19XX, July 14th

"You could stand to lose a lot more than just a few pounds, man."

The number of times he'd heard that he'd want to commit suicide out of sheer boredom. 

He'd crushed a few walnuts in his hand and thrown some into his waiting mouth as he looked around the bar that continued to seem as if it were insulting him with its silence. 

"I could stand to be happier as well, but hey, this is the way we do shit. Wait for Charles and see what else bothers me besides, well, other things."

James took hold of a bottle of some shit. Hmm, what the fuck was Crown & Cork?

Whatever it was, he guessed it'd made sense to drink it. As long as it'd get him somewhat buzzed, he hadn't needed anything else to linger on from the last job. 

"You could stand to stop being such an ass, man. It'd be better if you worked with the group and not, you know, as a lone wolf like you're some sort of superhero. That shit stinks; we're not some sort of oppressed group. Fuck's sake."

Yup, Scott was a bummer, but what was James going to do when he was the one paying for this night out, say no? Fuck that shit. 

"Right, okay. Look, Scott, can I please just get drunk? I don't want to worry about anything else, not even, you know, Jean, Ororo, or anything or anyone else. We did the job, they went home, and we came here. Why can't you, I don't know, be normal?" 

James grumbled as he untightened the seal with a single snap of his wrists as he poured Scott a glass and took the rest of the bottle for himself when Scott seemed to just stare at the side of his face.

"Gee. I don't know; maybe it's to do with the $5,000,000 worth of coke sitting in your car right now that we need to drive to California or, gee, maybe the fact that we robbed Miguel of that coke and you've been acting like we haven't been sitting in his fucking turf for two hours!" 

Gee, Scott should have relaxed, maybe found a woman or something, because this couldn't have been the reason why he seemed so out of sorts. Honestly, it was pretty, he didn't know, and boring. 

It tasted like some sort of regret, eugh!

Maybe it was the booze, Crown & Cork, seriously? He needed to find whoever made it and give them what for because it just tasted off; maybe he should visit this...oh, it was made in Philadelphia; that made sense. 

The place was godawful besides the casinos.

"Are they here?" James spoke with all seriousness, his eyes sharper than usual as he pulled up his cowl over his face as if it'd shroud him. 

Yellow was a nice colour, honestly, better than the all black that Xavier had them wear from time to time; that shit sucked for jobs like this one. 

"No. Luckily they seem to think it was the Brotherhood, but we know Erik won't exactly be...kind to this sort of deal. He wanted to push his agenda, and many of us, especially Ororo, wouldn't like his entire plan." Scott lifted his glass to that as James did the same with the bottle before the two slipped into some sort of calm. 

It wasn't every day that you were sent on a job to disrupt the business arrangement between supremacists and drug dealers; surprisingly, rules were bendable. 

"Then sit back, relax, for fuck's sake. It'll be an easy drive, and if not, well, what's going to happen that makes it worse, huh? You need to come to terms with the idea that we aren't exactly the good guys either, Summers." James grumbled again as he chugged the whisky...

Seriously, what was in this? 

Maybe he'd have a better time if he could get drunk faster or whatever the fuck Charles had given him before.

"Who said anything about good guys? I'm trying to make money to buy a place with Jean, Howlett." At that, James tensed slightly, his eyes wobbled before he looked straight ahead, and he fished around in his pockets for a few smokes.

Maybe he should have picked up a few from those goons on the corner; he would have picked him up a few if he had to listen to his ex and her boyfriend plan a life together. 

Yuup, maybe he should have taken someone else; maybe Hank would have been best. His odd skin already made people question his life choices, but then he'd have someone to ramble on about the betterments of his life choices...

Eugh, why was everyone so needy to do some bullshit? It didn't matter in the end; they'd all die, and he'd be here, stuck in the endless cycle of money, women, some drugs, and maybe a party here or there. 

Certainly cooled the fuck out of him sometimes. 

"Oh, are you?" He spoke after he noticed Summers look, almost as if he was preparing to apologise. 

"Yeah, and I just wanted to say that I chose to be here, by the way. I think you and I need to talk." Sometimes, he forgot how much Summers changed with Jean's influence. 

Sure, he was still a cheating ass, and sometimes James influenced it with a party here, a moment there, but that was just fun. They weren't where they were for nothing, and Nevada was a mecca for that shit. 

As Summers kept talking, James noticed a few men making their way over towards them as if it were about to be their lucky night and fuck if James knew that this wasn't the time, but Miguel wasn't a pussy, far from it. 

So, eugh, he needed to prepare.

"Summers..." He grumbled and tried to get the guy's attention, and yet he just continued. 

"Look, I and Jean, we talk. She feels shitty about what happened, man, and the fact that you're moving out to LA..."

For the love of everything and everyone, this couldn't have been happening to him. 

"Summers, I get it, but now might not be the time.." James tried as he slipped his fingers around his knives and slowly gave the meanest glare he could muster to Summers who still didn't seem to notice. 

Every moment, second, and breath. Those men got closer and still, Summers, with all the perception of a deer caught in headlights did nothing...

"I think it is, look, we need to talk and I want you to know." 

Just as he said those words, the men had finally came up to him and James just rolled his eyes. 

So much for booze and broads, maybe he could have sacrificed Summers and taken the $5,000,000 for himself. It certainly would have been a lot of paper going around if he convinced the right officials in LA but eugh, him and his duties to Charles. 

After this, he's taking a vacation. Sunset pier sounded good at this time of the year, a beach, pretty ladies, and no Summers. 

"Gentlemen." That's one of them, backed by five others, and Summers, like the willing idiot he is, answered. 

"Yes?" Yup, Sunset Pier sounded good.

"Don Miguel sends his regards-ack!"

James hadn't waited a second as he ran through two men, each cluthced their necks as blood splattered over his face when he growled without mercy as he soon sliced through another's and the last two, well, they ran away like little bitches. 

He stomped his foot and knew he'd been seen as he grabbed Summers by his shoulders and they rushed out to the truck...

It'd been a long fucking journey to California but this was what they fucking needed. 

...

James hated a lot of shit in his life but this, oh fuck, it took the whole cake. 

"Look, I just wanna talk-"

James struck him with the pommel of his knife as he glared at the side of his face. 

"You want to talk? Oh fine, let's talk! About the fucking 'fact that you have no awareness for anything or anyone after your own life. You could have just told me that you have no perceptive bone in your body. We could have went to fucking Burger Town if you wanted the kiddy gloves, Summers, but no! My stupid ass thought that one of god's greatest gifts could, I don't know, see what was coming to him!"

James growled as he locked eyes with Scott for a moment before he continued to drive the truck to its destination. Thankfully they were passing small towns now, and this could be resolved as quickly as possible. 

"Alright! I get it, Wolf. Calm the fuck down, I didn't think you'd have all this bullshit to be worried about. We're here anyway, aren't we?" 

Fuck, he was stupid. 

"Does it look like we're at the Pier, four eyes? Does it? We're meeting no one. All we know it's a freedom fighting organization based in Ireland and they're the ones that want the weight. We're providing it for them and honestly, that's good enough for me. I get a small piece of the fucking pie, and you, well, you get to move in with Jean."

James smiled sharply at that but soon the two of them continued to drive and it seemed as if everything could easily blend together. Nothing seemed as important as this right now when they'd only managed to do what they could here. 

Occasional pit stops, but they were on the road without so much as another word. Well, that was until all the time they took up driving as they were a few stops out, Summers decided to make a moment of it. 

"So you're really leaving without another word? Nothing? Does Xavier know? This can't be the last job, James. We've worked so hard together." Summers actually seemed to care, and for a second, James could have guessed why shit was...different. 

"Yeah, I am. Look, Summers, we're not exactly buds, alright? This whole thing from Charles is an exit strategy; he has bigger plans, and he wants me to handle shit out there. He'll give me a few pieces of work here and there, but what I strictly do is for the business, the family." James grumbled at him as if he made sure to know that he was still available, capable of working at the least. 

Summers stared at him again. "You're doing this for the family and couldn't do it in New York? You sure a few of your girls are going to be, I don't know, alright with that? It's not exactly alright with them, a few of them might miss you." Summers chuckled as he leaned back, his eyes level with James. 

Though he was driving, James realised he'd made it finally as he pulled up to a truck stop and parked the vehicle. 

There'd be a few guys waiting on the inside that made it all the more better, alright at the very least. 

"You can't be serious, we're leaving all this weight, here?" Summers didn't understand, this entire place was under the support of the Gall Crew. 

Thankfully, it'd give him enough to start up, slice up his own pieces of this pie and see what else he might be able to do in his spare time. 

"It'll be fine. Now, you take this." He slid over a few bills, which seemed to easily number $50,000. "That's for a different business, a different understanding, four eyes. Don't wave it about, just go inside and slide it over to the waitress, She'll know who it's for and if she asks, you come back out here, you'll do good."

Thankfully, Summers left as James was left alone and out of the shadows appeared one of the men he was supposed to meet on the opposite street. 

In two hands was the agreed upon money, $5,500,000, for this drop. It'd be easy as James tossed him the key and watched as he rode off when Summers had come back out with a letter in hand. 

James dropped only one of the suitcases before he took the note, oh, fancy place.

"Alright, you take that and I'll see you later, Summers. We've done good today, considering we've had no sleep. Anyhow, I'll catch you later. Make nice with your girl, make sure you don't go chasing skirts and loose women, eh?"

James was just about to cross the street when Summers called out to him, a put-out look on his face. 

"What about your half? What are you doing with that?" 

James just smirked and shook his head. "I told you, kid. This is going to be about making our family stronger, don't you worry. I'll see you when I see you, maybe I'll be better for it, bub."

James winked before he stomped off and knew he'd have to hit the ground running...

What the fuck was the Galley Bar?

Shit, just when he thought he'd gotten rid of those mysterious fucks.