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11 November 2007 @ 01:06 am
The Babysitter  
The Babysitter

X Men fanfiction
Originally written 01/06/06 
Rating: PG

Summary: Why "black leather does not constitute a date" and Logan has 'fun' babysitting.  Much amusement is had by the Professor.

Author Note: When I wrote this I hadn't yet seen the third film and I was wondering if Logan would ever be asked to babysit again.  This is an AU, set sometime after Stryker attacking the mansion in X2, but with Jean still alive.

Disclaimer: The X Men franchise belongs to Marvel and Fox. If I ever earn enough to buy them I’ll make sure you know about it. ;o) Shrek is mentioned, which has nothing to do with me, and Shostakovich’s Symphony number 5 belongs to Shostakovich, surprising as that may be.

The Babysitter

Everything is funny as long as it is happening to Somebody Else.”- Will Rogers

Beast: "Sometimes, Bobby, I wonder if puberty will ever end for you."
Warren: "Or start."

- Uncanny X-Men 356

“Why can’t the Professor do it?”

Scott was pleading now. Personally Jean thought it sounded more like whining.

“As good as telepathy is for threatening teenagers into behaving, why should he have to run around after a bunch of kids on a Friday night?”


“She’s ill, or maybe you haven’t noticed that your fiancé’s been covering her history class!”

“Kurt? Warren? Hank?”

“We’re not getting someone to travel all the way back here just to babysit for one measly Friday night.”

“But - “

“Oh come on Scott! It’s just babysitting!”

“Yeah? The last time Logan took care of the kids half of them ended up in Alaska and the mansion was practically destroyed!”

“It was hardly half of the kids Scott – “

“Jean!” She watched as his face began to turn an interesting shade of red, almost matching his shades.

“ – and you were taking care of the Professor at the time, which also didn’t seem to go all that well - "

Jean!” The fearless leader was looking practically apoplectic now.

“Look, we’ve not been out in ages, and I mean ages, without wearing black leather. Black leather does not constitute a date Scott Summers!”

The leader of the X Men wisely refrained from giving his views on black leather. There had been enough of an uproar over the team being known as the X Men. He shuddered. No, they didn’t need another incident like that.

And so Jean explained exactly what did constitute a date, aka what they would be doing on Friday night, and he nodded in all the right places.


Logan growled. So he wasn’t exactly excited at the prospect – who would be?

“They’re kids Logan. Sit back and just have fun, alright?”

“Fun?” Logan eyed Jean, hands on her hips and glaring at him.

“Look at it this way – having you as a babysitter is annoying the hell out of Scott. Is that fun enough for you?”

Now that he couldn’t really argue with.


Scott stood in the entrance hall leaning against a wall, but carefully so as not to crease his suit. He’d been told to make an effort, and wary of Jean’s temper, especially after the black leather comment, he’d ended up wearing the smartest clothes he owned, bar the tux. He winced. The tux only ever made an appearance when it was the school’s reputation he was upholding, at the fancy evenings he was forced to attend in his position as Assistant Head teacher, making polite conversation with people whose opinions he really couldn’t care less about.

“She keeping you waiting?” Logan asked with a grin. He’d been on his way to the kitchen, but tormenting the Fearless Leader was always worth a detour.

“Not for too long I hope,” Jean chimed in, descending the stairs.

She was beautiful, Scott thought. There was no other word for it, and no, she couldn’t have looked better even in black leather. The red dress matched her hair perfectly in his eyes and that slit up the side was certainly…interesting. “It was well worth the wait.”

She smiled. God, he loved it when she smiled.

“Mista Logan! We found it!” A gaggle of the younger kids bounded up the Wolverine, the foremost shoving a DVD at him.

Scott took laid Jean’s hand on his arm and turned towards the garage. “Have a good night,” he told the babysitter with a grin.


In a suite upstairs Shostakovich’s Symphony number 5 was playing and a small tumbler of scotch was set on the coffee table in front of the fire, lit for the atmosphere as much as for the warmth.

Charles Xavier frowned as squeals of sugar-induced excitement reached his ears. From what he could make out there was some kind of prank war going on.

A remote control was lifted and the music faded.

“I told you kid, stop spreading that stuff on the floor! Hey! And YOU! Don’t even think about freezing it Iceboy!”

A thump-crash, rather like a man with an adamantium-laced skeleton slipping and landing on the floor. More squealing. A growl.

Charles leant back and smiled. Sure, he could have listened in telepathically, but this way was far more entertaining.

The sound effects were better.


It was the morning after the night before and although Scott thought last night was definitely worth another Logan-as-babysitter-and-mansion-being-destroyed fiasco he was still a bit…worried…about how quiet the mansion was.

“What happened? Did anything happen?”

“Jubilee became hyperactive after eating copious amounts of sugar, as did a lot of the younger children, the floor boards near the kitchen are damp courtesy of Bobby and some ice, Theresa broke a window by screaming when Jamie pulled yet another prank on the poor girl, some of the vodka is missing from the staff secured cupboard, which I suspect Kitty had something to do with, and the Recreation Room has a new collection of torn cushions and stains.”

Scott breathed a sigh of relief. “A normal Friday night then.”

The Professor smiled to himself. “I look forward to you informing Logan of that fact.”


“Never again Jeanie, y’hear me?” Logan growled at her over the breakfast table.

“It can’t have been that bad.”

“Oh, it was that bad darlin’. It was that bad and then some. I had to watch some ‘feel good’ crap about an ogre an’ a talking donkey, and the ogre didn’t even get the babe in the end ‘cause she turned into a bloody ogre too… Anyway, they bloody attacked me! And I don’t just mean the little brats who are too young to even know the meaning of ‘suicidal’ but the whole goddamn lot of ‘em!”

The Rant (and it deserved the capital letter) continued and Jean smirked, but only in her head. Sometimes there were advantages to being a telepath.

“Well, I had a wonderful time, thank you for asking.”

Logan eyed her smug grin. “Even with Scooter you couldn’t have had a worse night than me.”

The womanly grin grew even wider, if that were possible. “My night involved a romantic meal, a moonlit walk and wonderful conversation with the love of my life. There were ‘bedroom activities’ in there too. Trust me, it couldn’t have been better.”

The Wolverine raised an eyebrow. “What, he even had you wear the black leather?”


“A normal Friday night?”

“Yes Logan. As in ‘what happens when the mansion ISN’T attacked and the babysitter DOESN’T go berserk.’”

“A normal Friday night?”

“Yes, I did hear you the first time.”


Scott eyed the adamantium claws, then looked up to see the black leather strips super glued to Logan’s sideburns. He suspected they’d had telekinetic aid in getting there. He also suspected that it’d be an interesting process getting them off.

“You haven’t been mentioning black leather around Jean by any chance have you?”

Logan gave him the Glare of Death. “Are you gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?”

“After you mentioned black leather?” Scott snorted. “You’d be suicidal not to…so by all means, go ahead.”

feeling: awakeawake