Summery: Sequel to Deal with the Devil, Logan makes a business arraignment.
Disclaimer: Marvel owns them, I'm just borrowing them.
Notes: You probably want to read Deal with the Devil first to figure out what is going on.
Dance With the Devil
Logan scanned the Old Man's office, it was tastefully decorated with wood paneling and leather bound books that lined the bookcase behind him; an oversize oak desk separated him from Logan. He sat there for an hour listening to him blather on about his dream. Logan was polite enough to listen but he wasn't sure if he believed that mutants and humans would ever be able to live together. Besides, he knew why he was really there; the Old Man was just to idealistic to say it out loud. Logan's job was to do the dirty work on this little crew. He was use to the job; it had been the only job he had ever remembered doing. The work suited him, he didn't really love it but somebody had to do it. Finally the polite conversation ended and a black woman with platinum hair that spilled down her back came to collect him.
"This is Ms. Ororo Munroe she will show you around," the Old Man smiled, wheeled back from the desk and turned to the tall window. "Ororo give him the complete tour."
"Of course Charles, if you will follow me." Logan didn't mind the idea of following the chocolate skinned exotic. It quickly became obvious that that follow meant walk beside her, Logan was disappointed. She led him through a maze of rooms labeling each one and then took him outside to go over the grounds. She spoke a practiced English with a very proper accent. His trained ear told him that she had learned her English from an Englishmen. The accent wasn't pronounced enough for her to have lived in England; perhaps she had learned it at a convent school. He didn't really care about her explanations for rooms. As long as he could find the kitchen, the TV, the gym, the front door, his room and maybe hers. Still the place was more posh then where his last crew had been based. The last time he had such lush accommodation was the time he was lent to England to protect a little old lady; he spent a week talking about horse racing and playing poker, the Queen Mother could pick a winner and played a mean game of cards. Logan wondered when they would get to "the complete tour," the rose garden wasn't very interesting.
He followed her into the house and she led him to a paneled wall in the library, the dimensions of the room were too small compared to the office next door, he figured three feet was missing. The women watched him out of the corner of her eye as she revealed a secret elevator. Logan's interest in the tour went up a notch; finally it was getting interesting. A short ride down and he stood in the basement with the women; her explanation of these rooms was much more detailed and interesting. The medical facilities were on par with any hospital emergency room, the jet would give any flyboy a hard-on, and something called the Danger Room sounded like it might be fun. There was a lot more going on with these people then he expected.
That evening he laid on his bed going over the speech Xavier had given him. He hadn't expected the X men to be so high tech; it had surprised him. He had read the intelligence on them and realized the old joke about intelligence and oxymoron's. Logan decided that he needed to explore the house on his own, he wanted to find out more about the inhabitance, and especially some of the lovely women he had met early. He wandered down to the first floor and into a sitting room with a cushioned seat set into a bay window. A cluster of photos on an ornate cabinet caught his attention and out of a mixture of curiosity and boredom wandered over to examine them. Some featured the Old Man, but most were action shots of a mismatched group of kids. He gave them no more then a quick examination. One in particular caught his eye, a posed photo of five kids and the Old Man. Logan concentrated on it, deep in his mind he knew that the picture was familiar. He had seen it before; he cursed his poor memory.
Logan decided that it was time to get out of the mansion. Xavier had recommended a couple of bars to him. One on the edge of town if he was looking for a fight, Logan was surprised the Old Man knew such places existed. The other was more downtown and good for a quite drink. All the Professor had asked was not to get the police involved.
The place had been easy to find in a sleepy nieghbourhood in town. It was dimly lit, the perfect mood for drinking and thinking. Logan claimed an empty booth and to himself as the song on the jukebox changed to a three- year-old rock hit that nobody could really remember. The moment he settled in a waitress in a tight sweater came to take his order.
A few minutes later a beer appeared in front of him. He took a long drink, he hated American piss and debated going back to Canada based on the alcohol content of the beer. The photo still bothered him. There was something important about it, he was better with scents then faces. The pub began to fill up and he got jealous looks for his booth that he ignored.
He concentrated on the condensation rings that marred the table, oblivious to the crowd that formed in the bar. A familiar scent settled into the seat across from him and memories came flooding back to him. It was the crazy bitch with the picture, Destiny.
"What the hell do you want?" he looked up at her. She was older, almost old enough of be a grandmother. He didn't realize that so much time had passed since he had first met her, when you don't grow old you don't notice stuff like time.
"A beer," Logan smiled at that.
"Your too young to drink," she had gained an air of elegance and shed her girlish innocents. He got the waitresses attention; they sat there in silence and waited for her beer. Logan wandered what was with her and silence. The beer came and the quite continued and yet managed to drown out the din in the bar.
"Have you thought any more of my offer?" Since she sat down that had been all that he was thinking about. Logan was still unsure of her, she wasn't crazy and yet at the same time he wanted her to be.
"A bit," he didn't take his eyes off of her. "What is it you want?" She smiled.
"You haven't changed a bit, still demanding as ever."
"And your still pissing me off," it came out in a low growl. She took a sip of her beer.
"This is how it works, I give you the book you use it as you wish and when the time comes I will receive my payment."
"What do you want for you little book!" he was getting frustrated with the girl, the temptation to get rid of her swelled in him.
"No, my terms." She stared coolly at him, which was a great feat for a blind women. He glared back. "This is your last chance." She had been right about the picture. He realized that he simply did not have to do whatever she demanded, she wouldn't be able to force him. "Time is running out, you meat the first child in a mater of hours, you may want to be prepared."
"Fuck," she kept focused on him. "OK, what ever." She opened bag that she had carried in with her and pulled a medium sized leather bound book from it, she slid it across the table to the feral man in front of her.
"I chose you because I know that I can trust you to keep your word," she kept her hand on the book. "Despite what you may think you will fulfill my request. I also recommend that you do not tell anyone about this book, especially Charles Xavier. And when we next cross paths it is best if you do not know me. I will contact you personally in regards to this matter. Is there a problem with any of this?"
Logan stared at her coolly.
"No." She held his eyes for a moment, then got up and collected her bag and left.
He sat there fingering the book. He didn't open it; he wasn't ready to yet, the hope that she had given to him frightening. His family was in this book and he could better protect them but at the same time he could better protect himself from hurt that love ultimately brought with it if he used the book to avoid them. He needed to make the choice before he opened the book, it was important for him to make the decision first. He didn't notice the bartender announce last call.
Disclaimer: Marvel owns them, I'm just borrowing them.
Notes: You probably want to read Deal with the Devil first to figure out what is going on.
Dance With the Devil
Logan scanned the Old Man's office, it was tastefully decorated with wood paneling and leather bound books that lined the bookcase behind him; an oversize oak desk separated him from Logan. He sat there for an hour listening to him blather on about his dream. Logan was polite enough to listen but he wasn't sure if he believed that mutants and humans would ever be able to live together. Besides, he knew why he was really there; the Old Man was just to idealistic to say it out loud. Logan's job was to do the dirty work on this little crew. He was use to the job; it had been the only job he had ever remembered doing. The work suited him, he didn't really love it but somebody had to do it. Finally the polite conversation ended and a black woman with platinum hair that spilled down her back came to collect him.
"This is Ms. Ororo Munroe she will show you around," the Old Man smiled, wheeled back from the desk and turned to the tall window. "Ororo give him the complete tour."
"Of course Charles, if you will follow me." Logan didn't mind the idea of following the chocolate skinned exotic. It quickly became obvious that that follow meant walk beside her, Logan was disappointed. She led him through a maze of rooms labeling each one and then took him outside to go over the grounds. She spoke a practiced English with a very proper accent. His trained ear told him that she had learned her English from an Englishmen. The accent wasn't pronounced enough for her to have lived in England; perhaps she had learned it at a convent school. He didn't really care about her explanations for rooms. As long as he could find the kitchen, the TV, the gym, the front door, his room and maybe hers. Still the place was more posh then where his last crew had been based. The last time he had such lush accommodation was the time he was lent to England to protect a little old lady; he spent a week talking about horse racing and playing poker, the Queen Mother could pick a winner and played a mean game of cards. Logan wondered when they would get to "the complete tour," the rose garden wasn't very interesting.
He followed her into the house and she led him to a paneled wall in the library, the dimensions of the room were too small compared to the office next door, he figured three feet was missing. The women watched him out of the corner of her eye as she revealed a secret elevator. Logan's interest in the tour went up a notch; finally it was getting interesting. A short ride down and he stood in the basement with the women; her explanation of these rooms was much more detailed and interesting. The medical facilities were on par with any hospital emergency room, the jet would give any flyboy a hard-on, and something called the Danger Room sounded like it might be fun. There was a lot more going on with these people then he expected.
That evening he laid on his bed going over the speech Xavier had given him. He hadn't expected the X men to be so high tech; it had surprised him. He had read the intelligence on them and realized the old joke about intelligence and oxymoron's. Logan decided that he needed to explore the house on his own, he wanted to find out more about the inhabitance, and especially some of the lovely women he had met early. He wandered down to the first floor and into a sitting room with a cushioned seat set into a bay window. A cluster of photos on an ornate cabinet caught his attention and out of a mixture of curiosity and boredom wandered over to examine them. Some featured the Old Man, but most were action shots of a mismatched group of kids. He gave them no more then a quick examination. One in particular caught his eye, a posed photo of five kids and the Old Man. Logan concentrated on it, deep in his mind he knew that the picture was familiar. He had seen it before; he cursed his poor memory.
Logan decided that it was time to get out of the mansion. Xavier had recommended a couple of bars to him. One on the edge of town if he was looking for a fight, Logan was surprised the Old Man knew such places existed. The other was more downtown and good for a quite drink. All the Professor had asked was not to get the police involved.
The place had been easy to find in a sleepy nieghbourhood in town. It was dimly lit, the perfect mood for drinking and thinking. Logan claimed an empty booth and to himself as the song on the jukebox changed to a three- year-old rock hit that nobody could really remember. The moment he settled in a waitress in a tight sweater came to take his order.
A few minutes later a beer appeared in front of him. He took a long drink, he hated American piss and debated going back to Canada based on the alcohol content of the beer. The photo still bothered him. There was something important about it, he was better with scents then faces. The pub began to fill up and he got jealous looks for his booth that he ignored.
He concentrated on the condensation rings that marred the table, oblivious to the crowd that formed in the bar. A familiar scent settled into the seat across from him and memories came flooding back to him. It was the crazy bitch with the picture, Destiny.
"What the hell do you want?" he looked up at her. She was older, almost old enough of be a grandmother. He didn't realize that so much time had passed since he had first met her, when you don't grow old you don't notice stuff like time.
"A beer," Logan smiled at that.
"Your too young to drink," she had gained an air of elegance and shed her girlish innocents. He got the waitresses attention; they sat there in silence and waited for her beer. Logan wandered what was with her and silence. The beer came and the quite continued and yet managed to drown out the din in the bar.
"Have you thought any more of my offer?" Since she sat down that had been all that he was thinking about. Logan was still unsure of her, she wasn't crazy and yet at the same time he wanted her to be.
"A bit," he didn't take his eyes off of her. "What is it you want?" She smiled.
"You haven't changed a bit, still demanding as ever."
"And your still pissing me off," it came out in a low growl. She took a sip of her beer.
"This is how it works, I give you the book you use it as you wish and when the time comes I will receive my payment."
"What do you want for you little book!" he was getting frustrated with the girl, the temptation to get rid of her swelled in him.
"No, my terms." She stared coolly at him, which was a great feat for a blind women. He glared back. "This is your last chance." She had been right about the picture. He realized that he simply did not have to do whatever she demanded, she wouldn't be able to force him. "Time is running out, you meat the first child in a mater of hours, you may want to be prepared."
"Fuck," she kept focused on him. "OK, what ever." She opened bag that she had carried in with her and pulled a medium sized leather bound book from it, she slid it across the table to the feral man in front of her.
"I chose you because I know that I can trust you to keep your word," she kept her hand on the book. "Despite what you may think you will fulfill my request. I also recommend that you do not tell anyone about this book, especially Charles Xavier. And when we next cross paths it is best if you do not know me. I will contact you personally in regards to this matter. Is there a problem with any of this?"
Logan stared at her coolly.
"No." She held his eyes for a moment, then got up and collected her bag and left.
He sat there fingering the book. He didn't open it; he wasn't ready to yet, the hope that she had given to him frightening. His family was in this book and he could better protect them but at the same time he could better protect himself from hurt that love ultimately brought with it if he used the book to avoid them. He needed to make the choice before he opened the book, it was important for him to make the decision first. He didn't notice the bartender announce last call.