He had sensed her watching him from the cage, awe struck and slightly frightened, her scent telling him she was young, innocent, and completely out of place and when he saw her, sitting at the bar, he felt something in his chest tighten. She was beyond merely beautiful, she was somehow surreal…angelic…those huge brown eyes seemed to give a glance into a soul that was pure as freshly fallen snow. He could have easily stared at her, drank in the sight she made…she was like sunlight appearing at midnight, she was a brief glimpse of perfection in a world where perfect didn’t exist for men like him, in places like Laughlin City.





Taking a pull from his beer, he stole a glance, guessing her age to be eighteen, at the most, which told him she was likely a runaway, lost and afraid, hitching rides where she could and with who she could.





Dangerous for a girl.





Dangerous for someone so frail looking, so delicate and soft.





She reminded him of a chine doll, something rare and special.





Something he could never possess or touch or hold.





A girl like her, she had good things, special things, waiting for her in life.





A girl like that wouldn’t hook herself up with a clawed mutant with a short temper and a nasty reputation and after what she had seen him do in the cage, he was willing to bet she was terrified.





And with good reason.





He was Wolverine. He was only part man mixed with animal.





She was perfection.





She was an angel.





Angels didn’t befriend much less fall in love with bad ass bastard like him.





No, he didn’t stand a chance with her, he assured himself with a sigh as he pondered the fact that one day, the brown eyed beauty sitting at the end of the bar would walk into a man’s life and forever change it for the better.





And he would be one lucky bastard.





The End.