Feeling Way too good…

Morning came all too soon in the Cale household, and it's occupants found themselves resisting the calling of their biological clocks. The dimly lit room came alive as gentle sunlight wafted in through the nooks and crannies, bathing the room in a warm glow and giving it an air of isolated calm. In that gentle time between full consciousness and deep sleep, our hero and heroine shared gentle kisses as they basked in each other's warmth. Neither felt the need to stop and fully process the source, and neither felt threatened by it.

The first to properly wake, Max gently opened her eyes to look into the face of the man who had given her the feelings of tenderness and security she currently basked in. Blinking twice, she waited for her eyes to focus as the last dregs of sleep drained away; with this new vista she looked back into the face of the man who had unwittingly captured a place in her heart, only to recoil in shock at the sight that greeted her.

She took in the black eyes and the bruised cheek, and lightly traced her fingers over the split lip. As she wondered what he had gotten into when she was incapacitated, she felt his arms around her waist tighten, and looked up to see a sea of cerulean blue staring back at her.

"Hey," he whispered; his voice gruff with sleep.

"Hey," she replied just as softly, not knowing what to make of the emotions coursing through her at the moment.

Gently tucking a stray curl behind her ear, Logan smiled at her. They stared at each other for a moment before the next words they uttered tumbled over each other.

"How are you feeling?"

"What the hell happened to you?"

He laughed softly. He was about to ask his question again when he realised what she had said. His confusion must have shown, because a delicate hand moved to trace the patch of skin around his left eye; he winced at the touch.

"That's a nasty shiner you got there Logan. What have you been up to while I was out for the count?"

Getting up out of bed, he went to study his face in the bathroom mirror and groaned at the sight that greeted him. Turning to return back to Max, he drew in a startled breath as he found her right beside him. I don't think I'll ever get used to her silent steps…

"Don't…. don't worry about it. It's just a minor bruise… should clear up in a few days." He tried to brush it off, but the look on her face showed that she wasn't going to take his vague answers quietly.

"Don't lie to me Logan. I thought we were done with all this macho hiding secrets nonsense." The hurt came across clearly; it seemed she was the only one willing to show the battle scars.

"Seriously Max… don't sweat it." Turning from the mirror, he moved to walk out of the bathroom, only to find her blocking his path. Perhaps a change in topic is what is needed right now… "What would you like to for breakfast?"

She looked at him for a minute and then stalked back into the room looking around for her clothes. Not finding any there, she moved to leave the room. As she reached the door, she turned around and regarded the man who stood looking at her with a guarded expression on her face, "You know what Logan… Fuck You. I'm sick and tired of your shit and all your secrets. I can't do this. If you want us to be any kind of anything, you gotta start talking. How the fuck are we meant to make this work if I'm the only one that's willing to share any kind of information?"

Maybe he was startled by her outburst, maybe it was the fear that if she walked out his door she'd never come back, or maybe it was because at that precise moment he watched her crumble to the floor as her knees buckled in her weakened condition. Whatever the reason, as he tried to lift her into his arms only to have her shrug him off and stand on her own, albeit unsteadily, he heard his own voice, still gruff with sleep, quietly intone, "You did." That certainly stilled her movements.

"…How?" The only readable emotion swirling in her chocolate depths as she turned to face him was confusion… a hint of self loathing lurked in the background.

"You were having a nightmare. I tried to wake you… you weren't too happy," He ended with a rueful chuckle.

Some comprehension dawned as fragments of the night came back to her. She remembered lashing out at someone, she recalled his soothing presence as she emptied her guts, and there were conjured feelings of safety and being in his arms. It almost felt like the described after effects of a night spent out clubbing with OC and Sketchy- so much done… so little remembered.

"I'm… I'm so sorry…" Her voice was pained.

"Max… don't do this to yourself. It's okay. Me big strong man, feel no pain… little lady must not worry… besides, now I have more battle scars to validate my title as warrior supreme, defender of the Broken World." His attempt at humour managed to raise a quirk of a smile from her, and right now that was better than nothing. "Why don't you go take a shower while I make us some breakfast? How do Spanish omelettes sound?"

At that, he got a real smile out of her. "They sound like heaven."

"Do you need a hand to the bathroom; you seem a little unsteady on you feet."

Standing up gingerly, she smiled warmly at him, "Don't worry, I got it… I think the trick is to avoid any sudden movements." With that she slowly made her way to the bathroom. Once he heard the shower go on, Logan turned to the kitchen to breakfast, and to what he hoped was going to be a peaceful day.


Stepping under the hot spray of the shower, Max let the water do it magic on her sore and aching body. My God I'm tired. As she reached for the shampoo she noted her quivering fingers and hissed silently to herself, hoping the seizures wouldn't get worse. Fuck this, if I get my hands on Deck and his Manticore sadists, I guarantee I'll break every bone in their body. Go figure, the moment Logan and I begin to make some headway in our relationship, my body decides to spazz out on me. Ugh. I could swear there's an expiry date attached to this barcode.

Hair cleaned, body washed, dried and lotioned, Max headed into the bedroom in search of underwear and clothes. She knew Logan would knock before he entered even though it was his bedroom, and with the recent highlights in their relationship, she figured maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he got a peek; he did always look so cute when he was embarrassed. Clasping her bra, she bent to pick up the sweatshirt Logan had laid out, only to feel a wave of dizziness overcome her. She only had enough time to mutter a single "Fuck," before she blacked out.


Cut up vegetables lay neatly on the counter beside him, as he stood whisking a bowl of eggs. Sausages were grilling in the oven, bread was waiting to be toasted, and coffee had just finished percolating. Logan Cale was in his element and, excluding the lingering concerns for Max, he was perfectly content in this moment.

Just as he placed the butter on the hot pan to melt, he heard a muted thump in the direction of his bedroom. Max. Switching off the heat, he quickly rinsed his hands and headed towards his room at a brisk pace, wiping his wet hands on his pants. He knocked on the door, and waited for all of 5 seconds before barging in only to find Max half dressed and seizing on the floor.

Oh God… not again.

Lifting her into his arms, Logan placed her gently on the bed before rushing straight for the Tryptophan solution. Something told him that no amount of pills was going to calm this seizure down. Taking in her jaw, clenched against the pain, he doubted his ability to wrench them open and force the pills in.


Stroking her hair as the twitching eased off, Logan realised for the first time that he would do anything in his power to keep this woman safe… regardless of the costs to himself. Seeing her shiver, from the cold not the seizures, he tucked her in under the covers and laid out clothes for her to wear upon waking. A quick stop to the bathroom for a shower and to brush his teeth, Logan returned to the kitchen to tidy up after himself. The whisked eggs went into the fridge for later, as did the vegetables and the rest of the counter was cleared up. All this a futile effort to distract himself from the very ill woman in the room down the hall.

Entering the room once more to sit with Max, he noticed her struggling to get out from underneath the duvet covers. Alerted to his presence, she looked up at him, eyes full of fear. "What's happening to me?"

"I don't know. But I'm hoping Seb will. We have an appointment in the next couple of hours."

She nods her head in acquiescence. She trusted Sebastian, and knew it was definitely time to find out what was going on in her body.

"Will you have breakfast?" Logan said, rising from his perch beside her.

"I really don't think I'm up for omelettes right now Logan."

"Then have some toast."


Nodding, Logan turned to leave the room, only to be stopped by a tiny voice in the middle of his bed.

"Thank you."

Walking back to the bed, Logan took her face between his hands and kissed her fully and soundly on the lips. "You have nothing to thank me for."


U know what to do people…hook a sistah up a review to make her smile. The title was inspired by Nickleback. Haven't personally heard it, but my beta swears it's the bomb and recommends it…

Leave a review… c'mon… I'm getting better at updating… :-)