It all started around two months ago in October. They had been friends, taken responsibility for each other. Spent time together. Helped each other through the rough stuff, the raw emotion, the sadness and loss.
They had been sent to a deserted compound for re-con purposes. The whole place was deserted and, by the looks of it, had been for at least 20 years. Shrubbery had overgrown, and everything was either broken or left to rot where it stood. The professor had sent them. It had been a holding premises for prisoners on their way for the death sentence. That was the official version; the reality was that early mutants were brought here to be evaluated and then re-trained to be assassins for the government.
‘Ro contracted Scott on h com system to give him a situation update. “Cyclops, we’re at the third out-building. The others were empty, but this one has an old flatbed truck with what looks like a big cage on the back. Whatever was in it busted out in spectacular fashion, over.”
Rogue carried on looking at the various equipment boxes that they had found on the roof, while Scott spoke with ‘Ro on the com link.
“Ok, take some pictures and make your way back to the checkpoint. Over and out.”
Scott walked over to Rogue, and even though he didn’t want to, he noticed the way that her leather uniform clung to her curvy ass. She was a seriously hot woman, she was 22, a full time X-Men, and very very dangerous. She could fight as well as he, and even though she had control of her mutation, her temper made her someone you didn’t cross. Her control was closely linked to her emotions, and if she was pissed off or upset, then it slipped. He knew it wasn’t her temper at all, but rather something she picked up from Logan and clung to because she liked the feel of it.
They had become good friends, and he scolded himself for looking at her like that. He was married, for God’s sake. ‘Ro would electrify his balls if she caught him looking at another woman.
“Have you finished cataloguing everything?” She stood up and turned to him.
“Yeah. We going back to the jet?”
“Yeah, let’s go and wait for the others.” Scott picked up a bag of guns and two others. She had also bagged up a rocket launcher and some plastic explosive. Rogue carried the ammo and grenades.
After placing all the bags in the jet, ‘Ro and Bobby came back with their camera and some samples of hair and cloth that they had collected for Hank to look over.
“Scott?” Pete’s voice was shaky and verging on panic as he ran up to the jet and into the back. All of them turned to him. “It’s Logan. He’s gone berserk. I have no idea why…he…just went crazy.”
“Where?” Rogues begged for him to be ok, please.
“Sub level 4, a back room.”
Scott stepped forward and to her arm to stop her, but she immediately shook him off. “We’ve got a tranq gun, I’ll go and….”
“NO! Me and Logan have a deal. I’m his responsibility, and he’s mine. Stay here.”
She jumped out of the jet and took off toward the main entrance to the compound. Scott called after her, “ROGUE,” but it was no use - she was already racing towards Logan.
Her mind racing along with her feet, down the hall, sub level four, left at the end, and there was the large door. She barged straight through and immediately wished she had checked first. X-Training went straight out the window.
Logan - check that - Wolverine was behind the door. She had just enough time to register the sound of his claws coming out before the sharp pain of three perfect pieces of metal ran across her right shoulder blade.
She cried out and ran further into the room until her back hit the wall. His claws had shredded the back of her uniform jacket, and the cold wall was surprisingly soothing to her wound.
Wolverine emerged from the darkness behind the door and stalked towards his prey. Both sets of claws fully extended and ready to strike if the female made any further attempts to attack him. The scent of her was familiar, cinnamon. Yes, he knew this female. He knew her very well: she was the mate of the man. The man had never taken her, but he knew from the man’s scent and heartbeat upon seeing her that, yes she was to be his mate.
Her fear was evident to him, so he sheathed his claws and stalked carefully towards her until his body was practically flush with hers.
She could see his nostrils flare and tried to calm herself. If he thought she was scared, he probably wouldn’t respond to her. She put hands on his chest, steadying him, making sure he didn’t get any closer.
He was staring at her with near-yellow eyes, predatory stance, male dominance and pure sexuality. He radiated heat towards her, and she almost forgot about the pain in her shoulder from the cuts. They burned, but not as much as the sudden desire she had for this powerful creature in front of her.
Taking in her scent again, he noted the drop in fear and the increase in desire and arousal. She was ready to be taken now. He briefly wondered why the man had never done it. Smelling her increased his want, his need, his desire and his lust for her.
“Logan, I need to come back now.” God, was that her voice? Even she could tell she was lying. She didn’t want Logan back; she wanted Wolverine to stay and look at her like that some more. Like she was the only thing in the world, like he needed her, wanted to touch her and make her all the things that Logan wanted to but wouldn’t because he was her friend. Wolverine wasn’t her friend. She didn’t want him to be.
He grabbed her hands and quickly spun her around so she was facing the wall, her cheek against the cold concrete. Pulling her torn uniform out of the way he licked the full length of one of the cuts. She gasped and closed her eyes tightly, trying desperately not to moan. Encouraging him wasn’t a good idea. No mater how much she wanted to.
He pressed his body against her, every tight solid muscle encased in hard, sexy leather, and he licked her again. This time she did moan. Breathy and drawn out. Then she hissed through her teeth as he ran his fangs over the cut. Her hair had fallen out of her ponytail, and he gathered it in his hand and roughly pulled it to one side to reveal all of her neck and her shoulder. She knew what was coming next: he would mark her.
The taste of her blood sent an electric spark over his tongue, which radiated through his entire body and straight to his groin. He would take her now. Rip this tight fabric off and take her right here. She was ready, ripe, and he could taste and smell how much she wanted it.
Without warning he tensed, she felt him turn his head away and growl. She was shaking with need. Desperate for him to finish what he had started. She didn’t care that the others were on the surface, or that they were in a dark dingy old cell. She wanted him - Wolverine.
He quickly turned back to her and bit hard at her hairline, breaking the skin, and she couldn’t help but buck her hips back against him, which made him growl again. Then he released her and turned to the door unleashing his claws, taking a ‘ready-to-fight’ stance.
She could hear Scott and Bobby coming down the hall. As they came through the door, Wolverine lunged forward. She grabbed his arm, and he swung towards her. Scott raised the gun and fired.
“SCOTT, NO!” It hit Wolverine square between the shoulders.
He staggered, he looked at her, and just as the drug took effect, his eyes cleared, and he spoke to her. “’Ree?” She caught him just before he hit the floor.
Sitting on the gurney opposite the one that Logan was asleep on, she hadn’t taken her eyes off of him for the last 90 minutes. Hank was stitching up her shoulder. They weren’t deep cuts, and he hadn’t meant them. She felt so guilty. When Logan woke up, he would smell her on his uniform, taste her in his mouth, her skin and her blood, and he would know that she didn’t stop Wolverine. Or worse, he would blame Wolverine for hurting her. She didn’t want that.
She felt like she had cheated on Logan: she let another man touch her. They weren’t together, it didn’t matter, she was his, and vice versa. They both knew that. They had just ignored it for the last few years on the pretence of not ruining their friendship. Both so scared of being alone. Not wanting to risk it. Now she knew the minute he figured it out, she would feel like she was cheating on Wolverine.
“Is the pain any better?” His fingers were soft and agile. He could do any procedure, and she wouldn’t feel it. Hank was the original gentle giant.
“Yeah. Will he wake up soon?” She sniffed. Her eyes were puffy from crying a little, but not because of the pain. Because of the guilt.
“Anytime within the next hour, I predict.”
She held on a little tighter to the towel that was around her chest. Her other hand holding her long hair out of his way. Wolverine had shredded her bra and tank top as well. “Uh-huh.” She wanted to spill everything, but knew she couldn’t tell anyone. They would all judge Logan too harshly for the actions of his darker side.
“He bit you.” It wasn’t a question. She turned to him, dropped her eyes to the floor and nodded. “I don’t mean to pry. But you realise you will have to tell him, don’t you? Wolverine thinks that he now has a claim to you. Any male in the mansion could be in danger if he chooses to push Logan’s conscious aside to protect you or to, um, prevent, um, potential suitors. If you see what I mean.”
She smiled at the way Hank stumbled over his words. “I’ll talk to him, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. He’ll wake up, and I’ll talk to him. You won’t…”
“Doctor-patient confidentiality. All finished. Eight stitches on the outer ones and twelve in the centre cut. They should heal without any trouble. Ahh, Scott, she’s all done.”
Scott walked in with a towel around his neck. He had showered and changed into sweats and a t-shirt. “He’s not awake yet?”
“Soon.” Hank picked up his equipment and moved away. He could tell one of them was about to loose their temper.
“You should never have got that close to him.”
She rolled her eyes. “Scott, he didn’t realise it was me until he had already lashed out. It wasn’t his fault.”
“I know, but there must have been another way to let him know it was you before you got close enough to get hurt. He knows you better than that. You should have waited for the rest of us.”
“What did you want me to do, Scott? Bend over and let him sniff my butt!”
“Ok, let me put this another way: *I* had the tranquilliser gun.”
“Scott, I’m a walking tranquilliser gun!”
“That’s not the point, and you know it. The two of you are different. You’re connected somehow.” He checked that Hank was well out of earshot. He didn’t want to embarrass his friend, but he was getting sick of this. They all were. “Get over yourselves and admit to each other what, to me, is obvious. You love each other. Just, do something about it already.”
She couldn’t help but smile at him even though the conversation with Logan wasn’t going to be easy. “And when exactly did you, fearless-leader-Scott, notice that?”
“About twenty minutes before he left after the Statue of Liberty. The Professor showed him the map to Alkali Lake, and then he gave me this big long speech about how he would give me a third useless eye if anything happened to you while he was gone. Popped the claws and everything.”
She laughed despite herself. “A third useless eye? Sounds like Logan. Don’t worry, I’m planning on having the talk. I kinda got fed up with the whole hiding-behind-our-friendship thing.”
“Good. I’ll leave you with him. By the way, I’m not the only one that’s noticed. Everyone has. We all want you both to be happy. We’re your friends, no one’s going to judge. Although if he had done something about it back then, I would have kicked his ass.” He walked out of the lab, followed by Hank, who gave a reassuring smile.
She sat there for about fifteen minutes, just watching his chest rise and fall. She wanted to lay her head on it, run her hands over his face, feel his skin under her fingertips, but then she would have more of her scent on him. It was all going to be difficult enough to explain anyway.
Sighing heavily she got up of the gurney. Turning her back to him, she dropped the towel and pulled her hair up to put it in a loose bun, then thought better of it. He would see the mark. She let her hair go again and picked up the baggy t-shirt that Hank had left for her.
Opening his eyes, he was met with the best sight he could have ever had in his life. Marie with her top off. Her back. Pale, creamy, flesh. Beautiful. She lifted her hair up and then let it go again. Dark soft curls falling over perfect sculpted shoulders. His eyes fell on the fresh stitches. Shit! He did that. He would recognise the wounds anywhere.
She jumped when she felt his hands on her bare shoulders. He felt her tense; even when she realised who it was, she still remained tense. There was something more to this than him simply losing it.
“Are you alright?” His voice was a whisper, like he was frightened if he spoke too loud, he would scare her off.
“It’s just a few stitches. It wasn’t your fault, sugar.” She wanted to turn around, but she still hadn’t put her top on yet. She had her left arm across her chest to cover her breasts.
Standing behind her like this, her skin exposed to him, the smell of her. Slight fear, heavy emotion, salt from shed tears, and a hint of desire, arousal and sex. His breathing became heavy, and his vision swam. God. He was going to faint. No… yep, he was going to faint. His eyes clouded, and he was plunged into blackness.
************END OF PART ONE
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