capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

(no subject)

WHO: Selina & Logan
WHERE: Selina's apt
WHEN: Tonight!
SUMMARY: Everyone has a bad day but mostly Logan.
WARNINGS: Will update if needed!
FORMAT: Whatev!

She had spent the day at home. There was a lot to think about after the meeting with Winner. Was lion boy really just under cover with his whole betrayal act? Did that even matter after he brutally murdered an innocent girl?

She'd probably still go on patrol later. It would help clear her head. But for now, she stayed in her apartment, wrapped in a light robe. Sipping tea and pondering.

She wasn't used to making these kinds of decisions. Didn't like them.

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Getting drunk with a healing factor was tough. Getting into a high-rise apartment complex in the nice end of town when you were (seemingly) drunk, bloodied, and covered in broken glass, was tougher.

The security in Selina's building had long since become used to Logan's occasional visits. Used to, but not comfortable with. They weren't stupid. They kept their eye on him, much as you might keep your eye on a dog which has a tendency to growl and show its teeth, and tonight their fears were realised.

Logan glowered up at the man blocking his way (the other guard on duty having already gone to call Ms. Kuttler). There was partially dried blood on his cheek and down one side of his neck, as if he'd been cut, but no wound. More blood on his shirt, which was torn in two or three places. He had an open bottle of beer in one red-speckled hand.

"You're gonna regret this, bub."

When Selina got the call that her "male friend" was causing trouble downstairs, she repressed a sigh and headed downstairs. They liked her here, or at least her money. But they didn't think she was too bright. And a bit eccentric, what with the leopard. But the deposit she'd put down for him was apparently enough that they didn't so much mind the possibility of having to clean up her body someday after the big mean kitty mauled the nice but dumb lady.

When she stepped out of the elevator, she took in the tableau before storming over. "You poor dear!" she cooed in her best impression of a high society dimwit, "were you mugged again? I told you to be more careful when coming over here, some people are just brutes after dark. And this," she plucked the beer out of his hand, "isn't going to get you your wallet back." She handed the beer to the guard who had been blocking Logan's path. "Please be a dear and make sure that's recycled?"

"Now," she turned back to Logan, "let's get you upstairs and cleaned up and we can go file a police report in the morning, all right?" She shot a glare at both guards, as if they were partially to blame for harassing her poor dear injured friend.

She led the way to the elevator, keeping up the act until the doors closed behind them. "I hope the bar looks worse than you do," she finally said once they were alone.

Logan kept quiet throughout Selina's dumb broad routine, more for her sake than his own, and followed her in dutiful but sullen silence to the elevator. Once inside, he moved to lean back against one of the walls and closed his eyes against the glare of the overhead lights. That's what he got for running his healing factor into the ground: sober in two hours and a pounding headache. Goddamn.

"You oughta see the guy who started it," he growled, opening one eye to look at her.

Once they reach her apartment, Selina digs out her biggest mug and pours him a steaming cup of tea. She sits and just looks at him.

"What happened, Logan?" Maybe their camping trip hadn't done him as much good as she thought. Or the peace of it had just worn off a bit too fast.

Logan, hunkered over on the couch, rubbed a hand across his face. His palm came away bloody, and he looked down at it for a moment in silence before responing to Selina's question.

"Domino came back from home. It ain't," he breathed out a sigh, knotting his fingers behind his neck and lowering his head, "we ain't doin' so well over there."

On second thought.... Selina went and snagged an old hand towel from the closet. Something for him to mop up the blood.

"What did she tell you?" she asked, once she was seated again. She sipped her own cup of tea, her favorite jasmine blend.

Logan took the towel and sniffed it out of habit. He rubbed it roughly over his cheek and his neck, then tossed it onto the coffee table. He made no move to pick up his own mug of tea, but he appreciated the smell of it, calming what was left of the red anger that had blotted out most of the last four or so hours.

"Kurt's dead." The words tasted bitter and wrong in his mouth. He scowled, and looked away from Selina.

The words hit Selina like a shock of cold water. For a long moment, she sat silent.

Damnit. She liked Kurt. Frankly, it was hard not to. And she'd upset him with her last conversation, she knew...

"Kitty was told she was dead and then that she wasn't," she finally said. "And I just heard from home that Batman..." Her voice lightened the slightest bit. "He's not dead. I visited his grave..."

She looked up at Logan. "Seems like more and more, you can't know these things for sure."

Edited 2010-05-30 18:56 (UTC)

Logan grunted, not quite dismissing her words but coming close enough. He stood up, walking across the room to the nearest window. He needed something to look at. Something to think about besides the smell of blood on his shirt and the ache in his guts and his head. The view of the City isn't a mountain forest in the cool light of dawn, but it serves the same principle.

People dying a world away. Ought to be used to it by now. Funny how these things work.

For a long moment, Selina just sat there. She wasn't particularly good at this sort of thing. Hell, he was probably better at it, considering the times he'd managed to be there for her.

Finally, she set her cup of tea down and walked over to where he stood. Her arms curled around him, she rested her chin on his shoulder, and still she didn't say a word.

Logan reached up to take her hands, holding them against his chest. By now the rage that'd kept him going most of the night had mostly drained away, replaced by a bone-deep tiredness. Times like this all he wanted to do was light out for somewhere cold and wild and quiet, like an animal fleeing the scent of smoke on the wind.

After a little while he cleared his throat and spoke, his voice a low rumble.

"I hope you're right, darlin'." He turned his head, the tip of his nose skating across her cheek. "I hope to God you're right."

Selina's fingers tightened around his. "Yeah. Me too," she murmured. Funny how the world kept trying to turn her into an optimist.

Her eyes were on the cityscape for a long, silent moment. Finally, she gave him a gentle tug away from the window. "C'mon. Nice long shower."

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