The Canary and the Wolverine
Title: The Canary and the Wolverine
Author: Kelly
Prompt: Black Canary(Dinah Lance)/Wolverine(Logan), Costumes
Rating: PG
Word count: 2940
Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'll give them back when I'm done, I promise!
Warnings: (if any)
Author's notes: (if any) So I have been kicking around the idea of this in my head for awhile, but only just wrote this today. I have other parts in mind and hopefully will get to expanding the story. This was pretty difficult, as I have never written either character, so I apologize if I wasn't as true to the characters as a better-qualified writer would have been.
Also, takes place a year after Oliver Queen's death, so after the events of the longbow hunters, and after Jean Grey's most recent death at the hands of Xorn/Magneto and is not completely true to any timeline of events. But it's a crossover so what do you expect? :)
Martian Manhunter once suggested that the brunette Dinah Lance was the costume, and that Black Canary, the 'blonde bombshell' crimefighter was her true self.
Dinah had yet to make up her mind about that.
Truth be told, there was very little time to decide which was really her while juggling her two lives.
Tonight, as she raced down the highway on her motorcycle, her mind wandered for only a moment to this question. It was hard lately to understand where her troubles ended and she began, let alone to straighten out her two identities.
She did know that she’d like to meet whoever had said ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved it all’ and personally kick their ass. She’d loved, all right. And she’d lost, big time. Given the choice, she thought she would rather take it all back. She'd lost more than just Ollie though.
Her vocal chords burned at the thought of all that had deserted her over the past few years.
An explosion rocked the street in front of her. She slid to a stop, just short of her target. He was a thin man in his late forties, and would have been unremarkable were it not for the black pleather suit with a vibrant flame design.
She hopped off her bike and approached the man.
“When you left the house this morning, was that really the best wardrobe choice available?” she asked.
A second later, she dove to the ground as a miniature missile whizzed overhead. It impacted the building behind her. She swore under her breath. This was getting too messy. The only good here was that the only residence on this block was above a florist shop, and she knew for a fact that was empty at the moment. All the other buildings were closed.
She flipped into the man and pinned him to the ground.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Norman, but you’re going to have to stop causing property damage here or I will be forced to.”
“I’ve already told you,” the man replied, “It’s Dr. Dynamite! Norman Griggs is a nobody. I’m a somebody!”
Dinah shook her head and continued to hold the man down. It was only a matter of time before the police showed up, with all the noise they’d made. She was sure they’d be all too happy to take Norman into custody.
Norman had once been the lead developer at an NixTek, a local engineering firm. Dinah wasn’t quite sure when or how it happened, but his technological prowess had taken the next step and the man had become a full fledged technopath. With even the smallest of components, he could build just about anything he could imagine.
Why a technopath would waste his time trying to blow things up when he could be doing something useful for the world was beyond her. It seemed a lot of talent went to waste when the possessors of said talent stopped playing with a full deck.
“Dr. Dynamite? I think you should stick with Norman,” she said. He finally stopped struggling and relaxed under her hold.
She should have seen it coming, but somehow it was hard to take Norman “Dr. Dynamite” Griggs entirely seriously, between the ridiculous name, the outlandish costume, and his current track record. She had been chasing him for weeks, but so far he hadn’t killed anyone that she knew of. Every building he had blown up had been deserted at the time.
So, she was caught off guard when a silver metal instrument wrapped itself around her and forced her backwards. She hit the ground with a solid thump and got to her feet just in time to see, but not duck, the explosion that was now spreading right before her eyes.
-------
Logan. The name held a lifetime’s worth of meaning and yet, very little at all. He wasn’t giving it out here. This dimly lit bar just outside of a small coastal town by the name of… Blackhawk Bay, if he remembered right.
Didn’t really matter. Seemed all the places he’d visited lately blurred together. He tipped back the glass of whiskey. Before he had to even look up, the bartender placed another glass in front of him.
It was all just an attempt to drown out the memory of Asteroid M, of hurtling towards the sun with Jean by his side, of stabbing her to save her from a painful death.
In stabbing her, he’d saved her. Unleashed the Phoenix force one last time. She saved them both in that moment. She was saved.
Saved to die in Scott’s arms instead.
He downed the drink in one gulp and reached for the new one set down on the bar.
He didn’t regret his parting words to Scott. “If she hadn’t been too strong to give in to what she wanted, she would have left you years ago.”
It didn’t matter though. He’d left the X-Men. Maybe he would be back someday. Maybe there was somewhere else he’d rather be and he just hadn’t found it yet.
The leather costume hidden beneath his ordinary t-shirt and jeans served as a reminder that he hadn’t, and couldn’t, turn his back on it all. Wolverine would always be there, even if Logan stopped existing. ‘Wolverine’ had far outlived James Howlett, after all.
The bar shook as a loud explosion ripped through the air. He slammed down the glass and got to his feet. A quick look around revealed that no one had been hurt. No, the explosion had taken place a little ways from here. He looked out the window in time to see a man on a brightly colored crotch rocket fly by. A second later, a woman in a black leotard and fishnet stockings followed close behind on a serious bike. Her blonde hair trailed behind her as she pursued the man.
He hurried out to the parking lot and shed his civilian clothes. Minutes later, he found them. He arrived just in time to see the woman pin the man to the ground. Not bad, he thought.
He waited, though. Something about the scene didn’t feel right. When she was forced backwards by an odd device. He saw the man pull out a gun-like weapon and point at her before she could get to her feet.
“No,” he growled and leapt towards her as the gun fired what could only be described as a miniscule missile. It planted itself in the ground just in front of her.
He acted just as an explosion ripped through the street. He placed himself between the woman and the explosion and ignored the fire that now seared his skin. He knocked her to the ground and covered her as bits of debris flew everywhere.
She looked up at him in surprise, but before he could respond, pain ripped through him.
“Ouch,” he murmured, as his eyelids slid shut and everything faded to black.
-------
Dinah had been so intent on the explosion, that she was unsurprised to find herself face-up on the ground. She was surprised when she realized that the only part of her that hurt was her back. It stung from meeting the ground with such force. She was also surprised to discover that a heavy weight lay on top of her.
It finally registered that there was a man on top of her, and she looked up at him. She didn’t recognize the face, but she instantly felt sorry.
“What did you do?” she whispered as the man murmured ‘ouch’ and seemed to pass out.
The flames from the explosion had died down by the time she managed to slide out from under the man. She noted the yellow costume, but couldn’t place it to any hero she knew of. She tried to quell the wave of nausea at the sight of the blood and burnt flesh on his back. The smell was overpowering, but she had to act now if she had any hope of helping him.
Norman was gone before she’d struggled to her feet.
“Damn,” she muttered. Two weeks of tracking and careful detective work, just like her father had taught her, out the window. He knew that she was onto him now. She’d spooked him and clearly he’d become a caged animal, striking out when cornered. If she didn’t help the man on the ground, Norman would have claimed his first victim.
She knelt beside the man and looked into his face.
“Just hang on. I’m going to call an ambulance.”
The word seemed to bring him back to the consciousness. He struggled to a kneeling position and looked at her.
“No. I’ll be fine. Just need some time,” he muttered. “No hospitals.”
She hesitated. How he’d managed to get into a more upright position after that blast was beyond her. But if he insisted against hospitals, she would have to comply. She herself would have refused a hospital while in costume too. There was a code, after all.
It was only fortunate they were so close to her apartment.
She knelt beside the man and put an arm around his waist.
“Okay, well, I’m not going to leave you here. I’m not exactly Wonder Woman, so I can’t carry you, but if you can get to your feet, I can take you someplace safe that’s not too far away.”
“I can stand,” he said and initially tried to nudge her away. He began to get to his feet and then crumpled against her. She struggled under his weight, but said nothing.
“It will go a lot easier if we just work together,” she said.
He grunted, but allowed her to again put her arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulders. Together, they struggled to their feet.
“Okay, just lean on me and walk. It’s just down the street,” she said.
He obliged, and she was able to help him towards the flower shop, Birds and Bees. She let herself into the side door leading up to her apartment, and the two struggled up the stairs.
Once she managed to get the door open, she immediately helped her unknown savior spread out on her couch. He passed out a second time.
She thought longingly of her bike just outside. It wouldn’t take long to run down and park it safely, but he might not have that time. The man on her couch needed immediate medical attention. She was by no means a good substitute for a doctor, but her days with the Justice League had helped serve as training for advanced first aid.
She retrieved a clean washcloth from her bathroom, and a pre-mixed disinfectant solution. Iodine and disinfected water. She kept it on hand, for the rougher nights spent on patrol. She quickly rinsed a pair of tweezers with the water and then returned to her living room.
She gently peeled off the remainder of the top of his costume, and set about scrubbing the wounds and removing as much debris as she could. She finished and rinsed the wounds as best as she could, then began to wrap the bandages around him. It was difficult to do so, with the position he was in, but she worked as quickly as she could.
When she was halfway through wrapping, his hand clenched her arm. She suppressed a shriek of surprise as he twisted to look at her, not releasing his grip.
“What the hell are you doing,” he snarled.
“Just patching you up,” she responded, and then looked at him, her voice softening. “That was either a very brave or very stupid thing you did. Thank you. How are you feeling?”
He released her and sat up, a grin crossing his face. He turned and gestured to his back, which was now no longer covered with burns and angry red cuts. The skin was pink and reforming before her very eyes.
“I haven’t even introduced myself, and already you’re trying to get my shirt off,” he joked with an easy smile.
She glared at him, but he just chuckled and held out his hand.
“Wolverine.”
She took the extended hand and squeezed gently.
“Black Canary. You’re not a new League recruit, sent to check up on me, are you? Because I’m fine, and that’s what I told the last new recruit sent my way too.”
“A what recruit? I don’t bowl,” he said. “And if you say you’re fine, I’m sure you are.”
She eyed him suspiciously. Was he trying to be funny?
“Fine then. What are you doing in Blackhawk Bay then?”
He shrugged.
“Just passing through. I stopped for a drink or two and next thing I know, some nut is blowing up the streets. Figures, though. I’m surprised it took this long for trouble to find me. Except for that incident in Vancouver, things’ve been pretty quiet since I took off.”
“What incident?”
“Earthquake of some sort. Woke up a few hours later, judging by the sun light. Couldn’t find the slightest bit of evidence of the quake, but I know what I felt.”
He stood then, and looked at her.
“Look, we could stand here all night or we could track down our bomber. I’m ready to go if you are.
She looked at him in surprise.
“Are you sure you’re up for it?”
He grinned again.
“I’m up for anything you can throw at me, lady.”
-------
They headed down to their bikes. Logan pulled a t-shirt out of the pack on the back of his and nodded to the blonde.
“Nice bike,” he complimented her.
“Thanks. I built it by hand.” Her fingers caressed the bike lovingly, and he felt a surge of admiration at the passion she showed for it.
They took off, and he allowed her to take the lead. It was odd to be working in tandem with someone. Funny how he always seemed to fall into teamwork, despite a desire to work alone.
She’d handed him a tiny earpiece for communication. He accepted it, and took advantage of it as they sped down the highway.
“What’s the deal with this guy we’re chasing anyway?”
“He’s a technopath. He can create just about anything with the most basic wiring and metal materials. For some reason, he’s decided to use his ability to find more efficient ways to blow things up.”
“Sounds like someone who needs to be off the streets.”
She was silent so long that he wasn’t sure if his transmission had gone through. Then her voice whispered in his ears.
“He’s someone who needs help. He’s not in his right mind, but with the right help maybe he could do something good with his ability.”
“He tried to kill you, and you want to rehabilitate him? Are you always this optimistic?”
The silence lasted longer this time.
“No. Not always. But I believe that sometimes, people can change.”
This time, he was the one who fell silent. She pulled her bike to a stop in front of a old Victorian house at the end of a dead end road. He pulled up beside her.
“This is it,” she said and moved towards the house.
“Wait.” Something was in the air. He sniffed again. The same chemicals that he had smelled just before he’d knocked her out of the way of that explosion greeted his nose.
She seemed to sense that something was off too. She backed away slowly. But it was too late. A loud boom ripped through the air. He pulled her down and tried to shield her from the blast.
As soon as the blast died down, a voice filled the air.
“Leave me alone, or I’ll be forced to hurt you, Black Canary. It would have gone smoothly if you had just kept your nose out of my business.”
Wolverine looked around for the source of the voice, but there was no scent of another person on the air. Finally, his gaze settled on a small circular object on the ground. The Black Canary had already bent over to retrieve it. She turned it over to reveal a speaker, though it didn’t resemble any other playback device Logan had seen.
“He thinks he’s killed you.” She looked up at him, and he felt a twinge at the look of regret in her eyes.
“I forced his hand, and now he thinks he’s crossed a line that he avoided until now.”
“Well, we’ll just have to track him down then.”
“But not tonight,” she said. “I’ve pushed things too far tonight. Even if I knew where to look, if we went after him, someone could end up hurt.”
“So you propose we just wait it out?” He helped her to her feet and looked down at her in annoyance. He wasn’t exactly a wait-and-see type.
“Not exactly. We just need to give it a few days. He won’t strike again right away, and that will give me time to figure out the best way to approach him. No one said you’d have to wait around, if you have somewhere you’d rather be.”
He looked at her for a moment and then shook his head.
“Nowhere I can think of at the moment.”
“You have a place to stay for the night?” she asked, then colored slightly. “I mean, the least I can do after you saved my life is let you sleep on my couch.”
He shrugged.
“Can’t say no to such a tempting offer, can I?”
She laughed and then hopped on her bike. He was surprised to find that he was glad to follow.
Author: Kelly
Prompt: Black Canary(Dinah Lance)/Wolverine(Logan), Costumes
Rating: PG
Word count: 2940
Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'll give them back when I'm done, I promise!
Warnings: (if any)
Author's notes: (if any) So I have been kicking around the idea of this in my head for awhile, but only just wrote this today. I have other parts in mind and hopefully will get to expanding the story. This was pretty difficult, as I have never written either character, so I apologize if I wasn't as true to the characters as a better-qualified writer would have been.
Also, takes place a year after Oliver Queen's death, so after the events of the longbow hunters, and after Jean Grey's most recent death at the hands of Xorn/Magneto and is not completely true to any timeline of events. But it's a crossover so what do you expect? :)
Martian Manhunter once suggested that the brunette Dinah Lance was the costume, and that Black Canary, the 'blonde bombshell' crimefighter was her true self.
Dinah had yet to make up her mind about that.
Truth be told, there was very little time to decide which was really her while juggling her two lives.
Tonight, as she raced down the highway on her motorcycle, her mind wandered for only a moment to this question. It was hard lately to understand where her troubles ended and she began, let alone to straighten out her two identities.
She did know that she’d like to meet whoever had said ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved it all’ and personally kick their ass. She’d loved, all right. And she’d lost, big time. Given the choice, she thought she would rather take it all back. She'd lost more than just Ollie though.
Her vocal chords burned at the thought of all that had deserted her over the past few years.
An explosion rocked the street in front of her. She slid to a stop, just short of her target. He was a thin man in his late forties, and would have been unremarkable were it not for the black pleather suit with a vibrant flame design.
She hopped off her bike and approached the man.
“When you left the house this morning, was that really the best wardrobe choice available?” she asked.
A second later, she dove to the ground as a miniature missile whizzed overhead. It impacted the building behind her. She swore under her breath. This was getting too messy. The only good here was that the only residence on this block was above a florist shop, and she knew for a fact that was empty at the moment. All the other buildings were closed.
She flipped into the man and pinned him to the ground.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Norman, but you’re going to have to stop causing property damage here or I will be forced to.”
“I’ve already told you,” the man replied, “It’s Dr. Dynamite! Norman Griggs is a nobody. I’m a somebody!”
Dinah shook her head and continued to hold the man down. It was only a matter of time before the police showed up, with all the noise they’d made. She was sure they’d be all too happy to take Norman into custody.
Norman had once been the lead developer at an NixTek, a local engineering firm. Dinah wasn’t quite sure when or how it happened, but his technological prowess had taken the next step and the man had become a full fledged technopath. With even the smallest of components, he could build just about anything he could imagine.
Why a technopath would waste his time trying to blow things up when he could be doing something useful for the world was beyond her. It seemed a lot of talent went to waste when the possessors of said talent stopped playing with a full deck.
“Dr. Dynamite? I think you should stick with Norman,” she said. He finally stopped struggling and relaxed under her hold.
She should have seen it coming, but somehow it was hard to take Norman “Dr. Dynamite” Griggs entirely seriously, between the ridiculous name, the outlandish costume, and his current track record. She had been chasing him for weeks, but so far he hadn’t killed anyone that she knew of. Every building he had blown up had been deserted at the time.
So, she was caught off guard when a silver metal instrument wrapped itself around her and forced her backwards. She hit the ground with a solid thump and got to her feet just in time to see, but not duck, the explosion that was now spreading right before her eyes.
-------
Logan. The name held a lifetime’s worth of meaning and yet, very little at all. He wasn’t giving it out here. This dimly lit bar just outside of a small coastal town by the name of… Blackhawk Bay, if he remembered right.
Didn’t really matter. Seemed all the places he’d visited lately blurred together. He tipped back the glass of whiskey. Before he had to even look up, the bartender placed another glass in front of him.
It was all just an attempt to drown out the memory of Asteroid M, of hurtling towards the sun with Jean by his side, of stabbing her to save her from a painful death.
In stabbing her, he’d saved her. Unleashed the Phoenix force one last time. She saved them both in that moment. She was saved.
Saved to die in Scott’s arms instead.
He downed the drink in one gulp and reached for the new one set down on the bar.
He didn’t regret his parting words to Scott. “If she hadn’t been too strong to give in to what she wanted, she would have left you years ago.”
It didn’t matter though. He’d left the X-Men. Maybe he would be back someday. Maybe there was somewhere else he’d rather be and he just hadn’t found it yet.
The leather costume hidden beneath his ordinary t-shirt and jeans served as a reminder that he hadn’t, and couldn’t, turn his back on it all. Wolverine would always be there, even if Logan stopped existing. ‘Wolverine’ had far outlived James Howlett, after all.
The bar shook as a loud explosion ripped through the air. He slammed down the glass and got to his feet. A quick look around revealed that no one had been hurt. No, the explosion had taken place a little ways from here. He looked out the window in time to see a man on a brightly colored crotch rocket fly by. A second later, a woman in a black leotard and fishnet stockings followed close behind on a serious bike. Her blonde hair trailed behind her as she pursued the man.
He hurried out to the parking lot and shed his civilian clothes. Minutes later, he found them. He arrived just in time to see the woman pin the man to the ground. Not bad, he thought.
He waited, though. Something about the scene didn’t feel right. When she was forced backwards by an odd device. He saw the man pull out a gun-like weapon and point at her before she could get to her feet.
“No,” he growled and leapt towards her as the gun fired what could only be described as a miniscule missile. It planted itself in the ground just in front of her.
He acted just as an explosion ripped through the street. He placed himself between the woman and the explosion and ignored the fire that now seared his skin. He knocked her to the ground and covered her as bits of debris flew everywhere.
She looked up at him in surprise, but before he could respond, pain ripped through him.
“Ouch,” he murmured, as his eyelids slid shut and everything faded to black.
-------
Dinah had been so intent on the explosion, that she was unsurprised to find herself face-up on the ground. She was surprised when she realized that the only part of her that hurt was her back. It stung from meeting the ground with such force. She was also surprised to discover that a heavy weight lay on top of her.
It finally registered that there was a man on top of her, and she looked up at him. She didn’t recognize the face, but she instantly felt sorry.
“What did you do?” she whispered as the man murmured ‘ouch’ and seemed to pass out.
The flames from the explosion had died down by the time she managed to slide out from under the man. She noted the yellow costume, but couldn’t place it to any hero she knew of. She tried to quell the wave of nausea at the sight of the blood and burnt flesh on his back. The smell was overpowering, but she had to act now if she had any hope of helping him.
Norman was gone before she’d struggled to her feet.
“Damn,” she muttered. Two weeks of tracking and careful detective work, just like her father had taught her, out the window. He knew that she was onto him now. She’d spooked him and clearly he’d become a caged animal, striking out when cornered. If she didn’t help the man on the ground, Norman would have claimed his first victim.
She knelt beside the man and looked into his face.
“Just hang on. I’m going to call an ambulance.”
The word seemed to bring him back to the consciousness. He struggled to a kneeling position and looked at her.
“No. I’ll be fine. Just need some time,” he muttered. “No hospitals.”
She hesitated. How he’d managed to get into a more upright position after that blast was beyond her. But if he insisted against hospitals, she would have to comply. She herself would have refused a hospital while in costume too. There was a code, after all.
It was only fortunate they were so close to her apartment.
She knelt beside the man and put an arm around his waist.
“Okay, well, I’m not going to leave you here. I’m not exactly Wonder Woman, so I can’t carry you, but if you can get to your feet, I can take you someplace safe that’s not too far away.”
“I can stand,” he said and initially tried to nudge her away. He began to get to his feet and then crumpled against her. She struggled under his weight, but said nothing.
“It will go a lot easier if we just work together,” she said.
He grunted, but allowed her to again put her arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulders. Together, they struggled to their feet.
“Okay, just lean on me and walk. It’s just down the street,” she said.
He obliged, and she was able to help him towards the flower shop, Birds and Bees. She let herself into the side door leading up to her apartment, and the two struggled up the stairs.
Once she managed to get the door open, she immediately helped her unknown savior spread out on her couch. He passed out a second time.
She thought longingly of her bike just outside. It wouldn’t take long to run down and park it safely, but he might not have that time. The man on her couch needed immediate medical attention. She was by no means a good substitute for a doctor, but her days with the Justice League had helped serve as training for advanced first aid.
She retrieved a clean washcloth from her bathroom, and a pre-mixed disinfectant solution. Iodine and disinfected water. She kept it on hand, for the rougher nights spent on patrol. She quickly rinsed a pair of tweezers with the water and then returned to her living room.
She gently peeled off the remainder of the top of his costume, and set about scrubbing the wounds and removing as much debris as she could. She finished and rinsed the wounds as best as she could, then began to wrap the bandages around him. It was difficult to do so, with the position he was in, but she worked as quickly as she could.
When she was halfway through wrapping, his hand clenched her arm. She suppressed a shriek of surprise as he twisted to look at her, not releasing his grip.
“What the hell are you doing,” he snarled.
“Just patching you up,” she responded, and then looked at him, her voice softening. “That was either a very brave or very stupid thing you did. Thank you. How are you feeling?”
He released her and sat up, a grin crossing his face. He turned and gestured to his back, which was now no longer covered with burns and angry red cuts. The skin was pink and reforming before her very eyes.
“I haven’t even introduced myself, and already you’re trying to get my shirt off,” he joked with an easy smile.
She glared at him, but he just chuckled and held out his hand.
“Wolverine.”
She took the extended hand and squeezed gently.
“Black Canary. You’re not a new League recruit, sent to check up on me, are you? Because I’m fine, and that’s what I told the last new recruit sent my way too.”
“A what recruit? I don’t bowl,” he said. “And if you say you’re fine, I’m sure you are.”
She eyed him suspiciously. Was he trying to be funny?
“Fine then. What are you doing in Blackhawk Bay then?”
He shrugged.
“Just passing through. I stopped for a drink or two and next thing I know, some nut is blowing up the streets. Figures, though. I’m surprised it took this long for trouble to find me. Except for that incident in Vancouver, things’ve been pretty quiet since I took off.”
“What incident?”
“Earthquake of some sort. Woke up a few hours later, judging by the sun light. Couldn’t find the slightest bit of evidence of the quake, but I know what I felt.”
He stood then, and looked at her.
“Look, we could stand here all night or we could track down our bomber. I’m ready to go if you are.
She looked at him in surprise.
“Are you sure you’re up for it?”
He grinned again.
“I’m up for anything you can throw at me, lady.”
-------
They headed down to their bikes. Logan pulled a t-shirt out of the pack on the back of his and nodded to the blonde.
“Nice bike,” he complimented her.
“Thanks. I built it by hand.” Her fingers caressed the bike lovingly, and he felt a surge of admiration at the passion she showed for it.
They took off, and he allowed her to take the lead. It was odd to be working in tandem with someone. Funny how he always seemed to fall into teamwork, despite a desire to work alone.
She’d handed him a tiny earpiece for communication. He accepted it, and took advantage of it as they sped down the highway.
“What’s the deal with this guy we’re chasing anyway?”
“He’s a technopath. He can create just about anything with the most basic wiring and metal materials. For some reason, he’s decided to use his ability to find more efficient ways to blow things up.”
“Sounds like someone who needs to be off the streets.”
She was silent so long that he wasn’t sure if his transmission had gone through. Then her voice whispered in his ears.
“He’s someone who needs help. He’s not in his right mind, but with the right help maybe he could do something good with his ability.”
“He tried to kill you, and you want to rehabilitate him? Are you always this optimistic?”
The silence lasted longer this time.
“No. Not always. But I believe that sometimes, people can change.”
This time, he was the one who fell silent. She pulled her bike to a stop in front of a old Victorian house at the end of a dead end road. He pulled up beside her.
“This is it,” she said and moved towards the house.
“Wait.” Something was in the air. He sniffed again. The same chemicals that he had smelled just before he’d knocked her out of the way of that explosion greeted his nose.
She seemed to sense that something was off too. She backed away slowly. But it was too late. A loud boom ripped through the air. He pulled her down and tried to shield her from the blast.
As soon as the blast died down, a voice filled the air.
“Leave me alone, or I’ll be forced to hurt you, Black Canary. It would have gone smoothly if you had just kept your nose out of my business.”
Wolverine looked around for the source of the voice, but there was no scent of another person on the air. Finally, his gaze settled on a small circular object on the ground. The Black Canary had already bent over to retrieve it. She turned it over to reveal a speaker, though it didn’t resemble any other playback device Logan had seen.
“He thinks he’s killed you.” She looked up at him, and he felt a twinge at the look of regret in her eyes.
“I forced his hand, and now he thinks he’s crossed a line that he avoided until now.”
“Well, we’ll just have to track him down then.”
“But not tonight,” she said. “I’ve pushed things too far tonight. Even if I knew where to look, if we went after him, someone could end up hurt.”
“So you propose we just wait it out?” He helped her to her feet and looked down at her in annoyance. He wasn’t exactly a wait-and-see type.
“Not exactly. We just need to give it a few days. He won’t strike again right away, and that will give me time to figure out the best way to approach him. No one said you’d have to wait around, if you have somewhere you’d rather be.”
He looked at her for a moment and then shook his head.
“Nowhere I can think of at the moment.”
“You have a place to stay for the night?” she asked, then colored slightly. “I mean, the least I can do after you saved my life is let you sleep on my couch.”
He shrugged.
“Can’t say no to such a tempting offer, can I?”
She laughed and then hopped on her bike. He was surprised to find that he was glad to follow.