I don't know how long it's been since I saw your face. I think I've lost track of the days since you vanished from my life. At night when lie staring at the ceiling, I dream it's you asleep next to me and not this warm body that belongs to someone else. Why is it that every time we admit our feelings fate pulls us apart? Pulls you away from me? Sometimes I think that maybe if I wasn't so focused on saving society, I'd be able to save us.
Original Cindy misses you, the whole gang misses you, and I miss you. Yes, I miss you. Hell, maybe even Asha misses you. It's probably because I'm such a grouch to be around with you gone. I'm sorry, Max, sorry because I'm weak. Life is just so tragic and cruel. Imagine this, not even two months after you left all of a sudden, I started to regain the feeling in my legs. Just last week I could bend my knees, and a couple nights ago, I started walking on my own again. For the first time since your gift to me Max, it was a feeling out of this world. I wish you where here. I wish it were you I was sharing these feelings with. If I only knew you were okay, maybe even where you are. Not that I'd come looking for you, not if you didn't want me to.
I'm up now because I just can't sleep. Funny, it was you with that problem, not me. I seem to be suffering from insomnia a lot lately. Like something keeps bugging me, but I don't know what it is. There isn't a day that goes by that I wish I could go back and change that day you disappeared. If I'd been home maybe you'd still be here. You were walking into a trap, and I could have warned you. When I got your message, I looked up Dean Baxter. He turned out to be an agent for the NSA. There's only one explanation for his being in Seattle, and my hunch turned out to be true. I couldn't believe that you'd disappeared, both you and Jenny. I tried looking for Dean Baxter, but I can't trace him. He's definitely no longer in Seattle. I wish I could get a hold of him, ask him a few questions, maybe even give him a piece of my mind. You know Max, I'll still be here. Whenever you decide to come back, I'll be here. I understand why you haven't called or written, and why you had to go, but I can't help wishing you were here.
******
"Have you heard from Max?" Asha asked. In a way, she hoped he hadn't. Maybe it would give him some false hope that she would be back. Things were just starting to work out between them. It would throw a real monkey wrench in the works if Max showed up now. For weeks, Logan had moped around and blamed her. It was her fault indirectly that he had missed Max's call, but it had been his decision to come and help her with an S1W case.
Logan didn't answer. His attention was caught by a new bulletin being broadcasted; he could see it on a television set in a shop window. News coverage showed a man being hustled from the courthouse to a waiting police vehicle.
"The dramatic court case of former NSA agent, Dean Baxter, ended today. Mr. Baxter was sentenced to six years imprisonment for attempted murder against a fellow agent. When pressed for details in relation to the charges, the NSA declined to comment. Mr. Baxter had this to say…" A reporter held a microphone to a worn but unrepentant looking Dean Baxter. "I've always believed in preserving life, and I still do." The reporter went on to say that Mr. Baxter was to do time in the Herold Penitentiary, Dallas, Illinois. "…This is Sara Kenny, reporting live from Washington D.C for the Globe."
"Do you know him?" Asha looked at Logan, a puzzled expression on her face. Logan had never told her the finer details regarding Max's disappearance. Nor did he tell her about the connection to Dean Baxter. Still not getting any response from him, she rubbed his arm lightly. "Logan?"
"Ah, no. Not personally." He tore his eyes away from the television screen and focused his attention on the woman beside him. "Let's get outta here."
That night, Logan tossed in the bed. Tonight wasn't any different; sleep still eluded him. Rolling onto his side, he stared out the window. He had checked the calendar today; it had been exactly six months since Max had disappeared. He still hadn't heard a word from her. Then again, nobody had. Original Cindy had managed to fill him in on what went down the night Max, Jenny, and their friend, Alec, had vanished. She said the last thing they had been discussing was this man, Dean Baxter. Logan received Max's recorded message, but he never got the chance to reach her. He hadn't been able to warn her that she was meeting with the enemy.
"Logan?" Asha turned over and eyed him sleepily. "You're still awake? It's three in the morning." She sat up and pulled the cover until reached her chin. "You're thinking about Max." It was a simple statement; not a question. She knew that she could never replace the void that Max had left. But deep inside, she wished that Logan could return just a little of her feelings. Sometimes she got the impression that their the relationship was entirely one sided. No matter how much he might protest otherwise. Sure, he was a generous lover and a good friend, but she was beginning to believe that wasn't enough.
"I just can't sleep. It's nothing." He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. "Go back to sleep. I'm sorry if I woke you." His voice came out muffled. His back was facing her so he didn't see the tears in her eyes.
"I can't deal with this Logan and neither can you. It was wrong of me to assume that you were ready for a relationship or whatever you want to call us anyway. I'm not Max. I don't even come close." Even as she spoke, she was crawling out of the covers and pulling on a robe. "I'm still in love with you, Logan. Maybe I always will be, but you need to sort out your feelings. I'm not going to ask you to let her go, but I can't be the substitute."
Logan hauled himself out of bed. What an ass he was. Asha was a beautiful woman, a friend, and a great person. Looking back, he realised how badly he was treating her. "I'm sorry, Asha. I really am." He went to give her a hug, and she didn't pull away from his embrace. For the longest time, they stood there holding each other.
"Go figure it out, Logan. Find out whatever it is that's bugging you. You won't get any sleep until you do." With a gentle kiss on his stubble-covered chin, she said her goodbyes. "You can always call me, you know that."
Logan nodded and watched as she picked up an overnight bag and stuffed a few of her clothes in it. Asha had started staying over more frequently in the past couple of weeks, but she hadn't moved in. Maybe she assumed he would ask her to if he wanted. In a way, Logan was glad that it never happened; things would have been a lot messier.
Quietly Asha left the bedroom. They both knew she didn't have to go now, at such an ungodly hour of the morning. But it was as if they both understood each other's need to be alone. As he collapsed back onto the bed, he contemplated whether he had let something great slip away. Closing his eyes, he saw Max's face and knew he'd done the right thing. He was cheating Asha by holding onto her. He couldn't give her the love and respect she deserved. She need someone who was free to give their all. Something that he couldn't do.
******
He sat in front of the thick security glass, waiting for his guy to show up. Maybe this man could answer his questions, fill in the gaps, and put his mind at rest. Maybe then he would be able to sleep at night. He kept telling himself that he just needed to know if she was still alive. That she was somewhere out there, and she was okay. But what if Dean Baxter didn't have the answers? What if Asha was right? Was he really tormenting himself by living in the past and not accepting the future? Max had always been her own person. He had promised never to hold her back. She had disappeared, and she had good reason to, yet he still couldn't let sleeping dogs lie. Every minute of his life, he could feel her presence. It was almost as if he let her live in his mind, then maybe she would return in reality.
His guy sat down on the other side of the wall and lifted the phone. The man before him looked almost completely different to the guy whose profile he'd seen. The Dean Baxter he had seen in a photo was boyishly handsome with a lean build and olive skin. The man sitting in front of him had shoulders and arms that looked like moulded iron. He had a rugged looking face with a day's worth of stubble, and his dark brown hair was tied in a short ponytail at the back of his head. Logan slowly lifted the handset to his ear, all the while staring at the man on the other side of the glass. "I'm Logan Cale. I won't take long. I just have a few questions I want to ask." He waited to see what sort of response Dean would give.
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Who do you work for?"
Logan realised he was being screened. It's no wonder he's cautious. The man was thrown in prison for not following orders, not for attempted murder. At least that was the story that was moving through the underground. "I'm a cyber-journalist by profession, but I'm here on a personal matter. Nothing you tell me will ever leave these walls."
Dean shrugged. "I don't really care what goes on out there anyway. Besides, in here, nothing's private." He pointed to the overhead cameras, guards, and others in the room. "What do you want to know?"
Logan lowered his voice and pressed the mouthpiece close to his lips. "I knew Jenny, and I just want to know if her and her friends are okay."
Dean narrowed his eyes. It had been a long time since anyone had ever mentioned her name; a long time since he'd even said her name out loud. From the moment she told him her name was Tash, he'd never referred to her as Jenny again. "I know as much as anyone else who knew them. Practically zip. It's almost as if they're ghosts, no past, no family, and no commitments."
Logan caught the bitterness in his voice and knew his intuition was right. This man had protected them, and now he was paying the price. "I just want to know if Max is alive. I'm sorry you lost Jenny, but at least she's free, isn't she?"
Dean bowed his head. This man sounded so hopeful. All he need to hear was two words, and he'd go away happy. Truth was, he honestly didn't know. He could only say what he remembered. That night still came in a haze. He'd lost so much blood that by the time he reached the hospital, an infection had set in, and he became delirious. When his fever broke, and he regained consciousness, he had almost no recollection of the events leading up to his hospitalisation. Eventually he began to believe what he was accused of. After all, White wouldn't go against him, not unless it was the truth. Now as he sat through long days in a lonely cell, his memories slowly returned to him. Her face, the stand off, and the goodbyes. Where she was now, this man's guess would be as good as any. "I don't know. The last time I saw any of them was the night I took the bullet meant for Tash. I just feel that she is alive and safe somewhere." He put his fist to his heart. "Just by coming here, I know you feel the same thing."
"Thanks, Dean." Logan nodded at him and reluctantly replaced the handset in its cradle. Getting up, he picked up his jacket and turned to leave. As he exited the visiting area, he noticed a woman standing in the corridor. She had coppery red curly hair that hung loose past her shoulders. Her figure was striking; of slender build clad in a black suit. Her business length skirt did nothing to hide her smooth creamy killer legs. In this place, she stood out like a sore thumb. Knowing he must look like an idiot staring at her, he sent her an uncomfortable smile and kept walking. Something about her was nagging at him, but he just couldn't quite get the connection. Exiting the compound, he reached he car. Unlocking it, he climbed in. As he went to start the ignition, he noticed the white piece of paper stuck underneath his left windscreen wiper. Jumping out of the car, he snatched it up, scanning it his heart threatened to thump right out of his chest.
Logan,
I miss you so much. It wasn't safe for me in Seattle. I had to go. I'm sorry.
When did you start walking again? I would give anything to hear you say my name.
Yours, Max.
Logan had never in his life moved so fast. His legs just ran of their own accord, carrying him back the way he came. Through the main gates, up the long corridor and to the visiting area. "I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to sign if first." A guard stopped him from going any further.
"I…have you seen…a woman…in black?" Logan panted, struggling to get the words out. Even as he spoke, he was scanning the room, but she was nowhere to be seen.
"No, sir."
Logan shook his head. He put his hand up and leaned against the wall. "She was dressed in a black suit, had bright red hair, dark sunglasses. Are you sure you haven't seen her?"
The guard shook his head, "Nope, no one fitting that description. Look, if want, I can take you to security and ask them. They don't miss anything. If she was here, they'll know."
"It's okay, she's probably already left." Logan pushed away from the wall and walked slowly back down the hall.
"Sorry you missed her." The guard called after him.
Yeah, me too. It hadn't been Max, but whoever she was, Logan was sure that she would know where to find Max. He dragged his feet all the way back to his rental. Maybe he should just stop hoping. It was stupid to believe that she'd come back. How long was he going to keep dreaming? A year? Two? Ten? If she just called, it would make sense to have faith but nothing for six months and now this. Logan looked at the note in his hand again then shoved it in his pocket. How did she know I was walking? She could only know that if she's seen me. Then why not let me see her? Looking up, he thought he was dreaming. There in front of him stood Max. Dressed in a light blue t-shirt and black jeans. With her curly hair pinned up in a messy pile, she looked like an angel. His angel. In three quick strides, he gathered her in a death grip and kissed her fiercely. After several moments, he reluctantly pulled back and looked deep into her dark brown eyes, "Tell me this is real."
"I'm here, Logan." Max saw tears pool in his baby blue eyes and knew her own were threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry I left you in the dark, but it was too dangerous to even try and contact you in Seattle. Logan, Ames White knows everything about us. Tash, Alec, and me; we had to change our names and leave everything behind. Tash told me you would come here. She knew you'd talk to Dean so I've been hiding out, waiting for you to show. It's risky, but definitely worth it." She gave him a cheeky smile. "I need to be with you, Logan. I missed you."
Logan hugged her tighter and placed a kiss on her forehead. "We'll find a way, Max. I promise." He opened the car door for her and shut it when she jumped in. Getting in his own side, he started the engine. "I'm guessing that Tash is Jenny's new name?"
"It's always been her name. Jenny is my sister Natasha. She had no memory until recently when something triggered a total recall. I didn't recognise her. I mean I know ten years can do a lot to a persons appearance, but still."
"Why Tash?"
Max laughed, "Have you ever read heard of this cartoon, 'Rocky and Bullwinkle'?" When Logan shook his head, Max continued, "Well the villains are called Boris and Natasha. Tash liked the name. We found the comic in the janitor's closet back at Manticore. I'll have to get you one someday. They're good for a laugh."
"I'll bet." Logan put the car in drive and pulled out of the car park. It wouldn't matter where he had to live or what he had to do, so long as Max was with him.
******
Dean looked at the envelope the guard passed to him. He was sitting in his cell after just returning from speaking with Logan. Talking about Tash had been difficult. Just thinking about her made a lump build in his throat. Curiously, he turned the letter over to see if there was a return address. Nothing. The only writing was his name scrawled across the front in neat script. Tearing the envelope open, he looked inside.
"I'm sorry you're in there alone, Dean. Wear this and think of me. When you get out, you'll know where to find me."
Dean didn't even realize he was crying, but moisture had dampened his face, and the small perfumed paper he was holding. As he read the words on the paper, he could hear her voice speaking to him. Folding the letter and putting it in his pillow, he pulled the silver chain out of the envelope. It was a delicate chain with a crystal angel hanging on it. How the hell she'd gotten that through security he'd like to ask, but that would have to wait. Looking at the angel, it reminded him of Jenny, not Tash. Jenny was sweet and trusting whereas Tash was tough and bitter. But something that was similar between the two was a hidden fire; a fire that he'd been exposed to and craved every waking moment. Clutching the angel in his fist, he said a silent prayer for them both. Closing his eyes, he lay back in his mattress and pictured her. Doing time in here was just a little more bearable knowing that she would be waiting when he got out.
~The End~
Although there may be a sequel; all depends on the reader requests. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and acknowledged.
Big thank you to Blaze555, for the beta. Also, my many thanks to those who reviewed; most of all to Pari106, you comments are invaluable to me.