Title: Labels
Summary: Logan done a bad, bad thing.
Disclaimer: Not mine, believe me.
Dedication: This one's for Pete Meilinger.
Thanks to: Vic (sorry Vic), Pete, Jen, Dot, and Melissa.
"You're so good to me, baby," Logan said drowsily. Marie's hands felt so good on his back, rubbing and kneading the tired muscles. "I'm sorry."
Marie picked up the sunscreen bottle and smiled gently. "I know you don't mean to hurt me, Logan. You used to be with Cecilie. It's hard for you to be around her and not touch her." She poured the cool lotion onto his back and started to rub it in.
"Thanks, Marie. You're the best. I'll go swimming with you again after I just close my eyes for a little while." He dragged his towel under his head to act as an impromptu pillow, squirmed on the chair until he was comfortable, then drowsed off to the blissful feel of Marie's hands.
When he woke, it was late afternoon. Everyone else had gone inside. He yawned and sat up, a little embarrassed, hoping he hadn't been snoring. He picked up his towel and went into the kitchen.
Jean was in there, making a sandwich. He admired her long, long legs shown off by her denim shorts. She smiled. "Nice nap?"
"Yeah, thanks," he grumbled. He slung his towel on the counter and opened the fridge.
Jean snorted.
He spun. "What?"
Jean clapped a hand to her mouth. "Uh, nothing," she managed between her fingers. "I have to go." She grabbed her sandwich and fled.
Logan shrugged, mystified. "Women." He took a beer from the fridge and headed up to his room.
Scott met him on the stairs. "Working hard, eh?"
"Those of us without a carrot in the ass occasionally like to relax, Cyke," Logan said with a mock scowl.
"I wouldn't know," Scott replied solemnly. "I have a whole vegetable garden." He continued down the stairs.
Too shocked to turn to face Scott, Logan froze. "Did you just-"
"It's a joke, Logan. Deal with it."
Then Scott snorted, too.
Logan spun. "What the hell?"
Scott raised his hands in the traditional "Ai Senor, bandits have raided our village" pose and exited quickly.
Feeling completely rattled, Logan made it back to his room without further incident. He stalked straight into his bathroom and inspected his reflection. He didn't have anything stuck in his teeth, there was nothing hanging out of his nose, and his hair was behaving – mostly. He turned, and struggled to see his back in the mirror.
There were letters on it. Big, red letters.
"Oh, no," he groaned. "E. . . L, I think. . . O. . . oh, crap, it's 'asshole', isn't it." He shook his head, half-upset, half-impressed at Marie's ingenuity. "This must've taken her ages."
He heard a voice from the door. "Time flies when you're getting revenge. It's over, Logan." Marie was leaning against the door with her arms folded. She smirked at him and left.
