She'd returned from wherever it was she went every night with a newspaper in her hand and a smile on her face. It was morning and she was wearing the same clothes she'd been wearing the night before. He had his theories and he didn't like any of them.
But her grin was the sort a cat had with canary feathers sticking out of its teeth, so he did ask a question. "What are you smiling about?"
She held up that morning's paper. His picture was on the cover with a headline that read, "MOVIE STAR SON STILL MISSING." Logan thought he must be turning green, but she didn't seem to notice.
"Logan Echolls," she pronounced for the first time, still smiling. He’d sometimes dreamt of her saying his name, but they’d never been vertical then. "I had no idea I was housing Hollywood royalty."
He looked away, brooding and vexed. He’d been planning on telling her. Mostly hoping that she’d tell him who she was. But she already knew his father was a bastard. Now she knew that he’d been a famous bastard. "I'd hardly call the son of a murderer royalty."
She shrugged. "All good kings were killers," she told him, laying the paper down on the coffee table. "The difference between them and the bad ones really lies in the numbers."
Logan jerked, wanting to upset some of her furniture, but it was probably too heavy for him to propel. "Could you not spout your philosophical crap at me right now?!" he yelled, the vein on his neck popping out. "It’s like you have a reason for every shitty thing that… This is... He killed my girlfriend, he--"
"Have you ever noticed that you never refer to her in the past tense?" she asked, completely unaffected by his tirade.
Logan very much wanted to hit her. "Yeah, have you ever noticed how self-righteous and smug you can be?"
She paused, pursing her lips. "I suppose after everything I've been through, I have a tendency to act entitled. I assumed that's why we got along."
"We get along because you were a good fuck," Logan snapped. "Not that I've seen any more of that."
She positively bristled, her hair standing straight up on her arms. "I was unaware that you were under the impression that prostituting myself had anything to do with my helping you."
"Where do you go at night anyway?” Logan asked, suddenly bold.
She stared at him, laughing after a moment. “Are you even asking me that question?”
“Yeah,” he snapped. “I want to know.”
She stalked over to him, oddly imposing in spite of her smaller stature. Her blue eyes were flashing with that same entitled anger he knew he held. It seemed much more appealing on her. “I go wherever you think I go, Logan Echolls. You fill in the blanks. And don’t you go getting pissed off about it, because the only way that you can be is if we’re involved. And we’re not. I’m your friend. That’s it."
“Some friend,” Logan seethed. “I still don’t know your name.”
He had a point, and that only seemed to infuriate her more. “It’s better if you don’t know it.”
“For who?” he asked. “For me or for you?”
She looked at him again, as if tempted to say. Then she remembered something and looked pained, pushing past him and into the kitchen, pulling her spike heels off as she walked. “I’m telling you, I’m doing you and me a favor.”
“Tell me,” he ground out.
“You don’t get to order me around, Logan,” she warned. “Don’t act like you can.”
He reached out and grabbed her arm, glaring into her eyes that showed neither surprise nor fear. “Tell me what the hell is going on!”
“You’re no prince here, Logan!” she yelled, not bothering to pull herself away. “You’re just a poor little rich boy who can’t even kill himself properly.”
Logan shut his eyes. “Shut up.”
She didn’t. “So you latched yourself on to the one person who might help you. It didn’t matter who it was or where it was. I just reached out and you’ve had your hooks in me ever since.”
“I said shut up.”
“You’re drowning, and damned if I’m going down with you!” she shouted. “I can take away the drinks, I can take away the other women, but I can’t take her away can I? I can never take your dead girlfriend away!”
“God, Lilly, would you just shut up!” he screamed, shaking her and then pushing her away. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he felt himself start to shake. He stared at her, wondering enough for them both.
Again, she wasn’t surprised. “You can find as many differences as you want,” she hissed. “I’ll always remind you of your dead girlfriend.”
Logan had no idea how to respond to that. So, terrified of himself and of her, he turned on his heel and nearly ran from the apartment, pulling his hood up over his head when he heard her yell after him.
“The prince flees from the truth once again!”
A beat.
“And no one is surprised.”
