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Fic: The Bet 1/3

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  • Aericura
    greetings! I m new here, already dropped this to the other lists I ve subbed to (is this addiction or is it just me? :)) so I thought I d intro myself with
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 28, 2000
      greetings! I'm new here, already dropped this to the other lists I've
      subbed to (is this addiction or is it just me? :)) so I thought I'd intro
      myself with some fic! enjoy! :)

      Title/Part: The Bet 1/3
      Author: Shana Nolan
      E-Mail: dpangel@...
      Genre: humour
      Rating: PG; no real language, sex nor violence.
      Archive: myself, Melissa's, X-Grrls, Diebin's fic closet, others ask
      Spoilers: the movie (but I'm a comics grrl too). I'm also assuming J/S are
      engaged, not married, at this point.
      Beta: I am a beta, so I looked this over and made suggestions to myself. :)
      other than that, I'm just too erratic and impatient to have someone else
      look things over.
      Summary: Scott and Logan make a bet for the bike.
      Disclaimers: Fox and Marvel Entertainment Group have the X-Men and their
      movie. Stan Lee, I worship at your feet. I don't own anyone, I don't intend
      to sell this and LFL/Fox owns the movies I will soon be mocking into the
      foundation of the Salem Center on Greymalkin Lane. all hail God King Lucas.
      any disparaging Etch-a-Sketch, Kubrick and computer remarks are the fault of
      the POS that doesn't recognise my MP3s right now. no money, no sue, no
      but my CB handle was Phoenix (great, date yourself, why don't you).
      Comments: are welcome. Flames, however, are only accepted from a mutant
      named Pyro and even he knows better.


      Wandering down the hall in search of one of the -adult- mutants at the
      school-- he had been running into nothing but teenagers for the last hour--
      Logan shook his head and paused as he heard clangs from one of the larger

      "I think I'd have better luck with an Etch-a-Sketch... come on you piece


      Banging her head sharply on the bottom of the desk, Jean Grey peered up to
      spot the testier of their new residents and smiled thinly. "Yes?"

      "Something wrong?"

      "Nothing a good hammer wouldn't solve."

      Now this was getting interesting. Logan cocked his head and pointed at the
      piece of computer equipment on the desk above and next to her.

      "The computer's modem died; I'm repla-- trying to replace it."

      "So not only are you a geek and a doctor, but a geek, doctor and computer

      One of the screwdrivers floated off the desk and into her extended hand.
      "The professor can't do this for obvious reasons--"


      "--Scott doesn't have the patience to do it and Ororo keeps electrocuting
      the motherboard... so here I am."


      "So what do you need?"

      "Huh?" Scratching a hand and leaning on the doorframe, he shrugged. "Oh.
      I was looking for something to do."

      "You could fix your motorcycle?"

      His reaction over the suggestion was cryptic, but not enough to hide it from
      even her limited telepathy.

      "Scott mentioned something about booby trapping it last night so you would
      stop taking it without asking."

      "It figures that he has a thing for his bike." Stuffing hands in the jeans
      pockets, Logan watched a pair of neon clad girls fly-- literally-- by the
      office. "The motor's gone on the one I had."

      Her response was interrupted by a curse. "Maybe I should offer this thing
      up for target practice."

      "I'm sure you can get it fixed."

      "Don't bet on that."

      "Don't bet on what?"

      Turning his head to regard the black and grey clad figure of Scott Summers,
      Logan raised an eyebrow. "Your computer."

      Cocking his head, the ruby quartz glasses hiding most of his expression,
      Scott watched the desk as Jean clicked and then hit something underneath it.
      "What's wrong this time?"

      "One of the students. They were trying to download a movie trailer and the
      modem," there was a thunk of a hand against plastic, "finally went. Crashed
      the network for a few hours."

      "Oh. When you get the chance, come get me."

      "What's wrong, Cyclops, your seeing eye dog sick?"

      Refusing to acknowledge the comment, Scott indicated towards Xavier's
      office. "No... the professor needs to see us."

      Jean's voice traveled up from the desk. "Anything wrong?"

      "Could be."

      Rising to her knees, her red hair tousled from the odd angles she had to sit
      in to get to the back of the computer tower, powers aside, she looked at the
      two men and then down at her current project, ignoring the slight tension in
      the room. They could get along, but it was a matter of both of them doing
      so willingly. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

      "Okay." Turning around to leave, Scott paused, regarding the relaxed form
      of Logan leaning against the doorframe. Clearly this was no brief inquiry
      on his part. "Did I interrupt something?"

      "We were just discussing your motorcycle."

      "Like the feel of the vibrating leather under your seats, hotshot?"

      "Yes, I do, actually. As do you."

      His response was a shrug.

      "You're welcome to use it, just ask me first."

      There was a disinterested grunt as Logan popped a singular adamantium claw
      and slipped the tip under his beard, scratching at his skin. "Bet you
      couldn't go a day without it, huh?"

      "I wouldn't go that far..."

      "I would."

      Jean shook her head and went back to the dismantled computer at her feet.

      Scott shifted his feet. Fine, let them up the ante. "Let's bet on it
      then... I win, you stop taking it. You win, I give it to you."

      "And Jean finally gets to ride a Ducati," was the comment muttered under the

      Both men turned their heads and stared.

      "What? I liked the Ducati you looked at, and it's very easy to modify for
      our needs."


      Logan laughed.

      "The turbo isn't exactly a standard feature."


      Logan kept laughing, pulling the claw back in place under his skin.

      Scott ground his teeth. "So, terms of the bet?"

      "Don't look at me, bub."

      "Drinking game? Whomever can still stand wins?"

      Ruby quartz hid a look of contempt. "Jean... I don't think that's fair..."

      "You afraid you'll lose?"

      "No, I'm not. But your healing ability gives you a higher tolerance."

      Logan snorted. "No, my 'ability' keeps me from puking up my guts the next

      "Let's do it then."

      Standing up, setting the screwdriver down and smoothing her skirt, Jean Grey
      couldn't hide the grin. Now this was getting good. "Movie?"

      There was a pause. "The Star Wars rules are the easiest to remember."

      "Whoah, now. Star Wars?!"

      "Problem, Logan?" Scott smiled sarcastically, sensing his chance.

      "Star. Wars."

      "The Nerf Herder's afraid to play, Jean. Guess that means he gets to walk
      from here on out."

      Jean hid the giggle.

      Throwing his hands up in defeat, Logan pointed at the other man. "You guys
      really are geeks."

      Scott crossed his arms, waiting.

      Stalking off, he quickly said, "Fine."

      "See you in a few hours, Logan," Scott called cheerily after.

      A growl echoed down the hall.

      "This should be interesting."

      "I'll get my bike back."

      Jean smiled understandingly and knelt back down to finish beating the
      computer into submission. She knew better, but wasn't going to tell him--
      Scott Summers would be skulking for weeks if she called him on losing.
      "Sure, dear."


      TBC *eg*


      "Did you or your sister kill James Angelo?"
      "Oh yeah, a couple times." Practical Magic
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