[ They've taken Hank's truck (with permission), Logan making up some excuse about "field trips" that Charles saw through immediately thanks to the telepathy. The best thing, though, is that Charles allowed them to go anyway.
So it's the dead of night and there isn't much light save for the flickering bulbs near the entrance of the motorcycle junkyard -- so useless, so god damn out of the way, that there isn't even a security guard around to make sure idiots like Logan and Peter aren't going to cause any mischief. In Logan's defence, he doesn't intend on doing anything especially stupid, but he's learned not to put so much faith in the kid in the passenger's seat.
The only thing Logan does is break the lock to the gate with his claws, but besides that he leaves Peter free reign, shrugging as he jerks his head in the direction of the collection of essentially dead bikes. Sure, they can't run for shit now, but that's the whole point of it, isn't it?
Can't fix up a bike that isn't broken. ]
Take your pick. [ He chuckles. ] I'll catch up to ya.
[despite the time of day, peter is staring out into the inky night, window rolled down so he can hold his hand up and 'ride' the air currents. he still can't believe charles let them go, although he's more than a hundred percent sure the telepath knows they aren't going on a field trip.
logan speaks and quicksilver perks, leaning out the window to get a better look at the refuse heap. no guard? awesome, but even better? he's getting total free reign on this place to hunt down an old bike they'll be able to break down and restore in any way they want.]
Rad, [he breathes with emphasis, eyes glittering enthusiastically.] Don't take too long.
[flashing a grin over his shoulder, his hands raise, sliding the goggles into place before he zips off. it doesn't take him long, either. a lot of the bikes he comes across are easily passed by, but there's one: an old seventies style harley catches his eye that has plenty of abuse. he'd really thought about the kawasaki sitting a few feet behind him, except they aren't two-seaters. why have a bike that can't have company?]
[ Logan's following Peter's scent by the time the kid calls him over.
Running the entire way isn't a problem, thanks to the stamina. The real problem is that when he sees the Harley his first thought is of his older brother, and it threatens the stability of his mind for all of a second before he stands by Peter's side. ]
Shit. [ Will he talk about the small thorn in his brain? No. He isn't repressing his thoughts, either, finding that that tends to make his mind "rocky". Fortunately, the amused tilt to his lips isn't faked.
Logan really does like Harleys when it all boils down to it, and turning this one into a chopper makes some weird nostalgia fill him up.
Then again, a lot of things about Peter inspire the same vein of feeling. ]
The forties' model was my favourite. [ It comes out with its own kind of sentiment, and like many other warm emotions it's subtle in Logan's voice. ] But you got a good eye.
What colour were you thinking? [ It's Logan's turn to look around, sniffing the air for the significant tang of metal alloys unique to the Harley-Davidson build. ] We're scavenging for parts, too.
[by the time logan sniffs him out, peter's already gone over the bike more than a few times, checking out what they'll need to do, what still seems decent and what might need an overhaul entirely.
the curse draws his attention, an eyebrow raised as he glances the wolverine's way.] You good?
[not that he understands logan's reaction, but the smile on his face reassures the speedster.] Thanks. [he grins in return, turns back to the bike, reaching to run a hand over the rusted handlebars.] That was mine, too, actually. Don't see any around here, though.
Want me to be cliché? 'Cause I was thinking maybe flames. [he scans the area once more, keen eyes on the lookout for the familiar model.] Dude, I know I already said it, but this is going to be awesome.
Flames. [ Logan repeats the word with a healthy mix of disbelief and amusement, but ultimate nods his head, a hand on his hip. ] Then I guess we're going to have to spray paint that on, aren't we.
You can roll that back to the truck, right? [ He nods his head in the Harley's direction. ] Just roll it up to the side, I'll carry it into the bed if you can't lift it.
[ His claws shoot out with their trademark sharp sound, shining even in the shitty bulb light of the equally shitty junkyard. ] I'll rip some parts off meanwhile and you can take 'em back and forth.
Or, like— [he kneels down to stretch his hands across the side.] Badass silver streaks. Oh, my God, [peter stops, straightening back up and snapping his fingers like he's had the most genius idea.] Holographic. [is he joking? is he not? hard to tell with the way he's smiling.]
Sure can. [zipping around the other side, he leans over the bike, hands securing around the handles while he nudges the kickstand up.] Probably can't dead-lift it like you.
Works for me, though. [he rolls the motorcycle back then hurries it over to the truck-- faster than a normal person, yet slow enough that he doesn't burn any rubber. it takes him a moment, getting it up into the bed, but he manages to do so, rushing back to logan's side once he finishes.]
So, those claws of your's can cut through anything?
[ Peter's question is abrupt, but Logan answers without skipping a beat: ] Yep.
[ And just to make a point of it, he uses a single claw to slice the outward, decorative shell of a half-intact Harley without damaging it. It goes in a smooth motion, but it's not just because of the adamantium -- Logan's clearly got experience.
This plate goes along with an engine he'd picked out. There are some screws gathered together atop a dark handkerchief, too. ]
First day I had 'em, I cut a sink in half. [ A pause. ] Accidentally.
[and peter's eyebrows arch with interest, lips curving high as he watches logan's claw glide through the piece like a hot knife through butter.]
Da-yum, [he emphasizes.] Sharp blades to go with those skills. [because don't think he didn't notice how expertly that framework had been removed. a whole other thing that quicksilver can appreciate while he rushes parts back and forth.
the last thing he comes for are the screws. he pauses when knotting them up in the bandanna, mocha-tinted irides flicking up to logan's face before he darts away and back again. only then does he ask:]
A sink? Bet whoever had to fix that was confused as hell.
[ Another reality is that whoever had to fix it ended up dying.
Logan thinks about it, though, and wonders for all of a second if in this new timeline all the people he's brought misery to have survived instead. Of course, this only serves to make his head hurt -- to bring up a spell of dizziness that threatens to sever his tie to the past -- and he rubs briefly at his left temple and shakes his head once, twice, to get the small hints of anxiety out. ]
Better a sink than a person, though. [ Logan lifts an engine up, hefting it over his shoulder. ] Or, hell. A fucking animal.
[while the speedster continues his back and forth collecting, he comes to an immediate halt when he sees logan holding and shaking his head.
concern wrinkles peter's features, though he manages to keep himself from asking if logan's all right. he's seen anxiety before, the multitudes of ways the disorder appears in people-- himself included with that bunch. sometimes, a moment is simply needed to reground oneself, remind them they're here, they're alive, and to just breathe.
which is exactly what peter gives him before moving to cup a hand beneath the end of the engine, his free one palm flat and fingers splayed against logan's shoulderblade.]
Yeah, totally. [he applies the slightest pressure, reassurance in the firmness of his touch.] That would've been messy.
[ The touch surprises him. Logan doesn't ignore it, instead letting his head turn to meet Peter's eyes, a silent question in his own gaze -- what are you doing?
He doesn't look offended or anything. Just... surprised. Surprised that Peter would want to do something like that, comfort him like that.
Shit. Logan's got to stop being so fucking terrible at these things. ]
It. Messy. Sure. [ Ugh, God. ] How the hell did your powers come, anyway?
[his immediate reaction is to withdraw, too quickly for his own liking, but logan hadn't seemed all that comfortable with what he'd done. the surprise on the other's face registers late and peter's features crease with uncertainty.
he doesn't know how to answer right away, either, though he's sure as hell quick on the draw when his face flushes with embarrassment.]
Oh, uh— [quicksilver fumbles, which only makes him blush more because where the hell did all his eloquence suddenly go?]
During a time when I was still in school, actually.
Got made fun of sometimes because of the hair. [which lets him use the hand not on the engine (whether he's helping or not) to ruffle through the platinum strands hanging in his face.
he brushes them aside with a shrug, giving a somewhat disappointed sigh.] When the mutation kicked in, though. [his eyes roll as he gestures offhandedly toward his head.] It made the lessons too slow. I struggled a lot, but Charles can handle the way I learn. I'm almost all caught up.
Oh! One good thing about high school, though? Broke eight world records in track and field. [a wistful grin.] Best year ever.
[ His lips pull into a frown, as they tend to whenever he hears kids' stories. It's rarely ever anything good, and though Peter's isn't the worst one he's heard, he thinks about a younger Quicksilver all by himself -- isolated, alone because his world was different.
And yet here he is, thinking of the good things anyway. Peter's smile has always been bright, but it seems brighter in comparison to the frown that colours Logan's own features; it reminds him of the war, of when Logan was angry and miserable and mourning, and Peter Maximoff was there to remind him of what measly, small things could count as "good" for soldiers like them. That they were still alive. That at least they had each other.
(Until Logan didn't have him any more, but at least he has him now.) ]
Guinness book actually let you put your times in? [ Logan doubts it, but he knows he might as well ask. They reach the truck and he sets the engine down, and then makes sure everything is secure before closing the back portion. ] You were in high school in... what, the 70's, right? [ Dusting his hands off, he makes his way to the driver's side. ] Pretty sure there weren't any mutant laws then.
[from the corner of his eye, peter can see logan's frown and for a split second, his own expression falters, but he's quick on the uptake. it's not hard to imagine how someone would feel in that situation; he did have his moments where his smile went away for long periods of time. thankfully, his mother and sisters were there to help remind him of why he'd stuck around.
having a mutation that didn't run him out was a plus there. he's heard horror stories and is absolutely grateful that ms maximoff continued putting up with him, despite his klepto tendencies.]
For a while. [he gives a rueful sigh this time.]
Obviously, something was weirder about the kid with silver hair than they thought, so there's no way they'd keep them in. [peter zips around to the opposite side, pulling the door open and climbing up into the seat.] Yeah, that's right. Back when it was easier because nobody knew.
Shit. [ He laughs both at the idea of the "kid with silver hair" and the thought of things being easy, and then sits in the driver's seat, ignoring the way the truck dips a little under the weight of all that adamantium. ] You got my condolences.
Hope you kept the book with your name in it, though.
[ Turning the engine on, Logan's shift into first gear is easy, and smooth when it slips into second and he starts to drive away. ] I'd love to see that.
[he snorts, too, head shaking fondly at the both of them. nothing has ever been 'easy' for mutants and peter knows that, but it's funny to think back when he was younger, when things really were more simple and all he dealt with was stupid comments about his hair he could ignore.] Thanks, man.
You know I did. [his grin is the absolute definition of smug.
as they being leaving the junkyard, that little thing starts happening again. the hairs on the back of his neck stick up, like an invisible intuition he's never been able to describe and that's when he sees it--] Logan, look out—! [but he knows they won't be able to brake fast enough.
everything stops, the vehicle door flies open and quicksilver dives out, scooping a small puppy up underneath his arm. he can feel the tire on his fingertips, smell the hot rubber just as he tumbles them out of the way and time becomes normal again.]
[ When Peter says "look out", Logan barely has time to think about braking before the kid disappears completely. And that, if anything, really makes him stomp on the brakes, his eyes wide as he looks around in nothing short of panic.
He picks Peter up a few steps away from the centre of the road, but it isn't just him. Around the smell of the gasoline and the inevitable burn that came with braking so suddenly, he picks up something... canine, and for once it isn't himself.
Frowning, he sticks his head out the window, staring at the boy and the puppy in his arms. ]
What the hell.
[ Because where the hell did the animal even come from? ]
[even when logan pulls up the short distance away, peter stays sitting on the ground, curled protectively around the whimpering bundle in his jacket. he's almost afraid to look-- if he opens his eyes, will they be safe? are they still part of this world?
but of course they are because he's way too quick to be outdone by a vehicle.
he heaves a breath and finally stands, arms still encircling himself as he meets logan's gaze. then, with slight tentativeness, quicksilver opens his coat and out squirms the adorable wrinkly pup, yipping excitedly despite being secured in his hands.]
Yeah, but it's cool— I got him!
[now that he's sure they're all okay, he clambers back into the truck, letting their new addition tumble around on the seat.] God, Logan ... [he focuses solely on the other man's face.] It's so goddamn cute.
[ The first thing Logan thinks to say is: ] Why are you looking at me like that.
[ Because the pup is making itself comfortable on Peter's chair, making vague noises and sniffing everywhere, and Logan's gaze is shifting from said rapscallion puppy to Peter where he stands by his side. ]
[in case the other man had any doubts,] Come on, Logan! We almost ran him over. [a pause, long enough for him to reach out and scoop the pup up into his arms.] The least we could do is take him home, bathe him and give him some food.
[yes, 'him' is what peter's using, despite not knowing if it's actually a male or female.]
We gotta. [another brief moment of hesitation before an idea pops into his head and he makes his features downturn.] Kurt'd tell us it's our christian duty ... and I'm not gonna be the one to explain that a defenseless little puppy got left in the middle of the road.
[ Logan's expression flattens. ] I'm not Christian. [ And sure, he had been at some point, but that phase has long since passed.
Still, the puppy's snuggling up into Peter with a kindness that isn't necessarily nothing. ]
A bath and some food. [ His tone is firm, but he keeps his gaze off Peter and his puppy pal in fear of his resolve crumbling. God damn it. ] And then we're finding him some real owners.
Okay, but what about being the good in the world you wanna see or whatever? Don't have to be religious for that one.
[peter shifts slightly in his seat, allows the pup to settle in his lap where it starts dozing without hesitation. if he were the type— aw, who's he kidding? he's totally the type to make an incoherent high-pitched noise, trying to keep from the disturbing his little snuggle buddy.
logan's reluctant acceptance of getting the little guy food and bathing him only furthers his blatant excitement.] Yeah, yeah. A bath and food then we'll go from there.
[ Logan already knows he's going to regret saying yes to this, but doesn't try to argue any more than he already has as he starts the drive back home.
It's not too far from here to the mansion, and Logan drives the truck back into the garage instead of dropping Peter and the dog off at the front doors. And, speaking of that god damn little critter, he decides to leave taking the motorcycle in the back out for later.
Bath and food first.
As they enter the kitchen from the door in the garage, Logan crinkles his nose. ] You know how to bathe that thing?
[quicksilver wastes no time scooping the pup up into his arms and leaping out of the truck once they've gotten home, doing his best to keep his (possibly literal) vibrating under control.
he follows close behind logan, peers around the taller man, making sure no one else is going to see their newly gained little bundle. once he deems it safe enough, peter darts around him and makes a beeline toward the fridge.]
Sure do! Do we have any eggs? [asked as he's scanning the refrigerator trays, of course.] They'd be soft enough for him to eat and they're safe for dogs.
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houseofsushi2017-03-26 08:43 pm
taking this post's virginity as a metaphor for
[ They've taken Hank's truck (with permission), Logan making up some excuse about "field trips" that Charles saw through immediately thanks to the telepathy. The best thing, though, is that Charles allowed them to go anyway.
So it's the dead of night and there isn't much light save for the flickering bulbs near the entrance of the motorcycle junkyard -- so useless, so god damn out of the way, that there isn't even a security guard around to make sure idiots like Logan and Peter aren't going to cause any mischief. In Logan's defence, he doesn't intend on doing anything especially stupid, but he's learned not to put so much faith in the kid in the passenger's seat.
The only thing Logan does is break the lock to the gate with his claws, but besides that he leaves Peter free reign, shrugging as he jerks his head in the direction of the collection of essentially dead bikes. Sure, they can't run for shit now, but that's the whole point of it, isn't it?
Can't fix up a bike that isn't broken. ]
Take your pick. [ He chuckles. ] I'll catch up to ya.
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logan speaks and quicksilver perks, leaning out the window to get a better look at the refuse heap. no guard? awesome, but even better? he's getting total free reign on this place to hunt down an old bike they'll be able to break down and restore in any way they want.]
Rad, [he breathes with emphasis, eyes glittering enthusiastically.] Don't take too long.
[flashing a grin over his shoulder, his hands raise, sliding the goggles into place before he zips off. it doesn't take him long, either. a lot of the bikes he comes across are easily passed by, but there's one: an old seventies style harley catches his eye that has plenty of abuse. he'd really thought about the kawasaki sitting a few feet behind him, except they aren't two-seaters. why have a bike that can't have company?]
Holy shit— Logan, you gotta see this!
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Running the entire way isn't a problem, thanks to the stamina. The real problem is that when he sees the Harley his first thought is of his older brother, and it threatens the stability of his mind for all of a second before he stands by Peter's side. ]
Shit. [ Will he talk about the small thorn in his brain? No. He isn't repressing his thoughts, either, finding that that tends to make his mind "rocky". Fortunately, the amused tilt to his lips isn't faked.
Logan really does like Harleys when it all boils down to it, and turning this one into a chopper makes some weird nostalgia fill him up.
Then again, a lot of things about Peter inspire the same vein of feeling. ]
The forties' model was my favourite. [ It comes out with its own kind of sentiment, and like many other warm emotions it's subtle in Logan's voice. ] But you got a good eye.
What colour were you thinking? [ It's Logan's turn to look around, sniffing the air for the significant tang of metal alloys unique to the Harley-Davidson build. ] We're scavenging for parts, too.
Inner and outer.
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the curse draws his attention, an eyebrow raised as he glances the wolverine's way.] You good?
[not that he understands logan's reaction, but the smile on his face reassures the speedster.] Thanks. [he grins in return, turns back to the bike, reaching to run a hand over the rusted handlebars.] That was mine, too, actually. Don't see any around here, though.
Want me to be cliché? 'Cause I was thinking maybe flames. [he scans the area once more, keen eyes on the lookout for the familiar model.] Dude, I know I already said it, but this is going to be awesome.
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You can roll that back to the truck, right? [ He nods his head in the Harley's direction. ] Just roll it up to the side, I'll carry it into the bed if you can't lift it.
[ His claws shoot out with their trademark sharp sound, shining even in the shitty bulb light of the equally shitty junkyard. ] I'll rip some parts off meanwhile and you can take 'em back and forth.
Sound good?
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Sure can. [zipping around the other side, he leans over the bike, hands securing around the handles while he nudges the kickstand up.] Probably can't dead-lift it like you.
Works for me, though. [he rolls the motorcycle back then hurries it over to the truck-- faster than a normal person, yet slow enough that he doesn't burn any rubber. it takes him a moment, getting it up into the bed, but he manages to do so, rushing back to logan's side once he finishes.]
So, those claws of your's can cut through anything?
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[ And just to make a point of it, he uses a single claw to slice the outward, decorative shell of a half-intact Harley without damaging it. It goes in a smooth motion, but it's not just because of the adamantium -- Logan's clearly got experience.
This plate goes along with an engine he'd picked out. There are some screws gathered together atop a dark handkerchief, too. ]
First day I had 'em, I cut a sink in half. [ A pause. ] Accidentally.
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Da-yum, [he emphasizes.] Sharp blades to go with those skills. [because don't think he didn't notice how expertly that framework had been removed. a whole other thing that quicksilver can appreciate while he rushes parts back and forth.
the last thing he comes for are the screws. he pauses when knotting them up in the bandanna, mocha-tinted irides flicking up to logan's face before he darts away and back again. only then does he ask:]
A sink? Bet whoever had to fix that was confused as hell.
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[ Another reality is that whoever had to fix it ended up dying.
Logan thinks about it, though, and wonders for all of a second if in this new timeline all the people he's brought misery to have survived instead. Of course, this only serves to make his head hurt -- to bring up a spell of dizziness that threatens to sever his tie to the past -- and he rubs briefly at his left temple and shakes his head once, twice, to get the small hints of anxiety out. ]
Better a sink than a person, though. [ Logan lifts an engine up, hefting it over his shoulder. ] Or, hell. A fucking animal.
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concern wrinkles peter's features, though he manages to keep himself from asking if logan's all right. he's seen anxiety before, the multitudes of ways the disorder appears in people-- himself included with that bunch. sometimes, a moment is simply needed to reground oneself, remind them they're here, they're alive, and to just breathe.
which is exactly what peter gives him before moving to cup a hand beneath the end of the engine, his free one palm flat and fingers splayed against logan's shoulderblade.]
Yeah, totally. [he applies the slightest pressure, reassurance in the firmness of his touch.] That would've been messy.
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He doesn't look offended or anything. Just... surprised. Surprised that Peter would want to do something like that, comfort him like that.
Shit. Logan's got to stop being so fucking terrible at these things. ]
It. Messy. Sure. [ Ugh, God. ] How the hell did your powers come, anyway?
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he doesn't know how to answer right away, either, though he's sure as hell quick on the draw when his face flushes with embarrassment.]
Oh, uh— [quicksilver fumbles, which only makes him blush more because where the hell did all his eloquence suddenly go?]
During a time when I was still in school, actually.
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He can smell Peter's embarrassment. Hopefully getting him talking fixes that. ]
Tell me about it.
[ ...unless the story is embarrassing. ]
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he brushes them aside with a shrug, giving a somewhat disappointed sigh.] When the mutation kicked in, though. [his eyes roll as he gestures offhandedly toward his head.] It made the lessons too slow. I struggled a lot, but Charles can handle the way I learn. I'm almost all caught up.
Oh! One good thing about high school, though? Broke eight world records in track and field. [a wistful grin.] Best year ever.
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And yet here he is, thinking of the good things anyway. Peter's smile has always been bright, but it seems brighter in comparison to the frown that colours Logan's own features; it reminds him of the war, of when Logan was angry and miserable and mourning, and Peter Maximoff was there to remind him of what measly, small things could count as "good" for soldiers like them. That they were still alive. That at least they had each other.
(Until Logan didn't have him any more, but at least he has him now.) ]
Guinness book actually let you put your times in? [ Logan doubts it, but he knows he might as well ask. They reach the truck and he sets the engine down, and then makes sure everything is secure before closing the back portion. ] You were in high school in... what, the 70's, right? [ Dusting his hands off, he makes his way to the driver's side. ] Pretty sure there weren't any mutant laws then.
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having a mutation that didn't run him out was a plus there. he's heard horror stories and is absolutely grateful that ms maximoff continued putting up with him, despite his klepto tendencies.]
For a while. [he gives a rueful sigh this time.]
Obviously, something was weirder about the kid with silver hair than they thought, so there's no way they'd keep them in. [peter zips around to the opposite side, pulling the door open and climbing up into the seat.] Yeah, that's right. Back when it was easier because nobody knew.
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Hope you kept the book with your name in it, though.
[ Turning the engine on, Logan's shift into first gear is easy, and smooth when it slips into second and he starts to drive away. ] I'd love to see that.
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You know I did. [his grin is the absolute definition of smug.
as they being leaving the junkyard, that little thing starts happening again. the hairs on the back of his neck stick up, like an invisible intuition he's never been able to describe and that's when he sees it--] Logan, look out—! [but he knows they won't be able to brake fast enough.
everything stops, the vehicle door flies open and quicksilver dives out, scooping a small puppy up underneath his arm. he can feel the tire on his fingertips, smell the hot rubber just as he tumbles them out of the way and time becomes normal again.]
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He picks Peter up a few steps away from the centre of the road, but it isn't just him. Around the smell of the gasoline and the inevitable burn that came with braking so suddenly, he picks up something... canine, and for once it isn't himself.
Frowning, he sticks his head out the window, staring at the boy and the puppy in his arms. ]
What the hell.
[ Because where the hell did the animal even come from? ]
Did I almost hit that?
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but of course they are because he's way too quick to be outdone by a vehicle.
he heaves a breath and finally stands, arms still encircling himself as he meets logan's gaze. then, with slight tentativeness, quicksilver opens his coat and out squirms the adorable wrinkly pup, yipping excitedly despite being secured in his hands.]
Yeah, but it's cool— I got him!
[now that he's sure they're all okay, he clambers back into the truck, letting their new addition tumble around on the seat.] God, Logan ... [he focuses solely on the other man's face.] It's so goddamn cute.
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[ Because the pup is making itself comfortable on Peter's chair, making vague noises and sniffing everywhere, and Logan's gaze is shifting from said rapscallion puppy to Peter where he stands by his side. ]
You're... oh, no.
No, we're not taking this thing home.
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[in case the other man had any doubts,] Come on, Logan! We almost ran him over. [a pause, long enough for him to reach out and scoop the pup up into his arms.] The least we could do is take him home, bathe him and give him some food.
[yes, 'him' is what peter's using, despite not knowing if it's actually a male or female.]
We gotta. [another brief moment of hesitation before an idea pops into his head and he makes his features downturn.] Kurt'd tell us it's our christian duty ... and I'm not gonna be the one to explain that a defenseless little puppy got left in the middle of the road.
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Still, the puppy's snuggling up into Peter with a kindness that isn't necessarily nothing. ]
A bath and some food. [ His tone is firm, but he keeps his gaze off Peter and his puppy pal in fear of his resolve crumbling. God damn it. ] And then we're finding him some real owners.
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[peter shifts slightly in his seat, allows the pup to settle in his lap where it starts dozing without hesitation. if he were the type— aw, who's he kidding? he's totally the type to make an incoherent high-pitched noise, trying to keep from the disturbing his little snuggle buddy.
logan's reluctant acceptance of getting the little guy food and bathing him only furthers his blatant excitement.] Yeah, yeah. A bath and food then we'll go from there.
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It's not too far from here to the mansion, and Logan drives the truck back into the garage instead of dropping Peter and the dog off at the front doors. And, speaking of that god damn little critter, he decides to leave taking the motorcycle in the back out for later.
Bath and food first.
As they enter the kitchen from the door in the garage, Logan crinkles his nose. ] You know how to bathe that thing?
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he follows close behind logan, peers around the taller man, making sure no one else is going to see their newly gained little bundle. once he deems it safe enough, peter darts around him and makes a beeline toward the fridge.]
Sure do! Do we have any eggs? [asked as he's scanning the refrigerator trays, of course.] They'd be soft enough for him to eat and they're safe for dogs.
Unless you can pull puppy food from thin air?