The bar stank of stale beer and tobacco but Marie sucked it in eagerly, reminded suddenly of the first time she had seen him, a dark figure in a cage surrounded by baying spectators: Logan. Just thinking his name made her stomach plunge like an elevator. A few years had passed since then, but here she was again, running from a place she had been happy to call home for a while, out of money and out of friends too. The last meeting with Bobby had not been a pleasant one, recriminations flying on both sides. Well, shit. Maybe she should be counting her blessings.

She plunked herself down on one of the barstools, caught the eye of the barman and ordered a soda, grimacing slightly as she felt her jeans stick to the seat. It was that kind of a place. As he passed her the glass his hand brushed her fingers, then he turned away to holler to his wife. Damn, it still gave her a thrill to touch someone and not watch them flinch in pain. She spread her fingers on the bar in front of her, feeling the warm wood and savouring it. She had thought about ceremoniously burning all her gloves, but the fear had stopped her, the fear that this might not last, that somehow she wasn’t meant to be happy. The fear that had driven her to this godforsaken town. The Professor had told her that it would simply take time for her confidence to grow, that the only thing holding her back was a psychological block, but then the Professor had never put someone into a coma just by kissing them. The smile that had rested on her face for a brief moment deserted her.


It was the scent of her that finally led him to the right bar, the same scent he remembered from that very first truck ride after his run-in with a disgruntled cagefight loser who had guessed that the Wolverine’s incredible tolerance for pain was not exactly, well, human. He stalked into the dingy interior, aware that the noise level dropped slightly as he entered but ignoring it. Only one thing was important here, and that was finding Marie and getting the hell out. What the fuck was she doing running to a dive like this in the middle of nowhere, anyway? He was so ticked off he nearly bit through the cigar clamped firmly in the corner of his mouth. Scanning the bar area he suddenly stiffened. A small figure was hunched on a stool to his right, and all his senses were screaming at him that this was her, this was Marie, but something was off. Then he realised. No gloves. He understood then that he hadn’t really believed Xavier when he had informed him that she had gained some measure of control over her ‘abilities’ – Xavier always did like to put a positive spin on everything – but clearly it was true. For a moment he hesitated, aware of a sudden pounding in his ears and his chest, then he threw the cigar butt on the floor and strode over to her, tapping her impatiently on the shoulder.

“Well, kid, it looks like it’s you and me on the road again.”

Marie must have jumped about a foot in the air. Lord, but that man could creep up on a person. She slowly turned and drank him in, her throat so dry it refused to function for a second. He was doing the eyebrow thing, and her heart seemed to flip right over.

“Logan! What…how did you find me?” She knew the answer even as she asked the question: cerebro. But she had chosen a time when Logan had been away, sure that no one else would dispute her right to leave if she wanted to. Seemed that he’d returned at last. ”What are ya doin’ here?”

“What did you think, kid, that I was just going to let you go off all by yourself?”

“Why not? After all, you do it often enough.” It sounded so bitter that she could have bitten her tongue off. Nervously she tucked her hair behind her ears, and his eyes followed the movement. Did the long white streaks running through its glossy blackness remind him of the time she had nearly killed him, she wondered? She took a gulp of the soda with a shaking hand, then jerked away as he made to reach for her, “Don’t touch me!”

For one heart-stopping moment he looked hurt by the rebuff, then he shrugged and said, “The Professor tells me you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“I don’t know, Logan,” she whispered. He frowned but he didn’t back away, and somehow she found her mouth opening and the words tumbling out, unaware until this moment how much she needed to tell someone. “I can control it I think, but I’m not sure, I’m not sure, and what if I hurt someone again? Normally it’s fine, and Bobby said we should, that we should try to…try it out, and he’s been waitin’ so long, but it’s always when I’m emotional that my control slips and what if I kill him? I don’t wanna see anyone else get hurt because of me, Logan, I don’t wanna watch as the life drains out of their face…”

Tears began to drip onto the counter, and her voice cracked. Jesus! Whatever Logan had been expecting it hadn’t been this, and he was momentarily at a loss. It sounded like that creep Bobby had been piling on the pressure, and Logan’s fists curled briefly as he thought of the satisfaction he would get from pummelling the little prick. He wasn’t good at this emotional shit, would much rather be hitting something, but that would have to wait. Gently he touched her shoulder, pulling her against his side and resting his cheek on her hair. There was that scent again, something like vanilla but somehow elusive. He squeezed her gently, beginning to guide her out of the bar.

“Come on, Marie, come on darlin’. Let’s get you cleaned up. Have you got a room somewhere?”

He felt her nod against him, and led her quickly outside, his eyes flashing a warning at any patrons stupid enough to gawp openly at the tall, wild-looking man and the tiny girl clutching his jacket like a life-belt.

***

Marie watched Logan in the fading daylight as he gathered some wood together and set about lighting a fire. He had taken instant exception to her motel room, a muscle working in his jaw as he took in the faded drapes, nicotine-stained ceiling and streaks of damp creeping up the walls.

“Pack your stuff. We’re leaving. Now.”

She had tried protesting, but even to her own ears it had sounded half-hearted. In all honesty the open road with Logan seemed like a little slice of heaven, an opportunity she had thought she would never have again. They had driven away from the town and up into the woods, following a track that became little more than an opening in the trees until Logan finally called a halt, rummaging in the back of his truck and producing blankets and a couple of large waterproof tarps, enough to see them comfortably through the night after he had constructed some kind of shelter. Marie tugged her blanket more tightly around her and nestled back against a tree, happy just to sit and stare while she could. Logan glanced her way then ambled over, hunkering down and gazing into her face, his hands resting loosely on his knees.

“So, you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” Her voice was defiant and yet somehow desperate.

“Hey, kid,” Logan came and sat next to her, putting his arm round her again and holding her against his jacket. The worn leather smelled wonderfully of cigars and woodsmoke, and she breathed in deeply. “You can’t hide out here forever, you know. We were all worried about you.”

“Did Xavier send you after me?”

“Nobody sent me. But I couldn’t just let you go without talkin’ to you. You don’t have to go back to the school if you don’t want to. Hell, you’re too old to be sitting around in a school anyway, but just let me know if I can do anything to help you. That’s all I want to do, darlin’. I just wanna help you.”

Marie swallowed, aware that she might never have this opportunity again. Logan had made his trips away more and more frequently of late, and when he was at the school there were always so many people around. Sometimes she got the feeling the man was avoiding her. But did she have the courage? Blow this, and he would never come within a hundred feet of her again, that was for sure. Was friendship better than nothing? Maybe for some people, but Marie was an all or nothing kind of girl. Hoping that she sounded self-assured rather than shit-scared she blurted out, “Kiss me, Logan.”

He was sure that she couldn’t have said what he thought he’d just heard, but all the same his blood seemed to surge into his head and other parts he simply didn’t want to think about just yet. “Christ, Marie! What the hell do you think I am? I’m not a child-snatcher!”

“And I’m not a child,” she snapped angrily, instantly pulling away from him. “For God’s sake, Logan, look at me! When did you last look at me and really see who I am, not that little kid who hitched a ride in your truck five years ago?”

Logan stared straight ahead at the fire he had made, and she knew by the look on his face that he didn’t want to confront the truth about her. She puffed out a breath and tried another tack. “Look Logan, I need to know this. I need to kiss someone and not have them collapse in a heap at my feet. I think I have enough control to try it, but what if I’m wrong?”

“And Bobby doesn’t want to be your guinea-pig? Yeah, right.”

“Bobby would be only too happy,” she snapped, piqued by his reluctance,”I wouldn’t. You’re just about the only man I know who could survive it if I lost control, Logan.”

Finally a reason that he could make sense of. Logan ran a hand through his hair then over his face, grinding his fists into his eyes to try and wake his brain up. It didn’t seem to be functioning too well. He’d arrived back at the mansion in the early hours wanting nothing more than a hot shower and a bed someplace, but instead he’d found Marie gone and Xavier and the others doing fuck all about it. The lump of ice in his gut that had formed at the thought of Marie alone out there still hadn’t thawed. With his eyes still closed he imagined the scene in the bar again, his superior senses having no trouble recreating every instance; Marie sitting at the bar, long graceful fingers spread on the counter, seeming to caress it; her legs crossed, shapely and covered in blue denim; her eyes huge and startled as she turned to look at him; her full lower lip puckering as tears began to slide down her face, that pale, beautiful face…Shit! When did she turn into a woman without him realising it? How long had he been fooling himself that she was still that scraggly little kid who had nearly died in his arms? He slid a sideways glance at her profile and his eyes locked onto her mouth, imagined covering it with his own. He realised with annoyance that his heart was pounding. What kind of sick pervert did that make him?

As though aware of his scrutiny she turned to look at him, reached out her bare hands and twined them into his jacket.

“Please Logan, please. Just kiss me once, and then I’ll know. One kiss and I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

Even as his brain screamed a warning Logan knew that it was too late. Her face was tilted invitingly up to his, her lush lips slightly parted, and before he could even think of an excuse his mouth was on hers.

Marie knew that this was paradise. The man she had loved for so long, and so hopelessly at times, was finally kissing her and it was everything she had ever dreamed it would be. She was so swept away that several seconds passed before she even thought about her mutation, but Logan didn’t seem to be about to collapse, his arms like bands of iron around her, his palms running up and down her spine. He growled low down in his throat and then his tongue swept into her mouth, seeming to sap her strength with its ruthless plundering, and she sagged helplessly, only the tree trunk at her back preventing her from falling. To someone who had been deprived of any real physical contact for so many years the assault was devastating, new sensations dancing along her nerves in waves of almost painful pleasure. His hands left her back and swiftly tugged away the blanket covering her, burrowing inside her coat and brushing the soft mounds of her breasts insistently, wringing a ragged moan from her swollen lips.

Whether her unintentional sound had recalled Logan to his senses or not she never knew, but he began to withdraw from her and panic flared in her stomach. She couldn’t lose him, not now.

“Logan…Logan, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I want you to touch me!” She almost cried the words, and he leant his forehead against hers, his breathing harsh and rapid.

“You’ve never done this before. I’m not sure I’m the man for the job.” Though it killed him to say it he forced the words out, “Maybe Bobby—“

“I don’t want Bobby!” she gasped, her hands coming up to frame his face, loving the rough feel of his facial hair against her palms, forcing him to look into her eyes, “I want it to be you, Logan. I want you.”

For a moment he wavered, thinking of the reactions of the people they had left behind at the mansion. This was Marie, for Christ’s sake, the girl he had sworn to protect. Some job he was doing at the moment. What would Xavier say, or Scott or Jean? But even as his brain pulled away his hands pulled her closer, pressing her warm body along the length of his. He buried his face in her neck, basking in the warm fragrance he found there, and felt his body stir impatiently. Right now he wanted her more than he could ever remember wanting anybody. Her sudden transformation from girl to woman in front of his eyes had left his senses reeling, her sheer innocence and willingness making the primal part of his nature all but howl inside him. Logan knew that she would do just about anything he told her right now, but he didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings between them.

“Hell, I’ll break you in, honey, if that’s what you want, but I can’t promise to be gentle with you.”

The crudity of the words made Marie flinch, but she knew him better than he realized. One advantage of holding other people inside your head for a while, she reflected bitterly, it sure gave you the inside skinny on the way they behaved. Logan was trying to force her to back off because he couldn’t. Well he’d have a long wait, because she was going nowhere. Grasping her courage in both hands she wriggled just far enough away from him so that she could pull her shirt over her head, glad that her fiery cheeks were cloaked in the garment when she heard him gasp.

Suddenly the world tilted on its axis, the trees and campfire spinning madly, and Marie realized that Logan was lifting her. She sneaked a look up at his face and acknowledged that there was no going back, not now. His eyes burnt as they swept over her, dark with passion and intent. He lowered her carefully onto the wad of blankets they had pulled out of his truck and then he fell on her, his mouth blazing a trail down her neck and over her collarbones, his fingers rapidly unhooking the clasp of her bra and tossing it away into the darkness. He traced the outline of her breasts with one finger, following each movement with his eyes, and then did the same with his tongue, torturing her flesh with each langourous stroke. Marie heard herself whimper as he came close to the peak of her breast, but instead of taking it into his mouth as she longed for him to do he continued to tease her until she felt she would explode with need.

“Please, Logan, please…” her dry mouth could scarcely force the words out, and for a moment he lifted his head, his eyes black pools of triumph and desire. He needed to hear her beg, she realized, the dominant part of his nature revelling in her helplessness, her utter subjection. Logan was a man who desperately needed to feel in control, but she knew instinctively that he would never harm or humiliate her. “God, Logan, I need to feel your mouth on me. Please touch me, make love to me…Please.”

Logan heard her words through the sensual haze, and they seemed to fill up a part of him that had been empty and desolate. Stretched out beneath him, her black hair rippled across the blanket, with the warm glow of the fire flickering across her white skin, she was just about the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he was suddenly glad that no other man had ever touched her and fiercely determined that no other man ever would. She was his, and the urge to bury himself inside her softness and stay there became imperative.

Pushing himself up slightly he rapidly undid the buttons of her jeans, pulling them off in one swift movement. Then he finally captured one hard nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping until Marie cried out in rapture, before moving on to the next. At the same time his fingers slipped inside her panties, tenderly stroking and parting the damp flesh until she writhed beneath him, his name falling from her lips in soft cries. Cautiously, he pushed one finger inside her, marvelling at the heat and tightness of her flesh. He felt her legs tense and then, as he began to stroke his finger slowly in and out of her, she gave a sigh and relaxed against him, opening herself up to his intimate exploration.

His hands now shaking with the force of the blood surging through his veins, Logan raised his finger to his lips and slowly licked the moisture from it, wanting to taste her, to experience everything she had to offer him.

“Jesus, baby,” he groaned as she shyly reached up to stroke his swollen flesh through the denim of his jeans. She fumbled with the belt and buttons, and with a hoarse laugh he brushed her hands aside and finished the job himself, scooting out of his jeans and laughing again at the look on her face when she realized he had no underwear on. Then all he could do was groan her name over and over as he finally felt her skin against him, her thighs parting naturally to urge him closer.

“Are you sure?” he whispered harshly, and for answer she raised her hips and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer. Damn panties! One swift jerk and the flimsy scrap of material was torn away, and then there was just heat, incredible heat. He positioned his cock at her entrance, nudging gently into her body, then raised himself slightly, bracing himself on his hands and elbows so that he could look down at her face. She gazed back at him, calm and trusting, and then he surged into her with one long thrust, watching her gasp and squeeze her eyes shut as the barrier of her virginity was broken. For a long moment they remained unmoving, joined in the most intimate way possible. Logan was aware of the possessiveness he had always felt around Marie, the need to protect her, increasing a hundredfold, his brain bellowing the word MINE so insistently he could almost hear it echoing through the wood. Slowly he withdrew until he was almost out of her body, then he gradually surged forward again, filling her tight channel with his hot hard flesh. He stroked into her body again, still braced on his hands, watching her forehead furrow and her mouth work as she tried to form a coherent word. Finally she gasped “Logan!” and lifted herself into him, allowing him to penetrate further, and his control snapped. He grasped her wrists, holding them above her head, and plunged into her again and again, driving himself to her very heart. He heard her scream as she convulsed around him and then he gave a shout, ramming himself into her one more time as he felt his seed spurt deep within her.

Marie felt that she had never known such peace. The ground was hard against her back, even through the blankets, and the weight of Logan’s body as he lay sprawled on top of her seemed to be crushing the air from her lungs, and yet she wouldn’t want to change a thing. She ran her hands through his tousled mane of hair, pressing random kisses anywhere she could reach, and when he finally lifted his head and looked at her she became aware of the inane grin plastered on her face. Logan sighed deeply and rolled onto his side, pulling her to lie against him. He wrapped his fist in a lock of her hair, then fixed her with a stare so serious that she inwardly quailed. Was this the part where he told her that it was nothing serious? Well, she had told him she wouldn’t bother him again if he kissed her -- what the fuck had she been thinking of? Suddenly embarassed by her nudity and the stickiness between her legs she made to move away, but Logan tightened his grip, holding her chin between his fingers so that she couldn’t avoid him.

“You realise there’s no way in hell I’m delivering you back to Bobby now, don’t you?” he growled, his finger flicking her cheek caressingly, “You’re mine, Marie. You understand? So you better forget any ideas you may have about experimenting with this new freedom of yours right now.”

The threat in his voice was unmistakable, as was the possessiveness, and knowing him as she did Marie smothered her smile, instead whispering tenderly, “I’ve always been yours, Logan. From the minute I climbed into your truck. I love you, always have and always will. This was never about Bobby, ‘cause I’ve never wanted him as much as I want you.”

A tear escaped and trickled down her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb before kissing her and burying his face in her hair.

“I love you, Marie.”

The words were muffled by her hair but nonetheless she heard them, and she smiled, content that he was finally hers after so many years of waiting.

“Marie, what is that perfume you wear?” he murmured, nuzzling her and breathing deeply, making her squirm and laugh.

“I’m not wearing any perfume.”

“It figures,” he muttered, starting to press moist, open-mouthed kisses against the side of her neck. “You’re going to drive me mad, woman, but I think I like having you all to myself, miles away from civilization. Whadya say we stay here for a while?”

“What? Right here on the blanket you mean? But what’ll we do all night?” She tried to keep her expression innocent.

“I’m sure I can think of some things that’ll keep us warm.”

He started to show her just what they could do, his tongue and lips inducing a sweet lethargy that was impossible to resist. Marie didn’t even try.

“Whatever you say, sugah.”

That caught his attention. “Sugar?”

“It just feels right somehow,” she replied, tentatively touching his face, “D’you mind?”

He did the eyebrow thing again. “Actually, I kinda like it.”

Then there were no more words.


The End