A/N: Just gonna answer a few quick questions here. This is NOT a Max/OC slash fic. Sorry to disappoint anybody who was thinking it was. And as for Logan... the best answer I have for that one is to rewatch the S1 episodes in question. It's almost like playing "Where's Waldo?"...I had to do it to write this fic. :)

Chapter 4 - Seeing Red

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had started so simply. A basic question…

"Hey, you bombin' Crash tonight?" Original Cindy asked Max as they were leaving Jam Pony at the end of another long day.

…with an easy answer.

Max shrugged and shook her head. "Nah. I'm headed home. Bath night, so I'm gonna try to chill and maybe get a couple things done."

Original Cindy smiled and clapped Max on the shoulder, giving her a hard squeeze. "Fine, boo. Just keep that pretty nose of yours out of trouble, hear?"

Max laughed cheerfully. "I'll try. No guarantees, though." She raised her hand with a small wave as they reached the corner where they parted. "Later!"

"Later!" Cindy echoed, turning away. She took a few steps, and turned back. Max was already gone, disappearing like usual. She shook her head. "Girl moves so fast, you'd think she actually had somewhere real to go, rather than that roach motel she lives in to cook herself a bath."

Original Cindy arrived at her own roach motel and looked around, sighing. She hadn't done a whole lot of cleaning lately, and the place reflected it. Even though the apartment itself was basically a dump, it didn't have to look like it. She sighed, feeling immensely guilty for letting it get out of hand, and began to clean.

Once she got going, scrubbing down the apartment became almost enjoyable. It also made her lose track of the time. It was well after dark when she finished, flicking a rag over the few last spots on her refrigerator, pausing to straighten the picture of her and Max before she turned to look at her clock. Not too late to head to Crash, she thought, grabbing a jacket and heading out the door.

Original Cindy arrived to see most of the usual crew, sans Max. That didn't surprise her considering her friend's earlier comments. If Max could have her way, and unlimited hot water, bath night would last for days.

"Over here!"

OC rolled her eyes at Sketchy's shout from his seat at the bar, not exactly needing the direction to find him. She slowly waltzed over, and was mildly surprised to see the television there tuned into one of the news stations. "What the hell are you two drinkin' that you're stuck on that?"

"Shhh!!" Herbal Thought hissed loudly, waving at her to quiet down.

Original Cindy's eyes widened at his harsh tone. Herbal had never raised his voice to her before. "What's going on?" she asked Sketchy.

He, too, was fixated on the television. "They're recapping the first day hearing events."

Her eyebrows knit in confusion. "What hearing?"

Both Sketchy and Herbal turned to give her a quick look. "You don't remember? The Steckler hearing?" Herbal asked.

Cindy paled, thinking of poor Theo, and slowly took a seat on one of the bar stools. "I can't believe I forgot that was going down this week." She was silent for the few seconds it took the reporter to switch to commercial. "What's happened, so far?"

Sketchy took a small swig of beer. His usual chipper, and slightly manic, demeanor was now sullen and quiet. "Not much. Opening testimony, mostly. A few people involved in some of the earlier trials, from that whole Sonrisa thing Eyes Only blew open back when, have spoken. They're gonna go over what should happen tomorrow in a minute."

Original Cindy nodded and motioned to the bartender for a beer. She watched as the last commercial ended, and the reporter came back on.

The young reporter shuffled a few papers around on his desk, presumably to attempt to look more important, before continuing with his report. "Tomorrow's testimony will include that of a witness who was originally thought to be dead. 32-year-old Bruno Anselmo was presumed dead in a shoot out at Edgar Sonrisa's mansion last year that also ended up with the death of Sonrisa. Anselmo was also thought to be involved in this shocking event that was captured on hoverdrone."

The image on the screen switched to that of a hoverdrone viewpoint, high above the street. Cindy watched the familiar footage of two cars crashing into a third, blocking its escape on a Seattle highway. The occupants of all the cars began shooting before trying to either leave or escape their vehicles, depending on the viewpoint. She watched one man pull a woman out, who managed to run to safety. The man soon fell under a hail of gunfire. Another man pulled a young child out, and attempted to run with her, but he too was soon shot and fell, his body cradled around the young girl's as a last chance of protection. One of the men shooting at them rolled the man over to pull out the shrieking child…

Original Cindy knocked over her beer, barely hearing the concerned voices of Sketchy and Herbal Thought, instead totally focused on the face of the man.

Logan.

She had never connected the two before, the news image being just another news image, and Logan being just another man in Max's life. Cindy had only met him the one time in the bar, and hadn't seen him again until months later. By then, the news report had been forgotten, politeness had kept her from asking how Logan had ended up in the chair, and Max, being Max, never offered that information.

"I'm—I'm fine," Original Cindy barely managed to get out to her two concerned friends. "Just a little…startled."

"Your face is like that of a ghost's, my sista. Not your best color," Herbal joked, trying to cheer Original Cindy.

She shook her head, desperately hoping that some of the blood would return to her brain. "I've gotta jet," she said hurriedly, not even waiting for a response before quickly racing from the bar.

The night air was slightly damp, an eerie phantom of the seemingly ever present rain in Seattle. The sky, however, was fairly clear. So were Original Cindy's thoughts. Connections were being made that she had never thought of before, and she didn't like the path they were pointing down. The worst part of it all was that she had given herself the answer a while ago.

Like I didn't notice that all this stuff started about the time you and her met, she had told Logan one day.

Only, at the time, she had been referring to something completely different. This time…

Max had a strong penchant for trouble, she knew. But what she also knew was that the amount of trouble increased heavily around the time she met Logan. And maybe it wasn't Max who'd gotten caught in Logan's crossfire, but instead Logan who'd gotten caught in Max's.

Shortly after Logan had met her, he met Bruno Anselmo out on a street, and earned that fateful gunshot that took his ability to walk. Now Bruno was back from the dead.

And Original Cindy knew that meant Max was headed directly for trouble. It was only a matter of time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ring.

8:30 am. Reach a message, leave a number.

Ring.

8:45 am. Reach a message, leave a number.

Ring.

9:00 am. Reach Kendra…

"Ulgmwbwaa?"

"Kendra? You got Original Cindy here."

The crackling rustle of sheets sounded through the phone as Kendra apparently shifted to look at the clock. "Jesus, it's only 9. Why the fuck are you calling at this hour?"

Original Cindy blinked at Kendra's language. She wasn't usually this…verbose. "You have a hot date or something?"

"Me and Mr. Multiples set a new record. You didn't answer my question," Kendra replied sleepily.

"I'm looking for Max."

Kendra sighed. "You woke me for that? Hit her pager."

Cindy ran one hand through her thick tangle of curls. "I've done that. For about a half hour now. She ain't hit me back yet. I was wonderin' if she was still hangin' with the snooze."

"You want me to get out of bed and check."

"Yes."

Another sigh. "I was hoping you'd say, 'Gee, Kendra, I know you must be incredibly tired after your long night of immense pleasure, you don't have to do that. Just roll your gorgeous self back over and—'"

"Kendra?"

"Yeah."

"Go check." Original Cindy really liked Kendra, but sometimes the blonde could be…well, a blonde.

Kendra groaned as she pulled herself out of bed. "Hold on." Only a few seconds passed before she picked the phone back up. "She's not here."

Original Cindy pulled the phone away from her head briefly to stare at it in exasperation. "Look, girl, I know your pad isn't large on size, but it should still take you longer than that to get from your bedroom to hers."

"Her bike's gone," Kendra informed her, the squeak of Kendra's bedsprings coming in loudly through the phone.

Cindy rubbed her forehead, not believing that she was getting a headache this early in the day. "You mean her work bike?" she hoped out loud.

"Mm mmm. That black beast she uses to take up space in the living room," Kendra mumbled.

"Her motorcycle? It's gone?" Cindy asked, with no response other than Kendra's soft snoring. She hung up the phone in frustration, and then picked it up again.

Ring.

9:15. Reach a message, leave a number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's 10:45 am, and even you feckless bums have been working here for over an hour. Where is she?" Normal barked to Original Cindy and Sketchy, who were standing at the front desk.

Sketchy narrowed his eyes at Normal. "I resent being called feckless."

"Me too," Original Cindy agreed before asking, "What's it mean?"

"Where is Max?" Normal repeated slowly, enunciating each word.

Think quickly. "In the bathroom," she said.

Sketchy replied at the same time, "On a run."

Cindy didn't dare look at Sketchy for fear of smacking him.

Normal glared at both of them. "If she is not present and accounted for in the next fifteen minutes, she will be without employment. You tell her that for me."

Sketchy tried to redeem himself. "Normal, I swear I just saw her a minute ago."

That was the last straw for Normal. "Get out of my sight. Get out of my sight," he said, waving his hands at them before walking away.

"Do you have any idea where Max is?" Sketchy asked, almost as concerned as OC that their friend hadn't made an appearance yet that day and hadn't left word.

"None," Cindy replied truthfully. "But we gonna fix that," she informed him, knowing the one person other than her who would be most likely to have Max's location. As Sketchy left on a run, she picked up the phone and began dialing a number that she had never dialed before.

There were only two rings before there was an answer. "Hey," Logan greeted cheerfully.

"Hey," Cindy said.

There was a slight pause before Logan repeated with a surprised, "Hey."

That single word confirmed her suspicions. Even if he didn't know where Max was, at least he had been in contact with her. "You got Original Cindy here," she clarified.

"Oh. Hey."

She rolled her eyes at the other end of the line. Spare me from brainless men today. "We already did that," she said brusquely. "Do you know where Max is? I've been blowin' up her pager for two hours and she ain't hit me back, which is not her stilo."

"Max is okay," Logan responded.

OC blinked at the brush off. "That's not what I asked. Where is she?"

Logan didn't even hesitate before telling her, "She's doing something for me. She'll be back at work this afternoon."

Which still didn't answer her question at all. Original Cindy was quite surprised at the evasion. Sure, they had only talked a few times before, but he had always seemed quite straightforward. And Max, of course, had always spoken highly of him…when she wasn't bitching about him, that is. "If the man don't fire her ass first," she added, thinking about someone else's bitching from earlier.

Logan had a simple solution. "Well, tell him she had a medical emergency and she'll bring a note from her doctor."

That excuse was only about as original as Sketchy's run story. OC's curious streak went into action and she couldn't help but ask, "What you got her doin'?"

"It's a favor," was the short answer.

"A favor," she repeated. She was beginning to get a little pissed at all the games and evasions going on around her. "Look. You wanna be International Man of Mystery, that's your dealio. But you get my homegirl jammed up, I'm gonna beat on your ass, chair or no chair."

Logan's smile was audible as he tried to reassure her, "Trust me. Max is okay."

Original Cindy couldn't be reassured. By now, she was a master at worrying about Max, needlessly or not. "She better be. Later," she threatened, reaching to hang up the phone.

Normal did it for her. He stared at her intently as he said, "Hi. I couldn't help overhearing you use the M word. Did you inquire as to her whereabouts?"

How's this for an Original answer, you feckless bum. "She's at the doctor's. The good news is, they caught it before it turned into chronic multiple progressive brain dysfunction syndrome. She'll be in as soon as they're done testing her." She turned and walked away.

She chuckled as she heard Normal behind her saying, "Oh, for the love of Mike."

It was amazing that as much as she hated her job at Jam Pony, it was wonderfully distracting when she wanted it to be. Finish one run, return and get another one. Repeat if desired. She kept that up throughout the day into the afternoon until about an hour before the end of shift. Then, she returned to Jam Pony and waited…

…and waited.

She waited past shift, after everyone else had already left, just sitting on the benches between the lockers, staring at the door. She wasn't sure if she was a fool for believing Logan, or stupid for being obsessed with Max. Finally, Normal walked over to her and asked, "Are you alright?"

Cindy looked up at him, mildly surprised at the concern in his eyes. "Yeah, why?"

He sighed heavily in mock exasperation, and raised his arm in a deliberate motion to look at his watch. "Unless my time is seriously off, you're late."

"And that's strange how?" Cindy asked emotionlessly.

"You're on the wrong side of late, for a change." Normal hesitated before saying, "Look, you'd better get going. She's not going to show up."

Original Cindy narrowed her eyes at him, then relaxed as she saw he was doing nothing but stating what she was already thinking. "I guess you're right," she admitted, both to him and herself. She picked up her backpack and gave Normal one last look. "Thanks, Normal."

Normal pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. "Don't thank me, I'm just trying to get you out of here so I can turn off the lights, save electricity." He turned on one heel and walked away.

"Uh huh, right, Normal. I think it's the same reason you haven't fired Max, for all that she's been late. Somewhere, deep down, you like us," she murmured when he'd departed. She stood, and just as she was out the door, the lights went off behind her.

Original Cindy headed from Jam Pony straight to Crash, like most nights, intending to drink her troubles away. She vowed that, for one night, she wasn't going to be worried about Max. Who cared where she was? "Not Original Cindy, that's straight," she told herself as she reached the door to the dilapidated hangout. Then she laughed at herself. "Okay, so that's a bad choice of words."

As she stepped inside the doorway, she experienced a sense of déjà vu. Sketchy and Herbal Thought were both sitting in the same place at the bar, as they had been the night before. They were staring at a television, tuned to the same channel, watching the same news reporter, who was covering the same hearing. The news itself, however, was slightly different.

"Mayor Leopold Steckler is expected to be indicted on one hundred and forty-nine counts of murder," he began.

A loud cheer rose from the bar, with Sketchy and Herbal giving each other high fives in all sorts of convoluted ways.

"Shhh! He's not finished!" Original Cindy said, waiving at them.

"…was from Bruno Anselmo, who was felled by gunmen outside the municipal building only moments after his testimony," the reporter finished up.

"Remind me to buy that man a beer in the afterlife, right, Cindy?" Sketchy asked. Hearing no response, he turned. "Hey, where'd she go?" he asked Herbal Thought, who only shrugged.

Original Cindy hadn't heard him, since she was already halfway out the main door of Crash to find a pay phone that would be more private than the one inside. Privacy was very important right now; she didn't know what she was going to hear, and, most importantly, she didn't know what she was going to say.

"Max, what are you doing to me?" she asked herself. "Disappearing, reappearing, doing God only knows what…" She reached the payphone, and began digging around in her purse for coins. Finding just enough for one call, she quickly dumped them in the slot, and dialed Max's pager.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"I'm sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please hang up, check your number, and try again," a tinny voice said.

Déjà vu.

Original Cindy slammed the phone back on the hook. "Sure took you long enough this time, boo. Last time, you had it off in seconds. You musta been mighty busy." She jammed one finger in the coin return, chipping a nail in the process but not noticing. She retrieved her coins that the phone had thankfully spit back out. A blessed rarity, since it seemed that even the phones were out to rob people these days. She dropped the coins back in, and dialed a second number.

"Hello?" Logan answered after a couple of rings.

Cindy took one deep breath before stiffly saying, "She didn't come back today."

There was a long pause on the other end, before he said, "Cindy."

No Original. It didn't go unnoticed. "She didn't come back today," she repeated, enunciating each word to a sharp clip.

Another long pause. "I know."

OC waited, but when further clarification was not forthcoming, she began to get pissed. "I know? That's all you're going to say?"

"Cindy, I—" Logan cut himself off, and she could hear him cover the phone. She could make out a slight murmur before he got back on and quietly said, "She's here."

Original Cindy blinked. And blinked again. "And when were you going to let me in on this clue?" she asked softly. Dangerously.

A pause. "She wants to talk to you." He didn't give her any chance to respond before he passed off the phone.

"Hey," came Max's tired voice.

OC closed her eyes in relief. Then she snapped them open, heading back towards pissed. "Where the hell have you been? I've been blowing up your pager all day."

"I—"

"And, in case you didn't know, your number's shut off. Again."

"I know."

Cindy mulled that response over in her head before continuing. "So…you okay?"

A pause. "Yeah."

"Okay, I love you, boo, but I'm getting a little sick of this pause/talk game you and your boy seem to be wantin' to play tonight. I'm not asking you – either of you – any heavy questions, so I'm not in need of no heavy answers. Just talk, k?" Original Cindy pleaded.

Max sighed, an almost desolate sound. "I'm sorry, I'm just…tired, is all. Look, I'm gonna crash here tonight. See ya tomorrow at work?"

Original Cindy blew out a frustrated sound, but finally conceded the conversation. "Yeah, see ya tomorrow, boo. Put your boy on for me after you go."

"Okay," Max said, a small clink coming through the line as she set the phone down.

OC's brows almost hit her hairline. Didn't argue the "your boy" label. Either time. And whose vote is on "all is well in Max's world"? As soon as she heard the phone being picked up, she began talking, desperate to rid her mind of the one thought that had been doggin' her since the newscast. "Logan, I need you to be real with me, please. Did your little 'errand' have anything to do with Bruno Anselmo?" Upon hearing his sharp intake of breath, she rushed, "Did…did she kill him?"

Logan let out the breath he had obviously held. "No," he said definitively. "She didn't."

Original Cindy's eyes drifted close in relief. "Okay. I…okay. We'll leave the rest for another day. You watch over my girl, hear?"

Logan chuckled softly. "Yeah, I hear. I'd better get going."

"Yeah, me too," she agreed. "I'm in an alley outside of Crash, and although it's pretty upscale as alleys go, it ain't no five star resort, if you catch my meaning."

"I got it. Take care of yourself, Cindy."

"You too, Logan. Late." She hung up the phone, and set off towards home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Original Cindy wandered into Jam Pony early the next morning. Not so early that she'd be on time, of course, but earlier than her usual appearances. Her goal for the day was to not strangle Max. Although, as she walked by Normal who was shaking his head and "bipping" loudly, she decided that the goal could be amended for other people as well.

She made her way through the throng of bike messengers rushing around and moved back towards the lockers. She was somewhat startled to see Max there, although she must not have been there long. She was sitting with her back towards the entryway, slowly packing her backpack with the morning runs.

Rather than waiting for Max to notice her, OC decided to just make her presence known the same way she usually did. She walked up behind her and said cheerfully, "Mornin', boo!" clapping one hand on Max's shoulder.

"Ahhhh!" Max cried out in pain, hissing as Original Cindy quickly jerked her hand back. Max turned and looked up.

"Jesus Christ," Cindy breathed as she took in Max's appearance. The young woman's perfect skin was marred by bruises across a pale cheekbone, and her split bottom lip was bleeding slightly, probably broken open by Max's cry. Original Cindy didn't say another word, just grabbed Max gently by the elbow and motioned her to stand.

Max shook her head. "OC…"

"Don't OC me. I'll pick you up if I have to," Original Cindy snapped.

Max blinked, taken aback. She nodded and stood.

Original Cindy picked up Max's backpack, and began leading her towards the front doorway. "Did you ride your bicycle?"

"Well, actually—"

"You'll just have to leave it here. It'll be easier to keep an eye on you if I can keep hold of you." She looked at Normal as they passed by the front desk. "Personal day," she informed him, throwing the backpack on the counter. "Give that to Sketchy and give him the 411."

"On what?" Normal asked loudly. "She can walk in here, she can work. Hey. Hey!!" he called after them in vain.

"Where are we going?" Max asked, as Original Cindy whisked her out the door, never letting go of her arm.

"My place," she replied. "Can you walk that far?"

"Of course I can," Max scoffed. "It's not that far away. Original…"

"We'll chat when we get there. Just keep walking," Original Cindy commanded, relieved to see Max roll her eyes and keep her eyes on the road ahead.

The walk was blessedly short, in Original Cindy's opinion, at least. It was all she could do to keep herself quiet until they got there. She unlocked her front door and steered Max inside and towards the couch. "You sit there while I get you a glass of milk. You lookin' a little shaky."

"I'm not—" Max protested weakly.

"Look at your hands, Max," Original Cindy directed softly before turning to go in the kitchen.

Max looked down at her hands. They were trembling. She gingerly sat down on the couch, as though her knees were seconds from buckling.

Cindy held onto the refrigerator door for a few long seconds before opening it, briefly glancing at the picture of her and Max before ignoring it in favor of the milk. How could we ever have been happy like that? she asked herself as she looked for a glass. She quickly found one that was clean, and filled it. She walked back out into the living room, and handed the glass to Max. "Drink."

Original Cindy continued her path, heading into the bathroom and retrieving a first aid kit. She came back to see that Max had already drank nearly the whole glass, and now seemed more composed. Cindy took a seat behind Max, and indicated that Max should turn away from her.

Max sat the glass down with a thump. "Look, it's nice of you to get me the day off and everything, but—"

"Did you hear me say you could talk yet? If so, you hearin' things, 'cuz I didn't drop you no line of the sort." Original Cindy raised one slim eyebrow as Max narrowed her eyes, but obeyed and turned around. "Take off your jacket, please," she said.

Max complied, revealing a long sleeve shirt underneath.

Original Cindy braced herself, and then told her, "Lift your arms."

Max turned her head towards her shoulder, a puzzled look in her eyes.

"Up over your head, sugah. That's a good girl," she praised after Max followed her directions. Just like Mama used to tell Original Cindy, back when she was plain ol' little Cynthia, Original Cindy thought. And just like her mother had done when she was younger, she gently grasped the edge of Max's shirt, and slowly pulled it up and over Max's head, leaving it in Max's hands, and then glancing down to see what was there.

Max's thin back was spotted with angry purple bruises, small cuts, and what even looked like burn marks. Her entire right shoulder blade was covered with a large sterile bandage that was most likely once a crisp white color. Now it had places the color of rust, with bright scarlet spots the color of fresh blood coming through.

As Max felt Original Cindy's fingers at the corner of the bandage, she softly blurted out, "It's the worst. The others aren't bad, the bruises really started coming out this morning and…" Max dropped her chin to her chest and was quiet once more.

Original Cindy gently pulled at the tape, being as careful as possible not to pull at Max's skin. Underneath, she revealed a giant…she wasn't quite sure what it was. Part burn, part scrape, mostly scabby mess. She could see where one part of the scabbed area had cracked and lifted and was slowly oozing blood. It looked extremely painful, but Max had obviously been tolerating it. At least until Original Cindy had come along and squeezed it.

She closed her eyes, hating to think that she had caused her best friend any more pain than she already had. She got a bottle of peroxide out of the first aid kit and dabbed some cotton balls with it. "This is probably gonna sting a bit," she warned Max.

Max laughed. "Thanks for the warning," she replied dryly. "More than I got last night when—" She stopped.

Original Cindy paused right as she was about to swab the wound. When Logan patched me up, she finished. That son of a bitch. He knew. OC gave no indication of hearing the pause and began to disinfect the area. Max made no sound, no indications of pain or discomfort other than occasionally pulling away from Cindy's gentle ministrations. When she was finished, she gently taped the area with a fresh bandage and stood, going to throw the old bandage away. She returned, walking around the front of the couch just as Max was putting the shirt back on, quickly covering another series of bruises across her ribcage.

Max looked up at Original Cindy, her dark eyes swirling with emotion, but quickly going blank. Hidden. "Are you going to say something?"

Original Cindy shrugged her shoulders, doing a damn good job of hiding her own emotions. "Not sure what to say, boo, other than you look like you hit yourself with a truck. Not the best look for you."

Max tried a tentative smile, but it quickly fell away as the split in her lip pulled a bit. "I heard it was all the rage this season. Thought I'd try it."

Original Cindy sat in front of her, and looked deep into her eyes, reaching one hand up to gently caress the unbruised side of her face. "What I think is…" she hesitated. She wanted to spill her guts, reveal every thought, but some part of her mind held her back. Somehow, this didn't feel right, not now, at least. "I think you need to get some rest," she finished. Why do I keep holding back?

Max blinked, apparently wondering the same thing. She turned and looked at the sunlight streaming through a window. "It's still daylight. Very daylight, as a matter of fact."

Original Cindy smiled, but the smile didn't quite meet her eyes. "I know. But you look beat, boo. Figuratively, I mean, not just literally. Just lie down for a while."

Max looked longingly at the couch, her aching body begging for release. "Yeah," she agreed tiredly. "Maybe just for a little while."

Cindy grabbed a blanket off a nearby chair and draped it over Max after she had stretched out. "No disappearing, either, k? We got some talking to do."

Max nodded slowly, closed her eyes, and within a few seconds, was fast asleep.

Original Cindy only watched her for a couple of minutes, before moving away from Max's side to grab a jacket, and tiptoe out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Original Cindy stood on the sidewalk outside of Logan's apartment building looking up. She had known that Logan was rich, but…Jesus. This was like preparing to go make an appearance for royalty or something, except that she wouldn't be able to do what she was going to do, to royalty. She took a deep breath and entered the front hallway of the building.

Did I just go through a time warp or something? Original Cindy couldn't help but thinking as she gazed around the lobby. It seemed untouched by time, with all the bright woods and soft music playing. Fresh flowers were set in large vases on either end of the main desk, which was staffed by a young, smiling woman in a crisp suit. The woman's smile became even broader as Original Cindy approached the desk.

"Hello!" the woman greeted cheerfully. "How can I help you today?"

"Uh… I'm here to see Logan Cale. Can you tell me which pad is his?" Original Cindy asked tentatively.

"What's your name, please?"

"Name?" OC repeated.

"I need to see if you're on his guest list," the woman responded.

"Oh." Shit, Original Cindy thought. Here to beat the man's ass, and stopped by a clerk. There ain't no way my name's on that list. I've only met the man twice. "Original Cindy." She rolled her eyes as the clerk actually scanned the list for that name.

"I'm sorry, I don't see that here. Is that your full name?" the clerk questioned.

Original Cindy sighed. "That ain't gonna be on there either, but you can sure use your pretty eyes to look for it. Cynthia McEachin."

"Ah. Right here," the woman said after only a few seconds. She looked up at Cindy and grinned, batting her eyelashes slightly before she handed her a pass card. "Do you know where to go?"

Original Cindy shook her head, a little stunned.

"I'll show her where, dear," a voice from behind said.

Original Cindy turned and saw an older, grey haired woman gripping a cane in one hand and waving at her with the other. OC smiled at the desk clerk, and turned to the other woman. "Thank you…"

"Mrs. Moreno. And it's no trouble. I'm headed that way myself." Mrs. Moreno gently took Original Cindy's arm, leaning some of her weight on it, and began shuffling the two of them down a corridor. "Are you a friend of Logan's, Cynthia?"

"No, ma'am. I'm a friend of a friend of his. And you can call me Original Cindy," Original Cindy replied, immediately liking this woman.

"Okay, you must be a friend of Max's then, Ms. Original," Mrs. Moreno declared.

Original Cindy blinked owlishly, both at the woman's assumption and her new name. "Yes, I am. You know Max?"

Mrs. Moreno laughed. "Of course, dear. Max brings me groceries sometimes. She can't shop worth a damn, but it's always so sweet of her. She's got the loveliest smile."

"She does," OC agreed. She couldn't believe that Max was spontaneously shopping for groceries for a senior citizen. Punk-ass Max. She could see they were approaching the bank of elevators, but asked anyway, "I guess you know Logan, too?"

"Yes, I do, dearie. Such a…lonely young man…especially since his unfortunate accident. But it's so nice that he's got a friend like Max to watch out for him. And now you, too. Oh, here we are! I don't know why the designers put the elevators all the way in back like this, but they did." Mrs. Moreno stopped in front of the three elevators before them, and pointed to the one on the left. "You take that one up to the penthouse, Ms. Original, and give his door a good knock. Tell him I said hello. And you stop back and visit me sometime."

"Yes, ma'am. I definitely will," she replied, meaning it. "Where do you live?"

"The penthouse." She laughed at Original Cindy's confused look, and pressed the button for the one in the center. "Take a good look at the building when you leave. You'll see that the designers decided to stack another apartment at the very top. That one's mine – center. Logan has left wing," Mrs. Moreno explained. "Although, I end up at his some days when my mind wanders and I take the wrong elevator. Have a nice day!" she said as the elevator door opened, and she left.

Original Cindy shook her head slightly, hitting the proper button. Inside, she swiped the card for the security release and poked the button labeled "PH". "Looks like Original Cindy's gettin' high today," she laughingly said to the empty elevator. "Herbal Thought would be proud."

The elevator swiftly and smoothly ascended to the top floor, and lightly dinged upon arrival. Original Cindy stepped out and was faced with a solid wood door. Part of her wanted to turn and leave. Another part of her still wanted to kick Logan's ass. Max's injuries flashed through her mind, and she decided to go with kicking Logan's ass. She knocked loudly, and waited. She was ready to knock again when the door suddenly opened in front of her.

"You're earlier than I thought you'd be," Logan said, looking up at her. "Come on in." He turned and moved back into the apartment. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Uh…yeah," she replied. "Thanks." This was going strangely already. "Whatever ya got."

"Go ahead and take a seat in the living room while I get it." He disappeared into the kitchen.

Uncomfortably, Original Cindy slowly walked through the apartment towards the living room, trying not to gape as she walked by all the expensive artwork on the walls. She reached the living room, and took a seat on a couch that probably on its own cost more than she made in a year at Jam Pony.

Logan soon came wheeling in with two glasses. He set those on the glass coffee table, left the room, and came back with a small bottle. He poured her about two fingers of the amber liquid, and filled the second glass for himself. As he set the bottle down, he asked, "If you're going to beat me up, would you mind not getting any blood on the floor? It's hell to get out of wood."

Original Cindy snorted. "Sugah, I should be smearing your ass around this villa on the clouds of yours, but I think I'm gonna stop to down this nectar you so graciously poured." She glared at Logan over the rim of her glass when he chuckled. "What did you mean when you said I was early?"

Logan sighed and took a sip from his own glass, enjoying the burn the scotch gave. "I'd honestly thought Max'd avoid you a little while, at least until she healed some."

"She showed at JP today, thinkin' she would deliver a few packages. Soon as I saw her face, I dragged her down to my digs, dumped her ass there for a nap," Original Cindy informed him, setting her glass down and leaning back on the couch, intending to be as comfortable as she could be. "Personally, I'm wondering why she didn't just hang her hat in the lap of luxury for a while."

"How's she doing?" Logan asked, ignoring Cindy's last statement.

"Fine, I guess. 'Cept I tore open her shoulder again. Homegirl hides a bit too much sometimes, if you catch my drift."

Logan didn't say anything, just took another sip of his scotch, his gaze not on Original Cindy, but somewhere far from the room.

Original Cindy leaned forward, placed her elbows on her knees, and gave him a level stare. "I should whoop you one for all she got yesterday."

"Did she tell you what happened?" Logan asked, still not quite meeting Original Cindy's eyes.

"Of course not. That's not the game Max plays. And I bet you're not gonna fill me in, either," she guessed.

"No."

"S'what I thought. So I think we're a little stuck here."

"Stuck? What happened to beating on my ass?" Logan inquired, honestly curious.

"If I thought for one second it would take away any of that pain she holds in, you'd already be a ridin' black and blue mark." Original Cindy sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds, massaging her temples with her manicured fingers.

"So…if I don't sound rude asking…why'd you come here then?"

Original Cindy opened her eyes. "What is this, Twenty Questions?" She stood, and walked over to the windows, looking out at the clouds that were rolling in. A lonely view for a lonely man. "It's gonna rain soon, and not just today," she murmured.

Still facing the window, she finally let everything out. "I don't really know why I came here. Lookin' for an answer that I knew I wasn't gonna find. 'Cuz I don't think you got it either. Max is a living flame and we're just moths in her world. We're drawn to her beauty, and power, and energy, but we forget that she's dangerous." She glanced over her shoulder. "And some of us get burned."

Logan gave his wheels several slow pushes until he was right next to her. "I didn't 'get burned' because of her."

Original Cindy turned around and leaned against the window, looking at him. "I know you didn't. It wasn't her face I saw with yours on a TV last night. The funny thing is, I don't think she's dangerous to anybody but her own damn self. She tries to fight the fire with the fire, and only ends up makin' it all worse."

"I know," Logan agreed. "She worries me sometimes. Like yesterday. What happened…" He hesitated, then continued. "She's headed straight towards the inferno, Cindy."

"I know. I think she knows, too. She's felt it for a while I think. One of these days it's gonna blow up in her face, and I'm worried that all I'll have left is a picture on my fridge."

"Picture?"

"Only one I got. One rare moment when the world left her alone and Max decided to be Max. Only one I'm gonna get, too," she said softly.

Logan glanced at her curiously. "Why do you say that?"

Original Cindy sighed and walked away from the window. "Because the next time will be when Max tells me the truth behind the mystery. And that one ain't gonna be no easy journey. You just keep your pretty green eyes on her for me, hear? Don't always send her on these 'man of mystery' adventure missions. Take her somewhere nice for a change." She walked over to the coffee table and quickly tossed back the remaining contents of her glass. "I gotta bounce. Thanks for bein' an ear. Or two."

Logan smiled and guided her to the door. "You're welcome here anytime, Cindy, even when you don't want to kick my ass."

"I figured that, boo, otherwise my name – which is 'Original Cindy', by the way – wouldn't be on that hallowed decree of yours downstairs. Speaking of which, how did you know my name?" she asked, remembering the clerk's words.

Logan shrugged. "Max talks about you a lot. You're a good friend to her."

She smiled. "So are you. She's lucky to have friends like us – and Mrs. Moreno."

"Mrs. Moreno?"

"Your neighbor of sorts, I take it. She said to tell you hey."

Logan grinned, obviously imagining what sort of conversation could possibly have taken place between the two women. "Take care, Original Cindy."

"You, too, Logan," she replied, and closed the door behind her.

It took her a while to get back to her apartment, and by that time the rain had begun. She walked in the door, half chilled and soaked straight through to the skin.

Max stood when she walked in the door. "Where the hell have you been? And look at you. You're all wet!"

Original Cindy smiled. "I been at your boy's castle. And 'course I'm wet. Happens in the rain. Have a good nap?"

Max glared at her. "I woke up a half hour ago and you were gone. And he's not my boy."

She's back, Original Cindy thought, suppressing a grin. "'Course he ain't. That's why he was swoonin' over you the whole time I was there?"

"OC!" Max hissed, a scarlet flush racing up her cheeks.

Original Cindy laughed. "That got some color back in your skin, boo. And careful what you say. That lip of yours might split open again."

Max shot daggers at OC with her eyes and plunked back down on the couch. "So I guess the two of you talked. What'd he say?"

Original Cindy took a seat next to Max. "That's between him and me."

"Our turn now, then?" Max asked warily.

"Nope," Original Cindy answered, shaking her head.

"Nope? That's it? Why not?"

Original Cindy carefully wrapped one arm around Max's shoulder and leaned the two of them back. "Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday? Whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help Jah?"

Max hesitated. "No," she answered honestly. "I can't. I—"

"I don't want no excuse. That's okay. There'll come a day when you and me will be sittin' somewhere and the fog will lift. And you know what'll be left?"

"What?"

Original Cindy smiled. "You and me. And that's enough."

Max looked at her, eyes moist, but bright. "Someday," she echoed.

"Just tell me one thing, Max," Original Cindy said. "Whatever happened…was it worth it?"

Max nodded. "Yes. It was."

"Okay then. That's all I needed to know." Original Cindy moved her arm out from behind Max and reached for the remote control on her coffee table. "For now, I'll just find us a romance flick and give you some pointers for you and Logan's love life."

"OC!" Max hissed again.

"I told you, watch that lip." Cindy turned to give Max the most innocent look she could manage while trying not to laugh. "Anyway, there ain't nothing different between a guy and a girl as there is between two girls." She let the laugh out as Max groaned and closed her eyes. "No important difference, at least."

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Chapter 5 - Still Life

Coming August 30