Fender Benders And Consequences

The offices of Summers International were located in an impressive glass tower in the heart of Manhattan. The offices of the senior executives being especially impressive, each luxuriously appointment in the finest furnishings. Logan's corner office with the wraparound windows afforded him a spectacular view of the Hudson River and the New York skyline. Logan leaned back in his chair of butter-soft black leather, the jacket of his charcoal gray Armani suit casually tossed aside. He loosened the knot of his burgundy silk tie and undid the top button of his crisp white shirt. With his feet propped up on the cherrywood desk he contemplated his life. He loved his office and he loved his job as a corporate raider - acquiring smaller companies and dissecting them, keeping the parts that would benefit Summers International and tossing out the rest. He had earned the nickname The Wolverine for his ruthless skill at slicing and shredding these acquisitions. When The Wolverine decided to get his claws into a company - watch out. Yeah, he'd have to be real careful about his pursuit of Scott's little sister, he couldn't jeopardize his job, his entire career. He knew the minute Scott got a whiff of his plans he'd be in deep shit. Scott was bound to get his hackles up, hell, he would do the same if he had a sister that some lecher had designs on.

At that moment Logan wished he had a sister, or any family for that matter, somebody to give a damn about. He had been an only child. Both his parents were long gone, his mother to ovarian cancer two decades ago and his father to a massive heart attack a decade later thanks to too much boozing, eating and chain smoking. His father had only been in his fifties at the time, what a waste. That's why at thirty-two, Logan made sure he stayed in tip-top condition, he wasn't going to fall victim to the same mistakes. He'd even recently given up his favorite occasional Cuban cigar, not taking any chances. Damn, he missed a good stogie though. He still indulged in his favorite beverage of choice - gin and tonic, but tried to eat healthy, living with a doctor at least made that part easier, Jean rarely let him indulge in anything that was bad for him.

God, his life was painfully dull lately, Jean was just sucking the life force right out of him more each day. He'd have to make some significant changes real soon before he turned into Scooter. He shuddered at the thought. Ok, so the guy had some major responsibilities after Harrison and Margaret were killed in that senseless crash, but he could fucking lighten up once in a while. When he thought about it, Scooter and Jean had really made the perfect pair - both dull as dirt. Bet they used to have sex without breaking a sweat Logan thought with amusement. Hell, even he hadn't had to put any effort into lovemaking lately, nothing seemed to get a rise out of Jean. He spent too much time in the shower afterward finishing himself off. He might as well fucking live alone and get a blow-up doll. Hell, the doll would probably be better company. It was time to get Jean out of his life.

Scott now had a new love, Ororo Monroe the founder of that animal rescue group that the company had co-sponsored the fundraiser for a few months back. So even if she wanted to, Jean couldn't go crawling back - she'd been replaced. Serves her right for so easily dismissing what she once had with Scott. He felt no pity for Jean, she was no better than most of the women who fell into his bed so effortlessly. He was starting to have an immense disrespect for woman and that bothered the hell out of him. It was time to be with one that wasn't willing to whore herself so quickly. It was time to be with a decent woman, it was time to be with Marie. Now, he just had to figure out how. Coordinating plans for getting both cars repaired would be a good start. Yep, it would be a good excuse to spend time with her.

Logan smiled to himself. When Fitzsimmons the owner of that little piss-ant company they were seriously considering acquiring insisted that they meet at his home in Westchester, Logan had resisted at first. Driving all the way out to the godforsaken suburbs was not how he wanted to spend his morning. Stopping at that grocery store to pick up a pack of smokes turned out to have been a lucky break. He never thought he'd be happy to wreck his car!

Later that evening he returned to the loft he shared with Jean with a nagging feeling deep in his gut. He made the decision that he'd have to break it off with Jean before he started his pursuit of Marie. He wouldn't want Marie to feel like a homewrecker, he wanted to go to her with a clean slate. Jean was in the kitchen starting dinner, probably something bland as usual. Jesus, he missed good thick, juicy steaks.

"Hi, honey, I'm home."

It was a cutesy evening ritual that normally amused Jean, tonight she continued with her task without so much as a glance his way.

{She suddenly psychic? Did she somehow know what was coming?}

"Hello - anybody home?" he tried again as he strolled into the kitchen.

"You're late. I wish you'd have the common courtesy to call and let me know. What if I'd planned a special dinner? It could've been ruined," she snapped tersely.

"Do you have a special dinner planned?" Logan inquired, hoping she didn't - not tonight.

"No," she spat out.

"So, then what's the big fucking deal?" Logan asked, relieved.

He couldn't dump her after a 'special dinner', that would be plain cruel. He wasn't totally heartless after all.

"Never mind. It's not worth fighting over," Jean said deflated.

Logan looked at what Jean was putting together - salad - again. He was starting to turn into a fucking rabbit. He would have to start taking actual lunch breaks and eating some real goddamned food before he keeled over from malnutrition.

He walked out of the kitchen and stalked into the bedroom to change. Jean seemed to take pleasure in picking fights for no reason. It was like living with someone who had a permanent case of PMS. For far too long now the evenings had either begun or ended with a fight and it was starting to wear Logan down. He was starting to feel better about his decision to put an end to both their miseries. He hoped Jean would be as relieved as he was. He hoped. It would be easier on his conscience if she wanted out just as badly. He changed into a pair of gray sweats and, foregoing the shirt, he strolled back out to the living room.

Jean briefly glanced up at him as she set the plates down on the dining room table.

"Do you have to come to the table without a shirt on, we're eating for God's sake."

{She used to love it when I was parading around half naked - now it's irritating her. Well, fuck her. I'm comfortable, this is my home, too, damn it!}

Instead he said, "Didn't mean to offend you, Jeannie. It's too damn hot in here - try turning down the A/C and I'll consider becoming a fucking prude in my own home."

Ok, that came out a little harsher than he intended, but he was too fed up to be polite.

"Whatever," Jean snapped and sat down opposite him and poured herself a glass of wine.

She seemed to have a wine glass fused to her hand all the time these days. Jean was quickly turning into a lush before his eyes and it wasn't pretty. Of course, passing out nightly was starting to look like a good option to him, too.

They ate for a while in agonizing silence.

"What's happening with the car?" Jean finally asked breaking the icy silence.

"I'm working on it," Logan replied, adding silently {If you only knew.}

The only thing he'd told Jean about the accident was that the other driver was a teenager.

"I can't believe you let that kid talk you into not filing a police report, what were you thinking? The insurance company won't let you make a claim without one. How could you allow that kid to screw you like that?" Jean grilled him.

{Because I want to screw her literally, that's why.} Aloud he said, "I don't know. I wasn't thinking, I guess."

That part was true, he hadn't been able to think straight because all the blood in his head at that precise moment had suddenly headed south. He smiled at the memory.

Logan offered to do the dishes; which should have made Jean suspicious right there, but her brain was still clouded from the fight so it didn't register. She flopped down on the couch and started flipping through the TV channels hoping to find something decent enough that she could avoid any further conversation. Logan finished the dishes quickly and moved into the living room.

Walking over and switching off the television, he turned to Jean and said, "We need to talk."

Jean knew that nothing good ever followed those four words.

"This isn't working for me anymore, Jeannie. Be honest, it's not working for you, either," he began.

"I know," she stated simply.

Whoa, he didn't see that coming. This wasn't going to be as difficult as he'd feared.

"We both need to be with people we can have a future with and that's not going to happen for us."

{Might as well not beat around the bush.}

"Do you have someone in mind?" Jean inquired with a sudden catch in her throat.

{I've already stuck the knife in her, no need to twist the blade.} "No, I don't," he lied.

"So, do you have a plan on how you're going to find this special someone to have this 'perfect' relationship with?" she asked "You've exhausted all possibilities at the office," she added sarcastically.

"No, no concrete plan."

Well, that was half true at least. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Jean out, Marie in - wasn't exactly what you would call much of a plan. He was turning his life upside down for some slip of a girl he'd had a two-minute conversation with. What was he thinking? He was thinking that he was gonna make it work, that's what he was thinking.

"You can have the apartment. I'll move to a hotel until I can find a new place," he offered.

That's it he'd let her have this gorgeous apartment and prove to himself he wasn't a complete bastard.

"Fine, when are you leaving?" she demanded.

"You want me out tonight?"

So much for playing nice.

"Well, since it's so late, I guess tomorrow would be soon enough. You can sleep on the sofa tonight. And don't even think you're getting a farewell fuck from me!"

{Whoa, that was harsh - what makes her think I would waste the energy anyway. Someone ought to do her a big favor and tell her she's too lame in the sack to think so highly of herself.}

"I understand, no problem," he said instead. {Right now I wish you were psychic, bitch.}

Logan stalked into the bathroom to shower. He stood under the soothing spray for a long time, trying to calm down. He reached down and started stroking his penis. Yeah, much better. "Marie!" he cried out as he climaxed hard. Tomorrow he would definitely have to formulate a plan, definitely.