InsaneJournal

Who: Logan Howlett and Velma Kelly
What: Talking about the baby and the stuff going on
When: 2/23, during the orc battles
Where: Chez Howlett
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete



Velma had been trying not to be on edge for the sake of the baby, but the last few days had made it hard. Volcanic apocalyptic-style ash in the air and weird fucking orc-beasts running around had a way of getting somebody’s attention.

She’d stayed inside, making sure Eli was okay and looking after the dog, spending a lot of time on the couch. Logan had been in and out, killing shit and then coming back to make sure they were okay. Right now she was trying to get the dog food from a low cabinet without falling or bumping Amy at all.

Logan was covered in orc blood, and had spent the past fifteen hours tracking and slowly killing off a roving band of Uruk raiders, so he was glad to be home and check in on Vel. He coughed as he entered, slamming the door. “Fuck.”

Velma got to her feet with difficulty when she heard the door, and she would have grabbed the knife block had she not heard her fiance swear. “Hey. In here. Ow.” The baby kicked, and it took her by surprise.

“How you holdin’ up?” He squinted at her. “Sit the fuck down.” He walked over and helped her sit down. “It’s like the fuckin’ apocalypse out there.” He snorted.

“You okay? You look like hell.” He seemed fine, but it was something a body usually ought to ask. Velma sat down, nodding a thank you as her back hit the chair. “I was trying to feed Gardar, but I couldn’t get in the damn low cupboard. About six weeks to go with this. Kinda glad I haven’t gotten too freaked out by anything; if this kid came in the middle of all this crap that might get inconvenient.” She grinned at him a little.

“I’ll get over it,” Logan said, unzipping his X-Force leathers and stripping right there. He nodded at her belly and grinned to himself. “Don’ let her fall out, darlin’.”

“Not if I can fuckin’ help it.” Velma laughed, ogling appreciatively. “Eli’s asleep, and I’d rather have you sit there naked than get black blood on the damn couch. Hope it doesn’t stick to your ass, though.”

Logan twisted around to look at his ass and grunted. “I’ll be in the shower, think you’ll be okay for a few minutes?” He didn’t intend to be long, but he needed a break. Unless Clarice popped in just then. Then she’d get an eyeful. Thankfully, she didn’t.

“Be okay? Shit, I’m coming to watch.” Velma smirked. “Unless you wanna be alone.” She’d obviously respect it if he did. “I can walk up stairs.”

"You could help." He grinned at her and slapped a hand on his ass so hard that it bounced.

“That could totally be arranged.” God damn, he was ripped everywhere. Velma sighed happily. Still, she had to ask, as they headed up the stairs. “Any casualties for our people? Everyone mostly okay?” She figured yes, she’d have heard if not, but still.

"Cuts and scrapes, nothin' serious. Kitty took a sword to the back but she was back out fightin' after an' hour." He sounded worried. "Shallow cut, at least."

Velma wouldn’t have been worried had it been anyone but Kitty. That girl had a tendency to ignore her own pain - especially, from what she’d been told, around this time of year. She sighed. “She better be okay or there’ll be people waiting to resurrect her and kill her again.” She opened the bathroom door for Logan, laughing a little at a sudden thought. “You are so going to ruin the towels in there.”

"I'll be in the first on that list," Logan promised. "An' I'll buy some new ones." He stepped inside and leaned over to turn the shower on. Even his muscles were aching right now. "This better fuckin' not be clogged with ash."

“Nah, don’t think so. It worked this morning.” Velma came into the room with him, sitting on the toilet, watching him. “I really wish this shit would clear. I mean, life has to move on, you know?”

“This ash keeps up we’re gonna end up buried in it,” Logan groused. As soon as the water was hot, he slipped underneath it. “Keep an ear out for my phone, darlin’.”

“Don’t joke, I’m due in five weeks.” Velma made a face. But she did start to half-listen for his phone. “Who’re you expecting to call, Scott?”

“Maybe.” He rinsed at his hair. “Or Kitty. If they still need me out there.”

“They probably will.” Velma wasn’t upset, just stating facts. “Are you only seeing fighters out there, or are there civilians?”

“Haven’t come across any noncombatants. Seems like people are bein’ smart an’ stayin’ put.” It was like he was peeling layers of ash off. At least that’s what it felt like.

“Good.” Velma watched him appreciatively. “You don’t have any scars or cuts, so at least this is run of the mill type shit.” She’d wondered if this would affect even him - magic stuff sometimes counteracted other magic, after all. But he seemed fine, which was a relief. She smiled, looking him over. “You look sexy all bloody and bruised, I gotta say.”

“Nothin’ that hasn’t healed over. Saw Wade lose an arm, he’ll be fine though.” Logan said it like it was every day run of the mill stuff. He grinned at her over his shoulder, while he leaned against the side of the shower.

“Wade ... he regens like you?” She’d seen the crazy man on the network, but thank God she’d never talked to him. She smiled, standing up, folding her arms, unabashedly ogling her fiance in the shower.

“Faster. Hyperfast,” Logan explained. “Can get an arm back in somethin’ like twenty minutes. That shit takes me longer. But downside is it hypercharges his cancer so he’s ugly as fuck because it an’ the healin’ factor fight. Or he was. He ain’t that ugly right now.”

“Jesus.” Velma looked stricken. “That sounds horrible. Kind of explains why he’s a little crazy, huh.” She’d wanted to maybe get in the shower with him, but her back was starting to ache, and she eased back onto the closed toilet. “Goddammit. I’d like to stop hurting.”

“Few more weeks, then you’ll be hurtin’ so fuckin’ hard you’ll wanna kill me,” Logan joked.

“You joke.” Velma laughed. “I will probably break your fuckin’ hand during delivery, I am telling you right now. Faiza better be able to fix that, if you can’t.” She grinned up at him, watching him. “Shit, I need to talk to her, speaking of.”

“It’s made o’metal, darlin’. But you might strain my fingers an’ that’s okay.” He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? ‘Bout what?”

“I want her to deliver the baby.” Velma looked up at him. “In case she comes out with claws or something.” She chuckled a little. “I just figure it’s safer having a dreamer do it than a random person.”

“... Fair enough. Don’t think that’ll happen but there ain’t no guarantee.” He’d rather she be alive than not. There was always that other shoe he expected to drop.

“From what I understand, the claws come in later, if there’ll be any, but I’d just rather be safe.” Velma smiled a little. “I trust Faiza. She patched me up after the firebombing, and I don’t know, she’s fixed you a lot.” She didn’t want to let on how scared she was about actually having the baby - she wasn’t weak, and didn’t want to look it - but Faiza’s presence would help with that.

“Faiza is good people. Only met her once in the dreams, but she left a good impression. If Pete Wisdom respects her than that’s a pretty good thing.” He had slagged most of the ash off of his body by now.

“Wisdom is the ... Kitty’s friend, right? The guy married to Navi?” Velma remembered Navi. “I didn’t know you knew each other.”

“Yeah. Shoulda known he’d marry a fairy. An’ we’re from the same dreams. He an’ Kitty were on a team together for awhile.” Wisdom was an ass, but they understood each other in that way that killers did.

“Why would you think he’d marry a fairy?” Velma laughed. “Did you know any before?”

"Apparently he got married to the daughter of Oberon as part of a treaty between England and the Fae realm," Logan replied, smirking. That he'd gotten out of the man after about thirty rounds of drinks.

“ ... That’s hilarious.” Velma was grinning. “Hope I get to meet the man sometime. I only heard about him and how grumpy he is.”

She heard a loud crack outside, and got up, looking out the window. “Fuck. One of those things is trying to climb that big tree.” Velma left the room, looking for her pistol. As long as there was only one, she ought to be able to handle it.

Logan sighed, looking at his cleanliness wistfully. He called out. “Maybe you should use the rifle!”

“You don’t think the recoil might hurt Amy?” Velma called, but she got it anyway - it was with her pistol, in the den. She cracked the window just a little, starting to load the rifle. “Good thing it’s shitty at climbing.” The big whatever-it-was kept failing to get footholds and sliding - it made the whole thing almost funny.

"As long as you've got it on your shoulder it ain't gonna do anything to her," Logan said, wrapping a towel around his waist so that he could watch this.

“Yeah, I suppose. I just worry a lot.” Couldn’t blame her for that, she figured. Velma cocked the rifle, taking slow aim. She took a breath, trying to get zen before firing.

She’d been taking lessons, and it paid off. Velma squeezed the trigger gently, gritting her teeth as the rifle kicked. But the shot had hit; she heard an anguished gurgle and the thing had fallen to the ground again, now clutching its neck.

She cocked the rifle again, firing once more. She’d been aiming for the neck again, but she hit the thing square in the eye. Velma laughed. “Close enough, I guess?”

“Not bad. You’re gettin’ me all riled up, darlin’,” He said, sidling up against her and kissing her neck.

“I try.” Velma smirked, making sure the safety was on before putting the gun down. “You and chicks with guns. I sorta get it.” She didn’t inherently think guns were sexy, but a guy with fighting dirt on him, hell yes.

He licked her shoulder, then bit lightly, growling. It seemed like words weren’t on his mind any more.

Worked for her. As long as nothing else came through the window. Velma smiled, eyes closing.