Abigail stretched out on the pillow and sighed as her soap opera ended. The time was getting late, she knew, and Logan would be coming home soon. She really should run and hide, lest he get his hands on her once again, as he had every other night this week since her failed escape attempt. For some reason, though, she had no interest in moving. Why was that?
She struggled to understand her own feelings. She wasn't just being lazy, she knew. This ran much deeper than that. Something had changed, and she couldn't quite figure out what it was. Brooke's departure did much more than simply turn Abby into the sole object of Logan's pleasure. The entirety of her situation changed, and she couldn't understand why.
When he first brought her home that morning, Logan locked the still-sobbing Abigail in a cage and left her there the rest of the day. By the time he returned, she was almost catatonic, giving no reaction when he opened up her prison and left her some food. He made no attempt to pick her up or abuse her that night, though, and when he finally went to bed, she arose and slipped down to the floor, hiding for the rest of the night in the comfortable, familiar stereo speaker.
The next day, they were both seemingly back to their normal selves. Logan came home and hunted for her, but she kept to herself. Finally he lured her out with a chunk of pepperoni, and as soon as he saw she was inside the wall, he used the smoke trick to get her out. Curiously, though, he didn't abuse her at all. Instead he simply held her gingerly in his hand as he watched television, and then gently let her go when the time came for him to go to bed.
The rest of the week was more of the same. Logan spoke only rarely, usually only at the moment of capture, or to tell her good night. The sexual torture stopped completely, much to Abigail's surprise. What kind of game was he playing? Was this the old catching-flies-with-honey routine?
As she lay on the pillow watching the credits roll for her soap, she knew one thing was true--if that was Logan's plan, it was working beautifully. Already she felt like she had no reason to run from him. The fear seemed to be gone almost completely. How was that possible after only a week? Surely she couldn't be suckered so easily, not after so many months of avoiding his tricks and traps, and especially not with the obvious penalties if she was wrong.
Yet, what would those penalties be? That was the crux of the matter, she realized. What did Logan have to gain by being nice to her? He could take her any time he wanted. He already demonstrated that much, because no matter where she hid, he always found her, or forced her to come out when she got too hungry or thirsty to stay concealed. If he wanted her, why didn't he just use her like always? What was going on? What was different now?
The answer was obvious, now that she had the question right. The difference was Brooke. She was gone, and it was just her and Logan now. He no longer had a choice, did he? He couldn't count on the two of them fighting amongst themselves and giving the other one up to his pleasures. How he must have enjoyed watching us betray and backstab each other, she thought. Was he just bored with me now? Was the thrill all in the interaction between his two tiny captives? No, that wasn't it. Something else was going on, but what?
She heard the keys jangle in the front door lock and looked up at the sound. Every reflex in her tiny body warned her to flee towards the nearest bolthole, but she froze instead. No, she told herself, not tonight. I'm not hiding from him any more, unless he gives me a reason to. As long as he's being nice, I might as well enjoy it.
Logan walked into the house, shut the door, and took a few steps inside, his head swiveling about as he tried to spot his fleeing captive. He was so sure she'd be running that he didn't even notice her sitting motionless on the pillow until almost half a minute passed. "Oh, there you are!" he said in surprise, seeing her looking up at him. "I didn't expect to see you there."
"Hello, Logan," she answered with a sigh. The moment hung in the air awkwardly, as both looked at each other, trying to figure out what to say next.
"Wow," he finally spat out. "You know, in all the time I've known you, I've never once heard you say hello to me."
"Yeah," she answered, getting up and sliding off the pillow onto the floor near his feet. "I've never waited for you to come into the room before, either. I'm not scared of you any more, Logan."
He kneeled down in front of her and settled down comfortably on his side, smiling at the tiny woman in the pink doll bikini as she leaned back against the huge mound of cushioning next to her. She looked absolutely adorable, he thought, and the fact that she wasn't running away made him feel strangely content and satisfied. "I'm glad," he replied happily. "Ever since that night, after I brought you home last time, it hasn't been the same."
"What do you mean?" she asked curiously. "I was just wondering about that same thing."
"Well, it's hard to explain," he replied. "I've been thinking about it a lot, though. Before, when Brooke was still here, I was starting to get bored. I got so used to you two, I was taking you for granted. Then, when she left, it was like a shock to my system. I finally realized I wasn't really happy with the way things were. Oh, don't get me wrong, I liked some of it. The obvious parts, anyway. I just wanted--"
"What?" she stared up at him almost hopefully.
"Something more," he replied with a sigh. "I wanted something more, okay? I think I have for a long time, but something was always stopping me. It took me a while to figure out what that something was, but I think I know."
"Let me guess," Abby replied. "It was Brooke, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "How'd you know that?"
"It's obvious," she replied with a wan smile. "I was thinking the same thing. When she was here, it was like a competition between us, all the time. When I wasn't thinking about getting away from you, I mean."
Logan chuckled, and to his surprise, she laughed a little bit too. He never imagined any scenario where she might laugh in his presence, and once again, he felt buoyed by her reaction. "Yeah," he agreed, "and as long as Brooke was around, I felt like I couldn't choose one of you over the other. It's crazy, I know, but I didn't want one of you to feel like you won your friendly little competition."
She nodded and settled back against the pillow, looking up at his massive eyes hovering about a foot away. She couldn't stare into both of them simultaneously, so instead she just fixed her gaze on the enormous blue orb on the right. In the past, she always shied away whenever that eye locked on her tiny form, but now, she felt not the slightest twinge of fear.
He studied her for a moment, and then, shifting back to his knees, he positioned himself right in front of her. "Abigail," he asked slowly, "would you mind terribly if I picked you up?"
Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Are--are you serious?" she stammered. "Y-you're asking my--my permission?"
"Yes," he replied in complete seriousness. "Yes, I'm asking. I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do any more, Abby."
"But--but why?" she asked, totally flabbergasted. "I'm too tiny to do anything to stop you. You made that clear a long time ago. You can do whatever you want, and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it."
"There is now," he said with a tone of absolute sincerity. "I was wrong before, to do those things to you. Everything I've done has been a horrible mistake, and I want to make it up to you, so I'm giving you a choice now. I'm not forcing anything on you any more. Now you can say no."
He watched her for a minute, studying her reaction. She didn't seem to understand. He might as well have just told her some complete non sequitur, like the sky was red, or Brooke McAllister had been nominated for sainthood. Abigail's gaze traveled around the floor near his knees for a while, and finally she looked up at him with an expression of sudden resolve. "All right, then," she told him. "All right, Logan, my answer is no. No, you can't pick me up. Not now, and not ever again, unless I ask."
He nodded. That was the expected answer, after all. "Very well," he agreed with a smile. "If that's what you want, Abby, I'll respect your wishes. I'm going to go change now and fix us some food, and then we'll watch a movie or something, okay?"
"Sure," she answered with a sigh, watching in numb surprise as he stood up and trudged away. He seemed sad and disappointed, but what else could he have expected? She wasn't about to roll over and be his friend now just because he made one little promise, was she? No, of course not.
Still, as she watched his massive legs disappear up the distant staircase, she couldn't help but imagine those gigantic fingers wrapping around her body, bearing her up into the air to hold her in front of his tremendous, smiling face. She always hated the way he treated her like a toy or plaything, and yet, despite all of that, he had a gentleness about him when he put his mind to it. There were times, admittedly few and far between, when he held her in his palm and brought her to the brink of total bliss. Never quite all the way there, though, because she always resisted, at least in the hidden corners of her mind. There was a reason for that, she now knew, and that reason was finally out of the picture.
What if Logan was really being honest? What if he really had changed? If he could be kind and gentle, perhaps being with him wouldn't be all that bad any more. Abby knew she was still his prisoner, and probably always would be, but at least now she might be able to bear it.
True to his word, Logan came back downstairs after changing clothes and fixed them both some dinner. He didn't try to keep it from her or use it as bait, but instead set down a small plate in front of Abby and let her eat in silence.
After the meal, he put the dishes away and came back out to watch television, sitting on the sofa and letting Abigail get comfortable on her pillow. After about an hour, though, she climbed up onto the couch and settled down against his leg, saying nothing. Logan reached up and began to stroke her hair quietly, and she didn't protest.
Though neither of them spoke, they were both thinking the same thing at that moment: this might just work out after all.
And one other thing was certain, too, they both knew instinctively. Neither of them were going to miss Brooke one bit.