Keoma, Alberta
There he is, Marie thought.
Everyone else in the crowded bar seemed to fade away as her eyes focused on solely on Logan. He was back in a corner, alone and hunched over a small table. She could make out a row of empty glasses in front of him and watched as he threw back one more and set it down. He lifted his head again and cocked it to the side, sensing something.
Sensing her.
And now, after traveling hundreds of miles to find him, she couldn't seem to move. She took a deep breath and felt herself tremble. It was so many things--excitement, relief, fear. She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself, but she couldn't. Not with him being this close.
Marie opened her eyes just as his finally settled on her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and beneath her gloves, her palms grew damp. She clenched them into fists as she put one foot in front of the other and willed herself to move forward.
Logan got up and for a second, she thought maybe he was going to run. Instead, he stared at her. She saw his nostrils flare and an eyebrow arch, but he stood his ground as she covered the remaining distance between them.
Marie stopped a few feet in front of Logan and opened her mouth. She had practiced something to say, but it was instantly forgotten. The emptiness that has settled in her heart when he left was gone, as well as, it seemed, the ability to speak.
"Hey," she eventually managed.
"Hey," Logan said back.
"This seat taken?" Marie asked, dropping into it before he could tell her no. It was where he was sitting and it was still warm. She made herself comfortable while he postured and looked around some more before sitting down across from her. Logan picked up the remainder of a cigar from the ashtray, set it between his index and middle fingers and scooted his chair in closer.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, his tone harsher than she expected. She didn't let it discourage her.
"Lookin' for you," she answered simply. "You said you were comin' back..."
"No, I said I'd be back for..."
Logan gestured towards the dog tag hanging around her neck and resting just above her breasts. His eyes lingered there for a second before he turned them away. She brought her hand up and twisted the piece of metal around gloved fingers.
"I thought you were comin' back for me," she said, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.
"Well, you thought wrong, kid," he said, leaning back in his chair. He inhaled deep on his cigar and blew it out. She wasn't sure if the 'kid' was for his benefit or for hers. Either way, it wasn't true anymore.
"Not about you," she said, her southern accent drawling out the words. She paused before adding, "I have you in my head, remember?"
That made him look uneasy.
"Did Xavier put you up to this?" he asked, waving a hand around his head. "Did he find me using that...whatever he calls it?"
"It's time to come back," Marie said, ignoring the question. She reached for the glass in front of her and winced as she swallowed whatever was left down. Before it was even off her lips, Logan extended his hand to take it away.
"You're not legal," he stated, setting it down hard.
"I'm eighteen now," Marie said, raising her chin. It wasn't a reference to the drinking age.
"Good for you," Logan replied, shifting in his seat. Now, Marie was the one staring. "What?"
"It's time to come back," she said again, making it less of a request and more of a statement. "Whatever answers you're lookin' for, you won't find them out here."
"I'm not going to find them at the school for gifted freaks," Logan snapped back.
"Well, I have," Marie said. She knew it would take more than words with him. She slowly peeled away the glove from her right hand and leaned in towards him. Marie brought her hand up to his cheek and let it hover just above his skin. Logan jerked back immediately.
"Hey," he began shakily, eyes flickering from her hand to her face and back again.
"S'okay," Marie reassured, drawing her hand back a little.
"What's okay?" Logan asked, confused.
"This," she pleaded, reaching for his face again. Her hand trembled. He didn't trust anyone, but he would trust her.
Cautiously, Logan leaned in.
Marie's heart pounded loud in her chest as her fingertips slid over his cheek, over the rough stubble before drifting over his bare skin. Logan jaw clenched and she felt the muscles tighten.
Just as the pull started, she closed her eyes and focused on stopping it. Once she did, she felt it shift and change and turn inward. Coupled with that, was the sensation of skin on skin contact. With Logan. That sent a different kind of energy through her; one that didn't have a thing to do with her mutation. She lost her concentration and let her hand break away. She sighed and fell back.
"How did you..."
"See what you've missed," Marie said, catching her breath. She slipped her glove back on her hand, tugging and flexing it back into place before slumping forward. That was what it took to control it--her life in exchange. She closed her eyes as the drain hit her.
"You okay?" she heard Logan say, then felt his hand on her forearm through her coat. Strong fingers clutched softly, but firmly and she opened her eyes. His were filled with concern, with whatever it was she knew he felt for her.
"Just tired," Marie said and she was. His next question surprised her.
"Where are you staying tonight?"
"Wherever you are," she replied, as boldly as she could. Now that she'd found him, she wasn't going to let him slip away.
He turned his head and she expected to be scolded, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he got up, threw some money on the table and walked off.
Then, he stopped.
Marie smiled to herself before sliding out of her chair to join him.
"It's..."
"It's what?" Logan repeated, leaning over her to flip on the light switch. It flickered twice before staying on. She clutched her small bag and surveyed the room he'd been staying in. There wasn't much to see. The wallpaper was torn and stained. The only furniture was a rumpled bed and a broken chair. He brought his lips close to her ear. "Cozy?" he finished, remembering what she'd called his trailer so long ago.
"You," she said instead, turning her eyes up to his. "It's you."
"Is that a compliment?" he mumbled, moving away from her and towards the bed. He sat down on it, took out a cigarette from his pocket and lighted it. He kept the pack out. "Want one?"
She dropped her bag by the door and walked over to where he was. Marie sat beside him and the bed creaked loudly under their combined weight. She shifted and their shoulders touched, but neither pulled away.
She still had her cloak on and she pushed the hood back. Her hair came tumbling out, the white streaks framing her face. He studied them for a second, resisting the urge to touch, and she shrugged.
"Told you I liked it."
He held the pack up but instead of reaching for a cigarette, she took the one dangling from his lips. Marie dropped it on the hard wood floor and crushed it out with her foot.
"I have others," Logan stated.
"You shouldn't smoke," she said, folding her hands onto her lap. She started stripping off her gloves and he couldn't help but watch as she exposed her once fatal skin.
Apparently, she could touch.
"You didn't find anything, did you?" Marie asked and his eyes lifted from her hands to her face. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but he couldn't lie to Marie.
"Nothing good," he answered. "Just...memories I'd rather forget."
Memories she shared. Memories she'd probably rather forget as well.
"If they did this to you, they've done it to others," she said, one hand shifting off her lap and onto his arm. It was the ease at which she did it that made him raise an eyebrow, not the contact itself.
Fuck.
That was the problem he had with Marie and it had nothing to do with age or mutations or even common sense. From the moment he met her in that bar in Laughlin City, the bond was there.
"I want answers," he said, pushing those thoughts aside. "Unlike you, I wasn't born this way. Someone is responsible and I want to find out who."
"And we'll find them," Marie said as if it was that simple. It wasn't.
"Not your fight, Rogue," Logan said, using her other name. He couldn't help but smirk a little at how it still didn't seem to suit her. Not when he said it, anyway.
"Yes, it is," she maintained, that hand sliding up his arm until it rested on his shoulder. "If it's yours, it's mine."
"Nice rhetoric. Are they teaching you that in school, too?" Logan replied, shrugging her hand off. She needed to get off his bed and just leave before she managed to convince him otherwise.
Instead, Marie lay back, exhausted. The bed creaked again and Logan twisted his head to find her closing her dark eyes.
Words weren't going to work with her.
"Where's your helmet?" Marie asked as Logan adjusted the saddle pack over the back of the bike. Scott's bike, or what was left of it. Logan looked up long enough to raise an eyebrow. "You shouldn't go ridin' without a helmet."
"Don't need one," he muttered as he finished up. Marie wasn't surprised all of his belongings fit into the twin leather pouches. He tapped a finger to his forehead. "Got the adamantium plates."
"I don't," she said, clutching her cloak as a cold breeze whipped around her. She hadn't slept much, just watched silently as Logan gathered his things in the dim hours. She had been expecting more resistance. A lot more.
"Is it going to be problem?" Logan asked, stepping around the bike towards her. Marie let her eyes drift over his lean body and something stirred deep within her knowing she'd be pressed up against it all the way back to Westchester.
"Just don't drive all crazy-like," she said, her pulse quickening.
"I'll take it easy just for you," Logan promised, swinging one leg over the bike and settling in. He wrapped his fists around the handles and slid his hips forward on the seat to make room for her. He looked at her and waited.
After remembering to breathe, Marie climbed on behind Logan.
"Ready?" Logan asked with a glance behind his shoulder. Before she could answer, he kicked the starter. "Get in closer or else you're going to fall off," he yelled over the engine.
Fearful he'd just start moving, Marie wrapped her arms fast around him. She tucked her cold face into the warmth of his neck, making sure to keep a layer between his skin and hers. She felt the vibration of the motor between her thighs and up through his body, humming and pulsing under the restraint.
Logan let go of one handles and moved her arms lower down to his waist, muttering something about a death grip.
"Sorry!" she called out, loud enough that he could hear. She pulled her legs in and up against the bike and Logan, feet perching on small ledges. Adrenaline began to course through her veins, elevating her pulse even more.
This was what it was like to be with Logan. Or be Logan.
All those days he was in recovery, she had taken on more than just his memories. She'd absorbed his traits as well and understood him in a way no one else could. She felt his anger, his pain, but most of all--his loneliness. It rivaled her own.
The bike pitched forward, then took off fast with a loud squeal.
It didn't take long for Marie to realize they were headed in the wrong direction.
Alikali Lake, British Columbia
Hours later, they were there.
"Where are we?" Marie asked, slowly unwinding her arms from around his waist. He missed the now-familiar pressure of her body against his own. Logan killed the engine, then looked back to see her wide-eyed expression. "Is this..."
"Yeah," he confirmed as they dismounted. Marie tugged her hood back over her head and around her face, red now from the wind and the cold. Her quivering lips were chapped and pale and she pressed them together to keep them still.
"Why did you bring me here, Logan?" she asked slowly. Her gaze was steady and measured, like her voice. So trusting. Too trusting, but he knew she was only like that with him.
"I'm not the only one who might remember something," he said, taking a few steps toward what was left of the military compound. It was hidden deep in the Canadian Rockies and not on any map. Marie caught up and walked close by.
"What about Jean?" she asked, stealing a glance at his face. Logan stopped and so did she. She drew back. "She read your mind, didn't she?"
Her tone amused him. "Jealous?"
"It's different with us," she maintained. "She just sees things and I feel..."
Marie stopped talking. He knew what she was going to say, and spared her from saying it.
"Believe me, kid, that thought disturbs me even more," he said, moving again. He didn't want to know just how much of himself she'd absorbed or how much about his sordid past she knew.
"Marie," she corrected, right as they came upon the thick, chained fence protecting the perimeter. He saw her tense as she clutched one hand through the links and peered ahead at the structure.
Recognition registered in her eyes.
Logan sniffed at the air and didn't sense anyone else. He took a few steps back from her and surveyed the fence, deciding where the best place to slash it would be. He geared himself up and braced for the inevitable pain.
Fast, just do it fast, he told himself.
"Don't move," he instructed, holding a palm up. Marie instantly froze. Her eyes widened more as she waited.
He lifted the outstretched hand higher and with a quick snap, let the blades rip through, separating skin and scraping bone until they were fully extended. With one clean motion, he sliced diagonally through the fence, the metal sparking as it separated. Then, just as fast, Logan drew them back in. The pain dissipated as his skin closed up again. He rubbed his hands together slowly, taking the last of the edge off before looking back at Marie.
Logan couldn't ignore, however faint, the smell of fear.
"We could've climbed over," she pointed out. Her eyes dropped to his hands briefly before snapping back up to his face.
"C'mon, it'll be dark soon," he said as he started to pull the torn metal back.
It was the place he'd dreamt about that night. The night she laid awake, unable to sleep, and sensed Logan needed her. The night she almost killed him the first time. Marie couldn't remember the physical pain of being stabbed, but she remembered his eyes--the look of shock and horror at what he'd done. She had reached out to touch his face, knowing instinctually he would save her.
"Y'okay?"
Marie blinked and realized she had stopped walking. They were just inside the compound, wandering through deserted halls. She reached up to her neck and blindly felt for the tag. Marie pressed it protectively against her chest.
"You got this here," she said, closing her fingers around it. She had tried every resource the Professor had to try and figure out what the stamped numbers meant. 458-25-243. Wolverine. It remained a mystery.
"Yeah," he said, nodding before turning away. "It's up ahead."
"The lab?" she guessed, her throat tightening. Tears stung in the corner of her eyes and she blinked them back while she still could. What happened there to Logan was just...inhuman.
But to the men who did it, so were they.
"There's not much left if that makes it any easier," Logan said, taking a few steps forward.
"Did it make it easier for you?" Marie asked, moving back to Logan's side. She looked up at his face and saw his jaw clench.
"You know what? You talk too much," he said, picking up his pace.
"And you don't talk enough," Marie countered, matching her footsteps to his as they rounded a corner. When she turned her head back, she let out a gasp and clutched Logan's arm. Disturbing images flooded her mind, one melting into the other and she shut her eyes.
Skin. Marked for surgery. Lines drawn for scapels to follow. Covering every single inch...
"What do you see?" she heard him asking. "What is it?"
Then, came the pain. Excruciating pain. And the sensation of being immersed. Over and over again. Can't breathe. Can't scream. Can't make them stop...
"You," she heard herself cry. "I see you..."
Some wore military uniforms, others--lab coats or scrubs. All of them were faceless as they worked to graft the metal onto bone. Sometimes, it would heal too soon, too fast and the cuts would have to be deeper. . .
"Rogue...look at me."
She wanted to remember some small detail he couldn't. An insignia. A name. A specific person. Anything at all that would identify who did it...
"Marie!"
Marie felt her body shake. Her eyes snapped open to look around an empty room. They were gone, long gone and there was nothing left. Nothing except the man kneeling on the floor with her, his hands on her shoulders.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Logan asked, looking down at Marie. She sat near the fire, huddled up in her green cloak, arms wrapped around knees. He dropped a couple more branches on the fire and sat down on the ground beside her.
They were still out in the wilderness and decided to just stop for a few hours before getting back on the road. He would get her to the border in the morning and she could get back to Westchester from there.
"Sorry for not rememberin' anything helpful," Marie said, her teeth chattering a little. She scooted closer until she was up against his side. She turned enough so the hood wasn't blocking her from looking up into his face. Her dark eyes reflected the fire and the shadows danced across her soft features.
"I shouldn't have taken you there," Logan muttered. He drew his knees up a bit and rested his elbows on them, one wrist clutching the other. He felt her head drop to his shoulder and its weight was somehow comforting. Or maybe she was.
"I'm glad you did," Marie said and Logan raised an eyebrow. "I needed to see it. All that's been swirlin' around my head for months. Helped me sort it all out."
"Well, now that you know, you can go back to Xavier and tell him all about it," Logan said, then felt her head lift. He turned and saw Marie glaring at him.
"I didn't come here to spy on you," she said, raising her voice slightly.
"You came to bring me back and I already told you, I'm not," Logan stated. He raised his voice as well. "And if you have any sense in that pretty little head of yours, you'd get your ass back to school where it belongs and leave me alone so I can do this."
Marie said nothing. And the longer she was silent, the uneasier it made him. He knew that stare she was giving him, knew her posture and her attitude. It was his own and further proof of how much of he was now a part of her. She wasn't going to let him walk away so easily this time.
"You were the one who told me to give them one more shot," she said after a couple minutes. "I did and it was the right thing to do. Now, it's your turn."
"You don't have any unfinished business," Logan countered, then saw Marie's lips part and tremble. Judging from the expression on her face, it wasn't from the cold. He raised the other eyebrow. "Do you?"
"M-my parents still don't know where I am," she said, stuttering somewhat. "I was gone eight months by the time I made it to Laughlin City."
"And you haven't told them," he concluded.
"I-I was going to. . ." Marie stopped and looked down at her hands before continuing. "After I put that boy in a coma, they were afraid of me. And I was afraid of hurting someone else. That's why I ran away. I promised myself I wouldn't go back until I was cured, but there is no cure for what I am." Her eyes met his again. "Whether we were born this way or it was done to us, we are what we are."
Logan knew they were just words, words Xavier had probably taught her. But it was the way she said them, with stripped down honestly, that got to him. She was at a crossroad, same as he was. They couldn't go back to who they were, but weren't quite ready for who they would become. He drew in his breath and reached over to take one of her hands out of her lap to tug at the glove.
"You might need to show them your new trick," he said as the glove started to pull away. He wondered if that little demonstration in the bar was really all she was capable of now.
"Show who?" she asked, drawing her hand back. She readjusted the glove.
"Your parents. You finish your business and I'll think about coming back," Logan said. Her indignant look secretly amused him. "Take it or leave it."
"My parents live in Mississippi," she informed him with just the hint of a smile. "Are you gonna take me there?"
Logan groaned. They were a long fucking way from Mississippi.
Meridian, Mississippi
"Nice house," Logan said as the bike jerked to a stop. Marie didn't move. She just held on as she stared up at the dark house.
"They're asleep," she said, as if it was any excuse after traveling two straight days and down the entire country not to wake them.
"I'll wait here," Logan said, his hand moving up to hers to make her let go.
"Come with me," Marie implored.
"What's the matter? Afraid I'll take off?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.
"You wouldn't do that," Marie answered confidently. He could have left her any number of times over the last 48 hours, but he hadn't. Her eyes moved from his back to the house. Her insides began to flutter nervously as she slid off the bike and waited for Logan. She swallowed hard the lump in her throat and began to walk towards it. After a few steps, she felt a hand on the small of her back supporting her. Once they reached the porch, Logan removed it and stepped off to the far end away from the door.
"Go on, kid," he said as he dug out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, then leaned back against the railing. He offered her a small grin and that was all she needed to raise her fist to the door and knock. Repeatedly.
The porch light snapping on startled her, but not as much as the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. Her father's footsteps, followed by a softer pair. She saw the curtain being pushed back and their faces briefly before the locks were turned.
"Oh God," her mother cried, covering her mouth. Tears welled up fast and her hands were shaking as she lowered them. "Marie?"
"It's me," she said, unable to hold back her own tears. Her mother reached out to her and there was nothing more Marie wanted to do than to fall right into her arms. She moved forward, but was blocked when her father stepped in.
"Where the hell have you been?" he said, tightening the belt of his robe. "Do you have any idea what you've put us through? We didn't know if you were alive or dead or..."
He sniffed the air, detected the smoke and looked over at Logan.
"Who are you?" he demanded, then turned back to Marie. "Did you run away with this man? Christ, Marie..."
"No, I didn't," she reassured him. "Logan is a..."
She couldn't find a word to describe what he was to her.
"Are *you* all right?" her mother interjected, moving past her father. She laid her hands on Marie's shoulders and looked her up and down before settling on the white streaks. "What have you done to your hair?"
"I'm okay," she said, answering the easier of the two questions.
"Then where have you been?" her father repeated, his eyes moving back to Logan. Logan shifted from one foot to the other and Marie could see he was restraining himself from getting involved.
"At a school for gifted students," Marie stated, even though that only accounted for the last couple months. "For people like me."
"I don't understand," her mother said, letting her hands fall away. She folded her arms around herself and looked at Marie's father.
"Mutants," he provided, although the way he said the word was almost bitter. "That's not what you are. You just have a...condition. If you hadn't run off, we would have gotten you the medical attention you need."
"I don't have a condition..." she began.
"And it certainly isn't a gift," he continued. "You almost killed that boy.. "
"It wasn't my fault...I didn't know...I'm...better now," Marie stammered, blinking back frustrated tears. So much had changed since then. She'd changed--evolved. There wasn't any other way to convince them except to show them she wasn't a danger anymore.
Marie glanced over at Logan, then started to peel a glove away.
He was glad she couldn't smell their fear.
Logan shifted so he could see what she was doing. He watched as she pulled off both gloves and shoved them in her pocket. Her movements were slow and measured, but they still made her parents take a step back.
"I'm better now," she repeated, extending one shaky hand out towards her mother's face. Her fingers almost reached it, but her arm was quickly pushed away. That was all it took for Logan to be across the porch and at her side.
"Let her show you," he said, catching her father's wrist and holding it. He fixed him with a challenging stare, but the man yanked away from Logan's grasp.
"Show us what? What she's capable of? We know all too well," he said, pulling Marie's mother closer to him. He looked past Logan and back to Marie. "I don't know what lies this person has told you, but you don't need to be hearing any more of them. Just get in the house..."
"No one has been lyin' to me," Marie maintained, stepping forward. A tear slipped down her cheek as she curled both hands against her chest. "This is what I am..."
"My daughter is not a...a..." He couldn't bring himself to say it. The man sighed deeply, then set his jaw. "I'm not going to accept that, Marie. You were normal, perfectly normal and I know with the right help, you can be again."
"No," she said, setting her jaw as well. "I can't."
A hard silence fell between them, both unwilling to yield. Marie stepped around Logan and started down the stairs, each footstep faster than the one before.
"Marie!" her mother called out desperately. Her father held her back.
"Let her go," he said as his wife fell back into his arms. Logan saw her body shake as she started to cry. Her father looked at Logan once again, with the same disapproval as before. Logan clenched a fist and glared back as he leaned in.
"I'll take care of her," he half-whispered, half-hissed.
It was the same promise he'd made to Marie. A promise he was going to keep this time.
Marie had reached the bike already when he caught up with her. She stood there, head lowered, her long hair shielding her face from him.
"Didn't really expect them to understand," she said, drawing a deep breath in. She started to put her gloves back on. "And now I know for sure."
"Know what for sure?" Logan asked, stepping around to the other side of the bike so he was facing her. Marie lifted her head, her eyes still watery, but determined.
"Where I belong," she answered, her eyes never leaving his. She wasn't just talking about the school or the Professor or the so-called X-men. There was a part of him that liked it, and that part was scaring the hell out of him.
Behind them, the door shut and the porch light snapped off. They were left standing in the middle of a dark street once again.
"We'd better go," Logan said.
Marie looked wistfully back at the house one more time before climbing on the bike.
Wheelerville, Pennsylvania
"Logan, wake up."
Marie sat on the edge of her bed as Logan writhed in his sleep. They had stopped at a small, run down motel just outside the New York border after deciding to reach Westchester in the morning. She wasn't sure if it was his subconscious or her own that woke her. They were almost one and the same.
"Logan," she tried again, louder. She was careful to keep her distance this time. "Logan!"
His body jerked as his eyes flew open. Thankfully, his claws stayed in.
"S'thing wrong?" he slurred, his voice rough with sleep. He was sweating and his breathing was jagged. Logan shifted so he was propped up on his elbows and looked her up and down. Marie had on the same clothes from earlier, minus her gloves and shoes.
"You were dreamin' again," she answered, trying hard not to stare at his chest. He was wearing just his jeans and a damp towel was hanging off the side of the bed. He must have taken a shower after she fell asleep. She felt her face flushing over and her body growing warm.
"Did you. . ." Logan pointed to his head and made a low, whistling sound. "Up here?"
"Not sure," Marie said, shaking her head. Now that is was safe, she traversed the small distance between her bed and his. She sat down in the space beside him, hands tucked between her knees. "What were you dreamin' about?"
"You tell me," Logan said, a lazy smile spreading on his lips. His hair was tousled on top, still wet on the ends and for once, he didn't smell like cigarettes. He laid back again, one arm behind his head, and waited.
She could tell him what images woke her, but decided not to. She settled on one stray memory remnant that had nothing to do what happened at the compound.
"A blonde in Toronto," Marie finally answered, giving him a knowing look. Logan raised an eyebrow.
"What do you know about the blonde in Toronto?" he asked suspiciously. Marie opened her mouth, but he motioned for her to stop. "Wait. Don't answer that."
"You shouldn't have unprotected sex," she said, feeling her heart speed up. The tone in the room shifted and Logan drew himself up to a sitting position so they were facing one another. Suddenly, the air seemed hard to breathe.
"There's a lot of things I shouldn't do," Logan said, his eyes locking onto hers. It set her a little on edge, as if she was waiting for something to happen. Or wanting something to.
"But you do them anyway," Marie countered, slowly sliding one hand up. She lifted it into the small space between them, fingers shaking slightly. She lowered her gaze, swallowed hard and willed them steady.
She'd only have a minute, maybe two at best. Assuming he'd let her. . .
Her hand hovered as she decided where to touch him.
That thought alone, coupled with her scent, aroused more than just his curiosity. He knew the risks of letting her continue and they had nothing to do with her power. Logan had avoided getting attached to anyone or anything in the last fifteen years and now wasn't the time to start. In fact, the very last thing he needed was this.
Marie's fingertips brushed lightly down his chest.
Fuck.
But he did need her.
Her eyes closed and her lips parted slightly as her hand skimmed lower, across his stomach, then back up. There was a low, almost electrical, charge to it. He'd felt it when she touched his face in the bar. The difference was, this wasn't some brief touch just to prove a point. This was something she'd obviously thought out. And wanted.
Marie's face tensed as she moved her hand to his lips. He kept very still, not wanting to break her concentration. He wasn't sure how much in control she really was and wasn't about to take his chances. He could hear her heart pounding and sense the rush this was giving her. The low charge grew into a prickling heat as she pressed her fingers against his mouth for just a second before suddenly letting them drop.
"What is it?"
"I...I didn't want," Marie began, opening her mouth wider to take in more air. "I didn't want to hurt you."
Logan reached forward and took hold of her elbow, her sleeve covering it enough to be safe. He used it to turn Marie towards him more, to make her look at him. She finally did with dark, heavy eyes.
"You didn't," he said, relaxing his grip. "I'm not in a coma. Yet."
"Are you scared you will be?"
"Yeah," Logan admitted, pulling her in closer. It made her breath hitch up in her chest and a slight smile curve her mouth. Tempting. Daring. If she had been anyone else, he'd have had her on her back already. But this was Marie. She wasn't a kid anymore, but she was still untouchable.
He found himself wondering for how long.
"I'm tired, Logan," she said, closing her eyes again. Now, she looked drained. Logan watched as the color faded from her already pale face.
"Lie down," he instructed, letting go of her arm so she could. Marie did, drawing both her legs onto the bed and scooting up until her head found the pillow. He twisted his torso to watch as she wriggled into a comfortable position on her side. She must have felt him staring because she opened her eyes and stared right back.
"The Professor says if I keep working on it, it'll get easier," she said, answering his unspoken question.
"Have you been practicing on what's his face?" Logan asked, purposely forgetting Bobby's name.
"You weren't around," Marie said, folding her arms up against her body. Her hands, she turned in so she could catch her fingers on his dog tag. Marie idly twisted it as she drifted into sleep.
He figured she wasn't going to be giving it back anytime soon.
Westchester, New York
Marie was grateful no one was waiting for them when they pulled up.
Logan circled the small courtyard once before bringing the bike to a stop. Marie slid her arms out from around Logan and sat back. Neither of them moved.
"We could just keep goin'," she suggested and Logan shook his head.
"No. This is where you're getting off," he said, glancing back at her.
"And you're not?" she asked. He hadn't said one way or the other if he was staying. "You said if I finished my business, you'd come back."
"I said, I'd think about coming back," Logan corrected, getting off the bike. Marie still sat there as he paced back and forth. He stopped and glared at her, annnoyed. "What?"
"Are you done thinkin'?"
"Rogue..."
"You're here now, you might as well stay," she pointed out. She looked down and felt an ache in her chest. "I want you to stay."
"Scott's still pissed about the bike."
Marie and Logan both turned to see Jean standing on the other end of the courtyard, arms folded across her chest. Marie immediately glanced at Logan to see his reaction. He only grinned slightly as Jean sauntered towards them.
"Scott's a dick," Logan said, with a small shrug. Jean rolled her eyes before turning them on Marie.
"Are you all right?" she asked, giving her the once over. Jean hadn't approved of her going by herself in the first place. Marie wondered how much of that had to do with Logan.
"Yeah. I'm fine," Marie answered with a little smile. "Logan promised he'd take care of me."
"Did he?" Jean said, too thoughtfully as she looked him over next. Marie could sense the tension simmering. "Does that mean you're staying this time?"
Logan's eyes shifted from Jean to Marie. "For now."
"Rogue!"
"Bobby," she whispered as he came bounding down the stairs. She hadn't told him she was leaving or why. He paused when he saw Logan standing there, moved cautiously around him until he was at her side.
"I was so worried," Bobby said, laying his hand on her shoulder. "You just disappeared..."
"She's here now," Jean cut in, maneuvering around the bike and back towards the mansion. She gestured towards the bike and then at Logan. "You can put that back where you found it."
"I'll leave it here," Logan muttered, loud enough for Jean to hear. She smiled to herself.
"I'll tell the Professor you're both back," she said before disappearing inside. Marie knew she probably already had telepathically, but was leaving them alone purposely. She looked at Bobby. Well, almost alone.
"I'll catch up with you later, 'kay?" she said, stepping aside. She would have to explain it to him, but not now. Bobby hesitated and looked from Marie to Logan once more.
"Okay," Bobby replied, backing up slowly, then turning on his heel to follow Jean. Marie was so busy watching him, she didn't notice Logan had moved until he spoke practically into her ear.
"You shouldn't lead a guy on."
"You're not being lead," she answered as steadily as she could with Logan standing so close. Marie turned just in time to catch his bemused expression before he dropped down to unpack the bike.
At least for now, neither one of them would be running.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Special thanks to the fab Victoria P. for words of encouragement. This is movieverse and I apologize if there is anything in here that is contrary to the comicverse. I'm just going off the movie. Thanks.