we're just feeling fine

I

On a Friday night, Wonder Wharf, several people are shoved aside as a little girl pushes through the crowd on a mission.

"Stop that little girl! She's stolen a valuable prize!" Gus cries out.

"Shove a cork in it, old man!" Louise Belcher yells back.

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Rounding a corner, she skids, just barely avoiding a very serious scrape from the concrete. It doesn't matter because she was within her full rights to this giant, limited edition, one-of-a-kind, crossover specialized Kuchi-Kopi dakimakura! The stupid thing was huge, fluffy and extremely squeezable — she needed to have it. It wasn't her fault the stupid game host wasn't paying attention, it wasn't her fault that the plush was begging her to just take him and it damn well wasn't her fault that Mr. Fischoeder just happened to be waltzing around in her space the second she decided to book it!

"Crap. Crap. Crap!" Hugging the pillow tightly, it takes everything in Louise not to stop for at least a huff of air. Okay, Louise, think! — I'll be at the entrance in no time, and from there, it's a freakin' beeline to the fort. Mom and dad wouldn't be trusted with the 'inside' scoop of her latest act — she'd smooth things over with them later. Preferably, on a day where she's not ditching school… or tell them she'd won this prize fair and square, and maybe just avoid the park altogether for a couple of months. 'I got this.'

Her chest burns with the need for oxygen, and the adrenaline is already starting to wear off, but Louise keeps going. A scoff is expelled, more out of the need to breathe than actual victor. Only processing the fact she's passed the entrance of the park, she clutches the pillow with all her strength. Cars skid and stop to an abrupt halt at the sight of her. Rounding another corner, Louise continues like her life depends on it, looking behind her just to make sure she's rid of anyone else.

I'm scott free, baby!

She's too blinded by the premature spoil of her winnings, too focused on the high of the chase, of being the winner, that by the time she turns her gaze back to the front, she's already on her butt, spine stiff and body tense from the impact against the concrete. Groaning in slight pain, and now a little sour that she's got grime all over her newest prized possession, Louise spares a glance at the perpetrator, squinting through the poor illumination.

"What the—? Logan?!"

She must have slammed harder than she thought because said boy is rubbing his side, wincing as he patted the area down. "Goddamnit, stupid kid! Watch where you're running!"

Her attention, however, is immediately yanked from the stupid boy to the wall behind him. Ignoring his poor attempt at an insult, she tilts her head just ever so, trying to comprehend the spray painted image until noticing the can of spray paint and his smudged hands. 'Typical, stupid teen boy.' An insult is already underway, hundreds on hundreds of them at the ready — annoyance, however, is the most prevalent emotion out of anything else. She's about to release it, to give him what-for for just standing here in the middle of her way.

But then she realizes that he hasn't said anything else, his attention —for once, already ripped away from her back to his art project as he grumbles under his breath. Louise should revel in this opportunity, to continue running until she's certain she isn't being chased. The thought leaves her as quickly as it came — nobody would have followed her out of the park, it wasn't worth the effort. Stupid Logan isn't even sparing another glance.

It's this fact that roots her to the spot.

Dusting off dirt from her prize, she stands, patting her dress and bunny ears. Blinking a few times, she peers just behind him, trying to get a good view of… whatever it is he's spraying. She'd thought at least that would have been enough to annoy him out of his reverie. Not being able to stand this weird silent treatment, Louise speaks up: "What? Really? Stupid kid is the best you got? What gives?"

He barely exhales a breath, "Beat it, brat. I'm not in the mood for your little attitude tonight." 'Little?! Oh, I'll give you little—' The good mood of her winnings and the high of her adrenaline rush are wearing off, and a serious case of a tantrum is starting to boil at the pit of her belly.

"What, seriously? You don't want to know why I was running like a maniac carrying this giant ass pillow? Not even concerned for the well-being of a child, running amok in the middle of the night?"

"Nope," he makes sure to pop that 'p'.

Louise Belcher has never felt so offended! After the heroic mile she went through to push him out of the way against all those snowballs, after the mercy she graced him with, this is how he treats her? With an undignified huff and a couple steps in however, her gaze is once again pulled to the vandalized wall. "Is that…" she squints harder. It's not like she hasn't seen drawings before, but she hasn't quite seen this particular variation either. "Is that supposed to be a pen—"

This proves to be more than enough to elicit a reaction from him, which she wasn't expecting. Logan sputters, dropping the can of spray paint in the process. Cheeks now a fierce shade of pink, he turns to her with an annoyed scowl, "For crap's sake, y—you stupid kid, get out of here already! It's none of your business, anyway. Scram, get!"

Admittedly, the sight of him now trying to cover the offending graphic from her view was hilarious. Letting a triumphant smirk take over her features, Louise holds her dakimakura close and juts her chin. "Well, there's a reaction. And here I thought you were mad at little me. What gives? You just casually like to vandalize buildings in the middle of the night? Where are your stupid friends?"

"I just said it's none of your business!" Man, is the guy relentless!

"Geez, alright, don't get your stupid boy-panties in a twist; look, if it makes you feel any better, I'm just hanging for a few minutes. I'm sure you can imagine the kind of pickle I'm in, just do the math," she provides a pointed look to her prize, momentarily unaware how eager she is to hear praise.

As if she never even spoke, he once again diverts his attention away, much to her dismay. Grumbling under his breath, he huffs as he crouches down to get his fallen can. The nozzle has broken off, rendering it completely useless — a miniscule detail, something that could easily be remedied by getting a new can, she's sure.

But something so simple, so stupid seems to cause Logan to lose it.

"Aw fucking hell!" he kicks the now offensive object, letting it clank hard against the opposite wall. He releases a long exhale, as if having just finished running a marathon, before sliding down against the wall, knees drawn together and facing his handiwork.

'What the hell just happened?' Louise blinks, stunned and unsure of what had just transpired in front of her. It's not like she hasn't seen someone completely lose their shit before… hell, she even saw Logan succumb to pure sadistic anger the time her and Gene dropped the rotten cantaloupe on him. Granted, still hilarious but completely accidental. But… what was this about?

Well, crap, now she actually feels bad for bothering him. He really did mean it when he told her to scram.

She's unsure how to even comfort herself or her siblings when they need it, let alone a teen boy who's gotten a liking to bully her in the past. One minute she was literally running from one of the more serious heists, with a hefty payoff — and the next, she'd somehow ran into Logan, bother him and witness the beginning of some kind of mental breakdown. This wasn't her kind of scene, but she just couldn't leave him there, looking like that.

Her body moves faster than her thought process because despite her better judgment, she's already sitting next to him, letting the quiet linger.

Eventually, she settles with simply poking him. She's half paranoid he'll go berserk like last time; one poke to the shoulder — with no response, she waits a bit and then pokes him twice, and she continues on like that until he responds; namely, by closing his hand on hers. "Stop it," he says without even looking at her, voice terse.

"A-ha! So it speaks!" He scoffs and she considers that significant progress. He still hasn't let go of her hand, but she's not exactly concerned about that right now. "So, what's your deal tonight? I mean… it doesn't look that bad, I guess. If I were you, I would have maybe added more girth riiiight… ther—" she points to the specific area of his stupid graffitti art.

He sputters yet again, and it takes everything in her not to laugh. "I told you to lay off. Stop looking at the stupid wall!"

"If you didn't want people looking at it, why did you draw something there? Do you know what spray paint even is, Logan?"

"Oh my god, you are so damn annoying. Stuff that attitude, would you, Smellcher? What is even that thing you're holding?" he points, trying to divert the attention to anything else other than his 'art' piece.

Now there's a familiar insult. At least now she has an indication that he hasn't gone off the deep end. All too happy to oblige, she holds out the pillow toward his direction so he could get a better look. "It's called a dakimakura, you uncultured swine. And it happens to be the best thing I've swiped since whatever because who friggin cares! It has Kupi Kochi! Best thing ever, ten outta ten. Managed to snag this bad boy up from Wonder Wharf — almost got caught, but I'm sure it's not that important. Nobody would appreciate this thing more than me."

Logan looks at her like she's sprouted two heads — a look she doesn't appreciate him giving her newest prized possession. How could he not see the beauty of it? It's amazing! "You have some serious issues."

She snorts, hugging the thing closer as if his words burned. "Yeah, right, I'm the one with issues. I'm sorry, who was the guy who threatened to give me Reverse Norwegian Stink Hold over a stupid melon?" she blows a raspberry. She definitely hadn't forgotten what Logan did to Gene, and part of her was still pissed about it, yet somehow, unafraid being in his presence. After all, true to his word, he left them alone after Gene took her place; that had to say something, right?

"It was rotten and you did it on purpose!" His glare is exactly like his tone; offended beyond belief.

"Nuh uh! I told you it was a stupid accident!"

"Uh huh, yeah sure, you keep telling yourself that."

"You keep telling yourself that!"

"Keep it up, and I'll probably even make up for lost time! Your brother may have taken your place that day, but there's still a reservation up in Pittsburg with your name on it, Belcher!" That reluctantly makes her go quiet, biting the inside of her cheek. Now it's Logan's turn to look smug, cupping his ear. "I'm sorry, what was that? Couldn't hear you!"

He earns a punch to his arm for that.

"Ow, okay! Christ, how are you so stupid strong for a nine year old?"

"I'm eleven, thank you very much."

"Wha— Really? But I could have sworn that… you know what, nevermind. Whatever, dumb brat."

"Are you really that angry about the stupid can of paint?" She asks in the only way a child could, purely of naivete and full of ignorance. The sudden 180 in topic makes Logan blink, mind trying to catch up with what she was referring to. The subtle sullen expression is back on his face, and makes Louise inexplicably annoyed.

He offers a lazy shrug, jaw grinding in thought. She could be going crazy, but it almost looks like he wants to say something… It has been a while since she's seen him, and there are nuances and subtle shifts in his face that she could have sworn simply weren't there before. But then again, she hadn't bothered to pay attention to him in this way the first couple of times. "Nah, I just… overreacted. Got a few things on my mind."

Well, that was certainly underestimating it. "What could possibly make you just suddenly have a fit like that?"

In her naivete, swimming in pure bliss that comes with childish ignorance, Louise finds herself to be genuinely curious. This is a side, however fleeting, was one she's never witnessed beforehand on the boy. The only thing she ever associated with him before the sledding incident was pure, stupid boy hormones (whatever that entails, if Tina's diary is anything to go by). But despite that, she's also too intuitive for her own good. The faraway look in his eyes that came after kicking the can seems to vanish in a blink and she isn't sure what to make of it, but he interjects her thoughts.

"What are you even doing out this late? Better yet, what are you doing here so late?"

"Don't change the subject!" she points a finger between his eyes, as if by doing so will somehow bring out all the answers she needs from him, to know what's got him so out of left field. She's intrigued. And whatever intrigues Louise Belcher, ends up being something she wants to crack open, the same kind of mechanism that'd come into play with her siblings. Except now, it was with Logan, for better or worse.

"I'm serious — for once, you're not getting crazy rage eyes at me, and there isn't even anyone here to have contributed. I guess, I mean as gross as it is, I'm asking if you're okay…?"

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But before Louise can even begin to decipher the slight furrow of his brow, or his immediate lack of response altogether, an extremely bright light dawns on them.

Literally.

"Alright, alright, party's over. Hands where I can see them, now! You two are in a lot of trouble."

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( Well balls, it's Sergeant Bosco. )