Author: ridesandruns PM
Scott and Logan argue an ageold question.Rated: Fiction M - English - Humor - Cyclops & Wolverine - Words: 1,318 - Reviews: 112 - Favs: 120 - Follows: 12 - Published: 01-09-05 - Status: Complete - id: 2212235
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Bobby, Scott, Logan
Rated R for profanity, snarking
Summary:Scott and Logan argue an age-old question
Disclaimer: Don't own them, am making no money off them, am most definitely not worth suing.
You'd think going on a mission with the X-Men would be cool, Bobby thought, wearily unlocking his door and climbing out of the van. You'd be wrong.
"You just can't admit it, can you, Summers?" Logan growled, getting out of the van and slamming the door shut. "You just can't admit you're wrong."
"No," responded Scott, enunciating slowly and precisely as he slowly and precisely hung the van's keys in their assigned place in the mansion garage, "I just can't admit you're right when it's clear YOU'RE wrong. You are 'remembering' something that NEVER HAPPENED. You just wish it HAD happened. You're projecting your own violent fantasies into an utterly benign situation."
You'd think staking out an anti-mutant group for a couple of days with the guys would be all about male bonding, Bobby mused. You'd think Scott and I would talk about our girls -- no, our WOMEN -- and he'd give me big-brotherly advice. You'd think Logan would soften up and tell me he's glad Rogue and I are in love. Give us his blessing. Well, maybe not that last part. But still . . .
"I remember what happened just fucking fine, One-Eye," Logan snarled as the trio made their way down the hall. "Your problem – aside from the fact that if you ram your head any farther up your ass you're gonna break your visor on the pole that's already up there -- is that you're a Boy Scout who's had everything handed to him on a silver platter. You can't imagine life is anything but one big, sweet dream. You and Chuck and your fucking dream. When terrible things happen, the two of you just block it out and sing 'Kum-ba-yah.' I know about reality, and I'm telling you – I know what happened, and it wasn't pretty!"
"YOUR problem, Missing Link," Scott said in his very best I'm-trying-to-be-patient-because-I-know-you're-a-cretin voice, "is that you see violence as the only solution to any given problem. You think the worst of humans; you can't imagine they'd pass up the opportunity to hurt someone who's different. That's why you're remembering wrong. It's also why I teach mathematics, and you teach gym." He snorted derisively. "A TRAINED APE could teach gym."
"Uh, Scott," Bobby put in, "I really don't think a trained ape could teach gym. At least not here. I mean you've got all our mutations and all -- "
"Fuck you, Summers," Logan snapped. "You just can't stand the idea that I know more about this thing than you do, can you? It just chaps your ass that the kids might see me as the Answer Man instead of you. You'll lie through your goddamn teeth rather than admit you're not an expert on every fucking thing. And you wonder why people call you a dick."
"I'm perfectly willing to acknowledge the breadth and depth of your expertise, Wolverine," Scott said between gritted teeth. "Any time one of the kids wants to know how to steal a motorcycle, hit on someone's fiancée or forgo basic hygiene for weeks on end, I'll direct them to you. Gladly. This discussion is not about those things. Besides, on this particular matter, Bobby agrees with me."
"Whoa, now THERE'S your proof!" Logan said sarcastically. "Your MINI-ME agrees with you! Big fucking shock there! Did Chuck perform the Klingon mind meld on you two? Or is IceBoy just naturally a tightass in training?"
"Uh, Logan, Klingons don't actually do a mind meld," Bobby interrupted nervously. "That's Vulcans, and they only do it when . . ." he trailed off at the distinctly scary red glow that appeared to be close to rupturing Scott's visor.
"Spare us the sage commentary from The World According to Wolverine," Scott snapped. "You just want to believe that every situation ends in violence and bloodshed because that's YOUR solution to everything. There IS another way! Not ALL humans are bad! People CAN be trusted to do the right thing!"
"You're such a goddamn prissy little do-gooder, Scooter," Logan snarled, losing patience as they entered Professor Charles Xavier's office. "Sometimes shit happens! Wise the fuck up, for Christ's sake! If a human's got a weapon, he's gonna use it! Someone's gonna get hurt or killed! Face fucking reality!"
The professor's here, Bobby thought with relief. He'll calm them down. I can stop being BufferBoy and go back to being Iceman. Or just plain Bobby. Whatever. Whoever. Whomever? Whatever.
"Gentlemen," Xavier said, lifting his head from his paperwork. "I was delighted to learn that the anti-mutant group did not pose an immediate threat. I trust your return trip went well?"
"Well?" Logan said with a snort. "WELL?? Just how goddamn tight is your Cerebro helmet, Wheels? Four days," Logan said grimly. "Four days trapped in a van with Wally and the Beav as they yapped about video games and listened to music that sounded like a cat being tortured."
"It was a dream come true for us too," Scott retorted. "Four days trapped in a van that reeked of wet Wolverine – we're going to have to burn these uniforms – listening to Logan sound out words from the map."
Exactly when, Bobby wondered, had Scott become suicidal? And shouldn't the professor know about it? Shouldn't the professor DO something about it?
"A real man doesn't need a map, college boy," Logan said, flexing his hands ominously. "And you might want to watch your mouth or Ice Pop'll be scrubbing your guts out of Chuck's rug."
"Bring it on, old man," Scott said acidly. "I'll just hand you a road atlas and watch your head explode. It's not like you've got enough gray matter to leave a stain."
"Why you uppity little -- " Logan began, stepping toward Scott.
"Uh, guys?" Bobby interrupted, jumping between the men with his hands spread wide in the universal sign for Please-don't-claw-me-or-hit-me-with-an-optic-blast-'cause-I'm-too-young-to-die. "I thought you were going to have Professor X settle the argument? You decided that when you stopped the van on the highway to scream at each other? After arguing about it nonstop FOR FOUR DAYS???"
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Logan snapped. "It's a waste of time. I'm right, Tightass is wrong. End of story."
"You're not right, you're delusional," Scott said in his most condescending tone. "You're embroidering reality to suit your own warped world view. Just because you're a predator, you think everyone else is too."
"Just because you're a candy-ass," Logan said, mimicking Scott's tone, "you think everyone else is too." He continued in his normal voice. "Ask Chuck the question. And don't try any slick college boy double-talk to get him to agree with you. Fuckin' teacher's pet."
"Fine," Scott told Logan icily. "The only reason I'm doing this is because I want to see the look on your troglodytic face when you're told, AGAIN, that you're wrong." He turned to Professor Xavier, who was waiting expectantly, planted both hands on the desk, took a deep breath and asked his question.
"Professor X," Scott demanded, "was there ever a Looney Tunes episode in which Elmer Fudd actually SHOT Bugs Bunny?"