Diclaimer: I Don't own the movie X-men. I do love it! It got me
interested in X-men, though the Brotherhood is cooler.
Well, this is a lovely little fic I've been thinking about for a long time. Finally put on the comp.it should be on paper first, but who cares? Not me! Be nice please, this is my first X-men fic. Anything in * is thoughts. I'll tell you who they belong to.
Logan sniffed the air. Britain was a strange place, and London smelled heavily like smog and stuff. It was a heavy drizzle and Logan was very wet, sitting on his motorcycle. Motorcycles were not the best vehicles for London, since it rained a lot. But that was not what was bothering him. He should be gone by now, but as soon as he had gotten back to the Blackbird, he found his wallet missing. In the London alleys there was an abundance of thieving little pick pockets, but he never thought one would be good enough, or foolish enough to steal from him, of all people.
~Earlier that Day~
Yellow-green eyes watched Logan as he poked around the dank alley. They had watched his every move, the owner not moving a muscle. He was covered in shadow, but his figure was lanky and starved looking, much like a hungry, homeless puppy. Thoughts whirled through the mind of the small spy. *Well, another American. Must be here on some bloody gang business from New York or some blinkin' place like that. Real tough lookin'. He seems, well, different from the rest. Could probably catch any bloimy pickpocket that pickpocketed him.* The British pickpocket studied Logan for a moment and cocked his head to the side. *I think I'll troi.*
Logan stiffened when he smelled something that been bugging him for the last five minutes come closer. He whirled around, fist clenched and ready to pop his claws. There was nothing. He sniffed twice more, before returning to his prodding. The sent came closer and Logan kept it in check.
A truck went noisily by the alley, causing sound to bounce around and hurt Logan's ears and fill his nostrils with its fumes. The strange sent was gone when the smell of the truck lessened. The was a rustle behind some trashcans to his left. He slowly unsheathed the claws in his right hand and moved to the trashcans stealthily. He made swipe at them and scattered them down the alley. A cat screamed in protest and fright, arching its back and them walking away as if it had to regain some dignity.
Logan breathed a sigh of relief. He had really not felt like dealing with anyone from a past experience, especially one he didn't remember yet, or from another mutant group. After finishing up, he jumped on his motorcycle and roared away.
About 1 hour later is when he noticed his wallet was missing.
Logan had contacted the professor first, telling him some no good @#$& British pickpocket had stolen his wallet. That was a good excuse, but the professor didn't seem to believe him even though the professor was a telepath.
"No one could pick pocket from you Logan, you probably just dropped it." Logan mimicked Professor Xavier's voice sourly. The rain was making the smell worse and it bugged him. He was really to snap next time someone told him off.
He decided to start in the place that he started this morning.
Wait, that smell. That weird smell that he hadn't been able to place early. Logan went well above the sped limit to get to the alley, using smell to navigate. He arrived, not knowing what to expect but smelled the strange scent. He saw nothing at first, but sat there and watched and listened. Finally, he heard a distinctively British voice.
"Only bloody American dollars today. What am I bloody gonna do with that!? Hey, wots this?" There was the sound of someone shuffling through some bills and leather. Then a low whistle. "Who's this?! What a doll, too red headed for moi taste though." Logan blushed. Jean, the pickpocket was talking about Jean. It was his wallet, for sure. He crept along the alley as stealthily as he could manage. The pickpocket kept talking to himself about the items in Logan's wallet, some souvenirs from him memories that fit in his wallet and more pictures of Jean and some other pretty women, mostly of Jean though. Finally Logan got close enough to see the silhouette cast by the faint moonlight of the thief. Lank, ragged, not starved, but hungry, and (Logan shook his head to make sure he wasn't hallucinating) what looked like a.tail? That couldn't be right. Suddenly, the thief looked up at him. Car lights shown on his face and Logan started in surprise. The boy's face was normal looking except the eyes, which were yellow-green and slitted themselves when the light shown in them. The thief was a mutant! (Duh,)
It all happened in a split second. The mutant dropped the wallet and ran to the opposite wall and ran up it a few steps before flipping backwards. Logan, who had been to Japan before, had seen this trick and reached out and grabbed the mutant's foot. The mutant cried out in pain and fell on the hard cement.
"Take your damn wallet and leave me bloody alone!"
Logan looked down at the boy and frowned. There was something about this kid. The pickpocket glared at him a seconded and rubbed his leg, and then it all happened too fast for him again. The kid spun on one of his hands and knocked Logan's feet right out from under him. Logan roared and the wind left him when he hit the ground. He lay gasping for a second before he got up to his elbows. He saw the bottom of a shoe and was down again. Quick footsteps told Logan that he had retreated. Logan propped himself up on his elbows again, eyeing the pickpocket as he ran. Logan got to his feet and sprinted down the alley after him. It would be difficult tracking him in the dark for an ordinary person, but not for Logan. He could follow the scent. He could follow it if he moved fast enough, that is.
It took only a second more for Logan's broken nose to heal, and then he burst out into the street and saw, father ahead, the boy sprinting away as fast as he could go, which was pretty dang fast. Logan hopped onto his motorcycle and roared off after the running boy.
The boy looked over his shoulder and put on an extra burst of speed when he saw the American racing after him on a motorcycle. *Doesn't this guy ever bloody give up?* he thought desperately. Dodging the late-nighters, he turned sharply into a dark alley, but didn't see where he was going so he smacked right into the person that could only make the situation worse.
The crafty pickpocket rubbed his head with his clawed hand and looked to see who or what he ran into, and when he saw, the color drained from his already palish face.
"Well, well, well, look wot the cat dragged in."
The pickpocket groaned and tried to scamper back on his hands but was grabbed by the front of his shirt and dragged into the darkness.
"Ouch, leggo!"
"Grab 'im!"
"Bloody!"
"Ouch! Thot's my leg!"
"Grab him! I got him!"
"No you don't! That's me! I got him!"
"Ouch! You idiots! Get him! Were'd 'e go?"
"Got 'im boss!"
"My arm!"
"There goes the bugger! After him!"
The pickpocket darted out of the shadows and right in front of Logan motorcycle. Logan screeched to a stop and stared at train of thugs close on his heels.
"Everybody seems to want that guy tonight, must be annoying." He turned his motorcycle and headed after them.
The chase was long and hard, mostly because the pickpocket seemed to know the London streets like the back of his hand, and he could easily jump or scale high walls, fences of hedges. Logan tore up a few nice yards, but after a while, he had to leave his bike, as much as it grieved him.
The case finally came to an end when the pickpocket was jumped from the side and tackled to the ground. By that time, Logan was farther behind than ever and it was already unable to get any darker, just lighter. When he rounded the corner the group of thugs had surrounded the pickpocket and where playing with him, laughing and kicking and pushing around. The kid was helpless, the only thing he could do was feebly try and fight back, which only made it more merrier for the gang. Their laughter rang around the alley and the look on the kids face enraged Logan. The kid looked at him and gave him a look that clearly said, 'please, their laughter is not what I want to hear last.'
Logan charged, claws drawn and tackled the closest one and quickly took him out of the fight. The rest charged as one, but were no match for Logan and after seconds the rest that could still stand were helping their limping buddies away down the alley.
The pickpocket was up against the wall, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Never seen anyone else like you kid?"
The pickpocket shook his head, his mouth open but seemed not to be able to make any sounds.
"You got a name kid?"
The pickpocket nodded mutely.
Logan looked at him expectantly. "Well.? Can you talk kid?"
The mutant nodded again, but didn't say anything.
"Well, can you tell me you name?"
He looked at him confused for a second, then seemed to understand. "Oh, it's Jack. M'name's Jack."
Lovely bit of a story there for you! more to come. Sorry if I didn't get the London streets right, I've never been there.I want to go sometime though. It sounds very nice. All that rain and cloudy days and and and..aaaaaaaah. anyway, that was Jack, the lovely character from my mind. He's a bit shady right now, but it's really exciting and no, he's not related to Logan or has anything to do with his past and junk like that. you'd be surprised about how many daughter's and relatives Logan has in all the Role Plays that I've been in. it's insane!
Well, this is a lovely little fic I've been thinking about for a long time. Finally put on the comp.it should be on paper first, but who cares? Not me! Be nice please, this is my first X-men fic. Anything in * is thoughts. I'll tell you who they belong to.
Logan sniffed the air. Britain was a strange place, and London smelled heavily like smog and stuff. It was a heavy drizzle and Logan was very wet, sitting on his motorcycle. Motorcycles were not the best vehicles for London, since it rained a lot. But that was not what was bothering him. He should be gone by now, but as soon as he had gotten back to the Blackbird, he found his wallet missing. In the London alleys there was an abundance of thieving little pick pockets, but he never thought one would be good enough, or foolish enough to steal from him, of all people.
~Earlier that Day~
Yellow-green eyes watched Logan as he poked around the dank alley. They had watched his every move, the owner not moving a muscle. He was covered in shadow, but his figure was lanky and starved looking, much like a hungry, homeless puppy. Thoughts whirled through the mind of the small spy. *Well, another American. Must be here on some bloody gang business from New York or some blinkin' place like that. Real tough lookin'. He seems, well, different from the rest. Could probably catch any bloimy pickpocket that pickpocketed him.* The British pickpocket studied Logan for a moment and cocked his head to the side. *I think I'll troi.*
Logan stiffened when he smelled something that been bugging him for the last five minutes come closer. He whirled around, fist clenched and ready to pop his claws. There was nothing. He sniffed twice more, before returning to his prodding. The sent came closer and Logan kept it in check.
A truck went noisily by the alley, causing sound to bounce around and hurt Logan's ears and fill his nostrils with its fumes. The strange sent was gone when the smell of the truck lessened. The was a rustle behind some trashcans to his left. He slowly unsheathed the claws in his right hand and moved to the trashcans stealthily. He made swipe at them and scattered them down the alley. A cat screamed in protest and fright, arching its back and them walking away as if it had to regain some dignity.
Logan breathed a sigh of relief. He had really not felt like dealing with anyone from a past experience, especially one he didn't remember yet, or from another mutant group. After finishing up, he jumped on his motorcycle and roared away.
About 1 hour later is when he noticed his wallet was missing.
Logan had contacted the professor first, telling him some no good @#$& British pickpocket had stolen his wallet. That was a good excuse, but the professor didn't seem to believe him even though the professor was a telepath.
"No one could pick pocket from you Logan, you probably just dropped it." Logan mimicked Professor Xavier's voice sourly. The rain was making the smell worse and it bugged him. He was really to snap next time someone told him off.
He decided to start in the place that he started this morning.
Wait, that smell. That weird smell that he hadn't been able to place early. Logan went well above the sped limit to get to the alley, using smell to navigate. He arrived, not knowing what to expect but smelled the strange scent. He saw nothing at first, but sat there and watched and listened. Finally, he heard a distinctively British voice.
"Only bloody American dollars today. What am I bloody gonna do with that!? Hey, wots this?" There was the sound of someone shuffling through some bills and leather. Then a low whistle. "Who's this?! What a doll, too red headed for moi taste though." Logan blushed. Jean, the pickpocket was talking about Jean. It was his wallet, for sure. He crept along the alley as stealthily as he could manage. The pickpocket kept talking to himself about the items in Logan's wallet, some souvenirs from him memories that fit in his wallet and more pictures of Jean and some other pretty women, mostly of Jean though. Finally Logan got close enough to see the silhouette cast by the faint moonlight of the thief. Lank, ragged, not starved, but hungry, and (Logan shook his head to make sure he wasn't hallucinating) what looked like a.tail? That couldn't be right. Suddenly, the thief looked up at him. Car lights shown on his face and Logan started in surprise. The boy's face was normal looking except the eyes, which were yellow-green and slitted themselves when the light shown in them. The thief was a mutant! (Duh,)
It all happened in a split second. The mutant dropped the wallet and ran to the opposite wall and ran up it a few steps before flipping backwards. Logan, who had been to Japan before, had seen this trick and reached out and grabbed the mutant's foot. The mutant cried out in pain and fell on the hard cement.
"Take your damn wallet and leave me bloody alone!"
Logan looked down at the boy and frowned. There was something about this kid. The pickpocket glared at him a seconded and rubbed his leg, and then it all happened too fast for him again. The kid spun on one of his hands and knocked Logan's feet right out from under him. Logan roared and the wind left him when he hit the ground. He lay gasping for a second before he got up to his elbows. He saw the bottom of a shoe and was down again. Quick footsteps told Logan that he had retreated. Logan propped himself up on his elbows again, eyeing the pickpocket as he ran. Logan got to his feet and sprinted down the alley after him. It would be difficult tracking him in the dark for an ordinary person, but not for Logan. He could follow the scent. He could follow it if he moved fast enough, that is.
It took only a second more for Logan's broken nose to heal, and then he burst out into the street and saw, father ahead, the boy sprinting away as fast as he could go, which was pretty dang fast. Logan hopped onto his motorcycle and roared off after the running boy.
The boy looked over his shoulder and put on an extra burst of speed when he saw the American racing after him on a motorcycle. *Doesn't this guy ever bloody give up?* he thought desperately. Dodging the late-nighters, he turned sharply into a dark alley, but didn't see where he was going so he smacked right into the person that could only make the situation worse.
The crafty pickpocket rubbed his head with his clawed hand and looked to see who or what he ran into, and when he saw, the color drained from his already palish face.
"Well, well, well, look wot the cat dragged in."
The pickpocket groaned and tried to scamper back on his hands but was grabbed by the front of his shirt and dragged into the darkness.
"Ouch, leggo!"
"Grab 'im!"
"Bloody!"
"Ouch! Thot's my leg!"
"Grab him! I got him!"
"No you don't! That's me! I got him!"
"Ouch! You idiots! Get him! Were'd 'e go?"
"Got 'im boss!"
"My arm!"
"There goes the bugger! After him!"
The pickpocket darted out of the shadows and right in front of Logan motorcycle. Logan screeched to a stop and stared at train of thugs close on his heels.
"Everybody seems to want that guy tonight, must be annoying." He turned his motorcycle and headed after them.
The chase was long and hard, mostly because the pickpocket seemed to know the London streets like the back of his hand, and he could easily jump or scale high walls, fences of hedges. Logan tore up a few nice yards, but after a while, he had to leave his bike, as much as it grieved him.
The case finally came to an end when the pickpocket was jumped from the side and tackled to the ground. By that time, Logan was farther behind than ever and it was already unable to get any darker, just lighter. When he rounded the corner the group of thugs had surrounded the pickpocket and where playing with him, laughing and kicking and pushing around. The kid was helpless, the only thing he could do was feebly try and fight back, which only made it more merrier for the gang. Their laughter rang around the alley and the look on the kids face enraged Logan. The kid looked at him and gave him a look that clearly said, 'please, their laughter is not what I want to hear last.'
Logan charged, claws drawn and tackled the closest one and quickly took him out of the fight. The rest charged as one, but were no match for Logan and after seconds the rest that could still stand were helping their limping buddies away down the alley.
The pickpocket was up against the wall, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Never seen anyone else like you kid?"
The pickpocket shook his head, his mouth open but seemed not to be able to make any sounds.
"You got a name kid?"
The pickpocket nodded mutely.
Logan looked at him expectantly. "Well.? Can you talk kid?"
The mutant nodded again, but didn't say anything.
"Well, can you tell me you name?"
He looked at him confused for a second, then seemed to understand. "Oh, it's Jack. M'name's Jack."
Lovely bit of a story there for you! more to come. Sorry if I didn't get the London streets right, I've never been there.I want to go sometime though. It sounds very nice. All that rain and cloudy days and and and..aaaaaaaah. anyway, that was Jack, the lovely character from my mind. He's a bit shady right now, but it's really exciting and no, he's not related to Logan or has anything to do with his past and junk like that. you'd be surprised about how many daughter's and relatives Logan has in all the Role Plays that I've been in. it's insane!