A/N: Disclaimer! I do not own any of these characters; they remain the sole property of Marvel Comics. No one should sue me because...seriously...copyright infringement should be better-written; otherwise, I don't see how it could infringe. :D Lawl.
Once upon a time--and recall, all good stories begin thus--Remy LeBeau was rising from his bed, a bit hazy from the drinks of the night before. A thud, rather than an announcement chime, resounded by his door.
With a diffident shrug, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before hitting the button to open the door.
Standing outside was...Logan? Yes, his teammate, codenamed Wolverine, stood outside, leaning casually on the doorframe, grinning, toothpick firmly between sharp white teeth.
"To what do I owe dis pleasure, Monsieur? Did we have a date, and I forgot?" Wolverine grunted, and Remy, codename Gambit, grinned. "Well, den, I request a stay to shower before we go out."
Wolverine shook his head. "You know where to find me, Cajun."
Tossing the toothpick good-naturedly (if such is part of Wolverine's nature) at his teammate, he strolled away down the hallway.
Fifteen minutes later, a trenchcoated Remy entered the garage of the first sub-basement in the X-Men mansion--rather, Xavier's School For Gifted Youth. The short, stocky Canadian was standing next to a perfectly-shined Harley-Davidson classic 1955 cycle.
"You're not gonna touch Scott's bike? Man, I hope dis job gives you better health insurance since you's a veteran...cuz if I was to touch dat bike, I'd be eating my own bow backward." Logan grinned evilly, and motioned the Cajun to climb aboard behind him as he mounted the sweet ride. "Hang on, honey, this ride's gonna be rough," were the last words out of the bared fangs as Logan gunned it and roared forward, barely allowing the door to open before they soared through it.
After a harrowingly-fast fifteen-minute drive, the two men found themselves deep in the woods, a wooded clearing at the end of the trail. Logan slowed the bike and banked to a stop. In the center of the clearing, looking completely asinine, sat a wrought-iron table and two chairs.
On the table sat a plate of crumpets (covered with plastic wrap to keep the insects off), and a tea setting for two.
"Mon amie, you are a good person and all, but I don't t'ink..."
"Relax, bub. This ain't what you think."
"Ok, den...uh, Logan? What de Sam Hell is dis, den?" His teammate blushed slightly. "Well...I wanted to...see...y'know...Ororo..."
"Oh, I get it! You've a crush on de white witch, and you want to take 'er to Starbucks, but you are too shy!" Surprised at his friend's insight, Wolverine could only nod.
"Yeah--how did you know? I don't know nothin' about pourin' or servin' or...pullin'...out chairs..."
"Mon amie, dese t'ings I had to learn 'bout before I could ask out Rogue...and den she tole me she don't drink Starbucks coffee because it's overpriced and too sweet anyway. But dat's neither here nor dere."
The next half-hour passed in a nearly-embarrassing scenario of Wolverine and Gambit having a tea party. If Stan Lee could see it, he would probably kill the author of said scenario in a horrible and seriously violent murder.
Nearing the end of the etiquette lesson, Gambit gambled, "Maybe we go to Starbucks in town and order some coffee to practice, mon amie?"
His friend shook his head negatively. "I ain't fruity, bub. I mean, you ain't bad-lookin'--for a guy--but you certainly ain't my type. But thanks, I mean, for th' lesson an' all."
Gambit laughed. "Well, den, Logan, you jus' go for it. Ask out Ororo. She can't say no to a fine gen'l'man like yoursel', non?"
Back at the mansion a while later, Logan dusted off his best flannel and gave Jubilee a ten to iron his favorite too-tight '80'sfied jeans.
"What're you gettin' all dressed up for, Logz?" she asked, pausing to track him with her eyes rather more than she ironed. (To avoid any lawsuits, since Jubilee is only fifteen, this disclaimer is to maintain that HE WAS WEARING A BATHROBE at all times while pantsless.)
"Kid, it's none o' yer business. Jest keep ironin'...if you want that tenner." Looking mildly hurt, Jubilee went back to dutifully shoving the iron over the denim, but she pouted while she did so.
He relented a little, as she was prone to sulking and he didn't fancy the idea of coming back to her half-hearted attention-whoring whining.
"I'm gonna ask Ororo to get coffee with me." Jubilee stopped ironing abruptly, looked up and exclaimed, "Ohmigod, you're finally goin' for it?!"
"Whatta ya mean, 'finally'? How long ya think I've been plannin' this?!"
Jubilee giggled, and Wolverine remembered how glad he was that no children had ever resulted from his one-night stands. "Well, it's kinda obvious you like her. I mean, you speak in full sentences to her ALL the TIME! And you hold doors for her...and you asked her once on the Blackbird if she was buckled in. I mean, it was cute. Redundant, since she was piloting, but cute."
Logan merely shook his head and put out an impatient hand, into which Jubilee delivered the now mostly-flat and, in some spaces, burnt, jeans.
Examining them to ensure the burns would be near the ankles, and less noticeable, he waited till his young fan had turned her back in a rare show of respect and then yanked on his jeans over a pair of tighty-whities adorned, on the back, with a red maple leaf logo.
"'K, kid, how do I look?" He turned around for her approval, and she stood, looking like one of those fairies from "Queer Eye", hand under chin.
"Well, you look...er...exactly the same as you always do, only a little more cleanshaven, and uhm, your shirt's cleaner. Oh, and your JEANS are EXTREMELY WELL-PRESSED. Y'know." Grudgingly, he handed her a ten-dollar bill and then pulled on his biker boots.
"You mention a word of this to anyone and I'll lock you in your room and slice the wires to the breaker panel outside your door."
"Yeah, yeah," she sighed, and watched him walk out. Just as the Starship Enterpriselike doors hissed shut behind him, she shouted, "Well GOOD FRIKKIN' LUCK then!" Though she couldn't see it, he smiled a little.
So did she.
Outside Ororo's door, Logan paused. He huffed on the inside of his wrist. His breath smelled of tobacco and Listerine Breath Strips. Good enough, he thought, and pressed the "chime".
"Coming," came her voice through the intercom, and he smiled in anticipation.
"Logan!" she ejaculated, seeing him outside, looking slightly nervous.
"This is a surprise. Uhm..." Behind Storm's back, he saw Rogue, their other teammate, hastily buttoning a blouse. "We were just...getting ready to go shopping."
He tried to remember why his chin was cold, then he realized his jaw was getting perilously close to the floor, and closed his mouth.
"Well, I didn't mean to--if this is a bad time, I can--" Wolverine rarely stuttered, but this time was a notable and understandable exception!
"I just..." His voice almost broke, but he remembered that he'd fought Sabretooth in the mountains of Western Canada in four feet of snow without flinching, so he could certainly batten the balls necessary to ask a woman out for some coffee! "Well, Ororo, I wanted to know if you'd like to join me for some coffee!" He looked up, expecting to see her either laughing or about to say no, but instead, his blue eyes met hers, and she grinned. "Of course, Logan. Rogue and I would love to join--" He couldn't believe it, but he actually cut her off then. "No, uh, 'Roro, just you." He addressed Rogue: "Nothing against you, y'understand, but...this is...well..."
"A date, sugah?" she asked, grinning knowingly. "Well, we was all fahred up fo' a day o' girly shoppin', but...I s'pose I could jus'...release my good friend Ororo to you for th' day." Wolverine couldn't make heads nor tails of the situation. Ororo was grinning as well, by then, and nodded.
"Surely, you don't want to just...let me get away, Rogue?" The auburn-haired pecan princess laughed. "Nah, 'Roro, it's okay. I have ta do some laundry anyways." With that, Rogue brushed past Logan and left, glancing over her shoulder. "Have fun, you two!"
Confused, Logan scratched his head, as Ororo shoved him out of the doorway, not unkindly. "I will need to dress, then, and get ready." She smiled patronizingly and said, "I'll meet you outside in half an hour." Not knowing what else to do, Logan resignedly shrugged as the door shut, and headed out to wait in the foyer.
One hour later
Holding the door of the cab for her, Logan helped Ororo out onto the sidewalk outside the Starbucks in Manhattan. Since Starbucks in Manhattan are as thick as hobbits in Bag-End Underhill, they could well have walked from the subway--it was only two blocks--but Logan felt it was better to go to a standalone, rather than the ones inside Barnes & Noble.
Once inside, the two ordered their coffees--well, a vanilla chai latte for Storm and a black, plain, big-as-possible coffee for Logan.
"What's with that...vented...granite...those stupid sizes? Whatever happened to small-medium-large? Man..." Ororo laughed, not at him necessarily, but at his discontent with the words on the faux chalkboard.
"It's corporate America's attempt at making self-absorbed preppies seem cultured while ordering their overpriced caffeine fix.
"I mean, it's not even really Italian," she added. Logan nodded. Sensing that she was a little beyond him, she smiled softly. "So you're probably wondering what Rogue was doing in my room with an unbuttoned blouse, hmm? Well, you see, she and I have a very special friendship."
Logan caught his breath. Was she--were they--no! They couldn't be, Gambit had just been telling him about going out with Rogue earlier! How was this possible?
"We're very close...so close...we share. You know how women sometimes just...can't be happy with what they have? And they start to get curious. They want to...go into each other's closets. You see...Rogue and I..."
His eyes stung. His breath caught in his throat. He gasped—
"We've been sharing clothing."
He blinked.
"What?" She was speaking some sort of code. She had to be. Wolverine had never been so confused in all his life.
"She really liked the silver skirt I wore last week, but she couldn't find it at the same boutique--apparently they are out of stock--so she borrowed mine. She was just trying on one of my blouses when you came by. Why, what did you--Oh!!" Realizing his misconception, she laughed. "You thought we were...oh, no, Logan! No, silly, we aren't. My, you must have been...poor thing. Here, how about I buy you some real coffee? There is a 7-Eleven right by the mansion. And then we can catch a movie. All right?" she asked, attempting to soothe him.
Giving up while still nearly ahead, Logan nodded dumbly. "Yeh. All right." With a smile, she stood up, took his hand and led him out. He almost didn't notice Rogue and Gambit heading down the street towards them.
"Rogue!" Ororo waved her down. She was holding hands with Gambit and they looked every bit the happy couple. "What are you two doing here? I thought you were doing laundry--you owe me a skirt, I believe? Clean?" Rogue laughed at that.
"Nah, sugah, Remy tole me all 'bout Logan's bid fo' y'all attention, and Ah was worried he got the wrong idea, so since you left your cell phone at the mansion--and Logan refuses t' carry one--we came down looking fo' you. Well, Ah came. Remy followed."
Gambit, meantime, was trying to hide behind his girlfriend, looking sheepish. "I din' exactly tell her, mon amie. I more...suggested?...er...mea culpa?" Logan slugged him hard in the shoulder.
"You know, I could kill you, bub. But...since your girl happens to be friendly with my girl...I'll let it go. THIS time. Next time...all bets...are off."
"Well, we were just heading back to Westchester to get some cheap, 7-Eleven coffee and catch a movie. Would you two like to join us?" Ororo suggested
Forty minutes later, back at the mansion
"Got the tickets off Fandango, sugah. We're all ready. We're catching that new movie, The Incredible Hunk. It's about this guy who turns into a big green monster when he gets angry. Good thing Dr. Banner's never seen it, hmm? Hehe." Gambit gave her a quick peck on the lips. "How..." Logan began to ask. "Oh, it's simple," Rogue replied. "I just have to wear a lot of Chapstick."
He shook his head. Gambit headed towards the garage, jangling the keys to the Professor's baby-blue '82 Coupe De Ville. "Well, are ye comin', Logan?" he asked.
"We'll be there, just give us a sec," Wolverine replied.
As soon as the others were out of earshot, Logan turned to Ororo. "I wanted to...uh..." She smiled, ready to patronize him again, but just then he realized that he'd been a pussy all day, and grew a pair. "I'm glad you said yes when I asked you out. I have a big crush on you! So...I think you should be my girlfriend. I mean, it's only fair." Before she could answer, he added, "Oh! And this." With one sweeping motion, more classy than he ever though possible for him, Logan swept the white-haired demigoddess into his arms and kissed her, long and deeply. In true Hollywood fashion, the kiss was seen from all angles, in a full-body shot, close-ups of the lips of both parties gracing Logan's mental screen.
Then he released her, still reeling from the touch of his lips, a little rough, on hers, and stalked towards the garage. As she took a double-step to catch up to him, she slipped her hand into his. The other couple had just pulled up the Cadillac in front of the mansion, and Logan and Ororo got in. The double-daters drove off into the sunset...Jubilee, laughing, watched from a window. Damn, that was a lot of footwork, for her to warn all but Wolverine of each other's intentions. And to set up the Rogue-Storm scene for Logan's entrance, that was a pain, too. But overall, she'd done a good job. Tomorrow, maybe, she'd head to the arcade. She felt she owed herself some hardcore gaming. Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles, maybe. After all, she was just a kid.
THE END!!
A/N: This is really "badfic" but I wrote it as a joke. Hope you giggled at least a little. :) Thanks for reading!