He was going to kill her, he was going to kill her and dump the body in the woods and if anyone said anything to him he was going to kill them too, morals be damned. The mighty Wolverine heaved a heavy sigh loaded with his frustrations from over the past several days; he ran stiff fingers through bristled hair as he tried to calm himself. His fingers ached from the many times he had over cracked them in an attempt to control himself. Looking around the dingy room they had rented off the interstate he had to wonder for the umpteenth time how he got himself into these situations. Another sigh before he tried approaching the door again.
“Kid, it’s been three hour’s…get the fuck out of the damned bathroom!”
Logan didn’t have to go, not anymore! He’d relieved himself in the parking lot about an hour and a half ago when it become painfully obvious that this girl was taking an obscene amount of time in the only bathroom the room had. If not for Logan’s nose he would have wondered exactly what she was doing in there.
One might have figured that she was going to be a long time considering the amount of shit they had to buy before she even agreed to hunker down for the night. Star, and he really wanted to assign her a new name when they got to Xavier’s because, he for one, would personally testify that she was no fucking Star. She insisted that they stop to buy toiletries and feminine supplies. These were not things a man such as himself knew a whole lot about, but he took her to the one place he bought all of his hygiene products-the gas station. Apparently a bar of soap and a bucket of diesel wasn’t what the girl had in mind when she said “toiletries”. She made him drive for nearly an extra hour just to find a god damned grocery store that was open and when they did find it, she’d pranced up and down the aisles moving about as fast as a square stone rolling down a hill. The way she looked over each aisle and then ran to another one, only to return to the one she had been in not three minutes later and resurvey the area as if in her short absence the whole aisle had rearranged itself on her. Logan wanted to kill her, sincerely wished her injury.
Losing his patience and not for the first time that day he banged harshly on the door.
“Kid!”
“I’m almost done fur face, just….go eat some beef jerky or something I don’t know, Jesus!”
He was going to kill her…
He sighed again, this time he was trying to alleviate the pressure which was slowly building behind his eyes. He knew, and don’t ask him how, but he knew that his mutation had been working overtime to ward off a headache-no! A migraine, which had been bubbling up ever since the little disease in the bathroom had crawled into his truck, well high jacked his truck. Normally his healing factor made sure he never saw hide nor hair of a migraine but some way, somehow this little slip of a girl, no not a girl he would never refer to that demon hogging the shower as a girl, but somehow the previously stated problem had managed to actually send his mutation into overtime because he could feel the pain behind his eyes, and pressing the bridge of his nose was having less and less of an affect. How did normal people do this every day?
Logan grabbed a beer and literally shuddered in satisfaction at the sound of the can being split open. He was going to enjoy this, a nice beer in blissful silence. It might be the last thing on this god damned trip from hell that he’d get the chance to enjoy. Honestly, if the professor didn’t already know they were coming Logan figured he would have killed that girl already. Logan cringed to recount the earlier conversation.
Upon telling Star that they were indeed going to see Professor Xavier, famed mutant activist, although Logan was acutely aware he’d never heard of the professor until he’d met him with Marie, apparently other people had. She starred wide eyed at him and persisted to accuse and bombard him with questions and interrogations until Logan couldn’t stand it anymore and actually popped out a warning claw at her to suggest she better ship up or prepared to be sliced up.
She still couldn’t believe it though, apparently Logan didn’t meet the expectations the girl had come to associate with someone as, how had she put it?
“Prestigious as Charles Xavier” she’d called him scruffy and said that he needed to stop at a gas station so she could pee, Logan should have smelled the lie but it went right over his head, his head which was filled with pretty fantasies about dropping her off at the gas station and leaving her there, never to see her again.
Once they got to the gas station the girl hopped out and came around to his side of the truck, starring at him expectantly as he smoked his stogie. He’d eyed her wearily, something that was only increasing in frequency on this road trip nightmare and when she didn’t speak he offered a sarcastically merit worthy response.
“Didja need help or something?”
Before He became fully agitated.
“No, I need you to get out of the truck, you have to give me a hand.”
With that she walked off toward the pay phone and when Logan made no signal to move she merely yelled across the station parking lot.
“Honey I really do think we should call the doctor, the rash is only getting worse!”
That earned him a few serious stares and one guy passing by his open truck window had actually looked at him like he was the world’s worst god damned pervert. Star was young enough to be his daughter, but it wasn’t like he was the one yelling out obscenities in broad day light! He did get out the truck- of course at the time it was only because he didn’t have a mutation that allowed him to filet her from across a tar topped parking lot, but he was working on fixing the distance issue rapidly and planning the severe world o’hurt he wanted to leave her in.
He reached her and the first thing he noticed was the ridiculously satisfied grin she wore on her face, he wanted to destroy her, he couldn’t describe it any other way.
“Okay, sorry,” she would do the craziest things and say sorry like she even knew what that word meant!
She held the payphone out to him.
“Call him.”
“Call who?”
It came out sounding a little more savage then he would have liked and he ground out the words in what must have been a scary fashion because she actually gulped and took a step back. Good.
“Call Xavier.”
“Why?”
“Listen, bub,” she was mocking him, he’d made the colossal mistake of calling one gas attendant bub that’d come over to ask him some asinine question at least 300 miles ago and she’d started saying the word almost immediately.
“Cut the Bub crap!”
“Sorry Bub.”
That little smirk again, he wanted to tear it off of her. She was mocking him in the middle of a gas station parking lot full of people who probably thought he had fucking herpes now and he was going to kill her and be done with it. That was just it.
The smirk fell of her face and he assumed it was because of how he looked, ready to kill her, but who knew with this girl.
“Honestly.”
He snorted, now there was a word she definitely didn’t know the first thing about!
“H-o-n-e-s-t-l-y,” She ground out the word as she annunciated it, “you have to admit I don’t know you and you have to admit you could be driving me into white slavery for all I know.”
Logan began to protest but she just cut him, and NO, it hadn’t been for the first time that day.
“I’ve trusted you a lot up until this point, instinct, something I rely heavily on told me you’re not that bad, contrary to my personal opinion but hey.”
He growled and he didn’t care who saw it, he was seriously going to throw her into a tree. Star’s belonged up high anyway; maybe he should just get her off earth. Stars weren’t on earth, and now he knew why.
“Just call Xavier’s all right, get him on the phone let me hear his voice, it is hard to believe.”
Growling, grumbling and a little shaky because he’d never had to try this hard to keep his claws *in before, he grabbed the pay phone and dialed the number for the school, the faculty line.
I was only 7:30 at this point, so he figured they would pick up.
A clear crisp African accent chirped into the phone and Logan couldn’t help but smirk.
“Yeah, hey Ro’ it’s Logan, is the professor around?”
“Logan! Hello!” She was cheerful at first before a subdued “is everything alright?” shifted her demeanor from happy to concern in a split second. She was as fickle as the weather.
“Yeah, everything’s fine, just had to talk to him about some business.”
“One minute Logan, let me get him.”
Silence, shifting, sound of footsteps, more silence, waiting. He burrowed his free hand into his pocket, to keep from strangling the little pain in the ass next to him who thought this was such a brilliant idea. He could have been calling his fellow slave traders for all she knew, but he didn’t want to say that because he was putting up with enough bullshit. Finally, sound of wheels being pulled mechanically across a carpet.
“Logan, Ororo told me you’d asked to speak to me is everything all right?”
The crisp British accent was enough to make Logan seriously hate the girl in front of him for making him do this, but he bucked up and balancing his weight on the balls of his feet he began explaining to the professor, who he, by the way, expected already knew a little bit about the situation.
“Yeah Professor," he emphasized the word as he turned to Star so she’d realize who he was talking to, “I picked up a runaway up in Canada."
He wanted to add, ‘ya know again’ but refrained as he continued.
"She’s a kid. She’s a mutant, she’s …well she’s actually just about the most unpleasant experience I’ve ever had on the road but she wanted to speak with you.”
He didn’t know what it was but whenever he spoke with the professor Logan had an urge to talk properly, he didn’t think of himself as an intellectual but he wondered if he had been one before he lost his memories, someone whose vocabulary hadn’t been limited to grunts, growls and nodding.
“I’m delighted, and Logan I trust that you wouldn’t actually talk about her as unpleasant when she was within hearing range, it really is no way to treat a child.”
Logan wanted to tell the professor unpleasant hadn’t even been the right word to use and that she was a bottom feeding little urchin but he didn’t have the chance before Star ripped the phone out of his hand.
“Professor Xavier?”
“Hello, and who am I speaking with?”
“Forgive me, I can’t tell you that yet, but I’m wearing a red sweater.”
With that Star hung up the payphone, Logan stood there slack jawed like an idiot with wide eyes.
He should have taken her to a doctor, he should have realized from the first moment he’d met her that whatever was wrong with her wasn’t something a school for mutant could fix. An asylum now, there was an idea!
“What in the nine bowels of hell do you think you’re doin girl?!”
“Shh!”
She shooed him away with a gloved hand, he didn’t even realize she had gloves, and turned her back to him.
“You made me call the man so you could hang up on him?”
“Shut up, okay? Christ, I told you I couldn’t trust you!”
He really didn’t smell drugs in the air, where was she stashing them?
“Then why did you have me call?!”
He saw her punch in a three digit number on the phone and he idly wondered what the hell was she doing? And where the hell could one go in Canada to buy a straight jacket?
He couldn’t’ help himself standing there, muttering about crazy mutant teenagers and wondered how society saw fit to lock up certain people but let other ones like this girl wonder around free.
“Yes operator,” it was a sweet and pleasant voice and Logan wondered who it belonged to, “I was wondering if you could give me the phone number for Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters, in Westchester, New York.”
He could see clearly enough the words coming out of her mouth but that didn’t sound like the girl he’d been driving with. This voice belonged to…well...a nice person.
“Yes, that’s X,A,V,I,E,R.”
“Thank you so much,” she was smiling like a Cheshire cat, even if her voice did make her sound normal her face gave it all away, “you have a good day too.”
She hung up the phone before fishing around in her pockets for more quarters. Finding them easily enough she slipped them into the pay phone and punched in another number.
Logan didn’t know what number the operator had given her, usually he called the faculty line, or what Xavier had referred to as the faculty line when he’d given him the number. He wondered if that was what she got.
On the other end of the phone, Logan could heard the sounds of a recorded voice, if he had to guess he’d say it sounded like Jeannie, but the slow way the speaker drew out their words, as if talking with someone with autism he was able to distinguish the difference between a real person speaking and a tape recording.
He heard Star muttering to herself.
“Press four for a representative.”
Ringing, ringing.
“Hello, Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters, how may I help you?”
Logan almost fell down dead when the next words came out of Star’s mouth.
“Hi, my name’s Lorna Fishbourne, I’m calling in regards to a man I’ve recently come into contact with that claims to be associated with your institution and I was hoping to verify his identity before taking further action, would you be able to tell me if Professor Xavier was available, it is urgent that I speak with him.”
It wasn’t the lies that were tumbling out of the girl’s mouth faster than she could speak, and it wasn’t the fact that he needed boots just to stand next to her this bullshit creek was so deep, but her voice was completely different. She sounded like a librarian or an Office Clerk, not that Logan knew many of those people but hey you ran into them from time to time. The teacher type, he liked to call them. She just didn’t sound like the wicked little tramp he’d been lugging across Canada. Maybe she had split personalities?
The person on the other end of the phone, a man and possibly Scott but Logan couldn’t hear well enough to determine, was speaking back to…Lorna Fishbourne? What a retarded name, he thought.
“I’m sorry, you said your name was…?”
“Fishbourne, Lorna Fishbourne, and may I ask with whom am I speaking?”
“Scott, Scott Summers, I’m a teacher here and Professor Xavier’s personal assistant, and may I ask what is the name of the man you’re calling about today?”
“Oh, I’m sorry how foolish of me, I’m calling about a Mr.,” Star panicked for the first time, and putting her hand over the end of the phone and holding it away from herself she turned to Logan.
“Psst! Mountain man what’s your last name?”
Hell if he knew, he just shrugged. Not that he had a lot of intentions of helping her anyway.
She sighed, exasperated, before returning to the phone.
“I’m sorry Sir, I had to consult my paperwork, his name is Mr. Logan, although I believe that’s his first name.”
If Logan didn’t miss his guess, he’d say he could see her blushing. Was she…embarrassed?
Telling a grown man to his face that she was stealing his truck, that wasn’t shameful but screwing up and using his first name as a last name? That was worth blushing over?! Oh this girl was a coo-coo bird waiting to pop, he had to get her the mansion and as far away from him as possible.
He could hear the almost gleeful tint of Scott’s voice through the phone.
“Ah, Mr. Logan, of course! Yes the Professor will be overjoyed to hear that you’ve got him, tell me please, is he in a lot of trouble?”
Logan could hear every word and it made the skin over his knuckles itch, almost as bad as Scott in person did and just about as bad as “Lorna Fishbourne” over here had managed to.
He could just picture that gay mega watt smile that Scott always wore and it only infuriated him more, as a matter of fact Scott and this little time bomb in front of him had that in common, the undeniable talent to piss him off in record time. Maybe there was something to that…they both shot out beams of light too…
Star was at a loss, weren’t these people supposed to like Logan? Cuz’ this guy sounded awfully excited at the prospect of him being in a pickle. Maybe they, or rather the person she was speaking to, meant someone else and the guy standing behind her really was full of it and didn’t know any of these people? She shook her head to dislodge the unpleasant thoughts as she began again.
“Well to be perfectly candid Sir, the details of the incident are, at present time, classified, I mean I’m only a bonafide secretary really and I have explicit instructions to speak with a Professor Charles Xavier and only Professor Xavier, I am sorry but I do appreciate your efforts Sir.”
“This does sound serious, please Mrs. Fishbourne just give me a moment while I get the Professor.”
The sound of elevator music filled the line and Star turned to Logan and he could see the act was over and she was back to her charming self.
“These people are supposed to be your friends? This guy sounded like he wanted you to be in trouble-I knew it wasn’t just me, you really are a pain in the –“
“Hello, Professor Xavier Speaking, may I ask who I am speaking with please?”
Star was excited beyond belief, this was him! This was the same guy!! At least he sounded the same, voice textured and aged with time, sprinkled with a British accent. She had to be sure, she took a deep breath.
“Hi professor, I think we spoke recently, do you know what color sweater I’m wearing?”
She heard a silence on the other end and then Professor Xavier began laughing.
Star was scarred, was it him or wasn’t it? He should know exactly what she was talking about…
“I presume I’m talking with the girl Logan met in Canada? You know my dear it really is rude to hang up on someone, but I am glad there was a point to your actions.”
She could hear the laughter in his voice and it made her all the more eager to reach through the phone and hug the life out of him.
“I’m so sorry I did that, I just had to be sure, you know Logan comes off a little,” she had a long list of words to choose from but it was shortened when she realized who she was talking to, she had to try not to act crude, “well he comes off a little harsh but I guess it’s just the nature of his personality.”
They exchanged pleasantries and Star told him her name at least, but other than that the professor wasn’t any more successful in obtaining information than Logan had been and at the end of a respectful amount of time Star handed Logan the phone.
He told the professor a few things Star didn’t understand and said they’d be there in three days at the most and hung up the phone.
That memory was hours old and afterward Logan had been nicer to the girl; he would give her the tiniest iota of credit, for coming up with that idea, which made more sense to him as a whole. He even hated her a little less, again by the tiniest iota, because when she had spoken with the professor Logan had been assaulted by the smell coming off of her. It was just sheer joy and he could see this glimmer of something that had been in her eye ever since, Logan guessed you would call it hope.
However, sitting in the dingy room after she’d been in the bathroom for over two and half hours, and after pissing in the parking lot, Logan could thoroughly say that he was fed up and ready to kill her again.
He figured he couldn’t kill her now because the Professor expected him to come home with her, and if not for the fact that Marie was at the school Logan would just not show up for another decade and then stop by. That was the sacrifice he was willing to make if it meant he got to drive home in peace.
The bathroom door opened, finally and steam followed the girl out in thick clouds, rolling out of the room to Logan. The steam brought with it every sugary, flowery smell that Logan couldn’t stand and he coughed at the intrusion of foreign smells invading his nostrils.
“There, all done, bathrooms all yours.”
She had that shit eating grin on again and Logan hated her, oh how he hated her. He wished she knew or he wished he had a way of expressing to her, that the only thing saving her right now was the fact that the professor was a strong enough telepath to read his mind and Logan wouldn’t be able to lie and say she’d chosen not to come.
He sighed, dejectedly this time and finished his beer. It was going to be one long ass night.
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