Careless Moment, Lifetime Regrets

by Kerri

Part 12

An hour later he had a different view of the situation as he stood looking at the Manhattan skyline, waiting for his friend, Nick Fury, to come back from the kitchen with a drink.

"So who'd I make mad 'nough ta earn this visit?" Nick asked, handing him a cold beer.

"Thought ya'd like to know. I'm a daddy." Logan took a long pull from the bottle. It was early morning still, but hell, he needed something to face the day. After everything that'd happened in the last 24 hours, it was all uphill from here.

"Really? Some woman let ya get close enough ta have yer kid? Poor thing. Well, what is it?"

"It's a boy."

"A baby boy. Where'm I sendin' m'condolances?"

Logan gave him an irritated look. "He's a grown man. 56 years old. If yer feelin' sorry for anyone, it oughtta be me."

Nick laughed aloud. "Why, Ma tryin' ta get ya ta pay back child support? Or her old age pension? Y'sure he's yers?"

Logan had to laugh himself. "Yer so far from wrong, Fury. That's the crazy thing 'bout all this. Hank's already tested the boy. He's mine. Even looks like me, just bigger."

A strange look came over Nick's face. 56 years? "What's the ma's name?"

Logan didn't hear the question. "She ain't all the way human, an' she's a mutant. So's the boy. He looks like some punk kid. She don't look much older'n Kitty. Tried to kill me."

"Ya blame her? Don't all yer girlfriends try an' kill ya?"

"Yeah, but not till after I remember givin' them a reason to hate me. I don't remember anythin' about this one. Kinda like to know why she wants my head."

"What's his ma's name?" Nick asked again.

"Charlotte. Don't remember the last name. She's got a place here in Manhattan. She don't need money, wouldn't take mine when they were discussin' the boy goin' to the Academy."

"An' what's this poor girl look like?"

"Damn, she's pretty, but her mouth'd get anyone in trouble. She's got these eyes..." He set the bottle down and took out a cigar from the box Nick kept handy. "All I know is she got hurt in somethin' I was s'posed ta take care of durin' the war..." his voice trailed off. He took a long look at his old friend. "Y'wouldn' know anythin' about this, would ya?" "

What, me know somethin' 'bout yer old girlfriends? They're all too scary fer me."

"Yeah, what was I thinkin'? 'Cause if I thought yer holdin' out on me, I'd have to hurt ya." Fury was holding out on him, had been nearly their entire friendship, but this?

"Hey, y'got a boy! That calls for 'nother drink." Nick went back to the kitchen to get him another beer.

"Nah, I gotta get back to the mansion. Jess, that's the boy's name, is there right now. He an' a couple o' the students barged in on us this mornin' an' she kicked us all out. Real nasty about it, too."

"Stop on by again som'time an' we'll get a poker game t'gether. It's been a while since the last one. I can see if Reed an' Ben are free fer some cards." He ushered Logan out, then went to the phone.

"Yeah, Dugan, y'member that mission back in the war, with the girl? Whaddaya mean 'which war?' There was only in one real war, Dum Dum. 'Member what her name was? Cash. I 'member that much, y'damn walrus, but what did ever'one call her? Charlie. That's right, I 'member that now. The general, what'd he call her? Charlotte. Yeah. I don't think she's as dead as we thought."

~*~*~*~*~

Charlotte looked up with annoyance from her paperwork at the desk in the library when the doorbell rang. If that was Logan, she was going to throw his sorry ass off the balcony for sure this time. It'd taken her all morning to cool off from that goodbye of his, and she still hadn't gotten the door fixed.

She opened the desk drawer and reached for the knife inside. This time there wouldn't be anyone to save him.

"Who is it?" she demanded through the door, tapping her foot impatiently, examining the edge of the blade. Oh yes, it was sharp and ready, and so was she.

"Charlotte Ashcroft?"

"I said 'Who is it?'" She was going to have a talk with the doorman, too, about letting just anyone in the building. She owned the damned thing, she paid his salary, he could damn well do what she told him.

"I'm lookin' fer an old friend, went by the name o' Cash."

A cold, sinking feeling settled inside her. That brought up more memories she didn't want to think about today.

She opened the left door of the double entry, keeping her knife ready in her right hand. "Well, as I live and breathe, Sgt. Fury, isn't it?"

"That's the question, ain't it? The livin' an' breathin' part." Nick gave the young woman a suitably charming smile.

It had no effect on her. "What do you want?"

"Just wanna talk some."

"I'm not in the mood for talking. Perhaps if you called and made an appointment?"

"Be kinda hard, since I don't have yer number."

"I doubt that. If you've got this address, you've got more information on me than might be considered healthy. Why don't you leave before I decide a mind wipe would be the best thing for us both?"

His eyes narrowed. "I don't suggest tryin' that." He started over. "I just wanna talk 'bout ol' times. We go way back, 'member?"

She opened the door further and let him in. "I have to wonder what brought you here at all." Too messy if she hurt him in the hall. Get him inside and hope the noise won't bother the neighbors.

"Mebbe a mutual friend." He entered and looked around. "Nice place ya got. Old-fashioned." It was a far cry from his own home of chrome and glass, but just as rich and lavish. Definitely another era.

"And who might that be?"

"Logan."

"Ah. Did he come crying to you about the mean bitch that whipped his butt in front of his friends?" she led him into her library. "Have a seat. It's not noon, but you want a drink?" She dropped the knife on the top of the desk.

The glass on her desk told him she'd already started Happy Hour. Both her and Logan were going at it early in the day. They'd be pickled by dinner. "Didn't say a word 'bout a fight, but I'd've paid ta see that. He was wantin' ta talk about his boy."

"My son. Not his, never his." She said that emphatically, punctuating her words with actions, gathering up her papers and dumping them in a drawer. "If he's thinking I'm going to let him play daddy this late in the game, he's got another knife coming."

"I think he's happy 'bout it." He remembered finding out about Mike. Logan was with him then, too. God, he loved the boy, and it made him sad and angry to have missed the growing years.

Logan should've had all these years with his son. Logan should've been the kind of man a boy would want for a father all these years. Little wonder he didn't tell him about the boy before. Then when Logan switched allegiances again to the right side of the law, he forgotten about the boy after thinking the mother had been killed. It would have done no good to bring up the past.

And Logan had plenty of enemies that would've loved to get their hands on his son. Some of them still would. He had to remember to bring that up when Logan attempted to disembowel him for his part in keeping this secret. He'd find out, just a matter of time now.

"He's got nothing my son needs." She refilled her glass. "Did you want one or not?"

"Okay."

She poured him one, then sat in the chair opposite him. "What do you want?"

"I'd like ta know how ya survived?"

She laughed. "What makes you think I did?"

"What am I drinkin'?" It tasted like it might have been Scotch, but not like he'd ever had.

"Scotch," she confirmed. "I think it's the 1880 stock." She took another swallow. "I hate Scotch."

He blinked. "Y'mean it's over 100 yrs old?"

"Is that a problem? I don't have anything younger in the house, but I could call down to the local liquor store and have something cheap sent up."

"Nah, don't want ta be any trouble."

"You've already been that."

He ignored her mutter. "Why ya drinkin' it if y'hate it?"

"I want to get drunk, but I don't want to enjoy it." She'd done enough wallowing in sinful pleasures lately. Now she just wanted to hate, and really put her heart in it.

That did make sense, sorta. "How did it happen?"

"Everyone's asking that question. First there was a bird, just minding her own business. Then, one day, a bee wandered by..."

"I mean, h'come yer still alive?" She thought she was funny, did she?

She closed her eyes. "I don't like to remember it. It was a long time ago." She could hear the explosion, smell the sulfur, feel the agony of blast. It was enough it haunted her nights, she didn't need daymares, too.

"I remember, I wuz there. I remember yer Logan's woman. Ever'one knew Cash belonged ta Logan."

"He doesn't remember, and right now I'm fine with that." She grimaced at him. "And if you refer to Cash as Logan's property again, I'll throw you out." Everyone might have known that, but very few had known the truth.

That Nick Fury was one of the few, well, she'd forgotten that over the years, too.

"Yer Cash."

"You just don't get it, do you? Cash is dead, she died in Germany 55 years ago. She's not coming back."

"I get it."

"I don't think you do, otherwise you wouldn't be here. How's Dum Dum, anyway?"

Before he could answer, the key in the front door lock got her attention. What more could happen?

She swirled the liquor in her glass. "Mr. Fury, yesterday morning was such a good morning. I woke up late, took a long, hot, decadent bubble bath with a great book. The only things on my mind were whether or not I was turning into a giant prune and where did I put the moisturizer. I didn't give a thought to my boys, 'cause they were off having some brothers-only time. Then I get a phone call, and my life is turned upside down. Which god did I irritate, and who do I need to sacrifice to make it all better?" And could she pick a sacrificial wolverine?

"Charlotte?" Thomas's voice called.

"The party's in here," she called back.

His dark head looked around the doorway, then he entered, Hank behind him.

"Oh, more company, how nice. Certainly my day for it. Thomas Ashcroft, Dr. McCoy, this is Sgt. Fury."

"We were worried about you," Thomas said, his eyes boring into Fury's. "Why didn't you come back to the mansion with Logan?"

"I've had enough. You're my son, not my father. Keep that in mind."

"Sgt., hmm, Fury and I have met," Hank said, his eyes twinkling at the head of SHIELD being addressed in such a manner.

"Good, that's just wonderful. Why don't you all go out somewhere together, the three of you. I don't care where. Downstairs bar, the bar across town. Hell, take a trip, I'll pay for it. Pick a place, one that's really far from here, and just send me a postcard."

"Mother-"

"Oh, now I'm Mother. You must want something. Forget it, you've done enough." She rose from her chair, swaying slightly. She'd had far too much to drink on an empty stomach. "You fellas lock up behind you. And get someone up here to fix my bedroom door. Jess tore it off its hinges."

"Tore it off the hinges?" Thomas repeated.

"You know how impulsive Jess can be, especially when he hears his mother scream. Get it fixed and I may consider forgiving your part in all this." She left the library, narrowly missing the doorjamb. She was drunk, no doubt about it. She needed to sleep it off in one of the guest rooms. She wasn't getting back into her own bed until she burned the mattress and sheets.

Thomas clenched his hands. "She is the most frustrating person."

"I'd say she's gotta right ta be difficult now," Nick said, "her an' Wolverine."

"What is your assigned role in this melodrama?" Hank asked, moving in to take a closer look at the book filled shelves.

"Logan came ta see me this mornin'. I knew her in the war. Thought she was dead."

"You're that Sgt. Fury?" Thomas asked.

"It's Colonel Fury now, if ya don't mind."

"Well, Colonel Fury, we've all been dismissed from her ladyship's presence," Thomas said sourly.

End Part 12.

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