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Fic: A Harbor in the Tempest: Act V: 7/7 - R - {L/R, R/B}

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  • victoria p.
    Disclaimers in part 1 *** indicates thoughts *** A Harbor in the Tempest Act V *** 7. Tijuana Airstrip Voices crackled over the radio sitting on the dash
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 27, 2001
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      Disclaimers in part 1

      ***

      < > indicates thoughts

      ***

      A Harbor in the Tempest
      Act V

      ***

      7.
      Tijuana Airstrip

      Voices crackled over the radio sitting on the dash of Logan's car.
      "Vancouver flight taking off in ten minutes. East runway. Visibility:
      one and one half miles. Light ground fog. Depth of fog: approximately
      five hundred. Ceiling: unlimited. Over."

      They got out of the car and one of the Mexican officers rushed to greet
      LeBeau. Logan stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder, silent testimony
      to how quickly the claws could come out if he didn't play along.

      Bobby and Rogue stepped out onto the tarmac.

      Logan said, "Remy, have your man go with Drake and take care of his
      luggage."

      "Anything you say, Logan," Remy replied, inclining his head. He turned
      to the policeman. "Find Mr. Drake's luggage and put it on the plane."

      "Yes, sir. This way, please." The policeman lead Bobby toward the plane.

      As they walked toward the hangar, Logan pulled the letters out of his
      pocket. "If you don't mind," he said ironically, "you fill in the names
      yourself. That'll make it even more official." He handed the papers to
      Remy.

      "You think of everything, don't you?"

      Logan looked over his shoulder at Marie. "The names are Mr. and Mrs.
      Robert Drake," he said softly.

      Remy stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. Both he and Rogue
      stared at Logan in astonishment.

      "But, why my name, Logan?" Rogue asked.

      "Because you're gettin' on that plane," Logan replied grimly.

      Rogue was confused. "I don't understand. What about you?"

      Logan's grin was feral and unfriendly. "I'm staying here with him," he
      gestured to Remy, "'til the plane gets outta here safely."

      Rogue blinked, as understanding dawned. "No, Logan. No. I want to stay
      here with you. What happened? Last night we said --"

      He interrupted. "We said a lot of things last night, kid. You said you
      wanted me to think for the both of us. Well, I've done a lot of thinkin'
      since then, and it all adds up to one thing. You're gettin' on that
      plane with Bobby, where you belong."

      "Logan, no! I belong with you -- I --" Rogue protested, grabbing his
      arm.

      Again, he didn't let her finish. "You listen to me, Marie. Do you have
      any idea what life would be like if you stayed here? Odds are, we'd wind
      up in a concentration camp. Ain't that right, Gumbo?"

      Remy didn't look up from where he was countersigning the papers. "I'm
      afraid Secretary Hodge would insist."

      "You're only sayin' this to make me go," Rogue cried.

      He took her shoulders and stared down into her eyes. "I'm sayin' it
      because it's true, kid. Inside of us, we both know you belong with
      Bobby. You're part of his work, the thing that keeps him goin'. If that
      plane leaves and you're not with him, you'll regret it."

      "No."

      "Yes. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of
      your life," he replied, cupping her cheek with a gloved hand.

      "But what about us?" she whispered.

      "We'll always have San Francisco. We didn't. We'd lost it, until you
      came to Tijuana. We got it back last night."

      "I said I'd never leave you." Her lower lip trembled and her eyes were
      bright with unshed tears.

      It took all the strength he had not to fling her over his shoulder and
      run for the plane. "And you never will," he said roughly, moving his
      hand down to trace the chain of his dogtags, which had reappeared around
      her neck this evening. She'd taken them off when she married Bobby, kept
      them with her as a remembrance. She'd put them on earlier, under her
      shirt, to mark the beginning of her new life. She was drawn back to the
      present by Logan's words.

      "But I got a job to do, too. Where I'm goin', you can't follow. What
      I've got to do, you can't be any part of." She shook her head and he
      engulfed her in his arms. "Marie, I'm no good at bein' noble, but it
      don't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't
      amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday, you'll
      understand that. Now, now--"

      She raised her face to him, the tears spilling from her chocolate velvet
      eyes. "Logan, I--"

      "Here's lookin' at you, kid," he murmured, brushing his lips against
      hers lightly, letting his feelings for her flow through the connection
      before he pulled away.

      Bobby came walking back, then. Logan took the letters from Remy and
      said, "You good to go?"

      Bobby jerked his chin toward the papers. "Is everything ready?"

      Logan nodded. "Yeah. Except for one thing. There's somethin' you should
      know before you go."

      Bobby tensed, knowing what was coming. "Logan, please. Don't explain
      anything."

      "I'm gonna explain anyway," Logan continued, inexorably. "Because it
      might make a difference later on. You knew about Rogue and me. But you
      didn't know that she was at my place last night. She came there for the
      letters of transit. Ain't that right, Marie?"

      Rogue faced her husband. "Yes."

      "She tried everything to get 'em, and nothin' worked. She did her best
      to convince me that she was still in love with me, but that was all over
      a long time ago. For your sake, she pretended it wasn't, and I let her,"
      Logan said forcefully.

      "I understand," Bobby said.

      Logan handed him the letters. "Here they are."

      "Thanks. I appreciate this more than you know." He held his hand out to
      the Canadian, who took it and shook it firmly. "And welcome back to the
      fight. This time, I know we'll win."

      A shout came from the plane -- they were waiting only for the last two
      passengers to board. They all turned to stare at it for a moment. Rogue
      looked at Logan, who gazed at her impassively, no emotion in his hazel
      eyes. His jaw was clenched tight, though, as were his fists. She was
      sure if she could see his hands, his knuckles would be white with
      strain.

      Bobby broke the silence. "Rogue, are you ready?"

      "Yeah." She turned to Logan. "Goodbye, Logan. Take care of yourself."

      "Always," he said gruffly, stroking her cheek one last time. "You better
      hurry, kid, or you'll miss the plane."

      Then Bobby took her arm and led her to the plane. Logan and Remy watched
      as they climbed the stairs.

      "Well, Remy was right. You are a romantic."

      "Shut the fuck up. I don’t know what you're talkin' about," Logan
      growled. He pulled out a cigar and used a single claw to clip it before
      lighting it.

      "What you just did for Drake, and that fairy tale you invented to send
      Rogue off with him. Remy knows women, mon ami. She went, but she knew
      you were lying."

      "Anyway," Logan went on, ignoring what Remy had just said, "thanks for
      helping me out."

      "I suppose you know this ain't gonna be pleasant for either of us,
      especially for you. I'll have to arrest you, of course."

      "As soon as the plane takes off, Remy."

      The plane taxied along the runway as a car came speeding onto the
      tarmac. Cameron Hodge jumped out of the car just as it came to a stop.

      "What is the meaning of that phone call?" Hodge demanded.

      Remy lit a cigarette and pointed. "Robert Drake is on that plane," he
      answered.

      "Why are you standing here? Stop that plane!"

      Remy shrugged. "Ask Logan."

      Hodge looked briefly at Logan, then reached inside his jacket pocket for
      his cell phone.

      "I wouldn't if I were you," Logan growled.

      "I'd advise you not to interfere," Hodge said coldly.

      "I was willin' to kill LeBeau and I'm willin' to kill you," Logan said
      evenly.

      Hodge watched the plane in agony. His eyes dart between Logan and the
      phone in his hand. He pressed a button and said, "Standish! Get me the
      radio tower!"

      "Put it down," Logan snarled.

      Hodge reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a gun.
      He shot quickly at Logan, but missed. They could hear sirens wailing as
      more police approached.

      *Snikt*

      The gun was cut to pieces; Logan embedded the claws in Hodge's stomach
      and jerked upward. Hodge crumpled to the ground as Logan withdrew the
      blades.

      In the distance, the plane turned onto the runway.

      A police car sped up, lights flashing. Four officers spilled out of the
      car and stood at attention in front of LeBeau.

      "Secretary Hodge has been attacked," Remy informed them. He glanced over
      at Logan, who returned his gaze with an enigmatic expression. "Round up
      the usual suspects."

      "Si, Señor," the lead policeman said, saluting smartly. They picked up
      Hodge's body, loaded it in the trunk of the car, and sped away.

      "Well, Logan, not only are you a romantic, but you've become a patriot.
      Xavier would be proud."

      "Maybe," Logan said, shrugging. "It seemed like a good time to start."

      Remy thought about everything that had happened the past few days. "I
      think perhaps you are right."

      They stood in silence and watched the plane take off through the fog,
      holding their gaze until it disappeared behind the clouds.

      "It might be a good idea for you to disappear for a while, Logan.
      There's a village down near Mazatlán that might work. I could be induced
      to arrange a passage."

      "My letter of transit? I could use a trip," Logan replied. "But it
      doesn't make any difference about our bet. You still owe me five
      thousand dollars."

      "And that five thousand dollars should just about cover our expenses,
      mon frere."

      "Our expenses?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

      "Oui."

      "Remy, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Logan
      rumbled.

      And the two men walked off into the night.

      ~~Fin~~


      ALL I WANT IS YOU - U2

      You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
      You say you want your story to remain untold.
      All the promises we make
      From the cradle to the grave
      When all I want is you.

      You say you'll give me a highway with no-one on it
      Treasure, just to look upon it
      All the riches in the night.

      You say you'll give me eyes in the moon of blindness
      A river in a time of dryness
      A harbour in the tempest.
      All the promises we make, from the cradle to the grave
      When all I need is you.

      You say you want your love to work out right
      To last with me through the night.

      You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
      Your story to remain untold
      Your love not to grow cold.
      All the promises we break, from the cradle to the grave
      When all I want is you.

      ***

      victoria

      --

      "Okay, two words I don't like right off the bat, "tomb" and "unearthed".
      People, you gotta leave your tombs earthed." Cordelia Chase, _Angel_

      --

      The Muse's Fool - http://musesfool.freehosting.net
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