Disclaimer: We don't own Logan or Victor (although we wish we did.) Vicious Creed belongs to GambitGirl, so hands off! "Please Remember Me" is Tim McGraw.

Rating: R for strong sexual content, violence and language.  If you don't have a strong stomach, go elsewhere.

Summary: Sequel to 'Leather and Lace'.  Read that first if you want to have the remotest idea what's going on.

Author's Note: Another gender-swapped story, this time from Sabretooth's point of view.

Feedback and Archiving: addie_logan@yahoo.com

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Memories Remain

By: Addie Logan & GambitGirl

*** *** ***

When all our tears have reached the sea
Part of you will live in me
Way down deep inside my heart
The days keep coming without fail
A new wind is gonna find your sail
That's where your journey starts

You'll find better love
Strong as it ever was
Deep as the river runs
Warm as the morning sun
Please remember me

Just like the waves down by the shore
We're gonna keep on coming back for more
Cause we don't ever wanna stop
Out in this brave new world you seek
Oh, the valleys and the peaks
And I can see you on the top

You'll find better love
Strong as it ever was
Deep as the river runs
Warm as the morning sun
Please remember me

Remember me when you're out walkin'
When the snow falls high outside your door
Or Late at night when you're not sleepin'
And light falls across your floor
When I can't hurt you anymore

You'll find better love
Strong as it ever was
Deep as the river runs
Warm as the morning sun
Please remember me

*** *** ***

Victor Creed looked down beside him at his infant son sleeping in the crook of Logan's arm. He reached across the bed, smoothing down the small, unruly tuff of hair that was beginning to grow on Vicious's hair. "He kinda looks like you, runt. He's got yer eyes."

"Thank God. Wouldn't want the poor kid to look like you."

Victor smirked. "Sure, that's the way ya feel. It's why you could never keep yer hands off of me."

Logan rolled her eyes.  "Oh please. I managed to keep my hands off for you for a good twenty-five years."

"What fantasy world are you livin' in? You couldn't keep yer little paws off me fer a month."

"What the fuck are you babbling on about?"

"Don't ya remember Berlin?"

"Yeah. It was full of KGB agents—and cold."

Victor leered. "And I kept ya warm, sweetheart."

"You are such a pervert. And a deluded one at that."  She got out of bed, careful not to wake Vicious.  "I'm going to put him down."

"Hurry back, babe," he grinned at her.  Logan rolled her eyes and went to tuck Vicious into his crib.  When she returned Victor was reclining under the blankets, considerably more undressed than when she'd left.  He patted the spot beside him wordlessly. 

"Victor, what did you mean about Berlin?"  He cocked his head.

"You really don't remember?"  Logan sighed as she slipped out of her nightclothes and crawled under the covers next to him.

"Honey, my memory has more holes than Mr. Sinister's plots to take over the world." 

"Good point," Victor agreed.  He slipped his arms around her waist and held her close.  "Well, suffice to say we were a little more than partners on that particular mission."  Logan twisted to look at him.

"Wait a minute—are you saying…?"  He grinned widely.

"Yep."  Logan sat up. 

"But I thought the mansion…"  Victor stopped smiling quite so widely. 

"Well, babe, you didn't bring it up so I figured you didn't remember or didn't care."  Logan frowned at him.

"That bit of information might have been useful, dear."  Victor shrugged.

"What information?  That we fucked each other's brains out a few times?  Logan, it wasn't a big deal.  It wasn't anything compared to what we have now."  He reached over to stroke her bare shoulder.  Logan pulled away.

"You let me think that this was the first time we were…together."  Victor heaved a sigh.

"It is, Logan.  We're together.  As in a…you know.  Relationship type thing."  Logan continued to glare. 

"What happened in Berlin, Victor?" 

"It won't change anything, Logan."

"You better tell me before I start slicing parts off, Creed."  He finally sat up as well, his angry look mimicking Logan's.

"Well if you gotta know, it was the first time I fell in love with you, an' you yanked out my heart and spit on it."  Logan's expression softened.

"I don't remember."

"I know."

"I think you should enlighten me." 

"It's a long story, babe."  Logan lay back again, pulling him down with her.

"We've got all night.  Tell me."  Victor sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Okay, babe.  Here goes…"

Late 1960s

Victor could hear Wolverine yelling at Wraith in the other room. Apparently she didn't want to be teamed up with him.  Well it wasn't like he wanted to be teamed up with her either. This was a serious mission. He needed real back-up, not some frail. Nice tits didn't make you competent.

Wolverine stormed out of Wraith's office, glaring at Victor. "Looks like I'm stuck with you," she said, her voice almost a growl.

Victor smirked at her. "What, you afraid you won't be able ta keep yer hands off me once we're alone?"

"Fuck you."

"Sounds good to me. Here, or ya wanna go find a bed?"

Wolverine tossed her hands up in the air, and Victor smirked. "Nice ass ya got there, frail!" he called after her down the all, smirking at the way she froze then grumbled as she continued her storming off.

The jungle was dense, heavy and hot.  Victor felt the sweat rolling down his body and growled lightly.  He didn't like his senses being muffled like this.  And he was annoyed no end by how easily Wolverine slipped through the undergrowth.  In certain situations, there was something to be said for being a foot shorter than Victor was.  She stopped and looked back at him, an irritated look on her face.

"Are you coming or what, Sabretooth?"  He slashed a tangle of vines aside with his talons. 

"You just worry about watching my back once the action starts, frail."  Logan adjusted her pack.

"You are such a misogynist pig."  Sabretooth chuckled.

"Thanks."  She rolled her eyes and went on.  Victor decided she'd be sort of pretty if she stopped looking so pissed off all the time.  But he was enjoying the fine view he got of her ass as they trekked through the untamed forest.  She looked back at him again and he smiled broadly, dropping her a wink.  She turned without a word and kept walking.

"So here's how it's gonna work," Victor said as he and Wolverine crouched in the shadows surveying their target, a small compound made up of tents and Quonset huts appropriated from the US Army.  An American black market weapons dealer was inside one of the huts.  Victor was assigned to kill him.  "I'll go in quiet-like and do the guy."  Wolverine looked at him patiently.


"And you sit your pretty little self out here in case anything goes wrong.  Wouldn't want you to chip yer nails."  Victor chuckled, but was surprised to find his breath choked out of him when Wolverine wrapped a surprisingly strong hand around his throat.

"Listen, buster," she snarled at him, "I put up with enough of the macho crap during WWII, so do yourself a favor and cut the shit before I take it into my head to really damage you."  She released him with a push back.  Victor was unsure whether to gut her then and there to teach her a little respect, or burst out laughing. 

"Yer a little feistier than ya let on, frail."

"You better believe it."  She dropped her pack and unslung her rifle.  "So what's the plan now?" 

"Same thing," said Victor with a grin, and slipped off towards the compound before she could object. 

Sabretooth stood over the dead body, licking the blood off his claws. There was nothing like a good killing to make his night complete. Well, maybe except one other thing. Maybe the scrawny broad put out despite her feminist mantras.

He froze, the sound of machine gun fire breaking the night silence. "Fuck," Victor muttered, his reveling in bloodlust cut short. "Better go protect the frail," he mumbled, wishing Wraith had sent him with real back up instead of some woman he had to baby-sit.

Victor kicked open the door of the hut, but was blown back by a hail of machine gun fire.  He went down, hundreds of bullets ripping his skin and vital organs to shreds.  "Fuck," he moaned as his face met the dirt.  The compound was swarming with at least fifteen armed guards, and the ones that didn't have guns were heading for the hills.  The fire stopped as the guards decided they had most likely killed him. 

He smelled one approach him, felt the gun barrel pressed against his already fractured skull.  Victor growled as well as he could with blood and tissue filling his lungs.  This might be the end—his healing factor couldn't overcome this many rounds in so short a time. 

He heard the shot, heard the scream and felt warm, fresh blood splattering his face.  The body of his executioner dropped beside him with a neat small caliber bullet hole between his eyes.  The rest of the guards opened fire again, and through the blood running in his eyes Victor saw Wolverine hunkered down behind a pile of crates, neatly picking off the men with her Beretta.  She was a good shot, but her little gun didn't hold enough to finish all the men.  When she stopped firing to reload, they rushed the crate and dragged her out, pulling her to her feet by her hair.

Victor sighed, his vision swimming slowly towards black.  His first job with a woman and things went totally FUBAR.  Wasn't that just fucking typical. 

Before his eyes closed, however, he saw Wolverine lash out at her captors with a speed her small frame belied.  She wasn't as big or as strong as the smallest guard, but she was efficient, and deadly.  Soon no man except one still had his weapon, and most were dead or dying.  The one who still had his weapon was backing up slowly, his eyes on Wolverine.

He had forgotten all about Victor.  His wounds in a reasonable state of recovery, Victor hauled himself to his feet, grabbed the man by the throat and snapped his neck with an economical motion.  The man crumpled in the dirt. 

Wolverine bent down to retrieve her pistol, reloading it and slipping it back into her waistband.  She had broad splatters of blood across the front of her tank top, and Victor noticed several healing bullet wounds in her chest and shoulders.  She winced as the shells dropped to the ground.

"You okay?" she asked him.  Victor managed a smile, even though he was still in a large amount of pain.


"Good.  They'll be sending reinforcements any second, so let's move."  She shouldered her pack and slipped back into the jungle, Victor following behind her.

Victor watched as Wolverine hiked through the jungle as they went towards where they were supposed to meet Wraith and be extracted. She sliced through the thick branches with a knife, her small but taut muscles flexing with every stroke. Victor smirked. "You know, you don't have ta play Amazon Princess to impress me."

Wolverine continued her hacking. "I'm not doing this to impress you. I got sick of getting hit in the face with branches."

"I hate ta tell ya this, frail, but the gun fight already smeared your make-up."

Wolverine stopped, spinning around with the knife level with Victor's throat. "Just shut up. I've been doin' this sorta shit since you were in diapers, so just back off, bub."

Victor had to admit, she really was hot when she was bloody and pissed off. "Whatever, frail. Just try not to fall in a hole or something. I'd hate to have to explain why I left you behind."

"If I don't push you into a hole first, you annoying son of a bitch."

"Aw, would ya rescue me again?" he asked, his expression the most psychotic version of puppy dog eyes Wolverine had ever seen.

"I wasn't saving you. I was saving me."

Victor leaned in close enough for Wolverine to feel the warmth of Victor's breath. "Sure ya were, frail. I think ya just couldn't stand the thought of lettin' me die before you knew what it was like to fuck me."

Wolverine's jaw fell, his bluntness taking her by surprise. "I…um…no…"

Victor leaned closer, his lips almost touching hers, but then dipped his head, breathing in her scent. "Ya smell good, frail. Real damn good."

Wolverine backed up, her knife in front of her. "We have to meet Wraith," she said, her voice weak.

Victor shrugged. "Okay." He walked passed her.  "You comin' or not?"

Wolverine blinked, trying to digest what had just transpired. She shook her head and walked after Sabretooth. 

Team X Barracks

"I want to congratulate you both," said Wraith.  "You proved that Team X will be an asset in the future." 

"Yeah, give me a medal," said Victor, turning to leave.  Wolverine sighed.

"Do you have a problem?" asked Wraith.  Wolverine made a face.

"Yeah.  A big, hulking blond problem."  Wraith crossed his arms.

"Your profiles indicate you and Sabretooth are compatible in a combat situation."  Wolverine muttered something under her breath.  "What was that?" Wraith inquired. 

"Nothing," Wolverine snapped.

"Your personal feelings for Sabretooth do not enter into this," said Wraith.  "Learn to deal with him or leave my outfit."  Wolverine started to say something, but he turned away from her.  "You're dismissed."

Victor entered the firing range in the basement of the Team X compound with his favorite gun and several extra clips.  He noticed with annoyance that the skinny woman was already there, pumping shots into a paper target with fierce concentration.  She stopped firing and turned to glare at him.

"What are you doing here?"

Victor loaded his weapon.  "Whaddaya think?"  Wolverine made a face as if she'd just stepped in road kill. 

"Then I'm leaving." 

"You don't like me much, do ya frail?"  Wolverine snorted. 

"What on earth gave you that idea?"  Victor stepped in front of her cubicle, blocking her way to the door.

"I'm not such a bad guy once ya get to know me."  She raised an eyebrow.

"Really."  He smiled down at her, making sure to show off his fangs.

"Really.  As a matter of fact, I'll bet I'm the best you'll ever have."  Wolverine gave him a too-sweet smile.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to wonder about that for the rest of my life."  Her expression turned angry.  "Now get out of my way." 

"Or what?" Victor said, moving closer. 

"Or I'll kick you in the balls, Sabretooth."  Victor moved.  He was pretty sure she meant it. 

Victor smirked as he saw Wolverine attempting to sneak out of her room. She was wearing a nice peasant blouse that fell off her shoulders and a pair of tight jeans. He raised his eyebrow. She was hot when she dressed like a woman. "Where ya goin', frail?" Wolverine jumped a little, and Victor laughed. "I thought you had better chops than that," he said with a grin.

"Go away," Wolverine snapped. "I'm busy."

"So why are ya all dolled up? Got a hot date?"   

"If you must know, I'm meeting Silver Fox for drinks."

"Oooh…drinks. How rebellious of the two of you. Ya think you'll let 'im hold yer hand?"

Wolverine rolled her eyes, walking past Victor. He reached out, grabbing her hand. "Come on, babe. Wouldn't you rather spend yer night with a real man?"

Wolverine wrenched her arm away. "I hope your not referring to yourself, because in my experience it's been the men with the biggest mouth who have the smallest, well…" She looked down and smirked.

Victor narrowed his eyes. "Yer walkin' a fine line with that one, girlie."

"Did I hit a nerve, Sabretooth?"

Victor grabbed her by the front of her shirt, pulling her up to eye level with him. She squirmed, but found the position hard to move in. "Look, frail, I'm more man than you've ever had." He dropped her. "You probably couldn't even handle me."

"Right. You keep telling yourself that, punk."

Sabretooth raised an eyebrow. He ruffled her hair. "Go have fun on yer little date, babe. Play nice with the boys." He walked off down the hall.

"I hate you!" Wolverine yelled down the hall. Sabretooth's laugh echoed as he kept walking.


Wolverine paced back and forth in the safe house, flexing her hands. Victor, who was lying on one of the small twin beds, opened one eye. "Could ya knock that off? I wanna get my beauty sleep before we gotta go hunt that guy down."

Wolverine glared at him. "Shut up." She kept pacing.

Victor propped himself up on his elbow. "What's wrong with you anyway? Constant PMS or somethin'?"

"I'm fine."

"Yer always so bitchy." Victor frowned. "Why are you so mean to me? It really hurts my feelings, y'know. I don't mean to be such a bastard, it's just, well, I have a hard time, socializin'. I've had a hard life…"

Wolverine stopped, her expression softening. "Really?"

"Nah. I'm just messin' with ya."

"You have to be the biggest asshole I have ever met."

"You've said that one before, frail."

"Yeah, well it's still true."

Victor closed his eyes. "Wake me up when it's time to go."

Wolverine looked over at Sabretooth. Her eyes traveled over his chest, the stretched material of his white tank top outlining his every muscle. She sniffed, his scent hitting her with a force. She moved closer, unable to take her eyes off him. He looked peaceful when he was sleeping, his features handsome when they weren't marred by a sardonic grin. Suddenly, she felt his hand clamp her wrist, and she was swept off her feet as he pulled her down on top of him.

"Like what you see, darlin'?"

Wolverine gaped. "I…I…"

Sabretooth smirked and pushed her off, letting her roll to the floor with a thump. "Nah. I'm not yer type."

Wolverine grabbed one of his boots from beside the bed and stood up, throwing it at his head. "Ow!" Victor exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot. "That hurt, bitch."

"Good." Wolverine went back to her pacing, and Victor went back to sleep. She had to keep moving. Kept her distracted.

Much later than night, Victor and Wolverine were on the roof of a townhouse in a quiet suburb of Prague.  "Will ya hurry up?" Victor hissed at her through his ski mask.  "This is takin' too long!"

"Keep your pants on, Sabretooth," Wolverine hissed back.  She cursed as she tried to break the lock on the skylight of the townhouse.  "He's got it wired." 

"Fuck," Victor muttered.  "Can you get around it?"

"I'm trying," said Wolverine.  "Give me your knife."  Victor reached into his boot and handed her the long, gleaming blade.  She slipped it under the window frame and wiggled it for a few seconds. 

"Here goes nothing," she muttered as the skylight swung open.  There was perfect silence, only a few dogs barking disturbing the soft moonlit night.  Wolverine let out a sigh of relief.  Victor chuckled.

"Is your little heart goin' pitter-patter, frail?" 

"Shut up," she muttered as she dropped through the skylight, Victor following her.  He had to admit, she certainly wasn't incompetent when it came to covert operations, although you'd never guess it by looking at her.  He tapped her on shoulder and motioned to the downstairs area.  She nodded and moved off to check for guards.

Victor quietly opened their target's bedroom door, creeping towards the sleeping man.  He didn't know who the man was or what had made him a target of Team X, and he didn't really care.  Victor had no illusions about why he was always the one on the wetwork missions.  He liked killing, he was good at it, and it was a hell of a lot more interesting that the pussy little microfilm exchanges Silver Fox always seemed to be involved in.

The man stirred in his bed, alerted to Victor's presence.  Victor moved across the room and clapped a hand over his mouth before he could cry out.  A by the book killer would simply close off his nose and mouth and let the target squirm until he suffocated, but Victor never put much stock in the quick and easy methods of assassination.  He pulled the man in to a sitting position, letting him see the face of his executioner. 

The target didn't look particularly frightened of him—that should have been Victor's first clue.  Everyone was afraid of death, when it came right down to it.  The only reason for the guy not to be shitting his pants was that he had an ace in the hole. 

It was a small-caliber gun, something that wouldn't even make a dent in Victor from a few feet away, but the target swept it out from under his pillow and plugged Victor in the eye before he could react.  Crimson hot pain spread through his skull and he stumbled back, screaming, dark blood running from between his fingers.  The target jumped from the bed and made a break for it, not bothering to see if Victor was finished or not.

Victor was already stumbling after him when he heard a sharp cry from the hall and then a thud.  He saw Wolverine straightened up from over the target's body holding his knife.  It was bloody, and the man's throat was slashed open.  Victor blinked his one good eye.  Wolverine looked up at him.

"You okay?"  He laughed once.

"Haven't we played this scene before, runt?"  Her eyes narrowed.

"That looks nasty."

"Yeah, doesn't feel nice either." 

Wolverine took a step towards him.  "Are you sure you don't need to get that looked at?"  The flattened bullet popped out of his wound and clattered to the floor.  Victor stifled a growl as the wound started to close.

"I'm peachy.  Let's get the hell out of here."  Wolverine nodded and moved down the stairs.  Victor went after her.  "Hey, Wolverine."


"Thanks for backing me up."

"Saving your ass, you mean."  Victor snorted.

"If ya wanna get all bigheaded about it, frail.  How'd ya know I was in trouble, anyway?" 

"You mean besides the screaming?" Wolverine said sardonically.  "I smelled the cordite.  And the blood."  She opened the front door of the townhouse and looked out into the street.  "Clear."

Victor stripped off his mask and black sweater and sweatpants, rolling them into a bloody ball.  Wolverine did the same, revealing bell-bottomed jeans and a tight top beneath it.  Victor straightened out his own street clothes and stepped out into the street, the cold night air making his breath mist. 

Wolverine shivered and he slung an arm around her shoulders.  She didn't push him off, and he looked down at her.  "Isn't this about where you call me a perverted asshole?"  She smiled for a second. 

"Not this time.  I'm freezing."

"You know, Wolvie, we make a pretty good team."


"Don't cheapen the moment, frail."  He could tell she was trying not to laugh.

"Okay, Sabretooth."

"So do we?"

"Make a good team?"  She paused.  "Yeah.  We do." 

He squeezed her shoulders once.  "Let's get you back to the safehouse and get you warmed up."

"Don't get any ideas, bub."

"Aww, what gives you that idea?"

"You really want me to answer that?"  Sabretooth didn't, so he just kept walking into her through the barely lit streets.

Team X Compound
Six months later

Victor grinned down at Logan, who was pinned beneath him. "Gotcha, runt."

"Hardly," Logan snapped, wrapping her legs around his waist and flipping him over. She reached up, pinning his arms above his head. "Now I got you, big guy."

Victor smiled. In the months since he'd gotten to know Logan and not just Wolverine, he'd discovered how wrong his earlier assumptions of her had been. She was competent. And beautiful. And the best damn sparring partner he'd ever had.

"Uncle," Victor said with a smirk. His eyes darted down to her white tank top. "You don't have ta get up if ya don't want to."

Logan pushed off him, rolling her eyes. "Pervert."

Victor got up and lunged at her as she turned around, pinning her stomach to the floor. Logan grunted. "You gave up, Creed."

"I lied," Victor said. "Besides, didn't anyone ever tell ya not to turn yer back on yer enemy?"

Logan shifted suddenly, her leg making contact with his groin. Sabretooth yelled, rolling off her. "Dammit, woman, that hurt!"

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to underestimate your prey?"


Logan winked. "Hey, I have to get going. I'm supposed to meet Silver Fox later, and I want to get cleaned up. See ya around, Vic."

Victor frowned, trying to push away the homicidal urges that rose to the surface at the name 'Silver Fox.' "Yeah, see ya, Logan."

Victor decided he needed a drink. Several really. And a woman. He'd been growing too close to Logan during his time with Team X, and it was starting to disturb him.

He walked down the small hallway, his massive frame nearly filling it completely. He hated the compound. It was made for tiny, weasely types. Like Silver Fox.

He stopped when he heard arguing from behind a closed door. Quickly, he identified the voices as Logan and Silver Fox. And they weren't happy. He smiled to himself. This could be good."

"Dammit, for the last time, I have no feelings whatsoever for Sabretooth. I just work with him, all right—same way I work with Maverick, or Wraith. He's nobody special."

Victor frowned. Okay, maybe not so good. He started to walk away, but he couldn't. Curiosity got the better of him.

"Logan, I was watching you sparring with him today, for lack of better word. He was practically having sex with you."

"You're reading way too much into things."

"Am I? He had to pinned to the ground!"

"And what, you think I get turned on by guys holding me down? Look, we're teammates, that's it. I don't have any sort of attraction to him."

Victor smirked. He knew that one was a lie. He could smell her every time he was close to her, and the attraction was definitely there.

"I don't care what you say, Logan, I don't like you around him. And I don't want you going to Berlin without me."

So that's what this was all about, Victor thought. Silver Fox must've been cut from the roster for the upcoming mission to Berlin. That was plenty fine with him. The little punk even took the joy out of killing the KGB bastards. All that whining and angsting…

"What am I supposed to do, tell Wraith 'I'm sorry, but I have to stay home. My boyfriend doesn't want me to go.' Come on, we're secret fricking agents. Are you afraid I'll start banging Maverick, too? Maybe I just want all big blond guys…"

"That isn't funny, Logan."

"Look, Silver Fox, this is real life, okay. I have a job to do, and it involves going to Berlin with Victor—on a professional level. Either you learn to handle it, or this will never work."

"Maybe it won't work then."

Victor held his breath, hoping that Logan would tell him good, she didn't want him anyway. She could do better than that scrawny little wimp anyway. She needed a real man…

"Silver Fox…please, don't do this. I care about you too much."

Victor felt the sudden urge to tear Silver Fox limb from limb. He didn't deserve to have Logan talk to him like that. Not in that soft voice…

"Then stop going on missions with that…that monster."

Victor clinched his fists, his talons digging into his own flesh. If he wanted a monster, he could show him a monster, the little shit…

"I can't…I'm sorry. But please, don't leave me. I need you. I couldn't make it without you."

Victor let out a deep breath, his emotions suddenly conflicting. He wanted to smash Silver Fox's head into the wall until his brains leaked out his ear. But it would hurt Logan. He growled. This wasn't right.

Silver Fox flung open the door, glaring at Victor. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Victor took a deep breath. No need to kill him. After all, he was wearing a new shirt. "Just walkin' down the hall."

Silver Fox glared before continuing his storm off. Victor peeked his head into Logan's room. "Hey, you all right, runt?"

Logan wiped at her eyes quickly, standing as tall as she could in Victor's presence. "I'm…I'm fine."

Victor blinked a little. "Yer wearin' girlie clothes."

"Yeah…Silver Fox and I were supposed to go someplace nice tonight. I guess…I guess we're not."

Victor suppressed the urge to kill once again. Logan had put on a dress for that slimy weasel and he hadn't even had the decency to take her out anywhere. "Hey, um, I know I'm not exactly Mr. Charming pretty boy, or anything, but uh, if you want you can, um, come out with me. I mean…there's no reason for you to get all dolled up fer nothin'."

Logan cocked an eyebrow. "Are you asking me out on a date Creed?"

"NO! I mean, uh, just as friends. You know, you like drinking, and I like drinking, so we could go and, drink together…"

Logan smirked. "Let me get my jacket."

Victor watched Logan inspect the interior of his favorite bar with a critical look. 

"Gee honey," she said sarcastically, "I think I'm a little overdressed."  Victor shifted uncomfortably.

"We can leave if you want…"  She laughed.

"Nah.  It looks like more fun then the restaurant I was going to."  She strolled ahead of him and sat down at a table.  Victor noticed that most of the men in the place—the ones sober enough to see straight, anyway—gave her appreciative glances.  He growled under his breath. 

"So what can I get ya to drink?" he sat across the table from her.  Logan shrugged.

"What's good here?"

"Uh…the beer." 

"Okay.  Beer and wings would be good."  Victor waved his arm at a waitress and ordered. 

"So you like the place?"  Logan nodded. 

"It's…well…sleazy."  Victor chuckled.  "But sleazy seems to be your thing, so it works."  He pouted at her.


Logan stood up. "I'll be right back."

"Gotta go powder yer nose?"

Logan rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Victor lounged in the large circular booth, ripping the meat of a chicken bone. Logan was taking too long in the bathroom. Women always did.

"Are you here alone, handsome?"

"Maybe. What's it to ya?"

The woman slid in the booth next to Victor, wrapping her legs around his. "Well, if you were alone earlier, you aren't now."

Victor grinned, his gaze traveling down to her ample cleavage. "So, ya come here often?" he asked with his usual smirk.

"Not often enough, since I haven't run into you before."

"Socializing with the locals, Victor?"

Victor and the woman both turned as Logan came back to the table. "Is this your girlfriend?" she asked.

"I'm his sister," Logan said with a smile.

The woman glanced between them, frowning. "You don't look alike."

"She's my step-sister."


"Brother, darling," Logan said with a smile, "Would you mind going to change the song on the jukebox? I hate this song."

Victor grumbled, but went to pick another song.

Logan leaned across the table conspiratorially. "Victor hates it when I do this, but you seem like a nice woman, and I don't want your night ruined." She glanced around. "See, my brother had a little…accident."


"Yeah. An unfortunate hunting accident."

The woman's eyes grew wide. "Really?"

"Yes. He was loading his gun, and well…let's just say my brother's no longer…all man."

The woman's face grew pale as she scurried away from the table. Logan leaned back, taking a swig of her beer.

"Where'd she go?" Victor asked when he came back to the table.

"She heard her hairdresser calling. Her roots were showing."

Victor glared. "Did you chase her off?"

Logan feigned innocence. "Now why would I do such a thing?"

Victor pointed a finger at her. "You were jealous!"

"I was not!"

"Yes you were!" He grinned. "Does this mean you want me, baby?"

Logan glared and tore the meat off a chicken bone. Victor sat back down beside her. She hadn't said no…

Long after curfew, Victor and Logan crept back into the Team X base.  Victor escorted Logan to the door of her room, stopping in front of it.  "I had fun with ya, runt."

"Yeah, you're not totally impossible when you're getting drunk."  He smiled down at her.

"I'm not drunk anymore." 

"Neither am I," said Logan. 

"So does this mean we can't have wild drunken sex and wake up next to each other with no idea how we got there?"

"Yes it does, Creed."  Victor ran the fingers of his right hand once through Logan's hair, feeling the silky strands slip against his palm.  Logan looked up at him in surprise.

"So do I at least get a goodnight kiss, Wolvie?"  She dropped her eyes from his. 

"I'm with Silver Fox, Victor."  He snorted.

"Yeah, and I heard exactly how well the two of ya are gettin' along earlier." 

"You heard that?"

"I didn't even need my heightened hearing, frail."  He could have sworn Logan was blushing.  "Come on," he said, his voice a low purr.  "I think I deserve a reward here."  Logan let out a sigh, and Victor smelled a wave of desire come off of her. 

He bent his head and pressed his lips against Logan's, holding her against him when she tried to pull away.  After a few seconds he pulled back, waiting to see her reaction. 

She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"Logan, I…"

"Goodnight, Victor," she cut him off, opening her door and slipping inside.  He heard the lock click into place.  Victor cursed and then stomped down the hall to his own room. 

"Yer such a wimp," he muttered to himself before he shut his own door.


Victor stood behind Maverick and Logan. They made the worst tourists he'd ever seen. Maverick especially. Sad when a man couldn't even blend in in his own country.

Logan looked back at him for just a second, and then quickly back in front of her. Victor sighed, cursing himself. If he was going to kiss her, he should've followed through. Now Logan was going to be all weird and womany.

"It is a nice day. The sparrows are flying up above."

Their contact. Victor looked up, watching a man in a dark coat and red scarf approach Maverick and Logan. "If is good to see you again, my friend," Maverick said, shaking his hand.

"And you. And your wife…and brother."

Sabretooth scowled. What, was he everyone's brother these days?

"Come," the contact said. "My wife has made dinner. We will go eat."

In the safehouse, which was really just the guest bedroom of Maverick's contact, Victor was watching as Logan got herself ready to go past the Wall.  She was wearing something black and tight that showed off her ass.  It was his favorite feature of hers.  Well, that and her eyes.  Victor grumbled.  He was turning into one of those emasculated "sensitive males" that were always on the talk shows.  So what if Logan had big, sensitive, sapphire eyes that looked like you could drown in them.  He didn't give a damn about her eyes. 

"Victor?"  All that mattered was that she had a hot body and she wanted him, whether she admitted it or not.  "Victor."  She was just another body to him, another woman in his endless string.  That was all.  Nothing more. 

"Victor!"  He jumped as Logan clapped her hands in front of his face.


"Come back to planet Earth, Creed."  Victor blinked.

"Time to go?"  Logan nodded.

"We need to be behind the Wall before midnight."  She checked her guns and equipment once more.  Victor picked up his own weapons and extra ammo.

"Hey, Logan?"  She sighed.

"What is it, Victor?"  He scraped his talons together nervously.

"About the other night…"

"What about it?"

"Well, I've been thinkin'…"  Logan tucked her long hair underneath her knit cap and opened the door.

"I've been trying not to."  Victor's shoulders fell.


"Let's just forget about it, Creed.  It happened and it was weird, so let's not let it get in the way of the mission, alright?"

"Right.  The mission," Victor muttered.

"Right," said Logan.  She went downstairs to meet Maverick and the contact.  Victor told himself to stop being such a sappy fucking moron and followed her.

Sabretooth, Wolverine and Maverick's breath misted in the freezing night air as they made their way through the darkened streets of East Berlin. 

"That's it just ahead," said Maverick, pointing to an innocuous row house on a narrow street.  The three stopped in the shadow of a shop awning. 

"How many sentries?" asked Logan. 

"No more than three, according to my contact," said Maverick.  "The target is meeting with the Russian director tomorrow morning to exchange the money."

"Who's the target?" said Logan.

"The intel report said he was staying at this safehouse.  That's all I know," said Maverick. 

"So let's stop the coffee talk and go kill 'im," said Victor.  Logan nodded.  

"Let's go." 

At the back door of the house, Logan and Maverick positioned themselves on either side of the door.  Victor drew back his massive booted foot and slammed it into the wood where it met the frame.  The door splintered inwards and Logan and Maverick went in, quickly moving through the downstairs rooms to check for sentries.

Victor stopped and sniffed.  There were too many bodies here—to much stench for three guards and a target.  His suspicions were confirmed by an outburst of gunfire from one of the front rooms.  He ran towards the sound.

Logan was pinned down behind a ratty sofa exchanging fire with several heavily armed KGB agents.  Victor could smell vodka mixed in with sweat and fear and cordite, but it didn't seem to be affecting their aim any.  He dropped down next to Logan.

"How ya doin', frail?"  She changed her clip and continued to fire.

"Somehow I think Maverick's contact never learned how to count." 

"Looks that way."  He glanced quickly around the room.  "No target."

"No shit." 

"We need to get outta here."

"I'm workin' on it, Creed."  She cursed and ducked back behind the sofa.  "I'm out."  He growled.

"Me too."  Another bullet impacted with the sofa, too close for comfort.  "Fuck it," said Victor.  He stood up, letting the slugs hit him and advanced on the nearest gunman.  He grabbed the hand holding the weapon and twisted.  There was a crack of bone and the man fell.

Victor only left one agent alive.  After all, if the target wasn't here, he was somewhere else, and the last time he checked telepathy wasn't one of his secondary mutations. 

He grabbed the man, throwing him on the couch. "Wolverine, hold the bitch down."

Logan grabbed the KGB agent by the arms, pinning him to the arm of the couch. Victor knelt in front of the guy, clicking his talons together. "Where's yer boss."

The KGB agent glared at Victor and spit in his face. Victor snarled, slashing out at the other man's face. He smiled at the scream that followed. "Where is he?"

"I will tell you nothing!" the agent yelled.

Victor reached out with a single talon and punctured the man's eye. "Talk or you'll lose the other one."

"Kill me! I will not tell you!"

Logan leaned forward by the agent's ears. "How about this—you tell us or I rip off your balls and let you live the rest of your life as a eunuch."

"Stupid bitch. Why should I be afraid of some cheap whore?"

Victor roared, grabbing the man by the throat and lifting him off the couch. "That was a mistake, fucker. She ain't a whore. Apologize to her right now." He threw the man on the ground, kicking him hard in the side.

"No. She is a whore. All of your women are whores."

Victor leaned down, digging his claws into the man's back and twisting. "Apologize."


Victor picked him up and threw him back down, kicking him brutally with steeled-toed boots. "Tell her yer sorry, bitch."

The agent began to cough up blood. "I'm sorry!" he yelled as best he could. "I'm sorry."

"Crawl over to her and say it again." The man hesitated. "Do it!"

The man crawled, trailing his blood behind him. "I am sorry."

"Kiss her feet."

The KGB agent let out a sob and bent down, kissing Logan's feet. "You gonna tell us where yer boss is now?"

"I don't know! I swear to you, I don't know!"

Victor looked up at Logan. "What do you think, babe?"

"He doesn't know."

Victor nodded, then walked over to the KGB agent and stepped down on his neck, twisting until all the bones had cracked. He looked up at Logan, her eyes slightly glazed over. "You okay?" he asked.

She leapt at him, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him hard. Victor led her over to the wall, pushing her against it. "I want you," he growled in her ear.

"Don't talk."

Victor trailed his mouth down Logan's chin, dipping down to bite her neck. Logan moaned and leaned up to bite his in return.

"Um, you think maybe we should return to the safehouse before more show up and try to kill us more?"

Victor jumped, dropping Logan to the ground. Logan shook her head, then stood up, dusting off. "Uh, yeah, Maverick. We probably should."

Victor took a deep breath, shaking his head. Logan walked past him, pulling up the zipper on the front of her uniform as if everything was normal. He followed her out, forcing himself to keep his eyes off her ass.

Victor walked into the bedroom of the safehouse, watching Logan as she brushed out her freshly-washed hair. "Hey, baby."

Logan didn't look at him. "Hi, Victor."

He walked over to her, taking her by the waist. "You think maybe we could finish what we started earlier?"


Victor nuzzled her hair, making a sound that was almost a purr. "Come on. All that killin' got me hot. I think it got you hot, too…"

Logan reached down, taking his hands off of her and pushing her back. "No, it didn't. I'm not sick and twisted like you Creed."

"Get off yer high horse, woman. You were gettin' off on killin' that KGB agent same as I was."

Logan turned around, glaring at Victor. "No, I wasn't. Dammit, Victor, just leave me alone. I don't want to see you right now."

"Fine. If you want to run around pretending yer some sort of fucking saint, go right ahead. But really, Logan, yer a goddamn secret agent fer Christ's sake. You chose a job that let's ya kill people. What do you think that means?"

Logan pushed him with all her strength, managing to make Victor stumble backwards. "Leave me alone!"

"Yeah, sure, runt. I'll leave ya alone." Victor left the room, slamming the door hard enough to give the room a satisfactory shake.

Victor looked at Maverick incredulously.  "You gotta be kiddin' me."

"Unfortunately no," said Maverick.  "Wraith's latest communication indicated that our target, the one who's selling old WWII tech to the KGB, is Red Skull."

"Yeah, and since all the intel so far on this mission has been incredibly accurate…" muttered Logan. 

"I thought that old antique was pushin' up daisies," said Victor.

"No," said Logan.  "He survived the end of the war and now he sells experimental Nazi technology to the highest bidder." 

"Well shit," said Victor.  "Aren't we Miss Information these days."

"Fuck you, Sabretooth."  Maverick looked between the two of them.

"We need to take care of this before the tech changes hands."  Victor returned Logan's pissy look with a wide smirk, trying not to chuckle at her attempt to look tough. 

"After you, runt."  She tightened her jaw, but left the safehouse bedroom without another word.

"Is everything…alright between you and Wolverine?" inquired Maverick.

"Oh gee yeah, Mav, things are just super fuckin' keen," Victor snapped.  Maverick held up his hands.

"It's really not my business."

"No, it isn't, so keep yer Krauty nose out of it."  He also left, slamming the door behind him.

East Germany, near the Polish border

Victor liked these types of operations a lot better than the cloak and dagger shit.  Red Skull was trying to make it to the Russian border with his meal ticket, and he'd ended up here, in a small German army outpost left over from the war.  It was in disrepair, the buildings mostly collapsed and weeds growing everywhere.  There was no civilization for miles, no one to hear gunfire.  Or screams.  No way out. 

Victor preferred it that way. 

He also preferred being paired with just Logan, which was exactly what had happened.  Maverick was still in Berlin, trying to track down the other end of Red Skull's connection and get him for Wraith to interrogate.  So it was just him and Wolverine in the field, alone.

Now maybe if he could just get her to talk to him again, things would be good.  She had barely spoken to him since they'd left the safehouse.

He came up behind her where she was crouched with a pair of night vision goggles strapped to her head, looking down at the outpost. 

"So what's it look like down there?"

"There are a lot of guards.  Not Russian or KGB.  They look like Red Skull's hired hands."  Victor cursed.

"I guess goin' in all sneaky-like is out then?"  She snorted.

"I thought you liked making an entrance."  Victor stretched out on his stomach beside Logan in the frozen grass.

"Well, I can finesse things when I have to, frail."  He extended a talon and ran it lightly down her spine and felt her shiver underneath him before she pulled away.

"Stop it, Victor."

"I don't think you want me to."  He leaned over again and nipped her earlobe once before whispering "I think you want me ta fuck you like yer pretty boy never could."  Logan stripped off her goggles and stood, pacing away from him.

"I told you to stop, Creed.  Just leave me the hell alone."  Victor also stood, stretching lazily.  Logan was a good liar, but her scent gave her away.  If there had been a bed anywhere in the vicinity, he'd be a very happy man right about now.

"Okay, Logan.  I'll be a good boy," was all he said.

"Thank god for small favors."  They both shouldered their small gear packs and made their silent way down the hill towards the outpost.

Inside the crumbling building, Logan stopped and sniffed for several moments.

"I think Red Skull's in one of those rooms down that hall, but there are goons all over the place."  Victor extended his talons.

"Why don't you leave that part to me?"  Logan nodded.

"I'll find Red Skull."  She fitted a silencer onto her Beretta and moved quietly down the hall, testing doors.  Victor went towards the sweaty smell of the nearest dumb guy with a gun. 

The merc was big, and blond like Victor, but he wasn't too alert.  Victor came up behind him and tore his throat out before he could make a sound.  He fell in a heap, dark arterial blood spreading across the scarred tile floor.  Victor didn't pause to savor his kill—he moved like the predator he was, until there was nothing in the outpost building but himself and a dozen dead bodies.  He stood over the last one, cleaning the splatter off himself and getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

There were too few, and they were too unawares.  He shouldn't have let Logan go after Red Skull alone.  But he argued with himself that she was a competent agent, and she didn't need to be rescued by a night in shiny fucking armor.  She was a trained killer and she could take care of one little German terrorist.

Victor took off at a run in Logan's direction. 

Red Skull's remaining guards were swarming outside the room. He drew his guns, shooting them quickly, before they had a chance to respond. He burst into the room, and froze. Two guards were inside, and they were…

Victor suddenly could see only red. They were tormenting Logan, and she was impaled on a large, metal spike, stuck through the wall. He roared, dropping his guns and going after them with his bare hands. He pulled the spike from her stomach, letting her fall into his arms. "Logan…talk to me, darlin'," he said, cradling her.

Logan's eyes opened slowly, and she coughed, blood spilling from her mouth. "Red…Red Skull got away."

"It's all right, darlin'. You just heal…"

Logan's eyes closed, and Victor watched her, making sure her breathing didn't stop. He was completely focused on her, as if he could will her to heal faster. He could lose her. She meant more to him than anyone ever had. He was falling…

Victor's thought processes stopped as the barrage of gun fire ripped through his back. He slumped over on Logan, and the bullets stopped.

"Sergei, go see if he is dead."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because I'm the boss."

Sergei walked over to Victor, muttering under his breath. He leaned over in front of Victor's face to see if he was still breathing. Sabretooth's eyes shot open and he grabbed Sergei by the neck and snapped it.

"Back up!" the other guard began to scream into his radio. "The fucking monster's still alive!"

Victor lunged, ripping the guard in half with his claws. Victor took the dead guard's gun and cocked it, waiting for the target practice to come in the form of back up.

He shot each guard as they ran in the room, picking them off with ease. He pulled the trigger as the last two came in and nothing. "Aw fuck!" Victor yelled, throwing the gun to the ground. The guards grinned sadistically and opened fire on Victor.

Suddenly, two shots rang out, and the guards fell, Victor forced his head up, looking over at Logan, who was still holding the gun, her wound all but healed. "Nice shootin' there, frail."

"Come on. Let's get the hell outta here before we have to mess with more of these motherfuckers show up."

"Give me a minute, honey bunches. I'm a bit shot up."

Logan rolled her eyes. "Wimp."

Victor pulled himself up, shaking off the shells that were falling out of his back. "All right, all right. Quit yer bitchin'."

Victor and Logan ran out of the compound and into the woods surrounding the building. Victor grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. "Ya saved me in there, runt."

"Same to you, Vic."

He kissed her, savoring the taste of her mixed with blood. He pulled away, licking his lips. "I'm not takin' no fer an answer this time, Logan."

"It's not the answer I'm going to give." She reached down, deftly opening the front of his pants. Victor hissed in pleasure as he felt her hands around him.

"I've waited too long fer this, darlin'."

Logan reached up, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down onto the ground on top of her. "Not wastin' any time are ya?" Victor asked.

"Shut up."

Victor decided it wasn't time to think. He was getting what he wanted, and that was damn good.

Logan straightened the remnants of her uniform. "All right, Red Skull is more likely traveling towards the Polish border, which means he'll be heading…"

Victor cut her off. "Logan, we just had wild sex in the middle of the fucking woods, and all you can talk about is where Red Skull is headed?"

Logan shot him a look. "We're on a mission, Sabretooth."

"Right. Mission. Look, right now I think we need to reconnect with Maverick and his contact, and decide where to go from here. This is a good point to regroup."

Logan nodded. "Then we'll go back to the rendezvous point and wait for Maverick."

Victor took her arm and pulled her over to him. "C'mere fer a minute."

Logan sighed. "Victor, we've already wasted enough time."

Victor rubbed his hand down her back, stopping so he could cup her rear. "Didn't seem like a waste of time ta me."

"Victor, don't." She pushed lightly against his chest. "The rendezvous point…"

"Fuck the rendezvous point." He snarled, kissing her again. Logan moaned, pushing at him at the same time she was kissing back.

"I think they're over here!"

"Goddammit," Victor groaned, letting go of Logan. "Guess we better run before we get company."

"Yeah." Logan walked off through the woods with Victor behind her.

Victor and Logan found a small, very crappy hotel just over the Polish border.  It was nearly four in the morning, but the sleepy desk clerk acted like a large blond man and a small woman in torn up bloody clothes came in every night of the week.  He handed them a room key and shuffled back to his small television set.

"I'm glad Maverick stayed in Berlin," said Victor.  "I don't think he has the stomach for this kinda thing anyway."  Logan rolled her eyes.

"Victor, he just can't risk going into East Germany for this long a period of time.  He did defect, after all."  Victor snorted.

"Whatever.  All I know is I'm glad ta have the time alone with you."  He took the clean clothes he'd collected at the rendezvous point out of his bag and started to undress.  Logan turned her back.  "What's wrong with you?"

"Do you think maybe you could do that in the bathroom?"  Victor dropped his tattered shirt to the floor.

"Don't tell me my bein' naked bothers you."  Logan sighed. 

"Victor, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about what happened back there."  His pants also dropped to the floor.

"And what would that be, exactly, frail?"  Logan didn't turn around.

"It was a one-time thing.  It won't happen again."  Victor was suddenly behind her, pressing himself against her, his naked body spreading heat through hers.

"I wouldn't bet on that, darlin'."  She turned to face him.

"It can't happen again."  She pushed him away firmly, meaning it.  "We're just partners, Victor.  We can't be intimate."  She turned her back again and started unpacking her own bag.  He walked after her and grabbed her arm, jerking her to face him.  She struggled against his grip.  "Let me go, Victor!"  He tightened his grip in response, his talons digging lightly into her flesh.

"I don't think so, frail."  He pulled her against him, forcing her to feel his obvious arousal.  "Yer not backin' off on me now.  What we did can't be undone."  Logan struck out at him with her free hand, landing a blow on the side of his head. 

"Let go of me!"  Victor snarled, slapping Logan across the face.  She growled back at him as a thin line of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth.  Victor leaned down, his lips almost touching hers.

"I can smell ya want me, frail."  He grinned down at her as she jerked against his grip uselessly.  "But if ya wanna keep fightin', that's fine by me." 

Logan started to respond, but she was silenced as Victor pressed his lips to hers, hard and bruising this time, with no hint of tenderness.  He felt Logan stop struggling against him, felt her start to respond to the mix of blood and pheromones that was passing between them. 

He picked her up, still kissing her, and dropped her on the bed, lowering himself on top of her.  She looked up at him, the blood smeared across her mouth and turning it crimson.  She hit him again, making his head snap to the side.

"I said no, Victor."  He pinned her to the mattress by the wrists and moved her legs apart with his knee, snarling at her to let her know who was in charge here.

"Maybe I'm not takin' no fer an answer, frail."  He released one of her hands and tore off the remains of her shirt before she could react.  Logan let out a soft and very feminine moan. 


Victor raked his talons down her stomach, just enough to make small scratches in the skin.  Logan groaned as he dipped his head and licked the blood off the cuts.  He felt her free hand rake nails down his back, leaving scratches of their own.  He came back up and looked at her.

"Still want me to stop?"  Logan shook her head.  Victor smiled and went to work on the rest of her clothes.

Victor opened his eyes slowly. He could feel a soft female body beside him, could feel the soft tendrils of her hair against his chest. He took a deep breath and smiled. Logan.

He turned over to see the time on the small clock on the nightstand and sighed heavily. They really needed to get going if they were going to have any chance catching Red Skull. He reached out, shaking Logan lightly.

"Silver Fox?"

Victor froze, and Logan's eyes opened. Her mouth opened with surprise. "Victor…"

"Yeah, sorry to disappoint ya."

"Victor, I didn't…I'm just more used to waking up next to Silver Fox, that's all."

Victor felt suddenly angry. He got off the bed, grabbing his pants and redressing quickly. Why should he care what name she said?


"Get yer clothes on, woman. We got a fucking job to do."

Logan's eyes bugged a little before she narrowed them. "Fine." She got up, putting on her own clothes. Victor swallowed hard. He wanted her. Again. Stupid punk ass bitch Silver Fox…

Logan pulled her long, black hair up into a ponytail. "So where to now, Victor?"

"You followin' my lead, frail?"

"I don't know, you seem to like being in control, after all." She gave him a sardonic grin, and Victor wanted to slap it off her. Or kiss it off…

"I'm not the brains of this operation, lady. I'm just the homicidal maniac after all."

"What the hell is wrong with you, Victor?" Logan snapped. "First you attack me like some love-starved psychopath just let outta prison, and now you're acting like an angsty teenager. What gives?"

"Nothing. I just want to get this mission over with."

"Yeah, so do I, but it isn't going to be any easier with you acting like a fucking bastard."

"Well maybe if Silver Fucker was here, you'd be happier."

"I said I was sorry about that! I just didn't expect it to be you, that's all. He is my boyfriend, after all."

"No. Yer mine, Logan. Mine."

"No, I'm not."

Victor lunged at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. "Yer not his, goddammit! Yer mine. You have my scent on you!"

Logan pushed him away. "I can wash it off."

Victor walked away, going over to his pack and getting it together for the mission.

"Victor, I…"

"Shut the fuck up, bitch."

Logan swallowed and got her own bag.


Victor and Logan were sitting on a train moving slowly through the snowy Russian countryside.  Logan hadn't spoken since the scene in the hotel and Victor wasn't sure how he felt about that.  That pissed him off.  He wasn't used to women screwing with his head this way.  It wasn't how things were supposed to go. 

He snuck a glance at Logan.  She had her forehead pressed against the glass, staring out into the whiteness.  Victor had the irrational urge to reach over and stroke her hair, but he held himself back.  If she didn't' want anything to do with him, that was just fine.  Let her go back to her little "boyfriend".  She'd never have it this good again. 

Logan sighed and tucked her legs under her, as if she could sense him watching her.  He turned back to the front.  He had more important things to think about than a scrawny woman and the way she was messing with his head. 

Red Skull was staying in a luxurious mob-run hotel, and judging by the number of guys in bad suits running around the lobby, Victor suspected he was meeting with his contacts this very minute. 

"Let's get this over with," said Logan.  Victor followed her to the elevator.

"So are you not mad at me yet?"  Logan rolled her eyes.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me."

"Yeah, well I was mad at ya then, but I got over it.  Ya can talk to me again if ya want."

"Gee, thanks a bunch Creed."  She deliberately turned her back on him.  Victor sighed.

"What's yer problem, woman?  You want me to bring you flowers and candy or somethin'?" 

"No, I just want to get this op over with so I can get away from you!" Logan shouted.  "You are the most irritating, obstinate, chauvinistic jerk of a man I have ever met!" 

"Aw, babe, you really mean it?" said Victor in a fake sweet tone. 

"Just…just…shut up!" she screamed at him.  Her blue eyes were cloudy and angry, and Victor suddenly wished the elevator would keep going.  She was hot when she was mad at him. 

"But then how can I tell ya what a nice ass you have, runt?" 

"Fuck you!" Logan shouted. 

The elevator door rolled back to reveal two very surprised-looking KGB agents. 

"Now look what ya did," said Victor conversationally.  He reached out and knocked the men's heads together.  They both fell in a heap.  Victor stepped over them, ignoring Logan and any more insults she might have for him.

When he kicked down the door of Red Skull's room, the ex-Nazi was bent over a suitcase full of money, with a dead Russian agent on the floor in front of him.  He looked up at Sabretooth in mild surprise.

"So you are the ones who have been pursuing me so zealously."  He closed the suitcase and pointed a pistol at Victor.  "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Not surprising you double-crossed the Russians," said Logan from behind him.  "You never were what I'd call a reliable type." 

"Wolverine," said Red Skull.  "Still sticking your little nose into my business, I see."  Logan glared at him, aiming her own gun.

"Drop the loot, Schmidt." 

"Or you'll put a hole in me with that pea-shooter?"  Red Skull smiled widely, his scarred face stretching. 

"Do what the woman says, pal," Victor growled.  Red Skull laughed. 

"While this situation is terribly amusing, I have a train to catch.  You will have to play secret agents with someone else."  He nodded once.  "Guten aben."  He turned abruptly and made a move towards the window of his room.  Victor sprang after him, catching Red Skull around the waist just before they both plummeted through the glass. 

Victor landed on the bottom, the snowy ground driving shards of window glass into his back.  Red Skull tried to roll off him and run, but Victor dug his talons into the Nazi's first available body part and held on.  After all the shit he'd been through to get the fucker, he wasn't getting away.

"Stupid American," grunted Red Skull.  He twisted in Sabretooth's grasp and blew a handful of what felt like sand into Victor's face.  Victor felt the burning start at the corner of his eyes and quickly escalate into indescribable pain.  His vision blurred and then went black altogether. 

The fucking Nazi had used one of his goddamn chemical compounds on him.  As he sputtered, Victor felt incredibly stupid and vowed that if he ever saw Red Skull again—if he ever saw again period—Red Skull was a fucking dead man. 

"Creed?"  A hand shaking his shoulder.  "Creed!"  He recognized Logan's scent, and while his healing factor was dealing with the pain he still couldn't see.  He felt Logan's hair brush his face as she bent over him.  "Victor?" she said softly. 

"What?" he snapped.  "I'm blind, not deaf."  Logan withdrew her hand.

"Well it's nice to see you haven't lost your sunny disposition."  Victor eased himself into a sitting position.  The glass in his back was starting to smart.  "Can you walk?" Logan asked him.

"That's a stupid question, runt." 

"Whatever," said Logan.  She grabbed his arm with surprising strength and started to pull him up.  "We have to move before the ones downstairs figure out that the deal went south.  Just lean on me.  I'll guide you."

"You won't guide me over an open manhole, will ya?" 

"Victor, quit being so fucking smart and walk." 

"Yes ma'am," he said sarcastically, leaning against Logan's small frame and stumbling with her through the snow. 

Logan helped Victor into the cool bathtub, his healing factor working too hard to heal his back and his eyes to fully deal with the hypothermia setting in from the snow. She leaned down and began to pick the shards of glass out of his back.

Victor felt his body warming up and the pain beginning to subside as his wounds were able to heal without the embedded glass. His vision was slowly returning, too. "I didn't get 'im, Logan."

"It's all right, Creed. Don't worry about it right now."

She pulled one of the large shards from his back and Creed cried out. "Dammit, woman, that fucking hurts!"

"Would you rather me leave the glass in your back?"

Victor muttered. "No." 

"How's your eyesight."

"Gettin' better. You look more like a hot chick and not a fuzzy blob woman."

Logan laughed in spite of herself. "That's good."

Logan got the last of the glass out of Victor's back and he stood up, the water running down his body. He smirked as he looked down and saw her lick her lips. "Could ya hand me that towel, hon?"

Logan shook her head. "Um, yeah, here." She handed him one of the hotel towels, and he wrapped it around his waist, although it did a pitiful job of covering him. He walked out of the bed room and to the bed, lying down. Logan came out a moment later and stood there, watching him as if she didn't know what her next move should be.

Victor held out his hand. "C'mere."

Logan went to him, lying beside him on the bed. She reached up, touching his cheek for just a moment before pulling away. "Are you all right now?"

"Never been better." Victor leaned down, kissing her with surprising tenderness. He pulled away, and Logan let out a choked sob. "It's okay. You can want me."

"I do."

"I know."

Victor rolled over on top of her, kissing her slowly and leisurely, the violent passion he'd shown her the night before replaced with something else, something that frightened Logan even more. She wrapped her arms around him and made herself stop thinking for a while.

A weak ray of sunlight was coming through the blinds when Victor finally woke up the next morning.  Logan was missing from beside him and sat up quickly. 

"Morning," she said from across the room.  Victor let out a sigh.  Logan was halfway dressed, in his shirt, bent over a black case resting on the small table.

"Morning," he replied.  "What's that?"  Logan shut the case and latched it. 

"I don't know, exactly, but it's what Red Skull was planning to sell to the Russians."  A smile broke out across Victor's face.

"You managed to get the case in the middle of all that shit?"  Logan nodded as if it was perfectly normal.

"It would have been kind of a pointless trip if someone didn't get it."  Victor got out of bed and went over to her, wrapping her small frame in his arms.  She really was as close to a perfect woman as he had ever come.  Sure, his idea of a perfect woman was probably pretty off-kilter, but the fact that Logan was here and she was his filled Victor with a sense of something he hadn't experienced in a long time…longer than he could remember.

"I knew I loved ya for a reason," he said.  Logan stiffened in his arms.  "What?"

"Victor, I…"  Logan disentangled herself.  "We need to get going." 

"What's the hurry, babe?"  He pulled her back to him.  "There's time to have a little fun before we have to leave the Mother Country."  Logan twisted out of his grasp and paced to the other side of the room, looking a bit like she was caged in a space that was too small.

"I think we should go now."  Victor raised an eyebrow.

"What's with you?" 

"Nothing," said Logan as she gathered up her clothes and went into the bathroom.  "I'm fine." 

"Logan…"  She shut the door in his face.

"Well, shit," Victor muttered. 

Logan had done everything she could to avoid Victor on their trip out of Communist territory. Now they were on their way to the debriefing, and Logan was walking as fast as she could, carrying the suitcase with her. Victor caught up in two strides.

"Hey, runt, what's eatin' ya?"

"Nothing, Victor. I'm just ready for this all to be over so I can get back to HQ and relax for a bit."

Victor frowned. He didn't believe that for a second. "Is this 'cause I said I love ya?"

"We don't have time for this," Logan said. "We have a debriefing."

Victor stepped back, deciding not to press the issue. It was all right anyway. She was just tense; she'd come around. She couldn't throw away what had happened between them on this mission any easier than he could. She'd relax about the whole thing, and then she'd realize she was his woman. They'd go back to Team X, she'd break up with her little bitch of a boyfriend, and Victor would be able to bang her whenever he wanted. He just had to wait for her to stop being all hormonal.

He sighed as he walked into the debriefing room behind Logan. He never would understand women.

Team X Compound

The compound was quiet when Victor and Logan arrived back.  Victor stowed his gear in his room and then went to Logan's door and knocked. 

"What do you want, Creed?"  Victor smiled down at her.

"Guess, baby."  Logan crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. 

"Victor, we need to talk."  Victor groaned inwardly.  If it had been any other woman than Logan uttering the words, he would have gotten the hell out of Dodge right there and then.  But as it was, he just sighed.

"Okay."  She stepped aside and allowed him into her room.  Victor sat down on her bed and she paced nervously in front of him.  "Let's get this over with—I'm horny."  She stopped pacing and glared at him.

"That's charming, Victor.  Thanks for sharing with me."  He let out a short growl.

"What's wrong with ya now?  Is it that time of the month or somethin'?"  Logan rolled her eyes and then sighed.

"Victor, this isn't working." 

"Whaddaya mean?  We have sex.  It's good.  Great, in fact.  What part of that doesn't work fer ya?"  He wondered if she was going to say she wanted "something more."  He supposed he could handle that, although he wished she'd stop being such a woman about the whole thing. 

"I can't be with you.  I'm with Silver Fox."  Victor blinked.

"What the fuck did you say?" 

"I'm Silver Fox's girlfriend," said Logan slowly.  "You and me—we don't work like that.  I need more than what you can give me."  Victor shook his head. 

"No way, Logan."  He stood and advanced on her until she was pressed against the wall.  "I can give you everything you need."  He leaned so their foreheads were almost touching.  "Yer my woman whether you like it or not.  I claimed you."  Logan pushed him away from her hard.  Victor stumbled back and landed on her bed.

"I don't belong to anyone, Victor."  She opened her door.  "I thought you could be reasonable, but I don't know where I got that crazy idea.  Leave."  Victor stood up.

"You can't deny what happened with us, Logan." 

"It was a mistake.  I already have someone.  It was wrong." 

"No!" Victor yelled in frustration. "What does Silver Fox have that I don't?"

"He can give me stability."

Victor laughed loudly. "Stability! Come on, Logan! Yer fuckin' spies. Stability ain't exactly part of the job description."

"You don't understand anything about our relationship, Victor. There's more to love than sex."

"Like what? Is this because I'm not much of a cuddler?"

Logan threw up her hands. "No! Goddammit, Victor, you just don't get it. Silver Fox doesn't just expect me to be his little fuck toy. He's…romantic…"

"I can be romantic! Hell, I'll go find ya some flowers right now."

"I don't want flowers from you. I don't want anything from you. I don't love you, Victor. Get it through your thick, blond skull. You're a homicidal maniac. No one loves you. No one ever could."

Victor narrowed his eyes. "That was cold, Logan."

"I'm sorry, it's the truth."

"Fine, I can take a hint. But don't come cryin' ta me when that little fucker can't keep ya happy." Victor walked out, shutting her door softly behind him. Logan sat down on her bed and cried. 

Victor thought she could've had the decency to tone it down in his presence. She was all but in Silver Fox's lap, watching some sappy piece of crap on the television in the rec room. Silver Fox leaned over and whispered something in Logan's ear, and Logan laughed. It was one of those cute feminine laughs, too.

Victor tightened his grip on his glass and it smashed, drops of blood and whiskey hitting the floor. Silver Fox and Logan both turned sharply. "What?" Victor growled. "Never see a man randomly smash a glass with his bare hands before?"

"Honestly, Sabretooth, no, I haven't," Silver Fox said.

Victor stood up. "Ya don't see a lot, do ya, boy?"

Silver Fox rolled his eyes. "What are you babbling about now?"

"What's right in front of yer face."

"Stop being a jerk, Sabretooth."

Sabretooth crossed the room in three strides, and grabbed Logan's arm, pulling her against him. "Why don't ya tell the man what you really want, frail? Why don't ya tell him how hot ya get thinkin' about me—thinkin' about me killin'. That turns ya on, don't it, frail? My bloodlust speaks ta yers, makes it so ya don't wanna keep yer hands off me."

Logan's eyes grew wide. "No! You're crazy!"

"Am I?" Victor grabbed her, kissing her until she finally kissed back. Then he pushed her away hard, letting her smack the back of the couch.

Silver Fox stood, his eyes flashing. "How dare you do that to her! Logan deserves better than to be manhandled by the likes of you."

Victor snarled. "You keep outta this, boy. Logan's my woman, and you don't have any part in it."

Silver Fox made himself as tall as he could. "She isn't yours. You can't touch her."

Victor roared and raised his hand, ready to strike. Logan jumped up and came between them and grabbed Victor's arm. "No, Victor." Her eyes were wide, pleading with him. He felt that tight clenching in his chest again—the one he always got when he thought about her.

He lowered his arm and stepped back. He hated himself. He should kill Silver Fox, reclaim his mate.

Instead he walked away.

Victor sat outside Logan's room for what seemed like forever. He could hear more than he wanted to, smell more than he wanted to.

He sighed. Yer a masochistic loser, Creed.

Victor resisted the urge to run, to hide someplace where the truth wasn't smacking him in the face. But he was a hunter, and he had to wait out his prey…

Finally, Silver Fox emerged. Victor growled low in his throat at the self-satisfied expression on Silver Fox's face. He followed Silver Fox silently until they were far enough away that Logan couldn't hear them. It was then that he stepped from the shadows.

"She's good, ain't she, boy?"

Silver Fox jumped. "What the heck are you doing?!"

"I've come to have a little talk with you."

"Sabretooth, I don't have the energy for this."

Victor's nostrils flared as he thought about just why Silver Fox would be low on energy. He grabbed Silver Fox by the front of his shirt and pressed him up against the wall. "I don't want you touchin' her in front of me, ya got that, fucker?"

"She's my girlfriend."

"Wrong answer, bitch."

"Sabretooth, drop him now."

Victor groaned, roughly throwing Silver Fox to the floor. There was always some pantywaist around to ruin his fun on that godforsaken base. He turned around and grinned. "Evenin', Wraith."

Wraith scowled from beneath his cowboy hat. "I'm sick and tired of this junior high love triangle getting in the way of our mission here. Either the two of you learn to act like adults, or you're both out of here."

Victor smiled. "I can play nice on the playground, Mr. Wraith, sir."

Wraith sighed. "You do that, Victor."

"See, I'll even help him up." Victor leaned down, offering Silver Fox his hand. Silver Fox looked tentatively over at Wraith, then accepted it. Victor pulled Silver Fox up, clapping him on the back. He leaned in close to his ear. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, boy."

Victor pulled back, his grin psychotic. "See ya around, fellas."

He strolled down the hall, visions of murder dancing in his head…

Undisclosed Location
Six months later

Victor sat across the table from a man he had never expected to see again, nor did he particularly want to.

"Let's get this over with," said John Wraith.  "It's a standard black-bag op, no backup, in and out within twenty-four hours."  Victor glanced at the file before shoving it back across the Formica of the diner booth.

"Who's the target?"  Wraith tucked the file back into his briefcase.

"Does it really matter to you, Sabretooth?"  Victor snorted.

"No, guess it wouldn't.  I am just a killin' machine, after all." 

"At least you're realistic about your situation," said Wraith, matching his caustic tone. 

"Don't push yer luck, little man," Victor growled.  Wraith raised an eyebrow.

"Please, Creed.  After the Team X debacle you're lucky you have a leg left to stand on with our employers."

"Guess it's lucky fer me that I have the stomach for these little jaunts our "employers" hand ya then, isn't it?"

"Don't overestimate your usefulness," said Wraith.  "An animal who'd kill an agent on his own team has a very limited shelf life.  You can't be stupid enough to think otherwise." 

"The boy had it comin'," said Victor.  Wraith stood up. 

"You think whatever you want in that twisted little world you call a mind, Sabretooth.  As for reality, you better keep your nose clean, or you'll find that you've outlived your usefulness very quickly."  Victor stood as well, towering over the slight black man.

"I told ya to watch yer mouth, Company Man."  Wraith wasn't intimidated. His scent didn't even change.

"You have your orders, Sabretooth."  Victor snarled once, then told himself for the five hundredth time that the skinny bastard wasn't worth the energy he'd expend ripping out his throat. 

"Yeah," he said.  Wraith turned to leave. 

"Oh by the way," he said, stopping in the door.  "The higher ups specify no peripheral casualties.  Keep it clean."  Victor hit his hand against the wall.

"Goddammit, Wraith!  You are one slimy little bitch."  Wraith shrugged.

"I know it's not your specialty, Creed, but you've done it before.  You did leave two alive from Team X.  Very impressive, considering the scene."  Victor grinned widely.

"I must be gettin' sloppy in my old age."  Wraith returned his smile wryly.

"A prime example of why you don't put women on covert ops teams." 

"Yep," agreed Victor cheerily.  "The bitches are nothin' but trouble."  He walked with Wraith out of the small diner.  "Whatever happened to that skinny broad, anyway?"

"She went MIA pretty soon after your little display of aggression," said Wraith.  "No idea of her whereabouts now."  He stuck out his hand to hail a taxi.

"Guess she was all broken up over the boy's death," said Victor.  Wraith nodded.

"Probably, Sabretooth.  Probably."  He ducked into the cab and quickly vanished into traffic. 

Victor stood on the sidewalk, taking a minute to light one of his thin cigars.  Logan was MIA.  He snorted to himself.  Yeah fucking right.  He could smell a liar, even one who did it as consistently as Wraith. 

Victor tried not to think about her, or about the last time he'd seen her, going to spend her leave time with Silver Fox.  He tried, but didn't completely succeed.  If he was honest with himself, Victor knew he'd probably never be completely over Logan.  She had been his, if only for a little while. 

He growled and stomped the cigar out.  He had a plane to catch, and a man to kill.  A job to do for his employers. 

He didn't have time to think about Logan, all the tiny parts—her eyes, her scent, the way soft light hit her black hair—that he had collected in his mind to make an image that stayed with him, even though he knew he had to forget her if he wanted to keep surviving.  Emotional attachments got you one thing in the assassin game—dead. 

Victor pushed the thoughts of Logan out of his head for good.  He was a busy man. 

He'd forget about Logan in time.

Seattle, Washington
Present Day

Logan looked up at Victor and blinked. "That didn't happen Victor."

"Um, yeah, it did."

"No, it didn't. I know my memories are a little shaky, but I do remember Team X. I'll admit you and I had an attraction for each other, but there wasn't any sex."

"Logan, babe, there was sex. Hot, kinky sex."

Logan rolled her eyes. "Please."

Victor rolled over on top of her, pinning her to the bed. He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "Don't tell me ya honestly don't remember any of it, frail. Ya know it happened. Yer body remembers it."

Logan shivered. She thought back, back to Team X. There had been discrepancies, little things that didn't make sense, but she'd done what she'd always done—she'd covered it over with what worked for her, what let her sleep at night.

She could see it, almost like a shift. She could see herself pushing Victor away, telling him they could never be together, that she loved Silver Fox. But then it changed, and she wasn't doing that at all…

Logan pulled away from him, looking away towards the balcony. "I shouldn't have left you then, Victor. You were right. I am yours…"

Victor put his hand on her shoulder, gently rolling her to face him again. "Logan, don't. Please. Look, it hurt then, and some things happened that shouldn't have, but I don't wish it any different. Things happen for a reason. We have a history, a bond. We had to get through a lot of blood and tears to get here, but we're here anyway—and it's perfect."

Logan's eyes glistened with tears. "Victor…"

"Aw, babe, don't get all misty on me," Victor said, looking down. "Let's just try to recapture some of that secret agent passion, whaddaya say?"

Logan stroked his cheek. "I'd say that I must be the luckiest woman alive, Victor Creed."

Victor grinned, moving closer to her.

"Damn skippy."