James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended (and would really be sorta whacked, given some of the events and persons depicted herein).
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Author's Note: Well, I think all of my pieces are finally in place. Time to starting screwing with the characters' lives…
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VI – Trying Not To Be 'Like That'"Logan, Max is here," Syl commented from the door to his bedroom. He looked at her suspiciously, half-thinking that it must be a joke. Then he saw the uncertainty and apprehension on her face. He tried to figure out what was going through her mind, and then immediately chased away his curiosity as he rose from the bed, putting aside the copy of Martin's A Game of Thrones that he'd been reading. He feared where that line of thought would go. We're not like that, he reminded himself, just as he always did when he saw Syl. Just like he always had with Max. And as with Max, it was an increasingly difficult struggle to convince himself that nothing was going on.
"I didn't hear anyone come in," Logan replied, trying to keep his response as neutral as possible. He was afraid that expressing any reaction to Max's visit – either positive or negative – could rub Syl the wrong way. That was the last thing he needed right now. Syl didn't say anything more. She just turned on her heel and continued down the hallway in the opposite direction from the living room where Logan assumed Max was waiting for him. Surmising that Syl planned to wait out the potential storm in the guest bedroom, Logan walked toward the living room, trying to forget just how angry he and Max had been at each other the last time they'd spoke.
It's been over a month, he reminded himself. She might have gotten over the fact that I didn't tell her about the vaccine; she might be willing to forget some of the things I said. He walked slowly, cautiously, into the living room, using all of his senses to try to get an idea of the mood of his guest. No bad vibes, he decided as he finally settled his gaze on her. My God, he marveled as his eyes swept over her. The long hair, the dark eyes . . . "Max!" he almost yelled out in joy, hardly aware that the voice he heard was his own. "I wasn't expecting you." But I'm so glad you're here, he added silently, thankful that he had at least kept that much to himself.
"I know," Max replied, smiling broadly, warmth and joy spreading across her face, lighting up her eyes in a way Logan had never seen in any other woman. She sat back as the smile slowly receded, seeming to struggle for continued life. Logan knew the look well – Max's emotions had gotten the better of her. She was trying to make sense of a situation she hadn't even remotely expected. Which is only fair, Logan decided. He hadn't expected his own excitement at seeing her again; he couldn't imagine how she could have seen it coming.
"Can I get you anything?" he offered, already taking a few steps toward the kitchen.
"Maybe some tea." Max stood up and followed him into the kitchen, still smiling as she reached up into the cabinets and pulled out a couple of tea bags while Logan started boiling water. "Is Syl gonna join us?"
"No," Logan replied, trying to conceal any indication that just the mention of Syl's name was making him uncomfortable at the moment. He didn't want to think about Syl while he was talking to Max. That would be just far too weird. "She's gonna take a quick cat nap while you're here," he added, making up what he felt was a plausible story as he went along. "She hardly ever sleeps – she's always on guard duty. Figures she should take the opportunity while it's here."
"She trust me to keep you safe while she catches some Z's?" Max asked with a dubious smile. She's hiding something, Logan decided, suddenly fearful that Max might suspect something between Syl and him.
"Who better than the Chosen One?" Logan asked, trying to keep some mirth in his voice. Max smiled thinly, awkwardly. She's still uncomfortable being seen as a Messiah, Logan decided. That's a good sign.
"Logan, please," Max said softly, looking at him right in the eyes. "Don't call me that, 'k?"
"Fine," Logan answered, unable to free himself from her gaze. It was with great surprise that he realized he didn't want to free himself. He wanted to stay in that moment for . . . For how long? he asked himself. Just what the hell am I doing? I haven't seen her for over a month, he reminded himself, and here I am acting like some schoolboy with a crush. I have to remember my responsibilities – the work, the war, the secrets I swore to keep from her… All the reasons for sending her away came rushing back, and he found himself wondering if his sacrifice was worth the pain he felt every day, the incessant longing just to see her, if only for a moment. He tried to focus as he continued to look in her eyes, and then finally, and very noticeably, tore his gaze away. He noticed a shocked, almost disappointed look on Max's face, but he consciously avoided thinking about it. "So I guess you've been busy," he said, trying to find a neutral topic of conversation that could keep them both preoccupied enough to stop with the Spelling-esque drama in the kitchen.
"Very," Max agreed, for her part suddenly appearing desperately interested in the writing on the back of the teabag wrappers she was holding.
"So is this your first time out since…"
"Since the night we had our little . . . discussion," Max told him.
"Right," Logan responded, trying not to dwell on memories of the bitter argument they'd had. The things they'd said that night had kept them apart for over a month. It was not something he wanted to rehash in his mind. I can't believe I ever sent her away, he thought for a brief moment before he chased his feelings from his heart once again, futilely trying to convince even himself that his feelings went no further than friendship.
"Maybe I shouldn't have come," Max suggested. "I didn't mean to --"
"No, I'm glad you did," Logan interrupted. "It's good to see you again. I've just been so busy."
"I know," Max assured him. "The amount of intel you've dug up, the way you speak when you give your reports . . . it's all amazing. You're amazing."
"I'm just a guy doing his part," Logan replied humbly. "You're the amazing one, Max. The way you hold everything together, especially with the amount of stress you've got to be under."
"I couldn't do it alone," Max assured him. "Believe it or not, even Alec has been a huge help." Just the mention of Alec's name felt like a dagger thrust into Logan's gut, but he fought to hide his reaction from his longtime friend. He'd done his best to assure Max that he knew she'd been lying to him when she said she and Alec were an item, and Logan knew that that was, in fact, the truth. Despite knowing that, however, he couldn't help feeling jealous. He knew it was juvenile and irrational, but he couldn't help himself.
"And how's Joshua doing?" Logan asked, hoping directing Max's attention away from Alec would help him maintain his illusion of indifference.
"He's well," Max said with a nod and a smile. "He even got a tattoo."
"He what?"
"He had Dix give him a tattoo," Max explained. "It's a barcode, just like the rest of us. I think he wanted to make a show of solidarity, though he interestingly got a barcode of all zeroes."
"Worried about people forgetting his status as the first one?" Logan asked with a chuckle, remembering the pride with which Joshua always reminded everyone who would listen that he was Sandeman's first creation in the Manticore project.
"Well, you know, all that canine DNA," Max lamented comically. "He's always getting distracted by status in the pack and such stuff. Too bad he doesn't have more feline in him – he'd worry more about ways to be left alone."
"Is that what you want?" Logan asked suddenly, afraid that Max had been trying to imply something that he'd missed. Is this just a business visit? he wondered. Is she trying to make sure I don't read anything into it? He found himself on the verge of panic that she'd actually moved on like he'd told her to.
"No," Max said quickly, as if reading his thoughts. "That's not what I meant. At least not totally. I'll admit that once in awhile it would be nice to have a couple of days to myself, but don't think I'm looking to avoid you or anything." She seemed to blush as soon as she'd spoken, and Logan knew she'd said more than she'd planned to. Now how should I respond to that?
"I was hoping not," he said, deciding that was a suitably non-committal answer. She could take that just about any number of ways.
"I mean . . . I don't know what I mean," Max muttered, shaking her head in apparent frustration. "Logan…"
"Yes?"
"Last time I was here, we both said a lot of things," Max said, once again directing her gaze on the teabags in her hand. "I just want you to know that I didn't really mean all of it." Logan felt a wave of relief wash over him. He'd never expected Max to come by and apologize. He found himself wishing for a return to the way things had always been. This is it! he thought excitedly. She's here. She knows how she feels, and she's willing to act on it. There's no virus in the way now.
"I didn't mean it either," he assured her as he tried to remember every single word he'd said, just in case she asked him exactly what he had meant, and what he hadn't.
"And I don't want to get into that whole conversation again, because I can't imagine how we could do that and not have another argument."
"Okay," Logan said soothingly. He could swear he heard the first inkling of emotion in Max's voice, and he knew that was a bad sign. Only rarely was she ever expressive in a non-angry way, and on those few occasions she almost invariably ended up losing control because of her lack of experience with her feelings. Logan didn't want that this time.
"I just want to say that when you said we had responsibilities . . . well, you were right," she said, stifling the threat of a sob. "I didn't know then just how serious that was. I do now." Logan could see that much in her eyes. It seemed that the last of that carefree little girl he'd met a few years earlier had finally gone away. Her eyes still glowed with warmth and compassion, but there was a certain grim determination that hadn't been there before. He imagined it was like looking into the eyes of young soldiers visiting home after their first time on the front. Max had grown up very fast. Too fast, he decided sadly. No one should have to go through what she has. It isn't fair.
"I'm sorry I got so angry," Logan said to her, trying to figure out how much more he could say. He wanted to tell her so much, but that voice in the back of his head kept reminding him that the situation hadn't changed – they both still had jobs to do. I can't tell her yet, he decided. "I really didn't mean to hurt you. It's just that --"
"I know," Max assured him. "You don't need to say it. You wanted to keep me safe." Logan couldn't think of anything to say, so he just looked at Max with the most compassionate, understanding, and affectionate expression he could muster. He tried to say with his expression what he didn't dare say aloud. "I still don't think it was right for you to do what you did, though," she added. "I had a right to know."
"I thought we weren't gonna get into this again," Logan commented, making certain he continued to sound calm and friendly. He knew that if Max pushed the conversation he would likely lash out at her, but he was determined to hold his tongue for as long as he could. He didn't want to go through another month kicking himself for the way he'd spoken to Max. Especially not with all that could happen this month.
"Sorry," Max apologized, sounding genuinely contrite. "I didn't mean it that way. I just . . . never mind."
"Okay," Logan replied. He couldn't help but smile, despite the fact that Max seemed to be on the verge of tears. All that mattered was that he and Max had managed to get through five whole minutes without yelling. The teakettle began to whistle, and as Logan took a step forward to pour the water for tea, Max practically lunged at him. Before he even knew what was happening, he found himself in her arms, a vise-like embrace that he suddenly feared would suffocate him. He looked into her eyes, still so dark, and warm, and familiar. Pull away, now! a voice screamed at him, seemingly from so far away. He ignored his subconscious' warning and leaned in, inhaling Max's breath and touching his lips lightly to hers. He'd only meant to give her a soft kiss, little more than a sign of friendship, but then felt her hand on the back of his head, drawing him in, deepening the kiss into something wild, something intensely passionate. It was a repeat of the kiss that they'd only shared once before, the first time she returned to him from the dead. Startled by Max's display, he pushed her away, softly yet forcefully, and locked his gaze onto hers. I can't, he lamented silently. It's the one thing I really want, and it's the one thing I can't have. If I give in now, I may never be able to stop. We both have things to do. We can't be together.
He could see confusion in her expression, bewilderment as to why he'd pulled away after initially giving in so completely. There was also a hint of disappointment and sadness. And eagerness to lock lips once again. "Max…"
"No, don't," she purred as she leaned in, a quick, unexplained kiss pecking at his neck. She must be in heat, he tried to tell himself. It's the only explanation for this kind of behavior. One look at her face, though, convinced him of the truth. She's not in heat, he admitted. It's so much worse. She came here to make up. She came to convince me that she understands what we've gotten ourselves into, and she's willing to do what she needs to to get us together. Damnit, he cursed as he drew back a slight bit more.
"Why?" Max asked curtly, taking a half-step back and appraising him with a semi-disdainful gaze. Logan was completely unsettled by her rapid mood changes.
"Max, it's just --"
"No," she interrupted. "Please don't say anything, Logan. I'm not trying to seduce you, if that's what you think. And I guess I shouldn't have been so forward. It's just. . . . I don't know. I just needed to feel close to someone, if that makes any sense. I've just felt so alone, and I've missed you so much. You know what I mean?"
Oh, I know exactly what you mean, Logan answered silently, thinking back to the night he'd first slept with Syl, struggling with the guilt that had plagued him ever since. That night he had felt hopelessly overwhelmed by his own life, and he was certain he could never handle it all alone. Then Syl had come to him, and he gladly accepted her affections, if only to make him feel as if the burden of his life had somehow been lessened. It hadn't been about love, it hadn't even been about lust. He'd been vulnerable, hurt, consumed with agony over his apparent split with Max, and wracked with stress over the apocalyptic situation in which he'd found himself. When Syl had come to him, her warm skin and tender eyes promising to make the pain go away, he'd found himself unable to resist. And then one night's solace became two, and then three, and a week, and a month… He looked at Max and wondered at his luck. And his stupidity. I did everything I could to move on. I finally dared to think I could get over Max, whether I ended up with Syl or not, and then she comes waltzing right back through my door, reminding me of why I'd been so entranced for so damn long. He fought the desire to scream in frustrated rage. I honestly don't know if I can send her away again.
"Logan?" Max asked, taking a cautious half-step forward, seeming concerned that he was so obviously preoccupied with his own thoughts. "Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah," he assured her. "My mind just wandered for a second there. I've got so much going on right now."
"I know what you mean," Max responded, taking another half-step forward, grabbing the front of Logan's shirt lightly as she pulled him into a loose, friendly hug. It lacked the passion of their previous embrace, but it warmed Logan nonetheless, it made him feel safe and comfortable. He hugged her back, inhaling her perfume as his lips spread into a smile. I'm so screwed, he decided, suddenly realizing that his fears were well founded. I admit it – I can't ask her to go this time.
"Let me get the tea," he said, pushing her away ever so softly, immediately counting the seconds until he was back in her arms. "We can talk out in the living room." As she backed away slowly, he saw a look of shock on her face. "What?" he asked. "What is it?" She didn't answer him. Max just turned and bolted for the front door, not even bothering to grab her jacket as she raced for the stairwell. Logan only caught sight of a blur that darted out of his view. "Max!" he called out loudly. "What is it?" There was no response.
-------------------------------------------------
"Hey," Max muttered from the doorway, looking straight into Syl's eyes. She seemed different than she had the last time Max had come by. Gone was the openly challenging gaze, the implicit standoffishness that had thrown Max completely off-balance. There was still something strange in her demeanor, though; something almost territorially defensive, but Max concluded that had to do with the fact that Syl was currently assigned to guard duty.
"Hey," Syl answered with a shadow of a grin flitting across her face. "He isn't expecting you," she added. With her words, though, the shadow grew into a smile, though it lacked any genuine warmth. It seemed forced, unsure, and cold. Max had hoped that Syl would grow more comfortable with Logan as she spent more time with him. Several weeks should have been enough to endear him to just about anyone, Max had thought. She wondered whether she should raise the topic with Logan – after all, the last thing she wanted for Logan was a bodyguard that spent her day wishing she could leave.
"I was just out and thought I'd come by," Max commented as she entered Logan's penthouse, following on Syl's heels. She was instantly assaulted by the familiar scent of home cooking. Funny, Max pondered as she kicked off her boots. She'd never really dwelled on it before, but the scent always changed; one day it was pot roast, another it was Tex-Mex, and another Szechwan beef. All very different, but all meaning the same thing – Logan was at it again in the kitchen. She smiled at the vague familiarity of it all while she marveled that Syl had been able to maintain her thin, athletic figure while obviously facing the daily temptation of eating enough to really pack on the pounds.
"Surprised you actually left Terminal City," Syl remarked as she gestured toward the couch. Max sat down as Syl continued through the apartment, presumably going to tell Logan that he had a guest.
"Had a meeting. Besides, it's been calm enough lately," Max called out to her retreating sister. "I figured I'd get out and stretch my legs a bit. Alec and Joshua have everything under control back home." She waited for a few brief moments, fighting the urge to eavesdrop on Syl and Logan as she told him he had a guest. It didn't take Logan long to come out and play host.
"Max!" Logan called out happily as he walked into the room, Syl having stayed behind farther inside the penthouse. "I wasn't expecting you."
"I know," Max replied, a delighted smile lighting her face. She hadn't expected Logan to seem so happy to see her. Part of her argued that she should immediately start interrogating him to find out why he seemed so happy, while another part was screaming for her to stop being suspicious and just rush up and give him a hug. She settled for a compromise – staying seated on the couch and beaming up at her host like a delighted schoolgirl. She couldn't avoid thinking about the fact that the entire situation seemed wrong, somehow. The last time she and Logan had been in the same room, the result had been an argument that she feared would drive a wedge between them forever. Now he seemed to be on the verge of tears of joy. It was all more than Max had expected. She'd figured the best she'd get was a polite conversation that would allow them to start mending their friendship.
"Can I get you anything?" Logan offered, as usual catering to his guest's every need. It was something Max missed, and the familiarity of the situation made her feel comfortable, at home.
"Maybe some tea." Max stood up and followed Logan into the kitchen, surprised when she realized her eyes had wandered to Logan's butt. As nice as ever, she decided as she diverted her eyes and started looking in the cabinets for the teabags. Right where I left them, she thought with a smile as she dug out a variety pack of assorted teas. She took out an Earl Gray for Logan, and after a moment's deliberation decided upon some Japanese Green Tea for herself. She was just about to put the box away when a new thought occurred to her. "Is Syl gonna join us?" she asked, hoping even as she spoke that the answer would be no.
"No," Logan replied, obviously so involved in filling the teapot with water that he missed Max's relieved sigh. "She's gonna take a quick cat nap while you're here," he added. "She hardly ever sleeps – she's always on guard duty. Figures she should take the opportunity while it's here." Max nodded absently, satisfied that Syl seemed to take her responsibilities seriously. At the same time, though, something in Max's gut didn't feel quite right. She found herself pursuing the topic, even though she hadn't really planned to.
"She trust me to keep you safe while she catches some Z's?" she asked, trying to smile so that Logan wouldn't suspect she was suspicious. But suspicious of what? she wondered at her own reaction. Logan's alive, so it seems like Syl's been doing an okay job so far. Just what is it that's got you wigged out?
"Who better than the Chosen One?" Logan asked with a smile. Max wondered if Logan knew just how much it pissed her off to be called 'The Chosen One.' It wasn't a title she felt could apply to someone like her, and it implied a burden she didn't feel capable of supporting.
"Logan, please," Max said softly, looking at him right in the eyes, trying to display her resolve and impress upon him just how serious she was about this issue. "Don't call me that, 'k?"
"Fine," Logan answered, appearing unable to free himself from her gaze. Max felt herself caught up in Logan's eyes, suddenly remembering the first time she'd ever seen him. I wonder how much different my life would have been if I hadn't had a thing for Bast, she mused, thinking through the past couple years, trying to determine what, if anything, would have been the same. Try as she might, she couldn't imagine having been in Seattle anywhere near as long as she'd been if she hadn't gotten to know Logan. You know, I probably would never have known about the Familiars, either, she decided. And with that thought her mind flashed from her comfortable reverie about friendships back to the uncomfortable consideration of her current situation. McElroy, and White, and everything else, she fumed silently, just as Logan tore his gaze away, suddenly making Max feel very alone against the challenges facing her. Max could only wonder what had been going through her friend's mind, and she fought to conceal her disappointment that he didn't seem as committed to being there for her. "So I guess you've been busy," he said, obviously trying to change the topic.
"Very," Max agreed, deciding to let her host avoid any serious conversations if that's what he wanted.
"So is this your first time out since…"
"Since the night we had our little . . . discussion," Max told him. She kept to herself the fact that the only good reason she could think of for leaving Terminal City was to see him, and that in the wake of their argument she hadn't thought she'd be welcome.
"Right," Logan responded.
"Maybe I shouldn't have come," Max suggested, surprised that she felt so awkward. I didn't even feel this uneasy in here when I was breaking in, she marveled. "I didn't mean to --"
"No, I'm glad you did," Logan interrupted. Suddenly, Max was wondering at the meaning of the strange, fluttering sensation in her stomach. "It's good to see you again. I've just been so busy."
"I know," Max responded, happily grabbing hold of an opportunity to inject some normalcy – some of their reassuring old familiarity – back into the conversation. "The amount of intel you've dug up, the way you speak when you give your reports . . . it's all amazing. You're amazing." And don't I just sound like a bit of a dope, Max chided herself. Shouldn't 'The Chosen One' seem far more calm, cool, and collected? I sound like a kid…
"I'm just a guy doing his part," Logan replied humbly. "You're the amazing one, Max. The way you hold everything together, especially with the amount of stress you've got to be under."
"I couldn't do it alone," Max assured him, taking a slow step forward, wondering if Logan even noticed her hesitant advance. "Believe it or not, even Alec has been a huge help." Damnit! she cursed silently as soon as the words escaped her lips. She knew all too well that Logan would react poorly to the mention of Alec's name. In confirmation of Max's fears, she saw a dark cloud mushroom up behind Logan's eyes. Please don't be angry, please don't be angry, please don't be angry, Max pleaded silently, even as it suddenly struck her as incredibly odd that she should care so much. Oh crap. Just what are you doing, Max? she asked herself suspiciously, as if her subconscious had had a plan all along, and that she was only then beginning to catch on.
"And how's Joshua doing?" Logan asked, not at all abashed at his obvious attempt to change the topic once more. Max was more than happy to let him do it as she continued to figure out what she was doing.
"He's well," Max said with a nod and a smile, reflecting on how much Joshua had been coming into his own. "He even got a tattoo."
"He what?" Logan asked in wise-eyed surprise, his expression amusing Max more than Joshua's tattoo had.
"He had Dix give him a tattoo," Max explained. "It's a barcode, just like the rest of us. I think he wanted to make a show of solidarity, though he interestingly got a barcode of all zeroes."
"Worried about people forgetting his status as the first one?" Logan asked with a chuckle.
"Well, you know, all that canine DNA," Max commented with an amused, sarcastic grin. "He's always getting distracted by status in the pack and such stuff. Too bad he doesn't have more feline in him – he'd worry more about ways to be left alone."
"Is that what you want?" Logan hadn't missed a beat with his question, and Max was afraid a minor slip of the tongue could erase all the progress she'd felt they were making in closing the rift that had opened up between them in their last conversation.
"No," Max said quickly, her mind racing into damage control mode. "That's not what I meant. At least not totally. I'll admit that once in awhile it would be nice to have a couple of days to myself, but don't think I'm looking to avoid you or anything." She was immediately embarrassed by how forthcoming she'd been about her feelings. Can I be any more obvious? she wondered as she felt her cheeks blush.
"I was hoping not," Logan said cautiously. Is he afraid to seem interested? Max wondered. Or is he really as aloof as he's trying to appear? How can it be so hard to read to him? It used to be so easy, not so long ago…
"I mean . . . I don't know what I mean," Max muttered, her logical side openly warring with her emotions as she wondered whether or not she should just drop the subject and talk about something neutral. Maybe the weather, she decided. "Logan…" Oh shit, she cursed silently. She hadn't meant to say anything yet. She certainly hadn't meant to sound like a lovesick teenage girl. But I so did, she realized, disappointed at her lack of self-control.
"Yes?" His eyes were imploring her to continue, to let him know that everything was fine between them again. She could see that he was wracked by guilt over the angry words they'd spat at each other a month earlier, and she knew all too well that his overdeveloped sense of pride would make it all but impossible to apologize until he at least had some hope that she felt the same way. Who woulda guessed he was such a chicken in a relationship? she wondered with no small bit of delight. I love knowing little things like that about him. I love… She chased the thought away before she could finish it, herself suddenly afraid of her own feelings and the terrifying specter of intimacy that had always hung between her and Logan. She took a deep breath and steeled her resolve, deciding that for the time being she would just concentrate on the apology phase of the conversation. I'll just leave that emotional crap for later. I don't want to have to figure out my feelings in front of Mr. Eyes Only.
"Last time I was here, we both said a lot of things," Max said, choosing her words with the care of a hostage negotiator, praying she didn't say anything that would set Logan off and turn the entire night into another huge fiasco. "I just want you to know that I didn't really mean all of it."
"I didn't mean it either," he answered warmly.
"And I don't want to get into that whole conversation again, because I can't imagine how we could do that and not have another argument." Good job Max, she congratulated herself. Let him know it's all right without really coming out and making yourself seem like a whipped little puppy.
"Okay," Logan said soothingly. Max almost started to melt as Logan's voice washed over her, warming her, comforting her. No, don't be like that, a part of her raged. This was the voice she'd known all her life, the one that had constantly implored her, from early childhood, to avoid all displays of emotion. Emotions are a sign of weakness, it reminded her, curiously enough speaking with Lydecker's voice. Don't be that girl. Come on, Max, it's not like Logan was completely blameless here.
"I just want to say that when you said we had responsibilities . . . well, you were right," she continued, struggling to suppress the pride within that demanded a voice even as she fought to make certain that her emotions also didn't grab a hold and allow her to break down. She was walking a fine line and wasn't certain she had the requisite emotional control and experience in relationships to pull it off. "I didn't know then just how serious that was. I do now."
"I'm sorry I got so angry," Logan said to her. "I really didn't mean to hurt you. It's just that --"
"I know," Max assured him. "You don't need to say it. You wanted to keep me safe." And did you really need it? her pride asked her. Max was amazed that some part of her was still aching for a fight, especially when another part of her just wanted to smother Logan with affection. She redoubled her efforts to remain non-judgmental, to just let bygones be bygones. "I still don't think it was right for you to do what you did, though," she said, almost gasping as she realized that she was speaking despite her attempt to bite her tongue and take the high road. "I had a right to know."
"I thought we weren't gonna get into this again," Logan commented, his voice still even and unassuming. Max didn't know whether she wanted to kiss him for being so mature about the whole thing, or punch him in his holier-than-thou face.
"Sorry," Max apologized, deciding she should keep talking as she continued to debate the merits of her two alternatives. "I didn't mean it that way. I just . . . never mind."
"Okay," Logan replied, his lips spreading into a smile that ended Max's quandary, driving out her pride and fanning the flames of a sudden, disconcerting desire. The teakettle began to whistle, and for the briefest moment Max considered laughing at the appropriateness of the timing. Logan made a slight move to get the water, but Max quickly intercepted him, grabbing hold of him tightly, wrapping him in a hug that she hoped felt as good to him as it did to her. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze and instantly growing lost in his eyes. What are you doing? Lydecker's voice asked in a final, futile attempt at stoicism. This, she consciously answered, deciding that a demonstration was far preferable to further internal debate. She felt Logan lean into her, and she matched his movement, touching her lips lightly against his, tentatively wondering whether he was planning on giving her a quick peck on the lips, or whether he was feeling as passionate as she was. Disappointment welled up within her as she felt Logan start to pull away after an excruciatingly light touch, and Max resolved to take charge of the situation. She reached around to the back of Logan's head and grabbed him softly but firmly, drawing him in deeply, hoping to show him exactly how she still felt about him. She didn't over-analyze the moment, and she never stopped long enough to ask herself if her decision was really a good idea. For the first time in weeks she just let go and thrilled at the ecstasy of the experience.
Then she felt Logan's hands close on her shoulders and push her away, not strong enough to indicate revulsion but clearly demonstrating reluctance. "Max . . ." he began, even as she struggled to compose herself enough to cut him off, to try to get back to that blissful moment where all of her loneliness and confusion had given way to warmth and certainty.
"No, don't," she cut him off, once again moving in close, kissing him softly on the neck, trying to demonstrate that the time for talking had passed. Again he drew back, suspicion beginning to glow in his eyes. She could only guess at what was going through his head.
"Why?" Max asked curtly, taking a half-step back and looking him over, suddenly certain that for one reason or another her advances were unwelcome. Some other guys would be thanking their lucky stars right now, she thought, taking offense at his hesitance. No, this isn't the time to be listening to my pride, she reminded herself. There's too much at stake. I'm not making that mistake again. I'm not leaving here under a cloud this time. Better a mistake than a regret, she reminded herself, remembering McElroy's words.
"Max, it's just --"
"No," she interrupted. "Please don't say anything, Logan. I'm not trying to seduce you, if that's what you think. And I guess I shouldn't have been so forward. It's just. . . . I don't know." For the briefest of moments she wondered whether she should open up to him, whether she should bare her soul to a man she hadn't seen in what seemed like forever. But if not him, then who? she wondered. Why did you come here if you aren't gonna go through with this? "I just needed to feel close to someone, if that makes any sense," she explained, knowing as she spoke that she wasn't being completely open though she was comfortable enough with her degree of candor. "I've just felt so alone, and I've missed you so much. You know what I mean?" She was amazed that she'd been able to say what had been on her mind, but seconds seemed like hours as she waited for a response – any response – from the man she loved. Logan didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes made her confident that he understood completely. "Logan?" she asked, taking a cautious half-step forward, suddenly concerned that he was trying to come up with some way to tell her to leave. "Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah," he assured her. "My mind just wandered for a second there. I've got so much going on right now."
"I know what you mean," Max responded, taking another half-step forward, grabbing the front of Logan's shirt lightly as she pulled him into a looser, friendlier hug. She made certain to omit the passion of their previous embrace, hoping she could make him feel safe and comfortable without making him feel awkward. He hugged her back, smiling contentedly.
This is what I've been missing so badly, Max decided. She took a deep breath as she grinned, and actually felt her stomach bottom out as she detected something she hadn't expected. "Let me get the tea," Logan said as he pushed her away softly, his tone promising a return to their embrace as soon as his chore was done. "We can talk out in the living room." Max backed away slowly, aghast that he could be cruel enough to lead her on like that. You miserable bastard! she cursed, fighting the urge to knock Logan on his ass. "What?" he asked. "What is it?" Max felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes and knew that she would never be able to look herself in the mirror again if she broke down in front of Logan. She turned and bolted for the door, her only concern being to make it to the stairwell before he could see her cry. "Max!" she heard Logan call out loudly. "What is it?" She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. She wasn't able to look Logan in the eye and ask why Syl's scent was all over him.
To be continued………………………………