”Hey, Timmy! Hand me that hammer, would you.”
“Actually it’s Timothy Mortimer the Third…”
“I don’t fucking care what it is. Give me that fucking hammer!”
“This?”
“No. That’s a wrench.”
“This?”
“That’s a screwdriver.”
“You said the s-word! I’m telling miss Grey that you said the s-word!”
“I said quite a few f-words earlier. You wouldn’t mind telling her about that, too? Just give me the goddamned hammer!”
“This?”
“No. That’s a power drill. Listen, kid… Come over here and hold this banister. I’ll get the fucking hammer…”
“You said ‘drill’…”
“Yeah. So?”
“That’s a hammer? What do you need that for?”
“This banister got loose yesterday. I’m going to nail it back in place so you rugrats won’t fall down from up here.”
“Nail it? Miss Grey! Miss Grey! Mister Logan is swearing!”
“Jesus Christ… And they think I’m the pervert…”
“Hi. I heard Timmy screaming. What happened?” Marie asked, pushing the door of her room partially open.
“Call him Timothy Mortimer the Third or he’ll sic Jeannie on you too…” Logan muttered from between nails hanging from the corner of his mouth, holding the banister straight with one hand and trying to figure out how to use nails and the hammer with one hand only.
“Need a hand?” Marie asked, stepping out and grabbing the banister.
“Yeah. Thanks, ki… Marie.”
“Oh, for fucking shit…”
“Wouldn’t it work better if you hit the nail instead of your thumb?”
“You’re talking to a pro, darling… Oh, fuck!”
“Yeah. That’s… I was going to come and talk to you about that.”
“About what?… Oh fucking-shit-unbelievable!”
Hammer flew in the corner. He glared at the last nail still sticking out from the banister, then slammed it down with his bare palm, wincing when the nail scraped against his bones before going in.
“Exactly my point. You have got to stop doing that!” Marie huffed, kneeled beside him and took his hand on her own, her fingers smoothing over the already vanishing bruises.
“Doing what?” He asked, sucking in unneeded breath when her fingers skimmed over his still healing palm.
“Stop hurting yourself.”
“It didn’t hurt. Much.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter! If there’s a way to do things without hurting at all…”
“Scott put you in to this?” Logan asked, glancing around sharply.
“Scott? I haven’t talked with him since he kicked me out from the team… Why would you think Scott made me talk with you?” She asked, her eyes narrowing.
“You haven’t talked with me since I kicked you out from my team.”
“I have talked with you several times after that!”
“Not like this. Saying hello or growling doesn’t count.”
“I do not growl!”
“Yes, you do. It’s kind of creepy. I have been meaning to ask you to stop it.”
“I do not growl!”
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t… For fuck’s sake, Logan! If you think you can avoid talking with me by distracting me, it doesn’t work,” she huffed standing up and stretching her back. He couldn’t help noticing she was lacking underwear, her bra exactly, and anger had made her nipples peak out. Tight T-shirt did nothing in hiding them.
**I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumours**
“Talking about distractions… Kid, you probably want to continue this conversation in your room…”
“Huh?”
“You… You’re… Uh… They’re kind of standing up…”
“Logan, what… Oh! Oops…”
“Yeah. We better get in before somebody sees you and gets the wrong idea. There’s already enough rumors spreading around…”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Still with Depeche Mode. Same song as in the earlier chapter.