Max headed home from work that day, smiling as she made her way to Foggle Towers.
It had been a good day.
Most of her days were pretty good now since the raid that took down Manticore.
Well, pretty good, considering.
Original Cindy and the gang down at Jam Pony were all their same, lovable selves. Kendra and her kinky
cop were engaged (shudder).
Max had picked up some chicken from the market, so she looked forward to an excellent meal with Logan.
The day was good. Life was good.
Living with Logan was good.
Original Cindy had something pretty heavy going down with her latest lickety boo. No problem, but it
could get awful crowded around their shitty, little apartment when one of Original's sugars started crashing
on a regular basis.
Before the raid, Max never would have contemplated kicking it at Logan's while she, Original, and lickety
boo worked out their living arrangements. But the raid had changed things between them. They'd come to
an understanding – she'd come to an understanding – that made shacking up with Mr. Eyes Only a
workable arrangement, without all of the built-up tension that had been there between them before.
Before the raid, Max admitted, there had been plenty of attraction behind that tension. There probably still
could be. But afterwards, Max had called the whole thing off. Eventually, Logan had come to realize what
she had the day Manticore went down – that the only reason they had really wanted to be together was that
they – and everybody else around them – thought that they should be together. The truth was, however,
that they were just friends. Best friends, nothing more.
Granted, Logan hadn't taken Max's little epiphany too well. At least, not until he'd had one of his own.
But he came around sooner or later.
'More sooner than later,' Max thought with a smirk. There was no malice behind the thought, however.
Now that they'd defined that indefinable something between them as friendship, Max didn't mind the idea
of Logan kicking it with somebody else. At least, she didn't mind it much.
Especially if that somebody else happened to be her own flesh and blood.
Max had seen the way Logan looked at Syl when she'd introduced the two.
"What?" Logan had asked, incredulous, the first time she'd brought it up. Then he kind of laughed that
way he always did when he didn't want to admit something to himself. Max had just smiled, knowingly.
"I don't even know your sister," he'd told her. "We met for all of what? Two days?"
Two very impressive days, apparently. Because she couldn't help but notice how Logan's eyes sparkled
anytime she mentioned Syl. Who, by the way, had been spending an awful lot of time hanging around
Seattle lately. Though she was always careful not to spend it near Foggle Towers.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Max continued to smile when she reached Logan's building.
'Our building,' she mentally corrected herself.
She'd come to think of it that way. She'd only meant to spend a couple of days with him.
Now it had been a week.
And she was getting spoiled to having a hot bath and silk sheets at her ready disposal. Not to mention not
having to wait for an invitation to partake in one of Logan's culinary treats. He cooked breakfast and
dinner, and even prepared her lunch, which he sent with her to work every day. She was sure she'd gained
ten pounds in just that week and she'd loved every moment of it.
If it were alright with Logan, she might never leave.
Then Max's smile dimmed just a little.
In all truth, there really wasn't any reason why she shouldn't just stay with Logan. It wasn't like she had a
man, a boyfriend or something, who'd object to the arrangement. Not anymore. It wasn't like she had…
Max shook away the thought, and its accompanying melancholy. 'Don't even go there, girl,' she thought.
The she boarded the elevator up to Logan's place.
"Our place," she mumbled to herself.
A lot of other good had come for the raid, as well, she reminded herself. She'd gotten to see much more of
her brothers and sisters since then.
After all, Syl *was* around an awful lot. And Krit stopped by now and again. Though he'd gone back to
wherever he'd come from before that thing with Lydecker went down. She'd even gotten calls from Zane
and Jondy, though she hadn't gotten to see them yet.
And Brin…
Max smiled once more, albeit sadly.
The main prize of the raid had been winning back Brin, who'd helped them in torching Manticore's lab,
and had escaped at last.
The only problem that remained with her, was getting her to let go of the guilt she harbored over Tinga's
death. No one blamed Brin for what she'd done, for what Manticore had made her do, while she was under
their control, but Brin wasn't so easy to convince of this. Jus a week after the raid, she'd disappeared. And
Max hadn't heard from her since, though she assumed she kept in touch with Zack.
Brin's emotional scars were the one blight on their perfect victory over Manticore.
Well, almost the only one. Then there was Zack…
When Max stepped off on Logan's floor, she held none of the good humor of only moments before.
Zack had left, too.
He'd stayed only long enough after the raid to heal from the gunshot wounds he'd suffered during, and then
he'd left. He always left. And he'd spent most of the time in between God knows where. He certainly
hadn't spent his time with Max.
Max hadn't heard from him since, either.
After all that had happened, with the raid, and with her and her revelations…after all she'd learned about
herself, and about Zack, and about how she felt about him…
After all that, he just left and didn't look back. He'd taken a bullet during the raid that had been meant for
Max's heart, but had hit him in the shoulder, and, yet, afterwards, he just left.
And she'd never had the chance to tell him that she loved him.
Or that she was sorry it took her so damned long to admit her feelings, to both of them. That she was
grateful for all he'd ever done for her, but that if he ever scared her like that again, getting himself shot or
captured, for any reason, that she'd break his damned heroic neck…
She'd never gotten a chance to tell him any of it. Sure, there had been that time in the woods outside of
Manticore. That horrific time spent waiting for the others to arrive, cradling Zack's head in her lap, as the
blood gushed out of the gaping wound in his shoulder. The wound that had been meant for her. Max
vaguely remembered that time, remembered her tears and her desperate grip as she held him. Remembered
talking to him, though she wasn't sure about what. But she knew she'd rambled on, more than once, about
loving him. "I love you. Zack, I love you, do you hear me? Don't you dare go and die on me soldier!
Don't you dare!" But Zack had been unconscious by then, and he hadn't heard her.
And, apparently, he didn't want to.
Because he hadn't left her a contact number.
All this time and he still hadn't left her a contact number. He still didn't trust her.
Even after getting himself shot for her. After that time, at Logan's cabin, sipping wine and swapping
stories, and staring into one another's eyes, sitting in front of the fire…
Max shook her head, swallowing the knot she felt form in her throat every time thoughts of Zack came to
torment her.
'That was then, this is now, Max,' she harshly reminded herself.
She'd had her chance with Zack. She'd had more than enough time to figure out her feelings for him. To
figure out that she loved him. More than life itself, she loved him. More than freedom.
Yet, she'd let him sacrifice his own freedom for her. He'd almost given his life for her. And she'd never
given him anything in return. Nothing but some tear-felt 'I love you' that he wouldn't even remember.
She hadn't figured anything out until it was too late.
She'd had her chance, and she'd let it pass.
Now he was probably loathe to even look at her.
And Max had to choke down her despair over that, along with the sob rising in her throat, as she anguished
in her newfound love her him.
Zack was everything she'd ever wanted, could ever dream. But she'd let her insecurities about him and
what they meant, should mean, to one another stand in the way of seeing that. He was strong, smart, brave,
loyal. So damned giving. Sexy and tough, but with an underlying vulnerability that endeared Max to him.
He had a face and a body to turn women's heads everywhere he went, but the focus of vision not to even
notice. He smelled like leather, and man, and some spicy cologne Max couldn't identify. He knew her like
no one else ever would.
And she could have had his love. She should have had his love.
But she'd blown it, totally.
Now she was living with her best friend – the friend she'd left Zack for. And she loved Logan, she really
did.
But as she slipped into their penthouse, with thoughts of Zack on her mind, and unrequited love in her
heart, Max knew that that wasn't enough.
And she knew those silk sheets wouldn't feel nearly as good tonight, as she slept between them. Alone.
**** ****
It had been a good day.
Most of her days were pretty good now since the raid that took down Manticore.
Well, pretty good, considering.
Original Cindy and the gang down at Jam Pony were all their same, lovable selves. Kendra and her kinky
cop were engaged (shudder).
Max had picked up some chicken from the market, so she looked forward to an excellent meal with Logan.
The day was good. Life was good.
Living with Logan was good.
Original Cindy had something pretty heavy going down with her latest lickety boo. No problem, but it
could get awful crowded around their shitty, little apartment when one of Original's sugars started crashing
on a regular basis.
Before the raid, Max never would have contemplated kicking it at Logan's while she, Original, and lickety
boo worked out their living arrangements. But the raid had changed things between them. They'd come to
an understanding – she'd come to an understanding – that made shacking up with Mr. Eyes Only a
workable arrangement, without all of the built-up tension that had been there between them before.
Before the raid, Max admitted, there had been plenty of attraction behind that tension. There probably still
could be. But afterwards, Max had called the whole thing off. Eventually, Logan had come to realize what
she had the day Manticore went down – that the only reason they had really wanted to be together was that
they – and everybody else around them – thought that they should be together. The truth was, however,
that they were just friends. Best friends, nothing more.
Granted, Logan hadn't taken Max's little epiphany too well. At least, not until he'd had one of his own.
But he came around sooner or later.
'More sooner than later,' Max thought with a smirk. There was no malice behind the thought, however.
Now that they'd defined that indefinable something between them as friendship, Max didn't mind the idea
of Logan kicking it with somebody else. At least, she didn't mind it much.
Especially if that somebody else happened to be her own flesh and blood.
Max had seen the way Logan looked at Syl when she'd introduced the two.
"What?" Logan had asked, incredulous, the first time she'd brought it up. Then he kind of laughed that
way he always did when he didn't want to admit something to himself. Max had just smiled, knowingly.
"I don't even know your sister," he'd told her. "We met for all of what? Two days?"
Two very impressive days, apparently. Because she couldn't help but notice how Logan's eyes sparkled
anytime she mentioned Syl. Who, by the way, had been spending an awful lot of time hanging around
Seattle lately. Though she was always careful not to spend it near Foggle Towers.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Max continued to smile when she reached Logan's building.
'Our building,' she mentally corrected herself.
She'd come to think of it that way. She'd only meant to spend a couple of days with him.
Now it had been a week.
And she was getting spoiled to having a hot bath and silk sheets at her ready disposal. Not to mention not
having to wait for an invitation to partake in one of Logan's culinary treats. He cooked breakfast and
dinner, and even prepared her lunch, which he sent with her to work every day. She was sure she'd gained
ten pounds in just that week and she'd loved every moment of it.
If it were alright with Logan, she might never leave.
Then Max's smile dimmed just a little.
In all truth, there really wasn't any reason why she shouldn't just stay with Logan. It wasn't like she had a
man, a boyfriend or something, who'd object to the arrangement. Not anymore. It wasn't like she had…
Max shook away the thought, and its accompanying melancholy. 'Don't even go there, girl,' she thought.
The she boarded the elevator up to Logan's place.
"Our place," she mumbled to herself.
A lot of other good had come for the raid, as well, she reminded herself. She'd gotten to see much more of
her brothers and sisters since then.
After all, Syl *was* around an awful lot. And Krit stopped by now and again. Though he'd gone back to
wherever he'd come from before that thing with Lydecker went down. She'd even gotten calls from Zane
and Jondy, though she hadn't gotten to see them yet.
And Brin…
Max smiled once more, albeit sadly.
The main prize of the raid had been winning back Brin, who'd helped them in torching Manticore's lab,
and had escaped at last.
The only problem that remained with her, was getting her to let go of the guilt she harbored over Tinga's
death. No one blamed Brin for what she'd done, for what Manticore had made her do, while she was under
their control, but Brin wasn't so easy to convince of this. Jus a week after the raid, she'd disappeared. And
Max hadn't heard from her since, though she assumed she kept in touch with Zack.
Brin's emotional scars were the one blight on their perfect victory over Manticore.
Well, almost the only one. Then there was Zack…
When Max stepped off on Logan's floor, she held none of the good humor of only moments before.
Zack had left, too.
He'd stayed only long enough after the raid to heal from the gunshot wounds he'd suffered during, and then
he'd left. He always left. And he'd spent most of the time in between God knows where. He certainly
hadn't spent his time with Max.
Max hadn't heard from him since, either.
After all that had happened, with the raid, and with her and her revelations…after all she'd learned about
herself, and about Zack, and about how she felt about him…
After all that, he just left and didn't look back. He'd taken a bullet during the raid that had been meant for
Max's heart, but had hit him in the shoulder, and, yet, afterwards, he just left.
And she'd never had the chance to tell him that she loved him.
Or that she was sorry it took her so damned long to admit her feelings, to both of them. That she was
grateful for all he'd ever done for her, but that if he ever scared her like that again, getting himself shot or
captured, for any reason, that she'd break his damned heroic neck…
She'd never gotten a chance to tell him any of it. Sure, there had been that time in the woods outside of
Manticore. That horrific time spent waiting for the others to arrive, cradling Zack's head in her lap, as the
blood gushed out of the gaping wound in his shoulder. The wound that had been meant for her. Max
vaguely remembered that time, remembered her tears and her desperate grip as she held him. Remembered
talking to him, though she wasn't sure about what. But she knew she'd rambled on, more than once, about
loving him. "I love you. Zack, I love you, do you hear me? Don't you dare go and die on me soldier!
Don't you dare!" But Zack had been unconscious by then, and he hadn't heard her.
And, apparently, he didn't want to.
Because he hadn't left her a contact number.
All this time and he still hadn't left her a contact number. He still didn't trust her.
Even after getting himself shot for her. After that time, at Logan's cabin, sipping wine and swapping
stories, and staring into one another's eyes, sitting in front of the fire…
Max shook her head, swallowing the knot she felt form in her throat every time thoughts of Zack came to
torment her.
'That was then, this is now, Max,' she harshly reminded herself.
She'd had her chance with Zack. She'd had more than enough time to figure out her feelings for him. To
figure out that she loved him. More than life itself, she loved him. More than freedom.
Yet, she'd let him sacrifice his own freedom for her. He'd almost given his life for her. And she'd never
given him anything in return. Nothing but some tear-felt 'I love you' that he wouldn't even remember.
She hadn't figured anything out until it was too late.
She'd had her chance, and she'd let it pass.
Now he was probably loathe to even look at her.
And Max had to choke down her despair over that, along with the sob rising in her throat, as she anguished
in her newfound love her him.
Zack was everything she'd ever wanted, could ever dream. But she'd let her insecurities about him and
what they meant, should mean, to one another stand in the way of seeing that. He was strong, smart, brave,
loyal. So damned giving. Sexy and tough, but with an underlying vulnerability that endeared Max to him.
He had a face and a body to turn women's heads everywhere he went, but the focus of vision not to even
notice. He smelled like leather, and man, and some spicy cologne Max couldn't identify. He knew her like
no one else ever would.
And she could have had his love. She should have had his love.
But she'd blown it, totally.
Now she was living with her best friend – the friend she'd left Zack for. And she loved Logan, she really
did.
But as she slipped into their penthouse, with thoughts of Zack on her mind, and unrequited love in her
heart, Max knew that that wasn't enough.
And she knew those silk sheets wouldn't feel nearly as good tonight, as she slept between them. Alone.
**** ****
