help me/you tear down my reason/help me/it's your sex i can smell/help me/you bring me comfort/help me think i'm somebody else
Thursday, 0800 hours.
"Status report."
Baker looked up from the monitor, nodded in recognition, and held out the customary clipboard with its neatly-written pages of notes. "Good morning, sir. Things are going well - the buck's been awake since oh-six hundred, and the doe's still in the examination room. Her testing should be nearly--"
"Complete," Dr. Risman finished for him, striding in with an armful of reports. "And may I say, it hasn't been easy, without the sedatives."
Stryker snatched the papers from her and began rifling through them. "All in the name of science, Doctor. We need her fully functioning and aware, if Wolverine's going to react to the serum the way I think he will."
She folded her arms and regarded him coolly. "You're really going to start with the serum?"
He waved a dismissive hand, as if brushing away her annoying question. "Of course. We can't let things progress naturally, Doctor, or we'll never get anywhere. The buyers are already beating down our doors for a product, and we haven't even gone ahead with Phase One yet."
Risman's frown deepened. "Sir... I discovered something during the doe's last examination that may... complicate things."
Stryker's eyes calmly scanned the pages in front of him, unconcerned. "Oh?"
"Sir, her..." She sighed. "Her hymen is intact."
He looked up in surprise. "She's a virgin?"
"Yes. Probably due to the nature of her mutation. And if you're going to use the serum... She could be - how can I put it delicately? - damaged in the process of carrying out the procedure. What then?"
Stryker's eyebrows went up. "Well. This is unexpected. However, I don't really think it's cause for concern."
"Why not?"
"The Alpha serum will reduce Wolverine to his most basic animal state - feral and uncivilized, unfettered by the human disguise he thinks he has in place."
"My point exactly. The combination of adrenaline and testosterone alone would be enough to drive him into a frenzy, in high enough doses, but the addition of the other chemicals, plus the sildenafil citrate, he's going to..."
"He's going to want to mate, Doctor, which is what we want. And as uncooperative as both of them have been, the serum may well be our best plan of recourse."
Risman threw up her hands in frustration. "The girl's never been touched, and you're going to lock her in a room with a wild animal that's been pumped full of adrenaline and male hormones?"
Stryker looked back down at the reports, unruffled by the woman's outburst. "And we're going to go ahead with the pheromone treatment, as well."
Her mouth fell open in astonishment. "Tell me that was a joke."
He fixed her with a cool stare and handed the papers back. "I want her thoroughly doused and prepped and ready to go by oh-nine hundred hours, Doctor, and that's an order."
Risman glared at him for another several seconds, then turned on her heel and stalked out.
***************************
"Hold him!"
"Get yer fuckin' hands offa me!!"
"Where the hell are those chains!?"
"Shit! Watch the claws!"
"I've got him!"
"Let go o' me! You fuckin'-- gah!"
"What the hell are you doing!? Stryker said--"
"He said no sedatives - didn't say anything about a gun-butt to the head."
"Grrrrrrrrr....."
"Jesus! You're gonna get us killed, you idiot!"
"Get those goddamn chains on!"
"AHHHHH! Fuck! My arm, he sliced my arm!!"
"Gimme that gun!"
Darkness.
***************************
Rogue was hauled unceremoniously from her cell and brought to a small, tightly-enclosed room with a round drain in the floor; for a minute, she thought they were going to give her a shower or something, but she didn't see any nozzles. After the lady doctor had poked and prodded her the last time, exploring areas Rogue really hadn't wanted her to go poking around in, she felt rather tired and violated; she had no idea what they were planning, but a shower would've been a nice gesture, considering how dirty and depressed she was feeling.
Several little doors in the walls - up high, close to the ceiling - opened up, and small metallic pointy things that resembled the tips on a baker's decorative icing bag slid out; there was a whirring noise, and Rogue flattened herself into a corner. Were they going to gas her? Had she failed whatever test they'd been putting her through? She was terrified, and when the spray started to pour out, she shrieked and held her arms up to protect her face. But the clear liquid simply ran over her, not burning or stinging or killing or anything, other than being damn cold. She shivered and folded her arms across her chest; her thin white cotton gown was completely drenched and clung to her, making her self-conscious and chilly. The nozzle things retreated, and after a few moments, the wall opposite the door she came in folded in on itself like a set of elevator doors and swept aside - revealing Logan's big metal cell.
He was nude and apparently unconscious, lying facedown on the reflective metal floor; heavy steel chains, each one about two feet long, ran from the metal bands around his neck and wrists to ring-plates set into the floor tiles, and at that distance, Rogue couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.
"Logan!" She ran to him and knelt beside his shoulder. "Logan! Can you hear me?"
***************************
Shouting. Someone was shouting.
And something... smelled good.
Wolverine opened his eyes, looked up at the attractive face above him, inhaled... and lunged.
Rogue screamed and stumbled backwards; she certainly hadn't expected that, but then, she hadn't expected to be hauled out of her bed by a bunch of soldiers and made into a super-secret mutant lab animal, either. "Logan! It's me! Oh God, what'd they do to you?"
Wolverine growled low in his chest, the smell of her driving him mad with want; he felt powerful and alive and randy as hell, and right there - how convenient! - was a beautiful female, radiating mating scent like the heat from a burning building. Oh, but he wanted her, and she was so lovely, with her bell-like voice and her soaking-wet cotton gown - through which he could clearly see the blush of her hard nipples, the soft curve of her breasts, the shadow of her pubic hair... Ohhh, he wanted her, and he was going to have her, if it was the last thing he ever did.
He lunged for her again, straining at the chains, growling; she backed off still more, eyes huge, luscious mouth hanging open. "Oh, Logan, no," she whispered, her long fingers fluttering nervously in front of her throat. "God, Ah wish they'd just gassed me... Ah can't believe they're gonna make you kill me..."
He strained harder, muscles trembling, teeth bared, and still she remained just out of reach. He couldn't understand it - there she was, wearing a little wet scrap of cloth that accentuated everything she had, looking right at him, her sex bare and easily accessed, and the scent - oh God, the scent! She obviously wanted to mate, and yet... underneath the powerful pheromones that were overwhelming his olfactory nerves, he caught a whiff of fear.
Fear?
What the hell?
He struggled to break the chains, to get closer to her, to investigate the cause of her distress, to comfort her... and she backed off still more, until she was pressed up against the wall, about three feet from the limit of his tether. He was totally confused - what was she afraid of? Didn't she realize that nothing in the world would harm her as long as he was there? He tried to think; it wasn't easy, considering the four hundred cc's of Alpha serum racing through his system, plus the overpowering lure of mating scent hanging in the air like loud curtains and making it nearly impossible to reason - but dammit, he was trying.
First order of business - the goddamn chains. They had to go. He hated being confined, especially when it was keeping him from something he wanted.
And there was nothing he wanted more than her.
***************************
"I really must protest this," Dr. Risman said, glaring at the monitor. "He's going to figure out how to get out of those chains any minute, and she's going to fight him."
Stryker chuckled. "You worry too much. She'll be fine."
"How can you be so blase about it? He's already half-mad with lust as it is - another few minutes, he'll be uncontrollably violent." Risman's mouth hardened into a thin line. "Sir. If the buck forces her to mate, she could be badly injured. The damage could take weeks to heal, putting us way behind schedule."
Stryker sighed. "If the serum works properly, she couldn't be safer."
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "How's that?"
"To put it bluntly, my dear, rape doesn't exist in the animal kingdom - that's a purely human invention. If he has indeed regressed to the feral animalistic state we want, he'll most likely encourage her - albeit aggressively - to mate, and if she refuses, he'll either try harder, or wait it out until she concedes."
"What if she never allows him to mate with her?"
Stryker's cold gray eyes snapped fire and ice. "Then we'll terminate her and get another specimen." He turned to Baker. "Time since he regained consciousness?"
"Four minutes, fifteen seconds, sir."
"Good. We're ahead of schedule already."
***************************
"God, Logan, you're scarin' the bejeezus outta me... Please, please calm down, Ah..."
He extended his claws with a sudden snikt and sliced through the chains that bound him to the floor; she screamed and leapt to her feet, backing towards the opposite corner as fast as she could. Freed, he stood and advanced on her, growling... and that's when she noticed his erection.
"Oh, mah.... Logan! Logan, no!"
He kept right on coming, heedless of the terror in her voice, and backed her right into a corner; having finally trapped her in one place, he smiled, showing his sharp teeth, and strode purposefully toward her, claws glinting under the flourescent lighting.
Oh, dear God in Heaven, not like this. Not Logan. Not like this. Without her powers, she didn't think she could do any kind of damage to him - nothing that would put him off course, anyway - and if that hard-on and that look in his gleaming, feral eyes were any indication... he was going to be very difficult to reason with. Still, deep down inside, he was still Logan, and surely he wouldn't...
He came within a few paces of her, and the aggressive, territorial growl rumbling out of his chest got louder.
Rogue threw out both of her hands, shoving at him with everything she had, and screamed, "NO!"
To her surprise, he stumbled back a few feet - and stayed there, a puzzled look on his face.
"Logan," she said, hoping he could understand her, "Ah know this isn't you. Ya gotta listen to me, sugah - it's Marie. You understand me?"
He didn't, but he got the gist of what she was saying - she wasn't ready to mate. Her body language - not to mention that awful shout and the push - made that clear. But why? He was in excellent health, reasonably attractive, and had already proven his strength and cleverness by escaping his bonds. And if it was his virility or ability to perform she was worried about - well, all she had to do was look down. Which she already had, so that couldn't be it either. What. The hell.
She stood there, shaking, staring into those keen brown eyes, wondering what on earth she was going to do. She was trapped in an adamantium cell with a feral Logan - a horny feral Logan - and she was completely at a loss. She noticed his gaze flickering down over her breasts, clearly visible through the wet cotton gown, and folded her arms across her chest. "Hey! Eyes up here!"
He growled. He liked looking at her, dammit, and she was stopping him from doing it? Fucking hell. Apparently, she was not only unconvinced of his worthy mate status, but also a bit of a tease - because although she smelled like fear, she was still giving off that delectable come-hither scent that made him harder with every passing second. Which was becoming somewhat painful, now that he thought of it.
All right, fine. If she needed convincing, he could do that.
He held up his arms, brandishing his sharp claws, and bared his teeth; bending forward a bit, he struck the most fearsome pose he could possibly manage, flexing all his muscles until the corded tendons stood out, displaying his strength and power. She froze, eyes huge, and curled in on herself a little tighter, which was gratifying until he caught the sharp scent of her fear, rising and thickening like smoke. Okay, wrong approach. Maybe it wasn't power she was looking for in a mate...?
He got down on the floor and moved slowly toward her, claws still out, the weight of his upper body balanced on his fingertips. It took an incredible amount of control and grace to do such a thing without letting the sharp blades touch the floor, which he was quite proud of; but she apparently wasn't impressed, because not only did the fear scent not dissipate, it actually got stronger. This was bad - he didn't know what the hell her problem could be, and he was running out of ideas. But there she stood, that head-swimmingly powerful mating aroma rolling off of her, and not even the tiniest whiff of arousal. What the hell did she want from him?
Irritated and seething with frustration, Wolverine retracted his claws to give his hands a rest - and the fear scent lightened a bit. He cocked his head and regarded her curiously; okay, so the claws were frightening to her - he could keep them sheathed. Problem solved. He started to get up, vaguely aware that she was saying something. He didn't get much of it, just the shaky tone and the fact that she had uncurled a bit. He growled softly and approached - and got another fierce shove. Shit! He snarled angrily and snikt, there were the claws again, and he was really annoyed.
"Logan, you gotta stop this! This ain't you! Ah don't wanna hurt you, sugah, but so help me God, Ah ain't gonna let you do what Ah know you're thinkin' about doin', so y'all can just put that away!" She was bluffing, but yelling at him seemed to get through, so she was determined to try anything that might work. She had thought that when he'd retracted his claws, he was coming back to himself... but then he'd stood up and started walking towards her, and neither his erection nor that hungry look in his eyes had gone away. So she'd pushed him, and now she was back to square one, with an angry, lusty-eyed Wolverine threatening her, claws out.
Okay, he had to breathe. Think. Couldn't breathe too deep, she smelled too good, and that undermined his whole plan. He retracted the claws again, and sat back on his haunches to think, licking the blood from his knuckles. Hmmm. That was nice. Too bad it was his own. Taste of sweat, too - was he sweating? He hadn't noticed. He found himself wondering what her sweat might taste like, and every hair on his body stood up. Mmmm. He could picture it, salty and hot, blood racing under her skin, her body slick and smooth beneath him... Shit. He had to figure this out.
***************************
"Time since he regained consciousness?"
"Ten minutes, fifty-three seconds, sir."
Stryker huffed. "She's as stubborn as he is. Increase the temperature again. Not too much - we want them nice and warm, not uncomfortably hot."
Dr. Risman scribbled a few notes on her clipboard. "Exactly what is the purpose of turning the heat up? It's just going to make them sweat."
"Exactly," he replied, smiling. "You've never wondered why a hot, sweaty day is called 'sultry', Doctor? Why steamy showers are considered erotic? It's a basic animal response - heat produces arousal, as long as it's a comfortable heat." He leaned across Baker and pressed a button on the control panel, making the image on the monitor zoom in closer. "And look at him, sweating already."
He smiled at Wolverine, who was covered in a light sheen of sweat and licking his knuckles. "It won't be long now."
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
WARNINGS: This series contains a Feral!Logan/Rogue pairing, along with several scenes of lab-rat type experimentation. Be warned, this could be disturbing to some.
LAME DISCLAIMER: Not mine, blah blah, put the lawsuit down, Marvel.
FEEDBACK: I'll roll over and purr and look cute.
A/N: This started out as a PWP based on NIN's "Closer" - and then it had to go and develop a flamin' plot, and then... well, it's big now. I kept the title, though, because it works.
LAME DISCLAIMER: Not mine, blah blah, put the lawsuit down, Marvel.
FEEDBACK: I'll roll over and purr and look cute.
A/N: This started out as a PWP based on NIN's "Closer" - and then it had to go and develop a flamin' plot, and then... well, it's big now. I kept the title, though, because it works.