Disclaimer: I don't own em'
Title: Cale Diaries
Chapter 4: Friday April 12, 2019 - Her name is Max
Rating: PG
Episode Reference: Pilot
Fic Reference: None
A/N: Here they are for all you shippers Logan's feelings as he tracks down Max!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday April 12, 2019
10:00 am
I went up on the roof first thing this morning to figure out how our cat burglar dropped in on us. God do I hate heights! But my foray was worth it. I found the lead I was looking for. I discovered a black nylon rope snaking down the side of the building beside us, anchored to the roof ten stories up, it's still there now. She must have jumped from the roof and used the rope to arc over here. Unbelievable! She really did drop out of the sky.
The guard next door was happy to hand over yesterday's surveillance video for a little cash. And there she was, in full color, our cat, courtesy of Jam Pony Messenger Services. It's the perfect cover for a cat burglar, legitimate access to innumerable locations, unlimited opportunities for reconnaissance. She probably cased out the apartment yesterday afternoon after delivering her package. I wouldn't be surprised if there were still a few well-placed pieces of tape here or there keeping a key door or two unlocked.
Peter caught me staring at her. What did he expect? She has the most breathtaking face I have ever seen. But it's more than just a beautiful face. It's those eyes, those forever eyes. There is a depth in those eyes I've never seen before. What is she hiding in their depths? I could have searched those eyes for hours.
4:00 pm
Her name is Max.
With a little more cash and a few well-placed questions at Jam Pony I got her name and her address. Her building is only ten years old, but crumbling from disrepair. It was supposed to be a luxury development. The old marketing posters are still outside, faded and spray painted over, "Downtown living at its finest". Then the pulse hit and everything stopped. It was never finished. Just a skeleton remains, partially studded floors, unfinished drywall, roughed in fixtures, no appliances. All hints of past glory have been worn away by neglect. Yet dozens of buildings like this have been taken over by squatters desperate for housing. In this world it still is the lap of luxury compared to the buses and cars so many live in. Max's place is better than most. She has running water, cold of course and she even has a hot plate in the kitchen. She is obviously siphoning power from the city power grid. Probably rigged up the connection herself. It was a typical single girl's apartment, makeshift furniture, junkyard finds, clothes everywhere, a little food in the kitchen. Typical except for the bottle of tryptophan in the bathroom.
I just finished going through the Manticore file with a fine-tooth comb. My hunch about the tryptophan was correct. They used recombinant DNA to design a superior human, an advanced infantry solder. They had design flaws though, not the least of which was the inability of their brains to produce sufficient seratonin causing severe seizures. Manticore was working on a gene therapy for the condition but at the time of the report they were unsuccessful. The most effective medication at that time was Tryptophan. As the pieces come together I am more and more convinced that Max is one of these soldiers. I wonder how she has been dealing with the seizures all these years?
There were a couple dozen of these kids. After the in-vitro work they recruited surrogate mothers to carry them to term. Twelve of them escaped in '09. They must have been about ten years old then. It's almost incomprehensible to think that a few ten year olds escaped a heavily guarded military facility. What did they build into these kids? I would love to have just one soldier like that on my security crew. They have tattoos on their necks, an identifying barcode. I wonder if I will be able to get close enough to Max to see hers.
10:00 pm
I tracked Max down at Crash, her after work hangout, this evening. She is even more beautiful in person than she is on video. I barely know her yet there is an inexplicable comfort and a crackling tension between us. She is so different from anyone I've ever known. I've never felt this way with another woman before. I've spent the whole day tracking her down and I still can't get her off my mind.
I love her sassy attitude, even her cynicism. She has a sarcastic comment for everything I say. "Rich people decorating their houses to match the cat. Those good old days?" What a comeback! She claims she doesn't have a social conscience. That she doesn't care about anything but going fast on her bike. I don't believe that, not with the depths in those eyes. When I see her tonight I'm going to call her on it.
We talked for all of five minutes outside Crash before she pulled another fast exit. This is becoming a habit with her. But I know I'll be seeing her soon. When she discovers the little gift I left her back at her apartment she will be back. Maybe I can convince her to stay for dinner. In any case the meal is prepared. The table is set. This little game we're playing is the most fun I've had in ages.
11:00pm
My cat dropped in for dinner but she didn't stay.
It was easier catching a glimpse of her barcode than I thought. No girl is immune to some well-directed flattery not even Max. And it is so easy to give when you are at least partially sincere. Just tell them the truth, but blow it up a little, add a little spice. Then give them a look like you might not mean it, that you know you are feeding them a line. Then at the last moment look away, like they caught you saying too much, that maybe you did mean it after all.
It worked with Max. The lines came out perfectly. "Probably the most singularly beautiful face I've ever seen." "I haven't been able to get you off my mind." "I have to know everything about you." The only problem was that there was more truth to them than I ever intended. I'm not immune to Max either. When I leaned in to find her barcode, I would rather have kissed that beautiful neck of hers. Maybe I should have. But then Eyes Only took over. The barcode was there, as I knew it would be. I should have just ignored it and kissed her, but I didn't. I backed away and got straight to business. Of course the mission has to take priority. It always takes precedence over anything else in my life.
I offered Max a deal I was sure she would accept, information about the others in exchange for help with the transfer tomorrow. But she turned me down cold. It seems her conscience is not quite as developed as I'd hoped. Even the offer to find the others like her wasn't enough to bring her along.
She pulled another fast exit, but she won't be able to go far. She may not be working with us tomorrow but I'm not going to let her off the hook so easily. I'll find her again. This game is far from over.
Title: Cale Diaries
Chapter 4: Friday April 12, 2019 - Her name is Max
Rating: PG
Episode Reference: Pilot
Fic Reference: None
A/N: Here they are for all you shippers Logan's feelings as he tracks down Max!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday April 12, 2019
10:00 am
I went up on the roof first thing this morning to figure out how our cat burglar dropped in on us. God do I hate heights! But my foray was worth it. I found the lead I was looking for. I discovered a black nylon rope snaking down the side of the building beside us, anchored to the roof ten stories up, it's still there now. She must have jumped from the roof and used the rope to arc over here. Unbelievable! She really did drop out of the sky.
The guard next door was happy to hand over yesterday's surveillance video for a little cash. And there she was, in full color, our cat, courtesy of Jam Pony Messenger Services. It's the perfect cover for a cat burglar, legitimate access to innumerable locations, unlimited opportunities for reconnaissance. She probably cased out the apartment yesterday afternoon after delivering her package. I wouldn't be surprised if there were still a few well-placed pieces of tape here or there keeping a key door or two unlocked.
Peter caught me staring at her. What did he expect? She has the most breathtaking face I have ever seen. But it's more than just a beautiful face. It's those eyes, those forever eyes. There is a depth in those eyes I've never seen before. What is she hiding in their depths? I could have searched those eyes for hours.
4:00 pm
Her name is Max.
With a little more cash and a few well-placed questions at Jam Pony I got her name and her address. Her building is only ten years old, but crumbling from disrepair. It was supposed to be a luxury development. The old marketing posters are still outside, faded and spray painted over, "Downtown living at its finest". Then the pulse hit and everything stopped. It was never finished. Just a skeleton remains, partially studded floors, unfinished drywall, roughed in fixtures, no appliances. All hints of past glory have been worn away by neglect. Yet dozens of buildings like this have been taken over by squatters desperate for housing. In this world it still is the lap of luxury compared to the buses and cars so many live in. Max's place is better than most. She has running water, cold of course and she even has a hot plate in the kitchen. She is obviously siphoning power from the city power grid. Probably rigged up the connection herself. It was a typical single girl's apartment, makeshift furniture, junkyard finds, clothes everywhere, a little food in the kitchen. Typical except for the bottle of tryptophan in the bathroom.
I just finished going through the Manticore file with a fine-tooth comb. My hunch about the tryptophan was correct. They used recombinant DNA to design a superior human, an advanced infantry solder. They had design flaws though, not the least of which was the inability of their brains to produce sufficient seratonin causing severe seizures. Manticore was working on a gene therapy for the condition but at the time of the report they were unsuccessful. The most effective medication at that time was Tryptophan. As the pieces come together I am more and more convinced that Max is one of these soldiers. I wonder how she has been dealing with the seizures all these years?
There were a couple dozen of these kids. After the in-vitro work they recruited surrogate mothers to carry them to term. Twelve of them escaped in '09. They must have been about ten years old then. It's almost incomprehensible to think that a few ten year olds escaped a heavily guarded military facility. What did they build into these kids? I would love to have just one soldier like that on my security crew. They have tattoos on their necks, an identifying barcode. I wonder if I will be able to get close enough to Max to see hers.
10:00 pm
I tracked Max down at Crash, her after work hangout, this evening. She is even more beautiful in person than she is on video. I barely know her yet there is an inexplicable comfort and a crackling tension between us. She is so different from anyone I've ever known. I've never felt this way with another woman before. I've spent the whole day tracking her down and I still can't get her off my mind.
I love her sassy attitude, even her cynicism. She has a sarcastic comment for everything I say. "Rich people decorating their houses to match the cat. Those good old days?" What a comeback! She claims she doesn't have a social conscience. That she doesn't care about anything but going fast on her bike. I don't believe that, not with the depths in those eyes. When I see her tonight I'm going to call her on it.
We talked for all of five minutes outside Crash before she pulled another fast exit. This is becoming a habit with her. But I know I'll be seeing her soon. When she discovers the little gift I left her back at her apartment she will be back. Maybe I can convince her to stay for dinner. In any case the meal is prepared. The table is set. This little game we're playing is the most fun I've had in ages.
11:00pm
My cat dropped in for dinner but she didn't stay.
It was easier catching a glimpse of her barcode than I thought. No girl is immune to some well-directed flattery not even Max. And it is so easy to give when you are at least partially sincere. Just tell them the truth, but blow it up a little, add a little spice. Then give them a look like you might not mean it, that you know you are feeding them a line. Then at the last moment look away, like they caught you saying too much, that maybe you did mean it after all.
It worked with Max. The lines came out perfectly. "Probably the most singularly beautiful face I've ever seen." "I haven't been able to get you off my mind." "I have to know everything about you." The only problem was that there was more truth to them than I ever intended. I'm not immune to Max either. When I leaned in to find her barcode, I would rather have kissed that beautiful neck of hers. Maybe I should have. But then Eyes Only took over. The barcode was there, as I knew it would be. I should have just ignored it and kissed her, but I didn't. I backed away and got straight to business. Of course the mission has to take priority. It always takes precedence over anything else in my life.
I offered Max a deal I was sure she would accept, information about the others in exchange for help with the transfer tomorrow. But she turned me down cold. It seems her conscience is not quite as developed as I'd hoped. Even the offer to find the others like her wasn't enough to bring her along.
She pulled another fast exit, but she won't be able to go far. She may not be working with us tomorrow but I'm not going to let her off the hook so easily. I'll find her again. This game is far from over.