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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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"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."

"How long did I live in the mansion?" Logan asked. "I'm used to rebuilding."

"Seee?" Wade said with a grin. "It'll be fun to shoot him! Wanna try?"

It was tempting, really.

"I've located that crate we discussed," he said, sparing Logan just a glance. "One day only offer."

Wade paused.

"That's cheating!"

And then got antsy.

"Come on!"

"Good. I win. Again," Logan said.

"That's debatable," Nate said, calmly, sparing Logan one more sharp look before turning. "Wade?"

"...it better be damn good booze!" He grumbled, putting the guns away.

"It is," he said, strolling towards the exit. "I also still have your DVDs."

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Atlas Gym, Sunday

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