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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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.

It felt good to be moving, to be fighting and getting a workout that wasn't for the job. This was his own thing and not some mission. He wasn't under orders, there wasn't a target, it was just good ol' fashion bar room brawling fun.

He might even thank Victor later.

Yeah...and Vic was packing away scotch with the bartender. Why not? This bar was for Logan. He'd hit the next one. Next meaning 'when Logan didn't need it' of course. Logan...was under a lot more pressure than Vic right now after all.

"And don't even get me started with the work cooks man. The flunked outta McDonalds." he continued rambling at the stunned bartender while applying kicks to the footstool that was trying to wiggle away.

The fighting was great. There was plenty of yokels and they were all too stupid to give up even after so many of them had been taken out.

He could see Victor over at the counter chatting with the bartender and vaguely remembered doing this same thing with someone else. Hitting bars and having a brawl, then settling in for drinks after before the cops showed up.

He tried hard to picture who he'd been with but couldn't grasp the faint memory hard enough to make it clear. A stool cracking over the back of his head didn't help much and he turned, snagged the guy, and pitched him through a window.

"Woo...shit, looks like something just got personal. 'Scuse me." Vic slipped off his stool to go make sure the yokel with a chair stayed down. He'd seen the look on Logan's face, something had been there...

...and then the idiot.

Best course of action was to knock the idiot out before Logan killed him.

He was a heartbeat away from popping his claws and gutting the guy when Victor stepped in.

"I was handlin' him," Logan snarled before turning and delivering a gut punch to another guy.

He was running out of people so he took his time with the last few.

"You drink all that whiskey?" He asked after dropping the last unconcious body.

"Yeah, but I don't want my trip cut short by bad behavior." Vic snorted, then dumped the newest footrest by his stool.

"That good whiskey or the crap stuff we're down to now?"

Logan settled onto a stool beside Victor and cracked his knuckles.

"I wanted the good stuff, but if there ain't any left I'll take whatever. Hey, bub, you got any pretzels?"

He looked at the bartender while leaning against the counter.

"Don't get all worked up again. Yer bottle is still on the table...maybe. Where's the table." the bartender fished under the bar for a bag.

"Hey, there's a diner down the road. Bet we can get real burgers."

Logan looked around and saw the table smashed to kindling with the bottle laying on its side beside it.

"Aw, shit."

Hopping down from his stool Logan stooped to pick up the bottle and smirked.

"There's still plenty left. Burger would be great, get some a'them steak fries, too."

"Well there you go, your lucky day an shit." Victor wiped his boots on his footstool then stood. "Thanks for the booze."

The diner down the road was an honest to god greasy spoon. Good old american food.

Logan finished the bottle then gave a nod to the bartender as they headed out.

The smell of the diner got an honest to god smile from him.

"Hell, I might even enjoy this more than the bar."

"And thats what 'vacations' are all about." Vic grinned and pulled open the door. "Enjoying every god damn thing you do." he felt like he could eat the whole menu by this point.

"Unless you're a tourist, then it's all abnut making an idiot of yourself."

Logan nodded and stepped inside.

"Yep. Ya gotta wonder what folks like that are like at home."

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