Summary: Five things that you never ever ever ask a Wolverine.

Disclaimer: Property of Marvel and Fox and Stan Lee and blah blah blah...

1. "What's up with the hair?"

John was sitting in the kitchen, just playing with his lighter, when Logan walked in. John watched as Logan searched through the refrigerator.

Logan flipped the cap off the bottled beer and arched a brow at John. "You gonna tell on me, kid?"

"I won't if I can ask you something."

Logan straddled a stool across from him, taking a gulp. "What's that?"

John hesitated for a moment and then just blurted out, "What's up with the hair?"


"Your hair... It sticks up in exactly two points and you look like a..."

"A what?"

"Like a...thing..."

"A thing?"

"Like a...weird cat thing... I mean, does it do that naturally or do you actually groom it that way? Like with gel and mousse and everything?"

"Kid, word of advice?"



"Stop while you're still ahead."

"Right." John clicked shut his lighter and slid out of the room, giving Logan a very wide berth, careful not to be within arm's reach.

2. "Could you pick up something from the store for me?"

How did he get talked into this?

Oh, yeah -- Marie and her damn Southern drawl asking him oh-so-sweetly, "Could you pick up something from the store for me?"

He glared at the shelves in front of him -- they were mocking him, he knew.

He didn't even know what the fucking difference was between the plastic wrapped and the paper wrapped products. They were the same thing, weren't they?

Why did Marie ask him to go to the store for her? Like he was to suppose to be some kind of seen-it-before-done-it-already person. Well, he'll have to set the record straight when he got back. He's never seen this before and he definitely did not do this already. And if he could never do this again, his life would be fan-fucking-tastic.

He stomped to the front of the store, the cashier girl eyeing him. He grabbed a shopping cart and headed back to the dreaded aisle. He just started grabbing things from the shelves, not even bothering to read names or labels.

When he went to pay, the cashier girl just gave him a look, arching the brow she had pierced.

"It's for somebody else," he said. He could feel his cheeks getting hot, he could only imagine how red they must be getting.

"No shit," she shot back sarcastically.

They didn't say anything more as she rang him up and stuffed everything into plastic bags.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he grabbed the bags and headed out to the car.

When he got back to the mansion, he shoved his way to Marie's room, using the plastic bags as weapons as much as possible.

She was lying on her bed, curled up in the fetal position under her sheets and comforter. She opened one eye when she heard the door slam open.

"Logan! Did you buy out the whole store?" she exclaimed as she saw the eight bags in each of his hands.

"You never told me what to get!"

"I told you! I just needed some tampons!"

He growled at her and threw the bags on the floor next to her bed. "Next time, ask somebody else to go to the store for you 'cuz there is no way in hell that I'm doing that again!"

3. "I really need to talk to someone. Do you have a moment?"

He was planning on having a quiet night to himself. Everyone was out -- even the Professor was out, saying something about a 'hot date.' His exact words.

But whatever... He had his beer. He had his TV Guide. He was all set.

He was searching for the remote when he noticed him sitting on the other side of the couch.


"Uh, hi, Logan..."

"What are you doing here? I thought you were going out with Rogue."

"So did I."


Then out of nowhere, Bobby started bawling his eyes out. Logan looked horrified -- was it something he said? what the fuck is the matter with this kid? He tried to offer some sort of comfort to Bobby -- he patted his arm awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," Bobby blubbered out. "I really need to talk to someone. you have a moment? I'm having some...issues."

"Issues?" Logan didn't think it was possible but Bobby was crying even harder now. "Listen, kid, if you're having problems with Rogue, maybe you should talk to her and not me."

"I've already tried talking to her!"


"She said there was nothing more to talk about!" Bobby sobbed. "She made up her mind!"


Bobby looked at him incredulously. "Okay? Okay? Okay?!"

Wow, I didn't know a guy could get his voice that high.

"How could this be okay? She broke up with me!! And she tells me that she's been seeing somebody else already! Tell me how could this be okay?"

"Geez, kid, relax."

"Relax?!" he shrieked, Logan cringing at the sound. "Do you know who she's been seeing all this time?"


"My roommate, that's who! My so-called best friend!"

Logan tried to hide his grin -- but goddamn, this was priceless. Mr Perfection getting dumped. And then Marie going off with his best friend. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips.

"Are you laughing?"

Uh-oh, he looks pissed.

"What? Uh...of course not!"

"Yes, you are! You are laughing!"

Logan could feel his lips tremble. He was trying to not to laugh at the kid but this was just too fucking hilarious. He couldn't hold it back any longer, the laughter burst out. He only laughed harder as Bobby gave him a look of outrage and walked angrily out of the room.

Never did say I was good at listening to these kids fucking angst about their love lives, he thought to himself, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.

4. "Is it possible for you to be even a little bit nice to Scott?"

"What the hell do you want from me?" Logan growled at Kitty.

"You should think about your karma," she said, hands on her hips, trying to look as intimidating as he did right then.

"My karma? What the hell do you know about my karma?"

"I know that what comes around, goes around."

"You've been listening to that damn song again, haven't you?"

"Timberlake. His name is Justin Timberlake. And for your information, I think he's completely right."

"This isn't because I caught you kissing that poster of yours, is it?" Logan asked as Kitty blushed bright red.

"I told you! I wasn't kissing it! I was just...adjusting it... And besides, we're not talking about me right now. We're talking about you! Is it possible for you to be even a little bit nice to Scott?"


"What do you mean 'why'?"

"I hate his guts so why should I be nice to the guy?"


"You're not letting this go, are you?"


"Fine, fine..." He waved her away with an annoyed look on his face. "I'll try to be nice."

Kitty beamed a smile at him and walked into the other room to pick up her books.

She heard Scott's voice along with Logan's drifting through the walls.

They're talking...and there's no yelling. That's good, he's at least trying, she thought.

Then a smack, then a howl of pain, then Scott coming out, holding his jaw tenderly.

"What happened?" Kitty asked, running into the hallway.

"The idiot punched me!"

"Keep it up, jackass," Logan growled from behind, cracking his knuckles in a way that would have sent any normal man scrambling. Scott just glared at him over his shoulder and went in search of an ice pack.

"I thought I said to be nice!"

"You know what, Kitty?"


"Karma can bite my shiny metal ass!"

5. "What's the deal with hockey?"

As soon as the words passed through Peter's lips, he realized his mistake.

The room cleared faster than he had ever seen -- even faster than that one time when Storm announced there was chocolate cake in the kitchen. He watched as Scott and Jean scuttled out the door, almost getting jammed in the doorway as Jubilee and Siryn were trying to pass through at the same time. He could have sworn the Professor was in the room also -- there was nothing but black tire marks on the wooden floorboards now. John and Rogue ducked out the French doors that led out to the gardens, followed quickly by Hank and Moira. Kitty phased right through the floor, not caring apparently who or what she might drop into this time. He even saw Warren dive out an open window.

Aw, crap, what did I just get myself into?

"What's the deal with hockey?!"

Peter looked back at Logan. Yup, he made the biggest mistake of his life. Peter saw the vein in Logan's neck throbbing. The one you didn't want to see throbbing -- it meant trouble, it meant danger, it meant get-the-fuck-out-he's-about-to-explode.

"Let me tell you what the deal is, bub..."

Peter shifted on his feet, knowing that he was going to have to stand there and listen to Logan rant for at least the next ten hours.

Ten hours, if he was lucky.