Summary: Counting sheep won't get her anywhere. Neither will counting the number of times he's lied. Oneshot.

Disclaimer: I definitely do not own these characters.

A/N: Um … I don't really know where this came from; it's completely and totally random. It's also my first attempt at writing Logan/Parker, or even Parker, really, so I apologize if she seems at all OOC. I also apologize for the random fluffiness that this piece became – I wrote it to kind of get back into the swing of fic, and it just took on a life of its own. Feedback is, as usual, my crack. Enjoy.


Staring at the ceiling, she sighs for what feels like the ten millionth time and once again glances at the empty bed on the other side of the dorm room. Mac is out with Bronson, most likely having an incredible time, and she's stuck here with nothing and no one to entertain her. It's midnight on a Thursday and she doesn't have any morning classes tomorrow, yet it hasn't yet occurred to her to call anyone and see if they're free for a rendezvous in the cafeteria.

The thought makes her fingers pause as they tug at the loose strings of her comforter and she frowns, sitting up slowly on the single mattress. Grabbing for her cell phone, she flips through her contact list and frowns at every single name she reads until she gets to the two-syllable listing that has recently started to make her heart do a little skip.

Like hopscotch, only internal and not nearly as childish.

Parker presses the call button on her phone and sits up further, nervously biting at her bottom lip while she holds the plastic against her ear to listen to the line ring. One, two, thr—


"Hey, Logan. It's Parker."

"Ah, the classic introduction rendered unnecessary by the invention of caller id," he teases her and she rolls her eyes, wishing she could hit him with something for the comment. Then a warm chuckle filters into her eardrum and she loses the desire. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you doing anything?"

"Well I should be sleeping, since it's long past my bedtime…"

"Like you ever go to sleep before two," she retorts. For a moment, he's silent, and she's about to check that he's still there when he loudly fakes a yawn. "Stop it! Let's do something."

"At midnight on a Thursday? Don't you have classes tomorrow?"

It stings, the fact that he doesn't know her schedule when she knows almost every aspect of his, but she brushes the ridiculous thought off and slides off her bed to stand in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the dorm room door.

"Not until the afternoon," she answers his question in what she hopes is a neutral tone of voice and then waits for him to suggest where they should go. At this point, she's open to anything as long as it means she gets to see him, but she's not entirely certain that he's up for the same thing. And she hates it, and she mouths the sentiment as she looks at her bed-hair and pink princess pajamas in the mirror.

"Okay. Coffee?"

"Yeah, because caffeine will help me sleep."

"I could always just let you go back to counting sheep, Parker," he says seriously. Her brow furrows and she really wishes she could see his facial expression right now, because she isn't good enough at reading him yet to tell what he means just by the tone of his voice. She's a visual learner; she always has been.

"Meet me in the cafeteria," she requests softly. He murmurs something that sounds like agreement and she sits back on the edge of her bed as she hangs up, waiting to get dressed in order to give him time to drive to campus.


Somehow, he gets there before she does and she smiles slightly, furrowing her brow as she crosses the room to meet him at the table he's claimed. He's spread comfortably on one of the awkward plastic chairs in the center of the collection of round surfaces and her smile widens at the fact that they're the only people there and he still refuses to sit at a border-table.

"Now how is it that you managed to get here before me? You don't even live on campus," she sits down across from him and he picks his head up, locking eyes with her and smirking.

"Maybe I was already here."

"And what, pray tell, were you doing at Hearst College at midnight on a Thursday?"

"You know," he sits up and leans forward, smirk widening into the tiniest and cutest smile she's ever seen. His hand waves with the flippant introduction to his answer and then rests on the table, "Looking for someone."

Raising an eyebrow, Parker folds her hands under her chin and stares at him expectantly. Logan grins and cocks his head to the side. "A girl, actually."

"Ooh," she puckers her lips dramatically, "Anyone I know?"

"I think she's in your Monday morning class, actually," he returns as he sits back in his seat again. She narrows her eyes at him and then laughs at his innocent expression, lowering her folded hands to rest on the flat surface of the table.

"You were coming to see me?"

"I never said any such thing," he looks outraged, though there's humor in his tone and she smiles brightly at him. After a brief staring contest, he leans forward and grabs her left hand with his right, carefully pushing each of his fingers into the webs of skin connecting hers. "Though I have to admit, I was a little disappointed that I couldn't surprise you in your room."

"Damn me and my overwhelming urges to call you," she shakes her head in feigned disappointment. He nods seriously and she brushes her hair out of her eyes, sighing slightly as his thumb strokes across her knuckles.

"You should really get over this fascination you have with me. I can't keep having my phone ring in the middle of the night. Dick gets grumpy when he's woken up."

"He'll get over it, I'm sure."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"


"About Dick?"


Parker frowns at the sudden turn in conversation and retracts her hand from his, folding her arms across her chest protectively. Logan Echolls is a challenge, one that can't be solved by reading his facial expressions. And she hates it, because even if she can tell when he's lying, it doesn't seem to matter. He does it anyway.

Being here with him is making her hypersensitive and a little too confused for comfort, so she doesn't see sleep washing over her anywhere in the near future. For a moment, she questions why she bothered to call him at all.

"Am I sure about what?" she asks for clarification and wants to jump for joy when her voice doesn't waver with the words, but she refrains for the sake of keeping her cool in front of this man that turns her in so many directions with just one look. Parker Lee doesn't get flustered around guys, and she's not about to start now.

"This," he says vaguely, gesturing absently between them. Her heart jumps another round of hopscotch, double-time, and she takes a deep breath as she makes eye contact with him across the table.

"Are you?" she retorts smoothly. His eyes reflect the surprise that she can feel burning in her own and she smiles softly, carefully, somewhat tiredly.


She stands and grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him to her and kissing him as hard as she can. It's impulsive, reckless, a little stupid, but when she pulls away from the chaste contact she's as breathless as hell and she decides she absolutely doesn't care.

Because that? Was Logan Echolls being honest. And it was adorable.

He kisses her again, softer this time, and tugs at her hand until she maneuvers her way around the table to stand in between his legs. The height difference when she's standing above him is fairly substantial and he rises after a moment, tangling his fingers through her hair and breaking their lips apart only to attach them two seconds later.

Counting sheep won't get her anywhere. Neither will counting the number of times he's lied. So Parker decides that sleep is overrated and that she'd much rather live in these moments where he actually shows her that he's as vulnerable as she is. And that she really doesn't hate the challenge as much as she thinks she does.

But she holds tight to the sentiment because the banter is half the fun.