y o u . o n l y . h i d e
by bulletproof (bulletproof_android@yahoo.com)
characters owned by cameron/eglee productions. song by something for kate.

PART 1

//You only hide because you know I'll find you//

She'd kissed him.

She'd full on the lips, mind-numbingly, heart-stoppingly kissed him.

And he hadn't called for a week.

Funny. And yet, not so funny.

Deep down, Max knew it had to be something to do with her explaining away of the kiss. Her clumsy little attempt at clambering back up from her fall from grace, fall from restraint. It wasn't Logan's fault that she was a genetically-engineered killing machine incapable of handling real emotion, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

She glanced at her pager again as she descended into the throng of noise and action of the Jampony nerve center.

No messages. No vibration. No beep.

Sighing, she tucked the offending item away and floated straight by Original Cindy, Sketchy and Herbal, sailing to her locker in her own little locus of calm and proceeding to go through the day's motions.

Her locker popped open with practiced ease and she slid her personal belongings into the space. Shutting the door, she was startled to see Cindy's face on the other side, brow raised in having not received the morning's expected greeting.

"He still ain't called, has he?"

That small piece of reality broke into Max's tranquil denial and she ran a flustered hand through her hair, stammering. "Wh-who?"

"Rollerboy," Cindy clarified, snatching away Max's pager before her hot little red hands could interfere, "Your beeper thing ain't been beepin' all week and you been about ready to bite everyone's head off for 'bout the same time. Two and two equals Logan ain't callin'."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Max grumbled in return, easily slipping back into 'disgruntled-deny-everything-girl' mode and rescuing her pager, clipping it safely back on her shorts.

"Damn straight you do!" Cindy exclaimed with her patented 'don't-pass-no-bullshit-by-me' look on her face, "Checkit. Sketchy, tactless, brainless Sketchy is keepin' a twenty mile radius from you 'cos he too afraid to say 'Hi'."

Max looked pointedly at him, daring him to make Cindy right and, seeing her intense attention trained on him, Sketchy waved a cautious hand from the corner, "Hey, Max."

"Sketchy," she replied evenly.

"Please don't kill me," he grovelled nervously, coming to his knees in front of her, "I'll denounce my gender. Bad, *bad* men who have commitment issues and can't take responsibility for their actions and run away from their emotions."

Faced with that list of crimes, Max's temper rose anew, fingers quickly turning to fists as they lifted slightly of their own volition.

"See?" Cindy intervened, grasping Max's wrist before they could be the source of damage, "There you go again! If that ain't 'I-need-to-kick-it-with-Logan-now' tension curling in your palms, I don't know what is."

Original Cindy heaved another sigh, gripping Max by both shoulders and looking her dead in the eye, "Boo, just go see him before you take out any more of your 'I-hate-men' rage on Sketchy and he turns himself into a Mister-Sister. You and I both know that ain't gonna be pretty."

"Yeah," Sketchy concurred, inching towards Max on his knees, "see Logan, go see Logan."

"Hot run, slackers!" Normal yelled at the audience that had formed around Max.

Max broke out of her reverie and free from the crowd as she grabbed the package out of Normals hands and was out the door before he'd had the chance to say 'Bip'.

Original Cindy stared after her through the parted crowd, "I only hope Logan can handle her."

Sketchy nodded, "Yeah...Who's Logan?"

Cindy rolled her eyes at him, "Men! You been payin' attention at all?"

Sketchy only shrugged, receiving a smack on the back of his head from Cindy.

* * * * *

Max stood at Logan's door and swallowed. Was it hot in here? Why was she shaking so much? Placing her palm on the thick, redwood door, she thought about knocking, then thought about leaving, thought about the hundred-and-one places other than here she could be, and swallowed again.

She was doing this, damnit, she was going to get some answers from him, she was entering this apartment...but since notions of knocking on the front door, confronting at the front door and getting said front door slammed in her face only brought notions of flight, breaking and entering seemed to be the only way to go.

Slipping past the door and its intricate set of locks effortlessly, Max was greeted with the sounds of smashing glass, a grunt of pain and the smacking of flesh and metal on the kitchen floor.

Fear knifed through her hard and fast as an eerie quiet descended upon the apartment and she dared not whisper his name.

She sank into the shadows and weaved through the dull, lifelessly stale air like the urgency that pounded in her blood, tamping down on the need to scream from the emotion that rattled in her bones, resonated in the suddenly hollow bounds of her skin.

She slid soundlessly into the kitchen and the gasp of cold crept up on her before she'd known it had escaped her mouth, doing little justice to the scene that lay before her.

Red covering his forearm, red staining the pristine white of his shirt, red creeping, crawling across the kitchen floor. Red, red, sinister red and the nasty ring of purple bruise around his eye.

Kneeling in the chaos, Max propped his torso against hers, murmuring panicked nothings in his ear as she clutched his head to hers, running shaky fingers through his matted hair.

Turning to face her, Logan streaked Max's face red with reassuring fingertips and, pushing a painted thumb past her lips, he quieted her, "Sssh. Hey, hey, it's nothing, I'm fine. I just overbalanced trying to reach the bolognaise sauce."

Running a tongue over the intruding digit, Max calmed as she tasted the tomato, and not copper, tang of the sauce. The myriad of colours that ran rings around his right eye, however, was another matter.

"What's this, then?" she asked, reaching to touch it, but he flinched from her intended motions.

"I wasn't careful." He muttered, turning away from the worry in Max's eyes.

"With what? Someone's fist in your face?" she retorted, unable to elicit more than a wince from Logan at the remark. Noticing they were still sitting in the red mess, she remembered, "Where's Bling?"

Logan bristled further at the question, "I sent him home. I sent him back to Vancouver."

"What?" Max yelped, jumping to her feet.

Righting his wheelchair, Logan busied himself with the movements to get himself seated, unable to look at her, "Maybe it's about time you got gone too, huh?"

"Why are you pushing everyone away?" Max seethed, lowering her eyes as the revelation came to her, "What kind of danger are you in?"

"I'm not," he returned, pushing away from her, "just leave me be, OK?"

"Don't do this." She replied in a dangerously low voice, flipping the brakes on his chair and impeding his escape, "If you're in some kind of trouble..."

"You're right," he conceded, eyes still fiery, "*I'm* in some kind of trouble. This is *my* mess, and *my* party, and you're not invited."

"But-"

"I'm *not* dragging you into this, Max. Bling's already got more injuries than his body's ever seen for his efforts, and I won't have anything happening to you. Not on my account, and not on my watch."

She knelt in front of him, features softening as they got to the crux of the matter, "In case you haven't noticed, Logan, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. And I can take care of you."

Max ran gentle, feather-breath fingers across his swollen, blackened flesh and he hissed at the gentle intrusion.

"Please? Let me take care of you."

He grimaced, but at her insistent smile, he let his own break free and he touched the back of her palm gingerly. Her hand still rested on the swell of his cheek.

Max looked into Logan's eyes and the sentiments she found there were a little tender, a little... raw.

She pulled away with a sniffle.

"Besides, where else do I get a free meal and a real bed?"

He gulped. "You're moving in here?"

"Well, yeah. *Somebody's* gotta make sure you don't drown in in your own spaghetti sauce."

They shared a tentative grin.

Logan nodded, "Go get your stuff and tell Kendra I'm stealing her roommate."

Max groaned inwardly.

Kendra was going to have a field day with this turn of events.

END PART 1/?

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