Chapter Text
Quiet giggles from the gallery, followed by another joke. Of course. It was funny.
So funny.
Logan thought about fighting it again, but that would just make it worse. This was the best plan, with a suitable workaround.
One team had to keep an eye on the military weaponry that was being gathered, while the other team infiltrated the organization's inner circle to gather intel about the whos and wheres of its deployment. So, naturally, send the people who are good at sneaking to go spy, and send the people who are good at stopping missiles and giant robots to stop the missiles and giant robots.
Cyclops, Nightcrawler, Kitty Pryde, and Wolverine would be headed into a series of high-end dinner parties to find out whatever they could. Logan argued against it, saying that he tended to come in handy when you needed someone indestructible, and Scott made the salient point that they could throw him at as many explosives as they wanted, but there was fuck all he could do to stop them once he was in pieces. Best leave them to the people who could halt a missile in place with their minds.
So the four of them would go in together. Great, except for the fact that this was a classical affair, conservative. Attended by almost exclusively heterosexual couples.
“See? Not so hard.” said Kurt from across the room, swaying along easily with Kitty. Logan could see them dancing in the mirror that took up the entire wall.
“Nobody knows how to do dances with steps anymore. We're not going to stand out if we don't do it.” Kitty insisted.
Kitty, as the only woman coming with the group, had the pick of who she wanted to go in a pair with. Kurt was the no-brainer, he could joke and dance with her as a friend and not raise any eyebrows, whereas Scott or Logan couldn't even stand next to her in formal wear without looking like a chaperone at prom. As it stood, they were planning on Kurt introducing her as his younger sister or niece instead of as a partner. All three of them had been her childhood mentors, so it was safer to go with a more comfortable dynamic.
“Nothing wrong with being prepared, ja?” Kurt responded, suddenly twirling her. She went along with it, reluctantly smiling.
The stick was with Scott and Logan. If they were supposed to be blending in among anti-mutant conservatives, showing up as a same-sex couple was playing with fire, and they were already using the family excuse with the other two. It was Kurt that Logan had to blame for the solution: one of them could also use an image inducer like Kurt planned to, except to look like a woman.
They decided to flip a coin for it, but Logan knew he was cooked before it was in the air. He was deeply familiar with the type of luck he had.
He stepped on Scott’s toes.
“Head in the game, Logan.” Scott chided as he led Logan along, one hand holding his, the other on his lower back. “You'll have to do this in heels next time.”
It was a joke at Logan’s expense, even if he didn't say it like it was. Scott didn't say anything like a joke, that way if you called him out on it, he could deny it. But he put the stress in the right places, and stared head-on at Logan with that fucking look on his face. The one that was completely straight with his eyebrows ever-so-slightly raised by a millimeter. Logan just knew he was busting up inside.
Logan didn't really need to practice dancing with someone else as a lead, but he was cajoled into “learning”, and now couldn't remember for the life of him why he went along with it. His stumble had more to do with the authoritative way Scott pulled him along than lack of ability, less like they were sharing a dance and more like he was dragging Logan through the motions.
“Give him a dip!” jeered Magik from the sidelines of the dance room. “Maybe that will loosen him up.”
“Woo!” Gambit agreed. “Dip the man!”
Storm and Iceman joined in, chanting, “Dip! Dip! Dip!”
That was Logan's limit, it turned out. He ripped himself away from Scott and stormed to the door, past their hecklers.
Gambit walked his way like he was going to cut him off. “Come on, lighten up, mon vieux. It was just a joke–”
But Logan shouldered past, and stomped outside for some fresh air to calm down. After all, the angrier he acted, the more it would spur them on. He inhaled deeply and put the incident out of his head, focusing instead on the scent of fresh-cut grass.
He had no intention of telling anyone what was going on. He would let them think he was some macho guy who was embarrassed by the Girl Stuff, and then when this whole thing was done, they'd forget and move on. There were only two events: the soirée, and the garden party, within a week of each other. He could do that.
He sat on the steps and massaged his face. Logan didn't think this would bother him so much, he was honestly shocked. He thought he wouldn't care. In fact, he might have thought it was kinda funny too, if it weren't for everyone treating it like the most entertaining thing to happen this decade. If it were Kurt who had to disguise himself as an upperclass lady, he'd be laughing alongside everyone at the dramatic change. If it were Scott, people would think it was exciting and he'd maybe catch a couple jokes, but it wouldn't be a bigger deal than that.
He didn't think even half of them found the idea of a man in a dress funny. They definitely weren't bigots in that sort of way, at least half of ‘em were some color of the rainbow themselves. If one of the guys were to start wearing feminine clothes and tell everyone to start calling them a woman, some people would probably have their own feelings to work out about it, but as a group, they'd do their best.
No, it was funny because it was Logan. Logan in a dress. Logan getting his makeup done. Logan the tough old guy who wore the same work clothes every day, who would have to remember to sit with his legs closed and stop picking his teeth and retrain himself not to “walk like a cowboy,” as Rogue put it. They weren't trying to be cruel– it was that Logan's usual attitude was almost begging for it. The Wolverine, embarrassed. It was a rare opportunity, bringing out the schoolkids-pranking-their-teacher spirit in everyone.
Logan sighed and buried his face in his hands, rubbing it forcefully. Even if no one meant it maliciously, that didn't mean it didn't still have its impact. If he just told them the truth and cleared the air, would they laugh? What would they do? He didn't know, and that was the problem. He didn't know.
He decided to take a stroll to work some of his energy out, stopping to ponder the flowers that had come into season and feed the fish in the pond. It was nice out, he would rather think about that.
It was going to be okay. He just had to not let it get to him, roll with the jokes, and get the job done. Come time to get to work, nobody would be thinking about the woman in heels who was secretly a hairy buff guy.
After he refreshed his attitude, he made his way back, and got a call from Beast once he was almost to the door.
“Hello. Will you come by the lab? I've calibrated the image inducer to your measurements and need to do some fine-tuning.” Hank said distractedly, the faint sound of something clicking in the background. Logan had never seen him in the lab and not multitasking.
“Sure–”
The word was barely out of his mouth before Hank hung up. Logan gave a single chuckle at him, then made his way down, apprehension rising like steam under his skin.
When he opened the door to Hank's lair, the furball was bustling around back and forth and a full-body mirror had been brought over by the workbench.
Logan pointed at it. “That for me?”
“Yes, I figured you should look over the results with me to make sure it looks right. I'm used to setting them up for Kurt.” he finally came to a stop in front of the table, and picked up the device disguised as a wristwatch to hold it up. “Come.”
Logan obliged, sticking his arm out for Hank to fasten it on. As he did, he very briefly gave Logan's face a subtle once-over. His discomfort must have been visible.
Familiar with the image inducer from seeing Kurt operate it, Logan clicked it on. Before his eyes, a shimmer warbled the air and his arms weren't his anymore. They were smooth and hairless, his fingers slightly narrower, his nails clean and maintained. He ran a hand over his skin, feeling the thick hair there despite the illusion.
“Sorry.” said Hank, slightly amused while still being apologetic, “I went ahead and shaved you. Body hair is a bit risqué for this crowd, and I know yours grows back in a matter of minutes.” Logan looked up at him from tightening the wristband to see him straightening his glasses sheepishly. “But if you feel strongly about it, I can change it back, of course.”
“No, it's fine, you had the right idea.” Logan grumbled, trying to sound less unhappy than he was.
Time to bite the bullet, I guess. Logan took a deep breath, refusing to look down at his body, and steeled himself mentally to look in the mirror behind him. He wasn't exactly sure what to expect, whether it would look mostly like him or nothing like him at all. He wasn't sure which would be better.
Then he turned around, and saw a ghost.