Unspoken: Catching Up

Catching Up
by Andariel

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Logan adds an irritated business partner to his list of problems.

Timeline: Follows "Unexpected" by Victoria P.

Notes:Thanks to Shana for the assist with Betsy and to jenn for the assist with Logan. You both rock <g>

Date: October 23, 2001

After Rogue fled the room, Logan shut the door and turned, fighting back a smile. How sane could he be if he was amused at this moment? Then again, Betsy always did manage to surprise him -- sometimes in good ways, sometimes in ways that made his blood boil. At any rate, working with her was never boring.

He leaned back against the closed door, crossing his arms over his chest and making sure to keep that rather perplexing and nearly inappropriate amusement out of his voice. "How'd ya find me?"

She was partially reclined against the dresser next to the door, leaning her elbows on the surface of it. Shot a sideways look at him and scoffed. "I may not have your nose, Logan, but I do have other resources, ya know?"

Yes, he did know. He also knew that she was playing with him. "What's with the trailer trash from hell bit?"

A telling glance in his direction before she spat her chewing gum (with obvious distaste for it) into the garbage can near her feet. Her posture straightened from the feigned casual slouch, and she smiled slowly. "You know me, luv. Always enjoy putting on a show for the locals. You know how interesting people get when you play to their expectations. Thought this mausoleum could use a little perking up."

The cultured tone lightly touched with a British accent was vastly different from the one she'd been affecting moments before. Logan raised a brow, doing a skeptical head-to-toe examination of her rather uncharacteristic clothing. She tended toward slinky rather than sleazy. "Nice get-up. You changing professions or something?"

Logan could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees from the ice in her glare. Although he knew he had nothing to fear from her, he'd seen that same look turned on more than one of their targets. Had to have been a damned terrifying final sight, he thought. "Considering I saved your ruddy ass by doing *our* assignment alone, I should think you'd be kissing my whorish boots rather than giving me shit about them. When you didn't show up, I had to improvise."

Logan let some of his amusement show through, tingeing it with enough hostility to discourage her from believing she could push him around. Betsy would take any sign of ease on his part as an opening. He knew that well enough after working with her for nearly three years. "Don't try to pull a guilt trip on me, Betts. You obviously enjoyed yourself."

A reluctant smile curved her lips. "Fair enough. It was a lark being the bait -- hence the outfit -- and the thief all in one. Got the key, made the handoff perfectly, it was brilliant..." Her smile faded as the glare returned. "That's not the point, and you bloody well know it! I don't appreciate being left with my knickers around my ankles, Wolverine."

The way she made his code name sound like a synonym for "rat bastard" was rather irritating. His amusement fled quickly. Fuck. He had enough to deal with, and now this. His voice tightened. "I was busy."

Her brows arched with exaggerated surprise. "Really? There's a shocker. I can see quite clearly what -- or should I say who -- you were 'busy' doing." Her eyes quickly widened with a strange combination of apprehension and disgust. "God's blood... please tell me you're not so fascinated with that brunette chippy that you're actually planning to work with these do-gooders? Bloody hell, Logan. Haven't we spent hours at a time mocking these poor sods for wasting their talents trying to save the world? I mean, it's so... un-American. I came to this country for the only good thing it has -- a rampant joy in capitalism. It's not like they can make a decent cup 'a tea to save their lives."

Christ... the fucking tea again. One of the few predictable things about Betts was her constant irritation over the use of tea bags in restaurants. "Her name is Marie, and if you'll notice," he angled his head toward the packed bag, "I was just getting ready to leave here."

She shot a quick glance at the bag and showed slight signs of calming. "Well, better late than never, right? Good to see that you haven't taken complete leave of your senses. Grab your bag and we'll make a quick departure from Wonderland. I got a message about a job in-"

He shook his head to forestall her. "If you took an assignment, you'll have to do it without me. I've got a commitment to keep."

Still relatively calm but starting to appear suspicious, Betsy tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. "Haven't taken the job yet. I wanted to track you down first. What's this 'commitment' that's keeping you from profitable business? Have anything to do with that Marie woman wearing your tags?"

Shit. In the chaos surrounding Betsy's arrival, he'd almost forgotten that Marie had been wearing the tags. Almost. The vision of them lying against her perfect skin hit him, and he had to give himself a mental shake. Forget it, Logan. Whatever it was or could have been, it's not going to happen. Your life is complicated enough.

Recalling Betsy's question and seeing the increasing tension in her at his lack of answer to it, he replied. "A woman I found in Canada. Her name is Jean-"

"Christ, Logan! Marie, Jean, who's next?" she interrupted with icy anger. "Did you take on a bloody harem while I was working? If I hadn't made ten times the money with you as my partner as I did alone, I'd tell you to sod off and-"

"Jealous?" he asked blandly, a brow cocked up and a grin on his face.

She snorted quietly and rolled her eyes. "Oh please... Don't use that gag to try and soften me up, luv. We have a nice toss every once in a while, and I admit you make mixing business with pleasure quite fun, but we both know I'm not the jealous type. You can shag every woman on the continent for all I care, unless it interferes with our work, which it is. I'm just trying to fathom what has gotten into you."

He had to laugh, but did so with friendly irony. That reaction was as predictable as her bitching about the tea. "Knew that would stop the tirade. Ready to listen now?"

She smiled at him, sharing the laugh. Shaking her head at herself, she sighed, then spread her hands out in front of her in a concessionary gesture. "By all means. You have the floor."

Logan sobered as he returned to his original explanation. "I found Jean in Canada. She was in bad shape, Betts. She's a telepath, manifested right before I found her, but she can't control it."

Betsy's face showed her empathy. "Ouch. Doesn't know how to shield, 'ay? Poor bird." After a moment's silence, she spoke without rancor, sounding more curious than irritated. "Hell, Logan. Why didn't you call me when you found her? I could have helped."

He gave a meaningful glance around. "Why do you think I came here in the first place, darlin'? Sure as shit wasn't for the fun of having you bitch me out for not making the rendezvous in time."

A single nod. "Ah, yes. Xavier. Was he able to help her?"

"Him, yes. He taught her the basics, and she's getting stronger with practice. The rest of the mess here?" Logan swallowed a growl of frustration and guilt, recalling how fragile Jean had looked when he'd stopped by the penthouse. "Worst thing for her. That's why I'm getting her out of here. I promised to take care of her, and I'm going to keep that promise."

Betsy didn't bother to argue with him. She knew how seriously he took giving his word, and even if she didn't, she appeared to be as concerned about her fellow telepath as Logan was just based on his descriptions and reaction. "What in blazes happened here?"

Logan blew out a disgusted breath. Good damned question. He'd been at ground zero and he barely comprehended all the changes that had taken place since he walked through the front door with Jean. "Long, complicated story."

"Well, I apparently have plenty of time to hear it, since we're on sabbatical until you're satisfied that this Jean is ready to be on her own again. From what you've said, I'm guessing that's not the case. So..." She turned and sat on the edge of the bed. "Tell me about her."

Seeing Betsy sitting on the edge of the bed, he couldn't help recalling the night Marie had slept there. Tormented by her dreams, moonlight glowing on her skin while he watched her... Shit. This was a mental trip he didn't need to be taking.

Logan snatched his duffel off the bed and angled his head toward the door. "Not here. I need to pick up Jean soon. We can go to the city and grab some drinks before I go get her at the penthouse."

Betsy stood and crossed toward where he stood with his hand on the doorknob. "So, this is a story that requires not one drink but several, is it?"

He opened the door and allowed her to walk out in front of him. Under his breath, he muttered, "You have no idea."

~*~

Unpredictable by jenn

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