Hero Worship

Time reference : This takes place after Operation Zero Tolerance, before Scott and Jean left.

Disclaimer : Every character belongs to Marvel, and I will make no money off of this story. No matter how much I might hope.

Feedback : This is my VERY FIRST completed X-Men fan fiction story. Please let me know if I should go back to reading and praising all of you, or if I should add writing to the list of chores.

"Are you sure this will work?" Scott asked me nervously. "I mean, I still remember when you used to prance around the Professor's mansion calling yourself Sprite."

"Trust me. Brian and I have been designing this for weeks," I finished the final calibrations on Scott's new visor. "And if you bring that 'Sprite' name up in front of Wisdom, I'll hurt you."

"Of course not. OW!"

I had savagely pinched him. "I mean it, Scott. I'm not that little girl anyore. And I'm no longer in awe of you." I had grown up. I was on my own team, and even Brian had realized I was an adult since I graduated St. Searles Girls School. I was no longer in awe of the "First X-Man."

"Kitty, there was no need to get physical with me. I understood."

"I don't believe you. Admit it. Sometimes you still see me as the silly girl that started the next wave of X-Men, about as old as Jubilee."

"I'm not that old, that I forget people, _Shadowcat._" Scott ran a hand through the hair that continually flopped near his eyes. It wasn't quite long enough to flop in his eyes, but Jean had decided long ago that she was going to be in charge of how Scott looked, and she liked floppy hair. That probably explained Gambit. Floppy Hair. Come to think of it, Pete's hair flopped very nicely.

"I mean, sometimes I hear you all, around a corner, and I listen. You all think of me as this stuffy jerk, out of touch with the world. But I'm not."

"No?"

"I'm just an X-man, doing what I think needs to be done."

"Well, times have changed."

As if on cue, from around the corner, we both heard Wolverine cry "I ain't gonna do it!"

"What's wrong, Logan?" Scott hurried around the corner, and I followed. Wolverine had just stomped out of the house. I stopped at the edge of the porch, within scent range, to let Wolvie sense that I was there without coming too close to him while he was mad.

But Scott just marched right up to him. Hadn't he learned how to deal with Logan yet? Breaking into Wolvie's personal space was NOT the way to do it.

"I just looked at the list you drew up," Logan spit around the cheroot in the corner of his mouth. "I see Jeanie's off monitor duty. I ain't pullin' double shifts this weekend just so your wife can go shopping or somethin'."

"She's still not recovered from Onslaught."

"Sez who?"

"Says me, Logan. You got a problem with that?"

"Maybe I do." This was getting serious. No one had made a serious challenge to Scott since Storm, and she was currently content to let him lead. Logan hadn't made a serious challenge ever. One or the other had always backed down, or someone else had interfered. But there was nobody else around except me. And the look in both their eyes told me not to interfere.

"You want to settle this now, Logan?" What was Scott doing? Trying to take Wolverine?

"As good a time as any, bub. But I ain't stupid."

"What do you mean."

"You can blast me halfway across the lawn before I touch you."

"Fine. You keep claws sheathed, I won't use the optic blasts. Either one of us slips, the gloves come off." Suicidal, that's what he was. Scott's finally snapped. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jean come out on the porch.

"Scott, honey? If it'll help, I'll work the shifts. I'm feeling better, now."

"Go back inside, Jean," Scott didn't even flinch to Logan's sneer. "It's past time this hairball runt got a lesson in leadership."

I choked back a strangled cry. What was he thinking?

"In fact, there's a whole bunch of times I kept back from teaching a lesson to this out of control, loudmouth, ex-spook jungle hunter boy, just because I didn't want you to see the violence'"

"Grrr..." I knew that was a warning growl. Jean knew that was a warning growl. Everybody in the mansion probably recognized that as a warning growl, except for Scott.

"In fact, I wonder if he's stopped drinking out of the toilet yet?"

With a cry of rage, Logan leaped at Scott, all fury.

And missed.

Scott had neatly sidestepped, and planted his fist in Logan's gut. Logan tried a sweep, to take out Scott's legs, but he leaped over it to plant both shoes in Wolvie's face. I realized I hadn't seen Scott fight hand-to hand since, well, since he could still be called 'Slim.' It must have been years since I last saw him in combat at all, and he _was_ always in the Danger Room practicing.

"C'mon, Logan," Scott was breathing heavily, and I saw that Wolvie was barely sweating. How much longer did Scott expect to do this? "C'mon, Logan. Finish me off. Don't you have a girlfriend to get killed?"

That did it.

SNIKT!

ZZARK!

Wolvie plowed a neat furrow in the lawn, back a good thirty feet. He sprang up, and started to shake off the effects of the optic blast as he stalked toward Cyclops.

"How about it, Logan? You're fast, but do you think you can sprint across this lawn fast enough? Faster than I can open my eyes?"

SHLUNK. The claws retracted, and Logan stomped past Scott, back up on the porch, and into the mansion.

"Scotty? Are you all right?" Jean ran across the lawn, to where Scott tried to catch his breath. He was having difficulty, and at least one of the sutures on his chest had broken open.

"I'm fine. Logan should have learned long ago not to fight when he's mad. I just needed to make him mad enough." He looked up. "Kitty? Sorry. Katherine?"

"Kitty's fine." I managed to squeak out, still in shock over what I saw.

"Kitty, the new visor works fine. Tell Brian 'thank you' for me," And with that, the Summers headed into the mansion to find Dr. Reyes, leaving me alone on the front lawn. Did I say that I wasn't in awe of Scott Summers? I lied.

End

Epilogue

Logan slammed the door to the monitor room shut. Muttering under his breath, he headed out back to hop on the Harley and let the wind in his hair and bugs in his teeth cool his rage. He stopped in surprise.

Sitting on theseat of the Harley was a case of beer. Good stuff, not the swill he usually ended up finding in America. And three packages of cigars. And a note"

"Logan, I was a little rougher on you than you deserved. I'm sorry to have poked fun at your pain. Never fight mad.

- Scott

PS If Storm catches you smoking these inside the house she'll fry both our butts!

Logan laughed, at first quietly chuckling, but building to a full out guffaw. He grabbed the trophies and headed back up to his room.