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
Shameless Webpage Plug: https://www.angelfire.com/scifi/addielogan
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…"
Vietnam
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?"
"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.
"Peachy."
"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.
Prague
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."
"Yeah?"
"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."
"Wolvie?"
"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?"
"Cute."
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.
"Hey."
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."
"Oh."
"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."
"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.
Berlin
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.
"Huh?"
"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.
"Oh."
"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."
"No."
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?"
"No."
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…"
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?
"Victor?"
"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.
Russia
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."