InsaneJournal

Who: Rikku and Logan.
What: Rikku needs parts!
When: Sunday, 9/15.
Where: Logan's shop!
Rating: PG-13 for Logan's pottymouth.
Status: Complete!



Logan had finally gotten around to reopening his shop. He wanted to feel normal, and running a business was pretty normal. Plus the funds meant he could divert his vast wealth to other things.

That. And he just wanted to be really, really busy.

Rikku was looking for the starter to a 1968 Indian cruiser, and figured that this shop might have it. Well, not really figured, more like she was just going to every shop she could find online. This was just next on the list.

“Hello? Anybody home?”

Logan looked up from a bike he was working on. He was elbow deep in oil. “Come in the back, my hands are kinda occupied!”

“Got it!” Rikku walked in and carefully picked her way apart, whistling low when she saw what he was doing. “Are you rebuilding a catalytic converter by hand? AWESOME!” She crouched down immediately. “Want me to hand you stuff?”

He looked at her, then nodded his head to the tool box. It was as if he were used to teenage girls coming in and handing him stuff while he worked on a bike. What was another stray? “Thanks, darlin’.”

“Ew, I’m not your darling, I have a girlfriend.” She took out the tools she thought he’d need and laid them out. “You know this is faster if you use a paint brush, right?”

“Yep, darlin’,” He replied, drawling out the second word with extra emphasis, and a grin. “Prefer it this way. Bristles on metal get on my nerves. An’ you don’t need to worry, my girlfriend would kill me if I tried anythin’.”

“Fine, then you’re sugarbritches.” She stuck out her tongue, handing him a tiny flat head screw driver from her bag. “Here, use this for the sticky gunk, it works awesome.”

Logan rolled his eyes, and took the tool. “Shoulda seen this thing yesterday. Looked like someone had left it in an oil drum for fifty years.”

“Poor old girl,” Rikku murmured. “OH. That reminds me, I’m building a bike in my spare time, do you have a ‘68 starter for an Indian?”

“Indian? I might.” He nodded his head towards a binder on one shelf. He still kept most of his shit on paper. “Red tab, if I have one it’ll say where. Yellow tab’ll have shit I could modify if you don’t care ‘bout original parts.” But really, not many people restoring an old bike wanted non-original parts.

“I’ll look in a second, you might need me to hand you stuff. I’m Rikku.” She thrust out her own grease covered hand, her huge leather jacket dwarfing her wrist.

“Logan,” he replied, shaking her hand, grease and all. Then he shot her another look. And sniffed. “Huh. You Kitty’s Rikku?”

Rikku blinked. “You know KittyKitty?”

“Yeah. We go way back. She’s kinda like a kid sister to me. I’ve been her sensei, an’ her trainer, too.”

“Oh poopie,” Rikku muttered. “So I’m basically meeting her big brother right now?” Rikku suddenly felt the urge to hide inside of her jacket and put her goggles down. She only did the latter.

Logan smirked. “Depending on who you ask, big brother or papa. So what do you see in my little pumpkin?” Kitty would kill him for saying that nickname to her girlfriend.

“... she lets you call her that without doing that pouty thing she does?” Rikku laughed. “I don’t know, I like making her smile. She’s like my best friend that makes me feel all giggly when we cuddle. Is that ... weird? Also, ew, not saying more than that.”

His smirk turned into an eyeroll. “Ain’t like I’m not used to the smell of her havin’ sex an’ shit. Lived’ in the same buildin’. Sorta.”

Rikku’s eyes went wide and she did resort to hiding inside her leather jacket. “ohmygodtalkaboutanythingelseplease.”

Logan grinned even wider. “Okay, I’ll change the subject. The Indian a personal project?”

“Yes,” came the tiny reply. “I can’t build robots and bombs all day, can I?”

“You’d like Forge. He built all kinda shit. Was a genius with machines.” Logan held his hand out for another tool. “Sentient coffee maker, once.”

Rikku handed the tool over, just instinctually knowing what Logan wanted by figuring he’d want whatever she would want next. “That sounds cool. I built little robots for the twins. Dunno if they’ll get them now.”

“Why not?” Logan started fitting the thing back onto the bike. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and got grease on his forehead.

“She’s all ... you know how she bottles up her sad and kind of puts it on a shelf? I think it fell over. It’s boom.” She sighed sadly, even as she reached into her jacket to hand Logan a cheerful yellow handkerchief.

“Shit..” Logan took the handkerchief to wipe his hand. It had little ducks on it or something. He didn’t care about it, really. No matter how cute it was. “She just buries it until it explodes. She wants people to not have to see the mess.”

“But she forgets that big booms are messy.” Rikku shook her head. “I could kick her.”

“Why don’t you? Kitty is a strong woman, she can handle a kick in the ass, an sometimes she needs the kick in the ass.” Logan replied. “Serious kick in the ass.”

“I already told her how I feel, I don’t wanna harp on about it forever.” She sometimes wished she’d stayed Forever Alone - robots were easier. “Girls are weird.”

“Yeah. They’re weird. Confusin’ an’ infuratin’ and crazy an’ weird, but also really nice.” Logan replied. He got to his feet and gave her a smirk. “An’ worth it, most of the time.”

“Kittykitty is. I don’t know if I want any other girls but her. It’s not like I’m touching other ones.” Rikku looked over his work and then pulled out another rag, polishing it carefully.

“I’d hope not.” He walked over to a large shelf of parts and started hunting through it. “There’s foolin’ around when you’re not with anyone, an’ then there’s foolin’ around with the person you’re with.”

“Oh, she’s the only person I’ve been with ever.” Rikku shook her head. “I like her a lot.”

Logan put the part on the counter and looked at her over it, his expression clearly ‘she took your virginity? ima kill her.’

Rikku blinked. “What?”

“You were a virgin?” Both his eyebrows went up.

“Yeah, so?” Rikku didn’t get the line of inquiry.

“Nothin’, jus’ that sometimes makes shit complicated,” Logan replied, speaking from personal experience. He couldn’t really call Kitty out on that.

“Someone had to do it. If anything, I’m the responsible one in this relationship.” She folded her arms, not caring that she was getting streaks of grease onto her jacket. It was leather, it’d come off.

That brought a grin to Logan’s face. “That’s probably a first. Good luck, she needs it. Jus’ hope things don’t get too fucked up.” He understood the need for intimacy and closeness, after losing someone. He also understood the need for distance and space. He figured Kitty was more the former.

“She’s ... it’s weird, it’s like she needs to need someone, but then she feels disloyal. I just have to remind myself not to fall for her yet, because she’s not mine yet. She’s still Xian’s.” Rikku shrugged and resumed polishing frantically.

That was probably wiser for her years than she even realized, Logan thought. “You can’t always control what your heart does. Or wants.”

“Oh, I know. It’s why I’m not upset or flipping tables. It’s frustrating, but it’s worth it, you know?” Rikku handed over the perfectly polished and WD-40’d part.

“Huh. Want a job?” Logan looked at the part, dropping the other subject for now.

“Oh, I have one.” Rikku bit her lip. “I work over at Stark Industries in R&I for robotics.” She was insanely proud of it; she hadn’t even gone to college for anything like that.

“Stark’s an ass,” was Logan’s expert assessment, offered without any prompting. He grinned at her. “At least the one from my world. This isn’t ain’t that bad.”

“He helped hire me, I like him a lot.” Rikku smiled. “Of course, I grew up on Air Force bases, so I’m kind of used to douchebags.” Rikku didn’t even want to go into Pops; her dad was special assholey.

“Fair enough. Do what you love to do. Don’t let anyone take it.”

“I wouldn’t. Just ... there’s something about making big booms that makes me happy.” She sighed a little, eyes nearly crossing at the idea of it. “How could I trade that?”

“Don’t ever, for any reason,” Logan said. It was blunt, sage advice.

“I wouldn’t, don’t worry.” Rikku shrugged at him, a ‘no duh’ look on her face.

Logan snorted, then held out the bike part for her. “Gift. Take it.”

“You sure? Is it just because I’m Kittykitty’s girlfriend?” Rikku took it, wrapped it carefully in a cloth and put it into her pocket.

“That’s part of it, but you also seem like a good person, with a good taste in bikes. Besides.” He looked up at her. “Somethin’ tells me that part’ll get more love in your bike than most others.”

“How can you not love parts? I don’t even have favorite machines, I have favorite parts of machines,” she flailed.

Logan laughed. “An’ you ask why I’m givin’ you that part?”

“Okay, point, but still, grampa, let me pay you.” Rikku stood up and folded her arms.

“You cleaned up that part really nice, how about consider that a trade?”

Rikku grinned, reaching out to hug him. She was a hugger, he’d have to friggin’ deal.

Logan was used to huggers. He would have to friggin’ deal.