Disclaimer: Fox, Cameron and Eglee made them. I just like to play with them.
Summary: Max/Logan vignette. It's raining at Logan's place...
Spoilers/Timeframe: No spoilers. Set any time you like.
Rating: G
Comments/Reviews: Please! [email protected]
It was raining when she went over to his place.
It seemed to be always raining at his place. She didn't know if it was the tall buildings in his part of town that did it, but it always seemed to rain more at his place than at her home, her workplace, or even where she hung out with her friends.
Maybe it was the fact that it rained more in the evenings, and these days most of her evenings were spent over at his apartment.
Or maybe it was just him.
That was it. It was just him.
The man was like Grouchy Smurf, she reasoned. He probably had his own little personal thundercloud following him around, to rain only on him.
She entered the apartment silently and took advantage of the fact that he hadn't noticed her presence to spend a few moments observing him. He sat before the windows which were closed against the rain, his eyes blinking, slightly unfocussed, as he stared at something only he could see.
The weather was a reflection of him, she thought. Palindrome...the mathematical term surfaced in her mind, a relic of her childhood training. The glass of the window, and the rain falling outside against the indigo sky, were mirrored by the glass of his spectacles, with the tears behind them, shining unshed in his blue eyes.
He moved his head slightly, and for a moment his glasses were in perfect alignment with the window. She saw his own reflection in the window reflected back in his glasses, overlapping with the reflection of the storm outside the window. Reflection within reflection, mirrored back and forth, back and forth infinitely. A hundred, a thousand men, growing smaller and more distant with each reflection, each with a private little storm raging around him.
She cleared her throat and stepped noisily forward.
He whipped around to face her, blinking furiously, his movement causing all those other men to vanish. He sat, silhouetted occasionally by lightning.
"You should have just picked the lock," he said after a while, eyeing the wet puddle she stood in.
She shrugged. "Didn't want to spoil your door. Why'd you leave a window open when it's raining?"
"I thought it might help to clear the air," he said, looking up to meet her gaze.
A suggestion of a smile played at his lips. She realized she was mirroring his expression, seeing her own reflection in his glasses as she perched on the corner of the sofa.
Reflections, back and forth, a million times, she in his eyes, he in hers.
Outside, the rain continued to fall.
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