A/n: Sorry it took a while to get this up. I've had a bit of a relapse.

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11/11/20

Part Six:

Max had pushed one of the huge sofas back against the wall and positioned the other in front of the fireplace; to get better access to the flames while we toast our dinner, she told herself firmly. It's not that I want to sit next to Logan and stare into the fire or anything. And I turned out the lights to save gas in the generator. Just 'cos it makes this place all cosy and romantic doesn't mean it's not practical.

Logan had transferred onto the sofa and shifted his chair behind it, out of sight. So Max can bring the food through without it being in her way. Not to try and let her… well, me… forget it exists in any way, shape or form.

"First course," said Max, with a smile, as she brought it in. "Toast, and whatever you want to spread on it."

"Great," said Logan, taking a plate. He spiked a slice of bread on his toasting fork and held it out towards the fire as Max folded gracefully onto the seat beside him. "Beats the last time you cooked dinner for me."

"Hey! I'll have you know there was nothing wrong with that pasta tricoloure; I ate it myself after that oh so urgent mission we had to skip it for."

"Come on, Max, that was urgent. Those poor kids on that plane…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you coulda been nicer about it."

"I made it up to you, as I recall," he said, with a grin. "You know, I once dated a girl who was a great cook. She made all these fantastic dishes for me every time I came around."

"Oh yeah?" said Max, not sure where this was going.

"Yeah. Only I came over a little early one night and it turns out, her roommate was the one doing all the work. She'd make the meal and then leave out the back door so Beth could take all the credit."

"Really?" Max said airily. "The lengths some girls will go to to keep their claws in their man. So what did you do?"

"The right thing, of course."

"What, you forgave her and took her out for pizza?"

"No, I dumped her and dated the roommate instead. Didn't you ever wonder where I learned to cook?"

"How was that the right thing?"

"Hey, you think Cathy didn't deserve a little appreciation? "

"I guess so," said Max, rolling her eyes.

"I seem to remember Kendra leaving pretty quickly when I showed up at your place that night," he hinted. "There anything you want to tell me?"

"Yeah, actually," she admitted. "There is one thing…"

"And what might that be?"

"Your toast's burning," said Max, turning her own in the fire.

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Some time later, Logan put down his toasting fork with a sigh, licking melted chocolate off his fingers. Max was constructing her umpteenth s'more; it seemed she couldn't get enough of the sticky treat.

"You done?" She asked, eying the half dozen marshmallows left on his plate.

"Yeah," he said, pushing it towards her. "Don't wanna wind up with a marshmallow centre."

Unsuccessfully, Max did her best not to picture Logan covered in chocolate.

She turned to face the fire, hoping he'd take the blush on her cheeks as a result of warmth, not the very, very inappropriate thoughts she was having at that moment.

"Boy, could I use some chocolate body paint," said Logan.

"What?" Asked Max, startled that his thoughts had taken the same direction as hers.

"I said, boy, would you listen to all of that rain. Your super hearing on the fritz?"

"Oh, uh, no, I was just thinking about something else," she covered quickly. Max turned her attention back to her food; it was safer than watching the patterns the firelight cast on Logan's thoughtful features.

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"Well?" She asked, later, when she'd got herself under control. "Did you like your birthday gift?" Somehow she'd ended up cuddled against his side, his arm around her shoulder as she rested her head on his chest.

Logan turned at look at her, smiling softly. "Best present I've had in years," he told her. "I know I'm repeating myself, but thank you."

"Hey, it's not like it's a chore," she said. "I'm enjoying myself too."

"I can tell," he said, his dimples flashing for a moment. Playfully, Logan reached out and wiped a smear of chocolate from her cheek. Max's skin tingled at his touch.

"That's a real waste in this economy, you know," she said, looking at the dark smudge on his hand.

"Who said we were going to waste it?" Asked Logan, raising it to his own lips.

Max's higher brain functions pretty much ceased as she watched him suck the sweetness slowly from his hand. 'How does he make licking his fingers look so damn sexy?' She wondered.

"Max?" he was looking at her strangely, as if he didn't quite trust what his eyes were telling him.

She said the second thing that came into her mind, after I want you. "Happy birthday, Logan."

Crystal blue eyes met chocolate brown and suddenly neither could look away. Max leaned up as Logan bent down, and finally, their lips met. The kiss was light, tentative, neither sure if the other would pull away.

"Max…" breathed Logan, so close his breath caressed her skin. "You don't want this…"

"No, Logan," she replied in the same tone. "What I want is exactly this…" she leaned in and kissed him again, more firmly this time, her hand finding the back of his head even as his met her cheek.

And then the door swung open with a bang, accompanied by a gust of freezing wind.

The couple broke apart and looked towards the entrance, staring at the shadowy figure in the doorway.

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Chocolate covered Logan. I don't really need to ask what you're thinking, do I…