It had been a hot run to Lexington when her pager sounded shrilly. She saw Logan's number and decided to ignore the call. She just delivered the package and swung in the direction of Fogle Towers. If Normal asked, she'd have an excuse. She hadn't thought of it yet, but when he asked, it would be on the tip of her tongue.
She left her bicycle near the Aztek and made her way to the apartment. She picked the lock and let herself in.
"Logan!"
"In here," came his muffled reply.
She found him in the kitchen, cradling a bowl of something and a wooden spoon clamped tightly between his teeth. She regarded him closely and allowed herself a smile. It all felt so… familiar.
"So, what's the emergency?" she asked and slid onto a stool at the butcher-block island.
"Lunch."
"I'm on the clock," Max said, "so… perfect. What are you making?"
"Brownies," he said and gestured to the bowl. In doing so, he dropped the spoon. It hit his shirt, smearing the front with brownie mix. "Damn."
He set the bowl and spoon on the counter. "I'm gonna go change and throw this in the wash."
After he had wheeled out of the room, Max grabbed the spoon from the bowl and wiped her finger along the edge. Once she had an acceptable amount of batter on her finger, she licked it off and thought of how much she would really enjoy the dessert. Before she could get another taste, there was a knock at the door. Deciding to sing for her supper - or rather, answer the door for her lunch - she got up and went to the door.
She opened it and immediately regretted her decision.
Deedra was at the door, looking a bit surprised.
"Oh, hello." Deedra had tried to make it seem as if she had always had strange women open Logan's door for her. She hadn't been very successful.
"Hi," Max said and stepped aside.
Deedra brushed past her and went into the kitchen.
Max closed the door and followed. She slid back onto her seat and eyed up the brownie batter.
The most uncomfortable silence of Max's life occurred soon after. For the first time in a long time, Max's thoughts didn't consume her. She had only one thought and it was quite simple: Oh. Shit.
Deedra turned to her finally. She examined Max closely and Max tried her best to stare ahead and look very neutral.
"You're the woman from the pictures."
Max turned to her. "I'm sorry?"
"The pictures," Deedra said slowly. "In his office. They're of you."
Max could remember the pictures Deedra meant. Bling had insisted on taking photos of her and Logan at different stages of annoyance to use to annoy them at later dates. When the photos returned, both Max and Logan were surprised to find some not-so-bad pictures of themselves amidst the scowls and rolling eyes. Yes, she was the woman from the pictures.
"Oh, right, in the office," Max said and nodded.
"You're much more beautiful in person," Deedra commented.
Max had the sudden urge to admit the kiss to the other woman. She felt terrible. "Thank you."
"You're Max, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Logan talks about you… a lot," Deedra said, then added a small laugh. "I felt like I'd known you as well."
"He's a real descriptive storyteller," Max replied and mentally kicked herself.
"It's more than that," Deedra said, suddenly quiet. "He cares about you, you know… and not just like a friend."
Max froze. Was there an echo in Logan's apartment?
"Deedra, I don't -"
"You don't have to explain," she interrupted. "I understood since he first started talking about you. He said you left and you probably weren't coming back, but… I don't know, something in his voice sort of seemed like he hoped you would."
Max felt like Deedra had hit her with a lead pipe. In a good way. Almost.
"He doesn't have any pictures of me, you know," Deedra continued. "We've had pictures taken together - at parties and things like that. I've given him copies, but… I've never made it into the office. There's only room for one set of pictures in there."
Max was speechless very rarely in life. Well, she had used to be speechless very rarely, but lately she'd felt as if the only thing she ever had been was speechless.
"I don't blame you," Deedra said. "I don't blame him. You can't blame people for being in love."
"Oh, we're not -"
Deedra smiled sadly and interrupted, "I think I'm going to go. Tell Logan… tell him I had a really nice time."
Max could only nod.
Deedra offered a sad smile and left the apartment.
A few minutes after Deedra left, Logan came back into the kitchen, wearing a new shirt.
"Who was that?" he asked as he pulled the bowl of batter back into his lap.
"Deedra," Max answered quietly. "And Logan… she had a nice time."
"I don't get it," Logan answered slowly.
Max looked at him and smiled.
You couldn't blame her for being in love.
A/N: You know a fic is running your life when your first waking thought is simply, "Max."