A/N Thank you for the reviews and hugs to Dani for doing an awesome job beta-ing this chapter! : )
"Love Letters"
Chapter 3
Max got Logan's wheelchair ready as Helene watched. The device was taking severe abuse in Max's hands, being deposited on the ground with a loud thump, its metal banging together.
Finally finished, Max stepped aside, cocking her hip to the side. Giving the place an evaluative sweeping glance, she airily dismissed the inviting beach behind her, which light from the nearby tower was blanketing with glitter. Shivering slightly, Max focused on the chill of the night, giving Logan an accusatory look as if the weather was his fault too.
Amused, Helene diverted Logan's attention away from Max's murderous stare. She didn't want bloodshed in her house. "You can take the ramp at the side of the house; it's on your left." Judging from the scowl on Max's pretty face, Logan was so going to pay for whatever he had done. And Helene, for her part, decided to help Max. This was so going to be fun.
Following Helene's directions, Logan started to move, but halted when his wheel came an inch in front of Max's foot. She squared her shoulders, daring him to proceed. Groaning inside, Logan waited for her to pass, his gaze following the sway of her hips as she walked away.
Feeling Logan's eyes on her, Max turned around. She raised an eyebrow, making sure that Logan knew that she hadn't missed the location of where his eyes had been before they met hers.
Impishly, Logan pointed his wheelchair at the ramp and headed for it, missing Max's reluctant burst of laughter.
Helene sighed at the darkness as they entered the cabin. "Do you mind taking Jackie for a minute while I light up some candles? I'm sorry, we have blackouts once in a while." She apologized, unaware of Max's enhanced night vision.
"It's the same in Seattle." Max looked at the baby, who had big hazel eyes and an even bigger puddle of drool on her chin, and took the match instead. "I'll light them for you."
Max easily made her way around the living room, revealing the interior of the cabin as each candle flickered to life, sparks bouncing off wooden walls and antique furniture. Mesmerized, Logan watched Max strike each match, their glow meeting her outline like a warm touch. He followed her fingers as they grazed the quilt on the couch and the ledge over the fireplace. Her lips parted, as if in awe of seeing the objects for the first time. Remembering Max's recollections of the events immediately following her escape from Manticore, Logan understood the softening in her eyes.
Blinking, Max turned to Logan, slightly confused at his presence, her mind having been in Hannah's welcoming living room seconds before.
Logan wheeled closer. "Are you okay?" He whispered.
Remembering where she was, Max nodded, wanting to share the recollection with Logan. In a similar room 10 years ago, a new life defined by freedom and anticipation had begun. Unbeknownst to her, another beginning was about to take place.
Unfortunately, Max also remembered that she was mad at Logan. She looked away quickly, unwilling to forgive just yet. With his deception, he owed her at least a week of gourmet meals. Although a night of sweet monkey love would probably do. Rolling her eyes, Max cursed her hormones. They laughed back, mocking her.
Helene curiously watched Max and Logan as they easily shifted between anger and tenderness, "Have you two eaten yet?"
Having forgotten that Helene was in the room with them, the two looked like hot ember startled to reality by a dose of cold water. "Yeah, thanks. We had something on our way here." Logan replied absently.
Helene settled the baby on the couch. "Well, if you get hungry later on, there's some food in the fridge." She waited for Max to sit before continuing, "My husband, Thomas, really wanted to meet you. But it's income tax time and he can't get away. I'll ask him to come by first thing in the morning."
Helene opened the vault that served as the center piece table. "Here's the rest of the letters I sent you, Logan. After mama's death several months ago, Thomas and I decided to rent this place. I found these while we were cleaning up."
Logan peered in, seeing stacks of folded paper wrapped in ribbons, scented like vanilla. "Have you read all of them?"
"Yeah, several times." Helene absentmindedly tapped the baby's back. "That's why nothing makes sense. Based on these letters, my father loved mama very much. He couldn't have left her like she believed. He knew she was pregnant, I don't understand how someone who wrote all these could abandon his unborn child. Something must have happened."
Max recognized the sense of desperation in Helene's voice. Up until recently, she had a similar one, trying to understand how her mother could leave her at Manticore. Parents were supposed to love their children, it was difficult to grasp how they could do otherwise.
Logan tried to reassure her, "Don't worry, we'll help you find your father. Or at least, find out what happened to him."
Taking a deep breath, "Thank you. Growing up, I convinced myself that mama and I were better off without him. He was probably a drunk bastard. But now...I don't know." Looking down and seeing her baby asleep, Helene smiled. "I'm going to take Jackie back home and leave you two to rest. We don't live very far, just a few cabins away."
Helene turned to Max, mischief playing in her eyes. "I hope you don't mind sharing a room with Logan, for tonight." She emphasized the last two words, as if phrasing a question only Max could decipher.
The corners of Max's lips lifted up. She liked Helene. In a conspiring response to the silent question, she said, "That's fine."
For Logan's benefit, Helene smiled apologetically. "I'll come back tomorrow and get the guest room ready." She wouldn't, having had Max's agreement that the sleeping arrangement would stay just the same.
"Since when does Eyes Only do missing persons, Logan?" Max scoffed, watching Helene's retreating figure get swallowed by the night.
"Since the missing person's son-in-law offered to donate a lot of money for Eyes Only." Logan said, heading for the Aztec to get their luggage, "And a free vacation." He continued with an added grin.
"I told you not to be a dope but you didn't listen." Reaching inside the car, Max dropped several bags on Logan's lap. "Now you're looking for long-lost fathers. Next thing you know, you'll be searching for some kid kidnapped by a cult group." She raised a questioning eyebrow after seeing an interestingly wrapped package, things clanking inside it. Logan pretended not to notice.
"Max, we've been through this before."
"Whatever, Logan. Whatever makes you sleep better at night." Speaking of sleep, she was sharing a bed with him tonight. Yes! And he better not think of any stupid excuse for not sharing that bed, or try to be a gentleman. 'Guest room' her ass! Thanks to Helene, she was staying in the main one whether Logan liked it or not.
After taking turns in the bathroom, Max emerged from the bedroom wearing a black tank top and a pair of sweatpants. Logan was in the living room, reading one of the letters under a candle light. Sitting beside him on the floor, Max picked one up.
~~ Sophia, ~~
~~ I urge you to meet with me. ~~
~~ Don't be afraid. I can help you. ~~
~~ Come see me. I'll be waiting. ~~
~~ Benjamin ~~
With brows meeting, Max took another letter, comparing it to the one she had just read. "Logan, these have no dates on them."
Logan was sifting through several letters, slotting each of them in the spaces between his fingers, "I'm trying to figure out the sequence, Max. Some are obviously written before the others."
Max nodded, waving the letter she had just read. "This one is more...impersonal. It's probably written earlier on in the relationship. Sophia was in some kind of trouble and Benjamin wanted to help her."
Without looking at Max, Logan took the paper, filing it between his thumb and forefinger. "Thanks."
Max thought of something else he could file between those fingers. It was warm, wet and very ready. Her heat had tapered off, but its remnants allowed her to appreciate Logan's well-built arms, barely covered by a shirt. He was fully concentrated on his task, making Max wonder what would happen if Logan studied her with the same intensity. Would he hold her with steady fingers? Would he know her every detail, the way her heart beat faster in response to his closeness? Would he pay attention, know where to touch as her cries guided him?
As usual, Logan barely noticed her. Pouting, Max slumped back against the couch. Why, oh why, did she even bother? Because she got an itch begging to get scratched, that's why!
Near dawn, Max had finished sequencing half of the letters. Logan, however, had been asleep for hours. His head was rested on the seat of his wheelchair, over his arm. Great! What was up with that? Men seemed to fall asleep when she was in the mood to get busy. First Eric, Now Logan! She was just not destined to get laid.
Unable to resist, Max poked Logan's cheek. He scrunched up his nose but did not wake up. Giggling, Max poked him again, and again, and again. But nothing. Giving up, she blew out the last of the candles and decided to take a nap, using the edge of the couch as her pillow.
Stirring, Logan blinked his eyes, adjusting to the darkness and snapping out of the strange dream he'd been having. 'Serious issues tonight, Cale.' Logan thought to himself with a yawn. 'Exactly what kind of person dreams they're a helpless worm on the pavement?' The children poking him with sticks had been the worst. Sleepily, he rubbed his cheek, which still held some memory of the poking from his dream. He looked around groggily, and Max's sleeping figure was the first thing he saw, as if a fog had lifted to reveal an ethereal spring. He grazed his thumb across her cheek, sighing.
Logan transferred to his wheelchair and lifted Max, settling her on his lap. He headed for the bedroom, trying to ignore the shivers down his spine as Max nuzzled in the space between his shoulder and neck.
Lifting the covers off the bed, he tucked Max to sleep.
Feeling the soft mattress under her, Max peeked from under the blanket, only to be disappointed as Logan wheeled back out. Her female ego prevented her from calling after him.
In the living room, Logan gathered the letters, putting them back in the vault, careful to keep them in order. Max had gotten a lot of work done while he slept. Feeling guilty, he decided to make her a nice breakfast. But the sun wouldn't be up for another hour, and the other side of the bed looked empty and lonely without him. Against his better judgment, he went back to the bedroom, slipping between the sheets next to Max.
Moments later, Logan fell asleep, hazily aware of a warm body snuggling with him. In dream land, the scent of cherries greeted him.
"Love Letters"
Chapter 3
Max got Logan's wheelchair ready as Helene watched. The device was taking severe abuse in Max's hands, being deposited on the ground with a loud thump, its metal banging together.
Finally finished, Max stepped aside, cocking her hip to the side. Giving the place an evaluative sweeping glance, she airily dismissed the inviting beach behind her, which light from the nearby tower was blanketing with glitter. Shivering slightly, Max focused on the chill of the night, giving Logan an accusatory look as if the weather was his fault too.
Amused, Helene diverted Logan's attention away from Max's murderous stare. She didn't want bloodshed in her house. "You can take the ramp at the side of the house; it's on your left." Judging from the scowl on Max's pretty face, Logan was so going to pay for whatever he had done. And Helene, for her part, decided to help Max. This was so going to be fun.
Following Helene's directions, Logan started to move, but halted when his wheel came an inch in front of Max's foot. She squared her shoulders, daring him to proceed. Groaning inside, Logan waited for her to pass, his gaze following the sway of her hips as she walked away.
Feeling Logan's eyes on her, Max turned around. She raised an eyebrow, making sure that Logan knew that she hadn't missed the location of where his eyes had been before they met hers.
Impishly, Logan pointed his wheelchair at the ramp and headed for it, missing Max's reluctant burst of laughter.
Helene sighed at the darkness as they entered the cabin. "Do you mind taking Jackie for a minute while I light up some candles? I'm sorry, we have blackouts once in a while." She apologized, unaware of Max's enhanced night vision.
"It's the same in Seattle." Max looked at the baby, who had big hazel eyes and an even bigger puddle of drool on her chin, and took the match instead. "I'll light them for you."
Max easily made her way around the living room, revealing the interior of the cabin as each candle flickered to life, sparks bouncing off wooden walls and antique furniture. Mesmerized, Logan watched Max strike each match, their glow meeting her outline like a warm touch. He followed her fingers as they grazed the quilt on the couch and the ledge over the fireplace. Her lips parted, as if in awe of seeing the objects for the first time. Remembering Max's recollections of the events immediately following her escape from Manticore, Logan understood the softening in her eyes.
Blinking, Max turned to Logan, slightly confused at his presence, her mind having been in Hannah's welcoming living room seconds before.
Logan wheeled closer. "Are you okay?" He whispered.
Remembering where she was, Max nodded, wanting to share the recollection with Logan. In a similar room 10 years ago, a new life defined by freedom and anticipation had begun. Unbeknownst to her, another beginning was about to take place.
Unfortunately, Max also remembered that she was mad at Logan. She looked away quickly, unwilling to forgive just yet. With his deception, he owed her at least a week of gourmet meals. Although a night of sweet monkey love would probably do. Rolling her eyes, Max cursed her hormones. They laughed back, mocking her.
Helene curiously watched Max and Logan as they easily shifted between anger and tenderness, "Have you two eaten yet?"
Having forgotten that Helene was in the room with them, the two looked like hot ember startled to reality by a dose of cold water. "Yeah, thanks. We had something on our way here." Logan replied absently.
Helene settled the baby on the couch. "Well, if you get hungry later on, there's some food in the fridge." She waited for Max to sit before continuing, "My husband, Thomas, really wanted to meet you. But it's income tax time and he can't get away. I'll ask him to come by first thing in the morning."
Helene opened the vault that served as the center piece table. "Here's the rest of the letters I sent you, Logan. After mama's death several months ago, Thomas and I decided to rent this place. I found these while we were cleaning up."
Logan peered in, seeing stacks of folded paper wrapped in ribbons, scented like vanilla. "Have you read all of them?"
"Yeah, several times." Helene absentmindedly tapped the baby's back. "That's why nothing makes sense. Based on these letters, my father loved mama very much. He couldn't have left her like she believed. He knew she was pregnant, I don't understand how someone who wrote all these could abandon his unborn child. Something must have happened."
Max recognized the sense of desperation in Helene's voice. Up until recently, she had a similar one, trying to understand how her mother could leave her at Manticore. Parents were supposed to love their children, it was difficult to grasp how they could do otherwise.
Logan tried to reassure her, "Don't worry, we'll help you find your father. Or at least, find out what happened to him."
Taking a deep breath, "Thank you. Growing up, I convinced myself that mama and I were better off without him. He was probably a drunk bastard. But now...I don't know." Looking down and seeing her baby asleep, Helene smiled. "I'm going to take Jackie back home and leave you two to rest. We don't live very far, just a few cabins away."
Helene turned to Max, mischief playing in her eyes. "I hope you don't mind sharing a room with Logan, for tonight." She emphasized the last two words, as if phrasing a question only Max could decipher.
The corners of Max's lips lifted up. She liked Helene. In a conspiring response to the silent question, she said, "That's fine."
For Logan's benefit, Helene smiled apologetically. "I'll come back tomorrow and get the guest room ready." She wouldn't, having had Max's agreement that the sleeping arrangement would stay just the same.
"Since when does Eyes Only do missing persons, Logan?" Max scoffed, watching Helene's retreating figure get swallowed by the night.
"Since the missing person's son-in-law offered to donate a lot of money for Eyes Only." Logan said, heading for the Aztec to get their luggage, "And a free vacation." He continued with an added grin.
"I told you not to be a dope but you didn't listen." Reaching inside the car, Max dropped several bags on Logan's lap. "Now you're looking for long-lost fathers. Next thing you know, you'll be searching for some kid kidnapped by a cult group." She raised a questioning eyebrow after seeing an interestingly wrapped package, things clanking inside it. Logan pretended not to notice.
"Max, we've been through this before."
"Whatever, Logan. Whatever makes you sleep better at night." Speaking of sleep, she was sharing a bed with him tonight. Yes! And he better not think of any stupid excuse for not sharing that bed, or try to be a gentleman. 'Guest room' her ass! Thanks to Helene, she was staying in the main one whether Logan liked it or not.
After taking turns in the bathroom, Max emerged from the bedroom wearing a black tank top and a pair of sweatpants. Logan was in the living room, reading one of the letters under a candle light. Sitting beside him on the floor, Max picked one up.
~~ Sophia, ~~
~~ I urge you to meet with me. ~~
~~ Don't be afraid. I can help you. ~~
~~ Come see me. I'll be waiting. ~~
~~ Benjamin ~~
With brows meeting, Max took another letter, comparing it to the one she had just read. "Logan, these have no dates on them."
Logan was sifting through several letters, slotting each of them in the spaces between his fingers, "I'm trying to figure out the sequence, Max. Some are obviously written before the others."
Max nodded, waving the letter she had just read. "This one is more...impersonal. It's probably written earlier on in the relationship. Sophia was in some kind of trouble and Benjamin wanted to help her."
Without looking at Max, Logan took the paper, filing it between his thumb and forefinger. "Thanks."
Max thought of something else he could file between those fingers. It was warm, wet and very ready. Her heat had tapered off, but its remnants allowed her to appreciate Logan's well-built arms, barely covered by a shirt. He was fully concentrated on his task, making Max wonder what would happen if Logan studied her with the same intensity. Would he hold her with steady fingers? Would he know her every detail, the way her heart beat faster in response to his closeness? Would he pay attention, know where to touch as her cries guided him?
As usual, Logan barely noticed her. Pouting, Max slumped back against the couch. Why, oh why, did she even bother? Because she got an itch begging to get scratched, that's why!
Near dawn, Max had finished sequencing half of the letters. Logan, however, had been asleep for hours. His head was rested on the seat of his wheelchair, over his arm. Great! What was up with that? Men seemed to fall asleep when she was in the mood to get busy. First Eric, Now Logan! She was just not destined to get laid.
Unable to resist, Max poked Logan's cheek. He scrunched up his nose but did not wake up. Giggling, Max poked him again, and again, and again. But nothing. Giving up, she blew out the last of the candles and decided to take a nap, using the edge of the couch as her pillow.
Stirring, Logan blinked his eyes, adjusting to the darkness and snapping out of the strange dream he'd been having. 'Serious issues tonight, Cale.' Logan thought to himself with a yawn. 'Exactly what kind of person dreams they're a helpless worm on the pavement?' The children poking him with sticks had been the worst. Sleepily, he rubbed his cheek, which still held some memory of the poking from his dream. He looked around groggily, and Max's sleeping figure was the first thing he saw, as if a fog had lifted to reveal an ethereal spring. He grazed his thumb across her cheek, sighing.
Logan transferred to his wheelchair and lifted Max, settling her on his lap. He headed for the bedroom, trying to ignore the shivers down his spine as Max nuzzled in the space between his shoulder and neck.
Lifting the covers off the bed, he tucked Max to sleep.
Feeling the soft mattress under her, Max peeked from under the blanket, only to be disappointed as Logan wheeled back out. Her female ego prevented her from calling after him.
In the living room, Logan gathered the letters, putting them back in the vault, careful to keep them in order. Max had gotten a lot of work done while he slept. Feeling guilty, he decided to make her a nice breakfast. But the sun wouldn't be up for another hour, and the other side of the bed looked empty and lonely without him. Against his better judgment, he went back to the bedroom, slipping between the sheets next to Max.
Moments later, Logan fell asleep, hazily aware of a warm body snuggling with him. In dream land, the scent of cherries greeted him.