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Atlas Gym, Sunday

When Logan woke up this morning his pants weren't jeans, his flannel shirt was a poofy blouse-type thing, and his boots and belt looked like they belonged on his costume. But it all still fit, so that wasn't going to bother him.

When he got to the gym, he decided to skip the whole office thing and go straight to the sparring room to work on his swordwork. You know, just in case.

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"At least my clone isn't around for fanboys to ogle!" Deadpool said, kinda muffled by the elbow to the face. He decided to try and stab Logan in the kidney for that one.

Logan mostly dodged (his shirt got torn and a little bloody, boo hoo) and slashed at Deadpool's neck.

"I've warned you. Don't talk about X-23."

Grabbing his throat for a moment and looking very upset as it healed back together, Deadpool moved with more speed than the-- erm-- 'friendly' spar warranted to stab Logan in the lung.

He so deserved it.

(Damn, attention hogging furball!)

If Deadpool could do it earlier, Logan could too. He charged forward, letting the sword run him through as he brought his blade back to Deadpool's throat. "I could pop it off again. Give up?"

Well, that's what he tried to say. There were probably some gurgling noises in there towards the end.

Swallowing a few times to see if he could talk again, Deadpool gave him a look. "Are you hitting on me?"

"...." Logan said. He wanted to say that Deadpool wasn't his type, but the sword and blood in his lung was making that difficult. So he just shook his head and made an extra-mean face.

"Well." Deadpool frowned at the position. "Good. Because no means no and I just am not into bears."

He cleared his throat.

Nope, didn't help with the sword there.

"You'll find a nice man someday. Hey, maybe Scott will leave Emma for you!"

Logan lowered the sword and settled for a headbutt.

"HEY!" Yanking his sword out without any regard for the splatter, Deadpool slash at him blindly. "I'm just trying to help with your problems with your Summers boytoy!"

Logan blocked and slash and spun around to slash at Deadpool's back. "You have enough problems with yours," he said. The sword was in him too long. He was going to be coughing up blood for a couple days.

Someone was just getting slow.

Deadpool flinched and he grinned brightly before going to block and pulling another knife to become friends with Logan's other kidney. "Aw, sweetheart, no need to get so angry at me for your own problems!"

"Oh, we're playing like that," Logan said.

He popped the claws on the unarmed hand and gave a strong slash to Deadpool's arm.

"What? You actually expected this to go in a non-crazy fight way?" Deadpool asked, pulling back and holding the useless arm in place to heal.

"Hi, have we met, oh, ever?!"

"It went pretty sane longer than I thought it would," Logan said, slashing at Deadpool's good arm with his claws and his leg with the sword.

Fine. He could play this.

"I expected it to get bad sooner too," Deadpool admitted, rolling back to avoid the claws. But not the sword. Not fast enough for that one. "But we can always hope!"

A flip of his wrist and he had a small, thin knife to throw at Logan's head. It wouldn't kill him or anything!

The knife bounced off Logan's forehead. "Adamantium," Logan reminded. He popped the claws on his sword-hand as he charged Deadpool, slashing with the sword again.

Because you can never have enough pointy sharp metal things in a fight like this.

"Oh, screw that!" Deadpool rolled his eyes and dropped his sword, both arms behind his back to pull guns out.

...

Don't judge him, he liked the shooty!

"Hey, didja hear about what I did with Vikky?" He asked, point the guns at him and firing.

Logan took a few bullets to his left side, shuffled to his right, and threw his sword at Deadpool. "Yeah, but didja hear what I did to him later? I killed him."

Deadpool emptied the clips into him, ducking to avoid the sword.

"Actually killed him or waiting for a new creative team to want to use the character?"

"Head chopped off with a magic sword and it's not gonna grow back," Logan said, continuing to move forward with more determination but much less grace after taking more shots.

"Are you sure? Because, come on, we've all died (http://www.floatinghandsstudios.com/xmen1.html) how many times now?"

There was a discrete flash of light.

Discrete in the way that it really, really wasn't.

Also discrete in the way that it left a particularly large mutant standing in the room, his arms crossed-- "I didn't know guns were gym equiptment, these days..."

"My gym, my rules, they count," Logan growled.

Deadpool was reloading again. "I like them rules!"

"You might want to reconsider that if you're intent on keeping your gym standing and in business," Cable replied, rationally. He didn't move, or even particularly acknowledge the reloading. Let alone the growling. "Likewise about the costume, Wade."

Atlas Gym, Sunday

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