"Boo," Original Cindy called out as she walked into the penthouse, "you got dinner ready or am I gonna have to raid the fridge?"

Logan peeked over the refrigerator door. "I've just got to make the salad, can you handle?"

Cindy threw her bag in the closet and fell dramatically on the couch. "I don't think I can last that long . . . oh, yeah, did any of my lickety-chicks call while I was at work?"

"No, Cindy, no calls," Logan finished tossing the salad and got out a few plates. "Oh, but somebody did stop by, she left her digits. They're in your room, on the bedside table."

"Boo, who? Gimme the 411, if you will," Original Cindy walked briskly to her room, which had been the guestroom until her moving in. Then, it had been transformed into a very decidedly Original Cindy room. Posters of various television stars were on the walls and her beside table was cluttered with numbers and address books.

"She was tall, dark haired, green eyes, good figure . . . " Logan ran through the vital statics as he set the table. "It's on top of your green address book," he called out to Original Cindy, who was reviewing her lists and papers filled with numbers with satisfaction.

"Mmm, hmm. Sounds like Joyce. Now that boo is fine, she was a fine lookin' boo, right?" Original Cindy asked from her doorway.

"Yeah, fine," Logan made a face, "but not my type."

"Uh huh, we all know your type is the genetically enhanced," Original Cindy smiled a wicked grin. Logan grinned back after her turning back as she went to put down the pile of paper she was holding. After nearly four and a half years since Max's passing, the bitterness and the pain had gone out of her death and only the happiness remained in her memory.

"That's right," Logan said, sticking out his tongue as she plopped down in her chair. "Can't lower my standards after I've had the best."

"You make it sound like you and Max had something more than best booship and sexual tension," Original Cindy said, seperating the tomatoes from her lettuce leaves. "Nasty things, tomatoes. Why do you put them in?"

"Because I like them," it was a conversation that the two had had many times before, it was a conversation that they would be having over many more salads. "And, because I made it."