Happy new year everyone! I try to be quiet just in case you are tormented by hangover dwarfs.

Sorry this took so long, life happened, a bout of inspiration loss and well, I got lazy.

I have a sad announcement to make. The next chapter will be the last one. I hate ending stories, that's why I usually abandon them^^ Actually I was going to post the last one today but decided to split it up, stretch that moment out a little longer. Some day I might write a sequel because I really enjoyed this, but for now I have a new story that demands to be let out and it feels like-almost-everything has been said for this one.

The lyrics used in this chapter are credited right underneath, I don't want to spoil the surprise :P

And everyone who's taken an interest in Logan the bunny-check out my avi^^

Big, big thank you to all of you who reviewed the last chapter, you know who you are, today there won't be a list and reply section, sorry for that, I am a bit tired since I worked on this chapter up until now. You will get a big thank you next chapter. And to the quiet readers, maybe mentally prepare yourself for a review next time? It would make my month to end this story and receive a review from all of you.

Enough talk, let's go!

A very annoying beeping sound penetrates the wonderful quiet and is soon followed by some very colorful curses. What, I am not a morning person. Especially not today. Who is stupid enough to call me at.. Oh. I guess I know who it is and I guess I have half an hour to get to the mansion and to class again. Well, screw that.

I carefully pluck the communicator from the pocket of my shirt and try to fling it out of the slightly opened window when I feel Marie stir next to me. Damn it.

"Will you ever be around for breakfast?"

She mutters into my shirt just before she starts to stretch.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, I'll give it a shot."

I can feel the corners of her mouth twitch, even through the thick fabric of my shirt. That reminds me of the fact that she is very close. And her hand is on my belt buckle. Before I can do anything stupid I get up and stretch. A night on the couch like this is unpleasant even if you have adamantium bones and heal quick.

The wind in my face helps me clear my head at least a little. I have to admit that I don't really know wat to do. As far as I can remember I have never been in anything resembling a healthy, normal relationship. From what I gathered things weren't much different before I happened to lose my memory. And that bit about the women I cared for dying is a little unsettling, too.

Well, at least I can say the women in my life all had something in common.

I killed them.

And after I killed Jean this idea formed in my head. Maybe I should lie down on a couch for this one, because it's so neurotic it calls for a shrink. Maybe I am not cut out for all this. Maybe my subconscious makes me pick women that are wrong because I shouldn't have anything like this.

And then along comes Marie.

Too young for anything, too young for my mind to even lightly brush the subject, even though I suddenly feel that strange urge to protect her from harm-and other males. As if I didn't know what that meant. I even tried to leave subtle hints. Telling her I wasn't her father and all that bullshit. I usually posses the subtlety of an exploding gas station. It was a huge effort and it was all for nothing.

Because the thing about being subtle is... nobody notices.

So instead of letting her know that I was patiently waiting for her to become an adult and maybe, if she decided she still didn't mind me being me I wasn't opposed to see where things would lead... well, she was sad, went with Bobby, got her heart broken by that snowflake-I still think he's gay- and went on to date every criminal under thirty within reach.

Well, to be fair, I wasn't exactly around to try my luck, so I can't complain.

Leaving my bike in the mansion's garage I head straight for the kitchen, I have fifteen minutes left, enough for a good breakfast. I can smell some bacon that is just waiting for me in the kitchen, there's coffee and toast, too. I ignore the sweet note Kitty, sorry, Sugar Puss, has left for her Babycakes.

I'll make sure to use that on Drake during the next danger room session.

But first I enjoy hos breakfast, I have to say that Sugar puss, and that I will suggest as her official codename, hell, why not Babyface, oh, Babycakes, too? Anyway, that girl does make some nice omelet. Mushrooms and cheese, pretty good. Her mom probably worked day shifts at a diner before putting on two tassels and some floss to wrap herself around a pole.

Come on, what kind of woman does that, sleep with a guy who's in a relationship? I bet the women in her family are all purebred whores.

Before I sound even more like a pissed off chick I head for the danger room and torment my students for an hour and a half before the room is filled with X-Men. Babycakes does look hungry and shoots his girlfriend an angry glance. What a bastard. Woman don't make food, man angry? He deserves to be maimed by some heavy object. How about a very angry mutant with an adamantium skeleton.

Storm starts talking and my ears shut down immediately. I've heard that sermon too many times now. Teamwork, look out for each other, be careful, yadda, yadda. This is a stupid simulation. If we were in a real fight I would keep an eye on most of these people because no matter how much they train with their little gadgets, they don't know jack about real fighting. There's only two people in here I'd love to watch getting beat up good. Not killed. Maybe just beaten beyond repair, losing a limb or two. Unfortunately I'm not allowed to do that myself unless I want to run very fast and very far away. Or wear pink ribbons.

How would you put it? Damn straight. Logan, I need to see you after this session is over. There is a mission we need to talk about.

I hope it can wait until tomorrow. There's someone I need to have breakfast with. And I swear I can hear Chuck smile.

"So everybody, let's get to the warming up. The usual pairs, and since Kurt left us today, you will pair up with Logan, Bobby."

Barely holding back a wide grin I strongly suspect that this is what a kid feels like when Santa brings him the latest Playstation. Walking over to the little prick I see him change. Well, I sense it at least. From angry to... well, he is still a little pissed off but that has to be the old grudge on the good looking older man his girlfriend was more in love with than him. But he is also scared and that is very good.

And now I grin.

"Bring it on. Babycakes."

That's all it takes. That little word sends him flying so far over the edge that all you can see is a little sparkling rainbow marking his path. I've never seen this kid so angry and he found Rogue sleeping in my bed once back when they were still together. But that was before he has started with the steroids.

"I will show you how a good doggy has to behave you fucking mutt."

And before Storm has given the signal for us to start it gets really, really cold around me.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Unfortunately the simulation couldn't take place today because two idiots fought for over an hour and had to be separated by Chuck and his mental torture. One of them is in the torture chambers downstairs with Hank right now who is tending to a broken nose and a few ribs, not to mention the pretty colorful bruises.

He called me a dog among other things. I could have lived with that easily. That is something people do when they know they don't have a fraction of a chance, they try to insult you and hope you get angry enough to make a mistake. But then he insulted Marie and I will not have that.

Bad for him that I don't make mistakes when I'm angry.

I just talked over the mission with Chuck and I will leave tomorrow afternoon. He knows I won't accept anyone as backup and he also knows I will not sit over building plans longer than I have to, but he also knows I will get the job done.

So here I am, in a car for once. It was a tough choice, but in the end I chose to leave Babycake's spiffy Porsche right where it was. Ice blue just ain't my color.

The only problem I have right now, aside from traffic, someone a few cars ahead must've died behind the wheel judging by the slow pace we're crawling down a fucking highway, well, the only problem I have right now is to decide what to do.

First I should decide if I even want anything to happen. I mean not that I don't want to, but do I? Will I listen to that damn thing inside my head telling me to to shut the fuck up and get the girl or do I listen to that little whiny idiot that keeps telling me she will wind up dead just like everyone else. If I do decide to finally kill off the latter, what then. I hate flirting, beating around the bush, I hate all that crap most women expect you to do. I prefer a more direct approach, one that will have most women shriek and slap you in the face.

First of all Marie isn't most women. And we've known each other for years now, well, we haven't seen each other in years, but still. Counts for something, right?

I turn on the radio because sometimes it works like some oracle. Sometimes, when you're trying to decide what to do and you turn on the radio it gives you an answer. Sounds silly and I'd laugh at anyone who'd say it out loud, but it worked a few times before.

What a wicked thing to do
To make me dream of you
And I don't wanna fall in love

[Cris Isaac-Wicked Game]

I groan and switch stations. That guy sounds like he dropped something heavy on his foot.

Oh if you could read my mind
You'd know you're everything I need
You'd see yourself through my eyes
You may understand what I'm going through
Just how much I want you.

Show me what its like to lose control
Free the desire in your soul
Oh oh let me love you.

[Tim McGraw-Let me Love you]

I growl and try to keep my claws where they are, I don't even know who this truck belongs to, so wrecking the stereo probably isn't a very good idea. Okay, one last try.

You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

[Alanis Morisette-Hand over Feet]

Now this goes to show that this was a stupid idea. I switch the channel again, I never liked that woman anyway. Some people think that just because I'm Canadian I like all the music they crap out up there but how many Americans like everything just because it's... Well, forget it.

Another country station and after that the radio fails me completely and all I hear is static until I pull into a parking spot right in front of the apartment building. But instead of getting out I light a cigar. Maybe I should flip a coin.