FIC: Promises: Motel California (17/?) Part A

[niceandfluffy2]

Promises: Motel California (17/?)
Author: niceandfluffy
Rating: NC17
Setting: Origins:Wolverine movieverse
Warnings: AU, violence, sexual situations, fighting
Pairing for chapter: Wade/Victor

Summary: The team begin the mission, but Gambit’s plans for sneakiness hit a seriously big snag in the form of Victor

Author’s Note: This fic will increasingly have vaguely “original” characters appearing within it – although these characters are not likely to be exactly the same as official Marvel characters (barring an incredible freak occurrence), they owe their existence to other existing characters and the general Marvel world. Some elements may be borrowed from X-men films, cartoons or comics in an attempt to make the AU blend into the usual Marvel world rather than introducing other familiar faces into the fic.

Previous chapters can be found here



*

Logan hated flying. Hated it with every inch of his being; hated each unpredictable dip and roll, hated each time the engines seem to splutter, and especially hated the steady, feel it in the bone intensity of the plane’s vibrations. The smaller the plane, the worse it got. At least in the larger military style planes the outside could remain outside, but in a small plane there was no escaping the fact you were blowing along like a particularly fat, metallic leaf.

They had put him in the front seat next to Gambit, partly on the hope this might in some way calm him down, and partly in acknowledgement that it was the most sensible choice; Victor’s scowl wouldn’t aid LeBeau’s concentration, and Wade had a nasty tendency to explore what certain buttons did. In fact, Wade was very lucky not to find himself travelling to California wrapped up in duct tape, which Victor had already brought along just in case.

Logan groaned as the plane wobbled and took a better grip on his chair. They had already been flying for far too long.

“We’ll need to stop off several times,” Remy had warned cheerfully. “Fuel. Water. Natural necessities, that sort of thing,”

“Fantastic,” Logan growled softly. Take off and landings were the worst parts, where gravity had a conversation with the body and his ears hurt from pressure. Trying to convince himself they were in a particularly bumpy car was much more difficult when the seat couldn’t work out what angle it was going to stay at. LeBeau had also helpfully provided him with a bucket, which the kid almost got whacked over the head with for his cheekiness.

“What sort of natural necessities can we do?” piped up Wade from the back seat, where he was annoying the hell out of Victor by shifting around every so often. “Are we just talking toiletries, or can we do other things as well? Cause I am really bored.”

“Read a book,” Victor growled back at him.

“Yeah, because that’s going to solve my boredom,” Wade rolled his eyes, then brightened. “Hey, shall we play a game?”

“NO.” The rest of the plane was in agreement.

“Awww, go on. I start to day dream if I don’t do something, and I’ve had that one about the sun cream so much that the people in that are requesting royalty fees.” Wade shifted position again, and found himself slammed back against the chair as Victor calmly shoved his arm across his chest to pin him backwards. Wade continued to speak undeterred. “How about I Spy? I’ll start. I Spy With My Little Eye, something beginning with C…,”

“Claws?” Victor said politely.

“Well, I was going for cockpit, but I guess that works too..,” Wade sighed wearily. “Oh, you’re all so boring! And Vicky, please stop pricking your claws through my shirt. I know you’re there, and I’m not a mouse. Speaking of mice..,”

“He’s a rat, and he’s quite happy in his box,” Victor replied. Logan rolled his eyes. Victor had refused to leave Mr Tiddles behind and the rat was currently sitting in a blanket lined box, where it was munching his way through several crackers. Every so often the rat would stand up on its hind legs, the pointed muzzle sniffing over the top of the box as the beady black eyes surveyed the plane’s interior, before the rat retreated back to its blanketed luxuries.

“I don’t know why you’re bringing it along.” Logan grumbled.

“I’m not planning to go back to that base. My rat stays with me,” Victor readjusted his position, his voice a mild purr that held the slightest suggestion that any objections were likely to meet up with a very vicious response. Logan frowned, and then looked out the window again. When Victor had his mind set on something, it was damned hard to get him off it. And, he guessed, the rat was probably going to be the quietest in the whole damned plane.

“How long to go?” he asked, as he continued studying the clouds. There was a little sigh from their pilot.

“I don’t care how big you lot are. If you keep doing the ‘are we there yet’ thing, then you get dumped out the side,” Gambit replied mildly. “The answer is ‘a long time’, mon ami. Just sit back, relax or at least pretend you’re relaxing, hmm?”

Logan gave him a side glance, and then sank back in the seat as much as he could and tried to focus on something else. The plane shuddered again, causing his stomach to lurch a little more. Logan closed his eyes and tried counting sheep, all of which slowly turned into clouds in his mind’s eye. Bastards.

“We gonna be able to buzz this place?” Victor asked idly from the back as Logan opened his eyes once more irritably. Gambit shook his head.

“Wouldn’t recommend it. Can’t see that they’ll have many planes around this area, and having us circle around them like a particularly magnetic vulture is only gonna make them more suspicious. They could try to shoot us down as well, and that’ll definitely make Logan ruin my upholstery,” Gambit flicked a few switches which seemed to do nothing more than turn on and off a couple of lights. Logan scowled at him again and resisted poking the boy in the thigh with a finger. Victor yawned widely in disinterest.

“Well, what are we doing when we get there?” Wade queried. “We gonna walk around, get a feel for it, or are we gonna go for some food or a drink, or are we all gonna dress up in furry clothing and pretend we’re actually innocent, freakishly large gophers?”

“Wade, leave the fucking gophers alone,” Victor growled.

“I can’t land this plane too close, and there’s fuck all near them so we’ll need to find a motel nearby,” Remy spoke up. “And then probably acquire a car to get back.”

The ferals turned to look at him. Logan could sense Victor’s grin already.

“Motel?”

“I am not sleeping outside unless I really, really need to,” LeBeau replied mildly. Victor’s claws tapped gently.

“You really, really need to,” he advised with a soft, pleasant purr. LeBeau scowled at the clouds in front.

“I dunno, I’m not good with camping either. I keep getting sand everywhere, and I always piss in the wrong bush,” Wade protested. “And then there’s the gophers-,”

“You mention gophers again and I’m going to hang you upside down from the wing,” Victor responded immediately.

“Please don’t.” LeBeau snapped from the front. “Find a different way to punish him rather than inflicting him on my poor plane. Preferably one that doesn’t shift your weight around, okay?”

“Toss him out the door?” Victor suggested thoughtfully.

“That works,”

“Hey!!” Wade folded his arms sulkily. Logan closed his eyes and counted to ten. No wonder Stryker tended to insist on silence when they went on a mission.

“If there’s a motel there, we’ll stay in it. If not, then we stay outside. Everyone clear?” he snarled. “We’re not taking this place tonight, and you,” a finger jabbed into Gambit’s leg to ensure the kid didn’t ‘forget’ the comment was aimed at him. “are not trying any stealth sneak things until you’ve had a good night’s sleep. I ain’t having you trip over wires because you’re too tired.”

LeBeau rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath about ‘wannabe father figures’.

“Hey, I could fly it for a bit,” Wade offered from the back. “I’ve had training.”

“When I’m feeling particular suicidal, I’ll take you up on that,” Gambit replied calmly. “Until that point, stay there unless you want to be tied to the chair,”

“What is it with you and rope anyway?”

“I don’t know. What is it with you and insane ideas?”

“Children!” Logan snapped. The argument halted briefly, and the clouds were scowled at from various windows. Logan sighed internally. This was likely to continue for the whole damned flight, although at least he could rely on Victor to handle Wade if the situation demanded it. His brother’s tolerance was much lower than his own, although his ideas to resolve problems tended to be both loud and permanent.

Logan glared back out at the passing ‘scenery’, if sky could be called that, and tried to ignore the issues that were staring them in the face. They had supplies. They had an escape route. They could vaguely work together, although this would naturally involve some scratches and bruises. And yet everything was about as certain as a ferret in a sewer system.

He closed his hand into a fist and felt the claws itch to break through the skin. The battle would be the same as it always was, he knew. Slash. Punch. Break. Massacre was the word for the day, and Victor did enjoy following that to the letter. Logan growled softly, knowing he would follow Victor’s example a little too easily. Perhaps he was trying too hard to be someone he wasn’t. You had to work to your strengths, regardless of how unpalatable they were.

“We’ll be landing in about half an hour,” LeBeau advised from the front. Logan grunted an acknowledgement and sank even deeper in the mostly uncomfortable, designed-for-smaller-people chair as though he might be able to pretend he was somewhere else. His hand had already curled tighter on the chair, anchoring himself to it, and that gave him a little more security.

Two minutes later and Wade had already begun to sing cheerfully. Logan winced as the lyrics of ‘Don’t worry, be happy’ floated around the cabin, even if they were in tune, and then smiled as the song suddenly stopped dead.

Duct tape was so useful.

*


Night had fallen by the time they had found a place to land. Victor stretched as he stood in the warm air, raising his head and sniffing the various scents that drifted towards him. Deserts. He hated deserts. The wildlife was limited, the dust seemed to get everywhere, and the trees were either spiky or looked like a broom. There was no bounce under his paws when he ran. The only good part of a dusty desert was simply the drainage potential; blood was soaked up well, which beat accidentally stepping in it and then having other people’s scent follow you around.

Of course the pup had managed to find them a motel to land near, which had ruined Victor’s list of evening entertainment tormenting Gambit. LeBeau was clearly not at home anywhere without four walls, and Victor had been looking forward to supply him several paranoias about scorpions and other things of a creepy, painful nature. But no, here they were, looking at a motel that was probably owned by someone called Bates, and had already been abandoned by any self respecting spider. Victor growled to himself as he viewed it. The lights were flickering on and off as though their sole purpose in life was to tease the moths. The main building looked as though it had been a barn at one point in its life, and by the smell coming from one corner Victor wasn’t sure they’d removed all the goats. And then there were the disturbing stains that just raised far too many questions. Victor had seen cleaner badgers.

“This is better than outside?” he grumbled into Logan’s ear as he passed behind him. He could feel his brother’s glare on his shoulders without needing to actually witness it, but that wasn’t anything new. Logan glared at people in the same way that some people collected stamps; after a while, it became a hobby.

Five minutes later and Victor suspected that Logan was coming around to his way of thinking. The motel room was barely better than sleeping outside, other than possessing a ceiling which had more stains on it than Wade’s shirt after eating spaghetti. There were two bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling, one dim and the other dying, but providing enough illumination for them to fully grasp the wretched nature of the room. There were two wide beds pushed against the wall, each dressed with battered and worn linen which weren’t even palatable to moths, and bearing beaten, sagging pillows that were probably as comfortable as the average brick.

Victor prowled further into the room, looking around the cracked walls and the dusty corners dismissively, and then leaned into the bathroom area. He suspected that Logan probably would get stuck in the narrow bath if his brother bothered to wash, and there were scents emerging from the toilet that would probably put off a skunk. Victor sighed through his teeth, and prowled back into the room to sit on the edge of one of the beds. It could be worse. However, it could be better as well. Even Tiddles had taken one sniff and decided that his box provided more comfort.

“So,” Victor drawled, reaching into the box to gently stroke a finger along Tiddles’ back and watching the others idly. “One day here and then attack tomorrow evening? At least we’ll be in the right frame of mind to massacre people.”

Wade had already climbed onto the other bed and was bouncing up and down on it experimentally, accompanied by a series of agonised creaks and squeaks. He laughed in genuine delight, and then flopped back.

“Oh, this is going to be so cool! I feel so dirty and sneaky! It’s like we’re here to get naughty stolen goods, or pick up a couple of cross-dressing prostitutes, or do other things that we’re not supposed to do! Can we get a burger tonight? I really fancy something dripping with grease,” he squirmed in delight, and then flipped over onto his stomach as Logan brushed past the swords that were resting on the nearby table. “And hey, watch out for my babies!”

Victor could tell by the look on Logan’s face that he wasn’t really listening to him. His brother was prowling back and forth like a tiger in a cage, one hand flexing as though the claws were hurting deep within him as the man thought. Victor’s gaze rose to study his baby brother’s eyes thoughtfully. For someone who always tried to go for the simplest, straight forward lifestyle, Logan looked incredibly tense.

Victor sighed to himself. The motel room wasn’t the best choice for Jimmy unless their main aim was to cut half a dozen holes in the wall. Shutting an annoyed predator in a small box was just asking for problems.

“Jimmy,” Victor spoke softly, and smiled toothily as Logan’s eyes found his own. “You wanna go get the food? You look like you could do with a walk.”

“Hey, can I go too?” Wade looked at him brightly. Logan groaned, and not particularly softly.

“No.”

“Why not? I’ve been stuck in .. well, I’ve been stuck everywhere recently. You name it, I’ve been stuck in it. Cages, beds, planes, rooms, bins, corridors, even a toilet before I kicked out the door. So pleeeeease can I go get the burgers with you?” Wade pushed himself up to kneel and give Logan a beseeching look that probably would have looked better on a collie dog that was after a squeaky toy. Logan eyed him for a moment, and then looked at Victor helplessly.

“He does need a walk,” Victor allowed. “And I’ll only strangle him if he’s left here,”

Wade stepped up the collie impression with a few choice, over the top, whimpers.

“Oh, for god’s sake…,” Logan shook his head, and then growled and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Fine. I’ll take the car,”

“We haven’t got a car,” Wade frowned. Logan smiled at him, and allowed his claws to unsheathe.

“Trust me,” he growled. “The car ain’t gonna be a problem,”

Victor was regretting not going with them less than ten minutes after they had left. The motel was not only crap, it was boring as well. He hadn’t brought any reading material, there was nothing alcoholic to drink, the walls were dodgy enough that he couldn’t carve anything in them without breaking through to the next room, and even Tiddles had already gone to sleep. Of course that still left his original source of amusement, but LeBeau had claimed the bathroom and still hadn’t returned from what Victor had assumed would be a long soak. The boy seemed obsessed with cleanliness, as though soap was a protective barrier in its own right.

Five minutes later, he was bored enough to interrupt this little perfumed ritual. The door lock didn’t last past one kick, although it was soon clear that his amusement was destined to be prolonged. Victor frowned as he walked into the blatantly empty bathroom, looking up at the ceiling and then thoughtfully at the open window. He had always known LeBeau was a tricky bastard, but even Victor hadn’t been expecting this level of unnecessary sneakiness.

He shrugged to himself and strolled back to the main room and the door leading outside, shutting it behind it and making his way to the rear where the bathroom window would lead. There was no point in trying to follow the pup through his own exit route, after all; he didn’t need to hide his actions, it would be seriously undignified and there was a reasonable risk that his much bulkier form would only get stuck half way through. Victor located the window easily and sniffed, swiftly finding the scent he needed. Well, well. Victor’s grin widened. He bet he knew where the boy was heading. He also bet that whatever transport the kid had obtained was going to be better than Victor’s natural ability.

The run did him good; he could feel his body loosening as he ran on his paws, clearing the distance easily as he followed the tracks into the hills and skipping the roads for short cuts. Every so often he picked up the scent of Gambit plus oil, which suggested that the motorbike Victor had noted when they had arrived had been the vehicle ‘borrowed’ for whatever personal mission LeBeau had decided to do. The moon was almost completely absent which gave the darkness a thicker quality, but Victor’s night vision had kicked in swiftly enough to give him a little more grasp of where he was going.

The run was also giving him a good picture of what they were going to have to fight on. The landscape was unforgiving; the cover was incredibly poor, and the road surface was hard and uncompromising. Little pieces of rock got stuck in him every so often, which made him limp for a few paces before his body violently rejected the rocky intruder. Victor scowled as he ran. All in all, this was the type of base he really tried to avoid unless it was a swift in and out job.

The scent grew stronger; Victor slowed and pushed himself up to his feet, sniffing thoughtfully.

“Here, puppy,” he murmured softly, his eyes gleaming with the possibility of the hunt. Whatever Gambit thought he was doing, he was going to find that slipping out the back was a really bad idea. Perhaps his duct tape was going to be necessary once again.

Victor came across the motorbike first, having been carefully placed away from the main road and hidden behind one of the few natural lumps the landscape offered. He ran his finger across the soft leather seat idly as he sniffed for the next direction.

There.

Victor smiled to himself as he turned to stalk after the scent that Gambit had so kindly left for him. The pup had stopped heading directly to the base, instead choosing a route which seemed to go parallel to the base as though there was some large line drawn on the floor that said ‘do not cross’. Victor’s smile turned rueful as he followed the track as accurately as he could. LeBeau tended not to do anything randomly, and the last thing Victor needed to do was stand on anything explosive. It took him far too long to find his boots afterwards.

It didn’t take long before he found what he was after.

“You followed me,” came the soft, accented drawl that held more than its fair share of accusation. Victor shrugged slightly as he came to a halt, slowly assessing the pup in front of him for signs of equipment. Nothing. Whatever Gambit was planning, a frontal assault hadn’t been part of it.

“Wasn’t I supposed to?” Victor purred back. “Bad me.”

“You were supposed to stay at the motel,” the accusation found a few extra friends for the ride.

“Bad me again.” Victor’s teeth glinted in the light. He gave a little careless nod toward the base, where only a few lights were visible from the main external buildings. “Scouting mission, hmm?”

“Oui. It is hard to scout when you have Wade on your side,” LeBeau slid from the rock and landed delicately next to Victor with the softest of impacts. “Are you going to insist on going back?”

“Depends. Are you going to sneak out late at night again?”

“Depends,” the word conveyed the wariness in Gambit’s voice.

“Then no. I’m not a dog. Playing fetch isn’t something on my To Do list, unless it looks amusing,” Victor replied dryly. Gambit snorted softly in the darkness.

“And yet you’re here,”

“Curiosity. Cats have phrases dedicated to the subject, remember?” Victor gently cuffed the pup around the head, although not as hard as he would have liked; the last thing he needed was concussion to add to the list of problems. “What exactly are you-,”

And then suddenly something wasn’t quite right with the universe at large, and he wasn’t sure why. Victor trailed off and raised his head, sniffing at the air to allow his senses time to work out what the fuck was going on. The pup, to his credit, knew when to shut up. Victor prowled forward a few more paces, sniffing again. A strange scent… almost familiar… and yet he couldn’t quite pin down where it was coming from. He wasn’t even certain it was a person, not quite.

“Can you see anyone?” Victor asked in a low voice, scanning the surrounding area suspiciously.

“No. But den my sight is limited in this darkness,” Gambit’s voice was a mere murmur on the wind. “What is it?”

Victor took another few steps forward, frowning harder. A good question, and one he still couldn’t answer. He growled softly, hating his vulnerability. Knowledge was power, and power should clearly belong to him. He raised his head and sniffed once more; the scent was delicate, floating on the breeze, but seemingly from multiple directions. It seemed … he shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and then took another step forward. The scent managed to get stronger and yet still failed to give him a better lead, the tantalising smell surrounding him, and all but embracing him; Victor felt his mouth begin to salivate without reason and rubbed at his head with one hand angrily.

“You’re pawing at your head,” LeBeau’s suspicious voice cut through the confusion. Victor shook his head and scowled back at the kid irritably.

“Just look around,” he snarled softly, but privately he recognised that his body was beginning to feel strange, tingling almost. His legs ached to run and the rest of him seemed to believe this was a damned good idea. Victor snarled and even that felt strange, the promise of violence without any real aggression behind it. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, but each time he tried to seize an emotion it slipped away from his metaphorical mental fingers. Strange. Everything was strange, and yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

Victor raised one hand and looked at his claws curiously. Wade was right. They probably would look better in purple-

A hand suddenly punched him hard enough in the jaw that Victor had to take a step back, looking incredulously at the boy who had dared raise a hand to him. Far from being repentant, LeBeau simply seized his jaw and forced him to stay still, scanning his eyes with such intensity that Victor wasn’t sure if the boy was planning to kiss him as well.

Finally there was a little snort, and Gambit dropped his hold.

“Drugs. They’ve set off something,” he said softly. “And sorry for the punch. I thought if anything was going to snap you out of it, it would be something a little more violent than a poke in the ribs,”

Victor scowled again. The assessment might be valid but that was still no reason for the pup to think he could slap and run.

“And they’re not affecting you? This smell?” he waved his hand in the air just in case this illustrated his point in a more effective manner. Gambit gave him a look that suggested that Victor had just mentioned green coloured flying hamsters.

“Smell?” he repeated.

“Smell.” Victor growled. “Soft, perfumey, spicy but .. not. All over the place. You can’t smell that?”

Gambit shook his head and paused to sniff, then shrugged once more.

“Nothing. Barely any scent.” LeBeau replied, then paused to survey him again. “You’re pawing your head again,”

Victor stopped himself and scowled. This was ridiculous. His body tingled all over, determined to do something, but he couldn’t quite work out what that something was. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be particularly violent; at worst Victor had a suspicion he was going to roll on the ground and go to sleep. He growled softly, and even that seemed difficult. Fuck. Had he been this tired when he got off the plane?

“And you don’t feel anything,” Victor growled back, almost an accusation.

“Nothing.”

“Fuck,” Victor found a piece of cloth and put it over his nose and mouth in the vague hope it might help, glaring around him. This was not going to be the greatest position to fight anyone in. There was a little chuckle from behind him, and Victor suddenly found what appeared to be a scarf tied around his face. Fantastic. If drugs weren’t bad enough, now he had fashion thrust upon him.

“Dere. You look like a bandit now,” Gambit chuckled softly, then shrugged as Victor looked at him. “S’not much, but at least you have your hands free, oui?”

Victor gave a curt nod, and then raised his head again. Without his sense of smell he felt strangely vulnerable, knowing he was unable to get his usual early warning, but that wasn’t something he was about to admit to the kid. He grunted again, and then began to prowl forward once more in an attempt to get his body’s attention away from the scent and back onto the things he wanted it to focus on. The tingling was still inside him, burning a hole through his nerves, and it was so damned difficult to concentrate-

“Stop,” hissed LeBeau urgently from behind him. “Don’t go past-!”

Victor’s foot stopped mid-stride but apparently mid-stride wasn’t soon enough; there was a clicking noise that seemed to echo throughout the plains, swift, loud and sharp, before silence returned once more to reclaim the desert.

“Tell me that was a very loud cricket,” Victor murmured, his claws slowly extending. Gambit swore as his hand moved to his belt automatically for his non-existent weapon, scanning the space around them carefully as though their enemies were going to be polite enough to knock before they invaded. There was a strange whispering noise that seemed to start and stop again, almost as though the desert was breathing heavily, and that wasn’t an encouraging sound. Finally Victor felt his body ignore the scent and begin to focus on the danger that surrounded him. It was a welcome sensation, but one he really could have done with a few minutes earlier.

“We have to get out of here,” Gambit hissed, stepping back. Victor scowled but slowly withdrew without complaint, still scanning the darkness for signs of anything that he could tear to pieces. The whispering seemed to get louder, a vibration that brought with it disturbing possibilities, and their tactical withdrawal increased in speed. LeBeau began to run, his footsteps soft on the ground as he made his way back to the bike; or at least where the bike had been, anyway. Only a wheel remained, buckled and bent.

Gambit crouched on the ground, touching the wheel uncertainly.

“Oh, dis ain’t good,” he murmured, remaining on the ground as he looked around. Victor dropped to the ground next to him in agreement; the landscape was pretty damned flat as it was, and having them stand up was more of a beacon than he wanted to think about. Ultimately they were fucked, as Wade would say.

The whispering continued, surrounding them in its quiet yet menacing way; it seemed to get closer and closer with each moment that passed, and then paused as though regaining its breath. LeBeau edged closer to the rock and squinted out.

“I saw a few of the profiles for the mutants who were referred to this base and never returned,” he said in a soft murmur. “Those people dey were interested in.”

Gambit’s faintly glowing eyes turned to glance at Victor, before they returned to their scouting mission. “Speed. Electricity. Mental abilities. They wanted some missiles but there wasn’t anyone who had the right ability.”

“And you didn’t say anything about this before because…?” Victor growled softly, but the scent was still playing merry havoc with his mood and he couldn’t quite get the tone that promised disembowelling.

“Because.” LeBeau hissed, which apparently was an answer in Gambit’s book. Victor growled softly and assessed their surroundings again. Still nothing visible but that didn’t mean anything, and a sneaking, low to the ground escape seemed unlikely; the dirt track that had led to the base was long and wouldn’t give them any type of cover at all, and cross country was just as bad. It was also unlikely that LeBeau would be able to run fast enough to get away, short of shoving a rocket up his ass and pointing him in the right direction. Victor knew he himself could probably make it, but Jimmy was likely to be furious they had gone as it was without abandoning his boyfriend to the wolves.

The superfast, electric based wolves, at that.

Victor thought about that, and smiled slowly with a gleam in his eye. He always did like a challenge. Okay, normally he preferred a challenge on his own terms, but sometimes you just had to go with the flow.

“You get your ass down the road,” he murmured. “I’ll keep them off you.”

“Dat’s your plan?” Gambit snorted. “You can’t even breathe without a scarf getting involved! What happens when dat scarf comes off? You rolling around on the ground, pawing your head and wriggling?”

Victor stared at him in bemusement, uncertain where wriggling came into it. LeBeau waved a hand carelessly.

“I worked out why the scent’s familiar. Catnip.”

“Catnip?” Victor was outraged by the suggestion. “I’m not fucking affected by catnip!”

“Apparently dey’ve altered it so that you are. And if dey know you’re here and what works for you…,” Gambit looked back at him then sighed. “Well, I’ll let your own paranoia finish that sentence. Ultimately you’ll be on the floor quicker than Wade eats a pizza,”

“Great,” Victor grunted softly, his claws raking against the floor in irritation. The whispers in the night started up again, creeping closer and closer. Victor closed his eyes, standing up and focusing on the noise and the movement as he sensed the figure gradually approach their position. ‘They’ knew where they were. The time for hiding was probably over, and hiding was never his forte anyway. Lurking, fine. Hiding, no.

Of course this was only his own opinion. From the sudden tiny squeak behind him, Gambit clearly was in the ‘hiding’ camp.

“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” he hissed.

“Getting some space,” Victor flexed his fingers and straightened his back. He scanned the surroundings but there was still absolutely nothing in front of him, not that this was particularly surprising. It was too dark, and the other man... woman… whatever was too fast. His eyes would only betray him.

Victor stepped out from the cover into open space; there was no point in tripping over the only fucking rock for miles, after all. Victor growled softly, and then closed his eyes and concentrated. The whisper was silent for a moment, and then steadily began to increase. Victor’s growl dropped into silent vibration in his throat, focusing intently on the hidden enemy.

Closer… closer…

His claws struck out at throat height, not bothering to grab but to rip the damn thing out; they sliced through something, but Victor already knew it wasn’t what he had been aiming for and that meant-

-shit!-

Victor dodged backwards just as something whizzed past him so quickly that for a moment he thought it had missed him entirely. The blood began to trickle down his chest from the deep cut as he rolled, seeing LeBeau’s missiles shoot over his body but with no comforting impact. Forcing himself up, Victor turned and snarled but still couldn’t see a fucking thing. Even the whispering had stopped, which fucked up his main method of locating their enemy. All in all, he was not feeling chirpy.

Gambit prowled closer to him, holding onto a metal pipe the length of Victor’s forearm which he appeared to have gleaned from the local landscape and looked suspiciously as though it had originally graced the motorbike. The metal twirled in Gambit’s hands for a moment as he scanned the empty landscape.

“We need to get out of here.” The words were hissed and yet they were still tainted with LeBeau’s accent.

“Noted.” Victor growled back. “Any suggestions?”

There was the smallest of pauses before LeBeau slowly shook his head. “Diversions only work if you can make a speedy escape. If this guy is conscious and able to follow us, we’re not going t’be able to make enough distance to make a difference. And we’re not going t’see him coming,”

“Fun,” Victor bared his teeth at the darkness, and slowly began to edge backwards. LeBeau was swift to follow, keeping pace with Victor as his gaze swept the landscape as they made their defensive withdrawal. There was silence. Too much silence. It was probably too much to hope that the enemy had retreated back to the base now they had been shooed off, and sure enough there was the telltale whispering of an approaching attack all too soon.

“Watch o-,”

He didn’t even manage to get to the second word. Gambit was quick off the mark, immediately leaping into a somersault almost as soon as Victor spoke, but Victor heard the pained gasp that suggested that the leap hadn’t quite been quick enough; LeBeau landed but stumbled, one knee striking the ground hard and opening himself up for attack. Victor grinned and pounced, aiming for the vulnerable empty spot to the pup’s side and praying that their enemy had taken the unintentional bait. They had. He felt the satisfying impact of his body striking another, his claws finding their mark instantly but seeming to buckle against an unforgiving substance. Victor frowned before he found himself kicked off, rolling away and panting for a moment as he tried to work out where their enemy was. Armour. Fucking marvellous. However, it wasn’t all bad news; Victor raised his hand to his mouth and licked once.

Blood, and not his own. Victor’s mouth twitched upwards in satisfaction. One clawing down, several to go.

But possibly not now.

He pushed himself up and seized hold of LeBeau’s arm, pulling him a few steps toward the road.

“Run,” he hissed, resisting the urge to fall to his paws himself. The much slower Gambit would only be picked off from the rear if he did, which granted was probably the story of the pup’s life. However, he had to hope that the blow he had landed would give them a few minutes breathing space, and if that was the case then they damn well had to seize the moment. Annoyingly, the pup wasn’t assisting. LeBeau seemed to be hanging back, which resulted in Victor’s hand on his shoulder in a firm, propelling shove forwards.

“Do what you’re best at and save your own ass,” he snarled, then turned to face the darkness. Or at least as much of the darkness as he could, anyway; in this area, he could easily be attacked on pretty much any side they cared to name. He wouldn’t even be surprised about a gopher attack anymore.

Fucking Wade! Now he was thinking about the damned gophers.

LeBeau snarled again, unhappy about the orders but finally taking his advice; he began to head toward the road at a fast run, Victor following behind a little slower. The clawing appeared to have made its mark; the whispering hadn’t started up again after the blow had struck, and Victor remembered the feeling of the metal giving slightly under the power of his hand. Even if the claws hadn’t dug into skin, the impact should have at least caused the mutant’s body to have a few aches and pains that would be difficult to ignore.

Difficult to ignore, but not impossible. There hadn’t been any gratifying snap of bone, and the road was a long way away. Victor picked up speed, dropping down to all fours and easily catching up with Gambit as they sought their escape. He was beginning to respond easier now the scent of heavy-duty catnip was dying away, and slowly he was able to sniff out things that the base had clearly not wanted them to know.

Male. Mature. A strange scent of fruit. And directly behind them.

Victor skidded to a halt and turned, his claws extended and his body lowered, a snarl aiming into the darkness as though this might in some way intimidate them. Incredibly LeBeau was also stopping as well.

“C’mon!!” his voice was urgent.

“Fucking move!!” Victor snarled back. Typical. When you needed the kid to be his usual slippery bastard self, he decided to be temperamental over it all. Victor almost jumped as LeBeau left his parting attack, a blaze of missiles aimed in the direction that the enemy was approaching in. For a moment, just for a moment, Victor could see the outline of a shadowy figure making its way towards them before the night reclaimed its hold. Victor smiled slowly. Slim, around Wade’s height and weight, but without any distinct form. It might be only a small amount of information, but every little helped.

His claws were ready, but the whispering seemed to be getting a chorus. Victor raised his head at a sudden vibration that throbbed through the night, but it wasn’t coming from the direction of the base. Victor grinned wolfishly to himself as he recognised the scent, recovering a little more of his equilibrium.

“Jimmy,” he purred softly. His brother might be here, but Victor suspected that it wouldn’t be soon enough; his body lowered again for the attack Victor knew was coming, his claws ready and waiting for his enemy to show his face and get it ripped off-

“Hey-!”

The word was sudden, loud, and right next to his ear. Startled, Victor reacted automatically, his immediately slamming his claws hard into the chest of the man who suddenly appeared to his side. Wade’s voice suddenly cut off, staggering backwards for a step before he coughed in what was a remarkably sulky manner.

“Nice to see you too,” he croaked.

“Wade, for fuck’s sake-!” Victor’s snarl stopped dead as a blow connected from the enemy he thought he had been fighting, landing hard enough to shove him backwards and skid for a significant distance with what felt like a massive hole in his chest. Victor gasped, unable to move for a moment until his healing factor started to kick in; looking up, he suddenly discovered an offered hand to help him up. That was a novel experience in itself.

“Wade’s got him covered.” Gambit murmured. “C’mon, hurry up,”

Victor winced and slowly pushed himself up, ignoring the Cajun’s hand and coughing as he looked back at the dark area where Speed was meeting up with Fucking Irritating Teleportation. Wade was doing his own little commentary as he fought.

“Can’t you get me? I’m right here,” There was the familiar popping sound that normally accompanied Wade’s teleportation. “.. did I say there? No. I’m here,” Pop! “Or possibly over here.” Pop! “Oh! Too slow. I’m sorry, I suffer from premature teleportation, it’s an absolute bastard-,” Pop! “Thank you for flying Air Wade, the exits are here,” Pop! “Here,” Pop! “And here, please do not bite the stewardesses, they don’t like it-,”

Victor snorted softly and slowly began to trot toward the car, feeling his strength gradually return to him and sensing Gambit following behind him. Clearly LeBeau had been looking for cover and had worked out the best form of cover was Victor himself. Sneaky but understandable.

The car turned out to be a battered pick up truck which had seen enough action by itself. Logan glared at him as Victor yanked open the door and settled into the front seat, then hit the gas; Victor could see Gambit curl in the back as they skidded around and headed back to the road with Logan’s foot firmly on the floor, the wheels sending out a spray of dust as they made their escape. A sudden extra weight at the back stated that Air-Wade had landed, which was another weight off Victor’s mind.

It seemed that they had escaped, or at least from the people in the base. Escaping from angry members of their own team, however, was another matter. Victor lounged back against the chair and gave his brother a side glance as they tore along the dusty track; oh yeah, that was not a happy look, but then Logan seemed to specialise in scowling nowadays.

Victor grinned to himself and turned his attention back outside. And there was him worrying about a dull evening. How wrong he had been.

*

“What the hell did you think you were doing?!”

“Hopscotch,” Victor replied idly from where he was lounging carelessly on the bed. Logan ignored him. It would take more than a telling off to get the ‘couldn’t care less’ expression off his brother’s face, and if Victor had wanted to go off by himself then he would have simply done it in front of them. No, waiting for them to leave and then slipping out the back was not Victor’s style, which meant that LeBeau had more than his fair share of influence in this situation.

The boy had an unreadable expression on his face as Logan paced back and forth, which never boded well. It wasn’t helped by the fact their argument was being watched by Wade, who was sitting cross-legged on the other bed sucking now stone-cold takeaway fries from his fingers. Every so often there was a little burst of humming from the bed of a classical tune, normally accompanied by a soggy fry which was attempting to conduct it.

Logan growled and turned his attention back onto his disobedient lover. He could smell Gambit’s caution, but then caution to Gambit was pretty damn standard, whether the man was attacking an army base or taking out a library book. There was another soft growl of utter frustration. Was a little bit of repentance too much to ask for?

“Well?” Logan snapped, a little louder. Of course the volume did nothing; LeBeau merely continued to watch him, although he adjusted his posture. It wasn’t until Logan took an aggressive step towards him that the Cajun even began to consider answering.

“Surveillance,” he said finally, grudgingly.

“That was surveillance?” Logan growled. “And you couldn’t have told us before you left?”

A delicate shrug greeted this question. “I needed to go alone.”

“He failed on going alone,” Victor supplied from the bed. “Surveillance was pretty poor as well, thinking about it,”

“If you hadn’t walked through their defences-,” Gambit began steadily.

“The scent was released before I did that,” Victor returned, just as steadily. “And if somebody had warned us that the defences were there in the first place-,”

“Enough!” Logan snapped, running his hand through his hair as he paced back and forth. “I expect this sort of idiocy from Wade, not from you two!”

“I love you too, fuzzikins,” Wade commented through a mouthful of fries. Logan ignored him, focusing on LeBeau’s eyes as he tried to work out in his own mind what the hell had happened. The fact that Gambit was quite happy to go off on his own was disturbing, but the man clearly wasn’t that bothered about being found out either. This whole conversation was more of an irritation rather than panic, which suggested that LeBeau was quite happy with the actions he did and the justification behind them. Perhaps he was a little too much of a lone wolf after all.

“What else aren’t you telling us?” Logan growled, and finally began to see a glimmer of caginess added to Gambit’s usual expression. Each little movement and shift in his eyes spoke volumes when it came to LeBeau, which confirmed there was definitely more than Remy was planning to tell them. Logan’s teeth grated together; within seconds the kid was grasped roughly by the collar and thrust against the wall with enough strength that a grunt was forced from the young man’s lungs. They eyed each other from inches away, Logan’s hands tightening in the other man’s clothing.

“What else?” he snarled. “If I find you’ve betrayed me, I swear to God I’ll break your-”

“Mutants,” Victor yawned from the bed. “He knew about what sort of mutants they were likely to have,”

There was another little shift of LeBeau’s eyes that stated that the youngster really hadn’t wanted that to be spoken aloud. Logan growled louder and tightened his grip to the point where the clothing was beginning to become tight against Gambit’s neck. He shook him once.

“Well?” he demanded. “Spit it out.”

“I don’t know anything.” LeBeau’s accent was heavy in his words, a sure sign of the man’s tension. “Just figured a few things out, oui?”

“And figuring those things out meant you had to creep out the back window and go see the base?” Logan snarled. “What did you figure out?”

“The mutants dat vanished,” Gambit panted. “Stands t’reason dey’d still be dere in some form, n’cest pas?”

Logan ran that through his mind once again, having to translate it again in his head. LeBeau’s agitation was slowly making his words thicker and the accent more pronounced, which didn’t help his understanding. He grunted and released the collar slightly, purposefully giving the boy more oxygen to lessen his tension. After a few deeper breaths, Remy was ready to continue.

“Dey can use speed and electricity. Dey were looking for missile weapons, but may not have found it yet. If these are the same mutants, then they’ve been there for years.” Gambit scanned Logan’s eyes, his voice growing softer. “They’re trained, good at their work.”

“And fucking irritating,” Victor added from the bed. “Oh, and they’re wearing armour my claws were having problems penetrating. Sounds like healing factor never got on the menu. Speaking of healing factor, anyone checked his leg? I’m not going on an assault with a lame kid hopping along beside me,”

“You mean other than the claw marks you put in it?” Logan snapped back.

“Yep,” Victor’s voice was smug. LeBeau shifted again, the discomfort showing in his eyes. Logan knew there wasn’t any blood by the smell, but then there was more than one way to cripple a cat.

“There’s nothing wrong with my le-OW, FUCK!!” Gambit’s eyes closed as he raised his head, biting his lip to stop himself swearing anymore. Logan watched him idly.

“If you want to continue this fantasy, I can punch it again, see how you do,” he advised it.

“Dat won’t be necessary,” Gambit ground out. Logan nodded in satisfaction.

“Good. Take ‘em off.” He stepped back to allow this to happen. LeBeau scowled after him, and then looked at the other two who were watching in interest from the beds. Logan snorted.

“They’ve seen it all before, in more ways than one. Stop finding new excuses,” his metal claws extended slowly, a promise to what would happen to the trousers if they weren’t removed ASAP. Remy took the hint. Slim hands unfastened his belt, a scowl aiming itself at Logan before Gambit pulled down one side of the trousers as though he might need modesty. Logan raised an eyebrow, and then tugged on the belt again.

“Completely off, bub. I ain’t having you shield something I should know about.” Logan snorted softly. “Again.”

The look in Gambit’s eye was pure murder but the pants hit the floor with a little jangle. Logan didn’t even want to think what was in the pockets, but his attention was already distracted by the view, and also the fact that a large black bruise was blossoming on one of the kid’s thighs. Logan prodded it with a finger and was rewarded by a little wince.

“Hmph.” Logan grunted. “Must have hit you hard for that,”

“He did. It was like a pinball machine,” Victor was still watching from the bed. “And don’t give me that look, I was the one who saved your kiddo from getting squished immediately afterwards,”

“How well can you walk on it?” Logan gently examined the muscle, testing what received an automatic reaction and what didn’t. LeBeau sighed impatiently.

“I am fine.” he protested. “OUCH! Could you please stop doing dat?!”

“Still fine?” Logan raised an eyebrow. LeBeau opened his mouth to retort, and then hesitated as Logan’s finger raised itself for another violent poke. Finally Remy shook his head in defeat.

“It is .. sore,” he allowed. “But I can walk on it. It just has a small weakness. Insignificant, non?”

“Depends how much activity we’re planning to do,” Wade commented cheerfully. “Cause I can just see this all getting messy quickly. And I mean fucking quickly, that bloke was just .. well, it’s like getting road runner and then strapping him to a massive rocket and greasing his feet as well. I wonder whether he’s the same in bed? Blink and it’s over. The only guy to come five times in a second. Whoa, that would be a sperm flood, that would.”

“Wade, please stop thinking. Or at least shut your mouth when you do so,” Logan growled softly, looking back at Remy. “So what else do you know about this mutant you crashed into?”

“He wears a really macho aftershave. Honestly, it’s so aggressive it’ll start pumping weights by itself,” Wade offered. Logan sent another vicious glare back at Wade which went completely unnoticed, then aimed the glare back at Remy once more.

“I don’t know anything more,” Remy growled sulkily. Logan pressed him a little harder against the wall.

“Okay, then let’s focus on how you got the information in the first place, hmm?” their eyes were barely inches apart. “Keep talking,”

The shifty expression turned up again. “I only-,”

Logan shoved him against the wall even harder. Gambit’s eyes narrowed, a briefly sulky expression entering his eyes as he fell silent. Finally there was another irritated sigh.

“I read a lot of files. The rest is purely guesswork and logical thinking. Nothing more,” LeBeau glared sideways at Victor as though the feral was in some way responsible for his predicament, before looking back at Logan steadily. The file answer. Again. For some reason they seemed to be Remy’s personal ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ card, although Logan couldn’t quite bring himself to care about his lover’s bookworm habit.

Logan growled and dropped his hold, stepping back and beginning to pace back and forth whilst he thought. LeBeau watched him carefully, readjusting his clothing as best he could before taking up a nonchalant position against the wall.

“These files were at the base, yes?” Logan eyed him. LeBeau nodded.

“I found the details on the mutants who had been transferred, then pulled what information I could find on them.” Remy replied, with another side glance at Victor. “Nothing ‘sneaky’.”

“Kid, you could take a piss in a sneaky way,” Victor commented, leaning across and claiming a chicken bucket by hooking his claw through the wall and pulling it towards him.

“For all this fucking ‘sneakiness’, our enemies now know we’re here and are getting themselves prepared,” Logan slammed a fist into a wall, producing a sizeable hole and a little puff of plaster dust.

“Hey, I can sort out Road Runner,” Wade piped up from the bed. “A bit of glue, a sea of bonding power and he’ll stick to it so suddenly that he’ll probably rip off at the ankles and go flying across the landscape. And won’t that be exciting? Oooh, I’m getting tingly just thinking about it!”

“Okay. Other than Road Runner, who else are we likely to crash into?” Logan decided to tackle it a different way, giving Gambit another glare. A weary sigh greeted that.

“I don’t know.”

“Guess.”

LeBeau drummed his fingers on his arm, looking down at the floor for a moment as he thought. Finally he looked up again, meeting Logan’s gaze steadily.

“Some sort of electrical charge.”

“What, they want you to pay as well?” Wade asked. “Well, that’s not fair. If you get electrocuted, you shouldn’t get a bill as well. Okay, okay, stop snarling at me, Logan. I’ll eat my chicken in peace. Or pieces, anyway, it’s a bit difficult to suck it off the bone,”

Logan turned the scowl back onto Gambit. “What sort of electrical charge? Like a lightning strike? Missiles? Mechanical manipulation? I ain’t going into this blind if I don’t have to.”

Gambit’s expression didn’t alter, although the air of frustration increased. “I told you, I don’t know, mon ami. They wanted a weapon. There’s been no one with projectile missiles, so might be area effect instead. Not likely to be mechanical or electrical control, that’s not really aggressive unless you get lucky on where someone’s standing,”

“Mechanical control like Bradley’s ability?” Logan asked after a pause. Gambit shrugged.

“Yeah, pretty much. And anyway…,” Remy’s voice trailed off as he suddenly realised he had put his foot in it. Three pairs of eyes slowly looked at him thoughtfully; even Wade lowered his chicken piece.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know about Bradley’s ability?” he murmured. “Far as I can tell, he left the team well before you got your little ass to the Island, hmm?”

Victor snorted from behind him. “You know he’s going to say ‘files’. Unless we give him some more encouragement…?” his voice trailed off into a dangerous, hungry purr. Gambit’s eyes slid to the side warily before returning to study Logan.

“Mon ami, Team X’s details were all in the files.” he said urgently, his gaze turning into what probably was supposed to be a puppy dog look.

“God, those files know everything,” Wade commented. “I bet they even know what dream I had last night, and how many pairs of fishnet stockings I have. Oooh, and-,”

“You really going to believe him with his file answer?” Victor drawled, interrupting the cross-dressing muse. He snorted softly. “You’re even more trusting than I thought. He’s got this all planned,”

“Who the hell plans to confess everything whilst having their trousers round their ankles?” Wade protested. “Well, other than me, but I don’t really count.”

“Can I pull those back up?” Remy queried.

“No,” the chorus was immediate. LeBeau’s eyes rolled but didn’t request it again, which at least was something. Logan began to pace back and forth again, watching the way that Gambit studied him in such a calculating manner whilst still pretending he was a nice, innocent kid. Logan snorted to himself. Clearly he didn’t attract the nice, innocent anythings in this world.

“Why were you out there?” Logan asked finally. LeBeau’s eyes narrowed again.

“I have told you. I was scouting things out.” Gambit replied in frustration. “They attacked me as well as Victor. Even if I was there for other reasons, it is clearly not the base’s side.” His voice softened as Logan’s eyes narrowed again. “Please, mon ami. I am not your enemy,”

“He’s not our friend either,” Victor pointed out idly. LeBeau glared at him.

“And you are? How many times have you attacked your brother? Wade’s injuries were a result of you-,”

“Victor,” Logan snarled as his brother’s eyes narrowed in anger, leaning forward to attack. He stopped in front of the younger man, cupping his chin in his hand and knowing the kid was toying with thoughts of whether to run or stay. Victor had a point with his street rat comparison.

“Pull your pants back up, kid,” he growled softly, stepping back. “Let’s work out what the hell we’re doing.”

“Tomorrow we get out there and kick some randomly armoured ass!” Wade waved a fry in what was presumably a violent if soggy manner. “And that’s ass as in backside rather than donkey, ‘cause donkeys really don’t have the grrr factor I need!”

“And we’re doing it at dusk,” Victor added grumpily. “I’ll be fucked if I’m messing around in the dark again.”

“It’s a whole series of caves. Isn’t the dark kinda connected to that?” Wade looked at him in interest. “Or are we all gonna pretend to be bats?”

Logan folded his arms and watched as Gambit refastened his belt and made his way to a different wall with the same air of sulky defiance.

“They’ve got a shit ton of money invested in this place. Can’t see ‘em not affording a few light bulbs,” he prowled back and looked at Victor. “What d’you make of it?”

Victor shrugged carelessly, tossing a chicken bone into the corner of the room. “They’ll see us coming. They’ll probably sense us coming as well. I say fuck stealth and go in there with tooth and claw. You never know what they’re capable of until you get in there and shake them by the hand,”

Logan grunted. The concept definitely had some appeal. He could sense Gambit’s disapproval already, but the kid had fouled up and therefore his vote was void. Wade began to juggle food.

“I’m all up for that.” he commented cheerfully. “They’re gonna have a fuck of a job trying to stop all of us, and we can knock anyone down.”

Logan glanced across at LeBeau who was still sullenly silent in the corner. He could read the unhappiness in the boy’s body posture, although he was very careful to hide it from his expression. Logan growled softly and looked back at the others. Remy had ruined his own reputation when he had decided to go on little missions by himself. Until Logan was satisfied the boy was working for their benefit, his input was going to be purely informational.

“Okay.” he said finally. “We’ll aim to go tomorrow evening. No one do anything stupid in the meantime,”

“Awww, fuck. That makes my evening really boring,” Wade sulked, tossed some fries into his mouth and then began to suck the grease from his fingers. “Can I do something vaguely stupid but not suicidal?”

“Since when have you required permission for anything” Victor grunted from the corner. Wade considered that, and then grinned back at him and teleported from one bed to the other in order to snuggle up to the feral.

“Good point, my little fuzzy squirrel. Hey, can I have a mouthful of that chicken?”

Victor growled, low and pointed. Wade sulked briefly, then wrapped his arm around the other man’s shoulder and began to nuzzle him with the expression of a child who had just found a much loved lost soft toy. Victor sighed wearily, ripped off a piece of chicken in irritation and thrust it under Wade’s nose.

“Thanks!” Wade immediately dropped his snuggling mode in order to munch through the chicken. He looked up at Logan, then at LeBeau. “So are you two gonna kiss and makeup?”

“For your entertainment?” Logan growled.

“Sure, why not. Hey, if Gambit can top that would be fantastic, cause it’s always fun watching something unnatural happen in front of your eyes-OW..,” Wade winced as Victor calmly belted him around the back of the head. “Okay, okay, I don’t care who goes on top. C’mon, we’ve got the whole evening doing nothing! If that doesn’t scream orgy, I don’t know what does,”

Logan grimaced and walked to one of the battered chairs, swinging his leg over it and settling down. The concept of an orgy was not something he was currently in the mood for. Of course a lack of enthusiasm had never stopped Wade before, and wasn’t working now.

“Now, I know what you’re all thinking-,”

“Shut up?” Victor suggested with a low, dangerous growl. Wade pondered.

“Nah, not that. No, you’re all thinking that orgies are out of fashion at the moment, right? But you’re wrong, oh yes, you’re very wrong. Orgies are actually important health related exercise and team building.” Wade waggled a grease smeared finger. “It’s incredible what sort of bonds you can form with that,”

“Large, metal, unbreakable ones stuck to the wall?” Gambit suggested moodily. “And gags?”

“Okay, disgraced kiddies not allowed to join in,” Wade’s finger waggled again, before he finished his chicken and draped himself over Victor’s shoulders again. Logan watched his brother’s expression flicker, but the feral remained still. He was half reminded of an adult lion allowing a cub to clamber over him and begin chewing his ear. Logan grunted softly.

“No orgies,” he said, just in case anyone was contemplating the suggestion. Wade sagged.

“Awwww, please!! I mean, we’re almost there, aren’t we? Everyone’s slept with everyone else, just not exactly at the same time. We just need to coordinate.” Wade waved his hands around as though he was directing a dance show.

Logan growled softly and gave Victor a pointed look. His brother eyed him back, then rolled his eyes and gripped Wade firmly by the throat. The younger man suddenly found himself pinned against the bed with his throat in what was nearly a death grip, which at least made him shut up for a few seconds. Logan picked up a shirt which had been draped over a chair and ripped it into strips, calmly looping one over Wade’s mouth and tying the gag firmly.

“You know this gag is more symbolic than anything?” Wade managed. “There’s gaps in it-,”

“Use those gaps and we all find out how long it takes for you to regrow testicles,” Logan replied steadily. Wade’s eyes narrowed, followed by a very sulky silence. Logan waited for a few moments, but nothing further emerged. “Good. So unless anyone else has anything to add, we’re all going for a quiet night. Understand?”

There was silence, which he assumed was vague agreement. The fact that the night didn’t resemble anything like quiet was purely down to fate.

Possibly.

*

To Part B