[ It's that hour where it's both too late in the night and too early in the morning to be drinking, but this bar's never closed and Logan's left Karen to slumber in their room. Restless from his dreams, he didn't want to wake her up with his pacing. His keys are on the nightstand so she knows he won't be gone long.
A cloud of smoke hovers over the corner he's carved out. His bottle's barely touched, tells the story of a man who came here to escape the black slush outside more than to drown his sorrows. The book in his hands is bent at the spine, a bunch of poetry that reminds him of the beatnik shit. He lets the cover fall shut when Kimiko slides in next to him. ]
Just you and me, Miko. [ A one-fingered gesture at the chalkboard menu. Half the items are crossed out, but there's an eclectic mix left: waffle fries, popcorn shrimp, steak and eggs, cabbage rolls. (He doesn't think it's a real steak.) ] You want anything?
[ Through him, her order is relayed, and a few minutes later she has a hot plate of cabbage rolls and a beer to call her own. She's always hungry, generally, as a side effect of the V — but she spends a few moment pushing the cabbage rolls around on the plate before picking her phone back up.
This might end up being the worst moment of Logan's life. It's certainly not the proudest or most fun moment of hers. ]
You're a man. If you slept with someone, would you ever act like nothing happened after?
[ Silences are comfortable between them, usually, though he can tell she's got something she's fixing to say and hasn't figured out how yet.
When the phone's held his way, Logan leans over to read it with a mouthful of cigar smoke. He doesn't choke on it, but there's a. Pause. Where it almost seems like he swallowed some of that instead of exhaling.
Right. Okay. How come people are comin' to him for relationship advice? Adrian did this, too, and he's got no idea what it is about him that makes anybody think he's the guy to talk to. ]
Well, he's probably a dick, and you should find someone better.
[ That's his assessment. He doesn't have an answer for Would you ever? 'cause Logan rarely stays long enough to need to pretend nothing happened. He just leaves, which makes him a different brand of jackass (sometimes, a lot of the times), and he assumes those women also went on to find better or hell, maybe they spent their lives deliberately sleeping with guys like him for reasons of their own. Chunks of his life, the detachment was the point. It's not all he is anymore, but maybe he's still prone to taking off too quickly, too soon, without a word.
But it's been a while. Lately, he's got more important things to do than waste his days at a bar and pick up a girl he knows is gonna wake up the next morning to the rumble of his bike taking off. Like fucking time travel, apparently. And fight homicidal robots.
He lets the ash dribble casually from the tip of his cigar. ] You want me to kick his ass?
[ Probably a dick, Logan says. Thinking about her car, her money, the little fortune cookie with its demands, a butter packet slipped into a pocket — she really doesn't think that's it.
But he doesn't provide her any clarity, either. She shakes her head, no; her hair swishes lightly. ]
Do you think I did something wrong?
[ That's the trigger that makes it make sense, right? Like Butcher always said she would. ]
[ Not a one night stand thing, huh? What, does she really like this guy?
Logan frowns. He's not sure he likes it, the way she asks that, as though it might be a given. ] Hey, listen—any guy would be lucky to have you.
[ He means that. She's got a good heart. She looks after her friends. And he knows that's not something people like them just get to be after the world's done its damnedest to shape them otherwise. It's a painful sort of transformation, clawing your way back to being a person. ]
But if you really want to know what's going through his head, you gotta ask him, not me.
[ Does she like him? She wasn't supposed to. That wasn't the deal, wasn't the point. She'd been wondering for a little while about the way people in this city come together and fall apart over a single evening. Spying little walks of shame out her window, those people tired-eyed and rumpled and dragging fading warmth behind them; hearing Furiosa wander in in the early hours, a sated stretch to her spine. So she picked someone who endured her company without complaint, whose arms felt like arms and not... fragile pieces of dried linguini. And that was supposed to be that.
She fucked it up, which might not be a surprise, but— she's got her own way of talkin'.
Kimiko downs half her beer in one long, unbroken swig. There's visible frustration in the way her hands move after, some sort of restlessness she can't put a name to. A cabbage roll is eaten.
Then, after a minute or two — ]
It's actually kind of nice Having space to worry about something this stupid
[ Because she knows it's stupid, and she ought to just... let it go. But, also — ]
[ By now, Logan's accustomed to the long pauses in their conversations. He sips his beer, smokes his cigar, and orders a second bottle by the time she finally continues.
Reality is, he's no good at this shit, either. Relationships. That it's working with Karen is entirely because Karen's...Karen. God knows he hasn't done fuck all to make things easy, and even though he's trying—he is—he knows trying for him isn't always what everybody else expects.
He gets where Kimiko is coming from. It's always gonna feel like there's something broken in them. 'Cause there is. There just is. Y'know, maybe he's learning to blame himself less and less for it—and she shouldn't blame herself, either—but that doesn't change the fact that they're...different. And people like Charles or Karen, they're the rare few who don't get chased off by it. So this mystery guy of hers, Logan doesn't know. Might be the honest truth is, the man isn't cut out for somebody like them. Square peg in a round hole shit.
She types, That's not the problem, and Logan cocks an eyebrow. Well? Then what is the problem? ]
[ Kimiko makes a point of glancing over her shoulder — left, right. Then, when she types out a message and shows it to him, this time its with her hand curved over the top of the device to protect it from prying eyes.
There aren't any. No one in the immediate vicinity gives a shit. She's not the brightest, okay. ]
[ Alright. Not the problem he was expecting to read. What's the trajectory here between a guy who won't call her back or something, and killing a Enforcer?
Logan scratches the side of his neck. ]
You're not in trouble, are you?
[ Doesn't seem like it, if she's hanging around without much interference. There're places where you really can't get away with murdering a cop, but this isn't necessarily one of them. It's not a good idea, mind, but he's gotten the feeling the way things work, sometimes it's a worse idea to mess with the guy who owns the street corner than the rookie who's roaming around looking for people to hassle.
But he's still waiting for more context here before he says anything else. ]
[ A one night stand gone sideways was never going to be the problem. Kimiko's confused, sure, maybe nursing a slight sting of... something. Isn't quite sure what names to put to what she's feeling, in fact. Wishes Serge was here for her to talk it over with. Advice from someone who has been solid and steady, existing in society a lot longer than she has, would have been nice.
But she's an adult, and her world is much bigger than one night. She'll be fine.
In answer to his question, she shakes her head. Trouble could come down, but in the mean time — ]
He was fixing my car. Enforcers came to harass him. Shit went south.
[ There's a long pause. Logan's tangled with his share of Enforcers, though for the most part, he's stayed out of their way, not because he's avoiding them but because they haven't given him any reason to get in their way yet.
Might just be a matter of time, though. ]
You wanna tell me who this guy is?
[ He wasn't gonna ask at first, but. Now it's feeling like more than a one-night stand who left her hanging. ]
[ No, would be her immediate answer. On a surface level, she sure doesn't need Logan making appeals on her behalf to a one night stand — while she know that's not his intention, the thought of it even being the most minute byproduct makes her want to shrivel with girlish, adolescent embarrassment.
The real reason would probably hurt him. The truth is, Kimiko wanted — wants — one part of her life to be unburdened from, removed from, uninjured by what he is. What they are.
But trouble only ever comes sideways, doesn't it? She's beginning to realise such wishes are fanciful, impossible.
She's silent for a few seconds. Pushes some loosely curled hair behind an ear, only for it to swing past her chin again. She trusts Logan. He's only ever shown her camaraderie, even when she didn't deserve it. A thread of understanding between them, a visceral sense of sameness snug in her inner ear. She can find it in herself to trust him a bit more.
Pulling a stub of a pencil out of her coat pocket, she scribbles down a name on a napkin and passes it to him.
Amos Burton (Don't beat him up!!!)
For good measure, the don't is underlined a few times. ]
[ Funny. He was expecting a guy I work with or somebody I met at the Dome. Actually, he's almost thinking about the man he'd spotted waving at her, just before they left to bowl.
The fact that he not only sees a name but recognizes it is...huh. Talk about a small fucking world. ]
Hey, I don't pick a fight with everybody. [ It's a casual protest, unbothered. He taps the name once. ] I know him. We had a...during the meteor fall. [ A wiggle of his hand to indicate said bullshit. He likes Amos, that much is clear from his tone. Not friends, exactly. An understanding, more like. ] Whatever's going on with him, it's not about you, trust me.
[ How's he say, I don't think this guy knows what a real relationship looks like? Not even as a judgement call. That's effectively what Amos implied—bluntly, with a strange sort of wonderment that Logan hasn't figured out what to make of. Maybe it's 'cause he's never been on the receiving end of that look. Like he's got something Amos doesn't. And he's realizing, it's usually him on the other side, feeling too much as if he's missing that core piece everybody else has.
So he gets it. When you're left asking if there's this thing about you that's irreparably damaged. When you wonder if the world cut it out of you or if it was never there. ]
I don't say this about a lot of folks. But I think you oughta give him a chance.
[ What words would she have used, other than his name? A mechanic, a space man. Someone who she probably never would have met if not for a flicker of fate, and now — doesn't know how to describe. Leaning her elbows against the bar, she downs a bit more of her drink. It isn't making anything clearer, but she appreciates the warmth it leaves in her belly.
A vague, questioning turn of her hand. In a way, indicating the tight little social circles surrounding them in the bar. Men and women in their own shared worlds. She's asking, or trying to ask — friend of yours?
That would be a good thing, right? Or it might be the worst possible turn of the situation. Kimiko imagines she'd feel roughly the same percolating sense of unease if she hooked up with someone and then found out they were M.M.'s nephew.
She shouldn't have given a name. The light pang of guilt at violating Amos's privacy lingers. ]
[ Sometimes it takes him a sec to interpret her meaning, but her gesture this time gets a shake of his head without much pause. ]
Acquaintance. [ Succinct and accurate enough. ] Seems alright.
[ High praise from Logan. He taps the counter for another drink, still chewing on the conversation. Given there's not much to do about the dead Enforcer, and this business with Amos is personal with a capital P, he suspects she didn't come to him for answers so much as a sounding board.
He doesn't mind it. The idea that she trusts him enough to do that.
Nice little words, even if she can't get a handhold in this shifting situation. One day, she hopes she can meet someone and not have the sky fall down — or not be continually tripped up by an indecisive Frenchman.
Well, she doesn't have to make up her mind right now. The lull of the little bar with its cozy warmth and its rustic brown hues is quite soothing, but it takes her a moment to realise how much of that comfort can be chalked up to Logan's presence. Reaching over, her fingers clutch gently into a fold in his coat sleeve and then just... stay there. There's a softness to it, even if gratitude makes her a bit clingy.
Also, she quickly pushes some joolies over when his next beer comes over. This one's on her. ]
[ Maybe there's something a little comforting about the normalcy of her having guy trouble. Even if guy trouble includes a dead Enforcer, and the potential threat of whenever that comes back to bite her in the ass.
But Logan's not letting himself sweat it. If she needs him, he'll be there. That's been the thing about Kimiko. First few hesitant weeks aside, she's made a habit of reaching out to him, and that's something he can admit to himself feels good. Feels like he's at least not screwing up this part.
His smile is brief, but genuine. He lets her pay—makes a note he'll pick up the tab next time. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
A cloud of smoke hovers over the corner he's carved out. His bottle's barely touched, tells the story of a man who came here to escape the black slush outside more than to drown his sorrows. The book in his hands is bent at the spine, a bunch of poetry that reminds him of the beatnik shit. He lets the cover fall shut when Kimiko slides in next to him. ]
Just you and me, Miko. [ A one-fingered gesture at the chalkboard menu. Half the items are crossed out, but there's an eclectic mix left: waffle fries, popcorn shrimp, steak and eggs, cabbage rolls. (He doesn't think it's a real steak.) ] You want anything?
no subject
This might end up being the worst moment of Logan's life. It's certainly not the proudest or most fun moment of hers. ]
You're a man.
If you slept with someone, would you ever act like nothing happened after?
no subject
When the phone's held his way, Logan leans over to read it with a mouthful of cigar smoke. He doesn't choke on it, but there's a. Pause. Where it almost seems like he swallowed some of that instead of exhaling.
Right. Okay. How come people are comin' to him for relationship advice? Adrian did this, too, and he's got no idea what it is about him that makes anybody think he's the guy to talk to. ]
Do I get to know what this is about?
no subject
He acted like nothing happened after.
[ Presented with a light click of her fingers, a keep up, dude in her expression. ]
no subject
[ That's his assessment. He doesn't have an answer for Would you ever? 'cause Logan rarely stays long enough to need to pretend nothing happened. He just leaves, which makes him a different brand of jackass (sometimes, a lot of the times), and he assumes those women also went on to find better or hell, maybe they spent their lives deliberately sleeping with guys like him for reasons of their own. Chunks of his life, the detachment was the point. It's not all he is anymore, but maybe he's still prone to taking off too quickly, too soon, without a word.
But it's been a while. Lately, he's got more important things to do than waste his days at a bar and pick up a girl he knows is gonna wake up the next morning to the rumble of his bike taking off. Like fucking time travel, apparently. And fight homicidal robots.
He lets the ash dribble casually from the tip of his cigar. ] You want me to kick his ass?
no subject
But he doesn't provide her any clarity, either. She shakes her head, no; her hair swishes lightly. ]
Do you think I did something wrong?
[ That's the trigger that makes it make sense, right?
Like Butcher always said she would. ]
no subject
Logan frowns. He's not sure he likes it, the way she asks that, as though it might be a given. ] Hey, listen—any guy would be lucky to have you.
[ He means that. She's got a good heart. She looks after her friends. And he knows that's not something people like them just get to be after the world's done its damnedest to shape them otherwise. It's a painful sort of transformation, clawing your way back to being a person. ]
But if you really want to know what's going through his head, you gotta ask him, not me.
no subject
She fucked it up, which might not be a surprise, but— she's got her own way of talkin'.
Kimiko downs half her beer in one long, unbroken swig. There's visible frustration in the way her hands move after, some sort of restlessness she can't put a name to. A cabbage roll is eaten.
Then, after a minute or two — ]
It's actually kind of nice
Having space to worry about something this stupid
[ Because she knows it's stupid, and she ought to just... let it go. But, also — ]
That's not the problem, though
no subject
Reality is, he's no good at this shit, either. Relationships. That it's working with Karen is entirely because Karen's...Karen. God knows he hasn't done fuck all to make things easy, and even though he's trying—he is—he knows trying for him isn't always what everybody else expects.
He gets where Kimiko is coming from. It's always gonna feel like there's something broken in them. 'Cause there is. There just is. Y'know, maybe he's learning to blame himself less and less for it—and she shouldn't blame herself, either—but that doesn't change the fact that they're...different. And people like Charles or Karen, they're the rare few who don't get chased off by it. So this mystery guy of hers, Logan doesn't know. Might be the honest truth is, the man isn't cut out for somebody like them. Square peg in a round hole shit.
She types, That's not the problem, and Logan cocks an eyebrow. Well? Then what is the problem? ]
no subject
There aren't any. No one in the immediate vicinity gives a shit. She's not the brightest, okay. ]
Killed an enforcer.
no subject
Logan scratches the side of his neck. ]
You're not in trouble, are you?
[ Doesn't seem like it, if she's hanging around without much interference. There're places where you really can't get away with murdering a cop, but this isn't necessarily one of them. It's not a good idea, mind, but he's gotten the feeling the way things work, sometimes it's a worse idea to mess with the guy who owns the street corner than the rookie who's roaming around looking for people to hassle.
But he's still waiting for more context here before he says anything else. ]
no subject
But she's an adult, and her world is much bigger than one night. She'll be fine.
In answer to his question, she shakes her head. Trouble could come down, but in the mean time — ]
He was fixing my car.
Enforcers came to harass him.
Shit went south.
no subject
Might just be a matter of time, though. ]
You wanna tell me who this guy is?
[ He wasn't gonna ask at first, but. Now it's feeling like more than a one-night stand who left her hanging. ]
no subject
The real reason would probably hurt him. The truth is, Kimiko wanted — wants — one part of her life to be unburdened from, removed from, uninjured by what he is. What they are.
But trouble only ever comes sideways, doesn't it? She's beginning to realise such wishes are fanciful, impossible.
She's silent for a few seconds. Pushes some loosely curled hair behind an ear, only for it to swing past her chin again. She trusts Logan. He's only ever shown her camaraderie, even when she didn't deserve it. A thread of understanding between them, a visceral sense of sameness snug in her inner ear. She can find it in herself to trust him a bit more.
Pulling a stub of a pencil out of her coat pocket, she scribbles down a name on a napkin and passes it to him.
Amos Burton
(Don't beat him up!!!)
For good measure, the don't is underlined a few times. ]
no subject
The fact that he not only sees a name but recognizes it is...huh. Talk about a small fucking world. ]
Hey, I don't pick a fight with everybody. [ It's a casual protest, unbothered. He taps the name once. ] I know him. We had a...during the meteor fall. [ A wiggle of his hand to indicate said bullshit. He likes Amos, that much is clear from his tone. Not friends, exactly. An understanding, more like. ] Whatever's going on with him, it's not about you, trust me.
[ How's he say, I don't think this guy knows what a real relationship looks like? Not even as a judgement call. That's effectively what Amos implied—bluntly, with a strange sort of wonderment that Logan hasn't figured out what to make of. Maybe it's 'cause he's never been on the receiving end of that look. Like he's got something Amos doesn't. And he's realizing, it's usually him on the other side, feeling too much as if he's missing that core piece everybody else has.
So he gets it. When you're left asking if there's this thing about you that's irreparably damaged. When you wonder if the world cut it out of you or if it was never there. ]
I don't say this about a lot of folks. But I think you oughta give him a chance.
no subject
A vague, questioning turn of her hand. In a way, indicating the tight little social circles surrounding them in the bar. Men and women in their own shared worlds. She's asking, or trying to ask — friend of yours?
That would be a good thing, right? Or it might be the worst possible turn of the situation. Kimiko imagines she'd feel roughly the same percolating sense of unease if she hooked up with someone and then found out they were M.M.'s nephew.
She shouldn't have given a name. The light pang of guilt at violating Amos's privacy lingers. ]
no subject
Acquaintance. [ Succinct and accurate enough. ] Seems alright.
[ High praise from Logan. He taps the counter for another drink, still chewing on the conversation. Given there's not much to do about the dead Enforcer, and this business with Amos is personal with a capital P, he suspects she didn't come to him for answers so much as a sounding board.
He doesn't mind it. The idea that she trusts him enough to do that.
It's kinda nice, actually. ]
no subject
Give him a chance.
Nice little words, even if she can't get a handhold in this shifting situation. One day, she hopes she can meet someone and not have the sky fall down — or not be continually tripped up by an indecisive Frenchman.
Well, she doesn't have to make up her mind right now. The lull of the little bar with its cozy warmth and its rustic brown hues is quite soothing, but it takes her a moment to realise how much of that comfort can be chalked up to Logan's presence. Reaching over, her fingers clutch gently into a fold in his coat sleeve and then just... stay there. There's a softness to it, even if gratitude makes her a bit clingy.
Also, she quickly pushes some joolies over when his next beer comes over. This one's on her. ]
🎀
But Logan's not letting himself sweat it. If she needs him, he'll be there. That's been the thing about Kimiko. First few hesitant weeks aside, she's made a habit of reaching out to him, and that's something he can admit to himself feels good. Feels like he's at least not screwing up this part.
His smile is brief, but genuine. He lets her pay—makes a note he'll pick up the tab next time. ]