Thou Sqealeth Like A Pig

Disclaimer: Anything you could sue me for isn't mine

This is an AU story


Logan could feel the wind in his hair, the soft sweet breeze blowing in from the sea. The white sand shimmered in the sun, a pale contrast to the clear warm water. He sighed and lied back. He was the only person for a million miles. No Eyes Only, no paralysis, no nothing. He sat there in his shorts on the beach content, for once in his life he felt able to just say "Fuck it, I give up" and relax, no driving force behind his actions. Lying there he could hear nothing but to subtle lapping of the waves at his toes. Nothing. 'Except that, what is that?' he turned to look, he could hear somebody approaching him from down the beach, the sand under there feet barely making any sound.

He couldn't make it out yet, she we female, he could tell by the figure, dark hair, and. she seemed familiar, yet not. As she approached he could see who it was. It was the girl from the apartment, Max. She was wearing next to nothing, just a flimsy white bikini. So much for calm, he could feel his heart racing, then he watched as it came out of his chest, not a bloody mess, but a cartoon heart with a smiley face appeared on his chest before jogging off in the opposite direction from Max's approach. "Hmmm." he thought, "Strange."

Max stood over him looking down with those mischievous eyes of hers, before kneeling down next to him. He was still lying down propped up on his elbows observing her, every beautiful curve, every gorgeous detail of her face. She was perfect, his mind likened her to Bast.

She smirked at him, "Like what you see?" she asked his awe struck self.

"Hell yes" he said simply, not knowing what else to say.

"Then lets make your dream come true" She leaned down and kissed him passionately, his hands snaking behind her and undoing the flimsy tie letting her top settle in the thin water underneath them now, her skin warm and inviting he stroked his hands down her back and over her all too arousing rear. She broke the kiss, now slowly nipping his ear, her breath making him shiver in the warm climate. His roaming hands came to her front and found the two things they seems made to hold, or maybe that was just the man in him talking over his mind. She was grinding against his leg as he realised what she had said. "Dream"

His eyes shot open, this wasn't the beach, and he was alone. "Fuck!" he gritted his teeth. He was in bed, it was 11.43 am (He over-slept for once) and he was relapsing to when he was 17. Whatever the hell that was he didn't know but holy shit it was vivid, like another life he was recalling. Why on earth he was having dreams of a girl he didn't even know puzzled him, because it wasn't just plain sex like the other women he had dreamed about in his life time, but it was a romantic connection, that was a first. He just wished he hadn't woken up so early, but looking at the clock he knew he was going to have to rush to make up for time lost.

He went about his usual morning routine, before going to collect his letters and parcels from his pigeonhole in the garage of Foggle Towers. Upon bringing it all back upstairs he went about sorting through it. His trust fund cheque from his uncle, some junk mail from a brothel, and a box containing an imported compact disc he had ordered from an Eyes Only contact. They had others uses, and Logan often had some music on as he went about his hacks and assorted others things made easier by some ear candy. Looking at the cracked case of the old disk case he remembered it from almost 20 years ago. It was a classicRat Pack collection, something so rare that Logan had only just been able to locate a copy despite a few years worth of efforts. He smiled a bit knowing he had at last found it, before realising that was the last package.

He was meant to have a parcel containing a chip from Canada, one that would enable his exo-skeleton to handle extra power flow, or as he liked to think of it, super charged his legs.

"Damned package delivery service is meant to make getting things easier, not harder." He muttered pulling on his coat, he would have to go collect it, he really wanted to test it tonight in the field on his reconnaissance mission down town. Grabbing the keys to his Aztec off of the counter he started off towards the Jam Pony messenger service.


"Hey Bro, look at this dude." Rasped the gang member nodding in the direction of the approaching man.

The alley was dark, a broken streetlight flashing on and off, the flashes reminiscent of strobe lighting. Three men and two women populated the dark urban cave, the men sporting hunting knives and various handguns. The women wore little to nothing, smoking heavily ignoring the fact their makeup had run with the rain that was hammering down only an hour ago. They were a gang known as the 'Big Brovaz', not exactly scary or city renowned, but they tried. All black, they had recently swapped turf and had now taken this alley as one of their hangouts. The stared menacingly at the shadow cast figure approaching them.

Wearing a soaked brown trench coat, the lower part of the mans face was concealed by a scarf wrapped over his mouth, the end blowing in the wind behind his head. Hands firmly stuck in his pockets he looked down shyly at the floor as he paced down the alley, taking a shortcut to his destination. As he neared the gang, his pace slowed somewhat, making a direct course change to head straight past them. The three men stood in his way as he got to within a few feet of them, stopping him dead as he looked up at the thugs blocking his way. They where all taller than him, and almost twice as well built, the soaked man looking at eye level at their chests. They wore mostly leather and denim, adorned my motifs and sown abrasions. The lead man stepped forwards, his well-muscled arm pushing the quiet man in the shoulder.

"You lost little man, or are you just looking for trouble?" he snickered, laughter ringing out from the brainless females behind him.

"One assures thee doth not wish for a confrontation." said the smaller man, shrugging off the thugs meaty hand from his shoulder.

"You say what? Yo Lenn, what this motherfucker just say?" He snorted at one of his accomplices

"Not a clue, lets just beat english outta his white ass" Growled Lenn, his deep voice ringing from the tight alleys graffiti smeared brick walls.

At that the three men grunted, drawing their hunting knives and knuckle- dusters. They stepped forwards towards the motionless little man. For the first time since they had seen him he looked up, showing them his eyes.

"What the fuck?" one choked out before his head left his shoulders. The man on his right swung his metal covered fist at their 'victim' who silently ducked under it, his diminutive stature allowing an effortless dodge. A flash of metal and the huge torso of Lenn split, gore spilling out as his legs buckled and crumpled in a heap as the top half of his corpse hit the floor with a sickeningly wet thud, organs spilling under the feet of the remaining 'Brutha'. He screamed as the small man flicked his weapon in his direction.

"Thou sqealeth like a pig" he spat as his blade bit into the cranium of the crying behemoth, cleaving the top third of his head off like a hot knife through butter.

He fell into the crimson puddle of his fallen brethren, And just as soon as their killer had shown, he was now leaving, hands in pockets and pacing at a normal speed down though the alley. He stepped over the two women he had slain after their other gang members, their severed limbs holding no weapons.


"Jam Pony messenger service eh?" Logan said standing outside of his destination, watching a variety of types of people ride out and off to deliver their packages, all except his it would seem. He walked in, dodging a black man shouting out "sketchy" at a crowd outside, and walked up to a short man crying out "bip bip bip" to some kids who couldn't care less. He had found a lunatic asylum.

"Erm, excuse me but do you run this place?" asked Logan and the man span to look at him.

"Sure do, and no we haven't any jobs so get lost, call back next week" snorted Normal, not even bothering to look at the speaker, his nose buried in notes and packages.

"Well see I am one of your customers, a dissatisfied one at that." sighed Logan, he hated having to do this.

Normal looked up, his eyebrow raised. "What's your name?"

"Mr. Anderson" he replied, using the name he had supplied them with. He used this service a lot, adding extra tips for no questions asked.

"You, your Mr. Anderson? Ah Sorry, I didn't know. Err" Normal stuttered in front of his best customer, "I know who has your package" he said quickly.

"MAX!"


"MAX!" rang out Normal's voice.

Max was sat in the back just about to set out on her last run. One package left, one place across town and that was it, if he gave her extra she was going to kill him. Sitting up she weaved in between the lockers and into clear view of Normal's cage and.him?

Her pulse quickened immediately, her breath leaving her body. It was him, Logan. She hadn't been to sleep last night but she had spent most of the night on her bike daydreaming about things she could do to him. There he stood wearing a white t-shirt and burgundy chinos. She strode up to him, ignoring Normal completely.

"We meet again." She said simply looking up into his deep blue eyes.

"Indeed we do" he smiled looking down at her. Time seemed irrelevant as Normal opened his mouth. She wore a tight red shirt and ankle skin length black cargo pants. Her face was angelic.

"Max I believe you have a package for this Man" he said, looking between the two. Even he could feel the electricity around the two.

"Erm, I do? Err yeah here" she passed it over to him, to lost in him to notice she was giving a package for a Mr.Anderson to Logan Cale.

"Thanks" Logan forced out, his words not wanting to leave his lips.

The two didn't know what to say, until Max's friend appeared behind her. With out a word she grabbed Max under the arm and dragged her out the door of Jam Pony. Max kept her eyes locked on Logan as long as she could, her puppy dog eyes burning into his before he disappeared out of view as OC dragged her down the street, her traitorous legs carrying her away from him.

He didn't know what had just happened, but he felt something strange inside. She was incredible. He was stood inside his penthouse, although he didn't know how he got there. He shook his head trying to get his head straight. It was getting late, and he had to get ready to go out. He never usually made an effort, but He didn't want to stand out as the scruffy guy, he needed anonymity tonight. He was going to meet a scope out a meeting place for a contact he was going to meet a week later there. He needed to know it was secure. He set off too get a shower before going to Crash.