JAM PONY

2:00 P.M.

Max slid to a stop on her bike before dismounting and walking her bike into the building, only to lean against a nearby railing. The morning had already flown by and all she really wanted to do was make sure she was ready for the upcoming trip. She knew Logan was usually good at taking care of things, but she hadn't talked to him since the night before, and she knew she had to clear her time off with Normal if she was going to have a job waiting for her upon her return. She didn't particularly like her job, or her hard ass employer, but it was easier than looking for something new. Not to mention since she had slowed down on the thieving, a steady pay cheque had become more important.

She searched the milling crowd for Normal, clipboard in hand. But when it appeared he was nowhere near his counter she let out a sigh and returned it to her messenger bag. Maybe she'd take a break in front of the tube. Nothing would get his attention faster, she thought with a grin. Unfortunately someone she wasn't looking for chose that moment to pop up in a nervous bid for her attention.

"Hey," A familiar blond squeaked, excitedly.

"Jenna," Max said, with a forced smile that came off as more of a grimace than anything. Could the girl not take a hint? Still, she felt for her, and softened her annoyance with a quick assurance that she wasn't completely heartless. "How've your runs been?"

"Alright," Jenna responded, and for the first time her grin fell. Kind of. "I've been having a hard time finding my way around," she admitted.

"Takes time," Max told her with a shrug, heading back to her bike. Package or no, she was going for a ride to clear her head. And to shake her newfound shadow.

"I know," Jenna giggled, following her closely. "But what I really need is for someone to show me around, you know, teach me the shortcuts. You know the neighborhoods well, do you think you could show me?"

"No can do. I have a full schedule," Max responded, slinging her bag over her shoulder and grasping the handles of her bike. "Sketch's been salivating since the minute you walked through the door. If you asked him I'm sure you could even get a free lunch out of it."

"But Max, I really wanted you to show me around," Jenna begged. She sent her a pouting look but before she could say anything else their boss appeared in front of them, causing them both to draw up short, and exacerbating Max's tense posture.

"Don't take it to heart little missy, every one of these degenerates is just like the other," Normal said, stopping in front of them and throwing each of them a package.

"Normal, just the man I was looking for," Max said with fake kindness, as she leaned her bike against her hip and caught the perfectly square, paper wrapped package. "Listen I might have some family stuff coming up, so if I don't show up for the next few days..."

"Save it," Normal said, cutting her off and pulling a frown from her. "Your friend Logan was already in here singing me a different tune. As long as I meet my overhead and you're not trying to weasel any sick time, I don't give two licks what you two do for the next week."

"Oh," Max said, surprised that Logan really had taken care of it. "When did he do that?"

"Early this morning, probably while you were still in bed. Used to be that people got up with the sun and didn't sleep until it was down again. I'll say this about your friend, he might keep questionable company, but at least he understands a good work ethic and sleeping schedule. Just one week though! If you're not back here bright and early Monday morning you're looking for another job." He informed her. "Bip, bip!" With this he was off to harass another group of hard working messengers.

"Thanks!" Max cried after him, so unsettled by how easy it had been that she didn't even roll her eyes when he called her questionable company. She slid the package into her bag and then looked up to see Jenna staring at her expectantly. "What?"

"Is Logan your boyfriend?" She asked.

"No, just a friend," Max replied in an exasperated voice.

"So you don't have a boyfriend then?" Jenna asked, perking up a bit.

"Cindy!" Max yelled in a panic, before turning to see her friend over her shoulder, staring at her with a crooked eyebrow. Probably thinks I should use my indoor voice, Max thought, well tough luck.

"What'chou want boo?" Was her reply, as she sauntered toward them.

"Jenna here needs someone who isn't a mindless dog to show her around town. You got time?" Max asked, gripping the handlebars of her bicycle so tightly her knuckles were white. Cindy knew she meant business.

"Nothin' but," O.C. assured them, after taking a long look at the young, perky girl. Jenna responded with a timid smile before watching Max with a long, plaintive look as the brunette headed for the door.

FOGLE TOWERS
5:30 p.m.

Logan turned from the counter, a glass of water in his hand and a phone leaning against his shoulder. On the other end of the line Bling was shouting a reply to a difficult gas merchant.

"Bling, Bling!" Logan cried, rolling his eyes in frustration.

"I'm sorry Logan," his friend and trainer's voice crackled, as he returned his attention to his cell. "I've been planning this trip for weeks. I just can't cancel it."

"I understand, but that doesn't change the fact that my equipment, and my entire informant net with it, will be sitting in my apartment completely unprotected for a whole week," Logan reminded him. Normally he wouldn't ask so much of his trainer, but Bling had known when he signed on that this was more than a normal job. On top of that Logan had come to trust him more than anyone. Well... almost. With this thought an unbidden image of Max flashed in his minds eye, decided to take up temporary residence.

"Is there no one else you can think of?" Bling asked him.

"Just you and Max, and I was kind of hoping she would come with me," Logan explained. Seeing where this was going, and not wanting to waste Bling's time, he let out a sigh. "I'm sorry to bother you with this Bling. You should enjoy your vacation."

"If you're sure..." Bling started, his voice going soft.

"I am," Logan replied, still not sounding quite convincing enough. He heard his door open and close and then the shout of a familiar voice. "Listen Bling, I gotta go. Bye."

"Bye..." Bling offered as his friend hung up the phone. Logan placed the headset on his knee, and chugged his water, before putting the glass on the counter. He needed to be prepared if he was going to break it to Max that their plans might be on hold. More than that he was going to have to tell a man that he might not be able to find his wife, not if he couldn't find someone to rely on in a pinch.

"Logan? You in here?" Max called, coming around the corner. When she saw him, in his gray t-shirt and track pants, and with a head of flyaway hair She couldn't help but smile. He clearly hadn't showered since his last workout, and his glasses were somewhat askew on his face. Sometimes the man could be so... endearing. His endearing, boyishness was only accentuated by the expression of shock and guilt that she was treated to, as if he had just been caught with his hand in a jar it shouldn't have been in. "You look flustered. What's up with you?"

"What? Nothing," Logan replied quickly. In truth he had just realized that he was still in his work out clothes. Even though he had done a solo work out, mostly just high rep, low weight, sets for his arms and shoulders, he had still worked up a sweat. A sweat that was currently clinging to his shirt, and making his hair stick up at a ridiculous angle. Max was sending him a warm grin, that was almost patronizing in its softness and so he responded with an even glare as he habitually fiddled with his glasses.

"If you say so," was her response. "So I have to say, finding long johns in this city is really hard." With this she sauntered over to the island, reaching into his fruit bowl to rummage through and pick out the perfectly ripe green apple. Once she had made her choice she smiled at it, sighed, and placed her lips against it in a kiss. Then with a feral intensity she sunk her small, white teeth into its flesh and bit off a large chunk.

"I'm starving," she sighed, chewing loudly and making small sounds of contentment. Logan was distracted by her proximity, and the thought that she might be able to smell him in all of his fettered, non-glory. This was why when he finally admitted what was bugging him, it came out sounding less than important.

"Well you might not need them anyway," He informed his friend. "I had forgotten that Bling was taking a vacation this week. Normally he's my safe guard for the network, just in case someone needs to be here in person. With him out of town..."

"Hmm." Max responded, still devouring the apple. "You just need someone to be here? To take directions in case a big baddy finally gets his hands on you... again? That should be Simple enough."

"You're forgetting the part where than person needs to be trustworthy," He replied, as if she were crazy. His outrage was subdued though, as he watched her lick the juice from the apple off of her thick, pouty lips. It was hard to argue with that. He gave himself a mental headshake before continuing, "Can't exactly hire someone to water your plants and guard your top secret informant net out of the classifieds."

"No need," His friend responded, rolling her dark eyes. "I'm sure Original Cindy would be more than happy to."

"Cindy?" Logan asked simply.

"There's hardly anyone I trust more than my girl," Max confirmed. "Besides, you wouldn't even have to pay her. She'd do backflips for the chance to spend a week in a crib with hot water that you don't have to hook up yourself, and a doorman that isn't charging for entry and calling himself big pops."

"You might be on to something..." Logan admitted, amused by her description of her apartment. Sure it wasn't a great place, but never had he seen a man named big pops milling about out front.

"If you're worried about your secret identity, don't be. I'm pretty sure she's figured it out by now," Max snorted, as if the alternative was beyond ridiculous. "But If you're still worried, don't say anything until one of your admirers gets his hands on you. If it even happens. It's a big if, especially with me watching your back."

"It might be the only way we can still track this lead, and the only chance Pamela Trewitt has," Logan said to himself, distractedly bouncing the headset of his phone against his knee. Max watched it, but said nothing. "And you think we can trust her?"

"If I actually thought you were asking that, I'd slap you upside the head!" His friend declared, sending him an angry pout. "But given the givens, I think she's just the woman we're looking for."

"I'll call her tonight," He promised, grinning slightly at Max.

"So what about my long johns?" She asked, grinning back.

"Lucky for you, I have a stash of old camping gear in storage," Logan replied. "Although I doubt you'll even need them. We're supposed to get unseasonably good weather, but I'll get it out of storage tomorrow morning anyway, and we'll leave around noon. Sound good?"

"Fine," she assured him. "In the meantime, you think you got enough groceries to feed a girl?"

"There's some leftovers in the fridge," He responded. "Maybe not enough to feed you though..." He fought the urge to duck as she glared at him hotly.

"Just for that, I'm not sharing them," she decided. She breezed past him and stuck her head in the fridge, a low growl building in her throat to match the gargling of her empty stomach.

"Fine by me," was Logan's response, watching what was visible of her body closely. "Help yourself. I think I'm going to uh... maybe jump in the shower."

"Good idea," Max replied, sticking her head out, Tupperware containers in hand. "I didn't wanna say anything, but you kind of stink."

SUNDAY
FOGLE TOWERS
11:20 AM

True to form Cindy had enthusiastically volunteered her services as a house sitter. While Logan still did not fully like the idea, he knew that their options were limited. More than that, he knew it meant a lot to Max that her friend be the one that they relied on this time. And so Logan had let Cindy into his apartment at eleven, her overstuffed duffel bag in tow, and he had given her the grand tour. She tried to appear jaded and uninterested, after all she had been to his apartment before, but there was an excited glint in her eye that betrayed her.

"So that's where everything is," Logan finished, as they returned to the kitchen where they had started. "You can set up whenever you feel like it in the guest room and if you need to get a hold of either of us, I left a list of emergency numbers on the fridge. Just try not to contact us unless you really need to."

"Emergency, I got it," O.C. responded, rolling her eyes. Already feeling at home she opened the fridge and took a look inside. She had never seen so much food in her life, and immediately she thanked whatever forces had brought Max into her life, dragging Logan along in the process. "Damn you eat well."

"Hypocrisy of the system," Logan replied with a cold grin. The fridge door closed and O.C. sent the seated man a measuring look. Before the awkward air thickened the front door slammed shut and Max appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"If it isn't my two favorite peeps," she said in an uncharacteristically cheerful voice. "Logan give you the grand tour?"

"Your boy took care of just fine," O.C. responded. "Gotta thank you guys again for lettin' Original Cindy crash here while you're out doin' that 'favor'."

"Well someone has to hold down the fort, and with Bling out of town, we figured you were the only other person we could rely on," Logan said seriously. "Max trusts you after all. And that's a pretty big seal of approval." Max sent Cindy a warm smile, nodding at Logan's words.

"Plus," Max added, "You gotta have somewhere to wine and dine your newest lady love."

"Would this be miss blond, all legs Jenna we are discussin'?" O.C. demanded, pronouncing her words with purposeful precision.

"Don't tell me my radar was all off," Max responded, frowning at the sour expression on her friend's face.

"Oh, its on alright, but the needle is pointin' in the wrong direction. If that girl were any more into you, she'd be attached to your backside," Cindy replied.

"Me?" Max sputtered, although she was not that surprised.

"Talked about nothing but the whole day," Cindy sighed. "Tried to move her off it, but damn is that girl smitten. Its such a shame too, 'cause there ain't anything more beautiful than a smitten female."

"She'll get over me," Max said with a snort. "In fact a few days with me gone, and you dressin' to impress? She'll be a goner."
"Wait a second," Logan said, cutting in. "Who is Jenna?" The two women looked at him, almost having forgotten that he was there.

"Only the finest heifer that Seattle's south side has to offer," Cindy informed him. "She just started riding with us this week, and she's developed a little bit of a crush on our Maxie."

"Oh really?" Logan said, letting out a sound of interest. His eyes glossed over and a grin spread across his face as he considered the implications.

"Oh gross, don't guy out on me," Max cried.

"What? What did I say?" Logan demanded, snapping back to the present.

"Your drool said it all," Max said, rolling her eyes. Although she feigned disgust the goofy grin on his lips, and the pink tinge to his cheeks had warmed her chest just a little. She barely got to see into that side of Logan, the one that was playful and physical. Especially not directed at her... stomping on that idea, she turned back to her friend. "So you good if we take off now?"

"Never better," O.C. replied. "There is a bathtub in the guest room with Original Cindy's name on it."

Logan and Max finished loading the Aztec and then peeled out of the parking garage, heading out of the city with a mood of general excitement. In fact the atmosphere in the car was so upbeat that Max had to remind herself they were on a mission, not a vacation. Once she had repeated that to herself enough times, the reality sunk in and she found herself being just a little less warm to Logan. This was business, not pleasure after all.

"So have you heard anything else on this doctor, or our target for retrieval?" Max asked to fill the silence, which was punctuated only by soft music.

"Nothing new," Logan divulged, with a sigh. "All I know is Pamela has been missing for more than seventy-two hours. Usually that means the chances of finding someone are slim to nil."

"Well the least we can do is bring her back to her family, even if it is too late. After all its better to know, even if the knowledge is heavy, than to always be left wondering about what happened to someone you love," Max said in a voice that sounded much older than her nineteen years. "She deserves to be buried with them, away from the badness." She looked out the window to hide the emotion in her eyes. While she and Logan had shared a lot in the last few months, she knew there were just some things she wasn't ready to share.

"I can't disagree with that," Logan commented. "But we'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it." They passed the rest of the trip in relative silence as Logan kept his eyes on the road and Max busied herself with an old magazine. After about half an hour she grew tired with it though and switched over to reading a ragged copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude that Logan had left in the Aztec. He said it was left in the car from his last doctor's appointment, but Max had a suspicion that he had intended to take a few actual hours of vacation on their trip.

She was nearly half way through when Logan stopped at a roadside diner and killed the engine. "Huh?" Max asked, still bogged down in Marquez's world. "We're stopped."

"Your stomach's been growling," Logan pointed out. "I thought you might want to stop for a bite to eat."

"Alright. I'll finish this chapter and meet you in there," She said, dismissing him and returning to the book. Logan wanted to laugh, but also did not want to disturb her interest in one of his favorite books. So he quietly went about transferring out of the Aztec, and wheeling across the gravel, into the shabby looking roadside diner. He nodded to the waitress behind the counter as soon as he entered, and scanned the premises for a place to sit that would accommodate his chair. He found a table with just one chair and quickly rolled toward it. He noted a few older men watching him, and figured they were probably regulars who didn't get many new people in their neck of the woods. Let alone wheelchair bound ones.

As soon as he was settled in the young woman in a long blue dress and white apron appeared in front of him with a glass of water. "Hi there sugar, you eating by yourself today? 'cause that is just a crying shame."

"I have a friend joining me shortly," he assured her with a wry grin. "We'll start with two coffee, and what else would you recommend?"

"Well not to toot my own horn, but we make about the best rhubarb pie you have ever had," she informed him, twirling a brown lock around the pen she had earlier been tapping against her pad of paper. "It's my own recipe."

"I can never pass up rhubarb pie," he said with smile, to which she laughed. "We'll have a slice with two forks. And a few menus."

"Coming right up sir," she said, smiling at him before biting her lip.

"Thank you..." He read her nametag, "Leanne."

"You can call me Lea," she purred before disappearing behind the counter once more. Logan took a look at the men who were sitting at the counter, but they had lost interest in him and were once again engrossed in their oversized breakfasts and newspapers. With that in mind he took a look out the front window but all he could make out through the blinds was a vague outline of the Aztec and the woman in the front seat.

Before long Lea was back and two mugs were on the table. She poured coffee into both from a craft, and then disappeared again only to return with a piece of pie, two forks, and two menus.

"Thank you," Logan told her, admitting to himself that the pie did look spectacular. "You must not get a lot of people coming through these parts."

"You'd be surprised," Lea said with a small snort. "A lot of people pass through here. Mind you its usually just one way."

"What about this woman?" Logan asked, pulling out a picture of Pamela. This one was just a headshot, not featuring her two sons. "She come through here?"

"Hard to say... she a friend of yours? ... Or a Wife?" Lea asked.

"No," Logan laughed. "I'm single."

"Well in that case," the waitress said, perking up. She took a closer look at the photo and frowned. "She does look familiar. She was driving a silver car, I think. Was in here about four, five days ago. Headed away from the city."

"Any idea where?" Logan asked.

"Not a clue. But she did say something about a doctor. You know most people who travel alone are excited to talk to just about anyone who'll listen. That, and I do have a gift with words," Lea supplied. When she saw that Logan was not going to indulge her, she let out a barely audible sigh. "Sorry I wasn't more helpful. So, you a cop or something sugar?"

"Journalist," Logan supplied, slipping the picture of Pamela back into his jacket. "But this one is more of a personal favor than a story. I just want to figure out what happened to her."

"Well I hope you do," Lea responded emphatically. "Now you take a look at the menu and once your friend joins us, I'll be back over to take your order."

As if on cue the bell above the door rang and Max sauntered in, book in hand. She scoped out the room, registering all of the exits and sizing up its occupants. Then with a breeziness that was entirely contrived she sped over to Logan, pulling the chair out and flopping down into a sprawled position. She set the book on the table between them and immediately reached for her coffee, stirring a packet of sugar into it and tasting the spoon before taking her first sip.

"Pie?" She asked.

"Communal pie," Logan responded. Without another moment's hesitation Max picked up one of the forks and delved in. She let out a contented sigh and sent Logan a curious glare.

"If you want any of this, you better start shoveling," she warned. With that he smiled at her and picked up the second fork, scooping up a piece that was some crust but contained mostly rhubarb and one very red strawberry. He popped it in his mouth and immediately the flavors burst across his tongue.

"Do you want to look at the menu?" He asked his friend.

"Nah, I'll knock back whatever you order me," Max assured him. Leanne came out from behind the corner, paper and pen in hand and leveled her gaze on Max.

"What can I get you?" She asked, some of the sweetness having dried in her voice. Logan cleared his threat and she looked back at him.

"I'll have the club sandwich, soup instead of fries," Logan started.

"Get fries, I'll eat them," Max told him absently.

"Soup," he reiterated, looking down to see that she had already finished the pie. "She'll have a double cheeseburger platter with fries. And another slice of pie to go. You were right, it is the best rhubarb pie I have had in a long time."

"I don't lie," Leanne assured him with a large smile. "I'll be right back with your order, you just sit tight sugar."

Max nearly choked on the sip of coffee she had taken as the middle aged brunette bounced away. When Logan glared at her and asked what she found so funny she rolled her eyes. "Apparently all I have to do to stay on your good side is follow everything with sugar."

"You and cute nick names don't seem to mix to me," Logan admitted.

"Right..." she drawled. "Because soldiers can't be cute."

"No, soldiers can be cute," he disagreed. "Downright cuddly even."

"Right..." Max drawled, rolling her eyes.

"Got some news on Pamela," Logan informed her, mostly to change the subject. This piqued her interest, and she leaned toward him. "The waitress says she's pretty sure she saw her pass through her a few days ago, talking about a doctor she was intent on seeing. "

"Well we know she made it this far at least," she acknowledged.

"The more I think about it, the weirder it seems," Logan said. "If there is a connection between this case and the other missing persons... what is it? After all a few of the other cases were single men. Can't see them going to see a fertility specialist."

"Guess we'll find out when we get to this town," Max responded. "So... this book. Does it have a happy ending?"

"Depends how you look at it. Why?" her friend asked, amused.

"I just wanna know if there's a point in me reading it is all," she said with a shrug. Despite her effort to appear disinterested Logan could tell she had become absorbed in the book by the way her fingers danced along the cover distractedly.

"What if I said no?" He wanted to know.

"I just don't see the point in reading about misery when there's so much of it in real life," she responded.

"Maybe its to understand the things that keep is going, despite the misery," He suggested.

"Maybe," Max commented, chewing on his words, and letting her eyes focus on a distant memory. Logan watched her as she thought, intrigued by the emotions that played over her face unbeknownst to her.

"Maybe," He repeated with a smile.