'Fuckin' cows,' he thought with more than a little aggravation as he sped around the side of the lumbering eighteen-wheeler.
The car racing toward him (no one followed speed limits on two lane country highways) on the other side of the road forced him to flip the throttle wide open and high-tail it around the massive truck. It was hauling a load of cattle - to the slaughter house, he imagined - and he'd been traveling downwind of it for far longer than could've been good for him.
Whipping the front tire to the right, he pulled in front of the semi just in time for the beat up, old Pontiac to come flying past him. If he hadn't known better, he would've thought the pack of teenagers crammed into the car were trying to play chicken with him.
The game would've ended with piles of twisted metal on both sides - he had his bike going fast enough to tear a hole through the Hoover Dam - but he would've won...a bike short and a massive headache in the red, but he would've come out on top, of course.
Breathing in deeply, he almost closed his eyes as he finally got a whiff of what would pass for fresh air. He was traveling this deep into the countryside to get away from all the stink and burn that assaulted his nose and eyes in the city.
Casting a quick glance to his left, he noticed the sun had dropped significantly over the past few miles and figured that it would be well into the night before he got back to the mansion. Rolling his shoulders stiffly, he revved the bike with a twist of his wrist and disappeared under the shadow of the thick canopy of trees lining either side of the road.
He didn't even bother cutting the engine as he road up the drive - he was too tired to walk the bike up and didn't give a rip who he woke anyway.
Well...except maybe one person.
Okay, two, if you counted the human monocle, but that was only because he wasn't interested in hearing his latest round of bitching about how they housed children there, and at their age, they needed at least ten hours of sleep per night and any disturbances in that cycle...yadda, yadda, yadda. But he was eager to get home, to climb back into his bed and snuggle up to a certain someone who he'd been missing for quite some time now.
After he slid under the still-opening garage door, he cut off the motor and kicked the prop down, but remained straddling the machine for quite some time. The only sound in the garage was the steady hum of the lights overhead and the clicking hiss and pop of the bike as it cooled down from its lengthy trip home. His back was a little sore from having ridden for so long, but as soon as he could make himself get up and move around he knew it would quickly fade.
With a grunt, he swung his leg over the back end of the bike and lifted his feet a few times to work the ache out of his knees, then popped open the seat cushion and took out the manila envelopes and small box he had stuffed inside the hidden compartment. He fingered the tiny, cardboard carton a moment, his mind racing at the thought of, not only what was inside, but the possibilities it held as well. He wondered, and not for the first time, if it was such a good idea to even tell her about it at all, what the outcome might be, but he shoved those thoughts aside, knowing he had no way of telling the future and there was no sense in debating on what might happen.
The garage door leading into the mansion was unlocked, to his surprise, and he quietly made his way into the large back hall, suddenly unwilling to wake anyone now that he was actually inside. The light from the kitchen spilled softly into the darkness at the end of the hall and he headed in that direction, ignoring the beckoning call of the stairwell as he stalked passed it. He quickly brushed over the thought that if it was a student, especially a younger one, they should be in bed with the notion that it might've been one of the adults, and they'd have been up this late for a reason.
God, he'd been around Scott for too long.
As he neared the room, a wave of freshly brewed coffee washed over his tired and frayed senses and he noticed the soft scrape of metal against...a mug. Before he rounded the corner, he knew that it was Summers in the kitchen, and that he was alone. The thought that he should just slink away quietly briefly flitted through his mind - he knew Scott would want at least a miniature debriefing on what had happened on the mission and he wasn't feeling up to it right then, but he decided against it and ducked through the doorway, fully intent on grabbing a cup of the liquid caffeine as a reward for his long-suffering.
"Ain't it past your bedtime, One Eye?" he asked in lieu of a greeting as he tossed his envelopes and box on the counter and shrugged his backpack off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
Scott looked up, if what could be told by the motion of his head, and gave Logan a tired smile. "That it is," he agreed, but made no move for the door, only took a sip of his coffee.
Reaching into the cabinet for his own mug - the one that had 'until I've had my second cup' scratched over with permanent black marker and now only read Don't mess with me - Logan tossed a questioning look over his shoulder that Cyclops must've caught, because the next words out of his mouth were, "Jean's out on a pick-up run. She took Rogue and Piotr with her."
"She took Rogue with her?" came the near-growl as Logan shut the cabinet door and set his mug down on the counter with a heavy hand. He was tired and he just wanted to go to bed, preferably not alone, but by the looks of it, that was the way it was gonna be.
"Yeah," Scott answered, reaching for the sugar bowl in the middle of the island where he was seated. "They should be back in a little while - though, you'd know that if you ever turned your cell on," he finished with a wry grin as he spooned a few more dollops into his cup.
With a sigh, Logan reached into his pocket and powered on his phone. Sure enough '3 Missed Calls' flashed angrily across the screen and he snapped the cover shut with a frustrated huff. "I was gonna surprise her," he supplied as he reached for the coffee pot to pour himself a steaming cup. "Lotta good that did."
"Well, if you wanna sit up and wait with me...they shouldn't be too much longer," Scott offered, eager for any sort of company at this hour, even if that meant suffering through however many minutes with man most known throughout the Western Hemisphere not only for his lethal prowess, but also for his complete lack of anything resembling congeniality.
Logan bit back a snort of laughter as he brought the coffee to his lips and took a long sip. "That des'prate, huh?" he joked knowingly, then reached over and sat his cup down on the island. Leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest, he glanced at the built-in clock on the microwave and shook his head. It read three fourteen.
"A little, but, I was actually interested in what you came back with," Scott feigned lightly, nodding toward the envelopes on the counter, but keeping his focus on Logan.
Logan only shrugged for an answer, but pushed himself off of the counter and took a seat across from Summers on one of the stools at the middle bar, watching intently as he pried open the packages and leafed through their contents. He knew immediately what the younger man had just spotted from the way his expression immediately changed.
"A lot more than just that comin' in through everyday," he offered, tipping his chin in the direction of the papers Scott was holding. "Wanted ta go in and bust some heads while I was there, but knew we'd need ta gather some more intel an' figure out who their suppliers and buyers are before we took out the delivery boys."
It had taken all his restraint not to go into that warehouse claws a slashin' when he'd found out they were shipping mutation suppression devices in those large, metal crates and not the farming equipment that they were labeled with.
"Good move," Scott nodded, flipping through the last of the papers before sliding them carefully back into their holders. He picked up the small box that was next to them and gave a questioning look to his teammate.
Logan just shrugged and gently swiped the box away from him. "Not for you," he supplied neutrally, leaving it at that as he tucked the container into his jacket pocket.
Scott knew from the controlled tone of his voice and the way he'd put the package out of sight and out of mind that it was for Rogue, but it was too late and he was too tired to give his friend any grief over it so he kept his mouth shut. He actually found it quite endearing that the Wolverine had taken the time to get some sort of gift for her, knowing that Rogue would probably appreciate the thought itself more than anything that was actually inside the box.
"We'll have a briefing in the morning at..." he started, pausing as he looked at the clock. It was coming up on three forty. "I'll figure that out once they get back," he finished with a tired sigh.
As if on cue, Scott felt the familiar tingle in his mind as Jean opened their psychic link.
'We're almost home,' came the soft message, as if she hadn't wanted to wake him in case he'd gone to sleep already.
'Okay - we're in the kitchen.'
'We?'
'Yeah, Logan just came in a little while ago, decided to stay up with me and wait for you guys.'
'Oh, wonderful - I'm sure Rogue'll be glad to have him back.'
'I bet he can say the same for her. Did you manage the pick-up all right?'
'It was a success. We didn't bring the boy home with us, but we were able to locate his father who had no problem taking him in. I'll have Charles monitor the situation, though, just to be on the safe side.'
'All right - I'll see you in a bit.'
'Okay, we're just turning down the drive now.'
Once he'd 'disconnected' himself from the conversation, Scott brought his focus back to the man sitting across from him to bring him up to speed on the trio's status. "That was Jean, she said they're -"
"Pullin' up the driveway - yeah, I know," Logan cut him off with a smirk as he brought the coffee mug up to his lips for the last of his drink.
Scott shook his head and flashed the older man a grin. "Not much slips by you. I should've known."
Logan was about to make a comment when his ears perked up, alerting Scott that they were probably already parking the suburban they used on nearby pick-ups. No more than a few moments later, the sound of the door leading to the garage was opened, heard easily in the silence of the night.
Glancing at the clock once more before he grabbed both mugs and set them into the sink, Scott yawned and shook his head a little, trying to dislodge the sleepiness that had settled into his mind.
"I guess we'll make it at eleven hundred hours," he amended, referring to the meeting time and Logan nodded reluctantly, not in the least bit anxious to get out of bed anywhere near that time.
The hallway was still dark when the two men entered it, but Logan could see perfectly and Scott followed along behind him. Jean whispered a greeting in the dark and drew in a quick breath as Piotr stumbled off in the blackness toward his room. The four remaining X-Men had to let out a chuckle as they listened to the lumbering Russian spout out a string of what must've been curses in his native language.
"You're home," Rogue whispered as she came over to Logan with a grin plastered on her face and her arms raised for a hug. He obliged readily and wrapped himself around her, lifting her effortlessly off the ground when he straightened back up.
Still smiling, she placed a quick peck on his cheeks above his muttonchops, pulling away before her skin had the chance to react. "I missed you," she drawled, her accent much more prominent with how tired she was.
"Missed you, too," he agreed, burying his face in her neck where the leather of her uniform still protected him from her skin.
"Welcome home, Logan," he heard Jean offer as she and Scott slipped off to bed.
For long moments they remained in the hallway, both wanting nothing more than to go to bed, but neither of them had enough energy to do anything about it. Finally, Rogue mumbled from where she had her face tucked into his shoulder, "You think the Professor'll mind if we just crashed here for the night?"
Logan laughed tiredly as he swung her lightly back and forth. "Right here? In the middle of the hallway?"
He got a nod and what might've passed for an 'mmm-hmm' in some other country and could tell that she was already fading. With a quick shift of his arms, he hefted her up higher into his grip and started off toward the stairway.
Rogue pushed herself back from him slightly as if she was going to try and get down, but he held onto her tighter and started up the steps.
"Hunh uh," he mumbled tiredly before he planted a kiss on the top of her shoulder. "I just got ya back in my arms and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you out of 'em any time soon."
Their room was cool and the lights were out when they got inside, but neither of them moved to flip the switch as they passed by it, heading toward the bed. He deposited her tenderly onto the mattress and reached for the zipper at the neck of her uniform, before she stopped him with a soft hand atop of his.
"I'm glad you're home...safe," came the quiet whisper before she squeezed his fingers gently and lay back onto the bed.
He took a moment to look at her, noticing the smoldering fire that was in her dark, yet tired eyes and couldn't stop himself from leaning down and placing a loving kiss onto her lips. Her mutation kicked in just as he was pulling away and he hoped that he'd left her with some sort of the same feeling she'd expressed just seconds before.
Her uniform came off easily and he slid it down her long legs as far as he could before he had to stop and tug her boots off. Throwing them both carelessly into the floor, he removed the rest of her continuous piece of leather and tossed it over his shoulder where it landed in a pile in front of the dresser. She was sitting up by then, ridding herself of the sweat-dampened tank top and bra she'd worn under the uniform and he was rummaging through the dresser for a shirt she could put on, as well as a set of pajamas for himself.
"I prob'ly stink ta high heavens, but I think I'd fall asleep in the tub if I went to take a bath," she offered up with a yawn as she slipped into the t-shirt he'd tossed her way.
"Well, I'm sure I don't smell too great either, so we'll both go ta bed stinkin'. How's that?"
By then, he'd stripped himself of his road-grime-covered clothes and pulled on his set of pajamas and fresh pair of socks.
Marie reached for the gloves she kept in her nightstand and slipped her hands inside as she laid back on the bed and buried herself under the blankets. "I woulda worn somethin', Logan," she said apologetically as she watched him put his own pair of gloves on.
"I know," came the quiet reply as he sat down on his side of the bed and eyed the bulge in the pocket of his jacket that was strewn halfway across the room. With a look over his shoulder, he saw that Marie had turned on her side, facing him, but her eyes were already shut. His position was awkward, but he managed to lean down and place a soft kiss on the crown on her head.
"Hopefully that won't matter for too much longer, darlin'," he whispered almost inaudibly as he stood up once more and retrieved the small box.
Checking the clock by the bed, Logan fumbled for the alarm switch and growled softly as he saw that it was set for ten forty-five. No way they'd be able to sleep that late with the debriefing starting at eleven, so he fingered the buttons until it read ten, then glanced back down at the box he'd set on the nightstand. He pried open the package as he'd done so many times already and took out the thin, metal bracelet that lay inside.
He'd threatened the successfulness of the mission in some respects by sneaking into the warehouse and lifting one of the unpackaged suppressors, but he considered it worth the risk when he found out what it could do. He'd worn it several times on his way back, purposefully injuring himself on each occasion just to see how it worked and what the effects would be.
He'd watched with morbid fascination that bordered on utter joy when he saw his wounded flesh remain sliced open, bleeding freely without regard to his healing mutation. When he took the band off, there were no lasting results as far as he could tell and getting home couldn't have happened fast enough. Of course, he didn't know if that had to do with his healing factor or if it was just the way the device worked, but he'd tell Marie all of this in the morning.
Eyeing the clock once more, he tucked the bracelet back into the stiff cardboard and set the alarm for eight...just in case she wanted to try it out right then. Finally content that everything was settled, he leaned back onto his pillows, arching his back and maneuvering his legs so he could pull the top blanket out from beneath him.
In her sleep, Marie sidled up to him and he obliged by tucking her into his shoulder and rolling slightly toward her so he could rest his head atop of hers. Her gloved hand came up from beneath the covers and settled onto his ribs, just above his stomach and he smiled at the warmth, even through the material.
Her hair bristled softly against his cheek and it reminded him of the fact that they were treading dangerous ground by being together like they were. One slip would be all it would take and strangely enough, it didn't even matter to him. Holding her closely, listening to her breath even out as she fell into a deeper sleep, he decided that even if it didn't work, or she didn't want to risk it, the lengths they had to go to in order to be with one another...they didn't seem like trouble at all when he thought about the pay-off.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
The only reason I wrote this whole thing was because of the very first thing Logan says in this fic. Just, the idea of the whole 'driving around in the county' setting came to me one day and I knew I had to use it, I just didn't know what I was going to do with it. So, after sitting on my hard drive for about two months, I came up with a plot...somewhat, and an ending...kind of and now it's finally finished. And this is unbeta'ed, because I'm impatient like that.