Not Again

On closer inspection I have to admit that the damage Kitty did to the X-Van was extremely superficial, but I still feel justified in my earlier lecturing of the kid. So it was just a tiny dent and a bit of scraped paint on the passenger side door this time, but if she doesn't start driving more responsibly the next time could be much worse.

Shaking off those thoughts, I move around the garage to get the few supplies I need to straighten out the indentation and fix the scratched paint.

The sound of approaching feet causes my head to whip around to see who's coming and I stiffen at the sight of Smith stalking toward me. Cautiously I look behind the blonde for Aquilla, relaxing only a bit when I see the younger girl absent.

"'Ro snagged her for a meeting," Tabitha explains Magma's absence as if sensing the direction of my thoughts. "I wasn't invited."

I give her my standard "didn't ask, don't care" kind of growl and move back to the van to begin work on the repairs.

"So, how bad is it?" I stiffen again as the blonde makes her way over to my side and invades my personal space as she leans forward to inspect the damage. "Where's the big boo-boo Kitty did?"

With a noncommittal growl I inch a safe distance away from her and gesture toward the area in question. She bends closer to the vehicle and stares intently at the door.

"This?" she touches the area of scratched paint and gives me an incredulous look. "You went off on her 'cause of this?"

"I did not 'go off on her,'" I grind out with a narrowing of my eyes at the accusation.

"Sure you didn't," she patronizes before stepping aside for me to get to work. "Need any help?"

"I think I can manage," I respond with a bit of sarcasm as I quickly and efficiently straighten out the dent with the tools I'd gathered.

"Just thought I'd offer," she states while climbing up to sit on the hood of the van.

"Get down from there," I growl the instant I see her shoes thumping against the paintjob.

"Overreact much?" she rolls her blue eyes at me but obeys and hops back down to the ground.

"Shouldn't you be doing homework or something?" I ask impatiently as she goes to leaning against the vehicle just inches from me and intently watches as I try to work.

"Nope," she smiles innocently, "it's Friday. That junk can wait until Sunday night."

Resisting the urge to lecture her on that careless attitude I decide to ignore her and just finish up my task. With that in mind I pick up the can of black spray paint, shake it up and aim it at the scratches.

"Shouldn't you crack a window or something first?" Smith asks, shifting toward me as if to study the can in my hand. "Paint fumes are dangerous aren't they? Don't they rot brain cells or something?"

"Feel free to leave if you're worried," I growl at the interruption.

"I'm not worried, but if I get all woozy and pass out you better catch me before I fall and hit my head on something in here."

Not liking the sound of that one bit I move to crack open a window to make sure the place is properly ventilated since she apparently isn't leaving. Grumbling under my breath I stalk back to the van, aim the spray can again and start to cover the damaged paint.

"So, what was it like kissing Magma?" the blonde asks mischievously.

I should have been expecting it, considering how this kid likes to go out of her way to get a reaction from me, but I hadn't. I'd been so worried about Aquilla tagging along for a repeat performance of her unexpected tongue tango that I hadn't thought about the trouble this one'd be likely to stir up.

Being as I was unprepared for her to broach the subject as she did, it was really no wonder my hand painting the scratch jerked sharply upward in surprise and inadvertently marked the passenger side window of the van with a long black line.

"Whoopsie," Smith chuckles as I quickly take my finger off the nozzle to stop the flow of paint, but the damage has been done. "Not your smoothest move, big guy. Am I making you nervous?" she asks coyly, moving to press herself against me for a split second before I jump away. "Chill, I'm not gonna bite," she smirks at my reaction and leans back against the van while I remain a safe distance away and watch her wearily for the slightest move in my direction. "Unless you're into that kinda thing."

"Look, kid," I begin with a groan at the gleam in her eyes, "what I'm 'into' is none of your concern, but I assure ya if you're doin' it I ain't gonna be 'into' it. Not," I groan again at the genuine hurt that touches her expression at that and I get to thinking about how damned sensitive girls are and how you gotta reject 'em just right or else they'll be scarred against men for the rest of their lives, "that you're unattractive. You're just too young. Way too young."

"I'm almost two years older than Amara and just five minutes ago you were letting her ride ya like a cowgirl in the foyer!"

"I was not 'lettin' her ride me like a cowgirl' or anything else! She's took me by surprise," I defend indignantly.

"Oh, really? That's all it takes? The element of surprise gets anyone a Logan liplock?"

Logan liplock?

I blink at that phrase then blink again as I recognize her preparing to pounce as Pryde and Aquilla had before her.

"What tha hell do you think you're doin'?" I ask her as my hands grab onto her shoulders and keep her at arms length while she began to pout at being stop short of her objective.

"Nothing," she attempts to push forward despite my restraining hold and glares at me when she fails. "Why can't those muscles just be for show?" she groans, mostly to herself, before giving up and turning away. "You can relax, Badger, I'm not gonna jump ya."

"Why tha hell were you tryin' to?" I keep both eyes locked on her, not believing this sudden mind change for a second. "What tha hell is goin' on around here today?!"

"I dunno, what's going on?" she gives me an innocent look then turns to study the black line I painted on the window because of her. "You probably should've removed this before it dried," she touches the line and pulls her fingers back to wave them at me, showing their lack of paint on them.

"I can still get it off," I don't spare the van so much as a single glance.

"I bet you've got all kinds of tricks up those short sleeves to get things off," she drawls in a blatant sexual innuendo that I am very not comfortable with.

"Smith, I think maybe you should go back inside now."

"Why? Am I bothering you?" she takes a casual stride in my direction and I move back about ten steps to keep a healthy distance between us. "Man, you're jumpy aren't you," she smiles wickedly, advances a few steps then laughs as I retreat even further. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were actually afraid of me. That couldn't be, though, could it?" my back comes up against a wall and I begin edging to the left toward the door as she continues to slowly stalk me. "The infamous Wolverine isn't really trying to run away from lil ol' me, is he?" she suddenly lunges forward and blocks my exit, forcing me to backtrack quickly to the right.

"Look, kid, I don't know what you're up to and I really don't wanna. I'm a lil old to be playin' this kinda game with ya, so just step aside and forget about whatever's going on in that head of yours," I tell her calmly, slowly working my way to the garage door opener to free up that escape route.

"Oh, relax," she stops, puts her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes at me. "I'm not plotting some diabolical scheme … at this particular moment," she tacks on quietly after a thoughtful moment. "I just wanna know what it's like and the others won't tell me so I've got to find out for myself."




"Not that I really mind," she continues as confusion furrows my brow at her words. "I mean, hey, despite your unknown advanced age, you really are hunky. The hair, the muscles, that sexy growling thing you do … yeah, that's the one," she smiles happily when a frustrated growl rumbles through my chest. "The whole black leather and biker thing is waaaay hot and you've got this caring side we sometimes get to see that makes a gal all swoony imagining you as a dashing hero who swoops in when she's in trouble, squashes the bad guys like irritating little bugs then wraps her up in those strong, bulging arms and oh so tenderly makes sure she was unharmed by the heathens."

Any hope of me understanding a word she was saying flew out the window as soon as she said the word 'swoony' – is that even a word? – and I absently lift a hand to scratch at the back of my head.

"What?" I finally demand.

"I've read a few romance novels," she divulges with a slight blush, "those things just get in your head and start a gal thinking all kinds of funky stuff. Not that I seriously think that way about you … often," she begins to fidget under my increasingly puzzled gaze and I'm coming to the conclusion that this is either some kind of Candid Camera shtick or I'm in a Twilight Zone … possibly Bizzaro World. "I mean, it's natural for a maturing hormonal girl surrounded by incredibly good looking men that she's in no way related to to wonder in passing a time or two what those guys are like in certain situations that may not always be appropriate, but it's just fantasy and there's no harm in thinking," she takes a breath and I continue to just stare at her as all she's saying adds up to a big much of nothing in my head like she's speaking a foreign language and, at moments like this, I really do think teenaged girl is a foreign language no grown man is meant to ever decipher. "Acting on impulses is what leads to trouble, like you keep telling me. So all this thinking I've done or not done about you really doesn't matter until I go and do something like this."

She has me so distracted with her babbling that I've dropped my guard and, like I teach these kids for battle situations, Smith saw the opening and took the opportunity to make her move.

For the third time in this seemingly endless day I find my body unexpectedly assaulted by an X-Girl.

This one pushes my against a workbench, the obstacle catching me at the back of the knees and knocking me off balance until I'm forced to sit down on it. Before I can get my brain to think of evasive maneuvers or anything other than a bewildered 'Not again' she's grinning all over herself in satisfaction at my position then climbing up to straddle me with way too much ease and skill for a girl her age.

"I fibbed about the biting," she whispers in my ear as she settles atop me and digs her fingers in my hair to pull my head back.

The meaning of those words doesn't even have a chance to sink in before her teeth nip sharply at my lower lip. I open my mouth in surprise at the sting, but my exclamation of outrage was silenced by her red lips smashing down on mine. Having had more than enough of these shenanigans to last me a life time I snap the opening closed when her tongue breaches the line of my teeth. Unfortunately, my reactions were a bit too late and only served to capture the wriggling organ in my mouth.

She makes a rather happy little sound in her throat at that, curling the tip of her tongue up over the backs of the teeth holding it, and begins stroking her fingers through my hair rather than just using them to keep my head angled back for her onslaught. Her head starts twisting from side to side, finding ways to increase the depth and friction of the kiss, until I finally recover the sense to lift my hands to grab hold of her shoulders. Instead of forcing her away the instant they touch her, though, my fingers freeze as her tongue starts doing this thing in my mouth that I don't think I've ever felt before in my entire life.

After a delay I'll forever kick myself for allowing I pry her off, pushing her away and scrambling to my feet without much concern for the fact that I literally dumped the girl on her butt.

"So that's what the hubbub's about," she says a bit oddly while raking a hand through her hair, apparently uncaring of her position on the garage floor.

A great many things spin around in my head, waiting to be said to make it clear this never should have happened and never will again.

So you can imagine my surprise when this question is the first thing that comes out, "What tha hell was that thing you did in my mouth?"

"Liked that, did ya?" she grins up at me and slowly licks her lips. "Called a 'tongue tornado' and," my eyes widen in horror as she leers her way up and down my body, "the mouth isn't the only place I can do it."

Jesus Christ, I need a vacation, I think as I walk quickly from the garage without responding to that line.


A/N: Sooo sorry for taking longer than I promised in getting this chapter up. I'm all distracted again, so not sure when I'll get the next one up, which will be Ororo's talk with Amara. Then it'll be Rogue's chappie. Please be patient for those updates, though.