Wolverine and Company ch 11
…………………………….
Vanessa's POV
I woke up with a lazy yawn, sitting up in my bed and looking around my room.
Quiet.
Which meant that Logan had already gotten up for the morning or was—yeah he was still asleep.
It was such a shame that he was at his prime of innocence when he was sleeping; when he was awake, he was a demon. I figured at most, my son would be the same way…ah what joys I have to look forward too.
Stretching my hands above my head and looking down at my growing belly I sighed. Five months in and already I couldn't believe how big this little sucker has gotten. I swear he must be a little fatty in there for there's no way I could be this large at five months.
I looked like I was 6 and a half, maybe seven.
The others thought I was crazy but I knew it was true. If the rest of my body wasn't so damn tiny, I might have looked like the months I had acquired but a huge bump attached to a tiny stick looked made the bump exaggerated, thus added the extra month.
Just fabulous.
I yawned again and gently swished the covers from off my body, careful not to disturb Logan but unfortunately no sort of noise or movement could sweep paste the Wolverine's ears for when I stood up, he peeked one eye open and let go a mighty yawn.
"Good Morning" I told him; slightly apologetic I woke him up. He was tossing and turning again last night and I knew it was a rough one; he was probably still tired.
Yawning again and rubbing his eyes, Logan sat up and stretched, extracting his claws and stretching to the highest he could reach before retracting them and letting go of a sigh.
He looked towards me silently, hair disarrayed and blinking ever-so-sleepily before mumbling.
"Happy birthday"
What?
Happy Birthday to who? Our son was far from being bor—
Oh shit, it was my birthday! And his too! Dammit I completely forgot.
Not that the mansion hasn't been keeping us on constant birthday alert for the passed week but it's not exactly something I keep in the foreground of my mind.
I couldn't believe it; another birthday.
This would be my third in which I spent at the mansion and my third in sharing with Logan.
It was an interesting story how I was dubbed a birthday since as you can already guess, I didn't know mine.
I came to the mansion jumbled, disorganized and confused and learned quickly in the short time span that I was here that the mansion takes part in celebrating birthdays in a big way (which can get quite annoying seeing as the number of kids that attend here).
I was confused about what a birthday was or how one goes about celebrating it, and seeing as it was Marie's birthday being celebrated at the time, she filled me in on all the status quos of a birthday.
It seemed foolish to me but as the day passed on I became rather sad as I witnessed the happiness and joys being passed around and the realization that I would never have one of those. I felt like an android for the mere fact that I didn't have a birthday…at least not one that I could remember and therefore I wouldn't never have a special day, dedicated to me in which I could celebrate…well life at it's best.
And that's when Marie decided to extend the invitation to make her birthday, my birthday as well. And as far as my understanding goes, she did the same for Logan when he was faced with the same dilemma a year prior.
And so now here we stand, three years later, all of us—Logan, Marie and I— sharing a birthday on the same day.
And I was pregnant; joy.
I stared back at Logan who blinked back at me. "Right back at ya, Steroid" I said, and he grunted, rising up out of the bed and stretching again.
"So how old are ya now preggo?" he asked. "Twenty-four?"
I glared. "It's eleven years junior to your thirty-five." He seethed. According to our somewhat faux passports and social security cards (the professor had to keep us legal), today I was twenty-four and Logan was thirty-five.
I've been told I look the part and Logan to and extent (Personally I think he looks a little younger) but in actual reality, who the hell knows how old the both of us really are. Our mutations keep our aging chromosome slowed down at an all time low so I could very well be as old and Hank and Logan as old as the professor—maybe even more.
But for appearances sake, the professor kept our birth years into close proximity with our features and so this is how old we were I guess.
"Could be worse" Logan said as he ran a hand through his tangled locks. "I could be pregnant"
Now I pelted him with a pillow and he chuckled. "Shut-up you moron!"
He full out laughed now. "Don't be such a sour puss, I was only kidding."
"Well it's not funny" I pouted. "You're son is growing to be quite heavy."
He walked around the
bed and joined me at my side. But not before throwing me another
sarcastic remark. "Whimp" he said and I glared.
"I don't
find you—"
My words were put to halt with another one of his random, sudden kisses; only this time not so sudden and not to rough. It was sweet and tender, thoughtful and meaningful as he cupped my cheeks, tilted my chin and pulled my lips toward him for the touching moment.
Damn hopeless romantic.
"Happy Birthday" he said, this time, less sleepily and more tentative.
I sighed, more content that frustrated and looked up into his hazel orbs.
"Thank you" I said and followed up with a short kiss of my own. "And happy birthday to you too."
XXXXXX
I wasn't really in the "birthday wearing mood" and therefore settled on a pair of black track pants and solid navy blue tee shirt. Never mind you that the tee shirt was one of those "fitted" T-shirts and hugged my body ever-so-sexily—so read the sales promotion— so now my belly was clearly defined and almost begging to be touched (by onlookers, not by my request). But as I came along in my pregnancy I began to care less and less that I was well…pregnant. Not to get carried away or anything, I mean the touching still pissed me off till no end, and the growing bulge made me want to want to regurgitate my lunch, but I was at least proud of the fact that my son was in there so I figured I might as well wear him proudly.
Logan decided to go with his usual, plaid shirt, white undershirt, jeans jacket and dark wash jeans and we were both ready for what was to be (I'm sure) a loaded day of birthday "fun" (fun being a relative word).
"You ready?" he asked and I sighed and slipped on my fuzzy black flip-flops. Normally I'd go for flashy boots or strappy sandals but pregnancy was rough on my poor little feet.
"Yeah I supposse….promise you'll share birthday cake with me?"
His face crinkled; I knew he had a thing with cake; wasn't a fan of the sugar.
"I'll do my best." He promised and I laughed, giving him another kiss.
"C'mon"
And so we left.
We walked down the halls as we normally did when headed for breakfast, Logan with a solid, poker face on and me with my…whatever the hell you call my face one, with one hand, rested gently over my belly.
We passed by a few other members of the staff and some of the kids, each one stopping to wish us a happy birthday and I took it with gratitude as Logan grunted and kept walking.
I'm not sure he handles aging gracefully; figuratively speaking of course.
When we ascended down the stairs and reached the first floor, Logan surprised me by taking my hand in his, and lacing his fingers between mine as we made our way to the kitchen.
I only looked up at him, surprised, as he smirked down at me, knowing I'd react as such but I accepted it with a smile and continued with him to breakfast.
I only wish I hadn't; what was waiting for Logan and I nearly sent me into premature labor.
During the passed few months Xavier was doing some renovations to the mansion. A little bit of buildings added here, a bit of remodeling there and one of which included the addition of a swinging door to the kitchen's entrance ways.
There's no way one could see through the white wood's solid frame (unless being swooshed, back and forth—a danger to my belly if I might add—) and I was so distracted by Logan's strong manly hands laced in my petite ones that I had expected at the least what greeted us when we swooshed trough the doors.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" was shouted, followed by the blowing of a few of those things they squawk during New Years.
I responded with my first instinct, which unfortunately was demoted (thanks to being pregnant) from an extraction my claws, to a startled scream with a leap in the air.
The others laughed a warm-hearted laugh and Logan smirked. I glared through the corner of my eyes; I was beginning to think he was in on this.
However, Rogue was the first to greet us out of our usual group, bouncing up and down in excitement of not only her own birthday, but the birthday of her father-figure and I guess me too.
"Hey Logan, hey Vanessa!" she squealed. "Happy birthday!" she said again, and embraced braced both of us in a group hug before pulling back with a full smile.
It was one of the few times I saw the girl truly happy for a change and I couldn't help but smile a small smile. Rogue was such a good person. So sweet, caring and humble. She deserved the amount of happiness I was sure she was feeling now. Especially since this was her eighteenth birthday. I've been overhearing her and her friends ramble on about it for weeks.
"Thanks Rogue" I said, and my hand found it's way back on my belly.
She beamed and Logan pulled her into a hug, ruffling her hair as he always did.
"Hey!" she complained, although I knew she liked it. She gave him a soft frown and fixed her hair and the plastic birthday crown situated on her head that read "Happy Eighteenth"; she was so adorable.
"Happy birthday kid" Logan said and she beamed some more.
"C'mon you guys" Rogue grabbed each of our hands and led us to the table. "Look what Storm made…a pancake…cake!" she exclaimed and pointed to the pancake masterpiece.
It was interesting, I'll admit. I knew Storm was a good cook but I didn't know she was that crafty in the kitchen.
There were several pillars of pancakes stacked on top of each other and aligned in the shape of a square with burning candles stuck in a few spots to give the illusion of what it was; a breakfast cake.
I looked over at Logan and I could tell he was amused. Not only at the cake but at the other foods scattered around the table in what appeared to be a buffet.
Fruit salad, toast, waffles, eggs (scrambled and sunny-side up), a few bagels, cereal, orange juice, apple juice, coffee and let's not forget Logan's favorite…steak.
I know he's drooling.
"What loaded table" he commented.
Ororo smiled. "It's a loaded day. Three birthdays in one day? Almost beats the four birthdays we have with the kids." Yeah you heard right, four birthdays. You try having a mansion full of kids and see if birthdays don't interlude. I'm pretty sure John was apart of that four-birthday loop, but he didn't like the fuss so he normally kept secluded.
"Thanks Ro'" Logan said, not a hint of sarcasm present in his voice. Everyone knows the way to a Wolverine's heart is through steak.
"Your welcome" she smiled.
"Alright, alright, thank you's later…blowing of the candles now" Scott interrupted. "I'm starved"
"Yeah, Mr. Summers is right" John agreed. "I'll die if I don't eat soon"
There was a table-wide eye-roll before Rogue wedged herself between Logan and myself and began the countdown. "Ok ready? All together" she instructed. "3-2-1" and we blew out the candles together.
Jean snapped a picture (the first of many I'm sure) and everyone grabbed their plates, helping themselves to the food.
Logan surprised me yet again for the morning by fixing my plate and guiding me to my seat, popping a kiss to my lips before getting his own.
Hmm; wonder what's gotten into him today.
"Yummy, steak" he said, once getting around to fixing his own plate. "Why Storm, my favorite food, however did you know?"
She giggled at his unusual playfulness and set the professor's plate in front of him. "It's a once a year thing Logan so don't get used to it. The calories will kill you one day"
"That is if beer doesn't first" he said and took a seat next to me. "But I'll die a happy man"
"Logan, a happy man?" Scott interviewed, taking his seat next to his wife. "Logan, I think you just set off the first stage in the apocalypse; you'd better repent, and fast."
Logan glared. "Shut-it one-eye" I giggled. Hadn't heard that one in awhile.
There was momentary silence from eating until the conversation picked up again.
"Can't believe your finally eighteen now Rogue" Jubilee exclaimed, swallowing her food. "Now we can party-hardy together!"
I watched as she received stares from the others—the others being the primary staff—and I shook my head in shame; yellow girl really didn't understand the concept of there being a time and a place for everything.
"Party-hardy meaning….."Scott pressed on.
"Meaning…………much more time in the library studying for that diploma Mr. Summers." She grinned. Nice save…I think.
Scott raised an eye-brow before turning to Rogue. "Rogue I know you're normally responsible and having the freedom to be eighteen is great, but it's important to remember to be careful and not get carried away."
Logan paused from his steak. "Blah, blah, blah, if that's not the most loaded piece of horse-shit I ever heard." He said as John chuckled from the other side of the table. He always found our spouts rather amusing.
Scott rolled his eyes. "Listen kid, you're only young once so don't miss an opportunity if it smacks you in the face. You're a mutant and things are three-times more difficult than normal people so I say fuck it and have fun."
Dropping his fork and sighing heavily, Scott gave Logan a dry stare. "Why on Earth do you have to undermine everything I say Logan?" he asked and the Wolverine smirked.
"Not everything; just the boring things" he retorted and Scott sighed again.
Rogue however giggled. "I promise to have fun Logan" she said. "And be responsible Mr. Summers. I'm not gonna throw everything away."
Scott looked pleased and Logan rolled his eyes.
"That's very mature of you Rogue" the professor suddenly side-stepped in. "I'm proud"
She smiled.
"Well…you're still gonna' have your party, aren't you Rogue" Kitty suddenly said, after wiping her mouth.
"Professor?" Rogue turned to the dean for an answer and he smiled.
"Of course; it's what you wanted for your birthday and I promised I'd hold up my end of the deal."
Rogue beamed again.
You know in some ways I found the professor to be like rich-old-daddy-kins, giving his little babies whatever they desired. You should see what it's like around here at Christmas time; everything is elaborate.
And for birthdays, it's more it seems; just on a personal level.
Rogue had asked for her eighteenth birthday to include the entire mansion in an outdoor picnic for the afternoon and transition into a dance in the evening for the older kids who didn't have cur view (at least cur view passed ten). Of course the professor couldn't say no, after all it was Rogue and it was her eighteenth birthday so he complied.
From what I hear, he's booked a DJ, had party planners decorate and theme the ballroom (part of the renovations) ordered an enormous cake, and had his chef's staff busy all day yesterday preparing food for the event.
Must be nice to be rich.
"Great" she said. "I'm excited." And she was; she was practically jumping up and down in her seat.
"And what about you two love-birds" Jean said, turning to Logan and myself.
Lovebirds? Since when did we become lovebirds? I'm not sure I liked that nickname.
I could tell she was reading me like a book. "Don't give me that look Vanessa. I saw the two of you locked in hands and that exchange when Logan handed you your plate." I glared at her. Well thanks for putting it out there for the world. Ever heard of privacy?! "Have anything romantic planned for today?"
"Why?" I asked. "It's just a birthday"
"But you share it on the same day" Storm chimed in. "Why not make it special?"
Logan and I turned to face each other, and we both shrugged.
"Just give me some stake and a few beers and I'll be happy" he responded. "Today's really about the kid, don't worry about us"
Rogue frowned. "Oh but Logan, I shared my birthday with you and Vanessa so you guys could have fun too." She pouted. "I don't want to have all the fun without you."
He smiled and ruffled her hair again. "I have plenty of fun watching you have fun kid, don't worry about it. Like I said, beer and steak makes me happy; I'm already half-way there."
She smiled.
"Well what about you Vanessa?" she asked. "What do you want for your birthday?"
Heh, funny she should ask.
Not that I had this grand, exuberant, list of what I wanted for my birthday but, somehow my birthday just….didn't feel like my actual birthday.
Not that I'd know what my actual birthday felt like but it just felt strange to me. It was nice of Rogue to share her day with Logan and I but somehow I failed in receiving that happiness people get in knowing it's their special day.
This being the third year, it still really hasn't computed with me. Logan mentioned to me last year about birthday's really being for kids and fizzling out as people got older but I saw the way Jean or Ororo or Scott would beam when it was their birthday and I could still never get that feeling.
To me it just felt like…any other day.
What was there to celebrate when I couldn't remember?
I sighed and I guess the sigh was a response to Rogue's question for her face grew concerned and the table stared at me.
Oops. Didn't mean to do that out loud; better recover. "Oh um, sorry about that….went off in thought again. Uhhh….you know the party idea is really a great one Rogue, that's all I really need, honestly. Close friends" I said with a faux smile.
She bought it…sort of, and smiled half-heartedly. "Are you sure Vanessa?" she asked. "There's nothing else? Nothing else that would be just absolutely amazing?"
I have to admit, as much as I find it grotesquely annoying on others, I found Rogue's spirit to be admirable. She always wanted the best for people and was willing to go above and beyond to help other people feel special. If I weren't mistaken I'd say she was like a mini-Storm.
"Really it's alright Rogue. Your party sounds great. I don't need anything huge to celebrate my birthday. Just like Logan said, the simple things will—hell-o!"
I suddenly paused.
What the hell was that?
The table slowly paused with me, obviously curious at my sudden interlude and Logan stared on in concern.
"Ness'" he asked. "You alright?"
I looked down at my stomach. Am I all right?
I just got the weirdest sensation I've ever felt since this entire pregnancy. Well….aside from the morning sickness and the growing bump. I felt the weirdest little shudder coming from inside and it felt strangely…well strange was the only way I could put it. Maybe it wasn't a shudder….maybe it was a jump, or a twist or a—
THUMP.
There it goes again.
I dropped my fork, as did Jean and Logan.
"Is it the baby?" Ororo asked.
"Yeah" I said unsurely "….it feels a little weird"
"Vanessa, do you want me to call your doctor?" Jean said quickly, preparing to stand up as Logan had already done and stood by my side.
"No…" I responded slowly. "I don't think it's anything serious I think its—"
THUMP
There it is again, only this time my uncertainty morphed into a smile. I knew what that was. I was no doctor and I've never been pregnant before nor have I had this sensation before but call it mothers tuition, I knew what that little thump was.
I smiled up at Logan, and his concerned look met mine.
"He's kicking me" I told him and he responded with rumpled eyebrows.
"What?"
"The baby" I said. "He's kicking me…feel"
Grabbing his hand I placed it on the side of my belly where the kicking was coming from and no sooner did I place his hand there did he feel the soft, THUMP of our baby's kick.
He smiled softly. (The Wolverine was never one to grin proudly, although I knew he felt it) "That feels weird kid" he said aloud and returned back to his seat.
"I know it does but it's kind of………….. nice" I admitted. "It's like he's really alive in there" I looked down at my tummy again. What a strange little creature he was but he was my creature, and he couldn't have picked a better moment to cheer up his mommy with affirmation that his birth was approaching.
"He's kicking?!" Rouge suddenly beamed again. Resuming their eating, the others calmed down from their high once they realized the pause was from nothing more than a kick. "Oh, I wanna, feel, I wanna feel!" she sprung to her feet and rushed to my side and I placed her hand in the same spot I placed Logan's.
She's lucky I like her, for she knew how I felt about people's hands on my belly.
A few moments later the baby kicked again, as if knowing his on-lookers were pleased with his actions and it touched against Rogue's hand making her melt.
"Awww, that's amazing!" she gushed and embraced me in a hug.
I couldn't help but smile and agree.
"The baby is telling you happy birthday" she grinned and I looked down at my tummy again.
I guess he was telling me happy birthday. What a thoughtful little bugger.
I loved him already.
XXXXXXXXXXX
After breakfast was done, and the schedule was set for the day, I decided with all the hoo-hah, that was sure to happen, I'd need a little alone time and therefore retreated back to my room for awhile.
I was practically glowing at the breakfast table from my moving baby. Forgetting all about the birthday blues, I was ecstatic that my little boy was moving and grooving in there and making his mommy ever-so proud that he was healthy and happy.
Forget that it was another one of those, "emotional" things I normally don't get to wrapped up about (another one to add to my list of "Emotions to avoid during post-pregnancy"), it just felt amazing to feel him moving inside of me.
Weird isn't it. Weird how I find things pleasant now, that I once thought was gross.
But I was still happy.
I still felt that warm, motherly glow; and it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
Sighing a content sigh to myself I propped my feet up in the lawn chair and looked up at the sky.
I was sunny out but still cold. Normally it was all dreary considering it was the middle of January but the sun decided to shine it's head for the sake of Marie's birthday—and mines, and Logan's.
Damn it, here come the birthday blues again.
No warm, fuzzy feeling, don't go away. Come back, I don't want to be sad again.
Quick baby, kick mommy again.
Looking down at my tummy, I was actually foolish enough to wait for a response but I guess since there weren't any on-lookers, the baby had no reason to show-off and therefore, it was null and void.
I frowned.
"Great" I grumbled, flopping back in the chair.
I guess it's back to the birthday blues.
Not that it's actually the blues, I'm not manic depressive or anything like that but…I do tend to get a bit of an empty feeling inside when it comes to this day.
It's just rough; rougher then one might think; going around day to day with no memory of who you are. And days like today where you're actually supposed to remember who you are and reflect on your past and celebrate your future make it extra hard.
At least I know my future now; my future is with my son. But it's still hard not having a past to reflect on.
It's such a strange thing; such a strange thing a lot of people take for granted.
Memories, feelings, experiences, happiness, joy, sadness, pain.
I don't have any of those; I can't remember any of them prior to my operation. So I basically have to start all over again; making to memories, experiencing new things and finding my feelings of sadness and joy.
I don't have a lot of what other people have. I don't know who I am, where I came from or what I represent. I don't know what I've experienced, what I've liked or disliked or what decisions I made and why I made them. I can't learn from the past because I don't have one and I can't pass my teachings on to my son because I'm learning everything all over again.
It's tough to walk around aimlessly in life not knowing who you are or where you belong and trying to find a place to fit it.
And now it's dually as tough, now that I'm brining a baby into the world and I don't have anything to offer him other than what I am now and what I've learned in well….three years. I'd be a baby, just like him and there'd be no lessons to teach other than things I've heard or my contorted images of what I think is right.
I sighed hard.
It's times like these that I wonder if I'd actually be a good mother.
All irresponsible badass things aside (I kind of want my kid to be a badass), how can I teach my son to be the best he can be when neither me, nor his father have anything to offer him. We've worked with what we have (virtually nothing) but we have nothing of insight, nothing of character and nothing of essence to give him. We're two adult babies, being thrusted into the world and forced to survive; we have nothing of "been there done that" and "mommy and daddy know best" to give to him. We're still learning ourselves.
Running a hand through my hair I sighed yet again.
Man, maybe I am manic-depressive; I don't think it's the hormones this time.
"You waiting to get shot by a sniper or what?"
Jesus Christ!
For the second time that day I screamed but instead of jumping in fright like I did in the kitchen, my claws jutted out of my knuckles (so much for first reactions going out the window) and I quickly got up out my chair and cradled my hand.
"Shit!" I yelled and retracted back the adamantium before Logan appeared at my side.
"Damn it, shit Vanessa!" he swore. "I didn't mean to scare ya. For fuck's sake, I'll go and get Jea—"
"No, no, Logan it's ok" His panic calmed as I held out my hand and we both watched the cuts slowly heal.
Whew, that was a close one.
Since the Magneto attack, there's been a few incidents when my claws have extracted involuntarily (stretching, nightmares, being scared shitless) and each time it's a pick and choose how fast they're going to heal once retracted; or for that matter, any part of my body once injured.
Once I had a nightmare and like the Magneto incident it took a few days too recuperate from that one, and other times like times when I stretched or even now when I was scared shitless, the cuts were gone over a matter of moments (of course the moments still being on delay thanks to the little ray of sunshine using mommy's energy…did I mention being pregnant sucks?)
"Damn Vanessa" he said, once he was sure my knuckles weren't going to bleed out. "I didn't mean to scare ya, I thought ya' heard me"
I half-smiled and rubbed my hands. Unfortunately though, no matter how long they took to heal, they were always sore as hell after-wards; damn pregnancy.
"Sorry" I said, "I was too deep in thought to pay attention"
"Well it's a good thing it was me and not that sniper" he responded and I playfully glared.
Logan is so lame sometimes. "Shut up."
He took my hand gently and led me inside. "It's cold out there kid, you'll catch sick" he cautioned, then he shut the balcony doors closed.
"Well then, I just won't catch it" I replied and now it was his turn to playfully glare. That was his favorite line he used on me when I cautioned him about getting sick. Yeah, you don't like it do ya Wolvie? Tasting your own medicine sucks doesn't it?
"C'mon 'Ness, I'll get ya some ice" he said but I stopped him by sitting down on the bed.
"No I'm ok" I replied. "I'll just run it under some hot water and I'll be fine"
"You sure?"
"Yeah"
There was a momentary lapse of silence before Logan broke it (again) by grasping my cheeks in his hands and kissing me on the for head.
I stared at him oddly. "Sweet" I admitted, eye-balling him up and down. He was up to something. "Not what I expected but sweet"
He chuckled. "What do you mean, not what you expected?"
"Well there was a lapse of awkward silence." I told him. "Normally you're supposed to break it by insulting me or telling me something random like….how the Giants are doing or something. Not by kissing me."
"Well I felt like kissing you this time, is that ok?"
I eyeballed him again. What was wrong with him?
"By the way, the Giants suck"
"What's gotten into you?"
Now he laughed. "What do you mean, what's gotten into me?"
"Stop repeating everything I say with a question" I countered. "Why are you being so nice to me today?"
Logan made his way to his dresser now and hauled out a cigar from the top drawer. Bastard; I want to smoke that.
"I'm sorry, because going on midnight snack runs for you is hardly considered nice anymore"
I rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean"
"No actually, I don't" Putting the cigar to his lips, he fished around for his lighter and lit it up, taking the first few puffs to get it going before one long, drag.
"Uhh, you can't smoke that in here Scare face" I reminded him and he looked at my belly.
"Oh right, I forgot."
Putting it out in an ashtray I pouted at the cigar gone to waste; I think a little part of me just died.
"Anyway" I began again, shrugging off the cigar-syndrome. "Back to your nice streak" I used my fingers as quotations and he smirked. "You kissed me this morning after insulting me, held my hand to breakfast, fixed my plate for me and now you kissed me again in an awkward moment? Something's up with you"
Logan laughed again. "Jeez Sherlock Holmes, you know you suck as a detective" My eyelids drew flat. "I already told you I liked you, can't I be nice to you?"
"It's not you" I said. "Your mean to the ones you like and cruel to the ones you despise"
He shrugged. "I guess but I feel like being nice to you today. Is that ok?"
I stared at him again. "Depends…." I responded slowly. "What's the catch?"
"Uhhhh" he thought for a moment. I knew this was too good to be true. "Just don't get mad when I say I forgot to buy you a birthday gift."
See.
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever" I said. "No birthday gift is better then the I am Stupid shirt you got me last year."
It really was a stupid gift. Instead of "I'm with stupid" the moronic shirt read, "I am Stupid" and had an arrow point upwards to myself. It was Logan's version of a gag gift and my catalyst to chase him through the halls and stab his ass.
He chuckled at the memory. "I remember that; that was a funny shirt"
I gave him a cold stare and he chuckled again. "Oh stop pouting 'Ness, there's no catch to this nice gig, so to speak, and I didn't forget to buy you a birthday gift. Honestly, can't a guy just be nice to his girl— ahh umm….baby's mother?…..for a day?"
I stared at him again for his slip up. What was that he almost said?
I shrugged it off. It was probably something stupid like girl-whore or girlie bitch. "Not when that man is you"
He sighed. "I'm honestly trying here Vanessa" I said, shamelessly defeated. "Mind meeting me half-way?"
Oh well. If he was truly honest, even if it was for today, might as well just give him the benefit of the doubt and cave in. Who could it honestly hurt in the long run?
"I guess" I told him and he scooped me up in his arms. "As long as you don't throw it in my face later"
"What's there to throw in your face? You've already become a softie."
Yanking free of his hold I gave him a deadly point. "You see! You see! I knew it! I knew there was a catch! You slimy mutt!"
He laughed again. I'm glad he thought this was funny, because I was far from amused. I hope he still thinks it's funny when he's sleeping on the sofa tonight.
"Stop that" he said. "You're acting crazy"
"Don't you call me crazy you…you…crazy"
"Nice one"
I glared yet again. "Shut-up"
"C'mon Vanessa, I'm just trying to cheer you up. I know what you were thinking about"
"You have no idea—" Oh, ah. That old bit.
I suddenly calmed down from my outburst and sighed, plopping on the bed.
"How'd you know?" I asked him. "Are you psychic too?"
He snorted. "Please, if I was psychic, this mansion would be chaos." I laughed. "I just know because I think about the same thing"
Ah. I temporarily forgot we shared the same mind…sort of. In a weird, android, carbon copy, boy/girl kind of way.
"Any advice?"
He thought for a moment. "Uhh, no not really. I normally just drink and smoke it off."
I looked down at my belly. "I'm so happy for you"
He chuckled. "Hey" he said gently, and I turned to look at him. "You're gonna be a great mom alright? Forget the past thing and just look ahead. As long as we give our kid everything we got, he'll be ok."
"I guess" I said and he planted another kiss on my lips.
My eyebrows scrunched together. "Now look who cares about making other people happy." I grinned and he frowned. Ha! That's two doses of your own medicine kid. It's still nasty isn't it?
"I don't care about making other people happy" he corrected and I snorted.
"Then what's with the—"
"I just care about making you happy."
Damn it!
How the hell am I supposed to be mean to him when he's being so nice to me?
Asshole!
"Ugnuh, you make it impossible for me to insult you" I admitted and he kissed me again.
"That's the plan preggo."
Suddenly I felt another THUMP. Now he decides to kick me.
I looked down at my belly. "I don't think it's only me, you made happy."
He smirked and placed his hand on my belly feeling as the baby thumped again. What a little show-off. "Well then I correct myself. I only care about making you and little boy jr happy then."
"Heh. Wolverine's company?"
"Wolverine and company. Yep. That's my only care for happiness."
Now I kissed him. "That's sweet of you."
"Good cause' I've been working on that one for the passed week."
I laughed. "Well good job Sergeant Wolf. You pass with flying colors."
He mocked saluted me. "Ma'am, permission to accompany you to Marie's picnic?"
"Permission granted."
We smirked at each other and he took my hand and pulled me up from off the bed.
"Getting a little heavy there Ness'" he commented and I snorted again.
"Don't blame me, blame your son" I retorted. "He's a little fatty"
THUMP.
Hey, don't you kick me. You are a fatty you little butter ball.
THUMP.
All right, forget the motherly joy, this was getting annoying.
"If you say so Ness' but I think it's just you. You've been scarfing down elephants these passed couple months"
I glared at him. Only cause your son wants it! You think I like eating that much?
I looked toward my belly again. What? Nothing for the insult from your father? C'mon now, subliminally, he's calling your mother an elephant?
Nothing? Nothing?!
Fine, I see who's side your on. We'll just have to fix that when you're born.
THUMP.
Ow. Little brat.
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