As it turned out, Chuck wasn't called the next day. Fate conspired against him, Logan was convinced. But oddly, he had yet to mind the twists of the usually cruel mistress this time.
So, after rousing southern red with some coffee, and letting her take a shower in his cramped excuse for a bathroom, he'd watched her slide her gloves and boots on, as though they were armor, changing even the angle of her chin and slant of her shoulders. She stood taller, more stiffly, like a soldier about to go to battle in a war that had dragged on too long. He found himself wondering if every day was a battle with a mutation like hers. Wondering why Chuck hadn't found her while she was a lost little girl that she had to have been when she was younger.
"How'd you learn to live with it?" Gruff words came out with a jerk of his chin, shoving his arms into his coat. He hadn't meant to ask her, especially like that, but there was no taking back words that were said. He felt like a heel, however, when those blue eyes swung his way, darkened and wounded.
"Ah'm not sure what Ah do is called livin' with it, sugar. Ah just call it gettin' by, without goin' mad." her jacket pulled on and her wrappings were complete, and she was heading out of his rough little room. Still, he watched her, chin tucked down, her stride fast and hard, as if she was planning on walking out into a blizzard. Just a sigh, before he was following her, giving himself a mental poke in the head. It wasn't exactly charming small talk.
He went with her to the local garage, speaking for her even though it burned her up some. Arranging for the tow truck to follow behind them.
She got back into his truck without a word, plucking at the fingertips of her gloves, then smoothing them back into place. She didn't need to give him much in the way of directions, as there was only one highway that ran through town. He kept shooting sidelong glances, watching her fidget in that small, quiet way.
"I didn't mean it like it sounded. " managed, before he was digging in his coat pocket for a cigar. Her head lifted, something about the gesture making him feel like he'd been there before, while blue eyes told him he hadn't. " Just.. well, it occurred to me..even just sitting here with me, you're havin' to be careful. Do you ever get to be close to anyone? " At least Marie could do that, all covered up. He could remember long before he'd let himself want more, the way she'd edge up to him on the couch, resting her cheek on his thigh. The way she melted when he'd play with her hair abesnt mindedly.
"Not really." Was the quiet reply, a toss of red hair, head turning to let her pretend to look out the window. " Let's just say Ah haven't exactly found many people Ah wanna be that close to. " A glance back his way, even as he felt his stomach twist. Well, that would explain some things.
"I'm sorry, kid. That's a shitty deal." Eased out around the unlit cigar he'd stuck in his mouth. Watching her car come into view, something about the way it sat not seeming right. Sharing a look with her, seeing the way her eyes glowed in that fair skinned face, almost as if they burned.
"Don't. Don't say you're sorry, don't give me any pity, all right? Ya've been treatin' me pretty normal so far, and Ah much prefer that ta bein' treated like some piece of glass." Yep, there was that southern sass. And to think he had thought he missed it, watching her slide out of his truck, moving towards her car. He lit that cigar, even managing to chuckle to himself.
The tire was flat, sure enough, and the way it was halfway into a ditch with the snow melting under the sun left no room to change it. So it was back in the truck with them, to follow the tow back to town. Eyes glancing at her, as she pretended again to watch out the window.She's stopped playing with her gloves, thought her body was so tense he was pretty sure her back wasn't even touching the back of her seat.
"So whatcha gonna do once your car's back in gear?" Cigar returned to his mouth, forcing his eyes on the road while he saw her turn her face his way.
" Dunno. Start south, maybe. Think about how Ah'm gonna be who Ah am, what Ah am, and who Ah'm gonna be.Ah'll probably keep tryin' ta learn ta control... " A shrug of her shoulders, eyes glancing out the window again. "What are ya gonna do, once Ah vacate your space and leave ya be again?" hint of a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth.
"Probably go back to what I was doing before you showed up." A smirk, arching an eyebrow. "Serving beer, bouncing, and pondering the meaning of life."
"Forty two." Shot back at him, only making him laugh.
"I read that book, kid." only to remember, as comfortable as Al made him, as easy as she could banter.. she wasn't 'kid'. "Sorry, Al." his voice had lowered, a gruffer tone.
"No big deal, Logan." letting that change in his emotions and mood go unremarked on. He knew she knew, but it was just one of those things.. Probably why after less than 24 hours, she already put him at ease. Jerk as the truck stopped at the tow shop.
"Wanna get something to eat while they tinker with it?" Asked as she moved to slide out of the truck, catch of a blue gaze.
"Sure. Not like Ah've got much else to do." A smile with her words, but that sass was there and evident. It made him grin, even as the old ache settled in his chest.
But she didn't stop to look this time, instead he saw gloved fingers hooking into back pockets, a gesture that was so familiar a lifetime ago, on someone else entirely. Dragging his eyes up helped some. Jean's hair had never curled like that, or been that vivid a red.Of course, Jean had never been that short, either.
That thought made him smirk again, before he heard southern tones raised. So he closed in, walking up behind her.
"The fuel pump? But there was nothing wrong with it when the tire went flat! Now you're tellin' me the fuel pump is damaged or whatever and Ah'm gonna be here for days, while ya order it and ...." He could all but feel the anger and frustration rising up off of her. Stepping around along side, seeing her face flushed. " Ah just don't see."
He stepped forward just a little bit. " Yeah, bub, what do you mean, the pump's shot..." Fingers dragging that cigar out of the corner of his mouth, while the mechanic sputtered and stuttered a bit about how that's why the engine wouldn't start, there was a code on the car's computer for the fuel pump. A wave of hand, glaring. " Whatever. I don't care. Fix it, and do it as fast as you can. You'll send the bill to the bar. " Cigar was resettled, and he was heading out to his truck again, head lowered just a bit against the coming southern storm.
" Send the ... Logan!" Oh yeah, she was already spitting fire, even as he heard her heels against the pavement in his wake. " Ya can't go doin' that. Ah need...Argh!" A growled out sound of frustration, even as she piled into the truck. Blue eyes fixed on him like laser beams. " Ah can't be... There's not shit for a hotel in this town! Ah ... we're talkin' days! " One gloved hand flung up to gesticulate. He just arched a brow as he started up the truck again.
"Don't need a hotel, do ya? You can have the bed tonight, we'll trade off or whatever, until this is done. Not your fault it's happened, and not my fault you're stuck here, so make the best of it. Let's go get some breakfast, and you can bitch at me all you like later, while I stock the bar." Rolling down the street to the diner the truckers that drove through liked to frequent.
Oh, she was angry, and that was one emotion Logan understood well. He knew hse was made at herself, at fate, the mechanic, probably at him, too. She just stewed in silence, plowing through a plate of pancakes like a pro. Gloves had come off, and he stared a moment, watching the movements of pale fingers setting gloves aside for a fork and a knife. Not seeing the small, short nailed hands in front of him, instead remembering the dozens of times, in a dingy little diner like this, he'd watched gloves come off.
When he shook himself out of that daze of memories, blue eyes were on him. Not searching past him, just watching his face with a closely guarded expression. Not quite pity, not quite sympathy, not exactly jealousy.Then eyes shifted, head ducking as she was finishing up.
They were headed back to the bar, and she had yet to say anything beyond asking him to pass the syrup. That was fine by him, he wasn't much of a guy for small talk unless there was a point to it, and something to say. He figured when she was ready, she'd spit it out.
"Ah have ta do something." There it was, just like he knew it was coming. He put the truck in park behind the bar, keys out of the ignition, before he turned to regard her.
"So do it. I'll let you borrow the truck if you want. " Though he had no idea what she could possibly have to do. Laughlin was good as a stop for lumberjacks and truckers, spawning diners, gas stations, bars, and the sort of places rough men like that hung out. Brows furrowed a moment, worrying she could get herself into a tight spot. But she was already shaking her head, spilling red hair over her shoulder.
" Ah didn't mean like goin' somewhere.. there's no where here ta go and do, ya know. Ah meant if you're gonna let me stay here, Ah have to do somethin'. Wait tables, sweep floors, announce the friggin' cage fights, Ah don't care. You're gonna find somethin' for me ta do while Ah'm here, and that's that. " She sounded stubborn and sure of herself, before she was sliding out of the truck, apparently having decided that was the last word. He just smirked to himself, smothering a chuckle. He understood her demand to do something to earn her keep, that was fine.. it was just the way she sassed him that amused him. He just had to think of something, now, that wouldn't put her in harm's way. He'd already taken that protective feeling to heart, deciding fate was doing this for a reason.
"We'll figure something out, Al." Unlocking the door to the bar, to let them both inside. Alessia opened her mouth to say something, before she went still. Then she was rushing ahead of him, down the long back hall into the front bar area. He heard the quiet, cracked voice of Angus forming words before he could see them.
"Hey there, missy. Where is he?" As Logan emerged from the hallway, he saw Al kneeling on the floor next to the old man. A bar stool lay tipped over a foot or so away, and the box of light bulbs and the sprinkling of broken glass on the floor told the story. He saw Al give Angus a sweet smile like he had yet to see on her face for anyone else.
"Oh, he might be around. You all right? Not bleedin', but you're hurt. Ankle and your back, huh?" Blue eyes looked up to Logan, a half questioning, half confident expression. " Ah need some ice packs, aspirin or ibuprofen if you got it. Somethin' ta serve as a splint, and a way ta wrap his ankle. " A glance back down at Angus. " Your back go out often, sunshine? Ah remember my daddy's went out once a year, like clockwork." She scooted over the floor, carefully probing at the old man's ankle. "Doesn't seem broken, can ya move it?" Only to beam at him when he twitched it. " Just a bad sprain, then. "
"Goes out every now 'n' again. Ankle folded over and I hit the ground, heard it pop.. been layin' here since." Grumpy and grumbling, and trying not smile at the young lady smiling at him.
Logan was watching her from behind the bar, even as he sliced up some old bar towels. A couple pieces of flat wood gathered from a crate out back. He emerged from the back room, brows furrowed. " Angus, where do you keep the damned aspirin?" Only to notice gloves on the floor, and Alessia holding the old man's hand. Angus's eyelids were drooping half shut. He started, only to realize she'd made the old coot relax...taken his pain. He shot her a hard look. " Did you..?" Only to get a good look at her face, which told him quite clearly, that she'd acted like a human pain reliever.
" Ya wanna splint his ankle, or get the ice packs?" an almost bruised quality to her voice, as she was rolling up Angus's pant leg, and pushing his boot she'd removed more out of the way. " We'll have ta get him ta bed, keep his ankle up. Keep him off his feet a few days, at the very least. " Eyes glanced up again as she was taking the splint supplies from his hands. " Guess we found a way for me to keep busy, hmm?"
Busy, indeed. Once they got Angus to bed, she helped put the old man to sleep, ignoring Logan's grumbling over hurting herself. She helped clean up the glass, and set to sweeping up the entire bar. Logan finished changing the light bulb the old man had been trying to change when he fell, just watching her. She didn't seem too badly affected, just quiet a bit stiffer in her motions. Eventually, even that faded as she helped him set up for the evening.
He started to protest when she changed before they opened for the night, coming back out in a pair of tight jeans and a black t-shirt. It was what he wore, sure, his sort of unoffical uniform, but..
"What, are you nuts? Men are gonna try to touch you, and you're dressing like that? " She just arched a brow, before she pulled on gloves that lacked the fingers.
"Hush. Don't hear me lecturin' ya, now. Ah have a job ta do, and ya need the help. If Ah can't hack it, Ah'll let ya know." Again that stubborn sassing, and she was obviously determined to see this through. He watched her closely those first few hours, perhaps too closely, from the way she'd elbow him now and again. He maybe shouldn't have worried, what with her quick way of setting a drink down, giving a smile for an answer, and avoiding too much talk
They fell into an easy pattern the next few days, the crowds a little thicker than usual, since they now, according to some of the drunks, had the prettiest bar tender in town. She served the beer and liquor easy enough, and was more friendly than ol' Angus. The tips increased, to be sure, and no one seemed to be overly eager to piss off the Wolverine and grab the woman most of them thought was his. An assumption he was in no hurry to correct, and Alessia let lay for her own reasons.
They got along so easily, that the idea of calling Chuck to have someone come get her, or to send her to mansion in New York, was all but forgotten. He'd missed the easy banter of a friend, the teasing and just having someone to sit with at the end of the night. He knew, once Angus was better, or her car finally fixed, it would all change, but none of that seemed immediate. They were just innocently enjoying each other's company, relaxed with each other enough that she would even reach up to ruffle his hair, or slap him aside without her gloves.She no longer dodged his touch, just grumbling when he'd mess up her hair.
Angus, once his ankle and back had put themselves back together, took advantage of the soft heart of the southern girl, and took off to visit his kids for a few weeks. She made Logan stop protesting, by simply pointing out that it gave them more time to finish the new bar top and install it before the old man got back.Her car was fixed, and just sat in the back next to Logan's beat up truck.
That easy familiarity, that friendship that took quick root and just sprung up between them, made some of the tension slide off the Wolverine's shoulders. He was just a man again, Logan, maybe not with a true home, or the woman he still loved, but he had a place, and someone who cared. A friend he could talk to again.
He should have known it was too good to last.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Yeah I know, I take forever. I need to drink more to get my muses sloshed and jabbering.