Dark Angel, Max/Logan
Categories: Ship, Het, Romance, Fluff, Vignette
Characters: Logan (primary), Max, Alec
Spoilers: Through Freak Nation. Set after season two.
A/N: Written for the Porn Battle, hosted by Oxoniensis. The prompt? Max/Logan, cure.
Disclaimer: Cameron/Eglee Productions left their toys where I could get them. What am I, made of stone?
"We're gonna beat this bitch." Max said it with conviction as she looked out over Terminal City, and Logan believed it, possibly more than she believed it herself, or would let herself believe it, in any case.
Other cures had failed, but this one had what the previous ones lacked: credibility. Everything about this guy checked out, and one way or another, they'd know any minute.
In the meantime, she watched the city, and he watched her. Max had this power about her that had drawn him to her from the beginning. Of course it didn't hurt that she was the most strikingly beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but it was more than that. It was the way she loved her family, and how she disguised her willingness to fight the good fight under a mask of cynicism, at least in the beginning.
"The protein barrier is holding."
Max spun around at the doctor's words.
"I see no evidence that the virus has mutated since yesterday."
Logan stood up, his eyes not leaving Max's. "Does that - "
"It worked," the doctor said. "The virus is no longer contagious."
Max beamed, and for a moment all Logan could think about was how much more beautiful she was when she could smile. It lit up her whole face. That's what they meant by 'radiant smile' - he could practically feel the warmth of it on his skin.
"You can touch now," the doctor said. "No danger whatsoever. Or you can stand there staring at one another, that's safe too."
"Don't mind them, Doc," Alec said. "They're just very excited at the prospect of pasta."
"Alec, out." Max crossed the few feet between them, and ran her fingertips over the back of Logan's hand.
He gasped, and hooked her index finger with his own. A strand of her hair had fallen into her face, and he reached up to fix it, savoring the way her skin shivered as his fingers brushed her cheek. He touched her again, with purpose, holding his hand to her cheek to feel the heat of her skin.
She laid her hand over his, and closed her eyes. Her breath feathered against his wrist, hot and quick, stoking his desire.
"Let's go home."
They tangled their fingers together as they walked, and kept them intertwined as they stood inside the door and just looked at one another. The joy in her deep brown eyes, the flush of her skin, the face he'd loved for so long -- he could look at her all day, but she had other plans, and brought her free hand up to cup the back of his neck.
The kiss drew a groan from him, her mouth wet and demanding on his, then softening to a whisper that left him dizzy.
She grinned at him. "I can't believe we can finally do that."
"Let's do it again." He smiled back and brushed his lips over hers, teasing until her fingers curled against the back of his head and she stepped even closer, pressing him against the wall.
Everything felt hot. Her mouth, her body, her hand on his neck. He ran his fingers down her spine, and then up under her shirt to feel the burning skin of her back.
"Bedroom," she said against his lips.
"Bedroom." He kissed her jaw, her throat, behind her ear. Her tiny whimper sent an electric jolt through him.
Her hands worked at his shirt, tugging impatiently until he stopped and helped her. He almost lost his mind entirely as Max's hands pressed against his chest, and then she took them away to yank off her own shirt.
He pulled her back to him to kiss her like a starving man. He'd been hungry for so long that he'd grown used to it, but now a single taste made him aware of the hunger, and he wondered how he'd survived at all.
She stepped back from him and caught his hand, leading him along as she backed through the apartment. Then they were sinking onto the bed, his hands gliding over her shoulder, her belly, her thigh. She was all hard muscle beneath silk-smooth skin that quivered as he brushed his fingertips over it, and he wanted to touch every inch of her
His hand came to rest on her belly. He loved the play of her muscles beneath his palm, and the sound of his name on her lips as he tasted her throat. Skin forbidden only hours ago now belonged to him, and whoever said that forbidden fruit tasted the sweetest had it terribly wrong. Forbidden meant denial and longing, hunger pains that kept him awake in the night, but freedom meant a different craving, one he could joyfully feed for the rest of their lives.
This transformative work constitutes a fair use of any copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. Dark Angel™©, and related properties are Registered Trademarks of Cameron/Eglee Productions. No copyright infringement intended. No profits made here. © Spiletta42, January 2008.