She threw off her jacket roughly and let it fall to the floor and walked into her room. She fell onto the bed and covered her head with her pillow. I just know he's going to look at me now and think "She's not a real person." I should've just kept my mouth shut about Manticore. He could've found the info if he wanted to - but... it was his eyes. Those damn eyes. They're... they're like that bastard machine at Manticore that just made you talk and talk and talk until you were sure your tongue was bleeding and ready to fall off and no one wanted to hear your pathetic whiny little voice anymore.
But nice.
* * *
Logan set his glasses on the coffee table and rubbed his eyes. What exactly happened tonight? I know Max told me pretty much everything about her past, about Manticore... and I know she was so close to me that I thought I'd die. Though I'm sure I'd die the happiest man on Earth. But... lost my train of thought there. Jesus, I must be tired.
From what Max has made clear about herself, it's obvious she isn't one to let people get close to her, so that makes me feel a little weird. For whatever reason, she chose to tell me. She could've told anyone, but it was me. That's never happened before. I usually end up being the last to know, but when it comes to her, I seem to always be the first. That may or may not be a good thing, considering Max herself. This is certainly a strange feeling for me.
But it's not so bad.
* * * * *
Something on your nose. Something on your nose. Something annoying on your nose.
Logan grunted and swatted whatever was on his nose away. Whatever it was, it was persistent. It went right back to its tricks, making him strike out again. It kept going, which effectively woke him up. He grumbled something, then grabbed the blurry object in front of him.
"Those are some reflexes you've got there."
Confused in his sluggish state, he looked up and saw that Max was standing over him and he was holding onto her wrist. He mumbled an apology and let go, then slowly sat up. He rubbed his eyes, slid on his glasses, and looked around. "This... isn't my room."
"You're a very perceptive man."
He turned to look out the window, then turned to Max. "What time is it?"
She glanced at her watch. "Uh... twelve thirty. Why?"
"I'm late." He said slowly.
Max gasped in an overly dramatic way. "Logan, I didn't get you pregnant, did I!?"
"No." He grumbled and stood up quickly. "I'm late for a meeting with an informant. I should've been there twenty minutes ago. If he's left I'll lose everything I've been working on. I've got to go."
Max held up a hand to stop him. "That pile of scrap metal you call a car will get you nowhere fast. You get ready and I'll be back in five minutes."
Before he could even nod, she was half way out of the room. He hesitated for a moment, then realized that when Max said five minutes, she meant five minutes.
* * * *
Logan shakily dismounted from Max's motorcycle, unsure if he had just been shaken or stirred. He looked at the vehicle and wondered how something that looked so small could be so fast. He looked at Max, who was grinning and getting off the bike herself, and realized that outward appearances often were misleading. He shook his head, trying to clear it a bit, then looked around.
"Where's this guy of yours?" Max asked, looking around herself.
"I don't know." He answered. "I just hope he didn't leave. He's not an easy man to get a hold of."
Max raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Only has trouble finding people? Please. You managed to locate some of the most discreet soldiers in the nation, all with one little computer and that great brain of yours. I find it hard to believe that this one guy would be so hard for you to find again."
"You haven't seen John yet." Logan smirked.
She would've asked him what that meant exactly, but by now she had realized that Logan's smirk would've just turned into a full blown grin and then he'd make that little chuckling sound that she'd grown to find endearing - instead of something that would drive her to the brink of insanity. She felt someone tap her on the shoulder and, startled, she grabbed the person's arm and flipped whoever it was over her shoulder then dropped into a fighting stance.
"Max!" Logan exclaimed. "Don't! That's John."
She relaxed, then looked from Logan to the man John. 'Woodsman' didn't even begin to describe him. His beard was way beyond bushy in the charming Santa Claus way; it was dirty and looked like it might have been host to a family of squirrels at one point or another. His clothes weren't much better, old rags that looked like they had seen both Bush men become President and hadn't seen a washer since. He wore a tattered blue baseball cap that didn't do a thing for him, except maybe keep the mice that Max guessed lived in his hair warm at night.
"Sorry." She said and helped the man up. "I just don't like being snuck up on."
"From your reaction, I take that it doesn't happen often." John replied and picked up a walking stick that she had failed to notice.
"You could say that my... upbringing taught me better." She replied, then added in a grunt, "Some upbringing."
John smiled at her, then turned to Logan. "So, you want to know about Lempkin's latest?"