Reaching for The Moon by ThePeking Noodle

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Chapter Thirty-Eight: Details,Details

Much to his dismay our hero realizes that he is in dire need of our heroine's unique talents…

The trip up to the penthouse in the elevator was more subdued than Logan would have preferred. Once the doors closed he started to pull Max to him, but she stepped back out of his reach.

"Logan, I need to shower and get this makeup off my face and spray out of my hair," she put him off.  He gave her a thoughtful look but refrained from comment. She definitely had a point. He could tell there was more to it than that, but he decided that he had time enough to figure out what was bothering her once he had her in his bed with him.

Max headed straight for her room and her shower when he opened the door to the penthouse, and Logan watched her go silently. He still had some work to do on the Eyes Only hack for the gun running ring so he headed into his computer room to work on that while he waited.  He quickly became immersed in the hack and didn't even notice as time passed.  It was when he pulled up a file he needed to finish the hack that he realized there was still a critical unanswered question.  Max and her attire, or lack thereof, had distracted him. Result being that he hadn't realized that his documentation was missing a crucial piece of information.

Sergei had told him that the goods had been cleared by customs. That meant that somewhere a significant sum of money had changed hands. No customs inspector was going to pass crates of weapons out of the goodness of his heart.  Logan had expected to see a sign off name on his manifests and the signature space was indeed filled in. But the name was an unreadable scrawl.  Without the crooked customs inspector, taking down the gunrunners was only half of the job. He swore to himself as he realized that he would need to get the information quickly.  Once word got out about the deaths of two of the players, and the arrest of the third, the inspector would cover his tracks.

Logan was still muttering to himself as he hacked into to the Customs files for the Acme Warehouse and vainly searched for what he needed. As he had half expected it wasn't there. The only option was a physical search of the premises.  And it had to be done that night.  "Dammit," he exclaimed to himself.

"Dammit, what?" Max asked.  He looked up to see her standing there freshly scrubbed, wearing a pair of loose sweats and T-shirt.  Not what he had expected her to don but he dismissed that thought. His hormones had caused enough trouble for the night. He didn't need more.

"Can you read this name?" he handed her the manifests.

Max peered at it closely and laughed. "No way. Are you sure it is a name? Why do you care anyway?"

"I need the name of the customs inspector who cleared the shipments. If I don't get him he'll just find new players and the gun running will keep on going. By tomorrow the word will be out about what went down tonight, and I'll never find him. That leaves tonight to figure out how to get into that warehouse and  do a physical records search.  None of the usual operatives I use for that kind of work are available. So it looks like this whole thing was a waste of time."

Max smiled smugly as she looked at Logan.

"What?" he said. She didn't answer and the light dawned on him. "No. No way are you going in there."

"Logan you don't have much choice. I'm available and I was made for this. Literally.  Of course I'm not so sure I want to do it. You'd have to ask me very, very nicely."

"I'll find someone." Logan turned and began working to contact his operatives. Maybe someone would be around.

 Max shrugged. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. I'm hungry. Kickin' ass works up an appetite."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Half an hour later Logan pushed his chair back. No one was available to do the job. He looked at his watch and estimated that they had about 3 hours left to get it done. With a grimace he rose and headed to the kitchen.

"Hey, Logan. Got your job all set?" Max asked breezily.

"No." he answered shortly as he sat down next to her.

She pushed over the plate of cheese and crackers that she was nibbling on. "Want some?" she asked sweetly.

Logan stared at her. Finally he cleared his throat. "Max, tell me exactly what you mean when you say you were made for this?"

"I was trained from the time I was four years old in all aspects of undercover operations. I can get in and out of a place without being seen. I know electronic surveillance and weaponry. There aren't many locks I can't open in less than two minutes and I can disable a complicated alarm system in less than ten minutes. You already

know how fast and strong I am, and about my enhanced vision and hearing. Basically I was made and trained to get in and out of sophisticated military installations. Your bonded warehouse with civilian security isn't even a challenge to me."

"Get ready. We only have three hours to do this, and it'll take twenty minutes to drive there."

Max made no move to rise. Instead she stretched and yawned. "I was about to hit the sack, Logan. A girl needs her beauty sleep."

"Max."

"Yes, Logan?" she said sweetly.

"Max. Please. I need you to do this for me. If you don't, three months of work goes down the tubes." Logan gritted out his request.

Max smiled, "Since you put it so nicely, I suppose I can help. Just this one time. Wouldn't want to make a habit of it though." She rose and headed toward her room. "Just let me get changed. Can't do a B&E dressed like this."

"Five minutes, Max."

"Don't push it." Her door closed with a snap behind her.

Logan picked up his cell and made a call.  Despite Max's confidence he decided a diversion wouldn't hurt.

Max came out of her room six minutes later by Logan's watch.  He refrained from mentioning it as he pulled on his leather jacket.  They headed into the elevator, and that was when Logan took his first hard look at what she was wearing.

Max had donned a skintight black cat suit. Every curve of her body was revealed clearly in it. Over it she wore a quilted vest that was every bit as tight as the suit. She had a pair of black rubber soled boots on her feet, and black leather gloves covered her hands.  Even though she was covered from her neck to her toes, without an inch of skin showing, Logan thought he had never seen anything so sexy in his entire life.  He took a breath.

"Isn't that sort of…tight? I mean if you have to move fast?" he managed to get out.

Max smiled smugly, well aware of her effect on him. "Spandex, Logan. Like a second skin. Safer than excess material that might catch on something when I'm hanging from a rafter or climbing a fence."

She had lost Logan at the words "second skin".  "Oh right," he mumbled not sure of what else she had said.

"Logan?"

"Yeah?" His rebellious mind was thinking about peeling Max out of that second "skin" when the job was done.  First her outfit at the club and now this.  It was definitely more than a man could stand without taking action. Not if he was to maintain his self respect, not to mention sanity.

"We're at the garage, are you getting out?"

He looked up, surprised to see the elevator doors standing open in front of him. When had that happened? Gathering his wits, or at least what was left of them, around him, he headed to his car. When he reached the empty space he stood there nonplused. He really needed to replace the car already.

The vroom of Max's motorcycle broke into his thoughts. "Are we leaving?" she laughed at him."Climb on."

Logan climbed on behind her. As he wrapped his arms around her waist and the motorcycle began to move, his only thought was that this was going to be a long ride, given his present state of body and mind.

End of Chapter Thirty-Eight…TBC…