CHAPTER ONE: Too Much Time.
Logan sat back from his monitor, stretched and looked at his watch sighing. The information net was amazingly slow on tips and information for him tonight. In fact it had been slow the last several days. He smiled ironically, the world was still broken he knew, but its problems were festering undiscovered tonight. He leaned over and put his system on standby, set to alert him should anyone send something later, then backed away from his desk. He wheeled himself toward the kitchen feeling listless. Nights like this drove him to the edge of his sanity.
Bling had said his adieus several hours ago, just after giving Logan a therapy session. Logan laughed silently; sometimes he wondered if Bling's area of expertise lay in physical or mental therapy. Lord knew Bling gave him enough advice on his emotional state. Logan was always forced to sit there as Bling stretched his atrophying leg muscles, and gave him his honest opinion of Logan's mental health. During sit ups there were the tips about things he could do to keep his mind off what bugged him. That was funny because that always made him think on it harder. Weight lifting held the sage observations of some cure currently in the works. By the time Bling had left for his date Logan felt more and not less stressed out. Echoes of that stress were still with him now, some fourty-five minutes later, and it was part of the reason that he felt so edgy.
Ironically Logan was wishing he had a date himself, something to get him out of this suddenly claustrophobic apartment, and to get his mind of his internal worries. His mind drifted to thoughts of Max, and the possibilities that had peeked through their "Working relationship". Was that quickly fanning flame just his imagination or was there really something to it? She had thrown some hints his way, things that suggested that she found him attractive. But with Max it was always hard to tell just when she was being serious and when she was putting a shine on.
He would have loved to invite her over even if it was just to talk, but Max was also on hiatus. Logan having nothing for her to investigate, she decided that she wanted a night out with the girls, or her own headspace or something along those lines. He frowned slightly wishing he had a reason to give her a call and invite her over… wishing he had a reason to go out and join her in whatever fun she was deciding to have. Tonight was a night that he could really use some social company. Intruding on her time was not something that she took well, he had given her precious little of it lately with all the assignment that he had found for her to do. But still, there was no one he wanted there more than she was right now. His frown deepened as he remembered that he had no way to reach her even if he could think up an excuse. Her pager had been lost when she was protecting Bruno and she had yet to replace it. That cut her off from him, so unless she was to call, there would be no way for him to relay his wish for her to come over. Unless...
"Hello?" A raspy female voice on the other end answered.
"OH... hey Kendra," Logan said self consciously scratching his head as he always did when he felt uncomfortable, "It's Logan. Is Max there?"
"No," she replied drawing out the word and sounding smug, "She's not back from work yet."
"Oh," He said sounding disappointed, "You guys still going out tonight?" He asked hoping she would say no.
"Yeah, we're gonna bounce to Crash, if she ever gets home. Anything specific she should know?" Kendra asked pointedly.
Logan paused a little too long, "Uh, no," He said finally regaining his composure, "Thanks, just tell her I called."
"Will do," He heard Kendra say, swearing he heard her say "Loverboy" just before the line disconnected.
He bit his lip as he ended the call, "So much for that idea," He slowly returned his receiver to the base and wheeled to the large bay window looking out and down at the fog obscuring the streets well below him. Vertigo overwhelmed him for a moment and he had to consciously make himself breathe. He automatically backed his chair away from the window as if it would open up and drag him out into the abyss. For long moments all he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears.
"Why the hell do you live in the penthouse?" Logan asked himself.
"Because it's the best digs in town, and you can afford it." Another voice inside his head said.
It was a converted studio. When he had bought the place you could walk in the door and see every wall of the perimeter. The wood grain finish of the walls was already present, but no rooms had been defined. The only thing that had any definition to begin with was the kitchen, and he had even upgraded that, Culinary Miracles would never had been possible with the facilities that this place had come with. He had cured that shortly thereafter, contracting to erect walls some of the same wood grain finish and others of corrugated glass. It had been done exactly to his specification, ordering the chaos of space around him. All in all the improvements gave the penthouse a very nice open feel without getting lost in open space. The wood grain wall and smoked glass dividers helped to give the room a light homey feeling. The heights given to such a large and expensive place didn't bother him most of the time, because most of the time he didn't even look out the windows or at least down out of the windows.
Another night alone... he sighed heavily. Used to be that he lived for time to himself, especially just after his marriage ended. It had given him time to set himself right, to read a book, to study or to research for an Eyes-Only broadcast. He really enjoyed the silence and the clarity of thought that came with a solitary life. He had been a loner for a long time, crowds making him edgy and nervous. It was one of the reasons he had become a cyber-journalist, anyone that he had to deal with was always out of sight. The times that he did have to go out were always in a small party or to meet with a solitary contact in the middle of nowhere. Yes solitude had always helped back then. But that was before. Now being alone only gave him too much time to think about what had happened to him.
He had always been highly independent, a man in control of his life and where he was going. He had been confident in his work and sure that nothing would happen. He had been proven wrong, no one is control of his or her lives. One moment's decision had placed him in the crossfire, desperately trying to protect a material witness, trying to do what was right, and what he believed in. And that had cost him the use of his legs. Shattered spine, shredded nerves, and no hope of ever walking again. That had been the bitter hand that life had dealt him.
The pressure had been building up inside of him ever since. All of his shortcomings were bundled up in that one not so neat package. That pressure was now dangerously close to the surface like an abscess ready to pop. This was especially heady after coming face to face with Bruno, the scum that had put him in this chair. He had told Max that he had "Wrapped his head around it" and that she could as well, but it was not entirely true. It was amazing just how taken for granted walking was, until the ability was lost. That realization ate at him every day, how he had to rely on Bling, on Max, to do the footwork that he no longer could. It had been proved to him time and again just how vulnerable he really was outside the confines of this house. All for one simple decision, to go on his own to protect another's life.
He had done an outstanding macho job of hiding his pain from Max, letting her believe that he was fine with his current condition. She had believed, or at least chose to let him lie to her about moving through his pain. Bling on the other hand saw right through it, he knew just how much Logan was hurting inside, how much his pride was bruised. He was right to say that Logan needed to scream, but his pride kept him silent, he would not lose control now, not when so much control of his life had been taken from him.
Logan laid his hands on his knees making fists as useless as the legs themselves, closing his eyes and fighting down his anger and frustration. They came up and slammed back down onto his legs, willing them to feel the impact. Nothing, he felt the vibration of the impact as the sensation hit his still working nerves. Yet those two stumps of flesh and bone below his waist felt nothing, and would never feel anything again.
"Max..." he thought with a stab of mental pain. She was so beautiful, so intriguing to him. He was again struck by the subtle hints tossed his direction by her lately. He knew they both felt something for each other stronger than a partnership stronger than friendship. But there was no way...
Logan was careful to keep her at arm length unsure if her feelings for him were genuine, or based out of pity and guilt, "What could she possibly see in me when she could have anyone?" He thought remorsefully.
There was an intimidation factor, something Logan could only admit when he was by himself. She was smart, and strong, and though his intelligence nearly matched hers, the idea that she was physically stronger than he was even if he was not confined the chair was, to say the least, daunting. He tended to feel more insignificant for that fact in their partnership, and that bled over tainting how he felt for her. He was not even necessary for Max to survive in this world, she had managed ten years on her own without any assistance from him. Why would she feel anything toward him except for guilt, about what she felt she was responsible?
Logan's head came up as he heard the soft muffled chime of the elevator just beyond his door. The sound brought him quickly out of his cloud of self-pity. Straightening he turned his chair, heading for the hall. He brightened thinking that it might be Max paying him a visit prior to her night out. Perhaps she knew what he was feeling, how down he must be with nothing to move his mind to other things.
"I think our psychic link is working tonight…" He joked to himself. He turned the corner headed for the door, proved sorely wrong as it exploded inward.