A Man, a Woman, and a Tooth
by
Dyce



Disclaimer: They're not mine, the universe isn't mine, but I'm not making any profit of this little bit of humorous stuff!




"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Ain't gonna happen," he growled viciously, showing his teeth.

Cecilia eyed him disdainfully. "You don't scare me, short man."

Wolverine muttered a bit. His best scowl, his nastiest growl, and his most intimidating glare had all failed miserably. So had macho pronouncements and (his last-ditch desperation manouvere) body odour. He considered pouting. "Don't wanna."

"Baby," she said unfeelingly. "Now get up on the table and open your mouth."

"Won't." God, he sounded like a two year old. "Look, Reyes, my healing factor-"

"Only works on those things that actually heal, of which your tooth is not one. It's going to keep hurting until I pull it out and let the new one come in. If you leave it to drop out on its own it'll take weeks." She pointed inexorably at the examination bench-bed thingie. "Up, boy, or I'm sending you to a regular dentist."

"But-"

"NOW."

He lay down meekly. "I'm only doin' this 'cause the tooth's damn annoying."

"Having a broken off stub in your mouth would be, yeah." She sighed, pulling on her gloves and snapping on the light. "I wish we had a local anaesthetic that works on you. I'm a doctor, I don't like causing pain, even to get a ruined tooth out before it can get infected."

Wolverine grunted, closing his eyes against the painful brightness. "Ain't nothin', Doc. Gotten hurt worse playin' ball."

"Pfft. Right."

He chuckled, and couldn't help wincing a little as the cracked-off tooth cut into his tongue. She saw, but didn't comment. He liked that. Cece had her faults, but she didn't seem to see any need to point out the obvious, especially not when the only purpose was to make him admit he was hurting. He knew he was, she knew he was, he knew she knew he was, and they could just leave it there. "No, really. Got hit in the face once when Rogue threw th' baseball bat away a little too hard after she hit. Three teeth, my nose, and a cracked cheekbone."

"Remind me not to play baseball with you guys *ever*." Cecilia said with truly heartfelt sincerity. "Can't you even play non-contact sports safely?"

"Noh'reyay," he said, voice muffled by the two hands in his mouth. Ugh. Disposable latex gloves tasted just awful.

"I didn't think so." She isolated the broken tooth. "Want me to go through all the niceties with the cotton wool and the sucker thing, or just reach in with the forceps, yank it out, and let you be pathetically macho about it?"

He cracked one eye open and scowled as well as he could. "Jugegof'hit."

"Sorry, didn't get that." She grinned down at him. "Niceties or pathetically macho?"

He rolled his eyes under closed eyelids and sighed gustily around the little hand still firmly wedged in his mouth. "Fahehiky a'ho."

"It's your mouth," she shrugged. "If you *want* to suffer, go ahead."

"Hee, *hangks*."

"For you, anytime." She picked up a sturdy pair of forceps and manouvered them into his mouth, getting a good grip on the stub of the tooth. "Keep in mind that I'm not a dentist, and I wouldn't be doing this on someone who wouldn't heal up in five minutes or so."

He closed his eyes and braced himself. "Hi' igh."

Figuring that short and sharp was the way to go, Cecilia yanked hard on the tooth. Contrary to expectation and the basic rules of anatomy, it stayed right where it was. Huh. She tried again with both hands. That attempt managed to pull the faintest whisper of a whimper out of her patient, but the tooth itself didn't move an inch. She tried a third time and, rather more desperately, a fourth. That one ended with them nose to nose as the sheer force she'd exerted pulled him into a sitting position. After that happened again, twice, she relaxed her grip and scowled. "This isn't working," she muttered.

"Ea'y? Oo on't HAY," he said as bitterly as anyone could under the circumstances. His eyes were still clamped shut against the glare, so he missed the scowl, but he did get the tone.

"Look. . . maybe if I can get some leverage. . . " She lowered the examination bench-bed and rested one knee on his chest. "Okay, one more time. . . "

Two seconds later Wolverine was sitting up again, with the forceps hanging out of his mouth as he tried not to snigger at the seething doctor who was sitting on the floor. She glared at him. "Don't. Laugh."

"Waffen't gunna." And he *almost* kept a straight face too.

"Right. Thassit. Lie down, shut your eyes, and hold on. I'm gonna get that tooth if it kills me." She kicked off her shoes and glared. Next thing Logan (whose eyes were shut, remember) knew about it, there was a small, warm, and stocking-clad foot on his forehead, holding his head down firmly. The other knee, along with all her weight, was on his chest. Luckily for him, she didn't weigh much. "Now stay put."

He stayed put. Very put. Absolutely put. If he moved, she might move. And if she moved. . . he cracked one eye open just a smidge. . . he wouldn't be able to see up her skirt anymore. Aaaaall the way up her skirt. Lots of stockinged thigh and, ooh, red underwear. He hadn't pegged her for the type. The pretty view quite distracted him from the tooth-extraction process, so that when she deliberately threw all her weight against the recalcitrant bit of calcified whatsit, it came as a complete surprise.

It obviously came as a surprise to the tooth, too, as the damn thing finally emerged from his gum. Dammit. Just when he WANTED it to stay put. . . he sighed, pressing his tongue against the bleeding hole

"Aha!" Cecilia crowed triumphantly from the floor. She held up the forceps and eyed the tooth gleefully. "Got you!"

He got up, reaching down to offer her a hand up off the floor. "Good job, Doc." He smiled a bit crookedly. The tooth was out now, but the hole still hurt. "Never had a tooth pulled before."

"Never pulled one before," she admitted, accepting the hand and the unceremonious tug to her feet. From anyone else it'd be patronizing, but after you'd climbed all over the guy and fallen flat on your butt twice trying to get his tooth out, it was just. . . well, he was restablishing his hyper-masculine self-image. It was so obvious that it wasn't even offensive.

"Y' did a good job fer a first timer," he said grudgingly. "It was a tough one." That was Logan-code for 'thank you'.

"Yeah, well, don't think I'm ever doing it again." She brushed herself off. "Next time you can just bash it out with a rock or whatever you usually do." And that was Cecilia-speak for 'you're welcome'. In perfect mutual understanding, they headed for the door. "Hey, you mind if I keep this?"

He blinked. "Whattya want with one o' my old teeth, darlin'?"

She glared rather smugly at the forceps, and the jagged bit of slightly yellowed ivory clenched in their grasp. "I was thinking of framing it."

He chuckled, and couldn't help picturing the clawed finger that was carefully pickled and floating in a little jar on his desk where he could go and look at it any time he wanted to. "A trophy, huh? Know exactly what ya mean."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, I bet you do."

"That sounds almost like an insult, Doc," he rumbled, grinning slightly.

"Almost? I must be losing my touch." She put the tooth carefully in an empty film-container for safe keeping. "Now go home, put on something that doesn't smell like you've lived in it for a week, and come back and pick me up."

That earned her a blink and an odd look. "Huh?"

"You're not paying me. Xavier's not paying me. Nobody from the entire household ever pays me. So you're going to take me out to dinner instead." She eyed him critically. "Someplace decent. If it's got a kareoke machine, I'll neuter you."

He laughed at that. "You and whose army, darlin'?" He picked up his hat and jammed it on his head. "But okay, fair deal. I'll be back in about an hour, okay?"

"Make it an hour and a half." She grinned at him. "You'll need to clean your teeth."



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