A/N: I know I said this would be a one-shot…I lied. Deal with it. Reviewers convinced me to continue, that's the kind of power that little button has.
It's been almost a week, and Max still can't stop thinking about him. She can't forget him, can't forget his voice, or his face, or his body, and it makes her sick. She can't look Logan in the eye, she can't look at herself in the mirror, and she never sleeps. She tried to, tried to bury Ames White in the back of her mind for a couple of hours and forget everything.
It didn't work.
She woke almost four hours later, panting and sweating and shaking, from a dream so real she swore she could taste his mouth, feel the weight of his body on hers and his hands on her skin. She hasn't slept since.
Terminal City has never been more efficient; lost in her own problems, Max throws herself into her work. She doesn't sleep, and she doesn't eat, and she never stops, and she won't give anyone else a break, either.
Original Cindy comes to talk to her after her fifth fight with Alec in as many hours.
"Boo," she says, her voice tentative, "you alright, girl?"
"I'm fine," Max says shortly, preoccupied. She's found that if she thinks about several things at once, food requirements, and perimeter security, and patrol rosters, and weapons supplies, her mind doesn't have room for White. She can forget him for a few minutes at a time.
Original Cindy isn't convinced.
"Girl, you've been acting real weird since you let tall, dark, and evil run free. You worried he's gonna pull something?"
Max wants to laugh, yes, White's been on her mind, but her friend couldn't be more wrong about the reason.
"It's not that," Max assures her, "it's nothing to do with him."
Original Cindy frowns at her, "I'm not so sure that's true, boo. You sure got something on your mind. Did he say something to get you all worried and confused when you went down there? I know you hate his cryptic shit."
"Other than his usual annoyingly useless hints about the runes, no. It's nothing, don't worry about me." Max wishes she would just go away: it's hard to keep her mind busy and carry on a conversation with her all-too-intuitive friend at the same time. White is starting to slip back into her thoughts. Of course Original Cindy would have to bring him up.
Her friend sighs, "Fine, girl. Don't share your problems. Just remember I'm always here." She turns to walk out of Max's makeshift office, and then turns back.
"And stop taking your frustrations out on Alec. It ain't his fault you're all tied up in knots over something." With that parting wisdom, she leaves Max to her disgusted contemplation of the state of her mind.
White is ruining her life.
That's not really fair, she realizes a moment later. It's not like he came on to her, admittedly he was shirtless, but that was understandable given the temperature. It's not his fault. He's certainly never given her any reason to think of him this way.
It's her fault. Something is horribly wrong with her, maybe she needs therapy.
Maybe she's going into heat again.
That would be inconvenient, but it sure would give a nice explanation of her reaction to White. Her hormones are gearing up to go into overdrive, and she reacted to White because he was a healthy, attractive, genetically superior male in her vicinity. Perfect. There's nothing wrong with her; this is perfectly normal.
A visit to Dr. Crew throws that explanation out.
"Congratulations." He says, brightly, "You pass your regular check up with flying colors. Nothing to worry about."
Max smiles at him, "Doc," she says, after a moment, "am I going into heat anytime soon?"
"Oh no," Dr. Crew shakes his head vigorously, "if you were going into heat anytime this month there would have been greatly increased levels of estrogen in your bloodstream. You've got nothing to worry about."
"Great." Max smiles at him, screaming inwardly. She's got big, big problems.
A/N: I have no idea where I'm going with this. Suggestions are desperately required.