"Look you find out all about the Richards when we get there." Logan's body
was rigid, his eyes on the road ahead, oblivious to the snow capped peaks
rising to the east or the ocean sparkling in a rare shaft of morning
sunlight off to the other side of the winding coast road.
Max ceased her inquisition and started rifling through the collection of CDs in the glove compartment, shifting her body so his sideways glance was met with a view of her back. Logan sighed imperceptibly. He really couldn't blame her for being ticked off. He had been in a funk all morning, any pleasant feelings of anticipation of having Max beside him for the next few days and of seeing his grandmother again having vanished as he woke to a dreary Seattle dawn.
Ever since he'd come home from the hospital he'd hated mornings. The daily realization that only half his body worked. The effort to get moving and motivated for another day of struggling through mindless tasks, or rather tasks that used to be mindless but now devoured his time and confidence.
He eased the Azteck around a curve in the road where the ocean had eaten into the land, creating a small harbor. Fishing boats bobbed happily in the brisk westerly wind, the sun peaking through the clouds again illuminating the whitecaps dashing against their bows. He saw Max taking in the scene as she slid a CD into the player. Whisper light tones of Sibelius filled the automobile.
"Good choice."
"Yeh, well unfortunately I forgot to bring anything loud and obnoxious with me." Max cast a dirty look his way as if, somehow, he fit the bill to a tee.
"Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you."
"I bet that's what Jaws said to all the folks he had for breakfast."
Logan smiled slightly. He and Max had been spending a quite a few late evenings viewing his old movie collection recently. However, if anyone was in danger of being breakfast it was him. Self-preservation aside, he cursed his automatic response of shutting Max out whenever the subject got too close to home for his liking.
He thought of the photographs Lydecker had fed him, now shredded, as they should be. Max had come so far from her past, sharing part of herself with him if only he wasn't fool enough to shut her out again. If she was beginning to overcome Manticore surely he could slay his demons too, the ancient and the new.
"I guess I'm nervous. Haven't been up here since the shooting. It's kind of uncomfortable meeting people again, acting like things are the same, wondering if they're going to show pity or embarrassment." He kept his focus on the gray surface of the road winding before him.
"Maybe it depends on what you're lookin' to see."
He looked over at her then, and almost gasped at how beautiful she looked, her eyes on his, proud and uncompromising, her skin and hair radiant in the early spring light. 'Dark Angel', that phrase always came back to him, man- made with a soul that soared fearlessly. He wished he could reach out and touch her, feel her strength and her softness.
Max leaned back into the comfortable seat as Logan relaxed into the movement of the car, controlling it decisively with his hands, without thought. Maybe this trip had possibilities after all, if he could just stop himself from being such an idiot.
"Logan,"
"Yep."
"Speaking of breakfast…"
Max ceased her inquisition and started rifling through the collection of CDs in the glove compartment, shifting her body so his sideways glance was met with a view of her back. Logan sighed imperceptibly. He really couldn't blame her for being ticked off. He had been in a funk all morning, any pleasant feelings of anticipation of having Max beside him for the next few days and of seeing his grandmother again having vanished as he woke to a dreary Seattle dawn.
Ever since he'd come home from the hospital he'd hated mornings. The daily realization that only half his body worked. The effort to get moving and motivated for another day of struggling through mindless tasks, or rather tasks that used to be mindless but now devoured his time and confidence.
He eased the Azteck around a curve in the road where the ocean had eaten into the land, creating a small harbor. Fishing boats bobbed happily in the brisk westerly wind, the sun peaking through the clouds again illuminating the whitecaps dashing against their bows. He saw Max taking in the scene as she slid a CD into the player. Whisper light tones of Sibelius filled the automobile.
"Good choice."
"Yeh, well unfortunately I forgot to bring anything loud and obnoxious with me." Max cast a dirty look his way as if, somehow, he fit the bill to a tee.
"Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you."
"I bet that's what Jaws said to all the folks he had for breakfast."
Logan smiled slightly. He and Max had been spending a quite a few late evenings viewing his old movie collection recently. However, if anyone was in danger of being breakfast it was him. Self-preservation aside, he cursed his automatic response of shutting Max out whenever the subject got too close to home for his liking.
He thought of the photographs Lydecker had fed him, now shredded, as they should be. Max had come so far from her past, sharing part of herself with him if only he wasn't fool enough to shut her out again. If she was beginning to overcome Manticore surely he could slay his demons too, the ancient and the new.
"I guess I'm nervous. Haven't been up here since the shooting. It's kind of uncomfortable meeting people again, acting like things are the same, wondering if they're going to show pity or embarrassment." He kept his focus on the gray surface of the road winding before him.
"Maybe it depends on what you're lookin' to see."
He looked over at her then, and almost gasped at how beautiful she looked, her eyes on his, proud and uncompromising, her skin and hair radiant in the early spring light. 'Dark Angel', that phrase always came back to him, man- made with a soul that soared fearlessly. He wished he could reach out and touch her, feel her strength and her softness.
Max leaned back into the comfortable seat as Logan relaxed into the movement of the car, controlling it decisively with his hands, without thought. Maybe this trip had possibilities after all, if he could just stop himself from being such an idiot.
"Logan,"
"Yep."
"Speaking of breakfast…"