Logan was on the edge. She could tell from his tense posture that something was going on. She walked to where he stood and nudged him gently.
“What is it?” She asked. Logan shrugged and accepted the whiskey she offered.
“It’s probably nothing. I’m just being paranoid, that’s all.” She let her gaze sweep over the crowd once, then turned to look at him.
“Just because you’re paranoid…”
“Doesn’t mean that they’re not following you. Yeah. I know, kid. But look at these people. Can you seriously believe that one of them is a hostile?” Logan asked.
“Uh… No?”
Ballroom was filled to the brim with crème of the crème. Old ladies with their handbags and diamonds and dentures and rich husbands, each and every one of them competing the title of mutie lover, trying to see how much of their wealth they could shovel towards Xavier’s vault and how much attention and admiration they could achieve in doing so.
“Well, it certainly looks like Scott and Jean are not as paranoid as you…” She muttered, her eyes glued to the pair that was currently trying their best not to get caught, making out on the patio outside. Logan snorted.
“Jean has the whole room mapped out in her mind. I saw Scott planting bugs and wires earlier and I can only wonder how they manage to do that with all the cacophony these people are making.”
“But if they have everything taken care of why are we here?” Marie asked. Logan threw a pointed glare towards Xavier who was currently chatting with the mayor little further down at the bar.
“I’m here to draw fire if anything goes wrong. You’re here because I’m not as sure as hell going to suffer alone in a denture convent. And you’re going to be a good girl and get me some more booze.”
“Jeesh. I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of finding the punch bowl by yourself…”
“For some reason Xavier has gotten in to that bald head of his that I should stay sober. I wonder if it was because of our little show last night or something I have done earlier. Shoo. Go and get me some booze. Now. Bring it to the garden.”
“Aww… They look so cozy and cute…”
“Yeah. Cute enough to gag a maggot. Where’s that whiskey?” Logan asked. She shrugged her shoulders.
“I guess professor knew what I was up to. Told me to steer clear from the bar.”
“Fuck…”
“But seriously, why are you being so grouchy all of a sudden? I thought you had gotten over Jean already…”
“It’s not that! And why the hell fucking everybody thinks that I have a thing for her? She’s… She’s so fucking cute with Scott that it makes me want to hurl or something. Last thing they need is to somebody mess with what they got going on.”
“Aww… Is our little Grinch jealous? Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s somebody even for you.”
“Why the heck did you even come out here without the booze?”
“Actually, I came to tell you something. Professor asked you to come back inside since you can’t do your job when you’re moping out here.”
Logan leaned back on the bench he was sitting on and pulled out a cigar, lighting it. Looking generally like he was going to take his time smoking it.
“You can tell baldy that I’m getting back in as soon as I feel like it.”
“Logan! What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing. Everything. Shit…” He leaned forward and braced his elbows against his knees.
“Come on, big guy… What is it?” She asked, throwing an arm over his shoulders. Logan drew a long drag from the cigar, holding it in, obviously pondering of what to say.
“It’s just… Nothing. I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”
“I’m sure professor would understand if I told him that you needed to rest…”
“Not like that. Tired from up here,” Logan huffed, tapping his temple.
“Tired. Tired of booze. Tired of this fucking tux. Tired of those old penguins kissing up Xavier’s ass. Tired of this whole fucking ‘let’s all be nice and friendly and get along just fucking fine’ –crap.”
“Huh?”
“Let’s pretend for a second that Xavier actually achieves his goal. We start living happily with our good humane neighbors. No more harassing mutants. No more evil, criminal mutants or men. No more talk about Registration act. No more battles.”
“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”
“Yeah. But where do I fit in?”
“Umm… Uh… What do you mean?”
Logan shrugged her hand off from his shoulder and straightened his stance. Held out his fist. Claws erupted from their sheaths, nine inches of cold death.
“Where do I fit in, kid? This is what I was made for.”
She took his wrist, bringing it on her lap, effectively forcing him to sheathe his claws. She rubbed his knuckles gently, making sure she had his whole attention.
“You fit just fine with me. We’ll both learn how to fit in with the rest of the world.”
For a moment it looked like Logan was going to pull his hand away. Then he grabbed her hand instead and dropped the cigar, grinding it under the heel of his shoe, then stood up.
“Come on. Let’s go and show those geezers some moves on the floor.”
She let him lead her to the dance floor. When Logan tried to assume the traditional ‘at arms length’ –position she pulled him closer against her.
“You’re not going to go all ‘just buddies’ with me now. We’re going to dance, and we’re going to do it properly. You’re a man. Act like one,” she reached up and whispered. She could feel the corner of Logan’s mouth curl slightly against her cheek as he smirked, then his hands curled tighter around her.
“So I should get drunk, grope you and tell Xavier to fuck off?”
“For Christ’s sakes, Logan. Let’s just dance.”
“Do let’s.”
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