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An Odd Sense of Deja Vu -Logan Drama 2/2

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  • groovekat@aol.com
    Fic-An Odd Sense of Deja Vu -Logans POV Author-Kitty. Groovekat@aol.com Rating- All about the R for language and violence. Pairing-Rogue and Logan (just to be
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 31, 2000
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      Fic-An Odd Sense of Deja Vu -Logans POV
      Author-Kitty. Groovekat@...
      Rating- All about the R for language and violence.
      Pairing-Rogue and Logan (just to be original) non-romantic.
      Style: Drama
      Disclaimer: It's all Stan Lee's and 20th Century Fox. Blame/worship them.
      Feedback: I'm dying here! Do you guys like this???
      Notes: BETA READER NEEDED! WANTED! BEGGED FOR!

      ~~~~~~~~~~~

      He left his jacket inside, knowing he would be faster without it. As he
      rounded the corner he saw the girl up against the building, one arm trapped
      behind her, the other pushing at the mans fist on her shirt. The guy fell to
      the ground as soon as she touched him, screaming, the veins in his face
      bulging. The girl pushed him away and raced away, heading for the woods.

      "Stan? Stan…get up!" The guys ran over to their friend, shaking him. He
      had passed out cold.

      "Shit! Mike! Is he breathing?" One asked, getting up and backing away.

      "Yeah…" Mike muttered, "she freaked him."

      "I'm going back, I'll get the guys." He said, turning towards the door.

      "You're not gonna say shit. You know how much money we could get for selling
      a mutant." With that he took off running after the girl.

      Logan growled deep in his throat and waited for the man to go back into
      the bar. He raced after Mike, unsheathing his claws. Snow fell around them
      rapidly, and only Mikes foul odor of sweat and beer kept Logan from losing
      him completely. That and the girls terror. He sensed that she had stopped
      running, fallen probably. He picked up his speed and saw Mike through a break
      in the snow. He barraged into him.

      "What the.." Mike questions falling onto the soft snow. He scrambled up,
      looking around him blindly. Logan retracted his blades, knowing he wasn't
      worth night mares , and punched him once, then twice. Mike went down. Logan
      turned and smelled the girl a few feet away. She was on the ground sobbing
      and trying to pull off her remaining glove. Logan approached her silently and
      picked her up by the shoulders. Her cloak which was hanging from her, he
      wrapped securely around her shivering form, careful to avoid her hands. "Get
      into the bar." He commanded.

      "Wha.." The storm had gotten so bad he couldn't even see her face anymore.
      Damn, he should have brought his jacket.

      "Go." He said, shoving her in the direction of the bar. She seemed to
      hesitate and then went with the wind toward the lights. Logan looked down at
      Mike and snorted. He picked him and threw him over his shoulder, heading for
      the woods.

      An hour later both Mike and his friend Stan were put together on the floor
      of an abandoned shack in the woods. "You're getting too soft Logan." He
      muttered to himself. To appease his grumbling anti-conscience Logan put Mikes
      hand down Stans pants. He headed back for the bar.

      "Have fun playing in the snow?" Vylette asked sweetly, as he entered the
      bar. "I knew you wouldn't leave without the money." Logan ignored her and
      inhaled deeply. He turned and saw a dark figure huddled into a corner,
      sleeping.

      "When do I get it?" He asked, taking off his jacket and shaking it out.

      "Me and Jimmy haven't even started counting. A few more boys wanna take you
      on."

      Wolverine pulled a wet cigar out of his pocket and cursed.

      "We have some in the back. I'll grab you a few." Vylette sauntered off. Logan
      headed to the bar.

      "How many suicidals." He asked, keeping an eye on the corner.

      "Two, and ones drunker than anything." Mac, the bartender replied. "You
      want anything?"

      "Bourbon." Logan said. Mac got out a glass. "The bottle." He hesitated then
      handed it to him. Logan took along swallow, feeling the fiery alcohol burn
      it's way through his veins. He drank it on his way to the cage and stripped
      of his clothing, handing it to Vylette.

      "I'll hang these to dry in the back, your cigars are there too." She said.
      Why that woman was nice to him, Logan didn't get.

      He went through the next two fights not even bothering to try and make it
      look tough. The only punches they were able to get in was whenever Logan
      thought he saw a dark hood out of the corner of his eye. When it was obvious
      no one else in the waning crowd was drunk enough or brave enough to take him
      on, Logan bounded down the steps. He strode to the back room, closing the
      door behind him when he got there. He paced the office, pulling on his still
      damp shirt lying under the desk light. He nursed the bottle of bourbon,
      trying to clear his head. She was a skinny little thing, not the kind to
      usually attract his attention. The girl was a mutant, that's why he was so
      aware of her. Now what was he going to do? Talk to her. "Hi my name is Logan
      and I'm a mutant too. Wanna be my friend?" Logan snorted. He'd helped her
      once. She could get on by herself. He left the back room, and was startled to
      see almost everyone gone.

      "What happened?" He asked Vylette.

      "The police came in about three minutes after you went in the back.. Said
      something about finding some hunters ripped to shreds a few miles from here.
      Some kinda wild animal." She shrugged. "Cleared the crowd right out. Me and
      Jimmy are gonna go count the money." He walked towards the bar and saw that
      the girl was there.

      "Beer." He grumbled, throwing some money on the counter. Mac nodded and
      brought him one. The girl looked at him like she was trying to get the
      courage to say something. He gave her a black look and chewed on the end of
      his cigar. She turned away immediately.

      "…mutant population…" Logan stared at the screen, keeping his face
      expressionless. That damn law. It was going to be passed. And that's why he
      was going to keep running. No one was gonna stick a number on his forehead.

      "You owe me something girl." Logan looked up and saw Mikes friend, who had
      ran back into the bar, standing behind the girl. He looked back at his beer,
      his fist clenched around it.

      "I…I don't know what you're talking about." She stumbled, her voice high
      and thin.

      "No man passes out from a touch. All you did was grab his hand and he clear
      passed out." The man accused loudly. Logans' mind raced and his hand wrapped
      tightly around the bottle. If he got in the middle of it, he was out of a
      couple grand.

      "C'mon, he was just drunk." His friend urged, trying to pull him away.

      "No, drunk people don't scream before they pass out." He said, glaring at
      her.

      "I didn't do anything. He attacked me." The girl whispered, her face white.
      The man leaned close to her.

      "I know what you are freak." Before the man even had a chance to pop out
      his switchblade, Logans' bottle shattered in his hand and he stood, slamming
      the man against the wall. There were always more people waiting to be beaten
      up for money.

      He didn't see the knife land in his side, but pulled it out a second later
      clenching his teeth until the brief pain passed and he healed. While debating
      whether or not to use his blades, the guy kicked him in the groin. Decision
      made. Logan pushed him back against the wall, and pulled his fist back. The
      man winced, expecting a killer blow. Instead he got his neck framed by two
      blades that ripped from Logans' fist, with one pressing into his throat. The
      next second Logan heard the sound of a shot gun being readied.

      "Get out of my bar freak." Mac said unsteadily. Logan paused for a minute
      and then swung his free hand around to his back, splitting the gun in two. He
      stepped back, retracting his blades. He glared at them both experiencing an
      odd sense of déjà vu, and then walked out of the bar. Logan keened his ears
      to see if the girl would follow. She didn't. It was her funeral. He strode
      toward his car, noticing that the storm had broken. He slammed into his car
      and sat there. Stupid girl. He should've grabbed her on the way out. Logan
      rubbed his knuckles absent-mindedly. Oh well. He started the car.
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