Just Like In Porn

Disclaimer: Anything you could sue me for isn't mine

This is an AU story


He felt numb, he couldn't think or feel most of his body. 'Well no surprise in the latter', he thought as his mind leaked back into a coherent tool, 'after all I am paraplegic…'

He was sprawled out in bed, legs and arms thrown to all angles and the sheets pulled over him completely. Hiding underneath his duvet was a pretty childish thing to do he thought, but it always seemed to help. He felt rough as shit, he had only got to bed at 4am and he had had way too much white rum, or Bacardi as he vaguely remembered the brand, a 1997 if his rather hazy memory of the party served him right. He smirked, 'party'… made it sound like he had a social life. By party he had meant sitting in alone and downing it straight from the bottle watching some old DVDs he had found in a box in his store room. The sun wasn't too bright this morning, and he could already hear rain, no… too hard. Must be hale stones.

His bed was all white, every material used was white silk mainly, yet with his eyes glued shut he felt nothing but black, like he was in a well, away from everything, everyone… but he didn't want to think about that. It hurt too much, nothing made sense. He really did feel like shit, more than usual. Dragging the sheets down he peered through one eye at the alarm clock, 7am. No wonder, 3 hours sleep.

"Bollocks to this" he grunted out loud before pulling the sheets back over his head, he would hide in the bottom of the well as long as he could. The only problem was that he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. And logic dictates that if your awake and doing nothing physical at all, you are going to think. And like it always did Logan's self torturing traitorous mind started tearing him apart from the inside out.

His mind was a swirl of scenes from his life and what he had imagined to be the reality of what he had been told by others.

Valarie: "He's more man than you ever were!"

Bling: "I can't stand to see you do this anymore, call me when you get yourself together"

Sam: "I can't lie to you Logan, the chances of you ever walking again are next to none…"

Asha: "I'm leaving you"

The first voice was that of his Ex-wife, Valarie. They had been together for two years, the majority of the last she spent drunk, taking it out on anybody she couldn't use for something. Logan she used for sex at the start, and then she started cheating on him, so he got the brunt of her alcohol-fuelled rage. Then after her parents put her in a rehab clinic for 5 months (blaming Logan for her becoming an alcoholic in the first place) she got sober and ran off with a brawn over brains Latin "love god" as she called him. He remembered the last time he saw her well.

"Get out of my home" he said coldly, staring at her with fire spitting from his eyes. She had taken all of her things the week before, their divorce was complete and now she had no reason to be here. Yet she had called in to rub the salt in his wounds, just because she felt like it.

"He's more man than you ever were!" she spat, "you're a pitiful cunt, not even a good fuck"

"GET OUT!" He shouted, and Val knew when to leave him to burn alone.

"I'm going, and I hope you rot up here in your tower, nobody cares about you" she said as she was about to step out of the door, "Your alone".

And she was gone. As far as he knew she had left the country, with Edwardo Swarez, Mr. Latin. After that he did feel alone, he wasn't the going out type, he had little to no friends, most of the world didn't know he existed at all. He had even erased all of his records from the world's networks, being exceedingly good with computers since a young age. He was a ghost, a shadow in the dark. He didn't exist. Period.

And that was his life for three years, a loner above the world, looking down at the corruption, it wasn't too long after his first year alone that the world was introduced to Eyes Only. He had seemingly found his calling, but despite the constant danger and the slight satisfaction of feeling like a guardian angel over Seattle, he felt hollow, still alone and struggling against what seemed an unbeatable flaw in the human race itself. The rape, murder, theft… it was all the fault of those he was trying to protect, or at least some of them. He could no longer tell where the good ended and the evil began, not even in himself. Was he the good person he was always trying to be, or was a bad person trying to make amends for what he had become?

The second voice was that of Bling, his former personal trainer. Logan had gotten himself shot 6 months ago and had hired him to see if there was any chance he would ever be able to walk again. Afterfour months of intense physical, his doctor friend Sam Carr had the unfortunate task of informing him that he was, how Logan himself had put it at the time "Fucked". His legs would never work again. From then his friendship with Bling broke down, especially after Asha left. "Ah Asha," he thought, "you would be proud of me!" he tried to laugh at himself hiding in bed, but he didn't even find it funny himself.

Logan had met Asha Barlow soon after starting up Eyes Only, she was an operative of the S1W. It was a small organised vigilante group, only without the excessive violence, preferring covert sabotage of criminal operations and subterfuge. She of course didn't know Logan was Eyes Only, she merely thought he was just a contact like her. She quickly became his best friend, shortly his lover. She had a heart of gold, perhaps too much. She could tell Logan was hiding things from her, never letting her get too close to him. Like once she had told him he had "Fog bank syndrome" or something, which he smirked when he remembered. She was a great woman, he wasn't entirely sure if he loved her, or just what she stood for.

It wasn't good however, when she got attached to him. He wasn't entirely sure what went wrong but with certain things in his past shouting at him never to get too close to anybody he lost her friendship, which mattered most to him. He couldn't give her the level of attention she wanted, but what she wanted was his heart. It wasn't hers. Hell it wasn't even his, he had given it to the city, to the scum of the streets, to the good people and the innocent. He was Eyes Only, that was what he was foremost, not a person. She had left him on good terms, although she had well and truly left, to go on some underground resistance mission over in New York. That was eight months ago, she had no idea he was now a cripple. He had often wondered what she would think of him now? Wether or not she would see him in the same light. He would never know.

He pulled the sheets down again, he must have fallen asleep anyway, wadda youknow? It was eleven thirty already, and he had things to do, things outside of his penthouse apartment, which he always looked forwards to even though he had almost forgotten. Pulling on his sweat pants from under his sheets he pushed his legs off the side as he shimmied to the side of the bed. Pulling a tag coming from under the bed he pulled out a large metal contraption, his exo-skeleton. He had been given it as a thank you by one of his Eyes Only success cases. It was a man called Doctor Octavius, who specialised in robotic transportation equipment. He was being held to ransom by some thugs who Logan had put away, and he hadn't known how to thank Eyes Only himself, so he just gave his contact a gift, seen as he "Looked like he needed it" as the doc had put it seeing his frustration at being in the chair. Slipping his legs into it he heard the servomotors whirl to life and the gentle hum that he could barely hear kick in. Stand up he stretch his arms out, jumping lightly on his toes with a smirk. Mobility was severely fore granted by everybody, but never again by Logan Cale. Now he had to put his mobility to use, he was almost late.


"Hey Boo, get your lazyself outta bed before I go original on your ass!" cried Cindy from the kitchen of their "Borrowed" apartment. They called it borrowed instead of stolen because nobody owned it, so they had just borrowed it until it was sold to somebody, "Well us and another hundred or so other borrowers, and I ain't talkin' little people here" Original Cindy mused. Their apartment wasn't the best looking place ever, but it was great considering it was free, well almost free. The fat son-of-a-bitch Walter demanded a hundred bucks a month from each apartment, no matter how many people stayed in each. It wasn't bad, in fact it was quite a good deal, but Cindy never let him know that, it should be free. Walter was a cop, and he had threatened to bring in the eviction team once before when a family of Cubans upstairs hadn't been able to afford the rent, but her best friend had come to the rescue with more than enough for three months of rent, giving Walter a piece of her mind at the same time.

Her best friend who simply refused to get out of bed. Cindy poured her a cup of cold coffee (all amenities had been shut off for the week while they got repaired for the first time in like 7 years, the water had been stored beforehand in anything water tight they could find) and proceeded to walk to her room. Their apartment was full of odds and ends, Her friends Motorcycle, or "Baby" as she called it, some old materials draping around and some ragged old sofas and chairs. It wasn't grand but Cindy had never liked Grand anyways, regal wasn't her thing.

"Yo Boo, you movin or what?" Cindy asked as she opened the door to her friend's room. Looking in she could see the bed was empty and then she heard water being poured into the bathtub. She had got the barrel in the bathroom for storing water for emergencies, but guessed that a girls not that regular bath might be considered an emergency if there ever was one.

"I'll leave your coffee on the side, I'm goin ta work, and I'll let stormin' Normal you will be a bit late" she laughed as she departed to head off to Jam Pony.

Max lay in the bath tub, her wet hair raining dripping water down her face, warm water. Such simple things just feel so good when simple things become so hard to come by. Her slim but curvaceous figure danced through the shallow water trying to get into a position where she felt warm all over, with no flowing water for another three days she couldn't spare enough for a full tub, let alone enough to fully submerge her. The few bubbles she had pooped silently as she prodded them, playing around like a child. She could play like a child whenever she felt like; she hadn't had much chance as a child after all. It was all military disciplining and training, not exactly what you would expect for a kid even in the pre-pulse world they were in. Some things just sucked ass, and her childhood was one of them. It was a Wednesday and a half day at Jam Pony, where she worked as a bike messenger. It was unheard of that Normal (Stormin' Normal as he had become known was their arsehole employer) gave them a half day, but it was the anniversary of the death of his idle, president someone or other, Max didn't particularly care as long as it got her a chance to have a bath.

Looking at her watch it was five past twelve, and she could feel her water starting to lose its warmth by the minute. Getting out she flicked her head back, throwing the hair from her face as she wrapped herself in a dark blue towel. It was a big fluffy material that went from just over her bust to just above her knees, it had cost her a shit-loada cash from a specialist fabric maker (It was impossible to find a good quality towel these days, and it was one of the finer things in life to Max). Walking out to take a sip of her coffee she heard a rather loud blunt knocking on the door.

"Be right there" she called out before spitting in the coffee and siring it in, taking it to the door along with a small wad of notes in an elastic band. Opening the door just enough to fit the coffee cup out she looked out and instantly wanted to pour something lethal into the coffee too.

"Walter, great to see you as usual" she said, the sarcasm so thick even the rather dense crooked cop got it.

"Max, time for you to pay up, and a coffee never hurts" he said trying to smile, he just had to remind himself this was the last time he would be doing this.

"Sure, here's the rent and your usual, no milk, not that we could afford any anyway" she said passing the money first and then the cup through the small gap in the door. She watched him slid the cash into his pocket and then she half grimaced half smirked as he chugged the cold coffee before giving her the cup back.

"Why you hiding behind the door Max?" he could tell she wasn't fully dressed by her still dripping went hair, "You not wanna make my day?" he chuckled, knowing full well that he had no chance in hell.

"Get outta here before I shove this cup somewhere I'm sure you'll approve" She snapped slamming the door in his face. She heard him laugh and whisper to himself "Ouch" before whistling as he proceeded to the next floor. Max turned and walked towards her bedroom, only getting half way across the room before she heard another loud knock on the door. "I'm gonna break his fuckin…" she growled as she stormed over to the door before ripping it fully open, her fist clenched at her side ready to take Walters head off, only it wasn't Walter there, it wasn't Walter at all.

"Holy Shit, he's gorgeous!" She thought, almost out loud. The dimples, the glasses, hair, jaw line, stubble shadow. Her mind couldn't focus; it was a mild sensory overload. There he stood in front of her, a bout 6'2, in a tight fitting black T-shirt with a light grey suede jacket on and black cord trousers. The boy worked out she was sure of that, good god she was getting all… wait he must want something or he wouldn't have knocked. Then she snapped out of it and realised that she was stood in full view of him in nothing more than a towel. Suddenly she hoped he wasn't a thug who would take his chances on her because she was semi dressed. He was too cute to kick his ass…

"Can I help you?" she asked a bit too aggressively, mental berating herself almost immediately, "Don't scare the poor guy Max, you've only just met"

"Yes, I'm from the company repairing your water. I was wondering if I could look at your boiler?",Logan lied, trying to remember his story. He flashed a fake ID card, but she didn't look at it, distracted somewhat by it'sowner.It was taking all his effort and self-control to make sure he didn't stare at her. She was amazing, her eyes the colour of continental chocolate, her skin a mild mocha tan and her hair weaves ofdark,charred browncurls, one raining down her beautiful face to her oh so full lips. He wished he hadn't picked the boiler story, it reminded him too much of pornography. He tried to hide the smirk. One of his college friends years ago had told him about him being worried his girlfriend was in when the gasman called. Logan had obviously asked why he was so paranoid about it and his friend had simply told him that it was just like porn, women always got it on with the gasman, something about his big spanner or something he couldn't remember, he couldn't even think clearly.

"Erm, yeah sure. It's through here" Max stood aside holding the door open for her all to welcome guest. As he walked in she checked his ass, giving it a 10/10 before giving herself a 0/10 for self-respect, 'What the hell is wrong with you?' she slapped herself mentally. He walked in, looking around a bit before turning back to her.

"In here?" he asked pointing with his thumb over his shoulder to the bathroom. How had he gotten himself into this? He had seen beautiful women before, even seduced a few, but this was different… There was just something about her.

"Yeah, I'm just going to get dressed I will be with you in a minute" she forced out, trying her hardest not to sound too interested, that would give the game away.

"Okay" he said walking into the bathroom. It was good that she wasn't in there with him, he didn't know the first thing about boilers. He just stared at it and then opened and shut the door to make it sound like he had done something useful, kneeling next to it. He was here on an Eyes Only case. He had heard that a crooked cop was going to call in the eviction squad on some innocent homeless types even though they were paying the rent in full. His contact was a girl called Kendra, and at first he thought he should call the squad himself, but after thinking about it he wouldn't do such a thing. These people needed a home, this building was un-owned and the two families he had seen before he knocked on this door seemed nice people just wanting a roof over their heads. As for now, no fucking chance in hell, doing anything to harm that girl was out of the question. He knew it was only physical attraction but he just couldn't fathom doing anything to harm her in anyway. He felt breath ripple over the back of his neck and his eyes fluttered shut for a second, a weird feeling making his stomach do back flips.

She was crouched over him looking at the boiler.

"Like what you see?" She whispered into his ear, seeing his eyes shoot open and his breath leave him. Oh yeah, she still had it alright.

"Pardon?" he choked out.

"The boiler, do you like what you see? Is it bust or what?" she smiled, knowing her double meaning had him stumped.

He could see her smiling over his shoulder in the shiny metal of the boiler, and he reminded himself he was supposed to be in control of himself. Two could play at this game he thought.

"Oh no, its not broken. Pity its not, I would like to have a look at it, see why its in such good condition" He said to her, tilting his head over his shoulder to look her in the eyes.

Max was almost stunned, he wasn't meant to do that. No other man could do that. He was pushing her buttons, and she didn't even know his name. Max stood up as he did and watched him, reluctantly as it would seem to her, walk towards the door.

"Well, I'll let myself out. It was nice to meet you miss?" he asked, dying to at least know her name. He was trying to throw himself out, but it was harder than he had thought.

"Guevara, Max Guevara. And you, what's your alias?" She asked with a smirk. She was stood so close to him it was strange considering they had just met, but it didn't feel strange at all.

Logan couldn't remember what his fake name he had prepared was, shit shit, shit!

"Logan Cale" he said. Dammit!

"Well then Logan, I'll see you around. I hope" Max said as he stepped out into the hallway. She hadn't meant for that to sound desperate, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah, I hope I will. Bye Max" he said, forcing his robotically assisted legs to move him away from her, how the hell had that just happened? 'Bye Max'? I must sound like such and idiot! You don't call her by her first name that quick you dope!

Max shut the door and checked her watch, "Shit!" she muttered as she realised she was late for work, well… more late than usual.