Title: Logan's Little Damsel In Distress
Author: Karen
Summary: Sara is kidnapped and it's Logan to the rescue.
Logan's Little Damsel In Distress
Logan's POV
Marie was in the medlab giving birth to Scooter's second kid so I got conned into chauffeur duty to drive the moron twins (also known as Jubilee and Kitty) to the mall. I shoulda known better. My last foray to the mall with them to pick out a Halloween costume for Sara had been an outright disaster. I've always said I'd rather fight Sabretooth blindfolded with one arm tied behind my back than face the horrors of the mall with those two ever again. However, that torturous last experience seemed like a day at Disneyland compared to what happened this time.
I was sitting by the center court fountain defiantly smoking a cigar despite the big 'No Smoking' signs everywhere.
What? You mean it's not just a suggestion?
Anyway, I was sitting there 'cause apart from the fact that the o-de-pew from the Bath and Bodily Functions store, or whatever the hell it was called, bothered the hell outta my enhanced senses, there was no way I was gonna be caught anything less than stone-cold dead in such a girly place. I saw them smear some pink-colored lotion on Sara's arm and was tempted to jump up, run in there and tell 'em to leave the poor kid alone, that she smelled fine just the way she was, but then a real looker wearing an indecently short skirt and displaying a nice who-gives-a-shit-if-they're-fake rack bounced by and well, let's just say my attention got momentarily diverted. By the time I glanced back at the store, the three of 'em musta wandered deeper inta it, cause I didn't see 'em anymore.
When Jubilee and Kitty strolled out five minutes later I noticed two things – they each had a bag that obviously contained some stinky concoction, which meant that they'd bought something in every store they'd hit, but most importantly, Sara wasn't with them. Tamping down my immediate panic I asked about the kid, hoping the fear in my voice wasn't seeping through.
Jubilee and Kitty were both dumb enough to look down as if they expected to see Sara standing there. That's right, I'd asked where she was 'cause I'd suddenly gone blind.
"She must still be in the store," Kitty said casually and turned to go back to the store.
"She was looking at the display of the sparkly shower gel, try there," Jubilee suggested.
"How could you lose her?" I asked in a low growl. No need to get totally pissed off if she was just temporarily misplaced.
When Kitty emerged a few moments later without Sara, but with a look of sheer panic on her face, I completely lost it. Mall security was called to quell the disturbance I created. Five guards attempted to wrestle me to the ground. Two ended up in the fountain, one went through the window of the candle store and the other two wisely released me. I didn't have time to be arrested; I had an angel to rescue, so I took off. Luckily for me rent-a-cops don't carry guns, so the best they could do was yell for me to stop. Not that bullets woulda done any real damage, just annoyed me more than anything else.
I sniffed the air to try and catch Sara's scent when I got a whiff of another distinct stench that I recognized from the night we tangled with the Brotherhood on the Statute of Liberty – Mystique. The blue bitch had Sara. She'd probably disguised herself as Marie and that's why Sara went with her without a fuss. When I was through with Mystique this time they'd have to vacuum up all the pieces and need her dental records to I.D. the body.
I traced the two scents to the northern exit of the mall, charged through the glass doors and headed for the parking lot, shoving a few people outta my way in the process. One fat bastard called me a jerk.
Well, excuse me, asshole – didn't mean to delay your stampede to the Cinnabons in the food court, but I got someone precious I gotta save, so up yours.
Then I targeted them and just as I figured, Mystique had taken on Marie's form. Now how the hell was I gonna wrestle Sara away from the bitch and kick the snot outta her while the kid watched? I could seriously scar the kid, if she thought I was hurting her mom. I wasn't even fucking sure if I could lay a finger on Mystique while she looked like Marie. Shit, Sara and I would both need therapy. Mystique was heading toward a dark green van. Just then the side door of the van opened and Sabretooth stepped out. Sara had been shown enough photos of Big, Hairy and Ugly to know he wasn't a friend of the family's. I saw her look up at her mom with questioning eyes. With a firm grip on Sara, Mystique morphed back into her original form and Sara panicked. Well, at least if the bitch was no longer Marie I wouldn't have to worry that I might hesitate about gutting her. Sabretooth reached out a massive paw and grabbed a hold of Sara, who wriggled frantically in his grip and let out a bloodcurdling scream that was like a knife going through my heart. Just for scaring my angelface, that prick's beyond fucking dead when I catch up with him. Mystique climbed into the driver's seat and started the van as Sabretooth shoved Sara into the back, climbed in after her and slammed the door shut.
Grrrrrr! Those two are about to learn that nobody hurts anyone I love.
I knew I'd never be able to catch up to them on foot and Marie's SUV was parked on the other side of the mall. I'd lose precious time running back to get it, so I did a quick survey of the lot to see what I could borrow. I spotted a Harley Fat Boy. Bingo. I sliced through the pathetic chain the owner had used to shackle it to a tree and hot-wired it easily.
Mystique turned onto the turnpike, which meant she was heading for the city. I was able to zip the bike in and outta traffic and was only a few hundred feet behind them. It suddenly began to rain hard and the downpour quickly made the roads slick. That piece of shit van musta been doing close to a hundred when it took a curve too sharply and spun around twice before careening off the road and flipping over a couple of times, finally coming to a rest right-side up. My heart jumped into my throat and despite the slippery road conditions I sped up even more. I saw that prick Sabretooth climb outta the crumpled van and head off into the adjoining woods, abandoning his teammate.
What a fucking asshole. Yeah, you better run, but I ain't through with you yet, bub.
That just left the blue bitch for me to deal with right now. I skidded the bike to a halt, jumped off and ran toward the van saying a silent prayer to a God I'd long given up on that Sara was okay. On reaching the wreckage I found Mystique slumped over the wheel and from her scent I knew she was already dead, which robbed me of the pleasure of killing her. A low sob coming from the back let me know that Sara was alive. I tore open the smashed-in side door and found that moron Sabretooth had at least had the sense to buckle the kid into her seat. Releasing a claw, I sliced through the fabric of the seatbelt and pulled Sara into my arms. She buried her little face into my left shoulder and clung to me tightly.
"You okay, angelface?" I asked as I maneuvered to put her under my jacket.
She gave me an affirmative nod and just hung onto me for dear life, her tears soaking my shirt.
It was still raining pretty hard and I didn't want Sara to get soaked riding on the bike, so I pulled the cellphone outta my pocket and called Jubilee to have her come pick us up. I had to let Jubilee drive home 'cause Sara refused to release her death grip on me and I couldn't drive with her on my lap. I called ahead to the house and told Chuck what had happened. Marie was still in labor, so I told him not worry her and Scott right now; that I'd take care of Sara until Scott was available to take over.
As soon as we got back I took Sara up to Scott and Marie's suite and ran a bath for her, adding some aromatherapy vapor bath crap that Marie said she used to help make Sara relaxed and sleepy.
And why the hell did I remember that?
During her bath, Sara was unusually quiet, obviously still in shock about the whole thing; she didn't play and just sat there as I washed her. I lifted her out of the tub, dried her off and dressed her in a Barbie nightgown. I knew it was too early for her to go to bed for the night, but I hoped she'd at least take a nap. I placed her on Scott and Marie's bed and handed her the raggedy old bunny I knew she slept with every night. She gave a big yawn and snuggled into the pillows.
"Wead me a stowy," she asked softly.
"Okay," I replied, "Lemme just go get a book from your room."
"I wanna PJ Funnybunny stowy," she told me.
Surveying the bookshelves in her room I quickly located the requested book and returned to find she was already half asleep. Good, I probably wouldn't have to read the whole thing. Clearing my throat, I began.
"Okay, here we go. The Very Bad Bunny by Marilyn Sadler. PJ Funnybunny did not mean to be bad. But sometimes he could not help it. One morning he spilled pancake syrup all over the kitchen floor. His sister called him a bad bunny. PJ said he was sorry. He did not mean to spill the syrup. PJ did not mean to tangle up his brother's yo-yo either or cut up the newspaper before his father read it or invite his friends to lunch without asking his mother."
The rabbit's not bad; he's just a moron.
I snuck a glance at Sara to see if she'd dropped off, but she was now wide awake and listening intensely, which meant I had to continue.
"'I am sorry', said PJ. But PJ's mother sent him to his room anyway. That made PJ so angry, he threw his pillow out the window. This time PJ did mean to be bad! The Funnybunnys could not believe it. They had never seen such a bad bunny."
Another peek in Sara's direction revealed she was still not asleep. With a small sigh I continued.
"Then one day PJ's cousin Binky came to visit. 'Now be good bunnies and go out and play,' said PJ's mother."
"Do the voice," Sara interrupted.
"What?" I asked.
"The voice – do the mommy voice. Daddy always does the voice."
I grinned when I thought of Scooter speaking in a squeaky girly voice, until I realized that's what Sara was asking me to do. I was about to inform her that badasses don't do voices when she threw me what I've dubbed 'the Marie pout', which to Wolverines was like what Kryptonite was to Superman – I was utterly powerless against it.
I swallowed my manly pride, and grateful that there were no security cameras in the bedrooms, read in an embarrassingly high-pitched voice, 'Now be good bunnies and go out and play', said PJ's mother."
Sara clapped her hands together in delight, so I guess I captured Mrs. Funnybunny okay.
"So PJ and Binky ran out to play. But Binky was not a good bunny. He threw PJ's best ball into the lake. Then he tossed PJ's cowboy hat into a tree and broke PJ's baseball bat. He even let go of PJ's balloon. Binky never once said he was sorry."
This Binky needed a claw shoved up his little fuzzy bunny ass.
I flipped another page. How long was this damn book? Scooter probably had to do this shit every night and I almost felt sorry for the poor bastard – almost. I stole a hopeful look at Sara and saw that her eyes were fluttering shut. Three, two, one and she was out. Gratefully, I closed the book and placed it on the nightstand. I shifted to get off the bed and unfortunately the movement woke her up. She literally leapt onto me and wrapped her little arms around my neck in a chokehold.
"Don't weave me!" she wailed in a panic stricken voice.
"It's okay, angelface, I'm not going anywhere," I reassured her as I pried her hands from around my neck, snuggled her against my chest, wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her head.
She now had a white-knuckle grip on my t-shirt and I was glad I was actually wearing one, 'cause she'd have ripped out some chest hair otherwise. I really wanted her to try and get some sleep, so I lay down on the bed and arranged her on my chest and began gently rubbing her back. Her little cheek was positioned over my heart and soon the rhythmic thumping lulled her to sleep. I decided not to risk waking her up by sliding her offa me, so I just lay there staring up at the ceiling. It was weird lying on Marie's bed – that dick's bed too, I reminded myself. I musta fallen asleep myself 'cause the next thing I know someone is giving my shoulder a firm shake. I blinked open my eyes to find Scooter looming over me.
"Damn, you're an ugly sight to wake up to. How the hell does Marie stand it?" I said as I eased a still sound asleep Sara offa me and stood up.
"Very funny," Scott retorted.
"Chuck tell you what happened?"
"Yeah. And I wanna thank you for what you did. You saved her life and I owe you," Scott replied genuinely.
"All part of the protection package I offered Marie when I first met her. The policy extended to cover any miniature versions of her, too," I said with a smile as I remembered the promise I'd made to her on the train.
"Uh, yeah, well….." Scooter looked awkward, but proceeded anyway, "I certainly appreciate you stepping in to pinch hit for me there, Logan, but I can take care of my family myself, thank you."
"Hey, didn't mean to step on your delicate tootsies there, Cyke. I don't know what you're so fucking paranoid about. You've won. She's yours. They're yours." I snapped and stormed outta the room.
The ungrateful prick. I realized I hadn't even asked about Marie and the baby, but then again I didn't need to listen to Scooter bragging about the latest proof of his virility. Well, fuck him. If I didn't know it would upset Marie and Sara, I'd gut him and toss his carcass into the dumpster behind the supermarket.
I stomped out to the garage, keyed Scooter's brand new Jag as I passed by it, hopped on my bike and headed off to my favorite watering hole and my favorite barmaid.