Disclaimers and A/N: Please see Chapter 1 for Challenges info and other details.

THANKS as always for reading. Reviews and comments – pro, con, in-between– are helpful and the only way I can tell what you think. Lots of hits and few reviews can make a body nervous...

And Happy New Year, everyone...

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Winter's Chill

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XXII.

The kitchen work bar was strewn with all manner of ingredients, clutches of vegetables and containers of unknowable Cale concoctions, small tins of dried herbs or the rare sprig of a fresh one. Logan worked his magic with knife and whisk, his eyes mostly on the work before him but a small, insistent smile refusing to disappear...

He heard the water turn off as Max finally finished lingering in the shower. He'd felt a real mix of emotions as she wheedled him to join her: a mean craving to do so, fired by his far- too- active imagination's work on the ideas of soap and water and Max mingling before his eyes – let alone under his hands ... but even stronger was the embarrassment that still threatened to overpower him, the thought of his form brightly lit by bathroom lights, half of him unresponsive to the very same soap and water and Max...

But she'd understood; he told her, quite honestly, that there was nothing more he'd rather do, but he needed to be fortified a bit more under the covers to be ready for it. And she'd been sweet and sexy and so damned reassuring about it all he'd almost tossed her into the shower right then and there...

He reached for another fistful of broccoli and pared it down, dropping the bite sized pieces into a bowl of the mixed vegetables he'd managed to find in his refrigerator, then moved to whisk the dip again and taste, testing whether the herbs had started infusing their flavors into the creamy mix, reaching back for the knife...

As he pulled his finger from his mouth he looked up to see he had an audience: Max had come out from her shower, this time in another of his t-shirts, a black, shorter one – not that he'd chosen a shorter one on purpose, he assured himself – smelling of his soap and shampoo, hair towel dried and gently curling ... padding along in bare feet...

Damn! That knick hurt worse than the first one had...

"Butterfingers..." Max laughed, in a sultry voice, and she lifted his injured finger to her lips to kiss it gently, then took the other one, the one that had just been in his mouth, and imitated his 'tasting' action, but in slow... suggestive... movements. "Isn't this something I should be doing?"

Breath knocked out of him for a moment, he finally managed to breathe again and, more oxygen to his brain, he saw the twinkling of fun in her eyes. "Seems you're doing plenty, as it is." He sat back to consider the grinning cause of his mishaps, admiringly, and lifted an eyebrow. "You mess with the cook too severely, it will cut down on your meal availability for a while..."

"I'll keep that in mind," she teased again, and this time came closer to the corner of the work table and leaned over a rare uncluttered spot to kiss him, long and sweetly ... he let the knife in his hand drop to the table, quietly, and he leaned into her kiss, raising his hand to palm her jawline, her neck...

Moments passed before she broke the spell, chuckling a little that she was able to have this effect on the one man she actually wanted to respond like this. At the sound of her laughter, his mouth drew up into a rueful smirk. "Max, I'd never have taken you for a tease..." His voice was warm, his own pleasure clear. "At least – not this overt about it." Max wanting to get him aroused again? The thought was intoxicating...

"Just hadn't found the right target ... or, when I did..." she leaned back in, nipping at his lip again, "I wasn't sure the time was right, yet..." She finally pulled away to gauge his reaction, and was comforted by the light she saw in his eyes. "Your mom was right, maybe, that the universe is on schedule?"

"I wouldn't have minded if it had hurried up a little..." He gazed at her, unmoving, the beautiful face and sparkling eyes holding him captive, until she blinked and laughed again.

"C'mon! Chop! Mix!" she directed. "I've gone way too long without sustenance!"

"Whose fault is that?" Max was delighted that Logan was finally able to joke back and maybe admit, even tacitly, that she found him attractive, too, keeping him in bed the whole morning. "You're actually slowing down progress now, in that t-shirt..." He pointed to her lovely form with the knife he'd picked up again, then turned back to start in on a pepper, watching his work, but unable to relax his mouth from its pleased, sated smile...

"You picked it out..."

His grin twitched even a bit higher, but he didn't respond to the bait, instead nodding toward her bare feet on the stone-slab floor. "If your feet are cold, there are plenty of socks in the dresser..." He offered.

"No, I'm good. But what about you – should you put some on? You're the one who just tried to freeze off your toes."

He glanced down at his own feet, pink and healthy and looking none the worse for their chill. "Nah, they're fine. Besides," he finally looked back up at her, eyes merry, "I don't plan on their being out of bed all that much longer."

She grinned in return, but only for a moment, when her face shifted into an attitude of listening, with another, different smirk immediately in its place. "Company's coming," she announced. "Sounds like Bling. Maybe I'd better go hide..."

With a glance to his upended kitchen he called after her disappearing form, "it's not like he won't guess there's a hungry mouth waiting close by, with all this..."

Her head popped back around from the hall to say, "well, I'm not exactly dressed for visitors, am I?" She paused, "you guys have something scheduled?"

"No, I thought he wouldn't be back in town til tomorrow – he's probably just stopping by to remind me to take my vitamins..." Logan smirked.

Her face lit up with a beam of lustful amusement before she disappeared, calling, "Tell him I'll make sure you take plenty..."

...and the sound of Max closing the bedroom door coincided perfectly with the sound of Bling's key in the front door lock, and his disarming the alarm system...

XXIII.

Bling was relieved that the penthouse seemed intact and quiet, but in the circumstances, had not really been too worried about a break-in. Sam's concerned words brought the therapist directly here, and when even Logan's "private" number wasn't answered, he started stewing in earnest. He hadn't seen Max's bike and wondered if she'd really leave Logan in that condition, refusing to start inventing more problems until he took a look around. Coming into the penthouse and hearing familiar sounds from the kitchen, Bling was both relieved and disconcerted to find the "patient" at his work bench, surrounded by food...

"Logan..." He managed.

"Hey, Bling." The hands didn't stop their work, nor did the green eyes look up to him. Bling frowned.

"'Hey, Bling?' That's all you've got to say?"

"Yeah..." Logan drawled, uncertain, then remembered, "Oh, no; sorry. How was the trip?" He asked pleasantly, still paring carrots, still not making eye contact. "Did you just get in?"

"That's not what I meant..." Bling watched Logan carefully, weighing what he saw, and growing more uneasy about his reaction. This wasn't the 'usual' Logan at all...

"Oh." Logan stopped working for a moment, to consider, and looked up, but dared only the briefest glance at his friend before looking back to his task. "Did Sandra get her sister married off alright?"

Bling shook his head, frustrated. "Logan, I stopped at the hospital when I got back in town just now..." He took a second look at the items spread along the counter, and abruptly interrupted his own thoughts to ask, exasperation finally surfacing, "What are you doing?"

Logan surveyed the work table himself, then glanced up to grin at his therapist. "Picnic," he beamed – and went back to his work.

"Logan, I talked to Sam – he said something about hypothermia, but that you never got back to him after last night." The man's discomfort at matters was giving way to greater frustration –and even more worry – for his complex client, the one he'd sworn to keep safe and healthy. "He called you – I called, a little while ago – and all we got was your machine."

"Oh. Right..." Logan tried to suppress his insistent happiness, realizing that Bling really had a reason to have some concerns, and not proud that he'd caused both Bling and Sam to worry. The jig would be up soon, and Logan had apologies to make. He started to speak, but Bling was already going on...

"...and I get here to find you building a picnic." Bling pulled out his phone. "Maybe Sam can see you this afternoon..."

Logan glanced up at his trainer and finally laughed softly, "No, really, Bling; I'm fine." He looked back to the spread he'd prepared, the dip and vegetables, some pita and cheese, even the cold roast from the other night, and laughed at the picture it painted. "Really." Even he might have a hard time believing himself, in the circumstances...

"A picnic?" Bling demanded.

"It was a request..."

Both men looked up to the very feminine, apologetic voice from the hall, where Max stood, still in Logan's t-shirt but more demurely outfitted in a pair of his sweatpants now too, the oversized, bloused- up fabric adding to the picture. She shrugged and pushed off to come into the kitchen.

"Kinda mean to make him work so soon after freezing himself, I know. But he's doing okay, Bling, I promise."

Bling's eyes narrowed, a whole new set of suspicions there now. "And you were hungry..."

"Always" she laughed. She looked to Logan and apologized, "I'm sorry to come interrupt your smooth handling of things, without your asking... but he just wasn't buying it." Seeing Logan's delighted amusement at her appearance, Max looked up to Bling and, buoyed with how well the 'winsome female' routine worked on Logan, decided to try a variant of the same on the therapist. "He was out of it for a while, Bling, but he really is much better. I stuck around, you know, to be sure he was okay... and we brought him up to temp just fine here. I've had some training too, you know – and I used standard field technique to warm him up, just as soon as we got back..."

"'Field technique.'" Bling repeated. "Remind me to try that one on Sandra..."

"I'd certainly recommend it," Logan quipped, eyebrows wagging.

"You're not helping." Max looked over to Logan, trying to look miffed but failing at it. Logan chuckled and went back to his work. "I swear, nothing but warming up and sleep, last night 'til this morning. Sam said as long as he was back to his normal self by morning, he'd be cleared for ... well, you know... cleared."

Logan chortled.

Bling finally drew a deep breath, eyebrows lifting way up on his brow in a look of surrender, and shook his head, at some level pleased that the two had finally, it seemed, bowed to the inevitable in their relationship, but wishing it hadn't been so close on the heels of hypothermia. "Fine. But you won't mind if I at least check your temp and blood pressure?"

Logan looked up at him with a long-suffering look of discomfort, as Max said "'course not." Then, realizing what she'd done, she actually colored and stammered, "I mean ... if you wanted to take mine. Logan can decide for himself..."

The moment brought quick laughter from Logan, melting his discomfort, pleased that she was working to maintain his dignity – or at least trying to remember it. "Hell, check us both." He chortled. "After all, you came all this way..."

XXIV.

Max had wandered into the workout room behind Logan and Bling, Logan refusing to let the trappings of medical intervention sully his beloved cooking space. As Bling slipped the small finger cuff on Logan's index finger and stuck the thermometer's cone in Logan's ear, Max came around to ask, "Bling, when I went out to get Logan, I had to leave my bike out in the bushes by the road. It's about twenty miles out, on the way toward Logan's cabin. If you could drive me out there to get my bike, it will keep Logan from running back out for another dose of rain and sleet so soon."

"Max, I'm fine," Logan protested, getting a dark look from Bling for fidgeting. "Besides..." he pouted a little for her. "I hate to see you leave, just now..."

"Yeah, you'll be late for the picnic," Bling drawled.

"You're going to have to decide what you want," Logan's eyebrows raised as he looked back up at his therapist, affecting an attitude that reminded Bling way too much of Sandra's 'teacher' mode. "After months of telling me to get 'back to things' ... and even a few of those months," he stole a guilty look toward Max, to see if she was listening. She was ... but he went on, bravely, "...you suggested that I ... make some efforts toward ... hooking up with Max. Here I'm making a picnic, and now you're taking tones..."

Bling looked at the man, seeing the happiness that lightened his eyes and cleared his brow, and finally sighed. "Max, what do you really think?" Bling was having a hard time remaining stern. "Is all this the hypothermia, or is he actually just relaxing – and being insufferable about it?"

She grinned, glancing over the subject of their discussion, and drawled, "I'm pretty sure he's over the hypothermia. What this is, I'm not even gonna cast a vote."

"Pay back," Logan muttered, grin never easing. "What else can I do, if he's always right?" He finally raised his eyes to look at Bling squarely, his appreciation clear and unashamed. "And I don't know anyone to whom I owe more..."

Bling met the look with his own, understanding fully all that Logan meant, moved both by what had happened to the man, what had gotten through – and that he would share it with him, even in front of Max, who stood by, her own smile soft and understanding. Though it took a moment, Bling finally drew himself up to lift his chin in a bit of a challenge and suggest, "bet you wish you'd paid attention, back when you had a chance."

Logan grinned roguishly. "Why do you think I was so quick to ask you to come work for me?"

Max's eyebrows lifted at that, and she looked up to Bling. "Sounds like the time to ask for a raise."

"No ... it sounds like the time for me to leave." He looked at the two, wearing expressions of happiness and comfort he'd never seen on either of them before. He turned to Logan, with a smirk. "You gonna be back to business tomorrow, or do I need to call ahead?"

"Back to business, I'm afraid, unless I can convince Max to take the day off."

"Max would lose her job for sure," she murmured, eyes only for Logan, "but I'll see if I can't get away for lunch." In the next moment, though, she looked back up to Bling and said, "do you mind running me out now?"

"Not a problem. And better than this one going back out in it."

"I'll just be a second..."

As Max darted back toward the bedroom, Bling looked back at his charge, the last bit of skepticism still apparent. "You're sure you're feeling alright?"

"I feel terrific. There are a lot of things I'm not sure about yet, but how I feel isn't one of them. Not only physically, and not only Max, but ... selfishly ... that thing about the mind being the primary sexual organ..." He shook his head, looking up to Bling, still amazed.

"Powerful stuff," Bling agreed.

"I think I'm going to have a lot of questions in the next few days," Logan admitted ruefully.

"Well, as you said – it's why you asked me to come work for you." Bling was finally grinning, Logan's success with this hurdle feeling as good as if it were his own.

"Yeah." Logan smiled, boyishly. "Thanks, Bling," he heard Max coming and continued, "for running Max out to get her bike, and ... for everything, all of it."

"Not a problem, man." The trainer shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys. "I stick around for the entertainment factor." He looked at Max and lifted his eyebrows. "I'll meet you in the hall."

As Bling moved off, Max turned back to Logan, a knee sliding along his thigh as she settled lightly on his lap and looped her arms around his neck. "You really do have to give him a raise," she glowed.

"Done." He met her lips softly, and when they broke the kiss, he whispered, "hurry back."

"As soon as I make sure Bling gets back into town, too," she agreed. "I'll be here faster than you can take that shower you wanted..."

"You're on." He let his hand trail along her thigh as she backed off his lap. "The picnic will be waiting..."

"As long as you're there too..." she leaned over for a final peck on his brow.

"Try to stop me..." he dared...

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