Normally, these days, Logan wouldn't have picked up at all. He wanted no distractions on his search for Laura. Seeing Reed with his little punk of a brother had brought home to Logan just how much he wanted Laura to be safe and sound. Surely, he'd just met the girl, but if Karr was anything to judge by, Logan's fatherly instincts seemed to imprint on his cubs quite readily, no matter how naughty or nice they might be. But when he saw James' number, he could scarcely believe it. When the man had been recalled by Special Forces there was a part of him that figured he might never see hair nor hide of the man again. James was like Logan in that he wouldn't be calling just to say hi. Something had to be up. He pulled his Harley chopper up to the side of the road and left it purring on idle as he picked up the phone. He had abandoned his fancy truck a ways back, since he was past the point of being on any official Haven business. The lead he had was precisely something he would have shared with the Black Ops team, had James been around.
"James, you sonofabitch. You still owe me twenty bucks," were the first words out of his mouth. This was tantamount to a kiss and a hug for his bromance partner, and it was a joke, mostly. The last time they'd been out drinking, Logan had picked up the tab for the last few beers because every ATM on the way there had been broken. Even distressed as he was, his first instinct was to try and make James crack a grin.