Disclaimer:  Must I go through this every time?

AN:  Just wanted to say thank you to all of you who have been reading and reviewing.  I'm glad to see that you like the story so far.  I hate to be a party-pooper but I won't be updating until at least Dec 14—blame it on FINALS week.  So…read this chapter, enjoy it, and if the mood strikes you leave me a note on how you want to see the story progress.

Chapter Three

            Max entered the apartment quietly, and moved towards the faint light of the office.  She remained silent for a few minutes just watching him stare at the screen in front of him.  She opened her mouth to begin her usual arrival announcement, "Kn—"

            "Hey Max," Logan interrupted her quietly, without looking away from the screen.  How does she know when I need her to come around?  It's like she's got this sixth sense that says, 'Logan's feeling sorry for himself you better kick his ass.'  Hell, knowing Manticore, she probably is a partial empath. 

            Max looked at the screen from where she stood, trying to make out the words.  Budd Chiari Syndrome.  "Whatcha doin'?"  She asked pushing away from the door and moving to stand behind him.

            "Um, nothing," Logan stammered as he flicked off the screen.

            "Logan," Max sighed sadly as she flipped the screen back on.  "Medical research?  Who's sick?"

            "A friend, nothing for you to worry about," Logan said as he began picking up folders and papers, clearing away the clutter on his desk. 

            "Logan, I know."

            "You know?  Know what?"  Avoidance is good, Logan thought as he methodically alphabetized the items he had gathered.  Avoidance means you're neither denying nor admitting.  Unfortunately for you, though, she's pretty damn good at the whole escape and evade concept, too. 

            "That you're sick," Max said softly.  "I saw the file on the desk this morning.  I thought it was Eyes Only stuff, so I read it."  Seeing Logan's stoic stature beginning to falter, she pounces.  "Why didn't you tell me?"

            Giving up on the pretence of avoidance, Logan turns his chair around to face her but is unable to meet her eyes.  "I didn't want you to know."

            "That wasn't for you to decide," Max begins as she reaches out to touch his shoulder.

            "Oh really?" Logan icily questioned.  If avoidance doesn't work, you can always shift to anger.  And me, I've got years of pent up anger just aching to be released.

            "Yeah, I thought we were," Max trailed off searching for the right word to define her relationship with Logan, "friends."

            Better be careful Max, you might just lose part of that nonchalant attitude you've built up so well.  More annoyed at himself for leaving his medical folder out on his desk, he tried to play the self-sacrificing good soul who protected the innocent.  "Would you have left if you had known I was dying?  I didn't want to keep you here."

            "But it's my decision Logan.  I stay because I want to stay."

            "I don't want you getting killed because of me," Logan reasoned finally meeting her eyes.

            "Not everything is about you Logan!" Max exclaimed.  Closing her eyes briefly she continued in a softer voice, "I don't stay just for you.  I have other friends here.  But the main reason I stay is for me.  This is where my friends are, my home is here.  I feel safe here and for the first time in my life…loved.  You should have told me."

            "Well, now you know.  Eyes Only is dying," he bit out bitterly.

            "I refuse to accept that."

            "Max—"

            "No, you won't die on me.  We'll find better doctors."

            "It won't—"

            "Japan or Europe maybe.  They can find a way to use my—"

            "Max!"  Logan yelled, finally getting her to halt her tirade.  "It won't help, it's too late for that now.  There is no cure for this, and now I have side effects."  He paused a moment gathering his thoughts before continuing, "I'm having surgery on Thursday morning—liver surgery to open up a blocked artery."

            "Well, that'll help, right?"

            "I don't know.  Sam isn't very hopeful."

            "I'll be there for you."

            "No Max."

            Foreseeing a round of tug of war, Max moved to squelch the debate before it took place.  "Look, I can keep on doing this for hours.  I think the past few months have proven just how stubborn I can be.  Face it, I'm there when you have the surgery whether you like or not."

"Max, it's a five-hour surgery," he tried to reason, but it came out more like a whine.  What are you doing Logan?  You used to be able to win these things.

"So, you'll leave me some Eyes Only files to look at or something," Max retorted.  She knew she had broken him. 

After a brief minute, Logan admits his defeat.  "Do you want some dinner?"

"Are you going to let me come?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to tell me about this illness?"

"It's complicated, Max."  Logan replied as he led the way to the kitchen trying to think of something quick to make. 

Stepping in front of his path, she knelt down in front of him.  "Where am I going?"

"After dinner."
"Promise?"

"I promise," he sighed and she slowly moved from her position in front of him.
"So what are you going to feed me tonight?"