A/N: I was thinking of skydiving and my brain flipped into Quogan writing mode, and the warm feelings came up, along with the fact that I had iGoToJapan on the brain. You'll see why. So, I'm writing it. I have another Quogan oneshot planned out even though I'm sick. It's the fluff one now, and I work on the angst filled one much later, because there's much planning to do on that one. This along with the angst filled one will be in Quinn's POV because I've come to realize that she is my official PCA "voice".

Disclaimer: Yes, I own Zoey 101. And I have a super model boyfriend.

There's one week until school is over, and summer vacation starts. Our exams have yet to actually start because prom is the weekend before. How some people are still in the prom haze is beyond me yet I understand because prom is known for things to happen whether it be weird like Coco eat virtually everything on the buffet only to throw it up much later and then something truly mind-boggling, surreal and wonderfully relieving. Two weeks later, PCA has definitely changed, but I can't help but blush and smile when I remember what happens. I play it over and over, and the result is a warm fuzzy feeling every time.

Our friends are okay with Logan and I becoming a couple, except for Lola "adjusting", and by adjusting, I mean, questioning my sanity and asking if I've actually snapped or if any of my Quinnventions have brain-washing qualities.

"No, Lola," I sigh, exasperatedly. Sure, she's my best friend, and I really Lola like the sister I never really get to have, but it's been two weeks.

"Then why Logan? What exactly do you see in him?"

"He may not show it often, but he has the ability to be sweet and he listens, Lola. Surprising considering the Logan Reese we all know to shallow, self-serving and thoughtless," I explain, looking my best friend in the eye. I can only be honest with her and she knows that. I soften my voice, so Lola can finally understand. " – but he listens. And that's what I see in Logan. A person that may not display it but he can understands me. Plus, he really is a sweet guy."

Lola raises her perfectly done eyebrows at me, and I roll out my eyes, sighing. I'll bend in the slightest. I stand by what I tell her, but I bend because she's my best friend.

"Okay, fine. When he wants to be."

"Look, you can date him. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that, but seriously, if he hurts you," Lola warns, eyes determined, and sounding as if Logan is actually in the room, waiting to pounce on him any second. I like Vince and not because of the gummy bears, although I develop a liking to the green ones, so can't she be civil towards my boyfriend? " – so help me, I'll kill that boy and then I'll go to confession and ask for forgiveness."

"Lola."

"I mean it, Quinn. You're like a sister to me. There's no exception."

I'm touched by that, and we hug, before I sit and turn my attention to the textbook in front of me, "Okay, I appreciate it."

"You'd better," she replies, and her face lights up like she's getting an idea. Lola plants herself next to me. "Hey, I have this English paper. Being the ultra cool BFF that you are, wanna write it up for me? I already sorta wrote it up, but can you write it so it looks like I actually paid attention?"

And deprive someone from learning? Absolutely not. But I like the ultra BFF compliment.

"No," I reply, flipping the pages to my biology book. Learning about the pathogens and portals of entry is quite simple, like baby stuff, but it's always something I like to explore because I enjoy and I can compare it to my own supplementary research. Yes, yes, I see that look of disdain. Well, I don't see it but I can imagine it collectively, and no, there will be no harmful germs in the making.

I'm aware that Stacy tries to kiss Logan at prom but I've restrained myself from giving her a manufactured strain of influenza that will keep her quarantined. I's pretty lenient considering it's just a strain of a stubborn cold. Common colds aren't that hard to cure, but if Stacy meets antibiotic resistance than she's like a hydrogen molecule – alone, just like the molecule has its lone atom and single shell.

"Oh, you're no fun!" my friend pouts, and then sighs deflated. "Oh, well. I'm off to bug Zoey then."

"You know, you can use that time to just type up the essay and get it over with."

"Ew, why?" Lola wrinkles her nose in disgust, almost similar to when she happens to stumble upon my many jars of goo and concoctions. Honestly, it's a while since I make them so I'm re-testing them to find out their function. Lola speaks, and I close my book, making mental notes of what to add and remove from my research. "It's almost summertime. Typing and new manicures while wet is a no-no."

"You don't have one," I laugh, but she broadly smiles and makes me realize that Lola is truly unique and there will never be a copy of her…unless I clone her, but she and Zoey hid all of my cloning research. I'm in no rush to look for it yet, though.

"Now I want to, so I will, and then I will bug Zoey into typing my report because I'll have a reason. Ciao," Lola says, doing our secret handshake which actually comes up on a rainy, and quite boring Saturday, and it's been that way ever since. It just feels fitting.

"Later."

And Lola leaves the lounge, my own plans for summer actually starting to become one of my top priorities to plan.

.

.

.

I find myself thinking about my parents, Otis, my neighborhood, and just Seattle in general.

The rain is just something I'm used to even though it doesn't rain continually. But in Seattle, when it rains, it really pours. Heavy precipitation, indeed. Seattle just isn't the same without that quiet and sleepy atmosphere. At the same time, Seattle is bustling and that's what makes me appreciate being from there. Because I'm an only child, I find myself thinking a lot about my parents all the time. My mom's a yoga instructor.

My mom has this belief that as long as everything is cosmically aligned then everything is in equilibrium. But I guess that's due to the fact that my grandparents were hippies way back in the 60s. In fact, they tell me they got married during Woodstock. So, my mom was raised in that setting, and I guess, that was instilled in me which is one my wardrobe is always colourful.

One of my favourite non-scientific pastime is doing yoga with my while the sunrises. It's amazing.

But I miss my father just as much.

My thoughts of back home are put on while I type on laptop, just trying to go through what equations I leave unsolved because of time. Zoey walks in, smile on her face and she drops her backpack on her single bed, before removing her shoes and sits on her bed.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Oh, this is nothing major. Just a couple of unsolved equation to add to research," I reply, offhandedly, and I look up giving her a knowing glance with the slight teasing to match. "So, I'm guessing the smile on your face is because of Chase – the guy we told you who's in love with you repeatedly?"

"And your happy, smiley face is due to Logan, which you hid with for months," Zoey returns, making a face. I know it's in good jest and when she mentions Logan, I feel myself start to blush. See? The very mention makes me start feel warm on the inside, but it's soothing. I conclude that this must be the feeling of lovesickness. Lola singing Lovebug repeatedly finally gets to me, I concur.

"Touché."

At least, now they understand that Logan and I are couple. It's not immediate, but it's progress.

It's better than nothing.

"You know Lola asked me to type her English report for her."

"I know because according to her, she can't spoil her summer manicure. I'm sure she's getting that right now," I answer, and close the laptop cover down with a click. Uncrossing my legs mainly because they're starting to feel like they fall sleep, I walk over to the mini fridge and pull out a strawberry-kiwi Blix. And then it gets quiet, and I feel concerned for Zoey. I can't say having her current boyfriend and her ex-boyfriend in the same room is easy at all. Since school is almost over anyway, so Chase and James have to share with, I imagine, Logan and (mostly) Michael trapped in between. There's no point in dorm re-assignments now. "What's wrong?"

She collapses backward with an almost inaudible thump due to the blanket, while I bring the Blix to my lips and take a sip.

"I don't know," she answers, rolling on her side. Her blond hair splays out in neat directions. "The jump from best friends to boyfriend/girlfriend is kind of strange."

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean, that it's a big jump, but I don't regret it. It's just weird having my ex and my current boyfriend in the same room. Even though James and I are over, I still care about him and I, at least, want us to be friends. I've dealt with my feelings for Chase, and I have strong ones, but I feel…" she trails off, her glossed lips in a thoughtful frown.

"Like you should have closure?" I offer, sympathetically, and Zoey sits up and nods.

"What do I do, Quinn?"

"Well, give it a couple of days so you and James are in the proper state of mind to actually talk and tie up loose ends. Then a platonic friendship can start," I feel a smile creeping onto my face, when I sit beside Zoey and nudge her. "Because you do love Chase, right?"

Zoey gives me that mothering look, she always does, but we're used to it. After all, Zoey is a maternal figure to us during our high school, which has one more year left. On the positive side, she laughs with a slight blush.

"Do you love Logan?"

I can honestly say I do. I never believe in Fate until now. I find myself thinking about what if Logan and mine paths never cross – if our paths never intertwine and before now, I would be content with that, giving our constant friction and misunderstandings, but now it's quite the opposite. I'm thankful that Logan and I cross each other. More thankful than anything.

Sure, I'm thankful for Newton Three Laws of Motion, and the Theory of Relativity.

But yeah, but being with Logan is definitely one of the things I have deep gratitude for.

"Yes."

"Okay, there you go," she smiles, and nudges me back before she hugs me. Zoey releases me because my new orange iBerry Sleek vibrates. My old phone falls in some unidentified goo and said goo melts it right through, so I change it, passing it around so everyone can store their numbers in it. Well, Logan helps pick the device out. I pull it out, a new text coming in from Logan because his face on the display tells me so.

Something about a surprise he has for me, and how's we wants to meet me him at Sushi Rox.

But he won't disclose anything more.

"Surprise?" I question out loud. My eyebrows crinkle in confusion, and I look at Zoey. Logan is just such a complex person that I can't decipher him sometimes. But the prospect of a surprise makes me interested and my anticipation builds.

"Don't look at me. You know how Logan and I – get along, and sort of not. Not as bad as Lola, but yeah."

Sighing, my fingers fly over the full keyboard, telling him I'll be there.

"I'd better go," I tell Zoey, grab my keys, and my unfinished bottle of Blix before leaving. I tell her goodbye and walk out the door only to find Lola with a new manicure. She looks up and smile brightly, satisfied with it – white tips and all. "Ooh, you went French. Nice."

"I know. Best twenty dollars I ever spent, except now I have a craving for croissants. I'll deal it," Lola waves a hand, dismissively. "Zoey's in there, right?"

"Yes."

"See, she was meant to type that English paper for me. Besides, she knows more about this Joan of Arc thing more than I do. Girl is France, becomes a soldier, gets in trouble, gets burned at the stake. The End."

I roll my eyes slightly, crossing my arms over my chest. Rattling off the Lola Martinez Cliff Notes version, clearly means her habit on not reading things thoroughly is still there. And she wonders why she ends up in that Walk-A-Thon ordeal. Lola's knitting gets better, but still she's needs to learn to read things thoroughly. It's pretty evident she's not illiterate because reads magazines without batting an eyelash.

"You didn't read about Joan of Arc at all?"

"No!" Lola answers, as if I say Orlando Bloom is quite hideous and should wear a paper bag for the rest of his life. "It's nearly summer, and again: who reads things?"

"Oh, I don't know, most of Earth's population, perhaps?"

"Well, my nails are still wet, so I'm going to go ask Zoey to summarize the whole Joan of Arc thing. Later," my best friend says, wiggling her fingers. It's still shiny with a clear top coat, and I make a mental note to get one with a pedicure at a place that will not be prejudice against someone with an extra appendage. Can the fact I have an extra toe be helped? No.

I realize two things.

One, Lola's gone and two, I have to run to Sushi Rox to meet my boyfriend and uncover whatever he may be hiding as a surprise.

.

.

.

I'm starting to see a pattern with Logan here.

He only has about three fixed, definite moods and then a couple that branch out. He has angry which is the whole 'act now, think later' thing with him. He's not perfect, but I appreciate that. And then there are days where I find him sad and he shuts down. I don't pry because I know how fragile he can be, but he'll deny it so many times. Nonetheless, I'm there and I'll listen – whether the circumstance is that he's out of his favourite hair mousse or something about his mom getting re-married this time, as opposed to his father like he's used to. But no matter how trivial the situation may be, I'm there as a girlfriend and someone Logan can be emotionally stable with.

And there's his current mood right now: completely happy. I especially don't mind that since he gives me one of the most unexpected but yet wonderful kisses ever as soon as he sees me. He pulls away, and I sit across the table from him with a laugh that sounds winded and jovial all at once. His eyes are twinkling like he just wins something big. And then my curiosity and anticipation builds.

"I'm the best boyfriend ever! Now ask me why."

I giggle at his antics with a slight shake of my head, "Enlighten me, Logan. Tell me why you're the best boyfriend ever. Does it have anything to do with that surprise perhaps?"

"Obviously," he answers, in that playfully cocky tone of his, before Logan grabs my hands. "My dad's planning to go to Japan this summer because he's filming a slasher movie, and he wanted me to go to show me the family business," Logan rolls his eyes with distaste at this. I smile comfortingly, trying to calm him down because it's nearly summer vacation after all.

"Oh, stop it," I scold, interlocking our fingers from across the table. The distance between us isn't that wide thankfully, so it's possible to do that. "You know, your father just cares about you and your future."

"Is that some kind of Reverse Parenting?"

Reverse Parenting - where a parent pretends to neglect their child only to love the same child excessively? I certainly hope not because not only can this be psychologically damaging, but it's just morally bad. I know if I become a parent, I'll be a Nobel Prize Winner of course, but I'll be always a mother first. As much as I like new theories being unearthed, I hope this one stays earthed deeply but I know that's not the case. Those Safe Haven Laws in Nevada are just shocking. I nearly drop a beaker when I read about an article on it.

"No, I know it isn't. Your father has a unique parenting style – "

" – which means no parenting at all."

"Okay, what about the car you brought with his money without his consent? Baby, he punished you for that," I put out, and he slightly starts to falter under my persuading gaze.

"At least I got it back," Logan defends, drawing little circles on my wrists. He raises his eyebrows suggestively and at the same time, it's me who's going through the persuasion. Oh, how the table have turned. The only difference is I don't mind it, and find it quite amusing. "You know you love the thrill of making out with me in the front seat…"

Okay, okay. So I will admit that we've done that a couple times of times.

In those two – okay, four! I've confessed now – instances, I succumb to the adrenaline rush every time. I'd delve deeper but a girl doesn't kiss and tell. I bite back a smile because I start to see that one of the "presents" I leave Logan afterwards starts to fade slightly. Who knows hick – er, gifts fade away slowly.

"That's true. I enjoy that," I admit with a blush. "So, what's this surprise you have for me?"

"Okay, here it is. My dad's filming a slasher film, and there's the premiere and private screening of the sequel of Shinnyusha. I got off the phone with him and he said I could bring a friend. So, I decided to take my girlfriend with me. You know, brunette with brains and beauty."

I decide to go along with his little ruse well aware that he just calls me beautiful. Sure, he's my boyfriend but it's odd to hear that from Logan. It's not a bad thing at all. You misunderstand me. It's just odd but wonderful to see the progress in Logan. I finish the last of my Blix, and smile.

"Really?" I question, with mock interest. "Does your girlfriend have a name?"

"Duh," he answers, and then kisses my cheek. "Her name is Quinn Pensky, so you think she'd wanna spend the summer with me in Japan?"

I could very well question loosely why I'm all of a sudden referring to myself in the third person. It's kind of like Lola has this part in a school production and she has to get into character. There's one instance where she's required in speak in rhyme for the duration of the production. But it's bad because afterwards, Lola can't stop speaking in rhyme and she's out of character. Oh, don't be alarmed, Lola obviously fixed.

I could question why I'm suddenly in the third person, but it's funny to me, and I'm beyond excited at the prospect of going to Japan. Besides, owning a kimono is on my wishlist anyway. So, with my parents' permission, yes. I'd be crazy not to refuse a whole summer going to a place full of rich and thriving culture with my boyfriend no less. Smiling widely, I cradle his face and press his lips to mine.

I pull away, "Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah."

To celebrate our new-found summer plans, Logan stands and takes my hand, dragging me off in the direction of the student parking lot.

We both know what happens afterwards.

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.

.

Two days later, and I'm not satisfied with my final grades. Yes, there are exams in between. I just don't want to go into details because, well, they're irrelevant. Still, I'm not pleased with my grades at all. Sure, I get a whole barrage of A+ going down the final report card, but that A is glaring at me, a constant reminder of what do I wrong. My Stanford dreams aren't dead yet, thankfully or I would have a crisis also glaring at me, despite that fact I'm excited over a trip in Japan.

There will definitely be digital pictures.

"I can't believe Mrs. Tomlin destroyed my A+ streak!" I groan, as Zoey and Lola and I are seated around our usual lounge spot. Zoey and Lola look at each other before sighing and mutually shaking their heads at me. Oh, come on. My 5.0 GPA has to stay where it is just to irritate the science club for not accepting the superior female mind. "She clearly has some sort of deep seeded vendetta against me."

"Oh, be happy with your grades," Lola hushes, plopping down on the sofa after Zoey does. Oh, speaking of…

"Hey, did you ever get around to talking to James?"

Zoey looks almost caught off-guard by my question. Hmm, I could probe this further but I choose not to. She nods, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, "Yeah. We talked and we agreed to be friends. So, it's cool. I can at least be in Maui without that thought hanging over me."

So, James and Zoey make up, and there'll be no awkwardness between them.

We can only hope that James and Chase talk somewhat, and then all of us can hang out together since James has become a friend to us as well. I think everything is okay, until Zoey grows quiet again and my suspicions are confirmed when I hear the word but, and that word only means one thing: something major occurs during the Zames (I'm clever like that, ha.) make-up.

"But?" Lola repeats, pressing on, and we're both looking at Zoey, hoping she'll spit it out.

"Well, James and I are good now and – "

"Oh my God. You didn't cheat on Chase and kiss him or something, did you?" my best friend questions, open wide. I look and Lola and defend Zoey. My laptop is loaded and resting on my lap. I'm expecting to check my e-mail, but I'm currently distracted.

"Of course, she didn't do that! She wouldn't do that," I reply, and Zoey gives me a look of understanding and thanks but I do have to make sure. After all, if anything like that does happen, then it's better to address it now. Just between us girls for now, and then everything can be sorted out after the magic of summer has worn off. I give Zoey my own look of questioning. "You didn't do that, did you?"

"Yes, because I'm just the type of girl who kisses her ex, right after I starting dating Chase," Zoey replies, in a sweet saccharine voice. Okay, judging by the sarcasm, the answer is clear. She sighs with exasperation. "But that's not it. How do I tell Chase that I still have the necklace James gave me?"

"Chase doesn't know?"

"You so have to tell him, sooner or later!" Lola instructs. I can't imagine keeping anything Mark gives me in the duration of our two year relationships. Not only would Logan have a fit, but I can't keep anything because it would hurt me. Sure, Zoey and James have an ugly break-up, but I don't even think that's Logan inevitable anger if I keep any mementos of my relationship with Mark is it. My sole reasoning is based on the fact that I associate that relationship with something that ends quite badly.

So, when I get rid of Mark's stuff, I soak them in the same corrosive goo my old cell phone falls into.

And they just dissolve instantly, just like my feelings for him.

I guess, I should follow my own advice and get closure, but I'm at crossroads. I'll be sure to tell you how it plays once I straighten out the kinks myself, but I love Logan now. Let's establish that.

"I know, and I will. Once we come back from Maui. It just seems like a romantic thing, and I want to have the best summer I possibly can without any drama," Zoey says, with that unbreakable, determined resolve she's famous for. She jerks a thumb behind her, while my focus is now on my computer. "I'm going to go pack some more of my stuff. Come on, Lola."

"I'll do it later."

"No, you won't," Zoey and I automatically say at the exact same time, making Lola scoff slightly.

"Yes, I will."

Zoey stands, placing her hands on her hips, playful smile tugging at her lips, "Help me pack and I'll get you pie and peanut butter with the fat-free Doodlecake thrown in."

While my e-mail loads, I deadpan to my best friend who seems to look like a child on Christmas morning, "I can't believe you have to be bribed into packing."

"Well, believe it because it worked!" Lola turns a warning gaze to me. "Quinn, I love you but if I get another reaction by your experiments, I'll hurt you. Badly."

"Yeah," Zoey agrees, nervously. "Maybe you should make sure we don't bump into any research to copy our DNA or something while we pack."

Everything is totally harmless honestly. I can't see why my intellectual endeavors worry them so much. There have been a couple of mishaps in the past such as sudden loss of consciousness, weird symptoms brought on by my unstable chemical concoctions, explosions, germs that keep us quarantined – you know the idea, but everything is harmless. I double, even triple test my Quinnventions now.

"Everything's harmless, you guys," I assure, with sincerity. They shoot me mutual looks of disbelief. "What? I promise. Nothing will happen to you guys. You have my word on that."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Zoey."

"Seriously," Zoey warns me, as a mother would to her child. See, she clearly has that maternal instinct already. " – no stuff about cloning us and splicing our DNA and so on."

"Okay, okay, I understand."

"Good," she smiles, brightly and drags Lola away while her requests for "the Doodlecake for a down payment" are heard. I laugh quietly to myself, realizing that I'm alone in the lounge and my e-mail can finally be accessed. I e-mail my father for his permission to go to Japan since I already clear everything up with my mother before bed last night.

I'm Tokyo-bound unless my father says no, but I send him a long list as to what the consequences would be if I don't go to Japan – that the lack of genuine, authentic culture will be stifling to me, and would just not make me happy at all in general terms.

After scanning the e-mail, the anticipation only increases because my dad says it's okay as long as I know what I'm doing, and I call them when I actually land in Tokyo.

.

.

.

Now, here's a little game. It's quite popular: two truths and a lie.

Statement One: My full name is Quinn Sophia Pensky, and I was born in the year 1991.

Statement Two: My boyfriend is Logan Reese and although he's endearing, he has the tendency to overlook such details such Tokyo's runway for airplanes blowing up, and infuriates me by doing so.

Statement Three: In relation to the above, though our luggage will be waiting for us along with Logan's father, we will be jumping out of a quite lavish plane, ten thousand feet off the ground via parachute as a matter of convenience.

I leave for Tokyo in two days.

I'm trapped with a decision. I fail to see the convenience of going sky-diving smack dab in the middle of Tokyo. Logan, how he infuriates me so, though his intentions are good-natured. This is why I'm apprehensive with his plans. Vaccaro's is one example of how things get. And this is no different. I'm deciding whether I should kiss him for thinking about me for this trip I may never go on for a while or do I hold on to my fury and strangle him for even suggesting we go skydiving. For once, I don't know how to be appreciative and angry all at the same time. Next time, I'll leave the emotional juggle to Lola because she's capable of that.

I can, of course, seeing the positive in this situation. I do research on skydiving one day, and I conclude that people do this because of the rush of adrenaline. Man always sets out to defy gravity, and it would be exhilarating to experience that fear of flying before the parachute guides me down.

Some of my anger has dissipated because he's at least trying.

"Look, I've only jumped out of a plane one time. Last summer with my brother, Brett," he explains, and sighs running a hand through his hair. "The Japanese had a bit too much with the explosives again, I guess."

"I – Logan, sky-diving ten thousand feet out of a plane isn't exactly how I wanted to spend the beginning of my summer," I falter, and smile slightly at the fact he pays slightly more attention in history. I look him in the eyes, telling him the truth that resonates so loudly. "I wanted to spend it with you."

"And you will. I'll hold your hand the entire time and if it makes you feel better," Logan smirks, playfully at me, arms around enclosing me in an embrace when we sit on Michael's single bed. Their dorm looks pretty bare now, walls devoid of posters and the desk clear accept for the computer and other electronics that have to be disconnected. I could help with that. It doesn't look too difficult. His laughter rings in my ear. " – my hair will probably a mess by the time we get to mid-jump."

I shake my head, "You'll never change, will you?"

"Why? Do you want me to?"

"No," I reply, with a gentle tone, pressing my lips to his soft, warm ones before parting. "Absolutely not. I love you for being you," I tell him.

"Good, because I wasn't counting on change."

But I have secondary fears, and I feel foolish for asking but I do anyway. Turning my eyes away from one of the not-so-interesting spot on the wall, I gaze at him hopefully, "Are you sure, you'll hold my hand the entire time?"

"Yep. Parachute and all. Cross my heart, Quinn."

Right. That's why I love him.

.

.

.

Currently, Zoey's in Maui with Chase.

Lola is in New York, starting her summer off with a family reunion – she often says how large her family is, and she promises pictures, so I can't wait for that.

Michael and Lisa go in between Atlanta, and Texas for the duration of the summer. I think that's sweet and shows the depth of how they feel for one another.

I even talk to James for a while.

Where is my current location? Well, I'm almost literally headed for Tokyo, and the steward Charlie is quite nice. He's the one that notifies us that we're nearly over Tokyo and have to jump precisely or we'll miss it. It won't be comical if we land somewhere near Korea, or in Vietnam. Charlie opens the air hatch door, my stomach turning fiercely and even parachutes on. The view is beautiful from here with the rolling countryside and the bustling flurry of little people that embodies Tokyo.

"Have fun in Tokyo, you two! When you land, there will be a limo at the checkpoint waiting to take you to the hotel! Everything has been arranged!" Charlie yells, over the rushing wind, with a huge grin in place. "Quinn, it was a pleasure!"

"Likewise!"

Logan grabs my hand, like he promises back at PCA quite tightly like I'll slip away if his grip loosens in the slightest. It makes me feel protected by him, even though I know I can very well protect myself, but I'll allow myself to be the damsel in distress while he plays vigilante.

"You ready?"

I answer Logan's question with a nod, the wind blowing my hair back. I can imagine the looks on everyone's faces in September when I tell them about this encounter. Something tells me I won't forget it either. I take in a deep breath, the adrenaline pumping, the little hairs on the back of my neck which are standing at attention, I'm sure.

"Yeah!"

Thousand feet of air between us, as we hold on and mutually jump.

All logic says this is crazy.

But the adrenaline rush is so strong, and the feeling of defying gravity (not with a chamber) even if it's just for a little while is wonderful.

Doing it with my boyfriend nonetheless: "priceless" as quoted by those Visa commercials.

And it truly is.

Even with the free falling feeling stopping due to the large and nearly deafening whoosh of the parachute opening widely to gentle guide us down into Japan, Logan keeps his promise.

He doesn't let go of me. Not once.

The mere thought makes me smile.

A/N: 10 pages later and I'm actually finished. Yay. I'm kinda neutral on this one, but I wanted it out of my system ASAP, so I don't totally hate it. Just something I had to write or it would pick at me until it drove me to the brink of insanity. So, I hope you enjoy that. I've been on a Quogan kick lately so there's another Quogan oneshot in the works plus another drabble/snippet of The Little Things In Between.

Someone actually motivated me to write this oneshot. So, thank you SchllingKlaus for spouting out a bunch of ignorant crap which made me set out to prove you wrong. It's only going to drive me and a bunch of other "right winged fundamentalist trolls" to write stuff that makes sense. So thank you. I mean, you're a fortysomething year old dude who just types up FF and stupid ideologies out of an old Windows 95 computer, I bet.

Get a job, DUDE! And get out of your mother's basement. It's good for you.

In closing, I say to you: Who's the troll now, FOOL? Oh, yeah. YOU! Congrats!

…

Ahem.

Now that I have that out of my system (I needed to do that – seriously), the rest of you supportive readers review like the awesome people you are while I work on my other oneshot and crash. Forgive any errors you may find.

-Erika