He has thing for waifs. Common knowledge. And while there’s a lot of things he doesn’t know about himself that isn’t one of them. He know’s alright. So when he saw her in the bar hustling beers and god knows what else out of dreary middle-aged bikers he knew she was gonna end up causing him trouble. The sad thing was he didn’t really care.
He watched her, whole night long.Not obviously. Not so most anyone would notice. She was a good little hustler. Young, too young to be doing this, too young to be in the bar in the first place. But he doesn’t speak to her, doesn’t make eye contact, doesn’t offer her a drink; just because he likes trouble doesn’t mean he always goes looking for it.
So when she leaves around 4am there’s a part of him thats disappointed. Then a minute later there’s a kerfuffle in the parking lot. She’s in trouble and part of being one of the good guys is that sometimes you have to be one of the good guys. ‘Sides how long does it take for him to beat up a mugger?
And he purposefully doesn’t think about what happens afterwards. With another scared teenage girl he has to be father too again. It seems like everytime one of them out grows him he gets another. Like some sort of trade-in scheme. He doesn’t think about that at all.
He’s in the parking lot before he realises that its not a mugger. 5 guys with funky faces. And she’s got a grace to her. She’s fought before. A lot. Too much. He wades in claws and ire raised.
And they’re strong. Stupid annoying strong. And stabbing them and cutting them doesn’t do much good. She’s busy, not paying much attention. But she sees his confusion and shouts “Vampires.”
His face must have been yelling out because she rolls her eyes and continues, breathless and distracted “they’re vampires. You know, Dracula, well except not Dracula because I’ve met him but people allergic to sunlight who love O+ in their wheaties.”
He does, unusually, deal with weirder shit than this most days of the week. He thinks about what he knows about vampires. “We’ve got to kill them with garlic?”
“More like stake them with point wood things. Or burn them. Or chop their heads off. Or you could..”
She trails of. Adamantium claw most definitely beats vampire neck. The parking lot is silent.
“So giant sharp claw things coming out your hand. Demon? What kinda demon? A nice kind? Or did you just save my life so you could eviscerate me yourself? Because I’m not pro-evisceration and I have a number of powerful friends who admittedly I’m not speaking to right now who would make you extremely dead if you gut me. Or skin me. Or use my blood to open an portal to a hell dimension. Extremely dead.”
*snick* With the claws back in she stops babbling. They don't say anything. He waits. Feels like maybe he could wait forever. But it’s nearly morning and he’s standing in a parking lot. There’s a bed he could be in back at the mansion and there’s a diner down the road where he could grab some breakfast in an hour or two.
“Suns coming up.”
She looks at him. A long look. Then she looks at the brightening sky.
“Dawn” she says.
“That’s what I said.”
“No, that’s my name; Dawn.”
He can smell the power in her and her blood opens portals. Mutant for sure. He wonders what Dawn signifies, what her abilities might be.
But all he does is nod curtly. “Logan. Let’s go get some coffee.”