A/N By now, it's a fair assumption that many of my faithful readers think I've abandoned this story. Not quite and thank you for sticking with me. So much has conspired against me to write in any prolific way. I won't bore you with details. This chapter attempts to tie up the loose ends in the ongoing melodrama that is Logan's and Sue's personal life. No, the problems aren't solved but after this chapter, it's full focus on the mission to destroy Logan's current nemesis and Weapon Plus. That's the good news. The not so good news is I haven't even begun intelligible notes for the the upcoming chapters. Writing in the genre of action is a steep, new learning curve for me. Therefore, I make to predictions on how long it will take. I'm not going to rush myself and I am committed to the same quality writing I always strive for. Enough babble. On with:

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Second time's a charm and I don't even stumble as Wraith and I teleport into one of pens outside Xavier's barn. Movement sets of security lights blinding us for a second or two and set some of the horses to snorting.

The snowdrift up to our knees we both can do without, "What part of the barn didn't ya get?"

His breath steams in the frigid air, "Chill man. Gotta get the lay o'the land first time in. Wanna end up starin' at the ass end of a horse?"

Point taken. I chuckle and shake my head, grateful for the snowdrift instead of a manure pile or a kick in the teeth.

"Same pick up t'morrow?"

"Hell no." It's a fair hike as I lead him to the garage. A quick sequence of numbers on a keypad opens a side door.

"How 'bout here?"

Wraith exhales a low whistle, "Damn! Some fine rides ya got here." He runs a loving hand over the hood of Scott's latest toy, a metallic blue Prowler.

I snort as he asks, "Any o'these yours?" and points to the wrecked Harley in the corner.

"And that black pick-up parked outside."

He winces, "What up wi' da bike, bro'? "

"Long story."

He agrees, "Always is," and offers a handshake, "Later, Wolverine."

"Yeah. Fifteen hundred hours, me and Cyke right?"

Grinning, he nods, wavers and is gone. Now why the hell can't Kurt quit with the damn sulphur stink bamf?

Trudging to the back kitchen entrance, the weight of the day bears down hard. I feel it in the bunched muscles in my neck and shoulders. Rolling them doesn't help. Compounding it, underneath the patch, my eyeball's itching like crazy and the dull ache of healing optic nerves threatens an actual headache. What I need is a hot shower and a few hours of shut eye. Beer would be nice, too

Charles' telepathic summons, 'We're in my office,' splits my concentration. By we, I guess Charles means Summers.

Wonder if he hears my sigh?

xXx

I keep my briefing of Fury's meeting short and sweet and neither Charles nor Scott seems to bat an eye over the plan. Funny how Charles' objections over potential gratuitous violence are moot as long as he doesn't get his hands dirty. Scott is shocked that I want him in but he's pumped.

My turn to be surprised when Scott says, "Your buddy beat us to the punch with Ruchinsky."

"Who? Fury? Wha'd he do?"

"Kitty and I checked into a room next door to Ruchinsky. . ."

"What?" Scott huffs at the critical squint I shoot his direction.

"One o'the kids? 'Bout time."

"Glad you approve," he snarks. "Anyway, Ruchinsky was nowhere to be found."

Clearly ticked off, Charles adds, "Colonel Fury kindly alerted me of Ruchinsky's apprehension several hours after the fact."

I deadpan, "Nice."

I relate to Charles' irritation but I get why Fury did an end run around him. Fury's got a couple telepaths on staff that ain't quite as restrained as Charles can be when it comes gathering intelligence in a hurry. Just wish I could be there to watch them turn Ruchinsky's brains to scrambled eggs.

"Looks like we're good to go. Cyke, your shoulder gonna hold up for this?"

"You see a sling?" He pumps his arm, "No problem."

"Okay. Fifteen hundred tomorrow, in the garage for teleport."

"In uniform," Scott affirms.

I rub the back of my neck and am just about to shrug, "Negative."

There can't be anything obvious linking the X-Men to this op. And as much as Fury's helping, he better believe he doesn't own me.

I hear, 'I appreciate that, Logan,' inside my head.

I look Charles dead in the eye and say, "Nobody does."

He doesn't project or speak. Unflinching eye contact and a thin lipped, half smile tells me nothing and everything.

"SHIELD's supplyin' unmarked, camo-fatigues for whatever the terrain dictates," is all the info I have for Scott right now.

I break for the exit, "I got stuff to do before tomorrow. Later."

"May I assist in any way?"

Knee jerk reaction, I almost jump down Charles' throat to mind his own business. But, he sounds and smells sincere.

I wave him off, "It's covered." A few paces down the hall, not quite out of earshot I add, "Thanks anyway."

xXx

I sniff out my biological and step kid's hanging out in the game room yucking it up with the usual suspects over a video game. Don't get these kids sometimes. An awesome pool table, ping pong, Foosball and air hockey tables stay unused ninety percent of the time.

And don't get me started on that fuckin' Wii thing. Stupidest thing I ever seen.

Catching Matt's eye, his grin turns to a frown when I motion for him to follow me.

"Dang!" he complains and hands off the controller to Bobby. "Finish my turn, okay."

I say, "Sorry kid," as we climb the stairs for my quarters. "Gotta discuss somethin' important with ya."

He smells and sounds anxious asking, "Mom okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. She's good. So's Collin and Colleen."

"Awesome." He's curious now, "What's up?"

I keep mum 'til we're behind closed doors. Even then, I hem and haw trying to figure out how to break the news.

Staring at me, he's a mixed bag of inquisitive, uneasy and ticked off. Yeah, if I was winning the game I'd be pissed, too.

I say my piece and it's only seconds before he's fisting the air, yelling "Forget that! What for? What's mom say about this?"

I feel bad for the kid but I cross my arms, stand my ground because given a chance, I might back down.

"Truthfully, she's not too happy. But she knows, same as me, there isn't another option."

He's full of venom and disgust, "Uh huh. Ya know what? I think Travis is right."

"'Bout what?"

"You trying to keep mom all to yourself."

"Total bullshit, kid."

But I get where he's coming from. Probably feel the same myself in his place.

"No sir. I think you're the one that's full of it." Raised right, he literally shrinks back, aware he's crossed a line.

I stay cool and detached, let the kid vent.

Whipsawing between scared and pissed, it shows with a sneer and tears in his eyes, "Seriously, we can't go home. All of a sudden we can't stay at that boathouse. Now we're on some kind of freaking lock down for . . . for I dunno really what. Some bad dudes out to take over the school or something? Really?"

"And now all of a sudden, it's okay to stay with my dad? I mean, it's totally screwed up!" He slams his palms on the desktop and yelps. "Did ya forget my dad up and dumped me on my mom?"

His voice cracks, "What if I don't wanna stay with him?"

Been there and it hurts witnessing a decent young man revert back to a scared little boy.

Too riled, he shrugs off a comforting hug. I'm not put off.

"You're right, Matt, it's screwed up and you're pissed and frustrated. And ya know what? It's my fault. But, I'm workin' hard as I can to fix it. Part of that fix is keeping you safe. Safe right now means stayin' with your dad. As far as bad dudes, you better believe it."

The kid huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Sit down and listen up. I'm gonna give ya a history lesson. Comin' up on twenty years ago, I was an operative for an organization called Weapon Plus."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me. The same thing moms' dad was in? Same dudes who put the metal in you and you were like a spy or something."

Ignoring the kid's sass, I nod and keep talking, "More than a spy. We were experimented on, altered to be super soldiers, smart weapons, whatever ya wanna call it."

"Weapons Plus had - has a division called Replications. They do stuff like cloning and god knows what else. These guys are still at it, experimenting on Mutants, still tryin' to build an army of super soldiers. Wendy is . . .is; she's a victim of Reps."

Matt nods. He's heard some of this before.

"It ain't my place to tell you all the details 'bout Wendy but the bottom line is, they want me and her and prob'ly any other alpha mutant they can get their hands on."

"For what? What's an alpha mutant?"

"Alpha's have powers they control themself and ya usually can't tell from lookin' at 'em they're Mutant. I'm an alpha. So's Wendy and the Professor. Ororo's kinda borderline."

"Mister Wagner's not."

"Got it. Anyway, Reps will, for no better description, enslave 'em, and turn some of 'em into living weapons – like me."

"No way."

Popping a set of claws, I raise them in front of my face. "These things ain't just for hedge trimming, eh?"

"Yeah, but."

"No but about it. Brainwashed, with metal bones and claws, I was . . ."

I almost slip and say Stryker, "Somebody's personal WMD."

Matt's got no clue written all over his face.

"Weapon of mass destruction," I clarify

"You actually killed somebody?"

"Yeah," I mutter and look away.

Lots of somebodies but I can't – won't say it out loud.

"But that was like in a war, right?"

Gawd! Just like his mom, decent and innocent, the kid's ready with a free pass.

"Right." Talk about your lies of omission.

He looks and smells placated, maybe relieved but he's not done, "I still don't see why I gotta go to my dad's".

Jesus Christ! Use your head for something other than a hat rack.

Throttling back my impatience, I explain, "Because if they manage to attack the school before I can take 'em down, you could be killed or worse."

"Crap! What's worse than killed?"

How 'bout kidnapped? Torture with a side of mind fucking?

"Trust me, Matt. There's plenty worse than dead. Right now, I need ya to trust me when I say I'm gonna take care o'things. In a couple more days, a week at most, your mom and me will get ya back and we'll go home."

"What about Wendy? The other kids?"

"The older ones 'r trained to handle trouble. As for as the younger ones, stayin' here's their best option 'cuz most of 'em don't have any place else to go."

For lots of reasons, it's time to wind this conversation down. I nudge his shoulder, "It's gettin' late now. Your dad's coming for ya tomorrow at nine, so go on and pack up."

"Don't I get to see mom before I go?"

"Hey, you're just goin' across town. Your dad can take ya to see your mom anytime ya want."

He's got that d'oh, right look on his face.

"And while I'm gone, you're the man. I'm countin' on ya, eh."

The kid's Adams Apple bobs as he gulps and squeaks, "Yes sir," no doubt pondering just what the hell I mean.

"Everything's gonna work out. I promise." This time he accepts my hug.

xXx

"Yeah darlin', he took it okay."

From the huff on the other end of the phone, I don't think my wife believes me.

Just beyond the door I catch a ribbon of Wendy's scent.

I explain, "No, more pissed. Yeah, probably. He thinks he's gettin' a royal shaft again."

While Sue dumps on me again about releasing Matt to his dad, I ease over to the door. Phone on mute, I murmur, "Wha'daya want, kid?"

The little eavesdropper doesn't answer.

Back to my wife, "Sue, I promised you and I promised Matt, it's gonna work out. Yeah, yeah, Sandra'll be here when Allen fetches him."

Sue preaches that I don't make a scene with Allen.

"I'll try."

Hafta hold the phone away from my ear while she screeches, "No try about it, Logan. Do. Not. Make. A. Scene."

Back on mute for a second I censure, "Kid, this is a private conversation."

A meek, "I'm sorry," filters through the door and I hear the scuffing of her shoes as she puts some distance between us.

"Okay, okay. Ya have my word," is my reluctant vow to Sue not to gut, pound, pulverize or otherwise maul her ex-husband.

"You're welcome. Now, will ya get some rest? Yeah, I'll be over tomorrow morning. Soon as I know Matt's settled."

"T'night?" I sigh. "Dunno, darlin'. The back way's snowed over. Can't risk plowing, ya know?"

She wants to know what I'm gonna do tomorrow to get to her.

"Don't worry. I got it figured out."

Figuring anybody who drives out through the main gate is gonna have a tail; I plan on driving to the nearest train station, parking and riding the train. I'll go a stop or two past the hospital then double back on another train. That'll work once, maybe twice. Once is all I really need.

"Trust me and yeah, I'll be careful….. I love you too. 'Night."

"What? No I haven't called my mother yet. Thought you were goin' to. Darlin' if I had a problem with it, I'd tell ya."

Aw geeze, will give it a rest? "Really, really. Now get some rest."

Again, I answer, "You too," when she says she loves me again.

"Go. To. Sleep. Bye." I hang up before she can start harping about something else.

No surprise, the kid is back. Just for the hell of it, I ease over to the door; fling it open and growl, "This better be good."

There she stands. Arms crossed, a single eyebrow arched and a flippant smirk says I didn't startle her a single iota.

She's sincere stating, "I'm sorry but with all that's going on I really need to ask you something before you and Matt hafta go."

"Not leavin' 'til tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know but I really need to talk to you now."

"Your mom know you're here?"

"Not exactly."

"I'll take that as a no. Ar-right kid, c'mon in."

She makes herself comfy on the two seater couch. I stand beside the open door. The wide-open door that's gonna stay that way throughout this entire chat.

"What's the emergency?"

Lacing her fingers together she cracks her knuckles and takes a deep breath, "I want to see my baby brother and sister."

That's not what I expected.

"Um, okay."

I start up the hospital issued laptop and pull out the desk chair, "Check this out."

A clear picture of the twins in their isolettes covers the screen. Damn, this is really cool.

Wendy scoots forward, her nose practically on the screen, "Oh my god! Wow! There so teeny. Who's who?"

I reach around her to work the zoom function, "Blue cap for Collin."

She cuts in, "Pink for my sister." She smiles up at me, "What did you name her?"

"Colleen."

"Both start with C. Cute. Do they have middle names?"

"Geeze kid! It's Colleen Elizabeth and Collin James. Ya want their blood type, too?"

Sassy brat, she sticks the tip of her tongue out. "What color's their hair?"

"Collins' hair's is light, like Sue's. You're sis' hair is dark." Without thinking I smooth my hand over Wendy's auburn curls, "Kinda like yours."

"How come they're all wrinkly and red?"

"They gotta grow some more."

"Crazy. How much more?"

"A lot more. They weren't s'posed to be born 'til sometime in March."

"Oh my god!"

"Yeah, you could say that."

This is really cool," she gestures to the computer, "But, I meant I want to see them . . . you know, in person?

"It's a lockdown. You're stayin' right here."

Scooting the chair back, she almost runs over my boot, "That's crap and you know it."

Eyeballing me, she justifies, "Matthew's been to see them."

"True but that was more of an aside. It's his mom that got hurt in a wreck, ya know.

"I guess so, but still. I mean you found a way to sneak Matt. Can't you figure something out for me?"

"Said anything to your mom 'bout this?" I'm grasping at anything to redirect this line of conversation.

Hands on her hips, she tosses her head, "No I haven't asked and I'm not going to. She'll just say no, anyway."

"Kid, you ain't draggin' me into a game of one-up against your mom."

"If it weren't a lockdown would you let me?"

"If your mom said ok."

Here she goes with the crossed arms and that impish head toss again, "The heck with what my mom says. I can make some choices for myself."

"Yeah, you can but don't forget this; every choice has consequences. Sometimes those consequences impact people in ways you don't figure on."

She sighs and draws up her legs, balancing her feet on the chair seat, "You don't want me to get too close, do you?"

"Nah."

Damn! Lying to her ain't gonna cut it.

"Wendy . . . yes . . . and no. Once all this stuff blows over you 'n your mom are gonna be out of here. "

"So? I might still go to school here." There's an edge of desperation in her voice. "And if I didn't it's not like White Plains is that far away."

"True but you know in here," I point to her heart and then her head, "And here how your mom feels about me."

I sense equal amounts of frustration and resignation when she says, "She's just as weird about it as you are."

"Maybe but I'll tell ya one thing we both feel the same about. We wanna do right by ya."

"Don't roll your eyes. Your mom's done a great job for fifteen years all by herself and…"

Wendy cuts me off, "But I always felt like something was missing! Now I finally know what — who was missing."

My turn to fidget and stare at the ceiling thinking, don't wrap yourself up in me. It was dumb luck from the very beginning.

I close my hand over one of her shoulders, "Wendy, just because I am your biological dad doesn't make me a dad."

She clasps my outstretched arm, "I know but don't you want to? I mean, if you knew about me when I was little would you want to be my dad?"

I toss up my hands, "When you were little, I wasn't fit to be anybody's dad."

That stops her cold. Fiddling with a strand of hair, she goes quiet making a fair prune face impersonation.

Finally, she sasses, "Mom must've thought you were okay."

I smart back, " Kid, you've seen inside my mind. I'm not a nice person."

"Once you weren't. But now you are. I can feel it. And Doctor Sue wouldn't have married you if you weren't a good person."

Keep your illusions, sweetheart. Just like my wife. Just like everybody around this place.

"How about now?"

"How about what now?"

"Being my dad now."

"It ain't up to me."

"But if it was?"

Sinking into my couch, I'm about to bust a sweat measuring my thoughts and words. I pat the cushion next to me. She sits.

Making soft eye contact, I clear my throat, "First of all, there never was or will there ever be your mom and me. Not like the way I think you're thinkin'."

I smell disappointment as she sucks in a breath to say something but I shush her with a shake of my head.

"And this ain't a what-if game. There're huge complications for two families."

"Huh?"

"You and your mom, me 'n Sue. Matt, your baby brother and sis."

Staring down at her lap, she picks at her fingernails and mutters, "Yeah, I guess."

An unwelcome buzz in my head says she's surfing and she's all frown asking, "Why do you always think something bad is gonna happen?"

Leaning my head back into the cushion, I don't disguise my cynicism, "Little girl when ya've been around the block many times as me you expect the worse and hope for okay."

"So what am I supposed to do? Give up? Go away? Forget about you?"

"Ya might be better off but I guess it's too late for that, eh?"

She nods and here come the tears, "But, you promised to take care of me and mom."

I think yeah, I'll live to regret half that promise.

She looks confused and hurt. Don't wanna make her feel that way but she's asking for it surfing like she does.

I wimp out, "Nah angel, just give it time. When the danger's passed maybe your mom'll loosen up."

"Would you really?"

WTF? "Kid, I thought the Prof was teachin' ya to keep outta people's heads?"

"I can't help it. Sorry. You're so close."

"Well, knock it off, okay. And yeah, I'll work it out with your Mom. When the time's right."

The kid takes a flying leap and suddenly I'm in a neck squeeze with a cherry lip gloss flavored kiss planted on my cheek, "Thank you Daddy, thank you."

Daddy?

My first reaction is to peel her off and I think she senses it 'cuz she backs off fast.

"Don't worry," the smart aleck winks. "I won't say anything to mom or anybody."

"Wendy, I'm talkin' about you visiting the twins."

"Oh."

She sounds like she's put in her place but the expression says she's knows I'm slinging mild bull.

"The custody sharing thing, that's a conversation for another time."

"Like when?"

The angry look on her face says she's reading my unspoken sarcastic come back. Read this, princess: Yeah, I'm a chickenshit. Especially when it comes to locking horns with your mother.

"Lemme take care o'business. Then, I'll talk to her."

"You promise?"

Full caution flags deployed, I'm careful with my words, "I promise to talk to her. I can't promise what'll happen."

She exhales, twists up her pretty little mouth and mutters, "Right. Umm . . . okay."

Quick as a blink, she's back to where this all started, "So, when can I see Colleen and Collin?"

Little women with one track minds!

I laugh and tell her, "I'll work on it. Now scram, I got shit to do."

Turning back, she fires a sour expression, "Five days! Seriously?"

"What I tell ya 'bout snoopin' inside my head?"

"I'm not. You're projecting."

My turn for the stern hairy eyeball, "What am I thinking now?"

Her eyes go wide, "You wouldn't dare."

Projecting all the possible ways to whop her behind, I show my canines and warn, "Don't push it, kid."

xXx

I catch the scent about the same time I hear the click of those damned spike heels she always wears. Ignoring the soft knock on the door, I go back to reading an old Tom Clancy novel.

The second knock is insistent. "Logan, it's Marla. I need to discuss something with you."

Aw fuck. Did Wendy go and spill everything? Probably.

I snap the book shut and dry wash my face. Don't want or need this sort of distraction right now.

I don't bother getting up to open the door. "Wha'daya wanna talk about?" I call out.

"Wendy, of course."

Of course. "What about her?"

"Damn you, Logan. Open the door."

"Fine. Don't get your panties in a wedge."

"You're beyond rude."

"I try."

Swinging the door open with force makes her jump back. Her eyes go wide and she sputters, "Will you put on some clothes."

What the hell! I'm wearing jeans.

"Hey lady, this is my turf. You got a problem, too bad."

"Arrggh! I don't know why I even try."

"Yeah, well I kinda wish ya wouldn't. Now, what's so goddamn important?"

"May I come in?"

"If I say no, will ya go away?"

Pushy bitch huffs, walks right past me and makes herself comfortable on my couch.

"I'm not going to take the bait, Logan. We need to talk about. . . well, actually I'd like your opinion."

My opinion? Stunned, I get closer to her and take a sniff. Yep, it's her. No shape shifter's taken her form.

Now who's dangling bait? I cross my arms and lean against the open door frame, "'Bout what?"

"Well, before we get into the details, I just want to say I'm sorry to hear about your wife and the twins. I'm truly praying for the best outcome."

"Appreciate that."

Her sincerity takes the fun out of jerking her chain. So, I shut the door, grab a t-shirt and take the chair opposite the couch.

"I'm guessing you got some issues with the talk Wendy and I had t'night."

"Visiting the twins? Yes, she did ask and I told her she needed to wait until they were much stronger."

"So, you are okay with it?"

"By the time the twins are ready for visits, I hope to have Wendy's attentions diverted elsewhere."

"What the hell's that mean?"

"It means I'm contemplating transferring Wendy to Massachusetts Institute. That's what I want your opinion about."

"It's not a bad school but I'm really not really into hashing this over tonight."

"You don't understand. I'm contemplating transferring her immediately."

"Bad idea. That place ain't fortified."

"I'm aware of that. I discussed this with Charles. He thinks the idea is worth exploring."

"Well that just great. Looks like ya got everything all set. What ya askin' me for?"

"It's not like that. Nothing is all set. I'm asking you because….Oh never mind. I really would prefer you not have anything to do with her."

"If that were true you'd have never come here in the first place."

"Hindsight's always twenty-twenty."

"Somethin' like that. Listen Marla, I got no problems if you wanna transfer the kid. But, it can't happen 'til I fix the little problem with Reps. Which, by the way, is going down tomorrow."

"Is that why you're sending Matthew to his father?"

"Who told . . . ? Wendy mentioned it, eh?"

"She was a tad upset."

"Yeah, well, sorry 'bout that."

She's unconvinced but lets it go. "Now, what is it that's going down tomorrow?"

"Nothin' I can go into detail about, you know that. But, that's why I'm tellin' - askin' ya to wait on taking Wendy anywhere."

"I . . . I suppose a few more days makes no difference."

"A few more days makes a huge difference in keeping both of you safe."

"I have no choice but to trust you."

"Not just me. Xavier and everybody here. We will not let anything happen to you or Wendy as long as you stay put."

xXx

"Graarrgh!" I roll over and complain into the darkness.

Three fucking a.m.

Another fucking nightmare.

I give up.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I stretch. Popping joints sound like a string of firecrackers. The racket makes Susie winces every time she hears me. She doesn't believe me when I tell her it feels good.

Damn! Wish she was here right now.

I pull on a pair of sweatpants and an undershirt. Padding in bare feet down silent, dark hallways, I'm in search of don't know what.

A beer? Gargantuan sandwich?

Peace of mind?

There's dim light filtering up the back stairs leading to the kitchen. More than the usual safety light, it looks like I'm going to be company for somebody.

Sniffing the scent, I almost change my mind and head back upstairs.

Scott glances up from this weeks' copy of The New Yorker and a bowl of cereal, "Can't sleep? Nightmares?"

"Yeah. What's your excuse?"

"The same."

Chuckling, I tease, "Eating Cocoa Puffs at three in the morning'll give anybody nightmares."

He flips the bird to my back as I rummage through the refrigerator.

He goes back to reading and I build myself that gargantuan sandwich. Ham, roast beef, liverwurst, swiss and cheddar cheese with a smear of Dijon and Mayo between thick slices of rye bread and I'm a half happy camper. A beer'd make me whole but my private stash is out and this kitchen ain't on the list of stops for the beer fairy.

Settling for bottled ice tea, I swing a leg over a stool and park opposite Scott at the counter.

He grimaces, "Geeze, did ya leave anything off that thing?"

I say, "The rabbit food," and chomp down.

He grins then picks of his bowl and slurps the chocolate flavored milk and cereal dregs. Pushing the empty to the side, he smells uneasy as he folds then straightens the edge of the magazine.

I cock an eyebrow his direction but he looks past me.

I set my sandwich down. "What?"

"This is the, um, first chance we've had to talk privately. I owe you an explanation."

"'Bout what?"

"Your sister and I. Why we broke up."

Of the few things Scott might have to discuss in private with me, this is not what I figured on.

Party serious, I ask, "Need me to snatch the bourbon from Charles' study?"

He half-heartedly reprimands, "Mission tomorrow."

Scratching my scalp, "Is it no booze twelve feet from take off or no smokin'? I always mix that up," makes him grin.

"You're an ass, Logan."

I salute him with my ice tea bottle, "I'll admit I'm curious but you don't owe me squat. It's your business."

Ignoring what I say, he rambles, "We were doing great. She was happy. So was I . . . or I thought I was. Then, this stuff blew up in our face about Wendy. You know what I'm saying?"

Chewing, I nod and keep listening.

"I mean, you can't be engaged to somebody when you're still in love with somebody else, ya know?"

The ghost of someone else? I do know because for a long time I was in love with a ghost.

I say, "Jeannie," with a nod.

He answers, "Yeah but there's more," as he shuffles over to the sink to wash his dishes.

"Hey, I told ya this ain't any o'my business."

Over running water, he mutters, "If you want to punch me in the face, I won't stop you."

Now what the hell could he possibly hafta say that'd make me wanna punch him in the face? His business or not, this I gotta hear.

"Eh?" I grunt as non-committed as possible.

"I think the reason . . . no, I know the reason I hooked up with Julie was to piss you off."

I think, hate to tell ya bub, but that ain't exactly breaking news.

He's going to wash the glaze right off that cereal bowl.

"Along the way, I realized I really like and respect her. And there's that whole incompatible career thing. No way was she giving up hers. Same with me. We'd end up spending most of our time apart."

Gonna wear a hole in the towel, Scooter.

"Even without factoring Jean into the situation, Julie and I were on different tracks going in opposite directions. I don't even know how the whole engagement thing happened. Sort of like an unstoppable freight train."

Don't ya mean train wreck?

"Tell me Queen Elizabeth wasn't the engine running it?"

"Huh? Queen Elizabeth?"

"My mother."

He snorts, "Oh yeah. She always like that?"

"Far as I can remember."

Tossing the dish towel on the counter, he commiserates, "Phew!"

He finally makes eye contact, "But anyway, Julie and I both came to our senses. It's actually kind of ironic. For all our differences, we brought up breaking up at almost the same time."

I offer, "No harm, no foul, eh?" for lack of anything else. Beats tellin' him I really don't give a flyin' fuck.

Actually I do but not for the reason he might think. "So, you got your head straight for this mission?"

"Coming from a guy who's got his wife and newborns in the hospital, they guys who's recently discovered a long lost daughter with a load of baggage and a mother who's an ex-girlfriend….."

"Marla ain't an ex-girlfriend."

"Okay, ex-fuck buddy. Heap on getting blown up, almost killed a couple weeks ago. Did I miss anything?"

I chuckle, "Probably, but who's keepin' track?"

"Speaking of, how's your eye?"

Pushing aside the patch reveals an almost normal looking eye. The pupil remains dilated making any kind of light painful. "I'm startin' to see shadows."

He nods. "And you're asking if my head's straight?"

Lacing my fingers and stretching palms out, I crack my knuckles and exhale. "We both got a lot o'baggage going into this mission and while the team's skilled, they won't have our backs same as we'll have each others."

"Same thought crossed my mind."

"Their end game's not the same, either."

"You think it'll be a problem?"

"Hope not cuz anybody get's in my way's gonna end up collateral damage."

"You are serious about killing Diebel."

"With these," I slide the claws from my left hand. "Dissect him real slow, piece by piece. Won't come close to the sufferin' he put me through but I'll take what I can get."

"There was a time when I couldn't understand that kind of hatred, didn't feel such overpowering lust for revenge. But…." Scott hangs his head, seems to swallow back his stomach. "When Stryker and his goons kidnapped the Professor and me, the kids. And then what he let his goons do to Jubilee…."

His voice trails off.

"Then he dosed me with his mind fuck drugs and made me…" He chokes, "Almost kill Jean…. "

"Puttin' 'em down hard is the only justice."

"Makes me sick to know you're right. Depresses me the Professor won't see it."

Weird! Scott's wallowing in guilt so thick I could cut it with my claws. Misplaced guilt, if anybody asks me.

"Cut y'self a break. Charles gets it."

Scott bows his head, his voice an apologetic whisper, "Sometimes I wonder."

"Nothing wrong with that, Scott. We're screwed if we lock-stepped with any one member of the team."

He nods.

"I don't always agree with Charles but I respect him for stickin' to his convictions. I tell ya this, too. I got no doubts that if it came down to it, he'd kill to protect everybody in this school."

Elbows on the table, propping up his chin, Scott looks like a school kid taking in a lecture.

I'm talking true but maybe I'm laying it on a little heavy. I clam up, finish my sandwich while Scott seems to gnaw on the inside of his cheek, digesting more than cereal.

Even when it's quiet, it's never really silent. The refrigerator motor whines. Drops of water from the leaky faucet plink into the stainless steel sink. Heat whooshes through the ceiling ductwork. That obnoxious kitchen mouse skitters through the pantry wall.

Finally, pushing back from the breakfast bar, the stool screeching against ceramic tile, Scott stretches and sighs, "Is it wrong to hope that what we're doing will keep him from having to prove it?"

"'Til the next bad guys come along."

Another dry laugh, "You make Murphy seem like a fucking optimist."

xXx

Been sitting here watching while Matt does his damndest to ignore me. Immersed for the past hour, he playing a video game – badly, I'm not imagining feeling like he just as soon I dropped off the planet.

Sandra, our attorney, well, Sue's attorney, delivered the finalized paperwork. She managed to strong arm Allen into scaling back on the custody stuff. In writing, signed and sealed, the scumbag agrees that the arrangement reverts to the original one as soon as we move into a 'domicile separate from Xavier's School for Gifted Children'.

It's a mouthful of legal bullshit but it works and when the time is right I fully intend to grab for a mile and run with it. Said separate domicile from Xavier's is a house I intend to build for Sue and all our kids on the ridge looking down on the reservoir. Technically separate from the school, it's still tucked safe on the property, protected by the perimeter force field and yours truly.

Matt's making like a brick wall so I save my breath explaining any details.

I hear the gate chimes trill downstairs. I don't hear someone answer over the intercom, mostly because I'm not listening hard, but it's happening. Not much later, I hear footsteps on the stairs and a knock on the door.

"Logan," it's Rogue playing receptionist today. "There's somebody, a couple somebody's that want in."

Anxious, Matt glances at the door and cusses under his breath.

Through the door, I instruct, "Tell 'em to wait."

With the lockdown, before Allen and his entourage can come through the gates, Vic and I gotta shake 'em down. I'm not exactly in a big hurry.

"Oh, and Marie, give Vic heads up too."

"Sure thing," sounds like show-ah thang when Marie says it.

Hoisting one of his bags over my shoulder, I ask my step-son, "Ya ready?"

Without a word he slams the video controller down and yanks out the cord. From the way he stuffs it into its case, I'm not sure it'll work next time.

Not my problem.

Immaculately dressed as usual, Charles meets us at the bottom of the main stairs in the foyer. A serene smile is plastered on his face, "I'm happy to sit and chat with Matthew for a bit."

Lurking not far, I smell Wendy. Glancing in her direction I nod for her to come out of hiding.

"I wasn't hiding," she defends. "I just wasn't sure if I should be around."

Got nothing to say so I shrug. Things can't get any more fucked up, so she might as well hang out. From the grin on his face and hug he gives, Matt's not objecting.

Getting some mixed signals from these two. Of the cozy variety, might hafta keep an eye on that later.

Vic and I take our time driving the mile and a half to the main gate. "Mi dios," he laughs. "You'd think it's a Presidential motorcade or something."

"No shit," I agree.

Definitely overkill with police squad cars leading and tailing. Here's Allen in his Lexus behind the first cop car. Next, in a gray Mercedes is another stern looking business suit. Fourth in line is a plain white Ford with some kind of crest painted on the side door. In an arc overtop of the crest it reads: County of Westchester. The bottom reads: Child Protective Services.

Little bit paranoid there, Al?

Bringing up the rear though not part of the it is Sandra, our attorney.

Vic checks ID's and I sniff for anybody trying to pull something over. Namely, one of our usual gate spies impersonating a cop or CPS personnel.

Everything seems copacetic until I make it clear this entire motorcade ain't having access to the property. Everybody has their hissy fits and stare downs. The lawyers earn their bonuses, but in the end it's Allen and the lawyers who get through.

Gotta give myself a pat on the back. I didn't cuss anybody out – much and I didn't molest, punch or otherwise maul anybody. Susie would approve.

Allen's doing his best to be a holier than thou son of a bitch. Using his lawyer as a mouthpiece, he obviously can't be bothered to speak directly to me or Vic. Well, I got something to say to the great Doctor Harris and it ain't going be filtered through his lawyer.

A peanut gallery's formed on the landing overlooking the foyer. The mood's about as cheery as watching a convict being sentenced.

Pokerfaced, Charles wheels forward. No one but me senses the grimness, checked anger as he offers handshakes, "Doctor Harris, Mister Goldstein, Sandra, good day to you all."

"Thank you, Professor." It's Allen's attorney again.

Finally, Harris quits acting like his shit don't stink. He smiles and opens his arms, "Hey Matty. Are you ready to come home?"

The kid stares at his father like the guy's gone demented. I can smell the reluctance as he trudges the distance to accept the embrace, "Hey, dad."

Keeping an arm around the boy's shoulders, Allen zero's in on Wendy, "Who's your friend?"

"This is Wendy, dad. She's, um…."

Matt glances at me. I give an okay nod. But before he can explain, Wendy jumps right in. "I'm Wendy Jennings. Logan's my dad."

Nervous, Matt speaks again, "Yeah, that makes her my step-sister. I think."

Allen studies Wendy, tracks eyes to me and then back to Wendy, "The resemblance between father and daughter is certainly striking. Nice to meet you, young lady."

"You don't really mean that, do you?"

That's my girl. Nail it right between the eyes.

A couple gasps and smothered giggles flow from the peanut gallery. I cough to keep from laughing as Allen's mouth drops open wide enough to use as a snow shovel. Matt grins and winks at her.

"Excuse me," Allen splutters.

"Wendy's a telepathic empath," Matt explains to his father.

"Matt! Empathic telepath," Wendy corrects.

Matt shrugs, "Sooorrreee," and clue his disinterested father in to Wendy's powers.

Quietly maneuvering out of Allen's peripheral vision, I make a zip-it sign across my mouth aimed at Wendy. At about the same time I hear, This isn't helpful, Miss Jennings.

Damn! I had no idea Charles could broadcast on two channels at once.

Wendy stares back at him then me, briefly defiant then yielding, "I apologize for misusing my powers."

She ain't sorry but nobody can smell that except me. Charles can probably read her but he makes nothing out of it.

Wendy breaks the impasse by wrapping Matt in a hug, "Gotta get to class, bro'. See ya soon."

"'Kay. Text me when the lockdown's over."

"I will." Her goodbye trails as she skips down the hall leading to the classroom wing.

He waves at the peanut gallery, "Thanks guys. Catch ya later."

Jubilee shouts out, "Dude, you're not gettin' away that fast," as she zips down the banister.

Monkey see, monkey do, the kids descend and lay kisses or handshakes and smart-alecky good-bye's on Matt.

Soon as order's restored, Allen approaches Charles, "I thank you for the hospitality shown to my son."

He glances at Goldstein who produces a thin envelope from his breast pocket and hands it over. "I took the liberty of determining what a weeks' tuition is, plus a tidy bonus. Please take this draft as reimbursement for Matt's care."

"This isn't necessary. We don't charge tuition to students of faculty or staff."

"Well then, take it as a contribution to the school. I'm sure you can put it to good use."

Low down cocksucker! The guy's trying to buy Charles off.

"Considering the circumstances, I'm afraid I must decline your generosity. I'm sure you and Mister Goldstein understand."

Aw c'mon Chuck. Just tell him to stuff it up his ass and rotate. Judging the slightest twitching of a single jaw muscle and pitch of his chin, I know he wants to.

"I quite understand," Allen relents. "I salute your integrity, Professor Xavier."

Charles reply's an ice cold, "Indeed."

Looking like he smells something foul, Allen turns to me but won't make eye contact, "Your cooperation in this difficult situation is appreciated. I hope you'll convey to Susan that everything went without incident."

Before I can answer, he's focused back on Matt, "These your bags?"

The kid nods and slings a backpack over one shoulder. As if on cue, Goldstein grabs the remaining suitcases.

"Hang on a sec, Dad." Dropping the backpack, Matt bounds across the foyer.

An arms' length away from me, he hesitates. "I didn't really mean it when I said you were full of it."

Thrusting out his right hand, I take it and grab him into a hug.

"No worries kid. See ya next week."

Veins popping out on his forehead and fire in his eyes, if the kids' father had Cyclops' abilities, he'd knock me clean into next week.

Snatching Matt's pack, there's gravel in Allen's voice, "C'mon son."

I let go of the kid but I'm not done, "Hey, Al. I'd like to have a word with ya."

Lid on the anger, now I sense fear, "Another time, perhaps."

Ignoring me, he fakes cordiality, "Again, thank you Professor Xavier. We'll be on our way."

Not 'til I say so, bub.

Crossing my arms, his only way out is through me, "It'll only take a minute. I just need to um, convey something on Sue's behalf."

Goldstein butts in, "Doctor Harris is under strong advisement to communicate through or with an attorney present."

"No problem with that. Join the party, bub. Charles, mind if we borrow your office for a minute?"

"By all means. Sandra, cup of tea?"

"I'll take a rain check, Charles. I think I need to stick by my client for a few minutes."

I'm the perfect host, holding the door and letting the guest of honor go first, then Sandra and Goldstein. Taking my time, I let them mill around, figure if they want to sit or stand.

Pleasantries over, I slam the door.

"Sandra, have a seat." No real beef with her, I add, "Please."

"Al, Goldstink. Park it."

"Goldstein," he chafes. "Mister Logan, do you have issues with Jews?"

Is he fucking kidding? "You got issues with Mutants?"

Got his number. His eyes hit the floor and he makes like a clam.

Sticking to his client like a Siamese twin, Goldstein and Allen sit on the two-seater couch.

I don't sit. I want the psychological advantage of standing over them.

Sandra pipes up, "Logan, we didn't discuss this."

"No, we didn't. Your option to stay or go. I won't hold it against ya either way."

I watch the muscles in her throat bobble. "I'll stay."

Goldstein whips out a cell phone, "I'm going to record this.

Indifferent, I shrug. Next, I cross my arms and measure my steps until I'm boot tips to polished wing tips, lording over Allen.

"Listen up Al ol' pal. The only reason Matt's going with you is 'cuz it's safer for him."

"You got a lot of nerve."

"You ain't listening if yer flappin yer lips."

"You're right." He makes to stand up. "And I'm not listening to another word."

Want to wring this assholes neck, but if I lay a finger on him, Matt is screwed. Growling, I display the canines and he shrinks back. Does he need an absorbent pad under his backside?

"You fuck with Matt, make him unhappy, leave him in the lurch like the other night, you're gonna answer to me."

"Are you threatening my client?" Goldstein's trying to sound intimidating but he's about ready to piss himself.

"Same goes for Susie. You're ever the cause for her to cry or even cuss your sorry ass, I'll carve out your goddamn heart. We clear on that?"

To Goldstein, I clarify, "Get this on your recorder. I'm not threatening. I'm making an iron-clad promise."

I'd pop the claws but that'd dig me in deeper than I already am. 'Sides, they ain't worth the pain.

Straightening my posture, striding backwards to the door and flinging it open, I point to Goldstein and Harris, "Now get the fuck out o'here."

They look like two thirds of the Three Stooges falling over themselves to escape.

Sandra slumps in the chair, shaking her head. I go to her and clasp a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks lady."

She glares at me, "I'm sure you know the phrase, screwed the pooch."

"Just depends on how ya look at it, darlin'."

"Uh huh. Well, don't be looking for me to make a silk purse out of this sows ear."

"C'mon. I thought I kept a damn good reign on it."

"As you said, depends on how you look at it."

"Fair enough. Gotta go."

I'm just out the door before I remember something important. From the inner pocket of my jacket I pull out a wrinkled envelope and drop it in her lap.

"I gotta go somewhere. If I don't come back, I want ya to make sure the stuff I wrote down gets taken care of."

"What is this?"

"It's a list of my assets and a Will."

"Who drew this up?"

"I did. It's real simple. Everything I got goes to Sue. It's legal and it's notarized."

"Good God, Logan! What are you getting into?"

"You don't wanna know."

She stands and offers her hand. As I take it, she pulls me in, "Whatever it is, be careful and peace be with you."

Don't quite know what to say, so I nod, pull back and head out.

xXx

There he is. I see my hubby through the glass scrubbing and gowning.

Lifting a corner of the blanket I coo, "Here comes your daddy," to my baby girl nestled between my bare breasts.

Colleen wriggles as her rose bud lips form a yawn.

Good grief! Did he use an egg beater on his hair? Must've forgot to charge his beard trimmer.

Oh leave it, Sue. He looks beat. Poor baby. Bet he hasn't slept worth beans.

Hmm! The eye patch is gone.

First thing through door, he says, "Lookin' good, darlin'," and plants a kiss on my lips.

Liar. I'm pale and fat and my hair's a wreck. "Thanks."

The sound of a new voice startles the baby. Her jerky movement forces the blanket to slip lower.

"Ditched the patch, I see. I'm glad."

Logan moderates the volume, "Oh whoa, baby darlin'. Sorry. Can't see too much out of it yet."

"What's Hank say about that?"

"Haven't asked."

Stroking her fuzzy skin, he's got the oddest expression, "Sue, whatcha doin'?"

"What do you mean? I'm holding the baby?"

"Yeah, I see that. But your half naked and so's she. I mean, don't get me wrong, I could look at your tits twenty-four, seven, But, what's up with this?"

I giggle and re-adjust the cover, "It's called Kangaroo Care."

Another weird look.

"I kid you not, hon. It's one of the best therapies there is for preemies. Helps my milk come in, too."

"If you say so."

He takes the vacant recliner next to mine, "How ya feelin'?"

"I feel fine sitting, standing or laying down. It's getting in those positions that's going to kill me."

He nods but I get the impression he doesn't quite understand. No matter. I've got another pressing topic to pick at.

"How'd it go with Matthew?"

He hesitates and I notice he casts his eyes down, "Not too bad. Allen's and his cum for brains attorney are in one piece."

Ick! Some days I coud do without his vivid descriptions. "But?"

"But nothin'. I kept my word even when the bastard tried to buy Charles off."

"Say what?"

"Yeah. Started with offering to pay tuition for the week, plus bonus. When Charles wouldn't take that, Al called it a donation."

"God! That's almost as bad as him taking change out of the collection plate at church."

"Yer kiddin'."

"Nope. He actually did that at Matthew's first Holy Communion. I was mortified."

"I'd 've called him out."

"That'd be hysterical."

Feeling a twinge, I shift my position. "Guess what, papa bear? Baby holding one-oh-one."

"Not like that!"

"Like what?"

"With my shirt off."

I laugh softly. "No, no. Well, you could. All that fur'd be an awesome blankie."

"Better 'n the finest sable."

"Uh no. She doesn't get a mink 'til I do." I flash him a sexy wink, "I have one all picked out at Kaufmans."

Clutching his chest and jeans pocket, he mimes a heart attack.

Lowering Colleen to my lap, I swaddle her up tightly. "I really wasn't joking about moving around so lean over and take her, please."

There's a glint of panic in his eyes, "Yaaah, no."

For a guy whose moves in the Danger Room are pure artistry, it's comical to watch him situate himself for a simple baby pass. Poor man, he's a statue as I place our daughter in his arms.

Warning, "Just watch the tube," it's not difficult to fix, but I don't want him to accidently kink or detach the baby's oxygen.

"Oh shit!"

"You're doing fine. Breathe, honey."

"I'm okay."

"Might be more comfortable if you sit."

"Right."

You'd think it's the worlds' greatest effort as he inches backwards and eases into the chair. Realizing neither of them crumbled to dust, he breaks out in a wide grin. "Yeah, that wasn't so bad."

"You'll be handling both of them in no time."

Me too, as soon as my shoulder's healed from the wreck.

He chuckles, "Yeah." But, he doesn't sound like he believes it.

"I need a potty break. You going to be okay?"

"What'll I do if she cries?"

"Rock her."

"Oh! Yeah."

He's got that panicked look again.

"Logan, the call button's looped over the arm rest. Buzz the nurse if you need to."

xXx

Okay. I can handle this. I mean, the kid's your basic lump. Wrapped up like she is, couldn't move if she wanted to.

Nothing to worry about.

"Hello, sweet lil' princess. Looks like it's just you 'n me, eh?"

I glance at Collin, sleeping in his plastic crib, "Can't forget your brother."

Damn. I think I really would like to hold 'em both. All these tubes are a definite logistical problem. Takes a bit of maneuvering but I untangle one arm and buzz the nurse.

A pretty smile on her face, LaDonna sweeps into the room, "Gosh darn, I lost the bet with your wife."

"Yeah. What would that be?"

"She bet you'd buzz."

I joke, "Fine thing when a stranger's got more faith in me than my wife. She didn't happen to qualify a reason, eh?"

"No."

"Ya might still collect then cuz there ain't any problem. Any chance you could bundle up my boy and lemme hold 'em both?"

"Absolutely."

In less time than it would take me to unzip, piss and zip up, she's got my son blanketed and ready to hand over.

"They're not heavy but let me suggest a pillow on your lap for support. You'd be surprised how quickly your arms cramp in that awkward position."

"Whatever ya say."

"Don't worry about his breathing tube. You'd have to really tug on it to cause a problem."

She lowers him into the crook of my right arm. "Just support his head."

"Right," I say and shift my body.

"That's right." She adjusts Colleen for me. "Perfect."

"Yeah." I can't quit smiling.

My boy cracks open a single eye and wiggles before he's back to his snooze. The scent coming from both of them is pure trust and peace. I want some of that.

"Mister Logan, can I take a picture?"

"What for? Wha'daya gonna do with it?"

"Lots of parents like to document special milestones. Like the first time you hold your child. So, we make little keepsake albums for our NICU families."

"Yeah, I guess so. Kinda think Sue ought to be in the picture, though."

"We got a few pictures of her earlier this morning. We'll be glad to take some more with all of you."

"Fair enough. Have a ball. And if you don't tell I buzzed, I won't."

She flashes a grin and a wink.

xXx

"There's a chance I won't be back before you're out o'here."

With the twins back under the weird lights for the jaundice shit, Sue and I are back in her room noshing on muffins from our favorite coffee shop that I stopped off for.

"I figured that was more likely than not. No worries, though. Aunt Colleen is definitely coming. She's supposed to call me back later today to firm up the date."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll make sure Charles knows. Have a room ready for her."

"No, no. I've been a busy little bee on the phone arranging things."

There's a long pause and I smell a tinge of anxiety. Fast as a nervous magpie, she says, "We're setting up housekeeping in the boathouse."

"Uh no" I mumble and gulp a dry hunk of banana-walnut muffin "We talked about this before. You're stayin' in the mansion 'til I get back."

"No dear, I'm not. And I'm hiring contractors to start on repairs to our house."

Coffee splashes out of the cup I set down too hard on the table. "Goddammit Sue! What do I gotta do to make you understand the boathouse ain't secure."

She harps, "The only way I'd be more secure is if you locked me up underground."

"Now you're talking."

"Don't be a smart ass."

"Then you starting usin' your brains and quit turning this into a power struggle."

"I am and it's not a power struggle."

I can't sit still for this. Shoving back on my chair it almost topples. Pacing, I'm thinking I don't need this shit. Is she stupid? Nah, she's freakin' hormonal. That's gotta be it.

I'm as close to begging as I'll ever be. Sucking in a deep breath, I force myself back into the chair. I brush a lock of hair off her forehead then stroke her cheek with my knuckle.

Keeping my voice even and soft, I plead, "Look at me darlin'."

Her eyes dart away then settle back to me.

"Please, please stay in the mansion. Just 'til I get back. After that, I work twenty-four seven makin' the repairs to the house m'self. I promise."

She bows her head and shudders. Taking hold of my hands, she raises her eyes, "It's that important to you?"

Lacing my fingers in hers, I nod.

Her voice wavers, "I don't want to fight, especially now. Maybe you're right about the power struggle thing."

I think, I know I'm right but just chuckle, "It's okay. I want back in a home of our own just as bad as you."

"Honestly, it's probably only going to be a day or two. We'll stay in the mansion 'til you come back."

xXx

The clock's winding down. Things are as settled as they're ever going to be.

Snuggled together on the hospital bed, we're quiet, loving each other with our eyes. Sue runs her hands over my cheek, twists strands of my hair around her fingers. I hold her close, pressing kisses in her hair, on her forehead, tip of her nose, her warm lips.

Necking, power snuggle, making out, whatever ya call it, it's a piss poor substitute for making love. It is what it is, though and I guess it'll be that much sweeter when I can lose myself in her soft body and loving heart.

Thinking, I ought to write that down, I chuckle and she asks, "What?"

"Nothin'," and I shush another question with a kiss.

She'd doing a fantastic job not outwardly showing her fear. But, I know she's scared to death about the mission. If I had any sense, wasn't what I am, I should be, too.

Right now, all I want is to get to it, get it done. I'm a warrior and she's a warrior's wife. This is how it goes. We revel in the peaceful, good times, cope with duty and do our best to deny the what-ifs.

Fuckin' strange I'm even thinking this shit. Never used to. Never mattered. I guess joining the real world, being domesticated, settling down does that.

I whisper, "Darlin', it's time," softly in her ear.

"I know."

We clutch each other and kiss deeply. She smiles through wet lashes.

"I love you. Call me soon as you can."

"Count on it."

I'm proud and grateful she doesn't make a scene. I'm in awe of her mettle to not go to mush because I swear to the fates, this ain't good bye.

She helps me on with my jacket. I pull her into one more kiss, "I love the twins. I love you." Then, backing away our hands reluctantly break contact.

Now it's time to compartmentalize. Turning my back to my mate, the woman I love, I leave. I bypass the nursery. I don't acknowledge anyone as I stride the corridors. By the time I reach the final exit, I become that warrior, release the animal. I am Wolverine with a solitary goal in mind.

I will kill Luc Diebel. I will terminate Weapon Plus. I will live to brag about it.

XXX

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