"So why can I practically fuckin' smell him on ya?" he asked, voice harsh as he stood his ground, waiting and oh God. Oh sweet holy fucking God and Kurt would frown at him so hard for even thinking that, there was a new smell in the air, a new sound. Somewhere down the corridor, mercifully behind Logan and behind Paige wherever the hell she'd gotten off to though he could still smell the metal of her, a door opened. The unsavory odor of gym socks and sweat rippled out into the corridor and the kids laughing, well. They stopped in a second. This changed things.
"Looks like ya get yer wish after all," he muttered, terse. Then he stepped into the center of the corridor, stretched his arms to his sides - his claws caught against the panels and he didn't dare look back over his shoulder at the kids. For all his bulk, Creed was fast. Logan couldn't afford to let his guard down for a second.
"Thought you kids were learnin' Shakespeare," he called back instead. "That ain't a goddamn Midsummer Night's Dream s'far as I can tell."
The kids did at least stop, as they heard Logan's voice and got a good look at what was beyond him. "French," one of them said, surprisingly steady though once he placed the voice it wasn't such a shock. He could've rolled his eyes. "We're skipping French, Logan, not English. Parlez-vous..."
"Shut it, Jubes." Remarkably, she did. "Paige?" He felt bad blowing her cover that way but those kids needed to get the hell out of Dodge. Logan had seen what Sabretooth could do, over and over and over again. "Kid, right time ta get yer ass out here is now."