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Fic: The Bet 2/3

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  • Aericura
    I normally don t jump scenes like this, but I figured it d be appreciated if I didn t accost y all to commentary about 6hrs of film. :) I also apologise in
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 28, 2000
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      I normally don't jump scenes like this, but I figured it'd be appreciated if
      I didn't accost y'all to commentary about 6hrs of film. :) I also
      apologise in advance to non-SW fans; this is what happens when you write
      solid TPM for over a year. *g*


      Title/Part: The Bet 2/3
      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 powers. 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.

      *~*~*~*~*


      "You call this beer?"

      Scott scowled. "You have a better suggestion?"

      "No."

      "Then it stays."

      The doors to the lounge opened smoothly, Jean strolling through with a box.
      Turning her head a little as she paused mid-stride, the doors closed easily
      behind her as she held up a video tape. "One set, original trilogy,
      letterbox and pre-special edition."

      Logan rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, we just can't give the Sarlacc pit a
      mouth, now can we?"

      Both Jean and Scott blinked at him. "There something you're not telling
      us?"

      Logan moved his hand around, trying to dig for some proper response without
      looking like... well, them. "So I've seen them."

      "More than once?"

      He cocked an eyebrow. "More than my fair share."

      Jean walked between the guys, ignoring the two sets of eyes that followed
      her butt as she reached the VCR. "Good, that way you already know most of
      the rules."

      "Rules."

      Scott circled to sit at the couch, kicking his feet up on the table and
      stretching out. "Yeah, rules. Can you handle them, Logan?"

      "Of course I can, blinkie. Can you hold your alcohol or should I just take
      the keys now?"

      Jean coughed. "I'm here to keep you two from cheating... or killing each
      other."

      "Jean, you know I wouldn't do that--"

      Logan smiled wolfishly.

      "--unless I had good motivation."

      Shaking her head, she pointed at the VCR and then at the table. "Scott..."

      He shrugged, his glasses hiding the annoyed glance.

      "No claws."

      Logan dropped the smile.

      "No concussive beams."

      Scott picked at his sweater.

      "And no breaking anything. We're still on school grounds."

      "We always are."

      "And don't forget it. Logan, hit play. I'll be right back; I have to check
      the LAN settings on that computer."

      The guys exchanged glances, waiting for the other to make the first move,
      Logan diving for a beer bottle. Following suit, Scott grabbed one and
      uncapped it with a quick twist.

      With an amused snort Logan popped a singular claw, pierced the cap and
      opened the bottle with a minimal amount of fizz.

      Slamming the doors with her hands, Jean closed her eyes and shook her head.
      If these two made it past the cave on Dagobah, she'd be amazed.


      ~*~


      "This really is one of the better movie companies, you know."

      "Can it, one eye."

      "Can't talk and read at the same time?"

      "Only if it's a conversation with you."

      Scott shrugged.


      ~*~


      "Take a drink."

      "What?"

      Someone just got choked."

      Logan rolled his eyes. This was one strange way to get sloshed.

      Jean grinned. "I never have figured out how to get that hair."

      "I could try for ya," was the muttered comment from the couch.

      Jean arched an eyebrow. Scott scowled.


      ~*~


      "I really hate that whiny brat."

      "Great, so you hate the -main- character. How did you ever get through the
      20th century?"

      "Same way you did, but I had more fun."

      "Would you two shut up and take a drink?"

      Logan sighed and ignored the urge to hum along with the music. He was -not-
      going to give them the pleasure of knowing he knew it.


      ~*~


      "'Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've constructed--'"

      "Feeling a kinship to the masked one, One Eye?"

      Scott licked his lips after swallowing the dram of ale. "Only if your long
      lost brother is Chewbacca."

      "At least he lives at the end."

      Jean sighed. "Could you possibly cheapen this scene any more?"

      Logan pulled a fresh bottle and opened it. "No, but I could try."


      ~*~


      "Is it just me, Jean, or is there a similarity between Obi-Wan and the
      Professor?"

      "You mean outside of the Jedi having hair?" Logan interjected.

      Shaking her head, Jean nursed at her own bottle of beer. She didn't care
      much for the stuff, but she had caved about three scenes back, determined to
      not stay sober as the peanut gallery kept bickering back and forth.

      It was almost cute.

      "Yes, there is. Hey!"

      Both men responded at the same time. "What?"

      "I told you he shot first!"

      Logan snickered. "Of course he did. You expect him to play fair?"

      "Obviously," Scott murmured, hiding the sardonic smirk, "we've found your
      favourite of the series."

      "'I prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around.'"

      Looking up to the amused expression on his beau's face, Scott shrugged. He
      could take this flirting, and even the looks he caught Jean giving the hairy
      Wolverine didn't bother him...

      Well, mostly.

      "That much is obvious, Logan."

      "But I'll leave you to fly ships like a suicidal maniac, laserbrain."


      ~*~


      "I would pay serious money to get this kid to stop saying 'no.'"

      Now sitting on the end of the couch, a safe distance between her and both of
      the men, the smell of fermented grain seriously turning her off, Jean
      gestured at the screen. "It's a classic."

      "It's annoying."

      Scott shifted. "It is rather annoying."

      "And I suppose next you'll complain that that generator is waaay too easy to
      hit, huh?"

      Ruby glasses met her brown eyes. "Frankly, yes. I could hit it with my--"

      "Eyes closed?"

      Scott glanced over at Logan, who was serenely prying the label off his
      bottle with a claw. "No."

      "Eyes Wide Shut?"

      "Please, dear, don't remind me of that."

      Logan raised an eyebrow.

      Jean re-crossed her legs and made a strangling sound. "I have telekinesis,
      not precognition, okay?"

      "Clearly."

      "Hey, isn't that a drink?"

      Returning his attention to the screen, Scott nodded. "Two, actually. Down
      the hatch."

      Logan shrugged. "This is easier than I thought."

      Jean smiled. The Ducati was hers soon enough. "Wait 'til the next movie
      before you start assuming."


      ~*~


      The screen, at this point, was getting a little blurry. Two six-packs sat
      empty on the table in front of the company, each holding their current
      bottle in grips of relative surrender. The personal barbs had died down,
      but the mocking of the movies was picking up as the alcohol was settling
      into bloodstreams.

      "'You half witted, scruffy looking, nerf herder!'"

      "'Who's scruffy looking?'"

      Logan blinked and took a swig for good measure. "You two scare me."

      Jean grinned, feeling the pleasant affects of a buzz, the heady sensation
      partially erasing the taste of the beer.

      "Spoilsport."

      "You know it, bub."


      ~*~


      "Can I point something out?"

      Scott looked over with slightly delayed interest. "Yes?"

      "The Falcon needed some serious upkeep."

      There was a sound resembling a "duh." "Amongst other things."

      Logan squinted suddenly and turned a stare at the shiny red glasses. "Your
      jet doesn't do that, right?"

      "Get serious upkeep or break down constantly?"

      Damn his body for not compensating for alcohol as well as it could injury.
      "Break down."

      "Most of the time, no."

      "Good-- I think."


      ~*~


      Logan held up a piece of paper and then pointed at the screen. "'Yoda talks
      like a fortune cookie?'"

      Jean and Scott nodded simultaneously.

      With a suffering sigh, he tipped up the bottle and chugged the last third of
      the contents.


      ~*~


      "'I am your father, Luke.'"

      Jean slouched down deeper in the couch, trying to ignore the really bad
      impression. Sure, the alcohol was making it funnier, but still, Darth Vader
      impressions were best left to someone that wasn't in the same room as her.

      Especially considering it was her fiancé that was currently sounding like a
      yorkie in a wind storm.

      "Of course it's true, you dumb kid, why else would he say it?" Logan
      chucked a bit of popcorn at the figure on the TV.

      Clearing his throat, Scott laughed, ran a hand through his hair and caught
      up on his drink for the lightsabre fight. Standing up, finding the room
      spinning a little bit more than it normally did, he pointed at the bathroom
      off the lounge and smiled. "Be right back."

      Logan waved a hand around after hitting pause on the remote. "Yeah, have
      fun."

      Jean shook her head.

      "Hey Red."

      "Yes?"

      "When I get his bike you're welcome to catch a ride."

      Jean's eyebrows arched up into her hairline.

      "I'll get it. We've got one more movie to go and he can hardly walk. Me, I
      could take on an army right now."

      Surveying his relaxed posture, the jeans covered legs lazily flopped on the
      table, she smiled understandingly. Sure, he stood a chance on winning.

      But they'd both be begging her for aspirin and an end to the hangover misery
      in the morning.

      "And if you don't?"

      "I'll win this bet."

      She shrugged and sipped at her third longneck. It was more than her usual
      amount of imbibe, but it no longer compared to the pair currently running
      through the not-too-shabby number of bottles, many of them now empty, on the
      coffee table.

      "More popcorn, Logan?"

      "Sure."

      "And there's another 'Noooo' coming up, so be ready."

      Logan snorted. "Thanks."


      ~*~


      "It looks like hell."

      "That's probably the point."

      "That ice planet was better than this."

      "Minus the Empire trying to blow them up, of course."

      "At least it didn't have those worm guys."

      "The Hutts?"

      Logan shook his head emphatically. "Yeah."

      Scott nodded hazily. "Ugly things."

      Jean groaned. Apparently a slow crawl into inebriated oblivion could drag
      down the less intoxicated if they were in the same room.

      "Hmm."

      "What?"

      "Was just thinking about what Jean would look like in that metal bikini."

      Logan's mouth curled up in a wry grin. "Very nice, I'd say."

      "Definitely."

      Jean raised a hand, suddenly aware of her being reduced to a sex object.
      "Excuse me?"

      "Not that it'd stay on long."

      "Mm-hmm."

      "Scott..."

      "Huh?"

      Leaning forward and setting the bottle down, Jean smiled and then whacked
      him squarely across the head.

      "Ow! What was that for?!"

      Crossing her arms, she leveled a stare at Logan, who was currently breaking
      up in laughter.

      The room suddenly felt silent, minus the movie going on in the background.

      A few beats later, she pointed at the screen. "Oops, Lando just dodged
      death by the Sarlacc Pit. Take a drink."

      Logan and Scott exchanged nervous glances before obeying Jean's command.


      ~*~


      Using her powers to bring the remote to her hand, feeling a serious need for
      a nap, Jean was about to up the volume when she noticed that neither of her
      companions were stirring, sans the lazy rise and fall of their chests.
      Shaking her head in half-amusement, her eyes drifted to the television as
      the blue ghostie Ben walked out and dispensed his "certain point of view"
      speech.

      Touching Scott's shoulder and getting nothing, she peered at Logan, his head
      lolled back on the couch. "Great, they both passed out."

      Spending a further moment watching the movie, she shrugged, stretched her
      back and laid down on the couch, using the readily available thigh of Scott
      Summers as a pillow.

      The morning would tell who won the bet.


      *~*~*~*~*~*

      TBC in part 3




      Shana,
      dpangel@...
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


      "You actually go outside in these things?"
      "What would you prefer, yellow spandex?" X-Men (the movie)
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