Chapter Eight Several hours later Logan was sitting on the couch in her livingroom, hugging her knees to her chest, as Simon closed the front door. He had just ushered out the last of the many people who had passed through her appartment that afternoon, and now he turned to look at her. After a phone call to Brandon, investigators already working on the case had shown up at her door. They'd gone over the appartment with a fine toothed comb, asking Logan for a complete recreation of the events, and taken a description of the two men and their car. She'd handled the questioning well, Simon thought, but she looked completely exhausted now. "You need some sleep," he stated, and she turned a doubtful glance in his direction. It was well into the evening now, and the hamburger he'd brought her was a distant memory. She was hungry, and she was tired, but there she had no food in the house, and there was no way she was going to be able to sleep in that bedroom. Although Simon had been allowed to secure the window as soon as the invesigators had finished their examination of it, she still didn't feel safe to sleep there, and another shiver washed over her. As she began to chew nervously on her lower lip he sat down beside her and drew her into his arms. "It's been a long day. A terrible day for you," he said. "You haven't had much to eat, have you?" She smiled to herself, glad he hadn't brought attention to her fear. "I'm starved," she said, nodding. "So, what do you say we get something to eat then?" he asked, smiling down at her and trying to sound cheerful. She sighed. "I haven't got any food in the place, and I'm really too tired to go out, Simon," she said, and as she turned to face him he was met with the most beautiful, expressive eyes he had ever seen. He reached to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, and felt her shiver once again. She looked nothing like she had the night before at the Club. Her hair, that had been thrown back in a pony tail when they'd left Tucson, was now half falling around her face, and she wore no make-up. It was as if he were looking at her for the first time. And she looked beautiful. His eyes dropped to her lips and he reminded himself that he must not kiss them. His hand dropepd from her hair and landed softly on her shoulder. "Pizza?" he asked, quietly, as his thumb began to brush ever so slightly against the side of her neck. His eyes moved, momentarily, to where his thumb was sliding over the side of her throat, and watched as she swallowed silently. "Alright," she said, her voice a soft whisper. He nodded, returning his gaze to her lips, searching them as if he might be able to see the already spoken word there. "Alright," he echoed, and leaned ever so slightly closer to her. Don't kiss her again! He reminded himself, but she didn't move and he felt like he was slipping off the edge of a waterfall in slow motion. His hand slid along her neck and came to rest at the back of her head, and he swore he saw her chin tilt slightly. Her lips were mere inches from his now, and his mind was no longer functioning properly. Don't do it! He thought, just seconds before his lips brushed against hers. Then he was lost, for instead of resisting, or pushing him away, she accepted his kiss and kissed him back. With her hands pressed against his chest, and her lips lifted to meet his, she kissed him, and he could think of nothing but to drown in that kiss forever. He drew her even closer, pressing her body against his own. "Simon," she whispered, when their lips parted for a breath, and he moaned. Her voice had held no hint of complaint, nor questioning tone. It was unmistakably a plea. A plea that bore his name, and he recaptured her lips with a renewed hunger. Don't do it! The words spiraled through his brain as the image of the bed in the other room loomed in his mind. For several seconds he managed to ignore them, until at last he came to his senses and he pulled away from the kiss. He still could not bring himself to let her go, however, and instead he pressed her head against his chest and held her. "Simon?" This time it was a question, and he knew he had to put things right. "I'm sorry, McCoy," he whispered huskily. "You've had a bad day. We're both tired and hungry, and we need to get a hold of ourselves. I have no right to take advantage of you in this time of vulnerability." She didn't move, but he felt her stiffen, and he held her even closer for a second, then let his arms fall, his hands trailing along her arms as he let her go. "Simon, I — " "We need to order that pizza," he said, standing up and looking around the room. "Do you have a place you usually order from?" Logan leaned her head back against the couch and caught her breath. The only thing she could think about was his arms around her, his lips on her, and how much she wanted them back! Get a grip, girl! She told herself. He was right, they were both just reacting to the events of the day. Food would clear her head. She told him where to find the phone number and closed her eyes, trying to shake the visions of the two men in her appartment. Simon looked down at the sleeping woman. She looked so peaceful that he couldn't bring himself to wake her. The pizza delivery boy had been and gone, and when a whisper of her name had gone unanswered Simon had satisfied his own hunger while sitting watching her sleep. At least this time, the woman he was watching over was going to live, he thought to himself, and his brooding frown deepened. The memory was too painful, and one he seldom allowed himself to dwell on, but the day's events had brought it to the forefront of his mind. So many years ago, Simon the child sitting by his mother's bedside as she struggled through the last days of her life. A life that had been his responsability to save but he'd let her down. Despite the bold front he put on for show, he'd been afraid, and his cousin Jules had been the one to step in, to make a stand against what was wrong. But it had been too little, too late. Logan stirred, as he watched her, but only to settle more comfortably on the couch, and he sighed. He should never have left her alone without making sure she was safe. What if he hadn't come back? What would have happened to her if she hadn't managed to get away from the thugs who had invaded the sanctity of her home? He should have known better! How could he have lived with himself if it had happened a second time? It's nothing like the last time, he reasoned with himself. Back then, you knew what was happening, you knew she wasn't save. This time, you had no way of knowing anyone was here. But, I swore I'd never ever leave anyone in harms way again if I could help it, he argued back. That's why I went back for her in the canyon in the first place, and then I just left her to the wolves today? Simon rested his head back against the chair and groaned under his breath. This internal struggle wasn't doing wither of them any good. What he needed was sleep. He looked around the room. The only other place for a body to rest was the bed in her bedroom. She'd shown obvious fear of sleeping in that room tonight, so he imagined waking her and moving her to the bed was pretty much a bad idea. At least she was sleeping where she was, not worrying about intruders. That meant the only thing left to do was for him to sleep in the bed. He heaved a sigh, and got up to check the doors. Everything was locked. Even if he let her out of his sight, she would surely be safe here. He was too tired to keep his eyes open anyway. In the doorway of her bedroom he paused, looking at the empty bed. The last time he'd been anywhere near a bed with Logan McCoy around, he'd woken up beside her in it. Somewhere deep inside him he had the urge to lay beside her again, to hold her in his arms, and keep her safe from the world. Is that all? The voice inside his head taunted him, reminding him that not so long ago he had been wanting to bring the woman to this very bed for something completely unrelated to protecting her from the world! He shook that thought aside and walked into the room. That was enough of that kind of thinking! He'd just lay on top of the covers and get some sleep. If anyone broke into the house, he'd here them. In the morning, he'd be able to think more clearly. It was dark, in the wee hours of the night, when he was wakened by movement on the bed. He couldn't see anything whwn he opened his eyes, but he heard breathing, then the soft whisper of his name. "Simon?" "I'm here," he said softly, and he heard a realease of breath, and felt her move in beside him on the bed. He moved his arm and let her in, to rest her head on his chest and drape her arm across him, then slowly he closed his arm around her and stared up into the blackness of the night. "I'm here, McCoy," he repeated, reasuringly. "I thought you'd gone," she said, and he felt her shudder and then snuggle even closer to him. "No, I'd never do that," he said. "I'm here, go back to sleep." "Mmmm," she purred softly, and adjusted her head on his chest, then she was silent, and he decided she had gone back to sleep. Not, of course, that he was going to be able to do the same. Not with this woman pressed so intimately against him. Instead, he lay there and tried to think over the days they had spent in the canyon. The woman was beautiful, not just in the dress Dolores had bought her, but in shorts and T-shirt and hiking boots as well. Why had he not seen it before? He was certainly seeing it now, he told himself, as he lay perfectly still listening to her breathing. He was seeing it so well that it was making him uncomfortable! When he woke again in the morning, she was gone. He sat up in a panic and immediately looked towards the window that had been pried open the day before, but it was secure. It was then that he heard the sound of water running, and he rested his head back on teh pillow and drapped his arm over his forehead. He needn't have worried, she was just taking a shower. He lay there til he heard the water turn off, then he sat up quickly. Under no circumstances should he allow himself to be still in her bedroom when she came back into the room. Immediately he headed for the kitchen, where he decided he would take stock of anything that might possibly be useful. He had managed to find a jar of instant coffee and was waiting for the water to boil when she finally walked into the kitchen. She had dressed, in a pale yellow suundress, and was barefoot, running a brush through her still wet hair. He blinked twice, and cleared his throat. "Refreshed?" he asked her, because his brain wasn't functioning on all cylindars and he could think of nothing else. "Yes, thank you," she replied, and he noted a hint of a shyness in her smile. Perhaps she was embarrassed about waking up with him this morning, he imagined, and he decided that if she didn't bring it up, he wasn't about to. "I found coffee. You don't have much else." Her smiled widened and he swallowed hard. "I know. I had expected to be away for several weeks, remember," she said, and he merely nodded. After an uncomfortable pause he realized the kettle was boiling, and quickly poured out two mugs for their coffee. She looked much more than refreshed, he decided, as he stirred the coffee granules into his mug. She looked down right delicious! If he was going to keep his wits about him, he would have to stay far away from her, which could end up being difficult, since Brandon and Hector had decided she shouldn’t be left alone until there was reasonable assurance that the men who had broken into her appartment wouldn’t be coming back. Of course, he had been nominated for the job of guarding her. Not that he had anything else to do. He was in limbo, since the Project had been shelved, and no one was waiting for him anywhere at the moment. Other than spending time alone at his cabin in the Yukon wilderness, there was nothing pressing on his schedule. He glanced at Logan across the top of his coffee cup. It wasn’t that he disliked being in her company. No, it was more that he didn’t trust himself around her right now. And to make matters worse, her place only had one bedroom, and he had already woken up beside this woman twice. He couldn’t predict what would happen if he had to do it again. Or more correctly, he probably could predict it! With that thought he reminded himself that he needed a shower, and set his coffee cup down on the counter, connecting with the surface much louder than he had intended. That only served to bring her attention to him, which he did not want, and he grumbled to himself. “Mind if I use your shower?“ he asked, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets. When she nodded, he stood watching her in silence, studying her closely for any sign of fear, and he was sure he saw it, but he was just as sure that she was doing her best to hide it from him. She wasn't likely to admit it, even to him, despite her display of weakness in the middle of the night. “Then when I’m done we can go get you some groceries.“ “Oh, you don’t have to — I can manage on my own.“ He grinned at her sheepishly. “But I’ve got the transportation. And besides, it looks like I’m going to be here a while, so if I’m going to help you eat it I should help you buy it too.“ Her reaction was just as he expected. “What do you mean be here a while?“ “Hector thinks it’s a good idea if I stay here with you,” he said, watching her closely. Her lips twitched again, more noticeable this time, and she compensated by smiling even wider. "I'll be fine, Simon. The window's fixed, and I'm sure those two guys won't be back anyway." Simon frowned. There was a shake in her voice he was sure she was hoping he wouldn't notice. "Listen," he said, looking straight at her now. " You're probably right, but when I was talking to Brandon last night — well, he’s not so sure that those guys won’t come back. He and Hector aren’t too keen on the idea of leaving you here alone until they are certain you aren’t in any danger.“ She stared at him. “You mean they want you to babysit me?“ Her tone was one of disbelief, yet deep down inside she realized there was a very real fear of staying in her apartment alone. She eyed him thoughtfully as she tried to balance the two options in her mind. Stay here alone and risk the thugs coming back, or stay here with Simon Crestwater and risk — She shuddered and concentrated on her coffee cup. “Brandon really thinks those guys might come back?“ He shrugged, trying to look aloof. “He seems to think they might. There’s really no way to know, but until there is more information on who they are and what they were doing here, Hector doesn’t want to take any chances. And the thing is, he's said as much to Dolores, and its gotten her very worried. If you ask me, I don’t think any of us would hear the end of it from Dolores if I left you here alone.“ Logan smiled at this, as she thought of the older lady. She liked Dolores. If it would give the woman peace of mind, perhaps having Simon underfoot for a few days wouldn’t be so bad afterall. They were two grown people and they should be able to conduct themselves in a civilized manner. She supposed all she’d have to do was set out the ground rules, and they would be able to get along well enough. “You sleep on the couch,“ she said, glancing sideways at him. He nodded. “I’ve slept worse places, the couch will be a? luxury.“ She half grinned. “Alright then. I guess we can do this for a few days.“ Simon hesitated, then nodded and headed for his shower. He hoped they could do this, but he was afraid her few days were going to end up being much longer than that. So far, there were no clues about the identity of the prowlers, and regardless of what Hector or Brandon had to say about it, he would feel much better himself if he was there to watch over her. Now that he'd satisfied everyone's concerns about her safety, including his own, there was only one other issue that he had to deal with. That being, how he was going to handle being in such close proximity with her!