"Logan! Where the fuck are you?"
"Canada."
"No shit. Whereabouts in Canada, or is that classified?"
"Alberta. Listen, Rogue, I can't chat right now. I need the jet, and I need some backup - preferably Cyke."
"The jet? Shit. Gimme the co-ordinates."
"Fifty-seven degrees, eight minutes north, hundred and twelve degrees and three minutes west. You got that?"
"Yeah. Half an hour."
"Make it sooner." Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
"SCOOOOOOTT!!!"
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"Jesus fucking Christ all-fucking-mighty. Could you have left that a little later, perhaps?"
"Calm down, Scooter. You're alive, ain't you? We're all alive, the bad guys are locked up, and the jet's repairable."
"Fine, fine, great. You know what? YOU fucking fix it, then. Are those your claw marks, or are they Sabretooth's? It's kind of hard to tell, what with all the fire damage in here."
"Chill, Scott. It wasn't Logan's fault."
"Oh, really? Is that so, Rogue? Well, I'm so glad you pointed that out, because I was beginning-"
"Hey, hey, don't you yell at her. It ain't her fault, either."
"Fine. I'll just shut up and fly this junk heap, then, shall I?"
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"My hearing's not as good as yours, Logan, but I still heard that."
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"Geez, he sure hailed a passing huff and went off in it, didn't he?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Rogue."
"You're welcome, sugar. Next time you're planning to pick a fight with Sabretooth and Mystique, you just let me know. Preferably in advance. A long, looooong time in advance."
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that."
"Hey, I was just joking. Oh, god... My shoulder's killing me. I'm gonna go hit the showers. You sticking around for a while? I haven't seen you in forever."
"Um, I dunno."
"Oh. Well, fine. I might see you before you go, then."
"Rogue-"
"Later."
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"Still here?"
"Yeah."
"Sorry I snapped at you, earlier."
"Nah, I deserved it. I've not been around much, have I?"
"Well, you know, the life-saving? It makes up for a lot."
"No, it don't. I should be here, in case you need me, not off out pickin' fights and diggin' up trouble and discoverin' new bars."
"You don't, you know - have to be here, I mean. I'm all grown-up, I can look out for myself. Yeah, I'd like it if you were here more often, but I know that's not how you are."
"Maybe. Maybe I could be like that, if I tried."
"What? Why would you, though?... Logan?"
"It was just a thought. I'm going to bed. I'll be outta here in the morning."
"What? Hey, wait - stop - Logan, wait up a second. What're you in such an all-fired rush about, all of a sudden?"
"Don't matter. I'm gonna go catch some shuteye. I'll probably see you tomorrow."
"Logan - you're so pig-headed. Why're you off so soon?"
"Things to do..."
"Bars to discover? A minute ago you were thinking about hanging up the jackets and putting the bike out to grass, or am I mistaken? What just happened?"
"Nothin'. I'm goin' to bed. Night."
"...Well, night, then. Damn."
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