I'm back to the normal length with this chapter. Not a lot happens but Raven34link who wanted something to happen to Scott and Jean - One down!
Also zandra who wanted me to include Hugh Jackman's favourite word 'Panache.' I included it and I'm no longer partying to the dance of the shame beat.
The Hard way:
Rejoicing
Logan scratched the stubble on his chin and glared at the contents of the fridge. Was he a beer down? Shoving the veggies roughly out the way, he counted the row of beer bottles and frowned. He'd bought a six pack, drunk one today which meant he should have had five left.
There were only four there. Somebody was in deep shit.
He counted them yet again and growled. Math weren't one of his strong points but he never miscounted his beers. There was a thief here and he was going to make them pay.
Sniffing, he cocked his head and sighed. There were too many scents in here and there was no way to know for sure who the damn thieving, soon-to-be dead son of a bitch was.
He didn't think Charles would like him waking up each student to sniff their breath and instantly gutting them on the spot if they reeked of his beer.
The whiff of perfume caught his attention and he rounded on Storm as she walked into the kitchen.
"You had one of my beers?" he asked her.
"And good evening to you too, Logan," she replied with a raised eyebrow, shutting the garage door and placing her car keys in her handbag. "I don't like your foul beer."
"My beer ain't foul."
"It is and you know I only drink the odd glass of wine," She sat at the table, placing her bag down beside her and kicked her stilettos off. "You're growling."
Logan hadn't realised he'd been growling and snatched a bottle out of the fridge. If Storm weren't the one who took it then maybe it was Hank. He couldn't see Charles stealing his booze to chug down. The man liked his expensive brandy and he only drank during the holiday season.
"What about Hank?"
"He's a fan of red wine. Only you drink that foul stuff."
This time Logan was well aware of the growl erupting from his lips. "Not any more."
"What do you mean?" Storm questioned him.
Logan stared at her.
"You can't think one of the students would take your alcohol!" she spluttered in shock. "Are you sure you haven't misplaced it?"
He snorted. "I don't misplace my beer. Neither did I forget I'd drunk an extra bottle," he added when he noticed the Weather Witch was about to interrupt him.
Storm sighed and appeared deep in thought for a few moments leaving Logan ample time to imagine what he'd do when he got hold of his beer thief. A month of back breaking Danger Room sessions, shredding them with his claws, kicking the crap out of their thieving ass - It all sounded good to him.
"If one of the students has borrowed one of your beers -" She ignored Logan's growl at the word 'borrowed' and carried on. "Then we'll deal with this together. I don't want you frightening the life out of the poor child whoever they may be."
"Poor child?" he grumbled. "What about my poor beer? Whoever took it has shit for brains!"
Ororo made a noise of disapproval at his use of language but Logan didn't care. He was now getting himself worked up at the thought of somebody helping themselves to one of his Goddamn beers. Nobody stole from him. Nobody.
"Logan, will you please calm down? This won't get us anywhere."
He stopped pacing and leant against the garage door, folding his arms. There was no way in hell he was going to calm down. He had a strong kinship with all his beers right until he'd drunk the very last drop from the bottle.
"It's my beer, Storm."
She laughed and he frowned at her.
"You're sulking like a child whose had his favourite toy taken away."
Logan didn't dignify that with an answer, only continued to frown at the woman until she got the message and quit with the teasing and laughter. He didn't find this funny in the slightest.
Storm finally stopped laughing and began to massage her left foot. "My sister and Evan are fine. Thank you for asking, Logan," she announced, smiling at him. "Although I still haven't been able to convince her to allow Evan to join us here at the mansion."
He grunted in reply and unsheathed a claw, removing the cap from his bottle.
"And how was your day? I hear Sabretooth was causing trouble again."
He glanced up, sheathing his claw and taking a much needed taste of beer. "Could have been better. The girl hates me when she's awake, me and Sabretooth are gonna fight it out pretty soon and someone stole by damn beer."
"Charles told me what happened. You should have explained everything to Anna instead of letting her walk into that trap. I can't think what the girl must have been feeling. She must be so hurt!" she scolded him and he grumbled under his breath.
"Damn it, Storm. I was getting around to telling her and how the hell do you think I felt when she took off?" Logan demanded with a growl. "Now Sabretooth's gone and fucked things up!"
Storm arched an eyebrow and gazed at him in interest. "You were scared to tell her, Logan. And punishing her for your mistakes will not have helped your relationship with your daughter."
"Hey, she'd been asking for a spanking since she got here. That has nothing to do with what I should or shouldn't have told her and more to do with her testing the boundaries," he snapped back, glaring at the white haired woman. "Don't tell me how to raise my own kid."
She cleared her throat and looked embarrassed. "I really shouldn't be interfering in matters that don't concern me. You have every right to spank her and I'm sorry."
Now it was Logan's turn to sigh. He'd hurt Storm's damn feelings. He could see where Anna got her mouth from and felt like kicking himself repeatedly.
"You're entitled to your opinion," he told her gruffly. "Even if I don't care much for it."
Logan savoured the silence and took his time finishing his beer. He would pay no mind to what Storm had said. He knew his daughter well enough - Even after all these years - to know spanking was the way to get through her stubborn nature and make the girl listen to him.
Today had just gone to show he was correct in his thinking. Tucking her in bed, she'd seemed like a different kid. And she had called him daddy. He would never have admitted it to anybody but he was the happiest he had been in a long time - Six years to be exact.
"I'm going to bed," Storm told him and he nodded. "Goodnight, Logan."
He wasn't the type of guy to wish people sweet dreams, so he stood there watching her walk away and casting his mind back over the day. It was one twenty-fours he wouldn't want to repeat in a hurry and he still had a beer thief to catch. That would have to wait until the morning, though his craving for a smoke couldn't.
Finishing his beer, he tossed it in the trash can as he let himself out of the kitchen and stalked through the garage. Picking up only the scents and sounds of the odd nocturnal animal, mostly owls and mice, he lit his cigar with his lighter and made his way slowly around the grounds - Stopping to check each perimeter and sniff for any sign of Sabretooth.
That monster wouldn't have been stupid enough to attack a mansion full of mutants but Logan liked to be sure. It was his job to keep the grounds safe and he always did everything to the best of his ability.
Taking a short cut across the grass, he stood on something and peered down, his enhanced sight immediately pinning the object in his gaze and causing him to chuckle.
Logan bent down to retrieve the spatula and glanced up at the kid's window. He guessed the utensil had really made an impression on her. So much so, she'd had to chuck it out here and as far away from her backside as possible.
Chuckling again, he slipped it back into his pocket and continued on his walk the half smoked cigar hanging loosely from his lips.
"Kid, time to get up."
I bury my head under the pillow and groan. I swear everything that happened yesterday is enough to send me to the loony bin and with the parents I've got, I'm surprised I ain't already there chained to a bed and waiting for a lobotomy.
"Hellsthematterwithya?" I mumble, already drifting back into a deep and welcomed sleep.
The pillow being dragged off the damn bed, then the sheets, instantly wakes me up and I crack one eye tired, hazy eye open and glare. I look at the clock by the bed and grit my teeth. That bright, red, glowing number look awfully like a…
"Mah God, it's half five in the mornin'. If the place ain't on fire, Ah ain't movin'."
Even if this place was on fire I still wouldn't move. Fires that start this early in the morning are an inconvenience too many. I don't do mornings, I freakin' hate them and I'm a night owl. I never roll outta bed before two in the afternoon.
"You've got chores to do today," Logan informs me, marching over to the window and throwing the curtains open. "So move it."
"Why the hell are ya openin' the curtains? It ain't even light outside," I snort, reaching for my sheets on the floor. "Ya nothin' but a nutjob an' it's too early. Come back later when ya find ya sanity. Ah'll be more than happy tah tell ya tah go jump in the Hudson River with concrete boots on then."
He does the thing with his eyebrow and in two strides he's snatching the sheets outta my hand.
The Bastard. It's still too early to even fight.
"It'll be light soon, and you've had enough sleep. So. Get. Your. Ass. Up. Now!" he demands, glaring down at me.
He's right, it's already getting light out there and I feel my poor eyelids drooping as I try to talk him into leaving me alone.
"Look, Ah don't know what crazy thangs ya do here with those other geeks, but Ah don't get up before midday."
"You do now."
"No Ah - Hey!" I yelp when he turns the freakin' mattress over and I tumble to the damn carpet, landing on my still sore butt. Shit, I forgot about that. How the heck could I forget about that?
Logan gazes down at me with a grin on his face and I snarl at him. He only leans down and ruffles my bed hair causing me to scowl. What I'd do to be able to bite his fingers off right now and wipe the smirk off his face. I would sell my own Mama on the black market for that chance.
"You better be ready and in the kitchen by six. Don't make me come drag your sorry ass down there," he warns me, ruffling my hair one last time and leaving the room.
I turn over and collapse onto my side, snuggling into the sheets and groaning. I wanna go back to bed. Why can't some shitty chores wait until the afternoon? They ain't going nowhere. Better yet, why can't the other geeks do them? Why me, why the hell me?
I caved in, I'm a geek and ya'll have the right to point, laugh and make fun of me. I'm actually washed, dressed and ready - Even walking into the kitchen dead on six in the freakin' morning. Wearing my green hoodie, too. It's kinda muddy but it's gang culture. It don't matter if it's a little dirty.
There's nobody even in here and I huff under my breath. Why did the idiot make me get up if he ain't gonna be here?
Screw that, my eyes are instantly drawn to the garage door and I wonder if I can get my backpack outta the van and the beer into the fridge without being caught. Of course I can, I've got skills and all that shit. I've been trained by the gang for missions just like this. 'Cept, the cops are usually chasing us down, not a nut job with a spatula.
It's worth a try and I'm rushing through the door and trying the door handle to the van before I even know what I'm doing. Luckily the van's unlocked and I couldn't be happier when I'm back in the kitchen with my bag in record time. I could be happier, but people ain't allowed to sleep in this mansion apparently.
Footsteps. Shit. Footsteps!
I'm fighting with the zipper on my bag and I pull the bottle out. My heart's gonna explode, I swear I'm dead. So dead. I'm gonna die in like seconds.
Oh God, I ain't got time to get to the fridge and quickly stuff the beer bottle in the other rucksack lying on the kitchen table. Shoving my bag onto one of the seats, I cross my arms and try to look innocent when Storm walks into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Anna. You're up early, I'm impressed," she says serenely, looking as though she's just returned from a fashion shoot. How the heck does she do it?
"It's Rogue."
She glances at me over her shoulder. "Oh, is there any reason for that nickname?"
I shrug my shoulders and she smiles.
The dork comes rushing in, almost bumping into Storm or Ororo, whatever her name is. He apologises to her and I cover my nose. The guy stinks.
"Would you like some pancakes, Rogue?"
My attention is still on Scott and I don't answer her. He reaches for the backpack on the table, then stops, sighs and jogs back out of the room.
I think I might have dumped Logan's bottle of beer in the dork's bag. Okay, now I'm glad I'm up outta bed and down here. That boy pissed me off the minute I set eyes on his ugly face. And what is that smell?
"Rogue?"
"What?" I answer, staring at Storm.
She asks me if I want pancakes again and I nod my head.
Aw, I want the dork to come back in. Now if only Logan was here it could get really interesting. If there is a God up there, I'm gonna kiss him 'cause my prayers have just been answered. Logan's here and he's sniffing. That was one of his mutations weren't it?
The dork runs back in and I try not to smirk.
"You need to lay off the aftershave, Slim," Logan grunts, taking a mug out of the cupboard.
Damn, I bet he can't smell anything over that sickening stench. If I eat those pancakes, they ain't gonna stay down for long. I wouldn't give it five minutes.
"It's Jean's favourite," the dork replies, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Why'd ya take a bath in her perfume?" I question him, thinking out loud.
He stares at me, picking up his bag. "I meant Jean bought me the aftershave for my birthday and it's her favourite."
I don't like his tone of voice and glance over at the adults. They both have their backs to me - Storm's mixing the pancake batter and Logan's snorting ground coffee beans up his enormous nostrils. In other words he's brewing some dark mixture that may or may not be coffee. I'll have to get back to ya on that.
Good. I won't have no witnesses then when I do this.
"I've got to leave early, basketball try outs are today and I want to get a few hours of-"
The dork strolls past me, about to shift his bag from his hand to his shoulder and I trip him up, watching his ass fall to the ground. Damn, he never saw that coming and I take a deep breath, trying to stifle the giggles.
The icing on the cake is when both adults swing round spotting the dork and the bottle of beer both smash to the tiles. I mean it, the boy's face has hit the ground with the same crack the bottle did.
I have to cover my mouth with my hand and stop my shoulders from shaking or I'm so gonna give myself away.
"Goodness, Scott! Are you okay?" Storm cries, rushing over to him.
Logan only stands there his face growing darker by the second. He sniffs once, twice and a third time and even I'm starting to feel kinda scared.
"That's my goddamn beer!" he roars and I actually take a step back.
The laughter has now gone.
The dork splutters, Storm gasps and Logan hauls Scott off the kitchen floor by his shirt. He growls and they're almost nose to nose.
"You take my beer, I take all your free time. No try outs for you, Summers. Your ass is mine. Now get to the Danger Room," Logan commands, shoving Scott roughly to the door.
The dork is still trying to talk and seems to be having a little trouble. The growling mutant stalking after him don't seem to be helping.
False alarm. The laughter is now back and I just got outta those chores. My daddy's forgotten all about me again and I couldn't care less.
I double over with laughter, wiping the tears away from my eyes. Storms stops cleaning the glass up and shakes her head in disbelief.
"Panache."
"Nah, it's Rogue," I whisper, choking on the laughter.
"It's a word, dear. It means to have a flamboyant style of courage or dashing confidence. And it's something I never knew Scott Summers possessed," Storm responds, standing up and brushing the glass into the trash can. "This is so very out of character for him."
"Yeah, ain't it great?"
She looks over at me and I think she's caught me out. Then she smiles. "How many pancakes would you like?"
I'm gonna rejoice - This freakin' morning is the best!
