One Bourbon One Scotch and One Beer

[Logan]

Accepting the beer gladly, Logan twisted off the top and downed half of it in one gulp. "Good thing I grabbed tha other bottle of hooch," he said holding up the unopened bottle of whiskey. It appeared that they both had been thinking ahead somewhat.

The cops would be there any moment, so the two of them headed out to the parking lot and got on their bikes without saying another word. Logan started his bike and led the way, hearing Gambit close behind.

He led them out of the posh neighborhood and into a somewhat run down area, where he stopped at a local bar, and looked over. "Home sweet home," he said just as the front door opened up and two enormous bouncers tossed someone out onto the sidewalk in front of them.

[Gambit]

Tossing one leg over the bike, Gambit expertly hid the fact that he was in no condition to drive. At this point, getting out of there as fast as possible was top priority, and leaving behind anything that could tie him here was a huge no no.

Not dat dey could trace dis bike back anywhere, anyways.

Keeping his eyes on the taillight of Logan’s bike ahead of him, Gambit tried to clear the fog that settled in his head. Luckily the drive didn’t take as long as expected, and they were soon pulling off into another parking lot. Surveying the bar, the Cajun quickly assessed that he had yet to get kicked out of this one, so it would definitely do. Seeing the man tossed unceremoniously to the ground, getting a face full of pavement, he grinned.

“Looks like m’ kinda place!”<br>

[Logan]

“Oh yeah, yer gonna fit in real nice with that pulp of a face you got.” Logan sidestepped over the drunken heap that had just been tossed out like a bag of garbage and brushed past the two scowling bouncers without so much as a glance at them.

He really didn’t know why he was continuing this evening, other than pure and simple avoidance of the crap that was going on in his life that he didn’t want to face. He knew he had to talk to Storm sometime soon, but for right now he was ok with avoidance.

Motioning to the frazzled looking waitress, he held up two fingers, and as they took their seat, she soon came over and left two pitchers and two glasses on the table. Logan was only halfway through the fabulous cigar he had acquired from that penthouse, and amazingly enough it was still lit. He chewed on the end of it a little as he studied Gambit’s face.

"Run into Rogue lately? And don't use one of yer poker faces on me," Logan said narrowing his eyes at Gambit. "I can smell a bluff."

[Gambit]

Hopping over the discarded drunk with pronounced enthusiasm, Gambit followed Logan into the bar, throwing a wide grin at one of the bouncers on the way in. Settling at a nearby table, he stayed silent as Logan ordered the drinks. Reaching out and pouring them each a glass, he had just taken a mouthful of beer when Logan spoke, causing him to almost spit it out across the table. Managing to swallow the brew as opposed to covering his companion in it, he coughed a few times to clear his throat before looking across at Logan through darkened lenses.

“Mais, turns out she does exist here. But surprise! She be jus’ like Stormy. Don’ r’member a damn t’ing,” Remy replied, a bitter note creeping into his voice. After all the lies, after everything, he found he didn’t want to lie to Logan about this. He knew the older man knew he could’ve taken out that gang of thugs, and suspected that he also knew what the Cajun had been hoping the result of said fight would’ve been.

[Logan]

It was a hunch that Logan had suspected from the moment he had seen the Cajun laying in a bloody heap in that darkened alleyway. The one thing that Logan suspected would be enough to dim the luster for life in Gambit was some kind of heartbreak.

“S’much as I never wanted ta believe it in tha early days, you really did care ‘bout her.” He shook his head. “Enough ta beat tha crap outta yerself,” he said with a gravelly chuckle. “Kinda sounds stupid when ya say it out loud, don’t it?”<br>
Though Gambit didn’t seem to take offence, he held up a forestalling hand to ward off whatever he was going to say and keep the subject on topic. “Didja have some kind of fallin’ out?”<br>

[Gambit]

Opening his mouth to throw off some sort of smart-ass comment in reply to Logan’s words, Remy held it back, when the older man raised a hand, and continued with his questions. But the next question caused him to chuckle humourlessly.

“Fallin’ out? Kinda hard t’ have a fallin’ out when dere be not’in’ t’ fall outta,” he replied, taking a drink of the beer. Closing his eyes, he remembered what he had said to her, the look of fear on her face at his actions. “Les’ jus’ say dat our last... conversation didn’t go all dat well.”<br>

[Logan]

Logan watched him carefully, nodding when he got to the end, and taking a sip of his own beer. He scanned the bar while he thought about what Gambit had said, then looked back at the Cajun with a questioning look.

Part of him wanted to ask where he had seen her, though the somewhat anguished look on Gambit’s face stopped that line of questioning in its tracks. Instead, he just shook his head, blowing a pent up breath out roughly.

“Well, if it makes ya feel any better, things ain’t exactly been too smooth back at the school either.” He looked up at Gambit. “In fact, I haven’t lived there for…awhile now.”<br>

[Gambit]

Grateful when Logan didn’t press him on the matter, Gambit slowly slid the glass back and forth across the table, watching the amber liquid move within, almost spilling at each stop, but never quite making it over the lip of the glass.

Guess I ain’ de only one dat found it damn near impossible livin’ under de same roof o’ de doppelganger o’ de one I love. Guess Logan did de smart t’ing, t’ough, an’ got de hell out b’fo’ he cracked.

“Sorry t’ hear dat, mon ami, but oui. Dat does make me feel a bit better,” he joked with a half smirk. “She even know why y’ left?”<br>
A memory of talking to Storm in a bar quickly flitted past his mind, and he felt that it probably had some sort of importance, but couldn’t place what. From his scattered thoughts, he could only remember that he had spoken to her on that night that alcohol had made remembering anything almost impossible, and so the words were completely lost.

[Logan]

“Says she just remembered,” he said in regard to their short-lived relationship, “though she doesn’t seem to remember a lot of other things.” Logan narrowed his eyes as he thought about that. It almost seemed like there was something a little fishy about what she had said to him. He shook his head, unable to get his head around it right now.

“Guess it’s either that, or some loudmouth do-gooder musta filled her in on it.” Shrugging his broad shoulders he looked at Gambit. “Not that it matters either way. What’s done is done.”<br>
He suddenly realized he was talking about himself, and shook his head again, looking to divert the subject away from himself. “You runnin’ from yer…situation, or do you plan on facin’ it?”<br>

[Gambit]

As Logan spoke of Storm, the inkling in the back of Gambit’s brain increased, but he shrugged it off in favour of the pain numbing liquid before him. Although it didn’t work nearly as well as the pills he had taken earlier.

And then the topic went back to him.

“Don’ really got much o’ a choice no more, now do I?” he shot back, his eyes flashing for a moment behind his shades. “I tried avoidin’ it, an’... mais, les’ jus’ say dat it wasn’t a belle picture.”<br>
Avoiding the situation only caused everything to build up inside him, until he broke, and let it all out, hurting the ones he cared about the most in the process.

“Already gave runnin’ a shot too, an’ y’ seen first hand how dat turned out. Seems t’ me dere only be one option left.”<br>

[Logan]

At Gambit’s outburst, Logan looked up, catching the briefest hint of a flash of red from behind his trademark sunglasses. Without saying a word, he reached across the table and grabbed his empty glass, pouring another frothy mug-full in and sliding it back over to him as a kind of peace offering.

“There only ever is one choice in a situation like that, Cajun. Like you, I’m just now startin’ ta see that.”<br>
He gave him a serious look, and then spoke in a bit of a quieter tone. “And I don’t need ta see yer eyes to know that you’re getting’ completely hammered here.” Logan let loose a deep-bellied laugh. “You able ta hold all that liquor and keep up with the heavy weight?”<br>
It really wasn’t fair to try and put that kind of pressure on him. There really was no physical way possible for Gambit to keep up with Logan in the area of drinking.

[Gambit]

Giving Logan a slightly apologetic look for flying off then handle, the Cajun’s red eyes slowly lost their fire and returned to their normal red on black.

“I could drink jus’ ‘bout anybody under de table on a good day,” Gambit replied defiantly, before a lopsided smirk settled on his face. “But you ain’ jus’ anybody... an’ dis sure as hell ain’ a good day.”<br>
In truth, he hadn’t consumed a great deal of alcohol yet, and it shouldn’t be affecting him much. But with the pain and the painkillers added to the mix... Logan’s assessment was right on the nose.

Suddenly, the whole situation struck the Cajun as down right hilarious, if not almost tragic.

“Jus’ look at us! Quite de pair we make, non? Life sure be enjoyin’ kickin’ us in de teeth lately,” he said through his laughter, shaking his head, his shaggy hair falling over the frames of the glasses.

[Logan]

Seeing Gambit do a 180 from looking like he was going to lash out at Logan, to laughing at their collective pain, made Logan laugh out loud. It was pretty ironic the similarities of the situations that they both seemed to find themselves in. Not anything that he normally would have laughed at, but for some reason right now it came off as funny.

“Maybe what we need is ta pick another fight in here or somethin’. Might be good for ya to work off some of those anger problems you got.”<br>
The irony of Logan telling anyone about their ‘anger problems’ was staggering.

[Gambit]

“Anger problems? Moi?” Gambit replied, his eyebrows shooting up at this statement coming from the Wolverine. Shaking his head, he refrained from comment.

“Hmm... t’ fight, or not t’ fight,” he wondered aloud, stroking his chin in an exaggerated thinking motion. “I dunno, homme. Ain’ I been in enough fights t’night? I get de feelin’ de first shot I take t’ de ribs gonna put me down.”<br>
Although it hurt his pride to admit it, he was in rough shape, and most likely wouldn’t end up the winner in any fight this soon. Slipping one hand under his coat, he gingerly touched his side, imagining the large purple bruises he was sure covered his body beneath the clothing.

Hopefully dere jus’ be a few bruises, an’ no fractures.

[Logan]

Logan laughed again at Gambit’s choice of words. “Yer prolly right. I don’t think you can take much more of a butt-kickin’ today.” Still, a bar fight was something that he could really go for…<br>
Looking at the clock on the wall, Logan rubbed his eyes with the backside of his hand. This night was seeming like it was going on forever, and Logan was if anything emotionally drained. Still, talking with the Cajun had been oddly enough…friendly.

At one time Gambit had been considered an enemy of his, and that seemed like it was not that long ago. Now he looked across the table at a man who he had been through a lot together. Someone he most certainly was starting to view as a friend.

This thought, of course, caused a bit of a dilemma. If Gambit still worked for Magneto, and Logan had a strong suspicion that he did, how could he have a friend in the enemy’s camp?

“It’s been a long night, Cajun.” Standing up, he emptied out his pocket, throwing the other half of the money they had taken from the thugs onto the table. “You gonna be alright ta drive outta here?” he nodded over his shoulder.