Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush.

Chapter Three

When Logan had gone, Carlos was left alone in the bathroom, standing oh so awkwardly there. He moped for a few seconds about how he wouldn't get to enjoy his new body—and joyously deceive his friends, relishing in the idea of taunting and humiliating Logan, also. Snapping out of his hopeless desire, he began observing everything in the bathroom again. He now recognized it was Kendall and Logan's bathroom. Or rather…Kendall and Carlos'-mind-is-in-Logan's-body-bathroom. Carlos grumbled something incomprehensible and made his way in front of the sink mirror. Looking at Logan's reflection the first time in the hospital had been maddening. Looking at it a second time was spooky—like being surrounded by a bunch of evil clones.

Without thinking, Carlos pushed his bottom lip up with his index finger and giggled at the image. He pushed it further, and laughed more. Getting an idea, he pinched his cheeks, making them turn a dark red, and stretched them to the point where it hurt. He then put his thumbs on the outer corners of his new eyes and stretched them also, bursting out in laughter again at the ridiculous faces he was making. He was about to press his cheeks together and purse his lips, wanting to pretend to be a fish, when there came a knock on the door. Carlos quickly straightened himself out, back going a bit too erect. Kendall came in, looking as tired as a dog that's been eating too much.

"Logan…? What are you do–"

"Nothing! Get out, Kendall!" shouted Carlos out of shock. He shoved the blonde out the door and slammed it shut, making sure to lock it. He breathed heavily, suddenly wondering why he'd done that. Shaking his head, he went back to making funny faces. He snickered to himself, but was cut off when the door started being pounded on.

"Dude, aren't you supposed to be in bed? What are you doing?" said Kendall.

"Nothing. I'm feeling better now," answered Carlos, which he wasn't—sort of. A slight headache had formed but shortly receded. "I'm good."

"Then can I use the bathroom? I n–"

"Later, I'm busy right now."

It was silent for a while before Kendall sighed and said, "Fine. I'll go eat breakfast first."

It took ten exact seconds for Carlos to grasp Kendall's answer and remember Logan's words. He flung the door open, stumbling as he ran out of the bathroom. "Kendall! Kendall, wai–"

He stopped on his tracks, eyes going wide. Kendall was still in the room, luckily, making brief relief wash through Carlos; but that wasn't the reason why his eyes had grown to size of quarters. Kendall had been right in the middle of changing his boxers. A dry lump of nothing settled on Carlos' taut throat as a blazing heat spread all over his face, cold sweat producing on his forehead and running down his temples down the side of his neck. Carlos opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue had seemed to disappear. Kendall, on the other hand, was in a much worse condition. His face, the total opposite of Carlos', was ghost-white, expression contorted into a mix of twitchy eyes and lips. Worst of all, Carlos was trying hard not to look further down.

Kendall's mouth went agape, eyebrows scrunching. "Logan, get out! Get back in the bathroom or something! What are you now—a pervert?" shrieked Kendall as he pulled up the fresh pair of boxers, finally covering up his private.

Carlos yelped when Kendall threw a pillow at him. It missed his face by a centimeter as Carlos ran out of the room, subconsciously heading to the kitchen. Unfortunately, he hadn't noticed that James—all tidy and clean already, hair looking as perfect as it could get—was there, carrying a bowl full of sugary cereal and creamy milk in his hands. Unable to skid to a stop, Carlos bumped into him, causing for the contents in the bowl to spill all over his taller friend.

"Logan!" cried James. "My hair! Oh, my God, you're dead after I clean myself up!" Fuming, he put the empty bowl in the dishwasher and stomped into his room, droplets of milk dribbling down his hair and clothes.

Carlos gulped. "Oops," he whispered scratchily.

"And you're going to be a zombie by the time I'm done with you. Jeez, Carlos, you can't stop being clumsy even when you're in my body."

Carlos jerked his head around and found himself at the dining table. He was about to scream and run away again—since, really, the picture was just too much for his currently overwhelmed mind—when he remembered that was Logan—in his body. Carlos shuddered at the eccentric realization before he sat next to Logan. Now closer to his friend, the Latino noticed that he was wearing a very…un-Carlos type of outfit.

"What's up with those clothes?" asked Carlos, staring with straight eyebrows at the unfamiliar clothes.

Logan looked down at the light blue vest that was enveloping a plain, white shirt. "What, this?" He tugged at the collar of the vest. He smiled—a very Logan-type of smile that stood out on his new child-like face features. "I found it in your closet, hiding at the end. It suits, right? I think these clothes make you look better, Carlos."

Carlos narrowed his eyes at the vest. "Why don't you take off that thing? Then I'll look better. Maybe put on another shirt. With a jacket…or something."

Logan shook his head. "No. Besides, all your other clothes are…"

Carlos cut in, "Normal?" He kept glaring at the vest that hugged his body, wondering how the heck that thing made him look attractive. He looked like a nerd, actually. A total nerd. He looked like Logan; this made him shudder again.

"You wish," retorted Logan.

"Of course," thought Carlos, "He'd think that. My clothes are perfectly normal! His idea of normal is wack."

"Anyway," continued Logan, "I'm going to wear this, and that's final. If we manage to switch back today, then you can change if you want to. But as long as I'm in your body, my liking is the only option, not yours."

Carlos stayed silent, wondering whether to agree or not. Still conflicted, another urgent thought popped up. "What…what about my… Where's my helmet?" he snapped, scowling deeply. He slammed his fists on the table. "You didn't get rid of it, did you?" Carlos sniffed, ready to cry. "How could you, Logan? My–"

"Carlos, relax," hissed Logan. "Jeez, I hate it when you come up with your own ideas—they don't make sense at all. Your helmet's in your room, on your bed. And don't even think I'm going to wear that thing, no matter how many different puppy faces you make."

Carlos scoffed. "I never said anything about that. Why would I let you wear my helmet? Are you delusional, dude?" Carlos laughed mockingly, enjoying the way his new tone of voice made his laugh sound determined. Grinning, he even decided to boast, "You know, I like this. I kinda get to sound smarter. No! In…in…inge…ingenous!"

Logan rolled his eyes. "You're not lasting that long. When we switch back you'll be whole Carlos again. Stupid, reckless Carlos. With your stupid helmet."

Carlos scowled. "That's mean—and don't diss my helmet. Carlos isn't supposed to be mean. At least I'm trying to act like you."

"Well, I'm not Carlos. My name is Logan Mitchell, and I am trapped inside my best friend's body. That doesn't mean I have to be him. Logan's mentality is still here—intact. All that has changed is the physical side. Nothing more."

Carlos pouted. Though before he could go on, Mrs. Knight entered the living room with a robe on. She yawned silently, putting a hand on her mouth. Opening her eyes, she caught sight of Logan and Carlos. She smiled gently at them, and spoke in her sweet, motherly voice, "Are you boys doing fine?"

Logan blinked, thinking, "Fine? Fine? How the heck could I be fine? I'm stuck in Carlos body and Carlos is stuck in mine! Does that sound fine to you? No! Because this is a crazy situation! Crazy, I say!" But he didn't say this. She was referring to sickness and injuries—which Logan and Carlos had been lucky to avoid; they only had a few bruises on their arms, Carlos' body having more since he had been climbing walls before they…switched bodies. He smiled and said out loud, "Feeling better by the second, Mrs. Knight."

"Y-yeah," said Carlos. "Injuries. Uh, plasma in blood—fine and stuff." He had been trying to sound smart, but instead sounded dumber than ever. Maybe Logan was right—smartness didn't last. Mrs. Knight, in response, gave him a quizzical look before she half-smiled sympathetically, and headed to the kitchen while Logan shot him a glare.

"'Plasma in blood—fine and stuff'? Are you kidding me, Carlos?" he whispered angrily.

Carlos grinned sheepishly, acknowledging his error but not admitting it. "I thought it was pretty good."

Logan deadpanned as he started drumming his fingers against the table's wooden surface. "You know what? I can't wait any longer. I'm going to try to reason with Mrs. Knight right now." Rising from his chair, avoiding his friend's big eyes, he walked into the kitchen, leaning by the entrance. He took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Mrs. Knight?"

The woman quit her search for breakfast in the refrigerator to look at Logan. "Yes, Carlos? Don't tell me you want dinosaur chicken for breakfast."

At the spoken words of dinosaur and chicken put together in a sentence solely about breakfast, Logan entirely forgot what he was going to say and instead nodded vigorously, grinning just like Carlos would have at the mentioning of heaven food.

Mrs. Knight chuckled. "Alright. How about you and Logan go get Kendall, James and Katie while I start cooking, okay?"

Dazed, Logan could only stutter out an 'okay'. He started back towards the dining table, sitting down.

Carlos had a sly grin on, looking at Logan with mischievous eyes. "So you figured out my charm, huh?"

Logan bit on his lip. "Getting anything you want without having to plead for it?" he answered, looking at Carlos uncertainly.

"Yep! Although, it only works sometimes." He lowered his voice, an eager smile on his pink lips, "Does this mean we don't have to tell them?"

Logan considered without any real thoughts. He was too caught up in the moment, unable to think straight because of dinosaur chicken—during breakfast, a privilege. "For now," he added almost reluctantly. "I guess…we could make something fun—and interesting—out of this whole…uh, switched bodies thing."

Carlos punched the air and whispered an enthusiastic, "Yes!"

ooo

"Where are we going, James? Tell me! I wanna know, I wanna know, I wa–"

"Shut up, Logan!" James glared at Carlos. He was still slightly irritated about what had happened in the morning, but had forgiven the boy, overall—the dinosaur chicken made up for half of it, though; he'd take that than cereal any day. "What is wrong with you? Don't you remember? Last week you said if I could help you get a girl ever since Camille broke up with you. So now, we're going to the bookstore to find your lucky smart girl." Suddenly, James stopped walking. "Here we are!" His glare was gone, replaced by a beaming expression, puzzling Carlos as they stood in front a large building with books showing off their engraved spines on the big display windows. "Now, remember to stay cool. If there's a girl next to you just grab a book and pretend to read it—or since it's you, you won't have to pretend, but just in case—and glance up at her occasionally. Give her a nice, charming smile. Don't make it awkward for you or her by talking about that science-y or math stuff. She'll stare at you for a second and walk away like that." He snapped his fingers as if to demonstrate the quickness of the girl's rejection.

When James finished his speech, Carlos immediately recalled something important. He looked at James appallingly. "Wait, but isn't Logan– I mean, I-I'm still dating Camille!" Carlos gasped in an exaggerated manner. "You lied to me!" He settled on those words, ultimately baffled because James never lied to him. Not to Carlos, at least. He didn't know if James lied to Logan; it was pretty obvious now, though.

James sighed. "Okay, you caught me. I really brought you here so you could be my wingman."

Carlos took the time to analyze James' words, wishing Logan's intelligence had permanently lingered. His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, and he stared at his friend with probing eyes. "You're lying again. Tell me the truth, James! Or…or I'll run away and won't you help you with anything!"

James raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, Logan, don't be like Carlos."

Carlos almost wanted to exclaim, 'That's because I am Carlos!' but he kept his mouth shut. James' eyebrow had been accompanied by a twitching smile. Knowing Logan, Carlos figured the boy would have trudged right behind James after quick scold—to join in on the scheme, end it, or fix it into something better. And so, Carlos did exactly that.

ooo

Right after Carlos left with James, Logan remained seated at the dining table. A tense pain was crawling up his shoulders, but he rolled them before it could fully claim its place. A tall glass of orange juice was sitting before him, and he took a small sip out of it as he tried to figure out why the heck he'd agreed with Carlos in the end. Stupid dinosaur chicken. The pain returned; he rolled his shoulders again, took another sip of sweet yet tart orange juice. "How are we going to switch back bodies?" he thought. "Something must have happened during the rainstorm. Maybe–"

"Carlos, you want to come with us?"

Logan almost said, 'Carlos isn't here, Kendall,' but he momentarily forgot he was Carlos. Kendall was addressing him. "Where?" he questioned casually.

"My mom's taking Katie and me to the ice rink." He grinned. "How about it? We can play a rough game of hockey."

Rough and hockey? Dinosaur and chicken sounded better. But, too full to eat any more of the chicken-made prehistoric animals, Logan just agreed with a timid nod.

"Are you sure? You're not in pain?" asked Mrs. Knight.

He remembered when Carlos had happily skipped out of the apartment, trailing right behind James. Mrs. Knight had asked him before if he was fine enough to go outside, and Carlos had just nodded with a cheerful smile that quite didn't settle on his new face features. In the end, Mrs. Knight had told him to be careful. But here he was, being offered a hockey game, which was more risky than a walk with James. Or maybe not, since it was, after all, James and Carlos—and God knows what kind of chaos those two can commit together. Then again, James didn't know that was Carlos inside of Logan's body. Thinking all this made Logan's head hurt, so he forced himself to jump back to reality.

"Not really. Like I said, getting better by the second," he answered simply.

Once they gathered all their necessary equipment, they settled in the car. Arriving there, they put on their skates, plus their necessary protection (a request from Mrs. Knight since she was over-protective) and they headed to the ice rink—which was pleasantly empty. Katie settled on skating by the edges and Mrs. Knight went off to buy herself lunch. Logan gulped as he gripped his hockey stick. Not because he was playing against Kendall, but because he was greatly concerned for his agility. His mind was full of it, but Carlos' body was not; and he was afraid that he would probably fall and break every bone. So when Kendall said if he was ready, Logan choked out a scared 'yes'. Kendall grinned like a psychopath, looking fierce and all, and shot into full speed.

Too fast for Logan's new vision, Kendall skated past him, taking the hockey puck with him. An echo of a laugh hit Logan on the back of his head, making his spine tingle with fear, which meant the game had commenced. Quite shockingly, everything went well and fun throughout. That is, until Kendall really did fulfill his promise of a rough game. He cackled like a hyena, and Logan immediately went into a state of extreme panic. His hold on his hockey stick tightened as he skated after Kendall—listening to the skit skit of Katie and Kendall's skates scrape against ice—and prepared for the worst.

ooo

Carlos, regrettably stuck with that choose-the-first-thing-you-see-mind of his, instantly swooned over the first girl he saw in each aisle. To make matters worse—for him, at least—his quirkiness returned as soon as it disappeared, and pretty soon he was stuttering, blabbering or being slapped at by every girl he attempted to talk to. Because of this, he didn't remember that he was supposed to find out what James' scheme was. That is, until he spotted James talking smoothly to the girls Carlos had tried to flirt with. And then the Latino remembered and realized simultaneously.

James used him. Screw the crap of wingman. Carlos now knew (after thinking it through) that by being Logan—a nerdy guy (and of course adding his own gracelessness)—he wouldn't get much luck; James would then step in, amend the meeting between nerdy boy and hot girl and score a number. Basically, it was James vs. Logan. The prize was a girl—or girls. And James had won unfairly. Growling low to himself, Carlos rolled his neck, preparing to teach James a lesson. Heck, he could get girls, too. Walking up to one with short, blonde hair, he stroke up a mediocre conversation which then turned into a casual, joking one. All was going well—until Carlos saw Camille out of the corner of his eye.

Oh boy.

ooo

It was around six when they all came home at the same time. James was snickering all the way into his bedroom; Carlos was sniffling and whimpering; Kendall was giving sheepish expressions as he entered the kitchen to get a drink; Katie was holding in laughter as she entered her room to change into much more comfortable clothes; Logan was also silently sobbing, and Mrs. Knight was rubbing her neck tiredly, not believing what was happening.

"You boys should be more careful," she said, aiming her words mostly towards Kendall and Logan's direction. "I don't want to run to the hospital again."

"Carlos should've been prepared, though," said Kendall. "Anyway, I'm going to take a nap. I'm tired. Wake me up when the food's ready, mom." That said, he put the used cup on the kitchen counter, and walked into his room, closing the door silently.

Meanwhile, Logan and Carlos sat on the sofa as Mrs. Knight got ready to cook. Once they plopped down on the orange couch, Logan pulled Carlos by the sleeve and whispered, "What happened to you?"

Carlos giggled sadly as he pressed a hand to his throbbing, red cheek. "James and I went to the bookstore. He thought I couldn't get a girl, so I wanted to prove it to him that I could. But…Camille was there." Logan's eyes went wide but Carlos just grinned coyly. "She slapped me about ten times and then kissed me in front of the girl I'd been talking to. Then the other girl slapped me five times. It was awful."

Logan's eye twitched. "You…you kissed Camille?"

Sensing his growing jealousy, Carlos freed himself from Logan's suddenly-tight grip, and stuttered, "U-um… Hey, guess what? I-I haven't taken a shower all day, s-so I'll just—eep!" Carlos jumped just as Logan lunged at him. "Shower!" he screamed, running into his former room, startling James. Carlos walked back out slowly with apple-red cheeks, and ran into Kendall's room, screaming 'shower' again.

Mrs. Knight peeked from the kitchen, shifting her narrowed eyes back and forth. Once she made sure no one was hurt, she returned back to her awaiting pan.

After his rage had faded a bit, Logan took in a deep breath and let it out. Thinking rationally now, he realized he hadn't taken a shower all day either. He rose from the couch, and walked towards the door of James' room, hoping the tall boy wasn't hogging the bathroom. When he entered the room, he saw that James had a magazine to his face, snickering behind it, probably about what had happened at the bookstore. Logan rolled his eyes and stripped off his clothes. He flashbacked to this morning when he'd been changing boxers and looking at the ceiling all the while, willing himself not to look down. Because, really, looking at your best friend's dick, especially when you're in his body, was just…odd. So he'd passed those minutes without a burning face. But now he was about to take a shower—and showers meant cleaning yourself…all over. He cursed under his breath for being so picky about being clean as he entered the shower, and turned on the hot water.

Ten minutes later, Logan and Carlos stepped out of their showers. It was only six fifteen, and so they put on a pair of comfortable clothes and walked out of their rooms. They stared at each other, each leaning against the door they'd just come out of. No one was in the living room. They could smell food already, but Mrs. Knight was absent. Although there was a faint sound of water running from the kitchen bathroom, so they both figured she'd gone in there to wash a stain. Even so, the atmosphere was extremely intense. And then, the unexpected happened. A loud laugh erupted from Logan. He fell to the floor, rolling wildly on it. Carlos' mouth went slightly agape, eyebrows scrunching.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

Logan kept laughing, clutching his stomach to keep the cramps away. Once he was done, he stood up with wobbling legs, and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"What's so funny?" cried Carlos.

The smart boy giggled a few times before he answered in a strained voice, "You're…you're…you're so small… I didn't know…"

Immediately, Carlos' face went a dark shade of red. "That's not funny!" he screamed.

"You're so small!" Logan squeaked out, starting to laugh again.

"You're-you're a pervert, you know that, Logan!" shouted Carlos angrily.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

"Good. Because you're not that big, either."

"Yeah, but at least I'm bigger than you," blurted out Logan. There was an awkward pause after that. Then, another burst of laughter. "You're such a pipsqueak!"

"Am not! Shut up!" said Carlos, face now red like a tomato.

Two minutes of the same conversation led to a cat fight. Inside their rooms, Kendall and James had been listening to the whole thing. They had on the most baffled faces—unlike Katie, who had a sliver of her door open, looking at the fighting pair with raised eyebrows. "That's it. I am not having dinner tonight," she thought as she closed her door.

A/N: Well, I finally managed to update. Gosh, I'm such a lazy bastard. xD