pryde_and_grit | Those long, cold November evenings...

Those long, cold November evenings...

Victor snagged his coat and stormed down the halls of the heli-fortress. He'd never tell anyone, but he really hated living up in the air. Having his feet off the ground made him edgy all the time...

Misery had come by to 'see' him before leaving for the SHIELD summit. They were held once a year, all the leaders and their team captains had to attend. Two weeks alone, from Thanksgiving to mid-December. And she always made sure that he knew what he'd be missing. Damn, it been years now and he still shook with need every time she touched him.

So here it was, down time again, and he'd be alone...

...well, mostly alone. "Yo, Runt!" he snarled when he made it to the team housing hall. "Wakey wakey, I need a buddy else I don't get to leave!"

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"Because I can't kill and having you around pisses me." he admitted honestly. "Figured if you got your head straight you'd remember where you're suppose to be."

He sat on his bike heavily and started up, eager to get into decent clothes. "Besides, it'll be funny to watch you trying to shake SHIELD."

"Vic, I didn't know ya cared." Logan drawled sardonically.

Logan got onto his own bike and started it up.

"Wouldn't happen ta know where it is that I'm supposed ta be, wouldja?"

"Logan, if I knew I'd make damn sure to forget quick." he sighed grimly. "If you've got outside ties SHIELD ain't going to play nice. They aim to keep you." and they had the power to play very, very mean.

"I don't fancy waking up gutted one morning 'cause I accidentally handed them your old life. I prefer gutting after coffee at least." that said he was headed out again. He had a storage unit with his camping gear and Logans. They'd get clothes at a thrift store.

"So you ain't so dumb after all," Logan smirked, following Victor.

Victor was right though, whatever he had away from SHIELD he'd have to find out himself, and keep it from them. They weren't the type to let go easy.

"I only have to use small words around you runt." The store was only 30 minutes away. Thank gnd, sweats felt weird on a bike.

"Help yovrself"

Logan found himself a couple spare sets of clothes, which was more than enough for him.

While picking out things he wondered what they were doing. If this was going to work, if he was going to be able to remember whatever the hell he'd forgotten, what his chances were of getting away and getting back whatever he'd lost when he was away from SHIELD.

It wasn't going to be easy, he knew that much at least.

Victor figured it was fifty-fifty if the runt would remember anything useful. Good enough odds. The cashier was kind enough to let them change there, and that made a hell of an improvement.

"Gear now...then bars. Bet I can maim more yokels than you can on the way up to camp."

"Yer on, bub."

The ride was great. The fresh air, the wind and open road all had a feeling of freedom that Logan had been craving without realizing he was. The longer he was out and away, the more he realized just how much he was being controlled by Misery and SHIELD, and the more he realized it the more it pissed him off.

The first bar was a bust, being it was an odd hour. Just lushes and the less-than-subtle waitress that wore to much make up.

The second bar was 'owmed' by a bike gang. Best stress relief in existence! "Shit..." Victor laughed as he eyed the place "It feels like Christmas. Dibs on the black roadbike." yes, he might have planned this.

And the group just might remember the last time he'd been through...

Those that remembered had to be thrilled that he brought a companion along.

The scent of smoke, beer, leather and sweat were familiar and stirred something in Logan's memories. He gave a feral grin to the group then ordered a beer.

Drinks first, then fighting. If they wouldn't serve him they'd skip straight to fighting and have a beer when the place was cleaned out.

Vic grinned at the lot, smile sharp and feral. His teeth were never a comfortable thing to see in full array. That caused some nervous shifting in the patrons, but the bartender did start pulling two beers off the keg after a brief caress of the shotgun under the wooden tabletop. Money was money after all.

It was the idiots in the corner that seemed to object. "Don't be serving that trash our booze..." one of the men at the table called.

"I love small towns," Logan said to Victor, picking up his mug once it was poured. "You can always count on there bein' at least one guy stupid enough ta start a fight."

"It's definitely the inbreeding." Victor agreed, loudly, right at the corner of the bar. "Or maybe they believe that whole 'strength in numbers' shit...hope public schools ain't pushing that again, it's a load of shit." he swigged his own beer, then slid a credit card to the bar tender with a grin.

It was a company card.

SHIELD was good for the damages.

Logan watched the card slide over then nodded to the bartender.

"Gimme a bottle a whiskey, don't matter which one long as it's good."

Kicking back at the counter Logan continued the loud conversation with Vic.

"Yeah, inbreedin', paint chips an' powerlines, there's plenty of reasons small towns are fulla dumb asses."

The bartender was actually really happy to see that card. He didn't mind fights when the damages didn't come out of his pockets...and the bikers never coughed up for their shit. Logan's whiskey was on the house...and came down, dusty, off the top shelf. He could let that aged bottle go just to see the bikers get their asses kicked cost-free.

"Shot, forgot about those pain chips. Way out here they still got that lead based shit don't they? Damn, I almost feel sorry for people growing up here." people from small towns were also notoriously proud of that fact. Vic could practically hear the bristling. "So, let's make a list..." he swung about on his bar stool to face the corner and lean back against the bar comfortably.

"One..." he held up a finger "Repaint your houses. Lead free for the future. Two..." another finger "Power lines and electric fences aren't fun toys. You need the jolt lick a battery. And finally...she may be easy meat, but no fucking your sister, cousin, or mother."

That got the whole table standing. Victor figured things were going well.

Logan gave the bartender a nod and smirk then made a show of savoring the booze in front of the bikers.

"Might wanna add farm animals to the end of that list." He took a drink then continued, "An' have yer ladies lay off the smokes an' booze when they're knocked up, too."

"Yeah, but farm animals usually don't carry to term, and I don't want to overload their brains with the first lesson." Vic tipped his glass back and finished his beer with a smirk. "Though...dunno, they kinda smell like sheep." he offered after a deep, obvious sniff.

"You're gonna be taking that back, boys. All of it." the 'leader' finally spoke, cracking his knuckles loudly as the group drifted forward. "We don't like your jaws flappin like that."

Logan had another shot then cracked his neck, eyeing the man in front of the group.

"Don't much care for yer face myself. How 'bout you try an' take care of the one, an' I'll handle the other. We'll see who fixes who."

Victor slumped back against the bar just a little more bonelessly, too amused by Logan's challenge to go for the man himself. He'd start playing when the other boys poked their noses in. After all, there were a lot more bars after this one...and besides, it meant he could snag some of Logan's whiskey.

"Says the man who looks like my granny's old coat after the moths got at it." the man snorted. "And you're hinting we like farm animals too much."

"I'll bet ya can call your granny you're auntie, cousin an' step-sister, too, huh?"

"My granny my...wha?" he seemed to get lost in the connections there. One would think Logan had just explained the concept of him being his own grandpa or something...

"You know, you're a smart ass. Bet you're from the city." he snarled, recovering his equilibrium. "I hate city boys." he swung.

Finally.

Logan was about to give up on the trash talking, something he wasn't particularly fond of or great at, and just deck the guy, but the man finally threw a punch so Logan had the satisfaction of ducking the punch, and clocking the guy.

There was stunned silence for a moment, one of their lead head bangers going down with one hit was kind of surprising to see, but the group as a whole wasn't that bright. Sure, Jeb was down...

...that just meant they needed weapons right?

Vic was just fine seeing them go for chairs and bottles, even the few knives...but he quietly gutted the one man dumb enough to pull a gun.

Guns were dangerous. They killed innocent barmen.

Logan gave the gang a moment to arm themselves, then charged.

He wouldn't use claws for this, not unless things got really ugly. For now fists and feet would be enough.

"That's right Runt, work that anger out." Victor kicked his feet up on one of the comatose bodies and lit a cigarette. "Fucking work shrinks don't know shit." he remarked conversationally to the bartender.

"They're all 'cut 'im open, stick this in his head, he'll feel better in the mornin.' Me? I say cut other guys you know? And whiskey. Whiskey is great medicine. Oh, duck man." he reached out to drag the bartender over just in case the man's reflexes weren't quick enough.

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