The moment has arrived.
The last chapter. The epilogue.
Can you believe it's here? I can't.
Anonymous: I really appreciate your review and have taken your vote into consideration. I'm quite pleased to know you are enjoying yourself.
Brsk: thank you again for the review and sorry about the confusion. I'm super excited about writing your one-shot.
lina: I have a couple name for Bobby and Lorna. Lobby, haha.
Zany: closet scenes are super awesome. I want as many of them as possible. And yes, a new uniform. The old one was just awful and it's time Roguey upgraded. And I think Remy does his little "being annoying" bit because he's Remy but it makes itself more known when he's nervous. And btw: you're Remy is super awesome, too.
Everyone else: thank you for sticking with me this whole time. I am endlessly thankful and hope you enjoy the epilogue.
Logan's job was never done.
He had to be one of the main lines of defense for a school just teeming with children. He had to somehow cope with all of his emotional baggage without becoming too much more of a basket case. He was supposed to fight people who wanted mutants oppressed and the world destroyed without killing them.
Do you know how hard it is for Logan to not kill? It isn't easy.
He had to get his daily dose of beer and cigars while somehow not letting the students think it was okay to drink and smoke. He had to listen to girls squeal about some Bieber kid and act like he gave two shits. He had to be a mother hen and still come out looking like a badass.
And in all of his badassery, he still had to be a good influence around the kids.
Whoever thought it was a good idea for Logan to be around children was crazy. And whoever thought that putting him around children so he could be a good influence needed some serious psychiatric help.
He grunted as he perused the halls of the mansion, making sure all was right. It was a Sunday night, so most of the high school students were enjoying their last hours of freedom before they had to go to bed for school in the morning. While they were off getting a public education, he would be finishing up repairing the foyer for Essex's little break in. Most of the damage had been repaired but now there was some cosmetic work to be finished.
His job was never done.
He was going to go to the game room, where he suspected most of the students to congregate at. But before he was even half way there, his ears picked up the sounds of X-Kids making odd noises.
"Ooooooohhhhhh," they said in unison, sounding like an old comedy laugh track. Or an "oooh" track. Whatever. Either way it wasn't a good noise. It wasn't the kind of noise he wanted to hear in a mansion full of children just pumping with excess hormones.
Teenagers, he thought with a sneer.
He picked up the pace a bit when he heard several people murmur "Sexy" and "Mr. Logan is gonna kill you."
Chances are, if someone said "Mr. Logan is gonna kill you," they were completely, absolutely, undeniably, unquestionably correct.
When he finally reached the game room, he found Gumbo and Stripes. Gumbo in a black button down shirt that was a bit too tight that he probably put on to "subtly" show off those muscles he so loved to flaunt.
And Stripes? She was wearing some red top that was a bit too tight for his liking, along with some jeans, and black knee high boots he most certainly had a problem with. After he finished eviscerating Gumbo, he and Stripes were going to have a nice, long conversation on her clothing choices. The only thing she had on that he was okay with was a pair of gloves. Long black ones with pearl buttons.
Logan could tell just from their appearance that they were quite expensive. Something in his gut told him the Cajun had something to do with it.
The gloves were very nice and fit Stripes like a…well. Like a glove.
He wasn't good at analogies. Or similes. Maybe he was thinking of a metaphor?
He was the best at what he does and what he does isn't freaking English. He kills things. That's his thing. Beast was the one who knew words.
Logan just wished someone would try to correct his syntax or whatever. If he wanted to end a sentence with a preposition, he would end it with a preposition, dammit.
He lost his train of thought.
Right. Gumbo and Stripes.
It wasn't what they were wearing that upset him the most. What upset him was that they were doing.
Stripes was curled around like Gumbo until they were so pressed together, they were almost one person. And Gumbo had his hands a little too low for his liking. And they had their tongues shoved down each other's throats. Seriously. They probably knew what the other person had for breakfast.
He was backing her toward the pool table. The very same pool table where Elf and the annoying Boy Scout were actively playing a game of pool. They weren't playing well but they were playing. Not that the two horndogs seemed to notice. Or care.
He growled and stomped into the room.
They jumped apart like someone dunked a bucket of water on them. Which was good. Stripes bit her lip, reaching for the Cajun's hand.
Like that would help.
Logan took the pretty boy by his pretty shirt and dragged him back into the hall. He chose to ignore the snickers and pitying looks the kids gave Gumbo. Instead, he took the young man and shoved him against a wall, still maintaining a solid grip on his stupid button down shirt.
"I am gonna end you, LeBeau," he snarled, trying to figure out the longest, most drawn out way to neuter the boy. "Give me one reason—one god damn reason—why I shouldn't chop your head off right here and now and serve the rest of you up as Cajun style kabobs for dinner."
Remy gulped. "Well…for one, servin' me up as dinner is considered cannibalism and Remy don' think Charlie is gonna be too okay wit' that."
"Gumbo…" he growled, aching to pop a claw and slice off all of the Cajun's pretty, too long hair.
"And," he added hastily, "'cause Remy loves Rogue deeply and she loves me. If you chop off my head, Rogue'll be awfully upset."
Logan snarled but said nothing. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder at the girl with the stripes in her hair. She was fiddling with the material of her gloves, an anxious expression on her face. He thought back to the day not so long ago. How she pleaded for a little bit more privacy. How she promised to keep the Cajun on his best behavior.
Like he believed that for a second, but whatever.
He loved Rogue. You wouldn't get him to admit out loud unless he absolutely had to but he loved the kid like his own daughter. The one thing he wanted for Stripes was for her to be safe.
Making out with the Cajun seemed to make her happy, even if it baffled him to an endless degree. The Cajun seemed to make her happy, something he didn't even attempt to understand. All he knew—all he needed to know—was that was what she wanted. That and occasionally to have him look the other way.
He turned back to Gumbo, who was watching him oddly.
"Do you love Rogue?" he barked.
Logan ticked off each point on his fingers. "Don't hurt her, don't kidnap her again, don't try an' make her do anythin' she don't wanna do, don't use her, don't take advantage of her, and don't break her heart. If you do one—just one of those things I said—then I swear I will chop you up into so many pieces, they will never find all of them. Do you understand me, Cajun?"
"Oui," Gumbo said, nodding vigorously.
Logan grunted again, pulling the Cajun away from the wall and shoving him toward the door to the game room. "Then get the hell outta my sight before I change my mind."
To his annoyance, Gumbo just stood there, looking all clueless and stupid, blinking at him with his red and black eyes.
"Really?" he asked, looking from him to Rogue and back again. "You're jus' gonna…let me go? Like that? So I can go and do…things wit' Rogue?"
"Don't push your luck." He shoved the Cajun into the game room, toward Stripes. Not needing any more of a hint, Gumbo scooped Stripes into his arm, planting another entirely inappropriate kiss right there on her mouth.
"And don't get used to it!" Logan yelled into the room before he turned his back and went in the opposite direction. The stupid things he did for love….
He needed a beer.
As he left, he heard the sound of feet following him down the hall. Moments later, Red appeared by his side. She looked absolutely shocked and disgusted.
"Logan," she said, sounding anxious. The kid really needed to learn to chill out a little. She was going to go gray before she hit twenty one. "Are you really just going to let them do…that? Right there? On the pool table? I mean…Logan!"
"Red," he said as calmly as possible, "if there's one thing I understand is how nice a little privacy is from time to time."
"But…but…but…" she stuttered, "it isn't private! They're doing it. In front of everyone!"
"Well then maybe y'all outta head to a different room if you don't wanna see that."
As Logan continued toward the kitchen, he noticed movement in a darker, more secluded corner of the mansion. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was Ice-Boy and Green.
Also making out.
He considered the young couple briefly. He recalled how he had just been forgiving with Stripes and Gumbo. He recalled how privacy in a mansion teeming with people was hard to come by. He thought about what it was like to be young and in love.
And then he decided that, even if he was forgiving, he wasn't that forgiving.
"Green! Ice-Boy! I swear if you two don't break it up then I will slice your tongues off so you can't use them for what you plannin' on usin' them for! Am I clear?"
They nodded and he just wished he had a beer.
His job was never done.
The end…for now. Mwhahahahha!
Um…anyway. Look out for the mini-sequel, Button Down Shirts, which should be up semi-soon. Until then, keep voting (if you haven't already) and look out for more one-shots and my next chapter story.
Thank you so much for sticking with me through this story. It's been so much fun and I can't wait to get back with you all soon.
So until we meet again…