Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even an action figure.

Summery: Just what I thought Wolverine's belt buckle might feel about his position in life. I'm not usually a Rogue/Logan shipper, but this story just seemed to need that extra touch, so I put it in. Don't worry, there isn't anythingbetween the two if you're a Rogan hater, just some interesting comments from the buckle. Enjoy, please R&R.


Reminiscing of a Belt Buckle

Not many people truly appreciate items like me. I mean, what would the world do without belt buckles? We are a neccessary and dedicated working force, intent on keeping the humans race's pants around their collective waists. How many people wearing a belt buckle get the proverbial jeans around the knees outlook?

Of course, some belt buckles are more equal than others, just as some people are better at wearing us. Not everyone has the physique to truly show us off properly. Luckily for me, my human is a pro at the business of showing me off.

Although I must say I deserve it. I have been a devoted protector and attention-getter of my human's ahem nether regions. Being around him like I am, I naturally picked up on his history; at least the part he knows. And while I completely understand the whole feeling of being metal plated, the moment I heard the news I realized how much my human trusted me. After all, they couldn't plate everything, could they?Some things are just not meant to be frozen in one position for eternity, and for my human flexibility in this part of his anatomy is very important.

So I take my job seriously. I watch for danger, and while I have slipped a few times, quite luckily he has that instant healing thing to back me up.

Last time I slipped it was for an excellent reason, I assure you. We were fighting, like we love to do, when I saw this little girl outside the cage. Next time we turned around however, I realized that she wasn't exactly a little girl, and was in fact a real nice buxom piece of work. At which point my human's antagonist chose to attack that particular section I was entrusted to protect. Livid, I turned back to work just in time to help my dude finish off our enemy. Like I said, no such problems since then.

Now, I need to still a few misconceptions here. We belt buckles are not its, we are hes or shes. Very protective and eye-catching hes or shes. Some of us are smaller and more modest, but others like myself took the big step.

We went Western.

Going Western is not an easy decision. It narrows our job openings, and usually increases on our wear and tear. Those humans who go Western do so devotedly, and normally wear us everyone they go. It also cuts down on the fancy stuff we get to do and see. No more big parties with suits and caviar when you go Western. Generally it means little cleaning, lots of scratches, and some pretty smelly jeans.

I love it. Especially since my human only went Western enought to wear me all the time, but not so Western that he goes out on horses and shit like that. I get the best of both worlds this way.

At least I did until the idiot decided to pick up that same girl that stole my attention at a critical moment. At which point we went through a series of very dangerous stuff. I can't really give any details, we belt buckles have privacy statements after all. Of course, I was completely dutiful and did a pretty fine job if I may say so myself, until that Magneto character showed up. Metal control? Scary idea for someone in our position.

Then he did it, my human committed the ultimate Western sin number one.

He replaced me.

Yes, he replaced me with this X thingy that doesn't have the guts to protect anything, and goes and gets himself mostly killed. And I'm willing to bet it was entirely this new buckle's fault. Never would have happened if I was there, guaranteed. Obviously my human realized this fact as well, because he came straight back and put me on as soon as he was recovered from what that other buckle let happen to him. I swear, if I ever get that buckle in my grasp it goes straight to Magneto.

Now, I have to admit that leaving those tags with that women (who now had white streaks in her hair - not sure where they came from) was a wrench. Not that I was fond of the tags - they were of little use, and kind of snooty to boot - but still, they were the only tie to my owner's past. Humans, I'll never get them.

Well, just have to make sure that my human gets this girl a belt buckle before we come back. She can't rely on those tags to protect her, that much I know for certain.

And who knows? I might even be able to convince him to get her someone I would be interested in. If we spend as much time around this girl as I think we might, I want someone I can relate to. Come to think of it, I saw this nice buckle back in Laughlin City that was quite an eyecatcher...