Author's Note: Normally I wait a little longer, but a positive review does wonders for my willingness to write :)
Logan stirs up more trouble. Enjoy!
Xavier Institute, Teacher's Lounge.
Logan lay back in the recliner, facing the boob tube. Someone on some news channel was saying something really stupid and ignorant. He was actually watching a housecat playing with a brown paper bag. His hand held a bottle of liquor, and it held just a swish of whiskey. The rest was currently under attack from the Wolverine's digestive system. He tended to drink a whole bottle of liquor just to feel its effects for at most an hour. His body was making his alcoholism very hard for him. But all that aside, he was drunk and giggling. That cat was just so darn cute.
Henry McCoy was also present in the lounge, actually watching the television. His mind could barely fathom the sad state of his nation. But at least that Watergate thing was done. "Logan, is it?"
"Yeah, bub," Logan replied. He was feeling like a kind drunk, so socializing seemed very pleasant. "You're that Beast guy, arrrrrrrrrrr'nt ya?" He was also feeling kind of like a pirate.
Taken off guard by such silly behavior, Henry said, "uhhh, call me Hank."
The two shared a very awkward moment. Henry decided to try a more civilized approach to conversation. "They tell me that adamantium completely covers your skeleton."
"Yup," Logan said. He produced a set of claws. "Care to see?"
Henry walked over to Logan and accepted his offer. Always the type to have a magnifying glass handy, Henry took Wolverine's hand and inspected the metal claws. "Logan, there are tiny dents in these."
"Like you don't have tiny dents all over yer bones," Logan said defensively. "They're actually more like battle scars. Each one of those is when I got hit by something that can dent adamantium."
Henry stood up and told him, like a good doctor, "Those will weaken the structural integrity of your endoskeleton. Your claws will be easy to fix, but the rest of your body…"
"Hey let's not talk about the rest of my body, bub," Wolverine said. "I like the idea about fixing the claws though. Can you give them a sharpening?"
"Only if you want to end up with some of the sharpest edges the world has ever seen," Henry said with a smile.
Logan proclaimed, with a wink, "Yarrrr, that would be grrrrrrand!" He proceeded to finish off his bottle of whiskey. Henry decided to leave the room on a high note, and excused himself to go work. Feeling surrounded by workaholics, Logan moved the bag closer to the cat, who once again decided to play with it. He watched it until he felt his buzz wear off, and went to go have himself a few TV dinners.
Coincidentally, Jean walked into the kitchen at that same moment. She found him rummaging through the contents of the freezer, uttering colorful words like, "what the fuck?" and "what is this bullshit?" He turned and saw Jean. He was planning on saying something about what happened earlier that day, but was preoccupied with finding a decent meal. "Jean, where the fuck is the meat?" His eyes were very serious.
Annoyed by such brutish behavior, Jean said, "The teachers decided to designate that refrigerator the vegan refrigerator. You'll have to go down to the cafeteria kitchen to find some meat."
Logan heard her clearly, but was unfamiliar with the idea of a vegan refrigerator. "What is a vegan refrigerator?"
Jean sighed. She thought she wouldn't have to explain the tenets of vegetarianism to anyone like this again. "Ororo, Professor Xavier, John Proudstar, Dr. McCoy, and I are vegans. A vegan is someone who has decided not to eat meat, nor consume any product that somehow involves an animal."
Logan was getting tired of hearing things he didn't understand. What the fuck is a John Proudstar? he thought to himself. He gave up and got a few boxes of frozen spaghetti. He shoved them all in the microwave and turned it on. Grumbling, he opened the fridge and saw lots of beer. He looked to Jean, very confused, "What do vegans do with so much beer?"
"It's not just for the vegans, Logan," she said, learning to be amused at the situation. "Other people use it too. Kurt, Sean, and Shiro are brewers."
Not wanting to question the situation any further, he grabbed a collection of bottles, trying to get a sampling of each brew. These X-Men seemed to have the best of everything, so why would the beer be any different?
He took up a stool and cracked open the first brew. "You guys are really amazing for a crew of goody-two shoes."
"We're a bit more than that," she said, comfortably forgetting to be mad at him for that game they played earlier. "We go out there and we fight the good fight."
"How many times have you fought the good fight?" he asked.
"We fight some of the most dangerous villains all the time."
Logan cracked open the second brew. "You fight the same guys more than once?"
"Yes…"
"What is this, a game? Would they kill you if they got the chance?"
"Maybe," she said.
"That's fucking retarded. If you get in a life-or-death fight with someone then you need to make sure it only happens once. If it happens twice, that's another chance you got at getting killed."
"It's not so simple."
"Yes it is."
Silence followed. Wolverine cracked open a third brew and handed it to Jean. Then he cracked open a fourth brew. She instinctively took his beer, even though she hardly drank. She tried to ask herself what she was doing, but couldn't get an answer. "Well, we're just not killers."
"You're a bunch of peaceniks at war," he grumbled.
"I suppose you're right. But we need to be careful not to become the problem that we fight."
He grunted. She was right too. It was time to change the subject. "Look, I really like your base of operations here. It's got some really neat stuff. I'm flattered that Xavier wants me to join the crew, but you don't really see me fitting in here do you? I'm not a teacher. I'm not a student. I can't really have any fun in this place. I wouldn't amount to anything here other than an attack dog."
"Why can't you be a teacher? Why can't you be a student? There are many things that can be taught here, and still more left to teach. Our students could benefit from survival training, and I think you'd really like teaching them."
"I'm not a boy scout troupe leader," he cracked open a fifth brew. It was the tastiest so far, and he downed the whole thing at once. He then cracked open a sixth brew.
"Well, you've got the skill set for it."
"You'd trust a bunch of kids to me?"
"What, would you lead them into the woods and tell them to dodge your advances?"
Logan let out a hearty laugh. His hand slapped the countertop and he finished his beer. He cracked open a seventh brew.
"Who knows what I'll do if I don't get any action otherwise."
Jean finished her beer. Logan cracked open an eighth brew and tossed it to Jean. He cracked open a ninth brew for himself, and quickly finished the previous one.
"So what's ol' one-eye like in real life?"
"He's a very good man. He's smart, and strong, and sensitive. Courageous too. If you two didn't hate each other, you'd like each other."
"Likely. So, does he do it for ya?"
"That's none of your business Logan." That meant no. Logan cracked open a tenth brew.
"Yeah, the sensitive guys are like that sometimes. Someone should check him for balls."
Jean spat out some beer and let loose a very inappropriate laugh. She wasn't feeling herself. Logan cocked an eye toward her and finished his beer. He cracked open an eleventh brew. This one was the best so far. "I take it you have, then?"
"Yes…" she said, and gathered herself as best she could. "I counted two. If you look closely at his crotch when he's in uniform you'll see them."
Logan laughed again. He cracked open a twelfth brew and slid it over to Jean. She hadn't finished her other beer yet, but did so then and there. She gave him a serious look and said, "I can't go this fast, Logan. You're too good a drinker."
"I never took you for a fast woman," he said, winking. "I just thought you had a thing for short guys."
"Please Logan, I do not have a thing for you. And even if I did, I love Scott, who I also happen to have a thing for."
He cracked open a thirteenth brew. "Jean, you need to stop kidding yourself. Why do you think you randomly found me here? You're psychic; you know where I am. Why did you come over to me if you just wanted to remind me how much you love Scott. I think you want to be close to me. It's the strong combination of my natural beauty and charm."
"You mean charrrrrrrrm?" she said, giggling. She just now realized she had been drunkenly looking through his mind. She just now realized she was drunk.
Logan laughed loudly. "Oh, don't tell me you don't want to be a pirate. To have the freedom to do anything you want and not having to explain yourself, because you're a fucking pirate. Wouldn't it be great to do just whatever you wanted all the time? And do whoever you want?"
"It's whomever. Use whom when it's an object of something."
He sat quietly, feeling something. He felt a light pressure on his chest, tracing the lines of his pectorals. He looked at Jean, who was shifting around in her seat, unconsciously gyrating her hips. She bit her lip and one of Logan's buttons came undone. He sat still and saw her irises turn red. The next button of his shirt got loose. He got up and walked to her. She looked up at him from her stool. She undid another button. Logan inhaled deeply, savoring in her natural scent, as well as the wonderful scent of her arousal. He growled and leaned in to her. Another button got unfastened.
He leaned in further and bit her on the back of her neck, as firmly as possible without drawing blood. She let out her breath and held his head, encouraging him further. His hands ran along her chest, and he grasped her breast through her shirt. His fingers went over the top of the shirt and he grasped it, wondering whether or not he should tear it off. "More, Logan. Give me more…"
He remembered those words from their first time in the Danger Room. He wondered if it was dangerous to actually fuck such a powerful psychic entity. But he loved danger. He ripped her shirt open. Her mouth found his and she pulled him in for a deep and wet kiss. The wet membranes touching got her very excited, and she reached for his cock.
Jean suddenly realized what was happening. "Logan, I can't do this!"
He went in to kiss her in an attempt to silence her protest. She pushed him away at first, but he firmly kissed her and she kissed him back. Then she pushed him away with all her force, letting him know that she was done. "We can't…" she said. She left the room holding her ripped shirt close, and almost sobbing.
Logan sighed. So close. The microwave beeped, and he smelled heated frozen spaghetti. He left it there and sought out the cafeteria kitchen.