"Fucking piece of shit! I'm going to take a fucking sledgehammer to you if you don't start to fucking work!"

Three fucks, Logan counted, leaning against the wall outside the garage. Apparently, Rogue was frustrated with the engine she'd sworn up and down she could build from his memories alone.

Sharp sounds of metal hitting something solid echoed in Logan's hearing, followed by a string of indistinct cursing. Logan grinned. He was going to win this bet.

Rogue gave a cry, and then, the sweet sound of a finely tuned engine complimented her voice. Logan's smile disappeared.

He was screwed.