Torsion

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Logan steps up to Jimmy's front door, gives himself a once-over.

```

Everything's as straight, neat, and clean as he can get it.

Squares up, rings the bell.

Footsteps—two sets—approach.

""—/**horrible** idea!""

""She'll be /**fine**. Totally safe.""

""But he's one of your— What if—""

""He won't hurt her. He's a good kid; just a little lost.""

Logan rubs his neck.

The door swings open to a grinning Jimmy. "Logan! Thanks for helping us out last minute like this."

Beside him, Mrs Jimmy frowns, arms crossed.

"'s'no problem."

Jimmy steps aside. "Come in, come in."

Logan steps through, waits in the foyer.

Mrs Jimmy keeps eyes on him, disapproval clear.

"Claire's already had her dinner and done her homework. Her bedtime's eight. Help yourself to anything in the fridge—"

"Except the lasagna. That's for tomorrow's potluck," amends Mrs Jimmy.

"—except the lasagna. We should be back before midnight." Jimmy pats Logan's shoulder. "Claire'll love you and this'll be a breeze."

Logan swallows, nods.

"Lock up after us?"

"'course."

Jimmy smiles, heads out.

Mrs Jimmy scowls a final time, follows.

Logan sighs, bolts the door, plods deeper into the house search of Claire.

At the hallway, rapidly approaching pitter-pats.

Logan braces—

A blond comet collides with his midsection—

—channels the momentum into a somersault—

—shrieks in delight—

—rolls to a stop astride tiny legs—

—grins up, eyes bright.

—forces his arm to uncock, relax against his side.

"You're /**good**," chirps Claire.

Logan blinks down at her. "You're crackers."

Claire [crosses her arms,] pouts, "Dad's teaching me to fight and /**he** can't do that."

Logan shakes his head, pushes to his feet, offers a hand up. "That's because he's getting old and losing flexibility."

Claire nods sagely. "He's /**ancient**."

Logan grins. "Yup."

Claire cocks her head. "You're Logan, ay?"

He grunts.

"Mum says you're a delinquent."

Logan sighs, aims for the family room. "I am."

"/**Really?**" Claire bounces at his side. "You don't go to school?"

"Nope."

"That's /**awesome**! I hate school. It's /**boring**."

Logan flops on the couch. "Yea, but since I didn't graduate I can't get a job and without money I can't get a house or a flat."

Claire hops up next to him, frowns in puzzlement. "So where do you live?"

Shrugs. "Lots of places."

"That's so cool!"

Logan frowns. "It's not cool, it's dangerous." Rolls up his sleeve, displays a line of fresh stitches.

Claire's eyes get huge. "Does that hurt?"

"Yea, 'specially if I move fast." Tugs the sleeve back down.

Claire kicks her feet, chews her lip. Brightens. "Let's go outside!"

Logan grins. "Sure."

Claire bounds to the door, chirps, "After you."

Logan shrugs, steps onto the front steps.

The door slams, lock clicks.

Claire giggles.

Logan smirks, strolls around to the back of the house.

Forty-five seconds later, he ambles into the kitchen, clears his throat.

Claire, standing on a chair, squeaks, drops an open box of cookies.

Logan snags it mid-air, pops a cookie in his mouth.

Claire goggles at him, mouth wide open.

"Nice try, shortstack, but you can't lock me out of anything."

"You've /**gotta** show me how to do that!" She jumps—

Logan drops the box, catches Claire before she hits the floor, scowls at her.

She grins cheekily.

He rolls his eyes, sets her butt on the chair, crouches to eye level. "'kay. You need tools or two stiff wires, ay?"

Claire nods earnestly.

Logan pulls a pair of objects from a pocket. "This—" Holds one up. "—is your basic pick. See the little bend at the tip?"

"Uh huh."

"That's what you use to push the pins—the actual lock-y bits—outta the way."

Nodding.

"And this—" Shows the other. "—is a torsion wrench. It's probably more important than the pick because it's what you use to turn the lock once you've dealt with the pins."

"Gotcha."

"The best way to learn is to try it yourself."

Claire glows, vibrates in anticipation.

"Let's start with your back door, so you can get in if you accidentally lock yourself out."

"/**Cool!**" She grabs Logan's tools, jumps down, zips off.

Logan grins, follows.