2019-04-01 - Firm Mattresses & Commitments

Since the park, since the fight before, things were shifting. Sometimes, he went to bed fully dressed, Emily under the covers and him on top, drowning in his grief and guilt. Sometimes, he went to bed without a shirt on, drifting on the raft that was this tacky waterbed with an arm around Emily. And sometimes, he went to bed without anything on, limbs tangled and intertwined. Those were the best nights and not just because of what they find in one another before they fall asleep, but because those were the nights that feel the most normal even though the situation is truly fucked up. But they almost always cycle through to the worst nights, because what inevitably follows are the nights where he goes to bed fully dressed, to start the cycle over again.

He wakes with her bare back to him, his naked leg between either of her own, her red hair in his face and her scent in his lungs. Above their heads, where the pipes run, he can hear the water rushing and he knows the doctor is awake and taking yet another long ass shower. This dude can't fucking quit it seems, and Logan was dreading the next utility bill. For a moment, he traces the lines of Emily's sleeping body with the tips of his fingers, running down her arm and over her side, across her hip. Then he gently, reluctantly, extracts himself, the movement that takes him to the edge of the bed causing the mattress underneath to wobble and wave. Fuck this bed, seriously.

He takes his time to find some clean clothes, but he's still without a shirt when he comes back over to her side of the bed, and brushes some red hair from her face so that he can kiss her temple. "Hey," he is at least kind enough not to keep his voice low. "Get up and get dressed. We got someplace to be."

Emily takes the nights as they come - or as they don't come, depending. She doesn't ask questions or make comments, never paws at him on the wrong nights or pushes him away on the right ones. Maybe they're completely in sync about this situation, or maybe she just doesn't want to break anything. Regardless, while the doctor is up there taking a marathon shower - Logan should charge him more; he's good for it - and Logan is trying to pretend he can get out of bed without making it slosh like a drunken ship, she's asleep. While he's brushing hair off her face and kissing her temple, she's asleep. While he's talking to her in a low voice, she's pretending to be asleep.

She pulls the sheet up over her head, disappears under it, and demands grumpily, "Where?" Because apparently she didn't have to be at work today and he's waking her up and that's, "Rude."

Logan's eyes roll as she pulls the sheet up over her head and pretends to disappear, her muffled voice from within earning her a rough huff a laugh. "You're worse than a child," not that Logan would know, he never had any. But he doesn't try to release her from her blanket-hideout, he just finds the shape of her hip beneath the covers and pokes his fingers obnoxiously into her. "We're going out of town. Not far. But out," he replies, hoping the mystery will dig her out of her hiding spot while he retreats to find a clean shirt. Overhead, the water was still rushing, and he directs a glare up to the pipes. "Maybe I should put this dude's bed in the shower," he grumbles.

Emily's foot sneaks out from under the sheet, and her toes kick him in the thigh while he's poking her in the hip, pushing, go away, mean Logan, Emily is sleeping. The words 'out of town' do their magic, though, and she scrapes the sheet down, peering out from beneath it with just her eyes, ranging around the room to eventually find where Logan's finishing getting dressed. And she was too busy being grumpy to enjoy the free show, so that's what she gets. She sits up, wanting to ask but also... not. Mystery is fun, and - enh, if she was doing this to him, there's no way she'd tell him where, so. "I'll go tell him to quit using all the hot water."

Right now, wrapped up in the sheet that she takes with her when she gets out of bed, marching toward the stairs, counting on Logan to stop her.

"Ow, jeeze, fuck," laments Logan as she prods him with her toes in spite of the fact that she wasn't hurting him in the least. "You're going to give me more bruises." Like the one on his FACE. He gives her littlest piggy a pinch and peels her foot off his thigh before he retreats, managing to nearly have the whole shirt on by the time she pokes her head out. No show for Emily, sucks to be her. "Hurry up," he grouses, only to have her declare what she does and take the sheet with her on the way.

She counts on him to stop her and that's just what he does, mostly because she has to walk past him to get to the stairs. So he reaches out to take her arm, giving her and her sheet a tug into him, narrowing a glance down her form. "You go up there like that, and he's gonna need to take another fucking shower," he remarks, staring at her for a moment longer than absolutely necessary, before he leans to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose while hooking his fingers into the top of the sheet where it drapes along her cleavage, to give it a firm tug. Whether or not he manages to peel the sheet off her, the outcome is the same - he lets her go, and starts walking up the stairs. "Get some clothes on. I got places to be and promises to keep. I'm gonna go make some breakfast for the road."

Emily might be down here mumbling things about taking a shower with the pretty doctor, then, if Logan's just gonna leave her down here butt-naked and alone and no hot water to spare. This is why she doesn't talk to Alex, because he's selfish, not because they're alts.

Logan goes upstairs, and Emily figures out how to wash her face (with cold water), brush her hair, normal human things. She trails upstairs after him a few minutes later, looking sulkily across the kitchen at him. "You need to step up your morning game." While he's fixing her breakfast. She comes over to peer at it.

Logan leaves her to her grumbling, muttering something about how if she's going to have to take a shower with the pretty doctor, then he's going to have to, too, and that's how things get awkward and did he have to remind her that he wasn't running a brothel? Either way, upstairs he goes, to make her breakfast. And also make for his guests, since apparently he's running a bed and breakfast.

It's buttermilk waffles and sausages today, the batter got made last night and the waffle iron's already hot. She gets a scatter of chocolate chips in the waffles that he's making for her. "You think so?" he turns a look over his shoulder while she comes to peer, brows raising. "If I stepped up my morning game this morning, we wouldn't have gotten out of bed until noon," he decides with a shrug. "Then the guests'll get pissed, and I'll fall into financial ruin, and we'll be out on the streets," all the doom and gloom is said with a grin, as he arranges a to-go container with some sausages and cut pieces of fruit.

Emily says, "Yep," about all the things that would have happened if Logan wasn't such a mature, responsible individual. This is where the meta goes about banging his crazy sister-in-law without protection that belies the aforementioned maturity and responsibility. "Except not noon." Like that's the salient bit. "At all." See? They can be normal. She even scoots in between him and all these to-go containers for a minute, making him pay attention to her with a few bitey kisses before adding, "There needs to be coffee," going with them. Point her in the direction of travel-cups, she can help.

At all? The upward lift of his brows spikes hire. Okay, Emily, you have his attention. "We would surely be ruined then," he remarks with a slow twist of a smirk to his lips, an appreciative glance stolen down her body when she comes to wedge herself between him and the food. But he proves to be the mature, responsible individual that he is by briefly pressing her up against the counter so that he can return those bitey kisses in kind, sighing against her lips when she mentions coffee. "Mm. Coffee's already brewed. Cups are over there," he points vaguely to the pantry where he keeps his stock of paper products, but he's not going to let her go without a fight. Or, well, without at least a few more kisses.

Maybe if there weren't guests in this house (or ghosts in this house), Emily would work harder at derailing Logan's plans and making him do things with her on the kitchen counter. As it is, she gets as far as teeth scraping his Adam's apple, as fingers rummaging up his back under his shirt and nails dragging back down his spine - when the water finally goes off upstairs, and she drops down onto the flats of her feet again, looking up at the ceiling. With a sigh, she patpats his cheek, ducks under his arm, and goes over there to get the cups and turn them into something useful, like coffee. She puts together two cups and decides, "I'll wait on the porch." Where it's cool, and she can drink coffee, and she won't be tempted to attack Logan more or make hate-eyes at the water-hog.

Unlike some shrimpy doctors, it was unlikely that Logan would've said no to doing things with her on the kitchen counter next to all that food in spite of how unsanitary that would be. Health inspectors be damned. But alas, alack, the water upstairs goes off while Logan's trying to figure out how to peel Emily out of her pants while keeping one hand up her top, and she drops to her feet and he silently curses the world with another glare up to the ceiling while she makes her escape. "Yeah," he mumbles something about needing a shower of his own now while pushing food hastily into to-go containers, leaving a plate of waffles (filled with berries, Dr. Cockblock gets no chocolate chips!) behind on the counter.

He's outside shortly thereafter, tilting his head in the direction of the truck parked in the driveway so she knows where to go, but he doesn't wait to see if she follows. He just assumes she is, which is why he pops open the passenger door first before getting into the driver's side, to-go containers in the middle of the bench seat. "I think he's checking out soon," he says of the doctor once she's in the truck, "He said something about renting a place. I don't have another booking lined up until next month."

Granted, Emily's stubborn enough to just let him leave while she sits on the porch all day and does nothing, but she's not in that mood today. She gets into the truck after him, putting coffee cups into cup-holders - this truck better have cup-holders, or she's getting right the fuck back out - and fussing with her seat-belt, safety first. "I guess you better get on that shower thing, then, before that ship sails." And she'll just keep giving him tip-money every morning, like her breakfast-shift is what's going to keep them fed and clothed. "We could sell tickets," to the shower, she means. "Might conflict with your brothel-free oath, though." She shrugs at him and the hard decisions he has to make as a businessman.

Today was her lucky day - the truck DOES have cup-holders! Hooray, she can stay, and continue to snark away. Meanwhile, Logan's going to throw this party into high gear .. or at least whatever gear is necessary to back them out of the driveway and get on the road.

"Hmm. I'll think about it," selling tickets to the shower. There's about a second and a half of 'contemplation' before he shakes his head. "Nah, we'll be okay. Next month'll be a good month. Not to mention, I'm gonna save a whole hell of a lot on my water bill as soon as the doc's gone. You think he just likes to be clean?" He directs them down the hill that'll lead into downtown, destination unknown. But he seems to know where he's going, considering he doesn't use the GPS. "You thinking about doing something else? Other than the diner," he glances aside at her, expression softened. "Not that you need to. But you could think about it. Maybe the school needs an English teacher or something."

Emily watches out the window idly to comment, "I'll think about it, too." She does, staring glaze-eyed at the familiar street while she thinks about Logan and the little doctor in the shower. Does she think he just likes to be clean? "No," and sips her coffee, since she can put it safely in the cup-holder between drinks. "I might substitute teach. I'm not," she glances back over, squinting at Logan and his softened expression, "sure I'm ready for a real job. Again. Yet. Do I have to wait till we get somewhere?" With a finger tapping on top of the food containers that he spent all that time packing instead of having sex with her so it better be goddamn good food.

Logan just rolls his eyes, bringing his attention back to the windshield while she daydreams about the tiny doctor. Her response isn't questioned, nor does he inquire further. Logan's a man, he can figure out what Alex might be doing outside of getting clean. He mumbles something under his breath about needing to invest in a bleach company. "I get it," he says of her not being ready for a real job, though there's a touch of a frown. Perhaps he thinks there is more there, but he doesn't question that either. Instead, he focuses on the tap of her fingers along the food containers. "Nah. Eat. I don't think you can bring food where we're going. You wanna open mine, too?" so he doesn't crash the truck trying to eat.

And unless she has something monumental to say (like Logan, I'm pregnant and it's the ghost's), the truck-ride will be largely uneventful. At some point, he flips on the radio and hums along while they take the coastal highway. It's a thirty minute drive to the nearest bigger-little town, but they get there, weaving through the streets until they come to a small shopping mall. They stop directly in front of Mattress Firm, and Logan throws the truck in park. "We're here."

If Emily has a baby with her dead sister's ghost, and her dead sister is Logan's wife, does that still make Logan the dad?

So no, she has nothing much to say on the drive there, though she makes noises about the food being good, thumbs-up, he's forgiven for taking care of actual business. Eventually, she passes time with the radio and breathing on the window, drawing smiley-faces in the fog, and only about a third of them have Xs for eyes, which really speaks to her improved outlook on life. She blinks when the truck stops, they're here, and twists in her seat to look out the back window for, like, anything else in the parking lot. Back to Logan, brows furrowed, "Okaaaaay?" Less tentative, more... she's already staked a claim to the role of lunatic in this relationship, sir, and there can be only one.

We'll find out the answer to that question on the next episode of Maury!

Until then, they've reached their destination and Logan pops the driver side door in anticipation of getting out. But she turns in the seat and blinks at him, which means he has to explain. So he slowly twists away from the open door, meeting her furrowed brow with a lift of his own. "There's a sale," he waves a hand to the banners plastered in the window, as though that was his entire reason for being here. But wait! There's more: "I said I'd get rid of the water bed. Did you somehow become attached to it between then and now? 'Cause talk about a waste of fucking gas."

There's a sale. Emily follows the wave of his hand toward the banners, blinking at the dots that fail to connect... until Logan explains himself a little better and the dots do connect. Despite him being a snarky bitch about it, she's very obviously touched by his follow-through; it makes her smile right into his eyes, a rare smile with nothing cutting the edges. For a few seconds, she's just a perfectly normal person whose [insert term for Logan here] has done something nice and made her happy. So she pecks him on the cheek, leaning awkwardly over all the Tupperware on the seat between them, then shoulders open the passenger door of the truck and hops right out. That'd be a no, she hasn't become attached to his tacky bed, she's so ready for this excursion now.

It seems as though he might have more to say about this considering the part to his lips, but perhaps he realizes that 'snarky bitch' was her role in the relationship and he didn't want to step on her toes. Or more likely, the smile that suddenly brightens her features is enough to still him, captivate him, and that expression of simple happiness mirrored easily onto his features. He turns that cheek-peck into a brush of lips with a quick turn of his head, and then he follows her out of the truck, coming around to hold the door to the shop open for her.

Inside, well, it's Mattress Firm. The lights are bright, the showing area is (mostly) clean, and there's a plump woman at the sales desk who looks eager to have another sucker - err, customer - come to purchase an overpriced bed. Logan slips his arm around Emily's waist once they're in.

"GoooOOOood morning!" the plump woman enthusiastically greets. Thank God Logan's had his coffee, else the flinch that responds to those words would be so much worse. "Welcome to Mattress Firm! Are you two looking for something in particular?"

Emily has no idea how to deal with this chipper beast. Logan flinches, and she stares sideways at this... woman... slowly retreating beneath the arm around her till she's about halfway behind him, like she needs a physical shield to keep the cheer from getting too close, IT BURNS. "We need a bed." There's no effort made to keep the 'duh' out of her voice. She pushes with her palm in between his shoulder-blades, pressing him to deal with this situation. The happy-happy about his follow-through keeps her from getting too weird, but she detaches herself from Logan (and this woman) and keeps them in her peripheral vision while she goes over to the nearest bed with a warning look at a salesman, don't! he'll be sorry, so she can mash her knee into it experimentally.

Logan casts a glance sideways and down to the redhead that shrinks under his arm and disappears behind his back, only just barely keeping his eyes from rolling out of his head. She pushes him forward and forward he goes, stumbling awkwardly towards the saleslady who will not be phased by Emily being a smart ass! She claps her hands together. "Very good! Very, very good," somebody tell this lady to lay off the crack. "You've come to the right place. But I always tell my couples to just have a look around and lay on a few, see which ones work the best for the both of you!" she motions as she speaks, wide sweeping gestures as she smiles happily to Logan. "So you and your wife can just have a look around and let me know when you find that bed that you simply can't live without!"

Logan folds his arms over his chest, peeling his eyes away from the chipper woman and back to Emily while she pushes her knees into the first mattress. "She's not my wife," because why not make things awkward? "She's my.." Yes, Logan, what is she? He finishes the sentence as he walks over to Emily, puts his hand right on her ass, and shoves her onto the mattress. "Sister in law."

Oh good. If they're allowed to just be weird, Emily can handle that. She goes, "Oof!" and tips right over into the mattress, pushing herself up onto her elbow after a second, leaving her hair fallen halfway over her face, to settle a smoldering look on Logan while Chipper is telling them to go browse, the sort of look no one with 'sister' in her title oughta be using on a man. "Too soft," says the carrot-topped Goldilocks. "I need something much firmer in a bed." Which is why she pat-pats the mattress for Logan, brow-wagging - and makes a woman here trying to buy a toddler bed gawk in astonishment and hustle her precious little booger-picking spawn toward a different section of the show-room, well-i-never'ing.

Chipper looks as though all her sensibilities have been offended. Literally all of them. But she keeps staring like one does at a train wreck while Logan comes crawling on his hands and knees into the too-soft bed with Emily, not to sprawl, but to test the mattress springs with his knees and hands. Squeak-squeak. "Not enough bounce either. And look at my knees, it's like fucking quicksand," on account of how his knees are sinking into the soft of the mattress. "How'm I gonna get any push?" he frowns over to Emily, and nopes right off this mattress, holding out his hand to yank Emily off of it. "We should've done our research. You know, what's the best mattress to.." There's a sidelong glance to Chipper, brows lifting expectantly. And so as to not upset her further, he finishes the question in the most PC way possible. "You know. Make whoopee on."

Somebody cast Logan for a 1970s game show, STAT!

Emily looks at Logan's knees as directed, musing, "Maybe if it had a proper headboard? Do you sell headboards?" Minion who works here. "With really sturdy bedposts?" She gets just as far as cuffing one of her wrists with a loop made of her other fingers, why they need to be really sturdy, and then is cheerfully jerked out of this example and onto her feet. "Oooooh," because this one is a racecar! She puts a hand on either of Logan's shoulders and steers him right over to it, making squeaky-brake noises with her mouth when she drags him to a stop. "We could play Fast and Furious. You have to be Fast, on account of you always finish first. And I'll be Furious, on account of you always finish first."

Logan nods his head emphatically as she pretends to cuff her own wrists, looking gravely over to the nearest salesperson. "Don't have a choice. I let her free and this happens," he taps a finger under his cheekbone, directing all the attention to the fading, yellow bruise on his eye. "It's a real problem." But before he has the chance to launch into a conversation about sexual violence, she's directing him to the race-car bed. By some grace of God, he doesn't lose it right then and there, swallowing laughter with a dramatic puff of his chest. "You're lucky I let you finish at all," he remarks, smacks her right on the rear with a clap of his open palm, and walks over to the next mattress.

"What about this one, sis? Beautyrest." He looks over his shoulder, squinting at her, and deadpans: "You're gonna need a lot of that."

But the racecar, Logan! Emily looks at it longingly, and just happens to be bending over to honk the little fake horn when that smack lands, so it's especially resounding. She yelps, flinging her hair back and looking at him askew - and beyond him to the salesman that's really just trying to mind his own business over here. With a come-hither brow-lift at this poor man, middle aged and balding and out of his element, she tells Logan, "No, I told you, we need a king-sized bed, or there's not going to be room for all of us. You better start listening, or I'm going to give you a matching set." A fist shakes at his eye when she skips right by him, over to the big one, and flings herself into the middle of it on her back, like she's not even a little worried about the hundreds of shoppers to have done this before her. "Look at this one! I wouldn't even know that you and," she points at the aforementioned salesguy, "were here in this one."

Logan shakes his hand with a flick of the wrist after that smack, flexing his fingers into his palm and out again. That one stung a bit! But she follows her come-hither gaze past him and to the poor balding salesman, canting his head in consideration. It takes a second or two of broadly sweeping looks from the top of the man's head to the tip of the man's toes.. but soon, his own brow lifts, and his lips twist into a devilish smirk. It's brief though, 'cause Emily's shaking her fist, and: "I'm not afraid of you," he says while promptly leaning backward, actions disputing words. He waits until she's made herself at home on the big bed before he leaps into it as well, rolling over onto his side and into her. But at least not quite onto her. There are children here, after all. "Hmm," he contemplates, propping his head up onto his knuckles and casting a look down her body. "Yes, I can definitely see you naked in this bed," he decides. "Do you think it'll fit? In the uh..." with his free hand, he makes air quotes around the next word: "'Basement'?"

That poor man turns so red. So, so red. Emily clearly didn't do it to/for him, but Logan? He tugs on his collar and goes scurrying off hide in the break room, which is why Emily winds up looking at Logan with eyes that are hugely impressed. "My my," and here she was, posing her ass off for the guy, and all Logan had to do was smirk.

"Wait, we have a basement?" She scoots away from him, palm flat to the middle of his chest, blinking confusedly. "Ohhhh, right. The," mumbledungeonmumble. "I think it'll be a little tight, but we'll just keep shoving till we get it in there, like we always do." She smiles dreamily across at him. But not his face or anything. That dreamy smile is specifically aimed at his hip-region.

It was unexpected, the balding salesman's reaction, but perhaps not wholly surprising. Logan meets Emily's hugely impressed eyes with a proud tip to his chin. "Are you shocked? Maybe I'm the reason the doctor needs to take so many showers," he wags his brows and somehow doesn't explode into laughter, even after that dreamy smile of hers is pinned to his hip. "I think you're right," he decides with a slow nod, aiming a look down to his hip-region as well. "But shoving big things in tight spaces is what we do best, soo.."

He lifts his gaze back to her, and this might all be fun and games, but the expression he shows up to her - and to her alone - is one of sincere adoration. Which is perhaps why he lifts his hand to touch her cheek, and before he finishes that thought, plants a kiss to her lips - something sweet and sincere at first, though quickly evolving into something edging along inappropriate for such a public place. Chipper was getting anxious, she 'ahem-ahems' and shuffles over. But before she has the chance to say 'you two should leave now before I call the cops', Logan breaks off from Emily and sits up. "We'll take it. I'm paying in cash."

She probably had all kinds of good answers about being shocked, about the smitten doctor, but the only one she bothers with is, "I know," about what they do best. "I keep telling you, we ought to monetize it. But you're such a prude."

Emily just manages to call him a prude when he goes looking at her like that, and she regrets being even pretend-mean to him, since she's scooting over to answer that kiss with her arms around his neck and everything. It's hard for anyone to see it, considering she has her hands all in his hair, but she absolutely gives Chipper the finger when she dares to remind them that a mattress store is not the appropriate place to get excited about each other - EVEN THOUGH IT IS FULL OF BEDS. He sits up, she doesn't, not for a minute, too busy walking her fingers up his spine and telling the woman, "I'm not allowed to have any money. It's against our religion." Then pries herself up with a hand on Logan's shoulder, scooting to the end of the bed with her feet dangling and a couple bounces, just to be sure before he shills out money that could be paying the water-bill.

Yes, yes. Logan's a prude, it is the only explanation for why he kisses her like that in the middle of a mattress store, and gropes at her hip to give it a promising squeeze before he's up and away. He doesn't want to be arrested, after all. "Mhm," to the religion, as he plants his feet on the floor and gives the bed a bounce too, mostly because standing up right now would prove to be a (big) problem. "She's also not allowed to wear clothes. In the house, of course. There's a sale?" he looks up with a smile to Chipper. "I should have enough to spring for the headboard, too. Really, it's amazing how much you can resell oxy for." And that part's probably not entirely a joke.

Chipper, of course, wasn't about to let an easy commission walk out the door or get arrested. So the rest of this should be fairly painless, until they get to figure out how to shove a mattress, box-spring, frame and headboard into the back of his truck. Talk about a tight fit.

The nice thing about stores like this is that they have way more people than seems strictly necessary. Useful people that work in the back and know how to use tie-downs and bungee cords. And slightly less useful people, like balding salesmen that just wants to hang around and look at Logan, but he at least has the best of intentions. Sure, he saw these two trying to eat each others' faces on a mattress, but that doesn't mean he can't still look, and he even helpfully gives them a red flag off the store's sale decorations, so they won't get a ticket with their oversized load.

It's that little act of decency and charity from the smitten salesman, while she's eyeing this truck-full and all the NPCs are dispersing back toward the store, that makes Emily's smile hang from Logan. "I bet he makes good money, selling mattresses. You sure you don't want to get his number, tiger?" But she doesn't mean it, because she keeps him there, threading arms around his waist, a thank-you in the way she leans into him in the parking lot.

It's just too bad those helpful, useful people couldn't come back to the house with them, because it was going to be a pain in the ass to unload the truck and break down the waterbed and Logan didn't think the shrimpy doctor would be much use. Still, the generosity of the balding salesman touches Logan (just not there), and he offers the man a pat on the shoulder and a genuine word of thanks before he and his redhead are left alone in the parking lot.

"Hm," Logan feigns consideration as he wraps his arms around her, looking over the top of her head to the store windows, and then lowering his gaze down to hers. "Nah. I think I'm pretty good with what I got," he replies, holding her gaze steady. "That bed might be big, but I think it's kinda perfect for just the two of us. And I don't want anybody else in it." It was probably a weird way to promise something of a commitment, but hey this whole situation was weird.

"Okay. That's probably for the best. I tell myself I wouldn't get jealous," of the kind-hearted salesman or the pretty doctor, "but I would probably murder him." That's Emily's weird way of answering that weird promise, while she looks up into his eyes for a minute and just exists. The parking lot isn't very pretty, and this whole load is going to be a big PITA - psychic powers or not - but that's okay, because she hugs him, brushes his lips with hers, and is okay. "I am so excited to sleep on dry land again, you have no idea." So get in the truck, they got a lot of heavy lifting yet to do.