Thursday, 1533 hours.
"Status report." Stryker strolled into the observation room, coffee cup in hand, Dr. Risman following behind.
Baker looked up from the monitor, eyes a little glassy, and handed over his clipboard. "The procedure's going along very well, sir. The subjects haven't stopped for more than ten minutes at a time since they began."
Stryker set aside his cup to flip through the notes. "How many times have they mated?"
"Five completed copulations, and three, uh... incomplete." He swallowed, eyes drifting back to the monitor.
Stryker looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Incomplete?"
Baker cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, sir. Uh... she, the doe, uh... she... stimulated the buck. Twice. Without mating properly. Once orally, once manually." He was praying he wasn't turning red; he did not add that he'd had to do a little manual stimulation on himself while watching the doe do likewise to the enthusiastic buck - he'd had to, or he'd have gone nuts. Five and a half hours of watching the two mutants mate was doing one hell of a number on his libido. He was half tempted to go down the hall and grab Innana, the pretty brunette lab tech, haul her into a supply closet, and fuck her right there, just to get it out of his system. "And, uh, they're currently mating again, haven't finished."
Risman came over, sipping her latte, peering over Baker's shoulder at the monitor; her brows suddenly knitted in agitation, and she asked, "How long have they been in that position?"
Baker looked at the screen again; the doe was lying on her back with the buck on top of her, her legs wrapped around his heavily-muscled thighs, her fingernails digging into his lean buttocks as he thrust in and out of her. "Uh... about twelve minutes, ma'am. That's the position they started in."
She leaned across him and poked a button on the console to enlarge the image. "And how many times have they mated in that position?"
Baker looked a little flustered. "This is the first time - all the other couplings were, uh, in a rear-entry position. Like the first time."
Stryker raised the other eyebrow. "Something wrong, Doctor?"
Risman made an impatient grumbling noise. "Animals don't mate like that - the buck should be behind her, in the proper position. The serum must be wearing off, he's starting to think like a human man again." She glanced at Baker. "Her mouth is moving - have they been talking to each other?"
Baker cleared his throat. "I, uh, I don't know, ma'am. I haven't turned the sound on at all."
She huffed, exasperated. "Not once? You haven't been monitoring their communications? The surest way to know whether or not the serum is still active is by listening to the buck's vocal assertions - if he can form human words, he'll have to be re-dosed!" She set her latte down and leaned across Baker again, flipping the audio switch; immediately, the observation room was filled with rhythmic growling and low, breathy moans.
"Ohhhh... oh, God... Logan... oh...oh! Logan, Logan...! Ohhh... oh, Jesus, baby..."
Baker cleared his throat and shifted again.
Risman frowned. "Hmm. He doesn't seem to be talking... just her."
Stryker chuckled. "No less vocal, though. That growling! I wonder if he'll go hoarse from doing that so often... no, probably not, not with that healing factor. Although, it'll be interesting to see how long he can continue. Wonder how he does that..."
The doe arched up off the floor, her nails reaping scarlet rows down the buck's broad back, her long, delighted cry exploding over the sound system and echoing in the small room; seconds later, the buck wrapped both arms behind her shoulders, pulling her down into his frantic thrusts, and roared, sinking his teeth into the tender skin above her collarbone.
Baker took the clipboard back from Stryker and made another note. "Time of sixth completed copulation, fifteen-forty-two." Yeah, that supply closet was sounding pretty damn good.
The doe was stroking the buck's sweat-dampened hair, smiling down at him as he licked the blood away from the little cuts his sharp eyeteeth had made; Risman pursed her lips into a little half-scowl and sighed, "Good lord. Does he bite her every time he climaxes?"
Baker smothered a cough and replied, "No, ma'am - only when they're mating."
The doctor folded her arms and picked up her latte again, sipping it with just a touch of irritation. "Look at all those bruises and bitemarks. She's going to have to be examined and treated - if those cuts get infected, it could be a problem."
The buck settled down on top of the doe, purring, satiated, relaxed. "Ahhh," he sighed into the crook of her neck and shoulder. "Mmmm... M'rie..."
Risman blinked. "What did he say?"
The doe chuckled and cuddled the buck - actually cuddled the beast, imagine! - and giggled against his scruffy cheek. "Think you almost outdid yourself that time, sugah. Mah ears're ringin'."
The buck's body trembled a bit, as if he were laughing. "Hmmf. Ahgh. Grrr... M'rie. D'rl'n..."
Risman set her cup down again. "Get her out of there!"
Stryker looked at the woman, obviously confused. "Why? They seem perfectly comfortable..."
She gestured with one hand to the screen, brows crinkling up again. "He's trying to talk! If he comes to his senses now, he may realize what's happened and reject her, and if the procedure isn't successful, she may reject him the next time around, out of hurt and spite!" She poked Baker in the shoulder to get him moving. "Get her out of there now, while the buck's relaxed and sleepy - if you let him get his wits about him, he'll be ten times worse."
Baker looked to Stryker for confirmation, and the older man nodded assent. "Go."
**********************************
"Ah like that purrin' thing you do," Rogue murmured, nuzzling Wolverine's ear, cradling his body with hers. He was heavy, but not crushingly so, and she found she rather liked the solid weight of him. It was... comforting. She felt so relaxed and safe, his broad body a shelter that protected her from the horrible lab cell around them; and she knew that no matter what happened, everything would be all right - because she was with him.
She heard a dull click from somewhere outside her post-orgasmic haze, and turned her eyes to look; Wolverine's head came up off her shoulder with a sudden jerk and a low, angry growl; four soldiers came in, bearing taser prods and tranquilizer guns, and fired several darts their way, a few lodging in Wolverine's back and arm. Rogue shrieked and clutched at Wolverine's shoulders in fear; he tried to get up, to get his claws out, to defend his mate - but the drugs were too quick, and he was too tired. He slumped, growling furiously, struggling to get his senses together, shaking his head - but nothing worked, and then the guards were pulling him off of her, eying her naked body with undisguised lust, and she was screaming.
"No! No! Stop it, let go! Logan!!"
He heard her cries, answered her with deep, groggy growls, tried to pick himself up off the floor - and got a gun-butt to the back of the head.
Two soldiers had Rogue by the arms, dragging her towards the door; she was fighting them, kicking and flailing, crying and afraid, the smell of her fear jabbing at Wolverine's consciousness worse than the blow to the head. "Logan!" she shouted, making a last-ditch effort to escape. "LOGAN!!"
With every bit of strength he could muster, Wolverine rocketed up off the floor, claws extending, and slashed the soldier that had hit him; the other one next to him got three razor-sharp claws through the heart and was dead before he hit the floor. Wolverine lunged at the two soldiers hauling Rogue out, roaring, and was promptly shot with six more darts. He fell at Rogue's feet, her screams ringing in his ears; he heard the whoosh-click of the door, and then there was darkness again.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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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 Marvel, yadda yadda, don't sue, blahditty blah.
FEEDBACK: You bring me comfort.
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.also, chapter 4 kind of melded with chapter 5 during the rewrite, and i ended up having to split them somewhat asymmetrically to keep chapter 5 properly continuous. so this part is admittedly short. gratuitous apologies for that. and i think i just used more ten-dollar words in four sentences than Hank does in an entire afternoon. wtf.
LAME DISCLAIMER: Not mine, blah blah Marvel, yadda yadda, don't sue, blahditty blah.
FEEDBACK: You bring me comfort.
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.also, chapter 4 kind of melded with chapter 5 during the rewrite, and i ended up having to split them somewhat asymmetrically to keep chapter 5 properly continuous. so this part is admittedly short. gratuitous apologies for that. and i think i just used more ten-dollar words in four sentences than Hank does in an entire afternoon. wtf.