Archive of Our Own

Rolling to his side, Logan stretches his arm out, but it falls to an empty side of the bed. His eyebrows furrow, even in his half-asleep state. He assumes it must be a mistake.

He reaches further.

Nothing.

He feels down the blankets.

Nothing.

He pats the bed in case he somehow managed to mistake his girlfriend for a mattress.

Nothing.

He humphs, air leaving his nose like a disgruntled bull when he realizes tonight will mimic last night and the night before. Why did that withered old landlord pick now to finally pass away? Why did he operate in riddles?

Why did Louise need to solve them well after midnight?

As he curses Fischoeder a hundredth time (and sends a small apology afterward, knowing Louise was fond of him), Logan rolls to his back and wonders how he’s supposed to get any sleep without her here.

The fear is unwarranted. After only a few more minutes of restless tossing, Logan falls into an uneasy slumber.

1. Fire and Vice

“Looogan?”

He wondered about the sensation he felt after hearing the misleading, saccharine tones of the elderly warlord call his name. It couldn’t be ice down his spine. Ice comforted him. Every time Logan conjured a snowball with his fingertips or an iceboard with his feet, it was dependable, sturdy, and protective. He found safety in the cold.

It couldn’t have been a fire in his belly either. He remembered how Louise’s flames tickled his sides the last time they fought, forcing him to shoot up into the clouds to avoid being singed anymore. It induced adrenaline and made him laugh while playing their game again.

He concluded Calvin was just creepy. No phenomenon attached.

“I’m here,” Logan stated the obvious with a sarcastic wave, taking a break from applying burn ointment to his calf. They kept a special stock ready for him. He once asked that they just make his suit fireproof—and they had to some degree—but whatever Louise threw at him was always just a bit too hot for anyone to handle. Not that he let anyone else try.

He set the salve down to blend into the rest of the steel gray of the med bay then gave his full attention to Calvin, who had yet to enter the room.

With every measured step he took forward, Calvin’s cane hit the ground with a severe tick, thin but nearly powerful enough to dent the concrete under their feet.

“I notice you’re back again from another mission.”

Tick.

Logan only nodded.

“And you’re not dead.”

Tick.

He nodded again.

“Neither is the little bunny girl.”

Tick.

Oh. That.

Tick.

“I heard some dribble from that analyst, Habercore, but I’d like to hear it from you now.”

Logan waited for another tick, but instead the sharp point landed under his chin and forced him to make true eye contact.

“Why is Louise still alive?” The tone leaking out of Calvin’s mouth suggested something playful, almost childlike in sharp contrast to their conversation. “I thought I said I wanted their territory. Didn’t I say that? Is that right?” 

“I’m assigned to Louise.” He let his eyes lose some focus in the space in front of Calvin so that he didn’t look away or come off as too intentionally staring ahead. He could work his magic on a mass of white silk and leather, not so much on the actual man controlling the town with the power to steal abilities and life forces for himself. “The goal isn’t to kill. It’s to distract.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” Logan continued even while knowing Hugo would have explained this in depth already, “Louise is one of their strongest fighters. If she’s focused on me, it takes her away from the fight.”

Calvin tipped his head to the side. “I do believe being dead would take her away from the fight.”

“She’s one of the strongest and one of the youngest. She’s barely twenty-three, and then compared to everyone else’s decade in the field… it would make her a martyr.”

“That’s why the solution is… you?”

“We’re evenly matched,” Logan parroted the same phrase he explained to his own mother again and again when she saw him returning with the same result. “Canceling each other out means we can use our superior resources in other areas to tip the scales.”

“How embarrassing for you.” Calvin tsked. “Paired with someone your junior and you can’t keep up.”

Logan left a beat before replying, trying and failing to keep his ego out of it. “It’s not entirely true. I know the extent of my powers better than her.”

“Oh, so you could kill her.”

“I… can’t say for sure. That was never my assignment.”

“Well, how about this.” Calvin tapped the cane against Logan’s chin twice. “I am not in the business of keeping things even. I want their side crushed so soundly that they cry home to their mommies and daddies or whatever poor people have. I want to win. So, it’s her head. Or yours.”

The cane slid down to his throat and pressed into the skin a little deeper. Saliva pooled in his mouth as he avoided swallowing and his tongue felt heavy, but he answered anyway.

“Yes, Mr. Fischoeder.”

Tick.

“Good, good.” Calvin beamed, tapping his cane against the ground once more, but the sound brought no relief. “I’m looking forward to what happens next, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Fischoeder.”

-

In the middle of training, Logan contemplated his options.

He could set a trap, maybe with a pit of ice daggers hidden in one of the craters left in the abandoned cityscape.

The dummy he practiced on was splayed on the ground beneath him, frozen daggers protruding from all angles over its odd body. His lip curled, and he kicked the faceless mannequin away, shrouding the entire thing in a thick casing of ice.

Or freeze her whole, layer upon layer of ice until she couldn’t melt it anymore, completely deprived of oxygen.

Pinching his fingers together, he produced a thin, sharp pick.

He could spear her heart.

No one approached Logan during the days following that conversation with Calvin. They didn’t know the details or that the two had even spoke, but they knew Logan’s temper was at an all-time high and steered clear. Friends and family alike.

It wasn’t until a grim-faced Hugo set a manilla envelope in front of him that he got his first taste of human contact since that day in the med bay.

“This is the one where we lose,” Hugo said, likely more bitter about his plans being disrupted than the actual execution he scheduled. What would he know about killing? His powers of probability were completely useless in the field. He never went home covered in blood. Not his own. Not his enemy’s.

Logan would decide in the moment.

-

On some level, they found each other predictable.

Louise punched at the air and sent a fireball towards him, and it was dismissed by a cloud of snow he conjured seconds before.

They had to know where each other would move; their elements were too dangerous to leave to chance.

Logan knew everything about her powers. He remembered when she first learned how to make rings of fire that would pulse from her like a shockwave. He knew what to say to make her whips falter before burning the intended target. He knew she couldn’t fly yet.

She knew how to provoke him too.

Like today.

When they spotted each other amongst the wreckage of what once used to be downtown, it was on sight. He sent a tornado of icicles that she dodged with a flaming wall.

Louise, with her ears perked, waited for him to speak like he always did. He loved taunting her. He loved how she delivered it right back.

But not this time.

He was on her with another barrage of spears, keeping her on her toes and moving constantly.

“What happened, Lolo?” Louise asked mockingly while sliding behind an upturned car for cover. She called out to him still. “Did things not work with Jennifer? You a little pent up?”

It was one time, one time, Louise and him ran into each other as civilians. It wasn’t like they ever bothered using fake names or wearing masks. Spotting each other was the easy part.

In a crowded restaurant, she managed to overhear his date use a terrible and unapproved nickname. To his dismay, she never let it go.

She was there when Jennifer left the date early—it was a conversation at the restaurant bar that night—and Louise knew they didn’t see each other after that, but it was her favorite thing to bring up.

He had tossed out a line about how stupid her date had looked in a bolo tie, but it didn’t faze her a bit. Fine. Logan had let the image of the other man in his mind fade away, satisfied that at least neither of them were getting laid that night.

The memory stung in a different way now, and being ditched paled in comparison.

Logan continued to throw slurry at her without a word.

She responded in kind, moving closer and melting what she could.

Louise needed closer contact to fight, otherwise her flames would fizzle out before they reached him.

He used that against her, grabbing her by the waist and manipulating the temperature so that a cold wind rocketed them to the building above.

In that moment of weightlessness, he regretted never getting the chance to scoop her up into the skies before. He wanted her to cling to him and worry about whether he’d drop her from his iceboard, knowing he wouldn’t because he wanted to show off that it was something great, something he could do that she couldn’t.

His eyes scanned the roof for any previous scorch marks or dents left from ice. Could he convince her this was a significant place for them? Maybe that way the end could mean something? Make it special at least.

“Hey! I could have seriously fucked us both up with your little detour, you psychopath.”

“You should have,” he said.

They fought just a little longer, his lack of banter finally getting to her and registering that this fight was something different. It was less surface area to work with on the roof, meaning she had the advantage.

But she never could have predicted his sudden grab at her suit, hoisting her over the edge, and letting her dangle.

She dug into the hands keeping her from falling down the length of the skyscraper and frustratingly searched his face for an answer.

“Wha-” Louise halfway formed a word but didn’t know how to voice it. They were enemies, they fought, that’s what they did. So this really shouldn’t be a surprise, and yet…

It was confusion, not fear, dominating her features.

“It’s me or you.” He blinked, hands shaking but not from the weight of holding her. “It’s me or you.”

There were too many similarities.

They manipulated elements. They were fighters. They understood each other.

There were too many differences.

She believed in a cause. He believed in surviving.

When the chips were down, preservation of life always favored the one clinging more desperately to it.

Logan let go, and Louise fell.

She didn’t scream, but he guessed they were both in shock. He couldn’t blink, waiting for her mind to catch up and release the fear or anguish or whatever she felt. He deserved to be haunted by it.

Selfishly, he admitted to himself he’d rather hear echoes of her voice than the sound of her body hitting pavement.

Neither came.

It took a moment to hear the hum, his ears not tuned into sounds other than the two he expected.

A figure blocked the sun, casting a shadow over him. He finally blinked.

There she was, hair haloed, chest heaving, eyes wild, and flames erupting from below her boots to keep her in the air.

“Guess what I just figured out how to do, motherfucker.”

Louise was always a quick learner.

Logan was out cold before he could think anything else.

2. Hot for Sitter

“Well well well, Louiiise Belcher.”

Her head perked up from her inspection of the two boxed cake mixes in her hands.

The voice came from behind her in the aisle, and was familiar but not. Turning, she instinctively angled her vision down and saw only the bottom edges of a white t-shirt with a red flannel hanging over it. Moving up his body, Louise finally met eyes with who she had to assume was Logan.

The rest of him may have changed, but the annoying smirk was the same.

“Oh.” She blinked at him. “You got taller.”

“Yeah that’s what happens after puberty.”

His voice was definitely deeper now too compared to the whine from when she knew him. It still had that edge of rasp that she remembered from all the times he called out for her for any and every reason.

She was about to wish him farewell—if “whelp, see ya” counted as a farewell—and continue pushing her shopping cart, but another man popped out from behind him suddenly.

“Hey Logan, I got the- oh. Who’s this?”

Logan gave a look she couldn’t read then gestured to her with a grand swing.

“This… is Louise Belcher.” He grinned at her. “My old babysitter.”

“No. Tina was your babysitter,” Louise corrected, considering going back to the cake boxes in her hands. Instead, she popped her hip to lean around Logan and address who she assumed was his friend. “I filled in for my older sister once or twice.”

“Four times, actually,” he said, correcting her now.

“Three and a half,” she finished, remembering that time Tina needed to leave halfway through her shift. Something about a text from her then-boyfriend that she needed to fix.

“Alright, three and a half. Kind of embarrassing you kept track.”

“You want to hear something really embarrassing?” Louise asked. “This guy needed a sitter until he was fifteen.”

“Oh, Logan,” the friend said, shaking his head in shame. “That’s so sad.”

“Yeah it’s my fault my parents couldn’t trust me to be on my own.”

“Well… yeah it is?”

“Whatever,” Logan said and rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you check out? I’ll catch up with you.”

The friend paused, pursing his lips but conceding to take the energy drinks from Logan’s hands. He moved to go but said over his shoulder, “I’m leaving without you if I have to.”

“I’ll walk.” Waving off the other man, Logan turned back to her. He cocked his head. “So, what have you been up to?”

She went to answer, something short and dismissive, but the words sat on her tongue at the sight before her.

He was checking her out.

Openly and without shame, his gaze drifted down her body and up again, eyes half-lidded. He finally made it back to her face and waggled his eyebrows.

“Can I help you?” Louise asked. Instinct demanded she cross her arms, but the cake boxes would have made that less than natural. And in any case, she didn’t need to hide from some kid leering at her.

“Depends. Does your spouse let you out of the house often enough?”

“Spou- I’m not married?”

“They haven’t worked up the nerve to propose?”

“No, I- what?” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not seeing anybody.”

“Oh you’re single! What a coincidence, so am I.”

Laughing at him as loudly and cruelly as socially acceptable in a Fresh Feed, she leaned an elbow against the handles of the cart behind her.

“Shooting your shot in a grocery store, huh?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he leaned forward, “but you could help it be the last?”

After a low whistle, Louise shook her head. “Does that line really work? Or did you just hit your head too hard running into the garage door?”

“You were trying to lock me outside!”

“I successfully locked you outside. And you deserved it. You were being a little shit.”

Snickering, Logan licked his lips and shrugged. “Alright, maybe I was. You were always more fun to mess with than Tina.”

“Is that why you were better with her?”

His eyebrows furrowed momentarily. He left a too long pause in the conversation to look around the crowded shelves surrounding them. Louise scratched her head with one of the boxes before realizing she could actually choose one. She almost did before he interrupted her train of thought.

“I wasn’t better. She just ran a tight ship, and I wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah right. You know you wouldn’t be the first one of her kids to tell me they were sucking up to her because of her,” Louise mimed in front of her, “you know.”

“Nope,” Logan said, popping the P. “She was a coddler and dictator at the same time. You and I played around with the fighting, but you weren’t condescending like she was.” He paused. “And you were hotter.”

Well, that was a first.

It had been the subject of a few conversations between Tina and Louise. It ended up happening, unfairly, that the two sisters would get compared, and there were consistencies in the notes. While the younger girl came off as conventionally prettier, her rougher personality usually scared anyone with a brain away. Anyone who had a conversation with the self-assured and kind Tina fell for her instantly.

Plus? Tina had huge tits. At the end of the day, most people gravitated towards her for hugs that lasted just a little too long.

Which Louise was more than happy with. Socializing, romance, people… those weren’t her things anyway.

But it was weird now, hearing from someone that… genuinely seemed to like her more.

She gave him another once over, noting the ways he’d changed. He had matured pretty well. Obviously tall, with a nice jawline, and a haircut that suited his blonde playboy shtick. He was still pretty lean, but at least he didn’t look like he’d immediately break something now if he fell off that skateboard of his. It was the only time she was kind of nice to him, when he came back inside limping and pretending like he wasn’t.

Then she remembered he used to snap her bra strap when her back was turned and soured again.

The good thing about being in a public place was that there were little repercussions if she left the conversation suddenly. The bad thing was that other people were around.

“Excu- oh my, is that Logan?”

“Hi, Mrs. Jackson,” he said, shifting to stand off to the side so that she could get around them.

Logan nodded politely at the woman passing, and she returned it with her own grin. Louise recognized her from the restaurant, Candace, and waved as well.

“And here’s little Louise,” Mrs. Jackson cooed. “Are you good? Will you tell your mom I said hi?”

“Sure thing.”

Mrs. Jackson beamed. This one was always a talker. It took forever to separate Linda and her. She opened her mouth but stopped, glanced between the two, and took note of how they seemed to be in conversation. She kept pushing the cart along.

“Well, I hope I bump into you again. Logan, next time none of this Mrs. Jackson business. Candy is fine. After all.” Mrs. Jackson chuckled to herself and moved on.

Louise waited a beat, then jutted her thumb at the empty space beside her. “What was that about?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, little Louise.”

He crossed his arms, smug with his fresh ammo, but Louise wasn’t having it. Raising two fingers, she pointed at her own eyes and then his.

“You know what I’m talking about. The look.”

“Oh.” Shrugging, the smirk grew. “I told you. I shoot a lot of shots in the grocery store.”

She nearly dropped her boxes. “Mrs. Jackson?? She could be MY mother?!”

“Yeah well, we all do crazy things when we’re nineteen.”

“Nine-” Louise spluttered. “Logan, she took advantage of you.”

“You weren’t there that night,” Logan said, blowing her off. “It was definitely the other way around.”

“Lo-”

As he ticked off his fingers, he inched closer to her, letting his voice drop lower with the sordid details. “I had snuck into a bar I wasn’t supposed to be in, her husband and her had just had a fight, and I lied about my age. What does that sound like to you?”

Louise bounced on her heels then sighed. “Like you’re a creep.”

“There you go.”

“Glad to see you turned out exactly like how everyone thought you would,” she said, shaking her head and moving to inspect the cake boxes in her hands again. Why had she even needed these?

That comment apparently got to him. His hand came into view, grabbing at the cake box. He had big hands. Peering up, she found his face dark.

“That’s not fair. People didn’t really ever give me a chance to prove them wrong either.” He blinked, studied the ground, then stepped back. His voice lightened. “You should give me a chance.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Little bit,” he agreed. “Come on, we can catch up on all the good times we had together.”

“The three times I was at your house.”

“Three and a half. Because of when Tina somehow, accidentally, texted her boyfriend that it was over.”

Something in his tone made her pause. Tina wouldn’t give those details to him, or he could have passed that along to Cynthia. And boyfriend troubles weren’t exactly a reasonable excuse to ditch babysitting.

Louise’s mouth fell open.

“Did YOU do that?”

Logan picked at his nails, voice nonchalant. “I wanted the fun Belcher.”

“They broke UP because of that.”

“Oh nooo,” he dragged out, mocking. “Was that the love of her life? Did she really find her soulmate in college and one text ruined it?”

Tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth, Louise failed to answer. No, obviously he didn’t. Tina had another man on the hook a month later, and if that had failed she always could have pulled from her hometown reserves.

After a beat, Logan reached out with one of his long arms and booped her nose. She twitched away from it and glared when he started speaking again.

“So you and that one chick didn’t work out either, huh?”

It took her a second for her memory to catch up with her before remembering her high school girlfriend.

“By ‘that one chick’ you mean Jessica. We’re still friends, but she’s happily married to another woman.” Her face scrunched up as it clicked. “Were you jealous?”

“Oh hey congrats, Albert Belcherstein. It only took you a couple years to figure that out. Maybe in the next couple you’ll get that I’m hitting on you right now.” Logan rolled his eyes when she expressed her obvious apprehension. “At least I didn’t try to break you two up. I’ll tell you about the other pranks I DID do over dinner.”

Louise scoffed at how he brought it back around to his original point.

“Listen,” she said and clapped the cake boxes together for his attention. He was too close now, and she had to crane her neck to make eye contact. “Just because kids eat free doesn’t mean I’m taking you out.”

“You know it’s really hard to take that seriously when you’re having to look up to talk to me.”

“A tall kid but a kid.”

“If you really believe that, call the cops on Candy.”

Louise straightened. “Maybe I will.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Okay, I’m gonna.”

“Good. Take your phone out.”

“I- my hands are full,” she said, lamely gesturing to the godforsaken cake boxes still in her hold. He went to take them from her, but she jerked back.

“Come on,” he egged. “Do it. Call somebody. Call my mom. Call my dad. He’s a politician, he could do something about it if you really think I’m still a kid.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Pussy.”

Louise growled low in her throat but resigned with a huff. Eyes closing, she asked the question she knew would only dig her grave deeper.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Louise shook her head and asked again.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

Louise’s eyes opened, and she glared.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” his hands raised in surrender, “and that’s my final answer.”

With a bit of mental math, Louise concluded twenty-one probably was the range, meaning he was about six years younger than her. If men could date younger women with twice as large age gaps, she could… talk to him.

But as soon as the thought entered her head she forced it out again. “No, no. You’re practically a baby, I’m not thinking about this.”

“Come onnn,” Logan groaned. “Aren’t you a little curious?”

“No,” she lied. “This is the first and last time I’ll be thinking about you at all.”

“That hurts. I still think about you some days,” he said, cocking his head to reminisce. “Mostly in the morning. Sometimes before bed. Depends on when I take a shower, really.”

“Goodbye.”

“Stay,” he said, reaching out and catching the bottom of her hoodie to keep her in place.

Looking down at his firm grip, she mumbled more to herself but let him hear all the same. “You should be arrested for harassment.”

“But, you can’t put kids in jail for that? Unless…” Logan let go, crossed his arms, and pinched his chin in feigned confusion. “Unless, I really AM a grown ass man.”

“Fine, fine!” She threw up her arms. “You’re an adult, now act like one and stop trying to fuck me in the middle of a grocery store!”

“Ma’am!! Language!”

Louise closed her eyes and groaned. She didn’t bother turning around to the probably irate mother covering her child’s ears and glaring daggers at her. Instead, she finally chose the double chocolate, tossing it into her cart with a loud clank and putting the other one back on the shelf. She grabbed at the handles of her cart to move on, but Logan blocked her.

“Fine fine, I pushed too much, I get it. Sorry, I just,” Logan shrugged, “was excited to see someone I used to like being around.”

“I almost gave you an allergic reaction on purpose once.”

“And I put hot sauce on the toilet seat, so?” He let go of the cart, raising his hands in surrender. “How about we just catch up for fun? No strings. And I swear I’ll tell you everything I ever did to mess with Tina.”

She would be a good sister if she did meet with him, right? Confirm what other parts of Tina’s life he ruined? Louise tapped her foot.

“I’ll… think about it.”

“Cool.” He looked out past her, probably to the checkout lanes where his friend was long gone. “While you’re thinking about it though, I’ve been craving a good burger. Like a real hankering. Do you know where I can get one?”

Persistent little shit.

3. Rabbit Hood

It all happened so fast.

“You can’t arrest me!” Louise thrashed against the hold of the guards flanking her on either side. “You’ve nothing you can prove!”

“No?” Logan asked, then indicated the blood dripping down his cheek. “A threat to the crown? That’s a hanging.”

Initially, she aimed to rob a rather unassuming carriage. Maybe that of a viscount or visiting baron. Someone who would be carrying enough to feed the village another day but not someone to be missed. Absolutely none of her crew could have expected the crown prince to step out armed to the tooth.  

One of her bandits tossed an alchemist’s ball into the fray, throwing up a screen of smoke to further confuse the crowd exiting the carriage. She used the opportunity to ditch her mask and weapons and run, but… she heard cries. She had to go back.

Throwing the rock was only to get them to release Jess.

On the bright side, they dropped Jess as another higher value target came into range.

“I’m only a passerby,” she defended. Her father would have hushed her by now, proud that she spoke up but wise to how useless defending against the crown could be. “Wouldn’t you jump to the aid of a hurt woman?”  

“A passerby,” Logan scoffed. “I know exactly who you are.” His guards had to tighten their hold as he leaned down to her height and lightly dusted her chin with the tip of his gloved knuckle. He finished with a whispered, “little rabbit.”

As far as jails went, Louise assumed this one could be worse.

She had no skeletal company, so the cell smelled of stale air instead of decay. The only window was too small and too high for her to reach, if her hands hadn’t already been shackled to the iron ball and chain to her side. She sat on the ground, elbow propped on the ball, and waited.

Not for freedom, which she explicitly told her bandits not to attempt if she was ever captured. They would put her contingency plan in motion, one they bemoaned but eventually agreed to.

No, Louise would see the sun rise one more time, but it would never set again. For her at least.

Instead, she waited for the sheriff to make his boastful appearance. Bosco rarely caught anyone that wasn’t handed to him, and she had a sneaking suspicion he would come back to take credit for someone else’s work, simply because he had been the one to throw her in.

As if reading her thoughts, multiple heavy bolts outside her door unlatched. With an eyebrow raised in condescension, she lazily greeted her visitor.

Except it wasn’t the portly jailer that entered.

A tall and lithe figure, cloaked so that no part of their identity could be spotted, breezed into the cell and shut the door behind them. Once her only chance of escape was firmly closed, the hood fell to reveal a shock of blond hair.

Shit.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Louise’s courage sat like a stone in her stomach, present but useless when facing him while shackled.

“Come to gloat?” Louise asked, hoping to bait him into revealing his intentions sooner.

“Just returning what’s yours,” Logan replied, pulling her mask from his inner pocket. He held it aloft, as though testing it against her face from his spot by the door. “I’ve caught glimpses of you, you know, when you’re stealing my things.” He lowered the fabric. “You don’t quite live up to the stories.”

He dropped it on the ground, far out of her reach. He meant to taunt her.

“That’s not mine,” she said, maintaining steady eye contact and refusing to cower, lest he confuse it for reverence.

“And how about our moment by the river? Do you think I’d forget what your eyes feel like on me?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, your grace,” Louise spit.

“No?” Logan asked, untying the coat and letting it drop.

Her eyes darted down, but he was fully clothed unlike by the river, a moment she had tried for weeks to pretend never happened.

Catching the glimpse, Logan only cocked an eyebrow at her slip.

“I got your notes, by the way.” Angling his body so that she could see the small stack hanging out of his pocket, he bodily encouraged her to keep looking at him.

Louise bit at the inside of her cheek to keep from incriminating herself further. The notes did seem to be opened and well-worn, but asking what he thought would only send her to the noose faster.

They were simple letters.

Some were rebellious decrees, some insults to him, and some that told him how exactly he needed to fix things once he took the crown from Prince Regent James, who was only supposed to fill in for King Thomas until Logan came of age. While she didn’t truly believe Logan would ever ascend to the crown, she imagined the blow to his ego at being instructed by a peasant would be delicious.

His dark eyes suggested revenge.

“Your message is clear,” he said as he patted his pocket. “You think I’m a fool.”

“I don’t think of you at all,” Louise scoffed.

“Liar.”

Sniffing at his accusation, she turned away from him and tried in vain to stare out of the window.

There would be fireworks soon. He should be there for the celebration.

She decided in that moment to give up the chase in favor of answers.

“Have you told them yet?” Louise questioned in a low voice. “That you caught the one with the rabbit hood?”

“There wasn’t a need,” Logan asserted, puffing his chest either at her admission or his own prowess. “My trap was a success. Word reached the court before I had even returned home.”

As she turned back, she rolled her neck to communicate indifference. “I was under the impression that once the dastardly bandit was caught that there would be celebrations. Is your act of valor not truly as grand as you say?”

“There is a feast in my honor, happening at this very moment.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. This wasn’t a part of the plan. If she was ever to be captured, there would be a feast during her first night in prison. Stores had been prepared for months. All of the nobility would converge over wine. It gave them the perfect opportunity.

But a noble was staring her in the face.

“You’re missing your own party to rub elbows with a criminal?”

“It’d be a shame,” he said, taking a step further into the room, “if all your secrets were to die with you tomorrow. Like how you snuck into the castle or your channels of distribution. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

“You’re asking for something that goes against my creed,” she huffed. “You’ve a better chance of convincing me to beg for my life, and even that is not high. Why not get your gloating out and be on your way? I’ll help.” Louise pitched her voice in a mocking imitation of a frail woman. “Oh, how you’ve bested me so!“

Without a hand to her forehead, the image didn’t quite meet expectations, but the chains around her wrists offered little mobility, and she wouldn’t twist her body in front of him for the sake of a jab.

“Perhaps another route…” Logan squinted at her before a smirk grew. “You might not bend so easily, but what of your compatriots? Do you think if I offered your freedom, they wouldn’t give themselves away?”

Those honorable fools… They’d take the bait in a heartbeat.

“They know better,” she said with a grunt.

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“Even the blacksmith’s daughter?” Logan’s words sliced the air between them. How did-

She went back for Jess, but so must have Logan.

“She won’t be joining you tonight,” he continued. “I plan on keeping you to myself. But if we were to find her tomorrow, what do you think she would give up?”

It was a foolish idea, and as soon as it entered her mind she wished she could banish it.

But if she kept him here, revealing useless information and plans he had no power to stop, maybe that would satisfy him.

Even if he was supposed to be among those lost.

“Prince James is being poisoned as we speak,” she said quietly, but it echoed around them regardless.

Logan stilled, observing her under a keen eye. He seemed less shocked than she would have liked.

“And what of his three sons?”

“To be left alive.”

“His advisor?”

“Alive.”

“Myself?”

Louise clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and asked, “What good is doing away with a cruel prince if another may take his place?”

“I see. So with my uncle dead and father not returned, James the Second would become prince regent.” He sniffed but didn’t seem nearly as invested as one would be talking about their own demise. “You would likely receive a pardon. Taxes forgiven. The excess in the stores would be distributed to the poor. Production rises in the community.” 

He had read her letters.

Under his gaze, Louise did not squirm.

“You have a vested interest in keeping me here then,” Logan said in a hushed tone. “Otherwise I may run off and warn Prince James?”

It was a small kingdom, but she found it hard to believe they had run into each other enough for him to know her this well.

“You only remain here to halt your own execution,” she said, playing as though she wanted him to join the dead.

“Yes. That is why…”

He trailed off.

Eyeing the door then the rest of the cell, he studied their surroundings. Or perhaps stalled his next thought. The only thing of interest in the stark room was chained at his feet, after all.

As another minute passed, Louise wondered if he really did have a thing for stonework.

He corrected her swiftly with his next barrage of questions, intensity growing after each one.

“What do you think you’ll do when we return to a kingdom of peace? Once all of Prince James’ acts are undone? Do you think you’ll accept a quiet life when my father returns?”

“IF the good King Thomas returns,” she said with a bite. “You know what happens in war, don’t you?”

His frown deepened, eyes disappearing under a brow that promised revenge.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Neither do you.”

“Of course I do.”

“Explain it then.”

Standing ramrod straight, Logan’s eyes burned as the dangerous idea, sparked from when he stood quiet, became its own blaze.

He inhaled deep, stepping forward so that he was right in front of her, and removed his heavy gloves. They hit the ground with a dull thud, leather against stone.

He sank to her level, but she did not back down from the heat of his gaze.

“I know what you’re after,” he said like he was letting her in on a secret.

“Justice?”

“No. It’s the same story from you and every other criminal. You’re searching for a high.” He leaned in closer. “And I can give it to you.”

His hand drifted south, feeling her, a slow and greedy movement. She didn’t speak, even as her thighs twitched apart seemingly of their own accord.

Warnings flitted across her mind that this was her enemy. But if she let him continue, he would not stop James’ poisoning. Distraction came in many forms after all, and she hadn’t planned on this being a method she would ever use but not one she entirely disregarded. Would it be so wrong if she enjoyed herself too?

“I can give you what you need.”

Her breath hitched. Her blood raced. She knew this feeling.

And she liked it.

4. Haunted Grouse

Logan floated through the wall and hung over Louise, who hunched at her desk and typed away.

“What are you doing?”

She never jumped at the sound of his voice, and it only slightly annoyed him that he couldn’t scare her properly. Louise turned upwards to glare at him.

“Working from home. In my home. That’s mine.”

“Was my home first,” he sighed, reiterating the same argument they had been having for the past two months.

“Yeah well ghosts can’t own property, so…” Louise didn’t bother finishing the sentence, already back to typing at her keyboard.

Considering his growing list of powers, Logan thought to mess with her computer. He couldn’t type just yet, but he could make the screen flicker and sometimes go to sleep.

Or, he could do one of his other favorite things.

Vanishing his hands, Logan waited.

It took a few seconds, but her face pinched as a shiver ran through her.

“Stop making my tits cold!” Louise growled, but Logan didn’t pull his hands back from her pebbling nipples.

Though he practiced more than she wanted, he could still barely touch her. She described the sensation once like a cold electricity but too dull to shock. Perfect for temperature play and getting her attention. Veeerrryy useless in getting her to stay in one place.

With a huff, Louise grabbed a nearby hoodie and tossed it on, cutting off his view of the peep show despite his protests.

“Come onnn,” Logan whined. “I’m boreddd. Give me something.”

“No. I’m dating someone, a live human man. I’m not just going to sit around while you fondle me.”

He tsked, hating the reminder of the other house’s occupant.

They had been planning on just being roommates, unable to afford a house under just one of their names, but Rudy wore her down. At least that was how Logan saw it happen after they moved in.

“And where is he? If he’s suuuch a good boyfriend, he should be in here turning you on.”

“He’s working downstairs on- you know what actually,” Louise interrupted herself and shooed him. Her hand phased right through his body, and he only raised a cocky eyebrow in return until she finished her point. “Why don’t you go and haunt him for a change? That way I can actually finish something.”

Usually, he would take the moment to brag about how he could touch her but she couldn’t touch him. It was a source of contention, and all her research into those ridiculous rune circles and wards had been a bust so far.

Instead, he turned and floated on his back in the space above her, letting his leg hang off like he was in an invisible hammock.

“Rudy’s no fun to haunt,” he said, tucking his hands behind his head. He couldn’t actually feel comfort or discomfort based on how he was positioned in the air, but old habits and all that. “He doesn’t know I’m there and keeps blaming everything on it being an old house. Which,” he gave a look, “not a great sign that he still doesn’t believe you that I exist.”

“For all I know, you don’t exist, and I’m imagining everything,” she said, taking a break from her computer and eyeing him. “Wait. So you DO try to haunt Rudy?”

Logan’s lips pursed, and he hummed.

They’re in the living room together, and unbeknownst to Rudy they’re having an argument.

"You have the WORST taste in music that's why I keep turning it off,” Logan yells, phasing his hand through the record player again so the electric frequencies interact and shut off the godforsaken bluegrass. “NO the player isn't on the fritz, oh my god."

They’re in the bathroom, and unbeknownst to Rudy there’s a guest in his shower.

"Hey, that's a respectable, regular size,” Logan says, mocking even though he’s aware that his words will go unheard. “And you know what I bet it's a little cold in here too, so good for you."

They’re in the garage, and unbeknownst to Rudy, Logan makes a claim.

"I'm going to fuck your girlfriend by the way." He’s going to figure out the mechanics of how to do that eventually. Logan shrugs and readjusts in his seat on top of the freezer while Rudy searches through shelves of crap.

“Louise??”  

Logan jerks his head back in shock and thinks for a second they’re actually communicating, but no. Rudy is calling for his girlfriend.

“Do you know where the beach stuff is?”  

“In the box labeled beach stuff!” Louise calls back from inside.

“But where is the box?”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Scoffing, Logan kicks the box Rudy can’t see, his foot phasing straight through it.

“See? You keep letting her mother you like this.” He whispers the rest, already knowing Louise is on her way. “She’s practically going to be begging for me.”

Logan blinked back into the present. He peered down at Louise’s curious expression and shrugged.

“Sometimes.”

Unbeknownst to Louise, he would haunt Rudy until he figured out how to get rid of the man entirely.

5. The Parent Crap

Having a daughter wasn’t in the plan, but Louise never planned that far ahead. She had big ideas, and she jumped from one to the next, accomplishing what she wanted then moving on. Except she couldn’t exactly move on from a kid.

It was a one night stand. She left town the next day, thinking she would abandon that memory and the person involved as easily as she fell into bed with him.

Then Marceline was born.

Traveling for work became a lot harder, but she was Louise. If anyone was gonna figure out how to balance national consultation and childcare, it was her.

Linda didn’t exactly love the idea of one of her grandbabies being raised out of hotel rooms though, so they struck up a deal. Louise would take a month off once a year and stay in what used to be Tina’s room, Marcy along with her.

Every time her parents spotted the bags under her eyes or a new gray hair, they tried (in their version of subtlety) to extend the offer for her to stay with them longer.

It wasn’t like she wasn’t doing well. Louise was one of the highest paid members of her team. She was just… tired. And stubborn.

But she knew a good opportunity too, so if Bob and Linda wanted to watch Marcy run around the restaurant while she did some freelance work in a booth, so be it.

After all her years working down here, Louise looked up on instinct when the bell above the door jingled with someone’s arrival.

If there was a devil, he’d look like Logan Bush, standing in the doorway, struck mute just by the sight of her.

If there was a god, he’d keep Marcy in the basement with Linda a little while longer.

“You’re back,” Logan said finally, as though it had only been a few days since they last saw each other instead of literal years.

“You eat here?” Louise asked incredulously.

On the one hand, it made for a great conversation change and could play off her shock. On the other hand, she really would have expected him to grow into Cynthia’s more expensive tastes by now.

“I’m… picking it up for me and my partner,” he replied slowly like casual conversation was foreign to his tongue.

Her eyebrows shot up and her heart finally stopped beating in her throat. “Partner, huh? Wouldn’t have pegged you for the type.” 

Logan scoffed, releasing his hold on the door to stop letting out the cold air.

“Not like that. He’s a business partner.”

He explained in as few words as possible that they worked nearby, and the guy was crazy about Bob’s Burgers. Logan, still new to the firm, found himself relegated to food runner more often than not.

Louise meant to brush him off and return to her work, let him pick up his order and go without fuss, but was interrupted.

Normally, the sound of her child’s voice yelling as she barreled into Louise’s side wouldn’t even get a blink out of her. She was embarrassed to say that she flinched at Marcy making herself known in front of the one person she had no intentions of letting spot her.

“MOM.” Marcy finished her sprint and climbed into the booth, already out of breath. “Gramma, she- I got a cookie from Gramma,” she held up a cookie as proof, “and I know I didn’t eat my sandwich but I need to eat the cookie ‘cause- because I already licked it.”

“You can have it before your sandwich,” Louise reassured her. “But eat the sandwich when you feel hungry, got it?”

Marcy pumped her tiny fist and crammed as much of the baked good into her mouth as she could, even with Louise telling her to slow down. She thankfully only managed to get a bite and a half before it became a choking hazard.

“You have a kid?”

Louise had already forgotten Logan was there, but he was oh so kind to remind her. She put on a fake smile and clapped her hands.

“Very good! Marcy, do you want to share your cookie with Logan for being such a smart boy?”

She finished the last part of her sentence in baby talk directed at him, which he did not appreciate given his furrowing brow and hint of a glare.

“Um, I… uh…” Marceline looked down at the rest of her treat, then slowly held it up to Logan to share.

Her daughter had a good heart, and Louise had no idea where she got it from.

“No thanks,” Logan said. “You already licked it.” Marceline breathed a too loud sigh of relief then took another bite of her cookie. Logan’s lip hinted at a smile. “That was very nice of you.”

“‘ank oo,” Marcy said through her mouthful.

“How old are you, Marcy?”

It was a polite question every adult asked when they weren’t sure how to have a conversation with a toddler. Logan likely didn’t mean it as anything more—she hadn’t seen any suspicion on him—but he wasn’t incapable of figuring it out if he had clues.

Marceline shoved the rest of the cookie into her mouth, then looked at her hands and held up all ten fingers. Louise saw it as an opportunity.

If anyone asked Louise, her daughter was the smartest, most capable five-year-old she ever met. If she was being tortured, then she might admit that Marcy struggled with numbers.

“No, remember, you’re four.” Louise reached over and put down six of her fingers. If Logan tried to do the math, he would be a year off.

Guilt clawed at her stomach but she reminded herself that Marcy would likely forget her own age again later, and Louise would correct the wrongdoing then. Besides, it wasn’t like she would see Logan much beyond this one-off instance.

Marceline had already lost interest in the conversation with her cookie gone, so she waved at them both then took off.

“Huh,” Logan said, refocusing on Louise. “I never would have guessed you’d be the white picket fence type.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, two and a half kids, married, house on a hill, all that.”

“Oh.” Louise shrugged and typed aimlessly on her laptop. Random words like fuck, shit, bitch, and cunt, then erased those just as fast. “I’m not.”

“What?”

“I have A kid. The rest? Not so much.”

“Oh. OH.” Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “The dad ran out on you?”

Louise didn’t bother answering this question. She wasn’t sure she could come up with a good enough lie anyway, and instead crossed her arms and glowered.

“I meant that- because if someone tried, you would hunt them-” Logan tossed a bill on the counter and grabbed the to-go bag Bob or Linda must have left for him. “I’m gonna go before I stick my foot further into my mouth.”

“You do that.”

After he ran out with his tail between his legs, Bob came around to explain that he was a regular, and that she would probably see him again.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Louise huffed.

For the rest of her trip, Louise vowed to keep Marceline up in the apartment around lunchtime. But a month was a long time, and unfortunately her daughter inherited every last bit of her stubborn determination.

She broke on day four when Marcy demanded to see Bob.

“He promised to let me make a burger! I want to make a burger!”

Louise didn’t think it would be that risky, the lunch rush would be winding down about now, and after the twenty-second ask she realized no screentime would be enough to distract Marcy from her new goal of being a chef.

Of course, that meant Logan was sitting at the counter when they walked in.

She almost groaned, almost turned them around to sneak back, but Marceline yelled into the restaurant.

“Grampa! I’m ready to be the best chef in all of the world!” She pointed at a customer in booth two. “You can try the food and say nice things.” She pointed at Logan. “You can try the food and say bad things, but only for pretend.”

“He’ll be great at that,” Louise said but Marceline had already run back to the kitchen.

Swiveling around on his stool to greet her, Logan laid his elbow on the counter and leaned back with a question. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been back in town in ages,” Louise replied, rolling her eyes. “I see you once randomly, and now you think I’m planning my day around you?” Yes. “Get your food and go.”

She moved to sit at the first booth, but he slid in across from her as though he had teleported.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said over the sound of her shuffling her bag onto the tabletop. “I didn’t know what to say and ended up going with the worst possible thing.”

While she wanted to pretend parenthood hadn’t changed her, it did unfortunately make it a lot harder to care about the unimportant stuff. Sometimes people slipped up when they spoke. It didn’t mean she had to hold a grudge about it forever. Sometimes.

Louise sighed. “It wasn’t THE worst thing. You could have made an alien baby joke.”

“Or...” he waited to see if she would tell him not to, but she waved him on. “I could have said you killed the guy and are on the run?”

She snorted at that. “I would have taken that as a compliment. That’s a long time to get away with murder.”

“Fair,” he said, then scratched the back of his neck. For a moment, it seemed like he was studying her but that disappeared so quickly Louise was sure she imagined it. “If you don’t mind me asking, and it’s okay to tell me to uh... F-U-C-K off, what... DID happen?”

Thankfully she was prepared this time.

“He’s not in the picture. Nothing bad, just...” She pretended to think over her word choice. “Not involved. Marcy still doesn’t know him, and she’s not asking questions yet. We’d like to keep it that way for the time being,” she said pointedly.

“Got it. No dad talk.”

“Thank you.”

Crisis. Averted.

While she assumed he only spoke with her to fix his reputation and maybe repair some of his ego, that didn’t seem to be the case. To her surprise, he stayed to catch up with her. He avoided asking questions about Marcy, and Louise didn’t offer up any information on her own.

It didn’t take long before they were arguing again over something stupid. He thought ketchup should be poured over the basket of fries instead of in a dipping corner, and Louise thought that meant he was raised in a barn.

A loud and clearly targeted throat clearing broke them from their banter.

Bob was holding open the swinging door to the kitchen and pointed with his eyes downward.

Walking slower than she ever had before, Marcy took each step like it might be her last as she balanced a burger on a plate. Her hands shook slightly from the weight of it or from the responsibility of treating something so carefully.

Louise held her breath until her daughter brandished the plate in front of her.

“I-” Marcy grunted, and Louise subtly held a side of the plate so it was more balanced. Relieved, she finished proudly. “I made this for you.”

Following behind her just a few steps, Bob clarified.

“Well,” he said. “I made it, because grills and knives are dangerous, but she did- she did put the bun on top.”

She gave a look to her old man as she took the plate. Staring at it in awe, she asked Marcy.

“You put the bun on here?”

Putting her hands behind her back and leaning forward, Marcy shifted her weight between her legs and struggled to make eye contact. “Yeah I did.”

“This is the best bun placement I have ever seen,” Louise said, spinning the burger and appreciating it from all sides. “You got it perfectly in the center. Grampa’s been doing this for a hundred years, and he’s still sloppy with his buns.”

“Hey.”

“But this?” Louise, ignoring Bob’s protest, nodded solemnly. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”

Still pretty embarrassed, Marcy could only giggle and run away as fast as her little legs could take her with Bob hurrying to catch up before she really did try to become a chef.

“You’re pretty good at the mom thing,” Logan said. He shifted on his side of the booth, glancing down at the unnecessary menu in front of him.

“You’re not around for all of it. I’m awesome most of the time, but... it’s not easy.”

“No kidding.”

“Oh yeah?” She took a bite of the burger and, with her mouth full, pointed at Logan with her chin. “How ‘bout you tell me alllll your experiences as a single mom?”

They chuckled together, but he did take the opportunity to tell her more about what was going on in his life. Talking to someone about something other than Sesame Street was kind of nice.

-

She stopped avoiding the restaurant at lunchtime. It hit that Bob really meant it, Logan came by often. Not every day, but most days she found him sitting across from her while she worked on her freelancing.

They hadn’t had any more hiccups until Tina brought her own kids in for a visit. The cousins played around the tables, reminding the moms too much of themselves when they were that little. The nostalgia was short-lived before it was time for Mom Business.

“Do you want to take some of the twins’ toys? They’ve grown out of the hobby horse and a couple other things, and they’re a little beat up, but…” Blinking, Tina suddenly rushed to correct herself. “Not for Marcy’s birthday or anything. We would get her something brand new then.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Louise checked to see if Logan had heard the detail about Marcy’s birthday. She had led him to believe it wouldn’t be for a while, but why would Tina bring it up randomly?

He continued to eat his fries, likely not having heard the exchange at all over the sound of his obnoxiously loud chewing, and Louise internally thanked God, Santa, and the Easter Bunny.

-

For two weeks, Louise lived in peace.

Marcy was happy, she was happy, the family was happy.

As per Belcher tradition, the quiet life never lasted for too long.

Especially not when Marcy had decided she would be putting on a one-woman musical for the restaurant where she would be showcasing her… talents. She had been drawing flyers all morning and excitedly passed out her scribbled pieces of paper to all of the customers in the restaurant, including Logan.

He took it and went to say something, but she had already run off to give a flyer to someone else.

“Yeah something they don’t warn you about,” Louise chuckled. “Sometimes the kid doesn’t take after the mom or dad. Sometimes... they take after their uncle.” She winced as Marceline burst into a song she wrote herself. Shrugging it off, she finished with, “Just a little advice if you ever decide to have kids.”

Logan stilled. It took him a few moments to find the words, then questioned her slowly.

“Are we still doing this?”

“Doing what?” Louise asked, popping a fry into her mouth and cocking her head.

“Louise. How stupid do you think I am?”

Snorting, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and checked on Marcy, who had stopped singing and started dancing with Linda.

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” She joked.

“I’m serious.” He crossed his arms and leaned forward, asking her in a low voice. “Are we still pretending like I don’t know?”

Time froze.

Or maybe it was just her. Her blood stopped flowing and breath wouldn’t leave her lungs. She didn’t even know how to blink, and they stared at each other like a deer in headlights and the Jaguar that hit it.

“Meaning?” Louise asked, throat dry.

“Oh come on. Yeah she has your coloring, but look at her nose. Her-” he gestured to his own face, “Bone structure or whatever you call it.”

She turned to look at her daughter if only to give herself time. Logan didn’t bother letting her have an extra second or two to piece it together.

“That’s my kid.”

Whipping around, she bit back, “She’s not your anything.”

“You’re seriously still lying to me?” He sighed. Fishing out his phone, he unlocked it and hit a few buttons before sliding it over to her. On the screen was a baby picture of him. He might have had blond hair instead of Marcy’s black, but he was right. Her eyes and nose were a dead ringer for his.

She didn’t say anything, silently passing the phone back to him.

“I don’t know why I’m even surprised. I should have figured you’d be like this after you lied about her age.”

Ah. It clicked that he really did know. Louise stared at a spot on the table.

“Who told you?”

She didn’t recognize her voice, too quiet and shocked to be her own.

“Teddy.” Logan pocketed his phone and halfway laughed without humor. “Wanted to know if a nail gun was an appropriate gift for someone turning six.”

“Of course.” She swallowed, and it felt like nails. “Does Cynthia know?”

“No,” he said before she even finished the question. “Do Bob and Linda?”

Thinking back, she shrugged, shoulders moving up and down robotically. “Dunno. I never told them, but I think Dad’s pieced it together from you being in the same room as her too long. Mom…” Louise took a break from her world being turned upside down to snort. “She’s slower to pick up on things. If you tell her though, she’ll say she always knew.”

He shared that second of humor with her, exhaling through his nose in a puff, but the air of solemnity descended on them right after.

“Now things change,” he said, eyes squinting. “See, I thought we were playing a fun little game where we wait for the right time to talk things out, get dinner somewhere other than a burger joint.” His voice got higher with his next statement. “But apparently, you were never planning to tell me?”

“I… no. I wasn’t. There’s still a chance that she’s not.”

There was no chance, but he didn’t have proof.

“I could petition for a paternity test.”

Well. Proof.

“That would take time,” Louise countered. “And by the time you do we’ll already have moved on.”

“You want me to get lawyers involved?”

“You’re bluffing.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I am.” Rolling his neck, he stared at the table in one hard glare. “Look, I already did the being shocked thing and the anger part and a little bit of grieving what I’ve missed.”

“Bullshit.”

“I did.” His voice softened. “Sure I don’t know her that well yet, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have wanted to, you know, hear her first word or something.” He looked off into the distance. “Point is, I can be rational. I would like to be in her life, and I’m willing to work out a compromise with you.”

“And if I don’t want to compromise?”

“Then I start thinking about legal action.”

Louise felt her blood freeze then slammed her hand on the table.

“If you even THINK about-”

“Mom?”

Louise turned and saw her baby standing there confused. Shame poured over her like a bucket of water knowing that Marcy had caught her losing her temper. Louise had always been a hothead, but she kept it under control around her kid. She unfurled her fist and scooted to the side of the booth and faced her.

“Yes, Marceline?”

“What’s ... why are...” Marcy’s face contorted. Louise recognized it as the face she did when she didn’t know the words she actually wanted to ask. Louise couldn’t help but feel pity for all toddlers. They had so many questions without the experience to voice them.

But her daughter was smart. She huffed a little at her own confusion but climbed into the booth. Standing, she made eye contact then pointed at Louise’s still bouncing leg.

“Why?”

Knowing she couldn’t give any details to their actual conversation, Louise floundered.

“You know- it’s sort of, it’s sort of like when you feel a lot of things, and your body has nowhere to put those things.”

“Oh.” Marcy nodded knowingly without truly understanding. “Are you,” she balled her fists and stomped her foot to illustrate the point, “angry?”

Louise went to answer yes, but that didn’t feel quite right. Even though she lashed out, she didn’t recognize anger within her at the moment.

“No, not really.” Her answer surprised herself and Logan, who perked up out of the corner of her eye.

“Are you…” Marceline held herself tight and shook back and forth to mimic shivering. “Scared?”

There was a beat, Louise sucking her lips in between her teeth in discomfort. But she answered honestly because if her daughter needed to trust anyone it was her.

“Yes. I’m scared.”

Immediately, Marcy threw her arms around Louise’s head and stroked her hair. Louise tried not to wince when strands were pulled too tight.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Marcy said, mimicking a comforting tone as best she could. “It’s okay to be scared, but don’t worry.” She patted Louise’s head. “I am very strong. I have big muscles to protect you from bad guys.”

“You do?”

“Yes, look.” She unlatched from Louise’s head then punched the air in front of her repeatedly in a tiny blur. “AND I can kick really good, but Grampa told me to stop kicking in the restaurant so I will show you later.”

“Did you kick Grampa?”

“It wasn’t on purpose! When he was there but not- and I said karate. I SAID karate.” Her arms flung around wildly as she tried to explain herself. “There was a door. The ground went swoosh and then we- but Gramma said- she’s- I’m a good girl!”

“Sounds like it was an accident.” She patted her daughter on the back. “No worries, Grampa will be fine. He’s tougher than he looks.”

Wordlessly, Louise held up her water cup for Marceline to drink from, and she did before letting out an exaggerated aahhh.

“You know,” Logan said for the first time since Marcy appeared. “I’m pretty strong too. If you need back up, I’m your guy.”

Marceline squinted at him.

“You don’t LOOK very strong.”

Louise snickered, though weary of his intentions.

“Ohhh yeah,” he said. He closed his eyes and bragged. “I’ve taken out tooons of monsters.”

Popping open one eye, he found Marcy considering him with pursed lips.

“How… many monsters exactly?”

“Like...” Logan held out ten fingers and wiggled them. “This many.”

“Oh.” She nodded seriously. “That is a lot. That’s more than you, Mommy.”

“Yeah,” Louise interjected. “But some of those monsters weren’t big at all. Ask him about the pink bunny.”

Marceline gasped. “Did you hurt a bunny? But bunnies are so cute!”

“Hey, sometimes little pink bunnies are scary.” He looked at Louise, managing to convey his second meaning. “But that wasn’t one of the monsters.”

He wasn’t mad at her for lying.

“No?” Louise asked.

I’d still be pissed if I was you.

“No.” Logan reiterated then focused back on Marceline. “So what do you think?”

Marcy clasped her hands together, shifted and scratched her head, wiggling and humming as she thought.

Finally, with a nod, she said “The board is happy with your qualifations. You’re hired.”

“Qualifications,” Louise corrected.

“Qualications.”

“Qual-IF-i-cations.”

“Qual-IF-i-tations.”

“You got it,” Louise said, ruffling her hair. “Now go show off the new word to Gramma.”

Marceline leapt out of the booth to find Linda without another word.

“I promise to be flexible,” Logan said, returning to their previous conversation. “But I at least want to talk about it.”

It was her turn now to consider him. He had been fine up until this point, patient, even while having an inkling of the truth she was keeping from him. It still scared her shitless, the idea of change and of possibility, but she had already come this far. She decided she would be open to it.

“Okay. We can talk.” Louise tapped at the tabletop, peering over at Marcy in the distance. Her lips quirked. “Her first word was dama.” At his confusion, she clarified. “Which doesn’t seem like a word until you realize it’s a baby trying to say damn.”

He laughed, and she felt some relief at the sound.

“So,” Logan readjusted in his seat. “Next order of business: You named our child after a cartoon vampire?”

With sleep tousled hair and only wearing his boxers, Logan nudges open the door to her home office so that it swings slowly and creaks to grab her attention.

She imagines his eyes would be bleary too if he opened them.

He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, glaring without seeing her.

“Mmm.”

“Go back to bed,” she says as she peers at the corner of her computer screen. “It’s nearly two.”

“Mmmgh.”

Louise rolls her eyes, leans back in her rolling chair, and mirrors him by crossing her arms. Not that he can see the similarities.

“I have to finish this to help the restaurant.” She sniffs at the stack in front of her like it might bite but bares her teeth so it knows she’ll bite back. “As soon as this mess of paperwork Fischoeder left behind is cleared up, I’ll come in.”

“Mmmf hhmm mm.”

“That was yesterday’s paperwork. This is today’s.”

“Gmmghh.”

“Yeah well,” Louise shrugs, “some of us care about what happens to the old dump, so…”

Finally opening his eyes, they’re just as hazy as she imagined and blinking slowly at her.

“I care,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep.

As she drops her defensive stance, she leans forward to pick up a pen and finish a signature.

“I know,” she replies quietly. In the dead of night, she can be sincere.

“But my number one priority is getting your ass into bed.”

The moment passes, and she aggressively flips a page to signal that it's fully gone.

He stays there for a while and watches her work. It’s distracting. If she looks up, she will see her disturbingly hot boyfriend practically begging her to sleep in a comfy bed with him, which she wants but can’t have right now. Avoiding eye contact doesn’t completely dull his presence though, thrumming through the room like a steady heartbeat.

“I had a weird dream,” he says to break up the monotony of pen scratching and paper turning.

“Mmm,” she says, her turn to hum.

“A couple of ‘em actually. They were all about you and me.”

“Dirty?”

“Kinda.”

“Keep it to yourself, pervert,” she mumbles.

He has the good grace not to mention the time she woke up from her own dirty dream and nearly attacked him. Or he might not be awake enough to remember. Probably the latter, given how wistful he sounded.

“It was a bunch of different worlds,” he continues. “And we were always together.”

“You had a romantic dream?”

“We weren’t… together together. In some of them we hated each other again.” He looks at the ground and seems to lose himself in the carpet pattern. “Always obsessed though.”

“And that’s how you know it’s just a dream.”

“Mmm… no.”

He pads further into the room, a slow amble until he’s lazily drawing lines with his finger along her desk. Inching closer, he sighs.

Louise finally looks up, and she wishes she hadn’t. It crosses her mind like a flash that she wants to kiss him, but the thought doesn’t fade. It warms her as she notices the expanse of his chest and the slight smirk that always made him look a little mischievous.

“I like that you’re obsessed with me,” he says. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

A quick “in your dreams” is at the tip of her tongue, but it seems redundant and like not as good of a comeback as she usually has. Maybe she does need a nap… just to refresh her insults.

“You’re the one hovering over me. That’s obsessive.”

Logan hums his agreement.

If the roles were reversed, she would be doing the same thing. She would be way more successful at getting him to drop what he was doing, but she admits internally that she would have a humiliating pout on display.

Using the arms of her rolling chair, he pushes her to face him fully.

“The thing is, even though you were in all the little universes, they weren’t you.” His eyes fall half-lidded and trail down her pajama-clad form. “I miss the real thing.”

Quiet settles over them again.

But it’s in his nature to break it.

“Would you-”

“I wouldn’t love you if you were a worm.”

“Well fine, then I wouldn’t love you either,” he huffs. “But since you’re not a worm, come to bed.”

“It’s not-”

Louise never finishes her sentence, Logan scooping her up. Her protests, already tinged with doubt, fall on deaf ears as he demands she join him in dreamland.