*** DISCLAIMER: The X-MEN are Copyright (C) 1997 Marvel Characters, Inc., 
and are property of Marvel Comics Entertainment Group. They have been
used without permission. No profit has been made from this work. This
story is Copyright (C) 1997 by Jon Bartley.

*** NOTE: This story may contain adult language, adult content, and
violence. Don't read this, if you're offended by any of these things.

BLACK LOVE (6/13)
By Jon Bartley

PART SIX: "Impetuous Souls"

"That's another one!" whooped Logan, as his sneakers return the blacktop
and the basketball fell through the netless hoop and into his hand. The
short, blackhaired man ran his fingers through his hair, then looked at
his watch. "Say, Cyke, when was the last time you scored a point?" said
he, grinning ear-to-ear.
     Scott was standing six feet away from Logan on the small basketball
court with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He
straightened up. "Enough with the talking. Let's just play, okay?" Logan
tossed the ball to Scott, and grinned. Both men had forgotten the score
of the game, but both knew Logan was ahead by at least four.
     "What are you two up?" a voice called from the door leading into
the mansion. Logan and Scott looked and saw Jean standing in the door
frame, holding two bottles of water that were so cold, the plastic
containers were fogged and dripping water. "Hmm?"
     Logan walked over, grabbed one bottle, and gave Jean a peak on the
cheek in gratitude. "Yer a doll, Jeannie." At this sight, Scott balled
his hands into fists. He then relaxed his hands, after realizing it was
silly to be angered at a friendly kiss between friends.
     "Here ya go, hon," said Jean, handing her husband his water.
     Logan sat down and began drinking his. "We'll take five, then back
to the game."
     "Actually, Logan. Could call off the game?" said Scott, holding the
cold beverage to his forehead.
     "Ha! I bet you wouldn't say that if you were winnin'."
     "Probably not. Maybe we could start back tomorrow?" =

     "I'd be happy to take your place," offered Jean, "if you're that
tired of playing..."
     "Thanks, hon. I think I'll go take a shower." Scott said and went
inside.
     Logan sipped his water. "Wimp."

He felt silly for getting upset over Logan giving Jean a friendly kiss,
but Scott even more silly for letting himself get angry over Wolverine
beating him at the game. It was just a game. It was the middle of summer
--the hottest of summer--and the heat was getting to everyone. A cold
shower was just what Scott needed.
     Nearly three seasons had passed, since he'd received this Gift of
his--since he'd wished his first wish and knew it would come true. Ever
since then life had been good.
     Scott went into his room, pulled his sneakers off, and headed for
the shower.
     YOU'D THINK, WITH NO RUBY QUARTZ, YOU'D SEE BETTER. BUT YOU'RE
STILL AS BLIND AS EVER, a shivering voice spoke.
     Scott looked into the bedroom. "Who said that? Is anyone there?"
     NO. NOT THERE. *HERE*. INSIDE YOUR HEAD. HELLO.
     "Who are you?"
     YOUR INNER VOICE, THE ONE THAT ADIVISES YOU ON THINGS. I'M USUALLY
QUIET WHEN I GIVE MY ADVICE. NO MORE OF THAT.
     "Oh." Scott scratched his head. "Were you going to advise me on
something just now?"
     YES. *HIM*. HE MADE A FOOL OUT OF YOU JUST NOW--BY BEATING YOU AT
THE BALL GAME... NOW HE'S PUTTING THE MOVES ON YOUR WIFE. AND YOU'RE
LETTING HIM.
     "Logan? That's nothing to worry about. That was just a game."
     JUST A GAME?!? HEH. OK. JUST A GAME. *NOW* IT'S JUST A GAME. BUT
WHAT ABOUT NEXT WEEK? NEXT MONTH? WHEN HE TAKES YOUR PLACE AS LEADER OF
THE X-MEN; WHEN YOUR WIFE IS SLEEPING IN HIS BED... WILL IT STILL BE A
GAME THEN? SERIOUSLY, SCOTT. WHAT DO YOU THINK THEY'RE *DOING* RIGHT NOW? 
PLAYING BASKETBALL? I WONDER. JEAN LOOKED MIGHTY HAPPY TO BE ALONE
WITH HIM.
     Scott walked back into his bedroom, then sat on the edge of his bed.
     WHEN LAST DID YOU AND JEAN MAKE LOVE, SCOTT? the Voice asked.
     "That bastard..."
     INDEED.  LOGAN LOOKS AT YOUR BEDROOM AS THOUGH IT WERE A BEE HIVE.
HE SEES THE TASTY HONEY WITHIN, AND WITHOUT ANY REGARD FOR THE STINGING
SWARM, HE STEALS FROM YOU. HE'S ROBBING WHAT'S YOURS. AND HE'LL KEEP ON
DOING IT, UNLESS YOU STAND UP AND BE A MAN. YOU HAVE TO MAKE HIM *PAY*,
SCOTT.

For the first time in a very long time, Scott was filled with an anger
he couldn't cool. He couldn't believe the things his inner voice was
telling him, but he had to. If you can't trust your own inner voice, who
can you trust? The more he thought about it, the more it all made sense.
     That night, Scott's dreams were terrific. He dreamed of murdering
Logan. Scott had powerful, leathery wings. His skin was scaly, his eyes
red. Four extra arms had grown underneath his two. There were hairy,
muscular and clawed. He'd pointed fangs and a scorpion's tail. Venom
sacs hung low from his jaw. Scott dreamed of swooping down from a
towering stone pillar and attacking Logan. He bit into Wolverine's neck
and tasted the sweetness of Logan's healing blood, as it ran over his
lips. Scott dreamt he had magical powers. He used them to pry open
Logan's chest and yank out what passed for a heart. Scott was content.
     He woke sweating. Scott touched his face. He appeared to be in the
form he'd always been. Scott rose from bed and strolled into the
bathroom. He looked into the mirror and concentrated. His eyes grew red
and pointy fangs poked out between his lips. Scott concentrated more and
they were gone. He went back to bed.

Early the next morning, Logan was hard at work in the cargo bay. Crates
were consistently being flown in from all across the world, and they all
had to be emptied, to make room for more. Today it was Logan's turn to
unload the contents. It was a nice change from the same old work. He
pried one crate open and tossed it aside.
     "Hello Logan," said Scott, spookily.
     Logan turned, and there Scott stood.
     "Hey... Jean kicked my ass yesterday," confessed Logan, smiling.
     "She told me."
     "Happy now?"
     "No. I'm on to you and your plan, Logan." Logan looked confused. "I
know about you and Jean," continued Scott. "I don't blame Jean, of
course. She's just an innocent victim. I admit I haven't been giving
Jean the kind of attention she needs, but you... you saw a little teeny
tiny crack in an otherwise perfect marriage and you decided to destroy
it."
     "If yer marriage breaks up, Scott, that's *your* fault." said Logan.
"Nobody can break up a couple's marriage but the couple. If you and
Jean love each other so much, if yer love is so strong, then you'll make
it work. Believe me, though, there ain't no 'Jean and Logan'."
     Scott smiled and shook his head. "You may believe your lies, but I
don't. Not for a second. I see right through them."
     Logan spun around and ejected all six of his bone claws. "All right, 
bub. You seem ta want a fight real bad! You wanna fight me? G'WAN! Hit
me with yer best blast! You better not show me any mercy, bub. 'Cause
the second my healing factor kicks in, I sure as hell ain't gonna show
you any!"
     Scott's skin turned hard and scaly, his eyes red and wicked; fangs
grew from his mouth; his leathery wings, scorpion's tail, and extra
appendages grew out. Scott normally stood at six feet--one foot higher
than Logan. In his monstrous form, he towered even more so.
     "Damn," said Logan.
     Scott pulled back a clawed fist and punched Logan in his chest. The
shorter X-Man flew through the air and hit an exit door from the hangar.
The exit door flew open and Logan skidded across an odorous stream of
sewer water. The Morlock Tunnels, Logan thought. Scott's wings lifted
him into the air and into the tunnel to meet his opponent. Logan shakily
stood to his feet, but Scott hit him again, throwing him to the end of
the tunnel.
     KILL HIM. KILL HIM. KILL HIM, the Voice urged.
     Lifting Logan up with two arms, Scott began beating Logan with his
four other. Then Scott threw his opponent and blasted him with a hateful
optic blast. The blast hit Logan's chest and briefly set it afire. It
cooled when he hit the water. Scott walked off, lifted Logan's head and
struck him across the face again.
     ENOUGH WITH THE PUNCHES. KILL HIM! DESTORY HIM! IF YOU DON'T, HE'LL
DESTORY YOU. HE WANTS YOUR LIFE, YOUR WIFE, YOUR POWERS. HE WANTS
EVERYTHING YOU HAVE! HE'S NOT LIKE YOU. HE'S A MONSTER. DESTROY HIM!
     Considering the Voice's words, Scott pulled up Logan's recovering
body. He felt the magical powers he'd had in his dreams surge through
his hands and into Logan. His opponent's pants ripped to shreds, as his
lower half twisted into slimy sluggish coils and turned pale. Logan's
head bubbled and swelled and became glazed with gooey slime. As Scott's
sculpting power finished working its magic, he dropped Logan's body and
watched as oversized beetle wings grew from Wolverine's back.
     WELL DONE, SCOTT, the Voice said. HE WOULD HAVE DESTROYED ALL OF
THE X-MEN, IF YOU HADN'T STOPPED HIM. VERY GOOD.
     Scott left the tunnels, returned to his normal form, and walked off
to have breakfast with his wife. By this time tomorrow, Scott promised,
no one in the mansion would even remember Wolverine.

To Be Continued...
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