Journal Entry #4

Today I had a major reality check. Logan told me about everything he did yesterday. This is going to take some serious processing.

We argued about the car first because that was the easiest to deal with. It didn't take long before I finally caved. I don't have a car of my own here and his would be sitting idle. Why not enjoy the thrill of the ride? Besides, we've made some pretty great memories in that car already. As hard as it will be to have the car taunting me and telling me that he's gone, it will also serve to remind me how much I almost lost. How worth the wait he is.

When Logan said he'd listed me as his next of kin, I was touched. Then when he told me what all that entailed as far as the Navy was concerned and all the other things he'd set up, I about lost it. I just got him back. I can't deal with the thought of possibly losing him now. I held myself together, though, somehow. This whole deal is definitely going to take some time and some thought for me to get used to.

The one thing I made him promise was that he would take the rest of his time here as leave. I don't want to miss another second with him when these could be our last. I know that sounds morbid but I'm scared. I don't want to go it alone. Why, oh why, did he have to grow up to be everything I ever wanted in a guy? It's a Catch-22, a stab in the back, and like someone spitting in my eye. If he were still who he once was, I wouldn't love him any less but we wouldn't be where we are today. It's because of who he is, what he's made of himself, that we are where we are in this anxiety-ridden predicament. Damn it all, Logan Echolls! Why did you have to go and find a way to really live out your goddamn hero complex?

As scared as I am, though, I'm more proud than anything. He's flown in wars, fought in battles, even saved people's lives. And not just my dad's, although for that one I'll be eternally grateful. His self-destructive streak seems to be gone with bravery and confidence takings its place. So many changes, almost all for the good. Yet somehow the best part of all is that he's still the smart and snarky jackass that I already knew.

I told him he should take leave until it was time for him to go. He agreed with one condition: that if he was staying away from his job, I had to stay away from mine. I didn't think that would be a problem. I thought we could make that work just fine. Turns out, of course, that I was wrong. Thankfully, he took it like a good sport and instead of getting angry, he teased me and tagged along.

The call that I got was a heads up from Cliff. There was a new detail that had come to light with dad and Sacks' case. He thought he might have started to pick up a trail regarding who the driver of the truck was and who had hired him. Logan and I followed the bunny trail as far down the rabbit hole as we could get but it turned out to be a dead end. Frustrated and annoyed, we called it quits and headed back to the house again.

We spent the rest of the day lounging around, watching movies, and eating Chinese takeout. It was nice to know that while so much had changed it was the little things that hadn't. He's still him and I'm still me and we can both still banter with the best of them. I talked him into going out with Mac and Wallace tomorrow. Of course, he only agreed if he could bring Dick. Dick, Mac, Logan, and Wallace. This should be all sorts of fun. Remind me, if we should survive, that we should probably not try to press our luck again. No way in hell could it be a good idea to tempt fate twice.

Today was mostly filled with tenderness. Hand-holding, face touching, shoulder bumping, hip checking. We talked more than anything. Which is good considering we're grown-ups now but it was really odd, too. I mean, how can so much have changed but so little be different between the two of us? Sarcastic or not, he definitely wasn't wrong when he said we were slipping right back into our old rhythms. At the same time, it's not entirely true, either. I don't know how to explain it. I've never been good at this self-analysis shit. It's like, we are who we were but without quite so much baggage. With a little more confidence and a lot more knowledge of who we are and who we want to be.

Of course, I was running from who I was until recently, but we'll pretend that side of me no longer exists and say that I've learned my lesson. I have, you know, but that doesn't mean I won't have to learn it again. Or, at least, keep reminding myself that I've learned it and train myself not to run.

We kissed, we touched. He took every opportunity to make me blush. We hung out on the couch. We lounged on the bed. We had fries for a snack, ice cream sundaes from Amy's for dessert. It was a good day. Bittersweet in ways but good.

We actually didn't have sex today and that was ok. All the talking and touching and kissing and snuggling was almost as intimate, maybe even more so. Of course, I woke up in the middle of the night which is why I'm writing now. I've been thinking about things and watching Logan sleep. After being without him for so long, I don't know how I'll do it. This six month deployment thing. How in the world did I live without him for so long? And how will I do it again? It's like a piece of me was missing but I was too stubborn to see it. I mean, sure I can live without him. I think I did at least prove that. But why would I want to? At what cost would it come?

...

Soooo, I stopped staring and I went to him. I kissed him awake and I turned him on. Not that it took much but still. I slid my hand down his chest, over his hip, and brought it to rest upon his thigh. I pressed myself close. My knee between his legs, giving myself room. Before he was fully aware, he was automatically responding in kind. He rolled us to our sides, brushed my hair behind my ear. His lips tickled my lobe and I could hear the smirk in his voice as he whispered, "You should always wake me up like this."

I chuckled and slugged him in the shoulder which caused him to laugh but then we were making out like we were teenagers again. His mouth broke away from mine as he entered me and I gasped at my body's automatic response. It was his turn to watch me as he moved slowly above me, setting a firm but steady rhythm. I clung to him, his fingers brushing at my hair, smoothing it back from my forehead. His lips were warm and soft to the touch as they pressed gently to my temple.

The backs of his fingers brushed my cheek and I could taste the remnants of his minty toothpaste when I caught his tongue with mine. As the passion of our kisses grew, so did the pressure building between us. When he reached between our bodies to press to fingers against my nub, I groaned and bucked and couldn't help but cry out, "Oh fuck!"

That set him off and he finally lost control. His movements became jerky and erratic, peppered with heavy breathing, grunts, and growls. I hung on tight and arched my back, my whimpers urging him on. With three more strokes, he finished me off, my body squirming and writhing beneath him. He didn't last long after I cried out his name, tumbling straight off the cliff right after.

Hugging me close, he gradually regained his breath. His eyes sparkled when he finally looked at me and said, "WOOF!"

All I could do was laugh. I slugged him in the shoulder again and shook my head, then grinned, and said, "You've got that right!"

I rested my head on his shoulder with a sigh and realized that as much as it would suck, as much as it would hurt, being together was what I wanted and I'd do anything to make it work.