Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time in Mexico...



“You take American?”

The man known only as Wolverine slid a twenty-dollar bill across the counter without waiting for an answer from the unassuming teenaged boy sitting behind the counter of the gas station booth, who seemed considerably more interested in the magazine he was reading than in the large man towering over him. Snapping his gum, the boy leaned forward, grabbed the bill, and tossed the man’s change onto the counter without looking up from his article. Wolverine, putting his change away, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a weathered, dog-eared photograph.

“You seen this girl?” he asked, holding the picture up in front of him and glaring at the boy through the amber lenses of his sunglasses.

“No, no see,” the boy replied, eyes still glued to the glossy page before him. He tilted his chair farther backward and was about to put his foot up onto the counter when a massive arm shot across the counter, grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him into standing position. Now that Wolverine had gotten the kid’s full attention, he decided to give him one more chance to carefully consider the question at hand.

“The girl," he snarled this time, holding the photograph up in front of the boy’s nose. "You seen her?”

The boy opened his mouth to answer, but nearly choked on his gum when he noticed three long metal claws extending slowly from between the man’s knuckles, coming dangerously close to his jugular vein.

“Think,” growled an agitated Wolverine, baring his teeth as the boy began to tremble with fear.

“N-No, señor, ain’t seen ‘er,” the boy finally sputtered. Wolverine could smell the fear rolling off the boy in distinct waves, and inferred that he was telling the truth. Deciding to stop just short of making the kid piss himself, he released his grip on the young man, who in turn risked a glance at the shaded eyes of the giant in front of him before shrinking back down into his chair. Wolverine turned and began to walk out, but then stopped abruptly at the door, plucking a copy of Hustler from the newsstand.

“How much?” he asked, holding it up to the boy.

“S’okay, man, no charge. Free.” the kid replied, still shaking, hands held up and open. The man may as well have been holding a gun instead of a girlie mag.

“Hey, thanks buddy.” Wolverine flashed the boy a savage grin before turning on his heels and stepping back out into the relentless heat of the Mexican sun. Climbing back into his Wrangler, he pulled his road map out of the glove compartment, uncapped a red felt-tipped pen and drew an “X” through the town marked Poza Rica. He put the engine into gear and peeled away, tires squealing and kicking up dust behind him as he pulled out onto the seemingly endless dirt road.

The assignment had come to him almost a month ago. Arrived in his post office box on a Monday morning, just as all the others had. Same deal, every time: plain brown envelope, no return address. Inside, a photograph and a single white piece of paper, words typed on it in black ink. The information and instructions contained within were clear, brief, to the point. Just the way Wolverine liked things.

SUBJECT: Rogue
SEX: F
AGE: 19
HEIGHT: 5’6”
WEIGHT: 125 lb
EYES: Brown
HAIR: Brown w/ white streak

A few special instructions were provided a little further down on the page:

Subject believed to be somewhere in Mexico. Deliver her to me alive and unharmed. Do not make contact with her skin, it is lethal.

Payment details were given at the bottom of the sheet. The first half of the cash reward, $1.5 million dollars to be exact, had already been wired to his offshore account; he would collect the rest of the bounty upon delivery.

Though the money part of the deal had been generous, Wolverine had almost refused the job. First off, the subject in question was female, and a young female at that. He didn’t know what this Magneto dude wanted with the girl, but knew it had to be bad news. Wolverine was by no means a saint, but that was where he drew the line.

Secondly, Wolverine’s specialty was in intimidation and extermination, not kidnapping. And all of the contract murders he’d done thus far had consisted of wasting some seriously sick fucks who’d probably deserved to die anyway. He had almost taken pleasure in the killings, justifying them to himself as simply putting the vermin of the world out of their pathetic misery.

Above and beyond all of that, he’d already had a pretty penny saved up from taking on various other contracts and odd jobs. Magneto’s had been the best paying of those assignments, of course…so much so that Wolverine had actually been tossing around the idea of retiring altogether. He’d buy a houseboat, maybe; sail the Caribbean seas for awhile, something he’d been thinking about doing more and more lately. He had been more or less ready to relinquish his status as an independent contractor and get out of this shit for good. He’d almost refused the job.

The reason he didn’t was contained in the second line of the payment details.

The man was smart, Wolverine had to give him that. Because in addition to the rest of the cash, there was something else on the table that would ensure Wolverine’s cooperation. Something of great personal importance to the lone warrior, more valuable to him than all of the money in the world could buy. Something that made him choke down whatever bit of reluctance remained in his world-weary bones, lace up his combat boots, and hit the ground running. Screw feeling sorry for the kid. He was Wolverine, the best there was at what he did.

And he was going to find the girl and deliver her into Magneto’s hands if it killed him.

Wolverine placed a cigar between his teeth and watched in the rear view mirror as the gas station slowly disappeared into the palpable waves of heat behind him. He’d been on the road for nearly a month now, following leads that led to nowhere. He had searched nearly every square inch of Mexico, leaving no stone unturned in his wake. But so far the answer was the same, from everyone in every village.

No, señor. No, man. Ain’t seen her. Don’t know her.

Holding the steering wheel steady with one hand, he reached into his back pocket for the photo and pulled it out to make what had to be his hundredth study of it. He really didn’t need to study it anymore; he’d memorized her features long ago. Eyes deep brown, big and doe-like. Delicate bone structure. Clear luminous skin, face of an angel. Long, thick auburn hair - no white streak, as was mentioned in the memo, but then the photo was probably a few years old.

She would be older now, a young lady, her facial features a little more refined and striking than they were when the photo was taken. The edges of the picture were beginning to tatter and crease, for Wolverine kept it in his pocket at all times, his attachment to it growing reminiscent of that of a man on a desperate search for a lost lover. He put the photo back in its place, returning his attention to the road.

One more assignment. That’s it. Then I’m out.

A road sign was coming into view now…fifty more miles to the next town. Wolverine’s foot sank down on the gas pedal. If he hurried, he could make it there within the hour.

~*~

Chapter 2: The Chase



Rogue shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she stood on the wooden patio of the diner, notepad and pen in hand as she waited to take the order of an extremely picky customer. It was a scorcher today, and having been on her feet and under the sun for most of morning and early afternoon, she was quickly growing tired of the patron’s indecisiveness.

She took a glance at her watch while the woman seated at the table scanned the menu. There’s not much on it, for crying out loud, Rogue thought to herself, and that was the truth. This diner was about as far as one could get from gourmet cuisine. The items offered on the menu consisted basically of a few authentic Mexican dishes, coffee, tea, and soft drinks.

In the best Spanish she could manage (which wasn’t very much), Rogue offered the fickle woman a few more minutes to decide, and started to turn, but the woman lifted a finger, a signal that kept Rogue riveted to the spot. Not bothering to hide her sigh of exasperation this time, Rogue took another glance at her watch. A few more minutes, then she could finally take that much needed break. Another thirty seconds went by before the woman finally came to a decision. Rogue hastily scribbled the order on her notepad, pushing an errant white lock of hair back into her ponytail as she headed back into the diner to fetch the woman’s drink.

"Rosa!" Graciela, the head waitress, called to Rogue as she took a glass from the bar. It took Rogue a moment or two before she realized the woman was calling to her. She’d been in this town for six months, and yet she still hadn’t gotten used to the few people she knew calling her by that name. She sometimes thought it sadly ironic that she’d had to use one alias to cover up another. She looked to the front of the diner to see Graciela waving a white envelope. The paychecks were in, and not a moment too soon, either. She nodded an acknowledgement to the older Mexican lady before returning to the patio with her customer’s drink.

That part of the order taken now taken care of, Rogue went back inside to take a breather. She grabbed her paycheck from beside the cash register, running a fingernail under the sealed flap as she headed to the doorway of the kitchen, where she would find her only solace from the sweltering heat: a large, industrial fan. She pulled the check out from the envelope. Her pay was meager, as usual. Sometimes it hadn’t even been enough to eat on for a whole week, but she could usually eke out a meal or two from the restaurant whenever she was on the closing shift.

At least I don’t have to pay rent on this, she thought to herself, leaning back against the bar and waving the envelope in front of her face as the breeze from the fan began to cool her burning skin. In another hour, her shift would be over, and then she would make the long trek back to her tiny room at the one-star motel, peel off her green cotton waitress uniform and pull on the blue pinstriped uniform required of all the inn’s maids. Providing housecleaning duties in exchange for room and board had never been her greatest aspiration, but things could have been worse. At least she had a roof over her head, and besides, no one there knew who she was.

The small copper bell above the screen door at the front of the diner rang to signal the entry of yet another customer. Rogue squeezed her eyes shut, a mock sob escaping her mouth. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. They were overworked and understaffed today; as a result, every table on the patio was already taken, and the indoor dining room was quickly filling up. If she never poured another cup of coffee in her life, it would be too soon.

Rogue kept her back turned to the front of the diner for a few moments, wondering what her lucky prize would be. A party of twelve, maybe? A family full of screaming kids? When the noisy chatter in the room went from bedlam to suspiciously dim, she finally turned around to see what she had won. She was very pleasantly surprised.

The man that lumbered up to the front cash was quite a sight to behold. Rogue gave him a once over – a twice over, actually – as he signaled to Graciela, who in turn made a beeline to the front counter. Rogue couldn’t blame her; he had a confident, commanding presence about him that just about every female in the room had picked up on. He wasn’t Mexican, Rogue could see that right off the bat. He was American; Canadian maybe...

The man's arms and shoulders were tanned and muscular, and molded gracefully into a marvelous chest that no doubt existed under the black tank clinging to it. Rogue’s eyes traveled downward to take in the beige khakis and the combat boots, lingering for a moment on his behind – she could only see it from the side, but it was no doubt as impressive as his upper body. Moving back up to his face, Rogue took in the thick, dark brown hair on his head and considered the possibility that mutton chops on a man were not such a bad thing after all.

A set of dogtags hung around the man's neck, and Rogue surmised that he must have been in the army. She didn’t need to wonder for long about the beauty hidden by the large amber lenses on his face however, because he removed them and leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter as he fixed his intense gaze on Graciela. The moment he did so, Sofia, another waitress on shift, gave him a light pinch on the butt as she passed him, balancing a tray of drinks on one hand.

"Hey, papi," she cooed as she slipped past him. He started at first, then turned his head and gave her a wink as she walked by. Gotta love Sofia, Rogue thought to herself, smiling. That girl never misses a beat. Watching as the man reached into his back pocket and handed something to Graciela, Rogue quickly grabbed a menu from atop the bar. She was going to be serving this one, if she had anything to say about it. The smile on Rogue’s lips slowly faded as she started to realize that something was not right with this picture.

In fact, there were three things that were very, very wrong with it.

For one thing, this wasn’t exactly a tourist area. There were no resorts, no major hotels, no major attractions even. The diner was remote and backed onto a large wooded area…there was a beach nearby, but it certainly wasn’t one of the most scenic or attractive that Mexico had to offer and was mostly frequented by locals.

When she thought about it, Rogue couldn’t remember ever having seen an American, or a Canadian, or anyone not Mexican, for that matter, walk into the diner in the however brief period of time that she had worked there. The second and third things wrong with the picture were grasped in the man’s left hand. There was no reason, none whatsoever, for anyone to be walking around with a pair of leather gloves in July…

…in Mexico.

Rogue spun around so that her back was facing the man again, her heartbeat quickening as her eyes darted toward the back door of the diner. He hadn’t seen her yet; she could still make a quiet exit. No sooner had she taken her first step than she heard Graciela tell the man in Spanish that yes, yes she did know the girl in the picture.

"Rosa!" she called out.

Rogue, frozen on the spot, slowly turned her head to meet her fate. Wide brown eyes locked onto deep, hazel ones, time standing still for a few moments in a scene that would appear to the unaware as two people struck by love at first sight. The look in the man’s eyes was not one of love though…no, this was the look of a predator who had just gotten his first taste of blood.

"Hey!"

That one word, barked from the man’s mouth, was what finally mobilized her. She bolted for the back door, tables and dishes crashing down behind her as customers began to scream in surprise. She heard Graciela yell angrily at her as she fumbled with the latch on the screen door. Panic began to spread quickly within her as she saw the man push a few people out of the way first, then leap up onto the bar to avoid the jungle of tables separating them, his boots thudding heavily on the wood as he scrambled to get to her.

Drinking glasses fell and shattered as he ran the length of the bar toward the back of the dining room, the customers’ shocked yells reaching significant levels as they shielded their faces from the flying shards. She heard something between a yell and a growl come from the man’s throat as he stalked toward her, and -

Dear God, are those knives he’s holding?

Rogue wasn’t about to stick around to find out. The moment he reached the end of the bar and leapt down, she shoved a table into his path and dashed out of the back door, hearing the massive thump his body made as he tripped over the sudden obstacle in his path and tumbled to the wooden floor. Rogue ran across the patio and bounded down the steps, passing the woman she had been serving, who promptly began yelling to the girl in Spanish about why her dish was taking so long. The sound of rubber soles pounding on wood were not far behind her as she scrambled up the hill behind the diner, her fingers clawing at the earth, feet slipping beneath her and then finding traction as she darted into the trees.

Twigs snapped under two pairs of feet as Rogue led the man on a wild chase through the bush, the branches of the tropical trees whipping and scratching at her face and legs. Just as the footsteps were beginning to fade behind her, her foot hit a rock, her sandal hitching onto it and sending her flying forward. Stumbling to her feet, she took a moment to rub her scraped kneecap, then was spurned into action again as the sound of snapping twigs grew louder behind her.

Rogue ran and stumbled and kept running until she noticed trees growing less dense, sunlight piercing through the spaces in the palm leaves, indicating a clearing ahead. She slowed down her pace a little as she realized that she could no longer hear the footsteps of the man hunting her. She’d lost him. She sighed in relief, panting heavily and trying to catch her breath as she ambled toward the clearing.

The earth beneath her feet was turning to sand as she walked toward the light. The beach. She’d run a good distance. Her exhausted legs gave way under her as she reached the end of the bush and slid down the small slope leading to the coast. She was a mess now, her green cotton dress marred by earth and sand. She stood up and took a moment to look around. She had apparently come upon one of the more secluded spots on the beach; she couldn’t see anyone for miles.

Tears began to sting at her eyes as her mind replayed what had just taken place. Her mind raced, trying to come up with some idea as to what she was going to do now. She couldn’t go back to the motel, especially not since the man chasing her knew her alias. It was a small town, and it wouldn’t be long before he’d find out where she was staying. She would have to go back to the room at some point though, at least to gather what few belongings she had. When is this going to end, she thought to herself, breaking into sobs as the tears started streaming down her face.

How long am I going to have to keep running?

She didn’t need to wonder for long. Before she could even register what was happening, her legs were kicked out from under her, sending her flying backward into the sand. She barely had time to reel from the shock before a large male figure sat atop her, each of his knees pinning down one of her elbows, rendering her arms immobile.

One of the man’s gloved hands went to her throat, the other making a fist in front of her nose as three metal talons slid out from between the knuckles, the glint of the sun on the adamantium nearly blinding her. Rogue looked into the man’s hazel eyes as he leaned in close to her face.

"Don’t scream," he growled menacingly. "Don’t move…don’t even breathe."

~*~

Chapter 3: On The Road Again



Wolverine watched the girl’s eyes in the rear-view mirror as he fished through the glove compartment for a cigar, finally locating one and lighting it. She’d given him quite a chase, but in the end, she hadn’t put up much of a fight; he’d had little trouble convincing her to behave as they made the long walk back to the jeep, one gloved hand holding the back of her neck, the other holding a claw to her back.

To pass the time as they hiked back through the dense bush, Wolverine gave her a blow by blow account of exactly how to remove a man’s vocal chords without anesthetic…and without killing him.

She’d gotten the picture. Perhaps even a little to clearly, because she hadn’t uttered a single syllable during the walk and hadn’t struggled to get free when he deposited her into the back seat of the Wrangler, roughly binding her ankles and wrists.

She’d spent the last 150 miles of driving in complete silence, the look in her eyes reflecting a sense of defeat and a sadness much greater than Wolverine had expected to encounter when he first set out on the mission to find her.

It’s nothing personal. It’s just an assignment. A very important assignment.

That was what he told himself every time their eyes met and the silent tears started rolling down her cheeks, every time his enhanced sense of smell picked up on her overwhelming fear and apprehension, every time his sensitive ears caught the soft hitch in her breath that to any other person would have gone unheard.

It was dark now, the sun having dipped behind the mountains in the distance a few hours earlier. Wolverine had already contacted Magneto to arrange a drop-off point. Told him he’d found the girl and was coming to collect what was owed to him.

He and the girl still had two or three days or so of driving time ahead of them though,and at the moment, they were about fifty miles between Bumfuck and If -I-Lived-Here-I’d-Shoot-Myself, so it was just him, her, the moonlight and the open road.

Logan was beginning to realize that it would be a very long and tedious ride if they remained silent any longer than they already had. From murder to kidnapping to babysitting, he thought to himself. It’s definitely time to retire.

“Look, this is just my job, kid,” he offered gruffly, though the statement was meant more to assuage himself than her. He didn’t know, couldn’t remember if he’d ever had a sister, a mother…a wife…but knew that if he did, he wouldn’t wish on them the kind of terror that awaited this girl. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” he said, a little softer this time.

“No, but he will,” she replied under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear her. Then a little louder, “He’ll torture me for escaping the first time, then he’ll kill me…but not before he forces me…”

She trailed off then, the silent tears starting again as she broke his gaze and looked out of the window. He didn’t need to ask what the rest of that sentence was, and felt a knot beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what this girl had done to piss Magneto off so badly, but surely it hadn’t been so bad as to deserve what was coming to her. At the same time, there was so much riding on this one…too much riding on it.

“Why don’t you just zap him with your skin?” he shot back at her, noticing for the first time how much of it she had exposed, and wondering for a moment why she hadn’t tried to harm him with it. It was not like he’d been the least bit afraid of her supposedly lethal skin, anyway…the gloves had been more of a precaution than a necessity. He’d known this one wasn’t going to get away.

“I can control it,” she answered, almost as quickly as the question left his lips. “And he has ways…methods…of making sure that I do when he… he…”

Again, Wolverine didn’t need the second half of that sentence as the appalling images inspired by the girl’s words flashed through his head. Her breath was coming in full sobs now as she lowered her head to her chest. It was the last thing either of them said for almost another hour, at which point Wolverine shifted the gear stick into neutral and slammed his foot down on the brakes, bringing the jeep to a skidding halt on the gravel of the deserted road.

~*~*~

Rogue’s body slid forward on the leather seat as the man screeched to a stop. For awhile, he didn’t say or do anything. She watched him, wide-eyed as he took a puff from his cigar, then tossed it outside of the jeep. He brought his head down to rest on the steering wheel for a few moments before he opened the door and got out.

Her eyes followed him as he passed behind the vehicle and stalked toward the side of the road, claws unsheathed, and then she screamed when he flew into a rage, his razor sharp talons sinking into the bark of the palm trees lining the road. His breath came in heavy pants and he roared loudly as he shredded everything in sight.

He stopped suddenly and turned back toward the jeep, his chest heaving, claws still exposed. Rogue skittered farther back in the seat as he stomped toward her, the dark look in his eyes frightening her. He ripped the door open and grabbed her by the ankles, sliding her toward him and pulling her out of the car.

“No! No, don't --" she rasped, struggling as he set her down on the grass. She was sitting up now, trying to scoot farther backward as his shadow fell on her, thinking of the flash she had seen in his eyes when she told him that her skin was touchable. She did not expect what happened next.

He said nothing as he bent down, slid a claw between her ankles and cut her legs free. He then moved up to unbind her wrists, grabbing her roughly by the arm and pulling her to her feet.

“Go on, get outta here,” he grumbled, motioning to the road as he started back to the door of the jeep.

Rogue looked around her. They were in the middle of nowhere; she had no idea where they were. “What do you mean ‘get outta here’? Where am I supposed to go?” she asked as he opened the driver’s side door.

“I dunno,” he replied.

“You don’t know or you don’t care?” she asked as he started the engine.

“Pick one,” he said, cutting her off sharply and putting the engine into gear. He softened a bit then, seeing the look of desperation on her face.

“Look kid, you’re no better off with me," he said. "In exactly forty-eight hours Magneto’s gonna be lookin’ for both of us, and then we’ll both be in one hell of a shit hole. Best we just go our separate ways. Just don’t let me catch you again…you may not be so lucky next time.”

With that, he drove off, leaving Rogue standing in the middle of a dirt road wondering what on earth she was going to do.

~*~*~

Wolverine watched the girl in his mirror as he drove away, seeing her first throw her hands up in despair and then kick at the gravel of the road, obviously trying to work out where she was going to go from here. What he’d told her was true…he’d already arranged a drop off time and place, which meant that in two days, Magneto would be a very angry man.

Wolverine wasn’t so much afraid for his own safety, knowing that he could take care of himself where the fucker was concerned; it was the girl he was thinking of, and that was saying a lot for someone who had never cared - never bothered to care - for anyone other than himself. Magneto would continue to hunt her, wouldn’t rest until she was found, and so long as she was with Wolverine, that risk would be there.

Then again, she wasn’t much safer on her own, was she?

He felt his resolve disintegrating the farther he drove away from her. He’d already had one foot in this mess, and the Wolverine never did anything halfway. He didn’t make it one hundred feet before he brought the vehicle to a stop and put it into park for the second time that night. He heard rather than saw her as she jogged up the road to the jeep, opened the door, and climbed into the passenger seat.

They didn’t say anything for awhile. His eyes were fixed on the road, trying to come up with a way out of the current mess they were in. She was sitting silently, hands clasped in her lap. Then she finally broke the silence.

“Marie,” she said solemnly.

“What was that?’ he asked her.

“My name," she said. "It’s Marie.”

He took his eyes off the road and looked at her, his gaze softening a bit as he took in her admission. He began to wonder how long she had been running. She was young, yes, and had definitely matured – in a good way – from the photo he had been given; but there was a steely strength in her eyes, a hardened, jaded look that told him she’d been trying to escape something for a long time.

Up until that moment, there had been only one other person in the world who knew his real name, or at least what he believed his real name to be.

“My name’s Logan.”

Now there were two.

~*~

Chapter 4: Open Water



Logan removed the half empty beer bottle dangling from the now sleeping girl’s fingers and sat down on the wooden chair across from the bed of their tiny motel room, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched her chest rise and fall in slumber.

This wasn’t the first time he’d found himself with a beautiful woman in his bed – and beautiful she was, her long, dark hair now loose and splayed across her pillow, her flawless skin glowing a healthy rose on account of the beer (or three) that Logan had offered her in place of the proverbial olive branch.

It was the first time, however – at least that Logan could remember - that said beautiful woman would not be breathing heavily and screaming his name by the time the night was through. The girl must have sensed that, because she was a little apprehensive upon entering the room that Logan had rented for the night and finding that there was only one double sized bed.

He’d assured the girl again that he didn’t mean to harm her, and she relaxed a bit, then loosened up a bit more after chugging down her first beer. As she grew tipsier, Logan picked up a distinct southern twang in her speech, one that she had no doubt worked very hard to disguise during her time on the run.

Logan listened intently as she relayed to him the story of her accidental discovery of her mutation; a mutation which allowed her the ability to absorb people’s life energy, personalities, even their “gifts”, all with a simple touch. Logan learned that she had been on her own for just over three years, drifting at first from town to town, before being captured by Magneto, who had held her captive for months while he experimented on some machine he was building…then later on her. She had eventually escaped and fled to Mexico in the hopes that Magneto would not find her there.

Logan knew that this Magneto guy was a sicko, but the stories that the girl told him made his knuckles itch with the urge to tear the freak a new asshole. But first things first; he had to find some way out of this seemingly impossible situation. The clock was ticking; he’d have to come up with some way to appease Magneto, to stall him for a while until he could deliver the girl to safety. And at the present moment, he had no idea how he was going to accomplish that feat. What he did know was that he had to separate himself from the girl within the space of the next few days. The sooner he got her off his hands, the better.

Logan took a last glance at the sleeping girl’s form before standing up and removing his tank top, noticing for a moment how her long legs extended from the white tee shirt that he had offered her from his duffel bag. To say that the shirt was big for her would have been an understatement; she was practically swimming in it.

He peeled off his khakis and changed into a pair of black sweatpants, the closest thing he could find to pajama bottoms in the pack he carried with him. He was used to sleeping alone and in the buff, so this would definitely be a new experience for him. He turned off the dim lamp on the bedside table and lay down on the bed opposite to her, his head at her feet. He stared up at the wooden beams on the ceiling, his fingers moving to his chest to fondle the dogtags resting there.

Were you in the army? Don’t those mean you were in the army?

The girl’s question had been simple, but it was one that Logan couldn’t answer. He had actually wondered that very same thing when he woke up naked and in the snow fifteen years earlier, with no memory of who or what he was. What he did remember consisted basically of survival instincts, including how to either gut someone without leaving so much as a scratch on the outside, or how to julienne them without damaging a single vital organ.

He knew how to build a shelter, how to start a fire with next to nothing for kindling; he knew how to set traps, how to stalk prey. In an ironic twist of fate, it had been at the exact time that he wanted nothing more than to die that he realized he had at his disposal the very tools and skills that would ensure his survival.

He wasn’t able to answer the question about his having been in the army, but he was able to answer the question about the dogtags. He explained to her that they were not, in fact a souvenir from years of service, but rather a tracking device. They were part of the deal with Magneto…his insurance against Logan running off with his money.

Logan saw the girl’s eyes widen in realization that Magneto knew of their current whereabouts and pointed out that to remove the dogtags would cause more alarm than keeping them on, at least for the time being. As far as Magneto was aware, the pair had simply stopped to rest for the night before continuing on to the drop off point.

Logan wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead and closed his eyes, wondering how he was going to get any sleep in this unforgiving heat. He must have been more exhausted than he had realized, though, because in no time at all he drifted off, joining Marie in slumber.

~*~*~

The nightmares were always the same. Strange faces, seen through a green, watery filter; the muffled sounds of laughter, champagne glasses being passed around…a celebration?…couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could only lay and watch helplessly as a gloved hand descended into the murky green liquid, holding a syringe filled with molten metal, his soundless screams creating bubbles before his eyes, blurring the faces even further…he was drowning…choking…and then the pain, oh God, that searing, burning unbearable pain, and –

“AAAAAARRRGHHHHHH!”

Logan awoke with a jolt, adrenaline tearing through his veins as he leapt up roaring, claws unsheathed, the animal in him taking over as he pounced and sank his claws fist deep into something soft...something veiled by a thin white bed sheet. A few moments passed before the haze of his nightmare subsided and Logan realized where he was. He was in a bed… in a motel room…the motel room that he and the girl were staying in.

Oh fuck. Oh shit. The girl. I fuckin’ killed the girl.

Logan retracted his claws, his chest still heaving as he looked at the motionless lump beneath him. He took a deep, shaky breath before ripping the sheet away to reveal that what he had shredded had been nothing more than a down filled pillow. An unfamiliar sense of relief washed over him as he picked up the pillow in one fist, white feathers falling out of the three long gashes he’d made in the casing.

“Sorry ‘bout that, bub,” he mumbled as he threw the pillow to the floor. Logan ran a hand through his ruffled hair as he looked around the room, all traces of sleep leaving him when he noticed that the girl was nowhere in sight. He bolted out of the bed and stalked toward the bathroom, if one could even call it that. He didn’t find her there, and strange sense of concern began to nag at him as he stormed out of the motel room, bare chested and footed.

She was nearby, Logan could tell, because he caught a wisp of her scent on the warm July breeze. Just as he’d had her image memorized, so had he had her scent. It was one that reminded him of clover in springtime; it was a scent that was fresh and young and uniquely hers. Logan followed it through the palm trees lining the motel’s property until he came upon a nearby riverbank. Here, her scent was strongest, yet he still couldn’t see her. He was also picking up another scent…

…his?

Logan looked down and saw his tee shirt, the one that he had given to Marie, laying in the grass in a pile at his feet, beside it a towel and a pair of ladies’ underwear. Logan looked to the moonlit river just in time to see Marie emerge to the surface, the splash of the water creating the only sound in the dark night besides the crickets in the grass. He nearly had a heart attack right then and there.

She was naked. Wet and naked. Naked and wet. Naked and…naked.

Logan ducked behind the palm tree beside him as he watched her stand up in the shallow water of the river, her hands moving up to smooth her hair from her face, her perfect breasts and svelte torso revealing themselves to him as she did so. With the moonlight playing off of her ample curves, she reminded Logan of a siren…not the type of siren referred to in modern day language, but rather the type described by the ancient Greeks; a breathtaking vision rising from the water, capable of hypnotizing men and sinking ships with her beautifully entrancing song.

And hypnotized he was. Logan stood riveted to the spot as Marie disappeared under the water again for a few seconds, then came back up, floating on her back, her graceful arms moving above her head and waving through the water to keep her afloat. He felt muscles he didn’t even know he had tighten as she twirled onto her front again and then dove forward, disappearing again into the still, dark river.

Yep, this was going to be one hell of a long and torturous road trip.

Knowing that he probably shouldn’t be watching her as she swam – not if he planned on getting any sleep that night - Logan turned to head back to the motel room, but stopped when he didn’t hear her come up from the water again. He turned back to the river. The water was still and quiet. He stepped closer to the riverbank, waiting for her to emerge. When a few seconds passed and she still didn’t come up for air, Logan’s muscles tensed again, but for an entirely different reason this time…a looming sense of danger. He gave her five more seconds to appear, and when she didn’t, he dove into the river to find her.

~*~*~

Marie floated beneath the surface of the water, reveling in the cool sensation it had on her skin. The heat in the motel room had been unbearable, and she had woken up sweaty and unable to get back to sleep. Having noticed a river close to the motel, she decided to seek out some relief from the hot summer night. God, how it felt so good to be naked, and free, and…

…in someone’s arms?

Marie began to panic and struggle as she felt strong male arms encircling her tiny waist and pulling her to the surface of the water. She stopped struggling as she realized that it was Logan holding her, or rather crushing her to him, her hands pressed against his broad, muscular chest.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doin’, kid?”

Logan’s words came in a soft growl, but Marie didn’t sense any anger in it. She’d only heard him growl twice in the short time that she’d known him; once inside of the diner, which she’d categorized as his predatory growl, and once on the side of the dirt road they traveled, which she’d categorized as his “gone berserk” growl. She would forever remember both of those as frightening sounds that she never wanted to hear again. The low, soft growl coming from him now, however, was definitely different from the previous two…and it was about to earn itself a whole new category.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she retorted, as she looked into his fiery eyes.

“Thought you were in trouble," he said, and Marie felt as much as heard his words as his deep voice rumbled in his chest. The chest that was now bare. And wet. And absolutely gorgeous.

“It’s called holding your breath, Logan,” she replied indignantly. “You should try it sometime.”

“Think I’m already doin’ that, darlin’,” he said softly, his lips moving close to her ear. Marie felt her knees begin to give way as she felt his hot breath on her ear, and was suddenly glad that he was holding her so tightly.

“Christ, kid, you could kill a man like this,” Logan whispered, making her suddenly aware of just how naked she was.

Marie looked into his eyes again, and realized that she was staring right into the heat that she had been trying to escape all night. His hands were pressing against her lower back, bringing her pelvis flush with his. And through the thin material of his sweatpants, it became clear to her that aside from nine-inch claws, there was another weapon of considerable size that Logan was concealing.

Yep, this was going to be one hell of a long and torturous road trip.

“I-I’m fine Logan,” she stammered. “I’ve been on my own for a while…I know how to take care of myself.”

“Fair enough...” he replied, his voice like honey poured over gravel as his finger began to trace circles on the small of her back.

“But you should know that there are wild animals out here…” Again, his mouth was close to her ear. Marie shuddered as she felt the vibrations of his words travel through her body.

“…vicious, hungry animals…” Logan was slowly twirling her around in the water, his embrace still tight around her, but that was not why she was feeling dizzy.

“…animals that bite…” His hand had moved up and was now tracing circles on her bare shoulder.

“And with all of this skin exposed,” he continued, his breath warming and teasing the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder, “You just might provoke one of them into attack.”

Marie tried unsuccessfully to clear her mind of the Logan induced haze that was now falling over her.

“I figure I’m probably more of a danger to them than they are to me,” she replied softly, wiggling her fingers against his chest. Another soft growl came from his throat at the drum of her fingertips on him.

“What makes you so certain they’re afraid of your skin?” he said, cocking an eyebrow mischievously, the intense gaze from his hazel eyes growing darker by the second.

“Well maybe they should be afraid,” she said, stumbling over words that she prayed made sense, and thinking that Logan may very well have fried a synapse somewhere in her brain…maybe two. “Especially considering I might really have been drowning.”

She continued, seeing the unspoken question in his eyes.

“My skin…I can’t control it when I’m unconscious.” He was speechless this time, so Marie kept babbling, struggling for sanity under the intensity of his stare.

“…something to think about the next time one of those animals has it in their head to play hero,” she finished.

Her words did nothing to loosen his hold on her, and for a brief moment Marie wasn’t sure that she even wanted him to. His embrace was strong and warm and safe, and it had been a long time since Marie had felt strong, warm, and safe. It was the sound of a coyote howling in the distance that finally brought her back to reality.

“Logan?” The word was nearly a whisper.

“Yeah kid?” His lips were close to hers as he watched her eyes intently.

“You can let go now,” she said.

He was apparently also coming back to his senses, because he relaxed his hold on her and drifted slowly away from her, his eyes still locked on hers as he moved toward the riverbank and climbed out of the water. He turned his back to her as she stepped out after him and grabbed the towel she’d taken from their motel room, wrapping it around her before following him back to the room.

Once they were there, Marie headed for the bathroom to dry off and change back into the large white tee shirt that Logan had lent her for the night. After ten minutes, she emerged, all dry except for her hair, which clung to the back and shoulders of her makeshift pajamas.

She noticed that Logan had changed into a different pair of sweatpants, the wet ones hanging over the railing outside of their room. He lay ready for sleep, his head toward the foot of the bed. She crossed the room to her side of the bed and nearly tripped over a pillow on the floor. A very shredded, tattered pillow.

“Had a bad dream,” Logan grumbled as she bent down to pick it up. “Here, take mine.”

Logan pulled his pillow out from under his head and tossed it to her end of the bed. Marie had barely taken a seat on the edge of the bed when Logan suddenly shot up and crossed the room to the window, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Logan, what’s wro-"

“Sh-sh,” he cut her words off, cocking an ear to the door. He was hearing something, Marie could tell that much, but she wasn’t able to hear what had him on guard. “Stay here,” he said in a hushed voice, shooting a glance in her direction. Marie watched as he extended the claws of one hand and reached for the doorknob with the other.

Suddenly, the door was kicked in, hitting Logan and sending him reeling backward toward the bed. Marie screamed as two male figures, faces masked and dressed head to toe in black stormed into the room.

Marie scrambled across the bed, jumped off, and backed up toward the wall as Logan rose to his feet, the claws of both his hands unsheathed as he stood. Before he could get his bearings, one of the men raised a gun, pointed it at Logan, and shot a silenced bullet to his forehead.

“LOGAN!”

Marie shrieked and watched in horror as Logan reared back, stumbled, then crumpled into a heap on the floor, his heavy body making a loud crashing thump on the wooden planks. It was the only word she could manage in the shock of the scene before her. Her mouth hung open, eyes wide with fear as they darted between the now dead Logan and the two dark figures nearing her.

“That’s her,” one of the men said. Marie cowered against the wall as they approached, stepping over Logan’s lifeless body. A gloved hand reached out to grab her, then suddenly stopped at the sound of a voice behind him.

“You picked the wrong fuckin’ room, bub.”

Just when Marie had thought she couldn’t handle another shock, she saw Logan scrape to his feet behind the two men, the bullet still lodged in his forehead, blood trickling down the side of his face.

And he looked really, really pissed off.

No sooner had the two men turned to face him than he sank his fists into both of their midsections, growling ferociously as the adamantium tore into their flesh. Marie watched from behind as both men coughed and sputtered, Logan showing no mercy as he ripped his claws upward and twisted, delivering instant death to them both. Logan retracted his claws, stepping toward Marie as the bodies of the two men fell in a mangled, bloody heap to the floor.

“You alright?” he asked her in between panted breaths. Marie didn’t know how to respond to that. In the space of about two minutes, she had seen two men burst into the room, shoot Logan to death, or so she had thought…then she saw a dead Logan rise from the floor and shred said men into about a dozen pieces each. Oh yeah, she was all right.

“Kid, you alright?” Logan repeated, a little louder this time, trying to jog her out of her shock. Marie’s mouth remained open and speechless, her body growing faint as she watched the wound around the bullet in Logan’s head close up. She wanted to say something, but it was as though the message wasn’t getting from her brain to her lips. She simply watched in silence as the bullet popped out of Logan’s now completely healed forehead and fell to the floor with a soft clunk. Logan’s eyes followed hers to the flattened slug.

“Oh yeah….uh…that’s my insurance,' he said "I’ll explain later.” Logan rubbed his forehead in the spot where a bullet wound had been not moments before. “We gotta move. NOW.”

Logan pulled on his boots and grabbed his duffel bag as Marie scrambled to buckle her sandals. As soon as she had them on, Logan grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the door, her green waitress uniform and his wet sweatpants long forgotten in the aftermath of the current catastrophe.

Logan shuffled Marie out of the door, and she watched as he paused for a moment, hands going to his chest to rip off his dogtags. He tossed them onto the bed before closing the door and ushering Marie toward the jeep, the look in his eyes needing no explanation. Because the moment she saw Logan rid himself of those dogtags, Marie knew exactly what he didn’t want to say…

…they were both on the run now.


~*~

Chapter 5: The Shift Inside



“What did he offer you, Logan?”

It was a question he didn’t even want to think about, much less answer. In less than twenty-four hours, Logan had lost all but everything…his reward, his dream of retiring in peace, even his Wrangler, which he was forced to dispose of in the wake of their latest disaster. His trusty friend and only companion on the road now sat in a mass of twisted aluminum and chrome on the canyon floor hundreds of feet below them.

You have no idea.

Logan’s eyes remained fixed on the dancing flames and thick plumes of gray smoke emanating from the jeep’s rocky grave. It was not like it mattered at this point, anyhow. Any hopes that Logan may have harbored about somehow outwitting Magneto and finding some alternate means of earning his reward had officially gone the way of his gas-guzzling buddy.

There was only one reason that ol’ Buckethead had sent his men to retrieve Marie not a day after Logan had found her…the son of a bitch meant to screw Logan out of the rest of his compensation. And just as the dense billows of smoke beneath them rose and dissipated into the night, so had any hopes of reversing the current situation they were in. Logan and Marie’s fates were sealed the moment he removed those dogtags and took her on the run.

“Come on, you may as well tell me now,” she said from behind him, sounding as hopeless as he imagined he must have appeared to her. “What’s the going rate on my head? Five million? Ten?”

Logan clenched his jaw. “Three.”

“Oh…is that all I’m worth?” Marie snorted. This time, Logan did turn to look at the young woman seated on the stony earth of the canyon rim, her knees hugged to her chest as the flickering light from the campfire’s dying flames danced across her delicate features. Again, it was a question he didn’t want to answer. Because the more Marie pushed, the closer Logan came to abandoning altogether his idea of playing the martyr. He turned away again without replying.

“What are we gonna do?” she asked him after a long silence. That question was what finally snapped Logan out of his reverie.

“We?” he asked incredulously as he spun on his heels to face her once more. “WE?!” Marie shrank back a bit at the sharpness in his tone. “I’ll tell you what WE are gonna do,” he continued, walking toward where she was seated.

“When the sun comes up in a coupla hours, WE are gonna go our separate ways. WE are gonna hike over the hills in different directions toward somethin’ resemblin’ civil-FUCKIN’-ization, and then WE are never gonna lay eyes on one another EVER AGAIN!”

His words echoing and bouncing off of the canyon walls, Logan noted the surprise and hurt in the Marie’s eyes at the harshness of his tone and felt suddenly remorseful for the abrasive way in which his words came out. He hadn’t meant to scare her so much as he’d meant to warn her of his increasingly waffling resolve where sparing her from Magneto’s clutches was concerned. The incentive to do right by her was slowly dissolving within him…it was best that she simply beat it out of his sight. And soon.

Marie cautiously rose from where she was sitting and inched her way to the blanket that Logan had removed from the jeep and spread on the ground. Logan watched as she lay down on top of it, bunching his duffel bag up under her head to make a pillow and turning her back angrily toward him.

Logan stood there for a few moments, at a complete loss for words. He wanted to say that he was sorry for the harshness of his outburst…wanted to somehow make her understand that things were just best this way, for both of them. He couldn’t find the right words to say, however, so he quietly retreated to the large rock jutting out from the ground near their campsite. Once there, he took a seat and waited for the sun to roll its way up over the mountain range.

~*~*~

Marie awoke from a fitful sleep to the unmistakable coo of the mourning dove, the only sound piercing the silence of the new day. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and took a glance at her watch. 7:15 am. The first rays of sunlight were piercing through the mountains to the east.

The ground where she lay was hard and uncomfortable in spite of the thick blanket set down over it, and as a result her sleep had been shallow and uneasy. Her mind still hazy from slumber, she looked around for a moment before catching sight of Logan sitting on a large rock facing away from her, and quickly remembered the other reason for her turbulent rest.

She stood silently, pushing her hair out of her face, recalling the unnecessarily sharp jab of his words in the very early hours of the morning before she went to sleep. For a few moments, she stood there, tugging at the hem of his shirt, which she still wore, and watched him watch the sunrise. She knew that he had heard the crunch of her sandals on the pebbly ground, but he didn’t turn to face her. Deciding that she’d had enough of this brooding, silent behavior, Marie turned to leave.

“You runnin’ again, kid?”

Marie halted mid-step at the soft, gravelly words coming from Logan. She spun around to face him, her eyes narrowing in anger at the nerve of him. He was standing now, facing her, his arms folded solemnly across his bare chest.

“What did you expect?” she spat back at him. “You think I’m gonna stick around and deal with your moods? Think again.” Once more she turned to leave, and was a few steps away before he spoke again.

“Where you gonna go?” he asked, his voice remaining suspiciously calm in the face of her ire.

“As far the hell away from YOU as I can get!” she yelled as she continued to walk away from him.

“It’s a long walk back to civilization, kid…even longer if you don’t know where you’re goin’.”

“Oh, puh-lease!! I’d rather throw myself to the coyotes than spend another night with your PSYCHOTIC ASS!”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“FINE!”

"..."

“Marie?”

“What?!”

“I want my shirt back.”

That remark stopped her dead in her tracks. Certain that he must have been out of his mind, she circled around to face him, only to find that the look in his eyes was dead serious. And burning holes right through her.

“I beg your pardon?” she huffed, on the verge of throwing a tantrum of her own.

“You heard me,” he said, nodding his chin toward her. “Take it off.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” she said.

“Not one bit, darlin’," he said. "Strip.” Marie just continued to glare at him in disbelief.

“Look, go where you want, kid,” he continued, his voice still frighteningly tranquil. “But you’re not goin’ anywhere till I get my shirt.”

It appeared he truly wasn’t going to let her go until she removed one of the very few garments that she was wearing, so she decided to appease him…

…by removing her sandal and hurling it right at him.

Logan’s hand went up to shield his face from the projectile headed toward it. The sandal fell to the dirt at his feet, and he calmly bent down to pick it up.

“C’mere,” he said softly, crooking a finger in her direction. Marie stood her ground for a few moments before cautiously hobbling toward him. She came to stand in front of him, arms folded in hostility against her chest.

“Siddown,” He said, pointing to the large rock beside him. Marie eyed him suspiciously. “SIT,” he repeated, almost growling this time, and Marie finally lowered herself onto the rock. Logan stooped down in front of her, sandal in fist, and gently took her bare foot into his hand.

“Listen kid, like it or not you’re stuck with me,” he said gingerly, brushing the dust from the bottom of her foot with unexpected tenderness before unbuckling the sandal and slipping it on. “At least for the time being.” Logan looked up at her as his hand lingered for awhile, his thumb gently brushing the hollow of her ankle.

"Last night you said –"

“Forget what I said last night, alright?” He stumbled a bit before finding his next words. “I...I can be an asshole sometimes, y’know? Sometimes things don’t come out right. I didn’t mean for you to get the brunt end of it.”

“Is that your ass-backward way of saying you’re sorry?” she asked, the anger starting to leave her at his confession.

“Yeah..." he said, then looking up at her, "Yeah, I guess it is.”

At any other time, Marie may have taken his response as flippant, but there was a deeply earnest look in his eyes, one that she hadn’t yet seen. She’d seen him on the prowl, and she’d seen him on the attack, but the look in his eyes now was one of pure humility…and utter defenselessness. He looked like a man broken, and it was then that Marie came to a very important realization.

“It wasn’t just about the money, was it?” she asked him softly. Thinking to his behavior the previous night, it was becoming apparent to Marie that there had been much more at stake. And right now, Logan was clutching her ankle like it was the only thing left in his world.

“What did he offer you, Logan?”

Logan looked at her for a few moments before answering, and Marie knew instinctively that something had shifted inside of him over the night as he sat awake on that very rock. She also knew that whatever it was he’d so desperately been after, he had resolved to let it go. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally answered the question that he hadn’t wanted to answer before.

“The truth about my past.”

~*~

Chapter 6: Hello, Old Friend


“Find a color you like yet, darlin’?”

Logan heard the crunch of Marie’s sandals on the ground behind him as she surveyed the selection of motorcycles in the rear parking lot of Diego’s Beer & Billiards, which was the first building the pair had encountered after descending from the hills. Logan was holding their only witness silent and cooperative against the wall of the building as she considered her options, the loud beats from the salsa music inside having masked the sound of his body being slammed face first into the aluminum siding.

“Hmm…I kinda like this blue one.”

“Okay, blue it is.” Truth be told, Logan would have been happy with a three-legged goat if Marie had suggested it. Their hike through the mountains had been a long and hot one; early evening was upon them now, the sky turning a velvety shade of magenta as the sun started its slow dip below the horizon.

Logan reached into the back pocket of the quivering man in his grip and extracted his wallet. With one hand, he flipped through it, finally locating the man’s driver’s license and pulling it out. The leather billfold fell to the ground as Logan inspected the information typed on the card.

“You didn’t see us, right Enrique?” he snarled menacingly to the man. Enrique was taking a little too long to answer, so Logan gave him another firm slam to the wall. “Right, Enrique?” he asked again, his growl growing louder as his patience began to fade.

“Hey man, I didn’t see nuthin’.” he replied in broken English. “Nuthin’ at all.”

“Good,” Logan exclaimed with mock cheerfulness, turning the man to face him and sliding three claws toward his throat to emphasize his point. “`Cause the last thing you want is me showin’ up at your place for tea.”

The man literally gulped as Logan pocketed his identification.

“Logan, come on…let’s go.” A soft voice of reason came from behind, bringing an end to Logan’s testosterone trip. Darn…just when he was starting to have some fun, too.

Enrique had either walked to the pub that night or simply didn’t care about his vehicle at this point, because as soon as Logan let go of him he made a mad dash for the road, quickly disappearing out of sight. Logan turned and made his way toward Marie, who was now seated atop a blue Honda.

“Good choice,” he mused, removing the helmet from the bike’s handlebars and gently placing it on her head. “You look good on it.”

Logan caught her biting the corner of her lip at that last comment, suppressing a smile. After adjusting the strap of the helmet under her chin, he lifted his duffel bag from the ground and handed it to Marie, who placed her arms through the handles, securing it to her back. Logan swung a leg over the bike and took his seat in front of her.

“We don’t have a key,” she noted, snaking her slim, shapely arms under his powerful ones and hugging his midsection to her in preparation for the ride ahead of them.

“Oh yeah?” Logan popped the middle claw of his right hand and inserted it into the ignition. Seconds later, the engine was purring and the unlikely friends were pulling out onto the dirt road.

“Where are we going?” Marie yelled to him over the loud chop of the bike’s engine.

Lucky for them both, Logan had a plan – albeit a slim one – in mind. They were headed to a city a few hours from where they were now…a city where lived the only other person in the world who knew Logan’s name.

“Veracruz.”

And with that, a topless Logan and a bottomless Marie rode off into the sunset.

~*~*~

“Do you think he’s home?”

The question came quietly from Marie’s lips as she and Logan approached a beachfront villa in Veracruz four hours later. This villa, Logan had informed her, as well as the others on the beach of similar design were vacation units belonging to an acquaintance of his…and this particular acquaintance owed him a favor or two.

“Only one way to find out,” he replied as the pair made their way up the patio steps of the main villa. Marie leaned forward on the wooden railing of the patio. Looking out into the darkness, she couldn’t see the water of the Gulf, but heard its waves crashing to the shore. Logan approached the front door and pounded a fist on it.

“Who is it?” The muffled voice of an English speaking man was coming from inside the residence.

“Open up, Hector,” Logan yelled through the closed door. “It’s Logan.”

Marie walked to where Logan was standing and waited with him for a response. She heard nothing but silence for a few moments, then what she believed to be a quiet “Holy shit”. And after that, more silence.

“Prove it!” the man finally yelled from the other side of the closed entrance. Logan shot Marie an exasperated glance.

“Your mom’s a fuckin’ whore!” he yelled back.

Marie listened in amusement and looked at Logan as the unmistakable sounds of chair legs scraping on a wooden floor came from inside the villa. In seconds the latch was opened and a handsome young man with dirty blonde spiked hair and a goatee stepped out on the patio. The wife-beater that the medium built man wore revealed an impressive collection of tattoos on upper arms that were not quite as powerful as Logan's, but still deserving of their own attention. Marie watched with bated breath as the two men stood face to face on the patio, wondering what kind of reaction to expect

Then, without warning, Hector bent forward and rammed his head into Logan’s midsection, grabbing him around the waist as he stumbled backward and slammed into the railing. Marie jumped aside, hearing the loud crack of the wooden post as Logan’s body hit it. Logan growled as he grabbed Hector by the hair, pulled him up, and shoved him back into the villa.

Logan stormed inside after him, and Marie moved to the open doorway in time too see Hector jump up from the floor and give Logan a hard shove. Logan stumbled backward, a bit, then went after Hector again, eventually getting him into a headlock. Hector, struggling to get free, gave Logan a hard elbow in the stomach. Marie could see that this had caught Logan by surprise, but he recovered quickly and slammed Hector into the wall, his hand closing tightly around the younger man’s neck.

And then Marie saw something very strange happen.

Hector began laughing. And the corner of Logan’s mouth curled up into a smirk.

“Good to see you, man.” Hector said, breathing raggedly, bringing a hand up to give Logan a friendly slap on the cheek.

Marie continued to watch from the open doorway, not even trying to make sense of the strange welcoming ritual that had just taken place before her. It was as though her thoughts had been heard from across the room, because both men suddenly turned their heads in her direction.

His hand still around Hector’s throat, Logan introduced the man to Marie. Marie raised a tentative hand in greeting.

“We're gonna need a place to stay," Logan said, turning his head back to Hector. "And some help."

~*~

Chapter 7: The Ties That Bind


“Well darlin’, what do you think?”

Logan stood on the patio of their vacation villa, cigar in teeth, as Marie explored their temporary lodging. It was small, he could tell that much from the outside, but what it lacked in size it made up for in its quaint character, at least from what Logan could see through the front door from where he was standing.

The veranda of the white, terra cotta roofed villa was bordered by a white wooden railing, and was big enough to furnish two massive oak rocking chairs and a card table. The villa itself sat back a bit from the beach and the surrounding property was lined with palm trees, ensuring Logan and Marie’s total privacy.

Logan took a seat in one of the rocking chairs and slowly tottered back and forth. Chewing on the end of his cigar, he listened to the sound of Marie’s steps as they thudded softly on the wooden floors of the main room, then clicked on the terra cotta of the kitchenette. A few moments later, he heard the hinge of the bathroom door as it opened and then closed. Footsteps again on the wood planks. Then nothing.

“It’s…it’s…”

Logan got up and moved to the open doorway, leaning against the doorjamb. Marie was standing with her back toward him.

“Hey, if you prefer the road…” he started. Marie quickly spun to face him.

“No! I mean, it looks nice…cozy…” she said hurriedly, before she caught the expression on his face and realized that he was being facetious. Marie gave him a smile, the first smile he’d seen on her face since meeting her. He decided he liked the way it looked on her.

“…it looks perfect.”

Logan stepped into the main room and looked around. She was right…Hector had fixed them up well, from the look of things. There was only one room, split into a bedroom with one large bed and a kitchenette, but it was nonetheless charming and much roomier than the cheap motel room the pair had previously stayed in. Hector hadn’t hesitated to give Logan a key to the unoccupied villa and insisted that the two stay as long as they needed to.

As they stood there, the mouthwatering smell of barbecued food began to waft through the front door, and Logan knew that Marie was thinking the same thing he was.

“Guess we should eat somethin’ huh?”

~*~*~

Marie dipped her legs into hot water as she sat, naked, on the edge of the deep standalone bathtub. She had decided to take a nice soak in the tempting tub while she waited for Logan to return with food from the bar and grill on the other end of the beach. Apparently Hector owned the eatery as well, and Marie understood why Logan had never inquired about the source of Hector’s affluence. It was obvious from the looks of things that the means of his success had not exactly been on the up and up, but Logan seemed to trust the quick-witted charmer, and that was enough for her.

As she waited for the tub to fill, she wondered how the two knew each other. Hector appeared to be very much the anti-Logan. Chatty where Logan was silent, outgoing and animated where Logan was brooding and intense. Whatever the reason, the young man had somehow managed to endear himself to Logan, and from the way they greeted each other earlier it was clear that beneath the surface he matched her claw packing friend psychosis for psychosis.

Marie turned off the faucet and sank her naked body down into the tub. She dipped her head backward into the water, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of the hot water after her long day on the road with Logan. She closed her eyes and thought back over the events of the day.

Somewhere along their long hike, an uncanny peer bond had formed between her and the man who not two days earlier had been her captor. He had piggy-backed her through areas inhabited by venomous snakes, and she’d pulled her arms tight around his shoulders as he recounted to her the story of his past - or rather lack thereof. He had shown his appreciation for her concern by gently squeezing her thighs to him, but at no time along the way had he wavered in his decision to help her.

Marie lay almost completely submerged in the tub, wondering how it must have felt for him in that tank, unable to defend himself against the grafting of the admantium to his skeleton…a process made possible by a healing capability that Magneto knew nothing of.

Does it hurt when they come out? She had asked of his claws.

Yeah, he had replied. Every time.

It had occurred to her then, how much he was hurting; how much he was sacrificing…for her.

~*~*~

Later that night, after a particularly satisfying meal - their first in over a day - Logan sat beside Marie on their bed, leaning his head back against the headboard. They were both growing sleepy on account of their full bellies and the long day they had had. Clothed in another one of Logan’s shirts, Marie was quickly starting to fade. Logan slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward him, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder.

Logan wasn’t certain when he had made the shift from predator to protector, but that was exactly how things had ended up. It was also something more than that, though. The girl in his arms tugged at something inside of him, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. What he did know was that just as badly as he’d once wanted to capture her, he now wanted to keep her safe, to make sure nothing happened to her. And that night at the bar and grill, Hector had told him of a way.

“There’s a place Hector told me about. In Westchester, New York.”

Marie raised her head to look at him, and he continued.

“Some sorta safe haven…a school. For the 'gifted'. He seems to think you’d be safe there.”

“Oh…” she replied, her eyes lowering in thought. “How would I get there?”

“Hector can get you a passport and a train ticket. I already gave him your picture. And some cash.”

“Is Hector a mutant too?” she asked.

“Nah, but he’s someone we can trust, and that’s a rare thing…” he replied, tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. “…for people like us.”

Marie looked somewhat relieved that she had somewhere to go, but there was a slight flicker of disappointment somewhere in her deep brown eyes. And though he couldn’t quite understand it, he could relate, because he felt it himself. He was starting to actually enjoy the company…soon he would be alone again. He quickly stuffed that feeling down, though. Above all, he wanted to protect her.

Especially from himself.

“Might take a week or two…” he said softly, seeing that flash of sadness fade a little, but not completely.

“Think you can stand me for that long?”

He watched as that gorgeous smile started to draw at the corners of her mouth for the second time that night.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Yeah, I think I can.”

With that, the two laid down. Logan reached over to the bedside table and clicked the lamp off before curling an arm protectively around Marie’s waist and pulling her into him as they drifted off to sleep.

~*~*~

The nightmares were easier to deal with. Much, much easier to deal with.

When Logan opened his eyes early the next morning, he was not waking from one of those unimaginable nightmares…no, now there was an entirely different dream haunting him. One that involved the incredibly sexy and irresistible smelling woman in his arms…

…whose soft breast he’d woken to find squeezed in his hand, and whose luscious backside was pressing firmly against his painful morning erection…

Christ.

A pained groan escaped his lips and he buried his face in her hair so as not to wake her with the sound. That just made matters worse. Because her hair smelled like apples. Which made her…edible. Logan’s eyes sqeezed shut, and his cock grew larger and more painful at the thought of licking and biting her all over…making her whimper his name…

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

Her pert breast was a perfect fit in his large hand, just as he had expected when he saw her naked in the river, and just as he had dreamed…which was probably why he was having so much trouble removing it right now. To top it all off, she was wearing his shirt and smelled like her and him mixed together. She smelled like she was his…the way he imagined they’d both smell after he flipped her onto her back, spread those unbelievable legs of hers, and…

Logan cursed his thoughts and bit down on his lower lip as he struggled against the animal within him. The Wolverine fought back just as hard, screaming all sorts of reasons at him as to why he should take her now, hard and fast on that very bed…claim the alluring young woman in his arms as his.

Just as he thought he had the Wolverine tamed, he remembered that she hadn’t had any clean underwear to put on after her bath last night…

…which meant that she wasn’t wearing any right now.

“Fuck…” he groaned into her hair, his eyes rolling back as the pungent scent of her sex followed his lascivious thoughts. With everything in him, he wanted to let go of her breast…but when he tried, he only ended up mashing it harder into his hand.

He felt her nipple through the shirt as it suddenly hardened in his palm and his hips involuntarily bucked forward, grounding into her soft buttocks. The friction caused by the shirt she was wearing and the thin material of his sweatpants nearly caused him to explode right then and there.

Thinking to himself that she wouldn’t be too happy waking up to find the back of her shirt soaked and sticky, Logan decided it was time to get out of bed. As he shifted, Marie cooed softly, and snuggled back against him. Jesus, he really needed to bite down on something right now, but the only thing within reach of his mouth was the soft, exposed skin of her neck.

He was close to tears as he finally removed his hand from her breast and moved it to her hip in an effort to stop the wiggling movement she was making as she burrowed back into him…

…instead he ended up digging his fingers into her hip and giving her clothed ass a good, hard slide down the burning length of his erection.

“Logan?…” she murmured sleepily at the contact.

Logan leapt out of bed then, knowing that any more of this, and she was going to be getting a very rude awakening. He looked down at Marie, holding his breath as she turned onto her stomach and continued sleeping. Satisfied that she wasn’t going to wake up, Logan rushed toward the bathroom, closed the door, and freed his large cock from his pants.

Shit, he couldn’t do this…not with the girl in the next fuckin’ room, for cryin’ out loud. He leaned back against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, trying to shift his thoughts from seeing her naked in the river. When that didn’t work, he reached over to the sink and turned the faucet on full blast to mask his strangled groans.

“Queen Elizabeth naked…” he mumbled to himself, still trying to stuff down the wave of desire in his pelvis as his cock twitched and grew in his fist. Beads of sweat were starting to pop out on his brow.

Naked Marie in the river…

“…Roseanne Barr...unghh...in a thong…” he fought back, as he slowly stroked his cock.

..all wet…and ready…

“…Prince Charles…naked…rrgghhh...on a horse…” the words were pushed out through gritted teeth.

...perfect breasts…perfect ass…

His breath was coming in ragged pants now as he stepped toward the toilet and slammed the lid upward. He was now naked as he stood over it, except for the sweatpants bunched around his ankles. Every muscle in his body tensed as he pumped his massive erection in his closed fist.

...she’s not wearin’ any fuckin’ panties…

“…Jean…FUCKIN’…CHRETIEN!” he panted loudly as he finally lost the fight and tumbled over into the abyss. The waves of his orgasm crashed down over him as he gave his cock a final pump, then a squeeze, and spilled what felt like a gallon of his seed into the open toilet before him. He panted heavily as the aftershocks of his quaking release ran their course. Opening his eyes, he ran a hand through his hair as the waves subsided, bringing him back to reality.

“Logan…are you alright?”

Logan nearly jumped at the sound of Marie’s voice coming from the other side of the closed door.

“Uh…yeah darlin…I’m fine,” he answered after a few moments, then cursed himself silently for the hoarse break in his voice that he knew she must have heard. He flushed the toilet and pulled his pants up, then walked to the door and ripped it open.

A sleepy and completely unaware Marie stood before him, a questioning look in her eyes at his flushed appearance. He said only one thing to her after giving her a quick once over.

“We gotta get you some clothes.”

~*~

Chapter 8: Mr. and Mrs. Logan



Marie stepped out onto the sunny veranda where a very curious Logan had been breathing in the warm salt air of the Mexican Gulf, waiting for her to emerge. When she did, sharp hazel eyes were ready to greet her, skating appreciatively over her body as she showcased one of the long, billowy sundresses that he had returned with earlier that afternoon.

The man knew how to choose a dress size, Marie had to give him that; and he also had a good eye for what colors and styles would suit her best. The one she wore now was a flattering shade of pink; the feather light material and halter-top style ensured that she would not suffer in the near intolerable heat that was currently waving over the region.

The wooden soles of her new mules tapped on the planks of the veranda as she stepped toward him, then stopped when he raised a hand. He twirled an index finger slowly in the air, indicating for her to turn around, and she obeyed silently, allowing him a full assessment of her new attire. When she faced him again, he was leaning back against the railing, arms folded across his chest, clearly satisfied with his purchase.

“Everything fit perfectly,” she finally said, answering his unasked question and cutting into an unabashed gaze that she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to interrupt. Logan’s eyes snapped up to meet hers and he cocked an eyebrow in obvious curiosity.

“Everything?” he asked, the corner of his lip turning up a little. Marie felt a warm blush creep over her face and body as she registered that he was referring to the sundry undergarments he’d bought her.

“Everything,” she returned timidly. She hadn’t yet tried on the swimsuit, but he seemed to have a good handle on her size, so she was certain it would fit just fine.

“Wasn’t sure if all that flowery stuff was your thing,” he teased, apparently amused at her bashfulness, especially given that he’d already seen her naked.

Her blush deepened a bit under his gaze, then immediately began to fade as her mind hitched onto a comical image of the Big Bad Wolverine sifting through a bin full of ladies’ underwear. She bit back her own amused smile at the visual.

She looked at Logan, then – really looked at him – and lost the fight, letting out a small giggle.

“What?” he frowned, the smug expression dropping from his face as he raised his arms to his sides and looked down at his own outfit. “Not my style?”

Logan grumbled a bit at Marie’s snickering, but he didn’t scare her one bit.

Marie’s laugh subsided a little as she took in his outfit, noting to herself that pretty much everything was Logan’s style. The man looked like smoldering sex no matter what he wore, really…and this occasion was no exception. She offered an appreciative glance of her own as her eyes swam over the white pants…the tropical print shirt, worn open and over a wife-beater…the beige fedora with a brown band sitting atop his head.

“It’s just…well…I guess if you’re trying to ‘blend in’, that would certainly do it.”

Logan gave her a small smile, then his expression turned serious again as he remembered something in his shirt pocket. He reached out to take her left hand and pulled her gently toward him.

“If anyone comes sniffin’ around, we’re married,” he said, slipping a plain gold band onto her ring finger. Marie wiggled her fingers, watching how the sunlight glinted off of the metal.

“And that would make us Mr. and Mrs…” she started, confused as to how they should refer to themselves. Logan seemed stuck on that one for a moment.

“…uh…Logan, I guess,” he answered, brows furrowed.

“Mr. and Mrs….Logan?” Marie asked bemusedly.

“Yeah.” he replied. Hazel eyes moved up to her face again, searching her features for a few moments, and Marie sensed that he felt something was still out of place.

“What is it, Logan?” she asked him. Marie watched as the expression on Logan’s face slowly turned to realization.

“There's somethin’ else we should do while we're here,” he said.

~*~*~

Logan could have only imagined what someone would have thought had they been able to hear his and Marie’s hushed voices inside of the dimly lit villa that evening.

“Logan, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I know what I’m doin’. Hold still.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to put it all in.”

“Stop sassin’ me and hold still.”

“Ow!!”

“Oh, sorry. Pulled a little hard there, huh?”

“Um…yeah. Logan, have you done this before?”

“Course, darlin’. You’re talkin’ to the expert here.”

“Oh really? How many times have you done it?”

“Hmm? Oh…I dunno. Twice. Three times, maybe.”

“And that makes you an expert?”

“Well, actually…hold still, Marie. Stuff’ll sting like a bitch if it gets in your eye.”

“Are you supposed to be rubbing that hard?”

“Gotta make sure I get it all in. Thought I just told you I’ve done this before.”

“Yeah? On who?”

“Well, uh…had to do it on myself a few times.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…and once on Hector. Never done it on a woman, though.”

“God, that stuff stinks.”

“Don’t gotta tell me, darlin’.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to leave it in for so long.”

“How long’s it been in?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah, you’re right, that’s probably long enough. C’mere. Bend over.”

“Like that?”

“Yeah…uh, no. A little lower.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect.”

“Ooh, that feels nice.”

“Yeah, thought you might like that.”

“Mmm-hmmm….”

"..."

“Okay, we’re done.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all there is to it, darlin’. Told you I know what I’m doin’. Come over here and take a look.”

Logan wrapped a towel around Marie’s head, stood her up from where she’d been kneeling in front of the bathtub, and pulled her toward the vanity mirror. He moved behind her as she faced the mirror and removed the towel from her head.

Wet brown hair fell down over her shoulders, that telltale white streak that once defined her look now gone. Logan picked up the empty hair dye package from beside the sink and looked at it, noting that he had picked the perfect shade.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, catching her gaze in the mirror. “Should I quit my day job and open up a salon?”

Marie stood in front of the mirror, taking in her image and slowly moving her hand up to where the white streak had been. Logan noticed the solemn expression on her face as she adjusted to her new look.

“What is it, darlin’?” he asked delicately. Marie met his eyes in the mirror for a moment before she silently turned and walked back into the main room of the villa.

Logan watched her from the doorway of the bathroom as she slowly sank to her knees on the floor, sitting back on her heels and cupping her hands over her face. Her body began to shake and Logan realized that she was crying. He walked toward where she was and knelt down behind her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, between sobs. “It’s just…seems like it’s been so long since I saw myself…like that.”

It was the second time that Marie had cried in his presence, and to say that Logan didn’t like it would have been an understatement. He moved closer behind her and wrapped her into his chest, holding her as she shook and thinking of all the disgusting things that Magneto must have done to her. He didn’t know how to comfort her…only knew that he would have done anything to be able to take on some of that pain himself, carry it for her.

The following week, he found a way to do just that.

~*~

Chapter 9: A Rock and a Hard Place


“Fuck me, already.”

Hector threw his cards down on the table in frustration before gathering them up again to give the deck a shuffle.

“Dude, you’ve won every goddamn hand in the last half hour. You cheating, or what?”

Logan removed the cigar from his lips and absently flicked the ash from the tip, looking up at the beautiful woman sitting in his lap and giving her a quick wink. Marie giggled in response. Logan had come to adore how that giggle sounded, floating off into the late night breeze as she sat with him in one of the large rocking chairs on the veranda, watching him and Hector play poker.

She also proved to be quite the sport, knocking back her fair share of tequila shots and learning quickly about the different poker hands. To keep her involved in the game, Logan sometimes whispered in her ear, asking her advice on which cards to keep and which ones to drop. She usually couldn’t help a little blush at the tickle of his whiskers on her cheek, so he made sure to do it as often as possible.

“Quit your cryin’ and deal, Hector,” Logan shot back across the table, gently rocking the chair he and Marie shared.

The Veracruz nights had been just as hot as the days were; Marie and Logan typically found themselves either having a drink over at the bar and grill or sitting under the dim lantern of the veranda, as they were tonight, entertained by Hector’s incessant chatter.

This was one time that Logan didn’t much mind Hector’s motor mouth, as it gave him a chance to turn his attention to Marie every now and then; to whisper something in her ear that would make her laugh, or to give her thigh an affectionate squeeze to let her know he was still there with her. He sensed that she appreciated that…she felt safe with Logan, so he always made a point of keeping her close to him.

Of the nights that Logan and Marie spent in that rocking chair after Hector left, listening to the violent crash of the waves on the shore, they spoke of a lot of things. There was one thing that they never spoke of, though, and that was of Marie leaving for Westchester.

They both knew that the day was quickly arriving; a week had passed already, which meant that any day now, they would be receiving a package with a passport and a one-way ticket to Westchester, New York…then Marie would be on her way. They never spoke of it, though. On this particular night, as a matter of fact, they spoke of nothing, because by the time Hector left, Marie had already dozed off on Logan’s shoulder.

Logan pulled gently at Marie’s hair where her white streak once was, watching her as she slept. He thought about scooping her up and taking her inside to bed, but changed his mind when he realized how peaceful she looked, and instead decided to stay where he was, rocking her slowly back and forth.

Over the last few days, Logan had finally put his finger on what it was about Marie that tugged at him. It was more than just the way she laughed, and it was more that just the way her skin smelled like fresh clover and her hair like apples.

It was that she looked and felt and smelled like…home.

Logan had never known what home looked or felt or smelled like before her…only knew that she was it, and the more the realization dawned on him, the greater the sadness that fell over him. Because she would be leaving soon, and though deep down he didn’t want her to go, he knew that she was safest in New York.

Trouble had a way of finding Logan…they could only hide out here for so long before he would have to pop the claws, and then their cover would be blown. For Marie, a life with Logan would mean a life on the run. And no matter where they ran, Logan would leave a trail of dead bodies behind them, eventually leading Magneto right to her.

Logan felt his claws begin to inch out from between his knuckles at the thought of that sick fuck putting his hands on Marie, and noted to himself that he was going to have to carry out one final assignment before retiring.

For now, though, he simply rocked Marie back and forth as she slept, breathing in the apples of her hair and the clover of her skin.

~*~*~

When Marie awoke a few hours later, it was to the sound of waves, the gentle back and forth motion of a rocking chair, and the soft nuzzle of Logan’s face in her hair.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he whispered as she looked up to meet his intense gaze.

Marie’s sleepy eyes widened a bit, and Logan knew she had felt the beginnings of a bulge in his pants pressing against the underside of her thigh. Logan cleared his throat softly as his desire for the woman in his arms grew increasingly apparent. They were breathing the same breath it seemed, his lips were so close to hers, dizzying them both as Logan continued to rock the chair slowly to and fro.

“Darlin’…” he pleaded softly, his face moving to nuzzle back into her hair as his hands moved to her hips. Marie sensed that he meant to shift her off of his growing erection before things spun wildly out of control, and she stopped him.

“Logan…you don’t have to…”

Logan’s face moved back to hers, catching her eyes again, and a soft growl escaped his lips as she placed her fingers on his chest. Hazel eyes burned into her brown ones as he searched them for understanding.

“I trust you.” she whispered.

Logan felt his cock twitch, growing even larger at her words, and understood what flashed in her eyes; understood what she was asking of him. It wasn’t the first time she had felt his want for her as they sat together in that very rocking chair, nor was she clueless to what he had been doing in the bathroom every morning since they had arrived in Veracruz.

“Marie…” His hand came up to the back of her head, gently tugging at her hair as her eyes pleaded with him.

“It would only be for tonight…” she said softly into his lips, her warm breath on him causing an even greater stir in his desire for her.

“No it wouldn’t...” he replied, just as softly, and he knew that she knew what he was saying. “And I just couldn’t take it, darlin’, if…” his words trailed off then.

“Do you understand what I’m sayin’ to you Marie?”

His eyes were searching hers now, pleading with her to understand something that he wasn’t able to put into words. Still, Marie needed something, he knew that. Knew all too well the look in her eyes as she reached out for the one thing that was, in the face of all uncertainty, good and pure and true…when it was wanted. She needed to come alive again, to feel a man’s touch as it should feel when it was desired.

Something she had never felt before.

Marie said nothing as she slowly rose from his lap and stood before him. Logan felt his breath catch in his throat as she reached for the hem of her sheer sundress, slowly pulling it up and over her head. She cast the dress aside and her long, thick hair cascaded down over her shoulders as she stood in the scorching heat of Logan’s stare, her underwear now the only barrier between them.

God, but she was beautiful.

Logan’s pants just about burst at the seams at the sight of her, so unbelievably hard was his cock as he drank in every curve and every sinew of Marie’s body under the dim light of the lantern hanging above them. Her eyes were full of want, full of desire, and Logan feared he would have drowned had he not torn his gaze away from them to relish the sight of her flawless breasts.

Any shred of control that Logan may have been holding onto snapped with her first step toward him. His basest primal instinct kicked in as he took her hips in his hands, roughly spinning her around and yanking her back down into his lap.

Marie sat squarely on his burgeoning erection now, and he choked out a groan as he buried his face in her hair, holding her hips in his strong hands and grinding that irresistible ass of hers hard on his covered cock. She moaned softly at the sudden contact of his hardness on her buttocks and then his hands were moving upward, squeezing and mashing her bare breasts together as he rocked the chair backward, pulling her back into his broad chest.

A low, rumbling growl began to churn deep in his chest as his hands, at once rough with want and gentle with love, moved down to coax her thighs apart and splay them open over his knees. He absently heard the clunk of her mules hitting the wooden planks of the veranda, one after the other, as he spread her wide, and nearly came in his pants as the thick, undeniable fragrance of her desire for him permeated the humid night air.

“Jesus Marie, you smell so fuckin’ good right now,” he rumbled into her ear before peppering her neck with soft kisses and moving a hand to the junction between her open thighs. He nearly lost all sanity when the crotch of her panties dampened immediately under his touch, and couldn’t help a growl of animal possessiveness when he remembered that he had bought her those panties.

“Oh…Logan…”

The words came from Marie’s lips in a low, guttural moan as Logan rubbed his thumb over her sensitive nubbin. She moaned loudly under his ministrations and threw her head back, her hair spilling over his shoulder as she mewed against him.

Logan tipped the chair forward again, holding her tight and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of her exposed neck. Marie slid forward a bit in his lap, buckling under all of the new sensations flooding her body. Cupping his hand over her covered mound, Logan used the leverage to pull her back into him, settling her ass back down onto his scorching hardon.

He rocked the chair backward again, staying there for a bit as he ground the heel of his palm against the engorged bundle of nerves at her center. He dug the fingers of his other hand into the soft flesh of her hip and encouraged her undulations as she rubbed against his unsheathed cock.

“Fuck, Marie…” he groaned, his voice hoarse with desperation and desire as he slipped a hand under the material of her panties and buried one finger, then two, deep inside of her wet core. He was losing his mind now, what with the intoxicating scent and feel of her readiness, and the contracting of her tight inner muscles around his fingers, and the slick crotch of her panties sliding against the back of his hand, and…

Christ, it would have been so easy to just shred those cute little panties right off, take his painful hardon out of his pants and impale her on it…

…but he didn’t, knowing that once he took her, he would want her as his…forever.

“Oh my God, Logan!”

The chair rocked forward and then back again, and Marie gasped loudly at the sensation of Logan’s thick fingers moving deep inside of her and the simultaneous pressing of his thumb on her most sensitive bit. Logan’s hips bucked upward and into her backside and he growled loudly in her ear at the sound of his name being screamed from those beautiful pink lips. He was damn near ready to explode.

His teeth bit down hard on his lower lip as he fought the uncontrollable urge to bury his hardness deep within her. Rocking the chair forward again, Logan removed his fingers from inside of her. Marie whimpered in protest.

“It’s okay, baby, just wanna turn you around,” he rasped, sliding her from his lap and spinning her around to face him before grabbing an ass cheek in each hand and pulling her down again to straddle his hips.

The chair rocked backward again, bringing her crotch into contact with his as they ground into each other. His hand came up to squeeze one of those perfect breasts and he rocked forward, taking it into his mouth and assaulting the hardened nipple with his warm tongue.

“Oh God yes, Logan…”

Logan’s mouth moved to her other breast, sucking and licking greedily at the engorged nipple as he groaned against it. Marie cooed softly as he took hold of her hips, guiding her rhythmic movements against him. His grip on her pelvis tightened then, and she jumped a little at the sound of adamantium ripping out from between his knuckles.

“Sorry…I’m sorry baby,” he rasped, sheathing his claws and comforting her as he noted the surprised look in her eyes.

“Just thought about that fucker puttin’ his dirty hands all over you. I didn’t mean to… ” Logan’s words trailed off and he prayed he hadn’t frightened her.

“I’m not afraid of you, Logan,” she interrupted, her voice soft and trusting.

Logan looked into her eyes, and knew that she was telling the truth, and his cock strained even harder against her. No one had ever said that to him before, and hearing it come from her lips made him burst with the need to claim her. One hand came up to bury itself in her hair and he pulled her down into him, pressing her face into his shoulder as his other hand slipped past her panties again.

“It can be so good, baby…” he whispered in her ear between soft kisses. Her teeth were sinking hard into his shoulder as his fingers moved deep inside her once more, his thumb flicking at the engorged pebble of flesh down there.

“…so good when it’s wanted…”

She was crying out against his shoulder now, her hips taking on a wild rhythm of her own, as the chair rocked beneath them. Logan knew from the change in her scent and the quickening of her pulse in his ear that she was nearing a release she had never before experienced.

“…so good, Marie, when it’s with someone you –"

Logan didn’t finish the sentence, but Marie knew what he wouldn’t say, because she looked up at him again, lust-filled eyes meeting his hazel gaze. He couldn’t resist a kiss now…not with her lips so close to his, breathing the same ragged breath he was breathing.

Logan crushed Marie to him, his hands buried in her thick hair as he brought her lips to descend on his. Marie moaned into his mouth as his tongue parted her lips, exploring her hungrily, his lusty growls swallowed by her as he expressed his deepest need for her.

It wasn’t long before he felt the clamping down of her inner muscles around his fingers and knew that she was on the verge of something she wouldn’t yet understand. Her breath came in pants as her fingers clutched at his chest.

“It’s okay baby, I got you,” he said softly, pulling her face down to his shoulder again, hearing her guttural groans and feeling her teeth sink into his shoulder once again.

“Mmph…Logan…”

“…you just bite down as hard as you need to, darlin’,” he whispered, his own breathing growing ragged, comforting her as she careened over the edge.

“Oh, fuck….LOGAN…”

“That’s it, baby. Let go…let go for me.”

Marie mumbled something incoherent against him and then the first waves of her orgasm were crashing down around her, shaking her violently as her hips bucked against Logan’s hand. A wave of animal pride swept over Logan as he drew her release from her. He scraped for control as he felt her inner muscles wind up and then his hand was flooded with her warm wetness as she contracted and released around his fingers. He held her close as she rode the waves down from her quake.

“Oh my God, Logan…” she whispered, looking up at him. “What…?”

“Pretty intense, huh?” he whispered between panted breaths, sweat forming on his brow as he looked into her eyes. His hands moved back to her hips, his cock straining insistently against her at the look of lust and satisfaction on her face.

Logan saw realization and awe in Marie’s eyes, and she must have noticed the pained expression on his face, because all of a sudden her hands were on him, grabbing at his belt, apparently determined to give him the same pleasure he’d given her.

“No! Darlin’, you can’t...rrgghhh..."

He tried to tell her not to, tried to tell her that he didn’t have that kind of control right now, but he was beyond being able to say anything coherent when she ripped his pants open, took his cock out and wrapped her delicate fingers around his hard length.

“Jesus, Marie!”

Logan had already been skating on the edge, and now with the feel of her fingers on him, squeezing him, he lost it completely. The chair tipped back as he bucked his hips upward, and before he could stop the avalanche, his eyes were rolling back and he was spilling everything he had onto her, burying his strangled grunts and groans into her hair.

Coming down from his own quake, Logan pulled Marie into his arms, still shaking from the intensity of what had just happened between them, and hurting all the more that he couldn’t keep her as his forever.

“It’s okay Logan,” she said softly, as though she had been able to hear his thoughts, understand what was going on inside of him. He brought her face up to look into his eyes as she continued.

“I know this was only for tonight,” she said, and there was that distant flash of pain again, that look of sadness deep inside.

Logan said nothing in response…simply crushed her to him again, holding her as they remained on the porch, slowly rocking back and forth together, and the sound of the waves on the beach began their soft lullaby.

The next day, just as they had expected, a package arrived containing a passport and a one-way ticket to Westchester.

~*~

Chapter 10: When it Rains it Pours


The rain was overdue. The few days before had been heavy and thick with humidity, and the Veracruz skies seemed weighed down with tears that had yet to be cried. When the storm finally arrived that morning, the rain came down in torrents, waking Logan with the plunking melody of its powerful raindrops on the roof of the villa and the scraping and tapping of palm branches on the windows.

Logan slipped quietly out of bed, where he’d been laying next to a sleeping Marie, and opened the front door, stepping out onto the veranda to watch the downpour as the tempest ripped across the beach. He needed to run an errand in town before Marie left, but it would have to wait until the storm let up a little. He took a seat on the railing, one foot up on the wooden beam as he leaned back against the post, and noted to himself how the violent tropical storm seemed to mimic precisely the storm that raged inside of him.

They hadn’t spoken of what happened the night before. Instead, Logan had simply held Marie close to him in the rocking chair until she had fallen asleep again, and then he scooped her up and took her inside to bed. She seemed to have slept relatively well, which was more than he could say for himself. His own rest had been fitful and shallow; it almost felt as though he’d awoken the rainstorm instead of things being the other way around.

Marie leaving was a good thing…at least that was what he kept telling himself. Hector seemed genuine in his claim that this Charles Xavier character could help Marie, give her a home and maybe even help her get her high school diploma. God knew she needed to feel safe, to have that sense of belonging and security. She deserved the chance to be young again, to know what life was when it wasn’t spent running from one thing or running toward another. As much as he’d come to care for the young woman sleeping inside, Logan knew he couldn’t stand in the way of that.

Logan remained under the shelter of the veranda’s awning for another hour, after which the rain had reduced to a few drops here and there on the aluminum above him. The weather in Mexico could be erratic and unpredictable at times, so Logan wasn’t too surprised to see the sun starting to peek through the gray clouds not long after that.

Going back inside, Logan quickly changed his clothes and took a lingering glance at the sleeping woman in his bed before heading out again, this time into the warm morning sun.

~*~*~

Prepared though he may have been for Marie’s inevitable departure, Logan still could not help but feel a small twist inside when he returned to the villa that afternoon and found Marie standing in front of the kitchenette counter, brown paper package in hand.

“Hector stopped by this morning,” she said wistfully, and there was a faint smile on her lips but not in her eyes as she held the package up for Logan to see. It wasn’t as though he should have been surprised. They had both known something would be arriving for her any day. Now that the day was actually here though, reality was quickly beginning to set in for them both.

She was leaving.

Logan said nothing in reply, only crossed the room slowly, coming to stand before Marie as he gently took the package from her hands and emptied its contents onto the linoleum. Out spilled an American passport, a train ticket, a map of New York, and directions to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

Logan met Marie’s eyes across the counter for a few brief moments before lifting the ticket off of the countertop to inspect the information typed on it. It was an open pass, valid for any trip departing that day. There was a station about twenty miles from where they were now, and according to the schedule printed on the reverse, the last train would be departing at eleven o’clock that night.

“He did a pretty good job with the photo,” Marie said softly, this time not even making another attempt at the smile that had failed the first time around. “Y’know…considering.”

Logan gave her a small nod in response, and Marie looked back down to the contents splayed on the counter.

“Come outside for a sec,” Logan said, after a few moments of silence. “Got somethin’ I wanna show you.”

Marie followed Logan outside, the sun now out in full force and scorching at their shoulders as they made their way around the porch to the back of the property. Parked on the ground behind the villa was a shiny green Vespa.

“Can you ride one of these things?” Logan asked, nodding toward it.

“Yeah, I had to ride one to make deliveries for the diner,” she replied.

“Good.” Logan said, taking her hand, uncurling her fingers and dropping a set of keys into her palm. “It’s yours.”

Marie looked up at Logan, and he knew that she was both surprised and touched at the gesture. It had been generally assumed that she would be leaving for the station on her own, but they hadn’t discussed how she was going to get there. Now they had one less thing to worry about, and she could take her new transportation on the train with her.

“Thank you, Logan.” she said quietly. “For everything.”

“Don’t gotta thank me, darlin’.” he said, brushing the back of her hand with his thumb for a moment before releasing it.

“So…I guess this is it, huh?” she asked. Logan had never before felt so torn to answer with either a yes or a no for the implications inherent in both.

“I’ll write.” he responded, catching her gaze. Again Marie tried to smile, and again, the smile didn’t quite make it to her eyes.

“No you won’t.” she returned solemnly, and they both knew she was right. There was no way Logan would risk sending her anything that could possibly tip someone off on her whereabouts.

Marie shifted a bit, smoothing the material of her sundress, and Logan placed his hands in his back pockets as they both stood there, not quite knowing what to say. As it turned out they didn’t need to come up with anything, because the silence was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps on the wooden veranda, nearing the back of the property, where they stood.

Logan immediately went into alert mode, grabbing Marie’s wrist and yanking her to him, eliciting a surprised gasp from her as he raised a finger to his lips in direction for her to stay silent. Logan slowly backed them both toward the outside wall of the villa, one arm held tight around her waist and the claws of his other hand unsheathed as he prepared to deal with their intruder. Marie buried her face in Logan’s chest as the footsteps approached and turned the corner.

“WHOA! Chill the fuck out dude!!”

Marie looked up just in time to see a surprised Hector standing before them with nine inches of gleaming metal grazing his jawbone. Logan hissed out a sigh, relieved that he hadn’t acted too quickly and diced his friend into a million tiny cubes.

“If I wanted a shave, I’d ask for one…shit!” Hector placed a shaky finger on the dull edge of Logan’s claw and cautiously lowered it from his throat. Marie laughed nervously against Logan, still not quite down from the shock.

“What’s up, Hec?” Logan asked, putting his claws away as the adrenaline gradually drained from his body.

“Just wanted to know if you guys are coming to the bar for dinner,” Hector said, hands held up in defense. This time, Logan couldn’t help a hoarse chuckle at Hector’s frightened expression.

“Whaddya say, dollface?” Hector asked, nodding in Marie’s direction. “One last meal before you hit the road?”

Logan looked down at Marie, who gave him a ‘why not’ shrug. She would still have enough time to eat and maybe have a drink or two before she took off…and besides, it was probably best that she wait until after dark to leave.

“Okay,” Logan answered gruffly, after getting Marie’s silent approval. “We’ll see you there.”

~*~*~

“I’ll have another beer.” Logan gave his order to the waitress, who promptly returned to the bar to fetch their second round of after dinner drinks.

They were a foursome tonight, Hector having invited one of his many lady friends to join them. The bar and grill was busy, just as it had been every night since Logan and Marie arrived looking for somewhere to stay. They had decided on a patio table for dinner - not so much for the reason that the interior of the bar and grill was packed as for the fact that it was another one of those unbearably hot nights.

Marie twirled the tiny umbrella in her cocktail, taking in for the last time the colored patio lights illuminating the darkness and the loud beats of music droning out from the outdoor speakers. The dance floor inside was crowded, and a number of patrons had spilled out onto the large patio to dance and mingle.

Marie was surprised to find that Hector wasn’t among the many dancing and mingling tonight. He could usually be seen floating from table to table, chatting it up with his many patrons, almost all of whom he seemed to know personally. Tonight, though, he seemed content to stay in one spot with one of his tattooed arms slung around Esmeralda, the young Mexican lady who served as his date.

The woman couldn’t speak English, but Hector could speak Spanish, so what little she had to inject into the conversation Hector was happy to translate. He hadn’t divulged too much information about his guests, however; as far as she was concerned, they were simply Señor and Señora Logan.

The waitress returned with Logan’s drink, and he looked to Marie, giving her a wink before taking a hearty swig from the bottle. Marie gave him a smile at that, and knew it was one of the things she would miss about him when she went on her way. Esmeralda caught the wink and the smile and leaned into Hector’s ear to ask him something in Spanish. Marie inferred from the woman’s hand signals that the question was about her and Logan.

“Esmeralda wants to know how you two met.” Hector said across the table.

Marie was a bit taken aback, not having any idea how to answer the woman’s question. It occurred to her that she and Logan probably should have discussed that little detail when they decided on their little cover story. Picking up on her hesitation, Logan took her hand under the table and gave it a small squeeze, indicating that he would tackle this one.

“Tell her, uh…” Logan started, his hazel eyes meeting Marie’s gaze with a flicker of something that she couldn’t quite place.

“Tell her a mutual friend showed me a picture…” he continued, the hazel of his eyes coming alive with flecks of gold in the glow of the candle on the table.

“…and…I guess you could say I’ve been chasin’ after her ever since.”

Hector translated to Esmeralda as Logan continued to squeeze Marie’s hand under the table. Distantly, she heard Hector saying something else to them, but Marie was so entrapped in Logan’s darkening gaze that she missed it. Damn it if the man couldn’t make a woman feel naked even when she was fully clothed.

“Huh?” she asked absently, finally snapping her eyes from Logan’s and returning them to Hector.

“I said Esmeralda thinks it’s cute that you can still blush about that.”

“Oh…” Marie removed her hand from Logan’s grasp and pressed it to her hot cheek. The woman had made a sharp observation. Married people didn’t blush like that.

“C’mon darlin’, let’s dance,” Logan said quickly, taking her hand and pulling her up from where she sat, saving them both from the awkward situation.

“I didn’t figure you for the dancing type.” Marie said to Logan as he led her toward a dark corner of the busy patio.

“I’m not.” he replied gruffly, pulling her flush against his muscular body. He was right about that, because what they were doing right now was not so much dancing as it was slowly swaying together to the seductive beats pumping out from the loudspeakers.

“Thought she was startin’ to ask too many questions,” he added softly into Marie’s ear, his lips brushing against it as he drew her arms up and around his shoulders. Marie shuddered at the tenderness of his touch as his fingertips slowly skated down the flesh of her bare arms, raising goose pimples on her skin when they brushed along the undersides of her arms and down over the sides of her body.

Marie could feel every taut muscle of Logan’s body as he held her tight and turned her around slowly…so slowly. And oh God, the way he was looking at her right now…it was the same look she’d seen in his eyes the night he’d caught her naked in the river; the same look he’d given her on the veranda the night before when she stood almost naked before him. It was that deep, hungry look that shot straight to the junction between her thighs, creating a warm pool of desire there.

Marie saw something else in that look as he leaned in close to her, his nose and lips nearly touching hers as they danced, and suddenly the temperature on the patio of the bar and grill shot up by another twenty degrees, if that was even possible. She gasped softly against his lips as his fingertips began to dance across the small of her back, his eyes not leaving hers, even for a second. Marie was finding it increasingly difficult to think straight, her mind replaying images of their intimate encounter the night before.

The song was over too soon. Logan held Marie in his arms for a few moments as the music faded out, neither of them quite ready to let go. It was Marie who made the first move, a bit frightened by what might happen if she didn’t pull away.

“Logan…?” she asked against his lips.

“Yeah darlin’?” he replied, and oh God, he was still looking at her so hungrily.

“I should go now.”

Logan said nothing, simply held her for a few lingering moments before relaxing his hold on her waist. Marie slipped out of his embrace. The look in his eyes told her that he also knew it was time for her to go, even if there was a little bit of reluctance in there.

“Goodbye.” she whispered, knowing that even above the music, he would be able to hear it. Then Marie turned and descended the patio steps, walking off into the darkness of the beach.


~*~

Chapter 11: Runaway Train

Halfway along the ten-minute walk across the beach to the villa, the rain started again, and though the downpour wasn’t as heavy as it had been during the morning storm, it was more than enough to ensure that Marie was soaked to the bone. When it started to really come down, Marie considered jogging the rest of the way back to the villa, but changed her mind, welcoming the warm rain pellets as they drenched her sheer blue sundress.

She wanted the rain to soak her, to warm her and cool her at the same time, to wash her clean of all doubt as she prepared for the next, lonely leg of her journey; she wanted it to wash away all traces of what she was leaving behind so that she could fully welcome the new life that awaited her.

When the rain failed to wash away those doubts, Marie did start jogging. Then her jog turned into a full run as she raced the length of the beach, tears stinging at her eyes and raindrops whipping at her skin as she neared the villa that she and Logan had shared for just over a week.

Bolting into the villa, Marie threw herself to the floor and dug underneath the bed, searching for the small duffel bag that Logan had bought for her. She left trails of water on the floor as she darted between the open dresser drawers and the open duffel bag on the bed, throwing her sundresses and underwear inside of it without bothering to fold them. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders and back as she moved about in a flurry, packing as quickly as she could.

A few minutes later, she had her few belongings packed and then the duffel bag was zipped up and slung hastily over her shoulder as she headed toward the front door. The raindrops were coming down in full force now, pounding on the roof above her as she said her private goodbye. She opened the door and backed out onto the veranda, taking one final look inside the villa before closing the door.

Marie stood there for a few moments, looking at the wood grain of the closed door, and one of her hands came up to wipe the water from her face. She couldn’t tell anymore whether she was wiping away raindrops or teardrops…in any case, it didn’t really matter now. After finally getting up the gumption to leave, Marie took a deep breath and turned around…

…and came face to face with Logan, who was standing at the bottom of the patio steps, rain soaked and out of breath.

He had been running. Marie could tell, because his broad chest was heaving the same way it had after she’d led him on that wild chase through the bush a little over a week ago. The dim light of the veranda bounced off of the raindrops in his hair and on his face as he stood there, those beautiful hazel eyes looking right through her.

This time she may as well have been naked, because her soaked sundress clung to every curve of her body, and her nipples, stimulated by the combination of the rain and the air conditioning of the villa, poked through the sheer material, leaving nothing to the imagination. Marie felt the beginnings of a wet pool between her legs that had absolutely nothing to do with the rain.

He said one word as he slowly ascended the steps, and whether it was because he was out of breath or because of the deafening sound of the raindrops hitting the awning above them, Marie didn’t hear it. She didn’t need to hear it to know what it was, however. She’d seen the curl of his lips and teeth around that one word, had seen the fire in his eyes as he spoke, and there was no mistaking what he had said. One word...

Stay.

He had to know she wouldn’t have said no, but apparently he wasn’t taking any chances, because as soon as her mouth opened in reply, Logan devoured the distance between them, burying his hands in her wet hair as he crushed his lips to hers. Marie’s duffel bag fell to the floor as his tongue pushed past her lips, stroking her own tongue and invading the cavern of her mouth as he groaned hungrily into it.

His hands were all over her body then, caressing and squeezing every part of her that he could reach before settling on her behind. Lips and tongues and teeth mashed into each other as Marie snaked her fingers through his thick, wet hair and returned his urgent kisses, letting out small moans of her own as his tongue ravished her. She whimpered a little as he gave her bottom a firm squeeze and crushed her pelvis to his, the proof of his desire now rock hard under the material of his pants.

With a hoarse grunt, Logan’s hands moved to her thighs, spreading them apart and hoisting her up in his arms as her shoes fell to the floor. Then she was slammed back into the closed door of the villa and Logan grabbed her ass in his strong hands, grinding his hardness against her covered crotch. Marie thought she would faint with the intensity of how good he felt against her. And that mouth was so very talented, she thought, as he moved his open mouth to the base of her neck and pressed his warm tongue to the raindrops glistening there, sucking and licking them off.

“I thought - oh God yes, Logan – thought…you wanted me to leave…” Marie managed to say between panted breaths.

“Think you should follow your instincts,” he breathed raggedly against her neck, placing wet kisses and gentle nibbles on it as he moved up toward her ear. “What do your instincts tell you, darlin’?”

Marie opened her mouth to reply, but all coherent thought left her when he squeezed one of her breasts in his hand and moved his warm mouth down to cover her nipple, hardening it through the soaked material. Marie whimpered as his teeth sank down gently around the areola. She knew exactly what her instincts were telling her right now, and they had nothing to do with leaving.

“Let me take care of you,” he rasped, his mouth moving back up to her ear as he pressed her hard into the door of the villa. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

Marie wrapped her legs around Logan, pulling him harder to her as her hands roamed the marvelous chest under his open shirt. He growled lustily in her ear at the contact of her fingers brushing across his sensitive nipples.

“Promise?” she asked, her voice breathy as her arousal took over. Logan’s eyes snapped up to meet hers and she saw them immediately darken with a deep, feral desire.

“Yeah,” he whispered, the corners of his mouth turning up a little. “Yeah, I promise.”

With that, Logan snaked an expert hand under her wet sundress and hooked his fingers under the waistband of her panties. With one hard yank and a sharp sting to her skin, they were ripped off and strewn aside.

Logan wrapped Marie’s arms around his shoulders as he turned her around and walked her to the wooden railing of the veranda. He sat her down on the broad wooden beam, and then hands and mouths were everywhere as he stripped off her wet dress and she stripped away his wet shirt. Marie pressed her open mouth to Logan’s chest, eliciting a low groan from him as she licked the raindrops away with her tongue.

The rain pounded on the awning above them as Marie hastily reached for the belt of his pants, finally getting it undone and freeing his large cock. Logan shoved the pants down, kicking them away along with his shoes. Marie wrapped her fingers around his manhood, stroking it as Logan buried his face in her wet hair, growling and bucking his hips under her ministrations.

“Darlin…” he pleaded in her ear as she caressed his rock hard length. “…rrrrrgghh…wanna take you inside baby, but I can’t wait,” he panted, his grip tightening on her hips.

“I don’t want to wait, Logan,” she panted desperately, and that was all the encouragement he needed. One of his hands came up to bury itself in her wet hair while the other went down to take hold of his cock and brush the velvety head against her slick opening. His mouth descended on hers and she moaned at the contact of his hardness pressing against her center. Then Logan’s hand was out of her hair and on her hip, steadying her as he buried his rigid length inside of her with one rough thrust.

Marie felt her inner muscles contracting and releasing around his cock as they adjusted to his size. She felt as though she was being split open, and never imagined anything could feel so good as he did right now, inside of her.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

“Oh God, yes,” she answered, and he took the lusty look in her eyes as his signal to start possessing her fully, completely.

Logan’s hands hooked under her knees and pulled her forward a bit on the railing before cupping her bottom in his hands, preparing her for the wild thrusting that would soon follow. Marie moaned loudly as he began to move within her, the intensity of his lovemaking growing with each powerful stroke. He matched her growl for moan as the crescendo began to build between them.

Marie raked her fingernails lightly down Logan’s back, and he groaned in appreciation as her hands reached down to squeeze his ass. And yes, Marie noted to herself through the fog that had fallen over her brain, that ass was just as glorious as she had imagined. Logan pressed soft kisses to Marie’s neck and shoulders, reveling in the way she panted his name.

Marie distantly heard the creak of the wooden railing beneath them as Logan’s thrusts grew in tempo, his hips slamming forcefully against hers. His cock was like steel on fire inside of her as he clutched at her hips, holding her steady as he began to pound into her for all she was worth.

It wasn’t long before Marie felt that familiar white heat beginning at her center and splitting across her pelvis, and knew she was nearing release. Soon that white heat was splintering her, sending her flying apart in his arms and gasping against his chest.

“Oh, YES Logan…” she mumbled into his chest as he drove into her relentlessly, taking her home. Her inner muscles began contracting and releasing around him as she tumbled over into blackness. Marie knew that Logan wasn’t far behind her, because his growling was growing louder in her ear, and his thrusting becoming erratic as he tumbled over with her.

“Fuck Marie…” he grunted, and then he buried himself inside of her completely and crushed his open mouth to hers, his hips spasming uncontrollably as he spilled what must have been his whole body into her warm depths. He whispered incoherent mumblings of love and affection in her ear and stroked her hair as they both came down from their peak.

When their sanity had returned somewhat, Logan snapped his wrist up and took a glance at his watch. Marie eyed him in question.

“You still got time to catch that train,” he said, his voice hoarse and breathy as he cocked an eyebrow at her.

Marie’s mouth dropped open in incredulity. He couldn’t possibly be serious. Just as she thought of a string of obscenities to rattle off at his nerve, he caught her and cupped a hand over her mouth, bringing his face close to hers.

“Wanna make sure you miss it.” he growled silkily, a wicked glint in his eyes and a feral smile on his lips. Marie felt his cock hardening inside of her again as he lifted her off of the railing and wrapped her legs around him. He carried her to the door of the villa, kicked it open, and took her inside.

Marie got the feeling he meant to make sure that by the time he was finished with her, not only would she not be able to run away from him…she wouldn’t be able to walk or crawl away either.


~*~

Chapter 12: Stay (Part I)


“Darlin’…you awake?”

“…hmmm?”

The haze from Marie’s incredibly satisfying sleep began to clear at the rumble of Logan’s deep voice as he peppered soft kisses between her breasts and slowly trailed downward. She could see the glow of the morning sun behind her eyelids, but chose to keep them closed. Right now, she was enjoying all too much the divine feeling of his bristly facial hair brushing against the flesh of her stomach as he pressed his soft lips to it.

She felt Logan’s fingertips lightly raking down the sides of her body as he slowly descended, opening his mouth to press his warm tongue against her skin, and shivered at the vibration of his soft growl against her. She rewarded his efforts with a low, throaty groan of her own as he continued his sensual assault, licking and nibbling his way down her midsection…slowly…tortuously.

Marie felt the unmistakable warm wetness of his tongue as it rimmed her navel, and then a strong, warm hand slid insistently between her thighs, brushing lightly against her sensitive bud before lovingly coaxing them apart. Marie lazily obliged, feeling Logan’s heavy upper body move down to settle between her splayed legs. Urgent fingertips raked softly down the flesh of her inner thigh before two strong arms hooked under her upper legs, hands taking hold of her now writhing hips.

Deliciously soft kisses again, and then the bristle of Logan’s whiskers as he explored the smooth, silky patch of flesh beneath her navel, and then…

“Holy fucking shit!” Marie gasped, her eyes suddenly snapping open. Logan’s hazel eyes burned into her as he watched her face…from between her legs.

Oh God, was that his mouth?

Logan answered her silent question by covering her mound again with his warm mouth as she watched, and dragged another hot, wet lick over her engorged pebble. The sheer sensation of it, coupled with the sight of Logan’s self-satisfied face so close to her most private place, drew a violent shudder from her hips and she squeezed her eyes shut again, throwing her head back down into the pillow.

Her next reaction was to try to close her legs, but this only caused more of a stir, because now she was feeling his whiskers bristling against her inner thighs. This was too much…the feeling of his hot mouth on her, and oh sweet Jesus, the look on his face. Logan’s hands moved up to her knees, pressing them back down to the bed.

“No,” he said softly against her, torturing her with his hot breath on her center. “Wanna see you, baby…you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Marie shuddered again at his words, and then that warm, wet tongue was on her again, forcing a loud moan from her as her hips began to thrash wildly under his strong hold. The rumble of his growl shot through her every nerve ending as he covered her again fully with his mouth, the tip of his tongue circling and then flicking at her aching bundle of nerves.

Marie panted loudly as he lapped greedily at her swollen folds, her hands grabbing fistfuls of the bed sheet beneath her. Their lovemaking the night before had been frenzied and furious, and she vaguely remembered him breathing to her between groans and growls that there was so much more he wanted to show her…

…but she had no idea.

“Oh GOD! Ahhh…Logan, that feels…” she couldn’t even finish the sentence. There was just too much happening to her right now, too much happening inside of her…and holy hell that mouth was talented, the way his tongue darted into her and laved at her sex.

“Watch me baby,” he rasped, demanding she open her eyes and look at him as he debauched her even further than she thought possible given their wild lovemaking the night before.

Marie obeyed, opening her eyes, and feeling the surge of desire that ripped through her pelvis as she looked down and into his lust filled eyes. There was no escape now. She couldn’t close her legs, couldn’t look away…she could only watch helplessly, agony and ecstasy surging through her all at once as he held her gaze, loving her with his mouth.

“God, you taste so good Marie,” he whispered against her, and then he was assaulting her furiously with his expert tongue, driving her fast toward release. The echo of Logan’s words, along with the primal, unabashed look in his eyes finally sent her toppling over the edge. Marie’s climax crashed down ferociously on her as she yelped and babbled her appreciation for the unbelievable sensations Logan brought to her body.

She was barely down from her quake when Logan moved his naked body up and trapped her under him, the length of his erection pressing hard against her still quivering folds as he stroked her sweat dampened hair from her face. His eyes looked into hers with undeniable pride for a few moments, and then he began pressing soft kisses to her forehead and temples.

“Darlin?” he rumbled softly into her ear.

“…yeah?” she panted, the aftershocks of her release still rocking her as he tortured her further with the velvety feel of his cock pressing into her pelvis.

“You never actually said you’d stay.” he said huskily, his gaze moving back to meet hers.

“Oh…didn’t I?” Marie murmured playfully, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Unh-uh.” Logan licked the corner of her mouth before trailing kisses down the side of her face again.

“Oh…” she replied. “I guess…maybe I need a little more convincin – MMPH!” Before Marie could even finish the sentence, Logan had her flipped onto her front, pressing her down into the mattress of the bed with his heavy body.

“Did I ever tell you what my third specialty is?” he growled playfully into her ear.

“Mmmm…no, what is it, sugar?” she teased.

“Coercion.”

Logan raised up off of her, and before she could register what was happening, his strong hands were taking hold of her ass, lifting it high into the air as her face pressed into the pillow beneath her. He moved between her legs, then she felt the fingers of one hand dig into the flesh of her hip and the fingers of the other brush against her slick folds. Then his fingers were replaced with the head of his cock, and Marie moaned loudly into the pillow as he entered her with one thrust.

“Stay with me, Marie.” he growled, withdrawing slowly, eliciting a gasp from her as he inched out almost completely and then slammed hard into her again. Marie’s slick canal gave way to him completely, her body still pliant and accommodating from her recent climax.

Marie’s fingers dug into the pillow at the exquisite feeling of his thick cock filling her. She wasn’t going to give him an answer just yet, though…not if this was going to be her punishment.

“I dunno sugar…” she panted as he began to ream her slowly. “…think you gotta work a little harder there.”

Logan’s grip tightened even harder on her hips as he gave her a few forceful thrusts, drawing wild moans of ecstasy from her with each one.

“Like that baby?” he rumbled hoarsely, slowing his thrusts again and grinding his cock deep into her as he awaited her answer.

“Yeah sugar, just like that.” Marie’s own voice was growing hoarse and breathy under his torture. She felt another climax begin to bubble and build up within her pelvis as he obeyed her wishes, clutching at her hips and pounding into her with wild abandon. Her groans were now growing into screams and she began to see white flashes of light behind her closed eyelids as he fucked her wildly.

“Stay.” he said, his voice starting to crack, and Marie could practically hear the smug smirk on his face. She was skating dangerously on the edge of her release, but she was determined not to give in. She decided to inflict a little torture of her own by rolling her hips and squeezing her inner muscles tight around him, and was rewarded by a loud, lusty growl.

“Wanna hear you say it, Marie.” he rasped, his voice growing deeper and huskier as he fought for control. He snaked a hand around to her front then, his expert fingers parting the lips of her sex to rub against her sensitive spot.

It was that simple touch that drove Marie careening over the edge, and then her second climax of the morning was upon her. The telltale signs of Logan’s release were right behind her as he gave in to the milking action of her insides around his cock, his breathing and thrusting growing erratic and losing rhythm.

“Say it, baby…” he pleaded, but it was too late for him. With a roaring growl, he buried himself completely inside of Marie, holding her hips tight to him as his climax ripped through him. His hips bucked and spasmed against her as he lost the fight completely, grunting incoherent words of appreciation as he filled her with his warm liquid. A few moments later, his heavily panting body was collapsing on top of her, crushing her back into the mattress.

“Stay.” his voice was almost a whimper now as he breathed it into her ear. Marie smiled blissfully to herself.

Maybe she’d give him an answer tomorrow.


~*~

Chapter 13: Stay (Part II)


“Get out of the tub, baby.”

It was not like Logan was opposed to the luscious sight of his lover in the bath, all wet and soapy as she was now…quite the opposite, he had rather been enjoying the little peep show she’d been giving him as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet, nursing a hardon to end all hardons as she rubbed the sponge over her naked breasts, massaging her pink nipples into hardened peaks before moving the sponge slowly down over her torso…smiling seductively as she let the sponge disappear under the water just long enough to give Logan a good idea of what other parts of her were slippery and wet…

No, it certainly wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the sight. When he’d woken from his nap, however, he’d had a completely different idea in mind altogether…and following Marie’s scent to the bathroom to find her naked and wet had only served to add more fuel to the fire already raging in his sweatpants.

“Patience, sugar,” Marie teased, letting that sexy little southern drawl come out a bit as the sponge appeared again. She gave the sponge another squeeze over her breasts, sending trails of soapy suds down over her glistening mounds, and driving Logan out of his mind with thoughts of what else she could be wrapping those delicate fingers around right now.

He gave her a low warning growl as all sorts of lascivious thoughts flooded his brain. He saw her eyes widen a bit at the sound, and damn near lost it when his keen sense of smell caught the sharp spike in her arousal. One of Marie’s long, sudsy legs appeared from the water as she rubbed the sponge over it, and Logan couldn’t help but wonder how those soapy, slippery thighs would feel wrapped around him as he pressed her up against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall and slammed into her hot center like there was no tomorrow. Another lusty growl escaped his lips as he relished the image.

“That’s not very nice, sugar,” she taunted, and damn, there was that drawl again, threatening to push Logan over the edge with its low, throaty seductiveness. “Don’t you like it when I’m all nice and clean smellin’?”

“Like it better when you’re wearin’ my scent,” he replied, his cock twitching with every movement of her hands over her body. “Why don’t you come outta there so I can put it back on you?”

Hell, they could even skip the whole toweling off part; he’d be more than happy to lick her dry…and then lick her wet all over again.

There was that dizzying scent of her arousal again. She was enjoying this all to much, taking her sweet time in the tub as Logan sat riveted to the spot, drunk from the sight and smell of her…Christ, if she didn’t get out of there soon, he was going to have to drag her out of there, pull her over to the toilet and impale her on his painful erection. Of course, that would be after he put her over his knee and…

“Get out of the tub, Marie.”

Another growl from him. Another demure smile from her. Logan decided it was time to change tactics. Thankfully there was still enough blood in his lower limbs to get him over to the standalone tub where Marie was soaking. He knelt down behind the tub, pressing a kiss to Marie’s temple before dipping his hand into the sudsy water, the lukewarm temperature confirming Logan’s suspicion that she was just staying in there to torture him.

“Water feels kinda cool darlin’,” he whispered seductively into her ear, drawing a shiver from Marie as his hand finally located the sponge. “Let’s see if I can help warm it up a bit.”

Marie tilted her head back onto the edge of the tub, her eyelids fluttering a bit and then closing as Logan began to drag the sponge over her wet body, growling in her ear before abandoning the sponge in favor of his soapy hand. Marie moaned softly as he lovingly squeezed her breasts, and Logan’s cock nearly jumped out of his pants as he considered replacing his hand with his mouth. He settled for the soft skin of her neck instead, licking it and then sinking his teeth into it as his fingers pinched her erect nipple, forcing a yelp from her.

“Dammit, baby, get outta the tub,” he rasped, his voice growing gravelly with need. When she didn’t answer, Logan’s hand disappeared under the water again, finding her engorged bud and flicking a thumb over it. This drew another moan from Marie, spurning Logan on as he separated her thighs and pulled one leg, then the other, out of the water and over the sides of the bathtub, the suddenness of his movements sending loud splashes of water to the terra cotta tiles of the bathroom floor.

“Mmmm…soon, sugar,” Marie hummed as the fingers of Logan’s hand found her center and sank into her warm canal. Logan groaned in desperation at the contrasting feel of the cool water around his hand and the scorching slickness of Marie’s sex. Her muscles tightened around Logan’s fingers at the sound of his growl in her ear and Logan felt himself starting to slip when she began writhing her hips against his hand.

“Baby…” he pleaded, overcome with the desire to bury himself deep within her. Damn, but the woman had a way of awakening the animal in him…and God, how he loved that. Marie tilted her head toward him, opening her heavily lidded eyes a little to look at Logan, the passion in her stare shooting straight to his cock.

“How about a little something while you’re waiting, sugar?” Marie purred, and Logan just about exploded when she ran her tongue over those beautiful pink lips. Logan was on his feet in a flash and Marie placed her legs back in the tub, splashing the water about as she spun around and raised herself to her knees. Logan was standing before her now, his clothed erection pointing insistently at her reddened face.

With a lusty growl, Logan hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his sweatpants and shoved them downward, letting them fall to his knees as his large cock sprang free from its prison. Marie wrapped her wet fingers around his manhood, drawing a shudder from Logan’s hips as she squeezed it hard. Barely able to contain himself as Marie began to press soft warm kisses against his aching purple acorn, Logan wrapped his hands into her wet hair and pushed against her lips, coaxing them open and sinking his hardness into the warm, exquisite wetness of her mouth.

“Jesus, baby,” he panted, his hands tightening in her locks as he fought to control the excitement bubbling in his loins. Marie hummed around his cock as he began to slowly ream the dripping wet heat that was her mouth, teeth dragging softly behind tongue and lips dragging torturously behind teeth over Logan’s flesh in a way that was quickly driving him toward the edge.

Marie’s fingers encircled the base of Logan’s cock as his thrusts became more insistent, his growls and grunts becoming distant and almost unrecognizable to his own ears as he slid his hardness in and out of her hot, dripping mouth. He needed to get her out of the tub right now. She was driving him insane with her wet soapy breasts pressed up against his thighs as she took him even deeper, the tightness of her throat contracting around his cock. Marie started to sputter as Logan held her head steady and fucked her mouth furiously, the animal now in full control, and oh God baby, don’t choke, please don’t choke…

Logan felt himself nearing the point of no return and tried to withdraw from Marie’s mouth, but she stopped him, bringing her soapy hands up to give his ass a firm squeeze as the head of his cock hit the ridges at the back of her throat. Those chocolate brown eyes fluttered up to look at him as she took him deep, and Logan knew this woman would be the death of him. With a loud growl, Logan finally freed himself from Marie’s hot mouth and grabbed the base of his cock in an attempt to keep from exploding right then and there.

“Get outta the tub baby,” he panted. “Wanna be inside of you.”

“No,” she replied, a husky playfulness in her tone. “I want to see you, sugar.”

Good God.

Logan didn’t even care that this was retribution to what he’d done to her the previous morning. He could afford her no decency right now, not with her looking up at him like this, waiting for him to mark her, and oh god, she was licking her lips again, those beautiful pink lips…

“Rrrgghhh…baby…” It was all Logan could manage to choke out with the heat that was searing through his pelvis as he pumped his cock once, then twice, and then with a yell, he was tumbling into release, his hips shaking violently as he tossed, the thick white ropes of his seed spurting onto Marie’s face and into her hair, and then falling into the bathwater with soft plunks.

Logan shuddered and grunted as he came down from his peak, the animal still raging within him as Marie looked up at him in adoration. Logan felt himself hardening again at the delicious sight of Marie bringing a wet hand up to wipe his essence from her face, and had never before felt so grateful to have that healing factor.

Marie squealed in delight as Logan yanked her out of the tub and carried her soapy body to the toilet. Logan sat down on the closed lid, grabbed her hips in his strong hands and promptly sank her wet heat down onto his rock hard flesh. Crushing his mouth to hers, Logan swallowed her surprised yelp and nearly came again at the exquisite feel of her slippery tunnel quivering around his manhood. His tongue ravished her mouth, caressing her tongue in long, languid strokes as he took hold of her ass and began guiding her up and down on his burning erection.

“You gonna stay with me, baby?” he rasped, rocking his hips upward and reveling in the way her eyes were clouding over with passion. Logan knew she was beyond saying anything coherent right now, which was fine by him, because that meant she couldn’t say no. Marie threw her head back and Logan took the opportunity to catch one of those luscious breasts in his mouth. His cock was on fire now, throbbing inside of her rippling heat as he slammed her hips forcefully down onto his.

Logan growled around her breast, taking a nipple into his teeth and nibbling it to hardness, delighting in the way she shivered and panted his name when he did so. Every rumbling growl against her flesh brought a delicious tightening of her inner muscles around him, and the warm flood that accompanied it only spurned him on further. He growled again and again, matching her moans and screams, licking and biting every inch of her that he could reach with his mouth until he felt that familiar clamping down on his cock and knew she was nearing release.

Logan was beginning to lose it, her wild moans and the roll of her hips filling him with pride. He loved the way she screamed his name, and Jesus, she felt so nice and tight around him…

Logan wrapped Marie’s wet legs around him and stood from the toilet. He needed more leverage…needed to pound into her. Looking around the bathroom for a moment, Logan finally decided on his earlier idea and pinned Marie’s slippery body to the cold tiles of the wall. She gasped at the sudden coolness on her back and then moaned loudly into Logan’s open mouth as he covered her lips with his and plundered into her.

“Oh yes, sugar,” Marie breathed, tightening her legs around Logan and forcing him deeper into her. Logan showed no mercy, slamming her into the wall as her words drove him further into madness.

“Love it when you call me that, baby,” he growled in her ear. His cock was immediately flooded with more wet warmth and he rewarded her response with a few more scream inducing thrusts.

“Want you to stay with me Marie,” Logan grunted as he pounded into her, driven wild by the feeling of Marie’s soapy legs around his hips and the simultaneous rippling of her hot center around his rigid length. Logan held Marie’s hips steady and adjusted the angle of his thrusts so that they were hitting all the right places. Every grinding roll of his hips brought a louder moan from those gorgeous lips as Logan breathed words of love and affection against her ear and neck.

“Oh shit…Logan…”

Marie’s words were low, guttural, lost in passion and lust as Logan drove his lover home. Logan brought his gaze to fix on Marie’s as she lost her foothold on her reality and began to shudder violently against him and around him. Her hot breath in his ear as she panted in release was what finally did Logan in, and with a final growl, he sank into her fully, his hips bucking wildly against hers as he flooded her welcoming depths with everything he had.

Marie babbled her appreciation as Logan smoothed the wet hair from her face, her inner muscles still quivering around him as she came down from her peak, and Logan could not feel anything but utter pride and self satisfaction as he looked into her eyes and watched her scramble for sanity again.

“You gonna stay baby?” he asked, but Marie was beyond being able to string her words together in any way that made sense. Logan sank his mouth down on hers, wrapping her limp legs around him again as he walked her over to the tub. Once there, he turned on the hot water faucet and stepped in, lowering them both down into the water. Logan smiled smugly to himself as Marie purred against his chest.

He supposed there was no harm in giving her another day to decide.


~*~

Chapter 14: Stay (Part III)


“Mmm…that tickles.”

A sleepy Logan took hold of Marie’s hand and halted the gentle circular motions she had been making with her fingers around his sensitive nipple. God he looked beautiful like this, Marie thought, as his sleepy hazel eyes opened to take her in for the first time that morning.

She had been hoping that he wouldn’t wake up so quickly…she’d been enjoying all too much the sight of him as he slept on his side, facing her, one arm draped protectively around her waist. She’d studied every peak and valley of his perfectly sculpted chest and torso, had memorized the way his tanned skin glowed in the sunlight that streamed through the window of the villa, tried to lock it all away somewhere in her mind so that she would always have this image.

She’d lightly traced a finger over the curve of his lips and the rugged line of his jaw, had moved up slowly to brush a fingertip gently over his thick eyebrows – so expressive, even as he slept. All through this he had remained asleep, allowing her to fully explore the marvelous terrain that lay before her.

And marvelous it was, from the strong sculpted lines of his shoulder muscles right down to the v-shaped sinew signifying the end of his torso and the beginning of his equally exquisite lower terrain, veiled by the rumpled bed sheet half-covering them both.

“Mornin’, sugar,” she half-whispered against a now fully awake Logan’s lips, lacing her words with a sultry drawl and knowing full well that she was unleashing all hell on fire just in so doing. A soft growl from her lover’s lips proved her right. Logan’s hand moved downward, giving her ass an urgent squeeze as he pulled her snugly against him. Dizzying swirls of desire enveloped them both as Logan crushed her pelvis to his, the white sheet serving as the only barrier between her nakedness and his raging morning erection.

God, she loved it when he looked at her like that…like he wanted to eat her whole. And evidently he was going to try, because before Marie could speak again, he had a hand tangled in her thick, silky locks, anchoring her as he pressed his lips to hers. Logan coaxed her mouth open with his tongue and then he was invading her fully, brushing his tongue lovingly over hers as she moaned softly into his mouth. Marie felt her teeth click lightly against his as he growled with desire, trying to take more of her, to taste more of her. Such was the nature of his lovemaking; he demanded no less than all of her, and Marie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Marie felt herself instantly dampen as he squeezed her ass urgently, then his hand was moving downward, pressing his fingers into her thigh before pulling her leg over his hips and rolling onto his back, bringing her fully on top of him. The bed sheet fell away completely as she sat up on top of him, and he growled sexily at the sight of her fully exposed, sitting squarely on his pulsing hardon.

Marie couldn’t resist the sight of him like this, just woken, eyes fiery and dark with animal desire, hair all ruffled and unruly as though he’d been up to something extremely naughty the night before – which, of course, he had.

Logan licked his lips as he drank in all of her, his eyes savoring her as though he were looking at a gourmet meal at a five star restaurant. Air conditioning be damned, the temperature in the villa was spiking to dangerous levels, what with Logan debauching her with his unabashed gaze, offering up unspoken promises of the wonderful things to come.

Marie felt a dizziness take over when Logan dug his fingers into her hips and began rocking her slippery folds along the length of his cock. He groaned at the sensation of her gliding against him and settled her into an intense grinding rhythm with his powerful hands, rolling his pelvis upward into hers.

“You like that, baby?” Logan half-whispered, the quiet tenderness of his voice standing out in stark contrast to the rough urgency of his hands on her hips and the intense pressure of his length grinding against her increasingly wet center.

“Oh yes, sugar,” Marie answered with an appreciative moan as velvet covered steel slid back and forth against her most sensitive parts. Marie’s fingernails sank into the muscles of Logan’s chest as the swollen head of his cock brushed delightfully against her sensitive bud, firing up a dull ache in her pelvis that she longed to have relieved. She was writhing wantonly on top of him now, giving in completely to her most primal desires as Logan worked his hardness against her softness, his fingers digging insistently into the flesh of her ass.

“We can do this every morning, Marie," he rumbled sweetly, his voice growing husky and thick with need as he looked up at her, and then Marie heard him growl low and deep in his chest as she flooded his steely flesh with another rush of wet heat.

Logan’s cock pulsed insistently between them, begging for entry into Marie’s warm depths, and then he was sitting up, latching his mouth onto a breast as he continued to grind her against him. Marie threw her head back, reveling in the feel of his mouth on her, and wrapped her fingers in his thick, unruly hair. When he lay down again, he brought Marie down with him, pushing away the long silken locks that fell around him, and cupping her face in his hands.

“Stay,” he whispered against her mouth before catching her bottom lip in his teeth and giving it a few gentle nibbles. Looking into his eyes, Marie knew that there were no other options. And even if there were, she wouldn’t dream of considering them. She was his now. She knew it. He knew it.

“Okay,” she whispered back, and even though they had both known she was going to stay, there was something about her saying it in so many words that made things official, at least for Logan. There was a spark in his eyes as she said it, an unspoken relief, and in the next instant, Logan had her flipped onto her back.

Taking hold of her hips once more, Logan sheathed himself inside of Marie in one thrust, covering her open mouth with his and swallowing a moan she didn’t even recognize as her own. He returned a lusty growl at the sensation of her warm heat wrapped around him, urging him as deep as possible. Marie felt herself quivering around him, adjusting to his thickness, and then they began their rhythm, pushing and pulling against each other wildly as passion took over.

“Won’t let anybody hurt you, Marie,” he breathed raggedly against her lips, his hands now buried in her hair as he ground his cock into her. Marie wrapped her legs around his hips, pressing her heels into his behind, pulling him deeper. She drew her fingernails down the taut muscles of his back, slowly bringing her hands down to settle on his ass and give it a tight squeeze. This drew a hiss from between Logan’s clenched teeth and he thrust harder into her, splitting her open and driving her further into ecstasy with each intense stroke.

“I'll kill anybody that touches you, baby,” he growled into her ear, and sweet Jesus, she loved it when he growled like that. One of Logan’s hands moved back down to her hip, steadying her movements a little so that he could hit that soft spot deep inside that drove her wild. Marie moaned loudly in response, writhing against Logan’s strong grip as he slammed into her.

“Oh god yes…YES, Logan…” Marie panted, submitting fully to his powerful thrusts, tightening around him and forcing a loud growl from him as she whimpered her delight. Before long, every muscle in her body was tensing up, preparing for release. This was driving Logan wild with pride and lust as he ground into her relentlessly, Marie could tell by the low, continuous growl deep in his chest.

“Oh YES sugar, right there,” Marie murmured, feeling the swollen head of his cock deep inside of her, rubbing just the right spot. Logan crushed his open mouth to hers and swallowed her gasps and moans, matching them with his own grunts as he drove her over the edge. It wasn’t much longer before Marie felt herself being split apart by the blinding white heat of her climax, clenching and releasing uncontrollably around her lover’s cock.

The look and sound and smell of Marie’s release was too much for Logan, it always was. His deepest primal instincts now unleashed, Logan raised himself to his knees, grasping Marie’s hips tightly with his hands and pounding into her like wildfire. Marie looked up at him and licked her lips seductively, knowing that the aftershocks of her release were edging him further toward insanity.

“Holy…fuckin’…hell…baby,” was all he managed to get out between grunts and growls, and then with one final slam of his hips he was buried to the hilt, his cock throbbing wildly as he pumped his seed deep into her. Marie purred in satisfaction as she looked up at Logan, accepting everything he had to offer.

“I think you’re right, sugar,” Marie cooed to him as he ran an errant hand through his wild hair, still panting heavily from his release. “We should do this every morning.”

Logan chuckled softly as he withdrew from her and collapsed beside her.

“Christ, baby, you’ll be the death of me,” he said, pulling her into his arms. Marie snuggled into him blissfully, thinking to herself that it might not be such a bad way to go.

“Marie?” Logan asked as she began to doze off on his chest.

“Hmmm?” she murmured sleepily.

“We haven’t left the villa for three days.”

Marie laughed softly against Logan’s chest and he responded with an exhausted chuckle. Both of them agreed it was probably time to emerge from their love nest. The small refrigerator in the kitchenette was almost bare, and besides, they should probably show their faces at the bar, let Hector know they were still alive. They decided to pay a visit to the bar and grill that evening, after they had caught up on some much needed rest.

They had no way of knowing it would be the very evening that trouble came looking for Logan.



~*~

Chapter 15: Day of Reckoning


Saying goodbye to Hector Ramirez should have been easier than it was, Logan thought that evening as he sat across from his half-Mexican, half-American friend amidst the usual hustle and bustle of the bar and grill. Truth was Logan never had to say goodbye before. Every time in the past that he had blown through Veracruz only to announce his leaving a short time later, there had been an understanding, an unspoken promise that he would return.

So Logan never said goodbye. Sometimes his farewell was as simple as a “See ya”, or a “Later”…at other times, a rough slap on the back or a nod of the head as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder was enough. Logan had never pretended to owe anything to Hector, nor had Hector ever implied that anything was owed to him, and both men liked that just fine. Months would pass, years even, before Logan came back, but he would always come back.

What made this occasion different, however – and they both knew this – was that when Logan packed up and departed with Marie in the following days, it would be for good. There would be no surprise return this time, no unexpected knock on Hector’s door in the middle of the night. As good as Veracruz had been to Logan and Marie over the last few weeks, Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that their time and luck was about to run out. The longer they remained in Veracruz, the greater the risk of danger for everyone involved.

“So where’re you two gonna be heading next?” Hector asked Logan once Marie got up from the patio table where the three were seated and retreated to the ladies’ room inside of the crowded bar. “Paris? Japan? I hear Alaska’s nice this time of year.”

Logan took a large gulp from his glass of scotch, his eyes still following the lovely brunette as she snaked her way gracefully through the throngs of people dancing and mingling on the patio.

“Dunno,” he replied stiffly, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t given that part much thought. Marie had a passport now, which meant that she was free to travel, and Logan had enough money stashed away to last them both a lifetime, so the world was their oyster, really. Logan couldn’t help a slight shiver at Hector’s last comment, though. Anyway you cut it, Alaska was simply too cold, so that was definitely out of the question.

Logan watched as Hector took a hearty swig from his beer bottle and then set it down on the table, absently rubbing the palm of his hand over his honey-colored goatee. Logan noted to himself that the younger man had not changed much in appearance or in mannerism in the ten years since he and Logan first crossed paths, or rather, since the day that Hector had stumbled upon the drunken, passed-out body of a depressed Logan on the Veracruz beach that he called home.

It was a day that Logan would never forget, the day Hector dragged his heavy body out of the violent storm and to one of the nearby villas, gave him a place to stay and get his shit together, offered up friendship at a time when Logan felt he neither wanted nor needed it. Hector never seemed to care about who or what Logan was, and in not pressing for such information, had become the first person in the world to earn the Wolverine’s trust.

Cocky though Hector could be at times, Logan knew that underneath the bravado, there was an earnest man, a good man. He also knew that however much Hector tried to hide it, he would be disappointed to see Logan leave for the last time. And although Hector didn’t know all of the details of Logan and Marie’s departure, Logan knew that he understood the urgency of their situation, understood why they wouldn’t be coming back.

“Well hey, if you ever change your mind about coming back, the door’s always open,” Hector finally offered up to a somber Logan.

The silence that followed barely had enough time to turn awkward before being interrupted by a bone chilling growl from deep within Logan’s chest.

“Chill, dude, what’s the prob…” Hector’s words trailed off as he followed Logan’s gaze to the interior of the bar, where it appeared one of his patrons – drunk, no doubt, and apparently harboring a death wish – was getting a little too familiar with an obviously disinterested Marie.

“…shit…” Hector mumbled under his breath. It didn’t take a team of geniuses to figure out that this party was about to come to a screeching halt.

Logan’s hand tightened like a vise around his drinking glass, nearly breaking it as he watched the scene unfolding inside of the pub.

There was Marie, trying to squeeze past a dark haired man at the bar, only he wasn’t letting her pass. The man was saying something in her ear, and she was shaking her head “no”…she was saying something else to him that Logan could not hear from where he was sitting. Now she was motioning in the direction of the patio, maybe telling the guy that she was already here with someone.

Evidently, the man was not about to take no for an answer, and proceeded to slip an arm around Marie’s waist. Marie’s hands were coming up to the man’s chest now, trying to push him away as his hold on her grew uncomfortably snug. Another low growl rumbled from Logan’s throat, his teeth now bared as he watched Marie try to free herself from the man’s embrace.

The party ended at precisely the time the man’s hand traveled downward to give Marie a much too friendly squeeze on the behind.

Logan was up from the table in a flash, fire raging in his eyes as he pushed past the people crowding the patio and stormed into the bar with Hector hot on his heels, trying to calm his friend down.

~*~*~

Marie was too busy trying to liberate herself from her admirer’s grip to either see or hear Logan coming. It was as though Logan materialized out of nowhere, pulling Marie out of the man’s arms and shuffling her protectively behind him. Before Marie could even make sense of what was happening, Logan slammed the man’s head down hard onto the lacquered surface of the bar.

The shocked yells of the tavern’s customers could be heard as the loud music came to a halt, and a gathering of curious people quickly began to form around the bar. From behind Logan, Marie could see the man’s hand go up to his forehead, where a thin line of blood was trailing from a fresh gash just above his left eyebrow.

Logan grabbed the stunned man by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up to eye level, so that his feet were now barely grazing the floor.

“Didntcha see the ring on her finger, bub?” Logan growled through clenched teeth. Marie lightly placed her hand on Logan’s arm in an attempt to assuage him. The last thing they needed was to be creating a scene.

“It’s alright, sugar, I’m fine,” she said soothingly to him. “Let’s just leave, okay?”

The only response from Logan was another ominous growl. The man in his grip appeared neither sorry for his actions nor afraid of Logan, if the stony expression on his face was to be believed, and this was only serving to further provoke Logan’s anger.

Just then, Marie heard Hector’s voice behind her, pushing his way through the crowd of spectators that had collected around them.

“Hey man, come on, it’s not worth it,” Hector tried to reason with Logan as he approached, pulling at Logan’s arm. Logan shrugged Hector’s hand away from his shoulder, his growls growing louder by the second.

“Logan, let’s GO,” Marie said insistently, as she and Hector continued to try and pull Logan off of the strange man. An eternity seemed to pass before Logan’s anger subsided, but eventually it did, and Logan dropped the man to the floor with one final warning snarl.

The man slowly stood from the floor, brushing himself off as the patrons around him snickered and whispered to each other behind him. Hector placed a hand on Logan’s back, directing him and Marie toward the patio door, and telling Logan that he would deal with their unruly guest.

Marie wasn’t sure what told her to look back, but when she did, she was just in time to see the man reach into his shirt pocket and pull out what appeared to be a switchblade.

“Look out!” Marie shrieked as the man raised his arm to take a swing at Logan’s back. Almost as soon as the warning left her lips, Logan spun around, pushing Marie and Hector out of harm’s way, and knocking the knife out of the man’s hand. Before the blade even hit the floor, Logan had the man pinned to the wall by the throat, his forearm nearly choking the life out of the man.

Seconds later, the inevitable happened. The claws were out and Logan had twenty seven inches of gleaming metal grazing the man’s nose, the suddenness of his actions forcing screams of fear and surprise from everyone standing around them.

“What the f…” was all the man could choke out from beneath Logan’s iron grip.

“C’mon, dollface, I gotta get you outta here,” Hector said to Marie hurriedly, taking her by the arm. The situation was about to escalate out of control.

“No! Hector, you have to do something, he’s gonna KILL him!” Marie said, shrugging her arm out of Hector’s grip, her eyes pleading with his. She and Logan were already in enough trouble. If Logan killed this man, things would only get worse for them.

Marie knew that Hector could see the desperation in her eyes, hear the urgency in her voice. She also knew that he knew it was time to defuse the current situation before it was too late.

Marie watched as Hector made his way to where Logan was threatening to tear the man to shreds and reached into the waistband of his pants, pulling out a .38 revolver. There were more astonished screams as Hector placed the barrel of the revolver against the man’s temple.

“Go on, get outta here, man,” Marie heard Hector say to Logan. “I’ll take care of this.”

Logan didn’t appear convinced, so Marie approached and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sugar…?” she asked tentatively.

“GO!” Hector said forcefully, his eyes not leaving the trembling man at the other end of his gun.

Logan finally sheathed his claws and Marie gave the sleeve of his shirt a light tug, leading him toward the exit.

“Let’s go outside and have a little talk,” Hector could be heard saying to the man as Marie and Logan made their way out of the door.

~*~*~

Later that night, as he stood on the patio of their villa looking out into the darkness of the beach, Logan couldn’t help but notice how the violent crashing of the waves on the shore seemed to warn of trouble ahead. Their cover now blown, he and Marie would need to leave earlier than planned. Word would spread like wildfire about a man with metal claws staying in Veracruz with a young brunette, and Magneto’s men would be swarming the area in no time.

The humidity hung heavy in the air, trapping that clover scent that was all Marie’s, and announcing her arrival on the veranda behind Logan as she stepped out of the villa. Logan heard the soft padding of bare feet behind him as she approached, and felt the tension drain from his muscles when her delicate arms slipped around him, hugging his powerful torso to her from behind.

“We’ll leave in the morning,” he said solemnly after a few moments of stillness. Marie said nothing in reply, only held him tighter to her, and Logan could feel the silk of her hair against his bare back as she nodded in agreement.

“Hey,” he said, turning toward her and taking her face into his hands, tilting it upward so that her gaze met his. “It won’t always be like this,” he said, trying to comfort her.

Another silent nod from Marie as she cast her eyes downward again. Logan leaned down and pressed his lips soflty to Marie’s, hoping she could feel what he wasn’t able to put into words. When their lips parted, she looked up at him, her chocolate brown eyes glistening with love and joy and sadness all at the same time as Logan brushed his thumb gently over her cheekbone. Marie turned her face into his palm, kissing it lightly before turning and going back into the villa. As Logan watched her disappear into the villa, he began to wonder if he could even keep that promise, and hoped against hope that her faith in him wasn’t misplaced.

Logan looked at the closed door of the villa for a few moments before making his way over to one of the rocking chairs and taking a seat, rocking it gently back and forth as the night grew darker. There would be no sleep for him that night; he would remain exactly where he was, keeping watch until the sun rose over the beach the following morning.

~*~*~

Morning arrived quickly and found Marie alone in the villa, preparing for Logan’s and her departure. Logan had left earlier, telling Marie that he would be back a little later with some plane tickets.

Anywhere you wanna go, baby. Anywhere in the world, he had whispered lovingly as he kissed her awake that morning. Opening her eyes to meet his, Marie saw perfect love reflected in them, and knew that he was prepared to give her no less than everything.

Marie smiled at herself in the mirror over the oak dresser, smoothing down the feathery material of her white sundress as she contemplated the new life that lay ahead of them. She’d never traveled before – not really, anyway. Her adventures as a runaway didn’t count, and the only other place she’d been was, well, here.

Marie had told Logan to surprise her with their destination. Who knows, maybe she would get to see Europe, India or even Africa. The thought sent butterflies swirling in her stomach. As hesitant as she may have been the night before about leaving Veracruz so suddenly, she couldn’t deny the surge of excitement that coursed through her now at the dream of seeing new places and encountering new adventures with Logan. And she had faith in that things wouldn’t always be like this; that they wouldn’t have to run forever.

Marie turned her attention back to packing, the soles of her mules clicking loudly on the wooden floor as she moved back and forth between the open dresser drawers and the duffel bag on the bed.

She was halfway through packing when a loud knock came at the door.

Marie immediately froze in place, alarm shooting through her veins like ice as she wondered whether whoever was outside had heard her footsteps. Marie stood her ground in silence for a few moments, hardly daring to breathe and listening intently for any sounds on the other side of the door. When some time passed and nothing could be heard, Marie relaxed a bit and returned to the task of filling her duffel bag.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when another knock came a few seconds later; a little louder this time, a little more insistent.

Marie slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for further knocking. When none came, she slipped her feet out of her mules and, as quietly as possible, slid them under the bed with her bare feet. She then stood from the bed and tip-toed toward the front window carefully, so as not to cause the floorboards to creak underneath her.

Logan had left her with specific instructions not to open the door for anyone, and Marie was not about to go against his warning, but she needed to know who was at the door. If anything, she thought, she could make a quick and quiet exit through the bathroom window.

Approaching the front window, Marie tugged discreetly at the sheer white curtain, pulling it just enough to the side so that she could see out onto the veranda. When she saw who was on the other side of the door, she let out the breath she had been holding and went to unlatch the door.

“Hector,” she said, greeting her visitor.

“How ya doin’, dollface?” Hector asked as Marie ushered him inside the villa.

“Logan’s not here,” Marie said, noticing how Hector’s eyes seemed to be darting around looking for him.

“Yeah, I know, I saw him leaving earlier,” Hector replied flatly.

“Oh,” Marie said, a little puzzled. “Well, you’re welcome to wait for him. He should be back in a little bit.”

Marie turned her attention back to her packing, rushing to make sure that she hadn’t forgotten anything. She was actually glad that Hector had stopped by. There was something she had wanted to say to him before she and Logan left for good.

“Y’know, I’ve been meaning to thank you,” Marie said cheerfully, standing in front of the dresser and making sure that she had her passport. “Logan and I are really grateful for all your help.”

Marie lifted her hairbrush from the dresser and began stroking her long locks in front of the mirror as she spoke. From the corner of her eye, she could see Hector’s reflection as he stood behind her, close to the door.

“No need to thank me, Rogue,” Hector replied coolly.

Marie’s hand immediately stopped mid stroke, her eyes glued on her own reflection before her. It wasn’t the icy tone of his voice nor was it Hector’s uncharacteristically cold demeanor that made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

It was that he called her Rogue.

The hairbrush fell from Marie’s hand as she looked up at Hector’s reflection in the mirror to see that he had pulled on a pair of leather gloves. Marie’s gaze locked onto Hector’s blue eyes, frozen there for a moment as he reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a gun.

Her sudden dash for the open bathroom door ended with the sharp sting of a tranquilizer dart hitting the back of her neck. It was the last thing she would be aware of before her body suddenly grew heavy and her world went black.


~*~

Chapter 16: Gone


“Marie? Babe, we’re goin’ to Monaco!”

Logan put the bike into park and bounded up the sunny steps of the veranda, eager to show Marie the plane tickets he’d bought. Logan knew she would love Monaco. The entrancing blue sea, the people, the culture, it was all so much different from what she’d ever experienced, and that she would fall in love with it was inevitable.

Finally, Logan could retire; maybe he and Marie could even buy that houseboat that Logan had been thinking about. They could spend their days sailing the crystal blue waters, their evenings would be spent eating fresh seafood and drinking champagne. The more he thought about it, Logan couldn’t wait to get as far away from Mexico as possible so that he could start giving Marie the life she deserved.

He couldn’t wait to see the look in her eyes and the smile on her lips. Nothing seemed wrong at first. The sun was shining brilliantly; the weather was balmy but not too humid…it was the perfect day to start a new life.

At least, that was until Logan entered the villa and realized how eerily quiet it was.

“Marie?” he called out. When there was no answer, Logan quietly closed the door behind him, his senses on the alert for any sign of her. “Darlin’?”

Logan slowly crossed the room toward the bathroom, opened the door and looked in.
She wasn’t there either. Logan felt his blood speed up in his veins as he as he turned around again and surveyed the room. Everything was in its proper place, just the way they had been when Logan left that morning. Except for one thing…all of her stuff was gone.

Logan’s heart gave a lurch as he turned around in the room, looking for something, anything that belonged to her. Storming over to the dresser, he began ripping open the drawers. Every single dress, every undergarment, the swimsuit, her hairbrush. Gone, gone gone.

Logan bolted back into the washroom, tearing open the door of the medicine cabinet and pulling the contents out, letting them spill over the tiled floor. Even her toothbrush was gone. Logan’s heart began to thump loudly in his chest as he exited the bathroom. Taking another look around the room, he caught sight of a single piece of notepaper sitting on top of the kitchenette counter.

He felt his heart crush in his chest before he even read the simple words that were written on it in black ink:

I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Goodbye.

~*~*~

Blackness. Nothing but blackness.

That was what Marie saw when she opened her eyes who knew how many hours later. Suddenly, the memory of what happened the last time she was conscious came rushing back to her and she sat up in a flash, feeling the smarting scrape of a rocky floor beneath her thighs.

Where am I?

The next thing she registered was that her wrists and ankles were bound together with…rope? Marie’s heart began to race in panic as she tried to maneuver herself onto her knees. She blinked her eyes repeatedly, desperately willing them to adjust to the dark as her bound hands came up to feel around for a door, a vent, anything.

“Come on…Come on…” she whispered, her fingers scraping against the rough wall. Was she in a cave? The darkness was so all enveloping that Marie almost couldn’t tell when her eyes were open and when they were closed.

Marie inched along the side of the wall as quickly as her bound legs would allow her, frantically searching from an escape, but to no avail. Marie sank back down onto the ground, her body exhausted and mind still hazy from the tranquilizer she had been given. She raised her knees toward her chest, curling into a corner of the wall and shaking with rage and anxiety. Feeling the rough surface beneath her bare feet, Marie deduced that she was in some sort of underground chamber.

Moments later, Marie heard the shifting of chains on the ceiling above her, and her suspicions were proved correct when the ceiling – which she now began to realize was a door – began to shift, scraping open loudly with a sound that reverberated throughout the dark room.

Marie’s pupils screamed at the sudden invasion as bright orange rays of sun pierced the blackness. Early evening. Marie could tell by the color of the sunrays and the long cactus shadows cast on the ground of wherever she was being held. Once her eyes had adjusted to the sudden light, Marie’s head darted around, searching the room, trying to find any clue as to where she was and how long she’d been there.

It was definitely a bunker of some sort; Marie’s eyes darted around to take in the barely roughed-in walls, looking around for any kind of tool that she could use to escape. The room was completely bare, however, save for a rickety wooden ladder that descended from the door in the ceiling sown to the ground opposite to where she sat.

God, it was so small, so dark…almost like a tomb.

Slowly, and with that awful scraping sound that made Marie’s teeth itch, the door above the ladder slid back until a broad strip of sunlight shone into the room. Marie shrank farther back into her corner, concealing herself in the darkness as her captor began to descend the ladder.

Marie recognized Hector’s tattooed arm as he stepped down from the ladder and came into full view. That blue dragon tattooed on his bicep, the one that Marie had seen before and admired …now, as she looked at it, her stomach was beginning to turn.

“Sleep well, dollface?” he asked, approaching then stooping down in front of her with an evil smile on his lips. Marie felt his blue eyes burn into her skin as they roamed over her. Marie shifted a bit, trying to adjust her white sundress, which had ridden up on her thigh in her desperate attempts to escape.

“Hey,” he sneered, taking hold of her face in his gloved hand and squeezing her cheeks roughly together. Marie felt his fingers digging roughly into her face as he leaned in closer. “I asked you a question.”

Marie glared at Hector for a few moments, daggers shooting from her eyes, before spitting in his face. He didn’t do anything at first. Then his face turned dark as he wiped the saliva from his cheek. In the next moment, the back of Hector’s hand was making contact with her face.

Marie’s ears immediately began ringing, her face growing hot with stinging needles of pain. When the spots dancing before her eyes began to fade, she looked up at Hector, who had now risen to his feet before her.

“So…what, have you been working for Magneto this whole time?” she finally hissed at him, trying to distract his attention from her wrists, which she was determinedly trying to get free. “Were you just waiting to get me alone?” Marie’s voice began to rise in volume, seething with anger.

Hector stooped down to her level again, pulling a knife from one of his boots as he casually rested his elbows on his knees. “Better watch that mouth of yours, `darlin’,” he jeered, placing extra emphasis on the word `darlin’ in an obvious mockery of Logan’s term of endearment.

“What are you gonna do? Kill me?” she spat back as the blade of Hector’s knife gleamed in the sunlight. “I know you won’t,” she continued when Hector didn’t answer. “The son of a bitch wants me alive.”

Hector chuckled briefly at that comment before extending his arm and pointing the knife at Marie’s cleavage. Marie shivered as the tip of the knife pricked lightly into the skin of her chest and dragged slowly upward, stopping just beneath her chin. Marie suddenly felt sick at the icy, hollow glaze of Hector’s stare.

“Well then I guess that leaves me with a whole bunch of other options, doesn’t it?” he whispered.

~*~*~

Logan watched the sun slowly disappear below the Mexican Gulf as he sat on the veranda of the villa, not nearly as drunk as he wanted to be. Swaying to and fro in the rocking chair, Logan folded and unfolded Marie’s note absently in his hands.

The paper was almost falling apart now, as Logan had creased it so many times. The more liquor he drank, the more he folded and unfolded the paper, each time silently willing it to read something else…anything else. Yet each time, the note said the same thing. No more, no less.

Even the sound of the chair’s risers as they creaked on the wooden planks beneath him were sad…crying. Logan raised a near-empty bottle of bourbon to his lips and took a swig of the searing liquid before leaning forward onto his knees.

He’d remained in that spot for most of the day, waiting for her to come back, hoping against hope to see her trotting back up to the villa, kicking the sand up under her feet, saying how she was just at the bar…or how she just went for a quick swim.

She didn’t come back.

Logan’s foot kicked over an empty Tequila bottle as he stood dizzily from where he sat and ran a hand through his hair before digging the heels of his palms into his bloodshot eyes. Leaning back against the railing, he removed a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it.

That she’d told him she’d stay meant nothing now, especially given what had taken place the night before. Marie had seen firsthand how short Logan’s fuse was, gotten a taste of what their life on the run would be like.

His dreams of retirement were now bittersweet, at best. There was no meaning left in it, anymore, not without Marie. He’d given up on his past, and now his future had given up on him. His heart had been ripped out not once, but twice, in as many weeks.

His rage taking over for a moment, Logan picked up one of the empty bottles at his feet and angrily tossed it out onto the beach, hearing the crashing sound that it made as it hit a rock in the distance.

The note still turning over and over in his hand, Logan absently began to amble along the length of the veranda. He unfolded the note again, took another look at it. The words on it were so curt, so blunt. Logan almost couldn’t believe she wrote it.

It was only when he looked up from the note that he realized she hadn’t.

He knew this, because sitting on the ground behind the villa, just where he’d left it when he bought it for her, was Marie’s Vespa. Logan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and his drunken haze immediately disappeared when the sickening truth of the situation struck him.

Logan burst into the villa, adrenaline shooting through his veins like liquid fire as he kicked off his shoes and grabbed his combat boots from under the bed. Once they were on and laced, Logan raced back out of the villa and bolted down the veranda steps toward the bike. He hadn’t the foggiest idea where to start looking, but he was going to find her. And once he did, there was going to be a whole shitload of hell to pay…he only hoped he could find her in time.

That last thought had barely finished forming in Logan’s head when he suddenly had another sickening realization…

…Hector.

His head spinning, Logan leapt off the bike and raced across the beach to Hector’s villa.

~*~*~

“He’s gonna screw you over, Hector…just like he screwed Logan. You know that, don’t you?”

Marie shifted on the hard ground where she sat, trying to keep her voice calm as she attempted to reason with him. This was a more than difficult task. Marie wanted to scream, to kick, to bite, to rip his face right off. He had no idea what Magneto was going to do to her.

As Hector stood over her, Marie discreetly studied his clothing, looking for any opportunity to make skin to skin contact. He was fully clothed though, and even if he hadn’t been, Marie’s hands and legs were so tightly bound together that she could barely maneuver herself into sitting position let alone attempt to take Hector down.

Night had fallen and the bunker was dim, lit only by a small oil lantern hanging beside the entrance. Marie watched as Hector’s face flickered before her in the glow, his once jovial expression now cold and uncaring, a mere shell of who Marie believed him to be.

Hector didn’t answer her question, merely watched her with a taunting glare as the knife dangled between his fingers.

“Logan trusted you,” Marie said, changing tactics in an attempt to appeal to the good in him. Desperation was setting in now and had come out in the shaky tone of her voice.

“Wanna guess how much that’s worth to me?” he scoffed.

“Don’t do this,” Marie pleaded, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears as she realized that he really wasn’t going to let her go. She was trying to raise herself to her knees, the rough ground scraping her skin as Hector silently stood and made his way to the rickety ladder pulling the lantern down from where it hung.

Marie sobbed in panic, realizing that she was about to be left alone again in that unbearable blackness. Suddenly the rage returned, shaking her with it’s intensity as she made one last bid for her life.

“Logan’s going to find me…” she rasped, becoming more and more enraged by the second at the smugness on his face.

“…and when he does, he’s gonna to tear you limb from limb.”

Marie’s eyes were narrowed in incredulity as Hector began to laugh. It was a Iittle laugh at first, but no less sinister, and soon Hectors shoulders began shaking as he chuckled quietly.

“What’s so funny, fuckface?” she hissed.

Hector’s laughter faded after a few moments and Marie felt a shiver run down her spine as his blue eyes stared icily back at her..

“Hector’s already dead,” he said eerily, and then Marie gasped in surprise as Hector’s blue eyes suddenly flashed yellow.

In the next moment, that blue dragon tattoo on his arm was stretching, growing, the scales radiating outward in large blotches until they covered his entire body…

…her entire body.

Marie shrank back against the wall and watched in wide-eyed terror as the strange woman made her way up the rickety ladder and out of the bunker. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest at the sound of chains being once again lifted from the ground above her, and then the door was slowly being dragged shut again.

“They’re on their way,” the blue-skinned woman could be heard saying to an unseen person outside.

Then the leaden door scraped slowly back into place, and the night stars above her disappeared, and once again Marie was plunged into darkness.


~*~*~

Chapter 17: Devil in a Blue Dress


Logan knew something was terribly wrong the moment he placed his hand on the door of Hector’s villa and it slowly swung open under his fingers, its hinges creaking loudly and piercing the silence of the night. The beach was abnormally quiet, and save for the periodic crash of the tide behind him, Logan’s ears could detect nothing for miles. There were no rhythmic beats pumping out from the bar and grill’s loudspeakers…no drunken revelers stumbling along the shore…no chattering or laughter drifting out from the eatery and into the hot summer night.

Staring into the dark interior of Hector’s villa, it was becoming painstakingly clear to Logan why there was no noise emanating from the tavern that evening…and why there probably never would be again.

A moth flitted about overhead as Logan stood on the veranda for a few moments, its shadow dancing across the wooden planks as it tried to get closer to the glow of the lantern hanging beside the door. It seemed as anxious to fly into the flames as Logan was hesitant to step into the dark abyss that was Hector’s home.

A virtual eternity passed before Logan finally worked up the nerve to step inside the villa, but he eventually did, the floorboards creaking beneath his leaden weight as he reached for the light switch beside the entrance to the main room.

The light flickered on and there was Hector, sitting as he always sat in his favorite armchair, his electric blue eyes looking back at Logan…or rather, looking right through him. For those blue eyes weren’t truly seeing Logan, nor would they ever see anything else.

The bullet hole in his forehead made sure of that.

Logan’s throat tightened as he processed the scene before him, guessing from the rifle sitting in Hector’s lap that his friend had been prepared to meet trouble. Unfortunately, from the look of things, trouble got to him first.

If anyone were to ask Logan how long he stood there that night in the doorway of Hector’s residence, he would not have been able to tell them. It seemed like an hour, though for all he knew, it could have been as little as a few seconds.

What he did know was that he eventually flew into a blind rage, roaring loudly as he ripped down the bookshelves lining the walls, the vases that once sat atop them crashing down onto the wooden floor and shattering into a million pieces.

And all the while, Hector sat serenely in his chair, staring straight ahead as Logan tore everything around him to shreds.

When there was nothing left for Logan to destroy and everything went sickeningly quiet again, Logan approached Hector’s dead body, and before reaching out to close his friend’s glassy eyes for the last time, finally told him what he was never able to say before…

”Goodbye”.

Logan couldn’t stay there forever, that much he knew. And so, after a few more moments of stillness, Logan turned on his heels and exited Hector’s villa, his mind now preoccupied with one thought and one thought only…finding Marie.

Storming down the steps of the veranda, Logan was so distracted that he ran smack into a young Mexican woman as she made her way up the steps toward Hector’s door. The woman gasped in surprise, stumbling backward from the force of hitting the wall that was Logan’s powerful chest. As he pushed past her, Logan distantly remembered the woman as Esmeralda, Hector’s date from a few nights earlier.

“Hola, Señor Logan,” the raven-haired beauty said, but Logan may as well not have heard her. He was in no mood whatsoever for small talk, and unless the woman was looking to swallow a fistful of adamantium, she was best to leave him the fuck alone.

Logan barely made it a few steps away from Hector’s villa when Esmeralda, still standing on the veranda, called something else out to him in Spanish, prompting Logan to stop dead in his tracks.

Now Logan’s Spanish may not have been the best, but it almost sounded like Esmeralda had asked him if he’d had any luck finding Hector earlier that morning. Which didn’t make any sense, because Logan wasn’t…

“Grrrrrrrrrrr………..”

Logan’s hands balled into tight fists, his back still turned toward Esmeralda as his claws shot out from their casings. His blood began to boil with the anticipation of revenge as he stalked back toward the bike, which was still parked outside the villa he and Marie had shared.

He knew by the blood-curdling scream that rang out into the night the precise moment that Esmeralda finally opened Hector’s door and went inside.

Once back at his and Marie’s villa, Logan leapt onto the bike and kicked it into gear, white sand flying up from beneath the spinning wheels as he sped away. He may not have known where Marie had been taken, but he had a pretty damn good idea who would.

Hours away, in a small rustic cottage in El Viejo, there lived a shape-shifter named Mystique. She was known mostly by reputation, though Logan had had the displeasure of crossing paths with her once or twice. If his memory served him correctly, he knew exactly where to find her.

And that night she was going to be receiving a very, very unpleasant visit.

~*~*~

“…one hundred forty-five…one hundred forty-six…one hundred forty-seven…”

Marie’s voice, raw and scratchy from her fruitless screams, rasped out into the bleak darkness of her essential tomb, all hope starting to leave her as the night wore on. Sitting with her back to one of the jagged walls, her sweat soaked hair clinging to her forehead and temples, Marie could see no way out of her apparent fate.

She’d made a more than valiant effort to escape her holding cell, and even managed to inch her way up the rotting steps of the wooden ladder on her elbows and knees. Her bound hands had pushed and shoved and pounded at the heavy door above her, but to no avail. The door was either too heavy for her to budge or had been sealed so tightly from the outside that her dreams of freedom had officially gone up in smoke.

“…one hundred fifty-nine…one hundred sixty…”

She started counting to distract her thoughts when delirium began to set in, a side effect of her frantic movements coupled with the stifling claustrophobia of her underground prison. Marie ascertained at some point that she must be in a desert somewhere; she suspected this by the extreme heat radiating from the earth around her and the cactus shadow she had seen earlier.

God, it was so dark…Marie couldn’t see her hands two inches from her face. And quiet. There was no echo to her words; it was as though the black abyss had swallowed them the moment they left her lips.

“…one hundred eighty-nine…”

Marie’s breath began to speed up, coming in short gasps as she fought against her mind, which was gradually turning in on itself. All sorts of hallucinations danced before her eyes as she sat curled up against the wall behind her. One wasn’t a hallucination, though. She could see Erik’s face clear as day, sitting before her with that skewed, evil sneer of his, preparing to violate her in the worst ways possible. And the buzz and hum of the machine. That awful machine...

No. It’s not real.

God, it was so hot…Marie could hardly breathe. A tear scorched its way down her cheek as the reality of her situation sank in…Logan was never going to find her here. He couldn’t possibly; she was no doubt being held in an area so remote that there was no way he’d get to her before she was taken to her certain death.

It wouldn’t even be so bad if she were to die that night, right where she sat…from starvation or oxygen deprivation or fever…but the reality was that a much more brutal fate awaited her. She knew that this gradual erosion of her mentality was just the beginning of the torture.

“…two hundred thirty-seven…”

Marie didn’t know what else to do, so she continued counting, folded herself into the corner of her chamber, and prayed for sleep.


~*~*~

It was not long after he heard the clickety-clack, clackety-clack of her high-heeled boots on the stone walk-up that he could smell her blood. Sharp. Fresh. Ripe. He drooled at the sweet taste of revenge before she even opened up the creaky front door of her cottage and entered, whistling and swinging what appeared in the moonlight to be a bottle of wine in her hand.

He could see her svelte blue silhouette, bathed in the moon’s glow as she floated past the antique desk in the front hall and toward the rustic kitchen, whistling all the while. Crouched in the shadows of her modest home, Logan lay in wait, every muscle buzzing and humming with anticipation with every click of her steps on the stone floor…clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clackety-clack, click…

He knew by the abrupt halt in her steps precisely when she smelled the cigar.

The wine bottle went shattering to the floor at the sound of Logan’s ominous growl reverberating throughout the small cottage. Of course, she didn’t know him as Logan…she knew him only as Wolverine.

Mystique didn’t even have time to flip the light switch before Logan was across the room and on her, backing her up toward the wall in a flash of tanned muscle and cold metal. Her jaw nearly cracked under the pressure of Logan’s fingers as he held her by the jugular, baring his teeth as he held her with her toes barely grazing the ground.

“Where is she?” he growled in her ear, so softly it was almost a whisper.

Logan looked deep into the yellow eyes of Marie’s predator and Hector’s murderer. He was practically salivating at the thought of ripping her guts clean from her body. Her face was stiff for a moment, expressionless…then, as he held her throat in his strong hand, those bright yellow eyes were softening…darkening…and Logan found himself lost in two familiar pools of warm chocolate, swimming in an all enveloping gaze that he’d been trapped in before and never wanted to escape.

Gradually, seamlessly, Mystique’s blue skin began to change color beneath Logan’s fingertips, going from indigo to ice blue and then to creamy ivory…and then Logan’s heart ached in his chest as she completed the transformation, her fire red hair growing long and dark and thick, the blue scales that once covered her becoming lighter, shaping themselves into a light blue sundress…

Marie.

“I’m right here, sugar,” she said soothingly, and God, looking into those warm eyes, hearing her loving voice…for Logan didn’t know whether to rip her guts out or sweep her into his arms, kiss her, never let her go. It wasn’t real. He knew it wasn’t; hell, he’d seen the demon morph right before his very eyes. But she looked so real…she smelled so real.

And he so badly wanted it to be real.

Mystique squeaked a little as Logan’s grip tightened around her throat, and Jesus, she sounded so much like Marie. It agonized him to be harming even the image of her, and that was exactly what he was doing. One hand was clamped so tightly around her jugular now that she was beginning to gasp and gulp for air; the other hand was held, claws extended, to her temple, poised and ready to carve her brain right out of her head.

Logan swallowed hard and gritted his teeth, fighting to hold back his emotion as he slowly backed her up so that her back was pressed against the wall. The entire time, her eyes watched him…Marie’s eyes…

Logan growled menacingly as Marie – no, Mystique – steadily held his gaze, her dark eyes all but hypnotizing him with their uncanny resemblance to the real thing. He was playing right into her hand, he knew this. And with everything in him he just wanted to let loose, rip into her…he just couldn’t seem to get his limbs to cooperate.

Mystique, sensing his hesitation, took her chance, knocking his hands away from her and bringing a knee up to strike him hard in the groin.

“FUCK!!” Logan yelled, doubling over in agony. Now free from his grip, she tried to get past him, but Logan’s senses returned, renewed hatred in his blood as he grabbed her roughly by the arms.

Logan growled as he dragged her away from the wall, her high-heeled sandals scraping on the polished stone floor as she scrambled for her footing, and then she was being swung around and sent reeling backward into the plaster column that divided the cottage’s two main rooms. Her head thudded hard against the obstacle and she gasped in pain.

Logan stalked slowly toward a stunned Mystique as she sank Marie’s shapely figure to the floor, wincing in pain as her hand went to the back of her head. A faraway look came about her face as she then held her bloody fingers up in front of her eyes. Logan felt a twinge in his chest at the image. Even her facial expressions were exactly like Marie's.

Mystique snapped out of her haze quickly, her eyes flashing malicious yellow for a moment as she twisted Marie’s beautiful lips into a cold, calculating sneer. Logan was two steps away from her, growling ferociously, when she snaked out her long legs, tangled them in his, and floored him in one fell swoop. Logan winced in pain as his heavy bones went smacking to the stone floor, and then the fight was on, Marie or Mystique or whoever the fuck she was scrambling onto his back as his claws shot out from his fists.

She was stronger and swifter than Logan had anticipated, and she put up a hell of a fight as he tried to subdue her. Furniture came tumbling to the floor as the two wrestled on the floor, Logan’s razor-sharp claws slicing through the air with every roll onto his back. Finally Logan got some leverage on her and succeeded in flipping her onto her back and pinning her under his heavy body.

Logan straddled Marie’s clone now, his hand once again clamping around her throat before giving her a hard slam into the floor.

“TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!!” He barked at her, sweat dripping from his brow as she bucked and kicked beneath him. Mystique’s eyes flashed yellow again and she twisted Marie’s lips into a callous “Fuck you”.

Logan once again slammed Marie’s impostor down onto the hard floor. This time she cried out in pain as her already wounded head smacked against the ground. A small river of blood began to trickle out from behind her head and along the cracks in the floor. Mystique moaned and writhed beneath him, her head throbbing in pain from the repeated blows to it.

“Tell me,” Logan growled through gritted teeth, sliding a claw out from between his index and middle finger and placed the gleaming sharp edge at the top of her ear. Marie’s long, brown hair hung wildly in front of Mystique’s evil eyes as she looked up at him.

“You think killing me is gonna make a difference?” she choked out from behind Marie’s façade, and looking into her yellow eyes for a few moments, Logan saw a sincerity in them as she uttered her first words of truth that night:

“He’s never going to stop hunting her.”

It was a reality that they all knew and one that he and Marie hadn’t wanted to face, not truly. But the bottom line was that no matter where they ran, no matter where they hid, no matter who they pretended to be, Magneto would keep going after Marie until he found her.

For a brief moment, Logan almost felt pity for the cretin in his grip. She’d taken a fair beating from him, and yet still refused to talk. Who knew what kind of horrors that sicko had in store for her if she didn’t follow through on this job. For a moment she looked truly frightened by what lay in store for her.

But that was just for a moment.

Soon her catlike eyes were hardening again, growing rancid with evil as she silently taunted him with the information he sought from her. Then Marie’s flawless skin was bruising all over, turning blue, and in moments Logan was looking at the rodent he’d come to slice up. Logan’s hand constricted around Mystique’s throat again, and she coughed and sputtered for air.

“You gonna start talkin’, or am I gonna have to start removin’ body parts?” he growled, leaning in close to her face. His claw was still poised above her ear and he was so thirsty for her blood that he was practically salivating as he crushed her into the ground. Mystique hardly let a beat pass between them before whispering, “Go to hell.”

The next thing to leave her blue lips was a chilling scream as Logan lobbed her ear right off of her head.

“You PSYCHOTIC SON OF A BITCH!!” she shrieked, her hand flying to the gash in the side of her head where her ear used to be. She kicked and bucked against Logan, writhing in pain as blood sped from between her splayed fingers and down the side of her neck. Logan held her firm against the ground as she twisted in agony beneath him.

Logan’s single bloody claw stabbed into the floor beside Mystique’s head, skewering her severed ear before holding it up in front of her pain stricken face.

“That’s one,” he snarled rabidly.


Thinking back on that night, Logan couldn’t remember how late he’d stayed there, inflicting all sorts of pain and suffering on Mystique. What he did know was that another ear, two eyes, a tongue, and seven toes later, he finally got the answers he was looking for.

Okay, so that wasn’t exactly true. She’d coughed up the truth just as he was in the middle of jaggedly gouging out her left eye. When he was satisfied that she was telling the truth, he took her tongue. He’d taken the rest for spite.

The night sky still loomed outside, but it was getting softer, lighter. Logan knew morning would be arriving soon. The soles of his combat boots were sticky with Mystique’s blood and he stood bare-chested and sweaty before the front window of the cottage, having already disposed of his badly stained shirt.

He listened to the faint sobbing and whimpering of the eyeless, earless, tongue-less freak behind him for a few moments before turning around to take in her silhouette as she sat securely bound to a wooden kitchen chair.

Logan made his way slowly to the front door of the cottage, his eyes never leaving the two bloody holes in her face. As the door swung open, he issued a final warning to Mystique as she sat trembling in her seat.

“If she dies,” he said quietly, because he knew she could still hear good and fine through the ragged cavities in the sides of her head, “I’m coming back for your heart.”

With that, Logan stepped out onto the patio, leaving Mystique blind and mutilated in her own home, and disappeared into the night.


~*~

Chapter 18: Liberty


Marie was pretty certain she had never seen a more beautiful day as the one she was seeing now. Her shadow, long and dark, stretched before her in the scorching afternoon sun of the desert, the dry wind whipping at her long brown locks as she fled her underground prison.

She was free.

The dry, rust coloured sand of the ground sped by beneath her bare feet in a blur, and a surge of elation coursed its way through Marie’s veins as she deftly avoided the cacti and sun-fried shrubbery that dotted the vast, arid expanse. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down, and that she had no idea where she was going mattered not one bit.

A scorching desert sun hung in a cloudless blue sky, setting the skin of Marie’s arms and shoulders on fire. There was no shade in sight, no shelter from the unrelenting rays of hot sun. The red mountains in the distance were hazy and blurred by waves of heat, dizzying Marie as she ran toward no destination in particular. It didn’t matter where she was headed, at any rate. The only thing of importance to her was that she get as far away as possible from wherever she was.

Marie had no idea how long she had been running, only that by the time her feet finally landed on grass, she was so tired and dehydrated she wasn’t sure she’d be able to go any farther. It was the sound of water, somewhere in the distance, that gave her that second wind, that final push...because water meant that there would be boats, and boats meant there would be people...people who could help her .

Tears of relief stung at Marie’s eyes as she raced through the coniferous regions bordering the desert, everything before her appearing as through a kaleidoscope. She revelled in every tree branch that scraped against her arms and legs, every blade of grass that tickled at the soles of her feet, basking in all of the wonderful sounds and sensations that she never thought she would live to experience again.

Marie stumbled and slowed her pace a bit as the earth beneath her grew jagged and sharp, rocks piercing through the spongy dirt and scraping at the bottoms of her feet until the thick bush around her grew sparse and everything beneath her turned to rock. Scraping her way down a steep escarpment, Marie found herself standing on a pebbly coast, perfectly crystal blue water stretching outward as far as the eyes could reach. Stumbling over the rocks, Marie brought a hand up to shield her eyes from the brilliant glow of the Mexican sun and looked out onto the water, hoping against hope to see someone - anyone - who could help her.

She couldn’t help the sob of raw emotion that escaped from deep within her chest as her prayers were answered, and a ship appeared in the distance. It was just a hazy vision at first, the vessel appearing as no larger than a small black dot amidst the thick waves of heat blanketing the horizon; it wasn’t long, however, before the dot was growing larger, closer, and Marie’s heart pounded hard in her chest as as she realized it was turning in her direction.

The sea breeze stole the yelling plea from her lips as she waved her arms above her head in wide arcs, signalling frantically to the ship. Marie couldn’t be certain at first whether or not anyone aboard the ship was able to see her from where she stood, but she finally allowed herself to be hopeful when the long, bellowing sound of the ship’s horn thronged out into the flawless afternoon sky above.

Marie continued to flag the ship for a few more minutes, just to be sure...then, when the horn sounded twice more and Marie was confident that she had been seen, she sank her exhausted body down onto a large rock and waited for the ship to journey the rest of the way along the watery expanse toward the coastline where she sat. The tears she had been holding back finally broke and flooded her cheeks as she awaited her salvation, her petite shoulders starting to tremble as she half-laughed, half-sobbed her relief.

She wasn’t going to die. Not today anyway, and not by Erik’s hand. She was going to live to see the faces of her children and grandchildren; she would live to see many more days as beautiful as this.

It wasn’t until the ship drew close enough for Marie to catch glimpse of the thick blue-grey billows of smoke emanating from its pipes that a sickly feeling crept up on her. Something wasn’t right. Racking her brain, she tried to figure out what was out of place. Everything was perfect...too perfect, almost. But that wasn’t what concerned her most. What concerned her most was that no matter how hard she fought to remember her escape, no matter how clear the details of the the rest of the day...

...she couldn’t remember how she got out .

Tears of joy turned to tears of despair as Marie’s eyes fluttered up toward the too-perfect indigo sky, and then her heart shattered in her chest for the millionth time as her utopia began to crumble, fall apart at the seams. The ship’s horn sounded again as it slowly turned and drifted back in the direction it came from, and a soundless scream of desperation rose from within Marie as the heavens above peeled away in large, jigsaw-like pieces to reveal the infinite blackness, the reality that lay beneath. She hadn’t escaped at all.

Marie’s rested her head back against the wall of her tiny, lightless holding cell, her heart sinking as everything around her returned to how it always was: silent, dark, and solitary.

God, it seemed so real this time, as though her delirium rattled brain had figured out everything that was wrong with the countless hallucinations that came before it, and fixed whatever had been out of place. The sky had always been too blue, or there’d been no birds in the sky, or the surface of the water was too clear and shimmery. Something had always been not quite right, and Marie had known it instantly...and despite that, she had faithfully accepted the illusions, seeing them as her only escape from the demons that were threatening to take over her mind and soul.

The illusions started when she stopped counting, that being the moment that she realized her ring, the plain gold band that Logan had given her, was gone. She had no idea when it had been taken; it could have been right after having been drugged by the blue-skinned woman, or even worse, while she was passed out in this very spot. The point was, she didn’t know when it happened, and when she discovered it missing, her last glimmer of hope disappeared with it. It was the only thing she had left of Logan and his promise to her...and now that it was gone, she had nothing.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true...there was still one thing left. The hope of a quick and painless death this time around. Marie didn’t know how she would endure anything else. She couldn’t go through it all again. Couldn’t endure the beating, the stench of burning of skin, the rats, the god-awful sound and soul-leeching torture of that damn machine.

She’d kept hoping to run out of air in her tiny chamber, to asphyxiate before Erik could even get his hands on her. As the hours passed and she found herself still breathing, she began to accept that it simply wasn’t her fate to die here. The cocksucker had made sure there was barely enough oxygen in her holding cell to keep her alive...there was no way he was going to let her off so easy.

Still tucked into one of the roughed-in corners of her crypt, Marie could feel her strength faltering with each passing second. She could barely even raise her bound hands to wipe the sweat soaked hair from her forehead and temples. She could her Erik’s voice now, icy and evil. As the noise grew inside her head and her breathing grew shallow, she now began to wish for another of those hope offering illusions, if for nothing more than the temporary peace it would bring her; and when it finally came, she welcomed it as her window to a world she would never see again.


~*~*~


She'd better fuckin’ be here, Logan thought to himself as he traversed the half-mile distance from where he parked the bike to where the blue bitch told him Marie was being held captive.

She'd better fuckin’ be here and she'd better be alive.

Having killed the sound of the bike’s engine a fair enough distance from the co-ordinates he’d been given, Logan’s walk across the barren wasteland was just a long enough for the hot desert sun to further heat the blood that already boiled in his veins. Someone was gonna die for this. And it sure as shit wasn’t gonna to be Marie.

He’d been on the road all morning and afternoon; the sun was growing a hazy burnt orange in the sky, sinking closer to the red mountain range bordering the desert as the day drew on. Thick waves of heat blurred the vision of a remote campsite even further as it began to appear in the foreground.

It looked like a campfire at first glance, a shimmering spot of light amidst the ruddy landscape; but as he approached and the hazy vision became closer and clearer, Logan realized that it was in fact the aluminum siding of of a trailer glinting in the hot blaze of the sun above.

His boots crunching on the hard-packed sand beneath him, Logan leaned his bare back against the scorching hot metal of the vehicle’s frame and prowled along its side toward the entrance. As his claws slid out from between his knuckles, he became vaguely aware of the absurdity of the situation. Why would Magneto go to such lengths to capture Marie only to hold her prisoner in a trailer of all goddamn things?

It was only when he approached the entrance to the cabin, poised and ready to rip the rusty door right off its hinges, that one of his steel-toed boots kicked against the ground, shifting something beneath him, and looking down to see what it was, he realized that Marie wasn’t in the trailer.

She was underground.

Logan stepped away from the trailer quietly, stealing a glance over his shoulder at the parked vessel as he used his boots to kick away the red sand that had blown over the iron slab beneath him. Once the massive trap door was completely uncovered, Logan stepped off of it and, sliding his claws back into their housings, bent down to lift the long pair of rusty chains that lay amidst the remaining dusty patches of sand.

Bracing himself, Logan gave the chains a hard pull. His already tired and sweaty muscles worked arduously as he slowly dragged the leaden door out of its place, the edges of the iron slab screeching and shrilling loudly as it scraped against the lip of the entrance.

The unbearable heat inside the tiny crawl space was the first thing that struck Logan as he hastily made his way down the rotting steps of the wooden ladder that descended from the entrance to the ground below, the day’s remaining rays of sun illuminating his way.

And then he saw her, and and something indescribable twisted in his chest as his gaze fell upon the petite woman, clothed in nothing more than a white sundress. She sat folded into one of the dark corners, her eyes focused straight ahead of her, as though she were seeing something that wasn’t there.

“Marie!” Logan breathed out in relief, approaching and kneeling on the rough ground before her. He could hear her soft breaths , quick and shallow, as she stared straight ahead, her eyes glazed over in delirium.

“Darlin?” he whispered, bringing a hand up to touch her face.

“No!” she suddenly gasped, recoiling from his touch, and then her eyes looked into his...latched onto lucidity...and Logan watched as realization started to slowly trickle into her gaze, and then she was coming back to him, the faraway glaze in her eyes finally giving way to clarity.

“Logan...” she said wanly, and then a sob of relief broke from her lips . “Oh, thank G --”

She didn’t even have the time to finish her exclamation before Logan swept her face into his hands and landed his lips on hers, and it wasn’t until that very moment, tangling his fingers in her sweat dampened hair and pulling her even closer to him, that he realized how very much he loved this woman...needed this woman.

They tasted each other hotly and hungrily, and shit, it was taking every ounce of his restraint to pull away from her, but now wasn’t the time to lose his senses. Marie whimpered a bit in protest as their lips parted.

“Hey...” Logan whispered breathily, as he nuzzled his unshaven cheek against hers, rubbing his scent onto her, “...soon’s I get you somewhere safe, I promise I’ll kiss you all you want, baby.”

Logan looked into her eyes and the corners of her mouth curled up into a smile at his words, and God it was like someone had taken his heart, pieced it back together and put it back into his chest. He brought her bound hands up and gently pressed them to his lips, then scooped her up off of the ground, her damp face burrowing into his neck as he carried her up the ladder.

Once they were above ground, Logan laid Marie’s frail body on the dusty earth and slid a claw from his knuckles, preparing to free her of the bonds holding her wrists and ankles together. About to cut the thick rope, Logan suddenly froze when his olfactory senses were slammed with the unmistakable scent of an unwanted presence.

“Not so fast, cowboy,” unfurled a deep, snarling voice from behind them, and Logan knew instantly who it was. Knew even before he turned around to see the spur-heeled boots, the trademark red suspenders...the long, shaggy, unkempt hair..

Logan growled low in his throat and rose to his feet, extending all six claws as he turned to face his adversary. Looking into the opaque black eyes of the hulking man-beast who appeared from behind the trailer, Logan knew he was going to have a hell of a fight on his hands. This was a ruthless feral, as notorious for his bloodlust as for his absolute lack of mercy. Not to mention he was ugly as hell.

Sabretooth.

...Goddammit.

Logan barely had time to finish the thought before his burly opponent swung out a shotgun, cocked the barrel, and fired a loud, echoing shot directly into Logan’s chest. Thrown nearly four feet back by the force of the blast, the next two things Logan was aware of were the grainy scrape of the ground at his back and the twilight magenta of the desert sky above.

Seconds later the pain set in, and Logan let out a roaring yell, twisting on the ground as the excruciating burn of the shotgun bullets ripped into his skin and muscles. His eyes watering, Logan’s hands flew to his bloody chest, frantically scraping the searing pellets from his flesh. A barely conscious Marie could be seen a few feet away from Logan as he turned on his side and coughed, his healing factor finally starting to kick in and do its work on his wounds.

The holes in his chest hadn’t even finished closing up before Sabretooth’s boot was lodged under his chin, his shotgun pointed at Logan’s face. Severely pissed off at this point, Logan growled fiercely, swiping his claws and cutting the barrel in half. The weapon now gone, Logan took another swipe and delivered three deep gashes to Sabretooth’s leg.

Blood sped from the cut tendon, and Sabretooth howled in pain, stumbling backward. Logan took the chance to pounce on him, and then the real struggle began, the two beasts growling and roaring ferociously as they wrestled in the sand, each of them trying to do as much maiming to the other before their healing abilities could recover. Logan was aware only of the alternating vision of sky and sand as they rolled around viciously in combat, Sabretooth’s sharp black claws slicing into his skin as he tried to get leverage on him.

It turned out that Sabretooth got leverage on Logan first, though, crushing him into the dirt and taking a swipe at Logan’s face. Logan caught Sabretooth’s hand just before it made contact, and then he snarled loudly as his eye caught the gleam of something on the feral’s pinky finger.

Something that looked a whole hell of a lot like the gold ring Logan had given to Marie.

Logan bared his teeth rabidly, growling low in his chest as Sabretooth leaned in close to his face, and the burly creature tightened one of his massive hands around Logan’s throat. His fangs revealed themselves in a twisted sneer and Logan could smell the sour, stale stench of his breath as his face drew nearer.

“Your girlfriend owes me a scream,” the beast on top of him thundered, and then something deep within Logan snapped, sending a rush of adrenaline and a vicious roar ripping through his body as he vaulted himself up from the earth. After a brief struggle, Logan managed to roll Sabretooth onto his back, and moments later, had his claws buried fist deep in Sabretooth’s chest.

Sabretooth’s howl rang out into the night as Logan’s claws twisted inside of him, and he writhed in the dirt, gurgling on his own blood. Grunting with effort, Logan used his free hand to snap up Sabretooth’s, singling out his fifth finger.

“This is MINE!!” Logan barked, pulling his bloody claws from the writhing Sabretooth’s chest, and then seconds later, the offending digit was sliced clean off of Sabretooth’s hand. Sabretooth roared in pain, shielding the bone-jagged stump with his other hand as his blood spurted from it. Rising to his feet, Logan removed the gold band from the severed finger, shoving it into the back pocket of his khakis before tossing the bloody appendage onto the ground.

Sabretooth growled loudly, kicking his leg out and knocking Logan onto his front. The wind knocked out of him, Logan managed to scrape to his feet, only to bellow out in pain as he felt the swipe of Sabretooth’s claws in his back. Logan tripped forward a bit, and then the sound of chains could be heard behind him. Before he could turn to face his opponent, Sabretooth had one of the long links wrapped around Logan’s throat.

His claws slicing fruitlessly through the air, Logan began to cough and sputter as Sabretooth growled and grunted in effort behind him, yanking the chains so tightly around his jugular that Logan felt as though his eyes would burst. The two men thrashed about wildly as they struggled, slamming into the side of the trailer and leaving large dents in the aluminum with each loud collision. Logan choked for air as the chain constricted tighter and tighter around his airway, and willed himself not to lose consciousness as stars began to explode before his eyes.

Logan’s fingers clawed frantically at the chains around his neck, trying to get them under the links and make some room for air, but it was useless. The already darkening desert was growing dimmer still as Logan slowly crumpled to his knees on the sandy ground. Wheezing and fighting to breathe, Logan could then feel Sabretooth’s body, crushingly heavy on his back, as he fell forward onto his elbows.

And then, just as Logan could feel the capillaries in his eyes bursting, and just as everything was going black all around him, something gave way. The chains around Logan’s neck loosened a bit, and Logan was suddenly finding it easier to breathe. Choking and gulping for air, Logan pulled at the chains, loosening them; then, as the world came back to him, he realized that it wasn’t him doing all the choking and gasping.

It was Sabretooth.

Logan crawled out from under Sabretooth’s weighty body and turned to face the creature, whose skin had turned a sickly shade of grey, large veins popping out all over his face as he convulsed stiffly. It almost looked like he was getting the life sucked out of him. Then Logan sat up fully and realized that he was.

Marie had managed to inch her way over to where the two had been fighting, where she then slipped her bound hands up one of Sabretooth’s pant cuffs and wrapped her fingers around his bare calf.

Logan could do nothing but sit and stare on in gape mouthed awe as Marie drained Sabretooth’s soul from his body, the fierceness that once characterized the beast’s black eyes now reflected in hers. After a few moments, Marie finally let go, rolling exhaustedly onto her back as Sabretooth’s limp body fell forward into the dirt with a muted thud.

“Son of a bitch,” she coughed out, and Logan couldn’t help the hoarse exhalation that escaped his chest as he scrambled to his feet and rushed over to where she lay.

There was a renewed clarity and alertness in her eyes as Logan knelt over her, unbinding her wrists and ankles. Once her limbs were free, Logan pulled her tightly into his arms, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead before standing her up to her feet.

“Is he dead?” she asked, shivering as she looked past Logan to the lifeless form on the ground. Logan turned to look at Sabretooth’s still body, which was already beginning to turn back to its normal color.

“Not yet,” Logan replied, giving Marie a meaningful look as he slid a claw from between his knuckles.

Marie swallowed, then turned her back as Logan made his way to the near-corpse. Kneeling beside it, Logan yanked the head up by the hair, and heard the faint sound of Marie dry-heaving behind him as he finished the job. Finally, Logan dragged what was left of Sabretooth toward the open trap door, tossing the body and the head into the darkness before raising the chains from the ground and dragging the door back into place.

The threat now gone, Logan made his way over to where Marie stood and folded her into his strong chest. Pressing gentle kisses to the temple and cheek of the woman he thought he’d never see again, Logan wanted nothing more than to look into those gorgeous brown eyes and reassure her that this was the end of it...that it was finally over.

But he couldn’t, because he knew that it wouldn’t be long before Magneto’s henchmen arrived and found Sabretooth’s dead body where Marie’s live one was supposed to be, and then God knew how many of his mercenaries would be surrounding the entire region. They’d be lucky to even make it out of the desert, and if they did, Magneto’s agents wouldn’t be far behind them.

So he couldn’t tell her that it was over. They still had tonight, though...and as he swept Marie up into his arms, breathing deeply of her scent as they made their way back to the bike, Logan decided that for now, that was enough.


~*~

A/N: Yup, I'm finishing it.
***************************************

Chapter 19: Wild Things


"I thought you left me, Marie."

The words were dark, desperate, filled with dangerous need as Logan breathed them against her, his hands and mouth everywhere on her all at once as he pinned her to the trunk of an old oak tree.  Marie could only moan breathlessly in response, her fingers tangled in his thick hair as he devoured the heated flesh of her neck and shoulders, his teeth sinking hungrily into her skin as the crushing pressure of his arousal ground against her aching centre.  

She was laughing or crying or sobbing in relief, which one she couldn't decide anymore and it didn't matter anyway.  All that mattered was that Logan had found her...she was alive, and he was against her, the solid warmth of body pressing into all the right places as the rough bark of the tree scraped at her back.

They'd torn across the desert like bandits that evening, for how many hours exactly Marie had long since lost count; she only knew that by the time the bike finally ran out of gas and sputtered to a stop at the edge of a densely wooded forest, the darkness of night had fallen over a desolate Mexican sky, enveloping them fully in its starlit cloak.

Moonlight rained down on them through the spaces of the leaves above as they breathlessly grappled with each other's clothing, both of them still trembling with adrenaline from their earlier encounter with Sabretooth.  Logan's impatient hands yanked at the straps of Marie's dress as she clawed at the belt of his blood-splattered pants, her frustrated groans matching his as they sought to get as close to one another as possible.

They were on borrowed time.  Marie knew it even if Logan didn't want to say the words.  She could feel it in the intensity of his kisses, all hungry growls and desperate nips, and in the urgency of his touch, his fingers all but bruising her flesh as they squeezed and kneaded her all over though the thin fabric of her dress...

She knew they were on borrowed time, but she didn't care, couldn't care.  She only wanted this moment, this night, to revel in the feel of his fingers in her hair...the beat of his heart against hers...the rough feel of his khakis against the heated flesh of her thighs as she tried to pull him even closer to her, pull him inside of her...

She could smell him, all rage and lust and guilt and need, and something else that Marie couldn't place, but which she somehow knew to be indescribably masculine, and unlike anything she'd ever smelled before.  The thick, musky aroma stuck in the beads of sweat that glistened on his muscles and silky chest hair, making Marie dizzy with lust and reawakening the beast that growled deep inside of her.  She could still feel him - it - inside her head, the feral parts of the beast she'd absorbed earlier...it was rattling against the bars of the mental cage she'd tried to lock it away in, roaring to get out and threatening to take her over completely...

A low growl churned deep in Logan's chest as he lowered Marie to the ground, drawing a sharp gasp from her as he took hold of her hips and forcefully spun her around to face the tree.  Her nose grazed the bark of the oak now as Logan trapped her against it from behind, his arousal pressing insistently into her backside as his body formed a hot, muscular wall at her back.

One of his strong arms slipped around her waist, hauling her fully up against him as his breath puffed hotly against her ear.  Marie whimpered softly as his other hand went to the skirt of her dress, hitching it up over her hips and raising goose-pimples all over her heated flesh in the process.  They were both panting heavily now as Logan's fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties and ripped them downward, almost tearing the seams in his haste as he pulled them down so that they strung across her thighs.  

Marie grunted softly as Logan's fingers found her center, one digit, then two probing deep inside of her as he hastily readied her for him, her hips twisting violently back against him as his thumb brushed over her aching pearl. Then, just as quickly as they entered, the fingers were gone, and Logan was reaching down between them to rip his belt buckle open.

The sound of his zipper was next as he ripped it downward, and before Marie could even breathe his name, he was inside of her, filling her with a single merciless stroke that nearly took her off her toes.

"Logan!"

He gave her no time to recover from the sudden invasion, simply pulled out halfway with a snarl before slamming into her again, his cock stroking so deep up inside of her that she thought she might faint.  Her flesh convulsed wildly all around him, trying to accommodate him as she twisted her hips back against him.  His erection was hot, thick, rampant as she'd ever felt it, and those first few strokes into her had all but brought tears to her eyes.

Marie's hands came up to brace against the tree, her fingernails digging into the bark as Logan began stroking into her in earnest, offering her no mercy as he proceeded to possess her fully.  A warm hand was on her breast now, squeezing and tweaking the nipple through her dress as he drove into her from behind, and Marie thought she would die from the intensity of all the emotions swirling deep within her.

"Oh fuck...Logan..."

It was all she could manage through the sudden heat that flashed through her, her mind scrambling for purchase as an unexpected flood of emotion took over her entire being.  Logan only growled feral in response, his fingers gripping her hips tightly as he pulled her back against his forceful thrusts.  

Suddenly every part of her was on fire, her entire existence winding up into a tight cord deep inside her belly as Logan fucked her against the tree. The swollen head of Logan?s cock had found a spot on the front wall of her sex that turned Marie?s word upside down, and he proceeded to grind against it without mercy.  She reached a hand back, tangling it in Logan's hair as the tears she'd been trying to hold back finally sprang to her eyes, a familiar pressure rising up within her, filling her until she felt a dam would break inside of her.  

Her entire world wound up into a tight cord deep in her belly as Logan continued to stroke into her hard, and then he shoved her mercilessly over the edge, sinking his teeth hard into her shoulder and drawing blood this time as her body bowed against him.  

Marie felt her world splinter into a million pieces as her climax ripped through her.  A shuddering sob wracked her body as Logan wrung her release from her, all of the tension of the last forty eight hours finally finding escape, draining from her body as her legs trembled from the intensity of her quake.

The fluttering of her sex around him seemed to be all that Logan was able to take, because something in him suddenly snapped, and he growled loudly as the last vestiges of his control seemed to slip away.  He slid a hand into her hair and Marie winced slightly as he wound his fingers in the tousled locks, twisting her head until his lips met her ear.  

"He can't have you, Rogue," he snarled darkly, drawing a shiver from Marie as his facial hair brushed against the heated lobe.  "You're mine."

A few more strokes was all he managed before he grunted against her, burying himself completely as his cock throbbing inside of her.  Marie felt a familiar warmth exploding at her center as he unloaded what seemed like gallons of pent up rage deep into her squelching depths.  

Marie leaned her forehead against the tree trunk before her, panting breathlessly as Logan leaked the last of himself into her, his arms still tight around her.  Now completely down from her peak, a new emotion began to swell up in her as the tears in her eyes finally flooded over.

~*~*~

Logan was still trembling uncontrollably, his breathing still coming hard and shaky as the adrenaline began to wear off, reality slowly floating back to him as the haze of his earlier rage subsided.   The smell of blood, sweat, and arousal wafted into his consciousness as the fog over him finally cleared, and he suddenly felt sick as he detected a fourth scent - tears.

"Jesus.  Marie..." Logan struggled to find the words as she trembled against him.  "Darlin', I don't know what the fuck came over me, takin' you like that.  I --"

"No, Logan, it's...I'm okay," she interrupted. "That was okay.  I'm just..."

Her words ended in a sob, and Logan had never before wanted to drive his claws into his own chest the way he wanted to now.  He didn't know what had come over him, taking her so savagely.  He'd been so enraged at what had almost happened to her, it was as though something deep within him had snapped.

It was only when she turned to face him that Logan realised Marie wasn't crying tears of pain or sadness. She was crying tears of joy.

"I'm just so relieved that you found me," she choked out, throwing her arms around his neck, and Logan felt something break inside of him as he crushed her to him.  Burying his nose in the fall of her hair, he breathed her in deeply, his own chest swelling with emotion as her tears soaked his neck and shoulder.

"Hey..." he whispered, pulling back a bit so he could see her face, a hand coming up to wipe her tears from her cheek.  

"Id've gone to the ends of the earth, darlin'," he said.

"I know," she whispered back, looking up at him with those impossibly big brown eyes of hers, and for the life of him, Logan couldn't understand the trust she placed in him, so complete and unwavering.  Everywhere he went, he left death and destruction in his wake; he'd never had anything good to give to anyone, and knew for a fact he'd never done anything to even remotely deserve the look she held in her eyes for him.

One thing he knew for certain, however; and that was that when they got out of this - and they were going to get out of all of this, somehow - Logan was going to pay Magneto back dearly for every tear he'd seen Marie cry.

Pulling her into him again, Logan leaned down to catch her mouth with his, crushing his lips to hers before coaxing them open with the rough of his tongue.  Marie moaned softly into him as her arms tightened around them, their embrace growing passionate as desire took over once more.

A hungry growl rolling up from his chest, Logan lowered Marie to the grass, smothering her body with his as he lay over her.  She opened up easily for him as he slid a hand up the skirt of her dress, releasing a claw to do away with what little remained of her panties.  Logan looked down into her eyes as the warm metal brushed over her skin.  

"I love you, Marie," he said, watching as her eyes filled with tears at his words.  "I love you so goddamn much, darlin'."

Logan wasn't even completely certain that he knew what the words meant, but he knew how they felt twisting deep in his chest.  This was the only thing he'd felt in the fifteen years that he could remember that had been stronger than his urge to kill, the only soft thing he had in a world that had been nothing but hard to him.  

Marie swallowed lightly, one of her hands coming up to touch his cheek, fingers combing lightly through the hair there as she looked up at him.  "Prove it," she whispered, eyes shining up at him, and it was a request he was most happy to oblige.

Settling himself between her legs, he slid a hand up into her hair and covered her mouth with his as he entered her for the second time that night, the slick evidence of their earlier coupling easing his way as he sank to the bottom of her sex.

Her legs came up to lock around his waist, preventing his escape as she clenched all around him.  With a tortured groan, Logan drew out of her almost all the way, her sex clinging greedily to him as he did so, encouraging him ever deeper into her.  Her eyelids fluttered shut, her head lilting backward as Logan began to work his stroke into a rhythm older than time itself.

Christ, he'd wanted to be softer and sweeter this time around, but his body had different ideas, the beast raging up within him once again as he plunged her depths.  Truth was the savage part of him - the part that couldn't always be controlled - didn't want to be gentle with her.  

That savage part of him - the animal -wanted to draw every goddamn beautiful scream, moan and whimper from those gorgeous lips that he possibly could, to feel her alive and against him in every way.  He couldn't get enough of the sounds she was making, the feel of her clamping down all around him, the taste of her blissful tears as he licked them away from her closed eyelids...

"Oh...God!  Don't stop, Logan," Marie suddenly gasped, their lovemaking suddenly took on a feverish pulse.  Her fingernails nails dug hard into his lower back, legs clamping even tighter around him as he thrust mercilessly into her.  The scent of their lovemaking was thick all around them now, dizzying Logan as he drove her toward the edge of her release.

"Oh yes, Marie," Logan growled as her sex began to pump uncontrollably around his rigid flesh, signaling her second climax of the evening. A renewed sense of lust and possessiveness gripped Logan hard as he slid his hands under her ass, pulling her up against him.  He could feel his release pooling hotly at the base of his balls and knew he wasn't going be able to hold back much longer. 

A few more shaky thrusts and his fight was lost.  Logan hilted himself inside of Marie, the head of his cock nudging against her cervix as he growled and let go.  An unrestrained shout of pleasure tumbled from his lips as the waves of pleasure rolled over him, his entire world shattering to pieces as he came.  He felt like his entire body was turning into liquid, melting up into her steaming depths, and it took everything in him not to release the claws right then and there.    

Panting exhaustedly, Logan collapsed, spent, on top of Marie.  Her hands in his hair, she gently caressed the unruly locks back from his damp face as he rested his head on her chest.  Watching, sleepily, as the moonlight danced through the leaves above, dotting the white fabric of Marie's dress, it was almost easy to forget the hell they were in.  Almost.  It took just one simple question from Marie to bring it all back.

"What's going to happen to us, Logan?" she asked.

Logan looked up at her, a million different answers coming to mind, before he settled on the right one: the truth.

"I don't know, darlin'," he answered after a long pause.  "I don't know."

~*~

Chapter 20: The Stand


Logan's eyes blinked open five seconds before the coo of the mourning dove pierced the near silence of the day. Sunlight streamed down in long golden cords through the leaves of the trees above, falling down onto the grass all around him and leading his senses into consciousness as he awoke to find himself wrapped around a still sleeping Marie.

Stirring lazily, he pulled her tighter against him, nose tucked into the soft curve of her neck as he drowned himself in her scent. She smelled like she was his again, and Logan only wanted to stay there, immersed in her forever. He could hear as much as feel her heart beating, steady and serene in her chest, and the soft sound comforted him, lulled him, almost pulling him back into the dream he was certain they'd shared.

Brushing a thumb over one of her temples, he pressed kisses to the other, gently coaxing her awake even as he considered drifting back into slumber with her. She only sighed softly, snuggling closer to him, and...

...wait. Sunlight?

Logan bolted upright in the grass, the last shreds of his blissful haze ripped away as the memory of everything that had happened the night before came slamming down onto him like a ton of bricks. Fuck. How long had they been sleeping?

"Sugar...?" Marie finally awoke, her voice thick and fuzzy with sleep as she turned over in the grass. Logan looked down at her distractedly as she sat up halfway, pulling the strap of her dress back onto her shoulder. He may just as well have not heard her; he was too preoccupied studying the sounds of the forest around them.

An uneasy feeling crept over Logan as he looked away again, quietly surveyed their surroundings. They should have been on the move hours ago, Logan knew that, but it wasn't what had him so suddenly on edge. It wasn't what made his blood suddenly speed up in his veins, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, sending a prickle of warning down his spine. Something had woken him. And it wasn't the mourning dove.

"Logan, what's wrong?" Concern filled Marie's voice now as she picked up on his tension, and she sat up fully beside him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. Locking his eyes on hers, Logan held a finger up to her lips, shushing her as she watched him in puzzlement. And then they both heard it:

*snap*

Marie's eyes widened in panic as she recognized the sound of a twig breaking under what was, unmistakably, a human footstep. Another prickle of warning struck Logan as he suddenly detected a sharp change in the wind. Almost before he could react, a tranquilizer dart sliced through the trees, narrowly missing his shoulder before splitting into the bark of the tree beside him.

"Let's go!" Logan growled, grabbing Marie by the wrist and yanking her up from where they sat. She reacted swiftly, gripping Logan's hand tightly as they bolted, her bare feet keeping pace with Logan's booted ones as they ran from their unseen attackers.

The forest trees sped by them in a green blur as they gave wild chase to their predators, Logan's heart pounding hard in his chest as the sound of footsteps multiplied behind them.

"Keep running!" Logan panted, letting go of Marie's hand. She obeyed, disappearing into the thick bush as Logan turned to face the coming threat. A roaring growl rose up from his chest, his claws ripping out from between his knuckles as the familiar burn of adrenaline began to flood his veins.

He was ready for the first two before they even spilled out from between the trees, their black masks hiding their startled expressions as they ran right into Logan's claws. Logan surrendered fully to the feral within as he swiped the sharp metal across their midsections, splitting them both open in one bloody strike.

No sooner had the two fallen to the ground, groaning their last agonizing breaths as their intestines spilled from their bodies, than a third mercenary emerged from the bush. This one reacted quickly to the scene, his grip tight on his dart gun as he took a shot at Logan.

Logan yelled out in pain as the tranq seared past his bicep, the sharp needle splitting the flesh open as it sped by him. He stumbled backward a bit, a sudden haze falling over him as the poison took effect. Before he could shake it off, his enemy was on him, knocking him to the ground and pressing the long barrel of the gun toward Logan's throat.

His senses quickly returning, Logan grabbed hold of the gun, gripping it horizontally as he pushed back against the man on top of him. A low growl rattled in Logan's throat as he struggled for leverage, his muscles burning as he fought against the pressure of the man's hold. Just as it seemed he was losing out, a sudden burst of adrenaline shot through his veins, and he shoved hard, launching up from the ground and slamming the man backward into a tree.

Before the masked man could get his bearings, Logan had the claws of both his fists buried in his chest, impaling him against the tree as a roaring growl sprang from deep within him. A strangled sound came from the man's throat as he choked on his own blood. Logan twisted his claws sharply, allowing the mercenary little mercy as he quickly ended his life. He then pulled his claws out, the once gleaming metal now dripping with the blood of his opponent, and the lifeless body slumped to the ground.

His chest heaving over panted breaths, Logan's turned and continued running, the thudding footsteps of even more mercenaries following close behind him as he tracked Marie's scent. Christ, there had to be dozens of them. Logan's pulse sped wildly in his veins as he zigged and zagged through the trees, trying to lose them.

Marie's scent was growing stronger now, leading the path before him as the footsteps of the mercenaries began to fall farther and farther behind. He finally saw her, running up ahead, her dress a white flash of light among the green of the forest.

"Marie!" he called to her, and she slowed her pace a bit, allowing him to catch up to her. He took her by the hand again, pulling her along as they ran in tandem, her panted breaths matching his as she struggled to keep up with his pace.

Just as it seemed they were about to outrun their enemies, another dart split through the trees, this time hitting Logan square in the shoulder and forcing a growl from him as the sting of the needle ripped through his muscle. Moments later the poison set in, Logan's limbs growing suddenly heavy under its effects.

His foot hit a rock and he tripped, losing his balance and falling down a small hill. Marie, still holding onto him tightly, came tumbling down with him, her body toppling over his as they rolled down the slope. They came to a stop at the bottom, Logan sprawled on his back as Marie's hand went to a cut on her forehead, where it had scraped against a fallen branch. Logan reached a heavy hand around to his shoulder, yanking the dart out of the stinging flesh as the haze from the tranquilizer slowly cleared.

"It's okay. I'm okay," Marie rasped as Logan scrambled over to her. Logan tried to stand her up, only to hear her cry out, her hand going to her ankle as her face screwed into a grimace of pain.

"I must've twisted it, " she said. She sat back down as Logan knelt before her.

"Flip it on," he said, wrapping his hand around her ankle. 'Let me heal it."

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"Marie, we have to go!" he yelled.

"No!' she protested, just as forcefully. "I'll hurt you!"

"Goddammit! Marie --" Logan began, then he stopped himself as registered the fear in her eyes, realized she was right. There was no telling if or how long he would be knocked out, and then he wouldn't be much help to her. Besides, they had no time to argue now, not with the sound of footsteps growing louder as the men approached.

With a low growl, Logan scooped Marie up, her arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders as he darted through the trees, their attackers hot on their heels as they ran toward a clearing. They came to the edge of the woods, the leaves above giving way the blinding light of the sun as they emerged from the darkness of the forest.

Logan was forced to stop suddenly as the ground beneath them ended at a steep cliff, his feet nearly slipping over the edge and sending them tumbling down into the rushing waters of a river far below.

"Over there!" Marie rasped, nodding over Logan's shoulder. Logan turned to where she was pointing. About a hundred feet from them, a rope bridge stretched across the chasm, connecting the two cliffsides.

Adrenaline pounded hard in Logan's veins now as he ran for the bridge, the thudding footsteps of their attackers following behind them as the men spilled out from the trees and onto the cliff.

"Go," he said, setting Marie down on the bridge. "Keep going!"

Marie began limping across the bridge. Logan spun around, sliding a claw out from between his knuckles and making a quick assessment of the bridge's construction before beginning to snip away at the supporting ropes. The bridge swayed beneath them as he backed up slowly onto the bridge, snipping the ropes one by one as he went.

The men approached the bridge. One of the mercenaries stepped onto it, his stance tight on his gun as he took aim at Logan. Logan snarled loudly, drawing a claw closer to the rope, and the man backed off again, realizing that one more snip was all it would take to throw the bridge off balance and send them all to their watery deaths.

Logan kept a watchful eye on the men lining the cliff as he stood in the center of the bridge, holding them at bay as he waited for Marie to finish crossing over to the other side. The swaying motion of the ropes stopped then, as Marie’s movements suddenly halted behind him.

“Keep movin’ darlin’,” Logan called out to her.

“I can’t,” she said, and a sickly feeling crept up on Logan as he registered the frightened tone in her voice. “Look.”

Logan slowly turned to face the other side of the cliff, his heart sinking to the bottom of his chest as he processed the scene. Dozens of mercenaries lined the edge of the escarpment on the other side of the bridge, with even more of them pouring out from between the trees, swarming the edge of the cliff.

They’d run straight into a trap.

The men stood poised to shoot, rifles joining alongside dart guns as they surrounded their prey. Logan went to Marie, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into him as a low growl rolled in his throat. All three claws of his other hand were drawn now as he held them above the final balancing rope of the bridge. The man who appeared to be the leader of the group called out to Logan.

“You’re not going to win this one, Wolverine,” the masked man said. “Let the girl go.”

Logan only held Marie closer to him, her face burrowing into his chest as her heart beat wildly against his. One of the mercenaries tightened his hold on his rifle.

“I’ve got a shot, sir,” he called out to the foreman, centering Logan in the view-finder of his gun.

“Stand down,” Logan heard the foreman say.

"Oh God," Marie breathed against his chest. 'Don't let them take me, Logan. Please..."

“I’m taking it…” said the marksman, preparing to shoot.

“I said stand down!” the foreman shouted, a hand outstretched as he ordered his men to hold fire, evidently wanting this to end with as little bloodshed possible. He turned his attention back to Logan.

“We know you’ve got to be tired of running, Wolverine,” the foreman said. The words cut into Logan like a knife. He clutched Marie tighter to him, if that was even possible, the smell of her fear rising up all around him as her tears soaked his shoulder.

“Moving around, drifting from place to place," the man continued, "with no idea who..."

“Shut up,” Logan heard himself growl through clenched teeth.

“…or what you are…”

"You shut up!" Logan barked, his eyes filling with burning tears of rage as his claws trembled over the rope.

He was trying to be brave for Marie, but the truth was he'd never felt so furious, so frightened, so powerless as he did at right now. They were but two lonely soldiers, fighting a war they couldn't possibly win, a war that the world at large didn't even know was brewing.

A caged feeling began to creep over Logan, closing in on him as he considered his options, which weren't many. He could cut the bridge down and they could take their chances at escape in the rushing waters below, but how long would it be until Magneto and his men caught up to them again?

That metal-bending freak was going to find them eventually, and he would twist Logan's so-called indestructible bones into knots with all the effort of a toddler, and then where would they be? How could he protect Marie, as he'd promised he would?

The water rushed below. Logan's blood pounded hard in his ears, drowning out everything but the maddening whispers in his head, the clearest of which were the words of Mystique, just before he cut her tongue out of her mouth:

...He's never going to stop hunting her...

The suddenly remembered words sank like a stone inside of Logan, his heart dropping like an anchor to the pit of his stomach as the answer became clear. An answer that was perhaps always there, but one that Logan couldn't see, didn't want to see...until now. Mystique was wrong. Magneto would stop hunting Marie.

There was one way he would stop hunting her.

The foreman spoke again, his words cutting into Logan's thoughts and pulling him back to the present moment.

"It's not too late to make a deal, Wolverine," he said. "The girl. In exchange for your past."

And just like that, the offer was laid out before him. An offer that, when he thought about it, had never truly left the table: his life for hers.

Logan's claws slid slowly back into their housings, a sickening calm falling over him as he drew his hand back from the edge of the rope. Marie, sensing the sudden stillness within him, drew her face away from his chest and looked up at him.

After a few long moments, Logan tore his eyes away from the commander, meeting Marie's gaze as his heart thumped painfully in his chest. His hands came up to cup her face, his thumb sweeping gently over her cheek as her eyes glistened with tears.

Logan searched her eyes, saw her fear...but beneath that, he could see nothing but trust in there, nothing but love. And though he knew he didn't have to, he whispered three little words to her.

The tear that had been threatening to spill over finally broke as Logan spoke the simple words, sliding down Marie's cheek and over his thumb as she nodded solemnly. Before another tear could fall, Logan hauled her fully up against him, bringing her lips up to meet his.

It was their first kiss, it was their last kiss, and it was every kiss in between. Logan crushed Marie to him, bloody hands going to the back of her head, fingers sliding up into the silken locks of her hair as he smothered her mouth with his.

He kissed her like a dying man tasting his last sweet breaths, his lips moving desperately over hers as he swallowed the sudden sob of emotion that escaped her chest. Their embrace stretched into eternity, Logan losing himself completely in Marie as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. Time stood still for them, everything disappearing until it was just him, just her, and the gentle sway of the bridge beneath them.

The kiss ended too soon. It wasn't enough, could never be enough. Logan pulled back from their embrace and pressed his lips to her forehead for one long, final moment before pulling her back into his chest. Her tears spilled onto him again as Magneto's men stood on either side of the bridge, guns poised and ready to fire, awaiting Logan's response to the foreman's offer.

Logan held Marie against him, a hand twisting in her hair again as his claws slid slowly out from between the knuckles of the other, metal scraping against bone as they extended to full length at his side. His eyes met the commander's as he made his final decision. No more running...it was time to take a stand. This was going to end. Right here. Right now.

"You," Logan said, nodding his chin toward the foreman as Marie sobbed against him. "I want you to go back and deliver a message to your boss."

The men tightened their grips on their guns as he spoke.

"You go back and tell Magneto..." Logan said, the hand at his side closing into a fist as his heart twisted deep in his chest,

"...the deal's off."

The men realized too late what he meant to do. Their yells of protest filled the air as Logan drew his claws back and swung, a roaring growl rising up from within him as he allowed the beast to take him over completely.
Everything went silent around them then, as the shouting from the mercenaries suddenly stopped, their hands frozen on their guns as they looked on in stunned silence.

The bridge swayed beneath them. Logan's eyes squeezed shut as he held Marie in his embrace. His hand caressed the back of her head, tugging gently at her hair as she breathed warmly against his collarbone. After what seemed like an eternity, she raised her head from his chest, looked up at him. Logan finally opened his eyes to meet hers.

He had to have made the kill at least a thousand times in the years he could remember...and yet nothing he'd ever done or seen could have prepared him for the feeling that wrung deep inside him as he watched her eyes widen in pain and her mouth open to speak his name...only to be silenced again as a trail of crimson dripped from the corner of her lips.

Logan yanked her tighter against him, a grunt his lips as he sank the claws further, impaling her fully. A strangled sound came up from her throat as she choked, a drunken look welling up in her eyes along with the tears as she surrendered to him, surrendered to the pain.

Logan pulled his claws from her belly, and she stumbled backward a bit, hands flying to the the three gashes in her dress as blood sped from between her fingers. Logan grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her as she looked up at him, a heartbreaking mix of shock and pain on her face as the smell of death began to rise up all around her.

Logan's eyes filled with tears as her eyelids fluttered shut, knees finally collapsing beneath her. He caught her, sweeping her up into his embrace, her hair spilling over one bicep and her legs draping over the other as her body went limp against him.

The bridge swayed beneath them. Magneto's men watched, speechless, as Logan held Marie's body up before them, her once white dress covered with her own blood as she lay, boneless, in his arms. Before they could even react to the shock of the scene before them, Logan hoisted Marie's lifeless body over the side of the rope bridge and let go, her body tumbling down into the rushing river below in a mass of white fabric and twisted limbs.

Logan stood on the bridge alone now, his claws dripping with Marie's blood. He turned to face the men, his head spinning as the sun blazed hotly above him. His chest felt heavy, the air around him suddenly too thick to breathe. His hand trembling, Logan slowly raised his claws for the men to see. Then he housed them again, the metal snapping back into his knuckles with an audible snikt.

The sound was what seemed to finally jog the men out of their shock. The commander gave his signal, and they fired, showering Logan with a hailstorm of bullets. It wasn't be the first time he'd ever been shot, but it would be the first time he welcomed the white hot burn of the slugs, his body registering almost no pain as the bullets tore into his flesh.

Logan's body slumped against the side of the bridge, his world quickly growing distant as the rope twisted beneath his heavy frame. It finally gave way to his dead weight, and he fell over the side, plunging into the river below...

...and following Marie into darkness.

~*~

Chapter 21: Three Little Words


The report arrived on Magneto’s desk that afternoon. Silver-haired and cloaked in royal purple, he’d been standing before the window when it arrived, looking out at a world he believed to be on the verge of great change. A man old enough to have seen his share of wars past yet young enough to look forward to the best to come, he’d long dreamed of one day becoming the father of the new era.

This was not to happen today, however. He knew this the moment the dark-clothed figure appeared in the doorway of his study, two file folders in hand. Still turned toward the window, he signaled for the man to enter, gleaning all he needed to know in the somber footsteps crossing the room. The agent placed the files on the desk and stood back, waiting to be addressed. Magneto let the reports sit on the polished marble for a long moment before approaching to look at them.

He looked down at the first report, tapping a fingertip lightly on the brown cover before opening it to review its contents. He lifted a white sheet of paper from the file, his jaw tight as he read the simple information typed on it in black ink:

File No. X-71484
Subject Name: Rogue (surname unknown)
Vital Status: Deceased
Cause of Death: Fatal stab wounds to abdomen; drowned...

He skimmed the details of the incident before turning to the second report:

File No. X-25243
Subject Name: Wolverine (surname classified)
Vital Status: Deceased
Cause of Death: Fatal gunshot wounds to chest and abdomen; drowned...

“If that’ll be all, sir...” The agent bowed his head and turned to leave as Magneto looked over the reports, silently processing the information. He was almost out the door when Magneto stopped him with a question.

“Were the bodies recovered?”

The man turned back to face him. “No. But...”

He stopped then, perhaps because he’d seen the glint of hope in Magneto’s eyes as he quickly looked up from the report. He held the man in his glare, waited for him to finish. The agent cleared his throat before continuing.

“It’s just... I was there, sir. Saw the girl’s life bleed away right before my own here two eyes. And as for the other one...Wolverine, is it? Well...I don’t need to tell you that my men are sharp shooters. And they pumped him right full of bullets.”

Magneto looked down again at the open reports on his desk.

“If you want my professional opinion, sir,” the agent finally said, “There ain’t no way in hell anyone coulda survived what happened today on that bridge.”

The agent turned to the door again, leaving Magneto in silence. He sifted through the contents of the first file until he came across a photograph. He lifted it and looked at the girl in the picture old enough to have borne the ills of the world and too young yet to have realized her potential, her ultimate glory in the new dawning.

That dawning would need to wait, how long he couldn’t know. His dream now as dead as the young woman whose photograph he thumbed, he would once again go back to watching...waiting...and preparing for the tide to turn again.

With that thought firmly in mind, Magneto unlocked the filing cabinet beside his desk and put the folders in their respective slots, where they would remain with the other closed files and lost dreams.

~*~*~

His eyes had opened up again before his body even hit the water, wounds closing up as the searing bullets exited his flesh and rained like a hailstorm into the rushing river below. Scrambling for his senses, he’d barely had enough time to take a desperate gulp of air before plunging in after them, his heavy body thrown about effortlessly by the violent crash of the waves as he struggled to get his bearings.

The river thrashed him, tormented him, threatening to swallow him whole as it careened his along its path. Logan’s body ached as he fought the waters to no avail, grasping for something, anything, to slow the onslaught. Over and over he turned with the waves, sky and sea becoming one in his vision as he gasped and gulped for air.

Realizing too late that the river up ahead was about to end in a sharp drop, there was little he could do to brace himself for the fall. He grasped fruitlessly at an overhanging tree branch as the water forced him toward the edge. Digging his heels into the increasingly shallow water, Logan tried to stop from going over the lip of the escarpment, but the force of the water combined with the slippery surface of the rocks proved too much even for his reflexes. He lost his grip and went over the edge, nearly buried by the force of the waterfall as he crashed down into the lagoon below.

Waving his arms through the blue water, Logan swam up toward the light and broke the surface, sucking a deep gulp of air into his burning chest. Treading his arms to stay afloat, he coughed and gasped as he took a moment to catch his breath. When his senses finally snapped back, he filled his lungs with air and dove beneath the surface. The silence of the calm water closed in around him like a murky blue cloak as he drifted down to the bottom of the lagoon. Swimming around the perimeter of the small pond, he stayed under as long as his lungs would allow, scouring the depths and finding nothing.

Logan drifted up to the surface of the water and filled his lungs again before diving back down to the floor of the lagoon. Still, he could find nothing, and a sense of desperation began to knot his stomach as he searched to no avail. He was almost two minutes into the second dive, and quickly losing hope, when he found what he was looking for.

She was an angel if he ever saw one, a vision in white amidst the deep blue as she rested at the bottom of the lagoon, her hair and dress floating up all around her as though in a dream. Logan drifted down toward Marie and got behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He used his legs to propel them back up to the surface, breaking it with a loud gasp as he sucked a fresh gust of air down into his lungs. Marie’s head lolled back onto his shoulder as he caught his breath.

“C’mon,” he whispered, patting a gentle hand to her wet cheek. “Come on...turn it on, baby.”

Logan closed his eyes and waited for the pull. Waited for her to take what she needed from him, take all of him. It was the only good thing he could see left in all of this, to be swallowed completely by her, to give up all the world and everything his soul had ever known, if even to become a mere part of her.

“Come on, Marie,” Logan said when nothing happened. He’d been careful not to spear any vital organs, so she should still be alive...albeit barely. Hand cupping her face, he pressed his warm cheek to her cool one as he held her against his chest. “Breathe.”

Again he waited for something to happen, and again there was no reaction from Marie’s skin. His breath tight in his throat, Logan drifted toward the bank of the lagoon and hoisted Marie up and out of the water, her hair and dress clinging to her soaked skin as they collapsed onto the grass.

Logan quickly sat up and straddled Marie’s hips, hands going to her chest as he began to pump her lungs. Water dribbled up from Marie’s lips and spilled down onto the grass as Logan worked on her, panic swirling deep within him as he silently willed her to wake up.

When her lungs were clear, Logan leant down and covered her lips with his, breathing down into her chest. He sat back up, hands returning to her breastbone as he started to pump again, a desperate growl on his lips as he worked on her.

Christ she was pale. Paler than he’d ever seen her...and cold. She was so damned cold. Logan knew he was pressing down too hard on her small frame, but he couldn’t stop. All he needed was one pulse, one goddamn beat...

He bent forward again to place his mouth on hers, fingers sliding up into her wet hair as he breathed into her lungs once more. Hands going back to her chest, he resumed pumping, but knew there was no point. Logan felt his insides crumbling as he collapsed on top of Marie, all sorts of scenarios spinning through his mind as he cradled her lifeless body to him.

He’d missed his mark by an inch, punctured her lung. He’d taken too long to get to her, she’d drowned fully. There had been too much blood, her heart had failed... Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter now. He’d fucked up and now she was gone. A roaring growl tore from Logan’s chest he clutched her to him, claws shooting forth from the knuckles of one hand as he stabbed them into the ground beside her.

Logan dragged Marie’s limp arms up around his shoulders, his tears soaking her neck as he shook against her. He wasn’t a hero, he was an animal. A goddamn animal. Probably always had been for all he knew, except that someone had finally gotten it in their head to give him claws.

If he’d only kept his hands off her in the first place she would be alive and warm and safe in New York, not cold and dead in his arms as she was now. Holding her against him, Logan sobbed into the grass, his insides twisting with grief.

I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. It was the only way...

The thought had barely formed in his mind when a sudden spark of white heat ripped through him, starting in his toes and spreading through his body like an inferno. He felt numb, couldn’t breathe, and knew he wouldn’t want to even if he could. He felt his body prickling all over as he instinctively fought the tug at his consciousness...and then an almost peaceful sense of release washed over him as he finally gave himself over to the seductive pull, his entire world spinning as his soul swirled down into the abyss.

He was plunging down into the bottomless black, past the point of no return...and then, suddenly something was coming in through the black, opening it up, and he was not alone anymore...she was not alone anymore...he was there with her, wrapping his soul around hers as he snatched her back from the brink, and then they were careening back into the light, and though in the end she hadn’t been afraid to die, she let the him pull her back, let him carry her on those three little words he spoke to her on the bridge just before the adamantium sliced into her flesh. Three little words...

Trust me, Marie.

The light was splitting into the black now, rushing down into the very depths of her being. She felt like she was bursting from the inside out. Too much, it was too much to hold in, the life force bursting in through her every pore, splitting her apart...

Marie’s eyes snapped open, her pupils narrowing painfully at the brilliance of the sun above as a burning gust of air rushed down to the bottom of her lungs. Cold, wet, and shaking, it took a moment for her to sort through the foreign thoughts in her head and realize that Logan was still wrapped around her. Regaining her control, she switched off and pushed him away from her, his convulsing body rolling over onto the grass beside her.

Marie blinked down at Logan for a moment, scanning his memories and putting together what had happened. Her eyes blurred with tears as she used her new strength to pull Logan into her arms. Fingers combing gently through his hair, Marie held him as he shook against her and waited for him to come back to her...because she couldn’t wait to look into the beautiful hazel eyes of the man who, so that she would never need to feel fear again, had been willing to sacrifice everything for her - everything including her - and tell him...

...it worked.

~*~