And Fate Came Knocking

Disclaimer: I just own the fanfiction. The characters all belong to Cameron and Co. This piece is a missing scene from season 1's 411 On the DL. The episode introduced fans to Logan's ex-wife Val, and Max reunited briefly with fellow X5, Zack. However, neither of their encounters went the way each had originally surmised. The fic picks up after Max and Logan's walk in the rain.

Max Guevara's strong and slender frame was soaked clean to the bone, as she followed Logan Cale into his plush post-pulse Seattle apartment, her shoes squeaking quite noisily over the floorboards. Her right hand gently shut the door behind her, her eyes curiously watching him maneuver his way into the generous space, the short and precise strands of his normally brown spiky hair laying in wet tatters atop his head. She carefully wrung out her own long, dark and slightly wavy hair over his sink, allowing the excess water to cascade silently down the drain, the makeup surrounding her eyes just the slightest bit smudged. He'd propositioned her with a walk in the rain only thirty minutes earlier, and much to her surprise, she had gladly taken him up on it with a mere smile, both of them feeling incredibly restless and strangely unable to agree on neither rest nor food. She knew he was feeling rather broken at the moment, and had clearly been in a state of turmoil since his ex-wife Val unexpectedly dropped in on him, intending to shake him of every penny he was worth. Val had been cleverly manipulative, and like the good man he was, Logan had mistakenly bestowed her the kindness she hadn't deserved, all the while oblivious to the other man she had waiting for her on the sidelines. Max had seen, and she'd heard, and finally, she'd simply told him the truth, already well aware that he wouldn't exactly be too fond of hearing it. But sometimes the truth hurt. She knew that now as well as anybody, and she probably had Zack to thank. She'd spent a good portion of her life in search of him and the childhood companionship they'd brought one another at Manticore, and later when he'd helping her and some other X5's escape. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful for his help, it was more so the fact that she'd been leading herself on to expect so much more from him and the person she wanted so hard to believe him to be. Sometimes life sucked, and threw a person just that kind of curveball.

She calmly shrugged out of her jacket, just as he pulled his glasses free from the bridge of his nose, the lenses entirely coated, his blues observing them with a faint bout of amusement. His gorgeous, unshaven profile glanced up at her, his beautiful eyes scanning hers and crinkling slightly, as his lips twitched themselves into a small smile. "I'll go get you a change of clothes."

She simply nodded with objection, entirely grateful for the assistance, the fabric of her v-neck shirt clinging snuggly to the curves about her waist, a soft laugh finally escaping her mouth, gently teasing. "I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I stayed the night, either."

He simply raised a brow, obviously surprised, as he studied her a moment, calmly tilting his head to one side. "You have the worst timing," he quipped, laughing slightly.

"Maybe I do," she agreed, nonchalantly shrugging, as she slipped out of her shoes, setting them down to her right. "But at least I'm going to be upfront about it."

He was already grinning ridiculously from ear to ear. "Well, in that case, you're still more than welcome to crash here."

"Happy to hear it."

"That said," he murmured, "I'm afraid there's a slight catch."

She locked her brown eyes on his, her hands plotting themselves over her hips. "Catch?"

"You're going to have to settle on a beat up old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants," he finished, shooting her a quick wink.

"Yeah, kinda thought so. Still...I feel a little bad hitting you up for the money this jacket's gonna cost, because it's obviously seen better days, don't ya think?"

"Max."

"Joking," she held up a hand. "And you know, while we're on the subject, I could also use a clean pair of socks."

"Well, I think I might just have a pair."

"Hey, Logan?"

He paused for a good full minute, abruptly edging the wheelchair to a slow and easy halt, calmly turning around to face her, the previous playfulness suddenly vanishing completely from his composure. Instead, his body tensed slightly, as he quickly sensed the serious tone revealing itself in her voice.

"Look, I-" She caught herself then, as she hesitantly sat down on his sofa, her pants still dripping wet, her hands nearly shaking from the cold that had crept up on her on such short notice, her body only just starting to feel the full effects of taking nature on in its poorest form. "Maybe everything happens for a reason."

"You don't have t-"

"I was intimidated," she cut him off. "I mean, just a little, you know? Here was this woman that had this history with you, this huge chunk of it, and who was with you for a good part of your life. And here I was, this...transgenic who couldn't for the life of her figure out what you actually saw in her, wondering why and how you could've picked someone so absorbed in herself to spend your days with. It's stupid, yeah. I'll grant you that. And it's- it's damn immature of me to even think that way, and I know we have our little arrangement and all, but...the way I see it?"

He simply sat there in silence, his expression indicating just the faintest bit of shock, as he quietly gestured with a single hand, urging her to continue, his interest obviously peaked to the fullest.

"You said you kept trying to believe in something that was never there in the first place," she repeated, recalling their previous conversation, her lips pursed, her damp hands folded in front of her, her brows fixed in deep concentration. "But I think you were overlooking your belief in something else."

She could see him mulling it over, his demeanor vaguely unreadable, as he wrestled with her words, his frame of vision training itself to the floor. "And how's that?"

"Us," she carefully mused, finally allowing a short half smile to cloud her pretty complexion. "I mean, you said you were gonna help me find Zack, and you did. It didn't go as planned, but you did. And despite that little troublesome fact in not wanting to rehash family ties, I still got to see him because of you. You can't just forget about all the good you've done for me, and for the people in this city. So you couldn't save something that was already broken. So what? In all honesty, who can? Sometimes we have to let them go, and if it's one thing I learned from this, it's that you can't expect the world to turn around and give you a break. It just isn't gonna happen. That said, she got what was coming to her."

"Yeah," he whispered, forcing a smile of his own, slightly professing an even softer laugh.

"We come through for each other, and that's what friendship is. It's knowing you need to...let someone in sometimes, even if you don't want to."

"And as you seem to just invite yourself in here whenever the situation seems to call for it, I'm not so sure that counts."

"Oh yeah?" she returned, her eyes widening, as her lips curved.

"Of course you couldn't have simply said you were jealous, either, because that would mean something else entirely."

"Entirely," she agreed. "And besides, we're not even like that. "

He said nothing, as he wheeled himself into his bedroom, pulling off his own jacket, and yanking his shirt up over his head. There were several items strewn haphazardly on the bed, and a few more crumpled up and tossed into a heap on the ground. He successfully managed to locate a clean black polo shirt and a pair of jeans for himself, while he chose an old and rather baggy white shirt and a pair of loose gray pants for Max. It wasn't anything close to what she wore to work or to the occasional night of ass-kicking with bad guys who very much deserved it, but then again, he'd come to a rather keen realization that she'd make just about anything look good. Strange as it was, he probably couldn't come close to saying that very same thing about more than half the women he'd known and come into contact with during the course of his lifetime.

"I guess Bling's been behind on the housecleaning," she commented casually, nearly causing him to jump, as the smallest bit of sarcasm found its way into her voice, her hand propping itself up against the doorframe, her feet bare and treading a few drops of water below.

He nearly hid behind another grin, holding out the set of clothes, and tossing a pair of crisp white socks into her grasp. "Bling's salary doesn't exactly include picking up after Logan, when Logan is supposed to be picking up after himself," he added honestly.

"Cool," she murmured, observing the attire. Her fingers gingerly brushed his as she reached for them, the briefest sensation coursing through her body, as the feel of their skin collided. She quickly broke away, stepping back and distancing herself somewhat, her gaze well averted, her eyes focusing themselves on the battered white shirt, her hand grazing itself over fondly the material as she forced herself to study it. "And just for the record, Kendra and I basically suck at the whole keeping house thing, too. I mean, it's practically a war zone over there- which is...probably why we never have visitors that often, but I don't really like to think about it."

"I'll go and make sure the guest room's set," he told her, slowly pulling his hand back to rest itself upon the right wheel of his chair, his countenance relaying just the faintest hint of confusion and the most peculiar thought of hope at the same time, as he watched her walk off towards the bathroom, taking long strides down the short hallway. Ever since he'd met her, he'd been literally thanking his lucky stars that she'd saved him from becoming a pile of ash the day he'd been shot down and hospital bound, after bravely trying to defy an Eyes Only mission gone wrong. Of course, he'd later returned the favor by erasing her name from a prison cell, after a misunderstanding had arisen from her solution in obtaining pills to fight her ongoing and apparently incurable seizures. They were more or less a team, he decided, although at times he felt he wanted it to be something more. But as soon as that incomplete fragment even bothered to cross his mind, he would eventually find himself lapsing into work mode or absentmindedly succumbing to one of their infamous banters about who was right and who was wrong. They challenged each other, and it was clearly a vicious cycle.

She emerged no more than five minutes later, donning the outfit, and lightly crossing her arms over her chest, her hair loosely pulled back into a ponytail and still somewhat damp. She saw his gaze wander over her, her faces inches shy of turning crimson. She never felt this awkward around guys, and quite frankly, it just wasn't her thing. But somehow Logan Cale had managed to cross that boundary without her knowledge, making her feel oddly vulnerable at this point. She tried to block the feeling from memory, immediately looking for a way out of that inner battle of confrontation. "So... What's Mr. Eyes Only working on these days?" She smiled. "I mean, besides hiring a genetically revved up chick to do his bidding?"

"Well, moving back the furniture would be a start," he sided, raising an eyebrow, as he directed a thumb behind him.

"Val?" she guessed.

"Val," he concluded.

"You know, when I saw her with that sleazebag, I knew she must have been a real piece of work, and I didn't trust her for a minute. Hard to believe she wasn't always a stone cold bitch at some point in her life."

"And you're telling me this now, because?"

She only shrugged. "Better later than never, right?"

He just grinned.

The End