AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, I've been wanting to do this for a while. To write short little tidbits about life in the X-Universe: And not JUST X-Men. Although, I am certain a lot of the new fanfictioners will be more familiar with the X-Movie verse. I didn't like it so much, but I did, somehow, find the pairing of Bobby and Rogue adorable. Well, anyways, enough of my mindless drive!! Here is the first installment. Bobby and Logan being totally OOC. Thought it was cute. I came up with it at like, 4 a.m., so spare me. Tell me if you think I need to pull it!
Frozen Happiness
It
was one of those teenage hunger pangs, the kind where you stayed up
until after midnight and your body is screaming at you to feed it.
So, Bobby had headed down to the kitchen, gotten out the ice-cream,
and found himself a nice, big spoon. Not a moment after he'd sat
down, taking that first, sweet bite of frozen-happiness from the
carton, a familiar figure--dinner-plate belt buckle and all--came
stalking into the kitchen.
It was then that all of the previous
frozen-happiness's happiness ran off into the darkest reaches of
Bobby Drake's teenage mind, and he dropped the spoon. He wanted to
tell Logan to get the heck out of the kitchen, but that would require
a pretty big death wish. He figured the best way to get to the bottom
of this, to enjoy his frozen-happiness in silence, was to simply
inquire . . .
"Can't sleep"
"Not tired."
Logan said as he opened the refrigerator door. As usual, no beer was
present, so he searched in the bottom most reaches of the fridge and
dug up a Coke. He popped the top and turned to Bobby, leaning against
the refrigerator.
"Why are you up?" Logan looked
suspicious and he examined the ice-cream box. "Hungry?" He
said it as if he were an interrogator asking something like 'where
were you on the night of July 4th? Lighting fireworks? I THINK
NOT!'." Yeah, I got up to get something to eat," Bobby
poked the frozen-happiness with his spoon, a promise of succeeding in
ridding the kitchen of the wolverine. Logan looked at him curiously,
took a sip of soda, made a face, and sat it back down on the
counter.
"So . . . how're you and Rogue"
"Pretty
good," Bobby answered casually. "How about you"
"Ahh
. . ." Logan sighed and took another drink, "I guess I'm
okay"
"Cool . . ." Drake poke the frozen-happiness
again, declaring victory would be his. Then it happened. Bobby looked
back up, and there, staring him down, were two cool, steely eyes.
Those eyes were giving him . . . the Squint.
And
not just any squint, but LOGAN'S squint; the kind that said
'somethin' ain't right and I think it's you'. Bobby dropped the
spoon, ceasing his poking. Logan's eyes had him paralyzed.
"What
exactly do you WANT from her?" Logan growled, suddenly. "I
was a teenage boy once! I know what all of you want! You'd better
show her some respect or . . ." one of his claws extended, "or
I'll have to get personal"
Bobby bit his lip and felt himself
sinking down into his chair. It was true, there were times when all
he could think about were Rogue perfectly . . . well, you get the
picture. But, how did Logan know that? It was hard to believe that
someone as surly and basically emotionally stagnant as Logan could
have possibly been a teenager. Suddenly, Bobby's train of thought was
broken by the laughter resonating from Logan's general direction. The
older man was laughing, not just a snicker, but actually laughing.
He'd abandoned his soda on the counter and was laughing, crouched
over bit.
Bobby sat up, "Mr. Logan"
"That was
just too good to pass up!" Logan regained control, picking up
his soda.
"You mean . . . you weren't serious?" Bobby
asked, his drive for the frozen happiness once more renewed, he took
up the spoon. Logan took a drink, and looked at him with an eyebrow
raised.
"About what"
"That hole 'knowing what
all of you want' thing"
"Oh that," Logan crumpled
his can and chucked it in the trash. "No, I was only kidding
about the being a teen-ager thing; I don't remember it. But, "he
pointed at Bobby, "If you don't show her some respect, I WILL
hafta get personal"
Logan--dinner-plate belt buckle and
all--went stalking out of the kitchen.
Taking that second,
not-as-sweet-but-still-pretty-good bite of frozen-happiness from the
carton, Bobby declared that 'Victory was his!'.
Fin
