Logan is Marvel’s.  Kai is mine.  I am mine, too.  (Though that’s occasionally
up for debate.)  Sensei, so far as I know, belongs to his wife.  That’s what
_she_ says, anyway.  The only one of these that would begrudge me any money for
this is Marvel, but I guess that doesn’t matter since I don’t make dime one
from this.

For anyone who actually has been following the "Kai and Logan" stories, this
would take place sometime after "Reactions".  Yep, I’m actually going so far as
to fit this into my continuity.  How scary is that?  Anyway, I moved them into
an apartment in a bad part of Manhattan.  Reasons why come out in the "real"
fan fics.

All righty, then.  Here’s my answer to the fan fiction challenge.  Enjoy!


Kai & Logan & (ulp!) Me!
by Kaylee (Kaylee1109@aol.com)

I smiled with what I hoped was a confident, friendly expression at the scrawny
guy who seemed to be heading in generally the same direction as me.  It just
would have been too weird for us to be the only two people on the street with
me pretending he didn’t exist.  Back in Birmingham, where I spent a little
chunk of my kidhood years, ignoring him would be considered extremely rude.  I
was kind of getting the feeling that things were different here in Manhattan,
though, because he started moving towards me as soon as I gave him that smile. 
He had a sort of … shifty look.  Like his eyes couldn’t stay fixed in one place
for too long.  My "raised in the suburbs" heart started pounding.  How could
you tell when you were in trouble in the big city?  When did you stop and
challenge someone, and when did you just wait a situation out?

My sensei would have said, "When in doubt, make a scene.  You can’t ever be too
careful."  Well, his advice had yet to fail me, and he’d certainly had more
experience in big cities than me, so ….

"Do you have a problem?" I asked the guy, stopping and trying to look competent
and secure and completely not nervous.

He finally met my eyes, but barely.  "No baby.  I don’t got a problem."  He was
still walking towards me.  I tried to remember everything Sensei had said about
street fights, but nothing was coming to mind.  Well, we’d always been taught
at the dojo that the reason we train so hard is to program our bodies to act
for us in a crisis … maybe my body knew what to do.  Maybe.

If it came to that.  Would it come to that?  Oh geez … why the heck did I come
to New York, anyway?

"Ya wanna try some smack, baby?"

Smack?  Some sort of drug?  "No," I said flatly, not backing up.  (Though I
wanted to!)  "I’m not interested."

"Aww … come on, now.  How do ya know if ya ain’t tried it?"

Okay … try the tough front.  "Back off."

"Ya don’t gotta get bitchy.  I just wanna show you a good time, that’s all."

He was really close by now.  I wondered if he’d try to grab me.  Well, I’d
always wanted to see how it felt to be in a fight, and he didn’t look too tough
….

"Weasel."  

Huh?  Who said that?  I looked past the skinny guy to see the new arrival even
as he whirled around, suddenly not seeming all that threatening.  More like
scared, really.  Just a little ways past him was a short, stocky guy who looked
to be about ninety-nine point nine percent muscle, and that might be estimating
on the low side.  He had dark hair, brown eyes, and a sort of serious face that
didn’t look like anyone I wanted to mess with.

"Shit, man … I was just bein’ friendly …," whined the scrawny guy … Weasel? 
"No harm done."  He started to edge away, smiling and holding arms out to show
how very harmless he was.  

The short guy didn’t bat an eyelash.  "Get outta here, Weasel.  ‘Fore I decide
I’m in a bad mood."

"Hey, man, I’m like gone, okay?  Totally outta here.  Bye."  And then Weasel
took off running.  Leaving me with this other guy, who certainly looked more
threatening than the druggie.

"You all right?" he asked me.

"Fine."  I gave another of those "please let this be a nice confident
expression" smiles.  "Thanks very much.  I appreciate it."  Now leave.  Go
away.  Let the bumpkin find her own way out of here.

He didn’t look like he was going to leave.  "Are ya lost?"

Yes!  "No."

"This ain’t the safest neighborhood to be walkin’ around at night."

Tell me about it.  "Yeah, well … I’m just passing through."

"Sure," he said skeptically.  "Lemme guess … ya wandered off from a tour group
earlier and can’t find your way back."

Did I stick out that bad?  "Look, I’m just going to catch a cab, okay?  I’m not
looking for any trouble."

He snorted and gave an utterly not reassuring half-smile.  "Ya ain’t gonna get
a cab in this area this late.  Not ‘less you call one."  He turned and motioned
for me to follow.  "Come on.  You can use our phone."

Oh boy.  Follow him?  He might be a Dahmer or a Bundy or a Kemper, or
something.  "Uh, thanks really, but …."

"Ya wanna keep walkin’ ‘round the street all night?"

Just … just go with him and use the phone.  No biggie.  In Birmingham, I
wouldn’t even hesitate.  Well, I might hesitate a little ….  What would Sensei
say?  "Times are gonna come where you gotta take risks.  If you do, just keep
your eyes open and stay ready for anything."

Okay, Sensei.  But if I die, I’ll never forgive you.

His apartment building was just around the corner.  It was a scrungy looking
thing … worn brick and faded wooden shutters on most of the windows.  I
followed him into the building and then up a flight of stairs.  The decal on
the door said "4B".  I fidgeted while he unlocked the door.  

When it opened, I smelled smoke.  The guy scowled and covered his nose, walking
through the door and bellowing, "Kai!  What the hell’d ya burn this time?!"

A voice sounded from a back room.  "Biscuits," this "Kai" person called
cheerfully.  "Y’know … the ready made kind."  A woman came into the living
room.  She was maybe a little shorter than the man, with dark auburn hair tied
back in a ponytail.  "Did you get the -."  She saw me and broke off.  "Ah.  A
guest."

I fidgeted again in the doorway.  "Um … hi."

The guy was waving his hand at the air as if it would get rid of the smoke
smell.  He seemed excessively irritated about it.  It really wasn’t too bad. 
"She’s gotta use the phone, Kai.  Get the number for the cab company, would
ya?"

"Sure."  She gave me a smile that might have been meant to reassure … but
somehow didn’t.  There weren’t too many couples who did serial murders, were
there?  Come on now … I was a criminal justice major.  I could "read the
signs", right?  I mean, I’ve read all the books on the big psychopaths ….  "You
gotta name, kid?"

Kid?  Did she know me well enough to call me "kid"?  "Jaya," I said without
thinking, then cursed myself.  That’s the most informal name I go by, the more
common being Kaylee.  Why’d I go and tell it to these people?

"I’m Kai," she said, then darted a glare at the man, who’d plopped himself down
on the couch and lit a cigarette.  "As you already heard," she added wryly. 
"And that’s Logan, since he’s got the manners of a bull and probably forgot to
introduce himself."

Logan gave me a half-wave, as if acknowledging the name or the description.  I
smiled tentatively, feeling the way the facial muscles protested the false
expression.  I just wanted out of this.  I’m not a New Yorker.  I don’t know
how to survive out here.

Kai picked up the phone to call the cab company.  "Where you heading, Jaya? 
They’ll need to know."

I tried not to shrug.  "Train station?"  Oops, that wasn’t meant to sound like
a question.  I cleared my throat and tried again not to look nervous.  "Yeah,
train station."

She put the phone back down and looked at me with one eyebrow raised.  "You
don’t have the faintest idea where you’re going, do you?"

"Uh, well … I -."

"You’re too old to be a runaway.  What are you … early twenties?  So why are
you wandering around a not-so-nice neighborhood of Manhattan in the middle of
the night?"

"Twenty," I said weakly, answering the only question I really had a sensible
response for.  "I’m twenty."

Logan snorted again from the couch.  "Ah, leave the kid alone, Kai.  If she
wants to go haring off in the middle o’ the night to try an’ get lost again,
it’s her right."

I opened my mouth to say something … what, I don’t know … but Kai beat me to
the punch.  "I’m not sending some poor kid off who has no idea where she’s
going."

"People got a right to be stupid, if they wanna."

Stupid?  "I’m just not too experienced with cities, okay?  You can drop the
name calling."  Did I just say that?  Jeezubus … well, these people did kind of
demand an "informal" atmosphere.  "And I don’t know where I’m going because I’m
just traveling around right now, and I don’t have anywhere in particular to be.
 I can go anywhere.  Just have to decide."

He grinned.  It looked kind of like it does when a wolf grins.  (I should know.
 I have a hybrid.)  "Was just messin’ with ya, kid.  Wanted to see if you’d
take the bait."

Was this a New Yorker thing?  "Well … I guess I took it."

"Yep."  He took a long puff off the cigarette.  "So you’re seein’ the world,
huh?"

"That’s the idea."  No one had invited me to sit down, but I got the impression
they didn’t much care what I did as long as I didn’t cause any damage, so I
walked over and took a chair.

"Lemme guess … nice middle-class family."

"Well …."

"Logan, leave her be."  Kai was digging around in the kitchen, pulling out cans
from the cabinet.  "Can you stand chili, Jaya?"

"Uh … sure."

"Want me to make it?" Logan asked with another of those strange grins.  

She sent him a sour look.  "Don’t be an ass.  I think I can handle chili.  And
the way _you_ make it would have the kid’s mouth on fire."

"Why do you two keep calling me ‘kid’?  I’m not _that_ young."

"Sorry," she said, unapologetic.  "Habit."

From downstairs, someone shouted.  I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone
was angry.  Kai and Logan both straightened and tensed up a little, and it
looked like they were listening for another shout.

"Candy," said Logan after a minute.  "Again."

Kai wiped off her hands on a dishtowel tucked haphazardly through the handle on
the refrigerator.  "Better her than JoJo.  I’ll handle it.  Why don’t you heat
up the chili?"  She stopped on her way to the door and gave him a glare.  She
seemed to do that a lot.  "Without adding a hundred spices, please."

"Yes, ma’am," he answered with another grin.

I watched him go into the kitchen and start unceremoniously opening cans and
dumping them into a pot.  "Logan?"  

"What?"

"What is it she’s ‘handling’?"

He gave a half-shrug.  "Gals downstairs sometimes bring home the wrong kinda
fella.  If they have problems, one of us goes down to help out."

"Help out how?"

"Just depends on how stubborn the guy is.  Or how stupid."

"But -."  I was interrupted by a scream from downstairs.  It sounded like a
man, and a man in pain to boot.  My eyes went wide.  "What was that?"

He gave another half-shrug.  "Sounds like she got a stubborn stupid one."

Oh gods … what the hell have I gotten myself into?  "Um … what’s she doing to
him?"

Another scream, this one louder.  He cocked his head in a listening posture. 
"Breakin’ his arm, I’d guess."

Blood drained from my face.  He sounded completely serious.  "So … I guess she
knows how to fight, huh?"

"Yep."

"Do you?"

"Yep."  He ignored another scream casually as he set the pot on the stove to
heat.  "Ya wanna beer?"

"Sure," I said weakly.  Stay on his good side, Jaya.  Don’t piss him off. 
Suddenly a first degree black belt wasn’t seeming like such great protection
after all.  

Sensei, I promise I’ll come back and train for years and years if I just get
out of this one safely.

He opened the fridge.  It looked like half the interior was stocked with beer. 
Great.  I was in the middle of a bad neighborhood in Manhattan with two people
who didn’t seem to think anything of breaking limbs … and now they were
alcoholics, to boot.  I gave another panicked "totally calm, totally not
nervous, totally casual" smile as he tossed a beer at me.  I tried to catch it
and ended up fumbling it down to the floor.  He gave an amused chuckle, which
didn’t serve to make me feel any better.  

"You can smoke, if ya want."

"How’d you know I smoked?"  Idiot!  Don’t question him!

"Smelled the tobacco on ya."

"You did?"  I sniffed surreptitiously at my shirt, but wouldn’t have been able
to smell anything past the burnt biscuits and cigarette smoke from earlier,
anyway.

"Got a good nose."  He pulled himself out a beer and popped the cap, taking a
respectable swig.  I opened mine, and proceeded to yelp as foam overflowed from
the top.  He chuckled again and grabbed some paper towels from the roll perched
on the top of the fridge, then came over and crouched to mop up the spill,
ignoring my apologetic offer to do it.

Kai came in a few minutes later, her hair a little loosened from its ponytail,
but otherwise looking just the same as when she left.  "Same guy," she told
Logan.  "Can’t imagine why he came back, after last time."

"Just didn’t teach him a good enough lesson last time, darlin’."

"Well, that’s fixed now."  She seemed to notice suddenly that we both had
beers, so she helped herself to one from the fridge and came over to drop down
on the couch with a sigh.  "Candy and JoJo are hookers," she explained to me
bluntly.  "They don’t have a pimp, and they don’t have enough dough to keep a
separate room for ‘work’, so they turn tricks at home.  Sometimes a customer
gets rough."

"I see."  Despite the fact that these two people unnerved the hell out of me, I
was starting to get curious about them.  What kind of people handled angry men
for prostitutes, and did it so casually?  "Have you ever … helped out … with
one you couldn’t handle?"

She gave me a funny little smile.  "Not so far."  She tipped back the beer and
took a swallow, then lowered it and reached for the pack of cigarettes Logan
had left on the worn coffee table.  Trying to be companionable, I shifted
around and dug my own pack out of the pocket of my jacket.  She didn’t say
anything as I tried to make the stubborn lighter come up with a steady flame. 
After three unsuccessful tries, she leaned forward with her own and held it for
me to light up.

"Thing’s will kill you, y’know," she commented, puffing nonchalantly on hers.

"Yeah, I’ve heard," I answered, taking a satisfying drag that actually did seem
to help me collect my nerves.  "Um … have you two lived here long?"

She shrugged.  "A little while.  Spend most of our time with some friends
upstate, though.  This is just a getaway spot."

A "getaway spot"?  They come _here_ for a "getaway spot"?  "Why?" I asked
without thinking.

Another casual shrug.  "Place we usually stay has gotten pretty crowded,
lately.  And besides, people around here sometimes need a hand.  Like Candy
just now."

"Oh."  The need for further conversation was interrupted as Logan brought over
three steaming bowls of chili.  He sat on the couch next to Kai and grabbed the
remote to turn on the news.  I sniffed delicately at the chili, trying not to
be obvious and wondering if I would be able to smell poison or drugs, anyway. 
If they noticed, neither one of them gave any sign.  Kai stubbed out her
cigarette, then settled back and drew her legs up beneath her, eyes fixed on
the TV as she spooned up a mouthful.

Then she choked and dropped the spoon back into the bowl.  "Logan!"

He was grinning broadly.  I noticed that he’d also scooted over to the edge of
the couch and was holding his bowl between them like a shield.  "Yeah?"

"I _said_ no spices!"  She thumped the bowl down on the coffee table and glared
at him.  

"Betcha Jaya likes it," he said, unrepentant.  "Don’t ya, Jaya?"

Oh, great.  Now I was trapped into trying this stuff.  What if this was a neat
little trick to get me to swallow down some sort of tranquilizer?  "It’s
great," I answered, smiling again.  "Just great."

Kai turned that glare on me.  I wanted to sink into the chair.  "You haven’t
even tried it yet," she pointed out.

"Um … well it _smells_ great."  Under those eyes, I swallowed hard and gathered
up a spoonful.  I breathed a quick little prayer to whatever gods may be and
took it in my mouth.

Then gasped as I choked it down.  Not poisoned, maybe, but spicy as all get
out.  My eyes watered involuntarily.  Kai turned triumphantly back to Logan. 
"You see?" she demanded.  "She can’t stand it either!"

"Not … bad …," I managed.  "Really."

He made a disgusted sound and took a sizable mouthful, swallowing it down with
gusto.  "Women got no stomach for hot food," he muttered, still warily keeping
an eye on Kai.

"Gimme that," she said to me, taking the bowl from my hands and plunking it
down on the table in front of him.  "Then _you_ eat it," she growled to Logan
as she stood.  "I’m gonna make us something edible."

Logan grinned at me like a conspirator over his bowl.  "Got a bit of a temper,
don’t she?"

"Uh uh," I told him firmly, shaking my head emphatically.  "I’m not taking
sides.  _She_ just broke some guy’s _arm_ a few minutes ago."

"Dislocated, actually," she called from the kitchen.  "And he was beating up a
woman.  What would _you_ have done?"

Secretly, I thought that I’d have liked very much to do what she did, but aloud
I said, "Called the cops, maybe."

Logan washed down some more chili with a swallow of beer.  "Darlin’, before we
came here, Candy and JoJo took some real ugly beatings now and then.  They
never called the cops.  Ya know why?"  I shook my head.  "’Cause, like Kai told
ya, they’re hookers.  Prostitution is still illegal, y’know.  If they’re in
jail, they ain’t makin’ the rent money."  His eyes had a kind of hard look. 
"Life ain’t as simple out here as it is in the suburbs."

I guess maybe I flinched a little.  He was right, and I knew it.  "That’s why
I’m traveling," I said quietly.  Somehow I thought that he might be able to
understand that better than the family that thought I was nuts and the friends
who called me a fool.  Not all my friends, of course.  To some it made perfect
sense.  But many had laughed or been scornful when I started my little trek,
and it had hurt my confidence a bit.  "I want to be able to make a difference."
 It was almost easy to tell him this, to tell _them_ this.  These people, after
all, went out of their way to do so.  "I know I don’t have the life experience
to do that yet, so I’m trying to get it."

Kai had gone silent in the kitchen.  When I glanced towards her, she was
smiling faintly at me.  "Good kid," she said softly.  At that moment, she
didn’t look threatening at all.

Logan took a last puff from his cigarette and stubbed it out.  He seemed to
accept what I said easily, and moved on to practicalities without making any
sort of judgment.  "So what about clothes an’ stuff?  Is all ya got what you’re
wearin’?"  

I blushed a bit.  "Actually … I set my bag down while I was reading some ads
for jobs, and someone stole it."  Go on, I thought.  Laugh at the idiot who
made such a dumb mistake.

But he didn’t laugh.  "How ‘bout money?  You okay for now?"

I unconsciously touched a hand to the pocket of my jeans where I had my cash. 
"I’ve got a little bit."

His eyes narrowed.  "Don’t do that."

"What?"

"If someone asks ya about money, don’t let ‘em see where ya got it.  You’re
askin’ to be robbed."

"Oh."  I flushed again.  It was so sensible, and I hadn’t even thought about
it.  To cover my discomfiture, I took another swallow of beer.  As long as it
had been since I’d had alcohol, and as empty as my stomach was, I was already
feeling a little light-headed.  "I guess I’m still pretty green."

"Yep."  He half-smiled.  It was almost reassuring now, that expression that had
made me so nervous to start with.  "And just so ya know … drinkin’ with people
you’ve never met before ain’t the smartest thing in the world, either.  For all
you knew, we coulda been some sorta crazies."

I almost laughed at how closely he echoed my earlier thoughts, but was too
embarrassed to get the sound out.  "Okay."

"And while we’re on it, comin’ to the apartment like that was pretty risky,
too."

"Logan."  Kai came back over and handed me a turkey sandwich.  "If she never
trusts anybody, she won’t get too far."

"If she trusts the wrong person, she’ll get all the way into a grave," he
answered bluntly.  "If she’s gonna do this walkabout o’ hers, then she needs to
learn to be careful."

"Caution can inhibit action."  I was getting the feeling this was something
they debated endlessly, each switching to the other side whenever they thought
the other was convinced of their first argument.  That just seemed so … _them_
somehow.

I turned half my attention to the news as they talked and I ate.  Someone was
reporting on a new government project.  It sounded like another of those
attempts to control mutants … or eradicate them.  Kai and Logan fell silent as
the reporter droned on.  A glance showed tension in his face, fury in hers.  No
one spoke while the ugly agenda was laid out.

"You wanna make a difference, Jaya?" Kai asked after a moment in an oddly
toneless voice.

"Yes."

She nodded towards the screen.  "That’s where you make a difference.  You learn
what you need to know.  Travel as much as you have to, but make sure you’re
learning.  And then you go back and change people’s opinions.  That’s how
you’re gonna make a difference."

I stared at the images for a moment.  "I was thinking of a more hands-on
approach."

She looked at Logan.  He met her eyes, then turned a steady gaze on me. 
"Well," he said after a minute.  "There’s a place for that, too."

***

They told me in no uncertain terms that I was staying there that night.  It
might have had something to do with the fact that I wobbled when I tried to
stand after downing a second and third beer.  Kai found some clothes for me to
sleep in, sheets and a pillow for the couch, and then she wished me a good
night before heading back for the bedroom Logan had retired to a few minutes
earlier.  

I stayed awake for a long time, mind running over a whole bunch of stuff I was
trying to make sense of.  Somewhere during this evening, I’d remembered why I
started out on this little journey in the first place.  I wanted to learn about
people; the good and the bad.  I wanted to see past the easy differences that
I’d grown up taking for granted.  I wanted to find the similarities that made
us all human, with all the weaknesses and strengths that come with being human.

I thought that maybe I’d learned a good bit tonight.

Sometime into the wee hours of the morning, the phone rang.  I’d drifted off to
sleep, but the quiet jangle woke me up.  There was movement in the bedroom, and
then a few minutes later both of them came out.  I sat up sleepily and rubbed
at my eyes.  They were fully dressed and looked wide awake … and tense.  Not a
worried sort of tenseness, exactly … more like a readiness I remembered seeing
in some of the higher ranking black belts at the dojo before they went into a
challenging fight.

"We gotta run out, Jaya," said Logan, as Kai stopped by the door to drop down
what looked like a duffel bag.  "Sleep tight.  Help yourself to whatever ya
want in the kitchen when ya wake up."

"Okay."  I wanted to ask where they were going, but something … something in
that readiness forbade it.  Logan clasped a hand on my shoulder briefly in a
gesture that was almost paternal.

"See ya, kid," he said gruffly.  Then he turned and walked towards the door. 
Kai held it open for him, but her eyes were on me.

"You’re doing a good thing, kiddo," she told me quietly.  "Don’t quit."  And
before I could answer, she was out the door as well.

I stayed up after that.  Couldn’t get back to sleep when I tried.  When the sun
peeked in through the window in the morning, I went into the kitchen and poured
a bowl of corn flakes.  Munching the cereal, I headed back into the living
room, glancing reflexively towards the duffel Kai had set there earlier.  There
was a note on top of it with "Jaya" printed in large letters.  Setting down the
bowl, I went over to read it.  The handwriting was small and neat.  

"Jaya ….  Stay if you want.  Leave if you don’t.  The bag and clothes are for
you, if you decide to go.  There’s money in the side pocket.  Don’t be an idiot
and try leaving it on the counter or anything!  Take it!  Be careful.  Kai and
Logan."  Beneath the script were two phone numbers, one listed as "home" and
the other saying "Xavier’s School".  A quick, messy scrawl that somehow _felt_
like Logan to me said, "Call if you get in a bind."

My heart was pumping an unsteady rhythm as I felt into the pocket for the
money.  I counted it out slowly.  Two hundred dollars.  That more than doubled
my paltry store of traveling funds.

I forced myself to finish the bowl of cereal.  Treated myself to a shower
before slipping back into my jeans and T-shirt from the night before.  When I
passed through the bedroom to get to the shower, I noticed a rack of weapons
much like the one Sensei had up at the dojo.  A quick inspection showed what I
was already starting to suspect … none of them were decorative, and every bo,
set of chucks, tonfa, and the like had signs of use.  There was a stand for a
sword, but it was gone.  I thought I vaguely remembered Kai having something
slung over her shoulder when she paused by the door ….

I went back into the living room and slung the duffel bag over my shoulder by
the strap.  It was comfortable and lightweight … a good quality bag.  I found a
sheet of paper and a pen in a drawer in the kitchen, then chewed my lip for a
minute while I thought about what to write.

I finally settled on, "Thank you."  I wished there was a way I could convey how
much I meant it … but I’d have to assume they would know.  Maybe at some point
in the future, I could give them a call and make it more clear.  Sometime
_after_ I achieved at least some of what I set out to do.

I turned away from the room and went to the door.  Opened it, turning the
little lock on the handle so that it would be locked behind me, and walked
through.  The door shut with a solid sound behind me.  My heart was pounding
with anticipation.

Sensei … it may be a bit longer before I get back to you.  Sorry to renege on
the promise, but there’s something I have to do.

I thought that maybe he’d understand, too.

--end--