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Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay! I'm not dead - I'm so sorry it's been so long since I updated! I had a grad school class first summer session that literally KILLED me it was so hard! Good news - I got a teaching job for this fall *dances* and I'm very happy to bring you the next chapter of Baby o' Mine. I'm getting ready to wrap it up, and this chap may seem a little serious for this particular type of humorous fic BUT I promise nothing bad happens to our favorite mutant baby! Just wait til next chappie, which I hope will be done by this weekend!

Suggested listening, "Be Be Your Love" by Rachael Yamagata

Everybody's talking how I can't can't be your love
But I want want wanna be your love
Wanna be your love for real
And everybody's talking how I can't can't be your love
But I want want wanna be your love
Be your love for real
Want to be everything
Everything, and everything's falling, and I'm included in that
“Does Marie, uh, look bigger to you, Logan?” Scott asked tentatively, hands possessively clutching his new iPhone. He sat well out of striking distance, and had been minding his own business until the feral mutant had entered the kitchen with his infant terror in tow a few minutes prior.

Sometime in between the fifth jar of baby food that Marie had knocked out of Logan’s grip and the fourth cracked and mutilated high-chair tray, Scott had noticed that Marie had all of her baby teeth, was babbling, and attempting to feed herself. Thanks to the baby development books Jean was having him read, he had also noted that Marie was now holding herself up and was remarkably dexterous.

She was a far cry from the wailing infant Logan had brought home almost two weeks ago.

Logan cocked an eyebrow back, scrutinizing Marie carefully. His fingers reached out to touch her softly curling locks and she cooed delightedly, “I dunno Scooter, she has gained some weight, plus her teeth have come in. I guess I’ll take her down to Hank later to see what he thinks.”

Relieved that Logan hadn’t snapped his head, or any other important, functioning limb off (he still hadn’t forgotten the babynapping incident, even with all the baby toys and peace offerings that kept arriving by surprise at the feral’s door) Scott made his way towards the exit rapidly.

“Where you going in such a hurry, Scooter?” Logan asked, one hand rubbing wearily behind his ear, “I need some help carrying her down to the infirmary.”

“Wha... you’re a big boy Logan, why don’t you do it yourself?” Scott asked cautiously.

“Well, somebody’s gotta carry this diaper bag Scooter, and face it, you still owe me,” Logan smirked.

“I don’t owe you anything Logan, I mean, seriously! Come on! How much more are you gonna try to milk out of me?” Scott asked, incredulous at Logan’s behavior.

“Well, who’s to say I didn’t make copies of that tape, Scooter? I think if you want the ol’ adamantium six to take a shine to your dirty laundry and make them ‘disappear’ for good you might just try to butter me up a little one-eye,” Logan said, his smirk widening to a shit-eating grin that made Scott’s skin itch.

“Alright, you effing con-artist,” Scott acquiesced, “But this is the last time I’m helping you.”

Scott leaned down to pick up Marie’s diaper bag, groaning as he lifted the massive Vera Bradley, hot pink patterned paisley contraption up and across his shoulders, “What the hell do you have in this thing anyways?” he asked.

“Well, I haven’t had time to clean out some of Marie’s carbonadium poopy diapers, so they’re in the side pouch, right under your hand there,” Logan said, gesturing towards the pocket upon which Scott’s fingers conspicuously rested.

“Son of a bitch, Logan!” Scott practically shrieked. Logan winced at the high pitched sound, then snickered to himself at the thought of Scott squealing like a girl.

The two left the kitchen, Logan tucking Marie into her duct tape reinforced baby Bjorn and Scott lamentably trailing behind. Hitting the elevator call button with his fist, Logan stepped on the fast moving lift, followed by Scott, who pushed the button to take them subterranean.

The elevator slipped two levels down, then ground to a sickening halt, gears scraping and screeching as a suspicious snapping noise was heard overhead. Logan’s eyes raised in alarm, and Scott fell on the floor, flat on his stomach.

“What the hell are you doing, Scooter?” Logan hissed, kicking the mutant in the side with one of his booted feet.

“If an elevator falls you’re supposed to lay down on the ground, it saves you from dying during the impact,” Scott hissed, eyebrows furrowing overtop of his visor.

“Super healing,” Logan replied, “No elevator fall can kill me.”

“What about Marie, then?” Scott asked, “She can’t survive a fall like that!”

“Wanna bet? This girl’s got impervious skin as well as constant access to the fountain of medical youth, one touch, and she’ll be healed, good as new.”

“Still, I can’t! I’m too young to die,” Scott wailed, wallowing on the elevator’s carpeted floor.

Logan bounced, wincing as the elevator jiggled under the force of his weight. Sighing, he reached for the emergency phone, pulling it up to his ears to check for a dial tone.

“Um, Logan?” Scott murmured, softly, “The cord isn’t attached to the wall.”

“Motherfucker!” Logan snarled, tossing the phone. Frowning furiously, he leaned down, unstrapping the baby Bjorn, “Hold on to her, don’t let go of her, if you do I’ll fucking chop off your left middle toe, and then the rest of you piece by piece!”

“O...okay,” Scott stammered, carefully strapping the baby to his chest, but not moving from his prone position on the floor.

Grumbling under his breath, Logan bounced lightly on the balls of his feat then leapt upwards, three claws stabbing through the roof of the car while his hand made quick work of the ceiling tiles covering the emergency exit. Popping it out and upwards, Logan wedged himself out of the opening to climb on top of the car.

One of the cables for the elevator was severed and rusted, probably unseen damage from one of Ice-Man’s escapades or Pyro’s moody sojourns into various hidey holes around the mansion while going through his ‘emo’ stage. Rubbing a hand wearily across his face, Logan looked up the shaft. They were stuck somewhere between sublevels two and three, which left him twenty feet from the first floor of the mansion and some seventy-five feet from the chamber that held Cerebro.

Logan jumped across the small gap between the elevator and the wall, claws extended. Just as they imbedded themselves in the concrete next to his head, a sickening groan echoed through the elevator cables. Logan looked on in horror as the intact cable strained under the weight of holding both the car and its occupants, then snapped clean in two.

The car seemed to hover for a moment in mid-air before plummeting towards the shaft floor below with a sickening whistling noise.

“Oh God, Marie!” Logan yelped, before letting go of his perch and diving after the elevator car.
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