This isn't my favorite game. He thought and made his way to the kitchen. She wasn't there. That only left the living room and the computer room. She wasn't in the living room when he checked, so he braced himself when he opened the door to the computer room.
He could see her form in the dark and half considered not turning the light on. He did anyway. She was sitting in the computer chair with perfect posture. Her face held no expression, but her eyes said plainly, 'Logan, I am ever so mad at you.' Neither spoke for some time.
"Hello, Logan." Her tone was flat when she finally spoke.
"Hello, Max." He tried to match her tone, but found it impossible. It must be something she's perfected over time.
"You know, the address you wrote down on the notepad was... wrong." She said, her eyes quickly flitting to the notepad in question, then back to him.
"Oh?" He tried to act confused and surprised.
"Oh, yes." She said. "It's a warehouse in the industrial district. You'll not be shocked to learn that there was no shooting there."
"Oh?"
"Yes, oh." She continued. "Imagine, you writing down the wrong address. Funny how that happened, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes. Very funny indeed."
"And, you know, it's also funny how you must've then called Matt to double check the address and found you were wrong." She went on. "And then even funnier how you didn't think to page me and let me know."
"Yeah, things do work out in the strangest ways, don't they?" He tried to smile, but found her lack of emotion scary and couldn't.
She sighed and her demeanor became her usual 'I'm unhappy with you specifically, Logan.' "You know, if you didn't think you could trust me, you could've just said something to me. I would've held back."
"Whoa, when did this become about trust?" He replied defensively. "Max, I trust you explicitly."
"Then why'd you send me out to that warehouse?" She sprang out of the computer chair. "If it's not about trust, what is it about?"
"Max, I don't want you to -"
"If the next words out of your mouth are going to be 'get hurt,' please don't even bother." Max crossed her arms. "I've been taking care of myself long enough to know how to survive out there."
"I didn't mean it like that." He sighed. He wasn't looking for a fight, but thought she might be. "I just meant..."
"Just meant what, Logan? Inquiring minds want to know."
"Max, I just..." He sighed in frustration. "I just don't want you hurt."
"So, you trust me, but not enough to believe I can take care of myself?" She shook her head. "Your logic is horrible sometimes, you know that?"
"Max... I don't know what to say here."
"I do." She said. "And it's 'I'm leaving.' If you decide that I can be trusted enough to do what I've been doing for ten years now, please give me a call."
Before he could reply, she walked past him and was out the door. He sighed and sat in the empty computer chair. He didn't regret keeping Max from the area that was swarming with Manticore troops, but he did regret the way he did it. But he wouldn't call her to apologize just yet. He decided that they probably needed a little breather from the sniper case. He pinched the bridge of his nose and just sat.
* * *
He checked his watch. Two AM. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and stared at it. When it came to life a minute after, he flicked it open and answered.
"Hello?"
"Hit."
The line then went dead. He smiled and placed his cellphone back in his pocket, then picked up his briefcase and continued walking.
A/N: You know, I'm taking some good advice and not changing a thing. :)