Disclaimer: Anyone claiming that I claim to own what Fox claims to own will be confused by my disclaimer.
Hey people! How've ya been? You hate me? Oh. Anyway, passing over my low self-esteem, let's begin another random-ass AU story! Who else is pumped? ... What? ... You think I should go boil my head? ... Okay, let me get the story started first. STORY MODE ACTIVATE. Now I'll go boil my head.
I walk confidently into LeBeau's office, sure that I can handle whatever insane mission he sends me on this time. After spending 10 years in the FBI, you are no longer surprised even when a completely bizarre mission gets thrown your way. What he was about to say, though, would change my life forever.
"Hello, Logan." Remy said, staring at me over steepled fingers as I faced him over his desk. "How are you, old friend?"
"Not bad, Remy. What kind of government madness do you have for me today?" I respond, staring back into his black-colored eyes. Some of the lesser secretaries had quit when they claimed 'his eyes change from black to red when angry' and nobody believed them.
"Well, Logan, this may come as a surprise-"
I snorted. "Nothing surprises me anymore, Remy."
He continued as if I had not just interrupted him. "-But I'm assigning you a partner for this case." He took a deep breath and waited.
Approximately five seconds later, I managed to pull my gaping mouth shut. "What? Why? I always work alone!" I managed to say without trying to choke him to death.
He gives me a second and says, "This is not up for discussion, Logan. You will either take her or you will not investigate this case, and it is one of the most promising I have ever seen."
"Her?" I asked. "I don't want some weak woman getting in the way of my case!" I had just enough time to finish this sentence when I felt an arm slide across my throat from behind.
I struggled, of course, but the arm was like an iron bar across my windpipe, denying me the air I needed to survive. Black mist was creeping around my vision, and I saw fireworks. The last thought I had before I blacked out was, 'Are those ... breasts behind my ... head?'
The first thing I did when I woke up was reach inside my jacket and pull out my pistol. Then I looked up and saw Remy twitching silently, tears running down his face.
"What's wrong?" I asked him. "Did they stab you?" I leaped up in concern as a hoarse laugh escaped his throat. He was laughing. In hysterics, in fact. Crying as he laughed.
"I take it that this weakling is going to be my partner?" A soft feminine voice questioned from behind me. I turned around and saw the largest pair of breasts I had ever seen. Then I looked up to the rack's owner. She had wonderful blue eyes, soft white hair, and mocha colored skin. Deciding I liked the breasts better, I looked down - right as she slapped me. "I mean, this perverted weakling is going to be my partner?" she asked.
Remy could only nod through his hysterical tears.
"Fuck you." I said to the woman. "Is this... pair of tits gonna be my partner?" I turned back to Remy. Big mistake. I felt the woman's arm slide across my throat again for the second time in ten minutes.
A/N: I would just like to say that I am not sexist at all, and I respect women as the stronger sex. They actually have been proven to live around five years longer than men. And judging from how bad the woman kicked Logan's ass, I'd say that he is weaker.