THE OBLIVIOUS MODE

By Yih

Chapter 8

It was close to midnight. There was nothing on TV to watch anymore other than insipid reruns that should never have been reborn. While there were some movies, they were all of the very bad variety. They were the type of movies that were so bad that they could only play at an ungodly hour lest they should hurt the eyes. Logan mercifully zapped the TV off.

I stared at him. He stared back. "So…"

"Yeah?"

"Are you tired?" I asked.

"Nope."

I sighed. "Tomorrow's Friday."

"Today's Friday," he corrected, nodding his head toward the clock that just

started to chime midnight. He smirked. "Forgetting your days?"

"It hadn't turned midnight yet when I said it was Friday."

"Excuses, excuses…"

I pressed my lips together tightly. I was going to ask him if he wanted to do

anything tomorrow--- I mean today with me, but if he was going to be difficult like that maybe it was better if I didn't ask. So there, Logan.

"Do you have any plans tomorrow?"

I swear, he can read my bloody mind. "No."

"Do you want to do something then?"

Yup, read my mind. "Maybe."

"We don't have to do anything if you'd rather do something else with someone else."

Hmmph. He was giving me an out. Problem was, he knew that I didn't want an out. He was doing this to make me confirm verbally that I did want to hang out with him. That there was no one else I'd rather spend my Friday night than with him. This was going to be another addition to his already immense ego.

"Well?"

"I do want to do something."

"Good." He grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"What do you want to do?"

He grinned. "What would you like to do?"

Anything, I almost said. Almost being a key word as there were things that I probably didn't want to do with Logan. If I said anything, I had a feeling he'd drag me to do something that I might end up enjoying but would undoubtedly leave me sore and tired. Logan might not look like the adventurous outdoor type, but he did do some daredevil things. I was more of a homebody, though he was almost one too.

"Um…" on the topic of being a homebody, what could we do at home? "Want to

rent some movies and eat loads of buttered popcorn?"

"No." The smile on his face was positively gorgeous. "We do that often enough that I'd like to do something different." Okay, that was a reasonable answer. We did do movie nights a bit much. Not as often as we had before, but often enough that it could be tiresome. As long as there was no traveling, I was all right with whatever. "Let's go somewhere."

Poop. I was hoping that traveling wasn't in the agenda. "Where could we go

when we only have two days and two nights?" I asked, feeling quite logical. "We can't really go anywhere."

"We have three days and three nights," Logan corrected. "I can take Friday off, and if needed I can take Monday off. I'll just have to work my ass off when I get back though, but all work can be put off for a time period and this is as good of a time as any."

My time argument went down the sewer. "What if I don't want to go anywhere?"

"Not even London?"

I perked up. Damn him for knowing my city weakness. The only other city I was weak on was maybe Paris. But who could resist the sexiness of the French? "But that's a 7 hour flight, and we don't have tickets."

"Rory," his voice was patronizing, "I can get tickets if I want them. You know that's not a problem."

Of course, he could exert his Huntzberger superiority over mere mortals and get

them to bend to his will. Why was I forgetting this? A Huntzberger could do whatever he

wanted whenever he wanted. What he wanted he got. "Logan, you are not going to displace some couple off their flight because you want to go to London on a last minute whim!"

There was an innocent what did I do expression on his face. "Who said I was going to displace anyone? I could always charter a private jet."

Outrageous expense! "What? You're going to waste that much money?" I sputtered. "Logan! Don't!"

"I am, and I will if I can't find a flight that leaves sometime before 9 a.m. with

two free seats," he declared in an unbreakable manner. "It's not as if I don't have the cash flow to do this, Rory. I earn quite a bit from my job, and I work hard for it."

He did. I'll give him that. He wasn't freeloading off his parents. He did work hard for the money that was his salary. Some of the rich had unbelievable work ethics. No wonder they were filthy rich. Yet not matter how much money he earned, he had no right to waste it on me.

"Even if you do earn quite a bit from your job, it's still no excuse to spend it on me," I grumbled.

"You know most girls would be ecstatic I was spending a large quantity of money on them," he remarked glibly. "But what makes you think I'm only spending the money on you? I'm riding first class, but you? You can ride in coach."

Nice threat, Logan, but I knew him and that kind of threat wasn't going to work on me. If he was cheap about anything (which he wasn't), he had been drilled from birth by his parents to be the consummate gentleman. If there was a first class and a coach ticket, he'd be riding coach and I'd be in first class. I smiled instead like I believed him.

"Stop complaining," he muttered, reading my smile for what it was, "and just be happy that I'm taking you to London."

"You still haven't gotten the tickets yet," I pointed out.

"Do you doubt that I can pull this off?"

I didn't doubt that he could, but… "Yeah." I liked being difficult.

-

"The arrival time expected at Heathrow is 11:51 pm…"

It was 12:36 and I was staring in mini-horror at the king size bed that Logan and I were going to have to share. According to the receptionist, there was no other room in the ritzy hotel that had double beds. As I refused to have Logan pay for another ostentatiously priced room, I decided to make due with the shared sleeping space scenario.

"Right or left?"

I stared at him. "What?"

He pointed to the bed. "Do you want the right or left side?"

"Uh…" I stared at the bed, "I…" very uncertain, "don't care."

"I should order more pillows and another comforter," he commented. I gave him a quizzical look that asked why. He smirked. I wasn't going to like his explanation. "You kick. The pillows are to protect me," he remarked. "And the extra comforter is because you hog everything, you greedy bitch." Yup, knew it. Didn't like the explanation.

"No, I don't!" I denied, though not very vehemently. I did kick, and I was greedy with the blankets.

He raised a challenging eyebrow. "Oh?" He licked his lips. "I would disagree most stringently. I remember that time when I had you spend the night when we were little kids; you took my comforter and kicked me in the stomach!"

Eh, well such was life.

"Right."

"What?"

"I want the right."

"Okay."

I hopped onto my side. He slid into his. I snagged all the pillows. He glanced at the pillows I was currently hoarding. I pouted. He frowned. I threw one pillow at him. "Go to sleep," I commanded.

"Bossy."

"For your own good," I retorted. "Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

"Oh really?"

"Uh huh." I had planned everything I wanted to see and it was a lot. A ton.

-

The Tower of London was chilling. I had a wonderful time. It was far better than the rest of the tourist sites we'd seen. Logan, on the other hand, didn't seem to enjoy traipsing around prison cell to prison cell being told by a guide where those that were beheaded once lived the last days of their lives. But he didn't complain, and I reveled in the history.

"Had enough of blood and guts and more bloody tales?" he asked when we reached the end of the tour. "Or would you like to go in one more and hear the guide tell the same story with even more gory details?"

I poked his stomach.

"What?"

"That's a waste of money."

"Well considering how much you enjoyed the first go round," he muttered. "I assume the second time around you'd still enjoy it."

I rolled my eyes. "I've seen it once, and besides there's Madame Tussaud's to go to." Impish grin. "Think of me standing next to Prince William." The exaggerated sigh out of me caused Logan to grit his teeth. "And you'd be a dear and take a picture, wouldn't you?"

"I still don't see," he grumbled, "what the big deal about some heir to a throne that supposedly looks good. If he wasn't a prince, he wouldn't even be considered that handsome."

"Jealous much?" I teased.

"Nothing to be jealous of," he retorted. "Marty has more handsomely attributes in a bone of his body than Prince William whatever-many-names Windsor has in his entire being."

I laughed. He was slightly jealous, but not much. He was more disgusted than anything. He was even saying Marty's name with a positive air and that was unusual. Actually, Logan had made an overwhelming point not to mention his name at all. He knew that even if I had been the one to end the relationship, I was still smarting over it. While it hadn't been nearly as seriously or as emotionally involved as Marty's part, I still felt bad.

"Egh," Logan mumbled, "I shouldn't have mentioned him. Sorry."

I took a deep breath and smiled. "Marty is more handsome than Prince William, I'll have to agree. Not that he would care either way what is said, his Kincaid ego is nothing compared to your Huntzberger arrogance."

"Does he even have an ego?"

"He does, a musical one."

"Ah, that would make sense." He chuckled. "So Madame Toussaud's wax museum is your next request, is it?"

"It is."

He offered his arm. "Then shall we go?"

I took it.

-

"Where to now?" I asked.

I had taken enough photos at Madame Toussaud's to fill a few albums to Logan's disgust. I had posed so many times; I was tired and ready to leave. I'm sure he was in complete agreement, considering he'd done the picture taking. The relieved expression on his face said everything.

"Anywhere."

"Anywhere?" I stated with a calculating tone.

He quickly amended his declaration, "Anywhere but another museum or spot like

that. I've had enough of site seeing."

I stuck my tongue out. "You're a bad tourist."

"I never said I was a good tourist."

I sighed. "True."

"So where to?"

I glanced at him carefully. Logan did look a bit worn out. I felt tired, but I could work past the tiredness because who knew when I'd be back in London? It wasn't as if I had the money to come here like the whim that had gotten me here in the first place. It might be a very long, long time before I ever came back. Two days was hardly enough time. Four would have been better, but the flying to and fro took up too many hours. But I knew Logan needed the rest. He didn't operate very well when he was exhausted. He tended to get grumpy then sick. And a sick Logan was a very bad thing.

"How about the hotel?"

Happy Logan smile. "Finally."

-

I closed my eyes. Logan stood behind me. Like Wendy, I wished that I might open the window and with the aid of fairy dust be able to fly by thinking of happy thoughts. It was a silly thought. It wasn't entirely random though. The tall townhouses I had seen on the cab back to the hotel reminded me of where I imagined Wendy growing up and I was standing by a tall window looking out at the London skyline.

"Did you have fun tonight at all the museums and Tower?"

"Mmm hmm."

He placed his hands on my shoulders. "What are thinking about?"

"Flying."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Flying to where?"

"Neverland."

He chuckled softly. "The land of eternal youth."

"Yes."

"And where adult problems don't plague you."

"Yes."

"London reminds you of that?" he inquired. "Of your childhood?"

"The townhouses and window do." I paused. "But London does too."

"You grew up here a bit when you were a little girl, it's not surprising."

I smiled wistfully, turning to face him. "For two years."

"Still two years is a bit of time to have memories."

"I haven't been here since I was 5," I murmured. "I don't have many memories."

He brushed his lips against my cheek. "But you've made more."

"I have," I agreed. "Thanks to you." I impulsively kissed both his cheek.

"You're welcome."

I stared into his unfathomable eyes. "You're wonderful."

TBC…

A/N: So how was that for a little extravagance on Logan's part? I can see him splurging on her, using his money to charm her, as well as his other "charms." And was the interaction cute?