One blasted image teasing my mind's eye... that's all it took for me to go 'well crap', and lo and behold, third X-men fic. Sigh. Hope everyone enjoys.
Logan's teeth clicked together as he slammed into something hard, an audible crack briefly overshadowing all other noise in his ears, although he wasn't entirely sure if the sound was from him or the metal table he'd crashed into. The sharp pain briefly washed his vision with red before the surge of emotion was tamped down. Mystique was the wrong opponent for his rage; she was too precise, too clever by far to be bested by sheer brutality. Not to mention one damned tough woman. She'd openly laughed at his surprised expression when they came face to face, as he'd never expected to see her again after skewering her on Liberty Island. Logan could hear the sounds of battle behind him, drawing his focus back to the current fight, but had to leave Storm and Cyclops to their own devices. He had enough trouble keeping Mystique busy without having to worry about them and their skirmish with Sabretooth and Magneto. The feral countered a vicious kick while snarling mentally at the memory of seeing the shaggy mutant. There was a face he'd hoped to never see again. After what the savage male had tried to do, both to himself and Marie, Logan could safely say that there was no love lost between them. At least now they knew who had gotten Magneto out of the prison that had been tailor-made for him; the blue shapeshifter was highly skilled in the covert ops department, so it was no real surprise. Still, it would be aggravating as hell to have him coming up with mutant supremacy plans again. Oof! Got a roundhouse to the ribs there, gotta pay more attention to the limber lady. She smirked at him, her expression tinged with something more than just humor. There was a gleam of attraction in her eyes and the scent of it in the air. Oh fu-… Just… no. Their fight was actually turning her on. She was a weird one, all right. Logan growled his dismissal of whatever the hell she was trying to do. Maybe distraction, maybe not, but either way it wasn't going to happen. Ever. His claws flashed through the air, putting her briefly on the defensive as she dodged the razor-sharp edges. No way to block those, huh? His snarling grin made her glare in return. Now this was more like it. A loud roar and the sizzle of lightning sounded behind him as Sabretooth went flying through the air and landed in a heap on the floor of the warehouse they were fighting in. Heh. Sure sounded like Ororo had her fill of the blonde feral, too. Mystique looked at something behind him suddenly, launching a vicious series of attacks that had him working desperately to keep his footing in the debris they'd scattered during the fight and driving him back a good dozen feet.
"Erik!" Her yell made hazel eyes widen. What the…? Then there was the damned pull at his bones as an irresistible force sent him in his own flight pattern partway across the open space to crash into Scott.
'Damn it! Sorry Cyke, you okay?" Scott looked winded, barely struggling to his feet as Logan gave him a hand up. The shapeshifter sure played dirty, but hell, he'd have pulled the same trick in her place. Still, it made a growl rumble through him. "Storm, we need some cover darlin'!" he called, knowing she could hear him in the echoing space inside the large building. It was felt before it was seen, the growing dampness against his skin as tendrils of fog rose around them, blanketing the warehouse interior. Ororo always did take pride in her work. Wolverine allowed a slight grin before turning his attention back to the team's leader. "Cover Storm's back while I look for the blueprints."
"Logan, we have to stick…! Together…" Scott was exasperated, pounding a fist into his open palm as the hazel-eyed feral disappeared silently into the fog. Of course he would go off on his own. Still, it was a sound plan for being spur of the moment. Splitting up while distracting the opposing force would give them the upper hand for a while, and if you needed something found, Wolverine was a safe bet. Cyclops headed in the direction of a flash of lightning to give Storm backup, putting his trust in their feral teammate to hold up his end.
x_X_x
Logan prowled quietly through the fog toward the other end of the warehouse, sharp eyes able to make out stairs leading up to an office that barely rose above the layer of white curling around him. Well, if he were something that could be filed, that's where he'd be. Better take advantage of the distraction before they were found out. In moments he was up on the second level and inside the door, its lock giving easily to a sharp claw. He'd feel bad about vandalizing the property later, but only after they'd kept Magneto from getting what he wanted. Logan made straight for the large metal filing cabinet at the other end of the room and opened drawers until he found the category he needed, rifling the edges of folders. Aha… Gotcha. A single manila folder was pulled up and opened, fingers extracting the folded piece of paper he was after. The feral wasn't sure exactly why Magneto wanted these lab blueprints, but hell, if the old guy wanted to get just a stick of gum, he'd do his best to prevent it. In his limited experience, nothing Magneto wanted could ever turn out well. The crisp, translucent material was folded a couple more times and stuffed down into the front of his uniform before he quickly shut the drawer. Now, to get back to the others. But as he readied to turn, he found it impossible to move. Oh damn… Footsteps were heard outside on the metal stairs, slowly and deliberately moving closer.
"Did you really think I couldn't feel the metal in your body, Wolverine?" came a sneering voice from behind, drifting through the open door. "It was child's play, I assure you." Logan was lifted a few inches off the ground and rotated slowly to face Magneto, who was giving him that superior look the older man seemed to have perfected. Wolverine's body was flung open, just like he'd been positioned on the damn train when Erik had been after Rogue. "Where are the building plans?" If Logan could have shrugged, he would have. As it was, he just fixed the other with a look of boredom.
"Don't know, haven't found 'em yet. But good luck." He grinned slightly, looking far too cocky in his current situation to suit the silver-haired mutant holding him magnetically captive.
"They're looking to make a cure, Wolverine, a way to rid the world of the mutant gene. And I can assure you the military would find uses for it that would do none of us any good." Logan couldn't deny that, especially when it came to the more unscrupulous military organizations like the one Stryker had headed. But that wasn't the point.
"Still doesn't justify whatever devious thing I'm sure you're planning. That'll only get people turned against mutants even more. Destruction and death kind of do that," came his wry response. Magneto's eyes were cold.
"You're one to talk," he sniped, taking a jab at the feral's own penchant for causing those same two things in droves. Logan didn't take the bait, keeping himself calm.
"And that's why I'm not in charge, Buckethead." Magneto glared at the ridiculous name, making Logan chuckle. The mirth was cut off though as he felt his bones shifting, grinding against each other and pulling. That's what he got for trading barbs with a man who was a literal magnetic force to be reckoned with. Sweat broke out on Logan's brow as he clamped his mouth shut over the groans that wanted to burst out. A pained chuff of air did make its way free through his nose when his right shoulder was suddenly yanked from its socket, eyes closing against the triumphant look on Magneto's face. Had to stall him for a bit, just had to keep the guy busy and out of the others' way so they could neutralize Mystique and Sabretooth.
"Shall I dislocate all of your limbs, Wolverine?" The tone was conversational, casual, which made it all the more chilling. Magneto had a talent for viciousness that went beyond survival or self-defense and dwelt more in the psychopathic realm. He might have even temporarily forgotten about the blueprints in question, more focused on his enjoyment of torturing the mutant at his nonexistent mercy. Logan panted sharply for air, adamantium forced out from between knuckles, right forearm angling toward his own body so the sharp tip of an outermost claw was directly in front of his left eye. The pain from having the dislocated joint move around was excruciating, the threat of having an empty eye socket all too real, but Wolverine ignored all of that. Just a little more time, if the scent he was catching could get up those stairs quietly enough, and then it would stop.
"I guess we'll both do what we've gotta do," he replied tersely, gaze holding Magneto's without flinching even as the gleaming metal crept closer to his vulnerable eyeball. It wasn't all bluff; he'd accept the pain if he had to, for the mission or his team. But he was secretly glad it wouldn't come to that this time as a red flash of energy met with Magneto's back and sent him barreling forward to land ungracefully on the floor. The other mutant's loss of consciousness and subsequent loss of focus meant Logan was left to drop several inches back to the industrial tile beneath his feet, staggering slightly and hissing as the jolt went through his right shoulder. Scott caught the reaction, concern evident as he spoke.
"Are you all right?" Logan nodded silently. He'd have to look around the lower level to find a good place to whack the joint back into alignment, since there was nothing suitable in the office.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." Scott took him at his word, apparently, because he didn't question further. After all, it wasn't really openly obvious that one arm was dangling uselessly at his side.
"Did you find them?" In answer, Logan lightly slapped his chest with his left hand, hearing the blueprints crinkle softly under leather. Cyclops grinned broadly.
"Good work, Logan." He companionably clapped the taller mutant on the arm. The right arm. Logan's face went pinched and pale in less than a second, but he didn't make a sound.
"Let's just get out of here…" The feral gestured for the other to lead the way, hoping Scott wouldn't notice the strained tone of his voice, and they headed down the stairs. The fog was receding rapidly, showing the prone forms of Mystique and Sabretooth flat out on the cold concrete, and the sight warmed his heart greatly. A grin spread across his lips in spite of his aching shoulder. Speaking of… Logan sighted a support column halfway to their exit. Well, that would certainly do it. He lagged behind the other two, veering slightly toward the sturdy concrete and aiming… just… right! With one sharp forward movement, he slammed his upper arm into the column, forcing the joint back into the socket with a sickening sort of crunch. The choked gasp that resulted was still audible even as he tried to stifle it, and his teammates whirled around defensively before gaping at him. He didn't have the energy just then to do anything but lean against the unyielding surface and breathe until the haze of pain ebbed. Logan straightened and started walking again, passing Scott and Ororo with a look that didn't encourage questions. "I'm fine," he muttered gruffly as they followed, shaking their heads with mixed exasperation and amazement.
x_X_x
Hours later, Magneto and his group had returned to their underground base of operations, seething from the loss they'd suffered. Their leader's pride had taken the largest hit, having been blocked right in the middle of his plans by a mutant he considered far beneath him in every way. Mystique was watching him silently as he sat behind a large metal desk, fingers drumming very occasionally on the cold surface.
"My dear, I will require your services," he said finally, meeting her yellow eyes with a rigid expression. "I will not allow that animal to keep getting in my way. He needs to be taught a lesson about interfering." The devilishly pleased grin that appeared on her face was answered by his own smug smirk.