Chapter Text
Logan stood on a vantage point near edge of the canyon where Eufaula Salvage Abandoned Ruins separated his hideout from his old hometown. It was late in the night. The sky was clear, permitting the stars to shine brightly and boast their vast numbers. He stared out at Sandrock and watched as lit windows around the town flickered out, indicating most residents who were still awake were turning in for the night. A bit more time had passed, and he watched each light go out until the whole town was dark.
Except for one property just across the tracks from the town. The workshop lights were persistent, and he guessed they wouldn’t dim any time soon.
He let out a low, impressed whistle. In the distance, he could see her slender form working away in her yard. She worked tirelessly at her machines nearly every damn night, long after the rest of the town had gone to bed.
Logan shook his head. “That girl never knows when to quit,” he muttered, and a small grin slid across his face.
He and Grace had kept tabs on the builder since the day she arrived in Sandrock. Though he was suspicious at first—more so than Grace, as she had experienced the builder face-to-face on many occasions—over time he watched her prove time and time again that she cared about the town and its inhabitants. She was the first to show up after every disaster, and the first to volunteer her efforts toward rebuilding. And there she was, the last to fall asleep because she just cared that damn much.
Sometimes, when he took the risk of watching during the day, he’d see Andy helping her out in the workshop. He couldn’t see the boy’s expression from that distance, but he knew he was likely beaming from ear to ear, chatting her ear off.
Light, he missed that kid.
The builder invested so much into the town from the get-go. She took to the town like a sandfish in quicksand. And he couldn’t help but wonder why. Sure, he loved Sandrock. It was his hometown. He would do anything for them. But she was an outsider. She could have hightailed it out of there at the first sign of danger or difficulty. But the ongoing challenges only seemed to make her more determined.
Logan couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of the builder. She had very quickly become family to the people of Sandrock—even the animals. Hell, Andy was practically glued to her side. And while he was thrilled that the town had someone protecting them from inside their lines, and that Andy had someone watching over him closely, he couldn’t help but resent the idea that even though he was trying to save them too, they considered him an enemy. He didn’t blame them, of course. They didn’t know. He knew it had to be that way for now and it never crossed his mind to fight it, but it certainly wasn’t how he preferred things to be. Besides, after what he’d done to his pa… He couldn’t face them. Not until he made things right.
He took comfort, though, in the fact that every resident of Sandrock had someone watching their back. Her from the inside, and him from the outside. Separated only by a giant crack in the earth. He hoped come tomorrow that might change.
He sighed and rubbed the tension in the back of his neck, uncertain of the outcome the day’s events would bring.
A light hand rested on his shoulder. “She’ll come, Logan.” Grace’s voice behind him was soft, but confident. “She ran by the Blue Moon with a bunch of rutabagas in her arms for Rambo earlier today.” She chuckled and gave him a friendly pat before crossing her arms and staring out at Sandrock with him. “This is going to work.”
Lucy huffed and watched Haru run deeper into the cavern after he seemed to realize he wasn’t going to win this fight. She didn’t chase him right away, but instead took a moment to catch her breath. After being thrown off a cliff by a goat; navigating obstacles, puzzles, and traps; and then immediately being bombarded with bombs by a bandit, she needed to compose herself. If Logan was in the next room… well, she’d have to be prepared for anything.
She’d fought him before. Back when he kidnapped Matilda. It was three on one then, and he easily knocked down Unsuur, Justice, and then finally, her. She hadn’t been prepared for that fight. He maneuvered with an agility that a man his size should not have been able to—like a dust devil with a dagger. Although, she noticed throughout the fight that he only served incapacitating blows. Whenever his blade got close to wounding one of them, he would spin the dagger expertly in his fingers so only the hilt landed the blow. He could have easily killed them, or at the very least severely wounded them. And yet, he didn’t. What kind of villain doesn’t want to hurt his enemies?
That wasn’t the first time she’d questioned the credibility of his bandithood. Her suspicions began with the train robbery, just after she’d moved to Sandrock, in fact. He and Haru stopped the train but didn’t actually rob or harm anyone.
No one was harmed in the water tower explosion—which she questioned his level of responsibility for to begin with. No one seemed to be able to recall actually seeing him blow up the tower.
He’d kidnapped Matilda, sure, but he tried to get information out of her by having Andy tickle her with a feather. Not exactly what you’d expect from a madman.
The evidence was piling, but it wasn’t adding up. Besides, the townsfolk only had wonderful things to say about who he was when they knew him. They all loved him.
In the end, it was Elsie that won her over, after their investigation of his home. She sat on the floor with her and Mi-an, old photos of Logan, his family, and the townsfolk scattered around them. Elsie told them stories about him. “I don’t have any siblings.” Elsie had said as she stared sullenly at a photo of her as a little girl standing next to a much taller Logan. He had had ten years on Elsie, so he was basically a grown man already when she was still a little kid. They both grinned in the photo, her giving a peace sign and him giving a thumbs up. “But I never felt like I missed out. He was the big brother I never had. Always gettin’ me outta trouble. That’s why we have to find a way to get him outta trouble this time.” She’d wiped her eyes with the sleeve on her forearm. “He’s family.”
“Elsie,” Lucy had said to her, resting a comforting hand on her friend’s capped head. “I promise I will do whatever is in my power to help you get your big brother home. One way or another.” Elsie was surprised at first, but then gave her a teary-eyed smile so big she wanted to wrap her up in a bear hug. And so that’s what she did. That day had ended in smiles and laughter, but the air around them was still heavy with memories and sadness.
She didn’t know how she was going to fulfill her promise to Elsie. Maybe it was the builder instinct in her, but when she saw something broken, all she wanted to do was fix it. Sandrock was broken: its buildings, its environment, and its people. And she was going to fix it. She had to.
Despite not ever officially meeting Logan—aside from their brief encounters—Lucy felt like she knew him.
She knew him from the tears Elsie cried because she felt she lost a brother.
She knew him from the sad, wistful smile Owen would give when he would talk about how he and Logan were old sand fishing buddies. And he’d say, with a distant look in his eyes, that he fished alone now.
She knew him by the way everyone talked about Howlett, his pa… Another man she felt she knew, yet would never have the chance to meet face to face. It was as if she moved to a town that was haunted by the ghosts of both Logan and Howlett, but only one of them was really gone.
She knew him from the way Andy cried after Logan set him free from the gang and rode away—but not before ruffling his hair in a gentle, paternal way. She’d knelt next to the boy, took him in her arms and assured him Logan was probably just trying to protect him.
She knew him from Jasmine’s drawings on Logan’s wall. Despite never seeing his face behind the mask, she tried to imagine what his smile might have looked like while he pinned the drawing up.
She knew the town. And she loved them. And because they loved Logan, so did she. And she was going to fight for him. For them.
She closed her eyes tight, mustering the courage to move deeper into the hideout. She knew she couldn’t win against him alone. She knew that. But she had to try. Bandit or not, she was going to get some answers. A battle wasn’t her first choice. Maybe she could just talk to him. But if he wanted a fight, she was going to give it to him.
His cocky attitude when she entered the next room in the cavern didn’t surprise her. She’d witnessed it before. But it still irked her in an indescribable way. He interrupted Haru and brushed him off when he tried to warn Logan she wouldn’t go down easily. “It's okay. Stay outta this one, Haru...”
“Fine…” Haru said, raising his hands in defeat.
She’d taken that brief moment to assess him in an attempt to gauge whether she could spot any weak points. He was tall, and just as intimidating as the last time she’d fought him. He carried himself with a certainty and assurance she wouldn't dream of mustering for herself. This was going to be a tough encounter.
Just as Lucy was about to open her mouth, Logan shouted.
“Draw!” He drew his dagger and immediately dashed toward her.
She hadn’t even drawn her weapons yet. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But as he barreled toward her like a stampeding yakmel, she didn’t hesitate further. In an instant, she held her daggers steadily in her hands and she rolled away from his first swing, eyes narrowed when she was back on her feet. He didn’t let up or give her any time to regain her balance before he was after her again in a whirlwind. Their blades clashed as she blocked one of his swings with a dagger. They stood there for a moment as he pushed his dagger forward and she pushed back, eyes locked through blades.
The sides of his azure eyes crinkled slightly. Was he… smiling? She thought she heard him chuckle as he leapt back and away. This time, he waited back a bit, his dagger drawn up by his eyes. His gaze was nothing if not amused as he waited for her to come to him. She took a deep, shaky breath and ran toward him. The clashing of their blades rang through the room continuously again. They swung and dodged for a while as they spun around the room in a persistent cadence.
She could tell he was holding back. Since she obviously wasn’t as skilled a fighter as him, she’d left plenty of openings, but he didn’t take them. In fact, he seemed to specifically avoid any opportunity to officially take her out. Occasionally, he would openly laugh. It wasn’t a villainous or wicked laugh. He wasn’t toying with her. It was a hearty laugh—challenging, but playful. She wanted to hear it over and over.
She realized then that she wasn’t in any real danger with him, so she started to enjoy their skirmish, too. And without the threat of death looming over her, her fighting improved. She gained confidence and found herself smirking whenever she successfully parried one of his attacks. After one such parry, she pushed him backward and his mask fell off for a brief moment. She barely caught a glimpse of his face before he threw it back on. She didn’t even have time to process any feelings seeing his whole face brought up, but there were certainly some that bubbled in her stomach.
They ran back toward each other with force. When they were about to meet in the middle, they both were met with slender, yet strong hands forcefully pushing them back.
“I think that’s enough…” Grace said after she emerged between them.
“Grace?” Lucy shrieked incredulously.
“Yeah, alright.” Logan relaxed and sheathed his dagger. “I’ve seen enough. We picked the right person.”
Lucy’s mouth hung open; her eyebrows furrowed. She had so many things she wanted to say, but at the same time, somehow nothing she could think of that would be fitting for that moment.
“Huh?” was all she could manage.
“I knew it,” Lucy said almost inaudibly, as if saying it to herself. Her mouth was agape. Logan and Grace had just thoroughly explained operation Act Like a Bandit to her.
“Hold on—you knew we weren’t the bad guys? Why did you fight us, then? Why keep fighting Logan?” Haru interjected from the sidelines, rubbing his side where she’d kicked him during their previous squabble.
She meekly shrugged and smiled. “He started it.” She tilted her head toward Logan, earning a muffled chuckle from behind his mask. “Besides, I was never a hundred percent certain, and… This turned out to be kind of fun,” she added and crossed her daggers behind her into their scabbards. Her expression dropped to a serious one. “I couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to this story. I didn’t have any evidence before, but now I do. I have no reason not to believe in you now.”
“I like this Builder already...” Logan mumbled, sizing Lucy up with his icy blue eyes. His gaze was piercing and stern, yet gentle—but still intense, to say the least. Just as it had been every other time she had encountered him. She felt like she was being pushed into the ground under his heavy stare, locked in place by his eyes. Suddenly, she was self-conscious. She looked away, cleared her throat lightly, and shook it off. There were more important things at hand than the way he looked at her.
As they explained their plans to her, Lucy quickly agreed to help in any way she could, which seemed to come as no surprise to Grace. Lucy thought they had become good friends, but now realized now that she didn’t really know anything about the “waitress.”
After the they went over the blueprint of Sandrock Storage, and Lucy was assigned to make the anti-lock for the hidden door inside—which she estimated aloud that she could have ready in roughly two to three days—the group broke out to their own spaces in the hideout. She spoke with Grace and Haru respectively, and they were more than happy to answer her questions in full and trusted her like she was already part of the gang. They seemed relieved that their little posse was growing; that maybe they didn’t have to keep going through hell alone.
She glanced over to Logan, who was on the other side of the cavern, looking out of a large aperture in the wall, which opened up to a vast sunlit space. An old windmill stood tall amidst dried out trees and brush. The light hit it in a way that made everything look like it was made of gold. It was peaceful. The bandit looked lost in thought.
“Andy talks about you all the time,” Lucy spoke softly behind him as she walked up, standing slightly behind him, but still able to see the side of his masked face. She quickly recalled what he looked like underneath in that brief moment she had knocked it off his face. She’d seen pictures of him when he was young, but age and difficulty had changed him. She took a moment to take in his broad shoulders, the scruff that peaked out from his jawline under his mask, the way his shirt hugged his arms … Peach, he was still handsome as hell, but there was nothing left of the youthful, rambunctious boy who smiled widely in those old photos.
His gaze remained outward, but fell slightly lower, toward the rocks that surrounded the bottom of the gaping hole in the wall. He let out a slow sigh. She wouldn’t have even noticed if she hadn’t caught his shoulders slump ever so slightly. He was a man of composure; she’d give him that. But even he couldn’t hide the exhaustion and heartbreak he carried in the way he stood there. Now that she knew everything, he no longer had to keep up appearances. He would no longer have to hide behind the strong-man bandit persona with her. At least, she hoped he wouldn’t.
“Everythin’ turned out for the better for him, thanks to you. How’s he holdin’ up?” he asked. Although, he already knew the answer. Grace would give him daily updates, and he was able to spot the boy running around town when he monitored him from a distance.
“He misses you.” She chuckled. She took a step forward, so she was standing right next to him. She accidentally stepped a little too close and their arms brushed lightly for a short moment. She felt her cheeks flush, but she didn’t move back, nervous the quick motion might be too obvious. She shook her head and closed her eyes, embarrassed by how ridiculous she was being by allowing herself to feel nervous. They’d only just met. She’d have to save anything like that for after the mission. He didn’t move away, but also didn’t seem fazed by the contact. If he had any reaction, she couldn’t tell. Perhaps he didn’t notice. “They all miss you.”
He turned his head to look down at her. Lucy liked to believe she stood at an average height—at least, she wasn’t any shorter than the average Sandrockian, a few exceptions aside—but Logan towered over her like ruins in the Eufaula, and he felt just as distant as they did, despite there being very little space between them.
“I ‘preciate the sentiment,” he said in a soft tone. “Not too sure how much truth there is to that, though. I’ve done a lot of wrong in the eyes of Sandrock. I ain’t proud of everything I did out here.”
“Based on what you and Grace just told me, everything you’ve done is for them. To protect Sandrock. I’m sure they could forgive that,” she chuckled. “They all know you. They knew your father. If you could only see the confusion in their faces, Logan. In the way they talk about—” She stopped herself and looked at the ground with a pained expression. “Your Pa was a good man.” She looked back up at him and gave him a small, sad smile.
Logan looked slightly taken back by Lucy’s vulnerability. He knew she was invested in the town, but seeing her attachment and care up close was something different entirely.
She wondered if she’d gone a bit too far until he responded and looked idly toward the windmill again. “He was. Never shot anything that didn't need shootin'. Always put the town ahead of himself. From the time I could walk, I wanted to follow in his footsteps.”
Lucy’s silence urged him to continue.
He taught me everything I know,” he said. “How to fight, how to hunt, how to be a decent man. And now, I'll never get a chance to return any favors...”
She wanted to comfort him somehow. She wanted to rest a hand on his shoulder; pat him on the back; tell him it wasn’t his fault, as she suspected there was more to that story than met the eye as well—Anything. But she was a stranger to him, despite her feeling like she knew him already. So, she didn’t move, but rather tried to find the right words for the situation. Before she could say anything, Logan cleared his throat and changed the subject.
“Anyway, we'll stick around here for a little while but... we do need to be movin' on... Best get you headin’ out now too, I suppose. Wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town thinks you’ve met your maker and is already holdin’ a funeral of sorts.” He nodded in the direction of Andy’s old room. “There’s a way out that direction. It’s a… bit precarious so mind your balance.”
Lucy inwardly cursed. The whole town probably thought she was dead. She hated that she might have been the source of even more heartbreak for the already struggling people of Sandrock.
Logan saw the look on her face, probably unsure of what it meant, and turned to her. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Her knees nearly buckled at this action, but she remained composed despite her heart turning in her chest. “If you still have doubts say your piece now. Not sure what more we can say. We do need your help, Builder. I'll do whatever it takes to earn that. But if you do this, be ready for a fight.”
“Logan, I have never been more in for anything. We’re going to save Sandrock. And we’ll do it together.” She beamed up at him with confidence in her eyes and he chuckled.
“Atta girl.” Without thinking, he lifted his hand and patted the top of her head. She blushed under his hand. She couldn’t help it. He wore an intimidating getup, and surely was a dangerous man when he wanted to be, but something about him felt comfortable. He felt like Sandrock on a warm spring day. He felt like home. She couldn’t help but keep smiling as she looked up at him.
He stared for a moment, with an expression in his eyes she couldn’t read, hand still on her head. They stayed like that, frozen in time. Her, beaming up at him, and him with his desert sky-colored eyes looking down at her. Two strangers who had somehow known each other for over a year.
In a moment of realization, he coughed and pulled away before he crossed his arms, straightened his shoulders and looked away.
“I should get back,” Lucy said awkwardly and started toward Andy’s room.
“Be seein’ you soon, Builder,” Logan said and tipped his hat toward her.
I hope so, she thought. She smiled at him one last time and then called over her shoulder after she turned around: “Don’t make me wait so long this time.” Then she walked away, flustered at her own words, and afraid to look back at his reaction.
He eyed her as she walked away. She stopped for a second to pet Rambo and Merle on her way, and then disappeared into Andy’s room. He wanted to chuckle at her demand but stopped himself when he realized she’d put him at ease. Ease wasn’t what he needed now. He needed only the strength of his resolve and the steely focus that had brought him this far.
Logan could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen the builder up close. The truth was that he’d wanted to officially meet her for a long time. But, as with everything else in his life, he had to set all of his own wants aside and keep his attention on more pressing matters.
Light, he thought. Even if it didn’t feel like it, they’d only just met. But he felt he’d known her all his life—the comfort and ease she’d taken out of the room with her left him wanting to follow her out. But that wasn’t what either of them signed up for. They signed up to protect Sandrock. There wasn’t any time for anything else. He shook his head, pushing away the unwanted feelings creeping in.
He’d have to save anything like that for after the mission.
Notes:
You bet your ass I picked the heart dialogue option when I finally met him in game (no spoilers but it adds an extra super adorable option during his confession later in the game if you use it). But, in practice, it didn’t seem prudent to put it in the fic so I wrote my little nod to it (twice…) instead.
Also I wrote this with uncertainty as to whether I wanted to actually post it anywhere. There's more where this came from (some loosely connected ramblings that I can string together a little better if need be) and I would be happy to continue, but I sort of want to see how it's received first. Anyone like it? Anyone hate it? Should I go bury myself in a hole somewhere for even attempting this? I know the pacing is kind of quick... That's always been my problem. I know where I want to end up, and it's hard to flesh out everything from one point to the next.
As far as future NSFW content goes... I wouldn't get your hopes up. I have marked this fic Not Rated because I haven't made a decision about that yet. Lord knows I've read NSFW content plenty of times, but I've never written it before. I'm not confident in my abilities, or that it wouldn't somehow rattle the entirety of my psyche to try. I suppose I could be persuaded to make an attempt, if prodded well enough. But I will say, if it happens, it will be *tasteful* smut. I ain't a big fan of raunchy. We'll see.
Just wanted to get that out in the open right off the bat.
Chapter Text
When Lucy returned to Sandrock, she stumbled upon her own memorial service taking place at The Blue Moon’s outdoor stage. Everyone was shocked to see her, to say the least. Tears were cried. Hugs were given. She particularly appreciated the gigantic bear hug that Owen scooped her up in, but didn’t particularly appreciate the crushing squeeze he also gave that blew all the air out of her lungs. Grace was there already and pretended to be relieved with the rest of the town. Elsie called for a celebration and announced drinks were on her—then, Cooper reminded Elsie, in his signature long-winded way, that she wasn’t old enough to drink, so she would be getting a nice cold, non-alcoholic yakmel milk while the others indulged in their spirits.
When the crowd dissipated and Lucy was about to head inside with the others, she locked eyes with Pen. Her eyes narrowed for a split second, as did his—It was clear that they were both suspicious of each other. Grace mentioned they didn’t have any hard evidence that Pen was involved in the conspiracy against Sandrock, but that he was the one who blew up the water tower with his relic weapon.
Accident or not, Pen had lied about it and let Logan take the blame. That was a hard pill for Lucy to swallow. She was just warming up to the big dummy. She’d roll her eyes when he called her Skinny Arms, but the nickname became endearing after a while. They were friends. It was heartbreaking to imagine that all of that might have just been a façade, but she still wanted to be careful about how she approached the situation, especially with him. If he was an enemy, he’d be a dangerous one.
Pen’s dubious expression vanished, and it was quickly replaced with one of relief as he walked toward her.
“What an amazing tale! Back from the dead! Good on you! I much prefer the living version of you,” he smiled wide.
“Me too, Pen.” Lucy said with a hesitant smile, unsure what to make of his interaction. A day ago, his behavior wouldn’t have meant anything to her. But now everything he did seemed laced in counterfeit efforts.
“After I heard the news, I turned the whole place inside out but couldn't find you. You know, traditionally, you're supposed to wait in one spot if you're stranded...?” He shot her a disapproving look, but then gave her a soft smile and set his powerful hands on her shoulders. “I’m not complaining, though. Welcome back, Skinny.”
Lucy’s brain wrinkled and turned repeatedly. Part of her wanted to let herself trust him like her poor instincts told her to, purely because she couldn’t imagine the friend in front of her betraying her—or all of Sandrock, for that matter. She was always told—mostly by Nia—that she let people in too easily; trusted too readily. She knew she couldn’t trust herself in trusting Pen. But he wasn’t something she needed to deal with just then. So she let the thoughts go and brought herself back to the moment.
“Thanks, big guy.” Her heart sank as she smiled, but her smile was genuine. He did seem relieved that she was alive, at least. Maybe he wasn’t a villain after all.
She wiggled free from his hands and turned to go.
“But, say…” He began charily. She stopped in her tracks. “If you had any strange encounters out there, perhaps any bandit-related, you'd tell your old buddy, Pen, wouldn't you?" He asked, an eyebrow perked.
She swallowed, unsure what to say. She tried to remain composed, and opened her mouth to reply—
“Ha ha! Of course you would! What am I saying? Catch you around.” He winked and was gone.
She sighed heavily and watched him go. Now that was suspicious. When she didn’t think her heart could sink any deeper, she dragged herself to The Blue Moon, but her drink wouldn’t be celebratory.
She halted when she spotted one of Logan’s Wanted posters on the outer wall of the building. She was the one who put it up a year ago. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but a sudden lurch of irritation now tightened in her chest. She gritted her teeth and reached up to grab the corner of the poster, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and tore it from its place on the wall, leaving only unrecognizable shreds of paper behind. She knew it was suspicious, but she couldn’t help herself. Soon enough, everything would be out in the open. She just needed to find the time to get the anti-lock done.
The day following her false memorial service, Lucy tried to stick to her normal schedule as much as possible. She had to act as though it was just another day. Trudy had suggested she take the day off—which Yan visibly disapproved of—due to the events of the previous day, but Lucy insisted she at least take a couple of commissions for the day. If anything, she needed commissions to save face. She knew Yan was hiding his involvement with whatever was hidden in Sandrock Storage. She was still waiting on Heidi to let her know when they were into the tunnel structural phase, so she needed an excuse to be at her machines while she worked on the anti-lock. She didn’t want to raise suspicion from Yan, Pen, Tiger, or anyone else who might be watching.
Unsurprisingly, Pen seemed to follow her around the whole day. It looked like they happened to keep running into each other, but Lucy, disheartened, knew better. He was watching her—waiting for her to so much as breathe differently. It was beginning to irritate her. She hadn’t been able to start on the anti-lock with him monitoring her, so she worked on her regular commissions and resolved she would work on the mechanism later that night when everyone—including Pen, was asleep.
She wiped her brow, unwittingly covering it in grease, and turned from her workbench, having completed a couple of oil lamps for Jensen. Lo and behold, there standing at her gate was Pen.
“Skinny Arms!” he shouted joyously. “Just the person I was looking for!”
“Well, you found me… again… here at my workshop, where one might normally find me.” She smiled, slightly annoyed as she approached him. But his wide, seemingly authentic smile melted away the irritation. His being at her heels the whole day basically confirmed any suspicion that he was somehow involved in the conspiracy against Sandrock, but he was Pen. It was hard to separate what she now knew of him from the friendship she’d developed since she first moved to Sandrock.
“I’m sorry, Skinny.” He looked somber. “I know I’ve been invading your personal space today and I haven’t given you a chance to catch your breath after that devastating fall.”
She tilted her head curiously, allowing him to go on.
“I just… can’t help but feel slightly responsible for what happened to you,” he said, shoulders slumped. “I’m the Protector of Sandrock, after all! And I… I couldn’t protect you.”
She wondered if this was some sort of ploy to keep her trust. But she also wondered if he really felt guilty that she got hurt. Either way, she needed to act like she appreciated his concern.
“I understand. It’s not your fault. You can’t keep an eye on everything all the time.” She wasn’t sure if her own smile was genuine or not at this point. “But I’m okay. I really do need to get some work done and catch up on my commissions though, Pen. I missed a whole day of work, after all. And you’ve been quite the distraction today. Would you mind if I got back to it?”
“Sure, Skinny.” He nodded, a brief look of skepticism crossing his features that dulled when he saw a mere lamp in her hand. “But if anything happens, you’ll come to me?”
I won’t, she thought. “I will.” She said and nodded firmly, knowing full well that what came out of her mouth was a lie. One heroic pose later, and Pen was gone.
Lucy looked out on the horizon and noted that the sun had started to set. She also noted there was a wall of sand forming in the distance, and accompanying it was a low, eerie hum in the warm breeze that passed over her, indicating an oncoming sandstorm. Even better. She could put her sandwall up during the storm, which would provide more privacy while she worked on the anti-lock. As a bonus, the storm would surely keep everyone inside, guaranteeing no prying eyes would show up at her gate. She also determined she’d use the worktable in her factory shed, tucked away from the notice of anyone who might somehow still stop by in the storm—mainly Pen, in case he was patrolling for enraged monsters—he’d made it a point to make sure she knew that he was unbothered by sandstorms when they first met.
By the time the storm rolled around, sandwall up, Lucy finished up with the day’s commissions, making note that she’d deliver them in the morning. She brushed her hands together, wiping the excess dust and oil from them before reaching into her pocket and pulling out the diagram for the anti-lock.
Time to get some real work done.
She fired up one of her smelters to melt down a couple of chromium steel bars. Thankfully, she already had some bronze leftover from a previous project, so she wouldn’t have to worry about waiting for those to finish. She moved into the barn-style factory shed and quickly got to work on the bronze components of the mechanism.
She wasn’t sure how long she worked away at it, but after a while, one look out of the window told her two things: the sun had fully set, and the sandstorm was still raging outside of her protective borders. She wondered how Logan and Haru fared during storms. She supposed they must have bunkered down indoors—or in their case, caves—just like everyone else, but she didn’t see Logan as the type to let the storms stop him from keeping an eye on things—the true, silent protector of Sandrock. The sort of man that Pen regularly and loudly claimed to be.
Lucy thought of everything that happened in Sandrock up to that point, and how much sense it all made now that she was in the loop. She remembered the first time she’d ever locked eyes with Logan as he rode away from the water tower explosion. The fierceness of his stare was, as usual, daunting, but there was something else behind them that she couldn’t name at the time—several something elses, if she was being honest. But in all their encounters, she never saw even a hint of cruelty. She should have known better from the beginning but was pulled every which way by the opinions of Sandrockers from the get-go. It was impossible to know the truth without hunting him down with the Corps like she had. She was more motivated to seek the truth, while Justice and Unsuur fully intended to put him away for good.
Public enemy number one, indeed, she thought sarcastically to herself, almost scoffing at the idea of it.
“Evenin’, Builder,” a low voice behind her said and she whipped around, startled. She locked eyes with the blue-eyed bandit, falling under the familiar intensity of their gaze and exhaled the breath she held.
“L-Logan?” she exclaimed, stunned. She thought she might have summoned him somehow with her mind. “What are you doing here?”
“I ain’t known for bein’ a patient man,” he admitted frankly. He was leaning casually against the shed’s doorframe. “Wanted to check in and see how things are comin’ along with the anti-lock gadget.” He removed his hat and beat it against his knee to shake all the sand off of it.
She imagined with this being the first lead they had in the years they were on the run, the gang would likely be antsy in anticipation of the next step.
Lucy nodded in understanding. “I’m piecing the bronze components together best I can,” she explained. “But it’s taking some time to refine the chromium Yan listed.” He walked over to her as she pointed to scribbles on the diagram. “I’m smelting some of it outside, but the chromium bits will likely have to wait until tomorrow night. It’s been near impossible to get a moment to myself, so I thought it best to work on this under the cover of night and, conveniently, a sandstorm.”
He hovered over her, eyes on the paper she held. She tried with all her inner strength to keep her hand from trembling. He was standing so close to her again. The man who had been so distant for so long—a ghost of Sandrock, was so close she could feel the heat of his body.
“Mind if I stick ‘round while you work?” Logan said and raised his gaze to hers, but took a small step back and away, taking the warmth with him. He shrugged. “It ain’t doin’ me good waitin’ ‘round the hideout for somethin’ to happen.”
“As long as you don’t distract me.” She shot him a half-stern, half-lighthearted look and lifted a lecturing finger. “And no back seat buildering. I do this my way.”
“You’re the professional,” he raised his hands up and took another step back. “I don’t know the first thing about builderin’.”
She smirked. “Well, maybe you can learn something new then.”
She continued her work on the anti-lock but found it difficult to concentrate. She could feel Logan’s heavy stare on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his arms folded across his chest and his head tilted curiously. Otherwise, he was unmoving; a masked yakboy statue. The only sounds in the room were the howling of the sandstorm’s winds outside and her tools working against bronze. She decided her nerves couldn’t handle it for much longer, so she opted to break the silence.
“Can I ask you something?” she inquired and glanced over to him.
“Shoot.”
“Why fight me? I mean, if your plan was to recruit me to your cause. Why not just talk to me?”
“I guess you could say it was a test,” he replied. She could tell by the way the side of his eyes crinkled that he was smirking. His gaze then quickly fell into a serious one. “If Pen is part of the problem, we needed to make sure you could manage a tough fight. Not many can hold their own against him.”
Lucy’s chest tightened at his mention of Pen. She kept the sadness at bay and continued working on the device in front of her.
“Or against you,” she noted, somewhat playfully. But she understood. Logan was the only person in all of the Eufaula who stood a chance against someone like Pen. If she could fight Logan, then she might stand a chance against the self-proclaimed Protector of Sandrock, a title which she thought was ironic if Pen was part of whatever Duvos was planning. Never mind the fact that Logan was clearly pulling his punches during their fight—so did she really even stand a chance? “So, you recruited me because I can fight.”
“We recruited you,” Logan began as he moved next to her and leaned back against the worktable, ducking his head to capture her gaze, “because you’ve already proven you would fight for the people here—you have fought for the people here. As if they were your own. And you’ve done a damn good job at it.”
Lucy was quiet. She never knew what to say when people gave her any sort of praise—and people were doing a lot of it lately. She looked back down at the partially-assembled anti-lock in her hands.
“Speakin’ of Pen…” Logan spoke warily. “He stuck kinda close to you today,” he grumbled and glanced sideways, his arms still folded across his chest. “Anythin’ we should be worried about?”
She felt warmth creep up her neck, realizing Logan must have been watching out for her all day. She felt safer knowing he was keeping an eye on her, but couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward and tried to remember if she’d done anything weird throughout her day.
“Nothing I can’t handle. He claims it’s because he needs to keep an eye on me for my protection, lest I get thrown off a cliff again,” she muttered and rolled her eyes. She paused her tinkering to feign a heroic pose, balling her fists and setting them on her hips. “’No need to thank me! Just doing my job!’” she said in her best Pen impression; in her truest Pen voice.
Logan stared at her, wide-eyed for a moment. She started to shrink from embarrassment, but then he let out a loud pfffffttt and doubled over with laughter. She gawked at him for a second, absorbing his laughter—real, genuine, uncontrolled laughter. Her cheeks flushed and she giggled lightly while she watched him. The sound of his laughter made her feel warm. So, this was the outlaw Logan, unguarded. She wasn’t sure he had such a side to him. She wanted to see more of it; to witness more sides of him.
“I’m sorry—that’s quite the Pen impression,” he said when he calmed down, wiping a tear from his eye.
“Like you can do better?” She tilted her head, hands still on her hips, but flattened in an expression of attitude as opposed to heroics.
“I promise I cannot.” He raised his hands in surrender, unwilling to match her shameless attempt. “Spot on, Builder.”
She eyed him for a moment longer and smiled before returning her attention to the anti-lock. “You can call me Lucy, you know.”
“You mean to tell me your name ain’t Builder?” he teased.
She chuckled in response. “You would think since that’s what everyone calls me. We have two builders, you know.” She continued to tinker with the anti-lock, eyes still focused on her work as she muttered. “But Mi-an gets to be Mi-an and I’m just—”
“Lucy.”
She paused. The way Logan said her name sent shivers down her spine. He said it thoughtfully; carefully, drawling out every bit of it as he looked out toward the corner of the shed at nothing in particular. She hoped he wouldn’t notice the unrelenting heat she felt in her face. And if he did, she hoped he assumed it was due to working through a hot summer evening.
Lucy quickly thought of something to say to get her mind off how much she wanted to hear him say it again. “So, what’s with the mask? Everyone here knows what you look like already.”
It was as if her words sucked the air out of the room. She regretted asking. She should have known the topic would lead to tension.
Logan was quiet for what felt to Lucy an eternity before he finally responded. “Don’t seem right to face the world ‘til my Pa’s at peace,” he said in a low voice. He didn’t seem upset by her words, but she knew it wasn’t an easy subject for him. “‘Til Sandrock is safe, and I put this Duvos business to rest.”
Lucy noted the level of responsibility for Sandrock that Logan put on his shoulders—despite being part of a team, he acted as though the burden was his alone to bear. She wondered what Haru thought of that, having been with Logan since the beginning of their fall out with the town.
“I’m… sorry, for bringing it up,” Lucy said softly.
“No need to apologize,” Logan said. “You deserve answers as much as everyone else, I reckon.”
She fiddled with the anti-lock, turning it over in her hands and giving it a once over before determining there was nothing else she could do with it until she had the chromium ready for the final pieces.
“Well, I appreciate your willingness,” she said. She then shifted the conversation to the device. “Looks like this thing’s as finished as it can be for now.” She tossed it slightly in the air and caught it before shoving it into the pocket of her work overalls. She looked out of one of the windows and could see the night sky.
“I best be goin’ anyway. Seems like the sandstorm has eased up.” Logan nodded, standing upright. Lucy sure was glad he turned out to be on their side. His size alone was intimidating. He carried himself like an outlaw—peered over his mask with that intense stare like one. He even dressed like one. He looked truly dangerous. And yet, there wasn’t anything ruthless about him. “Keep Grace updated on the gizmo. And if anythin’ should go awry, you give a holler,” he added in a serious, lecturing tone. “I’m stayin’ outta sight, but I’ll be keepin’ an eye on things.”
“I will,” she said, and meant it—unlike during her interaction with Pen. She looked up at him. Their eyes were locked for a moment, freezing them in time as before—as if neither of them wanted to go, but both knew it wouldn’t make sense to stay. Lucy cleared her throat. “I-I, uh, trust you know how to find your way out of the workshop since you let yourself in.” She gave him a wry smile and made for the door.
But Logan gently grabbed her wrist and turned her back around to face him.
“I wanted to say,” he began, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words as he avoided eye contact. “That is… “ He straightened up and released her wrist, locking his eyes with hers in a determined stare. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Everythin’ you’ve done for the town. Everythin’ you’re doin’ for the town. Puttin’ the weight of its fate on your shoulders day after day, and even now puttin’ your life on the line for it.”
“Look who’s talking.” Lucy chuckled.
Logan snickered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “We certainly are two of a kind, I suppose," he said. "I know it's a big ask, trustin' the gang so quickly. You're comin' through for us in more ways than you know."
She didn’t like the idea of taking so much credit for the town’s recent successes. Sure, she pulled a lot of the weight, but it was always a team effort. Most of her projects were dreams that other people outlined, and she just helped make them happen. She wasn’t a visionary, or anyone’s savior. She was a builder. She was just doing her job, and her job happened to put her in a position to be able to do a lot of good for a lot of good people.
“I’m not just doing it for you,” she said plainly, though he already knew that. “Sandrock… Like you said, they’re my people now. My home. You’re part of Sandrock—or rather, you’re supposed to be. So you’re my people now too. You’re not alone in this, and you won’t ever be alone in this again.” She reached out and patted one of his arms, determination set in her eyes. “I’ve got your back, Logan. Come what may; we’re in this together now.”
He stared down at her with a grateful, almost relieved look—like part of the weight on his shoulders had eased ever so slightly.
“Now get outta here,” she said and gave his arm a playful push. “Before the sun rises and the Corps catch themselves a criminal."
His eyes smiled meaningfully. “Be seein’ you, Builder.” He tipped his hat to her and passed by her. She rolled her eyes at his continued neglect of her actual name. "Hope I didn't make you wait too long this time."
“Be seein’ you, Bandit.” She mimicked his thick Sandrock accent over her shoulder, cheeks flushed a deep red. She heard him let out a breath of a chuckle, and he was gone.
Notes:
I've decided to continue this--mostly because I've genuinely been enjoying writing it! I've never written someone like Logan before, so it's been a bit of a challenge trying to portray the twang, but here we are.
the_archress on Chapter 1 Fri 02 Aug 2024 08:51PM UTC
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Shadow84797 on Chapter 2 Wed 07 Aug 2024 07:26PM UTC
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