A Rock And A Hard Place


1. The Promise In Her Eyes



I know it’s her the second she opens my door, her soft scent slidin’ into my consciousness an’ wakin’ me instantly from my thankfully dreamless sleep. I lie still as she hesitates in the doorway, the faint light from the single lamp left on in the hallway outlinin’ her perfect body as she stands with one hand still on the door handle, the other twinin’ a lock of dark hair uncertainly between her fingers. With my enhanced eyesight, I can see her as plain as day, but my room is dark an’ I realise she can’t see me – she can’t see if I’m awake.

I roll onto my back, sighin’ softly an’ tryin’ to sound as though I’ve just roused. She takes a single step closer.

“Logan?”

Her voice is soft an’ shakes slightly. She’s nervous. An’ the thought that she’s standin’ there, feelin’ that way, excites me all to hell.

I’ve known this moment would come since the day she finally found the trigger to turn her powers off. The day she finally held on to the Professor’s hand for ten whole minutes without drainin’ him dry. As she announced her achievement to the excited students at dinner that evening’, I could feel her intent as her gaze slid across the room to lock on to mine, an’ my heart missed the proverbial beat. Soon, those eyes promised me. We’ll be together soon.

All those weeks of watchin’ - of waitin’ for her - have taken their toll. There have been nights when I’ve hardly slept at all for lyin’ awake an’ listenin’ for her footfall outside my door. An’ there have been nights when she would come to me in my dreams. I guess those nights were the worst. You’d think I’d be used to wakin’ with a poundin’ heart an’ a howl in my throat. Nightmares. At least I don’t have those dreams any more. Not since the promise appeared in Marie’s eyes.

If the nights were bad, the days have been infinitely worse. All those hours o’ Marie tryin’ to find new an’ inventive ways of remindin’ me that I haven’t been forgotten – the ‘accidental’ brush of our bodies as we pass in the hallway, a sensual finger lingerin’ on mine as somethin’ is passed to me, a hand on my thigh under the dinner table. An’ all the time her eyes watchin’ me. Promisin’. Soon ……

As if I could forget. Dreams. Ah, shit!

Tonight, it’s different. Tonight is no dream. That she’s here now, standin’ in my room, means that she’s finally found the control needed to turn her power on an’ off at will. She’s come to fulfil her promise. A ragged sigh escapes my lips at the thought of the pleasures soon to come an’ she takes another step.

“Logan?”

“I’m here, Marie.”

I hear the undisguised lust in my own voice an’ I struggle to control my emotions as she closes the door, softly. My eyes follow her as she pads slowly to the bed an’ I hitch over to give her room as she climbs in beside me, her hair fannin’ out over the pillow as she snuggles under the covers. My heart-rate immediately goes into overdrive an’ my hands ache to touch her, to finally have her soft flesh beneath my fingers, an’ I moan softly before I can stop myself. I can feel her eyes on me in the darkness an’ my heart almost stops as she reaches out to touch my arm.

“Logan? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Marie.” I pray she can’t hear the strain in my voice. God Almighty, to finally have her here in my bed like this …… It’s takin’ every ounce of my self control to just lie here an’ not force myself on her. The hand on my arm feels like it’s burnin’ into my flesh an’ I can’t think straight . ….. I’m gettin’ hard. Jesus, can she hear my heart poundin’ …… ?

She wriggles closer an’ her hand slips over onto my chest, her fingers cool against my heated skin. My heart is poundin’ like a drum – she’s bound to feel it now, under her fingers. She hesitates a moment an’ I can almost hear her thinkin’. When she speaks her voice is soft, hesitant …… gentle ……

“Ah’ve waited a long time for this, Logan.” Oh Jesus, so have I, Marie. “Ah know ya want me.” Ya don’t know how much, darlin’. “And ah want you too, Logan. Tonight. Now.” Jus’ shut the hell up an’ kiss me, darlin’ before I go crazy.

I can feel her leanin’ closer an’ I roll over onto my side to face her, banishin’ the remainin’ inches between us. I groan softly as her lips touch mine for the first time, her virgin kiss hesitant and inexperienced. My hand finds its way to her hip and rests there – her bare hip, I realise with a sudden jolt of clarity. She’s wearin’ a baby doll nightie which must have ridden up when she snuggled under the covers, an’ my hand is touchin’ bare flesh. Marie’s bare flesh. Oh dear lord, give me strength ……

She gasps as I lean into her an’ deepen the kiss, crushin’ my lips to hers an’ runnin’ my tongue along her lower lip to get her to part them for me. She’s inexperienced. She doesn’t know what I want. An’ so I nip her lip sharply with my teeth an’, when she parts them in shock, I plunge my tongue into her mouth, plunderin’ her from within an’ savourin’ my first sweet taste of her. Christ, how she ignites my senses! She’s like a drug. I can’t get enough.

Her hands are in my hair an’ they feel so good. I groan against her mouth an’ my heart jumps as her tongue nudges mine, the two slidin’ together sensually as she gets bolder. I push her gently onto her back an’ she goes willingly, her body archin’ upwards as my hand moves steadily northwards an’ then it’s her turn to moan as I cup her breast. I tweak her nipple with my fingers an’ she writhes in pleasure as I tease it to a hard peak, breakin’ the kiss to breathe my name. “Oh …… oh, Logan ……”

Her breathy exclamation excites me like never before. Christ, I can’t get enough o’ this woman. I need her …… want her …….

I lean over her, pinnin’ her down with my considerable weight as my lips crash down onto hers once more, devourin’ her feverishly. Her arms go around my neck, pullin’ me into her, her fingers diggin’ into my shoulders and sendin’ shudders of pleasure ripplin’ through me. I can feel my feral side fightin’ me now …… take her, she’s yours, she wants you…… But I can’t give in. I won’t. This is my moment. It belongs to me. Not to the beast.

My hand abandons her breast reluctantly and trails sensually down her ribcage as my brain tells me there are further pleasures awaitin’ to be found. Her thigh is soft beneath my hand as I nudge it gently aside an’ her breath catches as she realises my intent. When I cup the delicate mound between her legs, we both groan in unison.

Oh Christ, she’s so wet! The realisation is like a spear through my chest an’ I pull back from her lips, only to fasten my teeth onto the soft flesh at the base of her neck, growling against her skin as I lathe it with my tongue. Her hips are movin’ – undulatin’ against my hand as I finger her wet folds an’ her eyes are closed, her lips slightly parted as she makes soft little noises that set my head spinnin’. “Oh yes, Logan …… oh yes ……”

I’m so hard now that it hurts physically and I grind my erection against her thigh, achin’ for release. Her eyes widen with the sudden realisation that I’m stark naked and that there is nothin’ between her and my throbbin’ manhood.

I honestly can’t remember when it happened – or how – but suddenly I can’t control myself any longer. The feel of her wet folds beneath my fingers, her increasingly heated moans an’ the scent of her arousal tips me over the edge an’ I lose myself completely in my lust an’ the sensation of havin’ her beneath me. The feral growl that rumbles in my chest is more animal than man, but I’m too far gone to notice.

I push her legs roughly apart an’ position myself between them, graspin’ my cock firmly in my hand an’ groanin’ at the sight of her glistenin’ folds waitin’ to embrace me. I’m shakin’ so hard with the thought of enterin’ her that I can hardly hold myself steady an’ a bead of moisture forms at the tip of my cock, makin’ me crazy with lust.

I’ve gotta take her. I’ve gotta take her now!

Her eyes widen and she clutches at my shoulders as I hover over her. “Logan? Logan, what …… what are you doing?”

“What’s it look like, babe?” My throat is dry an’ my voice comes out as a raspin’ growl. “I’m gonna fuck ya senseless.”

“Logan, no. I’m …… I’m not ready.” She swallows audibly an’ pushes ineffectually at my chest an’ shoulders, tryin’ to force me back. Her scent has changed. She’s scared now, but the thought of plungin’ my cock into that heavenly wet core has stolen all reason. “Logan, please no. Not yet.”

“What’s the matter, babe? Isn’t this what you’ve always dreamed of?” I inch forward an’ my cock nudges against her folds. I close my eyes, rubbin’ the head against her an’ I huff a ragged breath as I imagine her heat enfoldin’ me. Dimly, I am aware that she is whimperin’ an’ tryin’ to push herself back. What’s the matter with her? “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, Marie? To be screwed by the Wolverine? To have me howl your name as I come deep inside you?”

“Oh god! Logan, please no!”

I’m too far gone to listen. The beast inside me has taken over an’ it wants its woman. I draw my lips back in a feral snarl as I force the head of my cock inside her, heedless of her frightened whimpers. “Oh Christ, Marie, this is gonna feel so good ……”

I pull back, ready for another thrust, intendin’ to bury myself deep inside her ……

…… an’ her hands clamp firmly to the side of my face as she triggers the switch to turn on her power ……

2. The Marks On My Heart



When I wake, I’m lyin’ alone in the middle of the bed, the sheets tangled around my legs. I roll over with a groan, my head poundin’ as my healin’ factor struggles to throw off the effects of Rogue’s power.

An’ just like that, I remember what I’ve done.

“Oh, shit! Shit! Marie!”

I tumble from the bed an’ slam my fist into the wardrobe door, welcoming the pain this brings me and leavin’ a fair sized dent in the door. Two more hits later, an’ the door is a splintered ruin. Blood runs from my knuckles, but the cuts heal over instantly, leavin’ nothin’ but a dull ache in their wake. I throw my head back an’ howl. Oh god! What have I done?

An annoyed shout from Scott’s room next door, an’ the sound of a book hittin’ the wall, jolts me back to my senses. Marie! I have to put this right.

I grab my jeans from the end of the bed, draggin’ them on as I hop towards the door. There’s no time for further clothin’ an’ I fling my door open, lettin’ it bang against the wall behind me as I stride barefoot out into the hallway, scentin’ the air for Marie. Her trail leads, not back to her room, but down to the main floor an’ towards the front door.

I hesitate on the porch, lookin’ out across the immaculately kept lawns, an’ her scent draws me, sweet and yet laced with the unmistakable tang of fear. Even when she was trapped in Magneto’s machine she didn’t smell like this an’ I curse myself for what I’ve done to her. I took somethin’ innocent an’ pure an’ I twisted it into somethin’ lewd an’ dirty. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that. How can I ever hope Marie will?

I set off at a brisk jog across the grounds, her scent leadin’ me across the Japanese garden an’ out towards the lake. Figures. She’s always loved the lake with its quiet solitude. That she’s gone there now only serves to emphasise her state of mind.

I find her standin’ under her favourite tree near the boathouse, her arms held tight around her, as though huggin’ herself for the comfort. She is gazin’ out across the lake, watchin’ the play of moonlight on the water but, as I step nearer, she hears me an’ turns in my direction.

I immediately stop, holdin’ out my hands in placation.

“I’m so sorry,” we both say at exactly the same moment.

I move forward slowly an’ join her under the tree. For once, I am lost for words an’ I stand beside her silently, starin’ out over the lake. What the hell could I say that would ever put things right between us?

For both our sakes, I have to try an’ find somethin’.

“Marie ……” I begin, but she raises a hand an’ cuts me off.

“Don’t say anything, Logan.” Her voice is hard, nothin’ like the soft Southern tones I have come to know an’ love. “Ah’m sorry for using my power on you, but you …… you hurt me, Logan. You …… scared me.”

Her words cut me straight to the heart and I hang my head in shame. “I’m …… I’m truly sorry, Marie. I guess I should go.”

I turn to walk away, but her hand on my arm stops me. “Wait, Logan. What …… what happened back there?”

I remain standin’ with my back to her, unable to look her in the eye. “I …… I lost control, Marie. You saw what happened. I let the beast inside me take over an’ I …… I almost raped you.”

“You didn’t rape me, Logan.” Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, an’ it’s torture to my soul. “Ah came to your room tonight because ah wanted you. And heaven help me, ah …… ah still do.”

I turn to face her, my expression one of incredulous disbelief. “I …… what the hell did ya just say, Marie?”

“I said, ah want you, Logan. Always have. Always will.”

My head is spinnin’. “But how can you? After what I did …… ?”

She reaches out to take my hand, sendin’ a jolt rushin’ through me. “Why did you do it, Logan? Why did you lose control?”

“Because I’m an animal!” I pull my hand from hers an’ turn away, but she grasps my arm an’ drags me back.

“No, that’s not the reason, Logan. Why did you lose control? What made the Wolverine take over? Tell me!”

“Because I want you, Marie!” My voice is harsher that I meant it to be an’ she takes a step back in surprise. “I want you so much it fuckin’ hurts! An’ when ya came ta me tonight, sayin’ ya wanted me too an’ smellin’ like ya did, I ……” I drag my hand through my hair, lookin’ around me wildly, tryin’ to avoid this but knowin’ she’ll never understand unless I tell her. “Dammit, Marie, why can’t ya see that I love you?”

There. The words are out now. I’ve said my piece an’ I’m just gonna have to live with the consequences of it. An’ whether she can ever come to love me back or not, at least she’ll know the reason why I’ve always been there for her, protectin’ her …… lovin’ her from afar ……

But the floodgates have been opened an’ there’s no goin’ back.

“Have ya any idea what ya do ta me, Marie? How ya scent drives me crazy whenever yer near? How I want ta touch ya …… ta hold ya an’ make ya mine completely?” I’m pacin’ now an’ she’s watchin’ me, one hand coverin’ her mouth in shock. “Do ya know what it’s like ta be near someone every day an’ not be able ta tell ‘em how ya feel? Do you, Marie? ‘Cause I do, an’ it’s drivin’ me insane!” I turn, pinnin’ her with a feral glare. “An’ ya wonder why I lost control!”

I snap my mouth shut there, realising I’ve probably said too much as her eyes fill with tears, an’ I turn away, disgusted with myself. Between one thing an’ another, I’ve made a right royal cock-up of things tonight an’ I’ve probably alienated the only true friend I’ve got in this entire madhouse into the bargain. Chuck would be proud of me. He took me in thinkin’ I could make somethin’ o’ myself by workin’ with the kids an’ I can’t even be trusted around them. The irony makes me snort in morbid amusement.

I can hear Marie snifflin’ behind me, but I can’t bring myself to turn around. I’ve hurt her. Again. It’s probably best for both of us if I put some distance between us right now.

I’m about to do what I do best an’ storm off to relieve some tension in the Danger Room when Marie steps up behind me. “Logan, ah’m …… ah’m so sorry.” Well, that’s the last thing I expected her to say. “Ah never once thought about what ah was doing to you all this time. It was all new to me – to finally be able to look forward to touching someone. Ah never once thought that you …… Oh god, Logan, ah’ve led you on so badly! Flirted with you. Played with your feelings. Came to your bed and tried to seduce you, never once thinking how that would make you feel. Ah was so wrong, Logan. Ah can see that now.”

“Marie, don’t.” I reach for her an’ then drop my hands with a resigned sigh. After what I’ve done she probably doesn’t want me to touch her right now. Probably never again. “Don’t try to take the blame fer this. I lost control. It was my fault.”

“No, Logan, it wasn’t. It was our fault.” Marie smiles hesitantly an’ it’s a beautiful sight. My heart leaps in hope. “It was six of one and half a dozen of the other. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Marie, what the hell are ya tryin’ ta say?”

“What ah’m sayin’ is, that we should forget that this happened and start again.” She pauses an’ looks out over the water, her silhouette so beautiful to me in the moonlight. “When you said those words to me …… said that you loved me, ah didn’t expect that. Not from you. Ah came to you tonight expecting you to view me as a one night stand. A …… a quick fuck.” Her voice breaks. “But ah was willing to deal with that just so ah could be with you. Even if it was just once. Because ah ……” She turns back to me, her eyes shining, wet with tears. “Because ah love you, Logan. Ah’ve loved you since the day you came to my rescue on that deserted highway in Canada. An’ when you almost died for me on the Statue of Liberty, ah loved you even more.”

“Christ, Marie!” She bursts into tears then, an’ I reach for her, pulling her into my arms. She comes willingly, sobbin’ bitterly against my shoulder, an’ I rub her back an’ stroke her hair, all the time makin’ soothin’ noises an’ whisperin’ meaningless words. I haven’t the faintest idea what I’m sayin’ – calmin’ distraught females ain’t my forte after all – but somethin’ seems to work an’ her sobs gradually quieten an’ her sniffles subside as she gets herself back under control.

“Shit, Logan, ah’m so sorry. Ah didn’t mean to cry all over you like that.” She pulls back slightly, wipin’ her eyes with the back of her hand, an’ I let her go. It’s the last thing I want to do. She feels so good in my arms an’ I want to hold her an’ caress her. But it’s thoughts like that that got me into trouble in the first place an’ I reluctantly allow her to draw away as she dries her tears, leavin’ my hands restin’ lightly on her shoulders. No matter how hard I try, I can’t break contact completely.

“Ah came to you tonight, Logan, fully intending to let you make love to me.” When she begins to speak her voice is soft, almost a whisper. If not for my enhanced hearin’ I doubt I’d be able to hear her above the sound o’ the water lappin’ against the bank. “But when you began to push into me, I panicked. Ah was no longer in control of my own body an’ that scared me. So ah …… ah touched you …….”

“Christ, Marie, don’t!” My hands tighten on her shoulders. “Don’t relive it, darlin’. I …… I’m sorry. I shoulda listened ta ya.”

“No, Logan, you don’t understand. I wasn’t ready then.” Her eyes capture mine as she takes my hands and places them around her waist. “But ah’m ready now.”

She leans in closer, pressin’ her body to mine as she tilts her head to look up at me. An’ all I can see are her full luscious lips invitin’ me in.

I shake my head. “No, Marie, I …… I can’t.” I shudder at the memory of her anguished cries an’ pull back, but she follows, touchin’ her lips gently to mine. “Kiss me,” she whispers, an’ my world explodes, sending me spiralling down a path I thought never to walk. Breathin’ her name, I allow our lips to touch.

The kiss is everythin’ the first one wasn’t – soft yet urgent, gentle yet demandin’. Her arms come up to wrap around my neck as I gently cup the back of her neck an’ I sigh softly against her mouth at the feel of her hot breasts pressin’ into my chest through the silky material of her nightie.

I pull back an’ drop little butterfly kisses along the curve of her neck to her shoulder, hearin’ her sigh delicately in response to the touch of my lips. When I reach the shoe-string strap of her nightie I slowly nudge it off her shoulder an’ kiss the place where it rested. My movements are slow an’ calculated. I don’t want to frighten her an’ I certainly don’t want to lose control. But the beast is locked safely away behind the bars of its prison an’ I have no intention o’ lettin’ it go free again. It howls at me, beats against the confines of its prison, but I’m not listenin’. I’m listenin’ instead to the arousin’ sighs of the woman in my arms.

I return to her mouth to kiss her again, our lips growing more urgent as they slide together. Desperate for more, I nudge my tongue against her lower lip, seekin’ entrance. After a moment’s hesitation, they part an’ I tilt my head an’ deepen the kiss, gently explorin’ her mouth as she moans against me.

My free hand drifts down her neck to her shoulder an’ I nudge the remainin’ strap away, my fingers tracin’ little circles on her skin as our tongues slowly slide together in a sensual dance. Her little nightie is held up only by the press of our bodies now an’ I growl softly in warnin’ as she suddenly steps away from me, only for that growl to die in my throat as she gives a little shimmy an’ allows the flimsy coverin’ to fall to the ground at her feet. My heart’s poundin’ in my chest as she stands before me, the soft moonlight highlightin’ those gentle curves o’ hers to perfection an’ I know that, whatever else happens in the craziness I call my life I will never see a sight more beautiful than this.

Her scent changes. She’s nervous, unsure of herself an’ how I’ll react, but she’s also aroused – determined even – an’ before she can react I pull her back to me, capturin’ her mouth in a searin’ kiss an’ slowly an’ ever so gently lowerin’ her down to the ground where I lie beside her in the sweet scented grass.

I take my time explorin’ her, getting’ to know the curves that, up until now, I have only dreamed about. She responds to my touch with a careless abandon, writhin’ under my hands as I stroke her body. When she arcs into my touch with a lustful cry, thrustin’ her breasts skyward, I lower myself down an’ suck her nipple into my mouth, teasin’ with my teeth an’ lathin’ with my tongue. She moans my name an’ fists her little hands into my hair, heedless o’ the fact that she is drivin’ me crazy.

My free hand drifts lower an’ lower, skimmin’ across the perfect expanse of her stomach an’ pausin’ to dip into her belly button, before headin’ further south. Her legs fall obligingly open as I reach her dark mound an’ I hesitate, reluctant to continue for fear o’ scarin’ her. But her hand suddenly covers mine, urgin’ it downwards, an’ her voice whispers breathily in my ear.

“Please, Logan …… oh god …… please ……”

I’m only too pleased to do her biddin’ an’ I drop my hand lower to cup the delicate flesh between her legs. Her moans intensify an’ she rocks her hips against my hand, releasin’ my hair to grab a fistful o’ grass. Entranced, I sit up so that I can see her face as I slowly an’ firmly push my finger into her hot core.

She goes wild, her lithe body writhin’ like a snake as I slowly withdraw an’ push back in. Her eyes are closed an’ she bites down on her lower lip as if to muffle the cries that are wellin’ up in her throat. When I add a second finger she makes a grab for my hair, draggin’ me down to where she can reach my lips with her own, devourin’ them mercilessly an’ pantin’ against my mouth.

Jesus Christ, I gotta get out o’ these jeans! I’m so hard that I’m in danger o’ doin’ myself an injury an’ somehow I manage to get my free hand around an’ down so that I can undo the button an’ unzip my fly. My cock springs out, hugely erect an’ ready for action. Bein’ released from the confines o’ my pants does nothin’ to calm the ache for release, but the cool night air eases the throbbin’ heat somewhat.

Marie is pantin’ an’ cryin’ between kisses now an’ I realise she is very near her climax. I pump my fingers faster, openin’ them a little wider, an’ her hands tighten in my hair, almost pullin’ clumps out by the roots. Her body jerks beneath my hands as her climax builds an’ I suck in a breath as she bites down hard on my lip, lost in the throes of her passion. I pull away, takin’ myself out of reach of her teeth as my own blood pools in my mouth, an’ then suddenly she cries out, archin’ upwards, her inner muscles grippin’ my fingers as her orgasm hits.

Watchin’ her face as she rides the pleasure of her orgasm does nothin’ for my own throbbin’ desire, an’ I groan in frustration, wantin’ nothin’ more than to bury myself in those soft folds an’ feel those inner muscles grip my cock the way they’re grippin’ my fingers. As her shudders subside, I pull my fingers out an’ stand up to remove my jeans fully, kickin’ them away from me, heedless of where they land. As I lie back down beside her I notice her eyes, big an’ wide in the moonlight an’, before I can react, she reaches out an’ takes my cock in her hand ……

“Oh Christ …… Marie ……!” Words fail me an’ my brain shuts down all higher motor functions as her fingers slide down my length, incitin’ a long groan of lustful ecstasy to rumble in my throat. Somehow I end up on my hands an’ knees straddlin’ her as she lays on her back, puttin’ me in the perfect position for her to stroke an’ caress me. When her other hand slips under the radar to squeeze my balls I almost jerk outta her grasp.

“Y’like that?” Her sultry purr somehow manages to invade my pleasure fogged brain an’ I nod, languidly. “Oh shit, yeah …… Don’t stop, baby …… Don’t stop ……”

She doesn’t, an’ I sigh as her hands continue to move up an’ down my length, sendin’ me to places I haven’t been in a long time. God Almighty, does this woman realise what she’s doin’ ta me? My breath grows increasingly ragged as she begins to settle into a steady strokin’ rhythm an’ when her thumb trails across the glossy head at the apex of her stroke I arch my back, bitin’ back a wicked curse. Jesus, I would let this woman do anythin’ she wanted if this feelin’ could go on forever. If she wants my claws for letter openers, I’ll cut ‘em out an’ give ‘em to her myself.

When I start to thrust into her hand, I realise I’m close. As much as I’m aching for release, when I come I wanna come inside her, not all over her. So I cover her hands with one o’ mine, tryin’ to look reassurin’ as I look back into her trustin’ green eyes.

“Marie, honey, I need …… I need ta come, okay? But not like this. I wanna be inside you ……”

She’s quiet for a moment an’ I’m actually resignin’ myself to havin’ to finish off the job myself just to get some relief, when she nods. “Yes,” she whispers, breathily. “Ah’m ready for you. Logan.”

“Oh, baby!” I lower myself down an’ capture her lips in a crushin’ kiss. “I love ya so much, babe!”

I quickly change position, gently partin’ her legs so that I can settle between them. My breath catches in my throat when I see how wet she still is from her climax an’ I can’t wait to feel that wetness around me.

Her face clouds momentarily as her eyes lower to take in the size of my erection an’ I pause. I don’t want to take her if she’s not willin’. Not this time.

“Will it hurt?” she asks, finally, her voice shakin’ with the anxiety she is so obviously feelin’.

I can’t lie to her. “It’ll hurt, babe,” I confirm, honestly. “But I’ll try to make it quick, okay?”

I reach out to press my hand to her cheek an’ she tilts her head to kiss my palm in a gesture both lovin’ an’ touchin’. An’ I know in that moment that, once this is over, I will never hurt this woman again.

I take my cock in my hand, grunting as even my own touch makes it jerk with anticipation. I have never been this big, this hard, for anyone – ever. My balls are so swollen that I feel as though they’re gonna explode. I’m actually feelin’ kinda pleased with myself. I only hope Marie appreciates the sentiment.

I nudge the head of my cock against her wetness, sighin’ at the delirious feelin’ even this tentative contact invokes. I position myself carefully, keepin’ my eyes fixed on Marie’s the whole time. If she changes her mind, I wanna know instantly, before I go too far to stop myself.

She’s nervous, understandably, an’ she’s bitin’ on her lower lip as though to brace herself for what is about to come. But she gives me a reassurin’ nod.

With a smooth jerk, I push my cock into her.

She immediately tenses at the intrusion an’ her muscles clamp down on me so tightly that I almost come, right there an’ then.

“Shit, Marie! Ease off a bit, will ya?”

“Tryin’,” she hisses, through gritted teeth. “You’re too big ……”

I cut off the rest of her words as I press my lips to hers, slidin’ my tongue into her mouth as she immediately grants me entrance. My hands caress her body in long sweepin’ strokes, up along her ribcage, across her shoulders an’ down to her breasts, where I concentrate on teasin’ her nipples into hard little peaks. I’m tryin’ to get her to relax, to forget that my cock is knockin’ at the door, waitin’ to plunge deep inside her. Somethin’ seems to work. She arches beneath me, pushin’ her breasts into my hands with a languid sigh that tastes sweet in my mouth – an’ I thrust forward once more.

I get further this time, but I can sense that I am now against her barrier an’ before either of us can have second thoughts on this, I pull back an’ surge forward with all the power I can muster.

She cries into my mouth, shudderin’ violently beneath me as I sheath myself fully in her seethin’ core. I break the kiss, restin’ my forehead against hers, pantin’ heavily at the new an’ excitin’ sensations that are assaultin’ my brain. Oh god, I’m in. I’m finally in.

“Jesus!” Marie regains control of her voice. Her hands rest on my shoulders, pushin’ me back slightly so that she can look into my eyes. “Are you …… ?”

I smile back at her, givin’ her a rare glimpse of my impressive canines. “Yeah, darlin’, I am.” I place my hands in the grass beside her head an’ push up. Her gaze travels down my bare chest to where our bodies are intimately joined. An’ bless ‘er, she blushes. “Oh …… oh, Logan!”

“Are ya okay with this?” I ask, suddenly concerned. “Am I hurtin’ ya?”

“No!” she hastens to assure me. “I mean, there was pain, lots of it, but it’s just a numb ache now.” She gives an experimental wiggle an’ I growl at the feelings that suddenly rush at me from my nether regions. “Ah can feel you, Logan. Inside me. You feel …… wonderful ……”

“There are better things ta come, darlin’,” I boast, an’ pull out almost ta the head ta begin our love-makin’ in earnest.

I do my best to make her first time somethin’ memorable. Temperin’ my desire to come quick n’ hard, I settle into a slow, easy rhythm, growlin’ in approval when Marie learns quickly an’ matches it. Her core is tight an’ hot, grippin’ my cock like it never wants to let go, an’ my breath comes in ragged gasps each time I surge into her. Pretty soon I am thrustin’ into her as though my life depends on it, a constant growl rumblin’ in my chest as Marie writhes beneath me, scratchin’ furrows in my back with her long fingernails.

Oh, Jesus, what this woman does ta me! I have never experienced anythin’ like this an’ I am fairly sure I have fucked a lot of women in my life. But to use that word to describe what I am feelin’ while I move inside Marie would be to cheapen the whole experience – make it somethin’ meaningless an’ tawdry. This is nothin’ like that – this is the kind of love-makin’ that only occurs between two people who have given their heart an’ soul to each other unconditionally. This is heaven made manifest – a joinin’ of kindred spirits.

Honestly, I’m surprised I can’t hear angels singin’ ……

Marie is close now, I can sense it – smell it. Encouraged by her heated moans, I thrust faster, groanin’ right along with her as my own climax builds. Slippin’ my hands beneath her hips, I tilt them upwards, allowin’ me to penetrate deeper. My ears are filled with the sound of her frenzied cries for release.

“Marie …… oh god, baby …… come fer me, darlin’ …… I wanna hear ya scream……”

Her second orgasm of the night hits with all the subtlety of an earthquake, shudderin’ through her body an’ forcin’ my name from her lips in a cry of unrestrained ecstasy. She arches beneath me, her inner muscles clampin’ down on my cock with such intensity that, for a moment, sparks flash at the edge of my vision.

“Jesus, Marie, I’m …… Shit, I’m comin’ …… !”

I crash over the edge of my own climax, growlin’ like a madman as the urge to come overtakes me. Searin’ heat surges up an’ along my cock like molten lava and, as I begin to release deep into the body of my lover, I throw my head back an’ howl my conquest to the moon.

Still comin’ in wave after glorious wave, totally delirious with the force of my release, I clamp my teeth to the soft, fleshy skin at the base of Marie’s neck. Suckin’ once, twice to bring the blood to the surface, I bite down, brutally, oblivious to my lover’s startled gasp.

An’ just like that, I mark her as mine.


oooOOOooo



The sky is just beginnin’ to lighten with the comin’ o’ dawn by the time we finally stir from the sleepy embrace we fell into followin’ our love-makin’. I am still inside her, still semi-hard surprisingly, considerin’ the length o’ time that has passed, but I pull out of her with some reluctance as she yawns an’ blinks at me sleepily.

“Hey, Marie.” I reach out to tuck a stray lock of white hair behind her ear an’ she presses a kiss to my palm.

“Hey yourself, sugah.” She sighs languidly an’ looks around her with interest. “Did we really do what ah thought we did last night?”

“We sure did, darlin’. Twice.”

“Wow.” Her fingers go unerringly to the bite on her neck, touchin’ it hesitantly, an’ my heart sinks. “You bit me?”

“Er …… yeah, I did, Marie …… Look, about that …… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Ah kinda like it. It means ah’m yours.” She smiles, reassuringly. “Maybe you could do one at the other side next time, so ah’d have a matchin’ set?”

“Okay,” I promise.

An’ as simple as that, we establish ourselves as a couple.

We try to get dressed, but our nakedness proves somethin’ of a distraction, to the extent that I end up takin’ Marie again against the trunk of the tree we slept beneath.

Afterwards, walkin’ back to the mansion with our hands entwined an’ the sound o’ awakenin’ bird song accompanyin’ us, Marie keeps fingerin’ the mark on her neck an’ I know that, by lunchtime, all the girls in the mansion will know about it. By tomorrow, rumours will be circulatin’ – how a shy an’ petite Southern Belle has tamed the bad-ass Wolverine.

Scooter will have a field day.

But, y’know what? I don’t give a damn.

‘Cause I love this girl, an’ I’d do anythin’ for her. She could put a collar around my neck an’ lead me around on a chain an’ if that’s what they call bein’ tamed, then so be it.

I may have marked her, but she’s marked me too. Only her marks aren’t anywhere on the surface where they can be seen. No, hers are on my heart, an’ only I know they are there.

I will wear them proudly wherever I go. For her.

For Marie.

But if anybody makes an issue outta this, they’ll end up wearin’ a different set o’ marks. An’ I doubt they’ll be as benign.

3. No More Secrets


The rest o’ the day passes quietly enough. Marie an’ me both have grass stains in interestin’ places, so we take a shower – in our own rooms, o’ course. No point in riling the Prof any more than necessary. He’s bound to hear o’ our little tryst sooner or later, but it’d be nice to have a few days o’ privacy, at least. Can’t keep anythin’ secret around here for long, especially if that mouthy friend o’ Marie’s gets to hear of it. What’s her name now? Oh, yeah. Jubilee.

I have a self defence class with the older students in the Danger Room at nine sharp. Usually, workin’ with the kids sets me all on edge, an’ I haveta meditate for an hour or so afterwards, jus’ to relax an’ restore my balance. This session, however, I programme a simulation an’ spend an enjoyable couple o’ hours stalkin’ ‘em through the Amazon rainforest. It’s a programme intended to hone their survival instincts an’ it does wonders for my own self esteem, but somehow I don’t think the students appreciate it much. Shadowcat looks traumatised – I was hidin’ in the leaf mould beneath the half eaten carcass of a tiger when I took her out. I honestly don’t have much sympathy – the clue couldn’t have been more obvious. Tigers don’t live in the Amazon.

An’ Armor? Well, let’s just say it’ll be a long time before she feels safe enough to take a dip in our swimmin’ pool again. Those Amazonian rivers can be real deep sometimes ….

I can almost taste the relief in the air when I dismiss the class an’ send ‘em for showers. Shit, I hope the Prof doesn’t get wind o’ this an’ haul me over the coals for terrorisin’ his trainees. But what the hell does he think is gonna happen to ‘em out in the real world? Sabretooth sure as hell ain’t gonna teach ‘em how to knit.

Marie assists ‘Ro with her classes now an’ usually supervises the library durin’ the lunch break, so I know I ain’t likely to see Marie again till evenin’. I’ve got time to spare, so I hop on the bike an’ take a trip into town, amusin’ myself for a time in one o’ the autoshops in the mall. I buy some sparkplugs for the jeep an’ then mosey along to Harry’s where I manage to waste at least three hours in blissful contemplation o’ beer.

I head home when my stomach begins to rumble in protest of the liquid diet, parkin’ the bike next to my open-top jeep in the garage as my mouth waters at the delicious aromas already driftin’ through from the dinin’ room. I drop the sparkplugs off in my room, change my shirt for appearances sake, an’ make my way to the informal dinin’ room.

The moment I enter, I know something’s been said. The general hub-hub lessens an’ eyes slide in my direction. Dammit, I hate bein’ the center o’ attention. With the hackles risin’ on the back o’ my neck, I help myself to a generous helpin’ o’ steak, fries an’ veggies – more meat than veg, naturally. I am a predator when all’s said an’ done – an’ head to my usual table at the far end o’ the room, sittin’ with my back to the wall so I can survey the room an’ all exits. So I’m a cautious guy, even among friends. A life time spent with various folks tryin’ to kill ya, tends to make ya nervous that way.

There’s no sign o’ Marie yet, so I attack my steak, tryin’ to ignore the glances bein’ sent in my direction. An’ then the whisperin’ starts …….

“He’s alone. Are you sure they’re an item?”

“They say they did it in the woods. Out near the boathouse.”

Oh, yeah. Three times, no less. I smirk at that.

“It was a full moon last night. D’ya think his canines get longer on a full moon?”

Idiot.

“Who’d a’ thought it? The bad-ass Wolverine, tamed – by a girl.”

Who said that? When I find out who said that, they’re gonna be real sorry come their next defence lesson. Nobody tames the Wolverine. Leastways, not so’s I’d admit it, anyway.

An’ then Marie enters. An’ the room goes real quiet again, as all eyes swivel in her direction.

‘Ro, Scooter an’ Jeannie come in behind her, lookin’ around in obvious bewilderment at the uncharacteristically silent dinin’ room, but Marie pretends nothin’ is amiss an’ helps herself to a lady-like plate o’ steak an’ fries, makin’ small talk with Jeannie as she moves in beside her. A growl rumbles in my chest as I take in the way she moves, the casual way she flicks a lock of dark hair over her shoulder an’ I lower my head, takin’ an intense interest in my steak.

There’s a collective gasp from the room in general as she heads towards my table. I look up, watchin’ her progress as she sways towards me.

“Hey, sugah,” she greets me as she draws level with my table. “Can ah sit here?”

“Sure.” My voice is rough an’ I cough an’ try again. “Sure.” Better. “Pull up a chair.”

There’s an empty seat opposite, but she pulls out the one beside me an’ sits down. Every student in the place is watchin’ us now – little Rahne Sinclair’s mouth is actually hanging open. No one has ever dared to sit next to the Wolverine before – it’s somethin’ of a taboo. Not to mention, a safety issue. If he gets wind of a scent he don’t like, he’s likely to go crazy an’ spear ya with his claws. I snort. As if!

Jean an’ ‘Ro are eyeing us strangely now an’ even Scott – not exactly the brightest firework in the box – has begun to suspect that somethin’ is goin’ on. This has gone on long enough. I aim a feral snarl at the nearest table to ours an’ suddenly the mood is broken. Conversation miraculously breaks out again, an’ Jean an’ ‘Ro, satisfied that nothin’ is truly amiss, head for a table, draggin’ Scott in their wake.

“Logan, behave.” Marie giggles at me, then rolls her eyes as somethin’ flutters to the floor between us. “Oops, dropped my napkin. Excuse me.”

She pushes her chair back an’ disappears under the table. I take a forkful o’ steak – an’ spit it right back out with a barkin’ cough as a small hand wraps around the bulge in my pants an’ squeezes.

Marie reappears from under the table, wavin’ the napkin triumphantly. “Got it!” she cheers.

I fix her with my best intimidatin’ scowl. “The hell ya doin’, Marie? Ya tryin’ ta get us both killed?”

“Lighten up, sugah!” She spears a fry an’ takes a delicate bite. “Ah missed you today.”

I’ve missed her, too, but I try not to let it show as I concentrate on my meal. Several of the students are watchin’ us again an’ I resist the urge to bend her over the table an’ devour her lips with mine, just to give ‘em a show.

Instead, I glance sideways at Marie, a feral grin tuggin’ at my mouth. “Maybe I could stop by yer room later. Ya could show me how much ya’ve missed me.”

Marie doesn’t answer, but the hand restin’ on my thigh under the table is hot with promise.


oooOOOooo



True to my word, I wait until the mansion falls quiet that night, before leavin’ my room an’ slippin’ along the hallway to Marie’s room. She’s waitin’ for me, wearin’ another tiny little nightie, which quickly becomes nothin’ at all as I strip it from her. Her tiny hands fiddlin’ with the huge buckle on my jeans quickly inflames my desire an’ I am fully erect by the time she unzips my fly. I kick my jeans across the room an’ lower Marie to the softness of the bed, where we set about reacquainting ourselves with the intimacies of each other’s bodies.

Considerin’ that Marie has spent the last three years avoidin’ bein’ touched, she’s certainly eager to make up for it now as she encourages me to explore every inch of her. I do so willingly, my hands and mouth bringin’ her to a peak which she is only too happy to throw herself from. Her soft sighs an’ moans stoke my own desire an’ when she takes my hardened cock in her hands, fingers gently massagin’ an’ caressin’ my length, my groans an’ heated pleas for more are added to hers.

By the time I enter her, I am crazy with desire, spreadin’ her legs wide so that I can take her deep. Our love-makin’ is slow, but filled with the passionate sounds of two people who can’t get enough of each other an’ our groans compete for supremacy as our bodies move together in a sensual dance. By the time I come, I am thrustin’ into her so hard that her teeth are clickin’ together, but her cries join mine as the sensation of my hot come squirtin’ into her beckons her own climax. Our bodies shudderin’ in unison, I clamp my teeth to her neck an’ fulfil my promise, givin’ her a matchin’ set o’ feral marks.

I never once lose control.

But there is growlin’.

A lot of growlin’.

An’, for some reason, that really seems to turn Marie on.

Afterwards, we lie together in a tangle of naked arms an’ legs an’ slowly drift off to sleep. For once, the nightmares stay away ……


oooOOOooo



It’s at breakfast the next mornin’ when the trouble really starts.

*Logan, I’d like to see you in my study immediately, please*

The Professor’s telepathic summons echoes in my head an’ I look at Marie over the top o’ my black coffee. She immediately senses what has happened an’ puts out a hand to pat my arm.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispers, consolingly.

I abandon my coffee an’ make my way along the hallway to Xavier’s study, all the while feelin’ the spectre o’ the condemned hangin’ over me. I have a hunch this confrontation is goin’ to turn nasty, but I will not be bullied. Marie an’ me have done nothin’ wrong an’ we have nothin’ to be ashamed of. We love each other. What could be shaming in that?

By the time I reach the study door, I have pretty much used up all my self control an’ my temper is simmerin’ just under the surface. It won’t take much to set it off. I open the door without knockin’ an’ stride through, straight away noticin’ that Jean an’ Scott are already present. They are sittin’ in the room’s only two chairs, forcin’ me to stand before Xavier’s desk like a naughty schoolboy called before the headmaster.

I glower at the Professor, wishin’ I had a cigar so that I could bite on it.

The Professor regards me solemnly over a steeple made of his fingers. “Logan, a certain matter has been brought to my attention which I would like you to clarify. Scott?”

Scooter leans forward in his seat, almost eagerly. Bastard. Always tryin’ to get me in the Prof’s bad books. “Kitty says she saw Rogue resting her hand on your thigh during dinner last night.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So?” I inquire with a snarl.

I don’t think this is the answer the Professor had been expectin’. He fixes me with a steady gaze. “Are you aware of what you are implying, Logan? Please consider carefully before you answer.”

“I don’t need ta consider, Chuck, the answer’s still the same.” I flash Scott a resentful glare.

“So it’s true? Rogue was …… ?” Scott puts two an’ two together an’ finally comes up with an answer that makes sense. “For heaven’s sake, Logan, what were you thinking of?”

“That’s none o’ yer business, Summers. Rogue’s a big girl now an’ if she wants ta put her hand on my leg I ain’t gonna stop her.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this!” Scott stands an’ starts pacin’ in front o’ the desk, comin’ within an arms length o’ me with each second turn. My hands itch with the urge to grab him by the neck an’ shove his interferin’ face into the wall. “Of all the irresponsible, bone-headed things you could have done ……”

I put up a hand to forestall the tirade. “Now, wait a minute, Summers. It wasn’t my hand doin’ the wanderin’. An’ even if it was it wouldn’ta made a jot o’ difference.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Summers turns an’ fixes me with a ruby tinted glare.

“It means whatever ya want it ta mean,” I snap back. “You do the math.”

Jean’s eyes are flickin’ back an’ forth between me an’ Scott durin’ the exchange an’ she finally adds her two cent’s worth. “Logan, are …… are you …… involved …… with Rogue?”

Silence descends on Xavier’s study as all eyes fix me in their sights. For one fleetin’ moment I consider lyin’, but I can’t do that to Marie. It would be like admittin’ that what we’re doin’ is shameful an’ wrong. An’ so I square my shoulders an’ draw myself up to my full height as I send Jean a barely perceptible nod. “So what if I am?” I counter.

Did she read my mind? She’s certainly capable of it, but she looks as surprised as Chuck an’ Scooter by my admission. Her lips form into a serene smile an’ I sense her approval, right before Scooter’s hand drops onto my shoulder an’ he drags me around to face him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Logan? You have no right to force yourself on Rogue, do you hear me?”

“Fuck you, Summers!” Not exactly eloquent, but that comment cut a little too close to the truth for comfort.

“Logan! I have stayed silent up until now, but I will not allow swearing in my study. Do you understand?”

I nod, sullenly, an’ Scott stalks away to lean against the back of his chair. In the followin’ silence, Jean stands and walks the few paces between us to take my hand.

“Logan, are you and Rogue …… intimate?”

I trust Jeannie an’ I’ve never been able to deny her anything. So I nod, unable to tear my gaze away from her intense green eyes. There was a time when I ached to have those eyes look back into mine as I moved inside her. But those days are gone. It’s Marie’s eyes I dream of now.

Scott’s fist connects sharply with the back of the chair. “Jean, how can you stand there and listen to this? He …… and Rogue ……” He throws his hands up in disgust.

“How long, Logan?” asks Xavier, softly. I think he knows the answer, but he needs me to say it.

“Since the night before last.”

Scott does the math an’ comes up with the obvious connection. “You bastard!” I notice Xavier doesn’t reprimand his favourite boy for swearin’. “That was you howling after you’d ……” He shakes his head in disgust. “You just couldn’t wait, could you? The girl barely has control of her powers and you …… You disgust me, Logan.”

My hackles rise. I’ve had enough o’ this. I surge forward, grabbing Summers around the neck an’ pushin’ him back into one o’ Xavier’s expensive book cases. He grabs my hand, tryin’ to pull it free, splutterin’ an’ chokin’ in my grasp as I lean in close, my teeth bared. I can feel the beast within howlin’ at the gates, achin’ to knock this arrogant bastard into the middle o’ next week, an’ I barely keep it under control. Some of its influence flares in my eyes as I allow my temper to rise.

“For your information, Rogue came ta me that night. Ta me! An’ I wasn’t howlin’ fer the reason you think I was. That came later, not that it’s any o’ yer damn business.”

“Logan.” I cut off with a grunt as Xavier’s voice, deep and authoritative yet strangely soft, interrupts my anger. I turn my head slightly to put him in my line of sight, still with the strugglin’ Summers boy in my grasp. “I would be very grateful if you would kindly release my X-Man and stand back. Rest assured that if you make one more violent move towards any of my people, I will sever all connections to your basic motor functions and have you carried out of here in a box. I can do it, you know,” he adds, conversationally, as I hesitate.

I turn back to Scott an’ give him one more snarl for good measure, just so he realises who he’s messin’ with, an’ then I release him. He falls into an untidy heap at my feet, clutchin’ at his throat an’ gaspin’ for air. Jean immediately swoops in an’ helps him to his feet an’ together they make it to a chair, where Summers collapses into it. Disgusted, I turn on the spot an’ stalk to the window, starin’ out at Storm’s rose garden, blackly.

“This has gone on long enough,” Xavier announces into the ensuing silence. “There is only one way to settle this.” He pauses an’, after a couple of seconds, there’s a timid knock at the door an’ I realise he’s summoned someone he’s had waitin’ in the hallway.

“Come in, Rogue,” he calls, an’ sure enough, my Marie enters the room, lookin’ around her fearfully. She probably overheard all the shoutin’ from the hallway. She immediately sees me glowerin’ outta the window an’ comes straight over to stand beside me, her little hand slippin’ into mine an’ givin’ it a squeeze.

The action is not lost on Xavier, who seems to nod in satisfaction. “Rogue, Logan tells me that you and he are now …… intimate.”

Well, thanks, Charlie. Cut ta the chase, why don’t ya?

Marie nods, hesitantly. She must have known this was comin’, yet she still seems ill-prepared for it. “Yes,” she whispers, softly, an’ her hand tightens on mine.

Xavier leans forward in his chair, restin’ his arms on the desk before him. “Rogue, I am going to ask you a question and it is imperative that you answer truthfully. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Professor.” Her voice is calm now an’ I feel an immense surge o’ pride. You show ‘em, kid!

“Has Logan recently, or at any time in the past, tried to force himself on you, Rogue?” Xavier’s eyes flick to mine as he says this an’ I feel a moment’s discomfort. He knows ……..

Marie, however, is quick to answer. “No, Professor, he hasn’t.”

“Are you sure, child?”

“Professor, may ah speak?”

“Of course, Rogue. This isn’t a courtroom.”

Well, ya coulda fooled me.

“It’s no secret that ah had a crush on Logan when ah first came here, an’ that crush has grown into something stronger over the years. Ah love Logan an’ ah know he would never do anything to hurt me.”

Xavier glances at me, an’ I nod, slowly. “What happened between us is only natural, Chuck. Besides, she’s twenty-one now an’ I figure she’s old enough ta take a man if she wants one.”

Xavier smiles indulgently an’ Marie snuggles into my side with a giggle. “Ah’m twenty-two, Logan!”

“You are? Shit, when did that happen?”

“Logan, I will not tell you again. Swear once more in my presence and I will be forced to take action.”

“Jesus, Chuck, if I can’t say shit or fuck, what the hell can I say?”

Xavier shakes his head in despair an’ turns away, pinchin’ the bridge of his nose. I get the feelin’ he’s written me off as a bad job.

Havin’ got over his scare, Summers makes a valiant effort to regain the upper hand. “Professor, what do you intend to do about this? We simply can’t allow him to prey on every woman that catches his eye.”

Marie’s indignant “Hey!” almost drowns out my own retort. “Summers, so help me, I’ll ……”

Xavier holds up his hand for silence. “I am going to do nothing, Scott. They are both consenting adults and, as such, I have no right to interfere.” Damn right! I smile triumphantly at Marie, only to grunt as Xavier fixes me with an intense stare. “However, Logan, if I ever hear that you have mistreated Rogue in any way, or hurt her, then believe me, I will make you very sorry.”

“Ain’t no chance o’ that, Chuck.” Marie snuggles into my side, happily, an’ Xavier nods in satisfaction, lookin’ towards Scott who snorts an’ turns away, pointedly. No chance o’ retribution there, then. Jean, however, walks over an’ gathers Marie into a loose embrace, which my girl returns, hesitantly.

“I’m happy for you, Rogue, but I hope you know what you’re doing.” The redhead tosses me a smile to show there’s no insult meant an’ I show her my canines in return. Marie is grinnin’ like a loon.

“Ah got what ah wanted, Jean. An’ don’t worry about me. Ah can handle him.”

Oh, ya can, can ya? We’ll see about that.

Xavier wheels out from behind his desk, gathering us all up on his way to the door. “Much as I have enjoyed this little tete a tete, I have work to do and this school doesn’t run itself. So off with you. Scott, don’t forget that the jet is due for its 50,000 mile service some time this week.”

Tete a tete? What the hell? The man all but threatened to lobotomise me an’ he thinks we were just havin’ a cosy chat? Guess there’s a darker side to the Prof after all.

Summers takes off the moment the study door closes behind us. Obviously ain’t feelin’ chatty. Marie grins up at me, her eyes alight with the freedom bestowed on us by our mentor. “Ah gotta go, Logan! Storm’ll be wonderin’ where ah’ve got to. Ah’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

“Sure, kid.” I reach out to pull the strands of white hair through my fingers an’ she presses a kiss to my palm before scamperin’ off.

Jean watches her go. “She’ll be good for you, Logan,” she says, approvingly. “At least you won’t have to pant after me any longer.”

“Jeannie, I’ll always pant after you,” I respond, seriously. “But it’s Rogue I love.”

Her face is a picture as I stride away.

4. The Hellion on My Harley



I’ve been in a foul mood all day an’, geez, I wonder why? I’m being ironic here, in case it’s escaped yer notice. Much as I appreciate everythin’ Xavier’s done for me – givin’ me a home an’ helpin’ me to sort out my missin’ memories an’ all – I can’t help but feel that he was way outta line callin’ me into his study this mornin’. I know what I shoulda done – I shoulda told him an’ his fancy X-Men to fuck off an’ stormed outta there. But sometime in the past one hundred years or so o’ my life, I seem to have developed this sense o’ honour an’ pride, an’ I couldn’t walk out an’ not defend that honour. For good or for bad, Marie an’ me are a couple now an’ no matter what Scooter thinks there’s nothin’ sordid or sleazy about it. There’s a connection between us. God knows how or why, but I’ve known she was meant to be mine since the day she sat in my camper an’ finished off the last o’ my beef jerky. An’ I think she knew it too. An’ no matter what the Xaviers an’ the Scooters o’ this world say, nothin’ will change that. It’s a fact o’ life. My life.

I ain’t exactly feelin’ sociable after Xavier’s tete a tete so I’m kinda relieved that I have no trainin’ sessions scheduled for the day. Christ knows I can traumatise the kids well enough when I’m in a reasonably good mood, so it’s anybody’s guess what I could achieve in my current state o’ mind. So I spend some time foolin’ around with the Harley an’ fittin’ the new sparkplugs in the jeep an’ before I know it, the afternoon’s gone an’ I’m being assaulted by the delicious aromas o’ the chicken casserole we’re havin’ for dinner. Funny how time flies when you’re havin’ fun ……

My stomach growls loudly to remind me that I didn’t stop for lunch. Come to think of it, breakfast was a hit an’ miss affair too, for obvious reasons.

I drop down the jeep’s hood an’ reach for a rag, wipin’ away the oil that coats my fingers. I wish I could wipe away my sudden feelin’ of unease just as easily. There’s a little voice in my head, tellin’ me to stop being such a fool an’ grow up, but the thought o’ facin’ the rest o’ the teachin’ staff in the dinin’ room after this morning’s debacle is makin’ me sick to the stomach. They’d have to be deaf not to know about me an’ Marie by now – as I’ve said before, news goes around this place faster than a dose o’ clap in a brothel. Ain’t nothin’ I can do about that. But damn me for a fool if I have to put up with their disapprovin’ glances an’ barely hidden hostility. An’ those flamin’ kids …… If I have to listen to one more stage-whispered explanation o’ how Marie tamed the big bad Wolverine, I’ll ……

Oh, fer god’s sake …… ! I know what I wanna do, so why don’t I just cut the crap an’ do it?

Tossin’ the rag aside, I stride from the garage, slammin’ the door behind me an’ gettin’ a moment’s satisfaction as the resultin’ crash startles a young student just passin’ by. She backs off as I storm past an’ I resist the urge to growl. The way she lowers her eyes as if afraid to meet my gaze is enough to convince me that I’ve got her on the hop. Flamin’ kids think I’m tamed, do they? I don’t know the meanin’ o’ the word.

I almost barrel into Storm as I pass the kitchen, my nose alertin’ me to her presence just in time to avoid the collision. She rocks back into the doorway, surprised by my sudden appearance but recoverin’ quickly an’ reachin’ out a hand as I stalk past.

“Logan, I would like to …… Logan?”

She breaks off helplessly as I ignore her an’ continue on my way. I certainly don’t need another lecture right now an’ especially not from the holier-than-thou weather witch. What I do need is my girl, preferably writhin’ under me an’ pantin’ my name, but I’ll settle for some good old fashioned peace an’ quiet an’ some time to talk. An’ possibly a beer. Yeah, definitely a beer.

Reachin’ Marie’s room, I shove open the door with enough force to send it crashin’ back into the wall behind. Marie, just comin’ from the bathroom with a brush in her hand, jumps back with a squeak.

“Christ, Logan! Don’t ya ever knock?”

I release the growl gatherin’ in my chest an’ she purses her lips, puttin’ the brush down on the nearby dresser. “Ah guess not. So. Did ya just come here to give me a heart attack, or did ya have another purpose in mind?”

I resist the urge to bear her down to the bed an’ show her what’s really on my mind. “Grab a jacket. We’re goin’ out.”

“Wha …… ? Out? But it’s dinner time.”

“I know. That’s why we’re goin’ out.”

“But we’re havin’ banana splits for dessert tonight. Ah was looking forward to one of those.”

“Christ, Marie! Are ya comin’ or not?”

She gives me a long, calculatin’ look before stridin’ to her wardrobe, openin’ it an’ searchin’ the rail for her jacket. I can hear her mutterin’ as she slides the clothes around an’ I lean back against the door jamb, foldin’ my arms an’ tappin’ my fingers impatiently. “Get a move on, will ya?”

“For heaven’s sake, sugah, what’s the rush?” She turns from the wardrobe, clutchin’ her favourite green leather jacket – green leather, fer Chrissakes! – an’ regards me with that curious tilt o’ the head that I usually find so endearin’ but which is really startin’ to piss me off right now. “Ah thought you’d enjoy havin’ the chance to talk to everybody at dinner tonight.” She begins to shrug herself into the jacket. Not fast enough, I might add. “Ah know Scott wasn’t too complimentary about us being together, but not everyone shares his opinion, y’know? Storm, especially, wanted to congratulate us.”

“She did?” Well, that’s news ta me.

“Sure.” Marie closes the wardrobe door an’ moves across the room to stand in front o’ me, smilin’ up at my face. “She actually thinks we shoulda got together long before this, but ah guess the ol’ poison skin kinda got in the way, huh?”

“Ah, shit.” So Storm is one of our supporters? I’m actually startin’ to feel bad about cuttin’ her dead in the hallway just now, but the deed is done an’ I can’t take it back. Maybe I’ll see her at breakfast …… ?

“Oh, geez, Logan, you think …… you think everybody’s gonna be like Scott, don’t you? That’s why we’re going out. We’re avoidin’ everybody.”

A low rumble starts in my chest an’ she moves closer to press her palm to my cheek. “Come to dinner with me, sugah. It won’t be so bad, ah promise.”

“Marie!” As much as I love this girl, my patience is rapidly wearin’ thin an’ once I’ve made up my mind I don’t ever change it. For anyone. “Marie, if ya don’t get yer ass outta that door right now an’ down ta the garage, I swear I’ll throw ya over my shoulder an’ carry ya there.”

Her eyes light up an’, for a moment, I actually think she’s gonna call my challenge, but she finally snorts an’ stalks out into the hallway, bristlin’ like a cat. “Fine! Miss dessert then! See if ah care!”

Closin’ Marie’s door behind me – a great deal quieter than I opened it – we make our way down to the garage, pausin’ at the closet near the front door for me to grab my leather jacket. In the garage, I activate the control to open the huge metal door an’ then stalk to the bike, swingin’ my leg over an’ settlin’ into the seat, decisively.

Marie eyes the bike with some consternation. “Can’t we go in the jeep? Ah’ve just done my hair.”

“No. Bike. Now shaddup an’ get on.” My mood has not improved any durin’ our journey down from Marie’s room.

“Y’know, ya really are a grumpy bastard when the mood takes ya.” Marie clambers onto the back o’ the bike, her annoyance makin’ her Southern drawl more noticeable. I love it when she’s angry. “Ah swear, if ah didn’t love ya so much ah’d smack ya upside the head.”

“Ya could try,” I growl back, startin’ up the bike an’ feelin’ her arms go around my waist as I rev the engine. Feelin’ spiteful, I let her rip an’ barrel outta the garage faster than safety protocols would allow, considerin’ a kid could be walkin’ past at that precise moment. Marie squeals an’ hangs on for dear life as I send the bike hurtlin’ down the driveway in a spray o’ gravel.

As I turn outta the driveway, I realise that insistin’ on takin’ the bike may not have been a wise decision after all. Marie is sittin’ so close to me that her knees are pressin’ into my thighs – going around a corner only makes her grip harder. As I fight to keep my attention on the road ahead, she leans closer an’ I stifle a groan as I feel her hot breasts pressin’ into my back.

“Where are we going?” Her lips brush my ear as she pitches her tone to be heard above the rushin’ o’ the wind an’ my heart jolts in response, sendin’ a flush o’ heat to my groin. The warm puff of air she breathes into my ear is surely my imagination – the rush o’ passin’ wind would have stolen it away long before it reached me.

“Sugah?” I realise she is waitin’ for an answer an’ I force myself to focus.

“I thought we’d go to Harry’s,” I shout back. “A rare steak an’ a beer wouldn’t go amiss right now.”

“Sounds good.” Marie nods appreciatively an’ rests her head on my shoulder. “Maybe I could persuade you to shoot a few rounds o’ pool with me?”

“We’ll see,” I hedge. “Beer first. Entertainment later.”

“Okay, sugah. Whatever you say.” She sighs happily an’ I concentrate on overtakin’ a camper pullin’ a trailer which is weavin’ about the road due to being slightly overloaded on one side. The driver helpfully waves me through once the road ahead is clear an’ I pull out, givin’ the camper the once over as I roar past. The similarity between this vehicle an’ the camper I was drivin’ when I met Marie three years ago is so acute that I lose myself in memories for a moment an’, by the time I come back to the here an’ now, I am several miles up the road an’ Marie has somehow managed to get her hands beneath my jacket without me noticin’.

There’s nothin’ between my body an’ the heat of her palms but the material o’ the flannel shirt I am wearin’, an’ even that offers scant protection as her fingers deftly undo a couple o’ buttons.

“Marie,” I growl, warningly.

“Oh, hush, sugah.” She pushes closer to my back an’ her hand slips inside my shirt, warm fingers splayin’ against my stomach. Torn between concentratin’ on the road an’ the feel of her gently strokin’ hand, I fail to notice her other hand driftin’ slowly lower until it squeezes the bulge in my jeans.

The bike wobbles alarmingly as all concentration is momentarily lost.

“Christ, Marie, are ya tryin’ ta get us both killed?” Control regained, I remove her hand from my nether regions an’ place it back around my waist, tossin’ a glare over my shoulder. “Save it fer the bedroom, okay?”

“You didn’t say that the other night out by the boathouse.” I can almost hear the pout in her voice as she exposes the flaw in my logic. “Come on, sugah, lighten up.”

“Marie, we’re on a bike.” I point out the obvious, but somehow I get the feelin’ she’s not listenin’. The hand in my shirt is tracin’ tiny circles on my skin an’ her free hand has wandered south once more, wisely stayin’ clear o’ my rapidly growin’ erection but still managin’ to force a groan from my lips as she squeezes my thigh. I get the feelin’ she knows exactly what she is doing to me an’ if she doesn’t stop she’s gonna get more than she bargained for.

When her hot little tongue flicks out to lick the back o’ my ear I know I gotta scratch this itch before it kills me. She squeals as I swerve the bike violently off the road onto a rough track that runs through the surroundin’ forest an’ up into the hills.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” I think she knows where we’re goin’ an’ why, but she stays quiet as we jolt along, the uneven dirt road doing my achin’ groin no favours. The overlappin’ trees steal away the last o’ the day’s wanin’ light an’ I am forced to switch on the bike’s headlight, more for Marie’s benefit than mine. The beam casts strange shadows on the trees ahead.

Four miles down the road I pull off onto what is barely more than a rabbit track through the trees, finally emergin’ into a small clearin’ as the last o’ the day’s light is leeched from the sky by the oncomin’ night. Stars begin to emerge as the sky darkens an’ Marie breathes out a soft sigh as the crescent moon emerges from behind a cloud, bathin’ the clearin’ in a silvery glow. “Oh, Logan! So pretty!”

Kickin’ down the bike’s stand, I shrug out o’ my jacket and hang it from the handlebars, immediately feelin’ Marie’s arms go around me and begin to undo the remainin’ buttons on my shirt. She doesn’t ask how or why I know of the clearin’ an’ I don’t volunteer the information either. She’s probably thinkin’ that I bring my women here. The truth owes more to my feral nature than my love o’ sex. I come here when I feel the beast inside me tryin’ to exert its control an’ make me in its image. The peace an’ quiet here is soothin’, the solitude a welcome change to the constant barrage o’ noise at the mansion. Here, I can ground myself in nature an’ allow the man to regain control.

Havin’ undone my buttons, Marie removes my shirt, pullin’ it back an’ off my shoulders an’ tossin’ it onto my jacket. Her hands return unerringly to my chest, roamin’ my body as if tryin’ to commit every inch o’ me to memory, her knees pressin’ into my thighs an’ imprisonin’ my legs against the bike. It’s strangely erotic to see her disembodied hands movin’ up an’ down my chest an’ I groan softly as she runs the pads of her fingers across my flat nipples, makin’ them harden under her touch.

I can feel her breath on the back o’ my neck as one hand drifts lower, tracin’ a line o’ dark hair down to my belly button, which she circles once or twice before skippin’ over my jeans to caress my thigh. The friction excites the growin’ bulge between my legs an’ Marie giggles against my neck as I shift uncomfortably on the bike’s seat.

“Not comfy, sweetie? Let’s see if ah can remedy that.”

Both hands glide to the large buckle that fastens my belt, flippin’ it open an’ draggin’ the belt from its loops with one swift movement. She flings it away across the clearin’ an’ my eyes follow its flight, committin’ its final landin’ place to memory. That’s my favourite belt an’ I’ll want it back later.

The button at the waistband o’ my jeans is next to go an’ my breath catches as she turns her attention to the zipper, slidin’ it down slowly so as not to trap any sensitive flesh. The night air is wonderfully cool on my throbbin’ heat, yet all I can think of is buryin’ myself to the hilt in another kind o’ warmth.

When her hands go to the waistband o’ my jeans an’ push down, insistently, I get the hint an’ put both feet on the ground, raisin’ myself up just enough for her to push my jeans down my thighs. I am now effectively pinned to the bike – with Marie’s knees pressin’ into my legs and the jeans keepin’ me hobbled, the only way I’ll get off the Harley is by fallin’ off.

I don’t know what to do with my hands – when I reach for hers, intendin’ to guide it where I want it to go, she slaps them away, resolutely refusin’ to touch me until I move them away. Lost for ideas, I put my right hand on her thigh, grippin’ tightly, an’ reachin’ slightly up an’ around me to fist my left hand into her hair, windin’ the silky strands around my fingers. Unintentionally, this posture leaves me completely open to her desires, a fact that I find disturbin’ yet highly excitin’ as I watch her hands drift down my chest to my waitin’ cock.

Her hand encircles me, strokin’ down to the base an’ back up to the head with a smoothness that makes my head spin. At the apex of her upward stroke, she circles her thumb across the glossy crown, smearin’ the pre-cum that is already weepin’ from the slit, an’ my cock jerks in her hand, cravin’ more attention an’ gettin’ it as she takes her hand on another languid journey down my length. An involuntary groan of pleasure escapes my lips as she tightens her grip. “Marie ……”

“You like that, don’t you?” she purrs, suggestively, against my ear an’ I groan again as her hair falls over my shoulder, brushin’ against already sensitive nipples. She’s got me right where she wants me, an’ she knows it. Her hand stills an’ I can’t stop the growl that rumbles in my throat. “Do you want me to continue, baby? Do you want me to make you come?”

Christ, she wants me ta beg! For a split second, a haze of anger washes over me – I beg for nothin’, even from Marie. But then her free hand slides around my waist an’ she reaches down between my legs, squashin’ her breasts against my back so that she can squeeze my achin’ balls, an’ I arch back into her with a cry. “Ah, Christ, Marie …… please ……”

It wasn’t meant as a plea for her to continue, but she takes it as such and begins to jack me in earnest now, her grip tightenin’ as she strokes up towards the head then loosenin’ as she descends, to repeat the process over and over, her movements exactly mimickin’ how I would do this myself an’ I know she is accessin’ my memories to make this perfect for me. An’ all the time, the hand on my balls is slowly squeezin’ an’ caressin’ an’ I can feel the pressure buildin’ at the base o’ my spine an’ I know it isn’t going to be long before I come.

With my breath comin’ in short, ragged gasps, she ups the pace, tightenin’ her grip until it’s almost painful an’ I clench my teeth as a spasm ripples through my lower body, heraldin’ my impendin’ climax. “Oh god …… oh god ……”

“That’s it, baby, come for me.” Marie’s lips are brushin’ my ear again an’ I shiver at the teasin’ touch. “Let it go, sugah. Ah wanna see ya come.”

“ ……. Harder …… Marie ……” The words escape my lips before I can stop them an’ she smiles against my neck, teasin’ the flesh with hot little kisses that start behind my ear an’ drift down to the soft flesh at the base o’ my neck. As I tilt my head to the side to give her greater access, she clamps her teeth to the soft flesh there an’ bites down – hard. Markin’ me. Like a feral.

“Jesus Christ ……!” The combined pleasure-pain tips me over the edge an’ I climax hard, growlin’ like a madman as I pump my seed all over Marie’s hand an’ the front o’ my bike.

It takes a while to come down from my high an’, when I do, I realise my head is restin’ on her shoulder an’ she is strokin’ my damp hair. My hand goes unerringly to the location of her bite, but the wound has already healed an’ there is just a smear of blood to show it ever existed at all. She marked me. She thinks I’m hers. The beast in me howls its approval, the thought o’ being marked by Marie makin’ me as horny as hell.

Her knees are still pressed against my thighs an’ I push them away, almost fallin’ off the bike in my haste to remove my jeans. When I turn back, she is sittin’ side saddle, languidly lickin’ my come from her fingers, an’ I growl in approval, takin’ her face in my hands an’ crushin’ my lips to hers, tastin’ myself on her tongue.

It doesn’t take long to divest her of her blouse, pants and underwear, but when I make to lower her to the soft grass she grasps my shoulders an’ pulls me back. “No,” she whispers, urgently. “On the bike.”

I nod an’ retake my seat, but when she starts to sit facin’ me I swivel her around to face the handlebars. If she wants to ride the Harley, we’re gonna do this right ……

“Put yer feet on the rests,” I growl, roughly, against her neck. “An’ hold onto the handlebars.”

She does as she is told, leanin’ forward slightly to reach the handlebars, the moonlight slidin’ across the soft curves of her back an’ makin’ her glow like somethin’ out of a dream. I can smell her arousal as I hitch nearer an’ when she looks back at me over her shoulder through the dark fall of her hair, my balls tighten painfully.

She gasps as I press the tip o’ my cock to her slick folds an’ I know this isn’t gonna be gentle. Thanks to jerkin’ me off an’ the bite to my neck, she’s got the beast howlin’ at the door an’ it ain’t gonna be appeased until it’s taken its woman hard an’ fast. Her words to Jean this mornin’ come back, unbidden, to my mind. So she thinks she can handle the Wolverine, does she? Well, here’s yer chance, babe ……

I push forward, roughly, gruntin’ as her slick warmth envelopes me. Normally, I’d stop, pull out an’ enter again several times, makin’ penetration slow an’ easy for my woman. But the beast is in control now an’ it has no concept o’ being gentle. Marie screams as I plunge deep in one single thrust, openin’ her before me an’ plunderin’ her sweetness for my own.

“Oh god ….. Logan! Oh yes …… yes!”

Her frantic cries stoke my desire an’ I pull back, rammin’ forward again with such force that the Harley rattles beneath us. I grasp her hips to steady her, pullin’ her back into me as I begin to thrust hard, a steady growl buildin’ in my chest as the beast claims its woman.

“Can you feel me, Marie? Can you feel how hard I am for you?” I can’t resist tauntin’ her the way she taunted me an’ when I slip a hand down to rub the little nubbin o’ pleasure between her legs she moans deliriously, buckin’ into my fingers.

I can feel her climax buildin’ an’ when it hits she lets go of the handlebars an’ archs back against me with a soft cry, shudderin’ in my arms. As her inner walls clamp down on my cock, I manage two more hard thrusts before my own climax hits an’ she moans at the sensation o’ my hot seed releasin’ deep into her.

Exhausted an’ sweaty, we slump against the handlebars. I can feel aftershocks runnin’ through her body an’ I wait until her breathin’ slows before pullin’ out o’ her an’ reachin’ for my jacket. I place it around her shoulders an’ she smiles up at me, her eyes lazy with the afterglow o’ good sex.

“Wow! That was ……” Words fail her an’ I’m only too happy to supply the one she is lookin’ for.

“Mindblowin’?”

She nods happily an’ I glance down at the Harley beneath us, which is glistening slightly with the results of our union. “Gonna have ta give her a over-haul in the mornin’,” I inform her, guiltily, as I reach down an’ grab my jeans. “I’m not sure if what we just did is good fer the engine.”

“It was certainly good for mine.” Marie tosses me a wink as she hops off the bike an’ I take a moment to admire the way her body moves as she searches among the pile o’ clothin’ for her panties. With my enhanced eyesight, I can see ‘em clearly, but somehow I neglect to pass the information along.

We dress slowly, takin’ every opportunity to caress an’ kiss as the mood takes us. By the time I have retrieved my belt from across the clearin’, she is leanin’ against the bike, eyeing me speculatively as I thread the belt through the loops on my jeans.

“I’m hungry,” she complains, soundin’ like a little girl half her age. “The sex was great, but it’s left me with a huge yearnin’ for steak.”

“No problem.” I quirk an eyebrow. “Harry’s isn’t far away an’ we could always call back here after we’ve eaten?”

The sultry look in her eye gives me the answer to that question better than any words could have done an’ I stride to the bike, eagerly. Sooner we eat, the sooner I can get to have my hands on Marie again.

I hear the soft click of a firearm bein’ cocked just seconds before the scent of a stranger reaches me on the breeze. It’s so faint, I almost miss it, but it’s masked by the overpowerin’ after-scent of our sexual encounter an’ I curse the lapse o’ concentration that has allowed someone to sneak up on me undetected.

I whirl Marie away from the bike an’ into the protection of my arms just seconds before the high powered bullet smacks me in the back o’ the head. It can’t penetrate my adamantium skull, but the impact is enough to rattle my brains and send me to my knees, draggin’ Marie down with me. Another bullet, this time to the base o’ my neck, an’ I haul in a ragged breath, my nerves afire with jagged pain. As blackness seeps in from the edges o’ my vision, I topple slowly forwards. The last thing I hear before oblivion claims me is the sound of another gunshot an’ Marie’s piercin’ scream ……

5. His Dying Breath



He’s down! Oh m’ah god, Logan’s down! What am ah gonna do?

Lying in the cool grass, with my unconscious lover stretched out beside me, I do the one thing I swore I would never do in a situation like this ……

I panic. Pure and simple. Fear washes over me and I whimper softly in the back of my throat as an uncomfortable feeling like freezing water ripples down my spine. There are men out there! With guns! They’ve already taken down Logan and I just know they’re coming for me next.

I glance across at Logan. His face is tilted away from me and I can see the hair at the back of his head is matted with blood. The bullet wound at the base of his neck is still bleeding – I can see it oozing from the wound in the moonlight. Shouldn’t it have healed by now? Shouldn’t he have expelled the bullet from the wound?

I know as sure as day turns into night that something is seriously wrong and it’s this fact alone that penetrates the haze of fear fogging my brain, forcing me to relax and take slow, calming breaths. I’m an X-Man – I’ve faced situations like this one a thousand times before in the Danger Room.

In the Danger Room. I try not to let that thought distract me as I peer around the bike, alert for any sign of movement. Okay, so maybe most of my combat experience has been of the simulated variety, and always with the rest of my team-mates around me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been trained by the best and, right now, that training is the only thing capable of saving Logan and myself from whoever is out there.

I shuffle away from Logan to the other end of the bike, peering around the front tyre at the surrounding trees. Ah can’t see a damn thing! There could be one man out there, or as many as forty, but I can’t see a single one. But they can sure see us, or the bullets that took Logan down wouldn’t have been so well placed. It’s a safe bet that our opponents are wearing night-sights. An’ I’m gonna assume there’s more than one, ‘cause no one in their right mind would ever go up against the Wolverine alone.

So, having concluded that we’re surrounded, what next?

We’re as good as dead unless I can get to the shootists an’ take ‘em out first. But for that I need to be able to find them faster than they can find us. I need to be able to see in the dark. I need ……

…… I need Logan’s enhanced senses.

I crawl quickly back to my lover and turn him onto his back. Even in the moonlight I can see that his face is pale and his breathing is ragged and erratic. There’s something definitely wrong with his healing factor. I need his senses and his tracking skills. But if I take his abilities, I’ll leave him vulnerable to the gunshot wounds and …… he may die.

I pull back, fear of the unknown making me reconsider, but then I feel the cold certainty that we will both definitely die if those men out there find us here and I know that I have to take the risk if we’re going to get out of here alive.

I press my hand to Logan’s cheek. He’s cold and his eyelids flutter erratically as some part of him, buried deep, tries to respond to my touch. I won’t absorb much – just enough to track and scent, that’s all. I take a calming breath and trigger my power.

“Ah’m sorry, Logan, but ah have to do this. Ah don’t have any other choice.”

I gasp as his own unique abilities flow into me, filling me with his essence, his memories – everything that makes him who he is. His most recent memory is the strongest and I blush as I see ‘myself’ entering a woman with white streaks in her hair from behind and sensing the flow of emotion behind the image – the feral pride, the overwhelming sense of possession, and the glorious rush of coming inside the woman ‘I’ love. I feel an answering heat in my own belly and I know that, given the right circumstances, this little foray into my lover’s memories would have me coming in my own panties.

I don’t hold on to him for long – I don’t want to hurt him any more than I have to, and I would prefer to leave him with at least some of his abilities intact. He needs his healing factor far more than I do. I push his memories aside for now, concentrating instead on the feral senses I now possess. The world around me is frighteningly different – the clearing almost seems as bright as day after my own limited outlook. Logan has had a lifetime to hone the abilities that I now have just seconds to learn how to control and I struggle to make sense of the rush of information being presented to my brain by my new enhanced senses. But I can scent at least five men out there and all of them are carrying firearms, if the scent of gun-oil is anything to go by. They’ve been hanging back, probably waiting to see if their prey is playing possum, but at least two of them are now moving in, from opposite sides of the clearing.

These are the men I need to take down first.

I concentrate on the one approaching from this side of the bike. I can’t see him yet as he’s still in the trees, but I can hear his feet treading softly through the undergrowth. And he’s scared – his heart is beating wildly at the thought of confronting the legendary Wolverine. Good. His fear will make him sloppy.

I crawl off into the grass, heading for the trees directly between the two men. I hate leaving Logan alone, but the bulk of the bike will protect him from the man approaching from the other side of the clearing and, by the time he gets too close, I should, god willing, have dispatched the first man.

Once I reach the trees I stand and set off at a run, my feet making scarcely a sound as I flit from cover to cover. Ordinarily, I would never be able to move like this, but my lover’s instincts are ruling my body, telling me exactly where to place my feet in order to make as little sound as possible. The feeling is exhilarating and a rush to my senses and, if the moment wasn’t so desperate, I would throw my head back and laugh with the sheer joy of it.

I slow when I see my quarry come into view. He’s moving stealthily through the long grass and, as luck would have it, he’s very near to the tree-line. I won’t have far to leap when I make my move.

I choose a tree and duck behind it, not even needing to look out to know exactly where my prey is. My hands itch around the knuckles and I curl them into fists, wishing I could have my lover’s claws right now. The lethal blades would come in useful, but my bare knuckles will have to do.

As the shootist draws level with my tree, I drop into a crouch and hurl myself out of hiding, resisting the urge to indulge in one of Logan’s infamous battle-howls. I tackle the man low, taking his legs out from under him and hearing a muted ‘oof’ as he hits the ground. I have no desire to touch this guy – anyone crazy enough to take on the Wolverine is not a person I want taking up permanent residence in my head – and so I wrap my arms around his neck and twist. I hear a satisfying snap and his flailing body goes still.

I hold my breath for a moment, expecting to hear a shout, a gunshot, anything to show that this guy’s sudden disappearance has been noticed. But I hear nothing and, when I roll to my knees to peer through the grass in the direction of the bike, I suddenly know why.

The second shootist has moved faster than I expected and is standing over Logan, pointing his weapon directly at my lover’s face.

Two things happen simultaneously – I leap forward, all pretence at stealth gone, screaming my lover’s name, as the lover in question surges to his feet, howling like a madman and swinging his claws in a wide arc at the shootist’s neck. The results are predictable and gorily dramatic.

A hail of bullets erupts from the three men still in hiding and Logan howls once more, dropping to one knee as he takes a bullet in the side. He sees me charging across the grass and struggles upright, roaring my name.

“Rogue!”

By the time I reach him, he is on the bike with the motor running, and I see the remaining three shootists running through the grass towards us. Logan can obviously see them too, because he aims a vicious snarl at the nearest one and has the satisfaction of seeing the man falter.

My lover looks dreadful – his face is pale and sweaty and he is covered in blood, both his own and the shootist’s. His breathing rattles in his chest and, when he gestures at me to get on the bike behind him, it’s with the stunted movements of a man in a lot of pain.

I shake my head at him, pushing him back and vaulting on to the bike in front of him. “Don’t take offence, sugah, but ya look dead on your feet. If ya pass out while drivin’ ah don’t give much for our chances.”

The fact that he doesn’t argue with me lends mute testament to how bad he really feels.

I haven’t a clue how to drive a bike, but I access Logan’s memories and send it careering towards the trees, my eyes already picking out the rabbit track ahead. I hear a couple of cracks ring out behind us and I feel Logan jerk and hear him grunt and I know he’s been shot again. My heart cries out in pain for him.

“Logan? You okay, sugah?”

A moment’s silence, then, “M’fine, Marie. Jus’ go.”

His voice is rough – he’s hurting – but I don’t get time to dwell on this as the rabbit track is upon us and I send the bike hurtling through the trees. If not for Logan’s feral instincts and sight I would have wrapped the Harley around the nearest tree – I’m having enough trouble keeping it upright on the uneven ground as it is, and I scream as the front wheel hits a furrow and we begin to slide out of control ……

Logan’s arm snakes around me and he grabs the handlebar, simultaneously putting a foot to the ground and correcting our forward motion. But the effort costs him dearly and he slumps against my back as he relinquishes control to me once more.

We rocket out of the trees onto the dirt road …… and straight into the path of an armoured truck.

“Oh, geez ……!” I gun the engine and speed up in an effort to put as much distance between us and the truck’s huge wheels as possible. “They’ve got flamin’ reinforcements!”

Logan’s only answer is a non-committal grunt. His arms around my waist are painfully tight – almost a death-grip – and I pat his hand reassuringly, knowing that each jolt on this dirt road must be agony for him.

There’s a strange sounding click from the truck behind us and the hair on my neck literally stands on end. “What the hell was that?”

I feel Logan move as he looks behind us and then his breath is hot on my ear as he leans in close. “Don’t look back, Marie! Just go! Go!”

I don’t need telling twice. The engine roars as the bike shoots forward, just as a hail of bullets peppers the ground behind us. “They’re shootin’ at us!”

“No! Ya think?” Logan’s voice is laced with pained sarcasm. “They’ve got a machine gun mounted on top o’ the truck. If they hit the bike, we’re goners. Ya gotta move, Marie!”

“I’m trying!” And I am, too, literally weaving across the narrow track in an effort to throw the sights of the gunner behind us. The big truck all but fills the track, its sides brushing the overhanging branches.

They open fire again and I hear a metallic ping as a bullet hits the bike and then a grunt from Logan. Christ, they’ve shot him again!

“Rogue?” Oh, geez, he sounds awful. I risk a quick glimpse behind me – his face is ashen and there’s a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. Oh, Logan …… “Keep yer eyes ahead, Rogue. Ya gotta do somethin’ fer me.” He’s using my codename, which means …… Oh god, were gonna fight! “When I give the signal, pull over ta the side o’ the track an’ hit the brakes. We’re gonna let the truck go past.”

“Go past …… ? Christ, Logan, there isn’t room! They’ll hit us!”

“Just do it, Rogue!” His tone leaves no room for argument and I nod, silently.

I tighten my grip on the handlebars and focus ahead, my expression determined. There’s a section of road coming up where the trees are set back slightly, leaving a grassy area at the side of the road and I know Logan is planning on staging his ambush there. I grit my teeth, awaiting his signal.

“Now!”

He barks the command and I swerve onto the grass, simultaneously hitting the breaks. Unable to stop in time, the truck thunders past and Logan unsheathes his claws, ramming them into the front wheel with a fierce roar.

The truck shudders as the wheel collapses, spinning it around and then flipping it as the opposite wheel digs into a rut in the road. It crashes into the trees just ahead of us, resting drunkenly on the roof, the machine gun lying crushed beside it.

“Let’s go!” Logan sheathes his claws, but I get a glimpse of his hand and the wounds aren’t healing.

“Your hand …… ?”

“Go!”

Helplessly, I set the bike to the road again and we roar past the disabled truck. A couple of dazed looking men are clambering out of the front.

We encounter no further resistance and I head for the main road, not even thinking of reducing speed. Logan urgently requires medical attention and the sooner he gets it, the better.

We both spot the camper and trailer blocking the end of the dirt road at exactly the same time.

“Logan!”

“I know. I see it.”

“But it’s ……”

“I know ……!”

It’s the same camper we passed hours ago on the way to the clearing. That it’s here now, blocking the roadway, means ……. it means we’re in a hell of a lot o’ trouble, that’s what it means.

The vehicle is blocking the entire road – there’s no way past it on either side and the trees grow so thick to the edge of the road that there’s no way to get through them. But Logan leans past me, grasping the handlebars to either side of my hands and hunching over me.

“Keep yer head down, Rogue, an’ hang on,” he growls, warningly, in my ear.

“But what …… ?” He can’t be thinking of going through the camper, can he? He’s crazy! He might survive the impact, but I certainly wouldn’t, the protection of Logan’s arms or not. And what about the bike?

I’m about to protest when I see it – the fallen tree at the side of the road. It’s broken off half way up the trunk and collapsed parallel to the roadway, with the highest end facing the camper. And with a jolt of absolute dread, I realise what he’s planning to do.

“No! Oh god, Logan, you can’t! We’ll be killed! Or worse!”

“Jus’ hang on, darlin’,” is his only reply.

Somehow, he manages to wring a burst of extra speed out of the engine and that fallen tree is in front of us far faster than I expected – or even hoped. Logan makes the bike do a little hop and then we’re roaring up the fallen trunk, with a huge drop and a big expanse of nothing between us and freedom. And below us is a crappy old camper which is even now spewing out a troop of body-armoured men, all carrying guns. If the fall doesn’t kill us, the men with guns will.

We’re between a rock and a hard place.

And, curse me for a fool, but I actually start to laugh.

The end of the tree is upon us and the bike takes off, wheels spinning as though trying to find purchase on the air. Logan heaves back on the handlebars, trying to keep the front end up – if we hit the road on the front wheel we’ll flip and that’ll be all she wrote. But the camper is looming ahead of us, and it soon becomes apparent that we’re descending too fast. With our combined weight, the bike is too heavy and we’re going to hit.

“Oh shiiiiit!”

I can’t help it – I squeeze my eyes shut. If death is coming, I don’t want to watch and maybe he’ll miss me. I can feel Logan frantically fighting the bike and then there’s a sickening crunch as we hit something and bounce. The bike slews sideways and Logan grunts, hauling on the handlebars. Then there’s a huge jolt, a smattering of gunfire, we skid sideways before the wheels find purchase and suddenly we’re roaring forward again.

“Ya can open yer eyes now, darlin’.”

I do so, tentatively, to find us barrelling down the road that leads, inevitably, to the mansion. I don’t believe it! We jumped the camper! We’re back on the goddamn road!!

“What happened?” I ask, twisting around slightly so that I can see my lover’s face. His skin is beginning to take on a ghastly grey pallor.

“Hit the roof,” he explains, his eyes never leaving the road. “Any lower an’ we’d have gone right through the flamin’ cab …… but …… we ……”

“Logan!” I scream as his eyes close and his body begins to slide sideways, threatening to drag us over. I make a wild grab for the handlebars as the bike wobbles alarmingly, my right hand reaching behind me to grab hold of Logan’s jacket, clinging on for dear life. I am not going to lose him! I will not!! “Logan, for heaven’s sake, stay with me!”

He groans and his eyes flutter open, quickly taking in our predicament. His arms go around my waist and tighten, locking him in place. “Marie …… I ……” His voice is a painful wheeze.

I try to ignore the tears welling up in my eyes and concentrate on keeping us both on the bike. “We’re nearly there, sugah. Just hang on. Ah’ll get us home.”

“Marie ……”

He’s passed out. I can tell by the weight on my back. His head is resting on my shoulder and I can hear his breath wheezing in and out with a wet rattle. Oh, god, Logan, hang on. Please hang on.

The journey back to the mansion is the longest I have ever taken in my entire life. The road seems to go on for ever and I alternate between moments of perfect lucidity - during which I talk to Logan, hardly caring whether he can hear me or not just as long as I assure him of my love for him and that I will get him home safely – and moments when I cry floods of devastated tears, hardly able to see the road ahead through my misery, cursing the men who’s dirty sneak attack has led to this and hoping they all burn in hell.

And then the gates to the mansion are ahead of us and I cry out with joy, knowing that help will soon be at hand.

“Logan, we’re here! Ah got ya back safely, sugah!”

There is no answer, but I didn’t expect one and, as I trigger the little switch next to the handgrip which transmits a code to open the gates, I likewise open my mind, screaming mentally for attention.

Professor! Jean! Logan’s hurt! Help me!

*We’re on our way, Rogue*

I take the turn into the driveway without slowing, narrowly missing the still opening gates. The bright lights of the mansion are now before me, beckoning me on, promising refuge and the welcome companionship of friends and family and my heart lifts with the knowledge that we’re safe.

The front door opens to reveal Scott and Jean silhouetted against the light in the hallway and, distracted, I hit a rut in the gravel. The bike slews sideways, spilling us both to the ground, and sliding on its side to hit the porch steps with a resounding crash. Concerned for Logan, I scrabble to my knees, heedless of the cuts and scrapes on my hands caused by the sharp gravel, my thoughts for my lover and for him alone. He’s not moving and I roll him onto his back just as Scott and Jean reach us.

“Jean, he’s hurt! Help him! Please!”

They go down to their knees beside my lover and suddenly there are a pair of arms around me, pulling me back, giving Jean room to work and I look up into the fathomless blue eyes of our weather witch, Ororo, seeing my misery reflected there.

“Oh god, ‘Ro, he’s hurt. He’s hurt so bad ……”

She strokes my hair, shushing me, assuring me that everything will be alright, that Logan will be fine, and I believe her, until she breaks off with a gasp and falls silent, and I look around to see what’s wrong and find Jean staring at me with panic stricken eyes.

I pull away from Ororo’s arms. “What are you doing?” I demand. “Why aren’t you helping him?”

I look from Jean to Logan, lying so still and silent on the ground, and I know. God help me, I know, and my heart breaks.

“No,” I whisper and my voice breaks on the word. I look back to Jean and she’s crying, silent tears rolling down her face and Scott is gathering her into his arms and my Logan is still lying on the ground.

“He’s not breathing.” Jean’s voice is barely more than a whisper, but I can hear every word as if she were shouting in my ear. “He’s dead, Rogue. Logan’s dead ……”

6. A Life Worth Living



Ah can’t believe he’s gone.

It seems like just minutes since we were making love in that perfect clearing, our whole lives before us promising nothing but the joyous union of two people completely in love. And now he’s gone. And I’ll never again see his eyes light up with the amusement he tries so hard to conceal. I’ll never feel the warm touch of his hand on mine or hear him breathe my name so tenderly. He’s gone and he’s taken my heart with him.

I’ll never love again. How can any man ever compare to Logan?

Oh dear Lord, ah never knew losing a loved one could be so painful ……

I almost don’t hear the knock that sounds at the door, but I ignore it anyway. They’ll go away if I keep silent. I just want to lie here on Logan’s bed, alone, and remember the nights we shared. We had so little time, but I’ll remember the few days we had forever ……

The knock comes again, this time accompanied by a tentative query. “Rogue?”

It’s Jubilee. She was in the hallway when I ran past her on my way to Logan’s room, escaping the sight of my lover’s torn and bloodied body being carried to the med-lab. I had to get away. I can’t remember him like that. I need to remember him the way he was this afternoon – strong …… vital …… and so alive.

I break down and bury my face in Logan’s pillow, heaving huge breathless sobs.

“Rogue?” The door opens and my best friend looks in, her face registering shock as she notices me curled up on the bed. “Oh god, Rogue ……”

She crosses the floor quickly and I feel the bed tilt as she sits on the edge. Her hand touches my arm, tentatively. “Rogue? Speak to me, Rogue. I’m here for you.”

“Jubilee?” I roll over, looking up at my friend with tear-stained eyes. “Oh god, Jubes, he’s dead ……” And I fling myself into my friend’s arms, crying helplessly, while she strokes my hair and just holds me, soothing me with meaningless whispered words.

It’s some time before my sobs quieten, and she holds me all the while, making no demands of me, just allowing me to cry myself out. And I’m grateful for that, because I have no words right now – no words to describe how I feel, how empty my heart is without my love. How my life no longer has meaning.

I eventually push away from my friend – scooting back on the bed to lean against the headboard. I scrub the back of my hand across my eyes and Jubilee hands me a tissue from the box on the bedside table, into which I blow my nose noisily. Jubilee stays on the edge of the bed, saying nothing, just being there for me, giving me time to come to terms with my loss.

My loss ……..

God, ah miss him so much ……..

We sit there for some time in silence, sharing each other’s pain, listening to the sounds of the mansion going on around us. The sounds of life. I can hear muted voices from downstairs – Jubilee’s left the bedroom door open and sounds seem to carry so well here – then an upraised voice, a door being slammed in anger. Something’s going on. I look to Jubilee, but she only shakes her head. I guess she doesn’t know what’s happening either.

She makes to get up and close the door. “No, leave it.” I feel so bad, but I don’t want to be cut off right now. I wanted to be alone before, but now I think some part of me wants the door open so that I can listen for the sound of him coming back to me. I keep imagining I hear his booted feet coming along the hallway, but it’s only the creaking of the mansion’s old boards. But I can’t bear to close the door – to shut him out.

I reach for another tissue and Jubilee takes it as a sign. She captures my hand with her own. “What happened, Rogue? If you want to talk about it now, I’m here.”

“We were ambushed, Jubilee.” The words come out of me in a rush – they can’t be denied. And maybe if I say them fast enough, it’ll all turn out to be some silly nightmare. “He …… Logan …… was shot and …… his healing factor just …… shut down. He wasn’t healing and he just got worse and ……”

Jubilee leans forward. “They took him downstairs. Do you want to see him?”

“No! Yes ……” I sigh, heartsick and mentally confused. “Ah don’t know, Jubes. Ah want to …… ah should do ……. But ah don’t want to see him all shot up like he was. It’s …… not Logan ……”

“We don’t have to go down now, if you don’t want to,” Jubilee assures me, gently. “There’s time. We can go down in the morning, if you want to. Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

“Ah don’t think ah can sleep, Jubilee.”

“Rest then. Stay here. I’ll go down to the kitchen and make some hot milk. My foster mom always swore by hot milk at times like these.”

“Thanks, Jubes. That would be nice.”

She makes to leave, but is brought up short by the sudden appearance of Scott in the open doorway. He looks around the room as if seeing it for the first time, and then turns his attention to the both of us sitting on the bed. No, to me. Jubilee, he ignores completely.

“The Professor wants to see you in his study, Rogue.”

Well, thanks for asking how ah’m doing, Scott. Ah’m doing fine, thank you, considering my lover’s just been shot to death.

Jubilee, bless her, jumps immediately to my defence. “Well, you can tell the Professor she’s not coming right now. In case you’ve not noticed, she’s just lost someone dear to her and ……”

Jubilee might not have spoken at all. “That wasn’t a request, Rogue. The Professor wants to see you and he meant now.”

“That’s the most hard-hearted ……”

I put my hand on Jubilee’s arm, halting her tirade. “It’s alright, Jubes. Ah’ll go.” Maybe keeping my mind occupied will take the pain away. Or at least lock it away for a time so that I can’t feel it anymore.

I get to my feet and walk from the room. Scott steps back as Jubilee and I move past him into the hallway, but then I make him wait as I close the door behind me. This is Logan’s room. I don’t want anyone going in there but me.

We walk in silence down the hallway, but I can tell that Scott wants to say something and is holding himself back only by great effort. Jubilee trails along behind, unofficially becoming my watch-dog and letting me know without words needing to be said that she intends to accompany me to the Professor’s study. I hope he doesn’t try to keep her out. Jubilee is a force to be reckoned with when she’s in protective mode.

A few of the students peek out of their rooms as we pass – I guess the news has travelled fast. Most duck back out of sight immediately, afraid to meet my eye, but Bobby raises a slow hand, his eyes reflecting my sadness, and I nod my head in recognition of his honesty.

At the top of the stairs, Scott can contain himself no longer and he finally decides to get his concerns off his chest, putting his hand out to bar the way as I make for the first step. “So what were you doing this evening, Rogue? What were you doing that just happened to involve you and Logan being shot at?”

“Ah don’t think that’s any of your business, Scott,” I counter, putting my hand on the banister and turning to face him. “That’s something ah will discuss with Xavier, and him alone.”

I push past Scott’s arm and put my foot on the first riser, only to jerk back up as Scott grabs my arm and pulls me around to face him. “Hey!”

“I know what you were doing out there, Rogue,” he spits into my face. “You were fucking him in a field like some goddamn animal! Don’t try to deny it!”

“Get off me!” I jerk my arm back, but his grip is tight and his fingers are starting to press into my arm, painfully. “You’re hurting me!”

“You’d better let her go, Mr Summers.” Jubilee has her hands up and I know she is just seconds away from unleashing her fireworks. “You may be a senior member of the X-Men, but you have no right to talk to her that way.”

“I have every right, Jubilee, so keep your observations to yourself!” Scott glowers at my friend and then turns back to me, shaking my arm to keep my attention and making me wince with pain. His fingers are gonna leave bruises, I just know it. His visor flashes dangerously as he continues his verbal assault on me. “You know, I actually had a higher opinion of you, Rogue. But now ……?” He shakes his head, dismissively. “You disgust me, Rogue. You’re nothing but a two bit whore ……!”

My fist connects sharply with Scott’s face, sending him tumbling back against the wall with a startled gasp. Blood is pouring from his broken nose and he quickly adjusts his visor, which I have knocked askew. If not for his fast reflexes, me and Jubes would probably be nothing more than a memory right about now.

But all this is irrelevant as I stand over him, fists raised and fury sparking in my eyes. “Ah don’t care who you think you are, Mister, but you will never speak to me like that again! Do you understand? Never!”

Scott looks up at me, nursing his wounded face. “You broke my nose, you little bitch!”

“Speak to me like that again, Scott, and ah’ll break more than your nose. Come on, Jubilee. The Professor’s waiting.” I march down the stairs and Jubilee tosses Scott a triumphant glare as she follows me.

By the time I reach the ground floor, I am shaking like a leaf and shock is beginning to set in. I collapse against the wall, clinging to a small table for support. “Oh m’ah god, Jubilee! Ah just decked Scott! Ah broke an X-Man’s nose!”

“Well, he bloody well deserved it.” As expected, Jubilee is completely in my corner and has no sympathy for the recipient of my fist. “He was well outta line, and he knew it.”

“But what if he reports me to the Professor?” I counter. “Christ, Jubilee, ah’m gonna be expelled!”

“He can’t expel you, you teach here,” Jubilee informs me, reasonably.

“Fired then! What am ah gonna do?”

“Well, first off, we’re gonna take you to see the Prof like he asked. We’ll take everything from there.” Jubilee helps me away from the table and supports me as she leads me down the hallway. Bless her. Whatever would I do without her?

My heart starts to pound painfully as we stop outside the Professor’s study. Jubilee knocks twice and the Professor’s rich tones bid us enter.

He rolls forward to greet us as we open the door and go in, and his face is warm and friendly. The room is empty apart from himself and Storm, who is sitting quietly in a chair near his desk.

“Welcome, Rogue. I thought you might like some company, so I arranged for Ororo to attend, but I see that you’ve brought your own moral support.” He indicates my watch-dog.

I step forward, face repentant. It’s best if I get what I’ve just done to Scott out in the open as soon as possible. “Professor, ah ……”

Xavier holds up a hand, stopping me in mid confession. “I know what just transpired between you and Scott, Rogue, and rest assured that I will not be expelling you, or firing you, or exacting any other form of punishment your mind sees fit to conjure up. Scott has been informed that he is not welcome in my presence until his attitude is adjusted. It will not happen again, Rogue, I assure you.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Now, Rogue, I need you to tell me exactly what transpired this evening.” The Professor turns and begins to motor back to his desk, leaving me to sink into the remaining chair. Jubilee stands protectively at my side. “I am sorry for making you re-live the events so soon after they occurred, but time is of the essence if we are to find out exactly why and how Wolverine was killed. Jean and Henry are currently conducting an autopsy, but your first hand experience of the affair would be most valuable.”

“An autopsy?” My face pales and I lean forward in my seat, actually feeling sick. “Oh god ……”

“I am sorry, Rogue, but it is necessary if we are to find out how Wolverine’s healing factor was negated. As is your testimony. So, please, leave nothing out. The slightest detail could be of the utmost importance.”

I nod, shakily, taking a deep breath to calm myself and trying not to think of what Jean and Henry are doing to Logan down in the med-lab. Fighting back the tears, I begin my story.

I leave nothing out.


oooOOOooo



Where the hell am I?

The last thing I remember was being shot at in my clearin’, but this definitely ain’t my clearin’ anymore. An’ where’s Marie? An’ my bike?!

I look down at the snow beneath my feet an’ then back up to the trees towerin’ high above me. Somethin’ about this place seems strangely familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Have I been here before? A little naggin’ voice at the back o’ my head is tellin’ me this place is important to me, but I don’t remember jack-squat. Well, ain’t that a bitch?

If I’m gonna find out where I am, I guess I’d better start walkin’. Can’t stand around in the snow all day – I ain’t exactly dressed for winter weather. I turn full circle, tryin’ to get my bearin’s, then shrug, pickin’ a direction at random. I’ll head up-hill. Maybe I’ll spot a familiar landmark?

The more I walk, the more I become convinced I’ve been here before. Little things keep jumpin’ out at me, pullin’ at my memory, callin’ to me – that rock, a stand o’ trees. But I can’t figure it out, an’ it’s really startin’ to piss me off when I break outta the tree-line to find myself standin’ on a high plateau, with a mountainous vista all around me. The beauty o’ the scenery takes my breath away an’ I stand for a moment, lettin’ the peace an’ serenity wash over me.

I know this place. I’m sure of it.

Pullin’ my gaze from the mountains, I glance around the plateau an’ notice a small cabin not far away, smoke curlin’ idly from its single chimney. Again, I get that feelin’ that this place is important to me in some way an’, before I realise what I’m doin’, I’m walkin’ towards the cabin, intent on reachin’ it an’ going inside. If I can just get inside, everything’ll be alright.

The cabin calls to me as I get nearer an’ I step onto the wooden porch with a feelin’ o’ trepidation – nervous for the first time in my life – or as near as I can remember, at any rate. This place is gettin’ to me worse than I thought.

I reach out a hand an’ the door opens easily at my touch, almost as though it had been waitin’ for me. Bright light floods out, bathin’ me in its warmth. I breathe deeply an’ the place smells welcomin’ an’ friendly.

It smells like home.

“Logan?”

I turn, startled, to find a woman standin’ just off the porch, smilin’ at me, her eyes warm with recognition. Again, I get that feelin’ that she is important to me in some way, but no name jumps to my mind to accompany the image o’ her.

“Do I know you?” I ask.

For a moment, her eyes cloud with sadness, so fleetin’ that I think I’ve imagined it, but then her smile is back. “I don’t know. Do you think you know me?” she asks, in return.

I should be surprised by her answer, but I’m not. Nothin’ surprises me about this place anymore. I gesture around the plateau. “This place feels familiar to me,” I reply.

She looks around, as if seein’ the cabin for the first time. “It was a special place. Long ago.” She nods towards the door. “Are you going inside?”

“I was plannin’ to.”

“Don’t.”

Now that does surprise me. “Why not?” I ask, foldin’ my arms an’ rockin’ back on one foot.

“Because it’s not your time.”

“My time? My time for what?”

She doesn’t answer an’ I look back at the doorway behind me. I can’t see inside, past the light, but it still feels as though the place is callin’ to me. I turn back to the woman. “Have you been inside?”

“No. Not since the other time.”

“The other time o’ what?” This woman talks in goddamn riddles! She’s worse than McCoy!

She chooses to answer my question with another riddle. “Logan, if you go inside you will cease to be. It isn’t your time.”

“Y’know, this is startin’ ta get annoyin’. I want answers, an’ I want them now. “Look, lady, ya keep callin’ me by name an’ yet I don’t know yours. Do you know me or not?”

That sad look is back in her eyes. “Yes, I knew you. Once. A long time ago. But you know another now.” She gestures strangely with the fingers o’ one hand an’ an image appears in the air between us. An image of a girl sittin’ on a bed being comforted by another. A girl I know well.

“Marie!”

“Yes, Logan, Marie. She needs you. You promised to protect her. And if you go in there ……” she nods towards the cabin, “…… you will never be able to keep that promise. You will cease to be. And you will never be able to go back.”

I look back at the cabin an’ then again at the image o’ Marie an’ my claws slowly slide out o’ their housings, summoned by my distress. The cabin is callin’ me home, but its voice is gettin’ weaker now, more faint. I think it realises it’s losin’ me. ‘Cause I know where I belong an’ it ain’t in the wilderness, alone an’ unloved. It’s with Marie – my Marie …… Always has been, always will be.

“How do I get back?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

“Just walk away,” responds the woman. “Walk into the image. Go back to her, Logan.”

My claws sheath themselves with a decisive ‘snakt’ and I hold my head high. The decision is made – I know where I belong. An’ I step down off the porch an’ walk into the image ……

An’ just like that, I’m gone ……

Behind me, Kayla Silverfox wipes away a single tear an’ dismisses the image with a wave of her hand.

“Goodbye, my love ……” she whispers, softly, an’ calmly an’ without fear, she walks into the cabin ……

7. Angel at My Bedside



Have you ever been hurt so badly that you can hear this dreadful high-pitched howlin’ all around you, only to drift into consciousness to realise that the sound you can hear is the sound o’ yourself, screamin’ with the pain? Pain that goes so deep it feels like it’s become a part of your soul, creepin’ through your system like an evil disease, torturing your very senses until you pray for the blessed release o’ death?

I have.

An’ believe me, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

I can’t remember much o’ the time between my journey to the cabin an’ wakin’ up alive an’ well back at the mansion, only that I spent most of it driftin’ in an’ out o’ consciousness, delirious as the fever ate at my body, sendin’ nightmares that were almost as hard to fight as the pain. I have fleetin’ images o’ something blue hoverin’ above me as I cried out in agony, clenchin’ my fists so hard that my claws would extend an’ rend the sheets. Other times, a soft voiced angel would sit at my bedside, readin’ stories from a leather-bound book, or just murmurin’ to me in gentle soothin’ tones, whisperin’ words that I didn’t understand but which banished the nightmares all the same, pavin’ the way for blessed sleep.

An’ then there were the times that the beast would exert its control, tryin’ to take over while the man lay at death’s door, rearin’ up from the depths to claw, an’ rend, an’ scratch, all the while howlin’ its bloody vengeance an’ declarin’ its dominance over those who would defend the man within. I have a feelin’ I was restrained durin’ these periods, heavy weights draggin’ me down onto whatever I was tied to, keepin’ me from movin’, from hurtin’ those who were only tryin’ to help me.

If not for my angel, I woulda given in, allowed the beast to dominate. It seemed too easy – give him the control an’ forget about the pain, forget about everything but the need to run free. Only my angel’s voice was able to call me back from the dark side o’ my soul – only she was able to convince me that there was something – someone – waitin’ for me to come back, to return from the worse times o’ myself.

But, for the most part, my healin’ factor kept me unconscious, slippin’ me into the healin’ coma that allows my body to repair life threatenin’ injuries without further interference from its worst enemy – me. Sometimes I forget that I’m not completely indestructible – I will fight until I can fight no more …… until I’m so shot up, cut up, burned out or bloodied that I’m unrecognisable. The healin’ coma is my body’s way o’ sayin’ ‘enough’s enough’. It shuts me down, renderin’ me immobile, allowin’ my body to heal. It’s slow, always painful, an’ leaves me with the devil of an appetite afterwards. But it’s effective ……. an’ it’s kept me alive for longer than I can remember.

This time is no different. Given enough time, I’ll recover from just about anything. I’m the proverbial bad penny. Whatever the bad guys do to me, I just keep bouncin’ back.

Pity the healin’ factor don’t work on my memories as well as it works on my body. Now that would be a neat trick.

I can tell it’s early mornin’ when I open my eyes, finally free o’ the burnin’ fever that’s been ravagin’ my system for god knows how long. The curtains are drawn, but the light is dim and the mansion is fairly silent around me – durin’ the day there’s a constant rumble of footsteps up an’ down the hallways, always a faint hum o’ background conversation. The first tentative notes o’ birdsong are just startin’ to register to my enhanced hearin’.

I’m in my room. My own room, not some sterile place down in the med-lab, with the stink o’ chemicals an’ antiseptic that always sets me off. Somebody’s obviously realised it would be safer to let me wake up here, rather than down in the lab, where I would be more than likely to come outta my coma with my claws unsheathed an’ a howl on my lips. Safer for me, yeah. But infinitely safer for them.

So, my room – an’ I’m not alone. I can hear someone movin’ around in the bathroom. An’ if the dominant scent weavin’ around me is anything to go by, I know who it is, too. Eagerness to see my girl again prompts me to sit up in preparation for swingin’ my legs outta bed.

Big mistake.

Pain! The moment I start to rise, red hot fire lances across my back, so severe that it forces an agonised gasp from my lips. I fall back to the pillows with a grunt. Jesus! What the hell was that? An’ why haven’t I fully healed?

I close my eyes, tryin’ to breathe around the dull ache in my bones, which is only now startin’ to fade. I hear my bathroom door open an’ Marie’s scent wafts over me, slidin’ down to my very soul an’ makin’ my breath catch with the realisation that she’s near.

Her footsteps move to my bedside an’ my nostrils flare as she leans over me, overwhelming me with her closeness. Something cool an’ damp is laid across my forehead an’, as Marie draws back, I open my eyes an’ look deep into the startlin’ green orbs o’ my lover, feelin’ myself spirallin’ away into their fathomless depths an’ hearin’ her breath catch in her throat as she realises I am awake.

“Logan?” Her voice is low, breathy, an’ laced with no small measure o’ hope.

“Marie ……” My throat is rough, dry an’ painful, an’ my response comes out as barely more than a croak. “Jesus ……!”

“Don’t try to talk, sugah. You’ve taken some damage to your throat.” Marie reaches for a glass o’ water on the bedside table. Slidin’ a hand under the back o’ my neck, she tilts me up so that I can take a sip o’ water from the glass. The cool liquid slides down my throat, quenching the fires that are burnin’ there. I’m normally not a huge fan o’ plain water – I’d much prefer a beer – but right now, this simple liquid tastes like the finest wine to me.

She takes the glass from my lips an’ rests my head back on the pillow. Her eyes never leave mine as she places the glass back on the table, almost as though afraid to let me out of her sight. I close my eyes momentarily as a wave of dizziness passes over me, an’ feel her hand tighten on my arm through the sheet.

“How ……?” Jesus, it’s never been this hard to talk before. I cough an’ try again. “How …… long ……?”

“How long were you out, sugah?” Marie thankfully fills in the blanks. “You’ve been unconscious for four days. You were delirious with fever for three of those.” Her hands busy themselves smoothin’ the sheets across my chest, almost as though she’s afraid to continue. “You were …… you were dead for six hours, Logan. We …… ah thought ah’d lost you.”

Dead? Memories of my strange encounter with the woman outside the cabin slip, unbidden, into my mind. The details are startin’ to grow fuzzy, but I can still feel the sense o’ belongin’ flowin’ from the simple dwellin’. An’ the woman? Who was she? She said she knew me, but how? Were we lovers? An’ if so, why did she send me back to Marie?

Was she dead too?

The confusion I’m feelin’ must be showin’ on my face ‘cause Marie places a cool hand against my cheek. “Sugah? You still with me?”

I nod, not trustin’ my voice. Marie smiles down at me, her eyes filled with such love an’ devotion that I want to enfold her in my arms an’ tell her that everything’s gonna be okay, but my body ain’t feelin’ too responsive right now an’ I can’t get my arms to move. I feel the bed tilt as she sits on the edge, an’ all I can see are her beautiful green eyes gettin’ steadily bigger as she leans down to kiss me tenderly on the lips. I can feel a wetness on my cheek an’ I realise she’s cryin’ an’ I somehow find the strength o’ will to raise my hand an’ tangle it into her hair, runnin’ the silky strands through my fingers as she traces my jawline with tiny pulse-shatterin’ kisses. Her breath is hot on my skin as she nuzzles into my neck an’ I tilt my head back to give her greater access, showin’ her my love with the greatest sacrifice a feral can make.

Complete submission to his mate.

My mate ……? The admission crashes into my thoughts with all the subtlety of a thrown brick, but somehow it feels right. This woman in my arms …… Marie …… she’s the other side o’ myself. She fits my soul the way no other woman has ever done before her. Or ever will again. There’s no goin’ back now. We’re bound body an’ soul. The Wolverine an’ his Rogue. The Beauty an’ her Feral ……

If Marie is aware o’ my sudden epiphany she makes no sign of it as she circles my ear with the tip of her tongue, makin’ shivers ripple through my body at the silky sensation. “Ah thought ah’d lost you,” she whispers, breathily, as she nuzzles closer. “You were gone so long an’ ah thought m’ah heart would surely break.”

“Marie ……” I croak, wantin’ to reassure her that I’ll never leave her again, but gettin’ cut off abruptly as her finger touches my lips.

“Shh,” she whispers against my ear. “Don’t talk now. Just concentrate on gettin’ your strength back. ‘Cause when you’re all well an’ mended, ah’m gonna fuck you till your brains explode.”

My mouth drops open with shock as Marie sits back, gigglin’ at my expression. What the ……? Did she just say what I think she just said? What the hell happened while I was away?

My Marie has become a hellcat.

An’ damn me, I think I like it!

She tucks a finger under my chin and closes my mouth with a click, her eyes sparklin’ with mischief. “Better close up there, sugah. Jean an’ the others are comin’ an’ ya don’t wanna look like a fish.”

Eh? As if on cue, there’s a soft tap at the door an’ it opens to admit the Professor, smilin’ warmly. Jean an’ Henry follow close behind, the latter wearin’ his fightin’ uniform. His fur is damp an’, despite being blue, there’s a flush to his face which suggests he was takin’ advantage of an early mornin’ Danger Room work-out before makin’ this particular house call.

“Logan, welcome back to the land of the living.” Xavier motors across the floor to park beside my bed, draggin’ Jean an’ Henry in his wake. “You gave us quite a scare, you know. Not quite out of the woods yet, I understand, but well on the road to recovery.”

“How …… how did you ……?” Once again, my raspy throat fails me an’ I slam my fist down onto the bedcovers beside me, annoyed with my inability to string a coherent sentence together. Marie pats my hand comfortingly an’ gestures towards the glass on the bedside table, but I shake my head. I will not appear weak in front o’ the Professor.

If he notices my discomfort, Xavier makes no mention of it. Instead, he nods, knowingly. “I think what you were trying to say is ‘How did we know you were awake?’” I nod, silently. “I have been monitoring your state of mind constantly since you …… returned to us, Logan. It was important for us to know the minute you regained consciousness. I have some questions to ask concerning the attack on you and Rogue. I take it you have no idea who those men were, or who they could be working for?”

I shake my head in the negative, and Marie shifts agitatedly on the bed, laying a protective hand on my chest. “Is this really necessary, Professor? He’s very weak an’ ah don’t think he’s ready for this yet.”

“He must be ready, Rogue, there is no time to lose.” Xavier’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Marie huffs, unhappily. “As I told you on the evening of the attack, time is of the essence if we are to track down those responsible and find out why the attack occurred. Who were they and why did they want Logan dead? Will they try again? We must know, Rogue. My own investigations have turned up a little information, but I need the details Logan’s own recollections can provide us with and I need them now. Do you understand?”

Marie nods slowly, an’ the Professor motors back slightly, leavin’ room at my bedside. “Henry, perhaps you could explain it all to Logan far better than I?”

The Beast steps forward with a huge grin plastered to his leonine but friendly face. “Logan! It is good to see you on the road to recovery at last. I am afraid our last meeting two days ago didn’t go quite so well.”

He pulls his jacket aside to reveal three slashes marrin’ the fur on his right side. Claw slashes. My face pales as I realise I am the cause.

“Did …… I …….?”

“Oh, think nothing of it, my friend. It’s all in a day’s work for one such as I, and my own healing factor should have sorted out the worst of it in a few day’s time, although it’s nowhere near the league of your own, of course. I mean, to actually bring one back from death ……”

“Henry.” The Professor’s clipped tone pulls the Beast back to the here an’ now, an’ he actually looks abashed as he digs into his pocket for a small pair of spectacles an’ props them on his nose. “I do apologise, Professor. I have a tendency to lose myself in my musings, do I not? To continue. Jean, the item, if you please.”

He holds out his hand and Jean drops a small grey-lookin’ piece o’ metal into it. Henry holds it between thumb an’ forefinger for me to see. “Do you recognise this?”

I do. It’s a bullet. But before I can say anythin’, the Professor speaks for me.

“He recognises it, Henry.” He’s obviously taken it upon himself to answer for me an’ save my throat, but he’d better not do any rummagin’ around in here. I take my privacy very seriously an’ I get particularly tetchy when it comes to people messin’ with my mind.

The Professor gives me a barely perceptible shake o’ the head. Oops. I think he heard that.

Henry is waitin’ to continue an’ he gestures to the bullet as I return my attention to him. “We dug seven of these out of you, Logan.” Really? That many, huh? I kinda lost count after four. “One of the bullets lodged in your left lung, which is why you’re having trouble breathing. The one in the back of your neck is responsible for the damage to your throat. I’m sorry, Logan, but we’d already started the autopsy at that point, and there didn’t seem to be any reason to be gentle.”

Henry looks down at his feet, ashamed, an’ I almost choke. Jesus! Autopsy?

Jean reaches over to place her hand on his arm. Her face looks a little too pale at this point an’ I reckon I must have given ‘em quite the shock when I came to on their operatin’ table. Must remember ta ask fer details ……

“But back to the point, yes?” Henry makes a valiant effort to pull himself together an’ steps nearer to the bed. He holds up the bullet. “This little piece of metal is carbonadium. As near as I can ascertain from my research, it was stumbled upon by a group of Russian scientists who were trying to synthesise adamantium in order to create their own version of Weapon X.” Oh, Christ, no …… “Whether they were successful in this endeavour or not, is a fact I have been unable to determine. However, I can tell you that carbonadium is a more malleable form of your own prestigious metal. It is strong, but not indestructible. And Logan …… it cancels out your healing factor.”

Henry carries on speakin’, but I zone out, my mind dredgin’ up nightmarish images from deep within, prompted by his choice o’ words – carbonadium …… Weapon X …… Russian scientists …… I know this means somethin’, but all I can see are metal-coloured tentacles, twistin’ an’ writhin’ …… snow …… a flash o’ some guy in fancy body armour …… and then that god-damn glass Genesis tank blots everything out an’ suddenly I am drownin’ in green-blue liquid ……

“Professor!” Marie screams as I fling out a fist in my panic, ejectin’ my claws an’ narrowly missin’ Henry’s leg. He leaps back out of harm’s way as Marie throws herself across my chest, holdin’ me down, shoutin’ at me to sheath my claws, heedless o’ the danger she’s puttin’ herself in. An’ through it all, I can hear the Professor’s voice in my head, talkin’ to me, calmin’ me …… chasin’ away the nightmares ……

I’m pantin’ hard by the time I come out o’ my panic. Marie is still pressed across me, but I have sheathed my claws an’ my chest is heavin’ from my exertions. Marie cautiously pulls back as she realises I’ve quietened an’ I grimace, apologetically.

“M’okay ……” I rasp.

She presses a soft hand to my cheek, her face a mask of concern, but it’s the Professor’s eyes, not Marie’s, that draw my attention. They’re blank, turned inwards as he searches within for answers to what has just occurred – searchin’ my memories. Jesus, he saw ……?

My suspicions are confirmed moments later when he raises a hand to his forehead. “It is clear that you know something of this carbonadium, Logan, but as usual, the information is locked away where you are unable to access the information freely. However, you have given me much to think upon and I am sure this will prove most helpful once I have had the chance to meditate on what I have seen. The man wearing body armour, for instance, seems most familiar ……”

He breaks off an’ looks around as Jean moves forward an’ places a hand on his shoulder. She nods towards me. “I really think we should call it a day for now, Professor. Logan needs to rest.”

“Of course, of course.” Xavier actually looks embarrassed to be reminded of my condition. “I apologise, Logan. Rogue. We will depart at once.”

This is makin’ me look weak but, for once, I ain’t gonna argue. My wakin’ nightmare has left me feelin’ achin’ an’ shaky – the hand that I unsheathed the claws from hasn’t healed properly an’ blood is oozin’ from my knuckles. Marie takes my hand an’ wraps it in a clean tissue almost as soon as I notice, hidin’ the damage. To be brutally honest, I’m feelin’ kinda woozy – my head is poundin’ an’ I would appreciate some peace an’ quiet right about now.

Xavier is already beginnin’ to motor towards the door. “Come, Henry. We must look into this some more. Meet me in the War Room in fifteen minutes.”

“Aye, Professor.” Henry bounds out of the door immediately, presumably to get changed, and the Professor pauses at the entrance to my room, lookin’ back. “Rogue, would you like to be relieved? Jean will stay with Logan if you require rest.”

“No, Professor, ah’m okay.” Marie smiles down at me, tenderly. “He’s my responsibility.”

“As you wish. Come along, Jean, we have work to do.” Xavier motors off down the hallway, oblivious to the fact that Jean has hung back. Or maybe not. He is a telepath after all, right?

Jean moves closer, bitin’ her lip thoughtfully. With a cautious glance to Marie, she takes my hand in hers, mindful o’ the bloodied tissue that is still wrapped around it. I scent a spike o’ jealousy from my girl, but her outward demeanour remains unchanged, no doubt lulling Jean into a false sense o’ security. The redhead had better watch herself – my little hellcat will have her eyes out if she tries anything funny.

Jean leans over me, her green eyes dominatin’ my vision. I used to be captivated by those eyes – longed to have ‘em look at me the way they look at Scott – but I’ve learned that eyes full o’ lust ain’t as meaningful as eyes full o’ love. I’ll take Marie’s eyes over Jean’s any day.

I startle out o’ my reverie as I feel the soft touch o’ Jean’s lips on mine an’ I swear I hear a low growl rumble from Marie’s throat. “I’m pleased you’re going to be okay, Logan,” the redhead whispers, silkily. She pulls back slightly an’ smiles. “God knows the place would be too quiet without you. And who’d keep Scott on his toes?”

I snort through my nose as she releases my hand an’ stands up, walkin’ slowly to the door, where she turns around an’ eyes me speculatively, as if a thought has just occurred to her. “Try not to get shot up again, Logan,” she purrs. “I’d miss you panting after me.”

After deliberately throwin’ that mornin’s words back at me, she grins, slips through the door an’ closes it softly behind her.

Marie is starin’ after her, arms folded, a petulant frown on her face. “Brazen hussy!” She snorts, beginnin’ to straighten my sheets, a little too roughly. “She’d better not be gettin’ any ideas, that’s all ah can say.”

I capture one of her busy hands with my own an’ bring it to my lips. “No …… chance ……” I croak. “Yer …… mine now …… Marie.”

I think I’ve surprised her. Her lips form a perfect little ‘O’ of wonderment an’ a blush colours her cheeks. I let a growl rumble in my chest an’ her blush deepens, prettily. Never underestimate the power of a good growl.

She coughs to cover her embarrassment an’ begins to peel the tissue away from my damaged hand. The cuts have healed now an’ she dabs away the remainin’ blood with a clean tissue. “Well, ah think that went fairly well,” she declares, a little too cheerfully. “O’ course, we coulda done without you springin’ your claws again, but at least ya didn’t shred the pillows this time.”

The pillows ……? Christ, I musta been a handful while I was healin’. My normal nightmares are bad enough, but fever induced nightmares ……? Christ!

Marie’s expression softens as she notices my distress an’ she pats my hand, lovingly. “Don’t worry about it, sugah. We all know you couldn’t help it an’ Henry was the only one to get clawed anyway, an’ he can take it.” She slides my hand back under the covers an’ pats them around me. “Get some rest, sugah. Ah’ll look out for you while you sleep.”

I growl warningly in my throat – I’m the Wolverine, fer Chrissakes, an’ no one mothers the Wolverine! – but she grins back at me unabashed. “Quit the growlin’, y’hear? Your scary feral routine doesn’t scare me!”

Well, it damn well should do, but somehow I can’t find it in my heart to press the argument. My eyes suddenly seem to want to close o’ their own volition an’ the point I wanted to put across don’t seem important no more.

As my healin’ factor takes it upon itself to shut me down once more, her words echo in my head – I’ll watch out for you while you sleep – an’ being the big bad Wolverine don’t seem such a big deal right now. ‘Cause that’s what mates do for each other. Right?

They watch out for each other.

An’ suddenly it feels as though a great weight has been lifted from my heart ……

8. Alone in the Dark



*Thump*

Whuzzat?

The sudden noise invades my dreams, jerkin’ me from my sleep an’ makin’ the hair on the back o’ my neck prickle with the realisation that someone is tryin’ to get into my room. Tentatively, I test the air, the waning scent around me testament to the fact that Marie hasn’t been near for a couple o’ hours at least, an’ I’m pretty sure that this ain’t her - I taught her basic sneakiness better’n this. As my door clicks an’ begins to open, I level out my breathin’ an’ feign sleep, tippin’ my head so that I can keep half an eye on the door. Whoever my not-so-stealthy visitor is, they’ll be sorry they tried to creep up on the Wolverine in the middle o’ the night. Despite my healin’ factor still not being up to scratch, I’m not exactly helpless here, y’know.

My room is dark, but I can still see the figure that slips silently around the door, pausing to gesture animatedly to an accomplice who is still hoverin’ uncertainly in the hallway. The second figure joins the first an’ before my eyes can even begin to pick out facial details, their scent reaches me an’ I groan inwardly, wishin’ the ground would open up an’ swallow me whole.

Ah shit ……. I’m doomed ……

It really couldn’t be a lot worse. Magneto an’ Sabretooth could waltz in here right now an’ I wouldn’t bat an eye. Hell, even Scooter would get a civil ‘hello’, right before I sent him packin’ again. But I really musta done somethin’ downright evil in a past life to warrant a sickbed visit from Jubilee an’ Kitty.

Maybe I kicked puppies, or somethin’ …… ?

The point is, it’s almost three in the mornin’ an’ unless school rules have been relaxed drastically while I’ve been away with the fairies, these two should be safely tucked up in bed dreamin’ about the latest movie heart-throb. An’ I ain’t talkin’ about Remy Lefreakin’Beau here. He may be a heart-throb to some, but to me he’s just a pain in the ass. Referrin’ to yerself in the third person is not my idea o’ sexy.

So I’m guessin’ that my two visitors have a reason for sneakin’ into my room at three in the mornin’, although I’ll be damned if I know what it is. They haven’t just mistaken my door for theirs – I ain’t pickin’ up any trace o’ alcohol so they ain’t drunk. An’ there ain’t any alarms blarin’ out in the hallway, so they haven’t come to defend my honour against a sneak attack by the Brotherhood. To be honest, I’d rather go four rounds with Magneto than be cornered by Jubilee any day – at least he doesn’t try to talk me to death while rippin’ my claws out.

“Just put it on the bedside table, Jubes, and let’s go.” Kitty’s whisper is loud to my sensitive ears as she looks fearfully around my room. “I really don’t think we should be here.”

“Chill, ‘cat, we have permission.” They have? “Besides, he’s asleep. It’s not as if he can hear us.”

Okay, she really shouldn’ta said that, ‘cause my evil sense o’ humour is now picturin’ all kinds o’ mischief.

I’m just contemplatin’ unsheathin’ my claws to see what mayhem I can incite when I smell it …… Food ……

My mouth waters, an’ suddenly I have more spit than I know what to do with.

Jubilee moves nearer an’ the delicious smell o’ roast chicken grows stronger. My stomach growls in response an’ it takes all my self control not to leap from the bed, tackle the kid to the ground an’ steal the food. I’ve normally got more restraint than this, I’m relieved to point out, but my healin’ coma depletes my body’s energy levels far faster than normal, with the result that once I’m awake I have to eat, quickly an’ regularly. An’ the smell o’ that roast chicken now is drivin’ me crazy.

Okay, so there are two ways I can play this. I can pretend to wake, get my food an’ spend the next three hours havin’ my ears pummelled by Jubilee’s incessant chatter. Or I can play possum, wait until they leave an’ eat my food in peace.

It’s no contest. I’m really not sure my healin’ factor can deal with the kind o’ damage Jubilee can inflict on a person’s sanity, so I opt for the lesser o’ the two evils.

Unwisely, as it turns out.

Jubilee weaves across my darkened room, one hand held out in front o’ her as she gropes her way to my bedside, the other holdin’ a covered plate, an’ the mouth-waterin’ aroma o’ the chicken is growin’ more tantalisin’ with each step she takes. I usually prefer my meat rare – on occasion, raw – but when my energy levels are this low I’ll eat anything. I can almost taste the tender flesh in my mouth ……

She’s only about a foot away when it happens …… Her toe snags on something – the rug, a loose board, I dunno – an’ she pitches forward, flingin’ out a hand to arrest her fall …… a hand that comes down squarely an’ heavily right on my groin.

I howl in pain an’ shock, all pretense at sleep abandoned as Jubilee scrabbles backwards, her hands pressin’ in all sorts o’ awkward places in her haste to get off me.

“Oh shit! Lights, ‘cat, quick!” she yells.

Through the haze o’ pain, I realise what’s gonna happen. “No!” I roar, flingin’ out a hand to the figure still waitin’ in the doorway, too late to stop her from gropin’ for the light switch an’ flippin’ it down. Bright light floods my sensitive eyes an’ I squeeze them shut with an inventive curse, tryin’ in vain to bury my head under the pillow. “Christ! Turn it off!”

The light disappears as abruptly as it came, leavin’ me blinkin’ at the blackness, my night vision completely overwhelmed. Colours are swimmin’ before my eyes an’ it takes me a minute to realise that they’re real – Jubilee has generated a couple o’ low level fireworks an’ they’re swirlin’ around her hand, providin’ enough light to see by, but not overload my enhanced eyesight. I groan as a wave o’ dizziness washes over me. The sudden exertion has seriously taxed my depleted energy levels an’ my throat is burnin’, aggravated by my howl o’ pain. Jesus, could it be any worse …… ?

Jubilee rocks back an’ eyes me, innocently. “Hey, Wolvie. Did we wake you?”

I manage a fairly respectable growl. “No. I always lie awake at night waitin’ fer kids ta fall on me.” I collapse back onto the pillow, draggin’ a hand across my tired eyes. My throat still hurts like the devil, but at least I can string sentences together now. Well, hooray fer me. “The hell ya doin’ here, Jubilee? Ya got a death wish, or something?”

“Peace, dude. We brought you something to eat. I thought you might wake up hungry and …… oh geez ……”

She breaks off in dismay, the fireworks liftin’ to hover above her head as she notices the remnants o’ the sandwich strewn all over my bed covers. “Oh no! It’s ruined!” I cringe involuntarily as her wail assaults my ears. “Don’t worry, Wolvie, we’ll throw this away an’ make you another one.”

I wish she’d stop callin’ me that. How the hell am I supposed to keep up my bad-ass image in the field when she’s yellin’ out that stupid nickname to all an’ sundry ……? Wait ……. Did she just say ……?

“No!” My sudden command makes her jump an’ drop a piece o’ lettuce, an’ I take a calmin’ breath an’ try again. “It doesn’t matter. Jus’ give me the meat.”

“But it’s been on the bed,” Jubilee protests, pickin’ up one half o’ the bread an’ lookin’ at it, sadly. “It’ll be covered in fluff.”

Right now, I couldn’t care less if it’s been buried in the garden for the last six months an’ dug up by the mansion cat. I need it …… an’ sooner rather than later. Preferably before I pass out an’ make a fool o’ myself in front o’ the school blabber-mouths

I make a valiant effort to sit up, my eyes lockin’ onto a piece of chicken that is restin’ near the overturned plate. But I’m still too weak, god-dammit, an’ I groan as my elbow gives way, depositing me unceremoniously back onto the pillows. I can’t believe it’s come to this – betrayed by my own treacherous body in front of a pair o’ flamin’ kids. Embarrassment forces my eyes to close an’ I wait for the blessed release o’ oblivion to catch up with me.

The smell o’ chicken is suddenly strong under my nose an’ I look up to see Kitty holdin’ a piece for me. Her free hand alights gently on my shoulder. “Take it,” she says, softly.

I absolutely refuse to be hand fed like some invalid, but it takes a great deal o’ effort to raise a hand an’ take that piece o’ meat from her. She watches with a slight smile as I swallow it down almost without chewin’.

“More,” I growl.

“The hell you doin’, ‘cat?” asks Jubilee, as Kitty reaches over to take the remains o’ the sandwich out of her hands. She separates the meat from the bread an’ passes some of it over to me with a heartfelt sigh.

“Don’t you know anything, Jubilee?” Now that he’s awake, he needs to replenish his energy levels fast, or he’ll pass out.”

“And you know this how?” The bed tilts slightly as Jubilee plants herself at the end of it, regarding us both with a quizzical expression. I dutifully ignore her an’ concentrate on inhaling the chicken Kitty is handin’ me. Thank god somebody in this madhouse has an ounce o’ sense.

“I know this because he’s a team-mate, Jubilee.” Shadowcat treats her friend to a scathing glance. “Don’t you make it a point to learn about your team-mate’s powers?”

“Not really, no.” Jubilee doesn’t look the slightest bit chastened by Kitty’s apparent surprise, an’ hands her friend another piece o’ chicken. “Should I?”

“For heaven’s sake, Jubilee!” Kitty throws up her hands in disgust. My eyes follow the piece o’ meat she is holding as if drawn by a magnet. “Mr Summers says we should know everything we can about our team-mates’ powers and weaknesses. It could be the difference between life or death while out in the field.”

Bugger life or death in the field – I’m more concerned with the here an’ now. Kitty is holdin’ my lifeline an’ I want it. I growl a reminder an’ she dutifully hands it over.

Jubilee huffs an’ watches me thoughtfully as I chew on the last piece o’ meat. “So. You an’ Rogue, huh?”

“Jubilee!”

“What, ‘cat? I’m takin’ an interest in my team-mate, like you said.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“S’okay, Pryde. I have no intention o’ discussing my private life with Jubilee. Or anyone else, fer that matter.” The meat has taken the edge off my appetite an’ I’m feelin’ slightly lethargic or otherwise Jubilee’s query would have been met with something more than a sarcastic answer. I wave a hand vaguely in the direction o’ the hallway. “Don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.”

“But it’s not as though it’s a secret. The whole school knows.” Jubilee folds her arms an’ looks at me expectantly, obviously not planning on leavin’ any time soon. “Besides, Rogue couldn’t wait to tell us that you’d taken her virginity out by the boathouse. By moonlight,” she adds, her eyes sparkling.

“Christ!” I croak. I suspected Marie would boast to her friends, but I didn’t expect her to go into explicit detail.

“I think it’s romantic.” Kitty sinks down onto the other side o’ the bed with a wistful sigh an’ suddenly I am surrounded. “I wish Bobby would make love to me under the stars.”

“Think again, ‘cat, it must be dreadfully uncivilised. Twigs an’ stuff getting’ tangled in your hair, rocks poking you in the back, an’ grit finding its way into your unmentionables. How’s a girl supposed to look cool an’ alluring under those kinda conditions, huh?”

“Jubilee.” I allow a growl to rumble around my chest an’ hold up a fist, suggestively. In the space o’ four seconds she’s just taken my first night o’ passion with Marie an’ mangled it all to hell. Once again I gesture towards the door. “Much as I appreciate yer visit, I really would like some peace an’ quiet right now an’ I’m sure it’s way past yer bedtime.” The fact that my door is open an’ no one has come to investigate my groin-squashin’ howl o’ pain suddenly registers. “Where the hell is Rogue, anyway? Why isn’t she here?” I try not to make it sound as though I’m whining. The Wolverine does not whine, dammit, but these kids are tryin’ my patience.

“Oh, Rogue and the X-Men have gone on a mission,” Jubilee tells me, easily, leanin’ back on one hand.

“What, all of them?”

“Pretty much,” replies Kitty, seriously. “The Professor is still here, of course. But all the senior guys have gone. There’s just me an’ Jubes left, and all the students over in the other wing.”

Christ, I’m all alone up here! The twosome from hell could pretty much do whatever they wanted to me right now an’ no one would know, until the X-guys return an’ find my gibbering wreck of a body ……

I hope Kitty doesn’t bear a grudge about that tiger thing ……

Shadowcat, however, gives every impression of being above such things. “I think they’ve gone on a pick-up,” she informs me, helpfully. “I overheard the Professor telling Mr Summers that a young mutant had been cornered in a warehouse by a group of human rights protesters.”

“Where?”

“Boston, I think.”

“They haven’t been gone long,” Jubilee adds, cheerfully, makin’ the fireworks dance around her head. I wish she’d stop doing that, it’s makin’ me feel light-headed. “Rogue didn’t want you to be left alone, so she asked us to look in on you.”

“How nice o’ her,” I growl, through gritted teeth. We’ll have words later. Her choice o’ babysitters leaves a lot to be desired.

Suddenly feelin’ my hundred or so years, I close my eyes, allowin’ the last remnants o’ my mate’s scent to permeate my senses an’ lettin’ my mind conjure up the perfect image to go with it. I miss her …… I miss the way her gentle voice soothes me an’ makes me feel like a better man. I miss the soft touch of her hand on my skin, eager for any kind o’ contact after being so long denied, an’ the way that touch sends electric shocks coursing through my body. I miss her whisperin’ my name as we make love in the silence o’ the night ……

“She loves you, y’know.” Christ, are they still here? I’m more out of it than I thought – lettin’ my mind wander like that in front o’ the kids. I open my eyes an’ treat Jubilee to a glare. The firecracker merely grins back at me, lookin’ perfectly at home perched on the end o’ my bed. “God knows how she puts up with all the growling an’ the manly posturing, but that’s love for you. And I’d rather see her eyes looking at you all googly-like, than filled with tears at the thought of you being dead.”

The wisdom o’ that statement shakes me an’ I nod in agreement, surprised to be actually agreein’ with Jubilee about anything.

“Rogue said I was …… gone …… for six hours,” I manage to force out.

Kitty nods in confirmation.

“I was in the hallway when they brought you in,” adds Jubilee, with a grin. “God, there was blood everywhere. You were pretty gross.”

“Thanks. I’ll remember not ta bleed so much the next time I get shot.”

“Do that, dude, it’ll save a fortune on carpet cleaning bills. There’s a stain at the bottom of the stairs that just won’t shift, an’ we’ve had bleach on it an’ everything.”

I’m not even gonna ask ……

“It was worse when you came back right in the middle of the autopsy,” continues Kitty, with a frown. “You frightened Dr Grey so much that her mental scream gave everybody migraine for two days. And her psi-link with Mr Summers made him throw up all over the rec room carpet.”

“Really?” Well, hallelujah, there’s a bright side to everything, after all.

“He’s not been around much the past few days,” Jubilee informs me. “I think he’s keeping out of Rogue’s way, if you ask me.”

“Oh? What for?” I ask, tryin’ to stifle a yawn. That feelin’ o’ lethargy is makin’ a return appearance an’ is happily pointin’ out the way to Coma City. Seems that I ain’t done healin’ yet. Must remember to thank Henry for cuttin’ me all to hell ……

Jubilee grins widely at me, her teeth seemin’ to glow in the light from her fireworks. I can feel myself startin’ to zone out as she speaks …… “I’ll let Rogue tell you that little story herself, dude! I think you’ll get a kick outta it …… and …… he …… she says …… you just won’t believe ……”

It’s at this point that I realise my brain is wavin’ a white flag an’ surrenderin’ to the healin’ coma that is stealin’ over my body once more. I struggle to resist it, unwillin’ to pass out an’ leave myself at the mercy o’ the trainees from hell, but it’s like tryin’ to hold back the onset o’ night, an’ the next thing I know Kitty is smoothin’ my sheets an’ tuckin’ them around me like a mother hen.

If I wasn’t so far gone, I think I’d actually be kinda touched.

“Goodnight, Mr Logan,” she whispers, softly. “We’ll leave you alone now to sleep, but we’ll check on you again later.”

“Jus’ don’t fall on me again, ‘kay?” my brain responds, fuzzily. “I’d like ta have kids one day.”

“Whoo, lucky Rogue!” cheers Jubilee, as Kitty ushers her towards the door. “D’ya think she knows her boyfriend is planning on getting her pregnant?”

Fer Chrissakes ……!

The last thing I hear before black oblivion steals me away is Jubilee’s stage whisper. “Well, that didn’t go so bad. He’s just a big ol’ pussycat really …..!”

9. Lost Property



The next time I wake I am fully healed. I’ve been severely injured enough times in what I remember o’ my life to know the difference instantly. I ease my body into a stretch, feelin’ unused muscles give an’ tendons pop, groanin’ as I force out the kinks. It feels good to be movin’ again, but I can already feel my hunger creepin’ up on me an’ I know I gotta replenish the energy the healin’ coma has used up. An’ sooner rather than later.

I throw back the bed covers an’ ease my legs outta bed, surprised to find myself without a stitch o’ clothin’. Whoever put me to bed musta had a rare eyeful an’ I’m kinda hopin’ it was Marie. Although, to be honest, it wouldn’t kill me to know it was Jean. At least she’d have seen what a real man looks like. Scooter can’t possibly compare.

Gingerly, I get to my feet, swayin’ a bit as the altitude hits me. Grittin’ my teeth, I stagger to the bathroom door, using the bedside table an’ other pieces o’ furniture for support. By the time I reach the bathroom my head is clearin’ an’ I lean on the sink an’ stare at my reflection in the mirror. The face that greets me is unmistakably thinner, noticeably pale, an’ there’s a darkness around the eyes that I haven’t seen in a long time. A good meal should take care o’ that.

I reach up to tug at my hair. It’s grown in the past few days, an’ the crests it naturally grows into are stickin’ up wilder than ever. For the briefest o’ moments I consider choppin’ it back, but then decide to leave it. It won’t be the first time I’ve let my hair grow long an’, to be honest, I kinda like it. I wonder briefly what Marie will think of it.

My muttonchops have grown too, but I’m definitely gonna trim those back. Xavier operates a strict dress code around the school – I manage to break it on a fairly regular basis – but I don’t think he’ll be too forgiving if I appear in front o’ the students lookin’ like a wildman.

First things first though. I step into the shower an’ crank up the heat, lettin’ the hot water wash away the stink o’ death. Someone’s done a first rate job o’ keepin’ me clean while I’ve been out of it, but I can still smell the after-scent o’ my own blood an’ something strangely metallic. Probably the bullets. I’ve got their scent now. Next time, I’ll know their stink from a mile away.

I shampoo my hair vigorously, then rinse, finally givin’ myself a finishin’ sluice before steppin’ outta the shower an’ grabbin’ a towel from the rail. A quick dryin’ later an’ I’m payin’ attention to those shaggy muttonchops, snippin’ ‘em back to their previous length. I’m just finishin’ up when my stomach growls loudly, remindin’ me that I’m runnin’ on empty. Time to beat a hasty retreat in search o’ food. Just before leavin’ the bathroom I glance in the mirror. No point in brushin’ my hair – it only falls the way it wants to anyway – so I shake my head like a dog, splatterin’ the wall tiles with drops o’ water, an’ stalk naked into the bedroom.

I’m just pullin’ on my second boot, after dressin’ in black tee an’ jeans – an’ here I must mention that my favourite brown leather jacket seems to be missin’ from its customary place on the back o’ the chair. Must remember to ask about it later – when I pick up a familiar incomin’ scent an’, seconds later, Marie enters. Her face lights up at the sight o’ me an’ she barrels into my arms, knocking me back with a grunt.

“Logan! You’re up! How ya feeling, sugah?” She pulls back an’ eyes me, suspiciously. “An’ where do you think you’re going?”

Much as I want Marie back in my arms where she belongs, there are priorities to be met. “I’m hungry, Marie. I need food. I was on my way downstairs to raid the kitchen.”

“No need, sugah!” Marie’s eyes sparkle with happiness when she smiles an’ if I wasn’t so hungry right now I’d let her know exactly how that makes me feel. Instead, I let her tug me towards the door. “It’s dinner time, Logan! Ah was just callin’ in on ya to see if ya needed anything before heading down there myself.”

Once the door is open, I can actually smell the aromas o’ the meal in progress for myself. My mouth waters an’ my stomach protests loudly as we head for the stairs. Control yerself, big guy. Don’t wanna drool in front o’ yer girl.

Marie gives me a sideways glance. “Don’t worry, sugah. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

Oh, the images those words provoke …… Down, boy ……

At the top o’ the stairs my body decides to remind me that I’m runnin’ on empty an’ my head spins alarmingly when faced with the sudden drop. To cover up my discomfort, I take Marie’s arm an’ use it for support as we descend. With one hand on the rail an’ the other tucked securely in the crook o’ her elbow, I feel much safer but, if she ever suspects the truth I will have to kill her.

She keeps tight hold of me as we reach the ground floor hallway. She’s either enjoyin’ the contact or she’s figured out that I’m still not quite myself yet an’ she grins up at me encouragingly as we near the dinin’ room. I can hear the general buzz o’ conversation an’ the staccato rattle o’ plates an’ suddenly the need to eat an’ renew my energy levels is so strong that I nearly pull Marie off her feet as I quicken my pace an’ barge through the door.

I’m so wrapped up in my own needs that I don’t notice we are still arm in arm. Now it’s worth mentionin’ that it was never my intention to hide my relationship with Marie from anyone, but I usually shy away from public displays o’ emotion. From any emotion, to be brutally honest, unless it’s to give someone who deserves it a damn good thrashin’. So, for me an’ Marie to suddenly appear in front o’ the whole student body arm in arm, is akin to me wearin’ a pink tee emblazoned with the words ‘I love kittens’. It just isn’t me.

An’ as our faux pas is noticed, the whole damn dinin’ room goes painfully quiet …….

Honestly, I swear I can hear the trees rustlin’ in Japan.

Marie looks at our entwined arms an’ then up at me, an’ a tiny rueful smile tugs at the corners of her lips. I’m suddenly stricken with an inexplicable case o’ paralysis – I don’t want to remove her arm – it would be childish an’ cruel, not to mention downright rude – but with all attention suddenly focused exclusively in our direction, I’m beginnin’ to feel like a rabbit caught in headlights, an’ my brain is screamin’ ‘Run, you fool!’ at me in no uncertain terms. I’m beginnin’ to understand how one o’ my victims feels, as 300 pounds o’ angry Wolverine barrels towards them, wavin’ a full fifty four inches or so o’ indestructible adamantium clawage.

I’m just contemplating brazenin’ it out an’ lettin’ rip with a snarl – jus’ so’s they know I ain’t one to be trifled with, ya understand – when the whole student body suddenly breaks into unexpected an’ spontaneous applause, an’ to say I am taken aback would be something of an understatement. Cutlery is rattled against glasses, fists are banged on tables, an’ everyone gets to their feet, cheerin’ and whoopin’ as if the damn President himself has just walked in. Across the room, I can see Jubilee standin’ on her chair, blowin’ whistles around her fingers, an’ Kitty is actually cryin’. Cryin’, god-dammit!

What the hell …… ?

In the middle o’ the chaos, Marie grabs my muttonchops an’ pulls my face down to hers, where she captures my lips in a searin’ kiss. For a split second, I am stunned, then instinct kicks in an’ I surround her with my arms, leanin’ in to give the clinch some serious attention.

An’ jus’ like that, I find myself kissin’ my girl in front o’ the whole damn school.

The applause reaches deafenin’ levels an’ I pull back slightly, gazin’ into Marie’s fathomless green eyes as I try to make some sense o’ what’s happenin’. She grins back at me, proudly.

“They’ve been worried about you, sugah, and are just happy to see you alive and well,” she explains, snugglin’ back into my embrace. “Everyone loves you, Logan.” She lowers her voice to a pitch only I am able to hear. “But only ah get to make love to you tonight.”

Well, with that kinda promise ringin’ in my ears, I am only too happy to allow Marie to lead me to my usual table at the far end o’ the room. The celebrations are beginnin’ to die down now, as hungry people return to their meals, but several o’ the older students are brave enough to reach out an’ pat me on the back as we go past. Seems like my brush with death has impressed these folks somewhat. Hope they remember that the next time I head their survivalist trainin’ ……

Half way to our usual table, Marie’s attention is diverted by a wave from Storm an’ we change direction mid-pace an’ head for her table.

“Logan! It is good to see you on your feet again!” The white-haired beauty drags me into a fond embrace, an’ suddenly I am surrounded by the scent o’ rain an’ wildflowers. Her hands on my back feel cool through my tee.

“Da, you gave us quite the scare.” This from the big Russian bruiser seated on the other side o’ the table. He’s a decent guy – offered to help when Stryker an’ his goons invaded the mansion a couple o’ years back – an’ I toss him an acknowledgin’ nod.

“Don’t go off and sit by yourself, Logan. Sit here with us for a change. We’d love to have you join us.” Ororo indicates two empty seats an’ I hesitate. Being sociable really ain’t one o’ my strong suits an’ the weather witch is lookin’ at me so hopefully that I really don’t know how to let her down gently.

“Well ……” I begin, an’ get no further as Marie pulls out an empty chair an’ all but manhandles me into it. I grunt as my ass hits the seat an’ Marie leans over my shoulder, lettin’ her hair drape down my chest an’ fillin’ my senses with her heady scent.

“Wait here, sugah, ah’ll go and get you something to eat.” An’ with that she is gone, leavin’ me starin’ around at my table companions like a loon.

Jean, seated to my left, reaches out to pat my knee. “The last few days have changed her in more ways than one, Logan,” she tells me, confidentially. “I guess it was bound to happen, thinking you dead and all.” She smiles, helpfully. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

She turns back to her meal, leaving the way open for Henry to lean forward an’ welcome me back to the fold. By the time Marie returns, bearin’ two plates o’ food, I have managed to behave myself an’ pass the time in civil conversation with everyone at the table, bar one, an’ it looks like he ain’t in the mood for idle chit-chat, at least with me. Marie looks pleased to find everyone still alive, an’ gives me a beamin’ smile as she takes her place beside me.

I have to hand it to my girl, she knows how to fill a guy’s stomach. Particularly a guy who has been shot seven times, certified dead, autopsied, resurrected, an’ spent the last four days in a healin’ coma. The plate she places in front o’ my nose is filled simply with steak – no fancy trimmings, just steak. An’ she’s obviously hunted out the rarest pieces too, if the pink juices are anything to go by. Showin’ her my impressive canines in a rare smile, I resist the impulse to pick the steaks up with my fingers an’ rip into them with my teeth, opting to go with the cutlery neatly laid out on the table before me for appearances sake. No cause to go upsettin’ the natives.

I must admit, the first forkful sends me into something of a feedin’ frenzy, an’ I blot out all conversation around me as I concentrate on inhalin’ my meal. Mindful of my condition an’ the need to fill myself with protein quickly, my table companions happily do everything in their power to prevent anything from hinderin’ this process, although at no time do they make me feel uncomfortable or exclude me from the general flow of chatter going around the table. It’s obvious I’ve been accepted into the fold, so to speak, an’ the feelin’ is a strange one. I haven’t eaten with this much company in years, an’ Marie keeps givin’ me sidelong glances, almost as though checkin’ I’m still there. I suddenly realise that, with all that’s happened to me in the last few days, I’ve entered a whole new world. One where my brush with death an’ Marie’s unconditional acceptance of my feral nature has opened up a whole new vista of possibilities. I’d be a fool not to take advantage of them.

Yet, beneath all this, I can’t shake the feelin’ that something is brewin’. It has nothing to do with ambushes or carbonadium bullets, or even with mysterious women who wait outside cabins for the dead. But it has everything to do with a certain young X-Man, who is the only person at the table who hasn’t acknowledged my presence. An’ who doggedly refused to look up from his meal while all around him were celebratin’ my return to health.

There’s definitely something eatin’ Scott Summers ……


oooOOOooo


After devourin’ five steaks an’ a generous helpin’ o’ apple pie – which I didn’t have the heart to refuse after young Rahne Sinclair was elected as spokesperson for her table an’ pushed, wide-eyed, in my direction, clutchin’ the overfull bowl in nervous hands – I am definitely feelin’ much better an’ in the mood to kill something. Funny how I always want to dive right back into the action after being laid up for a few days. I can’t say Marie is pleased with my idea – it’s obvious she was hopin’ to get me into bed for some major action of an entirely different variety, but she nods when I tell her that I need to let off some steam an’ settles for a tanglin’ o’ tongues at the bottom o’ the stairs before I stalk off in the direction o’ the lower levels an’ a date with the Danger Room. I think she woulda come with me if I’d let her, but she understands my need for freedom an’ privacy now an’ then, an’ I catch her tiny wave of encouragement as the elevator doors close an’ whisk me down to the nerve center o’ the mansion.

I briefly consider fightin’ in my jeans an’ tee, but I’ve ruined one good pair o’ jeans already this week an’ I’m something of a miser when it comes to buyin’ clothes. So I drag my fightin’ uniform out of its locker, suit up an’ go to work. I programme one o’ my favourite locations – the mountains o’ northern Canada – an’ then fill it with the evilest assortment o’ bad-assess the computer can come up with.

Standin’ ankle deep in pristine white snow, I unsheathe my claws an’ prepare to unleash hell ……

Two hours later, I have worked up a healthy sweat, the computer has run outta opponents to throw at me but, more importantly, I am in possession of a far healthier mood than I had when I went in. The prospect o’ claimin’ Marie an’ buryin’ myself deep within her seems pretty good to me right now an’, to this end, I forgo changin’ back into my jeans an’ tee an’ head for the upper levels still dressed in my fightin’ uniform. I’m lookin’ forward to my girl tearin’ it offa me anyway, so it seems pointless to change an’ delay my pleasure. Besides, Marie seems to like me in the black leather – I used to catch her starin’ at my ass now an’ then, back in the days before she got control of her skin – an’ I’m willin’ to try anything once, if it’ll result in great sex. Not that sex with Marie isn’t great under normal conditions, but you get my drift, I’m sure.

Show me a woman who doesn’t get all hot under the collar when faced with a feral in black leather, an’ I’ll show you a woman who needs to get her priorities straight.

I pass a group o’ kids gathered in the hallway at the foot o’ the stairs. They nod politely as I stalk past, but then break out into gales o’ laughter as I start up. Five steps up, I pause an’ turn slowly, knowin’ a scowl has darkened my features. The hell ……? They laughin’ at me?

One look at my face an’ the kids suddenly realise they have an urgent need to be elsewhere. I continue to glare, until they turn a corner an’ disappear from view, but the sound o’ renewed laughter reaches my ears as I continue up the stairs. I almost turn around an’ go back down to demand an explanation, an’ only the firm grip on the banister keeps me going in my intended direction. Get a grip, Logan. They ain’t laughin’ at you. Someone told a joke, that’s all.

I tag Marie’s scent as I move down the hallway. She’s left my room an’ she’s now in her own, which suits me jus’ fine. Hers is further along the hallway, with an empty room on each side. Less people to disturb when I get feisty an’ make her scream my name.

As I reach out to Marie’s door handle, I scent Storm comin’ up the hallway behind me an’ I turn to acknowledge her presence. She nods as she moves past, no doubt headin’ for her attic room, her lips curlin’ into an amused smile.

“I like the improvements you’ve made to your jacket, Logan. But I think you should remove it before going into the field, don’t you? It is not exactly according to protocol.”

“My jacket ……?” My brow creases into a confused frown an’ I barely hear the sound o’ ‘Ro’s amused laughter as I shrug out o’ the heavy leather an’ turn it around in my hands to inspect the back. What I see has me barrellin’ through Marie’s door with all the grace of an enraged bull elephant on speed.

“Marie!”

Marie is sprawled on the bed readin’ a book an’ she jumps at my less than subtle entrance. “Geez, Logan ……!”

“Have you seen this?” I throw my jacket down on the bed in front o’ her. “It’s one o’ your friends, ain’t it?” Unless I’ve missed my guess, this looks like one o’ Jubilee’s practical jokes. “I’ll kill her, Marie, I swear it!”

Marie tries to hide a grin an’ turns my jacket towards her so that she can read ‘Property of the Rogue’ written in garish yellow clothes dye on the back. The words have been outlined in red glitter, for Chrissakes! “Oh, Logan, it’s just a joke.”

“A joke?” I spit back, angry beyond all tellin’. “Marie, some kids laughed at me in the hallway, fer Chrissakes! Storm’s seen it! An’ I fought Sabretooth in it! Sabretooth, Marie!”

“Oh, sugah, it’s not as if he were the real one.”

“That’s not the point, Marie. The point is that that mouthy friend o’ yers has ruined my uniform an’ made me a laughin’ stock!”

“A sense of humour really isn’t your strong point, is it, sugah?” Marie smiles as she slips off the bed an’ moves towards me, reachin’ out a hand to caress my arm as she glides past an’ closes the door with a soft click. I growl agitatedly as she snags her own fightin’ jacket off the chair by the dresser an’ spreads it out to display ‘Property of the Wolverine’ written in the same eye-watering letters on the back. It’d actually be quite amusin’ if I weren’t so flamin’ angry.

I run a hand through my hair, fightin’ the urge to shred something. Marie drapes the jacket over the back o’ the chair an’ walks slowly towards me, spreadin’ her fingers across my chest. “You really gotta learn to lighten up, sugah. Don’t take everything so seriously. Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow or you’ll explode.” She spears her fingers into my hair an’, despite my annoyance, I close my eyes at the pleasant sensation. Her breath is warm on my cheek as she leans into me. “You’re wound up tighter than a rattlesnake, lover. Don’t you ever have fun?”

“Marie …… I ……”

“Shh.” She presses a finger to my lips an’ I open my eyes as she smiles back at me, mysteriously. “Ah can make you feel all better, sugah, but you gotta trust me, okay?”

“I do trust ya, Marie, ya know that.”

“That’s good. Because …..” She pauses a moment, as though thinkin’ something through, an’ then comes to a decision. “Because ah’ve had time to do a lot of thinkin’ while you’ve been in that coma an’ there’s somethin’ ah’d like to try, but you’ve gotta let me be in control. Think you can do that, sugah?”

I hesitate, torn between my desire to find out what Marie is plannin’ an’ my dislike o’ not being in control. She senses my unease an’ presses her mouth to mine, bitin’ gently at my lower lip. “Come on, lover. Ah promise you’ll like it.”

I nod before I even realise what I’m doing. “Yes,” I hear myself say.

Marie immediately steps back, eyeing me critically. “Okay. First, that shirt has definitely got to go. Take it off. Now!”

I allow a growl to rumble around my chest as I grasp the stretchy material o’ my undershirt an’ pull it over my head with one swift movement. I don’t wanna give the impression that I’m easy but, at the same time, Marie’s dominant tone is turnin’ me on something fierce. The beast within me roars its approval.

“That’s better.” Marie spreads her fingers against my chest once more, beginnin’ to stroke me in a slow, regular pattern. My eyes drift closed o’ their own accord an’ I hear the smile in her voice as she talks to me, her tone low an’ soothin’. “That’s it, baby. Just relax. Let Marie do all the work.”

A shiver runs through me as one hand circles lower, tracin’ a line o’ hair down to my navel. She circles it once – twice – slowly, languidly, occasionally dippin’ a finger into the hollow. Distracted, I don’t feel her leanin’ in to me until her tongue flicks out to describe a lazy circle around the flattened nub of a nipple an’ I gasp, breathlessly, as the aroused flesh instantly hardens.

I tangle my fingers into her hair, pushin’ my chest forward – aching for more contact – an’ feelin’ my body respond as her hand tires o’ my navel an’ dips steadily lower, skimmin’ over the waistband o’ my leathers to grab my crotch.

I tilt my head back with a groan, loosing a hand from her hair to cover hers with mine an’ press her fingers against my growin’ erection. But I open my eyes, startled, when she slaps my hand away, an’ I growl at the affront.

Marie steps back from me, her little hands bunchin’ into fists on her hips. “No, sugah, ya don’t get to play. I’m gonna make ya feel good, but ah have to do it my way, okay? Ah need to know if …… well, that doesn’t matter right now, but it’ll all be worth it in the end, ah promise.”

She reaches for the hand she slapped an’ begins to press little kisses to the skin between my knuckles. Where the claws come out. The symbolism isn’t lost on me, an’ I swear I can actually feel my eyes darken as my lust takes over an’ my feral nature rushes to the fore.

With a rumblin’ growl, I lower my head an’ grant my mate complete and unconditional control o’ my body.

Whatever happens now, I’m merely along for the ride ……

10. Hers for the Taming



My head is spinnin’ as Marie presses a hand flat against my stomach an’ pushes me slowly backwards until the backs o’ my knees are against the edge o’ the bed. I can’t believe what I’ve just agreed to do – what the hell was I thinkin’? Ferals dominate – they do not allow themselves to be dominated. It goes against every instinct, every law o’ nature. I must be outta my mind.

An’ yet – Marie’s my mate. I’ve already admitted that much to myself. An’ ferals will sometimes submit to their mates – allow them to take control. Hell, I’ve already done it once, when I tilted my head back to allow her to kiss my throat. But this – whatever it is that Marie wants to do –this is so much more. Can I? – will I? – allow it to happen?

An’ I guess that’s the answer. If I allow Marie to take control – to dominate me – then she’s truly my mate, no question about it. If not – if I stop her or try to take control – then she’s not. It’s as simple as that.

Simple? Yeah, right. So how am I gonna feel if I haveta stop her an’ it turns out she’s not my mate? How will Marie feel, for that matter?

Shit, this is getting’ outta hand ……

One step at a time, Logan. Let’s take this one step at a time …….

Marie is watchin’ me with this strange look on her face, as if she knows I am tryin’ to work this out. Her hand is still flat against my stomach an’ now the other comes up to slide around my neck an’ into my hair. I allow a soft growl to vibrate in my throat – not enough to scare her or make her think I’m takin’ back control – but just enough to voice my approval. I like the feel of her hands in my hair. I can’t quite put my finger on why, but the urges the feel of her fingers provokes in me could honestly get me arrested in at least five states ……

She takes a firm grip an’ pulls my head down to her – not enough to hurt, but enough to tell me she means business. The lips she presses to mine are soft yet demandin’, an’ she begins to nibble at my lower lip, her tongue flickin’ out every now an’ then to taste an’ soothe. Normally, by this stage, I would be tryin’ to get my hands in all sorts o’ interestin’ places an’, to be honest, I feel at a loss as to what to do with ‘em right now. How far is Marie gonna take this ‘no playin’’ rule anyway? Can I hold her? Or would even that be takin’ control an’ end the game? Shit, I can’t just stand here like a dummy ……

I finally settle for slidin’ them around her waist an’ lettin’ them rest in the small of her back. If this is construed as going too far then I’ll haveta admit my mistake an’ call for a rematch. But Marie seems perfectly at home with this an’ leans eagerly into my embrace as she seeks to deepen the kiss, nippin’ sharply at my lip an’ nudging insistently with her tongue. Normally, I’d make her work harder to gain the prize, but I know the rules so I immediately grant her access. Her tongue pushes roughly into my mouth, slidin’ against my own an’ claimin’ its territory. I can’t chase her back – that would be a definite no-no – so all I can do is rein in my instincts an’ let her take exactly what she wants from me. My pulse is racin’ as she ruthlessly plunders my mouth.

Takin’ her time, she moves slightly to my side, freein’ up the hand on my stomach, which begins to drift slowly lower now, grazin’ over the waistband o’ my fightin’ leathers an’ down to squeeze the growin’ bulge between my legs. The lusty rumble that vibrates around my chest has nothin’ to do with being submissive an’ Marie knows it. Before I can take it back, her lips leave mine, her fingers tighten in my hair an’ she yanks my head back sharply, exposin’ my throat.

Jesus ……!

“Did ah say you could speak, Wolverine?” Her breath is hot on my neck as she nips sharply at my skin, wringin’ a tortured groan from my lips. Usin’ my codename means that she’s talkin’ to my feral side – assertin’ her control over the beast within me. If I didn’t know better I’d swear she was …… No. She can’t be. She doesn’t know about that.

Does she?

“Show your submission to me, Wolverine.” Marie tugs at my hair once more to emphasise her point an’ I stifle the growl that wells up in my throat. If anyone else tried this trick with me, I’d be introducin’ twenty odd inches o’ adamantium to their gut pretty damn quick, but all I can think of right now is how turned on I’m gettin’. The hand at my crotch is slowly movin’ up an’ down, pressin’ into my length through the thickness o’ the leather pants an’ all I wanna do is throw her to the bed an’ take this girl hard an’ fast. But I gotta control it. Marie has asked me to trust her – I don’t know why, but I gotta do it. For her.

For my mate.

The pressure leaves my hair as she removes her hand, but I leave my head tilted back as she leans in closer, not quite touchin’ but makin’ my body shake all the same with the very presence of her. God, I want her! I want her so much it fuckin’ hurts!

Her teeth close around my throat, effectively holdin’ me in place as the hand at my pants flips open the fly button. I swallow thickly as she slowly unzips my zipper, click by agonisin’ click, drawin’ out the suspense. By the time my fly is fully open, I am so hard an’ sensitive that if Marie were to say ‘come’, I would. She’s always had a huge effect on me – she can make me feel as horny as hell with just one look – but this …… this is somethin’ else entirely.

She releases my throat an’ pulls back slightly, smilin’ at me as though I’ve just passed some sort of test. I moisten my lips an’ look down, followin’ the track of her hands as they slide around my waist an’ take a firm hold o’ the waistband o’ my pants. A nonchalant tip of her head catches my eye an’ she winks at me coyly, right before she pushes my pants down to my knees.

I take in a deep shudderin’ breath as my throbbin’ cock is exposed to her hungry gaze. I wanna push it into her grasp, have her stroke me to a blessed release, but all I can do is huff a startled breath as she places both hands flat against my stomach an’ pushes me down onto the bed.

She immediately goes to her knees at my feet, tuggin’ off my boots one by one an’ flingin’ them across the room. The first one fetches up against the door with a thump, the second lodges under the computer desk set against the wall. When she tugs off my pants an’ flings them behind her, I flop back on the bed with a groan, already anticipatin’ what she’s gonna do an’ achin’ for the feel of her hands on me.

In hindsight, I realise I had no idea what was comin’ ……

She spreads my knees an’ moves in between them, runnin’ her hands slowly up the outsides o’ my thighs. My cock jerks at the pleasure this induces an’ I hear her draw in a soft breath as her hands stroke around to my inner thigh.

“You have such a beautiful cock, Wolverine. So thick. So hard. Is this all for me?”

Jesus, is that my Marie? Where the hell did she learn to talk like that?

I manage a nod, growlin’ as her hands reach my knees an’ start back up, her nails scratchin’ gently along the skin an’ makin’ my balls clench. I groan as her fingers stop just short o’ where I want them to be an’ I realise she’s havin’ fun with this …… drawin’ out the pleasure …… makin’ me wait for the reward.

I fist my hands into the bed covers in an effort to stop myself from takin’ her hands an’ puttin’ ‘em where I want ‘em to be.

Her fingers are drawin’ little circles on my inner thigh just short o’ my crotch an’ I huff out a ragged breath. “Christ, Marie ……”

“You’ve been a good boy so far, Wolverine. You deserve a reward.” One finger languidly strokes my cock from base to tip an’ I almost shoot off the bed. “What would you like me to do, sugah?”

It takes a moment to get my thoughts in order. “Straddle me,” I growl out. “Put me inside you.”

“Oh no, sugah, ah’m not gonna do that.” She’s not? “Not yet, anyway.” Oh. “Ah’ve got something else planned for m’ah feisty feral.”

An’ she suddenly takes my balls in both hands an’ squeezes …… Hard.

“Jesus ……!” My back arches off the bed as fireworks seem to go off in my lower body, sendin’ pulses of intense pleasure radiatin’ outwards. I feel a sharp pain in my knuckles an’ I realise my claws have slid out a couple o’ inches. “Oh, Christ, Marie ……”

“You like that, don’t you, sugah?”

I groan in reply as her fingers continue to knead an’ caress my rapidly hardenin’ balls an’ she laughs, not unkindly, as my hips start to gyrate in time with her movements.

“Oh yes, you like that. Want me to do it again?”

She doesn’t wait for a reply, an’ I cry out hoarsely as her fingers squeeze me again. She’s not tryin’ to hurt, but she’s usin’ just enough pressure that the pleasure starts to border on exquisite pain. My body shudders with the intensity of it an’ when I finally regain control o’ my faculties I can feel a wetness at the end o’ my cock.


“You’re weeping, sugah. Guess ah must be doing something right. Wonder what you taste like?”

Oh Christ, does that mean ……?

I feel her shift slightly an’ then all I can do is groan deliriously as her soft wet tongue slides around the tip o’ my cock, lappin’ up my pre-cum. My balls tighten in her hands, as my own hands clench into the bed covers. Sweet Jesus, this girl’s gonna kill me ……!

I crack open an eye as she pulls back, just in time to see the grin she flashes at me. It’s lusty – almost feral-like – an’ my breath catches in my throat.

“You taste good, sugah. Ah like it. Wanna give me some more?”

My heart pounds almost painfully in my chest. Oh god …… “Uhhh, Marie ……”

“No, wait. Ah know how to get more.”

An’ before I can draw breath, she dips her head once more an’ takes me fully into her mouth.

HolyFuckin’SweetMother……!! My eyes roll back an’ my back arches as her warm mouth surrounds my throbbin’ cock. She can’t take me all in – not many women can – but she skilfully makes up for that, using one hand to caress my length while the other continues to knead my heavy balls. The combined pleasure-pain from three different modes o’ stimuli all centered around one area is like nothin’ I’ve ever felt before, an’ all I can hope is that Marie remembered to lock her door because if one of her nosy friends walks in right now they’re certainly gonna get an eyeful – the Wolverine spread-eagled naked on the bed like a sacrificial victim with the Rogue between his legs, givin’ him the blow-job of his life.

An’ then Marie’s little tongue flicks into the slit at the tip o’ my cock, as if searchin’ for more o’ my precious elixir, an’ I couldn’t care less if the whole school walked in right now an’ took front row seats, ‘cause all I wanna do is empty my load into the sweet mouth o’ the girl who is sendin’ me to places I haven’t been in a long time. I wanna come so bad it’s like holdin’ back a dam threatenin’ to burst, but I gotta contain it ‘cause I don’t want this to end too soon. I want this to continue until every nerve endin’ in my body explodes with searin’ fire.

Marie changes tactics an’ begins to suck me, hard, takin’ me in as far as she can go until I can feel my cock nudgin’ the back of her throat. Her own desire makes her groan against me an’ the vibrations ripple down my length, addin’ to the pleasure an’ resonatin’ to my very soul. It’s exquisite torture an’ in short order she has me writhin’ on the bed, my breath alternatin’ between ragged pantin’ an’ lusty growls. My feral side is surfacin’ an’ I am almost incoherent, but I want more …… need more……

“Rrrraaauugh …… harder, Marie …… grrrrrwl …… wanna come fer you ……make me come …… So close …… So fuckin’ close ……”

Obediently, she ups the pace, suckin’ so hard I swear she’s tryin’ to siphon the come right outta me. My balls feel like steel as she kneads an’ squeezes ‘em an’ my cock has never felt so hard under the combined stimuli o’ both her hand an’ mouth. I can feel her teeth grazin’ my length every now an’ then an’ I throw my head back an’ howl, lettin’ myself go as my muscles begin to spasm, heraldin’ my release. I can’t hold it back anymore – I gotta come – I need to let it out. Oh god, this is gonna be big ……

With a hoarse cry, I come hard, feelin’ the searin’ heat rush through my cock in wave after pulsin’ wave, my balls almost twistin’ in Marie’s grasp. I thrust upwards, oblivious to everythin’ but the need to release, my very nerves afire with the force of my climax. I can feel my come pumpin’ outta me – there seems no end to it – an’ I groan helplessly, lost in the throes of sheer ecstasy. My climax is a long time calmin’ but, as the last of the aftershocks shudder through my body, Marie squeezes my balls an’ sucks my cock hard, an’ suddenly I am comin’ again, with no less intensity. Givin’ myself over to another bone-shatterin’ release, my pleasure-sodden brain registers surprise. Jesus …… twice?

The aftershocks seem to go on for an eternity this time an’ I ride them to the best o’ my ability, lettin’ them carry me along to wherever they wanna take me. I really don’t care. I jus’ wanna lie here an’ remember this moment for ever. Dimly, I feel the bed dip as Marie climbs on an’ settles beside me an’ then her lips are pressin’ to mine an’ I open my mouth an’ let her enter, tastin’ myself on her tongue an’ growlin’ at the message this conveys.

I didn’t lose control. I let her dominate. She’s my mate.

She’s mine. To do with as I god-damn please.

I try to raise my hands to pull her down onto me, but somethin’ is restrainin’ them an’ I snarl as unbidden memories flood into my sex-fogged an’ slightly feral brain. Marie senses my unease an’ pulls back, puttin’ her hands gently on one o’ my wrists.

“You’ve unsheathed your claws, sugah, anchoring yourself to the bed. Pull them in and you’ll be able to move.”

Her soft words penetrate an’ I will my claws to sheath, surgin’ to my knees the moment I am free an’ leanin’ possessively into her, tiltin’ her back as I press my nose to her neck, scentin’ her, re-affirmin’ my dominance o’ my Alpha female. She sighs softly as my breath warms her skin, placin’ a splayed hand on my stomach an’ pressin’ deep as if to confirm our connection.

“Thank you, sugah,” she whispers, softly, an’ for the life o’ me I can’t figure out why. I’m too far gone now, an’ it’s an effort to think coherently much less remember. I feel her smile as I bite playfully at her ear-lobe. “Your turn now.”

My turn? God-damn right it’s my flamin’ turn! My female has done her duty by pleasurin’ her male an’ getting’ me ready to mate, now it’s time to enter her an’ claim what’s mine.

I think she realises what she’s unleashed when I pounce an’ begin to rip at her clothin’, usin’ teeth an’ hands – whatever seems the fastest – but, to her credit, she’s not frightened, her scent merely confirmin’ her acceptance an’ arousal. Her tee is the first to go, almost torn from her body as I take the hem in my teeth an’ rend the material apart. She puts up no resistance as I strip the rest of her clothin’ away as easily, in fact helpin’ to shuck her panties as I use my teeth to rip the catch of her front fastenin’ bra. An’ then she is below me, naked an’ helpless, an’ I crawl up the length of her, a feral growl rumblin’ in my chest as the last o’ my humanity is overpowered by the beast, tellin’ my female the only way I can to prepare for mating.

There is no tenderness in me when I am like this – it’s all bitin’ an’ scratchin’ an’ everything primal. It’s a side o’ me I never wanted Marie to see, although she came close the night I almost raped her. When I’m feral, I have no reason, no sense o’ right an’ wrong. The beast is selfish an’ wants everything for himself. An’ right now, the beast wants its female. I can only hope my mate is strong enough to survive the experience.

I am already fully erect again, rubbin’ against my female’s stomach as I hover above her. She reaches to take me in hand, but I slap her fingers away with a growled “No!” My female is young an’ inexperienced, but she will learn my needs soon enough. I don’t need any more pleasurin’ – I am ready to mate.

She squeals as I flip her over an’ position her on hands an’ knees. Placin’ one hand on the back of her neck to steady her, I push her upper body down slightly, makin’ her rear end rise. I nudge her legs apart with my knee, spreadin’ her before me.

She whimpers a little as she feels my cock brush her leg, but her scent tells me it’s with anticipation, not fear, an’ she bucks backward slightly, invitin’ me to take her. Invitation or not, I take myself in hand an’ push against her folds.

My female moans loudly as I mount her, properly voicin’ her approval of being mated by such a big and virile male, tossin’ her head as I push my cock deep with a single invasive thrust. I give her a moment to settle an’ then begin to move inside her, slowly at first but quickly buildin’ pace as I establish a rhythm. My female places her hands on the headboard to steady herself an’ I lean over her, lockin’ my teeth into the soft flesh between shoulder an’ neck to demonstrate my dominance as I pound into her. She is breathless, pantin’ with desire, an’ I am proud to have such a responsive an’ willin’ female under me.

My pace quickens as I feel myself nearin’ release. I relax my hold on my mate’s neck, pullin’ back an’ changin’ position slightly so that I can delve deeper, where my seed will do the most good, gruntin’ with each frenzied thrust. I am almost there, head thrown back, teeth bared in a feral snarl, when a single coherent thought rises to the fore of my fogged brain.

“Rrrrrogue,” I manage to growl out. “…… comin’……”

“Wolverine? Oh god, yes, Wolverine …… please …… Please!!”

Her words are meaningless to me, but the intent is clear, an’ then nothin’ matters as instinct takes over an’ the need to come overwhelms me.

My mate’s own climax hits just seconds later, prompted, no doubt, by the feel of my hot seed pumpin’ into her. Her walls clamp around my cock, pullin’ me in deeper, takin’ me to the very core of her as I release my lifeforce within her.

As the aftershocks of our mating shudder through my body, I clamp my teeth to her neck an’ bite down, hard, hearin’ her startled gasp as my teeth penetrate the skin an’ mark her. I growl against her skin, tellin’ her she is mine. She will mate with no other male but me. If she disobeys, I will kill my rival, an’ mate with her again to demonstrate my superiority.

Fully sated, I roll to my side, takin’ her with me an’ wrappin’ myself around her, nuzzlin’ into her neck an’ soothin’ the mark with my tongue, lettin’ her know I am pleased with her. It was a good mating – many healthy cubs come from such a couplin’ an’ the female has a strong Alpha male to protect her if she quickens.

But there are other males in this place – I can smell them all around me – an’ so I rub myself around my female, purrin’ as I spread my scent. The other males will not touch her if they smell my scent on her, an’ the female seems to appreciate this because she begins to touch me back, strokin’ my chest an’ murmurin’ strange noises. The gesture is pointless. I will not take another mate while I have this one so markin’ me with her scent serves no purpose. But I like the feel of her hands on me so I let her continue.

As sleep claims me, I wrap my arms around her in a protective embrace, holdin’ her tightly against me. But she seems restless an’ tries to slide away, pullin’ at my arm to make me let go. I growl an’ bite the back of her neck to calm her, an’ she finally lies still. We have mated – now it is time to sleep.

But she is young. An’ she will learn.

I will teach her how to be a feral’s mate ……

11. An Itch to Scratch



I awake the next mornin’ with a light head an’ the sense o’ displacement that tells me I’ve recently taken a walk on the feral side. A small body curled up against my side warns me I’m not alone. Scent tells me it’s Marie, an’ she smells calm, so I ain’t worried – at least I haven’t hurt her. Room is thick with the smell o’ sex though, so I’m guessin’ we had a good time after I zoned out. Thing is, I can’t remember much after Marie finished jackin’ me off – just some shattered images o’ naked limbs an’ heated lips. Figures. Seems as though we had a wild night an’ I can’t remember it.

Story o’ my life.

Marie stirs against me an’ I tilt my head to look down at her. We fell asleep on top o’ the bed covers an’ the sight of her naked limbs pressed to mine raises a growl to my lips. I place my hand gently on her rounded hip, enjoying the feel of her softness against my palm, an’ she mumbles softly in her sleep, words so low even I can’t pick ‘em out.

I allow my hand to drift along the curve of her hip, ghostin’ along her ribs until I reach her breast. Feelin’ myself growin’ horny, I dip my hand an’ pinch the dusky nipple. Marie stirs an’ moans an’ then opens an eye, her full lips drawin’ back into a lazy smile as she sees me hoverin’ above her.

“Hey, sugah.”

“Hey, yerself,” I respond, jauntily. My thumb grazes her hardenin’ nipple an’ she stretches languidly against me, displayin’ her body shamelessly to my eyes. A ragged growl rumbles in my throat an’ I can feel a tightenin’ in my groin.

Marie’s eyes drift steadily downwards an’ give an exaggerated roll. “Oh, sugah, not again, surely? Isn’t three times enough?”

“Three ……..?” I ask, before I can stop myself. Christ, I can’t remember any of it.

Marie palms my cheek, her eyes full o’ love an’ trust. “Ah’ve had a great time, sugah, really ah have, but you’ve been at it most o’ the night an’ I’d really like to get some sleep. Three times is enough for any girl, even if you did let me sleep a little between bouts.”

I flop back to the pillows with a grunt, inwardly preenin’ at her words. Kept her at it all night, did I? Well, hooray fer me.

Wish I could remember it.

Marie snuggles back into my side, then reconsiders an’ props herself up on one elbow so that she can look down on my face. “Next time though, sugah, ah’d appreciate it if you’d let me go pee every now an’ then. Each time ah tried to get away, you’d just wrap me in your arms an’ pin me to the bed.”

I have the grace to look apologetic an’ Marie giggles an’ leans down to kiss my mouth. Her hand rests lightly on my stomach an’ I cover it with mine, trappin’ it against me.

“I ain’t complainin’, sugah,” she whispers, softly, flexin’ her fingers against my skin an’ makin’ my cock stir in obvious interest. “All the growlin’ an’ the bitin’ was kinda sexy. An’ ah loved the purring.”

I raise a confused eyebrow. “The what?”

“The purring, sugah. How d’ya do that, anyway?”

“Marie, I don’t purr.”

“Sure ya do, sweetie!”

“Marie, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t purr. Ain’t never purred in my life. Ain’t about ta start now.”

Marie quirks an eyebrow at me in a gesture remarkably similar to my own, an’ kisses the end o’ my nose. “You just go on believing that, sugah, an’ we’ll get along just fine, but ah swear you were rubbin’ yourself all over me like a cat.” She pauses an’ eyes me, speculatively. “You got some sexy moves when you’re feral, sugah. Ah like it!”

“Oh?” I let an evil leer cross my face. “I got news fer ya, Marie. I got some sexy moves when I’m not feral, too.”

She squeals shrilly as I roll over an’ pin her beneath me, buryin’ my face in her neck, my hands roamin’ her body. The squirming an’ shimmying this invokes as she tries to get away from me ignites a fire in my belly an’ I nip playfully at her neck, an aroused growl rumblin’ in my chest an’ vibratin’ into hers, makin’ her gasp in surprise.

It’s no surprise that, thanks to my nose being buried in Marie’s neck an’ the sound o’ her breathless squealin’ in my ears, I miss the footsteps approachin’ her door right until it opens.

“Hey, Roguey, don’t forget we have that library project for Storm this morning and ……. Oh, Shit!! Christ, guys, I’m sorry! Shit!”

Jubilee backs off towards the door, a hand held dramatically over her eyes, as I growl a warnin’. Marie is gigglin’ like a loon beneath me. S’okay for her. It’s not her ass on show for all to see.

“Quit growlin’, I’m going! D’you realise I’m probably gonna be scarred for life after this?” Jubilee’s free hand is scrabblin’ for the door handle. “Next time, hang a sign on the door, or something, for Chrissakes! Yes, I’m going!” The door begins to close, but she can’t resist duckin’ back into the room for a partin’ shot, eyes completely uncovered. “By the way, nice ass, Wolvie!”

“Out!” I roar, reachin’ behind me to grab a pillow, which I hurl at the grinnin’ firecracker, unwittingly givin’ her a glimpse of more than just my ass. Her eyes widen in surprised admiration.

“Oooh, Rogue! You lucky girl, you!” and then she is gone, but I can hear her laughin’ all down the hallway.

“I hope yer not too attached to yer friend, Marie, ‘cause I swear I’m gonna kill her one o’ these days.” I clap a hand to my forehead. “Shit! I forgot to have her over the jackets.”

It doesn’t help that Marie is laughin’ so much that tears are runnin’ down her cheeks. I manage an affronted glare, but this just seems to amuse her more. “Oh, Logan, ya shoulda seen your face!” she finally manages to force out between giggles, as I scowl down at her.

“Shit, Marie, when will ya ever learn ta lock yer door? What if she’d walked in last night?”

This sobers Marie right up. “Oh my! While ah was ……..?” A deep pink tinge colours her cheeks.

“Yer blushin’ now?” I ask, in surprise. “After what ya did last night? Christ, Marie, I can still feel yer fingers around my balls!”

Marie sits up in alarm. “Did ah hurt ya?”

I reach out to twine a platinum lock o’ hair through my fingers. “No, darlin’, ya didn’t. Jus’ kiddin’.”

“Tease!”

I point to myself, feignin’ surprise, an’ she laughs, swingin’ her legs off the bed an’ standin’ up. I growl an’ make a half-hearted attempt to grab her, but she slips easily outta my reach.

“Come on, sugah, we gotta get up. Ah didn’t realise it was so late, an’ ah can’t be late for Storm’s class this morning. Besides, ah have a surprise for you at breakfast.”

“What kind o’ surprise?” I ask, distractedly, lookin’ around the room for my clothes. Where the hell are my pants?

“You’ll see.” Marie skips into the bathroom an’ I hear the shower start up. I slide off the bed, immediately findin’ one o’ my boots at my feet, where it’s been pushed by the openin’ door, but the sound o’ wet splashes distracts the search for the rest o’ my attire an’ I drop the boot on the bed, slippin’ silently into the bathroom, which is already fogged with steamy vapour.

The sound o’ the flowin’ water covers my approach until I slide my arms around my girl’s waist an’ pull her to my chest.

“Oooh, Logan ……..!”

I gotta shower anyway. Makes sense to save water ……..


oooOOOooo



At breakfast, I am introduced to the two mutants the X-men rescued from Boston. Two, ya ask? Ya thought they were going after one, right? Well, so did the X-men, but I’ll get to that later.

Kid’s name is Christopher Harper. Sixteen. Quiet. Still looks kinda shell-shocked, thanks to his treatment at the hands o’ those damn human rights supporters, but he’ll learn to relax soon enough. Likes to call himself Radial, due to being able to emit spherical shockwaves from his body. Great offensive power, so I’m guessin’ Chuck’ll have a field day with that one. If the kid is willin’, that’s another recruit for the cause.

My surprise turns out to be the second mutant – guy by the name o’ Remy LeBeau, also known as Gambit. We met a couple o’ years back in New Orleans. X-men were sent in to take down a local crimelord who was using young mutants as slave labour, an’ the Thieves Guild sent LeBeau to lend a hand. Trouble is, he also claims to have met me before the New Orleans job, but I can’t remember jack-shit o’ any of it.

Anyway, turns out he was in Boston ‘cause he’s on the run from the Thieves Guild. An arranged marriage has been set up between LeBeau an’ a girl from the Assassins Guild in an attempt to forge peace between the two. An’ Remy? He ain’t havin’ none of it, an’ took off. He was in Boston that night by chance, saw the X-Jet arrivin’ to save the boy an’ decided to hitch a free ride an’ claim sanctuary. Chuck’s a sucker for strays, so it seems he’ll be an unofficial member o’ the team for as long as he wants. Or at least until the Thieves Guild find him.

LeBeau an’ the boy dined with the Professor in his private rooms last night – breakin’ ‘em in gently, or some such shit – but while Harper is characteristically quiet over his meal, LeBeau is the life an’ soul o’ the party, charmin’ us with his pretty stories an’ generally settin’ the ladies’ hearts poundin’. I’m okay with this – he can talk as much as he likes, as long as he don’t expect me to contribute – but when he reaches over to steal a piece o’ bacon from my girl’s plate, I growl a warnin’.

He backs off immediately, but there’s a knowin’ twinkle in his devilish red eyes, an’ Marie grins at me as I drain my coffee mug an’ stand to head down to my first class in the Danger Room.

“Jealous, sugah?” she asks, in a whisper only my ears can hear, as I bend to kiss the top of her head in farewell.

“Jus’ lettin’ him know the lay o’ the land,” I retort, an’ leave her to figure it out.

My defence class are already waitin’ for me when I arrive at the Danger Room, minus fightin’ jacket which still bears the fruits o’ Jubilee’s labours. Judgin’ by the silly grins on their faces, it’s obvious the firecracker has been enlightenin’ ‘em all as to what she saw in Rogue’s room this mornin’.

Gotta put a stop to this shit right now, or they’ll think they can walk all over me.

“Okay, listen up. Jus’ cause I got laid last night, it don’t mean I’m in a good mood this mornin’. I want ya ta pair up an’ start warmin’ up. We’re gonna be workin’ on hand ta hand today, an’ here’s the good news, kiddies. Yer gonna be takin’ me on, one on one.”

Heartfelt groans. That’ll teach ‘em.

“Jubilee, front an’ center. I want a word.”

Kid actually looks scared as she approaches, but when I mention my jacket she quickly assures me that she used soluble dye, an’ the writin’ will come off with soap an’ water. Good for her. Otherwise I’d be takin’ the cost of a new jacket outta her allowance.

Nevertheless, I make sure to work her harder than the others durin’ the two hours I’ve got the kids for trainin’ an’ she is sweatin’ like a pig as they head for the showers, although she still finds the strength to pinch my ass as she stalks past.

Obviously thinks her friendship with my girl gives her diplomatic immunity.

Maybe a dunk in the pool will rid her o’ that notion?

I hang back after class an’ spend another hour dicin’ up some Sentinels but, when the programme ends, I still feel antsy. Got too much nervous energy that I need to expend. Forget the Danger Room, what I need is a good old-fashioned brawl.

An’ I know just how to get one.

After lunch, I make a few calls an’ a couple o’ hours later, I get a reply for my efforts. There’s an illegal cage fight going down tonight in a small town called Beauford, about sixty miles away. No questions asked – winner takes all.

There’s a predatory grin on my face as I stalk to Marie’s room. If we set off straight away, we can make it to Beauford in time to check out the competition before the fightin’ starts.

Marie is all for the idea, an’ I know watchin’ me fight makes her horny, so I’m in for a wild time tonight in more ways than one. We both change quickly – me into jeans, layered shirts an’ boots, an’ Marie into a pair o’ jeans so tight they look sprayed on, a crop top that shows a mouth-waterin’ amount o’ bare flesh, an’ a pair o’ knee high, high heeled leather boots with silver studs embedded in the buckles. Dressed like that, I almost change my mind about fightin’ an’ bear her down to the bed to strip it all off her again, but my knuckles are itchin’ to bury themselves in somebody’s face, an’ I’ll still get to strip Marie later anyway.

I‘m just headin’ for the door when Marie reaches into her wardrobe an’ produces my favourite leather jacket – the one that was missin’. I quirk an eyebrow at her as I poke my finger through a bullet hole in the back.

“Ah’m sorry, sugah. It got all shot up when we were ambushed. Ah was gonna get it mended, but ah figured you’d like to wear it tonight.”

“No, don’t bother, I kinda like it.” I shrug into the jacket, checkin’ out my reflection in the full length mirror. “Bullet holes make me look kinda bad-ass, don’t ya think?”

Marie just laughs. “If you say so, sugah!”

Once again, I head for the door, stoppin’ this time when I see my dog-tags lyin’ on the bedside table. Snatchin’ ‘em up, I hand ‘em to Marie. “Wear these.”

“What for?” she asks, takin’ ‘em from me an’ slippin’ the chain over her head.

“Because yer mine,” I reply, simply.

We head out, but down in the hallway we encounter the one person I really coulda done without this evenin’.

“Where’re you going?” Scott asks, from the library doorway.

I respond with a snarl, but Marie favours him with a reply, albeit tinged with venom. “Out,” she snaps. “To Beauford. Logan’s gonna cage fight.”

“Cage fight? Rogue, you let Logan go if he wants to bust heads that badly, but you’re staying right ……..”

“Come on.” I grab Marie’s hand an’ pull her towards the garage door, ignorin’ the rest o’ Summers’ tirade. If he’s not careful, the head I’ll be bustin’ tonight will be his.

In the garage, I look around stupidly, peerin’ between the cars. “Where the hell’s my bike?”

Marie’s hand flies to her mouth. “Oh, Logan, ah’m so sorry, ah forgot! It got all banged up in the crash. Pete dropped it off in town to be repaired, a couple of days ago.”

“Crash?” I question, then shake my head. “Never mind, tell me later. We’ll take the jeep.”

The keys are in the ignition where I left ‘em an’ pretty soon we’re on the road, headin’ for Beauford. It feels kinda liberatin’ to be outta the mansion an’ Marie evidently feels it too ‘cause she props her feet up on the dash an’ leans back in her seat, givin’ me a tasty view o’ shapely leg.

She’s quiet for a long time an’ I figure she’s fallen asleep, until she turns her head an’ regards me with a guilty expression.

“What?” I ask, givin’ her a sideways glance.

“Ah’ve got a confession to make, sugah.”

I frown, suddenly fearin’ the worse. “Go on.”

She fiddles nervously with the hem of her top. “Well, last night, when ah …… you know …… asked you to trust me, I had an ulterior motive.”

“What, ya suddenly turned bad an’ decided to jack me ta death?” I raise a trademark eyebrow. “Got news fer ya, darlin’, it didn’t work.”

“No, Logan, hear me out.” She’s all serious an’ I turn to study her face, keepin’ half an eye on the road. “Y’see, when ya were in the coma, Kitty an’ me, we broke inta the Professor’s files to try an’ find out about ferals – to see if there was anythin’ we could do to help ya.” Her Southern accent is comin’ out again – figure she’s nervous. “An’ we discovered …… that they ……”

“What, darlin’? Don’t keep me in suspense here.”

“That ferals will submit only to their mates,” she blurts, all in a rush. “An’ ah figured that if you …… an’ I …… were truly mated ……”

“That I’d submit to you an’ no one else,” I finish for her. “So ya figured ya’d test me with some intense foreplay?” I knew it! I said she was up to somethin’, didn’t I? I allow myself a taut laugh. “Hell, darlin’, ya found out good an’ proper, didn’t ya?”

“You’re not mad?” She looks at me shyly from beneath lowered lashes an’ I take a hand off the wheel to cup her cheek.

“Hell, no, I’m not mad, darlin’. Ya gave me the best blow-job I can remember, how could I be mad at that?” I return my hand to the wheel an’ give my attention to the road for a second or two as I pass a slow movin’ truck. “So ya found out what ya wanted ta know. We’re a mated pair. Know what else it means?”

“No.”

“It means no fuckin’ around, Marie. Ever.” My voice is low an’ ominous, even to my own ears, but she needs to hear this. “Ferals mate fer life. We’re possessive, over-protective creatures, an’ if anyone messes with our mates, or our mates fool around with anyone else, we take it personally.”

“Then there’s nothin’ to worry about, because I’m a one man woman.” Marie squares herself up an’ looks me right in the eye. “Ah’m all yours, sugah.”

“Damn straight,” I agree, bangin’ my hand on the steerin’ wheel to cement the deal.

The rest o’ the journey is spent companionably enough an’ we pull into Beauford at around seven. There’s not much to look at – just a few stores along a dusty main street, a couple o’ industrial buildings an’ a scatterin’ o’ houses – the kinda place the cops ain’t gonna look at twice. Which is probably why the cage fights are being held here.

We find the venue quickly enough – an old warehouse adjacent to the river. Place is in darkness - they’re hardly gonna floodlight it an’ announce the illegal set up to the general populace, are they? But there are enough cars already in the makeshift parkin’ lot to let me know we’re in the right place.

“Ya ready fer this?” I ask, getting’ outta the jeep an’ walkin’ around to Marie’s side o’ the vehicle. I offer her my arm an’ she takes it, eagerly.

“Sure am, sugah!”

“Then let’s go kick some ass!”

12. Caged Aggression



A black clad figure stationed beside the warehouse’s loadin’ bay door lets me in with barely a glance at the – fake – ID I flash before his face. I’m guessin’ he’s seen my type before – lean, mean an’ obviously cruisin’ for a fight. Marie is another matter – he checks out her ID like he’s expectin’ to find somethin’ wrong with it, but then I catch his eyes rovin’ over the bare expanse of her midriff an’ I realise he’s stallin’ for time, figurin’ out how to chat her up. Plasterin’ a glare onto my face, I snatch the ID outta his hand, grab Marie’s an’ drag her inside. Guy’s lucky I didn’t introduce his face to my fist the way he was all but droolin’ over my girl. ‘Course, I’d drool too, given half the chance, but it really ain’t in keepin’ with the bad-ass image, although I really should let Chuck get a good look at my head. What the hell was I thinkin’ to let Marie come out with me dressed like that? Was I just askin’ for her to be drooled over?

Yeah, Logan, admit it – you were. You wanted a pretty girl on your arm tonight, so that you could strut around an’ show off. You wanted to flaunt your Alpha male status in front o’ all the other guys an’ maybe show Marie that she’s pretty flamin’ lucky to have such a damn fine mate.

Didn’t you?

Okay. So sue me.

Quite a crowd has already gathered inside the warehouse, despite the almost empty parkin’ lot. I’m guessin’ that a lot o’ folks left their cars some distance away an’ walked in. Less chance o’ attractin’ police attention that way, but not so good if you need to make a quick getaway. Me, I prefer to keep my wheels nice an’ close.

A bar has been set up against the far wall an’ I’m just makin’ a beeline for it when we are waylaid by a busty blonde wearin’ cut off jeans an’ a crop top that looks several sizes too small. She has a nice smile though, an’ her eyes latch on to mine as she waves her clipboard at us, cheerily.

“Hi there! I’m Sheryl and I’ll be your fight co-ordinator for this evening. Are you fighting or watching, honey?”

“Fightin’,” I growl back.

That gets her attention an’ she checks me out carefully, her gaze lingerin’ on my crotch a little longer than necessary. She pulls a pen from behind her ear. “Okay, so I’ll just get you signed in and then you’ll be all set to go. What name do you fight under, honey?”

“Wolverine.”

Sheryl writes that down quickly an’ then gives me her full attention. “Okay, so here are the rules; there aren’t any. Anything goes, but the use of weapons is strictly forbidden - fists, feet, teeth and any other body parts only. Entry fee is a hundred. Fight your bout and win – you stay in the cage. Lose and you’re out, it’s as simple as that. Last man standing wins the pot. Any questions?”

I shake my head. “I know what I’m doin’. I’ve fought before.”

“Oooh, a veteran.” Sheryl gives me an easy smile, totally ignorin’ Marie who looks about ready to belt her one. “I thought you had the look of a pro about you.” She sticks her pen back behind her ear. “I’ll come and get you before your first bout, but feel free to relax until then. Fight starts at eight sharp.”

I nod an’ dig into my back pocket for my wallet, quickly producin’ a handful o’ notes. “So how many guys are already signed up to fight?” I ask, nonchalantly, as I hand them over.

Sheryl takes the notes an’ tucks them down the front o’ her top. “Including yourself, ten so far. But we’re expecting a couple of guys in from Westchester and we’ve had advance notice of groups from Merryfield and Wagstaff, so there should be plenty of entertainment tonight.” She pauses an’ looks around her, then leans closer, conspiratorially. “Just between you and me, honey, most of the fighters look like pussies. Big guy like you shouldn’t have any trouble keeping them in line.” Her eyes quickly flick downwards, makin’ her intent clear. “Now I couldn’t help noticing that you have an impressive set of …… umm …… shoulders. Maybe you’d like a massage to help loosen you up before you fight?”

“He wouldn’t.” Marie steps forward an’ I catch a whiff o’ her scent. She smells …… well …… spiky, is the only way I can describe it.

Sheryl doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, hi, sweetie! What’s your name?”

“Rogue.” With a nice growl thrown in for good measure. Atta girl.

“Wow, cool name! Are you his girl or his manager?”

“Both.”

Sheryl actually looks crestfallen. “Shit. Well, can’t blame a girl for trying. No hard feelings, huh, Rogue? Enjoy yourself tonight, honey. Give ‘em hell!”

“Thanks. I intend to.”

I make for the bar, but I am pulled up a couple o’ steps later by a shout from Sheryl. “Hey! Wolverine?”

I turn an’ she winks cheekily at me. “Nice ass you got there, honey.” A quick wave of her clipboard an’ she is gone, meltin’ into the crowd to accost another new arrival.

Marie leans sideways to look behind me. “What is it with you an’ your ass today, sugah?”

“Damned if I know.” I continue my journey to the bar, lettin’ Marie trot behind me to check out the goodies. I test her scent as we move through the crowd – she’s alert an’ excited, but there’s no jealousy present, or malice towards Sheryl. She’s obviously decided the blonde poses no threat.

The barkeep raises an eyebrow as we approach an’ I order two beers, lettin’ my much coveted ass claim a stool. Marie hops up onto the one beside me an’ lets her eyes rove around the room. They are drawn inevitably to the imposin’ metal cage set in the center o’ the floor. She gets a strange look on her face an’ I know she is remembering the day we met.

The barkeep bangs two beers down on the counter between us an’ waggles his fingers at me for cash.

“Keep ‘em comin’.” I growl, an’ he nods an’ walks off, presumably to set up a tab.

Marie sips delicately at her bottle, but I drain half the contents o’ mine in one go, belch manfully an’ then start eyeing up the competition. I’ve never been beaten in a cage fight, but it don’t hurt to know what you’re up against.

Marie notices my intense gaze an’ elbows me in the ribs to get my attention. “Whatchya doin’?”

“Checkin’ out the fighters.” I nod towards a Hispanic built like a brick outhouse a few feet away. “Guy’s a pro, but he ain’t gonna go the distance, even if I wasn’t here.”

Marie gives the guy a discreet glance. “How can you tell?”

“He’s big, but it’s all under-developed muscle,” I explain, enjoyin’ my chance to show off a little. “Got no strength behind a punch. Probably relies on his size an’ weight to bring an opponent down.”

Marie nods, wisely.

“Now, that guy ……” I nod towards a mousey haired teenager showin’ off his muscles – an’ I use the term loosely here – to a faded redhead. “ …… he’s here to impress a girl. Won’t last three minutes.”

Marie chuckles an’ raises her eyebrows. “You can tell all that just by lookin’ at a guy?”

“Sure.” I take a slug o’ my beer. “I’m a predator, Marie. Wouldn’t live long if I didn’t know how ta bring down my prey.”

Sheryl suddenly appears at my side, with a receipt for the hundred. “Here you go, honey. Got you pencilled in to fight third. Couldn’t wait to see those shoulders of yours in action!”

She swirls off into the crowd before I can reply, leavin’ Marie glarin’ after her retreatin’ back.

“She’s harmless, Marie,” I tell her, proppin’ my elbow on the bar.

“I know.” Marie huffs a breath an’ narrows her eyes at me. “But she’s flirting with you, Logan.”

“So? Doesn’t mean I gotta flirt back.” I reach out to caress those platinum locks. “Got my girl right here.”

Marie grins an’ leans in for the kiss I graciously offer. She tastes o’ cherry lip gloss an’ beer an’ I growl appreciatively into her mouth, before breakin’ the clinch an’ leanin’ back with both elbows on the bar. Unconsciously, I realise I’m displayin’ myself to all the other males in the room – the message I’m sendin’ reads ‘I’m big, I’m bad an’ I ain’t afraid o’ you, Bub. You’re goin’ down.”

A heavily muscled bald guy steps into the cage with a microphone, an’ suddenly the tension in the room goes up several notches. There’s a flurry o’ posturin’, flexin’ o’ muscles an’ jacket strippin’ as the fighters get ready. Marie tosses me a glance, but I shrug back. I ain’t strippin’ off until I’m ready to go into the cage.

The referee clears his throat loudly, attractin’ everyone’s attention. “Ladieeees and gentlemen! Let’s get this show on the road!” Cheers an’ whoops of excitement follow this announcement an’ I snort into my beer. “Give a warm welcome to your reigning King of the Cage – Blackheart!”

The Hispanic steps into the cage to the accompaniment o’ loud applause an’ cheerin’. The referee gives him a moment or two to show off, which he takes full advantage of – flexin’ an’ preenin’ for the ladies. Pansy-ass.

“And our first challenger of the evening – Nitro!”

A tall, lean fella steps into the cage, acceptin’ the applause he gets with a gracious wave of his hand. Reminds me o’ Scooter – same sorta build – but he ain’t gonna last long against Blackheart. No stayin’ power.

The referee rings a bell an’ the first fight o’ the evenin’ is on. Nitro goes into immediate action, bouncin’ around the larger guy like he’s bein’ pulled up an’ down on a string from above. Blackheart swings, but the little guy just flips outta his way an’ starts dancin’ again, landin’ a couple o’ punches of his own, but not enough to cause the Hispanic any problems. The little guy is quick, I’ll give him that, but he ain’t gonna be able to keep up the pace for long.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, visibly tirin’ an’ sweatin’ like a pig, he walks right into a roundhouse punch an’ goes down like a ton o’ bricks.

Round one an’ Blackheart still rules the cage.

Nitro is carried out by two of his mates, his head lollin’ from side to side, drunkenly.

The next challenger is the guy out to impress his girlfriend, with the unlikely name o’ Mankiller. He looks terrified, an’ when Blackheart rushes him with a fist held high he backpeddles across the cage with a yell, stoppin’ only when the bars get in the way. Willin’ hands around the outside o’ the cage happily push him back to face the music.

It’s no contest, an’ he’s out for the count in one minute twenty seconds.

His girlfriend is sobbin’ hysterically as he’s helped from the cage by the referee.

Sheryl makes a return appearance. “There’s a ten minute break every couple of fights, honey. You’re up next. Just enough time to get yourself ready.”

I nod an’ remove my jacket, drapin’ it across the bar. Marie pulls it to her an’ puts it across her knee, sendin’ a silent message to all the guys standin’ nearby – ‘I’m his, don’t mess with me.’ When I strip off my shirt an’ wifebeater, I raise a couple o’ appreciative whistles from some nearby ladies, an’ Sheryl nods an’ flashes me a wink. “Nice!”

I leave my boots on my stool an’ pad barefoot across the cold concrete floor to stand before the cage. As I look up at the metal bars, a wave o’ nostalgia washes over me an’ I close my eyes against a sudden rush o’ memories.

…… Keep this up, Stu, an’ you’ll lose more’n yer money……

…… Look out! ……

…… Get outta my bar, freak ……

Takin’ a calmin’ breath, I open my eyes to see the referee beckonin’ me into the cage. “Ladieees and gentlemen – I give you – the Wolverine!”

He draws the last syllable o’ my name out into a lazy drawl, as the crowd greets my entrance to the cage with all the enthusiasm destined for a challenger who they think is gonna exit again pretty damn quick. I hope to disappoint ‘em.

Blackheart is leanin’ against the bars, bottle o’ beer in hand, casually waitin’ out his ten minute break. He looks relaxed, but he’s checkin’ me out, no doubt assessin’ my strengths an’ weaknesses the way I did with him. I pop my neck an’ roll my shoulders, unconcerned. There’s no way he can take me, but he don’t know that yet.

An’ before I do take him down, I intend to have a little fun first.

The ten minutes are up an’ the referee rings the bell. Blackheart comes away from the bars like an express train, evidently hopin’ to take me low an’ hard. He’s obviously figured me for a threat an’ needs to take me out quick.

Trouble is, I ain’t about to oblige him. Trouble for him, that is.

I evade his charge easily with a swift sidestep, bringin’ my fist around into the small of his back as he goes past. The impact makes him stumble, an’ he hits the floor hard, but he recovers quickly, jerks forward an’ rams his fist into my solar plexus as I stalk towards him. I whuff air an’ double over, givin’ him time to get to his feet. His clenched fists on the back o’ my neck make my head spin an’ it is my turn to hit the floor.

With the sound o’ the crowd’s jeerin’ ringin’ in my ears, I roll over just in time to see the kick he’s aimin’ at my ribs. I’m tempted to let it land – he’ll break his foot, but he’ll also expose the presence o’ my adamantium skeleton, an’ then it’s all she wrote. So I roll outta his reach, makin’ him stagger when his kick doesn’t land an’, while he’s unbalanced, I regain my footin’ an’ aim a pile-driver at his jaw. To his credit, he manages to duck just in time an’ my fist simply parts his hair creatively. Havin’ completed our first sortie, we part an’ size each other up.

Okay, so I’ve convinced him I’m not gonna go down with a whimper, an’ now he knows he’s gonna have to work for the win. I can almost see the cogs whirrin’ in his head as he figures out the fastest way to take me down.

We circle each other, weavin’ an’ feintin’ as the mood takes us. I allow a couple o’ his blows to land an’ I know my initial assessment was correct – no strength. An’ havin’ proved my own theory, I decide to end the fight.

I let him land a punch, takin’ it squarely on the jaw an’ staggerin’ slightly to let him think I’m dazed. Sensin’ victory, he comes in for the kill, an’ delivers a crackin’ punch to the side o’ my head. I drop to my knees, shakin’ my head, feignin’ weakness an’ he prepares a cripplin’ uppercut that would no doubt lay me out cold if I were an ordinary guy.

But I ain’t no ordinary guy. The look on his face is priceless as I ‘recover’ from his onslaught, slip through his none-existant defence an’ drop him to the cold concrete floor with a single punch.

Touchdown! The crowd goes wild!

An’ just like that, I am the new King o’ the Cage.

The referee acknowledges the crowd’s new champion by liftin’ my arm in a victory salute an’ I allow a feral grin to cross my face, reapin’ the rewards o’ my labours.

Marie is up on her feet, leapin’ up an’ down with my jacket an’ shirts in her arms, screamin’ my name. Even without my enhanced hearin’, I’d be able to hear her all the way over here. Her eyes are filled with such love an’ pride at my win that I wanna go over there an’ show my mate how pleased I am that she’s rootin’ for me, but Blackheart is bein’ dragged outta the cage by two burly bouncers an’ my first challenger is already waitin’.

The boringly named ‘Dan’ throws a lot o’ fancy punches, but doesn’t actually achieve anything. I show him no mercy, attackin’ relentlessly, an’ he screams ‘uncle’ when I pin him on the bars.

Even before the ten minute break is announced, I am outta the cage an’ stridin’ towards the bar. Marie puts my stuff across the stool an’ all but bounces into my arms, wrappin’ her long legs around my waist an’ smotherin’ my face an’ lips with hot little kisses. Remember what I said about cage fightin’ makin’ my girl horny? Looks like I’m on a promise tonight.

I’m beginnin’ to get some funny looks from the other guys at the bar, so I unwrap her legs an’ let her slide slowly back down to the floor. Her face is flushed as she looks up at me.

“That was great, Logan! You’re in!”

“Did ya ever doubt it?” I counter, flashin’ the barkeep a quick look. I ain’t got long an’ I need beer.

“’Course not!” Marie wraps her arms around me an’ rests her head on my chest. I can feel her fingers playin’ in the small o’ my back an’ somethin’ is definitely gettin’ interested. As the barkeep hands me a bottle, I push her away from me gently, minimisin’ the body contact. It really wouldn’t be practical, or safe, to go back in the cage with a hard-on.

Sheryl is preparin’ another fighter just a few feet down the bar an’ she flashes me a cheery thumbs up. As I take a long, calmin’ slug o’ my beer, I wonder what her obvious interest in me is doin’ for the confidence o’ the other fighters.

My ten minute break seems to last all o’ five an’ in short order I am being called back to the cage. Marie gives me a good luck peck on the cheek before settlin’ back onto her stool with my stuff, an’ I enter the gladiatorial arena an’ await my next opponent.

Turns out ‘Jean-Claude’ fancies himself as a bit of a kickboxer an’ actually gives me a run for my money, landin’ several solid kicks an’ makin’ my head spin with a roundhouse punch that I didn’t see comin’ ‘cause I was too busy watchin’ his damn feet. It won’t happen again. I bide my time, lettin’ him dance around me an’ launch a few kicks which I either deflect or allow to land in order to analyse his style. I finally clock the way his weight shifts subtly just as he’s about to move, an’ the next time he lets loose with a kick to my head I catch his leg mid-spin, flip him over in the air an’ punch the back of his head as he goes down. He hits the floor hard an’ doesn’t move.

The crowd are cheerin’ an’ whoopin’, obviously sensin’ a winner, an’ I flash Marie a look o’ triumph. She salutes me with her beer bottle an’ I turn to face my next opponent.

‘Bonebreaker’ is somethin’ else entirely. He’s massively built an’ it’s all muscle, an’ it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he knows how to use it. He cracks his knuckles as we eye each other up, an’ his face breaks into a knowin’ smile.

The bell rings an’ we begin to stalk each other in an unwary circle. Strange as it may sound, he’s got the advantage here – he’s seen me fight, an’ he’s had time to analyse my style. I’m going into this blind. He’s obviously not willin’ to throw the first punch. So I gotta do somethin’ unexpected.

I drop into a roll, comin’ out with my leg extended to sweep the others’ out from under him. My move has taken him by surprise, but he recovers in time to evade my kick, an’ throws a punch to my exposed head. I back-flip an’ the blow goes wild, leavin’ Bonebreaker wide open. Before he can recover, I slip through his defences an’ deliver a choppin’ blow to his kidneys. Bonebreaker yells an’ staggers back an’ I back off again, as the stalkin’ begins anew.

“You’re good.” I am startled when Bonebreaker addresses me directly. The cage ain’t exactly the place for casual conversation. I grunt a non-committal reply, an’ Bonebreaker tilts his head, curiously. “You think you’ve got me beat, don’t you, Wolverine? But I’ve been watchin’ you an’ I know your weaknesses.”

My weaknesses? I wasn’t aware I had any.

“I know you’re sweet on that pretty little brunette out there. The one with the platinum streaks?” He nods outta the cage an’ just for a second my eyes are drawn to Marie, still yellin’ my name enthusiastically, unaware that she’s now the center o’ attention. A crazed growl vibrates deep in my throat at the implied threat to her safety.

“Y’see, Wolverine, I’m here tonight with some good friends o’ mine. An’ if I don’t win this bout, those friends are gonna wait until your next fight an’ take her outside for some …… alternate …… entertainment.”

The growl goes up a notch an’ I bare my teeth in a feral snarl. It’s an empty threat, I’m sure of it, but I can’t stop the hackles risin’ on the back o’ my neck.

“An’ just in case you think I’m jokin’, my friends have already spiked your girl’s beer while she wasn’t lookin’. It won’t knock her out, but it’ll make her more …… compliant and willin’ for a good fuck.”

“Rrrrraaaauugh!” The saner portion o’ my brain is tellin’ me his words are a ruse to get me to throw the fight, but the animal within me is strugglin’ to the fore, takin’ the threat to its mate’s safety seriously. Bonebreaker’s smile is humourless as we slowly circle each other.

“You don’t believe me? Take a look, Wolverine.”

My eyes slide towards Marie once again, hopin’ to find her unharmed an’ well. An’ the guy standin’ beside her raises his beer bottle to me in salute.

Somethin’ inside me snaps an’ I hurl myself at Bonebreaker, howlin’ like a madman. The crowd goes crazy as we clash in the center o’ the cage, fists flyin’, an’ I feel a sharp pain across my face as somethin’ slices my cheek open.

A ring! He’s cut me with a flamin’ ring!

I spin away from Bonebreaker, questin’ fingers feelin’ my cheek an’ comin’ away red with blood. For a second, I’m tempted to wipe it away, but I haven’t lived this long by being careless an’ I leave it. The blood will cover all traces o’ the skin healin’ beneath.

I lick the blood away from my fingers, sensin’ a red haze flickerin’ on the edges o’ my vision. I’m goin’ feral, but I can’t – not here – not now. My mate is in danger …… must protect ……

Bonebreaker is beckonin’ me in an’ I let go, barrellin’ towards him in a fightin’ crouch. We seem to be headin’ for contact but, at the last second, I duck left an’ his fist whistles harmlessly through my hair. My own pile-driver connects solidly with his jaw, makin’ him grunt in pain an’ shock. The force of it sends him into a spectacular mid-air somersault an’ I am on him before he can even hit the floor, pummellin’ his face relentlessly into the concrete.

It takes the referee an’ two bouncers to pull me off an’, by that time, the crowd are howlin’ for more, whipped into a frenzy by the sight o’ first blood. As I come to my senses, I shrug them off, shovin’ my way outta the cage an’ through the cheerin’ crowd towards the bar, my one thought to reach Marie an’ warn her o’ the danger. She’ll be okay while I’m with her, but I gotta tell her to keep her power on while I’m in the cage. If anyone tries anythin’ funny with her, they’ll go out like a light.

As the crowd thins an’ I near the bar, I am just in time to see the guy standin’ next to her put his arm around her shoulder ……

13. No Pain, No Gain



“Get yer hands off her, bub!”

Marie lets out a startled squeak as I grab the guy’s shoulder an’ swing him away from her, pinnin’ him against the bar with my left hand around his throat. My right fist is pulled back, ready to release the first crushin’ blow. There is a flurry o’ movement as the guys nearest us suddenly develop a desire to do their drinkin someplace safer an’ I lean in close, allowin’ my lips to pull back, knowin’ the sight o’ my canines can instil all sorts o’ fear in my prey. “Ya got ten seconds ta save yer life, pal. Start talkin’. Who’re ya with?”

“Logan, the hell …….?” Marie pushes in close, her eyes suddenly afraid, not for herself, but for what I might do. “Let go of him, Logan, he hasn’t done anything. We were just talking.”

I turn slightly an’ she recoils from the shadow of the beast in my eyes. “Jus’ talkin’, Marie? Talkin’? This guy was gonna rape ya, Marie. Him an’ his friends were gonna take ya outside an’ fuck ya senseless, do ya understand me?”

“But ……..”

She is genuinely confused, but I haven’t got time to convince her o’ this guy’s intentions. His pals are lurkin’ in this warehouse somewhere, waitin’ to get their hands on my girl an’ I ain’t gonna rest until I’ve found every last one of ‘em an’ made ‘em pay.

I tighten my grip on the guy’s throat, makin’ him choke an’ squirm against the bar. I can feel the claws in my fist nudgin’ against the skin between my knuckles, beggin’ to be let out to play. Anger at what these guys wanted to do to Marie is barely keepin’ the beast in check, but I’m so close to going feral …….. so close to losin’ it ……..

My voice is rough as I push my face close to the guy chokin’ in my grasp. “Yer time’s runnin’ out, bub. Talk! Now!”

“Logan ……..” Marie is pullin’ at my arm, tryin’ to get me to let go. I shove her away from me, barely registerin’ now that this is the one I’m seekin’ to protect. I’m too far gone …….. Oh Christ, I’m losin’ it ……..

An’ then Marie’s fist slams into the side o’ my head an’ I reel back, not in pain, but in shock that my mate has raised her hands to me. I release the guy an’ drop into a crouch, snarlin’ in anger as, barely noticed in the red haze o’ my anger, he clutches his neck with shaky hands an’ heaves dry, hackin’ coughs, suckin’ in air.

“Back off, Logan! Ah mean it!” Marie thrusts a finger in my face to hold me in place an’ turns to the guy. “Hey, are you okay?”

The sight o’ her speakin’ to the one who would not have thought twice about hurtin’ her makes my blood boil. I lunge forward with a snarl on my lips only to encounter Marie’s hand on my chest. I could easily overpower her an’ seize my prey, but I won’t do that. She’s my mate. I won’t hurt her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands, still holdin’ me back with that hand on my chest. Her scent, so close to my nose, is comfortin’ an’ I allow it to wash over me, groundin’ me back to reality.

“He’s gonna hurt ya, Marie,” I growl, warningly.

“Hurt me? He’s not gonna hurt me, sugah. This is Mike. He’s a mechanic at the shop where we took your bike.”

“A …….. a mechanic?” Her words penetrate my revenge-fogged brain and I look at her in confusion. “But ……..”

“He’s part of the group from Westchester – his brother’s gonna be fightin’ tonight.” Marie is still holdin’ me back, but I’m startin’ to calm now as her words sink in. “When he recognised me, he came over to let me know your bike will be ready to pick up the day after tomorrow. For goodness sake, he’s not gonna hurt me, Logan.”

I shake my head as the fog an’ the red haze slowly dissipate. “But the guy in the cage said ……..”

I make a grab for Marie’s bottle as I remember what he said about spikin’ her beer. A sniff reveals the presence of no foreign substances – a taste confirms it. “What the hell’s goin’ on?” I growl.

“Ah could ask you the same question, sugah.” Marie has rocked back on one foot, arms folded defiantly. “One minute you’re happily knockin’ ten bells outta the guy in the cage, the next you’re doing the same out here. Gotta get a grip on reality, sugah.”

“The guy in the cage,” I snarl, pointin’ to the large metal structure, “he wanted me to throw the fight, Marie. Said if I didn’t, his friends were gonna take ya outside an’ basically fuck ya ta death.”

“And you thought that I …….. that I was ……..” Mike stares at me in wide-eyed horror, his face visibly paling. “Oh shit ……..”

“It was an empty threat, Logan, nothing more.” Marie rubs my arm to soothe me, her voice low an’ steady. My chest is heavin’ from my exertions an’ I am barely containin’ the anger that makes me wanna lash out an’ kill somethin’. I don’t care who or what, jus’ ……. somethin’. “Logan, are you listening to me? The guy in the cage probably saw Mike come over to talk to me an’ thought he’d raise some mischief. It happens all the time.”

“Not to me, it don’t.” Marie’s theory is plausible, but somethin’ ain’t right – somethin’ I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Well, the guy definitely paid for his mistake.” Mike is startin’ to relax, but I notice he’s placed a stool between us both. “Did you see his face when they dragged him outta the cage?”

“Can’t say as I did, but it serves the bugger right.” I slip an arm around Marie’s waist, pullin’ her close an’ buryin’ my nose in her hair, lettin’ her scent calm me. “He won’t be tryin’ that trick again in a long time.”

Sheryl suddenly appears at my side, her face showin’ signs o’ concern. “What the heck are you doing out here, honey? You’re being called. You have to go back in the cage.”

As if her words were the catalyst, I realise I can hear the crowds callin’ for me, stampin’ their feet on the floor an’ cheerin’. Some of ‘em, probably those that have taken bets on me winnin’, are wavin’ slips o’ paper an’ eyeing me pleadingly. The referee is standin’ at the cage door, beckonin’ me back inside, where my next challenger is already waitin’.

I shake my head against Marie’s sweet smellin’ hair. “I ain’t goin’ in,” I announce, decisively. “I’m throwin’ the fight.”

Marie shoves me back so suddenly that I stumble an’ almost fall over Mike’s stool. By the time I regain my balance, she is glarin’ at me with a face like thunder, her hands on her hips.

“You just get back into that cage, mister, an’ ah won’t take it personally that ya just insulted m’ah honour.” She flings out an arm in the direction o’ the cage, index finger sharply pointed. “Git! Now!”

Tryin’ to ignore the sound o’ Sheryl’s muffled laughter, I raise my hands, pleadingly. “Marie, I ain’t leavin’ ya alone. What if it wasn’t a ruse ……..?”

If at all possible, my girl’s face turns even darker. “What, ya think ah can’t take care o’ m’ah self now? Ya think ah’m not without m’ah defences?” She’s referrin’ to her skin, but bein’ carefull not to say anythin’ in front o’ Mike an’ Sheryl. “You’re not gonna throw the fight just because some guy threatened to rape me, Logan, an’ that’s final! Get back in the cage before ah throw ya over m’ah shoulder an’ carry ya there m’ah self!”

“I’d like ta see ya try,” I snap back, unable to stop the low growl from rumbling around my chest. I’m irked that she’s arguin’ with me, but I’m actually startin’ to smile at the image her words provoke an’ I lean forward, lettin’ my lips brush her ear, suggestively.

“Y’know, I love it when yer angry,” I whisper, breathily, against the delicate flesh, makin’ her shiver despite her best efforts to push me away. “Yer makin’ me horny, girl. I can’t wait to get between yer legs tonight.”

“Go!” Marie finally plants both hands flat against my chest and succeeds in creatin’ some space between us. “Get in that cage, mister, or the only thing you’ll be gettin’ between tonight is your own empty sheets!”

“You’ve got exactly three minutes to return to the cage, honey,” adds Sheryl, checkin’ her watch. “Otherwise I’ll have to declare you a non-combatant. Your place will be taken by the next fighter.”

I’m left with no other choice. Return to the cage or throw the fight an’ suffer Marie’s anger. My girl helps make the choice for me.

“Go, Logan. Thanks to your warning, ah’ll be on the alert from now on. Ah’ll be safe, ah promise you.” Her voice is soft now, holdin’ no trace of her former ire, an’ she reaches out to take my hand, placin’ it against her cheek in affirmation of her love for me. “Go,” she whispers, softly. “Fight for me, Logan.”

“Two minutes,” interjects Sheryl, sharply.

Marie presses a kiss to my palm an’ lets me go.

An’ without a backward glance, I return to the cage ………


oooOOOooo


I am fightin’ well. Although, to be honest, there was never any real danger o’ me bein’ taken out by any o’ my challengers. Most of ‘em don’t even raise a sweat an’ are easily dispatched. I am the King o’ the Cage an’ havin’ the time o’ my life.

Since returnin’ to the fight, I have taken on a total o’ nine challengers – the tenth is just about to go down. I caught him on the side o’ the head with a haymaker a couple o’ seconds ago an’ he don’t look too good. Only his own grim determination is keepin’ him on his feet. I’m bettin’ if I breathe on him he’ll hit the deck. Tempted to try.

Mike’s brother came into the cage two challengers ago. He was good, I’ll give him that, but I ain’t givin’ out charity here an’ he went down to a sharp uppercut. Truth is, I pulled my punch a little, in deference to his brother. Mike has stood by Marie since my case o’ mistaken identity a while back. He don’t need to – now that Marie is aware o’ any possible danger, her skin will take down anybody foolish enough to mess with her – but he don’t know that, an’ I appreciate the sentiment. Good friends are hard to find these days.

My current challenger – I forget his name now, it was somethin’ stupid anyway an’ they’re all startin’ to blur into one – staggers slightly an’ I use the opportunity to launch a fist at his gut. It’s all she wrote for the guy an’ he goes down, wheezin’ an’ hackin’ like an asthmatic. It’s obvious he can’t – or won’t – continue, an’ the referee declares me the winner. Again.

I use my ten minutes to take a leak in the little boy’s room – I’m sweatin’ like a pig, but I’m also knockin’ back the beer like it’s going outta fashion an’ it’s gotta go somewhere. When I return to Marie, she pushes a bottle into my hand before I’ve even sat down an’ I knock back half of it in one go.

Sheryl consults her clipboard. “Next up is a guy called Golddigga, honey.” As I’ve worked my way through the challengers she’s had less an’ less to do and now, with only two fighters left to be called, she’s taken to spendin’ her time with Marie an’ Mike. If not for Marie, I would no doubt have left with her tonight an’ ended up in her bed – her attraction to me is obvious an’ she’s a good lookin’ woman. But there’s only one female I’ll be leavin’ with tonight an’ that’s my mate. My womanisin’ days are over.

“Is he any good?” Mike leans over to look at the information she has written under his name.

“He’s a veteran, if that’s what you mean,” responds Sheryl, thoughtfully. “I’ve seen him fight before. He’s got a mean right hook, so watch yourself, honey.”

I raise an eyebrow at her an’ she flaps a hand at me. “I know, I know. Geez! Y’know, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were one of those mutants, honey. I’ve never seen anyone fight like you before an’ there’s hardly a mark on you.”

Both myself an’ Marie freeze at her words, but Sheryl an’ Mike give no sign o’ noticin’, havin’ returned to their study o’ Golddigga. Marie an’ me toss each other a silent glance.

The referee demands my return to the cage an’ I drain the rest o’ my beer, before returnin’ to the fight. The concrete floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I wait for my next challenger to enter.

Golddigga looks every inch the veteran Sheryl made him out to be. There’s no posturin’ or posin’ for the crowd as he takes his place in front o’ me. Just cool appraisal in his eyes as he checks me out.

When the bell rings, he’s on me like a ferret on a rabbit, an’ I am actually taken by surprise as his thick arm wraps around my neck an’ begins to tighten. With one arm trapped behind my back, I flail helplessly with the other as his chokehold cuts off my air an’ my vision goes blurry. Wrappin’ my fingers around his wrist, I struggle to loosen the grip. There’s a roarin’ in my ears that has nothin’ to do with the crowd, an’ the world holds its breath as they realise their champion is goin’ down ……..

No, he aint. I ain’t given up yet. Slammin’ my head back into Golddigga’s face, I hear a satisfyin’ crack as his nose breaks an’ I twist outta his grasp, quickly puttin’ space between us. Blood is pourin’ from his nose an’ down his chest an’ he pulls his lips back an’ snarls at me. Risin’ to the challenge, I snarl back.

He comes at me with fists flyin’. I dodge the first punch, the second, slip under the third to land a rabbit punch to the gut, only to reel back as his fist connects sharply with the side o’ my head. Christ, he’s strong! Shakin’ my head to clear it, I circle him slowly, watchin’ for an openin’. He circles with me, clenchin’ an’ unclenchin’ his fists, as though aching to get them around my neck.

There’s no subtlety to his attack when it comes – he’s like a rogue elephant in full charge. Kinda reminds me o’ me. I stand my ground, judgin’ the moment, intendin’ to sidestep at the last second an’ take him from behind. But as I swing to the side, my foot lands on a patch o’ blood an’ I slip, thowin’ out a hand to steady myself. Takin’ full advantage o’ my faux pas, Golddigga grabs my arm, swings me around an’ rams me full tilt into the cage bars.

I howl in agony as my shoulder dislocates.

Okay, today’s lesson, kiddies, is Adamantium 101, an’ ya better pay attention ‘cause I’m in a lotta pain here an’ I’m only gonna say this once. Jus’ ‘cause I have an adamantium skeleton, it don’t mean I’m impervious to pain, ‘cause that’s a crock o’ shit. The joints can still rotate, otherwise I’d not be able to move. An’ that means they can be dislocated.

An’ that hurts.

A lot.

I drop to my knees, grippin’ my injured shoulder as Golddigga looms above me. Too late, I see the fist comin’ for the side o’ my head an’ it connects hard, sendin’ me sprawlin’ across the floor. The follow up kick to my ribs lays me out flat an’ when he ducks down to dig the heel of his hand into my shoulder blade I almost pass out from the pain in my arm.

He has me writhin’ on the floor for a few seconds an’ then backs away instead o’ finishin’ me off, no doubt to draw out the agony. He dances around, showin’ off for the crowd, unintentionally givin’ me time to regain my breath. His mistake. When he moves in on me again, I know this is my last chance to take him down before he punches my card. It’s all or nothin’ now.

The kick he aims at my shoulder would have taken me out, no question. But I have no intention o’ lettin’ it land. At the last second, I twist an’ grab his leg with my good hand, flippin’ him around an’ bringin’ him crashin’ to the floor beside me. Before he can recover, I wrap my legs around his throat an’ begin to apply pressure, tearin’ a cry o’ agony from my own throat as I accidentally jostle my shoulder in the process. With his head locked between my thighs, he begins to choke as his airway is constricted, scrabblin’ futilely at my jeans in an effort to pull me away. But this is a killin’ hold an’ there’s no way out of it.

Leastways, not one that I’ve ever discovered anyway.

When his body goes limp, I open my legs an’ let him roll free, topplin’ to the ground beside his unconscious form with a ragged groan.

Just for a moment, everythin’ goes black ……..

“Logan? Sugah, can ya hear me ……..?” I open my eyes to a blur o’ bright light an’ an indistinct face hoverin’ above me. Scent tells me it’s Marie. “Oh god, Logan, are ya okay?”

“Hurt ……..” It’s testament to how much pain I’m really feelin’ for me to admit it. I struggle to rise an’ she takes my good arm to help. Mike moves in from somewhere behind me an’ together they get me to my feet. It’s then that I notice Sheryl arguin’ with the referee. The crowd have gone quiet, waitin’ to see what’s gonna happen. It’s obvious I won, but my injury complicates things.

Sheryl an’ the referee argue back an’ forth for a couple o’ seconds an’ then she comes hurryin’ over. “You’ve got thirty minutes, honey,” she declares, somewhat breathlessly. “Fool ref was all for declaring you a non-combatant on account of you not being able to continue, but the rules quite clearly state that a fighter has thirty minutes injury time should an accident occur. If you’re not fit to fight after that time elapses, then the next fighter takes over the cage. As there’s only one challenger left, he will win the title.”

“But he hasn’t fought at all,” Marie objects. “That isn’t fair!”

Sheryl shrugs. “Those are the rules, honey. I’ve been organising these illegal bouts for years – I should know.”

There’s clearly more to our fight co-ordinator than meets the eye.

“Come on, sugah, let’s get you fixed up.” Marie starts to lead me from the cage.

“Take me outside,” I manage to force out around the pain.

“Sugah?”

“Outside, Marie. To the jeep.”

I try to keep my weight off her as we weave through the crowd towards the door, but the pain is all-consumin’ an’ I’m startin’ to feel dizzy. Sheryl catches up with us as the guy at the door opens up to let us out, after tellin’ Mike to stay put an’ not let the ref declare me null an’ void while I’m away.

The cool night air revives me somewhat as we move across the parkin’ lot an’ I’m actually feelin’ more in control o’ my faculties by the time we reach the jeep. My left arm is hangin’ uselessly at my side though, an’ my shoulder is skewed at an odd angle. Gentle probin’ with my fingers confirms the dislocation.

“What are you gonna do, honey?” Sheryl watches me with concern in her eyes. Marie has gone slightly pale. I think she knows what’s gonna happen, but can’t quite bring herself to believe it.

“Gonna pop it back in,” I growl back. I’d prefer to do this without Sheryl’s involvement, but she’s here an’ I can’t wait for her to go. Gotta do it now, before I run outta time to heal up afterwards.

“Pop it back in …….?” Sheryl’s eyes open wide an’ she takes a step back. “You’re crazy!”

“Yeah,” I retort. “But not crazy enough.”

“What do you want me to do, sugah?” Marie swallows hard an’ steps nearer, obviously wishin’ I didn’t have to do this. So do I, darlin’. So do I.

“Hold me steady on my good side,” I tell her. “Don’t let me pass out.”

“Okay ……..”

She moistens her lips an’ moves nervously into place. To her credit, Sheryl steps up beside her, although her face is pale an’ she looks ready to hurl at any moment. I give both of ‘em a steady glance, then turn an’ slam my shoulder into the jeep’s roll bar.

“Rrrruuuaaagh!!”

The howl that is torn from my throat resembles that of a tortured animal an’ seems to reverberate around the parkin’ lot. As my knees begin to buckle, I feel Marie an’ Sheryl step into my good side an’ together they turn me around an’ ease me down to the ground, where I lean my head back against the side o’ the jeep.

“Jesus Christ!” I spit out, just for a second lettin’ my anger get the better o’ me. “That fuckin’ hurt!”

“Is it back in?” Marie is lookin’ a little green around the gills, but bearing up well, all things considered.

I roll my shoulder experimentally, hearin’ a strange gulpin’ noise from Sheryl. “Yep. Right as rain.”

“You’re as mad as a box of frogs, did you know that?” Sheryl pokes an accusin’ finger in my chest, earnin’ herself a growl. “I’ve never …….. and you …….. I ……..” She gives up an’ regards me keenly, eyes narrowed. “You’re not human, are you?”

I study her face for a second or two, while Marie looks on, her mouth formed into a perfect little ‘O’ of surprise. I finally figure I owe Sheryl the truth, whether it gets us kicked out o’ the tournament or not.

“I’m a mutant,” I tell her, honestly. “A feral.”

“A feral.” She repeats the unfamiliar phrase back to me, noticeably avoidin’ the ‘M’ word. “And what the hell’s a feral?”

“I have enhanced senses an’ athletic ability. I also have a healin’ factor. Means I can recover from just about any injury.”

“Is that so?”

She rocks back onto her haunches an’ folds her arms, her brow creasin’ as she looks me up an’ down. Beside me, I hear Marie draw in a breath an’ hold it, waitin’ for the bombshell to drop. I mentally begin to add up the amount o’ time I’ll need to get inside the warehouse an’ grab my car keys before Sheryl calls security on us. If everything’s gonna go belly up, we’ll need to make a getaway, pretty damn quick.

“You heal, huh?” She snorts an’ her face breaks into a huge smile. “In that case, you’d better get back into the cage an’ take on your final challenger, honey. It wouldn’t be right to deprive the punters of their chance to crown their rightful Cage King, now, would it?”

Marie squeals an’ lunges over to hug her.

“I’m just a sucker for a guy with a nice ass.” Sheryl grins ruefully as she stands up an’ dusts off her shorts. “Now, much as I’d like to sit out here an’ chat with you nice people, there’s at least fifteen hundred dollars in the fight pot waiting to be won, an’ I’m guessing it’s got the name ‘Wolverine’ written all over it. Do you agree?”

“Damn right.” I get to my feet an’ Marie high fives me excitedly.

“How long have I got?” I ask, glancin’ at Sheryl

She checks her watch. “Ten minutes.”

“Good,” I growl back. “Just enough time fer a beer …….”

14. Heaven on Four Wheels



I sometimes wonder how I manage to get myself into these situations, y’know. All I wanted was a chance to grab a few beers, let off some steam an’ maybe get laid as a way to end off a perfect night’s entertainment. Instead, my girl has been threatened with rape, I’ve had my arm dislocated, an’ I’m currently gettin’ up close an’ personal with the bars o’ the cage while my latest challenger acquaints his fist with my kidneys.

The guy’s name is Hammer, an’ he’s built like the Hulk, only twice as mean. About four seconds ago he managed to get his meaty fist around my neck an’ slam my face into the bars with a clang that I’m sure was heard clear across the warehouse. From here, I can see Marie, standin’ by the bar, pumpin’ the air with her fist, willin’ me to break free an’ give the guy some payback.

But I can’t move – he’s got me pinned – an’ when his fist crashes into the small o’ my back I groan in pain. My knees buckle an’ Hammer lets me go, leavin’ me to slide down the bars into a heap on the concrete floor. Jus’ leave me here fer a moment, willya? Don’t ferget ta wake me on yer way out.

Hammer roars at the crowd, then reaches down to tuck a hand in the waistband o’ my jeans, haulin’ me to my feet. I flail in his grip for a moment, before he deposits me on my feet an’ plants an uppercut on my chin that sends me staggerin’ clear to the other side o’ the cage. I land heavily on my ass an’ sit there for a moment, lettin’ the cage stop spinnin’ while Hammer struts around an’ preens for the crowd.

He’s gotta be a mutant. Nobody else could dish out such punishment an’ haul me about like a rag-doll the way he does. That uppercut he just gave me shoulda broken every one of his fingers an’ left him howlin’ in pain, yet he shrugged it off as though it were nothin’ more than a love-tap.

O’ course, it’s not impossible for him to be a mutant. I’m competing after all, an’ where there’s one there’s bound to be others. Thing is though, I’m careful never to expose myself as such when I fight. I try not to get myself injured so that people don’t see me heal. I don’t fight to my full potential – using all the techniques I’ve learned over the years would be a sure-fire way to be labelled as a ‘mutie’. I try not to go feral, an’ I never unsheathe the claws. Guy gotta be careful. A room full o’ truckers lookin’ to see a good fight or two an’ maybe get drunk a little can suddenly become a lynch mob when they think they’ve spotted a ‘mutie’ in their midst. So I’ve learned to fight real careful over the years.

This guy though – Hammer – he acts like he don’t care. An’ that makes him dangerous. ‘Cause if he goes down, the other two mutants in the room – namely me an’ Marie – don’t wanna be going down with him.

Which means I gotta take him out real quick like.

Gettin’ his attention ain’t gonna be a problem, ‘cause he’s already tired o’ showin’ off for the crowd an’ is comin’ for me again. I think he’s ready to finish me off this time – I can see the bloodlust in his eyes.

Let’s see if I can use that to my advantage.

I get to my feet as he rushes me an’ barrel forwards, catchin’ him in the gut with my head an’ wrappin’ my arms around the bulk of his waist. He grunts as we collide an’ I use my momentum to push him back the way he’s just come, the breath whooshin’ outta him as he crashes heavily into the very bars he’s just had me pinned against. On the pretext o’ standin’ up straight, I ‘accidentally’ manage to catch him under the chin with the top o’ my head. His jaw snaps shut with a resoundin’ click, an’ the impact actually makes me see stars for a moment, so he must be in a whole world full o’ hurt right about now. While he’s busy countin’ the birdies flyin’ around his head, I jab him in the stomach hard enough to make him double over, then bring both hands down in a firm chop to each side of his neck. He drops like a stone an’ doesn’t move again.

Well, whaddaya know? Guess the fella had a glass jaw ……..

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause as the referee lifts my arm to acknowledge the rightful King o’ the Cage an’ suddenly there are people all around me, slappin’ me on the back an’ shoutin’ an’ hollerin’ an’ all but steppin’ on the poor guy on the floor in their bid to congratulate me. A growl rushes to my throat as I feel myself being mobbed an’ I know I gotta get outta the crush before I do somethin’ I’ll regret later. I push away from the referee, who tries to pull me back to say a few words to the crowd, but I ain’t havin’ none of it an’ I shoulder my way to the cage door, where I suddenly find myself face to face with Marie an’ there is such love an’ pride in her eyes that it near takes my breath away. An’ then she is flingin’ her arms around my neck, an’ I willingly allow her to take my lips with hers as I lock my hands around her waist an’ pull her flush against my body, leanin’ into her possessively, denyin’ anyone to take her from me.

I am the King o’ the Cage. This is my territory …….. my mate …….. an’ if ya don’t believe me just ask the girl with the lips attached to mine ……..


oooOOOooo



“Ah think we should be gettin’ home, sugah.” Marie hiccups softly as she blinks at me an’ I reach out to caress those platinum streaks I love so much. “Ah’ve had enough. Ah wanna go to bed.”

“Any room in that bed fer me?” I ask, in a low voice intended for Marie’s ears alone, totally ignorin’ Sheryl, who is leanin’ on the bar with her head in her hands. Since winnin’ the tournament we’ve been celebratin’ as a group most o’ the night. Mike left sometime around two, with his pals in tow an’ a promise to do his best to get my bike ready for tomorrow. Most o’ the other revellers have already drifted away, leavin’ just me, Marie an’ Sheryl, an’ a few drunken stragglers who don’t seem to have homes to go to. The barman is wipin’ glasses, but keepin’ a close eye on me – I’ve managed to run up quite a substantial bill an’ I guess he doesn’t want me to blow the joint before I’ve settled up.

Marie takes my hand in hers an’ presses a kiss to my palm, her eyes hot with promise. “If ya get me home before ah pass out, sugah, ya might still be in for a wild night.”

I immediately turn to signal the barman. “Bill. We’re leavin’.”

Sheryl looks up as I pull a handful o’ fifties outta my winnings an’ slap ‘em on the bar. “What, going so soon? It’s only ……..” She peers at her watch, but judgin’ by the way she keeps movin’ it back an’ forth I’m guessin’ she can’t see it too clearly. “Oh well, whatever ……” She slips off her stool an’ moves around to Marie, enfoldin’ my surprised girl in a companionable hug. “See you around, honey. You take good care of him, y’hear?”

Marie nods, blushin’ prettily. “I will,” she promises.

“And you ……” Sheryl releases Marie and turns to me. “If you’re ever in the neighbourhood, come fight for us again, y’hear? That was some show you put on for us tonight.”

I nod an’ she pulls me into a close hug which I return as casually as I can without raisin’ Marie’s hackles. As she pulls back, I feel her hand glide into my pocket an’ I realise she’s probably just slipped me her telephone number. Gutsy lady.

Marie links her arm through mine as we leave the warehouse. The cool night air seems to revive her somewhat an’ she grins at me as we take to the jeep. “Sheryl slipped ya her phone number, didn’t she?” It’s a simple question, asked without trace o’ malice or jealousy.

I shake my head as I put the keys in the ignition, startin’ up the engine with a throaty roar. “I dunno,” I answer, honestly.

“Are ya gonna look?”

“No need to, Marie. I have a mate. Don’t need another one.”

The answer seems to satisfy her an’ she falls silent as we drive through Beauford an’ head for the main Westchester route. She settles in for the long drive home as we reach the open road an’ pick up speed.

For a while we drive in silence, content with each other’s company. Marie is hummin’ softly to herself, eyes closed, a gentle smile playin’ across her lips an’ one elegant finger tappin’ the imaginary beat on her thigh. I’m nursin’ a nice buzz from all the beer I’ve consumed tonight. Not enough to impair my concentration – I can’t get drunk after all – but enough to give me an enjoyable high as we drive.

Marie eventually turns to me with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Ah’ve been wonderin’, sugah? Have ya ever made love in a jeep?”

The innocently phrased question sends a jolt o’ heat straight to my groin. “Can’t say as I have, darlin’.” It’s an effort to keep my voice from betrayin’ the hope in my voice as I reply. “Plenty o’ cars, as I recall. A truck once or twice. On the back of a bike once.” I wink at her as I say this an’ she surprises me with a blush. “But never a jeep. Why?”

Marie wriggles around in her seat until she’s leanin’ against my shoulder, her mouth close to my ear. “Care to try?” she whispers seductively, lettin’ her right hand rest lightly on my belt buckle.

“While we’re movin’, or would ya prefer me to stop?” I can’t help lookin’ down as one finger traces the path o’ my zipper downwards.

“Whatever ya think’ll be the easiest, sugah.”

I groan as her hand slides lower an’ gently squeezes, forcin’ all thoughts o’ safe drivin’ from my mind. She begins to rub me in slow, lazy circles an’ my eyes drift closed in blissful ecstasy as the erotic friction steals away the last o’ my self control an’ prompts a tell-tale bulge to begin growin’ in my jeans. Marie giggles delightedly at the power she has over my traitorous body an’, not for the first time, I wonder where the shy an’ demure girl I first picked up in my camper in Laughlin City has gone to. That Marie was quiet an’ innocent an’ would never have massaged a guy’s balls while doing seventy-five in an open top jeep. This Marie ……… well, let’s just say that I like this one better.

“Road, sugah.”

Marie’s voice right by my ear forces my eyes open an’ I jerk the steerin’ wheel around just in time to avoid runnin’ us both off the road. Jesus! Marie laughs excitedly, her alcohol fogged brain obviously turned on by our brush with death an’ I turn to give her a glare.

“The hell ya tryin’ ta do, darlin’? Get us both killed? Or worse?”

“What a way to go though, sugah,” she practically purrs in return, an’ before I can stop her, she pulls down my zipper an’ pushes her hand deep inside my jeans.

“Christ, Marie ……!” Her hand is cold an’ only my death grip on the steerin’ wheel keeps me anchored to my seat. My survival instincts are tellin’ me to remove her hand before I acquaint the jeep thoroughly an’ fatally with a tree, but my ecstasy sodden brain is givin’ my common sense a sound thrashin’ as it yells at me to leave her be. The beast within me is backin’ up that notion an’ is keepin’ the voice o’ reason distracted while don’t-give-a-fuck sneaks up on him unnoticed from behind.

“Find somewhere, fast, or ah swear ah’ll pull ya out right now an’ give ya a blow-job ya’ll never forget, sugah.” Marie growls warningly into my ear.

I take the next exit at somethin’ close to ninety-five.

Much as I’d appreciate gettin’ the blow-job o’ my life, I’d rather not be drivin’ a jeep when I get it. It’d be dangerous an’ downright irresponsible, to say the least. An’ I’d rather not have to explain to the cops how I managed to total my jeep on a completely deserted stretch o’ road with no other vehicles for miles around.

Marie’s hand is gettin’ insistant an’ I almost groan out loud with relief when I see a sign for one o’ those driver’s rest stops set among the trees. By day, they are usually full o’ weary travellers an’ rowdy kids, but experience knows that they are often deserted at night, frequented only by long distance truck drivers gettin’ some shut-eye between pick-ups. I pray that this one is similarly empty as I take the turn off an’ drive in.

Two trucks are outlined by my headlights as I reach the parkin’ area, but they are situated near the exit ready to make a quick getaway in the mornin’ an’ I drive clear across the lot, bumpin’ up the curb an’ weavin’ between the picnic tables dotted around the grass before choosin’ a spot at random under a heavily branched tree an’ bringin’ the jeep to a rockin’ halt. Before I’ve even switched off the engine, Marie reaches over to pop my fly button, releasin’ my engorged shaft into her eager hands. With a tiny moan of longin’, she ducks down an’ takes me into her mouth.

“Oh god, yes ……” The sensation of her soft warmth around my heated length is heaven an’ I allow my head to fall back against the seat as I tangle one hand into her hair to prevent her from pullin’ back too far. With the other, I grip the roll bar above my head, usin’ it for leverage as I rock my hips in time to her movements. “Oh, baby, that feels so good ……”

She really is spectacularly talented at this …….. god knows where she learned it from, but she knows all the right tricks to get me groanin’ an’ writhin’ for her. As before, she goes for her patented three-pronged attack – one hand an’ mouth on my cock, the other hand squeezin’ my balls – but this time she’s tryin’ somethin’ new, alternatin’ between soft an’ gentle, an’ rough an’ hard. The gentle lick, hard squeeze, sudden bite, soothin’ stroke combination is drivin’ me steadily insane with pleasure an’ the sound o’ my own ragged breathin’ is loud in my ears. I can feel a growin’ heat at the base o’ my cock an’ I know it ain’t gonna be long before I fill my lover’s mouth with my load.

“Marie …….. god, Marie, I can feel it …….. it’s startin’ …….. I’m gonna come, baby …….” My voice is shakin’ as I plead with her to finish me off an’ I groan helplessly, completely an’ utterly at her mercy.

“Come for me, sugah,” Marie whispers against the top o’ my shaft. “Ah wanna taste you.” An’ then she flicks that talented tongue o’ hers into the slit in the crown, questin’ for my precious elixir, an’ I explode spectacularly an’ thoroughly into her mouth.

“Jesus ……!” My ass leaves the seat as I thrust into her mouth, givin’ her everythin’ I’ve got an’ then some. The last time we did this I lost control an’ turned feral an’ I can’t remember a thing o’ what happened afterwards. Believe me, I have no intention o’ lettin’ that happen again. I wanna remember every last second o’ tonight.’

Marie sits back as I drop heavily into my seat, my chest heavin’ with the force o’ my ejaculation. “Sweet Jesus, Marie, that was somethin’ else ……..” My eyes are still closed an’ I feel her breath on my lips right before she speaks.

“You taste good, sugah. Wanna share?”

An’ then she kisses me, an’ I can taste myself on her tongue as she pushes it between my teeth, claimin’ my body for her own. I wrap my arms around her an’ pull her against my chest as she moans into my mouth.

“Ah need you, Logan …….. ah need to feel you inside me ……..”

Damn right! I fumble with the lever at the side o’ my seat, slidin’ it back as far as it’ll go to make room between myself an’ the steerin’ wheel. Marie scrambles back into her own seat an’ begins to tug at a boot while I lift my ass an’ push my jeans down to my knees. I am still semi-erect, but I wanna be ready for Marie as soon as she wants me and so I take myself in hand an’ stroke up an’ down my length a couple o’ times, groanin’ as I imagine Marie’s soft hands on me. I immediately begin to grow hard an’ when I glance to the side I discover that Marie has stripped to her panties an’ is watchin’ me with hungry eyes.

“It’s turnin’ me on somethin’ fierce watchin ya do that, sugah, but ah really think that’s m’ah job, don’t you?”

I nod, speechless, an’ she slips over to straddle my legs, holdin’ my cock between her hands so that it keeps brushin’ against her soft belly. Growlin’, I push her crop top up, discoverin’ to my delight that she neglected to wear a bra this evenin’. Her soft, pert breasts are perfectly displayed before me an’ I cover them with my hands, earnin’ myself a sharp gasp of pleasure as I pinch the nipples an’ roll ‘em between my fingers.

We spend some time fondlin’ each other - being soft an’ playful - doing just enough to keep each other on the boil, but not enough to make us come. We are both breathin’ hard by the time Marie raises herself up slightly, her head thrown back as I suck on one nipple an’ finger the other. I understand immediately that she is ready an’ I take hold of her panties at the hips an’ rip ‘em away with a sharp tug, tossin’ ‘em over the side o’ the jeep. She positions herself to take me in, an’ her eyelids flutter in obvious pleasure as she impales herself on my rigid shaft an’ begins to work me deeper.

“Ooooh, Logan …….” A breathy sigh escapes her lips as she slides slowly down my length an’ I rest my hands on her hips to steady her, resistin’ the impulse to buck, lettin’ her set the pace. She moans softly, her back archin’ as she reaches her limit. “God, so hard …….. ah can feel every inch of you, sugah …….. so good ……..”

Placin’ her hands on my shoulders, she begins to ride me, movin’ slow an’ steady, an’ I growl at the heady rush o’ sensations pulsin’ through my veins, sendin’ a prayer o’ thanks to the X-Gene that makes it possible for us to have sex like this an’ not have to wear a condom. ‘Course, I’d never go bareback with an X-Gene negative human – not unless I wanted to father lots o’ little ferals anyway. Y’see, the X-Gene – as well as givin’ us all these neat powers – actually acts as a natural contraceptive. Childbirth between two mutants is extremely rare, maybe one in ten thousand, according to Henry, perhaps more. The chances o’ childbirth increases greatly between a mutant and a ‘normal’ human and will often result in X-Gene positive off-spring, especially if the mutant is the male, seein’ as the male carries the positive gene. So, although the X-Gene is responsible for much heartache an’ hatred between humans an’ mutant-kind, it actually makes it possible for me to experience the full essence o’ Marie the way nature intended as she slowly an’ surely pleasures herself towards her inevitable climax.

She’s in another world entirely, her spine arched an’ her head tilted so far back that her hair is brushin’ my knees. I relinquish my hold on her hips an’ move my hands to her breasts, gently rubbin’ the erect nipples with my thumbs an’ she tilts forward, moanin’ softly, her face flushed pink with the glow o’ good sex. Puttin’ her hands over mine to keep ‘em in place, she rocks forward, nuzzlin’ into my neck, an’ I lift my chin, allowin’ my mate to lick an’ nip my neck. The combined pleasure of her movement up an’ down my length coupled with her mouth on the sensitive flesh o’ my neck acts as a sensory overload an’ I groan helplessly with carnal lust, needin’ – wantin’ – more.

“ ……..Faster, Marie ……..” I manage to croak out between panted breaths. “Ride me harder, darlin' …….. I wanna come inside you …….”

She moans deliriously at my words, drawin’ back from my neck so that she can lean back an’ brace her hands on my knees. I mourn the contact, but this new position means she can get deeper an’ faster penetration an’ I can’t help buckin’ up to meet her on the next downward stroke, all but crazed with the need to get as deep inside my mate as physically possible. The resultin’ nudge she gets o’ me inside causes her grip to tighten on my knees an’ she tosses her head back in the throes of ecstasy.

“Oh god, yes, Logan ……. do it again ……. ! God, yes ……! Yes …..!”

She is like a creature possessed as she responds without question to her body’s needs, lettin’ herself go with an abandon that is as frightenin’ as it is beautiful. I know she is close to her climax – I can feel her walls beginnin’ to tighten around me – an’ when I reach down to rub her just in the right spot, she arches back with a startled cry, shakin’ like a leaf as she comes around me, an’ screamin’ my name into the approachin’ dawn.

As the tremors of her orgasm ease away, she collapses against me, whimperin’ softly an’ shakin’ every now an’ then as a spasm hits. Still deep inside her, an’ enjoyin’ the feelin’ o’ possession this invokes in me, I brush her hair away from her face, pressin’ a kiss to her forehead as she looks up at me with hooded eyes.

“You didn’t come,” she observes, seriously.

I shake my head. “Wasn’t time.” I allow a wolfish smile to cross my lips. “Jus’ means we get ta go again.”

“Oh god, no, Logan! Ah can’t! Not so soon. That last one took too much outta me.”

I snort an’ twist around, pullin’ outta her an’ lettin’ her slide to the seat in my place. “Yer not gettin’ outta this so easily, Marie,” I growl against her neck. “I wanna come inside ya, an’ what the Wolverine wants, the Wolverine gets.”

She actually shivers at my words an’ on sight alone I’d swear she was afraid o’ me. But my enhanced senses don’t lie, an’ they’re pickin’ up nothin’ but lust an’ need. No matter what she says, or how she acts, she wants me, pure an’ simple.

God, she’s beautiful. Lookin’ at her sittin’ there, almost naked, with her crop top bunched above her breasts like that, her silky hair fallin’ around her shoulders, my breath is taken away by the mere sight o’ her. She’s perfect. An’ she’s mine. I don’t deserve her. Honestly, she’s too good for me but, for some reason she’s chosen to stand by my side as my mate an’ my feral nature has confirmed her selection. I won’t ever profess to understand why, but I simply accept this as the miracle it is. To do any less would be to deny our love for each other.

I suddenly realise she is watchin’ me with a mixture o’ puzzlement an’ concern in her fathomless green eyes. She reaches up to stroke my cheek. “Y’okay, sugah?”

“Marie, I ……..” I suddenly find myself lost for words, an’ I lower myself down to capture her lips with mine, showin’ her with actions what I can’t put into words. Already standin’ in the footwell, I place my hands on the back o’ the seat for balance, loomin’ large over her as I nudge her legs apart with my knees an’ position myself between them. She whimpers a little in the back of her throat as she feels my semi-hard cock nudge against her delicate folds an’ I rub myself into her slick wetness, feelin’ myself harden with the thought of enterin’ her. Shakin’ with desire, I trail a line o’ heated kisses along her jawline to her ear.

“God, I want you so much, Marie ……..” She shivers as my hot breath tickles the sensitive skin an’ I moan in reply, losin’ myself in the feel of her beneath me. “You make me so hot for you …….. so crazy ……..”

I shift my hips forward, allowin’ the head o’ my cock to slip inside her. She moans an’ wraps her long legs around my hips, which has the added bonus o’ makin’ me slide deeper. Oh yes …….. I stifle a growl o’ pleasure.

“Gonna make this feel so good, Marie …….. make ya scream my name …….” Another shift, another couple o’ inches into her sweetness, an’ I’m feelin’ dizzy with the sense o’ her surroundin’ me – acceptin’ me. I nuzzle into her neck, nippin’ playfully at her heated flesh. “So hard for you, Marie …….. gonna fill ya with my seed …….. make strong, healthy cubs …….”

Eh? Where the hell did that come from? I cover my confusion by pushin’ forward once more, takin’ her fully with one final stroke an’ buryin’ myself to the hilt in her sweet warmth. I give her a moment to adjust to the feel o’ me, brace one knee on the seat next to her leg for leverage, an’ then begin to move ……..

Sweet Jesus, I’ve died an’ gone to heaven ……..! This can’t be real, ‘cause nothin’ that feels this good could ever be earthly …….. Time slows …….. all thought an’ feelin’ disappears save for that of our bodies movin’ together in perfect union. Even the jeep ceases to exist. There’s just me, Marie an’ the sound o’ laboured breathin’ loud in our ears ……..

Kill me now, ‘cause nothin’ will ever be better than this ……..

Somewhere in the back o’ my mind, I’m aware that somethin’ has changed. What started as a yearnin’ for sex has grown …….. evolved ……… into somethin’ deeper that holds far more meanin’. An’ suddenly I know. What we’ve had before – what we’ve experienced – it was only ever about sex. The desire of two bodies comin’ together for mutual need. This …….. this is somethin’ else ………

This isn’t sex …….. this is makin’ love ……..

An’ with that realisation comes the desire for release, beginnin’ as a burnin’ at the base o’ my cock, a tightenin’ o’ my balls an’ the clenchin’ o’ muscles that makes me wanna thrust – hard – an’ when I come it’s with a taut spine, head thrown back an’ the sound o’ Marie’s name tearin’ from my throat.

I’m a long time comin’ down from the high place, an’ when I do it’s to the feel o’ Marie’s hands strokin’ my rigid arms an’ the sound o’ my name on her lips. Droppin’ a kiss to her forehead to reassure her, I slip outta her an’ change places, gatherin’ her onto my lap an’ restin’ her head against my chest an’ allowin’ a soft growl to rumble in my throat – soothin’ an’ calmin’ us both.

I feel her stir against me an’ look down into those beautiful green eyes. “You’re doin’ it again, sugah. You’re purring ……..”

An’ only then do I realise she’s right ……..

15. Crash and Burn



I could get used to this – wakin’ up with my girl curled against me, our legs entwined, our hearts beatin’ as one. I could get used to the feelin’ o’ being wanted – needed – by someone. Used to the heady sense of …….. of belonging.

I can hardly remember how we got back to the mansion last night – the details o’ that mundane drive through the fast approachin’ dawn aren’t important anyway, an’ they’re overshadowed by the powerful memories of our love-makin’ in the jeep – memories so vivid they cause a stir of remembered interest in my groin. I remember kissin’ an’ cuddlin’ with Marie on my lap until the first tinge o’ pink in the sky warned of the coming dawn an’ remindin’ us we had to get home before we were missed. The driver o’ one of the trucks parked near the exit leaned out of his window as we approached, thankin’ us for one helluva show, his eyes still glassy after jerkin’ off to our performance. He wanted to know if we’d be back the followin’ evening.

I gave him a wolfish smile an’ said we’d consider it.

God knows how we managed to get upstairs to my room. With Marie walkin’ backwards in my arms as she smothered my face with hot, demandin’ kisses, it’s a miracle we didn’t fall over something an’ break our fool necks. I vaguely remember Scott yellin’ something as we bumped against his bedroom door in our sex-fuelled fumblings, but Marie had her tongue in my ear at that point an’ my senses were going crazy. I could hardly recall my own name, let alone make a coherent reply.

I remember Marie whisperin’ my name as we made love once more to the first chorus of birdsong outside my window, only to fall asleep in a tangle of arms an’ legs, our love-lust finally sated.

For now …….

I feel Marie stir against me an’ I tighten my grip around her waist, hearin’ her whisper my name softly in response. Even in sleep she’s aware of me – she knows I’m here – an’ I can’t help nuzzlin’ into her neck, breathin’ in the sweet scent of her an’ knowin’ she’s mine. She belongs to me – body an’ soul – an’ the beast within howls its approval.

We have a fine mate, the Wolverine an’ I. An’ one day she’ll bear us many fine cubs.

What the ……..? There I go again. What the hell is wrong with me lately? Anyone would think I wanted to be a father, or something.

An’ why the hell not, bub? The beast stirs an’ flexes its claws, makin’ its feelings known in no uncertain terms. It writhes within me, uncoiling like a snake, testing the boundaries of its prison. I’ve never known it to be so single-minded in its intent, completely convincin’ me of its willingness to take me over an’ push my human psyche to the background in order to get what it wants.

An’ what it wants is Marie. It wants our mate.

I won’t let it happen. I won’t let the beast have her. She’s mine. The beast can howl all it wants – it can throw itself against the bars of its prison until it’s bruised an’ bloody – but I will not relinquish control. When I make love to Marie, it’s me that’s movin’ inside her. Me she’s caressin’ so tenderly an’ invitin’ to kiss her mouth.

Me.

The man.

Not the beast.

The man can be soft …….. can be gentle an’ lovin’. The beast would take her hard …… make her bleed …….. break her. I can’t let that happen. The man must remain in control. Always.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t torment the beast a little. Make it watch while I do all the things it would like to do itself.

An’ it howls now in desperation because it knows what I’m gonna do …….

Marie sighs in her sleep an’ I let my hand rove upwards, skimmin’ her silky skin until I reach the lower swell of her breast. My thumb caresses the gentle curve an’ she arches into my touch like a flower deprived o’ sunlight, mewlin’ a little as I begin to move my fingers in tiny circles, makin’ their way slowly towards that little nub o’ flesh that just aches for my attention. Dreamily, she pushes back into my chest, unconsciously opening herself up to my rovin’ hand, an’ I scoot over slightly, lettin’ her roll onto her back as I take her breast fully in the palm o’ my hand an’ squeeze gently.

She moans softly, her little pink tongue dartin’ out to moisten her lips, yet she is still asleep, her eyes tightly closed but flickerin’ slightly as her body responds automatically to my caresses. She is so in tune with me now that she reacts to the slightest o’ touches an’ I wonder if she is dreamin’ right now. Does she dream of me? Can she see herself as I see her – a vision of heavenly beauty on snowy white sheets, writhin’ sensuously under her dream lover’s hands? Does she reach for him an’ beg him to take her, to fill her completely an’ utterly with his love – to make her his?

God, what I wouldn’t give to be a telepath right now ……..

Lowerin’ myself down, I cover her breast with my mouth, teasin’ the nipple with my teeth, lathing it with my tongue until it forms into a tight little peak. Satisfied with my achievements, I let my hand rove downwards now, skimmin’ her soft curls, nudgin’ her compliant thighs apart to settle between her legs, my heart thumpin’ as Marie moans her arousal an’ grinds against my hand. A surge o’ wetness answers my questin’ fingers an’ I groan my own need as I feel my cock harden in response.

I can’t wait any longer. I move to position myself in the cradle of her thighs, sighing as I feel her body shape to mine, welcoming me home. The beast howls, egging me on, willin’ me to take her before she wakes. But I will not. That is the animal’s way. It is not mine.

I touch my lips to hers, kissin’ them gently as though for the very first time. Marie stirs beneath me, her eyelids flutterin’ as she opens them an’ gazes up at me, dreamily, still half asleep. Her hair is strewn across my pillow an’ I plunge my fingers deep into those silky tresses, windin’ it around one digit an’ flickin’ it under her nose. She laughs an’ screws her eyes shut as she tries to fight the sneeze that is buildin’, pushin’ my hand away with a squeal, an’ I kiss her again – briefly – chastely. An’ then her body lifts up to press against mine an’ she smiles, registerin’ the fact that I am hoverin’ above her, poised between her legs, waitin’ – hopin’ – for the permission to enter her an’ take what’s rightfully mine.

“Hey, Logan …….” Her voice is soft, silky with sleep, an’ I smile down at her, losin’ myself in the biggest pair of come-to-bed eyes I have ever seen.

“Hey, darlin’, I breathe in return. “This is your early mornin’ wake up call.”

“Oh, goody.” She wriggles against me, nudgin’ my cock an’ makin’ me hiss at the sensation of her slidin’ heat. “Ah’d hate to sleep over an’ miss all the fun.”

Darlin’, that’s exactly what I’ve been waitin’ to hear.

I push my hips forward, easin’ into her nice an’ slow. Marie gasps as I fill her, wrappin’ her legs around me an’ pullin’ me in deep, admittin’ me to her inner place with nothin’ short of unconditional trust.

Our love makin’ is slow an’ easy, as I strive to prove my devotion to her in the only way I know how. Once again, I am struck by the difference between this an’ our previous couplings. It’s as much about pleasurin’ the other as it is about fulfillin’ our own needs an’ desires an’, for once, my own preference for fast an’ rough sex is pushed behind me as I move slowly inside her, wantin’ to take her as high as possible before I tip her over the edge. We take our time, kissin’ an’ nippin’ at each others flesh as we move as one, pausin’ every now an’ then to simply enjoy the sensation o’ being joined an’ to touch each other, Marie’s hands rovin’ my body, explorin’ every inch o’ me as we slowly an’ inevitably move towards the anticipated climax.

When neither of us can hold back any longer – when our breath is comin’ in short, uneven gasps an’ our bodies are coated in a fine sheen – I raise myself up an’ begin to thrust, beggin’ her to join me, to come with me to that high place an’ never look back.

We both come at exactly the same time, our bodies shudderin’ in unison as our passion ignites, sendin’ us spirallin’ out of control. Totally spent, I collapse on top of her, keepin’ my weight on my elbows as my head spins with the intensity of our synchronised orgasm.

An’ as I slowly regain control o’ my senses, I nuzzle into her neck an’ breathe those three little words that I never thought I would hear myself say.

“I love you, Marie. God, I love you so much …….”

Marie fists her little hands into my hair, pullin’ my lips to hers so that she can kiss me. “Ah love you too, Logan …….”


oooOOOooo



It’s almost three in the afternoon when we finally emerge from my room an’ make our way to the kitchen to restock our energy levels. Strangely, our kitchen is never empty – no matter the time o’ day or night, it acts as a veritable X-Men magnet, pullin’ people towards its homely warmth, beggin’ us to partake of its well-stocked cupboards an’ friendly atmosphere – I swear it’s got a life of its own. This occasion is no different. Ororo an’ Scott are nursin’ steamin’ mugs o’ coffee at the table an’ Kitty is butterin’ muffins at the counter. There is a soft buzz o’ gentle conversation in the room, which stops the second Marie an’ me enter.

Scott suddenly becomes intensely interested in the contents of his mug, but ‘Ro beams at us warmly, an’ Kitty turns from the counter with a grin.

“There you both are! Geez, Rogue, we thought you were gonna stay holed up in Wolvie’s room all day!”

I growl at mention o’ that damn nickname – the blasted firecracker’s got a lot to answer for – but Marie places a calmin’ hand on my arm an’ blushes prettily. Kitty offers her a muffin which she accepts and moves to the table with it on a plate, pullin’ out a seat next to ‘Ro.

I help myself to a mug an’ move to the coffee maker, feelin’ Scott’s eyes on me all the way. “What time did you both get home last night?” he finally asks.

“I dunno.” I turn an’ lean against the counter, wrappin’ my fingers around the steamin’ mug. “Sometime around dawn, I think.”

“Logan won the cagefight!” Marie declares, proudly. “You should have been there, Storm! He was amazing!”

“Did you win a cup?” asks Kitty, pausin’ in the act o’ butterin’ another muffin to check me out intently.

I shake my head. “Nah, jus’ money. Enough to pay off the repairs to my bike, I should think.”

“Speaking of which, you had a phone call earlier, Logan.” ‘Ro looks at me over the top of her mug, those blue eyes o’ hers missin’ nothin’. “Someone by the name of Mike? He said your bike is ready to pick up.”

“Good.” I nod, an’ reach over to steal Kitty’s freshly buttered muffin, causin’ her to snort in annoyance an’ swipe at my thieving hand with the butter knife. “I’ll jus’ grab something to eat an’ head over an’ get it. You comin’, Rogue?”

“Sure.” Marie nods happily, lookin’ adorable with a smear o’ butter on her chin, but Scott shakes his head at her willingness to join me.

“Sorry, Rogue, but we need you here for the rest of the afternoon. The Professor says you’re overdue with your progress report into your control and Jean wants to run some tests.”

Marie looks crestfallen. “Can’t it wait?”

“No. I’m sorry. You did promise to keep working with the Professor when you finally gained your control ……..”

“Ah know, ah know ……..”

“…….. and the tests are imperative to ascertain whether you are experiencing any side effects to all the additional …….. contact.”

Scott glances at me as he says this an’ I can’t help raisin’ the obligatory eyebrow.

Marie looks up at me with heavy eyes. “Ah’m sorry, Logan. The tests are important. With all that’s happened lately, ah’ve been putting them off.”

I wave my hand, dismissively. “Hey, no problem, Rogue. It’s only gonna be a trip to the shop an’ back anyway. An’ I’ll have ya all to myself when I get back ……..”

Marie nods happily an’ blows me a kiss. “Lookin’ forward to it, sugah.”

Scott lets out a snort. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, you two, get a room!”

“We’ve got one, thanks. Which I intend to make full use of when I get back.” I shove the last o’ the muffin in my mouth an’ swallow almost without chewin’. “If I set off now I can be back in time for dinner.” I gulp the still scaldin’ hot coffee an’ reach around Kitty to place the mug on the drainer. “Nice muffin, by the way,” I add with a grin.

“Next time, butter your own,” she responds quickly, but her tone is light an’ there is a twinkle in her eye as she smiles back at me. Seems as though I’ve suddenly gained something of a fanbase.

I grab a set o’ keys from the motor pool, detour around the table to drop a farewell kiss onto the top o’ Marie’s head an’ head off to the garage. I’ve opted to take one o’ the mansion’s trucks – the open back will accommodate the bike nicely an’ save me from having to take a taxi to the auto shop.

I’m just about to drive off when I catch a voice callin’ me – the engine is runnin’ an’ I would have missed it if not for my enhanced hearin’.

“Wait! Hey, Wolvie, wait up!”

I stop an’ roll down the window, frownin’ when Jubilee pops her head in at the passenger side. “Whaddaya want, kid?”

Jubilee pops a pink bubble at me. “Roguey says you’re heading into town?”

I nod. “Yeah. So?”

“Can I beg a lift?”

“Look, kid, I’m not runnin’ a taxi service here ……..”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a grouch, Wolvie. Would it kill ya to drop me off at the drugstore? I’m gonna lighten Rahne’s hair tonight an’ I need to pick up some dye.”

I run a hand through my own hair, instantly doubtin’ Rahne’s sanity. “Are ya sure that’s wise?” Anyone with an ounce o’ sense wouldn’t let Jubilee anywhere near their crownin’ glory. Or anythin’ else, for that matter.

Jubilee takes my query as a ‘yes’ an’ hops into the truck beside me, poppin’ her gum as she plants her sneakered feet on the dashboard. I guess there’s no point in tryin’ to move her without resortin’ to some form o’ bloodshed an’ so I sigh in resignation, idling out o’ the garage an’ down the driveway, while Jubilee assures me that Rahne has wanted to lighten her hair for years but never had the courage to do so until now. I only hope the girl knows what she’s let herself in for.

Once on the main pull into town, Jubilee leans forward an’ begins to search the radio for something to listen to. I indulge her for a moment or two, in the vain hope that she might actually hit on something we can both enjoy, but when she nods in satisfaction an’ begins tappin’ her fingers to a god-awful din that sounds like six cats being strangled – badly – I lean forwards to turn it off.

“Hey! I like that song! What’s the matter with you?”

She reaches for the radio again, but I slap her hand away. “Leave it.”

Jubilee bounces back in her seat, grunting in annoyance. “What, you don’t like music?”

“I like music just fine, Jubilee, but that …….. whatever it was ………. didn’t even come close to being remotely called music. It was just noise.”

“Well, excuse me if we don’t all like Japanese arty stuff an’ country.” Jubilee folds her arms defiantly an’ glares across the cab at me.

“I don’t like country ……..”

“No? You strike me as a country kind o’ guy, Wolvie. Must be all the flannel an’ denim ……..”

I allow a growl to rumble in my chest, briefly entertainin’ the idea o’ guttin’ the kid an’ hidin’ the evidence in the trees somewhere. Bad Logan. Killin’ your girl’s best friend really isn’t the way to get into her bed tonight.

I make a valiant effort to be nice.

“Will ya stop callin’ me that damn name? Have some respect, will ya?”

“I like it, it’s cool! What’s the problem? Besides, you can’t be the bad-ass Wolverine all the time. There’s got to be a softer side to you in there somewhere, fighting to get out. No? Well, it was just a thought.”

“Look, how would you like it if I called you Whizz-bang or Fizz-bit all the time, huh?”

Jubilee shrugs. “Whatever floats your boat, I guess, Wolvie.”

I sigh an’ give up. The girl obviously has no sense o’ reason. I wonder if being annoying is just a natural ability on her part, or whether she has to work at it. You know, take lessons an’ pass a test, or something.

I turn my concentration to the road an’ idly keep a look out for a likely place to bury the body ……..

We drive in silence for a time. Traffic is light at this time o’ day an’ there are no major hold-ups, so we’re makin’ good time. At this rate, we’ll get there an’ back in no time at all.

Maybe I can talk Marie into some pre-dinner lovin’ ……..?

“Wolvie! Look out!!”

“What the ……..?”

The rocket comes outta the trees at the side o’ the road too fast for me to avoid, although I have a damn good try, to no avail. It hits on the front driver’s side, sendin’ us into a skid, which turns into a somersault as the tyres dig into the road. The world spins crazily around us as the truck careens helplessly across the road, takin’ me an’ Jubilee along for the ride.

There’s a crash as we hit the trees, the sound o’ splinterin’, an’ then sudden stillness. I open my eyes to find myself lyin’ on what was once the inner roof o’ the truck, Jubilee stretched out beside me, groanin’. It’s a miracle she wasn’t killed.

My first priority is to get us both out o’ the truck an’ to safety. Whoever fired that rocket can’t be far away an’ it was certainly no accident. This was a deliberate attack.

It looks like my carbonadium wieldin’ buddies are back ……..

Only now they’re armed with more than just bullets.

I pop the claws in my right hand an’ slice through the door on my side o’ the truck, kickin’ it free with a well placed boot. I crawl out o’ the wreck, then reach back in to drag Jubilee free. She groans as I give her a quick once-over – no broken bones, luckily, but she’s sportin’ one hell of a gash on her forehead an’ she’s semi-conscious, probably sufferin’ from concussion.

I gather her into my arms an’ make for the trees, just as I hear the whoosh o’ displaced air behind me an’ another rocket slams into the side o’ the truck. It explodes in a plume o’ fire an’ superheated metal, the blast knockin’ me off my feet as a wave o’ burnin’ heat flows over an’ around me. I can smell something smoulderin’ an’ with a jolt o’ sudden clarity I realise it’s me.

This isn’t good. I need to get Jubilee to safety. I struggle to my knees just as something sharp thunks into my back. There’s a single moment o’ numbing emptiness an’ then suddenly I am in a world o’ pain. My whole body feels as though it’s on fire – my nerves are screamin’ an’ my muscles spasm, an’ I can’t even cry out because my jaw is clenched tight. I topple forwards, landin’ over Jubilee, who groans as my weight presses into her. I try to move, but my muscles have seized an’ all I can do is shudder in agony as the drug I’ve obviously been shot with courses through my veins.

I am powerless to react as I hear the sound of approachin’ footsteps. Something pokes me in the back – the barrel of a gun? – an’ then I am flipped over onto my back, my eyes squeezin’ shut as the glare from the burnin’ truck assaults my senses.

An’ as I slowly fall into the black abyss of unconsciousness, I hear a chillingly familiar voice ………

“Well, well. Looks like we got two for the price o’ one ……..”

16. Circumstantial Evidence



Rogue:

Well, that was a complete waste of time ……..

So much for the Professor assessing my control. He’s gone out for the day – some charity do at the local orphanage that he’s patron of – and won’t be back for another couple of hours at least. By then, it’ll be time for dinner and after that …….. well, he usually spends his evenings meditating, reading or playing chess with Henry. My assessment will have to wait until tomorrow.

Dammit ……...

No go with Jean either. When I went down to the Med-lab, she was in the middle of some experiment that demanded constant supervision. Of course, ever the gentleman, Henry offered to run my tests but, not being familiar with my case, he really wouldn’t be much help, so I said thanks, but no thanks. And now I’m feeling pretty darn peeved as I ride the elevator back to the upper levels. If not for my wild goose chase, I coulda been with Logan right now, helping to pick up the bike. Of course, I say ‘helping’ but I really mean getting my hands on my guy’s delicious body again. God, I just can’t get enough of him. I know we’ve barely been out of each other’s company the past few days, but I need him around me like I need to breathe. I love the way he surrounds me and completes me, almost like an extension of myself. And if not for Scott and his stupid tests, we coulda been together right now – maybe getting to know each other better in the front seat of his truck.

Or the back seat – I’m not fussy. Just so long as I’m with Logan.

Damn Scott! You’d think with him being the leader of the blasted team he’d have some idea of where his people were and what they were doing – and if they were actually available for what he said they needed to do. It’s not asking a lot, is it? Y’know, if I had a suspicious nature, I’d swear he was trying to keep me and Logan apart.

Hey, wait a minute …….. Who said I didn’t have a suspicious nature? Because now that I think of it, Scott hasn’t exactly been Team Logan and Rogue’s chief cheerleader, has he? In fact, he’s been downright aggressive ever since we got together. Remember when we all thought Logan had died and I had to deck our fearless leader at the top of the stairs? I was pretty scared at the time – I thought I’d be thrown out for attacking a senior X-Man, but the Professor had been listening in and knew he deserved all he got. And possibly more.

Y’know, I never told Logan about that. He’ll get such a kick out of it. I must remember to enlighten him when he gets back.

And what about the time we went cage fighting? Didn’t Scott catch us in the hallway and tell me to let Logan go alone? Y’know, the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that Scott has been trying to keep us apart. Of course, it hasn’t worked up to now, but the thought of it actually makes my blood boil and, by the time I exit the elevator on the ground floor of the mansion proper, I have worked myself up into such a frenzy that I actually growl at a couple of trainees who have the audacity to smile at me before I remember to rein in my inner Logan. Oops! I’d actually forgotten he was still there, lurking behind the walls I’ve built to keep my inner voices silent. All the time I’ve spent with the real Logan lately seems to have appeased my ghostly feral somewhat and, apart from some faint stirrings of interest when we make out and some bawdy comments when Logan was in the cage, my Wolverine voice has been fairly quiet. Being with Logan calms me, which seems a strange way to describe a guy who seems to live on a permanent short fuse, but I don’t understand the ins and outs of it. I just call it the way it falls, and I definitely feel more at ease when I’m in his company. I think he feels it too. I’ve actually seen him smile once or twice, and there was a time when he would never have kissed me in public. But the crowd at the cage fight witnessed some serious lip action last night. I can still feel his hands on my back, pulling my body to his as he totally possessed me with his mouth. The memory alone threatens to make my toes curl.

He’s only been gone an hour or two and I already miss him. I miss his steady presence and the way he makes me just wanna melt into a puddle at his feet and worship the ground he walks on. God, ah’ve got it bad! Where has that shy and virginal runaway gone? The one who wilfully hitched a ride with a crazy haired mutant all those years ago? Was it really only three years ago? Well, she’s turned into a man-eater, that’s what happened. But there’s only one man for me. Only one man that will ever be able to satisfy me and make me whole.

God, when I think of all the things I’ve done with Logan – done to Logan – over the past few days, it makes me wanna blush right down to my toes and back up again. Dammit, but the man brings out the worst in me! Or is that the best? I really can’t tell, because one is just as good as the other. And once he gets that look in his eye, I just can’t refuse him anything. I’ve got to give my whole self to him …….. to his hands …….. his mouth ………

Dammit, now ah’ve gone an’ got myself all hot an’ horny for the guy! My inner Logan is purring happily in the back of my head – he sounds sated and sleepy, much like the real Logan after we’ve made love. Christ, ah’ve got a one track mind! Well, at least I’m not itching to kill something anymore! Scott doesn’t realise the lucky escape he’s had.

Lost in thought with nowhere to go, my meanderings take me past the rec room and I glance in on the off-chance there’s someone there who can help me pass the time until my lover returns home. Piotr and Kitty are playing pool – or rather, Piotr is playing and Kitty is admiring the way his muscles ripple under his tee as he lines up the shot. I think she’s got it bad for the big guy, but Piotr is so wrapped up in his own little world that he honestly doesn’t notice. He’s such a lug sometimes.

Remy is sitting in the window seat playing cards by his lonesome and he beckons me over to join him as he sees me lurking in the doorway, but it’s Bobby who manages to catch my eye. Sitting on the couch in front of the TV, he’s hooked up the X-Box and is currently engaged in a racing game. He challenges me to a duel race and, never one to pass up a challenge, I accept, dropping onto the couch beside him as Remy huffs in disappointment and returns to his solo card game. Bobby tosses me the spare handset while he reloads the game and then we’re off!

I lose all track of time as we race. One thing leads to another and first it’s best of three, then best of five and, pretty soon, all bets are off and we’re just concentrating on hammering each other into the ground. Bobby laughs at my ‘driving’ style, as I twist the handset when I ‘drive’ my car around corners, just as I would with a real steering wheel. It’s a hard habit to break and, annoyed with Bobby for laughing, I let my inner Logan out just for the hell of it and try my hardest to run him off the road.

It’s strange to think that this is the boy – the man – I would have given myself to some years back. Logan seemed to be pretty much unattainable back then, and he was yet to get over his Jean fixation, so I tried to form a steady relationship with someone who was clearly my own age. It didn’t work. Bobby quickly realised that I was still lusting after tall, dark and dangerous, and we broke up fairly soon after that. It was all very amicable. He made a play for Kitty and it seemed pretty serious for a while, but then Colossus came along and that was the end of that. Now Bobby’s on his own again. And me? I’ve got my dark eyed feral, just the way I wanted, but there’s no animosity between me and the Iceman. Bobby’s man enough to realise that he could never have held my interest once I set my sights on Logan and we’re now the best of friends.

Unless we’re racing, that it. Then it’s every man for himself.

Bobby manages to run his car into a tree just yards from the finishing line and I win the race in spectacular fashion, flinging my hands into the air to celebrate my victory. He snorts in annoyance and begins to load the next race as Remy gets up and moves over to stand behind the couch.

“Good t’ing you’re not playin’ for money, eh, chere? Else de Iceman be owing you more dan jus’ cash.” His eyes flash dangerously as he shuffles his cards in the air in front of him with an expert hand. “Why don’ you come play wit’ a real man? Remy don’ play for money.”

Oh yes, I know exactly what you’d play for, Remy LeBeau, and ah’m not interested.

I allow myself an easy grin. “Thanks, but no thanks, Remy. Ah owe Bobby a rematch.”

Remy’s lips pull down in a moue of disappointment, just at the phone rings out in the hall. For a moment, he looks as though he’s going to go and answer it, but then someone picks up and he turns back to me just as the next race starts. “Let Remy know if you ever change your mind, chere.”

“Okay, Remy, ah will. Thanks.” My mind is distracted by the race in progress and I am only vaguely aware that he wanders off back to the window seat, still shuffling his cards. Bobby is in the lead and there is a difficult corner to negotiate and I must get past him.

There is a sudden disturbance out in the hallway. Scott runs past, heading for the elevator, just seconds before Jean ducks her head in at the doorway.

“Colossus, we need you,” she snaps, prompting Piotr to toss down his pool cue and make for the door as Jean’s eyes rove across the rest of us as if weighing us up for whatever has necessitated the need for the team to mobilise. Her gaze rests for just a second on me before moving on to Bobby. “Iceman, suit up.”

“Jean, what’s wrong?” I stand, drawing her attention back to me, vaguely aware that my now driverless car has hurtled off the canyon road we were racing and has crashed in a spectacular fireball in the valley below. “Do you need me to suit up?”

“No, Rogue, I ……..” She looks strangely distracted and I toss my handset onto the couch as she shakes her head in denial. “I’ve got to go.”

She ducks out of the room, followed by Bobby, and I rush to the doorway just in time to catch Storm’s arm as she dashes past. “Storm, what’s going on?”

The weather witch shakes her head distractedly. “Your friend Mike just called. Logan never arrived at the autoshop. The Professor fears another attack.”

My hand flies to my mouth in shock, my eyes automatically flicking to the clock on the mantel which reads 06.32. I’ve lost all track of time! Logan’s been gone for three and a half hours – plenty of time to get to the autoshop and back. Oh god ……..

Storm pulls her arm from my suddenly rigid grasp. “We’re scrambling the jet, Rogue. If he is out there, we will find him and bring him back. I promise.”

She hurries off down the hallway to where Scott is marshalling his team at the elevator, sending them down to the lower levels as they arrive. My body feels frozen to the spot in shock, my blood running cold like ice. My head feels as though a thousand angry bees have taken up residence there, filling up my mind with their tortured buzz, the sound drowning out my inner voices …….

And then a single lucid thought breaks through the white static ……..

“Scott!”

The team leader holds the doors back just as they were about to close, stepping back out into the hallway. “What is it, Rogue? There isn’t time …….”

“It’s Jubilee, Scott.” My body is moving again, driven forward by pure adrenalin, fuelled by fear for my friend. I am wringing my hands together as I try to make Scott understand the awful truth. “Jubilee ……. she’s ……. she’s with Logan.”

Scott staggers under the force of my revelation, bracing himself with a hand on the wall. His face drains of all colour and his lips move soundlessly as he struggles to make sense of my words. “How the hell …….?” He shakes his head and pulls himself upright, determination evident in the set of his shoulders. “No time. We have to go.”

“Let me go with you.” I reach for him, plaintively, but he is already stepping back into the elevator, shaking his head. “No, Rogue. You’re too close to this.” And the doors close, shutting him off from me and whisking him down to the lower levels.

I stare at the door in front of me, foolishly willing them to open – for Scott to change his mind and come back to tell me to suit up. But they remain stubbornly closed and suddenly the awful truth comes crashing down into my mind – Logan and Jubilee are missing. They may be hurt – even dead – and it’s all my fault. It’s all my fault for not being with them.

My eyes fill with burning tears and suddenly I am running down the hallway, barely able to see where I am going through the panic that clouds my vision. I hear a voice calling for me – Kitty – but I can’t answer. My throat is tight – burning – and I choke back a sob as I push through the front door and race across the immaculate lawn, hurdling small bushes and planted borders that lay in my path. God knows where I am going – all I know is the need to run, to put some space between myself and the dreadful feeling of helplessness that I can’t outrun no matter how hard I try.

I reach the Japanese garden just as the jet rises up from behind the house and angles itself towards Salem Center, streaking forward with a roar of thunderous afterburners. And I drop to my knees right there, surrounded by the Japanese maples that Logan loves so much, crying silent tears and praying for my lover’s safe return – praying to anyone who will listen and asking for divine intervention.

Kitty finds me there, still on my knees, and helps me gently to my feet, giving me a tissue so that I can blow my nose and wipe my puffy eyes. She murmurs words of encouragement, trying to convince me that it’s too early to worry – that maybe Logan and Jubilee dropped off somewhere for a drink before picking up the bike and I try to believe that her words have the ring of truth about them. But inside I know they are false, because Logan would not have stopped off anywhere without calling to tell me first. Not when he was so looking forward to taking me back to his bed.

Somehow, Kitty manages to get me upstairs and into my room, where I stand in front of the window, watching for the jet’s return. Kitty stays with me, sitting on the bed and all the time telling me that everything will be alright. I wish I could believe her. I wish I could roll back time and stop Logan from setting out this afternoon. I wish we’d stayed in his bed. I wish ……. Oh, how I wish ……..!

Remy comes to see if I am alright, but Kitty shoo-es him away, telling him I’d rather be alone right now but thanking him for his concern. He leaves, but not before he places a rose in her hand, freshly picked from the garden, and asks her to give it to me. Kitty promises but, when he’s gone, she fetches a glass of water from the bathroom and places it and the rose on my bedside table. It looks so silly, hanging over the side of the glass, that I want to laugh and I realise I am no longer in control of my emotions and I want to whimper or break something …….. do anything other than stand here waiting for the jet to return. Why wouldn’t they let me go with them? My inner Logan breaks free, whispering vile threats against those who have caused me pain, and I curl my hands into fists, my knuckles itching to release claws that I do not have.

A jet! Ah hear the jet!

Kitty rushes to my side and together we scan the sky, seeking for the Blackbird and the first ray of hope. At first we see nothing and then the sleek machine streaks across the sky, flying just above the tree-line in stealth mode, seeking to avoid radar detection as it comes in to land, hopefully bearing a precious cargo.

Kitty and I turn as one and run for the hallway, taking the stairs two at a time as we hasten for the elevator. The doors are not as quick to open as I would like and I pound on them with a fist as we wait on them impatiently, shouting at them to hurry. And then they are open and we are in the elevator and being whisked downwards, my lips moving in a silent prayer, hoping to see Logan again alive and well, but all the time fearing the worst.

We are moving again the moment the lift stops, pushing through the gap in the doors almost before it is wide enough to let us through. The stark metal walls of the lower levels flash by as we race each other to the hanger, each hoping to be the first to shout good news to the other – each hoping to see Logan come swaggering out of the jet with a smirk on his face and his ever present cigar clamped between his teeth, and claiming to have such a story to tell.

And then we slide around a corner just in time to see a covered gurney being wheeled into the Med-lab between Jean and Scott ……..

We skid to a halt in front of the Med-lab doors just as they rumble closed before us. My chest heaving, I lean forwards and rest my head on the cool metal, unwilling to admit to myself what I’ve just seen.

Kitty is not so reluctant. “Was that …….. was that a body?”

I shake my head in denial. Because Logan can’t die. He’s proved it. He’s cheated death more times than I can count. He’s survived being shot with carbonadium bullets and autopsied, for Christ’s sake! And as long as Logan is alive, he would allow nothing to happen to Jubilee. I’m sure of it. Oh, he pretends to hate her and he threatens her with bodily violence at least twice a week, but deep down he cares for her – he cares for all of our trainees and would never allow anything to happen to any one of them as long as there was breath in his body.

As long as he still lived ……..

Oh please god ……..

I feel a moan well up in my throat as a dreadful weight settles on my heart. Kitty drapes her arm loosely around my shoulders, lending me her support as well as sharing my sorrow, both of us unwilling to believe what we have just seen, but equally unable to deny it. My hope becomes a mantra in my head that I keep repeating over and over. As long as I say it, there’s still a chance …….

He’s still alive ……. He’s still alive ……. He’s still ……..

We jump back as the Med-lab doors open, releasing Storm, who jerks slightly, surprised to see us there. She looks tired – worn – her face is smudged and there is a scorch mark in her usually pristine leather cape.

I reach out to grab her hand before she can walk away. “Storm! Is Logan okay? And Jubilee …….?”

She runs a hand across her face – there is dirt on her fingers and one immaculately painted nail is broken. “You can’t go in there, Rogue. Go to your room.”

“But Logan …….?”

She pulls away from my weakening grasp, beginning to move away. “Go to your room! We will tell you what has happened as soon as we have news for you.”

And she walks briskly away, her back straight and her arms held stiffly at her sides, but before she rounds the corner she doubles over as if in pain and we hear her take a shuddering breath.

Kitty looks at me, her eyes wide with fear. “What’s going on, Rogue?”

“Ah don’t know, but ah have to get in there.” The Med-lab is on lock-down – the doors will now only open from the inside. “Kitty, you have to phase us through the door.”

“No!” Kitty takes a step back. “Storm told us to keep out! We’ll get into trouble!”

She doesn’t fool me. It’s not the trouble she fears. She fears what we’ll find inside the lab.

But I have to know.

“Kitty, please ……..?” I hold out my hand, pleadingly. She knows I could take her power if I wanted to – I will take her power if she forces me to – but I need her to do this willingly.

She holds my gaze for a second or two. Then she nods and takes my hand and we walk forwards …….. and through the door.

The Med-lab lights have been dimmed slightly and, for a moment, hope flairs. They’ve obviously dimmed the lights to spare Logan’s eyes – he always finds the Med-lab too bright and the lights hurt him. I immediately see Jean, Scott and Henry gathered around an examination table at the far side of the lab and we creep forward, still hand in hand, reluctant to let each other go. Jean shifts slightly and something flashes in the dim light. Logan’s claws? Can’t he sheath them? Is that what’s wrong?

And then the three X-Men move away from the table to consult some readings scrolling across Henry’s computer screen, giving us a completely unhindered view of what’s lying on the table.

And I find myself staring at a complete and perfectly formed shiny metal skeleton ……

“Nooo!”

The scream leaves my throat before I even realise it’s formed and Jean jerks around, hurrying over to pull us both into her arms, shielding us from the body on the table. Scott flips a cloth over it, hiding the gory remains, but it’s too late, we’ve already seen and I wish to god I hadn’t.

Kitty is crying openly, clutching at Jean as though afraid to let go. “Jubilee?” she gasps, between sobs.

Jean shakes her head, sadly. “I’m sorry, Kitty. There was nothing left ……”

I begin to scream then, an awful high-pitched wailing that tears at my throat and makes my eyes burn. I struggle to get away from Jean – to get away from the thing on the table, because it’s not my Logan. It can’t be. But Jean is crying too and Henry has his head in his hands, and suddenly the awful truth comes crashing home.

I’ve just lost my lover and my best friend on the same day ……..

The room spins and the floor comes up to meet me as I lose my grip on reality. And right before I slip away into blessed oblivion, I hear the words Logan spoke to me this very morning – words that meant so much to me and made me the happiest girl alive.

I love you, Marie. God, I love you so much ……..

And somewhere, alone in the silence of the night, a wolverine howls at the moon ……..

17. Resurrecting the Weapon



*…….. Beep ……..*

“Okay, people, we’re gonna have just seconds to do this, so I want it by the numbers. If Weapon X’s healing factor is as good as they say it is, he’s gonna be coming outta the tranq any minute now. Crowe?”

“Sir!”

“Any signs yet?”

“Heartbeat’s real slow, but steady, Sir. He’s still under.”

*…….. Beep …….. *

“Good. Frost, you finished with those cuffs yet?”

“Last one going on now, Sir. His claws are locked up tighter than a virgin in a whorehouse.”

“You’d better be sure they are, Frost. Otherwise I’m putting you in the firing line if he breaks free.”

“Copy that, Sir.”

* …….. Bee-bip …….. *

“Sir! I’m getting positive readings! I think he’s coming out of it!”

“Oh god ……..”

“What’s the matter, Gorman? You afraid of one lone mutant?”

“You would be too, Sir, if you’d seen what he can do.”

“I have seen what he can do, Gorman. I was there the night he broke free and decimated half the base in his rampage to get out. Woulda killed me too, but I slipped on some blood in the retreat and the corpse of a soldier he’d just eviscerated and thrown landed on me. I owe that soldier my life. The scent of his dying body covered the scent of my live one.”

“Jesus …….”

* …….. Bee-bip …….. Bee-bip …….. *

“He’s definitely coming around, Sir!”

“Okay, places everybody! Hudson, where’s the god-damn carbonadium serum?”

“Here, Sir!”

* …… Bee-bip …… Bee-bip …… Bee-bip ……*

“I still don’t know why he has to be conscious for this stage of the procedure, Sir. He’s dangerous. We shouldn’t be taking unnecessary risks.”

“You know why he has to be conscious, Gorman. He has to know exactly what we’re doing to him and that we control him now. He has to know his life as an X-Man is over.”

* …. Bee-bip …. Bee-bip …. Bee-bip …. *

“Grrrr …… !”

“Sir! He’s ……..!”

“I have ears, Crowe, I can hear him! This is it! Asses and elbows, people! Asses and elbows!”


oooOOOooo



Where the hell am I ……..?

The last thing I remember, I …….. so hazy …….. the bike …….. Yeah, that’s it, I was goin’ to pick up the bike. There was an explosion …….. heat …….. pain …….. I was tranqed …….. a voice ……… Who ……..?

Jubilee …….. !

Christ, where is she …….. ?

I fight my way up through the last clingin’ veils o’ darkness, openin’ my eyes to …….. nothin’ ……..? The room around me is in blackout, but I can smell the unmistakable stink o’ chemicals an’ my body stiffens, the hackles on the back o’ my neck risin’. Nightmarish images flood, unbidden, into my mind an’ I bite back the snarl that forms on my lips, forcin’ myself to focus …….. to stay in control.

There are others here ……... I can smell ‘em in the darkness …….. hear ‘em movin’ around me, an’ I growl low in my throat, lettin’ ‘em know I’m awake an’ I’m pretty damn pissed off. If they wanna take me captive, fine, but they’d better be prepared to deal with the consequences.

I try to move, but somethin’ holds me down. What the hell ……..? I’m on my back, fastened to some sort o’ table. It feels smooth, like metal. There are restraints across my ankles an’ wrists – I can feel ‘em pressin’ into my skin when I strain against ‘em. Feels like there’s one across my waist too.

Christ, I can’t move! Panic once again flows over me an’ again I manage to fight it down, though my heart is poundin’ fit to burst. I struggle against the restraints, suddenly noticin’ that I’m bare to the waist. The stink o’ chemicals clings to my skin like a cancer. Jesus, what’s been done to me?

Without warnin’, the room is suddenly flooded with light an’ I twist my head to the side, squeezin’ my eyes shut against the glare that has dazzled them. I count to ten before crackin’ them open, instantly recognisin’ the stark surroundings of a lab an’ once again feelin’ the twinges o’ fear from the beast within. He’s prowlin’ the bars of his cage, snarlin’, lookin’ for a way out. He’s agitated – he don’t like being restrained like this. Can’t say as it appeals to me, either. The images it provokes are disturbin’ an’ I push them firmly from my mind. Gotta stay focused.

Once my eyes have adjusted to the light, I can see men stationed around the room. Some are seated at consoles, others are coverin’ me with weapons. All are grim faced an’ wearin’ camouflage fatigues.

Christ, what the hell have I stumbled into?

A man walks forward. He’s the only man standin’ who isn’t holdin’ some sort o’ weapon an’ I figure him for the guy in charge. He stops at the side o’ my table an’ stares down at me like I’m somethin’ interestin’ under a microscope an’ I stare right back, tryin’ to ignore the strange pricklin’ feelin’ at the back o’ my memory. There’s somethin’ familiar about this guy an’ I can’t quite put my finger on it ……..

An then he speaks, an’ his words send a sharp spike o’ fear straight to my heart ……..

“Hello, Weapon X.”

Years o’ surviving have taught me never to betray my emotions or intentions to the enemy, so my voice is steady as I force a reply. “Do I know you?”

The man inclines his head in thoughtful contemplation. “Possibly. Possibly not. Your mind was wiped so many times at the orders of the programme that I am surprised you can remember your own name.” He laughs suddenly, as though at a private joke. “Ah, but you can’t remember your name, can you, Weapon X? The man you know as ‘Logan’ is a myth – a fabrication – nothing more.”

“Who are you?” I growl between clenched teeth, tryin’ to ignore the icy touch o’ dread which is creepin’ over me.

“Who I am isn’t important right now.” He gestures to a man holdin’ a hypo an’ he walks towards me, the syringe with its unknown contents held before him like a weapon. I eye him warily as he moves around the table to stand on my left, awaitin’ further orders. “Our techs have already completed the first stage of your re-adjustment, Wolverine. This is the second. Your free life is over. You are ours now.”

“Like hell, bub,” I snarl, an’ pop the claws in my left hand.

Jesus Christ ……..! My left forearm spasms in burnin’ pain, the muscles clenchin’ around claws that refuse to move as I howl with the agony of it. I can hear the guy with the hypo yellin’ at me to retract, but like the stubborn bastard that I am I refuse to believe that this will help me an’ I strain ineffectually at the restraint, growlin’ like a madman. My arm feels like it’s being hacked off at the wrist an’ when he puts the hypo down beside me to knead the muscles in my forearm, I foolishly try to pop the claws in my right hand, believin’ myself to be under attack an’ trustin’ in the appearance o’ my blades to get me out o’ the danger. The resultin’ surge o’ pain drives the man under, and the beast seizes the opportunity to emerge ……..

* ... Bee-bip … Bee-bip … Bee-bip … Bee-bip …*

“Sir! We’re losing him! He’s going feral!”

“God-dammit! Jenson, get over here! Sedate him before he damages himself!”

“Sir!”

“Christ Almighty, that howling …….. Why the hell did he try to unsheathe the claws in his other hand when he’d already unsuccessfully tried his left?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Gorman. He’s an animal. They don’t think, they just act on instinct.”

“He couldn’t retract. I tried to help him, tried to massage and loosen the muscles, but he just went crazy.”

“Like I said, Frost, he’s an animal. And if I ever catch you touching him again without orders, I’ll shoot you myself. Got it?”

“Copy that, Sir.”

“Are we going to administer the carbonadium serum while he’s out, Sir? It’ll be a lot safer.”

“No. I still want him to know what we’re putting into him and why. Crowe, is he out yet?”

* …….. Beep …….. *

“Yes, Sir. Sleeping like a baby.”

“Good. Get him unshackled and put him in with the girl until he comes around. Maybe he’ll be a tad more compliant if he thinks her virginity is about to be threatened, if you take my meaning.”

“I do, Sir. Shall I tell Bonebreaker to be prepared? He owes Wolverine some payback and the girl is young – the way he likes them.”

“Yes, please do. Oh, and Gorman?”

“Sir?”

“Remind our mutual friend that the terms of our bargain are, as yet, still unfulfilled. He may have given us Wolverine, but he will not receive the reward until Weapon X has made his first kill for us.”

“Yes, Sir.”

* …….. Beee …….. *


oooOOOooo



“Wolvie? Hey, Wolvie, c’mon, wake up.”

“Wha ……..?” Oh god, not again. Why do I keep wakin’ up in strange places with the stink o’ chemicals around me? Why do people keep stickin’ needles in me?

“Wolvie? Hey, c’mon big guy, snap out of it, you’re creepin’ me out!”

Voice sounds familiar. Female. Young. Do I know her? Jesus, why do I feel so dizzy? Have I been hit by the Hulk again?

I force my eyes open, blinking through the milky blur to see a face hoverin’ above me. Unmistakably female, with a hint o’ white in the dark hair. She looks worried.

Wait a minute? White ……..?

“Marie? That you ……..?”

“Who the hell’s Marie? You two-timing Rogue, you hairy bastard? I oughta kick your metal ass from here to kingdom come ……..”

Jesus, I know that voice. I blink hard an’ shake my head an’ finally my vision clears to reveal my worst nightmare. “Hey, Jubilee,” I manage, somewhat shakily. God, my throat feels as though it’s been burned raw. “You okay, kid?”

She nods, carefully, an’ I notice she’s wearing a bloodstained dressin’ on her forehead. The flash o’ white made me think o’ Marie. At least our captors were kind enough to treat her wounds.

“How long have I been out?”

“Hours.” Jubilee sits back on her haunches an’ regards me, intently. “Our jailors aren’t too good on hospitality, I must say. They coulda dropped your heavy ass on the bed and saved me a whole heap o’ trouble, but no, they marched in, threw ya on the floor and left. I spent an hour tryin’ to get ya up and onto the bed before giving up and leaving ya there. So if you’ve got cramp, it ain’t my fault.”

“Thanks,” I croak.

“You’re welcome.” She leans over me an’ looks down at my face. “Ya wanna get up now?”

“Yeah.” She helps me up into a sittin’ position, where I sway slightly an’ put a hand to my head. Only I end up bashin’ myself in the face with somethin’ metal. “Ow! What the hell ……..?”

“Oh yeah,” says Jubilee, helpfully. “I forgot to warn you about those. I figure they’re to stop you from doing your thing. You know – grrr, slash!”

She makes a slicin’ motion with her fist an’ I give her a level glare before turnin’ back to study my hands. They’re encased in metal cuffs between wrist an’ first finger joint an’ look like metal mittens. There’s a hole for my thumb an’ a seam that runs down the back edge, so at least they’re meant to come off, although there’s no sign of a lock. The mechanism is probably electronic. They’ve obviously been designed with one purpose in mind an’ it’s equally as obvious that they’re the reason why I suffered so much pain earlier. Tryin’ to unsheathe claws that suddenly have no exit would cause my muscles to go into painful spasm.

Jubilee is eyeing the cuffs with great interest. “It’s going to be real interesting going to the …….. ah ……..” She jerks a thumb behind her to the toilet I can see at the back of our cell. “And don’t even think about ……..” She makes an up an’ down movement with her hand.

“Christ, Jubilee!” I push away from her an’ stagger to my feet, swayin’ a moment as I get my bearings.

“Well, I’m just saying, so don’t even think of asking for my help, that’s all.” Jubilee gets up an’ moves huffily to the single cot bed set against the wall an’ throws herself down onto it.

With only the tips o’ my fingers protrudin’ from the cuffs, I don’t even wanna think about how right she might be. I file the problem for later contemplation.

Now that I’m on my feet, I turn an’ survey our surroundings. Four metal walls with a single barred door – check. One cot against the side wall – check. Toilet an’ small handbasin on rear wall – check. An’ that’s it. Not much in the way o’ luxury, unless you count the scratchy lookin’ blanket on the cot. Oh, an’ the toilet has a partition screenin’ it off from the rest o’ the cell. It looks hastily erected an’ I figure it’s been put there for Jubilee’s benefit. Looks like our captors have at least some sense o’ decency.

A flashin’ light up near the ceiling draws my attention to the camera that’s obviously monitoring our movements. An idea begins to form in my head.

“Jubilee, you used your powers since being put in here?”

The firecracker shakes her head. “No. Dr Grey always warns us not to use our powers when we’ve had a bang on the head in case we do more damage. An’ I was too dizzy to try.”

“That’s good.”

“Good? That I’ve been hit on the head? Gee, Wolvie, you’re so caring. I really see why Rogue digs you so much.”

I stifle an annoyed growl. “No, Fizz-bang, I mean it’s good that you haven’t used your powers. We’re being watched, an’ the less our captors know about you, the better.”

“Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so?” Jubilee folds her arms, defiantly. “An’ if you’re gonna insult my powers with an amusing nickname, you could at least be consistent. I believe the terms you used were ‘Whizz-bang’ and ‘Fizz-bit’. Not Fizz-bang.”

This time I allow the growl to surface an’ she slumps back onto the bed with a snort. Of all the flamin’ people I coulda been captured with, it hadda be Jubilee. Why not Kitty, for Chrissakes? She at least feeds me chicken. I’d even settle for the Iceprick. But Jubilee …….?

Someone up there must really hate me.

Giving her a final glare, I turn back to the camera …….. an’ at this point, with my nose in the air, I suddenly notice somethin’ else.

“Can you smell anythin’?” I ask.

“Is this a trick question?”

“No. Just answer me, god-dammit.”

Jubilee takes an experimental sniff. “No. Should I?”

“I don’t know.” There’s definitely somethin’ in the air, but it’s faint an’ elusive an’ I can’t put my finger on it. Is it somethin’ I should be worried about? Without knowin’ what it is, I dunno.

“Interesting scent, is it not?” The voice at the door startles me an’ I spin around to see the guy from the lab standin’ at the bars. Jesus! I didn’t even hear him approach. I must be more out of it than I thought.

“It’s a neural suppressant,” he continues, conversationally, as the cell door opens an’ he steps inside, flanked by two guards with weapons. I back off, puttin’ myself between Jubilee – who is now standin’ warily against the wall – an’ any potential threat. “It’s designed to suppress any hostile tendencies and keep a subject docile. It is specifically keyed to your unique physiology, Wolverine, although I am told it will also affect other mutants to a lesser degree. So if you are a mutant, my dear ….” this to Jubilee, “I am afraid it’s ……” He draws his finger across his throat.

Jubilee squeaks in alarm. “I’m dead?”

“No, my dear, I mean that your mutant abilities will be severely muted, if not negated completely. But you will be quite safe here until we can figure out what to do with you. Of course, I use the word ‘safe’ in its broadest sense.”

“What the hell do you want, buster?” Jubilee obviously doesn’t take well to bein’ threatened.

“Want? We’ve got what we wanted, young lady, and that was Weapon X. Nothing more, nothing less.” He looks back to me an’ I grunt in reply. “You still don’t remember me, do you? And yet, you should. I played a huge role in helping you become what you are now.”

“I’m an X-Man,” I remind him, forcefully.

“Yet once you were intended to be a weapon for hire, Wolverine. I was your handler then, a man by the name of Steven Roberts, although you probably didn’t know that at the time. I was good at my job. I intend be so again.”

The snarl that distorts my features is brutal and intended to intimidate. My memories o’ my treatment at the hands o’ the Weapon X project are hazy at best, but they surface most often in my nightmares and they always remember my ‘handlers’ – vicious men who took delight in causin’ pain an’ misery just for the sake of it. Apparently, machine gunnin’ me half to death an’ then leavin’ me to heal in a pool o’ my own blood was considered an evening’s entertainment.

“We’ve gone to a lot of trouble to reacquire you, Wolverine. The reasons for this do not concern you at this time. However, before you can be sent into the field, there are still one or two adjustments that have to be made to your attitude.”

My blood runs cold at the words, nightmarish images o’ helmets an’ power packs an’ nameless machines flowin’ like insidious snakes into my mind. I drop into a fightin’ crouch, my hands raisin’ before me. I can’t pop my claws, but I can still use my fists. “Ya can ferget all about the re-adjustin’, bub,” I growl, roughly. “Ya ain’t gettin’ yer hands on me again.”

“Really?” Roberts folds his arms an’ looks back at me, calmly. “Have you forgotten waking up in our lab so soon? Stage one of your re-adjustment has already been made. Maybe you would care to investigate the back of your neck?”

“My neck ……..?” I reluctantly reach back, the tips o’ my fingers encounterin’ a round metal surface just below my hairline. It seems to have been embedded into the skin. “What the hell …….?”

“The port’s function will become clear at a later date.” Roberts smiles, but there is no mirth or warmth in it – just pure malice. “And in case you are wondering why your healing factor hasn’t rejected it, it has been keyed to your own genetic code. Your body thinks it’s simply an extension of itself. As for the whys and wherefores of that, allow me to re-introduce you to an old acquaintance of yours, Wolverine.”

Roberts steps back, as another larger figure enters the cell – one I instantly recognise. “Bonebreaker,” I snarl.

“Glad to see you remember me, Wolverine.” The ‘cage fighter’ grins at me, flexin’ his fingers, a ring on one hand immediately drawin’ my attention. He waggles it at me. “Remember this, too?”

“You cut me ……..” My fingers go unconsciously to my cheek, recalling the cut the ring inflicted there – the words that had provoked me to attack him in defence o’ Marie. “My god ……..” It all comes crashin’ home. The threat to Marie’s safety was a lie – a deliberate ruse to get me to drop my guard an’ lose control so that he could cut me an’ sample my DNA.

“I see it’s finally beginning to register just how much planning has gone into re-acquiring you, Wolverine.” Roberts is now standin’ beside Bonebreaker, flanked by his two guards. “You are ours now, and we don’t intend for you to forget it.”

“If you think the X-Men are going to just stand by and let you kidnap one of the team without them doing something about it, mister, then you’re hugely mistaken.” Jubilee stalks forward, her eyes flashing angrily. I try to push her back behind me, but she’s obviously reached the end of her patience and adrenalin is beginning to kick in, stealin’ away some of her fear. “The X-Men will track us down and rescue us, and then you’ll all be very sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Roberts shakes his head, lookin’ so obviously pleased with himself that my fingers itch to wipe that self-satisfied smirk right off his face, “You see, my dear, we planted evidence in your truck to make your team-mates believe that Wolverine was still in it when it blew. Right now, they think that he and, by extension, yourself, are very much dead. There will be no rescue.”

Jubilee heaves a startled gasp. Welcome to my world, kid. An’ then Roberts gestures one of his men forward. “Enough chit chat. Let’s proceed with the re-adjustment, shall we?”

As one of the guards steps forward, all hell breaks lose. My claws are useless, but the cuffs on my hands make fairly good weapons in themselves an’ I deck the guard with one blow. I am already springin’ for the next before Roberts realises what’s happened. I hear Jubilee shriek as I knock his weapon away an’ tackle him to the ground, but I daren’t look around – I have to stay focused if I’m gonna get us both outta here in one piece.

Two more guards rush in from the hallway an’ I haul the semi-conscious guard to his feet just in time to see Roberts backhand Jubilee across the face, sendin’ her tumblin’ to the cot. Bonebreaker is on her like a rash, pinnin’ the strugglin’ girl down as he laughs an’ paws at her body.

“Let her go!” I yell, wrappin’ my arm around the neck o’ the guard I’m holdin’ an’ backin’ us up against the wall. The two new guys are now coverin’ me with their weapons, creatin’ somethin’ of a Mexican stand off. “I swear I’ll break his neck! Let her go!”

Roberts shrugs, indifferently. “So kill him. My guards will tranq you, Frost will administer the second stage of the procedure and Bonebreaker will still get to have his fun.”

Jubilee screams an’ I glance across, horrified, to see Bonebreaker yankin’ at the girl’s jeans, exposin’ her panties. Panicked, she flings out her hands to release her fireworks, producin’ only a couple of half-hearted sparks an’ fizzles. Laughing, Bonebreaker catches her small hands in his, holdin’ her down as he opens his fly an’ pulls out his engorged shaft.

Jubilee’s terrified whimpers prompt me into action.

Howlin’, I hurl the guard I am holdin’ into one o’ those coverin’ me. They both go down in a tangle o’ limbs. The second actually gets off a shot – I hear somethin’ sizzle past my ear – but then my metal fist lays him out cold next to the flailin’ bodies of his companions an’ I am leapin’ for Bonebreaker before he even hits the floor. But then I hear the sharp retort of a firearm bein’ fired an’ the next thing I know I am writhin’ in agony on the floor as what feels like a million volts o’ electricity courses through my body.

Roberts moves calmly to stand over me, oblivious to the groans of his men who are strugglin’ to their feet, and to the frightened sobbin’ o’ Jubilee. “That was only a taste of what our pulse rifles can do, Wolverine. Your body is rather susceptible to electric shock, thanks to your metal skeleton so, if you’d rather not find out just how much damage your healing factor can withstand, I suggest you stand down.”

I groan an’ roll over onto my back, every movement a battle as my body screams out in agony. I’ve fallen just shy o’ the cot an’ I look up to see Bonebreaker leerin’ down at me. He’s still holdin’ Jubilee down, one foot on the floor, the opposite knee keepin’ her legs spread for him as he strokes his cock in anticipation, oblivious to her frantic whimpers.

“I was hoping we could do this in a far more amicable fashion, Wolverine, but I’m afraid you have left me no choice.” Roberts places a booted foot on my outstretched wrist, grindin’ it into the floor as he speaks. It’s a purely callous gesture – I am in no condition to fight further an’ he knows it – he’s simply provin’ his dominance over me. “You can allow Frost to inject you with our serum and end this in a civilised way. Or you can refuse – we will then tranq you, inject you anyway and Bonebreaker will rape your friend. What is it to be, Wolverine?”

“What’s my guarantee that you won’t let Bonebreaker rape her anyway?” I force out, through clenched teeth.

Roberts considers this a moment. “No guarantee whatsoever, actually. You’ll just have to trust me.”

I don’t like the terms, but what other choice do I have? “Do it,” I growl.

Roberts nods at Frost, who approaches with the hypo an’ kneels down beside me. I flinch as he presses it to my neck, sendin’ the contents coursin’ into my veins. “What’s in it?” I ask, not really expectin’ an answer.

“It’s actually a ……..” Frost begins, but is cut off by Roberts, who nudges him with his foot. Frost gets to his feet an’ backs away.

“The contents of the serum do not concern you at this point in time, Wolverine. However, all will become clear when we administer the third and final stage of your treatment. So, until then ……..” He gestures at Bonebreaker, who slowly, an’ with some reluctance, releases Jubilee. She immediately throws herself off the cot an’ out of his reach, retreatin’ to the rear of the cell as far as she can go, where she adjusts her clothin’ with heavin’ sobs.

Bonebreaker takes his time puttin’ himself away an’ all the while I am vowing to make him pay.

Their mission complete, Roberts and his men file out of the cell, one of his guards hangin’ back to cover me and Jubilee until everyone has exited safely. As the cell door closes, Roberts hesitates in front o’ the bars. “By the way, Wolverine, I will see to it that your dosage of suppressant is increased. The current level obviously isn’t sufficient to keep you docile.”

“Yeah, you do that,” I growl back, as he walks away.

As silence returns to the cell, I remain on my back, breathin’ heavily with my exertions. My neck itches where I was injected. I wish I knew what was in the stuff – it can’t be good – but for now, I got other priorities. Jubilee is still whimperin’ at the back of the cell, but when I begin to struggle to my knees she rushes over an’ all but throws herself into my arms, knockin’ me back slightly.

“Oh god, Wolverine, I thought …….. I thought ……..”

“Shh, darlin’, it’s all over now.” I pull her to me, wrappin’ her in the protection o’ my arms, whisperin’ soothin’ nonsense as she sobs into my chest. Truth is, I don’t think it is all over, but I can hardly tell her that. The lie, however, seems to do her some good an’ eventually she quietens, allowin’ me to hitch back against the cot. When I try to stand up, she stiffens an’ clings to me tightly, so I make myself as comfortable as I can an’ just hold her, lettin’ my presence an’ warmth comfort her. The scent o’ the suppressant shifts as we rest, growin’ stronger, makin’ me sleepy, an’ I’m hardly aware as we fall into a light sleep for a time.

A noise outside the cell jerks me awake, rousin’ Jubilee, who stirs against me sleepily. Seein’ me starin’ at the cell door, her eyes widen in alarm, an’ she tries to pull away, but it’s not Roberts. As messed up as my senses are, I have his scent an’ I know it’s not him out in the hallway. I put a finger to my lips to reassure her, just as a throaty chuckle reaches my ears an’ a shadow falls across the doorway.

An’ then he speaks, an’ it’s the voice I heard out on the roadway, still achingly familiar an’ loaded with malice.

“Hello, Jimmy. Remember me ……?”

18. Deadly Poison



“Who the hell are you?” I’m gettin’ royally pissed off with all this ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’ shit an’ my voice comes out as a rough snarl. Jubilee flinches at my side, but draws back slightly, as if sensin’ that I may have to act quickly.

The stranger at the cell door chuckles, throatily. “Oh come on, Jimmy! I’m hurt! You’re actually tellin’ me you don’t remember your own brother?”

“Bullshit!” I’m on my feet in an instant, although the sudden movement makes my head swim slightly. I shake my head agitatedly, tryin’ to clear the effects o’ the suppressant as I raise my hands to unsheathe my claws, rememberin’ the cuffs just in time to save myself from a world o’ hurt. Stalkin’ forward, I swipe a cuff across the bars o’ the door, sendin’ sparks flyin’. “I ain’t got a brother!”

“Are you sure o’ that, Jimmy?” If the stranger is intimidated by my pathetic show o’ defiance, he doesn’t betray it. His lips draw back in a grin that reveals canines slightly longer than my own. “They really did a number on your head, didn’t they?”

“That’s none o’ your god-damn business!” His words cut deep an’ he knows it. If there’s one thing I truly know about myself, it’s that I suffered more pain at the hands o’ the original Weapon X project than I could ever imagine. They ran barbaric experiments on me – sent me out to kill time after time. Constant mind-wipes kept me compliant. I can’t even trust the memories I do have o’ that time – false implants were often uploaded to see how I’d react to the stimuli. My mind is a turbulent fucked up mess.

An’ Jeannie wonders why I don’t like telepaths pokin’ around in there.

A soft hand suddenly slides around my waist an’ I realise I am standin’ with my head bowed as I let the fractured images o’ my past wash over me. Jubilee, obviously sensin’ my discomfort, has moved to my side an’ now it’s her turn to lend me support as she fixes the stranger with a curious stare.

“Why do you keep calling him Jimmy? His name’s Logan.”

The stranger’s dark eyes slide to her arm restin’ comfortably around my waist an’ I am seized with an inexplicable desire to protect. The guy is dangerous – I don’t need my senses to know that – an’ somethin’ about Jubilee has obviously sparked his interest. The growl that starts way down in my chest an’ rapidly gains volume to set my whole body vibratin’ with the power of it prompts the stranger to smile coldly an’ Jubilee to step away from me with a startled gasp. I regret scarin’ the kid, but somethin’ about the stranger’s calculatin’ attitude sets me on edge an’ has my hackles risin’.

Without showin’ the slightest bit o’ interest in my obvious efforts to provoke, his focus switches to Jubilee. “Are you his mate?” he asks, casually, pointin’ first to her an’ then to me.

The unexpected question cuts me off mid-growl an’ Jubilee’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? No! I …….. eww!”

“I didn’t think so. I can’t smell him on you – not in that sense, anyway.” He takes a long slow sniff of the air. “Still a virgin too. No wonder you had Bonebreaker so turned on.”

Jubilee makes a choked sound an’ I reach out to pull her to my side as the glaringly obvious suddenly hits me between the eyes. “You’re feral,” I accuse.

The stranger laughs, clickin’ his fingers in the air. “Bingo! Did you work that out all by yourself, Jimmy?” He holds up his hand for me to see an’ his finger nails suddenly lengthen into wicked lookin’ talons. They’re formidable weapons. A sudden flash o’ those talons whippin’ across my face – buryin’ themselves into my shoulder – forces a gasp o’ surprise from my lips, but the image is gone before I can focus on it. If he notices, the stranger gives no sign, merely lowerin’ his hand an’ lettin’ the talons retract. I follow the movement with my eyes until he snorts an’ draws my gaze back up to his face. “Y’know, Wade told me you were a shadow of the man you once were, but I didn’t believe him. I thought there’d be something left of you in there, but it’s gone, hasn’t it, Jimmy? Really gone. Such a shame. We made a helluva team, you an’ me.”

“Wolvie, what’s going on?” Jubilee shifts uneasily against me an’ the feral once again transfers his attention back to her.

“Your team-mate can’t remember jackshit about his life, girlie,” he spits, ruthlessly. “That’s what’s going on. An’ the irony of all is that I hold all of it, right here.” He lifts up his hand, palm uppermost. “I could tell him everything he’s ever wanted to know – his name, where he comes from – everything! An’ all he’s gotta do is ask.”

He looks back to me, one eyebrow raisin’, but I shake my head. Somethin’s tellin’ me I can’t trust this guy. “I won’t ask,” I growl in return.

The stranger smiles. “Didn’t think you would. You always were a stubborn bastard, Jimmy. So what about you, missy?” Jubilee squeaks as once again she becomes the center o’ attention. “Wanna know the truth? Tell you what, you tell me your name an’ I’ll tell you mine.”

“Don’t,” I whisper, but I can see she is intrigued by what the stranger is offerin’ her. I wince as she gives her name willingly an’ the feral smiles. “Well, hello there, Jubilee. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Victor Creed.”

…….. A gunshot …….. a body lyin’ in a pool o’ blood …….. a flash o’ bone-white claw ……..

The images are quick an’ fleetin’ but they leave me reelin’ in their wake. Victor tosses me a knowin’ glance, speakin’ to Jubilee but keepin’ his attention focused on me. “I was born in the late 1800’s, in Alberta, Canada. My father, a feral, had an affair with the wife of his soon to be late employer, one John Howlett. You….,” he pokes a finger at me through the bars “ …. are supposedly his youngest son. Your name is James Howlett an’ you’re my little brother. My half brother actually, but I figure that’s just being picky.”

“Jesus ……..” I stagger back in shock, my mind unable to cope with the life-changin’ information that’s just been revealed so casually. After all these years o’ tryin’ to piece my life together – all the searchin’, the agony an’ the heartache – an’ all it took was one guy from my past to unlock it all.

Victor leans casually against the cell door, watchin’ me struggle with the realisation that he holds the key to restorin’ my memories in the palm o’ his hands. “I gotta go now. Duty calls an’ all that. But that’s just a taster o’ what I could tell you, Jimmy. If you wanna know more, you know what you have to do.” He pushes away from the door, blowin’ a kiss to Jubilee. “Bye, sweetie.”

“Wait.” I thrust out a hand, pleadingly, drawin’ him back to the door, where he eyes me, cautiously. “Just one thing, Victor. Were we …….. were we close?”

Victor draws his lips back in a snarl. “Hardly.” He turns to walk away. “I was your worst enemy.”


oooOOOooo


After Victor leaves, I become withdrawn, hunchin’ into a corner to mull over the information he has given me. My mind refuses to assimilate the fact that I am over one hundred years old – all I can think about is the possibility that I could live for at least another five hundred years before I even start to show any signs o’ aging. An’ then I wonder about Marie an’ what this could mean for our relationship an’ once I start down that road I realise there is no guarantee I’ll ever even see her again. The original Weapon X project held me for months the last time they got their hooks into me – as near as I’ve been able to ascertain, I only managed to escape because someone got careless. I don’t think they’ll be so accomodatin’ a second time. So, unless a miracle happens an’ the X-Men find us, me an’ Jubilee are pretty much screwed. I don’t know what evidence they planted in the truck to make ‘em think we’re dead, but out only hope is for ‘em to see through it an’ come after us – an’ quick before whatever they’re gonna do to re-condition me becomes irreversible. O’ course, no amount o’ re-conditionin’ will ever be able to bury my desire to be free. It was this desire that saved me the last time an’ I know that whatever they do to me, I’ll never stop lookin’ for the way out – for a way to escape my oppressors.

Frost makes an appearance with some food on a tray a couple o’ hours later – nothin’ fancy, jus’ some potatoes an’ some stringy meat – but it’s hours since I ate an’ I attack the food with a gusto that surprises me. Jubilee picks at her potatoes for a while an’ then shoves her plate towards me to finish off. I leave the potatoes but take the meat.

Frost also leaves my jacket an’ shirt, which were presumably removed when they inserted this metal doo-hickey into my neck. I still don’t know what it’s for – Roberts called it a ‘port’ – but whatever it is I figure it’s nothin’ good. Jubilee says it looks as though somethin’ plugs into it an’ if that ain’t the stuff o’ nightmares, I don’t know what is. It suggests that my head is about to be messed with again, an’ that sets the beast howlin’ in its cage. I’m tempted to let it free the next time Roberts an’ his cronies come waltzin’ into the cell an’ see how they like that – claws or no claws, the beast is a dirty fighter when he’s pissed an’ he’ll give ‘em a run for their money before they can take him down. Unfortunately, the one thing stoppin’ me from actually doin’ this is the beast’s total inability to tell friend from foe. When I go feral, everyone is a target – Jubilee wouldn’t stand a chance against me without her powers. So if I let the beast free, I gotta make sure she’s not in the firin’ line first. Either that, or let him free only when it’s a no-win situation. If Jubilee’s gonna die, I’d rather it be at my hands, not theirs.

At least, my way will be quick.

My jacket has been divested of everything that could be remotely useful – my cell phone, my bike keys, even my cigars an’ matches have gone. But deep in one o’ the outer pockets, I find a screwed up slip o’ paper with Sheryl’s phone number written on it in neat figuring. I stare at it for a moment, then return it to the pocket, treasurin’ the little piece o’ freedom.

I shrug into my shirt after eating an’ return to my corner. Jubilee makes a half-hearted attempt to draw me into conversation, but my mind is occupied elsewhere an’ after receivin’ only grunts for her efforts, she gets the hint an’ lays down on the cot, where she falls into a fitful doze. I feel bad for cold-shoulderin’ the kid, but I got a lot to think about – not the least of which is whether to ask Victor for more information about my past or not. He says he’s my enemy – was this always the case or did somethin’ happen in our past to set brother against brother? Do I even wanna know? I’m not entirely sure I trust him – he’s a mutant an’ a feral, yet he walks around the place freely. Is he in league with our captors? Is he the reason I’m here?

So many fuckin’ questions. Not enough answers.

I’m not surprised when I begin to feel a headache buildin’ at the back o’ my skull, but whether this is because o’ all the soul searchin’ or the effects o’ the suppressant, I ain’t sure. I suspect the latter though, on account o’ me not bein’ prone to headaches. Healin’ factor an’ all that, y’know.

When the lights go out in our cell, I figure it’s our captors’ not so subtle way o’ tellin’ us to get some sleep. Jubilee rouses as I roll up my jacket an’ place it on the floor next to the cot, askin’ me if I want the bed. Such a lady. An’ ever the gentleman, I refuse. I can protect her better if I sleep on the floor anyway. They’ll have to step on me to get to her – providin’ I don’t hear ‘em comin’ into the cell in the first place, o’ course – an’ then they’ll have three hundred pounds o’ angry Wolverine to deal with.

The light is still on in the hallway, providin’ just enough illumination to cast the cell in a soft glow. I lay on my back for a time, starin’ at the red light on the camera, wonderin’ if they’re watchin’ us right now. They’d be lousy guards if they weren’t. Bad things always happen at night.

I actually figure on stayin’ awake all night an’ watchin’ over Jubilee, but the suppressant I’ve been breathin’ for hours has a calmin’ effect an’ I finally fall into a light doze ……..

…….. Paving the way for the serum I was injected with earlier to make its presence known ………

I awake with a jolt, feelin’ disoriented an’ dizzy an’ knowin’ instantly that somethin’ is wrong. As I roll onto my side, my stomach cramps painfully an’ I groan at the unfamiliar feelin’, cuttin’ it off quickly with a bite to my lower lip, afraid to wake Jubilee. I can feel a cold sweat breakin’ out all over my body, the pricklin’ sensation puttin’ me in mind of ants crawlin’ all over me. I lay still for a moment, willin’ the feelin’ to pass an’ idly wonderin’ if the meat I was given was bad or poisoned in any way. Bad meat, maybe, but they’d hardly go to all the trouble o’ gettin’ their hands on me only to put poison in my food. I’d be a fool to suspect that – an’ I ain’t no fool. It’s gotta be the serum.

An’ then I feel an unpleasant burnin’ sensation in my throat an’ I bolt for the toilet ……..

Jubilee wakes up just as the remains o’ my last meal makes a sudden an’ rather unexpected reappearance. Rubbin’ the sleep from her eyes, she staggers to my side, attracted by my feeble retchin’, an’ recoilin’ in shock at the sight o’ me kneelin’ in front o’ the toilet.

“Geez, Wolvie, are you ……..? Christ, you’re sick! I didn’t think you got sick.”

“I don’t,” I croak back, shakily. Even with most o’ my life a mystery to me, I don’t ever remember bein’ sick before an’ the sensation is not a pleasant one. I groan as another spasm cramps my stomach an’ hurl up some half digested meat. “Oh god ……”

Jubilee crouches at my side, placin’ her hand on my forehead. Her fingers are cool to my heated skin. “Christ, Wolvie, you’re burning up! What’s wrong with you?”

“Serum,” I reply. My voice is weak an’ I am shakin’ like a leaf in the wind. As I heave again, Jubilee rubs my back, offerin’ comfort in the only way she knows how. I’m actually surprised she’s still with me – the firecracker has never struck me as the most sensitive member o’ the team – the night she an’ Kitty snuck into my room to leave a sandwich lends testament to that.

Maybe our current situation an’ her recent brush with rape has forced her to grow up quickly.

Jubilee looks around anxiously as I heave again. “I don’t know what to do, Wolvie. Tell me how to help you.”

“Jus’ leave me here.” She’s removed her hand from my head an’ I slump down until my forehead is restin’ against the cold porcelain of the toilet seat. “I’ll be okay.”

“Like hell I will! I’m not leavin’ you curled up on the floor in front of the toilet! What kind of a heartless idiot do you take me for?” She stands an’ hooks her hands around my arm, forcin’ a groan past my lips. “Get up!”

I try to resist, but somehow she forces me to my feet, pausin’ only for me to heave into the hand basin on the way up. Jubilee runs the tap, lettin’ the water clean out the basin, an’ then leaves me to rinse out my mouth while she flushes the toilet. I am left with a strangely metallic taste in my mouth, but I don’t know if it’s caused by the water or my condition.

“Come on.” She drapes my arm across her shoulders an’ slips her own arm around my waist, staggerin’ a little under my weight as she leads me to the cot. “You do realise that Rogue would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you, don’t you? She loves your sorry ass, although how she puts up with all your grumping an’ growling is beyond me. You must be something else in the sack, that’s all I can say. Now, you just lie there an’ I’ll see if I can find something to cool your head with.”

She eases me down to the cot, but when she tries to cover me with the blanket I push it off. “Hot,” I complain.

“But you’re shivering,” she insists. “Oh god, Wolvie, I don’t know how to deal with this. Your skin is burning up, yet you’ve got the shakes.” She’s right – I’m shiverin’ so hard my teeth are chatterin’. She suddenly jumps up, wavin’ her arms in front o’ the camera. “Hey! Hey, I need help here! Wolvie’s sick!”

“Leave it, Jubilee,” I gasp, my voice barely audible.

“But that stuff’s killing you!” she protests, droppin’ back down to her knees beside the cot. “They have to know.”

“They know,” I argue, feebly. “They have somethin’ planned for me, Fizzbit. I’m no use to ‘em dead.”

“I’m sure that’s a whole heap o’ comfort right now.” Jubilee looks around frantically, then grabs my jacket, huntin’ through the pockets for anythin’ useful an’ finally tossin’ it aside in frustration when she comes up empty. With a grunt she gets to her feet an’ stalks into our ‘bathroom’. I hear a tap runnin’ an’ she returns with a wad o’ wet folded up toilet paper, which she places on my forehead. It feels blessedly cool to my heated skin.

Jubilee frets a moment with my blanket – she keeps tuckin’ it around me an’ I keep pushin’ it away. “There’s nothing in this blasted cell to help us, Wolvie. It’s almost as though they want you to suffer, dammit.”

I turn my head slowly to fix her with an intense if slightly shaky stare. “That’s the whole point, Jubilee. I think that’s part o’ their plan ……..”


oooOOOooo


It’s at least another four hours before Roberts an’ his men make another house call. In the intervening time, I have got progressively worse, to the point where I am now driftin’ in an’ out o’ consciousness. Jubilee has had to help me to our bathroom on three more occasions – the last time I didn’t make it an’ threw up all over the floor at the foot o’ the cot. I felt bad for the kid as she eased me back down to rest, but she cleaned up the mess without complaint, using most o’ the toilet paper. She’s rapidly changin’ my opinion o’ her – I used to think she was an annoying nuisance, good for nothin’ except bein’ a good friend to Marie, but a joker who wouldn’t amount to much. Seems I was wrong. I’m not sayin’ she’s conquered her fears an’ come out punchin’ – she’s still scared an’ frankly, so am I – but she’s holdin’ her own an’ I’m proud o’ the kid for that.

Frost is the first into the cell. Seems he’s their appointed medic – or my medic, at least. Jubilee is sittin’ on the edge o’ the cot beside me an’ she refuses to move as he crouches by her side an’ places a hand on my forehead. I’m barely conscious at this point an’ I groan weakly as he thumbs back an eyelid to check my responses.

“Are you gonna help him?” Jubilee demands, as Frost rocks back on his haunches an’ looks towards the doorway, obviously awaitin’ his commandin’ officer. “He’s never been sick like this before. You’ve gotta do something.”

Frost turns to study her anxious face, his own expression strangely showin’ his sadness at havin’ to be the bearer o’ bad news. “I’m not going to make him better, honey. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Jubilee begins to splutter in confusion an’ indignation as Roberts an’ two guards march into the cell. Frost gets to his feet an’ pulls the kid up with him, draggin’ her away from the cot an’ me. She protests an’ tries to fight him, but he’s a big guy an’ Jubilee barely makes five foot four in her sneakers. He’s firm, but surprisingly gentle as he backs against the wall, holdin’ Jubilee in place with an arm about her waist as she struggles to get back to me.

The commotion rouses me slightly an’ I blink muzzily as Roberts steps up to the cot an’ stares down at me. “Status report, Frost.”

“Everything progressing according to schedule, Sir. Wolverine’s healing factor has shut down and he’s in the first stages of adamantium poisoning.”

Jubilee gasps at this an’ stills, twistin’ slightly to stare at Frost in horror. The soldier shrugs in return.

My eyes track Roberts as he leans down to study me closely. “Excellent. Weapon X, do you know what is about to happen to you now?”

I have a pretty good idea, but whatever it is I ain’t gonna meet it lyin’ on this cot like an invalid. I groan an’ roll to my side, intendin’ to get to my feet an’ face my fate like a man, but the action brings on another stomach cramp an’ Roberts is too slow to react as I hurl all over his highly polished combat boots.

“Animal!” As I flop back, weakly, Roberts grabs the pulse rifle from one of his guards an’ levels it at me, aiming right between the eyes. Bracin’ myself for the pain that I know is about to be unleashed on my vulnerable body, I hear Jubilee scream in horror as I stare right back into Roberts steely eyes, an’ I know I ain’t gonna give him the satisfaction o’ dying.

I’ll survive this if it kills me ……..

An’ then Frost is suddenly between me an’ the rifle, fingers tentatively nudgin’ the business end in another direction. “No, Sir, you can’t. With his healing factor down, he’ll never survive the shock. Please, Sir. He’s not in control of his actions right now.”

A silent battle o’ wills ensues as Jubilee takes advantage o’ the distraction to return to my side once more. She silently takes my cuffed an’ clammy hand in hers an’ grips my fingers tightly, her eyes leavin’ mine only to glance anxiously up at the tableau takin’ place before us. Roberts obviously aches to punish me for the affront, but common sense finally prevails – like I said before, I’m no good to him dead – an’ he thrusts the rifle roughly back into the hands of its owner.

“Fine. I will refrain from punishing the beast this time, Frost, but only because he is too valuable to risk killing him at this stage. But if you ever confront me in front of my men again, or if your pet ever humiliates me, I promise you I will personally have you whipped and give you to Victor for his sport. Do you understand me?”

“Copy that, Sir.”

So, ‘pet’, huh? Guess that makes Frost my handler.

Roberts elbows the man aside an’ steps closer, his face red with barely restrained anger. I figure it’s crunch time an’ I feel Jubilee’s hand tighten on mine.

“You have been injected with a carbonadium serum, Weapon X. Liquid metal.” Oh Christ, no wonder I feel so sick. “By now, it will have spread throughout your system, completely shutting down your healing factor. The effects you are feeling now are due to adamantium poisoning. Your own skeleton is killing you.”

“I know ……” I manage to grunt out. Yeah, I’ve felt this before. On occasion, some nut or other has managed to negate the healin’ factor an’ I’ve experienced some discomfort until said nut has been dealt with, but it’s never got this far before. The metal coverin’ my bones constantly leaks poisons into my system which my healin’ factor normally deals with on a daily basis. With it shut down, I know the effects are only gonna get worse.

Until I die.

An’ with the healin’ factor down, there’ll be no comin’ back this time.

“Without an antidote, Weapon X, you will die.” Roberts confirms my fears with a sneer.

“Yeah, an’ I suppose you just happen to have the antidote handy, don’t ya?” Jubilee tosses Roberts a hate-filled glare. “You people disgust me.”

“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what we do have.” Roberts chooses to ignore the kid’s insult an’ snaps his fingers. Another guard enters, carryin’ a metal case, which he hands to Frost. He opens it an’ removes another hypospray.

“This is amalgium-H, Weapon X.” Roberts indicates the hypo with a mirthless smile. “It functions by fusing with the c-serum and thereby rendering it inert, thus allowing your healing factor to function. It also inhibits your free will, thus making you compliant and easier to control. However, its effects only last for eight hours, after which time the c-serum will once again take over your system and shut down your healing factor. If you have not received a further dose of the aH-serum before twelve hours have elapsed, you will have reached early stages of adamantium poisoning, as you are now. Twenty four hours later, you will be comatose. After forty-eight hours have elapsed, you will be dead.”

Jubilee is aghast. “You can’t inject him with that! It’s …….. it’s inhuman!”

Roberts cocks his head. “Your point being?” He rocks back slightly, foldin’ his arms. “Mutants are not human, my dear. Weapon X even less so. He’s an animal, nothing more and, as such, ours to use the same way I would harness a horse or train a dog to sniff out explosives. So, let me ask you this. Would you rather we leave him to die?”

“No, but ……..”

“Weapon X still has a choice, my dear. Once the aH-serum has been administered and he has been sent out on his first mission, he can chose not to come back to us and die, presumably under a hedge somewhere, like the animal he is. However, fortune has smiled on us and sent us you – an unexpected bonus. So I think he will come back to us, time after time. He will allow us to use him again and again, because he knows I will give you to Bonebreaker if he does not.”

Jubilee gasps and from somewhere deep inside I manage to summon the strength to raise myself up to one elbow. “Go ahead,” I growl. “Use your god-damn serum. Send me out on yer missions. But I promise ya this, Roberts. One day, ya’ll drop yer guard or the serum will fail. An’ I’ll be waitin’. Either way, I’ll be free. An’ I’ll hunt ya down like the bastard ya are an’ I’ll take yer god-damn head off. You an’ anyone else who stands in my way.”

“Fair enough.” Roberts gestures an’ Frost steps forward, pressin’ the hypo to my neck. His eyes are almost apologetic as he sends the contents coursin’ into my veins an’ I file this information away for future reference. Of all the guards, he seems the most sympathetic an’ any ally in this place, even one o’ the enemy, is better than no ally at all.

He steps back as I sink back down to the cot with a weary sigh. Jubilee reaches out to touch my face gently, an’ I smile back at her in encouragement. I will live, because I’m gonna find a way to get us both outta here. Whatever it takes – whatever I have to do – I’ll do it. We’re gonna survive.

An’ for that to happen, Logan will have to die. I need to be stronger now, for both of us. I need to call on those reserves hidden deep within me – I need to release the beast.

Logan is dead.

Weapon X lives again ……..