"In time, In Tense Part 1 Chapter 1"

You are asking yourself, "Self, can a crossover between TBAA and an X-man be done? With Logan? Hmmm..." Angels and berserkers--whatta combo. This takes place in the real world which is an alternate reality to Logan's world (aka Wolverine as a mutant.) No adamantium here. No claws. But does that make our boy any less Logan--any less angsty? I don't think so.

There will be cameos of other X-men. No pairs as such. Also, since I wrote this before Marvel created the whole Logan background story, this adds to the AU.

Disclaimer: Martha Williamson owns hers, Stan Lee owns his, Methuselah concept is mine. No money here, baby.

In Time, In Tense

Chapter One

Andrew and Monica sat in an old red convertible watching people go by. They were waiting for Adam who had news on their latest assignment.

The tall blonde angel grinned at his friend and asked, "Where did Tess say she would be today?"

"She's with the choirmaster. Something about a special request."

"And she let you use the car?"

"Andrew!" The petite auburn-haired angel elbowed him in the side.

Their attention was diverted by the sound of a loud Harley pulling into the parking lot of Phil's Bar and Grill. Monica watched with interest as a stocky male about her height got off the bike, stashed his helmet and stalked inside the bar. She turned to her friend.

"What an interesting human. He seems to burst with energy, even his hair." She giggled.

Andrew smiled back. "That is Logan, Angel-girl."

"Logan. What a nice Irish-sounding name. He looks like a man with a story to tell."

From next to her a voice replied, "If you only knew the half of it."

The two angels greeted their gray-eyed friend.

"Adam! Is he our assignment?"

"Well, yes and yes."

Monica looked puzzled. "I don't follow."

"Have you heard of the 'special ones'?" This from Andrew.

"Aren't all humans special?"

"Yes, but there are a rare few that...require more time that others."

Adam spoke. "Did you ever meet Methuselah?"

"Oh, yes! What a lovely man. He liked my singing but Tess says he's tone deaf."

The two angels of death hid their grins.

"O-o-o-o-h-kay," continued Adam. "Well, one of old M's genetic traits was longevity-"

"-Hence the term 'Old as Methuselah'-" interjected Monica.

"-And it is a rare recessive gene."

"In today's population of billions, only four or five people could even carry the gene."

"And this Logan is one of those?"

"Yeah."

"How old is he, Adam?"

"Even he isn't sure. Life isn't easy for these few. There are several drawbacks to longevity. Outliving everyone you know-"

"But he looks so young."

"Part of the gene is God's built-in ability for the body to heal itself, on high speed. It slows the aging process in extremis."

"Does anyone know how old he is?"

"I don't know, Monica, but Andrew might."

They turned to look at the green-eyed angel who had the grace to look really uncomfortable.

"Logan has seen and done a lot. He had also been the subject of government testing."

"What have they done?" she quietly asked.

Andrew shook his head. "You don't want to know."

"Part of our job is to help undo some of that damage," stated Adam.

"So what do we do?"

"Help him remember."

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"In Time, In Tense Part 1 Chapter 2"

Chapter Two

Logan sat at the bar, nursing a lone beer. It had been a long day and he was focused inward on his thoughts. The bartender approached, disturbing his reverie.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Nah," Logan nodded toward the cue rack behind the bar. "Gimme a cue."

The barkeeper passed the stick saying "Five dollars an hour."

Slapping down a twenty, Logan growled "No problem."

"No problem."

Andrew and Monica observed in silence from a booth toward the back. They watched the man play for an hour or so. He won a few games and lost a few. Strangely enough, he refused to play any females. The current opponent was a big, burly biker and the game had just started.

Andrew tilted his head as if listening to an inaudible voice.

"Monica, I've got to take someone home. Talk to him. He needs to remember some things." He hugged her and said, "I'll meet you later."

"Okay, Andrew."

As the tall blonde angel left, he passed by the table, crossing next to Logan. Straightening, Logan saw Monica watching him from across the room.

'CRACK'-The big guy shot and a ball sank as the phone rang behind the bar.

Adam answered the phone and called out "Laurence? Is there a Laurence here?"

The big guy at the pool table turned. "What's up?"

"It's your wife. Her water just broke."

"Oh man! Sorry, dude. I gotta bail!"

Watching in stunned silence, Logan stood at the table until the door bounced closed behind the now departed Laurence.

"Hope everything goes all right for ya, bub."

At the bar, Adam handed Monica a cue and gestured toward the darkhaired man.

"Excuse me. May I join you and finish Laurence's game?"

Turning back, Logan appraised her sharply. "Do ya even know how ta play? I don't feel like coachin' no rookies!"

"I can play well-when I need to," replied the Irish angel, her brogue flared with a grin.

Logan made the 'it's-your-shot' gesture and Monica proceeded to clear the table. As the eight sank unto the side pocket, she held out her hand to Logan.

"Thank you for letting me play. My name is Monica."

"Logan."

"Are ya Irish, Mr. Logan?"

"Just Logan and not that I know of."

"Pity. You remind me of some lads I once knew."

"Well, I've got that kind of face," he grinned.

"Actually, ya don't. You are like no one I've ever met."

Logan paused a minute to think about it. Pointing to a booth, he asked, "Join me?"

"I'd love to."

Signaling Adam at the bar, the twosome sat down.

"I'll have a coffee-black-and the lady will have--mocha-latte, decaf if ya got it."

Nodding, Adam went to prepare the drinks.

Monica was amazed. "How did you know?"

Logan tapped the side of his nose.

"Oh my. What a neat gift to have."

His eyebrows went up. "Darlin', you have a unique way of seein' things."

"I suppose I do. That's what I inherited from my Father."

They paused as Adam returned with the coffees. Logan thanked him. Adam nodded and left winking at Monica before he turned away.

After an awkward pause Logan asked, "So, where'd your friend go?"

"He had some business to attend to. Family emergency."

"Don't know much about that. Well, my adopted family, yeah, but I don't remember my own folks."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Why? 'S'not yer fault." He seemed perplexed by her comment.

"But not being able to remember a mother's smile or a father's loving embrace-" she faded away seeing the look on his face.

Logan became very quiet, studying the rim of his coffee cup. When he spoke, he talked as if to himself but enough so Monica could hear him.

"I haven't really thought about my real folks in a long while." He shook his head. "One of the kids at the school, his parents came ta visit. Funny thing, I didn't think much about it, 'til now."

Monica listened until he finished speaking and the two sat quietly.

Adam came over again. "I'm getting ready to close up. Do either of you need to call for a ride?"

"Nah. I got my bike outside. What about you, darlin'?"

"Well, Andrew's not back yet."

"Can I give you a ride?"

As they exited, Monica replied, "That would be lovely."

"Where to?"

Closing her eyes for a moment, Monica gave him an address. Logan straddled the Harley and offered her the helmet. "Hop on. Wear this."

"What about you?"

"I got a hard head."

Monica pulled the helmet on and sat behind Logan. Starting the bike he yelled, "Hold on, darlin'!"

Pulling out onto the road, they sped toward Monica's destination. It was late Sunday night so there wasn't any traffic. Near the outskirts of town, they stopped at the last red light.

"You okay?!"

Monica nodded. Logan checked for cross traffic and pulled out as the light turned green. Out of nowhere came a black car, lights out, which struck the pair broadside. The two bodies flew through the air both landing with sickening thuds. The motorcycle lay smoldering, a twisted mass of metal and leather. Almost instantly two beings appeared. Adam was nearest Logan, concern written on his face. Further behind him, Henry knelt beside Monica, his face aghast. It wasn't often that angelic beings were traumatically hurt while in human form.

"She's unconscious right now but not for long. What is the word?"

"Not yet. Wait here with them. I need to find Andrew."

Nodding, Henry moved to where he could observe the injured pair. Adam had already gone.

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Constructive comments are welcome. Please, no rocks or flames. The Brotherhood is not welcome.