The library was as painfully ordinary as the rest of the town; despite the relative absence of technology, the entire place seemed rather untouched by the Pulse and it was both comforting and unnerving. Comforting because the people around here had worked together to rebuild and had created a more friendly, homely atmosphere than existed in most other places nowadays. Unnerving for the same reason, because Max wasn't used to it and she wasn't sure how to react. She looked to Logan for some kind of support, someone perhaps with whom to share her feelings, but he looked content and seemed to be enjoying his surroundings. She recalled that he had grown up before the Pulse and felt terribly alone for the first time in a great many weeks.
He had come along as an extra precaution, as a sort of back up in case things went awry. If there was an ambush, Max could hold off the attackers while Logan rushed the mystery woman to temporary safety. If this were a trap, an enclosed vehicle would offer far more protection than Max's Ninja. And if all went according to plan, it would prove much easier to transport their charge by car rather than by motorcycle. There was an abundance of advantages and beyond those already described, it certainly didn't hurt to use this case as one more excuse to spend every second possible together.
"You ready?" he asked as the car lurched forward and he deftly shifted it into park. Something about the way the early morning sunlight drifted through the driver's side window made him look irresistible, almost angelic, and she wanted briefly to answer with one of the many seductive phrases that had presently entered her mind. Excess was not a virtue, though, and after the events of the previous night, jumping him now would definitely fall under the category of excess. It was important that they find some sort of distraction to keep themselves off of each other for more than two seconds at a time. There was a deeper connection between them than some of their actions would suggest and that would fade if they didn't break for fresh air every now and then; they'd become jaded and grow apart, and that was the last thing she wanted to have happen. So today was going to be about work, and maybe tonight they'd talk instead of touching. Ugh. Look but don't touch? This whole relationship thing is damn difficult.
She shrugged. "As I'll ever be." She pulled on her sunglasses and flipped her hair behind her shoulders, then turned to face him and tried to hide that pesky ever-present desire of hers. "How do I look?"
'Gorgeous,' he wanted to say, but from the look in her eyes he knew such a comment was likely to end the approaching investigation before it had even begun, so he simply grinned and offered up a chaste, "exactly how she wanted you to." His stunning operative gave him a look that said, 'how lame can ya get,' but the important thing here was to keep the two of them in check and that objective had been accomplished, so all was well. She shook her head and chuckled lightly, probably at his expense, then patted him affectionately on the thigh and exited the car, meandering slowly up to the front of the library.
Slow was the only pace at which she felt comfortable around here; everything was so different from most places she'd seen and that was very interesting to her, in both good ways and bad. The people seemed happier and better off and she liked that, but at the same time she didn't trust any of them because of it. It was still hard for her to accept anything other than malcontent, and finally giving in to her feelings for Logan was merely a step in the right direction; one couldn't hope to eradicate 19 years' worth of ice with one month-long period of melting.
She finally reached the building and leaned against it, surveying that which spread out before her with the air of a monarch overlooking her kingdom. Habitually, she folded her arms across her chest, and looking at the people and how they moved so routinely but with such content made her wish to be a part of them, and she imagined that she was and forgot for a moment where she was, the thoughts and feelings being those that she so often mulled over while on the Space Needle. She snapped back to reality when her vision traipsed over the sight of Logan watching from the Aztec, apparently trying to get her attention. Her back straightened and her pupils dilated and she saw clearly the movements of his hand, coming up and then moving downward as if to enter his pocket. She shook her head in confusion and when he mouthed the words 'left hand, pocket,' she felt like such a forgetful ass that she wanted to slap herself. With amusing haste she stuffed her hand into her pocket, as had been demanded by the mystery woman, and stuck her tongue out at Logan when he erupted in laughter. She'd get him for that...
A few moments later, her attention was drawn to a Hispanic woman who was eyeing her suspiciously. She studied the stranger for a minute, judging her to be either in her late 30's or early 40's, and from the apprehension displayed by the poor thing it became very apparent that this was the woman for whom they had come. Max nodded conspiratorially to her charge and slowly the woman made her way over, trying to look casual and not doing a particularly good job of it. She was too tense to appear normal; too jittery and too obvious in her movements. How she had survived on the lam was presently as much a mystery to Max as was her identity.
After a good five minutes of very obviously tying to blend in, the stranger finally came up beside Max, leaning next to her and fidgeting nervously.
"He sent you?" she whispered. Max scowled and shook her head, growing increasingly aggravated in regards to this individual's behavior.
"Naw, it's just a freakish coincidence that I'm dressing and standing exactly how you wanted," she bit back, immediately regretting it when the woman cast her an angry glance laced with very real fear. What right was there to judge? She was just a norm, she didn't know any better...she was trying to make it and that's the best that anyone could really be expected to do in this broken world. Max sighed and hung her head. "Sorry...yeah, we're here for you."
The woman tightened and flattened against the wall. "We?!" A convoy was NOT for what she had asked.
Max gestured toward Logan, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Strength in numbers, lady. Relax." She was unable to comprehend the reasons behind her new companion's heightened anxiety, trained as she was to value teamwork. Two people working synchronically together can do far more than one working on his or her own, right? Why were there so many people who didn't realize this? Zack didn't seem to get, it either... Anyway, paranoia is one thing, but common sense seemed lacking and that was disappointing. What fun is there in protecting an idiot who's probably going to end up getting him or herself killed anyway?
Still, she was developing a sense of responsibility and sympathy toward this woman and figured that she should do all in her power to make her feel more comfortable. They weren't about to let her spend too much time with Logan, 'lest they should risk inadvertently screwing over the entire Eyes Only operation, so Max had already been designated as she who would take care of their little mystery gal. Friendship was an institution and institutions breed security so she might as well start now.
"Um...we're probably gonna be spending a lot of time together, so..." She awkwardly extended her hand, as yet uncomfortable with such formalities. "What's up, I'm Max."
It was then her turn to flatten against the wall, taken aback by the piercing intensity of the stranger's ensuing stare. She had the sensation of being seen through and through, beyond what she knew to be the Max of today to everything and maybe things that she herself didn't understand. The short distance between them had been occupied somewhere along the way by a microscope and she squirmed...studied, she was being studied. Like some two-bit science project...they had looked at her this way so often at Manticore...
And then it had passed and it was just fear again, combined with Max's new sense of something amiss, something she couldn't quite put her finger on and that she didn't want to admit existed. She looked away and swallowed, trying not to abort this mission.
"Well...do you have a name?"
For some reason it seemed wrong to have asked it in such a way, and the woman's breath hitched momentarily, but apparently they were both equally good at stifling emotions, even if a few unwanted ones leaked out every now and then.
"Deleana," the woman replied at last, taking Max's hand. "Deleana Hererra." The shook hands briefly, both feeling oddly unnerved by the contact and then suddenly Deleana was hard and stiff and the only strange thing about her became her seemingly transient demeanor. "Now let's get out of her," she commanded.
Max took the hint and also stoned herself, the girl who had originally broken into Logan's penthouse taking over. Aloof, detached, whatever. "With ya there, Dee," she said as she pulled herself away from the wall.
"Ms. Hererra," Deleana quickly corrected. The new mask she wore demanded respect and Max had nothing better to do, so...
"Er...Ms. Hererra..."
Deleana smiled in satisfaction and they began to move away from the library, Max swiftly passing the woman and increasingly eager to escape to the safety of Logan's company and get this woman to the chosen safe house as quickly as possible. She was stopped by the ministrations of a hand, though, one which grabbed her elbow and held her back and which belonged to the very person with whom she didn't feel like dealing.
"No," the woman stated firmly. "I stay in front of you. That way I'm never out of your sight."
She then proceeded to move ahead of a gaping Max, who wondered how she had overlooked such a detail when she was supposed to be the smarter one.
*******
Post.Script: Sorry about the overall lack of shippiness, you guys...there's not gonna be much in chapter 3, either, but chapter 4 will make up for it. :D I'm yet another of those who has come to work on a No Review, No Updates policy, though, so...yeeeeeah.
Oh, and to Becky: you're close! Hehehehehehehehehe!
He had come along as an extra precaution, as a sort of back up in case things went awry. If there was an ambush, Max could hold off the attackers while Logan rushed the mystery woman to temporary safety. If this were a trap, an enclosed vehicle would offer far more protection than Max's Ninja. And if all went according to plan, it would prove much easier to transport their charge by car rather than by motorcycle. There was an abundance of advantages and beyond those already described, it certainly didn't hurt to use this case as one more excuse to spend every second possible together.
"You ready?" he asked as the car lurched forward and he deftly shifted it into park. Something about the way the early morning sunlight drifted through the driver's side window made him look irresistible, almost angelic, and she wanted briefly to answer with one of the many seductive phrases that had presently entered her mind. Excess was not a virtue, though, and after the events of the previous night, jumping him now would definitely fall under the category of excess. It was important that they find some sort of distraction to keep themselves off of each other for more than two seconds at a time. There was a deeper connection between them than some of their actions would suggest and that would fade if they didn't break for fresh air every now and then; they'd become jaded and grow apart, and that was the last thing she wanted to have happen. So today was going to be about work, and maybe tonight they'd talk instead of touching. Ugh. Look but don't touch? This whole relationship thing is damn difficult.
She shrugged. "As I'll ever be." She pulled on her sunglasses and flipped her hair behind her shoulders, then turned to face him and tried to hide that pesky ever-present desire of hers. "How do I look?"
'Gorgeous,' he wanted to say, but from the look in her eyes he knew such a comment was likely to end the approaching investigation before it had even begun, so he simply grinned and offered up a chaste, "exactly how she wanted you to." His stunning operative gave him a look that said, 'how lame can ya get,' but the important thing here was to keep the two of them in check and that objective had been accomplished, so all was well. She shook her head and chuckled lightly, probably at his expense, then patted him affectionately on the thigh and exited the car, meandering slowly up to the front of the library.
Slow was the only pace at which she felt comfortable around here; everything was so different from most places she'd seen and that was very interesting to her, in both good ways and bad. The people seemed happier and better off and she liked that, but at the same time she didn't trust any of them because of it. It was still hard for her to accept anything other than malcontent, and finally giving in to her feelings for Logan was merely a step in the right direction; one couldn't hope to eradicate 19 years' worth of ice with one month-long period of melting.
She finally reached the building and leaned against it, surveying that which spread out before her with the air of a monarch overlooking her kingdom. Habitually, she folded her arms across her chest, and looking at the people and how they moved so routinely but with such content made her wish to be a part of them, and she imagined that she was and forgot for a moment where she was, the thoughts and feelings being those that she so often mulled over while on the Space Needle. She snapped back to reality when her vision traipsed over the sight of Logan watching from the Aztec, apparently trying to get her attention. Her back straightened and her pupils dilated and she saw clearly the movements of his hand, coming up and then moving downward as if to enter his pocket. She shook her head in confusion and when he mouthed the words 'left hand, pocket,' she felt like such a forgetful ass that she wanted to slap herself. With amusing haste she stuffed her hand into her pocket, as had been demanded by the mystery woman, and stuck her tongue out at Logan when he erupted in laughter. She'd get him for that...
A few moments later, her attention was drawn to a Hispanic woman who was eyeing her suspiciously. She studied the stranger for a minute, judging her to be either in her late 30's or early 40's, and from the apprehension displayed by the poor thing it became very apparent that this was the woman for whom they had come. Max nodded conspiratorially to her charge and slowly the woman made her way over, trying to look casual and not doing a particularly good job of it. She was too tense to appear normal; too jittery and too obvious in her movements. How she had survived on the lam was presently as much a mystery to Max as was her identity.
After a good five minutes of very obviously tying to blend in, the stranger finally came up beside Max, leaning next to her and fidgeting nervously.
"He sent you?" she whispered. Max scowled and shook her head, growing increasingly aggravated in regards to this individual's behavior.
"Naw, it's just a freakish coincidence that I'm dressing and standing exactly how you wanted," she bit back, immediately regretting it when the woman cast her an angry glance laced with very real fear. What right was there to judge? She was just a norm, she didn't know any better...she was trying to make it and that's the best that anyone could really be expected to do in this broken world. Max sighed and hung her head. "Sorry...yeah, we're here for you."
The woman tightened and flattened against the wall. "We?!" A convoy was NOT for what she had asked.
Max gestured toward Logan, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Strength in numbers, lady. Relax." She was unable to comprehend the reasons behind her new companion's heightened anxiety, trained as she was to value teamwork. Two people working synchronically together can do far more than one working on his or her own, right? Why were there so many people who didn't realize this? Zack didn't seem to get, it either... Anyway, paranoia is one thing, but common sense seemed lacking and that was disappointing. What fun is there in protecting an idiot who's probably going to end up getting him or herself killed anyway?
Still, she was developing a sense of responsibility and sympathy toward this woman and figured that she should do all in her power to make her feel more comfortable. They weren't about to let her spend too much time with Logan, 'lest they should risk inadvertently screwing over the entire Eyes Only operation, so Max had already been designated as she who would take care of their little mystery gal. Friendship was an institution and institutions breed security so she might as well start now.
"Um...we're probably gonna be spending a lot of time together, so..." She awkwardly extended her hand, as yet uncomfortable with such formalities. "What's up, I'm Max."
It was then her turn to flatten against the wall, taken aback by the piercing intensity of the stranger's ensuing stare. She had the sensation of being seen through and through, beyond what she knew to be the Max of today to everything and maybe things that she herself didn't understand. The short distance between them had been occupied somewhere along the way by a microscope and she squirmed...studied, she was being studied. Like some two-bit science project...they had looked at her this way so often at Manticore...
And then it had passed and it was just fear again, combined with Max's new sense of something amiss, something she couldn't quite put her finger on and that she didn't want to admit existed. She looked away and swallowed, trying not to abort this mission.
"Well...do you have a name?"
For some reason it seemed wrong to have asked it in such a way, and the woman's breath hitched momentarily, but apparently they were both equally good at stifling emotions, even if a few unwanted ones leaked out every now and then.
"Deleana," the woman replied at last, taking Max's hand. "Deleana Hererra." The shook hands briefly, both feeling oddly unnerved by the contact and then suddenly Deleana was hard and stiff and the only strange thing about her became her seemingly transient demeanor. "Now let's get out of her," she commanded.
Max took the hint and also stoned herself, the girl who had originally broken into Logan's penthouse taking over. Aloof, detached, whatever. "With ya there, Dee," she said as she pulled herself away from the wall.
"Ms. Hererra," Deleana quickly corrected. The new mask she wore demanded respect and Max had nothing better to do, so...
"Er...Ms. Hererra..."
Deleana smiled in satisfaction and they began to move away from the library, Max swiftly passing the woman and increasingly eager to escape to the safety of Logan's company and get this woman to the chosen safe house as quickly as possible. She was stopped by the ministrations of a hand, though, one which grabbed her elbow and held her back and which belonged to the very person with whom she didn't feel like dealing.
"No," the woman stated firmly. "I stay in front of you. That way I'm never out of your sight."
She then proceeded to move ahead of a gaping Max, who wondered how she had overlooked such a detail when she was supposed to be the smarter one.
*******
Post.Script: Sorry about the overall lack of shippiness, you guys...there's not gonna be much in chapter 3, either, but chapter 4 will make up for it. :D I'm yet another of those who has come to work on a No Review, No Updates policy, though, so...yeeeeeah.
Oh, and to Becky: you're close! Hehehehehehehehehe!
