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Oh, What A Night; Late the night before the Big Event
Topic Started: May 5 2012, 01:47 PM (386 Views)
Cannonball
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X-Force
Sam was heartened by the fact that Kitty seemed to like this plan. When he had suggested to Roberto hours ago, it was hours ago? That the bachelor party was a Very Bad Idea due to the participants, he had been called a stick in the mud and a prude and things had been thrown at him. Which was par for the course with Roberto. Her earnest nodding and shifting coser made him glad that he was not alone in his opinions.

"Never, ever again," she agreed solemnly, crossing her heart with her sandwich, because she'd forgotten she was holding it. "Or singing. They can't sing anymore, either. And they can't bring anymore feathered strippers from space."

It really proved that Roberto was a dirty traitor. Sam wondered for a minute where he had gotten himself too and if maybe he had gotten himself lost or passed out somewhere when Kitty responded to his comment about X-Force.


"X-Force is scary?" Pausing, she thought about that a little and conceded, "Well, Cable looks a little scary, but I think that's the big metal arm." Then, giving him a look of trepidation, she added, "He doesn't sing, does he?"

Sam nearly spit out his sandwich and tried to get the mental image of tough, mysterious Cable singing out of his head. It wouldn't budge. He needed a non drunk telepath to take care of this for him and he doubted it.

"No. God, no, no singing from Cable. Everyone else though, yeah. And just, there ain't a ton of...I suppose common sense is the best word for it," Sam said, thinking on his team. "I don't mean to say they're all...There's just not a lot o' forethought put into things."

Aside from Sam. Which is why he was officially dubbed a stick in the mud when he was dragging Tabby, Roberto, Ric and Shatterstar out of places rather having them get arrested for being drunk and disorderly and all manner of chaos. Having to close Tabby's hand around a bomb and convince Shatterstar that he cold not, in any terms, carry swords into a bar was par for the course.

"Until you've had to try and disarm hotheaded drunken mutants in a bar... well, it ain't pretty."

Which was why Sam didn't usually get this drunk. There was almost always a problem to solve. Like why his chair seemed to be sliding. Sam took a grip on the counter just to be safe.
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Shadowcat
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Immaterial Girl
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Cable. Singing. Kitty could totally understand how that might make X-Force scary. Even more scary than dealing with his big, metal arm. Which, really, wasn't all that scary once she thought about it a little.

Peter had big metal arms, and legs, and other parts, and he wasn't scary.

Nodding to herself at this chain of logic she'd managed to piece together, the brunette took a sip of her coffee and wondered idly if Peter had met the alien strippers. Though she couldn't exactly remember why just now, leaving the big Russian alone with alien girls seemed like a bad idea...

Sam seemed to be having trouble with his sandwich, she noticed. Or maybe it was still the idea of Cable singing. "No. God, no, no singing from Cable. Everyone else though, yeah. And just, there ain't a ton of...I suppose common sense is the best word for it," Sam said, thinking on his team. "I don't mean to say they're all...There's just not a lot o' forethought put into things."

Yep, it was the singing. Definitely. And apparently some team not-thinking.

Kitty pondered the rest for a second, then nodded again, tilting over a little (which was totally the room's fault, since it was still doing that spin-y thing, she was just compensating), and kind of leaning against Sam's shoulder. There. Sam wasn't all spinny, probably because he was holding the counter and making it stop, that was better.

"Like Rachel," the slender girl ventured, because Rachel didn't always think about stuff before she did it. But that was ok, because it was Rachel. And she was fun. And she almost never destroyed anything permanently or anything. "But it usually works out ok. And she does really good bodyshots." Because she did.

Had she said that already, though? Kitty thought she might have, but then shrugged it off, since it was still true.

"Until you've had to try and disarm hotheaded drunken mutants in a bar... well, it ain't pretty." Kitty frowned at that, looking a little confused. He'd been to a bar with Moira?

But then she remembered that Moira wasn't a mutant, so that probably didn't count, and even Pete usually didn't need disarming. He liked the bars too much to set them on fire.

So Kitty patted Sam's arm again in sympathy, nodding seriously. "That would suck," she agreed, adding after another second's thought, "You should come to the bar with us sometime. Pete's always bell...bel'igrant," Stupid word that she knew but wouldn't let her say it, "but that doesn't count, and Moira and Rahne table dance. It's lots better."

Something in there wasn't exactly right, but Kitty couldn't quite grasp exactly what it was, and it was close enough, she was sure.
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Kitty patted his arm and Sam realized Kitty had practically crawled into his lap. He put his arm that wasn't clutching the edge of the marble surface to maybe stabilize them both. "That would suck," she agreed, adding after another second's thought, "You should come to the bar with us sometime. Pete's always bell...bel'igrant," Stupid word that she knew but wouldn't let her say it, "but that doesn't count, and Moira and Rahne table dance. It's lots better."

Sam could hear the snap in his own brain. There was a silence that was only marred by a bit of crackling static-y white noise. He let go of the counter and brought his hand to his forehead to try and sort through the clouds that were forming.

Then, suddenly, the whole world tipped sideways and he got the distinct impression he was falling. Within a second he felt the floor beneath him. Kitty landed on top of him, his arm still around her waist. It took him a moment of staring at the ceiling to figure out what had even happened.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean t'..." His brain wouldn't clear. He was apologizing for....for...The counter seemed so far away. They fell. That was it. They fell. He peered a little closer at Kitty. "You okay?" Sam asked, starting to sit them both up.

Why had he let go of the counter? The image of Rahne standing on a table, dancing flashed inside his head again, but her usual, rather conservative clothing had been replaced by one of Tabby's clubbing outfits. He couldn't quite make it make any sense or find words to describe it or how he felt.

For a few moments he tried to speak but no words came out. He couldn't figure it all out. Eventually, he got his brain firing and said,,"And my Rahney doesn't dance on tables or chairs or any other objects off the ground." She wouldn't risk falling like they just had. Or being Tabby. She wasn't... It made no sense.
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Kitty could save Sam from the wrongness of naughty, bad teammates and their inappropriate bar behavior. She could do this by having him come out with Excalibur, for their own naughty, inappropriate bar behavior...

All right, that was a little confusing, but she was sure it'd made sense when she'd made the offer. Because with Excalibur it was fun, and ok! And there weren't any swords or time bombs or exploding-ness involved. Usually.

Right!

And Rahne sometimes table danced, which might be something Sam was interested in, since they were friends. She table danced way better than feathery, alien strippers.

Then the room tilted a lot, despite the fact that she was propped against Sam, and dumped them right on the floor. Stupid room. Stupid, tilt-y kitchen.

The brunette landed with an 'Oof' of surprise on what didn't feel exactly like the floor. It was too lumpy. And kind of...Sam shaped. Kitty peered down a little blearily, as the floor that didn't feel like a floor started apologizing.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean t'..." Nope, that really was Sam, even though he was still blurry. She should probably remember to tell him that, in case he wanted to fix it.

"S'okay," Kitty replied, blinking a little and reaching up to pat his shoulder. Because it wasn't his fault the room got all uppity and threw them on the floor. Or she didn't think it was.

"You okay?" Sam asked, starting to sit them both up, which kind of made things go all spinny again, and Kitty held onto him in self defense, shaking her head a little to try to clear it. Oh, that was a bad, bad idea.

"Yeah, 'm okay," she nodded and closed her eyes, trying to stop the tilting, spinning badness that landing on the floor or, actually, on Sam had caused. "But I wish the room would be still. Make it stop."

"And my Rahney doesn't dance on tables or chairs or any other objects off the ground." Sam added, which made her frown, still with her eyes closed, because it didn't make any sense. Wasn't his Rahne the same as her Rahne?

"You got a new Rahne?" Kitty asked, thoroughly confused, "'cause mine definitely table danced. There were witnesses and everything." Pausing for a second, the slender girl added, "But it may be Pete's fault, 'cause he taught her how to drink."

She punctuated that with an emphatic nod, then paused again. Or was that her? Maybe that'd been her, instead of Pete. Whoops.

Her brain wouldn't let her think about it too much, though, because it was trying not to spin with the room. But at least Sam was comfy, and not currently spinning. So she'd just...stay here. Yeah.
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"Yeah, 'm okay," she nodded and closed her eyes, trying to stop the tilting, spinning badness that landing on the floor or, actually, on Sam had caused. "But I wish the room would be still. Make it stop."

Sam nodded and wished he hadn't because the room did a sudden pitch sideways, again. "I'll try and get it to stop spinnin' if you can help me get it to stop tilting. It's like it's trying to buck us out of here."

Sam stuck a hand to the wall, well it wasn't a wall so much as the side of the island in the kitchen. "I won't le'go this time."

"You got a new Rahne?" Kitty asked, thoroughly confused, "'cause mine definitely table danced. There were witnesses and everything." Pausing for a second, the slender girl added, "But it may be Pete's fault, 'cause he taught her how to drink."

Sam shook his head and the world tilted again. "No," Sam insisted once the world righted itself. "I had the original Rahney. You must'a got an' im-im-imp..." His tongue couldn't form around the word. For some reason his mouth was revolting from following any instructions. He eventually decided on, "a fake. You got a fake Rahney."

"Rahney is...Rahney," Sam said, trying to sort it all out. "She likes turtlenecks and the bible and tea and bein' proper and she doesn't drink and she doesn't dance on tables. Tabby dances on tables. Amara would dance on a table or two, maybe even Chief if you got her really drunk. But Rahney? Drink's a sin."

Again, the image was there but it made no sense. Somewhere in his head, Rahne was still the awkward little girl who had joined the team all those years ago. But this... it was like the time the girls had dressed her up and she'd been...

Shit. Sam swallowed heavily.

"Maybe I should have a word with Wisdom," he thought out loud.
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Being the only sober man at a party full of drunk people was usually considered a downside. But not to Logan, not tonight. Mainly because if he didn't take a little bit of satisfaction at seeing everyone making fools of themselves, he was going to kill somebody. And no, not in the funny playacted way. Right now, Logan wanted to be a couple thousand miles away, letting his frustrations out on some elk's jugular. But he couldn't have that. Not when every person in this damn house seemed to have consipired to make him sit through this. To make him watch Jean marry that goddamned.... He stopped that thought there, before the images made him do more than snarl under his breath.

No, he didn't want to be here. So at least he could take some satisfaction out this. There were a couple of people on the team who knew how to drink, but a whole lot more who only thought they could. So throw them some booze, bring in some lady friends he'd made working odd obs as a bouncer, and you had an honest to god party for men. The kind of party that made boyscout wet his diaper. And hopefully make them rush through the ceremony tomorrow so they could nurse their hangovers. They could make Logan stay, they could make him grin and bear it for Jeannie's sake. But they couldn't make him play nice on the night they'd handed to him.

Right now though, he needed another drink. And at the rate the others had been blasting through it, the easiest place to get that was the kitchen. As he approached, Logan's nostrils flared. there was someone in there, which wasn't much of a surprise. The scent was familiar too, pleasantly so. Might as well check up on how Kitty's doing while he's in this part of the house.

Except that what Kitty was meant to be doing definitely wasn't meant to involve sitting in some guy's lap. Part of Logan acknowledged that Kitty was an adult, and a damn tough one when she wanted to be. Definitely capable of looking after herself. A much larger part though still saw the mousy little girl that needed protecting. Especially right now. Logan announced his presence in the room with a low growl, followed by a waft of cigar smoke. His hands slipped out of his blue jeans and crossed ominously in front of the flannel shirt. Looking down he gave Sam the kind of glare that usually presaged a very large repair bill.


"Maybe I should have a word with Wisdom," he thought out loud.
"Or maybe you want t' have a word with me instead, Guthrie." He growled low in the back of his throat.
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Yeah, she was good. Or...kind of, for someone laying on a friend she hadn't seen in several years and trying to get the room to cooperate and stop spinning. The spinning was bad.

But Sam...Sam could maybe stop the spinning!

"I'll try and get it to stop spinnin' if you can help me get it to stop tilting. It's like it's trying to buck us out of here." The brunette nodded and frowned at the same time. Yeah, that was a problem. Bad, bad floor. She was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be doing that.

Kitty glared at it, willing it with her mind (which, sadly, did not possess any real powers of floor control) to stop being a git.

"I don't think it's working..." she told Sam apologetically. Stupid, non-listening floor, still being all spinny and, apparently, tilty.

"I won't le'go this time." Sam assured her, grabbing onto..some part of the kitchen that wasn't moving so much. Good. That was good. Then they couldn't go...spinning out into the yard or something, right?

At this point, the brunette was hoping not. At least until she could figure out the mystery of Sam's new Rahne. Why hadn't anyone told her there was a new Rahne?

Why hadn't anyone told Rahne there was a new Rahne?

"No," Sam insisted once the world righted itself. "I had the original Rahney. You must'a got an' im-im-imp..." His tongue couldn't form around the word. For some reason his mouth was revolting from following any instructions. He eventually decided on, "a fake. You got a fake Rahney."

Kitty frowned again. "Nuh-uh," she denied, because that couldn't be right. They had the real Rahne, she was sure of it. Moira would've noticed otherwise.

"Rahney is...Rahney," Sam said, trying to sort it all out. "She likes turtlenecks and the bible and tea and bein' proper and she doesn't drink and she doesn't dance on tables. Tabby dances on tables. Amara would dance on a table or two, maybe even Chief if you got her really drunk. But Rahney? Drink's a sin."

The brunette's frown was still firmly in place as she tried to process all that, which didn't sound right, exactly. Rahne was kind of over the whole sin and going to hell thing, now, she was pretty sure. Or mostly. But maybe Sam didn't know that!

Before she could point that out, though, Sam added, "Maybe I should have a word with Wisdom," and Kitty's frown kind of vanished and she nodded. He could talk to Pete, he'd tell him that Rahne could drink and table dance and didn't think she was going to hell anymore.

"You-", she began, about to tell him just that, when another voice spoke up. A kind of growly voice. She knew that voice! Logan!

"Logan!" she pointed out helpfully to Sam, and as a pseudo-greeting to the growly mutant in question, as she sort of managed to leverage herself up into some kind of standing position, with the help of Sam's shoulder and part of the kitchen island counter. "You weren't there before."

Kitty pointed that out, just in case he didn't know. Then, managing to make her still somewhat unsteady way over to where he was, looking all growly, too, and with no little aide from the kitchen counter. And flung her arms around him without regard to his crossed arms, hugging him tight.

"We had a party," the more than a little tipsy girl informed him. "It was fun, but Sam doesn't believe Rahne can table dance." Logan would straighten it all out, he was really good at that. And Sam would have to believe Logan.

Pulling back a little, she frowned slightly again as another bit of previous conversation came back to her. "You brought alien strippers," Kitty punctuated the statement with a gentle poke to his shoulder. "And they made Brian and Pete sing."

Was that right? She wasn't sure that was right, either?
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Sam was trying to figure out what he would say to Wisdom as images of Rahne dancing on tables with the other girls from the New Mutants team flashed through his head. They'd tried getting her past the whole Reverend Craig thing and they'd made headway but he'd never imagined. Sam couldn't quite get it to stop.

"You--" Kitty started, but was quickly cut off by another voice.

"Or maybe you want t' have a word with me instead, Guthrie." He growled low in "We had a party," the more than a little tipsy girl informed him. "It was fun, but Sam doesn't believe Rahne can table dance." Logan would straighten it all out, he was really good at that. And Sam would have to believe Logan.

Pulling back a little, she frowned slightly again as another bit of previous conversation came back to her. "You brought alien strippers," Kitty punctuated the statement with a gentle poke to his shoulder. "And they made Brian and Pete sing."

The blood in Sam's veins went cold and he was suddenly more sober than he had been all night. The way Logan was glaring at him and the tone in his voice reminded him of when his daddy would catch the boys from the Lewis farm down the road would spend a little too much time looking at Paige and Joelle. It would be rude, very rude to dump Kitty off of his lap. However, he had a feeling that was what Logan was objecting to.

"This isn't--" he began in protest.

Then, he was interrupted by Kitty, who greatly saved him the trouble of being rude by beginning to get up on her own. "Logan!" she pointed out helpfully to Sam, and as a pseudo-greeting to the growly mutant in question, as she sort of managed to leverage herself up into some kind of standing position, with the help of Sam's shoulder and part of the kitchen island counter. "You weren't there before."

He definitely hadn't have been or there likely would have been spikes in his skull the second they'd nearly been swallowed whole by the floor. Sam watched as Kitty unsteadily bounced her way over towards Logan and threw her arms around him. Maybe, just maybe, she could distract Logan long enough for him to escape without having new holes in his body. And it really wasn't what it looked like. They were just trying to stay up right.

"We had a party," the more than a little tipsy girl informed him. "It was fun, but Sam doesn't believe Rahne can table dance." Logan would straighten it all out, he was really good at that. And Sam would have to believe Logan.

Pulling back a little, she frowned slightly again as another bit of previous conversation came back to her. "You brought alien strippers," Kitty punctuated the statement with a gentle poke to his shoulder. "And they made Brian and Pete sing."


Sam cringed. He probably also shouldn't have mentioned the strippers. Maybe the floor would do him a favor and decide to try and eat him again. that would be better. Or he could try and run, but the counter was just so high up.

Still, Sam wasn't the kind of man to just go runnin' off when somethin' was wrong. Not that anything was wrong...was it?

Logan. Logan and Kitty. And Rahne on tables due to Brits getting her drunk. Holding a hand to his head that was currently spinning, Sam reached up and grabbed hold of the counter and pulled himself up to semi-standing position and locked his knees to hold it. "It really was quite the party, Logan," Sam tried, diplomatically. Maybe he could still save this.
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Then, he was interrupted by Kitty, who greatly saved him the trouble of being rude by beginning to get up on her own. "Logan!" she pointed out helpfully to Sam, and as a pseudo-greeting to the growly mutant in question, as she sort of managed to leverage herself up into some kind of standing position, with the help of Sam's shoulder and part of the kitchen island counter. "You weren't there before."

Logan's frown deepened as Kitty got unsteadily to her feet, and took on a distinctly worried cast. At least she did manage to distract Logan from wanting to vent his frustrations on Sam's face. or possibly on other parts of his anatomy, depending on what his intentions with the drunk girl in his lap had been. Logan uncrossed his arms and reached out to stabilise Kitty, which made the hug somewhat easier. Logan didn't mind, even if public displays of affection usually elevated him to Extra Growly status. Right now Kitty could hold on to anything she liked, as long as it was stable enough to keep her upright. Except Sam, that is.


"We had a party," the more than a little tipsy girl informed him. "It was fun, but Sam doesn't believe Rahne can table dance." Logan would straighten it all out, he was really good at that. And Sam would have to believe Logan.

Pulling back a little, she frowned slightly again as another bit of previous conversation came back to her. "You brought alien strippers," Kitty punctuated the statement with a gentle poke to his shoulder. "And they made Brian and Pete sing."

"Rahne can table dance all she likes. Long as she can live with everyone rememberin' in the mornin'." Logan replied with a raised eyebrow. He hadn't had much to do with her in a while, but he didn't think that sounded like Rahne's style. But there were much stupider things drink had made people do. And tonight seemed to be the night for it, given that Kitty wasn't exactly prone to sitting in people's laps that often. Or that Scott was the world's second most reluctant singer. That had made the fee for the strippers worth it right there. Brian and Pete had just been a welcome bonus.

" The girls came over from New Jersey. Makes 'em about as alien as apple pie. If there's guys here who ain' able to handle a bit o' skin then that's on them. Doesn't surprise me that the Brits'd rather sing with other men than talk to a woman. Shame boyscout sucked at both." He drawled with a sarcastic smirk. He rather liked Pete and Brian, though Pete had a real attitude problem. But damnit, he was going to get his jollies somehow tonight. He needed something to be happy about tomorrow.
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Logan gave her a hug, which was nice. And he was study and didn't let her fall over, since the room had decided to wobble around a little again, which was really nice.

The still rather unsteady brunette then decided to fill him in on the party, and the fun, and the fact that he'd caused scary singing by bringing in alien strippers. Which was...just wrong even if she couldn't remember why for sure just now. It'd come to her.

Plus, Sam didn't believe her about Rahne, and the table dancing. And she'd seen Rahne table dance (though the brunette still wasn't sure Sam hadn't gotten a new Rahne, had they cleared that up?). She'd even table danced with Rahne. And Meggan and Moira and Amanda and Rachel and Yana. So there were witnesses and everything.

Sam would have to believe Logan, though. Or he'd get all growly. Or...more all growly, because he seemed pretty growly already, but she couldn't remember for sure why that was, either.

"Rahne can table dance all she likes. Long as she can live with everyone rememberin' in the mornin'." Logan replied with a raised eyebrow and Kitty let out a triumphant "Ha!", and attempted to fling a similarly triumphant 'see, I told you' smile toward Sam. Only without moving her head too much, because she was afraid that'd make the room start moving around all wrong again, so she couldn't exactly find him.

Was he still on the floor, maybe? Or maybe it'd finally bucked him off, without her helping him hold it down, and he was out in the yard now...

"The girls came over from New Jersey. Makes 'em about as alien as apple pie. If there's guys here who ain' able to handle a bit o' skin then that's on them. Doesn't surprise me that the Brits'd rather sing with other men than talk to a woman. Shame boyscout sucked at both." Kitty frowned thoughtfully as she tried to process all that.

"There are aliens in New Jersey?" she asked, not that it was a big surprise. They'd run into aliens almost everywhere, so she guessed Jersey had them, too. And honestly, she wasn't sure anyone in New Jersey would notice there were aliens running around, they'd just sort of blend in.

Also, they were possibly aliens that liked pie, and boyscouts, but no matter how much she tried Kitty couldn't quite get the rest of that to make sense.

She caught a glimpse of Sam, who apparently hadn't been flug outside by the floor. "Logan says the alien strippers are from Jersey," she told him matter of factly, in case he hadn't heard. Then turning back to Logan, she frowned slightly. He seemed...kind of extra growly a little. Or something.

"You okay?" Kitty asked, patting his shoulder. There was this little tickle in her still very fuzzy, jello shot soaked brain that told her there might be a reason for that, but it still wasn't cooperating and letting her know what it was.
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Logan seemed to be completely distracted by Kitty and her drunkenness and hanging all over him, which was a goodness. Wasn't it? Yes, yes it was. Anything to not get run into by claws made of freaky strong metals was a goodness.

"Rahne can table dance all she likes. Long as she can live with everyone rememberin' in the mornin'." Logan replied with a raised eyebrow.

Sam tilted his head at that. Was Logan's eyebrow raised to say that he agreed with Sam that table dancing wasn't anything that anyone expected of Rahne? Or, perhaps, was it that he thought Sam was fool-crazy to not know that Rahne liked dancing on tables? Maybe he didn't know Rahne at all. But she was one of his best friends, ever. Wasn't she?

Sam was all very confused by this. He was trying to sort out what he knew about Rahne and what he didn't and largely ignoring the conversation until Kitty turned around to look at him.

"Logan says the alien strippers are from Jersey," she told him matter of factly, in case he hadn't heard.

Sam nodded and then tried to process that. Jersey? All of the stupid shows about Jersey that Tabby liked to watch suggested that aliens could easily be hiding in Jersey. He nodded again in Kitty's direction but she seemed to have turned back to Logan.
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Logan wasn't completely distracted from Sam just yet. But the fact that Kitty had hopped off, and that it did seem like there hadn't been too much untoward happening between the two of them did drop the Guthrie boy down on his list of priorities. Which was good for Sam, but denied Logan another opportunity to vent his temper. Something was going to have to give there. But it was probably for the best that it wasn't Sam's jaw doing the giving.


Kitty let out a triumphant "Ha!", and attempted to fling a similarly triumphant 'see, I told you' smile toward Sam.
Sam's confusion was sort of amusing, though Logan could see where it was coming from. Rahne wasn't usually the table dancing type from what little he knew about her. And at least the drunken ramblings of Sam and his little girl were amusing enough to provide a momentary distraction from Logan's bad mood. He'd have to ask Kitty in the morning who exactly was doing what at the bachelorette party, if she remembered. Shame he'd missed that, might have been a laugh. Except Jean had been there, and Logan didn't want to see Jean. Easier to just focus on Summers out of the happy couple. Wanting to punch someone was definitely an emotion Logan could handle better than whatever it was he felt towards Jean right now.


"There are aliens in New Jersey?"
"Only the kind that came from down south without a Green Card." Logan replied gruffly, with a touch less humour. The drunken antics distraction wasn't working as well anymore. not that he had really expected it to for very long. Damn him for being soft enough to get browbeaten into staying. Maybe he'd wait a bit longer and then just grab his bike and get outta here. Least that way he wouldn't have to watch them tie the knot.


"You okay?"
"Just fine." Now there was a definite growl in Logan's voice. That question was like poking a raw nerve, it just made things worse. Right now the last thing Logan wanted was concern and to talk about his feelingsa. His feelings didn't need talking about. They needed another two kegs of beer to drink them away. Or a burst of violence. But that one wasn't going to happen, he wasn;t going to let it.

Logan needed something to do, and something to avoid Kitty pestering him for details. Even drunk he didn't expect her to just let that one go. So shifting his arm around her, he stepped over to Sam and held a hand out to him. "You two've done enough sitting on the floor. Get on up. If you're two drunk for a chair, then I'm takin' you kids somewhere to lie down. Or we're gonna end up with a whole pile o' drunk mutants clutterin' up the kitchen." Logan cared more about Kitty in that respect. But if he was going to play chaperone, then he might as well do the both of them. One over each shoulder if he had to.
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Right. New Jersey was full of alien strippers. Somehow, this did not surprise her at all, and if anyone would know it would probably be Logan.

So that cleared up that mystery. Even if she wasn't at all sure when the INS started issuing green cards to the Shi'ar, Kree, and Skrulls that kept dropping by, but then she supposed it had to happen sometime.

And she was only a little smug when Logan also confirmed that Rahne could, indeed, table dance. (Well, he mostly confirmed it, which was the same thing and still meant she was right). Obviously, it was Sam that had the faux-Rahne, not her.

So there.

The brunette still had enough wits about her to notice that Logan was being kind of extra-special growly, though not quite enough to remember why that might be, exactly. Kitty knew there was a reason of some kind, and it worried her a little.

Sadly, asking if he was ok didn't seem to be the best idea, either.

"Just fine." Logan growled, which didn't really sound very fine at all. Kitty frowned, but managed to refrain from pointing that out. Because, yeah. Growly. Plus, she thought maybe they'd lost Sam, or the floor threw him off, or outside, or something...

But no, there he was, she realized, stumbling a little as Logan shifted his arm and held out the other one to help steady the recently misplaced Sam. Though he seemed to kind of be threatening to send them to bed for cluttering the kitchen floor.

"Hey!" With a scowl of protest, Kitty turned her head (rather carefully, so as not to encourage the whole spinning thing), trying to glare at him, but mostly squinting. Because he was a little blurry, too. He and Sam should have that seen about. "We were not cluttering, we were resting, because the room kept moving."

It was an important distinction and it was on the tip of her tongue to also point out that they were not drunk. However, some dim and faint part of her brain did manage to spark enough to point out that may not be quite true, given the sheer amount of jello shots involved in the night's festivities.

"And I'm not a kid," she pointed out, somewhat belatedly, looking over at Sam for confirmation. Because she was sure he wasn't a kid, either, and he was being awfully quiet all of a sudden. She could use some backup here!
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Cannonball
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Sam stared a little at the hand being offered to him. What had Logan just said? Something about leaving? Carrying them out.

"Hey!" With a scowl of protest, Kitty turned her head (rather carefully, so as not to encourage the whole spinning thing), trying to glare at him, but mostly squinting. Because he was a little blurry, too. He and Sam should have that seen about. "We were not cluttering, we were resting, because the room kept moving."

They weren't clutter. Clutter was what his sisters could usually coat a room in. People weren't quite clutter. "The counter was just so far up, just needed a moment," Sam confirmed with a small nod which tipped the room again. He scowled at the room and the chairs that they had been sitting on. "The chairs threw us, anyways."


"And I'm not a kid," she pointed out, somewhat belatedly, looking over at Sam for confirmation.

"Nope, no kids here. Haven't been a kid since, since I a-ar...came." He had teachers who would find his lack of vocabulary to be frightening. Sam looked away from Logan to the counter. "'Sides, I have a sammich to finish. Don't wanna be hurtin' too hard for the party tomorrow."

There'd only be more drinking tomorrow and a whole big party with dancing. And hopefully no alien strippers from Jersey. Sam had a feeling that Jean's worrying over the seating would go into overdrive if she had to figure out how to keep alien strippers away from her parents. How would you even explain Alien strippers. "You sent them alien strippers back to Jersey right? I don't think they'd go over well at the wedding."

Definitely wouldn't go over well at the wedding. Not at all.
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Wolverine
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"Hey!" With a scowl of protest, Kitty turned her head (rather carefully, so as not to encourage the whole spinning thing), trying to glare at him, but mostly squinting. Because he was a little blurry, too. He and Sam should have that seen about. "We were not cluttering, we were resting, because the room kept moving."

Seemed the two of them weren't going to cooperate with being moved. Normally that wouldn't be much of an issue for Logan, he would be quite willing to move people who weren't willing if they needed to be. But today he just wasn't in the mood for it. If they wanted to pass out in the kitchen, then he'd be around in the morning to chuckle at Kitty's aches and pains. because from the look of these two, they weren't far off that state.

At least Kitty had the good sense not to press him on how he was. If she was alone and sober, MAYBE he would have discussed it. But then again, probably not. Wasn't something she needed to know before the wedding tomorrow.

"The chairs threw us, anyways."
"Course it did." Logan's voice was completely deadpan as he said that, but the look he gave Sam expressed his disbelief quite adequately. Sam and Kitty weren't sober enough to sit on a chair. That sentence was going to give him some satisfaction once they sobered up.

"Nope, no kids here. Haven't been a kid since, since I a-ar...came."
"Sure." Logan replied offhandedly. There wasn't any need to argue that one either. Adults know how to hold their liquour. Anyone who drinks themselves ninto that kind of a stupour gets called kid by Logan until their hair is grey or missing. Or they're a complete tool like the man he wasn't going to think about. Especially not about who that man was going to marry tomorrow.

"You sent them alien strippers back to Jersey right? I don't think they'd go over well at the wedding."
"If one stays, someone else asked her to." Logan smirked at that. Wouldn't that be amusing? Not that he expected anyone to. He didn't think that the mostly straight laced X-Men could handle the girls he asked over.
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