AN: I am so glad you're liking the Finn and Charlie storylyne, because it's a lot of fun writing them. Thanks for all the reviews!
For the next couple of days there's some risk that I might be off the radar - so there might be some silence, but I personally still hope to find some time and decent wifi where I'm going to keep at it. Just so you know I haven't forgotten about this (because that is impossible).
"How's the fever?" Rory asked as she called Logan the next evening to check up on him.
"99.5," he replied, having now developed a stuffy nose instead. He looked sick, his nose slightly reddish, but his eyes were no longer as glassy.
"Good, you're body is fighting and winning," Rory replied confidently, having worried for a few days whether he might actually have something more serious than the common cold. She didn't like being away from him like this, not one bit - she felt powerless to help.
"I just want to get back to work…," Logan complained, "back home..," he added. There was nothing new either didn't know already too obviously.
"Any word from Owen yet?" Rory asked, hopefully.
"Not yet," Logan replied. "But I spoke to a few guys at the New York office who are coming in a week, they'll stay for at least a while to help out or consult if Owen decides to come too," he added.
"Good," Rory noted, feeling a little hesitant because she too needed to come clear about something. "Listen - Lisa called," she began, almost expecting Logan to let out a dissapointed sigh. He'd been nothing but supportive of her career throughout their time together, but with everything they had going on right now - she sensed this might just be too much for them.
"What's she offering?" he asked instead.
"A methodology course to teach with her and a 0.25 positions in a project of hers," Rory confessed.
"Starting when?" Logan inquired.
"Mid-January," she replied. "But I don't have to…," she began, wanting to save him the trouble to saying it. Rory had her own guilt to deal with when accepting this. Would there be enough of her to divide herself between all three kids, Logan and a job? Was that even humanly possible with a couple of six-month-olds? Sure they could get more help, but was that any better than Shira getting nannies and attending fundraisers instead? Rory's reasons were just a bit more career oriented. Would it mean her relationships with the kids would suffer in the future?
"Okay," Logan said simply. He knew she didn't really need his okay, it was rather just an acknowledgement.
"You think I could do it?" Rory asked, simply needing his confirmation.
"Absolutely - you can do anything, Rory," Logan assured. What he hoped, in fact, was that once he could return to the States he could pull back a little from work like he'd done before. Perhaps like this, this wouldn't be so bad? He was truly missing the kids. A couple of months was like a third of the girl's lifetime at this point. It was safe to say he was beginning to get a little desprate for Owen to call.
The place that they had chosen for snorkeling was by a shallow part of the bay, just 15 ft or so in depht, providing plenty to see without having to go much deeper. They stepped into the water straight off the boat, fins and all, Finn teaching her a few things to look out for just in case. Finn even had an small underwater scooter on the boat, but it became pretty clear that neither really needed it.
Charlie swam a little unconventionally, mixing up several styles, but she had no trouble staying afloat, maneuvering like a natural and on occasion diving deeper to explore. Finn really didn't bother much with snorkeling as such, mostly prefering to immerse himself deeper, skin diving until his breath lasted. Being under water was incredible calming - the blueness and the quiet filling the senses.
The reef was rocky but still provided plenty of colorful marine life to see - a small octopus, globefish, parrotfish, manta rays and stonefish among others.
Just like the day before, Finn kept a watchful eye on her, in case there was anything dangerous, making sure she didn't get caught up by the current that was a little tricky around these waters sometimes.
But as she watched the fish - or so he though - he mostly watched her. On occasion when she did fishtail kicks with her legs, the shape that her hips formed together with the fins almost made her look like a mermaid.
"You're like a fish you know that," Charlie laughed, as they both emerged from the water. Apparently she'd watched him too.
"You were pretty capable yourself, though I'm not sure what to call the style you did...," Finn chuckled in return.
"Well I never actually had formal swimming lessons so…," she explained with a shrug, while they both stayed afloat in one spot.
"Who taught you then?" Finn asked curiously.
"My grandpa. Surfing too," Charlie replied, and dived once more, having spotted a huge manta ray from above passing by just below them.
Finn followed her lead, observing the magnificent creature with her.
"I just followed my older brother around, picked it up on the go. I must've been pretty annoying back then," Finn recalled, as they both rose above water again.
"What's the age difference there?" Charlie asked, to get a better sense of the annoyment factor he was describing.
"Five years," he replied.
"It was pretty similar with me and Olivia. She was the cool popular teen and I was just... chubby and clumsy," she admitted.
Finn could tell that there was probably some hurt in that childhood - maybe bullying or something... if she'd put it like that. He just hoped she was past it. The way she moved in the water, or on land - this morning's slight incident in the kitchen excluded that could've really happened to anyone - there was nothing clumbsy about her. She was strong, quick-thinking, flexible and had the stamina to keep up with him. She wasn't just some flimsy barbie-doll that needed to be waited hand and foot, she had essence, moxie and tenacity.
She submerged once more and swam back towards the boat. They'd been in the water a while, in the meanwhile simply floating and chatting like just now, and they were both getting a little tired and hungry.
Finn followed, grabbing hold of the ladder while they both took off their fins one by one and tossed them over to the boat floor.
Charlie took the first step on the ladder. And another. "God, my feet are like jelly," Charlie squealed laughingly as slipped back down, having not anticipated it to be this slippery and her legs to feel that heavy.
It wasn't really an actual fall as she never really lost her grip on the ladder but it was still sudden enough for Finn to catch her. But his arm stayed around her, and she smiled, feeling a little silly for plunging back in the water like that. But the touch, the closeness and the look certainly created a moment of intimacy.
Neither had really looked at each-other up close like that before, Charlie noticing in detail now the small umbrella tattoo that he had just below his collarbone, covering up an old scar, and the way his blue eyes observed her while she studied his small imperfections. Finn noticed the color of her eyes again, the way her nose wrinkled when she smiled nervously, the few strands of grey her beautifully braided hair contained and again careful not to stare - how her unpadded halter neck bra really brought out her cleavage.
There was the gaze, that warm rush of energy resulting in a blush on her cheeks, the slight flutter in their guts, the slow draw that was almost magnetic. Finn hesitated like he'd probably never hesitated, but thankfully she didn't, trusting her instinct. While her one hand stayed on the ladder the other went around his neck and her lips crashed into his, and the initial shock of it was soon replaced by tenderness and then passion. The moment Finn felt her lips - he was a goner, any hesitation that had lingered was washed away by the current.
Finn kissed back more urgently, turning its innocence into something fervent, which led him to reposition her against the ladder, as his free arm encircled her waist, while there really were just a few thin layers of swimwear between them. There was a moment of universal oneness and the relief that neither had imagined this chemistry they felt, as the two melted into each other.
As they pulled apart, were left with a little coy smile on her lips and a grin that Finn couldn't get off his face, not saying a word. He didn't want to let go of the hold on her, but did, suddenly submerging under the water, leaving Charlie to worry for a moment if anything was wrong.
"I'll be up in a minute," Finn said as he came back to the surface some five ft from hera moment later, continuing to swim a few strokes.
Charlie bit her lip, getting a pretty good idea why he needed a moment, and climbed back onto the boat, beginning to dry up.
Logan had just finished another bowl of chicken soup, getting very tired of sitting around the hotel room all day. He tried to get at last some work done, but his eyes still ached and it really wasn't very productive.
The earlier conversation with Rory freshly in mind, he was pleasantly surprised to see Owen's name come up on his phone as it rang.
"Hey, Owen!" Logan greeted Owen, unable to hide his hopefulness that he was calling with good news.
"Hey," he replied.
Logan simply waited, hoping he'd explain his reasons for calling soon enough.
"Charlotte is on board," Owen admitted. "I guess now I just fully need to convince myself," he sighed, clearly it being a difficult decision for him.
"I'm not going to lie," Logan began, almost biting his lip. This was not really going to help to convince him, quite the opposite if anything. "The media attention can be a lot to handle in the beginning, but that's why there are press representatives. It'll take a lot of studying - I'm not saying you need it but a textbook is quite different from those things in practice," he continued. "There will be plenty of advisories, I'll be a phone call away and so will dad," Logan added, unsure if the latter was actually an opiton he wanted to depend on. Logan hadn't really inquired in depht how their conversation on that level had gone.
"What if I don't like it?" Owen asked. Logan had frankly never heard him as hesitantly as this, but he got it - it was a big decision. The media part being something that really couldn't have been undone if it got out. He'd always be Mitchum Huntzberger's son after that.
"Then Bobby will probably be back or we'll move in the advisories to do it themselves, there are a lot of other things that the business can offer - down to textbook publishing if that's what feels more you. That is if you are worried about giving up the teaching position. But we really don't want to force you into it. I was pushed into this, and I really hated it for a while. But it grew on me - it can be a lot to handle, it needs the right personality - and I do think you have that," Logan explained.
"Okay," Owen sighed.
Logan really wasn't sure whether that was the answer he'd been hoping for for a moment, but it was, as the next thing Owen said was more specific about their arrival dates already. The relief Logan felt was palpable.
Paris was sitting in the back yard of her West Hartford grey-brick late-1980s villa, wrapped into a blanket, a glass of wine in her hand on a reclining chair, enjoying the darkness and the quiet. Somehow in the evenings when the kids were already put to bed, she just couldn't stand being in that house, reminded by it's emptiness - outside in the cold it was better, the little icy needles she felt against her skin invigorating her.
She had her tablet in hand and instead reading or doing something else recreational, essentially she was working - browsing through online platform after another on the applicants she was trying to choose from. She'd settled on three final candidates on the two positions and now it was essentially down to any red flags or embarrassing youthful indiscretions one had left lying around online.
Vikki's research articles that she'd won several prizes for were really quite good, a little predictable, but as such - well executed - as Paris defined them to herself. But it was as she reached the time period 2010 to 2012 that she stopped in her path. On those articles from that period the name was not Vikki Irwing. It was Vikki DuGray. Her social media from that time was a bust, everything wiped clean or simply having never existed except for the announcement of the birth of her child, only posted on social media with one little picture of it's tiny toes.
Surely there were a lot of other DuGrays out there? Surely some suspicion of there being some complicated history, that didn't really seem relevant now was not enough reason to not hire her? Was finding her infuriating reasoning enough? - Paris pondered.