A Drink for the Wolvster Author: Celeste Disclaimer: I don’t own Wolverine *Logan* or the other X-Men. I make no money off of this. Guess the bartender is mine though, so nyah. few naughty words...hehe..You know I can’t resist those colorful words A Drink for the Wolvster The man who went by many names sat on top of the dingy stool attempting to drink his dark secrets away. Of course, there were many of them, and so many rounds of the numbing alcohol were required. It was perhaps the ultimate prank of the universe that he couldn’t really place most of his darker atrocities with his memory. Yet, he knew they were there. He smirked to himself, his mouth turning into humorless lines across his rugged face, as he downed another of the ruddy colored mug. A special ‘gift’ that had been given to him made the intoxicating effects of the beer take hold for only a moment before it dissipated. Floating away before he could even revel in the bubbling effects for more then a few minutes. Logan again focused his sight on the man who wiped the mugs clean with a small towel. “Hey Bub.” He muttered, turning to the bartender with blue eyes that flickered lightly of the depression the man was entertaining behind them. “Ya?” The tender asked, placing the glass on a shelf that was out of Logan’s line of sight. “What’cha need?” “’Nother brew.” A click signaled the lighting of the cigar currently between his thin lips. A long drag was taken, savored within Logan’s lungs. Soon after, he released a great cloud of smoke at the keeper, the plume curling around the baldhead. The elder bartender didn’t even flinch, obviously used to that type of response. Logan smiled. “Make it quick.” He nodded. “All right. Need ta tell ya, you’re over the limit.” “Ya. Bet I am.” He took another drag. “Got a problem with servin one more round?” The bartender shook his head. “Nope. Ain’t hurtin my wallet.” “Good.” Logan replied. The fresh mug was then placed in front of him. Logan set down the amount it cost on the table, followed by a tip for the bartender’s sense to overlook the minor drink limit. Normally he would have enjoyed roughing up any man who thought he could say when was enough, but the spirit was gone for that night. His last mission had been very exhausting. Not so much physically as the mental strain it had took on him. The X-Men had encountered a very powerful telepath, whose main specialty had been serving up a look at the side people normally tried to hide from themselves. And, once the bitch had given Logan his own look at the shadows that haunted his mind’s closet, he had forgone the normal policy of X-Men don’t kill. Logan had run her through with all six of his claws. The coolness of the liquor was welcomed down his raw throat. It was a funny thing how a simple fight with Cyk could bring out more growls from anger then when he would hunt or communicate with the other wolves under the moon. The bone headed leader of the group had made some excellent points. However, when two equally stubborn people were knocking heads, not much was really going to be accomplished. So he’d left. Not for good, ‘cause he always ended up going back. Too many people he cared fiercely about lived under that roof, or never very far away. It was also easy to keep tabs on Kitty or Jubes from the Mansion. Even though he might take off for a few weeks, months, or even years. Logan never stopped thinking about them for very long. The amber beer again pulled his attention, and he downed another long gulp. Things were definitely not looking good for him. So far, in the last month alone, he’d ran into a number of ‘work’ related injuries. He’d been shot, stabbed, bludgeoned, blasted, four different telepathic assaults, ran over by a bus, radiated, and kicked in the nuts. One had to wonder why superheroes all over the world weren’t dropping like flies. And the worst part of it all was he couldn’t even get drunk. It would have driven a lesser man to insanity. But, not Logan aka Wolverine. All he had to do was lose himself in some dump of a bar and nurse his troubles away with a couple of cases of beer. Damn his healing factor. He quickly polished the rest of the mug off and stood up to leave. The Bartender looked over at him and frowned. “Hope your planning on walkn’ pal.” Logan glanced at the man with humor glittering in his eyes for the first time. “Ya, haven’t been robbed yet. Might cheer me up.” With that, he pulled on his jacket and wandered into the awaiting night.