Raven was thankfully alone in the apartment, when the communicator shocked her again. It was Ty again.
Rave, how are you? Where are you? Ty.
After only a moment's hesitation she lead her brother astray.
Ty, I'm good, this mission is intriguing me. I believe this city is Calgary, Canada. Raven.
She hated that she had to lie like this, especially to Ty. So why didn't she just throw this damn communicator away? Truthfully, she couldn't. Raven didn't want to admit to herself, but not only was it a link to her siblings, but a part of the life she once had. She couldn't just toss that away.
*****
Alone in his room, Ty stared at the words on the screen. His muscles turned rigid and he had to remind himself to blink. I won't let them turn you.
*****
There was no way he would be able to sleep this night. Too much had happened in these past twenty four hours. Turns out Dr. Marion was actually Dr. Munrow, and that his legs were his again only because of Manticore technology. Zack returned a good 50 years older and, in some sort of addict's rage, had threatened to kill him. And Max…Max had finally returned to him, but was more out of reach than when she was in Canada.
He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, then blinked them a few times for good measure. After staring at the computer screen for over five hours, the words began to lose all meaning, the letters becoming illegible symbols. The drug case he was working on was vitally important. Yet it seemed his mind refused to focus on the task at hand. Logan closed his eyes in frustration.
Nevertheless, he knew why concentration escaped him this night. What was Max trying to accomplish by pushing him away like that? Why was she acting as though he was her mortal enemy? The soft curves of her beautiful face haunted him ever since she left for Canada and now that she had returned thoughts of her increased one hundred fold. His mind was plagued with image after image of her soft lips, silken hair, and chocolate eyes.
Even now he could almost smell her sweet perfume, as though she were in the room with him now. But that was just foolish fancy, Logan convinced himself as he opened his eyes, doubly determined to complete his work this night, but to no avail.
Finally Logan gave up, pushing back his chair and standing. He stood stationary for a few moments, not knowing what to do with himself. It was obvious that he couldn't work anymore, and trying to sleep wasn't even an option. If Max haunted him to this degree in his waking hours, he didn't even want to think of the dreams he would have. Soon his hunger decided for him and he headed to the kitchen for a quick snack.
Though the apartment was dark, he knew his way around, so he did not bother to turn a light on. Besides, the moonlight pouring into his windows was sufficient lighting.
Barely out of his office he stopped. His body realized before his mind that something was different in his living room. It took a moment for his vision to adjust to the moonlit room, and when they did his eyes came to rest on a silhouette standing in the corner facing the window.
Max.
The moon caressed her curves and outlined her like a goddess in the stars. He did not want to blink for fear this was just a figment of his imagination, the hopes and desires he had had all night given substance, and that if he dared close his eyes she would vanish into the night. Her head was bowed and tendrils of wavy brown hair fell over her shoulders. Logan wished he could move to her side and run his hands through her silken locks, push aside the stray curls and brush the soft skin of her cheeks with the back of his fingers. He yearned to see those chocolate eyes once more, but they were closed as though she were longing to soak in the moon's silver light, wanting to return to the heavens from where she must have come.
Gods above, she was beautiful.
Finally she moved, her chest rising and falling as she took in a deep breath. Logan held his own breath as though a puff of air might blow her away. She looked so delicate framed this way in the starlight. Then without turning to face him, or opening her eyes, her lips parted slightly and she spoke, "I wish I never met you."
Logan did not know what to say. Surely she did not mean that. Didn't she know that she was the greatest thing of come crashing into his miserable life? All he could do was step closer in disbelief.
Prompted by his silence she continued, "I was fine here in Seattle. I had my friends, and the life I made for myself."
If only he could figure out what Max wanted him to say. But he was still at a loss, so she spoke again.
"I could have left them. It would have stung for a few days, but I could have left them, for their safety as well as my own. I always knew one day I would be found, and I would have to run away again. Leaving everything behind."
Logan couldn't stand this, he had to say something, "Max—"
She paid him no attention and continued what she was saying, as though it was a practiced speech. "It has happened two times before and each time I didn't want to leave you," she took another deep breath, "And I don't want to leave you again."
Logan took a few more steps toward her, his arms aching to enfold her and take her away from this world, into one where the only things to exist were them. But how could he do this when she obviously thought of him as the source of this pain? She wouldn't even look at him. What could he say to make her understand that pain was the last thing he wanted to give her?
Finally he spoke softly into the silence, "You don't have to leave again. You can stay here with me."
At his words Max finally opened her eyes and turned her head to face him, "Don't you understand Logan? I can't." The sadness in her eyes ran deep. "Nothing in my life is stable. Even my own fucking body isn't forever. If I don't leave today, I will leave tomorrow."
"Fine, then I'll go with you."
"Is that the life you want? On the run all the time. No place to call home. No luxurious penthouse or pre-pulse wines."
Logan edged closer still, gaining confidence, feeling he could counter any of her arguments, "Max, I would give up everything for you. Do you think this penthouse is my home? Don't you know how lonely it is without your smile?" He looked around him, "I don't care about any of this," then he leveled his eyes on Max, "I will follow you wherever you go."
"Would you follow my corpse to Manticore?"
"Don't talk like that…"
"How can I afford not to?" she stared at him in disbelief, making no attempt to hide her anger. "I can't hide forever. One day I'll mess up and they'll find me, and they'll haul me back to that hell. And then what will happen? Who says their stray bullets won't hit the people I come to know. Do think my soul will rest knowing I killed everyone around me? But hey," the fire in her words faded and she turned to look out the window again, "maybe it won't matter, since I'm sure genetically engineered killing machines don't have souls."
Logan was drawn to her, and before he knew it he was so close behind her that only an inch separated their bodies. It took all his strength not to close that gap, he didn't want to be so presumptuous as to assume that she even wanted his embrace. But he had to at least get her to understand that he was there. With only that small space between them he wasn't sure where his warmth ended and hers began. He placed his hands on her hips and inhaled the aroma of her hair. "I know your soul, Max."
She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck and though she made no effort to push him away, she didn't lean into him either. The cologne he was wearing was intoxicating, and she closed her eyes tighter to fight what she really felt. This was the only way. "Do you know that I kill, Logan? Do you understand that who ever I let close to me has a death mark on their head?"
"These threats you tell me of will never change how I feel about you. I love you Max."
"What happens when you wake up beside me and it finally hits you that I was bred to be a cold-blooded assassin? Will you love me when you realize that I was born to kill?"
At her words he lifted his hand and pushed aside her hair, revealing her barcode. Under his hand he could feel her body shiver.
Max could not tell if it was the cold air suddenly hitting her exposed neck or the warmth of his hand that brought on such a reaction. Maybe it was her body remembering that first time he saw her barcode when they stood before the mirror, bringing to mind the lust that burned wherever he had touched her, wherever his breath had warmed her skin. Emotions that, right now, she was trying very hard to push aside.
Then he leaned into her ear, their bodies finally touching, the stubble of his beard tickling her neck. With him being so close her body threatened to melt into him, the wall she had been trying to build around her heart threatened to collapse.
"When I first saw you, I had to know everything about you. And when I learned about Manticore and who you really were, did I run away? Max, I love you. That means every part of you." Softly, deliberately, he kissed her barcode, the very symbol of everything about herself she loathed. Here Logan was, able to love and accept even the darkest aspects of her. It was enough to let a tear escape from the corner of her eye.
Finally, she turned in his arms. Their faces were almost touching. Max barely held back a gasp when Logan's hands, still on her hips, made contact with the strip of exposed skin where her shirt didn't quite meet her jeans. Her body quivered under his touch.
"No, you can't love me." Max truly meant what she said, but her voice was weak. The flood of emotions refused to be held back any longer.
"Please, Max," his whisper was gentle yet desperate "Don't push me away."
Their lips hovered closer to each other, waiting for that moment to finally meet. "I won't let you love me…" Her own voice held no more power as her true emotions broke free, overpowering anything she might say. With all the passion released from the depths of their souls, their lips met in a fiery kiss.
Slowly Logan moved one of his hands to the small of her back, and pulled her closer to him. She would not walk away this time. He would not let her go. If this was the only way he could convince her that he would love her forever then so be it. A kiss never lies. He let all his love make its way to his hands and lips.
Max liquefied in his arms, purified into raw emotion. The heat of his hands on her skin and back prompted her to lift her own hands, one to run through his deceptively soft spikes, the other raised to his cheek to feel the scruff that she had missed so much. This was how it was supposed to be that first night standing before the mirror. Why had they denied themselves this for so long? It felt so right, so natural. Letting her true feeling reign over her body, one of her hands fell from his chiseled chin to his shoulder. Lazily, with a feather-light touch, her hand made its way to his pec, and after lingering for a moment, drifted down to the hem of his sweater.
By now Logan's lips had made a trail of light kisses from her lips to her neck. He could taste the salt when he lay a kiss down where her tear had fell. He caressed her flesh with the hand still at her hip, and she bit her lip to hold in a moan.
At this point her body was screaming at her to do something. A calling she could not bring herself to deny, because her heart and her mind wanted it just as badly. So timidly she snuck her hand under his sweater and rested it on his firm abs.
It was his turn to gasp. Her hand was hot on his skin, and it only caused him to kiss her with an increased fervor. On his lips she could taste the salt of her own grief, but that feeling was so distant now, she couldn't even remember crying.
Max's kisses, too, increased in urgency and Logan, if it were possible, held her tighter.
There was no warning when she abruptly broke free of this passionate embrace. It was like an arctic breeze blew over the parts where Max's body once was. Logan looked to her, confusion and hurt evident in his eyes. He did not raise his voice above a whisper; he was too puzzled to speak any louder, "Max, what are…"
"Shhhhhh," she hushed him, her voice enticing, lightly placing a finger on his lips and then teasingly tracing them with her fingertip.
The motion was so sensual that he closed his eyes and, not knowing what else to do, kissed her finger, wanting more than anything for her warmth to return to him.
Careful not to let their bodies touch, she leaned in again and placed a delicate kiss, in stark contrast to the heated ones previous. At this Logan's eyes flew open, and searched her face. What did that mean? Was she leaving him again?
Deep in those chocolate eyes he could see the fire and passion return. It was all he could do to keep his hands down. Logan wanted so desperately to hold her again, wrap her in his arms. But he was scared of what this meant. If he moved, would she run away again and break his heart? That was something he did not dare risk, he did not want to tempt fate. Besides, he had told her time and again, how he felt. He loved her and she knew it. It was now her choice to leave or stay.
His answer came as she lowered her gaze and stepped past him, their arms brushing. Logan closed his eyes and could not bring himself to move, he could almost feel his heart break in his chest. How could he live without her? They tried this already, what was she trying to do?
Before he could actually break down he felt her hand on his shoulder. What now? Was she trying to comfort him before she left him forever? What good would that do? Slowly he could feel as her fingers gently drifted from his shoulder down his arm, and entwined themselves with his own.
Tenderly she pulled at him. He turned around and saw that crooked little half smile that never failed to drive him crazy. No words were needed to convey her intentions as she took a step toward the bedroom. Logan could not hold back his own smile of relief, following her wherever she might lead.
No, there was no way he would be able to sleep this night. Not with Max in his arms. Around them the world fell away, and all they had were each other. That night the moon halted its endless march across the sky, and time came to a standstill.
Rave, how are you? Where are you? Ty.
After only a moment's hesitation she lead her brother astray.
Ty, I'm good, this mission is intriguing me. I believe this city is Calgary, Canada. Raven.
She hated that she had to lie like this, especially to Ty. So why didn't she just throw this damn communicator away? Truthfully, she couldn't. Raven didn't want to admit to herself, but not only was it a link to her siblings, but a part of the life she once had. She couldn't just toss that away.
*****
Alone in his room, Ty stared at the words on the screen. His muscles turned rigid and he had to remind himself to blink. I won't let them turn you.
*****
There was no way he would be able to sleep this night. Too much had happened in these past twenty four hours. Turns out Dr. Marion was actually Dr. Munrow, and that his legs were his again only because of Manticore technology. Zack returned a good 50 years older and, in some sort of addict's rage, had threatened to kill him. And Max…Max had finally returned to him, but was more out of reach than when she was in Canada.
He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, then blinked them a few times for good measure. After staring at the computer screen for over five hours, the words began to lose all meaning, the letters becoming illegible symbols. The drug case he was working on was vitally important. Yet it seemed his mind refused to focus on the task at hand. Logan closed his eyes in frustration.
Nevertheless, he knew why concentration escaped him this night. What was Max trying to accomplish by pushing him away like that? Why was she acting as though he was her mortal enemy? The soft curves of her beautiful face haunted him ever since she left for Canada and now that she had returned thoughts of her increased one hundred fold. His mind was plagued with image after image of her soft lips, silken hair, and chocolate eyes.
Even now he could almost smell her sweet perfume, as though she were in the room with him now. But that was just foolish fancy, Logan convinced himself as he opened his eyes, doubly determined to complete his work this night, but to no avail.
Finally Logan gave up, pushing back his chair and standing. He stood stationary for a few moments, not knowing what to do with himself. It was obvious that he couldn't work anymore, and trying to sleep wasn't even an option. If Max haunted him to this degree in his waking hours, he didn't even want to think of the dreams he would have. Soon his hunger decided for him and he headed to the kitchen for a quick snack.
Though the apartment was dark, he knew his way around, so he did not bother to turn a light on. Besides, the moonlight pouring into his windows was sufficient lighting.
Barely out of his office he stopped. His body realized before his mind that something was different in his living room. It took a moment for his vision to adjust to the moonlit room, and when they did his eyes came to rest on a silhouette standing in the corner facing the window.
Max.
The moon caressed her curves and outlined her like a goddess in the stars. He did not want to blink for fear this was just a figment of his imagination, the hopes and desires he had had all night given substance, and that if he dared close his eyes she would vanish into the night. Her head was bowed and tendrils of wavy brown hair fell over her shoulders. Logan wished he could move to her side and run his hands through her silken locks, push aside the stray curls and brush the soft skin of her cheeks with the back of his fingers. He yearned to see those chocolate eyes once more, but they were closed as though she were longing to soak in the moon's silver light, wanting to return to the heavens from where she must have come.
Gods above, she was beautiful.
Finally she moved, her chest rising and falling as she took in a deep breath. Logan held his own breath as though a puff of air might blow her away. She looked so delicate framed this way in the starlight. Then without turning to face him, or opening her eyes, her lips parted slightly and she spoke, "I wish I never met you."
Logan did not know what to say. Surely she did not mean that. Didn't she know that she was the greatest thing of come crashing into his miserable life? All he could do was step closer in disbelief.
Prompted by his silence she continued, "I was fine here in Seattle. I had my friends, and the life I made for myself."
If only he could figure out what Max wanted him to say. But he was still at a loss, so she spoke again.
"I could have left them. It would have stung for a few days, but I could have left them, for their safety as well as my own. I always knew one day I would be found, and I would have to run away again. Leaving everything behind."
Logan couldn't stand this, he had to say something, "Max—"
She paid him no attention and continued what she was saying, as though it was a practiced speech. "It has happened two times before and each time I didn't want to leave you," she took another deep breath, "And I don't want to leave you again."
Logan took a few more steps toward her, his arms aching to enfold her and take her away from this world, into one where the only things to exist were them. But how could he do this when she obviously thought of him as the source of this pain? She wouldn't even look at him. What could he say to make her understand that pain was the last thing he wanted to give her?
Finally he spoke softly into the silence, "You don't have to leave again. You can stay here with me."
At his words Max finally opened her eyes and turned her head to face him, "Don't you understand Logan? I can't." The sadness in her eyes ran deep. "Nothing in my life is stable. Even my own fucking body isn't forever. If I don't leave today, I will leave tomorrow."
"Fine, then I'll go with you."
"Is that the life you want? On the run all the time. No place to call home. No luxurious penthouse or pre-pulse wines."
Logan edged closer still, gaining confidence, feeling he could counter any of her arguments, "Max, I would give up everything for you. Do you think this penthouse is my home? Don't you know how lonely it is without your smile?" He looked around him, "I don't care about any of this," then he leveled his eyes on Max, "I will follow you wherever you go."
"Would you follow my corpse to Manticore?"
"Don't talk like that…"
"How can I afford not to?" she stared at him in disbelief, making no attempt to hide her anger. "I can't hide forever. One day I'll mess up and they'll find me, and they'll haul me back to that hell. And then what will happen? Who says their stray bullets won't hit the people I come to know. Do think my soul will rest knowing I killed everyone around me? But hey," the fire in her words faded and she turned to look out the window again, "maybe it won't matter, since I'm sure genetically engineered killing machines don't have souls."
Logan was drawn to her, and before he knew it he was so close behind her that only an inch separated their bodies. It took all his strength not to close that gap, he didn't want to be so presumptuous as to assume that she even wanted his embrace. But he had to at least get her to understand that he was there. With only that small space between them he wasn't sure where his warmth ended and hers began. He placed his hands on her hips and inhaled the aroma of her hair. "I know your soul, Max."
She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck and though she made no effort to push him away, she didn't lean into him either. The cologne he was wearing was intoxicating, and she closed her eyes tighter to fight what she really felt. This was the only way. "Do you know that I kill, Logan? Do you understand that who ever I let close to me has a death mark on their head?"
"These threats you tell me of will never change how I feel about you. I love you Max."
"What happens when you wake up beside me and it finally hits you that I was bred to be a cold-blooded assassin? Will you love me when you realize that I was born to kill?"
At her words he lifted his hand and pushed aside her hair, revealing her barcode. Under his hand he could feel her body shiver.
Max could not tell if it was the cold air suddenly hitting her exposed neck or the warmth of his hand that brought on such a reaction. Maybe it was her body remembering that first time he saw her barcode when they stood before the mirror, bringing to mind the lust that burned wherever he had touched her, wherever his breath had warmed her skin. Emotions that, right now, she was trying very hard to push aside.
Then he leaned into her ear, their bodies finally touching, the stubble of his beard tickling her neck. With him being so close her body threatened to melt into him, the wall she had been trying to build around her heart threatened to collapse.
"When I first saw you, I had to know everything about you. And when I learned about Manticore and who you really were, did I run away? Max, I love you. That means every part of you." Softly, deliberately, he kissed her barcode, the very symbol of everything about herself she loathed. Here Logan was, able to love and accept even the darkest aspects of her. It was enough to let a tear escape from the corner of her eye.
Finally, she turned in his arms. Their faces were almost touching. Max barely held back a gasp when Logan's hands, still on her hips, made contact with the strip of exposed skin where her shirt didn't quite meet her jeans. Her body quivered under his touch.
"No, you can't love me." Max truly meant what she said, but her voice was weak. The flood of emotions refused to be held back any longer.
"Please, Max," his whisper was gentle yet desperate "Don't push me away."
Their lips hovered closer to each other, waiting for that moment to finally meet. "I won't let you love me…" Her own voice held no more power as her true emotions broke free, overpowering anything she might say. With all the passion released from the depths of their souls, their lips met in a fiery kiss.
Slowly Logan moved one of his hands to the small of her back, and pulled her closer to him. She would not walk away this time. He would not let her go. If this was the only way he could convince her that he would love her forever then so be it. A kiss never lies. He let all his love make its way to his hands and lips.
Max liquefied in his arms, purified into raw emotion. The heat of his hands on her skin and back prompted her to lift her own hands, one to run through his deceptively soft spikes, the other raised to his cheek to feel the scruff that she had missed so much. This was how it was supposed to be that first night standing before the mirror. Why had they denied themselves this for so long? It felt so right, so natural. Letting her true feeling reign over her body, one of her hands fell from his chiseled chin to his shoulder. Lazily, with a feather-light touch, her hand made its way to his pec, and after lingering for a moment, drifted down to the hem of his sweater.
By now Logan's lips had made a trail of light kisses from her lips to her neck. He could taste the salt when he lay a kiss down where her tear had fell. He caressed her flesh with the hand still at her hip, and she bit her lip to hold in a moan.
At this point her body was screaming at her to do something. A calling she could not bring herself to deny, because her heart and her mind wanted it just as badly. So timidly she snuck her hand under his sweater and rested it on his firm abs.
It was his turn to gasp. Her hand was hot on his skin, and it only caused him to kiss her with an increased fervor. On his lips she could taste the salt of her own grief, but that feeling was so distant now, she couldn't even remember crying.
Max's kisses, too, increased in urgency and Logan, if it were possible, held her tighter.
There was no warning when she abruptly broke free of this passionate embrace. It was like an arctic breeze blew over the parts where Max's body once was. Logan looked to her, confusion and hurt evident in his eyes. He did not raise his voice above a whisper; he was too puzzled to speak any louder, "Max, what are…"
"Shhhhhh," she hushed him, her voice enticing, lightly placing a finger on his lips and then teasingly tracing them with her fingertip.
The motion was so sensual that he closed his eyes and, not knowing what else to do, kissed her finger, wanting more than anything for her warmth to return to him.
Careful not to let their bodies touch, she leaned in again and placed a delicate kiss, in stark contrast to the heated ones previous. At this Logan's eyes flew open, and searched her face. What did that mean? Was she leaving him again?
Deep in those chocolate eyes he could see the fire and passion return. It was all he could do to keep his hands down. Logan wanted so desperately to hold her again, wrap her in his arms. But he was scared of what this meant. If he moved, would she run away again and break his heart? That was something he did not dare risk, he did not want to tempt fate. Besides, he had told her time and again, how he felt. He loved her and she knew it. It was now her choice to leave or stay.
His answer came as she lowered her gaze and stepped past him, their arms brushing. Logan closed his eyes and could not bring himself to move, he could almost feel his heart break in his chest. How could he live without her? They tried this already, what was she trying to do?
Before he could actually break down he felt her hand on his shoulder. What now? Was she trying to comfort him before she left him forever? What good would that do? Slowly he could feel as her fingers gently drifted from his shoulder down his arm, and entwined themselves with his own.
Tenderly she pulled at him. He turned around and saw that crooked little half smile that never failed to drive him crazy. No words were needed to convey her intentions as she took a step toward the bedroom. Logan could not hold back his own smile of relief, following her wherever she might lead.
No, there was no way he would be able to sleep this night. Not with Max in his arms. Around them the world fell away, and all they had were each other. That night the moon halted its endless march across the sky, and time came to a standstill.