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Logan peaked his head into Kurt's room through the half-open door. He spied the blue mutant sitting on a yoga mat in the center of the room, deep in seated forward fold. With arms and head stretched straight out over his legs, he was grasping the bottoms of his feet with his hands.
"Are you ever not stretching?"
Kurt did not even have to look up to know that it was Logan. Even outside of the voice, no one else would come in without knocking.
"It is, -ah-, part of my meditative practice Herr Logan. It keeps both mind and body centered. If there is not balance -ah- in each, the other will falter."
"So when do you ascend to pretzel nirvana?"
Kurt released the pose and came up to a sitting position, smiling at Logan. "Was just seconds away from it before you came by. What can I do for you mein freund?"
Logan looked around the room, avoiding Kurt's gaze. "So, if I, uh, hypothetically speaking of course, hid a dead flounder in the trunk of Scott's car and wanted to go spend a few nights camping in the woods so I'm not around when he discovered it, would you have any interest in coming along?"
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Is the camping hypothetical or just the fish?"
"The camping is real. Realness of the fish depends on how quickly Cyke figures out where the smell is coming from."
"Eww."
Logan chuckled. "Exactly."
Kurt sighed, "I don't know Logan. I've got a lot of responsibilities here."
Logan rolled his eyes, "Really. Tell me about your responsibilities."
"I do have a class to teach."
"It's a theater class Kurt, how hard can it be? Just make the little brats memorize a play or watch a movie or something."
"I take my students' development seriously Logan. The theater can be an important place to build ze student's confidence and improvisational skills. Both of which are critical not just on the stage, but also in the battlefield."
"Aww, come on elf, just phone in sick. It'll be great. The outdoors. A roaring fire. Hot-dogs. Beer. Me. What else could you possibly want out of life? I mean, what's more centered than being one with nature."
Kurt looked away from Logan, seeming torn, "Ah, but my students..."
Logan could tell that he was close to cracking Kurt. "Look, I'll even dig through the pantry and get the fixins for smores."
A pause.
"Vell, I suppose that /one/ screening couldn't hurt. Perhaps an Errol Flynn!"
"That's the spirit! Now get your shit together, we, uh, we should probably hit the road pretty quick."
-----
Kurt sat slumped against the window of the Jeep. This had been a mistake.
~I wanna live... I wanna give...~
Why had he let Logan choose the music.
~I've been a miner for a heart of gold...~
Three hours.
~It's these expressions...~
Three hours of Neil Young.
"Logan, can... can we..."
~I never give~
"Can we please..."
~That keep me search for a heart of gold..~
"Turn this off."
Logan bristled, "We don't interrupt Neil in this car."
Kurt reached down and flicked the stereo off.
Logan took his eyes off the road, shooting Kurt a look that would send enemies fleeing in terror had this been a fight. Without breaking eye contact, Logan started slowly turning the steering-wheel. The Jeep began drifting towards the ravine.
"Turn it back on elf," Logan said calmly.
Kurt hesitated. He then heard the cars' tires go over the rumble strips.
"I'll make it through a crash Kurt, don't know about you. Turn. Neil. Back. On."
Kurt threw up his hands, exclaiming "Okay! Okay!" He flicked the stereo back on.
~I'm getting old... keep me searching for a heart of gold...~
Logan turned his head back to the road, rotated the steering wheel, and turned the car back into the road with a small skid of the tires. "See, was that so hard?"
"This thing between you and Neil seems unhealthy."
"Why do you hate Canada Kurt?"
"I don't hate Canada!"
"If you hate Neil you hate Canada, Kurt. Don't tell me you hate Canada."
"Canada is a perfectly vunderful place. I like maple syrup, I like Tim Horton's, I like . . . ." His mind searched. "Snow."
"I wasn't aware snow was Canadian."
"I like Canadian snow. Way better than German stuff. Also, the mutant deer!"
"You mean the moose?"
"Yes, all perfectly lovely. But, you know, after three hours of Neil Young, the mind begins to wonder if there ever has been anything other kind of music that humans have ever invented."
"Well sure there is Kurt, but in all fairness, the rest of it is shit. Trust me on this, I've been around for a while."
"Yes, Bach, Beethoven, and Handel all wilt when compared to ze magnus opus that is 'Neil Young & Crazy Horse.'"
"Glad you agree."
Kurt threw his head back and laughed. "You are amazing."
Logan snorted. "Thanks elf." He paused before adding, "I think I've got some Rush tapes in the glovebox if you want to dig around."
-----
The deer lapped at the still water in the small, sylvan glen. Water-lillies balanced delicately atop. Dragon-flies droned along the surface.
A far off rumbling caught the doe's attention. 'Attacker?!?,' shot through its mind. In the distance, she could see a yellow object. It was coming closer along the long black slippery strip of rock that divided her surroundings.
Voices.
She hunched down, watching carefully. Muscles on the ready to fire. Ready to run.
The noise. The noise was awful. Three loud, wrong voices.
Shooting by with windows down, Kurt and Logan sang at the top of their lungs, ~WHAT YOU SAY ABOUT HIS COMPANY, IS WHAT YOU SAY ABOUT SOCIETY~
She took off into the woods, hurling herself as fast as she could from the screaming yellow monster.
-----
It felt good to stretch his legs. Four and a half hours in the car was quite enough for Kurt, thank you. He kicked a leg back behind him and grabbed it with a hand, extending his quads. Still bending, he looked around, "This is gorgeous Logan."
"Ayup," Logan affirmed as he pulled himself out of the car.
Surveying the camp site, Kurt couldn't help but smile. Miles away from the closest human. Gorgeous view of a lake, which the sun was already setting over. Like something from a painting.
Kurt plodded over to the back to the car and began unpacking. He unloaded his own sleeping bag, his backpack with change of clothes, two collapsable chairs, and the tent. Underneath the tent, Kurt spotted red, white, and blue box after red, white, and blue box.
"Logan."
"Mmmhrmm?" Logan asked, his mouth already filled with a cigar.
"There is a lot of beer here."
"Mmhrmm."
"And not a lot of... other things."
Logan drew on his cigar and blew out a solid blume of smoke. "Ayup."
Kurt continued, "For example, a sleeping bag. Or a change of clothes."
"Too much space."
"Too much space?"
"Yeah, you know."
"No. No I don't. Are you planning on running around naked?"
Logan shrugged.
'Lord give me strength,' Kurt thought to himself. "You want to setup the tent or should I?"
Logan smirked, "I dunno Kurt, you wanna pitch a tent?"
Kurt grimaced. "Why don't you go find some firewood."
-----
The fire crackled loudly, sending small embers shooting through the air.
Kurt sipped slowly at his beer and grimaced. "Ugh. I do not know how you can drink this warm."
Logan, sunk deeply into the collapsible chair, shrugged. "I thought you Krauts were supposed to love that."
"Sure with German beer, not this Canuck nonsense."
"There you go with the Canada hatin' again elf. I'm starting to think you've got a problem."
"Sure. My problem is warm Molson Ice."
Logan dismissed Kurt's comment with a handwave and a "Psssh." He knocked back his own beer and then tossed the fallen soldier into the pile with twenty or so of its buddies. "Just have another hot dog."
"Ugh, no. I had three already."
"Atta boy," Logan offered, reaching into the box of beer and pulling a fresh can from the box.
The -pppsht- of the can opening silenced the chirping crickets only momentarily. Within seconds, the constant buzz was filling their ears again.
"Logan, why do you keep insisting on provoking Scott? You know that he's going to figure out exactly who left that fish there."
Logan shrugged. "I don't know." He paused and then added, "Since both of us are gone, he might think it's you."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Don't drag me into this. You know he won't. Seriously though, why do you insist on torturing him?"
"Cause it's the simple things in life that make it worth living Kurt. Some people have gardens with prize winning roses. Some people have wood-working. Me? ... Sometimes I just gotta leave a rotting fish in another man's car." Logan took a long swig from his beer before adding, "Besides, Summers is a prick."
"I'm not saying you are wrong, but don't you think that maybe you might overlook that given that he's, you know, our fearless leader?"
"Well, sure, when we're on a mission. But I just gotta remind him that when we're not in the middle of some mess, he's not the boss of universe."
Kurt nodded. "Can't argue that logic."
After draining the rest of the can down his gullet, Logan stood up and wobbled. "Oof. Gotta take a leak."
Kurt watched as Logan swerved off into the woods. He looked over at the pile of empties next to Logan's fold-out chair. 'Mein Gott, did he just drink twenty-four beers in two hours?'
Logan stumbled back to the camp site, went to the Jeep, and pulled another box of beer and a small grocery bag. He walked over to Kurt and dropped the bag at his feet. Inside: graham crackers, chocolate, and giant puffy marshmallows. Logan looked down at Kurt, "We gonna do this or what?"
-----
Unlike the beer, Kurt found he could make it through more than one smore. Soon after, he found his appreciation of the situation beginning to change. The sounds of the fire crackling, the crickets chirping, the smell and warmth of the fire, and the gentle swaying of the leaves in the evening breeze left him feeling content. 'Stars... Mein gott, how long had it been since I've just looked up and stared at the stars.'
While he and Logan didn't necessarily have all that much to talk about, he found they didn't need to fill the silences with empty chatter. Both had found being in nature enough. The silence was occasionally pierced by the clank of beer-can after beer-can being piled up next to Logan, but even in that Kurt had found a kind of charm.
The moon was high in the black sky when Kurt finally got up to go relieve himself. Taking a few steps away from the fire, he realized how cold it had gotten. Returning a few moments later, he found Logan with his head lolled back, letting out an ungodly snore.
"Logan."
No movement.
"Loooooooogaaaaaan," Kurt called again.
A terrific snore. He was definitely out.
Kurt sighed. Logan would probably be okay out here over night, but he did not like the prospect of leaving his friend in the cold. Given Logan's weight (thanks in part to his adamantium skeleton), carrying him into the tent seemed equally unappealing.
After a few moments of contemplation, Kurt went over and snaked an arm around Logan's back. He felt his electricity crackle throughout his body, an energy beginning to fill his body. He concentrated on the target.
*-BAMF-*
With a rush of brimstone, both mutants materialized a few inches above ground, inside of the tent. Gravity quickly took hold, returning them to the not so gentle embrace of planet earth. They both smacked into the ground with a -thud-.
Kurt winced. 'That could have been a little more accurate.'
Logan let out another loud snore.
-----
Kurt awoke with a start. Total darkness. It was still night. The sound of heavy footfalls outside of the tent came from outside of the tent. The rustle of cans. He could feel the fuzz on the back of his neck standing on edge.
His eyes adjusted quickly and he scanned around the tent. Logan had not moved an inch, meaning whatever was outside was joining their party.
‘Shit.’
Kurt looked around the small enclosure, not sure what to do. Finally, in a hushed voice, he said, "Logan, wake up."
No response.
Urgency dripped from Kurt's voice. "/Logan./"
Nothing. The man was dead to the world.
More stomping came from outside. Sniffs from a powerful and large set of lungs. Kurt thought back. They hadn't tied up their food. This was likely a bear and not an enemy. Good news: it was probably just hungry. Bad news: it was not likely to be reasoned with. Kurt scanned his mind, trying to recall if he had ever received training on how to fight a bear. Surely this had come up at some point.
More crashing came from outside.
After playing a few scenarios out in his head, Kurt decided if push came to shove, he would teleport them both to the car. The dynamics of teleporting two people inside the geometry of car would be tough. Perhaps the top of the car instead. That would at least give them some kind of high-ground. But if they just stayed quiet, perhaps the bear would not even notice them.
Kurt held his breath.
It was at this exact moment that Logan let out a moan, "Mmmmmmm Jean."
'Verdammit,' Kurt thought.
The noise outside stopped. He was sure they had been noticed.
Kurt reached over and placed a hand over Logan's mouth. Both trying to silence the man and priming himself for teleportation. Logan let out another prurient growl muffled into Kurt's palm.
Rather than coming closer though, the footfalls began moving away. Away... away. Then silence.
Kurt exhaled.
Logan let out another moan, and Kurt reached over and half-punched him in the shoulder.
-----
Morning light was filling the tent. Kurt groaned. His whole body felt stiff from sleeping on the ground. 'At least I'm still alive,' he thought as he unzipped his sleeping bag. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked around the tent.
No Logan.
A gentle breeze blew in from the opening flap. It was undone. 'Is that...?' Kurt sniffed the air again. ‘Smoke. Smoke and... hot dogs. Perhaps the bear had not gotten everything after all.'
He shimmied his way out of the sleeping bag, body complaining as he made his way out. Sticking his head out of the tent's opening, Kurt blinked into the sun.
He was confused by what he saw at first. The site was trashed. Beer cans everywhere. Garbage everywhere. But a fire was roaring in the fire pit. And Logan was sitting there... covered in blood with a stick in each hand.
Kurt shot out of the tent, running quickly towards his teammate. "Logan! Logan! Are you alright?"
Logan looked up from the fire. "Jesus elf, what's gotten into you?"
Kurt starred in disbelief. "You are covered in blood."
Logan looked down at himself, "Oh yeah." He paused, then looked back up at his teammate, "Don't worry. Not mine."
Kurt cocked his head incredulously. "Would you mind telling me whose it is then?!?"
Logan pulled a stick with a large, ragged chunk of meat from the fire. "Breakfast's."
"Where did that come from?"
A wry grin crept across Logan's face. In a cartoonish, low voice, he said, "Only you can prevent forest fires!"
"What?"
"Smokey?"
"Who is Smokey?"
"Oh my god Kurt. I cannot believe you don't know who Smokey is. How did you ever learn to extinguish camp fires when you were a little blueberry?"
"I am... not following."
Logan sighed. "He's the helpful forest fire prevention bear."
Logan watched as the blank, unknowing expression on Kurt's face morphed into something resembling horror mixed with disbelief. His teammate asked, "Where... where did you get this bear meat?"
"Where do you think? From the woods!" Logan shook his head. ‘God, the elf can be dense,’ he thought. Without even removing the cooking stick, Logan took a large bite out of the steak. Chewing, mouth apage, he added. "Mmphucker -mph- ate my hotblovs."
"What?"
Logan swallowed. "Fucker ate my hotdogs." He extended the stick to Kurt. "Want some?"
-----
Kurt opened the door to his room. Just as he had left it yesterday. He sighed and threw his backpack to the floor. It landed with a -whumpf- and stirred up the air. Everything he had brought with him smelled like campfire and meat. ‘At least I won’t be washing blood out of everything.’
He walked over to his bed, and without taking his clothes off, collapsed into it in a heap.
After Logan's offer of "breakfast," Kurt had decided that he had had enough of the great outdoors with Campmaster Wolverine. He hadn't brought his own vehicle, so he had to talk Logan into coming back. He figured that this would have been an easy sell given the fact that Logan was caked in bear blood without a change of clothes, without an actual sleeping bag, and without anything but bear to eat.
But no, Logan said he was ready to stay out there for a few more days, after all, they were obviously two experienced outdoorsmen. Kurt protested, and finally said that he wasn't feeling all that well. After some consternation, Logan let out a long sigh and agreed to take Kurt back that afternoon.
The drive back had been excruciatingly quiet.
But now, Kurt was home. A home with real food. And his own bed. He buried his face into his pillow.
"You feeling any better elf?"
Kurt jostled, startled. He turned his head and saw Logan’s head peeking around the bedroom door.
"Mein gott, do you ever knock?"
Logan got a bit of a bug-eyed expression. "Jeez, sorry, was just coming to check on you."
Kurt sighed; he was guilt-tripped so easily. "Yes… I'm feeling a bit better, thanks. I think... it must have been a bit too much nature for me."
"Yeah, I guess all that fresh air can be kind of overwhelming if you're not used to it."
A long silence filled the room.
"Was there something else I can help you with?" Kurt asked.
Logan coughed. "Uh..." He paused. "Any chance I could crash in here with you tonight?"
"Vas? Why?"
"Scotty-boy must have figured out who pulled the ol' fish in the car trunk prank pretty quick cause, uh… it was sitting in my bed when I came into my room."
"Ugh."
"You're telling me. Smells like harbor in there."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Logan, you are the worst."
Logan grinned and held up a large box. Kurt recognized the red, white, and blue labeling right away.
"Brought us a little treat. It'll be just like camping."
---END---