It all started with the leather slippers. I knew they would be no good. I knew it from the moment I set eyes on them, yet I said nothing. How stupid of me.
"Nice Cyke." Logan's smug expression and cocked eyebrow made it perfectly clear that the level of sarcasm in that comment was fully intended.
I watched as Scott stopped mid-stride. Hovered. Then he turned and looked back at Logan. "What, exactly, are you implying?"
"Who said anythin' about implyin'? I'll say it outright. Your slippers make you look like a girl!"
Oh this was not good. I could see Scott's tension bristling under the surface. See his jaw work as he fought to contain it. He was doing a pretty good job as well...
...Until Jean appeared.
Logan gave her a leer and a wink. "Hey Red, you not tired of your toy-boy yet?"
Yeah. That did it.
Scott began advancing. Pacing slowly. The gaze beneath his ruby glasses fixed rigidly on Logan.
Until it swung round to me.
"You flirt with my girl Logan, I flirt with yours."
Huh?
Before I could blink, a hand took a fistful of my sweater, hauled me up against a hard body, and a fast kiss was pressed against my mouth. All I could think of was Christ, the fearless leader just grabbed my ass.
Logan? Was furious.
"Did you just kiss my girl?"
Scott smirked. "What, you mean you missed it? Thought you had enhanced senses-"
"Did you just KISS *MY* girl?"
"Uh...Logan..." I tried to interrupt. But seriously – still there on the ass grabbing. Couldn't decide if it was weird, or sexy.
"Need me to do it again?"
"Outside. Now."
Jean slunk closer to me. "What's going on?" she whispered.
Now I know what you're thinking. Don't tell the dangerous class 5 mutant that her husband just groped your ass. "Your husband just groped my ass."
Thought? Go directly to Mouth. Do not pass Brain. Do not collect $200.
"He groped your ass?"
"While he was kissing me." Yeah that did *not* make it better. "Now they're gonna fight."
"While he was... Fight you say?"
I could see it clocking over in her head. Did she freak, or did she let it go for the greater good. Her well manicured eyebrow raised a couple of notches, and for a moment I was on tenterhooks. Well, it was too nice a day to be turned into a dust patch on the carpet. And I had plans with Jubes tonight, she'd kill me if I cancelled...uh-oh, here we go...
"Want to...go and watch?"
Oh thank god.
Like a pair of giggling school girls we followed the echoing sound of insults being thrown around the corridor. The path of destruction led outside, into the garden, where they were promptly told by a rather stern looking ‘Ro to take it elsewhere before she made it rain on them for a month. Indoors.
The lake it was then.
Now Scott, he's a good guy, likes to play by the rules, Logan's the one that likes to do things dirty. That's why we were so surprised when Scott threw the first punch. Ok, it was more like a slap. Jean still professes to this day that what actually happened was he tripped over and crashed into Logan on the way down. Either way – it was enough.
"That the best ya can do One-eye?" Thump.
"Canine." Kick.
"Pansy." Headbutt...and ouch, that one looked like it hurt.
"Animal."
*Snarl*
"Teach you to flirt with my girl," yelled Scott.
"You ever touch Rogue again bub, I'll...I'll..."
"You'll *what* Logan? Make me into a pin cushion?"
"Rrrraaaarrghhh!" Logan charged, sending them both flying. Thick clouds of dust scuffed up everywhere, the cursing sounds (and the odd limb) arising from it resembling some sort of comic book scene.
When it cleared I saw a sight I never wanted to forget. One of those Kodak moments, y'know? Logan had Scott slung over one shoulder, yelling and cussing as he hauled him towards the lake. Scott had one of his fallen leather slippers in hand, and was using it in a futile attempt to beat Logan round the ass.
Could you blame me? I started to giggle.
"Get OFF me you hairy lug!"
"Then stop hittin' me you tight assed fuckin' bastard!"
Then in a horrific tear of fabric, Scott was no longer clutched in Logan's grip. Scott's shirt was still there, but Scott himself was suddenly the cause of the giant splash.
Well. Even Jean admits she'd never heard Scott swear like it.
"Ha! Look at you now Scooter! Heh heh heh! Not so manly NOW are ya!" Unfortunately Logan made that fatal error. One which Jean and I, as observers, saw coming a mile off. So we didn't warn him. So shoot us. Heh.
He stood on the edge.
One of Scott's hands reached out and grabbed the wooden support of the jetty. The other grabbed hold of Logan's ankle. And pulled. Hard.
Well it safe to say that Logan made the bigger splash. I suppose it's all that adamantium. He gave a glare, a muffled curse, and then he sunk like a dead weight.
Scott looked round, nervously treading water. "Logan? Where'd you go?"
At first the lake was still. Then a ripple of water here, a faint splash there... I tried to resist the urge to start humming the Jaws theme tune.
"Daa dun. Daa dun. Da-da da-da..."
Don't look at me, that was Jean.
With a rather unmanly gurgle, Scott was suddenly pulled under. I would have been more worried, had there not been the occasional fist in the splashing that ensued. Besides, they made their way up to dry land eventually.
Then there was scuffling. Much scuffling. Logan's wifebeater had gone completely see-through (were talking chest hair and nipples here). Scott's shirt was still in a crumpled heap on the jetty (...shame). And then there was the wrestling. And the insults. And the wrestling. Did I mention the wrestling?
Manly wrestling. Dusty, sweaty. Wet. With straining muscles and everything.
"School boy," Logan growled as Scott charged at him, sending him sprawling.
"Thug...oof!" Scott found Logan's fist returning the gesture.
"That didn't hurt ya...pansy."
"You said...*gasp*...that one already."
"Ya...OUCH!...*anal* pansy."
"Yeah?"
"YEAH!"
I flinched at the sound of broken glass as they crashed into the Lakehouse. Oh the Professor wasn't going to be pleased about that. The Lakehouse was out of bounds...even to staff.
I wondered briefly if perhaps it was time Jean and I started acting like responsible adults, and put a stop to the whole thing...
"Did you just BLAST a hole in my wifebeater? You wanna fight me shirtless One-eye? You gottit!"
Did I say responsible...?
I ran to peer through the broken door.
Well, it's safe to say that even Jean was surprised. Who knew the Professor had a thing for movie memorabilia. Why, there was an entire collection of Gladiator swords! And mounted next to an array of Orc masks was The One Ring to Rule Them All... and was that the Sorting Hat? Hung up on the wall next to the Star Fleet uniform and Indiana Jones's whip? No wonder he didn't want anyone snooping around in here...
...And there were Logan and Scott. Still at it. Mmmmm...
A snarl. "You fight like a girl Scooter."
"Oh really?" With a metallic ring, Scott whisked one of the swords out of its wall stand. "Then fight THIS!"
Logan just raised an eyebrow and cricked his neck. Then he growled and popped his claws. "Bring it on."
Beside me Jean suddenly scrambled to her feet. I looked up, startled. "Where are you going?"
"To get some popcorn! You want some?"
Well, I *was* hungry...
"Look at ya Scooter. Who do'ya think you are, with ya big sword." Logan mocked.
"My *name*," Scott ground out, "is Scott Summers. Commander of the X-men. Loyal servant to the Professor. Father to a...imaginary son, husband to a slightly unstable wife. And I will have my vengeance..."
"Oh ha fuckin' ha."
With the clank of steel on adamantium, the sword play began.
You know I was quite surprised, Logan was all violent thrusting (yeah, don't read into that), but Scott had all this fancy footwork going on. He parried, he feinted, he dodged, it was like some sort of Pirates of the Caribbean vs. Edward Scissorhands montage. Only that would be, like, Johnny Depp on Johnny Depp, which would be...weird. Though not necessarily a bad...thing...and...where was I? Oh yeah. It was better than any movie I had seen in months.
Unfortunately for Logan, Scott had the advantage of the longest blade. Yeah don't read anything into that either. All I'm saying was it was enough to send Logan sprawling. Into the life size replica dalek.
But Logan wasn't done. He scrambled back to his feet, claws sliding away, eyes remaining firmly fixed on Scott as his hand snaked up to the whip on the wall. He uncoiled it and gave it an experimental crack.
Scott held his sword at the ready. "Dr Jones, I presume?"
Ooh this was too much fun!
"What did I miss?" said Jean, hurrying back, bowl of popcorn in one hand, Scott's remaining slipper in the other.
"You mean aside from the manly swashbuckling in defence of our honour?"
Jean just sighed and looked at the leather slipper fondly. "I *knew* buying these was a good idea..."
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Author's Chapter Notes:
In response to Valeria's challenge. This is complete muscle bound gratuitous foof. It has no purpose save to amuse me, (and possibly Sky who is partly to blame for all this *g*) and anyone else who finds the thought of Scott and Logan fighting appealing. Especially if it involves wet shirts (coughAmandacough *g*). It features a growly Logan, a Scott who kept slipping into an English accent in my head, a Professor with a secret fetish, and a Jean, who for reasons unbeknown to me, has come across as rather mentally unstable. Probably because she's very badly written *g*. Rogue's POV...the poor girl...or not.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Just like to twist them to my own fantasies and make them rip each others clothes off. And life is good *g*.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Just like to twist them to my own fantasies and make them rip each others clothes off. And life is good *g*.