E-mail: notmanos at yahoo dot com
Disclaimer: The characters of Angel are owned by 20th Century Fox and Mutant Enemy; the------------------------------------------------
character of Wolverine is also owned by 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics. No copyright
infringement intended. I'm not making any money off of this, but if you'd like to be a patron of the
arts, I won't object. ;-) Oh, and Bob is *my* character - keep your hands off!
"Well,I know that,"he snapped,growing more and more obsessed with the fact that he was there.It could have been a coincidence,but he seriously doubted that.No,he was tied into those killings somehow...
"You're gonna go to London,aren't you?"Bob asked,with a weary sigh.
'Well,it's away from here',he thought,but didn't say.Although,belatedly,he realized Bob had probably picked it up anyways.Why was he even having a verbal conversation with him?
"Because I think it's easier all the way around,"Bob said,answering his unspoken question.
Logan decided he was just giving up."Tell me why I don't kill you again,"he asked,rubbing his eyes wearily.
" 'Cause I won't let you."
"What are ya gonna do when you get there?"Bob asked,continuing with the previous topic of conversation."Hand out fliers with your picture on it and ask "Have you ever seen me before"?"
He shrugged,finishing pulling down his shirt-he forgot he hadn't.Bob was so irritating sometimes he could make him forget what year it was."I don't know.But if I had a past there I have to know what it was."
"Let me break it down for you,big guy:you were there,in control of the muy muy bad guys.You were probably there on a job for them,meaning most people who saw you are either bad guys themselves,or extremely dead.Do you really want to run into these creeps again?You know they travel in packs."
"I can handle it."
"Not always you can."
Logan glared at him,but since he could glare at him all day and it wouldn't do a damn bit of good,he busied himself putting on his socks."I'll be prepared this time."
"Yeah,if I go with you-"
"No fucking way,"he interrupted."I'm going alone."
"I wouldn't advise that.They'll be expecting you to be alone,and you don't even know London."
"This isn't like flying the fabuloso X-jet,Logan-you probably wouldn't have a reflex memory of a city."
Logan looked up at him so fast he almost gave himself whiplash."What the fuck are you talking about?"
Bob grimaced almost apologetically."You know what I'm talking about,so let's cut the crap,eh?"
Xavier wanted him to learn about the jet,which Logan couldn't have cared less about,but when he heard Scott dismiss it he had to do just to annoy the Boy Scout.So when he got him in the flight sim,Scott asked him what he knew,and rather than admit to ignorance,Logan just started hitting buttons and flipping switches.
Scott was looking on in slack jawed shock,and finally Logan couldn't take the suspense anymore."What?Come on,just say it."
Finally,Scott did."How did you know this?Did Storm tell you?"
It turned out Logan had done everything right:pre-ignition,ignition,maneuvering thrusters,main engines.He could fly the jet now.And he didn't know how or why any more than Scott.He lamely made the excuse that he must have picked it up from Bob's mind,but that didn't sound quite true even as he said it.It was just another mystery,like speaking Japanese and being able to assemble a rocket launcher.Or being in London just in time to witness a massacre.
"I need to do this by myself,"he said,not even wanting to have this argument.But what the hell was he supposed to do when he hit London?Maybe it would just be nice to get away from everyone,get some space,even if it was pointless. "You said this club used to be called Hell-what's it called now?"
Bob made a small noise of amusement,and the way he smiled at him,Logan knew this was going to be bad."It's been renovated several times,but now it's a specialty club."
He really didn't like the sound of that."Specialty club?"
"Well,it's a bar called Spank."
He stopped putting on his boots long enough to stare at him."What?"
"Yes,I know,I thought that too.It's a sadomasochistic 'gentlemen's club' in a really nasty part of town,for upper class guys to slum and get a bit of guilty pleasure too,getting their bums smacked by women dressed as headmasters as they enjoy their overpriced scotch."
"You're making this up."
"No,I'm not.In fact the guys behind Spank made enough money that they're apparently branching out into San Francisco next fall,with a slant for 'American sensibilities',whatever that is.Hel and I thought we might go check it out when it opens,'cause we always need a good laugh.If you're in the area then,maybe you want to join us."
"Thanks,but I'll pass."He finished lacing up his boots,wondering what possessed some people.Hey,he liked a bit of kink every now and then,but that was just sad.He didn't even want to know the sexually retarded person who'd get off on something like that.
He stood up and grabbed his leather jacket from the chair,and he could feel Bob giving him a disapproving look.When he turned to face him,he was shaking his head like a disappointed father."I thought you'd do something like this."
"Good for you,"he replied,heading for the door.Bob moved rather quickly to block the door,holding up his hands as if he wanted to make it clear he didn't want this to break down into a fight."Hear me out here,Logan."
"All I've been doing is hearing you,"he pointed out irately.
But Bob didn't seem wildly concerned about that."I have-well,I hesitate to call her a friend.Let's say an acquaintance who's the Watcher who threw me a bone.She also used to be in MI5,and she's using her connections and pulling strings to see if she can find out anything about the Organization or their potential activities in London around '87.She can probably help you out,give you a hand-"
"I don't need any more help from your friends,Bob."
"Don't worry,Ruby's no Helga.In fact,she probably wants as much to do with you as you do her."
"Ruby?"Seemed like a funny name for an MI5 agent.She sounded more like she should be working at Spank.
"I asked her to keep an eye on you and keep you informed on her investigation."
"I don't need anyone keepin' an eye on me."
"Maybe not,but if you need directions,she's the one you want to talk to."Bob reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a very small cell phone,which he promptly held out to him."She's the first programmed number,I'm the second,and don't even think about flushing it down a gas station loo."
"Found about that,huh?"He really hated cell phones,and so that's what he did to the phone Bob gave him without telling him:flushed it down the john of a pretty nasty gas station bathroom somewhere south of Cour D'Alene,Idaho.He didn't think it would actually go down the drain,but it did.Technology was amazing.
Bob fixed him with an acrid glare."Don't want the phone,give it back:don't introduce it to a septic system.Got it?"
He didn't want it,but he knew Bob could force the issue if he wanted,or-worse-use alternate methods of communication that were far more intrusive,so he snatched the cell from his hand and shoved it in his own back pocket."Only if you don't call me all the time."
"Consider it done.But I expect to hear from you now and again,or I'll expect the worst.Oh,and take this."Bob reached into his front pocket this time,and pulled out something that looked like a small elephant figure carved out of jade.
"What the hell is that?"
"An elephant,"he replied,giving him that famous smart ass grin."And a Ganesha fetish.I figured you might need the luck."
"I don't believe in luck."
"Neither do I.But that's the general interpretation of 'Nesha's limited power-luck."The remover of obsticles". Actually, what he can do is limit the effects of entropy in a very small area,but believe me,it all helps."
Logan stared at the jade elephant in Bob's hand,making no move to take it."I still can't believe a Hindu god actually exists."
"Well,see,the problem is,he's not really a god-he's a jovial sort from a neighboring dimension.Most so called gods actually are:I have yet to meet one who wasn't.But Nesha doesn't get the fuss,and won't come back to this dimension, 'cause people scare him.I explained how some people worshiped him,and he thought that was pretty flattering,but when I tried to explain the Hindu caste system,he got freaked the hell out.He doesn't get people,and I sympathize.Most so called gods,when they find out that people are fighting each other and killing each other over them,they just change their name and hope no one figures it out."
"Is that what you did?"
Bob just continued to smile at him."Now,this has a bit of 'Nesha's power in it-he gave it to me as a gift.Take it with you, please,just to keep me from nagging you incessantly."
"Too late."But he took the jade charm and shoved it in his front pocket,where he knew he'd just forget about it."Can I go now?"
"One more thing,"he said,taking something out of his other pocket.It was a wad of colorful money he jammed in Logan's coat pocket,without even asking.
Logan just stared at him."You really did know I was gonna go,didn't you?"
"You're a nomad,Logan.You can only stay in one place for so long.Good luck,and call me."
"Yeah,Mo-"he began,but Bob suddenly said something unintelligible,and the entire world seemed to shift nauseatingly around him,and the mansion disappeared.
"-m,"he finished,as he staggered on a darkened street,the cold night air redolent with car exhaust and cooking oil.He could hear/feel loud music pounding away from a club down the street,a club with a big red neon sign that read 'Spank'.It had a small neon animation of a paddle swinging towards the bottom of the s.
As the wave of nausea passed,Logan cursed himself.He should have known Bob was going to do that.He just lived to be difficult.
Professor Xavier smiled up at him,a hint of pain in his cloudy blue eyes."Hello,Bob.I thought I sensed you."He looked past him curiously,subtly searching the room."Logan's not here?"
"He just left."
"Yes.He's in London."
Bob sensed the shock,even through the constant thrumming undercurrent of Xavier's psychic powers.It didn't show on his face,though,not really."England?"
"Yep.I just teleported him there."
Xavier wasn't quite sure what to think of him.He knew he was inhuman,knew he was dangerous,and yet knew he didn't mean them any harm (and,if he did,what could they do about it?).
Bob grinned,almost laughing."Yeah.He remembered being in London and finding a club full of dead bodies,and he wanted to investigate it,see if he could get some memories back."
"Ah,I see."He paused,looking troubled."He never told us."
"No.You know how he is,though."
Xavier nodded,glancing down at the floor.He was bothered by the fact that Logan continued to treat them like familiar strangers,assuming that,by now,they should have at least a bit of his trust.But it didn't work that way:Logan didn't really trust him either,but he had no choice since Bob knew so much about him."Give him time,"Bob advised."Logan doesn't accept kindness easily."
He felt a small surge of anger from Xavier,and knew that he had phrased it wrong."It is not just kindness,Bob.Logan belongs here,whether he realizes it or not."
"Or Scott,"he agreed wryly.
After a moment,he told Xavier,"Home is a dangerous word and concept to Logan.The few times he had one in his life... well,my sense is that things turned out quite badly.If it was just him that was hurt,it might not be,but it was never that way.He's afraid to get close to people because he's afraid of betrayal and afraid of getting hurt,getting hurt by people dying and it all being his fault.Logan will never admit it-and please don't tell him I told you-but his greatest fear is helplessness.That he will be helpless to stop whatever it is that's going to happen."He didn't add "It's happened before and he doesn't want to see it happen again" because Xavier didn't need to know that.He may have already guessed that part anyways.
Xavier nodded sagely,almost forgetting how much it hurt to be around him."I've gotten that sense from him,when things seem to be going wrong.There seems to be as much fear as rage."Xavier then gave him an odd look,and asked,"You dyed your hair?"
He ran a hand through his hair,pulling strands down into his sight range for viewing.They looked more gold than usual, not blonde but positively gilded."Crud,"he muttered,willing the darker bits back.He liked to have a mix of brunette and gold:he thought the contrast was flattering for his skin tone.
Xavier gave him the oddest look for that.In retrospect,he probably wasn't used to people changing their hair color by thinking about it."You can will your hair color?"The Professor asked,a little awed.
"Well,yes and no.If I don't pay attention,it can sort of change color on its own."
Xavier continued to give him a curious look,thinking back on his theory that Bob warped reality by sheer force of will.It was a god like power,wasn't it?And even his own body appeared to be mutable...
"It's a demon thing,"Bob quickly lied,trying to short circuit that arc of thought.Xavier didn't know enough about demons to know that was crap,and couldn't read him to find out one way or another.
Xavier knew that too.His look was dubious as he frowned in thought,and made a mental to ask Logan about it when he got back.Bob already knew what he'd say.With a disgusted snort,he'd say,"It's just a Bob thing.Bob's weird."
And he could never argue with that.But the less Xavier knew that,the more comfortable he was being around him.
Logan wasn't the only one with secrets.It was just Bob's abilities that let him keep his for as long as he wished.
Logan glowered at the six foot tall,two hundred pound skinheaded dork,and wondered how much damage he could get away with doing to him before the police were called.
The doorman was very muscular,but in that phony 'I spend all my free time at the gym' sort of way,his thick body enhanced by a grey t-shirt and khaki cargo pants so tight he looked like an overstuffed sausage casing on the verge of exploding.It looked like he had black tribal tattoos on his shaved scalp,but even from here,in this crowd reeking of cigarettes and nervous anticipation,Brut and Sunflowers and hair spray,Logan could smell that they were fake stick on tattoos.The chemical smell was a dead giveaway:real tattoos only smelled of the inks used,with a small infusion of blood.
His small brown eyes seemed to get lost in the doughy round mass of his face,but the contempt came right through to Logan."I ain't some pathetic trendoid looking for a safe cheap thrill,bub-I just need to see if the inside of the place looks familiar.Then I'm the fuck out of here."
But the goon didn't even seem to hear him over the throbbing bass bleeding from the closed doors of the club."Are those real?"He asked,reaching out to touch his sideburns.
Logan grabbed his thick wrist before he could,and then snapped his head forward,giving the idiot doorman a vicious headbutt that knocked him cold instantly.He didn't fall more than flop down on his belly like a violently beached whale, and Logan was sort of disappointed he didn't get to hurt him just a little more.
Although the crowd behind him was stunned into silence (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately),he didn't bother to look behind him as he stepped over the bouncer and headed through the red painted doors into the club with the really unfortunate name of Spank.
The techno music was loud enough to kill small mammals,and even Logan felt like he had been briefly stunned,his eardrums threatening to shatter like Legion was screeching at him again.But it was better than looking at the place: with its colored gel lighting and teak paneling,its stripper stage and an old fashioned brass trimmed bar,it looked like a pub after its abduction and reinstallation by the horny adolescent aliens with the bad sense of hearing.
That might explain the patrons too.Mostly men in shirtsleeves with skewed ties,as if they came here straight from work at the cubicle farms,they all seemed rapt by their watery drinks and the women wandering the club,dressed as bizarro headmasters with the wardrobe addition of stilettos and miniskirts,wielding large rulers that would have made the most militant nun green with envy.
Oh man,he was going to need to take another shower.This was sleazy as well as sad.
As if to prove that,the stripper gyrating on the small stage was dressed as a schoolgirl in pigtails,with an extremely short skirt and some major league breast implants peeking out of a lacey white bra,just visible under the shirt she was slowly peeling off.The lustful catcalls of the men grouped around the small stage like worshipers at a religious sacrifice were almost as loud as the speaker blowing techno music overhead.This was just pathetic.What did he think he was going to find here again?Reasons he shouldn't feel sorry for himself?
The club was not familiar,just annoying,and just as he made up his mind to leave (what a mistake),he felt someone hit him in the ass really hard."You are blocking the aisle,boy,"a woman said,in a mock stentorian voice.
He turned around,and found himself facing a stern faced woman wearing fake wire rim glasses (it had no lenses),her straw colored blonde hair done up in a severe librarian's top knot,smacking one of those long,reinforced rulers in a threatening manner against her palm."I ain't one of your pathetic customers,doll,I wandered in here by mistake.I'm goin' now."
"We do not tolerate back talk,"she said,still playing her role.She whipped that ruler again,like she intended to smack him with it again,but he caught it and broke it into several pieces with a single squeeze of his hand.She looked absolutely horrified,and finally broke character." 'ey,you bastard,if I go through more than five of these it comes out of my paycheck!"
"Then don't hit me unless you mean it,"he snapped back,walking past her and shoving his way through the crowd to the door.
The bouncer was still unconscious outside,but the crowd that continued to step over him didn't seem to be too concerned about it.Some of them must have recognized him as the guy who put the bouncer down,though,because this crowd seemed to part for him easily.
He started wandering down the dark streets of London,wondering what he was going to do now.This was completely stupid;he didn't remember anything else,he had no game plan.He went in completely blind,just because he needed to get out of Xavier's before he killed someone.
He thought he was moving towards the heart of the city,but he really didn't know.Shuttered,grimy shops gave way to blocks of row house,depressing enough alone in their uniformity,but all seemed to be dirt smeared and crumbling in the same way,like identical rotting teeth.And even though the pedestrian traffic had thinned to zero,he got a sense for a while that he was being watched and followed.He found himself hoping that some dumb ass would try and mug him-that would burn off some steam,and brighten the evening-but he must have chickened out,because soon he seemed to disappear.
He almost went for his cell phone,but he couldn't admit to Bob
this was a mistake,not yet.He had to give it a chance, see if anything came
back along the way.He searched his pockets for a cigar,and felt the cold,tiny
figure of the elephant in his front pocket.He belatedly wondered exactly
what Bob meant by "limits the effect of entropy in a very small area".
Colonel Gene Harris nodded,taking the photo of Wolverine back from the bartender."Haven't seen him since?"
The man shook his head,making his thinning,greasy strands of grey hair flop around his waxy scalp like soggy pasta."I don't think he's a real sociable type of guy."
"That's an understatement,"Harris noted,tucking the photo back in his coat pocket.
He was happy to leave the grim honky tonk bar,and had to admit the thought of a Wolverine hunt had brought to mind images of chasing that bastard to ground,not canvassing seedy bars for any sign of him.
Once outside,he paused by his SUV to light up a cigarette.Okay,so,in four hours he had hit twenty bars,and twelve had been visited by Logan within the last two weeks or so-three bartenders weren't completely sure.So he was in the area, presumably,but none of the scout teams had reported positive on a visual.They were all dressed in civilian clothes too, in case Logan spotted them first,but so far he was either hiding,or he hadn't started his drinking binge for the night.But it was starting to get late;if he wanted to attempt to get sloshed,he was running behind.
He was joined at the black truck by Major David Delaney,who had been checking out a bar on the next block over.He was a string bean of a man,tall and lanky,with quick growing thick black hair that never seemed to hold a haircut longer than two days,even though,conversely,he could not grow a beard on his baby face to save his life.Delaney looked uncomfortable in his civilian casual wardrobe of jeans,a button down tan shirt,and black canvas jacket,but Delaney was one of those men who always looked vaguely uncomfortable,no matter the place or what he was wearing,like his underwear was constantly riding up on him."Nothing?"Harris asked,exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke into the still, unseasonably warm night air.
Delaney shook his head,leaning against the back of the truck."He hadn't even been there,according to the bartender. This sucks. Do you think Logan was tipped off?"
"I don't see how."But he had thought that,hadn't he?
He had the radio tuned to the police band frequency,listening for any mention of a bar fight,but so far nothing was happening beyond your average domestic disturbances and gunshots fired.
Well,how many more bars did they have to hit in the area?Thirty?Who knew this part of Upstate New York had so many bars?
"Are you the guys looking for Wolverine?"A female voice asked,from out of a darkened alley across from them.
With astonishingly good reflexes,Delaney drew his sidearm and aimed it in the direction of the voice before she sauntered out of the mouth of the alley.It was a petite,good looking woman with shoulder length honey blonde hair, wearing a form fitting crimson dress and painfully high heeled shoes in a matching shade of blood red,and seeing the Walther PPK in Delaney's hand only made her laugh.
"You can put that away,sugar,"she drawled casually."It won't do you any good anyways."
Her make up was a little restrained for a hooker,but certainly she had the hip swinging walk down pat.Delaney didn't lower the gun,and Harris eyed her up and down-there was nowhere for her to hide a weapon with a dress that tight and tiny:she wasn't even carrying a purse."Who wants to know?"
"Someone who wants that son of a bitch dead too."
"What did he do to you,honey?"
She scowled at the use of the word honey."He helped kill a bunch of my friends.Well,okay,not friends,but people who owe me money,and he trashed my favorite club.Either way,that's just unforgiveable."
"And we're just supposed to believe this?"Delaney asked scornfully."You could be one of his mutant buddies for all we know."
Harris didn't bother to add he wasn't sure Logan had any friends,as that would be counterproductive.
The blonde woman glared at them both,and suddenly her face changed:her azure eyes became yellow,while her brow seemed to come forward,wrinkle and making her eyebrows disappear in the folds of flesh,while her perfect teeth became suddenly sharp and jagged,as if she had too many for so small a mouth."Do I look like a mutant to you?"She asked sarcastically.
Delaney looked horrified,and seemed to be about to answer in the affirmative,when Harris reached across and lowered his weapon for him."Put that away,"he ordered."She's a vampire-it won't do anything but annoy her."
"A vampire?"Delaney asked in shock,obviously hoping he was kidding.
But he wasn't-far from it-and the woman smiled,her face reverting from vampire to normal cherubic human face."I'm glad you're not as dumb as you look."
He gave her a hard smile,but he didn't mean it.If she was willing to help him find Wolverine,well,terrific.
But even he wasn't stupid enough to completely trust a demon.
It was the third night in a row he could not sleep,and he knew if it kept up he'd have to talk to his doctor about it.But when your doctor was your fiancee,things got a little weird.
Scott listened carefully at the door before stepping out into the darkened hallway,bare feet quiet on the wooden floor. Now he knew he had heard something,and he was sure it wasn't Logan,because he was (thankfully) gone.The bad news was Bob came to deliver that information,but even though Xavier invited him to stay for a bit,he said he had business in California,and Scott couldn't say he was unhappy to have Logan-and now bothersome Bob-gone.
Of course,the fact that Logan had trusted Bob and not them with a memory of his past seemed to bother everyone,but not him.That was just typical of Logan,wasn't it?After all they had done for him,he remained distrustful.Ungrateful bastard.
Scott was surprised at Bob's claim that Logan didn't kill all those people.Maybe Bob was protecting Logan,but why? Because Bob was a mysterious loon with his own agenda.And,sexually hyperactive girlfriend aside,he just bet Bob had some kind of crush on Logan,and wasn't that a hilarious thought?But that just begged the question why a guy as good looking as Bob didn't have better taste,or at least aim higher.The world was too strange by half.
Padding down the hall,he thought he saw the door to one of the girl's rooms ajar,and he had a sinking feeling who had snuck out this time.Carefully,he peeked inside,and confirmed it:Rogue's room.And she was obviously gone.
She'd just gotten past the 'parole' she'd been put on for the last time she had sneaked out in the middle of the night. That girl was trouble,and since she had absorbed Logan twice,he was fully prepared to blame him for it.
But as he stood in the open door of the dark room,he pondered what he thought he had heard.It was a blunt noise like a door closing,but not in the mansion,not that close,and not wooden.It was like...a car door.
Oh no,she didn't.She better not have.
Scott rushed to the garage,which still had low level emergency lighting on even at this time of night,and his suspicions were confirmed:Rogue had taken a car.Her car thieving ways continued.
All the way back to his room,he muttered to himself,"This is Logan's fault."It really didn't matter if it was or wasn't,it was just nice to blame Logan for something.But he was pretty sure Rogue had never stolen a car before Logan- coincidence?Of course,of things Logan was capable of doing,car theft was probably the best you could hope for.
He dressed quickly and quietly,trying not to wake Jean,and he
managed not to:at least she was a pretty heavy sleeper.
When he got in his car and started the engine,he pulled something about the size and shape of a palm pilot out of the glove compartment,but it was not a PDA.It was a little sensor gadget,with GPS technology,that read the tracking devices in each of the vehicles here on the grounds.It was a safety measure,in case something happened to someone on the outside,but this also allowed them to find them if they ever got stolen (his bike-now Logan's bike-used to have one, but Logan had somehow found it and removed it).And now,according to it,the car Rogue had taken was about eleven miles away,in the nearest 'big' town,and for some reason he thought the street location sounded familiar.He sat there in his dark car,the interior only lit by the engine lights,and tried to recall where he'd heard the address before.
He was pretty sure there was a clothing shop on Spalding Avenue that Storm liked to go to,but he knew it wouldn't be open this late.So what else-
-oh shit,a bar.He had to be wrong,he had to be.
If he wasn't..."Oh Logan,I'm gonna kill you for this,"he promised,throwing the scanner on the passenger seat and gunning the engine.
This place obviously skewed young,as there didn't appear to be anyone over twenty five in the small crowd that dispersed like a cloud of dandelion fluff,drifting off to cars so nice they had to belong to their parents.He was half way across the dark lot,no one giving his 'weird glasses' a second glance (well,that confirmed they were in no shape to drive),when he saw a figure staggering out of the green neon limned doorway,almost collapsing under the weight of a second person partially draped over them.Then he could hear the voice of a woman with a very nasal Long Island accent,speaking in a loud and slurred manner as if extremely drunk:"-so then I said I said I don want no trouble, you know,but then that bitch,you know the one I'm talkin' about,with the bad perm and the big ass-"
Scott had moved a foot closer when he realized it was Rogue rambling on in a drunken manner;it was Kitty struggling to hold her up.
"What the hell,"he exclaimed,racing to her side to help her before they both collapsed in a heap in front of the club. "How did she get drunk so fast?"But as soon as he asked,he knew the answer.
Kitty,a slight brunette with large brown eyes,gave him a very guilty look."It was an accident,Mr. Summers,but I'm glad you're here.I never realized she's so heavy-or I'm so weak."
He took the burden of Rogue off of her,careful not to touch any of Rogue's skin,but there wasn't much of that exposed. At least she'd had the sense to sneak out with her gloves and a long sleeved duster on,in spite of the warmth of the night.Rogue didn't seem to notice he was holding her up instead of Kitty.Her monologue went on non-stop."-but since when was that my fuckin' fault?I didn't know he was her ex-husband,it wasn't like he had a tag stamped on his ass 'Kimber's Property-Keep your skanky hands off'-"
"What is she talking about?"He asked.
Kitty shrugged helplessly."We were in the bathroom,and this drunk woman just barreled in,and she collided with us.I phased out,so she went right through me,but I didn't grab Rogue in time,and they made contact.Not for long,but just long enough for Rogue to pick up her drunkenness and her monologue."
"I was afraid of that.How's the woman?"
"She seemed a little stunned,and forgot what she was saying,but wasn't sober enough to know what happened."
"Well,thank goodness for small favors."