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xp_logsBackdated to February 23rd. Logan comes to talk to Scott about getting back to duty with the X-Men.
Logan took a deep swallow of his beer, tossed the empty into a hallway trash can, and then knocked on Slim's door. The man was keeping himself to himself but it was past time for him to come by and see what he had to say - about the X-Men, about his return, about all of it. Conversation was probably not going to be pleasant but it was better to get it done with and out of the way. Besides, if the man took a stand and told him no he could always go call Heather, change his mind, go lead Alpha. Not something he wanted to do, but it was a half-decent fallback position. He pulled himself back inside, cutting down on his psi-signature for Jeannie's sake.
"Come in," Scott's voice called from inside. Logan opened to the door to see Scott on the couch, his bandaged arm in a sling and a book in his free hand. He closed it, seeing who was at the door, and sat up, grimacing in pain as bruised muscles protested. Time for another painkiller before too long, he thought. "I was wondering when I'd see you."
"You were out when I came back." he pointed out. "Siddown, Slim." he semi-growled as he perched on one of Jeannie's good chairs. "You look like hell." he pointed out. "Rough op?" he asked politely.
"Don't get me started." Scott relaxed back into the couch, propping his injured arm across one of the pillows. "No permanent damage to anyone, though, so I suppose I should be satisfied with that." He wasn't, but that was beside the point. "So," he went on. "To what do we owe the honor?" It didn't even come out sounding sarcastic.
"Thought I should stop by, see if you got room on the roster for me." he said firmly. "Heather and Mac and the Dept H geeks have given me a clear bill of mental health." he added. "Not too likely to be hearing from the Wendigo again." he said. "Lotta new faces around." he commented. "Got a lot of tactical flexibility."
It wasn't as if he hadn't been tipped off already as to precisely what Logan was doing back, so he didn't even blink at the answer to his question. "I'm going to take you at your word on the bill of health," Scott said, not quite warningly. Don't make me wish I hadn't, was the unspoken, but clear addendum.
"Chuck's got all the paperwork." he protested a mite defensively. "Feel free to go look at it when you're feeling up to it." he said.
"The proof's not really in the paperwork, is it? It's in what you do when you're working with the team again. And how you do it." Scott gave a one-shouldered shrug. "So you get a clean slate, and believe it or not, I hope you do run with it. I have better things to do these days than ride your ass."
"Is that so?" he said, amused by the whole notion. "You're slipping, Slim. You haven't tried to hit me once. Startin' to think you don't love me anymore." he said with a grin. "Proof'll be on an op. Something comes up, put me on it." he said. "Everything else is bullshit anyway."
Scott caught himself scratching at his bandages and moved his hand away from temptation. "One of the many days I regret Cain not being around anymore," he muttered, more to himself than anything else. "I can put you back into the rotation," he said, at a more normal volume, "but don't expect me to tap you for a mission just to prove something." A laugh that didn't sound at all amused slipped out. "Because that worked so well this week."
Logan grinned at that. "Sounds like a good story. Getcher ass down to Harry's, I'll buy ya a beer and you can tell me about it." he said with amusement. "Rest up, Slim. You look like shit." he said cheerfully before standing up.
Scott snorted and got comfortable on the couch again. "You can let yourself out," he said. "I think your stuff's still in the locker where you left it. I didn't have a ceremonial burning or anything."
Logan took a deep swallow of his beer, tossed the empty into a hallway trash can, and then knocked on Slim's door. The man was keeping himself to himself but it was past time for him to come by and see what he had to say - about the X-Men, about his return, about all of it. Conversation was probably not going to be pleasant but it was better to get it done with and out of the way. Besides, if the man took a stand and told him no he could always go call Heather, change his mind, go lead Alpha. Not something he wanted to do, but it was a half-decent fallback position. He pulled himself back inside, cutting down on his psi-signature for Jeannie's sake.
"Come in," Scott's voice called from inside. Logan opened to the door to see Scott on the couch, his bandaged arm in a sling and a book in his free hand. He closed it, seeing who was at the door, and sat up, grimacing in pain as bruised muscles protested. Time for another painkiller before too long, he thought. "I was wondering when I'd see you."
"You were out when I came back." he pointed out. "Siddown, Slim." he semi-growled as he perched on one of Jeannie's good chairs. "You look like hell." he pointed out. "Rough op?" he asked politely.
"Don't get me started." Scott relaxed back into the couch, propping his injured arm across one of the pillows. "No permanent damage to anyone, though, so I suppose I should be satisfied with that." He wasn't, but that was beside the point. "So," he went on. "To what do we owe the honor?" It didn't even come out sounding sarcastic.
"Thought I should stop by, see if you got room on the roster for me." he said firmly. "Heather and Mac and the Dept H geeks have given me a clear bill of mental health." he added. "Not too likely to be hearing from the Wendigo again." he said. "Lotta new faces around." he commented. "Got a lot of tactical flexibility."
It wasn't as if he hadn't been tipped off already as to precisely what Logan was doing back, so he didn't even blink at the answer to his question. "I'm going to take you at your word on the bill of health," Scott said, not quite warningly. Don't make me wish I hadn't, was the unspoken, but clear addendum.
"Chuck's got all the paperwork." he protested a mite defensively. "Feel free to go look at it when you're feeling up to it." he said.
"The proof's not really in the paperwork, is it? It's in what you do when you're working with the team again. And how you do it." Scott gave a one-shouldered shrug. "So you get a clean slate, and believe it or not, I hope you do run with it. I have better things to do these days than ride your ass."
"Is that so?" he said, amused by the whole notion. "You're slipping, Slim. You haven't tried to hit me once. Startin' to think you don't love me anymore." he said with a grin. "Proof'll be on an op. Something comes up, put me on it." he said. "Everything else is bullshit anyway."
Scott caught himself scratching at his bandages and moved his hand away from temptation. "One of the many days I regret Cain not being around anymore," he muttered, more to himself than anything else. "I can put you back into the rotation," he said, at a more normal volume, "but don't expect me to tap you for a mission just to prove something." A laugh that didn't sound at all amused slipped out. "Because that worked so well this week."
Logan grinned at that. "Sounds like a good story. Getcher ass down to Harry's, I'll buy ya a beer and you can tell me about it." he said with amusement. "Rest up, Slim. You look like shit." he said cheerfully before standing up.
Scott snorted and got comfortable on the couch again. "You can let yourself out," he said. "I think your stuff's still in the locker where you left it. I didn't have a ceremonial burning or anything."
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