Hideout

Because they're so similar, this may replace "Bolthole"

## Meta

**Timing:** probably late 2015 or sometime in 2016

**Setting:** One of Logan's SROs

## Text

Blossom steps out of the stairwell into the dim, narrow hallway. "You certainly know how to show a girl a good time."

"Why, /**thank** you, Queen Sarcasm," Logan tosses over his shoulder, slots a key in the lock of a door covered in peeling paint. "I /**could've** left you for the cops, you know."

"Oh. Right. Thanks for not doing that."

Logan preens. "You're welcome."

Bubbles, looking around nervously, wrinkles her nose. "It's legal for people to live here, right?"

"This's one of the few places I hang out where it /**is** legal for me to be." Logan jiggles the lock.

Blossom sighs.

"I think we need to start a campaign to raise the minimum standard for housing in this city," says Bubbles.

Logan rolls his eyes. "I'll add that to my list of campaign promises for when I run for Queen of Australia—"

"Oh man, I gotta pee," announces Bubbles.

"Washroom's at the far end of the hall," says Logan, cajoles the bolt into retracting.

Bubbles blinks. "You share it?"

"Yup."

"Sweet Jesus, this's /**barbaric**."

Logan huffs, "If you don't like it, you can try another couple nights in jail."

Bubbles sighs— "Wish me luck." —starts back down the hall.

Logan rolls his eyes, flips the light switch.

The bare bulb flickers; the filament catches, holds steady.

Logan gestures expansively. "Welcome to my humble abode."

Blossom strolls inside, takes in the small room—sink, cabinets, hotplate, mattress, stack of clothes and blankets in a corner. "How long have you lived like this?"

Logan shuts, bolts, and chains the door behind her—

"Bubbles?"

Logan grunts, unlocks the door. "Six years or so." Plops cross-legged on the mattress. "First couple years in town were rougher."

"Rougher."

"'No fixed address' 'n all that."

Blossom drops beside him. "You lived on the street."

Logan shrugs.

"You were, what, eighteen?"

"Sixteen." Rests his head against the wall. "Dropped out and ran soon as I could."

"That bad at home?"

"Everyone thought I was," smirks Logan.

Blossom stares at him.

"Never been 'right' brain-wise." Shrugs. "Parents pretty much wrote me off in Year Three."

Blossom shakes her head.

Bubbles eases the door open, hesitates on the threshold. "This's /**it**?"

Logan scoffs. "This's just my vacation cottage. The mansion has a gold-plated pool."

Bubbles snorks.

Blossom rolls her eyes, leans back. "Get in here."

Bubbles slinks in—

"Lock it," prompts Logan.

She does, shudders. "/**That** was dis/**gusting**."

"It's a building full of single men, what do you expect?" points out Blossom.

Logan rolls his eyes.

Bubbles throws herself onto the mattress on Logan's other side, grumbling. "How're we gonna manage sleeping?"

"Share," declares Logan, leaning across Blossom—

"Hey, I'm sitting here!"

—nabs three blankets from the pile, drops one on Blossom's lap—

"Thanks, Buttercup."

—whacks Bubbles in face with another—

"Oi, you ass—!"

—unfolds the last over himself.

"You've /**gotta** be kidding me," whines Bubbles.

"Aww ... little princess can't hack slumming it for a night?"

"Don't make me beat you up, Buttercup," she growls.

"Calm down, kids," says Blossom, "it's bedtime."

Logan and Bubbles huff.

There's a scuffle as the trio fight for space (Bubbles' elbow winds up in Logan's nose, quite unintentionally, of course), but, eventually, everyone's as comfortable as possible.

.

Some indeterminate time later—

Blossom digs her elbow into Logan's ribs. "Roll over," she grumbles. "You're snoring."

"/**I'm** snoring? 've heard /**trains** quieter'n ye," Logan snaps back.

"Shu'p. Yer /**bo'** snorin'," slurs Bubbles, "'n I nee' my beaudy sleep."

Blossom and Logan huff, flop over on their sides.

For a while, at least, everything is quiet.