Careless Moment, Lifetime Regrets

by Kerri

Logan noticed the kid at the table. Kid noticed him, shot him a challenging look. It said 'I'm running this game, old man.'

He was just here for some quiet and to get away from the crowd at the mansion. The students were at the mansion and as much as he loved Jubilee, there was only so much he could take. Then to come here and find another kid. A bar was supposed to be safe.

What was a kid doing in here anyway? Couldn't be more than 15 years old. Harry was slipping.

"What's the deal?" he asked when Harry set his beer down.

"The kid? He's with the other guy," he gestured to a Native American man in the back booth. "Showed me the best fake ID I've ever seen. Didn't serve him, but he can stay till the other guy's ready to leave."

"Yeah?" Harry's getting soft, he thought to himself. "He get mad about it?"

"Nah, just laughed it off."

He sat at the bar watching the kid play the table. He was good, beat his opponent pretty quick. The other guy didn't have a chance and he was starting to steam about it. Logan could tell the other guy was getting angry.

Kid knew it too. "Keep it," he told him when the loser threw some bills on the table. "Just a friendly game."

The other guy looked ready to blow at the kid's attitude. Couldn't blame him. No one likes to shown up by some snot-nosed brat a third his age. Logan wondered if the kid could take care of himself, then decided he could. Kid was heavily muscled through the chest and arms, a little taller than Logan, but not by much. Looked like he was used to physical activity. Still, he was a kid. Reminded him of someone.

"Hey," he stepped in. "My turn." He lifted a heavy brow, waiting for a complaint, hoping for one. Didn't matter which one it came from, either.

Confronted by the older man, the other one moved off. "Watch 'im," he told Logan, "bet he's cheatin'."

The kid didn't take offense. "Just skill, buddy, pure skill." He rubbed a hand through his wild black hair.

"We'll see 'bout that," Logan told him. "Rack 'em up." Still couldn't shake the feeling he knew this kid.

After the break, which Logan took, he struck up a conversation with him. "What's yer name?"

"Jess, but people call me Jazz." Kid's amber eyes seemed to bounced with humor. "You?"

"Logan. People don't call me." He missed the shot.

"Oh, too bad," Jazz said, not sounding sorry at all. He then took over the table like he had before, dropping the rest of the balls in quickly.

"Whatcha doin' in here?"

"Waitin'. Thomas's here to talk to a friend."

"Yer old man?"

"No, my brother. Mom doesn't let me out on my own much."

"Moms are like that, I hear."

"She's got her reasons. Anyway, he wants to talk to Hank and said I could come if she'd let me. She knows Hank, too, so here I am. If I could just get a beer, this might be fun."

"Hank? McCoy?"

"Yeah. Know him?"

"Yeah. We work together."

Hank picked that moment to come through the door, image inducer on. He waved at Logan, then continued to the back. The Indian got up and they shook hands. They were friends, after all.

Jazz racked up a new game.

Logan gave the brother a long look. There was a vague resemblance between the two around the eyes. Other than that they were physical opposites. The brother was tall, about 6'4", classic Indian features and long black hair, little gray at the temples. He looked pretty solid, too.

The kid was shorter, a couple of inches taller than Logan himself, maybe 5'8", short black hair and pale skin, thicker through the chest than the older man. The only thing they appeared to share were unusual golden-amber colored eyes. The kid's eyes seemed to be lit from the inside. He made a mental note to tell Hank never to bring the kid around Jubilee.

"Yer mom must be getting on in years."

"She is, but if I call her 'old lady' she whips my ass." The look on the kid's face said that Mom whupped his butt on a regular basis.

Logan chuckled. He leaned over to take his shot when the medallion he wore slid out of his shirt, dangling from his neck.

Jazz's attention fastened to it, his eyes turned flat and his face reddened. With a snarl he leaped for the older man, catching him by surprise, tackling Logan to the ground.

The Indian and Hank were there in a second, pulling Jazz off Logan, Thomas holding him back.

Hank put a restraining hand on Logan, but it wasn't necessary. Logan shrugged it off. He wasn't interested in fighting a kid.

"What's yer problem?" he demanded.

"*YOU!*" The kid surged forward, jerked back by his brother.

"Knock this off," Thomas demanded. "What is the problem?"

"Look, just look at him." Jazz told him.

Thomas ran his eyes over Logan, then shrugged. "What is it I'm seeing?"

"He's wearing the medallion, the sonoffa-"

Thomas shook him impatiently. "Let's take this outside."

He manhandled the boy out, Hank and Logan following. "Do you have any idea what he's talking about?" Hank asked Logan.

Logan shook his head. "We were havin' a friendly game of pool, then he went crazy."

Outside they found the brothers around the side of the bar, Jazz talking and gesturing wildly. Thomas stood quietly, towering over the younger brother, his dark face growing more serious with every second. He finally nodded.

"Don't do anything," he warned Jazz.

The kid nodded reluctantly, still looking like he wanted to pound on Logan. If looks could kill....

"You wear a medallion?" Thomas asked Logan.

"Yeah."

"May I see it?"

He tensed up, then pulled it out by the chain from under his shirt. He didn't take it off, forcing the other man to come closer.

After a few minutes scrutiny, he turned back to the kid. "This is not conclusive."

"Is it the right one?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean-"

The boy went off, barreling into Logan.

Logan had had enough. He brushed the kid off, spun him around and grappled him into a choke hold. "What's this all about?"

"My mother," Jazz gritted out in a harsh breath, struggling to get free, "you bastard. My mother."

End.

[next part]

back to Kerri's stories | Cyke and Logan archive | comicfic.net