by Brandy Dewinter

(c 2001, All rights reserved)

Chapter 2 - "You Can See So Much In Me"

     The movie Logan had selected was a generic action/adventure flick 
with lots of bullets, babes, and bodacious bad guys.  One of the bad 
guys, a mountain of a man with body-builder physique, conveniently managed 
to get his shirt torn during an energetic fight sequence so his hard-won
muscles could show.   If the director's expectation was that this would 
impress the audience, he was mistaken in at least one instance.  Jayla saw 
the hairy torso of the massive villain and laughed out loud.

     "Ooga, ooga," she giggled.  "Now *that* is one hairy ape!"

     "What's the matter with that?" asked Logan.  "I thought women liked 
men with hair on their chests and lots of muscles."

     "Not this woman," Jayla declared, dropping her voice back to a 
whisper.  "My darling, there are lots of things I love about you, but 
one of the things that attracted me to you is that you are not furry.  
I'd just as soon hug a monkey as a hairy man."  

     "Really?  I always thought I was a little sparse in that department."

     "Which is good, at least in my mind," she repeated.  Then she made a 
casual comment, not even looking at Logan while the hero attacked the 
villain with stunningly choreographed martial arts moves.  "Why should I 
like body hair on you any more than you would like it on me?"    

     An exploding car or building or something drowned out any response 
Logan might have made, and they returned their attention to the movie.  As
such things do, the movie had a damsel in distress to be rescued by the 
hero.  In a suitably tender scene - which is to say, rather blunt and not
very tender at all - hero and damsel shared a passionate kiss the moment 
he found her in her romantically dark prison.  Jayla reached for her own 
lover's hand, intent on giving it a teasing squeeze, only to find a firm 
obstruction along the way - very firm.  

     "Ready to go again, stud?" she snickered in his ear.  
  
     "Huh? Oh, um, sure, anytime with you, babe."  

     "You're sort of distracted," Jayla observed.  "You like that bottle 
blonde look?"  

     "You know better than that," Logan said.  I think your hair is one of
the most beautiful things about you, and I've told you that many times."

     "What's getting you so hot, then?" asked the brunette with a toss of 
her own thick hair.  

     "Um, nothing," Logan claimed, but his eyes were still locked on the 
screen.  

     Jayla looked again to see what was so special about the image, then
found her answer not in the damsel's hair, but in her distress.  She still
wore handcuffs while the hero was kissing her, adding to the apparent 
sweetness of her willing surrender.  

     "You like the handcuffs?" she asked, surprised.  "You never even 
hinted at that before."

     Even in the dimness and despite her own earlier camouflage 
application, she could see her husband's cheeks darken.  And he knew that 
she knew so he didn't try to deny it, at least not entirely.  

     "I'm not really into that sort of thing," Logan claimed, "but there's
something about, I don't know, the image of being protective that appeals
to me.  It's not so much that the girl is cuffed as that she is, um, 
dependent on him.  It seems very loving to me, on both their parts."

     Then he smiled, recovering his own composure enough to tease his wife.
"Besides, with a girl as big and as fit as you, I'd need all the advantage
I could get."  

     "So you'd like to tie me up?" she asked, a teasing grin showing that
she might be persuaded.  

     She didn't get the quick and easy agreement she expected.  Logan 
looked at her for a long moment, then said, "I'm not sure.  I, that is, 
my frat brothers and I went to a porno movie one time, well, one time 
that had bondage in it.  It didn't really do anything for me.  I know I
wouldn't like anything nonconsensual.  Maybe what caught my attention is
that she sort of presented herself to him already bound and that they 
just weren't in any hurry to undo the cuffs, like she trusted him to 
do it eventually, and to take care of her until he got around to it.  I 
don't know, really."

     Now it was Jayla's turn to give him a long, studious look.  After a 
moment they both turned their attention back to the movie.  The damsel was
indeed released, eventually, and the remaining villains satisfyingly 
whacked, eventually.  When the lights came on in the theater, Logan 
remembered for the first time in a while that he was, as he had said 
earlier, 'striking' in appearance.  

     Once again, though, no one seemed to be paying all that much 
attention, so after a moment of furtive examination of those nearby,
he relaxed.  "Okay, beautiful, I've done the public thing with your
warpaint on.  Satisfied?"  

     "Um, sure," she said, showing hesitation that belied her words.

     "Uh, oh," Logan said, his grin showing typical good humor.  "What 
now?"

     Jayla looked at her husband, specifically at the makeup she had so 
artfully applied under the promise that they would only visit a darkened 
movie theater, and tried to decide how noticeable, how 'striking' to use 
his word, he would be in a more open setting.  

     He really did look good.  If it weren't for tradition, men would be
flattered if they could be as attractive as he was.  Hell, there were 
women, lots of them, who didn't look as good as he did, though her 
technique truly had only enhanced what was already there, and that subtly.

     "Earth to Jayla:  What's going on in there?"

     "Huh, oh, nothing.  I was just wondering . . . "

     This time he gave her a prod to continue her dangling thought.  A 
literal prod - with a finger in her ribs - as well as a verbal one.  
"What are you wondering about?"  

     "I really shouldn't ask."  

     "Ask what you want.  Like I said, I'll do anything for you."

     Jayla laughed, but there was a longing still in her eyes.  She said, 
"Anything?"  

     Now Logan laughed, but he nodded.  "Even though it sounds like the 
opening to a bad novel, I mean it."

     "Sure you do.  Why, the next thing you know I might have you living 
in the doghouse wearing nothing but a leather collar."

     "Again?" he said, snickering.  

     "Oh, you.  You know I'd *never* do that.  I like having you in my bed 
too much.  

     Logan quickly stuck out his hand and said, "Deal!"  

     She slapped at his hand, then moved in behind it to hug him anyway.  
"Seriously, would you really do anything I asked?"

     "If I could," he replied, serious now himself.  "What do you want?"

     "Oh, I don't know," she answered in a frustrated tone.  "I truly love
you, and there isn't anything that really 'bugs' me a lot, but . . . "

     "But what?"

     Jayla shrugged. "I'm just weird."

     "Do you expect an argument from me?" he asked, squeezing her.

     "What? Oh.  No, not really," she said, smiling at his barb.  "I just,
um, well, I guess I need to think about it for a while."

     "Whatever.  I'm not worried."

     "You're not?" she asked, looking up at his highlighted eyes.  "That's 
a pretty blank check you've handed me."

     Logan surprised her with a question she didn't think he needed to 
ask.  "Do you love me?"

     "Of course.  Don't you know that by now?"

     "Yes, I do.  And that's the point.  You wouldn't do anything to hurt 
me, certainly not deliberately.  If you ask for something that would be 
too hard for me, I'll tell you.  And I trust you to respect that.  So I 
haven't really promised anything I consider risky, except in ways that I 
make risky by not sharing myself with you clearly enough."

     "I love you," she purred, laying her head on his chest.  

     "Yep, and I love you which is, as I said, the point."  

     After a too-short moment, just long enough to taste the warmth of 
being in his arms without really . . . absorbing it, she raised her head 
again and asked, "So, what do you want in return?"  

     "Nothing."  

     "No, really," she persisted.  "I'd like to show you the same sort of 
love you give to me."  

     "I'm glad, but I'm not doing this as some sort of negotiating 
position.  I do it because I love you, and you don't have to 'pay' me for 
that love."  

     "So, there's nothing I could do for you?"  

     Logan laughed and said, "Goodness, no!  There's *lots* of things you 
could do for me.  Lots of things you DO do for me.  I just don't want to 
cheapen them by making them something you OWE me.  I cherish them because 
you GIVE them to me even when I don't deserve them."  

     "Like what, specifically?"  

     "Like, specifically, if you have to ask, then you need to pay more 
attention to me.  Figure it out for yourself.  I'm sure I'll be pleased."  

     "Oh, poo.  That's not fair," Jayla declared, showing a pout that had
literally made her a million dollars.  

     He was unfazed.  "Probably, but like I said, this is not some sort of 
negotiated deal.  It's a total commitment.  You tell me what you want, and
I'll try to make it happen."      
            
     The pout vanished from her full lips, transformed into a teasing grin 
as an idea came to her.  "Would you consider going out to dinner?"

     "Now?"  

     She smiled and said, "Yes, that *is* what I had in mind."  

     "You think I look okay?"

     "*I* think you look terrific," she said firmly.  "But I don't want 
you to be uncomfortable, and I truly don't know what others will think.  
That's part of the problem."  

     Logan looked at her for a moment, trying to gauge the degree of her
desire.  And it occurred to him that he didn't understand the basic need
that was driving her.  "Why do you care?  I thought you just wanted to see
how your stuff looked like on a redhead.  What you did is subtle enough 
that even on a guy it didn't cause any particular problem, so it would for
sure work on a woman.  What else do you need to know?"  

     "I don't know," admitted Jayla.  "I just have this, I don't know, 
urge to push it a bit further."

     "Planning to open a new line of makeup for men?"

     "No, not really.  There already are some, you know.  But that market
is pretty small and probably will continue to be small.  Of course, I can
remember when men didn't wear earrings, so I'm sure that someday men will 
break the makeup barrier, too, but I don't see that happening anytime 
soon."

     "So, what's the big deal then?"

     Jayla pouted a little, frustrated in not being able to scratch the 
mental itch that was bothering her.  "Maybe I just like the way you look,"
she finally said.  "Or maybe I just want to show you off a little.  My 
trophy husband."  

     "Now *that* is a strange idea," Logan said, laughing.  "The 
supermodel with the computer geek on her arm, and *I* am supposed to be 
the trophy?  Get real."  

     "I was never a 'supermodel'," she said.  "Just a working girl with a
sense of what real-world women need."

     "Well, you're pretty super to me," Logan said, making the obligatory
claim.  "And if you want to go get something to eat, I can stand it."  

     They ended up in a salad and burgers place they both liked, modeled 
on an American Graffiti diner though the yuppy salads were hardly 
authentic from the period.  It was, however, as brightly lit as a 50's 
diner with lots of windows.  Logan went to snag a booth, then tried to 
look inconspicuous while Jayla ordered.  It didn't really work.  He 
noticed a few islands of whispering, accompanied by quick glances that 
were dropped when he looked back.  

     Jayla had noticed, too.  "We shouldn't have come here," she whispered
as she sat facing him.

     "It'll be all right," he replied, smiling.  

     "You don't mind?"

     He shrugged and said, "I don't enjoy the sense of being gawked at 
like a freak, but I can deal with it.  Just don't start doing the same
thing yourself."

     "Oh, Logan, I'm sorry.  I really didn't mean for this to happen."

     "Don't worry about it," he said, patting her hand.  "It could be a 
lot worse."  

     "Well," promised Jayla, "I won't ever ask you to do this again."

     "It's not that big a deal," Logan reassured her.  "Do you think I've
suddenly turned into a freak?"

     "No!" she declared fiercely, for all that she kept her voice low. 
"I still think you look terrific.  I just wish other people would let us 
do what we want without judging us."  

     "A noble sentiment," he said, lifting his glass - well, cardboard cup 
- to her in toast.  

     "Oh, you," Jayla said, tears forming in her eyes.  "You really are 
special, you know?"

     "I'm glad you think so."  
   
     They ate in silence for a while, quickly finishing their simple meal. 

     "Ready to go?" Logan asked.

     "Very much so," Jayla replied, pulling out her lipstick to repair the
damage from their meal.

     "Do I need to do that, too?" her decorated husband asked, grinning.

     "Yes, as a matter of fact," she said, smiling back at him.  "But I 
seem to have forgotten to bring your shade of lipstick with me."  

     "Too bad," he replied, laughing in a way that banished any concerns, 
even those that were actually making Jayla feel guilty.    

     Still, when they got back to their home, she was unhappy.  "I truly 
am sorry, Logan.  I never meant for you to be embarrassed."  

     "I know that, beautiful.  But you have to realize that I don't care 
about anyone else's opinion of me - just yours.  Are you embarrassed to 
have been seen with a . . . whatever I looked like?"

     "No!  Just the opposite, in fact.  I was so proud that you would, um,
indulge me like that, even at some cost to yourself.  And I *still* think
you look terrific."

     "Then that's the end of any guilt.  We had a good time.  It might not 
have been exactly what we expected, but that's part of what made it a fun
evening."

     She looked at him in surprise.  "You had fun?!"

     "Sure.  It was certainly different.  No ruts around you, milady.  
Nor me when I'm with you."  

     "So, are you going to do it again?"

     "Ah, well," he stammered, blushing.  "Okay, you caught me.  I'd do it
if you want me to, but I can't say that I would get all painted up just 
for my own amusement."  

     The he chuckled and said, "After all, we've done this now.  It 
wouldn't be 'different' to do it again."  

     "Ah, well," she said, mimicking him, "I guess I'll have to think up
something else, then." 

     "I'm sure you will."  

     She helped him cream off everything, showing him ways to cleanse and 
moisturize his skin that were good ideas for men, too, and then they went 
to bed.  

     In the morning, while he was packing for that week's trip, he slipped 
a couple of extra items into his bags.  Unknown to him, she was making her
own plans for the week - and for his return at the end of it.

     The pile of things he had placed by the door included his flying gear, 
so as he got ready to leave, she said, "You're taking your plane?"

     Logan nodded and said, "Yes.  That way, I won't have to fight for a 
flight out. I'm not sure just when we'll finish.  If I get the job, it 
will be Friday morning before I can leave, mid-afternoon before I get 
back.  Of course, if they tell me to take a hike, I'll be back on Tuesday."

     "I guess I'll just have to plan on a surprise for Friday, then."

     "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said, hugging her.  "You 
really are good for my ego."  

     "Even after last night?" she asked, frowning.  

     "Especially after last night," he declared.  "And yesterday afternoon,
and, oh, *lots* of times."  

     Jayla slapped his arm, but the frown disappeared and a bright smile 
replaced it.  With a final wave, Logan gathered up his bags and left.  She
stood in the doorway until his car was out of sight, and while he noticed 
the gesture he was too far away to see her expression clearly.  If he had, 
he would have seen a frown of concentration near her eyes despite her 
happily upturned lips.  Behind those eyes, her own plans were churning 
rapidly.