Title: Bonding
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Logan and Weevil talk. Takes place right after finale.
Disclaimer: Nothing belong to me.
07/02/05
He doesn't want pity. He knows what he is. He knows why he's here, standing on a ledge, contemplating how long it will take him to hit the water, and when he does, how badly it will hurt. He hears Weevil's threats, somewhere they register in his head, but he can't make sense of the words coming out of his mouth. He can't make sense of anything anymore, it seems.
Weevil's leaning against his car—probably scratching up the paint job too, the ass—and looking at Logan. The rest of his cronies have left, bored by the lack of fisticuffs. "Let me guess: you're just misunderstood, right?"
"Nah, man, I'm just me," Logan replies, with a grin.
"Tell me why I should let you walk away without giving you the beating of your life."
"Hmm… Yeah. I'm almost intimidated." Logan shakes his finger at Weevil, laughing. "You've been working on your Bully. Those audio tapes are really worth every penny of that $19.95," he says, tipping his flask toward Weevil and washing down his sarcasm with a long swig of alcohol.
"Yeah, clever. What are you, rebel without the cause?"
"Oh, there's a cause, my friend. A very tiny, very blonde cause. But you know all about those, don't you?"
Logan sways, regaining his balance just in time to see Weevil flinch.
"What's this, like a game that only trust-fund-babies and neglected-movie-stars-kids can play? Got bored of your infinity pool and Playstation?"
"Yes, exactly. How do you know me so well? It boggles!"
"Why don't you come down here and we'll talk man-to-man?"
"Nah. Nope. I like the view from up here. And besides, my life sucks even more from down there."
Weevil shakes his head, taking a step toward Logan. "You're not going to kill yourself, man."
"Oh no? Why's that?"
Eyes on the ground, Weevil sighs. "Because Lilly wouldn't have wanted you to."
"Spare me. Lilly's dead, Eli." Logan rolls his eyes and takes an unsteady step on the railing.
"Yeah, but she loved you."
"Lilly loved a lot of people. From the rumours going around, she even loved you a few times." Logan shudders. "There's no accounting for taste."
Weevil smirks. "Yeah, well, some chicks dig the whole bad-boy-wrong-side-of-the-tracks thing. You know, sometimes they want to get away from Mayberry for a while and visit the barrio--see how the other half lives. And that's all it was."
"I'm sure."
"No, you're not hearing me, Opie, she really loved you. I know, no accounting for taste," he taunts. "I was…I was a mistake, a way to pass the time. You know how restless she could get."
Logan stops, stares. He wants to believe what Weevil is telling him. "I guess she forgot to take her Ritalin when she was with you. She was a wild one," he says, quietly. "A real live wire. I guess I got too close, because she sure as Hell burned me."
"She burned me too, but you don't see me hanging out on bridges, ready to throw myself off."
"That's because you've only been burned by one blonde; I've got one up on you. Unless you have a thing with Veronica going on behind my back…which, at this point, really wouldn't surprise me."
"Stop being a jerk and get your skinny, white-boy butt off that ledge, before I drag you off."
"Only if we can continue to bond over my dead girlfriend. Please?"
"You getting down or not?"
"Yeah, yeah." Logan jumps down and miraculously sticks the landing. "Look, just because I came down doesn't mean you saved my life or anything… I mean, I hope you don't think we're, like, friends now just because of this little Hallmark moment. I still have a reputation to uphold and you know I'll just deny everything anyway."
"The day I call you my friend is the day I jump off this bridge. And I wouldn't be too proud of that reputation."
"Yeah, well, we can't all have our very own motorcycle gang, now can we?"
"I guess not," Weevil says, straddling his bike and picking up his helmet. "Stay away from high places. And, hey, get yourself a brunette girlfriend."
"You, always with the jokes. Maybe I'll come 'round the barrio and find myself a nice Seniorita."
"You couldn't handle that kind of spice," Weevil says, helmet on, engine revved. Logan smiles and shakes his head, watching as he drives out of sight.
Talked down from a bridge by Eli "Weevil" Navarro? Fuck, he'll never hear the end of it.
-End-
