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fh_jackassAngel had gone out to fetch his own dinner. (They could've had the blood delivered, but wouldn't the tabloids just love that?) Logan gave a cursory examination of the contents of the kitchen and decided to order in Chinese.
He had been doing his best not to think about what day it was. Even as he packed up boxes to take back to L.A. (as long as he was stuck here, he might as well do something productive) he didn't really look at the photos and memorabilia. Four years had past and the wound still hadn't fully healed.
And then it all came tumbling down, brought about by, of all things, a can of soda. He'd grabbed an orange Skist from the fridge without thinking about it, but he hadn't had a Skist in years (he'd never found the brand outside of his own dimension) and the taste brought back a sudden vivid memory of a time Before Everything.
Lilly didn't like the orange Skist. She insisted it had a weird lemon-Pledge taste, which Duncan, Veronica and Logan had all tried to detect and failed. One afternoon when they'd been experimenting with mixed drinks in the poolhouse, Logan had come up with a concoction with the Skist. Lilly proclaimed, in a dramatic announcement complete with a majestic pose that made Veronica fall off the bed giggling, that Logan had finally discovered the recipe that made the orange Skist not just drinkable, but "positively delightful." She'd said it in this faux-pompous accent and held the cup with her little finger sticking out. Her t-shirt had ridden up so her belly was exposed and Logan couldn't resist tackling her to kiss it and knocked over her drink in the process. He'd never managed to mix that drink again, despite countless experiments and promises of what he'd be rewarded with if he did succeed in replicating it.
It was all the fault of the damned Skist that when Angel returned, he found Logan on the couch with chow mein and whiskey, looking through a scrapbook that Lilly and Veronica had made years ago.
At least he'd found something to distract him from that annoying ankle monitor. It was beginning to chafe.
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notstakedyet]
He had been doing his best not to think about what day it was. Even as he packed up boxes to take back to L.A. (as long as he was stuck here, he might as well do something productive) he didn't really look at the photos and memorabilia. Four years had past and the wound still hadn't fully healed.
And then it all came tumbling down, brought about by, of all things, a can of soda. He'd grabbed an orange Skist from the fridge without thinking about it, but he hadn't had a Skist in years (he'd never found the brand outside of his own dimension) and the taste brought back a sudden vivid memory of a time Before Everything.
Lilly didn't like the orange Skist. She insisted it had a weird lemon-Pledge taste, which Duncan, Veronica and Logan had all tried to detect and failed. One afternoon when they'd been experimenting with mixed drinks in the poolhouse, Logan had come up with a concoction with the Skist. Lilly proclaimed, in a dramatic announcement complete with a majestic pose that made Veronica fall off the bed giggling, that Logan had finally discovered the recipe that made the orange Skist not just drinkable, but "positively delightful." She'd said it in this faux-pompous accent and held the cup with her little finger sticking out. Her t-shirt had ridden up so her belly was exposed and Logan couldn't resist tackling her to kiss it and knocked over her drink in the process. He'd never managed to mix that drink again, despite countless experiments and promises of what he'd be rewarded with if he did succeed in replicating it.
It was all the fault of the damned Skist that when Angel returned, he found Logan on the couch with chow mein and whiskey, looking through a scrapbook that Lilly and Veronica had made years ago.
At least he'd found something to distract him from that annoying ankle monitor. It was beginning to chafe.
[For
notstakedyet]
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Date: 2007-10-11 03:54 am (UTC)Amazing how stoic this vamp could get.
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