Log: Garrison and Logan go watch a hockey game

[x-wolverine.livejournal.com]

Logan drags Garrison out to a Rangers game. But really, it’s a form of post-op debrief and stress relief. Backdate to Friday night.



“GAR!” Logan bellowed through the closed door that represented Garrison Kane’s quarters in the Mansion. “Get your dick out of your hand, get dressed, and get out here! STAT!” he said, loudly, with a grin.

“The problems is getting it out of hers.” Garrison called through the door. He opened it a second layer. “What, what do you want, Old Man? Forgot the way to your room or just ducked the nurse and are looking for some tapioca frenzy before naptime?”

“You mean there’s someone desperate enough to let you fingerbang them?” he said with a laugh. “Yeah. Got two tickets to the Rangers game. Starts in a couple of hours. You free, or is Miss Palm got your time all tied up?”

“Miss Palm is a lovely woman trying very hard to raise five daughters, you know.” Garrison said, pulling his jacket off of the back of the chair and shrugging into it. “So, Ranger tickets? Who the hell did you have to blow to get those?”

“Your sister.” he said with a laugh. “Found a guy scalping them in front of the Garden.” he grinned. “And yes, they’re legit. Already checked.” He waited for Gar to come into the hallway and close his door before leading the other Canadian down to the garage. “Should be a decent game. Bet you against the beer I owe that the Rangers pull it out.” he taunted. “How much beer do I owe you, anyway?”

“After taking both the Renegades and the Sens last year? A lot. Too bad you left early. You would have won pretty much it all back in the damn playoffs too.” Garrison pointed out, fishing around for his keys. “We’ll have to hit a Leafs game at the ACC. Maybe playoffs. Considering I no longer pay rent, I can afford the tickets.”

Logan barked out a laugh and then held out his bike’s keys. “My ride or yours?” he asked with a wolfish grin.

“Yeah, I’m not showing up looking like your date clinging to the back of that thing, thanks.” Garrison opened the door of his Crown Vic. “Besides, I’ve got a cherry stashed under the seat now. We hit traffic, and we can officially make this FBI business to get to the rink on time.”

“Sometimes, Gar, I like the way you lie.” And then he climbed into the Crown Vic without further comment. The trip to the rink was reasonably quick, all things considered, and the cherry remained unlit.

Garrison climbed out, always annoyed at the price of parking around Madison Square Gardens. All around them were fans heading into the arena, queuing up for the match-up against the Stars. “So, it’s Lundqvist vs Lundqvist tonight.” He said as they fell into step. “Should be good. After four straight, the Rangers are ready to go on a rush.”

“You think?” he asked with a snicker. But the good mood died upon seeing all the NO SMOKING signs plastered all over the place. “What _is it_ with this country anyway? Nobody’ll let anyone enjoy a good smoke.” he growled.

“Clean modern living, my friend. Just because you have a healing factor doesn’t mean everyone does.” Garrison said as they went through the gate and made a beeline for the concession. “Personally, I just think non-smokers get a kick out of watching people huddle around the doors for a smoke in the middle of winter. It’s sadistic, but damn funny.”

Logan just grumbled at that, but cheered at the prospect of beer. “Think they’ll have anything drinkable here?” he asked as they finally made their way through the crowd at the gate. “Could use some chow as well.”

“Hotdogs and Bud would be my guess. Depressing, I know, but what can you do.” Kane stepped into the concession line, narrowly avoiding the fat man with his tray mounded from the snack counter. “I swear, it’s like they choose the beer based on how crappy it is for these sporting events. Even the Rogers Centre serves Bud, which is a crime in Canada.”

“Now that’s just -not right-.” Logan said with a laugh. “Can’t you petition the boys in Ottawa to make that illegal or something?” he grinned. They hadn’t even got their food and beer yet and he felt better already. All they really needed was Walt to make this little outing complete.

“I try, but the Prairies likes it, I think.” Garrison shrugged easily as they shuffled forward in line. “Personally, I think the whole thing started going downhill when Labatt’s was bought by Interbrew.”

“Maybe.” he said agreeably. “Hey, I’m going to go nail down the seats. Bring me back a pair of beers and some dogs.” he said, then stepped out of the line to go find the seats. They were as good as advertised, with an excellent view of center ice.

It didn’t take long for Garrison to settle down beside him, balancing the tray carefully as he did so. Normally you weren’t supposed to be allowed to buy more than two beers per person, but fortunately for Garrison, it was a young lady working the counter at that time. He passed over Logan’s food tray, and took one of the six beers from the cardboard carrier and taking a deep gulp from it.

“Nice seats.” He said, ignoring Logan inhaling a hotdog basically whole. “So, what’s the occasion here, Logan? I haven’t heard you bemoaning your lack of hockey recently.”

“Hockey’s not a big sport at the Mansion.” Logan mock-groused. “And this ain’t for me, it’s for you. Youra didn’t sit well with you, did it.” he said, making it a statement, not a question. “And besides, I owe you beer.”

“You’re repaying me with Bud.” Garrison said, and sighed at the look Logan gave him. “Alright, yes, fine! You’re right. Getting shot at while partnered up with a mental cripple isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“I dragged the Elf along. In quick, out quick. Just the way your sister likes it.” he said with a laugh. “I take it Legion went even more bugfuck than he already is?” he asked, not unsympathetically. “Besides, you’re a Mountie. Pretty good evidence of mental cripple-hood right there.”

“Fuck you.” Kane retorted, but there was no heat in it. “You just... it was his eyes, eh. He just turned and decided that he’d already decided how it was to work and there I am, bullets going past my head and richoceting all over. If I’d been tagged, he’d have just left me there. Couldn’t care less.”

Kane gulped down the rest of the thin beer and took another. “Look, I’ve never been actually shot at before. That’s enough to handle without having a partner that couldn’t be bothered to even pay attention whether or not I’m bleeding out. I mean, I can trust other cops in the field. I figured I could trust the X-Men. Haller just made it worse.”

“As you’re so fond of telling us, we ain’t cops.” Logan said, swallowing a healthy mouthful of his American brew. “You tell Command about Haller’s field performance yet?” he asked. “If the guy’s risking his team’s lives, he ought to be benched. Shit, they did it to me when I went a little bugfuck a while back.”

“Had it out with Scott. The point is that I wasn’t bailed on in immediate danger at the time.” Only bullets all around, he considered sourly. “So there isn’t really a reason to do so. In any case, I’m not going seconded to Haller again. Nice enough guy, but if I’m risking my life, I don’t want to have to guess which personality shows up to the dance, you know?”

“Fuck that noise. You need a partner, look me up. Or the Mistress.” he said with a grin. “She’s hot for you, man. Trust me on this one. Hurt her, though, and I’ll cut you up bad.” he promised. “But enough of this shit. You believe the crap going on down on the ice? Jesus, it’s hockey, not finishing school!” he shouted down to the skaters on the ice.

“New NHL rules, Old Man. No more thug hockey.” Kane said, leaning back in his seat. Marie was hot for him? Yeah, right. “Lundqvist brought good stick tonight. That’s three-four saves. Did Dallas forget their defensive line at the airport?”

“Must have. I’ve seen better skating by drunken long-haul truckers at a road stop.” he groused. “Man, this is just _painful_.” he said, downing another Bud and chasing it with his last dog. “So you finally got your cherry popped out in the field. Good for you.”

“Wow. I can’t even begin to describe how uncomfortable that phrase just made me.” Garrison said with a look, and switched back to the game. “Pass! He’s a winger for a reason! Anyhow, yeah, I got to wear my black leather and hit soldiers on the head. X-Men 101 has been passed.”

“Pussy.” Logan said tauntingly, then leaned back in his stadium chair. He let some back-and-forth in the game pass before speaking again. “You managed to get the shakes under control?” he asked quietly.

“This morning.” Kane said, not wanting to admit how much the mission had rattled him. But if anyone was going to understand it was Logan. Garrison had his own suspicions that Logan had been operating as some kind of agent long before an age that his face placed him at, but kept them to himself.

“Good. I always thought a good drink, a good smoke, and a good woman were the best ways to settle down after an op.” he offered casually. “Gets easier every time you do it.” he added.

“And I end up in a non-smoking arena, with a plastic cup full of Bud and you.” Garrison said. The two men looked at each other for a bit before it started. A twtich from Logan, the slightest shift of Garrison’s jaw, and suddenly they both lost it. Laughing, hooting, slopping beer over the sides of their cups and down their fingers as they tried to get control back.

“Always said you had shitty taste.” he said around guffaws. “Kids these days.” He glanced down at the game in progress. “You want to go get some real beer, maybe a couple of broads?”

It was already 4-1, and who cared about the Stars anyhow. “Sounds like a plan.”