She stared at the man sitting in front of her. For the past five hours they had been sharing this tiny space with each other. He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t even looked at her. As soon as the elevator had jammed the man the rest of the world knew as Wolverine, and she as Logan, had sat down, leaned his back against the wall and apparently fallen asleep, covering over half of the tiny floor with his massive bulk in the process. She had managed to squirm down between his bent knees, facing him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Nothing?”
“You’re staring at me. I can feel it. Stop it.”
“I’m not staring at you. I’m staring at your nose hair. I’m sure I have tweezers in my bag somewhere…”
“Forget it.”
“Forget it? For crying out loud, you could twist them in to a bun if you wanted! How the hell can you even breathe through that thicket?”
“I can breathe just fine.”
“Hmph.”

She leaned back and huffed. She’d go nuts soon. There was nothing to do, and every time she dared to move Logan cracked his eyes open, eyeing her suspiciously before falling back to his ‘I’m-slumbering-so-keep-your-goddamned-trap-shut’ –routine. Her eyes traveled on their own volition over his features, stopping to the general direction of his ear. More precisely his left ear.

“What is it now?”
“What? Nothing. I wasn’t…”
“Staring? Yes, you were.”
“I was just thinking… You rely much to your hearing, right?”
“Not more than any other. I just happen to have sharper senses than most of the people.”
“What would you do if I told you that I could sharpen your senses even more? Hone them to perfection?”
“Leave my hairs alone!”
“But there’s so much of them. Just look at your eyebrows for example.”
“My eyebrows? What’s wrong with those?”
“Umm… They’re… You do know that average person’s supposed to have two eyebrows? You have one. And it’s thick. Bushy. What if it gets in to your eyes just as you’re about to…”
“What the fuck is this? Are you trying to turn me in to Summers the Second? I’m hairy and I’m kind of attached to each and every one of those hairs!”
“I’m not talking about shaving your chest. I’m just saying that you could use a little trimming…”
“I’m not a fucking poodle!”
“Hmph… Men.”

Logan stared at her for a moment before settling back, closing his eyes again and crossing his arms over his chest. Now, there was a set of hairy arms she could really appreciate. Those black, wiry hairs were exactly where they were supposed to be. Skin and muscles of his forearms shifted a bit, then three distinctive ridges appeared on the backs of his hands. She swallowed and eased back. Let go of the zipper of her bag. Logan’s lips curled to a crooked smile.

“People think you’re scruffy.”
“That’s their problem. And what does it matter to you?”
“You brought me here. I don’t want them to start thinking that I’m scruffy too.”
“And they say that I’m paranoid… Anyway, tough luck, kid. Even if you scalded me it wouldn’t do much good. Everything just grows back.”
“Well, eventually. But in the meantime you’d look good.”
“Yeah. The whole fucking two seconds.”
“Two… Are you serious?”
“Apparently they’re somehow vital for my surviving. Can’t really see why, but…”

Logan shrugged his shoulders and opened his eyes, fixing the hazel stare to her hands that had started to creep towards her bag once more. He raised his brow. Suddenly he huffed.

“What the heck… Try for yourself if you don’t believe me.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay…”

She dug up her tweezers and scooted to a better position in front of him. Logan eyed the metal instrument with suspicion, but let her use it. She plucked out hairs from his nose. Logan sniffled and wriggled his nostrils. She tilted her head.

“Unbelievable!”
“Told you so.”
“But… How the hell is that even possible? And why haven’t you grown a beard and hair to fit Methuselah while we’re here?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“And I thought I had it rough because I have to shave my legs every morning.”

For a moment they sat in silence, staring at each other.

“I really said that, didn’t I.”
“Yeah.”
“Crap.”
“So that’s why my razors keep disappearing.”
“Uhh… There’s this really cool series on Discovery about monster trucks, have you seen it?”
“Trying to change the subject?”
“Could we? Please?”

She sighed and glanced at her watch. Nine thirty. Nine thirty pm. She tried to settle down more comfortably and turned to look at her companion.

“So… You come here often?”
“Every now and then. Cool place to hang out. You?”
“I would have thought that Summers fixed this goddamned contraption after last time.”

Logan shifted, nearly crushing her fingers under his dusty boots and slammed the wall of the elevator with his palm. Noise echoed from the metal.

“Could you sit down before you step on me?”
“Scoot over a bit. I think I’m too big boy to sit on your lap.”

She shifted, trying to squeeze herself as far in to the corner as she could to give Logan enough room to sit down. He leaned his back against the wall and started sliding slowly downwards. Finally his butt touched the floor and he swung his legs on either side of her.

“Be careful.”
“I’m covered.”
“Well, I’m not. And as much as I appreciate you saving my life I’m not that keen on having you rattling around in my head.”

She had been on her way to bed when sudden urge for some ice cream had struck. She had gone to the kitchen, wearing her baby doll-nightgown, only to find out that there was no ice cream. Rather disappointed and tired she had decided to take the elevator back to the second floor. Logan had been on his way to the kitchen as well, using the elevator. He had stepped aside to let her in, door had slammed shut before either of them had the time to react and the elevator had fallen half floor downwards, jamming once again.

“How’s school?”
“Fine. How’s… How’s life?”
“Same old shit. These people treating you alright?”
“Just fine. Though I’m kind of tired of Ms. Grey trying to find ways to get me settled in.”
“Hmph. That’s just Jeannie… From what I have heard she had it rough when she was a kid. She just wants you to have a good time growing up.”
“But that’s the point! I’m nearly seventeen and she treats me like I’m ten or something!”

Logan tilted his head. His brows knit together.

“Seventeen? You sure?”
“What? Not you too!”
“Well… Uh… Sorry?”
“Hmph.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back, fixing the most furious scowl she could muster over her features. Again Logan tilted his head.

“Have I missed something? I thought women wanted to look younger than they are.”
“Well, that’s the whole point! Women. Women that are old want to look younger, but young women want to look little more mature.”
“Aha. Why?”
“I don’t want people to treat me as I were just a kid. I’m tired of being treated like some little miss princess. And if I see even one more ‘pink-decorated-with-laces-oh-so-rosy-and-cute-dress’ I’m going to puke!”

Logan stared pointedly at her nightgown. White flannel with pink and pale blue Hello Kitty adorned her chest. Then his gaze traveled lower, down her stomach, her thighs and bent knees, stopping only to her feet, which were covered to pink bunny slippers.

“What?”
“Nothing… But you sure do go your way in confirming their opinion of you.”
“Duh! Excuse me if my choice of dress doesn’t live up to your standards. Black leathers more up to your alley?”
“Bare skin.”
“Huh?”
“I like to sleep nude.”
“Oh…”

She turned to look at her slippers and wobbled her toes a bit, making bunny-ears flop back and forth. She was painfully aware of the fact that her cheeks were burning crimson. Logan. Sleeping. Nude. Eep! All that skin and muscle relaxed, hair slightly tousled, his lips slightly parted as he slept, sheet covering him only partially… She screwed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. Bad girl. Then turned to look at Logan who had stood up. He was standing his back turned towards her, offering her a perfect opportunity to ogle his ass.

“Stop messing with me!”
“Huh?”
“You know perfectly well that you have well over half of the female population panting after you, me included! It’s not fair to tease me like that!”
“Umm… Uh… What?”
“Stop wiggling that ass in front of my face. I’m severely tempted to pinch it.”
“Isn’t that called harassment?”
“No.”
“No?”
“If you were to pinch my ass you’d be called a dirty old pervert and you’d be harassing me. But if I were to pinch your ass you’d be still called to dirty old pervert for letting me do that and they would say that you led me on because I’m just a naïve little girl who doesn’t know what’s best for her.”
“Oh. I better sit down, then.”

Logan lowered himself on to the floor again. She sighed, only partially from relief, mostly for disappointment. Had she kept her mouth shut she could have collected enough material for fantasies last for a lifetime. She bent her knees closer to her chest and hugged her hands closer to her sides.

“Cold?”
“Little.”

Logan shrugged off his flannel shirt and handed it to her. She slid it on, carefully avoiding touching his bare arms with her bare hands in the tiny space they shared. The shirt felt heavenly warm against her cool skin. She let her body slump to a more comfortable position and buried herself in to the warmth, inhaling deeply. Cigar. Leather. Outdoors. Logan. She gathered all the scents, trying to memorize them. She knew she would remember forever how soft the worn cloth felt against her skin.

“We’re probably stuck in here until tomorrow morning. Why don’t you try and get some sleep.”
“What’s this?”
“What?”
“There’s something in the pocket…”

There was something hard poking her breast. She slid her hand in to the pocket and took it out. A deck of cards.

“I have a better idea how to kill time.”
“You do?”
“Let’s play some poker.”
“You want to play poker with me?”
“Why not? It’s not like there’s hell of a lot more to do.”
“Who taught you to play?”
“You did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Technically you did. I remember how to play because I had you in my head.”
“That’s cheating.”
“And you don’t cheat?”
“That’s not the point. And if we’re both cheating, there’s very little sense to play at all.”
“Afraid that you loose?”
“Well, you already took the shirt from my back…”
“You gave it to me.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s nice shirt.”
“Yeah.”
“Soft.”
“Yeah.”
“It smells nice.”
“Ye… What?”
“Can I have it?”
“For keeps?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do with an old shirt? Besides, it’s too big for you.”
“I could sleep in it.”

She could see gears in Logan’s head turning slowly.

“Is this one of those ‘trying-to-appear-older’ –things?”
“No. I just like how it feels against my skin.”
“Keep it.”

Her butt started to get numb. Sitting on a cold metal floor really wasn’t a good idea when you were wearing only your underpants.

“My ass is getting cold.”
“You’re after my jeans now?”
“Well…”
“Too bad. Can’t have these. I’m not wearing any underwear.”
“Skipped the laundry day?”
“Yeah. Hop on to my lap. Can’t have you freezing that pretty little ass.”
“Okay…”

She scooted around. Sitting on Logan’s lap was an experience she wasn’t going to pass; Shyness and Awkward Feelings could go and screw themselves silly.

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to have me here?”
“It’s just my lighter, kid.”
“Feels more like a blowtorch. Trying to compensate something?”
“You really think I would have been driving around in that piece of crap camper van if that were the case?”