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Logan has been putting out some feelers among the intelligence set since his return to the States. Spending extensive time with the X-men and their associates has mostly reminded him that he doesn't fit in particularly well with them and isn't entirely aligned with their goals - or, more precisely, he doesn't always think they live up well to their own and he's tired of feeling crabby about it.
He can try'n change 'em, harangue and push and make a big mess, but, honestly, he ain't got the energy. So, he's been kind of sticking a flag up to see if any of the old shadow ops got use for a hand, something to take his mind off o' politics and identity and people in funny outfits.
In the meantime, there's always a bar and he's deep in this one, bellied up to it and with a line of shots snaking around the corner of the oak, emptied in their turn and chased with the requisite brewski.
*
It started with Daisy Skye Cory Sutter-Johnson going through old files that were submitted to the Director for review. An old report of a subway brawl had gotten her attention. The cruedly drawn picture was hilarious, but yet once she visited the Carter-Sousa residence, the sight of the man in the picture that she had seen.. yeah. There was no coincidence.
So she spent at least an hour talking it over with Lola, even though the car didn't talk back, she begins to set out feelers of her own. A little poke here, a little poke there. Fury had taught the girl to move and moving, it was her job. And she did it really, really well. Don't let the junior status fool you!
The end of the road brought her to the Duck. She remembered her time there. Drunk off her ass, playing darts, a memory that makes her shutter now even with the recent change. So imagine her surprise once she sees the back of the head of the man whom she was looking for, and the man whom she sidled next to upon the bar with a hop-kip up upon the stool with legs soon crossed at the ankle and hat torn off to set upon the counter top, near the brewski that he nursed.. as well as a million shots. "What.. in the living hell? Are you drinking all that shit to get warm or are you just looking for a good time gal?"
*
Logan looks half over his shoulder at the girl. Young, cocky, full of piss and vinegar. Armed, from the smell of the gun oil. Definitely not a typical barfly. That's okay. He found the regular types pretty dull. Maybe she'd try to kill him. Wouldn't be a bad way to pass the evening.
"Got it in one, darlin'. Just puttin' a little patina o' wonder on the bad ol' world, let's me pretend it ain't quite as nasty as I am. What brings you here, kiddo?"
*
Alright! She didn't expect that sort of accent to come from the man, but she kind of figured. He seemed like the rough and rugged type, even in the picture that she has in her pocket, he smoked a cigar which made him look like he was bad ass. And if the reports on this man were true, he really was a force to be reckoned with. More importantly, he knew Peggy. She wasn't all up for the subterfudge, but in public, it looks like there'd be no choice.
"Well, I'm looking for a fun time myself.." No, she wasn't going to kill him, possibly subject him to a fate worse than death..
"Though, if you don't mind buying me a drink first. I like to feel a little bit warm in the belly before I go tussling with your sorts in the back alley." She issues a wink, feeling mighty awkward, but hell. Why not play it up. "If you catch my drift. Looking to make a mistake and you're lookin' ripe."
*
Logan snorts, "Darlin', I may have a little bit of a drunk on, but I ain't so drunk as t'think I'm lookin' good to a little morsel like you, especially when you ain't had a lick o' the bottom o' a bottle," he says.
"But that's awright, we can take our time gettin' to what you really want. IN the meantime, order yerself a glass 'r two an' feel free to play the part to the hilt, if you feel like sittin' on my lap," he grins.
*
"Who's to say I didn't have any before I stopped in here?" Skye plays up. One hand lifted for the tender, two fingers pointing towards the beer and the shots. This was going to be a little bit of hell going down, but she wasn't a lightweight, besides. She had a 'mission' in mind. "Don't think that little girls like me don't find you handsome. You're not bad to look at, plus the lights go down and we all look the same anyways. Feeling it too."
As the bartender, who aptly shakes his head at the conversation, pours the drinks, Skye does him one better. Logan could probably hear the regret-beat her heart was making as she easily parks it right upon his thigh. Game. Set. Match. His turn. "So, ol' Poppa. What's your name?"
*
Logan takes a measured sip of his beer. From her position on his leg, of course, she could hurt him a number of ways. Shiv to the side of the neck, right in the carotid. Knive between the ribs, carve his heart a new ventricle. Gutshots, taking that gun she had snaked around the small of her back and pumping lead down into his intestines - wouldn't feel good, no, not a damn bit, although, if she knew who he was, she'd also know that the only thing that would accomplish is to piss him off.
He slips an arm around the small of her back, keeping her balanced as he looks up with wary grey eyes, "Logan, though I'm bettin' you know as much," he says. "An' I can tell yer sober cause I don't smell no booze on ya, just good fresh skin, gun oil an' a hint o' sweat an' regret," he says. "You work for anyone in particular, or you the type that goes where the money takes ya?"
*
Well, that was smart. Her being on his leg at his suggestion gives him a win. She was close enough to actually create an air of intimacy while the others watched, and while most possibly wouldn't care to listen to their conversation. Good play, Logan. Not to mention, he had a hand on her gun. He could probably shoot her right in the ass. So he had her dead to rights, on top of that? He smelled it? What.. the fuck..
One arm slips around his shoulder as she leans in, but leans away again to grab a shot, tossing it back like an old pro, the little glass set onto as she settles in. Her free hand goes to his chest, her words quiet and low as she looks him in the eye. "I didn't know that, to be honest. I'm Daisy." She introduces herself. "I don't go where the money takes me, but I work for SHIELD." Full disclosure, she wasn't lying.
"I've actually been looking for you for a few hours. I'm lucky. I think I may play the numbers."
*
Logan smirks, "Daisy? Really? I'll be damned, don't think I've ever met a girl named Daisy before, thought they only existed in boozy novels and children's stories," he says. "SHIELD, eh?" he continues, keeping his voice pitched low as hers, the general sussurus of the bar providing cover. "That's Peggy Carter's outfit, right, that they cobbled together outta OSS and all that post-war jazz Fury and Stark and the rest were messin' about with," he says. "So, why were you lookin' fer me, then? I admit, I was considerin' gettin' back in the shadow game, but I ain't thoughta bout it much longer'n that line o' shots would indicate."
*
She actually smacks his chest lightly. "My dead parents gave me that name." She was kidding. But that was the official name on her birth certificate, so she had to use it due to being at SHIELD. Though, she does nod faintly, his words were confirmed. He knew all of the old players including her old Mentor. So that was a plus. She leans in again, her lips pursing slightly as releases them to murmur against the lobe of his ear. "Mind giving it an even deeper thought then?" And then? To add to the ploy since a man in the corner was watching, she bites his earlobe gently, and visibly shifts in Logan's lap.
"There's some trouble that cropped up with us. Not the good kind." She presses a kiss to that clean area between his sideburn and ear, then draws away to press her cheek against his. "And I've read reports about you. I think we need someone like you now more than ever."
*
Logan smirks, "The group as a whole or just you need me?" he says, but takes another sip of his fresh beer. "Consider the thinkin' bein' done. Why don't you fill me in on the down and dirty details in the meantime, though? Don't worry, I'll pinky swear myself t'secrecy if ya like. Can't be pledgin' allegiance t'the flag, though, my Canadian heritage ain't gonna stand fer that. But her Majesty an' Uncle Sam always been able to work out deals fer my services in the past, ain't no reason to think they can't manage it again, especially if times are dark as ya say."
*
Skye gives that a little bit of a thought. Her hand reaching behind her to tug one of his fingers up just a little bit higher for visibilities sake. And well, she needed the extra help to stay upright. She wasn't exactly a ballerina.
"Both." She states, leaning away a touch to grab another shot that was poured for her, downed, then the glass replaced as she retains that little bit of closeness. "And put a little effort in this? It seems like I'm the only one giving and you're doing all the taking.."
But, there was a thought of how much to actually tell Logan. And yet, the fact that he knew Peggy possibly.. helped the matters. But with a grip of her own bottled beer, she hangs it close, leaning in to whisper into his ears again. "Margaret Carter, or as you know, Peggy is missing. And she's seven months pregnant. This is critical."
*
Logan puts his hand carefully on the small of her back, supportive enough to keep her in place. There are a few jealous looks down the bar, but none of them last too long - Logan was regular enough that his rep carried and the bartender knew to cool down anybody who thought about getting hot with the compact mutant.
HisrThe news about Peggy jolts him, however, "Missin'? Missin' how? SHe shouldn't be in action that knocked up…" he says, although it hardly shocks him that she might put herself out there at such a juncture. Girl never did know when to sit back and, while he may be more progressive than some, Logan thought she put herself way to far out there for a dame sometimes. Just for her own good, anyways, but she always got the job done. He just hated seein' lipstick get smeared with blood.
"Findin' people is somethin' I always been good at," he manages quietly.
*
Skye shifts carefully, one leg crossing over the other, turning her body towards him now so that her arms could join along the back. Yes, they were getting too intimate, too intimate for it to be comfortable in a public place. Which was the point. "You were watching the news right?" She asks quietly. "The talk of aliens, the formation of Act-F.." She draws in a little breath, leaning a bit to look aside at another patron who quickly glances away.
"So, to say that this shit is ballwick bananas, because it is, is something. It's bigger than that. We think aliens took her.." And with that, she leans in to smoosh a kiss against Logan's lips. Cause that part, about the aliens, usually would have people swearing loud.
*
Logan returns the kiss and wraps his arms around her, giving a little bit of a growl and biting at her lip hard. He reaches into his pocket and draws out his cash, slamming enough on the table to cover both their tabs and carrying her out towards the alley door. He kicks it open, supporting her weight easily in one arm, getting a few whoops from the biker types as he gets her out into the sharp bite of the cold air outside.
He slams her lightly against the wall of the bar on the outside, not breaking contact, "I dunno shit about aliens 'cept what I read in the papers," he says. "But if they took her, then she gotta get got, simple as that, if we gotta steal some flyin' saucer an' go flyin' to Mars t'get her."
*
Skye is going to catch hell for this. She probably wouldn't tell Alexander but they did promise something of a non-disclosure agreement type dealio where secrets weren't off the table. But this was thrilling! He could probably slice her in two, and yet, he played it like a champ and carried her out of there without.. her hat. Goddamn it, her hat!
The chill of the air proved to be a huge contrast, she nearly sucks in a breath, her eyes rolling ever so faintly as he pushes her against the wall. Her gaze darts left and right to look, using her hips to push him outward just a touch as one foot plants upon the ground and the other remains curled against his hip. "I wasn't done.." She says quietly. "..whoever took her put an imposter in place. We didn't even know she was missing until that alien, who looked -just- like her, was dead. Then it transformed into this.. thing." She shudders slightly, her fingers curling against his own jacket, as if she were to tug. Keep the guise up in case someone comes looking. "There's no way to tell who's who, know what I mean?"
*
Logan leans in and bites on the side of her neck. Yeah, they didn't have an audience anymore, but she tasted good and she started it in the first place, so he wasn't going to stop taking advantage until she demanded otherwise. She could fire a gun into the air if she wanted to get his attention.
"You sure about that? I can usually smell a shapeshifter - their insides stay the same. I imagine an alien one still smells like an alien even if they make their outside into British spy dame. Plus, their guts an' everything might make weird noises an' shit I could hear. Just sayin', there's probably ways an' I can probably do most of 'em," he says. "Plus, you probably got Stark or Stark's dopey kid workin' for ya, I'm sure they could work out some X-ray specs, they sell 'em on the back o' Crackerjack boxes, don't they?"
*
Skye doesn't exactly stop him, she was too focused on getting him into SHIELD. Well, he already agreed but he needed to know more going in. And quiet as kept? It felt nice!
"So you can smell the difference between human and.. well, others?" She asks quietly, moreso for her own sake. There was a hint of paranoia there in the question, one that she doesn't really harp on too much, but put aside. "And you can hear.. wow.." Flabbergasted. She forgot all about the necking.
"I don't know if Stark is in with us. I don't know what happened to his father, but they're considering all hands on deck. Director Carter.." She clears her throat, gently prying him away from her neck. "..never really said anything about them. And Fury is in the wind. Agent Coulson is Acting Director for the time being." She purses her lips, dipping her head to try to catch his attention. "You'll be my asset.. is that fine? Or.. do you want an official standing with SHIELD. I don't know if I could make that happen, I'm just a Junior Agent.. but.. I can probably make a deal with him to see it come to light." As in, cleaning the fucking latrines. Goddamn it!
*
Logan considers for a moment and finally sets her down, letting her get her bearings and her feet about her. He reaches into his jacket and draws out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and offering her one if she wants. "Not everything different. I can't smell if someone's a mutant, necessarily, or if they got powers. But aliens, seems like that might be a different thing altogether. I dunno, though, I'm just speculatin', I ain't met no aliens yet, shapeshifters or not," he says.
"All due, I'd rather have my own status, rather'n just be taggin' along at yer coattails. Not just fer myself - you don't wanna be responsible fer me. I ain't good at doin' what I'm told an' there's no reason fer you payin' the price cause I won't kiss this Coulson's ass."
*
Skye gives a slight shake of her head as he offers her a cigarette. That was one habit she actually, really couldn't afford to keep up. SHIELD doesn't pay all that much. "Well, yeah.. obviously." There was a slight pause as she keeps herself leaned against the wall, cooling down her own whiles as she looks to the left and right again, her head nodding as he wishes for his own status which means.. Latrines. Goddamn this Logan person!
"So.." She says, a goofy smile appearing upon her lips, her hands tucked behind herself as she idly sways.
"..we got one in the lab.." She grins even wider..
"..wanna come sniff it?"
*
Logan can't help but bark a laugh, drawing on his smoke for a moment, the flare of the cherry lighting his eyes in an almost fiendish way, "Lead on, then, little darlin'. I hope you got the clearance t'be showin' me what yer gonna ashow me. Not that it makes much difference t'me, but I'd hate t'see you get busted down t'buck private just to do me a favor," he says.
*