The Twist Inside
Chapter 3: Run Away
by
Allykat
Hand in hand, Jean and Scott Summers wandered into the department store. They roamed aisles between clothing and manly accouterments like cologne, expensive watches--Jean could never imagine Logan wearing anything flashy or fancy... and finely tailored suits. After two hours they had several shopping bags full of items, but nothing for Logan. Finally, Jean sighed and sat down on a bench across from a pipe and tobacco store and sniffed the spicy scents. Scott collapsed next to her. For a moment they sat in silence listening to the piped music over the mall's PA system while watching flocks of mothers with strollers and groups of teenage girls pretending to ignore ogling teenage boys. The faint scent of grilled hamburgers lingered in the air from a nearby food court.
"I'm about ready to give up. What do you get for a man like Logan?" Scott finally said. Their gazes both tracked a young woman sauntering by who looked like Jubilee.
"You can't buy him the usual manly objects like a pocket knife, he has his own built-in weapons. A sharpening stone might be nice, but he never sharpens uh... them."
"I've never thought of that. I don't think Adamantium needs to be sharpened," Scott replied.
"We've known Logan for years, yet we don't really know him," Jean said more to herself than Scott.
"I don't think the man even knows himself." He patted her hand then took a breath. "What's been going on between Jubilee and Logan?"
"She likes him." Jean wished he hadn't asked.
"Sure she likes him. He's been her surrogate father for years."
"No, I mean she likes him," Jean stressed and mentally rolled her eyes. Men could be so obtuse. It was so obvious what was going on that Jubilee might as well wear a stamp on her forehead that read "Logan Crush". Though Jean thought a "kick me" sign should be pinned to her back. Any woman falling in love with Logan needed a good reminder kick that the guy was the quintessential loner. She's never dream of telling Logan that she had always thought a match between he and Mariko was a big mistake. Though he'd never purposely hurt Mariko, he'd get bored of domestic life and end up chasing off in pursuit of bad guys. Logan may like the idea of domesticity, but reality and idea were two completely different things. "Scott, this thing Jubilee has for Logan isn't anything new. She's liked him for years."
"Likes? As in..." Scott trailed off and coughed, "...love?" Jean stifled a giggled at the incredulous expression on her husband's face. Shaking his head, he continued: "I don't understand the attraction women have for Logan. I mean, I like the man and I respect him, but when you get down to it, he's a arrogant son of a b--."
"Now Scott," Jean said and nudged him, inwardly a little embarrassed. She knew why women were drawn to Logan. She'd once been torn between him and Scott and then she had only felt a minute thread of his passion, like a heady wine that left her craving more. As a grown woman it had been difficult to resist Logan, but she had. She couldn't image a young girl like Jubilee having any hope, in addition Jubilee carried the burden of hero worship.
"Are you... certain about this... uh... crush?"
"I'm not certain it's a crush any longer," Jean replied. "Relationships evolve. Jubilee's older now, more mature, I suppose that now she feels mature enough to pursue her interest in Logan."
"Ridiculous." Scott rubbed a hand through his hair. "She's only, what? Twenty-one? And Logan is maybe a few hundred years old? She's so young. What are we going to do about this?"
"We? What's this we thing? We're not going to do anything. It's all a part of growing up and Jubilee has to sort it out for herself."
"It's a given that she'll get hurt."
"And we'll be there for her," she replied gently.
"What about Logan? What do you think will he do?"
"I trust that Logan will do the right thing, whatever he feels that might be. We might disagree but in the end we probably won't argue. Logan is Logan, the quintessential loner and tough guy with his Harley, beer and cigars."
Scott straightened. "Hey, that gives me an idea!"
"Which about what?" Jean asked, disconcerted by the quick change in topic. "Jubilee or Harleys, beer and cigars?"
"Yep." Scott stood, grabbed her hand and pulled her off the bench.
"Yep to which?" Jean tried to retrieve her hand from his grip but he held fast. "Scott, what are you doing?" she asked. One moment they had been calmly discussing Logan and Jubilee and now he was dragging her along behind him.
"I know just the thing," he said and winked at her. "Up for a ride in the Blackbird?"
"Where... what?"
"Cuba!"
* * * *
"Butthead," Jubilee mumbled, half at an annoying motorist who cut her off but mostly annoyed at Logan.
"Learn to drive, girlie," the motorist shouted and flipped her off. She stuck her tongue at him.
"Use that finger again and I'll paf it off!" she yelled out the window.
Things were not going as she had planned. She hoped tonight the party would work out better than her major of a bummer morning. Besides wanting to kick Logan in the ass for being a jerk this morning... a kick wouldn't make a good birthday present but it'd make her happy--she knew exactly what she wanted to give him. Finding that particular item was an adventure in itself and she almost drove out a tank of gas looking for it. There weren't many western clothing stores in the New York metropolitan area. She finally found one in downtown Manhattan of all places. It was a pricey store that carried a large array of fashionable western clothing for the urban cowboy. It took Jubilee fifteen minutes to find what she wanted, winced at the price and took it up to the cashier counter.
"Would you like this gift wrapped?" asked the friendly ersatz cowgirl behind the counter. At Jubilee's nod she took the box and wrapped it in western motif paper with a big white bow. The woman's smart cowboy skirt and boots gave Jubilee an idea.
"Excuse me," she said to the woman, who turned around with a professional smile. "Could you help me find some clothes for a western motif party."
"Of course."
And for the next hour, with the help of the chatty cowgirl, Jubilee tried on one set of clothes after another until she had what she needed. Sure, exactly what I need, she thought to herself, along with a huge credit card bill to show for it.
The mansion was quiet when she returned. No one seemed to be about. She went straight to her room and dropped the package on her bed, sat down and drew her legs up to her chest. She rested her chin on her knees and yawned. She hadn't slept much last night except for a few wonderful hours cradled in Logan's arms. Falling back on her bed, she closed her eyes. What would have happened if Ororo hadn't been outside Logan's room looking for her? Would Logan have kicked her out of bed? Would he have turned her over, slipped off her nightshirt, ran his hands down her flat stomach and into the waistband of her panties. She let her mind wander, feeling him caress her and undress her. What would it be like to kiss Logan, like really kiss him and explore his body, running her fingers over him, touching him, letting her tongue follow...
"What a minute, girl. Stop right there." Jubilee bolted upright, her eyes wide. Small beads of sweat had collected on her upper lip. "Where did that come from? Girl, you need a cold shower after that. Or a swim." She changed into a red bikini, grabbed a towel from the bathroom and headed out. Maybe she just needed a few hours lazing by the pool. There was plenty of time before the caterers arrived to set up at about 6pm, dinner guests were expected at 7:30. She arranged a lounger toward the sun, sat down, slathered herself with sunblock and lay down. She allowed her thoughts to drift to how she imagined the party would go. Logan would dote over her, and with that she drifted of to sleep.
* * * *
"Something for his Harley?" Rogue suggested to Remy who sat across from her at a table outside behind the mansion. They were both sweaty and hot just having finished their third game of one-on-one basketball. Across the patio Jubilee lay sunbathing near the pool, her body clad in the most miniscule red bathing suit Rogue had ever seen. The younger girl lay on her stomach and had the back of the bathing suit top untied. Logan was going to blow a head gasket when he saw it.
"His Harley? No." Remy shook his head. Rogue watched his eyes wander toward Jubilee. "Petite looks all grown up, no?"
"Unfortunately for poor Logan." Rogue raised an eyebrow and leaned forward on her elbows. "Now lets heah some ideas from you, sugah".
Remy picked up an empty glass and turned it around slowly, staring at it intently. A pitcher of frosty lemonade sat off to one side. He filled his glass and took a sip then paused.
"Cherie, if relief is what the man needs, I know just the thing."
"It ain't illegal, is it?"
"No worries, chere, eh?" Remy smiled, raised her gloved hand and kissed it. "It's not what you think."
That smile always made her knees feel like jelly. "Well 'round you sugah, ya' never know."
* * * *
Jubilee awoke slowly and blinked at the sun low on the horizon. She bolted up and almost lost her bikini. Had she slept too long? She spied Kurt crossing the patio. Kurt had Professor X's gadget activated and appeared like a regular man, which meant he was going out somewhere and he seemed in a hurry.
"Kurt!" she called and waved. He hesitated then walked over. "Time?" she pointed to her wrist.
"It is close to 4pm," he replied. For some odd reason he was looking everywhere but at her. Did she have something on her face? Maybe she had like a gross booger hanging out of her nose. She took a swipe at it but didn't feel anything.
"And have you seen Logan?" Jubilee asked and stood.
"Ah...," Kurt stuttered, nodded and stared at his feet, then at the trees, then at the sky. "Last I heard he was in the Danger room."
"A work out?"
"Ah no, I would be more comforted if that were the case. This is something else."
"What is he doing?" Jubilee asked. "Either Logan is working out or he isn't."
"He is a man with a purpose."
Jubilee watched him hurry off. "What's his problem?" She tossed her towel around her neck and headed into the mansion and down to the Danger Room. There she found Professor Xavier and Hank in the control room observing something below. The Danger Room was simulating a steamy jungle, the undergrowth thick and green. It took her a moment to find what they were watching. Logan, dressed in jungle camouflage, crawled through dense jungle undergrowth like a silent snake, blending into the undergrowth. The humans in the scenario were simulated, but still, when Logan crept up behind one and dispatched it, wrapping a quick hand around its forehead and sending a single claw through its throat, Jubilee winced. There were some things that Logan was just too good at, things that Jubilee didn't care to think about. He didn't remember much of his past but he still retained skills he'd learned from somewhere. Logan pinned another simulated human to a tree with three claws to the chest.
"Uh... what is he doing," she whispered to Hank.
"I'm not quite certain," Hank replied, his chin resting on his hand. Jubilee had never seen him looking so worried, especially over Logan. "He's been doing this for a few weeks now. Today, he's been at this since noon. I've been checking on him on and off. He's training in guerilla warfare, though training doesn't appear to be necessary. For this scenario, Logan's set the Danger Room at maximum threat for full scale solo combat mode. We haven't been monitoring much of a heart rate or respiration increase. The man is a machine. He knows that he's doing and his kills indicate just under a dozen. I've never seen him at it before; he's quite good." Hank taped the tips of his fingers together while he checked a monitor.
"I can see," she replied, and swallowed. ÝLogan was creeping her out. This was a side of him that she knew about but had never witnessed first hand. "Have you asked him what's going on?"
"He hasn't answered," Hank said. "Bishop thinks these simulations have something to do with his earlier target practicing at the back of the property."
Jubilee plopped down in a chair next to Hank. Funny how her former bad habits returned whenever she stayed at the mansion. At school, her sorority sisters would be horrified the way she splayed in the chair with one leg swigging over the chair arm. And for now it suit her to put up with them and their silly and usually annoying rules. Here she could just blow them off and forget. For a good hour she sat with the Professor and Hank watching Logan creep through the jungle. He coldly dispatched two more simulated humans. She had to remind herself none of this was real, still it gave her a chill.
"One has to wonder who would want to make such a man," Hank said, tilting his head to one side, talking more to himself then Jubilee. "What was his original purpose? Whom would he have served?"
Make, Jubilee mulled over the word. That made him sound more like a robot than a human. Logan was her protector, someone she could trust, and it was rare to see him through another's eyes, like Hanks. See him as others might, a weapon made for only one purpose: to kill. No, she told herself. She knew Logan like no one else.
"Terminate," Logan said, his voice coming through the speakers into the control room. The jungles blinked away.
"Total kills, fourteen," the professor said. "None of them saw him coming." His fingers went to the console system and called up Logan's vital statistics. "Heart rate and blood pressure normal, his mind was akin to a predator, hunt and destroy. " He pressed the intercom button. "Logan!"
Logan stopped and turned, seeing them for the first time. "What is it, Chuck?"
"Come up here, please, Logan. I would like to speak with you."
"Don't think so. Nothing to discuss." He strode toward the exit.
"Logan, it wasn't a request," replied the professor, a tone in his voice that Jubilee had never heard. She and Hank looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
"An order?" Logan growled. Snikt! "Want to rephrase that?"
"I don't like what you're doing. This is not a productive use of this facility."
"I didn't ask for your approval," Logan replied and exited the Danger Room. His claws slid back into their forearm housing.
"Geez, what climbed up his butt? Like the guy's having one mucho bad hair day." Jubilee said.
The professor drew a long breath and sat back in his chair, his expression distant, his brows drawn together. "Difficult man," he said under his breath.
"Understatement," Jubilee sang. "Catch you guys later." She hurried out of the observation deck and ran down the empty hallway toward the exit Logan had taken out of the danger room. "Hey Logan," Jubilee called when she saw him.
"Not now, Jubes," he replied over his shoulder and kept walking. "I ain't in the mood."
"That's too bad," she called and ran up to him. "What were you doing? What's with the jungle creeping stuff? The professor is majorly pissed."
"That's not my problem. I told you I'm not... ." He stopped, turned, and both eyebrows rose to his hairline while his eyes swept over her from head to toe. "Jubes, for the flamin' sake of mankind, what the hell are you wearing?"
"It's a bathing suit," she replied and smiled up at him, sauntering a bit closer. So he noticed, he's not as immune to me as he'd want me to think. She watched his eyes fall to her cleavage. It was a daring bikini, the bottom almost a thong and the top just two tiny pieces of bright fire red material held together with a bit of black string... they weren't called string bikinis for nothing. "Do you like it?"
"Ain't much of it to like, darlin'. An' I wouldn't bounce around too much if I were ya'. You... uh...," he rubbed his chin then gestured in the general direction of her top with one finger, "might fall out."
She looked down and ran her splayed hands over her flat stomach then glanced up into his face. His dilated pupils watched her hands and he swallowed but he didn't move. "I'm surprised you'd notice." She stepped toward him again, her breasts almost brushing his chest.
"A man would have to be flamin' blind not to," he admitted after a short paused, then snorted with something akin to exasperation. "Is this...?" He stepped forward to look behind her. "Christ, kid! You're missing some material in the back." Logan reached for her and she took a quick breath, but it wasn't her he wanted. He yanked the towel from around her shoulders, wrapped it around her. He tucked the ends over her breasts, his knuckles brushing the soft flesh. Her breath caught in her throat and she found his staring down at her.
"The bathing suit is suppose to be like that," she told him.
"Make sure you don't wear it in public," he said. "You might cause a traffic jam, kiddo."
"Really? Come here, I have a secret to tell you," she said in a conspiratorial voice and wiggled a finger at him. He quirked one eyebrow and leaned forward. She let the towel drop to her feet. "I'm not a kid," she whispered in his ear, and breathed in his sweaty maleness, an intoxicating scent.
"That so," he replied his voice pseudo-teasing then it fell several octaves to a rumbling growl and his eyes glittered. He grasped her wrist in a hard grip and she could feel his anger still pumping through him from the danger room session. "Don't flamin' play with me, Jubes."
A chill ran up her spine. She leaned closer, their bodies lightly touching, her breasts pressing against his chest. "Do you think I'm playing?" She cocked her head at him and lightly clasped her free arm around his neck, her other still imprisoned in his hand. "Reality check, Wolvie. Does it look like I'm playing?"
He grasped her chin in one hand and held her face up to his scrutiny, his brows drawn together in a frown. He suddenly pulled her against him, one hand on her waist holding her firmly. Her arm tightened around his neck for balance. He bent his head down and nuzzled her sensitive ear. Her skin prickled in awareness, she closed her eyes and reveled in his nearness, his power.
"It 'pears to me that this is a game your playin' with me darlin', n' I don't like being one o' the game pieces, and I don't like losin'," he said into her ear, the rough whiskers on his cheek grazed her neck.
"I assure you, there are no losers in this game," she said, her voice shaking, husky. His head dipped down and his mouth followed the line of her shoulder, never actually touching her but she could feel the heat of him. He hadn't kissed her and Jubilee wondered what would happen if he did, she wondered if she'd melt into a puddle. His hand moved from her waist down to the skin exposed by the brief cut of the bikini bottom. One of his fingers traced over her flesh just under the hem of the material, down the curve of her rear end. She didn't think she could stand up right if her arm wasn't around his neck and her voice shook as she whispered: "Only two players allowed and they both win."
"You sound certain. It ain't always like that." His lips hovered over the curve of her collarbone. She couldn't prevent the moan that escaped her lips and she tilted her head back, giving him more access. His lips moved forward to the swell of her breast and touched the skin lightly. She gasped and her body came alive, quicksilver shots of desire firing up and down her nerves. He continued: "Do you really know what you want? Does it twist you up inside, Jubes?"
"Yes," she managed, her voice shaky. This was torture, sweet torture.
Logan lifted his head and a large hand cupped the side of her face. SNIKT! A single claw slid out, grazing her cheek and nicking her ear. Jubilee gasped, the sharp pain exquisite. Blood welled out and trickled down the side of her head. "Jubes, you have this crazy idea in your head of what I am. I am not what you think."
"Remember, I've fought beside you Logan. I've seen what you can do, and of what you're capable." She met his gaze steadily. "I've seen you at your worst. You don't scare me. I know you better than you think."
Logan retracted the claw. "You only think you know, darlin'." He abruptly released her, took two steps back then spun on his heel and walked away, his strides long and sure. The man had way too much self-confidence, arrogance others would call it. "See ya' at the party, Jubes," he called back, a hint of laughter in his voice.
Jubilee reached blindly for the wall, leaning against it for without its support she knew she'd fall. It took her several moments to find her equilibrium. Her legs were weak, tingles ran up and down her body, desire flushing her face. Oh, he felt it, she knew he did, and he was close to giving in, he was just the most stubborn man she knew.
* * * *
Professor Xavier paused outside Logan's room.
"Come on in, Chuck," the man called.
Xavier smiled slightly and motored his chair inside. An assortment of guns lay in a neat row beside a half-full duffel bag on the rumpled bed. Logan, standing at the bed, dropped a stack of neatly folded clothing into the duffel and zipped it up. He turned; his arms were crossed his expression closed. He must have just stepped out of the shower. He wore a pair of Levis, but no shirt and his hair was wet, a towel hung around his shoulders.
"You leaving us, Logan?" the professor asked mildly. Logan was one of the few people who could make him lose his composure, make him angry, but Logan was just being Logan and the professor didn't hold it against the man.
"Looks like it."
"May I inquire where?"
"No."
"Should we be concerned for your safety?"
"Don't' think so. You've seen the results of the danger room combat scenarios. Maybe you should be prayin' fer th' other side."
The professor swallowed his frustration. Logan could irritate a saint. "Will you tell the others goodbye?"
"No. They'll figure it out."
"Logan--."
"I ain't into playin' twenty questions with you, professor," Logan interrupted and walked over to stand beside his friend and mentor. "You an' the others are the closest I have to a family, and my home will always be here. But sometimes things get too cozy an' I'm gettin' lazy 'an cantankerous."
"Does your destination have anything in common with the terrain in the danger room?"
"Maybe," he replied. Out of the closet he took out a starched white cowboy shirt and shrugged it on, snapping up the pearl buttons.
"When should we look for your return?" Xavier tried a question in a different route.
"When you hear my flamin' bike puttin' down that driveway, otherwise, don't be lookin' out the window for me or ya' might be looking fer a long, long time."
"Logan, we need you here," the professor stressed. From what he'd seen in the Danger Room, he had a feeling he knew what Logan would be doing. The man needed a gentle guiding hand away from his past, not a push back to it. "The team needs you."
Logan paused as he tried a black string tie around his neck. "I'm no good to anyone this way. I can't live this way for long; it starts to get on my nerves. Starts to stifle me, an' I get twitchy."
"As long as your reasons and objectives are clear for what you are about to do," Xavier said quietly.
At that Logan paused. "Crystal clear, Chuck. I gotta do what I gotta do."
"Very well. There is nothing I can do to convince you to stay?"
"No, there's nothing you can say. Nothing."
* * * *
Jubilee tried to contain her panic. Everything looked great. The BBQ chicken and ribs smelled good, and the table top was neatly arranged with bowls of different types of salads, baked beans, corn on the cob, lots of honey butter, cornbread and coleslaw. Balloons were tied to each chair and a huge chocolate cake made a mouth-watering centerpiece to it all. The country western band was setting up near the pool. They had come highly recommended. Everyone was dressed up in country western gear. Rogue and Jean both looked good in western mini skirts and boots. Storm stepped out of the mansion wearing a black and white western skirt ensemble that looked stunning. Kurt and Hank both sported cowboy hats.
The only important element missing to the birthday part was the birthday boy. She hadn't seen him since their encountered near the Danger Room. Taking a deep breath, she wandered away from the gathering party crowd, and once out of sight, ran to the garage. She drew a sigh of relief. Logan's scoot was here, which meant he hadn't taken off. She took a sharp breath.
There was a pack strapped to the back of the Harley.
"Damn him!" she muttered under her breath, her hands clenched against her thighs. He wouldn't dare leave.
Jubilee ran into the mansion, up the stairs and on her way to his room she found the professor coming out. "Good evening Jubilee," he said. "You are looking nice."
"Thanks, you look handsome, too" she replied and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I've never seen you in cowboy duds. It suits you. Is Logan in his room?"
"He is indeed," the professor replied and continued down the hall. She watched him, her brows drawn together. What was up with that? Maybe they were talking about the danger room scenario? She detoured to her room first, grabbed Logan's birthday present and ran back.
"Come on in, darlin'," Logan's voice called as she was about to knock.
Jubilee smile to herself and her fear and anger evaporated. She walked in, and stopped short, her mouth working wordless for a moment as she stared. "Logan!" she finally burst out. "You... you.... you look great!"
And he did indeed look magnificent. He wore a starched white cowboy shirt with pearl buttons, a leather cowboy belt with a silver buckle and a black string tie around the collar of his shirt. And he looked hot in those tight Wranglers, Jubilee thought with raised brows. His boots were polished and his hair combed back, dark and silky. Her heart thumped in her chest, she was certain Logan could hear it beating.
"You done lookin'?" he asked, amused.
"Oh yeah," she managed. "I approve of this. No dirt," she teased and sniffed the air. "And you don't smell like grease or sweat. In fact, something smells good. I think you should dress like this more often. I didn't know you cleaned up so nicely."
Logan lifted one brow. "Thanks, I think, kiddo. You don't look so bad yourself. I like a gal in cowboy boots." His eyes lingered on her midriff left bare by the western crop-top, then swept down her long legs from the red western mini skirt to the matching red and white boots.
"You approve?"
"Better than what you were wearin' earlier," he said, his voice neutral.
"There are other men who might disagree," she replied, crossed her arms and gave him a cheeky smile.
"Not around me they wouldn't," he returned, and lifted one brow.
"Oh, Wolvie, this is a special night, I don't want to argue." She held out the box. "This is for you. I want you to open it before you go down."
Logan opened it and grinned at the new white Stetson in the box. He put it on and it looked perfect with his white shirt. "Can I take the birthday boy to his party?" she asked. Over his broad shoulder she saw an assault weapon and several handguns laid out on the bed. She swallowed. Later, she told herself. Ask later.
"Darlin', I can't think of a better escort." He held out his arm and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and together they went down to his birthday party.
The porch was lit up and close to fifty people milled around the grounds. Almost all the invitations had been accepted. Frank Castle had said he had things to take care of and couldn't come. Yukio couldn't make it either. That didn't surprise Jubilee. Carol Danvers, wearing a barely there black dress, her long blond hair up in a loose chignon, circulated through the crowd. She caught sight of them, smiling at Jubilee but her eyes on Logan. She sauntered up to him, her gaze traveling from his head to his boot tips.
"A kiss for the birthday boy," she said, leaned up and planted her lips on his while reaching around to pinch him. "And a pinch to grow an inch. Dance later." Winking she slinked away. Jubilee wished she could kiss Logan as casually and know for certain he would kiss her back. Unfortunately that one kiss wasn't the end of it. It seemed Carol had started a trend. Heather Hudson was next. Logan looked surprised to see her.
"Wouldn't miss it," she said and gave him a lingering kiss. Zoe Culloden followed suit. Even Emma de-Frosted long enough to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Should have done this ages ago," Logan said as Natalia stopped him for yet another birthday kiss, the third one tonight. Jubilee wanted to elbow them both, or get a pry bar. She finally steered him to the table filled with a bright array of gifts. Logan's expression was a mixture of bemusement and glee. Jubilee wondered it he'd ever received a present before.
At a signal from the band's lead singer, the party crowd gathered around and sang Logan "Happy Birthday" and he looked both pleased and embarrassed. It was probably the first birthday party he could remember. Everyone clapped and called for him to open presents. Jubilee picked one out for him. It was a flat, rectangular box wrapped in red foil with a big red bow.
"This is from....?"
"Red and Slim," he finished for her.
"How'd you know?"
"A good guess," he said and winked.
It was a box of expensive and illegal Cuban cigars. Jubilee didn't even want to ask Jean and Scott where they found them. Maybe it had something to do with the Blackbird disappearing for an afternoon. Storm bought Logan a silver money clip with his name inscribed on it. And from Kurt came an aboriginal tiki god for good luck. Remy and Rogue had bought Logan three aged bottles of scotch and a personalized shotglass that read "Happy Birthday, Logan".
"You have to share dat, mon ami," Remy said, sat down and fished another shotglass from a pocket. "I've come prepared."
"I would have been surprised had it been any other way." Logan laughed, opened the bottle and poured them both a glass of the amber liquid.
"To good scotch," Remy held up his glass. His eyes wandered to Rogue. "And good women."
"I'll drink to that," Logan replied, and Jubilee suddenly found herself under his close scrutiny. Her breath caught in her throat. She didn't know what he was thinking, but for the first time he looked at her like a man looked at a woman.
Maybe tonight it would happen. The moment broke when Jean took Logan's hand and tugged on it.
"I insist on a dance with the birthday boy," she said.
"Well, I ain't one to deprive you of that privilege," Logan said.
"Dis a good thing you did for Logan," Remy said when they were left alone at the table for a moment. "I've never seen Logan like dis. He looks happy."
"Yeah, I rock, don't I," Jubilee responded, satisfied. "He doesn't know what's good for him, but I do. And he needed this." Her smile faltered at Remy's reserved expression. "But what? There's this tone in your voice and you're giving me an odd look."
"But," Remy measured her expression, "careful you don't scare him, chere."
Jubilee snorted. "Me scare Logan. I don't think so. Nothing scares the Wolvester."
"Logan is an unusual man and abides by his own code of ethics. Careful you don't try to make him break his code, you may not like the results." With that, the Cajun stood, gave her a quick nod and disappeared into the crowd.
Troubled, Jubilee stared after him. What was up with him? Pushing aside troubling thoughts, Jubilee stopped by the drink table and a handsome guy behind the table smiled and poured her a glass of spiked punch. She gave him a smile and didn't see him double take as she went off on a search for Logan. She found him under the dark shadows of a tree with an open, half-empty bottle of scotch in one hand. No way would she let him fall into one of his brooding moods. She sidled up close to him and cast him a coy smile. Something she would have never tried, except the alcohol she'd consumed made her brave.
Logan cast her a sideways glance and raised an eyebrow. "Just what 'er you up to, darlin'." His tone held a wary note.
She shrugged and took a sip of her drink. It tasted like orange sherbet. "Just seeing what your up to skulking here in the dark all by yourself."
Before she knew what he was about, he reached over, snatched the drink from her hand and took a sip. "Damn! If I didn't know, better, I'd think you were drinking orange cough syrup." He upended the contents of the glass into the grass.
"Hey!" Jubilee snatched the glass from him and frowned at the empty bottom. "That wasn't fair."
"How many of these have you had?"
Jubilee shrugged. "About three, or maybe four." She hadn't eaten anything and felt a little dizzy. "You know I'm allowed to drink. I am legal--."
"And all that it implies," he interrupted her. "Don't remind me," he mumbled.
The band started up Boot Scootin' Boogie. "I think this is our song," she said and held out a hand.
"You're not going to step on my toe again, are you?" he asked and Jubilee did just that, sticking her heel into his instep. Logan winced.
Jubilee smiled sweetly. "That's what you get for mentioning it. A gentlemen would never point out a lady's foibles."
"Darlin', I ain't never claimed to be a gentleman."
Later, after several dances, both slow and fast with Logan, Nick Fury, and Warren, Jubilee took a break to get a drink. She tried to make her way back to Logan but found herself detained by first M, than Everett and Angelo. M was with a good-looking blonde guy who introduced himself as Doug. They wanted her to stick around but she wasn't interested. Extracting herself, she looked around. Where was Logan? She approached Kitty. "Kitty, did you see where Logan went."
Kitty shook her head. "I danced with him a few times, but that was it. I haven't seen him in about twenty minutes."
A shiver of dread coursed down her spine and she fought off a sensation of foreboding. Biting off a strangled cry, she launched through the crowd, pushing her way through and running toward the garage. His scoot was still there, but another pack had been added to the first and the Clan Yashida honor sword was strapped to the side.
"Wolvie, where are you?" She said, moving into the light of the garage lamp.
Logan suddenly loomed out of the darkness, his demeanor dangerous and predatory, the dim light partially illuminating his face. Jubilee drew back and suppressed a shiver. He said nothing and finally Jubilee found her voice and approached him.
"Logan, what's going on?" She licked her lips, her gaze going to the pack on the back of his scoot "You're leaving again. That's it, isn't it?"
"That's about the size of it," he replied. His voice sounded gruff, almost a growl. "I appreciate the birthday party, darlin'. That's the nicest thing that anyone has done for me in a long time and yer right, I'll remember it, but now it's time for the Canucklehead to take off before he grows roots."
"No," she said, her voice strangled. She quickly covered the few feet dividing them, threw her hands around his neck and hugged him tight. Now was not the time to be flirtatious or coy. "Don't leave again. I couldn't stand it." Her voice was muffled against his neck. "Please. Don't."
"I need to go," he said. His hands gripped her upper arms.
"You're leaving because of me, I just know it." Jubilee tried to hold back the tears and choke them down but her emotions demanded outlet. She clung to him tighter. "I'm sorry, Logan. I'm sorry I'm bossy. I'm sorry I'm a smartass. I'm sorry for whatever I've done to make you want to leave. I promise I'll be good, and I won't wear the bikini."
Logan half groaned and half chuckled. His arms went around her, almost crushing her to him. "Darlin'," he said, his lips near her ear and she felt him breathe deeply. "This is not yer fault. Don't blame yerself. Never blame yerself. An' I like the bikini, too much I think."
"Then don't leave, I love--" she began.
"Don't say it, Jubes. I'm beggin' ya' not to." He caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles.
And Jubilee realized that they weren't going to see each other for a very very long time. Well, if this is it, I have nothing to lose. Before he could guess what she was about, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, opening her mouth brushing her tongue over his lips. That he didn't immediately push her away increased her boldness. She slid her hands over his shoulders, up the side of his neck and into his hair. He finally groaned against her mouth and then he was kissing her back, gathering her closer against him, tracing his fingers up her spine touching the skin left bare by the crop top. Another hand slid up along her ribcage and under her shirt to settle underneath the swell of one breast. Shivers of longing danced up and down her body from her toes to her head. She'd been kissed before, but every kiss she'd experienced in college paled in comparison. This first kiss from Logan was all she had expected.
A growl, deep and passionate, rumbled through Logan and heat curled up through Jubilee's stomach. Her desire cried out for fulfillment, completion to the ultimate end.
"No holding back this time, no games," she whispered against his lips and jerked his shirttails out of his jeans and popped the pearl snaps on his shirt.
With complete freedom, she ran her hands over his hard stomach, tracing each washboard ab then traveling up over his chest, over the perfection of each well-defined muscle. She looked up him and his eyes were closed. Logan was magnificent, so elementally male and he was hers. Then he was kissing her again, this was no dream, it was better than anything she could have imagined. His lips left hers and nibbled along her jawline and down her neck, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. The hand under her shirt pushed aside her flimsy bra and settled on her breast. Jubilee purred and quivered.
"I ain't doin' this. I can't." Logan pulled away so suddenly that she swayed and would have fallen if he hadn't reached out, grabbed her forearm and steadied her. He released her and snapped up his shirt, but didn't bother to tuck it back in. "I shouldn't o' done it," he said. His voice was hoarse, his face strained. His arousal obvious and Jubilee flushed with pleasure knowing he had been affected as much as she.
They were both breathing hard and for a moment Jubilee couldn't speak. She took a deep breath and found her voice. "You... you can't kiss me like that and expect me to believe you think this was a mistake." She touched her lips and Logan's gaze followed the motion. He seemed to struggle with something and she took a step toward him. "Logan, I know you want what I want. Why is that bad?" She realized that this was what Remy had warned her about. Don't make the man break his code. Logan still thought of her as a child, as his responsibility. That she had grown up was the very thing Logan was afraid of. He wanted to think her as a fifteen-year-old mall rat with a sassy mouth and an attitude problem. "I'm not a little girl anymore."
"Doesn't matter. Too old fer ya'," he said.
"Logan, using that logic you're too old for everyone." Jubilee held out her arms in silent supplication. "By the time I'm old enough for you, I--like any normal person--will be dead!"
"Then switch age for experience." A hint of exasperation crept into his tone.
"Teach me," she whispered, her fingers undoing the top button of her shirt, moving down to the second. She pushed aside the material to show the lacy red bra underneath.
Logan groaned, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Girl, you don't know what you're asking for." His jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists at his side. He strode up to her and folded her into his arms, his cheek resting on the top of her head. This embrace was different, loving but not passionate, caring but not heated. "I'm not the one to teach you those things Jubes. I'm not the one." He pulled her away gently and looked at her face, swiping a thumb across her cheek. "I'm gonna miss you more than ya' know. You be good and do yer ole' Canucklehead proud."
"So you're just going to get on that Harley and ride away?" she asked, wanting to snuggle deeper into him, wanting her dreams to be reality.
"Yeah, darlin'," his voice was hoarse when he replied. He straddled the Harley and snapped back the kickstand with the heel of his cowboy boot. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do for your sake and my sanity." He started the motorcycle, the engine noise drowning out the sounds of the party and the band.
"Coward," Jubilee said, and they both knew this cowardice had nothing to do with bravery.
"That's right darlin', you scare the hell out o' me 'en I'm runnin' away."
"I've been your friend, Logan, and you've been my surrogate brother, father. At least in that capacity you owe it to me to talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking, tell me what I can do to keep you home."
"There's no simple answer. I need to get back to doing what I do best and you need to get on with your life, one that has nothing to do with me." Logan put the motorcycle in gear. "You'll go far Jubes, and you don't need me around to hold you back." He turned the motorcycle around and rode off down the driveway.
Jubilee ran a dozen steps after him then stopped.Ý "Logan. I love...," she began then bit back the words. Angrily she swiped away her tears with the back of her hand and clenched her fists at her thighs. "You cocky, arrogant jerk!" She held up a middle finger in the direction of the disappearing Harley while a few angry sparklers rained from the upraised fingertip.
* * * *
Logan turned his motorcycle into Hardcase's lot. At 11pm the rutted, dirt parking area was filled with Harley Davidsons and a few battered trucks. He turned off the Harley, kicked forward the kickstand and swung off.
"Hey, asshole!" a guy called from the corner of the building. He sat on a dilapidated brick planter filled with dead plants and smoked a cigarette with another biker. "You blocked me in ya' dumb moron."
"Don't mess with that little fucker," another biker with long greasy blond hair said, he was sitting near them on his bike while drinking a beer. "He's trouble."
"Yeah right. I ain't afraid of this runt. I can handle him," the other said and spat on the ground.
"Whatever. Don't say I didn't warn you," the greasy blond replied, shrugged and took a sip of his beer.
Logan, striding for the bar door, changed course without a break in stride and headed toward the guy who smirked and took his cigarette out of his mouth. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear," the biker sneered. "Move your sled fuckhead."
"Hey, that rhymes." His drunken buddy chuckled. "Sled and fuckhead. Heh heh."
Logan said nothing, didn't pause or halt, just took the last step toward the loudmouth and struck. His fist connected on the guy's jaw with a muted crack. Blood flew from his nose in an upward arc, and his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell backwards without a sound. The guy's drunk companion rose to help, Logan crouched, spun and rammed his elbow into the other's solar plexus. One out cold, the other clutching his stomach and groaning, Logan looked to the half-dozen other bikers who had gathered around.
"Anyone else have something they want to say ta' me?"
"No man, I'm cool." The biker sitting on his Harley held up his hands. "I warned him not to fuck with you."
"Maybe next time he'll listen to a friend's sound advice," Logan said and then looked at the two guys lying on the dirty asphalt. "Thanks for the fight, asshole." He turned back toward the bar and entered, throwing open the door. It hit the wall with a loud bang and shivered closed on its hinges. He ignored the startled looks cast his way as he stalked across the floor and sat down on a stool.
"Evenin' Logan, you look like a man on a mission," Hardcase said. "I'll send you the bill for the door."
"You flamin' do that," he growled, and rubbed his right fist. The scratches on his knuckles had already healed.
"What you do to Eddie out there?" Hardcase asked.
"Taught him some flamin' manners. He needs to watch that mouth of his." Logan brushed at red flecks on his leather jacket. "Son of a bitch bled on me."
Hardcase popped a half dozen shotglasses onto the bar. "Want me to line you up six of whisky?"
"That would be a good start, and give me a beer chaser with those." Logan leaned one elbow on the bar. "Did you find a commander for that job in El Salvador?"
"No, still looking and the team is restless," Hardcase replied and filled six shot glasses. "Other individual offers for the men are coming down the line. They've only held on this long because the money is enough that some of them could retire. I may have to pass on it and that'd be too bad, unless you have some suggestions."
"Yer lookin' at the man who's gonna lead that team." He drank the first shot, savoring the slow burn.
"Logan, it's not that I don't want you aboard, and you're exactly the kind of man I need to lead this crew, but..." Hardcase's eyes narrowed, "this don't have to do with that gal does it?"
"What the flamin' hell does it matter?" Logan growled. His hand shot out and bunched Hardcase's collar up in one thick fist and held him there, slightly suspended for a moment. He grunted and let the man go. "Ain't none o' yer business either way. All that matters is that I'm here and I'm ready." His smile was unpleasant. "An' I'm ready to dole out some serious butt kickin'. It's been too long an' I'm getting' restless myself." Logan knew that Hardcase was too smart a merc to turn down the opportunity of adding Logan--an experienced commander--to his payroll. Hardcase stuck his hand over the bar and they shook.
"Welcome aboard, Logan. Men are bunkin' down at the Cloud Nine. I'll get Nan to take my place rest for the rest of the night and I'll be down about 2300 hours for briefing. We'll be flyin' out in the mornin'."
"Sooner we leave the better," Logan said, and pointed over the bar. "And hand me that bottle o' whisky."
Hardcase complied. "To any other man I'd say no, but Logan, I've never seen anyone who can put it down like you and walk a straight line. Your kidneys must be made out of iron."
"Something like that," he returned as he left the bar, whisky bottle clamped in one big hand.
* * * *
Epilogue
"Damn," Jubilee muttered, kicked at a rock in the driveway. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I will not cry because of him. I will not." Plastering a false smile on her face, she wandered back to the party. The party was dispersing, the band packing up and people saying goodbye. It just depressed her more.
"Where's Logan?" Storm asked. Jubilee jumped, she hadn't heard the other woman come over.
"Gone." Jubilee swung her legs over the bench at the table where only a few crumbs of Logan's cake remained. A half eaten carton of vanilla ice cream sat to one side. It was melting. She grabbed a serving spoon and dipped in and watched the substance drip in huge clots off the spoon back into the carton.
"Gone where, Jubilee?" the woman prompted and planted her hands on her hips.
Jubilee shoved the entire spoonful in her mouth. "How should I know," she mumbled and gestured with the spoon. "He up and left, just like he always does. Gone. Sayonara. Adios. Ciao. Buh-bye. Get it?"
"Perhaps the professor knows, because it appears I won't get an answer from you," Storm sighed and walked away shaking her head.
"Damn him," Jubilee muttered between bites. She was still sitting alone when the caterers began cleaning up. By then, stuffing spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth had become automatic; she didn't even taste it any longer. She was cold, she didn't care.
"Hey," said a voice behind her. "Mind if I join you." Jubilee turned around and found Doug, that tall, handsome blonde guy, who had been with M. "Is there enough for another?" He held up another serving spoon.
Jubilee's first reaction was to tell him to go away, but instead she shrugged and pushed the ice cream carton toward him. "It's a free world." He sat next ot her and she scooted over.
"I'm Doug," he said between bites. "You're Jubilee."
"Yeah, we meet earlier. You're with M." She had noticed him, it was difficult not to. He reminded her of a California surfer dude, but more articulate and nicely dressed in Chinos, deck shoes and a white dress shirt. Casual but elegant. Just M's type. She was surprised he was bothering to talk to her and not hanging and drooling all over M like most guys.
"I'm not with her," he said. "She's a friend. I've been meaning to speak with you all night, but... uh, that guy you were hanging with was pretty scary looking."
"Guy?" She stabbed the spoon into the ice cream. She frowned. "Oh, yeah, that was just Logan."
"Just Logan?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I'd describe him as 'just' anything."
Jubilee smiled a little at that and licked at the mound of vanilla ice cream. She shrugged. "Most the time he's pretty harmless unless you piss him off."
"Harmless," he repeated. "Uh, far be it from me to irritate him."
"Smart move." She just wanted to be left alone to smother her sorrows in vanilla ice cream. Then she felt something cozy and heavy fall around her shoulders. Doug had taken off his blazer.
"You were shivering," he said.
"Thanks," she said, surprised by the kind gesture. His coat was very warm.
"Look, before you blow me off, just let me say that I work with Senator Grossman and we're always looking for talented, bright interns. I heard you're a politics major."
"Really?" Jubilee perked up and paused in mid-bite. She lowered the spoon. "You work with Senator Grossman?" He was a mutant advocate. She had wanted to get an internship with him but wasn't certain how to approach him without revealing that she was a mutant.
"Well at least something grabbed your attention besides that big scary guy."
"Sorry. I've had kinda a bummer of a night." She held out a hand and he took it. His hand was warm and she liked the feel of it. Maybe he wasn't so bad. "Nice to meet you again."
"Would you like to get out of here and talk? There's a great jazz club down the road--"
"Look, that's a nice offer but I'm not in the mood."
"My treat?" His pleading look reminded her of a puppy, then he held up his hands, palms out. "No pressure, not a date. We'll just talk about politics and I can outline for you the type of people the senator looks for. Who knows, we could be working together."
Jubilee dropped the spoon back into the ice cream. "Why not," she heard herself say. Why not? She repeated silently. Logan just left her, and here was a very good-looking guy who wanted to be with her. Why the heck not.
Doug stood and held out his arm. She took it and he lead her across the lawn toward the front of the mansion. By the time they had reached his car, a snazzy blue BMW, they were deep in conversation about current affairs and the mutant rights bill.
Logan? Jubilee thought and climbed into the comfortable leather upholstered car. Doug cast her one of his thousand watt smiles and she smiled back. Logan who?
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