Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1.

A/N: Continuing the responses to assorted DAR Challenges, as further explained at the end of Chapter 1. Thanks for your continuing interest and encouragement. Added thanks for those who have stopped by to review – now and always, it is appreciated.

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Winter's Chill

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Max watched the defeated figure of Logan as he struggled with his demons and her words and the lingering aftereffects of the hypothermia that had threatened him only hours before. Unfair, to press him now, when he wasn't back to his usual self yet? Maybe. But they had bridged the physical gap that had lay between them as she held him close and he, in his frozen haze, had responded – and Max was not going to let it go, not now, not anymore. Propelled by a sudden urgency that they face whatever this was that had grown between them, she had dared to voice the unspeakable and offer the truth to Logan even more directly than it had ever been thrown up to her by Original Cindy: ...I think it's time we finally admit the big one...

And he'd succumbed; he'd asked; he wouldn't resist her: Admit...what?

She'd drawn a breath and looked him in the eye, crossing that final line of no return: That we are 'like that...'

XI.

The silence between them tore at her, but the anguish she saw in him was even worse. At her words, the compelling green eyes flickered with the pain of the impossible and he whispered, "No, Max..."

Her chest burned. It wasn't what he was supposed to say...

"...we can't be."

Max swallowed as her mind sped ahead, grasping at the smallest hope, refusing to believe his words as she watched him look away. He said 'can't' ... not 'aren't' ...not 'won't.' She forced herself to breathe evenly – to remember her "mission." Shifting now to bring herself face to face with him, in an attempt to bring his eyes back up to meet hers, she found an expression of grief and impossibility there that she knew her words had engendered in him. As Logan slowly looked back up to Max, his eyes begged her to understand, without his having to lay it all out for her, unvarnished and shameful. The torment he bore tore at her, but if there was to be any hope ... and healing ... she knew she had to make him say it all... As gently as she could, trying with all she had to keep her own emotions in check, she asked, "Why not?"

He dropped his eyes again, his defenses powerful, still stronger than her ability to make him see past his perceived limitations. "More reasons than either of us can count," he murmured, his voice sounding almost resentful as he fought to find his way back behind the protective wall so recently torn away from his heart.

"I can count pretty damn high," she insisted, looking back into the suffering eyes, hoping that what he saw in hers was caring and acceptance and ... Love. She wanted him to feel the love she knew she felt for him but was at a loss to express, wanted him to feel as safe as he could be, to speak the words he'd dreaded this long ... the words she now craved to hear from him. She hoped he would feel loved... but also hoped, with a sudden hesitation, that she hadn't mistaken his feelings for her. Before pressing any further, she added, "Logan ... if I was wrong ... if you don't want this, don't want to try ... just tell me, without pulling any punches or any half-assed attempts to 'let me down easy...'"

The abrupt laugh she heard from him was strangled; she had no idea at this point what it meant. "It's not that..." he managed.

Her face burned with shame as her emotions took another abrupt turn. "It's okay, Logan; my god, we're worlds apart and if you don't feel the same way ... it's better to know now." Words out in the air between them now, at least, had to be a little easier; one way or the other it was on the table finally, even if it meant that his dreams were nothing, and that she'd merely fooled herself into thinking that there might be something there between them...

...so why was she suddenly shivering...?

"Max, you are my world..." She looked up at his words, surprised, and saw the hopelessness he felt even amid his admission. "How could you not know that?"

She found she could breathe again. "So then ... we can deal," she tried. At his expression of despondency, unsure why it remained and even more at a loss to know how to make it disappear, she urged, "it's where we start, Logan..."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Love conquers all? I used to think that. I used to believe it. I can't tell you how much I wanted to believe..."

She'd heard cynicism from him before but not like this; it was more akin to the despair that would have driven him to take his own life, had the fates and Mrs. Moreno not intervened. Max shuddered again to see it; realizing that it still lay within him, under the surface, this surrender to defeat ... and feeling a thread of panic that she might be closer to losing him than she'd imagined, the soldier in her took charge for a full, frontal assault as the woman who loved him needed desperately to break through. Was the world killing him slowly with kindness, allowing him to hold on to the belief that he was 'different?' Was she, in her own constant reminders that she was different, too? She tried, forcefully, "So did I. And you know what? It's true..."

Despite his skepticism, he was listening, she thought – he still wanted to believe. But he seemed programmed to fight it, and finally shook his head, his words of self-directed anger harsh in her ears. "You said it yourself. We're worlds apart. I'm half again as old as you are, a medical case study of regimens and therapy, all going nowhere. After only a little while of it you'd hate it here, being tied down with all this, with me, with someone more than a decade older and half dead as it is, someone who can't give you what you..."

In an explosion neither saw coming, she was in his lap suddenly, her frantic kisses cutting off his thoughts, stopping his hated words, her lips attacking his in a sudden rush of need and denial and force as the white hot tears coursed down her cheeks in her rage at the Cales, who did this to him, at Manticore, who did this to her, at Bruno Anselmo and the fates and society and simple chronology and everything that made their union anything other than easy and perfect ... she pawed at him fiercely, as if trying to crawl inside of him, as if she could force his understanding that he was valued, cherished, that he was more compelling and sexy and desirable and worthy than any man-child her age, than any souped up stud they'd've thrown at her, than any other human on the planet...

Her tears fell across their lips in her frenzied attack; Logan tasted salt-tinged moisture as she ran her tongue along his lips and her mouth begged his response. In stunned silence, he sat breathless as the volcano of energy attacked him, the beginning sobs rattling her breathing, and the woman he'd loved for so long grabbed at him and pulled him close in arms more powerful than even he'd imagined, words attempted and broken, far more feverishly than when she'd interrupted his plans of suicide. His own eyes filled as he began to understand – and even believe – what it might mean... "Max..." He murmured, trying to soothe her, "Shhh..."

"Logan, I can't lose you!" Her words were out before she could consider them, and with the admission she felt herself shiver yet again, feeling emotions she realized she'd never felt before and had no clue how to understand. All this – the tears and panic and desperate need to connect with Logan – percolated in, as did her perception of the moment – in his lap, in his arms, not exactly remembering how she'd gotten there... She felt a ripple of fear that the emotions she felt could so thoroughly overtake her, stronger than her training: her need and love for Logan was as powerful, and took over her reason as completely as did her need for physical satisfaction when she was in heat...

"You won't..." Her panic had apparently gotten through to Logan, too; his self-absorbed torment of moments before had given way to calm, his magical green eyes carrying some concern for her, but mostly his own love and longing for her, not sure that it was wise but argument put aside for the moment. "I'm right here..." As one strong arm circled her form, snuggled up close on his lap, his free hand slipped up to cradle her head, softly tangling in her hair and caressing the nape of her neck, soothingly. "I'm not going anywhere..."

"Logan ... I..." She pulled back just enough to search his eyes for the rest, for his reservations and his assessment of what it meant to have a lab-rat in his lap. What she saw was a soft, wry smile of reassurance.

"Don't try to talk, for now..." He counseled wisely ... selfishly. He'd known those moments of admission, too, made in the heat of emotion, and fleetingly mourned the thought of Max saying things in her tears that she might not mean, later... After several long moments in his arms, she began to relax, and breathed more easily, eyes closing at the feel of his arms around her, the strength she found in him. Sensing that she'd calmed, Logan brushed her temple with his lips before murmuring softly, "You okay?"

She looked back up at him and was surprised to feel her eyes spill over again with tears, the emotional torrent beyond her understanding. She merely nodded, and he reached up to brush away the moist trails on her cheek.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered.

"Why?" She asked immediately, her feelings for him laid as bare as they themselves had been, each in the other's arms, moments before. Max began to believe that this was the more embarrassing. "I'm the one who lost it all; Logan, I don't know what all that was, but..."

He chuckled, a soft, sad sound, and brushed back her hair, speaking as if she hadn't tried to interrupt his thoughts with her own apology. "...for making this so tough on you." He drew his own shaky sigh and the smile remained, although a little haunted. "I'd give you the world if I could, Max..."

"You have..." she insisted, irrationally.

He shook his head. "Then I've given you its seedy underbelly." He let his fingers trace along her cheek, tenderly. "Max... I'm not going to patronize you by saying you're too young to know what you want yet. I don't believe that myself. But I do know you've been in hiding so long, or on the run, that you've never been able to kick back and enjoy life, to know what all can be out there for you. I don't want you to make the mistake of tying yourself down here... with me..." he dared, "before you have a chance to see it all, and be sure it's what you want."

She lay against his shoulder for long moments before she finally found her voice. "Maybe not having two thousand dollar watches to wear at cafes or vacations to plan allows a person to see a little more of the world than you can see from a yacht." She shifted in his lap to lift her eyes back to his, lifting her chin in a small show of defiance. "Between my first decade and my second, I've gotten to see quite a bit of the human condition in this world, maybe more of the seedy underbelly than the large life you've seen, but enough of both. Everything I've seen – every act of kindness or cruelty, or of generosity or greed – makes me more certain of what I know – and what I want. And all of it makes me more sure that I don't want to live my life without you this close, just like this."

Logan swallowed, his breathing again forced into a pattern of slow, deep breaths, scrambling for calm. "I suppose..." He finally drawled, slowly, "that counts for something..."

"It counts for a lot." Max nudged him, trying a stern look outside, trying for balance within...

He wavered at first, but then allowed himself a grin, to see it, and nodded, his voice gentle. "Ah, see? The other Max is back... I didn't think it would be too long."

She shivered again, this time at the look of love for her, in his eyes ... and dared to ask the simplest, most profound question of all: "What now, Logan?"

He looked at the exquisite woman in his lap, her chocolate eyes shining in love and desire for him, and couldn't help but wonder the same thing, himself. After a moment of looking deep into the warm expression, he leaned to her to kiss her softly, lingering a moment or two, before he leaned back, and drew a deep breath. With a soft smile, lifted an eyebrow, his voice a whisper. "My guardian angel tells me I just fought off hypothermia..." Slowly slipping his hands from around her, he dropped his hands to his wheel rims and began to rock them, just a little, his eyes not leaving hers. "And that I'm in need of recuperation..." The green eyes began to sparkle with a new light of hope and lightness not there for many, many months now... and Logan Cale smiled his most dazzling, sexy smile. "So I think that... for now ... I'll hop back into bed..."

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