With a thankful sigh Logan sat down on the couch with his beer. Everyone had gone on a field trip for the day and he had the television all to himself, hockey time!

BAMF

"Holy shit elf!" Logan screamed as he jumped off the couch.

"Guten Morgen Herr Logan!" said Kurt pleasantly. "I seem to have missed de field trip," he added.

Logan groaned inwardly, now he was stuck with a teleporting spaz the rest of the day! He growled and changed the channel.

"Logan I vould like to vatch Days of Our Lives," Kurt suddenly spoke up.

"NO," growled Logan.

BAMF suddenly the remote wasn't in his hand, Kurt had it up on the chandelier.

"You little fuck wad! Give it back!" Logan shouted as he jumped to reach Kurt.

"Ach, nein," replied Kurt as he changed the channel to Days of Our Lives. Logan gave up and decided to get a snack out of the kitchen. He was just opening a bag of chips.

BAMF "Danke schön, Logan," said Kurt grabbing the bag of chips and teleporting back to the living room. With a shake of his head Logan grabbed another bag of chips and three more beers.

"Don't kill the bastard, don't kill the bastard," he kept repeating to himself as he walked back to the living room. Kurt was hanging upside down from the chandelier, again, when he entered the room.

"Kurt change the channel," he growled as he sat on the couch.

"Can't here you do it," he said dropping the remote. Logan didn't see it coming and the remote bounced off the top of his head with a clink noise. Logan turned red trying not to incapacitate the teleporter. As calmly as any pissed of Wolverine could do, Logan picked up the remote and changed it to the hockey game.

"Logan I don't vant to vatch de hockey game," came Kurt's whinny voice from the chandelier.

"Then go somewhere else," growled Logan. BAMF The remote was gone again, but Kurt had taken it out of the living room. "Kurt, where'd you go!" shouted Logan.

"If I can't vatch vhat I vant to vatch, den nieser can you," Kurt's voice floated down from somewhere upstairs. At that point all Logan's resolve flew out the window.

"I'm gonna kill the bastard," he growled savagely as he got up and followed the sound of Kurt's voice. As he slowly stalked towards the bathroom door (the strongest place of Kurt's scent at the moment) Logan cursed, in seven different languages, the moron who had made a television that could only be changed with the remote. Maybe I should knock, thought Logan as he reached the door. The thought of walking in on Kurt while he was using the can didn't quite appeal to Logan, but he'd loose the element of surprise if he did. Taking a deep breath, Logan charged into the bathroom unannounced. There was a moment of shocked silence when the two parties took in the presence of the other and then Logan pounced. Kurt dropped what he'd been reading and teleported out of the room. Logan was ecstatic to find that Kurt had dropped the remote and taking no chanced Logan put it in the pocket of his jeans. As he walked out of the bathroom he happened to step on the magazine Kurt had been reading. With a frown he leaned down and picked it up, the latest edition of the Hustler magazine. I thought Kurt was supposed to be a priest, Logan thought as he pocketed the magazine and headed downstairs to the living room. He found Kurt having a sit in, in front of the television.

"Be the responsible adult," Logan mumbled to himself through gritted teeth. "Move yer damn ass," Logan growled.

"Nein," replied Kurt crossing his arms defiantly.

"I didn't want to resort to this, Elf. But ye left me no other choice," said Logan with a slight sigh. Kurt watched Logan with apprehension, looking for any sign of tense muscles. What Kurt didn't seem to realize was that Logan's muscles are always tense. Logan launched himself across the room in the blink of an eye and landed on Kurt, locking him in a death grip. Kurt struggled and cursed in German as Logan dragged him out to the garage. Logan dragged the blinded teleporter out to the very back of the garage and stuffed him into an old oil tank and slammed the lid shut. There was no worry of Kurt suffocating because there were little holes, bullet holes, throughout the tank, not that Logan was worried if Kurt died or not at the moment.

"Logan, let me out!" came a muffled cry from the tank.

Logan sighed as he sat down and turned on the television. It quickly turned to a growl when he realized the game was over. He sat there flipping through channels for half an hour before he found something interesting. He had been watching television for 10 or 15 minutes when he heard the bus pull in the driveway. With an annoyed growl Logan went out to the porch with a beer. He heard the teachers and students moving around in the mansion.

"Where's Kurt?" asked Storm coming out onto the porch. Logan just shrugged and with an annoyed sound Storm went back inside.

A few minutes later Jean came marching through the mansion. "Is this yours?" she demanded waving the Hustler magazine in front of Logan's nose.

"No," replied Logan with a slight smirk.

"It was on the couch," Jean practically growled.

"I found it upstairs in the bathroom and I was gonna toss it. I just forgot to," replied Logan coolly.

"Where's Kurt?" demanded Jean and Logan could feel her trying to read his mind. Logan grinned, time to mess with the telepath. He thought of an intriguing picture of Jean with her cloths off, spread eagle on the bed with Kurt on top of her. Jean blushed. "You don't know," said Jean clearing her throat and trying to hide her blush.

"Nope," replied Logan taking a swig of his beer.

"Let me know if you see him," said Jean.

"Yup," replied Logan shooting her another image of Scott plugging Kurt's ass. Amazingly all Jean did was giggle slightly and go back into the mansion.

"Logan, please go let Kurt out of the tank," came Professor Xavier's voice from the door way. With a sigh Logan finished his beer and headed for the garage.