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Logan returned home to an interesting sight. There was a man peering into his front window through the blinds of his house. Logan paused on the sidewalk and observed the man for a few moments with his arms crossed. “Can I help you?” he eventually asked.
The man spun around in surprise, but quickly did his best to recover, squaring his shoulders and plastering a serious look on his face. “Are you Virgil Sanders?” he asked.
Logan cocked an eyebrow. “No.”
That seemed to throw him. “Oh,” he said. “Is… is this your house?”
“Yes.”
“Cool,” he said, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I, um, like your shrubs?”
“The ones you are standing in?”
“…Yes.”
“If you’re planning to burglarize me, I’d advise against it,” Logan said. “I have only a few things of value and of those, most are my research which you likely could not easily exchange for money.” He tilted his head and thought for a moment. “Well, I do have a television, but I rarely use it and it’s very old. You’d be doing me a favor really; I wouldn’t have to find a way to take it to the dump once it finally ceases working.”
“I’m not a burglar.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m a police officer,” he explained. “I’m looking for Virgil Sanders.”
“Whatever for?” Logan asked.
“That’s official police business.”
Logan tilted his head. “Virgil doesn’t seem like the type to commit a crime and he hasn’t mentioned witnessing any.”
“You know Virgil Sanders?” the man asked.
“He’s my roommate,” Logan answered simply.
“Wait so I am at the right house!” the man exclaimed. “Why did you say I wasn’t?”
Logan squinted at him. “I said nothing of the sort.”
There was a long pause. “I guess you didn’t.”
“Virgil will be home in half an hour,” Logan said. “You can come in if you’d like.”
“Sure,” the officer said. “Royal, by the way. Remus Royal.”
“Logan Berry,” Logan replied, struggling to unlock the front door with the bag in his arm.
“Oh, here let me help,” Officer Royal said, grabbing the bag from him. “Oh my god, what’s in this? Rocks?” he asked immediately, stumbling forward a bit at the unexpected weight.
“Yes,” Logan replied. “I just taught a seminar on metamorphic rocks and have my case of samples in it.” Logan finished unlocking his door.
“…Oh.” The officer said. “Huh. You must have a lot of muscles under that nerdy shirt.”
Logan looked back at him for a moment. He just grinned innocently. Logan shook his head and walked into the house. “You can set the bag by the door.”
He heard the man obey as he walked into the kitchen and went straight for the tea kettle. He needed tea to deal with this day.
The officer shuffled into the kitchen. “Have a seat,” Logan instructed, waving at the kitchen table.
He readied the tea pot and chose a blueberry flavored tea before grabbing two mugs. He filled each mug with tea and walked over to the table.
“I don’t make a habit of accepting drinks while on official business,” Officer Royal said when he sat one of the mugs down in front of him.
Logan rolled his eyes. “What am I supposed to have done with it?”
“Oh, there are all sorts of things someone could put in tea: hallucinogens that drive you mad, poison that tears apart your insides, cinnamon.”
Logan couldn’t help but snort. He quickly covered his mouth, but the police officer’s eyes still flickered up to his and he grinned. “What if you get thirsty waiting for Virgil?” Logan asked.
“Guess I suffer.”
Logan hummed. “Well, allowing that would make me a bad host. What if I take a sip of it so you know for sure there isn’t any cinnamon in it? Would you drink it then?”
He considered. “Sure,” he said after a moment. “Why not?” Logan picked the mug back up and took a quick sip out of it, Officer Royal’s eyes intent on him.
“Does that suffice?” he asked.
The officer nodded and took the mug from him. “Thanks.”
Logan waved him off. “Of course.” He sat down in the seat across from him.
“So, you’re a professor?” Remus asked.
“Just a guest lecturer. Grading and dealing with undergraduate students are not activities I relish in the idea of. I prefer to focus on my research and travel when I wish rather than being a professor. It makes for a less predictable life, but more rewarding.”
“Sounds like an interesting career path. I didn’t peg you as someone who likes danger like that.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I have a good sense for people.”
Logan smiled into his tea. “Do you?”
Officer Royal’s eyes narrowed on him. “Do you doubt me?”
“Of course, not Officer Royal.”
“You can call me Remus,” he offered.
“Remus then,” Logan accepted, “What do your impressive police officer senses say about me, then?”
Remus sat back and considered him for a long moment. “You like Science Fiction.”
Logan glanced down at the Doctor Who mug Virgil had gotten him for Christmas. “And how ever could you have figured that out?” he asked dryly.
“You have a degree in geology.”
“I came home with a bag of rocks, Remus.”
“You’re usually the smartest person in the room.”
“Well that’s just a fact.”
Remus grinned and then leaned forward like he was telling him a secret. “You like men.”
Logan leaned forward himself. “Wistful thinking.”
“Doesn’t make it false.”
“Hmm. Perhaps not.”
Remus’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he continued to make hypotheses about Logan which grew more and more personal each time. Logan had to admit, he was quite entertaining. Logan even shared a few of his jam filled thumbprint cookies with him as they spoke as a reward for the amusement.
“Here,” Logan said quite a while later, picking up both of the mugs. “Virgil should be home in a few minutes. Have one more cup of tea.”
He accepted easily and took another cookie, continuing to blatantly flirt until Logan heard the front door open.
“Hey Lo, I’m home,” Virgil called.
“In the kitchen Virgil,” he responded.
Virgil walked into the kitchen and his eyes fell on Remus. “Who’s your friend?”
Remus stood quickly to turn to him. “I’m Officer…” but then he paused, wavering a bit on his feet. “Uh… I.”
Virgil hopped forward on instinct to catch the man as he fell. Always good in an emergency, Virgil. Logan rounded the table.
“Woah, dude what happened?” Virgil asked, lowering him down carefully.
“I…” Remus said, squinting up at Virgil.
Logan leaned forward while the two were distracted and grabbed the handcuffs off of Remus’s waist before quickly snapping one of the cuffs around Virgil’s wrist and attaching the other to the kitchen table.
There was a pause. “Lo, what the hell?” Virgil asked.
“Apologies,” Logan said getting to his feet, “I did not want you coming home to an unconscious body and contacting the authorities before I had time to get away.”
“Oh fuck,” Remus said, leaning his head back against the floor.
Logan just hummed. “Virgil isn’t the hacker I assume you’re looking for, by the way,” he informed the man.
“Holy shit, what the hell are you talking about?” Virgil asked, pulling at the cuffs.
“I’ve been running a criminal enterprise off of my laptop Virgil, please keep up.”
“Shit,” Remus said. He was clearly fading from consciousness.
“Unfortunately, the police are getting far too close for comfort. So, I will have to be going. I set up an account to make automatic payments for the rest of the lease, so don’t worry about that. You won’t see me again.”
“And you’re just going to leave me here cuffed to a fucking table? I thought we were friends.”
Logan reached down and patted him on the head. “We are, Virgil. That’s why you aren’t currently drugged. Don’t worry, the drug in his system will wear off within a few hours and I’m sure he’ll release you then. In the unlikely event he happens to die from it, well, I’m sure another police officer will be dispatched to track him down before you can suffer any ill effects from dehydration.”
With that, Logan turned away from him. He would regret never seeing him again; he quite liked Virgil, but such was life. He ignored Virgil’s yelling as he packed up what little he needed and slipped out of house with no plans to return.