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Father Figure
Chapter 10

Scott, Storm and Rogue continued their argument for a while longer, until Jean arrived.

"What is going on? Scott? I can hear you downstairs."

Rogue angrily crossed her arms, while Storm tried yet again to place herself in between the two combatants. Scott merely snorted, as he turned to Jean.

"We were discussing Logan." Jean sighed and rolled her eyes. "I'll bet you didn't know that he left for the evening."

That got her attention. "No I didn't know. What do you mean he left for the evening?"

"Just that. He went out. Into town. Rogue here says he needed some fresh air. He just left the kid behind, and went off on his merry way. Lazy son of a bitch."

"He left Francis behind?" Jean, too, was beginning to show her anger.

Rogue stomped her foot, to get everyone's attention. "I told Logan that I would peek in on the kid from time to time. He's asleep. Logan needed a bit of space. He's been with Francis all day and-" she stopped in mid-sentence, when she glanced at Logan's door, and noticed it slightly ajar. "Oh my God."

The four adults ran to the room, and carefully peeked inside. Francis was nowhere to be seen. Scott trotted inside, and looked in the bathroom. "He's not here." He lowered his head for a moment, deep in thought. "Ok, Rogue, Storm, check the kitchen. Maybe the little guy got hungry. Jean, go find the professor."

Rogue stood and stared at the kid's bed, with the blankets bunched up and the pajamas lying on the pillow. She spoke in hushed tones. "Maybe he heard us. His pajamas are here."

Scott walked over to the bed and stared as well. "Oh Jesus. Ok, let's be calm. If he did leave, it was probably to look for Logan. The professor will find him."

Logan and the blonde chatted for a time. It was the typical flirting that went on between a man and a women, right before they hopped into the sack together. This was the reason they were both there. No hiding the fact. But there were formalities that needed to be addressed first, and both were well practiced in the art. The final cue that it was time to get down to business, was the inevitable hand running up the thigh maneuver, which she performed to perfection. Logan was patient at times like these. This was a sure way to discover if the woman he was going to spend some time with was indeed skilled in more than just the art of the flirt. She certainly was.

Wordlessly, he paid up his, and the lady's tab, and they walked out the door. Once outside, the blonde led him to her mode of tranportation, which was, to his disappointment, a Dodge Caravan. Great wheels, he thought. However, he peered inside, and saw that the middle bench had been removed, leaving a great deal of room. It was beginning to appear that he would not have to pop for a motel room, or have to go to her place, for what he had in mind. It could all be accomplished in the van itself, and then, he could call it a night, and go home.

Apparently, she had the very same thing in mind. She had parked away from other cars, and away from any overhead lights, in a far corner of the parking lot. She slid the side door open, and crawled in, with Logan following behind.

Once inside, there was no more flirting, no more chatting. She immediately reached for his zipper, even before he was fully seated and comfortable. In one sharp movement, the zipper was down, and he was free from confinement, getting a pretty good handjob. She leaned into him, and proceded to give him an extremely deep, hot kiss. He wasn't complaining. He leaned back and accepted what she was doing, letting his hands do a little bit of searching as well. This would all go very smoothly, as he discovered during his probing that she was already wet and ready. So was he. Ready to explode. She lowered herself into position to give him what promised to be a wonderful blowjob, and she maneuvered herself so that he could do a little bit of playing as well. Her skirt was pulled up, and her panties were off. His fingers went about their chore, as did she, and Logan leaned his head back, closing his eyes to enjoy.

Back at the mansion, there stood a quartet of very concerned adults, waiting impatiently, outside Cerebro. Scott paced the floor, with Rogue glaring at him. Jean and Storm remained very still, deep in their thoughts. They all jumped and moved forward when the doors to Cerebro slid open, and the professor glided out.

"He's on the highway, headed toward town."

"Then he did go to look for Logan?" Scott's face wore none of the anger he had shown earlier. Now there was just concern.

Rogue, however, was livid. "He'd still be asleep if you hadn't gone on that shouting rampage."

The professor, ever the diplomat, interceded. "We have no way of knowing if that is true. Right now, we must find him, and bring him back. I will try to contact Logan, to let him know what has happened. Jean, Storm, go out and look for Francis. Scott, Rogue, you two stay here with me. When we get him back, we can talk about any misunderstandings that may have occured."

Jean and Storm turned and left without saying another word. Scott looked up at Rogue, who was still seething.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted like that. I didn't know the kid could hear."

"He did. He heard everything you said about Logan. He's attached to him, and you made him sound like pure worthless shit."

Again, the professor interceded. "Rogue please. This isn't helping." He spun his chair slowly, a very weary, sad look developed on his face. "One thing is for certain. We should not have expected Logan to handle Francis alone. It was too much. We should have helped him. This was far too crucial to have been treated as an experiment. We have all failed Francis, and Logan as well." He glided into Cerebro, the doors closing behind him once more.

Logan had a broad grin on his lips as he sat there in the dark, feeling the woman's lips slide up and down his shaft. Her tongue was masterful, at once tickling him and stimulating him. It had been such a long time since he felt this way. Ready for release, but holding back, wanting it to last for bigger and better things yet to come.

He let his mind wander a bit, not quite ready for the next step, enjoying himself immensely. He could feel all of his tension disappearing, one muscle at a time. He was right, he told himself. This is exactly what he needed after spending the entire day with a young child, whose mouth never stopped. A kid who was frightened of his own shadow. A kid who for some reason, latched onto him, and would not let go. He could picture the kid's brilliant green eyes and the mussed up red-blonde hair, following him around, asking question after question, grabbing onto his leg when he was scared. Logan decided the kid was ok, as kids go. He certainly felt sorry for him. But he could not fathom the attachment the child held for him. Why was this kid so hung up on him? The frightened children usually warmed to Storm right away, and they usually avoided him like the plague. Pretty much everyone did, at least in the beginning. But this kid?

Logan suddenly became light headed. His eyes shot open, and he looked down, to see the blonde still working her magic. His mind became cluttered and foggy, and he slowly became aware of a voice, a voice in his head, calling to him. The professor. What the fuck is this all about?, he wondered as he tried to remove the fog from his mind, and concentrate on the voice.


He focused a response. "What is it?"

"It's Francis. He's left the mansion, apparently looking for you. He is on the highway right now, heading in your direction. Would you look for him? I'm afraid he overheard a discussion he shouldn't have, and may be a little upset. We need to talk to him."

Logan sat straight up, and shouted. "WHAT?!"

The blonde pulled away from him, a little taken aback by his outburst. "It's ok, baby. What happened? Did you doze off or something?" She tried to return to her task, but Logan was already pulling himself together, and reaching for the door. "Hey baby. Where you going?"

"I gotta find somebody." Logan slid the door open, and tried to tuck his still erect tool back into his pants. "Uh, thanks.....I gotta go." He was still trying to zip his fly when he climbed out, and trotted to his bike.

From inside the bar, the three college boys were watching out the window.

"Look at him go. Holy shit!" One of them observed.

"Look at the bike he's got. Modified all to hell. Did you see the wad of fuckin' money he was waving around?" Another added. "Too bad he's afraid of a little pussy, huh?"

The third made a final comment, before returning to his beer, as he watched the bike speed out of the parking lot. "Must've cost quite a bit to modify that bike." His eyes narrowed as he watched the bike disappear from sight down the road.

Chapter 11

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