[ oh, she could list them out if he wanted to hear them, but karen's got a pretty good idea that he knows exactly what that list would entail. so instead she clinks their glasses together, watches him drown the rest of his and reaches across the counter for the bottle, filling his empty glass and topping her own off.
logan's eyes turn to her after that, too, and Karen knows that she's been caught. knows that it isn't really fair for her to avoid answering it, either, considering she's just drunk enough to be incapable of hiding it and also she isn't certain it matters.
she just watched this man (mutant?) either kill, or attempt to kill, a handful of people out in a public apartment space. she gets the feeling he isn't going to judge her. ]
I fucked up, back home. Drugs, drunk driving, that sort of thing. Got in an accident with my brother in the car and... well. You can guess the rest. [ she lifts her now full glass in another mock cheers to that, before taking a long sip - another one that doesn't land well, and she winces again, sets the glass down and combs back through her hair. ] Mom had already passed before then, and dad... [ couldn't look at me after that. for whatever reason, that feels a step too far, a little too woe is me, so she shakes her head. ] He wasn't the same, after. Nothing was. So instead of sticking around, I took off- moved to the big city, got a new job, and- well, that new job was also a shitshow, but for different reasons.
[ She can tell him to fuck off—won't blame her if she does—but instead, she gives him a genuine answer.
He gets it. If there's anything he gets, it's screwing up. Letting down everybody you cared about, like you always knew you would. Hell, maybe that's why they're both here, working on this damn story as if it's gonna make up for the shit they didn't get right.
For a minute, he's quiet. Does she speak to her dad anymore? Does she think about going home? Or is this her home now? He's different. He doesn't have a family like that. No parents he can recall disappointing. No home he left.
He wonders if it's worse to remember. ]
Hey, in my experience, life's just one big shitshow. No getting out of it, either.
[ Not for him, at least. He's keeping that thought to himself, though. ]
[ maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the fact karen has always had a soft spot for honest men, but it's not as difficult to share that side of her as she might think. part of her wonders if she's even ever told matt and foggy about that side of her past, or if she has, how long it took. and yet here she is.
that thought gets a little huff of a laugh from her, even if the feeling is a little sad. a little weighted. maybe he has a point - maybe that is the reason they're both here. why she can't let it go.
she might have fucked up her life, but that was her fault, her mistakes, her bad choices. the stories she chases, the lives she tries to fight for, these kids - they don't deserve that. they don't deserve to have their life fucked up by someone else. just like her brother didn't. just like her dad didn't. ]
Maybe for some of us. But it doesn't have to be for everyone... all the time. [ she adds after a pause. then she sighs. ] Either way, now my shitshow is becoming your problem. Sorry about that.
[ No. No, she's right, it doesn't have to be, and that's the real reason to her question back there, about why he's with the Professor. He's found two kinds of people in this world, the ones where it's too late for them and the ones who still have a chance for better. And he figures, if he's in the first, maybe he can still do something for the other.
He caps what's left of the whiskey in the bottle. It's starting to go from late to few hours before dawn late, which means she definitely needs some shut-eye.
Anyway, he promised he'd stay the night. So that's what he'll do. Something tells him he'll end up staying the night for the next while, actually, but maybe he's not as reluctant to do that anymore. ]
Just because you found some assholes doesn't mean you put them there. Now c'mon. [ He gathers up the pizza boxes, shoving the slices over into one of them in a half-hearted attempt to clean up a little. ] Get some sleep. I got somebody coming by tomorrow for that stick of yours, we'll see what's on it.
[ if that way of looking at the world was something he wanted to discuss, karen would probably have opinions. would probably disagree on a lot of his, too, considering her dependence on second chances, on her hope and belief in people, even with their mistakes.
logan is quickly becoming one of those - a kind of immediate connection, a first impression that karen can't quite shake. doesn't really want to. she feels a little distant, a little slow, a little disconnected, and the alcohol taking affect. she doesn't realize what logan's doing until the cap is already on the whiskey and she glances over to him, getting the sense she knows what he's trying to say before he does.
now c'mon he says, gathering up the pizza boxes. she realizes, belatedly, that she never actually ate anything and part of her is glad for it. she still isn't confident she would stomach it. ]
Alright, yeah. Probably... [ a beat. she exhales, then glances over to him. ] Oh- they respond that quick? That's helpful. Okay. [ she pushes to stand, her head swimming a little now that the drinks have had time to set in. she blinks, then shakes her head and moves around the island towards the door to her bedroom, pausing once she gets to the doorway - she considers a shower, probably should shower, but... ] You'll have to have the couch, if that works. I don't have a guest room or anything.
[ karen has a feeling logan probably won't sleep in the first place, but she still feels a bit guilty. ]
[ He keeps a close eye on her, just in case she stumbles. Once she's at her bedroom door, Logan goes back to closing up the pizza box. Figures he'll shove it into the fridge somewhere. ]
Trust me, I've done worse than a clean couch. [ A beat. ] Night, Karen.
[ She's right. Sleep's not on his mind. He puts the pizza away, and cracks the window to burn another cigar. He can hear her in the other room, can smell the spilled beer on the filthy asphalt outside. Rats skitter through the pipes in the walls, outside in the dumpster. He doesn't love this city like so many around here seem to; it's just another city that he comes through. But it is familiar, more so than other parts of the world he must've spent years in over the past two damn centuries.
At some point, he finally dozes. Maybe she hears him cry out in his sleep, maybe she doesn't, but he wakes as the sun rises, anyhow, sliver of golden light stretching across the floor. He rolls off the couch, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Shuts the window against the morning breeze.
After the night they had, he decides she won't give him shit for putting on a pot of coffee. That's where she might find him when she gets up, too, leaning against the counter while the pot brews. ]
[ she even offers him a small smile as she heads back into her room - finally letting herself feel how drunk she is, stops trying so hard to not sway when she walks. somehow she does end up showering, in clean pjays, even makes it into bed for a fitful night's rest. she gets up only once for a cup of water, something she tries to do as silently as possible, but logan probably notices. probably hears her. probably is awake the entire time she's setting a blanket over the back of his shoulders.
she goes back to bed for another couple of hours, and when she wakes it's to a raging headache and sore body. she curses, and very slowly makes it out into living room, looking all the parts hungover and exhausted as she feels. when she opens the door she can smell the coffee and makes a kind of groaning noise. ]
God, I could kiss you. [ it comes out casually, like she doesn't even think on it before she walks into the kitchen and joins him up against the counter. her hand rubs at her forehead, like it might help. it doesn't. ]
You sleep okay? [ she tries not to yawn, and fails. ]
[ He hears her, yeah, and goes back to sleep pretty much immediately when he can't hear anything else that tells him he should get up. By morning, he's almost forgotten about the blanket until it slips off his shoulders. He's folded it up and draped it over the couch.
His gaze flicks to her. He raises an eyebrow. Decides she's not awake enough to think about what she's saying. ]
I slept. [ Unlike Karen, he's alert, no trace of the shitton of whiskey he downed last night in him. He doesn't have a change of clothes, though— hadn't exactly planned to be here—and the blood's dried into a dark brown on his shirt.
He slides her a mug left out on the counter and a bottle of aspirin that's sitting out, too. ]
[ he is correct - she is not awake enough, and doesn't even notice the raised eyebrow. she does notice how he seems...completely fine, but that doesn't really shock her. something about heightened metabolisms, something about ongoing mutant abilities, something something he probably just has a much better tolerance in general.
she takes the mug and smiles at him in thanks for the aspirin, choosing to go for that first sip of coffee before worrying about the meds. that is about when karen notices he's still in his clothes from yesterday, dried blood and all, and she takes a sip of coffee as she walks around the counter towards a set of drawers in her hall leading up to the front door. ]
If by day off you mean work from home, then your chances are good.
[ a couple of moments later she comes back with a big t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants - and judging from the Columbia branding, there's a very good chance they were matt's (or foggy's, though matt is probably the better guess).
she has no idea if they'll fit, but it's better than nothing. ] You're also free to use the shower, too. It's back in the bedroom. [ you know, all that host stuff. she settles back with her coffee, again, still waking up. ]
You said you had a friend coming by today, right? Any idea when?
[ Oh. ] Well, that was easy. Was worried there I'd have to arm wrestle you about it.
[ He's pouring his own mug when he smells what she comes back with before he sees it: something that definitely has the scent of another man, maybe even recently. He's not gonna deny his thoughts jump straight to Murdock, too. Not that it matters. Just...a fact he notes down. ]
Thanks. [ He pauses halfway down the hall and glances over his shoulder. Right. ] Noon, if nothing gets in his way. I'll take you.
[ He disappears into her shower, some part of him feeling about at ease as he would be anywhere—motels, hotels, some house he's squatting at; a shower's a shower—and some other part of him all too aware that it's Karen's space. Her bedroom, her bathroom, none of which she seems to share with anybody.
Except the lawyer. Apparently.
He emerges quick, hair damp and sticking up at awkward angles. The t-shirt mostly fits, though he gets the sense it's looser on Matt than it is on him; the sweatpants hang a couple inches shorter at the ankles. He'll take it.
He leans against the threshold by her fridge, arms folded as his eyes track her to wherever she's moved to now. ] Just pretend I'm not here.
[ You know, while she's working. He'll just. Steal a book off her shelf or something. ]
[ the surprise on his face makes is interesting, and she holds back a kind of smile, shrugs. ]
No interviews today, and turns out attempts on my life are enough of a reason to call in sick. No promises on anything else, but.
[ he heads off to shower, and Karen takes the advil, fills up her mug, and moves to settle back on her couch. they've got a few hours until noon, so she decides to dive back into her work while she can. she hurts, feeling where the bruising and soreness has settled into her body over the course of the night, but that's not an entirely unfamiliar feeling, either.
it isn't until logan is back - still damp and definitely filling out the clothes a little more than their original owner. she doesn't realize she's staring until he settles against the fridge, arms crossed, and Karen blinks a couple of times. ]
You just going to watch me? [ which is said to cover up the fact karen is now suddenly very aware of how, somehow, none of this feels off. logan staying in her apartment, her still in pajamas and a cup of coffee, the morning routine. she huffs out a breath, pulling her hair back out of her face. ] You're welcome to read. [ she gestures to a stack of folders of her materials. ] Or just wait. Won't bother me.
[ and she is being honest about that. she grabs for her laptop and sets it on her knees and zeroes in her focus for the next couple of hours, or until it's close enough to noon that she should be getting ready, but probably won't notice the time until logan points it out.
[ He reads. Not the research, but a book off her shelf, some old Steinbeck or similar he's read before but doesn't mind flipping through again. It's not that he isn't interested in what she's doing, the information she's been pulling together, but it's a lot. Old memories attached, new ones he isn't sure what to do with, and in the end, he knows he's not gonna find any of it useful until they've got a proper target. A name. A building. Something he can march towards.
Right now, it's all words.
He steals a slice of cold pizza in between the pages and leaves some out on the counter, though he gets the feeling she's not gonna remember to eat. Which, y'know, he's not her father, so he says nothing about it even if he's pretty sure she hasn't eaten anything except a half-pint since last night. It's half-past eleven when his phone buzzes. ETA: thirty minutes. Maybe more, knowing traffic.
He closes the book. ] You ready?
[ He doesn't expect the drop-off to take long, but he'd wanted to meet someplace away from where she lives. They've invited enough trouble as it is. She hasn't asked about any of it, he realizes. Who this guy is, where they're going, if Logan's sure they won't just lose the drive. She doesn't strike him as the overly trusting type, which means...
Look, it's nothing. Unexpected, yeah, but not in a bad way. ]
[ every now and then her eyes do move away from the screen - finding him flipping through a book, checking her phone and even taking a call or two from work, refilling her coffee mug. she never mentions the attack, says something about waking up feeling awful but she'll be sending in her article later today, dives back in again. it's not until he speaks you ready? that she really seems to pull out of the routine - blinking, jumping up, muttering shit, what time is it? as she tosses the computer down and rushes back into her room.
to her credit, it takes about ten minutes before she's back - dressed in the most nondescript clothes possible, pulling her hair back in a ponytail and finally grabbing a piece of cold pizza from the fridge. ]
Sorry- yeah. [ a beat, and then she walks over and grabs the zip drive and slips her computer into a backpack. when she looks at logan, she realizes he's still in the sweat pants and t-shirt. she wishes she had something else to offer him, but she guesses its better than clothes with bloodstains. ]
[ Logan does the polite thing, pretending he can't hear the other end of her calls, and sets his third mug of coffee in the sink while she dresses. By the time she comes back, he's got his jacket thrown over the Columbia t-shirt and shoves his boots on. Her book's returned to its spot on the shelf.
He'll stop by a Goodwill later and find a pair of jeans. Maybe two, in case...this shit happens again. People trying to kill them. Which he expects it will. One day he'll learn to pack a change of clothes when he's dragged on a mission.
He holds the door for her. ] You know how to hold on tight?
[ The reason behind his question comes into view: a rain-splattered black Harley parked by the curb, the same one she's probably heard coming and going through her streets the past few days. ]
[ she flips up her hood as they step out of the front door of her apartment, locking the door behind them and slipping her hands into the pocket of her jacket as they walk. he holds the door open for her - charming, she smiles at him in thanks as she steps out onto the sidewalk.
you know how to hold on tight?
she shoots him a slightly confused look until she sees the bike, and then karen huffs a laugh. ]
Why am I not surprised. And yeah- I've ridden a Harley before. [ she steps to the side and lets him get on it first, checking down the alleyway a few times before sliding onto the seat behind him.
and yes, she does know what she's doing, given the way she slides her knees up on either side of him and her arms go around his waist.
the image is not lost on her - how she has no idea where they're going, who they're meeting, how she is somehow on the back of a harley in hells kitchen, about to drive through manhattan, and yet she somehow feels safer than she has in days. weeks, even.
she tightens her hold around him a little as they drive off. ]
[ He snorts, too, quiet. Yeah, well. She's not wrong about that. He's not too surprised to know she's ridden one before, either, after what she's told him of her past. Bet she's ridden them a lot, actually.
He kicks up the stand. To his credit, he doesn't go as fast as he normally does—he's not trying to scrape her off the pavement—but he weaves through traffic with the kind of impatience that says he's more used to the open road than the Manhattan gridlock.
They don't arrive anywhere shady, just a diner on the corner. He's got one eye out for anything suspicious, but he figures a quieter part of the city is better, considering it's...well, she'll see.
He kills the engine, then swings off. ]
Don't let him— [ A puff of sulphuric smoke interrupts him. Logan clears his throat. ] —startle you.
[ There he is, all pointed ears and blue fur, appearing out of thin air with a toothy grin and a shy wave. ]
It'll be in good hands, promise. He's hard to catch.
[ to his credit indeed. some younger, almost-forgotten part of Karen feels a little disappointed that they don't go speeding off into the traffic of new york city, but she supposes the last thing either of them need is a ticket, or an angry new yorker.
she doesn't know what she expects regarding where they're going, but the nondiscript diner is somehow not it, and yet exactly what she imagined. it makes her think a little on frank, a little on how her life was way back then, but only briefly. she swings her leg over the bike as she gets off, looking up at the diner and about to ask so who should we be looking out for? when the puff of smoke happens and Karen jumps, stepping back one step before stopping. ]
Jesus- [ it's instinctual, and her heart's racing, but it's fine. she's not scared, and the grin on the other man's (boy's?) face calms her down a little. ]
Oh. You're- [ her eyes go to the newcomer, then to logan, kind of expecting an introduction or even a don't worry, I know him. when neither follows, she lets out a breath. ] Right. I'm Karen, by the way. [ she says, swinging her backpack around to her front, unzipping just enough to grab the thumb drive. ]
[ Kurt takes it upon himself to make the introductions—a long introduction that Logan cuts short by clapping him on the shoulder. Look, he likes the guy, he does; any other day he'd buy him some pancakes. It's just, with all this shit going on, the city feels especially unsafe for a visible mutant. He doesn't really want Kurt hanging around in the open.
The moment the drive exchanges hands, Logan sends the elf boy off. Assures Karen it's going straight to the Professor and his endless equipment of whatever the hell Hank's got going. ]
We'll see what they send back. [ Hopefully won't take more than a couple days, but...who the fuck knows. He waves away the trail of smoke lingering in the air. Feels like he should explain a little. Where does he start? ] Stryker took him, too, once. We picked him up after he escaped.
[ The door swings open. Logan steps aside to let someone by, then catches the door. He glances back at Karen. Lunch? ]
[ karen is more than happy to entertain kurt's long introductions, even giggling a little as he kisses the back of her hand - charming, and overly friendly, too. it's the sort a person a reporter loves, but Karen immediately feels herself slip into work mode with him there; handing off the drive, sure, but also immediately asking questions. how he knew logan, how his powers work- the kind of thing that would leave them here for hours, but logan is quick enough to cut them both off with a hand to kurt's shoulders.
she waves as kurt disappears the same way he appeared, in a puff of smoke, and blinks a couple of times before it's starts to process what sort of interaction she just had. because he- kurt wagner- that was another mutant. another mutant she'd read references of, but only briefly. not nearly as much as logan, or the wolverine, but enough to-
wow. okay.
logan is unphased, which makes sense, as he waves away the lingering smoke. he mentions styker, too, which makes karen's shoulders tense briefly. ]
Stryker took him, too? God, how... [ how has he gotten away with this for so long, she wants to say, but she knows the answer to that before even asking. she shakes her head, looking up just in time to catch logan's eyes. lunch?
as if on cue, her stomach rumbles- considering she hasn't eaten more than maybe a slice of pizza and a lot of whiskey in the last eighteen hours, it makes sense. her expression turns a bit sheepish. ]
Probably should. I'll buy. [ she ducks in through the door he holds open for them, letting the hostess set them in a booth near the corner. karen dives into the menu with all the attention and rigor required for a ten plus page elaminated booklet, and it's not until after they've ordered their drinks that she finally sets it down. ]
So. [ a loaded word, but her eyes are playful enough. casual. ] You've travelled a lot over the years, right?
[ How. That's the million dollar question, isn't it? Except they both know. Stryker's a Major, decorated, shook hands with the President and a dozen fuckin' senators. In the eyes of the people who make the rules, he's the furthest thing from a criminal. Now that the man's dead, none of that'll come to light.
Logan's got no need the world to know the truth. Dead suits him fine.
He slides into the booth across from Karen. The menu's thicker than a Bible. He skims 'til he reaches the first sandwich on the list and decides that's good enough.
So. Logan raises an eyebrow. He tips a little creamer pod in his coffee to cut the shitty burnt taste of a pot's that's sat stagnant all morning. ]
I'm not gonna wake up one day and find an article about me floating around, am I?
[ they do know, and that's both the problem and the reason they're here. the longer that karen talks to logan, the more she learns about other mutants, the more stryker feels like a bigger and bigger piece. he won't be the only one, men like him never are, but he's going to be the way in.
he's just also...not alive anymore. and finding this sort of information from dead men makes her job that much more difficult.
either way, she'll get back to the story when they decide to head back. for now, she tries to shift her thinking to something else, to actually sit and eat a meal. logan tips creamer into his coffee and Karen holds up her hands. ]
[ He huffs in response. Well, it's a better conversation topic than Stryker, that's for damn sure. ]
Yeah, I've been around. I wasn't exactly sightseeing.
[ And, he hates flying, which means if he ever winds up across the Atlantic, it's usually after hitching a long ride on some cargo ship. Only a handful of times has it been by air—when the X-Men need him and send him on the plane—or back in the day, when he was still fighting for one government or the other.
Though maybe he's lying a bit. Maybe he does go for the sights sometimes. Just not the kinda sights most people go for. But he remembers the last time he was in bumfuck, nowhere, Alaska, that was a hell of a view of the night sky. Stuck around for months. ]
[ the waitress arrives a few moments later, and karen orders a full breakfast, bacon and scrambled eggs and a bagel, and a refill. when the waitress leaves, she turns back to logan, hands around her mug and elbows on the table. ]
Favorite place you've been? Which- I know your memory isn't perfect, but top of your head.
[ karen... doesn't travel. or- rather, she hasn't traveled. the biggest trip she can remember taking was her move to new york, and even that is only a five or six hour drive home, and then there was that time she'd been prepared to leave the country, after she told fisk what she'd done, when fisk knew what she did to westley, but...
really she wants to ask about time periods, decades, wants to ask if he has favorite foods or favorite trips- but she also is aware his memory isn't complete, and doesn't want to press too much. ]
[ He sort of remembers decades; some are clearer than others, but really, the biggest void is around the 80's—the years he was taken—and the chunk that was his childhood before his mutation kicked in.
The rest is there and not, so—yeah, if he digs, he can pull out some favourites. He thinks about it for a minute. Maybe a part of him is trying to decide what she might like to hear first, too. ]
A long time ago, I was up in Miles Canyon. People came down in droves for the gold fields, but at night, it got real quiet. Northern lights in the sky. [ He shrugs, then stirs his coffee idly. ] Stayed there again a couple years ago, but...
[ Same thing that always happens. Then he leaves. ]
[ she waits, watching him as he thinks on his answer. she recognizes the fact he is actually trying to come up with an answer, and she appreciates that - the honesty, sure, but more than that it's the effort. she's sure he has plenty of half-assed answers that aren't wrong, or he wouldn't be above genuinely shrugging the whole thing off, but he doesn't.
so karen is patient, sips on her coffee, and when logan decides on his answer, she listens.
miles canyon, it sounds familiar but not immediately so. she thinks about it for a little bit, head tilted, before she realizes why. ] That's up in Canada, right? Over near Alaska? [ she nods. ] My parents took my brother and I on a camping trip up to Quebec once. I was really young, so I don't really remember it, but I do remember the colors.
[ she was so young, then, her brother even smaller. it's a happy memory, years before it all started to fall apart. she takes another sip of her coffee. ]
I can only imagine how beautiful it must have been back then, before all the light pollution.
[ she specifically doesn't ask (yet) about why he left. but she's leaving space for that to follow. ]
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logan's eyes turn to her after that, too, and Karen knows that she's been caught. knows that it isn't really fair for her to avoid answering it, either, considering she's just drunk enough to be incapable of hiding it and also she isn't certain it matters.
she just watched this man (mutant?) either kill, or attempt to kill, a handful of people out in a public apartment space. she gets the feeling he isn't going to judge her. ]
I fucked up, back home. Drugs, drunk driving, that sort of thing. Got in an accident with my brother in the car and... well. You can guess the rest. [ she lifts her now full glass in another mock cheers to that, before taking a long sip - another one that doesn't land well, and she winces again, sets the glass down and combs back through her hair. ] Mom had already passed before then, and dad... [ couldn't look at me after that. for whatever reason, that feels a step too far, a little too woe is me, so she shakes her head. ] He wasn't the same, after. Nothing was. So instead of sticking around, I took off- moved to the big city, got a new job, and- well, that new job was also a shitshow, but for different reasons.
[ he can probably sense a pattern of some kind. ]
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He gets it. If there's anything he gets, it's screwing up. Letting down everybody you cared about, like you always knew you would. Hell, maybe that's why they're both here, working on this damn story as if it's gonna make up for the shit they didn't get right.
For a minute, he's quiet. Does she speak to her dad anymore? Does she think about going home? Or is this her home now? He's different. He doesn't have a family like that. No parents he can recall disappointing. No home he left.
He wonders if it's worse to remember. ]
Hey, in my experience, life's just one big shitshow. No getting out of it, either.
[ Not for him, at least. He's keeping that thought to himself, though. ]
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that thought gets a little huff of a laugh from her, even if the feeling is a little sad. a little weighted. maybe he has a point - maybe that is the reason they're both here. why she can't let it go.
she might have fucked up her life, but that was her fault, her mistakes, her bad choices. the stories she chases, the lives she tries to fight for, these kids - they don't deserve that. they don't deserve to have their life fucked up by someone else. just like her brother didn't. just like her dad didn't. ]
Maybe for some of us. But it doesn't have to be for everyone... all the time. [ she adds after a pause. then she sighs. ] Either way, now my shitshow is becoming your problem. Sorry about that.
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He caps what's left of the whiskey in the bottle. It's starting to go from late to few hours before dawn late, which means she definitely needs some shut-eye.
Anyway, he promised he'd stay the night. So that's what he'll do. Something tells him he'll end up staying the night for the next while, actually, but maybe he's not as reluctant to do that anymore. ]
Just because you found some assholes doesn't mean you put them there. Now c'mon. [ He gathers up the pizza boxes, shoving the slices over into one of them in a half-hearted attempt to clean up a little. ] Get some sleep. I got somebody coming by tomorrow for that stick of yours, we'll see what's on it.
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logan is quickly becoming one of those - a kind of immediate connection, a first impression that karen can't quite shake. doesn't really want to. she feels a little distant, a little slow, a little disconnected, and the alcohol taking affect. she doesn't realize what logan's doing until the cap is already on the whiskey and she glances over to him, getting the sense she knows what he's trying to say before he does.
now c'mon he says, gathering up the pizza boxes. she realizes, belatedly, that she never actually ate anything and part of her is glad for it. she still isn't confident she would stomach it. ]
Alright, yeah. Probably... [ a beat. she exhales, then glances over to him. ] Oh- they respond that quick? That's helpful. Okay. [ she pushes to stand, her head swimming a little now that the drinks have had time to set in. she blinks, then shakes her head and moves around the island towards the door to her bedroom, pausing once she gets to the doorway - she considers a shower, probably should shower, but... ] You'll have to have the couch, if that works. I don't have a guest room or anything.
[ karen has a feeling logan probably won't sleep in the first place, but she still feels a bit guilty. ]
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Trust me, I've done worse than a clean couch. [ A beat. ] Night, Karen.
[ She's right. Sleep's not on his mind. He puts the pizza away, and cracks the window to burn another cigar. He can hear her in the other room, can smell the spilled beer on the filthy asphalt outside. Rats skitter through the pipes in the walls, outside in the dumpster. He doesn't love this city like so many around here seem to; it's just another city that he comes through. But it is familiar, more so than other parts of the world he must've spent years in over the past two damn centuries.
At some point, he finally dozes. Maybe she hears him cry out in his sleep, maybe she doesn't, but he wakes as the sun rises, anyhow, sliver of golden light stretching across the floor. He rolls off the couch, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Shuts the window against the morning breeze.
After the night they had, he decides she won't give him shit for putting on a pot of coffee. That's where she might find him when she gets up, too, leaning against the counter while the pot brews. ]
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[ she even offers him a small smile as she heads back into her room - finally letting herself feel how drunk she is, stops trying so hard to not sway when she walks. somehow she does end up showering, in clean pjays, even makes it into bed for a fitful night's rest. she gets up only once for a cup of water, something she tries to do as silently as possible, but logan probably notices. probably hears her. probably is awake the entire time she's setting a blanket over the back of his shoulders.
she goes back to bed for another couple of hours, and when she wakes it's to a raging headache and sore body. she curses, and very slowly makes it out into living room, looking all the parts hungover and exhausted as she feels. when she opens the door she can smell the coffee and makes a kind of groaning noise. ]
God, I could kiss you. [ it comes out casually, like she doesn't even think on it before she walks into the kitchen and joins him up against the counter. her hand rubs at her forehead, like it might help. it doesn't. ]
You sleep okay? [ she tries not to yawn, and fails. ]
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His gaze flicks to her. He raises an eyebrow. Decides she's not awake enough to think about what she's saying. ]
I slept. [ Unlike Karen, he's alert, no trace of the shitton of whiskey he downed last night in him. He doesn't have a change of clothes, though— hadn't exactly planned to be here—and the blood's dried into a dark brown on his shirt.
He slides her a mug left out on the counter and a bottle of aspirin that's sitting out, too. ]
You gonna let me convince you to take a day off?
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she takes the mug and smiles at him in thanks for the aspirin, choosing to go for that first sip of coffee before worrying about the meds. that is about when karen notices he's still in his clothes from yesterday, dried blood and all, and she takes a sip of coffee as she walks around the counter towards a set of drawers in her hall leading up to the front door. ]
If by day off you mean work from home, then your chances are good.
[ a couple of moments later she comes back with a big t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants - and judging from the Columbia branding, there's a very good chance they were matt's (or foggy's, though matt is probably the better guess).
she has no idea if they'll fit, but it's better than nothing. ] You're also free to use the shower, too. It's back in the bedroom. [ you know, all that host stuff. she settles back with her coffee, again, still waking up. ]
You said you had a friend coming by today, right? Any idea when?
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[ He's pouring his own mug when he smells what she comes back with before he sees it: something that definitely has the scent of another man, maybe even recently. He's not gonna deny his thoughts jump straight to Murdock, too. Not that it matters. Just...a fact he notes down. ]
Thanks. [ He pauses halfway down the hall and glances over his shoulder. Right. ] Noon, if nothing gets in his way. I'll take you.
[ He disappears into her shower, some part of him feeling about at ease as he would be anywhere—motels, hotels, some house he's squatting at; a shower's a shower—and some other part of him all too aware that it's Karen's space. Her bedroom, her bathroom, none of which she seems to share with anybody.
Except the lawyer. Apparently.
He emerges quick, hair damp and sticking up at awkward angles. The t-shirt mostly fits, though he gets the sense it's looser on Matt than it is on him; the sweatpants hang a couple inches shorter at the ankles. He'll take it.
He leans against the threshold by her fridge, arms folded as his eyes track her to wherever she's moved to now. ] Just pretend I'm not here.
[ You know, while she's working. He'll just. Steal a book off her shelf or something. ]
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No interviews today, and turns out attempts on my life are enough of a reason to call in sick. No promises on anything else, but.
[ he heads off to shower, and Karen takes the advil, fills up her mug, and moves to settle back on her couch. they've got a few hours until noon, so she decides to dive back into her work while she can. she hurts, feeling where the bruising and soreness has settled into her body over the course of the night, but that's not an entirely unfamiliar feeling, either.
it isn't until logan is back - still damp and definitely filling out the clothes a little more than their original owner. she doesn't realize she's staring until he settles against the fridge, arms crossed, and Karen blinks a couple of times. ]
You just going to watch me? [ which is said to cover up the fact karen is now suddenly very aware of how, somehow, none of this feels off. logan staying in her apartment, her still in pajamas and a cup of coffee, the morning routine. she huffs out a breath, pulling her hair back out of her face. ] You're welcome to read. [ she gestures to a stack of folders of her materials. ] Or just wait. Won't bother me.
[ and she is being honest about that. she grabs for her laptop and sets it on her knees and zeroes in her focus for the next couple of hours, or until it's close enough to noon that she should be getting ready, but probably won't notice the time until logan points it out.
sorry, logan. she's in story mode here. ]
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Right now, it's all words.
He steals a slice of cold pizza in between the pages and leaves some out on the counter, though he gets the feeling she's not gonna remember to eat. Which, y'know, he's not her father, so he says nothing about it even if he's pretty sure she hasn't eaten anything except a half-pint since last night. It's half-past eleven when his phone buzzes. ETA: thirty minutes. Maybe more, knowing traffic.
He closes the book. ] You ready?
[ He doesn't expect the drop-off to take long, but he'd wanted to meet someplace away from where she lives. They've invited enough trouble as it is. She hasn't asked about any of it, he realizes. Who this guy is, where they're going, if Logan's sure they won't just lose the drive. She doesn't strike him as the overly trusting type, which means...
Look, it's nothing. Unexpected, yeah, but not in a bad way. ]
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to her credit, it takes about ten minutes before she's back - dressed in the most nondescript clothes possible, pulling her hair back in a ponytail and finally grabbing a piece of cold pizza from the fridge. ]
Sorry- yeah. [ a beat, and then she walks over and grabs the zip drive and slips her computer into a backpack. when she looks at logan, she realizes he's still in the sweat pants and t-shirt. she wishes she had something else to offer him, but she guesses its better than clothes with bloodstains. ]
Ready. I'll follow you.
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He'll stop by a Goodwill later and find a pair of jeans. Maybe two, in case...this shit happens again. People trying to kill them. Which he expects it will. One day he'll learn to pack a change of clothes when he's dragged on a mission.
He holds the door for her. ] You know how to hold on tight?
[ The reason behind his question comes into view: a rain-splattered black Harley parked by the curb, the same one she's probably heard coming and going through her streets the past few days. ]
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you know how to hold on tight?
she shoots him a slightly confused look until she sees the bike, and then karen huffs a laugh. ]
Why am I not surprised. And yeah- I've ridden a Harley before. [ she steps to the side and lets him get on it first, checking down the alleyway a few times before sliding onto the seat behind him.
and yes, she does know what she's doing, given the way she slides her knees up on either side of him and her arms go around his waist.
the image is not lost on her - how she has no idea where they're going, who they're meeting, how she is somehow on the back of a harley in hells kitchen, about to drive through manhattan, and yet she somehow feels safer than she has in days. weeks, even.
she tightens her hold around him a little as they drive off. ]
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He kicks up the stand. To his credit, he doesn't go as fast as he normally does—he's not trying to scrape her off the pavement—but he weaves through traffic with the kind of impatience that says he's more used to the open road than the Manhattan gridlock.
They don't arrive anywhere shady, just a diner on the corner. He's got one eye out for anything suspicious, but he figures a quieter part of the city is better, considering it's...well, she'll see.
He kills the engine, then swings off. ]
Don't let him— [ A puff of sulphuric smoke interrupts him. Logan clears his throat. ] —startle you.
[ There he is, all pointed ears and blue fur, appearing out of thin air with a toothy grin and a shy wave. ]
It'll be in good hands, promise. He's hard to catch.
[ To say the least. ]
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she doesn't know what she expects regarding where they're going, but the nondiscript diner is somehow not it, and yet exactly what she imagined. it makes her think a little on frank, a little on how her life was way back then, but only briefly. she swings her leg over the bike as she gets off, looking up at the diner and about to ask so who should we be looking out for? when the puff of smoke happens and Karen jumps, stepping back one step before stopping. ]
Jesus- [ it's instinctual, and her heart's racing, but it's fine. she's not scared, and the grin on the other man's (boy's?) face calms her down a little. ]
Oh. You're- [ her eyes go to the newcomer, then to logan, kind of expecting an introduction or even a don't worry, I know him. when neither follows, she lets out a breath. ] Right. I'm Karen, by the way. [ she says, swinging her backpack around to her front, unzipping just enough to grab the thumb drive. ]
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The moment the drive exchanges hands, Logan sends the elf boy off. Assures Karen it's going straight to the Professor and his endless equipment of whatever the hell Hank's got going. ]
We'll see what they send back. [ Hopefully won't take more than a couple days, but...who the fuck knows. He waves away the trail of smoke lingering in the air. Feels like he should explain a little. Where does he start? ] Stryker took him, too, once. We picked him up after he escaped.
[ The door swings open. Logan steps aside to let someone by, then catches the door. He glances back at Karen. Lunch? ]
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she waves as kurt disappears the same way he appeared, in a puff of smoke, and blinks a couple of times before it's starts to process what sort of interaction she just had. because he- kurt wagner- that was another mutant. another mutant she'd read references of, but only briefly. not nearly as much as logan, or the wolverine, but enough to-
wow. okay.
logan is unphased, which makes sense, as he waves away the lingering smoke. he mentions styker, too, which makes karen's shoulders tense briefly. ]
Stryker took him, too? God, how... [ how has he gotten away with this for so long, she wants to say, but she knows the answer to that before even asking. she shakes her head, looking up just in time to catch logan's eyes. lunch?
as if on cue, her stomach rumbles- considering she hasn't eaten more than maybe a slice of pizza and a lot of whiskey in the last eighteen hours, it makes sense. her expression turns a bit sheepish. ]
Probably should. I'll buy. [ she ducks in through the door he holds open for them, letting the hostess set them in a booth near the corner. karen dives into the menu with all the attention and rigor required for a ten plus page elaminated booklet, and it's not until after they've ordered their drinks that she finally sets it down. ]
So. [ a loaded word, but her eyes are playful enough. casual. ] You've travelled a lot over the years, right?
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Logan's got no need the world to know the truth. Dead suits him fine.
He slides into the booth across from Karen. The menu's thicker than a Bible. He skims 'til he reaches the first sandwich on the list and decides that's good enough.
So. Logan raises an eyebrow. He tips a little creamer pod in his coffee to cut the shitty burnt taste of a pot's that's sat stagnant all morning. ]
I'm not gonna wake up one day and find an article about me floating around, am I?
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he's just also...not alive anymore. and finding this sort of information from dead men makes her job that much more difficult.
either way, she'll get back to the story when they decide to head back. for now, she tries to shift her thinking to something else, to actually sit and eat a meal. logan tips creamer into his coffee and Karen holds up her hands. ]
Off the record, I promise. I'm just curious.
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Yeah, I've been around. I wasn't exactly sightseeing.
[ And, he hates flying, which means if he ever winds up across the Atlantic, it's usually after hitching a long ride on some cargo ship. Only a handful of times has it been by air—when the X-Men need him and send him on the plane—or back in the day, when he was still fighting for one government or the other.
Though maybe he's lying a bit. Maybe he does go for the sights sometimes. Just not the kinda sights most people go for. But he remembers the last time he was in bumfuck, nowhere, Alaska, that was a hell of a view of the night sky. Stuck around for months. ]
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Favorite place you've been? Which- I know your memory isn't perfect, but top of your head.
[ karen... doesn't travel. or- rather, she hasn't traveled. the biggest trip she can remember taking was her move to new york, and even that is only a five or six hour drive home, and then there was that time she'd been prepared to leave the country, after she told fisk what she'd done, when fisk knew what she did to westley, but...
really she wants to ask about time periods, decades, wants to ask if he has favorite foods or favorite trips- but she also is aware his memory isn't complete, and doesn't want to press too much. ]
Food, the sights, whichever.
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The rest is there and not, so—yeah, if he digs, he can pull out some favourites. He thinks about it for a minute. Maybe a part of him is trying to decide what she might like to hear first, too. ]
A long time ago, I was up in Miles Canyon. People came down in droves for the gold fields, but at night, it got real quiet. Northern lights in the sky. [ He shrugs, then stirs his coffee idly. ] Stayed there again a couple years ago, but...
[ Same thing that always happens. Then he leaves. ]
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so karen is patient, sips on her coffee, and when logan decides on his answer, she listens.
miles canyon, it sounds familiar but not immediately so. she thinks about it for a little bit, head tilted, before she realizes why. ] That's up in Canada, right? Over near Alaska? [ she nods. ] My parents took my brother and I on a camping trip up to Quebec once. I was really young, so I don't really remember it, but I do remember the colors.
[ she was so young, then, her brother even smaller. it's a happy memory, years before it all started to fall apart. she takes another sip of her coffee. ]
I can only imagine how beautiful it must have been back then, before all the light pollution.
[ she specifically doesn't ask (yet) about why he left. but she's leaving space for that to follow. ]
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happy 100th comment :3
:333
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