Categories > Movies > X-Men: The Movie > Rise Firebird


by Plutospawn 0 reviews

The other man smirked. "I'm 'bout as Irish as the rest of New Orleans."

Category: X-Men: The Movie - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters: Cyclops, Nightcrawler, Wolverine - Published: 2006-01-03 - Updated: 2006-01-03 - 1397 words

Author's note: The marvelous Phoq helped me with the French.
"Melody, I won't tell you again, do something useful like checking on the mother to be."
Melody ran a hand through her hair. "The other one's there," she said. "I thought you said we were going to do something about her."
"And I told you patience," Essex said. "You can be replaced."
"Oh?" Melody smiled. "You'd be surprised."
"I doubt it," Essex replied. "Now, leave me, I have other pressing business to take care of."
"I'll be back with an update," Melody said. "Is two hours enough time for you?"
"More than enough," Essex said. "Now go."
Melody snorted and slipped through the door. Essex shook his head and turned the lights on. Seated behind him, a younger man had his feet kicked up on a table.
The other man tsked. "Cette femme est un paquet de problemes."
"Her time is coming to a close," Essex replied. "Ignore her."
"Et la femme avec aux cheveux blancs?" he asked.
"Not your problem," Essex said. "I have something better suited to your abilities."
"Oh?" The man chuckled. "Qui est-ce que j'emmerde?"
Essex shook his head. "You have a horrible French accent. In this envelope, I have a plane ticket and instructions. Don't mess up."
It was never in one's best interest to goof off around a cliff. A full out life and death brawl was much less desired. For the man who was inducted into the X-Men after tap dancing on Lady Liberty's head, he was more annoyed with himself than his attacker.
"Should've seen that coming," Logan grunted.
"So, you're not denying anything?" Tears or the glint of Scott preparing another attack, Logan couldn't tell. But he sure as hell wouldn't take a chance.
"Deny what?" Logan demanded as he dove, claws unsheathed at Scott. "You've got a messed up way of talking, Summers."
Scott hit the other man mid-lunge with an optic blast. "I am sick and tired of putting up with your crap."
"My crap?" Logan wiped blood from a healing wound in his shoulder. "You can't even manage to wrench the stick from your ass when you're having a hissy fit."
"I'm dead serious." Another optic blast.
Logan fell flat to the ground, barely dodging the enraged shot. "I can see that," he muttered. "You going to explain yourself or am I going to stop going easy on you?"
"You won't be able to get within five feet of me and you know it," Scott said.
Logan shrugged as he leapt to his feet. "I always liked a challenge."
"I bet," Scott snarled. "She was my fiancee!"
With Logan distracted, Scott let off a final, enormous blast. Enveloped in a smoldering wave of red, Logan was flung off the cliff. Scott watched with gritted teeth.
Logan reappeared in a cloud of sulfur, brimstone and obscenties. Kurt was standing behind him. The blue furred mutant brushed Logan's shirt off and shot Scott a glance.
"I did not expect to see you here, Scott," Kurt said.
Logan stalked towards Scott and decked him. "What the hell is wrong with you."
Scott moved to attack him again, but Kurt intervened, teleporting the Wolverine to a fair distance. "What is going on?" the German asked.
"That's what I want to know," Logan replied.
Scott just shook his head and turned around. As he began to walk away, he called hotly over his shoulder, "Jean's in Cairo. Pregnant. Maybe you should go see her."
"Pregnant?" Kurt exclaimed.
"Hey!" Logan hollared. "What the hell do you think you're implying?"
"What do you think I'm implying?" Scott kneaded the bridge of his nose. "Damn it!"
"Logan!" Kurt exclaimed. "Did you?"
"Don't you get involved in this, Elf," Logan snapped. He stormed over to Scott. "What did I tell you?" What the hell did I tell you right after Alkali Lake?"
"I know what you told me," Scott growled. "But I know the kid's not mine. Should I assume it was an immaculate conception?"
"You know, I took you for a lot of things, One-eye," Logan said. "But I never took you for a damn idiot. You just got to prove me wrong, don't you?"
"What the hell am I supposed to think?" Scott demanded.
"That you got played for a fool," Logan replied. "I'll say this once and if you question me again, I'll gut you. Jean is a good woman. Jean did not sleep with me."
"Yeah?" Scott sniffed. "Whose is it, then? Kurt's?"
Logan moved to slug him again. Kurt teleported Scott a few feet away.
"Stop this, both of you!" Kurt pleaded. "Your fighting will accomplish nothing."
"Everything was fine until you came along and ruined it!" Scott accused.
"Keep telling yourself that, kiddo, if it helps you sleep at night," Logan shot back.
"Enough!" Kurt hollared. "You two are team mates. Friends."
"Yeah, we're just the best of pals, aren't we, Logan?" Scott's voice had an acidic bite to it.
"I don't care what you think of me, pal," Logan said. "But I'll kill you if you ever think to bad talk the lady."
Scott turned around and stalked towards the facility.
"That did not go well," Kurt murmured.
"Piss on Summers," Logan muttered as he pulled out a cigar. "He doesn't deserve her."
"Logan," Kurt began. "The child, it's not--"
"No." Logan puffed as he lit the cigar.
"Then who--"
"Don't know," Logan replied. "But I don't like it."
Inside the facility, Scott was listless. He absently played with the forming bruise where Logan had hit him. The feral mutant's words kept boiling in Scott's ears. "Jean is a good woman." Logan had a point. But the fact that it had to come from Logan and the fact that the other man had said with obvious adoration and love brimming over his voice only further tightened the knot in Scott's stomach.
"He should have just hit me again," Scott muttered. "It would have felt better."
It had been years since Scott had last been on the Muir Island facility. An awkward teen then, he and Jean had been working as assistants to Dr. MacTaggert and Hank. Hank had just graduated a year early and was smug as hell, Moira was frantic about her patient, Kevin.
That was all in the past. Scott was a man now, of course, his recent actions could have proved otherwise. He pulled a fist back to hit the wall, thought better of it and resumed kneading the bridge of his nose. To have worked so hard for so many years to risk throwing it away in a moment of confused passion was stupid at best.
Scott decided he needed Twinkies. And maybe a beer. He needed Hank.
He headed down the corridors of the facility towards Moira's office. Moira wasn't there, but a younger man was behind her desk. The man brushed a tousled wave of auburn hair back as he gave Scott a smirk.
"Excuse me?" Scott said. "I'm looking for Hank. Or Moira. Is either one around?"
The other man shook his head, a hint of amusement in his red eyes.
Despite his hackles rising, Scott forced a smile and held out his hand. "I don't believe we've met," he said. "I'm Scott Summers. You must be Sean Cassidy."
"You got me." The other man took Scott's hand and shook it. "Pleasure to meet you."
A genial smile on his face a casual, friendly handshake. Scott tightened his grip on the other man's hand. The other man frowned.
"Sean Cassidy's Irish," Scott said. "Born and raised in County Mayo. Who are you, kid?"
"A shame," he muttered.
A bo staff. The kid had it tucked behind his trenchcoat. That's why Scott hadn't initially seen it. Of course, that didn't matter, as Scott only saw the weapon moments before the stranger cracked it across his head.
Scott stumbled back, but his attacker still had a firm grip on his hand. The auburn haired man hopped and slid across Moira's desk to join Scott. Scott's temple throbbed, if he could blink away the black spots in his vision, he'd be able to properly defend himself instead of just punching out with his free hand.
The other man smirked. "I'm 'bout as Irish as the rest of New Orleans."
Blackness enveloped Scott as he was hit with the bo staff again.
Sign up to rate and review this story