((OOC: LOL, we got jacked by the Summers' Brother Variety Hour! Some macho
mustelid Logan is, letting his territory get invaded by rogue males! New thread for convenience's sake, reposting some of the last to get us [re: me] back
Meanwhile, up at the bar...
"I wonder who he was, the man behind it all," said Betsy, a distant frown crossing her face as she remembered the eerie calm of the man in the panic room. "He seemed so damned ordinary…"
Logan frowned. Was she picking his mind or were his thoughts that easy to read by his facial expressions?
"He seemed to know who you were, didn't he?"
"Apparently," Logan said as he pulled the dog tags he wore from under his T-shirt and rubbed them with the tips of his thumb and forefinger. He closed his eyes and was immediately hit with the horrific memory of that smug son of a bitch waving at him as the chopper pulled away. All those questions he had, questions that required answers and the one man who could apparently shed some light on who he was just disappeared in a helicopter through a cloud of smoke.
The soft tinkling of the metal around his neck was what drew her gaze, but the reverent gesture of his fingertips on the little embossed numbers was the thing that held her rapt. Touching them so, he reminded her of Kurt and his rosaries.
Logan could see himself lying there in the snow looking upward and there wasn't a god damned thing he could do to stop the escape. He had tried and he had failed, end of story. He slowly opened his eyes and then angrily shoved the tags back under his T-shirt and then snorted a laugh.
Something inside Betsy's chest tightened.
"Guess we'll never know, huh?"
"Not necessarily," she said slowly. "After all… if he knows you, it only stands to reason that you must've know him once as well..."
An idea danced coyly around the inside of Betsy's head, half-formed but familiar. An offer hanging heavy in the air, waiting for its
chance. But she recognized the traitor thing, and pushed it aside the same she always did. Her curiosity about Logan's past was nothing new, and this
idea... was an intrigue and a daydream, nothing more. She tipped back her bottle and hoped it might wash away her foolish thoughts.
"I thought you spoke to the Professor after the debriefing? Didn't he offer any help?"