A/n: Thanks for your reviews, guys. In reward, I've included a healthy dose of fluff. Enjoy!
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Chapter 30: Understanding
The couple sat on the stools in the kitchen, sipping coffee, their empty plates before them. Logan reached for the dishes, stacking them up, and then leaned down to transfer into his chair.
"You know the rules, Logan, you cooked, so I do the dishes," said Max firmly, taking his arm. "And no arguments."
"Wouldn't dream of it," replied Logan. "Any hot water left?"
Max rolled her eyes. "Not even I've ever managed to use all of your hot water."
"Then I guess I'll shower while you clean up." He transferred, never noticing Max's eyes on his bulging biceps.
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When Logan returned, it was Max's turn to stare. He wore a pale blue t shirt that clung pleasantly to his muscular torso and black pants, his feet bare. His bare arms rippled with muscle as he propelled himself towards her, tyres whispering on the wooden floor. His hair stood on end in a mess of random spikes (even more so than usual), and his brilliant eyes caught the morning light, seeming to glow from within.
Catching her expression, Logan's brows rose in disbelief; Max couldn't possibly find a guy in a wheelchair sexy, could she?
"So…" they both said at once. The couple smiled, blushed, looked away from one another.
"Ladies first," said Logan, trying to smile disarmingly, but managing only a kind of grimace.
In other circumstances, Max would have laughed. "I don't know about ladies, but… I have a few questions, if you, uh, don't mind answering them?"
"Well, that depends on what kind of questions they are."
"Only one way to find out," said Max.
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"So, what d'you wanna know?" Asked Logan, apprehensively, settling himself onto one end of the couch while Max perched on the arm at the other.
"When you got picked up by the cops… when your mother died… why did you give them your real name?"
"I didn't." Logan's voice was distant, monotone. "They ran the prints on the body and found they matched with the missing person's report out on us. Didn't take a genius to work out who I really was."
"Logan…" He turned to look at her, saw the empathy in her expression.
"Don't tell me you're sorry," he said tightly.
"I wasn't going to," she replied softly. "You remember how I have a thing about guns? The night of the escape, I watched Lydecker shoot my sister Eva, point blank, because she was trying to protect me." She heard Logan's sharp breath, even as she continued. "Eva was the oldest, after Zack. She looked after us, any way she could. Back then, she was the closest thing I'd ever known to a mother. Not that I realised it at the time. I didn't know the meaning of the word…"
"Max…" The single word carried more meaning than the letter itself. It was understanding, compassion, apology, acceptance, and… love, Max realised with some surprise, rolled into one.
She looked into Logan's eyes, and wondered why it surprised her; she didn't believe even Logan could lie in his sleep. Then she realised that same inflection had been in every word, every look and deed for the past nine months. I just never recognised it; I knew there was something in Logan's voice I'd never heard before; now I know what it is…
Logan just looked at Max, letting her read his contrition from his eyes. In hers, he saw understanding, tenderness, realisation... gratitude? She's grateful that I just made her relive her sister's death? Or maybe that I understand how it feels, to have your whole world taken from you with one bullet. Suddenly Logan needed to comfort, and to be comforted, by this incredible woman he'd loved from the first time he saw her. Tentatively, not sure if she'd accept the gesture, he held his arm out to her.
Max was lost, in ocean blue depths that seemed to reach into her very soul. She didn't doubt she had one any more; it sat before her, just a few feet away, in Logan's eyes.
He simply raised a hand and reached out towards her, and Max found herself irresistibly drawn into his arms.
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Tell me if you liked. Or not, of course.