Ugh. Again a few words of apology from yours truly. Can you believe I have been sick for two and a half months straight? It's not nice, let me tell you this much. Especially since the world doesn't just stop turning and waits for me to get back to full health.
Speaking of, I'm sure you all heard Johnny Depp is the new sexiest man alive, taking the title from Hugh jackman. Do I hear crickets chirp? Anyway. I think he deserves it too. It's the second time for him, only Clooney and Pitt made it twice so far.
Anyway. Yeah so that's my excuse (the sick part, not the sexiest men part), since we already celebrated Thanksgiving in October. Yeah I'm German but that doesn't mean we can't continue the stuff we picked up in Canada. Unfortunately employers here don't give us a day off on Victoria Day :P
Behold the mighty reviewers of chapter eight!
seargentlambchop You wanted a bone, I could have thrown you a ham roast :P, wolverette So glad you like it-and don't think my hub likes the name :P But it fits in with our other pets names so he can't say anything, though to him it's just "the bunny", cherish15 uuuh that stuff is nasty! Anything homemade is, actually. Nothing taste worse than those homemaking kit wines. Yikes! Though I agree, he would feel that for about ten minutes tops, Glykera hope this information helps :P, OceanFae Giving it my best^^, Bre cliffies are great, at least I think so when it comes to my stories, not so much when I read them, I'm way too impatient, Comic-cake Why, did it seem to you like he was struggling, he isn't stuggling, the Wolverine doesn't struggle :P, serena001 oh no I really don't like to torture my readers, it just makes sense to divide the chapters that way^^, JohnPaulGeorgeandRingo don't kick yourself, the wonders of alerts will take care of that now :P I do think you can get away with fuzzy-this time. Hope you didn't die, you'll find out the truth in a few moments, ancim thank you for the compliments, hobbitsdoitbetter I hope this will end your agony for now :P
To those of you who care a little update on Logan-I will have a little talk to our vet tomorrow because he told me the easiest way to get Logan to stop fighting with guys and humping girls and be so overall grumpy (he tends to bite. Not me though :D) would be to get him castrated.
Now... I laughed at first. Because I had to think of our dear Logan. And to be honest, I wouldn't want him fixed, I like that gruffness of his and the whole... Logan thing. What would he be without it? But then again, many man claim committing to one single woman for a lengthy period of time is like cutting off their balls... And before I go even more philosophical on you, sit down, grab a cookie and enjoy.
I wonder what's so funny about that and wait for her to enlight me, but she just keeps on laughing, in the most annoying, bending over and slapping her knees kind of way.
"What the fuck is so funny here, eh?"
Usually she would laugh at me for saying that, after all that's what Canadians do. Talk slow, say eh a lot, wear flannel shirts, watch hockey, drink beer and work as lumber jacks.
But I don't talk that slow. And my lumber jack days are far gone, so anyone willing to live another day better watch it.
"Logan..." she croaks, face red and tear stained and all I do is stare at her lips.
Sick, sick old man. I won't blame this on my feral side, my instincts taking over my brain, turning the desire to protect the one person on this planet I actually give a shit about into some sort of possessiveness and that into... the desire to push her against that wall and take what I want.
No, I won't do that. I already did, didn't help much.
"Logan, he's not my son."
That actually makes me listen up.
What?
Oh.
"What?"
"He. Is. Not. My. Son."
That's impossible. He smells like her. He called her...
"I've been working at an orphanage in some kind of big sister program, Jubilee is a social worker there and got me into it."
There is no time to laugh about the biggest joke since the beginning of time-ditzy, bubblegum chewing, annoying-as-hell Jubilation Lee is a social worker?
"That doesn't explain what I heard. And smelled."
She frowns at me.
"You will find out if you shut up for a few minutes. First I need a beer. And while I get us a few cans, maybe you can get out of your fight stance and relax a little. I have a couch, use that."
I growl and she laughs at me from the kitchen. Damn woman. I am a little angry with myself for just assuming things without talking to her, but I mean, it seemed kind of clear. Anyone could have made that mistake, right.
She walks into the living room just as I throw myself on the couch and she tosses me a can of Kokanee. I wonder where she had to go to to get that, but for now I don't care. She sits down next to me and I can smell that she's a little angry. And something else I can't name, some emotion that isn't happy, angry or horny. I don't care too much about the rest and so far I didn't have any problems with that.
"I met Jamie when he was little more than a baby. His mom dumped him in front of a church because she didn't want him, he had a skin condition called Neurodermatitis. It's not contagious or life threatening, but it was all over him, nobody wanted to touch him and he cried a lot because it was itching and hurting him."
Even someone as dense as I am can understand why she picked that particular kid.
"We did all the stuff you do with kids, went to the zoo, park, playgrounds, the works. Over time he started to view me as a real family member. He can be annoying sometimes, but I still love him."
I understand that, too. Except for the love part. A long time ago I did love I guess, but it's not like riding a bike, you can forget how to do it. It's actually pretty easy. Have someone you love betray you and after that, kill them once you love them. After the second it gets easier to not fall for anyone.
"He still calls me Mammy, he couldn't say Marie when he was little and it stuck."
Okay, that settled one of my questions, one more to go.
I put my can down, it's empty. Without looking at me she hands me another. Just as I open my mouth to ask she turns her head to frown at me. So I sit back, open my beer and shut my mouth.
"A few days ago he has had an accident. Nothing too grave, but he lost some blood. Remember how they told me at the mansion that I had a very rare blood type that they don't even have in the National Frozen Blood Bank?"
I nod. Of course I do. It had given me a heart attack because in case she ever manages to get severely inured-which is for an X-Men and especially her, pretty much a monthly occurrence-we'd have to find someone with her type to donate. Which is hard if one in ten fucking thousand shares your antigens. I know where this is headed.
"We match. So of course, I donated. Funny thing is, all his scars vanished after the transfusion, he hasn't had a new outbreak since."
This has to be because she borrowed my healing to get rid of her headache. Huh.
"Imagine what your blood could do!"
Drive people nuts. I honestly don't care because I don't like the idea of some degenerate doctor draining me to cure cancer. I generally don't like the combination of white coats and needles. But she knows that. If I had any doubt, her tongue sticking out would give it away.
"Well, you have to admit that the facts were all pointing in one direction, who would guess he smells like you because you donated your blood?"
"Anyone in their right mind would have talked to me before jumping to conclusions. But I know you aren't like all the sane people out there you big lughead."
There is no way that I will dignify that with an answer so I just stare at the wall and clutch my beer. What an adult response. Sometimes I just like to sit back inside my own head and watch myself behaving like a complete idiot. If you have decades to spend on training yourself to become the worlds biggest idiot, you should try that. Quite an experience.
"So, are you done throwing a tantrum now or is there anything else you want to talk through?"
"You have an evil twin you know about?"
She giggles. Good to know I can still do that, swing her mood around in a heartbeat.
"No. I'm not your sister either. And as long as you're around you can take care of any brain tumors."
Another one from the good old days. There were a few students glued to the screen when stupid soaps were on where there's always someone plotting, scheming, finding out their lover is their long lost sibli... Why did she just say she isn't my sister?
I start to think like a damn teenage girl.
"Too bad I ate the leftover pizza last night, I'm afraid I didn't go grocery shopping today and there isn't anything here worth eating."
Remembering the dried up onions I found in a cupboard the other morning I have to agree. But there is always some Chinese restaurant delivering all night so we go for that, even though I still have to leave and visit the beautiful 7 Eleven down the street because I'd like to drink something, too. There's a homeless guy sleeping in front of the doors that looks strangely familiar but I shrug it off. I'm having a hard time remembering all the things I am supposed to buy-basically everything they have.
The boy that wears a tag identifying him as Stu, assistant manager, looks at the stuff I pile up on the counter, then looks at me, probably trying to figure out what a guy like me wants with three different kinds of chocolate chip cookies and dill pickle chips. If he gives me that grin that those kids give each other when they figure they are both members of the stoner club I will leave him to bleed to death behind the counter.
"Girl's pregnant, huh?"
Apparently her thinks I'm not the stoner type. He's smarter than he looks. But that doesn't mean he isn't an idiot. I grab a few chocolate bars and frown at him, picturing his face twisting as I lift him up with one hand just to gut him with the claws on the other. If he didn't smell like a human I'd say he's psychic, even his pimples turn white. He swallows and tells me what I have to pay, not even bothering to ask if I want bags-he packs up my stuff for me with shaking hands.
If nobody mentions pregnancy, children and anything related to them in the next few weeks I'd be more than grateful.
Back in her apartment I am glad to escape the smells of wet dog and old people, Chinese food and Marie are a real trade up. Even if I still have to endure that horrible couch.
We eat in relative silence, the TV is on and I don't really pay attention to it, there is an NHL game on in about half an hour but I'm not interested in either of the teams. On the other hand it is a program we can agree on and since we're not rooting for any of the teams we won't get into any arguments. This could be a relatively nice evening.
Sometime during the first period she yawns and I pull her over like I did at the mansion when we watched TV together. Sometimes. Anyway, she doesn't protest-at least not me. I missed some high-sticking and a little fist fight, at least that's what I gather from Marie's mumbled insults, her face is half buried in my shirt and it's hard to understand.
Half way during the second period her breathing signals that she is fast asleep, of course I just noticed that, I didn't listen to her relaxed breathing and her slowing heartbeat instead of watching the game. No.
Instead of watching the third period I turn around carefully and put my legs up on the couch and reach behind me to prop up a pillow. Fighting the urge to kiss her forehead I lean back and allow myself to relax. For the first time in a long while I, the one who can go for days without sleep, feel a wave of tiredness wash over me