Disclaimer:
Not mine, just playin' with 'em. Suing me would be completely pointless as I have no money but many ferrets……….. : Telepathic communication. I'm sure you would guess that, but hey…….Feedback:
Oh, God, yes. Either on here or to andreaslaymaker@hotmail.com. But please be nice – this my VERY FIRST fic and I have no beta!!On with the show……..
Chapter 1
Hell In A Handbasket
Logan was in a bad mood. Not just a bit of a grump, but a hellish, black, furious sort of a temper that made him want to break something. Or someone. Here he was, back in his native Canada, about to head back up into the lonely wilderness that was the mountains, and was it by choice?
Fuck, no.
Angry and tired, he'd gone back to the mansion after two years of desperate searching that had led him precisely nowhere. Chuck had made him welcome, and bade him make himself at home; it was when he tried to do so that he got the first of several nasty shocks. He'd discovered Jean and Scott married; bad enough in itself, but when she told him that his flirting disgusted her now that she was a committed, married woman he'd had to go and sulk in the woods for a week.
Marie was all grown up into a stunning vision of loveliness and poise, and had control of her mutation beautifully. So what had happened when he'd crawled back to her for sympathy, and accidentally let on how she turned him on, and how he longed – and lusted – for them to be together?
She'd thrown him out of her room, with a fine display of bad language that he could only hope came from his own memories and not from what she'd picked up around the group. She thought of him as a big brother figure, apparently, and had been utterly freaked out when he had made his admission.
"Ah thought you were mah friend, Logan" she'd sobbed, surrounded by a rapidly accumulating group of friends giving him the hairy eyeball, "An' all you can do is act like a dirty old man. Ah'm shocked….."
Another week in the woods. Ororo had finally talked him into coming back inside, and even joining them on a few missions; it had helped relieve the tension somewhat. Marie had broken up with her boyfriend, and – joy of joys – turned to him for comfort. He had been very, very careful to keep it platonic; it seemed to be working, as he had caught her looking at him in a decidedly un-brotherly way a few times.
Give me a week, he'd thought to himself craftily, and then she's as mine as I am hers.
Four days after that, the professor had called him in and explained that he had a mission which could keep him away for months; in Canada, up in the mountains, trying to find a mutant up there that he had detected with cerebro but only faintly, sporadically… so would Logan go?
Before he knew what had happened, he'd agreed and was packing up the brand new SUV that Xavier had lent him. Marie was cool about it, but he was beginning to fret even before he'd left. There was a new mutant not long arrived – a Cajun with the most weird-ass eyes – who always spoke of himself in the third person and had made a beeline for the most attractive young woman in the place.
Marie, his Marie.
So what could he do? Move too fast on his girl and frighten her, or (even worse) hurt her? Refuse to go on the mission and bring himself down in everyone's eyes? Kill the young Cajun?
Tempting as that was, he knew it wasn't feasible. So he did the only thing he could: he got in the truck, and drove north.
The further he got, the worse he felt about the whole situation, the more vivid his imaginings grew, and the worse got his mood. By the time he had almost reached his target, he wasn't feeling very friendly at all.
Logan? asked a quiet voice in the space behind his eyes.
"FFFFF – Shit!" Logan shouted, as he was torn away from his bad black meanderings by the gentle voice of the professor. The SUV veered across the road and had to be wrestled back to something approaching good behaviour by main force, and a good deal of blistering swearing.
"What?" he roared.
Shouting at me won't help
Logan scowled. Screw you, wheels, he thought sullenly.
Better. There was a hint of an indulgent smile in the soft mental voice. I just contacted you to inform you that you have arrived in the area we discussed. There is a small bar some mile or so ahead where you can leave the vehicle
So I can go freeze my ass off in the mountains, right?
You are the only one of us who can accomplish this mission, and you know it
You should've sent scooter. Then we'd all be free of him, right? So I can make a move on his –
Behave yourself
"Well, fuck" smiled Logan mildly. He'd managed to irritate the professor at last. Score one to the Canuck.
Contact us as soon as you know something
"Yeah. One more thing, though, Chuck?"
Yes?
"Wouldja please knock first next time?"
Mental feel of an exasperated exhalation, making the feral man grin.
I will try. Good luck, Logan
"Yeah, yeah…." He muttered, chewing a little harder on his cigar and swinging in to the car park of the small, beat up establishment that he'd been looking for. Time for a drink, then off up into the mountains.
To freeze his ass off.
