WHO: Logan and Scott Summers WHEN: June 30th, late morning WHERE: The garage, X-Mansion WHAT: Logan and Scott have a "discussion".
It'd only been a few minutes since Emma had left his office, but it'd felt like an eternity before his breathing and heart rate came back down.
He had other things he needed to take care, phone benefactors, arrange outings for the younger students, but after his encounter with her, he just couldn't concentrate.
Sighing, he pushed himself away from his desk, and began the long walk downstairs. Crossing his fingers, he prayed that Logan was off terrorizing someone else, or drinking the rest of his beer, that he was anywhere else BUT the garage.
Getting to the door though, he learned quickly that there was no God. Even with the garage door open, he could smell the stench of cigar smoke and hear some godawful music on the radio. He would've walked away, gone to the solarium or the library, if it wasn't for the fact that Logan was wiping down Emma's car. Curiouser and curiouser.
"Did you lose a bet?" He leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed.
Well, there it was - the voice Logan had been hoping to avoid for at least the rest of the day. It'd been going pretty damn well, he thought, right up until the second the door opened and hell if he couldn't practically smell the self-righteous on him. He didn't look up. He didn't stop what he was doing. He did roll his eyes.
"I can't do a good turn without losin' a bet, huh?"
"No." He wasn't surprised to just hear the smirk in Logan's voice, but he was surprised at the defensiveness of it. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation.
"You know Emma doesn't like people touching her things. Not that that would stop you, you know, someone else's feelings aren't things to respect."
"Trust me, she's gonna want the car waxed." He bent and fished up the wax from the floor, then kept on going without elaboration. "And yer gettin' it wrong again, your feelins aren't things to respect. Turns out I respect Emma's just fine."
"I just waxed her car yesterday. You want to tell me what exactly happened that it needs it again?" He'd been hearing rumours of a certain new recruit who had been just a tad bit too friendly with the others, and even though he really didn't want to know what was going on, he knew he had to hear it.
He could see Logan didn't want to answer, so he walked closer to the car, standing tall to give himself even more height over the Canadian. "Well?"
Finally, Logan looked up. Which, of course, meant he had to look up, considering how damn close Scott was standing and yeah, so anyone else and he wouldn't've cared, he was used to it, but looking up at Scott freaking Summers made him want to hurt things. Possibly Scott's car, that'd sit real well with him right about now. "S'great how you think you get to order me round," he said, with a hint of a smirk. "Shame you ain't the boss of me, Summers."
"I'm the leader of the X-men, Wolverine. Seems you tend to forget that when it's convenient. That means, when something is going on that is affecting the team, I need to know about it. And you know what? I can't have secrets in this house."
He had to suppress an urge to slap that smirk off of Logan's face. "So. I'll ask again. What the hell is going on."
"Well it sure as hell ain't gonna affect the team," he said, with an amused shake of his head. "'Sides, I'm guessin' you wouldn't be askin' if you didn't have some suspicions right now. You sure you wanna know?"
No, he really didn't want to know. Why couldn't someone else be the boss sometimes? Instead of saying that, he just merely continued staring down Logan, arms crossed, his jaw firmly set. He hadn't really had many suspicions other than the niggling rumours, but with every answer he was receiving, the more he wanted to know what was going on.
"Guess I'll take that as a yes." He smiled, darkly, amused, and crossed his arms over his chest so his pose mirrored Scott's. "Pity I still ain't gonna tell ya. Some things a guy's gotta keep 'private, One-Eye."
God he hated that nickname. "Nothing about you is private, Logan. Hell, even when you piss in the morning, half the school has to hear you do it."
"Well seems you don't know about this," he said, tilting his head. "You think that's tellin' ya somethin'?"
"Oh for Christ's sake, Logan. Is it THAT hard to just answer my question? I mean, I know your brain is about the size of an elephant, but even elephants know to behave sometime."
Oh it was on.
"Considerin' how I don't want to answer yer question," he said, "yeah." He shrugged, unfolding his arms and settling his hands on his hips. "Ain't nobody's business but mine. Why're you so bent on gettin' it outta me? Damn, Summers, you need to get laid."
"I hardly think that's an appropriate topic for the school grounds," Scott said, teeth starting to clench. It'd been at least a week or so since their last argument - seeing as Logan hadn't been around, it'd been easy to avoid him - and Scott could feel himself slowly losing control.
"We don't want them to grow up and turn out like you, do we, Wolverine."
"Better than the happy goddamn fluffy kitten brigade we're raisin' round here," he said, and clenched his jaw, letting it jut now Summers was really starting to piss him off. "We can't treat these kids like nothin's gonna hurt 'em if they're good an' fair. An' sex really ain't a dirty word."
"No, but challenging me in front of so many new recruits, who don't understand exactly who they should be listening to, isn't very helpful to this situation." His voice had been steadily increasing, as he was starting to care less and less who was listening.
"Who's challengin'?" he asked. "Me? 'Cause I sure as hell wasn't in the same room as you this week." He raised his brows. "Somethin' you wanna get off yer chest?"
"Yeah, I do." He tightened a fist to his side, suppressing the urge to just pound him, metal skeleton be damned. "I'm sick of your attitude and frankly, I don't see what exactly you contribute here other than a foul smell, a bad example, and loose morals." "
"So ya just thought hey, I know, that foul-smellin', loose-moralled bad example we got over there, I'll go right ahead and put him in charge'a the kids?" He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I ain't corruptin' the kids, Summers. I tell 'em what they need ta know ta keep 'em alive, same as you would. Just no damn sugar-coatin'." He narrowed his eyes, looking him over. He knew that posture. "You gonna hit me? You look like you're gonna hit me."
"Well pain seems to be the only thing you understand, but I have some restraint. I'm not controlled by my baser instincts."
Logan snorted, apparently right back at amusement. Summers was a hell of a lot closer to the truth than he realized. "Sure you are," he said. "Havin' this conversation, aren't ya? You coulda turned round and walked right out any time, One-Eye, but here you are."
Well, that would've been the smart and sensible thing. And previous to Emma's coming in and just frustrating him more, he would've probably done just that. Heck, he'd walked away from the garage numerous times since he realized it'd become Logan's haven too.
"You're in my garage, touching Emma's car, and just generally looking like you don't belong. You think I'm going to just let that stand?"
"Your garage?" Logan snorted again at that and shook his head. "I think I must'a missed somethin' here 'cause I don't see your name on it." He glanced around theatrically, then put a hand on the hood of the car. "An' I'm doin' a good job with the car. You think I'm gonna damage it? The woman had me skippin' through fields of daisies in my head out on the lawn, I'm gonna risk that?"
That was pretty good. Even he had to admit that.
"You know what?" He snorted. "Forget this. I'm done." He threw his hands in the air. "Take this as the metaphorical 'whatever'. I don't care anymore." Walking back towards the house, he stopped and turned around.
"And don't have sex in the garage. That's disgusting." He still wasn't 100% positive that was why he was cleaning the car, but it made sense to him. How else would a car that rarely left the garage, get such odd scratches. Belt Buckles?
Logan's brows inched up a bit. "Well, ain't that a first," he said, with a shrug. Whatever, he got his garage back Cyclops-free. He snickered, going back to the waxing, not bothering to glance up again. "Least I clean up after myself. An' you say I'm an animal."