Bookworms

Date/Timing: 22 June 2016
Setting: Sydney Mini 'Dome; Hong Kong, China
Based on this.
Logan's book is this.
On Day Three of Life in the Shatterdome, Logan nurses a sore jaw—he's /ancient, but Oldest Hansen can still land a punch—by ditching some kinda etiquette seminar and tucking up in an empty neutral territory storage room with his glasses (the risk's worth avoiding the headache) and a book. 
Footsteps on the decking outside.
Logan ducks lower behind the hardback, watches the door with his peripheral.
Someone with a holy /shit-ton of decorations on a snappy uniform strides past, footsteps ringing.
Logan relaxes, lowers—
The footsteps stop, reverse.
—fumbles at his glasses—
Decorations—it's a fucking /marshal shit shit shit—stops in the door, looks him up and down.
—gives up, tosses the book off somewhere, scrambles to his feet, croaks, "Sir?"
Marshal says, "What're you reading?"
Logan blinks and the Marshal's kinda blurry because the fucking glasses are still on his face and stammers, "Reading? Sir?"
Marshal cracks a smile (probably?). "The one you threw across the room."
"Oh. Right. Sir." Dives for it, tucks it under his arm. "Gilbert, /Game Without Rules. Sir."
"I'm not familiar with that one." Marshal looks thoughtful(?).
"Espionage. Spies. Uh, British."
Marshal definitely cocks his head. "No Bond for you?" 
Logan shrugs. "Just finished the whole set again and needed a change."
"You said 'again'?"
"Probably read those at least a dozen times already."
"Reeeeally?" 
"They're kinda my, uh, favourites."
Marshal smacks his hand on Logan's shoulder—
Logan startles, checks a reflexive swing.
Book slips free and hits the floor.
Marshal lets go, bends—
Logan doesn't bash their heads.
—hands it back.
"Thanks. Sir."
Then the Marshal's grabbing Logan's shoulder and turning him and pushing him ahead of him where cadets /do /not /walk because this is a fucking /marshal and Logan is probably soooo fucking dead now. 
"We need to chat. Let's go to my office," says Marshal.
"Yes. Sir," croaks Logan. He manages the glasses, gets them in a pocket, breathes very deeply through his nose, fighting down rising static.
They're marching along and Marshal's grilling him about books and reading and stuff and everyone they pass is staring and oh god Logan's going to die before he even gets to see another Kaiju up close. 
And then they're in the Marshal's offices and the door's closing and he's getting stuffed into a visitor's chair and the Marshal's behind his aircraft carrier of a desk and grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
Marshal leans forward, says, "Tell me all about what you've been reading."
Logan rubs his neck. "Well, uh, sir, there're these two British counterspies ...."
== Epilogue ==
That afternoon, Thomas arrives for tea with Marshal Xiong, takes his offered seat and her offered baby.
"I hear you met one of your new Rangers today," says Xiong.
"I did." Boops Fei Yen's nose.
She beams around her tongue.
"Logan Jones?"
Xiong sighs into her teacup.
"He seems like a nice young man—"
Xiong coughs on her tea.
"—more bookish than I expected and far less aggressive than Chantell's report."
Xiong dabs at her nose. "Doesn't she still have that black eye?"
"Probably an exaggeration." Shrugs, bounces Fei Yen. "I haven't seen her since Monday—"
Fei Yen spits up.
== Epilogue the Second ==
That evening, Logan Jones saunters out of Dad's office, whistling happily through a busted lip.
Telly glares at him.
He—no surprise—ignores her completely and heads off. To pick /another fight, probably.
Dad schlumps into the visitor's chair beside Telly's desk.
She waits for it.
"Logan Jones is not at all bookish," he says sadly.
"What did you expect?"
"I thought it was an exaggeration, but ...," he sighs.
"Did you read my report? He lit into someone, got me by mistake and knew it, and didn't even give a crap!"
Mournfully, "I wanted a fellow bookworm."
Telly rolls her eyes.
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