Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or any characters from Metal Gear Solid 3.

Summary: Logan has a discussion with Snake (from Metal Gear Solid 3) in a bar. One-shot.

Note: I recently beat MGS3, and was thinking about how similar Snake is to Logan and how they'd probably get along. So that's where this idea came from. Even though Snake's in this, it doesn't take place during Cold War times or anything like MGS3 did. Let's just say in this fic, Snake is as ageless as Logan.

Have a Drink

The smoky atmosphere and near-vacant appearance of the practically run-down pub drew Logan in. He was in a mood for brooding, drinking, and not much else. He preferred not to be around too many people at the moment, and this place seemed perfect for that. It wasn't crowded, but the droning of the juke-box's honky-tonk music was enough to drown-out his thoughts and set him a little bit at ease.

A skinny, wrinkled, flannel-wearing old bartender stood before Logan as he took a seat on a rickety wooden stool. "What can I get'cha?" he asked in a deep voice that clearly held a Brooklyn accent.

"Shot o' whiskey an' a beer." Logan said gruffly, absently tracing his fingers over the smooth, worn downedge of the bar top.

"What kinda beer ya want?" the bartender asked while scratching the salt an' pepper stubble on his chin.

"Surpise me," Logan muttered with a grunt, then added, "An' none o' that light beer crap either."

The bartender smirked, showing more wrinkles. "You got it."

The dimness of the bar was a welcoming from the moon-lit night outside, and Logan relished in the fact that he was avoiding a formal dance at the mansion. For some reason, Scott had convinced Emma that it was a good idea, giving everyone a chance to relax and have a little fun. But Logan just didn't want any part of it. Seeing One-Eye and the Ice Queen together made him sick to his stomach. How could Scott just give up on Jean like that? Not that he wanted Jean to be with Scott, because if she were still alive Logan was sure in his heart that he'd want to be with her. He also knew that it probably wouldn't happen, even if Summers was unavailable.

Realizing daftly that that bartender had already placed his drinks in front of him, Logan popped the cap off the beer bottle and took a swig. As he clanked the glass back down noisily on the bar top, he gave a satisfied nod at the brand of beer the old bartender had chosen to surprise him with. Gotta love Molsen, he thought with a brief smirk, It's Canadian.

Raising an eyebrow as he heard the creaky wooden door of the pub swing open, Logan listened as heavy booted steps made their way to the bar. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he watched as a man sat a few stools down at his left. The guy had dark, shaggy hair with an unkept bearded face, rumpled clothing, and a patch on his right eye. Logan watched with bored interest as the bartender approached the new customer.

"What'll it be?"

"Got any whiskey?" the man had a deep, scratchy voice as he spoke. He appeared to be in about as much of a mood as Logan was in.

"Sure do," the old bartender nodded with a wrinkly smile and turned to fix the man's drink.

Suddenly in the mood for small-talk, Logan downed his shot of whiskey and turned toward the guy. "Shitty day huh?"

The man didn't even bother to turn, he just let out along sigh, staring across the bar at the bottles of liquor on the old wooden shelves. "You could say that."

"Hn." Logan grunted, finishing off his beer and gesturing toward the bartender as the old guy handed the shot to his only other customer. "Can I get another shot o' whiskey an' another beer?"

"Want me to surprise you again?" the bartender smirked with a slight twinkle in his dull blue eyes.

"Nah, Molsen's fine."

For some reason, the guy to the left of Logan decided to do a little talking himself. "So, what's your name?"

Logan rested his elbow on the bar. He eyed the stranger curiously, then realizing it was just conversation and he shouldn't be so paranoid, he answered, "Logan. Yers?"

"Snake," the man realized the oddity of the name, but before he could correct himself, Logan spoke again.

"Yer mama give you that name?" Logan smirked slightly, pushing his empty shot glass and beer bottle aside as his new drinks came.

Snake grunted. He sipped at his whiskey, then put it down slowly. Almost hesitantly, he said, "Jack."

Nodding, Logan popped the cap off his new beer and drained half the bottle in one gulp before setting it down. "Got woman troubles Jack?" he muttered, trying not to sound bitter as he thought of his own problems.

Gazing off blankly for a moment, Snake envisioned himself looking down at a pale, plain-looking blonde-haired woman lying in a field of white flowers. He was pointing a gun at her. Boss... he thought sadly before shaking his head and answering Logan's question. "Yeh, you could say that." He finished his whiskey, raising his empty glass and gesturing toward the bartender for another. "An' what brings you to a place like this t'night?"

"Demons..." Logan whispered to himself before looking up and scrubbing a hand over his face. "Uh..I dunno, same thing as you I suppose."

- - - - -

Almost an hour, and many drinks later, Logan and Snake were conversing like old friends.

After having more than three times the amount of liquor that his new drinking partner had consumed, Logan was even feeling a little buzzed, despite his healing factor. "So," he began lowly and slightly slurred, "This other girl, the one that ain't dead... Ya loved 'er?"

Snake sighed. "Yeh...yeh I - I think I did." His mouth was set in a grim line and his brows suddenly knit together as his hand that rested on the bar curled into a fist. "But she lied to me.." he shook his head with betrayal. "I was fuckin' tricked...."

Logan shook his head and finished off yet another shot of whiskey.

Staring blankly, almost as if he were about to pass out, Snake slapped his palm against the bar top and grunted, peering over at Logan. "Now this girl you loved that had another man..... What happened to 'er?"

Silence passed between the two for what seemed like a long time. Logan hung his head mirthlessy, then quietly said, "In the last moments I spent with 'er.... she was in my arms." he trailed off for a moment before clenching and unclenching his fists. "And she died....."

Comprehending the man's inner anguish, Snake released a sympathetic sigh. Despite not knowing full details of what the other was saying, and aware that they were both leaving things out, Snake and Logan seemed to have an insight into one anothers lives.

Logan suddenly slapped a number of rumpled green bills on the bar top and got up with a grunt and momentary stagger. Clearing his throat and shrugging on his jacket, he stalked out of the dusky pub.

Finishing off the remainder of beer in his last bottle, Snake tossed some money on the bar as Logan had, then got up to leave. He nearly fell off his barstool before steadying himself. Guess I drank a little more than I thought. Walking deliberately slow to control his staggering, Snake headed out of the pub, following Logan's exit.

Leaning against the brick outer wall of the pub by the parking lot, Logan drew a cigar and lighter out of his jacket pocket. He glanced to the side as Snake wandered around the corner and headed toward him, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Puffing on his cigar, Logan raised an eyebrow over at Snake. "You smoke?"

"Hn." Snake grunted with a small smirk as he pulled out a cigar and lighter from his own pockets. "Do I ever." He lit up and leaned against the wall, taking a puff. He leaned his head back against the bricks and gazed up at the sky, the darkness interrupted by a nearby streetlight. Dropping his right hand by his side and fiddling with the cigar between his fingers, Snake took in a deep breath. "So, you ever think you're gonna head home after a bender like this an' have a girl waitin' for you?"

Logan smirked and stared dazedly at the glow from the streetlight. "Yeh, some day.... That sound's like it'd be nice."

"Yeh. 'Cept havin' that girl would probably mean the need ta go out and get trashed wouldn't happen so much." Snake let out a short chuckle as he took another puff on his cigar.

"Ain't such a bad thing." Logan clamped the cigar between his teeth and grunted.

Focusing at the pavement beneath his feet, Snake let out a sigh. The image of Eva's face stuck out in his mind. Despite the betrayal and lack of knowing her real name, he felt like he'd still be better off if she was with him. "No..." Snake looked up with an agreeable crooked smile. "It's not."

Logangestured toward the patch on Snake's right eye, then changing the subject he asked, "How the hell'd that happen?"

"Stray bullet." Snake muttered, remembering his torture, the struggle. Licking his dry lips, he pointed his cigar at Logan a moment. "You ever been shot?"

"Hmph. Once or twice." Logan grunted, surpressing the urge to smirk at the great understatement.

Snake just nodded. It didn't matter that neither he nor Logan knew what the other did for a living, whether it be legal or not. The fact was, they both realized their similarities and they didn't need to know every itty bitty fact about the other man to see the understanding between them.

"Well, I guess I'm gonna get goin'." Logan tossed the stubby cigar to the ground, crushing it under the heel of his boot.

Nodding, Snake just held the remainder of his cigar between his fingers, switching it over to his left hand. "Can't say that I've ever had such a deep conversation with a complete stranger."

"Yeh, me neither." Logan grunted, stepping away from the wall. He held out his hand and Snake shook it. "Hope ya find that gal sometime in the future." he grinned crookedly.

"You too," Snake nodded, then the two parted ways, the sound of their boots tapping against the pavement fading away as they disappeared into the darkness of the night.

- - - - - The End - - - - -

Note: Well, that's it. Hope someone enjoyed it. Please review!