Once Max finally persuaded Logan to move, he entered the Eclipse and executed a quick ninety-degree turn inside the door to one of a pair of ramps that flanked the half-dozen steps straight ahead. Max walked straight down the stairs, scooped two glasses of bubbly from the tray of a passing waiter, and met him at the bottom of the ramp.
The chatter died slightly as they entered. Max felt the change and cringed inwardly, knowing that this was what Logan had been dreading – that he would become the center of attention for all the wrong reasons – an object of pity. He paused at the bottom of the ramp for a moment and waited for Max, his path blocked by a large group of people.
"Hey," she said to him, leaning over the railing to his right. "You gonna join me or just sit there?" Logan gave her a baleful look, then started to force his way through, the skin on the back of his neck prickling as he felt the stares. Max kept her expression neutral as she overheard a few comments.
"Who was that?"
"That wasn't…"
"Poor guy, heard he got shot a while…"
"Such a waste...so handsome..."
"...always had the most beautiful girls chasing after him at school..."
If Logan heard what was being said, he gave no sign. Max followed his progress as he pushed his way through, then headed in the direction of a display of photographs decorated with the school colors near the back wall of the restaurant. When he stopped to examine the photographs, she handed him his glass and dropped a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She joined him in perusing the pictures, with interest: classes, groups, sporting teams, clubs were all represented.
Max was curious. She had seen many pictures of him as a young child, baby photos, stumbling toddler, first day of school – shots taken by his parents everywhere they went. However, from the time his mother had become ill, the stream of pictures had slowed to a trickle, and once his parents were gone, that trickle almost completely dried up, except for one exceptional photograph taken of him leaning over the railing of a wharf on a blustery, cold day.
Logan looked up at Max and smiled at the concentration on her face. Her eyes were narrowed and lips pursed as she scanned for her husband's familiar features in a sea of faces.
"Bingo," she said, her eyes falling on a photograph of a smiling sporting team. "2003 Junior Boys Basketball," she read out loud. The face was softer, younger, there was no four-day growth of beard, the glasses were different, but Logan was still unmistakable.
"Ah, I remember that," he commented, pointing at the same photograph.
"Logan?"
He turned his head to see who had spoken to him, then pulled back on the wheel with his left hand to face the speaker. Max also looked to see who had spoken, and found herself facing a diminutive, Asian woman of indeterminate age.
"Mrs Lee, you haven't changed a bit!"
"Logan, it's so good to see you here. It's been such a long time, you naughty boy."
"It sure has, Mrs Lee." Logan looked over his shoulder. "Max, this is Mrs Lee. She was one of my teachers at school. Mrs Lee, my wife, Max."
Max held out her hand to the frail, elderly woman. "Pleased to meet you," she said, responding to the woman's warm smile.
"Logan, I see you're still bringing the most beautiful girl to the prom. Some things change, some stay the same."
"You know how it is," he shrugged. “Max, Mrs Lee was the one who encouraged me to go into the writing field."
"Oh!" Max's eyes grew huge. "Cool."
"Ah, well, he had a modicum of talent. Would have been a shame to waste it."
"What I say," Max replied warmly. "Use it or lose it."
"Logan, I was so pleased you agreed to come tonight and do a little piece for the school paper."
"Couldn't refuse. I helped start that rag. I'm glad to see it's still going strong."
"Oh, yes, definitely." Mrs Lee smiled. "Campbell made a great ambassador for us."
Logan and Max exchanged inquiring glances.
"He'd been out of the loop, like yourself, for so long that he seemed like a good choice."
"And as usual, you sent him in totally unprepared. Poor guy. No wonder he looked so stunned when he saw me. He really didn't know. I had kind of wondered…" Logan looked up at his old teacher fiercely, daring her to look away.
"I'll be retiring soon. I needed one final scoop. You gotta give an old woman one last chance at the prize." Mrs Lee smiled broadly, then turned to go.
Logan shook his head, amused at her ploy.
"And speak of the devil," said Max, spying the hapless Campbell Emerson coming toward them, partnered by a short, plain woman – obviously his wife, judging by the proprietary hold he had on her elbow.
"Hey, Campbell," said Max, holding out a hand in greeting.
"Logan, Max." He pumped each hand in turn. "This is my wife, Fee."
"Hey, Fee." Max smiled. "Campbell told us a heap about you the other night."
Fee blushed and looked shyly at her husband.
"Don't worry. It's all good."
"It's okay. Anyone would think I was the crown jewels from what Cam says. On the other hand, he sure didn't exaggerate about you."
Max shrugged. "Whatever."
"Logan has a reputation to maintain," interjected Campbell, with a wink. Logan looked up at his friend and grinned. "Logan always brought the most beautiful girl to the school dance."
Max grinned broadly at her husband's discomfort. "As long as it's me, I don't care." She winked back.
"As for me," responded Logan. "My days on the dance floor are definitely over."
"Aww, Logie, I don't know about that. You still do a mean hokey pokey."
"Max, I did that once…and it was after Alec had plied me with beer for half the afternoon."
Max laughed. He had been more than a little drunk that day. Wheeling under the influence...
"Alec?" asked Fee.
"He's sort of…" Max began.
"Max's brother," Logan ended the sentence, then exchanged looks and grinned.
Looking up again, Max noticed a photo she hadn't seen before. Logan and Campbell standing together. "Hey, would you look at that," she pointed, reading the caption underneath. "2006 Chess Team, Logan Cale and Campbell Emerson."
Logan gave a half smile and turned away from the display, his glass wedged between his legs, intending to move off into the room to circulate. His progress was almost immediately halted by a pair of solid legs standing in front of him. He looked up into a mean face with an untidy moustache and red-rimmed eyes. The guy was not drunk yet, but he was well on his way. Max, ever sensitive to Logan's moods, felt a change and tensed imperceptibly. Her hand moved from her hip to Logan's shoulder again, where she squeezed a gentle reminder that she was there.
"Cale," the man said, coldly, his dislike emanating from him in waves.
"Maclean," Logan replied mildly.
"Whose girlfriend did you steal this time?"
Campbell and Fee beside them were frozen, not moving.
"Maclean, I don't steal other people's girlfriends."
Maclean bristled, his face reddening.
"Was there something you wanted?" Logan asked, an edge creeping into his voice.
"Because if not," Max continued, "You can kindly go back to whatever rock you crawled out from." She smiled sweetly.
Maclean leered at her, exhaling alcohol fumes so strong that she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Ooh, you got some spirit. Like a girl with spirit."
Max rolled her eyes.
"What the hell are you doing with this crippled geek?"
Max rolled her eyes again. "He's more of a man than you'll ever be. C'mon, Logan, let's go elsewhere. It stinks like a brewery here."
Max roughly pushed past the drunken Maclean, with Logan following behind, leaving the two Emersons behind. Once they were out of earshot, Max turned to face Logan. "What the hell was that all about?"
"You don't want to know."
"Spill."
Logan sighed. "This is all totally irrelevant after all this time."
"Logan," she warned.
"He broke up with some girl and a week later I ended up dancing with her at some party. Word got back. He's had it in for me ever since."
"Oh?"
"She wasn't even my date for the party. Just someone who was there..."
"...and then there's your reputation as well, Casanova," she chuckled.
"It wasn't like that."
"Now where have I heard that before?" She raised an eyebrow at him, then spoiled the effect by laughing. "Come on, let's..."
"Logan! What the hell happened to you?"
The voice was female, pleasant to the ear, and turned out to belong to an attractive, freckle-faced, auburn-haired woman.
"Natalie – is that you?" Logan grinned in delight. "Never expected to see you here. Last I heard you were somewhere on the other side of the world."
"Yeah – we were for a long time. We've only been back for a few months. It's been a real culture shock after 20 years in foreign parts."
"I bet."
Max turned away for a moment, feeling eyes boring into her back. One way or another, she and Logan were attracting more than their fair share of attention.
"So where's Bob?" Logan asked.
"Couldn't make it. Some meeting or other in DC. Logan, what happened to you? I've been hearing lots of rumors, but every story is different."
"You...er...really have been out of the loop, haven't you?"
Max turned back to face Natalie. "Logan, aren't you going to introduce us?"
"Natalie, this is Max," he said simply.
"Hello, Max. And Logan, you haven't answered my question."
"I dropped out of sight."
"Logan, don't do that. That's not what she asked," Max admonished.
"Logan," Natalie said again. "What happened to you? I'd like to hear the truth."
Logan hesitated a moment. "I was shot – in the back – at close range in the middle of the street."
"Not some angry ex-boyfriend, I hope?"
Logan looked at her for a moment, and then realized it was a joke and smiled. "Just the boyfriend's mother," he responded in kind.
"I take it this was something to do with some damn fool journalistic crusade of yours? I knew your reputation at the Freep. That much filtered through."
"Something like that. Old news, anyway. And you, how have you been keeping..."
Max wandered off in search of another drink, leaving them to talk. When she returned a few minutes later, she found Logan surrounded by a group of his former classmates, listening closely to a story being told by a blowsy blonde, who was nearly bursting out of the front of a too-tight dress. Max leaned over Logan's shoulder and handed him his glass, and was rewarded with a warm smile.
A few minutes later, waiters started bringing out platters of food, which they arranged on long tables for people to help themselves. Logan was still deep in conversation with Natalie, who was obviously one of his old flames. Max had left them and was making a selection of the culinary delights on display when she felt a hand on her ass, and beery breath wafted past her nose. She rolled her eyes as the slurred words were spoken, "Sugar, what are you doing with that gimp loser Cale? Why don't you come have some fun with me?"
Max gently set down the plate and glass of wine she was holding. Deliberately and forcefully, she stepped back on Maclean's toe with a pointed heel, grabbed the thumb of the hand that was on her ass and, turning to face him, bent it back painfully. She said through clenched teeth, "Get lost, buster."
Logan, coming up to them, was just in time to have Maclean, who was stumbling away from Max in surprise, crash into the wheelchair, painfully cracking his knee on the leg guard. Maclean made a hasty departure, heading for the exit. Logan raised an eyebrow at Max. "Having fun?"
She grinned ironically. "Just engaging in a little pest control."
"Okay. Gotta zap those cockroaches."
Max resumed stacking her plate with food, then waited as Logan made his choices. They found space at a table on the side wall, where Max automatically pulled out one of the chairs and moved it to the end so that Logan could sit beside her. Logan no longer took offense at the thoughtful gesture, which was second nature to Max. They were soon joined by Campbell and Fee Emerson and a number of others – classmates, spouses and partners.
They ate amid companionable chatter with the others at the table. Max tapped her toe in time with the beat of some old music from the early days of the century – the kind of soft pop and rock that Logan and his contemporaries would have been listening to at school – the kind that he still played from time to time when he was allowed to play his own CDs at home – which wasn't often. Ben was at the point in his life where he was starting to monopolize the stereo system, and wails of protest went up whenever someone else wanted to play their music rather than his.
Halfway through dinner, Max excused herself and went off to the ladies' room to make use of the comparative quiet to call Original Cindy and check on things at home.
"Hey, whatchu doing calling me instead of having a good time, boo?" Cindy had immediately asked. "Ain't no problems here. If there were, I'd be callin' you."
"OC! I was just…"
"You were worried 'bout your babies. Ain't no need to worry. I'm the best babysitter in Seattle. Had years of practice." Max pictured the grin on Cindy's face as she made the boast. It was even true. She'd been Elfie's babysitter, and Ben's and Jonas's on occasions. Years of experience was right.
"I know, Original Cindy. Just that I haven't left Eva with anyone for this long before – not even with Logan, and he's her daddy."
"This long? You only been gone for a coupla hours, boo. Now, stop frettin' and get back to your man."
"Yes, Momma." Max grinned.
"How's it goin' anyway."
"It's…all good." Max hesitated. Most of the people, with the one exception, had been pleasant and surprisingly welcoming for a group of WASPs. Although Max didn't feel she really belonged, she wasn't feeling as completely out of place as she had been at Bennett's wedding or other formal occasions at the Cale mansion in previous years. With Margo now living in comparative retirement, those formal occasions had ceased. Bennett was less prim and proper than either of his stuffy parents. He had taken over the family home – his brothers were both long settled in their residences and hadn't wanted to move back, and as Bennett had succeeded his father at the head of Cale Industries, it had been decided between them that the house should be his, at least for the present.
"Well, I'm glad we didn't waste all of Logan's scrilla on that dress for you not to enjoy it."
"Oh, no, that definitely was not wasted." Max smiled. She wasn't thinking of the reunion, though, more of Logan's reaction.
Natalie walked in, mid-conversation, surprised to see Max leaning up against the basin and talking on the phone. She listened to the conversation with half an ear, quickly realizing that Max had to be talking to a babysitter. She cast an envious look over Max's slim figure. She'd lost her waistline years ago to children and passing years, and although she was far from being overweight, she certainly didn't have Max's svelte lines.
"Gotta bounce. Call me if you have any problems."
"Max, ain't gonna be no problems. But I promise to call, 'kay? And relax. I got everything under control here."
Max winced, hearing a loud crash in the background through the phone. Yeah, under control, right, she thought. "Late."
"Babysitter?" Natalie asked, curiously.
"Yeah." Max gave a rueful smile.
"I find it hard to picture Logan as a father."
Max smiled. "Sometimes I find it hard to believe myself." She snapped the phone shut and put it in her small handbag, extracting her lip-gloss in its place. She leaned forward over the basin, applying a fresh coat of gloss.
"In fact, it's hard to picture Logan as anything but…"
"A playa?" Max asked.
"Logan was always…different. He never really fit into any one niche."
"Ever the loner," Max replied thoughtfully. "Not a nerd, but not one of the guys either."
"Yes. He was very much his own individual. Refused to fit the mold. It sometimes made him unpopular – an outsider. He was good at everything…sports, chess, and the academic bits as well. Girls used to follow him around, too."
"Nothing's changed then. And being different didn't stop the girls liking him, did it?" Max grinned.
"No, he never had any problem finding girlfriends." Natalie's blue eyes glistened as she gave Max a broad, knowing smile. "He knew how to treat a lady."
"Still does."
"All those ‘olde worlde’ manners – soft lights, music. They're such a…"
"Come on?" Max asked innocently.
Natalie looked at her in surprise.
"I don't think he ever had any shortage of female company in his bed," Max continued. "Guess it upset some folks, though."
"Yes. It was unintentional, but it happened."
Max nodded, understanding. "He has this…"
"Yeah."
"Hell, I'm allowed to say it…charisma, sex appeal…Loganness…whatever"
Natalie nodded. "You two been together long?"
Max nodded, studying her reflection in the mirror. "I've known him for a long time now. Not as long as you, but long enough."
"Then you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I do."
"How many kids you got?" Natalie asked, holding the door open for Max to pass through ahead of her.
"Two. Yourself?"
"Three – all grown up now. My baby is," Natalie paused, "nearly 20."
"Wow."
"How old are yours?"
"Ben is eleven and our baby is about five months, now."
"Ah, you have a little 'un." Natalie looked at Max, thoughtfully. "No wonder you had to make that phone call. I was the same."
"Really? I'm glad it's not just me being silly. I've never left her with anyone for this long before – not even Logan."
"It's not silly. Now, let's join the fray before they send out a search party for us."
Returning to the table was harder than it looked. Logan was surrounded by what looked like a group of giants – tall, loud men. They were apparently late arrivals. Max would have remembered this group for sure. One of them had a sadly deflated basketball, which appeared to be covered in signatures, tucked under his arm. For mature men, there was more than a fair share of pushing and shoving going on among them. Logan's face, as he looked at them across the expanse of the table, wore an expression of sheer delight.
Max and Natalie waited a moment before Max put on her school-marm voice. "'Scuse us, boys. Comin' through."
Without missing a beat, two of the giants moved aside to allow Max and Natalie a passage through.
"…still play a bit of ball down at the community center," Logan was saying.
Max suddenly tweaked as to the identity of the tall men and nodded to herself.
"Still? Wow, I'm impressed." This came from the tallest of the group, a solidly built guy with curly, dark hair, just starting to recede at the temples. "Had to quit years ago – my knees gave out."
Well, Max thought, at least Logan can't complain about that.
Natalie, now deep in conversation with the Emersons, heard the comment as well and looked curiously at Logan to ascertain his reaction. For his part, Logan didn't even react. Max claimed his hand, mid-gesture. "Hey, aren't you gonna introduce me to this group of studs?" she enquired.
"Sorry, Max. Guys, this is Max, my wife. Max, this is Carl, Aaron, Kyle, Matthew and Henry."
"Lemme guess." Max gave them a measured look. "The basketball team?"
"You got it," replied the tall, curly-haired Carl, holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you. Must say, Logan's taste in women hasn't changed."
"That's for sure," added Kyle, a skinny blond with large-lensed glasses.
"Well, it hasn't in the last few anyway," responded Max in kind.
"Logan, I can't believe you still play basketball. That's amazing, man. Look at the rest of us crocks...How come you've lasted so long?" Matthew, the man with the deflated ball under his arm said, then in a quick maneuver, flicked the sad excuse for a ball at Logan. Logan automatically reached up above his head to catch it, tipping back in the process, and was just lucky that Max stuck out a hand to save him or he'd have landed on his back on the floor.
"Hey, what's with the wheelchair?" Matthew suddenly realized what he'd seen when Logan tipped back.
"I said I still played basketball – didn't say what sort," Logan responded. He glanced at Max for a moment.
"What happened?"
"Shooting."
"So how come none of us knew about this?" asked the tall Eurasian, Henry.
They had stopped jostling now, and were all deadly serious.
"I tried very hard to disappear."
"Gee, I'm sorry man."
Logan shrugged and pinged the ball straight at Henry, who had spoken last. "Hey, I'm the one who still plays."
"Well, it can't all be bad, then." Carl smiled. "Maybe a wheelchair is the way to go." Logan threw him a dirty look, then smiled, realizing there was no malice in Carl's comment.
"Maybe it is," he admitted. "My knees don't give me any trouble."
Aaron had turned away and snared the photographer who was roaming the floor. "Come on, let's get a photo, guys. Logan…come around. You're in front."
Logan raised his eyebrows and gave Max an inscrutable look, then went around to join them. There was more than a little good-natured push and shove as they arranged themselves in a loose group.
"Hey, what's with the ball, guys?" Max asked, suddenly curious about the under-inflated object which had ended up on Logan's lap. Logan quickly tossed it to her, while they were still moving about trying to get into position. She read the words written on the ball, Interscholastic Boys Basketball Championship, 2006, and a pile of signatures, including two labeled 'coach'. Max smiled, then threw it back. "Aiight."
*~*~*~
Logan, his tie undone and the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, stared out the window as he waited for Max to return from the bedroom, where she'd immediately gone to check on Eva. He had enjoyed the evening more than he had ever thought possible. The apartment was quiet. Both children and Original Cindy had slept through their arrival. Max walked quietly back through the apartment, barefoot, her feet quietly slapping the floor. She stood next to the window, taking in the view. Logan drew near and pulled her into his lap. "Hey, you," he whispered softly into her ear, then turned her face toward his and kissed her deeply. She responded in kind, melting into his arms and returning the gesture.
“Glad you went?” she asked backing off a little.
“Mm-hmmm.” Logan looked into her eyes, dreamily, and smiled. She appeared as a shadow, haloed by the light from the window. “You?”
“Yes,” she said, wearing a little smile of satisfaction. “It was nice.”
“Nice?”
“Mm-hmmm.”
“Not the word I would have used.” He tensed as Max snorted a short laugh into his ear, sending a thrill through him. “How does it feel to have been the most beautiful woman in the room?”
“How does it feel to have been the most beautiful man?” Max looked amused, seeing his face darken, and realizing he'd blushed.
“It feels just fine,” he eventually replied.
“Me too.” Logan caught the flash of teeth as Max gave a wide smile. She settled herself more comfortably and reached up, starting to pull the hairpins from her hair. Logan ran his hands up her arms, tickling her as he went, and started to help her, loving the feel of her hair as it started to tumble free in soft waves over her neck and shoulders. She happily hummed a few bars of one of the songs she'd heard through the course of the evening – something from the early days of the century, an oldie, but timeless in its appeal. Romantic. Sexy. She had eventually managed to coax Logan onto the dance floor, where she sat on his lap as he swayed, one hand holding the dress out of the way so it didn't tangle in the wheels, the other wrapped around his neck. He was slightly intoxicated, but whether from the wine they'd drunk or from her presence, or a combination of both, was immaterial.
"…with one look in your eyes, baby…I never knew I could feel so loved…hmmm hmmm hmmm one precious moment changed my life…" Max sang quietly to herself. Logan listened, curious, not minding the odd dud note – she was no singer, and so rarely sang at all. The song was old. He remembered it vaguely from his early days in high school.
Logan studied Max, his long-lashed eyes soft and dark in the moonlight, the invitation unmistakable. Max leaned in and trailed gentle kisses down his face – a series of soft pecks ending at his lips and there she stayed until the sudden noise of a door sliding open disturbed both of them and they looked around guiltily, separating with a soft giggle as Original Cindy, hand held up to pretend to shield her eyes, made a beeline for the bathroom.
"Oops, don't mind me, folks. Just passin' through."
Cindy was back in a few minutes, again pretending to shield her eyes.
"OC, it's safe now, you can look," said Max, trying not to laugh.
"Phew. That was more than these ol' lesbian eyes ever wanted to see, peeps," she grinned.
Max leaned comfortably into Logan's shoulder and relaxed. "So…"
"So…how was your partay, my brother, my sistah?"
"The partay was just fine," replied Logan, mimicking her vocal style.
"And so was the partay in this trick-ass apartment," she responded in kind. "No need to fret with Aunty OC to babysit, aiight?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Now, Aunty OC's feelin' kinda punk. All this chasin' 'round after the little 'uns has her all worn out, so she's gonna hit the hay again."
"Night, OC."
"Good night, Max."
"Good night, Original Cindy."
Max and Logan looked at each other and smiled as they heard the door slide shut again.
"Now, where were we?" Logan asked.
"Here," replied Max huskily, "And here…and here." She again trailed kisses down his face.
"And here." Logan gently held her head with both hands and claimed her lips for his own. They held that position, for a few minutes, enjoying the sensation. Logan dropped one of his hands to Max's bare thigh, smoothing the warm flesh with his hand, creeping higher and higher until he flicked the elastic of her panties.
"Logan?"
"Yes, Max."
"Let's go to bed."
"I thought you'd never ask."
Chapter 22: B & E For Breakfast
The apartment was quiet when Logan eventually crawled out of bed, groaning at the pounding head caused by too much wine and too little sleep. He was thankful that when Max had left to take Original Cindy home, she had taken the children with her. He transferred carefully into the wheelchair, wincing as it creaked, pulled on some clothes and put on his glasses. After a stop in the bathroom, he carefully made his way to the kitchen. Max had left a bottle of aspirin on one of the kitchen counters, weighting down a note, that read, Thought you may need this. Back in a few hours. Max.
Logan gratefully swallowed a couple of tablets with water and just sat there for about ten minutes, waiting for it to take effect. Max had also made coffee, but he resisted the temptation to pour himself a cup yet. He was eventually startled from his reverie by the phone, which started his head pounding again.
"Morning, sunshine," came Max's voice breezily down the line. "How's the head?"
"Could be better," was the cautious response.
"Figured we better give you some space to recover from last night."
"Thanks, Max." Logan's tone was neutral. He was not sure whether to be grateful or insulted.
"No need to sound so excited about it," Max chuckled. "We'll be back sometime this afternoon. Enjoy the quiet while it lasts. Late..."
"Later..."
Logan looked at the oven clock briefly, and headed for the shower.
*~*~*~
Max and Original Cindy, with both children firmly in tow, wandered South Market Street, browsing the stalls for bargains. Cindy idly examined some slightly suspect electronic equipment advertised as being "consignment" items by the stallholder.
"And he gets his consignments where?" she asked Max, examining a compact DVD player, sitting on top of a box.
Max looked at her friend and grinned. "Same place I used to. It's a free market economy." She shrugged. "Just don't expect the warranty to hold."
Cindy carefully replaced the remote back on top of the DVD unit with distaste. "No offense, but..."
"Yeah, I know. You're a straight-up girl, yadda yadda." She shifted Eva from one hip to the other, the stroller having been pressed into service as a shopping cart.
"Something like that, boo."
*~*~*~
Logan emerged from the bathroom feeling a bit more human. He poured himself some coffee – now slightly stewed after being in the machine for several hours, and headed into the computer room, intending to check his e-mail.
The informant net seemed to be on vacation. Nothing much was happening, even with on-going investigations. Alec still hadn't managed to turn up anything about the disappearing medical supplies, according to the message he had left on the answering machine the previous day. Logan tried to hack into various hospital records to see if he could establish just how much in the way of medical supplies was missing, but without much success. The Internet was a bit "touchy" – the line dropping out several times - and his concentration wasn't really there.
He started work on a short piece on the reunion to appear in the school paper. It was a pleasure to exercise his journalistic writing skills for a change – most of his work these days was devoted to hacking rather than writing. He relaxed into writing the article and had a first draft churned out in a very short time.
After working on the article for an hour or so, Logan took a break to eat something, feeling better now that the aspirin and coffee had kicked in.
Alec wandered in a few minutes later, entering the penthouse without knocking.
"Don't you ever knock?" Logan asked, annoyance in his voice.
"Not if I can help it," Alec replied cheerfully, helping himself to some toast from the pile Logan had made.
"Help yourself to some toast," Logan said sarcastically.
Alec raised an eyebrow. "Don't mind if I do."
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
"Okay, so what brings you here at this hour on a Sunday?"
"Gotta lead on those missing medical supplies and thought you might want to tag along while I do some B & E."
"Uh huh." Logan looked at Alec consideringly. "What sort of lead?"
"You don't really want to know, but suffice to say, I was told about something going down..."
Logan paused for a moment, thinking. "Max has the car, and I can't exactly ride on the back of your motorcycle."
"Not a problem. I brought wheels."
“Alec, it’s broad daylight.”
“No problem. I got it covered.”
"Okayyyyyyyyy." Logan replied doubtfully, and gestured for Alec to lead the way, stopping to shut down the computer in his office, and to grab his laptop and phone on the way out the door.
Once they were at street level, Alec led the way to a wreck of an SUV, an ugly, charcoal-colored monstrosity, with chipped paint and a bent metal coat-hanger for an aerial.
Logan stifled a laugh. "What the hell is this?"
"What?" Alec asked, puzzled.
"I haven't seen one of these in years. A Honda Element? This is yours?"
"So?"
"Alec, it's one of the ugliest cars ever made." Logan shook his head, amused at the handsome X5's choice of transportation.
"An Aztek wins prizes for beauty?"
Logan gave Alec a dirty look. “At least I have a reasonable excuse.”
"The engine runs. That's all that matters." Alec was getting prickly at the criticism.
"I guess. Just never expected to see you in one."
"Logan?" Alec glared at him.
"Yes, Alec."
"Shut up and get in. It goes, and it’ll get us there."
Logan shrugged and transferred into the vehicle without further comment.
Alec drove downtown, crossing into the northern part of what had once been Sector 5, and into the oldest part of Seattle, near Pioneer Square. Near the old Smith Building, Seattle’s first skyscraper, Alec pulled the car into a seedy alleyway filled with smelly, beat-up dumpsters and trash. The alley was quiet – too quiet. Logan booted up the laptop and scanner, attempting to find out if anyone was around. The buildings backing onto the alley mostly had old, rusty metal doors, which defeated the scanner. He watched as Alec picked the locks on a security gate and opened the solid metal door behind it. Alec flicked his flashlight on, gave a quick, ironic salute, and turned down the stairs behind the door.
Logan felt vulnerable and exposed sitting in the car. He hunkered down to wait, pondering on what he knew of the history of this area. He wondered if the cellar Alec had just entered formed part of the old Seattle underground, or whether it was blocked off from the subterranean pathways, that linked some 30 blocks. He had been on the underground tour with his dad when he was a child – had screamed at the sight of a huge rat running along the overhead pipes – the rat monorail, as the tour guide had called it.
Logan got some amusement at the thought of Alec being down with the rats, forgetting the sewers of Terminal City where they had established their supply run back in the day. He was watchful. The alley was too quiet, and quiet just wasn’t safe – as any spy manual would say. There was a certain amount of truth to the maxim that there’s safety in numbers.
Logan tapped away at the computer, but the metal doors and subterranean chamber continued to defeat the scanner technology. He was going to have to rely on Alec keeping himself out of trouble. He shut down the computer and contented himself with visual surveillance.
Logan almost jumped out of his skin when the cellphone in his pocket started to ring. He flicked it open, and, seeing the number displayed, answered with a smile on his face. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, yourself,” responded Max. “Where are you?”
“Some alleyway down near Yesler and 1st.”
“What on earth are you doing there?”
“Believe me, you don’t wanna know.”
“Lemme guess. Alec?”
Logan bared his teeth in the faintest of grins. “Yup.”
“Call me if you wanna be rescued.”
“I will.” He flipped the phone shut and was promptly startled by a tap on the passenger side window, looking out to see a uniformed police officer waving a nightstick.
“Would you mind stepping out of the car?”
“Officer?”
“I said, get out of the car. I’m not sure what you’re up to, but I’ve been watching you for some time. Get out of the car before I force you out.”
“Officer, would you mind looking behind the seat?”
Logan surreptitiously re-opened his phone and pressed Alec’s speed dial – holding the phone so it wasn’t visible, and hopefully wouldn’t be heard.
“What’s that?”
“That’s my wheelchair. If you want me to get out, you’ll have to hand me the pieces, because I am not sitting on the ground in this nasty alley.”
The policeman looked through the window of the car at Logan’s legs and made his decision, visibly relaxing.
“I’m just waiting for my friend to come back and we’ll be on our way.”
The cop backed off, still slightly suspicious, just as Alec sauntered around the corner, whistling.
“Hey, pal, sorry to keep you waiting. Took longer than I thought.” He had his hands deep in his pockets and a faint dirt smudge on his face. Alec flung the door open and got into the driver’s seat.
“Alec,” Logan said, warningly.
“Oh, sorry officer, didn’t see you there. What’s the problem?”
“No problem. Just might be better if you parked on the main street in the future. I thought your friend here was up to something.”
Alec started the engine. “Sorry officer. Just got delayed. We weren’t illegally parked or anything?”
“No.”
“In that case…” Alec put the car in gear and slowly drove off.
Alec drove in silence, having pointed the car roughly in the direction of Fogle Towers, a smug expression on his face. He flicked a glance at Logan every now and then, waiting expectantly. Logan was watching him intently, waiting, drumming his fingers on his knee.
"So are you gonna tell me what happened?" Logan finally asked.
"Nothing happened."
"Alec, you're covered in dust and dirt. Is that normal for you on a B & E? And why did I have to come? You obviously didn't need me here."
Alec gave a quirky grin. "Guess not. Just wanted to remind you of the things I have to do in the name of Eyes Only."
"Alec!" Logan's tone was angry and a little sad.
"Sorry, just feeling pissy. I was hoping your spy-eye would be able to see past those metal doors. Guess it was a forlorn hope at best.
"So how did you end up looking like you've been dragged through a dirt-pile?"
"Kind of went sideways. Someone came down the tunnel and I had to find somewhere to hide...fast."
"Let me guess. Overhead pipes."
Alec looked at Logan in surprise. "How did you know?"
"Was the building blocked off, or did it seem to go back farther than it should?"
"Went back for ages. The tunnel was full of old junk with, like, brick arches and metal supports."
"You were in the Seattle underground. Your hiding place used to be known as the rat monorail for obvious reasons."
"Not the sewers?"
"No."
"Okay. I've heard of that. Thought it was just an urban legend. Now the sewers...them I know."
Logan laughed, then his phone rang and he answered automatically.
“Hey?”
“Logan, where are you?” Max's voice came through loud and clear.
“On the way back. Why?”
“Can you pick up Jonas from Marianne’s office? It’s sort of on the way.”
“I guess…” He looked at Alec, who nodded, having heard the request.
“Yup, we can.”
“Thanks, Logan. See ya soon.”
Alec glanced at Logan. “Where to, boss?”
Logan rattled off the address quickly, adding, “and I’m not your boss.”
“Whatever.” Alec turned the car across the traffic to a barrage of horns, heading across town toward Marianne’s office.
A few minutes later, they pulled into the street of small businesses where she had her shopfront office, and managed to find a parking space almost right in front. When a couple of beeps on the horn didn’t bring Jonas running out, Logan started to reach behind his seat for the pieces of the wheelchair, intending to go in and get him. Alec put out a restraining hand. “I’ll go.” Sensing Logan starting to protest, he added, “I’ll be faster. Don’t you wanna see what I got here?” He patted his bulging back pocket as he stood by the car.
“Sure.” Logan’s grumpy expression relaxed again. “Bip bip bip,” he grinned.
Alec emerged a few minutes later with his arm draped over Jonas’s shoulders, deep in conversation with the eleven-year-old. Jonas smiled a greeting at his father’s cousin, seated in the unfamiliar vehicle. “Hey, Uncle Logan. Sorry, didn’t recognize you without Bessietoo.”
“Hey, Jonas. No problem. Sent the slave in,” he winked. Logan noted Jonas’s backpack, loosely slung over one shoulder. “Staying the night?”
“Yeah – too boring at home.”
Logan laughed. “Nothing’s changed since I was a kid, then.”
Alec opened the reverse-opening back door so that Jonas could climb into the back seat. “Let’s get this show on the road,” he said, restarting the engine. “Hey, Jonas, you sure you wanna hang with this boring old stick-in-the-mud?” he winked at Logan.
Jonas grinned at the byplay between Alec and Logan. Jonas was well enough acquainted with Alec to know that he sometimes rubbed Logan the wrong way. They also engaged in some witty repartee from time to time, teasing each other mercilessly. Alec’s lack of maturity often annoyed Logan, and Alec became easily frustrated with Logan’s lack of appreciation for loud bars and louder music. He had also never really forgotten that long ago pool game, even though it had since proven not to be a fluke. Being beaten by an ordinary rankled the X5, but being beaten by an ordinary in a wheelchair on several occasions since that fateful day was just plain humiliating. Pool was as close to a level playing field between them as anything could be. It was Alec’s frequent lament to himself that he should have known something was up when Logan had, seemingly innocently, asked if he could break, and Max had nudged Sketchy out of the way in order to get a better view of the table.
“Uncle Logan’s not so bad,” Jonas eventually responded. “Anyway, Ben and me’re gonna go shoot some hoops.”
“Okay. Just let me know if ya want some real fun.”
Logan shot Alec a warning look.
“What?”
“Nothing, Alec. Just drive.”
As soon as they walked into the apartment, Jonas disappeared into Ben’s room and Logan pointed Alec in the direction of the bathroom to clean up.
Max, holding Eva on her hip, watched Alec go with some amusement. "What's he been up to?"
"Hiding out on the rat monorail."
“Rat monorail?” She raised an enquiring eyebrow at Logan.
“Overhead pipes in the underground.” Logan responded. He turned and faced her with a wry grin. “It’s well-named.”
“Nice.”
“Apt name. I once saw a rat as big as a Rottweiler down there.”
“I’ve seen a few myself. Man-eating rat kills son of Seattle socialite. I can see the headline now,” she grinned, following Logan as he spun the chair and headed for the computer room. “We’re going to the park so you serious men can have some downtime.”
“Have fun.”
“Always…” Max trailed a wave behind her as she left him at the door of the computer room. Logan heard her calling Ben and Jonas, then the front door slammed as they left.
It struck Logan with a pang how lucky he was to have found this wonderful woman who was his wife. It was the second time in one day she'd cleared the decks so that he could have some quiet time. She may have been made in a lab from parts of many different people and animals, but deep in her heart, she showed more kindness and humanity than most people. She had proven time and time again how deeply she cared for those closest to her, and this was one more example.
Logan smiled and touched the framed photo taken by Ben on a short trip to Canada the previous year. The photo had pride of place beside the computer monitor. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, was his final thought as he booted up the computer.
"Alec, you're dripping on me." Logan, concentrating on the computer screen in front of him, had suddenly become aware that he wasn't alone and that there was water trickling down the back of his neck.
"Sorry." Alec gave his face a wipe with the towel he'd carried from the bathroom. He draped the towel over one shoulder and leaned forward again to get a better view of the screen. "So..."
"Hmmm?"
"Get what you wanted?"
"This is good data. It helps a lot."
"Well, I heard they were moving the stuff in there today, so I figured they'd be a bit disorganized and I might be able to...you know."
"I know."
Logan was pleased with what Alec had given him, but he wasn't going to admit that. Alec had managed to obtain exactly the right information in his brief, underground foray. The two disks he had given Logan were going to lead him right to the heart of the smuggling ring.
"Ummm...Logan, if it's not too much trouble, I'd – er – like to get going. Gotta return the car and all..."
"Oh, ah, sure." Logan reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out a couple of bills, handing them back over his shoulder to Alec. Alec had finally come through and deserved his payment. He was, after all, running a business, not a charity. He and Gem barely scraped through on their PI earnings. The laundromat was what really brought in the dollars. "Where did you get that car from anyway?"
"I, sort of, borrowed it from a friend."
Logan raised his eyebrows and turned to look at Alec over his shoulder, dragging his gaze away from the screen.
"And, well, she doesn't know I borrowed it, and..."
Logan was trying hard not to laugh at Alec's discomfort at being caught.
"She did say I could borrow it any time..."
"Get outta here before Asha has your hide." Judging by Alec’s reaction, Logan had guessed correctly at the ownership of the car.
"Sure...thanks for the, er..."
"Go. Take the car back. Give my regards to Asha."
Alec had an on-again, off-again relationship with the former revolutionary, Asha, who now worked as a teacher in a local school. Logan didn't envy Alec if he was caught. Asha had a way of cutting him right down to size.
The door slammed shut as Alec left the apartment, and Logan went back to work on the files. He had enough here for his next Eyes Only broadcast, which he intended to put together that night.
It was after three the next time he looked up. His stomach was growling with hunger. Max and the children were not back from the park, and Logan figured that lunch and a break were in order, or Max was likely to smack him upside the head for spending all of Sunday working. After a quick peanut butter sandwich, he rolled out the door.
The park was about a block away, toward the waterfront, the basketball court being on the nearer side. He had a pretty good idea of where he'd find Max.
"Hey, stranger," the voice sounded in his left ear as he watched some kids playing soccer on the grass just inside the park entrance. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"Didn't want a smack upside the head for working all day."
Max laughed. "The boys are playing ball. You wanna show them how it's done? You got moves, ya know."
"Think I'll give it a miss."
She walked beside him, pushing Eva in the stroller, retrieved from the car on her way out earlier. Eva was asleep, which meant she'd probably be up half the night. Her cheeks were rosy in the sunlight and she looked peaceful and serene, her tiny hands bunched into fists. They made their way toward the basketball court. Max had been pushing Eva around in the stroller because the baby had been restless, fretful, and whiney while her mother sat and watched the boys. Max could have gone back home – Jonas and Ben were quite capable of looking after themselves – but it was a nice day, and the park was a hive of activity as the people of uptown Seattle took advantage of the sunshine.
Max found a nice shady place under a tree, locked the brakes on the stroller, and sat on the grass in order to watch the boys, who were playing with some other boys from the neighborhood, rushing around with glowing faces on the blacktop court. Logan pulled up next to her, then reconsidered. He slid to the ground and scooted around and back so that he could lean against the tree, dragging the seat cushion with him for padding. Max promptly drew closer and leaned into his chest, sitting sideways so that her legs crossed over his. She turned the stroller slightly with her hand to angle across so she could see inside just by turning her head, and rested back comfortably in Logan's embrace, while he traced slow circles with a long forefinger on the tempting bit of smooth, exposed flesh between the top of her jeans and the bottom of her t-shirt.
They sat quietly for a few minutes watching the boys shoot hoops and run up and down.
"Feel like showing 'em how it's done?" Max asked quietly.
"Nope." Logan was mildly drowsy, feeling relaxed and happy. "Just feel like..."
"Yeah..." she sighed happily. "This is good."
The atmosphere of the park was peaceful, even allowing for the fact that it was full of people enjoying the fine weather. Max and Logan sat quietly in the shade, enjoying the afternoon. Several minutes later, Eva woke with a squawk, and Max leaned across to release the seatbelt and lift her out, then settled back against Logan, moving her feet so that her legs were more oblique than straight over Logan's, and bent, so that her knees formed a high barrier. Logan smoothed his daughter's hair, which was damp with perspiration where she'd been leaning against the stroller at the back. She seemed warmer than usual to his touch, even allowing for her ancestry. Both she and Ben had a slightly elevated normal body temperature, which was somewhere in between those of their parents – a common result with mixed X5-ordinary offspring which had become apparent early in the integration of the transgenics into Seattle society. Even allowing for that, though, Eva felt warmer than normal. Logan frowned, but then put it down to the warm, sunny day. Eva nuzzled her mother, searching. With a sigh, Max discreetly started to feed the baby, for once wishing that baby formula was a more reliable commodity. Exposing herself in public was not one of her favorite things to do. Normally, she enjoyed the closeness this entailed, but when it came to doing it in a public place, then that was an entirely different story. She wasn’t afraid to use her sexuality, but some things just weren’t for show.
Logan rested one hand on her bent knees, forming a further barrier, and held her with the other. Max smiled to herself, feeling loved and safe. Logan’s strong chest made a comfortable cushion for her back, much more comfortable than the rough bark of the tree. It didn’t matter that she was the physically stronger of the two of them; he always made her feel secure and wanted, somehow. Logan lightly stroked her arm, tickling her pleasantly.
“Hey, that tickles,” she said, wriggling.
“Really? It was meant to.”
“Oh, you,” she dug her elbow back into him, but then realized it was too low down and he wouldn’t feel it anyway.
“Ouch,” he joked, seeing the movement out of the corner of his eye.
“So…Alec get what you wanted?”
“Yes, but I’m not telling him that.”
She gave a short laugh. “Meanie.” She reconsidered momentarily. “But that’s cool. Just what I’d do.”
They watched the game in front of them for a few minutes. Max sat Eva up on her lap and proceeded to burp her, intending to swap her over. Logan looked down at his daughter, who still looked flushed, even in the cool shade of the tree. “Max, is she okay?” He looked at his daughter’s fever-bright eyes, looking around her and then lighting on her dad’s face, producing a broad smile.
“I think so. She feels a little warm, but…no, I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Okay, all the same, I think we should go soon.”
Max sighed. “I guess so.”
Max relaxed again, swapping sides with the baby, and again watching the two boys. This time, Eva broke off contact with an enormous sneeze, scaring herself into a loud cry. Max looked at her in consternation, then gave a comforting hug. “It’s okay, baby. It was just a sneeze.” She rocked Eva gently, holding her close, while Logan looked on in concern. “Logan, I think you may be right,” Max said thoughtfully. “She does feel a little warm. Maybe we should go home now.” She swung her legs around off Logan’s and elegantly rose to her feet. When she was upright, she dusted herself off with one hand.
“Probably a good idea.” Logan agreed, scooting around to climb back into the wheelchair.
A wave from Max got Ben’s attention, and she pointed toward the gate to indicate that they were leaving. Ben held up a couple of fingers to indicate they’d be ready to go in a few minutes. They met the boys on the way out, Max gave Ben the stroller to push as she still carried Eva, who had started to squall when her mother attempted to put her down. Max had picked her up again with a shrug and pushed the stroller one-handed until Ben and Jonas arrived. Ben took the stroller unwillingly at first, then he and Jonas started racing it up the sidewalk at breakneck speed – still burning off excess energy even after several hours in the sun. Jonas was certainly proving that he had recovered from the sprained ankle suffered during their stay at the cabin.
After watching them race up the street, Max and Logan looked at each other and smiled.
“Were you ever like that?” Max enquired.
“Yup,” came the response.
She shook her head resignedly. “Boys!”
“Yup.”
They let them run, content to take their time.
“Cut it out, boys!” Logan called out for what seemed to be the fiftieth time that evening, looking up, yet again, from his notepad.
Ben and Jonas were still in top gear, hours after returning from the park, and were bouncing the basketball between them in Ben’s bedroom – Ben from his bed and Jonas from the trundle bed that slid underneath when it wasn’t in use.
“Boys, no basketballs inside!” This time, it was Max who called out, feeling slightly frazzled because Eva had been clingy and whining since the afternoon. The ball made the familiar thunk again as it bounced between the beds. She exchanged looks with Logan, uncurled herself from the sofa, handed Eva to her father, and stormed into Ben’s room, while Logan looked on, a bemused expression on his face. Hell hath no fury like an X5 scorned.
Logan held Eva comfortably in the crook of his arm, while he continued to scribble on the notepad resting on his knees. She curled into him, gripping the pocket of his shirt in one chubby fist while she chewed mightily on other fist. She looked up at the reflection of the lamp on his glasses – the only light in the room.
Max came back holding the offending ball, which she parked firmly on one of the armchairs. She gestured to Logan as to whether he wanted to hand back the baby, but he shook his head firmly. “No, leave her, we’re fine,” he smiled and started writing again.
Max left the room for a few minutes, and when she returned, she had changed out of her jeans and T-shirt, and was wearing Logan’s threadbare red bathrobe. Again, Logan reminded himself that he’d been meaning to replace that bathrobe with a new one – it was Max’s favorite, but it was showing definite signs of age – frayed cuffs and an unravelling hem. What would anyone think if they showed up and my wife was wearing that old thing? he wondered idly. Max sat in the corner of the sofa, pulled her feet up underneath her, and gave him a glowing smile. She proceeded to stare out the window into the clear night sky.
Whatever she’d said to Ben and Jonas had obviously worked, because there hadn’t been a sound from Ben’s room since she came out with the ball. Eva was also quiet, except for the rhythmic slurping sound she made as she sucked on her fist. Max had bathed her as soon as they got home that afternoon in an attempt to cool her down, and although she still felt overly warm to the touch, she smelled pleasantly of soap and baby powder.
Logan kept writing, the scratching of his pen the only other sound in the room. Every few minutes, he looked up at Max, still staring out the window, and at the now-drowsy baby – who appeared to be absorbing his evening calmness. Eventually, he looked down to see that the long-lashed eyes were closed and her fist had fallen away from her mouth. She was asleep. He put the notepad and pen aside on the coffee table and looked down at the sleeping child, a dopey and doting grin on his face.
Max heard the notepad hit the glass tabletop and turned to face him. “You okay there?” she asked quietly.
He nodded and shifted his grip on the sleeping child slightly, testing how deep asleep she was. Satisfied, he carefully lowered her to his lap, trying to ensure that nothing would catch in his wheels, and that she wouldn’t fall.
“I can do that,” Max said.
“No, it’s okay, I will,” he responded, thinking, No, Max, I really want to do this. Sometimes it makes me sad that I don’t do it more often. He slowly turned and made his way out of the room. Logan was more than happy to take a break from his writing – the words just weren’t coming and he’d been writing and re-writing the same paragraph for the previous quarter hour or more. He’d given up on the computer earlier in favor of keeping Max company.
When Logan returned, Max looked at him and had some trouble adjusting the expression on her face, and in restraining herself from laughter. It seemed that Eva’s fist hadn’t been the only thing in her mouth – the front of Logan’s shirt was a crumpled, damp mess where she’d been sucking on the fabric as well.
Logan caught her look. “What?”
“Nothing, just…” she pointed.
Logan looked down, grinned, and shrugged. “She must have thought I needed another bath today."
“You don’t?”
He ignored her comment. “Want some juice?”
“Sure, sounds good to me.” She smiled.
Logan returned with two glasses and the juice bottle thrust between his legs. He poured them each a drink before accepting Max’s invitation to join her on the sofa. She curled up next to him, glass in hand, and gave a silent toast to the now quiet apartment.
They sat in silence for a while, leaning into each other, easy in each other’s company, as they sipped the tangy orange juice. Logan idly played with a lock of Max’s hair, a wispy, wavy tendril, hanging contrary to the rest. Max’s hair was soft and silky, permed into soft waves, thanks to Original Cindy. Cindy, always on Max’s case about the feminine arts, would no longer let her get away with anything less than a proper hairstyle and manicured nails. Her perfect figure and skin didn’t need much help, but OC never stopped riding her back about her hair and nails.
“You gotta keep up appearances, boo. You livin’ in that fancy high-rise like the Queen of Seattle. Gotta look the part, aiight?”
“OC!”
“Besides, you want Hotboy to be ashamed to take you out in public ‘cause you’re looking like a scarecrow? Uh-uh. Not happening.”
Max smiled to herself, thinking of this and many similar conversations over the years, briefly wondering what Original Cindy would make of Logan’s worn-out red bathrobe, which Max had never let her see. Probably turn it into rags. Some things had to stay private and Max taking such pleasure in wearing one of Logan’s old bathrobes was one of them. Eventually, she became aware that Logan was looking at her strangely, his green eyes almost black in the lamplight.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he responded, smiling, and thinking how serenely happy she’d looked.
Gently drawing her face toward his, he kissed her. Max sinuously straightened and turned her whole body without breaking the connection, straddling Logan’s legs. She deepened the contact, breathing in his manly scent, tasting the remnants of the tangy juice on his lips. She leaned into him, forcing his back against the backrest of the sofa, pinning him there with an arm either side.
“Whoa, girl,” was all Logan could gasp out when Max finally broke contact. She flashed him a saucy smile as she rose, trailing her nails down his arm, and with a cheeky swish of her hair, left him – the unspoken invitation in the air.
Logan watched her go, his expression completely bemused, before transferring back into the wheelchair and following. By the time he’d finished in the bathroom, she was waiting for him in the bedroom, leaning casually on the windowsill, glancing over her shoulder at him. As Logan reached down to start taking off his shoes, she shook her head and crouched down. She untied the laces with a flourish and set each shoe gently down in their usual position on the floor, watching his reaction, a half-smile on her face the whole time. She pulled off his socks, tucking them into the shoes for the time being.
At Max’s imperious gesture, Logan moved onto the bed, where she efficiently stripped him to his boxers and t-shirt, and pushed him onto his back. She started working on him, going through the range of motion exercises so necessary to prevent contracture and stiffness. As she worked on his legs, she managed keep her eyes on his face, while he half-smiled back at her. Logan had placed his glasses on the nightstand beside the bed. In the light of the solitary bedlamp, his long-lashed, reflective, green eyes had a soft, vulnerable look to them, which Max found irresistible and endearing. They didn’t speak – just enjoyed each other’s physical presence, maintaining eye contact all the while.
When the exercise routine was done, Max gestured for Logan to sit up, whereupon she quickly pulled off his t-shirt and, while he lifted himself up, she pulled off his silk boxers, a cheeky grin on her face. She walked around the bed and climbed up beside Logan, while he settled himself comfortably in the bed. The night was warm, and for the moment he left the covers down at the foot of the bed. Max knelt beside him demurely, within easy reach, and waited.
Logan looked up at Max, smiling, then, with one hand, released the knot in the cord of the bathrobe. He pushed the robe from her shoulders, allowing it to slide down her back, revealing her nakedness. He admired her womanly form for a moment.
He reached up again, his fingertips accidentally brushing one nipple, which instantly contracted, then he pulled her down firmly with a grip on her upper arm. He enfolded her in a tight embrace, tasting her lips, her throat, then lips again…testing and tasting. Max, partly lying on her side, had one leg bent up and over Logan’s, feeling the contact of his skin on the sensitive inner side of her thigh. She ran her fingers through the short, curly hair on his chest, and teased and tickled his armpit and nipples. Logan ran his hand softly down her back, buttocks and thigh, and pulled her up slightly, bringing her breasts into reach of his exploring tongue. A moment later, his questing fingers found her moist opening. She arched her back and closed her eyes for the first time, surrendering to the sensation.
He brought her to the brink, then rolled her onto her back and hefted himself on top, where she guided him into position and locked his legs in place with her own. The strong, rhythmic contractions she performed had the desired effect. Having the lamp on heightened Logan’s pleasure. He could see Max’s reactions to what he could only feel in his imagination. He looked down at her, a crooked smile on his face. An instant later, he was looking up as she casually flipped them both over without missing a beat.
A beam of delight spread over Logan’s face at a sudden intruding thought. He’d once seen an old autograph book of his mother's, dating from her early school days. Once of the entries sprang to mind. Honeymoon salad – lettuce alone. Honeymoon sandwich – honey, roll over and lettuce on top. Max didn’t understand the reason for his smile, but as she loomed over him, she returned it in kind.
Logan came back to the present with a thump as Max hesitated slightly and her expression changed. She smothered a cry and held her position. A moment later, he felt the familiar ripples tear through his chest. With a satisfied sigh, Max lowered herself down, then half-rolled off and lay in the crook of his arm.
“Mission accomplished,” she whispered in his ear in an explosion of breath, causing him to break out in goosebumps. She giggled.
“Definitely mission accomplished,” Logan responded quietly.
Max tugged Logan over on his side so they were face to face, holding each other close. She reached her foot over and dragged his legs across as well, running her toes down his calf and then just leaving her leg comfortably draped over his.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in my bed?” Logan asked, smiling. “I’m under a spell and you must be the witch.”
“Yeah,” she smiled. “I’m the Wicked Witch of the Space Needle, and I’ve come to seduce you.”
“Ah, I think you already did that.” He nuzzled her neck, tracing a line of kisses down her jaw. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder and his on her butt.
They both stopped at a thin cry from Eva, who had been asleep in her crib up until that point.
“Max?”
She was already up and reaching for the robe, which had slid onto the floor. She quickly pulled it on and tied it loosely around her body as she took the three steps across the room to the baby.
“Hey, sweet thing, what’s up?” she asked, gathering Eva up. “Logan?” She gave him a helpless look. “She’s red hot.”
Logan reached for his boxer shorts from the seat of the wheelchair, pulled them on, and pushed himself up the bed until he was able to lean against the headboard, crossing his legs in front of him. “Bring her here.” Logan put a cool hand on the baby’s brow, then felt her cheeks. “Okay, give her to me. Can you get a damp washcloth from the bathroom.” He looked up at Max. “Let’s see if we can’t cool her down.”
Max was back in a moment and silently handed him the washcloth. “I’ll get a diaper. She probably needs changing.”
“Okay, just give me a minute here.” He sponged down Eva’s face, feeling a faint twinge of guilt now for taking so much pleasure in his earlier activities while his little girl wasn’t well. Max came back, her expression worried. Eva had never had a sick day since her birth, despite being a more difficult child than her brother. Ben had also seldom been ill; in fact, he had sailed through his infancy with few problems. All things considered, Logan was also seldom sick. She was unused to this, and it showed in the deep frown she wore. Logan stripped Eva of her nightclothes and lay her on the bed in front of him while he sponged her down. It was an easy enough matter for him to take the next step and change her diaper while Max looked on. Eva gave a fretful cry, not liking what her father was doing.
“Take it easy, sweetie.” Max sat on the edge of the bed, looking troubled. “Logan, she’s really hot.” Max had her hand on the baby’s cheek.
“I know.”
“Logan, I’m going to call Aveta.”
Logan nodded. “Good idea.”
“She should be just about finished work for the night. Maybe she can come here on her way home.”
“Sure. Good idea.”
Max left them both to go and make the call.
Chapter 25: A Spoonful of Sugar
Max returned after calling Aveta and pulled on some panties, feeling somewhat under-dressed for visitors. She gave Logan his t-shirt, but he left it beside him on the bed.
“Ten minutes. She was already on her way home.”
Logan nodded. He had Eva cradled in one arm while he sponged her off. She had stopped whining as soon as he picked her up. Max held her hands out to Logan to take the baby from him. She sat at the end of the bed and tried to feed her, but Eva turned her face away after a few half-hearted sucks, apparently not hungry, or possibly feeling her mother’s tension. She handed the baby back to Logan, realizing that her own worry probably wasn’t helping, and fetched a bottle of water from the kitchen. That was slightly more successful. Eva accepted the drink from her father. As ever, Logan maintained his cool head under stress. Max took the washcloth and rinsed it out in the bathroom. She started to sponge the baby herself. Her ears pricked up a few minutes later as she heard the distant ping of the elevator, and left to go and open the door.
Logan heard the soft murmur of voices as they walked through the apartment. Aveta’s rubber-soled shoes made little noise. As soon as they entered the room, Logan could see that the tall transgenic field medic had managed to extend her calming influence over Max. He could tell she had come straight from work – she was neatly dressed in a blue and white uniform, her auburn hair pinned back in a tidy bun at the back of her neck.
As Logan greeted her, Aveta’s nostrils flared slightly. She was sensitive to the odors in the room, which she had vaguely scented on Max as she came in. Aveta gave Logan a knowing look and smiled. Logan, realizing that the field medic had picked up the lingering scent of his and Max’s earlier activities, gave a self-deprecating shrug. They had nothing to hide from her. She had nursed Logan through the weeks of the Manticore virus cure, and had counseled and cared for him when the temporary cure for his paralysis, produced by Joshua’s transfusion, had worn off. She had helped to deliver both children, and had all but moved in to ensure that Max obeyed doctor’s orders when she became ill and threatened to miscarry Eva. She had been a daily visitor and had helped care for Logan when he returned home from the hospital after the accident that destroyed the exoskeleton and could have, again, ended his life several years before. No, neither of them had anything to hide from her, and they both had a great deal to be thankful for.
For her part, Aveta considered them one of her greatest successes, and never ceased to be pleased at what she had helped bring about. And if this meant she had to come and see a sick child in a room scented with the proof of their love and devotion – hell, she wished them all the luck in the world, and that there were more such successes.
“Hey, Logan,” the transgenic smiled. “And hello to you, young lady.” Aveta quickly stripped off the gloves she wore to protect her over-sensitive hands. She took the baby from Logan and looked at her critically, absent-mindedly wiping away a stream of dribble from Eva’s chin with the washcloth. “You know she’s teething?”
“We know,” Logan responded, thinking of his shirt from earlier that evening.
“Fever of about 105. High, but I’ve seen higher.” Aveta sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “Let me take a look at you, sweetie.”
Aveta took in the baby’s glowing cheeks and slight running nose. There was little else to go on. The field medic had a sudden thought as to what might be the problem.
“I think she has Roseola Infantum. We won’t know for sure until the rash shows up…which won’t be until after the fever breaks. Usually a couple of days, but in a half-X5, who can say? Sometimes there is no rash – just a grouchy kid with a fever, and sometimes, not even that.”
“Roseola Infantum? What the hell is that?” Max asked.
“It’s a virus,” responded Logan. “A member of the herpes family…”
Aveta nodded her agreement. “It’s not normally serious, but it can produce high fevers in some children – like we’re seeing here.”
“So…”
“Treat the fever – keep her cool. She’s gonna be grouchy for the next few days. Give her plenty of fluids. Acetaminophen drops, if you can get them, would help.”
“What about the rash?” Logan asked.
“Shouldn’t be a problem. Keeping her cool and comfortable is the main thing. It isn’t serious. The only real risk is febrile convulsions, but that shouldn’t happen. If you’re worried, call me again. I’ll drop by in a couple of days, and see how you’re doing, if you like.”
Max smiled her thanks. “Guess there’s a little more Cale in her cocktail than we thought.” Max’s small joke made both Logan and Aveta smile.
Aveta turned serious eyes on Max. “Yes, she does seem to have her daddy’s immune system.”
“Yeah, but her daddy’s just fine.” Max crossed the room and draped her arm across Logan’s shoulders, leaning against him. “Thanks for coming, Aveta.”
“No problem.” She gently handed Eva back to her father, and pulled on her gloves, preparing to leave. She hesitated and turned back, giving Logan and Max both a quick hug. “Take care, Logan, Max.”
“You, too, Aveta.” Logan was mystified at the transgenic’s sudden display of affection. She was normally cool, not wanting to be touched, an excellent medic, but a loner...solitary.
Max left to see Aveta out of the apartment. Again, he heard the murmuring voices and the click of the door. Max was back moments later, leaning against him as she stood by the bed. Logan reached his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. The other was still curved protectively around the baby.
"What was that all about?" he asked, his expression still somewhat bemused.
Max shrugged. "What, you complaining?" she teased. "I'd have thought that a fine specimen like yourself would like being hugged by a beautiful woman, even in front of your wife."
"Max!"
"I keep telling her to loosen up...maybe she's finally taking my advice."
Logan smiled at the thought. Max touched her finger on his cheek, provoking another expression of bemusement. "What was that for?"
"Rubbing the cuteness in," she grinned. "Never could resist a guy with dimples."
“You going soppy on me?”
“Nope. Logan?”
“Yes?”
“Acetaminophen. We don’t have any.” Max was suddenly thoughtful.
“We can get some in the morning.” Logan yawned and rotated his shoulders, easing the kinks in his neck.
“Get some rest.” Max plucked Eva from her father’s grasp, spun on her heel, and left the room. Logan stared after her for a moment. When Max looked in a few minutes later, he had the light out and was deep asleep.
“Well, kid,” she murmured into Eva’s hair, “guess it’s just us.” She kissed Eva’s head, smoothing her cheek across the baby’s soft, downy hair. Max made a quick decision. Leaving the front door unlocked, but closed, she took the stairs to the roof, wedging it open, and found a vantage point where she could sit and look out over the edge, leaning her back against a piece of the building. She was above their apartment rather than the central, higher penthouse.
There was a breeze blowing, comfortable without being cold, off Puget Sound. This was exactly what Max had been hoping to take advantage of. She’d thrown a baby blanket over her shoulder in case it got too cool, but for now, it was pleasant. It wasn’t the Space Needle, but it was high, and it was home, the first real home she’d ever had.
“Well, honey, it’s a funny old life.” She leaned comfortably into the framework around the skylight above the hallway and loosened the top of the bathrobe. This time, the baby started to suck happily enough. “Fifteen years ago, if you’d said I’d be living in one of the most exclusive high rises in Seattle – that I’d be happy…married…kids…the whole disaster, I’d have laughed. Now look at me – a responsible member of the community – wife, mother, moo-cow,” she laughed at herself. “Funny…if I’d realized what that statue would bring me…” she paused, watching the blinking stars. “I’d have run a…No. You know what, kiddo? I don’t think I’d have done anything any differently.” Max smiled to herself. “Bast. Cats are supposed to be inscrutable…she had her own plans.” She looked down at her daughter’s fair hair. “The greater the trial, the better the reward. And if your daddy, and you, and your brother are my reward, then, hell, it’s sure been worth it. ‘Coz all things considered, my strange little life hasn’t turned out so bad.”
Logan could hear Max in the background talking on the phone. He was in the computer room making the final adjustments to an Eyes Only broadcast he intended to prerecord, and which he would set up to broadcast later in the day. Max had sent Jonas and Ben to the park, telling them to come back when they wanted lunch. “Make the most of the sunshine while it lasts,” was her parting shot as they noisily ran out the door.
Logan had gone to the drug store first thing that morning and managed to get hold of the acetaminophen drops for Eva’s fever. Eva lay across Logan’s lap on her tummy, one of her father’s hands gently rubbing her back while he read through the typed notes on his computer screen. He leaned the other elbow on the desk and thoughtfully tapped the back of his head with a pencil as he read.
Max, her phone call over, quietly entered the computer room and leaned a hand on Logan’s shoulder, reading with him, her hair tickling his neck. He touched her hand in acknowledgment of her presence, and resumed reading. Finally, he leaned back in the chair, satisfied with what he had written.
“Looks like you’re good to go,” Max said with a smile.
“I think so.”
“Logan, that was Gem on the phone. She wants to know if I can hold the fort at Sublime for a few hours.”
“Oh, okay, and you said?”
“I said I’d go.”
“I’m meeting Matt at about four…”
“I was going to ride my bike – don’t need the car.”
“Oh, right.”
“Besides, I need the exercise.”
Logan shrugged.
“So, you don’t mind?”
“No, should I?”
“No.” Logan turned around to face her, smiling, using the desk to pull himself around one-handed.
“Ah, Logan?”
“Yes, Max.”
She pointed down at Eva and started to laugh. The baby was gripping the wheel of the chair, fortunately the one on which he had pivoted, with both hands, and was chewing on the tire. “She seems to think your wheel is a teething ring.”
Logan dissolved into laughter. “She’s half-X5 – she needs a big teething ring.” He gently untangled the baby’s fingers and sat her up on his lap.
Max fetched her bike and a backpack of baby items. She strapped Eva into the baby seat on the back and put a small helmet on her head, then she was gone, leaving Logan alone to make his recording.
Logan rolled into the pub a few minutes late, but considering the three-car collision he’d had to bypass on the way, he hadn’t made bad time. He looked for his friend and smiled as a familiar head snapped up, all attention, as the TV screen over the bar flickered from a baseball game to the familiar red, white, and blue stripes surrounding a pair of serious eyes.
“Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a streaming freedom video bulletin from the Eyes Only Informant Net. The cable hack will last exactly sixty seconds. It cannot be stopped, it cannot be traced and it is the only free voice left in this city. For years, the citizens of Seattle had to make do with an outdated and only semi-functional medical system. Since the civil war of the last decade, things have slowly improved, however, in recent times, a large black market in stolen medical supplies….”
“Hey, Matt. How’s things?”
The detective, concentrating deeply on the TV screen, jumped as Logan’s hand came down on his shoulder. Matt Sung turned his eyes away from the screen for a split second, meeting Logan’s steady gaze. Logan had prerecorded the broadcast earlier, and deliberately set it up to coincide with meeting Matt at the pub.
“Good.” The detective cast one more glance up at the TV screen as Logan pulled in around him to the table. “What did you want to see me about?”
Logan pulled an envelope from the backpack he carried on his lap and handed it to his friend.
“What’s this?” Matt asked.
“The downlow on who’s stealing those medical supplies,” Logan replied quietly.
Logan pulled in closer to the table, dropping the backpack on the ground beside him for the moment. He gestured to the bartender, who brought them both beers. Matt slit the envelope open and peered inside to see two unmarked computer disks.
“This has been a streaming freedom video bulletin of the Eyes Only Informant Net. Out.”
The TV screen flashed for a second before returning to the baseball game.
They waited for the bartender to go back behind the counter after handing them their beers before speaking again.
“Where did you get these?”
“Never mind. There’s enough info there to blow Matthew Cornford right out of the water.”
“Cornford?” The detective looked stunned. “That’s big game.”
“Matt, what I’ve given you is details of every missing shipment in the last three months, together with financial records leading right to the top.”
“Cornford’s not going to be easy to take down. You better be sure of your sources. There won’t be any second chances on this one.”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay. Thanks.” The handsome detective’s face relaxed into a smile. “We’ve been after him for a while. Knew he was dirty, but the problem is proving it.”
“Glad to help.”
Matt leaned forward, pulling an envelope from his own pocket. “Something for you.”
“What’s this?” Logan asked.
“You’ll see.” Matt stood, preparing to leave. “I have to go –“
“Yeah, okay, Matt. See you later.”
Logan fingered the envelope curiously for a moment before tucking it into the backpack and closing the zipper. He slung the pack over his shoulder and looked up at the TV screen, watching the baseball game and taking occasional sips from his beer. Ben’s baseball season was over, the team having lost the final by a narrow margin. The boys had played well – just not well enough to win. Logan, as coach, was pleased with his fledgling team. They had played gamely, but just weren't quite good enough in the end result. Basketball, the other sporting love in his life, would be starting up again soon - the change in the seasons marked by the change in the sport. He idly watched the game while he finished his beer, while his mind ticked over on what might or might not be in the envelope he had just been handed.
Logan’s curiosity eventually overcame him, and he reached for the backpack. He pulled out the envelope and fingered it thoughtfully for a moment before slitting the top with his finger. He tipped out the contents into his other hand, finding tickets to a basketball game later that same week. He put the tickets back in the envelope and the envelope into the backpack, preparing to leave. He wondered where Matt had gotten hold of the tickets. He figured he should get home and see what Ben and Jonas were up to. Jonas was staying another night. He would be going home the following afternoon, when they were all expected for dinner at Bennett’s house.
*~*~*~
“Sublime PI and Laundromat,” Max answered automatically, juggling baby and phone. She wedged the receiver between her ear and her shoulder and grabbed a pen from the desk. “Our hours of business are 8:00 am to 9:00 pm.” She listened for a moment. “No, Alec isn’t here right now. Can I take a message?” She had a page of notes for Alec – she suspected something to do with one of his scams. She wasn’t about to speculate, however – just kick his ass when it all went wrong.
He and Gem were both on the same surveillance job – their phones turned off, communicating strictly by comms for the time being. They were doing surveillance on a matter of industrial espionage for one of their more lucrative clients, and couldn’t afford to mess up. Gem had called in some favors from former inmates of Terminal City to keep the teams swapping over. The relief team would be there at about 6:00 pm, and when Gem returned to the laundromat, Max would be free to go home. Gem had also arranged for Elfie to spend the day with Normal – or even the next few days, if necessary. Normal enjoyed playing the role of doting “godfather” to the pre-teenager, and she was helping him with some work at the videoshop he had taken on after Jam Pony was sold. In Normal’s eyes, Elfie could do no wrong.
Max was content to answer the phone while keeping an eye on the laundromat operations. It wasn’t intellectually demanding, but it was a change from her normal routine, and she was glad Gem had chosen to accept her offer to help out. She had sporadically worked in the PI agency since Normal sold Jam Pony – not for cash, but as a physical and mental outlet. She enjoyed the intellectual challenges of Eyes Only work as well, but coordinating that with family life was too hard for the moment. Answering the phone and keeping a weather eye on the laundromat customers at Sublime made a pleasant, and useful, change. Max leaned back in the chair, holding Eva comfortably in one arm, and waiting for the phone to ring.
“Logan, where are you?” Max’s impatience could be felt vibrating through the phone.
“Max, we’re in the car,” Logan responded, impatiently waving the two boys out of the door of the apartment.
“Would you hurry up? Alec may well decide to take off before you get here, and I don’t want to leave Elfie here on her own.”
“We’re on our way.”
Max had been at Sublime nearly all day for the second day running, with Elfie for company. Gem had called an hour earlier. She had sent Alec back, only to have to stay in position when another team member failed to appear. When she contacted Alec, he was already back at the laundromat but he had readily agreed to get on the phone and try to find a replacement. What had started as a small, but important, surveillance job was fast becoming a hassle. Max had almost offered her own services, but realized in time that the response would be a flat “No” from Gem and a big case of pissiness from Logan if he ever found out. She couldn't really blame him for that. Still, she had enjoyed the last two days. She missed the physical and mental outlets of employment. Much as she loved her family and home, she wasn’t geared to the sedentary life.
Thirty minutes later, having collected Max and Elfie, Logan brought the Aztek to a stop in the driveway of the Cale family mansion. Taking Elfie had been a spur of the moment decision. She could have stayed with Alec, although the wisdom of this was somewhat doubtful. He was likely to take off and leave her there on her own, and who knows how long Gem was going to be – maybe all night. No, Max made the only choice possible in taking the girl with her, and Alec had let Gem know Max’s movements with her daughter. Elfie had to sit in the rear load-space of the car due to lack of space, which wasn’t very safe for her, so Logan had been especially cautious on the drive. As soon as the engine stopped, the two boys and Elfie were out and running through the house.
The maid, Lynella, who was in the hallway of the mansion, was almost flattened by the three children as they ran past, Jonas dropping his bag at the foot of the stairs on the way through. They made a beeline for the back of the house, heading in the general direction of the pool.
Lynella came out on the porch just as Max, carrying the baby, started up the front steps. They exchanged a few brief words while Logan was assembling the wheelchair. When Max returned to the car, he was preparing to transfer. She gave a small grin at the sight of his rippling shoulder muscles, clearly defined under a black t-shirt as he efficiently made the transfer. After positioning his feet on the footrest, he looked up enquiringly, then blushed, realizing that she had been watching him...again.
“They’re down by the pool. Looks like we’re having a barbecue.”
“Okayyyy…”
Logan grabbed the backpack from the floor of the back seat and followed her along the concrete path around the side of the house.
Family barbecues had been a kind of family institution, even with Uncle Jonas. They had been a regular occurrence throughout the summer for most of Logan’s early years. Manning the grill was the one kind of cooking Jonas didn't frown upon among the Cale men.
The land sloped gently down to the yard, and while there were a couple of wide steps at the front, there were a dozen at the back of the mansion. Bennett had had a ramp built up to the front porch, as Logan had become a frequent visitor, and it was also convenient for moving large or heavy items into or out of the house. The back entrance, however, remained inaccessible.
Logan coasted gently down the sloped path leading to the pool and the shady pergola housing the barbecue and outdoor furniture, hearing the noise of the two boys, who were apparently already in the pool.
Marianne was helping Elfie alter one of her own swimsuits by tying a ribbon around the straps to make it fit. They had met Elfie on several occasions, so she wasn’t a complete stranger. She was a good foil for the two exuberant boys – a year or so older and wiser; Ben's equal, if not superior, in strength; and she was street-smart as well. For the moment, however, she stood quietly as Marianne tried to shorten the straps of the swimsuit so that she could join the boys in the water.
Bennett, his CEO uniform of suit and tie replaced by shorts and unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt, handed Logan a beer from a cooler beside the barbecue. He held a bottle of olive oil in the other hand. Max greeted Bennett and Marianne warmly, hugging them both in turn.
"Hope that's cold-pressed," she joked, eyeing the oil bottle.
"Nothing but the best for the Cale household," Bennett responded, with a grin showing her the generic supermarket label. He shrugged. “Hey, it’s what I could get on the way home. This stuff is like gold.”
“Why didn’t you ask? I could have borrowed some from the Italian Embassy,” she snapped, cheekily, then seeing Bennett’s expression, added, “That was a joke.”
“I know, Max,” he replied mildly.
Seattle was turning on its best late summer weather. The evening was still warm, and the sky clear, despite the usual haze. The three older kids splashed noisily in the pool, tossing a ball around, the two boys trying, unsuccessfully, to keep Elfie from grabbing it.
"Hey, Elfie, need a hand?" Max called.
"I...got it...under...control!" the girl replied, successfully lunging for the ball, and poking her tongue out at Jonas, who had been trying to get to it first.
Bennett, his preparations complete, started throwing steaks on the barbecue while Logan watched. Max and Marianne sat at the glass-topped table in the centre of the pergola and exchanged news while Marianne put together a salad. She'd brought the ingredients down from the house earlier and just needed to assemble them. Max relaxed in her chair, leaning into the cushion. She had enjoyed the last two days immensely. Eva's brief illness was running its course – the spots over her torso had broken out the previous day, and, though her face still looked flushed, she was much less grumpy. She wasn't back to her normal self, but was well on the mend. She hadn’t really been a problem at work. Sitting up on Max's lap with her mother's hands loosely holding her, Eva looked around curiously and chewed her fist.
For herself, Max kept casting envious looks at the three noisy kids in the pool, as she talked to Marianne.
"Max, go and have a swim. You're obviously dying to. I can take care of Eva. In fact, I'd love to."
Max looked at her indecisively for a moment before making a move. She got up and handed the baby to Marianne, and, after a quick word to Logan, made her way into the downstairs bathroom to change. Logan had brought both of their swimsuits with him. She figured that there was little chance of getting Logan into the pool with Elfie there, but she still decided to try.
"Logan, wanna join me?" she asked, a cajoling tone in her voice.
“No…thanks,” he said, scratching the back of his head in a gesture that was always a dead give-away that he was feeling discomfort.
Max rolled her eyes. “God, Logan, after all this time I’d’a thought you’d have been past this.”
“Max!”
She stood in front of him sassily, hands on hips, fixing him with a steely gaze. “Is this because of Elfie?”
Logan sighed.
“Well, that’s just stupid. We’re all family here – yours and mine. So get your ass in that pool, buster, before I throw you in.”
“Sure, mom.” Logan ducked as she cuffed his ear.
“I’m not your mom.”
Bennett was grinning, trying hard not to laugh at the exchange. Max turned quickly, point made, took a couple of quick steps and executed a perfect dive into the pool. Logan looked up at Bennett. “Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “I’m so whipped.”
“Man, you got some issues,” Bennett responded, taking away the sting with a smile. “But she’s right. We’re family here. No need to be embarrassed.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“No, but I might be pushing up daisies if you don’t do what the lady says.”
“Yeah, sure, she’d snap your neck, just like that,” Logan smiled, snapping his fingers, then he snapped off the brakes of the wheelchair and went to change in the downstairs bathroom.
*~*~*~
Logan sat on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water at the deep end, watching the contest before him. He enjoyed swimming, even though it was harder to go fast without the use of his legs. It had, however, taken all of Bling’s persuasive skills, and even a few threats, to get him into the water the first time after the shooting. He was still loath to swim in public, tending to use the pool in his apartment building only at quiet times – early in the morning or late in the evening.
Max swam across to him and grabbed his legs in a hug, anchoring herself in position. The water was too deep for her to stand – not that that was a problem. Her dark hair gleamed wetly, like the pelt of a black cat, and she smiled.
“Sorry ‘bout being so hard on you and all,” she said.
“No, you were right, as always. I was being an ass.”
She grinned. “Well, it’s a very nice ass,” she said, reaching up to pat the accessible part of his behind. “Are you just gonna sit there?”
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
“I think you’re comin’ in.” She reached up for his hand and tugged gently, pushing off from the wall with her feet.
Logan allowed himself to be pulled in, smiling all the while.
Logan swam the length of the pool, taking leisurely strokes, Max swimming beside him. The three kids kept out of the way. After several laps, Max stopped and got out of the water. She sat on the edge of the pool watching the game. Logan held onto the wall beside her for a moment. He shook his head, spraying her with water, then turned away with a smile, and started to swim again. Since returning from the cabin, Logan had let his exercise routine slip somewhat, so he was actually quite glad he’d let Max talk him into the water. Max watched him traverse the length of the pool, slicing through the water efficiently, then she was in again, swimming beside him.
Finally, they both joined the kids in a lively game of boys vs girls in "water volleyball", using a plastic ball and an imaginary central net marked by a join in the tiled inner surface of the pool. Naturally enough, the two transgenic females were at somewhat of an advantage over their opponents and didn't hesitate to break the superhero code over their heads. It wasn’t easy for Logan to maintain his position or capture the ball in the water, as he had to either use his arms in order not to drown or hang from the side of the pool, but he still participated to the best of his ability, swimming back and forth in the role of backstop to the two boys. Half-transgenic Ben, with his two mere mortal partners, didn’t stand much chance against the all-transgenic opposition, but the three of them took the loss in their stride.
*~*~*~
An hour and a half later, dinner had come and gone. Bennett was packing up the barbecue – giving it a cursory scrape before covering it over and unscrewing the propane tank. Marianne and Max had taken the dirty dishes inside, and Jonas and Ben had vanished as well, leaving Logan with Eva and Elfie for company. Logan again had Eva lying across his legs while he rubbed her back – she really enjoyed the gentle massage and lay there quietly for him.
Elfie, sitting to the side and slightly behind Logan, studied the old scars on his back thoughtfully. Neither of them had yet changed into their clothes, although Logan had a towel loosely wrapped around him. Logan had long ago discarded the rehab chair he used in the early days for a more streamlined model with a much lower backrest so his scars were clearly visible to Elfie.
“Guns are bad, aren’t they?” Elfie asked suddenly.
Logan was caught by surprise at the girl’s question, coming out of the blue as it did. He turned slightly to face her. “No, guns aren’t bad. Only people are bad. Guns are things – they can’t be good or bad. It’s what people do with them…”
Elfie digested that for a moment. “Max doesn’t like guns. Is that because of you?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Well, you were shot, weren’t you?”
“Yes, but that’s not the reason. Max doesn’t like guns because of something that happened when she was a child – younger than you.”
Elfie waited expectantly.
“She saw her sister shot dead – in cold blood.”
“Oh!”
“It was the night they all escaped. Max hasn’t liked guns since that night. This,” he touched a wheel thoughtfully, “probably didn’t help, but Eva’s murder was the main thing.”
“Her sister was called Eva?”
“Yes, Eva and Ben are both named after Max’s siblings. Both of them are dead.”
“Cool.” Elfie smiled. “I like that.”
“Twelve of them escaped that night…”
Logan sat quietly for a moment. A breeze had sprung up, and he felt a sudden chill on his arms.
“Elfie, could you look after Eva for a few minutes? I want to get dressed.”
“Sure. No problem.”
~*~*~*
"So, Max has been working at Sublime?" Bennett leaned forward over the pool table to line up his shot.
"Yeah. Gem put in a call for help. It's fine, but it worries me a bit."
Bennett was silent for a moment. He took his shot, the white ball caroming off the red at an oblique angle and sending the red into the side pocket. He stood back to study the table again, chalking the end of his cue. "What do you mean?"
"I'm happy for her to be back out there feeling useful. I know she was getting bored at home." Logan smiled. "Just as long as..."
Bennett raised an eyebrow, and took another shot, which missed.
"The PI stuff can be dangerous." Logan shrugged and lined up his shot. The balls connected with a satisfying click, the striped one dropping into the pocket.
"Logan, she won't put Eva in any danger. You know that."
"Yeah, I know, but trouble sometimes has this way of finding her."
"She's answering the phone, not tracking down leads."
"I know. She's a big girl. But that doesn't stop me from worrying."
"Right. And she could snap your neck as soon as look at you." Bennett smiled as he turned Logan’s own joke from earlier back on him.
“Right.”
“I’d be more worried about her riding a bicycle with the baby on the back to work.”
“Well, she’s not doing that all the time. I drove her today. But you’re right. It’s not the safest way to travel.”
“So...do something about it. You got the cash, go spend it.”
Logan, lining up his shot, looked across the table at his cousin, and sunk the last ball. After a brief, satisfied grin, he looked up at Bennett and said, “I will. And that’s ten bucks you owe me.”
Bennett grinned and pulled a bill from his pocket as Logan rounded the table to put the cue away. Bennett handed him the money. “You been practising?”
“Nope. Not really.” Logan looked over his glasses and grinned at Bennett as he pocketed the money. "Well, maybe just a little."
“I knew it. Come on. Let's go see if Marianne made that coffee, like she promised."
*~*~*~
Max watched Marianne putter around the kitchen from the doorway. She leaned against the timber doorframe comfortably, baby clutched on her hip, as the other woman made coffee and loaded the dishwasher.
"How does it feel to be a working girl again?" Marianne asked.
"Good. Logan seems chill with the idea, as well," she smiled.
"Well, that's good to hear. How long do you think you'll be there?"
"No clue. As long as it takes Gem to get this job done. Only, I'm hoping it doesn't end there."
"Well, you'll just have to make yourself indispensable," Marianne responded, adding the last plate to the dishwasher.
"Been trying."
"If it doesn't work out, you can always go look for something else."
"Like what? You got any openings for a transgenic former bike messenger?" They both laughed at the thought of Max working in Marianne's tiny law office, where the entire staff consisted of a secretary and a part-time bookkeeper–cum-general factotum.
"I'll let you know if anything comes up." Marianne surveyed the kitchen one last time before firmly shutting the dishwasher door and starting the cycle. The kitchen was huge and modern – a relic of Jonas and Margo's days of excess, when there had been a large paid staff to run the household. Bennett and Marianne lived on a more frugal and modest scale. In fact, Marianne liked to cook, and did so most nights. When Jonas was murdered, most of the staff had been sacked as Margot couldn't pay their wages. There was now only the maid, Lynella, a part-time cleaner and the gardener left – modest enough domestic staff for a house of such generous dimensions.
Marianne rummaged in a cupboard and pulled out a wooden serving tray on which she set coffee cups, sugar and cream. She gestured for Max to take the coffee pot itself. Max followed Marianne down the hallway toward the living room, holding the coffee carefully out of Eva’s reach.
Max’s phone started to ring as she walked. Logan looked out of the poolroom curiously, hearing the phone. Max cocked her hip at him and said, “Can you get that for me? Got my hands full.”
Logan reached into her pocket and pulled out the phone. He checked the number before answering the call. “Hey, Alec. What’s up?”
Max rolled her eyes and mouthed, “What’s he want?”
Logan held up a hand in a ‘wait-a-minute’ gesture. “Okay, sure. She can spend the night with us.” He listened a moment. “I’ll let her know.” He terminated the call.
“So, what’d he want?” Max asked again.
“Gem won’t be back tonight. I said we’d take Elfie home with us and we’ll take her to the laundromat tomorrow morning. He’s going to relieve Gem in the morning and let her get a few hours’ sleep, if you can hold the fort and Sublime again.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” she smiled.
“Yeah, I’ll drop you there in the morning – got something I want to do first thing.”
“Like what?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“So tell me…”
“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Logan dropped the phone back into Max’s pocket, gave her an enigmatic smile, turned and pushed himself off toward the living room, leaving her standing in the hallway wearing a dopey grin at his parting shot.
“…Thursday night there will be an abundance of mirth and maybe a little surprise.”
“What?” she asked, smiling.
“Then it wouldn't be a surprise.” He turned away, heading out of the kitchen.
*~*~*~
Max stumbled after Logan, her hand on his shoulder. He had blindfolded her with a dark-colored scarf before leaving the apartment. A grinning Ben carried the baby. Logan guided her out to the street and stopped. Max could hear the satisfaction in his voice as he said, “You can take the blindfold off now.”
She pulled off the scarf and blinked a couple of times to clear her eyes. They were standing in front of a shiny, metallic silver car – a Series 3 BMW. There was even a baby seat already installed in the back.
“What?” she asked, puzzled.
“It’s yours.”
“Mine? A car?”
“Well…I did think about getting you an X5, but then I realized we already have one of those in the house and two would be total overkill.”
Max, grinning, accepted the keys Logan held up in front of her, dangling them in her face. She took one step toward the car, then turned back, grabbing him in a tight hug and kissing his cheek. “Nice surprise, Logan.”
“Well, if that’s the reaction I get, I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Aren’t you gonna try it out?”
Suddenly, she was all business. ”Get in, everyone.” She took Eva from Ben and sat her in the baby seat, first adjusting the straps to fit.
An hour later, they were well to the south of Seattle, travelling fast along the highway. Max put the car through its paces, flying through the gear changes. Eventually, they passed a field where the only occupants were a family of fibreglass cattle: a bull, cow and calf. They were old, and somewhat beat-up, but basically intact, although the bull had lost one of his horns. How the artificial animals had escaped being vandalized was a mystery, but they had. Max pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. She leaned across the center console to Logan, who was watching her curiously, and pulled him closer. Then she kissed him deeply, to the sound of a muted, “Gees, I wish you two wouldn’t do that in public,” from Ben. Max waved an admonishing finger at Ben as Logan deepened the connection, holding her head and the back of her neck in his hands.
They backed off slightly, staring into each other’s eyes.
“I should surprise you more often,” Logan said softly.
Max just smiled. “Let’s go home.”
“Hey!” Max called through the open window of the car. “Want a ride?”
Original Cindy leaned down to the window to see who had called out to her. “Hey, sugah. Look at you flossin’.”
“Ya coming?”
Original Cindy opened the door and got in, snuggling into the comfortable seat. “A girl sure could get used to this,” she said, closing her eyes and pretending to sleep as Max pulled out from the curb. Eva babbled and kicked, announcing her presence. “And hello to you, little sugah.” OC snapped one eye open, closed it again, then reconsidered and sat straighter, no longer pretending. “I see that man o’ yours finally got you some wheels befittin’ your station in life.”
“Yeah, and you knew about it all along, ‘coz he came to you for advice, didn’t he.”
“Advice? Nah. I just told him not to get you a Sherman tank like that heap he drives. A lady likes a ride with style. Now look at you. Gonna have to go to some fancy finishin’ school just to be seen with you.”
“Yeah, right. Gonna be home alone tonight. Wanna chill out with me?”
“What, you lettin’ the boys out on their own?”
“Basketball. Not my thing, you know that.”
“Yeah, I know.” Original Cindy considered a moment. “Might just do that, boo. Where you headed at this hour anyway?”
“Work,” Max smiled.
“Alec and Gem keeping you busy? Guess it beats climbing the walls.”
“That’s for sure.”
Max slowed to a stop outside the salon where Cindy was employed. OC got out and shut the door. She leaned in the window again to say, “Later…”
“Yeah, late…”
*~*~*~
Logan plonked his soda down on the molded plastic seat beside him and wrote himself a mental note to thank Matt Sung again. The tickets the detective had given him for this game couldn’t have been better – courtside seats on the aisle. They were in the area designated for wheelchair users. There were several other wheelchair users of various sizes and shape, with their families, around them. Logan appreciated the fact that they were almost exactly mid-court and had a clear view of both ends. Ben’s eyes shone with excitement. He had been to several basketball games with his father, but the excitement never left him.
Logan, waiting for the game to begin, was startled when a firm hand came down on his shoulder. He looked around into the wise, dark eyes of his former PT, Bling.
“Hey, Logan.”
“Bling!” Logan gave a smile of delight. He hadn’t seen his former therapist for a considerable time – not since Bling had knocked him into shape for the second time following the collision with the bridge, which had written off both Bessie and the exoskeleton, and had nearly written off Logan as well. He grasped the physical therapist’s hand in a firm shake. “Ben, do you remember Bling?” Logan had looked back at the boy once and caught his expression.
“Yeah, Dad, I do.”
Bling reached across and high-fived the boy. “How you doing, Ben? I wouldn’t have recognized you.”
Ben rolled his eyes in a way so reminiscent of Max that both men laughed. “Yeah, whatever.”
“How’s Max?”
“Great.” Logan couldn’t help smiling. “What’re you doing here?”
“Work.”
“Really?” Logan’s tone was only mildly disbelieving. “Who’d’a’ thought.”
“Really. Kid from the rehab centre. I should introduce you as the archetypal bad patient – a classic example in how not to do things.” There was a flash of white teeth, a fleeting grin, taking the sting out of the words.
“Aww, go ahead, say what you like. It’s open season.”
“Yeah, right – like you’d let me.”
“Bling?” The hesitant voice came from behind them.
“Sorry, Steve, I really should introduce you.” Bling turned to his charge, a slim, fair-haired man in his early twenties, still with a hospital pallor. Logan figured that probably wouldn’t last long if the therapist had his way. “Steve, this is my friend and one of my old clients, Logan Cale. Logan, this is Stephen Hallsmith.”
While Bling spoke, Logan had unlocked his brakes and pivoted on one wheel to face the young man. “Hey, Stephen.” He held out a hand in greeting.
“Hey.” Stephen took the proffered hand in his own.
Logan knew then, if he hadn’t already, how recent Stephen’s injury was. His hand was smooth, uncallused, a complete contrast to Logan’s chair-hardened one. Logan looked fit and healthy in comparison to the much younger man before him. He had been spending a lot of time in the outdoors recently – both at the cabin and the park – and had acquired a suntan in the process. He had also resumed his regular workouts following the visit to Bennett’s house earlier in the week, and had even shaved that morning, and so presented a smooth-skinned face to the world. Bling looked as impressive as ever, with his body-builder physique and no-nonsense attitude. He was a calm, sensible presence, although Logan had not always appreciated that. All the same, Logan was genuinely glad to see his old friend.
Logan was about to speak again when another voice hailed him from farther afield.
“Yo! Cale!”
Logan looked up to see one of his basketball teammates rolling toward him at a fast clip. The newcomer executed a smooth pirouette to pull around Bling and his charge and come to a stop in front of Logan, grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, ain’t it a small world. How ya doin’, man? How’s Max? And how’re you doing, Ben?”
“I’m good.” Ben smiled at the man’s onslaught of words. Scott wasn’t known to keep quiet for more than about 30 seconds at the best of times, but when he was excited, verbal diarrhea ensued.
Logan, amused by the torrent of words, was forestalled from speaking by Bling. “Hey, Scott, long time, no see.”
“Bling. Fancy seeing you here.” He high-fived the physical therapist and went on talking, this time to Logan. “We gonna see you at training on Wednesday, Logan? We aim on takin’ the championship this year.”
“Gee, I don’t know about that, Scott. I’m getting a bit old and slow to keep up with you young guys.”
Bling smiled. He was the one who had introduced Logan to the joys of wheelchair basketball. Stephen followed the conversation with interest. Ben’s ears had pricked at the words “training on Wednesday”. He was a keen sports fan, as well as being a keen sportsman. He attended a large percentage of his dad’s games, and even the occasional training session.
“Crap.” Scott wasn’t hearing any of that. “If you can keep up with that beautiful wife of yours,” Scott wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “then you can keep up with us. Speaking of which, where is the lovely Max?”
“Home.”
“Damn. Well, any time you wanna trade her in, I’m available.”
“Yeah, and Claire would have my ass in the fire faster’n’ I could blink if I did that.”
“What would you care? Your ass couldn’t feel the flames anyway.”
Logan grinned ruefully, while Bling and Ben were openly laughing at the exchange. Stephen, sitting beside Logan, listened to the exchange and took note of how these two experienced wheelers were acting toward each other – laughing at their predicament.
“And yours could?”
“Well…maybe not,” Scott conceded. “But I’d be there selling the tickets.”
“Like Max’d really let that happen,” Bling interjected.
“She’d swoop in on her faithful steed and have you back in that rich-kids’ playhouse making sweet monkey love faster than I could blink. Ain’t never seen anyone so stuck on anyone else after so long in my entire life. When are you guys gonna quit the honeymoon and join the rest of us plebes. Though mind you,” Scott scratched his chin thoughtfully, “if I had Max…”
They were interrupted by an impatient movement from Stephen.
“Oh, hey, sorry, I’ve been rude. Scott Mitchell.” He held out his hand.
“Steve Hallsmith.”
“You’re here with the big guy?”
Steve nodded. “Well, you couldn’t be in better hands. Right, Logan?”
“Right.”
Scott turned a semi-circle to watch as the two teams ran out onto the court and prepared to do battle.
"So what'd you do with Claire tonight?
"She's in Portland. Went to stay with her mom for a few days."
"How'd you piss her off this time?"
Scott donned an exaggeratedly hurt expression as if to say, "Who, me?" turning his head so Logan could see it. "I didn't. Her mom's been sick and she went to play nursemaid."
Logan nodded thoughtfully, watching the teams run around the court, practicing free throws. "Come back to my place later?"
"Sure."
"Bling? You and Steve could come too."
Bling was slightly taken aback at the invitation. Logan wasn't normally quite so forthcoming in asking people to invade his privacy. He looked at Steve and responded with a cautious, "We'll see."
~*~*~*
Max stretched out on the sofa while Original Cindy engaged in some pedicure. Original Cindy had already dealt with Max's fingernails. She leaned her back against the arm, waving her fingers before her face and blowing on the nails to hurry up the drying process. The containers from the Chinese takeout they'd eaten for dinner earlier were still on the kitchen counter. Cindy had just turned on the coffee machine, and it gurgled and belched. Max was keeping half an eye on Eva, who had started crawling. She was up on her hands and knees, rocking back and forth.
"Gonna have your hands full soon. Nothin' gonna stop that little girl."
Max just smiled.
"What're you grinning at? You're the one gonna be doing the chasing. Remember Elfie and the stuff she used to get up to? Nothing was safe. Darn kid was part monkey."
"What – think I can't cope? Didn't kill us last time."
"It may not have crossed your mind, but Ben isn't Eva."
"I know."
"Logan's pretty toys aren't going to be safe."
"We do know how to childproof, OC."
"I know that. Just trying to point out that you need to do it soon."
Cindy watched Eva set off across the floor, almost falling on her nose when she reached the edge of the rug and moved onto the smooth floorboards. She had her eyes fixed on the TV remote control, which was on the floor where Ben had left it. Eva was fast, but OC was faster – for now. She stopped what she was doing and made a dive to get there first. She swapped the remote control for a colourful plastic toy, which seemed to satisfy Eva and was definitely safer.
"See what I mean?"
"Yeah, I get your point, I guess. What was your point?" Max asked innocently. "Oh, that's right. Gotta childproof."
"Okay, I'm done here, I think." Cindy sat back and admired her handiwork, then started repacking her kit.
Max smiled.
"Can't have ya wandering the streets looking like one of the local street hoes, with your nails all busted up."
"Well, this is more fun than doing guy stuff with Logan, anyway." Max rolled her eyes and laughed. "Downtime with sistah-gurl is always a good thing."
“Logan! Hey! Wait up!” Logan looked around, hearing his name called for the third time that evening. He scanned the crowd around him, eventually meeting the dark eyes of his former school basketball teammate, Henry. Standing beside Henry were Carl and Aaron, both grinning from ear to ear.
Logan swung around to face them, forcing Ben into a quick sideways hop to get out of the way. “I thought you guys would’ve gone back home by now.”
“Umm, Logan,” Carl rubbed his head, rumpling his short, curly hair. “I live here.”
“And I’m taking some time off,” added Henry. “I’m thinking of moving back to Seattle. Mom isn’t getting any younger and, well, she won’t move. It’s just a matter of getting all the ducks in a row, persuading the family…you know.”
“I know.”
Aaron was silent for a moment. “I’m on vacation,” he shrugged, “kind of.”
“Yeah, right Aaron. Permanent holidays,” joked Carl.
Aaron shrugged. “I’m between jobs,” he admitted.
Ben stood by, his hand on his dad’s shoulder. They had been on their way to the exit when Henry called out to them. Bling, Steve, and Scott were already out of the stadium. They’d made a quick beeline for the exit as soon as the game ended, but Logan and Ben had been slower and were now caught in the crush.
“Hey, move it, will ya,” someone called from farther back in the line. Logan gave the speaker a dirty look and closed up the gap between him and the people next in line, wheeling backwards in an arc so he again faced the front of the line.
“Look, there’s a bunch of people coming back to my place now. Why don’t you guys join us?”
The three men looked at each other. “Not tonight,” answered Aaron. “But if you want to give us your number, we'll call later in the week.”
They were now at the gate. Logan pushed out the gate, followed by Ben and the three men. He moved a little way from the gates and stopped. He felt around in the pocket of his backpack, finding a red ballpoint pen and a scrap of paper – a shop receipt. He quickly scribbled out his phone number and address and handed it to Carl, who was the closest of the three.
“Boy, your writing sure hasn’t improved any,” Carl commented, squinting at the scrawl.
“Gee, thanks,” Logan responded sarcastically. “You can read it?”
“Yeah, I can read it. See you later.”
The three of them turned in the opposite direction.
“Who were they?” asked Ben.
"Some guys I knew in school."
"Just as well they said no. Mom is gonna freak out anyway."
“Ya think so?” Logan asked. He looked at Ben, green eyes meeting green eyes and smiling slightly. They were approximately the same height with Logan seated, although the boy was growing fast. He was of middle height for his age, but so had Logan been at the same stage.
“Yep, Dad. You’re gonna be so dead.”
“I doubt it,” Logan responded, gritting his teeth as he forced his way across the rough blacktop of the parking lot, heading in the direction of the Aztek.
“Whatever.” The single word utterance was so Max-like that again Logan smiled. “But don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
*~*~*~
Max came back into the living room after changing Eva’s diaper, and sat down in the corner of the couch. Original Cindy blinked, averted her eyes, and shook her head as Max bared her breast and started feeding the baby. Max caught the movement and looked at her friend, startled. “What?”
“That is just something I never get used to.”
“What?”
“Flashing me like that. It just ain’t fair.”
Max giggled. “Sorry, boo. Little lady is hungry.”
“Just warn me next time.”
“’Kay.” Max smiled down at Eva then looked across at Cindy. “You never wanted one of these for yourself?”
“Nope, no thank you! Original Cindy has enough hassles in her life without an extra mouth to feed. She happy just to be Aunty OC.” Cindy got out of the armchair in which she was sitting and went over to sit next to Max. She squeezed one of Eva’s plump thighs thoughtfully, feeling the baby-soft skin.
Max smiled. “It’s all good.”
“All the time, boo. Besides, anytime I need remindin’, you just come on out and ask me to babysit and I remember lickety-split why I don’t have none. Don’t get me wrong. I love yo’ kids like they’re mine. You my sistah, after all. But at least I get to give ‘em back after. And it ain’t just a lesbian thing. Plenty of lesbians got kids.” OC raised an eyebrow. “There’s ways, ya know.” She smiled at Max. “Just never wanted ‘em. Besides, why go through all that pain when all ya have to do is borrow them now and then.”
Max caught OC’s look and they both laughed. “Never thought I’d be doin’ it either. Not once, let alone twice. Not after Sandeman…and everything that happened…Logan…”
“Well, if you had to hook up with a male, ya could’a done worse. If Manticore’d had its way, you’d have ended up with Alec.”
“Oh, God,” Max moaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“Heeeeee. Aww, Alec’s not so bad provided you beat on his ass from time to time.”
Max rolled her eyes.
“So how long were you and Alec stuck in the closet?” Logan asked, his expression amused.
“About an hour. He was yapping the entire time.”
“He's a yapper.” Logan chucked. “Yeah, stuck in the closet with Alec--you're pretty much describing my worst nightmare.”
Max smiled. It was worth it, though. It got me here.”
“His yapping would have driven me nuts by now.”
Original Cindy gave a deep chuckle. “Yeah, he sure knows how to talk. Guess that’s one of the nice things about Logan, huh? Guy knows when to keep his trap shut.”
“There’s a lotta nice things about Logan, hon, but I don’t gotta go there with you. You heard ‘em all before.”
“Only ‘bout a thousand times.” Cindy giggled.
“’Course, there’s also a lotta annoying things, as well. But…it isn’t a perfect world.”
“Word, sistah. It’s straight off the rack and I ain’t no perfect size three no more.”
Max smiled at Cindy. “Were you ever a perfect size three?” she asked sweetly.
“I ain’t tellin’ you that, sugah.”
Max cocked an ear, hearing the ping of the elevator and voices from outside. “Sounds like they’re home.”
“Sounds like the Mongol hordes are home,” Cindy corrected, hearing Ben running through the apartment, then someone else's more measured tread. Had it been just Logan and Ben, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to hear anything. Logan’s wheels rang nearly silently, except when they needed oil, and Ben was normally quiet on his feet, except when he ran. “I think he brought someone with him.”
“Well, that’s different."
"Max?!" Logan called.
"In here!" Max called back, pulling her top down to avoid "flashing" anyone else. Eva had grabbed hold of a handful of the red fabric and Max had to gently untangle it from her fingers. Max looked up as Scott bowled into the room first and did a neat double-take on seeing Max and Eva.
"Geez, and I thought you might leave Logan and shack up with me," he quipped. “Damn.”
"Ouch," she replied as Eva, hearing the unfamiliar voice, had pulled back, turning her head to see, without releasing Max's nipple.
"Oops, sorry."
"That's okay," Max responded, popping her off. If Eva was that distracted, she wasn't going to argue.
Logan, Bling, and Steve came in, followed by Ben, who had detoured via his parents' bedroom to drop off the backpack.
"Wow, Bling, didn't know you'd started a rock band," Max grinned.
"Hey, Max. A rock band?" The big therapist looked puzzled.
"Yeah," responded Max. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”
Scott gave a huge guffaw of laughter. "You gonna roadie for us, Max?"
"Yeah, sure, why not." She smiled. "How ya doing, Bling? You remember Original Cindy?"
Logan smiled, knowing all was well. He turned and went into the kitchen to start making coffee.
*~*~*~
The evening had been a pleasant interlude. Bling and Steve hadn’t stayed long – always one to keep the needs of his patient in mind, Bling had whisked Steve away as soon as he started to show signs of flagging. Steve was only a few weeks into his rehab program and still tired quickly. It was a slow process, but Bling was also trying to educate him into the fact that his life wouldn’t be all doom and gloom. In a way, meeting up with the two experienced wheelers had been just what the doctor ordered.
It had also been helpful to show Steve that it was possible to achieve a long-term relationship after a life-changing injury. Steve’s girlfriend had dumped him within days of the worksite accident that had resulted in his paralysis, a double blow. Showing him that Logan and Scott had been able to both establish and maintain long-term relationships – that not every woman was going to turn away was yet another step in that education. Scott had met his partner, Claire, during rehab when she was visiting her brother – another patient at the center. They’d started dating as soon as he was allowed out alone, and had been together ever since. And then there were Max and Logan. Bling was able to reflect on how long it had taken them to figure things out – all that denial. Max had never seen the wheels – they had never mattered to her – but it had taken Logan a long time to see past them. They were both strong-willed and had stubbornly refused to acknowledge the truth.
Bling was also convinced that Max was the only reason Logan was still alive – that if it weren’t for her, he would have put a bullet in his brain long before. He was fine now, but Logan’s mental state in the period immediately after he was injured, his depression, were such that suicide had been a very real possibility. He still had his demons – they were part of his psychological make-up and he would never lose them all. In a way, the demons were what gave him his edge. They had caused him to stray from the path set out by his family and had made him into Eyes Only.
Logan had always been a different person with Max around. She brought him out of his self-pity with her wise-ass remarks and no-nonsense attitude. Max cared deeply for those closest to her – she was like the mother octopus, who would sacrifice her own life so her eggs would reach maturity. She only cared for the big picture in an abstract way – where it affected her and hers. She had had to live her life that way in order to survive – to stay one jump ahead of capture or death. Seeing them together now, so happy and comfortable with one another, was a total contrast to their year of denial and the familiar mantra of “We’re not like that”, when it was obvious to everyone around them that they were.
Bling ruminated on this and more as he drove Original Cindy back to the apartment block on Waverly, then took Steve back to the rehab center and settled him in for the night.
*~*~*~
The apartment was quiet now that everyone had left. The kids were asleep. Logan had turned out most of the lights, except for one small lamp in the corner of the living room. He sat in his favorite position at the window, staring into the night. The window was open slightly and a faint breeze stirred his hair. He looked up at Max as she walked into the living room. When their eyes met, they both smiled. He held his hands out in a gesture to invite her closer. She sat on his lap, one arm loosely wrapped around his neck. They touched foreheads, leaning against one another in a moment of relaxed companionship.
“So…about this rock band…” Logan said softly.
“What about it?”
“Where and when’s the first gig?”
“Bedroom, in…oh…any time you like,” Max responded with a impish grin.” At Logan’s mystified expression, she added with a husky laugh. “Well, you can rock my world any day.”
>>FEEDBACK
>>HOME