CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

Victor Ponders

AN: I'm sorry this is short. I'm working on longer chapters; no worries. And I LOVE the reviews! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

Even though Logan lead them to the garage immediately, he then told them to wait while he went to tell Rogue what was going on. Victor simply stared stonily at his little brother, but crossed his arms to wait, positioning himself protectively infront of his mate…..only he heard her move.

The feral sighed inwardly when he saw his mate poking at several of the motorcycles in the huge garage, literally poking. With one finger she seemed to be testing the squishiness of one of the motorcycle seats. He moved a little closer in case she did something stupid, like starting one of the motorcycles by accident. From what he had experienced and heard so far, the odds of that sort of thing happening around her were very big. She moved from bike to bike, sometimes poking at a wheel, sometimes touching the paint-jobs and he followed her silently, his huge muscled bulk still managing to be hunter quiet. Of course, he WAS the ultimate predator.

When Logan came back he was greeted with the sight of Cassie literally shoving a motorcycle, trying to guess it's weight, while Victor stood beside her protectively, ready to catch the vehicle if it started to fall on her. "What the hell are you two doing?" he asked completely flummoxed.

Victor just growled at him. "Let's get going, Jimmy-boy."

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Victor and Logan didn't need helmets with their healing factors, but Cassie found herself with a big one situated on her head and amused herself by puffing air inside the helmet and clouding up the visor while Victor and Logan shook their heads. The Sabretooth was beginning to wonder about his mates mental age.

Victor stopped when he realized that he didn't know HOW old his mate was. Her body was filled out in all the right places, but weren't cubs growing too fast these days? "How old are you?" he growled, flipping her visor open suddenly.

She blinked at him. "Twenty."

Sabretooth snarled and shut the visor again. Twenty…..he couldn't remember acting like this when he was twenty…..but that had been centuries ago.

Logan pushed a button and one of the huge garage doors slid open, thankfully silently.

They started the motorcycles and then they were off.

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Victor knew the way to the woods where he hunted, however, so did Logan and the two competitive males were soon in a race to see who would get there first. Victor had to admit that while he didn't like the noise the motorcycles made, he did enjoy the speed. It was only when he scented his mates apprehension that he slowed down…just a little.

Unfortunately, though, not even the speed could distract Victor from a disturbing thought that had wormed its way into his head. The fact that she was twenty and he was three-hundred didn't bother him so much, hell, the frail could learn from his experience; it was the fact of her aging that had suddenly hit him.

He didn't age…..at least, not fast. Sure, he had grown taller and more brawny, but that had stopped the last century and though he still had no grey hair there were just a few lines around his eyes. However, his frail, as far as he could tell, wasn't a mutant…..That meant she would age normally…..and that meant….that she would be dead long before him.

He could swear that his heart almost stopped.

But Nature wouldn't have made her his mate if there wasn't a solution to this. Maybe the cripple would know. There had to be some kind of anti-aging serum out there. From what he remembered from the Brotherhood women were obsessed with looking younger, that meant there had to be SOMETHING, right?

He growled low in his throat. And if there wasn't something, he would damned well FIND something, even if he had to go back to that bastard Stryker.

VOCABULARY:

FLUMMOXED: to confuse; perplexed (in this case; "What the hell are you doing" he asked, completely confused/flummoxed. ''