Somewhere Here

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</noinclude>

Banging on the door just as Logan sits down with some cereal.

Logan tucks in.

""Open up, Buttercup, time to talk!""

Logan enjoys his cereal.

""I brought pork sandwiches from that place you like~.""

Logan glowers at his bowl.

""Buttercup, my legs are still Ranger-ready; I /**will** kick this door down no matter /**how** many locks you have!""

Logan rolls his eyes, unlocks door, yanks it open. "My cereal's getting soggy."

Bubbles pushes through. "Then pitch it." Swings the bag. "I brought better food."

Logan rolls his eyes, slurps down the rest of his cereal.

"You got any plates or something?"

"Upper left."

"Awesome." Shoves Logan back towards the table, snags dishes from the cabinet.

"The place by the station's still open?" Logan claims the chair which puts the wall at his back.

"'Under new management', so technically?" Slides him a plate. "Hopefully these're still good." Takes the seat next to Logan, scootches her chair juuust inside his personal space.

Logan frowns, checks his path to the exit, frowns harder.

"Yea, you'll have to go through me."

Shrugs, chomps into the sandwich.

Snicket glides from the pass-through onto the table, settles Sphinxlike in the center, stares at Bubbles.

"You have a cat."

Logan shrugs, keeps eating.

"I thought you hated cats."

"He'd say he's a roommate."

Bubbles snorks. "How's the food?"

Shrugs. "'s average."

"Yea, I remember it being better, too." Sighs.

Logan downs the last of his sandwich, leans back, crosses his arms. "Why're you here?"

"/**Be**-cause we need to talk."

Up goes an eyebrow. "'bout what?"

Bubbles leans further into his space. "/**Your** baby!"

Logan swallows; quietly, kinda flat, "What about him?"

"You. Have. A baby." Leans closer, noses almost touching. "With /**Blossom**."

Scrubs a hand down his face. "It's ... complicated."

"Ye /**think**?!"

"You have /**no** fuckin' clue."

"I /**know** my two best friends screwed {each}—"

"We didn't—"

"—{other} behind my back! Without inviting me!"

"/**Bubbles—**"

"Shut up! I'd /**kill** the both of you if it wouldn't leave an adorable orphan!"

Logan's on his feet, looming. "/**We** /**didn't—**"

Bubbles hops up, jabs a finger into his chest. "Just how drunk did she get you?"

Startles. "Wha?"

"/**Only** way she could've gotten you in bed."

Logan makes a frustrated sound. "/**No** /**one** was drunk. I haven't /**been** drunk since Year [Seven]. They—"

"You were drunk in /**Year** [/**Seven**]?!"

"Never been 'right'."

"Point." Settles in her chair. "Then /**how**, exactly, did Blossom get you in bed?"

Eyes blaze. "She. Didn't."

"So where'd the baby come from?" snaps Bubbles. "I /**know** how they're made."

Logan rolls his eyes. "Remember volunteering to make one when she got nabbed at the 'Dome?"

Bubbles crosses her arms, nods.

Ducks his head, studies his hands, murmurs, "They used [me—" Folds into his chair. "—'stead of you. They got her—"] Vision greys.

"Oh."

"I had no idea {they had} ['til] I met Button."

"Christ, Buttercup ...."

Snicket nudges his hand.

"Soooo, your purity's intact."

"For the love of—"

Bubbles brightens, straightens. "I still have a chance!"

Brows lower. "/**No.**"

"Aww ... you're no fun."

Logan replies with a bland look.

Sighs, "At least [fatherhood hasn't changed that], ye tease."