Act V
1.
Bobby turned the light on as they entered the hotel room. Rogue began undressing as he walked to the window and peered out into the darkness. Across the street, he could see a man standing under an arch. Bobby watched him for a few seconds, then drew the blinds.
"We've still got our shadow."
"Bobby, please, don't go to that meeting tonight," Rogue pleaded.
"I have to," he replied soberly. "Besides, it isn't often I get to be heroic in front of you, Rogue." He gave her the boyish smile that so endeared him to her.
"Don't joke. After Hodge's warning, I'm scared."
"Tell you the truth, babe, I'm frightened too. Should I stay here in the hotel room, hiding, or should I carry on the best that I can?" he challenged. "What would Scott or the Professor want me to do?"
She sighed and sat down on the bed. "You'll do what you want no matter what I say, Bobby. You always do." She fiddled with her gloves. "Why don't you tell me what happened with Logan?"
"Apparently, he has the letters."
"And?"
"He has no intention of selling them, at least not to me. You'd think that if he wouldn't do it for money, he'd at least do it for sentimental reasons."
Rogue shifted uneasily. "Did he tell you why?"
Bobby arched an eyebrow. "He said I should ask you."
"Ask me?" She cursed the way her voice squeaked when she said it.
"Yeah. He said, 'Ask your wife.' I don't know why he said that. I didn't even know you'd told him we were married." He turned the light off and sat next to her on the bed. She kept her eyes down.
The silence stretched uncomfortably.
"Rogue, I --"
"Yeah?"
"When I was in the camp, were you lonely?"
Rogue couldn't look at him. She swallowed hard, trying to make her voice work. "Yes, Bobby, I was." She was wringing her hands miserably.
"I know what it's like to be lonely," he said sympathetically, putting a hand over hers, stilling their motion. She closed her eyes. They had never spoken of their time apart. It was possible that he'd sought solace in the arms of someone else as well, she thought. She hoped he had. Being alone was terrible enough when you were free. Being alone and being imprisoned had to be a thousand times worse.
Finally, very softly he asked, "Is there anything you want to tell me?"
She matched his tone. "No, Bobby." Her hair hid her face.
"I love you very much, you know."
"Yes, Bobby, I know." She stood abruptly. "Bobby, whatever I do, will you believe that I -- that--"
"You don't even have to say it. I'll believe you." He rose and brushed a hand fleetingly across her cheek and lips; the light frost he left behind allowed him to kiss her without being hurt. "Good night, Rogue."
"Good night, Bobby."
He walked to the door and she closed her eyes, not want to watch him leave. The door opened and the dim light from the yellow bulb in the hall fell across her face, leaving her half in shadow. "Be careful," she whispered.
"Of course," he replied. "I always am." He brushed another kiss over her cheek before disappearing into the darkness of the hall.
She waited a few moments, then went to the window. Parting the blinds, she saw him walking down the street, followed by the man who'd been waiting under the arch.
Making sure Bobby was out of sight, she got dressed quickly and headed out into the night.
2.
Logan looked at Jubilee. "So?"
"We're in pretty good shape, Wolvie. I'd say we can stay closed for about two weeks, maybe three, before we start to feel it," she said, looking over the numbers on the spreadsheet.
"Maybe we won't have to. Bribes have worked before. In the meantime, I'll keep payin' your salaries."
Jubilee smiled. "Carl will be glad to hear that. I owe him money."
"You'll finish lockin' up, kid?" he asked, pulling another cigar out of his pocket.
"Yeah. Then I'm going to the --"
He held up a hand. "Don't tell me where you're goin'. I don't wanna know."
She sighed. "I won't."
He walked to the door that led to the stairs to his aparmennt. He paused, his hand on the doorknob. "Be careful, Jubilee."
She grinned. "Always am, Wolvie. I always am."
He walked up the stairs, feeling the weight of his metal bones for the first time in a long time.
He stopped in the hallway, frozen, nostrils flared. Opening the door, he drawled, "I told you this afternoon you'd come around, but this is even quicker than I expected. Have a seat."
Rogue turned away from the window and walked over to him. "I had to see you, Logan."
"Your unexpected presence isn't by any chance connected to the letters of transit, is it? As long as I have those damned things, I guess I'll never be lonely."
"We'll give you anything you want, but you have to give me those letters," she said, her voice filled with passion.
"I already went through this with your husband." He twisted the word, made it sound like an epithet. "No deal."
"I know how you feel about me, but I'm askin' you to put your feelings aside for somethin' more important."
"Do I have to hear about what a great guy the Iceman is again? And what an important cause he's fighting for?"
She put a hand on his arm and looked up into his face, trying to catch his eye. "It was your cause too, Logan. In your own way, you were fighting for the same thing." She ran her hand over the grooves between his knuckles.
He shook her off and walked to the window. She followed. "Logan, we loved each other once. If those days meant anything to you at all --"
His voice was harsh when he interrupted her. "I wouldn't bring up San Francisco if I were you. It's poor salesmanship."
"Please. Please listen to me. If you knew what really happened, if you only knew the truth--"
He broke in again. "I wouldn't believe you, no matter what you told me. You'd say anything now to get what you want." He looked down at his hand, surprised to see he was still holding a cigar. He stuck it in his mouth, looking in the desk for some matches.
"You want to feel sorry for yourself, don't you? With so much at stake, all you can think about is your own feelings. One woman has hurt you and you'll take revenge on the rest of the world. You're, you're a coward and a weakling." Her eyes shimmered with tears. She knew she was taking a huge risk. If anyone else had uttered those words, the claws would have been at their throat. It was proof that he still loved her that she wasn't facing them now. "I'm so sorry, Logan. I'm sorry, but you're our last hope. If you don't help us, Robert Drake will die in Tijuana."
"What of it?" he shot back. "I'm going to die in Tijuana. It's a good spot for it."
He turned away and lit the cigar. He heard her shuffling with something. When he turned back, he saw Rogue had her left glove off, and a small revolver in her right hand. It was pointed directly at him. "All right. I tried everything. Now I want those letters. Get them for me."
"I don't have to get them," he said. "I've got them right here." He tapped his pocket.
"Put them on the table," she ordered.
"No." He shook his head.
"For the last time, Logan, put them on the table."
"If Drake and the cause mean so much to you, you won't stop at anything," he replied.
"I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to."
"Go ahead and shoot," he said, moving closer to her. "You know it won't kill me." He grabbed the hand with the gun and pressed it to his chest. "Go on. I'll make it easier for you." He reached out and brushed his thumb against her cheek.
She jerked away, but not before she'd gotten a taste of what he was thinking and feeling. The love he had for her was overwhelming; she turned and walked away, leaning on his desk for support.
"Oh, God, Logan," she whispered, crying now. "I tried to stay away. I thought I'd never see you again, that you were out of my life." He moved behind her and encircled her in his arms, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. "The day you left, if you only knew what I went through. If you knew how much I loved you, how much I still love you!"
He pulled her scarf up over her lips and kissed her passionately. Rogue felt herself get lost in his embrace, the touch and feel and taste of him, everything she'd longed for since the first time she'd seen him, that long ago day in Laughlin City.
He carried her over to the couch, his lips leaving hers only long enough to trace a path of fire up to her ear and to whisper how much he loved her. She returned his kisses and caresses with equal fervor.
He came to his senses finally when her hand moved to unzip his jeans. "Marie," he panted, "we can't. I can't. Not like this."
"When did you develop morals, Logan?" she whispered. "I want to. I want --"
"You do now, but you'll hate yourself, and me, when you walk back into your hotel room and see Bobby later." He sat up and brushed the hair out of her eyes before buttoning her blouse with gentle fingers. She ran her hand over his, amazed at how tender he could be, even with nine-inch metal blades embedded in his arms.
She swallowed her objections. He was right. "Thank you."
He slid an arm around her and she rested her head on his chest. "Tell me what happened."
"Bobby and I got married shortly after the mansion was attacked. We lived with his parents, and it just seemed -- they were very old-fashioned, and well, I loved him. But then he was taken, and it was in all the newspapers that he'd been interned. I was frantic, terrified. For months I tried to get word. All I knew was that he'd been moved west. I followed. Finally, I heard.
"He was dead. Shot trying to escape. I was lonely. I had nothing. Not even hope. Everyone was dead, as far as I knew. Scott, the Professor, you -- I had nothing.
"And then you called my name, and life was worth living again."
"Why weren't you honest with me? Why keep the marriage a secret?" He stroked her back, trying to ease some of her tension.
"It wasn't my secret to keep, Logan. Bobby insisted. He wanted it that way. No one other than his parents knew. He felt it was safer for me that way. I knew so much about the work, and if the police or the FBI found out I was his wife, it would be dangerous for me and for those working with me. Not to mention that he was afraid they'd use me to get to him."
"When did you first find out that he was still alive?"
"The morning of our last day together. Remember I went to the market? A friend came and told me that Bobby was alive. They were hiding him at one of the vineyards in Napa. He was sick, he'd been injured, he needed me. I wanted to tell you -- both you and Storm -- but I didn't dare. I knew you'd have stayed, and you'd have been caught by the FBI. So I... well, you know the rest." She sniffed, trying to contain the sobs that wanted to escape.
"Huh. It's still a story without an ending," Logan mused. "What about now?"
"Now? I don't know. I know that I'll never have the strength to leave you again."
"And Drake?"
She raised her head to look at him, the tears spilling over silently. "You'll help him now, won't you, Logan? You'll make sure he gets out? Then he'll have his work -- that's all he lives for. Professor Xavier would be so proud."
"He'll have everything except you."
"I can't fight it anymore. When you left me that first time, I thought my heart would never mend. I ran away from you once and it almost killed me. I can't do it again. Oh, I don't know what's right anymore. You'll have to think for both of us, Logan. For all of us."
"All right, darlin'. I will," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair.
"I wish I didn't love you so much," she whispered, crawling into his lap.
3.
Jubilee and Bobby made their way through the darkness toward the service entrance to Sam's. They ran inside the entryway to the alley and flattened themselves against a wall as a police car sped by.
"I think we lost them," Jubilee whispered.
Bobby nodded. "Yeah, but I'm afraid they caught some of the others."
Jubilee unlocked the door quietly. "Come inside. Come on." They moved stealthily into the darkened bar and Jubilee said, "I'll get you some water."
Upstairs, Logan paused in the middle of kissing Rogue, senses alert.
She moaned in frustration when he stopped, and tried to pull his head back down to her lips. When he shook his head, she murmured, "What is it?"
He put a finger to his lips, got up and crept down the stairs silently.
Opening the door to his office, he said, "Jubes, what happened?" He could smell the blood -- Drake's blood.
The conspirators looked at him, startled. "The police broke up our meeting, Logan. We escaped at the last moment," she said excitedly.
"Come over here for a minute," Logan said. She walked over to the door with a questioning look on her face. "I want you to turn the light out in the rear entrance. It might attract the police."
"But Ororo always puts that light out."
"She forgot tonight."
Jubilee sighed. "Okay."
She followed Logan up the stairs to the apartment and stopped dead when she saw Rogue in the doorway.
"Take Rogue back to her hotel," he whispered.
"Okay."
The two women crept out the front door of the apartment while Logan walked back downstairs to face Bobby, who was wrapping his hand in a small towel.
"What happened?" Logan asked.
"It's nothing. Just a little cut. We had to get through a window."
"Had a close one, eh?"
"Yeah."
Logan moved behind the bar and poured out a drink. "This might come in handy, kid," he said, pushing the glass toward the blond man.
"Thanks." He downed the shot of whiskey gratefully.
"Don't you ever wonder if it's worth all this? I mean, what you're fighting for?" Logan asked.
Bobby looked surprised. "We might as well wonder why we breathe, Logan. If we stop breathing, we die. If we stop fighting our enemies, the world dies."
"What of it? Then we'll all be out of our misery." He pulled out a cigar and trimmed it.
"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself of something even you don't believe, Logan. Each of us has a destiny in the world, for good or for evil."
"God, you sound like Chuck or Erik," Logan responded. "But I get your point." He lit his cigar.
"I wonder if you do," Bobby said. "I wonder if you know you're trying to escape from yourself and that you'll never succeed."
"You seem to know an awful lot about my destiny, boy."
"I know a lot more about you than you'd expect. I know you're in love with a woman. It's strange that we're both in love with the same woman. Since no one is to blame, I demand no explanations. I know what you mean to her.
"I ask only one thing. You won't give me the letters of transit? Fine. But I want my wife to be safe. I'm asking you, as a favor, to use the letters to take her away from Tijuana."
"You love her that much?"
"I'm not made of ice, despite what you think, Logan." He looked away for a moment, then, "Yes, I love her that much."
Suddenly, the silence of the night was interrupted by a loud crash, as several Mexican police officers rammed in the front door of the bar.
The leader of the group walked up to Logan and Bobby and said, "Mr. Drake?"
"Yes?" Bobby answered.
"You will come with us. We have a warrant for your arrest."
"On what charge?" Bobby asked.
"Governor LeBeau will discuss that with you later, Señor."
"Well, well," Logan murmured. "Destiny takes a hand."
Bobby looked at him and then, in dignified silence, he walked over to the door, followed by the Mexican policemen. Logan watched them, expressionless.
4.
"You haven't got any actual proof and you know it!" Logan exclaimed, pacing up and down in front of Remy's desk the next morning. "This isn't the States. We're not under martial law here. All you can do is fine him a few thousand pesos and give him thirty days. You might as well let him go."
"Wolvie," Remy began. Logan growled at the nickname, and the Cajun hastily said, "Logan, I'd advise you not to be too interested in what happens to Drake. If, by any chance, you were to help him escape--"
"What makes you think I'd stick my neck out for Drake?" he interrupted, stopping his pacing to pin the other man with a glare.
"Because one, you've bet me five thousand dollars that he'd escape. Two, you have the letters of transit -- don't even try to deny it. And, well, you might do it simply because you don't like Hodge's looks. Mon Dieu, Remy don't like him either."
"Those are all great reasons," Logan admitted.
"Don't count too much on my friendship, Logan. In this matter, I'm powerless. Besides, I might lose five thousand dollars." Remy shrugged.
"You're not real subtle, Gumbo, but you're effective. I get the point." He resumed pacing. "Yeah, I got the letters, but I'm planning on using them myself. I'm leaving Tijuana on tonight's plane. The last plane."
"Huh?"
"And I'm taking a friend with me. One you'll appreciate."
"Who?"
"Rogue." He stopped again, and dropped into a chair. "That oughta put your mind at ease about me helping Drake escape. He's the last man I wanna see when I get to Canada."
"You didn't come here to tell me this," Remy said skeptically, trying to figure out what Logan was really planning. "You have the letters of transit. You can fill in your name and hers and leave at any time you like. Why are you so interested in what happens to Bobby?"
"I'm not. But I am interested in what happens to Rogue and me. We have a legal right to go, that's true. But people have been held in Tijuana in spite of their legal rights."
Remy lit up a cigarette to give himself time to think. "What makes you think we want to hold you?"
"Rogue is Bobby's wife. She probably knows things Hodge would love to know." Logan stood and leaned on the desk. "Remy, I'll make you a deal. Instead of this trumped up charge you have against him, you can get something really big -- something that would chuck him in a camp for years.
"That'd be quite a feather in your cap, wouldn't it?"
"It would. Mexico -- America would be very grateful."
"Then release him. You be at my place half an hour before the plane leaves." More pacing from Logan. "I'll arrange to have Drake come there to pick up the letters of transit, and that'll give you the criminal grounds to make an arrest. You get him, Rogue and I get away. To the Americans, she and I are chump change. Drake's a major score."
Remy was still trying to figure out Logan's angle. "I still don't understand. Rogue is gorgeous, sure, but still, she's just a woman. You could take Jean with you. You were in love with her all those years ago."
Logan snorted. "Marie's not just any woman." His eyes locked onto Remy's strange red-on-black ones.
"I see." Remy looked away first. "How do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?"
"I'll make the arrangements right now with Drake in the visitors' pen."
Remy laughed delightedly. "Remy gonna miss you, Logan. Apparently, you're the only homme in Tijuana with fewer scruples than the Gambit."
Logan stuck his cigar in his mouth. "Thanks." He got up to leave. When he was at the door, he said, "By the way, call off your watchdogs when you let him go. I don't want them around this afternoon. I'm takin' no chances, Remy. Not even with you."
5.
The next morning found Logan at La Café. He and Magneto sat in a secluded back room.
"Shall we draw up papers, or is our handshake good enough?" Erik asked.
"It ain't good enough, but since I'm in a hurry, it'll have to do," Logan replied, taking a sip of coffee.
"Ah, to get out of Tijuana and go to Canada. You're a lucky man."
Logan smirked. "Just so you know, I'm only selling my half of the bar. Ororo owns the other fifty percent."
"Hmm. I happen to know that she owns only twenty-five percent, but I will give her fifty."
"And the rest of the staff -- including Jubilee -- stays on," Logan reminded him, lighting a cigar.
"But of course. Sam's wouldn't be Sam's without them," Erik replied.
Logan stood. "Well, see ya round, Mags."
Magneto stood and they shook hands to seal the deal. Logan walked to the door before he remembered something. He stopped and turned. "Don't forget -- you owe Sam's thirty-two cases of Molson Golden."
Erik smiled. "I shall remember to pay it... to myself."
6.
That night...
Remy's car pulled up in front of Sam's. On the door was a large sign reading, "Closed By Order of the Governor" in both English and Spanish. He got out of the car and frowned at the sign. He had a feeling he was missing something.
Remy walked in to see Logan sitting at a table, reading some papers. He shoved the papers into his pocket when the Cajun approached the table.
"You're late," he snapped.
"I was informed when Drake was about to leave his hotel, so I knew I'd be on time," Remy replied, unruffled by the other man's bad mood.
"I thought I asked you to tie up your watchdogs."
"Oh," Remy said airily, "he won't be followed here." He looked around the empty bar. "You know, this place won't be the same without you, Logan."
Logan snorted. "Yeah, but I've already spoken with Magneto. You'll still get twenty percent of the take from the cage."
Remy smiled. "Is everything ready?" he asked.
Logan patted his pocket. "I have everything right here."
"Tell me, when we searched the place, where were they?"
Logan grinned genuinely. "Under the refrigerator."
"Serves me right for not being domestic," Remy muttered.
Logan's ear perked at the sound of a car pulling up. "They're here. You'd better wait in my office."
Remy slipped into the back room quietly.
Bobby stopped to pay the cabdriver while Rogue rushed into the bar. Logan grabbed her and pulled her close. He could smell the tension emanating from her shaking body.
"Logan, Bobby thinks I’m goin' with him," she murmured. "Didn't you tell him?"
"No, not yet."
"But it's all right, isn't it? You were able to arrange everything?"
"Everything's fine, kid," he reassured her. "We'll tell him at the airport. The less time to think, the easier it is for all of us. Trust me."
She looked at him, unsure. "I hate when people say that to me," she said. "But I will. I do."
Bobby walked in, then. "Logan, I don't know how to thank you for this."
"Save it, Frosty. We still got a lot to do."
Remy slid the door open and watched closely.
"I brought the money, Logan," Bobby said.
"Keep it. You'll need it in Canada," Logan said shortly.
"But we made a deal--"
Logan cut him off. "Forget about that. You won't have any trouble when you get to Vancouver, will you?"
Bobby shook his head. "It's all arranged."
"Good. I've got the letters of transit right here." He pulled the letters out of his pocket. "All you have to do is sign 'em." He handed them to Bobby, who took them gratefully.
"Robert Drake!" Remy called from the doorway of Logan's office. "You are under arrest on the charge of accessory to the murder of the couriers from whom these letters were stolen."
Rogue and Bobby were both caught completely off-guard. They both turned toward Logan, bewildered. Rogue looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Remy grabbed the letters.
"Oh, are you surprised by mon ami, Logan?" Remy said. He smiled and turned toward Logan, seemingly delighted with the situation. "It's really quite simple, non? Amor has triumphed over virtue. Thank --"
Suddenly, his smile faded as he found himself facing three nine-inch adamantium claws.
"Not so fast, Romeo. Nobody's going to be arrested, not for a while yet."
"Are you insane?" Remy demanded.
"Yeah." He gestured with the claws. "Sit down at that table."
Remy walked toward him instead of the table Logan had pointed at, and Logan waggled the claws under his nose. "Remy, I don't wanna gut ya, but I will if you take one more step."
Remy looked at him closely. "Under the circumstances, Remy gonna sit down." He walked to the table Logan indicated and sat.
"Keep your hands on the table," Logan snapped.
"I suppose you know what you're doing, but I wonder if you realize what this means?" Remy asked.
"Yeah. We got plenty of time to discuss that later, bub."
"Call off your watchdogs, you said," Remy muttered. "I knew you were up to something."
"Just the same, you call the airport and let me hear you tell 'em. Remember, these are pointed right at your heart," Logan replied, touching the tips of his claws to Remy's chest.
"That is my least vulnerable spot." He pulled his cell phone out and dialed. Logan took the letters back from him. "Hello, is this the airport? This is Governor LeBeau. There will be two letters of transit for the flight to Vancouver tonight. There's to be no trouble about them. Good."
Cameron Hodge stared at his phone. "Hello? Hello?" He hung up and pressed another button on the phone. "This is Cameron Hodge. Have a squad of policemen meet me at the airport at once. Do you hear me? At once!"
He hung up and rushed to his car.
7.
Tijuana Airstrip
Voices crackled over the radio sitting on the dash of Logan's car. "Vancouver flight taking off in ten minutes. East runway. Visibility: one and one half miles. Light ground fog. Depth of fog: approximately five hundred. Ceiling: unlimited. Over."
They got out of the car and one of the Mexican officers rushed to greet LeBeau. Logan stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder, silent testimony to how quickly the claws could come out if he didn't play along.
Bobby and Rogue stepped out onto the tarmac.
Logan said, "Remy, have your man go with Drake and take care of his luggage."
"Anything you say, Logan," Remy replied, inclining his head. He turned to the policeman. "Find Mr. Drake's luggage and put it on the plane."
"Yes, sir. This way, please." The policeman led Bobby toward the plane.
As they walked toward the hangar, Logan pulled the letters out of his pocket. "If you don't mind," he said ironically, "you fill in the names yourself. That'll make it even more official." He handed the papers to Remy.
"You think of everything, don't you?"
Logan looked over his shoulder at Marie. "The names are Mr. and Mrs. Robert Drake," he said softly.
Remy stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. Both he and Rogue stared at Logan in astonishment.
"But, why my name, Logan?" Rogue asked.
"Because you're gettin' on that plane," Logan replied grimly.
Rogue was confused. "I don't understand. What about you?"
Logan's grin was feral and unfriendly. "I'm staying here with him," he gestured to Remy, "'til the plane gets outta here safely."
Rogue blinked, as understanding dawned. "No, Logan. No. I want to stay here with you. What happened? Last night we said --"
He interrupted. "We said a lot of things last night, kid. You said you wanted me to think for the both of us. Well, I've done a lot of thinkin' since then, and it all adds up to one thing. You're gettin' on that plane with Bobby, where you belong."
"Logan, no! I belong with you -- I --" Rogue protested, grabbing his arm.
Again, he didn't let her finish. "You listen to me, Marie. Do you have any idea what life would be like if you stayed here? Odds are, we'd wind up in a concentration camp. Ain't that right, Gumbo?"
Remy didn't look up from where he was countersigning the papers. "I'm afraid Secretary Hodge would insist."
"You're only sayin' this to make me go," Rogue cried.
He took her shoulders and stared down into her eyes. "I'm sayin' it because it's true, kid. Inside of us, we both know you belong with Bobby. You're part of his work, the thing that keeps him goin'. If that plane leaves and you're not with him, you'll regret it."
"No."
"Yes. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life," he replied, cupping her cheek with a gloved hand.
"But what about us?" she whispered.
"We'll always have San Francisco. We didn't. We'd lost it, until you came to Tijuana. We got it back last night."
"I said I'd never leave you." Her lower lip trembled and her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
It took all the strength he had not to fling her over his shoulder and run for the plane. "And you never will," he said roughly, moving his hand down to trace the chain of his dogtags, which had reappeared around her neck this evening. She'd taken them off when she married Bobby, kept them with her as a remembrance. She'd put them on earlier, under her shirt, to mark the beginning of her new life. She was drawn back to the present by Logan's words.
"But I got a job to do, too. Where I'm goin', you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of." She shook her head and he engulfed her in his arms. "Marie, I'm no good at bein' noble, but it don't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday, you'll understand that. Now, now--"
She raised her face to him, the tears spilling from her chocolate velvet eyes. "Logan, I--"
"Here's lookin' at you, kid," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers lightly, letting his feelings for her flow through the connection before he pulled away.
Bobby came walking back, then. Logan took the letters from Remy and said, "You good to go?"
Bobby jerked his chin toward the papers. "Is everything ready?"
Logan nodded. "Yeah. Except for one thing. There's somethin' you should know before you go."
Bobby tensed, knowing what was coming. "Logan, please. Don't explain anything."
"I'm gonna explain anyway," Logan continued, inexorably. "Because it might make a difference later on. You knew about Rogue and me. But you didn't know that she was at my place last night. She came there for the letters of transit. Ain't that right, Marie?"
Rogue faced her husband. "Yes."
"She tried everything to get 'em, and nothin' worked. She did her best to convince me that she was still in love with me, but that was all over a long time ago. For your sake, she pretended it wasn't, and I let her," Logan said forcefully.
"I understand," Bobby said.
Logan handed him the letters. "Here they are."
"Thanks. I appreciate this more than you know." He held his hand out to the Canadian, who took it and shook it firmly. "And welcome back to the fight. This time, I know we'll win."
A shout came from the plane -- they were waiting only for the last two passengers to board. They all turned to stare at it for a moment. Rogue looked at Logan, who gazed at her impassively, no emotion in his hazel eyes. His jaw was clenched tight, though, as were his fists. She was sure if she could see his hands, his knuckles would be white with strain.
Bobby broke the silence. "Rogue, are you ready?"
"Yeah." She turned to Logan. "Goodbye, Logan. Take care of yourself."
"Always," he said gruffly, stroking her cheek one last time. "You better hurry, kid, or you'll miss the plane."
Then Bobby took her arm and led her to the plane. Logan and Remy watched as they climbed the stairs.
"Well, Remy was right. You are a romantic."
"Shut the fuck up. I don’t know what you're talkin' about," Logan growled. He pulled out a cigar and used a single claw to clip it before lighting it.
"What you just did for Drake, and that fairy tale you invented to send Rogue off with him. Remy knows women, mon ami. She went, but she knew you were lying."
"Anyway," Logan went on, ignoring what Remy had just said, "thanks for helping me out."
"I suppose you know this ain't gonna be pleasant for either of us, especially for you. I'll have to arrest you, of course."
"As soon as the plane takes off, Remy."
The plane taxied along the runway as a car came speeding onto the tarmac. Cameron Hodge jumped out of the car just as it came to a stop.
"What is the meaning of that phone call?" Hodge demanded.
Remy lit a cigarette and pointed. "Robert Drake is on that plane," he answered.
"Why are you standing here? Stop that plane!"
Remy shrugged. "Ask Logan."
Hodge looked briefly at Logan, then reached inside his jacket pocket for his cell phone.
"I wouldn't if I were you," Logan growled.
"I'd advise you not to interfere," Hodge said coldly.
"I was willin' to kill LeBeau and I'm willin' to kill you," Logan said evenly.
Hodge watched the plane in agony. His eyes darted between Logan and the phone in his hand. He pressed a button and said, "Standish! Get me the radio tower!"
"Put it down," Logan snarled.
Hodge reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a gun. He shot quickly at Logan, but missed. They could hear sirens wailing as more police approached.
Snikt
The gun was cut to pieces; Logan embedded the claws in Hodge's stomach and jerked upward. Hodge crumpled to the ground as Logan withdrew the blades.
In the distance, the plane turned onto the runway.
A police car sped up, lights flashing. Four officers spilled out of the car and stood at attention in front of LeBeau.
"Secretary Hodge has been attacked," Remy informed them. He glanced over at Logan, who returned his gaze with an enigmatic expression. "Round up the usual suspects."
"Si, Señor," the lead policeman said, saluting smartly. They picked up Hodge's body, loaded it in the trunk of the car, and sped away.
"Well, Logan, not only are you a romantic, but you've become a patriot. Xavier would be proud."
"Maybe," Logan said, shrugging. "It seemed like a good time to start."
Remy thought about everything that had happened the past few days. "I think perhaps you are right."
They stood in silence and watched the plane take off through the fog, holding their gaze until it disappeared behind the clouds.
"It might be a good idea for you to disappear for a while, Logan. There's a village down near Mazatlán that might work. I could be induced to arrange a passage."
"My letter of transit? I could use a trip," Logan replied. "But it doesn't make any difference about our bet. You still owe me five thousand dollars."
"And that five thousand dollars should just about cover our expenses, mon frere."
"Our expenses?" Logan raised an eyebrow.
"Oui."
"Remy, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Logan rumbled.
And the two men walked off into the night.
Fin
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