DBTM2

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Logan closed the door behind him with a satisfied click, grateful at last to have some time to himself. Between the hours he'd spent yapping it up with Marie and the full debriefing he'd just sat through with the Professor, he was half tempted to hop back on 'his' bike and hightail it outta dodge.

Even as the thought crept intp his head, he shook it off. He'd never do that to the kid. Plus, although it was unspoken he owed the man downstairs a debt of gratitude. At least, he could give Charles Xavier's offer some serious consideration.

That man had him by the scruff of the neck. Charles Xavier went above the call of duty making good on his promise to help him find answers and although he hadn't found exactly what he was looking for, he now knew a great deal more than he'd known eight months ago. Not only did the guy completely bankroll his search, but had provided invaluable leads through his impressive military and political contacts along the way. Most of what he found wasn't pretty, but surprisingly Charles did not seem bothered. In fact, the man was grimly appreciative of some of the darker aspects of Logan's past realizing that soon there would come a time when his skills would be invaluable.

Damn, he hated feeling indebted to someone. It was one reason why he'd spent over a decade avoiding attachments with people. The last thing he wanted to become ingratiated into their world, but even before he'd taken off he'd known he'd already been sucked in by these people and their foolishly honorable ideals. There was a large part of him that wanted to get down and fight for the cause, but he wasn't so sure about the commitment Xavier was asking him to make. It was a lot to take on, especially when weighed against the freedom of the open road. He doubted if he'd last six months.

It was almost laughable. He was definitely not the teacher...instructor type. He had no patience for a bunch of bratty kids and even less for no it all adults. But Xavier was right, they could use someone with his expertise on staff no matter how he'd acquired it. Besides, he'd get the added benefit of mopping the floor with Summers on his own turf. Knock the smug little bastard down a peg or two.

He still found it unbelievable that Jean married the kid. Not that he had any delusions about her pining after him or something, but if the lady found herself bored enough with the guy to openly flirt before they'd gotten married he couldn't imagine what she'd do for excitement now that they were legally bound.
Jean was a woman who loved admiration and he was not at all above admiring. It had been a long time since he'd enjoyed flirting with a woman and the fact she had a dork of a boyfriend to tick off only made things much more fun. He reminded himself to make sure she was aware he had no desire to be her distraction when married life started to get mundane.

He had yet to run into the newlyweds since they now lived in a boathouse somewhere on the property. He'd overhead from one of the kids that One Eye was holed up in the garage, looking all lovesick over his bike. More than likely checking ever bolt and tire tread with a fine tooth comb, despite the fact that Logan had treated that bike better than most men treated a woman. If the kid bothered to check the mileage he'd know too, that Logan had barely ridden the damn thing. It was a kick ass machine, but thanks to Charles' generous funding he now had one of his own. Soon to be delivered by one of Charles' military contacts whom he'd shared a few beers with in the last few months. Charles was pleased to hear the guy wanted to come for a visit. He'd made the choice to trust the guy just so he'd have the personal pleasure of returning Scott's pride and joy without a scratch on it. Jean was most likely avoiding running into him since she had yet to emerge from their love nest all morning.
Logan shrugged, as he began unbuttoning his shirt. It had been a long hard ride back, as he'd really pushed himself to get back to surprise Marie for the holidays. He had no idea why the sudden sentimental notion had struck, but he was secretly glad he'd come back. In less than a week the X-men had left a lasting impression on him. It was obvious after that Statue Of Liberty fiasco that they were much more than a team. Heading into his bathroom to shower, he allowed himself to admit that he'd missed them a little.

The sound of a blaring horn drew Logan's attention the second he hung up his call to check in with Xavier's contact, passing on a threat of severe internal injuries to the tall Cheyenne if his bike arrived in less than perfect health. Standing in the foyer just off the kitchen, he glanced out the window as Marie, and two vaguely familiar brunette girls piled out of the passenger van nearly staggering from all the crap they were attempting to carry. The Asian girl was loudly complaining that Bobby and St. John were never around when you wanted them to be as he stepped out the door to help them.

They wasted no time showing their appreciation as they immediately starting shoving packages in his arms between breathless greetings. He shook his head as he peered through the wide open rear doors at the amount of junk they had collected, coming face to face with their ringleader. Ororo Munroe was leaning over the back seat of the van, muttering in frustration as she tried to sort through the jumble of bags the girls had left behind.
"Looks like you gals bought out the entire mall." he commented.

Ororo jumped slightly and glared down at him through the curtain of her platinum hair. "Goddess, that is the second time you have done that today. I really wish you would stop sneaking up on me like that."

His mouth twitched at her annoyed reaction. "Would it help if I put a cowbell around my neck, Darlin'?"
He could of sworn he saw amusement flicker in her eyes, but it was quickly erased by tiny frown lines.

"Did you just call me Darlin'?"
"Yeah."
"Do not call me that." she said, haughtily.

What the hell was her problem? He called all beautiful women Darlin'. It was his backwards ass way of giving a compliment. Obviously, she couldn't take a compliment. No sweat off his back.
"Fine, Princess. Whatever you say." he said, stalking off in irritation despite the weight of the girls' packages.

Ororo glared at his retreating figure, secretly hoping he'd trip before returning to her search for her personal packages. He was already walking back into the house, before she realized he was carrying what she was looking for.

"Thanks, Logan." Marie drawled sweetly, as he headed for the stairs where she and her friends stood. "You are so sweet to help us out."
He cringed at the word, even as he spoke. "Where do you want this stuff?" he mumbled, anxious to disassociate from anything considered sweet.
"Um...those three on the bottom go in our room. The rest are Ms. Munroe's. Take em to the attic and leave em by her door, Sugah." she waved as they brushed past him to head back outside.

Muttering unintelligibly, he trudged up the stairs. Great, now he had to go all the way to the attic. This was the last time he would try his hand at being a gentleman, he vowed.

On the second floor, he caught a glance at Bobby Drake trying to sneak around the corner. 'Good luck trying to hide out, kid.' he thought, as he struggled to open the girl's door around his armload. Unfortunately, he couldn't keep a couple of the smaller packages up top from sliding off their precarious perch. He groaned as the contents spilled out at his feet. He'd pick it all up once he got rid of the girls stuff, and he blindly stepped over a tiny pink and white bag into Marie's room.

He was sure they didn't care where he left their stuff, but more than half of the room looked like it had been bit hit by a F4 tornado. The other 1/3 which was too orderly to belong to Marie, and did not have a big Backstreet Boys poster, with Jubie loves Lance scrawled on it had to belong to the other girl, Kitty. He decided to be nice and leave everything where they could find it, at the foot of her neatly made bed.

He turned at the sound of light footsteps stopping just outside the door and found himself staring at a mop of dark auburn hair as someone bent down to pick up the bag he'd dropped. Long, almost effeminate hair but the scent was decidedly male even if it was diffused by smoke, bourbon and a trace of cheap perfume.

"Hmmm...wonder which femme dese b'long too?"he heard the man murmur under his breath, following a low appreciative whistle directed at whatever he'd picked up.

Logan was almost standing directly above him before the guy finally lifted his gaze, halting Logan with his errie looking eyes. Bright red on black. A mutant. Instinctively, Logan released his claws.

Amazement and awe lit the strange guy's face, and distractedly Logan noted the guy was only a few years younger than Summers. Only a trace of fear. Twenty-one at the most, he calculated. Too old to be a student.

"Who the hell are you?"he blinked, taken aback by the boy's strangely calm reaction to having six adamantium claws poised a few inches from his face.

The guy rocked back on his heels casually, his outward appearance appearing unfazed as he spoke.
"Ah, you must be de infamous Wolverine."
"Yeah. And you got about half a second to answer my question, Bub."
"Remy LeBeau, homme. Dose' some pretty nice toothpicks ya got dere."he drawled, indicating the deadly metal with a lazy grin.
"Ya might just find out how nice, if ya don't tell me what yer doin' up here." Logan warned.
"I live here, homme." Remy said. "Sometimes."he amended, responding to the confused frown that crossed Logan's brow.

Logan studied the man a minute longer. Unable to detect a lie in his scent or weird eyes, he slowly let his claws slide home.
"Remy heard a lot about you, Logan." Remy said, as a he cautiously rose to his feet.. "De petit Belle is a lil' enamored wi' you, non."he remarked.
"You mean, Marie?"he clarified, once he'd finally dissected the man's abuse of two languages. Definitely, cajun.
"Guess she bought dese to impress you." Remy said, dangling a lacey black scrap of fabric from one partially gloved finger. He could have sworn he heard a tinge of disappointment in the comment.

"What the hell is that ? " he squinted, his brow raising when he got a good look at what LeBeau was holding. Panties? Black lace bikini cut thongs to be exact.

"Those aren't Marie's."he said, grabbing the things from the Cajun. "She's a damn kid."
'And don't you forget it.', his darkened gaze warned.

Remy affected an innocent smile, amused by the other man's protectiveness. Inwardly, shrugging. Eighteen was fair game to him.
"So if dey not Rogue's, den who dey b'long too?"he asked, wondering why the man had been carrying around a Victoria Secret's shopping bag.

Logan glared at the cajun, as he stepped past him to grab the rest of the contents and stuff them back inside the bag. For some reason he didn't want the devil-eyed pretty boy knowing that Storm had a thing for sexy underwear. They'd been delicate looking things, not designed to cover very much. With tiny pearl-like beading weaving down the centerline beneath a minuscule red satin bow. Classic. But damn sexy.

He watched the other man turn around and lope casually down the stairs, before he straightened and stalked towards the stairs leading up to the attic.

He only lingered for a few seconds at her door, before finally setting her purchases right outside. He'd been strongly tempted to peek in and find out what else the ice princess was hiding. Instead he turned around, and headed back downstairs. Trying to block at the sudden mental images that kept creeping into his brain. He'd reminded himself that she was stuck up and way too high maintaince for his tastes by the time he got to the first floor. Surely, they'd found that Drake kid by now, Logan reasoned when he turned towards the rec room where he proceeded to make himself scarce.

TBC

Continue to Part 3

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