Disclaimer:
Hi there.  Sabretooth, Logan and Jean Grey are all characters copyrighted by 
Marvel.
Mulder & Scully belong to Ten Thirteen Productions, I believe, or Twentieth 
Century Fox Film Corporation.  Everything else is my own creation, except 
New York.  Maybe we can blame the dolphins.

Here There Be Tygers, part V
Sean Venning, April, 1996

	
Jean Grey paced anxiously across the small room.  Logan was fifteen minutes 
late, and in another five she was going to go out and scan for him.  

*how can he do this to me*

She stiffened.  Closing her eyes, she concentrated a moment, then ran over 
to the door and pulled it open as Logan tumbled in.

"What the hell happened to you?" She exploded.

"Feds here are just like home.  Get me food, quickly."

"You're bleeding!  What happened?"

"Got shot.  I need food, Jean.  Protein.  A big steak, rare.  Several of 
them.  This hole'll heal, but I need energy to do it."  

Shouldering past Jean, he stumbled over to the fridge and opened it.  
Grabbing the complementary carton of milk, he tore it open and swallowed 
it's contents.  Behind him Jean shut the door and locked it, then turned to 
look at him.  The back of his jacket was black with congealed blood and she 
could see the bloody mess of his chest reflected in the mirror.  Shrugging 
off the abused jacket, Logan stumbled into the bathroom and twisted on the 
taps over the washbowl, staining them red.

"Is there room service?"

"Just a minute, I'm on it."

Jean picked up the handset and started to dial, but paused as Logan started 
swearing behind her.

"What is it?"

"A bullet through the chest tends to hurt.  That way you know it's happened."

 Jean spoke briefly on the telephone then hung it up.  

 "Can you face the dining room?"

Logan stepped out of the bathroom, carefully towelling himself off.

"I'll need the spare jacket first."

He threw the reddened towel back into the bathroom as Jean leaned over to 
grab the new jacket from the bed.

 "Here.  Now let's go."

She held it for him as he awkwardly pulled it on.

"You'd think," Logan began, "That just for once, when someone shot me, it'd 
bounce offa one of m' bones."

Jean smiled.

"I think you're going to live."

	******************************************************************

New York

9:45 pm, Wednesday

"Am I going to live, doctor?"

"Just.  Either our Mister Logan was wearing some form of shin pad, or he's 
hurting just as bad as you.  If I didn't know better, I'd have said someone 
had hit you with an iron bar.  You're going to feel those bruises  for quite 
a while, weeks probably."

"Great.  What I want to know is how did he cut my gun like that?"

"I don't know.  I wouldn't have thought it possible.  Even assuming a blade 
both strong enough and sharp enough to do it, the muscle strength required 
would be phenomenal.  Not just his, either.  Why wasn't it knocked out of 
your hand first?"

"I don't know.  I barely felt it."

"Well he shouldn't have been able to do it."

"Tell that to my pistol," he gestured towards the bisected weapon on the table.

Dana looked at the now useless pieces of metal.

"Well, I've posted a notice to the hospitals, and judging by the amount of 
blood we found, he'll need one soon."

"Fine.  The sooner we find him, the sooner we can get a line on this 'Creed' 
person."

"And then?"

"Hope we catch him in a good mood."  

		**********************************************

"How is it?"

"Mmm.  Good.  Rare, just like the last one."

"I meant the shoulder, Logan."

"Better.  Almost feels as good as new."

"Care to tell me what happened?  Exactly?"

"Exactly?  I got shot by a fed."

"Where?"

"In the shoulder.  Ain't you been payin' attention Jeanie?"

"Logan."

"Ok Jeanie.  I popped past one of Creed's old haunts, and bumped into a 
couple of Feds who were lookin' for him.  We talked, I tried to warn them 
off, and one of them shot me."

"Just up and shot you?  That's not very friendly."

"So I might have looked like I was goin' ta gut one of them.  It was a fair 
shot.  She warned me before she fired."

"She?  You tried to hit a woman?"

"If I had tried to hit one of them, I wouldn't have a shirt with a hole in 
it now.  Besides, the one I hit wasn't a woman."

"Did you hurt him?"

"Nah.  Just tripped him up.  I'd like to know what they were doing there, 
though.  One of them said something about being tipped off by some anonymous 
woman.  Funny thing is, I don't think Creed had been there.  I couldn't pick 
up a scent, and the place looked untouched."

"But it couldn't have been a set up, even I didn't know where you were 
going, and no one knows we're here."

"Roma does."

"But why would she try to stop us, unless that wasn't the idea.  Could she 
have sent them to help us?"

"If she felt it was necessary."

"We'd better find out what they know then."

"They've seen me.  Your turn."

"Do you know where we can find them?"

"They're working on the killings.  Local cops would know where to find them. 
 It's late now, and I'd guess that Agents Scully and Mulder are trying to 
work out what hit them.  I'd say that first thing in the morning we give 
them a call.  And now I want dessert."

"Don't tell me, let me guess.  The mud cake?"

"The mud cake."

		***************************************************

The tall figure strode along the footpath, apparently lost in thought.  
Across the road from him the park was shrouded in darkness.  Around him the 
crowds surged, oblivious to the killer in their midst.  He smiled, a self 
satisfied look upon his broad features.  Breathing deeply, he stopped and 
turned about, cats eyes scanning the masses.  Finding nothing suitable, he 
continued on his way, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his overcoat, 
blonde hair tousled by the wind.

After a short while he stopped again, and repeated his earlier actions.  
Again casually looking about the pedestrians surrounding him, this time he 
paused, his eyes narrowing.  Stepping closer a nearby wall, he watched a 
young couple walking back the way he had come.  Moments later he started 
walking again, following the two he had chosen.  Oblivious to their shadow, 
they continued on.

"So Sal, where to now?"

"Don't call me 'Sal', you pig!' she thumped him playfully.

"Touchy tonight, are we?  Well, I guess you're just going to have to go 
straight home to bed without any fun, young lady," he stuck up his chin self 
righteously.

"Look here Mister Brooks.  If I don't get any, *you* don't get any.  So 
there, nyah," she said, with a poke of her tongue.

"Right.  That's it," and grabbing her wrist he led her into the park.  
Behind them Creed almost stopped, dumbfounded.

*this is all just too easy*

Casually looking about him, he strode through the gates into the park.

"So sally.  What do you think?"

"About what?"

"About here."

"Do you mean...?"

"Yep.  I sure do."

"I'm dating a pervert.  That's what I think.  Come here."

Creed watched the pair as they backed into some bushes.

*time for a laugh*

Walking over to the giggling couple, he leaned over and tapped the youth on 
the shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in?"

"Wha..?  Hey, get out of it!"

Creed grabbed him by the back of the neck and lifted him into the air.  
Below, the girl started to scream.

"Nooo!  Jack!  Do something!"

"That's it, Honey, scream!" bellowed Creed, as the youth pummelled him 
ineffectually about the head.

"Let me go!" screamed the Jack, still flailing at Creed.  The tall man 
laughed, then lowered him till their faces were level.  

"There's something of yours I want, first," he purred.

"Take it!  Take it!"

Creed's smile widened.

"Nice of you to offer.  But I was goin' ta take it anyway."

"It's yours!"

Creed looked down at the now whimpering girl.

"Watch this, Sweets."

Turning back to the unfortunate youth, Creed's smile widened even more.

"Tell me if you feel this."

Before the youth could respond, Creed's left arm slashed across his body, 
leaving red streamers in its wake.  The youth screamed, a high, wavering 
scream.  Creed watched him for a moment, laughing again, then dragged his 
claws down the boy's torso, from neck to belt.  The boy's body started to 
twitch as his blood sprayed over the three of them, steaming in the cold 
night air.  Reaching down, Creed took hold of one of the boy's legs, then 
flexed.  After a moment there was a loud popping sound as Creed snapped the 
boy's back.  Dropping the body before the stunned girl, Creed looked down in 
surprise as a low moan escaped from the boy's mouth.

"Well I am sorry," said Creed, "That was meant to kill you.  Try this!"

Lifting his right foot, he brought it crunching down onto the boy's throat.  
There was no further sound.  Creed looked down at the cringing girl.

"Having fun yet?" he leered.

"Why?' she whispered.

"Just 'cause.  Fun, ain't it?"

"Who are you?" 

Creed leaned forward to wipe a drop of blood from her cheek, then traced his 
forefinger along her jawline, leaving a faint red line.

"Me?  I'm Creed," he said, tilting her head gently back, "But that's not 
what most people call me." 

 Tears streaming from her eyes, the girl didn't make a noise, unable to 
break his gaze.  With barely a sound, Creed brought his other hand arcing 
past her, opening both the carotid and jugular as he did.  As her eyes 
glazed over, Creed spoke again.

"Most people call me Sabretooth." 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Sean D. Venning                   |Remember; If you can't carry the oranges
 chsdv@pippin.cc.flinders.edu.au   |              Don't wash the cat   
 Flinders Uni - Bedford Park - SA  |                      =)