A/N: This fic was inspired by a song ("Don't Happen Twice" by Kenny Chesney) and a Cape Haven elemental challenge. Originally, the only element I'd intended to include was stargazing!Logan, since it fit the song perfectly. Quite by accident, I also managed to include an overheard conversation and a package that goes missing. I hope you like the result. Thanks to Alaidh and Kasman for betaing.
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"Don't hold up the war on my account," Max said, turning to Logan as soon as he was off the phone.
He gave her the slightest glance of surprise, perhaps not expecting her to acquiesce so easily to the necessity of his mission, but then shook it off and cocked his head. "The world will still be broken in the morning."
They smiled at each other. Max felt her grin widening and turned away so he wouldn't see her delight. He had really meant the apology—and wanted to spend the evening hanging out with her.
'Hang out?' Max, this is a date! You're having pasta tricolore...you should make the sauce...
It is not. Max rolled her eyes and shoved Kendra's voice out of her brain. Logan was just making up for his earlier inconsideration. If they'd wanted a date, they wouldn't have blown off that kiss like it was nothing.
She had to admit that it hadn't been for lack of desire. She had been embarrassed at having let her guard down, and more than a little nervous at the thought of somebody being so close to her. Darren, louse though he was, hadn't been completely wrong. She'd felt more comfortable chalking up the kiss to "emotion" and leaving it at that. For whatever reason, Logan had followed suit. Obviously, neither of them was ready to be anything other than friends.
Even as Max thought this, though, she remembered the taste of Logan's lips on hers.
Among the many panicked thoughts that had raced through her mind on her way to the harbor last night was regret over her decision at the hospital, that maybe she had blown her last chance to go for it with him. She was happy to have another one at dinner tonight. If things progressed beyond that, and they were both ready for it this time, then so much the better. And if they weren't...well, they would still have a nice dinner.
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An hour later, they sat back in their chairs, sated.
"You know," Max remarked, "I heard someone at work mention that there's gonna be a meteor shower tonight."
"Yeah, I heard about that," Logan nodded as he sipped his wine, not realizing she wasn't just making conversation.
She bit her lip in a smile. "The sky's actually clear, for once. How 'bout we go take a look?"
Logan looked up in surprise. Since when was she interested in such things? Not that the thought of stargazing with her was unappealing...
Max, who had been thinking it would be nice to spend an evening shoulder-to-shoulder with Logan without having to make excuses for it, suddenly found herself giving one. "It's been a long time since I've seen one. At Manticore they thought meteor showers were better studied than admired."
He regarded her thoughtfully. Max often spoke about Manticore in a deflective way, answering a question succinctly and then changing the subject. Either it bothered her to talk about it, or she was used to avoiding the subject for her own safety. Occasionally she volunteered information about her childhood, as she was doing now, and it never failed to make Logan stop and look at her anew. That she had survived such experiences impressed him. That she had thrived, and become this woman, with that bright spark...amazed him.
Look at her...she's excited about this.
He thought of the romantic outcomes to which stargazing often led, and wondered whether she was aware of the pattern. His mind immediately began imagining possibilities. He allowed himself to fantasize only for a moment before remembering all the reasons it was best not to go there. Still, the thought remained: She wants to go stargazing...with me. A smile slowly began to form on his face.
She took this as a sign of agreement and stood up. "Come on. Let's go up to the roof."
The roof? "Hold up, Max," he said, stopping her with a raised hand. "The city's no good for stargazing. Too many lights." It was the truth. The fact that he would be highly uncomfortable on the roof was beside the point.
A mischievous grin played on her lips. "In that case, maybe it's time you went up on the Space Needle. It may be in the city, but at least it's above the lights."
Logan smiled. "I've got something better in mind. Give me a few minutes to get ready and we'll head out." He backed away from the table and headed toward his bedroom.
Unable to resist needling him about the other night, Max called after him, "Is this your normal 'get ready' or your surprise-mission 'get ready'?"
"The first one," he called back.
"In that case," Max murmured to herself, stacking the plates, "I'll clear the table, after all." She had planned to pay Logan back for her lousy evening the other night by sticking him with the chore she normally performed after their dinners, but she was intrigued by this "something better" he was planning. Besides, clearing the table was better than twiddling her thumbs while she waited.
Eventually, he re-emerged, wearing an extra sweater and his leather jacket. He wheeled over to the wine rack, considered the selection, and inserted a bottle into his already-full backpack. Max hoped it contained something soft that wouldn't break the bottle if jostled.
She shrugged into her own jacket. "Ready?"
He waved toward the door. "After you."
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"So, where are we headed?" Max asked in the car, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
For a moment, Logan considered not telling her. It was fun to tease her, and it would be a better surprise that way. On the other hand, he'd already given her an unpleasant surprise this week; he wasn't sure how she would react to hanging out in an empty field. "There's a spot outside the city where my cousins and I used to go on our bikes. It's a clearing in the woods—perfect for stargazing."
She considered this, then smiled. "I guess I can play my Space Needle card another time."
"Thanks," he said dryly.
Their drive out of the city proceeded smoothly, conversation flowing easily, until they reached the last checkpoint at the city's limits. There, despite the late hour, motorists and pedestrians formed a line half a mile long. Some looked at their watches and grumbled. Others seemed resigned to the wait and conversed with each other good-naturedly. One enterprising woman was selling snacks and beverages to those waiting in line.
"Just how many people know about this hideaway of yours?" Max joked to Logan with a raised eyebrow.
"You'd think this was the line for the last helicopter out of Saigon," Logan remarked, a bit amazed himself. As odious as he found the concept of sector checkpoints, he had grown accustomed over the past ten years to waiting in their slow-moving lines, and they rarely drew his attention. A line this long, at such a late hour, was highly unusual. He moved the gearshift into park and sat back to wait.
The line was slow. Eventually Max became bored and turned on the radio. Post-Pulse radio stations rarely had the money to operate 24 hours a day, so the majority of the broadcast spectrum this time of night consisted of static. She hit the "scan" button and waited for the tuner to land on an operating station that played music. It wasn't the hip-hop and R&B that she usually listened to. This station played oldies.
"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose"...maybe for you, lady. It's just the opposite for me.
She was surprised to notice Logan humming next to her. He'd never hummed around her before. Maybe he really liked the song. Maybe he was just distracted. Either way, it was nice. Figuring he would stop if she said something about it, she just sat back and enjoyed his voice.
After half an hour of waiting, they reached the front of the line. A burly sector cop approached Logan's open window. "Sector pass?"
"What's the holdup?" Logan asked. He handed the cop the pass he had already withdrawn from its place in the sun visor.
"Riots in sector seven," the cop answered, clearly having repeated this answer many times. Only Logan's conversational tone prevented the cop from barking his response, as he had to those who had confronted him angrily about the wait. "City's clamping down on exits. You got some extra ID?"
Logan furrowed his brow, but he complied silently with the officer's unusual request.
"You too," the cop told Max.
After she handed over her Jam Pony badge, the cop took the IDs and stepped inside his booth. Through the window Max and Logan could see him running a computer check. They exchanged a glance.
The cop returned from the booth and handed back their IDs. "If you have any unfinished business outside the city, I suggest you take care of it."
"Thanks for the tip," Logan said. He handed Max her badge while raising his window. The cop moved on to the next car.
"That can't be good," Max remarked.
"We may have trouble getting back in tonight," Logan agreed, only half-joking. He tucked his sector pass back in the sun visor pocket and replaced his driver's license in his wallet. As the Aztek pulled away from the checkpoint, the driver behind them was denied exit and sent home the way he had come.
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"I feel like I forgot something," Logan remarked after a while.
"House keys? Sector-cop repellant?" Max supplied. Logan chuckled and shook his head. Max's tone turned serious as something else occurred to her. "Don't tell me you were planning to bring your laptop..."
"No," he said quickly, wanting to stop her before she got worked up.
"Good. I would have had to kick your ass."
Finally the car turned off the main road onto a dirt one, through some light woods. Max could hear bullfrogs calling from a creek that ran parallel to the road. The water followed the car, as if trying to race. After half a mile, the woods cleared, opening into a stunning view of grass below and stars above.
Logan followed the dirt road halfway into the wide field before turning off the motor. "Here we are," he announced.
Max nodded and opened her door. Cool night air and the scent of dew wafted in. She stepped out but remained in place, looking up at the stars while crickets chirped. She hardly ever left the city, except when on a mission or when being pursued, and it was rare to get a chance to simply appreciate the night sky—from the ground, anyway. She had to admit, it was nice.
As he opened the door and reached for his chair in the back seat, Logan added, "I brought a blanket so we could lie on the ground and get a good view."
This seemed to rouse Max, who broke her gaze. She closed her door and stepped toward the back. Then she looked down and grunted. "Eugh, the ground's all muddy."
He paused. "Hmm. The creek must have flooded not too long ago. It does that sometimes." He used the wheel he was holding to gauge the firmness of the ground. It seemed to be navigable, so he continued assembling his chair.
"Well, I'm not lying on muddy ground if I have a choice," Max announced. "I did enough of that at Manticore."
While Logan finished what he was doing, she reached into the back seat and grabbed his backpack. She removed the blanket from it, zipped it back up, and left it on the seat. Then she marched to the front of the car and set the blanket, still folded, on the hood.
When he had transferred and shut his door, he joined her at the front. She was leaning on the hood with one hand, waiting expectantly. "Uh, Max...?"
"I've taken one mud bath this week. I'm not taking another one."
Logan blinked.
Max realized what image her choice of words had probably sparked in his mind. Quickly she added, "We can't just pop the tailgate and lie on it. We'd only see half the sky."
He shook his head to clear the mental image Max had correctly guessed. "Max, you do realize that a blanket between you and the ground means you don't get muddy."
"Yeah, until the mud soaks through and the blanket gets wet," she answered. "This'll be better. I promise."
Logan looked at the hood doubtfully. The front end was rounded, at roughly eye level, and completely without anything to grab for leverage. You just had to buy an SUV, didn't you...
"Max..."
"Come on," she urged, very nearly slipping into the pout she used on Normal, strangers, and any other male she wanted to charm. She barely caught herself in time. "We're all the way out here now. I just want to enjoy the meteor shower. Come on up and sit with me."
He sighed. This was going to be embarrassing, and under most circumstances, he would refuse. But he didn't particularly want a stiff neck, and the thought of sitting side-by-side with Max all night was enticing. If that required embarrassment...maybe it would be worth it. "Okay."
Max grinned, feeling as though she'd accomplished something.
"I need you to give me a hand here, though. Climb up." While she mounted the hood, he turned around and backed up against the bumper.
"Okay. What do you want me to do?" she asked.
He had her lift him up by the armpits until his butt was firmly planted on the hood. Then they both scooted backward until their backs rested on the windshield.
"Much better than the mud," Logan had to admit.
Max smiled at him. Then she raised her gaze to the sky. Hundreds of little pinpricks of light gleamed from the darkness. The effect was even more pronounced here than it was on the Space Needle. While the Needle was indeed high above the city, the city lights still provided a glare. Here there was nothing to interfere with the view.
"Wow..." she breathed. "What a spread."
"This was my favorite place to come as a kid. I'd just lie back and get lost in the stars."
"I can see why. It's like you can see forever."
He didn't tell her that he'd come here partly to escape the suffocating atmosphere of his uncle's house. She had enough ugly childhood memories of her own. Besides, it was true: he had enjoyed stargazing on its own merits. It was fun to recognize the various constellations, even after he'd begun to forget the names he'd learned from books. And there was something about looking at celestial bodies that reminded him just how vast the universe was, and how small he was in comparison. It always seemed to put problems in perspective.
"Oh!" Max drew in a breath at the sight of a shooting star.
"That didn't take long," Logan observed. Usually, he spent 90 percent of any given meteor shower waiting and about 10 percent actually seeing meteors.
When Max didn't respond, he turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were closed. He cocked his head slightly, wondering what she was doing.
She opened her eyes. Noticing his questioning look, she explained, "I heard somewhere that you're supposed to wish on a falling star."
"Oh. Yeah." He'd forgotten about that part. He nodded thoughtfully. "That's right." He wondered what she had wished for. Would it do any good to ask her? Did she know that telling a wish was supposed to prevent it from coming true? All superstition, he knew, but he decided not to ask. Instead he concentrated on the stars.
For a while, he and Max sat in comfortable silence.
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"They're really moving tonight," Logan eventually remarked. He was still amazed that nature was cooperating.
"It's amazing," Max murmured, her attention still on the sky. She was entranced.
He looked at her. A smile played on his lips.
Eventually she became aware that he was watching her rather than the stars. She tried to brush it off, feeling rather flattered, but soon she grew self-conscious. She hopped off the hood, feeling the need to escape his gaze. "You brought wine, right?"
"Yep. It's in the back seat."
She opened the door and rummaged through his backpack. Gloves...another sweater...Ah! Here we go. Bottle of wine, and corkscrew. She was about to zip the backpack up when a thought struck her.
"Uh, Logan..." she called. "I don't see any wine glasses."
She heard a distinct slap of hand on forehead. "Damn. I knew I forgot something."
Max lowered her lids slightly as she looked out the corner of her eye and smiled. "We could just swig from the bottle," she suggested mischievously.
"We could," Logan agreed, also smiling at the thought.
"Wait a minute, I see something," she called again. She had spotted the edge of a clear plastic package underneath the back seat. She reached for it and held it aloft in triumph. "Dixie cups!"
"So that's where those were."
Max closed the door with her foot and headed back toward the hood. "Since when do you buy Dixie cups? I thought it was all wine glasses and ceramic mugs."
Logan pretended to glare at her with indignation as she rounded the car. "I'll have you know I do use plastic every once in a while."
She grinned. "Yeah, but teeny little paper cups? This is so not you." She handed Logan the wine bottle and corkscrew and examined the package more closely. "They've even got little flowers on them."
"They're not mine," he protested, applying the corkscrew.
"Yeah, sure they're not. They just happened to be in your car. Under your back seat."
"Bling uses them at home in his bathroom." The cork pulled loose from the bottle. Logan set it down next to him on the hood, choosing to protect the car's finish by leaving the corkscrew embedded in the cork. "And he borrowed my car last week. Came back complaining about vanishing groceries. He figured the clerk had made off with them."
"Bling? Come on. He's smart enough to check the car for strays first."
"Everyone's entitled to a brain cramp now and then."
Max handed him the package of cups. "Guess you'd better check under your seat. Hope he wasn't missing anything that spoils."
"Not as far as I know." Logan removed two cups and poured wine in each while Max re-mounted the hood. She took the cup he handed her and settled back against the windshield.
"Ahh," she sighed happily. "Wine...stars...now the only thing missing is some good music."
Logan nodded, but a minute later he groaned.
"What?"
"You shouldn't have mentioned music," he complained. "Now I have 'Bobby McGee' stuck in my head."
She grinned. "So? It was a good song."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want it stuck in my head. And it's not like it has a happy ending."
For a moment Max was surprised that Logan wanted a happy endings in the songs he listened to. After all, this was the man who had long been aware of the desperation and corruption in the city—and had experienced their effects firsthand. But then she realized that it made sense after all. What was Eyes Only if not a means of restoring the city's chances for a happy ending? Besides, he was human. Maybe he wanted one for himself, too.
A second groan from Logan roused her from her thoughts.
"So sing it," she suggested. He'd hummed earlier—this might be her only chance to hear him sing. "Just skip the ending."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Only if you sing, too."
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "You first."
I should have known.
He considered changing his mind and refusing, but the song in his head really was bugging him. Maybe it would be fun to sing it with Max—if she went through with it. Cautiously, Logan took a deep breath and began the song.
To his surprise, she did join in. In fact, she was very good; he had never expected Manticore to carry singing in its curriculum. Maybe it had more to do with her extra-sensitive hearing and silky voice. Besides, he reminded himself, she hadn't just escaped Manticore yesterday. At any rate, he was tempted to trail off and just listen to her. He didn't because he knew she would stop, too.
They sang up until the last verse. When it was over, they smiled at each other.
"Pretty good for just hearing it once," he told her.
"Manticore memory. It does come in handy sometimes."
They returned their attention to the stars. The meteor shower hadn't slowed down during the interlude; if anything, it had increased in intensity.
Had Logan been pressed to predict tonight's activities a couple of days ago, he would have said, "Working." He had to admit this was better. It was calming. She had been right—it was good to take a break now and then.
Max, for her part, found her gaze drifting back to Logan. She was happy to see him relax and enjoy the moment for once. As much as he'd been through, and as much responsibility as he bore, he deserved it. The fact that he'd decided to do so with her—that he'd not only agreed to her suggestion, but taken it further—pleased her. It made her feel...appreciated. Like she mattered.
Soon he became aware of her gaze. "What?" he asked, somewhat defensively, as he turned to look at her.
"I like this," she answered with a shy smile.
"This...?"
How could she tell him what she'd been thinking? She couldn't. Even in her own head, it wasn't organized into words. So she gave him the short version. "Being out here, watching the stars with you."
He smiled and offered his cup. She clinked it with her own.
They spent the rest of the night just watching the stars.
FIN
Song lyrics are located at http: darkangelkyre. 8m. net