the
second scene..." He looked up at Jerry,
eyes narrowed. "I don't suppose you
have a stand-in for Jessica, do you?"
Sheepishly,
Jerry shook his head. He looked back up
as Davis began to swear very creatively in two different languages. "What about Nicole?" Jerry asked. "We've all seen her rehearse with Cale, so I
know she knows the play-"
"No." Logan's immediate reply cut the older man
off sharply. "She can't do it."
"Cale-" Jerry
began.
"I said
no. She'll tell you the same
thing." He held up a hand, anticipating
Jerry's protest. "Ask her if you want,
but that's what her answer will be. Trust me on this one. She is not
going to be in this play."
"Absolutely
not." Max stated firmly as she looked up at Jerry and Davis. They had sent Debbie to fetch her from the
audience, and now she sat before them in Davis' office. Logan was leaning up against the wall, an 'I
told you so' look on his face as he regarded the other two men. "Do whatever it is that you need to do to
get Crystal sober enough to do the play, because I won't do it."
"Why not?"
Davis asked.
Max didn't
answer. She stared at him for a moment,
then looked significantly at Jerry.
Davis
immediately caught her meaning and turned to address the director. "Jerry, go help Debbie with Crystal. Get her ready to go on. I don't care how you do it, just do
it." Completely missing the fact that
he had just been dismissed, Jerry nodded and left the room.
Davis leaned
back in his chair and watched as Logan closed the door behind the director and
propped himself up against it. He and
Max were speaking volumes in the looks they shared, and Davis was more than
ready to hear the truth from the couple.
Before either
one could speak, Davis leaned forward, his hands steepled before him. "Ok, I have some theories here, based on
what I've seen in the past couple of weeks, so hear me out," he said into the
silence.
"Living in
Seattle is a man who used to be an elitist snob, but ended up joining the fight
against evil as a very capable journalist. A journalist who probably manages to get himself in shit up to his
eyebrows on a fairly regular basis. So
regularly, in fact, that he has need of bodyguards. One bodyguard, in particular, has the added benefit of military
training and a talent for acquisition, all packaged very nicely in an
unpretentious frame."
"When I
arrived in Seattle, I happened to catch a broadcast of the city's masked
cyber-crusader for Truth, Justice and the American Way. Now, if I were a betting man, I would say
that this journalist and his very gifted bodyguard are more than they seem to
be. So much so, that when traveling,
they must travel under assumed identities. The bodyguard, for some reason, must be careful not to be seen by large
groups of people, especially when those large groups may include the media."
He looked at
both of them, noting that they were both very careful to keep their expressions
neutral. "Am I correct in my
assumptions?"
Logan shared a
brief look with Max before answering. "Rich-" he began.
A knock
interrupted Logan as Debbie tried to open the door. Logan moved away from it as the stage manager poked her head
inside. "Curtain is in two minutes. We need Cale onstage now. Crystal is coherent again, so Jerry decided
to go ahead and start."
Logan looked
at his friend, debating on what to tell him and how to let Max know what to
tell him. "We'll discuss Justice League
theories another time," he finally temporized. He glanced at Max, trying to convey to her that her role in the story
was to be told at her discretion. "Anything else is not mine to divulge."
Max nodded in
understanding. Logan grinned at her and
left the small office, following Debbie down the hall.
Turning her
attention back to Davis, Max smiled slightly. "You are correct that this bodyguard can't be seen, especially in a
situation like this. I… I worked for
some very bad people at one point, but I managed to escape." Max shrugged as she gazed back on her
haunted past. "These are people that
would stop at nothing to have me back in their control." She looked back up at Davis. "It's a moot point, now, because Crystal is
going on, but I thought you'd like to know my reasons."
"Thank you,"
Davis inclined his head. "I'm still
looking forward to talking theories with Cale, though, don't get me wrong. All this subterfuge sounds like the makings
of a good action-packed T.V. adventure show."
"Ri-ight." Max
laughed and shook her head. "No one
would buy such a premise. It's too far
fetched."
Davis grinned
at her. "You're probably right. C'mon, let's go watch a play."
~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Note: Fwiw, the "199 Challenge" is
real, although known by a different name. I'd like to thank (blame) Ryan, Clay, and Maia for the horrible jokes,
puns, and "groaner" high falls. I'd
like to especially thank Ryan for not tossing me off the tower for my
"addition" to his show, although I have learned how to do high falls just for
that reason.
