“Really, Logan? Steak and beer at 2 a.m.?” she teased.
He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like heaven to me. ‘Sides, I’m not the one who slept for seventeen hours straight. But I can make you pancakes if you like.”
He threw the steak in the pan and it started to sizzle, and despite herself she felt her mouth start to water.
“Actually, steak and beer is starting to sound pretty good right about now.”
She leaned back against the counter, marveling again at how at home Logan seemed in the kitchen.
“So you really can cook, huh?”
He flashed a smile. “Steak ain’t exactly cookin’, darlin’. But yeah, I don’t stand a chance in the kitchen at the mansion, so I like to cook for myself when I come out here.”
“This isn’t just some hideout? You’ve been here before?”
He shot her a quizzical glance. “This is my place. Built it a few years back...needed someplace away from the mansion. Chuck’s the only one that knows about it.”
She looked around her. She could see it now -- the reflection of his tastes. The furniture was simple and austere but harmoniously arranged, the natural textures of wood and stone and wool bringing warmth to the clean lines and sparse furnishings.
She didn’t mean to but she was still recovering her equilibrium, and her mind took a quick sideways slip into his memories.
Suddenly she was with him, part of him, as he sat back, taking a break from shingling the roof. He settled the hammer in his belt, the heavy weight of it satisfying in some odd way, and wiped away the sweat that was stinging his eyes. As he looked out over the clearing and the valley beyond, he felt a peace and satisfaction he had rarely known enter his soul...
“Marie?”
She opened her eyes with a jolt, realizing it wasn’t the first time he had said her name. His concerned face searched hers, and the words slipped from her before she could think about it.
“I was remembering...”
His expression grew guarded, his eyes watchful. She stopped, a blush rising on her cheeks. She looked down, avoiding his eyes.
“I can’t help it sometimes. I didn’t mean to pry...”
He brushed his hand across her cheek, bringing her eyes up to his again.
“Nah, darlin’, I’m sorry. I just...” The guarded expression had faded, his eyes now open and vulnerable as he seemed to search for the right words.
“There’s a lot of ugliness there. A lot of stuff I’m not proud of. An’ I guess I worry that if you see too much of it, you might think better of bein’ with someone like me.”
She couldn’t help it -- she took his face between her gloved hands, kissing him hard, pulling back before her mutation could kick in.
“That’s never gonna happen, sugar.” Her words seemed to ease something in him, the tense furrows on his brow relaxing, a smile quirking his lips.
“Sugar, huh?”
She smiled back. “Yeah. Sugar. I am from the South, after all.”
She grew serious again, feeling the pressure of what she had to say building up in her chest. “I feel the same way, Logan. Like there’s something you see in me that nobody else sees, and sooner or later you’re gonna figure out that they’re right and you’re wrong. There’s nothing special about me -- nothing that makes me worth fighting for, or worth dealing with my skin...”
“Marie...” he growled.
“No...let me finish.” She sighed. “There’s some really bad stuff inside me -- bitterness, and anger. I know...I believe...how you feel about me. I can’t deny it, having you in my head like I do. But I’m still not sure why.”
He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her. His low voice rumbled in her ear. “I guess we’re both gonna need some convincin’. But we got time for that.”
She breathed in the solid warmth of him, his reassurance soothing her turbulent emotions. She sighed, giving him a squeeze. “There’s one thing I know for sure.”
“What’s that, baby?”
She smiled again. “You like your steak rare, and you’re burning it.”
_____________________
Marie leaned back against Logan’s chest, practically purring in satisfaction. “I think it’s a miracle.”
He stretched out, propping his feet up on the coffee table, gathering her even closer. “What’s that, darlin’?”
“I think this is the first time since we met that we’ve both been clean, fed, and rested at the same time.”
His rumbling laugh tickled her ear. “Well, get used to it. I plan to make a habit of it.”
She rubbed her face against the warm flannel of his shirt. “So...what do we do from here? Magneto is still out there. If your friends got Forge away somewhere safe his machine may never get finished, but if it ever does he’s gonna come looking for me to power it. I can’t bring that kind of trouble to you...to the mansion.”
She felt the tension in his muscles, a low growl building in his chest. “If I need to, I’ll sneak in and kill that bastard in his sleep. You don’t have to worry about him, Marie. He’s not gettin’ near you again. He’s on my list, right after I take care of Sabretooth.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought to tell him yet.
“Marie? What’s wrong? If that bastard laid a hand on you...”
“No, it’s not that.” She turned to look at him, her pulse pounding as she struggled to find the words. “He said something to me. Something about you.”
“Whatever that sonuvabitch said...”
“You don’t understand, Logan. He called himself...he said he was your brother.”
An unnatural stillness fell over him. When he finally spoke his voice was emotionless. “My brother?”
She nodded. “He seemed to think that you would remember him. He was talking...bragging...about the women he hurt, and he asked if you had told me those stories already...”
Pain flashed across his face.
“Logan...don’t do that. I know you’re not like that. You’re not like him.”
He heaved in a deep breath, running a shaky hand through his hair. “A brother? That bastard...?”
“I don’t think he was making it up, Logan. I think Magneto knew. That’s why he was so interested in meeting you -- why all he cared about was whether you knew Sabretooth. He wanted to be sure whose side you would really be on if it came down to it.”
“Jimmy.” His eyes were haunted, unseeing. “He called me Jimmy.”
He pushed to his feet, pacing restlessly, the claws springing free with a metallic hiss.
She twisted her gloved hands together, wishing there were something she could say to make this better.
“What else did he say?” he snarled.
She hesitated.
He turned to look at her, his cold predatory gaze turning her blood to ice in her veins.
In an instant he changed, the aggression fading from his stance, his claws snicking in silently. He moved toward her, falling to his knees in front of her, reaching out to pull her up against his chest.
“Christ, Marie...I’m sorry.” He kissed the top of her head, running his hands down her back, soothing her. “Don’t look like that, darlin’.”
She took in a deep breath. “I want to tell you, Logan. I’m just...I don’t want to hurt you more.”
He sat beside her on the couch, nestling her into the curve of his body. “It’s okay, baby. Take your time. But I need to know.”
She nodded, gathering her thoughts. “He used to come by my cell. Taunting me. But the last time, right before they brought you to the cell next to me. It was different. More...personal. I thought that time...I thought that was the end, that they had given me to him.”
He growled, deep and low, his hand reflexively tightening on her waist before he caught himself, consciously relaxing it.
“He stayed outside the bars,” she rushed to assure him. “But he was talking about the woman he had hurt, and then called you his ‘runt of a brother’ and asked if you had already told me those stories. He said he saw me pull you out of the water, and that even after all those weeks I still smelled like you, so I must have sucked you into me good.” She shrugged. “And then just a lot of threats about what he was gonna do to me, how he was gonna put his mark on me...”
She froze suddenly as he dipped his head into her neck, his breath puffing hot against her bare skin.
“Be careful, Logan...” she breathed.
He took a deep inhale of her scent before his eyes came up to meet hers, puzzled. “He was right about that. I thought it was just from where I had touched you, but...”
He pulled her hand gently toward him, rucking up her sleeve to expose her bare wrist above the glove, inhaling her scent once again where her pulse beat steadily under her skin. “It’s more than that. It’s like your scent has changed, just a little. Deepened a little. Like it’s...”
He suddenly lifted his head.
“Logan?”
The rest seemed to happen in a blur. Logan sprang to his feet, claws out, as a dark shape burst through the door.
She screamed as the shape barrelled into Logan. They went down together, smashing the coffee table.
“Logan!” She scrambled over the back of the couch.
Sabretooth lifted his shaggy head, canine teeth gleaming. “Miss me, Frail?”
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