WHO: Emma Frost and Logan WHAT: Getting drunk post workout WHEN: Waaaay backdated to shortly after Ellie first appeared WHERE: Some dive bar in town WARNINGS: Low, they’re just being druuuuuuuuuunk
- 0 Drinks Deep -
Emma’s typical Thursday evening involved grading papers and then driving over to Logan’s for a spar. When they were both up for it, they followed up their bouts of physical violence with outings to bars in the area. (And with little else aside from work on their respective plates, they often were up for it.) Logan typically picked the venue because Emma couldn’t be bothered and, secretly, she knew the places she’d pick wouldn’t be any fun for him. Logan was good at getting by in just about any setting but even he was likely to struggle at a fancy dinner club.
It seemed, however, Logan wasn’t quite so capable of kind gestures; the dives he picked were always out of the way and served what Emma described as the tragically unkempt. Sometimes there were bikers, sometimes just random criminals, often the dregs of society, but no matter the sort of patronage Emma almost always stood out like a sore thumb among jukeboxes and cowboy hats. The only reason she tolerated it was because the attention had the potential to be fun and she enjoyed Logan’s company. She never passed up an opportunity to turn her nose up and complain, anyway, and these evenings gave her plenty of opportunity for that.
“Ever the gentleman,” Emma said as she walked in, rolling her eyes at Logan, who held the door open for her. It was more than a little depressing to know that while she’d dressed down in a simple white dress, she’d still not dressed down enough. Eyes followed the pair of them as they headed toward the bar and the thoughts that buzzed around might have made a less worldly woman blush. As she took a seat, she sighed theatrically and shot Logan a dirty look. “My vengeance is going to be swift and terrible one of these days,” she said, lips curling into the barest hint of a smirk, “And likely to involve ascots.”
Of course Emma would dress him in a fucking ascot.
He rolled his eyes at her words, but that faint smirk brought forth his own along with a chuckle. “Looking forward to it,” he said to her as he signalled over the bartender to take their drink order. Logan didn’t always (hardly ever) pick out places that he’d consider “Emma” caliber despite all of her complaints and slight jabs. He figured if she didn’t like it she had every opportunity to go someplace else. But there she was sitting with him in yet another seedy bar. The corner of his lips curled into a small smile at the thought as the bartender brought their drinks over.
These nights with Emma, though, were a ritual now considering they had done it every week since they started their sessions. It wasn’t a secret, not really, but no one else knew of the time they spent together. Not that anyone ever asked Logan what he did on these nights, but even if someone had he wouldn’t tell them. Both he and Emma valued their privacy, and these sessions were meant to vent their frustrations. More Emma’s than his own, but Logan appreciated Emma’s need to punch the shit out of things when no other method seemed to work. And it rarely did with the X-Men.
“I could surprise you one day, though,” he said after he downed a healthy portion of his beer. “Could take you someplace real swanky.”
“I don’t think our definitions of ‘real swanky’ match up,” Emma laughed. She knew Logan was capable of surprises, though, and so she was teasing more than she was trying to be snotty. Their friendship, such as it was, had always been unusual. When not fighting or at each other’s throats, they tended to have nice, quiet moments together. Logan was dependable and someone who could call Emma out when she was falling astray. So these nights weren’t just for having fun or venting. They also served the purpose of mostly keeping her r on the straight and narrow.
Emma drank her martini, sans olives, from a pint glass, having had to use her powers to get the bartender to mix the drink at all. Bluesy guitar music played on the jukebox in the corner of the bar. “But by all means, take me somewhere nice. It’d be fun to see you be the fish out of water for once.” For all of her complaining, though, Emma didn’t especially seem uncomfortable. She ignored the stray glances and curious thoughts and focused on her friend and the alcohol. She’d been in far nicer places with less pleasant company and she’d much rather be in a bar in the middle of nowhere than there.
Logan was often full of surprises, and a swanky place — while not his usual style — wasn’t really above him. He was capable of “cleaning” up. Putting on a damn monkey suit for the purposes of impressing somebody, or for infiltrating some organization. He preferred his stealthier methods, of course. Putting up appearances was never one of Logan’s favorite past times. He was rather straightforward, a gift and a curse depending on who you asked.
“There’s a place near the center of town,” he said as he drank half of his pint. “Right up your alley. We’ll go there next time.” He finished the rest of his beer with another gulp, and motioned to the bartender for more. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and leaned back against the soft cushion of the booth.
“How’re things going with Ellie,” he posed to her. The woman didn’t seem like the type to take in a ward, but then again neither was Logan and he somehow ended up with them. “She settlin’ in okay?”
“Alright. Next time,” Emma smirked, sounding skeptical mostly because it was more fun to tease than to take him on his typically reliable word. She’d seen Logan dressed, but she had to think to try and recall a time she’d seen him shaved. A suit was a step forward, and fun to watch, but Emma would only really be impressed if he was willing to do a full transformation.
“She’s… surprisingly sweet,” Emma admitted after a drink from her glass. “Confused by this world, certainly. And the concept of another Ellie that’s dead is upsetting her, I think. But she seems resilient, smart, and surprisingly well behaved.” Ellie had taken Emma by surprise. She’d never seen herself as a caregiver to anyone, less for lack of wanting than for the fact that she’d have figured at least half of the X-Men would have stepped up before her. But things had worked out well in this area, at least. And Ellie gave Emma a sense of calm purpose that she’d lacked in Tumbleweed previously. If nothing else, Emma had to stay put and grounded for the girl’s sake. “I have to teach her to drive,” Emma said after a moment, scowling slightly. “And had to move for her, but otherwise I cannot really complain.”
“At least you got it easy,” Logan said just as the server delivered another beer to their table. He drank it in one fell swoop and ordered another before the server even had a chance to leave. The look on the server’s face was priceless, but Logan was not joking when he said he wanted another. The bartender knew the old man enough to know he could hold his liquor and had no problem filling up another pint.
It was the most efficient way to get Logan drunk — a bombardment of alcohol into his system in a short amount of time assured that his metabolism needed a little bit of time to catch up.
“This world ain’t easy, but at least we ain’t being hunted. Not yet, anyway.” Logan still wasn’t a hundred percent sure about the military, but he was willing to take it for what it was at the moment. “I think if she’s got any chance at a normal life then this is the place to do it.”
He shrugged, and when the server brought his other beer he nodded his appreciation before he took the glass and held it toward Emma. “A toast?”
“A toast. To normal,” Emma said with a little nod, clinking her recently refilled glass against his. “For as long as we can keep it.” She smiled.
- One Hour Later -
Having lost track of how many drinks Logan had downed and slowly getting to that point with her own drinks, Emma could feel the liquor’s effects taking hold of her body even if she didn’t think it showed on her in any significant way. Someone who knew her well could probably place the signs of inebriation on her from the way her shoulders sagged and her back was somewhat less than straight. Beyond that, though, her overly bright eyes were clear and her speech unslurred. It took a lot these days to get Emma sloppy and she typically embraced this as a point of pride.
“The thing is,” Emma said, voice an overly loud conspiratorial whisper, “it just worked. I don’t really know how.” She’d somehow managed to hook arms with Logan within the last few minutes and she leaned in further, their foreheads almost touching. “She is a weather goddess and a queen and objectively beautiful and brilliant. And you are… you.” She looked him over, amusement dancing in her eyes. Emma was very fond of Logan and that meant she was quick to point out his flaws. This was more or less how she showed affection with anyone she cared about. “There’s the short and the hair…” her hand went to it, fluffing it out. She narrowly avoided his own hand attempting to brush hers away. “And, oh darling, you’ve got a lovely personality underneath all the gruff and the face has potential but it just shouldn’t have worked between the pair of you. Somehow…” she paused to drink and then continued, “somehow you were damn near adorable.”
She shifted in her seat, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her eyes. “Honestly, Logan, if she shows up here and you don’t make a move, I will.” She laughed, just a bit too amused by her own joke. Before she knew what was happening, she slid in her chair and had to grab at the bar to keep stable. At the same time, Logan’s arm shot out and looped around her to keep her steady.
Emma took a stabilizing deep breath and bit her lip to keep her face straight. She knew without needing to look in his direction or use her powers that Logan was grinning. “Shut up,” she said quickly, turning away briefly, smirking.
Maybe she was a little more drunk that she’d care to admit.
- One More Hour Later -
Logan was only starting to feel a buzz despite the fact that he had been drinking a pint of beer every five minutes or so. That’s why he began to order shots of whiskey. Technically, he bought the entire bottle and poured his own drinks. It worked out better that way, for everyone. He wanted to stay on the left side of sober considering just how much Emma was drinking. He had had to catch her from falling off her stool a few times, and as much as he hated to admit it she was an adorable drunk.
There was a time when Logan would have never thought that he and Emma Frost would be considered friends, but here they were in a dive bar having drinks and a laugh over whatever came up in conversation. And for some reason Emma wanted to talk about his past relationships. It was a little weird that she had kept such close tabs on who he was involved with, but he ignored it. If he wanted to retaliate he could have just mentioned her failed romances, or the fact that she was still hung up on One-Eye.
He threw back another shot, and set the glass on the counter a little stronger than usual. The problem with Logan getting more drunk was that he tended to withdraw into himself. But he still had enough sense to realize that he had a beautiful “date” with him. He grunted when she said something, and then leaned forward. “I gotta admit, Em. I didn’t hear a word you just said, but damn you looked pretty saying it.”
Whatever she might have said died on her tongue as Logan complemented her. “Of course I did,” she responded, sounding as though she couldn't consider a world where that wasn't the case. She grinned at him but looked at him quizzically, amused by the fact that as she tended to get chatty after a few drinks, he got quieter and his mind went to things like how pretty she was. The Wolverine wasn't nearly as enigmatic as some people assumed. "Focus," she said, giving him a light jab to the side with her elbow. "Now as I was saying..."
- Sometime Later -
Somewhere along the way, Emma had lost track of her companion for the night. She suspected, and her powers confirmed, that he'd gone off to the restroom. She was mildly envious of the fact that he'd probably be sober by the time he returned and that he wouldn't suffer in the same way she was bound to come tomorrow morning.
But she didn't linger on this thought for long, taking a sip from the glass of water Logan had handed her before taking his leave. Alone in the dive bar, Emma found herself feeling bored and uncomfortable, acutely more aware of how out of place she was without Logan there to put her at ease. She was also quite aware of the eyes that were focused on her due to the fact that her surly friend had stepped away. But even intoxicated, Emma wasn't as easy a mark as they imagined.
The bar was set to close soon, but Emma slowly strode, glass of water in hand, to the jukebox. That she could still walk in her heels, if a bit unsteadily, was a point of pride. She shuffled through some options before finally settling on Patsy Cline, one of the few singers she recognized and inserting a few coins into the machine.
The music started up as she headed back to her seat and, without entertainment, she watched the room and used her powers until a few of the men loitering around the bar started to sing about having leaving on their minds. Emma smirked into her glass. Upon his return, Logan would find half the bar really getting into the song.
Logan had to have been in the bathroom for several minutes. All that drinking had him peeing like a racehorse. It was a little funny at the number of men that had come in and left in the time that Logan had entered the bathroom. And yes, he noticed them checking his package because how else could a fella like him have such a pretty dame on his arm. It had to be the size, right? Because it couldn’t be his charming personality.
But Logan was never bothered by it. He didn’t have to prove his manhood to anyone, and nobody had the audacity to challenge him on it. When he was finally finishing up he heard the Patsy Cline song filtering through the door. He grinned knowing that Emma had chosen it. But he did not expect to see the patrons singing along to the song when he finally returned to Emma’s side.
“Ah’m guessin’ this is yer handy work,” he said with a chuckle. “Were they getting a little touchy, because I can take care of that for ya.” He cracked his knuckles and eyed the men that had gotten a little too close to where he and Em were sitting. “Not that you can’t take care of yerself,” he said quickly. “It’s just been a few hours since I’ve pummeled anyone and you know I can get antsy.”
Logan pushed the glass of water toward Emma, silently urging her to drink more while they were sitting at the bar and listening to the song.
“I can take you home whenever you’re ready,” he said. “Maybe after this song, though.”
- Shortly Thereafter -
Emma’s head was bent forward in the cab, but a turn had her leaning into Logan’s side. The buzz was gone and what remained was a bone deep exhaustion and a mild sense that her seat was spinning. It wasn’t altogether the most drunk she’d ever been, but vaguely, Emma knew she’d be paying for this night upon waking.
Eyes shutting, she decided to lean on Logan just the once, sighing. “You tell no one about this,” she murmured at him. “And I won’t have to take revenge on you. Alright?”