His stomach wasn’t complaining too much, and mechanic actually had known what he was doing. His motorcycle was up and ready when he finished his fries and the beer. He gunned the engine, intending to drive out of Dodge before sheriff got the whiff that he was still in town. Last thing he wanted, last thing he needed was to get on the wrong side of the law permanently. Cover story and ID he had gotten from professor Xavier as a part of payment for services were good, but they weren’t that good. Anybody with little curiosity and too much time on their hands would blow his disguise to the kingdom to come.
He squinted his eyes. There was a pale blotch on the side of the road. From this distance he couldn’t tell what it was, but he could see it was moving. Could have been just some garbage thrown out of the passing car. Could be a human. Well, he would be reaching it soon enough, what ever it was.
Closer he got the surer he got it was a human. And soon he could even identify her. It was the waitress from the BurgerHeaven. The one he nearly drove over. He slowed down and stopped in front of her, sun behind his back. She looked like she had been sitting out here for a while now, covered in dust and dirt, and something… Was that all blood?
“Are you alright, kid?” He asked. Suddenly he was worried. Very worried. Girl moved a bit, and turned to look at him. Young. Tired. Angry.
“Considering you nearly ran over me and caused me to loose my job…” She muttered.
“Are you alright? You’re bleeding.” He got off from his motorcycle and crouched next to the girl, reaching for her hands. She hissed and scooted away from him.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” He huffed and tried again. Girl swatted his hands away.
“Don’t touch me. I’m a mutant. My skin kills.”
A mutant? What were the odds? Could she be the person Xavier had sent him to look for? Old geezer had told him to look out her skin. She could absorb life and power from other mutants.
“What’s your name, kid?” He asked. Girl flicked an icy glare to his direction.
“And what is it to you, Wolverine?” She spat venomously, emphasizing every syllable of his name like it was the worst insult on the face of the earth.
For a moment man looked perplexed, much as Nate had been after her outburst at the front of BurgerHeaven. Then he shook his head and slid the dog tag that had been dangling on his chest under white T-shit he wore under his jacket.
“What’s your name, kid?” He asked again. This time there was a sharper edge in his tone. Look on his face that had earlier turned from mean to concerned transformed to downright pissed within a second. Somehow she got the feeling that it would be a good idea to answer.
“Marie D’Ancanto.”
Now the man was smiling. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was definitely an improvement. He didn’t look like he could gut her to where she sat anymore.
“Nice to meet you, Marie D’Ancanto. I have been looking for you.” His smile turned to a wolfish, greedy grin, and this time it went all the way up to his eyes. He was evaluating her like he was starving, and she was a good, juicy and rare steak.
This was it. His ticket to that nice cabin up north Xavier had promised to him if he delivered certain little miss mutant at his doorstep before Magneto and his goons got their paws on her. Not that he had anything against the man, but somehow he felt more comfortable with Xavier and his loony bunch than with old buckethead and his crew.
She looked about ready to bolt and scream bloody rape and murder. He tried to summon less feral impression on his face. No use to scare the shit out of her. Better they got along, faster he got her to Xavier. For a second he was at loss. What to do? Then he decided to choose the way he always chose. Well, most of the times. Okay. Almost always. Oh, for fuck’s sake, he wasn’t a saint. He lied. Quite often. But somehow it felt that this was the time when telling the truth would solve the problem.
“There’s a mutant called Magneto. He’s after you. And he doesn’t want you because you can flip some mean burgers. I work for a guy who can protect you from him. Professor Xavier. He sent me to find you and take you to Westchester before Magneto finds you.” He wasn’t sure how truthful he sounded, but that was the God honest truth. Xavier had sent him to this mission. About six months ago. Sure, he had been AWOL for some time, enjoying the finer aspects of life with the half of the reward Xavier had coughed up beforehand, but better later than never, right?
First she just stared at him, wide-eyed, mouth gaping open. Then deep frown settled over her features and she stood up, brushing off accumulated dirt from her skirt, smearing even more blood on it in the process.
“Very nice. Who put you in to this? Nate? Nicole? Or was it Adele?”
“Huh?” It was his turn to stare at her quizzically.
“You can go back and tell them I went for it. For a moment I actually believed you. You can go back and tell that to them, and then you can all have a good laugh at my expense,” she sighed and started walking down the road, shoulders sagging and her gaze fixed to the ground at her feet.
It took him a while to realize that she thought he was only joking with her.
“Wait!” She didn’t stop. She didn’t even acknowledge that she had heard him, just kept walking and kicking small dust clouds high up in the air with her worn sneakers. The motorcycle nearly toppled over him when he kicked off the stand. It was a struggle, but he managed to keep it upright and started half walking half jogging after her.
“Wait! Kid! Oh, shit…”
It wasn’t working. She kept walking and muttering to herself angrily, not sparing even a glance at his direction. He hopped on the saddle and gunned the engine.
“Have it your way, then, kid…”
On top of everything they just had to have this. The last pun. Let them. She wasn’t going to care. She’d pack her bags tonight and leave this shithole of a town tomorrow morning. The first decent looking truck that came her way, she’d hitch a ride to anywhere. Hell, even next town would do for the lack of a better destination.
Heavy engine roared to life behind her. The man, Wolverine was probably getting ready to go back to Adele. Adele. That bitch. Always picking on her. Well, let him go. Let them laugh. She wasn’t going to rot in this shithole for long anymore.
Several things happened simultaneously. She kicked a pinecone hard enough to send her shoe flying after it. She nearly tripped over. Roar of the motorcycle got suddenly louder, and something, a hand, wrapped around her waist and she was hoisted up in the air with a force that blew her one remaining sneaker off as well. Wolverine. He pulled her in front of him on the saddle of his motorcycle and secured her there with one strong hand, steering the monster with other. Motorcycle swerved slightly, but straightened out soon.
She was too shocked to struggle. She was too shocked to even scream when scenery flew past her at alarming pace. She could only clutch at the arm surrounding her waist. She was sure that if he ever wanted her to let go, somebody would have to pry her fingers open with a crowbar.
“I’m not going to hurt you, kid! Just relax!” she could hear him shouting over the wind and engine.
Relax? Was he fucking insane? Or just very, very not good at kidnapping people? She was pondering whether she should give him a lesson in proper kidnapping etiquette when he started to slow down, and finally turned the motorcycle to a half empty parking lot of a run down motel, parking it in front of a door number eight.
“I’m not going to hurt you, but it’s important to keep you away from Magneto. I’m taking you to Xavier, and after that you can decide what to do. Until we get to Westchester you do as I tell you. Understood?” Harsh, but he lacked the patience. He wasn’t about to start coddling and cooing. He wasn’t going to negotiate. She was coming with him. Even if he had to restrain and gag her. He tried to remember if he had packed any rope with him. Probably not. But it wouldn’t be too hard to come by if needed.
He carried her to the door and plunked her down on the wooden platform. He needed his both hands to find the key and open the door. She just sat at his feet. He was prepared. If she tried to run he was ready to bolt after her, but it looked like it wouldn’t be necessary. She looked dazed. Speechless and unable to move. All the better for him.
“Sit.” He had helped her up and pushed her in the room. There really was nothing else to sit on but the messed up bed. Obviously her new ‘friend’ was less peaceful sleeper, and maids in this fleabag motel didn’t bother to straighten up beds. She sat down carefully. He kicked the door shut and crouched in front of her, reaching for her hands and taking a firm grip from her wrists. At some point, probably at the same time he had looked for the key of this room from his pockets he had pulled on black leather gloves.
“Shit… You scraped yourself good, kid. Bathroom’s over there. There should be at least one clean towel left. Go and wash off the blood. I’ll see if I have something for you to wear, okay?” He murmured almost gently and pushed her towards the bathroom door. To get there she had to pass the door to outside. She glanced at it quickly. He was rummaging through a knapsack at the corner, his back turned to her.
“Don’t even think about it. I’ll hunt you down and spank your pretty little ass black and blue if you try to run away from me…”
Did he have eyes on his back? Some kind of sixth sense?
“I won’t… I won’t run away…” She whispered hastily darting in to the bathroom and locking the door behind her.
“Wait, take these in there!” She heard him shouting. She opened the door slowly, suspicious of what he meant. ‘These’ appeared to be an oversized T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She took them from him and closed the door. Then pushed it open again.
“Thanks.”
Door closed again. Lock clicked. He could hear clothes rustling, then shower running. His clothes would do now. Later, when he didn’t have to be afraid of her running, they could swing by her place and pick up her stuff. But he wasn’t going to leave this room with her before she trusted him. Speaking of which, he’d better lock the door. He was going to take a shower after she was done. He reeked of booze, cigars and that cell the good sheriff had thrown him in last night. Not the most pleasant combination when you added the stench of grease and burnt meat from the BurgerHeaven on top of that. BurgerHeaven. He snorted. BurgerHell would have been more accurate.
She was taking her sweet time in that shower. He had already flipped through channels available in the old black and white TV that stood in the corner, and was thumbing through some magazine somebody had left to the room earlier. Was it possible to drown in to the shower? He wasn’t sure about it. Maybe he should go and check if she was okay. She did have quite a nasty tumble with that trash bin, and his sudden bright idea to snatch her from the side of the road could have caused some damage to her ribs.
He stood up from the bed stretching his back and groaning. Yeah. It was definitely time to head back to Xavier’s. Now there was a decent lodging for a man. Comfortable bed. Spacious rooms. Delicious food you didn’t have to guess of what it was made of, and more importantly when. Free booze, and not so free, but extremely good looking women wandering around in skintight leather. Well, not exactly wandering. More like dashing and bolting and jumping and running, all their good parts jiggling…
“Shit… Kid! You drown in there or what’s taking so long?” He shouted and gave the bathroom door few firm knocks with his knuckles. He knew how to knock. And he was going to be polite and give her a minute to get out of the shower and in to those clothes he had given her before he kicked the door open.
“Minute’s up! Ready or not, here I come!”
Door came ajar surprisingly easily. And revealed an empty shower stall, and equally empty bathroom with one small window hanging wide open.
“Shit.” He hadn’t even thought about the window. And why? Because the freaking thing was so small and narrow that it was impossible for him to imagine anybody squeezing out through that opening. Suddenly his eyes narrowed. Something pink and crimson was peeking from behind the toilet seat. He pulled it out. Her uniform. Soaked with generous amount of her blood. Practically reeking of her. And many other scents still left from the BurgerHeaven, but he was able to identify her own unique scent from the mix.
“Not so clever after all…”
He took his time in the shower. Now that he got her scent, it wouldn’t be hard to track her down. For a moment he contemplated if he should get rid of the erection he had gotten just by thinking of certain leather clad redhead from Xavier’s crew, but decided against it. It was hard to keep picturing Jeannie when that D’Ancanto chick’s scent wafted around him in the steam and cling to his skin. Every time he tried, fiery copper turned to chocolate brown and white. And he wasn’t that big of a bastard yet. He wasn’t going to start fantasizing about strange women, no matter how good looking they were.
She was half way to her home when distant echo of a thunder rumbled through the air. Weather had been hot, air humid, heavy and sticky. It looked like it was going to change soon. She let out a relieved sigh. For once something went her way. Maybe she would get rid of the annoying headache that had been pestering her for the good part of this week.
Getting out of the bathroom had been easy. It had been even easier to walk off from the motel. Granted, her apartment was on the other side of the town, good five kilometers from the motel, and she had no shoes on, but she wasn’t going to sit back and let that freak kidnap her, no matter if he wasn’t going to hurt her. And that ridiculous story he had offered as an explanation… He could have gotten all the details about her, including her name and her mutation from the people working at the BurgerHeaven. Magneto? Professor Xavier? How stupid he thought she was?
She had been hoping she could find a ride out of this town, but she wasn’t as desperate yet that she would leave sitting in the back of a motorcycle driven by an obvious lunatic. Who knew what intentions he had. And that name. Wolverine. Who the hell called himself Wolverine? His name must have been as fake as his wild story about how he was sent to rescue her from the clutches of some evil super mutant.
She huffed exasperated and pulled up pants that had crept too low for her tastes again. He was a big fucker. In an emergency situation she could use the clothes he had given her as a tent. For a moment she stood in front of the sheriff’s office. Should she go in and warn the man about some strange guy who had the weird urge to drive around and kidnap mutie babes? She decided against it. She wasn’t that fond of Earl, the sheriff. Earl wasn’t fond of muties. Sure, his occupation forced him to stay at least speaking terms with every citizen in this godforsaken shithole of a town, but every conversation with him was at best strained. She wasn’t in the mood of fake chitchatting and forced politeness. She was in the mood to getting home and in her own clothes that fit. She could stay in and plan her next move. She could pack her bags.
It didn’t occur her before she was standing behind the locked door of her apartment. Her keys. She had left them to the pocket of her uniform. Which lay on a crumpled heap in the bathroom of the motel. Well, it had been too good to be true. She leaned her forehead against the door, and yelped surprised when the door opened, and Wolverine stood at the doorstep, smug smile on his face.
“Honey, I’m home! How was your day? Mine was absolute murder. Woke up with a decent hangover. Then bumped in to this chick I have been tracking down for the past six months. Guess what she did? Took my clothes and ditched me. Can you believe that?”
“How… Why…” She managed to stutter when Wolverine pulled her inside and closed the door.
“You were kind enough to leave the keys,” he smirked, dangling her keychain in front of her, and snatching it away when she tried to grab it.
“Tut-tut… Pack your bags. We’re going for a ride.”
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