Marie pulled the old, black Chevy into the parking lot and cut the engine. Looking out the windows, she saw only a handful of pickup trucks and big rigs half covered in snow - not an ideal place to stop, but the blizzard was really picking up and she needed a drink.. Though she had the heating on full and wore her green winter coat, she was freezing. *Maybe Ill get lucky and they‘ll have coffee.* Marie thought as she swiftly locked her car and sprinted across the parking lot.
Once inside, Marie pushed her hood back, taking in the warmth as well as the sights and sounds. Making her way deeper into the bar, she noticed the cage in the centre and understood at once what all the cheering was about - it was that kind of bar, one of those spit ‘n’ sawdust places where drunks beat each other up for money. Then she realised it was also the bar - the place she first saw Logan.
Logan; man of her dreams, love of her life, dashing, handsome, heroical Logan. The man who had left their home only days before she had returned. She had thought about their reunion on the way home, imagining him waiting with open arms, smiling at her as he said “Welcome back, darling.” He always called her darling in her fantasies. Or Marie. But reality he only called her kid or Rogue. She secretly hated it when he called her that - Rogue was reserved for the ones who didn’t really know her, the ones she didn’t let in. Rogue was what her boyfriend called her when he thought about Kitty. He almost said the wrong name once when they were fooling around, then tried to cover it with a cough and said he had to go.
“Hey there, sweetheart.” Marie was brought back to the present when some drunk redneck spanked her ass as she walked past his table. “How‘s about you sit that pretty lil‘ ass down, hmm?” he slurred and patted his thigh. Caught off guard and somewhere between *I‘m going to punch this guy out* and *I‘m going to get raped and killed here* Marie was rather shocked when a third option suddenly, and thankfully, presented itself - Logan.
“You want to keep your hands, bub?” he asked - a rhetorical question, one would assume, but one should never assume when it came to Logan. “Keep them off my girl.”
*Yeah, exact - wait what?*
The redneck held up his hands in surrender, insisting “Hey, man, I didn‘t know she was yours!”
“Well, now you do.” Logan stated, conversation over, and wrapped a thick, muscled arm around Marie’s waist as the redneck and his two friends made to leave.
*God,* Marie thought as Logan held her tightly against him *I can feel how hot he is through three layers of clothes!*
“Come on.” he whispered in her ear, and she shivered against his hard body. It only took a couple of seconds to get to the bar, everyone parting like the Red Sea for The Wolverine and his mystery woman. He sat her down on a recently vacated bar stool and ordered a bottle of Jack Daniels as she removed her coat and gloves. The din returned to normal once the bartender placed a full bottle of whiskey and two glasses before Logan.
“You want to be careful, honey.” he told her, handing Logan a wad of cash. “Angel like you alone in a shithole like this? Doesn‘t bare thinking about.” He leaned in close, cocking his head in Logan’s direction as the other man unscrewed the bottle cap and began pouring. “This one gets out of line, you let me know.” he told her in a stage whisper. “I just got a new shotgun I want to try out.” With that, the old man disappeared along the bar to tend to another customer, but didn’t miss Logan’s reply.
“Yeah, because that worked out so well last time, didn‘t it?” Three fingers of Jack in each glass, Logan capped the bottle and moved a glass toward Marie, brushing her bare fingers as he did. A long moment passed before he spoke again. “What are you doing her, kid?” he asked, more gruffly than he intended. He watched her thoughtfully as she fidgeted before answering.
“I didn‘t do it.” was all she could think to say. Logan’s brow creased and he eyed her curiously. “The cure. I thought about what you said and…I couldn‘t do it.”
“So, where were you all this time?” he asked, swallowing his drink at once and pouring himself another. She smiled at the tone in his voice - not angry like Bobby, or distrustful like Kitty - he was just asking.
“I went to see my parents.” she answered, somewhat sadly, and sipped her whiskey. She didn’t have to go on, after everything she had told him about her family, he could guess what had happened.
Anyway, what he was really interested in was the fact that he could touch her. The Wolverine was chomping at the bit to get free, already filling Logan’s head with thoughts and images - Marie on her knees before him, *I bet she tastes like honey* writhing beneath him, *I wonder how she‘ll sound screaming my name* her hands fisted in his hair.
“So,” she said suddenly, only now noticing Logan was sweaty and shirtless, obviously having just stepped out of the cage. “Your girl?”
“Well, nobody‘s going to lay a hand on you if they think you‘re mine.” he stated matter-of-factly.
*Dead God, Marie, stop staring at his magnificent, shimmering, perfectly hairy chest!*
“What‘s the matter, darling?” he asked, downing his drink and pouring another. “You don‘t like the idea?”
*What idea are we talking about here, the one where I belong to him? The one where we pretend? Was that disappointment in his voice? Did he just call me darling?* “I don‘t exactly hate the idea.” She told him truthfully and threw back her own drink, smiling sweetly at Logan when he refilled it for her. “Logan there‘s something I need to tell you, but I‘m not sure how.”
“Just say it, Marie.” a concerned look spreading across his face as he spoke. She thought for a moment, sighed, then stood and closed the space between them. Logan only stood there as Marie - his Marie, woman of his dreams, the other half of himself - pressed her slight body to his own larger, muscled one, her arms winding themselves around his neck. Before he could fully comprehend the meaning of her actions, Marie pressed her soft lips against his. For three whole seconds, he did nothing, unable to believe it was real.
*Oh, God, he doesn‘t want this!* thought Marie sadly. *He doesn‘t want me!*
*Oh fuck! I‘m dreaming. That‘s it, I‘m dreaming!*Logan thought angrily. *Any second now, I‘ll wake up in bed, alone. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, I suppose.*
Wrapping his arms securely around her waist, he pulled Marie tightly against him, returning her kiss with the same intense passion he did every night while he slept. She moaned against his lips when Logan ran his right hand up her back, fisting it in her thick, auburn hair. They were oblivious to the wolf whistles and crude comments being thrown their way, focusing solely on each other. Marie whimpered as Logan nipped at her lips and forced himself not to thrust against her when he smelled her arousal.
“We have to go.” he mumbled against her lips, letting her go only long enough to grab his clothes from behind the bar and shrug his flannel shirt on. Marie did the same with her coat, then grabbed the bottle of Jack form the bar.
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