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Chapter 1
Mutation.
The not too distant future I've never been a man given to much retrospection, mainly because I just don't have that much to remember. I learn more about my past from my dreams than I do from my wakin' hours. And those are usually filled with drinkin', fightin', and ridin' the roads, always lookin'. Always searchin'. For what, I have no idea other than just anything that might lead me to findin' out who I am and where I come from. And I guess that's why I'm drivin' through Northern Canada in a damn snow storm, thinkin' more about that girl in the bar than anything else, like maybe the fact that I'm dead dog tired, need to eat, sleep, and take a piss. Gotta admit, that last one is winnin' out. Or will soon. Soon as I find a semi-clear spot to pull over where I won't get stuck in some damn snow bank. Last thing I need is to have to dig myself out - again. Already done that twice this week. Or was that last week? Fuck me, I don't know. All of my days are runnin' together here lately. At least, until last night. When she walked in. The girl with the old eyes. I got a bead on her the minute she came in. The feelin' in there changed. It became…more…charged, I guess. The air grew sharper, the smoke stronger, the noises louder, the lights brighter, the blood lust more keen. At least to me. She didn't come too close to the cage, stayin' a few people back. I don't know who she was. Didn't get close enough to her to get her name, during the fight or after. I thought at the time that might come later, maybe. But I damn sure knew she was there. I didn't get a good look at her either, until later. Until after I won the fight. And yeah, okay, so I let that last guy beat on me a little longer than I normally would have. But she surprised me, you know? She was the only one in the crowd that wasn't screamin' for my blood. Not that they were gonna get it. But those marks didn't know that. All right, I'll admit it. She peaked my curiosity and distracted the hell out of me. But I got it together and kicked that redneck's ass. Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's winner, and still the King of the Cage, the Wolverine! The Wolverine. Yeah. That's me. Leastwise, that's what my tag says - 458-25-243 with Wolverine right underneath. I have no idea what it means, only that it belongs to me. Not much else does in this world, but that does. Anyway, back to the girl. She wasn't booin' or throwin' shit at the cage like everyone else there. But she didn't seem too happy at my winnin' either. More like concerned. Which made no damn sense since she didn't know me. Did she? Hell, she could have, and I'd not be the wiser. Okay, so now I had to know. And one of these days my curiosity is gonna get my stupid ass killed. Almost did tonight. Anyway, when I dressed and went over to the bar, she was sittin' there, in some big floppy green coat with a hood pulled up over her head. Could she know me? Could she answer some of those questions? So I looked at her. Really looked. And she looked back. Christ, she was just a kid. Sixteen? Seventeen? Could've been older, but probably not. Body and carriage said very late teens, maybe pushin' twenty. Unlikely, though, 'cause she smelled young. She looked away and I kept glancin' over at her. No. No way could this kid know me. Her eyes said she was every bit as old as I am - however old that is. But she had the face of fourteen year old. She'd seen some serious shit, this kid. But that didn't matter. She was still a kid. Cute though. Real pretty and fresh lookin'. I can be accused of a hell of a lot, but I ain't no damn short-eyes. Still, couldn't help but notice. She was gonna be a real looker in a year or two - half way there now. But yeah. That one was gonna be something special some day. If life didn't beat the shit out of her first. Still, we stared at each other a bit, off and on. Both of us tryin' to act like we weren't, alternatin' back and forth between each other and the television on the wall. She was shakin' a little, and her scent said it was from nerves and cold mixed. If her eyes got any wider, they'd swallow her face. She was so jumpy, she looked like she was gonna come clean out of her skin. But again, it wasn't me that she was nervous of. And that just didn't make any damn sense at all. I don't understand it. I've tried to figure it out for hours now, but I just can't explain it. See, she screamed when that redneck I beat pulled his knife on me, and it pissed me off. Somethin' fierce. Not because he'd pulled a knife - I've faced worse. Hell, I am worse. No, I was pissed because that asshole scared her. He and his buddy came up behind me. I knew they were there - this fuckhead stunk so bad I'da smelled him five miles away. More than once, I've hadta deal with some numb-nuts who got all jacked off because he had his ass beat in front of his buddies. Or his woman. Or both. So yeah, I was used to this little two-step. I could easily handle him, his buddy, and anybody else who decided to come out to play. The girl watchin' didn't know that though. She stopped tryin' to pretend she wasn't lookin' at me and just started starin' at that asshole and his buddy behind me. But he thumps me on the shoulder, so I turned around, knowin' she's watchin' all of this, and kinda wishin' she wasn't. You owe me some money. Come on, Stu. Let's not do this. He shoulda listened to his buddy. Really. He shoulda. But he didn't. Still, he wasn't worth the effort. So I ignored him and turned back around. Went back to my cigar, beer, and lookin' at the girl…ah, the TV. I was lookin' at the TV. Mutant news on it. Real interestin'. But the asshole wasn't givin' up that easy. No man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it. Come on buddy, this isn't gonna be worth it. His buddy was right. It wasn't gonna be worth it. But this one, he was a special kind of stupid…that my-family-tree-don't-fork kind of dipshit. So what does he do? He leans down all menacing like and tries to threaten me. I know what you are. I almost laughed. I mean, come on. That's the best he could come up with? This sack of shit wasn't worth my time. I fight for money. Or to save my own ass. Or someone else's on the rare occasion. Not because some redneck expects to use me as a punchin' bag to prove his nuts are bigger than raisins. I'd already beat his ass for his money. And this shit stain didn't come close to bein' a threat to me. Even in his wildest wet dream he'd not be lucky enough to take me down. So I warned him off, always give 'em one chance to walk away before they lose a limb, right? You lost your money. Keep this up and you'll lose somethin' else. Did that scare him off? Fuck no. Didn't really figure it would. His type doesn't pick up on shit easy. But I glanced back over at the kid and she's swallowin' so hard it looks like she's tryin' to keep from throwin' up. She heard him. She heard what he said about knowin' what I was. Fuck. That's when I felt it. Her fear. It slammed into me like a hammer to the gut. She was so damn scared, I could taste it on the air. Outta no where I was madder than I'd been in a long time. So angry I was growlin' with it. Real low like. I doubt anyone heard it. Anyone but her. She heard it. Everything sorta happened at once then. His buddy pulled him back. Dipshit pushed him away and pulled a knife. She screamed. Look out!! Before I even thought about it, before the sound of her scream had stopped ringing in my ears, I had him pinned to the pole with my claws, millimeters from his throat, the middle one slidin' out real slow for good measure. She looked at my claws, her eyes got even wider in her face. Oh she was definitely scared, all right. I could smell her fear even stronger then, especially when the bar tender tried to put a permanent part in my hair with that pump-action shotgun of his. But when I looked back at her…when I had those two goons held back by the claws, she didn't look that scared. Well, she did, but not of my claws and not of me. For me. She was scared for me. Fear has almost a sour tang to it, but more acidic than sour. And it's hot. Almost electric, that can smell really good sometimes, 'specially if you want someone to be afraid of you. It'd been a long time since anyone gave a damn whether I lived or died. I didn't want her afraid. For me or not. But it caught me off guard. I wasn't ready for it. Not from her…some slip of a girl with big brown eyes. Eyes too old for her face, shinin' up at me, her heart poundin' hard enough so I could see her pulse over that purple scarf she wore. Fear rolled off her in waves, and not a damn bit of it headed my way. There she sat, scared as hell for me. Me. A guy she didn't even know. Hadn't even spoken to. And lemme tell you, that'll do somethin' to a man. Teenager or not. It made me feel…hell, I don't know what it made me feel. It just damn sure got my attention. More so than the two idiots on the ends of my claws. Nobody moved, and I looked at her again. Then her scent changed. The longer I stood there with my claws to Fuck-head's neck, and the other set pointed at the old man behind me, the more her scent changed. It was subtle at first. I barely even noticed it for a minute. And then she was startin' to smell appealin' to me. So I paid a little more attention to it. Her scent was so strong it outweighed the drunk trucker in the corner. I could smell her over the gunpowder of the ruined shot gun. Over the bar tender who'd just pissed himself when I sliced up his weapon. Over the stink of terror and hate comin' from the dumb fucker facin' the business end of my claws just for tryin' to shake me down for cash. Fuck, did she smell good. Too good. Made me start growlin' louder, and this time everybody heard it. I pulled my claws back in, shrugged my shoulder back into my jacket and stared at her a little more, not even botherin' to hide it. I breathed in, still starin' at her, wantin' her to know I was lookin'. I breathed her in deep. Real deep. Her scent was rich, earthy, heavy, intoxicatin', blisterin' hot… And then it hit me what it was I was smellin' comin' off her. Oh fuck no, but I wasn't stickin' around for that - no matter how good...no. Just - no fuckin' way. That shit'll get you killed quick in backwater places like Laughlin City. So I did the only thing a man like me in that position could do. I ran like hell. But I hadta walk right past her to get to the door, and that scent spiked sharp, almost drownin' me in it, when I came close enough to touch her. Didn't. Wanted to. But didn't. I kept walkin'. And damn if I don't deserve a medal or some shit for it. Got in my truck and hauled ass out of there. And I've been drivin' ever sense. Hours now. Been ridin' ever since dawn and it's almost dinner time. And I still can't get her scent outta my nose. I probably could find her anywhere now. Damn. How long's it gonna be before I can stop smellin' her? It's startin' to get irritatin'. 'Course, I ain't in the best of moods right now anyway. Haven't even stopped to eat or take a piss either like I said earlier. And that's definitely climbin' higher on my list of priorities. Ah, there we go…a place to pull over. -x-
Xavier's School For
Gifted Youngsters "Professor?" He nodded absently. "I'm fine, Scott." The younger man scowled. He knew his mentor was the most powerful telepath the world had ever seen, but he took his duties seriously. And guarding the Professor was at the top of his list. He didn't like being so easily shrugged off. "Anything new?" Xavier gave a low sigh as he glanced up at his former student, his worried look melting into a slight smile at the sight of the familiar ruby quartz glasses aimed back down at him, the expression of concern so plain to see. "Unfortunately, yes. Magneto's plotting something." "What?" "I'm not sure." Xavier laughed at the dubious expression on the younger man's face. "Eric is always plotting something, Scott. I don't have to be psychic to know he's doing it. It's as much a part of him as Jean's telekinesis is of her. It just is." Scott's brow furrowed over his glasses as they stopped in front of the elevator leading from the lower levels of the school to the main floor. He punched the button and waited for the professor to precede him into the lift before he asked his question. "All right, given those circumstances, what do you think his target area is?" "North. Canada possibly." "What's in Canada that's gotten Magneto's attention?" Scott's frown deepened. "I have no idea," Xavier murmured absently as he wheeled out of the elevator and into the main corridor, smiling at his students as they waved at him on their way to their various classes. "And I'm not certain that his goal is Canada at all. It appears that he's found a way to block my telepathy." "That can't be good." Xavier gave a brief chuckle. "A distinct understatement where Eric is concerned, Scott. And quiet possibly a deadly one." "Have you decided how you're going to handle it?" "Not at the moment, no," Xavier shook his head as they made their way towards his office. "However, I intend to try again later tonight to see if I can't find something that will give us a little more clarity as to what Magneto's plans are." The younger man held the door open for him then entered the office, and closed the door behind them. "But Professor, if he's blocking your telepathy, how are you going to track him down?" Xavier rolled to a stop on the other side of his desk. "It isn't Magneto that I shall be searching for this next time. I'm going to try to locate a mutant rumored to be recently aligned with him. Sabretooth." Scotts lips twisted into a grimace as he took a seat opposite the desk. "Sabretooth. He's bad news. Storm and I ran into him a while back." "Yes, I remember," Xavier nodded, a slight frown curving his mouth downward. "We almost lost you then." "Don't worry, Professor." He grinned at him. "I won't let Fuzz-face get the drop on me again." "I should certainly hope not." Xavier chuckled and began to shuffle through the papers on his desk. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an Ethics class to teach in five minutes." Still grinning, Scott stood up and glanced down at the stack of papers his mentor was readying. "Pop quiz?" "Of course." "I hated those." Xavier's smile deepened. "You still do." He watched his former student as he rose and headed for the door, but stopped him before he could leave. "Scott?" "Yes, sir?" "Alert Ororo." His tone dipped down, making his voice rumble through the office, with barely tapped power bolstering it. "We need to be prepared to intercept whatever or whomever he's tracking. Both of you be ready at a moment's notice." The younger man
gave a predatory smile, and nodded. "Yes, sir." -x- Northern
Alberta, Canada My voice sounds loud in my ears. Must be all the quiet and white around here. Silence is loud, and all this white snow around tricks your brain into hearin' shit louder than it is. Somethin' about snow makes you feel like you should whisper though. Fuck me if I know why. But I've always felt that way about it. And I ain't real big on snow. "Damn it." I've only just gotten back in the truck, the wheels of the trailer bumping hard against the asphalt as I pull back on the road. Waiting a minute, I sit real still, barely moving but to steer the truck. There. I feel it again, and this time a quiet little noise with it. Almost like a squeak and a slight shifting in the weight of the trailer my truck is hauling. Now that might not sound like a big tip-off, but when you're drivin' on as much snow and ice as I am, you notice any little shift no matter how small. Fuck! There it is again. My bike must have come loose. No other cars on the road - I'm the only fool out here - so I stop the truck right where it's at, and get out to take a look. Truck looks fine, so I give the trailer a once over. Even though there isn't any wind to speak of at the moment, I hear that shifting sound again. The damn trailer just moved. That's when I see it. A tarp over a lump that shouldn't be there. A person sized lump. A girl from the bar shaped lump. I lean in just a bit and take a deep breath in through my nose. Fuck. It's her all right. No wonder I've smelled her since I left Laughlin City. Christ! A damn stowaway. I poke at the lump, and when it jumps under my fingers, I snatch the tarp back. She turns her head and looks up at me real slow. "What the hell are you doin'?" "I'm sorry. I needed a ride," she says as she sits up. "Thought you might help me." Fuck again. A husky Southern accent on top of that little girl's face on a woman's body, with a scent that's got my skin already itchin'. Somebody upstairs doesn't like me. Not even a little bit. Those eyes that see way too much for someone her age hit me and it takes every bit of concentration I have to say what I do. "Get out," I tell her as I reach in for her duffle and drop it on the snow-packed road. "Where'm I supposed to go?" She answers, climbing out of the trailer. "I dunno." "You don't know or you don't care?" "Pick one." Okay, so that was a little mean. But I don't need a kid taggin' along after me. Not one that looks like her when she looks at me and smells like she does. I'm not a decent man. I'm a mean, ornery, son of a bitch with three, foot-long, metal, sharp-as-razor-blades claws in each hand, and a real short temper. I like things done my way. I like an bloody fight, a hot meal, smooth beer, stiff whiskey, a damn hard fuck up against a wall, and then a good night's sleep, alone. Usually in that order. And I ain't usually too picky about who I've got up against that wall, either. As long as she's pleasin' to the eye, got a great rack, and is willin', I'm ready to go at one come-fuck-me smile. But even I have my limits. And jail-bait like this one is definitely off of all 'em. She hits the ground beside her duffle and I get back in the truck just in time to hear her yell, "I saved your life!" "No you didn't." I slam the door, and pull off. I'm driving away, watching her get smaller and smaller in the side mirror. I don't even make it fifty feet before I remember how she looked in the bar. When she didn't know I was watching her. She had looked…lost. At least, she had until she saw me. I guess that's why I do it. Why I stop the truck and let her run to catch up to me. I don't even know her name, but I know her. And more importantly, somehow, she knows me. That, or I'm a bigger fuckin' idiot who loves self-torture more than I ever thought I was. She opens the door to the truck and her scent hits me hard. Yeah. That'd be me - the real stupid motherfucker who'd be better served stabbin' myself in the eye with my cigar than lettin' this kid get in my truck. This kid who smells good enough to…no. Not gonna think about that. Ah Christ. "There's a town about thirty kilometers up. I'll take you as far as there, but that's it." I say as she stares at me through the open door. She sort of jumps up into the cab of my truck and slams the door, shoving the oversized duffle bag down into the foot. "That'll be fine, thanks. You don't have anything to eat, do you?" Figures. I pull a cardboard-tastin'-protein-cake-bar-thing out of the glove-box and toss it in her lap. She falls on that thing like she hasn't eaten for days. And hell, maybe she hasn't. She eats almost all of it in just a few seconds, then stops to breathe heavy for a minute before she pushes her hood back. Brown. Long and brown. 'Bout the color of dark chocolate. Just like those old eyes of hers. Yeah, somebody upstairs must really fuckin' hate me. Bet she's a chatterer too. "I'm Rogue." Yup, here we go. I don't say anything, but keep the truck headed in the same direction as when I started. Only this time, I've got a magpie in the seat next to me. "Were you in the army?" She peers over my arm at the tag around my neck. "Doesn't…doesn't that mean you were in the army?" I tuck the tag back into my shirt. I don't want to have to explain that I don't know what it means. When I don't answer, she looks over her shoulder and into my camper. I know what she'll see. Not much. A mattress and blankets. Old wet jeans and flannels hanging on a rigged line. Piles of rags in the corner. A tool box. A propane tank. That's about it. A whole lot of nothing. "Wow." Something in that one word rubs me the wrong way. "What? She turns an overly innocent look my way. "Suddenly my life doesn't look that bad." "Hey if you prefer the road -" "No! No. It looks great." She apologizes quickly. "It looks…cozy." She breaks off another piece of that cake thing and shoves it in her mouth then starts to rub her hands together trying to warm them. Me, I'm used to the cold. Been here so long I don't usually even feel it anymore. But her fingers are turning blue. I reach over and pop the heater, and move to pull her hands towards it. "Put your hands on the heater." But she jerks her hands away like I'm about to cut 'em off at the wrists. Oh yeah, the claws. She hadn't been afraid of them at the bar, so I guess I forgot. "I'm not gonna hurt you, kid." She's pullin' her gloves back on. "It's nothing personal. It's just that…when people touch my skin, something happens." That had my attention. "What?" "I don't know." She shakes her head a little. "They just get hurt." Can't argue with that logic. I mean, how can I when I've got foot long metal claws that I can't explain how they got there? "Fair enough." I take another deep breath and almost laugh in relief. That way-too-interested-in-me smell she had at the bar was long gone. I mean, it was still there, but way below the surface. Almost like a hint of what it could become. Hold up there bub, steer clear of that kind of thinkin'. I take another breath, and something sweet is comin' off her now. Not flowery or fruity sweet…but somethin' somewhere in between…can't place it… Now she's starin' at my hands on the steering wheel. And I can feel that stare like she's about to touch me…that feelin' you get right before someone puts a hand on you. The heat I guess. I don't like it. Besides, she ain't moved her hands at all. An' besides, what the hell do I say? Stop starin' at me kid, because I can almost feel it and freaks me out? Fuck no. I ignore it. You ignore anything long enough and it'll go away. "When they come out…does it hurt?" Anything but her evidently. And not what I expected her to ask. Always catching me off guard, this kid. Not good. "Every time." I hoped that'd shut her up. Shut down her questions. I should have known better. Because that's what magpies do. Chatter. Constantly. "How long have you known?" "Known what?" She shrugs a shoulder. "That you were like me." If she only knew. "I'm not like you." "No, you're just a regular everyday claw guy -" Smart-assed little thing ain't she? "Hey, listen kid. Right now about the only thing you've done to endear yourself to me is get me into a fight. So please, Rogue…if you don't mind…" I point my cigar at her. She just stares at me and I forget what the hell I was gonna say. But she doesn't seem to notice. "Were you gonna kill that guy?" Again with the unexpected questions. "I dunno. I was just playing it by ear." And why in fuck am I answering her?! Time to ask some questions of my own. Maybe figure out why she's runnin'. Not like I really give a shit. "So what kind of name is Rogue?" "I dunno. What kind of name is Wolverine?" She's got moxy, this kid. I like her. "My name's Logan." "Marie," she says after a short pause. She gets this stubborn tilt to her chin, like she's darin' me to do somethin'. Say somethin'. I try not to smile. No need to encourage her. "How old are you?" No answer, just a ducked head, a smile she has no idea how flirty it looks, and a blush. And here comes that too-good smell again. Gotta derail that train of thought. I try again. "You got a last name, kid?" That changes her tune and her scent. Fear. Anger. Sadness. Sad smells like sea salt, real acrid. And there's a lot of it on her all of a sudden, but no expression to match. Her face goes blank and she looks back out of the windshield at she frozen landscape. "Do you?" Shit. How do I answer that? I got precious few memories and the ones I do have don't include much personal information. "I don't know." Okay, that got her attention and she turns back to stare at me some more. And I can feel her lookin' at me again. "You don't know if you've got a last name or not?" She cocks her head to the side and narrows those old eyes at me. "How come?" I shrug and ease up on the accelerator, keeping my eyes trained on the road ahead. "I can't remember." She just stares at me for a while then says kinda low, "Wish I couldn't." "No you don't." I fight the urge to shift in my seat as I feel her stare more heavily now. Like she's tryin' to see through me. She snorts loud and rolls those eyes. "Says you." "Yeah, says me. You try not knowin' your own name. Just wakin' up one day wet, frozen, covered in - " I stop myself and shake my head. She's payin' way too close attention. And that starin' of hers is getting' on my last nerve. "All I know is what I've lived for the past fifteen years and none of that includes any names other than Logan and Wolverine. It ain't all it's cracked up to be, kid." And she's shakin' her head at me, makin' that long brown hair of hers dance across the front of her coat. "I don't want to remember. I could start all over if I couldn't remember." She finished that really quiet, more like she's talkin' to herself rather than to me. It makes me wonder what the hell happened to her. She won't tell me her last name, her age, anything. Definitely a runaway. But from what? And more importantly, why do I care? I'm just gonna drop her at the next town anyway. Right? I looked at her for a minute before turning back to the road. "It isn't the just bad memories you lose, kid. It's the good ones too." The look on her face says she hadn't thought of that. The quick opening and closing of her mouth told me so. She screws up her mouth in a sideways smirk. "Fine. You win." I can't fight the half-grin this time. "I usually do, darlin'. Best get used to it now." She cuts those eyes over at me again, but doesn't stare this time. She just grins like she knows somethin' I don't and goes back to watching the scenery out of her side of the truck, that sweet smell waftin' off her again. And out of no where it hits me how tired I am. I've been up all night fightin' and drinkin' and then hit the road. We've been riding for not quite an hour and if I'm startin' to give a damn about some jail-bait runaway, it was definitely time for some shut-eye. No need to stop though. "You can drive, right kid?" "Oh yeah, sure," she nods. "Just -" "Just what?" "I…ah…I've never driven on snow before. I don't know how." Well shit. And what the fuck was I thinkin', trustin' her to drive while I slept anyway? Shit, but I must be more tired than I thought. Oh well. It ain't like I'm worried she'll cut my throat in my sleep, now am I? Then that accent of hers clicks in my head. Southern. Deep south too, by the sound of her. Alabama, Georgia or Mississippi maybe. Not Louisiana though. Different sound to those people. Yeah, she wouldn't know snow like this from down that way. Explains why she's damn near blue with cold too. Seein' the turn off up ahead, I shift the truck over to it and pull it onto the side road and head up the short stretch to a dive I know that should be open. Hot food, not necessarily good. But hot'll do. I can catch a few winks and maybe even scare up a fight for some extra cash later on. "Where we goin'?" "Just up ahead. I need to crash and you can't drive, so I figure we'll fuel up, eat, get some rest and head out later tonight." I answer as we roll past a beat up sign that reads says Welcome to Carrot Creek. "I don't have any money." "Didn't ask you if you did, now did I?" I answer back watching for the diner I know is just up the ways here…yep. There it is. Just a few buildings down. I put on my signal - not that it mattered. Folks who live here have the good sense to stay inside on days like this. Her eyes got real wild-lookin' at that. "I can't pay you back." "I told you before, kid. I ain't gonna hurt you." I pulled into two spaces near the back of the lot cut the engine and turned to stare at her. See how she liked it for a change. She looked like she was gonna bolt. "Look, where're you gonna go? If you didn't notice it before, I'm the only one out on these roads today. It's over eighty kilometers until the next town where you can catch another ride. You gonna walk to wherever you're runnin' to? Just relax, will ya?" "You can't touch my skin. It'll hurt you." Her face turns about eight shades of red, but her eyes…man…her eyes have all sorts of shadows in them. Things I can't read, but don't need to, to know what's racin' through her head right now. And that too-interested smell is back, but chock-full of somethin' sour…worse than fear...more like…shame. Fuck! I don't need to know this shit! "I don't wanna hear it." It came our harsher and more gruff than it should have. Damn. She looks down, her face gettin' even redder, that shame smell growin' stronger. "I can -" "I ain't like that, kid." I cut her off because honest to god, if I had to hear what may or may not have happened to her while she's been running the roads, I'll end up stabbin' my claws straight through the engine block. Right after I slash up every single son of a bitch that made her think that's what I had in mind. Like I was the same as those sick fuckers I'm sure she met more than her fair share of on the road. "You ain't got to worry about that. Not with me. Understand?" She doesn't answer right away. Doesn't look up either. I reach over, and tug on a lock of her hair. And she lets me do it, but shoots her head up, all the red bleaching away into white as her eyes dart from the end of her hair to my fingers. "I'm not gonna hurt you," I say again. "I know," she whispers real quiet, almost too low to hear. But she's starin' deep into my eyes, like she's lookin' for somethin'. "I know you won't." "C'mon, then." I say, tuggin' on her hair again, winding it up around my finger, movin' the hair back and forth between my thumb and index finger. Getting' a good feel of the texture. I tug on it a third time then give her a half-smile. "Let's go get some grub. Whadda ya say?" She looks down at my hand again, then back to where her hair was wound around my finger. When she finally looks back up at me, I think for a minute she's gonna cry. Doesn't smell like it though. I breathe in again and decide this close to her is a really bad idea, all that sweet smell I can't place for the life of me fillin' up my nose. As I let go of her hair and back off a little, she sucks it up and gives me a shaky nod. I slide out of my side of the truck and walk around to meet her on the other side. "Stay close, kid," I warn her. "This town ain't known for its high moral code, if you get my drift." "Not a family town. Stay close. Got it." She nods at me and I head for the front door. I stop short as I feel a small hand curling into the back of my leather jacket, gettin' a good grip. I look over and she's starin' up at me, like I'm some damn knight on a white horse or somethin'. Damn she really is a little thing. Young too. Too young, I remind myself. No matter how good she smells. "This okay?" Fuck it. My path to Hell was paved a long time ago. And if anyone up there is keepin' score, they gotta understand that I'm doin' the best I can. Right? An' if they don't? Fuck them too. "Yeah, kid. Just fine," I nod and drape my arm over her shoulder, casual like, letting it dangle like it belongs there as she steps even closer against me. I reach back and move her hand so that it's around my waist rather than crumplin' up my jacket. Hey, it's the only one I've got, okay? And sue me, but I'm kind of attached to it. We walk together towards the ratty-assed diner across the parking lot and I know we're gonna get some looks. Probably some whispers. Maybe even an unwelcome comment or two. But hell, it wouldn't be a day in my life if I wasn't pissin' someone off about somethin'. Besides, she still looks shaky and maybe she needs the contact for support or some such shit. I can do that, I
tell myself as I push the door open and gesture for her to go on in just
ahead of me. I can't do much for her, but I can definitely do that. -x- Full Moon Diner "Logan," she almost whines at me. I shake my head. "Kid," I growl back. "I can see you startin' to sweat. Now, off." And damn if she don't stick her tongue out at me! I can't help it. I bark out a laugh that has her stoppin' dead and starin' at me, her mouth droppin' open in surprise. I kinda like that. Catchin' her off guard for a change. But she does as I told her and takes off that damn coat of hers, foldin' it up on the booth seat beside her. "Better?" With a grimace she nods reluctantly, and her gloved hands come up to flutter over her hair, smoothin' it back down in place. She's lookin' around nervously like she expects someone to jump over a table and get her or somethin'. "Settle down, kid, before you work yourself into a stroke," I growl at her a little, and that just makes her smile. Can't figure this kid out to save my ass, I swear. I toss a menu at her from the stand on the edge of the table. Place musta changed owners since I was here last. Looks nice now. And the food actually smells kinda good rather than just warm. "Logan, really, I can just have -" I lower my own menu to glare at her over the top of it. "Get whatever you want. But you are gonna eat somethin' more substantial than that protein whatsit back in the truck. And I ain't havin' this conversation anymore. Understand?" Now, I've seen grown men cower under the full force of one of my glares. Big fuckers too. Twice my size. But what's this kid do? She smiles at me. And bounces in her seat a little. Ah, kid, don't do that. "You sure?" she asks me as a lady, about forty, walks up to our table, her order pad already out. "I said so, didn't I?" The waitress grins at us. "Hey there. Y'all know whatcha want?" Marie's eyes go all wide and a little misty at that thick Southern drawl comin' out of the woman. It's real out of place up here, but I bet it reminds her of where she's runnin' from. She ducks her head back down to stare at the menu. "Coffee, black, two sugars. Steak. Rare. And whatever she wants," I nod at Marie and put the menu back. "You get two sides with that." The waitress grins at me. "Surprise me." I grin back. "Oh, you got it, sweet thing." The waitress grins wider at me and winks - hey, what can I say? Women like me. And damn if I don't like them back. But this one…she's just teasin'. I can smell it. She's got a man somewhere close by, 'cause she's covered in his scent. But teasin', now that I'm pretty good at - when I wanna be. She turns to Marie. "What'll you have, honey?" Marie swallows hard and doesn't look up. "The same. But make mine medium, okay?" The other lady writes it down and nods. "And what to drink?" She thinks for a second and finally looks up at her. "You don't have any sweet tea, do you?" Sweet tea? What the hell is that? But the waitress seems to know, because she gets this real gentle smile on her face. "Now that's somethin' I've not heard anyone ask for in a long time. I'll make some up just for you, honey. Food'll be up in a few. Name's Della Moon. Holler if you need anything." She walked away yellin' out the order to some fella in the window that she calls Hoyt, as she heads back to the kitchen. "You okay, kid?" She nods but looks down at where her hands are folded one over the other in front of her on the table. "She sounds like my momma." I don't need to breathe in to know she's sad. It's all over her. Shoulder's bowed, head down, frown pullin' at her bottom lip. And even though I don't know why I care, but damn it, I just do. "Wanna tell me about it?" "No." "You sure?" "Nothin' to tell," she lifts a shoulder in another shrug and then looks back up at me, those old eyes of hers sadder than they should be for a girl her age. I suppose. "They didn't want a mutant for a kid, so I left." Okay, wasn't expectin' that. And by the wide eyes she was givin' me, I figure she didn't either. But I wasn't gonna let her clam up on me now. Anyone with eyes in their head and just a little bit of compassion in their heart could see she was dyin' to talk to someone. "How long you been on your own?" "Eight months," she answers, hesitatin' a little. "Long time for someone your age on the road by themselves." "Yeah," she nods. I try again. "How old are you, kid?" She sighs. "Old enough." There was a hell of a lot of hidden meanin' in those two words. I know my limits, though. I was there. And those eyes of hers go haunted all of a sudden. I knew it, damn it. She's seen some shit she shouldn't. I hope to God she doesn't tell me. Not now. I can't beat the shit out of anyone in here. Not yet. I don't know why I did it. I guess because she looked so damn sad. Lost. Like she did back in the bar in Laughlin City. I reached over and laid my hand down on hers, right on top of her gloves that she's left on. Curled my fingers around hers, and she gripped 'em tight for a second, like she forgot for a minute, before she slid her hands away. I let her go. Besides, our food was here. Della comes over, a big tray in her hands, and starts layin' out food. Two steaks still sizzlin' on the plate, two big green salads, mashed potatoes, green peas, and a basket of rolls that smell like they've got honey butter on 'em. My mouth starts waterin' the minute they hit the table. I'm already carvin' into my steak when she puts my coffee in front of me, along with a glass of water that I didn't order. She sets a tall glass of ice in front of Marie, pours some tea into it, and then sets the pitcher in front of her. With a big smile Marie takes a sip out of the glass. "Oh, god that's good." She kinda moaned it too. I look up to see her eyes closed and she's drinkin' deeper, a look of pure bliss on her face. That just ain't right. Not over fuckin' tea. She opens her eyes to find me starin' at her, and she looks away, at the menu on the end of the table, and her nostrils flare as her gaze settles on the pictures of the deserts on display. "Y'all eat up, and I'll be back in a few for your desert order." She winks at the kid again. Marie blushes at that, caught eyein' the pictures. "But I don't want-" "Oh yes you do, honey," Della sasses back at her. She reaches over and pats me on the shoulder. Doesn’t' bother me. Like I said, women like me. They like touchin' me too. And I like lettin' 'em. I grin at Marie and she blushes harder. I kinda like that too. "And this one here looks like he'll buy you whatever you want," Della teases a bit more. Marie blushes even redder at that, and I'm so damn amused by it, I just let Della go on thinkin' whatever she wants. Besides, she's right. I told the kid to get whatever she wanted and I'd pay for it. I meant it too. And no, I'm not gonna stop and think about that too hard right now either. Watchin' Della make her go all flustered is much more fun than settin' her straight. Besides, Marie's smellin' really sweet, right now. Like she did in the truck. But with a hint of something spicy. Cinnamon. But I'll be damned if I can place that sweet scent, yet. I'll get it though, as well as what it means. Cinnamon must be her nervous smell. The good kind of nervous, flirty and teasin' nervous. And I like that even more. "We're not -" "Honey," Della interrupts again, cocking one hip, her hand restin' on it. "If there's one thing I know, she glances back at the man in the kitchen window, a real lovin' look on her face, lettin' me know he's hers, "…it's the look of a man who takes care of what's his. And this one," she pats me again, "…is plumb eat up with it. Y'all enjoy now." Marie didn't waste any time, plowin' right into her dinner, like she did that protein whatsit back in the truck. Grinnin' I tuck in to mine too. It's nice to see someone who appreciates good food like I do. Especially a female. A healthy appetite is good for ya. Better than livin' on a lettuce leaf and a diet cola. I don't trust those types. They're always workin' some kind of angle, it seems. But not Marie. She has her secrets, sure, but from what I've seen in just the little time we've been together? What you see is what you get. Sorta like me. Neither one of us pretend to be anything we're not. We eat in silence for a while before my curiosity gets the better of me again. "When was the last time you ate, kid?" She shrugs a thin shoulder. Too thin, now that I can see her without that huge coat of hers coverin' her up. "Couple of days, I guess," she answers, takin' another big forkful of potatoes. She stops the fork halfway to her mouth and stares at me, lookin' a little self-conscious. Damn, but I gotta watch what I say around her. I wave her on. "Eat. Don't need you passin' out on me from lack of food." Della's comin' back this way. "Ya'll ready to order desert now?" Marie looks over at me, and I can't help but stare out the window to see the snow comin' down harder and faster than it should. We're not gonna get out of here tonight. And damn, but that camper's gonna be cold. Maybe too cold. I wonder if I've got enough blankets for the both of us. "Sweet thing, y'all can't stay out there in that contraption. You'll freeze ta death." She leans down a little and lowers her voice. "Hoyt and me live above now. But when we first bought this place, we had a room down here while we were fixin' up the apartment upstairs. Never bothered to make it over into somethin' else either. It's got a bathroom attached, and a nice big bed with a television and such. Hoyt and me talked it over. Y'all are welcome to it for the night if you like." I look up at her and she's grinnin' at me. Lookin' around her I see Hoyt in the kitchen starin' at me. He gives one nod. And I got it. Man of few words. I like that. A real bed sounds awfully temptin'. Oh. She said bed - as in one. One bed. Two of us. I look over at Marie and she's smellin' like sugar and cinnamon again. Nervous. Definitely. "Kid?" "Yeah, sure," she stammers at me. "Fine." I look back up at Della, who's smilin' at me again. "We'll take it. How much for the night?" "Nothin'." I shake my head, and look around her again at Hoyt. "I pay my way." He gives me a knowin' look and nods again, this time with a gruff sound. Almost like a woof, but not quite. Makes me wonder if he's one of us. Come to think of it, he is kinda shaggy looking, with real sharp eyes, almost yellow. Like a wolf's. Not my business. I look back at Della. "See? Hoyt agrees." "He would, stubborn Alpha." She rolls her eyes. "All right. But we'll settle up in the mornin'. In the mean time, I'd get on out there and get whatever y'all are gonna need for the night before it gets any worse." "I think you're right." I nod. "You wait here, okay, kid?" "Don't you worry about her." Della tells me. "She'll be too busy with that big serving of peach cobbler I'm gonna bring her in a minute." "Make it two." Della laughs and winks at me as she walks away. "You got it, sweet thing." I slide out of the booth and shrug into my jacket. I look down at her, and she's smiling up at me. Like she's known me forever or somethin'. Like we've done this a hundred times before. I know it's just to the parkin' lot and back, but for some damn reason, I don't want to leave her here. But I got no choice, really. "I'll be right back." "I know." "You do, huh?" "Yeah." "How come?" She shrugs again. "I trust you." Well, shit. -x- Full Moon Diner I ain't been gone but a few minutes. Just long enough to hike out into peelin' your skin from your bones winds, get to the truck, grab her duffle and mine, and hike back to the diner. And what do I smell before I even get to the door? Marie. Scared shitless. I hit the door hard, bustin' in like some abominable snow beast, upper lip peeled back and growlin' loud enough for anyone to hear me. The diner's almost empty. Just Della, Hoyt, one or two other customers bundlin' up for their trek home, and that asshole leanin' over the table leerin' at Marie. Tall guy, brawny, blonde and covered in what looks like rabbit skins. But about as bright as a box of rocks if he's messin' with Marie. She sees me and raises scared eyes to mine. "Logan…" I can hear the fear in her voice even if I couldn't smell it before, and that just pisses me off even more. That's one soon-to-be-dead fucker. "Get away from her, dickhead." "This doesn't concern you, friend." Jack-off doesn't even turn around when I speak to him. Well, he's about to find out why they call me the Wolverine. "I ain't your friend. Now get the fuck away from her before you lose a limb." I step closer and he lifts his head to growl at me. At me. Now we're both growlin' and - fuck me – Hairy sombitch, with black eyes…all the way across. That's just - sonofabitch, what the fuck is he, anyway? My growl ratchets up louder as I flex both hands. And - snikt - out come both sets of claws. The diner goes real quiet then, and Marie looks over at me, but I can't look at her. Can't take my attention off Big Ugly here. Just as soon as I figure he's about to rush me, I hear the sound of a gun being cocked. Damn. Twice in one day. But this time, it ain't my hair that's bein' parted. Hah! Della's got a twelve-gage double-barreled shotgun planted on the back of Big Ugly's head. And there's a dark shape movin' out from behind her. "Make one move and I'll blow your punkin' head off," she snarls. I hear Marie gasp, but I can't take my eyes offa Ugly to see what's got her upset now. "I'll rip both of their throats out before you can pull the trigger, bitch." Now that just wasn't called for. Ugly's gonna pay for that one. "Looks like we got us a good old fashioned Mexican stand off here." Now that’s a deep growling voice that'll send shivers down your spine. Even mine. I spare a glance behind tall, blonde, and ugly, to see Hoyt has come out from the kitchen. Sonofabitch…I was right. He's part wolf...or somethin'. Looks normal from the neck up, just extra hairy, and I can't say nothin' about that. That's all you can see of him from that kitchen window of his. But those eyes of his are definitely not human. Bright yellow and filled with a danger that’s just too primitive to be human. The rest of him though, he's like every wolfman movie Hollywood ever made. Thickly muscled body, covered in dark hair, fingers that end in claws - real ones. Not like mine. And those long clawed wolf paws at the end of equally hairy wolf legs. And here I thought werewolves weren't real. Guess you learn somethin' new every day now, huh? Ugly takes a chance and glances back over to see Hoyt standin' there, looking like he just can't wait to see what his blood tastes like. Then he glances at Della, as do I, and both of us are a little surprised to see her grinning back, fangs showing…fangs? Damn, where the fuck did we end up? Transylvania? Now he's back to lookin' at me and then over at Marie. I can see her in my peripheral and she cringes away from his leer. He looks back at me. "This ain't over." "You damn right it's not," I growl back. He just grins kinda smug at me and holds up both hands then eases to the door. "See you around…Wolverine." And he's gone into the snow. Shit. Marie bolts from the booth and launches herself at me, with a strangled, "Logan." Damn she's stronger than she looks. Almost squeezes the breath out of me. I wrap both arms around her as she buries her head against my chest, rubbin' her cheek on my shirt a little. Damn, but she's shakin' hard. "S'okay, kid. I gotcha." I look over at Hoyt who's doin' the same with Della, but she ain't near as scared as Marie is. Matter of fact, she looks almost disappointed some how. Hoyt catches my eye over her head and we share a long look. I nod to him. "Thanks." "Anytime," he nods back. Then he turns Della around and looks at their other patrons. "Diner's closed." And they scurry like hell outta there. Probably won't come back either. Shame. Hoyt's a damn good cook. I wonder how he keeps the Health Department off his back. All that hair and all. Eh, not my problem. I rub Marie's back a little. "Come on, kid. Let's get to our room." She nods against me, still not lettin' me go. So I move us around toward the back of the diner. I stop long enough to pick up both duffels, her coat, and head to the back where Della pointed for us to go as she went back with Hoyt towards the kitchen. "I don't know about you, kid, but I've had enough excitement for one day." -x- Alaska Highway
Esso "Then why are you not on your way back here?" the older more cultured voice sounded on the other end of the payphone down the street. "There's a complication. The mutant's not alone." Silence. "Do you -" "Are there any others nearby," the other man cut in. "Just an older couple and some local people." "Do nothing." "But-" "I said, do nothing," he repeated, his ire showing in his voice. I cannot take the chance that our actions will alert our adversaries. Time is of the essence and this must be handled delicately, or all may be lost." The big man from the diner huffed. "Then what do you want me to do?" "Wait. For now." He fell silent again, the spoke a moment later. "Follow them tomorrow. Let them get further along on their journey. Once they're secluded, intercept them." "And then?" "Bring the mutant to me. As planned." "And what of the other?" "Dispose of…it." He growled in satisfaction. "Gladly." -x- Xavier's School
For Gifted Youngsters Sabretooth's on the move and I've got a location on the mutants he's trailing. Please meet Ororo at the jet, and intercept him. "Right away, sir. And the mutants? What about them?" There was a slight pause before Professor Xavier's voice came again. Rendezvous with them and see if they cannot be persuaded to enlighten us as to what Magneto wants with them. "And if they don't tell us or don't know?" Assist in any way possible. But Scott, it's imperative that they do not fall into Magneto's hands. "I thought you didn't know what Magneto's up to?" I don't. But anyone he wants badly enough to send Sabretooth after them in Northern Canada, is someone I'm very interested in making their acquaintance. If you leave now, you should be able to intercept them somewhere on the Trans Canada Highway 16 between Laughlin City and a small township of Carrot Creek, or just after. Unless, of course, they turn off first. Be sure to check the surrounding area. "Yes, sir. I'm on my way." Giving a small groan he glanced at the bedside clock. "Ugh. Why can't these things ever happen at a reasonable hour?" Because evil doesn't sleep. A definite disadvantage for those of us determined to oppose it. "Neither do you, Professor." He grinned at the chuckle echoing through his brain, waiting for that empty feeling that always let him know that his mentor was no longer listening in. He sat up, his sudden movement startling Jean who lay sleeping beside him. She rolled towards him. "What is it?" He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Time for me to go. Go on back to sleep. I'll be back before you know it." She smiled sleepily up at him, pushing her hair from her face, but he could see the worry in her eyes. "Be careful." The corner of his mouth cranked up in the corner in that heart stopping sexy grin of his that just melted her insides every time. "I always am. Don't worry, Jean. I'll be back before you finish breakfast." She leaned up for another kiss. "You'd better be. I hate eating alone." -x- Full Moon Diner I've finally died and gone to Hell. Not that I wasn't expectin' it. I just didn't expect it to happen so quick. Yep. Hell. Gotta be it. That or I'm goin' stark-ravin' insane. Because what sane man would be layin' in a warm bed, snow howlin' outside, with an even warmer old-eyed girl who's got a body ripe enough to tempt a saint into some serious sin? One who smells clean and fresh and oh so damn sweet that it makes my teeth ache. And other parts of my anatomy too. I wasn't kiddin' when I told her I wasn't chivalrous enough to take the torture rack of a chair or the cold-ass floor. See, I'm hot natured but if I do manage to get too cold, it pisses me off. 'Cause that ain't real comfortable. Yeah, I heal but pain is pain. And unless you get off on it, that shit hurts. Of course, I imagine that even if you do get off on it, it still hurts, but I've never met someone who liked that type of pain, so I really wouldn't know. Okay, time to reign in those thoughts. Not a good idea to be thinkin' about getting off with Marie curled up all warm and sweet smellin' beside me. Especially not after what just happened a little while ago. After the crap that went down in the diner, Marie was real shaky, you know? That guy scared her but good. And well, the fight in the bar earlier proved I don't take too well to someone scarin' her. So it doesn't really surprise me when she starts twitchin' and whimperin' in her sleep. Me, I'm still awake. Too hyped up to drop off just yet. Too much has happened today. "Wake up, Marie. Marie. Wake up. You're dreamin'." "Hhhuhnn….no…." Her voice hitches on a sob and she gets out a couple more words. "…daddy…please…" Fuck! I can't listen to this. I feel that fast flush of anger again. I don't know what her daddy did to her to make her whimper like that, like her heart's breakin', and I don't wanna know. Else, I'm gonna head down South and go huntin'. I put my hand on her arm, and rub the flannel of her pajamas a little. "C'mon, darlin', wake up." "Huh?" she sat up, pushin' all that hair outta her face and turns to look at me. "Who? Da - Logan?" Aww, fuck. She's cryin'. Huge tears just rollin' down her cheeks. Not thinkin', I reach out and pull her close. "It's okay, kid. Just a bad dream." And she lets me hold her for a split second…more like two or three…before she gasps real big and pushes me away. "Logan, no!" "I wasn't gonna -" "My skin!" She damn near yells it at me. "I told you. It'll hurt you!" Well damn. Here I was worried that she's thinkin' I'm a perv after I promised her I wasn't and she's freakin' out about me touchin' her skin because of what it'll do to me, not her. How fucked up is that? I feel a growl slip out as I give her the once over. "Look, kid. You're covered from head to toe and I ain't scared of your skin. I told ya. I heal. From everything. I wasn't gonna do anythin' to ya." "I know you weren't," she interrupts me, duckin' her head and lettin' all that hair cover her face. "I trust you." She said that back at dinner too. She trusts me. Why? I almost ask, but decide I really don't wanna know. Whatever her reason is, she's wrong. I'm not a man some kid should trust without knowin' me first. Or even after she knows me a little. But I don't wanna tell her that either. "You wanna talk about it?" That brings her head up. Surprised me too, to tell the truth. You can call me a lot of things, but chatty ain't one of them. But she's shakin' her head at me, and I can't help but feel relieved. I'd have listened. I made the offer, so I'd have listened if she'd wanted to tell me about it. I'm really glad she doesn't, though. 'Cause, I was serious about headin' down South for a huntin' trip if I had to hear whatever it was her daddy did to her. Only one of us would live through it. You get three guesses as to which one, and the first two don't count. "No," she breathes in a little shakily and tries to smile, but it ends up in a wince. "Not really." I nod at her. "Wanna watch TV for a little bit?" She manages the smile this time and nods. "Sure." "What?" "Don't care." So I flip on the television with the remote and settle it on an old sit-com rerun. "This okay?" She nods and goes to lay back down, curling up on her side facin' me, around her pillow. I lay back down too, and feel her lookin' at me. "Logan?" She says it all quiet. Kinda small soundin'. I roll my head to see her really close to me. Not touchin', not that close, but just on the next pillow kind of close. "Yeah?" She smiles a little again. "Thanks." I feel my mouth curl up into a smirk, and I give her a half snort. "Go to sleep, kid." She grins real big, then. "Marie." Bossy little thing, and it makes me smile back. "Go to sleep, Marie." And damn if she doesn't do just that. She closes those old eyes of hers, a smile still on her face, makin' her look a little sad, with the tear streaks still on her cheeks. It doesn't take her long before her breathin' evens out and she drops off again. I just listen to her breathe for a little while. Makin' good and sure she's asleep before I cut off the television. Even with the light of it gone, I can still see her okay next to me. Damn, she's young. I think. If not young, then maybe just sheltered a lot. And not for the first time, it's buggin' me that I feel so at ease with her around. I shouldn't. I don't know this kid. And she shouldn't be that at ease with me either. But we are. We've got some sort of metaphysical connection between us. Yeah, I said it. Metaphysical. Just 'cause I'm a fighter doesn't make me a moron. And while I don't usually believe in that kind of hokey shit, I can't deny that there's somethin' between Marie and me. She needs me. And somehow, I just might need her too. It's a mutual thing. Mutual need. I mean, what other explanation is there, huh? After that nightmare, you'd think she'd be too freaked out to be this close to a man she really doesn't know from Adam. What was that she said again? She trusted me. I still haven't gotten that figured out yet. She trusts me not to take advantage and not to hurt her. She's right. I wouldn't. Don't really know how she knows that, but I wouldn't. I wouldn't on general principle - remember what I said earlier about wantin' 'em willin'? - but that doesn't explain how she knows that. But she trusts me. And weird enough…I trust her too. Kinda. Hell, I told her my name. I never, never do that. But I gave it right up to her. Didn't take any effort either. It was like…like I was supposed to. I gotta get some sleep. I shift around a little, tryin' to get a little more comfortable and end up puttin' an arm up over my head. The motion musta jostled her some because she's givin' this sweet little sigh and - oh shit. Shit. Right on my chest. She's turned over, snuggled up close and put her cheek right on my shirt - on my chest. There's that sweet little sigh again. And it goes deep into me. I can feel it all the way to my bones. Yeah. I'm in Hell all right. But who'd a thought there'd be an angel here to keep me company? Uh-oh, she's makin' that scared whimper again. I put my arm around her, pull her a little closer and close my eyes as she settles back down. "It's okay, kid. Nothin' is gonna get you. Not while I'm here. Go back to sleep. I gotcha," I whisper real soft against the top of her head. No, I did not just kiss her hair. I didn't. Swear to God. Ah, fuck it. If
this is Hell, then chain me to the wall. -x- Xavier's School
For Gifted Youngsters Scott? The voice came through just as clearly as if the speaker had been standing beside him. He didn't have to answer aloud, but did it out of habit. After all these years, with both Jean and the Professor, he still wasn't quite used to merely thinking back. It felt…just…weird somehow. His face set into a grim line, he jerked on the black leather gloves and climbed up into the jet and settled himself in the pilot's seat behind the controls before answering. "Yeah?" I love you… He grinned again, turning the smile on his co-pilot, who gave a small smile back before she turned her attention to adjusting her seatbelt. He turned back to the controls, his voice a gentle murmur as he answered aloud again. "Love you too, Jean." Flipping switches on over his head, he sucked in a deep breath, stilling the building excitement that always flushed his system before heading out on a mission. Something about the starting up of the massive engines of the blackbird always psyched him up. "Ready, Storm?" "Of course," she replied perfunctorily, checking her gages. As the engines rumbled to life, and the lights came up fully on the console, Scott flashed Ororo another brilliant smile. "Let's rock and roll." -x- Full Moon Diner She's leanin' on the counter, talkin' real low to Della where I left her after we finished breakfast. Hoyt promised me he'd watch her while I went outside to dig us out of the snow, I woulnd't have left her alone in there again, if he hadn't. I can see Hoyt givin' Marie and Della a good long look, then a nod at me from the kitchen, and I nod back. We have an understandin' him and me. Keep 'em safe. No matter what. "You ready to hit the road, kid?" She turns and smiles at me kinda flirty over her shoulder. "Yeah." "Here you go, honey," Della says as she hands Marie a big bag, folded down at the top. "Somethin' to tide you over, for a bit." I pull out my wallet, but she waves me away. "On the house, sweet thing," she grins as she pushes a smaller packet of wax paper at me. "I can't -" But she's talkin' again. "Oh yes you can, sweet thing. You just bring this little gal back this way sometime and we'll call it even," she says as she smiles real big at Marie. "It's good to hear the sound of home sometimes, isn't it, honey?" "Yes ma'am." Marie's eyes go all glassy at that and she nods as she turns towards me a little. "Ready when you are, Logan." I take the bag of food from her, put my hand on the small of her back and guide her a little towards the door. But I look back at them as we walk out. "Thanks." They nod at us and we walk out into the cold. Nice couple those two. They didn't have to do what they did, givin' us a room and all that. It's real refreshin' when people do somethin' for someone else without expectin' anything back in return. They're good people. And Marie sure did like her. Hafta remember to swing back this way sometime. I leave Marie at her side of the door after unlockin' it for her, then move around the front of the truck and open it up. I put the two bags of food on the spot between the seats so she can get to it if need be. "Logan? You got any more of those sticky rolls left?" Marie smiles over the hood of the truck at me, two heavy paper cups on the hood beside her. Looks like she picked up some coffee when I wasn't lookin'. Musta been Hoyt. He took a real likin' to her too. I can see why. She's a good kid. I know I'm grinnin' like an idiot, but I toss her one of the sweet buns and couple of bacon strips Della'd wrapped up in the wax paper before we left the diner. I guess she was right, figuring Marie'd still be hungry. She catches it, palms it, and takes down the cups from the hood, tucking one in between her arm and body, and curls her hand around the other. She climbs up into the truck beside me, sets the sweet bun and bacon along with the cups on the dashboard, and straps herself in before she pulls off her gloves and dives in. Watchin' her eat for a minute, I feel kinda weird. Like this is how it's supposed to be. Yeah, right. That's it. Forget my memories. Now I'm losin' my mind. I slam the truck door, take a deep breath and close my eyes for a minute, and that sweet smell of hers hits me like a bat to the stomach. Honeysuckle. That's what it is. Same as her shampoo from last night, but more real, less chemical. That's how last night made her feel. Safe. Happy. Damn. She smells like honeysuckle when she's happy and safe feelin'. It's so thick I almost choke on it. I ain't never had someone that I made feel safe and happy before. I…I...what the fuck do I do now? Take care of her. My eyes open with a snap, wonderin' who said that. It wasn't Marie. And I damn sure don't have a funny accent like that. Plus, I didn't say nothin'. A noise catches my attention, and I look up through the windshield in time to see…somethin' in the sky overhead. Coulda sworn it was some type of plane. A jet or somethin'. But I ain't never seen a jet that looked like that before. I look around some more, but whatever it was, it's gone now. "Somethin' wrong, Logan?" "Nah, just thought I saw somethin' there for a minute." I glance over at her, those big old eyes of hers peepin' over the edge of that sweet bun at me, once again, remindin' me of how young she is, even if she won't tell me. Yet. She will when she's ready. Dunno how I know that, but I do. She'll tell me everythin' when she's ready. Know it like I know my own name…well, that ain't really sayin' much, but you get the picture. "You ready to get outta here, darlin'?" "Mmm-hmph," she mumbles around the sweet bun, and I have to grin at her, 'cuz she's got cinnamon on the end of her nose. I almost reach out to wipe it off, but stop myself in time. Her skin. She says it hurts folk. But I heal from anythin', so I ain't real concerned over it. We didn't have any problems with it last night. Still, don't wanna scare her off. She holds out her hand, and hands me my cup, the one obviously bigger than the other. "Thanks." I take the cup from her and take a drink, surprised she got it right the first time. "Not bad." "Black. Two sugars. That's right, isn't it?" she asks as she takes a sip of her juice. Setting the cup in the holder on the floor between us, I nod and crank the truck. "Yep." She grins back at me, those old eyes of her just dancing, and my gut says she's thinkin' about last night. She's not the only one. I woke up curled around her from behind, her gloved hands clenchin' tight on my hands that I had wrapped around her middle, my nose buried in her hair, her bottom pressed snug against my hips…hoo, boy…real nice. And it was about more than I could stand, caught myself breathin' her in again, diggin' my nose deeper in her hair before I could stop myself. I knew she was awake when I eased out of bed, but she didn't say anythin' about it. So I wasn't gonna either. No need. That's the last time we share a bed. Good intentions or not, too young or not, that ain't a chance I should be takin'. Hey, I am man, ya know. But the weirdest part of last night? No nightmares. For me, I mean. Not a damn one. I've had nightmares about drownin' and bein' alive while someone cut me up and that damn laughter every night as long as I can remember. Which ain't long, like I said before. They didn't come last night. It's almost like she kept 'em away somehow. But that's impossible, right? "We make a good team." I laugh at that as we sit there, letting the engine rumble while it warms up. "Yeah, I guess we do." I know damn well she doesn't mean that the way I'm thinkin' about it. How could she? She's just a kid. And there is no team. She's not gonna stick around. I shouldn't want her to. But I do. Still…"There's another town about eighty kilometers down the road…if you were thinkin' -" "I was thinkin' about goin' to Alaska. You ever been there?" She stares at me with somethin' in her eyes that I can't read. Somethin' she wants but is afraid to ask for. Shit but it's gettin' easy to read her. Should that worry me? It doesn't. Maybe that should worry me. But I'm getting' real close to not carin' about what does and doesn't worry me anymore as far as she's concerned. I nod. "Yeah. It's nice. Real pretty." "You interested in goin' back anytime soon?" Hope. That's what that look is. Like she's finally made a connection somehow. How can I say no to that? Easy. I can't. 'Cuz I understand it too well. "Sounds good to me, kid," I answer as I pull the truck out of the parking lot and back on the road. "Marie," she reminds me. Did I mention she's a bossy little thing? "Marie." I can't help but grin back at her, as I take the turn off of Highway 16 onto 22, which'll take us right to Whitecourt and then on to Highway 43. And from there? Alaska. So here we are, riding the road together, no clue what we're doing, where we're going other than in the vague direction of Alaska, or what we're gonna do once we get there. But I do know one thing. I can't just drop her at the next town, even if she changes her mind and asks me to. And I'm not so sure I want to either. She's just a kid, so it shouldn't be too hard to convince her to stay if I put my mind to it. Kids attract trouble. And somethin' in my gut tells me this one is gonna attract more than her fair share. Big Ugly back in the diner proved that. She's gonna need someone to look out for her. To take care of her. Protect her. And somehow that job has landed in my lap. Oh well. I've done worse grunt jobs. She's a good kid. And she needs me. Besides, I like her. But she's gonna get me in trouble too, this one. I grin into the side mirror as I check the road behind us. I like trouble. It's what I'm best at. She's staring at me again. And somehow, this time, I don't mind so much. "What?" She gives me a little half smile and sideways glance that's far to adult-like for a girl her age as she nibbles on a piece of bacon. More teasin' in that look than a kid like her should do alone with a man like me and says, "You know, you really should wear your seatbelt." <End> |
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