(A/N): Happy Friday! Let's check in on how Director Stabby is doing, shall we? ;)

Thanks as always to our writers who continue to support one another and who make this story what it is :) Thanks to our rock stars, Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41, for making us smile every time we put up a new chapter, too. We also love Kory's fun way of speaking, and Gar is too precious for this world and we should all resolve to wrap him in blankets and give him cookies and milk ;)


Chapter Fifty Three - Reality Check

James 'Logan' Howlett and Agent Skye

Howlett Estate, District Seven

Written By Canucklehead Cowgirl


"That's the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it's impossible to ever see the end. The fog is like a cage without a key." -Elizabeth Wurtzel

"Whether people be of high or low birth, rich or poor, old or young, enlightened or confused, they are all alike in that they will one day die." ― Tsunetomo Yamamoto


James 'Logan' Howlett

Twenty Fourth Victor and SHIELD Director


Sharp pain high on his leg shifted from a burning sensation to feeling as if someone was sliding a hand over his skin. Logan could feel someone pressing him backward, and he couldn't raise his arms, but he could hear Viper's soft laugh in his ear as her lips brushed his neck …

His vision swam as Viper's image shifted into Helena. "You're not allowed to die," Helena instructed him briskly. "You may outrank me, but I'm not having it." He watched her frown down at him as he struggled to take a breath, and a moment later there was an oxygen mask over his face. He tried to raise his hand to move the mask and realized that he was restrained. He growled and yanked at the straps ineffectively. Helena shook her head, and rested a hand over the wrist nearest her. "Calm down. It's just to keep you from slashing anyone by accident." She moved her hand to rest it gently on his chest. While her voice was soothing, her expression was concerned. Logan had seen that expression before, onscreen, when Grayson was ―

"I'm serious, Logan. You aren't going anywhere on my watch."

He closed his eyes, but that was clearly a mistake, since when he opened them again, it was Viper's hand on his chest, somehow keeping him from sitting up and weighing down on him like lead. Her other hand reached up to cover the mask on his face as his panic level ratcheted higher. "Just relax. I won't let you die."


Logan sat up with a gasp. He was sweating, his heart was racing, and he couldn't place where he was. He could remember the sensation of having been drugged … not only the dart but the way his head swam when the dosed drinks hit him or when they straight up injected him all those times since his 'victory tour'. Images of Viper flashed before his closed eyes … then shifted as various other faces from the Capitol slipped uninvited into his conscious thought until he was hyperventilating. His chest felt as if it was being crushed. It was hard to breathe …his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't focus enough to ball up the blanket under him in his fist…. He had to get control of himself. Fast.

His heart was still racing, and his choices were either allow himself to let the panic overtake him or attempt to put to use whatever he could remember from his training. His first few attempts at slowing his breathing were entirely fruitless, and Logan found himself swearing as it seemed to get worse. He wanted to run, to push himself hard until he couldn't breathe from exhaustion, but that wasn't really feasible when he could hardly manage to get to his feet. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember something centering.

The mental image of sunrise over the nearest ridge lasted long enough to dissolve into fire ripping through the trees in his mind with Wayne manor in flames in the foreground. His breaths came in short, desperate gasps … and he tried again, this time working on something more specific.

In a moment, he was remembering stalking through the trees, forcing himself to recall every careful step he'd taken on one particular day near a small, lesser known lake nearby. The young trees were bending gently in the early summer breezes and as Logan recreated every movement in his mind's eye, he could feel his breath coming easier, steadier, and more slowly. Once he got started on the memory, he was sure to let it play out, since it was one that rarely failed him. That day had started as a hunt, but ended with his weapons forgotten as a young spotted fawn with bright, wide eyes let him pet her soft, downy fur once he'd crept close enough to touch the doe at her side.

Logan opened his eyes and looked around the room, still cycling his breathing as he reached for a slightly deeper calmness. He could at least see where he was, and though that didn't help his anxiety level much, it was a reminder that he wasn't in the Capitol, and he wasn't with Viper.

It was still dark out, and it was hard to tell in the house what time it was without a clock. It had to be early, and he hadn't been to bed for long, but he wasn't going back to sleep after that. Logan stared at rug on the floor for a moment before a shiver passed down his spine … prompting him to get up fast. He dressed silently and padded over to the balcony to step outside, where it only took a few minutes to get his bearings. By his best measure, it was about an hour before dawn; the skies were at their blackest, and the cold wind off the mountains had stilled. But Logan was restless.

If he'd waited for sunrise, Logan knew he'd see the colors starting to show on the trees. So much had been happening, so much had changed … leaving him with nothing but an even heavier feeling in the pit of his stomach.

I shouldn't be here, Logan thought to himself bitterly as he listened to the sounds of the forest beyond the walls of the Howlett Estate. The call of the wild was both a balm for his soul and a dangerous distraction to his focus. As much as he wanted to run into the forest's embrace and disappear … the code he'd taken to heart was whispering in his ear that it would be cowardly to do so with so many relying on him. And that had him cursing himself even harder.

So many had died under his watch. And for some reason, though the mission to kill Viper had been wildly successful, Logan had also lived through it. That … he really hadn't planned for that. He glanced over to the dresser on the far wall where the letter Wade had written him outlining his feelings on the matter still sat, only slightly crumpled after Logan read it. Wade hadn't done his job. Not how Logan had hired him to, anyhow — not that it surprised him in the least. Hope you're enjoying your money, ya freakin' nutjob, Logan thought bitterly to himself.

Deeply lost in his thoughts, Logan was surprised to find himself stepping into his father's old study a short while later. There was already coffee brewing near the window; other than the sounds of the little machine percolating away, the office rang with a hollow, muted tic-tock from the old walnut grandfather clock standing near the door. The office, like the rest of the house, had an abundance of rich, deeply-colored, hand-carved woods — black walnut, cherry, and mahogany inlaid with bird's eye maple, which accented the warmer woods with almost metallic golden swirls.

With a cup of coffee in hand, Logan took a rare moment alone. As long as he was in the study, Mrs. Hopkins wouldn't fret over him. Which was probably why he was there so early. He was exhausted, but when he started to slow down, he found himself sliding toward a panic attack. Every. Time.

Logan stared out the window as dawn began to warm up the skies and sounds of movement deeper in the house became easier to decipher. Around the country, talk about how to progress into a new form of leadership that wasn't a monarchy was already in the air. People had growing hope for the first time in decades.

As he reached the bottom of his first cup of coffee, Logan glanced over at the old grandfather clock. Time had slipped past him quicker than he'd expected, and Skye was due any moment with the newest information from the districts. Hydra was on the ropes.

Logan pulled a few papers over — reports on how things were moving along. But … he didn't have much time to prep ahead of the wave as the remaining powers that be from SHIELD began to trickle in. Coulson was first, and he was quick to hand over a report and summarize what his sources in the air had to say. Logan refilled his mug as he listened, and then took the folder to sit down at the desk while the others came in, chatting among themselves. He barely shifted how he was sitting to make room as Skye slipped him a tablet with live updates on troop movement and Hill began to start the debrief on their latest successful strikes.

And it wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

Logan absently glanced up when Bruce Wayne slipped into the office. The strategizing session was in full swing by that time, and the room was fairly full, even for as large as it was. In addition to Hill, Coulson, and Quartermain, SHIELD's old watch was joining their conference via secured and highly encrypted lines that Fitz and Stark had created between them.

It hadn't missed Logan's notice that the men and women that had survived the kickoff of the revolution and transfer of power within SHIELD had, for the most part, learned to look at most of his suggestions with fresh eyes, and if he was being perfectly honest, he kind of hated it. It was one thing when Hill could only smirk at the attack plans they were using when before she would have argued heatedly on every point. It was another sensation entirely to have them avidly hanging on his every word.

Logan repressed the desire to shift his stance under their attention. They were all waiting. And mercifully, before the silence could fully take over, Hill had started speaking in a pleased and almost excited undertone about how the troops' morale couldn't have been higher. "They're energized," Hill was saying, "in part because they know now that their director is willing to dive into the trenches with them."

"Well," Quartermain said with a shrug. "It helps that they can see that as long as we stay on track — we're winning, too."

But Logan was tuning them out. He rested his thumb and forefinger across his brow, shading his eyes from them and staring at the tablet in front of him as they talked. There was a deep aching sensation in the center of his chest that seemed to radiate out, down his spine, into the pit of his stomach, leaving a rippling numbness in its wake as it seemed to try to drag all sorts of buried emotion with it. Pain, sorrow, rage … panic creeping up from the edges as he saw the photos from the casualties they were sustaining.

It seemed like no matter what move he made ... the wrong people were dying. And every one of them meant more blood on his hands.

He'd thought the strike on Viper was going to fix that.

While Coulson talked about the risk assessment that he'd just finished for the liberation of Districts Six and Ten, Logan scrubbed a hand over his face. Both looked like they were going to be another solid fight, but not unwinnable. He honestly didn't know why they kept asking him for every little thing now that they had a reasonable idea of how to handle it. It wasn't like his philosophy was hard to follow. Find a weakness and then attack. Hard. Keep hitting them until they were dead and then make sure they didn't get back up. It was pretty simple, really.

When he realized they were waiting on him, Logan quickly found his place in the intel that most matched up to what they were discussing and quietly said what he thought would work best before the morning meeting broke up.

Coulson and Hill headed out, chatting amicably between them, with Quartermain only staying long enough to get another cup of coffee before he left as well. Bruce stayed put long after the transmission from the other SHIELD people ended, though he wasn't really in Logan's focus when Logan was so preoccupied looking at the tablet, going over the casualties. The more seasoned SHIELD personnel were focused on the damage the districts themselves were sustaining, but Logan couldn't help but see the people that had nothing to do with it caught up in the middle.

He was so distracted with what he was looking at, he missed what Skye had said to him entirely. And he missed the playful teasing that came after she realized he'd missed what she said. "Come on, Logan," Skye said in a bright tone, her smirk crooked as she settled in next to him. "Or do I need to put you on the ground again to get your attention?"

"You gonna take long figurin' out this feed issue in Three? Or are you steppin' down from this side of things entirely to go with May and the rest of Coulson's team?" Logan asked her, frowning deeply with his focus on the intel. It wasn't until he glanced over at her lack of an answer that he saw that Skye had lost her smile entirely. He couldn't figure out why on earth she was suddenly looking so pale.

"Ah … yeah. I'll just … I'll get right on it," she said in a subdued tone, her gaze dropping to her hands. "I'll get it straightened up." Without more than a backward glance, Skye gathered up her laptop and rushed from the room.

"What was that?" Bruce asked, frowning Logan's way even before the door closed behind Skye fully.

"What?" Logan had gone right back to everything in front of him … reports of girls at risk going missing in Two … kids separated from their parents … Hydra testing Seven's boundaries and getting a nasty wake-up call from the lumberjacks there …

"J-Logan," Bruce said a bit more sharply. "You can't possibly be that blind to how that girl feels about you."

"What? It's not my job to give a damn about every little frikkin' thing. I can't make everyone happy either. That's not in my job description, an' it sure as hell ain't how I want to live," Logan growled out defensively.

"Bushido," Bruce said, and though his tone was clear and even, he looked angry.

"What about it?" Logan asked, glaring up at him, his face still downturned.

"I thought Bushido meant something to you," Bruce said. "But you're blasting your way through every one of the virtues it stands for." When Logan frowned and squared up to him, Bruce continued. "The first virtue of Bushido, James: Justice."

But at that, Logan's temper flared. "You would think it meant that. Ya lost it in translation. It's a little more specific than just justice. It's rectitude," Logan countered. "Deciding on a path and not wavering from it. To strike when to strike is right—"

"And to die when it's right to die," Bruce said, a bit more fire behind his eyes. "Do you think I don't know that you were planning to die when you went to Viper? That wasn't following the codes of Bushido. That was giving up — and it completely undermines every one of the other virtues that code stands for." He remained outwardly calm as he held Logan's gaze.

"What the hell do you know about it?" Logan said low, barely speaking over a whisper.

"Death for a cause unworthy of dying for is a dog's death. True courage is to live when it's right to live and to die only when it's right to die. You don't see what everyone around you sees, James. Yes, the districts are coming together, but it's because of who's at the helm. Do you really think that Maria Hill could get Four and Eleven to fight together without making it sound like an order? Or that Erik Lensherr could do anything but wage an endless war treating people like chess pieces rather than human beings if left unchecked?"

Logan opened his mouth to argue, and Bruce cut him off. "You don't see it because you still can't see your own worth. You're the one that ties in everyone's interests. You've been sure not to strike unless it was to stop a threat to the people at risk. People trust you, James. They like you, and they believe in you, if for no other reason than because you were the first to step up publicly and call out Thanos."

Logan dropped his gaze and shook his head. "You're blowin' all of it out of proportion," Logan said. "I haven't …" earned it. Don't deserve it, Logan thought to himself.

"Haven't what? Considered what losing you might do to the people around you? No, I don't suspect you have," Bruce said, his eyes flashing. "Do you think that Nick Fury would have picked you to replace him if you weren't worthy of the title? Or that Helena would have bent over backward like she did to keep you alive on the way back from that idiotic suicide mission?" Bruce took a breath, and Logan was obviously off-balance as he continued. "Make no mistake, James … had your friend slipped up and killed you … it would have destroyed her."

Logan closed his eyes on hearing that, because of course, Bruce was right. And he hadn't … considered how Kate would handle it. Or anyone else. It was amazingly hard to ignore that Bruce felt he had a personal stake for as heated as he was getting. But Logan had no response. Not yet.

For a long moment, the two of them simply stayed as they were, with Bruce towering over Logan and Logan staring at his hands like a kid that was getting set straight by an angry parent. As the two of them held position, the door to the study cracked open, and a moment later, Alfred stepped in with a tray in his hands. Both Logan and Bruce straightened up — years of proper training from well-meaning, wealthy parents kicking in automatically.

"So sorry to interrupt, Master Bruce, but Agent Quartermain mentioned that you might be low on coffee in here," Alfred said. "And I thought if the two of you were to continue chatting, a bit of civility might be just the thing to keep you both doing so well."

"Thank you, Alfred," both Logan and Bruce replied at the same time, which seemed to be the thing to break Bruce's hard and angry facade. The butler smiled and didn't wait for the invitation to refill Logan's cup, not giving him a choice in the matter, even as Bruce refused the same. The two of them waited until Alfred left before Bruce broke the silence.

"If all that wasn't enough for you to consider the consequences of your actions … it would have robbed me of the chance to thank you." Bruce's tone was much more subdued, even gentle now. "I can't begin to list the many things you've done to help my kids both in the arena and out. You went to lengths that no one in your position had ever considered before. And I know that cost you dearly, even if you haven't told me how bad it got for you in the Capitol." Bruce let out a sigh. "You've done incredible things for them. Both of them. Not the least of which has been helping Dick since he returned from Viper."

When Logan glanced up, Bruce leaned forward and spoke in a more earnest tone. "I know you talked to him, and I know you can help others that have been through the hideous mess that this war will leave behind, too" He gestured around them. "Even your father never took his generosity to this degree, James. You learned well from him — and have made such a difference already. I truly want to see what you can do when you have the weight of the world off your shoulders."

"You're exaggerating," Logan said, turning to the coffee as a means to escape the conversation. He was mid sip, allowing the richly-scented, burning hot liquid to help him refocus as Bruce took a seat again.

"No, if anything, I'm underselling it," Bruce said. "Consider the orphans you've opened your home to or the fact that you've got all of the leaders of our district looking to you for your opinion. Even if you don't want to consider SHIELD … consider us. We've thought highly of you your whole life, and you're only proving us right with the good you do."

"Can we please … just … not do this?" Logan said quietly.

"No," Bruce said. "It's long overdue."

Bruce kept talking, listing out the many good things that he'd seen Logan do — not just during the war but during his time in District Seven, taking care of anyone who needed it. Obviously, this was something Bruce had been building toward for a while, and he'd done his homework well. He knew everything. From the fact that he'd given his tesserae to a family that had lost their breadwinner to little things like helping Elsie Dee with her lost cat.

And somewhere in the middle of all of it, Logan found himself closing his eyes for longer moments and having serious trouble focusing. His hands slid from the top of the desk to the edge as he could feel his muscles relaxing, though that had him in an honest panic that he couldn't quite express.

Bruce looked perfectly calm as he crossed the span between them and pushed Logan back into his chair, all while Logan tried and failed to focus properly. "What'd you do?" Logan slurred out thickly, realizing that he'd been drugged. The coffee. He couldn't believe he'd thought he was safe from that garbage here.

"You're exhausted," Bruce said in a tone that meant he'd come to a decision and had decided this was the best way forward, even as Logan's eyes drifted shut for longer. "You're lashing out at people I know you don't want to lash out at." In a more gentle tone he added, "You're better than that."

When Logan tried to respond, to tell him that it wasn't his damn business … or that Skye wasn't his bodyguard … or any number of choice remarks Logan had on deck and ready to go, it barely came out as a soft grumble at the back of his throat, even as Bruce moved in. Whatever Alfred had used … it worked fast. When his eyes closed solidly, Logan could still hear as Alfred returned and immediately started to help Bruce.

Logan couldn't move, but he could feel them moving him. The sensation was enough like what had happened in the Capitol that Logan could feel the panic attack trying to let loose … but the drugs were stronger, and unconsciousness won out.


Agent Skye

Former Terrorist and Current Bodyguard to the Director


"If we will be quiet and ready enough, we shall find compensation in every disappointment." - Henry David Thoreau


Skye would have been lying through her teeth if she'd said that she wasn't upset at the end of that particular morning meeting. Things were going well with the war, and Logan had been easy to work with. Until he'd come back from that mission — but she couldn't fault him for it. Not when every time he had gotten anywhere near Viper, she'd managed to drug him.

She had just … she'd thought he'd lighten up a little with such a big win. And every bit of intel she'd given him on their progress since he'd woken up after that mission had been positive. All of it. Which only made it more confusing when he was acting so … defeated.

But that didn't quite fit either. Skye frowned to herself, ignoring the kids that were playing in the hall as she drew herself up. Her laptop was balanced on her knees, and she was sitting on her bed … trying to get past the shock as she pushed to do her job.

She'd loved being at the Howlett Estate.… The staff was warm and friendly; the place was bustling with life. But now, for the first time, she felt entirely isolated.

"Focus, Skye," she muttered to herself. "He's not … himself." But then, she thought, when has he had a chance to do that? As she always did when she had something on her mind, Skye started to dig, not only into the intel that Logan needed for the next moves but also into just … whatever she could hack through. Hydra's servers were simple enough for her at this point, and it was hardly a challenge when she was in a mood like this. Remembering that Hydra's leader had just drugged her all-time favorite director to the point that he was just ….

"Why are all the hot ones crazy?" Skye muttered to herself quietly, doubling down on her hack as she adjusted her earphones and turned up the music.

She was just getting into a good groove when she managed to patch the trouble spot in the feed from Three — just like Logan had asked. Kind of. Her smile once again fell as she thought of how that meeting had ended, and for what had to be the millionth time, Skye questioned if she'd been too unprofessional, if the little teasing about tackles was one step over the line … but … that didn't make sense when she thought of the way he'd been joking and smiling with her in Four.

No. It had to be the Viper thing.

Skye pulled her earbuds out and gathered up her intel. All of it was in order now. Every bit. As she made her way back to Logan's office, she started running through what she was going to say. Keep it professional. Keep it chill. Make him come to you if he's interested. Or … whatever.

She was holding her breath as she stopped in front of the study doors, and after a moment, she drew herself up — her best professional expression in place — and opened the door, only to gape at the scene in front of her.

Logan was dead to the world, and Bruce Wayne and Alfred were trying to pick him up, with Bruce at Logan's shoulders and Alfred clearly ready to pick him up at the knees. Which was a little too much for Skye to handle.

"What the hell are you doing?" Skye almost hissed, closing the study door behind her.

Both Bruce and Alfred looked up, then glanced at each other. "He needed rest," Bruce explained. "He hasn't been sleeping."

"What did you do?" she said, eyes wide as she set her laptop down on the desk, gesturing broadly at the scene in front of her.

"It's nothing terribly strong," Alfred promised. "And it's not habit-forming at all. I've used this very thing on Master Bruce—"

"You drugged him?" Skye said, looking more horrified as she stared between the two of them and began to pace, clearly upset. "What is wrong with you!"

"Only to get him to sleep," Bruce said. "He can't even begin to recover in this state."

Skye was ready to pull her hair out — or hit both of them, even if she knew they could both take her down. "No. You don't get it," she said in a long groan. "This? This whole … thing? This is what they did to him all the time in the Capitol. And I don't mean just Viper! The … SHIELD was drugging him for the people paying to spend the night with him. You don't think he went along with that peacefully, do you?"

Bruce and Alfred shared a look, and Alfred especially looked horrified. "That was not our intention, Miss Skye, I assure you," he said, even as Bruce looked more concentrated on getting Logan to his room.

"That was the whole reason I got put on his protective detail," Skye said, blushing with her anger. "Because people were drugging him all the time."

"Then what do you suggest?" Bruce said, still carrying Logan to his room and pausing at the door.

"I'd suggest not drugging him just because he won't listen to you," Skye said. "That's not a power move, that's just … crap."

Bruce gave her a dry look. "It's not because he won't listen to me; it's because he's gotten to a point that his mind and body need the rest, and he won't give himself the chance, even unconsciously. Or hadn't you noticed the only time he sleeps is when he's in medical under Dr. Simmons' care?"

Skye rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh yeah, I'm sure he'll see it that way when you explain to him what you two did."

"I was under the impression you wanted to take over," Bruce shot back with a bit of heat. "Since you're clearly the expert."

She uncrossed her arms, her hands in fists at her side. "Well that's just not … what?"

"You're his bodyguard," Bruce said.

"He took me off that detail," she shot back, following them up the stairs.

"In order to get himself killed," Bruce said, still in that infuriatingly even tone. "I would think your duty to protect him includes a duty to protect him from himself, so that order didn't count."

"Alright but … I'm very sure that won't fly with him when he wakes up ready to murder you."

"Let me stay with you while you wait," Alfred offered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Skye said, frowning as she kept pace with them down the long hall to the last room. "I ... wasn't going to-"

"Well, you're clearly concerned," Alfred said as Skye held the door to Logan's room open for them to carry him through. "And really, it was my concoction. I've used it so many times with Master Bruce, especially when he couldn't sleep after losing his wife. It seemed like the right solution to this problem as well…"

At that, Skye turned toward Bruce with one eyebrow raised for a long while. "I am so not surprised."

Bruce didn't say anything as they laid Logan on his bed. "You should stay, Agent Skye," he said at last as he headed out. "He may be self-destructive at the moment, but you're one of the few people he actually listens to. You might not realize it yet, but I've seen you with him often enough to know it's the truth."

Skye honestly didn't know what to say to that, so she was quiet as she watched the two of them take a moment to have what amounted to a nearly silent conversation that she was not privy to. "He doesn't really want me around right now, so I think you're a little off."

"He hasn't been himself," Bruce said. "Stay. Please."

"And do what?" Skye challenged. "I'm sure waking up to another Capitolite in his bedroom won't be a problem at all."

"I'll be here with you," Alfred promised gently. "You won't be alone in his bedroom, Miss Skye," he added, this time with an entirely different look. "At least, not when he first wakes up."

She turned his way with her chin tipped up. "You are a troublemaker."

"I've been saying that since I was young," Bruce said with a smirk as he headed out. "Good luck."

"Still not going to cover for you," Skye sang out as Bruce left. "And I need my computer. I have work to do, you know."

"I'll send it up to you."

"You know that's not a good look, right?" Skye called out a little louder. "The whole … running away thing? Not attractive."

Alfred chuckled at the expression on Bruce's face and then leaned over to rest a hand on Skye's arm. "I believe that's the wrong citizen of District Seven for you to be gauging for attractiveness," he teased.

"Hey, I'm just pointing out that he's running away like a scared little kid." Skye held both hands up at that.

"It was my idea," Alfred said.

"Do you know about what happened in the Capitol, Alfred?" Skye asked. "Or maybe I should ask if you knew what they were doing to him — them — the … the victors. I mean. Do you know what they were doing to the victors?"

Alfred watched her for a long moment before his expression shifted to something else entirely. "You really do care for him, don't you?" he asked gently.

She stammered for a moment and shored up what she could of her bravado. "I am not the one on trial here."

"I shouldn't think any of us are. However, I do think you should tell James how you feel," Alfred said, still with that same expression. "He needs to know he's not as alone as he believes himself to be. If you don't mind me saying, miss, something positive in his life would go a long way."

"I think you should … stop ... doing … that," Skye replied haltingly.

"Am I wrong?" Alfred asked with one eyebrow raised.

"I don't — that's not really a question I can … what … were we talking about?"

"Then I'm not wrong," Alfred said, sitting primly nearby so they could wait for Logan to wake up. "I do hope that Master Bruce thinks to bring me something to read when he fetches your laptop, since he seems to believe I should stay off my feet. Then perhaps you can tell me how it is that you became James' bodyguard."

Skye smirked at him for that. "It's kind of a mystery," she said. "I was a terrorist."

"Ah, say no more. A natural fit," Alfred chuckled.

Skye broke into a smile at that and couldn't help but laugh. "Do you ever stop?"

"Stop what, miss?" Alfred asked.

"What's the story with you and Mrs. Hopkins?" Skye asked, deciding that it was only fair. "You two making kissy faces over housework? That's the word in the halls."

"I would never be so undignified," Alfred said.

"As when you're making kissy faces?" Skye challenged. "Probably not."

Alfred chuckled and shook his head. "We're old friends. We've known each other for years. I was at her wedding… and, sadly, at her husband's funeral. He was a good friend of mine too."

"So … what are you waiting for?" Skye said. "Seems like a 'natural fit', after all."

Alfred watched her and then laughed and shook his head. "Maybe I require a good example to show me how it's done. I'm an old man; I haven't dated in decades."

"Yeah, I'm not a role model for that," she laughed. "I do not have a good track record with men. Besides I think you've got plenty of simpler cases to look at already. Pretty much anyone but Natasha and Clint or worse yet, Fitz and Simmons. They've been dancing around each other for way too long."

Alfred laughed and shook his head. "No. No one is a 'simple' case."

"Aww, come on. At least you're on the same level," she said. "And you've been close for a long time." She gestured to where Logan was laid out, not moving other than to breathe. "I'm not even kidding. I was homeless, living in my van when SHIELD picked me up. He … is a victor and the director of SHIELD. Not to mention this … whole … giant estate? Come on." By the time she'd finished, Skye was almost hugging herself, her shoulders shrugged up as she unconsciously made herself smaller.

"But that isn't how he met you," Alfred replied quietly. Skye gave him a dry look and Alfred tried to explain. "The two of you aren't as different as you think. Before he was Reaped, James was living in a tent in the woods — illegally, I might add."

Skye bit her lip, watching him for a long moment. "It's not the same, Alfred. It still doesn't change the other stuff. Just explains why he was so good in his Games."

He frowned and tried a different angle. "You know, Mrs. Hopkins and I never would have become friends if she hadn't taken the time to reach out to me," Alfred said. "I'd hate to see anyone make the egregious mistake of failing to act."

"It's still not the same, but I appreciate your effort to play matchmaker."

"Appreciation is hard to express, but actions speak volumes," Alfred said, leaning back with a smile that got wider when Bruce arrived with Skye's laptop and a book for Alfred in his hand. The two of them settled in when Bruce left, and Alfred wore a troublemaking, almost smug smirk Skye's way the whole time he didn't read his book as they waited for Logan to rouse.


It was hours before Logan finally moved — and it was clear that the wakeup was a slow one — but once he seemed to be conscious enough, Alfred leaned forward, looking as sincere as Skye had ever seen him.

"Please, accept my deepest apologies," he said. "I had no idea you would react so badly… I've often helped Master Bruce to sleep when he was at his worst after losing his wife. I thought I could apply the same remedy here and convinced Master Bruce to let me try it. I had no idea the background you had with such an experience, or I promise you, we both would have found a different avenue to help you find some rest."

Logan was quiet for a long moment, but when he finally spoke, it was with a quiet rumble. "I didn't want any help."

"Neither did Master Bruce, often enough," Alfred said softly. "But I know that look, and I can't abide it on someone I care about. I was only trying to ease some of your suffering, and give you rest without dreams or memories to haunt you for a little while. It was often the case with Master Bruce that he woke up feeling better about the situation… or at least able to bear another day."

Logan frowned at the phrasing, but Skye noted that he didn't argue the point. "I'm fine."

"That's not at all true, but I can promise you I won't try that remedy again. Not with what Agent Skye explained to us about other instances you've been forced to endure."

Logan turned toward Skye, and she tried to hide her blush by turning to Alfred quickly to hit him hard in the arm. "Thanks for the bus, Pennyworth."

Alfred smiled briefly as he got to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I have to make kissy faces at Mrs. Hopkins over housework," he said, perfectly straight-faced. "I'll leave you two to your work."

Skye blushed harder as Alfred started to leave, but it was Logan that got him to pause. "You're gonna break Mr. Kenneth's heart the way you're goin'."

"I thought he wasn't interested in anyone after he lost his wife," Alfred said slowly.

Logan raised an eyebrow and tipped his chin down. "Then you haven't seen the way he looks after her. Which is a shock for how much you're in everyone's affairs."

Alfred shook his head to himself, though he looked more thoughtful and less troublemaking as he said his polite goodbyes and left the room.

"So," Skye said after a long moment as Logan slowly swung his legs over the bed and sat there for a while. This was not something she knew how to handle. And knowing that the staff and the competing rich guy across the way knew she liked Logan did not help matters. "I'm back on your protective detail." She cringed at her own words. That was dumb.

"Did you ever quit?" Logan asked as he rubbed his eyes with one hand and then peeked up at her with one eye closed.

"Well … you did tell me not to ... "

"When did that ever stop you?" Logan asked, then held out out a hand to keep her from speaking up. "I wasn't … that wasn't a jab. It's one of your better qualities." He let out a sigh that looked far wearier that he should have been capable of expressing. "I didn't mean what I said before. You can do whatever it is you'd like. Just came out more harsh than it should've. Pick your team or assignment or whatever, and it's yours."

"That sounds like favoritism, director," Skye replied with a little smirk.

Logan sighed again and ran his hand through his hair but clearly didn't have any way to argue the point, which only had Skye trying to repress the grin. But when he finally set his hand down again, he didn't even try to look up at her.

"Hey," Skye said, resting her hand on his arm, which at least got him to look up at her. He still had that … haunted, lonely expression. And that was not what Skye wanted to see. "I don't want to go with Coulson's team. Not all the time, anyhow."

"Then what the hell do you want?" Logan asked, still looking a little lost — but that seemed to be just the opening Skye was looking for.

Before she could censor herself, Skye leaned forward and stole a kiss that wasn't … entirely polite. Which was totally not what she thought she was going to do. For an instant, she was both mortified and thrilled with herself, but it was a little too late to unring that bell, especially considering how quickly it had happened.

She felt Logan's hand at her side, and before she could pull away, she realized he was kissing her back and pulling her closer. So naturally, she ran with it. When the kiss broke, she smiled broadly, especially since he wasn't pushing her away — even if she'd pushed him flat. Which was when it hit her that this might not be the best idea, considering that she knew what kind of crap he'd been through in the Capitol. But before she had the mind to back away, he had one hand tangled up in her hair as they stared at each other. And Skye found herself in a situation she honestly hadn't prepared for.

"Are you going to freak out on me because I'm from the Capitol?" Skye asked quietly, though he was close enough she could feel his breath.

"No."

"Good," she said with a grin, before they picked up where they left off.