Disclaimer: A whole host of new characters are mine. Please don't use them. Of course, the X-Men and other such characters involved in the comic, books and the movie belong to Marvel, and new ones are mine. Also the plot is my own.

Throughout story:

" " = Speech

' ' = Thoughts

^ ^ = Telepath

Jenny: Yes, that line is very important.. because something bad is going to happen. But as for deaths.. I don't know.. I need to have someone die to make it believer, like in WOTW.. but it needs to be a carefully thought out death and a specialized character that suits the ending scene. I really need to think on this..

But if anyone has any idea's on who could die and a logical buildup.. please email me (not in a review, too public) I will certainly consider all options and weave it into my story. I have an idea at the moment.. but it needs strengthening.. but anyway, email me, let's see what you ideas are.

Ironic: Bwahaha, turbo writer, that's me! You better get used to it! When I'm on a roll, I ROLL baby! Yeah!! XD

Blix: Just you wait, the bar scene is going to develop.. Poor Logan can't go anywhere and get away safe. Too reckless.

Chapter 33

            Michael had indeed been correct about the later activities of the day. As evening came a steadily glow cast upon the village, and as night beckoned, people were drawn into the pub to begin their social hours before bedtime. The pub door creaked quietly as a small group entered, being greeted loudly by a cheery Michael, "Hey! Come on o'er here! Look at 'im then.. eh?"

Around the front of the bar stood a few people, two men and a woman had now joined Michael and Logan. All three were in their middle age stages of life, around the age of Michael.

One of the men spoke, looking to Michael, then to Logan, "What..?"

Michael groaned, slapping Logan on the shoulder, "Speak to 'em lad."

Logan glanced to Michael before to the three of Michael's friends, "Uh.. Hey.."

"See!"

The woman now grinned, "Hey! He's American!"

Michael smiled, thumbing Logan, "Naw Cassie.. he's Canadian."

Cassie nodded slowly, "Ooh.. but even so, a traveller 'e is."

The man who first spoke now outstretched his hand, "Peter." His face was a little wearied from age, but his eyes still held a youthful sparkle. His hair was short to his crown, blonde.

Logan looked at his hand momentarily before slipping in his right hand, "Logan.." He said gruffly.

Peter blinked, mildly removing his hand, "Woah.. you got some meat on yer.. strong handshake."

"Bet you'd do some blokes justice in a brawl eh?" Said the second man knowingly, outstretching his hand also, "Andy." He had a rougher look about him.. and from the texture of his hand he appeared to be a hard graft worker. His brown hair was a little longer than Peter's, and stuck about his head in different directions. A dishevelled look, he appeared as though he had just come in from work.. which was likely.

Logan now turned to the only female of the group, his expression naturally more gentle, "Hey.." He said softly.

Cassie smiled; her green eyes sparkling, strands of blond hanging idly over her gaze, "Hey Logan."

Logan leant back to rest on the bartop. He just smirked slyly at her… not even needing to turn on the charm he naturally bled with.

Peter anxiously broke the silent flirtation with a clear of his throat, "So.. Logan?"

Logan's ears tuned in his way, but his eyes never moved from Cassie, "Mm?"

"Want another pint?"

Logan now looked to Peter, blank for a moment, then remembering what pint actually meant here, and he nodded, "Alright.."

Logan accepted his beer and raised it to the four surrounding him in a thankful manner before he took a hefty drink.

            A little later, the TV on the wall behind the bar was showing football footage, British kind. Logan had never been one for sport, but as he watched he found himself becoming slowly engaged and blocking off the surrounding conversation.

The picture suddenly changed into a man dressed smartly behind a glass desk. He held papers in his hands and watched the camera seriously. Across the bottom of the screen the headline, 'New Terrorism?'

The pub had fallen quiet to the newsreader; Michael turned it up so the customers could hear. The voice now sounded clearly across the pub, all eyes on the screen as they waited for the reason for abrupt switch from football to live news coverage.

"There has been an abrupt attack in the city of London. A fight broke out between one woman and a group of people – yet unknown – in central London. The Government has made a broadcast for the first time ever about this attack, announcing it as harrowing and unnatural. Police are arriving on the scene now for arrests of dramatic event. A passing camera crew is now on the scene. The attacks were distressful – if you have a nervous disposition, look away now."

Of course, nobody looked away; everyone was glued to the screen.

The man disappeared as a scene from a busy street appeared. The camera was being jostled and dragged hectically through crowds of passer-by's to try and film the arrests of the people. The camera struggled for a few seconds before the cameraman stumbled and the camera made a dramatic dip before being lifted upon the woman. The woman had her hands behind her back, forced there roughly by a police officer. The woman was screaming, absolutely enraged by the happenings, "No! You don't understand!" She cried, thrusting, trying to escape his grip; not wanting to be placed in the police van.

Logan was just about to take a sip from his beer when he froze, staring at the television. His mouth hung open, partly because he was just about to take a sip, and partly of shock.

The camera was extremely close and you could see the woman's full upper torso. She was still shoving away advancing police officers, trying to shake off the one holding her handcuffs. She was extremely odd; she stood out from the crowd. For one, her hair was grey. Not old aged grey, for her features were fair and skin smooth. It was a shining grey, shimmering. Silver. It hung round her shoulders, radiating madly from the reflection of the camera flashes of journalists who threw themselves over each other, desperate to get shots.

Logan's mouth still hung open, staring at this woman. Yes.. she stood out from the people.. and yes, she did appear to be a mutant because her odd hair.. But there was something about her. It wasn't an attraction or a lust felt longing. No.. it was more than that. He knew her..

No, he didn't know her.. but he knew of her. He'd seen her before.. somewhere..

Still the woman screamed, kicking away advancing police officers. She was extremely violent, and the sharp kicks had caused one policeman's face to be mauled from the heeled boots. Blood poured across the officer's face as he tried to subdue the roaring woman, "I need to see him! I need to find him! You don't understand!" Her calls were now more softer, not screams, just desperation, "Somebody stop them! They're going to take me – " A hand now grabbed round her mouth.

Logan just stared.. frozen to the spot.

No! Get off her!

He had no idea why he felt so defensive.

The owner of the hand then made a bloodcurdling scream as the woman made a vicious snap at his hand, drawing blood rapidly. As her lips were free she began to call into the current camera, lips wet and reddened from the victims blood, "You know who you are! I need to find you, L –"

As surrounding officers then piled on the woman, she made an agonizing scream since a man from behind grabbed her by the neck and pointed something at her neck. Her antics were slowed and her need for escape had calmed.. expression falling serene as she was shoved roughly away. But with one last burst of life she kicked at the camera in the struggle, and the image froze on the screen for a few seconds, before it turned black

Logan made a quiet gasp. As the picture was froze he saw the logo and name on the van door.. it wasn't a police van.. the logo was familiar.. He'd seen that before..

The man at the news desk returned, "There is hidden information yet to be unveiled from the Government about this extraordinary attack on this woman who responded in a way never thought possible. No evidence supports her speedy abilities. We shall be bringing updates throughout the evening as soon as we find out. From me, Trevor McDonald. Good night."

The football footage then arrived back on the screen.. and Logan turned his head slowly to the four.

"Blimey." Commented Michael calmly.

Logan looked at the screen wistfully before down to the bartop. Who was she? And why did he respond like this?

Peter shook his head, "I wonder what the hell has happened? What's she done that's so out of place?"

"Probably can fly or something." Said Andy with a laugh, he was joking. But when he said it, Logan could feel sardonic laughter inside from the possible irony of the statement..

            Later that evening the familiar noise from the pub door sounded as two companions entered. They came up to the bar and stood on the other side of Logan's new friends. Michael watched them suspiciously as he delivered them a requested drink, "No brawlin' in 'ere tonight Johnny. Y' 'ear me? Boss almost went an sacked me when you ruined the bar last time."

The man named Johnny smirked wryly at Michael, "Michael! Now why would I go and do that? Eh?" He said in a drawn out sentence, hardly believable. He had a nasty glint in his eyes, he was a shorter man than average, but he had thick limbs of muscle and an extremely proud expression as he paraded his natural bulges through his tight black jumper.

Logan looked down across to this man with a snort of dislike, missed however by Johnny. Logan turned to the bar, requesting for another pint, "Another beer, Mike.. and one o' y' best cigars." He said in his rough voice.

Michael nodded and lifted Logan a fresh glass to refill, slipping Logan a cigar, which Peter offered to pay for, and did so.

"Aah.. we got a Yankee in 'ere.."

Logan's eyes slowly lifted to the direction of the voice.

It was Johnny.

Logan pulled his beer to him, "What about it?" He said in a low voice.. the voice that had a dangerous wit in it whilst it remained threatening. Logan lifted the cigar to his lips whilst talking, lighting it.

Johnny stepped round from the group, stepping slowly towards Logan, "Nowt.." He said mischievously, now eyeing at Logan's physique. He then outstretched his hand.

Logan looked at it hesitantly before he gave his hand into Johnny's.

"Johnny." Said the man.

Logan nodded slowly, "Logan.."

Johnny then dragged Logan over, his strong grip actually managing to pull Logan towards him, "You got some muscle on yeh.." He then lifted his arm so their arms were bent, "You ever do any arm wrestling?"

Logan now smirked, momentarily forgetting the images on the TV, "A few times, but it's a soft sport."

"Backing out of a challenge?" Said Johnny softly, one brow lifting devilishly.

Logan now leant forward, "Of course not." He drew on his cigar slowly, blowing the output of smoke into Johnny's face.

"Very well.." Said Johnny, eyes glaring at the smoke, he then turned, whipping a chair round to his destined table. He dropped down, placing his elbow upon the smooth oak top, "Ready.."

"Uh Logan.. he's a strong guy.. don't go too far.." Said Michael warningly. Watching Logan; scared for his new friends safety.

Logan turned his head to Michael with a smirk, "Right.."

Hah..

Logan then dropped down and placed his arm on the table with Johnny's.

Peter and Andy were gearing up for a good challenge, cheering Logan on, whilst Cassie hovered nervously at the bar, not a particular fan of such fights.

Logan's brow slanted together as his typical frown; a determined expression overcame his face. Johnny's was the same, his hand gripping at Logan's tightly. He was preparing himself whilst Logan sat calmly, poised and ready.

A few heads had turned in the bar to witness the arm wrestle between the Canadian and the Yorkshire man.

Peter raised an arm, "Ready! Three.. two.. one.. GO!"

Determined was strangling at Johnny's features, his eyes narrowed as aggression pounded into his muscles and into his grip. Logan had a terrific smirk on his face. He put in absolutely no effort, he just held his hand there whilst Johnny was slipping off his seat in trying to even budge Logan's arm from an upright position.

"Put some effort in Johnny!" Roared his companion that had remained to lurking in the shadows.

Johnny's other hand was now gripping the table, trying to force the hunk of adamantium down. He paused from his strains, panting heavily. The pub was now roaring their approval to Johnny being beaten..

Johnny growled under his breath.. he couldn't lose.. no way.. He then muttered softly, trying to focus himself. It was silent to the normal ears, but Logan picked up every word.

"God.. pull y'self together Johnny.. you can beat this piece of Canadian shit. No bloke comes wandering in and nicking yer spot." Johnny, with his built up stamina, then tried to ram Logan's hand down. There was a mere flinch, since Logan's muscles were relaxed.

Johnny groaned, cursing aloud, "Move! You bleedin' piece of shit!"

Logan's eyes abruptly narrow and eyebrows dipped even more so, "Move my arm?" He growled.

Johnny had meant move as in to let him win.. but Logan agreed to his vocal wishes, but these weren't what Johnny had had in mind. Logan then tensed his muscles with a built up anger from the swearing he received from Johnny.. it was powerful. The men's palms sweated for a second longer. Before Logan slammed down his fist with a furious roar, "RAAAAAARGH!" Johnny's arm buckled weakly and fell limply beneath the tremendous pressure. Johnny cried out in shock for a split second whilst his hand was crashed down. Logan's roar continued and drowned out the cries of pain as Logan's fist hurtled down through the table and these fists together smashed through and snapped the sturdy oak table. The roar of noise from Wolverine and the explosion of splintering wood drowned out the gasps around the pub. Johnny was dragged down off his chair in pain, falling on the floor and screaming heartedly. His knuckle had been reduced to a bloody mass.

Logan sat up calmly off his chair and stepped over the table, which was now on the floor, splintered and snapped, legs scattered across the floor, dust flying and splinters lingering on the carpet.

Logan turned slowly, glaring down upon the man on the floor, "I won." He then said slowly, eyes narrowed and smirk still visible as he took a small draw on his still burning cigar, a calm hand running idly through his mane of hair.

"Yer 'urt Johnny!" A voice then growled, and Logan turned to see a fist aiming straight his way, he didn't even have time to blink as the fist collided with his cheek.

***

LMAO! "I won!" Hahaha! Go on Logan! You showed him! And who's this piece of shit punching you? LET 'IM HAVE IT!! XD

(www.freewebs.com/thoh)