Title: Black Magick
Author: Spirit Melody (kat@lsak.fsnet.co.uk) & Firesong (firesong@ukonline.co.uk)
Website: none
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Black Magick 8
By Spirit Melody & Firesong
Logan was roused from sleep by the sound of someone calling his name. Or to put it more precisely, nagging his name. He was about to tell them to be quiet, as to not wake the Cajun, before it actually registered that the voice was in his head. The female voice continued calling him, getting louder by the second.
: Whaddya want Red? : Logan thought back, irritated he'd fallen asleep.
: Logan!! Where *are* you? No one's seen you since early yesterday. :
: Why? Ya miss me? Darlin'? :
Logan could almost imagine her blushing, and subconsciously twirling her hair.
: Now Logan don't start. Scott would be having a fit, if he heard you talk to me like that. : He could tell she was smiling.
: All the more reason to do it, beautiful. : Her exasperated sigh was all that followed. Wolverine enjoyed making Red squirm, especially when Scott wasn't too far away.
: I just need to know that everything's okay. : She continued. : It's not like you to stay out of touch this long, unless you're brooding about something. : He could almost hear her mind ticking over. : *Is* there something wrong? :
Logan wasn't sure how to answer that question. Sure he wanted to talk to the X-Men about plenty of things - but not over a telepathic communication. This line of thought brought his slightly 'non-grouchy' mood, to a 'hell yeah I'm unhappy' mood.
Besides he was damned if he was going to take it out on Remy, so snapping at Jean was his only choice.
: Here and there woman. Any particular reason ya woke me up or do ya just want an intelligent conversation? Must be hell hangin' round Cyke 24/7 :
: Logan... : The name held an unspoken warning for a second time.
: Well, it's just that yer always pokin' yer nose in where it's not wanted. And if everyone's not dancing around singing la-de-daa then ya think that the world's gonna end. : Logan could tell he'd hurt her feelings, but he just couldn't stop there. : For once, Jean, just back off. If I wanna talk about somethin' then I'm damn well gonna talk to ya face. :
: Logan?? :
He felt a pang of guilt and backed down a little. : Fine, fine. : he grumbled, : Just get on with it! :
: Fine, I will then. I just needed to tell you that something has come up, and we're all going to be on our way to Iowa in the Blackbird in a minute. It was just in case you worried. :
: Thanks darlin'.: He paused. : I'm sorry I snapped. Just that I got a few things ta deal with right now, and ya caught me at a bad time. I'll make it up to ya I swear. :
She sent the mind feeling of a grin. : You'd better. :
: So... hang on. Iowa? What the hell happens in Iowa? : Logan asked, getting back to the situation in hand. : Magneto finally decided to start up that quiet peaceful farmin' lifestyle? :
: That would be nice, but we've got numerous reports of a high level 'peaceful' debate by the FoH there. Thing is, many don't think it's going to be so peaceful, superior members of the FoH are making their way there and there've been tons of rumours of sightings of some unsavoury characters around - not known for their warm feelings towards mutants. :
: Will ya need me or Gumbo? :
: No, I don't think so, Logan, there's enough of us as there is to cause suspicion. Also we'll need someone back home in case the mansion is attacked while we're away. I've tried to contact Gambit, but as usual I can't get passed his mind shields. You'll tell him where we are if you see him? :
: Sure, Jeannie,... if I see him. :
: Thank you Logan, we've taken off now. I'll check in again in approximately four hours. Don't get into trouble while we're gone. :
: Like I would, woman! Get outta my head already! :
Logan stood up from the couch, massaging his neck to get rid of pains that weren't really there. His stomach rumbled, protesting the fact that he hadn't eaten anything for a long time, and he cursed Remy for not stocking any food. 'Well, it ain't like the kid was expectin' company.' he reminded himself.
He poured two mugs of hot water, before he realised that there was no coffee. Logan swore. It wasn't just some simple four lettered word. It was something only a real mountain man would say, and was definitely anatomically impossible, even if you could break all the limbs off a person. Logan turned the kitchen upside down, before managing to find one teabag. It wasn't even a normal everyday brand. It was fucking Earl Grey. He shuddered as he made the drinks. His throat was as dry as a bone, but he wasn't going to chance a quick run to the mansion.
He carried the drinks through to the bedroom where Remy was still sleeping; Logan didn't know how though - with the early morning sun shining brightly through the window. He did notice however, that at some point Remy had sub-consciously turned his face into the pillow, habit teaching him to shield his eyes from the powerful rays of the sun.
Logan set the mugs down on the small bedside table and sat down in the chair he'd occupied for the majority of the night before.
Reaching over, he gently touched Remy in between his shoulders, feeling the muscles come alive under his touch. A second later he heard a quiet voice, muffled by the pillow Remy had laid his head on.
"Could y' draw de curtains?"
Logan did so quickly and Remy turned over onto his back, arms rising above his head as he stretched in a way Logan could only describe as purely feline. The young man covered his mouth with one elegant hand as he yawned, and then regarded Logan with a sleepy gaze.
"Y're still here." Wolverine doubted he would have heard it had he not been who he was and it sounded like Remy was talking to himself, but still it bothered him that Remy hadn't expected him to still be there.
"Where'd ya expect me to be, kid?"
"Gone," replied Remy slightly cautiously, confirming Logan's worries.
"How's yer head?" He wasn't too keen on mentioning the incident from the night before. Wasn't sure how the Cajun would react.
A silken eyebrow arched up in question for a reply until Remy figured out what Logan was talking about.
"Bien. Forgotten 'bout it really... Listen, Logan, I'm gonna get up an' have a shower, mais we need t' talk." Well that definitely wasn't how he expected things to go. He'd partially expected tears, and a need not to be touched. He certainly didn't think the Cajun would act as though it was a regular occurrence.
"Remy... I..." He began, but Remy just put a finger over Logan's lips.
"Not now, cher. I stink. An', I'm sure de shower upstairs is callin' me, non?" Logan swallowed uneasily but accepted defeat. There were a few things he wanted to talk about with Gambit anyway.
"Yeah, sure" The Canadian replied, walking out the room with his mug, "I'd be makin' breakfast - if ya had any food that is!"
"Rather have de extra half hour in bed, mon ami. 'Specially wid company like you, eh?" Remy chuckled and bounded upstairs. Logan sighed. He missed the fond smile that lit up Remy's face.
****
Remy emerged from the bathroom about twenty minutes later wearing a loose pair of black jeans - which would have been tight on any other man his height - and a black long sleeved top that Logan could have sworn wore Remy instead of Remy wearing it, the way it moved whenever Remy moved in the slightest and moulded itself around Remy's muscles and slim waist. Again, it bothered Logan how much weight the Cajun had lost, but he still looked so damned good. He chided himself for the last comment, he wasn't going to make the Cajun uncomfortable, by showing that his feelings were getting a little more than professional.
'Weird fabrics today,' suddenly went through Logan's mind but he knew that the clothes would look perfectly casual on anyone else. It was just Gambit who made them make him look good enough to, well... eat. 'Damn I wish Gumbo had some food.' thought Logan.
"Ya want ta talk?" he questioned Remy.
Before the Cajun could reply however the loud shattering of a window being broken sounded from the bedroom downstairs.
"Apparently now might no' be de best time." Remy quipped, grabbing a discarded pack of cards as Logan revealed his claws, fists clenched.
"Get out here now, Creed." Logan growled, completely not a request, and Remy gripped the playing cards tighter at having Logan confirm his suspicions of who the intruder was.
When Sabretooth leaped through the doorway though any extra advantage Logan thought he had completely deserted him. As well as carrying his trademark claws with him Creed was also carrying a strange looking shotgun.
"Kid, get DOWN!" Logan shouted at Remy, yet never taking his eyes off Sabretooth.
Gambit did take cover immediately, but not before throwing a couple of charged cards Creed's way. The glowing cards cut through the air and exploded just before hitting Creed in the chest. The smell of smouldering flesh filled the room but Creed just grunted in pain and surprise and took a step back, hardly harmed at all.
Just that second of Creed not being in control though was all Wolverine needed and he dove forward, claws more powerful than any dagger in front of him, heading for Sabretooth's heart.
But they never even got to touch flesh. With double the speed and efficiency that Logan never knew Sabretooth possessed, Creed ducked right to the floor and slammed his heavily muscled 300 plus pound body into Logan's, sending them careering into the couch.
Remy scuttled back as far as he could. The couch was knocked back, and there was obvious sounds of the fabric being torn in the fight.
'Oh merde, an' I just had dat t'ing cleaned."
Creed's fist swung out and hit Logan full pelt in the face, causing him to stagger back. The first shot from the gun fired what looked like a neck brace, straight at him. A direct hit, and a loud beeping started.
"You like, runt? It's called a Genosha Band. Stops yer healing factor, and is made out of adamantium too." Creed threw the gun to the floor, "Now let's play."
Creed leapt at Logan a second time. Injuries on both sides, but Logan's weren't healing. Remy watched in horror as Creed ripped Logan apart. Finally he couldn't stand it anymore, and lunged on Creed's back. His nails scratching Creed's eyes and face.
Sabretooth struggled trying to reach the Cajun before good handful of hair allowed him to toss the Cajun over his shoulder and across the room. "Didn't yer mother ever teach ya not to scratch?" He laughed. He watched Logan trying to get back on his feet, but no luck. He was conscious, but there was no way he was going anywhere. He saw Creed advance on Remy. His stomach lurched, but there was nothing he could do. He choked slightly on the blood rising up his throat and wondered how on earth he'd underestimated Creed so severely.
He took no light satisfaction then in seeing the triumphant smirk swiped off of Creed's face by three cards exploding just to the right of him. The force of the blasts alone were enough to knock Creed down to the floor but he was up in a second, seemingly invulnerable, and dodged the next card deftly thrown his way. He crossed the distance of the boathouse's living room in half a second and caught the running young man around the waist, lifting him off the floor and in a whirl slamming him into the nearest wall with such brute force that it left an indent in the wall where Remy's head had made contact. He watched sombrely as Remy's unconscious form collapsed into the awaiting arms of an almost gleeful Sabretooth.
Logan watched Sabretooth carry the still form out of his line of sight and into the bedroom in pure, pulsating fury. Oh so much fury at Creed, but also anger at himself, for simply failing.
'Maybe I'm not the best at what I do,' was all that went through his mind until he too slid into the darkness he was trying so hard to fight.