Logan scraps

== Forfeit ==
Date/Timing: pre-Lins at the Jaeger Academy
Setting: the Academy gym
"Logan," calls Ramos.
He steps forward.
"You're fighting Aleksis. What's your strategy?"
Logan shifts his weight back, sucks in his cheeks. "For a real fight or on the mats?"
"Tell us both."
Logan snaps a nod. "In an alley, I drop everything and /run." 
Nervous laughter.
"And?"
Logan sighs. "In a match, I forfeit."
"That doesn't sound like you."
"I haven't lived this long fighting fights I can't win." Shrugs.
"Why can't you win?"
"I don't hit hard enough to hurt him." Takes a deep breath. "He tags me /once and I'm /done. 's'not worth the risk to my health."
"Now say you can't forfeit or run. What do you do?"
"I stay out of his reach, whack at his joints when I can, and hope he's not fit as he looks."
More tittering.
"Try it." She steps out of the way.
Logan rolls his shoulders, steps onto the mats, calls, "'ey, Wall!"
He steps forward, bobs his head.
"Leave enough pieces for my gramma to bury, ay?"
Wall nods gravely.
"Thank ye kindly." Logan smiles, begins his circling.
== (In)Corporeal ==
See (In)Corporeal
== Summer-weight ==
Date/Timing: late December 2021 or early January 2022
Setting: a vacant room, The Shed; Vaucluse, NSW, Australia
Logan, knees hugged to chest, looks up at the knock on the spare room's door.
He waits a full two minutes before taking a deep breath and shoving off the mattress to his feet, shuffling across the room, and opening it.
No one there, but a small box on the top step.
- Per Nanny's suggestion -
in Jamie's loopy handwriting.
Logan picks it up, retreats inside.
Plunks on the bunk, crosses his legs, and tears it open
Assorted needles, bamboo fiber yarn.
Logan sighs.
Jack /could use another pair of summer-weight socks.
He takes up the needles and casts on.
==Recruiting Drive==
mid-December 2024
"And the sim'll do its thing for the next few hours," says Lightcap, "so you don't have to touch it. Anything else ...?" She glances around the lab.
"Doc, uh," Jackson yawns. "Sorry. Doc, ye don't hafta go through this /ev'ry time ye leave."
Logan nudges him.
"Yea, 'specially when it's jest fer class."
"Riiight." Lightcap gets to the door. "You two have intact brains. Gotta remember that."
Logan and Jackson exchange an 'oookay' look.
She heads out. "Be good!"
"We will."
Logan rolls his eyes.
"And, Jackson?"
"List'ning."
"Take a nap." Lightcap's smiling gently. "The nest's been washed twice since Chuck left. It's there and it's comfy; use it."
Jackson sighs—except it's more of a yawn.
"I'll take that as a 'yes, ma'am.' Adios, Logan."
Logan salutes.
And Lightcap's off.
Jackson slumps, rubs the back of his neck. "She may be onte somethin' with that nap idea." He yawns again, so widely his jaw cracks.
Logan offers an elbow.
Jackson links arms, pushes off the desk, teeters for a moment—
Logan reaches to catch him.
—finds his balance and hobbles toward the back room, towing Logan along.
He goes down onto the cushions gracelessly. "Oof." Flops onto his side and pulls the blankets up to his nose. "Ye know what to do if ...."
Logan gives a thumbs up, then crosses his fingers.
"Yea, thanks," he mumbles, closing his eyes.
Logan hovers a moment before wandering to his desk. He settles in, puts on his glasses, picks up Lightcap's "Artificial Environment Programming for Ex-Rangers" binder, gets his feet up on the desk, and starts reading.
After thirty minutes, he gets up, checks on Jackson.
Sleeping peacefully.
Back to the binder.
Thirty more minutes.
Binder's set aside.
Still sleeping well.
Back to reading.
It's nearly time for the next check.
The door handle clicks.
Logan glances at his watch.
Too soon for Lightcap.
Finds the sign, takes off his glasses, returns to 'reading.'
Someone clears their throat.
Logan holds up the sign: -Lightcap's Not Here-
Marshal Stacker Pentecost says, "Good afternoon, Mister Jones."
Logan waves the sign.
"I'm here to speak to you, actually."
Logan flips the sign around: -Not Interested-
"I think you will be."
Logan yawns.
"Will you hear me out?"
Digs out another sign, holds /it up: -Fuck Off- 
"The world's coming to an end, Mister Jones."
Logan lowers the binder, projects as loudly as he can, 'no, really?'
Pentecost steps forward, rests his hands on the back of the visitor's chair. "And you'd rather hide here as a lab rat?"
">Worked well enough fer Chuck." 
"You would stand by and watch the world burn when there's a Mark III Jaeger that needs a pilot."
">No copilot."
"I can find you one."
">Ye'll find Jack a new leg."
"I can't do that—,"
Logan flicks up the binder like he would a newspaper, grabs the first sign, and spins it with a flourish: -Not Interested-
"Mister Jones—,"
Logan slams to his feet, leans across the desk into Pentecost's space. ">Don't you 'Mister Jones' me. I'm not fighting without Jack." 
Pentecost visibly counts to five.
Logan smirks but- 
Tiny gold light flickers in his head. 
Pentecost clears his throat. 
Logan blinks, turns back to him.
"You will die with him if we don't find a pilot."
">Find another one."
"You're the only Mark III pilot we can locate."
Logan snorts. ">'course I am-" 
"You know Jackson's in no shape to pilot and--"
"An' I am?"
"I know as well as you do you can still--"
">One good shot 'n yer Jaeger's paralyzed. /That'll--"
Gold light whimpers. 
"Agreeing--" 
Logan checks a motion towards the back and grinds his teeth. 
"--could save his life," Pentecost says quietly.
Logan steps nose-to-nose. ">Yer a—"
Gold light- 
A distant, choked scream. 
Pentecost raises an eyebrow, waits.
Logan glares, waits.
Gold light wails. 
"Mister Jones?" 
Logan stares at the door to the back, wondering how he got there. He swallows, peels his hand off the handle, and turns to Pentecost. ">But ye don't say /anythin' t' him," jerks his head toward the back, ">'r th' other one unless I don't make it."
Pentecost nods.
Logan sniffs, yanks open the door, tromps off toward Jackson.
The main door clicks shut. 
Logan takes a deep breath, hurries to the server room. 
Jackson's ....
Logan pokes his shoulder.
Jackson startles, seeks desperately for a landmark.
Logan waves a hand in front of his face.
Jackson tracks it, finds Logan's eyes. "Again?"
Logan nods.
"How long did I make it?"
Logan offers a view of his watch.
Squinting, Jackson groans, "Hour an' a half?" Scrubs a hand down his face and sits up. "Game 'a poker t' clear my head?"
Logan pulls the cards from atop a server and shuffles.
"Anythin' int'resting happen while I was out?"
Logan shakes his head and starts to deal.
GOALS:
1. Since there's another Mark III pilot alive in our universe, Pentecost has to try and recruit him, too.
2. Pentecost varies his sales pitch depending on who he's after.
3. Logan's absorbed /a /lot of Jackson's protectiveness of family (and Pentecost uses it against him [and Logan totally knows what he's up to]).
4. But Logan still has a tough guy image to uphold and he's ruder to Pentecost
5. What I thought of for the sign(s) were things that would be commonly said and [Stuff about changing Jackson's nightmare indicators (If the nest is in a closet or somewhere closed off) and Pentecost recognizes Drift links in action and changes his tactic accordingly which is what I think I've done (links not being to the extent of Gotham's; more like sensing when the other is in distress)], so...
===Do Something Right===
Sergio's off grocery shopping, Caitlin's on the landline trying to calm Chuck down (and failing), and Jayne says for the crew, ""If you can't do something smart, do something right.""
Jackson chuckles.
""Do we have a plan?""
Something plastic shatters in the den.
Jackson pauses /Serenity, calls, "Y' a'right in there?"
Logan strolls in.
"You OK?" Jackson tosses the remote aside, pushes to his feet. "Ye look like ye've seen a ghost--"
Logan hugs Jackson so tight his spine pops.
"Th' hell's—?"
Logan grabs Jackson's shoulders, presses their foreheads together, and shoves him back onto the couch.
"Th' fuck's wrong with ye {t'night}?" (clearly it's serious if he doesn't snark back)
Logan's already halfway down the stairs.
Jackson extracts himself and lurches after him.
Makes it to the top of the staircase as Logan digs around in the front closet and snags his coat. (Logan grabbed Caitlin's phone from /her coat).
"Where th' fuck 're ye going?"
Logan shrugs and exits without looking back.
Jackson skids down the stairs, yanks open the door.
No Logan for a block in either direction.
Jackson shivers in the evening air and retreats inside.
.
Dozens of texts go unanswered before Jackson finds what's left of Logan's phone under the desk in the den.
Dozens more sent to Caitlin's mysteriously absent phone fair no better.
.
For thirty-six hours, there's no trace of Logan.
.
Then the doorbell rings.
Jackson drags himself from the kitchen table and flings open the door.
">Fergot my key." Logan steps inside, pushes a bundle of fabric and fur into Jackson's hands.
"Where th' /fuck've you been, ye bastard?!"
Logan shrugs, drops Caitlin's phone in the key bowl, pulls off his coat.
"Fer fuck's sake, Logan, ye've been missin' almost /two /days!"
">Mouse okay?"
Jackson blinks. "Shaken up; in one piece, though."
Logan exhales, nods.
"Take it y' heard th' news."
">'s over. We won."
"Yea."
Huh.
Jackson shakes his head, pokes Logan in the chest. "So where th' hell /were you?"
">Out." He stretches and yawns. ">'m goin' t' bed. Don' bug me 'less it's Mouse." Up the stairs he goes.
Tweak: I've added a bit more context (tethering people to the scene, 'n what not (now that we've introduced Caitlin's phone in the house, it stands to reason Caitlin is also in the house)): 
.
The setup: So, the Becket/Mori neural test goes horribly wrong (as we see in the film) and Pentecost sends for Logan to take the grounded Mako's place. The Russians, being able to get them anything, score a supersonic Russian military jet to pick him up in Pittsburgh. Flight times and refueling stops being what they are, Hong Kong airspace closes ahead of Otachi and Leatherback's attack just before they arrive, forcing the plane to land at its home base near Vladivostok. Logan waits out the Battle of Hong Kong there. With Becket and Mori having worked out so well and with there being almost zero chance a Drift between Logan and either of the remaining able-bodied pilots would work (huge CORO gaps and issues of respect), Pentecost sends him home. He gets word Pitfall worked somewhere over the US plains and arrives home shortly after Min calls Jackson with the update on Derek. (I /think I did all the math right for the timing to work out.)
The thing breaking is Logan's phone.
===Trip===
derek_jones: enjoy yr trip 2 russia?
snikt: what trip?
derek_jones: [file]
snikt: how'd u get that?
derek_jones: got marshal-level access now
derek_jones: on ALL the systems
snikt: tell ne1 esp Jack & i'll nvr talk 2 u again
derek_jones: i won't
derek_jones: why'd u agree to it?
snikt: i could do it
derek_jones: u might've died
snikt: we needed that jaeger 
.
derek_jones: thank you
snikt: get back 2 work
derek_jones: really. thanks.
snikt: stop buggin me
derek_jones: see u in a few weeks
snikt: yea
== Pins ==
Date/Timing: Logan's first post-war visit to Australia
Setting: Nanny's front stoop; Randwick (Sydney), NSW, Australia
Inspired by: http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/140161001428/person-a-is-trying-to-pick-the-lock-of-their-own
Logan prods the innards of Nanny's front lock, grumbles, >"She /had to take my advice ...." Grunts. >"Seven fuckin' pins ...."
""Young man! What /are you doing?""
Twists around, addresses the neatly dressed person glaring at him from the bottom of the steps, >"Forgot my key."
"What was that? Speak up!"
>"This's loud as I go." Turns back to picking.
Nosy Neighbour steps closer. ""You stop that or I'm calling the police.""
Sighs, sits down facing Nosy. >"I'm her—" Flicks his head toward the door. >"—grandson, I'm visiting, and I forgot my key."
Nosy narrows their eyes. "You don't look like Ms Holly," they accuse.
>"Take after my mum." Stretches his legs.
Nosy pulls a mobile from a purse, pokes away. "I'm calling the police."
Logan rolls his eyes, crosses his arms.
"I'd like to report a break-in in progress ... Yes, that's the address ... Yes, the burglar is still here ... Yes, I'll keep my eye on him ... Thank you~!" Mobile back in purse. To Logan: "They'll be here in a minute."
>"Yay." Quirks an eyebrow. >"Mind if I get back to work while we're waiting?"
Nosy disapproves strongly.
Logan snorts, leans back against the door, basks in the sunshine.
A copmobile purrs up to the kerb and Nosy stomps over to greet the constable.
They murmur, then approach.
""Good afternoon, Mx,"" says the constable.
Logan bobs a greeting.
"I'm Constable McGaw. Do you have some ID on you?"
>"Back pocket." Retrieves his wallet, flips it open, offers it.
Constable accepts, skims. "'Logan Jones'?" Squints. "The Ranger?"
Inclines his head. >"The one and only."
"Wow," they breathe. Clears their throat, returns the wallet. "Why're /you trying to break into this house?"
Logan tucks it away. >"It's my grandmother's, I'm visiting her, I forgot my key, and I want to take a nap in peace."
"What a ridiculous excuse," mutters Nosy.
"Ma'am, Mr Jones could break into the prime minister's house, steal the silver—"
>"Don't forget the candlesticks."
"—/including the candlesticks, and only be asked—/politely—to return it."
Logan smirks
Nosy sniffs.
"Carry on, Mr Jones, and thank you for your service."
Logan acknowledges. >"Have a good day, Constable." Grins. >"Ma'am."
Nosy grumps, shtumps off.
Constable bows, walks—stops, turns around. "Just one more thing ...."
Logan raises an eyebrow.
"Can I have your autograph?"
Beams, holds out his hand for the constable's notepad and pen.
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