I didn’t know what prompted me to stop in that hole in the wall dive; okay, maybe the sight of my motorcycle - couldn’t he have stolen someone else’s for a change? - sitting in front of it was part of the reason. Fine, the only reason. And the exterior didn’t belie the interior; it was pretty much what I expected: sawdust on the dance floor, jukebox wailing something by Johnny Cash, pool table with prerequisite hustlers hunkered around it, girls and women with hair teased two feet higher than their heads and the Wolverine, crouched in the back.

He was there, sprawled half across a table, an amazing amount of shot glasses in front of him. I won’t go into how many empty bottles of hootch were on the table. I was really surprised the bartender kept giving it to him. Surely there had to be a limit to how much alcohol you could sell to one man.

I could only wonder what the hell Logan was thinking.

And then I had to wonder just how much booze he’d had to drink.

The Wolverine had to be plastered. Drunk out of his mind.

Shitfaced.

I wanted a camera.

It’s just one of those scenes you want to have proof of because you know that no one is ever going to believe you, no matter how many Bibles you’re willing to swear on.

But it was, God, so good. This was Logan admitting he listens to the Osmonds because he likes them good. And damn it, there was no one to share it with.

And when I said ‘drinking’, I meant like a fish. Which isn’t really apt, because fish don’t drink but we won’t go there. He had a line of glasses in front of him, was building a pyramid out of the empties and appeared to have consumed more alcohol in however long he’d been sitting there than was conducive to living for your average alcoholic.

"Having fun?" I asked, sliding into the booth across from him.

He fixed me with a red-eyed glare. "Whaddaya want?"

Well, that wasn’t a clue; Logan was anything but polite to me on his best days. "Just wanted to know why my bike’s sitting out in what passes for a parking lot around here."

"‘T’s safe," he muttered, pouring another shot. Not taking his eyes off of me, he tossed back the booze and set the glass upside down on the pyramid. With that oh, so careful movement that people who know they’ve reached their tolerance level use.

"Nice architecture," I said, waving a hand at it. "Have any help building it?"

"Not so’s you’d notice." The glare faded just a bit. If I hadn’t been looking, I would have never seen it. "Want one?"

Who knew what kind of rotgut the Wolverine would be drinking; I didn’t even see labels on the bottles. Still, turning him down when he actually offered probably wasn’t that good of an idea. Wasn’t drinking supposed to foster comradery? "Sure," I said and watched as he poured shots for both of us, shoving a glass towards me with the tips of his fingers. Some of the liquid sloshed out. That’s when I knew for sure he was drunk. Logan would not waste booze, no matter what. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask me to drink with him any other time.

He picked up his glass, lifted that damned eyebrow at me and tossed. I did the same, well, sans eyebrow quirk. He flipped the glass in his hand and added to his pyramid while I puzzled over the fact that whatever Logan was drinking, it was high class hootch. Barely burned at all going down. What the hell was going on here?

"Mind telling me what the hell is going on here?" I asked.

"Seemed like a good idea." He poured another glass for himself, waggling the bottle at me. In for a penny, I nodded and he pushed the shot at me.

Draining that glass, I tried again. "Why?"

He blinked, frowned, stared at the pyramid. Wonder of wonders, he nearly rammed the newly-dead soldier through the top line of glasses but righted himself at the last instant, setting the glass with exaggerated care. "Know what today is?"

"Today?" Damn it, he was laughing at my inadvertent echo. Wait. Wolverine, laughing. That couldn’t be right. I checked again. Maybe that was a grimace. "No." I grabbed the next shot before he could spill half of the booze sending it over to me. "What’s special about today, Logan?"

He dropped back into his seat, rubbing his eyes. "D’y’really care, Cyke? Or is this more touchy-feely crap?"

Did I really care? Good question. "Yeah." Okay, maybe I could’ve sounded more enthusiastic but Logan didn’t seem to notice, turning to stare out over the bar. Some little number shook her breasts at him. Didn’t faze him but for all I knew, women did that to him all the time.

"It’s an anniversary." He slid a finger through a water ring on the table, his gaze dropping to follow the patterns of the water. "When you...recruited me," he said, "remember?"

"Kinda hard to forget," I said, toying with my glass. "It isn’t often we trash national monuments for fun." Lady Liberty had eventually been repaired but she still bore the scars of that battle.

A snarl turned towards me. "You have some sick idea of fun."

"Hey, hold on there," I said, raising my hands. "Maybe you should tell me exactly what this is about." His knuckles were white and I eyed them apprehensively. Sure, we could get into it right here but there were civilians everywhere. Not that they wouldn’t mind a fight; this kind of bar, they were probably as welcome as a paycheck but not from a pair of mutants who could tear the place apart. "I’m not trying to start anything, Logan. I’m...curious." ‘Concerned’ would be pushing too hard. I realized something. "That mission happened in the spring." Now I really was curious. The leaves outside were scarlet and gold, indicating we were definitely in the autumn of the year.

The Wolverine relaxed his fists and let out a long sigh. Pulling a cigar out of his jacket and prepared to light it, Logan stared at the stogie between his fingers as if it had all the answers to his questions. I poured us another round of shots and he grunted his thanks absently, lighting the cigar. He puffed a few times, the smoke drifting towards the ceiling of the bar only to get spun by the ceiling fan twisting lazily above us. I wondered if I was going to get any more out of him when he started talking.

"There was a girl," he mumbled, barely audible over, God, someone had punched up Willie Nelson on the juke box. His spine turned to liquid as he slumped back into the booth. "Damn near won her in a bar fight." His face twisted and he downed a shot. "Brave. She jumped between me an’ a knife. Nearly gutted her. She grabbed holda me after I fucked up the guy who cut her. Put me down for nearly a day. Her skin...she sucked the life outta people if she touched ‘em. For us," the flick of his cigar included me and every other mutant in the world, "she took our powers. I came to inna hotel, her takin’ care of me." He gestured at me to pour. "She told me she was sorry," he coated the word of apology with amazement and disgust, both, "that she knocked me out." Logan fixed me with a scarlet glare to rival my glasses. "She was apologizin’ t’me for livin’ after she tried t’save my life."

I slid the shot his way. "Have another drink."

He accepted, the flames of indignation banked for the few seconds it took for him to drink. Contemplating the empty in his fingers, he said, "She always talked like she hadda caramel in her mouth, slow an’ sweet. When her skin...first time, she’d knocked some kid out for three weeks. Runnin’ away from home seemed like a good idea. Don’t know how long she was on the road before I got her." His eyes glittered ferally. "She didn’ like t’talk about it but them fuckers hurt her. Figured a way to get around her skin so she didn’t kill ‘em. They were usin’ her for bait; whorin’ her out and she’d drain the men and her," he lost his voice and his fists tightened again. "They’d rob the guy afterwards. Figured they were doin’ so good, they’d try the fight circuit. Pimp her out there. Winner got a night with her, she’d put ‘im down, they’d take his money." His eyes fixed in the past, he said, "No one shoulda gone through the shit they put her through."

I winced at the images, thinking of Kitty and Jubilee in the same predicament. God, no wonder Logan was so protective of them.

Logan took a drag on his cigar, chasing the smoke with another shot. "‘M surprised she’d even wanna help me but she hadda good soul. Somethin’. Told me she hadda feelin’ ‘bout me," he barked out a laugh, "that I was one a’ the good guys.

Sinking back, I felt something hollow open up inside of me. The girl...a girl. And the Statue of Liberty. I remembered, how could I have forgotten? Senator Kelly provided us the clue that Magneto had plans for the United Nations World Summit, a way to change normal humans into mutants. And Storm, Jean and I had flown out there, praying we’d be able to stop him. None of us had even dreamed the battle would already be waged when we arrived. We only had to deal with the Toad. Someone else had already taken out Mystique and knocked Sabretooth off the statue by the time we made it to Liberty’s head.

I remembered seeing Magneto and his device and a figure inside of it. Screams filtered down to us. A man, a stranger, faced Magneto, trying to stop the machine. Jean said we could trust him and I trusted her judgment so I blasted Magneto. The stranger managed to destroy the mechanics using knives...claws...God, I had no idea what they were at the time.

The torch wasn’t the most stable structure I’d been in but we three made our way up the stairway in Liberty’s arm to find Magneto, barely conscious. Storm guarded him as Jean and I went to check on the others. It was too late to save the girl but the Wolverine was wrapped around her, mumbling reassurances against her skin. He hadn’t wanted to let her body go.

"Rogue," I whispered, remembering Magneto calling her that. What else had that man said? ‘The way to break the spirit of the beast is to destroy what is important to him.’ It had taken all of us to keep Logan from shredding him.

"She had a real name," he said, his voice roughened from the booze or his emotions. His eyes shuttered as he poured another shot for himself, not including me. Tossing back the liquor, he tipped the glass upside down and onto the pyramid. "She was just a kid." Standing, he fished out his wallet, tossing a wad of bills on the table. His gaze drifted over the bar, finally returning to the table and the pile of glass. "Today’s her birthday. She’d’a been twenty if Magneto hadn’ got her."

"Logan," I said, wondering what I could say.

He brushed me off with a wave of his hand. "I heard it before, Cyke. Don’t change that I broke m’ promise to keep her safe." His chin tucked into his chest for a few seconds.

"You can’t live in the past," I said, realizing how stupid that sounded as the words left my mouth.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he stabbed at me with his cigar. "But somebody’s gotta remember an’ Marie, well, there ain’t nobody else." He reached across the table, taking the last bottle and capping it before tucking it into his leather jacket.

"It’s illegal to drive with an open bottle." I chalked another one up to the ‘engage brain before speaking’ list as I got to my feet.

"Yeah, well, they hafta catch me to tell me that," Logan said, the sneer nearly back in place.

"Logan." I braved dropping a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. His eyebrow went up but I kept my hand there. "I’m sure she knew you did all you could."

Slipping from my grasp, he walked away. Somehow, his voice carried over the music back to me. "Yeah. Too bad it wasn’t enough."

---

In Vino Veritas Challenge

This is a very simple challenge: "in wine, truth". It’s always amazing how alcohol can bring to light hidden truths, make us confess to things we’d rather keep secret. In this challenge all you need is one scene with any character of an acceptable fanfic involving the imbibing of alcohol and a secret revealed or a confession as a result of the drink. Canon or non-canon ships welcome. No ship is fine, too but slash ships not allowed (because they aren’t something any of the Geek Girlz prefer to read and of the acceptable fanfic creators, some do not allow slashing of their characters. This is not meant as bashing of any kind). So drink and be merry and tell those hidden truths. One of our lovely challenge buttons will be given to any challenge that is accepted and we will link back to your story under the heading: In Vino Veritas. Acceptable fanfic can be any not forbidden by their creators. We Geek Girlz are most familiar with BtVS, AtS, Smallville, X-Files, Star Trek, X-Men, Preacher and Elfquest but will consider others, just ask. Unacceptable fanfics include anything by Anne Rice, Anne McCaffrey, P.N. Elrod, and J.K. Rowling (due to their request that no fanfic be written about their characters).