milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

hank mccoy,
logan

(no subject)

When Logan saunters in in uniform he's not really expecting the bar. But, since it's here he pushes back the mask and heads for the counter, parking himself on a stool.

Bar provides a beer and he hunches over to nurse it.

To go by the grime on the costume he's post tangling with someone or something, but since the clothing is still intact and he's not covered in say blood or blackened with char things weren't all that terrible.

Which is to say he's probably approachable.

Well, as approachable as Logan gets, anyways.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"When it is things like Fin Fang Foom."

X does not sigh. Or roll her eyes.

"Or when Captain America is being stupid and trying to arrest people before they do terrible things."

That was a very frustrating day.

"I do not think he knows what 'self-fulfilling prophecies' are. And I do not know why he did not talk to Ruth. About visions. And how they work."

It is really too bad Destiny remains dead. She would have schooled them all in that kind of stuff.

He cants his head a little further, eyes narrowing on her slightly.

"Do I even wanna know?" About any of it.

"No."

X's voice is flat.

"Everyone is stupid. And neither of us are allowed to kill them."

A pause.

"I would like a root beer float. Please."

Logan nudges a stool out for her with his foot and raps on the counter, "Darlin'?"

When the float appears he salutes X with his beer and takes a long pull.

"So things are crap at home, how's life treatin' you here?"

X settles on the indicated stool, head tilting to study Logan.

"I have broken up many fights. That is good."

She's just saying.

"You are okay?"

Several sips of her float will be taken while she waits for Logan's answer.

He gives her a smirk. "That's right, woman with a badge. Any good tussles?"

To her question he flexes his hand, gloves creaking, knuckles popping, then gives a one-shouldered shrug.

"Still upright an' kickin'." Some days that's an accomplishment.

"A man who cannot see beat up Teja. It was not Daredevil."

She does not smile, just takes another sip of her drink.

"I had to separate them. The man's friend came to get me. I like them."

Another, longer pause.

"Kicking is good."

"Yeah? Huh. Matty's good, this guy better?" he asks.

He nods when she says she likes them, then studies her after that silent note.

There's a lot to be read in the cadence of her words, with sometimes more said in the pauses between words than in the words themselves.

His eyes hold on her, but not with the sharp focus of a glare.

"Everything alright?"

She exhales, rigid posture fading, for a second, into something almost slumping.

This is Logan. It is okay to tell him. To show him.

"I am tired," she says, after a little while.

"Of people being stupid. And caring about being right. More than helping people. More than being kind. Or fair."

He follows suit, leaning elbows on the counter while his hands wrap around his glass, nursing the beer while listening to her.

He takes a slow breath. Let's it out. Gives a single nod.

"Nature of some folks. You'll see it a lot. Everywhere. An' some days it seems like it'd be easier t'just put 'em down instead of dealin' with 'em."

And cathartic, too, if he's being honest.

"Gets t'be a load on you."

He turns his head, looking at the back of the bar, and the bottles lined up on the shelves.

"You ever take any time out? Break away for a bit?"

She tucks her feet up on the stool, wrapping her arms around them.

It is an exercise in balance, but it's comforting, too.

And it lets her rest her cheek on her knees, gaze drifting behind Logan instead of right at him.

"I do not know how."

He's silent for a minute, eyes flicking down to his glass but he doesn't drink.

"I don't know exactly how much of me you got," he says after awhile. "But I'm sure you've seen it in me, the restless-- "

Not animal, he isn't that anymore. "... Wanderer. I stick around more'n I used to, but sometimes that itch still hits and I gotta go."

Anywhere. No where. Just, away.

"There's no knowin' how, it's just instinct." He looks over at her, with the same focus. "If you feel that, maybe it's time t'follow it. Maybe I can help. And if you don't, maybe you need somethin' else, and maybe I can help with that, too."

X is quiet for a little while, then she shifts and meets Logan's gaze, holding it.

"I do not want to be without people. Who know me."

It's --

Maybe frightening is the word.

"I think I would forget. How to be a person. It would be easier."

A pause.

"I do not like easy. But it would be. I know."

His eyes meet hers and he listens, understanding.

"It is easier, in a lot of ways," he admits, having forgotten himself before. "But it's a good thing that you know that, and that it ain't somethin' you want."

It took him a long damn time to learn how not to forget, and to realize that was the right choice over the easier path.

"I wouldn't let you forget," he promises her.

She leans -- maybe a little awkwardly -- to bump her shoulder against his and hold there.

Just for a few seconds.

"I know. I trust you."

This pause is longer. Some words are difficult to put together.

"I want to trust me."

Maybe someday.

He shifts to nudge her back.

"You'll get there." He has no doubts.

"For now, remember shoulderin' too much on your own is another way t'lose yourself."

Silence falls.

"I will annoy you," X says at last.

"With how much I will talk to you."

It's a promise.

Logan gives a sound that's both a snort and a chuckle.

"Trust me, y'wouldn't be the first to gab my ear off." Jubilee and Kitty both could go on for hours without ever taking a breath.

That's how it felt like to him, anyways.

"It always grows back," X agrees. "Your ear."

X is not smiling, but --

Maybe she would, if her face moved like that.

Edited 2017-05-03 15:51 (UTC)

"Smart ass," he grumps, but the smirk rucking up the side of his mouth ruins some of the growly effect.

"I have been taking notes."

She learned it from all those teenagers you introduced her to, once upon a time. In part.

"I figured. You sure as hell didn't get it from me."

That's a damned lie and they both know it.

He finishes his beer then nods at her float.

"Bar, gimme one of them."

X's victory is complete.

Not least because Bar provides Logan's float complete with a neon purple curly straw.

It matches X's.

Logan gives the impression of an eye roll without actually performing the action, then pulls the glass close and uses the purple straw to stir up the ice cream before taking a drink of the float.

"So, whatcha wanna do?" he asks, nodding in approval at the drink despite the cutesy straw. (There's every possibility that he might like the straw, but none that he'll admit to it.)

(X will never make him. It's the knowing that's important, not the telling.)

She considers this question carefully, sipping at her float all the while.

Then --

"There are motorcycles. Downstairs. Some of them hover."

Beat.

"We could race them. The weather is not terrible. Today."