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FIC: A Logan of a Different Color (1/1) R

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  • Scary Sare
    Title: A Logan of a Different Color (Specifically, Pink Tulle) Author: Sare Liz, teknovamp@yahoo.com Disclaimer: My muse is his own, characters to Marvel,
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 26, 2001
      Title: A Logan of a Different Color (Specifically, Pink
      Author: Sare Liz, teknovamp@...
      Disclaimer: My muse is his own, characters to Marvel, Fox,
      power brokers in very expensive suits�.
      Archiving: Lists, teknovamp. All else ask.
      Rating/Codes: R for the language of my muse and the
      possibility of crunched toes. If you have no sense of
      humor, read no further. Shades of R/L, horrible overtures
      of a �Logan of a different color, shall we say. Part
      metafic, part humor.
      Dedication: Jenn for soothing a ranting Logan while I
      watched amused from the sidelines, and screaming at me to
      post this when I wasn't certain at all.

      Author's Note: The body of this is two part, both below.
      The second is a standard fic like story. The first is a
      conversation between my muse and my beta. For many
      different reasons, the text below has been edited. Use
      your imagination.

      Warning: No, seriously. If you don't have a sense of
      humor, don't read it. My Logan Muse got a little tetchy
      one night with all of the depictions of Logan (all lovingly
      crafted and wonderfully characterized) that were just a bit
      too� Um, soft for him. He went a little nuts. (And he
      still doesn't know about the pink tulle comment.)


      _First thing that's gotta fuckin go - Pansy assed cryin.
      What in HELL is that about? I mean, have a little self
      control for *censored*'s sake. Suck it up, bub!_

      [Go Logan. Tell 'em.]

      _And what's all of this touchy-fuckin-feely crap? Since
      WHEN have I gotten in touch with my inner child without
      serious coercion? Not to say that I can't be romantic, not
      to say that I can't be sensitive, but hell, I do it with a
      certain amount of distinctive flair, wouldn't you think?_

      _I'm not a backwards bluefields hick, ykno? But you see me
      in Rio? In Madripoor? You wouldn't fuckin recognize me,
      darlin. I'm as smooth as fuckin silk, tricky as a viper and
      twice as manipulative than anything you've ever seen. And I
      do it with flair, my friend, with flair._

      [Yes, baby. I know. I do. Flair. Yes, baby. I know this.]

      _I could rule the roost at the mansion if I chose to, but I
      don't. I let Slim do his thing because he's reasonably good
      at it and cares about the cause more than I do. He deserves
      a chance at being in charge, and so long as he doesn't
      screw it all to hell or die on me, I let him and Ro lead,
      that's fine. I have commitments elsewhere anyway. But when
      it comes down to it, we know. We all know. Chuck knows, Ro
      knows, Red knows, the Cajun, Beast, iceboy, Rogue,
      everybody knows. And when push comes to shove, I shove
      back. Everybody knows. I don't swear because I have to. I
      swear because it's fun._

      [We know, Logan. You are the badass.]

      _It's not even that, babe, tho I'm tellin ya, it warms the
      cockles of my apparently hypersensitive weepy pink wearin
      heart to hear you say it._

      [I'm glad I can make you happy. You're about to fuck the
      daylights out of Marie.]

      _It's got nothing to do with being a badass, even tho it's
      damn fun. Damn fun. It's just that I'm the best at what I
      do. No two ways about that. And I do a hell of a lot._

      _I do Marie, apparently. *nods* I can live with that. She's
      a good kid. I could love her, I'm sure._

      _Shit, and it's not that I'm above showing emotion, or
      having the emotions to show. But I do have my dignity,
      besides any sort of pride that might be involved. Can't I
      show that I adore a girl without collapsing on her
      shoulders crying torrential tears?_

      [Logan, I have NEVER denied you are the coolest X-Man ever.
      That you are the very epitome of X-ness. That you are
      perfectly capable of showing love and affection without
      once descending into *censored*.]

      _*grin* I know, darlin. I'm just venting, is all. This has
      been pissin me off for far too long._

      _*nods* Yea. That's it. What is this anyway? A soap opera?
      Where's all the melodrama comin from? Jubes?_

      _Did I say venting? Typo. Meant ranting._

      *** And now the fic ***

      "Logan? Logan, that you sugar?"

      *dejected sniff*

      "Logan, I can see the lump under the covers. You're not
      foolin' anyone."

      "Go away."

      "Come on, sugar. Why don't you just... Logan? My God,

      *another truly pathetic sniffle*

      "You are not doing what I think you're doing, are you
      honey? I mean, this has gone ENTIRELY too far, baby."

      "You're just saying that because you don't really
      understand me. No one here understands me. Everyone hates

      "Logan, baby, don't cry, sugar. It's really unbecoming."

      "See? See? You DON'T really care about me. You just want me
      to be a� a� a *badass*. Everyone just wants me to be the
      scapegoat. Everyone."

      "No, sugar, that ain't it..."

      "Yes! Yes it is! Stop it! Stop the lies! Stop the insanity!
      It's all around me, even here!"


      "Scott blames me for seducing Jean. That was totally not
      what happened, buttercup. She was horribly dissatisfied
      with him and had been for some time. She was looking for an
      excuse and I was present and accounted for."

      "You banged her every day for two weeks, sugar. If I were
      Scott, hell, if I'd not been sleeping with Remy and St.
      John at the time, I'd'a killed ya, sugar."

      "Well, yes, it was rather a long tryst as things go, but I
      was swept up in the moment, feeling particularly vulnerable
      myself. Do you have any idea what it did to me to realize
      that you were in a manage et trois with those two? I nearly
      had a heart attack, sweetums."

      "Logan, I hate to point out the obvious here, but you'd

      "But the pain in my heart will never go away."

      "Nah sugar, you'd heal if I stuck a fireplace poker through

      "No, sweetheart, apple of my eye, daughter of my heart,
      love of my life... I meant the emotional pain of seeing
      you, the woman I adore, sandwiched in between fireboy and
      the Cajun, both covered head to toe and you naked as the
      day you were born. I wanted to kill them, slowly while I
      ravished you."

      "And if you had sugar, I would have cheered. You didn't."

      "I know, Oh Woman Who Owns The Keys To My Heart. I know. I
      felt so remorseful over such horrible thoughts that I
      couldn't bear to be seen. My visage was truly more
      detestable than anything else, a frightful thing no one
      should be subject to, if I could wish such things upon you
      when you were obviously so very happy."

      "Well, yea, you try having a fifteen minute orgasm and see
      how sad you are."

      "See? I could never give you that. My inadequacy knows no

      "Uh, sugar? When did you turn into such a fuckin pansy? The
      you in my head wants me to put you out of your misery so I
      can at least have the claws. You cry any more and I may
      take that plan-o-action under consideration."

      The end.

      Have you seen your muse today?
      "To seek is to lose, for seeking presupposes a separation between the seeker and the sought." - Trinh T. Minh-ha

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