He didn't know why he'd come back here. It only reminded him of her, how she was when they first met. All big dark eyes, a fragility to her and something to her scent that had made him want to protect her cracked innocence. Bringing her with him, as if he was safer than leaving her to hitch with truckers to Alaska, and getting them both nearly killed. He'd have given his soul to save her life, and lately he'd been wondering if she'd stolen it for good.
Same old place, same roughneck patrons, shitty lighting, half assed fighting cage, and a busted up bar. Why had he come back here, to pour salt in the wounds he was trying to let heal? Had he come to the point where pain was the only thing he had left to tell him he was still living? He'd bought his way into owning half the place, the leathery old man who'd once waved a shotgun not no longer hating him, but leaning on him. The old coot still tended bar, but left the heavy stuff to him. Bouncing, rotating stock, helping clean up at the end of the night. Little by little the place was shaping up some, actual bar stools, a real bar that he was varnishing in the back rooms he had. Cleaning it up, not that he expected the clientele really noticed or appreciated it. He didn't expect it to change anything, he just wanted the place to have some sort of substance and seem less ramshackle. It gave him something to do in the quiet hours, when he tried to stop himself from pacing the floors, wishing he dared sleep. Memories of the lab, nightmares, would be preferable to the dreams.. dreams of Rogue, that wide, slightly crooked grin, the way light put gold flecks in those dark irises, the sweet scent of her skin, the way her face flushed when he'd... Teeth ground, one hand fisting and pounding into the palm of its twin. Working kept one night bleeding into the next, kept him hoping that he'd get past this, find something, find another path.
Rotating stock, heavy, boring, endless work, letting him keep his mind and senses alert for trouble in the bar. He nearly dropped an entire case of Molson, hearing words spoken in a honeyed southern tone. It wrenched something inside of him, even as he knew it wasn't the same Mississippi drawl a traitorous part of him wanted to hear. But still, he moved towards the sounds, knowing a female in distress when he heard it, even as polite as she might be speaking.
" No, really... Ah mean it! Stop grabbin' me!"
Short, southern, redheaded.. and a bit more covered up then the weather really called for. He dared a glance skyward, wondering if there was a god, and if the powers that be REALLY found him that fun to toy with. Just his presence, the growling sound in his throat, fists clenched, one brow arched upwards had the two hassling her backing off, as they suddenly remembered they had beer to finish. Brilliant blue eyes looked up at him, and something eased in his chest. Blue, not like Jean's, nothing like Marie's, bright in the flushed face that gave him a look that thanked him without a sound. What was it about southern girls, that made them be totally unafraid of him, damnit? He radiated danger,rough sex and violence, for god's sake! He was the Wolverine! But she didn't even take a half a step back, murmuring thank you, and continuing for the bar.
Reaching to catch her elbow, only to have her deftly dodge his touch as if he hadn't reached far enough. Brow notched upwards again, even as he watched her take a seat. What was it with him, this bar, and little southern belles on the run. Did they all rush for Canada or something? Was it a new tourist fad and no one told him? He leaned against the bar, almost choking on her scent. She used the same lotion Marie had, faint vanilla rising from pale hands as she slipped gloves off, with that scent of adrenaline,.. and innocent. This girl, woman if he was honest with himself, was innocent. She'd seen some of the world, all right, but.. she was physically as pure as the snow that hadn't hit the ground yet, he'd bet a year's worth of profits.
" What'll it be?" Words came out more harshly than he intended, making his jaw tighten as she looked up at him from under lashes, as cool as you please.
" Ah'll be buyin' mahself a shot of jack and directions ta the nearest payphone, thanks." He couldn't help the jerk of a smile at his mouth, as he rounded the bar. " Sorry, I wasn't trying to make it seem like... " A hand gesturing to the two idiots who'd been hassling her and were still busy trying to avoid Logan's gaze.
"Whatcha need a payphone for? Gonna call home?" Jesus, he wanted to bite off his tongue, even as he was pouring her a shot of the requested whiskey, setting it in front of her. " Just you sound a long way from home, darlin'. " She flushed, fidgeted with the gloves she laid on the bar.
" Ah am. From L'siana. But Ah'm no runaway, hon. Just on a trip up t' Alaska, see some things, before Ah go back ta school and back ta gettin' a job ta put me through graduate school. " A slow smile, fingers around that shot, before she tipped it back, seeming to savor the sharp edged liquor. "Need the phone because Ah got a flat about fifteen miles out. Not so big a deal, but the donut wasn't gonna make it, either. Hitched a ride in, mah cell doesn't work for crap. Need a tow truck, or triple A or somethin'. " A shrug, fingers dipping into her jeans pocket carefully, two fingers bringing out a fold of bills. "Another shot, please, if ya don't mind." Blue eyes glanced up at him, as he poured another, already mentally cursing himself.
" Make ya a deal. No body is gonna go out for your car tonight. Stay here for the night, come mornin' I'll take you to buy a tire, and we'll go out and get it fixed. No strings or nothin'. Just.. well we've already seen that it's not exactly safe for ya out on your own about now. " She watched him, and he frowned slightly as her eyes seemed to go slightly blank. Chuck could get a look like that when he was straining his brain without Cerebro, but he wasn't feeling any sort of telepathic knocking about in his head.
" All right, so long as ya don't mind, Ah won't. " Simple as that, which only made that frown deepen. She hadn't asked questions, or looked at his hands for a wedding band, or even hesitated. How did a girl who trusted a stranger, much less one like him, make it this far with that innocence intact? " If ya need a hand or any.." Trailing off, as the fights started up in the cage for the night. Logan watched as her eyes strayed, trying to ignore that call to him. He didn't fight in the cages anymore, unless someone specifically challenged him... well hell, then it was just for the good money it would bring. She just watched as they started, not saying a word, her expression as motionless as if she was in the countryside somewhere, looking over an empty field. Then those eyes swung back to him, and he felt almost pinned by them. Nothing like what he'd felt whenever Marie turned those big, dark eyes on him. This one.. it was like she could see into him, through him, and just rolled with it. " Another shot, if ya please, hon. Gonna do one with me? Ah do hate ta do shots alone." Tipping the one she had back, the solid little thud of glass against wood as she gave him a smile. A hint of flirtation, but nothing even close to a come on to it. She was teasing him like a long time friend, not a woman looking for a man, and it was oddly comforting. He had his fair share of women trying to crawl all over him at night, having heard about the Wolverine, and he was used to advances of all shades of flirtation and aggression. None of it, here. She was letting him know he was an attractive guy, without indicating any personal sort of interest in more than a conversation. He couldn't help the grin that crept across his mouth.
" Sure. You know how to handle yer whiskey, or ya gonna sick it back up later?" She gave a snort of derision.
" Ah can handle it better than most guys twice mah size, honey. Just pour 'em, will ya?" That smile edged into a sassy grin, and he felt that stab in his heart again. He saw those blue eyes blink at him, that grin faltering and fading.That only made his eyes widen, as he nudged her shotglass.
" Whatcha wanna drink to, kid?" growled out, eyes lowering to look at the bar.She lifted her glass, pretending to think it over. " Here's to the ones we love, the ones who love us. But the ones we love, aren't the ones who love us, so screw them, here's ta us." Again that prod of teasing, making the corner of his mouth stir upwards in an almost smile.
" Sure, kid." Shots tossed back, glance exchanged in that bond of shot drinkers.
"Name's Alessia, if ya please. Al, if ya prefer. " Fiddling with her gloves again, stowing them into a pocket.
" Logan." Sweeping those shotglasses away, a sharp glance to her. "Just shout ya need anything. " She nodded, eyes turned back towards the cage.
He got back to his work at hand, stocking, rotating stock, serving up beers, tossing out those too drunk to stay without causing a fight, tossing out those that drunk or not were trying to cause a fight, always with half an ear cocked for the seat at the end of the bar, just in case. She'd gotten herself a beer, sipping at it slowly, giving him the impression she wasn't big on the stuff, sitting quiet, just watching everything going on around her with an impassiveness that almost made his skin crawl. She was quiet, too much so. Polite rebuttals and a hint of looming Logan had chased off would be liquored up Lotharios, getting him that thankful look a few more times. He watched, seeing her avoid their hands out to touch her shoulder, her arm, to gain her attention. She didn't like to be touched, didn't want to be. Something in him heaved a sigh, almost positive in his conclusion now. As the crowd thinned, he slid up behind her, just tugging a long strand of red hair.
" Hey, Al, c'mon. " Bag slung over her shoulder, as she followed him through the tables, down the back hallway, to his rooms in the back. " The Hilton it ain't but ya can rest and not worry about every Jack, Jim, and Joe, hittin' on ya. I'll be back once we close. " He could tell she fell in behind him, like a duckling in the wake of a larger bird. He should have expected it, but he didn't.
"Why ya helpin' me out?" Quiet, as she stood in the doorway to his meager rooms. He set her bag down in the overstuffed, slightly beat up arm chair.
" Why are you lettin' me, trusting a stranger you don't know?How ya know I'm not some creep?" Purposely crowding her, getting in close to make her look up at him.She was shorter than Marie, smaller boned, but she had that same way of not yielding an inch, even as he heard her breath catch in her throat.
"Easy. The way ya looked when ya said no strings or anythin'.. " A shift of her head, shaking red back, almost defiant. " Ya know what Ah am, almost as certain as Ah'd bet money Ah've figured out the same thing about ya. Ah don't know if that was the reason, or ya like ta be the type ta rescue a damsel in distress, though Ah imagine ya don't see yourself as the shinin' armor type. "
She had him there, and his shoulders lowered a bit, reaching to shut the door behind her. " I've figured there's somethin' that makes you want to not be touched, and I don't think it's some quirk of your personality" Moving over the the table, a cigar snatched up and lit with a match, listening to her footsteps along the floor behind him, as she set down on the beat up couch.
" You're right. So ya know what Ah am then, just not the flavor, if ya will. Truth is, ya touch me, Ah know things about ya. Skin on skin, and Ah get whacked upside mah head with emotions, and depending on the person, sometimes thoughts, even. Empathy, is what it's called. Ah see emotions around people. Like when somethin' Ah say makes ya hurt, Ah see it. " Was that a specific reference? Hazel eyes swept over the small, neat figure on his couch.
" So, sorta like a telepath, but with emotions more than thoughts, you're tellin' me. " Jesus, the powers that be did like to screw with him.
"Pretty much. So, ya gonna tell me, now?"
Well, now it was show and tell time. He'd see just how brave little red was. Fingers on his left hand tightened, popping those lengths of adamantium even as he puffed the cigar in his right. Pupils flared in her eyes, a hint of a jump, but she didn't freak out, or look too scared. Probably could read that he was afraid of scaring her. But what he didn't expect was what she blurted out.
" Jesus, doesn't that hurt?" He could see, even smell that embarrassed rush of hot blood to her face, " Sorry, Ah didn't have ... that wasn't mah place ta say. Ah just.. whoa." She was trying to apologize, and falling over her own words.
"It's all right, Al. " Claws slid away, and he watched her eyes take note of it. Yeah, this one was something else. " I'm going to go out there and finish up. Make yourself at home. "
She just arched her brows at him, before she was sliding out of her boots, heeled boots he noted with a shake of his head. Then again, she was pretty short, so it made sense to her, he was sure. So long as she didn't bust her neck or anything else. Her bag pulled into her lap from where it had been plopped, a black plastic case. A laptop, it looked like, making Logan smile as he shut the door behind him, though he wasn't sure why.
Bar closed, the beer coolers full, the last drunks ushered out to sleep it off wherever they could. Floor quick swept, wet mopped, thinking idly how Scooter would have been shocked to see Logan even knew how to use a mop. A smile as he dumped out dirty water, checking the locks and the lights before he went back down the hall. Door opened, and eyes fell on something that made his mind flash back. Red was curled up on that couch, her jacket pulled over her. That laptop on the floor, little speakers playing quiet music.. southern rock from the sound of it. Well at least it wasn't that whining pop crap. he hated most of that. This, he could live with, he decided. Dragging off his boots, stripping out of his shirts and exchaning jeans for sweats, an ear kept open to make sure she wasn't waking up and catch him changing.
Blanket lifted off his bed, spread over the curled up form on the couch. Just watching her a minute, wondering why it was he'd even spared her a second glance. She didn't stir the animal in him like the Phoenix in Jean did. She didn't make the man in him want her either, didn't tug at his insides like Marie did. He shook his head, unsure and trying to clear his mind of the cluttering thoughts.
"Either way, tomorrow I'm calling Chuck about you." Muttered under his breath, before he he walked back to his bed, crawling under the covers. Just to rest, as he had no intention of truly sleeping, waking her with his nightmares and putting them both at that sort of risk. " And tomorrow, I tell you all about Chuck and send you on your way. " mumbled into his pillow, intending it as a promise to himself. Better to get her away before he messed it up, and another nice, little, southern girl was twisted up because of him.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
It's really chapter 3. This string goes with " How much is too much".I don't know how long it will be between chapters. Depends on the muses and how much Wolveriness harrasses me.