Work Text:
Ain’t Nothing Like Gumbo
by Tarchannon
The sound of rain and flash of lightning drew Logan to the window. Arms folded, he leaned against the framing, standing next to his old friend. Silently they watched, absorbed in their own thoughts.
“God, I miss her,” Cyclops confided. “It’s like a piece of me is missing.”
Logan replied, “Mmmmm hmmmm.”
Scott looked up at him, confused. The silence grew uncomfortable; he checked his watch.
“Class,” Scott told him as he got up to leave.
“Yeah,” Logan whispered, “ain’t nothing like Gumbo.”
Scott glanced back, shocked.
Logan stared unblinking into the storm, the gray sky reflected in his eyes.
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