Title: Beacon for the Dark Side
Relationship: Mac/Dick
Chapter Rating: pg-13/teen
Overall Rating: nc-17/explicit
Spoiler(s): pre-series, season one
Word Count: 4,151
Summary: (au) Cindy "Mac" Sinclair has spent her whole life as an '09er, but she hasn't let her zip code define her. Choosing not to follow in the steps of her stuck up, social-status focused peers, she lives life on her terms, with her two best friends, Logan and Dick, at her side. Life was good. Life was easy. Until it wasn't.
Beacon for the Dark Side
-Novel-
[1]
Mac tipped her head back, eyes closed, and let the sun beat down on her face, her hands wrapped loosely around either side of her board. Water beaded on the tops of her thighs and slid down the slope of her back. Her hair was tied back in a braid, waterlogged and heavy as it hung between her shoulder blades. She'd forgotten her sunblock and she could already feel the burn on her shoulders, but she lingered a while longer, letting the heat sink deep into her skin, and kicked her legs, enjoying the way the water sloshed against her.
Today was the first day of summer. And what a summer it would be. The last few months had been… difficult, to say the least.
Truth be told, she spent most of it keeping Logan from drowning himself in a pool of his own vomit.
Lilly Kane's death was still clinging to him; Mac couldn't exactly blame him. It hadn't been that long ago, had it? Just four months ago, it seemed like Lilly and Logan were inseparable, always attached at the hip, or the lips, and with a fake-gagging Mac not far behind. Dick snorting with laughter beside her. But, despite never considering Lilly her friend, Mac still felt a pang at knowing she was well and truly dead. Murdered, in fact. It was a pretty intense scene. She remembered seeing footage of it when actual recordings of the police investigation were sent out and the whole school got an eyeful of a very dead Lilly Kane, lying beside her pool, her head bashed in and her eyes vacant. Mac wouldn't say she had the best impression of Lilly, but seeing her so lifeless, so quiet and still and without the usual carefree disposition she portrayed each day was a sight worth reeling over.
So, she and Dick did their best to keep Logan from falling to pieces over the loss of, what he called, the love of his life. Mac wouldn't bet money on that, but she was a cynical teenager, so sue her. The important part was that Logan believed it, and that was why she spent much of the last few months stroking his hair as he cried in her lap over how perfect and sweet and innocent she was, or rubbing his back and passing him water as he blew chunks in her toilet from his latest get-drunk-and-forget-everything benders. She was pretty sure he spent more time sleeping off hang-overs in her bed than he did his own, but she wouldn't be kicking him out anytime soon. There was a reason Logan was her best friend. Sure, he could be mean and he regularly made others feel beneath him, but once she had his friendship, he was loyal to a fault. She couldn't force him to be nicer to people, but she did recognize that he tried to be less of an asshole around her. At least until recently, when he seemed to be letting his asshole flag fly higher and brighter than ever. But she was trying to give him a little leeway there. He was still grieving, and he seemed to think he always would be. Of course, there was a difference between leeway and enabling, and she had reached her threshold.
"You plan on turning into a lobster, Mackalicious?"
Her lips quirked up at the corners and she opened her eyes, turning her head to see Dick floating a few feet away, the sun lit up brilliantly behind him, enough to make her squint until she raised a hand to block out the glare. "If I say yes are you going to make a joke about eating me…?"
His eyes narrowed at her playfully. "Who says it'd be a joke?"
She snorted, rolling her eyes, and kicked, sending water his way. "So I'm a little burned. I'll survive." She let out a long breath and leaned forward, resting her front on her board, her cheek sinking into the cool, lapping water. "What're you doing out here? I thought you and Cassidy had plans today…?"
He shrugged. "Did, but when I dropped by his room, he was already gone." He flicked some water at her to get her to look at him. "Logan all right?"
"Mm-hmm. He's sleeping it off. I left a bottle of water on the night stand and some Aspirin. Who knows, he might roll out of bed before three today."
Dick nodded, frowning. "He's been crashing at your place a lot…"
"What's new?" She pushed back up to sitting and rolled her shoulders, scooping up some water to rub over her too-warm skin. "You should come over, we'll make it into the only threesome I wouldn't turn down," she joked, winking at him.
He snorted. "No offense to Logan, but there's one dude too many in that sandwich."
"Don't you mean one dick too many?"
He smirked at her. "There's never too much Dick, Mackie, you know that."
Scoffing, she readjusted her seat on her board. "Uh-huh, well, I can think of a few girls who might argue different." She jutted her chin back toward the beach. "C'mon… I'll race you back. Loser buys breakfast and wakes Logan up."
"You're on! "
Mac splashed him in the face to distract him before she took off, paddling herself back toward the shore, her belly on her board.
"Cheater!" he cried dramatically.
Mac bit her tongue as she laughed, happy in her head-start.
She did, as per usual, win, even if he would argue that point vehemently. In fact, he chased her up the beach, her laughter trailing behind her as she ducked and avoided his reaching arms. She was panting when he finally caught her, an arm around her waist, and swung her up into the air.
Mac laughed, her head throw back, landing on his shoulder. She was dripping wet, her back slippery against his chest. He was warm, like the sun on her face and the grains of sand clinging to her feet. Dick Casablancas was, as per usual, a physical embodiment of SoCal. He smelled like sweat and sea water, his skin was tanned gold, his hair a sun-kissed, sandy-blond. When he dropped her back to her feet, his arm keeping her close to his side, she looked up at him and saw the only redeeming qualities about Neptune and the '09er zip code. He grinned down at her, boyish and, seemingly, worry free. If ever there was a boy who made 'whatever' a life code, it was him. Nothing ever seemed to hurt him; rolling off his back with no effect. She envied his ability to be so content with whatever life handed him. But then, aside from a drunken, grief-ridden best friend, her life wasn't much to complain about.
"You're still buying breakfast," she told him as they made their way back to where their boards had been discarded in the sand.
Dick pressed a hand to his heart as if wounded. "Fine, but you're waking Logan up. Last time I tried, he took a swing at me."
"If I remember correctly, you swung back," she reminded, an eyebrow raised.
Dick winked. "It was instinct."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, well, no boxing matches today. I'll get him up."
Dick gave a dramatic bow, arm tucked over his stomach. "As you wish."
With a snort, she hauled her board up. "Never should've made you watch that."
Grinning at her cheesily, he grabbed his own board and they made their way up the beach, reaching over to shove each other at random.
"Rise and shine," she said, tossing the curtains of her bedroom windows open.
A long, pained moan returned from her bed, Logan's head ducked down under the covers and the lump of her pillow telling her he'd stuck it beneath there, too.
Rolling her eyes, Mac knelt on her bed and crawled across it. "Come on, it's almost eleven. I've been up three hours already. We missed breakfast at McD's; Dick won't stop whining about it."
"You don't even like McDonald's," Logan muttered tiredly. "No vegan options."
"I don't like it for a number of reasons, but that doesn't change the fact that Dick is buying us breakfast, and we're running out of options the longer you stay in bed…" She reached for his shoulder and gave it a shake.
Grumbling, he curled up tighter into a ball beneath the blanket. "There are 24-hour breakfast joints all over the place. Lemme sleep."
"I would, but my stomach has started to revolt. It's picketing inside me and it's trying to convince my other vital organs to join. It's a growing rebellion, Logan. Are you going to leave me to die on the front lines or save my life?"
A long pause answered her and then, with a sigh, he tossed the blanket back and flipped the pillow off his head. "You're a cruel, cruel bed buddy, have I ever told you that?"
Mac sat back on her feet and hummed disagreeably. "I maintain that I share 50/50, sometimes even 40/60 when I'm generous and you feel cuddly."
He pursed his lips at her. "You make a good teddy bear."
Grinning at him, she said, "So I've heard."
"Dick's buying?"
She nodded. "I beat him in a race."
"You cheated?"
"Duh."
He smirked lazily. "Atta girl…" He reached up and pressed a knuckle to the corner of his eye. "Brings a small tear…"
Chuckling, she hopped off her bed. "Come on… Dick's been racking up mom-points. If I leave him out there too long, she might adopt him."
Logan frowned. "Yeah, I don't think he'd like that… It'd make a few things on his bucket-list illegal."
Mac quirked her head. "Do I wanna know?"
He stared at her a moment, eyes narrowed. "Not yet. Soon. But not yet."
"Cryptic. I'll take it." Turning on her heel, she walked to the door. "Get dressed and meet us outside."
"Anyone ever tell you you're demanding?" he called after her.
"Often," she replied cheerfully.
Not long later, the three of them, one of whom was wearing the darkest pair of sunglasses possibly ever made, sat around a table at an air conditioned restaurant, menus in hand and orange juice served up. She pursed her lips when Logan tipped a bottle over to give his OJ an extra kick.
He frowned right back at her. "If you had the headache I do right now, you wouldn't be making that face at me…" he muttered.
"See, that might work, if you didn't bring said headache onto yourself." Leaning forward in her seat, Mac crossed her forearms over each other. "I've been patient. I've cleaned up your vomit. I've possibly given you a life-scarring sponge bath to avoid said vomit before you stole half of my bed. Speaking of, I've given you half my bed for months now. But Logan, this has to stop. Seriously. I know you loved Lilly. I won't argue with you about it. And if you ever want to talk about it, I will grow a second vagina to accommodate the estrogen overload. But this—" She motioned to his orange juice and then his sunglasses. "It stops. Now. Immediately. No more coddling, no more drinking yourself into oblivion, no more crying yourself to sleep every night. You wanna stay over, fine, but I'm not holding your proverbial hair back as you upchuck your liver. Clear?"
He stared at her a long moment. "Crystal," he said, succinctly.
She continued to stare at him a long moment before finally thrusting her hand out, pinkie raised.
"Oooh…" Dick said. "She's callin' out the big guns."
Logan sighed, frowning down at her hand, but finally reached over, wrapping his pinkie finger around hers. "Happy?"
Reaching over, she took his orange juice from him and waved down a waitress. "We're gonna need a new one of these," she said, handing over the glass. Thanks."
Despite himself, Logan slowly smiled, nodding at her, and gave her pinkie one last squeeze.
Mac grinned back at him.
A pinkie swear was unbreakable, at least between them, which meant he would do whatever he could to survive this, and that was all she was asking for.
"So?" Dick asked as they walked out of the restaurant, his hand rubbing circles on his newly stuffed belly. "What're we doing for our first day of freedom?"
"Well, first we're bathing, because one of us smells like vomit and regret, and the other two smell like sea water."
"Why, Mackie, I didn't know you felt this way… Will we all fit in the shower?" Logan teased.
"I fit me and three girls in my shower, but Mackie's is kinda small. I took out every bottle when I tried playing shower guitar last week," Dick offered.
Logan grinned, snorting under his breath. "At least one of those stories is worth telling…"
"Bon Jovi. Wanted, Dead or Alive. Classic. At least until I did the twist…" Dick leapt and twirled mid-air for their viewership. "Took out everything with my elbow, tripped on that loofah-thing, nearly broke my nose on the glass door…" He sighed, shaking his head. "War wounds, dudes."
Mac let out a long-suffering sigh. "A) That is not a war wound. B) Who air-guitars in the shower? Especially if they plan on jumping around in water. You're lucky you didn't slip. And C) why and when were you using my shower?"
Dick rolled his eyes at her. "A) Is too. B) Shower-guitars, and obviously not you. Also, I have awesome balance, so whatever. C) Couple weeks ago. Your place is closer to the beach. I was surfing. Mama Mackie was home. We hung out for a while, talked, she asked me how school was and then told me to shower up in your room. Tres awesome."
"Seriously, mom's not Mama Mackie. She'd be Mama Sinclair. Or Mama Ginny."
"Doesn't sound as good. Alliteration is good for the soul," Dick argued, shaking his head.
Mac clucked her tongue at him, shaking her head.
Looping her arms with his and Logan's, she said, "Okay, new plan. We each go to our separate homes and shower." She raised her hands when they started to protest. "It's either that or we all shower at Dick's, with Dick, since apparently he can fit us all in. Otherwise, it'd save us time to get our showers separately before we start planning, oh, just a bonfire to end all bonfires."
"I'm still up for the three-way shower…" Dick offered. "As long as Logan keeps his shorts on."
"I'm offended. How can I be expected to keep my shorts on around you, Richard?" Logan batted his eyes at Dick snarkily.
Mac snorted. "Well, I'm not taking my shorts of around either of you. So, separate showers it is."
"Lame," Dick sighed.
"You'll survive, Big Guy. This is just one of hundreds of rejections from Mac and there's many more to come." Logan grinned.
"Charming. Now, hustle." Mac looked up at Logan then. "And you, take something for your headache. I need you in prime planning mode. This bonfire needs to be epic."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you care about throwing epic parties for '09er's and guests?"
Mac scoffed. "Screw those jerks." She raised a finger to Dick and, without even looking at him, said, "Figuratively, not literally." Returning her attention to Logan, she continued, "You've had a rough year. This summer is going to turn that around, all right? So we need something big to ring it in with. Bonfire it is." She raised her fists in the air and said, "Huzzah."
Grinning at her, Logan and Dick exchanged a look, and then returned, "Huzzah!"
Mac let herself into the Echoll's house without so much as a knock. She joked that it was the size of a mausoleum, but Logan said that was the best part; it echoed.
Making her way toward Logan's bedroom, Mac detoured when she heard singing, and soon found herself in kitchen, where Leticia Navarro was cleaning out the fridge, humming to herself, periodically breaking out in full chorus. It was in Spanish, meaning Mac's ability to understand her was more than a little weak, but the tune was nice.
"Hey, Mrs. Navarro, you need any help?" Mac piped up, walking closer.
Leticia looked up, smiling as she spotted Mac. "Thank you, Cindy, but I've been cleaning longer than you have been alive. If anybody needs help cleaning a fridge, it would be me helping you."
Mac merely grinned, raising her hands in defeat. "All right. You caught me. These hands are much better at hacking than they'll ever be at cleaning. I bow graciously to your superior talent."
Leticia chuckled to herself and then nodded her chin toward the hallway. "If you are looking for Mr. Logan, he is in his room."
"I was. Thanks." Mac saluted her in farewell before turning on her heel and making her way down the hall, her arms out and her hands dragging along the walls absently. In the four years she and Logan had been friends, she'd long memorized every inch of his house. Which, she would like on record, was a feat, considering how little time Logan liked to spend in his house. Far more prone to showing up, unannounced, at her place, he'd had an easier time memorizing her not-so-humble abode.
Coming to a stop in front of his bedroom door, she knocked once, paused, knocked twice, tapped once, paused, and knocked again.
He was grinning when he held the door open, board shorts on and hair still dripping onto his shoulders from the shower. "Weren't we a little old to be making up secret knocks when we met?"
"According to Dick, you're never too old for that." She pushed past him into his bedroom and crossed to his desk, taking a seat in the chair and propping her feet up.
"Please, come in, make yourself at home," he said sarcastically, before swinging his door closed and turning to face her. He walked over to his bed and pulled on a pair of socks as he eyed her curiously. "So? I thought we were meeting up at Dick's?"
"We are." She shrugged. "But I wanted to check in with you, see how you were doing…"
"Well…" He let out a dramatic sigh. "Dear Diary, my drunken debauchery of the last few months has come to an end. Tear. My tyrant of a best friend, aka Cindy Sinclair, aka Sin-Squared, aka Lydia Deetz—"
"Fast forward," Mac interrupted.
Logan grinned. "—has unceremoniously kicked me from my bed of sorrow and expects me to return to the straight and narrow."
She snorted.
"Unfortunately for me, we did pinkie swear on it, so I'm required, by best friend law, to abide by the rules laid out. Said rules are a little hazy, however; I was rudely stripped of my hangover-cure and can't recall the specifics…" He tapped his chin, eyes turned up in faux-thought.
Mac shook her head. "I'm not going to follow behind you with a strict no-fun rule. All I'm saying is that moderation might be key here. I want you to have fun. I just don't want you to have so much fun there's none left for anyone else…" She shifted her seat and picked up one of his pencils, playing with it to distract herself.
"Is that concern I hear?"
"Of course not." She wrinkled her nose at him. "I'm an 09'er, concern is disdainful…" she drawled dramatically.
He laughed under his breath and rested his elbows on his knees a moment, just watching her. "I know I haven't said it, but… thanks, for keeping an eye on me, helping me out these last few months. I know you didn't sign up for babysit Logan duty, but I guess someone had to pull the short stick."
Mac frowned at him. "It's not like it was a chore… Did I enjoy cleaning up your puke or staying up 'til 4 am the night before I had a pretty serious calc test…? No, not one of my shiny memories. But I'd do it again." She shrugged. "Me and Lilly weren't friends. I don't… I can sympathize, but I'll never know what that feels like, to lose someone you love. At least, I hope I won't. So I'm trying to be understanding, 'cause that's what I'd want. But there's a line. There's gotta be a line."
"You've always been my line, Mackie…" He stared at her meaningfully. "You're the 'don't walk too far onto the dark side or I won't be able to pull you back' line… You keep us grounded."
She half-smiled at him. "Good. Wouldn't want you to float away."
His mouth turned up on the side. "You know you're my best friend, right?"
Smirking at him, her eyes narrowed mischievously. "Even more than Duncan?"
Logan grinned, shaking his head. "Well, it wasn't Duncan sharing his Care Bears with me these last few months…"
"Hey!" Her brows hiked. "We agreed to never talk about that. I can't believe you went rooting around in my closet."
He shrugged. "Drunk-Logan is a scavenger."
"Yeah, well, Drunk-Logan is also a big fan of Good Luck Bear."
"I maintain that it was the green that caught my eye. And, in my drunken stupor, I mistook that clover for a pot leaf."
Mac snorted. "You keep telling yourself that."
He smirked. "Be honest, though… Which one is Dick's favorite?"
She tipped her head at him, pursing her lips.
"Come on… I know Dick. He must've found your secret stash. He's a snoop."
"He's not a snoop," Mac defended. "He just doesn't understand why anyone needs to have secrets. He has no shame. He's shameless."
"Well, let's hear it, what's the scoop? What bear does he cuddle with when you won't give him the cuddles he's starved for?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Mac rolled her eyes. "For your information, he didn't have to go snooping; Dick actually bought me just about all of my collection. My dad got me the first one, Hopeful Heart Bear, and Dick found it, stuffed under my bed. He teased me about it, but you know Dick. Anyway, he bought me Best Friend Bear and, I don't know, it just kind of became a thing after that…" She shrugged, plucking at a loose string on her jeans. "He always uses Love-A-Lot bear as a pillow."
Logan nodded, smiling to himself. "Figures."
She cast a curious look at him. "What does?"
He shook his head, looking entirely too amused with her. Mac hated when he gave her that look.
Blowing out an irritated sigh, she chose to drop that particular subject and return to the one before it. "So if I'm at the top of the list and Duncan makes at least top 3, where does Dick fit in?"
Logan pulled his shoes on. "Y'know, I wonder sometimes, how close me and Dick would be if it wasn't for you…"
Mac frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… Yeah, we're both '09ers, so it's a given, but… I don't know. Life without Mackie. It'd probably be Duncan at the top and everybody else just kind of… window-dressing."
"That's disturbing, and upsetting. No Logan without Mac. No Mac without Logan." She tucked her hands under her chin and batted her eyes at him. "Where would you be without me?"
"Probably under a bridge somewhere." He shrugged. "It happens. Oh, how the mighty fall."
Mac grinned, shoving herself up from her chair. "All right. That's enough of that. We should head over to Dick's. Leave him alone too long with ideas of fire in his head and you're asking for trouble."
Logan snickered as he stood from his bed to follow her, pulling a t-shirt on as he went. "Speaking of, is this a flyer-party, or an all-is-welcome?"
Mac looked at him over her shoulder. "It's a Sin-Squared Siesta," she told him, grinning. "Freaks welcome, check your privilege before your feet hit sand."
He shook his head, but smiled all the same. "You know, you keep letting them think they're part of us, they might just revolt against the system."
Mac rolled her eyes. "So let's welcome them to the dark side with beer and questionable music."
Throwing an arm around her shoulders, he hugged her to his side. "As you wish," he said.
Sighing, she shook her head. "Never picking the movie for movie night again..."
Logan laughed, hustling her out the door.
They had an epic bonfire party to put together, last minute, and, given it was a free-for-all-to-intend, as was Mac's general rule, they were going to need a lot more alcohol than usual. But, all things considered, epic was exactly what they all needed, and the summer promised to be exactly that.
a/n: just to clear up any confusion, this will have a mac/dick romance plot. I'm just laying the ground work right now, but it'll definitely be a defining characteristic throughout. I hope you like how it's going so far. I'm enjoying writing the logan & mac friendship, especially.