Cat Lover

I don't own the X-Men, Cyclops, Storm or any of the others.

Scott noticed that the cat had been back again. Which meant someone was enticing it past the dangers of optic blasts into the mansion grounds. Feeding it probably. Snarling, he tried to decide who would feed one of the strays out in the woods. First, though, he'd ask Jean.

"No Scott, I don't know whose feeding the cat. And it's not me before you ask!"

"I never said it was!"

"You thought it!"

And rather than argue with a telepath who also happened to be his wife, Scott marched off to confront the next person on his list of suspects. Jubilee had just shaken her head then told him to get out of her room otherwise she'd paff him into next week. Kitty had pointed at Lockheed and told Scott that cats were afraid of dragons. And Lockheed followed Kitty everywhere.

Rogue had just glared at him. Storm had shaken her head. Why would she feed a stray cat in the grounds, when she could fly out to feed them in their home territory? Piotr had explained he preferred dogs. Warren had asked Scott if he remembered the problems they had with cats trying to eat him. Bobby had just looked shocked.

"There are cats out in the woods?"

Hank had gone into a long-winded explanation of why he couldn't have fed the cat which boiled down to he'd been locked in his lab for the last week, in conference with Richards, Pym and Stark. Kurt had shrugged and said he was allergic to cats. Finally, Scott had gone to the Professor.

"Do you know whose feeding the cat?"

The Professor had frowned.

"The cat? What cat?"

So Scott had to explain about the cat that kept coming into the mansion grounds and digging up flower beds and widdling everywhere and making a mess. Professor X had just shrugged.

"I hadn't heard we were having cat troubles."

So that was why Scott was sitting in an uncomfortable little hide, in the middle of the night, waiting to see who was lying and had been feeding the cat. The cat sauntered out of the woods onto the lawn and Scott was tempted to scare it away with a well placed optic blast but decided he was going to find out who was feeding the cat first. He smiled as the dark figure stepped out onto the lawn, bowl in hand. He had him! Creeping over, Scott got ready to tackle the evil cat feeder. Halfway across the lawn he suddenly realised who the resident cat-lover was.

Crouching down, stroking that dratted cat as it ate, was the surly, grumpy, antisocial Logan!