Ok, as much as I love them, the tags have to go. I thought the wrist would do - first I wore them around my neck, but that was not a good idea. The others stared. And they were right - it's dirty. I really shouldn't. But I like them so much. So they went to the wrist. Left, where the heart is.

But as much as they mean to me, they have to go now. I'll give them back to Logan; after all, they are his prize possession. He can take them until I can wear them again, one day. "These are yours." There they go.

He gives me a weird look. "You don't want them?"

"Yes, yes I do." I miss them already, the weight around my neck, looking at them and thinking about Logan when he's not around. "But Logan, look - I can't wear them."

He looks at the pieces of metal in his hand and wrinkles his brow. "Yeah. You're right. They are...filthy."

"Yes. It's only fair. You got someone's blood on them, you clean them. And I expect them back in good shape, mister." I sure do. They are my prize possession now, too.

"I'll get to it. Don't want anyone to think you're still up for the taking, darling."

I love those tags. But even more than that, I love their owner.