Hey there,

Okay. . .when we last left everyone, Logan was in the middle of explaining to Geiar how they got together to begin with. This is the second half of his story.

I'd have to rate this one probably PG-13 due to sexual content (although it's still pretty tame) and some language. Beyond that there's no other warnings, so I hope y'all enjoy.

Toodles,

Jen

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Generic Disclaimer

Sabe De La Torre -- is the original Creation of Julie of Providence

Geiar N'Dege -- is my original character. (This is Geiar V.1 -- she is the first, and not the same one who appears in Primary Access.)

Logan West -- is the original creation of Brian of Baltimore.

Raith Westheimer -- is the original creation of Zach of Taos.

Mr. Johnson -- is my original creation inspired by Jason of Portland, our game master.

Category -- Adventure/Drama

Rating -- PG-13 -- Contains some strong language and violence.

Disclaimer -- This is original fiction, inspired by a year's worth of roleplaying while living at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque. All characters belong to their respective owners, I'm not writing for profit here, just for fun.

To the Ipswitch Crew -- Although time and geography may have robbed us of our frienship and I cannot properly ask you for permission to use your creations, I hope that my humble attempts at breathing life into a memory meet with your satisfaction and enjoyment should you ever find this work before you.

By Jenna.

The blare of a car horn outside startled Logan into consciousness. Sitting up he immediately balled his hands into fists, anticipating an attack. Only after a quick look around the room did he remember he was home. He hadn't so much as taken his jacket off the night before. His only goal was to pull the telescope from his closet, point it exactly one mile away, three stories up, and look through it until he saw Geiar safe in her apartment. He didn't remember falling asleep.

The book fell into his lap as he wrestled with his jacket. He picked it up and opened it, still baffled by the strange writing inside. They were long, curving, hand written strokes of ink on pages so soft they felt like fabric under his touch. He carefully counted the number of times he came across that mark; a simple arch, a kind of half circle, and a dot beneath it. A 'fermata' Sabe had called it. Like in music, the symbol that means to sustain sound. There were only a handful of pages and without thinking, Logan pulled them from the book and cast the rest aside. Realizing what he'd just done, he picked the book up again and studied the damage. It's old, he rationalized. They can't expect perfection.

He returned to his vigil, the torn pages still in his hand. The wall of windows on this side of her apartment gave him an unobstructed view into her life, but he didn't see her. Instead her apartment sat empty, as if she hadn't been there for days. The kitchen was neat, so she hadn't cooked anything recently. In the living room every computer was on standby, not even the digital bars on her stereo were dancing. Silence. . . It wasn't a good sign. Geiar loved her music, it was always on whenever she was home. Maybe she's still sleeping, he thought, trying to assuage the guilt he felt for leaving her. Impatient with the empty apartment, he moved into the bedroom. She had set up shoji screens by the windows for privacy, but he was uphill from her and easily looked over them toward the full length mirror in the corner. The reflection was empty.

"To hell with this," Logan said, pushing the telescope away from him. He reached for the cordless phone on the nightstand and dialed her number. Two rings, he looked through the telescope again. Three rings, her machine would pick up on the next one so he hung up. Waiting a moment for the machine to reset, he dialed again. "Pick up the phone," he ordered. Three rings and he hung up. Trying again, Logan was ready to hang up when the ringing stopped.

"Hello?" She had been asleep. Her voice was hoarse and uncertain.

"You're home," Logan said, not really sure what to say next.

"I'm home." Geiar waited for him to say something more and when he didn't answer right away, she hung up. Logan looked at the dead receiver in his hand, then dropped back onto his bed, content at least, that she was safe.

Geiar looked around her apartment. Everything was still an unfocused haze as she once again lifted the receiver from the cradle. Staring at it for a moment, she had to work to remember if the phone call had been real or part of a dream. She decided it was real and dropped the receiver again. Despite her guilt for leaving them last night, she didn't want to face them, especially Logan. Especially after how she behaved.

She landed on the bare wood floor beside her bed and tried to remember how she managed to fall asleep with her pants unbuttoned and around her knees. Geiar decided it wasn't worth it as she wiggled out of what was left of her clothes. She stumbled into the bathroom and proceeded to wake up under a warm spray of water.

The rush of water in the bathroom dropped into silence as Logan emerged dripping and wrapped in a towel. "Did you say something?" He asked.

"Gotten back into the spy game?" Raith said, pointing to the telescope still staring out the window. He sat down and peeked through, trying not to seem like he was too concerned with what he might or might not see. "Don't think she'd appreciate this," he added, still peering through the glass.

"Then quit looking." Logan said, pushing the telescope off target. "She's home anyway, I called." He collected some clothes then dropped his towel, unconcerned with Raith's presence. Raith turned his attention toward the handful of pages scattered on Logan's bed.

"What's this, a bribe?"

"Peace offering," Logan said. He balled the soaked towel in his hands then threw it, hitting Raith square in the side of the head. Raith growled, wiped his face then threw the towel back.

"You know, if they find out these pages are missing. . ."

"The book's just gonna end up on someone else's shelf you know that. They'll chalk it up to age." Logan finished dressing and returned to where Raith was sitting. "What about my car? did you get a hold of Sabe?"

"She's picking it up. . .Says you owe her one." Raith laughed. "Sounded like she already has something in mind. Might be sizing you up as her next designated date."

"If it'll get me my car back, I'll even take her shopping," Logan said.

"Now there's a fate worse than death."

It was afternoon and Geiar was trying to stay interested in her work. Last night's mission was a complete disaster. It took her months to track down that book and because of one idiotic decision she lost it. Okay, two idiotic decisions, Geiar thought, desperately trying to wipe the memory from her mind. As if Logan kissing her wasn't bad enough, she kissed him back. And for one brief moment when his arms came around her, she forgot where she was or why she was there. Feeling him penetrate her mouth startled her into pushing him away, but Geiar refused to admit she enjoyed feeling him so close. The slap had been an afterthought; something to show she meant business the entire time.

"I need a life," she said to herself. Maybe Sabe's right, if I went out maybe this wouldn't happen. She got up from her spot on the couch and walked toward the windows. Outside the sun was setting on another late summer afternoon, but the heat was still oppressive. She stood in front of a old metal fan for a few minutes willing the sweat on her body to evaporate. Giving up, she crawled through an open window onto her balcony, hoping that a wayward breeze might cool her.

Geiar watched the city slip into night as her mind filtered through thoughts of Logan, the book and how she was going to make it through Sabe's questions tomorrow. She always had questions, and when she found out what happened? Geiar winced just thinking about it. Logan was her closest friend, someone who knew her more intimately than casual sex could ever offer. And it was that reason more than any other that Sabe wanted to see them together. Platonic friendships were a myth, she said, sex always entered the equation even if all they did was ignore its existence.

But Sabe was a hopeless romantic. With the emphasis on hopeless, Geiar mused as she crawled back through the window into her apartment. She wanted to see everyone fall in love, no matter how ridiculous or improbable. Geiar returned to her desk and the tall stack of research sitting in the center. She dropped into her chair and began thumbing through it. File folders brimming with photographs, notes, reproductions of ancient documents - a paper trail to a myth. But none of it helped, almost like they were designed to mislead. She hoped that book would be different. Even just holding it she felt some sort of power coming from it's pages. But it was gone now and she couldn't tell anymore if it was the book, her excitement at finding it. . .or him.

Logan slouched on his bed. The telescope was still staring out the open window inviting him to peek through, just one more time. Instead he fought the urge to check on her by reaching under his bed and retrieving a dog-eared sketchpad. There was a short pencil tucked into the spiral binding and he pulled it out hoping to lose himself in his art. Since he was a boy sketchpads had been his journals. His joys, sorrows, worries and dreams were all recorded in there. He wasn't even conscious of his hand as it moved across the page. Instead, Logan stared blankly at the whiteness of the paper behind it, confident that the drawing would turn out as it should.

The first sketch was finished and he turned the page without stopping. The room was dark when he finally finished and he had to turn on a lamp to see his work. The first drawing was nothing special; the view from his window, complete with the telescope still aimed and ready. But the second mesmerized him. It was of himself, lying in bed with a woman. She was sleeping, and her long dark hair tumbled over his arms as he held her. Logan refused to believe it was Geiar, but he knew it couldn't be anyone else.

Geiar as a sexual creature was a foreign thought to him. Sure she cared about her appearance as much as hygiene and good taste required, but it was a far cry to say she ever took advantage of her natural assets. Ponytails and pants, it had become her uniform. But her 'anti-sexual' attitude went well beyond what she was wearing. She almost never talked about anything remotely sexual. In the five years that Logan had known her, she never mentioned going on one date, with anyone, anywhere. She actively avoided those kinds of situations and wouldn't even admit to finding someone attractive. She condemned Logan and Raith for their habits, saying one night stands weren't any improvement over do-it-yourself sex. No one was ever able to figure out why she was like that, not even him. And he knew her better than anyone. After a while they just chalked it up to being "Geiar" and left it at that.

Logan dropped the sketchpad into his lap and leaned against the headboard. His hands filled with the feeling of her. It had been a while since he last noticed how small she was compared to him, but now he imagined he could almost encircle her waist with his fingers. The idea delighted him.

Without trying, last night's memory drifted back into his mind. He closed his eyes and felt her against him once more. How for one brief moment her body weakened in his arms, her breasts crushing against his chest. And that kiss. . .The flavor of her still lingered in his memory as a breeze wafted through the open window caressing his cheek the way she might. Slowly, as if in a daze, he opened his eyes and stared at the drawing in his lap.

"What have you done to me?" He asked.

"Where you going?" Raith asked as Logan stalked past. Raith watched from the comfort of the sofa as Logan circled the apartment looking for his watch. "You're not gonna do something stupid, are you?"

"No." He stopped, patted down his pockets, then returned to his bedroom as Raith followed.

"Where you going dressed like that?" Raith pointed to Logan, who had stopped looking for his watch and began buttoning his white cotton dress shirt. He tucked the tails into a well cut pair of slacks then sought out some appropriate shoes. "Is there a funeral I don't know about?"

"Just going to get a beer." Logan eyed Raith through the reflection in the mirror. "You're welcome to join me." He watched Raith amble toward his bed and pick up the sketchpad he'd carelessly left out. Raith stared at the picture for a while then dropped it back on the bed.

"We agreed, remember? She's off limits."

"I know." Logan hadn't forgotten that particular agreement. It was a silent understanding with Sabe, considering she had been Raith's date once upon a time. But when Geiar joined the team they both agreed to keep their distance. Of course over the years distance became a matter of degree, but it was always clear where the boundaries lay. Until now. "I'm just going for a beer."

"Where? A country club? You're wearing your goddam church clothes!" Raith watched as Logan ran a hand over his shirt like the realization of what he was doing had just struck him. Then, his determination returned and Logan turned to leave. "I'm not shitting with you." Raith was getting angry. They had made that agreement in good faith knowing that Sabe and Geiar deserved more from a man than either one of them was willing to offer. "Look, you want a piece of ass then go get some, but not her!"

Logan grabbed at Raith and shoved him into the doorframe of his bedroom, his dark eyes flaring. "She's not a piece of ass!" The two men glared at each other for a moment before Logan backed down. "I'm just going for a beer," he repeated, smoothing the fabric of his friend's shirt. Raith watched as Logan collected his keys and left.

Logan walked into a rowdy, unkempt place that smelled like stale beer and cheap cigars. in the far corner a band wailed on a stage made of wooden crates reinforced with plywood and cinderblocks. The chicken wire was missing again. What the band called music crashed over the large throng of people gathered near the bar rallying for the attention of two frantic bartenders who were filling orders as quickly as possible.

"Hey handsome, what are you doing here?" The voice came from a tired, but happy looking redhead who wrapped one free arm around Logan's waist while the other balanced a small tray of full beer mugs above her shoulder.

"Hi, Mandy," Logan said. "Slow night?" He winked at her as she threatened to topple her tray onto him. "They going anywhere?" He asked, motioning to the mugs.

"Just some customers. . .Take one if you want," she said, presenting him the tray. Reaching into the pocket of his slacks, Logan pulled out a modest roll of bills, peeled the first one off and folded it into a narrow rectangle. "What are you doing? It's on the house." Mandy handed him a mug before he could drop the bill on her tray. Logan rolled his eyes at her, then pushed the bill behind the open buttons of her shirt before accepting the proffered beer. "Hey, I'm a waitress not a dancer," Mandy argued as she fished the bill from her cleavage.

"Now there's a waste of talent."

"Thanks. . .Speaking of talent, where's Raith?" She looked around to make sure she hadn't missed him somewhere, and was disappointed to find she hadn't.

"He's staying in tonight."

"Hmm. . .Well. . .Two out of three ain't bad. Isn't that how the song goes?" She noticed the confused look pass over Logan's face and decided an explanation was in order. "Geiar's here," she said, and Logan immediately started looking for her. When he found her she was sitting in a booth, her back was to him and she was alone. As he watched, someone approached and Logan couldn't help but size the guy up. He was tall with sandy blonde hair; a little too neat to live in this neighborhood. She smiled but shook her head and sent him away.

Mandy watched Logan, who was too intent on Geiar to notice he'd become the subject of observation as well. "He's been doing that all night," she said. "More than enough times to know she's not gonna change her mind." Mandy saw Logan smile, but his gaze didn't waver. "She's been sitting there for hours. Same bottle of beer. . .What's up?" She waited for him to answer, but he was still watching Geiar and it made Mandy wonder if he'd heard her at all. "Logan?"

He snapped out of his trance when he heard his name. "Hours, huh?"

"You were ogling your friend, Logan." She didn't expect to see him blush. He cleared his throat and tried to answer but she didn't let him. "I'd much prefer it if you'd ogle me," she said, trying to downplay her observation.

"Rough day at work yesterday," Logan offered. "I'm on her shitlist, right now." He looked back in Geiar's direction to see that she was picking at the label on her beer bottle. Small flakes of paper dropped from her fingers as she cleaned off more of the amber colored glass. "I wasn't expecting her here."

"I don't think she's seen you," Mandy offered. "Maybe you could just hang by the bar or something?"

"I gotta talk to her. Was just hoping to have some time before I had to. Y'know?" Logan looked at his mug of beer, then back at Mandy.

"Well it's about 40 feet between here and there - drink fast!" She smiled then patted his chest as she left to deliver the remaining beers. Logan took a drink before he pushed his way through the crowd toward her booth.

"Hey baby, come here often?" Logan drawled as he approached. Geiar spun in her seat determined to make sure this was the last time she was bothered.

"Can't you. . ." She stopped mid-sentence when she saw Logan and began wishing it was the other guy instead. "You. . .Go away." She turned her back to him, but he sat down anyway.

"You can't ignore me forever." Logan leaned over the table and tried to get her attention. "I'm sorry about last night," he said. "It happened. It's over. Come on. . ."

As far as Geiar was concerned, there was no way a simple apology would soothe away that indignity, so she ignored him. She picked at the bottle, trying to keep herself from talking, but after she ran out of label, Geiar realized she'd have to say something eventually. "It doesn't matter anyway," she said. "I'm fine."

"I don't believe you." Logan knew better than to think she wasn't upset over what happened, no matter how badly he wanted to. He settled into the booth, intent on staying until he got a believable response from her. Geiar's emotions weren't always so easy to read, except for anger. She was never good at hiding that. But he considered himself lucky, at least he could try to do something about it. Her other emotions were a mystery most of the time, and Logan hoped he hadn't completely misread her. Despite her anger, she had kissed him in a way that must have meant more than just retaliation. Or so he hoped. If he was wrong, he wasn't sure he'd be able to save himself a second time.

They sat in silence as the bar emptied of people. The band stopped playing and began packing up their equipment. "You two doing alright here?" Mandy asked, bringing a second mug for Logan and eyeing Geiar curiously. "Want another, G?"

"Sure, what the hell." She handed the empty bottle to Mandy who looked it over, then showed it to Logan.

"Frustrated?" Mandy asked, joking.

"In a matter of speaking," Geiar replied. "Unfortunately, I'm stuck with him." Her eyes slid over to Logan who decided it was in his best interest to stay out of the conversation.

"Oh don't worry, you coulda done a lot worse," Mandy replied. "I'm sure he's got some redeeming qualities." She winked at Logan. "Like reaching things on high shelves, or killing bugs?" Mandy leaned toward Geiar and whispered, "not to mention he makes great arm candy." Geiar rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. She knew Mandy was just trying to lighten the mood, there was no reason to be upset with her when the target of her wrath was just a bottle's toss away. As Mandy left, Geiar leveled her stare at Logan, who had buried himself in his beer mug. He drank heartily then pushed it aside, wiping a swath of foam from his upper lip. She didn't speak to him.

The night aged and soon 'last call' sounded from across the bar, but there was no hurry to leave. They had all the benefits of being regulars including service after hours. But Geiar wanted to leave. She had more or less been able to enjoy herself before Logan showed up. But now she was stifled and she couldn't enjoy her misery in peace. He was still sitting across from her, just the same as he had over an hour ago and she knew she wouldn't be rid of him any time soon. He had the annoying ability to out-stubborn her, and what was worse, he could do it without breaking a sweat. Geiar could only be angry for so long and he had outlasted her. She propped her head on her hands and stared. He looked back, the picture of innocence, and Geiar slumped forward. At least he had enough courtesy not to smile at his victory. "You humiliated me," she confessed quietly. "Why did you have to kiss me?"

"Hey, you didn't have to kiss me back. Why did you?"

"Somebody had to show you how to do it right." She glanced up in time to catch the look of surprise that flashed across his face. "I'm just saying that if you kiss every woman like that it's amazing you ever get laid."

Logan grew defensive. "Hey I wasn't trying to seduce you, it was business," he said. "If you hadn't been so damn stubborn. . ."

"That book was mine!" Geiar stopped suddenly when she realized she'd yelled in an empty bar. "You had no right," she finished softly. "What were you doing there? And why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't want you to know. If you knew you'd want the book for yourself and we couldn't let that happen. I needed the cash."

She stopped short with his explanation. Geiar knew about his debts and suddenly she felt a pang of guilt for her actions. But she didn't know at the time, and as usual he didn't tell her. "It would have been different," she said.

"You mean you wouldn't have fought me for it?" Logan asked, incredulously.

"Well, yes . . . But not like that." Geiar turned the sweating bottle in her hand. "We could have compromised if you'd told me something."

"Like what, I let you have the book and. . ." Logan motioned to Geiar awaiting her response.

"I help you pay Thorly off just like I wanted to since the beginning." Geiar watched as Logan shook his head and chuckled.

"It was my debt," he said.

"Because of me." She watched as Logan climbed out of his side of the booth and sat beside her, trapping her between the back wall of the bar and himself. "I'm not kidding. You took that loan to help me, the least you could do is let me help you pay it off."

"You were going through enough," he said. Geiar dropped her shoulders and stared flatly at him. Logan smiled. "Besides, he's paid."

"With the book? That was it? It's over?" Geiar brightened at the news. For nearly two years he stonewalled every one of her efforts to help him pay it off. He was stubborn that way. Responsibilities were his alone and Logan never allowed himself to share the burden.

"Well, tomorrow. . .I'm gonna find him after meeting with Mr. Johnson. So quit arguing about it, okay?" He reached into his pant pocket. "Besides, I've got something for you."

"Logan if it's what I think, you can leave it for the ladies." She winked at him when he looked up, surprised by her answer. She even surprised herself with the off color remark and silently reprimanded herself for having to say it today of all days. With last night still fresh in her memory, Geiar felt a light blush pass over her cheeks as she struggled to keep from embarrassing herself any further. Logan considered an answer, but decided not to as he finally pulled the torn pages from his pocket.

"They're from the book," he said, spreading the pages on the table for Geiar. He wasn't sitting much further away than he had been the night before and she could smell the warm, clean scent of his skin and the faint tinge of beer on his breath. Logan never wore cologne, she remembered. He explained once that it could give him away at a bad moment. It was a matter of stealth, he said. This was the first time Geiar ever really noticed, but she liked it's absence. Cologne, she reasoned, would only be a cheap advertisement for his masculinity. And that was something that succeeded well enough on it's own.

One arm was resting on the back of the booth, just inches away from her shoulder. She could almost feel him touching her and Geiar wished he would, just casually, place his arm around her. It wouldn't be so strange she reasoned, he's done it before. But she knew it wasn't just a friendly gesture from him that she craved. She wanted to feel that shy, trembling touch of uncertain hands and the sudden grasping desire that comes with finding something you never knew you wanted. She wanted to feel him again the way he felt last night. But she satisfied herself with sitting in the crook of his arm and feeling the warmth his body radiated.

"You ripped them out?" She asked, surprised by his actions. Who knows how old that book was, and in one day it went from priceless to worthless. But Logan dismissed her concerns, he pointed to the pages.

"Look, the symbol. It's just like yours." His finger reached up to touch the hidden mark on her forehead but failed to reach it. Instead, his hand fell away as he neared her face, afraid to move any closer. Logan cleared his throat. "It was just going to an art collector anyway, I don't care about them." Geiar smiled at the comment as she tried to read the pages, but the writing was in some other language and she couldn't understand a word.

"This is gonna take a while," she said still trying to read the words. "I can't believe you did that." Impulsively, she turned and hugged Logan as thanks.

"You know I look out for you," he said, as his arms came around her body. Logan held her a little too closely, for a little too long, but she didn't push him away. And when Geiar released him a moment later, she was smiling.

"Come on, let's get out of here," she said, folding the pages and tucking them into a pocket. "I need some fresh air." The booth was getting a little too cozy. Granted the ugliness of last night had all but faded and she was enjoying the company, Geiar didn't need to make a fool out of herself. Whatever she was feeling was just the after effects of last night. Logan was her friend and Geiar would never forgive herself if he ever found out what she was thinking. It's only a crush, Geiar thought. I'll die if he finds out about this. As she climbed from the booth she saw him waiting for her, hand extended and Geiar decided she'd allow him that much. Besides, holding her hand was nothing new, they'd done that in the past. Many times they never even realized they were doing it until someone, usually Sabe, pointed it out. Their fingers wove together and her palm disappeared within the clasp of his hand as he led her between empty tables toward the door.

It was after 2 in the morning and the damp chill of a summer night had settled firmly into the city. Geiar silently cursed her decision to wear shorts as a shiver took over her body. As they walked, Geiar explained that the fellow in the bar was the same guard who had escorted her from the building the night before.

"We're crawling through sewers and you had an armed security escort?" Logan laughed at the turn of events. "And to think I was worried about you!"

"I would have preferred the sewers," she argued. "I never knew an elevator ride could last so long!" She continued to play out the details of her flirtatious escort to Logan's amusement. "He was holding a gun when he asked me out!" There was a touch of disdain in her voice, but Logan's laugh softened it until Geiar was joking right along with him.

After a while their conversation died and Logan searched for a way to continue. He didn't want to walk her all the way home in silence. "I'm not really that bad of a kisser," Logan said, flustered by the attack of insecurity. "I was in a hurry." His attempt at a casual remark failed pitifully as Geiar again burst into laughter.

"You're still worried about that?" She couldn't control her laughter and Logan glared at her indignantly. "So it was a bad kiss, big deal! Like you said you weren't out to impress me."

"Still. . ." Logan jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. "Maybe not impress but pleasant would be nice." He could feel his cheeks heat and Logan silently thanked the night for shrouding his embarrassment. "The one chance I have to kiss you and it sucks," Logan muttered, only half to himself.

"I didn't know you were looking for a chance." Geiar looked up at him and watched as Logan struggled to find an answer. "I'm just playing with you, I know what you meant."

"Do you really." Logan dropped his head and looked at her through a few toppled curls that dangled loosely from his forehead. He pushed them back as Geiar smiled and looked away.

"Yeah, just that everyone wants to. . .Uh. . .Make a good impression in those circumstances." Now she was struggling as the conversation began to turn personal. "I mean. . .Well. . . You know what I mean."

"So that explains your actions, then?" Logan asked. "You wanted to impress me?"

"I never said that. . ."

"Just now you did. You said 'everyone'." He had gotten her in a circle and they both knew it. Geiar sighed and wandered away from him to look into some darkened shop windows. Logan hadn't paid much attention to her appearance before now but he realized she was wearing shorts, cut-offs to be exact, and a small, almost snug fitting t-shirt. It had been a long time since he'd seen her dressed that way and Logan couldn't help but follow the line of her coltish legs up until they disappeared under the frayed edges of her shorts.

She must have felt his eyes on her because just as his gaze reached her back, she turned around. "When did you start wearing shorts?" He asked, taken by her appearance.

"Oh come on, you know this is what happens to all good jeans when they die."

"They go to heaven," Logan said, blatantly continuing to study her figure and the brief bit of denim resting comfortably around her hips. His appreciation of her body made Geiar uncomfortable and she looked down, again reprimanding herself for not changing. She crossed her arms and began walking, careful to keep some distance between her and Logan. She'd seen that look in his eye before, but never directed at her. It was usually the look he got when he saw what he wanted, be it a woman or a prize. But then again, she knew that for Logan sometimes those two were one in the same.

Logan noticed her discomfort and apologized. "I guess I never noticed before."

"Noticed what?" Geiar was wary, but curious. This was dangerous territory for her, especially tonight with thoughts of Logan and intimacy already in her head. Until this weekend she had always seen him as a friend. Male to be sure, but never as the man he was. But tonight it was changing with everything he did. The strength and size of his body compared to hers was intimidating, but his gentility invited her closer. Just the promise of an accidental touch kept her from wandering too far away, despite her discomfort under his gaze. Geiar's head was spinning. She couldn't decide if her imagination was going into overdrive or she was seeing things as they really were.

"Never told you?" Logan cleared his throat. This was the beginning, right here, he thought. After this, if he fails, the recovery. . .Well there may be no recovery. "I'm kind of. . .Well. . .I guess you could call me a 'leg man'." He glanced over at Geiar and found that her expression hadn't changed. She was still walking, her eyes moving between some distant point, and the cracks in the concrete. Geiar repeated his words, her voice flat and unreadable. Logan panicked.

"Well I mean I like the total package, don't get me wrong it's not a fetish or anything. " He winced and wished desperately he could take those words back and try again. "It's just. . .A woman with nice legs. . ." He lifted his hand as if to show herself as an example then sighed and shook his head. "It's a shame you wear pants all the time."

"I don't know about that. If I didn't you might not get any work done!" Geiar laughed and Logan looked at her, a mixture of defiance and embarrassment taking up residence in his face.

"Not so!" Logan changed tactics. "Of course wearing pants all the time has its advantages."

"How?"

"Well nights like this, when you don't. . ." He moved closer to Geiar and brazenly wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "They make for pleasant surprises." Logan expected her to move away from him again, but she didn't so he let his arm stay. "I think Sabe would be happy to see you getting in touch with your feminine side."

"What? I'm just wearing shorts! How am I doing that?" It had been a battle since the very beginning between Geiar and Sabe over the whole idea of femininity. Something for the most part they had agreed to disagree on, but nevertheless still came up whenever they had to do something that was a little dressier than usual.

Logan pulled Geiar to a stop and turned her to face another shop window. Their reflections were clearly visible in the darkened glass. "Look at you," he said, leaning over her. His hand dropped from her shoulders to her waist, tracing the outline of her figure with a light touch. Until now she had held her arms crossed in front of her, but Logan gently pulled them away from her body so she could see her whole reflection in the window. "You. . ." He decided it was time to lighten things up. "Are a real hottie."

"Hottie?!?" Geiar grimaced at the word then pulled away from him. "I can't believe you called me that." Her voice was tinted with disgust. "What a disappointment, Logan. I was expecting something better from you!"

"Excuse me?" He feigned insult. "What do you mean 'better'?"

"If you're gonna be practicing pick-up lines then at least make them worth my time. That one was just terrible!" Geiar didn't want to admit that he had nearly hooked her --until the 'H' word.

"Oh. I'll have to try better, then," he said, reprimanded. "Gimme a minute. " Logan grinned when Geiar laughed beside him. Maybe this plan will work after all, he thought. They began walking again and Geiar wondered what he had in store for her. She hadn't meant to challenge him, that was the last thing she wanted to do right now, but it seemed that the game was on.

They crossed a street and approached a small park. There had once been an abandoned building there, but in a civic attempt to beautify the neighborhood someone tore it down and dropped a small park in its place. It still wasn't much to look at. The trees were short and skinny, eternal saplings forced to grow in the shadow of an industrial turned residential area. Grass sprouted in places and a few park benches were still fixed to their concrete foundations. In the center of the park was a fountain that had been dry since either of them moved to the neighborhood. But at night it took on the graceful bath of moonlight that hid the collected dirt in its basins and smoothed the peeling, once blue paint.

A shiver passed through Geiar and she twitched, bringing her arms tight around her. They were still a few blocks from home. Immediately, Logan stopped and pulled her toward one of the benches. He tugged the tails of his shirt from his slacks and began unbuttoning the collar.

"What are you doing?"

"You're cold." He didn't stop undressing as he answered her. "Besides, I've got a t-shirt on under this."

"You're nuts, you know that?" Geiar watched him peel the shirt open, revealing a white cotton undershirt that stretched over the gentle swells of his body. He glared at her stubbornly, but she continued. "It's too big," she said. "I'll swim in that thing!"

Logan sat down and draped the shirt over her back. "I don't care what you do in it as long as you're not cold." He smoothed the collar over her shoulders and began working at rolling a sleeve. It always surprised him to see the differences in their sizes. It was something he never really paid much attention to, but there was probably half a foot of fabric hanging past the tips of her fingers. "You look like a kid," he said.

"It's your fault." Geiar flapped the unattended sleeve near his face until Logan caught it and began rolling it to match the other. When he was done she dropped on the bench beside him. She looked down at the voluminous fabric around her and smiled. "I think guys just like any excuse to see a woman in their clothing," she said.

"Of course! It's easier to get a woman out of our clothes than her own." Logan waited for the gasp and jab to the side he knew was coming, but didn't fend it off. Instead he flinched as if she'd really hurt him.

"You're a dog, you know that? You really are!" She grinned wickedly and Logan decided it was his turn to act indignant. He pushed playfully at her as Geiar fought back, trying to block his advance with little success. She nearly backed herself off the bench, but was at least quick enough to grab a hold of his arm and hang on before she fell to the pavement below. He threatened to let go as he held her tipping precariously over the side of the bench. Between laughs, Geiar begged him not to let her fall and tried to climb into the safety of his arms, but he held her at a distance. Logan had no intention of dropping her, but he did torment her. Tipping her a little further back, Geiar screamed and her legs flailed as she tried to keep from falling.

Logan finally relented and lifted her from the awkward position. When he righted her, she ended up in his lap clutching tightly to the thin fabric of his shirt, breathless and inches away from his face. "All that for falling two feet off a park bench," he joked. Embarrassed, but unwilling to admit to her silliness, Geiar stood and straightened her clothes then decided to explore the park a little. Logan watched from the bench as she toured the darkened area, finally ending up at the fountain. She had left his shirt unbuttoned, and it billowed behind her like a cape while she walked.

In the distance she turned and saw him watching. The calm way he sat on the bench and followed her as she walked was unnerving. She was suddenly on display and every motion felt exaggerated and self conscious. She glanced his way again and thought she could see him smiling. Which, she thought, was ridiculous to say the least. But he was still looking her way. Then again, where else would he be looking? It was the middle of the night and from what she could tell, they were alone. Geiar quietly reprimanded her overactive imagination and returned to her exploration. She didn't see him stand, but a moment later she heard an unmistakable cry. Spinning around she saw Logan standing on the sidewalk, his arms held slightly away from his body, head tilted back, his t-shirt nearly glowing in the moonlight. He was baying at the moon. Geiar's jaw hit her chest. What in the hell is he doing, she thought. She was still staring at him when he ambled up to her.

"Problem?" He asked, innocently.

"You're insane!" She still couldn't close her mouth as he stood before her chuckling.

"You did call me a dog. I was just living up to my reputation."

"Oh so what, you were calling friends?"

"No. . ." Logan flashed a playful grin her way. "Mating call."

"Jesus. . ." Geiar couldn't help but laugh. "Okay I'll give you points for originality, but Jesus!" She jumped onto the rim of the fountain and began walking around it like a tightrope-walker; her arms raised parallel to the ground for balance. Every now and again she'd teeter one way or another, but never quite enough to fall.

"You don't think it would work?" He asked, watching as she moved away from him.

"Well did anyone answer you?" She rounded the fountain in time to see him raise an eyebrow at her. "That was not a response!" Geiar stopped and planted her hands firmly against her hips. "I was laughing at you!"

"Oh. . .Well that's not what I want." Logan followed her as she circled the fountain again. He stayed beside her and every now and then her hand lightly touched his shoulder as she struggled to keep her balance. "So then. . ." He was careful to keep his voice steady. "What do you suggest?"

Surprised by the question, Geiar stopped suddenly nearly toppling to the ground. Logan caught her and helped her from the rim. "Why are you asking me?"

"I'm just curious," he said. "I mean, what would it take to turn your head for instance?"

"Me?" Geiar felt her face heat as he led her out of the park. "Why would you want to know about me, I'm not even your type."

"Well I'm sure your security guard friend wishes he knew." Logan saw her bring her arms around her again, but this time he knew it wasn't because she was cold. "You turned him down," he said. She nodded but otherwise stayed quiet. Logan thought about backing away from the subject but decided not to. "What didn't you like about him?"

"Are you in cahoots with Sabe?" Geiar asked, pulling Logan to a halt. "I already have to deal with her trying to give me a social life I'll never forgive you if. . . " One small finger poked sharply into his sternum as she talked.

"Not that at all, Geiar." Logan reached for her hand and clasped it within his. "I just want to know what it would take." He was looking at her with an intensity Geiar hadn't seen before and she found herself unable to escape it. Logan cleared his throat and smiled. They started walking again and in the distance her apartment came into view.

"What do you like, money?"

"I can get my own," she answered.

"True enough. How about looks."

"A nice bonus, but it's not the most important thing." Geiar couldn't believe that she was answering these questions. And what was even more strange is that they were coming from Logan. He seemed quite intent on finding out and it made Geiar wonder if it was more than idle curiosity driving him. But she pushed the thought from her mind. You're still stuck on yesterday, she told herself as he asked another question.

"I really don't know. It's not like I have a list or anything!" She glared at him. "Do you?"

"There's gotta be something." He wasn't going to give up now. "Maybe it's some small thing that just gets you. . .I don't know. . ."

"You mean like your leg thing?"

"Yes." Logan was beginning to regret admitting to that. "Something like that." They were quickly approaching her apartment and he knew he was running out of time. But he didn't want to rush her. Normally, any kind of talk like this was enough to get Geiar running in the opposite direction.

"I know what it is," he said, as if the answer had just struck him like a revelation. Geiar stopped and looked at him, curious, like she was waiting to find out herself. "It's trust." He smiled at her, knowing he'd gotten the answer right whether or not she acknowledged it. Geiar didn't say anything. Instead she simply smiled then looked away again. "Trust has always been a big thing with you," Logan continued. "You have to be able to trust someone before you'll ever find them attractive, don't you?"

"Well, doesn't everybody?" Geiar was getting flustered. She fished her door key from her pocket as they approached the building. With a quick turn of the knob they were inside, passed by the elevators and began climbing the narrow spiral staircase in the corner.

"Not like this." Logan was forced to walk behind her as they ascended through the building, but he kept up easily as she quickened her steps with his answer. "You don't trust people you don't know," he said almost accusingly. "But you can't get to know people if you don't trust them. . .At least a little bit. You won't even do that much."

"You're full of shit." She stormed through the door to the third floor and made her way to her apartment. Her reaction told him he was dead on.

"So you keep yourself locked away in this ivory tower of yours because no one can ever break through that unless. . . "

"Unless what," she demanded. Geiar stopped at her front door and glared at him, suddenly impatient with his little game.

"Unless he's already a friend." Logan watched as she fumbled with her key then stabbed it into the lock and pushed her door open. She didn't bother to turn on any lights.

"That is such bullshit," she said, stalking away from him. The last thing Geiar wanted right now was to see at him. Her cheeks were burning and she felt like she couldn't have been more obvious if she was lying naked and spread eagled on his bed. "Just get out of here, will you?"

"Prove me wrong." Logan casually closed the door behind him then ambled toward the windows. He took a seat beside her on a built in bench that ran the length of that wall and waited for her answer. The apartment was dark except for the light filtering in through the windows making Geiar's body a delicate silhouette against a cocktail of moonlight and street lights.

"How am I supposed to do that?" She asked. "Bed a total stranger?" Her voice cut the dark with a meanness that could have only come from someone Logan held dear. He closed his eyes as the remark went through him, knowing he couldn't avoid his past. "Because if that's the answer I'm sure I can find that guy again. . .or at least someone like him. I guess it really wouldn't matter, would it?"

"I didn't do relationships. . . "

"Because of some self centered little girlfriend you used to have way back when you flunked out of college. I know the story you don't have to tell me again." Geiar suddenly stopped her rampage across his ego. "Didn't?" When she looked at him, he was leaning forward, resting his head in his hands. Light shone on the curve of his back but the rest of his body was in darkness. "What do you mean, 'didn't?'"

"Why did you kiss me last night?" His voice floated out of the darkness of the room and Geiar suddenly found herself wishing she hadn't been so cruel. She dropped beside him with a defeated sigh and answered.

"I don't know." They sat for a while in silence, neither one capable of facing the other. Geiar absently fingered the cloth of his shirt, which until now she had forgotten she was wearing. It felt crisp and smooth under her touch, the kind of shirt he wouldn't normally wear. At least, not to wander down to the Brew Ha Ha for some drinks. "Why do you ask?"

He leaned back against the window and looked at her. A brief smile played on his face then disappeared again. "Because I can still feel you," he said. "I close my eyes and it's like you're kissing me all over again." He was still watching her when she turned away, but this time it wasn't in anger or even embarrassment. Instead, there seemed to be a shyness to her response; he imagined she was blushing. Cautiously, he moved closer and Geiar didn't flinch. Instead she sat still as he approached, her breath growing more shallow until she felt like she was barely breathing.

Logan reached for her face and stroked it delicately with his fingertips. "Please, Geiar. . .Please don't be afraid of me," he whispered, tracing the shape of her lips with his thumb. He leaned into her and kissed her lightly on her closed mouth. She didn't respond, but he tried again and this time he felt her lips part slightly. Logan pressed forward and soon he felt her body relax into his arms as she answered his kiss with her own.

The next morning Logan jumped when he heard the incessant buzzing of an unfamiliar alarm clock. Instinctively he sat up and swept the room for intruders until he got his bearings and realized he was still with Geiar. He relaxed and reached to shut the alarm off. She hadn't woken up and Logan envied her for being such a heavy sleeper. Leaning against the headboard, he watched her. Geiar was barely a lump under the blankets with just the crown of her head peeking out. He wondered if she always slept that way or if she was still exhausted from the night before. He smiled at the memory.

The exploration of a woman's body was something Logan always enjoyed, but last night was different. He didn't simply head for the most popular points of interest. Instead he took detours, wandering over the geography of her flesh until he discovered every subtle nuance that was hers alone. Everything from her slight tremble just after their first kiss to the nearly silent whisper of his name just before she climaxed became part of him forever.

He thought about all the times Sabe tried to push him into asking her out and how he refused, saying that becoming lovers would be a downgrade of their relationship. But now as she lay beside him, the memory of their lovemaking filling his mind, he hoped he was wrong. Geiar turned onto her back, pulling the blankets to her waist and revealing her bare chest to him. He couldn't help but run his hand over her body, stopping to cup a breast. Leaning forward, he suckled on a nipple until she woke, her hand burying itself in his hair urging him to continue even as she pulled away.

"Still can't get enough?" She teased, her voice softened by sleep.

"Never enough." Logan lay back down and rested his head on the smooth slope of her body between her shoulder and the rise of her chest. His arm draped around her waist and pulled her closer. Her skin was warm and soft and as she wrapped one slender leg around his hips; he felt himself harden at the prospect of making love again.

"We have to get dressed sometime," she said, without much conviction as he leaned against her. Geiar shifted her body and Logan rolled onto her easily. She drew a deep breath then sighed when he pressed himself into her. "Okay." She was giggling. "Maybe not right now."

End.