After the Fall 1: Manticore 
Author: Mice, just_us_mice@yahoo.com
Category: LGM/DA xover, Byers/Logan 
Rating: NC-17 m/m interaction SLASH WARNING IN EFFECT. If 
it squicks you, don't read it.
Archive: Unusual Suspects, LGM Slash, Basement, Gossamer - 
all others ask first
Summary: Byers goes to Seattle looking for information on 
the Manticore Project, and ends up finding much more than 
he bargained for.
Disclaimers: I don't own anything or anybody. I'm not 
making any money on this, and no copyright infringement is 
intended.
Author's note: Because of the timeline difference between 
DA and XF, this is an alternate universe story for both 
shows, after a catastrophe that didn't involve 
colonization. All you really need to know is that Max, 
Logan, Byers and the Gunmen are as they appear in their 
respective shows, and Seattle is the post-apocalyptic 
martial-law zone we know and love from Dark Angel. Logan is 
in the in-and-out of the wheelchair stage.

SEATTLE
MAY 15, 2003

Byers adjusted his tie nervously as he got off the plane, 
his carry-on bag over his shoulder. He'd given up checking 
luggage years ago, unable to work up any confidence in 
airline baggage handlers. The most recent information he'd 
heard was that Seattle was still more of a mess than DC had 
ever been, making him even more leery of checking anything 
than usual, if such a thing were possible. Getting here had 
been difficult, but between the Gunmen's respective 
talents, they'd managed to procure one pass into the area. 
John was uneasy traveling alone, feeling that it left him 
too vulnerable. Over the years, he'd avoided assassination 
attempts, outwitted would-be kidnappers, and defused any 
number of possible blackmail situations with the help of 
his friends. They were a team, and he knew that they 
functioned best as a unit. Communication with the other 
Gunmen would be difficult while he was out here, and he 
hated it; hated the separation, hated the fear, hated the 
vulnerability of no one to watch his back. 

He reflected on his mission, going over the details in his 
mind for what must have been the twentieth time since he'd 
boarded the plane. It had started less than a month ago, 
when he'd managed to hack his way into a heavily guarded, 
secret site that had turned out to be a database on a 
project called Manticore, compiled by a fellow-traveler and 
guerilla journalist in the Seattle area, known as Eyes 
Only. In the intervening weeks, John and his friends had 
spent every waking hour hunting down all the information 
they could uncover about the mysterious genetic engineering 
project. It apparently involved a covert attempt by the US 
military to develop the perfect soldier. Mulder insisted 
that it involved alien DNA, but John wasn't so sure. He 
knew all too well what human beings were capable of without 
any outside assistance.

The rumors were that a secret government camp had been set 
up years ago outside Gilette, Wyoming, where vat-born 
children had been raised like lab rats, and trained to 
become emotionless killing machines. At some point, 
however, the project had exploded on itself, and a number 
of these young "experiments" had escaped from the Manticore 
base. Several had allegedly been sighted in the Seattle 
area recently, and over the Canadian border into British 
Columbia, but no one seemed to have any hard information -- 
except the mysterious figure known as Eyes Only. Most of 
the others who had looked into the project had vanished, or 
turned up dead. This fact had not made any of the Gunmen 
feel better about their investigation, or John traveling 
alone.

Byers had drawn the short straw for the trip. None of them 
had wanted to travel by themselves. In fact, none of them 
had done so in nearly five years. Since the collapse, they 
were slightly more anonymous than they had been before, but 
life in general had become considerably riskier. In 
addition to the dangers of traveling into a martial law 
zone, there were risks associated with looking either too 
poor or too wealthy. Too much of one or the other could 
easily get you killed for any of a variety of reasons, or 
for none at all. He hoped he had achieved a comfortable 
balance with his usual inexpensive suit and tie, blending 
in as just one more low-end corporate drone of the many. 
Now that he was on the ground, it was time to report in to 
his partners.

"Lone Gunmen, Frohike," the familiar voice barked.

"It's me. I'm on the ground." Byers could hear Frohike 
reporting his arrival to Langly. There was a click on the 
line as Langly joined the call.

"You doin' okay, Byers?" Langly asked.

"About as well as can be expected," John said quietly, 
watching his surroundings as casually as possible. "I wish 
one of you was here with me."

"You know we couldn't get another pass, man," Frohike said. 
"We'd all rather that somebody was out there with you. 
Life's too damn dangerous these days. Sometimes I wish we 
could go back to when all we had to worry about was Mulder 
and his little gray men." 

Langly chuckled. "Right, Frohike. Green acid bleedin' 
mighty morphin' shape shifters with ice picks. Oh yeah, 
gimme more of that."

"I'm headed for the hotel," Byers said, "I'll call you guys 
tonight and give you a progress report."

Frohike snorted. "You be sure to do that, Byers. Be 
careful. I don't want you out of touch for more than eight 
hours at a time."

"Yeah, it's too damn dangerous out there," Langly added.

"He already knows that, you doof," Frohike sniped.

"Just watch your back, Johnny," Langly said.

'At least I know they're concerned,' John thought. "Thanks 
guys. I'll call tonight." 'Not that it makes me feel that 
much better. If I get in trouble, it's not like there's 
anything they can do from DC.' He hung up, shaking his 
head, and headed for the bus zone.

***

Locating Eyes Only's broadcast site was unlikely, but John 
intended to try anyway. He'd already spent the day on the 
streets, keeping his ear to the ground. Kerry, his one 
trustworthy contact in Seattle, was extremely reluctant to 
discuss anything related to Manticore. The mere word made 
her skittish, and she kept watching the sky for roving 
security cameras. "The info's too damn hot," was her 
opinion, "and besides, that's Eyes Only's territory. We're 
talking total jackboot presence whenever anyone breathes 
about that project. You don't want to be asking about it, 
believe me. Next thing you know, you're gonna be locked in 
a cell up in Everett, with some military shrink pumping 
your ass full of mind control drugs. You won't even know 
who you are anymore, John. They'll be scooping your brain 
out with a spoon." 

Discouraged and disconcerted but by no means defeated, he 
had called to report in to Langly and Frohike about an hour 
ago, and was now busy online, trying to repeat his previous 
hacks into Eyes Only's database through the local lines in 
hope of getting a little closer than he could back home.

***

Logan and Max had just finished a quiet dinner when the 
Eyes Only computer net's security alarm went off. "Damn," 
Logan muttered. "Somebody's trying to get in again." They 
hurried into Logan's office area and consulted the 
monitors.

"Local this time," Max observed.

"Third time this month," Logan replied, "but the other two 
were east coast hackers." He shook his head and turned his 
attention to an intensive trace and live countermeasures. 
Five minutes of cat and mouse later, he looked up at his 
friend. "Whoever it is, he's good. I can't pinpoint him, 
but he's definitely somewhere here in town."

"What's this one after?" Max asked suspiciously.

"Manticore, just like the other two," Logan said nervously. 
"I don't like this. He's gotten too close to the database. 
I'm not sure I can keep him out without going offline 
entirely."

"Do you think it might be the same person?" Max asked. 
Logan looked up into her dark eyes.

"It's a distinct possibility. The style seems similar." He 
returned his attention to the keyboard. "One of Lydecker's 
goons?"

Max shook her head. "I doubt it. Sandoval handles most of 
that, and we know he's never gotten anywhere near this 
close. Besides, he's not exactly subtle."

Logan spoke again, excited. "Wait a minute, I think I'm 
getting a fix on him here."

***

Byers shut down his laptop quickly. Someone in the system 
had gotten too close, and while he didn't think he'd been 
compromised, his heart was pounding and he'd broken a 
sweat. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep, but a 
shower might ease his stress enough to rest. Tomorrow, it 
was back to the streets. There had to be some way to meet 
with Eyes Only. Surely the underground journalist had his 
share of contacts, just as John and his partners did. His 
information had to come from somewhere. 'But how do I go 
about getting him to meet me?' John thought, relaxing 
slightly as the hot water beat his shoulders. 'Maybe the 
guys will have some ideas in the morning.' Some time later, 
warmer and a bit calmer, Byers settled himself into the 
uncomfortable hotel bed for the night.

MAY 16, 2003

John hadn't been out of the hotel for more than two hours 
when it happened. His peripheral vision told him it was 
coming, but his reactions simply weren't fast enough. He 
was unconscious before he hit the ground.

***

Logan surveyed the unconscious man bound hand and foot on 
the floor in front of him. Medium tall, slender, with dark 
hair and a neatly clipped graying beard, he was rather 
handsome, but nondescript. Most people would probably 
overlook him in a crowd. 'It's probably how he's survived 
so long,' Logan thought. He reached down from his chair and 
brushed the man's hair back from his face, revealing a 
bruise on his temple. "Do you know who this is, Max?" he 
asked.

"Should I?" she asked him in return. "There's no way this 
guy's military. I doubt he's with any of the intelligence 
agencies. Seems like a nosy civilian to me."

Logan smiled. "He is. Professionally, as a matter of fact." 
He looked up at Max. "His name's John Fitzgerald Byers. 
Publishes a legendary conspiracy zine called 'The Lone 
Gunman' with a couple of his friends. They've been at it 
since '89. I'm not surprised I couldn't get him while he 
was in the system. They're sort of... inspirations to me, 
if you will. These guys will report on anything, no matter 
how strange it looks on the surface. Mind control drugs, 
government sponsored terrorism, psychiatric 
experimentation, illegal whaling, Teletubbies..." Max 
looked at him, puzzled. "Tele... never mind. For years they 
were into following this FBI agent and his investigations 
into Project Purity. They had so much of it right. I hear 
it nearly got them killed a few times." His face turned 
serious. "You didn't hurt him, did you?"

Max shook her head. "Nah. He'll have a couple of bruises, 
but he never had a chance to put up a fight. I don't think 
he could have if he wanted to. I didn't see a need to do 
any permanent damage."

"Let's at least get him up off the floor. I'd rather he be 
comfortable. I'm sure we'll have quite a bit to discuss 
when he comes around." Logan stood carefully, picking up 
his cane, and walked to the nearby desk. He pulled a pen 
light from the drawer.

"I'll do it," Max said, picking up Byers' limp frame and 
depositing him more or less gently into a chair.

Logan opened Byers' eyes one at a time, shining the light 
into them. "Pupil response is fine..." Byers moaned quietly 
and blinked. "Ah, Mr. Byers, so glad you could join us. 
I've been an admirer of your work for quite some time." He 
sat back into his wheelchair again.

Byers did a quick survey of his immediate surroundings. 
Some kind of warehouse space, he thought, and the man 
before him was a well dressed and very good looking dark 
blonde, with light eyes and small oval glasses, sporting a 
considerably more attractive version of Frohike's permanent 
state of semi-shaved whiskers. "Eyes Only, unless I miss my 
guess." Logan nodded. John tried to move and found that his 
hands and feet were bound. "You know, I would have been 
perfectly happy to just buy you lunch," John said. Max 
snorted. Byers gingerly turned toward her, trying to avoid 
making his headache worse. He wasn't sure yet if he was in 
any immediate danger. No weapons were in evidence, but that 
rarely signified anything of importance. "And you are?"

She looked at him suspiciously, then to Logan. Logan 
nodded. "Name's Max," she said. 

"I don't suppose you'd consider untying me?" Byers asked, 
knowing the answer.

"Once we know why you're here, we'll think about it," Max 
said.

"I suspect you already know why I'm here," Byers said.

"I want to hear it from you," Max replied. She was tense, 
John noted.

"Manticore." Logan and Max looked at each other in silent 
agreement. At least he wasn't attempting to lie to them.

"What about it?" Logan asked.

Byers looked both of them in the eye, trying to gauge their 
response. "We're trying to expose the men behind it."

Max laughed, dry and humorless. "They'll kill you. You're 
lucky we got you before they did."

John sighed and nodded. "Don't think people haven't tried 
before. My friends and I are used to it now."

"I wouldn't be so cavalier about it," Logan said, a grim 
expression on his face.

"Believe me, I'm anything but cavalier," John said, his 
voice steadier than he felt. He'd gotten better at covering 
his fear over the years. "It scares the crap out of me."

"Why are you interested in exposing Manticore?" Max asked.

Byers thought carefully before answering. So far, there had 
been no threats, no sign that his life was in danger. Eyes 
Only's reputation was a good one, and John believed firmly 
that they were, in fact, on the same side in the struggle 
against the evils of the system. His two captors obviously 
knew a great deal about the project, and they might be more 
sympathetic if they knew why he and his friends were 
pursuing the information. "We have a... colleague who has a 
certain personal interest."

Max unwound with the grace of a leopard, grabbing Byers' 
shoulder. "What kind of personal interest?" she asked 
tightly.

John tried to back away from her. "Whoa, whoa! I'm not a 
threat here!"

"Easy Max. Let's see what he has to say."

John swallowed, trying to control his sharply rising 
anxiety. It wasn't helping the throbbing in his head, and 
he wished his hands were free so that he could rub his 
temples to try to relieve some of the pain. "Look, I 
don't... I'm not sure how much I can say about this. I 
don't want to endanger my colleague, and I really don't 
want to get myself hurt, either."

Logan nodded. "Understandable. Max, I think we can untie 
him."

Max shook her head. "Not until I know what he's talking 
about."

"He's not a threat. You said so yourself."

She eyed Byers with an expression that suggested a 
cockroach might be a more pleasant subject. "Maybe not 
physically, but whatever he knows could be deadly."

John spoke quietly, trying to keep the quaver out of his 
voice. "Please, I just want to expose the people 
responsible for this atrocity. I want them brought to 
justice, so that the victims of their experimentation can 
try to live normal lives."

"You know one of the Manticores?" Max asked, although it 
didn't sound much like a question.

Byers nodded. She untied him.

***

John was impressed with Logan Cale's penthouse apartment. 
It was the kind of place he might live in himself -- spare, 
elegant, tasteful -- if he hadn't fallen into underground 
journalism and ended up living with Langly and Frohike. If 
he had any money. If he'd had anything like a normal life. 
Pretty much everything the Gunmen made went into their 
investigations and their printing. Even with Jimmy's help, 
the finances were not always in great shape. Nothing in 
this place looked cheap or shoddy, a stark contrast to his 
own life. 'He must have a hell of a lot of money from 
somewhere,' John thought. The Tylenol he'd taken before 
they left the warehouse was starting to help, and his 
headache was slowly fading.

"So," Max said, "who's this colleague of yours?"

"None of us knows her real name," Byers said. "She goes by 
Yves Adele Harlow, an anagram for Lee Harvey Oswald."

Max and Logan passed a look between them. "And she has the 
bar code?" Logan asked.

John nodded. "I saw it once, just a glimpse. She keeps it 
covered."

"Petra," Max said. "She was always fascinated by 
conspiracies. It makes sense. I have some things to check 
out." By the time Byers turned to face her, she was gone.

"She's one of them, isn't she?" he asked.

Logan nodded. "She's trying to find them. They're the only 
family she has."

"Do you mind if I check in with the guys?" John asked. 
"They get very worried if I don't contact them regularly."

"I can understand why," Logan said with a smile. "I don't 
think I'd want to lose track of you either. Use the phone 
in my office if you like. It's secure." He watched 
appreciatively as John walked away. Yes, John Byers was a 
very attractive man. 'Probably has a girlfriend,' Logan 
thought. 'They always do.'

***

"Lone Gunmen, we deliver," Langly said brightly.

"I'm checking in," Byers said.

"Lemme get Mel," Langly said. "You finding anything?"

Byers laughed. "You might say that." Langly shouted for 
Frohike and the diminutive Gunman joined the conversation.

"Hey Byers, wassup?"

"I've made contact." John said.

"That was quick," Langly said.

"You okay, man?" Mel's voice was washed with the sound of 
tense suspicion, and John knew his friend was listening 
carefully for any indication that he might be in trouble 
but unable to reveal the fact directly. Old habits could be 
so comforting sometimes. He was glad that his partners were 
alert to the possible dangers.

"I wasn't sure at first, but yes, I'm fine. I'm safe, and 
in contact with the right people. Of course, were I in 
contact with the wrong people, we wouldn't be having this 
conversation," John observed wryly. Langly snorted.

Frohike grumbled. "Right, Byers. Anything new?"

"Not that I can discuss over the phone. I'll send you a 
report tonight, when I have some time. Right now, I've got 
a lot of work to do. Wish me luck. I could be sitting on 
the big one here."

"You're always sitting on a big one, John," Langly teased.

"Ringo! God, you're rude."

"Size queen," Langly muttered.

"Screw you, Langly," Frohike said. Byers laughed.

"Listen to you, Ringo," John said, "the guy who's always 
trying to sit on the biggest hard drive in existence."

"Whoa, dude, below the belt!" Langly said.

"Well, just remember who started it," John replied. "Size 
queen, my ass."

"Good luck, Johnny," Frohike said. "Be careful out there."

"Yeah, take care of yourself, man. Come home in one piece."

John smiled to himself. "I'll do my best, guys. Thanks. You 
take care too. Don't let Jimmy knock the place over while 
I'm away."

***
SEATTLE
MAY 16, 2003

Logan and John talked for several hours, covering much of 
the history of the Manticore Project, until Byers 
interrupted the conversation. "Logan, if you don't mind, I 
could really use something to eat. Your friend Max... well, 
she ah, picked me up before I had breakfast."

Logan looked up at his guest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to 
be rude. What do you like?"

"Anything, really," John said. "I'm omnivorous." Logan 
smiled.

"I think I can handle that," he said, and led the way 
toward the kitchen. He began rummaging through the 
refrigerator, bringing out a stack of sandwich makings. 
"What would you like on your sandwich?"

John ran his fingers over his beard, then tapped his lips 
gently with one long forefinger. "Surprise me," he said.

"I like that in a guy," Logan said. 'I bet I could surprise 
you in more ways than one,' he thought. "So tell me about 
yourself, John," Logan said as he worked. "I've always 
wanted to know how you guys have been keeping The Lone 
Gunman in print all these years, considering some of the 
stories you've broken."

Byers shook his head. "Some days I have no idea how we've 
even survived, much less managed to keep publishing. We've 
been lucky, I guess."

"Luck is useful, but it won't keep you alive for thirteen 
or fourteen years in this business. There's a lot of skill 
and talent in doing what you do." Logan paused, putting the 
finishing touches on John's sandwich. "Beer? I've got some 
nice local microbrews in the fridge."

"Uh, sure," Byers said. He looked around the shelf and 
chose one he'd never heard of before. "This any good?" he 
asked, showing it to Logan.

"One of the better ones," the younger man replied. Byers 
nodded, opened the beer, and sat down in front of his 
sandwich. "So what's the big secret to longevity as an 
underground journalist?"

John thought for a few minutes as he sipped his beer and 
ate the sandwich. "A woman I loved once told me 'no matter 
how paranoid you are, you're not paranoid enough.' I've 
found it to be extremely useful advice over the years."

"And yet you're out here alone," Logan observed.

John shook his head. "Not by choice." He ate a bite of the 
sandwich, then continued. "Even we couldn't pull off a big 
enough miracle to get two of us out here. Travel's so much 
more difficult since the collapse. Much more expensive, 
more dangerous. Getting the right papers is more than just 
a question of forgery and an insertion into a database." 
Logan nodded. He'd had similar difficulties himself over 
the years. "I don't like it though, traveling alone. The 
guys and I have been watching out for each other for so 
many years that I'm used to having extra eyes and ears with 
me. It's... unnerving, actually, being alone like this."

Logan was silent for a moment as he finished making his own 
sandwich, seeing an opportunity to spend more time with the 
man. "If it would help, you can stay here while you're in 
town. It would save you some money, and you'd be 
considerably safer here than in some cheap hotel."

John looked over at Logan, uncertain at first, but then he 
smiled. "It's very kind of you. Are you sure?"

Logan nodded. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it."

Byers sighed, relief lightening his eyes. "Thank you. I 
think I'll do that."

"I can send someone to your hotel for your bags," Logan 
offered.

"It's just one small carry-on," Byers said.

"That much easier," Logan replied. He raised his voice. 
"Bling?" A handsome, substantial black man entered the 
room. Byers looked him up and down carefully. Obviously, 
part of his duties included bodyguard. Byers wished idly 
that he had someone who looked like that guarding his body. 
He'd feel a whole lot safer in the street were that the 
case -- and probably everywhere else as well.

"Yes?"

"Would you arrange to have Mr. Byers' belongings brought 
here from his hotel? He'll be here with us until he leaves 
Seattle."

"Sure, Logan." Bling nodded and looked over at Byers. "May 
I have your keys?" He extended one huge hand. Byers reached 
into his suit pocket and produced the key, placing it in 
the outstretched palm. "Thanks." Bling left the room 
silently.

John watched him go, then finished his sandwich and wiped 
his hands and mouth with his napkin. "Good sandwich."

Logan looked back at John. "Thanks. So how's your head 
doing?" He reached out and touched John's temple where Max 
had hit him. John relaxed slightly and leaned into the warm 
touch.

"Could be better. The Tylenol helped a little, though." He 
sat there, eyes closed, as Logan's fingers smoothed his 
hair. The friendly hand was more than welcome, and it was 
an opportunity to determine Logan's receptivity on other 
levels, as well.

"If it's all right, I could do a little something for 
that," Logan said. John mmhmm'd happily, and Logan wheeled 
in close behind his guest. "Just lean back against me," he 
said, using both hands to slowly and carefully massage 
John's forehead and temples.

"Mmm," John mumbled, leaning into Logan's chest. "That 
helps." He sighed as he carefully let go of the tightness 
in his muscles. "You could do that for hours, if you want 
to," John whispered.

Logan's fingers moved slowly through John's hair, releasing 
the tension the dark haired man had been holding since he'd 
left the safety of his own home. Gently, he worked his way 
down behind John's ears, and then down the edge of his 
beard as it followed his jaw line. Byers mumbled 
comfortably again, shifting his weight slightly and turning 
his head. Logan ran the heels of his palms down the tight 
muscles in the back of John's neck, and down onto his 
shoulders. "Is this helping?" he asked.

"Definitely." John was nearly purring from the relief of 
the other man's touch.

"You might find this a little more comfortable on the 
couch," Logan offered. 

Byers considered it while the man's fingers continued 
turning the knots in his neck and shoulders into butter. 
'This could get much more interesting as the evening 
passes,' he thought. 'I rather like that idea.' "Sure," he 
said quietly, "as long as you don't mind." 

"Not at all," Logan said. The two moved into the living 
room, and Logan motioned John to lie down on his stomach on 
the large, cozy couch. It was much more comfortable than 
any couch Byers had been on in years. There didn't appear 
to be five years worth of crumbs stuck between the 
cushions, either. And it smelled like leather, not unwashed 
laundry. He lost himself in the pleasure of the comfortable 
couch and Logan's warm, strong hands working their way down 
his shoulders and spine. "This might be a little more 
comfortable for you if you, ah, took your shirt off," Logan 
suggested.

"Mmmmm," John mumbled. "In a minute. This feels too good. I 
don't want you to stop."

"Well," Logan said, "with that attitude, you'll never take 
the shirt off, and I won't be able to work on you nearly as 
well as I'm capable of. And besides, without the shirt, I 
can use some massage oil on you."

Byers sighed. "You're a very persuasive man, Logan. Very 
logical. But it still means I have to move." Logan chuckled 
and leaned back, allowing Byers to sit so that he could get 
to the buttons on his shirt.

"Would you like my help with that, or should I go find the 
massage oil?" 

John smiled shyly. "How does both sound?" Logan's eyes met 
John's, blue locked on blue as his hands moved to loosen 
the buttons on John's shirt. He took advantage of the 
movement to run his palms up John's chest, and Byers 
breathed deeply, leaning into the back of the couch as 
Logan caressed him. "So nice," John whispered, letting his 
breath out in a long sigh. He closed his eyes to 
concentrate on the pleasure of the physical sensations. 

It had been a long time since anyone had touched him in 
more than a perfunctory, casual way. Neither Langly nor 
Frohike were interested in him, and while Jimmy might have 
been willing to do anything he asked, John couldn't really 
see himself in that kind of a relationship. There hadn't 
been a woman in his life since Susanne, and the dangers of 
casual encounters with strangers left him too uneasy to 
open himself to them. Logan though, Logan was a fellow-
traveler, a comrade in arms. He was someone who understood 
the risks, who could be cautious and discreet, and, by the 
evidence of the hands moving over his chest, a man who 
could be very gentle. What John needed more than anything 
else right then was gentle. Max had left more than a few 
bruises, though fortunately none would last long. It was 
simply that John ached everywhere.

Logan watched as John melted under his touch. The man had 
obviously been craving this for a long time. "Do you have 
anyone at home?" Logan asked gently, carefully loosening 
John's tie and removing it. Byers shook his head slowly, as 
if even the slightest movement would disturb his peace.

"No," he replied softly. "Not in a very long time." Logan 
moved to join John on the couch, sliding closer to him. 
"Please don't stop," John said. Logan studied Byers as he 
slowly unbuttoned the man's shirt, pausing between each 
button to run his hands over John's chest and shoulders. If 
he was nearly 40, the years had been kind to him, the only 
real sign of age the slight graying in his beard and a few 
wrinkles around the eyes. John didn't look anywhere near 
40; he did, however, look very tired.

"You're a few hours out of your time zone, John. Do you 
want to catch some sleep?"

Byers opened his eyes and looked at Logan. "No," he said 
quietly. "I'd really like it if you'd keep doing what 
you're doing. It feels good. Please." Logan turned his 
attention back to his slow process of caress, unbutton, 
caress, and John sighed, content. Eventually, the last 
button was loosened, the tail of John's shirt pulled from 
his pants, and Logan's hands were moving slowly over John's 
abdomen.

Logan reached under John's shirt and up his back, pulling 
his hands down in a long, slow stroke along the spine from 
shoulders to hips that drew a quiet moan from his guest. 
"What do you say I find that massage oil?" he asked. Byers 
nodded, then leaned forward a little and pulled his shirt 
the rest of the way off. Too tempted, Logan leaned in and 
kissed John softly behind the ear, caressing the tender 
skin with lips, then tongue. 

Byers drew a sharp breath, then lifted his hand and ran it 
slowly through Logan's short hair. "Hurry back," he 
whispered. John's breath in Logan's ear triggered a 
delighted shudder.

"Believe me, I will." Logan ran one hand down John's chest, 
not stopping at the waist. He let his fingers slowly caress 
John's hip and leg as he moved away. Byers watched as Logan 
left the room.

'God,' he thought, 'this is perfect. I need this so much.' 
He rubbed his face with both hands, passing them through 
his hair as he sighed. 'I can't believe I'm sitting here 
half naked on this man's couch. Hell, I can't believe I'm 
doing this at all. Logan's gorgeous. He's young, and he may 
spend a lot of time in that wheelchair, but he's got strong 
arms and a sharp mind. What on earth could he want with me? 
I've got to be nearly ten years older than he is.' Logan 
reappeared, bearing a large towel and a bottle of massage 
oil. Byers decided that it didn't really matter what he 
thought, it was what Logan did that mattered in the end 
result. If Logan was enjoying giving him a massage, he was 
certainly not going to object.

"Here," Logan said, laying out the towel on the couch. "Go 
ahead and lie on this. I'll take care of everything else." 
He smiled at John, and Byers shifted. 

"Do you want to do my back first, or my chest?" John asked.

"Whatever you'd prefer," Logan replied. John lay down on 
his stomach. He had hopes for later, imagining the two of 
them together, lying next to each other in the night, limbs 
intertwined. Logan began to work the massage oil into 
John's back and shoulders, carefully giving attention to 
all John's various knots and sore spots. There were 
certainly a lot of them. After a few minutes, Logan removed 
his own shirt, to avoid oil stains on the cloth. Leaning 
down over John's body, he used hands, arms and his own 
chest to caress the man beneath him. As Byers moaned 
quietly with the pleasure of the intense physical contact, 
Logan began nibbling at the base of John's neck.

"Oh, God, that's so good," Byers whispered, his eyes 
closed, every nerve on fire. Curiosity overcame him in the 
midst of his pleasure, though. "But why, Logan? Why are you 
doing this for me?"

Logan rolled onto his side next to John. He urged the other 
man to roll and face him, and Byers moved slowly to comply. 
Cradling John's face in one hand, he kissed him gently, 
lips exploring lips, tips of tongues touching ever so 
softly. Unable to resist any longer, Byers wrapped Logan in 
his arms and pulled the man tightly to him, responding 
eagerly to the kiss. Their bodies pressed together in 
unfamiliar but welcome and very comforting warmth. As they 
moved to catch their breath, Logan looked into John's eyes. 
"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes," John said, tracing Logan's cheekbone with his thumb.

Logan closed his eyes. "I..." He took a deep breath. "This 
is going to sound so stupid..." Byers continued the slow 
motion of his thumb across Logan's lips and down his chin, 
then joined it with his other fingers as he moved his hand 
in a feather-light touch down the man's neck. Logan groaned 
as John's fingers brushed his throat. "You have such gentle 
hands," Logan whispered.

"Whatever it is, it's fine. Just talk to me."

Logan nodded and started again. "You... you and your 
friends have been an inspiration to me for years. I've 
admired your work for a long time. You've always seemed 
like... a man of integrity, someone who genuinely cared 
about people when you wrote. I followed your work, watched 
the conspiracies you watched." He paused, slightly 
embarrassed, but John leaned into him and licked the rim of 
his ear with the tip of his tongue. "God, you're great," 
Logan said, with a quiet laugh. "When I first saw a photo 
of you, about five years ago, I thought you were a handsome 
man, and though I never expected I'd meet you, I always 
wondered what might happen if I did, and then, here you are 
trying to crack my system, and you end up here on my 
couch... I..." Logan paused, looking at John. "God that 
sounds weird. I just... here you are, and you're so 
beautiful and warm and... I'm so embarrassed." He laughed 
nervously. "I feel like a kid on my first date. If... if 
you don't want me to do this... if you think it's too weird 
or kinky or something..."

John colored in a blush over most of his exposed skin, and 
tried to divert attention from his own embarrassment by 
pulling Logan back in to kiss him again. The idea that 
someone admired him for what he did, for who he was, seemed 
alien -- his work had only ever put him in harm's way 
before -- but at the same time he found it oddly 
comforting. Jimmy's admiration was puppyish, obvious and 
rather sweet but often annoying, while Logan's expression 
of his own form of admiration was couched in a much more 
complex syntax of understanding and desire that touched him 
deeply. 

"Don't stop, Logan. I want this so much. I need this. I 
need to feel that... that someone cares about me, that 
someone wants me." He kissed Logan's shoulder, running his 
lips and tongue along the thin, sensitive skin of his 
clavicle, ending with a slow, very sensual nip and suck at 
the hollow of his throat, and Logan gasped. "My friends, 
they care about me. They actually do love me, in their own 
ways. But I don't have anyone that will touch me like this, 
no one to hold at night. Everyone needs that, Logan, but 
it's too hard to trust people anymore. You... you know what 
it's like to live like I do, to have to look over your 
shoulder all the time. You live the same kind of life I do. 
It's so rare to find anyone who genuinely understands. Even 
more so to find someone who knows and..." John paused 
before his voice betrayed the depth of his emotion, "and 
still wants to be with me. Don't be afraid of this, Logan. 
Let it happen. I want you." 

Logan took John in his arms and rolled until the other man 
was on top of him on the couch. They kissed and caressed 
each other, licking and nibbling along each other's ribs, 
sucking shoulders, elbows, nipples, fingers. Logan opened 
his legs and John slipped his hips between them, moving 
carefully and slowly, both still half-dressed, neither 
caring, only reveling in the glorious sensation of their 
gentle, slow movement, the warmth and softness of skin, and 
the heat of each other's breath. Byers slowed his already 
gentle pace as dusk approached. He had no idea how long 
they'd been engaged in this sensual dance, but his body was 
beginning to realize it was tired. Even the pleasure of 
Logan's hands and mouth, the warmth of his arms, was unable 
to keep him moving more than a little. "God, Logan, I'm so 
sorry. I'm so exhausted..."

"I know," Logan said with a smile. "You have been for quite 
a while. I knew that eventually you'd need some rest, but I 
didn't want to stop you while you still felt up to this." 
Logan sat up, and John leaned on an elbow, one hand on 
Logan's thigh. "Why don't you go to bed, John. I'll join 
you a little later tonight." Byers looked up at the clock 
on the wall. It read shortly after 8:30 pm, but he knew 
that his own body's clock was insisting that it was past 
11:30, and that he needed sleep after his tense, restless 
night in the hotel's uncomfortable bed. At least here, he 
would be able to rest comfortably, and, apparently, with a 
partner for the night. He couldn't think of anything he'd 
rather have.

"I think I'll do that," John said, nodding as he sat.

"Let me show you to my room," Logan said, and stood, 
offering John his hand. Byers stood and took the offered 
hand.

"Can I ask you a question?" John asked.

Logan looked back at the man he was leading across the 
floor. "Of course."

Byers motioned to the wheelchair, abandoned in the living 
room. "You use the chair, and yet you're also up and 
walking, sometimes with that cane, sometimes without it. 
What... what's causing that?" Logan led Byers into his 
bedroom, and together they turned back the covers. John 
started to remove his pants, and Logan took his hands, 
stopping him, then unbuckled his belt and unfastened John's 
pants himself, his arms wrapped around the man from behind. 
John sighed and leaned into him as Logan's hands gently 
explored his newly naked body. He toed his shoes off and 
sat down on the bed, removing his socks.

Logan ran a slow, gentle hand along the inside of John's 
thigh, then looked at him. "I was... I got shot a while 
ago. It did some very severe damage to my spinal column. 
For a while I was entirely paralyzed from the waist down. 
Max... at one point, I was very ill, and she gave me a 
transfusion of some of her blood. After that, I slowly 
began to recover, but the effect has been erratic and 
unpredictable. Sometimes the paralysis returns. Sometimes 
I'm able to move around normally. Other times I need the 
cane to lean on. I don't know how long it will last, or if 
I'll be back in the chair permanently again sometime soon, 
but I'm determined to make the most of it while I'm still 
able to walk, in whatever capacity."

"Do you..." John stopped, not sure whether to continue.

"It's all right. You can ask anything you like." Logan 
caressed John's cheek and kissed him softly.

"When it's like this, can you... can you feel anything?" 
John ran a hand along Logan's hip. "Can you feel me touch 
you?"

Logan laughed. "Oh yes. Believe me, right now I can feel 
everything. Even in the worst of the paralysis, the 
numbness affects mostly my legs. I can feel everything you 
can, John. I feel the same pleasure that you do, the same 
intensity. I'm quite capable of having an erection and an 
orgasm, I assure you." Byers blushed.

"I'm sorry, I just never... I never..."

"It's all right. I worried about that a lot when I was in 
the hospital." Logan brushed John's bangs back from his 
forehead, where they'd fallen during their earlier play. 
"Most people have no idea, and the chair scares a lot of 
people away. They think that I wouldn't, or couldn't, feel 
anything and so they pretend that if they don't say 
anything, I won't notice what they believe I've lost. I 
appreciate that you care enough to ask me about it." Logan 
leaned over and kissed John. "Now get some sleep. I'm 
hoping that you'll be rested enough for a little... 
diversion by the time I'm ready for bed."

Byers grinned up at Logan, then took him by the hips and 
poked his tongue in Logan's navel. They both laughed, and 
snuggled for a few minutes, then John lay down to rest.

***

SEATTLE
MAY 16, 2003

"I'm back, Logan," Bling called, not wanting to walk in on 
a... sensitive situation.

"Come on in," Logan replied quietly.

"Where should I put Mr. Byers' bag, the guest room or 
yours?" He saw the discarded towel, the suit jacket, 
shirts, and tie on the couch, and made his own guess. 
'Gonna have to pick up the room tonight before I crash,' he 
thought.

Logan smiled softly. "Mine, please. He's asleep, though. 
Don't disturb him."

Bling returned the smile. "Wouldn't dream of it." He moved 
silently through the apartment and quietly set the carry-on 
bag on a chair next to Logan's bed on the side where Byers 
was sleeping. For a moment, he stood and listened to Byers' 
quiet breathing, observing the slender man carefully. He 
looked innocent and peaceful, lying there asleep, arm 
curled around a pillow, his hair in disarray. 'At least 
Logan has good taste,' he thought. 'One less problem to 
deal with.' He returned to the office, where Logan sat, 
working on a file.

"So what do you think?" Logan asked.

"From what I heard while you two were talking, he seems 
like a decent guy." Bling looked over Logan's shoulder as 
he typed. "Smart, articulate, seems like he cares a lot 
about stuff. Nice looking guy. He'd probably be pretty good 
for you." He laid one heavy hand on Logan's shoulder. "I 
don't want to see you getting hurt though, man. He tries 
anything to hurt you..."

Logan chuckled and looked up. "I don't think that'll be 
necessary. I assure you, any shouts you might hear tonight 
will be strictly from pleasure." The two men laughed as 
Bling leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms. 

Max entered through the office window. "Did I miss anything 
interesting?"

Logan looked at her. "Depends on how you define 
'interesting'."

Max raised an eyebrow. "I thought you seemed awfully 
interested in him."

"Well, you have to admit, he's very easy on the eyes." 
Logan turned back to the computer screen. Max shook her 
head.

" I've been out on the streets risking my butt, and you've 
been playing slap and tickle with a guy who's been hacking 
into your system?" She looked down at him disapprovingly.

Logan looked back up at her. "You know he's no threat, Max; 
not to me -- or to you." He reached up and took her hand, 
kissing the back of it gently. "He'll be here with me until 
he leaves Seattle, but I doubt I'll be able to see him very 
often after that. You know how hard it is to travel," he 
said wistfully.

"But you want to, don't you," Max said.

Logan sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"What about him?" Bling asked.

Logan stared back at the screen for a moment before 
answering quietly. "I think... I hope he will too."

"You never know," Bling said, rising to leave the room. 
"Ask him."

"I'll do that," Logan whispered. He turned his attention 
back to Max. "So tell me about your evening."

Max settled in to lean against the desk next to Logan, and 
traced a hand carefully along his shoulder. "He can't 
expose Lydecker and the Manticore Project."

"Why not?" Logan asked, surprised.

"We've decided that while it's a great idea in theory, in 
practice it'll just call more attention to us. Everyone 
will know we exist, and it won't just be Lydecker and the 
foreign governments chasing us anymore. Who knows how many 
corporate bastards will be wanting to turn us into lab rats 
and reproduce us as a profit-making venture; corp security, 
private armies, lobotomized slave labor. And if you think 
the civilian populace is going to silently accept that a 
bunch of mutants like us are out there -- stronger, 
smarter, and faster than they are -- you're kidding 
yourself. Might as well paint targets on our backs to match 
the bar codes. Your squeeze is an idealist, Logan. I think 
his heart's in the right place, but I doubt that he 
understands the real consequences of revealing the details 
of Manticore to the public." She looked down at the floor. 
"It wouldn't protect us, or bring Lydecker and his cronies 
to justice. It would just bring us more trouble. We can't 
have that happen. But we need to find Petra, even if it's 
just to talk to her, see how she's been doing."

Logan let out a deep breath, only then realizing that he'd 
been holding it uneasily. "He's going to be disappointed."

"Better disappointed than dead," Max said pointedly. "You 
don't honestly think the military would let him or his 
friends live long enough to enjoy their success. Lydecker'd 
have your boy's ass in a body bag before he got to SeaTac. 
I'm surprised he hasn't had the goon squad looking for him 
already. Byers was careful about his inquiries, but when 
you start talking about the project, nothing's really 
careful enough."

"You know, he said something to that effect earlier." Logan 
looked toward his bedroom, thinking about the man asleep in 
his bed. "I think that John's philosophy for years has been 
that publicity and revelation are their own form of safety. 
You can't blackmail a person with something that everyone 
already knows. Sometimes, though, it doesn't work." He 
looked back at Max. "I don't want to see John get hurt, and 
you know there's no way I want to put you at any further 
risk. We're going to have to talk to him in the morning."

Max smiled wryly. "You know I gotta work. Normal gets all 
bent when I get in late."

"The guy's just plain bent to begin with. So come by on 
your lunch break instead," he offered. "I'll make something 
for all of us."

Max thought about it, a broad grin on her face. "Original 
Cindy may have something to say about me breaking our 
date." She laughed.

"You're always breaking your lunch dates with her," Logan 
observed.

Max snorted. "Sorta the point, don't you think? Yeah, we do 
need to talk to him, but I think you can handle him all by 
yourself. You're a big boy, and he's pretty. Just page me 
if you need me."

Logan laughed. "You just want to watch."

"Maybe I do." She smiled and winked at him. "Dinner?"

"Delightful," Logan replied.

***

Logan slipped quietly into his bedroom, unwilling to 
startle the man occupying his bed. The clothes from the 
living room, and the pants and other clothing John had shed 
before getting into bed were gone. They'd be clean in the 
morning, he knew. He stripped off his pants, and dropped 
the robe he'd been wearing after he'd taken his shirt off 
earlier. The quiet trill of a mobile phone startled him, 
but he located it on top of his dresser and picked it up. 
"Yes?" he said quietly.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a 
moment, then a sharp, nasal voice snapped "Who are you?"

"That depends. Who wants to know?"

The nasal voice was loud and angry. "Who the hell are you, 
and what have you done with Byers?" He heard another voice 
in the background, deeper and rougher. He decided that 
these must be Langly and Frohike, John's partners.

"Where's Byers, punk-ass?" the deeper voice snarled. "If 
he's hurt, you die."

Well, everything he knew about these men suggested that 
they were intensely loyal to one another. He was fairly 
certain that the men would find a way to carry out that 
threat if anyone had actually harmed their partner. "John's 
fine, guys. He's asleep."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the Queen of Egypt," the nasal voice 
said, thick with sarcasm.

"If he's fine, then put him on the phone," the deeper voice 
demanded.

Logan shook his head. He knew there would be no settling 
this without John talking to his friends. "Just a sec. Let 
me wake him up." He set the phone down again and sat down 
on the bed. "John," he said quietly, carefully running a 
hand through the man's hair, "wake up. You have a phone 
call."

Byers groaned, then turned his face into Logan's hand and 
nuzzled at it. "Ca' back later..." he muttered.

"I don't think they're going to hang up until you talk to 
them. They've already threatened to kill me if I've done 
anything to hurt you," Logan said, chuckling.

Byers opened one eye, bleary. "The guys."

"Yeah." Logan picked up the phone.

Byers sighed. "Okay, I'll talk to them." Logan gave him the 
phone and got up to leave. Byers put his free hand on 
Logan's arm. "No, it's okay. Stay here." He shifted his 
attention to the phone. "Can't a guy get any sleep around 
here?" he asked brusquely.

"You really are okay," Langly said, relieved.

Frohike sighed. "You didn't report in, and you didn't send 
the file you promised. We got worried."

Byers moaned and sat up, leaning against Logan's side as 
the man ran a hand along his waist and down over his 
stomach. Logan's other arm slid around him, holding him 
tight. He repressed a shiver at the slow, sensual caress, 
hoping his voice wasn't betraying the rising heat within 
him. "Sorry, I meant to. I had kind of a long day and 
spaced it."

The two men on the phone laughed. "Yeah Byers, sure. Bet 
that long day has gnarly pecs or something," Langly said.

Byers rolled his eyes. "Did I harass you about that woman 
you brought home last month, Langly? The half-deaf bass 
player who kept everyone up all night yelling because she 
couldn't hear herself talk?" Langly yelped an embarrassed 
objection. "Cut me some slack," John continued. He could 
just picture Frohike shaking his head and swatting at 
Langly as he heard them snipe and scuffle on the other end 
of the line. "Are you two done now? Can I go back to 
sleep?" He yawned and his weary voice betrayed a mixture of 
amusement and annoyance.

Logan whispered "I don't want you to go back to sleep just 
yet" in John's ear. Byers smiled at him, instantly eager 
with anticipation.

"I'm hanging up now," Byers said to his friends. "I've just 
had an offer I can't refuse." He clicked the phone off 
before either of his partners could object, and set it over 
on the bedside table. "If that indeed was the kind of offer 
I don't want to refuse," he said, nuzzling Logan's ear.

Logan mmmm'd low in his throat. "It's an offer of anything 
you want, John." He lifted the covers and slid in next to 
the warm, drowsy man in his bed, then laid them down gently 
and proceeded to twine their bodies together. John eagerly 
wrapped himself around the younger man, shivering at the 
feel of their bodies, their legs and thighs sliding 
together, stomach to stomach, chest to chest. He ran his 
hands slowly and tenderly over Logan's body as they kissed 
deeply.

"I want you," John said, his voice deep now, husky with his 
arousal. 

Logan's heart skipped a beat at Byers' admission. 'This is 
really happening,' he thought, 'he really does want this.' 
"Tell me what you want me to do," he whispered, and suckled 
at John's earlobe.

"Anything," John moaned, "everything. Just... just touch 
me." He ran his fingers through Logan's hair, and pulled 
him into a slow, sensual kiss, carefully rolling them both 
to position himself on top of his lover. As John began 
nibbling his way down Logan's neck, Logan ran his hands 
down John's back and over his ass. Byers sucked tenderly at 
Logan's throat as the warm hands caressed him, fingers 
sliding down between his legs to slide gently over his 
balls and separate his thighs so that he could straddle 
Logan's hips. John drew a shuddering breath as the caress 
continued, and Logan pressed his hard cock against John's 
body. "Oh, yes," he whispered. "God, Logan, you feel 
fantastic."

The men touched each other slowly and tenderly, continuing 
to explore each other with hands, lips and tongues. Logan 
nibbled carefully on John's nipples, licking and sucking 
them until he was nearly in tears. John had almost 
forgotten what it felt like to make love with anyone. Their 
hips moved slowly together, their breathing becoming 
rougher as they quietly moaned and whispered to each other, 
asking for more, requesting a touch or a caress in a 
particular place, their mutual desire deepening as they 
explored one another's sensitive spots. John shifted his 
weight as he lay atop Logan, and he reached between them, 
slowly and gently stroking Logan's cock. Logan cried out 
and arched his back, pushing himself into John's hand as it 
moved. "Slow," Logan gasped, "go slow. This is so good, 
John, you're so good. I want you so much."

Byers slowed his pace, then moved his hand so that he could 
hold Logan's cock and his own as he moved. He caressed them 
both carefully, moaning as their bodies strained against 
each other. "I hope you have condoms," John said, leaning 
into Logan and biting the tendon on the side of his neck 
gently. Logan whimpered, but managed to nod and make a 
somewhat affirmative noise.

Through another whimper, Logan managed to say "bedside 
drawer..."Byers moved again, lying fully atop Logan, 
straddling his hips as he reached into the drawer and felt 
around until he found a condom and a tube of lube. He sat 
up, to Logan's protests, and applied the lubricant to both 
of them, then rolled the condom down Logan's hard, flushed 
cock. "Ooooh, yeah," Logan muttered. He took John's cock in 
hand and started to squeeze, moving his hand very slowly up 
and down. 

Byers moaned a deep, throaty "ohhhhhh." He shifted himself 
up until he was near Logan's waist instead of over his 
hips, and Logan slid his fingers slowly over John's balls, 
very gently pulling and twisting them, then began exploring 
his tight ass. "Please, more," John whispered, barely in 
control of his voice. Logan slid a careful finger inside, 
moving gently and slowly, knowing that John hadn't been 
with anyone in a long time. Byers wrapped himself around 
Logan as the man carefully slid first one finger, then two, 
in and out of his body, playing with his balls and 
caressing his cock as he did so. He shuddered with the 
intensity of the sensation, relaxing as best he could to 
receive the stretching and the deeper thrusts of Logan's 
fingers, as his other hand caressed John's ass. 

Logan kissed John as he teased him, and John's response was 
intense and passionate. A timeless forever later, John was 
begging Logan for his cock, sweating, moving his body 
against him in blind desire. "Are you sure you're ready?" 
Logan gasped. "Do you want me inside you?" John's only 
answer was a whimper, and as Logan gently removed his 
fingers, John slid his body down until the head of Logan's 
cock pressed against him hard.

"Oh God Logan, yes..." John pleaded. Logan guided himself 
into John's body, slowly at first, but deep, with a strong, 
confident movement. John wailed as Logan entered him, and 
Logan gasped at the immense pleasure of being inside the 
beautiful man on top of him. The two thrust into and 
against each other, slow and tender as John moaned, biting 
Logan's shoulder as his pleasure unmoored him. Logan's 
thrusts filled him, and John felt waves of long-repressed 
desire rise in him uncontrollably. He made quiet noises 
deep in his throat, rumbling, almost growling as Logan slid 
into him, deeper with each long, slow stroke. "Harder," 
Byers begged, "please..." He pressed himself eagerly into 
Logan's thrusts, moving faster, riding the man under him 
with a fierce, devastating need.

They kissed again as Logan thrust into John, giving him 
what he so desperately wanted, even though they could 
barely breathe. They gasped together as their bodies moved, 
Logan's hands on John's hips, pressing him down into his 
own, pushing himself into John's body as deep as his own 
would allow. John sat carefully, moving fluidly with the 
rhythm of Logan's thrusts, and leaned back so that Logan 
could penetrate him even more deeply as his speed 
increased. Logan took John's now exposed cock in his hand. 
John gasped and panted as Logan held him tightly and began 
to pump his cock fast and hard. He was groaning at the 
increased sensation, and then Logan's other hand began 
pinching and twisting at his nipples as both of them gasped 
and moaned. The sudden rough touch sent an almost electric 
charge through John's body, and with a shout and a shudder, 
he came hard. He cried out again and again as the hard 
thrusting continued, unable to contain his body's ecstatic 
burst.

"John... God, oh God..." Logan thrust wildly as he came, 
his body spasming with the force of his orgasm. John, his 
head spinning, let Logan thrust violently into him until 
the shuddering movements stopped, then leaned forward 
carefully, bracing himself with his arms until he lay body 
to body with Logan. They held each other, still joined and 
trembling hard, unable to speak, panting for breath.

***

MAY 17, 2003

Byers woke with a start, and stiffened for a moment, 
disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings and the... arms 
around him? When he realized where he was, he relaxed, and 
snuggled deeper into Logan's arms, pressing his back 
against the other man's body to soak up his sleeping warmth 
and revel in the feeling of belonging he was experiencing. 
It was an all too rare occurrence in his life. Breathing 
out a contented sigh, he ran a hand slowly and tenderly 
down the other man's thigh, from hip to knee. It felt so 
good to be wanted, to wake in another's embrace. John 
looked up at the clock. It was a little after 5 am in 
Seattle, but his body was telling him he should have been 
up an hour ago. He had really needed the sleep, though, and 
he smiled remembering the intense, delicious pleasure of 
the previous night. 

Rolling carefully, so as not to disturb his lover, he held 
Logan briefly, then kissed him before getting out of bed. 
Logan stirred at the movement and the caress of John's 
hands along his body, his lips on his cheek, but settled 
again immediately. John had to get showered and dressed, 
then check in with his partners in crime so they wouldn't 
worry. He hadn't been thrilled by the late night call from 
them, but did understand their concern. Besides, he had 
been amply rewarded for waking up, and then slept better 
than he had in years. Breakfast was also necessary. He 
hadn't eaten much yesterday, and his stomach was already 
beginning to growl, rather like an unruly badger.

After his morning routine, and his brief conversation with 
Mel and Ringo, John rummaged in the refrigerator. He was 
startled by a quiet voice and nearly banged his head as he 
removed it from the appliance. "You and Logan sleep okay 
last night?" Bling asked.

John blushed. "Uh... um... yeah, thank you. We did." 

Bling nodded. "You just treat him right, " he said.

Byers just looked at the tall black man for a few moments, 
his hand on the refrigerator door. Regaining his composure, 
he closed the fridge and spoke. "I will." Taking the eggs 
to the stove, he set them down in a little bowl. "Believe 
me, I don't make a practice of hurting people, particularly 
not people I get involved with." 

A tiny smile touched Bling's lips, reflected in his deep 
brown eyes. "Didn't think so, but it doesn't hurt to remind 
people."

"He's not just an employer to you, is he?" John asked.

"No, not for a long time," Bling said. "We've been friends 
for years now. Don't like to see my friends get hurt. Don't 
have very many." John nodded.

"I understand that completely," he said, turning his 
attention to the eggs. "Would you like me to make you some 
breakfast?"

"Sure, I'd appreciate it." Bling sat at the table, just 
watching. Byers quietly went about making breakfast, 
stirring together omelets, preparing coffee, and making 
toast. He was slightly uneasy at Bling's silence, but 
gradually relaxed into it. The man's presence was massive, 
but very calm and centered. He had the sense that Bling 
could easily rip his arms out of their sockets if he wanted 
to -- John was a much smaller man -- but that this strength 
was under perfect control, used only when called for, and 
then only for precise purposes.

As John carried two plates to the table, Logan wheeled into 
the room. "Oh, Logan -- if you want, you can have mine. 
I'll just make a new one." 

"Are you sure?" Logan asked. "I'm perfectly capable of 
making my own, you know."

"I know," John said, " but I'd like to do this for you." 
Logan smiled as John set one plate down in front of Bling, 
then the other at another seat. When Byers' hands were 
empty, Logan extended his arms to him. John smiled back, 
and crouched down to accept the embrace with one of his 
own. With a kiss on Logan's cheek, he whispered, "Thank you 
for last night. You were incredible."

"There's more if you want it," Logan replied quietly. "You 
were pretty damn incredible yourself, John." Byers sighed, 
and they kissed softly, the tips of their tongues caressing 
each other. He went back to omelet making and toast.

"I'll be here for another few days," John said, "looking 
for more information about the Project. I'm glad I'll be 
able to spend the time with you."

Logan watched him work. "We're going to have to talk about 
that, John. Max came by last night, and she doesn't want 
you to do the expose." Byers looked over at him from the 
stove, puzzled.

"Why not? I'd think she would be eager to end the 
harassment, all the running, and the fear."

Logan shook his head. "They don't think the expose would 
make any difference. She says they think it may even make 
things worse for them. But she can tell you about it 
herself when she gets here later today. We'll have ample 
time to discuss it then. I'd rather talk about things other 
than business right now." He took his place at the table 
and picked up his fork. "Like how good this smells."

John laughed. "Yeah, I just hope it tastes okay."

"It's fine," Bling said.

"Do you have hot sauce?" John asked. "I like it on my 
eggs."

"Lower right, second shelf in the fridge," Logan said, 
pointing.

"There's one thing I'm curious about," he continued, almost 
done cooking.

Logan sipped his coffee. "Only one?"

"Well, one in particular," John said. "How did you guys 
find me so fast? I was sure you hadn't located me when I 
tried to crack the system yesterday." He slid his omelet 
onto a plate.

Logan chuckled. "I didn't. You covered very well. When I 
found out it was you, I would have been deeply disappointed 
if I'd managed to catch you. You and your friends are 
legends, you know." 

Byers snorted. "We're only legends in Langly's mind, Logan. 
But you still haven't said how you found me." 

"We have a mutual contact," Logan said.

John looked up, shocked. "Kerry?" The thought that she 
would betray him was terrifying, and his heart skipped a 
few beats. While he'd been living close to Mulder's 'trust 
no one' philosophy for many years, Kerry had never once 
steered him or the other guys wrong, and he had genuinely 
begun to trust her. His stomach knotted, and his entire 
body tensed, knuckles white as he gripped his plate, nearly 
spilling his breakfast.

"It's not what you think," Logan said, noting John's wide-
eyed distress. "She's extremely discreet, and I've never 
seen her turn on anyone she's taken into her confidence, 
not even when it would save her a lot of grief. She's a 
very honorable, caring woman. She knows I've been an 
admirer of your work for a long time, and she knew I'd 
never hurt you, or let anyone else do so. It was the best 
thing she could possibly have done, really. If you'd been 
out asking around for a few more hours, Lydecker would most 
likely have gotten to you first. You might be dead by now. 
Kerry was protecting you, John, and keeping her own ass 
covered in the process. She's a professional. Besides, 
we're likely to be the best source of information you could 
find on the subject."

Byers let the thought slip into the hard knots his muscles 
had suddenly developed. He could forgive her, he decided. 
Kerry had, after all, been indirectly responsible for the 
best night he'd had in a very long time. He should probably 
thank her before he left town. Hell, flowers might even be 
appropriate. John sat down with his plate. "Okay. I did 
ask. And you're right, she did do the right thing. Still, 
she could have just had us get in contact, rather than 
letting Max whack me in the head." He touched the fading 
bruise at his temple. "I meant what I said about buying you 
lunch," he said with a rueful smile.

"We did have to identify you," Logan said. "Max had no idea 
who you were, and Kerry didn't mention any names. She just 
described you and said you'd been asking after the Project. 
Said you were one of the good guys." He grinned. "I'll have 
to tell her she was right about that."

Byers blushed. "You... really, Logan, you don't have to do 
that." A buzzer sounded, and Bling rose and left the room. 
John looked over at Logan. "Are you expecting anyone?"

"Not at the moment, but then again, with Max you never 
know." A few moments later, the young woman herself 
appeared. "You're here early," Logan said.

"Had a delivery in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by 
for coffee and donuts. Carbo-loading, you know." Max 
grinned. She looked at John. "You up to date yet?"

He looked up at her. "Logan said you'd fill me in on the 
details, but essentially, yes. I can't say I quite 
understand your reasoning."

Max pulled a chair under her and sat with her legs 
astraddle the back, crossing her arms on the back and 
leaning her chin on them. "Okay. Here's the deal."

***

MAY 20, 2003

Byers and Logan waited at the gate for the flight to 
announce boarding. They held hands, and John was down on 
one knee on the carpet, leaning on the arm of Logan's 
chair, so that they could talk more easily without being 
overheard. "So," Logan asked quietly, "will I see you 
again, John?"

John looked into Logan's eyes and smiled gently. 
"Absolutely. I don't know when, and it probably won't be 
often, but yes, we will most definitely be together again." 
He leaned in and kissed Logan softly. "And remember, if you 
can make your way out to Maryland, you're more than welcome 
to come and stay with me. It's not like anything you're 
used to, but for me, it's home."

Logan ran a hand through John's hair, ruffling it from its 
disciplined place. "I'll do that," he said. "I wish you 
didn't have to leave."

"So do I," John whispered, "so do I. But I can't stay any 
longer. The guys would have my head. We're on a deadline, 
and without the story I came for, we've got to scramble to 
put together another one."

"I'm sorry about the way it turned out," Logan said. 

Byers shook his head. "I'm not. We wanted to do this story 
because we wanted to do the right thing, and because we 
wanted to help Yves. We may not be able to tell the story, 
but I do think we've found a way to help, at the very 
least." The call for boarding sounded, and Byers looked up 
with a resigned sigh. "I have to go now."

Logan nodded. "Come back soon."

"As soon as I can," John said. "Logan..." 

Logan looked up, locking eyes with John. "Yeah?"

"I... " John's voice dropped into a whisper again and he 
lowered his eyes shyly. "I love you." Logan reached out and 
drew John to him, holding him close.

"I love you too, John." They held each other tightly as the 
crowd shuffled along in line around them, slowly filling 
the plane. "Contact me soon."

"As soon as I get home," Byers promised. "I really do have 
to go." Logan slowly, reluctantly released him, watching 
him as he walked away.

***

TAKOMA PARK, MARYLAND
MAY 21, 2003

"So, Byers, why did you want to see me?" Yves looked the 
bearded man up and down. He looked rather happier than 
she'd seen him before.

"I know who you really are, Petra." Her eyes went wide for 
a moment, and she grabbed Byers by his tie and jerked him 
toward her until they were nose to nose.

"Is this supposed to be a threat?" she snarled. His hands 
were on her shoulders as he tried to regain his balance.

"No, no! Nothing of the sort. I just... I found some 
information that I know you'll want." She let him back away 
slightly, but maintained a firm grip on his tie. She'd kill 
him if he threatened her with the ultimate betrayal, 
revealing her true identity.

Yves narrowed her eyes. "Talk fast. I'm not feeling 
particularly patient at the moment."

Byers shuffled in his breast pocket and pulled out a card. 
There was a number on it, nothing else. "Max asked me to 
give you this."

Yves dropped Byers' tie. "Max?" she asked, incredulous. 
Cautiously, she reached for the card. Byers nodded, silent. 
Yves took the card, looked at it for a moment, then, with a 
broad smile, she hugged him tightly and kissed him hard. 
"Thank you, John. Sometimes you manage to surprise even 
me." She laughed with delight.

Before he could say anything else, Yves vanished into the 
night.

~fin~