Disclaimer: Dark Angel doesn't belong to me. Neither does the poem - I borrowed it from a friend.
Thanks to Danielle and Kat for their hard work beta-ing this chapter : ) And like last time, bad taste is still my fault ; )
"Love Letters"
Chapter 4
Logan woke up to the feeling of warm sun on his back. Lifting his head off the pillow, he scanned the room for Max. As expected, she was nowhere in sight. Logan let his eyes close for a second before sitting up abruptly. Wide-eyed, he looked under the covers, relieved to find his limbs intact. Whew. Of course, they would be. Max hadn't minded him sleeping in the same bed as her. He'd known she wouldn't. Had no doubt. Still, he had made sure that Bling knew what to do with the Informant Net should he face an untimely death.
In the light, the cabin came to life. Large windows framed the north and south sides of the room, colorful curtains dancing lightly to the wind's song. Trees towered behind Logan while the water extended endlessly in front of him. From the bedroom, he could see people on the boardwalk. Some were on their bicycles, others were pushing strollers, all had sweaters tied around their waists. Their unhurried stances were calming.
Logan transferred into his wheelchair, impressed. He had been unable to appreciate the view last night. In its place, he'd had quite a different view to appreciate. Max, sleeping snugly under the layers of blanket, was a sight to behold.
Out of habit, Logan reached for the rumpled sheets to straighten them out, then stopped. Tilting his head to the side, he tried to figure out why the unmade bed looked just right. It exuded comfort and peace despite the obvious disarray. Shrugging, Logan let it be and got dressed. He had slept longer than intended and wanted to start sorting out the letters as soon as he could. After he made Max's breakfast, of course.
"Max." Logan rolled to the kitchen, his best bet as to her location. She wasn't there. A note, however, was sitting at the bottom of a can that had the word 'CAFÉ' written on the label. He sniffed the enticing smell of grounded coffee beans before taking the piece of torn up paper bag from underneath it.
Logan squinted his eyes, barely able to read what he guessed was Max's handwriting. It had to be, otherwise he would have to believe that Max had commissioned the chicken he had spotted in the neighbor's backyard to write the note.
Logan,
I'm just checking out your friend's spread.
I'll be hungry when I get back : p
Max
Chuckling, Logan crumpled the paper and threw it into the empty wastebasket. He inspected the cupboards and refrigerator, finding some bread, milk, butter, orange juice, eggs, sugar and cheese. With a nod to himself, he decided on French toast.
Carrying the ingredients to the table, Logan's peripheral vision caught Max's note in the garbage. After a heartbeat of hesitation, Logan picked it up, flattened out the creases and folded the paper in half. He then put it in the pocket of his pants, smiling. After all, it wasn't everyday that he got a note from his genetically engineered cat burglar.
***
As soon as she entered the cabin, Max inhaled the scent of sweet, warm bread. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched Logan fry some gooey-looking mixture. She hoped breakfast didn't taste as bad as it looked, though just as good as it smelled. The gooey thingy. Not Logan. She knew he tasted better than he looked. And he was looking mighty yummy at the moment.
"Good morning." Max said in a chipper tone.
Logan grinned up at her. "You ever notice how cats always seem to turn up around meal time?"
"I do have feline DNA, you know. It just makes sense." Max pulled herself onto the counter. "What are you feeding me?"
"Some French toast," he said, turning off the burner and offering her a slice.
Max took a bite, giving Logan a smile of approval as she chewed.
Logan's heart did a victory dance, as it did every time Max complimented his cooking. Albeit words of praise from her wouldn't mean much since she could burn water, demonstrated while they were cooking Pasta Tricolore one evening. But still. "Mind grabbing me another plate?" He asked, pouring both of them a cup of coffee.
Max balanced the large plate heaping with French toast on her lap, "I thought this was all for me." When Logan narrowed his eyes, she added, "If I share, do you think Santa will shell out and get me some motor oil this Christmas?" She patted the spot next to her.
Accepting Max's invitation, Logan lifted himself up with ease, sitting on the counter beside her, their thighs touching. He couldn't feel it, but seeing any part of her body pressed against his was...nice. "He just might," he replied indulgently.
Using their fingers, Max and Logan shared his delicious creation, talking about the boats and locals Max had encountered during her walk. They managed to finish everything, including the last morsel that Max sucked from her sticky fingers.
"Thanks, that was great." Max jumped down, putting the dishes in the sink and washing them. She hummed as she scrubbed, bubbles playing on her hands.
Logan received a quick smile when Max noticed he was watching her. Whoever thought that doing housework was boring and plain was wrong. Very wrong.
"Hello?" A male voice called out with a knock on the door.
"I'll get that," Logan offered. He transferred into his wheelchair and headed for the living room.
"Well, I'll be damned! Logan Cale, it is you." A man with dark hair and hazel eyes shook Logan's hand enthusiastically, leaning down to give him a bear hug.
Pleasantly surprised, Logan grinned. "Nicholas! Your family said you passed away. I knew you were too much of an ass to go down quick and quiet. What did you do this time?"
"Long story." Nudging Logan, he said with a grin of his own, "But nothing like all the trouble you and I used to get into. Running from girls, chasing after them. More involving the latter thought, right?" In a more serious tone, he indicated the wheelchair. "How did this happen?"
"Another long story."
Nicholas nodded with understanding. "I can't believe this. Eyes Only said that he'd be sending someone named Logan Cale, and I thought there is no way it could be you. Not Logan whose only concern is getting the ladies to bed!" As if on cue, Max stepped out from the kitchen. "Ahh...and things have not changed. You always did manage to catch the best of them," Nicholas winked at Max who smiled sweetly back.
"Max, this is my good friend from high school, Nicholas Jacobs. Nick, this is Max."
"Nice to meet you, Max." He kissed her on both cheeks. "It's Thomas Thery now. I needed to change identities several years ago. You two work for Eyes Only, you know how it goes. Listen, Logan. I have to go to work, but I'll see what I can do about taking the afternoon off tomorrow." He gave Logan a brotherly punch on the arm. "This is great, it'll be just like old times!"
The two men said their good-byes, promising each other a testosterone-filled reunion with lots of booze, loads of deep-fried food, and a couple of pretty ladies. Of course, Thomas had hastily added, they were talking about Helene and Max.
Max laughed at that, having immediate affection for Thomas. He reminded her of Logan the first night she met him. He looked good, he knew it, and he worked it.
"So Logan, were you and your peeps all arrogant jerks with inflated egos back in the day?" Max asked.
He pretended to think about it for all of three seconds before responding. "Pretty much."
Max shook her head. "I'm not even gonna ask. Anyway, what have you got planned for today?"
"I'm going to see if I can find out anything from those letters about the identity of Helene's father. Something other than his name."
"Okay." Max headed for the bedroom, leaving Logan in the living room to do his work. She looked around, tossing the blankets on the bed, finally finding the towel she was looking for. She wrapped it around her waist after changing into a black one-piece bathing suit.
Max frowned at the disorderly room. Logan was probably going to think that she was a slob since his penthouse was always so neat. But somehow, the unmade bed and her clothes mixed with Logan's on the floor looked perfectly right. She smiled and left it as it was.
Logan's eyes widened at the sight of Max's attire. Or the lack of it. "What are you doing?" He asked, successfully sounding like she had no effect on him.
Max silently riled. Hair dripping wet and a towel barely covering her breasts didn't work, (if the time when she had been splattered with mud after escaping from bad guys shooting at her in the airfield was anything to go by) and the black bathing suit was apparently not working either, with Logan responding only with slight annoyance. Max was one step away from plastering a sign on her forehead that said 'Hot, sexy mama. Yours if you want me.' "Having a vacation," she snapped.
"We have work to do."
"Yeah, and what do you think I was doing while you snoozed your butt last night?" She shot back, crossing her arms and taking a defensive stance.
"Ummm..."
"That's right, Logan. I was working. I need a break so I'm out!"
"Fine, I'll just wait here for Helene while I figure these letters out." He muttered, focussing hard on the letters in order to stop himself from following her.
Max snickered, purposely forgetting to tell Logan that he would be waiting in vain for Helene's arrival. She wasn't going to arrange a second bedroom today or any other day.
~ My Dear Sophia, ~
~ These thoughts came to me the night I met you. ~
~ I was afraid that you changed your mind. ~
~ That they caught you, or scared you into coming to see me. ~
~ I'm glad they didn't. ~
A night full of promise
I arrive on time to have my heart stolen
By an angel that ever since has me falling
At first glance I see her round the corner
Through the glass I know immediately it is her
Such innocence and beauty
I'm amazed at what stands before me
A smile that makes me thank God I can see
I know that my life has changed
My heart has broken free from its chains
I feel like I've known her my life
I want to save her from her bonds
Instead, she rescues me from mine
~ Love, Benjamin ~
Logan looked out the window and saw Max sprawled on her stomach, sharing a large umbrella with a guy who hadn't stopped staring at her since the second she had walked on the beach. The only consolation Logan got was that Max paid no attention to her new admirer, even as he attempted several times to start a conversation. Logan saw Max politely nod but her attention was on the book she was reading.
An hour later, Logan decided to seek out Helene. It appeared that she was not going to show up as promised and he had a few questions for her.
Besides, he was barely getting any work done. The sight of Max sunbathing was way too distracting.
A/N Hi : ) Please let me know what you think of the poem. If I don't hear protests, I'll continue borrowing my friend's stuff. I don't want to torture you all with my poor attempts at writing poetry. ; )