What a fucked up day!

Logan tossed his jacket onto the counter and pulled the door to the refrigerator open praying there was a beer left in there somewhere, but not holding out any hope…After all the place was crawling with teenagers.

It pretty much guaranteed that any alcoholic beverage left unattended was quickly the focus of a concerted teen mutant mission which called for every stealthy and diversionary mutant’s participation. Rogue usually played the part of hapless southern bell when it was up to her crowd to pilfer the Molson’s.

Logan had caught on almost immediately the first time she’d used her wiles on him, but he could tell she was trying hard to fit in with the kids her age. So, Logan had played dumb and Marie had thanked him so fervently with her solemn eyes his chest hurt. The Professor may have gotten Rogue settled in the dorm ‘just like a normal mutant’ but he couldn’t make the girl friends. Besides, she had more than a fair share of his memories and with them a taste for a nice fat smoke and a bottle or two of the good stuff.

Slamming the door on the barren shelves he grabbed his jacked and turned to find Hank leaning against the door jamb with a bottle of 12 years old scotch and an envelope; it was kind of ominous really. Logan wasn’t sure which put the fear in him more the envelope or the fact that what was in it warranted 12 years old scotch. “Henry,” he growled.

Logan’s use of his name shocked the blue-furred man for a moment but only a moment, because Hank knew better than most that the caustic nicknames were a sign of semi-affection which would be denied unto death. The use of his given name was a sign that Logan understood that the situation was grave indeed.

“Logan,” Hank straightened and stepped into the room.

Logan turned and pulled two tumblers from the cabinet and plunked them down on the table. Both men stared pensively at the glasses for a moment before Hank spoke again. “It has been an unaccountably difficult decision…This,” he lifted the envelope for Logan to see. “However, when Charles came to me three days ago he told me that I would know when to give this to you.”

“And you think that now is the right time,” Logan asked as he pulled out a chair and dropped heavily into it making the wood creak under his weight. Reaching out he grasped the bottle of scotch and left Hank holding the envelope; pouring three fingers in both glasses as he watched the frown mare the blue furred face.

“I am quite sure that now is most assuredly the wrong time.” Placing the file on the table Hank grasped his glass and downed the contents in one go before setting it down and nudging it toward Logan for a refill. The second went the way of the first and then with an uncharacteristic shaking hand he placed the glass one the table and slide the envelope in front of Logan before he walked out of the kitchen.

Frowning, Logan took a deep steadying breathe absently fingering the glass of scotch before pushing it aside and wrapping his fingers around the thick envelope he pulled out a file that bore a US military seal. It was there right in front of him; his past all wrapped up in a governmental seal and Logan could not fathom ever wanting to know what it contained.

He’d almost worked up the nerve to lift the cover when giggling in the hall caught his attention. Taking a whiff he smelled the ice pop and the girlish scent belonging to the tittering laugh could come from only one person, Kitty Pride.

They were whispering as they left through one of the garden doors and Logan fought the urge to impale the dumb shit on the business end of his claws. That little fuck was going to hurt Marie; Logan had known that from the minute he’d set eyes on the frostbitten boy and Rogue nearly a year ago. He had also known that he couldn’t save her from this heart break without damaging the bond they shared and that was one thing Logan would protect as fiercely as he would protect Marie.

So, here he sat knowing that the otter pop and one of Marie’s supposed friends were out for a little moonlight…Whatever the hell kids called it now.

As a distraction he added another way to torture the ice cube when the idiot made the inevitable mistake of breaking Marie’s heart. He’d decided that he would flay the little ice prick’s skin off and then pour salt on him. Would that make his power stronger or weaker after all the addition to salt lowered the freezing point of water…Hmmm…Maybe vinegar would be a better choice.

“Hey,” Marie’s voice at the door pulled him from his musings and he glanced up to find her standing in the shadows, but he didn’t need to see her face to know that there were tears in her eyes and drying on her cheeks. “What’cha thinkin’ about?”

“I’m trying to decide if I should use vinegar or salt on my ice sculpture.” His comment surprised a burst of laughter from Marie that quickly twisted in her throat to sound like a pained moan. “Come ‘ere, kid.” Logan hooked his foot on the chair beside him and pulled it toward him, “Let’s have a drink.”

He watched her until she settled into the chair and then pulled it even closer. She’d fidgeted with her gloves all the way across the room and then sat stiffly on the edge of the chair as though afraid to touch him. In his mind he added a blow torch to his scenario.

“Logan,” she gasped when she saw the file in front of them.

“Charles left it for me,” he muttered, absently lifting his hand to her shoulder to finger the white strands that defined her. She’d only flinched a little bit and it ticked him off all the more because she’d been getting used to being touched casually. “Want to talk about it?”

“The file,” she murmured deliberately misunderstanding.

“No, darlin’, dumbass.” He growled, lowly.

“Bobby ain’t a dumbass,” she sighed. “I saw ‘im kissin’ Kitty.”

“Marie,” Logan growled softly as the pain she felt leeched into the air between them.

“He’s a normal boy and normal boys want things; things ah can’t give.”

“That’s no excuse, Marie.”

“Ah know,” she muttered in a tight voice. “I’ve been thinkin’ about all that stuff we talked about when the word about a cure first came out.”

“Well,” Logan nodded as he nudged to glass full of scotch toward her; she picked it up and took a deep swallow. He was perversely proud and dismayed that she didn’t seem fazed by the liquor’s bite.

“I ain’t decided yet,” she murmured as she handed the glass to him. “You opened it yet? It says James ‘Logan’ Howlett is that yer name?”

“Nope,” it was his turn to mutter as he finished off the amber liquid and put the glass down with a thud. “And I ain’t sure.”

Pulling her gloves off Marie let her fingers caress the smooth surface of the bottle and then picked it up and poured another draught into their shared glass.

“Only one way to find out,” her quiet words trembling out; Logan thought she sounded nearly as frightened as he was.

“Yeah,” he agreed as he picked up the glass and held it to Marie’s lips; meeting his gaze she opened her mouth accepting the drink. Logan tilted the glass and watched as she closed her eyes and drank another generous gulp.

When he moved it away a drop dribbled onto her lip and he watched as her pink little tongue slipped out and rescued the perilously perched droplet. Wolverine quickly downed the rest and set the glass aside. He didn’t put it to far away because he was pretty sure that this file would merit at least the rest of the bottle of scotch.

“Do the honors,” he gestured and was glad to see her bare fingers glide over the tattered cover.

“Ya sure,” she asked as her fingertips traced the edge to the upper right corner and grasped the thick card stock between two elegant digits.

“Yeah, darlin’,” he nodded. They both held their breath as she pulled it open and both seemed slightly disconcerted that nothing exploded upon the opening.

“James 'Logan' Howlett,” Marie read her finger tracing the words on the page as she did so. “Well, damn…1837. I gotta say ya look mighty fine fer ya age, Sugah”

Logan wanted to be able to laugh at the lightly teasing words but he felt as though his chest was being squeezed by a vice; could he have a heart attack? He knew his healing kept him pretty damn fit, but could shock induce a heart attack?

He’d assumed he was older than the professor, that wasn’t what caused his body to react so; it was what the file outlined mid-way down the page that had him shakily pouring another glass of scotch. It was fuckin’ useless because his body cleared it before the effects could be felt, but hell he could give intoxication his damnedest effort.

Marie had evidently found that line because she gasped, “Victor Creed; Logan ain’t that…”

“Sabertooth,” he growled as he emptied the glass.

“Y’all are half-brothers,” Marie stated what was staring them in the face in all its black and white glory.

“You sure you want to know what’s in here,” he asked gruffly, “Can’t imagine things gettin’ better from this point on.”

“Yes,” she scooted closer and placed a comforting hand on his knee. “I know ya, Logan. This pile o’ paper, it won’t change that and I would hope ya’d trust me to be there for ya, to help ya handle everythin’, yer mah friend, Logan...Me with my poisoned skin and you with your metal claws.”

“Thanks, darlin’!” Logan hugged her to him for a moment and then flipped the file closed and stood up startling Rogue with the abrupt movements. Giving her a sad sort of smile Logan picked up the file and pointed his chin at the bottle and glass. “Grab those,” he murmured quietly. “You’ve had your fill, but I might need the rest.”

“Where are we goin’,” she asked as she jogged to keep up with his longer, more powerful stride toward the garage.

“I ain’t decided yet,” he murmured as he stalked along the down stairs hall. “I’m guessin’ you won’t want to sleep in your room with the little home wrecker and I don’t particularly want to sit in Charles’ house at the moment.”

“It ain’t Kitty’s fault,” Rogue muttered. She nearly slammed into Logan’s back when he stopped suddenly in front of her. “Logan-“

“Marie, who is at fault if the Ice Prick isn’t and it ain’t the little Kitkat’s fault,” he growled as he turned to face her, “Who, might I ask, is?”

“Logan,” she sighed, closing her eyes and looking away from him.

“That’s what I thought,” Logan muttered as he turned away. “Let’s go!”

“Logan,” Marie called as she hurried to catch up.

“Not now,” he ground out as he wrenched open the door to the garage and quickly found the keys to the vehicle that he usually used when he wasn’t out to annoy Scooter.

With a flick of a button the car started and Logan was in the driver’s seat with Marie settling in beside him. He didn’t say a word as she put the bottle of scotch between her feet on the floorboard and fastened her seatbelt.

They were soon on the road with nothing but the sound of squealing tires and the rumble of the engine disturbing the quiet night.

Logan was still angry. He wasn’t sure if it was really the fact that Charles had known all along who and what he was and he’d kept it from him or if it was the fact that the bold megalomaniac, that’s what he was after all. By binding Jeannie’s mind and doling out peoples pasts like they were breadcrumbs he had proven he was not much different from Magneto or Stryker. Logan had to wonder if the man hadn’t deliberately set out to isolate Rogue.

He couldn’t fathom how she could possibly think she was at fault for the loose morals of two of the school’s most prized students. When they got back to the school Logan was going to go through every damned drawer, file and computer. If he found anything that could have been used to help Marie feel less like a prisoner of her own skin he was going to insure that anyone complicit in her seclusion paid, and paid dearly.

“Logan,” the quiet murmur of Marie’s voice cut across his rapidly darkening thoughts.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“There’s a motel up ahead,” she sounded tired and her speech was still a little slurred. “Or are we gonna drive all night?” Glancing at her Logan could see that she wasn’t up for a twelve hour drive and he couldn’t put off reading that file any longer.

“Nah,” he answered as he let one of his hands fall from the wheel and find her silk covered fingers. “We’ll stop.”

“Okay,” she nodded, threading her fingers with his and tightening her grasp. “I think it’s time ya find out what Charles knew.”

Rogue sat cross-legged on the bed beside Logan; they had a system going, he would read a page and then pass it to her. It was wroking well until about an hour earlier when Logan had begun to stack the finished pages to his left, away from her. Marie had to wonder what was so bad that the information contained in them needed to be kept away from her.

It wasn’t like his life had been pretty up to this point in the file and he hadn’t balked when he handed her the pages regarding his family. In fact he hadn’t even flinched when he gave her the page detailing his mutation’s manifestation and killing the man that turned out to be his real father.

So far, they’d made it through the transcripts dealing with the American Civil, all the way up to Vietnam. It was easy to see that Logan had willingly taken part in the interviews along with his half brother, Victor.

It was also evident that Logan was protective of his older sibling and even voiced his concerns about Victor’s mental state; Logan explain that they were both exhibiting signs of mental distress after having gone through so many traumatic years.

Logan complained of nightmares ranging from instances in all the wars that he awoke from in a rage more often than not. Victor, however, seemed to have assimilated his traumas into an animalistic bloodlust that even Logan couldn’t cage.

“Fuck,” Logan snarled, pushing his legs off the bed and slamming the file down in his place. He began pacing the room like a caged animal. If he didn’t calm down he would be popping his claws and destroying something he didn’t want to have to explain or pay for; placing the page she was reading on the finished stack she approached him, palms up.

“Logan,” Marie murmured, moving to stand in front of him. The look in his eyes was devastating, haunted, when he met her gaze. Taking his nearest hand in her gloved ones she gently stroked it hoping to sooth him.

After a few minutes Logan closed his eyes and took a couple of calming, deep breaths. “That’s right, Sugah, just relax. Ya need to calm down or yer gonna break somethin’ if ya don’t and I know ya don’t wanna have to explain to the motel manager in the mornin’ why ya turned his furniture into kindling wood.”

“Marie,” he sighed as he twisted his hand to grasp her hands bringing them to his lips he kissed the silk covered knuckles of each before opening his eyes to meet her worried gaze.

“What, Sugah,” she gently extracted her gloved hands from his, cupping his cheek and caressing the side of his neck in a gentling fashion. “Nothin’ is gonna make me run from ya; you and me we’re in this together.”

She watched as he took a deep breath and nodded, his voice was gruff with emotion when he finally spoke. “I volunteered,” he swallowed hard before turning away from her, “I practically fucking begged them to do this to me.” The distinctive snikt-sound of his claws being released was loud in the room.

Marie figured he would have had to volunteer the empty bottle of scotch was evidence enough if you thought about it.

“I know,” she murmured, moving to press her forehead into his shirt covered back and run a gloved hand down his arm to his hand. Almost as if the stroke of her fingers triggered it the claws slid back into their flesh and blood sheath. “I sorta figured it had to be yer choice; ya can’t be sedated can ya, Sugah. The only times I have ever seen ya out cold was when ya took heavy damage to the head or got it in yer brain to lay hands on me.”

“Do you know why I did it,” he growled, his hand flexing into a fist again.

“No,” she shook her head. “It don’t really matter, the why of it, not to me.”

“So, you don’t want to know?”

“Of course I do,” she snapped. “It just don’t make no difference in how I see ya understand? You kept those pages from me, so you must not want to share that part, and I can wait until yer ready to tell me.”

Nodding Logan stepped away from her toward the bed to gather the pages he’d finished reading; straightening the stack he turned back to her offering them to her.

“Long story short,” he muttered. “Stryker recruited us after the incident in Vietnam and we became part of a mutant task force. It evidently didn’t take me long to figure out it was a government sanctioned shit fest; according to the files I quit, left the team and my brother behind on Lagos. I drifted around for a bit, but they never had eyes off of me. I settled in the Canadian Rockies and worked with a logging crew…I met a local school teacher that turned out to not be so local. She was working with Stryker, some deal regarding her sister; they staged her murder at the hands of Victor and then sat back waiting for me to try and take him out.”

Marie reached out and took the papers and the set them aside as she listened to the emotionless way he related the facts of the experimentation done on him. “After I failed Stryker offered me everything I would need to take
Victor down and I was gagging for it when they did the procedure. Some doctor, Dr. Carol Frost, in the files said I refused to delay the start of the program so they could explain what would be done.”

“Is that what happened to yer memory,” she asked as she cleared all the papers from the bed and gave him a gentle push towards it.

“No,” Logan answered letting her nudge him onto the bed. Laying down he settled on the far side of the bed and turned on his side away from her. “I haven’t gotten to that point in the file yet, but according to the surviving medical and military staff at the facility I became enraged and escaped upon hearing Stryker ordering the doctors to erase my memories. Stryker must have finally succeeded at some point, but I haven’t read that far yet.”

Marie turned out the light and climbed into the bed behind him. Hesitating only slightly she wrapped her arm around his waist, “You can read the rest tomorrow after the funeral, but we both need some rest about now.”

“Yeah,” Logan agreed.

They lay quietly for what seemed like hours, but were really only a few tension filled minutes, before Logan’s voice disturbed the quiet, “Tomorrow, while you’re at the funeral, I’m going to search the Professor’s office.”

“For what,” she asked confused. “You think he kept something else from you?”

“I think,” he started and then hesitated. “I am not positive, but I-I think he might have information that could help you.”

Marie jerked slightly as his words sank in, “Me, but why wouldn’t the Professor tell me if he could help with mah mutation?”

Logan stiffened beneath her gloved hand before grounding out, “Why would he hide my past from me? Why would he cage Jean’s true mutation instead of helping her to control her mind? Instead he locked her mutation up inside her head along with her more feral side and turned her into a shadow of her real self.”

“Yer right,” Maria acknowledged. “It was kind of a naïve question, huh?”

“No, Darlin’,” he denied, twining his fingers with hers over his stomach. “It’s trusting. Try and get some sleep now.”

Marie closed her eyes and shifted a little closer to Logan’s back, she needed his warmth because she was suddenly very cold. They lay there both pretending to sleep and both knowing that it was impossible. How had things gone so crazy in just a few days time?

As the light of the rising sun cut a fiery path across the motel bed Marie was sure of one thing, Logan was the only person she could trust. Making up her mind she decided that today she would be Rogue; untouched by those that had hurt her in the past, only Logan had not lied to her or broken her trust and only Logan would know the real her.

Without a word they packed up Logan’s past and left the motel on the road back to the Mansion.

Marie stood under the nearly scalding spray of the shower until it began to chill; bath time, for her, was a decadent pleasure. It was the only time all of her was allowed to breathe and feel anything other than the stifling confines of her clothes.

Today, she took particular care to dry her pale skin with the fluffiest, white towel and then smooth a mildly spicy lotion over her exposed flesh.

When they arrived at the school Logan walked her to the door to her shared room, and then, without saying a single word he left her to get ready for the coming funeral. Frowning she picked up her under things; slowly stepping into the silk panties she watching her progress in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

Meticulously, she slipped her bra straps over her shoulder, adjusting the cups giving her breasts the support and structure needed to define her cleavage. She would wear the black blouse with the v-neck, but she add the longest of her scarves as a reminder to everyone that they could look but not touch.

Sitting on the small bench in front of the vanity she carefully rolled her black stockings up her legs; eyeing them critically she wished she could find the kind that were held up by garters, but on second though decided it wouldn’t matter anyway. Standing again she pulled the blouse on and then wiggled into the ankle length black skirt; it had a kick pleat in back for ease of movement.

Really, the effect was almost like something from the 40’s; it was a good thing retro was in.

Lightly applying make up to disguise her sleepless night she smoothed her hair into a straight fall of dark tresses and positioned her silver-white locks on either side of her face. Lastly, Rogue zipped on her chunky boots and donned her dark cloak raising the hood to frame her face.

“Rogue,” Kitty’s irritated voice cut through the door. “I need to get in there too you know!”

Checking her appearance in the mirror one last time in the mirror on the door Marie slipped to the back of her mind and with a solemn expression Rogue stepped forward.

Opening the door she didn’t spare a glance for the other girl as she left the room and made her way to the community room. There was no kiss, no lies or ice skating on a frozen fountain between them; just the untouchable one. Rogue.

It was easier than he thought it would be, getting into the Professor’s office, and even simpler to find the file marked, ‘Rogue’.

It wasn’t even in a locked drawer, testament to the old mutant’s perceived power. The file wasn’t as thick as the one Hank had given him, but it was just as thorough. It outlined Marie’s history prior to the manifestation of her mutation and went on to detail her life post activation.

The last page of the file sent a chill down his spine and made the feral side of him rear its enraged head. There in clinical terms and signed by both Jean Grey and Charles Xavier was a highly detailed genetic analysis of Rogues mutation along with a note in red.

It simply read, ‘Because of her mutation’s strength ‘the girl’ should be closely monitored to ensure adequate X-Protocols remained in place in the event that Termination became necessary.’

Shaking with barely concealed rage Logan closed the file and then double checked the drawer in to be sure he had every scrap of paper with Rogue’s name on it; that done he opened the drawer that corresponded with his name and flipped through the files until he found a second file that appeared to be identical to the one Hank had given him the night before. He didn’t even have to think about it, Logan added it to the pile on top of the gleaming mahogany desk, file was coming with him.

The search for the X-Protocols was unfruitful and it pissed him off. He would need to access the mansion’s mainframe, but that would have to wait; the funeral was probably nearing a close and he’d need to make an appearance. Taking the stack of files he’d gathered he left the office and quickly stowed them in his duffle.

Pulling out a cigar he clamped it between his teeth and silently exited into the garden where the entire school gathered to mourn the lost Professor. When Logan’s eyes found Rogue, because that was who she was at that moment, he felt an overwhelming sadness. She’d expected these people to help her and the truly fucked up truth was that he’d expected the same damned thing.

As if sensing him Rogue turned and caught his gaze; nodding slightly he tried to reassure her, but she could tell he hadn’t liked what he found. Their gaze never faltered and when the last tearful good bye was uttered from the podium Rogue stood up and made her way to him.

Logan placed a hand at the small of her back and pushed her toward the door, “go pack your things, Darlin’ and if anyone asks you and me are headed for parts south for a few weeks. I have someone I want to have a chat with and then we can be on our way.”

“Of course,” she agreed and then moved to comply. Unaccountably, Logan felt bone deep terror at the thought of her alone in the mansion. Growling he caught her arm stopping her in her tracks, “Logan,” she asked sounding confused.

“Never mind what I said,” he ground out. “I’ll go with you to pack and then we’ll go find Dr. McCoy.” Rogue didn’t question his words; Logan’s paranoiac frame of mind had penetrated her own mood and she found that she was happy he would be there to watch her back.

Packing didn’t take as long as she’d expected; really she didn’t have much besides clothing and a few books. So, it was that she was following Logan as he ‘hunted’ the Beast. It was hardly surprising that they found him in the underground lab, but his appearance was quite a shock.

It was readily apparent that the bottle of scotch delivered with Logan’s file the night before was not the end of the good doctor’s supply. Hank’s normally immaculately groomed visage was disheveled and he reeked of alcohol.

“Ah, dear friends, I was expecting you.” The man’s speech though emotive sounded perfectly sober and Logan was perversely pleased that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get a good drunk on.

“Ya know why we’re here,” Rogue asked, feeling slightly put out that of the three people in the room only she was clueless as to the reason for the pow-wow.

“Of course,” Hank nodded as he stood swaying slightly.

Logan re-evaluated the man’s sobriety, but then decided it would be to Hank’s advantage to appear incapacitated by drink.

“Well,” Logan growled flexing his fingers as though trying to alleviate an itch. “The file didn’t mention anything other than researching ‘possible mutually beneficial solutions’, but I’d put my money on the fact it didn’t stay just research for long.”

“Just so,” Hank acknowledged as he moved to the far wall and placed a furred hand on the smooth metallic surface. He was greeted by a feminine voice, ‘Welcome, Doctor.’

Hank made a sweeping gesture with his arm, “After you.”
Logan frowned, but clasped Marie’s hand in his more tightly. Together, Rogue and Logan entered a lab that made the one on the other side of the wall look like the dark ages.

Hank McCoy was by no means a fool and would not make the same mistake others had in regard to Logan. He’d known Xavier took for granted Logan’s true intellect; the man had lived for more than a century and a half and he may have had his memories stolen from him, but some knowledge gained through life experience was inherent.

Hank had tried to explain this to Xavier, on more than one occasion, the extent to which Wolverine’s mutation would go to protect him, but Charles’ ambivalence had blinded him to Logan’s true gifts.

Pushing the pain of loss and the feeling of having played too large a role in events that were, essentially none of his business, Hank immediately retrieved the two items he’d been ordered to keep hidden.

It felt strange, almost anarchical, to be disregarding orders but then Charles was dead now and Hank had never truly agreed with the other man’s arbitrary handling of the mutants in his charge.

Gesturing for the two mutants to step closer Hank placed first one item and then the other onto the stainless steel counter.

Both seemed to study the incongruent items, but it was Rogue who asked, “What are they?”

“These,” Hank fingered the glass cylinder filled with a pulsing blue material; his right hand caressed the glass. He knew what was contained within the glass was the best and most dangerous option, but Logan was exceedingly angry as it was and Hank would not give him further cause to distrust the X-Men. Smiling, if a bit sadly, he nudged the metal device toward her as he spoke, “are the two ways I have found to control your mutation.”

“Ah d-don’t understand,” Maria stuttered. She stared wide-eyed at the innocuous items before her; Logan had said it, but in her heart she hadn’t wanted to believe Professor Xavier would be so cruel as to with hold a cure from her. “Y’all had the cure all this time and ya kept it from me?” Marie almost didn’t recognize her own voice; it had grown quite shrill as she spoke.

Hank’s face was first shocked and then embarrassed, “no, child. Heavens, these are not cures. At best they are stop-gaps.”

“Explain it to her, Fuzz-ball,” Logan growled as he bracketed her shoulders with his hands.

“To put it simply,” Hank began in lecture-mode. “Mutations in fully formed life forms can no more be ‘cured’ than can eye or hair color. These things can be manipulated on a cellular level in undeveloped genetic material but are irreversible once the being has been formed and the trait manifested.”

“But they was sayin’ on the news that-“

“I’m sorry, Rogue.” Hank interrupted her as gently as he could, “There is no miracle cure that can remove your mutation. Mutations are congenital, that means that the predisposition is present at birth, and though the condition can be altered artificially, suppressed or augmented, it cannot be eradicated.”

“Then- Then I won’t ever be free of this-this-“

Seeing the tears pooling in Rogues eyes Hank sighed, “Dear child, you need not be sad.” Flashing an encouraging smile he pushed both of the items he’d gathered earlier toward her. “This device is a neuo-implant; which, is designed to be surgically placed intra-cranially.”

“Over your rotting corpse,” Logan’s menacing growl startled both Rogue and Hank. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Logan would surely make the statement reality if he tried to implant the device. Secretly, Hank was pleased; he felt the inhibitor to be a barbaric machination. “And that,” Logan asked as he lifted his chin to indicate the glass vial.

“This is a specimen obtained quite recently from a being seeking asylum here,” Hank handed the container to Rogue and immediately the bright blue pulsing goo turned pallid green. “As you can see the being has highly developed mimicry skills; as even this severed tissue is able to take on the physical characteristics of those in close proximity.”

“You keep saying being,” Logan ground out arching a brow in question.

“Come now, Logan, surely you know that there are many things under heaven,” Hank chided gently. “This particular being has uncharted mimicry capabilities and has unparalleled telepathic and cognitive abilities.”

Rogue stared at the sickly green substance with a frown, “What will this do?”

“It is my hypothesis that should you let your mutation absorb the residual life force found in this tissue it would be the impetus for a leap forward in the progression of your mutation. Xavier and I have often postulated that the inability to control your rapidly manifesting powers must be psychological in nature. Either some trauma occurred that has convinced your subconscious that to be incapable of touch is the only way to protect yourself or it might be as simple as having not gained sufficient control of your own brain in order to allow absorption, assimilation and control. Either way, touching the tissue in that container and extracting every ampoule of cognizance will unlock centers of your brain that are necessary to control your.”

“That sounds positively rosy,” Logan countered, his hands tightening slightly on her shoulders.

“Don’t get me wrong; side effects are a given,” Hank qualified. “As with any finagling of one’s DNA there is the chance that the situation will inadvertently make things worse, but even with the risks and the possibility of failure I believe that this will be what Rogue has been searching for so fervently.”

“What sort of side effects are you talking about?” Marie’s voice was calm and her hand steady as she held the vial up for a closer look.

“I compiled a chart of probable outcomes and Cerebro ran projected variations, listing any and all permutations.”
Hank pulled a thick sheave of computer print outs from a nearby drawer. “The sheer number of probable-“

“Stop,” Logan held up a hand. “Just hit the highlights.”

“Such as,” Hank asked with an insulted air about him.

“Such as,” Rogue answered for Logan, “Could it kill me, will I turn this horrid shade of green and could I end up in the Mutant’s version of a loony bin?”

Hank chuckled at that, “No, maybe for a short time and only if you wish to visit one.”

“So, if it won’t kill her, turn her into a leprechaun or drive her crazy, what are the top three most likely outcomes?”

“There is a 95% chance that the absorption will unlock parts of the brain never before accessed enabling Rogue the ability to categorize the usurped psyche, manifest previously absorbed mutations and effectively turn her mutation on and off.” Hank prattled on for a moment before ending with, “In only 3% of the projections was Rogue able to utilize the shape-shifting or rather the mimicry aspects to any real advantage.”

Logan could feel Marie’s pulse pounding beneath her clothes and he knew that the siren call of control over her mutation was echoing through her brain. So, it was hardly a surprise when she blurted, “What do ah have to do?”

“Give us a minute, Henry.” Logan ordered sternly.

“Of course,” the furred man left through the same door they’d entered only minutes before.

“Logan,” Marie turned to face him dislodging her hood as she readied herself for a fight. “Ya have no right to make my decision for me.”

The man in question simply raised his hand to forestall any further blustering on Marie’s part. “I’m not your father, so you're right there, I don’t have the right. What I am though is your friend and I thought that as your friend we could discuss what all this means.”

Marie blushed, and glanced away from his face for a moment. “Ah’m sorry…That was wrong of me to jump to conclusions.”

“Its water, Marie, just like all the times I bit your head off after a long trip to nowhere and finding nothing.”

“Thanks,” she smiled her sweet smile; the one that never failed to burn a hole through his heart.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, tucking the silvery-white lock of hair behind her ear. “As your friend I need to say that I hope you aren’t thinking of going through with this for some boy.”

“Ah’m not,” she denied. “I realized last night that Bobby has feelings for Kitty. He took her ice skating and kissed her…We’re through.”

“Not that I am trying to change your mind about Ice Prick, but guys don’t necessarily have to have feelings for a girl to kiss her and sadly most guys think that feelings originate below their belt.”

“Yeah,” she blushed prettily and smacked Logan on the shoulder. “Ah get the picture, Sugar. Ah ain’t doin’ this fer Bobby or anyone else. Ah hate not bein’ able to touch and be touched; it’s like ah am trapped in my own body and no one can reach me and I can’t reach them. I need this, Logan.”

Logan nodded, “Then I want you to absorb some of my healing before you try absorbing that goo.”

“No, ah can’t do tha-,” Marie tried to deny him, but he stepped closer to her cupping her cheeks with her hair as protection.

“I promised to take care of you,” he spoke determinedly.

“Ya have,” Marie sighed. “You have taken care of me, but I need to take care of you, too.”

“Marie,” Logan spoke almost desperately. “Things are heating up and when it hits the fan it is going to be one massive shit storm; I need to know you’ll have my healing when you convert. Please, darlin’, let me do this.”

Looking into his eyes Marie could see Logan’s desperation and it was kind of thrilling in a way having a man like him desperate for her welfare. She nodded, “But only if ya promise not to touch me again after the goo and only for a few seconds. I don’t want to kill ya or put you in a coma either.”

“Thank you,” Logan smiled, a genuine smile, and then he leaned down and kissed her.

“Stupid” *Thwack*

“Brainless” *Thwack*

“Idiotic” *Thwack*

“Addlebrained” *Thwack*

“Half-Witted” *Thwack*

“Come on now, Darlin’,” Logan never thought he’d hear that timbre of pleading in his voice, but then again he never thought he’d be on this side of Marie. Who would have thought such a little bitty thing could pack such a punch. And he wasn’t talking about the tiny fist rhythmically punctuating each seething-ly drawn out word.

Just the briefest, barest touch of his lips to her smooth as silk forehead put him on the ground faster than six bottles of Hank’s finest. He thought he was making progress this time he hadn’t ended up in a coma or seizing on the floor, just lost his footing for a moment and his knees met floor.

She’d agreed; Logan didn’t understand what the fuss was about. He’d bussed her temple and she’d gotten his healing as planned; he thought she’d be happy he hadn’t been harmed but as soon as she was confident she hadn’t done him any lasting harm she’d started in with the name calling…And the punching.

“Don’t you, Darlin’ me you-you foolish, moronic and asinine…” *Thwack**Thwack**Thwack*

“Marie,” Logan sighed exasperated, “Just stop you’re gonna hurt your hand.”

“Tin-headed, ignorant…” * Thwack**Thwack*

“Heel of your palm, Dar-er Marie, like I taught you…”
That got more of a response as Marie growled, literally, and Logan was hard pressed not to beam with pride as she grumbled and nearly hissed. This time when her hand made contact it was the heel of her palm to his left ear and it hurt like hell. “Yeah, like that, baby.”

“Logan,” she hissed as she thumped him on the chest. “You make me so angry!”

“I don’t see why,” he was truly clueless. “We talked about it, you agreed and I did what we decided.”

Logan wasn’t sure if it was the widening of Marie’s eyes for a millisecond or the way she stopped thumping him in the chest that clued him in to his emanate ruin; either way he knew Marie was getting ready to bring out the big guns. It may have been the startled and fearful look that crossed Hank’s face before he beat a hasty retreat. Yeap, he was a goner. He was proven correct when she spoke, “I could ‘ave killed ya.”

“Now, Darlin’,” he sighed.

“I wasn’t expectin’ ya to go an’ touch me first chance ya got,” her voice wavered and she turned away from him. Were those tears? He hadn’t meant to make her cry. He could take her ranting and her punching, but tears; it was like Chinese water torture.

“I know,” he muttered guiltily. “I honestly thought we’d settled it.”

“Well, we didn’t!”

“Yeah, Marie, we did.” Logan stepped up to her and took her shoulders in his hands; the way she flinched hurt deep. “I ain’t a man to pussy-foot around. We talked, you agreed and I did it. I guess I could have given ya some warning, but I thought we had an understanding. I’m sorry that I blind-sided you.”

“I hate ta see ya hurt,” her voice trembled as she spoke and Logan sighed again. Pulling her back into his chest he carefully wrapped one of his arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I just reacted; things are happening right now that we ain’t gonna be able to walk away from unscathed. Magneto is goin’ to force a conflict…Mutants against humans and even mutants against mutants…War…People are gonna die on both sides. I won’t lose you not if I can give you what you need to make sure you heal from everything thrown your way.”

Marie was so quiet for so long he thought she wasn’t going to forgive him, but after a shuddering breath she sighed and murmured, “Yer right. Ah forgive ya, Sugah…Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t have to,” he tightened his arm around her and laid his mutton-chopped cheek on the crown of her head. “Once you and Hank finish with the procedure you’ll be able to control it.”

“We don’t know tha-,” she denied.

“Yeah, Darli’, we do.”

“So, stay with me while I-uh-do it?” she murmured, her voice hopeful.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Logan smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to her hair. “You can come out now, Fuzz-Ball!”

“What do you feel,” Hank’s cultured tones held the barest trace of uncertainty and it made Logan edgy. It was all well and good that the furball and the Professor’s computer had ‘crunched’ the numbers, but they weren’t the one sucking the psyche of some unspecified lifeform.

“It’s cold,” she shivered in distaste, “clammy-like, but alive, cogent…I can feel it…It knows what I want from it and…” Marie stared off into the middle distance but she was only seeing her own mind. “It was so simple,” she whispered, awe and understanding trembling from her lips. “Logan,” his name was uttered in a laughing breath as she jerked her gloves off and held up her hands on either side of Logan’s face.

“Marie,” he answered gruffly, his eyes searching her face for mere seconds before he tilted his head and butted her naked palm with his stubbled cheek.

“Lo-Logan,” she gasped, her breathing halted as her fingers and palm cupped his cheek. Stepping closer Marie pressed her second hand to his chin the fingers stroking the side of his throat. She stroked the rough stubble and the supple leathery skin of his face and neck, laughing until she cried.

When the happy tears turned to great racking sobs Logan let the fingers of his left hand slide to the nape of her neck and pulled her face into the crook of his shoulder. “Quiet! Be quiet! I don’t want ya in mah head…Logan, help! They-,” the pleading tone of her voice scared him and he wrapped his free arm more tightly around her.

“Shh, Darlin’, I got you.” No sooner had he spoken than Marie’s body arched away from him and began to tremble and shake. “Marie!”

“Logan,” Hank’s alarmed voice and nearness ripped a growl from Wolverine’s throat even as he gathered her close to him protectively. “Logan, this was expected; we spoke about this. You must place Rogue onto the bio-bed so that we can monitor her condition.” The blue-furred doctor indicated the bed to their left.

Nodding, Logan quickly swept Marie up in his arms and deposited her tenderly onto the hard cushions of the stainless steel table. Hank worked swiftly attaching wires to the leads that he’d placed across her forehead and behind her ears. Within minutes of the seizure beginning it was finished and her body lay unnaturally still.

“Amazing,” the astonishment in Hank’s voice didn’t sit well with Logan; especially when the mutant began scribbling into a nearby notebook.

“What,” Logan growled, seconds from popping claw and wiping the look of scientific discovery of the blue furred face.

“The integration of the alien psyche and Rogue’s has had an unexpected effect,” Hank explained. “The Psyche did not only subtly change her mutation, allowing her to control her skin, but also her base-human DNA.”

“Are you sayin’ it is making her less human,” Logan growled, his claws slide free of his hands as he turned on the doctor.

“No,” Hank looked startled for a moment at the sight of Logan’s claws, but ignored them. “I am saying that not only did the experiment…”

“Procedure,” Logan roared. He didn’t like the thought that they had been experimenting on his Marie, like those bastards had done to him. “It was a medical procedure, furball!”

“Very well,” Hank rolled his eyes, “the medical procedure not only initiated the next phase of her mutation, but it is actively evolving her base-human DNA. I think it is safe to say that when Rogue wakes up she will be one of the most powerful mutants in recorded history.”

Logan retracted his claws; his mind was racing a mile a minute. If what Hank said was true it would put Rogue in even more danger. Every faction and no-name cadre would want a piece of her. The notation in her file about the X-Protocols came to mind and Logan felt every protective instinct in his body come to the fore. “Stop writing,” he demanded.

“Logan I must docu-,” He’d moved so quickly, even Hank’s normally agile reflexes could not counter him.

“You won’t write a fucking thing,” he growled. “You won’t type it in a computer, data-pad or phone. If I so much as get a whiff of anyone outside of this room finding out about Marie I will make it my life’s goal to make you hurt.” Wolverine laid the flat of his blades against
Hank’s throat; he was slightly surprised that the Beast wasn’t putting up a struggle. The good doctor wasn’t frightened of him, he supposed. Baring his teeth he flicked the tip of a blade at the crest of the doctor’s cheek bone. “Believe me when I say I am the best at what I do, and what I do isn’t very nice!”

“Well,” Hank asked, his voice bored and mildly amused. “That was thoroughly unnecessary, Logan. All you had to do was say please.”

Logan growled, “Really, then pretty-fucking-please!”

Hank sighed, before he shoved Logan away. He ended up with his back against the wall across the lab. “Do you think me heartless of an imbecile?” Logan shoved himself away from the wall ready and waiting for the next attack, which never came. “Logan, I understand why you do not want this documented and distributed outside the school, but there is a very necessary need for such information.”

“You mean the Professor’s X-Protocols right,” he noted the shock on the doctor’s face. “A little sinister if you ask me, not to mention it ain’t too smart. The anti-mutant regimes of the world would sell their souls for information like that and I bet you know where to find it…I bet Jeanie knows more than that…You think the Professor told his precious Jean how to access the files?”

“You were never supposed to find out about the Xavier Protocols,” Hank sighed.

“Yeah, it’s a bitch when the secret gets out and people don’t know who to trust anymore,” Logan sneered. “You aren’t telling shit about this; you got me? I bet the Professor never outlined how to kill Jeanie when she’s like she is now. I just fuckin’ bet he thought that sweet little Jeanie would never be Phoenix again.”

“Logan…”

“I won’t let you put nails in her coffin; that list should never have been compiled and you damn well know it!”

“I do understand,” Hank muttered. “I will not add this ‘experiment’ to her file, but I am going to annotate that she has at long last become able to control her mutation.”

Logan didn’t like it, but if Marie could now touch it was a given that she’d be seen taking advantage of her newly found freedom. Sheathing his claws he moved back to Marie’s bedside; frowning he sniffed the air around her. Her scent was altering; had altered significantly in just the last few minutes. It was light and fresh cloaked by her spiced lotion, but now there was the faintest hint of something…animal. As he watched she grew restless, “Marie,” he soothed, letting his fingers card through her silky hair.

Her movements became more disturbed and when she opened her eyes Logan was shocked at the bright red of the irises and to his observant gaze her flesh was tinged the faintest of faint pale greens. “Logan,” she gasped as she began to seize, her back arching unnaturally off the table as she keened is name again, “LOGAN!”

Her tiny hands clenched and she pulled her arms inward and suddenly Logan was wrenched to her side along with every other piece of metal in the room not battened down.

Pain, the likes of which he could not remember having felt before seared through him. His pained whimper must have penetrated Marie’s mind because immediately the pull against his metallic skeleton ended and the crescendo of metal dropping to the lab’s metal floor was deafening.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, her eyes frightened. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby!” Logan assured her, forcing his shaking hands to cup her cheeks. “It’s fine. You got it under control; I’m fine.”

“I’m hot,” she whimpered, and then her eyes widened and she shoved Logan away from her seconds before fire shot from fire flared on her fingertips. Unlike the magnetic pull the fire was weak and quickly flickered out to be replaced by ice flakes fluttering to the floor.

Breathing as though she’d run a marathon Marie clenched her fingers into fists and the ice soon disappeared and three bone claws slide from each hand.

“Ah, baby,” Logan murmured as he scooped her into his arms and held her close, the sharp edges of her claws tearing his shirt to shreds. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“What for, Sugah?” her quietly murmured question, preceded her drop into a deep sleep.

Logan paced the lab with feral intensity as Hank silently cleared the floor of the various metal objects Rogue had accidently summoned during her brief magnetic disturbance. He hadn’t said a word since she had fallen unconscious in his arms, but Hank knew the silence was an illusion. They were both aware of the implications of this ‘medical procedure’ and while Logan chose to see it as a bad thing, Hank could only see it as fortuitous.

After all they, each of them, now had their baser-side and their more genteel façade. It was strange really that he, himself, looked so beastly; while Logan was basically the very model of humanity and yet he had a bestial side within him battling for preeminence that Hank did not seem to have.

When the guttural grumbling left Logan’s throat for the nth time Hank sighed heavily and gentle set the now useless microscope onto the table. Glancing from the muscle bulging and vein popping form of Logan to the still peacefully sleeping Marie he too noted the obvious changes in her physical appearance and the delicate shifting of her natural scent.

Sighing with relief Hank began performing various medical diagnostics; her temperature was not normal according to human or other mutant standards but it was quite close to

Logan’s norm. “Ah, wonderful,” Hank murmured when he lifted her eyelid and found that her iris had returned to their usual warm brown. Her flesh had reverted to pretty peaches and cream the moment she passed out; the claws retracted at the same time, but a quick x-ray confirmed the bony formations were still present within her slender arms. Honestly, Hank found the dainty claws quite attractive on the young girl and he couldn’t for the life of him understand what upset Logan so about the addition to her mutation.

“What,” Logan growled as he came back to her side.

“I am happy to say that her eye color was not a permanent change,” Hank smiled as he finished with his general doctor’s duties.

“Unlike the damned claws,” Logan groused.

“You should be glad, honored even, that Rogue was given something as useful as claws with which she will be able to defend herself.” Hank admonished. Using a scalpel he made a small incision on the back of Marie’s hand and laughed jovially when it healed almost immediately. “Claws and healing, as well as a hefty control of magnetism, the rudimentary use of ice and the somewhat inchoate fire adaptation are all very useful indeed.”

“Marie shouldn’t be,” Logan sighed as he picked up one of her tiny hands and let his fingers stroke the flesh between the knuckles; the place that sheathed the claws. “One look at these things and people will label her a freak.”

“Logan, you and I both know that she has already been firmly set into that category. I have found Marie to be an exceptionally well grounded young woman. The addition of those beautiful distal manus will in no way affect Rogue’s perception of herself.”

“Beautiful,” Logan grated, “there is nothing beautiful about the pain those- distal manus- inflict every time they rip free!”

Hank raised one furry brow and then folded his arms across his chest, “Logan, how can I say this so that you’ll understand?” He was beginning to become aggravated with the mutant before him. If Logan didn’t snap out of this self loathing he would transfer his aversion to
Rogue when she awoke. “Ah…I know! Logan you need to pull that abnormally large head of yours out of your ass and begin to think of Marie instead of wallowing in self-doubt and loathing.”

“Listen here, bub!” Logan snarled as his body flowing effortlessly into an offensive pose.

“No, Logan, you listen.” Hank moved to his side and spoke earnestly, “There is no taking back the claws for better or worse they are a part of Marie now. Do you honestly think she will regret their existence when they are part and parcel with her ability to touch and feel again without ripping others apart in the process?” Seeing understanding in the other mutant’s eyes Hank nodded and left him to think about what he’d said.

Logan watched the blue-furred mutant leave and he felt shame was over his face coating his mutton-chopped cheeks in an embarrassed flush. He had to hand it to the cultured scientist he knew how to get a point across.

There was nothing he would hate more than being the cause of Rogue’s distress. Closing his eyes he thought of her delicate hand, her slender fingers and the graceful arch of the bone claws protruding from her knuckles; the primal side of him had found the sight exceedingly beautiful and if Logan was honest he would admit that his less primal side agreed. Stroking his thumb over her knuckles Logan lifted her hand to his cheek and gently pressed his cheek to the back.

“Mmm, that tickles,” she murmured, her pretty brown eyes fluttering open as she turned her hand so that she could cup his cheek. “It worked,” a beatific smile graced her lips and a slight sheen of tears brightened her eyes.

“Yeah, Darlin’, it sure did.” He returned her smile as his fingers slide from her hand to her wrist and then came to a rest over the sheathed claws. Pulling her hand from his face he stroked her skin absently and pressed a light kiss to it. He wondered if once his own claws had held such an organic flow to them and he wondered if the bony appendages had any sort of feeling lost to him because of the encasing adamantium.

“You wanna see ‘em don’t ya?” She was watching him with an intensity he was only used to seeing when he dared look at himself in the mirror; it was the animal instinct she’d developed that understood his need to inspect her.

Not waiting for him to answer she slowly unsheathed them and offered her hand to him; Logan grasped her fingers lightly in one hand and then the hand on her arm slid upward. Tracing the length of the bone-like claw and lingering over the whirls that decorated them. “Thank you,” she murmured, “for these and for takin’ care of me. Somehow I know it would’ve been bad if ya hadn’t given me a boost.”

“I promised,” he muttered, smiling crookedly.

“Yeah, ya did,” she agreed, a wide grin spreading over her face. “I can touch,” she squealed, pulling her claws back into their sheaths and again cupping his cheeks in her tiny hands.

“So I see,” he grinned back at her, letting her carefree excitement wash over him. She hadn’t seemed repulsed by the claws and Logan felt something deep in his chest unfurl. “So, got any plans on what you’re going to do first?”

“What do ya mean,” she asked puzzled.

“I mean,” he met her gaze squarely and clarified. “Now that you can touch are you going to give it a go with the Drake kid?”

“I don’t know,” she frowned. “He gave me a chance when it would have been easier to hook up with Kitty to start.”

Logan suppressed a rumbling growl and the urge to point out the Ice Prick had kissed someone else while technically dating her. “Just be careful, Darlin’.”

Rogue nodded her eyes vacant for a moment and then with a sad little smile on her lips and the brightness of tears in her eyes she stated as firmly as she could, “I think I should give him a chance to explain.”

The proclamation hurt and Logan didn’t understand, but his more animal nature was roaring in outrage at her decision. As he brooded he noticed Marie's eyes watching him closely and then she rolled them, "Geez, Logan do ya really think Ah'm that needy that I'd take a boyfriend back that took one of my best friends sparkin'?"

"No," he frowned at her, "I think you cared 'bout the twerp."

"Ah did," she nodded, "But he didn't care enough for me."

"He's a damned fool," Logan growled.

"What about you," she murmured, glancing away the sad look back in her eyes.

"What do you mean," he asked confused.

"When ya kissed me earlier," she peeked up at him and then away. "I sorta saw the night Jean escaped."

"Ah, hell, Marie!" Logan scrubbed his hand over his face; he hadn't thought about what parts of him she'd be getting when he brushed his lips over her forehead. Those moments with Jean were not the kind he was particularly proud of and to have Marie witness his weakness; well it made him doubly regretful.

"Are ya gonna go to her," she asked so quiet, so sad, that Logan found himself pulling her against his chest and hugging her tight.

"No, Darlin'," he shook his head letting his nose brush the crown of her head. "She ain't for me."

As soon as his words touched Marie's ears she wound her arms around his waist and they both stood silently wondering what their next move should be.

“Are you ready to vacate my humble domain,” Hank’s jovial voice interrupted their quiet musings.

“You bet,” Rogue nodded enthusiastically.

“Well then,” Hank made a gallant hand gesture and indicated they should follow him. “Let’s discuss a few things and then you are free to go.”

It hadn’t taken long after they left the lower levels for them to figure out that something big was fixing to happen.

Maybe it was the urgent call from the President of the United States asking Dr. McCoy to join him for a specially convened counsel to discuss the tensions between Mutants and Non-Mutants or maybe it was the televised opening of the clinics offering to ‘Cure’ the afflicted.

Logan had been right when he said a war was coming, Magneto would have it no other way. Marie worried about Logan in the coming conflict; especially with the offensive being led by Magneto.

The absorption of the being, Rogue was sure was a girl, had been far more enlightening than even Hank or Cerebro anticipated. The improved cognition provided by the consciousness allowed her to sort the through the various personas residing within her mind and allocate portions of them into a general repository of useful learned behavior, information and ideology.

The rest, personal memories and emotion, was purged and for the first time since she was sixteen Marie felt as though her mind and body were truly her own.

The sorting process brought to light many disturbing things about Magneto and his past with the newly departed Professor Xavier. It was the disturbing information that Professor Xavier had at sometime in the past included Magneto in the compilation of protocols outlining how to destroy every mutant to ever step foot within Xavier’s school or as in the case of Logan and a few of the Brotherhood to have the misfortune of having been targeted by the government for experimentation.

It was horrifying that the Professor could hand over, to someone as bent on manipulating the world around them, human and mutant alike, into their version of utopia, the keys to twist, mold and destroy other mutants.

Rogue knew that had the Professor survived she would never have been allowed to utilize the power of the being; she would have gone to her grave untouched except by the pain and horror of life sucking flesh.

She could forgive the Professor that, Marie was almost sure, well after having inflicted a little pain, but she would not…Could not forgive the man for informing Magneto of Logan’s Metal enhanced skeletal system. Nor could she forgive the suggestion that should Logan ever need to be ‘put down’, Magneto should use his incredible power to rip the adamantium from Logan’s bones.

Standing outside the garage waiting for Logan to choose a vehicle, she found herself hating the fact that she had allowed the man behind the kindly eyes to mean so much to her. His machinations were egotistical in the extreme; who the hell did he think he was to undertake the systematic destruction of their kind? Obviously, he’d felt entitled.

A soft breeze swept her hair across her cheek and she reached up and brushed it aside; Marie froze when she felt her bare fingers on her own cheek, it had been nearly three years since she’d left her room with so little skin covered. Logan had methodically striped her cloak, scarf and gloves from her when they first began the ‘medical procedure’ and had refused to give them back when they left the lab.

Closing her eyes Marie let her fingers trail over her cheek and along her throat. Smiling almost goofily she took a deep breath, enjoying the new found freedom, and the wind shifted again bringing with it the scent of a male with icy undertones, ‘Bobby’ her mind supplied.

“Rogue,” he called and she could hear him, his breathing was faster than usual; it was excitement that coated his voice, he must have heard the good news. Sighing, Marie turned to watch him jog the last seventy-five feet to her side. When he reached her he put out a hand to catch hers and she agilely stepped out of reach; she might be able to touch, but it didn’t mean she wanted just anyone to get all touchy-feely.

“Hello, Bobby,” she acknowledged him with a sort of bored detachment and that coupled with the swift move away from his seeking hand made him frown.

“Rogue,” he smiled a perplexed look on his face. “Hank just told us the news.”

“Yeah, Ah figured.”

“Then come here,” he laughed and moved to wrap his arms around her, but she side-stepped him again, “Rogue?” His voice was starting to sound aggravated, but he tried to sound understanding when he asked, “Why won’t you let me touch you; is it your control?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Ah just ain’t as desperate as ya think Ah am.”

“Desperate,” he scowled.

“Yeah,” she narrowed her eyes on the boy in front of her, “Desperate as in taking another girl’s leavings.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sniffing the air around him, she smirked, “Ya smell that Logan?”

The wind carried the unmistakable scent of their audience and Rogue was ready to mete out a little retribution, nothing bloody, just embarrassing.

Logan stepped up behind her, she’d known the minute he left the garage and made it to her side, and let a hand come to rest at the base of her throat. “What, Darlin’,” he made a show of sniffing the air. “Smells like cat piss to me.”

“Yeap,” Marie nodded. “I’m sure that’s what I smelled, too, kind o’ like somethin’ in heat.”

“The Kitty marks her territory,” Logan growled, letting his fingers trail along the column of Marie’s neck. “Did you use the, ‘My girlfriend just can’t give me what I need’ line or was she just flicking her tail at you and you decided better an easy lay than a good woman?”

“Now, Sugah,” Marie chided with a light laugh, turning slightly under Logan’s arm she patted his belly with one ungloved hand. By this time nearly half the school was gathered behind Bobby. Obviously, good news does travel fast.

Seeing Kitty in the midst of the throng Marie met the girl’s eyes as she spoke, “There ain’t any need to go gettin’ riled up; Ah told ya Kitty can have ‘im. She’ll have to keep an eye on ‘im, though, Ah saw the way he watches Jubilee when she’s in uniform. ‘Course Jubes’ is a little more couth; she would never go rubbin’ herself all over her friend’s guy, caterwaulin’ and such. Why, that’s just trashy.”

There was an indignant gasp from Kitty’s direction and Marie thought she heard Jubilee mutter to Kitty, ‘Told you not to go pouching.’

“I’m glad you have your head on straight, baby.”

“Me, too, Sugah,” she shifted her gaze to his and her voice took on a confidential air, “Between his memories and St. John’s,” she lifted herself onto tip-toes and whispered loud enough for all to hear. “Ah really don’t think she’s got what he needs; if ya know what Ah mean.”

“It’s like that is it,” Logan inquired with a smirk.
It wasn’t hard to see she’d called it right; Bobby had turned seventeen shades of embarrassed and he was now looking in horror at the congregants of the mansion.

“Let’s just say Johnny-Boy knew how to melt ice.” Marie winked, up at Logan and her playful gesture made him laugh.

“Well,” Logan shook his head and brushed a kiss over her temple. “You ready to head out or do you want to play some more?”

“Ah’m finished,” she smiled happily as she picked up one of her bags and Logan shouldered the rest, “Bye y’all!” She waved at the rest of the people gathered around.

“Remember you said you would write, Chica.” Jubilee bounced up to her side and gave her an impromptu hug.

“We ain’t gonna be gone long,” Marie chided. “Logan and Ah are just gonna reconnoiter and then report back with what’s happenin’ out there without the human media spin.”

“Sounds like more than a three hour tour,” the Asian girl winked. “Take care and don’t forget to bring me presents.”

“You got it,” Marie hugged her again and then followed Logan to the SUV he’d packed with supplies. Tossing the rest of her things in the back she climbed into the passenger seat and waited for Logan to start the engine before asking, “Where to, Sugah?”

“New Orleans,” Logan smiled as he put the vehicle in gear and pressed put his foot heavy on the gas. “There’s a guy there that I used to know.”

“You hungry, kid,” Logan grinned as he caught her embarrassed flush. Marie’s stomach was growling like a feral animal was fixing to gnaw a hole clean through her belly button.

“I don’t know why,” she growled, “I have been eatin’ since I got in the car.”

Logan had to admit she had finished of two bags of jerky herself and if he hadn’t put the kibosh on her getting the other two he would have starved. He was used to the demands his body made; decent sleep, physical exertion and a more then healthy appetite. He hadn’t exactly known his desires were excessive; not until Marie’s leg started to bounce and she’d devoured the chips, the jerky and a plethora of chocolate bars. The new understanding that her body’s altered state was causing her to grow hungrier gave Logan a guilty twinge. “It’s the healing or the uh-animal nature,” he muttered, glancing at her briefly, “Never figured out which.”

“Oh my Gawd,” Marie exclaimed, “This gnawin’ hunger is gonna be permanent? I’m gonna be as big as a house.”

“It ain’t always like that,” Logan frowned. “You just ain’t eaten anything that will satisfy it; what did you have for breakfast, some fruit and yogurt? We’re almost to North Carolina and I know a good place a few miles from here that’s clean and serves the best beef this side of the Mississippi.”

Marie’s stomach growled again and she nodded enthusiastically, “I could eat a cow; the way I’m feelin’ right now.”

Logan just smiled and figured it would be a bad idea to say that probably wasn’t an exaggeration.


When they pulled into the gravel parking lot of the restaurant the place was packed and only by luck did they find a spot when someone pulled out of their spot. The mouth watering smell of roasted meat filled the air and even Logan’s stomach gave a plaintiff rumble; he was used to that, but he wasn’t used to Marie’s reaction. Beside him Marie growled deep in her throat and her claws released.

Logan caught her around the waist when she moved to scramble from the car, “Marie,” he soothed, “You gotta get hold of yourself.”

Snarling, Marie raked at his restraining arm with her newly developed claws.

“Dammit, Darlin’, you gotta stop!” Pulling her across the seat and into his lap, Logan pressed her back against the steering column to contain her movement and grasped her wrists. His thumbs stroked comfortingly from her wrist to the center of her palm. “This ain’t you, Baby!” Logan pressed his forehead to hers and was relieved when he saw a glimmer of dawning reason. “That’s it, Darlin’, take a deep breath with me and when you exhale you will gain a little more control.”

“L-Lo-Logan,” Marie stared into his eyes with a frightened gaze. The claws retracted and she began to tremble with horrified understanding of what she almost did.

“I’m here,” he released her wrists and wrapped her in his arms. “Trust me,” he murmured as he soothed his palms down her spine. “Another deep breath, good girl, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Bu-but I almost,” she shivered.

“You didn’t,” Logan murmured and pressed a kiss to her brow. “I should have figured you’d be more than a little hungry; this is my fault, not yours, Marie. I’m sorry.”

“Ah don’t underst-stand,” Marie shook her head, “It wasn’t- Ah wasn’t like this before.”

Logan sighed, stroking her hair as he murmured, “It wasn’t part of you then the way it is now; you can control it, baby, it just surprised you is all.”

“Wonder if Ah can’t,” her voice trembled with uncertainty.

“You can…You are,” He smiled, cupping her cheek. “Breathe, see you’re doing fine.” Easing her back to the seat next to him Logan glanced around, but their struggle had gone unnoticed. Pushing his fingers through Marie’s hair to comb it out some he gestured to the brightly lit restaurant. “Come on let’s eat.”

Logan pushed open his door and pulled his leather jacket on as he stepped out. Marie sat unmoving, wide eyes flitting from place to place still afraid. Sighing, Logan rounded the front of the SUV and pulled her door open. “Come on,” he murmured gently, offering her his hand. “I’ll take care of you; nothing is going to happen.”

She stared intently at his proffered hand for a moment, before a small smile graced her lips and she met her gaze in challenge, much the way she had once before. “Ya promise,” her voice was a mix of teasing and seriousness.

“Yeah,” he laughed, reaching to take her hand and pull her from the SUV. “And I keep my promises. Now, let’s get us one of Mama’s steaks.”

“Just one,” Marie whined, but ruined the effect by laughing. “Ah told ya Ah could eat a cow all by my lonesome.”

“Darlin’ one of Mama’s steaks is more than enough for a little thing like you,” He let go of her hand and tugged a lock of silver-white hair playfully.

“I have mah doubts,” she batted his hand away. “I hope you got a lot of money because I have a feeling my new metabolism is gonna put a crick in your wallet.”

“You mean I ain’t gonna get away with just letting you eat the green stuff off my plate anymore,” he frowned.

“Logan,” she laughed, “You’re such a cheapskate.”

“Yeah, but you never complained about that before,” Logan pulled the door open and guided Marie inside with a hand to her lower back.

“Yer broccoli ain’t gonna cut it this time,” she informed him. “I want the biggest, juiciest steak they got.”

“You might have to get a job, kid.”

“Two,” The pretty brunette asked when they stopped in front of the hostess and Logan grunted affirmatively.

Smiling, the plastic smile that every food service worker has perfected she grabbed to menus and gestured for them to follow her.

Soon they found themselves in a quiet booth with two sweet teas; Mama’s doesn’t serve alcohol and the promise of a return by the waiter as soon as they had a moment to decide. Glancing around the bustling dining room Marie noticed two things. First, was that the other tables seemed to be made up of families and second was that the place was done up in an eclectic mix of down home southern styles. There wasn’t a cage or a stripper pole in sight and it perplexed her, “Logan?”

“Yeah,” he barely looked up from the menu, but she didn’t let that detour her.

“This-uh,” she tried to think of a tactful way to ask, but really there wasn’t one. “This ain’t your usual kind of place. They have cloth table cloths and nobody’s screamin’ fer blood.”

“Less you count the guy over at table ten that wants his steak grass-stained and still moo-ing, Honey” A sixty-ish woman laughed as she leaned down to hug a startled Wolverine. “How’s life been treatin’ you, Logan?”

“Better than most I can’t complain, Mama.” Logan smiled a little sadly as he stood up and sat beside Marie, he gestured for Mama to join them; she was a frail looking five foot four inches tall and her long grey hair was pulled back in a ponytail. “This here is Marie,” he placed his hand on the nape of Marie’s neck.

“Marie,” she smiled, as she reached out a hand that Marie took and gingerly shook it. Other than Hank, Jubilee and

Logan she hadn’t touched anyone else and she found the novelty overwhelming. Marie might have missed the woman’s next words except that Logan choked on his tea when Mama added slyly, “She’s as lovely as you said she was, Logan.”

“You okay, Sugah,” Marie asked when he began spluttering.

“Don’t mind him,” Mama laughed, “he can dish it out but he can’t take it.”

“Where is Jack,” Logan growled.

“In the kitchen,” Mama informed him crisply; winking at Marie she lifted her hand calling for their waiter, “where every man ought to me.”

“Yes, Mama,” the waiter asked as he came to a stop at the tables edge.

“Logan will have the twenty-six ounce, medium-rare with an emphasis on the rare; hold the garden but add an extra potato.” She turned to Marie, “And what about you honey, you want a salad?”

“Ah’ll have what Logan’s havin’ except not so bloody and with the garden.”

“Not the dainty type,” Mama enquired, lifting an eyebrow in question before turning her mischievous smile on Logan. “She’s definitely a keeper, Son, and just any girl that’ll eat her wait in beef.”

“Mama,” Logan sighed, looking embarrassed. “You haven’t changed always looking for a way to tease me.”

“I’ve changed plenty, Logan.” She fingered her silver hair, “You look the same as the day Jack found you.”

Smiling across the table at Marie she hitched a thumb at Logan. “He’s a good guy I hope you treat him right, Honey.” Logan growled and swiped his hand down his face. “If you’re so embarrassed go on in the back and say hello to Jack.”

Realizing he was being dismissed Logan grumbled and then headed for the kitchen. Marie watched him go and wasn’t surprised that the minute he was gone from sight Mama pinned her down with a penetrating gaze.

“It’s hard for him,” she started, nodding in the direction Logan had gone. “He hasn’t changed and yet people he knows, friends, both mutant and human all seem to turn old, frail and die. Jack found him about nineteen years ago, now. My hair was still pitch black and yet time has left its mark.”

“Why are ya tellin’ me this,” Marie asked. The woman obviously knew they were mutants but she didn’t seem disturbed by that fact.

“Because I can see he cares for you,” Mama smiled sadly. “We found him in Pennsylvania a month or two after the incident at Three Mile Island, the news said it was a meltdown, but my youngest daughter she told me she’d been held there for experiments and such. Emma was devastated you see because her sister had helped her and the others escape, but my Kayla…Well, she died there on the island.”

“She was,” Marie pursed her lips and looked away. She didn’t think that she could say anything nice about the woman’s daughter.

“She betrayed him,” Mama nodded. “I know, besides having the mutation of diamond skin Emma is a telepath of no small power. She saw what her sister did to save her and she was there when Logan helped them all escape."

"That's a bit mild," Marie muttered, her eyes narrowing. Mama either didn't hear her or ignored the comment.

"When she arrived at Xavier’s she learned quite a few things including the fact that Logan had been left on the island.” Mama smiled, sadly as she remembered. “She called me and I was on the first plane to New York, me and Jack. My Kayla she did what she had to do to survive, but she really did love Logan.”

“Ah still don’t understand why you’re tellin’ me this,” Marie growled, she was becoming upset by the minute. They had known about Logan parts of his past, but they obviously never spoke about it with him. “Do you have any idea what-,” Marie had to pause and take a deep breath to get control of her anger. “He let them do things to him, because of her…Don’t tell me she loved him, because if you love someone you take care of them. You don’t decide someone else is more important; Logan isn’t a piece of meat and the fact y’all have kept his past from him makes me hate ya just as much as Ah hate Charles Xavier right now!”

Mama sighed and her eyes were sad as she looked at
Marie, “We did as Xavier asked us and we can’t take that back, but he will never be able to live a life like the rest of us. We grow old and die and he, well he will be sitting her in another nineteen years looking just as handsome as he does today. He’ll be watching you wither.”

Marie stared at the woman with an incredulous gaze as she hissed, “You think it would be better for him to be alone,” her voice taking on a growling edge as she locked her eyes with the other woman’s. “Let me enlighten you, Mama.”

Picking up her steak knife she pulled it across her palm and though it hurt it healed quickly. “In nineteen years when you and your daughter are nothin’ but desiccated corpses I’ll be sittin’ in the seat right next to him as pissed off as Ah am right now!”

Marie was startled when the woman clasped her hand and began to cry, “Thank you, thank you! I was so afraid he would have to watch someone else he loved die.”

“Marie,” Logan growled as he stalked across the restaurant to her side; his keen eyes trained on the knife that still contained a smear of her blood. “What the fuck is going on here,” he growled.

Logan knew he’d been dismissed by Mama for a reason; the old bat was probably warning Marie off him about now, but he didn’t care because he and Jack had a few things to discuss. There was a sort of unwritten code the other man had broken and that code demanded that Logan defend it.

Stalking through the busy kitchen, Logan side-stepped a smallish man carting dishes and rounded the corner into the grill line. Jack was there shouting at one of the line cooks as the man tossed another slab of beef onto the hissing, flame of the grill.

“Pete,” the big bear of a man growled. “I’ve told you to watch the meat; done is before it can use for shoe leather. You wanna keep this job keep your fuckin’ eyes on the grill and don’t fuckin’ cremate the beef!”

“Sorry, Jack!”

Jack nodded and then turned toward Logan, surprise in his eyes, which had crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his hip against a stainless steel prep-table. It amused Logan, in a dark sort of way that he’d actually snuck up on the old grizzly in his den. “Jack,” he growled. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah,” the older man sighed, suddenly looking every day of his sixty-eight years. “I figured you’d be around sooner or later when I heard about that bastard kickin’ it. Chalmers take the line and keep an eye on Pete.”

“Sure,” a laughing man with a portly belly and blood stained apron moved into Jack’s spot and Jack removed his own soiled apron and tossed it in a bin as he gestured for Logan to follow him. Pushing away from the table Logan trailed after Jack and found him climbing stairs into an office that over-looked the dining room.

Walking over to the wall of glass Logan gazed down at Marie, she was staring at Mama with an eerie intensity that Logan recognized; it was that of a predator watching its prey, looking for weakness. It was a look Logan never wanted to see on Marie’s sweet face, but looking at her now he could see that it looked good on her. The animal inside her seemed to call to that part of him that struggled for freedom; one day soon they would have to explore that nature.

“Silver Bear,” Logan grumbled not taking his eyes of Rogue.

“I don’t know what to say,” the older man sighed as he also watched the table below. “I knew it was wrong; my Silverfox came to me in dreams over the years and each time she did I went to that prick and every time he would convince me it was for the best.”

“How could me knowing I had a life,” Logan growled, his voice filled to cracking with emotion. “How could not knowing I had been something other than a damned experiment be for the best, Silver Bear?”

“He told me about the girls,” Jack murmured. “He spoke of the part my Silverfox played in what was done to-,”

“What I let them do,” Logan cut the other man off. “I read the file you don’t have to candy-coat her memory.”

“I guess not,” the old Indian acknowledged, “But maybe that file doesn’t say it all.”

“It said enough.”

“It didn’t say what my girl felt,” Jack moved to his desk and pulling out a leather-bound journal as he spoke. “She left this for you; Emma went to the cabin in the Canadian Rockies after Kayla’s funeral, my Silverfox did what she had to do for her sister but she did care for you.”

Logan released his claws, metal now, and lifted them to the other man’s gaze as he growled, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Logan,” the man sighed heavily as he placed the book in Logan’s clawed hands. Logan stared at the oddly familiar book and his claws sheathed themselves of their own accord. “For what it is worth I’m sorry for what was done to you and I know Silverfox regretted the decisions she made, but we can’t change the past and Mama and I are glad you know everything now.” The mention of Mama brought Logan’s eyes back to the table in time to see Marie grasp a steak knife and rake it across her palm.

Immediately, Logan was out the door, down the stairs and stalking across the dining room. He could smell the rage and see the tension in every line of Marie’s body, “What the fuck is going on here,” he growled. She was trembling so hard that the ice in their drinks was tinkling against the glass and when her eyes met his Logan knew he needed to get her out of there and quick. Stuffing the journal into his jacket pocket Logan plucked the knife from her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her from the booth.

“Logan,” she gasped, wide-eyed as she grasped hand at her waist with one of hers and clutched at his jacket with the other.

“Shhh…Baby,” he pressed his lips to her ear a he spoke, “just breathe, Darlin’, deep breaths.” Logan turned away from the parking lot and toward the woods behind the restaurant half carrying and half dragging
Marie as he went.

When he felt they were deep enough into the forest he released his hold on Marie and tossed his jacket to the loamy floor. His shirts soon followed the jacket until he was wearing only his jeans and wife beater.

It looked like they would be exploring the that animal nature a little sooner than expected; Logan knew that it was Marie that had allowed him to bring her away from the restaurant, but he could feel the rage, hunger and tension building in her slight frame. The animal was taking control of her and Logan could feel himself answering the call as Wolverine growled, “You better run.”

She hesitated for a moment but the loud snikt of his claws releasing made her jump and he saw her own claws slide out as she took off deeper into the woods. Inhaling deeply Logan retracted his claws as he paced back and forth giving her a bit of a head start; she needed the exertion it would help to reign in the primal nature that wanted to take over.

After a few minutes Logan growled and took off after her and he was oddly pleased when he had to turn and zigzag to follow her scent. Most people tended to run in a straight line when the fled it made them easy targets, but Marie was smart.

She was lighter than he was and in good physical shape; with the head start she’d gotten a pretty far distance before he caught up with her. Growling to let her know she’d been found he circled around in front of her and tackled her to the ground as she passed by his location.

Her claws raked his chest eliciting a snarl from his throat as the tangled on the ground. He let her get a few good swipes in before he grasped her wrists and forcefully slammed them into the ground over her head. He easily subdued her flailing legs with his own but Marie never ceased to move as she fought his control over her movements.

Both glared fiercely at each other and growls rumbled from two throats as the struggled; Logan lost track of how long Wolverine held the struggling girl immobile before she slowly relaxed under him and retracted her claws. He was happy to see Marie shining from the brown eyes and not simply the primal part of her.

Loosening his grip on her arms he shifted his hips to the side and rested his weight on the ground beside her. Wolverine noticed the conflicting scents of innocence and desire mingled with the sweat, fear and adrenaline that permeated the air around them, but Logan noticed the way the moonlight shone on her pale exposed skin and the way her hair fanned out over the forest floor.

Wolverine growled, but Logan murmured, “Feeling better, Darlin’?”

Marie took a shuddering breath and nodded, “Yeah.”

“Good,” he smiled down at her. “You did good holding it in back there.”

“I ain’t ever been so- so-,” she shook her head and frowned when she noticed his slashed and bloody t-shirt. “I did that,” she questioned at his nod she looked away.

“Its nothin’ Darlin’,” he assured her, gently cupping her cheek he urged her gaze back to his. “You needed to relieve the tension.”

“I ain’t ever been so out of control,” she murmured.

“It’s all the rage,” Logan muttered as he lifted one of her hands and studied the blood stained and sweat skin; it was completely healed not even a scar. Leaning down, Wolverine let his tongue slip across the smooth skin taking in her taste as well as soothing the hurt away. Marie inhaled sharply and he watched as her eyes dilated with awareness.

“It builds up, the uh- the animal instincts are less complex than the human.” Logan rolled away from her onto his back staring up at the moon through the trees. “We have two natures Marie,” He sighed. “The more instinctual and animalistic side can’t reason it reacts. The human side has to keep a tight leash on that part of us or we’ll act out.”

“Why did you tell me to run,” she asked and the shifting beside him told Logan she’d turned to look at him.

“I’ve found three things that help keep my animal nature in check,” he told her, “Physical exertion and fighting. I gave your animal what it needed to release the rage.”

“Oh,” she murmured turning to look at the sky. They lay like that for some time both lost in their own thoughts.

“Come on,” Logan said as he rolled to his feet, reaching down he hauled her up. “Your stomach is growling again.”

Logan led the way back to the spot where he’d left his jacket and shirts. Stripping the bloody t-shirt off him, he wiped the sweat from his chest before tossing it to the ground. Logan was pulling on one of the shirts when Marie’s voice stopped him, “Logan?”

“Yeah,” he answered as he buttoned the shirt, looking up he found her eyes glued to the sliver of bare chest not yet covered.

“You said three things,” her brown eyes lifted to capture his. “What’s the third thing that helps control the animal?”

Logan stood completely still, he didn’t even breathe for a moment, and it was the question he had hoped she wouldn’t think to ask. Her eyes said she already knew the answer, but they also said he wasn’t going to get out of voicing the whole truth.

“Sex,” Logan growled and he let his eyes run over Marie from her tousled pine needle strewn hair to her grass stained jeans and rucked up t-shirt. Letting his eyes lazily meet hers again he elaborated, “No holds-barred, hard and fast fucking is almost as good as beating the shit out of someone.”

Logan wasn’t surprised by the blush that seeped into her cheeks and mentally he laughed at the wide-eyed deer-like look on her face, but he was surprised when she took a shuttering breath and let her eyes roam over his body.

In fact, when she licked her lips and let her eyes linger below his belt buckle Logan had to control the spasm of shock that streaked down his spine. “Maybe we can try that next time, Sugah,” she murmured as her eyes lifted to his playfully.

As he watched her make her way back to the restaurant Logan groaned at her parting words, but Wolverine, he just purred.

She had propositioned Logan!

Marie stared into the mirror with a look of utter incredulity on her face; a face which was now flushing to such a shade of red it could be called a tomato. It was like that, it seemed, when you were doing mundane things like brushing your teeth that moments of sublime stupidity seemed to flash forward into you consciousness and replay in stereophonic-Technicolor. Pulling the tooth brush from her slack mouth she spat the minty spittle into the sink and proceeded to avoid her own gaze.

Rinsing her mouth and splashing cool water on her flaming face, Marie groans at her blatant stupidity.

Logan hadn’t said a word to her since they left the woods. Mama had met them out by their SUV with two heavy bags of food and with a tentative hug for them both she left them to their drive. Logan stowed the bags in the backseat and then wordlessly opened Rogue’s door. He hadn’t made a comment when her stomach growled and gurgled at being so close and yet so far away from delicious grilled goodness. Not a damned word when he pulled into a two-bit mom and pop camping ground and rented the two bedroom cabin for the next three days.

He had, however, grunted when they finally got their stuff unloaded and he had shoved a still warm steak in Styrofoam at her across the tiny shared table. It didn’t take a brain donor to know he wasn’t interested and besides they had too much shit about to hit the fan to even contemplate letting her stupidity jeopardize their mission, whatever that mission was.

Drying her face, Marie was struck by the multitude of bare skin in her reflection. She was wearing a black tank-top and baggy plaid sleep pants so it wasn’t as if she was wearing a skimpy teddy but her arms, shoulders and throat were all left bare, and it made Marie feel free. Hanging the towel on the rack beside the door she flicked the light off and opened the door.

Logan was sitting in the darkened center room with his back to her. Beside him on the table in three incredibly neat little piles were the files Logan had collected. She’d known they would have to deal with the other things he’d found, but it didn’t make her happy about it.

Professor Xavier had a lot to answer for, but he was dead and Marie was a little afraid to find out what the telepath’s endgame had been.

Crossing the cool wooden floor Marie came to a stop at Logan’s shoulder. Her eyes and fingers traced over the files marked with her name. Her voice was whisper soft when she asked, “So, this is mine?” It was a rhetorical question and they both knew it, but Marie felt a little sad that Logan’s only answer was to take a long pull of his cigar. The flare of the tip bathed his face in orange light and she could see his eyes were tightly closed.

He was going to pretend she wasn’t there, it seemed. Sighing, dejectedly, Marie flipped open the file and the first page made her eyes well with tears. “Close it, Marie,” Logan’s voice was quiet as sat forward and crushed his cigar out in the glass tray.

“Mah,” she muttered as she pointed at the file and rage and sadness began to build again. “Mah parents contacted him and he- he-,” she couldn’t form the words as the reality of all that had been denied to her became that much clearer.

Logan reached out and flipped the file closed before taking her hand and pulling her toward his chair. The shock of his rough calloused fingers against her bare skin pulled her mind from the numbing hurt and betrayal.

When her hip was pressing into his shoulder Logan wrapped an arm around her waist and held her as he spoke, “We’ll stay here for a few days there is too much here,” he gestured to the files and books. “We need time to go through that shit and I want you trained before all hell breaks loose.”

Marie nodded, but the only thing she could focus on was the words she’d see printed on that paper, “My parents came for me…They…Wanted me…He told them I was better off alone.”

“I picked New Orleans for two reasons,” Logan said as his fingers tightened on her hip and his head leaned into her side. “There’s this guy, he was there that day on the island, his name is Remy, he has some connections of the lowest sort. We’ll be needin’ people on our side that ain’t afraid to break rules or tarnish the reputation of a dead man.”

Marie agreed, the mansion was filled with mutants, but they weren’t all fighters and the ones that were either had the words ‘fair fight’ crammed up their asses. “And the second reason,” she asked and it was like déjà vu.

“Mississippi is on the way,” he shrugged, absently, as if he wasn’t offering her the world. Sucking in a sob Marie threw herself into Logan’s lap and wrapped her arms around him as she cried. It was odd, she didn’t know if it was from sadness or from feeling like a weight had been lifted from her soul and happiness poured in.

Logan just held her, muttering quiet comfort until she quieted and settled her cheek against his tear dampened shirt. She frowned as she tried to figure out how they went from Logan ignoring her to huddled together in his chair. “Ah’m sorry Ah made ya uncomfortable,” she murmured, tightening her hand in the collar of his shirt. “Ah shouldn’t ‘ave said what I did.”

“Not following you, Darlin’.”

“In the forest,” she prodded. “When Ah said…Well, ya know what Ah said.” She felt her cheeks heating with her blush.

“Yeah, Darlin’,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t upset about the teasing it just gave me a fair bit to think about and I tend to brood when I have to think.”

“Well, then Ah’m glad Ah didn’t scare ya.”

“I’m the Wolverine, Baby, I don’t scare easy.” Logan told her in an exaggerated cocky tone, as he flicked the tip of her nose with a curled finger, making her giggle.

Marie shifted on Logan’s lap and slowly reached out to pick up the leather journal, “What’s this?”

“What I was thinkin’ about,” Logan took the book from her fingers and opened it to the first page; flipping to about the middle he pulled a photo out and handed it Marie. “Found this.”

Marie studied the photo as best she could in the dim lighting. What she saw made here heart jump in her chest; there in the photo was Logan looking just as handsome as he is now, only younger. That youth wasn’t physical, it was more psychological, the wide smile on his lips and the openly care-free eyes staring up at the woman draped around his neck, and it made her heart ache. “Ya look so happy,” Marie murmured. “She was a real beauty.”

Logan just grunted as he tossed the book to the table and took the photo from her hand; he traced a finger over the smooth cheek of the woman in the photograph, “She looked just as pretty the last time I saw her.”

“She was dead,” Marie frowned at his comment.

“She had the same look,” Logan shrugged and laid the photo face down on the table. Marie followed the action and reached out to pick it up again.

“There’s somethin’ on the back,” she murmured, as she brought it closer, growling because of the lack of light.

Chuckling, Logan reached past her shoulder and flipped on one of the table lights causing them both to blink.“So, what’s on the back?”

“It looks like a poem or a story,” Marie showed him the back and the tightly spaced feminine writing. “Ku-Kue-kuatu, Ah don’t think I’m sayin’ it right.”

“Kuekuatsu,” Logan answered, vaguely. “It’s some sort of Indian parable; Mama mentioned it once, but she didn’t get to finish it because Silver Bear interrupted.”

“Kuekuatsu,” Marie tested the foreign syllables and then smiled. “Wanna hear it?”

“Sure, Darlin’,” Logan murmured as he stroked her hair behind her ear.

“Kuekuatsu and the Moon lived in the spirit world together and every night they would dance through the skies. All the spirits knew the Moon loved Kuekuatsu and it made most of the spirits happy to twinkle around them each night, but one of the spirits was jealous and wanted the Moon for himself. Trickster told Kuekuatsu that the Moon had asked for flowers; he told him to pick her some wild roses from the Earthly plain. So, Kuekuatsu stepped down from the heavens and gathered all of the wild roses he could find, but when the night came and Kuekuatsu tried to take the Moon her flowers he couldn’t find his way back to her. He didn’t know that if you leave the Spirit world you can never return. Every night, Kuekuatsu lifts his head to the Moon, howling her name, but he can never find his way to her again. The wolverine spends his eternity alone on the Earthly plain never able to touch the Moon again.”

Marie’s voice faded and Logan slowly opened his eyes when he smelt the brine of fresh tears on the air. “Marie,” he murmured with a frown.

“She’s the reason ya call yer self Wolverine,” Marie slapped the photo onto the table. “She made ya think she was the Moon and you were Kuekuatsu, but she wasn’t the Moon.” She pushed herself from Logan’s lap and started pacing as she continued. “That ain’t love,” she growled. “It ain’t love what she did.”

Logan stood and watched her pace for a moment, but when he claws slid free he scooped her up carried her back to the chair. Dropping them into the chair, this creaked ominously under their combined weight. “Marie, Darlin’, calm down.”

“How can ya be so calm,” Marie growled. “She manipulated ya, called it love!”

“And there isn’t anything either one of us can do to change it, Darlin’!” Logan massaged her hands until the claws retreated and then he pulled them to his lips and kissed the place they’d been, licking gently at the tender skin between the knuckles. “Are we gonna have to go for another run,” he asked when her tension and rage didn’t diminish.

“What about Plan C,” she snapped, her eyes flashing. She was angry that he wasn’t more upset to find out the extent of the power that woman had, had over him.

Logan growled, baring his teeth and wrapped his hand in her hair pulling her head back exposing the arched column of her throat. Marie’s mind emptied of all thoughts except those of the here and now; Logan’s hand tightened in her hair as he growled menacingly. They remained poised like that for a while longer neither doing anything except steeping themselves in the moment. “It won’t be like that,” Logan’s voice was rough and the growl rumbled from the pit of his chest ending his statement. Loosing her hair he gave her a nudge, “Go to your bed Marie.”

Marie scurried to comply; when she stood by the door to her room she turned back, “Logan?”

He sighed heavily, but he turned to look at her and the look in his eye was new. The intensity of that gaze made her tremble and quake, his voice was rough when he met her gaze and smiled. “Don’t worry, Darlin’. You go on to bed now.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes lingering over his features. “G’Night.”

“Night,” he murmured as she shut the door.

Marie walked to her bed in a daze and slid beneath the covers. Logan had never looked at her with such intensity before and there was something about the way he’d handled her that had never been there before. He was treating her ‘different’.

Marie glared at the enemy with every inch of her abused body; pulling her rapidly healing right arm in close to her body she feinted to her right and then swept in on her left only to end up again flat on her back staring up at him.

“Damn it, Logan!” She growled as she rolled to her feet. “We’ve been at this for three damned days!”

“And you still ain’t got it right, Darlin’.” He smirked as she let loose a few creative epitaphs and come at him again. He had to admit she was a scrapper and she would more than likely put a normal mutant down without much trouble, but there were a hell of a lot of not normal mutants out there and she was still using mansion ethics in her fighting style. “You could have me down in three seconds flat if ya would just do what you gotta do.”

“I’m doin’ exactly like you showed me,” she growled, and came at him again only to find herself face down with Logan’s knee in her lower back. “I’m givin’ all I got!”

“That’s just it,” he purred in her ear. “You and I, hell, everyone at the mansion knows you got a weapon no one can defend against.”

“Ah- Ah can’t use mah skin,” she gasped in surprise. “It wouldn’t be-“

“Fair,” Logan laughed as raised himself from her prone body. “Haven’t I been telling you there ain’t nothin’ fair gonna be happening when the shit hits the fan?”

“Ah ain’t gonna use mah skin against ya, Logan!” She stared at him shocked. Picking dried leaves from her hair she glared up at him. “I can kill ya!”

“Well,” Logan shook his head in disgust. “I guess I’ll just keep beaten the hell out of ya until you ain’t so prissy about fighting.”

“Prissy,” she growled as she loosed her claws and swooped in low, this time she got a swipe in across his thigh and snaked body around his legs twisting her frame until she brought he mighty Wolverine down flat on his back. “You call this prissy,” She demanded as she moved to straddle his chest with her claws at his throat.

“Darlin’, I’m still breathin’,” he pointed out, unnecessarily.

He watched her as she glared down at him and he could see when she came to the conclusion that he wasn‘t kidding about them staying in this secluded forest until she played the dirty card. Growling, with a feral glint in her eyes she leaned in and whispered, almost seductively into his ear, “You wanna feel mah skin, Sugah?”

He was thinkin’ she was sexy as hell on fire when her cheek slide over his and he felt her lips move along the edge of his ear and then he was biting back a howl as he felt himself seeping into her. The drain only lasted a second or two, but she made her point.

When Logan could finally pick himself up off the ground she was nowhere in sight; he knew he’d pushed her, made her do something she didn’t want to do, but he also knew she would have to learn to deal that death blow. It was going to come down to her or the enemy and when the cards were lyin’ on the table, and it was all over except the counting, he wanted her still standing.

Trudging back to the cabin Logan couldn’t help smiling at the way she’d handled herself these last few days. They hadn’t looked at the files since the night they arrived; it was a sort of mutually agreed upon decision to wait until the brawling lessons had been completed.

So, it wasn’t a shock to walk in to the cabin and find Marie sitting at the table, scowl on her face, reading the file Xavier had compiled on her. Logan went to the small refrigerator and pulled out two beers, uncapping them as he sat down beside her. Purposefully placing her beer on the page she was reading Logan leaned back in his chair and took a long pull on the amber bottle.

Marie raised a disdainful eyebrow, but took the bottle and took a swig, turning the page. “He thought I was sympathetic to Magneto’s cause,” she murmured as she pointed to the file with the bottle, “Figured I could’ve done more to keep ‘em from takin’ me.”

“He’s-well, he was an ass, Darlin’,” Logan scowled down at the papers.

“You agree with him though,” she murmured watching him closely. “That’s what all that shit was about out there today.”

Logan met her gaze and he let a warning growl form in his throat, “It was about you gettin’ out of this fuckin’ war with your life, Marie.”

“Cut the crap, Logan!” She yelled as she thrust away from the table and kicked her chair aside as she leaned across the table to sneer, “You think I let them take me, let him use me for that damned machine, same as the Professor!”

“No,” Logan growled as he stood to meet her across the table, with the flip of his wrists the table lay on its side and papers were raining down on them as he pinned her to the wall behind her. The hard length of Logan’s body caged her slender frame and his eyes when he sneered down at here held a fierce light, “You of all people know damned well what I thought, then as now!”

“Why did ya make me,” she cried, her eyes beseeching him as her body sagged against him. He felt her shudder as her head came to rest on his shoulder. “Why did ya make me?”

Closing his eyes Logan took a deep, calming breath before he released her arms and pulled her to him with one hand at her nape and lower back. “It’s different now,” he told her quietly. “It ain’t like then; the enemy wears the face of a friend and I can’t lose you because you won’t do what needs doin’. If I’d been thinking the Professor would still be alive and Jean wouldn’t be readying to wage war against the humans.”

“You would have fucked her,” Marie muttered as she slammed her fist into his shoulder.

“Yes,” he sighed, what else could he say to that. When he’d looked at Jean in the med-lab that day she’d been less unattainable, and he would have fucked her just to have what had always been withheld, but he’d realized, almost too late, she wasn’t what he wanted.

“Why didn’t ya,” she asked, so quietly, he nearly missed it.

“You know why, Marie.” Logan sighed and stoked a hand through her silky hair. She shook her head, but he let his hand slide along her throat. “Yeah, you do, Darlin’.” His words were whispered into her ear as his lips slipped over her cheek to the corner of her lips. “You know why,” he reiterated as he let his lips ghost over hers, nipping at the plump lower lip and then soothing it with his tongue. “You’re the Moon,” Marie’s breathing hitched at his softly spoke words and he smiled as his lips covered hers.

Logan was no fumbling teen aged boy and he intended for Marie to realize the difference between those feeble unlearned lips and his; there would be no tentative strokes or questioning pauses, instead he deepened the kiss, tasting her. Marie whimpered and her fingers found his hair, fisting it as she trembled under his lips.

Smiling against her lips Logan savored her stoking his tongue along hers, twining, and tutoring her until she was no longer passive under his kiss; she was humming, growling really, as she pulled herself flush against him.

The hand Logan had in Marie’s hair was wrapped and tangled in it, and he used it to arch her neck baring her throat to him. Pulling his lips from Marie’s Logan traced his eyes over her. Her beautiful, deadly skin was porcelain innocence stained with a rosy hue of want and with her vulnerable pose Logan thought she looked damned beautiful.

“Logan,” she whispered,questioning, when he simply stared.

“Shh, Darlin’, I ain’t gonna hurt you.” His softly murmured words were a caress, “Just wanted to look at you for a bit.”

That being said, Logan dipped his head and instead of meeting her lips he carefully grazed her throat with his sharp teeth; the slight abrasion would heal before his teeth even left her skin, but he would see it every time he looked at her. Marie sucked in a sharp breath, that didn’t escape until she felt his lips and tongue soothing the same spot that he’d savaged, and then she was panting and writhing.

Logan felt the overwhelming desire to growl mine, but he realized just how primitive that would make him sound and
Marie wasn’t ready for primitive, just yet. Instead, he kissed and lapped at her skin gently, as she deserved, outwardly calm whilst his inner self longed to twist her about to face the wall and pound into her with animal abandon. Even with his conviction that he should taper his frenzied need a deep resonating growl rumbled from his chest when she tore at his t-shirt until her shaking fingers found solid flesh to dig painfully into.

They needed to stop, he needed to stop, find his quickly fleeing resolve and step away, but her skin was so soft and her taste was the perfect mix of sweet innocence and spicy desire. Logan thought he could feast upon her for hours and, damned if he wasn’t tempted to indulge; with their shared healing factor Marie was the only woman he’d ever been with that could take that much of him and it was a heady thought.

“Logan,” she growled, “please!”

The broken sound of her plea snapped the iron control he had over himself for a fraction of a second, his mouth found hers and he thrust his tongue deep trying to consume her as he grasped her right thigh lifting her against the wall and urging her to clasp him between her spread thighs.

The keening cry she gave and bite of her nails down his back snapped his focus back to the here-and-now. Her body trembling as his hips thrust rhythmically against her clothed core and her throat convulsively swallowing as she pulled her mouth from his; eyes squeezed shut as her lips shaped incoherent syllables. He could smell her arousal and it skewered him.

“Marie,” Logan whispered, taken aback at how close he’d been to fucking her against the wall, as if she were like any of the bar trolling tramps he’d screwed in his abysmally long and evidently forgettable life. Marie deserved better than that,she deserved gentle caresses and slow, loving penetration. He’d fucked up, because there was no way he could pull away now, when she was so close to falling from the razor sharp edge into orgasm, without royally pissing her off.

Taking a deep breath, Logan closed his eyes just as tight until he had a fierce hold on his body’s reactions, but he maintained the grinding thrust of his hips.

“We need…I should…I should stop,” he groaned, his hips emphasizing his words and she whimpered shaking her head, cupping her cheek he turned Marie’s face to his seeking gaze and her pleasure glazed eyes met his. “But I ain’t gonna…So beautiful…Gonna make you feel good, Darlin’!” Brushing his thumb along her plump lower lip Logan watched as her eyes dilated and her mouth formed a startled, ‘Oh’; her peach-pale skin blushed pink as she came.

Swallowing, Logan slowed his movements and gruffly murmured soothing sounds as he stroked her hair from her sweat-slicked face. She was beautiful, in that moment, so much more beautiful than he deserved. He was still painfully aroused, but he did not seek his own pleasure; this was Marie’s and hers alone. He could give her this; she deserved this pleasure. Leaning in he gently kissed her slack lips as she trembled for him; his, for this moment she was his.

When she was finally able to breathe Marie sucked in a deep breath that turned into a sob and her arms and legs tightened around him as she tried to recover from his blatant touches. Logan was sure that losing control hadn’t been his only mistake. She was overwhelmed, he could smell it in her tears, but she refused to let him go when he tried to step away from her.

Tightening his grip around her waist Logan slowly moved away from the wall and carried her to the room she’d been sleeping in since their arrival four days previously.

Pressing his knee into the mattress he awkwardly settled onto the bed with her still wrapped tightly in his embrace. “It’s okay, Baby,” he murmured and stroked her back. “I’m sorry; I upset you, I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand”

“Oh, Logan,” she cried, and her voice was a mixture of sorrow and joy. “Ya didn’t upset me…It was…It…Wonder if Ah’d gone mah whole life and never known?”

“Shh…Hush, baby! Even if he’d had his way,” Logan murmured, stroking her tangled hair. “You always had me…” He knew what she was saying; Xavier had decided her future for her and in that future she’d been untouchable, trapped. Logan hated the old man for that and truth be told was glad Phoenix caged within Jean’s mind, much like Rogue would have been within her own body, had ended his meddlesome existence. “…I wouldn’t have let that happen, Darlin’.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, pressing gentle kisses to his throat and licking daintily at his sweat drenched skin.

“Shhh…Sleep, baby.” Logan offered her his throat and reveled in the proprietary touches. It was strange it felt as if he’d been waiting for this girl, for her love, since he awoke on three-mile island; he’d found something, that might have been a dim imitation of it in Japan.

Long after Marie had drifted into an orgasm induced slumber Logan lay awake and wondered if he’d always been this love-starved thing? The answer was, yes. For all his feral tendencies Wolverine craved this intimate connection almost as much as Rogue had craved touch.

Marie stretched as she came awake feeling cat-like as she slowly relaxed back into the pillows. She was alone, the frown on her pretty features evidenced her distaste for waking without her Wolverine pillow, and the other side of the bed was still warm when she let her fingers trail over the spot. Opening her eyes she smiled when she heard the shower running in the bathroom.

Sliding from the bed Marie let the sheets tangled about her legs fall to the floor as she made her way to the bathroom door. Her fingers itched to reach out and turn the knob; would Logan welcome her into his shower and if he did would he treat her to another heaping serving of sexual bliss?

Without having made the decision consciously she found her hand lifting and the cool metal of the knob pressing into her palm, but she didn’t open it; it was ripped from her grasp and she found herself staring at a wall of Wolverine flesh.

“Hey, baby,” Logan smiled, “You sleep good?”

Marie heard him, of course she heard him, but her brain was busy cataloging the shear multitude of bare skin only covered in tiny droplets of water. Marie was suddenly thirsty she thought she would hyperventilate at the sight of the tanned muscled chest. And when her eyes slid down his belly a particularly interesting vein snaked its way over his abdominal muscles into the towel that was slung low, really low on his hips. Marie licked her lips suddenly hungry for a taste of the wickedly sexy vein.

“Enjoyin’ the view, Darlin’?” With effort Marie pulled her eyes from that spot and met Logan’s smug gaze; the look in her eyes made him laugh out right and Marie froze she’d never seen Logan so happy, so free. Stunned she didn’t move when he stepped forward reaching for her; his fingers in her hair, firm against the nape of her neck pulling her toward him.

“uh,” Marie swallowed, how the hell did he expect her to use her higher brain function to communicate when he was not only mostly naked, but touching her?

Obviously he didn’t because his voice was low, intimate and amused when he murmured, “I left the water runnin’ for you; we have to be in Mississippi by this evening and New Orleans the day after next. I talked to Hank and things are heating up, that means we won’t get to spend as much time at your folks as I would have given you.”

Logan’s parting kiss was decadent, like sweet milk chocolate mousse with dark chocolate drizzle, and Marie thought it was a hell of a fine breakfast. A girl could get used to a diet of pure Logan kisses. With a rumbling growl he ended the kiss, nipped her throat and gently deposited her into the bathroom with a swat on her ass and an admonishment to, “Shake a leg we don’t have all day.”

Once she’d pulled her brain out of the giant bucket o’lust it had fallen into Marie showered and got dressed for the trip to her parent’s house. She chose her clothes carefully it had been three years since she’d seen her parents but she figured they couldn’t have changed too much in the way of their religious convictions.

So, like a good little girl she dressed in the skirt she’d worn to Xavier’s funeral; it wasn’t practical travel attire, but her momma would be proud none the less.

Logan had packed their gear while she showered and changed so they were ready to leave before the sun had even fully risen. Now, Marie sat staring at the cell phone in her hand as Logan sped down the interstate. She was supposed to be calling her parents, but she hadn’t worked up the nerve.

“You want to leave it as a surprise,” Logan asked. The mere thought of surprising her parents was ludicrous. Her daddy would have a coronary at the sight of Logan and her momma would be all flustered because she hadn’t had the chance to dust before they arrived. No, surprises were out of the question.

“Nah, I’ll call.” Her words sounded more confident than she felt but she flipped the phone open and with trembling fingers dialed the familiar number. Marie had dialed it a thousand times just to hear her momma’s voice when she’d first left home and it had been both a comfort and sadness to her.

Putting the phone to her ear she listened to the ringing until the familiar accented tones of her mother’s voice interrupted the monotony of it, “Hello?”

Marie’s heart stopped and tears gathered in her eyes, it had been two years since she’d heard her momma’s voice, “Hello, Momma?”

“M-Marie,” her mother’s voice sounded at once happy and tearful, “Is that you baby girl?”

“It’s me, Momma.” Marie assured her as she asked, “Is it alright that Ah called?”

“Oh, baby, of course it is,” she was crying, Marie could tell. “Are you alright? Where are ya?”

“Ah’m fine,” Marie laughed. “Ah’m actually travelin’ out y’all’s way with mah friend and we was thinkin’ if’n it weren’t inconvenient-“

“Come,” her mother’s plea was firm as she laughed, too. “Please, come on by, you an’ yer friend. Yer daddy and I have missed ya. When do ya think y’all will be arrivin’?”

“Logan,” Marie murmured. “Momma says we can come and she wants to know about what time.”

When Logan glanced at her she saw the nervousness in his eyes as he spoke, “about an hour and a half at most, Darlin’.”

“Momma, Logan says we’ll be there in a little ova’ an hour.”

“Is Logan yer friend,” her momma asked and she could hear the underlying question neatly folded in the simple wording.

So, Marie answered both questions with pride and warning in her reply, “Yeah, momma, Logan’s mah friend. We’ll be stayin’ in Mississippi over night should we get a hotel room?” The use of the singular in regard to the room was deliberate and Marie knew her momma would pick up on it and make the leap to the idea of her daughter and the unseen Logan sharing a bed.

“Nah, Sugah. Y’all can stay in yer old room,” her mother’s voice sounded strained, but the words rang true. Marie could almost hear her mother trying to figure out how to ask the all consuming ‘skin’ question. “Only thing is the bed is still on the smallish side; is that okay what with your uh-gift?”

“It’s alright Logan and I don’t need that much space,” Marie had to smile at the genteel way her mother found to inquire about the thing that had driven them apart three years ago. “Mah skin ain’t a problem anymore, Momma.”

“You got that cure,” the hopeful sound in her mother’s voice hurt just a little bit.

“No, Momma, ya can’t cure something like this it’s genetic. Ah can control it is all.”

“Well, then we’ll see ya in an hour.” Her mother’s voice echoed with anticipation and she laughed as she murmured, “Ah’ll call ova’ to the church and have yer daddy come on home.”

“Alright,” Marie acknowledged and then she added, “Momma?”

“Yeah, Sugah?”

“Ah can’t wait to see y’all,” she murmured, “Bye.”

“Ah love ya, Marie, Ah missed ya.”

“Ah love you, too.”

“Bye…”

“See ya soon.”

Logan shifted his gaze back to Marie after making the right turn she’d pointed out onto one of the main streets of Meridian. It looked like any of the other towns they’d passed through, but Marie’s reaction that was hardly ordinary. She’d begun fidgeting as soon as they had crossed the state line and she’d dug a pair of gloves out almost reflexively; he’d unceremoniously plucked them from her hands and tossed them out the window.

To which, her eyes had gotten as big as saucers and she’d gasped out that they’d, ‘cost her a month’s worth of allowance and besides didn’t he know they hung people for litterin’ in the south?’

Logan had met her fluttering anxious eyes and retorted, “Well, Darlin’, if they can find a rope strong enough to string me up it’ll be one hell o’ a surprise when I just keep on kickin’!” The near hysterical giggle that escaped, he assumed at the thought of a lynch mob staring at his struggling purple face, had taken the edge off her tension, but it was still there ready to ratchet up another notch.

“Ya see that light,” she pointed ahead and he barely kept from muttering only a blind man could miss it, but instead he’d grunted an affirmative. “Ya’ll need to get in the turn lane, but the next turn is a right so ya gonna have to stay to the right or ya’ll miss it.”

Logan nodded and flipped on his blinker, getting in the turn lane they waited for it to change. When it did the tension exploded from Marie’s side of the SUV. “Calm down, Darlin’, you said your mother was happy to hear from you.”

“She was,” Marie rung her hands.

Logon thought about that a minute if it wasn’t seeing her mother that was the source of all that angst then, “You worried about what your dad will say?” It was just a guess, but the way her shoulders had straightened and then slumped answered for her. “He the reason you took off?”

“No,” Marie twisted her fingers together and then indicated that he should make the next left. “When it all happened the doctor’s thought it was somethin’ wrong with Cody, but Ah new it wasn’t. Ah wouldn’t let anybody get near to me Ah pretty much refused to leave mah room, but one night Ah heard mah momma cryin’ and mah daddy was tellin’ her it would be okay. They was talkin’ about sellin’ the house and movin’ somewhere else. Mah Daddy’s been preacher at the church since mah granddaddy retired and before him mah great granddaddy was in the pulpit. Ah remember Ah was standin’ there in the hall, mah bare feet cold on the wooden floor, and Ah just knew Ah didn’t belong there anymore, Ah’d have to leave so they could stay where they belonged.”

Logan heard the sorrow in her words, but he couldn’t help but think that her parents had driven all the way to Westchester, New York to get their daughter back. “I think,” he murmured as he stopped at a stop sign, “they love you, Darlin’, and I’m betting your dad will just be happy you’re home.”

“Good because that house there on the left is them,”
Marie told him, her eyes challenging as he jerked in surprise. “Not feelin’ so confident now are ya?”

“Hell, Darlin’ they’re gonna love you, but if my baby girl came home draggin’ the likes of me behind her, well death would be a service I’d provide for free.” Easing away from the stop sign Logan pulled up to the house she’d indicated and put the SUV in park, pocketing the keys. “You ready to seal my fate,” Logan asked with a smile as he got out of the driver’s side and rounded the car to her door; opening it he stood waiting for her to step out when she didn’t immediately move Logan leaned in and took her hand. “Come on, baby.”

Once she was on the curb Logan shut the car door and turned back to where Marie stood, nervously twisting her fingers. Stepping close to her Logan smiled down into her upturned face; taking her hands in his he kissed her knuckles and then stepped toward the house leading her up the front steps.
________________________________________


“Was that a car,” Owen sighed, placing his open Bible face down on his side table. This was the fourth time she’d questioned the sound of a passing car and he’d gotten up every time to appease her. “It sounded like a car stopping out front,” Priscilla dithered as she came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel.

Pushing the curtain aside Owen peered out and indeed there was someone parked in front of the house; it was a fairly up-scale vehicle, well kempt and at odds with the man rounding the front to open the passenger door.

Frowning Owen moved to drop the curtain, but stopped when the man reached into the door and helped his Marie from the car. “Is it Marie and her young man?”

“Well,” he said, not sparing a glance for his wife as he watched the man pull his Marie’s hands to his face and kiss them gently. “It’s Marie, but I don’t think her ‘young’ man is as young as we thought he’d be.”

“What do you- Oh my,” the sound of his wife’s voice wasn’t only that of shock at the man’s age but also appreciation and Owen decided right then that next Sunday’s sermon would be on covetousness and lust.

“Thou shalt not salivate over other men in front of your husband,” he groused, “I mean really, Priss, it isn’t bad enough that you inveigled me into letting our daughter and her ‘young’,” he made air quotes around the word to emphasize his sarcasm, “man sleep in the same bed, and yet I have to sit by and watch you ogle him, too?”

“So, you’re sayin’,” Priscilla turned to him with an arched eyebrow and her sarcasm met his tone for tone, “all those times we ended up at Hooters after Sunday service was because you really like their wings?”

“I- well-I-uhm…” Owen had to admit he was caught there, “The kids like the wings, is all.”

“Sure they do, Sugah, that’s exactly why they go with ya.” Shaking her head with a laugh she snapped her towel at his backside and ordered, “Pluck the log from your own eye before you preach about my splinter. Now, go open the door and be nice to Logan.”

Owen grumbled the whole way to the door and decided that the next sermon would be on husbands being submissive to their wives; he stop hand on the door handle and shook his head sadly at the mess that was that thought. Maybe he should just let Priss preach this Sunday.

Pulling the door open and pushing the screen door outward he forgot about everything as he found himself face to face with his baby girl; not thinking he reached for Marie as he cried, “Lady Bug, where have you been?”

“Daddy,” she exclaimed, and she allowed him to hug her to him.

“We were so worried,” Owen informed her as he tightened his hold and then released her. “What were you thinking?”

“Ah was mostly fine,” Marie defended her choice, “Ah couldn’t let y’all throw everythin’ away for me.”

“Anne Marie,” her mother chided as she pulled Marie into a fierce hug, “You know full well that ain’t an excuse for hightailin’ it with nothin’ but a note.”

“Yes, Mamma,” Marie murmured, and when her mother released her there were tears on both women’s cheeks.

The man called Logan stepped forward placing a hand at the small of Marie’s back and met Owen’s eyes as he extended his hand, “Name is Logan Howlett.” The handshake was firm, that was good, and there was no shiftiness in the man’s eyes as he introduced himself; it didn’t make up for the fact that the man was old enough to be her father, but at least he appeared on the up and up.

“I’m Owen and this is my wife, Priscilla, we’re glad to meet you.” The look of surprised, hopefulness that flickered in the younger man’s eyes briefly gave Owen pause, to think that maybe just maybe Logan was more of a decent sort than he’d first thought. “We got dinner on the table out back; Marie why don’t you and Logan get your things and settle in your room.”

“Yes, daddy,” she turned to comply, but Logan stopped her.

“You go on with your folks,” he smiled gently at her tucking one of her blond streaks behind her ear. Owen wondered when she’d gotten into dyeing her hair in such an odd way. As ritzy as that boarding school was he wondered that they didn’t seem to have a dress code. “I’ll find you when I’m done besides I need to make a call.”

“Thanks,” she murmured with a big smile, digging a small cell phone from her pocket and handing it to Logan. He took it bending down to briefly brush his lips over the silk of Marie’s hair. “Our room is the one to the right of the stairs, Sugah.”

Owen watched as Logan turned toward the truck and
Priscilla pulled Marie into the house the two of them chattering like they always used to do. Instead of following after his women folk he stayed on the steps for a few minutes and watched Logan as he rounded the back of the SUV with the cell pressed to his ear. Waiting a minute longer he stepped down onto the sidewalk and slowly made his way to the vehicle.

“Listen, Bub,” Logan was growling into the phone, “I know things are heating up, but Rogue is my only concern. So, Xavier made a mess and he made more than a few enemies that ain’t my concern; what is my concern is getting me and mine out the other side of this shit storm alive. So, me and Rogue will return when I think she’s good and damned ready for the fight. She’ll stay alive no matter what.”

Owen listened while Logan growled a few responses to whomever was on the other line and he felt his fear for his daughter ratchet up a notch. Who was Rogue and what sort of enemies did that man, Professor Xavier have? Owen’s mind was so intent on puzzling out Logan’s phone call that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the man called out gruffly, “You got somethin’ you want to say to me?”

Rounding the vehicle Owen found Logan sitting in the open storage compartment with an unlit cigar clenched in his teeth. Taking a few minutes he just studied the other man; he could tell by the whitening of Logan’s knuckles he wasn’t as relaxed as he outwardly appeared. The man also appeared to be making sure Owen new all his bad qualities; it was behavior he was used to now, they all made sure he knew just how unlikeable they were.

“What’s your mutation,” he asked and Logan’s eyes narrowed, before he lifted his right fist and three metal blades shot from it. Owen knew his eyes widened, nine inch blades, which were impressive even for a man that dealt with mutants every day. He watched as the retracted and the man’s hand healed up immediately.

“I heal,” Logan watched him with keen eyes and Owen nodded. “The claws, well there part of my mutation, but Uncle Sam supplied the up-grades.”

“You were a soldier,” Owen asked, the way Logan said Uncle Sam made him think he resented the improvement.

“I was,” he growled, pulling the gnarled cigar from his mouth as he spoke. “Then I was just an experiment.”

“It’s true then,” Owen swallowed, “What the kids have been saying?”

“Depends,” Logan stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. Idly, Owen thought Priss would enjoy that display. “What kids and what have they been sayin’?”

“After Marie left,” Owen sighed, “I went looking for her and it seemed like I almost caught up with her a couple times, but what I noticed while I was lookin’ for my girl was that I was findin’ everyone else’s kids. Some had been rejected by their parents and others were like my Marie, scared and on the run. Anyway, when I realized the need I started bringin’ them back here if they’d come. Priscilla and I have converted the back buildings of church into dorms of sorts. We call it Haven and anyone is welcome to spend time there mutant or human.”

“How many,” Logan asked.

“Today we have fifteen,” Owen met Logan’s eyes with a frown, “but we’ve been as high as thirty; usually Xavier or his doctor lady comes by and gives a sales pitch scooping up a few here and there, but mostly the kids are free to go if they want. Some go to the Massachusetts Academy, Miss Frost operates it, she had a bit of a hate/hate relationship with Xavier and they tended to avoid each other.”

“I didn’t know Emma had a school,” Logan frowned.

“Yeah,” Owen nodded, wondering how he knew the flashy woman in white. “It’s smaller than Xavier’s place and they only just got their doors open about six months ago.”

“I know her parents,” Logan provided without prompting. “And the kids have been talking about bein’ experimented on?”

“None of the children we have now, no, but a year or so ago we had a boy, Jimmy, with us your professor wasn’t interested in him, as I recall, he disappeared a few days later. We haven’t heard from him since.”

“What kind of mutation did the kid have,” Logan frowned. “Xavier was a dick, but he didn’t turn away kids, at least I didn’t think he did.”

“Jimmy was younger than most and he was a bit slow his mutation was kind of like Marie’s I guess, only he didn’t put anyone in a coma, just left them a little weak, he could leech the other kids powers if they were close enough.”

“Yeah,” Logan nodded, “that ain’t a power a man like Xavier would want around. He’s used to walkin’ around in everyone’s heads getting what he thinks is for the best. He didn’t tell Rogue you and her mom had come looking for her; thought she was too dangerous to lose track of.”

“But he said,” Owen felt a bone deep anger building within him. “Are you sayin’ my little girl was in that school against her will?”

“Not in so many words,” Logan growled, his eyes turning flinty. “The bald bastard had her convinced she was a danger and would never have control enough for touch. Fucker, better be glad his prized pet put him six feet under before I got my claws on him. The bastard had what she needed locked away because a Rogue out of his control was unthinkable!”

“Xavier is dead,” Owen asked with a grimness that matched Logan’s. He might be a preacher but he was human and you just don’t mess with a man’s little girl.

“Unless you can get every molecule scattered over a block radius and live through it,” Logan gave a feral smile, “he played around once too often and it came back to bite him in the ass.”

“And how exactly did you meet my daughter,” Owen’s change of topic didn’t seem to through Logan, the man just shrugged and turned lifting to bags from the back of the SUV.

“I was cage fightin’ in a bar in Canada and she was at the bar when I got finished up for the night,” Owen felt all the blood drain from his face at the thought of his little girl hanging out in rough and rowdy bars. As if away of what he might think Logan continued, “Was winter and the only place to get out of it was the dive bar.
Anyway, one of the guys I’d beat earlier made a fuss and she saw ‘im coming and called out a warning. I popped my claws and took off I was about three miles down the road when I heard something and there she was as pretty as you please huddled up under my motorcycle cover.”

“She just hitched a ride without asking,” Owen frowned.

“Well, it was betta’ than sittin’ in that bar waitin’ for ‘em to figure out Ah was a freak, too.” Marie’s voice startled Owen so bad his heart nearly stopped.

“God Bless America, Marie, don’t sneak up on me that way!”

Marie just giggled and went to Logan’s side wrapping an arm around Logan, “Did Ah scare you, Sugah?”

“Nah,” he grinned. “I smelled ya comin’.”

“Well, momma wants y’all in for dinner before it gets any colder.”

Logan smiled and kissed Marie’s temple giving her a squeeze, “We’re almost done here, Darlin’, you tell your momma that fried chicken smells like heaven and nothin’ will change that, even if it was cold as ice.”

“Okay,” Marie grinned, “but only because y’all have been talkin’ so civilized.”

“Go on,” Logan laughed, “get out of here.”

“Be nice,” Marie cajoled, with a wink, “won’t ya, Daddy?”

“Sure, Lady Bug, whatever you say.” She winked at him and put her hand on his arm as she left and Owen felt like crying.

“She’s a good girl,” Logan spoke softly as he shouldered their bags. “She’s precious and anyone that wants to hurt her will have to go through me first and I guarantee they won’t live through the experience.” Owen met the man’s eyes as he moved to shut the hatch and he could see utter determination in the man’s eyes as he spoke, “I’ll take care of her or die trying.”

“You’re just a man, Logan.”

“No, Owen, I’m a mutant!”

“Mutant’s die every day,” Owen admonished.

“Some,” Logan replied cryptically, “die more often than others.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just what I said,” Logan moved up the walkway as he spoke over his shoulder. “I said what I had to say and the question you haven’t asked yet ain’t any of your business. So, we ought to get on into supper before Marie takes it in her head to come looking for us again.”
________________________________________

Dinner was a quiet affair with only a few inconsequential discussions taking place. Logan sat back in his chair beside Marie when he’d finished eating and let one of his hands tangle in her hair, massaging the nap of her neck. He could feel the knot the earlier tension left behind and he wanted to sooth her, besides he liked touching her, it ‘soothed’ him. “Dinner was great,” he murmured to Priscilla. “It ain’t often we get home cooking.”

“Thank you, Logan, Ah’m glad you enjoyed it.” She smiled as she got up and began gathering dishes.

“I’ll get those,” he offered, deciding a little gallantry might go a good ways to breaking the silence that enveloped the room when he and Owen arrived; Logan stood up and took the piled plates.

“Thank you,” she smiled, handing the dishes to him. “Your momma taught you right Ah see.”

Logan just pasted a smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes on his eyes and nodded he’d exposed every other dark piece of his life to Marie’s father; he wouldn’t get into this, too.

“Ah’ll get the dessert,” Marie stood and moved to the oven.

“Be careful, Marie, the cobbler might be a little-,” her mother didn’t get a chance to finish as Marie hissed in pain. The sound barely left her lips before Logan was at her side; he could see the blistered skin, from where the juice from the cobbler had splashed her unprotected wrist, was already healing.

“Marie,” he muttered, pulling the glass dish from her hands he ignored the burning pain and shoved the cobbler onto the stove.

“Marie, Sugah, do ya need the first aid kit?” Priscilla asked her voice horrified.

“She’s fine,” Logan assured Priscilla over his shoulder. The sink was across the room, so Logan wrapped an arm around her and hurried her to the sink turning on the cold water rinsing her skin, “it’s okay, Darlin’, already healed.”

“Ah can still feel it,” she whimpered.

“I know, Darlin’,” Logan spoke softly as he smoothed her hair from her face. “Burning always takes longer to heal than anything else does.”

“Is Marie okay,” Owen asked, and Logan heard the question buried in that simple question, but he wouldn’t be answering it, that was Marie’s to answer.

“Ah’m fine,” Marie smiled, “see good as new.” She showed them her once again peaches and cream skin. “Let’s have dessert Ah ain’t had cobbler like momma’s since Ah left.”
________________________________________

“RRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHA-A-AHHH!”

“What was that,” Priscilla pushed herself up on her elbow in alarm.

“I don’t know, but it sounded like it was coming from Marie’s room,” Owen was out of the bed and headed down the hall before he finished speaking. As he neared the room he could hear panting and gasping. He was three strides away when he heard Marie’s voice over the noise.

“Logan,” her voice, closer to the door, was pitched low, like she was trying to calm an agitated animal. “It was just a dream, Sugah.”

“M-Marie,” Logan’s voice was broken, lost, like he was unsure of his whereabouts. Then Owen heard the sound that accompanied those metal claws Logan showed him earlier, “Oh, God, Marie! Did I hurt you?”

“Not even a scratch,” she soothed, and it sounded as though she was moving back toward the bed. "But the sheet didn't get so lucky."

“C’mere, Baby,” there was the rustling of sheets and the squeak of bed springs.

“Tell me,” Marie’s voice was a muffled command; Marie must get that from her mother, Owen thought.

“They took you,” Logan’s voice was strained, “I tried to keep you safe, but I was too late; the government got you. They put you in the tank made you like me.”

“Logan, you always keep me safe,” she murmured.

“That what you call what happened on the Statue of Liberty,” his voice was a growl filled with self-loathing.

“You came for me,” Marie’s voice had a smile in it as she spoke. “You came after me and ya saved me! Logan, Ah was dead and ya didn’t give up. Ah know ya won’t ever let anything happen to me if’n ya can help it, but Baby, Ah ain’t gonna blame ya if ya can’t keep every bad thing from happening to me.”

“I need you safe,” he growled.

“Same as Ah need you safe, Sugah.” She was laughing a little as she added, “Its cause Ah love ya.”

“God, Marie, I love you, too.” Logan’s voice was muffled as he replied, “so much.” They must be holding tight to each other. Priscilla chose that moment to wrap her arms around his waist and lay her head against his back.

“That means you’ll give in and make love to me now, right?” Marie’s voice was a purr and Owen felt sure no man should hear his daughter talking like this, but he waited to hear Logan’s response to her query.

“Marie, you’re killing me here!” He sounded exasperated, but it also sounded as though he were giving in because her reply when it came sounded confident; a little like when she’d wrangled something out of him when she was younger. “Oh, Sugah, Ah ain’t gonna kill ya.” Owen almost felt sorry for Logan, almost.

“Fuck,” Logan groaned, “Marie, baby, you gotta stop.”

“Fine,” Marie huffed, again sounding like his little girl, “So, no sex…Then, I guess, you can tell me why you’re havin’ nightmares after six peaceful nights.”

“I told your dad about the experimentation,” he sighed.

“Did ya tell him everything?”

“No, Darlin’, I couldn’t quite figure out how to tell your father that the man stealing his daughter is old enough to be her great-great-great-grandfather, not just her father.”

“Ah think he’s handlin’ all this pretty well,” she answered.

“Sure Darlin’,” Logan said as though he were humoring her.

“You don’t think so?”

“I think he’s probably outside the door right now trying to figure a way to kill me that takes.” The comment, oddly insightful,though spoken in jest surprised Owen and he grabbed Priscilla’s hand and headed for their room.

Calmly shutting the door behind them Owen turned to his wife with troubled eyes. The wench just laughed and wrapped her arms around him as she murmured, “You sure he ain’t a mind reader?”

“No,” Owen grumbled, letting a smile steal over his features as he gave his Priss a loving push toward the bed. “I think our little girl has him wrapped around that little finger of hers though.”
________________________________________

Logan smiled as Marie’s parent’s scurried away. Unlike Marie, he’d noticed the sound of their breathing closer than it should be; Logan made a mental note to add that to Marie’s training. It could be dead useful knowing when the enemy, or the father of your girl, was within striking distance.

“What are ya smilin’ about,” Marie asked, just before the door to her parent’s room clicked closed down the hall. The sound made her eyes bug out and her mouth formed a startled ‘O’; then her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that the reason ya said no to makin’ love to me?”

“No,” Logan said, his eyes turning dark and his voice rough as he pulled Marie under him, “here just ain’t the place, but believe me Marie, it’ll be worth the wait.”

They spent the next day at the church with her parents; Logan helped her father finish some repairs on the second out building, so that they could turn it into a dining hall. Marie felt fairly sure her mother had contrived to get Logan out of his over shirts and she’d succeeded. It was hot in Mississippi and humidity was murder.

Besides Marie thought Logan was very aware of the giggling and murmuring that was coming from the shade tree she and her momma sat under snapping beans and peeling potatoes. Why else would the rotten man have whipped off his wife beater and struck such a calculated pose to pour a bucket o’ cold water over his head?

If she’d muttered, 'tease', a little too loud and gotten a cocky grin for her rebuke then it was all good.

Her father had rolled his eyes at Logan’s antics and tossed his t-shirt at his head.Her momma had taken her little girl into the kitchen and blushing and stammering told her some of the secrets that all women needed to know and then they'd cried.

When Logan and her father found them both sniffling they both just shrugged and said it was the onions; neither man seemed to notice there wasn't an onion to be found.

They’d worked until the sun high above them. When they settled at the long tables Logan had gotten the chance to speak with the kids and her parents about the coming conflict. He’d advised her parents to implement a guard rotation around the church and had walked the property with some of the older boys and her father pointing out weak spots and good places to set up the guards.

Her father had been appalled at first but around the time lunch started the news had been full of stories about human/mutant conflicts and propaganda touting the cure as the new savior of the human race.

It made it impossible for many of the young mutants to eat, but Logan had looked them all in the eye and told them, “when you feel sick with fear you eat, you sleep, you joke with your friends, you get your ass out of bed and you do what needs doin’ or you give up and you lie down to die!”

Marie knew her mother thought it was too harsh, but her father had nodded with grim understanding. Logan wasn’t aware of it, but it was that moment that her father had decided he was good enough for his little girl. They’d left right after Logan wrote down a laundry list of books for her father to read, dealing with strategy and defense.

So, it was just after night fall when they pulled into the ravaged, but still thriving heart of New Orleans.

Logan parked in a grocery store parking lot, “We’ll walk from here on out. There is no telling where Remy will be,” wrapping his arm around her waist they started walking through the busy streets. For the mass of humanity clogging the street and sidewalks they didn’t once get jostled; Marie was pretty sure Logan’s scowl cleared the way.

“He used to frequent this place,” Logan said as he pulled the door open and they stepped into the dimly lit bar, a woman in a revealing black dress and painted red lips swayed to the mournful and sultry sound of a trombone as she sang the blues like a woman that knew hard times. “Stick close, Darlin’, I’d hate to have to kill some poor schmuck because he got out of line.”

Marie smiled at his growling comment, but she snaked her hand into his back pocket and held on as she followed him to the bar. “I’m looking for Remy,” Logan growled as they sidled up to the bar.

“Hell, Cher, do that boy be owin’ you money?” The gnarled, old face crinkled as she assessed Logan. When her coal black eyes fell on Marie she groaned, “Or has dat fool been tuppin’ the girly?”

“He doesn’t owe me money and if he even thought about tuppin’ Marie he’d be dead before he could complete the thought,” Logan growled.

“Den you best kill me now, Logan, ‘cause she is one fine-
,” Marie turned to see who was speaking and found a tall man twirling a diamond tipped walking stick. He was wearing a dark tailored overcoat that framed his black silk shirt and well-worn black leather trousers; which he was wearing very well. His face was half hidden by the brim of his hat.The warning growl from Logan put a wicked smile on his face. Using the walking stick the man pushed the hat up and playfully ran his flashing red eyes over Marie before turning to the bartender, “They be wit’ me, Gigi, open up the back for me, cher?”

“Don’t you be gettin’ your thievin’ blood on mah brand new carpet,” Gigi warned as she pushed a button under the bar and a panel in the wall popped open.

“Remy wouldn’t dream of it, cher, if Remy’s gotta bleed he’ll do it outside, dat carpet be safe.”

They followed Remy behind the bar and through the hidden door; Marie was surprised that the noise from the bar just the other side of the wall couldn’t be heard from inside once the door was closed.

“Remy be damned,” the heavily accented voice broke the fresh silence; “kee-yaw, Logan but you ain’t aged a day. Remy he found him a grey hair in the mirror dis morn’ and the Wolverine still his same ol’ ugly self. Jus' don't seem fair, dat!”

“Hell, Remy, does that accent get thicker with age?”

Logan growled, with a smile. “Because I have to tell you it’s damned annoying.”

“Mah apologies,” Remy grinned, not looking at all apologetic. Turning to Marie he offered his hand, “mais beb, I be Remy.”

“Marie,” she smiled, taking his hand and ignoring Logan’s growl. Remy held on a bit longer than necessary and she knew he was doing it just to irritate Logan, so she let him have his fun. His face was unlined by the age he claimed was creeping up on him and his shoulder length hair was shiny and clean without a trace of, the mentioned, grey.

“You can give her hand back now,” Logan grumbled, and Remy winked conspiratorially at Marie as he dropped a kiss on the back of her hand before letting go of her fingers.

Marie decided this guy would be fun to have around, he reminded her of someone and in the next second, when he fingered a playing card and sent it into the air to burn away, she realized it was Jubilee. The thought startled a giggle from her; Logan didn’t like that, not one bit. "Sorry, Sugah," Marie apologised, feeling a bubble of happiness when she realized that Logan being all growly meant he was jealous.

“So,” Remy indicated a leather sofa for them to take a seat as he stretched lazily in a high backed wing chair. Pulling a deck of cards from his pocket he began idly shifting and flipping from one hand to the other as he spoke. “To wha’ do Remy owe dis visit? Got you plans to be tearin’ up; ‘cause as Ah remember it, you know how to show Remy a good time.”

Logan settled on the sofa and pulled Marie down beside him with an arm about her waist. “There’s a war brewin’.”

“Dats for sure,” Remy agreed. “But what does it have to do with Remy; Ah told you da last time Ah wasn’t gonna end up in a place like dat again.”

“You can sit on your ass afraid to take a stand,” Logan growled, his arm tightening around Marie’s waist, “but if we lose this fight they’ll be comin’ for you the same as the rest of us.”

“Ain’t that da truth,” Remy sighed, leaning forward in his chair to spread the cards out on the low table between them, never taking his eyes off of the pair on the couch, he made them slide and dance as if they were on strings. “You got a plan this time or are you just gonna drop in an’ tear the place to hell an’ back, like da last time?”

Logan grinned, a feral grin, as he pulled his arm from around Marie and laced their fingers together; leaning forward he plucked one of the cards off the table. “We ain’t talking about some secret laboratory that has been hidden from the American people; we’ll need a plan and to get one we’ll need information. Your den of thieves would be an asset.”

“We be thieves,” Remy frowned, “We fight, some, but we ain’t soldiers.”

“Ain’t lookin’ for soldiers,” Logan gestured with the card in his hand, “What we need is information and in order to get it we need mutants that ain’t afraid to fight dirty and have no love for government run ‘programs’.”

“Dat, Ah got,” Remy nodded, “tell me more.”

“I need to get someone inside Magneto’s camp,” Marie gasped and Logan paused to press his lips to her knuckles. “The hitch is that he has a telepath with him, probably one of the strongest, her name is Phoenix and she’s a telekinetic to boot. Whoever goes in needs to think they are scoutin’ a possible ally for you and your people, but they have to be mutant, Magneto has a hate on for anyone lacking mutation, and they have to be loyal to you. Buckethead is charismatic and almost as good at propaganda as Uncle Sam.”

“Shaa, but you don’t ask much,” Remy’s sarcasm was evident as he thought for a few moments. “Why don’t you fais dos dos; the chank-a-chank is hoppin’ ta night and Remy will think on what you be needin’.”

Logan nodded, tossing the playing card back onto the table. “Marie and I will find us a room for the night and see you in the morning.”

“Not too early, uh, Remy gonna need him some beauty sleep; by da looks o’ you, Wolverine, you could use a bit o’ dat, too.” The Cajun gathered his playing cards and tucked them in his inside pocket. “Remy knows a place fit for, le petite fille. Have a word, maybe two, wit’ Gigi on da way out her sista own a pretty little bed and breakfast off Canal Street on Royal,” Remy stood, twirled his walking stick and then tossed it into his vacant chair.

“Thank you,” Marie murmured with a smile as she let Logan pull her to her feet.

“It was Remy’s pleasure, cher!” Logan gestured to the wall and Remy laughed, “here,” walking over to the wall he turned the middle sconce to the right and the panel popped open.

“You be needin’ anyt’ing you jus’ call Nae-Nae and it be here in a trice, uh, cher.” The woman, much younger than her sister, smiled a wide toothy smile and pulled the door to the hall shut; leaving Logan and Marie standing in the middle of a room filled with girly furniture. The chairs were dainty and he feared to test his weight in them. The bed, which was set between two open glass doors, wasn’t much different. The headboard was wrought iron and it was covered with a fluffy pale pink, down comforter that was strewn with red rose petals and pulled back to reveal frilled white lace-trimmed sheets.

The table across the room held a vase of deep, red roses that accentuated the smells of the city carried in by the breeze fluttering through the shear, gauze curtains. An old fashioned looking blown glass hurricane lamp glowed with incandescent light that flickered as though it were a candle, but in fact was just a clever illusion of modern technology.

“This is a real nice place,” Marie murmured excitedly as she moved past him to open the bathroom door and squealed with delight. “A real claw-foot tub,” Logan turned to have a look and was just in time to catch an arm full of Marie. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and smiled down into his up-turned face.

Once Logan secured her against his chest she let one hand slide along his throat and then her finger nails rasped gentle along his whiskered cheeks and tore a groan from his chest. Her smile changed subtly then; mixed with the delight was a womanly awareness that sent his blood pumping through his veins southward, “Marie,” his voice was low, cracked and questioning. She silenced him with fingers on his lips and then with her kiss, lest he try to speak.

The kiss was slow and sweet, but it had a languidness that matched the soft strains of music filtering into the room from somewhere down the street. It stole his breathe and his reason as he snaked one hand into her hair and angled her head for his deepening kiss. Marie’s tiny hands fisted in his hair and her nails raked his scalp as she returned each sipping, biting caress.

Logan let his mouth leave hers and travel down to the tender flesh of her throat; the scrape of his teeth wringing a pleasured moan from her. The sharp tug of her hands in his hair pulled him from the temptation of following her collar bone to the edge of her blouse and then further south to her heaving chest and the bounty of her breasts.

“Ah’m makin’ love to you tonight Logan,” she informed him with that woman’s smile, once she had his attention. He tried to shake his head; she wasn’t ready, she needed more time, but she leaned down and bit his lip making it bleed. “Yes, Sugah,” she murmured as she licked at the already healed spot, savoring him.

Wriggling in his arms she leaned in and kissed him once more before she let her legs fall from around him and he set her on her feet. “Ah’m gonna go in there and have a bath,” she drawled, her eyes not meeting his as she picked up her bag. “If ya don’t want me…” She shrugged; he could hear the tiny thread of doubt that laced her words. “Ah ain’t gonna force ya, but Ah can’t share a bed with ya night-in and night-out if that’s the case.”

She was just about to slip into the bathroom when he reached out and caught her to him with an arm around her waist. Sit fit perfectly, her bottom snugged tight into his aching groin. He guided her head onto his shoulder with one large hand at her slender throat as he purred, “Oh, I want ya, Darlin’. Just ain’t sure you know what you’re getting yourself into is all,” he let his lips brush over her ear as his hands began to roam her body.

At first, Logan, stroked her belly and sides avoiding any of her more sensitive areas, “Do you like that, baby,” he growled, when she arched her back and cocked her hips trying to move his caressing fingers to the places she ached to feel them. “Want more,” he slipped one hand over her breast and even through her shirt and bra he felt the nipple harden.

“Logan,” she breathed, turning her head and catching his lips in a kiss punctuated by breathy moans and gasping breaths as his fingers toyed with the turgid peaks of her breasts and his muscled thigh found its way between her trembling legs, “God, Logan, please!” Lifting his thigh he moved against her once, twice and then he pulled away, roughly massaging her breast, nipping at her throat he ended the kiss.

Legs trembling like a new born colt Marie turned to him and the stark desire in her honeyed eyes thickened his blood hardening his already firm cock unbearably; Logan couldn’t remember a time he’d wanted anyone this damned bad. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, scenting Marie as he slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. Shrugging it off his shoulders he tossed it into a chair and his t-shirt followed close behind. Logan toed off his boots as he pulled his belt from the loops and tossed it onto the pile.

With a beckoning hand he called Marie to him, and she came licking her lips and eyes hungry. Smiling he lifted his hand to her cheek and let his fingers stroke gently along the smooth flesh of her throat, brushing her hard peaked nipple as he skimmed them to the hem of her shirt. Slowly, he grasped her hips with strong hands pulling her into him and then with deliberate motions pushed her shirt upward.

Marie raised her arms for him and as the shirt left her body her arms fell to his shoulders and her hands stroked over his chest the way he’d touched her. Her nails caught at his nipple and Logan couldn’t contain the growl it induced, bending he claimed her mouth in another deep kiss. Running his hands up her spine he deftly unfastened her lacy bra and when he pulled away ending the kiss he took the tiny garment with him.

Tossing her bra onto the growing pile on the chair Logan’s gaze raked over her naked breasts; they were heavier than he expected, lush and full. Ripe, he thought, firm…His.

Kneeling in front of her Logan wrapped his arms around her; one across her thighs and the other along her spine as he covered her breast with his hungry mouth and suckled deeply, his tongue massaging the hard tip. “L- Logan,” Marie gasped, making him smile.

Pushing himself to his feet Logan carried Marie to the bed, never letting her nipple slip from his lips. Laying her out over the petal strewn comforter Logan nipped her breast and circled the nipple with his tongue before moving to the other while his fingers unfastened her jeans. Pushing them from Marie’s hips Logan trailed biting kisses over her belly, stopping to thrust his tongue into the indention of her belly button as he slid from the bed to his knees.

Meeting her passion blurred gaze, Logan smiled as he pulled off her shoes and then her jeans and panties filling the room with the scent of crushed rose petals and Marie’s innocent desire. Tossing her clothes toward the chair but uncaring if they made it to the pile Logan circled her ankles with his hands and firmly placed them on the metal rail supporting the mattress. Skimming his fingers up her calves he curled them under her knees and spread her thighs, never once dropping her gaze.

Leaning forward he rubbed his stubbled cheeks against her milky thighs; placing a chaste kiss upon her hip bone, Logan pressed one hand to her lower belly. The other he used to caress the damp curls; teasing her with the blunt edge of his knuckles, stalling her breath in her chest. It only escaped when he ran the flat of his tongue over her lower lips tasting her.

“Sweet, Darlin’,” he murmured and used his stroking fingers to open her for a deeper taste. As soon as his tongue landed on her clitoris her hips tried to buck off the bed, but Logan tightened the restraining hand on her belly. Each lathe, every flick reaped pleas and incoherent ramblings from his beautiful thrashing Marie until she lost all control, coming with a keening cry.

Laying his head on her thigh, Logan stroked her quivering tummy soothingly before standing up and shucking his jeans. Pushing the pillows into a heap against the iron work headboard Logan gathered Marie into his arms and crawled into the center of the bed with her draped over his chest.

Marie stroked his cheek and lifted her lips to his kissing him tenderly, a huge smile playing across her face. “Thank you, Sugah,” she murmured as she shifted around and pushed herself onto her knees astride his muscled thighs, “but we ain’t finished yet.”

A wide, sexy smile crossed his features as his hands clamped down on her hips and pulled her naked sex tightly to his throbbing cock, “Didn’t cross my mind we were, Darlin’.” Letting his hands skim up her sides and round her shoulders Logan slide them to her wrists, circling them in an adamantium grip and stretched her hands above their heads to the decorative final atop the headboard, “grab hold, baby, and don’t let go,” he growled.

Her new position placed her just where he wanted her, on her knees with her hot, wet sex kissing his cock and her lushes breasts, right there level with his hungry mouth.

Burying one hand in her hair at the nape of her neck, Logan licked his tongue across her lips until her tongue snaked out to tangle with his. Using his free hand Logan stroked the head of his straining member back and forth along her wet heat; with each pass over her sensitive bundle Marie’s hips jerked. Finding her opening, he pressed into her just enough to let her know he was there, “Look at me, Marie,” he ground out, pressing her forehead to his.

Marie’s brown eyes fluttered open and met his proprietary gaze and Logan shifted his hips; his cock slowly stretching her virgin canal making her eyes widen and tear. Petting her hip and thigh Logan eased her down his shaft a little farther, he murmured, “So, good, baby! Tight just for me…”

Marie whimpered and bit her lip, her eyes falling closed; Logan tightened his grip on her hair and hip, “Look at me,” he growled, pleading, “God! Baby, look at me!” The moment Marie’s eyes opened to his Logan claimed her lips in an open mouthed kiss; thrust his hips upward until he filled her.

Startled by the abrupt penetration, so deep, Marie’s eyes widened; chest heaving she bit Logan’s lip until it bled. He didn’t try to move; she was so tight, strangling him with her wet heat. Logan just held her there, impaled upon him, while he stroked her with his large hands.

Kissing her lips tenderly, “Sorry, baby, didn’t want to hurt you.”

Letting his lips trail over her cheek and down her throat he lapped gently at her sweat drenched skin, sipping at her breasts while his fingers glided lovingly over her skin. Swallowing, Logan let his head fall back onto the metal headboard; his eyes watching hers as he gentled her with his hands.

When fresh tears slipped from her eyes his thumbs brushed them away, “Ah never thought,” she murmured, her lips seeking his. “Ah never imagined,” she pulled one of her hands from the headboard and pressed it to her lower belly. “Ah was made for this, Logan, for you.”

The band of his arms tightened and her other hand left the headboard to bury its self in his hair as he rolled her beneath him with a fierce kiss. Logan’s only thought was that he’d found it, that missing piece he’d evidently been searching for over a hundred years; here in this girl. Lifting his head, Logan frowned as he murmured, “I love you.”

Stroking his cheek, Marie smiled, “Ah love you, too, Sugah.”

Logan grasped her to him as he began to move within her with long, deep thrusts, stealing her breath. Marie arched her back pressing her head into the pillows, offering Logan her throat as his movements began to speed up; the sound of the creaking bed springs and their labored breathing drowning out the music floating in from the street. The steady thud of metal on brick emphasized masculine growls and feminine cries of, “More, gawd, Logan, please!”

On the street below an old man shook his head chuckling as he hurried beneath their window in a hurry to get home and Nae-Nae sipped her tea with a knowing smile as she murmured, “Me knew day have da mojo for dat room.”

Marie was on her knees; Logan stretched over her back his teeth bearing down on her shoulder, and their fingers tangled and grasping the curled edges of the claw-foot tub as he thrust into her, the sound of their naked flesh squelching along damp, porcelain accompanying the sound of water splashing onto the tile floor. Logan had been pounding into her like this for most of the night and into the day. Hard, rough thrusts reaching deep inside her testing her body’s limits and Marie loved it.

“Jesus, Sugah,” she keened; as he thrust so deep he brought her off her knees, “Gawd!”

They hadn’t slept a wink, but she wasn’t tired; her pilfered healing factor giving her the stamina to keep up with Logan’s appetites. He’d been inside her in one form or another since he claimed her the night before and all Marie could think was, “More!”

Logan had been gentle a good deal of the time, but there was something about the tub that had set off his more feral side. She thought it had something to do with his diminishing scent on her skin; he hadn’t minded her need to bath, he’d even carried her into the bathroom and feasted on her spread thighs as the water filled the tub.

It was only after she’d slide into the hot water and begun to run the washcloth over her body that he’d growled, his eyes dark. In a flash he’d had her on her knees and impaled on his cock as he pinned her in place with his bulk and the sharp bite of his teeth.

He’d come once already and she’d come twice, but he kept up his frantic pace and Marie writhed just as wantonly beneath his pinioning hips. Pleasure spiked through her and she felt a hollowing need to bite down on his flesh; mark him with her teeth. Turning her face into his bicep she bit down hard as she came; her inner muscles milking Logan’s straining cock. When he came it was with a mighty, animalistic roar that was only muffled by her shoulder.
________________________________________

Remy entered the bed and breakfast at half past eleven and was met with Nae-Nae’s Cheshire grin, “Mornin’, cher, what put such demon gleam in your eye so early in da-,” his question was interrupted, by a familiar southern voice screaming, “Jesus, Sugah,” and a few seconds later it was followed up with, “Gawd!”

“Day be good mojo,” she laughed at Remy’s startled face, “Day been tuppin’ like dat all through da black and slept not a wink, me”

Remy frowned, as he thought on her words and the same lilting southern drawl demanded, “More!” He was a man that knew how to enjoy himself a woman, but he didn’t have it in him to grasp the possibility of keeping pace with Wolverine. He found himself worried for the petite fille as what Remy could only describe as an animal roar echoed through the hotel.

“You t’ink the petite fille be okay,” he asked, his frown deepening as the rhythmic sound of bed springs creaking and headboard thumping accompanied the sounds of the delicate thing screaming, “Harder, Jesus, Gawd, Logan, please!”

“Le Bon Dieu, she sound near dead,” Nae-Nae snickered, “Wish Ah die so good, me,” She poured Remy a cup of coffee and dirtied it up with a splash of bourbon; carrying it to him she set a plate of piping hot beignet, powdered with sugar, in front of him. “Nae-Nae read da bones, her, and d’em say Remy gonna be meetin’ him own petite fille, tout suite, but d’er be some heavy-heavy comin’ first.”

Remy frowned into his cup; Nae-Nae’s words causing an ache somewhere in the region his heart should be. Lifting a beignet in salute, he grinned, boyishly at Nae-Nae, “dôn put d agree gree on ol’ Remy; dare be-“

“Dôn do dat,” Nae-Nae smacked the back of his hand with her spoon making him drop the fried dough; her eyes were fierce when he met her obsidian gaze “You got an ahnvee, a longin’ inside you chest, beb, Nae-Nae see it, me. Remy
not a bonne home, cher, no chu-chut. Dôn be pretendin’ you not be wantin’ to be wed, dat you be vieus garcon all you days. Mon garcon ain’t just a t’ing dem fille play wit! You be makin' good very good livin’ wit' da thievin'.”

“Dat dôn matta at all, nâ-nân, Remy set in him ways he ain’t gens, gettin’ older, him!” Remy frowned, across the table at Nae-Nae, she had the look in her eye that said she wouldn’t be giving up anytime soon and that Remy was a fool if he didn’t take heed to her words of wisdom. “Love be like cache-et-fete, hide and seek, to Remy.”

“Din you be canaille, is you not a t’ief or is? If’n love be hid you chercher, look high an’ low ‘til you get eyes on da bebette. Din you vay-yay wit’ da girl, tell what dreams Remy got an' what him t'inks, you. She see da real Remy an’ she be content.”

Remy sighed as he swallowed his cooling coffee. Nae-Nae seemed to think he should search for love that it was out there waiting for him but Remy knew the truth; there was something inside him that was broken. His own parents had abandoned him; left Remy to fend for himself and when his mutation had manifested his second family, the thieves guild, had rejected him, as well.

“Look la petite fille,” Nae-Nae exclaimed and Remy looked up to find, Marie standing in the doorway with a large smile on her face. “Sit, Nae-Nae cook diner for you and da loupgarou, tout suite.”

“What’s a loupgarou,” Marie asked Nae-Nae, a puzzled look on her face.

“Dat man o’ yourn like a…What da word, Remy?”

“Ah believe the word you are lookin’ for is werewolf,” Remy smirked.

“Sure, but sexy, him, wit’ dat smile,” Nae-Nae laughed as she started to fry up sausage and bacon.

Marie approached the table and Remy noticed that she was careful to sit three seats away from him, but once she was seated she spoke, “Good mornin’, Remy, we ain’t kept ya waitin’ too long have we?”

“Not long, mais beb, Remy was just vay-yay wit’ Nae-Nae to pass de time.” Remy smiled, and nudged his half eaten plate of beignet toward Marie, “You look peaked, cher, you be needin’ to keep up your strength.”

Marie froze and her eyes widened as a blush stole across her cheeks and down her neck; she looked mortified and for a moment Remy felt guilty. “Remy didn’t know the peeshwank had it in ‘im, but he be glad to see you still kickin, petite beb, all dat screamin’ Remy t’ought da dead be wakin’!” It was a short moment.

“Stop,” Logan growled, and Remy could see his fingers fisting at his sides.

Remy watched as Marie gave Logan a come-hither grin, murmuring, “Well, Sugah, Remy’s got a point Ah think Ah saw god a time or two. So, maybe we did raise the dead.”

“Don’t know about god, baby, I was watching an angel.” Remy almost choked on his beignet. Looking at Logan right then, with that sappy smile it was hard to believe he was a badass; a glance at Marie confirmed she was beaming at Logan as if he’d just hung the moon.

“Do Remy a favor,” he snorted, “you be shootin’ him if he go spoutin’ clichés, tout suite!”

“You be sittin’, Logan, Nae-Nae be cookin’ and you be eatin’!”

Logan crossed the room and took the seat closest to Marie; immediately he pulled her chair closer and she snuggled into his arms. Remy thought if she were a cat she would be purring the way Logan stroked her. He didn’t think he’d seen Logan touch anyone as much as he did Marie; if she was in reach Logan’s fingers, hand or leg was caressing her.

Nae-Nae served up a feast for kings and both Logan and Marie put enough away to feed most of the city. After the food was finished they sat around the table discussing the coming conflict. “Remy gone and sent dix, uh- dat be ten, men to meet up wit’ your Phoenix.”

“She ain’t his,” Marie growled. Remy sensed there was history there and decided against commenting when Logan leaned in and murmured in Marie’s ear soothingly, massaging the nape of her neck.

“Ah be gonna go wit’ you,” he nodded at them as he twirled a playing card in his left hand. “Da be in contact when da got what be needed.”

“Good,” Logan nodded, “you can hold your own in a fight and that school is full of milquetoast. Don’t get me wrong; some of them have skill but they won’t go for the kill. Professor Xavier bred it out of them I guess you’d say.”

“Remy know about de X-men,” he challenged Logan’s assessment, “Day don’t seem so afraid.”

“They aren’t,” Logan agreed, “I didn’t say they were afraid of conflict, I said they wouldn’t go for the kill; they’re afraid of the hard decisions.”

“You mean,” Remy understood, “day would surrender if need be to keep the body count low and da humans happy.”

“Exactly,” Logan growled, “You heard about Liberty Island?”

“Yeah, dat was some heavy-heavy, dat!” Remy and his den had been in New York during that whole event, world leaders loved their diamonds.

“Magneto, took Marie,” Marie laid her head on his shoulder and Logan shuffled his fingers through her hair the way Remy shuffled his cards. “She’s unique, my Marie, she was sixteen years old. Magneto and his group came after Marie and as you might guess I was pretty useless against his mutation. I watched the mission logs for that night, Xavier had Magneto; he had him! Sabertooth under Xavier’s control had Magneto by the throat, but Buckethead threatened about twenty humans by turning their own guns on them. When Xavier challenged him he fired one of the weapons and stopped the bullet just before the human was killed. Xavier released him; let them take Marie, use her in that damn machine, nearly kill her.”

“There were twenty humans at stake Logan,” Marie murmured.

“I don’t give a fuck, Marie!” Logan growled, pressing his forehead to hers. “Sabertooth could have snapped his neck, he’d have been dead instantly and both you and the humans would have been safe.”

“But the bullet,” she frowned.

“When Magneto released the weapons everything just fell to the ground,” Logan replied, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye, “he’d stopped the bullet’s forward momentum; without his push it was harmless.”

“Remy got twenty men, him.” Nae-Nae spoke up pulling their attention to her, “How many there be, in dat school, you say? What can fight...?”

“Ten,” Logan sighed, “if we’re lucky and that is counting me and Marie.” The room was silent after that revelation. That was hardly an army and if what Logan said was true then it was going to get worse before it got better.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” Marie broke the silence with a tentative voice. “Logan ain’t gonna be of much use in a face to face with Magneto,” she patted his knee when he growled. “Ain’t your fault, Sugah.”

“We’ll pitch battle at more than one location,” Logan muttered. “Range it out keep him too busy to single me out.”

“Ah ain’t losin’ ya,” she slapped the table making dishes rattle. “Ah got a plan and Ah think it might work; so, stop your growlin’ and listen up.”

Remy thought for a minute that he was about to see a fight between the love birds, but a slow, proud smile curved Logan’s lips and he pulled Marie in for a devastating kiss as he murmured, “that was damned hot, Darlin’.” Marie giggled and then shoved the goofily smiling mutant away.

“So, what be da plan, petite fille,” Remy added the endearment just to piss off Logan, but it hardly dimmed the man’s smile.

“Logan and I,” Marie paused for effect, “Join Magneto’s side.”

The planning took the better part of the afternoon, but when they were finished a sense of urgency pervaded the New Orleans’ night that followed. Remy left to gather the rest of his den of thieves and Nae-Nae sent Marie and Logan off to bed with a saucy, “bon temps, bebettes!”

When they reached their room Logan softly closed the door and leaned back against it; his eyes caressing Marie’s face with tender caring sweeps. “It’s a good plan,

Darlin’.” Pushing away from the door he moved to stand over her, “that’s for tomorrow, though.” Slowly, his fingers loosed the buttons on her blouse and smoothed it off her shoulders. “Tonight,” he murmured and just as carefully he unfastened her bra and she let it fall to the floor at her feet as his fingers worked to render her completely bare to him, “is ours, baby.”

Swallowing, Marie moved in close and her slender fingers dragged the white cotton t-shirt from his jeans and she slowly pushed it up and off of him; it feel to the floor, with her discarded garments, at their feet, and she knelt upon them as she tugged the belt from his jeans and undid the buttons holding his jeans in place. When his jeans joined the pile, Logan tried to guide Marie to her feet, but she gently pulled from his grasp. “We done everything else,” she murmured her eyes slumberous as she met his guess, “except this.”

Leaning in she pressed her lips to his muscled belly, finding the vein that had caught her attention three days earlier she followed its downward journey with the flat of her tongue. “Marie,” Logan groaned, his hands fisting in her silky hair.

Smiling, up into his pleasure tortured face she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his bellybutton. “Ah know what ya like, Sugah, Ah’ve felt the echo of it a thousand times. It used to wake, me up dreamin’ the way they made ya feel; never thought Ah’d ever have the chance to pleasure ya the same as them.”

Falling to sit on her heels Marie pressed her nose into the dark curls at the base of his throbbing shaft. “This is so much more than that, Marie,” he whispered as she took his heavy sac into her mouth and fondled them with her tongue; she knew it was just the way he liked it to be done, none of the others had known what Logan liked best, but Marie did. “You are so much more than any of them to me.”

Grasping his member in her fist she squeezed, Logan’s reaction didn’t disappoint as he roughly dragged her mouth from her self appointed task and brought her lips to the head of his cock. Laughing, she obliged him and began rhythmically suckling the sensitive head and prodding it with her tongue; while her hand fisted and stroked.

“Marie,” he growled, his fingers massaging her scalp. “Jesus, Baby! Stop, oh, damn!” He was close; Marie smiled, and using her tongue she pressed him to the roof of her mouth, slowly she began to take him deeper. She knew what he liked, what he craved and gave it to him; as her white little teeth scraped lightly over his flesh he came with a roar. Every muscle in his body strained and bulging as she drank him down; he fell to his knees when she pulled away with one final suckling swirl of her tongue over the tip of his cock. His hands tangled in her long hair curled over her shoulders pulling her to him as he recovered.

Silently, after this body was once more firmly under his control Logan lifted Marie into his arms and carried her to their bed. Laying her in the center of the soft mattress he climbed in behind her and guided her onto her side with her back to his chest. Cradling her head in one palm Logan kissed her languidly all the while his other hand stroked and explored.

Lifting her left leg and draping it over his hip Logan slowly filled her, stealing her breath, but he stopped her movements when she tried to coax him deeper. “No,” he murmured against her lips, letting his fingers comb through her curls and find that nub that seemed to hold the key to her pleasure. With gentle strokes and probing kisses Logan brought Marie to her own completion without one single thrust of his cock within her.

“Logan,” she breathed, tightening her inner muscles around him.

“Shh…” Logan whispered, tenderly brushing her hair from her sweat-slicked cheeks. “Sleep, baby, I just want to feel you like this.” Nuzzling his face into her neck he toyed absently with one hardened nipple as they lay together enveloped in the sensual heat of the night; drifting into perfect, dreamless sleep.
________________________________________

The next day found Logan and Marie on the highway back to Meridian and her parents. The sun was rising in the east and the sky glowed orange as they set out, fat and happy, after one of Nae-Nae’s bountiful breakfasts. Logan guided the SUV with one hand on the wheel and the other hand clasped in both of Marie’s.

He’d awakened that morning, tangled with her lithe form and he was damned sure he’d never slept that good in all his life. Smiling like a fool Logan pulled one of her hands to his mouth and kissed the back, “you okay, Darlin’?”

“Ah am fine,” she murmured her voice warm and slow as molasses. “An’ you, Sugah?”

“Hell, Marie, I haven’t ever felt this damned good,” he told her and the lazy smile that seemed to be plastered on his features since their first night in New Orleans widened.

“Ya know ya should probably wipe that look off o’ your face or mah daddy is gonna know what ya been up to,” she laughed.

“I think I’ll take my chances, Darlin’,” Logan laughed, glancing at her briefly. “You call the firecracker?”

“Yeah,” Marie sighed, “An’ I ask Daddy to call and let Storm know they been havin’ a bit o’ trouble with one o’ their kids.”

“That ought to get the team here,” Logan nodded, “you tell your parents what we got planned?”

“To a point, Sugah,” Marie sighed, “Ah don’t want ‘em worrin’ ‘bout what Ah’m doin’; just told ‘em Ah needed to get some things settled, is all.”

“It ain’t too late to back out,” Logan assured her as he pulled his cigar from his pocket and lit up. “We haven’t set anything in motion that can’t be stopped.” The ‘yet’ was loud clanging noise reverberating within the SUV, even though it never left Logan’s mouth; it was simply understood. Marie knew they could turn back now, but they both also knew that they had a better chance of subverting war from the inside.

“We do this,” she murmured, her eyes studying Logan’s profile. “Better to alienate a few friends than watch ‘em die.” Logan wrapped a finger around the fat cigar and clenched the wheel a little tighter as he scowled out the windscreen. “What are ya thinkin’?”

Logan shot her a quick look, but his eyes found the road again quickly. With a heavy sigh he looked back at her and then away out his side window for a moment. “When we join up with them, she’ll be there.”

“You tryin’ to tell me somethin’?”

"Yeah, kid-," Logan sighed.

Marie sucked in a surprised breath, her heart twisting and her eyes prickling with the ache of tears, “You tryin’ to tell me somethin’?”

“Yeah, kid I-,” Marie saw red, one second she was steeping in impending heartbreak and the next she was boiling like a kettle left to long on the flame. Hauling off, she punched him as hard as she could in the shoulder, “Fuck, what they hell, Marie!?”

“So, what, ya gonna just move on,” She demanded, and moved to whack him again, but Logan caught her fist and held it in a firm grip. “Ah can’t believe-,”

“What,” Logan’s voice wasn’t raised, when he spoke, but it conveyed his anger as clearly as if he’d roared at the top of his lungs. “What the hell are ‘you’ saying, Marie?”
Tears slipped from her eyes as she snatched her hand from his and folded her arms around herself protectively. “Now,” she glared, “it’s Marie; just a second ago it was kid.”

“It’s a term of endearment,” he growled, his eyes narrowed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Just say it, Logan,” Marie pleaded as she turned away from him. “Just tell me.”

“What,” Logan demanded, “I don’t know what the hell happened. One minute I am trying to bring up the fact that Jeannie will be able to read our thoughts and the next I’m being attacked.”

Marie froze; her startled gaze finding Logan’s scowling face. “Ya weren’t tryin’ to say it was nice fuckin’ ya, Marie, but Ah’m lookin’ forward to seein’ her again?” The glacial look the slid over Logan’s face was frightening, but not nearly as frightening as the way he jerked the wheel and swerved across two busy lanes to turn onto an access road without a signal or a glance. Their exit from the interstate was heralded by blaring horns and squealing tires. “Logan?”

The SUV skidded on the dirt road and gravel flew helter-skelter when Logan slammed on the brakes making the vehicle fish tail. Marie was surprised the gear stick didn’t snap off with the force Logan put behind shifting into park. He hadn’t looked at her once since she spoke, his nostrils were flared and his hands clenched the wheel as though it was the only thing keeping him from wringing her neck.

“Get out,” his voice was flat, angry.

“Wh-what,” she stammered. He didn’t mean to just leave her here did he?

“Get out of the car, Rogue, and run like hell,” his growled words were warning and demand.

“No,” she shook her head.

“You’ll do what I say, ‘Little Girl’,” Logan snarled, the steely gaze that penetrated her wasn’t a look she’d seen on his face before; it felt like someone else was looking at her.

“Ah-no,” she unfastened her seatbelt and moved toward him, stopping when Logan released a warning growl from his throat. “Ah misunderstood,” she moved to approach him again, but he shoved his door open and left her sitting in the car alone. Before he took off into the forest at a dead run.

Following him as quickly as she could, Marie caught up to him about a quarter mile from the SUV. She knew the only reason she was able to catch him was because he’d allowed her to do so. He stood, back muscles bulging, arms held slightly out at his sides with his claws gleaming in the sunlight. The look on his face twisted her heart as he turned his head and met her gaze. “You think I was fucking you, Marie?”

The pain lacing his words clawed at her heart and she shook her head, “No.”

The bitter laugh that escaped his chest startled her. “Don’t lie to me, Darlin’, I can smell it remember.”

“Ah ain’t lyin’,” she denied.

“You think,” he turned to face her and his words were punctuated by another step closer to her, “I’m.” step, “a rutting,” step, “animal!”

“Ah don’t,” she stepped closer to him, “It’s just she’s so beautiful.”

“Naturally,” Logan nodded, “you think that I’d fuck you six ways till Sunday and then say, ‘Thanks for spreadin’ your legs, darlin’,’ all because she’s got choice tits and legs that lead to an ass that won’t quit.”

“Now,” she growled stepping right up to Logan until her chest pressed into his, “you’re just tryin’ to piss me off!”

“Well,” he growled, “you know what they say about misery loving company.”

“Ah’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he whispered, as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder. “There are three things we need to get straight here and now,” his voice rumbled and vibrated through her as he spoke. “First, I have never fucked you. Fucking, is shoving you against the wall, pushing your panties aside so I can ram into you until ‘I’ come and then leavin’ you standing there unfulfilled with nothin’ but my seed dripping between your thighs.”

“Logan, Ah-,” she started to speak, but he silenced her with a nip to the shoulder.

“Second, you are mine,” he growled, “body and soul; the same as I am yours. Don’t even think about toying with some poor schmuck or he’ll die before he can twitch. Nobody touches what’s mine, Marie. I’ll abide by the same rules and expect you to protect your territory. If you didn’t have my healing you’d walk around with my mark on you; only think I regret is not marking you permanent before you acquired the healing.” As if to emphasize his words he angled his head and bit her throat, “third, no physical violence! If you get angry with me we talk, but words hurt more than enough; I see no need to add physical pain to the mix. Do you understand, Marie?”

“Yes,” she nodded, her arms enfolding him as he wrapped her in his. “Ah’m sorry,” Marie murmured.

“Good,” he growled as he began peeling her clothes from her body, “I need to feel you.”

It was three hours later that they finally pulled back onto the interstate and another three before they arrived back in Meridian, Mississippi. Three seemed to be the magic number.

Marie waited in the sanctuary of her father’s church for Jubilee to find an excuse to get away from the rest of the X-Men; she hoped her friend would make it quick there was only a short window of opportunity for this plan to go off without a hitch.

Logan and Remy were meeting in the small room that led to the baptismal, because Logan thought Jube would feel more secure if she wasn’t feeling pressured to accept their plan, to discuss the new information Remy’s thieves had already uncovered in regard to Magneto’s ultimate plan.

The Cajun mutant had looked shaken by the information he received when one of his ten thieves arrived from Phoenix’s camp that morning just after Remy and the others pulled in from the road. Remy had taken an extra day in New Orleans to be sure his thieves were ready for the coming ordeal.

Logan said he would fill her in on the new information as soon as she had Jube’s primed for the plan; he’d looked haunted when he met her gaze and that spoke volumes about how disturbing the news was from the front line.

Marie was startled out of her thoughts by the creaking of the sanctuary door opening and was relieved to find Jubilee alone. With a squeal Jube’s launched herself at
Rogue with all her usual ardor, “Chica,” she proclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her friend. “This is all so cloak and dagger-y.”

“Well, there is a war goin’ on,” Marie informed her rolling her eyes a little, “what sorts of things are y’all hearin’ about the government and Magneto?”

“Not much, Chica, Hank and Storm are treating the beta team like mushrooms.”

“Sounds about what we expected then,” Marie nodded. “Logan and Remy will let you in on the newest information once I set the stage, so to speak.”

“What is goin’ on,” Jubilee asked as she stretched her gum over her tongue and blew a small bubble that she immediately popped and began chewing again. “You said on the phone you guys had some idea how to end the conflict.”

“Well,” Marie sighed, “you know Logan can’t go head to head with Magneto because of his skeleton, right?”

Jubilee nodded and rolled her fingers in a go-on motion when Marie hesitated. “Well, we decided we would join Magneto’s group and with the help of Remy’s den try and end the whole thing before it can blow up.”

“You’re going to play spy,” Jubes laughed excited, “cool!”

“That’s the plan, but in order for Magneto to buy into our idea we have to break from the X-men in a very public way.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Jubilee nodded, “so how public?”

“We’re going to attack the X-Men when they try to take Decan,” Marie ignored the other girl’s gasp of surprise. “Decan is one of the youngest in Remy’s den only thirteen.”

“Who is this Remy,” Jubes asked, tension in her voice, “you plan to attack the X-men?”

“Well, really only one of them,” Marie chewed her lip as she met her friends eyes and she nearly laughed when Jubilee cottoned onto the gist of the plan. “As for Remy,” the door behind her opened and Marie knew the instant Jubilee saw Remy because her mouth fell open and her gum landed in a wad on the Sanctuary carpet. “Well, you did ask me to bring you a present.”