In hindsight, it was easy for Marie to admit that she had overreacted when Logan had told her the condom had been torn.
To her credit though, it had only been her second time and she’d only been de-virginised less than 12 hours prior. She had the right to freak out if there was a chance that she would wind up pregnant when she’d only just started having sex. After she’d calmed down and found a more appropriate outfit to wear to college she’d remembered that there were things like birth control and the morning after pill.
Birth control had never been something she’d considered; after all, she’d thought she’d have poisonous skin forever, what chance would there ever be for sex? She’d really only thought to buy condoms that night things with Logan had taken a more intimate turn. Despite the fact he’d stopped before anything could happen, she found herself thinking she should be prepared, just in case.
She’d used her computer lab at college to search for information on the morning after pill and in the end had decided that she couldn’t. She felt like it was a violation of a woman’s body.
Her hand drifted to her stomach and she rubbed it. She was finding it hard to coalesce her thoughts even after two weeks of thinking about it. She was finding too many parallels between her taking the cure, and her options for the current dilemma, making her less sure of herself.
She’d taken the cure, readily renouncing her mutant genes, but she was finding that the thought of terminating any life growing inside her with a tablet sickening.
And there she was, getting ahead of herself again. She didn’t actually know she was pregnant, not yet.
Again her hand rubbed her flat stomach.
She had to admit though, despite her many vocal contradictions to the contrary that day, if she was indeed pregnant, the thought of carrying Logan’s baby wasn’t off-putting in any way. In fact, a small part of her was openly embracing the idea. She’d loved the man since they’d first met. She hadn’t always been in love with him, but she’d certainly loved him.
She shifted her head so that she could observe him. He was leaning back against the wall next to her bathroom, cigar tucked in the corner of his mouth. His eyes locked onto hers and that ever-expressive eyebrow raised. She gave him a small smile, turning her attention back to the ceiling.
Marie didn’t know if he loved her. She knew that there was something between them, and that it was enough to keep him coming back, keep him in New York.
And it was enough to keep him calm in the face of Marie’s headless chicken act. She wondered whether there wasn’t a part of him too that liked the idea of a little Logan, or a little Marie.
Now she placed both hands on her stomach, trying to imagine what it would be like, growing something inside her.
She broke out into a grin. A month after taking the cure here she was, de-virginised and wondering whether she was pregnant. She bit her lip to hold back the hysterical giggle rising inside her. She couldn’t help it; it was kind of funny.
She’d spent years lamenting the loss of human touch, and with one injection she’d got that back. And now she had Logan too.
Marie frowned. Would she have had Logan if she hadn’t taken the cure? Her momentary happiness dissipated, replaced by doubt. He never would have had reason to give her a lift because she’d never have had this apartment. And they sure as hell would never have been able to get all naked and sweaty. Her fingers touched her lips. And there never would have been that first delicious kiss.
“Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?”
She turned her head. Logan had moved off the wall and was making his way to the sofa. She lifted her legs to let him sit down. His hands rubbed her shins when she placed them on top of his thighs.
She didn’t feel like holding her head up awkwardly, so she lay back down, her eyes returning to the ceiling. “Do you think we still would have…” she struggled to find a way of putting it, “hooked up if I hadn’t taken the cure?”
Logan let out a low, rumbling laugh. “I don’t ‘hook-up’ with anyone, darlin’.”
Marie hit him with the heel of her foot. “I’m trying to be serious.”
She heard him exhale, the scent of his cigar filling her nostrils.
“You want to know if I’d have still fucked you if you were untouchable?”
“Yes.”
There was a long pause before Logan spoke. “Killer skin would never have stopped me, Marie.”
She shifted, propping herself up on her elbows so she could look up at him. “Really?”
Logan nodded, taking a drag on his cigar. “Really.”
Marie tilted her head. “So what—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish the question. The air was broken by the sound of an alarm going off.
Logan looked at her. “It’s time.”
Marie nodded, swinging her legs around and getting to her feet. “At least you didn’t throw the oven against the wall to stop it.”
The smile she gave him didn’t reach her eyes, but he chuckled anyway. She walked into the bathroom, closing her eyes as she stood in front of the vanity. Her fingers blindly searched before clasping around a thin plastic stick. She heard Logan’s footsteps over the sound of her heart thundering in her ears.
“Here goes nothing.” She didn’t know whether she was talking to herself, or Logan.
She opened her eyes, first looking at her reflection, and then regarded Logan in the doorway before her gaze dropped to the pregnancy test. The breath she’d been holding came out in a hiss.
She looked at Logan who had his arms folded over his chest. “I’m not pregnant.”
He gave her a curt nod, pushing off the doorjamb and enveloping her in a tight embrace.
Marie buried her face in his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist. “I’m not pregnant.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Jenn for the beta work.