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A Solstice to Remember

Summary:

After an unfortunate run-in with eggnog, Lucy refreshes Logan's memory.

Part of the Tumblr 12 Days of Christmas Challenge

Day 1 Prompt: Blackout

Work Text:

Poker night at Owen's house was always a fun time. Owen, Justice, Unsuur, and Logan sitting around playing for small pots and nibbling on the delicious snacks Owen provided was one of the highlights of Logan's month. Unsuur left to walk the evening patrol and the remaining three packed up the poker table.

"You off soon also, Lo?" Owen asked as they worked.

"Not tonight, boys. Janie and Krys took the kids to Portia for a couple of days on a field trip so I'm free for a few nights."

"Well, then, how about you two help me with something? Grace and I have spent the past couple of days whipping up new eggnog recipes for the Solstice Celebration and I could use some fresh taste testers. Whaddya say?"

"Mmm, eggnog. Count me in!" Justice was practically licking his lips.

"Yeah, sure, sounds good to me, too!"

Two hours later, Logan stumbled out of Owen's house, his belly full of eggnog and crackers, Justice and Owen trailing behind him.

"Night, fellers! See ya 'morrow." Logan wobbled his way off the porch and towards the stairs.

"You don't look too steady, Lo. Maybe you should let me walk ya home?"

"Mmmalright."

Justice and Owen watched Logan stop and contemplate the stairs between Owen's house and the Blue Moon Saloon, stairs that led up to Logan's home, then turn and stumble further down Main Street and past the saloon.

"Where's he going?" Owen was curious, there wasn't much down that way except the train station, Lucy's house and builder workshop, and Eufaula Salvage, all closed for the night.

"How much alcohol was in those eggnogs? They didn't taste strong but I'm feeling pretty tipsy right now and he looks absolutely pissed."

"I had one each of bourbon, whiskey, rum, and brandy, the rest were some combination of those four. They were all pretty strong even if they didn't taste it, that was kind of the point." He caught sight of Justice's face. "What?"

"You know he's a featherweight despite his bulk, never drinks more than a beer or two and always, always keeps his wits about him. You remember what happened with his pa when he was a kid, he's always swore he'd never do that. You probably should have warned him, he hit those nogs a lot harder than I did. He's gonna be mad tomorrow."

The men watched Logan stumble across the train tracks.

"At least the train isn't running this time of night," Owen's voice had a forced cheer to it, "no need to worry about one hitting him."

"Maybe not," Justice couldn't keep the laughter from his voice as they watched Logan knock on Lucy's door, "but that don't mean a train wreck ain't happenin' anyway. I'll come by tomorrow and haul you off to Fang's after he gets done with ya. If he blows his chance with Lucy tonight, well, I'll say somethin' nice at your funeral."

Justice patted Owen on the shoulder and headed home, his chuckles lingering behind his retreating figure.

"Thanks, J, you're a real pal." Owen shook his head and headed back into his house, wondering exactly how badly Logan was going to hurt him tomorrow.


Logan's eyes fluttered open and he squinted in irritation at the sunlight hitting him in the face, promptly squeezing his eyes shut against it. His head felt off, like it was stuffed full of wool, and his mouth tasted foul. His body also felt strangely heavy and he wondered if he'd gotten hurt, he couldn't remember much after settling in Owen's kitchen to sample eggnogs.

He shifted and a mewl of complaint had him freezing as something moved on top of him. He cracked his eyes open, braving the sunlight, and was met with a familiar pair of amused green eyes.

"Morning, yakboy!" Lucy chirped with an amused grin from her position laying on top of him.

Logan took a moment to take in his surroundings. He was laying in Lucy's living room, apparently on her couch, with his arms wrapped firmly around her body, trapping her in place.

"Wha," he croaked, his throat dry , his tongue feeling too thick for his mouth. He paused, swallowed and tried again. "What am I doin' here? How'd I even get here? Last I remember was bein' at Owen's house for poker night."

Lucy's face scrunched up in distaste and her hand flew up to cover her nose and mouth. She scrambled off of him and took a step back before removing her hand. His eyes were transfixed by the sight of her in her flannel pajamas. She looked soft and warm and he wanted to pull her back into his arms and savor the feel of cuddling her close.

"First things first, then I'll tell you all I know. There's a new toothbrush in the drawer of the guest bathroom. Use it. Please. Get yourself situated, then meet me in the kitchen."

She headed into the kitchen herself and he listened to her shuffling around while he pulled himself together.

First, he recovered from his mortification at her reaction to his clearly rancid breath. Once his embarrassment began to fade, he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, pausing a couple of times as his stomach threatened to revolt. When he finally felt confident enough to stand without casting the contents of his stomach up on Lucy's rug, he gained his feet and walked unsteadily towards the bathroom.

After brushing his teeth, emptying his bladder, and utilizing a washrag on his face and neck, he felt much more human. He pulled his shirt collar out and gave his pits a quick sniff, reassuring himself the pit putty Haru made for him was still working.

He scrutinized his reflection. His hair was all over the place and he ran his hand through it a few times in a futile attempt to straighten it. He'd lost his hair tie sometime in the night, likely in Lucy's couch cushions. His skin was paler than normal, with a slightly sickly cast to it, and his eyes had bruising underneath. He could feel a headache working hard to bloom behind his eyes.

Exiting the bathroom, he bee-lined to the kitchen, raising a hand to shade his eyes as he passed by the high windows allowing the sunlight to enter and brighten the place.

The kitchen was empty when he entered, but a tall glass of water and two pain pills sat on the table and something was cooking over low heat on the stove. Logan flopped down in a chair and gratefully tossed the pills in his mouth, washing them down with the entire glass of water.

The glass was removed from his hand and refilled before he realized she'd re-entered the kitchen. She'd changed into her regular clothes and combed her hair. He nursed the water, watching her as she bustled around the kitchen.

Peach, she was lovely. Prettiest woman Logan had ever met. Smart, funny, kind, good with the kids in town. Tough, too. She'd saved his bacon more than once since they met, even saved his life once. Logan was over the moon for her and too damn much of a coward to tell her.

This was a small town, after all. If she rejected him, he scoffed a little at that, when she rejected him, because she absolutely would, there would be no place for him to hide and lick his wounds. No place to recover from the heartbreak and embarrassment. He'd be forced to see her every single day, to smile and act like he wasn't dying inside, wasn't holding back a flood of emotions and yearning for her smile, her laugh, her touch.

Honestly, it didn't sound much different from how things were now. Only she would know, and it would add humiliation and rejection to the top of the nearly overwhelming feelings he currently had for her.

Nope, far better to keep things as they were and be happy with what he had. Joining her as backup on the odd ruin run, the occasional dinner out with Andy, a few dances at the saloon on Friday and Saturday nights, sparring practice on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, the times she stopped by the outpost to chat while she was out scavenging. These were enough for him…they had to be.

He watched her pull the pot off the stove and slice thick pieces of bread off a loaf, laying them on the burner to toast. His eyes greedily roamed her body as she moved, taking advantage of the moment while he could.

"Can you grab the jam and milk from the fridge?"

He startled at her request, then jumped to his feet to comply, adding butter knives for the jam and butter to the table as well.

Smiling her thanks, she placed a bowl of something bland looking and two pieces of toast in front of him, joining him a moment later with her own bowl and plate of toast.

"Burgess's mom's mush recipe. It tastes a lot better than it looks and it'll be easy on your stomach. Add a little milk and butter to it if it's too bland."

They ate in silence a few moments and the food went a long way towards easing his lingering physical ills. His mental ones, though, needed her help.

"About last night. Just after eleven there was a loud knock at my door…"

Lucy jumped a little at the loud knock on the front door and glanced at the clock, eleven-ten pm, too late for visitors. Cautiously approaching the door, she grabbed her pickhammer from the rack and peeked out the peephole, grateful she always left the porch light on at night. Her house was incredibly isolated and she lived alone. Despite being one of the strongest fighters in town, a girl couldn't be too careful.

Her heart gave a little leap of excitement when she spotted Logan standing outside the door. Peach, he was handsome, even distorted by the peephole lens. She stashed the pickhammer and opened the door.

"Logan, hi! Can I help you with something?" Her brow knit in confusion as he swayed unsteadily. "Are you injured? What happened?! Come in, let me help."

She pulled him inside, her gaze scanning his body for injuries. Nothing, just the hard, muscled, sexy yakboy that always made her feel a little lightheaded when he was around.

As he stumbled past her, his coat and hat hitting the floor, she realized the problem. The scent of alcohol hung heavy on him, making her even more confused. Logan wasn't much of a drinker, and because of that, despite his huge size he was a known lightweight. Two beers was usually his limit and he steered completely clear of hard liquors, something to do with his pa and an incident in his childhood she didn't know the details of.

She hung up his coat and hat, then watched him hop around in an attempt to remove his boots, catching him when he almost fell over. It was everything she could do to keep them upright, his massive weight nearly crushing her.

"Let's get you over to the sofa," she grunted out, guiding him to the couch and practically dropping him on it. She rushed back to the door to close and lock it, shivering against the cold wind blowing into the foyer.

Returning to the living room, she pulled Logan's boots off for him as he lay back against the couch, clearly having already forgotten about the boots himself, and stared at her face, a sloppy smile on his lips.

"You're so pretty, Luce. Prettiest girl in the world. If you'd let me, I'd wrap you up in my arms and never let go. I'd just hold ya and smell ya. You smell so damn good, did you know that? Like lavender and vanilla and sunshine. You're sunshine, Luce. My favorite ray of light." His voice was sing songy and a bit dreamy sounding, his hand ghosted down her hair.

Lucy paused and squinted at him, squashing the hope that sprang up at his words, it was just the alcohol speaking, it had to be. Men like Logan could have their pick of women, what in Peach's name would he want with a grubby little cave mouse like her?

"You're drunk. What did you do tonight? I thought it was poker night at Owen's, did that get cancelled and you decided to celebrate being Andy-free for a few days by tying one on?"

"Mmmnotdrunk," he slurred the words together.

"Right." She went to the kitchen, grabbing two pain pills and a glass of water, handing them to him on her return. Sitting on the couch beside him, she watched him swallow the pills and water. "So, what did you do tonight."

"Poker at Owen's, then me and J helped him taste test some new eggnogs for the solstice."

"New eggnogs? Were these ones Grace helped him create?" Grace had mentioned she and Owen were coming up with a new line of alcoholic eggnogs to serve on solstice. Owen typically served non-alcoholic nog, but with Grace working as the saloon mixologist, he'd decided to go more Old World traditional and add liquor into some of the offerings.

"Mmmhmm," he confirmed, staring dreamily at her.

"Oh, Lo," she shook her head, "he should have warned you there was alcohol in those. Grace said some of them were strong enough to put hair on your chest. How much did you have?"

"Lots. They were all yummy." She stifled a snicker. "No hair on my chest though. Except one white stripe from my belly button all the way down down to my…"

"Let's get you some sleep." Lucy interrupted, jumping to her feet, her face flaming as she yanked her eyes from his hand, which had been tracing the path of that strip of hair, and firmly pushing the knowledge he had a happy trail from her brain.

"Okay." Logan attempted to stand a few times but kept falling back onto the couch. Even with Lucy attempting to help him stand he couldn't manage it.

"You know what?" Lucy's patience had worn thin. "You can just sleep here. I'll be right back."

She rushed to the guest bedroom, returning a moment later with a pillow and blanket. Setting the pillow against the arm of the couch, she helped him maneuver into a semi-comfortable looking position. He was close to a foot longer than her couch but it would have to do.

Picking up the blanket, she began spreading it on him when he grabbed her and pulled her on top of him, banding his arms tightly around her, trapping her.

"Don't go, Lucy. Stay with me. Never leave me."

Logan stared at Lucy as she wrapped up the tale. His entire body was on fire with the heat of his mortification. Had he really said all that to her?

"I'm gonna kill Owen." It was all he could think to say. What else could he say? What words could possibly salvage their relationship from the verbal diarrhea that had spewed his innermost thoughts all over her last night? She knew how he felt now. His best hope was for her to dismiss it all as the ramblings of a drunkard so he could go home and die from embarrassment in peace.

"I'm sure you will. I'm not done, though."

"There's more?" No, there couldn't be more, how could it possibly get any worse?

Lucy pushed against Logan, attempting to break his hold. She couldn't stay here, couldn't sleep in his arms, couldn't allow herself to dream…to hope. Better to protect her heart.

"Logan, let me go."

"Never gonna let you go, Lucy." His words were mumbled, slightly slurred, sleep was clearly about to claim him. "You're mine. I love you. Hold you forever."

Lucy stopped struggling and lay quietly, her heart pounding. Soft snores punctuated the silence.

He didn't mean it. He couldn't mean it. He was drunk, that was all.

But she wanted him to mean it. She wanted so badly to believe he meant it.

"Drunk words, sober thoughts." The voice of her grandmother circled in her head. She'd never paid much attention to the words, not a big drinker herself. Her grandmother, though, had loved to sit at the kitchen table and gossip with the neighbor ladies. Quite a few had husbands too fond of drink and she'd sagely repeated those words of wisdom often. Could it be true? Her grandmother was a wise woman, right far more often than she was wrong.

Reaching down, she grabbed the blanket, then wriggled until she lay more comfortably atop Logan. Flipping and twitching the blanket until they were covered, she snuggled her head into him and closed her eyes. Her lips turned up into a contented smile as Logan exhaled a long, satisfied sigh and relaxed beneath her.

Logan mentally calculated how quickly he could flee the house. The back door was closer, but he'd have to go right past her. He wondered how Andy would feel living in Atara, clearly Logan could never show his face in Sandrock again.

He'd confessed???!!! He was absolutely going to murder Owen and he was positive Justice would help him bury the body after hearing this story.

"Lucy, I…I…I…," he stammered, "I don't know what to say."

"Just tell me one thing." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "Did you mean it? My grandma always said drunk words were sober thoughts. Did you say when you were drunk what you mean when you're sober?"

Logan froze. It was so tempting to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and fully confess in the harsh light of day. At least then he would know. Despite the bone deep terror at being rejected, he found he wanted to tell her. He'd never get a better opportunity.

He studied her, the observation skills that had served him so well in the desert serving him now. He observed her breathing, rapid and shallow. Her lips quivered slightly. She lifted a hand to push her hair back from her eyes and he noted the subtle tremble.

She was nervous also. He didn't know if her nerves were because she wanted him to mean it, or didn't want him to mean it, but it was time for him to take a chance either way. He swallowed hard.

"I meant it. Every word. I've meant it for a long time. I love you, Lucy. I am in love with you." He held his breath, waiting.

A smile bloomed across her face, radiant and joyful, and for the first time Logan truly understood how Peach must have felt the day the clouds parted and the first rays of sun emerged.

She jumped to her feet and shot around the table, throwing herself at him. "I love you, too."

The words were muffled against his shoulder and nearly drowned out by the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, but his heart heard them and they absorbed into his body, soothing a restlessness that had forever lived in his soul.

He scooped her into his lap and his lips found hers. The kiss wasn't perfect — it was awkward and messy and a little too wet. No, it wasn't perfect, but it was the best kiss Logan had ever had. By the time he lifted her onto the table, he realized it hadn't been the best kiss he'd ever had, the current kiss was and the next one would be, and the one after that, and the one after that. That every kiss he shared with her would be the best kiss he ever had.


The bell over the door jingled and Owen glanced up, his normal greeting dying on his lips, his skin chilling at the sight of the man walking through the saloon door: jaw set, lips compressed.

Justice swiveled on his bar stool, a grin slipping across his face.

Traitor, Owen thought. No help from that direction. Owen cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. Might as well take his beating like a man.

Wasn't too many years ago he could've taken Logan down without a second thought. Owen was older, broader, and had a good ten pounds on the other man. He was also a chef and barkeep. He ran a hotel and saloon for a living and his muscles came from weight lifting and light sparring. Logan was a monster hunter. Logan made his living tracking down and killing things that were attempting to kill him in return. His muscles were built from fighting. He was sleek and wily, truly skilled at his profession.

Owen conceded he didn't stand a chance. That didn't mean he wouldn't put up a good fight, but this was going to hurt…badly.

"Owen," Logan greeted, striding purposely up to the bar, his cold blue eyes drilling into Owen's. "You served me eggnog heavily laced with alcohol without warning. You know how I feel about drinkin'."

"I did. I'm sorry, Logan, I didn't think to warn you and I should have. I know what happened with your pa…"

"Did you watch me walk to Lucy's last night?" Logan interrupted his apology.

Owen gulped audibly, shooting a quick glance at Justice's own guilty face, then nodded.

Logan's eyes followed his to Justice and he growled deep in his throat. "You, too, J? Both of you watched me unknowingly get blackout drunk then let me just traipse off to Lucy's house, and neither of you thought to stop me?"

"Well, in our defense, you got there before either of us realized where you were goin'. Considerin' how badly you were wobblin' as you walked, you were quite zippy."

Owen wanted to slap his hand over Justice's mouth. He was a good sheriff, but his tongue was less silver and more lead.

Before Owen could apologize again, two arms slipped around Logan's waist from behind and the monster hunter melted before their eyes. He turned in the arms, his own slipping around the petite woman grinning adoringly up at him. Dropping a kiss onto her upturned lips, Logan asked her to grab a booth while he finished up.

Owen and Justice watched Logan watch Lucy head off to the dining area, a goofy love-struck expression on his face. After a moment, he spun back towards them, the goofy expression gone, replaced by a highly irritated one.

"You assholes have no idea how badly last night could have gone for me. The story Lucy told me this mornin' was…somethin' else. You two are very lucky things turned out the way they did. I won't beat the snot out of either of you this time. Don't let there be a next time." Logan turned on his heel and marched off to join Lucy.

"Sure thing, Lo. Lunch is on the house," Owen called after his retreating form, relief washing through him. He was too old to walk around town bruised and battered, it was bad for his image.

"I guess all's well that end's well. Humph, he should be thankin' us. Idiot was never gonna get out of his own way." Justice grumbled under his breath as he turned back to his lunch plate.

"Oh, stuff it, J."

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