I walked out of the elevator and into Logan's place carrying a couple bags of groceries. I could hear him typing away at the keyboard in his office, so I followed the clicking. I saw him there, sitting at one of the computers typing intently. I wondered what he was doing, but I knew if it had to do with me, he'd tell me eventually. I leaned against the doorframe and watched him.
After awhile I asked him, knowing I was going to disturb him, I just couldn't be silent any longer, "Is Eyes Only hard at work, or hardly working?"
I watched him close out the programs on his computer screen before he turned to look at me. "A little of both," he admitted cheerfully.
"Well," I started, "when you're done, you wanna make me dinner?" I held the grocery bags a little higher.
He nodded, "Be there in a minute."
I nodded and turned to head toward the kitchen. I couldn't empty the bag myself even as I had not filled them myself. I couldn't risk hurting Logan, so I just put the bags on the counter and sat on the barstool to wait for Logan. He entered a few seconds later and I couldn't help but blush at him, "Hi."
He smiled back at me brightly, "Hi."
I shook my head, "God, what's come over me?"
"You mean us?" he suggested.
I laughed lightly, "Yeah, us."
"So, you've been as distracted as I have today?" he wondered, although I'm sure he knew the answer.
I nodded anyway, "It's a good thing I'm alone mostly during the day."
He laughed and started pulling the groceries out of the bags, "Me too, I guess. However, I'd much rather spend the day with you."
I smiled at him, "You and me both."
"Smoked salmon sound good?" he asked me, looking over all the groceries I had bought.
"Sounds great!" Although I would have much rather had something else I had my eye on.
"Good," he remarked, "shouldn't take too long."
He could and we ate in no time at all. After dinner was over and we had done the dishes, we found ourselves in the living room once more. He again was sitting on the couch, and I was sitting on the chair, my legs underneath me. I sat there staring at him, wondering what he's thinking, and then he told me.
"You know, I always knew your body would be amazing. All my preconceived notions were surpassed by far," he stunned me. I didn't know what to say and I was thankful that he continued, "You're a work of art."
"I ought to be," I quipped. "I was genetically created to be the perfect being."
"Cute," he mused.
I laughed and then sighed. "I couldn't believe we even did it, let alone believe that it was as good as it was."