A/N: You can turn off the Foo Fighters now, though I'd be happy to provide a detailed soundtrack list.

Disclaimer: Any resemblance between the characters to any persons who actually exist is purely coincidental - wait, wrong disclaimer - right, nothing belongs to me.

Chapter 8: Interlude

"It was a dumb move," she scolded, whispering in the darkness, but he could feel her smiling against his shoulder.

"Well, it's not like I meant to do it. It's not like a planned it," he tried to defend himself, but felt silly doing so. After all, if he hadn't kissed her, they'd still believe the virus was a factor. He probably would have left, and they'd both be miserable. Now the virus was no longer in the picture, and he wouldn't have apologized for all the world.

"Right," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "you tripped."

"And landed with my hands under your top," he added with a short laugh. She giggled, and he moved farther down into the pillows, carefully tipping her head up so he could look at her. She was smiling, and she didn't look away when their eyes met. It was amazing. He still couldn't believe that the night was actually happening. It was too similar to all of the dreams that had haunted him for so many endless months. How many times had he awoken in the middle of the night confused because he'd dreamed of her sleeping beside him?

They were tangled in the sheets, and she was running her foot lazily up and down his leg. It was, quite possibly, the most awe-inspiring thing she'd ever done. He'd seen this woman jump out a window and land, on her feet, several floors below, without a scratch on her. She'd jumped off a roof to save his life. She'd come back from the dead. Yet, somehow, the simple feeling of her bare legs entwined with his was… too incredible for words. Suddenly, he had everything he wanted. A wave of reverence washed over him as he realized that this was, in all likelihood, the best moment of his life… so far.

"I missed you," Max whispered.

Logan inhaled deeply, unable to answer for a moment. He pulled her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Sorry I was such an asshole," he finally replied, unable to even voice the extent to which he'd missed her. "I didn't mean to push you away."

"I know. Sorry I ran off to Canada." She said it almost absently, as if she was too enraptured by the present to give any consideration to the past (or maybe Logan was merely projecting). He began to weave his fingers through her hair, and she moaned slightly – a relaxed, comfortable sigh of contentment. Beautiful. She was so beautiful.

Logan allowed himself a luxurious stretch while Max moved closer, her fingers splaying over his chest. God, he felt so relaxed. He never wanted to leave that bed as long as he lived. He trailed his fingers lazily along the curve of her hip, intoxicated by the odd mixture of dreamy languor and arousal that filled him. Max shivered, and he felt it echo through his body. Their eyes met.

"Tired?" Max asked quietly, moving so that her lips hovered merely a breath above his own.

"Not at all," he smiled in reply, closing the distance eagerly.

A/N: TBC... some answers in the next chapter, I think. This was just fluff, because I felt some fluff was needed.