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Entrapment: PART 1

After a rough day at Jam Pony, I get on my baby, my Ninja, and high tail it down back home to see what Kendra's up to. Just as I'm about half way there, I hear my beeper, which is attached to my hip, going off. I sigh, steering to make the turn that takes me to Logan's without even looking down at my pager. Who else would be paging me now?

Going around the evening traffic, I get there in no time, and run up to his place. The old-modeled elevator takes forever, but it gives me time to cool down from the stuff that happened today. Not anything out of the average, just Normal being extra hard on all of us--who knows why, though. Before I even consider being concerned about him, the elevator opens up to the penthouse. As I open the door, I get the distinct impression that I walked into a heated argument between Logan and Bling. I had planned on listening in on the last bits of it, despite how bad that might have been, but with the old flooring, I hit a creaky board and they both quickly turn to investigate the interruption. Logan's face darkens a bit and he turns to go to the kitchen, and Bling just smiles and finishes setting the table. Just as I start to wonder why he seems to be going to all this trouble for a simple meal, Logan clears his throat and I see that he's made his way over to me. 'How did he and his cute little self get over here without me noticing? Woah, where'd that come from?'

I'm not given a chance to think over that as Logan looks up to meet my eyes. "So glad you could come on such short notice. Normal keeping you on a short leash again?"

I mutter an affirmative "yeah" as I walk over to the window to gaze at the view. I also don't want him to see my biting my lip to keep from saying how I'd love it if he kept me on a leash. 'What is wrong with me?!'

Before I can find out if he notices, Bling interrupts the silence. "Well, I'd love to stay, but I've got my own adventures to pursue. Later you two." Lowering his voice as he passes Logan, he adds, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," thinking I couldn't pick it up. Maybe he did, maybe he thought that it would make Logan squirm, and maybe that was the point. Either way, I turn around in time to see the door shut and Logan run a hand over his aggravated face.

Sensing his discomfort, I move to stand behind him, placing my hands on his shoulders. "Bad day?" At his groan I start to knead the muscles under my hands. His back goes straight at the unfamiliar contact, but I keep on going. "It's an old way of relaxing the muscles. Kendra is always going into new ways of how to 'refresh the soul' and garbage like that. But, I've heard that this one works, so just sit still and let me do this." He calms down a bit, which brings a smile to my face; too bad he can't see it.

"Mm, thank you. It's been a rough afternoon, with one of my sources bailing out on me at the last minute for a story and Bling going on about�� stuff�� it just builds on to the stress. I used to hire a masseuse, but with being in the hospital and all lately, I haven't had time."

"Yeah, I understand." After that, we both go into silence. My hands have gone still, just resting on his shoulders. 'Wow, he's pretty toned for someone that can't walk. I guess his muscle conditioning has been keeping him busy since he got out of the hospital. I wonder how toned his chest is. Stop it!' Slowly, I pat his shoulder as I move over to the table, trying to calm my mind and to keep myself from do anything else. I want to focus on the extravagance in front of me, rather than the man behind me. Maybe it's about time that I learn how to express emotion around Logan. Well, I guess I should learn how to express emotion to begin with.

As I overlook the city, I can't help but realize how small and insignificant things seem at this height. The pain and sorrow of the people that populate the scattered homes down there appear less significant in the baffling remainder of what used to be a great city. It also occurs to me for the first time that Logan would agree to live up this high, his being afraid of heights and all. But I guess being up this high gives one a sense of solitude, a place to go to get away from it all. Mmm a place to be all alone with Logan�� 'Okay, what is going on here? Is it "heat" time? I didn't realize that four months had already gone by. Hmm interesting. Better try to keep it in check, and not stay too long, or I might just find out how much Logan means to me.'

I must have released a laugh at the thought, because in a second Logan in situated right beside me with a puzzled look on his face. I smile and make a dismissive motion with my hand. "It's nothing, I was just thinking about how different Seattle can look from this window."

For this I'm awarded with one of his sexy smiles. 'Keep it in check, girl!' "Yeah, it's what really sold the deal for me when I was looking for a place. Many other apartments had the same rooms and extra space, but the view�� that was something that I wasn't able to find anywhere else." After that, he just looks out at the view for a minute, as I just had, but with such intensity that I would have paid anything to know what he was thinking. Before I can get the courage to ask, he turns to me and says, "You know, I just got finished putting the final touches on another culinary miracle before you got here."

I raise an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

A smile comes to his face as he nods and turns to go into the kitchen. "Ahuh, duck l'orange, a personal favorite of mine. Care to join me?"

Before I'm able to say a word, the lights flicker and we're in another brownout.

And Logan and I are left, alone, in darkness.

Oh God.

PART 2

One of the many things I have wished to obtain in the most recent past is the ability to walk again. To not be bound to this horrid chair, that gets nothing but false charity and unwanted sympathy. When I go to the market or get a newspaper, I am subject to at least one look of pity, or an offer of help down the street. Well, I can roll myself to the store, thank you very much. I'm the one that's supposed to be helping others, not receiving help. Not that I'm such an ungrateful bastard and shout at the person, telling them to leave me the hell alone; I just smile and say that I'm thankful for their offer but I'll be fine on my own. Alone. As I always have been. Ever since Mom and Dad died.
I shake my head of those thoughts as I move back into the kitchen and fetch a bucket of ice for the wine. Max will be over soon, and if she's willing--oh please let her be--then we'll be off into a nice, peaceful dinner. No thoughts of pain or sorrow allowed. I should be used to being cold to the pain, but that doesn't mean Max should become accompanied to it, as well. If anything, I must work towards making myself sift through the pain and sorrow, looking toward the good. And in my life, that can be only one thing: Max.

Over the past few months, I have started to let the harsh structure of my callused heart to deteriorate, letting this one rogue to enter its recesses. I feel that I can tell her anything, can open myself up as Eyes Only to her, letting her see me in my weakened state so that I might be able to continue my "quest in the search for justice." Of course, what started out as opening up for a partnership to be founded has expanded into the ever-wonderful blossom of friendship. Max means more to me than my own life, and I'd do anything in my power to keep her from harm, and, if possible, by my side. Of course, it's not only my decision to make; Max has had a rough upbringing--to say the least--and shouldn't be expected to just leap head-first into a family discussion. The day will come when she'll be willing to allow us to be more equal, and I'm willing to wait forever for that day.

Make that was willing. I've grown impatient from this intricate dance we are locked in, and am finally ready to make the first step. That's the entire purpose of the meal.

And to let her know my good news.

I smile wickedly to myself as I give the dinner table one more glance. Perfect, just like I hope the evening is. How I hope the news goes over with her. I can't really comprehend why she might well upset about it--Lord knows I was ecstatic!--but.. well.. Max isn't like other people. Knowing how the military side of her mind works, she might find some odd reason to be threatened. 'Of course she would, you idiot! This will make things different, change how you two are around each other,' I think. 'She was trained to deal with her surroundings, but she's becoming less like a soldier and more like a full-blooded woman everyday--which I know more than I normally let myself acknowledge--and she could find reason to change her mind, uproot, and leave your ass.'

I shake my head. Can't allow myself to put "Max," "full-blooded woman," and "ass" in the same sentence. Causes responses in my body that I haven't had since when Mom and Dad transferred me to a co-ed school in my teens--the witty comments and street smart attitude always could find a home in my heart. And when I met Max it was like being twelve all over again. The second she decided to be more than just the person that broke into my place to get things to fence, I made myself promise not to think of her with the... well... the wrong head. But I slipped up this one time, and I feel myself change, my pulse and breathing to quicken, and a tingly sensation to shoot through my body. I slip back into the kitchen to check on the main course, trying to get my mind from settling on were that little "tingle" has settled. 'Face it, you're a man, and she's.. well... as wonderful a woman as there ever was, ever will be. Just because you haven't pulled her into your lap and kissed her till her lips were purple doesn't mean she has no affect on you.'
Just as I conclude that the duck is ready for serving and adjust the temperature, Bling turns the corner from the office and rests against the doorway. "Everything ready for the woman of the hour?"

I sigh, turning a bit to look at him. "Yes, Max is on her way. It's just about time for her to get off from work, so she should be over anytime now."

" 'Anytime now'? Don't you have her every move documented down to the millisecond around here?" he questions with a smirk pasted on his faced.

I wheel myself back over to the dinning table, not wanting to have to deal with this conversation yet again. I straighten the place mats, making sure the plates are right in the center. "No, Bling. I haven't had to go as far as to go obsessive and possessive over Max. She's her own woman, and can take care of herself."

"Oh, look who's talking!" I wheel quickly around to him, a shocked expression spreading to all corners of my face. "Don't give me that look, Logan. You say that, but then as soon as I leave you'll give her a game of twenty questions to find out just what took her so long."

"I can't help it if I get a little concerned about her from time to time."

" 'A little'?? 'From time to time'? Try with all your being all the time. You care about her much more than you're letting yourself be aware of."

I brush past him into the kitchen to get the pan with the duck, along with a towel to go under it so that I can place it in my lap, and roll it back to the table. I proportion the food according to how much I think we'll both eat, and pour some seasoning over it from the gravy boat I had placed nearby earlier. "I know exactly how much Max means to me, thank you very much. That's actually going to be part of tonight's meal--along with my other news--just as long as I can keep myself from loosing my nerve."

"Then maybe I should stick around to make sure you get the job done."

'Oh, yeah, that'd just be great for the effect I'm going for!' I think. "No, I think this is one thing I can manage to do without my trainer, thank you." The shock of my outburst is evident on his face, and he just stands there for a minute thinking. I take the chance to go get the wine and make sure that it's chilled enough. Seeing that it is, I tuck it into my side and go back over to the table. It's my turn to mock him. "Oh, don't give me that look, Bling. How do you expect me to act, a man that has been able to do anything he wanted, despite the current status of the country, until recently when he was stripped of his ability to walk and has to watch his life be lived threw others. Then, as I start to learn and cope with this, I realize that I've gotten closer to this powerful woman that helps me, that I continue to get closer to her. And while that's normally all well and good, I have no idea if she feels the same, or if she ever could."

At this point I move my head back up to look at Bling, only to find that he is over standing by the table and has taken the wine from my hands and set it in the ice bucket, all the while giving me this look like he can't believe I just admitted true feelings for Max, even if I didn't say to what extent they were. Like he hasn't figured them out, anyway.

Just as I'm about to continue, though, I hear the floor creak somewhere to my right, and as I turn to look I see none other than Max standing there, with this look like "damn, I'm caught" mixed with this other.. look that I can't really figure out. Before I let myself stay and decipher it, I turn to go back to the kitchen, feeling my face turn red. I'm sure this just confirms what Bling already thinks about Max and I, and I can picture him smiling from ear to ear.

I take a reassuring breath, then turn and make my way over to her. I clear my throat, bringing her attention back from where she appears to be staring at the table. 'Don't want to give her too much time to think about what's going on--she might end up bolting.' But the look on her face seems to be something far from one saying she might bolt. Looking up into her eyes, I say, "So glad you could come on such short notice. Normal keeping you on a short leash again?" She says something that sounds like a "yeah" as she breezes past me to go to the window, looking over at the city.

Before I can go over to her and ask if there's anything wrong, Bling speaks up once more. "Well, I'd love to stay, but I've got my own adventures to pursue. Later you two." He lowers his voice as he passes me and adds, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

'He'll do anything to see me squirm, wouldn't he?' I ask myself as I hear the door close. Running a hand over my face, a part of my mind wonders if I should have shaved, or if that will just add to the aggravation that I feel.

I can't really pursue the subject, because thing I know Max is behind me with her hands on my shoulders. "Bad day?" I let out a groan. Just as I start to think of how much of an understatement that is, her hands start to kneed my shoulders.

My back tenses. 'Oh my God! Max is running her hands along by shoulders!' Thoughts like that run through my mind at a million miles an hour while somewhere in the back of my brain I hear her say something about an old thing Kendra said or something, put it doesn't really process. All I know is that Max is touching me, and I feel myself start to relax.

It's really considerate of her to want to do this; I wonder if anything's up. I mentally shake my head. Just because Max is usually all calm and collected, doesn't mean she has hold herself as cold as I do. Well, until tonight. But I better thank her, that way she might do it again sometime.. maybe not just for my shoulders. While I start to feel that tingly sensation spread throughout my body again, I slightly comprehend the fact that I need to talk and that I need to focus that so that I don't ramble. "Mm, thank you. It's been a rough afternoon, with one of my sources bailing out on me at the last minute for a story and Bling going on about�� stuff�� it just builds on to the stress. I used to hire a masseuse, but with being in the hospital and all lately, I haven't had time."

I hear her say something about understanding, but all I can think of is the fact that her hands have stopped massaging, and have gone into more of a caressing movement. Before I can say a thing about it, though, she seems to catch herself, and pats my shoulder before moving off to look at the dining table again. 'I wonder what's eating at her,' I wonder. 'No matter what's been going on at work or whatever she always fights to keep herself in check; but tonight she seems to want to open up more.' I pause my thoughts, moving a bit closer to Max. 'Maybe that's the sign I
need to move things forward.
'
Summoning up my courage, I move even closer to where Max is intently staring out the window. Hearing her sigh, I move all the way up to her, looking up at her in question. She dismisses it, though, saying something about how different out city looks from this height.

This makes me smile.
"Yeah, it's what really sold the deal for me when I was looking for a place. Many other apartments had the same rooms and extra space, but the view�� that was something that I wasn't able to find anywhere else." After that, I just looked out at the view for a minute.
'
Maybe one of these days I could take Max up on that offer to try defeat my fear of heights. Spending time up above the mad rush of the city with just her would be perfect.'
I mentally shake my head.
'Can't be going there right now--got more important things to talk about tonight.'
Turning to her, I say, "You know, I just got finished putting the final touches on another culinary miracle before you got here."

At this one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows arches. "Oh really?"

I smile, almost feeling kiddish. 'Tonight will decide everything, and I think I can finally bring myself to be able to deal with whatever outcome that brings from Max. Just as long as everything goes according to the little schedule I have, then it'll be perfect' Wheeling into the kitchen, I respond. "Ahuh, duck l'orange, a personal favorite of mine. Care to join me?"

But right as I finish my sentence, the lights flicker and we're in yet another brownout.

And Max and I are stuck, alone, in darkness.

Oh God.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
PART 3

As though being this close to Logan didn't usually send chills up and down my spine, but now I'm trapped in his luxurious apartment, with the power out. And I'm so turned on that I could set the place on fire. Too bad I can't seem to remember what they taught us in Manticore about self-control.

I'm able to get my lust-filled mind cleared long enough to hear Logan say something about there being candles and a lighter in the kitchen, and I head over there in pursuit. Once I find them, I light them and place them on the dinner table, which is already covered with in extravagant place mats, china, and silverware. Not to mention the duck l'orange cooked to perfection on each plate, and what appears to be expensive pre-pulse red wine. 'Oh, the guy sure has taste, that's for sure. Mmm I wonder what he tastes like.'

Before I can scold myself on the comment, Logan comes up to the table, placing a hand on my arm. "You ready to eat?" At my nod he smiles then moves over to the chair nearest me and pulls it out. With a smile of my own, I sit, and am soon joined as he rolls over to the other side of the table. I then get this thought: what if he wanted to sit at the table, like he used to be able to? Without giving it a second thought, I up and go over to his side, wrap my arms around him-oh my! He has muscles!-hoist him out of his wheelchair and onto the dinner table's chair. Not having had a chance to see this coming, or to doing anything to stop it-his breath has caught in his throat and his eyes were wide by the time I had him situated.

His eyes rise up to look into mine, question filling them. A smile comes upon my already flush face as he mentally fumbles for words. Before he can start, though, I say, "Thought you might enjoy sitting at the table, for a change." Turning around, I miss the glare I feel upon my back, and sit back down across from him.

By the time I look back at his face, he clamps his jaw shut. He thinks for a minute, over a toast I assume, then a smile comes to his chiseled face, and he raises his glass. Once I raise mine, he says, "To us." 'He probably thought he was getting me back, but he's far from winning this.' Repeating his toast, our glasses clink and we both take a long sip.

Diving into the wonderful-looking feast in front of me, I slide my right foot across the floor up against his. I lift my eyes up a bit to his, but he's focused on his meal. 'Girl, he's paralyzed from the waist down! How dense are you!' I sigh. 'This is going to be harder than I originally thought.'

At the sound, Logan looks up. "Something wrong?"

I swallow the bit of meat in my mouth. "Mm, not at all! This is really good!" I smile as I gesture to my plate. "This is starting to become a favorite of the Cale Family foods."

His beautiful blue eyes sparkle as another smile comes to his face. "Well, I'm glad." I hold his gaze for another minute, even as I take a bit more of the food onto my fork, bring it up to my mouth, and slowly take it in. As I slowly chew and swallow, then lick the fork for good measure, I see his eyes bug out and his Adam's Apple bob as he swallows.

'Ooh, maybe that was a little out of bounds, girl,' I say to myself. But the other side of my mind shouts out, '"Out of Bounds?!?" Girl, you *know* you want him, so just let the game get goin'.' 'Oh, but what about just staying friends until you could make sure he felt the same?' my conscience asks back. 'The way you'll be testing him tonight, girl, you'll know for *absolute* sure how he feels. You'll just have to find out if *everything* below his waist has no feeling.'

With a wicked smile-that I'm not really sure if it was just to myself or not-I go back to my dinner as I slide my foot more up his left leg. Ohh, this is going to be *fun*.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-
PART 4

Getting over the original shock of my current situation, I finally get enough will power together and mention to Max that there are some candles and a lighter in the kitchen. Despite how involved she seems to be in some sort of internal war going on inside her, Max nods and retrieves them.

After she's done placing them on the table, she just stands there, looking down at the food and place mats that adorn it. Not really wanting to disturb her from whatever mindset she's in, but knowing that nothing will come of us just standing there, I situate myself next to her and place a hand on her arm. "You ready to eat?"

She nods, and I take that as my cue to pull out her chair, and am rewarded with a smile to match my own. Except, of course, her's is much more beautiful. Somewhat proud of myself, I move to go across to the other side of the table. But before I can even start to move the already placed chair out of the way, two strong arms lift me up out of my wheelchair and gently plop me down into the dinner table's chair. My breath catches at the thought of what just occurred. 'Did Max just wrap her arms around me and lift me into a chair?!'

My eyes go wide as I look up at her, searching her to find just what possessed to do that. I'm sent into a frenzy of fumbling for words as her face flushes and she shines her mega-watt smile. "Thought you might enjoy sitting at the table, for a change."

Before I can even start, she turns to go back to her chair, and I just stare at her retreating form. Once she situates herself across from me, I clamp my jaw shut, trying not to let her know how much she got to me. 'If she only knew!' Taking a second, trying to figure out a way to possibly get back at her, I smile and raise my glass. With the light from the nearby candles making the crystal sparkle and brighten her eyes, my smile widens as I say, "To us."; 'Ha, that should take her a step back, show her that I can play her game, too.' But she doesn't falter once, just repeats after me before we both take a long sip of the burgundy liquid.

Just as I start to delve into my food, I feel a sock-clad foot rub itself against my left foot. 'Oh my God.. what is going on here?! She has to be aware if what she's doing
, and most definitely what sort of, ahem, reaction it will cause.'

Trying not to entirely loose my cool, I just continue eating, hoping to get my mind to focus on the seasoned duck on the plate, and not the lively woman across from me. My attempt is sidetracked, though, when I hear an exasperated sigh from Max's side of the table. Looking up, I ask, "Something wrong?"

Swallowing, she shook her head. "Mm, not at all! This is really good!" She smiles as she gestures to the plate. "This is starting to become a favorite of the Cale Family foods."

I smile at this. 'Anything to give her a reason to grace me with her presence.' Not wanting to take my eyes from hers, I witness one of the most breath-taking things I've ever witnessed. Picking up her fork, Max took some of the duck, brought it up to her full, pouty lips, and ever so slowly took it in. Oh God. I'm tranced as she takes her time delicately chewing it, then swallowing it down her throat. And if that wasn't enough, she sticks out her little tongue and licks the remaining seasoning off of the fork. I feel my eyes start to bug out, and I swallow, my throat suddenly feeling dry. All the while, all I can think is how much I would give to be that fork.

Before I can even consider finding a way of "getting her back," I see another smile come to Max's face as she goes back to her meal. Just as I start to open my mouth, wanting to say something, anything, that might save some of my remaining dignity, I feel her foot slide up higher on my leg. 'This is going to be an interesting night, that's for sure...'

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
PART 5
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It takes me a minute to get enough blood to my brain to process the fact that I need to try and find out just what Max is up to. Other than my knee. God, she must be out of her mind! Not that I'd object to what she's doing--I am a guy, after all--but, as far as she knows, I'm paralyzed below the waist. So what would be the point of running her foot up my leg? Something's obviously up. Oh, shit, can't say that... can't think that... now it's just... oh Damn, this feels so good... despite how wrong it is. Max couldn't possibly understand what she's doing. 'She's a full-blooded woman, Logan. She knows what she's doing.'

Almost shuddering at the thought of her actually understanding that she was on her way to seducing me, and that she could be wanting to do this, I extend a shaky hand out to my wine glass and take a long sip. Alcohol was never needed as strongly as it was right now. Using my full senses would just make things more difficult than Max was making it. 'Ah, but it's not just her-you're a good part in this, too. I mean, I'm not encouraging it, but I sure as hell am not stopping it! You'd better stop this before it goes too far. Just... tell her that you're not feeling well, and that you'd think it'd be best if she left.' The other side of my brain wants none of this, speaking up. 'Yeah, like she won't feel rejected at that! She may be the most powerful woman you've ever met, but she's still got emotions. Telling her to get the hell out of here might not sit too well.' I release a sigh over the rim of my wine glass, taking another sip as I slip further into thought. 'Well, then how can we get through this without destroying our friendship or completely testing your... ahem, resolve?' Both sides of my mind seem to be quiet at that. 'See, there isn't really one. So, I'm just going to have to decide between the risk of hurting Max's feelings, or making a fool of myself.'

I'm not given another second to think about this, for Max runs her foot further up my leg, getting in serious territory. At this, more motor functions are sacrificed as I try to control myself, and my wine glass drops from my hand, shattering on the table, and sending the remaining burgundy liquid all over my shirt. Cursing under my breath, I move my hand down to pick up the glass but don't see a piece, which gashes the inside of my palm.

Letting out a sharp gasp of pain, I pull my damaged hand to my chest like a wounded animal. In turn, Max leaps up from her chair and is instantly at my side. Taking the napkin she had been using, she pushes it to my soaked shirt, pressing the damp fabric to my chest. She dabs at that for a second, then takes in the sight of my hand. "Lemme go get some bandages." And without another word she's off to the bathroom. Before I can even start to process how to handle this, she's back with antiseptic, cotton balls, and gauze. Kneeling down by my side, she takes my injured hand, face up, by the wrist, and sets it on the table. After checking for any glass fragments she dabs some of the antiseptic on a cotton ball and starts to bring it to my hand. "This is going to sting a bit." She then started to clean out the slight gash, while I bit the inside of my lip. Working carefully but quickly, Max is done in a few seconds, leaving my left hand clean and bandaged.

I raise my hand a bit, admiring her handiwork. Smiling a bit I say, "Thanks Max. It feels better."

She nods, and a smile starts to peck at her lips as well. "I'm glad. But your shirt! It's all soaked!" Before I can say one thing about it being okay, that I could just get it cleaned, she is once again dabbing at it with her napkin. But slowly, the careful dabbing turned into a sensuous caress, her moving her fingers over my now well-toned abs.

Sending a silent "thank you" to myself for keeping myself in such good shape, my head tilts back a bit and my eyes slip shut. 'Logan, this can't happen. Something very wrong is going on in the mind that is Max, cause you know she wouldn't be doing this normally.' 'But it feels so good!!' 'Yeah, it feels like an angel's touch, but it's still not right!' Snapping my eyes open, I look down to see... the deepest, darkest look of wanting, of passion, that I've ever seen. Oh, and did I mention the fact that she's practically groping my chest now?! I take a second to get my bearing, then I try to talk. "M.. Max.. you... what are you..?"

Her hands move farther up my chest, up to the lapels of my shirt, and then they start to slowly undoing the buttons.

"Max... you're.. you're not in contr.. you don't understand what you're..." I'm cut off by this sly look that crosses her face. 'Oh, shit, I'm in over my head, now.' I gulp.

This just gets another smile from her. And the undoing of more buttons. "Just... sit back... and let it happen." Then, she slides her right hand into my shirt, up to the side of my neck, and then slowly starts to pull my face closer to hers.

And all I can think is, 'Oh damn.'

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
PART 6

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

'My oh my, Logan what do we have here?' 'Girl, he's a full-blooded adult male-you *know* what we have here.' 'No! I can't be thinking like this about Logan! All that we have together, that we've fought so hard to keep, could be destroyed if you don't get control of this soon!' 'Pshh, yeah, right girl. You know you want him, and that he wants you. Just bring it up and he'll swipe off the table and--' 'Yes, *thank*you*, I think I know what would happen. As if the image of anything else has been in my mind all night long.' 'Why leave it at an image of the mind? I like to go for the phrase "Ain't nothing like the real thang, baby" which seems to go great for this.'

Pulling all my strength together to get the heated side of my brain to calm the dangerous line of thoughts it's treading, I don't realize until it's too late that my foot has run a bit further up Logan's thigh and into *dangerous* territory. 'I guess the big hands and feet theory is true.' 'Shut up! We aren't--.'

Before I go into "broken record" mode yet again, I get cut off by the sound of glass shattering. When I look up, I see Logan curse as he starts to pick up the remaining pieces of his now destroyed wine glass. I'm taken completely off-guard when he pulls his hand to his chest, hurt by the glass. My lust-crazed mind is silenced as all I can think of his tending to Logan's injured limb. In a second I am at his side, dabbing at his shirt with the napkin I had been using. But seeing the painful expression on that handsome face, I leap up and run off to the bathroom, saying something about needing to get bandages. Getting into his medicine cabinet, my theft-trained hands dig out the essential things I've come in search of and I hurry back to Logan's side. Taking him by the wrist, I set his hand on the table and inspect it for any remaining shards of glass. 'Such beautiful, skilled hands. Scared by a careless accident... which could have been prevented if I could get my mind back to its normal thinking instead of something like a teenaged boy.' Mentally shaking my head, I dab some antiseptic onto a cotton ball and bring it to his hand. Murmuring something about how it might sting, I gently bring the medicated puff down to his cut. Working with shift care I'm done in a flash, his hand all clean and wrapped up.

Moving for the first time in minutes, Logan lifts his left hand up, smiles, then says, "Thanks Max. It feels better."

Looking into his shining blue eyes, I feel a smile come to my face. 'Girl... watch it.' Repeating the words I once said to the girls at Crash, I reply, 'I'm scratchin!' "I'm glad. But your shirt! It's soaked!" Not giving him a second to reply, I pick up my discarded napkin from the table and bring it to his shirt, sopping up the red liquid. It only takes me a minute for my hazed mind to realize that my careful, cleaning touch had taken a sharp turn to erotic. 'Oh my God! He is *toned*! My fingers move up and around his abs, feeling each defined muscle and filing it away in my mind.

In hopes of sending some sort of satisfaction to my lust-filled mind, I look up to Logan's face, hoping for any sort of sign that he's enjoying this the way I want him to. The way I'm enjoying it. 'But that still doesn't make it right!' 'Look at his fine self-it's right!' All I'm greeted with is Logan's very appealing Adam's apple, his head tilted back as he appears to be trying to fight this. 'Maybe he has some idea as to what I'm going through. Maybe he'll make it easier and--get undressed!' I close my eyes for a second in disgust, and soon after I reopen them I am greeted with the crystal blue orbs that can pierce through my soul. Maybe this is getting to him too. Or maybe it's just been too long for him. Desperate to find an answer, I move my hands more roughly over his abdomen, sending chills through my body. I can only assume how crazy all this must look to him. Just as I start to wonder what it'd be like to get control of his lips, he does-just not in the way my body wants-and says something. "M.. Max.. you... what are you..?"

Ignoring his pathetic attempt at speech, I move my hands further up his torso to the lapels of his dress shirt, starting to undo the buttons blocking my vision of what my eyes are craving to see.

"Max... you're.. you're not in contr.. you don't understand what you're..."

I look up from the task at hand and into his eyes, giving him this look that tells him that I know full well what I'm doing. My smile widens devilishly as I see him gulp, and my hands continue on their mission: to unclothe Logan.

Finding my voice, but not one that sounds like my own, I say, "Just... sit back... and let it happen." Then, my right hand works its way into his shirt, coming into contact with his chest-sending a tingling sensation through me-up to the left side of his neck, and I slowly start to pull his face to mine.

This is one cat that should have been fixed.

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Chapter 7