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 Chapter 4:  Plans For Saturday

The apartment seemed empty when Max went home. Logan washed the breakfast dishes, dried them and stacked them neatly in the cupboard. He went through the morning headlines, checked his email, organized a few file folders and wondered if Normal was giving Max any flack at Jam Pony. Bling came by for therapy, Mrs. Merino stopped by with a banana bread still warm from the oven, and Logan smiled and related and entertained.

He was miserable.

His pride hated to admit it, but while Max was in his care he�d started thinking of her as far more than a "friend with potential." She belonged in his bedroom not as a visitor but as a permanent fixture. Logan wanted her tank tops tangling with his undershirts in the drawer. He wanted the intimacy of bed head and spats over whose turn it was to wash dishes and a partner to play chess with during brown outs. He wanted her to come through the door because it was her home, not because he beeped her to come over.

Was that love, then? Wanting the messy reality over the safe-yet-beautiful fantasy? It sure was different from the glossy magazine version of love. If he played by the whacked-out media�s rules, he should be put down for not seducing Max from the beginning. Logan�s mouth curled up in a private smile as he remembered the kiss they�d shared before she took the dose of Carfanol. That one kiss was hotter than some whole relationships he�d had. He could wait happily for the slow culmination of events, so long as she kept kissing him like that.

It would be completely selfish to beep her for no reason.

Logan rifled through the Carfanol file for the rest of the morning, trying to find some missing link, some angle he�d missed. Maybe if he found something, he could come up with a plan that Max could execute. Then she�d have to come over and�

Disgusted, Logan wheeled away from the computer and looked out the window. A pigeon hopped along the ledge and turned the corner, out of sight. The sky was a dirty gray that foretold another cold rain. It suited his mood but didn�t soothe him.

Logan admitted he couldn�t use Max to save the world. Neither could he use the broken world as an excuse to deepen his relationship with Max.

"Hey." Max�s cheerful voice jolted him out of his brown study and he turned around with a little-boy grin on his face.

"Hey. How are you?"

"Sore," she admitted, shrugging off her backpack. It fell to the floor with a thump and she dropped onto the couch, sprawling against the buttery leather. "Normal was impressed I came in, so I milked him for a long lunch break. Got anything to eat?"

Logan nodded, looking pointedly at her sneakers, which violated the "no shoes on the couch" rule she loved to ignore. She always waited for him to give her the frown before she complied. It was ritual. Comfortable. Familiar, just like the way she always asked for food so casually even though he knew that if he didn�t feed her she�d just go without.

"It�s a hot soup day," Logan informed her. "Just relax and I�ll fix lunch."

"Girl could get used to this," Max sighed delightedly. Logan stopped mid-way to the kitchen, turned the chair around, and wheeled over to the couch. Max opened her eyes and cocked her head to the side. "What?"

"Could you?"

"Could I what?"

"Get used to this."

"This what, you feeding me? Don�t worry, I promise I�ll never take you for granted. Is there gonna be anything green in the soup? Herbal�s on this big B Vitamin kick and we�re all guilted into spending our piddly paychecks on the most horrible vegetables."

"No," Logan said patiently, willing himself the courage to continue. Hopefully his scruff hid the dull blush that crept up his face. "This. Us. Together, and not just for meals."

Max sat up fully and leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. Logan was prepared for a glib response, maybe a total attack on his fragile ego.

"Yes," she said simply. "All you gotta do is ask."

"Ask," he repeated dumbly.

Max laughed low in her throat and relaxed back into the cushions. The look in her dark eyes was the one that made his heart race the most�half minx, half playful kitten. He suddenly realized that he would do anything she asked, no matter how impossible. It made him feel simultaneously powerful and defenseless, arrogant and humble. He wished he had the words to try and explain that paradigm without sounding like a complete babbling idiot, but he was at a loss.

"What do you want?" Max asked softly.

"You," Logan replied automatically.

The Eyes Only Informant Net computer chose that specific moment to start beeping rapidly. It wouldn�t shut off until Logan entered the code, so he reluctantly wheeled over to the desk and made the beeping stop. His eyes automatically glanced over the information that popped up on screen, though he had no intention of following it up at this critical moment. The world could wait for like two more minutes while he tried to say "I love you" to his erstwhile girlfriend.

"Woah." The word slipped out unbidden and Logan scooted closer to the screen. "This is a map of Terry Harbor, north of Seattle. My informant wanted me to zero in on this� huh."

"Unless that�s the location of the makers of my wonder drug, I�m not getting off the couch, "Max said airily. She was used to Logan switching quickly into Eyes Only mode. It was endearing, in a geeky way, but she loved when he got the excited gleam in his blue eyes.

"Get off the couch." Logan didn�t hear Max move, but felt her leaning over his shoulder a second later. "Terry Harbor, population 15, 840. It was a tourist town with a small university before the pulse. But now they�re the largest manufacturer of paper products for the Pacific Northwest."

"What paper products?" Max asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, well, I�m sure most of the supplies get commandeered at the border checkpoint and end up going to the government to sell overseas, same as everything else. There are a lot of warehouses in Terry Harbor, and a huge paper mill. My informant was most interested in this building." Logan pointed to a square outlined in red.

"That�s not near the mill," Max pointed out, looking at the map.

"No. This building is directly connected to the chemistry lab at the University. It should be shut down, like the rest of the school, but if someone opened up the lab I doubt they�d get much notice from the police or the hoverdrones. The school is off-limits and has a reputation for being haunted."

"Well, that�s just ridiculous," Max said.

"In the fall of �09, the students revolted right before fall semester. No one remembers what they were fighting for, things were still crazy back then, but everyone remembers the massacre."

"I know," Max said, pushing away from the desk and going over to her backpack. "I gotta blaze. I promised Sketchy I�d try and kife a head of lettuce on my way back through the market."

"Max, what? This is probably the location of the lab. We have to go check it out."

"I know. And we will. But today, I have to be a good little bike messenger. Tomorrow�s Saturday. We�ll do it then."

"Max," Logan protested, following her to the door. Her abrupt change in attitude baffled him. She�d gone from cheerful to sexy to concerned to aloof in a matter of minutes. Now she was speeding out the door without even mentioning lunch. Something was definitely wrong.

"See ya," she called over her shoulder.

Logan stared at the closed door for a full minute before resignedly wheeling back to the computer room.

Chapter 5